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dilatorywriting · 2 years ago

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Valentine's Day Special: Let Them Fight

GN!Reader x Malleus Draconia vs. Azul Ashengrotto vs. Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Who knew that in a world of magic, and mayhem, and outright villainy, that it'd be something as stupid as Valentine's Day that would push these idiots over the edge. Or, Malleus, Azul, and Vil go to war over some chocolates

A/N: This MC/Plot takes place in the Heroes vs Villains universe -- specifically Post-Staff's route, rather than any of our other lovely idiot husbands.

There was always some sort of strange overlap of customs from your world to this one. Halloween seemed to have survived more or less intact (even if it was a bit more, uh, extreme than the subtle evening of giving out treats and dressing as ghosts that you remembered). Winter Holidays were still very much a Thing, even if all other connotations had been stripped from them. Moreover, it was like someone had taken your familiar Earthen calendar and just sort of… mirrored it. Distorted it a bit. Just a lil’ bit more chaos than would have been socially acceptable back home.

So when you made a sly little joke about stocking up on discount chocolates after the Valentine’s Day rush and no one laughed—not even a little chortle, or an irritable eyeroll—you initially thought it was maybe to do with the irrationality of Sam’s Shop ever having a sale to begin with. You had not assumed that, you know, there was no Valentine’s Day at all.

“It’s an important holiday, then? Where you’re from?” Azul mused, busy scribbling endless, chicken scratch, notes in the margins of some form that was probably very important.

“I mean, not really,” you frowned, tossing your Mostro-Branded apron onto its hook. “Maybe. Yes? I don’t really know, actually.”

He hummed and moved to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Well, whatever it is, I’m always looking for new events to host at the Lounge. What exactly is it?”

“It’s a sort of special day for couples. Romance. Lovey-dovey nonsense,” you shrugged, and watched Azul’s finger slip off the slick metal frame of his glasses and nearly take his eye out. You waved off his obvious disgust with a dramatic sigh (I mean, why else would he be so stiff and red?). “Yeah, yeah. I know. It’s ridiculous.”

“I—I never said that!” he spluttered, and then paused to cough into his fist and clear his throat. “It just—I just wasn’t expecting something like that to…”

“Exist?”

He grinned, wry. His cheeks were still a bit too pink. “Precisely.”

“You would have loved my world,” you said. “Very capitalistic. Lots of cash-grab holidays like that.”

Azul laughed.

“I’m sure I would be fond of any place you came from.” He paused, and his expression puckered up a bit miserably—like he really hadn’t intended to express such a sentiment aloud. But he managed to smooth the sharp line of his frown back into that usual, smarmy, smirk of his easily enough. “But either way! Tell me more!” he grinned, reaching forward to grab a stack of blank paper and a fresh pen. “I’d love to hear all about it.”

The next day you were supposed to help the Drama Club start building some stage scenery for their newest play. It was proper grunt work, which was perhaps the only sort of work you were actually qualified for. And Vil always made sure that there were plenty of disgustingly healthy but still quite tasty snacks available for the help to munch on. The food spread alone would have been worth the trip, but on top of that, Vil had made you promise. Practically a blood oath, binding you and your meager free time to the shitty supply closet in the corner of the Auditorium. And as sour as he could be sometimes, you really could never say no to him when he always looked so heart meltingly fond whenever you did agree to while away the hours at his side. That lovely face and even lovelier smile of his were fucking lethal. A war crime, surely, to use it against someone as plain and susceptible to bribery as you were.

But today you were now an idiot on a mission—an idiot determined to spread the joy of a trashy holiday that really probably shouldn’t exist in the first place, let alone in a world where people worshipped storybook villains as veritable deities. And you’d already bought all the molds, and the trays, and you really didn’t have a lot of spare pocket money to begin with, so letting this investment go to waste would not only be a shame, but a terrible business investment.

“What do you mean you’re not coming,” Vil sneered, glaring down his perfectly straight nose at you.

“I really am sorry,” you said, mostly genuine. “But I have something I need to do this afternoon.”

“You’ve made other plans?” he frowned, something a little too unsettled to fit with his usual regality twisting across his expression.

“I have to get ready for Valentine’s Day,” you explained, and his brow tugged down further. Though that earlier twinge of panic seemed to have vanished at least. You pointedly shook your grocery bag full of goodies. “I’m going to make chocolates for everyone.”

“Chocolates?” Vil echoed, confused.

You nodded. “It’s a tradition back home. You give stuff like candy and flowers to the people you care about. Normally it’s a holiday for couples, or whatever. But. Well…”

The ‘I Am Fully Aware That I’m Single as a Pringle, Please Just Let Me Have This One Thing’ was left unsaid, but it hung in the air around your head like a very persistent storm cloud nonetheless. Vil, magnanimously, seemed perfectly happy to ignore the Woe Is Me implications spewing from your mouth. Instead, he leaned forward until he was dipping precariously close into your personal space. His amethyst eyes had lit with blatant interest at your ramblings, and he hummed low in his throat.

“Is that so?” he mused, gaze lidded and warm. “That sounds… intriguing.”

You nodded past the heady scent of his cologne fogging your head. What was it with attractive people, huh? It was so unfair. You don’t get to look and smell good. Pick a lane. Save some dignity for the rest of us.

“So, I promise I’ll help another day. I just have a feeling making chocolates is going to wind up being a lot harder than I think it will.”

Because that’s how it always went in your stupid slice-of-life shows. The poor, harried, protagonist thinking they’re doing a good deed—painstakingly constructing their own, special, homemade goodies for all their important people. Making them with love. And then having it all blow up in their face like a goddamn, cocoa flavored, nuke. Nope. Not you, motherfucker. Your chocolates were going to be divine. You were going to take every, tropey, precaution in the book. And that of course included allotting yourself ample time to make mistakes your masterpiece.

“Of course,” Vil grinned. “How could I possibly begrudge you for wanting to spend your time on something so heartfelt?”

“Thank you,” you blurted, relived. Because at least he got it. Azul had been so ridiculously insistent that you should prepare all your Valentine’s Day wishes as a team. Which was not the point. He’d spent hours last night trying to wheedle his way into your plans—with endless platitudes about ‘business partners always being there for each other,’ and ‘how would he know if he was celebrating to your standards if he wasn’t given a model to work off of first?’ Utter bullshit. He’d probably just wanted free labor.

“Tomorrow, then?” Vil beamed and you nodded.

“Tomorrow,” you confirmed.

“Well, then,” he hummed. “I better get to work as well. I suppose the scenery can wait.”

You nodded in farewell and began the trek back to Ramshackle and its marginally functional kitchens. You hadn’t realized Vil was taking on any new projects, but if it was enough to have him putting off the Club’s activities as well then it must have been pretty important. Maybe he’d get you tickets to it whenever he finished—whatever it was. If there were tickets? How did any of the things he did actually work? Hell if you knew.

Making chocolates was, in fact, a laughably easy endeavor. And you found yourself cursing every goddamn Shoujo Bullshit Manga under the sun for leading you to think otherwise. The hardest part of the entire thing was fighting off Grim and his wandering paws.

You made up some basic truffles which were, again, stupidly simple. Just some messily chopped chocolate, cream, and a little splash of vanilla to make it Special. Once those were shaped into messy blobs, you dipped them into some more melted chocolate and bam. That was it. That was literally it. You felt like a genius—sitting there mushing up balls of cocoa like high-end playdough.

By 6PM, you had all your little darlings tucked into the refrigerator to harden, all the gauzy, red, boxes lined up on your counter and ready to be filled, and Grim had been placated with an offering of all your dirty mixing bowls. The tiny, demonic, beast was passed out at the dingy kitchen table—one of said bowls wedged onto his head like an astronaut’s helmet. Hopefully it was just a food coma and not, like, an actual coma-coma. Real cats couldn’t eat chocolate, but Grim never really seemed real at all. So hopefully he’d be fine.

You wiped down your cooking space once, twice. Paced up and down the narrow hallway until you were wearing away the already threadbare rugs, and spent way too long just standing in front of the fridge—staring in on your chocolates like a psychotic kidnapper scoping out their next victims.

Eventually you realized that you maybe needed to do something with your evening that wasn’t just creeping on your confections, and set out into the frosty, night, air for a stroll.

Which is, of course, where you ran into your familiar, horned, friend—staring up into the starry sky in a wistful manner that darkened his pale complexion into something nearly ominous. He always looked a bit like that, like something unearthly and detached from the rest of the world.

“Tsunotarou!” you chirped happily, and that adrift-at-sea expression of his melted right off his face.

“Child of Man,” he greeted, inclining his head politely. “I wasn’t expecting to see you this evening.” His brow furrowed, almost confused. “Is it not too cold for you?”

Your breath was, in fact, fogging in front of your face. And you couldn’t really feel your toes anymore. But the electric anticipation of tomorrow was keeping you warm enough. Even if only in spirit.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you waved him off. And then, because you couldn’t help yourself, you leaned forward on your tippytoes and blurted out, “Happy Almost Valentine’s Day!”

“Valentine’s Day?” Malleus repeated back at you, looking like you’d just handed him an unsolvable differential equation.

“It’s a holiday from back home,” you explained for the umpteenth time that day. “And normally I’m not too fussed about it, but this year I’m really excited to give everyone their chocolates!” You grinned. “And you too, of course. I have to make sure I give them to all my important people.”

The furrow between his brows vanished, but the blatant, gaping, confusion remained. He looked like you’d nearly startled him into an early grave.

“I am one of your most important people?” he asked, slow as a tortoise making its way up an incline.

You nodded cheerfully, still bellied by your earlier culinary successes and excellent mood. “Of course you are! We’re friends, aren’t we? And besides. Valentine’s Day is for showing people how much you care about them.”

“What an interesting concept,” he mused, bringing a finger up to tap at his chin. “To think your world had such a heartfelt tradition—it’s quite a lovely surprise.”

You laughed. “If you think the chocolates are special, you should see what some couples do for each other. Rooms full of flowers, fancy date nights—I’m just managing the bare minimum.”

“Couples?” he echoed, and you felt the first teeny, hot, thread of chagrin work its way past your enthusiasm.

“Well, normally Valentine’s Day focuses on, like, romantic things,” you said, averting your gaze just in time to miss the tension lance through his shoulders. “But it can be for all sorts of affection!” you hastily added.

“Is that so…” the Prince hummed. He lifted his pensive gaze once more and stared you down with that weighted intensity that you’d only just recently learned how not to buckle beneath. “And you wish to celebrate this day. With me?”

“…you don’t mind, do you?” you asked, hesitant.

“Of course not, Child of Man,” he beamed, his lips curling up into a smile that put all his too-sharp teeth on display. “But you’ll have to excuse me now, I’m afraid. It seems I have some preparations to undertake this evening.”

“Oh,” you blinked. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yes,” Malleus said. “You will.”

It was officially Valentine’s Day, and you were ready to begin your mission of forcing your sweets onto every, single, one of your reluctant friends. Let them be pissy and tsundere. You weren’t afraid to weep and proclaim your undying, shounen-talk-no-jutsu, levels of friendship. Okay. Maybe you were a little. But these grouchy bastards had very easily become your grouchy bastards, and so help you God, they would suffer under your affection and they would like it.

There were plenty of small boxes—all nice, neat, corners with little bows perched on top. But you had also prepared a singular, larger, tray. It was cleaner cut than the rest, with bold, contrasting, colors and a simple elegance. You stared it down with a strange sort of disquiet brewing in your gut. Maybe you were being presumptuous. Goodness knows you’d more than dealt with the searing, emotionally destructive, consequences of that before. But all the same…

You squared your shoulders and spent a moment convincing yourself that your spine was quite sturdy—a proper, titanium, support system—and then popped the Big Box into the bag with the others.

Your first stop was Heartslabyul, and you burst through the ornate, crimson, doors like a manic home invader.

“I come bearing gifts,” you proclaimed, merrily doling out the boxes to your favorite idiot duo. You set three more aside, with little labels for Riddle, Trey, and Cater respectively. Normally you wouldn’t trust a dorm full of teenage boys not to devour any scrap of unattended food in sight, but Riddle had long since struck the fear of God into these poor lads. So you figured it’d be safe.

Deuce’s face lit up and he accepted the chocolate with near starry-eyed enthusiasm.

“Are these your holiday presents? Like the Santa Claus?” he asked, looking very much like a bouncy golden retriever preparing itself for congratulatory head pats.

You leaned forward with an indulgent huff to give him his pats. “No. But close enough.”

You pawned off three boxes on Ruggie when he tried to duck past you in the hallway—one for him, one for Leona, and one extra as payment for making him do your dirty work of playing delivery boy to Mister Grump in the first place. You slipped Jack his on the way into Trein’s morning lecture, and managed to press a box into Jamil’s hands before he slunk off to the library. Kalim cheered so loudly when you handed him one that your ears started to ring.

And then trouble arrived in the form of two, slippery, eels draping themselves across your shoulders. Normally the destructive duo seemed to act on their own prerogative, but on this fortuitous morning their Lord and Master was surprisingly not too far behind.

“Shrimpy!~” Floyd trilled, dragging you into a one-armed hug that was really more of a slightly-less-aggressive headlock than anything else. “Azul says you came up with this stupid holiday! And he made us work all day yesterdayto put together stuff for the Lounge! It’s not fair!”

Your legs shook under the weight of the new tumor that had made its home on your back.

“Now, Floyd,” Jade chirped. All finely manicured cruelty. “If you’re to blame anyone for going overboard with this entire situation, you ought to lay the fault on our fearless leader.” His bi-colored eyes flashed, amused. “Isn’t that right, Azul?”

Said ‘fearless leader’ looked like he was sucking on a lemon. He glared bitterly at his subordinate, seeming to share an entire, silent, argument with him, before turning back on you with a heavy sigh and the barest hint of angry flush in his cheeks.

“Prefect,” he grinned past his obvious discomfort, all sparkling, white, teeth. “I have to thank you for sharing so much information about this ‘Valentine’s Day’ of yours. It’s such a unique event, and it seems like our preparations at the Lounge are already being received incredibly well.”

“That’s good,” you nodded, trying and failing to shrug the Leech off your shoulders. “I’m glad I could help.”

Azul hummed under his breath, his eyes darting away for a moment. His glasses reflected the muted light of the hall in an odd way—making it difficult to read his expression. He cleared his throat and when he looked back up at you, the tips of his ears had gone pink.

“You’re more than welcome to come by, of course,” he beamed, suave as could be.

“I mean,” you blinked. “I would hope so. I work there.”

Floyd let out a bark of laughter and Jade snickered into his glove. The pleasant pink tinting Azul’s skin was heating to a near sunburned red. He looked down and coughed into his fist.

“Yes…” he mumbled. “I—I’m aware. But what I meant is… What I meant—” He frowned. It was a tight, pouty, little thing that scrunched up his entire face. That mottled red had spread to the bridge of his nose.

“I do believe what Azul is trying to say,” Jade stepped in, clearly taking some sort of pity on his tongue-tied friend. Or perhaps pity was the wrong word for it, seeing how smug he looked, “is that he would like to invite you to the event personally. As an honored guest, not an employee.”

“Oh,” you blinked, startled. Then hesitated, cautious on instinct. There was always some sort of catch to the Octomer’s kindness. “I don’t know if I could afford whatever fancy thing you’ve thrown together.”

