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vbecker10 · 3 months

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The Night Nurse (Part 2)

Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 (in progress)

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: You are the newly appointed night nurse for SHIELD and you couldn't be less excited about it. You have been given the side task of finding out who is stealing supplies from the infirmary. Soon after you start, you learn Loki is the one who has been slipping in at night to patch up his wounds and you confront him about why he can't heal as quickly as Thor. He reveals a dangerous secret he is keeping from the team and you worry increasingly for his safety as the two of you become closer over the next few weeks.

Warning: You asked for angst so I shall give you angst lol but also... some mentions of blood, minor injuries needing stitches, Loki generally feeling alone and isolated, arguing between you and Loki, very brief mentions of Loki's torture, Loki being an ass in the beginning, swearing, a pretty major injury towards the end but no one dies... a romantic ending was requested so of course there will be fluff and cuteness and whatnot

"There is something wrong with my magic," he tells you and your heart sinks. "It has been fading since I was taken by the Mind Stone."

"Wait... I thought they severed ties between you and the Mind Stone," you say in disbelief. "That was almost six months ago."

"They released me from the hold it had over me, yes," he says. He shifts uncomfortably on the exam table and you roll the stool you are sitting on closer to him.

You take his hand and he looks at you, "But its still affecting you?"

"I'm unsure how to describe it," he admits and you sit quietly, waiting for him to gather his thoughts. "Sometimes it feels as if the stone took a part of me when they removed it. Sometimes it feels like there may be a small piece of it that they somehow left behind," he pauses noticing the concered look on your face. "The majority of the time, thankfully, I feel completely myself."

You squeeze his hand, "I'm sorry Loki, this must be a horrible thing to deal with alone." He shrugs but you can almost see the weight on his shoulders. "You should to talk to someone. You can't keep all of this to yourself, it's too much."

"Can I talk to you?" he asks hopefully.

You smile, "Of course."

"And you cannot discuss what I tell you?" he checks again.

"Anything we talk about will stay between us," you promise him. "That's what friends do, right?" Wait, are we friends now? you think.

"Thank you," he nods with a smile then adds, "Would it be okay if we didn't talk about this any more tonight though?"

"Sure," you answer, afraid to push him further. You get up and roll the stool back to where it belongs. I'm glad he finally started talking to me, he really is dealing with so much, you think. He's going to get hurt if he keeps doing this, though. He needs to tell Thor or-

"I have told you, I cannot talk to Thor about this," he says suddenly as he gets up from the table.

"I didn't say-" you pause and turn to face him. "Did you seriously read my mind again?"

"Your thoughts are very loud," he replies as if that's an excuse.

"I don't even know what that means, but you can't keep doing that. It makes me feel like I can't trust you," you tell him crossing your arms. "And you should talk to someone, you could-"

"I had hoped to continue talking to you," he cuts you off, "But clearly that was a mistake."

"No, it wasn't a mistake," you follow him out of the room. "Loki, stop," you try to get his attention but he keeps walking away from you. "Listen to me, I'm worried about you getting hurt or worse. You can't keep going out into the field or even training with Thor if we don't find-"

"There is no 'we'!" he turns to face you quickly and you come to an abrupt stop. "It is my magic that is breaking, that is fading away and I need to figure it out on my own."

"Why?" you ask, becoming angry with him for his dramatic attitude shift. "Why can't I even try to help?"

"You are not even a full healer," he says in a harsh tone and you know he is referring to you being a nurse instead of a doctor. "You know nothing of my magic or of me. How could you possibly think you would be able to help?" he asks but he leaves you no space to respond. "And you do not need to concern yourself with my safety any longer."

"Wait, please," you reach for his arm but he vanishes before you are able to touch him.

The next night you sit cross legged on the floor trying to count packets of cotton balls as you take them from one box and put them in another. You pause, suddenly feeling as if someone is in the room with you.

"Y/N," Loki says in a quiet voice and you knock over one of the almost full boxes. You turn quickly to see Loki standing behind you.

You sigh and begin reaching for the packets, "If you need medical attention I will be with you in a minute. If you are here to yell at me again or tell me I'm useless, I'm busy. I don't have the energy to fight with you today."

"What if I am here to apologize?" he asks.

You look up at him and he tries to smile but you shake your head. "You can't keep being a dick and then acting like you're sorry. Maybe that's how it works on Asgard cause you're a prince but you don't get to treat me like crap and expect me to forgive you."

"I know," he says. He sits on the floor next to you, much to your surprise and begins to hand you the packages you can't reach. "I am truly sorry for last night, you did not deserve that. I know I can be a... a dick, was it?," he asks, trying to hold eye contact with you.

You nod and try not to let how upset he looks affect you.

"Hmm, I think that's the first time I've ever been called that," he says as if he is honestly thinking about it.

"To your face maybe," you shrug and he chuckles.

"That is probably accurate," he agrees but you don't respond. He nods, looking down at the floor as he becomes more serious. "Y/N, I shouldn't have lost my temper with you, I promise I will not do it again. I know you are only trying to help me and I greatly appreciate your concern although I am aware that I do not deserve it, especially not now."

You look down as well, fidgeting with the cotton ball packet in your hand. I want to forgive him but how can I be sure this isn't just his pattern? Is he going to continue to snap at me for no reason then apologize after? I want to help him and I'm so worried about him but I can't deal with that, you think.

"I understand if you don't wish to speak with me any longer," he says and you aren't sure if he read your mind or not. "But you were right. I do need someone and to be honest, I think I could benefit greatly from someone who tells me when I'm being a dick." He pauses then smile a bit, "That is such a dull insult don't you think?"

You can't help but laugh, "I wasn't really worried about being creative. It was more about getting my point across."

"It was a point well made," he agrees.

"If it helps," you say and he looks up at you hopefully. "I promise to call you something way harsher if you ever yell me again."

"I swear," he takes your hand, "I will not do that again." You nod at his words, allowing yourself to believe him.

He shakes his head, "It was not you I was upset with yesterday, I am upset with myself. Truthfully, I'm worried that I am not smart enough to figure any of this out and no one here understands magic. I'm afraid my magic will continue to fade or become more unstable over time and then I will be... I don't know who I will be without it."

"You'll still be annoying," you say without thinking and immediately regret it. He sighs and moves to get up from the floor but you reach for his arm, pulling him gently back down. "I'm sorry, my mouth is faster then my brain sometimes," you apologize. "I didn't mean that."

"You did," he says. "And it is okay. You are not the first person to find me difficult to deal with."

"You're not completely awful," you tell him with a smile. "And that's as much of a compliment as you're gonna get today."

"Well thank you," he laughs. "I'll take it."

"Good," you respond then stand up and he stands with you, "Cause I've got a lot of work to do and feeding your ego isn't on the list." You pick up your tablet and quickly log in the count on the cotton ball packets before you can forget how many there are.

"Are you really counting everything in here?" he asks looking into the open supply cabinet.

"Yep," you turn to him and put your hands on your hips. "Because someone was stealing supplies, remember?"

"Ah, right," he nods and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "I am sorry about that."

"It's okay," you shrug. "At least I'll get to read when I'm done... so long as you don't hurt yourself in the meantime."

"I think I can manage that," Loki says. After a moment of watching you slowly gather all of the gauze onto a nearby table he asks, "Would you like some help?"

You look at him shocked, "Really? It's pretty boring."

"It's the least I could do seeing as how this is my fault," he reminds you and you decide to take him up on his offer.

The following night, you set your coffee on your desk and begin your paperwork. About twenty minutes later, you are almost finished and Loki knocks on your office door.

"Hello Y/N," he says with a smile and you can't help but feel excited to see him. "Before you ask, I am pleased to report I am all in one piece."

You laugh, "That's good to hear Loki. So what brings you to my super exciting corner of the Tower?"

"These," he conjures a small bouquet of flowers and your mouth falls open in shock.

"They are beautiful," you tell him as you get up slowly and he walks towards you.

"I hoped you would like them," he smiles nervously.

"I love them," you take them from him, smelling the brightly colored petals.

This is why he asked me what my favorite flowers are? This is insane, the first man who has ever surprised me flowers is a literal prince, you think. A really hot prince. Oh my god stop thinking that he's hot, he's literally right here, he can probably hear you, you look up from the flowers to Loki and he chuckles.

"Did you read my mind again?" you ask him, your smile fading quickly at the invasion of your privacy.

"I'm sorry," his smile drops and he takes a step backwards. "I honestly do not mean to. I've told you, you think loudly."

"You keep saying that but I have no idea what that means," you say, the confusion evident in your tone. "Its not like I'm screaming my thoughts."

"That's not what I mean... I typically need to focus to hear what someone is thinking and even then it is not always coherent or a complete thought. Since the Mind Stone, however, I have had less control over my telekinesis much like my other magic. It comes suddenly, a person's thoughts will simply appear fully formed in my mind, as clearly as you are speaking now," he says. "This happens more often with you than anyone else in the Tower for some reason. Sometimes, I don't even realize you didn't say it out loud until you are upset with me."

"Oh..." you pause, having not expected him to be doing it by accident. "I guess just... try to stop doing it or I'll have to think of some more really annoying songs."

"Please don't," he chuckles. "It took me three days to get the chewing gum song out my head."

You laugh, "That's what you get for being in my brain."

"It is a very strange place," he jokes.

"You have no idea, so stay out," you smile and open one of the storage closets try to find a vase for the flowers.

"I will do my best," he promises as he conjures a crystal vase on your desk. You set the flowers in the vase and add a bit of water then Loki asks, "Would you like help with inventory tonight?"

"I need to finish this paperwork first but that would be really great actually," you answer and pull out your chair again. He sits down across from you with a smile. "Last night was a lot of fun," you tell him. "I was really hoping you were going to come back tonight so we could talk more."

"I can come every night if to would like," he offers.

"I would love that," you answer then look down at your tablet quickly, hoping he didn't see you blush at his charming smile. I hate when he's cute, you think.

"No you don't," Loki says with a smirk.

"It has been ten seconds," you roll your eyes at him.

"Sorry," he mumbles and you shake your head then begin to hum. "Norns, the gum song again, really?"

"I told you this would happen," you laugh then continue to hum until you finish your paperwork.

Where is he? you think as you pace nervously back and forth in the infirmary. Loki had come every night this week, as promised but he is later than usual tonight. What is really concerning you is not so much his timing, it's the fact that he went on a mission today.

You had heard from the nurses who were ending their shift when you arrived that there had been a large explosion at the Hydra base Loki and the others were sent to. You need him to come so he can tell you he is okay and that you are worried for no reason but every second that passes makes you more and more anxious.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

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chronicbeans · 1 year

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Wally and a Puppeteer Reader

I was just kinda thinking to myself... What would happen if he somehow got into contact with one of the puppeteers working on the show? Idk I just like to write what I find interesting. Lol.

TW: Obsessive Behaviors, Mentions of Stalking, Idol Worshipping

🍎 The first time Wally realized what is going on, he's going to panic. Yes, Wally has been aware of the fact that he is a puppet, but he never really understood what that meant. He has always just seen it as a name for what species he is. Kind of like how humans are called humans and that caterpillars are called caterpillars. Just a word that had no implications on his free will.

🍎 However, when he sees the outside of his world... the bright lights setting the stage, the crowd of people all running around and setting things up, he is terrified. These... creatures... look so similar to his neighbor that he has seen every now and again. The only difference is that they are usually smaller and, compared to some of these versions he now sees, have no fluff on their face.

🍎 Then, he sees YOU. He recognizes you. He's seen you in the background, behind one of the smaller creatures he calls his neighbor. You sometimes even come by to check on them. What are you doing here? He doesn't know, but you are an immediate comfort amongst the strange, unfamiliar faces... Even if he doesn't know you.

🍎 Next thing he knows, you are picking him up in your warm arms and carrying him somewhere. He watches as his neighborhood slips away from him, the horrifying realization that his world is just a small little stage in it of itself. His neighbors all being taken by their own strange creatures to their own little areas.

🍎 On your way to wherever you are taking him, someone happens to pop in. Complimenting you on your love for the little puppet in your arms, the excellent care you give him when handling him, and telling you that you are surprisingly good at puppeteering for a newbie on the set. You're going to make an amazing replacement for the last guy.

🍎 Wally cannot believe his ears. What's a puppeteer? This is the first time he's heard of that word. It isn't until the odd fellow asks you to make Wally say his iconic line that he realizes what is happening. You suddenly maneuver him, making a poor impression of his voice as you force him to say "You think I'm the absolute most? You're the most to me, neighbor!"

🍎 Yes... the situation is all coming together in his mind. You must be the one behind everything! All that he does and all that he says is in your hands. All that his friends do and say should be in your hands too, right? It would make sense... If you can control him, then you can control the others!

🍎 Soon enough, you've brought Wally to a room with a little tote box near the corner. You begin checking him over, looking for rips or tears, before wrapping him in a plastic bag. Then, you place him in the box, making sure he isn't squished at all.

🍎 Left alone with his thoughts, Wally thinks about everything that has happened. This all feels too real to be a dream, as much as he sort of wishes it was. In fact, it feels more real than his life before this. He must do something, anything, but he doesn't know why. He just has to do something other than sitting in this bag inside a tote.

🍎 So, after a few hours of trying to move, he finally succeeds. He's gotten himself out of the plastic bag... Then, after a few more minutes, he hears someone return to the room. Lying limp, he watches as you open the box. Your eyes grow wide as you look down at him. You turn your head to look around the room, before crying out "Hey... Dave... Did you mess with Wally?" "Nah, (Y/N)! Why? Is something wrong?" With that, you leave to go talk to this... "Dave".

🍎 Of course, he follows. Very slowly, since he isn't used to walking in this... odd way. His legs feel weak. Like they are filled with stuffing. It is a strange feeling. He is also so incredibly cold. Why is he cold, yet, you are so warm?

🍎 He find you talking to another one of your kind. You and the other strange creatures that make up your species seem so frightened by him moving. Why is it okay for you to make him move, but not for him to move on his own? Why are they assuming someone tampered with him?

🍎 You seem most worried. How... introguing. You seem so kind compared to the rest of these odd creatures! So benevolent in your worries. The others talk about him like some sort of object, but you seem to genuinely have an attachment to him!

🍎 He wants to learn more about your kind - no... YOU in specific. He could care less about the others. You are all that really matters at the moment. If he is wrong about his assumption that you control all in his world, be it that others of your kind control his friends or whatnot, he will deal with that. For now, he can watch from a distance. When you all go, he'll be sure to learn the layout of this new land he is in. When he does, he can find you wherever you are in here. He can find out what you love and hate, what makes you tick, what makes you sad.

🍎 That sounds like a wonderful thought to him... maybe, if he leaves little gifts for you, you'll be sure to make everyday of his good. Happy parties with all of his friends, no bumps or bruises on himself or his friends, no rainy days that makes Home sad and cold... If it takes giving gifts, he'll gladly do so! You are so warm and benevolent, he would do so even if it never became fruitful for making his world perfect.

#welcome home #wally darling x reader #wally darling #welcome home arg

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goldfades · 1 year

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✮ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, quinn hughes

you can hear it in the silence, silence, you you can feel it on the way home, way home, you you can see it with the lights out, lights out you are in love, true love you are in love

one step, not much but it said enough you kiss on sidewalks you fight and you talk one night he wakes strange look on his face pauses, then says you're my best friend and you knew what it was he is in love

you two are dancing in a snow globe, 'round and 'round and he keeps the picture of you in his office downtown and you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars

♡ ─ word count | 3.5k

♡ ─ summary | 3 times that quinn wanted to tell you he loved you, and the 1 time he finally did.

♡ ─ warnings | unedited (when are my works ever lol), mention of comparison between jack/quinn, exhaustion, slight angst??? but mostly tooth-rotting fluff, quinn overthinking, idk maybe there are more but nothing major LMAO

♡ ─ taglist | tbd!! check link in navigation if you are interested

♡ ─ ev's notes | this took WAY too long to write and lowkey not very proud of it, but i wanted to get it out before i start writing my fics for my 100 follower celly. i love quinny so much, he deserves the world and i hope this fic does him justice LMAO. ALSO THIS SONG MAKES ME FEEL SO FREAKING SICK, ITS SO GOOD. also now im noticing a theme on my page, only writing fics inspired by taylor songs, i need to switch it tf up. anyways, enjoy this slightly longer quinn fic & lmk your thoughts in the comments/reblogs. have a great day!

Quinn had never been the type to fawn over anyone ─ especially a girl.

In his 23 years of living, he can't remember a time where he was getting all excited and giddy over the mere thought of anyone. All he could ever remember was just focusing on family, hockey, friends.

