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warabidakihime · 4 months ago

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Rules and Roses Chapter 6

★ characters: kibutsuji muzan x reader x akaza

★ plot summary: Kibutsuji Muzan has finally decided to expand his empire, and the way he intends to do so is by running for the highest political position. With you, his darling wife, at his side, he believes he can achieve and have everything the world has to offer. He is, after all, the Phoenix of Phario.

★ fic playlist: sometimes, same day, as time stops, wolf’s song (this is also the vision board for the fic).

★ content warnings : implied violence, self-harm and abuse, profanities, toxic relationships, smut.

★ Previous Chapter

a/n: heya! things are finally picking up and it will only go up from here and then BAM! i wasn't able to update last weekend because i wasn't doing great mentally and i was also pretty tired because of work, and so i just focused on resting last weekend. but voila! a new chapter for y'all! i've not proofread this yet, so apologies if there are any typos or parts that confuses you. will fix those tomorrow morning.

i sincerely hope you've been enjoying this fic and i really would like to hear your thoughts so don't be shy and leave a comment or two! you have no idea how much your comments inspire me to write.

anyway! enjoy reading!

Year 2016

A vast, icy expanse stretches before the camera. The crowd's excited murmurs gradually build into a roaring applause as a spotlight illuminates the center of the ice.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are on the edge of our seats as we welcome back the phenomenal Y/N! The reigning champion, the undisputed queen of the ice, is about to grace us with her artistry once more,” the commentator exclaimed to the mic.

You glide onto the ice; your every movement, fluid and effortless, as if you're dancing on air. Your breath, visible in the cold, adds a touch of ethereal beauty to your performance.

“There she is! The moment we've all been waiting for! The crowd is on their feet, their eyes glued to every twist and turn. Her posture is impeccable, and her lines are clean and sharp. This is what true elegance looks like!”

The commentator continued, his voice filled with excitement and passion.

As you progress through your routine, the music swells, mirroring the intensity of your performance. You execute a series of complex jumps with astonishing ease, landing each one with precision and grace.

“And there it is! A triple axel, executed to perfection! The crowd is in awe. This woman is on a different level. Her speed, her power, her control—it's simply breathtaking. Watch as she transitions into a spin; look at that speed and the way she controls her body. It's like she's defying gravity itself!"

You transition into a series of spins, giving your body a blur of color and movement. The commentator’s voice becomes more animated.

“Unbelievable! She's a ballerina on ice! The way she blends strength and delicacy is simply mesmerizing. And did you catch that change of direction? From a Biellmann spin to a layback spin in mere seconds? It's like she's speaking a different language on the ice. A language only the greatest can understand.”

As you approach the end of your routine, the music crescendos, and you unleash a final burst of energy. Your emotions are raw, and your movements are filled with passion.

“She's pouring her heart and soul into this performance! The crowd is on its feet, cheering and applauding. This is a moment that will be remembered for years to come. And can we talk about the flexibility? Those splits, those extensions! She's not just an ice skater; she's a gymnast on ice! A complete show stopper!”

The commentator exclaimed, his voice filled with awe.

A tear escapes your eye as you finish your routine, and you drop to the ice in a deep bow.

The crowd erupts in a standing ovation.

“A performance that transcends the boundaries of sport. Ice Queen Y/N has once again proven why she is the greatest ice skater of her generation. And speaking of greatness, this woman has it all. Talent, beauty, grace, and, let's not forget, a heart of gold. They say behind every successful woman is a great man, and this woman's boyfriend is definitely one to watch. Though we can't confirm anything, rumors have it that he's a rising star in the business world,” the commentator said, adding a touch of intrigue to his commentary.

You skate slowly towards the edge of the ice, your breath coming in short gasps. The crowd’s cheers and applause gradually subside as you approach your coach.

“And there she goes, skating towards her coach. A moment of pure relief and exhaustion. The pressure is off, and she can finally let go. This is a moment of truth, a moment of waiting. The scores will determine her fate. Let’s hope she’s brought her A-game today, but this is Y/N we're talking about; she's always on her A-game!”