“You wouldn’t be paying for it,” Azul assured you, some of that sickly flush having finally started to recede from his cheeks. You hoped he was feeling alright. “You’ve contributed more than enough for the day. It would be on the house.”

Jade loudly cleared his throat and Azul huffed, eyes sliding away yet again.

“I would be paying,” he finally mumbled. And then, even quieter, “As I believe is the custom.”

Just as you were about to thank him for his startling bought of generosity (and also ask after his health, because between the weird, pink, tinge to his skin and the aforementioned generosity, clearly somethingwas out of sorts with him), you noticed a sneaky hand working its way into your bag of goodies, and you immediately were on the defensive.

“Hey!” you snapped, spinning out of Floyd’s stranglehold. “You only get one!”

“Then I want the really big one!” he demanded, making grabby motions at it.

“No!” you squeaked, and clutched it protectively to your chest. The trio looked at you with varying degrees of surprise and you cleared your throat awkwardly. “This one—This one is special.”

“Oh?” Jade cooed, eyes flickering back towards Azul, who seemed determined to look absolutely anywhere else. “Is it now?”

“Awww,” Floyd whined. “That’s no fair! Who’s it for, anyways?!”

You gripped the box tighter and now it was your turn to stiffly avert your eyes down to the ugly carpet. “It’s not—I’m not—” you cleared your throat and forced the jitter from your voice. “I’m not ready to give it to him yet.”

The silence that followed was absolutely the worst thing you’d experienced in a long, long, time. Overblots and all. You could practically hear your blood pounding in your ears. You were just about to turn and beat a hasty retreat when a familiar, snappish, voice called your name from the other side of the corridor.

“There you are, potato,” Vil huffed, coming to stand at your side and bodily inserting himself between you and your tormentors. He met Azul’s petulant sneer with a frankly terrifying one of his own. “What are you doing here? I thought we agreed you’d be eating lunch with me today.”

You remembered no such thing, but if it got you out of this verbal minefield of a conversation, you were more than willing to take the claim at face value.

“Apologies,” Azul cut in with all his usual, mafioso, flair. “But the Prefect will be taking their afternoon meal at the Mostro Lounge today.”

“Is that so?” Vil hummed, sounding positively venomous.

“Unless you think you can make an offer good enough to sway them otherwise,” Azul chirped, equally as unpleasant.

Vil laughed—cold and sharp as crystal. It was the most elegant display of blatant irritation you’d ever seen.

“Of course you’d only consider this entire situation on a transactional basis,” he drawled, entirely unimpressed. Azul flinched and his expression screwed up into something near petulant. “I would expect no less. Are you planning to lock them into a contact too, hmm? Sign away everything in formal, sterile, terms?” Vil crossed his arms, and you were reminded sharply once more how very, very lucky you were to not be on his bad side (even if you hadn’t realized before all this that Azul apparently was on said bad side. You had no idea they disliked each other so terribly). “I really hadn’t expected you to have a single, romantic, bone in your body, and yet somehow I’m still disappointed to be proved so entirely correct.”

Azul looked ready to explode, and even though Jade and Floyd and melted back into the shadows at the start of this entire encounter, the pair of them were starting to look a bit murderous too—like sharks lazily circling the dark, ocean, depths.

“Don’t you think you deserve better?” Vil asserted, turning back to face you with a soft cant of the head. You blinked back in shock.

“Uh,” you gaped, absolutely fucking lost.

And then, like a beacon of unrivaled, black-drenched, hope, you spotted Malleus making his way down the hallway. He was flanked by his trio of housemates-cum-pseudo-bodyguards. Normally you tried to leave him alone when his rabid, green-haired, guard dog was yipping at his heels, and on top of that, the idea of using your classmates’ ingrained fear of the Fae Prince to your own advantage upset your rather staunch sensibilities. But this was an emergency.

“Tsunotarou!” you called, and it absolutely sounded like the cry for help it was.

He perked up immediately and you watched him nearly crash to a standstill. And then his sharp, neon, gaze locked on the dueling Housewardens circling you like a pair of snapping wolves, and his merry expression shuttered into something positively glacial. Which was—Fuck. I mean. Come on. What the fuck was going on today—

“Child of Man,” he droned, crossing the short distance with all the grace of the near-mythical, arcane, master that he was. His posture was more collected and regal than you’d ever seen it, and he loomed all the taller for it.

Azul and Vil had gone tense at your side, one certainly more so than other. The Octomer looked incredibly unsettled at Malleus’s sudden arrival, but Vil just looked angrier. It was the sort of unpleasantness that bloomed whenever someone challenged him or his competencies over and over—inevitably pushing the normally composed beauty into an indignant rage.

“Happy Day of Valentine’s,” Malleus continued, slotting himself firmly into the veritable territory dispute going down. “Are you quite alright?”

No, you wanted to wail. No! I’m so confused! I have no idea what’s going on! I just wanted to give my friends chocolates!

But you never managed to get those words or any others past your lips, because Sebek Zigvolt shot to his master’s side with all the speed of the lightning for which he was so named, and immediately began to scream.

“HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT THE YOUNG MASTER’S AFTERNOON ROUTINE!” he shrieked at the top of his very impressive lungs.

You weren’t sure if he was howling at you (very likely) or just anyone who wasn’t Malleus, but Jade took the opportunity to slink forward from the shadows with a sharp tut-tut.

“Perhaps none of you deserve the Prefect’s special attentions,” he piped in, sounding very much like someone intentionally throwing a cannister of gasoline onto an already roaring fire. “Or any chocolates at all—let alone the ones set aside for someone special.”

At this, silence once more rang through the corridor and you wanted to throttle that stupid eel.

“There is a special box?” Malleus asked first, brow shooting up as his expression tugged with… something.

“I—I mean, I made all of yours special!” you defended, holding the wrapped treasure tightly to your chest. “But… I guess. Yes. There’s one that’s a little bigger than the others.”

At this, all three Housewardens exchanged pointed looks.

Jade smiled serenely once more, and then continued his absolute massacre upon your person.

“Yes, indeed,” he nodded. “And our dearest Prefect only just mentioned that—hmm. How did you word it? Ah. That’s right. ‘I’m not ready to give it to him yet.’”

The trio tensed. All looking absolutely ready to pounce. At—at what, you had no idea.

“Perhaps,” the wretch mused, “it would be best for you all to temper your rage until the victor is decided, hmm?” He paused to tap at his chin for a moment, and then his lips split into a mean, jagged, grin. “Afterwards? Well, I suppose that whole cheery sentiment about ‘love and war’ still holds true.”

You gulped, feeling startlingly like Jade had just tried to serve you up on a silver platter.

But when neither Azul, Vil, or Malleus made any further moves to murder each other… well. As sacrificial as it all felt, at least it must have worked.

The rest of the day passed in a tense sort of fugue. You certainly hadn’t expected your attempts at bringing some holiday cheer to Night Raven to go so… Uh…

But either way, you managed to survive through the rest of the afternoon, and before you knew it, all that remained of all your tireless efforts and good will was the Special Box. The big one. The one that you’d put together with extra care and hopes for better things. You glared down at it for a moment, feeling sweat starting to bead over your palms. But you couldn’t chicken out now. Not after you’d come so far! Everyone was acting so strange, and it was all so weird. And as much as that unfamiliarity had your teeth on edge and your hackles raised, you didn’t want to regret not giving out the last of your well-made sweets.

Well, here goes nothing, you frowned. You took a deep breath, willed yourself to be brave, and smiled your biggest smile.

“Here,” you beamed, more than a little shy and still a bit horrified by whatever pissing match had been going down earlier in the day, and finally offered the grandest of your chocolate boxes to the man standing opposite you.

Divus Crewel accepted your offering daintily, plucking at the crisp, sharp, wrapping with his crimson gloves. He arched one of his thin brows at you and you fought the nervous heat rising in your cheeks.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you blurted. “I know it’s not a thing here, but I thought it’d be nice.”

The second eyebrow joined the first—practically jumping all the way up into his fringe.

“I appreciate the gesture. Though from what I understand of all the garish advertising I’ve seen for Mostro Lounge’s new event, I assumed this was a holiday for romantic overtures,” he intoned, wry.

You spluttered and waved your hands furiously. “I mean! Normally! Yes! But also…” You trailed off, fighting the urge to fidget. “If you don’t have a—a, well, someone, then Valentine’s is just a nice excuse to give something to people you care about.” You averted your gaze and lost the battle to twist your fingers into your jacket sleeves. “My family used to give me chocolates every year. So. I thought I could… Well…” you trailed off on a grumble, embarrassed.

Crewel sighed and popped the lid off the box. He plucked two truffles from their casing—keeping one for himself and handing you the other.

“Well, then. A very happy Valentine’s to you, Prefect,” he droned and popped the chocolate into his mouth with a thoughtful hum.

You lit up like a Christmas tree and happily gobbled up your own treat. So distracted were you by the one-two-punch combo of the delicious sugar and even sweeter taste of your Professor’s approval that you almost entirely missed the pointed glare he shot over your shoulder.

“I appreciate your regard,” he said, loud. Sharp. And like he wasn’t talking to you at all. “And while I’m certain that if you do pick a ‘someone’ for yourself to celebrate with in the following years, they’ll have to work very hard to be worthy of such a gift, hmm?” His lip curled unpleasantly, in direct contrast to the indulgent warmth that had been tugging at his expression only a moment before. “I could hardly allow you to waste such a thoughtful gesture on someone unworthy.”

The Octavinelle Housewarden had the decency to look at least a little panicked—his face going pale and gaunt from where he was shrinking into his high collar. There was a frantic look about him, like he was trying to weigh the cost-benefit ratio of going up against his professor in his head, and realizing that he was stupidly, willfully, walking right into a lose-lose situation. And that, sadly—miserably—he was going to keep doing just that. The other two, however, looked entirely undeterred. Schoenheit curled his lip right back at him, more than ready to duke it out here and now, and Crewel fought the urge to remind the blonde that he was the adult in this situation, thank you very much. The adult who could very well revoke the Warden’s access to his Alchemy Labs as it suited him. The very alchemy labs that he knew Vil had been using to concoct all kinds of new, personalized, gifts for you. Draconia simply looked on with that unnervingly ancient, green, leer of his. Like he was staring down a particularly fascinating game. The Fae Prince was the most unsettling of the trio, if only because that while Crewel was more than confident enough in his abilities to subdue his other wayward students, fighting off an Immortal, All Powerful, Dragon was going to require at least a little bit of prep work.

Divus Crewel sighed, and it rattled all the way out from the marrow of his bones.

“Come, then,” he rumbled, directing you to follow him back into his office. “It’s not chocolates, but I probably have some of those ridiculous cookies of yours lying around somewhere.” Which he did. Boxes upon boxes of them. Tucked away special for whenever you came to visit. Not that he’d ever willingly admit that, even under the pain of death.

Your eyes went wide and warm as you positively beamed.

It was rotten work, certainly. He shot one, last, warning glare down the hall at the trio of infatuated interlopers as he firmly shut his office door behind you and your absolute oblivious idiocy. He’d do it. Of course he would. But, Christ alive. He was going to need a stronger drink.

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unconventional-lawnchair · 3 months ago

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Summer Talks {Blurb}

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Fred lets you know what he's waiting for

WC: 980

Warning: Use of Y/N-

Summer at the Weasley’s was always delightful. Everyone was outside in the sun, spraying each other with muggle water toys or swimming in the lake. It was always so cozy, and full of life, your favorite place to waste hours of your time.

“Hey, {Y/N}! Going in already, dear?” Mrs. Weasley called out to you and you rang out your hair and jogged up to the porch and grabbed the towel George threw at you. Giving him a bright smile and a swift thank you as you covered your swim suit clad body.

“Mhm! I'm going to freshen up!”

Mrs. Weasley nodded, her warm smile never fading. “You’ve been in the water for ages! Make sure to grab a snack before dinner; I’ve just baked a fresh batch of treacle tart.” She called back, her eyes glinting with excitement.

As you turned to head inside, you caught sight of Ron and Hermione engaged in a playful and rather sarcastic argument about who could build the best sandcastle down by the lake. Harry was nearby, laughing and attempting to mediate, but it was clear he was being drowned out by the two.

When you caught his eyes he gave an exaggerated sigh and you just shook your head, hurrying up the steps to the room you had been staying in for the past few days. Charlie’s old room. Though, you were annoyed to find that someone was currently occupying the in suite bathroom Molly had assured you would be yours for the summer.

You rapped lightly against the door, hearing the faint sound of water running and muttering something to yourself. No one answered.

Carefully, you opened the door and peaked in, furrowing your brow in confusion before you saw the shower had been on. Was on.

“Hello?” You called again, not knowing exactly what you expected, until you heard a voice call back.

“{Y/N}?” Fred called back and opened the curtain. You quickly dropped the edges of your towel and covered your eyes with a shocked gasp, only to hear him laugh. Carefully, you peaked through your fingers and gave a loud and annoyed groan to see he was showering in his swim trunks.

You leaned down to grab your discarded towel, only to roll it up and throw it at him. “You cheek! This was supposed to be my private bathroom!”

“Hey, hey! Play nice, you'll bruise my best asset.” He huffed and you rolled your eyes. “Get over yourself.”

He laughed and shrugged, taking your towel and tangling it in his wet hair as he turned off the shower head. You turned to walk into your room and sat on Charlie’s old bed, while Fred leaned in the bathroom doorway and let the towel fall to his shoulders.

You did your best not to watch as his hair dripped and hit the hard wood flooring. How he gave you that loose cocky little smirk he always seemed to wear, like the bottle of absolute sunshine he was. You leaned your head in your palm as he walked over to sit beside you.

“So, {Y/N}, it's been a while. Some would say you're avoiding me.” He teased and you bit your cheek.

“I always am, Fred.” You cheeked and smiled at him, he looked up at you from where he leaned on his elbows, tilting his head and giving you a pretty obvious look up and down.

That wasn't new.

“Keep it in your pants, lover boy.”

Fred chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I can’t help it if you look good in that swimsuit. It’s a compliment, you know.” He flashed you that grin- the one that could make anyone’s heart race.

You rolled your eyes again, but you couldn’t suppress the smile creeping onto your face. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Weasley.” You muttered, trying to sound stern but failing miserably.

“Is that a challenge?” He chuckled, leaning closer. “Because you know I love a good challenge.”

You shook your head, trying to maintain your composure. “Oh I know you do. How's Angelina? Heard you lettered her a few times since I've been back.”

He rolled his eyes back and gave an exaggerated groan, before he sat up and ran his fingers through his head. Giving you an amused look. “Stop that.”

“No, I'm serious.” You insisted. “I heard from George that you two have really been hitting it off. Good for you two.”

He gave a disbelieving laugh and looked you straight in your eyes. Holding the look for a moment before his smirk turned far more gentle, but still insistent. “You know that it's me and you getting married, yeah? My mom would kill me if it was anyone else.”

You felt your heart race at his words, your cheeks warming as you tried to process what he had just said. “What are you on about?” You managed, trying to sound casual, but the teasing lilt in your voice betrayed you.

Fred leaned back, his expression shifting to a mix of playful seriousness. “I mean it! You and me, it’s been me and you since we were tots.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You really think so? What about Angelina?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Angelina is dynamite. But she's more into me but.. younger.” He smirked and you furrowed your brow in confusion, before your eyebrows shot up.

Oh George you prick.

“Now, George did tell me something interesting.”

