#usually I am not a cough person I am not sure where this is coming from | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

python333 · 8 months

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bedbound — python333

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synopsis you're on a mission and oopsie daisy you get trapped under a building!! you end up in the medbay and tf141 visits you one by one, each of them giving you a lil piece of their mind for going and getting yourself trapped under a collapsed building.

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 4.5k

warnings pretty detailed (i think) descriptions of [reader] being in pain [specifically having a bunch of leg injuries], angstier than i usually write, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note this is my first actual fic ive wrotten in MONTHS so i hope its okay! so sorry if it feels like a majority of the focus is on the reader, i had a too much fun writing out the first part where they get crushed :3 i am also once again begging for requests. like on my knees hands together begging for requests. its the best way of getting motivation istg. anyway, this is all mild hurt/comfort and some angst + fluff so enjoy!! :3

You tried running out of the building—you didn’t expect the whole damn thing to come crashing down on you.

You’d just been chasing after an enemy soldier moments ago, dashing into the building, when suddenly the whole building seemed to shake. Then, the whole thing seemed to just collapse. When you think about it now, you realize the shake must’ve come from a nearby explosion, an explosion somehow powerful enough to damage the structural support of the building so terribly that it couldn’t hold itself up anymore and instead fell down onto you.

Now, here you were, just ten steps away from the entrance of the building, stopped by the huge slab of concrete and twisted metal that pinned your legs down to the ground. Your earpiece fell off when you fell down, sliding across the floor, preventing you from calling your team.

Sure, you could try and move your legs, but the excruciating pain that came with each movement wasn’t worth it. You think your legs are broken with the way your nerves scream at you every time you move them, and with how uncomfortably and horrifyingly disconnected they feel.

“I’m making shit up,” You whisper hoarsely to yourself, ignoring the tears that welled up in your eyes from the debris and dust in the air, “They’re not broken. I’m making it worse for myself by thinking that.”

In the back of your mind, you remember that you’re quoting Price on that one, from the last time you got seriously hurt like this. You vaguely remember your panicked words and Price’s soothing voice that came after every worry, telling you that no, you’re not too badly hurt, it’s gonna be okay, you’re just panicking.

But in the forefront of your mind, all you can do is think about how you can’t reach your earpiece to talk to your team, the only thing you can do is listen to their worried voices.

The earpiece is loud enough for you to hear, even though you’re just out of arm’s reach from it, you can still hear your teammates repeating your call sign and asking how you copy. With the stupid Push-To-Talk thing, you can’t even just respond, no, you have to push the button on the side of your earpiece to unmute yourself.

You stretch your arm out just a little bit more to try and reach the earpiece, but when your leg starts to strain and your nerves light up you immediately give up, letting out a small, pained huff. You take a moment to just lie there and listen to your own labored breaths, every other breath hitching or catching in your throat.

You swallow down a sob that threatens to bubble out of your throat and try to reach again and—nope, that still fucking hurts.

You bring your hand back and put it over your mouth to muffle a small sob that climbs up and out of your throat, and try to take a deep breath the best you can with the debris in the air.

You feel a slight discomfort in your chest and cough, horrified when you see small specks of dust in the air you cough out, and God, the sight of it makes you want to rip out your lungs.

You feel the sudden urge to cough everything out, to flush out the dust in your lungs, to get rid of the uncomfortably full feeling you feel in your chest, but you know that every time you cough you can only exhale more of that debris-filled dust back in so now you’re trapped in a loop and—

“[c/n], how copy?” God, you want to yell at them that repeating that question won’t help, but you know there’s nothing else they can do. They’ve already asked where you are, if you’re okay, and how you copy multiple times, all of which got no answer.

They’ve only experienced radio silence on their end, and the thought makes you feel guilty for not being able to suck up the pain in your legs and just reach over to the damn earpiece and tell them you’re trapped.

You take a few deep breaths, trying your best to ignore the way you can literally feel the dust entering your lungs, and reach. You stretch your arm out the farthest you can, and feel the strain in your leg, and you’re almost to the earpiece, just a few more inches— pop.

A bone chilling pop rings through the air the moment you manage to snatch the earpiece, and good thing it was at least after you managed to grasp it firmly in your hand because you recoil back on instinct and gasp.

The gasp only lets in more dust, and you cough, wet tears dripping down onto your cheeks as you go through a seemingly endless loop of coughing out dust and inhaling debris and coughing it out again only for new dust to make its way into your system.

You stifle a pain-filled whimper and try to control your shaky breath, gripping the earpiece firming in your hand, looking down at it, looking at the sheer amount of debris on it. You bring your free hand out and wipe away the debris with shaky hands, making sure it’s clean enough to put in your ear before you carefully insert it.

It takes you a moment with your trembling hands, but you manage to do it, and you listen to Price ask how you copy one more time before you push down on the PTT button.

“Copy—” You hoarsely say, before coughing, everyone on the other line going silent, “Copy, not doing very well over here.”

“What happened?” Price’s voice crackles through on the damaged ear piece, “Are you hurt?”

“I got trapped under— under some concrete, and I…” You take a moment to catch your breath, “My legs are pinned, I can’t move.”

“Okay, okay,” Price’s voice softens, his tone becoming more soothing, “Where are you?”

“In a building— dunno which— which one… it’s by the really tall one,” You breathe out, mentally slapping yourself in the forehead for not being able to remember, “I’m sorry, I just know it’s orange and it has the entrance that Ghost bumped his head on—”

“It’s okay, I know which one you’re talking about,” Price reassures you, “Catch your breath. I’ll be there to get you out of there, okay? Just stay still, don’t move a muscle, you hear me?”

“I hear you,” You mumble, trying to catch your breath, coughing at the amount of dust that infiltrates your lungs. You bring your hand off of the PTT button and sob once, quietly, and sniffle to try and stop yourself from crying, blinking away tears.

The tears that trailed down your face earlier now only make you realize just how much dust and grime is on your face, how the tear trails must’ve been the only clean lines on your face, how there’s a whole layer of pure filth on your face and you can’t even properly wipe it away because your hands are dirty too.

The pain in your legs are throbbing and you know that you’ve torn some of the muscle in your thighs, and you know the popping noise had to have been your hip, from the unnatural way you’d twisted it to reach your earpiece. You don’t even have time to think about how pathetic you look when suddenly Price opens the barely-hanging-onto-the-hinges-door, looking at the floor for a moment before his eyes finally land on you.

He immediately walks over to the slab of concrete pinning your legs down and forcing you to lie on the ground and you can hear him faintly murmur, “Oh, God,” and kneel down to the same level as the concrete.

You turn your neck to look at him and watch as he looks at the concrete for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to lift it, before he simply grabs the edge of the concrete and, with a grunt and after a good thirty seconds, he manages to lift one end up and flip it over onto its other side. The circulation that immediately floods back to your legs and the sudden feeling of weightlessness you get is almost too much, and you can barely find it in yourself to feel shame as you let out a small, relieved sob at the sudden rush of blood to your legs.

Price immediately gasps and you can’t see much from your angle but in the midst of your relief you suddenly feel a pang of pain and oh God, that hurts. You can recognize now the warm blood that accompanies the drying blood on your calf, and with the blood rushing into your legs, more spills out from the wound in your leg. Vaguely, you can remember twisted metal doing something to your leg—stabbing it, maybe? Your brain becomes fog-filled; too hazy to think through but just clear enough to register the throbbing pain in your leg.

“I’m so sorry,” Price murmurs softly, and before you can question him he takes the metal out of your leg and you let out a closed-lip scream, slapping a hand over your mouth to try and muffle the now uncontrollable sobs that break past your lips, the pain you feel making you light-headed.

Price quickly pulls a tourniquet out of one of the many pockets of his tactical best, wrapping the bright red strip around your leg just above the bleeding, blocking the blood from reaching past that point. He tightens it and rolls you over so that you’re laying on your back, making you stifle another pain-filled whimper. Without another word, he slips his arm under your knees and his other below your back and lifts you up bridal style, making you gasp sharply and cry out for a moment in pain, a few drops of blood making it onto the floor from your calf, the whole sight dizzying.

Being lifted up like this gave you vertigo—your head spun as you were lifted up and you could barely process anything with your hazy mind. Price mutters small ‘sorry’s under his breath, carrying you out of the door and quickly running with you in his arms back to where the others are, almost wanting to cry for you, seeing how much pain you were in.

Your eyelids drooped and your eyes shortly became half-lidded, and your ears started to ring, and everything was so overwhelming you just wanted it to be over.

Price notices your eyelids drooping and quickly says, “Hey, hey, don’t pass out on me, you gotta stay awake, kid.” You can only shake your head ‘no’ because talking feels like too much right now and let out another small, pain-filled whimper, just the sound of it making Price’s heart shatter.

You can only find it in yourself to talk a moment later, your words slurring together as you try to speak, “I can’t— can’t… I’m sorry, I can’t—” You don’t even know what you’re trying to say, what you’re trying to warn Price about, but he seems to know.

“No, no, no—” Price tries to beg you, as if you had enough strength to stay awake. Those are the last words you hear before you completely black out.

—

You wake up to a white ceiling and the faint beeping of a heart monitor. You move your head around a bit, trying to gauge where you are, when you realize— oh, I’m in the medbay. You blink for a moment before sighing and just resting there for a moment, trying to recount the events that happened earlier. You don’t have time to go down memory lane, though, because suddenly the curtains in front of your bed are pulled back to reveal your Captain. “You’re awake,” He states, closing the curtains behind him. “How could you tell?” He snorts and sits down in a chair by your bed. You look at him questioningly, “Where’re the others?” “They’ll be here soon,” Price assures you, looking at your blanket covered legs for a moment before looking back up at your face, “Medics said one at a time.” You hum neutrally in response to that and wait a moment before asking, “How bad is it?” “Your leg?” “Yeah.” “Well…” Price starts to list off on his fingers, recalling the doctor’s words, “The joint that connected your hips and your legs was twisted and it had to be set back to normal, your muscles were torn, your ligaments were torn, your nerves were so compressed someone had to physically massage your legs back to life, and the stab wound in your leg almost got infected.” “… Huh.” You blink at Price, before asking, “When can I get out of here?” “Why is that what you’re thinking about right now?” Price asks, confused, before sighing and answering, “Kid, your leg was basically broken. You can get out of here in maybe a few weeks to a month. Getting back to your assignments is a whole different story. It could take several months for your muscles to fully heal, and even then I don’t want you back out there for a while. Not until it’s guaranteed your leg won’t… give out, or something, out there.” You frown at Price, “So what, I’m just gonna be stuck here?” “What else are you gonna do with an almost-broken leg?” “…” Price sighs and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Look, I know it’s frustrating, having to sit here for a few weeks then be able to get out only to not be able to do anything too physical, but your leg muscles were torn. You were trapped under concrete. You’re not going on any missions any time soon. I feel like that should be kind of obvious.” You can understand it, knowing the condition you’re in now, but you still deflate a little where you lie down and let out a tired, frustrated huff. Price chuckles softly at your clear display of disappointment and rubs your shoulder gently before patting it and getting up. “I guess I have to let the others see you too,” He muses, making your lips twitch up into a smile, the sight making him smile in return, “But I’ll be back tomorrow to talk to you again, alright?” “Alright,” You nod, watching as he walks past the curtains blocking your bed from the rest of the medbay and listen as the door clicks open and closes shut. Not even a few seconds later, the door opens again, this time with someone walking faster to the curtains, pushing them aside eagerly. You quickly recognize Soap as he walks in, quickly closing the curtains behind him before rushing over and leaning down to hug you. This all happens so quickly you have to take a moment to process it, but you eventually hug him back, sighing at the warm embrace. “I want tae call ye stupid sae bad,” Soap mumbles into your neck as he hugs you, “but it wasn’ even yer fault sae I can’.”