The camera cuts to the judges’ table as they begin their deliberation. The crowd holds their breath, their eyes glued to the screen.

After what feels like an eternity, the announcer steps up to the microphone.

“And the gold medal goes to... Y/N with a final score of 250.34 , a whopping 12.78 points ahead of her closest competitor! This not only secures her gold medal but also breaks her own world record, a record she has held for years! This is a historic moment, ladies and gentlemen!”

The announcer proclaimed, as the crowd erupts into a frenzy of cheers and applause.

The camera returns to you as you cover your face with your hands, tears of joy streaming down your cheeks. Your coach gave you a fatherly hug, obviously proud of the feat you have achieved. Your family and friends were screaming at the top of their lungs, trying their best to convey their support for you. Meanwhile, the crowd continues to cheer as confetti falls from the ceiling.

You raise your arms in victory, a radiant smile on your face.

The physical therapy room was a familiar purgatory. The sterile white walls and the metallic gleam of the equipment were a constant reminder of your limitations. Once a sanctuary of grace and athleticism, it had become a battleground for recovery.

You moved through the routine with mechanical precision, your movements devoid of the once-fluid grace. Your breath came in short, labored gasps as you pushed your body to its limits. The pain was a constant companion, a dull ache that pulsed through your leg. Yet you persevered, driven by a stubborn determination.

Akaza watched from the corner, his eyes following your every move. His expression was a mask of indifference, but his posture spoke a different story. Tension rippled through his muscles as he observed your struggle.

Finally, exhausted but determined, you collapsed onto the mat, sweat beading on your forehead. Your body ached, but there was a sense of satisfaction in pushing through the pain.

The doctor entered, his footsteps echoing in the quiet room. He carried a clipboard, and his expression was serious.

"How are you feeling today, Y/N?" he asked, his voice gentle.

You managed a weak smile. "Tired, but okay."

The doctor nodded, his eyes scanning your form. "The progress is steady. Your strength is improving, and the range of motion in your leg is expanding."

A flicker of hope ignited in your chest. "Does that mean I can start... doing more?"

The doctor hesitated, his expression turning somber.

"There is good news and bad news."

Your heart sank. "Tell me the bad news first."

"The bad news is, the full range of motion you once had is unlikely to return. The scar tissue and the nature of your injury have created limitations. While you can walk and perform daily activities without significant discomfort, activities that require sudden bursts of speed, agility, or excessive weight-bearing are still risky."

A wave of disappointment washed over you. You had never entertained the thought of returning to competitive skating. That chapter of your life was firmly closed. But the idea of never being able to skate again, even for leisure, was definitely a bitter pill to swallow.

"I understand," you managed to say, your voice barely a whisper.

"But," the doctor continued, his voice softening, "the good news is that you've exceeded expectations in your recovery. You're stronger than most people in your situation. With continued therapy and careful management, you can lead a normal, active life."

A normal life.

The word echoed in your mind.

A far cry from the extraordinary life you once lived.

"But remember, and I mean this in all seriousness, there are certain activities you should avoid," the doctor warned. "High-impact sports, for instance, are out of the question, and you need to be cautious about putting too much pressure on your leg."

You nodded, trying to absorb the information. The weight of disappointment was heavy on your shoulders.

"But I also want you to remember," the doctor added, "every day is a step forward, and you've come such a long way, Y/N. So you should be proud of your progress."

You forced a smile. "I am."

As the doctor left the room, you turned to Akaza. His eyes met yours, and in that brief moment, you saw a flicker of something in his gaze—a mixture of pity and something else, something you can quite pinpoint. You decided to dismiss it, attributing it to your overactive imagination.

Akaza approached you, his hand reaching out to offer support. "You're stronger than you think," he said, his voice low and comforting.

You took his hand, grateful for his presence. "I know," you replied, your voice trembling slightly.