“What's that?” You mused and turned to look at him again.

“You and Wood. What's going on there?”

“Oh, are you jealous?" You teased and rolled his jaw.

“I don't get jealous. I don't need to.” He stood up and began to walk backwards, sending you wink as he walked to the door. “You have fun with that fling. Call me when you're ready for your husband.”

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasely x y/n #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley x you #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction

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soundlessdreamss · 1 year ago

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Hi!

Can i request lucifer and charlie morningstar with starlight glimmer!Reader?

So the reader was lucifer's child back in heaven and when she saw what her father did without her..She felt anger and sorrow insode herself.. But that didn't stop of her because she fell from heaven to hell...And she changed her appearance so nobody would suspect that she looks similar to lucifer

If you know starlight's cutie mark ability that is different..The reader can collect people's soul and feed the souls to her clock

Her clock is golden one with starlight mark on the behind..And she can time travel but she don't use it alot since she still has some other abilities to keep in control..

And the reader just went to the hazbin hotel just to stay there and help with few stuff... And vaggie knows reader but not that deep..Charlie noticed that the reader had few blonde hair strings like lucifer.. So she thought nothing at first..

And the reader saw alastor as father figure so sometimes the reader calls him father and alastor just tells the reader to call him father which the reader become happy since she didn't had anyone else at all

So when lucifer visits the hotel how he will react?

I could just when lucifer pointed it out alastor would have the biggest grin then spoke

"Oh?,well she calls me her father!"

I wanna see it sooooo badly‼️‼️

It's alright if you don't do it<3

Also can be called the servy anon?

I like your fics sm<3

Hope to see more of it<3

Have good day/evening/night<3

omg I LOVE mlp!! Of course I can write this, I haven’t got that far though so I’m not really sure how starlight glimmer acts but I did a bit of research and I’ll try my best to write this well!

PLATONIC/FATHER ALASTOR X READER X LUCIFER (sorry if this isn’t how u write it, I’m still new to this whole fanfic thing ^_^ ) Also this is kinda angsty, and requests are open!

When you were still a kid in heaven you saw Lucifer as the best father in the world! He loved and cherished you deeply, you didn’t think he would give you up that easily. Would he?

You wanted to play with him one day and looked everywhere for him but you couldn’t find him. You asked an angel if they had any clue where he was but they said he was banished with his wife Lillth because they rebelled against heaven.

he seriously just left you like that? Without a word? To say you were angered was an understatement. you were FUMING. But you also couldn’t help but feel so miserable and depressed that he just left you like that.

you thought he cared about you just as much as you cared about him. But you were wrong.

After a couple hundred years when you became an adult, all of that anger and sorrow that you had stored you from Lucifer, you finally snapped. You took it out on the angels which led you to getting banished for being rude and improper.

The first thing you did in hell was change your appearance because you knew Lucifer was the king of hell and you really didn’t wanna see him again after what he did to you. (You also kinda regretted taking your anger out on the angels who did nothing to you.)

Your first couple months in hell were agonizing as everyone here was so different compared to the angels and people in heaven. It felt like you were an outcast.

You tried to not use your powers as much but when it got really bad you decided to collect their soul and feed it into your clock. Or you sometimes dropped time in order to collect their soul as well.

As you were walking in the streets of hell one day you heard an advertisement about a hotel and it caught your attention. You looked at the tv for the ad and it described a hotel where sinners can be redeemed if they just try to become better.

It sounded like a breath of fresh air compared to all these other advertisements for clubs so you decided why not visit the hotel? It couldn’t be so bad.

After a couple minutes of walking you made it to the hotel and knocked on the door. You were taken aback as a blonde haired girl hugged you tight and welcomed you to the hotel. But you also noticed Vaggie was there.

The blonde hair girl introduced herself as Charlie and also Vaggies girlfriend. (You congratulated Vaggie in private and also mentioned to not let Charlie know about her identity.)

As you were talking to Vaggie in private after being introduced to the hotel and welcomed she told you that Charlie was Lucifer’s daughter. You couldn’t believe it.

Not only did he leave you behind, but he started a whole family without you even knowing. You were in disbelief and asked Vaggie to not let Charlie know that you were her older sister technically.

You both agreed to it and went back to the lobby. Charlie couldn’t help but notice you had blonde streaks in your hair that looked similar to her blonde hair but she just shrugged it off.

You were also introduced to a man named Alastor and he greeted you very kindly. And before you knew it you guys started growing a daughter and father bond.

He treated you just like his daughter if he had one, he filled the parental role that Lucifer never did.

It made your heart happy knowing that you could finally have a father figure that you knew wouldn’t leave you. You guys bonded over the span of a couple weeks and you accidentally called him dad once out loud.

He didn’t mind though and said that you could even call him dad because he thought it was sweet that you saw him as your father.

As the weeks went by Charlie finally had an idea to let heaven approve of their hotel she just needed to call her father to schedule a meeting with heaven for her.

The one thing you didn’t expect her to do was to invite him over though. Fuck. What were you supposed to do now?! You really didn’t wanna see Lucifer again and panicked internally.

You helped the crew set up the hotel for Lucifer’s visit but your anxiety just rose more and more the closer it got to an hour passing by. (Since he said he was going in an hour)

Once it was finally time to greet him he burst through the door and hugged Charlie tightly since he had missed her, he also greeted kiki, and razzle and dazzle. It hurt a bit seeing how much cared for her but didn’t care for you.

You tried hiding behind Alastor a bit but Lucifer looked at his way when he pointed out the reservations and noticed it was you even with the changes you did to yourself.

His breathe got stuck in his throat and he couldn’t believe it was really you after all these years. Oh how he regretted never taking you with him.

He approached you and looked at you closely before saying “[reader], is that really you?…”

He brushed some strands of hair out of your face before pulling you into a hug. That was not something the other members of the hotel expected.

You pushed him off quickly though as you were still angry and uncomfortable with him.

He didn’t get why you pushed him off, he thought you still missed him after all these years of not being together.

It didn’t take too long for Alastor to connect the pieces since he was good observer. You had those blonde streaks in your hair for a reason no?… that’s cause you were related to the king of hell himself, Lucifer.

Alastor than put his hand around your waist pulling you closer. (Not in a romantic way!!) He than spoke up about Lucifer’s behavior. “Lucifer if you don’t mind excusing me but, what exactly are you doing with my daughter?”

Lucifer seemed in shock when he said that. “YOUR daughter? Oh please, you remember don’t you [reader]? It’s me your father, Lucifer! He had a desperate and nervous smile on his face hoping that you would remember him.

Before you could speak up Alastor cut you off and spoke first “Oh really? That’s quite funny cause [reader] calls me her father.”

The whole room went silent after that. Lucifer couldn’t believe it, Alastor was just playing around was he? You were probably just having an inside joke with him but no, you really saw Alastor as your father instead of Lucifer, your ACTUAL father.

You saw the heartbroken look on Lucifer’s face and didn’t know what to say in response but managed to mutter something out. “I’m sorry, but it’s been hundreds of years since that day happened, you need to let me go.”

After managing to mutter that out you excused yourself and went back to your room in the hotel. After Alastor and Lucifer fought over you and Charlie, (and after Charlie and Lucifer sang the song together) Lucifer knocked on the door but you didn’t answer so he teleported inside your room.

Only to see you and Alastor on your rooms balcony together. You were crying on the floor from the painful encounter and Alastor comforted you saying sweet words to make you feel better.

Before Alastor or you could notice Lucifer he quickly left and went back to his palace and rethought about his choices he made with you. He knew he couldn’t get his daughter back, it was already too late. If only he made the decision to take you with him.

note: I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS!! please don’t be shy to send me requests, I’ll gladly write more fun things like this. ^_^

#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #alastor x reader #platonic #platonic x reader #light angst

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lucabyte · 1 month ago

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How do you get your siffrins to look adult? I keep accidentally giving them a baby face but I WANT THEM TO LOOK GROWN AND EXHAUSTED LIKE HE DESERVES

okay so i legit think i fail at making siffrin look adequately adult like half the time but here's a general breakdown of my like. thought process when im actually um. thinking .

So first of all heres my general tips for proportioning a face, and how i attempt to keep the roundness of sif's in-game proportions while also like... drawing them more realistically? i had to practically reinvent a Human Style for drawing isat fanart since im a furry artist so a lot of this is fresh in my mind, luckily(?) for you i suppose.

This newness also means you can like, watch me fight and struggle against how the hell to do this in my earlier fanart. so feel free to try and see what changed as i pieced it together.

Another note is body proportion. You note giving him a baby face specifically, but some of it MIGHT be that you're drawing the head too big for your style? Try and figure out how many "heads tall" your figures are and tweak the numbers until you find what looks "adult"

Here I cracked open one of the comics I used CSP Model refrences for (albeit feat Loop, who i envision to be the exact same height as siffrin. i am NOT a tall loop truther i think its funnier when that bitch is five foot NOTHING!!!!!)

drawing sif with adult proportions can be deceptively difficult though on account of their Being A Tiny Motherfucker. Mostly here though, I find that the best way to do this is to drop like 1/3rd of the length of an average drawing figure's legs. Short people tend to have short legs. I know this on account of a lot of my ocs being 5'3" and below (... for... reasons...... unrelated to my own... height.... 100%.... ) so once again I think a lot of this can come down to trying to fiddle with numbers and noting down what works.

OKAY NOW ONTO SOME MORE SIFFRIN-SPECIFIC DRAWING TIPS. like these are what i find myself doing to make them look older if i accidentally baby face them myself

The above kind of chibi-er doodle style im still not sure has Siffrin looking adult enough for my liking (someone who considers them minimum 28) but considering they're presumably genuinely a deceptively baby faced guy at least by game's start (even if they should probably look. unhealthy.) it's like... forgivable.

the bald spot is basically fucking cheating in terms of "making them look older" lbr but i am so fucking insistent on it and i punch the air in celebration every time i see anyone else do it. winner is ME!!!!

Anyway. the body hair thing is funny considering we basically have Word Of God that siffrin is not the kind of person who ever likes being naked/even having their feet out in a casual setting. but like. hi its me the weird fucked up miserable nudity guy. of course im drawing every pockmark and texture on their body.

Another note here is, on their naked form, I avoid overly smooth lines for outlines of the limbs and torso. This avoids making them look "sexy twink thin" (not my bag at all) and instead gives the impression of loose skin from fluctuating weight, uneven fat distribution, skin becoming baggier with age. I also let joints jut out and look sharp wherever I can. This is because im an asexual pervert who likes the human form the mostest when i can see 'imperfections' This adds to the haggard nature of it all, by being reasonably honest about what the kind of persistent decade-long neglect of self care and implied malnutrition would do to a guy

Last note: eyes. i find i end up drawing a vague glassy black smear with a hint of white for the sclera for siffrin like. a Lot. Eyebags to show weariness is not my preferred method as I find it, to be rude, a bit of an overused shorthand. Plus, while sif in game does get eyebags, they're usually more on pushed expressions where they're forcing their face. So I put more emphasis on drawing the folds of the upper lid (which the game does not do) to make them look weary.

I dont think i can elaborate on my opinions on How To Draw Eyes without it becoming a way the fuck too long essay because "drawing emotions good" is like. my number 1 goal in every drawing so even if everything else is scuffed to hell I HAVE TOOO get the eyes right because theyre the most emotive part of the face. if i cant capture an emotion correctly the drawing isnt getting fucking finished is the thing, so....

Luckily for me, drawing over eyes and continously tweaking them by painting over and over and over and redoing them can have the side effect of making them look over-detailed and thus worn/tired/agonised. yes this is why i draw loop's face so scrunched all the time. All I can say for this though is to do a lot of studies of both real life faces & the most emotive cartoon faces you personally have experienced. So like. steven universe is great for this because rebecca sugar is so scary at drawing eyes. theyre so fucking scary at it. or sometimes i just go stare at rebecca's old comics because jesus christ. anyway.

??? but yeah hope this helps. its something i feel like i have a genuine hard time with too, especially since im so intent on keeping their face round & my artstyle is genuinely very cutesy even when i am being weird soo ...?

tl;dr:

draw the eyes smaller, give them a chin, the canon nose helps a lot & dont forget the bald spot. everyone draw the bald spot. for me.

#???? HOPE THIS HELPS IVE NO IDEA WHAT IM DOING BESTIEEEE. imo ppl like dragonymango draw way better adult-looking sifs than me LOL #lucabytetalks #long post #isat spoilers #isat siffrin #two hats spoilers #doodlebyte #soz for the wait time i kinda had to draw pictures to explain anything in a coherent manner. not that this is coherent at all

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months ago

Text

Paradigm Shift 3

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you get transferred to a new position but it’s hardly a breath of fresh air. (plus!reader)

Characters: Loki, Bucky Barnes, this reader is known as Billie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

Dark roast, black. You're tempted to order one for yourself but the extra dose of caffeine might unhinge you after the morning you've had. Transfer, no desk, a firing, a stolen desk, and two painfully aloof bosses.

You go back up to the office, the short reprieve offering some clarity but not solutions. There has to be some way to get more than a grunt and a closed door from these men. Geez, if you wanted to work with children you would've done so.

You knock on Mr. Barnes' door. The one next to it opens first. Laufeyson considers you from head to toe and Barnes appears not a second after. He takes his cup without a thanks.

"Mm, and where is mine then?" Laufeyson challenges.

You blink, long and hard. Of course. Of course! You let out a slow breath, "what would you like, Mr. Laufeyson?"

You don't miss the quiet snort from the other door and it closes before you can glance Barnes' expression. You have a suspicion he expected this. It's like your first job when you worked with a bunch of men in stocks. Their numbers were as bloated as their egos.

“Matcha.”

The door shuts in your face. Again. You bite down and stretch your fingers wide. It’s fine. It’s fine. Growing pains.

Matcha... what? Iced? Latte? Hot tea? Smoothie? Wonderful, a guessing game.

You will be getting yourself another coffee for the trouble. Another trip to Roasters and you settle on the simplest option; just tea. You’re certain if you’re wrong, he’ll let you know.

You stand at the two office doors and contemplate your life decisions. Is this worth it? Can you beg Odinson to take you back? To send down another poor soul? You almost feel bad doing that to someone else. You’re about to give when that innate stubborn ticks in your jaw. It’s only been a few hours. You don’t just give up that easy.

Knock, knock. There’s a delay before Laufeyson answers. You’re not put off by it. You know the tactic. It won’t work on you. If his tea is cold, it won’t be your fault.

“Matcha, sir,” you hold out the cup.

He accepts it and reads the sticker on the side. He narrows his green eyes and looks at you, “note for next time, I prefer Garcon’s to Roasters.”

Click. Another shut door. You’re really starting to get angry. You laugh out the flurry of agitation and turn away. What else can you do but think of it as a joke? It has to be. It’s just that absurd.

You sit at the desk and open your laptop. You get it hooked up to the monitor and refinagle the cords. That’s an accomplishment at least. A tiny morsel of victory. You glance around and frown. It’s like the waiting room in Beetlejuice; everyone looks miserable. Well, can you blame them?

Your phone buzzes and you check the messages. Girl nights hangs like bait at the end of your day, keeping you swimming through dark waters. It’s a bit ridiculous. Your friends are all like you in one way but all vastly different in many other ways. You all spend your days taking care of men who couldn’t give a shit about any of you.