“That’s the worst thing that’s happened all day,” You mutter sarcastically, making Soap laugh quietly. He pulls away from you and looks down at you. “It is, actually,” Soap says, and at your confused and mildly offended expression, he adds on, “It’s been over a day since ye got yer leg fucked up.” “… Oh.” You dumbly said, trying to process that. Over a day. “Everyone was really worried about ye, too,” Soap tacks on, refusing to sit on the chair behind him, simply standing by your bed. You stay silent, and Soap takes that as an invitation to keep talking. “I think that's the first time I've actually seen Ghost stressed," Soap muses, making you huff out a small laugh. “Really?” “Yea,” Soap smiles, “I ken. Stone cauld L.t, suddenly worryin’ o’er ye.”

“Isn’t that a surprise,” You mutter, a small smile gracing your lips thinking about Ghost worrying over you, “So you were all really worried?” “Very worried,” Soap nods, “Gaz thocht ye were gonnae die, poor chiel.” “Hm,” You hum neutrally. Soap stays silent for a moment before his voice softens and he quiets himself down a bit. “Try no' tae dae that again, aye? Ye'll gie the captain a heart attack," When you give him a pointed look, he rolls his eyes and adds on, “And me. Possibly. Maybe.” “Uh huh,” You look at him, unimpressed, “Right. I’ll try to predict when a huge piece of concrete is gonna fall on me.” “Ye ken wha’ I meant.”

“Never said I didn’t.” “Ye— y’know wha’? I’ll just leave then,” Soap says, feigning annoyance as he walks away from your bed, making you laugh quietly. He slips out and doesn’t bother to close the curtains behind him, simply walking out the door, not bothering to close that either.

You can hear him letting someone else know you’re ‘free to visit’, and just a few seconds later you watch Ghost walk in. You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are, seeing as Soap had told you Ghost was worried over you, but you still find yourself a little shocked when he walks over to you and closes the curtains behind him. He sits at the chair beside your bed, and silently stares at you from the chair.

You stare back, not blinking, waiting for him to say the first word. You and Ghost’s silent staring match ends with Ghost sighing and speaking up. “How does your… leg feel?” “How do you think it feels?” You ask, deadpan, watching as Ghost’s eyes narrow. You blink at him for another moment before adding on, “It feels numb, right now.” Ghost hums at the actual answer and sits there awkwardly for another moment before stating, “Gaz thought you died. Or, were gonna die.” “I heard about that,” You respond, raising an eyebrow at Ghost, “Did he not know it was just my leg that got hurt?” “Hurt is a mild word,” Ghost mutters, before clearing his throat and saying, “No, he knew. He was more worried about all the stuff that got into your lungs.” “Oh.” “Yeah.”

You both stay silent for a bit, again, before you speak up, “So… are my lungs okay, or… ?” “No, yeah, they’re fine.” “That’s… good.” “Mhm.” Why is this so awkward? You purse your lips and turn your head back so that you’re staring at the ceiling rather than at Ghost, not knowing what to say. Why’d he even come in here if he was just gonna be awkward about this whole thing? It’s silent again, an uncomfortable sort of quiet that’s silent yet deafening at the same time—and you hate it. It seems Ghost hates it too, because he shifts in his seat, not saying anything verbally but you can tell by his body language it’s awkward for him too.

This goes on for maybe a minute or two, when suddenly Ghost gets up and walks the short one step between him and your bed and leans down to hug you. Like the silence, the hug is awkward, but unlike it, it’s comforting. A comfortable awkward? You tentatively hug him back and you feel his hands snake underneath your back, forcing his arms under you so that he can hug you properly.

“I know Soap told you I was stressed and worried and whatnot,” Ghost mutters, his skull mask pressing into your shoulder, “… And he was right.” “… Did you think I thought he was wrong?” “Shut it and let me try to talk.” “Yes, sir.” Ghost sighs and takes a deep breath before continuing, “He was right. I was growing greys watching you passed out, and I think I almost passed out as well, hearing you were trapped under a huge block of concrete and got stabbed by metal.”

“Did you ever find out what the metal was?” You ask after a moment, making sure he was done talking.

“The Captain said it was a twisted pipe.”

“Huh.” You lay there for a moment, simply enjoying Ghost hugging you, before Ghost speaks up again.

“I know it wasn’t your fault, but please, God, never do that shit to me ever again.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m in a collapsing building.”

“I’m serious,” Ghost pulls away from the hug and looks down at you, keeping his hands on both of your shoulders, “I had to drive a car with you in the back passed out laying in the trunk with Price, all while not knowing what happened, and having to drive you guys back to base.”

“… Damn, you guys didn’t get a helicopter, or anything?”

“[c/n].”

“Sorry.”

Ghost sighs, “I’m trying to say that I don’t like worrying over you like that. I don’t like knowing that my kid is hurt, and I can’t do anything about it. That was the first time I was seriously worried and— and stressed over you, and it was terrifying, seeing you just passed out with dirt all over you and blood all over your leg, and just seeing you like that— I can’t do that again,” Ghost takes a deep breath, and looks down at you, trying to gauge your reaction, trying to see what you think of his words, but all you can think is, wait, he called me his kid?

“You called me your kid,” You dumbly voice your thoughts, watching as Ghost’s expression becomes more confused, and he opens his mouth to deny that when suddenly— oh shit, he called you his kid.

“… I did,” He dumbly says back, sounding surprised by his own words, before he fully realizes what he said and simply blinks down at you, not knowing where to go from here. You both blink at each other, not knowing what to say, before he clears his throat.

“I’ll just… head out then,” He awkwardly says, slowly walking away from the bed.

You take the opportunity to say, “Alright, dad.”

He freezes and slowly turns towards you and mutters, “Don’t call me that.”

A grin splits across your face, “Oh I will. Dad.”

He points at you with a single finger, “Don’t. You. Dare.”

“I’ll call you it in front of everyone. I’ll gaslight them into thinking we’re related.”

“God, you better not.”

“I will. In fact, tomorrow, I’ll begin with the Captain. Then I’ll tell Soap, he’s the next most gullible next to Gaz, who I’ll see right after you. Gaz won’t fight with me over it, he’ll just accept it, I know he will, then, and only then, will I tell everyone else. I spread it across the base like the flu. Everyone, and I mean everyone will think that you’re my father, Ghost.”

“That is…” Ghost blinks at you, dumbfounded and mildly horrified, “... terrifying.” “Yeah, I know. Pretty sure I got that from you, dad.” “Oh my God,” Ghost groans, making you laugh at his misery. He walks out without another word, being sure to slam the door behind him, making the poor medic passing by jump at least a foot in the air. You giggle quietly in your bed, waiting for the next person to walk in. By the time you’ve contained your laughter, Gaz walks in, looking strangely sheepish as he walks over to you and closes the curtains behind him that Ghost had forgotten to close. He doesn’t say anything until he’s right by your bed and bends over to give you a nice, firm, quick hug before standing up straight again and clearing his throat. “Hi,” He greets you simply. “Hi.” “How’s the uh… how’s your leg?” “You thought I died?” You ask teasingly, ignoring his question. You can’t see any blush on his face, but you’re almost certain his face heats up as he looks away from you. “Listen…” He sighs, looking back at you, “Price ran over to the whole group, with you not moving at all in his arms, and a tourniquet wrapped around your calf. I feel like it was a bit reasonable for me to think you were dead for a second.” “Right, of course,” You nod, definitely not believing that he only thought you were dead for a second, “That’s totally why I’ve had both Soap and Ghost tell me you thought I was dead. They only told me that because you thought I was dead for a second.” “I’m gonna murder them both, I swear to—” He mutters, burying his face in his hands, making you laugh quietly. He glares at you from behind his hands and adds on, “Oh, you think this is funny? You having a laugh down there, knowin’ that I thought you were dead?”

“I think this is hilarious.” “You’re insufferable and I don’t even know why I try to care about you anymore.” “You don’t try, you just do,” You roll your eyes, “Don’t act like you have to actively try and care about me.” “You’re so snarky today, my God,” Gaz scoffs, “Wait ‘til I tell Captain Price about this.” “Alright, Draco Malfoy. You do that.” “I shouldn’t have ever visited you in here,” He mutters, crossing his arms and looking away from you, feigning annoyance. You huff out a laugh at that and that makes Gaz laugh a bit, though he keeps up his dramatics, continuing to look away from you. “You still think I’m dead now, or?” “Shut it, you.” “My bad.” “I wish they amputated your leg.” “No you don’t.” “…” Gaz can’t even argue with it, simply sighing and rolling his eyes before looking back at you, ”No, I don’t.” “I knew it,” You smile at him knowingly, making his lips twitch up into a smile. You think for a moment before tacking on, “Wanna hear what Ghost said to me?” That makes Gaz perk up and immediately reply, “Oh, absolutely.” Cue you both five minutes later, Gaz gaping at you while you laugh every other word, remember the horror on Ghost's face when he realized what he called you. Gaz covers his mouth with his hand, laughing into it, gripping the rail of your bed with his other hand, keeping himself up.

