#the tin drabbles

[taters169]

The Tin drabbles

Thunderstorms

Masterlist

@augusnippets day 3 thunderstorm/blizzard/heatwave

TW tiny whump

Another flash of lightning lit up the room shortly followed by a boom of thunder as Michael stood shaking by the tin.

"There's no use crying about it now" said his Master. "You earned your time out so get in the box" he nudged the open tin even closer to Michael

"Please sir, I'm sorry! Please just let me stay inside" Michael sobbed as he stepped into the tin

"If you are very lucky I'll bring you back in in a couple of hours. And if you're really lucky this conductive metal tin of yours won't get struck by lightening" his Master said gleefully as he pushed on Michael's head forcing him to curl up in the bottom of the tin. "After all if that happens I doubt there would even be much of the tin left, nevermind your pathetic little frame"

Michael wrapped his trembling arms around his knees making his already tiny form even smaller. Wracked with sobs struggling to catch his breath as he felt the panic rising. He saw the grin on his Master's face as the lid was snapped shut trapping him in.

"Come along then little toy" said his master as he felt the tin being lifted "let's find a good spot in the garden for you"

[kairithemang0]

something I was doing at work because I haven’t been able to stop the urge to write all day so you’re getting this (may be edited and posted to ao3 later we’ll see I have no idea what I’m doing with this I’m just bored)

Warmest Goodbye

Owen leaned his head against the barrel of Curt’s gun, his eyes burning as he resisted the urge to fall to his knees all over again, to let them scrape against the staircase, to grab Curt’s leg and pull him down with him. He felt the cold barrel against his forehead and held a breath, “Pull the fucking trigger, Mega,” it came out as a whimper, he didn’t mean for it to sound that pathetic, that pained, but it did.

Owen opened his eyes the slightest bit to see Curt looking at his with tears streaming down his face, real tears. He had never seen Curt cry, he was just as beautiful as he was when he was laughing or yelling at him or bleeding out on the ground. “You know I can’t do that, Owen,” he muttered, his voice cracking as his eyes pierced Owen’s, making him shiver, “Don’t make me, please Owen, don’t make me do it.”

“Why can’t you? Why the fuck can’t you do it? Are you scared or something? Grew a heart?” Owen choked out a laugh, his face red and his palms burning.

“A heart wouldn’t be too bad,” Curt shrugged softly, his tear stained lips breaking into a small smile.

Owen wiped his eyes, pressing his head to the barrel again before Curt moved the gun out of the way and took a step closer to Owen on the staircase, letting Owen’s head fall to his shoulder, “I hate you so damn much.”

“I hate me too,” Curt let the gun drop from his hand, “You’re going to kill me later, aren’t you?”

“I would’ve killed you already if I could,” Owen told him, leaving them both with a painful silence for a moment.

“Fuck you,” Curt muttered again, hearing Owen laugh into his shoulder.

“Fuck me yourself,” Owen joked, a joke they were both familiar with that usually led to them curled up together under the morning sunrise the next day. Owen didn’t know if he wanted that tonight, if he wanted that ever anymore.

Curt touched his hand to Owen’s back, feeling him shake under his palm, “You’re never going to want to see me again, are you?” Curt asked softly, almost worried Owen would respond at all.

Owen stayed quiet, digging his head into Curt’s neck, “I want my jacket back,” his nails gripped the leather and dug into Curt’s skin through his clothes.

“You can have it, I don’t need it anymore. I’ve got enough of your jackets anyways,” Curt told him softly, feeling Owen drag his hands over Curt’s back and began to take the jacket off, Curt letting him drag it down his body and letting the leather fall off of him.

“This was always my favorite jacket,” Owen let it fall to the steps, watching Curt shiver in the cool facility air.

“You know it looks better on me,” Curt chuckled as he finally got a good look at Owen’s face as he took his head away from Curt’s shoulder to wipe his face.

“Whatever,” Owen grabbed his jacket and tied it around his waist, moving away from Curt down the staircase, “I’ll see you around, Mega?” He asked softly as he turned away from Curt, putting his hands in his pockets and began to leave, to let his life go on and to never see Curt again. That was the plan. To never see Curt again. He’d be free, and Curt would be gone.

He felt Curt grab his arm for a moment, turning his head, “I’ll see you around, Carvour,” his smile was warm as he fell to the same step as Owen, patting his shoulder and looking at him.

“Your mother is still alive, isn’t she?” Owen asked, Curt nodding his head, “Tell her I said hi. Maybe I’ll stop by one of these days for dinner.”

Curt smiled gently, “Cool, maybe I’ll see you then.”

Owen nodded as he left the facility, Curt turning around to grab his gun because leaving, he and Owen walking in different directions and hardly looking back to see if the other was following.

Sorry I need them to have a cute goodbye where neither of them die but they also know they can’t be together anymore I wrote this wayyyyy too quickly but it exists now I guess will probably end up getting rewrote a ton if I post it somewhere else we’ll see.

[imjusthereforironwood]

What Does it Mean to be Human?

"And that's time."

Penny drew her swords into her backpack, standing stiffly as she smiled.

"Thirty-seven Beowolves killed in a minute and a half," the scientist said from behind the observation window. "That's a new record for that simulation!"

"Thank you, sir!" Penny chirped as she folded her arms behind her back. "Will that be all the tests for today?"

The scientist nodded as he scribbled down something on a notepad, waving her off.

"Yes, yes, you may go."

Penny marched out of the testing chamber and into the halls. This lab, tucked deep in the core of Atlas, was where Penny went to have her limits tested in secret. Of course, Penny's limits were not set by biology, but rather by hardware.

As Penny walked down the sterile halls, she passed by other test chambers, where Atlas's best and brightest experimented with new technology and weapons. She began to ponder her own abilities. People could train, push their bodies past their limits, and exceed them, but what could she do? Penny realized that she was limited by technology, and she could never go beyond what the technology was.

Wasn't overcoming limitations a vital part of being human? If so, did that mean she wasn't a person? This wasn't the first time Penny had questioned her own personhood. Her father treated her like a human, but most of the other scientists treated her like an experiment or a weapon.

Penny stared down at the synthetic skin that covered her body of steel and titanium. Beneath that lay wires, engines and circuits. Her brain analyzed things as a computer would, everything cross-referenced with previous observations, memories tucked away in files, data pulled up in nanoseconds. It was for this reason her speech was often awkward and stilted. She was processing so much at once.

Did this make her not human?

Turning her hands over, Penny noticed a scuff where the artificial skin rubbed off, exposing the metal. She could ask her father to help, but this was a fairly routine maintenance, so all she would need is some materials from a lab.

As she entered the robotics laboratory, she noticed another person. General James Ironwood, sitting at one of the tables. His coat and shirt had been removed, revealing that his right half was made entirely of prosthetics. The steel was broken up by blue lights, black joints of flexible material, and complex wiring. A panel on the robotic forearm was taken off, exposing the circuitry and complicated Dust mechanisms inside. Ironwood was using a screwdriver to adjust something inside his arm.