Akaza studied your face; his eyes were filled with a strange intensity. "I've seen stronger people break," he said, his voice barely audible. "But you... you're different."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his rather cryptic statement. "Oh?"

Akaza hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. "Some people," he began, his voice low, "are defined by limitations. Others... they find a way to transcend them."

You didn't know what to make of his cryptic statement.

You simply nodded, grateful for his support.

Akaza chuckled, breaking the tension. “You’re too serious,” he teased. “Come on, let’s get you out of here. You look like you could use a break.”

You smiled, and the weight of the world momentarily lifted.

“Alright, let’s go.”

As he helped you up, he studied your face, his expression turning serious again. “You’re doing well,” he said softly. “Like what the doctor told you, you’re way stronger than you think.”

You nodded, grateful for his support. As you walked out of the physical therapy room, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. The road to recovery was indeed long, but you persevered and made incredible progress.

And as long as you have your friends and family, Muzan, and, believe it or not, people like Akaza by your side, you knew you would eventually find your way back.

Several Years Ago at the Winter Olympics 2018

The ice was your stage, a crystalline expanse where you could lose yourself. Muzan, your fiancé, watched from the stands, his eyes filled with adoration. The crowd roared as you took your final bow, the applause a symphony of admiration. You were in your element, a whirlwind of grace and power.

But then disaster struck.

It happened in an instant—a cruel twist of fate.

As you landed a triple lutz, your skate blade, despite multiple quality checks, betrayed you. It snapped, sending you into an uncontrolled spin. Your body, once so graceful, became a helpless projectile. You felt the ice scrape against your skin as you tumbled, the world a blur of pain and fear.

Muzan watched in horror as you fell. Time seemed to freeze as your body crashed into the ice. A sharp intake of breath escaped his lips. His world narrowed down to you, a blur of white on the unforgiving ice.

Fear, cold and sharp, clawed at his insides.

He leaped over the barrier, his movements a blur. Kneeling beside you, he assessed the damage. Your face was pale, and your eyes closed. A deep gash marred your leg, with blood seeping through the fabric of your costume. His hands trembled as he cradled your head. His voice, usually so calm and commanding, was now a frantic whisper.

"Darling, please wake up," he begged, his voice filled with terror.

"Open your eyes, please, Y/N!"

Panic surged through him as he realized the severity of your injury. The once pristine white of his suit was now marred by the crimson stain of your blood, a stark contrast to the pristine white of the ice.

His voice rose, filled with a desperate urgency.

"Someone help! Get an ambulance! Fucking do something, now!" he shouted, his eyes wide with fear and seething anger.

He frantically searched for a button or a lever—anything to call for help. The crowd's noise seemed to muffle, as if he were underwater.

He scooped you up into his arms, your weight heavy in his arms. The crowd's gasps and cries were a distant echo as he carried you off the ice. His mind raced, a whirlwind of fear and desperation. He had to get you help, and he had to get you help now.

In the ambulance, Muzan held you close, his touch a desperate attempt to reassure you and to reassure himself that this too shall pass, but the metallic smell of your blood, your pale skin, and the way your body trembled in his arms filled him with a cold dread, as did the horrific way you would slip in and out of consciousness.

The days that followed were a blur of pain, surgeries, and endless nights in the hospital. You woke up to find yourself encased in a plaster cast, the once lithe body you knew confined to a hospital bed. The news of your injury sent shockwaves through the world, leaving your fans devastated by the abrupt end to your glittering career.

The doctors were blunt in their assessment. Your career as an ice skater was over. The extent of your injuries, combined with the long recovery process, meant that you would never be able to return to the ice. The news was a devastating blow, and it took a long time to come to terms with it.

Muzan was by your side through it all; his unrelenting and passionate support was a constant in your life. He held your hand through the painful procedures, his presence a comforting anchor.

But the emotional turmoil was immense. The loss of your identity as a skater was a profound shock. The physical pain was a constant reminder of what you had lost, but the emotional pain was even more debilitating. You questioned your worth and your identity.