You can already taste the Paloma; bitter grapefruit with the burn of tequila. You are dying to drink away this day. You look at the clock and nearly whimper. It’s not even one o’clock. Ugh.

You plug away at your desk. You get the daily agendas templated then spend time scouring the web. You have something in mind. You’re pretty sure you can make it work. As long as those grumps can do the simplest of tasks.

You customize the survey and send the link. You doubt you’ll get a response today or even at all. It’s a hail mary, really. Barnes’ door opens, then Laufeysons. Your chest fills with dread. Great.

“Hello, sir and... sir,” you sit up as they approach.

“What is the meaning of that quiz?” Laufeyson demands.

“It’s not--

“Asking a lot, aren’t you?” Barnes crosses his arms.

“No, I just--”

“What business do you have about my dry cleaning?” Laufeyson hisses.

“I have lunch when I have lunch. I'm not a child at grade school,” Barnes sneers.

“Okay, woah,” you put your palms out, “first, there’s an n/a column, you can choose not to disclose the information. Two, I need to know what to do. What do you want from me?”

Both men frown and look at each other, then back to you.

“I can think of one,” Laufeyson raises a finger, “don’t treat us as children who need you to put our socks on.”

“Good one,” Barnes scoffs, “also, you could stop with calendar reminders.”

“Those are automatic,” you mutter.

“And the arguing,” Laufeyson points at you.

You sputter, dizzy at their onslaught of criticism. They can tell you exactly what they don’t want but they can’t give you a clear answer as to why you are there. You calm yourself with a breath and sip of coffee.

“Mr. Laufeyson, Mr. Barnes--”

“Why him first? My name’s first alphabetically,” Barnes says.

“I--” you stop yourself and take another taste of your coffee, “if my presence is getting in the way of your work, I will go back upstairs and talk to Mr. Odinson--”

“Mr. Odinson? Thor?” Laufeyson says, “no, you won’t do that. In fact, that is another item for your list, no talking to my brother. Especially of me.”

You could tear your hair out. You could hit your head on the wall. You could gauge your eyes out and drown yourself in your coffee. Instead, you smile.

“Got it,” you say, “well, sirs, good luck with your meeting this afternoon.”

“Yes, thank you,” Laufeyson intones.

“Mm, sure,” Barnes says and they both turn on their heels then stop at once. They face you in sync with each other.

“Meeting?” They ask.

“Mmhm,” you nod, “it’s in your calendars.”

They stare at you.

“If that’s something you’d like me to brief you on,” you say tritely, “you can submit that in the survey.”

Laufeyson hums dryly and Barnes growls. Neither says anything further as they retreat. You keep your eyes on the screen as your heartbeat races. You can’t believe you said that.

#bucky barnes #loki #dark loki #dark bucky barnes #dark!loki #dark!bucky barnes #loki x reader #bucky barnes x reader #series #drabble #paradigm shift #bad bosses #au #marvel #mcu #avengers #winter soldier #captain america #thor

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pitchcom · 1 month ago

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carcar survivor au, 2.2k

When Oscar received his new tribe buff, he knew that this was a chance for a fresh start.

The last vote had been…messy, to say the least. Daniel had approached him and Zhou with an idol and a plan to take out Pierre before he and Yuki could reach the merge and gain more control over the game. Oscar wasn’t naive enough to think that this meant any sort of alliance between them, but he had promised his sisters that he would do anything to try and win.

Yuki stood resolutely away from the rest of the tribe on the boat ride over. Oscar catches a glimpse of his hands, knuckles clenching white against the boat railing. He feels Daniel push past him, towards Yuki and raises an eyebrow at him questioningly.

Daniel turns back towards him. “Yuki’s scared of sharks.” he offers, as if they all hadn’t caused his face to crumple a couple nights ago as Pierre’s name was read over and over.

Oscar watches him walk next to Yuki, slinging an arm over his shoulder. Too soft, he thinks as he watches Yuki loosen his grip on the railing and lean into Daniel’s hold. He looks away towards the horizon as they travel to their new beach.

——

Oscar quickly finds himself escaping to the water well less than an hour after arriving on the new beach.

Strategically, he knows he should be at camp with everyone else. Should be talking to everyone, scouting out tribe dynamics, making first impressions that aren’t a stilted introduction before disappearing. But Oscar was never quite a social butterfly; still awkward at office parties despite working there for 2 years by now, never mind trying to ingratiate himself with 10 other strangers he had just seen briefly at challenges.

A voice interrupts his thoughts. “Huh. I guess you really were getting water. I bet George half a coconut that you were out idol searching already.”

Oscar startles and whirls around to come face to face with a shorter man with curly hair, crooked grin stuck on his face from tribe 1. Ah. He vaguely remembers him from the last challenge.

“Oh. Um. You’re the guy who kept falling off the balance beam, right?” Oscar kicked himself mentally. For all that first impressions mattered in the game, Oscar was failing miserably at them so far.

Balance Beam Guy’s mouth falls into a pout. “Alex already made fun of me for that at camp for three days! I thought that people would be over it by now.” he grumbles, moving next to Oscar to grab the water ladle from him.

“Sorry.” Oscar says, not particularly sorry. “I didn’t have a name for you, so.”

Balance Beam Guy sniffs. “It's Lando, so get that memory out of your head. I don’t need reminders that all of America saw me fail to walk in a straight line. You came over from tribe 3, right? Any deets on alliances, idols, advantages?”

Oscar shakes his head. “Nah, we’re kind of a mess. Daniel burned our idol at the last tribal, so if anyone was able to find it before we got on the boat I wouldn’t know. I’m uh, actually looking for some potential connections here.” And maybe it's a little desperate, a little shameless, but Oscar needed some kind of lifeline. So, even if he had to reveal his hand a little earlier then he would’ve liked, he was hoping the information would be interesting enough to make him worth keeping.

Luckily, Lando’s face breaks into a wide grin as he finishes filling his canteen. “Well, you’re in luck! Don’t tell anyone, but-“ Lando ducks closer, voice dropping to a whisper. “I do happen to be a part of quite a strong alliance with George and Alex. We’re trying to keep it on the downlow for now, but we’re looking for a solid fourth to help us swing a majority. You want in, um-?” Lando trails off, hand reaching out.

“Oscar,” he finishes as he takes Lando’s hand. “And I’d be happy to work with you.”

Lando’s grin slides back into its crooked default. “Great! I’ll tell them about it, and in a little bit we’ll go down to the water and chat. See you back at camp, Osc!”

Oscar’s face twitches a little at the nickname, but he doesn’t say anything as Lando walks away. We’re not friends, he wants to call after Lando. It's just strategy.

Oscar waits 5 minutes after Lando leaves before returning to camp. He gives an awkward half smile when Lando winks at him. Possible strategic liability, he notes to himself.

——

Oscar already considered himself particularly lucky to have fumbled his way through the premerge after losing Logan, not to mention Lando choosing to approach him with the offer of an alliance. In all honesty, he was waiting for the other shoe to drop and hoping it wouldn’t affect his game too badly.

That should’ve been warning already when Carlos decided to approach him on the beach.

Oscar was stretched across the sand, letting the suns rays lull him into a sleep. Half the tribe was out getting a reward (Lando included) leaving the rest of them to sulk around camp and try not to think of all the food the others were eating. Oscar chose to ignore the gnawing disappointment by getting some peace and quiet. Unfortunately, Carlos had other ideas.

“Oscar.” Carlos called from across the sand

Oscar squeezed his eyes closed. Maybe, he reasoned, if he pretended to be asleep already Carlos would get the hint and leave him alone.

“Oscar! Hello?” The voice got closer.

Oscar groaned internally before rolling back over and opening his eyes. He was immediately met with an extreme close up of Carlos, frown painted on his face.

“Why are you sleeping in the sun? Your skin, it will burn no?” were the first words Carlos spoke to him, voice too loud and face still too close.

Oscar blinked at him. “What?”

Carlos’ frown deepens. “Your skin. You will not tan, like this.”

“Well, sorry that not all of us were born with perfect genetics.” Oscar wants to drown this guy and his stupid island beauty in the ocean. “Why are you here anyways? Aren’t you supposed to be plotting the next vote with Max or something?”

Carlos’ face lights up. “Ah! That is what I have come to talk to you about!” He says, ignoring the obvious dismissal as he takes a seat next to Oscar on the sand. “You see, I have noticed that you sit alone at camp quite a lot. So, I assume that you do not have an alliance yet!”

Oscar raises an eyebrow. “And what if I have a secret alliance with somebody else? Like Daniel, or Zhou?”

Carlos laughs, a cackle that sounds almost painful. “I have already talked to both of them, and they both say they have no tribe loyalty.”

“They might be lying, you know. Trying to lull you into a false sense of security and all that.”

Carlos grins, a big dopey thing. “Between you and them I think I believe them more. No offense, Oscar.”

Oscar wills back the growing irritation beneath his skin. He’s dealt with annoying over-confident and underestimating assholes before. He knows how to play this game. “You got me. Totally friendless and ally-less on this island. Probably the most boring castaway ever.” He drones, almost completely monotone.

Carlos frowns. “Do not say that, Oscar.” Ozz-car. “I am sure you are a very wonderful person. If you were not, I would not be here asking you to join my alliance.”

“You’re here to ask me to join your alliance?”

Carlos blinks, then snaps his fingers. “Ah! Yes! I have come here to ask you to join me, Charles, and Max at the next vote!” Carlos looks at Oscar eagerly, as if he should be jumping at his generous offer. “Since you have said yourself that you have no allies, we could help carry you farther in the game. It is a mutually beneficial partnership, no?”

Oscar snorts internally. “Beneficial for you, yes. For me? What happens when it comes down to me or Charles? Me or Max? Mate, I’m not stupid. I know there are hierarchies in alliances, and I’d be at the bottom. I don’t want to be just some fucking sheep you bring with you until the time is right.”

Carlos looks a little lost at this. Clearly, his plan to swoop in and grab a vote didn’t go as smoothly as he thought. Serves him right, Oscar thinks bitterly. It’d probably be the first time his stupid cow eyes and smooth accent didn’t get him what he wanted.

Oscar watches him wiggle his jaw for a couple of seconds, lost in thought. He sighs internally, before turning back over and closing his eyes again. “Look mate, I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got my own alliance. Find somebody else to be your number.”

Oscar doesn’t hear anything for a moment, then feels sand being kicked against his skin as Carlos gets up. “Fine. But I will not be so nice later after Tribal Council, when my alliance controls the vote. See you later, Oscar.”

Fuck that guy, Oscar thinks. He ends up staying out on the sand to spite him. He ignores the smirk Carlos gives him later as Lando laughs and pokes at his sunburned back.

——

Later, after Max wins the immunity challenge, George asks him who he’s thinking of voting tonight.

“I dunno, but I think Carlos is a good choice. Breaking up that alliance before they get a foothold in the game is probably a good idea. “ Oscar says, feigning nonchalance. It’s purely strategic, he tells himself.

George nods. “And you’re sure you can get Daniel and Zhou to vote with us?”

“Course he can!” Alex says, laying an arm around Oscars shoulder with an easy smile. “And even if he can’t, I think we’ll survive to another day. I mean, nobody even knows we’re allied. There's no way they think that a bunch of lanky and short guys are bigger threats than someone like Valterri or Fernando.”

Oscar nods along, a smile growing despite himself as he watches Lando shove Alex for calling him short. This is my endgame, he thinks to himself.

——

George is trembling on the way back from tribal. From rage or shock, Oscar doesn’t know. Lando is silent for once, white-knuckled grip on his pack and lips pursed into a sharp line.

Alex going home tonight was not part of the plan. They were supposed to have the numbers, with Lewis, Valterri, Zhou, and Daniel voting with them. I guess they found their number, Oscar thought bitterly and he watched Daniel and Max whisper to each other up ahead.

It was a good move. If Oscar were at home watching, he would be applauding them for identifying the threat within the tribe and dealing a significant blow to them. But now, as he was forced to trudge back to camp minus Alex, Oscar just feels a sort of sourness in his stomach.

This feeling is only amplified when they arrive back at camp, and Carlos turns to him with a big smile on his face. Oscar doesn’t think it's dopey anymore.

“I told you, Oscar!” Carlos sings to him as Oscar is trying to dig for his jacket in his pack. “I told you we would control the vote. Are you rethinking my offer now? Though, I think we are less in need of ‘sheep’ now.”

Oscar rethinks every post he’s ever made on Twitter calling out contestants for being butthurt for being on the wrong side of the vote. Tries to school his expression, tries to steady his breathing and refrain himself from punching Carlos straight in the face.

“Fuck off.” Is what he settles for instead, a shove that barely makes Carlos stumble. Oscar can hear his cackling laugh echo through the night air as he stomps down to the beach to meet with George and Lando.

“What the fuck just happened.” George starts. “We were supposed to be safe- We were not supposed to be the targets! It was supposed to be Fernando, or Valterri, or even fucking Lewis-“

”I just don’t understand how they knew,” Lando stresses, hand pulling through his curls. “We were keeping it a secret and everything!”

Oscar doesn’t say anything, because the sour feeling in his stomach has just curdled. Nobody said anything about an alliance, he realises, except for him. Except for that stupid throwaway line to Carlos on the beach. A throwaway line that he then latched onto, analyzed, and deduced a potential member from.

The guilt eats at him, in the silence. Nobody speaks for a bit. Oscar is about to open his mouth and apologize when Lando says “Franco.”

They both turn to look at him. ”Franco was in our old tribe, he voted with them tonight. He must’ve figured it out.” Lando continues.

And it’s an out. An easy way to avoid blame, to explain away the sudden target of Alex. Oscar only feels slightly bad when he nods along. After all, it makes perfect sense.

They talk for a little more, discuss further plans of action. But there is only one fact repeating in Oscars head by the time they get back to camp:

Carlos Sainz is bad for his game.

#ITS HERE EVERYBODY #okay im posting this and running away. i dont like reading my own writing it always feels rlly clunky to me #this js VERY part 1 so a lot of details are mentioned to set up to later actuons that. do not exist yet LOLL #tried to get their voices in this but its my first time writing f1 dialogue so bear w me if they all sound similar 🙏#ANYWAYS. ik theres kind of not a ton of carcar in this LOL but i hope u guys are picking up what im putting down #OKAY GOODBYE FOR REAL. IF YOU ENJOY PLEASE SEND ME A LITTLE COMMENT/REBLOG/ASK I LOVE AND READ THEM ALL 🫶#carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz #oscar piastri #carcar #f1 fic #mine

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mikavlcs · 2 years ago

Text

Heaven Sent

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x fem!winged!reader

Summary: While sharing a bed, Wednesday finds a new use for your wings.

Warnings: soft/ooc!wednesday(!!!), it’s cute tho i promise

Word count: 1.1k

Notes: this is an adorable request from an anon, hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

Wednesday was not having a particularly good night.

She had spent the entire evening venturing around campus for a new mystery to solve. Hours upon hours were spent searching for something, anything to entertain her and satiate her hunger for a fresh case to sink her teeth into.

But she had failed. Miserably. By the end of her hunt, she felt like she was suffocating in the air of utter boredom that settled comfortably around Nevermore after the Hyde had been detained and Crackstone defeated.

The only saving grace for her dreadful night was the fact that you had invited her to sleep in your dorm. It was something you began doing more often and she could never bring herself to say no.

Not because she enjoyed it, but because she didn’t want to have to deal with your pouting if she refused.