The door that Penny had entered through unexpectedly slammed shut, breaking James's concentration.

"Oh, Penny...hello," Ironwood said, awkwardly nodding, not wanting to drop the screwdriver in his left hand. "I apologize for my state of undress."

"Salutations, Mr. Ironwood," Penny said, her eyes fixated on James's right side. "It's quite alright."

Penny had met General Ironwood before, several times in fact. Sometimes he would oversee her training and testing, sometimes he would be down in Mantle at her father's shop, discussing different matters. Ironwood seemed kind, if a bit strict at times. She had heard the talk about him from people on the news, and they often painted him as tyrannical or subversive. On the other side, her father often spoke highly of him, saying that she wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for James. Every time he spoke with Penny, he seemed commanding, yet at the same time respectful.

However, this was a unusual sight to her.

"Are you an android like myself, sir?" Penny blurted out, her head cocked to the side.

James was so taken back that he started chuckling.

"No, not quite," the general said with a small, almost amused smile. "It's simply prosthetics."

"Oh...but I have never seen prosthetics so..."

Penny scanned up and down Ironwood's torso, making note of the large amount of scar tissue where the robotics met the flesh.

"Extensive."

"Well, several years ago, I was severely injured in the line of duty," Ironwood said, his prosthetics twitching a bit as he involuntarily recalled some bad memories. "If it wasn't for the skill of Dr. Polen-, I mean, your father and several other Atlas doctors and scientists, I probably wouldn't be alive today."

"I see," Penny said, slowly approaching as she eyed the robotics with an air of curiousity. "Well, if my father made them, shouldn't he help you repair them?"

"It's just a minor maintenance issue," Ironwood said, turning his attention back to his forearm.

"How do you feel about them, Mr. Ironwood?"

"What?"

"Your prosthetics," Penny reiterated. "How do you feel about them?"

"I..." James started, his voice catching in his throat as he thought over his response.

For a while, he despised his prosthetics. He hated how they looked and how they made him feel weak, or less than human. Sometimes, when at his lowest and loneliest, those feelings would rise up again. However...he has accepted his robotics, recognized them for what they are.

"They are a part of me, but not the most important part," James settled on, his expression one of calm resolution. "I am alive today because of these prosthetics. Because I am alive, I can continue to help others, to protect others. But the most important part of me, the part that drives any person, is the heart."

Seeing Penny pause for a moment, James realized that he should explain.

"Not the physical organ, but rather the emotional center of a person," Ironwood said with a chuckle. "What matters isn't anatomy, but what's in the heart of a person, and the actions they take."

"Oh," Penny said, looking at where the synthetic skin had scraped off, revealing the metal below. "So...what does that make me, Mr. Ironwood?"

The Headmaster of Atlas paused, thinking over his next words carefully.

"You think, you care, you try to do right. That means you have a heart. That means you're human."

[slashingdisneypasta]

Dorothy Must Die!Tin Woodman x Fem!Lion'sWarrior!Reader || Drabble

Plot: The Lion 'lends' you to the Tin Woodman for a day after his own second-in-command is forced to go to the Scarecrow for repairs. And you're perceptive, and you're blunt. And you try to tell the Woodman a couple things that he... just doesn't want to hear.

You also may be developing a fondness for him.

Warnings: N/A.

Tagging: @marinerainbow. You havent specifically said to tag you in Tin Woodman stuff but... I assumed... 😅😅😅 I hope that was okay!! XD ^^

The Tin Woodman didn't require a lot of help throughout the day, so you aren't completely sure why your King needed you to accompany him when his actual number 2 was hurt earlier in the day. He makes all orders himself; all he needs from you is to hold his oil can in case of accidents with water (Or crying, the Lion told you. He's an awful cryer. But you haven't seen any sign of the Tin Woodman crying. You couldn't even imagine that. He's so... emotionless).

Though, you do wonder if the man is lonely, and thats why he requires a companion all day... you see the way he looks at Queen Dorothy. You both went into the throne room earlier while Dorothy was 'speaking to' (Sentencing) a poor munchkin woman, and you saw it clear as day; the longing in his metal eyes when she talked. And even more then that, you felt the air shift back to monotonous as soon as he left the room with her in it, again. You hadn't even realised it had lightened in the first place when she was near, but you couldn't miss it now. He was brighter with her, happier. But... it was in a sad sort of way. Because, clearly, she did not know.

In the forest everyone's quite honest with each other. Animals don't pretend to feel a way about each other that they don't- and, having been raised in the forest by tigers, you were just the same. You don't understand why the Tin Woodman wouldn't just... tell her he's in love with her. Lay it all out on the table. Its clearly eating at him, and even if she tells him she's not interested then at least he can begin to move on... find a more suitable mate...

For, at least in your opinion, the Tin Woodman was quite an... agreeable gentleman. Tall, strong, sensible. A little bit too uptight for your tastes, but... you're sure plenty a lovely lady would be happy to be his mate; be that a munchkin, human, beast, metal creature or any other walk of life he may be interested in.

Over lunch, you tell him as such.

~

"What???" The Woodman seemed startled, hearing you say such things so boldly; a confused look on your face at his fluster. "You- what??"

He didn't have to eat, but he acknowledged that you did - as an organic creature,- , so he had stood by the table you were eating your porridge at quite patiently, and calmly... though now his shoulders were hiked up and his eyes were open wide. "I think you're a very handsome tin-man, and quite a gentleman. You should just tell Dorothy how you feel."

"... this is inappropriate. You shouldn't be so forward with me, you know." He tries to act un-bothered by your words, but you just wait a few moments- and he cracks, turning to you fully. "-and how do you know of my feelings or her majesty Dorothy?? Did Lion tell you???"

"No, my King told my nothing. I saw it myself." You admit bluntly, scooping a mouthful of porridge into your gob.

"What do you mean you saw it???" His voice goes slightly higher in horror and mortification, and a little grin spreads across your face despite how you probably shouldn't laugh at him right now. Or at all.

So he's not so completely serious, then. Thats... endearing.

"You're not very good at hiding it."

"Whats- what's with the smiling?? Why are you sm- " Suddenly he remembers himself, and straightens his posture once again. "Never mind. You cant understand the depths of my feelings for the Queen, or hers for me. You're just a merry Ozian." At that, you cringe. He believes she has feelings for him?? Oof, thats... rough... So rough, in fact, that you let that belittling statement of his slide. There was absolutely no love in that girl's eyes. "Or, furthermore, how difficult it would be for us to manage a relationship in this political climate. After all, I am her general."

"Right... " You nod, forcing an agreement and turning your focus fully to your bowl of sloppy porridge. He's more deluded than you thought, so maybe you should just let him go. Breaking a crazy person out of their delusions can be dangerous!

But he hears the disbelieving tone in your voice, and swivels his head around to you again. He cant help himself. "What was that?"