There were even moments when the darkness consumed you, when the thought of ending it all seemed like the only escape.

But despite everything, you managed to hold on and cling to the hope that things would get better.

And frankly speaking, Muzan didn't let you succumb to despair. He did his very best to show his support for you and his faith in you, and with the help of dedicated therapists, you slowly began to rebuild your life.

It was a long and arduous journey, filled with SO many setbacks and triumphs, but you were able to emerge from the shadows stronger and more resilient than ever before.

The car ride home was heavy with silence. You stared out the window, lost in thought. The physical therapy session had been grueling, but it was also a stark reminder of what you had lost. A sudden impulse surged through you.

"Akaza, make a detour," you ordered, your voice firm.

Akaza was startled by your sudden demand. “Where to?” he asked, his voice laced with caution.

“The ice rink,” you replied, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Akaza hesitated, his mind racing. He knew better than anyone the risks involved. The doctor's warnings echoed in his mind. Yet, he couldn't ignore the determination in your eyes.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. "The doctor said..."

You cut him off.

"I know, Akaza. And I don't care, so please."

He sighed. He knew arguing with you was futile. With a heavy heart, he turned the steering wheel.

The ice rink was eerily quiet.

The once-vibrant atmosphere was replaced by an eerie stillness. You slipped into your skates, a familiar weight returning to your feet. As you stepped onto the ice, a wave of nostalgia washed over you.

It was here that you had spent countless hours honing your craft, dreaming of standing on the Olympic podium.

Akaza watched from the sidelines, his heart pounding in his chest. He was a mixture of worry and admiration. You were a force of nature, but he couldn’t shake the fear that lurked in the back of his mind.

You began to glide, your movements tentative at first. But as you gained confidence, your body seemed to remember the familiar motions. You started to hum the melody of your short program, your movements following the rhythm. It was as if you were reliving a distant memory—a ghost of your former self.

Akaza watched in awe as you executed a series of spins and jumps with surprising ease. It was as if the years of physical therapy had erased the trauma of the accident. But as you attempted a particularly challenging move, your body betrayed you. Fear crept in, and your balance faltered.

You landed with a painful thud, your knees buckling.

Tears streamed down your face as the pain shot through your leg. The physical agony was a stark reminder of your limitations, but it was the emotional pain that truly consumed you. The floodgates of memories opened, overwhelming you. The taste of victory, the roar of the crowd, the thrill of competition—all of it came rushing back, only to be replaced by the bitter reality of your present situation.

You curled up into a ball, your body trembling.

Struggling to tune out the pounding of his heart, Akaza hesitated to rush to your side, and when he was about to, Muzan's voice echoed across the empty ice rink, firm yet still laced with concern.

"What do you think you're doing?"

You looked up; pain and confusion were painted on your face. Muzan knelt beside you, his eyes filled with worry.

"I thought I could do it," you whispered, your voice trembling.

Muzan’s expression hardened. "You could've seriously gotten hurt! And you!" Your husband shot Akaza a glare, his temper flaring uncontrollably.

"What were you thinking, letting this happen? Your job is to keep her safe, and you failed miserably! Do you have any idea how irresponsible this was?!"

Akaza bowed in apology, his face pale. "I'm sorry, sir. I did everything I could—"

Before Akaza could finish, Muzan took a step forward, his fist clenched. "Everything you could? Everything you could?! You're supposed to be her bodyguard, not some useless bystander! Do you even care about her safety? Or are you just pretending to do your job?!"

Akaza flinched, taking a step back. "Sir, please, I—"

Muzan raised his hand as if to strike, his face contorted with rage. "Don't you 'sir' me! If anything happens to her, it's on you! Do you understand that? It's on your head, you worthless—"

"Muzan, stop!" you interjected, your voice firm despite the pain.

"Don't blame Akaza. He did the best he could. I was the one who was stubborn."

Muzan paused, his raised hand trembling, before he slowly lowered it, his eyes still burning with anger. He turned back to you, his frustration now mixed with deep concern.

