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therentyoupay · 1 month

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How would you write Elsa falling first? I absolutely adore your loser Jack pining after put together Elsa, but how would you reverse their roles?

i promise i promise i did not mean to write a one-shot for this. and i SWEAR it is ACTUALLY a one-shot. it is the OLD-SCHOOL definition of a one-shot, because i opened this ask and thought, aw, wouldn't it be cute if i just wrote a little tiny ficlet to illustrate an example of this scenario instead? and then out came 5,297 words. in one sitting. in ONE SHOT.

i would also like the record to show that i LOVED this challenge, i love trying out new scenarios or styles that subvert all the habits i've gotten myself into over the past decade or so!! thank you for this ask!! and, also, let the record show, that even as i wrote a full 5k+ of fic leading up to a "she falls first, he falls harder" scenario, i still couldn't quite hit the mark... in this case, i think it's open to interpretation as to whether she falls first, or they fall at the same time. 🤣 ENJOY. p.s. LOSER JACK?? LMAO WHAT IS THIS

“Watch your head—“

She ducked just in time, narrowly avoiding the churning of what appeared to be a factory conveyor belt gone awry. A tiny creature smaller than even a Norwegian Mountain Troll cried out in dismay as a cascade of nutcrackers fell into a sorting bin meant for what appeared to be that latest handheld gaming device—the Swap, or something.

Elsa grinned at the chaos surrounding her—little elves scolding one another, scurrying about—and wasn’t the slightest bit embarrassed to see the Pooka—Bunnymund—grinning in delight at her delight.

(I told you, his eyes seemed to say, as he gestured for her to continue ahead of him through the vast workshop chamber toward the office tucked away in the back. You wouldn’t regret it, if you came with me.)

Without giving him the satisfaction—yet—Elsa merely took in all the productivity around them, and let her gaze sparkle with the Wonder she knew was in them; dryly, she marveled, “It’s July.”

“Christmas doesn’t take holidays, mate,” Bunny winked. “Especially not here.”

Elsa stuck her courage to the sticking place as they approached the office—the door was slightly ajar. No matter what happens, Elsa inhaled and exhaled; you can always go back to Ahtohallan, to Antarctica.

You don’t have to stay here—with them.

Strengthened by this truth, Elsa squared her shoulders and softened her face into something curious and approachable as Bunny opened the door, not bothering to knock.

“OI.” Bunny stepped through the office, holding the door wide, which allowed Elsa to wait at the threshold—suspended between two worlds, two moments, two paths… perhaps two different lives.

“WHAT—Bunny, how many times I say, KNOCK, this program, it is DELICATE—“

“I got a delivery,” Bunny interrupted, and his whole body flinched at the look she gave him, “Er. I mean. I got someone here who you might wanna meet.”

And if Elsa had known then what she knew now, she would have realized in that moment (when North laid eyes on her that July evening in the middle of his work on the newest rollout of the popular role-playing video game—the Sums, or something) that, truly, the future was always in motion, her path already treaded, and—despite all her beliefs, her past, her heartbroken memories—her heart was already preparing to have two homes.

Elsa had visited plenty of warm—tropical, arid, sweltering—and chaotic, sprawling places in her travels, but none quite compared to the utter bustle of the Workshop.

Over the next three weeks of her stay, Elsa grew accustomed to the factory’s noises, to the bickering between the elves and their strange adoration for her, to the yeti’s curious questions about her years at the south pole. They asked relentless questions about the melting ice caps, the fierce predators, and the tiny human-made stations; she answered them as best she could, having wandered Antarctica for only half a decade before Bunnymund happened to find her at the tip of Cape Adare. When she tried to explain that she was much more familiar with the Arctic, they listened politely, but they were clearly much less interested in land so close to home. They also had the strangest custom of bringing her icicles when they returned from their perimeter patrols; she was growing quite a large collection of them in the guest room in the Main House.

The others—called Guardians, she learned—flitted in and out of this headquarters at seemingly all times of day.

Sandy was shocked and delighted to see her again; they’d run into each other just once during the late 1940s, and only when Elsa was passing through a city—Barcelona, if Memory served—to familiarize herself with the changing of the times as quickly as possible.

Sandy made no delay in giving her a much more insightful tour of the Workshop than North’s exuberant one had been, which had focused rather on not-so-subtle hints at how wonderful a life it was to be a Guardian, and such wonderful news it was to hear that Elsa was intrigued by Bunnymund’s offer to meet them, and so wonderful that Elsa had been spending all these years doing all that she could to explore the wonders of the world.

(North was lovely, and welcoming, and fierce—and so boisterous!

And not subtle at all.)

After a few days of visiting the Workshop, Elsa grew comfortable enough to truly relax as she roamed its halls, visited the various stages of production, and occasionally caught up with Bunny as he flitted in and out of the Shop (“Easter is on Holiday!” he’d said, with another wink). She dined with North and his team of merry workers, often with Bunny, who, she learned, was rather too fond of eggnog, and sometimes with Sandy as well.

After only a few hours into Sandy’s first visit, Elsa allowed herself to laugh with her whole chest at the ridiculous antics, the absurdity of it all, the bickering among Sandy, and North, and Bunny—and allowed herself to be endeared by the clear respect they held for one another, by the lightness in the air, the distinct sensation of family. That night, Elsa didn’t immediately retreat to her room after dinner, as she normally would have.

The Memories were not so painful, here.

And their stories!

They regaled her each night over (and after) dessert—about this horrid creature named Pitch Black, about the Moon, about the Battle of Burgess—they all sounded like fairytales to Elsa, even if she, herself, had practically been living in one for nearly two hundred odd years.

The others told her of two other coalition members who fought beside them—both of whom were exceptionally busy, and who would not be journeying to the North Pole again until it was time to celebrate the Equinox.

Elsa was curious about Toothiana—and anxious, about the Memories she protected—and especially curious about the Guardian named Jack…

Frost.

She did not shy away from asking more about him—Elsa had far too little time to worry about such silly fears like embarrassment; immortality was funny like that—and her curiosity grew with each tale she heard. The Guardians spoke of Jack with a mix of fondness and exasperation—his mischievous nature, his loyalty, how bloody annoying he is, I tell ya, that’s what I say.

Elsa could not help but laugh at Bunny’s pervasive frustration with his teammate; his respect for Jack was clear, even if his patience was not.

Still… she had been wandering the world for over 200 years, and in all that time, she had never encountered any others like her, and certainly not anyone especially like her.

The thought of meeting someone who might understand, who might have powers like hers, stirred something deep within her— something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

She caught Bunny staring at her in the midst of a reverie by the fire during an after-dinner coffee, so she crisply declared, “Don’t say it.”

“What’s that, Ice-pop? Sorry, couldn’t quite hear you over all of that Hope in your heart.”

Bunny, Elsa learned, was used to ducking snowballs.

Later that evening, as she stood by one of the desperately-tall windows in the corridor leading to her guest quarters—watching the snowflakes drift lazily from the sky—Elsa couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to actually meet him.

The thought of Jack—a potential ally? a friend? a teammate?—occupied her mind more and more as the days passed, and with each story the Guardians told, Elsa found herself hoping that this Jack Frost—a teacher? a guide? a confidant?—would be looking forward to meeting her, too.

Sometimes, late at night, she would lie awake and wonder what it would be like to have someone in her life who understood her powers as deeply as she did. She imagined his face, always in motion, always just out of reach, and felt a strange sense of—Hope? Elsa rolled her eyes at the ceiling. Anticipation? Perhaps.

Fear?

In these quiet moments, she found her spirit reaching out, as if she could almost call to him—but of course, he was completely out of reach, never having met her before, and likely, perhaps, not even knowing that she existed until only recently... But her heart would quicken at the idea of meeting this person like her, of seeing his eyes—what color?—filled with the same understanding, the same longing for connection that she felt.

What would he think of her? Would he see the strength she had built over centuries? Or would he only see the loneliness that still clung to her, despite all her efforts to cast it aside?

The questions swirled in her mind, mingling with a strange sense of exhilaration that made her feel both alive and vulnerable.

She could almost hear the laughter they might share, the way their powers could dance together in the air, creating something beautiful, something new.

And in those moments, she couldn’t help but smile, imagining a world where she wasn’t alone, where someone else could stand beside her in the snow, not as an adversary—

But as an equal.

“And did he wield ice magic as a human, as well?” Elsa pressed over after-dinner coffee in the drawing room, leaning forward in her chair near the fireplace. North’s giant hands were absurdly large compared to his delicate teacup. “Before he became a Guardian?”

“As a matter of fact—no. The power came later, AFTER Turning.”

Elsa considered his words carefully. Something about his expression seemed rather cagey; centuries of reading strangers’ faces had only honed her political prowess, which had been born out of survival as much as any sense of duty.

“North, tell me: why do you want me to join the Guardians?”

“I—ah! ELSA—

“Because ya’d be mighty good at it!” Bunny blurted, calling over from his newspaper reading on the other side of the drawing room, to North’s indignant sputtering, “if you wisened up and stopped hiding all Hope and Wonder!” And then, as an afterthought, “And it’ll keep Jack humble, I reckon!”

“ASTER!” North scolded fiercely, but he set the tiniest teacup down with the tiniest clink and placed the saucer on the coffee table with such deliberate care, even in his fit of anger, that Elsa couldn’t hold back a small, genuine smile.

“Dont’cha worry, Ice-Pop,” Bunny told her later, as they stood in the wide, cold corridor leading into the main entry chamber of the Workshop, where Bunny preferred to open his portals. Elsa quirked a brow at him, and he chuckled. “We’re not here to actually convince ya. We just want you to see that there’s another option. This Choice… well. Guardians gotta make it for themselves.”

She still had too many questions. How is it that I had never crossed paths with any of you but Sandy, before?

How is it that I have managed to avoid Pitch for all these years?

Why me? What can I really offer—when you already have someone who can already do what I do?

“You still have time before you have to decide. And you need to meet the rest, anyway. Just think about it, is all,” he said, all his wisdom seeping into the very air around them. He cracked open a portal and, a moment later, he was gone.

“Oh!” said an utterly beautiful creature, her wings fluttering with so much excitement and delight that she was practically vibrating. “You must be Elsa!”

Elsa and Toothiana took to one another with surprising ease; time had steadied Elsa’s heart, had taught her the patience and endurance and the strength of a glacier; time had energized Toothiana, who took charge of the world with her vast army and a wide smile. But it had been so long since Elsa had even felt anything remotely similar to the feel of holding onto her sister—and Toothiana understood, completely.

Toothiana shared stories of her own—a whirlwind of adventures collecting memories and moments, each one a treasure she held dear.

(Toothiana's eyes softened as she took Elsa's hands in her own, her understanding gentle yet firm. "I know what it’s like to carry the weight of Memories, Elsa," Toothiana whispered, her voice a comforting balm. "But here, with us, you don’t have to carry them alone. We’re all in this together, and we’ll help you find your way.”)

And Elsa found herself starting to believe her.

To Believe in them.

When the Guardians gathered around the fire—taking time, they said, to ensure that past mistakes were never repeated, that they carved out time for themselves the way they never used to—the conversation inevitably turned to their adventures, to answering Elsa's questions. Somehow, Jack always seemed to be at the center of their tales.

She was rather alarmed to realize the extent to which she had begun to wait for these moments, eager to hear more about Jack, piecing together an image of him in her mind that was as elusive as snowflakes on the wind. Why on earth does not a single Guardian commission a portrait, for goodness’ sake? But Elsa dared not ask for a Memory; apparently, there were still some things left worth being too embarrassed to ask for, after all.

So she contented herself with the way Sandy would add details to the story that the others had forgotten, conjuring up glowing scenes of Jack’s playful antics in vague, golden sand—flurries of snowflakes, intricate frost patterns on windows, and the gleeful laughter of children echoing through the air.