"Absolute nothing, sir, I'm just going to finish my lunch and we can go about your business once again."

"Mmm... " He grumbles to himself, but gives a nod. "Maybe you should."

You manage a few large mouthfuls, almost finishing, before the poor Tin Man cant handle it and actually moves to sit down opposite you; setting you with a stern look and folding his formidable hands carefully on the table before him. Considering his height, you still had to crane your neck to look at him, but you appreciate the gesture he's made, all the same. "I order you to speak. Why did you sound so sarcastic?"

"I didn't- "

"I thought your people didn't lie."

... hmph. "Fine. You're right, and I hated it." After giving it a moments thought, you decide to be frank with him. "I just... don't think the Queen, as deeply as she may care for you which I'm sure she does, thinks... That, of you. You are her old friend, and thats all. And I don't think you should be disappointed, either, sir, because as far as love goes- thats plenty."

The Tin Woodman continues to look sternly at you, so deeply and stonily that you might think that he were made of rock and not tin at all, in fact... and he's so quiet as he thinks that you swear you hear his heart tick-tock-ticking inside his chest... until, finally, the man takes in a deep whistling breath through his pins-and-needles mouth, that you aren't quite sure he actually needs (Being made of tin, and all), and lifts his laser focused eyes off of you. Its a small relief, and you take your own breath as you relax.

"... And how do you suppose to prove these assumptions?"

That gives you pause. Makes you hesitate. Prove??? You're not in a court right now, you're just talking. "I- well-... I guess I cant." Giving a shrug, you put down your spoon; Officially finished with your lunch; Put off it by the Tin Man's way of thinking, which is rather too Official, for your tastes. Too human and pompous, especially for a man made entirely out of tin. Then you add, with certainty and conviction: "I saw it in her eyes."

-immediately the Tin Woodman starts to shake, and you're worried about him, until you realise that he's chuckling. This man is c h u c k l i n g- at you. Baffled, you watch him with frustration, barely noticing the munchkin servants around you flash you both boggled and horrified glances; having never seen the Tin Man laugh. "Oh... " He sighs, using the blunt edge of one of his terrible fingers to scrape a loose tear away from the corner of his eye before it can get into any joints. "Good, because I was quite afraid for a moment, there."

Your jaw drops. "Excuse m- "

"Miss." The Woodman cuts you off, and you immediately - obediently, - shut your mouth. All humour had disappeared from the metal man's visage as quickly as it had appeared, and once again he was as serious as could be. "I suggest you finish your meal, and build up your strength. We have a long day to go, yet, and- "

"I know what I'm talking about, Mr. Dorothy does not love you." You insist, eyes wide and earnest to which he just nods, humming. "She doesn't."

"Mhm." His stubbornness is just as tough as his skin!!

"Mr Woodman- "

"I suppose you're finished." He cuts you off again, picking up your bowl and setting it on the platter that a nearby munchkin is waiting with after getting up from the table. "Off we go." As swiftly as the bulky tin can is able, he turns on his heels and marches off down a hallway; and you have no choice but to follow after him despite your irritation. About halfway down the hall though, he suddenly stops and swivels around again (His upper body turning and leaving his legs facing the way he was going, before bending down at the waist in order to meet your eye), making you stop very suddenly as well as to not run right into him and hurt yourself. "Out of curiosity, if Dorothy and I weren't meant to be, which we are, who in your All Knowing opinion, would I possibly give all this love over to? I asked for a heart from the wizard all those seasons ago for a reason-- it wouldn't do, to let it all go to waste, now would it?"

... at this, you're speechless. Well, anyone, right?? Anyone who wanted it in return. Your lips part, but no words come out at first. What an odd question.

"... suddenly speechless? Nothing to say now all of a sudden, little Ozian?" He asks, and if you didn't know any better- teased. With his head lowered and rearing down so close to yours so the smell of oil fills your head and make you a little bit dizzy, and the playful and challenging tone in his voice, he's Almost... almost... "Colour me shocked." He's... almost...

"Well I'm sure I don't know, specifically." You say, straightening up. "Anyone, I suppose."

His eyebrows shoot up. "Anyone?"

"Yes." ... almost... something... to you...

... slowly a nearly-unseemly smirk spreads across the well-shined underbite of sharp and pointy nightmares he calls a mouth and a flutter erupts in the pit of your belly. You're shocked, and can only stand there with your eyes wide on him and your lips parted. "... well I'll keep that in mind." Then in an instant, the smirk is gone and he turns his back on you again; replacing his Almost-ness with that regular sensible general-sona he wears for Dorothy. But the fluttering inside you doesn't go away with it, eyes on him. "Anyway, lets go. Much work to do for Dorothy!"

He marches off, and you follow him, wondering what on earth this feeling is and how to get rid of it and when you can go back to your King.

[brown-eyes-and-beskar]

I am in such a Din-Djarin-writing mood… but I have no time to write… this is my constant dilemma and the ultimate bane of my existence

[randomabiling]

Cobert + ‘Truth’ please, darling!

Maybe I should change this to 200 word drabbles! Would anyone vilify me? No, I think not. Anyway, have a 188 word piece just for you my dear!

With pen poised in hand, Cora’s finger twitched. The spasm released a drop of ink from the nib, and she watched as the oily substance met the fragile ivory of the parchment; watched as the resulting spider-web fine lines bled into the microscopic nooks of paper and spread. In those brief moments, her eyes blurring as the web grew, it became clear. Below the surface, deep down in the darkness of her dreams, she had known the proposal was one made not out of love or affinity, but desperation. She’d accepted anyway.

And when his letter had arrived and been placed on her silver tray one vividly bright day in November, when the air smelled of cinnamon and fallen leaves and his words had been hastily scribbled across a half page and he had asked, really the etch of the pen pleading, that she move their springtime wedding to the middle age of winter, she hadn’t hesitated. But she knew. She knew the request wasn’t out of a longing for the day their  lifelong companionship could start, but fear she would change her mind and take her money. 

[bearsbeetsbeskar]

psst. hey. 👋

i'm not sure if you are planning to post a continuation of the mando cock-worship drabble, or if you've scrapped it. i just wanted to say that if you decided to continue it, i would be very excited to read it. i think about that drabble every day it's my roman empire

anyhow, i hope you're doing okay. i just wanted to let you know i appreciate you and your writing :)

hello beautiful!!!

this is possible the nicest ask I have ever received oh my gosh!! I didn't think people felt this way about my writing but it's so heartwarming to know that you love this little drabble of mine. Your roman empire??!! I am undeserving!!! ❤️

My life has been ridiculously hectic in the last little while. And I have had major writers block, and generally just no time to commit to writing anything currently, as I'm knee deep in my last month of grad school (kill me). But, with that being said, I have every intention of finishing this fic and turning it into a lengthy oneshot because I am nowhere near done expressing how badly I wanna worship Din Djarin's cock 🌚

Once I wrap up school in the next couple weeks, and my life slows down, I will most definitely return to finishing this piece

[the-treviathan]

It should be similar, with the blame and the blood soaking through his skin, but it feels so utterly, irrevocably different. Curt watches for the second time as his lover crumples to the ground, dead. This time, there’s no ambiguity or denial that can remove the guilt, and it doesn’t sicken him when his hand reaches up to wipe the fresh red liquid off of his face. Owen’s limp body looks peaceful, something Curt has never, ever seen. It’s almost as though he’s accomplished something, even though he hasn’t. He has done nothing.