That was how she ended up outside your door at nearly midnight.

She quickly looked around. With no roaming teachers in sight, she took the chance to speak.

“Thing?”

Her disembodied companion came crawling out of her bag and up to her shoulder. She glanced back at him.

“I will be sleeping here tonight. You go back to my dorm. You know how to bypass the lock, just try not to give Enid a heart attack this time.”

She turned back to face your door, but Thing didn’t move. Confused, she faced him again. “What?”

The hand responded with a series of taps that made Wednesday glare at him.

“You can see her tomorrow. She invited me here, not you.”

Thing didn’t budge, looking as indignant as a sentient limb possibly could. Wednesday clenched her jaw.

“If you go back, I will let you sleep on my bed,” she gritted out. Thing perked up at the proposal. “But I will rescind the offer entirely if you do not move.”

That seemed to be enough to get him going. Thing gave her a soft tap, a gentle “good night” that she couldn’t help but return as he made his way off her arm and onto the floor. He quickly scampered off toward her dorm, clearly excited to have the entire bed to himself. Wednesday rolled her eyes and reached for your door, sighing when it opened with a quick twist.

You liked leaving the door unlocked for her, even though she told you that there was no need. After all, she could pick locks as simple as these in her sleep. But you insisted. She found it equally as endearing as she did utterly stupid, though she’d never admit it.

Stepping inside, she saw your sprawled form on your bed and paused, silently shutting the door behind her.

You were laid on your stomach in the middle of your bed, one arm hugging your pillow while the other rested under you. Your wings rested peacefully beside you, unevenly splayed across the blankets. Her eyes caught on the way they twitched every now and then, likely in response to whatever you were dreaming about.

She granted herself a moment to simply observe you in your rest.

During the day, you kept your wings in your harness. You said it was because they were too big and you didn’t want to unknowingly whack someone with them in the halls, but she knew there were underlying reasons as well.

Though they were easily the most magnificent things she had ever laid her eyes on, you were insecure about your wings. You had yet to tell her why and she resolved not to push you, but that made moments like this—when you allowed yourself to be fully exposed, truly yourself—all the more special to her.

It showed how much you trusted her. And she would be remiss to say that it wasn’t just the slightest bit touching.

Hesitantly, she tore her eyes away from you and focused on what she came here for. She took her boots off and set them on the floor beside yours, dropping her bag there as well, then silently made her way to your dresser, where you kept her spare set of pajamas.

After she changed, she walked over to your bed. Your wings fluttered lightly at her quiet approach, but you showed no signs of waking.

She stared down at you briefly before lightly shaking you.

No response.

She tried again, harder this time. You only hugged your pillow tighter.

An idea came to mind. One that you wouldn’t like, but she certainly would.

With a spark of joy in her chest, she leaned down and shoved you off the bed. You crashed to the floor with a loud thud and a pained groan much to her amused satisfaction.

Your head shot up to look at her, affronted. Your wings flared up behind you in a way that was more cute than it was menacing.

“Wednesday! What was that for?!”

“You wouldn’t move,” she shrugged.

“You could’ve just woken me up like a normal person,” you grumbled as you stood and dusted yourself off.

“Well, you don’t wake up like a normal person. So I did what I knew would work.”

The smirk she had been trying to hide was on full display now. She sat down on her side of the bed and gave you an expectant look. You maintained your half-hearted glare for a minute then gave up.

Your eyes and wings drooped simultaneously under the weight of your exhaustion and Wednesday couldn’t help but be disgusted by how effortlessly adorable you could be.

Oblivious to the effect you had on Wednesday, you flopped down onto the left side of the bed, which you had deemed yours the first time you shared it with her.

The smaller girl watched as you curled tightly into yourself, ensuring Wednesday her personal space through the night. Her cold heart thawed some at how seriously you took her comfort.

(A small, weak part of herself wished you would disregard it just once and hold her, even if it was just her hand. A negative side effect of being around Pugsley for so much of her life, she estimated.)

“Good night, Wends,” your words slurred slightly, already falling back into your slumber. Wednesday huffed in amusement as she turned your lamp off. She settled down and got comfortable, arms crossing over her chest.

Not daring to say anything to you directly, she only replied long after you slipped back into your dreams, voice so quiet it could hardly be considered a whisper.

“Good night, cara mia.”

Just as she began to succumb to the cold embrace of sleep, she felt something large and…oddly feathery rest itself on top of her.

Curious, she opened her eyes, and there on her chest lay one of your wings. It covered the upper half of her completely, acting almost as a blanket.

Her eyes flitted to your sleeping form, scrutinizing you. You were definitely asleep, so you must have covered her subconsciously.

Momentarily, she considered pushing it off, but she dismissed the thought as soon as it came.

Even though she wasn’t a big fan of physical affection, the soft heat and light pressure of your wing on top of her was…not entirely unpleasant. So she decided that she would indulge you, even if you were unconscious. Just this once.

She adjusted her position slightly, huffing at the way your wing twitched in response, and close her eyes once more.

Encompassed in your warmth, Wednesday drifted off into a blissfully dreamless sleep with the smallest of smiles on her face.

#definitely didn't forget i was posting this #wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams imagine #jenna ortega

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fatescaprice · 1 year ago

Note

hello my favourite argenti kisser. it is i. your supreme overlord ^_^ i am here to, very politely, ask for aventurine and robin dating hcs. shambles away miserably. you know who i am. goot bye <3

dating aventurine and robin

content warnings: none

note: hello supreme overlord!!! you can shamble all u want . i will remember . anyways i had a lot of fun writing this :) please accept my humble offering . i hope u enjoy 🫡

Despite his seemingly friendly exterior, AVENTURINE isn’t as easy to get to know as some might assume. He teases, and befriends, and invites, but always keeps people at an arm’s length — for many years this is how he’s lived, and he was wholly under the pretence that he would continue on like this until he died.

Early on in your relationship, it might not feel like you’re even dating at all. He invites you to his fancy IPC parties as a plus one, but gives you about the same amount of attention as everybody else. He asks you about your day, but never talks about himself. It takes him a while to warm up to you — maybe he ends up enchanted watching the way you talk about your passions, or maybe he’s awestruck by the smile you throw his way as you thank him for a gift he got for you. Either way, he falls hard, like a meteor crashing down to earth.

Aventurine’s love language seems like it would be gift-giving, but it’s far too easy to buy you things, he thinks. His time is far more scarce, and therefore far more precious to him. He’ll text you after he clocks out with a dinner invitation to somewhere he knows you like — he’s already made the reservation, so what do you say? He’ll watch you drone about your day with some smitten look on his face until his food goes cold.

Without his usual suave bravado he feels a little too vulnerable than what he’s used to — sometimes, when he looks at you, he feels like he’s looking straight into the sun for the first time, blinding and comforting all at once.

His love is genuine, if a little clumsy, too. You might get calls from him throughout the day while he’s at work: nothing’s wrong, he’s quick to say, he just wanted to hear your voice. His hand reaches out for yours in the same smooth, practiced motion as always, but the way his fingers curl around yours, his thumb brushes over your knuckles is new, almost shy — and if you’re able to catch the look on his face before he glances away, you’ll be able to see the gentle upturn of his lips, a delicate little arc, brighter than any gem he could ever present to you.

ROBIN's love for you is something akin to the feeling of walking into a well-lived room: warm, familiar, safe. No matter how long you’ve actually been together, she always feels some sense of innocent puppy-love for you — always enamoured by the way you speak, and smile, and laugh, and…

It’s quite likely that you’re her first romantic relationship. She’s had fans in the past that might’ve liked the idea of her more than her actual self, but with you she feels seen in all the best ways. She doesn’t feel the need to play any role, or keep her hair neat and voice soft and back straight. In your company she feels she can let herself be, let herself hold your hand across the table or wipe a little bit of food off the corner of your lips. Would you be so kind as to let her? She hopes so — the feeling of your warmth next to hers is more exhilarating than the cheers of any crowd.

Robin’s preferred kind of dates are the more lowkey kind: maybe you just want to have a home-cooked dinner, or to watch a movie in the living room? She’ll help you set up the kitchen or help decide on a movie. It’s not uncommon for her to encounter reporters or paparazzi while out and about, and while she might be used to it, she doesn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire. It’s like a breath of fresh air for her, too — everything is so much less stifling when it’s just the two of you.

She seems like the type to express her love in little ways, too. She’ll order your coffee in the way that you like without even having to ask, or she’ll adjust your collar if it’s crooked before you go out together. The thought of you permeates all her thoughts and actions, too — in a crowd of people she’ll find herself singing only to you, and as you walk hand-in-hand through the late-night streets of the Golden Hour, not even the brightest lights will be able to tear her eyes away from you, the sweetest dream she could ever hope to have.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #aventurine x reader #robin x reader #✎... writing.

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4linos · 3 months ago

Text

beyond the scrubs

han jisung x fem!reader

synopsis: new nurse jisung struggles with constant mistakes under a tough but skilled mentor, but their relationship evolves as they both learn the value of patience and support.

wc: 3578 ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

a/n: i’m sorry but reader is kind of mean in this they make up for it though so don’t worry. :>

Jisung was a bundle of nerves as he stood in the break room, eyes wide as the schedule for his first day of orientation was posted on the board. It was his second day at the hospital, fresh out of nursing school, and everything was still new—still overwhelming. But today was different. Today, he’d be shadowing you.

He had heard a lot about you from the other nurses. You were experienced, patient, and always had a kind word for patients, even when the shifts got tough. And, he had to admit, you were pretty—really pretty, in fact. The way you carried yourself, confident yet compassionate, was something he admired from a distance. The idea of working under you for the next few weeks filled him with both excitement and an inexplicable sense of nervous energy.

You were helping a nurse and adjusting your stethoscope when he saw you in the corridor. Jisung couldn't help but believe you seemed like someone who had it all together because you were calm and professional. He didn't. But he was determined to make an impression on you today. "Hey, Jisung," you called him as soon as you saw him standing outside the nurse's station. His heart skipped a beat when you gave him a brief smile. "Ready for your first shift?"

"Y-yeah, absolutely!" A bit too enthusiastic, he stuttered. "I’m really excited to work with you." You gave him a clipboard after nodding and rearranging the papers in your palm. "All right, let's begin. You'll help with assessments today, and I'll show you the ropes." Jisung gave a hearty nod. He had to do his best, and he would. Especially with you, he didn't want to leave a negative impression.The beginning was fairly easy. You showed him how to take vitals, examine patient history, and do basic medical assessments.

Even though his hands were a little unsteady when he took his first set of vitals, Jisung made an effort to remain composed. He worked very hard to carry out your instructions precisely because he wanted to impress you. His hand slipped, though, and the cuff tightened too quickly just as he was ready to take a blood pressure measurement. When he fumbled with the stethoscope and knocked off the blood pressure cuff, the patient was shocked and sat up abruptly.

Shocked, Jisung blurted out, "I'm so sorry." "I didn’t mean to—" Your patience was already starting to run thin, so you let out a little sigh. "Jisung, you have to focus. This is what you've been trained for. Your nervousness shouldn't get in the way.” His face flushed slightly as he nodded. Although you weren't directly rude, your tone was very cutting. While he had only just begun, he was already making mistakes in front of you.

Later, in an effort to prove that he could manage the more challenging responsibilities, Jisung jumped in too soon when you were helping a patient move from their bed to a chair. He almost caused the patient to lose their balance since he miscalculated their level of mobility. "Jisung!" you yelled, protecting the patient from falling. Your tone was sharper than usual and you were obviously frustrated. "What were you thinking?”

Jisung's cheeks were burning. His words wouldn't come out, but he wanted to clarify that he was only trying to help. In his mind, he had failed miserably.

With a stutter, he said, "I—I just wanted to make sure everything was smooth," hardly meeting your eyes.

With a quick sigh, you squeezed the bridge of your nose. "You are not here to brag; you are here to learn. And ask for help if you're not sure."

Jisung nodded, his confidence fading away by the second. He thought he was an idiot. It always seemed to end badly when he tried to impress you. You left him in charge of seeing a few patients during your lunch break. Jisung made an effort to pay attention strictly to your instructions, but he was still having trouble. He accidentally knocked over a tray of medication when visiting a patient's room to see how they were doing, causing a mess all over the floor.

When you got there, he was crouching on the floor, frantically trying to collect the pills back into their bottles. "Are you kidding me?" you whispered to yourself. You wanted to roll your eyes, but you stopped yourself. It wasn’t like he wasn’t trying—he was just... constantly messing up. Jisung looked up at you and repeated, "I'm so sorry," in a tiny voice. "I’ll... I’ll clean it up."

Right now, you didn't have the energy to show kindness. You knelt beside him and helped him finish gathering up the pills, saying quietly, "It's okay." But you couldn't get rid of the gnawing annoyance. It was beginning to seem like his inexperience would make your day even more difficult, even though you knew it wasn't entirely his fault. The remainder of the shift followed the same pattern: Jisung made a lot of effort but was never successful. You were growing increasingly irritated as the day went on. Every mistake served as a reminder of his true lack of help, and you realized that you were becoming less helpful to him than you should have been.

You were worn out by the end of the day, and Jisung seemed to be as well. Even though he was still trying to keep himself composed, you could see how his shoulders drooped and his eyes averted from yours whenever you talked. "All right, Jisung. Before we wrap up, let's go over everything," you stated, sounding less patient than you had at the beginning of the day.

"okay," he mumbled.

You bit back a sigh. You didn’t want to be harsh, but it was getting harder not to be. When you looked at him, his gaze was downcast, almost as if he were apologizing for existing. You felt a pang of guilt, but your frustration was louder.

"You need to be more careful tomorrow," you said sharply. "And stop trying so hard to impress me. Just... focus on learning, alright?"

Jisung nodded quickly, his face flushed with embarrassment. "Yeah, of course. I—I’ll do better."

As you both clocked out, the shift ended in an uncomfortable silence. Jisung seemed to shrink even more under the weight of his failures, and you couldn’t help but feel the distance growing between you two.

You hated that it felt this way, but you didn’t know how to fix it, either. Maybe tomorrow would be better. Or maybe not.

Either way, it felt like you both had a long road ahead.

—

The hospital was bustling, the air thick with the usual sense of urgency. Jisung was trying his hardest to keep up, but it seemed like every step he took just led him to another mistake. He could feel the weight of your eyes on him every time he did something wrong.

Today was no different. You had asked him to distribute medications to a few patients, a task that should’ve been routine, but his hands were shaking. He double-checked the names, he double-checked the meds—yet his nerves made everything feel ten times harder. He’d just graduated, and he was still struggling to get his footing. He didn’t want to mess up, especially not in front of you.

When Jisung reached a patient's room, he hesitated for a split second, but then quickly handed over the medication, thinking he had everything under control. The patient took the pill without hesitation, but there was something off about the whole exchange. The medication seemed to be for a completely different patient. He hadn’t double-checked properly. He’d gotten distracted.

By the time you came into the room, it was too late.

"Jisung!" you snapped, your tone piercing and brimming with anger. "What the hell are you doing? It's the wrong medication!” Eyes wide, he froze. The patient was confused, but you took action right away to clear the air. Damage had already been done when you hurried to get the medication and ensure the patient's safety.

"Why do I continue struggling with everything by myself?” With a loud voice that was a mixture of despair and rage, you went on, "Are you really going to keep making these simple mistakes?" "If you’re just going to mess everything up, maybe you should get out of the way and let someone else do the job properly."