“He— oh my God,” Gaz laughs, trying to keep quiet so Ghost wouldn’t hear him, knowing the latter was right outside the medbay. He takes a deep breath and another before breaking into small giggles once again, making you do the same. After maybe a few more minutes of just pure laughter, Gaz manages to catch his breath and stop laughing, and you do the same. “I should probably head out now,” He says, sounding almost disappointed by the fact, glancing over at the closed curtain a few feet away from your bed. You nod in understanding and don’t say anything in response, making Gaz look back at you and add on, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow though, yeah?” “Yeah,” You confirm, making Gaz offer you a warm smile and lean down to hug you tightly one last time before getting up and walking over to the curtains, sliding them to the side and walking out, sliding them closed behind him. You hear the click open and shut of the door, as well as Gaz’s footsteps walking outside of the medbay and eventually fading into nothing.

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kazumiwrites-fanfiction · 9 months

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You Can't Swim??

SUMMARY: The Octotrio don't know that you have never learned to swim. And you went to a beach. What could go wrong? WORD COUNT: 1.9k (I need to sleep)

WARNINGS: Floyd almost let you drown, reader kind of gets panic attacks? Idk (I'm the writer I should know, someone hit me), reader thinks about whacking Floyd, Azul is genuinely in love, Azul is also very traumatized I think, Azul overthinks A/N: Gotta love how I have no warnings about Jade I- Gotta love getting a fic idea about me being unable to swim- And I've had this thought swimming (lol) in my thoughts for a couple of days?? Idk if reader is the significant other of these guys or just besties. I think it leans toward s/o though This reads like a crack fic to me but honestly make sure you know how to swim so you don't die (i don't but that's not the point here) Maybe OOC Jade because he hides himself too well for me to get an accurate read on personality lmfao When Jade is genuinely sweet but the others are unhinged so naturally the unhinged ones are longer- I'm sorry I get no decent ideas for Jade </3 Another late late night post (it's 1:50 AM)

You had never learned to swim. It wasn't that you were afraid, really. It was just that you had passed the age where people normally learned, and now you were too lazy to and/or didn't have enough time. Whatever excuse to stop a nagging person.

Now, this wouldn't have been a problem if you never went anywhere near bodies of water. Which you mostly didn't. However, knowing merfolk was not the best idea if you didn't know how to swim.

Now you have gone to the beach with him, and that probably wasn't the best idea for either of you.

Floyd Leech

You had been sitting on the beach near the water, absently looking over some shells as Floyd splashed around deeper in the ocean. The shells really were interesting - nothing like the ones where you had come from (although they had some similarities) and were colorful. So many shapes and varieties, although most were not intact.

You had been so engrossed in this, in fact, that you hadn't realized Floyd had been sneaking up on you. Before you could say another word, he playfully dragged you into the water. While you were fully clothed.

You weren't expecting to go into the water, but you should've known better with Floyd. He was playful and loved to do stuff like this. Usually if Azul was around, he'd have done something… But he wasn't here.

Before you knew it, you were deeper in the ocean than you ever had been before, courtesy to the teal-haired boy swimming and dragging you along. You flailed around a bit, eyes wide in panic. You were, quite honestly, terrified. And it obviously didn't help when Floyd just immediately let you go.

Was he an idiot or was he an idiot?

"Floyd-" You got out before coughing as water shot up your nose, still flailing miserably. It didn't work. You didn't know what to do. Surely, Floyd would help… If he realized what was going on. No matter what you thought, he was bright, wasn't he?

Not bright enough, it seemed, as he was still laughing and not realizing how actually panicked you were.

"Koebi-chan, you look so ridiculous like that," he laughed, almost in hysterics, and you would've smacked him if you weren't so close to actually dying.

And then you sunk.

Your desperate attempts to go to the surface were pointless as you didn't even know how to float or move around in the water.

After a few seconds, Floyd finally noticed you were gone and quickly dove under the surface. Maybe you were trying to get him back?

But his gaze immediately widened as he saw you literally sinking to the ocean floor. His eel tail moved quickly, almost without thinking as he shot to grab you and take you up, up, up so you could actually breathe.

When you came to, you were on the sandy beach again, Floyd leaning over you. His eyes, normally filled with a joking light, were unusually subdued.

"Koebi-chan, why didn't you tell me you couldn't swim?" A pout grew on Floyd's face. "If I knew, I wouldn't have-"

"Yes you would have. We would still be here, just having a different conversation."

"But-"

"No buts."

"I would've made it more fun-"

"Drowning in the ocean is the opposite of fun, Floyd-"

~Bonus because I don't know how to fit one into the story~ "I can teach you how to swim. You just go whoo and let your body move. Y'know. Like dancing." "No, I don't know, Floyd, and this is not going to help me with anything-"

Jade Leech

Jade had been spending his time on the beach with you, but you were almost certain that he wanted to be swimming in the ocean. It was his natural element, after all.

"Jade, you sure you don't want to go in the water?"

"I'm fine staying here with you, [Y/N]." He gave you a soft smile.

You shook your head. "We've come all the way here, you might as well go swim." You gave him a gentle nudge.

"Well, I'd like you to come with me, if that is possible?" He watched you quietly. "You never go swimming with me."

You paused. Although it was sweet that he wanted you to go with him… "No, I don't think so…" You trailed off. You never liked telling people that you couldn't swim. At this point, it was embarrassing.

The pair of heterochromia eyes staring at you only left you feeling more jittery. "…I, er… I can't swim. So going into the ocean with you sounds kind of like… A bad idea." You froze. "Did you use your Signature Spell on me?"

"Of course not, [Y/N]." Jade stared at you with eyes of hurt, one that looked almost identical to that of his twin's. Only, it was almost obvious that Jade didn't mean the hurt in his eyes. "You just trust me enough to say things to me."

You couldn't deny the truth there. You trusted Jade. "And you wouldn't use your Signature Spell on something so trivial, would you?"

"No, I would not." He shrugged. "On a different note, I can help you learn how to swim."

"I really don't need it-"

"What if someone tries to hurt you one day and they know your weakness?"

"Why would-"

"It's an example, [Y/N]. But if that person decides to do that, you wouldn't be able to do anything. So I should help you in case that scenario occurs."

You sighed softly. "Fine, I guess I can take lessons from you… If it's not too much of a hassle."

"Of course it would not be a hassle or anything of the sort." Jade inclined his head. "All to help you stay safe."

The day went on with Jade helping you learn the basics of swimming - he was a good teacher, which you were happy about. He was patient, and always was there if you ever started to panic.

"We wouldn't want you getting scared of the ocean now, would we?"

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul had gotten used to you after a couple months. Sure, he hadn't opened up to many people in a while (only Floyd and Jade, but they also teased him constantly about everything, so), but you were soothing and nice. Sure, you teased him sometimes, but it was different. It didn't feel mean, you stopped as soon as you noticed him looking a little uncomfortable, and… He honestly felt like he could open up about anything.

So when it was decided that you two were going to the beach - together - alone? It kind of made him very messed up.

Would you like being at the beach with him? He wasn't completely against showing his octopus form… Would you want him to swim with you? Was he even ready for that?

Those thoughts led him down a spiral, and the day you two were to go, he had bags under his eyes and looked like he was half-dead.

You gently nudged him, murmuring how he should've tried to get more sleep for this day supposedly filled with fun, but he just shrugged.

Soon, you were at the beach, and as Azul saw your smiling face, his gaze softened a little. He loved seeing your happy face.

"C'mon!" You grabbed Azul's hand as you started to run to the water, ignoring his surprised stumbling as he was dragged along. He had a light flush on his cheeks that he was glad you couldn't see.

Soon, you had reached the edge of the water, splashing around in your sandals. It was really fun, even though you knew that you were going to be getting sand in your toes later on.

Azul just kind of watched on, a relaxed expression on his face. This really was soothing… Although he was still thinking about if the Mostro Lounge would be okay with him gone. Surely Jade would do something if Floyd got into trouble… Hopefully. And hopefully, no more dishes would break.

"What are you looking so glum for?" Your voice brought him back to his senses.

"Nothing, just hoping that Jade and Floyd can take care of things at the Mostro Lounge." He sighed softly.

"Oh, I'm sure they'll be fine. Jade's there, right?"

"He can cause as much trouble as Floyd, you know. Although he won't be outright about it." Azul shook his head, a small frown on his face.

"C'mon, turn that frown upside down." You moved closer to him, gently squishing his cheeks. "Today is for having fun, Azul."

"Yes, yes, I know." Azul couldn't help himself; he let out a soft laugh. A genuine one.

You smiled brightly. "You aren't charging me for hearing your little cute laugh?"

"I will charge you if you call it cute."

"Of course you will." You rolled your eyes before abruptly changing the subject. "So are you not going to swim?"

Azul paused. Did you want him to swim? To see his true form? There was an even chance. What should his answer be? "Er… I don't know?"

"Of course you don't have to, Azul, I just thought… I mean, there's no one around." You shrugged a little.

And now more pressure on Azul. Great. He was used to dealing with pressure, yes. Just not this kind from you. "Er… Would you come swim with me?" If you were with him, then maybe…

"No." Your lips parted, maybe to offer an explanation, but it was too late.

Azul was in a downward spiral. Why had you said no? Perhaps octopi merfolk were really too much. Perhaps you would rather be with someone with a pretty tailfin than tentacles. Or maybe a human, one of your own kind. Who said that you even liked him at all? Perhaps you were only with him out of pity, because he was that useless, chubby, good-for-nothing-

"Azul? Azul, are you listening to me?"

He snapped back to attention.

"Seriously, are you okay? Did you seriously get enough sleep last night?" You sighed.

"That's none of your-"

"It is if you're literally zoning out every five seconds." You rolled your eyes. "And anyway, I was just saying that I kind of can't go deeper into the ocean where you probably feel comfortable swimming. Because I can't swim." You shrugged nonchalantly.

But for Azul, it felt like a figurative bomb had been dropped.

You? Couldn't swim? Now that he thought about it, it did make sense… How you always looked so awkward and uncomfortable with water, especially when you came to the Octavinelle dorm. But seriously? How could you not know how to swim?

"Is not knowing how to swim… Normal?"

"Definitely not." You rolled your eyes. "But I'm just too lazy to learn now. And I have no time."

"You do if you have time to scroll on Magicam." Finally, Azul felt a bit better. At least you didn't hate him.

"And this time, I'll teach you how to swim. I'll even do it free of charge." Azul shook his head. "Seeing as I'm so generous."

"You sound like headmage Crowley."

"Do be quiet."