"All those months of therapy, Y/N. All the pain you’ve endured, thrown out the window just like that? What were you thinking?"

You lowered your gaze, feeling a wave of shame wash over you. Muzan’s words cut deep, but you knew he was right.

Upon seeing you shrink when he raised his voice at you, Muzan’s expression softened immediately.

He sighed heavily.

"You do understand where I am coming from right?" he said as gently as he could. "I completely empathize with you, Y/N; and just like you, I also miss you performing on ice, but you can’t ignore the doctor’s orders. You know how fragile your recovery is. What if you got seriously hurt again?"

You looked away, your heart aching.

"I just miss it," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "I thought I should give it a try, then maybe... I could get a feel of it again. Maybe a miracle would happen." You trailed off, unsure of where the thought was leading you.

Muzan’s eyes softened as he watched your tears fall. He reached out, gently lifting your chin so your eyes met his. "Love, I understand the longing; I really do. But we can't rush these things. Your body still needs time to heal."

And then Muzan’s grip tightened around your hand. His voice, stained with pain and frustration.

"Do you have any idea how terrified I was when I saw you lying there on the ice? How many sleepless nights I've endured, haunted by the image of your lifeless body? You risked everything just now—your life, your future, and for what? For a fleeting moment of glory? For old times sake? For a stupid, careless stunt? Do you understand the gravity of your actions?"

Your heart pounded in your chest.

Guilt eating at you by the second.

Muzan rarely raised his voice at you, but when he did, it sent shivers down your spine. At this very moment, you knew he was angry, but you also knew he was speaking from a place of deep love and concern.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice trembling.

Muzan’s expression shifted from frustration to sorrow, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You don't need to apologize, love. I'm just... I can't bear the thought of losing you."

Suddenly, the memory of that dreadful day started playing in his head like a slideshow—the sight of you lying motionless on the ice, the panic in the ambulance, the sleepless nights by your hospital bed. He groaned, his grip on your hand tightening involuntarily as the trauma washed over him again. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to banish the haunting images.

"Seeing you in pain, feeling helpless... it tore me apart," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "I remember every second of that day, and it still feels like a nightmare I can't wake up from."

Drowning in shame and guilt, all you could ever say at that moment was, "I'm sorry."

He opened his eyes and looked at you, his expression softening as he saw the concern in your eyes. "I know, love. But please, let's not do this again." He paused, his gaze unrelenting.

"I know how much skating means to you, and I promise we'll find a way to bring back the joy of skating into your life. But for now, let's focus on healing."

Akaza nodded in agreement. You looked at them both, feeling a mix of disappointment and understanding. "But the doctor said..."

Muzan interrupted gently, "I know what the doctor said, my love. And I respect his opinion. But I won't let that be the final word. We'll explore every option, every specialist, every clinic. We won't stop until we find a way for you to skate again."

Hope flickered in your eyes. "You mean it?"

Muzan nodded resolutely.

"I mean it with all my heart, love. You've dedicated so many years to this already, and I know how much it means to you. But for now, let's focus on healing your body and your spirit. We'll find a way to bring back the joy of skating into your life, I promise. But let's not rush it, okay? Your well-being is my top priority. It should be your priority too."

Eventually, you yielded, but before you could get a word out in response to what your husband just said, tears came falling down your face profusely, and the sight pained both Muzan and Akaza so much.

It was so hard seeing you like this.

Muzan gently pulled you into his arms, his embrace warm and protective. He whispered soothing words into your ear, his voice a calming balm to your frayed nerves. "Shhh, it's okay, my love. Let it all out. I'm here for you."

Akaza, who was standing nearby, looked away, giving you and Muzan a moment of privacy. He clenched his fists, his own emotions—a tumultuous mix of anger at the situation and a deep, abiding concern for you.

Muzan brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender.

"You've been so strong, Y/N. It's okay to feel what you're feeling. It's okay to grieve and to be angry. Feel free to use me as a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen to, or even your personal punching bag when you need to let off steam. I'm here for you, always."