He knew that the remarks were meant to shake him into action, yet they still pierced him. Still, Jisung felt small at the time. He was unable to look you in the eye. He muttered, "I—I'm sorry," but you were already turning to leave, your body seething in frustration.

The remainder of the day was a blur of mistakes, each one getting worse. Jisung had trouble focusing on anything. He was certain that he wasn't suited for this job and that he was failing at everything. He made a lot of attempts to gain your approval, but each time he failed, he made matters worse.

You assigned him a different nurse to shadow by the afternoon. When you said, "Go work with Felix today," you were abrupt. "Maybe you’ll do better with him."

Jisung's heart fell.

Although Felix was nice, it was obvious that you had had enough of him because he was now being removed from your supervision. Trying to hide his disappointment, he nodded and went with Felix to the next patient room.

Felix had just as much experience as you did, if not more. In contrast to your direct, no-nonsense approach, he was patient and kind to Jisung. With his constant smiles, jokes, and easy explanations, he helped Jisung feel a little more comfortable. Nevertheless, the feeling that everything was falling apart continued.

You were on your way to the break room when you heard a low voice talking to someone as you passed the staff lounge. "Are you okay?" Felix's tone was polite and warm as he asked. In an attempt to mask what was happening, Jisung sniffed. "Yeah, just... it’s been a rough day." After a brief period of silence, Felix gently asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Jisung sighed deeply before his voice broke. "I just feel like I've ruined everything. Like I'm not worthy." Felix was silent for a while. A chair began to rustle, and soon Felix's voice could be heard once more. "You're new to this. Making mistakes is normal. But seem to be way too hard on yourself. What's happening?” Jisung hesitated, his words barely heard above a murmur. "I just wanted to show her that i was capable. I thought... I thought she was really nice. I thought she was pretty, too. I wanted to show her I could do this, you know? But everything I’ve done today, I’ve screwed up. I feel like I’ve let her down."

Felix's voice became even softer. "I know she's hard on you, Jisung, but it's not because she doesn't believe you can succeed. She knows you can, which is why she is pushing you. Don't be so hard on yourself. We've all been in your position. even her.” Trying not to cry, Jisung sniffed once more. "I just have the feeling that I might not be meant for this. I keep failing, even though I wanted to show her that I could manage it.” You were still while you stood in the hallway. As you listened to him, your heart hurt. He was just putting in a lot of effort. You were oblivious of the amount of pressure he had to put on himself to live up to your expectations. You hadn’t realized how much your sharp words were hurting him.

He wasn’t just a clumsy new nurse trying to find his footing—he was someone who admired you, someone who wanted to prove he could be more than just a rookie.

You stood there for a long moment, conflicted. You didn’t want to intrude, but at the same time, you knew that this was a moment for you to act. But you didn’t step into the room. You just quietly continued with your day, letting the weight of his words sit with you.

The next morning, you woke up early, a quiet resolve settling over you. You couldn’t just let the previous day end the way it did. You had been too harsh on Jisung, and it wasn’t just the mistake he’d made. It was your reaction to it.

You grabbed a coffee on your way into the hospital, thinking of how to apologize. You’d never been one to be overly sentimental, but this felt different. This wasn’t about him being a bad nurse—it was about you, and how you’d let your frustration cloud your better judgment.

When you got there, Jisung was seated at the nurse's station, nervously shuffling papers with his head down. He appeared to have had little sleep, and you felt guilty once more. With your coffee in hand, you approached him and placed it silently on the counter in front of him. Startled, Jisung blinked up at you. With hesitation in his voice, he questioned, "What’s this?"

"A coffee," you replied plainly, your eyes gentle. Then you put a little note beside it. Despite your inability to find the correct words, you managed to write something that seemed sincere:

I’m sorry about yesterday. You're doing good. Don't give up and don't be scared to ask for help when you need it. You're not alone. [y/n]

You said nothing else. You simply turned to go, but as you did so, you could feel his eyes on you, looking at you with a mix of appreciation and confusion.

—

After the coffee incident, everything felt different in the days that followed. You and Jisung's interactions had a slight change. Although Jisung first appeared hesitant, he immediately accepted your apologies with a small, shy smile. Because of the decreased tension between you two, you realized that you were more understanding of him, particularly when he was having trouble. You were actively working to further his potential, even though it wasn't like you hadn't seen it before. He cared about doing his work well, and it was evident that he wanted to get better. There existed a part of you that valued that.

Jisung was given a particularly challenging patient one morning—an elderly man who was rude and demanding. All morning, he had acted aggressively toward the staff, refusing to take his medication and making disparaging remarks about the standard of care. Jisung appeared to be struggling to control the situation as he still tried to get the hang of things. When the patient shouted louder, you could see his shoulders hunch and his eyes dart to you for support. You said softly, "Hey, it's okay," as you approached Jisung. "I'll take over for a while with Mr. Kim. You go out to take a break.”

Jisung paused, obviously attempting to manage things on his own, but as you looked at him encouragingly, he nodded appreciatively. You took charge of the situation gently as you entered the room in a composed, commanding manner. You recognized the patient's difficulties while simultaneously speaking in a respectful manner. You had mastered the delicate balance over the years, but Jisung was clearly still learning how to do it.

After a few minutes, the patient’s tone softened, and he grudgingly accepted his medication.

Once you were out of the room, Jisung gave you a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, I... I didn’t know how to handle him. He was just so... rude."

"You’ll get there," you reassured him. "It’s all part of the learning process. You don’t have to take it personally when they’re like that."

Jisung looked a little more confident, and you could see a sense of relief in his expression. "I’ll try not to next time."

"Good," you said, giving him a small pat on the shoulder. "But don’t forget—if you’re ever in doubt, don’t hesitate to ask for help."

It wasn’t just the patient encounters that changed, though. You started to make more of an effort to help him with the technical aspects of nursing as well. Whether it was giving him feedback on his charting, offering tips on patient interaction, or even just showing him how to use equipment more efficiently, you took the time to mentor him with more patience than before.

One afternoon, during a break, you pulled Jisung aside. You weren’t sure what had made you want to do this, but you felt like it was time.

"Jisung," you said softly, taking a deep breath. "I wanted to talk to you for a second."

He looked up at you, a little startled. "Yeah? Is everything okay?"

You exhaled, feeling the weight of your previous actions. "I’ve been thinking a lot about how I treated you when you first started. And I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry. I wasn’t fair to you, and I shouldn’t have snapped like that. I’ve been tough on you, and I feel terrible about it."

Jisung’s eyes softened immediately, and he gave a small, understanding smile. "It’s okay. Really. I... I know I’ve been messing up a lot, and I get it. I think you were just frustrated. I get it."

You felt a sense of relief wash over you. "I don’t want you to feel like you’re not doing well. You are doing well, Jisung. You’re just new, and it’s okay to make mistakes. I should’ve supported you better."

His smile widened a little. "Thank you. I really appreciate it. And... I’m sorry too, for messing up so much. I want to be better."

You nodded, smiling back at him. "You are better. Every day you get better."

As the weekend approached, you found yourself getting more comfortable around Jisung. He wasn’t just a trainee anymore; he was someone you could talk to, someone you actually enjoyed working with. There was still that initial spark of admiration you’d felt for him, but now it was tempered by mutual respect.

That Friday, as the end of your shift neared, you threw out an invitation you hadn’t planned on making but had been thinking about all day.

You looked over at him and said, "Hey, a bunch of us are going to the bar after work," "Usually, Felix and I go with a few other nurses. Do you want to join us?” Jisung's eyes became a little wider. "Oh! Yes, of course, I would love to.” You said, "Good," with a tiny smile on your lips. "It will be fun. You deserve a break.”

That evening, you found yourself at the small bar that all the nurses and hospital staff frequented after shifts. The atmosphere was laid-back, a welcome contrast to the chaos of the hospital. You, Jisung, Felix, and a couple of other nurses sat around a table, talking about everything but work. The drinks flowed freely, laughter echoed around the room, and for the first time in days, you allowed yourself to relax.

You discovered you had a lot in common with Jisung, who was unexpectedly easy to talk to outside of work. You realized how much you two had in common. you both loved music, and you shared some of your favorite songs with him. He was interested in photography, something you had experimented with when you were younger. You even shared stories about awkward childhood experiences and your shared passion for late-night snacking.

You two realized at the end of the night that you had been talking for hours on end without even realizing how quickly the time had passed. Everyone had gone home, leaving the two of you standing outside the bar in a comfortable silence.

"I had a great time," Jisung said, his voice quiet but sincere. "Thanks for inviting me."

"Yeah, me too," you replied, your heart unexpectedly fluttering. "I’m glad you came."

He hesitated for a moment, then, asked "Can I... walk you to your car? I mean, since it’s pretty late and all."

You smiled back, a little surprised by the gesture, but it felt nice. "Sure."

The two of you walked in silence for a few moments before stopping in front of your car. Jisung looked at you, his expression soft but uncertain, and you could see the faintest trace of vulnerability in his eyes.

"Thanks for tonight," he said, his voice a little lower now, as if unsure of what to say next.

You tilted your head, feeling the moment shift, something that had been building all night, maybe even all week. You weren’t sure why, but in that instant, you felt drawn to him in a way you hadn’t expected. You leaned in, your movements slow and deliberate, and before you knew it, your lips brushed against his in a brief but meaningful kiss.

Jisung’s breath hitched slightly, and when you pulled away, you both looked at each other, surprised by the tenderness of the moment.

"Goodnight, Jisung," you said softly, smiling a little more than you expected to.

"Goodnight," he replied, his voice almost shy, but there was a warmth in his smile that made your heart skip a beat.

As you got into your car, you couldn’t help but think about the way the night had unfolded. Maybe things had changed between you and Jisung in more ways than just professionally. Maybe it wasn’t just a mentor-mentee relationship anymore.

—

nini’s notes 111324

hello everyone (: i hope you’re all doing super well.

i hope you enjoy this, i was never going to post because i didn’t know how to end it so the ending is definitely/feels rushed so sorry about that 😭. this was originally supposed to be kind of a love triangle thing between jisung, reader, and chan but i didn’t end up liking how it was turning out :>

this was inspired by a snippet of the new show st. denis medical i actually haven’t had time to watch it yet but i heard that it’s really good & accurate. Lol.

asks are always open if you have a question, concern, or request!

-🎀

#stray kids imagines #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #stray kids angst #han jisung x you #han angst #han jisung #han jisung x reader #kpop angst #kpop x y/n #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #skz fanfic #skz angst

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soobinskii · 9 months ago

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knee socks - n.riki

warnings : exbf!niki | angst/fluff, hurt/comfort , not proofread.

you absolutely hated your ex-boyfriend, nishimura riki, otherwise known as niki. you couldn't stand seeing him, hearing his voice or even thinking about him. the slightest hint towards niki would send you into an internal rage.

on a day where you were just miserable, of course the thought of not missing niki as much as you thought clouded your head. as you dropped a hot dish all over yourself, of course a little voice in the back of your head asked "what would niki think of this?" you didn't really care what he would think, right? all those times when your bed was empty and just felt so cold, so vacant. when you would try to hug your pillow to shut out your thoughts of the man you once loved.

directly after the breakup, the illness you had seem to come down with. all the coughing and sneezing due to the chilly weather. drinking cup after cup of hot tea, ingesting cough drops like you were a child with candy. the following tuesday, it seemed to rain a little bit harder as you sat in a corner of your living room, all bundled up in a coat. all you could ask yourself is "where is niki? why did he leave?" you couldn't seem to accept the fact that he was truly done with you, just like that.

then, a few months later, you think you're finally over him. finally over all the memories, the joy, tears, and all of the inbetween. that night if you weren't up until midnight, glancing at the new clock on your nightstand; zeros lined up showing you the start of a new day. maybe if you didn't check the notifications on your phone then, you wouldn't have seen the text from him. even if the number was blocked, you still knew who it was.

all of a sudden it was bringing up all of the old feelings. the sorrow, ecstasy, all of them. you felt like you were at a loss for words when the words on your screen said "(y/n), i miss you. can i please come over?" you almost felt betrayed, like he had abandoned you for nearly half a year and, now he wants to come back. just like that?

you decide to respond with the most dull answer you could provide (or so you thought). "what do you want?" it was either going to be the worst or best decision of your year, possibly even your life. it could bring back the old gloom, or it could create yet another chapter in your life alongside nishimura riki.

"i just need to talk to you," he replies. "i need to see you."

you decide to give in, allowing him into your space, allowing old feelings to be brought up again. to be quite frank, you want to see him aswell but, you'd never admit that if someone asked. you'd always brush off questions that have something to do with him, changing the subject or even completely ignoring the inquiry as a whole.

as soon as you saw niki at your front door, you'd immediately noticed his new haircut. the fresh undercut suiting his chiseled features as if he was sculpted by the gods themselves. you immediately recognize his familiar cologne, and the outfit he wears if he wishes to "impress someone casually" as he'd put it. your heart immediately swelled up woefully at the sight of him.

you allowed him in, as he stepped through the doorway, he handed you a bar of your favorite chocolate. you inspected it as you ventured over to the living room, unsure if this was all real or a hopeless illusion created in your slumber. as he sat on the couch he let out a breath that seemed like he had held it in for the six months that he hadn't seen you. the two of you sat together, the air thick and tense as you set the bar of chocolate onto the coffee table. you moved slowly and hesitantly, as if he was going to break if you moved any faster.

"i am so sorry, (y/n). i know it's late but i really just wanted to give this a chance and now felt like the right time." niki started, "i just wanted to tell you that i shouldn't have gotten that angry, that you were right, i needed to calm down. i should've just taken a breath and backed away or something. i would give anything just to have you back, and i deeply regret shouting at you like that"

as he rambled on about being apologetic, a few select words stuck out to you. 'i would do anything to have you back' the only words that described how you felt for these past months. the only words you wished he would randomly say to you on lonely nights. words that you cried over day after day, desperately trying to figure things out. the only words that made you stop him from talking, that made you go on autopilot and grab his hand. exactly how you used to do it when he was upset over something.

the feeling of your hand on his, resting over his knuckles made him stutter and stumble over his words. it made niki look at you with a glint of confusion and hope in his eyes. when you locked eyes with him, you could feel all of his emotions drain into you as you teared up. "you want me back?" you whispered to him, with droplets threatening to fall down your cheeks. he nodded, glossy eyes shimmering in the dim light of the lamps on the table.

you cupped his face in your hands, eyes wide and searching for confirmation. confirmation of reality yet again. niki did something that you never expected.

you never expected it when he first broke up with you, nor when he texted you a few hours ago… he kissed you. his plump lips against yours felt exactly how they always did. his chapstick tasted the same, and in that moment you had forgotten about all of the old memories; willing to make new ones instead of dwelling on the past.

neither of you had never expected that night to end with drifting off to a (finally) peaceful sleep in the other's arms.

a/n : this was just something quick i wrote in about an hour, sorry if its all over the place. i hope you enjoyed & please consider reblogging !! <3

#nishimura riki #enhypen niki #enha x reader #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen smut #enhypen drabbles #riki nishimura x reader #niki nishimura #niki smut #Spotify

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anon-sect · 3 months ago

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Request Part 1D

Hi, I love your stories, and I was wondering if you could make a transformation story about socks and/or underwear based on these images here.

deviantart.com/sebleloot/art/Handsome-men-in-socks-1097214222

Tayon woke up the next morning, feeling refreshed and ready to start his day. He remembered the previous night at the club and how he came home with a special pair of socks and underwear. Two of the guys told him their names, but the third didn't. The last one he found rather rude, so it didn't matter if he knew his name or not. As for the other two, he had completely forgotten their names. Honestly, he didn't care if he remembered them. They were just socks to be worn on his feet anyway.