Azul was a pretty good teacher. He ended up not turning into his octopus form until nearly the end of the day, you were practicing your swimming and then just playing around on the sand, building sand castles, anything that you might do at a normal beach outing.

His octopus form was beautiful (as expected), and although you couldn't go to deeper waters, you enjoyed seeing him swim around, always eventually coming back to you.

"Today was truly relaxing, [Y/N]. We should do this again another time."

As always, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! ♡ Send your thoughts grr

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seonghwaddict · 9 months

Text

in your arms — choi san

request by @sankatchu. “Just saw ur seonghwa angst and it absolutely destroyed my heart but since I am a wreck for angst could you write the most heart breaking angst (with a happy ending bc as much as I love it I can’t deal with no comfort 😍) for my man sannn <3 ?”

pairing. choi san x reader. genre. heavy angst, comfort. warnings. argument, car crash, injury description, a lot of crying, hospitalisation, pet name (my love). wc. 1117 words. (i would usually write 1.1k but this was too cute sorry not sorry).

[ listening to . . . ] lovememore. by dosii.

　　　　　　　　　main masterlist

your whole world shattered within a day and there’s nothing you’ll regret more than letting it happen. it was a day like any other, but soon enough small irritations that accumulated over the course of months finally snapped and caused an argument with your boyfriend and the love of your life, choi san.

the relationship you two had was always very loving and despite being together for nearly a year, you were proud to say you never had any serious fights with him. until today, you supposed. there wasn’t really a point to the argument but you figured he must’ve been stressed from work—comebacks were always a bit hectic—and neither of you had been getting much sleep.

“just stop being so selfish and so self-righteous and leave me be for a seco-”

“get out.”

his anger faltered for just a moment before it was back, much more visible than before; his shoulders tensed and his fists clenched. “what?”

“i said get out. you said you wanted me to let you be, so leave. get out and come back when you’re ready to talk this through properly.”

The subject of it didn’t really matter anyway and you couldn’t even remember everything that was said, just the way your heart shattered when he walked out of your apartment with a slam of the front door behind him. even though the sadness of it all hit you as soon as he was gone, your rage never settled. how dare he talk to you so harshly? san was a painfully soft man—gentle words and tender touches. you’d never seen him like that.

san wasn’t sure where to go at first, but soon enough he was in his car, driving down the nearly empty streets at one in the morning and heading to the dorms he shared with his members. buildings rushed past him and soon enough his rigid posture relaxed, his hands on the steering wheel loosening as he sighed deeply. he contemplated turning the car around to go back and apologise, but before he could he felt the air being knocked out of his lungs as the screech of tired ripped through the air.

for a moment everything was silent, san’s ears ringing as he slowly started to figure out his bearings. the car was flipped sideways as his left shoulder was pressed against the shattered glass of the window and the concrete of the ground. his thoughts were slow, a sluggish attempt to keep him awake as he tried to move his limbs. he ignored any injuries he had, his hand reaching for his very cracked phone as he called the first person that came to mind. you.

but you didn’t pick up.

so he left you a voicemail, the high pitch of sirens already approaching in the background. with a final “i love you” he ended the message, coughing just after as he clicked his seatbelt off and slumped against the ground. after a few more breaths, he let his eyes close.

you were positively hysterical once you finally listened to the voicemail, hot tears running down your cheeks as you rushed to the nearest hospital that they must’ve taken him to. after talking to the receptionist and figuring out where his room was, you burst inside the room and stopped in your tracks.

his members were there, looking pale scattered around the room in varying states of distress, but you barely registered them as your heart sank. there were a few cuts and bruises blossoming on the sharp features of his face, a small plaster taped on his forehead. his left shoulder was wrapped in bandages as well as his right wrist. someone hugged you tightly as they cried into your shoulder, you didn’t really care who, though you figured it was wooyoung judging by the familiar smell, but your eyes stayed fixated on the unconscious, fragile body of san, the monitor next to him beeping at a steady pace.

once he let go of you and told you they had to leave for schedules since the company didn’t want fans to worry too much, you took some tentative steps to the hospital bed. even though he looked quite beaten up, he still had that tenderness about him. with a frown and small furrow to your eyebrows, you let your fingers trace of the scratched on his hand.

before you knew it, you were sitting on chair you pulled next to the bed, holding onto his hand for dear life as you laid your head on his lap, not caring that your tears were staining the pristine white blanket. eventually, you fell asleep like that.

the next morning you stirred awake, a familiar hand brushing through your hair. a small noise leaving your lips as you turned your head and looked up. suddenly you had the energy of five redbulls as you jumped up and embraced him tightly, ignoring the fact you were probably suffocating him as tears began streaming again.

“i’m s-so so sorry, are you okay?” you told him through sobs and sniffles, “god, i’m so stupid and you’re right, i’m selfish and i should’ve just shut up, t-this is all my fault.”

san lifted his right hand to pat your arm gently before grasping it and pulling you away from him with the same slowness. as your tearful eyes looked into his strikingly soft ones, his hand moved so he could wipe away your tears. “i’m okay, none of this is your fault. i never meant a single word i said, you’re not selfish and fuck i would never want you to shut up. i should be the one apologising, my love.”

you lips trembled as you nodded slowly. “b-but if i never made you leave this wouldn’t have happened, it is my fault.”

“whatever happened, happened. please, don’t beat yourself up over this.” he pulled you close to him and his lips pressed heartfelt kisses to your hair as you buried your face in his uninjured shoulder, one on the nape of your neck and the other rubbing your back. “it’s okay, i’m okay, love.”

“i should be the one comforting you.”

he chuckled and moved his hand from your neck to your cheek, guiding you to face him before leaning up to press his lips against yours. it was a firm kiss, wordless reassurance that he knew you needed as you melted against him and pressed yourself closer. his lips left yours too soon for your liking as he pressed more fluttering kisses on your cheeks, stopping your tears in the tracks, leaning back as he pressed one last kiss to the tip of your nose.

“i already find comfort in your arms.”

　　[ lilo's notes ... ] this ended up being a lot sadder than i intended but i hope you like it sankatchu!! writing angst is honestly so much fun but sometimes my heart can’t take it

　　[ network ... ] @cromernet @blankjournal

　　[ perm taglist ... ] @ad0rechuu @sankatchu

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sparrowrye · 2 months

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Alastor x Fem! Reader {soulmates} Part 2

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies you also die. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes.

Part 2 summary: Escape is futile

Part Pilot

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And the winner is Python!"

I turned my head from the bloody sight. I had brutally murdered an innocent fighter like myself. But I had to do it. It was my only chance out of here and they were far too mentally gone to even have a chance at a normal life.

I pushed myself up on one foot and limped to the gate. The crowd above roared my fighter name and bets were being collected. My master picked me up and looked down at my injured foot. Usually a head collar was strapped on to keep me from using magic against him, but he had recently gotten more comfortable without it.

I flicked my wrist behind his back. The sweat from my forehead jumped off and sliced through his throat. He dropped me and fell, clutching his throat. I scrambled to my feet and bolted around the cages containing my brothers and sisters in fighting. I ran past the unknowing guard at the gate and into the crowd.

I could taste the sweet taste of freedom beyond those fences. All I had to do was hide in the woods until dawn. It was easy. The crowd didn't know what was happening and people often tried to run out on a poor bet. No one would interfere.

Except one.

Rope wrapped around my throat and snapped my head backwards. The force slammed my back into the cold ground. I coughed violently as I pulled the rope loose. Spit fell out of my lips as I looked up. Standing on the other end of the rope was Striker, a Full mage who liked to terrify others with his illusionist demonic appearance.

He pulled on the rope and it tightened again. I slipped my hand under it and tried to dig my chin between my neck and it. He pulled even tighter, rougher, and pulled me forward, forcing me to fall on my stomach. I sent wind and dirt but he casted a shield of around himself.

I looked to the side and pretended to lift something. His glance was all I needed. I leaned forward and pulled the rope over my head. I barely made two steps before something caught my foot. I tried to pull that one off but the ropes kept coming. My neck, my shoulder, my wrist, and my knee. I flailed and threw every magic I could at his ropes. Yet it did nothing. A Slight hand was no match for a Full mage.

Henchmen appeared and pulled the ropes in different directions. It was mere seconds to have me completely immobile on the cold ground. Striker stepped inches from my face before kneeling down and grabbing my chin. He lifted the rope around my neck at the same time, painfully contorting my neck in what felt like a 90 degree angle.

"Looks like you're mine now, sweetheart," he purred, "'til the day you die." He let go of my head and my face slammed down into the pavement.

I jerked my head up from the pillow with a yelp. I found myself in an old, dusty room with sunlight streaming in from the window. I sat up and examined every inch of the room. How the hell did I get here?

I tried to think past the nightmare but was met with a mental block. Who's house was this? Why am I here? When did I change into a white gown? Who's bed is this?

I put my feet on the cold carpet and padded over to the window. I looked out at a wide open sea and a sheer cliff-face. That's when it connected. I had evaded the worse fighter master for five years and landed right in the claws of the Radio Demon.

A light knock came at the door. I dove into the corner and put my hand up, ready to cast at a moment's notice. But the person who entered wasn't the Radio Demon, but a different one. He resembled a combination of a cat and bird, his entire body covered in gray and white fur and his wings a gorgeous bright red. He had a black top hat sitting between his ears.

"You're awake," he said, "Good. Your clothes are in the wardrobe. Alastor wants to speak with you before he leaves so hurry up." He shut the door.

My neck hairs bristled at being told what to do. I didn't waste five years of freedom to be told what to do again solely because my soul happened to be bound to the worse Full mage of the century.

Yet there was nothing I could do.

I opened the wardrobe to find old dresses that looked like they were from the 1930s. Maybe the 40s or 50s? They were old, that much was obvious. Not my style, either.

Now he's dressing me.

I swallowed hard and picked a long skirt and button down. I locked myself in the bathroom, grateful that it had a lock, and quickly dressed. The sink had a bowl of water in it which told me this old house didn't have working pipes.

I gently splashed my eyes with the ice cold water to wake myself up. I found an old brush in one of the drawers and brushed out my messy hair. It had taken nearly three years to really understand how to take care of this hair. I had grown it out after escaping the rings to make myself more unnoticeable.

I let out a sigh. I closed my eyes and took a moment to ready myself for the next encounter with the mage. He couldn't kill me. He would kill himself in the process. If he tried to keep my in a cage like the others a little self harm should do the trick. I had options. I could handle this. I had handled worse. Right?