You clung to him, the weight of your emotions finally finding an outlet. The tears seemed endless—a torrent of grief and frustration. Your husband held you tighter, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"We will get through this," he murmured. "One step at a time."

After what felt like an eternity, the tears began to subside, leaving you feeling drained but slightly lighter. Muzan pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. "Feeling better?"

You nodded, unable to find the words to express your gratitude and love for him. Muzan kissed your forehead gently, his lips lingering as if to impart some of his strength to you.

Muzan then took a deep breath and turned to Akaza, his anger still simmering but under control. "Akaza," he began, his voice tight, "I apologize for lashing out at you earlier. My temper got the best of me, and that was uncalled for."

Akaza bowed slightly, his expression unreadable. "No, sir. It's alright. I deserved to be called out like that."

Muzan clenched his jaw, feeling the lingering frustration. He took a moment to calm himself further before continuing. "However, let me be clear. If something like this happens again, there will be consequences. Your primary duty is to ensure her safety. Don't you ever forget that."

Akaza nodded solemnly. "I understand, sir. It won't happen again."

Muzan's gaze softened slightly as he regarded Akaza. "Thank you," then he turned to you again and helped you to your feet.

"Let's get you home," he said, wrapping an arm around your waist.

In the car, the quiet hum of the engine filled the space between you and Muzan. After a few moments of contemplation, you turned to him and broke the silence.

“How did you know I was at the ice rink?”

Akaza cleared his throat, glancing at you through the rearview mirror. “I called him,” he confessed, his eyes avoiding yours.

You turned your gaze to Akaza, surprised by his uncharacteristic admission. "You did?"

He nodded, his expression serious. "Yes, madam. I figured it was better to be safe than sorry. Apologies for taking action without consulting you first."

Understanding the weight of his actions and the potential danger Muzan might have faced because of you, guilt washed over you. You turned back to Muzan, remorse clear in your eyes. “Muzan, I’m so sorry. You must have been very busy today, and I even put you in potential danger by rushing to my aid without Kokushibo with you.”

Muzan shook his head, his expression softening as he reached out to take your hand. “Nothing and no one is more important or more special to me in this world than you, Y/N. I would leave everything behind to ensure you’re safe and well, so don’t ever feel guilty for needing me. Besides, I can’t call myself the president of a nation if I can't protect or be there for the people who are closest to me.”

You felt tears welling up again, but this time, they were tears of gratitude. “Muzan…”

Muzan gently wiped away your tears with his thumb, then pulled you into a warm embrace, his touch tender and reassuring.

The car settled into a comfortable silence once again, and after a few seconds, you glanced at Akaza, who was focused intently on the road.

“Hakuji, thanks again for today.”

“Hakuji?” Muzan asked, confusion lacing his voice. “Who’s Hakuji?”

In the driver’s seat, Akaza froze, his heart skipping a beat. The sudden use of his real name caught him off guard, and he quickly regained his composure, masking his panic with a carefully controlled expression.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter, a hint of unease creeping into his voice.

How did you...?

Wait.

Have you perhaps, by any chance, finally–

“That’s me, sir. Hakuji is my real name; Akaza is just a nickname a relative gave me when I was a kid.”

“I see,” Muzan said, his tone shifting to a more measured curiosity. “You refer to yourself as Akaza to everyone? I don’t recall this being disclosed during your application.”

Akaza flashed a sheepish smile, though it did little to hide the tension in his eyes. “Yes, sir. I’ve used Akaza for most of my life, but I’m fine with Hakuji as well.”

Muzan studied Akaza with a penetrating gaze, sensing the subtle shift in the atmosphere.

“Very well,” he said finally, his voice a mix of intrigue and skepticism.

The drive continued in relative silence, the weight of the recent events settling around the car like a tangible fog. You leaned against Muzan, comforted by his presence, while Akaza focused on the road, his mind racing with the implications of his slip.