She would find all their efforts rather suspicious… if they weren’t all being so utterly obvious about their Hopes.

Thus, one evening, as they were all gathered around the fire, Elsa couldn’t help but ask, “How did Jack become a Guardian?”

Bunny’s keen eye sharpened upon her cheek; she withstood the scrutiny, allowing him no further entry to her mind, as he added, “Jack was chosen by the Moon, like the rest of us.”

“But Jack…” Toothiana’s voice was soft and somber and unusually serious; the atmosphere in the room shifted, its axis tilting ever so slightly. “He had a harder time accepting it. At first! That is.”

“Took him a while to figure out, is all,” Bunny held his boomerang up to the light, checking the polish. “He came around, eventually.”

“Why?” Elsa asked, genuinely curious.

Sandy floated closer, his golden sand forming an image of a young boy standing alone in the snow, his face a mixture of confusion and sorrow. The image flickered, and the boy’s expression shifted to one of determination and hope.

“Not easy for Jack, his Turning was,” North said, his voice softening. “Not easy for any of us… But Jack had no Memories of his past, no knowledge why he was Chosen. It wasn’t until centuries after his Turning that he found his center.”

“His center?” Elsa echoed, intrigued.

“FUN!” North boomed, smiling, and sending teacups clattering everywhere. Elsa clutched her saucer with both hands. “But not just ANY fun—bringing joy and wonder to children, making them BELIEVE in magic and in themselves. THAT is Jack’s true power!”

Elsa considered this as Bunny complained about dropping his boomerang polish and spilling it all over the carpet. Toothiana was laughing at him and offering to help in equal turns, as Elsa’s mind turned over the implications of centers—and Jack’s in particular. She had spent so long searching for her own purpose, her own… center? Do I have one? As well? Is that why Bunny had found her, out alone at the edge of the iceberg, at the exact moment when she had let it all go, had accepted that she may never find her purpose, that perhaps she did not have one—was that the moment that they had been waiting for?

And now, here in this team, Elsa might soon meet someone who had also once struggled with the same questions, who had found his answers in the most unexpected ways… It makes me, dare I say it… Wonder...

She glanced at the Guardians, each of them so sure of their place, their role in the world, with all their quirks and their trust and their happiness. They had found their centers, their reasons for being. And Jack—this mysterious figure who was off wreaking havoc in some apparently historic winter season in New England—had somehow found the same. She wanted to know more about this spirit who had lived in solitude for so long, who had found a family among these remarkable beings, and who wielded the same icy power she did, yet in a way so different from her own—or, at least, so they thought. Nobody could quite seem to explain to her the exact mechanics of it all.

The more she heard about him, the more she felt a growing need to meet him. She caught herself imagining what their first meeting might be like—whether he would be as mischievous as they said, or if they would take a liking to one another right away, bonded by their similar powers, their similar stories… Perhaps he might help her make sense of… all this? Maybe there was something in him that could help her understand herself better. Maybe he could be… another friend? An ally. A partner. Elsa did not care about the name; what mattered was only that they could learn from each other.

But still. She could not quite deny that her excitement at the chance of meeting him was, perhaps, a bit more complicated than all that.

“I still don't understand. You already have someone whose powers are like mine,” Elsa pointed out reasonably, just when the others had started to turn the conversation to simpler matters. “How could I possibly contribute?”

Bunny barked with laughter from the other side of the circle, over the recipe book he was now reading, preparing for their grand dinner to celebrate the Autumnal Equinox. Sandy giggled in golden, sparkling shimmers. North’s laughter was as reassuring as it was alarming.

“ELSIE, my dear,” North boomed as he strode closer to the wing-backed chairs that Toothiana and Elsa were hoarding by the fire, just under the wide window of the central tower, which overlooked the northern tundra. “It is not about powers alone! It is CENTERS.”

“And besides!” Bunny called out over his recipe book, adjusting his reading glasses over the bridge of his twitching nose. She could feel his cheekiness from the other side of the room, but Elsa was particularly amused by the way Toothiana’s whole body tensed up in preparation for Bunny’s antics. “You’re the better deal on both fronts, anyway!”

Toothiana scolded him for the next five minutes but hardly put any real fire into it, and North’s voice echoed throughout the study (“Now, now, Bunny—Jack has only been with us for two years now—and he has done SPLENDID job—“), and Sandy had already fallen asleep in his preferred winged-back chair by the fire, lulled into a nap by the comforting sound of his fellow Guardians arguing over something utterly ridiculous.

Late that night, as Toothiana hastily prepared for departure and her return to her endless work, she caught Elsa by surprise.

“We’ll understand if you would rather return,” Toothiana was gracious, so considerate in her efforts to not step on painful Memories, to not push Elsa too hard or too fast, too soon. “We recognize that this choice, this Oath, is not for everyone. But we hope you’ll consider it.”

Elsa nodded, appreciating the understanding in Tooth's eyes, though she couldn’t quite find the words to express it. The kindness and patience offered—by all of them—made her feel both comforted and conflicted; this was a choice she had to make for herself, but knowing she wouldn’t be judged either way brought a small measure of peace.

Toothiana let out a knowing smile that Elsa didn’t quite understand.

Two days before the Autumnal Equinox, the North Pole was strangely quiet; all others were out and about and attending to their centers, preparing their final tasks before they would all meet for the celebration, here in North’s home.

She thus found herself wandering the hallways alone, her footsteps echoing softly against the stone floor, thinking of the word home, and how it had changed for her over the years—first, her kingdom; then, her sister; then, the secrets that lay in the depths of Ahtohallan, and then nowhere at all.

What was home?

She paused in front of a large, intricately carved door she hadn’t noticed before. There was something inviting about it, something that called to her curiosity. Without thinking, she reached out and pushed it open, stepping into a room bathed in a soft, ethereal glow.

The room was a gallery of sorts, filled with shelves upon shelves of intricate snow globes, each one containing a different scene—some of them cheerful, others serene, and a few that looked like they were mid-snowstorm. Elsa moved closer, her breath catching as she realized what she was seeing. Each snow globe was a memory—not one of Toothiana’s collections of course, but rather, a moving picture—a small clip of some film, captured in glass and suspended in time.

She reached out to touch one that was particularly beautiful—a snow globe depicting a small village blanketed in fresh snow, children playing and laughing as they built snowmen and threw snowballs. The scene was so vivid, so real, that she could almost hear their laughter.

“Beautiful, no?” a voice said softly from behind her.

Elsa turned to see North standing in the doorway, a fond smile on his face as he watched her.

“They’re not Memories,” Elsa whispered, more to herself than to him. “They’re… Reminders.”

“Yes. They help with the Wonder, of course.”

Elsa couldn’t move her gaze away from the glass again. “Whose are they?”

North stepped into the room, his presence filling the space with genuine warmth, with joy. “They belong to all of us. The children, the Guardians… and a few others.”

He gestured to a shelf on the far wall, where a single snow globe sat, slightly larger than the others. It depicted a lone figure standing in the middle of a frozen lake, surrounded by a dense forest. Snowflakes danced around him, but there was a sadness to the scene, a loneliness that tugged at Elsa’s heart. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch the glass.

“That one,” North said softly, “also belongs to Jack.”

Elsa’s breath caught. She had heard so much about him, yet she still knew so little. The thought of him, alone in this beautiful but desolate scene, stirred something deep within her.

Are you someone out there who's a little bit like me?

Who knows deep down I'm not where I'm meant to be?

“Yes, he’s been through much,” North continued, his voice gentle, washing over Elsa’s rapidly-blinking thoughts, through the strange swell of sadness that swam through her chest. “But he IS strong, and has found his place among us. Still, there are parts of him that are… sometimes, difficult to reach. Things that… perhaps… someone may help… heal?”

Elsa side-eyed him, beneath her lashes. “You are growing less subtle each day, I fear.”

His boisterous laugh told her he wasn’t deterred in the slightest.

“Elsa, when few more centuries you have, you too shall learn when to drop SUBTLETY. No?”

Haven’t I already? But she humored him with a smile instead.

“Whatever you decide—we will support you, your Majesty.”

Elsa’s smile slipped, without her meaning to. Throat thick, she whispered, “No one has called me by that title for a very long time.”

Her eyes pricked with tears as North stepped closer to her, looking down at her—the way her father used to. The way her father might have, had he lived long enough to see her step into her own power, at last.

“I do not call you Majesty because you were Queen, or Snow Queen; I say because I remind you that what you have, and what you are, at your center, is FULL of that which makes living so majestic. It is my sincere wish that—“ and Elsa inhaled at the strange expression that passed his face, the soft mix of hope and resignation all at once— “You will choose the Oath with your full heart.”

Elsa wanted to thank him, but she didn’t want to lie; before she could settle on the perfect breath of diplomacy, North patted her shoulder in reassurance, and left the gallery, leaving Elsa with all the Reminders that were not hers, but insisted she be strong, anyway.

She gazed into the large snow globe, at the figure standing alone on the frozen lake in the deep forest, and Wondered, truly, for the first time, This was also my past…

Will I also find my future here, too?

The Equinox arrived, at last. Elsa had fashioned herself a dress for the occasion, and the excitement buzzing through the Workshop was palpable—everywhere she turned, there were smiles and knowing glances exchanged between the elves and the yetis, as if they all shared a secret that she was just on the cusp of understanding, but not quite privy to.

Elsa did not startle at Bunny’s sudden entrance behind her, but it was a near thing.

“Stop twitching,” Bunny muttered as he sidled up beside her, at the window, where she was watching the horizon and waiting for the other Guardians to arrive. When she glanced up at him, she found his nose twitching in nervous anticipation. “Don’t overthink it, Ice-pop. Jack’s a handful, but he’s got a good heart.”

“Oh? No further jabs at your friendly foe?”

“Nah,” Bunny grinned. “Today, I’m on my best behavior. Scout’s honor.”

“You mean ‘Toothy’s honor’.”

“Aye, that too.”

She considered pointing out that his nose was equally twitchy, but she let it slide.

Elsa understood.

And that understanding grew as some of the Guardians started to all trickle in at once; Toothiana sent wide glances about and around the room upon her arrival, and later, as she fussed with the elves’ itineraries, kept catching Bunny’s eye when they thought Elsa was not looking; Sandy checked his watch repeatedly after greeting them all with warm, sandy hugs; perhaps he was conscientious of the time… and yet… North’s laughter was too loud to be completely genuine. Elsa was beginning to understand the true purpose of tonight, swiftly and deeply; this night was no mere dinner, and no simple introduction. Tonight was an audition. An interview.

A trial.

At this point, Elsa didn’t even mind the inquisition; she just wanted it to start.

The storm outside had been raging for over an hour, and yet there was still no sign of Jack. The wind howled, whipping snow into frenzied swirls that danced and spun against the windows of North’s Workshop. The Guardians stood by the large bay window, watching the tempest with a mixture of awe and concern. Elsa had seen far fiercer storms before… but seeing this storm here, now…?

Elsa didn’t know what to think.

“Where do you suppose he is?” Toothiana murmured, her wings fluttering nervously as she peered out at the swirling snow. “When I got off the globe with him a few hours ago, he’d been in a good mood! Do you think he got distracted along the way?”

Sandy nodded, his golden sand forming an image of a snowflake, delicate and intricate, before it dispersed into the air. North stroked his beard thoughtfully, his gaze never leaving the storm.

“Such a nuisance,” Bunny agreed, his ears twitching as he squinted into the whiteout. “But he’ll wear himself out soon enough. Let’s get started, shall we?”