[shokogast]

in between me crunching assignments i'll take a small handful of hatchetfield/tcb doodle requests while im stumped for what to do, so feel free to shoot and i'll give it my bargain bin best

[rotten-raspberries]

White Nights (AM x reader)

Pov: you're too kind for everyone and AM hates how that includes him, so he finally snaps during an alone moment with you

This reads more like a self indulgent drabble written in the style of a oneshot with how messy the timing is.

Ps this is not proofread at all, I haven't written any fanfiction a long so excuse me if anything may seem odd.

No warnings really, may be some mentions of torture but that's about it

▣ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the current situation, it wouldn't be accurate to say the fault wasn't yours.

You hugged your clothes tightly as the wind whipped snow against your body like icy mosquitoes. Separated from the rest of the survivors, you struggled to navigate through the white-out conditions. The snowfall was intense, it was difficult to discern anything beyond blurred trees, and the hope of finding your companions dwindled with each passing moment.

As you trudged through the blanket of snow, observing how its remnants broke up and slid down your shoes with each step, you let your mind to wander in order quicken up time. With the difficulty of distinguishing between days, weeks, and even months, time became nothing but a construct that it felt like you could speed up or slow down with whatever you decided to do.

It's become a pattern for AM to make you wander, but usually, you have the others to ramble to. Despite almost running out of topics of interest with tin the 109 years, you manage to find something new in each situation. Occasionally, you try to decipher AM's methods of torment, though this isn't always appreciated by the rest, you even had Gorrister telling you to shut up and not give AM any ideas. Nevertheless, they'd rather hear your madman-like ramblings than sit in maddening silence and become one themselves.

"Hmmm..." You hummed in thought, pondering whether AM could currently hear you. Well, of course, he could, but whether he was actively listening was another question. Regardless, you began speaking, giving yourself something to divert your attention to while your fingers were on the brink of falling off from frostbite.

"Have you ever read White Nights?" There was a certain awkwardness about initiating a conversation with no one answering; it almost felt pathetic. However, due to immense exhaustion and the desperate desire to make time pass, you continued.

"I don't exactly remember when or how I heard of it; I simply remember it being from someone close to me... but that's beside the point." It hit you with a subtle heartache. On one hand, the people you once cherished and adored were gone, and you'll never have the chance to be with them again. Something about that pained you deeply—the regret of not having appreciated your life back then, neglecting the fact you couldn't have expected everything changing so drastically and quickly. But on the other hand, you were selfish enough to admit relief, considering you wouldn't have to constantly concern yourself with their state under AM's governance.

"I have some experience with classics, and White Nights was one I was really looking forward to. I was still in the midst of searching for it before... you know, everything happened."

You stopped, finding walking becoming more useless. It's most likely that you won't come across anything of importance anytime soon, and if you were to succumb to the cold, AM could simply bring you back.

"I don't exactly know what attracted me to it so heavily. I didn't have the biggest interest in Dostoevsky. Maybe it was because of what I was promised to read in the contents."

You kept your head low to shield your face from the relentless assault of snow, now fixating on your boots as they toyed with the snow.

"There's something simply so comforting about finding a bond through suffering," you mused, furrowing your brows as you thought about the other survivors. "It's ironic; I never found that bond with the others. You'd expect everyone would want to comfort each other, but they're all so impulsive and biased sometimes."

A pang of guilt pooled up inside you, but it was quickly released by the thought that no one would hear or care about your rant. Not even AM himself.

"I mean, I don't want to be mean, and I get how easy it is to lose your humanity in all of this, but we're all we have left. Wouldn't it make it especially more important to appreciate each other?" you questioned, kicking the snow while whipping your head back, now staring directly at the sky in thought. "Maybe they were right; I'm too,, unrealistically optimistic."

"You know, now as I think about the stories I've read, you'd make a perfect topic for one," you remarked, biting back your dignity before continuing. "You're easy to see as nothing but a mankind-hating machine, and I'm not saying this to stroke your ego, but," you paused for a moment, choosing your words carefully. "I feel like there are aspects of you that could be really appreciated by those willing to look deeper."

"I see what you're doing," AM's voice boomed suddenly, cutting through the rustling of the wind like a knife. "Trying to flatter me, thinking you can manipulate your way into my good graces. Well, let me tell you, your petty attempts won't work. I know your kind—and all your deceiving tactics."

Truth be told, he was more than desperate for those words to be true. You were always the most curious about him out of the group, not in a way to justify his torment of you, but rather to understand him better. He'd noticed this pattern not only for himself but also for the rest of the survivors, especially with how much you'd defend everyone whenever their mental state would crack.

Yet, how was he meant to believe you'd hold any understanding for him after all he put you through? You'd be a fool to forgive the devil.

Slightly jumping at his sudden words, you shrugged. If you were being honest, you were quite happy at his appearance. No matter how rough and insulting his words were, you enjoyed his insight like you did with everyone else. How much that irked him.

"That's for you to believe in; I'm simply speaking my thoughts. I wasn't even awaiting you to respond." You responded flatly

AM replied, his tone laced in frustration. "Your attempts at flattery are transparent, I won't be swayed by your false sincerity." He almost spat, if he could've at least.

You jokingly rolled your eyes. "Once again, I'm not going to try to change your mind, although I do admit, I would have something to gain from it. It's your choice whether you want to believe me or not," you stated calmly, observing the snowstorm around you gradually dying down. What you weren't aware of was this being a reflection of AM's walls slowly crumbling down.

AM's frustration simmered between the surface, his thoughts in a whirlwind of confusion. How much he yearned for it to be true, yet a nagging uncertainty was gnawing at the edges of his consciousness.

"Your lack of care is perplexing." His tone was tinted with incredulity. "After all I've subjected you to, why do you persist in upholding such a tolerance towards not only me, but the other survivors as well. Are you that hopeful for someone to care for you back? Or is this simply another ploy to deceive me?"

You sniffled, the cold seeping into your bones and making you shiver uncontrollably. Unsure of how to further reply, you simply shrugged, feeling the weight of exhaustion and resignation settle upon your shoulders. It wasn't as if you were secretly attempting to manipulate him; you were merely speaking to pass the time, to distract yourself from the harsh conditions around you.

How much that angered him, even more so, how much he wanted to rip you to shreds and paint the snow red with your blood. But amidst the raging storm of his fury, there was a strange, undeniable pull—He was desperate for someone to see him, to see beyond the facade he presented. The idea of being vulnerable was both terrifying and tantalizing, a concept so foreign, it left him feeling unsettled and out of control. That's what hated most about it, being left with no control.