Outside the room wasn't much better off. The floorboards caved under my weight and spewed dust up in my face. I sneezed a few times on my way down, careful not to touch anything in case it disintegrated upon contact.

The staircase to the foyer was tight and narrow. I could clearly see the deep purple and dark brown accents of the house now. It didn't exactly look pretty. Though I couldn't imagine much thought was put into any part of this old house.

I turned at the last step to find my soulmate standing by the cold fire. He seemed to be looking at something before he spun to face me. His eyes looked me from head to toe and back again. My fingers tightened into a fist subconsciously.

"Mm, it'll do." I bristled at the comment but he crossed the living room in seconds to stand in front of me. I took a step back. "How did you sleep?"

"Fine."

"Come sit, I have much to tell you before I leave." He stepped to the side and gestured to the room. His other hand was behind his back holding his cane; the cane that made me feel like I was always being watched with the creepy little eye on it.

I looked up at his red eyes before forcing myself to walk into the room and sit on one of the hideous old chairs. He sat on the other one on the opposite side of the fireplace and crossed his legs elegantly. I crossed my ankles and put my hands in my lap. I hated dresses but I had watched enough women and explored the internet enough to know how to sit 'properly'. He seemed like the type to correct me on manners.

"I'll make this simple since I have places to be," he started, "My rules are very simple. Rule number one, you're not to leave the premises. You have until the tree-line before you're considered off this property. Rule number two, you can go anywhere in the house except for my room and office. They're beside each other on the second floor. Don't worry, they're locked so you can't mistake them for another room." His eyes narrowed a tad. "Rule number three, don't bother me. You can do anything you like, request nearly anything from Husker, but do not disturb me."

"May I ask a question?" I ventured. My head was tilted down a little and my eyes glared up at him.

"Yes you may." He laid his cane on his lap.

"If you want nothing to do with me, why the hell are you keeping me here?"

"Silly girl," he chuckled, "I told you last night. I need not worry about my soulmate dying in wasteful ring fights. If you die, I die. Not to mention, if people discovered we were connected you would undoubtedly find yourself against very powerful mages that could kill you in half a second." I gritted my teeth, unsure of how to respond. "And as I said last night, you should be grateful that I'm providing you with a safe haven."

"A safe haven that's about to collapse?" I remarked, looking around at the dusty boards and picking at the old ratted chair.

"Well," he laughed, "if you're bored you could always fix up the place."

"Can't you do that with your oh-so-powerful magic?"

"I have more important things to use my magic on. Besides, your Slight magic should be enough to fix up the things you need." I was about to argue when he abruptly stood up. "Well, I must be going now. I do hope I won't have to remind you of my rules. They are rather simple and easy to follow. Good day." He didn't bother to use the door, disappearing into the shadows and melting into the floor.

I stared at where he had disappeared for a long moment. My eyes then trailed around the room, examining its every inch. It was quiet. Too quiet.

Boards creaked and I looked over to see Husker appearing from the hallway. "I'm sorry to hear that you have a shitty soulmate," he said, sounding genuinely apologetic.

"I never believed in soulmates, really." I stood up to walk over to him. We looked roughly the same height until I got closer and discovered to be a few inches taller. "Is there a reason why you're...here? With him?"

"I'm under Alastor's service for an extended period of time," he answered, turning back down the hallway. I followed him through the narrow entryway and came to an old kitchen. "He told me I'm to fulfill most of your requests."

"Why do you listen to him?"

"For my own reasons," he growled, "I'm not about to let you run off, if that's what you're trying to get at. He can't kill you but he can kill me, and he will if I let you run off."

"Right." I quietly left the room to explore the rest of the house. Next to the kitchen was the dinning room. It was full of random old furniture that looked like someone had dumped the insides of a victorian home here. It circled back to the staircase and sitting room. On the other side of the sitting room was a library study. The books looked like they were nests for spiders, moths, and bookworms.

Upstairs had another sitting room but was mostly filled with old bedrooms and bathrooms. I quickly discovered which rooms belonged to Alastor. Directly across from 'my' bedroom were two locked doors side by side. So long as he came and went at early or late hours of the day, I could avoid him easy.

Escaping shouldn't be hard, though. A pang of guilt went through me as I thought of Husker having to deal with the repercussions. He was obviously a Full mage if he could conjure up a demonic illusion like that. Though what for while he was here, I'm not sure. Perhaps a scare tactic. I shook the thought from my head. I had killed people with my bare hands on the concept of "Me or them". This would be no different.

"Say," I found Husker drinking something in the kitchen, "could we fix the pipes so we can have running water?"

Husker shrugged. "Sure. You want to help?" The side glance his black eyes made me want to incline.

"Sure."

Outside had a cool, ocean breeze crossing the field. I instantly found the tree line Alastor spoke of. The first challenge of escaping would be crossing the field. There was nothing to hide behind or use for a shield. I had to buy time to cross the field and take shelter in the dense trees.

Husker went to the side of the house where an old well stood a few paces from it. He put his hands on the ground and seemed to search through the earth. A moment later he snapped his black eyes open and looked up at me.

"Clean out the well and dig further down until you reach water." He said as he pointed to the stoned circle. I stood on the side that put it between me and Husker. I had heard too many tales of people losing their life to a deep well.

Husker fixed the pipes underground and through the house while I fixed the source. I knew my next request to him was to allow me more clothes that fit my style. And more pants. I kept quiet until the brown water turned into pristine, clear running water from all the faucets.

I dried my hands on my dress in the kitchen and asked, "How did you know I had magic?"

"Alastor told me."

"Right."

"I've also seen you in the fight rings before."

"You what?" I bristled.

"Relax," he grabbed the same bottle from the counter, "I wasn't a master or anything. I was running the bets and gambling." That didn't make me feel any better. How could he just let them keep those fights going? His appearance gave me my answer.

So I changed the subject. "How would you suggest I ask you for different clothes? These aren't exactly right for me." I looked down at the elongated skirt.

He let out a sigh and pulled out a phone. My heart quickened. "Find what you're looking for and screenshot what you want. Then tell me your size."

"You know, that's not exactly how sizes for women work," I tried. "One size in one store could be very different than another."

"Then pick one store and tell me what sizes," he replied. My heart dropped and I took the phone from him.

****

I gave myself a week before my first escape attempt. I had to know Alastor's schedule and Husker's routine. I also need to ensure they weren't bracing for my first attempt. A week should be long enough, surely.

Alastor left in the mornings before or right at dawn and returned at some point well after dusk. Husker preferred to be in the living room or on the outside porch drinking alcohol. I guessed that he had some kind of magic that kept the effects of alcohol to a minimum so he could still keep an eye on me. I made it a habit to join him on the porch most of the time, reading the one book I could think of off the top of my head for him to get.

Alastor had made two more rules since my arrival. Well, one official rule and one implicit. The explicit one was no unsupervised internet access. No phone, no computer, nothing. I had no connection to the outside world.

The implicit rule was my clothing style. Any 'modern' clothing that was even close to being considered immodest disappeared from my wardrobe the next day. This meant he was keeping a close eye on me despite his rules to keep as much distance between the two of us as possible. I had to be careful. I didn't know what type of magic he was using and if he could see me at any point.

But I was ready.

It was a blue evening, the setting sun hidden behind a raincloud. The rain hadn't quite reached us yet but the strong gusts were moving the clouds closer and closer. As much as I didn't want to escape on a rainy night, it was the best chance I had. Muddy conditions and rain made it difficult to see and operate in. For most people. Most likely for Full mages who were used to having everything handed to them on a plate thanks to their power.

Husker had just finished another one of his whiskey bottles and went inside for another. I whispered an apology as the door closed and I stood up from my chair. I used my magic to push against the wood from underneath so they didn't creak. I jumped the stairs and as soon as my feet hit the grass I ran.

I pushed wind against my back to help carry me across the field. My heart pounded in my ears as I reached the tree line and disappeared behind the closest large tree. I sank to the ground and peaked around the tree. I didn't see Husker yet.

I turned and ran further into the forest. The wind from the storm made it easy to maneuver through the dense forest. I had no idea where the closest town or city was but I needed to put as much distance between me and the house as possible.

There was no notion of time as I kept running. My legs burned and chest hurt but I didn't dare stop until I could barely stand. I pushed through the pain and veered off to the side, hoping they would search in the other direction. The rain had started and trees bent against the strong winds, pushing back as best they could. I took this as my cue to find a hiding spot until the storm cleared up.

I picked one of the trees and started pulling up the dirt and roots. I would dig myself a little burrow and wait out the storm. The wind pulled aggressively on my clothes and hair. It felt incredibly strong for a storm and it made my blood run cold. I frantically looked around in search of the bright red of Alastor's coat or Husker's wings. This wasn't natural wind. This was from magic. They were searching for me.

The trees practically uprooted themselves as the wind pushed against them, opening the forest floor to the sky for a moment. I briefly saw Husker's red wings in the sky before the trees cut my line of sight. I dove to the side before the trees opened again. I felt like a field mouse running from a coyote in the field grass.

Husker dropped through the canopy and locked eyes with me. He curled his claws inward and the tree branches reached for me. I pushed against them with wind and snaked through their reaches. I stayed as close to the ground as I possibly could. I needed someplace to defend, somewhere that he couldn't reach me. The forest was proving to be a horrible idea.

Wind and fire were my best friends as I evaded and burned the branches that grabbed at me. Husker went back to the skies and attempted to create a wall with the trees. A branch caught my foot and dragged me towards its trunk. I opened the earth near it and pulled its roots up. I used the storm and pushed the tree all the way down. I jumped into the ditch and pulled the roots back over me, partially covering me from the sky. Husker flapped overhead, arms crossed.

I dug into the earth and filled it up behind me. The further down I went the farther I was from the reach of the trees. Several times he tried to catch me with the roots but he couldn't see me anymore. I had broken his line of sight. That's how you defeat a Full mage, I realized. If the mage couldn't see you, then they didn't know what they were doing.

I picked a random direction and started tunneling again. I didn't get far, though, as I realized my great fault. I had filled most of the earth behind me and it cut off my airway. It was freezing this far down and I was lacking oxygen. I was suffocating. I was already sweating and exhausted but not I was truly fighting for my life.

Praying that they were digging after me in the original spot, I start tunneling back up. Going up was far easier than going down but I was already exhausted, physically, mentally, and magically. I had to take several stops, struggling to breathe.

After what felt like an hour, I reached tree roots. I grabbed hold of one and used the last of my magic strength to pull myself through the dirt. I clambered through the dirt and sucked in the fresh air. I frantically looked around, half expecting Husker to jump on me from behind. But he was nowhere in sight. The light rain had turned into a downpour but the tree I was under gave me enough shelter from it.