After bathing, he put on his socks and underwear. He stood in the mirror, admiring how he looked. He saw himself as incredibly handsome, but he looked even better in his new underwear and socks. They felt so good on his body. The socks had the right amount of thickness to support his feet which was a bonus. His underwear was tight around his waist, but yet comfortable enough for him to breath. He rubbed the crotch area of the underwear. He knew exactly where he had placed the guy's face at. For being so rude to him, the crotch area will all he gets to see for the rest of his life. That thought put a smile on his face.

Blake was mentally screaming for mercy being wrapped around the guy's foot. Whatever spell he put on him had worn off. Being a sock on a foot was not something he wanted to be. He couldn't move or speak. He was completely immobilized on Tayon's foot. Any motion would be caused by the motion of his owner's foot. He hated that fact. Being stood and walked on was extremely painful. He had never felt such pain before. It felt like huge boulder crushing him without killing him. It was a miserable existence.

Jason was constantly cursing the guy even though Tayon could not hear a single mental thought. He thought it was cruel of him to turn others into just objects for him to wear on his body. He heard about Blake and that he was s sock just like him. All the anger he had made him forget about the crushing pain he was under at the mercy of Tayon's foot. If he could somehow regain his humanity, he would so destroy this guy, he thought. But he was powerless as he was just being worn on foot without a care from the owner who was wearing him.

Alex didn't know how he should feel at the moment. He really should feel disgusted with the guy, but partly he wasn't. He rather found the guy's dick hot. Being so close to it was kind of enjoyable. He thought of a worse fate than being the guy's underwear and it was being stuck on his feet like his friends are. The guy really did look attractive to him, so being stuck as underwear for an attractive guy wasn't too bad so far.

Tayon finished getting ready for his day and went into work at the law firm. Majority of the day, he was usually sitting at his desk going over case information to be ready for court in about two weeks. He would sometimes think about his socks and underwear. All three were former human beings who now exists as his articles of clothing. He honestly wasn't out at the club to find guys to turn into objects, but they were just too tempting not to do it. Now, it really didn't matter their fate. He was liking his new socks and underwear.

Alex found himself enjoying his situation over the course of several hours while Tayon was at work. He finally knew the guy's name after hearing his coworkers and friends chatting with him. It felt somewhat degrading to hear him talk with others at work as though nothing strange was going on. Tayon was literally wearing another person as his underwear and was acting as though he was wearing normal underwear. But it also showed how much Tayon saw him as nothing but property he owned. Even the little bit of musk and odor didn't bother him. He simply absorbed all of it to keep him dry and smelling fresh. His initial anger against Tayon subsided and he found himself wanting to serve the guy who turned him into underwear without his consent.

Jason thought being socks couldn't get worse. He found himself to be so wrong. The dress shoes that Tayon wore to work smelled so horrible. The odor had completely saturated every surface on the inside of the shoe. The Insole smelled the worse. He could feel the indentions of the insole caused by constant wear on his feet. The toe wiggling was even more torture. It was like Tayon was constantly showing him who was the object and who was the owner. He could barely hear the conversations going on up above him. He wanted to call out for help to others to rescue him from Tayon's feet, but he lacks the ability to do so.

Blake wanted to get far away from the odor he was trapped in. The shoe was like being trapped in a smelly prison with no way out. The insole he was pressed up against smelled worse than the rest of the shoe. He mentally pleaded for some release from the odor. He couldn't even squirm to show his discomfort about being socks. He was forced to absorb all his foot sweat and odor off his foot. This new existence was a complete nightmare.

Tayon returned home later on that night from the office and took off his shoes. He sniffed just one of them and turned up his nose. "That smells bad. Good thing I wasn't trapped in that." He commented about his shoe and then smiled. The thought entered his mind that two former humans were trapped in there all day while he was just working and chilling with his coworkers. He pulled off his socks and smelled them. They reeked of his foot odor, but was amazed at how dry his feet were. "You two truly are the best socks I ever had." He spoke to them. He checked around his waist and discovered the same thing. His matching socks and underwear were just perfect. There was no way he could let them go now. He had to keep them as his property. In fact, he thought he should collect more matching socks and underwear. "I can always use more human transformed socks and underwear." he spoke to his socks.

Blake and Jason mentally cried for mercy, knowing they were powerless to change their fate. Alex was in bliss as he loved being around Tayon waist and up close to this cock. He actually enjoying his new life as Tayon's underwear.

#inanimate transformation #foot domination #shrinkage #tf story #sock transformation #permanent transformation #unwilling permanent transformation #underwear transformation

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stellabk · 2 months ago

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FVRY OF THE FIRE

Part IV

Author’s note - Hi! So, I thought I posted part 4 last night after work, and I looked and it was gone. Not just form tumblr, but also my google docs so I had a heart attack. I cried since I had to rewrite it, but this one turned out better than the original in my opinion, so I hope you like it!

Summary - No amount of delaying could push the wedding off any longer. Deianira is forced to marry the tyrant that her father has sent her and her sister to bring down, yet she seems to grow a small soft spot for him.

Warning(s) - blood, violence, a bit of sexual abuse, public displays of affection; of you see any grammar mistakes or missed warnings please let me know!

Deianira’s eyes fluttered open as the sun shone through the curtains that billowed above the balcony. She smiled at the feeling of the sun warming her cheeks and the chill the gentle breeze brought. It would have been a day she would’ve loved to enjoy if it weren’t for the harsh realization that she was to be married today. Her smile faded as it weighed her down, making her groan as she threw her feet from off the side of the plush bed.

“Good morning, your grace. Today is the day!” Aelia entered with a tray of fresh fruits and bread that still steamed from its warmth. Aelia handed her an apple from the tray, smiling at the way her mistress scrunched her nose in distaste at her statement. “I know it’s not ideal, but I’m selfishly glad that you are stuck with me, ma’am.”

”There is no other woman who I enjoy being trapped in a grand palace with.”

Deia had spent all morning with Aelia and a few other maidservants, first getting scrubbed and polished in the bathhouse like a priceless artifact, emerging smelling of apple blossoms and pomegranate. They lined her eyes with kohl, rouged her cheeks a delicate cherry color, glossed her nails, and adorned her with jewels and finery from the top of her head to her toes. She looked like a proper empress now with all of the embellishments, not able to take her eyes off the new mirror that had been brought in while she bathed. The sight of herself made her forget just how miserable she felt only moments ago.

“They will be expecting you at the temple, empress. Come,” Aelia motioned for the future empress to follow as they delicately bounced through the halls, smiling and laughing.

In front of the temple, Deia’s sinking feeling returned as she stood on the other side of the doors, knowing just what awaited her on the other side.

“Lia, dear, how many people would you say are inside?”

”The whole court of important politicians and close friends of the emperors, I’m sure, but do not fret. Just look to your future husband and all shall turn out right.”

’If that doesn’t work, your sister is sure to be close to Caracalla; look at her and she shall erase all tension you feel,” another servant chimed in.

Deia faced the door once more, shimmying her feet further back into her sandals, and took one last deep breath before the door opened before her. The people stood and stared at her in awe, looking as if a true goddess had stepped in their midst. Deia forced her heavy lead feet forward, pushing herself to where Emperor Geta stood waiting for her. He had a smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He seemed exhausted. She shook the thought from her head, instead opting for focusing on the floor. She couldn’t look at her sister or she would cry, knowing that there was no escape for either of them.

She grew closer and closer to the end of the aisle, her steps growing heavier with every pace she made. She stopped in front of the two stairs that kept her from Geta, a hand with a ring on every finger outstretching into her line of vision. She looked up to see her future husband smiling at her, and she took the hand, breaking the invisible barrier that kept her from standing at his side.

The officiant stood in front of the both of them, rambling on about the Gods in a monotonous, bland tone that made Deia want to yawn. She glanced at Geta through her peripheral, noticing he no longer smiled and looked like he had been drinking. He smelled as if he’d been drinking too. She turned back to the officiant, bored out of her mind. He continued to drone on, the future empress tuning him out and looking at the grand statue of the God Mars looking down on them, helmet just showing his eyes and spear in his hand. She looked at him wondering why his eyes seemed to be so full of life unlike the other statues she had seen around the palace. A cough broke her concentration on the statue, snapping her attention back to the officiant.

“You may kiss your bride, emperor.”

The two of them faced each other, Geta’s superficial smile returning to his face, as he reached a shaky hand toward her cheek. He leaned in, placing a kiss on her lips ever so gently. He pulled away, releasing a sigh. The crowd cheered for the newlywed couple.

A banquet was held with the same people who were at the ceremony to celebrate the new union and empress, food and the best reserves of wine were laid out on a grand table. Deia walked around without her groom, examining the decoration and getting stopped by a few people to voice their congratulations. She looked toward the center of the table, a rhinoceros head with its meats delicately and morbidly served as if it were a common dish. She shuddered at the sight, swallowing the bile that raised in her throat at the sight. She took deep breaths as she made to exit the banquet hall and look over the railing down at the city below. It was beautiful this time of night, the stars sparkled in the sky as the chatter of men and women of the market packed up their valuables to go back to their homes.

”Lovely, isn’t it?”

Deia startled and turned around quickly, bracing herself on the railing to prevent her fall. Geta chuckled at the reaction as he grew closer and looked out over the city beside her. “I love coming up here when the city looks like this. You can hear every conversation below from here.”

”It is quite nice,” Deia looked at him, her back still resting against the edge of the railing. “Have you come to push me over and tell the court that your young bride has met her untimely demise?”

Geta laughed once again. “I actually came to make sure you were alright. It must have been something quite bad for a bride to leave her own wedding celebration.”

”It was,” she looked at her feet, Geta looking at her now with a twinge of anger that someone could have potentially ruined the party for his empress. “There was a rhinoceros’s head just lying on the table. I thought surely I would become ill.”

Geta let out the loudest, most genuine laugh as his head fell into the palm of his hand, Deia’s tension flying away as she allowed herself to laugh with him. Geta relaxed in the silence, watching as the moonlight made his bride's hair resemble cooling embers. He felt at peace as if all the voices screaming in his head had silences to stand in awe of her as well. His peace was broken as the door opened, a voice growing closer. He didn’t think, it was stupid to pull her in, yet he did. He pushed the sleeve of her shoulder down and sank his teeth in, the other hand flying to her mouth before she could yelp.

”Oh, brother. I didn't mean to interrupt time with your bride… at least defile her in your own chambers instead of the corridors, dog.”

Geta pulled his mouth from Deia’s shoulder, turning to his brother. “I wished for everyone to know she was mine, that is all.”

”Well, they requested you back in the banquet hall. They wish to make a toast soon.”

Caracalla shook his head with a smirk as he returned to the celebration. Geta turned back to his bride, a swift, sturdy hit landed to his gut. He slumped to his knees in slow motion, seeing that Deianira had kicked him, which made him smirk through a grimace.

”If you wanted me to come to my knees, wife, all you had to do was ask.”

She grabbed him by the hair, yanking his head so he could look at her face. “A mark for a mark. To think I almost enjoyed a sliver of time with you. Know this, it shall be the last for as long as I breathe. Goodnight, husband.”

She dropped the hold she had on his hair, storming off toward her room and leaving him alone in the darkened hall. He collected himself off the floor, hearing Caracalla beginning a toast in the hall as he stood against the cold stone wall to listen in, still holding his stomach where it ached. Caracalla quipped that Geta was supposed to make the toast to his bride, but had most likely disappeared to consummate the marriage. The crowd of mostly men had laughed heartily, but Geta felt a pain in his chest. He knew why he had bitten her, but he doubted she would stop to hear him out. Still, he had to try to explain himself. He ran down the hallway that his bride had run down, trying to catch up.

Deia slammed the door to her bedchambers, letting all of her anger explode in a loud scream that echoed through the room and shook nearby objects. She took off rings and threw them on tables, taking one of her sandals off and chucking it at the door. The shoe sailed through the air, and Geta entered, ducking just in time to narrowly evade the hurling sandal.

“Have you come to sink your teeth in again, your highness, or was one lashing not enough for you?”

Geta glanced at the sandal that had slipped through the crack in the door he had just come through, then back at Deianira. “I hope you plan to get that later on.”

Deia growled, taking off the other sandal, ready to throw the second one. Geta held his hands up in surrender. “I came to see if you would hear me out.”

”I will hear nothing from you after your vulgar display. Get out or I swear my aim will ring true with this sandal.”

“You have to be the most stubborn woman of akk I have ever met, have you ever been told that?”

Deia shrugged, still holding the sandal above her head. “Once or twice before. Now leave me to my peace.”

”I don’t think you know the definition of peace. You seem to be of the bloodline of Mars.”

”I knew peace until you and your tyrant brother forced me here. Just because you knew no fatherly love does not mean you had to rip me and my sister from ours!” She got in his face, spittle flying to his cheek. The blow had been delivered, an arrow right through Geta’s chest. He felt as if it were a real attack and that he would crumble in a bloody heap on the floor.

”I shall grant you the peace you want. Goodnight, empress.”

As he left, closing the door behind him, the second sandal was launched, colliding with the door as it closed. The thud shaking Geta to his core.

Geta entered his own bed chambers, his servant behind him.

”Are you sure, emperor? This seems to be quite extreme.”

”Quite sure. If the court were to find out, they would treat her cruelly. We must ensure she stays in good graces. If you tell a soul, you shall be thrown in the Coliseum before first light, understood?”

The man watched the emperor as he sat on the bed with the small knife in his hand, holding the handle out to the servant. The servant nodded, taking the blade, and cut a small incision on the emperor’s thigh. Geta hissed, but bit it back as the crimson flowed and made a small pool on the white bed linens. He nodded, satisfied by the result, as the servant began to cleanse his leg. Though satisfied, Geta only stared into the red stain with a grim expression, his thoughts only echoing one thing: she will be safe now.

#emperor geta x fem reader #emperor geta x female reader #emperor geta fanfic #emperor geta fanfiction #emperor geta x reader #emperor geta #gladiator ii smut #gladiator 2 smut #gladiator ll #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #joseph quinn gladiator #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fanfiction #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic

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georgiapeach30513 · 1 year ago

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A Snowflake Melts, Part 2

Summary: a blizzard is coming

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: mild

Warnings: mild language, just one bed, stalking, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3.5K

Series Masterlist

A scent. It wasn’t much. But Jack has gone off less than that before. It was getting a bit close to Christmas, but he had already made early rounds. Who cares if winter is longer than usual? He had bigger problems; finding you. You are what’s important. Your family even said so. They are growing suspicious of him, which means you are talking to someone, but spreading lies about his relationship, and what actually happened.

He never got a chance to explain. Winter relied on him. And you, just like a coward left. He growls, sitting down on the tree branch as he looks at the beauty he created. Once you told him that he made things look magical. That you loved winter, and would always stay in winter. You promised on your stupid cat that you couldn’t live where there wasn’t snow…

He jumps onto the crystallized snow, his feet leaving large craters in the icy white, and he just walks. He smelled you. Marshmallows. The best thing he’s ever smelt. You are close. He knows it. Blowing out a long breath a large gust of wind stirs up more snow. He cracks his neck as he starts to trudge through what you called the most beautiful thing on earth. Fresh fallen snow. Purity. A new start.