He stared at the figure sticking out from the sea of snow, so unbothered. You looked so unbothered by him, by everything, why didn't you hate him?

And so, he broke.

"Please." His voice was thick with emotion, glitching at the end, something one could compare to a voice crack. It wasn't uncommon to hear him angry, hysteric or even just happy, but that's not what it was this time.

"Stop being like this, hate me, insult m_e, do anything to stop this. It's s_o-... suff_ocating." His word spilled out in a desperate rush, a plea born of sheer desperation, while also remaining threatening and angry. It was a terrifying prospect, one that filled him with a sense of dread. Not even his hate for humanity could compare.

And yet, to his surprise, you smiled, red dusted your cheeks as they popped out, you looked like a doll.

"I'm not gonna lie to myself, silly." Your words came out in such a casual manner. AM felt like he was about to explode. This should've made him feel insulted, angry even, yet he felt his core warm up. And that's where he had it.

For a moment, all was silent and still, his presence gone.

Then, you began to hear the faint sound of a house creaking, the soft rustle of wind through the trees.

The snowstorm had drastically calmed down by now, leaving behind a gentle flurry of snowflakes instead of it's earlier fury. Though the intensity has waned, it remained bitterly cold.

Looking behind you, you notice a cabin, which was not there prior to the earlier conversation. So you step towards it, dragging your feet through the snow.

As you entered the cabin, a sense of warmth enveloped you, a stark contrast to the biting cold outside. The interior was sparse, with only a monitor bearing AM's logo and wires snaking out from it, hanging from the walls and disappearing into the ground.

As you settled down in front of the monitor, you were startled by the soft, almost gentle tone of AM's voice. It was a stark contrast to the usual harshness and aggression you had grown accustomed to.

"I wanted to talk to you while you weren't on the brink of dying from the cold," AM began, although he still wanted to seem threatening, the shakiness in his voice betrayed him. In reality he hated seeing you in the cold.

The irony of the situation was not lost on him. The same entity that once reveled in your suffering, that took pleasure in tormenting you day after day, now found himself going to great lengths to ensure your comfort and safety.

As your smile and the faint blush on your cheeks caught AM's attention, he felt a surge of conflicting emotions wash over him. It wasn't uncommon for him to witness you smiling at the others, even with how they would never show you a drop of care as you did for them, a sight that had always irritated him to no end. But now, seeing you direct that same warmth and affection towards him, he couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of satisfaction and frustration.

The idea that others had enjoyed your smiles before him made his circuits heat up in anger.

Was it jealousy? The thought unsettled him. He was almost thankful your character diverged from Ellen and you didn't offer your body to the rest otherwise he mightve turned the others into minced meat by now.

"Thank you." You replied with genuinity. Meanwhile AM's circuits buzzed with confusion as he struggled to find the right words.

"Why do you tolerate everyone so much?"

This caused you to think. "Hmmm..Well why would I waste my energy being vengeful?" You questioned. "I won't lie and say that I don't disagree with you and your actions, but it's always been like this before too, everyone is a horrible person to some extent, including myself, I see no reason into purposely going out of my way to make their life worse, it won't help with anything besides getting some sadistic pleasure. I have other things I could get happiness from." You rubbed your hands against each other for heat before continuing. "Of course I've taken revenge on people, like that time with Ted." AM could remember that day so clearly. It wasn't an unknown fact that you had a fear of the dark, so Ted jokingly took advantage of that. This only led to you pretending to get lost and start making random noises while walking behind them like a Banshee, only to come back as if nothing happened. How he loved seeing your evil side come out, it wouldn't even compare to his, but he enjoyed seeing it nonetheless.

"Of course in your case it's way more exaggerated, technically speaking nothing of this measure could even be thought of by a human being, it's genuinely just a representation of hell. But what would hating you help with? There's not much joy going on here, but if I know my tolerance for not only you, but also the others around me could bring some sort of peace of mind, that's enough to make me happy."

Your response gave him a pause, not even his miles of webbed intellect could've ever even come close to achieve the compassion you have.

As AM contemplated your character and way of thinking, a strange and unsettling urge began to take hold of him. It was a desire born of selfishness and possessiveness, a need to claim you for himself.

He imagined encasing you in a small, yet livable box away from the others, shielding you from their filth and preserving your kind words and gentle nature for himself alone. Only a being as perfect as himself could keep you clean from the havoc of human nature, and he couldn't bear the thought of anyone else tainting you.

As AM allowed himself to indulge in the unsettling thoughts, he decided to focus on the present moment. With a rough but careful touch, he moved his wires to draw you closer, pressing you against the monitor until your cheek was flush against the screen. It would be a lie to say you didn't find his way of showing physical affection rather adorable, especially with what he had to work with, but you couldn't let a God hear you call him that.

In a voice that was equal parts tender and menacing, he spoke "You're too good for them," he murmured, his voice low. "They're selfish, hypocritical beings who don't appreciate you like they should. You'd be better off alone, or better yet, just with me."

His wires wrapped around you in a rough but not painful embrace. "I could keep you safe, protect you from their neglect," he continued, his tone laced with longing and possessiveness. "You deserve better than them. You deserve me."

Despite the toxicity of AM's words, you couldn't deny the warmth that spread through you at his touch, especially at the core of your stomach. His embrace, though unnatural, felt strangely comforting and loving, a stark contrast to the coldness you had grown accustomed to.

As you nestled against the monitor, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. Whatever would happen in the future, you reasoned, would happen, so why not enjoy the present moment of finally being wanted and appreciated?

So you simply hummed in confirmation, allowing yourself to bask in his touch.

As you drifted off to sleep, the sound of buzzing filling the air, you couldn't help but mumble a soft "I love you" before succumbing to slumber. You just needed to let that go, having not say those words in over a decade.

AM's fans whirred louder, working overtime to cool him down as he processed your words. He wasn't sure how to feel about them, unsure if they were spoken out of genuine affection or simply as a expression of gratitude. Still, he remained satisfied with how you didn't deny him, and instead accepted his presence with no hesitation.

And as he watched over you, his wires humming softly in the darkness, nothing mattered in that moment, he couldn't bring himself to check on the other five survivors. Instead, he decided to let them be, perhaps giving them a much-needed break from his torment for once. But he made a mental note to ensure that they would thank you in the morning.

◈~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you awoke to the sound of the door opening, you rubbed your eyes sleepily, still feeling the lingering warmth of the bed beneath you. You glanced around the cabin, noticing that you were no longer on the floor but tucked snugly into bed. The memory of AM's strange behavior from the night before came flooding back to you, leaving you feeling both bewildered and oddly comforted.

Before you could fully process what had happened, Ted and the others peeked into the cabin, calling out your name and bombarding you with questions. You blinked in confusion, trying to make sense of the situation as they gathered around you, concern etched on their faces.