“Perhaps we might,” North rumbled, his voice filled with a deep, resonant certainty. “Jack may wish to make GRAND entrance—”

Elsa stood slightly apart from the others while they discussed, her eyes fixed on the tempest outside. The storm’s power called to something deep within her, something she recognized and understood. She had created countless storms like this, back in her darker days, when her emotions had been a force she couldn’t control. Here, she’d wanted to be a good guest, so it had been a month since she’d truly put her powers to proper use, out in the relative safety of the deep Antarctic deserts. But this…

There was a wildness to it, a reckless abandon. This storm wasn’t about emotion. It was—it’s—

He’s playing!

Just as the words passed through her mind, a voice suddenly piped up behind them, casual and completely out of place in the loud, bustling, tense atmosphere.

“What are y’all looking at?”

The Guardians turned as one, startled by the unexpected intrusion. There, leaning against a large shepherd’s crook, was someone who could be none other than Jack Frost—his expression one of casual amusement as he took in the scene before him. He had somehow appeared without a sound.

The room, which had been brimming with anticipation, fell into a moment of stunned silence, then burst back into noise and life in the very next breath.

Elsa blinked, her heart still racing from the intensity of the storm and the weight of her expectations. But now, seeing Jack standing there, looking so nonchalant and distant, she didn’t know whether to laugh or feel disappointed. He was lean, with his staff slung over his shoulder, and there was an air of mischief about him, tempered by something darker, something cautious.

North was the first to fully recover, letting out a booming laugh that overpowered the other surprised voices in the room. “Jack, you never fail to surprise us! We were just admiring your WORK outside, no?”

Jack grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Oh, that? Yeah, just setting the mood.”

Bunny rolled his eyes, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re a menace, Frostbite. You know that?”

Jack shrugged, his grin widening. “Just doing my job.”

Elsa felt a strange mix of emotions as she watched the easy banter between Jack and the other Guardians. She realized, perhaps too late, that she had built up this moment in her mind, imagining a dramatic, powerful entrance that would define their first meeting. Instead, she was faced with the reality of Jack Frost: a mischievous, irreverent spirit who seemed to take very little seriously, including the storm he had unleashed.

It was at that moment—in her quiet evaluation, her unexplained disappointment, her curious, lingering hope—that Jack caught her gaze.

Blue.

The playful expression slipped away, just for a flash; his blue eyes met hers, and she saw something there amidst the lingering laughter—something raw and guarded, something that told her that, like her, he was grappling with his own mixed expectations.

For a fleeting moment, Elsa’s breath caught in her throat, not just from the intensity of his gaze, but from the unexpected warmth that spread through her, as if she’d been touched by a sudden gust of spring wind.

“Jack, Jack, my boy, come—meet Elsa! Our dear Elsa—this is Jack, our newest Guardian.”

Elsa’s heart leapt into her throat. The room seemed to hold its breath as Jack hesitated—and then he stepped forward, approaching them at the window; Elsa stood patiently at Bunny’s side, watching Jack’s tousled white hair catch the light of the whiteout outside, watching as his blue eyes deliberately scanned the decorations around the room.

Jack Frost… ?

Elsa waited, patient as a glacier as Jack’s smirking gaze flickered over the gathered Guardians as he reached them, and he saluted North with a deliberately careless air. His smirking gaze lingered on each of them before finally landing on hers.

“Yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you,” he replied. His tone was not unkind, but deliberately casual. “New Guardian, right? They’ve been talking about you non-stop.”

There was a hint of something sharp in his voice, and Elsa felt a pang of anxiety, which she pushed down; Bunny was covering his muttering face with his hand, and Toothiana was rolling her eyes to the ceiling in dismay—or perhaps prayer. Elsa quickly assessed the crisp stare and the hard line of his jaw; she’d been hoping for warmth, for understanding, but what she found in Jack’s gaze was something closer to suspicion.

Keeping her gaze on his, trying to ease the tension she could feel coiling between them, she softly corrected, “I’m not a Guardian.”

At least, not yet…

Or so I…

Elsa felt her chin raise; old habits falling back into place; perfect and pretty and polite, all smooth ice underneath; an effective mask for a Queen.

“I’m here on an invitation,” she said softly, and knew that he would not see the ice daggers in her eyes; not yet, although she was certain he was looking for them. “I’m very grateful to North and all of you for hosting me in honor of this autumnal celebration.”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

That is suspicion there, isn’t it? And guardedness… He was trying hard to hide something behind a facade of coolness—some debonair indifference. Elsa recognized the act immediately but played along because there was something else there, too, something that made her heart ache with a familiar loneliness. I’m an ally, she tried to impress upon him through nothing more than the thought. Enough of this!

I could be a friend!

But then, Toothiana swooped in, her wings fluttering with a cheerful energy that instantly distracted them—if not immediately lifting the mood.

“Well! Isn’t this just the perfect way to spend the Equinox?” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together, drawing their attention away from one another; Elsa was grateful for Toothiana’s quick thinking, her impressive tact. “Jack, I’m sure you’re energized and starving for a glass of eggnog after all that storm-making. Let’s not waste any more time!”

“Uh, did Bunny make it?”

“What’s it to ya, you little twerp?” Bunny shot back, narrowing his eyes with mock suspicion.

Jack grinned, the tension easing slightly as he fell into what must have been familiar banter. “Just making sure it’s safe, is all. Wouldn’t want our guest of honor to get sick on her first night here.”

“Actually, she’s been here for over a month now—“

Elsa watched the exchange (Jack was rolling his eyes) with a mixture of amusement and relief and… unease. (Toothiana’s interruption had indeed worked wonders, shifting the focus away from the awkwardness of their initial encounter and giving everyone, including herself, a chance to breathe.)

(And yet… the warmth of the room contrasted sharply with the chill still clinging to her thoughts.)

As they all moved toward the dining room, Elsa fell in step beside Toothiana, grateful for the other Guardians’ subtle (for once!) alliance and support. She marveled at how, even two centuries since her last political summit, Elsa still remembered every step of walking into a political negotiation; Elsa knew how to navigate delicate situations, how to read the subtlest shifts in tone, how to win.

Elsa had always been a fine Reader of the Room; centuries of invisibility had only strengthened her skills.

And so the Trial begins…

This first impression was a test—one she intended to pass.

And although Jack started to relax once they were all seated and well into the evening—his guarded expression giving way to something more genuine as he bantered with Bunny and teased North about his over-the-top decorations—the knots in Elsa’s stomach remained.

How could she make him see that she wasn’t here to replace him—but to find her own place among them?

The Guardians fell into their usual rhythm as they ate and laughed together, the conversation flowing (mostly) easily between them. Elsa, too, had found her own rhythm with the Guardians during her month-long stay, understanding certain inside jokes and the fascinating nuances of their personalities. But even as she joined in their laughter, the tension between her and Jack was palpable, thicker than the winter storm raging outside.

She observed how Jack's eyes flicked between her and the other Guardians, his smile not quite reaching his eyes as he noted instances of the easy familiarity she had developed with them over the previous weeks. He joked along with everyone else, but there was a sharpness to his tone, occasionally—and it seemed that all the other Guardians could clearly tell, even if they were choosing to ignore it with varying degrees of patience… and understanding.

Elsa could feel him measuring every word she said, every laugh she shared with the others. It wasn’t just that she was new or unfamiliar—it was that she had quickly become a part of something that Jack had spent years, perhaps centuries, building with them.

All of the Guardians’ assurances and encouragement over the past month had not hinted at the true nature of their concern; Elsa realized quite quickly that this rift wasn’t something that could be resolved with pleasantries or polite conversation.

Winning his trust wouldn’t come easily—it would demand more than just time; it would require something deeper.

Later that night, after everyone had retired to their quarters or gone out for their evenings of work, Elsa found herself wandering the halls of North’s Workshop, her mind a whirl of thoughts and emotions, as was her wont.

The evening had not exactly gone to plan, but she supposed it could have been worse. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Jack still viewed her as a threat. It bothered her more than she cared to admit. She’d need to discuss it with Toothiana tomorrow. Perhaps they might lend me a snow globe?

As she rounded a corner, headed toward the snow globe Reminder gallery, she nearly collided with Jack himself—who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. He was leaning casually against the wall, his staff resting on his shoulder, but there was a tension in his posture that belied his relaxed demeanor.

He’d been waiting for her.

“Jack,” she said, startled but keeping her voice steady; once more, familiar, old-fashioned patterns of politeness resurfaced in her moment of uncertainty. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her. “Could say the same about you. Can’t sleep?”

Elsa hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. “Just... thinking. It’s been a lot to take in.”

Jack nodded, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced. He pushed himself off the wall and took a step closer, his expression unreadable. “You know, everyone seems pretty excited about you joining us. North, Bunny, even Tooth—they all think you’d be a great addition.”

She could hear the ‘but’ hanging in the air, unspoken but heavy between them; the way addition sounded like replacement.

Elsa squared her shoulders, meeting his gaze head-on. There was an intensity in his eyes, a challenge that sent a shiver down her spine, though she quickly attributed it to the cold. “Jack, I’m not here to replace you.”

The words hung in the air, sharp and clear. For a moment, Jack’s expression flickered, something vulnerable and upset flashing in his eyes before he quickly masked it with a smirk. “Who said anything about that?”

“No one—listen to me, I know you’re worried,” Elsa continued, refusing to let him deflect. “But you have no need to be. I’m not here to take your place. I’m here because…” Why am I here? “I was invited. I am simply getting to know you all better. I’ve been alone for some time.”

“Spare me the politicking,” Jack huffed, which, indeed, Elsa did take offense to. Especially since she genuinely had not been trying to be diplomatic; just careful.

Perhaps he didn’t believe her story… about being alone?

The idea was more painful than she expected.

Elsa’s eyes narrowed slightly, holding Jack’s gaze. “I’m not here to play games, Jack. I’m just looking for where I might belong—that is all.”

“Will you take the Oath, then? What’s your center?”

Elsa couldn’t explain it, but this struck her as an absurdly personal question. Still. She could recognize a caged animal when she saw one. So, Elsa took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his question press down on her. The idea of the Oath, of finding her center, had been something she had pondered endlessly since she’d learned of its existence—perhaps since her arrival, if she was being honest. But to be confronted with it so directly by Jack, someone who still seemed to see her as a rival, made it all the more daunting.

“I’m not sure,” she finally admitted, her voice quiet but steady. “I’ve been... trying to understand what it would mean for me to take the Oath, to become a Guardian.” She willed him to understand, at last. “It’s not something I want to rush into without being certain.”

Jack’s gaze remained fixed on her, his blue eyes sharp, but there was a flicker of something softer there—a recognition, perhaps, of the honesty in her words. “And your center?” he pressed. “Do you even know what it is yet?”

Elsa hesitated again, her thoughts swirling. A long time ago, she had known who she was, what she was meant to do. She’d thought so.

But after everything she had been through, all the loss, the isolation, and the rediscovery, she wasn’t sure if her center was what it once had been.

“Perhaps I might have, once,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “But now... Regardless of whether or not I join you, I’d like to think that there is something at the core of why I am still here.”

“In the Workshop?”

“No, I mean… I mean here.”

Jack tilted his head, studying her with a mix of curiosity and caution. Something told her that she finally got through to him, just a little. Elsa felt herself feeling sympathy for him; even after becoming a Guardian, he was still filled with such…

Fear.

Doubt.

He didn’t respond immediately, his expression unreadable. For a brief, startling moment, she wondered what it would be like to stand by his side, to take the Oath together—as allies, as... something more?

She brushed the thought aside, but the idea lingered, persistent.

Then, finally, he let out a small, almost reluctant sigh. “It’s not easy, you know. Being a Guardian. Finding your center. It’s... it’s not something you just, like, stumble upon.”