Sure, there were flings ─ there were always flings but it would never end in anything more than that. It was just a fling. Sure, sometimes he would want something more but most of the times, the girls thought they were just getting themselves into a one-night stand. Two nights (never in a row) if they were lucky. But that was it.

Even if Quinn wanted a relationship (he doesn't, he would swear), he didn't have time for it. Family, hockey, friends ─ that was it. That's all he wanted.

Of course, that was all thrown out the window when he had met you.

Well, not initially. Quinn wasn't the 'love at first type' kinda guy and neither were you. Your first meeting was nothing out of the ordinary. Just a casual meeting at a friend's gathering, a few exchanged pleasantries, and nothing more.

Yet, something about you stuck with him. It was your sweet smile, maybe, or the way your eyes just looked kind and they would light up when you were asked about your job, or your family. Quinn couldn't pinpoint exactly when it happened, but at some point, he found himself thinking about you when he should have been focused on his next game or practice.

His friends noticed the change in him. His younger brothers had noticed the small change and would tease him. "Hey, Q, what's up with you? You've been awfully distracted lately," Quinn could just imagine the stupid grin etched on Jack's face as he spoke those words.

Quinn, normally quick with a witty retort, found himself at a loss for words. He knew he was in new territory; he had never, ever in his life been overthinking about a girl. For the first time, hockey or family or friends weren't the only thing on his mind.

As days turned into weeks, Quinn's feelings grew stronger. He'd catch himself daydreaming about you during team meetings or staring at his phone, waiting for your texts back. He would go look at your instagram multiple times a day, waiting for a new post to go up just so he could see that pretty smile of yours but somehow, he was never satisfied with just that. For once in his whole life, he had wanted to actually get to know a girl based on one meeting and a couple of texts. It was maddening, this feeling of being drawn towards someone in a way he had never experienced before.

He also couldn't ask any of his buddies for advice because all he'd get was teasing so he had to keep it to himself, which somehow made this entire situation so much worse.

Then finally, there was that one night. You were both at another gathering, the same friends, the same laughter, but this time something shifted. You shared a small inside joke, a quick glance, and Quinn felt his heart race in a way that no slapshot or overtime goal had ever made it race before. He felt a surge of contradictory emotions during that one-second moment, a mix of anxiety and excitement that overwhelmed him. It was a sensation so intense that he wanted to vomit, yet strangely, it was different from the kind of feelings he had experienced before ─ it was not because of hockey, it was a girl. No, you weren't just a girl to him anymore, he realized. You were much more than that to him now.

As he drove home that night, he couldn't deny it anymore. He was falling for you, and it terrified him. Love was a complicated thing, one he had always sworn to avoid, but now he was caught in it's tight grasp all because of you.

The following days were a whirlwind of emotions. Quinn, who had always been the composed defenseman on the ice, found himself stumbling over words and second-guessing every move he made when it came to you. He couldn't concentrate during practice, and his teammates couldn't understand what had gotten into him and if he was being honest, neither did he.

But one thing was clear - Quinn Hughes was in love, and he didn't know how to handle it. He realized that his carefully constructed world of family, hockey, and friends had been upended by the presence of one person ─ you.

And so, this journey begins - three times Quinn wanted to tell you he loved you, and the one time he finally did.

──

ONE

──

After what seemed like the longest practice of his entire life, Quinn trudged back to his apartment, exhaustion weighing down every step. The weight of expectations from his teammates and fans pressed on his shoulders. Today wasn't his day; his passes were off, shots missed the mark, and he stumbled more than once during drills. Even coach had given him some constructive criticism, which usually wouldn't have bothered him, but today it felt like salt in the wound.

As he entered his home, he was ready to collapse onto the couch and shut out the world. As he collapsed on his soft couch, he groaned out in pain, the soreness in his muscles somehow hurt more than usual. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, until he heard the familiar buzzing of his phone in the pocket of his shorts. He cursed under his breath and pulled it out but all the anger seemed to slowly dissipate as he saw your name and contact picture spayed out on the screen.

Then he remembered. Tonight was supposed to be date night for the both of you. He cursed again before answering the phone, sitting upright on the couch.

"Hey," he answered breathlessly, the exhaustion clear in his voice.

"Hey, Quinn I'm outside─you okay?" You say through the phone but before he could answer, you continued. "Shit, sorry Quinn is this a bad time? I know you just had practice and probably tired, I should've texted but you know, I was so excited─"

"No, no, no. Come up, I'm fine I'm not tired." He was lying and you both knew it, but you sighed through the speaker. "Please, come up. I want you here."

"Okay... promise?"

"Promise, Y/N." He said your name so softly, it made your heart flutter and you couldn't help but smile.

"Okay. I'll be up in two secs," You said. "Bye."

The phone call ended and Quinn exhaled. He was tired, sure ─ but he was excited to see you. Even the sound of your voice made him relax so it wasn't even that much of hassle having a date night. If anything, he was sure, you'd make him feel better.

He quickly changed his clothes and he heard the doorbell ring. Quinn opened the door with a tired smile ─ it slowly spread as he saw your pretty smile. He felt his heart speed up as you slowly examined him, and that smile slowly dropped.

"Quinn..." You whispered, a small frown on your face. His disheveled appearance made you slightly sad.

You both made eye contact for a few seconds before you sighed and walked in, your arms wide open. You embraced him warmly, putting your arms around his shoulders and squeezed him softly.

As your arms enveloped him in a warm, comforting embrace, Quinn felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. Your presence had a way of soothing his mind. The subtle scent of your floral shampoo, the softness of your warm touch, it all wrapped around him pleasantly.

He closed his eyes, letting himself bask in the tenderness of the moment. Your fingers traced gentle circles on his back, and it was as if you were silently reassuring him that it was okay to have bad days because you'd be there to catch him.

You pulled away, your eyes met again, and he saw genuine concern in your gaze. That alone was enough to make his heart skip multiple beats. Quinn couldn't quite put it into words, being around you was like like returning to the warm embrace of home.

He wanted to utter those three special words as he met your gaze, your kind eyes but the words slowly died on his tongue as you continued talking, taking his hand in yours.

"Let's go eat some ice cream and watch Top Gun." You smiled, knowingly.

He laughed softly and nodded, squeezing your hand. "Sounds like a plan."

──

TWO

──

The moon cast a soft glow through the white curtains as you and Quinn sat together in his dimly lit living room in comfortable silence. The day had been long, filled with its usual chaos and pressures, but now, the world was still. The only sounds were the faint hum of the city outside and the occasional car passing by.

With a sigh, Quinn leaned back into the couch, his exhaustion evident in expression. You watched him closely, sensing the weight of the day on his shoulders. Your relationship had grown stronger over the span of a couple months and you had become his confidante, the one he turned to when he needed to escape from the demands of the team and fans.

Practice had been harder than usual and somehow, on top of all of that, the media had initiated a new trend of drawing comparisons between him and Jack, which made his mood worse.

You knew that; watching Quinn get slowly demotivated by the comments made by those nobodies, it hurt your heart. Breaking the silence, you softly asked, "Quinn, how are you really holding up?"

He looked at you, his gaze wavering at your soft eyes. There was something about the way you looked at him, a warmth and understanding that he had rarely found in anyone else. It was as if you could see right through him, past the tough exterior he often wore.

For a moment, he hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. He almost gave you the media-trained answer but then, he realized that with you. "Not sure, if I'm being honest."

"That's fine, Quinn." You answered softly, "you don't have to know. But what I do what you to know is that you're not Jack. You're not Luke, or Trevor, or anyone else. You're you and that's enough."

That simple answer made him halt all his thoughts. He felt his shoulders slowly drop, letting out a loud exhale. He felt a sense of relief wash over him, as if a heavy burden had been lifted.

With empathy in your eyes, you couldn't help but feel the toll it was taking on him. The Quinn you saw now, weary and vulnerable, was a side he rarely showed to anyone.

Quinn's voice wavered as he spoke about the comments that everyone had been making on the media. "It's just... they don't understand, Y/N. They don't see the hours of practice, the sacrifices, the love I have for this game. All they see is Jack's brother, or one of the Hughes brothers."

You reached out and gently placed a hand on his arm, comfortingly. "Quinn, I see you. I see the hard work, the dedication, and the love you have for hockey. And I believe in you. You might be just Jack's brother or just another Hughes to them, but that doesn't matter to me. I see Quinn and you know what, that's enough. And if it isn't enough for them, then fuck them."

His eyes met yours, and there was a vulnerability in that eyes that spoke volumes. In that moment, Quinn realized that he was sharing not just his struggles, but his true self with you. It was a level of trust and intimacy he hadn't experienced with any girl before.

The silence that followed was a comforting one, filled with unspoken understanding. It was as if you were his anchor in the storm, a source of encouragement and warmth. Quinn couldn't help but think that he was lucky to have you by his side, someone who saw him for who he truly was, beyond just hockey player or another Hughes brother, beyond the expectations.

As he held your kind gaze, Quinn couldn't help but think that he wanted to say something more, something that would convey the true depth of his feelings. But for now, he settled for a heartfelt confession: "You're my best friend."

──

THREE

──

The frenetic buzz of the post-game celebrations following a thrilling overtime victory against the Toronto Maple Leafs, Quinn found himself into another arena, one of bright lights and microphones. His heart still raced from the intensity of the game, but now, he had to face the media. The sweat dripped from his forehead, his heart was still beating from the intensity of the adrenaline in his system.

The victory had been hard-fought, Quinn playing a pivotal role in securing it. The puck on his stick, he executed great moves, the slide of the ice beneath his skates, the thud of the puck hitting the net, the eruption of cheers all merging into a thrilling crescendo of sensations made his head buzz with excitement.

The reporters, with cameras flashing and microphones thrust forward, surrounded him like a hungry vultures. They fired questions, one after another, probing for insights into the game-changing play that had secured the win for the Vancouver Canucks.

"Quinn, that last-minute save in overtime was incredible! Can you walk us through what was going on in your mind?"

"Quinn, there's been a lot of buzz with your brother, Jack Hughes. How does it feel to outshine him tonight?"

"You've been compared to some of the greats tonight. How do you handle the pressure of those comparisons?"

"Quinn, your family's here tonight, right? How does their support affect your game?"

"Quinn, fans are calling this one of the best games of your career. Do you think this win is the turning point for the Canucks this season?"

The questions all blurred in his head, the bright lights straining his eyes. Quinn, used to these post-game interviews, felt a distinct unease tonight even after such a big win. The questions were sharp and the scrutiny was intense. In the midst of this media frenzy, he sought solace in the one thing that always brought him strength: you.

He remembers seeing you in the stands before the game and his mind kept replaying those few seconds where you shared a big grin as you both made eye contact.

Amidst the crowd of reporters, he spotted you, your presence radiating pride and warmth. Your eyes locked onto his, and for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you in the arena. You gave him a big thumbs up with a big grin, knowing how anxiety inducing those post-game interviews could be. Quinn longed to speak the words that danced at the tip of his tongue but he knew he had to navigate this sea of questions first.

──

This week had to be the longest of Quinn's life. The 3 hour, 5 am pre-season practices had been so tiring, he felt the life get sucked out of him after every exhausting practice. There was one thing he had been looking forward to and that was your date night. Even though he knew that he would have do this week over again practically the next week, he was okay with it knowing that he would be able to spend some time with you over the weekends.

As Friday night finally arrived, Quinn couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and excitement. The thought of spending time with you, of being himself without the pressures of anyone else, filled him with a sense of comfort.

He had suggested a new restaurant downtown, a place neither of you had been before. As you both entered the restaurant, the soft piano ambience and the chatter created the perfect atmosphere. Quinn couldn't help but steal a few glances at you, admiring your beauty and the easy way you fit into his world.

You had worn your hair back in a low bun, showing off your sweet collarbone, a pretty necklace that Quinn had bought for you on a trip hanging off it. It was a silver color and the jewel a beautiful deep blue color that brought out your angelic eyes. Quinn couldn't help but stare and you felt your face burn with heat as you caught his loving gaze.

"What, is there something on my face?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "No, no. You just look beautiful, like always. I like that necklace, wonder who bought it for you."

You giggled in response, feeling slightly giddy. You couldn't even lie, Quinn had you in a trance. You were head over heels. "Yeah, I wonder who."

The rest of the night was spent like this ─ sweet and teasing, it all felt right. Everything just felt right, it was if the last week hadn't happened. Every problem just slowly faded every time either of you spent time together, no matter how big or small it was.

After dinner, you decided to take a walk out in town. The summer air was unusually cool, the lights of the city perfectly setting the atmosphere for the night.

Quinn held your hand, your softer and smaller hand fitting his like a glove. You both walked through the town, talking and laughing like you two were the only people in the world.

As you both passed a bar, your ears filled with the familiar tune of your favorite song. You immediately stopped and looked at Quinn knowingly. "Oh my gosh, I can't believe it's playing!"

Quinn let out a soft chuckle, nodding. "Wanna go in?"

You ignored his question and started lip syncing the lyrics to him, playfully. He started laughing even louder, letting his head fall back. You had started laughing, too ─ then, you took his hand in yours and started dancing.

If it this was anyone else, Quinn would've been slightly embarrassed but as he saw your eyes sparkling and your wide small, he truly couldn't feel anything but love. He had a smile on his face as he grabbed you and pulled you closer, dancing happily with you.

As the song ended, another started playing. 'You are in love' by Taylor Swift had started playing and Quinn almost let out a laugh at the coincidence. You looked back at him, a deep blush gracing on your face. He took your hand again and pulled you closer, and you put you put arms around his broad shoulders.

You both looked into each other's eyes and he took account of how beautiful you looked in this moment ─ you always looked beautiful, no matter when or where or to who, it was just a fact. But you looked more than just physically beautiful, everything about you was perfect, your flaws, your smile, just everything.

And that was when Quinn really knew, in his bones that you were the one for him.

"What?" You whispered, as you saw Quinn's expression changed slowly. He loved that too ─ how empathetic you were, how in sync you both were. You always knew what he was feeling.

You asked, but you knew what the answer was.

"I think ─ no..." His words died on his tongue as your expression changed too. "I know it. I love you."

It didn't feel like a big confession. It didn't feel how everyone described it to be, it just felt like a normal statement. You both had thought it before, multiple times ─ so saying it out loud wasn't a big confession to either of you.

He loved that, he was so used to everything being so big and grand, he wanted it simple. He loved that and he loved you.

You could see it in his eyes, too. His eyes were softened as he gazed at you, like he always looked at you. But this time, you acknowledged it more. He loved you. Quinn loved you. As you gazed into his brown eyes, your heart swelled with a deep sense of connection. You had known, just like he did, that this feeling existed between you. It wasn't born out of big gestures or dramatic confessions; instead, it had quietly grown, nourished by the everyday moments you shared.

As the song ended softly, you let out a breath you didn't know you were even holding. "Yeah. I know I love you, too."

His smile got impossibly bigger and then, he leaned in and gave you the biggest of kisses ─ the dramatic ones, too. He had your face in his hand, the other one holding on your waist and you pulled him closer with your hands.

You felt his mouth smirk as you both sloppily made out. You laughed into the kiss but neither of you pulled away. Neither of you liked PDA but this time, it felt right.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#nhl imagine #nhl #nhl fic #jack hughes #nhl oneshot #hockey #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x oc #vancouver canucks #nhl angst #nhl fanfiction #hughes brothers #hughes family #jack hughes blurb

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theguyinthemathexamples · 3 months

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Silly idea me and my friend had with sagau, sahsrau and possibly sawuwaau(??)

But like, what if, due to your consciousness essentially merging/being connected to the MC more, sometimes stuff gets a lil funky and you start seeing things you shouldn't

Like yk, ghosts 😇🙏

I recommend strapping in because these are gonna be three flash fictions into one + having lots of talking lol

(more utc‼️)

For example, in a fic style:

"Hey, are you gonna eat your food, Traveler?" Paimon asked, looking worriedly at the distracted visage of her friend. "Something on your mind? You can always tell Paimon what's on your mind!"

They shook their head, eyes looking at the person who stared at them and their companion. Eyes unblinking, appearance overall disheveled and aged.

"That guy's been staring at us the whole time we've been eating," they replied, eyes switching over to Paimon in a barely contained distressed fashion. "It's almost worrying me."

"What guy?"

Paimon silently asked again, "What?" when her friend looked at her so incredulously.

"You don't see him?" they asked again, now worried beyond belief. The last time Paimon saw them like this was when they fought Arlecchino.

"Traveler, I think that's a ghost we're both seeing," the voice inside his mind pointed out, trying to calm their mental state. Right, they forgot the Creator was a part of their mind now.