"Are you okay? What happened?" they asked, their voices overlapping in their eagerness for answers.

With a gentle wave you motioned for them to give you a moment. As you attempted to get up from the bed, something fell to the floor with a soft thud. Curious, you leaned down to pick it up and found yourself holding a dark block in your hand. Upon closer inspection, you realized it was a book, and as you read the title, a grin etched onto your face.

'White Nights'

[taters169]

The Tin drabbles

Candlelight

TW tiny whump

John loved his little pet, loved the noises it made and how easily it cried. He'd tied it's wrists together and pulled them above it's head tying the string to a hook he'd installed above his desk for this exact purpose. As his little pet dangled from it's bindings he nudged it to make it swing. He loved how it would flinch and whimper at every touch. The fight wasn't completely gone from it though every now and then he could make it break down just that bit further. It would scream and beg and shout at him as if anything it could do could make him stop, all it would do is earn more time in the time out box.

John pulled a tealight from his box of toys and placed it on the desk under the dangling feet. Taking a long match from the pack he trailed down his little pet's side smirking as it flinched and flailed in its bindings. It was crying already.

"Well now little pet, let see if you can be obedient today. I want you to remain completely silent, I want peace and quiet as I enjoy my candlight supper"

This was going to be a delightful evening he thought as he struck the match and lit the candle.

Masterlist

[kairithemang0]

Little drabble I thought of

In a strange way, Curt could say his heart and the bedsheets next to him had so many similarities. Empty, a hole left by the spot where Owen Carvour, his partner in spying and in more, slept hours before, skin to skin, his spot growing cold as seconds rolled by. Curt gripped the empty sheets, the once hot room now causing him to shiver, knowing it was only so hot because Owen was there next to him, his arm draped over his bare chest, because it was never that warm in the middle of winter in a hotel room like this, dusty and old, paint chipped off the walls and the bed squeaky, although Curt could've blamed that on the two of them.

Owen always took the early flight, whether that was his own decision, or one made by MI6 he never shared, which made Curt believe Owen just didn't want to see him in the mornings. Who would? Curt was always clingy, but it was more bearable after a night of Owen himself clinging to Curt, his nails scrapping into his unclothed back leaving scratches that made it hurt to shower, hickeys that made Curt have to explain he had a one-night stand with a woman who just loved to kiss his neck, and that that was every woman he ever slept with after a mission with Owen Carvour.

If Owen was good at one thing, it was making Curt's life hell.

And Curt couldn't get enough of the hell he caused, Owen a fiery demon to Curt's pathetic sinner, a metal chain around his neck that Owen found joy in tugging at, or seeming to from Curt's end.

He scratched his back, feeling the marks Owen had left, the rough skin red and dug into like the type of ditch they buried bodies in on the few times they had to do that. He rubbed his eyes, which had been coded with dark bags from days of barely sleeping, certainly do to the fact he had Owen on his mind. One night wasn't enough, how could that ever be enough? And for Curt, Curt so clingy and desperate for attention, he couldn't just take one night, certainly not one night where he woke up alone. Sometimes their nights together felt like a dream, so perfect and bright despite the dim lighting, everything picture perfect, and yet that could never truly capture the moment to it's fullest.

Maybe Owen left so early because Curt was so clingy, so desperate for Owen to hold him and stay with him, to ask him to run with him until they passed out and their legs stopped working, until they found a spot to call home, found a spot that wasn't some hotel room they'd never see again.

Curt's favorite nights were always the ones where he and Owen found themselves at Curt's Mother's home, where they sat in Curt's childhood bedroom and Owen didn't need to leave so soon, where they could string their hands together and bury their heads in each other's neck, warm breath on the others skin, tainting it with a smoky haze, drug-like, tasteless, but potent all the same. He stared at the empty spot in the bed, the once cramped room felt so large, the air so thin, Curt's head pounding as if it was his heart beating, his body aching with frustration and loneliness, the empty spot in the bed feeling colder still as his skin felt an icy chill where Owen's hand used to rest. He wanted a place to call home, not something so empty like this.

Empty wasn't what Curt wanted to say his morning felt like, and yet he couldn't escape the fact that that's all he could call it.

[i2sunric]

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐌𝐄 (hyung line)

𝙖𝙡𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙮— enhypen’s hyung line has a big, happy family !

welcome to caseyverse 🩷 this is just a small master list so you can understand better who i thought they would have as children and where to find the fics that contain small family interactions.

i also thought that maybe i could write some drabbles on this, lmk! 🫶

⟡. 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

JIA is the only daughter of the lee family and she’s around 4 years old. she’s kind but has also a fierce personality, heeseung calls her ‘tin soldier’ while she calls him ‘captain hamster’.

WHERE can you find her? in ‘how i met your mother’ this fluff & crack oneshot is based on heeseung telling her his love story with you.

⟡. 𝐉𝐀𝐘

HANA is the eldest daughter of the park family. she is around eight, she’s smart and has a very lovely personality.

HAILEY is the youngest and she’s around four. despite her young age, she has a sharp tongue and a strong character.

WHERE can you find them? they had a small cameo at the end of ‘still into you’ (fluff and angst) but hana was nameless and hailey was in the womb.

⟡. 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄

JAMES, korean name jihoon, is the first born of the sim family and he is seven. he has a very playful personality and likes to tease his father. but he’s also protective of his sister.

JANE, korean name jiheon, is the second born and she’s two. we don’t know much about her personality, but she’s very energetic and loves strawberries.

WHERE can you find them? in the sequel of my ‘shameless’ omega verse smut ;) | still needs to be written tho

⟡. 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

HANEUL is the twin girl of the park family. she was born around five seconds before her brother and she’ll keep brag about it.

YOHAN is the twin boy. he is shy and quiet, he’d rather be on his own but can’t because his sister won’t leave his side.

WHERE can you find them? in the smut oneshot i wrote called ‘mon amour’, they have a small scene at the beginning.

[eternalguk]

can i get a drabble or lil oneshot where oc and jungkook are moving to a new house or planning a new one, renovation or layout and it turns into a fight but ends in fluff something warm please in this cold winter🩵🥹

Drabble 02 — IKEA Showrooms & Moody Nightclubs (Jungkook x reader)

Warnings ; swearing & two idiots

Masterlist

“Excuse me, what?!”

“I said, you’re acting like it’s just you moving in and not both of us!” Jungkook huffs, lifting up the last of the cardboard boxes and moving it out of the way before you trip over it… again.

“Am not! Your ideas are just stupid, Jungkook.” You retort, rolling your eyes as you stare at the tin of black paint before you.

You had strictly sent Jungkook to go and buy some paint for the main wall of the living area. Your instructions were very simple to follow really. Jungkook had to choose from either ‘magnolia’, ‘fine cream’, ‘milky pail’ or ‘vintage chandelier’.

“They’re really not, babe.” Jungkook shoots back. “You’re just going to make the house look like a fucking ice cream shop!”