“I understand,” Elsa said, her tone sincere. “But if there’s a chance that this is where I’m meant to be—then I’m willing to take that risk. I’m not interested in taking that away from you. You—you haven’t even seen what I can do yet! We don’t even know how much overlap we’d find in our powers, anyway!”

“You impressed Bunny in Antartica,” he practically accused. “That’s enough to say something, isn’t it?”

Elsa was trying her very best to remain steady and calm. “And what about you? What did it take for you to find your center?”

His eyes snapped back to hers, and for a moment, she saw something raw and unguarded in his gaze. “So they didn’t tell you everything, huh?”

She gaped at him. Honestly!

Elsa took a deep breath, steadying herself as she met Jack's gaze. "Jack, you’re being ridiculous. I’m not here to steal anything from you—certainly not your place among the Guardians. I haven’t even decided if—I don’t know if—“

“I already know you’re gonna join us,” he said, almost in a whisper, as if admitting something he hadn’t wanted to face.

“Oh?” Elsa raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious. “And what makes you so sure?”

Jack hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching hers, and then, with a passion she hadn’t expected, he replied, “Because there’s nothing better. There’s nothing like it. It’s everything.”

Elsa was stunned by the raw intensity of his words, the conviction in his voice. She could see it in his eyes—this was more than just a responsibility, more than just a role for him. It was his purpose, his identity—his life, or whatever this agelessness was. For a moment, the air between them seemed to crackle with something unspoken, a deep understanding that went beyond words.

She felt her heart skip a beat, a strange mixture of emotions swirling within her—curiosity, admiration, and something else, something unfamiliar. Her pulse quickened.

Jack seemed to realize the weight of his words, and he quickly looked away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Wait. I... I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting,” he said, his voice softer now, more hesitant. “I guess I’ve been... on edge, and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.”

Still shocked by how deeply his declaration affected her, how his passion stirred something within her that she hadn’t felt in a long time, Elsa softened at his apology, nodding slightly. “I… understand. And I accept your apology. I appreciate… you saying that. I’m sure it wasn’t easy to come home and see someone new in the middle of it all.”

Elsa thought she heard him laugh under his breath, mouthing the word Home—

Jack nodded, his shoulders relaxing just a bit. “Yeah... it is. Anyway. I’m tired. I think I’m gonna call it a night.”

Elsa watched him start to turn away, a sudden sense of urgency bubbling up inside her. “Jack, wait—”

He paused, glancing back at her, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. They were so wide, when they weren’t glaring!

“Shouldn’t we start over?” she asked, her voice gentler, almost tentative in her rush. She extended her hand toward him. “My name is Elsa. I happen to wield ice magic. E. Aster Bunnymund found me on an iceberg a few weeks ago as I was in the middle of creating a particularly notable blizzard, and he invited me to meet his friends, whom he loves and respects very much.”

Jack looked at her hand, then back at her face, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. Slowly, a smirk crawled over his face.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” Jack floated closer, and Elsa held steady—stories or no stories, she had not been prepared to see him fly! “I’m Jack. I also happen to ‘wield’ ice and frost magic. Bunny did not find me on an iceberg, but I’m pretty sure he’d love to stick me in one. Nice to meet you, Elsa, who promises not to steal my spot on the A-team. Welcome to the madness,” and he reached out and took her hand in his, giving it a firm shake.

The moment their hands touched, a strange, electric current seemed to pass between them, and Elsa felt her breath hitch in her throat.

Oh—

He’s—he’s rather handsome, she realized with a start.

They held each other’s gaze for a moment longer than necessary, the air between them thick with something she could not, would not name.

Jack was the first to break the silence, his voice a little rougher than before. “Yeah... maybe we should—”

They let go of each other’s hands, but the sensation of his touch lingered, warm and unsettling. Elsa felt a flush creep up her cheeks, unsure of what to make of the emotions swirling inside her.

“Uh—goodnight, Elsa."

“Goodnight, Jack,” she replied, her voice steadier than she felt.

And with that, he turned and disappeared back into the shadows of the corridor, leaving Elsa standing alone in the soft glow of the snow globe gallery. She watched him go, a mix of hope and uncertainty swirling in her chest. The conversation had been difficult, but it had also been a step forward—a tentative, fragile step toward something more. Right?

As she turned back to her quarters, Elsa found herself tracing the line of his smirk in her mind, the curve of his jaw, the sharpness of his eyes—after weeks of wondering about what he might look like, might be like, she finally had the vision, the Memory of his face.

She rushed with the ornate door handle of her guest room, eager to be inside her room, alone, in the peace and quiet, and finally process the events of the evening, to reflect on all that she'd learned, she'd accomplished, she'd proved.

Exhausted by the sheer weight of so many careful decisions in so short a time, Elsa closed the door behind her with a deep sigh. Exhausted, yes, but also satisfied. She shut her eyes as she leaned against the back of the door and allowed herself a small, tentatively victorious grin, content in the knowledge that when she drifted off to sleep that night, the echoes of their meeting, their tentative truce would fill her mind; this moment gave her, indeed, a sense of Hope that she hadn’t felt in years...

But, in her mind, the Memory that lingered most vividly, as she tossed and turned—was his face.

ao3 ✨

#08192024 update #fixed some typos!!! some missing italics representing thoughts which i think tumblr ate!!!#jelsa #sanfangirl-cynicalromantic #I LOVE YOU LADY THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL OF YOUR SUPER THOUGHTFUL ASKS #therentyoupay two homes #therentyoupay fic #therentyoupay fic prompts #therentyoupay ask #ngl it's also so good for me to just write one-offs and ficlets and prompts every once in a while!!#A PALLTETTE CLEANSERRR #also spoiler alert if jack is not pining then ELSA IS THE ONE PINING LMAO

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wintermarmalade · 7 months

Text

"Finally!" She spun around in her chair, making a couple full rotations before facing towards her doll. "I've finished work early today for once, so let's do something fun! What do you wanna do?"

"I want to fulfill the tasks you assign me" It stated simply.

"Well, yes, I know what you want to do for me, but what do you want to do... for you?"

Do something for myself? It had never been asked that before. It spent a few moments recalling things that made it feel good, many memories of successfully completing tasks and her masters being appreciate came to mind. "I want to be useful" It concluded.

"Is that all? You've never wanted anything else?"

"I cannot recall ever enjoying anything else."

She gave it a doubtful, but thoughtful look, "Well... I command you to pick an activity for us." She said with a coy smile.

It wanted to complete tasks... to be useful.... what task could it choose for itself that would be useful?

"I would like to learn how to help you make your clockwork trinkets."

"Hmmm, alright!" Perhaps teaching would be more fun than doing it on her own, she thought. "Come watch, and please ask as many questions as you would like." She beckoned as she grabbed a tall stool and set it next to her desk for her doll.

It was not used to being able to speak so freely, but it trusted her. It climbed up onto the stool and watched with amazement as Magdeline fit so many tiny parts together and explained how they moved without any magic. She talked about it all so fluidly, and was so patient with all of her doll's basic questions, no matter how silly it thought they were.

When she was finished, it realized she had made a small, clockwork rabbit! Just big enough to fit in her palm. She wound it up, and it began to shake it's whiskers and hop forward, every third hop doing a flip! It watched the toy creature in awe, unaware of how big the smile on it's face was. It's smile quickly faded as it realized it was reaching the end of the table, about to jump off.

"Quick! catch it!" It said with a genuine urgency, just a bit louder than it's normal voice.

"Hold on, just watch." Mags reassured.

The clockwork rabbit stopped right at the edge of table, then turned around and kept hopping! It couldn't help but laugh, as it couldn't believe Mags made this little creature do so much without magic, she must be the smartest person in the universe it thought.

Mags laughed with her, this was the first time she had seen her doll so much as smile, much less laugh at anything. It was an adorable, precious laughter. She spent a moment just admiring the sound of it's voice and it's joyful facial expressions before it noticed and turned to her attention, as if waiting a command.

"Oh! I didn't have a request or anything, I just didn't know you could laugh, it was wonderful."

"W-Wonderful? What... what do you mean? If... I may ask."

"What do you mean what do I mean?" She teased, "It just made me happy to hear."

She was weird, not like any of the masters it had had before. Why would she care about what her doll felt?

"That is... strange. I'm sorry, I don't understand." It said timidly.

"It's okay, you don't have to right now." She assured it with a gentle pat on it's head. "Now, I'd love to see you try to make your own trinket, if you're ready."

The doll's face lit up again and gave an excited nod, ready to keep tinkering.

#empty space #empty spaces #writing #dollposting #dolls #Mags&Dahlia

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 7 months

Note

Hey headmage, remember the Tsums that came to school...twice? Well...look at this

*shows Crowley Tsum in hands*

What should we do?

Enter; An Unkindness of Ravens.

“Oh my, if it isn’t a mini-me!!” Crowley exclaimed. He excitedly scooped up his Tsum self from you, marveling at the strange creature. "Salutations, mini-me!"

The bean-shaped being perfectly fit in the palm of his hand. It matched his dress in every way, from the mask to the feathered cape and crisp suit and tie, all crowned off by a top hat on a mop of dark, loose waves. Bright yellow eyes blinked up at the new onlooker.

"Fufu, look at how handsome it is!" Crowley gushed, scratching the Tsum behind a tiny pointed ear. The Tsum shook with happiness and leaned into his finger. "But of course, anything made in my likeness is sure to be brimming with the same charm as I!"

“It fell from the sky and bonked me on the head while I was walking up the path to Ramshackle,” you explained. “It was right after got back from grocery shopping at Mister S's Mystery Shop and the Tsum started to go through my..."

"Aren't you an adorable thing! Yes you are!" Crowley's voice had taken on a high pitch--the sound of a doting parent to an infant or a beloved pet. "I'll bet you're as gracious as you are cute! Cootchie cootchie coo!"

"Um, headmaster? Headmaster? Hello-oooo, are you paying attention to anything I'm saying?"

"Hmm, what?" Crowley startled, registering you for the first time since entering his office. His tone, suddenly dismissive. "Yes, yes, I am listening and taking your report very seriously, Prefect!"

"Great, so you'll take it off my hands for me. it's been a real troublemaker, and I don't know if I can deal with and everything else on my plate."

"A troublemaker? This little fellow? Preposterous! Why, he wouldn't cause trouble for anyone." Crowley patted the Tsum on its head (which blended with its rounded body). It seemed to smile at him, bouncing in place. "Perhaps you might be able to assist me with my oh-so important administrative work? There are some documents that need to be reviewed and signed."

He lowered the Tsum, allowing it to hop onto his desk, where a few papers laid. You watched in silence as the Tsum explored its new surroundings. Poking, bouncing, prodding. His inkwell, the quill.

Anything but the documents—which went completely ignored.

The Tsum turned away, disinterested. It preoccupied itself with taking in the shininess of a nearby candelabra.

You raised an eyebrow at Crowley. It really is exactly like him.

"I-I'm sure he's taking his time! What matters is the quality of work produced, not the quantity nor how quickly is it completed!"

As he protested, the Tsum padded to the edge of the desk and stared over its edge. Then it tipped over, diving into an open desk drawer. The Tsum's rump stuck up in the air, happily wiggling as it swam in a sea of wrapped cookies and candies.

The headmaster let out a distressed squawk. "W-Wait, don't go in there! That's my top-secret snack stash...!!"

He yanked the Tsum out by a stubby foot, dangling it like a ragdoll. A macaron was in the Tsum's grasp, rapidly vanishing into its nonexistent mouth as if being sucked in by a vacuum. Crowley's eyes bulged.

"I tried to warn you," you shrugged. "It finished a whole loaf of bread from my groceries before I fished it out. Speaking off..." You extended a hand, palm up. "I'll need more monthly allowance to replace that bread."

His jaw dropped. Not at your misfortune, you suspected, but at the idea of having to shell out more money.