When the car finally arrived at your home, Muzan helped you out with a gentle hand, his concern still evident in his eyes. While you were still traveling back, you asked your husband how he got to the ice rink, and apparently he drove there by himself, and because he accompanied you in your car with Akaza, his car was left at the ice rink parking lot. Muzan assured you that he would have Gyokko retrieve it first thing in the morning.

As you walked towards the entrance, you glanced back at Akaza, who had a thoughtful expression on his face.

"You can rest now, Hakuji. Thank you, and I'm sorry too."

Akaza shook his head and smiled gently before bowing. "Don't worry about me, madam. Please rest well."

Muzan took the liberty to officially dismiss Akaza for the night and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his gaze softening. “Let’s get you settled. We’ve had a long day.”

Akaza slammed his bedroom door shut, his mind racing. He had been waiting for this moment—a sign, a confirmation. He leaned against the door, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

The adrenaline coursing through his veins was intoxicating.

This was it.

The opportunity he had been waiting for.

A chance to rewrite his destiny and prove his worth.

But he had to be careful and meticulous. One wrong move could jeopardize everything. He took a deep breath, calming his racing heart.

It was time to put his plan into action.

He pulled out a drawer and retrieved a small, leather-bound notebook. It was a relic from his past, a journal filled with cryptic codes and half-formed plans. He opened it to a blank page and began to write. The pen moved swiftly across the paper, his thoughts flowing onto the page.

A plan was forming—a dangerous and intricate one, but it was a plan nonetheless.

taglist: @bffrrufr @unadulteratedhandsbanditdreamer @unlikelybananawerewolf

71 notes · View notes

kenlvry · 2 years ago

Note

could u do reader and team stan or team craig (u pick) going to a roller skating rink but the reader doesn’t really know how to skate?

ice skating with reader

an, ALSO HELLO I ACCIDENTALLY MADE IT ICE SKATING I'M SOOO SORRY.. i love both teams so uh uj uh im doing my favs, stan kyle craig kenny tweek and clyde, if you want the rest pls request again love muah also listened to russian roulette while doing this. no pronouns used (use of 'girl' in clydes)

♪⁠～

clyde

clyde was pretty bored and it has been long since you two went on a date together, so after searching up "places to go with your partner" he decided to go with ice skating, you love ice skating right?? you had no fucking idea how to skate but since he wanted to go you just agreed 🤷 . you both picked your roller skates and clyde entered the rink first "cmon y/n!" he skated the entire rink and you still haven't entered "whats wrong?" he said stopping and looking through the glass "clyde.. I can't skate" he had to held in a laugh fr, he said he'll help and you agreed,

he held your hand as your left foot was on the ice before you could lift your other leg you fell and did splits, he wish he could laugh ong. you got the use of it, he would skate here and there and ur just struggling to move and inch, he grabbed your arm and skated around "CLYDE CLYDE SLOW DOWN" he didn't stop and you kinda just skated, thats one way to get yo girl to skate.

he'd do an outside edge stop "clyde stop im going to slash your face with the roller skate" "yup okay noted." , you two eventually were skating, it just took 7 falls and 3 holding onto random peoples arm. you can obviously tell that clyde wanted to laugh "... you can laugh" "LMAOOAOA THE WAY YOU FELL HELP"

he'd tease you for awhile until you had to force him to stop. it was still sweet nonetheless, the way he holds your hands throughout the whole thing.

kenny

kenny is the rizzler fr, he'd ask you to go ice skating with so he can rizz you up. like for example youd skate around and he'll skate pass you while winking, he was imagining all the things he'd do, little did he know you had no idea how to skate.

he just immediately went in to skate and skated around searching for you just to realise your on the seats watching him through the glass "wyd, come in" "ken, i cant skate" he just stared shock, all his plans were ruined. he thought to just have fun and teach you, he held you hand as you entered the rink, when you were in he let go and you immediately fell but he caught you, he held your waist and you two were holding intense eye contact, rizzly bear who???