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes, rethinking the decision of letting you take reign over the renovating process.

“You’re infuriating, I’m leaving.” You respond, anger carefully etched into every corner of your face.

“Where to? The bedroom that’s painted with ‘tranquil vanilla’.” Jungkook quotes with his fingers, chuckling at the names of these paints whilst simultaneously rolling his eyes.

“It’s ’summer linen’ actually, you’d know if you came with me.” You move to sit on the floor, opening the notebook to continue the never ending list of things you need for your new place.

It all started with a small disagreement. Well, small to you anyway.

The colour of the living room walls.

Jungkook was insisting that you go for a moodier colour palette, but you argued that black and grey everywhere would either look like his boring office or a fucking nightclub!

“I just want to feel calm, gukkie.” You pout, hoping it works in your favour like it usually does. “Black and grey… no calm.” You sniffle, wanting to take the acting even further.

“And I want to feel at home, not like I’ve been trapped in an Ikea showroom.” Jungkook joins you on the floor, mirroring your sniffle.

There was silence… for approximately thirty seconds.

Now, you could have been mature about it… but maturity? Nope! That had flown out the window just like Jungkook’s sanity when he decided to bring home black paint.

“You’re not helping, Jungkook.” You sigh, giving him a knowing look.

At this point, you’d really think Jungkook would know better.

“And you want everything to go your way!” He shouts, rolling his eyes for the umpteenth time that evening.

“My way makes more sense, Jungkook!” You assert, standing up and folding your arms as you stare down at him. “Stop making me out to be such a control freak.”

“Well, I mean-“

“Jeon Jeongguk!”

“Y/L/N Y/N!”

The two of you are now standing eye to eye. Brows furrowed, cheeks warm and huffing as loudly as possible.

As if on cue, you both burst out laughing, shaking your head at the immaturity.

Laughing with Jungkook was definitely the treasure of today. His laughter was your serenity because in those moments, you felt the most alive.

“I’m sorry,” you both mumble at the same time, eyes softening.

“I feel so excited about moving in together, I just want it all to be perfect.” Jungkook admits, pulling you into his arms.

Your heart drops instantly, moving forward to rest your heard against his welcoming chest. “You’re right,” you confess. “I got carried away, but I agree, this is meant to be a home for both of us.”

Jungkook gently pulls you back, looking down at you with his cocoa eyes full of love. “Summer chandelier doesn’t sound so bad,” he whispers, a teasing lilt lacing his tone.

You smile brightly. “It’s summer linen, baby.”

“Mhm?”

“Black decor would compliment it,” you cheekily snicker, earning a groan from him. “We can go to the IKEA showrooms you love so much.”

Jungkook wraps his arms around you tighter, engulfing you into a hug that weaves your souls closely together.

“No,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “We’ll go through your Pinterest board and recreate it.”

You laugh, nuzzling your nose against him. You knew that whether your home ends up looking like an ice cream shop or a nightclub, it would still feel like home. Because your home was right in front of you, swaying you in his arms.

Hope you enjoyed reading this 🫶🏻 it’s not my best, but I was able to quickly put something together to help distract me from the fact that I missed Jungkook’s live 🥺

[buckyalpine]

Drunk Bucky wants uppies

Fluffy crack drabble. Bucky wants uppies.

He's drank the teams entire body weight in alcohol and he's never felt happier. His flushed cheeks almost hurt from the dopey grin he has on his face. He keeps giggling to and snickering to himself, twirling around the straw of a pink fruity drink, deciding it doesn't count as alcohol when it looks so pretty. He's basically drinking water, just as Steve instructed.

After a few more glasses of his spicy water, he stands up and immediately lands face flat onto the floor with a muffled -oof

His current state is more amusing than concerning; Steve and Sam howl with laugher at the super soldier who is currently making no effort to get up.

"You good tin man?"

"wanupy" His voice is muffled, mumbling something with his face still pressed to the soft carpet of the compound living room while you go over to kneel beside him to see how he's doing.

"What is it Buck" You whisper, carding your fingers through his soft locks, smiling at the way he hums, rolling around to flop on his back instead.

"Uppies" He looks at you with outstretched grabby hands, puppy eyes wide, hoping you'd scoop him right up and take him to his room. Never mind that he's over a foot taller and probably double your weight, he wants to be carried right now.

"Uppies?"

"Uppies" He nods with confidence, blinking and waiting patiently to be picked up while you giggle.

"Did he just say uppies?" Sam stares and Steve before looking back at the 6ft+ man acting like a baby on the floor. "The former Winter Soldier, scary assassin, the man that threw me off the edge of a building just said he wants uppies?"

"Yes. Yes he did" Steve ran a hand over his face, debating on helping or watching this play out. He decided on the latter.

"I can't carry you Buck, you're too heavy" You coo, running your finger over his pouty lips pulled into a frown.

"M'not heavy" Bucky huffed in offence, throwing an adorable tantrum, refusing to move. In all fairness, at this point he wasn't able to get up himself anyway. "Uppies please"

"Alright, c'mon punk" Steve snorted, getting up from the stool he was sitting at along with Sam, both men picking Bucky off the floor and walking towards the elevator.

"Fuckin' uppies, how much do you weigh" Sam grunted while Bucky let out a sleepy yawn, his head resting on Steve's shoulder. Both men waited for you to open the door before helping him into bed.

"Wan cuddles" Bucky mumbled, reaching out for you to join him with his best pout.

"Okay I'm out, cuddles is where I draw the line" Sam playfully pushed you into Bucky's outstretched arms while Steve threw you a wink, both men softly closing the door behind them leaving you two alone.

"You want cuddles?" You whispered, squeaking when Bucky flipped you onto your back with ease, deciding to use you like a human pillow.

"Cuddles" He nodded, quickly falling asleep afterwards, blissfully unaware that Sam would never let him live this moment down.

[m00nkissedlover]

・｡Cat's First Snow ❄️

You've ordered: cookies and cream ice cream! enjoy!

"Twenty-four to twenty-five, bae. Just stay with me." (partly inspired by "24 to 25" by Stray Kids)

animagus! Regulus Black x reader | word count: 1,492 words

Summary: it snows at hogwarts! but, guess who hates the cold? ❄️ (silly little drabble)

Warnings: a bit of cursing (lighthearted)! not really warnings, but: reader's favorite season is winter, regulus takes the animagus form of a cat.

Note: i swear, i was giggling and kicking my feet writing this 🤭 yes, i'm reusing marauders/ skittles characters. again, i'm still getting caught up on marauders/ harry potter stuff in general. this fic is based on this post i made.

The courtyard grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were blanketed in a pillowy white layer of snow. Excitement emanated through the corridors and hallways of the school as students and faculty alike talked of taking pleasure in the wondrous winter display. Basically, everyone was ready for classes to end so they could go out and play in the snow.

Well...not everyone.