And as the voice just predicted, one blink and that figure was gone, the Traveler seeing its shadow scurry into a corner of the restaurant.

The door chime rang out and in a cyan and a blue haired boy entered the restaurant, another blue haired girl following right after. Right, Chongyun, Xingqiu and Xiangling.

The ghost must've scurried off when it sensed Chongyun nearby. Well, at least that put an end to their distress.

——————

LIKE THE AMOUNT OF DISTRESS WHEN THE MCS SEE A GHOST FOR THE FIRST TIME

it'd be so chaotic, especially hsr's mcs bc good god they're already so adhd coded

You could think of them going through it like:

"Woah woah, what's got you all terrified, Trailblazer?" March 7th asked, a worried Dan Heng embracing them when they accidentally bumped into him trying to run away from something.

The Astral Express were quickly informed by them personally that they've been seeing ghosts and all sorts of spiritual apparitions that don't normally appear physically like heliobi, but seemingly living people that were doing normal things or otherwise.

It all started around the time they also figured out that the Creation's consciousness had somehow taken an interest in the Trailblazer, latching onto their body and making the Stellaron inside them a bit restless, unstable.

"It's... I saw Cocolia at the Administrative District," they said, panting from exhaustion. The story sounded so unreal, with how impossible it sounded, but with how broad the Creation works nothing was truly impossible.

"She was looking at Bronya shopping and talking to the people, always un-staring." March patted their back in assurance, joining Dan Heng in sitting them down onto the red couches in the Parlour Car.

"When I came closer to see if she was real, she whipped her head around so fast with the scariest look on her face!—"

"It's okay, Caelus Stelle Trailblazer, she can't reach you here," the choir of voices erupted in their mind, the chirping of birds and clinking machinery in their tone momentarily calming them down by a substantial amount.

"Well, it's a good thing ghosts can't get into the Express because that means she can't hurt you here!" March exclaimed, Dan Heng having to resist rolling his eyes at the obvious but letting her reassure them nonetheless. Dumb, dumber and dumbest— the trio wouldn't be complete with one of them missing.

Then, the cabin's speakers erupted in an all too familiar voice. "Attention, all Astral Express crew members! Dinner is ready, so please hurry over to the kitchen cabin and join me and Welt to eat here!" The Astral Express's Conductor excitedly exclaimed over the mic, never failing to make the three smile from their infectious enthusiasm.

"Well, we were supposed to find you and Himeko for dinner but it looks like Pom Pom beat us to it again," March said, jumping up from her seat with her hands on her hips.

"Last one to reach the kitchen cabin is a rotten egg!"

"Hey, no fair, you got a head start!"

Dan Heng sighed at the two's shenanigans yet again, slowly getting up from his own seat as the two raced over to the cabin. That Aeon truly knew how to control and manipulate the emotions of a being to THEIR liking, and he even felt it wash over him earlier.

He'll need to observe it more before adding another entry into THEIR dedicated part of the Archives.

———————

This one was a little confusing to make into a scenario but it's what my eepy mind came up with on the spot :p

Now for our dearest Rover, it's a bit difficult to make it make sense, yk? Mostly because Tacet Discords shapeshifting into people is canon (if people actually paid attention to the lore), much less actually fitting the lore of this seemingly interplanetary eldritch being into the world of Wuthering Waves in the first place lmao

Maybe we could be the galaxy eye we see in the first cutscene, as well as the one when Abby (the lil echo that appeared after the Dreamless fight) and Rover being together

But this is all me yapping about a whole other subject— related, but not the one we're diving into right now

Getting back into the subject though, this is how i think it'd go:

It was another bright, sunny day at Panhua's Restaurant, the scent of delicious food wafting through the air as always. Rover, Yangyang, Chixia and Jiyan all sat around a table, with Abby floating around all plump and full.

"Say, Rover, didn't you say you had something to say for us today?" Chixia inquired, stacking and overall making the empty dishes look cleaner and neater.

"Yeah, just a strange sighting I saw near Desorock Highlands," they replied, putting a deft hand on their chin as if to think back on the memory.

"Me, Jiyan and The Black Sun were conversing like usual when we came across groups of people near the Tacet Field where the Thundering Memphis usually dwelled," Rover recounted, unconsciously pulling the leash that was attached to Abby's collar closer. "Some were laughing with eachother, acting as if most groups weren't crying out in agony."

"Aren't those just Tacet Discords that have absorbed lots of human frequencies?"

"No, there was something more... alive to them, besides the fact that the General himself couldn't see them," they replied to Yangyang, letting the leash go as Abby went back in their Tacet Mark with one last burp.

"Even when I went closer to them, they didn't attack me, more or less ignoring me entirely."

"Wait, who's this 'The Black Sun' you're talking about Rover? Is there another echo inside of you?" Chixia jumped up to ask, startling both Jiyan and Rover.

"The Black Sun is what you may have seen when you first found Rover and ventured back to Jinzhou, just as I did so as well," the General explained, waving over to Rover's direction in an attempt to explain this name to both ladies. Yangyang nodded and Chixia let out an "Oh," in understanding.

"I will admit, seeing them not react to us at all looked a lil' unnerving," the voice inside their mind stated in a breathy voice, unclear like a cloud of smoke.

Though the voice had no body and claimed that they weren't an echo like Abby, only really being able to be heard clearly when they're dreaming, it often provided support whenever it could— unlike a certain someone.

"I've already sent the proper human resources over to investigate the matter, the only thing left to do is to wait for results," Jiyan said, already standing up when he saw the bill arriving.

The three simply nodded in thanks to the General, knowing full well he'd insist on it till his last breath. And when he came back to the table the subject had already changed into another, more or less silly one.

Well, at least everyone was enjoying themselves.

———————

I didn't have much for the last part like i said, and it's more filled with dialogue, but it's better than nothing

Please do tell me if I missed anything or said something totally wrong!!

Now, is this an excuse to push my sahsrau fic more? ... mmmmaayyybbeee 😇

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sad-scarred-sassy · 1 month

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tamlin “trapped” feyre after all negotiations broke down with the certainty of knowing feyre would endanger herself and others temporarily

from the wu this fandom talks about it you’d think he’s mother gothel but like. it was only until he came back. it wasn’t like he had her isolated, restricting access to who got to see her. he offered to invite her sisters - she was the one who said no! i really don’t see how it’s comparable to feyre + the ic making nesta stay on a remote island for what it’s worth with two near strangers who she has little to no positive associations with if they can’t be considered the cause of all her trauma in the first place (in that they are fae etc)

whereas nesta’s sentence (bc let’s face it she was sent to azkaban as punishment with a fun caveat like “you’re free if you can cross the sea! and manage to maintain a sense of identity while around guards who remind you how terrible you are of course!”) is indefinite and it’s pretty obvious from everything that comes after that it’s just something she’s expected to make the best of as opposed to something that can get better with time.

and cassian being her jailer whose amicability she has to earn by performing rigorous physical activity she had no interest in even if she grew to love it.. i wonder if she’s had that experience before

sorry, i’m not disagreeing with you, i saw your post + i just die a little inside every time someone’s like “ew tampon” “wow i wish i had a cassian” like no. they’re not the same, you (not you, ily) just have the attention span of a gold fish on catnip

You know I restrained myself from posting more on this because I’m such a hater sometimes lol, gotta focus on more positive things sometimes but... I’ll get this out of my chest.

I wanna preface by saying I do not care if people like Cassian/Nessian, truly. I even like fanon Cassian and fanon Nessian. I also have seen very little people that like Cassian bashing Tamlin (probably bc of my filters and just the type of blogs I follow bc I do love them all) BUT☝🏼 what I do see is a lot of “Disclaimer: we know Tamlin is an abuser” on Tamlin neutral posts (when no other character gets that treatment) or using Tamlin as a cautionary tale of how he treated Feyre and then praise the other “mates” for being “the right ones” and treating them correctly or something, which does annoy me a bit, but alas.

In my opinion yes, you are right, what Cassian and the Inner Circle did to Nesta is a million times worse than what Tamlin did to Feyre, but nobody, nobody considers Cassian’s actions in Silver Flames as bad as they actually are. Nobody considers him an abuser like Abusive Tamlin™️. When talking about what Nesta has endured in SF people put all the blame on Rhys and Feyre (which yes of course) but they forget Cassian was also there, willingly.

I’ve seen people use the argument that both Nesta and Cassian treated each other poorly in their relationship, but I have to ask… what did Nesta do to him that’s worse than what he did… intentionally. She was mean to him and called him bastard like four times? And only when he trespassed her boundaries. Somehow this is comparable to him being her jailer, taking her to train in the middle of Illyria, being a dick when he knew she was struggling, telling her everyone hates her and he cannot understand why her sisters love her, controlling her food intake as if she’s a gym bro or something when she clearly had an eating disorder, not telling her that Feyre was not mad at her and letting her BREAK while making her carry a huge backpack and forcing her on a hike not talking to her for days, to the point she fainted and fell on her face near a cliff?? (this because she made Rhys mad). Anyway the list goes on.

And you know what I don’t care if people like this guy after all this, but it is just funny how somehow Neris shippers are the “morally dubious” ones lol (and don’t get me started on Tamlin stans aka the devil worshippers), because Nesta said she “deserved Eris” (as a punishment), babygirl your WHOLE relationship with Cassian has been a punishment, for what sins you ask? Being mean (as she should) and spending the High Lord’s coin.

And what makes it worse is that the narrative will always favor the Inner circle, Cassian will never pay for what he’s done the way Tamlin has (and still is) he will never even apologize because he was “holding out his hand” or whatever bs that was. (Honestly if I get proven wrong and he does pay and apologize then I may give him a chance, but I highly doubt it)

I won’t even pretend that I think Neris will be canon as much as I wish it was, even if I know that if SJM wrote it, it still would have had its problems but at least Nesta wouldn’t have ended up with the people who treated her like a criminal just because she wouldn’t kiss their ass. And on top of all, with a mate that doesn’t even have the balls to stand up for her. Holy shit.

Okay I got it all out of my chest I think, I’ll try not to hate so much but this shit bro makes me seethe. I’ll go touch some grass.

#cassian they can never make me like you #anti cassian #anti inner circle #anti nessian #from a former nessian girl #pro nesta archeron #pro tamlin

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fangirleaconmigo · 6 months

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I've been going through some of your posts about Geralt and Dandelion's friendship in the books recently because... well I'm back in my book/game phase I guess and I really wanted to know if there are any other Dandelion friendships you like from the books and why? Like him and Zoltan or with the other Hansa etc? [Personally I'm a big fan of what little we see of him with Regis and it always makes me weepy that he wrote a biography about him in the games and fondly remarks abt him smelling like herbs all the time]

Awww yayy thanks for spending some time on the ol blog. I absolutely love this question. I don't get to talk enough about Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, and his relationship with Dandelion (for the newbies, that is Jaskier's name in the books) is so lovely.

Dandelion and Friendships

For those who are just joining us, Tea is talking about my series about Geralt and Dandelion's friendship in the books.

I have also written posts about Dandelion's friendships with Ciri and Zoltan:

Dandelion and Ciri

Dandelion and Zoltan

And for this post, I'll focus on Regis and Dandelion's friendship, which I absolutely love.

Dandelion and Regis Friendship (books)

What really strikes me about Regis and Dandelion, is just how patient and kind Regis is with Dandelion. Sometimes it is almost like he’s dealing with a child he cares about. Considering Regis’s age (over four centuries old), Dandelion (approx in his thirties when they meet) IS a child.

On top of that, Dandy’s personality is rife with traits often associated with kids:

insatiable curiosity to the point where he endangers his own life, (when they go into the forest or sea, Geralt has to essentially, follow right behind him like you would a toddler),

hyper enthusiasm about every discovery he makes, (he whispers in awe when he sees mandrake for the first time, that’s just how he reacts to everything new)

his inability to censor himself or stop asking questions even when everyone else wants him to shut up (he will ask until he understands, no matter the social cues happening)

the way he will act incredibly transparent and awkward while thinking he is being subtle and smooth

Perhaps that is why Regis seems to be so indulgent of him. And somehow their personalities just fit naturally.

Regis’s most annoying trait is to lecture people at length like a professor and cut people off who are asking a question, since he is too eager to answer it. The vampire loves to hold forth on a topic.

Dandelion’s annoying trait (one of many, bless, we know he can't keep it in his pants either) is to ask questions incessantly. In that way, they really kind of fit together.

Geralt loses patience when Dandelion is being socially inappropriate by asking too many questions. Geralt really values discretion and manners.

Regis is more willing to spend time explaining things and to open up.

Early in the hansa's time together, (before he manages to surprise folks several times over) Dandelion is often seen as the one who is in way over his head. Everyone else is a warrior or a soldier. Dandelion is the soft one. To add to the indignity, Geralt is angry at him during Baptism of Fire because Dandelion keeps forcing him to make friends (well, to ask for help)

Yet Regis, the new guy, is the one who always makes sure Dandelion isn't embarrassed or ashamed.

Here’s a few examples.

When Dandelion is given a bloody head wound by an arrow, the poet is howling and shrieking. He thinks he's dead already. He is not a stoic man. It is played comedically, but Geralt is also legitimately terrified that he will lose Dandelion. That bit is not played comedically.

But given the circumstances, the rest of them could be forgiven for rolling their eyes at the poet's dramatics.

But Regis (who is treating his wounds as the resident barber surgeon) does not.

Regis speaks to him so soothingly, and kindly. (I am omitting the Geralt dramz because I will get off topic lol)

Dandelion groaned and took a sharp intake of breath....

“I’ll put in a few stitches,” Regis said...”Be brave, Dandelion.”

Dandelion was brave.

“Almost done here,” Regis said, setting about bandaging the victim’s head. “Don’t you worry, Dandelion, you’ll be right as rain. The wound’s just right for a poet, Dandelion. You’ll look like a war hero, with a proud bandage around you head, and the hearts of the maidens looking at you will melt like wax. Yes, a truly poetic wound....”

And when it is revealed that Regis is a vampire, and Dandelion is afraid of him, Regis is incredibly patient and kind about the whole thing. He does not take offense. Geralt does! (Ironic, considering Geralt ran Regis off, but Geralt, bless, is dealing with a clusterfuck of feelings about the vampire and everything else going on in his life.)

But yes, after Geralt tells Dandelion about Regis, Dandelion is scared, and wants to seek reassurance. But the poet (unbeknownst to him it seems) is awkward and bad at it. He tries to bring up the issue with the subtlety of a sledge hammer.

Dandelion...deciding to clear up the uncertainty..began as soon as they set off. With his usual tact.

(I like that. His usual tact. Meaning, zero tact lmaoooooo.)

“Milva,” he suddenly called as they were riding, sneaking a glance at the vampire as they were riding, sneaking a glance at the vampire. “...I fancy eating a hunk of real meat for a change! How about you, Regis?”

Yeah. Real subtle Dandelion.

“I beg your pardon?’ the vampire said, lifting his head from the horse’s neck.

“Meat!” the poet repeated emphatically. “...fancy some fresh meat?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And blood. Would you like some fresh blood?”

“Blood?” Regis asked, swallowing. “No. I’ll decline the blood. But if you have a taste for some, feel free.”

Geralt, Milva and Cahir observed an awkward, sepulchral silence.

I love that. Awkward sepulchral silence. Dandelion causes a lot of those. But Regis does not dismiss him or laugh. He reassures him.

“I know what this is about, Dandelion,” Regis said slowly, “And let me reassure you. I’m a vampire, but I don’t drink blood.”

The silence became as heavy as lead. But Dandelion wouldn’t have been Dandelion if he had remained silent.

But Dandelion wouldn’t have been Dandelion if he had remained silent. (sorry I am laughing every other line at this part)

“You must have misunderstood me,” he said, seemingly lightheartedly. “I didn’t mean-”

“I don’t drink blood,” Regis interrupted. “...I gave it up.”

Dandelion doesn’t know what that means and keeps pestering Regis to explain. Geralt is embarrassed and tells Dandy to shut up.

However, Regis opens up around the camp fire that night. He tells his life story, and says he hasn’t drank blood in fifty years. Dandelion is incredulous.

“Not at all?” Dandelion said, and stuttered. But his curiosity got the best of him. “Not at all? Never? But...?”

Geralt is embarrassed again and shuts him down again. Regis, by contrast, is patient and defends Dandelion.

“I beg your pardon,” the poet grunted.

“Don’t apologize,” the vampire said placatingly, “And Geralt, don’t chasten him. I understand his curiosity.”

Baptism of Fire 291-295

That's right. Don't chasten him Geralt.

Regis and Dandelion also just have a wonderful dynamic of picking on each other.