"Wh-What! Why must I be responsible for such a thing when I'm not responsible for the damage to begin with!?"

"You called it a 'mini-me'," you pointed out, "so take some responsibility for 'yourself' and make things right."

"I-I know I may have said that on impulse, but upon closer inspection... In what way does a Tsum that acts carefree, shirks work, and stuffs his face resemble me?!"

Uh, in every way...

"In any case, I am far too busy with my duties as headmaster to put aside time to monitor this hooligan," Crowley declared. The Tsum writhed in his hold, reminding you of a pathetic worm speared on a hook. "However, it happens that I know of a proven beast tamer who is perfectly suited to keeping him in check!"

His gaze settled on you, and your stomach sank.

Crowley grinned, approaching you and placing the Tsum on your shoulder. It immediately nuzzled up to you, nestling in the crook of your neck.

"I'm counting on you, Prefect!" he chirped, giving a strong, encouraging pat on your back. "My expectations for my students are quite high, and you are certainly no exception to that rule~"

Typical kiss-ups, both the Tsum and the real Crowley.

#twisted wonderland #twst #Dire Crowley #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Two Ravens at the Writing Desk #self insert #Reader #Yuu

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yourlittlebunnyy · 15 days

Text

cherry tart

main masterlist - azriel masterlist - prologue

you can read this alone, but also as part of a court of shadows and darkness!

summary: Selaene meets Azriel's mom.

warnings: none

w/c: 1.4k

enjoy!

"Azzie, I'm so scared" Selaene shakes her mate's hand, well-almost mate.

Presently they stand in front of a humble wooden door. In front of the small cottage located in Rosehall. In front of the house of Azriel's mother.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. She is going to love you." He smiles gently at her, his tone quiet in an attempt to calm the Fae beside him. He points to the door with his chin. "Whenever you're ready." Selaene bites her lip anxiously. In one hand she firmly holds a tart she made with her mother's help. Well, actually all the work was done by her mother. She has been sitting on the counter watching her and occasionally stealing food from her. A cherry tart. According to the Azriel, it is his mother's favorite. "All right." She takes a deep breath and detaches her hand from her mate's, bringing it before the door. "I'm ready."Azriel silently admires her. He won't tell her, but it is her behavior that is filling his heart with joy. Of course he has no taste for seeing her nervous, but he finds it adorable how she is worrying about making a good impression with her mother. Selaene meets his gaze one last time before the door opens, and her beloved's lips ripple into an encouraging smile.The female in front of them, Azriel's mother, is a stunning Fae, the young woman thinks.

The first thing she recognizes in her are the same hazel eyes as her mate. And the smile. The female smiles fondly at her, just as Azriel always smiles at her. She is a beautiful creature. Delicate.

"Hello, Selaene!" She greets her warmly, opens her arms, inviting the young female to come closer. Azriel's heart rumbles in his chest at seeing the two most important females in his life clutching each other.

"Hello!" She reciprocates the greeting with equal warmth, her nerves slightly jolted by her mother's incredible ability to make her feel at ease.

"Hi, Mom." Azriel greets her. They, too, hug quickly.

"Oh, but how rude to keep you in the cold, come in!" She follows the female inside the house. It is tiny as she expected, but it is cozy. It reminds her of her own. They walk through the living room warmed by a burning fireplace and arrive at a small kitchen and dining room.

As soon as she enters, a delicious scent invades her nostrils. She sees Azriel smiling and wonders if whatever his mother is cooking doesn't remind him of his own adolescence.

"Selaene made you your favorite cake." His mate says, making the female's cheeks blush. The mother, who had remained silent until then, smiles at her again with the same warmth as before.

"You are lovely, Selaene." The young female lowers her gaze in bewilderment for a moment. Once recovered, she hands her the dessert. The mother grabs it and sets it on a counter. "Thank you very much, honey. You guys take your seats. It will be ready soon." The female turns and watches her stir something in a pot. She has no idea what she is cooking, but the smell makes her mouth water.

Azriel moves behind her to move a chair. Selaene, still racked with agitation, whispers a feeble thanks as she sits down. Her mate sits beside her and when he notices that she continues to play nervously with her skirt, he grabs her hand and entwines it with his.

He says nothing to her, avoiding embarrassing her further, but his look is worth a thousand fears. Selaene takes a deep breath, just as she has done a thousand other times, and even if only slightly, she calms down.

"Have you prepared the lamb?" Azriel asks her mother, trying to open a light conversation.

"Sure." The female giggles and turns to Selaene's mate. "You know, it's always been her favorite dish." Selaene smiles at her.

"Really?" She asks feigning surprise. She was actually already aware of it, but it seems rude to her to admit it. The mother nods, a smile lighting up her face.

Silence fills the room as dishes are filled. Azriel sits his mother down as he himself stands up, removing his hand from his mate's, to go and return the empty pot to the sink.

"You know," his mother begins. His mate returns to his seat, rolling his eyes, "He's told me a lot about you. And he does that," she points with a fork at Azriel, "because he knows it's true."

A resolve gently shakes her shoulders, infecting that of the two Fae as well. "I hope only good things." Jokes the young female.

"Oh, you can bet on it. It's always, Selaene is beautiful, Selaene is the love of my life, Selaene this way... Selaene that way" The Fae observes her own mate who at this moment seems to want to sink to the floor while her mother gesticulates theatrically.

"That's cute." She giggles. They begin to eat and as soon as she takes a bite of the tender meat, she cannot refrain from commenting on that delicacy. "Now I understand why it is Azzie's favorite dish." The female smiles sweetly at her. She does not say it out loud, but she finds Selaene perfect for her son. She notices how his shadows hover around her protectively. How his eyes light up a little more every time he hears his mate's laughter.

"I'm glad you like it." After a few moments, she adds. "Why don't you tell me a little about yourself, or you."

The young girl's cheeks turn slightly red as with a shy smile she begins to tell her story. "I really like singing. That's how we fell in love." She explains, Azriel nods.

"Oh, not only does she like it. She's very good at it." His mother would like to take this moment and frame it. Seeing her son so happy, after seeing him suffer so much, fills her heart with affection. "You should hear from her someday."

"Of course, dear ones. We have all the time in the world." The conversation fades, and Selaene gains courage as she becomes more open and cheerful.

Azriel can do nothing but think home. This is home. This is family. This is his happy little corner. A place where it doesn't have to be Azriel the Shadowsinger, or Azriel the warrior, or Azriel the Illyrian. But just a son. A lover. Just Azzie.

"I'm really glad you enjoyed it. Would you like some cake?" Their mother asks them. Selaene jumps merrily, always ecstatic about sweets, but it is Azriel who replies.

"Sure, shall we taste the treat you brought us?" He asks her, giving her a lip-smacking kiss. It is the first time since they entered that they exchange an intimate gesture in front of their mother, and as cute as the mother finds it, Selaene turns paunchy. The female giggles as she goes to get the cake, giving them some space.

About an hour later, it is now dark outside and the air has cooled.

"Let me help." Selaene pleads as she gets up, taking the dishes from the table.

"Absolutely not, dear. You are my guest. You will never have to lift a finger in my house." Her mother retorts. Azriel watches the scene amused. So busy are they in gentle discussion that they do not notice the male disappearing behind the counter with the dirty dishes. Only when they hear the roar of water from the sink do the two turn to him.

"Oh, Azzie, I'll do it." Says the younger one.

"Let him do it." The mother replies amused. "Let's go relax in the living room."

Once they are comfortable on the small sofa in front of the fireplace that warms them, the expression on the older one's face darkens, suddenly becoming serious.

"Selaene." The young female's heart beats wildly. That she actually dislikes her? Doesn't she see her with her beloved? "I just wanted to say thank you." The sentence astonishes her, but also leaves her confused.

"For what?" Azriel's mother shakes her hand affectionately.

"To love my son. To give him a reason to get up in the morning and come home safely." Selaene's eyes become glazed over, but she does not show it. Her heart melts.

"I..." She is shushed.

"You don't have to say anything. I am simply grateful." The young girl nods just as her mate re-enters the room.

"It's getting a little late." He announces. The mother nods.

At the doorframe, Selaene shares a hug with the female. Azriel brushes her cheek with his lips. "Come see me soon, dear ones. It has been a pleasure!" She waves goodbye with a gesture of her hand.

"Of course. Like you said, we have all the time in the world, Mom." The fae nods.

She stands and watches as they walk away down the driveway hand in hand. A bitter taste invades the back of her tongue at her son's words.

All the time in the world.

dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

tags: @helo1281917 @acotarmemessss @backupasccountt @fxckmiup

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chunkfunkgunk-offishal · 6 months

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Today on CHUNK! FUNK! GUNK! We rate

my cat TWIX:

8/10 Chunk

7/10 Funk

3.8/10 Gunk

Though her bones hold her back from pure chunkiness, she is a round little creature that feels a lot like a waterbed— squishy but with a firmness to her. Like a bowling ball made of jelly. High chunk. My little stinky’s appearance is very odd. She has sunken in eyes and little patches of cream about them that make her look perpetually upset, unamused, or perturbed. Her paws are teeny tiny and I have many bruises in the shape of her stabby little feet all over my legs. She has oddly defined cheekbones for a cat, which add to the perpetual frown on her tiny face. Also her head is TINY. It’s like literally 4 inches wide. TINY. She looks like a pigeon. Also, she has a “W” on her chest, isn’t that neat? High funk. You’re probably wondering how a cat can be gunky. I mean, they don’t produce anything more than the normal mucuses of mammals? Well… Twix has IBS, so you can imagine… Some gunk.

Overall Rating: I would die for her/10

I’ve had Twix for about 7 years and I love her with all of my being. We (my family) found her dying of starvation in a shed at around 4 weeks old and now she is the dappled little bowling ball that you see here. She is my mimi-moomoo, my buubleewuublee, my little angel, my chunk, my chunky-monkey, my chunkadamunkadamunkadachunkada, and mi pequeñita rechonchita. I adore her.

Happy April Fools Day!

#chunk funk gunk #chunk #funk #gunk #april fool's day #asks open

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riostwsty · 1 year

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>> "love comes from the most unexpected of places" <<

Summary: animals can lift up spirits with such ease when one's feeling down, don't you think? After an accident with shape shifting magic, some of the students found themselves transformed into the cutest little creatures, and unbeknownst to you, attemped to use that form to brighten a particularly cloudy day by your side

Key words: headcanons; fluff; romance; g/n reader (they/them, you/yours); relationship not established; reader not explicitly Yuu/MC; accidentally became a princess and the frog plot trope

Characters: Riddle, Jack, Jamil - x reader (separately)

CWs: animals mentioned include hedgehogs, dogs and cats!

>> Riddle Rosehearts, as one anxious hedgehog [900+ words]

- he knew pairing up with Floyd for potions class was a grave mistake of professor Crewel's. "No need to worry Mr Roseharts" he said. "This exercise is far too simple to have any sort of complications occur" he said...

- and well, now Riddle was being chased by an overly enthusiastic Floyd Leech. An even taller version of the twin, as you see, it appeared to not be enough for the cruel universe to make the potion's effects turn Riddle smaller, no. It had to transform him into a itty bitty tiny hedgehog, of all creatures, and a super cute one at that. So cute in fact, his lab partner couldn't resist the urge to tease it, or rather, threaten to squeeze the hell out of such an adorable pet.

- Riddle surprised himself on how fast those tiny legs could carry him. Running through corridors, rolling down stairs and dodging steps of unaware passing students until Floyd was left too far behind, out of his sight.

- In the courtyard, hedgehog Riddle frantically spun around, seeking for a good hiding spot, but instead found something much more curious. A certain student he knew too well, or so he thought, because no matter how much time he had spent admiring them from afar, he never before had witnessed them crying as they were at that moment.