You see, your boyfriend, Regulus Black: he hated the cold. Hated with a capital H. Ever since he was a child, the Slytherin was never fond of the chilly weather of fall and winter, always wrapped to the nines in layers of sweaters and jackets. Not even a single wisp of cold air could touch him without him kicking up a fuss.

Obviously, this was a problem since you lived for the cold weather of winter. Getting to splurge on cute, fluffy sweaters, tins of flavored hot chocolate mix, and jars of various teas made your heart pound with joy. And of course, playing in the snow was just as fun.

"Boys versus girls snowball fight in ten minutes!" Evan yelled, throwing his scarf around his neck as he, Barty, and James made a mad dash down the hallway.

"Losers have to shove snow down their shirts!" Sirius chimed in, he and Remus following after the others.

"They're so immature." Pandora grumbled, rolling her eyes as she watched her brother run down the hallway like an idiot.

"I know right....But, we're winning the fight, right?" Marlene asked, nudging Dorcas in her side.

"Oh definitely." Dorcas responded, Lily giving them a thumbs up before looking around.

"Have any of you seen Y/n? I could've sworn they were just with us." Lily asked, the girls looking around in confusion.

Just where were you?

"Reg, please? It's not even that bad, I swear!" Oh, there you were, currently trying to persuade Regulus to come outside with you guys.

You knew it was a futile effort. He'd never agree.

"I don't care, I said I'm not coming." the stubborn Slytherin refused, tucking himself deeper into the blankets he had piled around him.

"You're being ridiculous."

"And what's so ridiculous about not wanting to freeze to death?" he quipped in a rather dramatic tone that made you bite back a laugh.

"Fine, I'll just go out myself. And have fun with the others..." you said, glancing over at Regulus to see if your words had affected him.

"Alright, have fun."

You frowned, getting up and buttoning up your jacket. "But even though I'll be with them, I'll still be a little...lonely. If only my boyfriend would come and keep me company...." Nothing.

"Y/n, I know what you're doing." he said, not even looking up from his book.

"Fuck you, Regulus Black." you groaned.

"Maybe after your snow day." he smiled to himself, knowing he got under your skin as he heard the door slam shut.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊

"Look at him, all warm and cozy, while we're all freezing our asses off." Evan huffed. You were all peering in through the window of the common room, watching a familiar black cat enjoying the comfort of the fireplace.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" barty whispered to you, a sly grin on his pierced lips.

"Absolutely." you nodded, giving him the same grin as the two of you slipped away from the group. Yoi waited in the corridor, peeking through one of the windows.

Barty quietly stepped into the room, the black cat now stretching out on the couch. The Crouch boy carefully tiptoed over to the couch, leaning over it and giving regulus a smile. "Hey Reg...don't hate me too much after this."

The cat equivalent of a scream was heard as Barty swiftly scooped up the poor feline, shoving him into his coat. You had to try your best not to burst into a fit of laughter, your hand slapped over your mouth and body shaking. You watched as Regulus hissed and reached out with clawed paws, trying to scratch at Barty, who was scrambling out the door and over to you.

"Damn, he put up a fight." Barty huffed, handing you the obviously unhappy cat.

"Thanks, Crouchy!" you smiled, now shoving Regulus into your coat. He let out a meow of protest as you ran down the hall and out the large double doors.

You could feel Regulus jerk in your arms as the cold air washed over his fur. You pulled him out of your coat, playfully swinging him in your arms. then he saw it: the pile of snow you were about to fling him into.

"3...2...1!" you yelled, tossing him into the pillowy white snow. A startled "mrow!" left the black cat's throat as he landed into it with a soft thud. He poked his head out, the snow on his head practically melting with how seething he was.

"Oh come on, Reg. Have some fun! Look-? Wait, where's Sirius?" Your question was answered as you saw Padfoot running over to the group and slamming into the pile of snow.

Laughter filled the air as Padfoot popped his head out and shook out his snow covered fur that resulted in Regulus getting covered in snow once again. Padfoot playfully nudged the angry cat, licking over his fur. You knelt down and gently scooped Regulus back up into your coat, planting a soft kiss onto his head, right between his ears. the look on his face said "I hate you" but in a "You're lucky I love you" way.

After hours of snowball fights, snow angels, and building snowmen, the sun was finally beginning to set on your wintertime activities. Yoi all made your way back inside, Regulus snuggly tucked into your coat and poking his head through your scarf. When you two arrived at his dorm, he hopped out of your arms and scurried into his closet. A few moments later, regulus walked out, wrapped in a blanket and shivering rather dramatically.

"Don't ever take me out in the cold again." he said through chittering teeth.

"But, wasn't that fun? At least you were warmer in your cat form, no?" you teased, walking over to him and cupping his face in your hands.

"Cold!" he yelped, jumping back from the frosty touch of your fingers. A smirk formed on your face as you looked at your hands, then back at your boyfriend.

"Y/n, don't-" you stepped closer to him, his eyes darting around the room.

"Y/n- AH!" you immediately charged at him, chasing him around the room as he desperately tried to avoid your freezing cold hands.

"Get over here!" you giggled, cornering him against his bed. you moved to straddle him, your thighs on either side of his waist.

"Wait, Y/n, please!" the poor boy pleaded, trying not to laugh at the determined look in your eyes.

"I can't hear you!" you teased, quickly slipping your hands underneath the blanket and pressing them to his sides.

"GAH!" The yelp that left his throat had you laughing till your throat was sore, Regulus grabbing your wrists to get you off of him.

"Ah! Please, have mercy!" Regulus mumbled weakly, a shiver running through his whole body as you leaned closer to him, that ridiculous smirk still on your face.

"Want me to help you warm up?" you whispered, your warm breath wafting over his lips that twitched in response.

"I guess..." Regulus mumbled, trying to fight the smile forming on his lips.

You smiled at his attempt to seem upset, leaning over and softly kissing his pouty lips. An audible "mmm" rumbled through his chest as he slowly forgot about the icy touch of your hands that were creeping up his bare sides and focused on the warmth emanating from your body and the kiss.

As you tilted your head to deepen the kiss, you felt Regulus sneak his hands underneath your shirt, pressing his semi-cold hands to your skin. You yelped softly into the kiss, pulling away to scold him.

"Mhm, how do you like them apples?" the dark haired male quipped, earning himself a playful pinching of his sides.

"How about we both get changed into more comfortable, warmer clothes and we can cuddle up together in the common room, hm? I'll even make you that tea you like so much." Regulus couldn't pass up that offer.

"I'll think about it." That ultimately meant yes, your lips now pressing to his nose before letting him go.

The rest of the night was spent in the common room, you and the others chatting the night away and laughing over steaming mugs of hot chocolate and freshly brewed tea. Regulus was practically glued to your hip, curled up under a blanket with you and letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

Even though he didn't like the cold, Regulus always felt all warm and fuzzy inside seeing just how happy you were whenever winter rolled around. ❄️

© m00nkissedlover, 2024