Dandelion teases Regis about his long ass name.

And Regis has a great time teasing Dandelion lovingly. In one scene, Geralt and Regis team up to pick on Dandelion and the secretive way he treats his writing. Dandelion has stolen some paper and pencil from a Lyrian military convoy and is writing whenever they make camp, but gets testy whenever anyone gets near him or looks at his manuscript.

Geralt is good-naturedly giving Dandelion a hard time and Regis jumps in with such adorable relish. (Also, in this scene, we find out that Regis actually named Dandelion's memoirs)

"Indeed," the witcher joined in...."You've become devilishly touchy, Dandelion. One cannot fail to notice that it is somehow connected to the paper which you have recently begun to deface with a bit of lead while we camp." “It’s true,” Regis agreed, “our minstrel has become touchy, not to say secretive, discreet, and loving of solitude recently. Oh no, having witnesses when performing his natural needs doesn't bother him at all...His shameful secrecy and oversensitivity to being watched extends solely to his scribbled notes. Is, perhaps, a poem being written in our presence? A rhapsody? And epic? A romance? A canzone?”

He's like, you don't care who sees you piss and shit, but oh this you care about. lol. Tell us about the poem. But Geralt objects.

“No,” Geralt retorted...”I know him. It can’t be verse, because he’s not cursing, mumbling, or counting the syllables on his fingers. He’s writing in silence, so it must be prose.”

“Prose!” The vampire flashed his pointed fangs - which he really tried not to do. “A novel perhaps? Or an essay? A morality play? Dammit, Dandelion! Don’t torture us so! Reveal what you are writing?”

Dandelion says it is a memoir called Fifty Years of Poetry. Regis says that A Half Century of Poetry sounds better.

“Thanks, Regis, Something constructive at last.”

P 88 -90 The Tower of the Swallow

I admit I'm such a sucker (hehe no pun intended) for whenever Regis's fangs are mentioned, whether he is hiding them, baring them, or unselfconsciously showing them during a warm, silly moment with his friends. (Sobs, I love this vampire, seriously I need an intervention)

Regis also comforts Dandelion openly when the poet is doubting his courage or fitness for a task.

Later in the book, Geralt volunteers for a bloody job/violence for hire that terrifies Dandelion, so the poet protests the plan. Geralt insists he’ll do it alone.

But no! He has a hansa now! He won't be alone! Angoulême volunteers to go. Cahir says he’s coming with as well. Then Milva insists she is coming.

Dandelion freezes.

It would be like the LOTR ‘and my bow and my axe’ yadda yadda scene, but if there was one person left and when it got to them, everyone turned around and looked and they are just standing there frozen like....motherfuck this is scary idk idk wtf do I do. And the way this next paragraph is written, it pleases me.

Dandelion...was evidently struggling with his thoughts. And the thoughts were winning.

lmaooo

And Regis jumps in "kindly." He shows solidarity with Dandelion, and takes the heat by calling himself a coward.

“Stop meditating, poet,” Regis said kindly. For there’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re even less cut out to participate in a bloody swordfight than I am. We weren’t taught to carve up our neighbors with a blade. Furthermore...furthermore..,” he raised shining eyes towards Geralt and Milva, “I’m...a coward,” he confessed curtly.

They keep arguing amongst themselves because Geralt believes they have been spied on. And Regis is just...always soft with Dandelion. When Dandelion starts guessing about who is spying on them, and is beginning to ramble incorrectly,

“You’re mistaken, Dandelion,” Regis softly interjected.

The Tower of the Swallow p 182

It's Regis's gentleness that just fuckn kills me. That's always the character that's gonna get me right between the ribs with a shank. (Metaphorically, Regis is too gentle for that)the one that lives in a horror filled, violent, cruel world and is still just kind, even to the loud, awkward, soft, obnoxious poet who is in over his head and is afraid you'll bite him in his sleep and who shrieks when he is wounded.

Geralt and Dandelion are so sassy and old/married with each other, deeply, proudly loving in actions, but always bickering.

It's sweet to see Dandelion have a friendship like the one he has with Regis.

It is so nice to hear that the games continued his love of Regis. (I haven't played them, so I get my info about them from you guys XD)

So thanks again for following me and for the ask! I hope I've done ok answering. I also love Dandy's dynamic with Nenneke and ofc Yen, but I'll stop there.

Hope your week goes really well. x

#the witcher #emiel regis #dandelion #jaskier #the witcher books #emiel regis rohellec terzieff godefroy #thinking about the witcher books yet again #thinking about dandelion yet again

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goosewriting · 1 year

Text

Make me a caf

summary: Hux seemingly wants to keep you around after you fix his caf machine.

relationship: Armitage Hux x GN reader

warnings: (18+) making out, sexual tension

word count: 7.4k (this one got away from me... i blacked out and woke up to this. i have no other explanation lol)

A/N: 100% self indulgent. partially inspired by @wordborne’s fic Strictly Business, which is a story for inquisitor!Cal. i wonder what it is about redheads in black outfits that’s so appealing to me lmao

prompt used: they are absolutely losing it, they pin you against the wall, hands on either side of your face, eyes looking down, they say through gritted teeth, "This isn't easy for me. I-I've never--You matter to me. And, You deserve way better than someone like me--" They're cut off when you pull their collar closer, shaking your head, somehow not fazed by his gaze that's ripping you bare. "I deserve you--everything of you, I want it." (source, by @urfriendlywriter)

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

Life sure takes interesting turns sometimes. You started out as a mechanic on your home planet, then got drafted by the First Order to work on many projects, the latest being a new base on the planet Ilum, which was a very exclusive and secret project. So not only did you have to relocate for a long time while the base got built, but also in the little leave you got, you weren’t really allowed to talk to anyone.

But you decided a long time ago that’s an okay price to pay for an honestly more than decent pay. You also don’t have to pay for housing or food, you get your own quarters, all your equipment, and even a droid. So, not too shabby.

It’s been a while since you moved to Ilum now, and it’s a morning like any other. You’re the first to arrive at the workshop and your droid beeps at you, telling you that there’s a special request coming in asking for a mechanic. You ask your companion from where it comes and it projects a schematic of the base, with the room in question blinking.

You swallow hard as you realise that’s the part of the base where the captains and generals are housed. But the message was marked as urgent, and you’re the only one here right now, so you take your tools and nod to your droid to follow you.

It takes a while to navigate the labyrinth of hallways; it was pretty rare for the lower deck people to come to these parts. You have to look at your droid’s map a couple of times, but finally you make it to the right wing. Even the design of the walls is different here than it is in the other floors, it’s more sophisticated somehow.

You arrive at the room number indicated on the message and read the name on the plaque next to the door: it’s General Hux’s room. Great.

Luckily you didn’t have to deal with him personally, ever really, but you did hear the rumours, and they weren’t all too… nice. Sure, talks about Kylo Ren and his anger issues sounded worse in a way, but at least he lashed out from time to time. Hux donned you as the kind of person to be so emotionally constipated that he probably didn’t remember how to express anything else on his face except for contempt. In fact you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen the man smile.

Taking a deep breath, you knock on the door, and you’re startled as it opens almost immediately. In front of you towers none other than the General himself, sans his coat, eyeing you and your droid up and down.

“You’re late,” is all he says as he turns on his heel, and you follow him silently, deciding there’s no point in arguing to him about how he summoned you to basically the other side of the base out of the blue.

You try not to stare too much, but you can’t help taking in his room: it’s spacious, clean and tidy. There’s a main room with a couch, a chair and a caf table, and a small kitchen to the side with a breakfast nook attached to it. An open door leads to a space you can’t see, but you assume it’s a hallway to the bedroom and refresher. For a whole organisation that seems to love their sleek designs in black and red, his quarters sure are light, which in turn makes them seem bigger. The wall in the far back of the living room has a huge window reaching almost from floor to ceiling, letting in plenty of natural light, reflected on the planet’s snowy landscape.

When Hux clears his throat, you rip your eyes off the place and bring them back to him, where he stands in the kitchen with his arms crossed.

“The caf machine is broken,” is all he says, then moves past you in a way that only entitled people do, where they expect the other to move out of their way, and takes a seat on the couch, reading through his datapad.

“Right,” you say through gritted teeth, thinking back to all your diplomas and licences to repair heavy machinery, artillery, spaceships, yet here you are, fixing a caf machine.

With a sigh you approach the device and get to work. You find the problem quickly, and luckily it’s an easy fix. You stretch out your arm to your droid, asking for a tool which is handed to you with a happy beep, and finish the repair within minutes.

“All done, Sir,” you call to Hux.

“Test it to make sure,” he orders without looking up.

“...Sir?”

He sighs.

“Make me a caf,” he clarifies. His tone isn’t particularly condescending or mocking though, it’s just flat.

“Uhm, yes, Sir,” you respond, turn to the machine and all its buttons, then back to him. “How would you like your caf, Sir?”

“Surprise me,” he answers and goes back to scrolling through his datapad.

You blink a couple of times, turning back to the device. This is one of those higher end machines, you’ve never really operated one. And you don’t even know where he keeps his stuff.

As if he could read your mind at your lack of movement, he says, “Caf is in the pantry, mugs are in the cupboard above.”

You open said cupboard, finding a collection of plain, black mugs, as well as an electric grinder. In the pantry you see not just an overwhelming amount of different caf beans types, but also a whole barista set, with the little press and the whisky thing. You have never used any of these; all you know is that these sets are rather expensive. And this man apparently knows his caf, so why would he ask a random mechanic to prepare it for him?

Wondering how it is you come into ridiculous situations like this alarmingly often, you get to work, grinding the beans (you didn't know a grinder could be this silent), placing everything in the machine and starting it up. In the pantry you also find some other spices and creamer, but you reckon Hux is the kind of man to take his caf black, so you don’t put in any of the latter. Instead you add a little bit of… you don’t even know what kind of spice it is, as the little jar is unlabeled, but it smells good.

“All done, Sir,” you say as you walk up to him with the steaming mug.

He gestures to the caf table in front of him with his chin, and you’re about to place the mug down, but then see a little basket with coasters donning the First Order symbol. You pick one up and slide it under the mug.

“You can see yourself out,” is all Hux says, without looking at the mug or you.

You hesitate for a moment, not expecting to just be sent off like that. Wasn’t he even gonna try it? Wait… Why were you even waiting for a response? It’s not like you cared.

“Yes, Sir,” you bow lightly and turn on your heels, calling your droid and leaving.

On the whole walk back to your workshop, you wonder what the kriff just happened, and hope that you won’t have to deal with the General for a long time. He’s so weird.

The universe seems to be against you though, because it is only the next day when you arrive at the workshop, but this time you’re not alone. You’re the first mechanic, as for the next couple of rotations you have the early shift, but there’s a Stormtrooper waiting; that can’t mean anything good.

“Good morning, Trooper,” you greet them with a smile as you approach them. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Grab your tools and follow me,” the modulated voice orders. You pack your little bag while the Trooper just stares, then tell your droid to come, but they lift a hand.

“Leave the droid.”

You couldn’t be more confused, but you comply, telling your droid to stay. It beeps sadly and slowly rolls back around your table, where it will probably stay and wait for you to come back. You feel a little bad, but there’s nothing you can do.

The Trooper doesn’t say anything else as you follow them through the pristine halls, your steps echoing off the walls. Every now and then you have to jog a little to catch up with their hasty pace. Soon enough the route seems oddly familiar and you feel like you’re having a déjà-vu.

“Where are we going again?” you ask, even though you haven’t been told yet where the Trooper is taking you.

“General Hux called for you,” they explain.

Okay, now you are confused. You fixed his caf machine, even made him a fresh cup of it. What could he possibly still want?

The rest of the way to the General’s room is silent again, and once you arrive at the door, the Trooper knocks twice, then stands guard next to it. Again, the door opens comically quickly, as if Hux had been behind it waiting the whole time. The thought makes you smile to yourself, and you try to suppress it the best you can.

“Ah, good, you found the mechanic,” Hux says, nodding to the Trooper, who nods back and leaves the way you came from.

“What can I do for you today, Sir?” you ask as you find yourself walking into his quarters again.

This time he has you following him through the hallway to the refresher, where he points at a flickering light.

“Fix it,” he orders and leaves.

Is this some sort of twisted game where he would have you do menial tasks every day? Is the First Order targeting you? Just what in the world is going on, you think, dropping your bag of tools onto the floor with more force than necessary. I have more urgent work to do.

Heaving a silent sigh, you inspect the light. Just as you thought, all it needed was to be screwed in tighter into its socket, and the flickering stopped.

Picking up your bag from the floor, you walk into the hallway. The door to his room is open and you steal a tiny peek inside. His bed is huge! Sure must be comfy…

“All done, Sir,” you report as you come to stand beside him.

“Excellent. Now,” he says as he leaves his datapad on the couch and stands up, taking a step towards you, towering over you. Instinctively you take a step back, and the tiniest of smiles appears on his freckled face. Huh, you hadn’t noticed before that he has freckles.

“Make me a caf,” he orders.

“Sir,” you start, averting your gaze from his piercing one. “With all due respect, you have a functioning caf machine right there. I don’t see why my presence is needed.”

He narrows his eyes at you.

“How did you prepare the caf yesterday?” he asks.

Oh Maker, he probably hated it, you think as you tighten your grip on the strap of your bag.

“Uhm, I…” you hate yourself for stumbling over your words. You bet he’s getting a kick out of this. “Was it not to your liking Sir? If so, I apologise–”

“That was the best damn caf I’ve had in a long time,” he interrupts you, and you can only look up at him in surprise. “How did you prepare it?”

“I made a… I think it’s called a blend?” you try your darndest to remember just what you did yesterday when you experimented with the ingredients in the pantry. “I used beans from two different packs. They seemed like they would go well together… Sir.”

Why did you even do that? You have no idea. You’re also pretty sure you added one of the spices.

“Interesting,” Hux remarks, leaning back to stand at his full height. You didn’t even notice he was leaning in so close to you.

You kinda just stand in place, waiting for further instructions, while his eyes seem to burn through your very soul, his face unreadable.

“Then, surprise me again, mechanic,” he orders, and walks back to the couch.

You gulp for what you’re about to say, but you don’t like how he calls you ‘mechanic’ like it’s a derogatory term.

“Actually, Sir, it’s…” you say and pause, waiting for him to turn to you, and then you tell him your name.

He repeats it, as if testing out how it sounds, and you reprimand yourself internally for the beat your heart just skipped when you heard him say it.

Hux turns his attention back to the datapad, and you quickly make your way into the kitchen, leaving your bag on one of the stools.

Once more you find yourself in front of the pantry, and you get to work. You sniff the different caf packets, trying to understand anything from the colourfully worded descriptions on the back. With a shrug, you just follow your nose like you did last time, and grind up two different kinds of beans, this time without any spices, and let the machine do the rest.

Once it’s ready, you bring it to the caf table, where a coaster is already waiting this time. You place down the mug and bring your hands behind your back, waiting to be dismissed.

But instead, Hux takes the mug into his hand, blowing softly on it, and takes a sip. All without breaking eye contact with you. He waits a couple of seconds and hums. You hope that’s a good thing.

“Interesting choice,” he remarks, looking into the dark liquid reflecting the room’s lights in ripples. “You’re dismissed.”

“Sir,” you excuse yourself with the same bow as yesterday, grab your bag, and leave his quarters.

You take a quick look at the time on your datapad and curse under your breath as you’re gonna be late for the second rotation in a row, and speed up your pace.

This whole spiel goes on for almost two weeks: Hux sends someone to retrieve you from the workshop early in the morning, has you do some menial task as an excuse for calling you, then orders you to make him caf. The feedback you get for your results is sparse at best, usually only one or two words. But you did notice that he has a preference for one type of blend mixed with a certain spice. You even went as far as looking up more things to spice caf up with on the holonet, trying to apply it to the ingredients in his pantry.

The more time you spend in his room, the more he opens up little by little as well. At first you’d work in silence. Then he’d sit on the stools by the kitchen instead of the couch, doing some work. Then he’d put down the datapad to watch you work, and it even came as far as doing smalltalk. Once he even asked you for your input regarding a technical matter in his work, where you caught a glimpse of some schematics of something huge. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you curious to know what he was working on.

As ridiculous as this whole situation was, not only did you find yourself looking forward to seeing a Trooper every morning, but you made it your goal to make a caf that would blow Hux’s socks right off.

It’s shortly after the two week mark of this whole thing that you’re on your way to the workshop, expecting to see a Trooper to pick you up, but the place is actually empty, save for your co-worker who’s on the early shift. You greet your droid, who beeps happily at your arrival, and you look around.