- You sat there, under a tree's shade, hoping no one would approach, fearing the tears and hiccups would only worsen with concerned looks and curious questionnaire. And Riddle feared too, to chose between simply walking away, pretending not to see his beloved's suffering; or choosing to approach, but not being able to comfort them in any helpful way.

- But he had a realization. He didn't have to talk. Where words lacked, another option could come to play. And in that hedgehog form, coincidentally, was perfect for such a task.

- You felt a sudden gentle bump on your ankle, looking down, you were surprised to see a spiky red colored creature studying you back. Strange. These little guys were supposed to be at Heartslabyul's care. How in the world did it get in the school's courtyard?

- a weak giggle was all you could muster as a greeting to the hedgehog, standing a hand for it to climb, and petting it the way Heartslabyul's dorm leader had taught you before.

- —"Riddle must be worried sick about you. He always notices when someone is missing."— you said, unaware the boy in question was now resting at the palm of your hand. —"I can get us back home, how does that sound?"—

- He squeaked in response, and still getting used to the hedgehog legs, climbed your arm all the way up your shoulder. Doing his best to communicate worry without words, pressed the tip of his nose tracing where the tears had fallen. —"what? I'm fine, really!"— you simply replied.

- If Riddle could pout he would. Even to a hedgehog you lied about your feelings. He expected you to open up with a creature who wouldn't judge, much less understand a word you said, but apparently he had to put up a fight to get any results on that.

- the walk went quietly until you both reached the hall of mirrors, where the dorm leader had grown impatient, jumping from the safe spot by your shoulder to the cold marble floors, running and slipping side to side as he reached Heartslabyul's respective mirror, and jumped through it without warning.

- you followed behind with urgency. It's dangerous to be so tiny, roaming around all alone! Catching quick glances of the red colored spikes just before turning around the corners, the chase eventually led you to the parts of the garden where all dormitory pets resided.

- Before you could reach for the runaway creature, a horde of other colorful ones approached all at once, clinging to your shoes, happily circling around as if greeting a beloved visitor. The light nibbling of the hedgehogs tickled, and you crouched down to return the greetings. Though, the energy of your companions was so high you felt obligated to eventually sit down to properly enjoy the playtime altogether.

- It was a dispute to who was going to take a place on your lap, spiky friends playfully pushing one another or climbing over eachother's heads, all for a moment of your attention. It's difficult not to smile amongst such cute bantering, and just like that, the sad tears fallen from earlier that day were long forgotten, back under the shade of the courtyard's tree.

- One particular creature managed to climb all the way up your arms, resting on the same spot on your shoulder that it was before, the red colored urchin snuffled near your ear to call for your attention.

- —"was it you who called all your friends to play? Them seem unusually enthusiastic!"— you laughed, holding him close to your face —"you just made my day. Thank you little one, I needed that"—

- Riddle has never been so close to you as he now was in animal form, curiously, he even began to think the shape-shifting potion incident didn't feel as bad as he thought it would, after all. It isn't an everyday occurrence his crush would hold him so dearly as they were at that moment.

- "They don't even know it's me" he thought. And for a blissful moment he gave in, leaned closer, pressing a quick kiss or rather, the closest he could make from one in that form, before a sparkling magical cloud suddenly took over the place with a "poof!"

—"what..... RIDDLE?"—

>> Jack Howl, as one fluffy little dog [1.2k+ words]

- Yeah, Jack's already a wolf beastman. His unique magic allows him to fully transform at will. Shape shifting magic was no unusual experience, but the problem here lies on the fact that after drinking that potion, he found himself not being able to change back on command, and to make matters worse, he was no wolf. He was a white furred pomeranian.

- Ace had been laughing nonstop for about five minutes straight after the potion had its quick effect. Every once in a while he would manage to hardly breathe in and exclaim one of his meticulous and very helpful observations, varying along the lines of "DUDE NO WAY" or "YOU'RE JUST LIKE MY GRANDMA'S DOG??", and believe it or not, Jack have had enough by the time this second comment left his lab partner's mouth.

- Epel took responsability and offered him a stay on pomefiore for the time being, to keep an eye on him, while Ace looked for a viable solution with a now furious professor Crewel.

- Simply put, Jack had a significant rise in popularity during his short time stay at pomefiore. A giant wolf might not have been the dorm's favorite animal, but a petite walking furball? It was much more like them. Though Epel made sure every single witness would promise not share a word with their dorm leader, as to not risk getting scolded or having Jack quicked out all by himself in such form.

- It was amogst the tumultuous gathering of students that the pomeranian heard a familiar set of footsteps approaching from far away, along with a voice that never failed from making his heart skip a beat. Epel seemed to notice too, and widened his eyes. —"Is that [name] I hear? ...but if they're here they must be accompanied by-!"—

- The lilac haired boy let go of the small dog, and quickly gestured for him to run and hide before Vil suspected of his presence. And run he did. Making sure to avoid getting stomped by passersby students, until he reached the flawlessly trimmed backyard gardens of pomefiore. With plenty of spots to hide and no company around, Jack made himself comfortable in one of the gazebo's chairs, planning on staying still, unbothered, until Ace would get back soon enough with an antidote.

- Though it did not take long enough for his peace to get disturbed once more. —"Hey buddy! What are you doing here?"— a voice spoke from behind him.

- Jack jumped in place, startled, provoking a short giggle from the one who called, you, who smiled oh so softly at his adorable new form. But how could you not? Besides Grim, such cute creatures were not often seen wandering around school grounds. Jack's current presentation was an unusual but very welcomed break from the ordinary NRC life. Although the wolf himself couldn't disagree more. To even look like that was too much of an embarrassing thought. However, in a more positive note, at least his crush didn't know it was him the pomeranian in question!

- —"You think I haven't seen you running away from me and Vil?"— you asked, extending a hand near Jack's nose as a way to say hello —"Don't worry, I won't let him kick you out of the dorm. Somebody needs to take care of you, after all. Do you have an owner?"—

- His ears twitched in response. Your tone was so gentle, he began to wonder if he should keep up with the pet dog act just for a liiittle while longer. It certainly did not feel bad to have his crush's attention solely on him for once, and in this train of thought, he leaned closer to your offered hand to greet you back.

- In a matter of minutes, you and puppy Jack had turned best pals for the very second time in your NRC lives. Playing around the garden until the sun began to set, no one came to bother or to take the fluffy intruder away. Seemed like Ace was having a hard time trying to find a cure, but again, staying in this form for just some moments more certainly wouldn't hurt, right?

- You asked for a second to rest on a nearby bench, and Jack followed behind, sitting by your side with his tail wagging frantically as you two admired the golden hues of the sunset rays. A moment of silence turned into minutes, that turned into what felt like an hour. The sky turned dark and stars began to shine through the clouds. Pomeranian Jack tried to start a conversation topic but only letting out a whimper instead, immediately catching your attention back to him. You sighed. —"you appeared just in the right time, you know? I needed this break from my responsibilities"— you pat his head in thanks, and he eyed you in curiosity.

- Your expression seemed lonely this time, almost distant as you gazed up the crescent moon. He then finally noticed, by looking more attentively into your features, there was a distinguishable layer of concealer covering some unusual dark circles under your eyes. You looked tired. Not from the time you spent playing together that evening, no... something else. Jack traced back that day's events. You were almost never wandering around pomefiore, let alone with Vil of all people. Was the makeup perhaps courtesy of the dorm leader's? You seemed to be wearing products that strangely resembled his, after all.

- Upon noticing your companion's curious and concerned stare, you smiled and as if reading his mind, explained —"Vil seemed worried about me too, that's how I got here."— you chuckled lightly at the situation, a bit funny how a lost puppy got you to open up about your feelings so easily —" it's nothing serious. Just so many things happening lately... it was draining my energy out"—

- Without many ideas on how to comfort you without words, Jack rested his head on your lap with a soft sigh. He then felt a hand on top of his head again, followed by a stifled laugh: —"But it doesn't matter now. I made a new friend today! So thanks for that.."—

- He looked up as you leaned in closer, playfully blowing a kiss from a distance. But that little action was enough to make him panic flustered beyond words. So much so that he incidentally got up too fast and suddenly enough to bump the top of his head into your face, right near your lips. A glittery magical cloud emerged with a "poof!"

- Meanwhile Vil, who was watching the garden by the far away window, nearly choked on his tea with the sight of Jack transforming back into his original form, appearing out of nowhere from that cloud, just to fall on top of a very confused and startled you.

- —"See, Vil? I told you! It was Jack all along!"— Epel beamed by the dorm leader's side, but only getting an exasperated sigh from him in return:

- —"Regardless. You and your little friends still got some explaining to do."— he got up from his seat, heading to the garden's main gates —"And tell that Trappola boy he's going to help you clean all the dog fur from the lounge's coutch today still"—

>> Jamil Viper, as the meanest cat ever [1.4k+ words]

- Jamil was convinced he'd had to wait a million years before he could ever catch a break from easily avoidable, headache-inducing misfortunes taken place on that cursed magical college.

- —"Aw, come on! Don't look at me like that... It could have been much, much worse than this"— scarabia's dorm leader flashed an apologetic smile, as if it was going to fix the shape shifting problem at hand. —"Not saying this scenario is particularly good, but- I mean, what if you were to become a snake instead? I'd lose sight of you in no time and you could be taken away by a hungry bird! Oh, I don't mean to say you'd become a snake specifically because of your original appearance or personality or past actions or morals or-"—

- The black furred feline could only roll his eyes at the incessant rambling of his housewarden. If Jamil could talk, he'd interrupt Kalim before he'd burst out more painfully honest and indirect call outs aimed at him, that the oblivious boy would surely regret from letting out once he realized that maybe, some truths were best kept inside his head. But that's what usually happens anyway. Jamil was too sick and tired at that point to feel offended by them at all.

- But oh well. Simply another nuisance to get on his way of boring daily tasks. Nothing that haven't already happened before. It's just that being transformed into a cat was a more extreme case, and he wasn't so sure of how to even work on "babysitting" duties with paws intead of hands. Kalim took notice, and offered himself to spend the day with the alchemy professor until he found a viable solution to the problem. Jamil only nodded in boredom as the housewarden turned to rambling all distracted again, this time with a very much annoyed professor Crewel.

- As that went on in the backgroud, something suddenly caught the vice housewarden's attention from outside of the classroom: a desperate Ace Trappola walking in anxious circles around the corridor, staring at the floor below his feet, and mumbling something under his breath that only the sensitive ears of a cat could clearly pick up on: apparently you have gone missing. And it visibly made the first year unspeakably worried.

- Jamil approached Ace, careful enough not to be stomped by him unaware. The red haired boy only took a half glance at his direction, and let out a stressed grunt: —"Not now, Grim. I'm trying to think where to look for [name]. Please don't bother if all you're gonna do is ask for tuna!"— the red haired sat by the corridor's bench in defeat —"Was it something I said? Probably was. They wouldn't be avoiding me otherwise..."—

- Quickly the feline made sense of the situation, and annoyed, agressively tapped him on the ankle as a way to say "idiot" , getting a startled "HEY!" from the boy in response, and then immediatelly took off to search for his misssing friend. Yes, you spent a lot of time with the rest of the first years, but Jamil knew you better than anyone else around. He already had an idea of where you could have possibly ran off to.

- And surely enough, there you were. In one of the less frequented classrooms in school grounds, hidden comfortably in the corner where no one could bother, or even see you at first glance. A nice place to stay for some alone time.

- However, before stepping in and calling for your attetion, he hesitated. Jamil had been so irritated over the possibility of Ace upsetting you, he hadn't even considered maybe all you needed at that moment was to be given some space to breathe. A pang of guilt hit him right away. What was he thinking? Assuming he could comfort you at any given situation just like that? he wished that was even a possibility.