I looked around for several moment before collapsing against the trunk. I took deep breaths of the sweet fresh air and let the rain drops patter on my face. Had I done it? Were they digging after me or looking elsewhere for my tunnel exit? It didn't matter. I just needed a few minutes to recover.

"Well done."

My breathing caught in my throat. I looked up to see Alastor leaning against the tree staring down at me. His smile was still plastered on his face and the sarcasm was heavy. I scrambled to my feet and backed away from him.

"I must say I'm impressed that you managed to evade Husker but I'm sorely disappointed that you can't follow simple instructions." He was leaning forward enough this he was at my eye level and creeping towards me.

“I'm disappointed you thought I would just stay put like a pet," I returned with heavy breathing. I was so tired. I didn't know if I had the energy to run from him.

He chuckled at my retort. "I knew you would attempt to run. You watched my schedule. You knew I wouldn't be back until later. I know exactly how your mind works."

“Do you, now?" Using my peripherals, I willed the roots from the nearest tree to uproot and wrap around his legs, making sure not to touch him yet. "Then you'll know that a cornered animal fights back until they die." I snapped the roots tightly around him. He looked down and I ran. I was so tired but desperation kept my blood boiling in all my fights.

I used the strong wind and rode it into the sky. I threw myself as high as I could and looked around. It was nothing but trees. No town, no city, no house, absolutely no sign of humanity. I was in the middle of nowhere.

I dropped into the trees and hide among the branches, eyes desperately scanning the ground. I leaned back to sit on my heels but the strength in my arm had disappeared. I lost my grip on the branch and fell backwards, hitting branches on my way down.

I landed hard on my back and felt a crack run through my spine. I sucked in a gasp of air and stared up at the gray sky. I gripped at the wet grass and tried to pull my strength back in. Alastor appeared above me a moment later, smiling down at my paralyzed body. He knelt beside my head so his ugly yellow smile came closer to my face.

"This suites you," he said, "this desperation. You're trying so hard to escape no matter what it does or if it kills you." He pushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. "Unfortunately for you, it matters to me because we share the same fate."

"Fuck you."

His smile lessened slightly. "I'll add another rule for you to follow." He grabbed my throat and hoisted me to my feet. His claws dug painfully into my skin until I could feel my blood soaking my shirt. He pushed me against a tree and leaned in close to my face. I pulled on his wrist and tried not to cough in his face. "Rule number five. Never speak to me in such a way again." He paused. "Words like that are unbefitting for a woman."

"You can..." I struggled to speak clearly, "you can...keep me here but...but I'm...but I will not play...play by your rules." My heart was racing as his grip tightened even more so. He dies if you die. He dies if you die. I repeated in my head.

He let go of me and I fell face first into the ground. I gasped and coughed up spit as I rubbed my throat. "Give it time." I saw his feet walk around to stand in front of me. "I can be very persuasive."

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin husk #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #soulmates #soulmate au

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kingconia · 8 months

Note

hi! are your requests open (feel free to delete this ask if not)? i love ur writing style! i’d like to request hcs of leona with an s/o who gets sick easily.. like if it’s cold, they’re sick but if it’s hot they’re also sick. my immune system is weak irl and i’d love to see this written (only if u can tho!!)

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR WITH S/O, WHO GETS SICK EASILY

— Leona grew up around beastmen, and other specific creatures, who rarely get sick, thanks to their strong immune system. So, when Leona notices how often you catch cold, he is absolutely confused;

— He is not even sure how it happens? Leona always makes sure to wrap some additional clothes around you, when it is chilly outside, and yet, you wake up with temperature as you cough your lungs out;

— You explain that it is natural for you, something that had been happening in your previous life too, and that yours immune system is that weak. Leona still having a hard time to proceed this fact;

— When winter ends, bringing back a warm and familiar to him weather, Leona relaxes. Surely, you are not going to fall sick in the spring, right? Right?!

— He is wrong. And desperate;

— The fact that you yourself don't even pay attention to your state, irritates him even more. What do you mean that's normal?! You can die! (He is such a drama queen, but isn't that sweet?);

— When Leona brings you to the Afterglow Savanna, thinking that there you will be safe here from any kind of diseases, and you still manage to lay down with temperature, Leona gives up;

— Or not really? He still thinks that, perhaps, there is some potion to fix the problem! And he is sure about being able to figure it out, sooner or later;

— But for now, Leona can take care of you! His laziness means nothing, when it is a question of your health;

— He can easily feed you, bring you medicine, and generally sit with you, when you are feeling weaker than usual. And if you sleep a lot, when you are ill, it is a perfect bonus!

— Leona will never admit, but he secretly likes being able to pamper you so much. A proud lion taking care of his great lioness!

•

”...Leona?”

”Hm-m?”

You open your mouth, but close it again, when you meet these emerald eyes of his.

There is a question you are meaning to ask him for a while, but all your attempts fail. Either because you get too nervous about to this topic, or because Leona distracts you effectively.

”Well?” He raises his eyebrows. ”Spit it out, herbivore.”

You scrunch your nose, watching him to put more meat on your plate. Leona seriously needs to stop calling ’herbivore’, when all he does it feeds you with meat...

”Don't you get annoyed?”

”I am always annoyed,” he chuckles with unhidden amusement.

”No way,” you roll your eyes. ”I mean... Don't you get annoyed that I am sick all the time? It is not fun to have me around, you know.”

Well, it is not like you are chained to the bed on the daily basis, of course! There are always weeks, when you have no troubles in paradise at all; much like right now. Yet, it still bothers you.

”And I am the fun to have around?” Leona huffs.

You shrug.

It is Leona. He might have a specific character—and a streak for angry issues—but deep inside, he is truly nice and comforting person. And, funny. Especially, when he mocks the headmaster.

“Oi, herbivore, are you serious?” He blinks, a genuine surprise paints his face for a second, before he sighs. ”Where it comes from?”

Well, it is only natural to be plugged by these thoughts. That is how things worked in your previous worlds, after all. You were troublesome in eyes of others—and your own—and even kind jokes from your friends about this matter, made you feel bad about yourself.

”Listen,” Leona frowns. ”I am not annoyed. What about I should be annoyed? It is how your immune system works, that's it.”

”Yeah, but,” you gesture vaguely in the air, ”I am not really a sport person, so we can't share some quality time together. And I even caught the fly, when we were in Savanna. Which was extremely embarrassing, by the way. And—”

Leona catches your hand in his, letting out another exasperated sigh. You instantly cut your speech, carefully starting to study an expression on his face.

”Tch. First of all, we have chess matches—that what am I calling a good quality time,” of course, he does. He wins all the time. ”Secondly... Yeah, of course, I was freaking out, when you got sick in Savanna—I mean, had you seen the fucking weather here?—but, you gave me a mighty excuse not only to skip meetings with Falena, but also sit without Cheka for a while. If it wasn't fun for you, sorry. But it was the best holidays in my life.”

You scoff.

Prince Cheka wasn't allowed in your chambers back then, his mother being worried that he might catch cold from you. And Leona seemed indeed happy by that...

”You are such an ass—”

”I am acting irritated sometimes,” he continues, ignoring your remark. ”But, I am not mad at you. If anything, I am just frustrated about how useless I am.”

Ah, what a sweetheart.

Your faces softens instantly, and your hand grips his tightly.

”...I love you.”

”Yeah, just no need to thank me. You are a perfect justification for missing classes, you know?”

...Nevermind.

”Leona, fuck o... Achoo!”

His lips curl in a smirk.

”Oh, seems like I am about to miss housewardens' meeting. Again. What a shame.”

You hate Leona sometimes. You really do.

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader

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son-of-a-top-gun · 4 months

Text

Sky's the Limit (part 1)

Hello all, so I rewatched Top Gun Maverick last night and was inspired to finally finish this enemies-to-lovers series I've had in my drafts for literally months featuring everyone's fav sexy asshole Hangman!

Warnings: two idiots as usual, Jake being arrogant, innuendo, author fem!reader

Sky's The Limit

You take off your glasses and slump your face into your hands. You had been staring at the same blank document for the last two hours and still had not typed a single word. You hear the bar door swing open and chatter filling the bar, but you do not look away, instead keeping your face in your palms.

When your Aunt Penny had offered you the chance to stay with her in sunny San Diego over the summer to finish your long-awaited second book, you practically leapt at the chance. Back in New York, your agent, publisher and frankly every literary magazine were rabidly awaiting the next brilliant idea from bestselling debut author ‘Sky Bentley’. What you couldn’t tell them was that ‘Sky’ didn’t have a single clue what that brilliant idea was. So you had leapt at the chance to not be Sky, just for a little bit, while you tried to figure out your next steps.

You had only been in San Diego less than 12 hours before scuttling down to the Hard Deck. You had loved spending your summers here as a teenager, but hadn’t managed to come back since graduating from NYU. You had tried writing in the house this morning, but Amelia had some friends around and you couldn’t think with all their excitable chatter, so here you were. You knew the bar was pretty empty during the day, but the day was rapidly turning to evening and it was becoming less quiet. But you could tune it out. Until.

“You know darlin’, this is a bar not a library right?”

***

When Jake Seresin walked into the Hard Deck that day, he had assumed it was just another quiet evening as usual. He had strolled over to the pool table as usual, confident that he would win, as usual, when something caught his eye. Unusual.

There was a person sat in a booth, who was…working? It was hard to discern much, except they were wearing a baggy Top Gun T-shirt and what looks like short shorts, although they are sitting cross legged so it’s hard to tell. Judging by this and the messy bun, he thought it might be a girl, but he wasn’t not sure. They had a computer out, but their head was slumped in their hands, with glasses strewn to the side. He had never seen anyone try to work in the Hard Deck in the whole time he has been coming here, especially not at 5pm on a Friday.

“Who’s that?” He asked Javy, who is setting up the balls.

“Damned if I know.” Jake looked over in thought. Javy elbows Payback. “Hey, maybe we’ve found a girl in California that Hangman has managed not to sleep with.” Phoenix coughs. “Except you of course, Natasha.”

Jake smirked and started walking over. He loved a new game.

“Well, not for long.” Javy sighed. Nat considered the scene more closely. She had a good feeling about this.

“How much are you willing to bet?”

***

“Sorry?”