“Did anyone come by, buddy?” you ask, and get a negative beep-boop.

When you ask the other mechanic, she also says it’s been just her until now.

Huh, weird. No, wait, hold on a minute – why are you even expecting to get summoned in the first place? You can finally catch up on all the work you’re behind on because of the little “caf-scapades”, as you’ve been calling them.

“Alright, let’s get to work,” you tell your droid and pat it a couple of times. “There’s a lot to do.”

The nagging feeling that something is wrong doesn’t leave you though, in fact, the more time passes, the stronger it seems to get. By the end of your shift, you wonder if you should pay the General a visit out of your own volition. But you decide against it, after all he could be on a mission somewhere, or maybe he was busy today. Either way, it’s none of your business.

You wrap up for the day and finish cleaning your workstation, get your dinner, and not long after, find yourself getting ready for bed. After a quick shower, you change into a tank top and shorts, your go-to sleepwear. You’re glad that despite the harsh outside conditions, the living quarters are well heated.

Just as you’re lifting the blanket to get into your bed, you hear your datapad beep twice: a message. You wonder who it could be this late at night.

With a sigh, you make your way to the table and pick up the device, squinting at the light in your already dark room. You almost drop it to the floor when you see the message: “Come now. Alone.” It’s from an unknown sender, but marked as urgent: it’s gotta be from Hux. You glance at the time and roll your eyes. Of course he would have you on a regular trip to his room every morning for half a month, then suddenly stop, only to call you to his room in the middle of the night. Just what is this guy’s deal?!

You look down at yourself and sigh. This isn’t how you want the General to see you, at least not right now. Not yet. Perhaps.

You don’t really own any civilian clothes, as you’re always in the base. The only non overall kind of clothing you have is a First Order uniform, but that one is only ever really used for official events or gatherings. Plus it’s rather stiff.

All your coveralls are currently either covered in grease and/or smell of engine oil. Besides, you don’t wanna wear those over your PJs. So you grab the next best option, which is the summer version of the coveralls you almost never use because they have short sleeves, and it’s mandatory to wear long sleeves and gloves in most of the hangars and workshops. They’re clean at least, so you quickly jump into them, not even bothering to zip it up all the way, slip into your boots and head out.

Walking down the hallways to the military wing of the base at this time of night is strange; for some reason there’s more Troopers and people out and about than in the early mornings. They give you a strange side-eye when walking past you, but no one seems to question your presence at least.

When you finally make it to Hux’s room, you lift your hand to knock, but hesitate.

Why would he call you out here at this hour anyways? On one side you expect him to tell you that he’s grown tired and bored of you. On the other side you know he wouldn’t do that, not like this at least.

All day, ever since not being picked up by a Trooper, you’ve been plagued by this little voice in your head. A nagging feeling that was disguised as a strange curiosity to know where the caf-scapades would bring you two in terms of getting to know each other, yet you knew that beneath it was genuine worry for the General. He doesn’t contact you all day, then suddenly messages you (which means he went out of his way to get your contact information, since you hadn’t given it to him), and here you are, running to him the second he calls you.

You grimace at the thought, or rather the realisation, that you actually came to… like the General.

He has a weird sense of humour, and isn’t good at expressing how he feels. But if you look closely enough, you can recognise the subtle changes in his face that give away his thoughts. You can’t deny that he is very handsome, but you’re also aware that he can be a dangerous man. You’ve heard enough stories of what he and Ren have done and are capable of. And yet… There's something about his presence, like he’s surrounded by this air full of purpose and confidence, that you can’t help being pulled towards him.

So yeah, you’re intrigued by him. And you want to see more.

Taking a deep breath, you knock on the door in the pattern you usually do.

But the door stays closed.

Suddenly it dawns on you that you didn’t actually know for sure who sent the message. What if it wasn’t Hux, and something happened to him? What if he was hurt and this was all a trap?

You hold your breath, tilting your ear towards the door, trying to hear if there’s anyone at all in there, when you suddenly hear a groan from the other side.

You’re about to call out to Hux but stop yourself. You’re sure it was a groan right, and not a… moan? You feel heat rising to your cheeks at the thought.

Shaking away the images threatening to flood your brain, you knock again. You really hope you’re not interrupting anything.

This time the groan is louder, clearly pained, and it’s calling your name.

“Sir?” you ask, now definitely worried for his well-being, all other theories thrown out the window.

Suddenly, the door whooshes open, but there’s no one in front of it. Instead, you see the remote aimed at the entrance (so that’s how he opened the door so quickly), held by a Hux who’s half hanging from the couch onto the floor.

“General!” you call, close the door behind you and rush to his side.

Hux is only wearing his trousers; his shirt, jacket and belt are strewn on the floor. He probably was trying to get dressed or change, but collapsed. You grab his arms to pull him up, and you get to sit him down properly on the couch. His face is flushed all the way down to his neck, clearly running a fever. Your hand shoots up to touch his forehead and he’s burning. He weakly swats your hand away and winces in pain, his eyes shut tightly, and you feel your own gaze travelling down his jaw to his collarbones, to all the freckles covering his shoulders and pecs.

Forcing yourself to tear away your eyes, you shake his shoulder lightly.

“Sir, you need to go to bed and rest,” you tell him.

“I- I was… trying,” he huffs between heavy breaths, his eyes meeting your own in what you guess was meant to be a glare, but they lack their usual intensity.

“Lean onto me,” you instruct, pulling him up by an arm and throwing it over your shoulder. You feel how he’s fighting to slump all of his weight on you, and get moving.

It takes a while and Hux almost falls to the floor twice, but you make it to his room, where he lets himself fall onto the bed. You rush to the refresher, where you remember seeing a first aid kit, and bring it back to the room. You help him take off his boots and lift the blanket for him to climb into the bed, tucking him in once he’s settled. Then you sit down on the edge of the bed and start unpacking the kit. A cold patch goes to his forehead and you take his temperature, which is way too high.

“I’m gonna give you a stim, okay?” you warn him as you take it out of the kit, pulling the blanket down a little so you can apply it. You stick it below his collarbone in a quick motion, and he hisses.

“There, there,” you coo and can’t help but smile. He grunts as he places his forearm over his face, and you pull the blanket back up properly.

After packing everything into the kit and putting it to the side, you go to the kitchen to get a cup of water. Back in the room, you hand Hux some pills and the cup, and he downs it all without even asking what it is and with no snarky remark, which makes you feel even worse for him; the fever must be really bad.

You’re still sitting at his side, taking in his state and wondering what else you can do, when a question pops into your head.

“Why did you call me, General?” you ask him, and he peeks at you from under his arm. “Shouldn’t you have gotten a nurse or a medical droid?”

“Didn’t get my caf today,” he rasps.

“Oh, so it’s my fault you came down with a fever?” you retort playfully. He nods, and you can’t help but laugh a little.

“So now I gotta make up for my mistake?” you add, and he nods again. You exhale through your nose with a smile. “Well, General, I did all I can do for you. I’m gonna go get a medical droid–”

But before you can stand up, his hand shoots up to grab your wrist, yanking you back down.

“Armitage,” he whispers, blinking a couple of times, trying to focus his eyes on you.

“Sir–” is all you get out, trying to loosen his grip on your wrist.

“Call me Armitage,” he repeats, louder this time, eyes suddenly full of an intensity you didn’t know he had left in his state.

“Sir, I can’t– You’re–” you whimper in pain as his grip tightens around you even more. “You’re hurting me, Armitage.”

Hux looks up at you a moment longer, then down at his hand, and suddenly lets go, as if he only now realised what he was doing.

“I– I didn’t mean to…” he mumbles as his hand hesitantly reaches up to your wrist again, but much gentler this time. His fingers ghost over the irritated skin, taking your hand in his larger one, and bringing it to his mouth to kiss your knuckles.

“Stay the night,” he orders, and you feel like your heart, brain, lungs – everything just stops working altogether.

“Gener–” you start but his brows furrow in a warning glare, so you correct yourself. “Armitage, I really shouldn’t. I can’t.”

Not when you’re like this, at least, you add in your mind.

“I won’t do anything, I promise,” he assures you, his face softening, but eyes still as intense. “Just stay by my side.”

Your eyes fall to your hand still in his, and you feel him give you a squeeze. After a moment, you return it. You’re aware that this can end in one of two ways: it’s either the start of something very interesting, or the end of your career as you know it. Are you really about to risk it all for some fun?

“Okay,” you finally give in, and he sighs in relief.

Hux pats the space next to him in his enormous bed, and you walk over to the other side of it, lying down on top of the blanket. He holds your hand again and closes his eyes, starting to drift off.

– – – – –

The next morning, Hux wakes up to a dull pang of pain behind his eyes. He squints as he takes in his surroundings. When did he get to bed? Did he forget to close the blinds last night? Sitting up in the bed, he sees the patch from his forehead fall into his lap. Did he get that himself from the refresher? Why can’t he remember anything from last night?

He throws his legs over the edge of the bed, seeing that he’s still wearing his uniform’s trousers. On the nightstand is a glass of water and some pills which he assumes to be aspirin. He downs it, drinking the whole thing. Why is he so thirsty?

His eyes travel over the bed when he realises that not only is the other side ruffled, as if someone had slept there, but there’s some mechanic’s overalls neatly folded at the end of the bed too. He freezes, racking his brain for any events of the night prior, but it’s all a blur.

Suddenly he hears some clinking sounds from the kitchen. Sniffing the air he also smells food. Just as he’s about to get up to investigate, you come walking through the door, and his heart skips several beats. You’re only wearing a tank top and shorts, showing much more skin than he’d ever seen from you, and he immediately decides that he likes what he sees.

“Oh, you’re up,” you say, coming to a halt just as you pass the door, suddenly very self-conscious of how his eyes are essentially eating you up. “I made breakfast, and caf. Are you feeling any better?”

He doesn’t answer, instead looking down at the floor. You being here, dressed like this, does that mean that last night you two…? And if so, why couldn’t he remember any of it?!

Given his lack of response, you walk around the bed and stand in front of Hux, looking at him with worry.

“Hey, are you okay?” you ask, your hand coming up to his forehead. You sigh in relief when you notice his fever is almost gone, but you don’t miss how he tenses up at your touch. So if he’s back to normal again… “A-Armitage?”

Hux straightens up suddenly at the use of his name, and looks at you with a ferocity you hadn’t seen before. You instinctively take a step back, and immediately regret it when you see the hurt cross his face for a split second. Hux’s eyes fall and go to your hand which had just been on his forehead moments ago. A scowl spreads on his face as he carefully takes your wrist and brings it up to his face to inspect the bruising that spreads from the back of your hand to almost the middle of your forearm.

“Who did this to you?” he asks through gritted teeth, clearly upset.

“You did,” you answer, and he looks up at you in disbelief. “You don’t… remember anything from last night?”

“I don’t,” he groans, and when he looks back up at you, his ears burn in the cutest shade of pink. “Since I don’t remember, I have to ask… Did we… last night?”

Your cheeks get set ablaze as you shake your head, biting your lip. When he sighs in relief, you feel your heart sink momentarily, but it resumes its erratic beating with his next words.

“I’d hate myself if something happened and I didn’t remember it the next day,” he’s quick to clarify, still not letting go of your hand. “And about this… I’m sorry.”

You don’t think that apologies are something that comes easy to Hux, so you know you should just take it as such and shut up, but you can’t help your blabbering, trying to make him feel better for some reason.

“Don’t worry about it, I bruise easily,” you say with a sheepish smile. “Besides, I’ve had worse. I’ll survive.”

“Worse?” Hux asks, concerned for you and at the same time enraged at the thought of someone else hurting you.

“Yeah, look at this,” you reply, removing your hand from his to lift your shirt up a little, while the other pulls down the hem of your shorts ever so slightly, to show him a scar that goes from above your hip bone up and around your ribcage. “This one I got from when an engine fell on me.”

So you meant work accidents and not someone else laying a hand on you. Hux feels the earlier rage dissipate as he takes in your scar, and the way you so easily bared yourself to him.

Being pulled towards him by your hips, you watch in complete shock when Hux places the softest of kisses on your scar, then traces it with his fingers. He’s so close, you wonder if he can hear your heart pounding against your ribcage.

“Shall we get breakfast then?” he asks, suddenly very matter-of-factly, and stands up. “Wouldn’t want the caf to get cold after all.”

Hux walks past you to the wardrobe, getting out of your sight as he stands behind the open door. You take a moment to control your breathing and imagination, then walk towards the kitchen.

When he joins you on the stools, you notice he changed into more comfortable clothes, and you pass him his mug and a plate of eggs and bacon.

“I can also make some porridge if you think you’d stomach that better?” you offer.

“This is perfect,” he retorts, and starts eating.

You prop your hand on your elbow for a second, just taking in this moment which seems… strangely domestic. And peaceful. It feels like something you could get used to.

Snapping back to reality, you check the time on the microwave, and scramble to your feet.

“Ah, kriff! I’m so late!” you start running back and forth, gathering your things. You quickly slip into your overalls and jump into your boots without even tying them up. You appear once more next to Hux, who’s still calmly enjoying his breakfast.

“You better take the day off. I don’t want to see you around, you hear me?” you tell him, pointing at him with a scolding finger. “Drink plenty of water and stay in bed, okay? Message me if anything comes up.”

Before you realise what you’re doing, you place a quick kiss to his cheek, say your goodbyes and dash out the door, leaving a very perplexed Hux in the kitchen.

It’s only as you’re rushing down the halls that you realise not only what you’ve done but also how this must look to the passers-by: someone getting out of a high ranking officer’s room with rather dishevelled hair, not having even put on your clothes properly. You swallow your pride though, ignoring all the looks you get, and run as fast as you can to your room to get changed.

When you finally make it to the workshop, it’s no surprise to see your supervisor there, and he’s fuming. You try to sneak by to your workstation somehow, but he sees you and calls you over to his office, where he gives you an earful about impunctuality and responsibility and yadda yadda yadda. Then he goes on about how highly irregular this behaviour is from you since you’ve always been a diligent worker, and you better think twice before not appearing for work next time.

You bite your tongue and let it all pass over you. As long as you finish your work within the deadline, there’s no real risk here.

When your boss finally lets you go, you rush to your droid and get to work immediately. The next couple of rotations you’re immersed in your job, taking shift after shift to catch up on everything you still have to get done. In all this time, there’s no messages from Hux, and you’re glad, because you would probably say things to him that you’d regret later if you saw him right now. Getting so behind schedule in the first place is kind of his fault. Sure, you never told him that you were losing precious hours of work, but you didn’t think it’d get this far. That you would come to enjoy his company and hope he enjoyed yours, to the point where he had asked you to spend the night.

So, right now, you don’t want to see him, not until after the deadline. But the universe has other plans for you yet again, as it is the day before it that you see Hux again.

You had told him he should message you. He could have gone and sent a Trooper for you like last time. But no, what does this guy do? Comes to get you personally.

If it wasn’t for your droid, you wouldn’t even have seen him coming because you’re currently head-first inside a cockpit, trying to reach some cables. But its beeps alert you, and you spring up so hastily that you hit your head on the dashboard.

With a hiss and rubbing over the spot you just hit, you get out of the ship, where Hux and two of his Troopers are waiting.

“General Hux,” you greet with a polite smile, “What can I do for you?”

“Come with me,” he orders, and for a moment you look at him in disbelief.

Just what is he getting at now? No greeting, no nothing? Just ordering you around again, in front of your crew? Making you lose even more hours of work? Oh, two can play that game.

“No,” you retort after a scoff.

He comes to a halt and turns around slowly, his eyes narrowed at you in a warning glare.

“I beg your pardon?” he asks, his whole body language telling you to measure your next words very carefully, but instead, you slightly lift your chin in a defiant gesture.

“Then beg.”

Hux curls his fists at his side, and the Troopers lift their blasters to aim at you, but he lifts one hand, and they lower their weapons, but not without giving each other a look behind the General.

At this point the whole workshop is so silent, you’re sure you’d be able to hear a needle drop onto the metallic floor. Even the TIE fighters in the hangars around you seem to roar more silently.

“I am the General in charge of this base and you will listen to me!” he suddenly yells, and you avert your eyes. You can’t believe he just pulled rank on you.

Letting the tool you were holding fall into the toolbox with a clank, you walk up to him, still not looking him in the eyes.

He slightly shakes his head at you, then turns on his heels and heads for the hallway, with you in tow and the Troopers at the end.

Hux takes a different route than expected; instead of taking you to his quarters, which are pretty far away, he heads to the office wing, finding an empty conference room and getting in. He slams the button on the panel for the blinds, and the inner windows dividing the room and the hallway go dark.