he holds your arm while skating and say things like "I'm gonna catch you if you fall dw" "don't you trust me? its okay" but then proceed to laugh when you fall. he's still sweet though, he genuinely teaches you and praises you when you actually skate on your own.

you fell on top of a random guy and was just staring into each other, kenny pulled you up and asked if you were okay and just pulled you aside, that was suppose to be his moment and he'd try to recreate it just to have some random girl fall ontop of him, he pushed her off and went to you though. it was a funny but fun date ngl, you loved it sm.

kyle

i like to think that kyle is a master of ice skating, he'd do a axel a salchow a lutz and a loop and everyone clapping at him. you just clapping from the glass hes like bro i did all of that for u to just sit down?? "kyle, i can't fucking skate" he laughs softly at that and teaches you.

but no he doesn't teach you how to skate like a normal person he is a whole coach "okay im gonna teach you how to do a spiral and then a layback spin" "kyle i cant even get on the rink without falling backwards and blow my head up" hes just like 🧍 oh. he still teaches you though, hes holding your arm while you get on rink with shaky ass legs and has such patience with you.

he'd teach you how to balance and how to stop without having to fracture your spine. he would try to impress you by doing moves ong. all in all ice skating with kyle is the best

craig

his ice skating skills are average, he can move around maybe jump a little but thats it, you on the other hand can't even walk in the skates. he smiles at how you can't even walk on to the rink. "here lemme help you" one hand on your arm and the other on your waist. hes so gentle with you and when you two actually skate he'd stare at you the whole time

he has to hold in a very big laugh when you fall on your ass for the 19373938 time. you almost fell and some guy hold your hand so you were stable "you okay?" he said and you smiled saying yes, craig immediately gets inbetween you two "you okay babe?" you just smiled and nodded, you'd go skate on your own and craig just flips off the guy

he's the type of guy that every girl fall inloves with at the ice skating rink but his eyes are fully on you, you two were smiling the whole time acting as if you two married blushing at each other and catching each other. everyone was lonely ong 😞

ice skating with him is the most romantic thing and you wish you could repeat the whole thing again.

stan

i think stan is also like a pro at ice skating, he'd go there to release stress so he's a pro. he's doing quads and spinning 4 times, your surprise he hasn't puked yet. by the time his yuzuru wannabe action is done his hair is a mess and every girl is looking at him fr

"why aren't you skating?" he asked through the glass "stan I can't skate fym why I'm not skating" he smiles and asks to help. he is very gentle and patient with you, he holds your arm while you set foot on the rink, if you fall he's fast with it. he sometimes want to laugh but you'd glare at him before he can

he'd totally leave you to continue his yuzuru wannabe action, everyone is clapping and throwing roses and ur just at the edge falling down every second with the 😒 face on. he would pull you around while he skates, it was cute asf people were filming it and posting it everywhere. he's skating backwards looking at you holding your hands smiling and its like the world revolves around you two 🤞

you two would go home to find the both of you viral, you make a mental note to always go skating with him from now on

tweek

tweek himself can't skate what makes you think he's gonna help you??? jk, before asking you to go skating he'd ask every single one of his friends to skate, if you were to go to ice skating rink during fridays ur gonna see tweek skating not moving an inch and the others going "WOOO YESSSS TWEEK"

he eventually can get the basics, but he can't enter the rink without holding on to someone's hand, you tell him you can't skate and it was the perfect chance. he remembers what tolkien taught him and tells you the same thing, although hes shaky the whole time he sometimes fall but its okay you didnt laugh.

he's skating while holding your hand so he doesn't loose you. occasionally looking back to see if your okay, you two would stop for awhile to take a breather. it was cute and you two would definitely not go again bc wtf you two suck ass

#south park #kenny mccormick x reader #south park x y/n #south park x you #kenny mccormick #stan marsh x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski #stan marsh #clyde donovan x reader #clyde donovan #tweek x reader #sp tweek tweak #craig tucker x reader #craig tucker

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