When you finally remove your hands, your vision is still blurry. You can tell there’s some sort of guy in front of you, in what looks like Navy uniform. Fantastic. It was hard to tell as you looked around for your glasses, but you had dealt with enough of these kinds of guys at family parties. Just another meathead who would say the same old shit as they always did.

“Pardon my manners, sweetheart but you seem to be lost. The library is -” Before he can finish, you cut him off.

“Oh yes, actually, I think I am lost. I thought I was at the Hard Deck, but from the looks of you this is where Chippendales go to die? I hope you don’t mind but I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling, thanks.”

You hear him laugh a little.

“I’m pretty sure we’re the same age.”

You look around for your glasses.

“Sure, whatever the Viagra guys keep telling you, buddy.” You can see him fold his arms out of the corner of your eye, but you ignore him, continuing to search for your glasses. Silence ensues for what seems like forever.

“I think you’re looking for these, Grandma.” He hands you your glasses, and you snatch them out of his hands.

“Thanks.” You put them on. You see him properly now. He’s tanned, blond and incredibly handsome, like he’s walked straight out of a Hollister ad. He leans back, arms still folding and biceps definitely flexing and your heart skips a little. Sure, it had been a while since you had gotten some, but then he smirks and it’s clear that he’s the sort of handsome asshole who knows how good-looking he is. You roll your eyes and straighten up, folding your laptop.

“I’ve gotta go. It was a real displeasure meeting you,” You stand up, but before you can turn around, you hear a familiar voice.

“Ladybug! It’s you!”

“Bradley?” At this point Bradley Bradshaw swans into the bar, wearing one of his usual god awful Hawaiian shirts and plants a kiss on the top of your head.

“Ladybug?” Navy Ken raises an eyebrow. Bradley turns and rolls his eyes.

“Oh, I should have known you’d be sniffing around here already.” Bradley turns back to you. “You’ve had the pleasure of meeting Bagman, I see?”

“Bagman?” You mimic Bagman’s expression, complete with raised eyebrow.

“It’s Hangman. Although most people know me as Lieutenant Jake Seresin.” Jake winks at you. “At your service.” You scoff.

“If I’m at your service, I think I’ll rather die.”

At this point Bradley lets rip with a belly laugh, placing a hand on a bare stretch of your arm. You swear you see Hangman’s jaw tense a little.

“How do you two know each other again?”

“Me and Ladybug grew up together.”

“We’re old family friends. Bradley used to babysit me and my sister when we were little.”

“And look at you all grown up now, some bigshot fancy auth-” You shoot him a glare. Bradley is one of the few people in the world you’ve trusted with your secret, and you explicitly told him not to tell anyone. You just wanted a summer to be normal, with no pressure.

“Fancy what?” Jake looks you up and down.

“Academic. She’s a pHD student.” Bradley says immediately. Damn, that was quick, you think to yourself. You look up at him. Was Bradley always this good at lying?

“Yeah. English lit. Here working on my thesis.You wouldn’t be interested.” You make sure to put extra venom in the ‘you’.

Bagman’s furrowed brow offers a little fake smile, but before he can retort, Bradley leads you over to the other aviators. While you are a little tense going into the group of navy guys, most of them are immediately friendly. You struggle to remember everyone’s real names and call signs, but they don’t seem to mind. In particular, the girl, who is called Natasha, links arms and drags you off to a corner.

“Thank god you’re here. It will be nice to have another woman in the midst.”

“Honestly, it would be nice to just have someone who isn’t a pilot”. Her lanky WSO pipes up. “I heard you were doing a English lit degree.”

“Oh, er, yeah. It’s Bob right?” I mean it was sort of true. Except you had completed said degree about five years ago, but it certainly helped as Bob started enthusiastically talking about books. He was cute, and you were trying to reply, but you found it hard to focus when you could feel a certain pair of green eyes boring into you from the other side of the pool table. You deliberately refused to look in Hangman’s direction the rest of the night, until you couldn’t stand it any longer.

You stride over and gently put your hand on the guy who you think is called Fanboy.

“Do you mind if I take this?” You pick up the cue. He nods and you turn back to Hangman. “Right, are you going to play me or what?”

He tilts his head in disbelief. “Darlin’ are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Well, darlin’ If it means you stop staring at me like a wounded puppy all night, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

The rest of the squad have all dropped their conversations to turn and stare at the two of you.

“Suit yourself.” He sets up the balls to break, before leaning over to whisper in your ear. “Just remember if it gets too much, you can always beg me to stop, Ladybug.”

You try not to react. After all, it’s better he thinks like this. Having watched him play the last few games, he was clearly a very good player, but you knew you have to play the player, not the game. As you break, the game begins fairly normally. He manages to pot a few in quick succession, looking visibly relaxed with a gloating smile over his beer. You deliberately shuffle, and readjust until you can tell he’s stopped looking at you. This is the time you make your move, potting several balls to take a significant lead. Jake turns back suddenly, his jaw slackening a moment before regaining composure. You can hear Bradley stifle a snigger. Being dragged around from base to base with few kids your age to play with meant that Bradley had grown up watching you whoop the ass of everyone you played at pool since the age of eight.

“Something funny, Rooster?” Jake’s head swivels around.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

Jake starts playing more ferociously, almost clawing it back until you’re both got two balls left. You walk past.

“If it gets too much, you can always beg me to stop.” You look him up and down, before you whisper in his ear. “I like a man on his knees.” Jake’s cheek flushes and with that you pot the final two, claiming victory. You yawn. “I think I need to head home, but it was lovely to meet you all. Well almost all of you.” You blow a kiss to Jake, before waving goodbye and swiftly leaving after giving Bradley a hug. The rest of the group stand in stunned silence.

Jake raises one hand. “Don’t say anything.”

****

Jake lies on his bed. He couldn’t sleep. This was unusual. Well, not the not sleeping part. He always struggled to get asleep. At least, when he was sleeping alone. That’s why he made an effort not to. But tonight was different.

For one, it was rare for him to be alone in bed on a Friday night. But he had been so distracted, he hadn’t even managed to follow up with the pretty blonde who had asked for his number at the bar.

He couldn’t stop thinking about your stupid face.You and your stupid face and stupid glasses and stupid lips and the stupid way you said on your knees-

He got up and paced around the room.

This would simply not do.

Not only were you completely infuriating, but you beat the great Jake Seresin at pool. Bradley said you were here for the whole summer. So Jake had some time to get his own back. But how? He had noticed something odd about the way you looked at Bradley when he mentioned your pHD. Something was up, Jake could just tell, and he was going to get to the bottom of it. But not before he had a cold shower first.

part two

#jake seresin x y/n #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun hangman #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #hangman top gun #jake hangman seresin x reader

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irondadmadlads · 4 months

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The Shoebox Problem

A/n: For @call-me-coley . Thank you for talking through ideas with me @yes-i-am-happyaspie .

December was a busy month for Tony Stark. With the holidays on the horizon, the hero planned multiple galas and charity events. At least once a week balls were attended by Tony. Sometimes the man went by himself. Other times, Pepper would join him. Even Peter accompanied him once or twice.

Only those closest to him knew the real reason he made an extensive amount of plans during the winter month. As a distraction from his parents’ deaths.

But that’s neither here nor there. This story is about the shoebox problem. Underneath Tony’s tree were dozens of gifts. Every one about the size of a shoebox. And they were all addressed to the same person: Peter Parker.

Tony was overjoyed to learn Peter and May would be spending Christmas with Pepper and himself. The holiday was usually a lonely one for the billionaire. Sure, Pepper would spend the day with him. But while she received calls from her extended family wishing her “Merry Christmas,” Tony’s phone remained silent.

But this year would be different. With Peter and May Parker keeping the man company, there’s no way he could possibly feel lonely.

So when his phone rang with Peter’s contact, his heart skipped a beat. Did something come up? Did they have to cancel. Tony hesitantly answered it.

“Hello?”

“Merry Christmas Mr. Stark!” Peter exclaimed. Through the receiver, Tony could hear the boy coughing.

“Merry Christmas Peter,” Tony replied. “What time are you and May coming over?”

“Actually…” the boy trailed off and Tony’s anxieties began to return full force. Of course, spending Christmas with his mentee was too good to be true.

But the boy’s sentence surprised him. “I’m downstairs…”

“Downstairs?” Tony asked. It didn’t take him long to realize exactly what Peter was implying when he said “downstairs.” The teen had a tendency to end up in Medbay. Tony sighed, “What did you do this time?”

“Nothing,” Peter replied, before breaking into a coughing fit. “I have the flu.”

Tony frowned. He then looked back at the tree with dozens of boxes under it. Even if the boy was in Medbay, he could still make his Christmas a good one.

“I’ll be right there.”

Tony entered Avenger’s Medbay about half an hour later. He was carrying a few boxes in his hands. Peter gave the man a wary smile, despite being in the sterile hospital room.

“Hey Mr. Stark,” Peter greeted. “Thank you for the gifts… you really didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Tony replies. “There’s more than this.”

Peter’s eyes widen. And this is where the shoebox problem comes in.

About a month before the holiday, Tony asked Peter what he wanted for Christmas. Peter replied nothing big. “Think shoebox sized,” he said specifically. But that’s the only limitation the boy set. He didn’t give Tony a price limit. Nor a limit on the gifts themselves.

So that’s how Tony ended up carrying a pile of medium sized gifts into Peter’s hospital room.

“Mr. Stark…” Peter frowns. A shiver wracks his body and he pulls the sheet closer to himself. “How much did you spend on me…?”

“Nothing is bigger than a shoebox,” Tony deflected. And Peter could only sigh. The man had a point.

Seeing Peter’s defeat, Tony handed him a gift to open. It took him longer than usual due to the IV in his left arm, but he eventually got it open nonetheless.

Peter raised a brow, “I thought I said nothing big-“

“Nuh uh-uh,” Tony quickly could Peter off. “It’s shoebox sized.”

And unfortunately, the man was right. “Thank you for the Switch, Mr. Stark…”

Tony beamed, “Ready for the next one?”

Peter nodded and let Tony continue to hand him gifts. The boy realized he probably should’ve given Tony a gift limit. He definitely should’ve given Tony a price limit. Because he’d ended up with a new phone, new watch, tickets to Disneyland, tickets to Hamilton, video games for his Switch, and multiple gift cards.

“Okay buddy,” Tony handed a gift to Peter. “Last one.”

Peter opened it to see a teddy bear dressed in a little Iron Man suit. The boy beamed. “He’s my favorite!”