“No interruptions,” he instructs the Troopers through gritted teeth, then closes the door.

You find yourself in the rather dark room now, alone, with a seemingly very angry General. He suddenly turns around and takes quick steps towards you, pushing you back against the conference table and trapping you between his arms.

“Don’t you dare defy me like that again in front of the others,” he threatens you.

“Defy you?” you say with a wry smile, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “You don’t get to order me around like your Stormtroopers. You can ask nicely, you know? Or just, I don’t know, like a normal person?”

He groans, slamming his fist onto the table, which startles you. You don’t like this attitude at all, so you push him back and take a step to the side.

“General– No, Armitage,” you try softening him up by using his name, and it seems to be working. “What even are we?”

He starts walking towards you again, slowly backing you up against the wall this time.

“If this is just a game to you, then–” you start, your hands on his chest in an attempt to push him off, but you don’t actually put any strength into it because you know what you actually want. So you let yourself be pushed further, your heart pounding with every step backwards you take. “Then let’s just stop right here. But if you’re serious about this, you need to tell me, please…”

By now, Hux is absolutely losing it, and he finally pins you against the wall, hands on either side of your face, eyes looking down into yours.

"This isn't easy for me,” he says through gritted teeth. “I– I've never– You matter to me. And, maybe you deserve better than someone like me–"

He’s cut off when you pull him closer by the collar, shaking your head, somehow not fazed by his gaze that's ripping you bare.

"I deserve you– everything of you, I want it,” you breathe.

With that, Hux’s last thread of self-control snaps, and he presses his body against yours, smashing his lips on yours. The kiss is heated, sloppy and messy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Finally you’re able to show just how much you’ve been longing for each other.

The General slips his hands under your thighs, pulling you up against the wall. You gasp in surprise and he uses that to press his tongue against yours. You hook your ankles behind him, both your hands roaming each other in desperation.

When you finally break for air, you’re panting, but Hux attacks your neck next, and he’s relentless. He spends what feels like an eternity and yet nowhere near enough kissing, biting, licking every inch of your skin he can reach. You’re sure the grip of his hands on your legs will leave bruises again, but this time you find yourself looking forward to them.

Once Hux seems satisfied, he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his shoulders rising and falling quickly with his ragged breathing.

“When you showed me that scar,” he whispers against your skin. “I thought I was gonna take you then and there.”

He leans his head back only enough to look at you, and the intensity of his eyes sends a shudder to your very bones.

“I’ll map every inch of your skin, every scar, mole and freckle, and mark it up. I want all of you,” he growls, and you’re not sure if it’s supposed to be a threat or a promise; you’re just glad that he’s holding you in place because your knees have long since given out.

You cup his face, and bring him in for another kiss. This time it’s much slower, gentler, but just as deep.

“I’d like that,” you breathe into his lips, and he smiles.

When he finally lets you down, you have to hold onto Hux because of how wobbly your legs are.

“You good?” he asks, his hands on the underside of your arms to hold you.

“Yeah,” you reassure him, and have to choke back a laugh when you look up at him.

“What?” he questions with an amused little smile.

“Come here, lemme fix your hair. You’re quite a mess,” you say, and he leans down so you can smooth out his hair as best as you can.

“Well, you should see yourself,” he chuckles as he returns the favour.

Once you’re both more or less presentable, you walk to the door. Before Hux opens it though, he takes your hand one last time in his and brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles.

“See you tonight?” he asks, hopeful.

“Can’t wait,” you say with a wink.

– – – – –

Bonus:

When you make it back to your table in the workshop with a dreamy look on your face, your co-worker brings her hand to her mouth with a gasp.

“What?” you ask her, looking around in surprise, trying to find the source of her horror.

“Really? The General?!” she whisper-shouts, gesturing to you to follow her.

She guides you to the little supply closet at the end of the workshop and rummages in a box for a clean rag.

“What do you mean? Was it so obvious?” you ask, your cheeks still ablaze from before.

“Obvious?” she repeats rhetorically, handing you the rag and a little pocket mirror. “Honey, you can see those hickeys all the way from Coruscant.”

“Wait, what?” you blurt out and look into the mirror. Sure enough, the General made sure you won’t be able to walk around the base without a turtleneck for several rotations. He went absolutely ham.

“Gha!” you shriek, tying the rag around your neck like a scarf. “I’m gonna kill him!”

#goose feathers #hux x reader #general hux x reader #armitage hux x reader #sw hux x reader #star wars x reader

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anashins · 9 months

Note

i love the snow in london fic! I didn't see the plot twist coming haha.

Also may i request a jeno-jaehyun-reader love triangle? :)

Pairing: Jeno x Reader x Jaehyun

Genre: angst, romance

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Jeno will always pick up the phone when you call. In every lifetime, in every universe, he will pick up.

A/N: Thanks for liking my story and for requesting! This is based on a real life conversation I had with my summer-situationship lol We are stronger than this, girlies!

“Why are you calling me?’”

“Why are you picking up?”

“I will always pick up when you call,” you heard Jeno say over the phone. “You know that.”

Turning your head against the night sky, you - once again - realized how lucky you actually were. You had a boyfriend of two years who loved you very much, you had moved into your first apartment with him and marriage was in the talks between you.

You should be entirely happy.

But you weren’t.

As you were standing on your balcony at 3 am, you realized that the man who was sleeping peacefully in the bedroom and the man you were calling because you missed him so much weren’t the same person.

“You texted me first a few days ago.” It shouldn’t sound like an accusation, so you quickly added, “And ever since then, I’ve been thinking of you again.”

“Again?” A chuckle followed that made you smile secretly. “Oh honey, you can’t tell me you haven’t been thinking of me at all. I bet you have even kept my pictures in your phone, looking at them every now and then while your boyfriend is sleeping soundly next to you.”

You hated how cocky he sounded. And how right he was. In your secret folder, you had kept all the memories you had made with Jeno in the short period you had been together.

Could you even call it ‘being together’? You had spent a great summer together, having fallen in love so quickly and deeply like never before in your life. You had thought that this was it, that your feelings were finally reciprocated and you got the fairytale-like happy ending you had always dreamed of.

The fairytale had quickly turned into a nightmare the moment he had claimed to love you too, but not wanting to be with you, because he couldn’t see himself being in a relationship, leaving you heartbroken like never before in your life over a man who you had only known for three months.

How come letting go of a situationship was so much harder than letting go of a long term relationship?

“Don’t say that,” you chided.

“I said that because I’m doing that too, you know. Our memories are my most beloved possession.”

His voice was softer now, almost as though he was sharing a secret, and you wondered what his face looked like at this very moment. Somehow, you had a very hard time imagining it. It had been so long.

“And yet, you still haven’t chosen to be with me.” This time, the harshness in your voice was real and there was nothing to conceal about it. “And you still wouldn’t.”

“You wouldn’t be happy with me, you know that.” He sounded consoling, but there was nothing to console. The tears that you caught with your fingertips on your cheek by accident were tears of anger mostly. “I’m happy that you have found someone who can offer you everything you have ever wanted in a relationship, because you deserve all that. I can’t be this person.”

“I know.” Your heart hurt so much again, it was like you got catapulted back in time and experienced the heartbreak of his rejection all over again. “But sometimes, I cannot stop wondering to ask myself ‘what if’… Do you think in another lifetime or in another universe, we are actually happy together?”

“In another lifetime or universe, we would be happy together, I’m sure about that.”

“Yeah.”

In a lifetime or universe that didn’t include his traumatic past and you wanting to fix what couldn’t be fixed. In a lifetime or universe that didn’t include you asking for much and he not being able to even give the bare minimum. In a lifetime or universe where you were both healed and not only happy together, but also individually.

"But in every lifetime and universe, I will pick up when you call."

You took a deep breather, wiped the last tear from your cheek and said, “You can delete my number for good now, Jeno. It’s time to fully let go.”

And Jeno responded willingly, without hesitation, “Okay.”

In the arms of Jaehyun, you had always felt the safest. He was the one for you, you knew that for sure. Even if your mind wandered, your heart never did.

You just wished your feelings were just as stable and didn’t waver as easily, that they wouldn’t doubt you or get confused so easily when your thoughts grew big and toxic. As long as they knew their base though, you assumed you were going to be fine in the end.

You were only a human too, after all.

When you returned to bed and cuddled up to Jaehyun, he directly slung his arms around you and pressed a kiss on your temple.

With a sleepy voice, he asked, “Where were you?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Tell me what’s on your mind.”

He pulled you close to him, one arm serving as a pillow for you and the other touching your stomach.

“My friends all say you’re so good for me. You make me feel like I should feel. That you’re the one for me, because your love is true. Is it? Do you think so too?”

It tickled in the nape of your neck when he chuckled. “Every now and then, you still have these doubts?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t ever be sorry. Because no matter how many times you doubt it, I will prove it to you over and over again. In every lifetime and in every universe, I will prove it to you.”

You slid your hand into his one that was close to your stomach, intertwining your fingers. “Yeah, me too.”

Except for the fact that there was one lifetime, one universe in which there was someone else you would have chosen. But you kept it to yourself and settled contently with the thought that a ‘you’ in the other reality with Jeno already existed and was just as happy as the you lying in Jaehyun’s arms now.

But you didn’t delete his number.

In case that in this lifetime and universe, you had to call him.

#jeno #lee jeno #jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #nct #nct 127 #jeno imagines #jeno scenarios #jeno x reader #jeno x you #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x you #jaehyun x reader #nct x reader #nct x you #nct scenarios #nct imagines #requests

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chubs-deuce · 6 months

Note

Haaard agree on anti-Chaggie post (so sorry Chaggie shippers. We love you)

Alastor is known to steal the attention of people whenever he is on screen. But when he is with Charlie it makes it more interesting! They bounce off of each other in an entertaining way. Even if you don't ship them they are funny. Alastor is getting a kick out of just talking to Charlie. He finds her amusing (probably in a mean way lol). And Charlie while thinks he is an asshole, (cus he is!) she sees he tries to help her even with an obvious hidden ulterior motive.

They don't see eye to eye in their goals but at least they are both real characters with their own motivations and that makes them very dynamic with each other. Also they are both goofs, love 'em

Chaggie has fans within people that just want cute and non-dramatic relationships. Or just a queer couple that is wholesome without any dramatics. Valid!

It's just awkward that Vaggie is all about Charlie. This one thing puts me off. Considering my previous experience with it was in Steven Universe (Rose and Pearl, anyone?). But it's just personal thing. Sometimes things like that are funny like "they are obsessed with this person lololo" or "they are... Uncomfortably obsessed with this person"

[I think it depends on if the other person is on the same level? Charlie seemed somehow dismissive of Vaggie but it can be explained that the plot was just more focused on hotel than them (ugh 8eps. waiting for S2 to have fillers).]

Shipping is all about preferences and that's okay! My friend is a Chaggie shipper and I am a Charlastor shipper. I asked her to explain to me the appeal and she explained it as "a cute couple that has no conflict whatsoever. People like that exist and it's more common than very dramatic or action-driven couples". And I just like a bit fucked up dynamics where I watch someone in that dynamic go through some emotional turmoil (mostly Alastor<3) and also co-workers/housemates dynamic (when I need something cute and simple)

Some people just prefer down to earth things, especially if their life is a rollercoaster. What's important is to respect each other!

Sorry for a lil essay. I just think sometimes it's important to say "these are prefrences. We don't hate you for not liking your thing and the same goes in vice versa"

All fandoms have a group of people that is.... A bit too devoted to something. Respect others even if they don't like the same thing you do. Instead ask them to explain to you why they like it in a non-hostile manner or don't interact at all.

We're all tired of shipping wars, especially when some companies add oil to this fire to monetize more. I just want to get back to old fandom days when you both would be shopping different things and then end up in a make out session /j

Sorry for an essay again. Love your art, especially when you draw unhinged or going insane Alastor because Charlie makes him "feel". Thanks for all the content<3

This!!! So much this!!!

I hardly even need to add anything to this tbh, you already said everything that needs to be said perfectly!

I often like to think of shipping as the more adult version of playing with dolls, and that different people will play with their dolls differently! Some may prefer to follow the instructions on the packaging, playing with the toys exactly as intended, whereas others might find that boring and instead prefer to mix things up and do their own thing!

How I play with my set of dolls should have absolutely no impact on how you play with your own.

Thank you so much for writing out this ask, I'm honestly really glad to see that common sense and critical thinking skills within fandoms haven't completely died out yet lmfao

#chubs answers #anti chaggie #hazbin hotel #charlastor #bc it was mentioned

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simplydannie · 3 months

Text

I just love protective brother Veneer okay!! Also, some ideas I’m playing around with to update my AU…again lol

Fame comes with a price… sometimes that includes handsy, creepy fans. It’s all fine, until it comes down to his sister… that’s where Veneer draws the line.

She did it.

The Mistress had found her six superstars. The six she was to bring up from Under Rageous to sail in stardom in Mount Rageous. That’s what they were referred to by the agency, the powers, the higher ups in Mount Rageous…The Six.

And the queen and king of these six were the twins, Velvet and Veneer. Each star knew and used the essence of the Troll…but somehow these twins had an hypnotic effect on the crowd. They brought in the most money, their music was the most downloaded, their images the most searched. The other four stars and starlets only looked upon the twins with envy as they continued to rise and rise.

The twins were treated like royalty by the agency, including Mistress. They were her little money makers…..Unfortunately, she didn’t care much for their well being, including the seductive eyes that would be thrown at either of her stars. Veneer began noticing this. He saw how they would look at him, especially his sister. Mistress told him not to worry, she told him it’s just all part of the job….but he didn’t like it, he didn’t like it one bit.

As a brother, his instincts kicked in…he was protective. What if one day these maniacs decided to take action on her?…

They were on a press tour to kick off their new album. They were being interviewed by DJ Orbit…only the best of the best would make it on his show, and they were there. Veneer was only half paying attention to what was being asked. His little facade began to fall as he saw the hungry eyes of the production team eyeing his sister. Unknowingly a scowl came over his face…

“You good there bud?”

Veneer just realized he was being talked to, “Huh?” He turned to see that Orbit had asked him a question. Velvet elbowed him. Get your act together, her eyes seemed to say.

Orbit laughed, “My question went out to both you: how do you come up with these songs that just captivates the people? Velvet already answered, what’s your take?”

Veneer was lost for words. If he had been paying attention he’d know what Velvet had said and would have followed up…He had to BS it now, “Well, as always, I follow my sister’s lead. She’s the brains who knows how to take any idea and make it..….” Again, they were eyeing her, he could see it. It stopped him in his tracks and kept him from saying anything more…

“And make it…?” Orbit seemed to push for an answer.

“…AMAZING! Make it amazing!” Veneer finished off.

“Of course what do we expect from the amazing Velvet herself! That’s all the time we have for today! We are greatly looking forward to this new album! It has already been labeled the most anticipated album of the year. Velvet and Veneer everyone!”

They cut.

“Thank you guys. Now as always, your fans await.”

As they stood up, Veneer kept eyeing the production team behind the cameras. They noticed his glare and turned away…That’s what he thought.

“What the hell Veneer! You can totally tell your mind wasn’t in that interview.” Velvet scolded as they headed to their next stop.

“Sorry! I was distracted…There were some creeps eyeing you..”

“Really Ven? Tell me something new I don’t know.”

“Doesn’t it bother you?”

“It’s all part of the job.”

The twins were lead through two doors that lead to the outside of the studio. A red carpet was laid out that led to their limo. On either side fans chanted their names. As they walked by the fans attempted to reach out and touch their skin, their clothes, their hair, anything. They were ushered through by security and as always, followed by cameras. Fans were asking for pictures and autographs. To keep their image, they obliged. Veneer stopped to take pictures with one side while Velvet went to the other. Throughout the whole time he eyed his sister, keeping careful watch over her.

She came across a group of boys who reached out and grabbed her arm. With a teasing smile she withdrew, but again they reached to touch her hand, her arm, her hair. Before he knew it, Veneer was between the boys and his sister.

“Aw, thank you for the support, but I would like if you didn’t touch my sister that way.” Veneer did his best to smile and pull her back.

“Knock it off Veneer. You’re going to make us look bad.” She whispered to him, but he stayed, still attempting to keep a smile. She pulled away from him and returned to her fans going down along the line. The star cameras that followed them hovered over Veneer….they were watching, so he put on a smile and kept going continuing to keep a watchful eye. They continued to reach out to her, one fan in particular got too comfortable and wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her in for a picture. Velvet attempted to pull her self away teasingly, but he had a good grip. He planted a kiss on Velvet’s cheek causing the crowd to gasp and aw in unison…But something snapped in Veneer…

He ran over and pushed the guy away from her…

“What the hell dude!”