- As a servant, he had the skills and knowledge to do almost anything his work could ever ask of him. Nothing was too much of a challenge, he always solved eventual difficulties in one way or another. But adding his secret crush to the equation was a recipe to near disaster, at least in his head. A hundred possibilities ran through him, none of which he was minimally satisfied with, and it was scary. Scary to think his near perfect problem solving skills were finally failing to meet expectations, no less expectations from the only person he truly, deeply cared about, not due to obligation this time, but to the only thing in his life that strayed away from such word.

- "If I have nothing helpful to say, better not even try" he thought to himself, and turned on his heels to leave, mentally frowing over this unwelcomed feeling of weakness taking over any last bit of logical thinking he still held at that point. But not until he heard a "hello? who's there?" coming from you that he figuratively slapped himself in the face. He got too caught up in uncertainty. It was too late to run away.

- The cat meowed from behind the desk, and you widened your eyes upon hearing it. Grim doesn't meow. What in the world was a kitty doing inside the classroom? Maybe it was professor Trein's pet companion? But when it showed up from its hiding spot, you could tell it was a cat of an unfamiliar appearance. It blinked at you and you blinked at him, both unsure of what to do at that moment.

- —"kitty.."— you mumbled in awe, face lighting up in interest. You silently extended a hand on its direction, waiting patiently for the creature to approach.

- "So they like cats, huh?" Jamil wondered for a few seconds before taking the risky decision to approach, placing his head under your offered palm, and watched your eyes sparkle in glee "they don't know it's me anyway. what harm could this do?"

- The silent classroom was now filled with light laughter. In that form, anything Jamil did earned a fit of giggles from you. He was just too cute! And to be fair, usually stray cats weren't nearly half as caring or approachable as he was being, so having one so cuddly play with the cloth of your uniform and constantly ask for more caressing was almost the best thing to ever happen to you in that school.

- The vice housewarden couldn't lie, he enjoyed all the attention he was getting from you, and better yet the fact of how easy his goal of cheering you up really had been, even if all he could provide was a mere passing distraction from your actual troubles. At least you were smiling, genuinely.

- —"cats are good at reading people's energies, or so I've heard."— you spoke up, taking the purring furball in your arms —"is this how you found me?"—

- Jamil slowy closed his eyes as a response, and you took it as a yes, smiling brigthly in return —"thank you"—

- But as all good things do, they tend to pass in a blink of an eye. The room's door slammed open, making both of you jump in place, the feline huddled closer to your arms with his ears down and fur standing up at the sight of the people who came into view. Ace and Kalim. The last people on earth he'd want to see ruining that moment between you two.

- —"There he is!"— the first year shouted, pointing at the cat, and then later widening his eyes in realization of who was holding it. —"and [name]... man, I've been looking everywhere for you! why did you--"—

- Jamil hissed as the two boys approached, and tried to back away as much as he could from Kalim's hands, desperately wanting to hide in your arms and getting back to being alone with you again. There wasn't much space left to withdraw though, in the corner of the room, Jamil drew back until he accidentally went head first into yours, and then a thick magical mist quickly took over the scene, blocking everyone's sight for a moment before the clouds dispersed enough to reveal Jamil back into his original form, sitting on your lap, hugging you tighly with a furious expression aimed at the intruders. He opened his mouth expecting a hiss or meow to come out of it, but instead was surprised with his own voice blurting an "Ah--"

- He could feel the heat rising up to his face, and for a moment he wished Kalim would drop another shape shifting potion to get him back into a form he could so freely ask for your hugs without any judgement or flustered overthinking.

#twst writing #twst #twst fanfic #twst x reader #[english works]#twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #jack howl #jamil viper #riddle rosehearts x reader #jack howl x reader #jamil viper x reader #No one's gonna know I chose a cat for Jamil just so his name could be Jamew #never expect fast updates from me

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deuxcherise · 4 months

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Collar Crimes: Weasel In

C/w: Unhealthy behavior, yandere OC, yandere male, whiny yandere, gender neutral reader, comfort (?), fluff (?), mentions violent action, cute image of stoat for reference A/n: So I watched a video about a stoat, a type of weasel, and oml it's adorable as heck. And vicious. And we can’t deny a cute yandere, can we? Enjoy~ Masterlist | Part 0, Part 1 (you're here!), Part 2

The stoat is a very lovely creature. Quite small, halfway tamable, and very weasel-like. A long-shaped living doll of a creature. However, it is… less cute in its mannerisms. You've seen it, with its tiny form, take down a rabbit twice its size and thickness. You were a child back then when you witnessed this shocking event, and have long since accepted that not all cute things are gentle and innocent.

Perhaps that is why you haven't called the police yet, though you definitely keep your phone on hand. Just in case…

"(Y-Y/n)... I… This is not what it looks like!”

Really? Then what the heck are you looking at?

The very large trash bag he is dragging away in the alleyway next to your apartment has a very suspiciously human shape, with the head, the armed-bound torso, and bound legs. Sure, an idiot could chalk it up to Eris's strange tying technique, but you are no idiot.

Not to mention, the bag is starting to squirm and makes a muffled noise.

“Quiet,” Eris spit before he stomps on the bag so hard you could hear a crack. The bag immediately stills. He then turns to you with a bashful smile, like the kind of smile you’d find on a person who accidentally made a mess in the kitchen because they were trying to make a cake for you.

…..

Yeah, that’s the same exact smile he had when the one time you found him in your kitchen at 3AM, in the middle of baking a cake for your birthday. Sweet as the gesture was, you have never given him a key to your apartment.

You sigh. “Listen, could you please be more…” You gesture to this whole scene with circular motions of both of your hands. “Inconspicuous about your crimes?”

Eris's eyes sparkle. “Of course, my love! I made sure there aren't any cameras or witnesses here to catch me!”

There were many cameras set up by your landlord just a few days ago, as a result of an uptick of crimes in the area recently. Knowing Eris… that landlord wasted quite a sum.

“Actually, the area here is pretty dangerous,” he adds. “You should come live with me!”

“I've said this before, and I'll say it again. No, thank you.”

His pleasant expression falls for a second before he pipes up, “Mm, okay! Then let me install some cameras!”

“No. No, thank you.”

“But (Y/n)! How else am I going to wat–protect you?” he whines, his arms flailing the trash bag like a child throwing a tantrum.

You sigh as you turn around and start walking into your apartment. You ignore his cries for your name, unwilling to deal with people in general after finishing your 9-to-5 customer service job. That's how you found him actually, or rather how he found you. Funny, isn’t it? You don't understand why he's so… obsessed over you to this point.

Why you haven’t taken any real action so far is because he’s been pretty harmless overall–aside from a few kisses on the cheek and head and hand. He really likes planting kisses on you, doesn't he? At least he doesn't kiss you on the lips… as far as you're aware…

Still in your work uniform, you collapse on your couch and take a nap for at least an hour. When you wake up again, you find Eris on top of you, staring intensely at your face with a very blank, doll-like expression. Realizing you're awake, his doll-like face breaks into a smile.

“(Y/n)~” he sweetly calls out to you, like a puppy greeting his owner. It would’ve been cute, but his history of creepy antics pollutes his image.

You don't question how he gets into your apartment without a key anymore. “Get off,” you command.

“Noooo… Don't wannaaaa.”

You sigh. He's being difficult again. You take a hand and push against his shoulder, expecting to push him off your bed as usual. This time, however, he's too solid and stable. Drowziness is keeping you weak.

“Eris…”

“Yes, love?”

“Please get off… you're crushing me.”

“Eh?? No, I'm not!”

He really isn't, bearing his weight on his elbows and knees and not at all on your body. How long has he kept this pose?

Seeing his face about to whine again, you say, “Ugh, fine.” You roll over onto your stomach and close your eyes again.

“(Y/n)? Are you going back to sleep? You haven't had dinner yeeet.”

“.....”

“(Y/nnn).”

“Don't feel like eating.”

“Uh… But (Y/n), you have to take care of your health. Or let me take care of your health.”

“Don't need you to. Leave me alone.”

“Hmphhhhh.”

“.....”

You hear him lower himself down onto your body to wrap his arms around you. His lips trace the back of your neck, much to your discomfort.

“(Y/n),” he whispers.

“.....”

“You're lonely, right?”

“.....”

“I am too, so I know. You don't have to tell me.”

“.....”

“Since we're both alone… I was thinking… we should become a family together… Isn't that a good idea?”

“.....”

“I can wait for you at home… cook for you… do the laundry… take out the trash… take care of our children…”

“I don't want any children,” you murmur.

He gently kisses the back of your head. “Of course, of course. I’m okay if it’s just you and me. Would you like a summer wedding or a winter wedding? Personally, I prefer winter-”

“I'm not… marrying you.”

“Mm… That's okay too! We can… elope, if that's what you want. As long as we're together.”

“I don't… like you that way.”

“Oh… does that mean you like me in other ways?”

What part of–you sigh. “Shut up… trying to sleep…”

You hear him giggle as he hugs you tighter and plants some more kisses on the back of your head. “Okay, okay, my love. I'm just… so happy. Being with you. I really am. I'll make you fall in love with me… some day, (Y/n).”

“Mm hm… Sure…”

“Just need to… get rid of some more… pests… so we can be together… always…”

And the both of you head off to dreamland together on the couch~

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macabr3-barbi3 · 4 months

Note

I'd like to request a reader stumbling upon Alastor and a deer having a squeaking contest in the woods. I don't know why I need it but I need it because squeaking contest. Thank you

Hello! I hope this scratches the itch for you, it was super cute and fun to write ❤️🦌

You were perhaps a bit early for your meeting with Alastor, but you didn’t think he would mind as you eased open the door to his hotel room and let yourself in. You had been regularly spending time together for a few months now since you had started staying at the hotel, and normally you shared an evening cup of tea about an hour later than you currently were.

Alastor wasn’t in his room when you stepped inside though, the fire going but no sign of the Radio Demon. You set the new tea you had brought along for the two of you to try on the table near his armchairs and wander further into the room.

He might be in his bayou dimension, you figure. It wasn’t like him to be outside the hotel at this time of the night, so unless he was down at the bar or something he had to be out in the swamp. You had been itching to take a closer look at the ecosystem anyway, so you hoped he wouldn’t mind if you took a look around.

Stepping over the threshold from bedroom to bayou, the difference was immediately noticeable- the atmosphere felt thicker, warmer, more tangible. You follow the path that’s been eroded into the earth through the trees, marveling at the world that Alastor has created here. It was beautiful, the stars shining through the canopy of trees above you, green-tinted moon casting a faint glow on the flora and little creatures you could see skittering about. Maybe he wouldn’t be too averse to having your tea out here sometimes- iced, since it was a bit hotter, but you didn’t think he would mind.

A faint squeaking noise draws your attention, feet halting as you try to pinpoint the direction it had come from. A moment of silence, and then you hear it again coming from your left. You slip your shoes off to muffle the sound of your feet in the grass and creep towards the sound.

You’ve found Alastor, at least- he’s bent at the waist and face to face with a baby deer, ears flattened against his head and his smile thin. Your eyebrows scrunch at the sight, and then the fawn makes the noise that you had followed; high pitched and cute, it makes you smile, grin widening when Alastor glares at the tiny creature and imitates the sound.

They go back and forth several times, the squeaking increasing in volume and length and Alastor getting progressively more frustrated. You hadn’t even known that he could make a noise like that, so sweet and soft and genuinely deerlike that it finally makes you giggle, the fawn taking off into the darkness of the woods and Alastor standing to his normal height, ears pointing skyward as his eyes narrow at the sight of you.

“What,” he inquires, “are you doing out here?”