He would find you. And you would be his.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you get on to your Mistletoe who perches on the counter beside you. Her judging green eyes watch you as you look out your kitchen window. Winter is getting worse. You thought you had chosen a place that snowed a lot, but this is different.

“I know what this means,” you are out here all alone. And with winter like this, you shouldn’t go outside and care for the animals. The very ones that were keeping you alive. “Missy, they’ll starve if I don’t.”

She snarls and hisses at you, looking out towards Steve’s cabin. “I can’t…we barely know him.”

Meow.

“I can’t go out in the snow even if I wanted to. Jack will find us. And judging by this storm that wasn’t on the radar…Missy, he’s close.”

Meow.

Mistletoe jumps down from the counter, and lifts her paw to scratch at the door. This cat is too smart for her own good. She wants to collect Steve. And you’re sure he doesn’t understand her way of communicating. You aren’t even sure you did, or if it’s because of your seclusion.

“What are you going to do, tell him to get his butt down here with Sugar Cookie, and we live in the cabin for the rest of the winter and make him sleep on the couch?” Missy stares at you, pawing at the door again.

You couldn’t stop looking up the road, waiting for him to come back down here to you. It is ridiculous how everyday you would hope for a visit from him. You enjoyed his company. He made you not feel so alone, while also it was nice to look at him. And he was funny. He was kind. He was everything you had always wanted.

His eyes. My goodness he had the sweetest eyes. His dog is very cute as well. And…

Mistletoe scratches at the air and lets out an angry hiss towards you. “You know I can’t go out in the snow, and I don’t know how to get in touch with Steve. He just shows up at the right time.”

She growls at you again, and you exhale loudly. “Fine,” walking over to the door, you give it a tug, letting her shimmy out. Her toned legs carry her directly towards Steve’s house. With a bit of a struggle, you close and lock the door immediately. Dropping the curtain.

Jack would want your Christmas to be miserable. Bitter and cold. Sighing, you start to close all the curtains around the house. If he couldn’t see you, he couldn’t find you. If you didn’t invite him in, he couldn’t get to you. There is enough stuff in the basement to keep you well fed. Steve had even stacked up firewood beside your heater, even more on the porch.

You didn’t talk about Jack. He just knew you were afraid of winter. And they were the same thing.

—

Steve jolts in his chair when he hears the tiny scratches, and even Sugar Cookie wiggles her entire body as she moves for the door waiting on her owner to open up. Mistletoe dashes in, meowing up at Steve. “Well, hello, you little bully. What can I do for you today?”

Circling Steve’s feet, she walks over to the door, looking back to the man, and Sugar Cookie joins in to look at him. “She’s not in trouble is she?” Mistletoe huffs, looking up at Steve. “So…is your mom just wanting me to visit? Clearly we need to exchange phone numbers. I don’t turn my phone off. Okay, okay,” he grins, grabbing for his phone and coat. Opening up the door to let both animals out, but Mistletoe stops.

Her ears twitch around, and her eyes look all around before she dashes down the road. “Sugar, let’s go, sweetheart. That cat never gets in a hurry.”

His feet slams into the snow as the wind whips around the odd trio. Beating the animals to the porch, he knocks quickly on the door, and it isn’t until Mistletoe lets out a blood curdling meow that you look up from the middle of the floor, “Missy?”

Walking to the door, you press your head against it. Fear courses through your veins after that sound, “Baby, are you alone?”

“Holly, it’s me.”

“Steve? She brought you? I’m being so rude,” you get an eerie feeling when you open the door. Inhaling deeply, just to be sure. No peppermint. You are safe, for now, “Thanks for tapping the snow off,” even if you hadn't known him long he always seems to remember your needs.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” You couldn’t deny your splotchy face and red rimmed eyes. But you don’t want to talk about it either. Steve would think you’re crazy. No one would ever understand your family dynamic. Instead you just shake your head, wiping away the stray tears on your face.

“I don’t want to force you, but you gotta give me something. Missy kinda scared me.”

“There’s a storm going on, and…it wasn’t on the radar, and I don’t want to be alone,” unannounced storms always meant Jack’s anger. He still hadn’t forgotten. He is still looking for you.

“Okay, you gotta couch,” even though his fingers are ice cold from outside, when he touches your arm, and pulls your body into his, it’s pure warmth. A coziness that feels like hot chocolate running down into your tummy. “I’ll leave the animals here. Let me get some more firewood loaded up, and clothes, and some extra food because I eat a lot. We’ll have a freeze-in, okay?”

“Did it smell like peppermint out there?” You hate that scent. It always meant Jack was near. He doesn’t laugh or look at you like you’re crazy. His smile softens as he hugs you again.

“No, let me get all that ready. The way this snow is coming down, I don’t have much time. I’m sure it’ll be piled all the way up to the windows. You stay here. Keep the doors locked, and breathe. When I come back, I’ll let you make some of your amazing soup while you tell me what’s really going on. I’ll even make brownies.”

You don’t want him to leave, and still understand why he needs to. Biting at your lip, you nod your head. “Don’t start cutting any vegetables until I get back, okay?”

“Okay,” he bundles himself up before heading towards the door again, “Steve, be careful, okay?”

“I will. You stay right here. Wood, more food, and clothes.”

“Toothbrush.”

“That, too. Stay warm,” he playfully demands before swiftly squeezing through the door.

“So, you gonna tell more about it?” You take a sip of your hot chocolate, your eyes staring blankly at Sugar Cookie and Mistletoe snuggling together by the door. Mistletoe always stayed close to the door in winter. Sometimes she’d hop into the bed with you, but she stood her guard by the main entrance. She is a smart kitty after all.

It had been so long since you fully got to snuggle with someone during your favorite time of year. You should be joyful, and instead you let your photography stop, you quit calling your parents, hell you left the most magical place in the world all because of Jack.

You now lived in so much isolation, you lost a bit of yourself. You turn your head away from Steve as you gaze at the curtains covering the big window in the living room. You loved snow. Loved to watch the tiny little snowflakes drift to the earth. You would have never had the curtains closed. You couldn’t even remember if Jack watched the snow with you.

So much of the good times were forgotten as his forever cold heart couldn’t take your glowing warmth. A joy that burned brightly in your soul like embers in a fire.

“You love and fear the winter,” he isn’t even asking. He hasn’t known you long, but he can see it. You nod your head, still keeping your head turned away from him. Having to wipe away a tear that didn’t want to stay put. “You don’t have to talk about it, Holly. I’m just trying to understand. We got a few days of being trapped in here.”

“You’re right,” sniffling, you turn to look back at the girls, as Steve sweetly calls them. They’re comfortable. Missy actually looks like she’s resting. “It’s hard being alone, and scared of winter, and still, I can’t leave.”

“An ex?” Of course Steve could sense that you were running and hiding from someone.

“Yeah,” you sigh, turning to fully look at Steve. “He wasn’t always bad. He’s different. Very powerful, and thrives this time of year. He became cold and unkind, and then possessive and obsessive, and…Steve, he wasn’t nice,” Steve looks away for a few seconds, his jaw clenching tight, and his knuckles turning white from how hard he’s gripping the couch.

“Did…did he,” he takes a deep breath, finally looking at you. “Did he hurt you?”

“It’s complicated,” his hand moves towards you, and you have to look at Missy, and her lazy self is snoring with Sugar Cookie. She was comfortable with Steve. She never had this sense of comfort with Jack. “No, it is complicated. He just…he’s always trying to compete with my dad, and…”

“Did he hurt you?” .

“He’s out of my life though.”

“And you’re still hiding, and afraid to touch something that you love,” even though you can feel his anger, you don’t fear him like you did with Jack. Steve’s anger is protective, and it gives you this strange feeling of importance. He wanted to keep you safe.

“He’s very powerful. You don’t understand.”

There’s a moment drifting between you and Steve, and only the girls’ snores and the crackling of the fireplace can be heard. You aren’t even sure if you’re breathing anymore, just waiting on what he has to say. This is going to be awkward starting off with an argument.

“I want to understand, and I’ll listen whenever you want to explain it to me. For now, why don’t you tell me about your family. Your dad is still alive?” You love talking about your family. They are the best family, and you hate that you’re having to be away from them in any capacity. “What’s his name?”

“Kris. My mom’s name is Carol.”

“There’s that smile. The one you were too shy to share with me. Why do you love winter so much?”

Your body relaxes into the couch again. Finally a topic you didn’t mind talking about a bit more. You can’t say too much, some things you just have to ease into, and him knowing about your family is one of them. Maybe one day things could be different.

“People dread winter, but there’s so much beauty in it. We get Christmas, and the world freezes for a moment. It stops and slows down, and everyone with it. We learn to appreciate the more simple things in life. The world just rests, and we do, too. And if you’re lucky to get snow, it’s beautiful. It looks like glitter. Do you not like winter?” You ask, biting at your lip.

Steve hadn’t stopped smiling at you. With every word you said, you just lit up. You had a calmness about you as you spoke about why you loved your favorite season, instead of hating it. You are absolutely stunning. Breathtaking even.

“Steve, stop staring at me like that,” Missy peeks open her eyes, and then settles herself right on top of Sugar Cookie. Neither you or Steve notice anything outside this bubble you had created.

You fear that if you say anything else that the warmth inside the bubble would dissipate. You wanted to keep it forever. What is it about Steve that makes you want him closer to your body? So you scoot a tiny bit closer. Close enough that your knees brush against each other, and you feel his warmth.

“W-what is it that your father does?” He hiccups, still not breaking the gaze he has on you.

“He’s a delivery man of sorts.”

“Amazing,” he whispers out. His finger brushes back some of your baby hairs, and they tickle along the shell of your ear. “The hot chocolate. It’s…it’s amazing. And your life sounds incredible,” he didn’t even know the half of it.

“Thanks. I used to put peppermint in it. The smell makes me sick to my stomach now. What about your family?”

“They passed a long time ago. I don’t really like to talk about it. So explain to me, you love your home and your family, and you came here to hide from your ex?” Saying it out loud sounds silly. You’re sure your parents could help you out. In some ways, your dad was Jack’s boss. But did you want them to? Did you want them to know how Jack really was?

“What did you do?” Steve really wanted to change the subject away from his family. Hopefully one day you hope he will open up to you. Even though you had secrets concerning your family, you’re telling him enough for now.

“I take pictures. My social media did well. I focused on Christmas. Traveled to different places to see how they celebrated, and what they ate. What their traditions were. I love every aspect of Christmas. It’s in my blood. Like…kinda like it’s in my blood,” you correct quickly. Steve had that same dopey look on his face as before, and you aren’t sure what to make of it. But it makes you feel fuzzy, “What?”

“I love to hear you talk about your passions. So if you’re not on your social media, who is seeing your work?”

“No one.”

“Can I see?”

You hadn’t logged in for so long. It was a creative outlet for you. Everyone always admired your parents, never even realizing who you are. What you could do. You enjoyed it. “You don’t have to show me.”

It was time that you stopped being so scared. You could turn off locations on your phone, Jack could find you in other ways. Why did you allow him to control so much of your life? It was time. Especially now that you were no longer alone.

Sighing, you stand to go get your phone, feeling Steve’s eyes watching your back until you return. The lazy Missy didn’t even stir. Her comfort relaxes you even more. She trusts Steve. She trusts no one outside of your family.

Turning your phone on, you click on the app, and hand it over to him. Letting him browse through your photos and reels. Each second his smile gets larger. Spreading wide across his face, “The spirit of Christmas, huh?”

“It’s what my dad always called me. Said that my enthusiasm towards the holiday is what made everything so holly and jolly,” you giggle thinking about how winters held so much warmth when you were home.

“So,” he says, putting down your phone. “What are our holiday traditions going to be this year? You don’t even have a tree up,” why and how is this man so adorable? Saying all the right words. “I’m just saying, it is very close to Christmas. What about these cookies? Triple chocolate oatmeal cookies, we should make some for Santa.”

“They’re my dad’s favorite,” you haven’t smiled like this in so long. Even though a blizzard is happening outside, the cabin is so warm and cozy, and it has nothing to do with the fireplace. You didn’t feel so alone. And then his hand naturally lands on your thigh, and you lean into his touch. It feels like flurries stir around in your belly, but you don’t want to pull away.

There doesn’t seem to be this veil of awkwardness looming over the two of you, it just is, and it is so amazing. “Okay, so it is late. Tomorrow we put up a tree of sorts.”

“I have a fake one under my bed. I don’t like walking in the snow.”

“I could pick us one out, but it’s not the same if we’re not together. I think the fake one will be perfect this time. Maybe next year, you’ll be more comfortable venturing out into the snow?” You nod your head with a smile. You already feel more confident about winter. “So the cookies?”

“I always have the ingredients for those cookies,” you look over to your bedroom. You can’t even believer you’re thinking this, much less ready to say it out loud. Steve is such a large man, and this couch was kind of small. What kind of host would you be? You needed him and basically invited him into your home. He is keeping you safe, and you can’t make him think you don’t want to extend some hospitality, “I feel bad that there’s only one bed.”

“You have a comfy couch,” huffing out a laugh, you look towards the girls, and Missy and Sugar Cookie have their heads lifted up, staring at you. If you were a crazy person, you’d think they were encouraging you to invite him into your bed. But you’re not that crazy.

“I have a big bed, too. I mean, lots of blankets, and there could still be enough space between us, and,” both the cat and the dog lay their heads back down, pretending to sleep. Now you worry that you are going crazy, “You don’t have to stay on the couch.”

“I won’t sleep in your bed if you’re not comfortable.”

“I wouldn't have asked if I wasn’t comfortable. But before bed, maybe we can watch a movie or something, and you decide how you feel? It doesn’t have to feel weird. And if you want to sleep on the couch you can, and if you change your mind in the middle of the night, you can.”

“I think that sounds amazing. Only if Missy will let me sleep in the bed with you,” she doesn’t look when Steve says her name, just stretches out a bit more on Sugar Cookie. “Here’s to new traditions,” Steve says proudly with his mug held high.

“To new traditions, and new friendships,” friendship. Even if you wish it could be so much more. “Wait! A new picture for my grid!” You snap a photo of the two half-drunk mugs. Editing the photo in a way that you can’t see nothing but the wooden coffee table and mugs. Your parents will be shocked to see two.

To new traditions, and new friendships.

And you hope to forgetting your ex.

Jack’s hand shakes with fury, and he cracks his neck, screaming up into the frosty air as he slings his phone onto the ground. “Little bitch!” He screams. You are playing games with him. Friendships. Traditions. Traditions weren’t new. They were what you did every year.

He just can’t believe you would come back to social media with a stupid post like that. You were supposed to spend Christmas with him! Winter with him.

Jingle bells.

Why the hell could he hear jingle bells as his snowflakes float to the ground. There is a warm smell in the air…marshmallows mixed with cinnamon. Oh, he’s angry. Furious. You are spending time with someone that is not him. If you want to spend your time elsewhere, he’ll make sure that they can’t get to you ever again.

Wherever you are, you’ll be trapped all alone. And with your scent becoming more powerful, he is close. And he will find you. And you’ll be all snowed in. Just the way you belonged.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @floral-recs @pandaxnienke

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