“Veneer! Enough!” Velvet warned as the star cameras surrounded them. The crowd went quiet.

“S-sorry.” He murmured to her.

“Thank you! Thank you everyone! We really have to go now! Oh my gosh I love you too!” Velvet chimed to the crowd. The boy reach again pulling her in for another picture and planting another kissed on her cheek….Veneer could see how uncomfortable she was, but for the image, she played it off, which encouraged the guy more.

“Give me your number. I’ll definitely show you a good time.” He licked his lips….That’s when Veneer pounced...

“AAHHHH WHAT THE HELL!!! GET OFF ME SHIT FACE!!!!” The guy screamed as he was tackled to the ground by Veneer. Velvet called out her brother’s name, telling him, warning him to stop. The cameras hovered around them.

“Cameras off!” Velvet demanded…but they didn’t shut down. The recorded as Veneer began beating on the guy that was sprawled out on the floor. He kept attempting to get up, but Veneer continued to drag him down.

“Stop. Touching. My. Sister!” He said as he kept pounding the guy on the face. The crowd gasped and yelled. Security came and pulled Veneer off the bystander. They hauled him away towards the limo along with Velvet.

“WHAT THE HELL VENEER!” She screamed once they were alone in the vehicle.

“How could you let him touch you like that? I know you felt uncomfortable.” He responded.

“Who cares! It’s all part of the job!!! They recorded all that!! All of Rageous just saw what you did!!! To a fan!”

“No. They saw what I did to a creep.”

“This isn’t going to be good Veneer! You do this just as we’re about to release a new album! Oh my god they’re going to be mad! You screwed up Veneer!!!”

The Six were gathered into a conference room. A table at the center, the Mistress sitting at the opposite end scowling at her computer. A set of eyes turned to smirk at the twins….their cousins, Cashmere and Luster, the other sibling duo, though they weren’t twins.

“Screwed up big time didn’t we Vincent.” Luster smirked.

“Of course he would brother. What rises must eventually fall.” Cashmere smiled with an evil glint in her eye.

“Screw you.” Velvet said.

They all hushed as Mistress stood up from her desk. She walked around and stood in front of her six stars, casting a foul glare at Veneer.

“What the hell….was that.” She demanded.

He took a moment, but he finally answered, “He was touching her. He was getting to handsy. He just…wouldn’t stop.”

“Have I not told you all that this job comes with a price. A price you all must pay for. Fans adore you, they lust for you. You are there to satisfy their wildest dreams and greatest desires.” She said.

“But….That’s…..That’s wrong.” Veneer said.

“If the rest of your peers understand it, how is it that you don’t!” Mistress’s temper began to rise. Veneer fell silent. Looking around him he saw that everyone was willing to pay that price. Of course he would, but he couldn’t see that being done to his sister. For years it had just been them two, a protectiveness had grown in him to protect her always…but it seems that was all gone now. He hung his head low in defeat.

“I’m sorry…” He finally said.

“Cashmere and Luster, it’s your turn to shine.”

Cashmere smiled wickedly, “Of course Mistress. Let’s go brother.” They both smirked at the twins as they left.

“Thanks a lot Veneer!” Velvet scolded.

“Take him to his quarters. I shall deal with him accordingly when i am done dealing with this mess he created….Oh, and skip his dinner as well.” Two giant Bergens came in and grasped Veneer by both his arms dragging him off to his room.

“Wait? What? What’s going to….Why are you locking him up?” Velvet asked.

“Children that act out need to be punished.” Mistress replied.

“….You’re going to punish him?…..How?….He didn’t mean too.”

“Velvet. Your job is to control your brother in everything he does. Fail to do so and he will continue to act out irrationally. If he continues to act out irrationally he will be discarded and replaced.” She walked up to the young Rageon, her eyes glaring down at her, “Have I made myself clear?”

Velvet had no words. She just nodded. A fear came across her heart as the Mistress dismissed them…What was she going to do to him? No dinner, no food…All for protecting her. Velvet knew there would be consequences, but she never thought it would be something like this, something over a simple little thing…Like her brother protecting her. The jerk deserved that beating, he deserved every bit of it…but this…this was fame. They weren’t supposed to live their life…They needed to live the life the fans wanted, the life the fans painted for them.

Was it a mistake leaving Under Rageous? Yes it was dangerous….but they were somewhat free…

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kingofthe-egirls · 1 year

Note

Hear me out, y/n and Zoro are working out, and they like train fight together and y/n wins somehow, Zoro gets all grumpy and pouts and y/n says that they will make it up to him, and Zoro being Zoro, gets an idea, and then rest is up to you my dear writer!!

ooooooooooo ok

SPARRING ROOM: ZORO x Y/N

(cw: sword fighting, sweet self indulgent combat descriptions, minor stab wound, etc., sword language, kissing)

(a/n: so i tried to focus less on just the stage directions this time, since i've been wanting to delve more into the narration and what's going on inside reader's head. snakelike imagery as well as a lot of "S" words. sometimes it felt a lil clunky but we made it through lol)

Songs: "Ain't It Fun" by Paramore, "Sexy Villain" by Remi Wolf

words: 1.9k

"That's my girl," Zoro says, strong hand on your back as you finish up your set of push-ups (thirty second reps with fifteen second breaks between). He lets you sit up, stretching out your back.

"Thanks, Zo," you say, pushing up to standing. You take a long drink of water, drips tickling down your chin and onto your sports bra. Zoro clears his throat, and looks away. You smile.

Swordsmen are so noble.

"Wanna fight?"

Zoro scruffs his hand through his hair, pushing up to standing himself. He towers over you, a good several inches. Maybe a full foot. You knock your forehead into his chest. Headbutting is your way of showing affection, kinda like a cat.

He scruffs your hair, too, from where it's pulled back into a messy ponytail. "Sure," he says, and moves over to the side of the crow's nest where his three swords sit against the wall. You watch the ocean way below, swishing and sparkling as it laps against the Sunny.

You bend to pick up your own rapier, the silver filigree wrapping around your hand comfortably in a decorated knuckle guard. The dancing tiger that stalks its way across the sweepings guides you to victory, all the way down to the rapier's gleaming point.

You swipe it through the air, relishing the swiftness and flexibility of your sacred blade. Nightingale. She is a snakelike, hissing thing that speaks to you in whispers as she flies. You pair her with a short blade, held in your other hand with no less care.

Meadowlark.

Swordsmen are always worried about the length of their swords: the bigger the better. Typical. What they don't account for, however, is the deadliness of a shorter blade. The duck and strike, the rattlesnake bite, the venom of your speed strikes straight through their lowered guard. They always overestimate themselves, since your opponents usually have a longer reach than you. But your rapier is not alone.

She bites.

And so do you.

Swordswomen do not play fair.

You grin over at Zoro, who's checking the edges of his blades so as not to cut you. Speaking to them softly, caressing their sides and gripping their handles like a lover. His voice rumbles lowly across the glossy wooden floor, sweetly beckoning the swords to follow him, obey him, let him rule over them as he spars with his friend.

You almost hear them rattling in his hands.

Purring to your own blade, you remind her sharp edges not to bite so dangerously, but not to go too easy on him either. It's a delicate balance, talking to your swords. She whispers back seductively not to worry, that she'll swing with accuracy but not deadly force. She sighs in your hand, shivering as she readies for battle.

"Easy," you murmur to her, and she sings. Meadowlark buzzes in your hand, adding the bass to her soprano. "Ready?" You ask Zoro, swiping your sword through the air. You stalk towards him, stepping carefully across slats of glossy Adam tree.

Zoro smiles wickedly, placing his white blade between his teeth. He cherishes the handle of Wado Ichimonji as if she were sweetness itself. His sister's spirit lives inside this sword. You respect his three-sword style, and have yet to beat him in a sparring match.

Swiftly, you bow.

Zoro returns the gesture, and brandishes his two swords aloft. Wado Ichimonji gleams in the sharp florescent lighting of the crow's nest. Swiping the air, you stalk around your opponent, noting his strong biceps and flexing center. He lowers his center of gravity, bending swiftly before leaping forward to strike against your guard.

You swipe away the sharp edge of Wado Ichimonji, ducking aside as Zoro lunges forward, sword tilted in his teeth. He steps away from you, just barely, so that your swift disarming counter strikes harmlessly against Sandai Kitetsu's guard. Sparks glint off where the strong metals meet. You swipe Nightingale across his side, but he dodges. You stumble forward, slightly off balance.

"Shit."

Zoro laughs, growling around the white-wrapped handle of Wado Ichimonji. "Start again," he says, standing wide with a lowered stance. Enma gleams sharply in his strong fist. You turn, stepping around in a circle as he counters your movement across the floor.

"Stumbling is never a good sign," Zoro says, swords snickering in their triangle shape. She is making fun of you in particular: the sword singing softly in his right fist. Smirking, even. Zoro matches her sneer as he closes the distance between you in swift, even strides.

"Stop it," you whisper, tightening your grip around Nightingale's sweetly wrapped handle. She has a soft, white leather made from a doe's hide. She is a flourishing, sacred blade.

"Stop what?" Zoro asks, clashing his two swords against your rapier overhead. Sparks fly down between you, and you just barely dodge out of the way of Wado Ichimonji's strike. His three-sword style is a bitch, sometimes. Stepping back, you catch your breath.

He swings, again.

Sweet Meadowlark counters the sharp edge of Enma, screaming across the sharpened steel. You grit your teeth, bringing your dagger all the way down to the hilt of Zoro's katana.

"Not you," you hiss out through a clenched jaw. Staring at Sandai Kitetsu, you push forward even more, enough to get Zoro to stumble backward. He counters, quickly. He faints with Sandai Kitetsu, before slashing sideways at your open side. You yelp, a sharp, high-pitched noise at the back of your throat. Zoro smirks.

"Swords are makin' fun of ya?"

Snickering, the three katanas all bear down on you from overhead. He's so fast. You grunt, blocking them with rapier and dagger crossed above you. He knees you in the stomach.

"Ouch!" You scream, winded. You stumble backward, clutching at your abdomen. You spit saliva onto the floor. Zoro chuckles.

He plants both feet on the floor, standing shirtless in front of you, with nothing but his leather pants and green bellyband. You're only in a sports bra and shorts, yourself. Swiping Nightingale through the air, you sprint toward him at full speed.

Fainting with Nightingale, you strike at Zoro's blind side, before ducking quickly and jabbing Meadowlark straight into his chest.

"Shit!" You squeak, ripping your steel dagger out of Zoro's bloodied chest. You hit right between the ribs, on the side with his good eye. Blood trickles down his abs in a scarlet ribbon. You smile.

Strike One: Y/n.

But the victory tastes sweet for only so long, as Zoro bears down on you with a counterattack. You dodge out of the way, but only slightly, as Sandai Kitetsu shears off a lock of your hair.

"Fuck!" You scurry backward, a rogue at heart, meant to strike and retreat as quickly as possible. Zoro stalks forward again.

This time, he twirls Enma in one hand before striking down viciously at you with a barrage of attacks. Slashes, stabs, lunges. Swipes at your side, especially the side where you hold shorter Meadowlark.

"Shut up," you tell his sassy sword, who's been snickering at you this whole time. She chides your balance, your sword play, the way you're standing with too much weight on your left side.

She glides snakelike against your dagger, bouncing off the side. Your arm stings with the recoil. Shit. You barely keep your stance in place as you're forced to shuffle backward. Sandai Kitetsu bites your upper arm, and you hiss.

"Stop dodging," Zoro commands you, striking the wall behind you, right next to your head. "You have to fight back, or else you'll be dead." Sandai Kitetsu giggles in his hand.

You're panting, sweating with exertion. Zoro's strikes are so strong. He's stepping away from you now, giving you room to breathe. You hate when he goes easy on you. Snarling, you charge forward again.

Zoro meets you halfway, growling in his throat.

Your swords clang together harshly, metallic singing reverberating throughout the room. You both back up, stepping in tune with the other's movements. He stalks around you like a tiger, and strikes at your backside. He hits you with the flat of Sandai Kitetsu's blade.

"You're weak."

He challenges you, and you see red.

It's a spin, a stab, and a dance backwards, before your vision clears. Zoro is grimacing, another bright red stripe decorating his bare chest. It's right above his sternum, and a little to the left.

He grunts, and charges after you.

Swinging at your weak spot, Zoro brings Enma down toward your side. You block the strong, sweeping arch with the silver side of Nightingale's cross guard. She resonates with the sound of the blow.

You both hold for a second, struggling to push the other's weight off.

Eventually, you let go with a huff.

"That's enough," you decide, whipping your sword through the air with a signature flourish. Zoro nods, sheathing his own blades.

"Good job," he nods, heading back over to the side to wipe his face with a towel. He throws it into the dirty clothes hamper that one of you will eventually take down to the laundry room when it gets too full.

"Yeah, right," you seethe, jaw clenched. "I wish I was anywhere near as strong as you. I can be fast, and invasive, but...," you raise your shoulders, and let them fall with a defeated sigh. "Sheer strength-wise, you've got me beat."

Zoro shakes his head, "You're not that far behind me, actually." He sits down on the bench, elbows on his knees with a canteen in his hands. He chugs a lungful of water, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.

"Yeah?"

You sheath your swords, and start a cool-down stretch routine. You lean over to one side, and then the other. You shake your legs in their sockets, trying to loosen up your hip flexors.

Zoro nods. "Not everyone can fend off Enma." He regards you steadily, his green eye flicking you up and down. You stretch your arms over your head. "Especially with a blade that flimsy." He smirks at your rapier, and you huff.

"She is not flimsy." You cross your arms, nose in the air. Nightingale hums in agreement at your side. Zoro sneers a laugh.

"Plus, you can understand sword language better than any other swordsman I've met. Not even Mihawk can hear his sword so well."

At that, you pause.

Your fingers flutter around Nightengale's hilt, and you grin. "Thanks, Zoro. That means a lot."

His face flushes, and he looks away.

"Well, yeah...," he says, gruff, before pushing off the bench to make his way over to you. He skims his knuckles over the outside of your arm. His fingertips dance along the diamond pommel of your sacred blade, and you gasp. He arches an eyebrow. "Feel that?"

You nod, stunned.

"That's the bond between a swordsman and his blade."

"Her blade," you correct, and he snorts.

"Rematch after dinner?" He pulls away, and leaves you aching. You stumble after him, a step or two. He turns, pausing, with his lips parted. Your swords are clattering at your side. He looks you up and down, a question paused in his mouth that you can't quite read.

"Kiss me?"

Zoro blanches, and for a moment you're stuttering, shocked at your own bravery, boldness, yours and his swords are all clamoring to be heard above the din of blood rushing in your ears, and--

Zoro cocks his head, smirking, and closes the distance between you.

He takes both your arms in his hands, holding you by the shoulders, and leans forward to place a kiss on your waiting lips.

"How's that?"

You smile like a little kid. "Perfect," you say, before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in to deepen the kiss.

You can't wait for the rematch.

#this is so hard #sword fights #hard to describe #zoro #zoro x you #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro fanfic #one piece fanfic #zoro fluff #dumpster dive #kitty writes

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teenagerebellion · 5 months

Note

In canon we have a good idea of what Aelwyn thinks about Adaine and also Fabian, so let me ask you, what do you think Aelwyn thinks of the other bad kids?

oh this is such a good question…! i think they’re very peripheral to her, important pretty much only in that they’re important to adaine, for a while, especially because she doesn’t really interact with any of them until junior year.

i think she’s a little freaked out by riz honestly 😭 from what i can remember her primary memory of him is him trying to steal the bottle of poison from her during the house party in freshman year, and it’s a hard cut from that little goblin boy to the tattooed, somehow more intense, gun wielding, avenging agent of heaven riz that she’s confronted with at the end of sophomore year. she mostly stays out of his way, doesn’t speak to him directly, and does her best to ignore how his eyes are following her whenever they’re in a room together.

she’s unhappily impressed by fig. fig is just such a cool girl in a way that would have been threatening to an earlier aelwyn - if she had known fig better in fhfy, she definitely would have been snobby/talked down to her bc of that threatened feeling. but getting to know her in junior year, all aelwyn can see is how genuinely sincere fig is, and how that her coolness isn’t a persona she puts on but something born of her kindness and loyalty. and that realization rocks aelwyn to her core a little bit -> so antithetical to how she was raised. so the main outcome there is begrudgingly impressed - i think she and fig are friendly, but fig’s still a bit suspicious of her and aelwyn’s unwilling to be any measure of vulnerable with someone who isn’t adaine.

i don’t think aelwyn thinks anything of gorgug at all LOL. there’s nothing there that would cause her to take a huge interest. i think at first she might think of him as a “ragh 2.0” in that he seems dumb and easy to manipulate, but being around him a bit more rids her of that idea. she just knows him as quiet and doesn’t think there’s too much under the surface beyond that - she’s not close enough to him to see the angry, witty, incredibly smart gorgug that the bad kids see.

and kristen! kristen confuses aelwyn more than anything. her impulsiveness and silliness and bluntness and deep devotion would all normally make aelwyn look down on her, and sometimes she still does in the moment. but the first time aelwyn properly interacted with kristen, in fhsy, kristen had literally just come back from the dead and then uncorrupted the nightmare king to cassandra. like aelwyn’s first true impression of kristen is that she’s an incredibly powerful cleric, and then every impression after that is of a bumbling silly girl who makes the wildest decisions ever. so it’s a mixed bag there 😭 at a baseline aelwyn respects kristen’s abilities but on a much more daily basis she thinks kristen’s unsophisticated and a bit of an idiot. but in a fun way! i really liked them trading banter in one of the more recent junior year episodes & i think that’s how their relationship would progress. i think aelwyn would try the most to form an actual relationship with kristen, because she appreciates her trying to meet her halfway.