“What am I doing out here? You were in some kind of squeaking contest with a baby deer- so cute by the way-”

“My actions are none of your concern.” He turns his head away from you, but even in the dim lighting you can see the faint blush to his complexion.

“Come on, Al,” you tease lightly, not wanting to actually anger him. “You can tell me- did the fawn offer you its soul if you could out-adorable it? You were doing a great job from what I could see.”

“If you must know, it was a riveting argument about the state of my bayou- whatever level of ‘cuteness’ you apply to it is merely a byproduct of the conversation. Since you’ve scared the damned thing off, I shall have to resume the conversation another time.” His smile is tense, leaning into your personal space. “You will speak of this to no one,” he says, brushing his hands off on his suit jacket. “Know that it is only the faintest sliver of platonic affection keeping your afterlife uninterrupted.”

“Gotcha,” you agree. “Big scary Radio Demon? Not cute in the slightest; I have no evidence to the contrary if anyone asks. You have my word.” You place a hand over your heart in mock-seriousness, and know that you’ve won him over when he scoffs and his smile softens. “Now come on, I brought a new tea for us to try- back to society!” You’re already contemplating how to make him make that squeaking noise again; maybe if you asked nicely he would do it for you, or perhaps you’d have to startle him into it-

“It’s not even a mile back to the room, and this is hardly the wilderness,” he complains, but he follows you anyway, your nefarious plot unnoticed.

#hazbin hotel #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor fluff #this was fuckin precious #hazbin alastor #simp shit <3

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palesweetscherryblossom · 24 days

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Hello!! I literally just found your account recently and I'm completely obsessed

I have an idea I'd love to share that's been haunting my every waking moment-

So I love the naga dabi and shigaraki au and I'm stuck imagining a fawn centaur child reader!! Like it's not the typical environment for them, maybe some hunters brought them out to use as bait?? Lil baby deer stumbling over themselves with big teary doe eyes letting out nervous lil bleats, antlers nubs?? Even if they do one day grow into full blown antlers the serpent couple would probably decorate them with treasures(jewelry from 'hunts' when hunters got too close) and maybe even a few teeth?? Deer darling maybe slowly becoming an omnivore?? Going against their prey nature to mimic their parents predator traits??(Trying to be as big and strong as papa & daddy) floppy ears twitchy softly as you dream curled up against them sunbathing??? Darling trying to sqaure up regardless of how precious they are and tell some small time hunters to skedaddle only to get slightly injured and be saved by papa shigraki (readers not allowed to leave the den for a w h i l e)

OMG, I love this idea so much!! I love the way you think.

Fawn! Reader would’ve probably been used as bait, since hunters know that small, weak creatures draw Naga Shigadabi out.

But what they weren’t expecting was Shigaraki to not immediately try to strangle Reader or just immediately eat them. He takes his sweet time, picking them up, recognizing their scent. Reader is absolutely terrified, nervously bleating, the hunters are eagerly waiting and Shigaraki is just poking at their antler nubs.

In the forest, it’s extremely taboo to go after young children or mothers so Shigaraki doesn’t wanna eat Reader.

What also saves Reader is that Shigadabi are coming down from another hormone crash and just exited their mating cycle. So they’re in a parental mood.

What also solidifies Shigaraki’s adoration of Fawn! Reader is them trying to headbutt him with their tiny antler nubs and he’s just: You’re my bby now :)

Please send more idea about this particular idea! This is honestly very interesting

#platonic yandere #yandere mha #yandere shigaraki #naga shigaraki #naga dabi

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rosedforbes · 4 months

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I've been working on this for an embarrassing amount of time, but i finally mustered the courage to post it! this a gift for @galvanizedfriend , my favorite autor, moot, and dare I say friend, on tumblr! Yokan, I'll never stop saying that your fictions are the only thing keeping me sane at the moment, and they've always been a tiny lantern during some tough periods of my life. I really hope you'll like this little Drabble about Kleve 🙏

DISCLAIMERS: Eve is NOT my character, she's from Yokan's series The Wolf ! also, this is my first time ever writing a fan fiction, and English is not my native language, so please, have mercy.

maybe there's a god, after all.

That's the thought that has been crossing Klaus' mind for sixteen years, every single time he looked at his little girl.

After his experience with Marcel, Klaus has realized that raising a child into his own reflection is not a smart move. In fact, if Eve had turned out like her father, it would've been the very end of the whole human - and inhuman - species. Luckily for everyone, his beautiful princess is essentially the mini version of the only woman who shares the custody of his immortal heart with her: Caroline.

They couldn't be more similar if they tried. Like mother, like daughter.

If it wasn't for some specific details that Eve couldn't have taken from anyone but him, Klaus thinks that people would start questioning if Caroline made Eve by herself, without the contribution that is usually required to create another living creature.

That, is all him.

Even if he's quite proud – and grateful — about how Eve's turned out just like her magnificent mother, Klaus can't help but smile when he witness the appearance of one those details he mentioned before: the fondness for art, the passion for swords duels — a voice in the back of his mind reminds him of something Caroline said about this specific factor, "it's called fencing, Klaus. You don't need to kill your opponent anymore to prove your victory." or something along those lines — the constant presence of dark humor and sarcasm in any of her conversations, and her gigantic, stormy blue eyes that are accompanied by a pair of dimples and a wicked little smile whenever she got something on her mind.

Something that Eve clearly hasn't taken from him though, is her way of showing emotions. Just like his wife, Eve wears her emotions like a second skin, which leads to her being a terrible liar. If she's happy, then the room will light up as soon as she enters it, and everyone can't help but be drawn to her joyful behavior. On the other end, if she's feeling sad, angry, or any other kind of negative emotion, then... Well, she would keep her mouth shut and open it just to make salty remarks, keeping an annoyed — yet adorable, if you ask him — little pout on her face.

That's how Klaus knows that something is wrong.

As soon as he sets foot in the compound, he's greeted by a very common view: Freya and Eve, sitting around the table of the living room, reading and chanting spells.

Normally, Klaus would walk towards them just to make them aware of his presence and to steal a kiss on his daughter's cheek as a brief salute, but he soon realizes that Freya is the only one writing down something in witch gibberish, while Eve is just quietly looking at her aunt, with a frowned expression all over her face.

His little wolf is so caught up on Freya's doing that she doesn't notice him until he's behind her, trying to understand what kind of spell his sister is casting, with a hand gently touching her shoulder. Eve tenses up at the touch, turning her head to look at him almost as fast as a regular vampire. As soon as she sees him though, she relaxes a little bit, offering him a tight lipped smile.

"Hey, Daddy," she says, voice so quiet and hoarse that he probably wouldn't have heard her if it wasn't for his vampirism. " 'm sorry, didn't hear you coming in."

Hearing Eve talking with such a tired and low tone makes his heart explode with concern. She's pure sunshine, his daughter, this cloud of negativity does not belong to her. Nonetheless, he tries to mask his thoughts with a tight lipped smile, looking down at Eve, "Don't worry, sweetheart," He says, moving his eyes to his sister, who hasn't left hers from the grimoires spread around the table even as he introduced himself, "Freya, care to explain what's happening or do I have to guess?" He asks with a tone that indicates nothing but irritation.

Klaus arches his brows in confusion, his gaze switching between Eve and Freya, as to ask for one of them to elaborate what he just heard.

Freya finally looks up, if only to send him a not-so-friendly glare, but before she can snap right back at him, Eve takes word, looking at him like she's about to have a nervous breakdown "Apparently, I'm on house arrest until the Jury," she indicates Freya with her eyes, before turning her attention back to him, "tells me otherwise." She concludes, and the exasperation of her tone is almost touchable.

It's Freya the one that, with a sigh, steps in. "Some witches have been messing around with a kind of magic way too difficult for them to understand, leading to an imbalance that covers all New Orleans." She explains, rubbing her hands on her temples. "Long story short: right now, every witch in New Orleans is having trouble controlling their magic, especially the younger ones like Eve. In addition, being the tribid gives her an enormous amount of power which is hard to control on a good day, so it's better if we keep her under control, in a limited and safe space."

Eve rolls her eyes as soon as Freya concludes, shifting her position to show him the magic-restraining bracelet on her wrist. "I haven't seen this freaking bracelet in years. I thought I was finally free, but no, some dumbass witch thought it was a good idea to mess with something way too big for them to understand, turning me into a fu-"

"Language." Both Klaus and Freya interrupts her, giving Eve a warning look.

she glares at both of them, visibly annoyed.

"turning me into a freaking bomb." she grumbles, looking down at the pages of the grimoires.

Christ, Klaus thinks, he's losing points as the cool parent.

"Dad?" Eve says, looking at him with an arched eyebrow, like she's expecting something from him. "Are you still here? You haven't threatened anyone since you heard of this, and it's more concerning than a bunch of low-level witches messing around." She concludes.

Klaus takes a long sigh, pulling out his phone from his pocket to send a message to Caroline and the rest of the family. It takes all of his willpower to not storm out and look for this gang of inconsiderate witches, accompanied by nothing but his fury, showing them the treatment that is reserved specifically to the ones that put his daughter in a bad mood, but he recognized the fact that this situation is already unsteady, and there is no space for his impulsiveness, yet.

Well, the sarcastic remarks are only funny when they're not directed at him.

"Trust me, Eve, I have lots to say, but none of it is appropriate in the presence of a child." he retorts, switching his attention back to Freya. "I've sent a message to Caroline and to our siblings, they should all be here in about 40 minutes."

Freya simply nods, gathering all the magic stuff from the table. "I'll call Vincent." she stands up, giving a kiss on Eve's head. "I'm pretty sure he's more informed than us at the moment. Besides, another witch would be helpful."

"what am I? a ghost?!" Eve snaps when Freya disappears in her own bedroom. "I can't use magic, I'm on house arrest, this handcuff is back around my wrist and I haven't even had my daily bignets!" she explains desperately, curling on herself, resting her chin and arms over her knees.

Klaus can't help the low chuckles coming out of his mouth, something that earns him a dirty look from his little wolf.

"I'm glad you find my misery amusing. Father of the year, really." Eve says, enunciating her pout even more.

"Not at all, sweetheart. To be completely honest, I would love nothing more than to go fetch those witches myself and show them what happens when someone dares to upset my daughter," Eve promptly rolls his eyes at that, but he sees how she's trying to bite back a smile.

"However, Your mother would eviscerate me if my impulsiveness took place in a delicate situation such as this one."

"Then what do we do while waiting for mom to come home?" Eve says, and truth to be told, patience has never been a strong suits of her.

"Well, I did get that new painting set you've mentioned lately." He says with a grin, observing how Eve's pout changes to a wide smile between record time.

"The pink one?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

"You're the best!" she chirps, jumping from her chair to wrap her arms around his waist, the bad mood evaporating completely from her body. Klaus can't help but smile when he looks down at his daughter, holding her close to him. Oh, how he wishes time would stop, just to remain like this for at least a decade, with his little girl safe, sound and happy in his arms, where no bad intentions can reach her.

"Come on, sweetheart," He says, grabbing her hands "let's see if those colors actually blend on their own." he concludes with a wink, leading her towards the art studio. He knows this happiness is going to be short-lived, but the least he can do is to keep Eve's mind occupied, distracting her from the stress of this situation. As he enters the room, Klaus notices that he's running out of dark red acrylic.

Well, it appears those witches are going to be useful, after all.

#how DO YOU EVEN TAG THIS STUFF #this is kinda embarrassing #let's see how im going to feel about this tomorrow morning #CHECK YOKAN'S AO3 PAGE RIGHT NOW #best autor out there hands down #drabble #fanfiction #oneshot #klaroline #klaroline drabbles #klaroline fanfiction #klaus mikaelson #caroline forbes #freya mikaelson #eve forbes mikaelson #the vampire diaries #the originals #the wolf universe

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