#.txt #.ask #thanks for the ask! this one got a bit long too 😭#fhjy #fantasy high junior year #d20 fhjy #aelwyn abernant #riz gukgak #kristen applebees #fig faeth #gorgug thistlespring

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parad-ice-lostandfound · 8 months

Note

omg we're mutuals??? i'm flattered honestly since my only other moot (do people say that?) is my rp partner/bestie so i feel like that doesn't really count. so like, i've never done a request before, and i never get requests (defo not sulking abt that lol) but can i maybe get some ace content? i have no idea why i like him so much honestly since he's a lil shit (affectionate), but i do and i have to live with it now. i'm terrible at coming up with shorter prompt ideas, which is probably why i've never requested from anyone before, so sorry that this is so vague. i give you creative license to write whatever you want, just no angst plz. is it weird for a self-proclaimed angst writer to specifically not want angst for their requests? i dunno. feel free to delete this if it's not what you're feeling at the time or i've somehow violated your rules, which i did read. sorry, i talk way too much.

AN: Hi! Don't worry about talking too much, I enjoyed reading it! And I agree, Ace is a little shit, but he's also very cute and occupies space in my brain without paying rent :(

Jokes aside, I hope you like this just as much as I liked writing it! May we never be cured of the loving Ace disease <3

Prompt: can i maybe get some ace content? i have no idea why i like him so much honestly since he's a lil shit (affectionate), but i do and i have to live with it now.

Pairing: Ace Trappola x GN!Reader/Prefect/Yuu

Genre: Fluff

TW: NA

Ace was a menace.

A menace of the highest degree, whose sole purpose in life sometimes seemed to be making you burst a vein with irritation.

A menace who was holding out a bouquet of roses for you, trying to act nonchalant even as his cheeks were tinted a soft red. His eyes were hidden by his sunglasses, but you had no doubt that they were focused on you and your reaction.

"What's this?" You hummed, taking the bouquet and cradling it in your arms. For something that looked so elegant and dainty it sure was heavy, and you were wondering how long Ace had stood outside Ramshackle with them before finally ringing the bell.

Ace cleared his throat, breaking you out of your reverie. He looked effortlessly stylish in everything he wore, but it seemed like he had taken special care with his appearance for today. If he'd given you a warning, maybe you'd have changed into something nicer than your pajamas...

"I, um, I came here to ask you something," he said, voice somber as if he was going to give you bad news. 'But who gives bad news with a bouquet of roses?' You thought to yourself, pushing down the part of you that was ready to overthink the smallest of incidents. You nodded to him to continue.

"Will... uh, will you be m-my Valentine this year?" He trailed off at the end of his sentence, voice breaking slightly. You blinked.

"Your Valentine?"

Ace made a face of indignation at your question. "Oh no, I was actually speaking on behalf of Deuce. Look, there he is, right where you left your last braincell," he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Are you trying to make me say no?" You asked, narrowing your eyes at him. Shifting the bouquet to one hand, you acted as if you were going to close the door with him still outside. Not that you actually would, but it was still fun to see his eyes widen comically at your action, hand shooting out to stall for time.

"Wait, no that– don't take everything so seriously," he whined, holding the door to stop you from shutting it in his face. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, letting go of the door but turning and making your way inside. With your back turned to him, you smiled.

"Come in and help me find a vase for these roses," you said, and Ace followed you obediently, refraining from making any other sarcastic remarks that would have him stand outside the house as though he were in timeout for misbehaving.

Once you found a vase big enough to hold all the roses, you filled it with water. As you placed the flowers in it, you felt two strong arms circling your waist and a weight settling on your shoulder.

"So... be my valentine?" He asked again, voice slightly muffled against your shoulder.

"Give me one good reason to be your valentine," you hummed, not relenting even as Ace whined about you being unfair to him, he got you roses, how could you be so cruel—

Every indignant rise and fall of his voice had the smile on your lips growing and the urge to burst out laughing increasing. You bit your lip to stifle your amusement, but he caught it anyways.

"You little– you were trying to make me beg for it, huh?" He accused you, voice playful as he poked your sides. A peal of laughter left you as you tried to dodge his pokes, your hands swatting at his.

"Stop it!"

"Not until you say yes!"

Breaking free from his hold, you ran to the living room, your giggles filling the air as Ace followed, hot on your trail. You were fast, but Ace was faster, and you blamed hisbeing a member of the basketball club for him managing to foil all your attempts at getting away.

Pinned under him on the couch, you squirmed as he continued tickling you. Laughter left you both breathless and red in the face, and you wheezed when Ace decided to flop on top of you, his weight pressing your body down against the couch.

You hit him lightly at his shoulder. "Get off, you're heavy!"

"Nope. That's what you get for being a brat and trying to make me beg for you to be my valentine when you and I both know your answer'd be yes."

You stuck your tongue out at him, and he mirrored your actions, before he made himself comfortable against you and settled against your chest.

#twisted wonderland #twst #ice writes #its ace loving hours #also hi new moot!!#ice's moots #twisted wonderland ace #ace twisted wonderland #ace trappola x reader #ace trappola #twst ace #ace twst #ace x reader #gn!reader

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usermakki · 2 years

Text

· ₊ ⊹ · ₊ ⊹ · ᴀᴠᴀᴛᴀʀ ᴍᴇɴ + ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ & ʀᴇᴀꜱꜱᴜʀᴀɴᴄᴇ ;

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ; neteyam, lo’ak, tsu’tey, jake, ao’nung, rotxo x reader

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ; mentions of insecurities + depressive bouts/mood, hurt/comfort, fluff, bad coping mechanisms, established relationship, na'vi!reader, human!reader, dreamwalker!jake, lowercase intended, and i think that’s it

ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ; pov by ariana grande

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ ; first of all, i've reached 200+ followers and this is my thank you gift for each and every one of you! thank you so much, for liking and keeping up with my content!! on another note, this post was completely unscripted, an anon sent me an ask regarding this theme and i just went apeshit lol. to that anon, you're the best <3

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

・・・・・・ ɴᴇᴛᴇʏᴀᴍ

﹒ɞ comfort it doesn't take much for neteyam to pick up on your gloomy mood. he's well acquaintanced with your coping tendencies and is quick to pick up when you start closing off to deal with your insecurities. he notices all the telling signs—how you keep hugging yourself, trying to appear smaller, the constant change to your appearance, straying away from crowds and even going so far as to avoid him. your absence being the biggest giveaway, considering that he's so used to having you near. and the moment you start to stray off, he's hot in your trail. whatever your response is, neteyam has no problem accommodating you. he can hug you as you cry yourself to sleep, stroke your hair, sit by your side, and listen to you rant for hours, if you wish for him to stay. if you're the type of person who deals with things on your own, he'll make sure to take care of you from afar; leaving sliced fruits by your bed for when you wake up, leading any loud and nosy person away from your safe space, putting your medicine within your reach. even if the sight of your suffering becomes unbearable, he'll still give you all the space you need until you're ready to be approached.

﹒ɞ reassurance "hey, what does that matter anyway? you're the prettiest person in my eyes." neteyam will try to reassure you in all the ways he knows how; complimenting your new hairstyle, respectfully showing you off to his friends and the elders, partaking in whatever palliative hobbies you enjoy and even taking the time out of his busy day to check up on you from time to time. “my eyes have never strayed from you since the day i met you, my star. nothing that you say will make me love you any less.” he's willing to do anything to ensure your well-being. “i’ll even let you play with my tail. ouch! just don’t pull it.”

ㅤ

・・・・・・ ʟᴏ’ᴀᴋ

﹒ɞ comfort for someone who spends most of his free time crowding you and dragging you in multiple different directions, in search of a new feat that will somehow end in him, or both of you in trouble, you'd think that lo'ak would be quicker to notice your disheartening state. perhaps sometimes it might take you approaching him to vent for him to notice, but that doesn't mean he's not attentive to your humor changes. he is perceptive, only a bit slow on cognizance. nevertheless, lo'ak takes a very straightforward approach, not very talkative, as he relies heavily on actions to do the talking. the moment he realizes you falling behind your friend group, your gaze lost in the distance, not participating in the conversations and, the most significatory indicator of your mood in his eyes, making degrading comments and jokes at your own expanse, he excuses you both from where you are and takes you some place you can let it all out without the concern of prying eyes. lo'ak will let you scream and cry it out for as long as you need. he'll stand to the side, occasionally offering praises and witty remarks, as you manage your dejection in whatever way you wish. lo'ak might not know the right words to comfort you with, but he won't ever let you go through it on your own. plus, he might get a good laugh out of you, and that's a great win on his book.

﹒ɞ reassurance “come on, i’ll show you something cool.” does a race, tug of war, or any physically demanding activity to release a bunch of chemicals sounds appealing to you? then he's your guy. “you’re the coolest, most intelligent person i know. if there’s someone who can do this, it’s you.” not to say he won't offer you a few words of consolation, on the contrary, they might sound clumsy and not very effective, but if you look past that, you'll still find comfort in lo'ak either way. “you’re always teaching me things, and if you can get me to understand simple concepts, you can do anything.”

ㅤ

・・・・・・ ᴛꜱᴜ’ᴛᴇʏ

﹒ɞ comfort tsu'tey is another one who's very in tune with your humor changes. he can tell straight away when your mood shifts, there's no way to hide it with this one. he takes notice of you side-stepping around the village, keeping less time in the training grounds with him and more time around the scientists in the biolab. at first, he lets it fester, respecting your space and expecting you to come to him first because despite recognizing the signals, he's fairly awkward to approach you on this matter. but your attitudes get more drastic as the days pass; initially, you're merely keeping to yourself during social gatherings, only talking when spoken to, head low and eyes downcast, but then you stop showing up altogether. and tsu'tey still sees glimpses of you, skirting around the edges of the forest, avoiding him, it seems. tsu'tey doesn't let it drag any longer, he ambushes you before you can hide away, and takes you to the clearing you regularly spend your time together. despite wanting to force any kind of information out of you, he takes the easier approach and gently coaxes you into speaking up, mindful not to sound too harsh or eager. if you still won't budge, he'll suggest some ways to blow off your steam, offer to spar, or come along in an invigorating banshee flight, but he won't dare make this moment about himself. tsu'tey won't let you wallow in your misery for long.

﹒ɞ reassurance “hey, you’ve been doing well, and you’ve come far. i’m proud of you.” depending on what stage of your relationship you are with him, tsu'tey might vary between a constipated and gentle approach. but either way, he'll make sure to advise you to the best of his capabilities. “i won’t let anything happen to you, you’re safe here with me.” you might even be able to pull some praise out of him if you play your cards right. “you’ve shown me what true strength is. your character is unlike anyone i’ve known.”

ㅤ

・・・・・・ ᴊᴀᴋᴇ

﹒ɞ comfort life as a human on pandora isn't easy, and jake recognizes that, so it's no surprise to you when he detects your depressing mood. you can try to mask it; by keeping up with your friends' quips and shenanigans, picking up different hobbies and activities to throw them off the fact you've been locking yourself away in your bunker for hours, and avoiding any talk concerning your mental and physical health. but jake is perceptive, that's one of the many things you grew to love and hate about him, try all you might, but you can't get him off your trail once he picks up on something shady. he starts by approaching you separately from everyone else, having more one-on-ones with you, then he switches to keeping you company during all of your meals, and he doesn't leave until he can see the bottom of your plate. jake makes sure to always be on standby if you ever need a shoulder to cry on or an ear to vent into, and he'll tell you that much, he just slips those words inconspicuously during one of your talks, and he makes it sound so easy that you just give in. do you need him to beat the disrespect out of someone? or to cuddle you until you fall asleep? no need to tell him twice, all you've got to do is ask. and he'll keep you company even after all it's said and done, as a reminder that he's there and he doesn't plan on going anywhere. he's just in reach for whenever you need him.

﹒ɞ reassurance “breath in, just like that. you’re doing great, sweetheart.” don't be embarrassed about crying, he won't mind the snot and the tears on the shoulder of his shirt. as long as you're managing your emotions, he's content with whatever you are content with. “don’t say that. you’re not alone, ‘cause you have me.” you'll notice that he has a very good way with his words that might not seem in character to him, but that might just be because he really likes you. “and i’ll be here for you, always. whatever it is.”

ㅤ

・・・・・・ ᴀᴏ’ɴᴜɴɢ

﹒ɞ comfort despite being distant from most of the people in his clan, ao'nung still cares. and it's because of that, that he makes sure to keep an eye out for you in case you ever need his assistance. he's very heedful to your physical needs, but not so much about your mental state, so it might take a moment for him to pick up on it. he won't know how to deal with your low spirits at first, choosing to instruct tsireya or some of your friends into seeking you out and trying to get you to spill the roots of your problems. he might even send his mother to counsel you, in a last, desperate resort. for a while, ao'nung only watches as you drag your feet around, stares off into space while everyone around you laughs, skips communal meals to eat by yourself inside your marui, comes back empty-handed from your hunts and with your mood even worse. but he can only take so much of it, and his final stroke is catching you crying alone after returning from patrol. ao'nung will try to help you as best he can, but there are only so many words he can muster before he decides on a more physical approach. he'll sit alongside you and listen as you pour your heart out, hug your shoulders and nuzzle your head and kiss you in all the places he can reach. you'll notice that he will be softer and pliable with you for days after, and it's your chance to get many things out of him, be it more cuddles, more pampering, or whatever, he won't hold it against you.

﹒ɞ reassurance “next time this happens, come to me. let me help you.” ao'nung will not hesitate to reach out to his mother and sister on the best ways to care for you. and fret not, he will make sure that you're comfortable and secure with him. “you’re not a burden. all that matters to me is if you’re well.” he'll learn to handle you with care when you're at your most fragile so that you can keep relying on him ever after that. “i’ll take over your duties for tomorrow and the day after. now rest, please.”

ㅤ

・・・・・・ ʀᴏᴛxᴏ

﹒ɞ comfort rotxo is swift on picking up on your somber state as well, as expected from someone who spends so much of his time observing you from up close and from afar. it's second nature for him to always look for you in a crowd, to seek you out in his free time-you are his favorite person after all. so when he realizes that you're absent during outings, meals and hunts, he doesn't waste time in reaching out to you, in hopes of understanding the circumstances of your withdrawal. and he's so sweet about it, not rushing you into accepting his presence or his questioning. he respects your time and your state of mind, the last thing he wishes is for you to slip further away from his reach. rotxo will offer you some closure, and then let you come to him of your own accord. he'll give you time to choose your words and find your stepping, and when you come to him, he'll let you crawl into his lap for solace, and dry your tears as you share some of your burdens with him. he contemplates for some time on the best ways to help, and he'll start by bringing you out to get some air and soak in the sun, then he'll prepare you some food and advise you on a course of action. but he won't let you deal with it on your own, oh no, rotxo will make it clear that your burdens are now his to carry and that you'll resolve it together. you can hold his hand as tight as you want, he doesn't plan on letting go of you any time soon.

﹒ɞ reassurance “just hold my hand. don’t think about anything else.” you won't ever have to be scared again, of facing someone, or of dealing with any consequences, because rotxo will be there with you to make sure that everything will go smoothly for you. “i'll do it, you just stay there and relax. i’ve got you.” and if you can't bring yourself to do it? it’s alright, he is more than happy to handle it for you from now on. “i’ll fix it. it’s no problem.”

(hopefully, tumblr won't eat rotxo's part again..)

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