Tony chuckled. “Really? It was a gag gift,”

“It’s you,” Peter replied. “You’re my favorite,”

“Oh…” Tony glanced back at the sickly boy. He was ignoring his games and new phone to cuddle with a cheap teddybear that was dressed as his mentor.

The boy let out a yawn and placed his head on the pillow. The iron man teddy in his arms. “Thanks for the gifts,” Peter murmurs. “Merry Christmas, Dad.”

Tony’s heart skipped a beat. Peter called him “dad.” The man placed a kiss on the boy’s forehead as he drifted off to sleep. “Merry Christmas.”

#iron man #irondad #peter parker #tony stark #irondad and spiderson #spiderson #irondad prompts #spider man #irondad and spiderson prompts #spiderson prompts #sickfic prompts #sickfic #irondad fic #irondad & spiderson fic #christmas

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reqxxyt · 1 year

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snowed in d.r

[unedited] requests open !

pairings: daniel r. x f!reader

warnings: none (?)

masterlist

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Usually, when someone asks another to come over at 12 am directly, it’s expected to end up in a bed. When I got the text from Daniel to come over at 12:15 am, I didn’t think much of the situation thinking it was just out of boredom. That’s how I ended up at his apartment, snowed in. He didn’t think to tell me that the chances that this would happen were high seeing as there were ice on the roads and the streets were barely walkable.

“I can’t believe you dragged me here” My breath could be seen as I bundled myself up into what was meant to be a heated blanket he offered the first hour when the electricity was going but now was just a regular blanket after the power outage.

“I didn’t want to be alone” he argued in disbelief that I would leave him. I only rolled my eyes, still shivering while watching the downloaded movie that was playing on his laptop on the brink of dying. We stayed underneath the same blanket for heat support meanwhile my own heart was pumping abnormally fast each time his skin would brush against my own leaving harsh goosebumps.

An intimate scene came on screen, having the two main characters near kiss underneath the starlight night. Without realizing, I leaned closer being invested in the movie until the laptop suddenly shut off.

“What.” I said pushing my upper body back where Daniel had been leaning against the couch now having his front touch my back. I groaned now too invested in the movie wanting it back on. Daniel chuckled beside me and I lifted myself up, allowing part of the blanket to drop on the edge of the couch. “I should just leave, what am I still doing here?”

“You wouldn’t dare” his jaw fell and I only glared in response ready to say yes, not being serious. “Fine. Let me walk you outside then”

My heart stopped for a second, thinking if I should take back what I said not being serious about me leaving. But maybe he was tired of my complaints so I headed to the door with him tracing behind me.

I stepped foot outside the apartment building and immediately felt snow rush to my neck, crawling downwards. I shrieked at the feeling before turning around seeing Daniel with a mischievous smile on his face.

“Oh you’re so dead” I accepted the request and grabbed a fistful of snow before chucking it at him, plastering it straight to his face making me laugh while he coughed up some remains from his mouth. We kept throwing snow balls at each other laughing whenever one tripped just to fall right afterward.

Heavy laughter could be heard all the way from down the street if one tried to intervene but no one would walk out while snowing this badly. As I went to pick up another snowball ready for the best throw of my life, I turned my head not being able to spot Daniel.

“Daniel?” I called out, feeling my throat get itchy amd could already hear my voice sounding horsed. As I was about to turn to check behind me, I felt a giant body weight land on top of me only to spot the person I had been looking for laying on me. He laughed while I groaned trying to shove him away. “Get off”

“Never going to happen” he booped my nose and it finally settled the position we were laid in. My breath slowed down as he stared down at me with soft eyes, our visible breath connected with one another as my hands that were before trying to shove him, comfortably laid on my chest not sure where to lay them.

My heart started to pick up its pace the longer we lasted in the position, wishing he would be the first to move whether that was forward or backwards.

“Your nose is really red” was the only thing he whispered to me. Finally my consciousness came back as I shoved him to the side making a joke out of it in fear he didn’t mean anything by laying on me.

“You owe me food for practically killing me” I said getting myself off the ground. He laughed nervously before following me to the car garage.

“You really shouldn’t drive in this weather” his voice filled with only concern, I looked to my car before looking back at his pleading eyes and finally caved in.

“It should’ve been at my house” was all I could say as we went back inside feeling a small relief that it was a bit warmer compared to outside. I didn’t want to mention what happened only 5 minutes ago and I doubt he wanted to either so we stayed silent the entire way back to his apartment.

My phone had been on the brink of dying for the last hour and I refused to use it knowing I didn’t want a dead battery so there wasn;t much to do as the morning started to rise.

“Want to go to sleep?” I heard Daniel ask behind me as we entered immediately wrapping myself in the blanket. I nodded and followed him to the bedroom thanking myself for my earlier decision on wearing sweatpants and not jeans. Neither of us said anything as we lie down, on opposite sides of the bed having trouble going to sleep with the constant reminder of the cold.

The silence was loud. I tried going to sleep but the constant teeth grinding heard from the other side was starting to get irritating. “Daniel?”

“Yeah” was barely above a whisper, we turned to each other and without much light in the room I could still see cheeks turning a pink tone.

“You're shivering,” I said with a concerned tone pushing him the heavy weighted blanket that I had. “We can share”

“Thanks” he said huddling up closer to me but with enough safe distance to have both of us feel comfortable.

Hours passed by and the sun finally shined through the window, little warmth entering the bedroom as I started to wake up. I felt arms wrapped around my sides, confused I look to above to be showcased a VIP of Daniel's face.

Immediately, my face flushed and I wanted to get out. Our arms had been intertwined, mine wrapped around his own torso meanwhile our legs were wrapped around each other. I physically couldn’t see a way out of his grasp so I stayed there knowing how grumpy he’ll be if woken up.

Half an hour passed by and I stayed, not moving. Contemplating all my past life choices. My heart kept going fast every time I would glance at him and he would mumble something.

“It’s not nice to stare” was the first audible response I heard before I jumped at the sound quickly getting out of his grasp, thankful he woke up but also missing the warmth that his body brought. “You okay?” He asked seeing my stumbles out of the bed. I only nodded trying to get myself to calm down.

“Sorry if I woke you up” I quickly apologized as he slowly adjusted himself to sit up, leaning against the headboard.

“Don’t be. I enjoyed having a personal heater. "His smile made me want to jump out the window. Not my best idea considering we were on the third floor. I sat o. The edge of the bed having my hands laid flat on both sides with my back facing him. I heard sounds of him moving before I finally felt his hand graze my own sending goosebumps up my arm.

“What are you doing Daniel?” I asked, turning to see him still playing with my hand, tracing the outline before looking up at me with curious eyes. His gaze kept drifting downwards to my lips, debating whether to do it himself. “Daniel-”

Lips interrupted me mid sentence as I felt his lips harshly land on mine, bringing his hands on both sides of my face. With not much hesitation, my lips followed, crazing for more as I could feel my own stomach doing summer salt flips with the way my heart had no intention of slowing down. The kiss turned gentle as he had brought himself forward, now having to lean down to reach me.

“I don’t know why I didn’t do that sooner” his voice made my heart stop for a moment, loving the way it sounded from it being early in the morning and the intense make out we just had. I stayed silent, not sure how to approach this. “Y/n? Don’t tell me I just threw our four year friendship because I couldn’t handle my emotions”

“I’m glad you did do just that” With a small smile, his own brightened.

#daniel ricciardo #f1 #f1 x you #f1 reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x y/n #reader insert #formula 1 #daniel ricciardo x reader #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo imagine

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onlyhuis · 3 months

Text

stoner!svt

their favorite forms of weed + random stoner thoughts

member — svt ot13 x reader genre — headcanons, humor word count — 1.0k warnings — descriptions of marijuana and smoking. there isn't anything explicit or suggestive in this, but my blog is 18+ so minors dni. but whether you're a minor or not, please do not take advice about drugs from strangers on the internet,, i am so unqualified and this is just a reflection of my own experiences so don't take anything here as fact. always use responsibly! notes — huge thanks to @wooahaeproductions @highvern and @gyuwoncheol for brainstorming this with me !! as tumblr's resident stoner huihui i have many more thots about stoner!svt so feel free to stop by my inbox with your ideas to chat 👀

one reblog = one joint hand rolled for you by minghao himself

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seungcheol: dab pen

big bulky man requires a big bulky pen. it hits harder and feels way more intense so he doesn’t care that it’s harder to clean. he also has a dab rig and he thinks it makes him cool and different because he and vernon are the only ones who actually know how to use it

jeonghan: weird shaped bong

he has to be Extra at all times so he has a surprising variety of odd shapes. the tentacle one on his dresser is his most interesting one for sure, but the one shaped like an arcade game machine with actual flashing lights is his favorite. he’s the king of princess treatment so he definitely makes everyone else light his bongs for him; why would he do it himself when there’s a perfectly good coups sitting right there?

joshua: fruity disposable thc pens

he’s made it his life mission to try every flavor once. los angeles is like the vape capital of the world so there is definitely no shortage of flavors for him to try. someone please pack him a normal regular unflavored bowl before all his clothes permanently smell like strawberry ice. he thinks he’s subtle but you can literally smell him a mile away, his scent enters the room before he does

junhui: literally anything

willing to take whatever you’re willing to give: you put any kind of weed in front of him and he’s gonna try it. he really doesn’t have a preference for what form it’s in, as long as he gets to do it with you <3 i can also see him trying edibles in different forms than the usual kinds, like the ones that come in a can like soda or a bag of chips. it’s hard to tell when he’s high because he’s the same amount of giggly as he always is, it’s like a 50/50 chance of whether he’s stoned or just silly

soonyoung: preroll joints

he tries so hard it’s kind of sad but also so funny. he takes one hit and coughs like he's been chainsmoking cigarettes for the last 40 years, then gets tired after 10 minutes and lays facedown on the floor until he falls asleep. he’s not invited to smoke with you anymore because he spills the bong water every single time without fail. he becomes the most giggly and cuddly person you’ve ever seen in your life; imagine drunk hosh, times ten. he sets up his tiger plushies in a circle and passes the joint around like he’s a 4 year old girl having a tea party. he starts crying if one of them feels left out so he has to count and make sure they all get an equal number of hits

jihoon: normal shaped bong

locks himself in and hotboxes the studio. he mostly does it to get out of his own head and chill alone for a while, so don’t even think about interrupting him. he’ll emerge from a cloud of smoke a couple of hours later with 2 new albums, god of light music: the sequel, and a solo for hoshi. he doesn’t let the other members touch his stuff or even know where he hides it

wonwoo: normal shaped bong (dirty)

i hate to play into the dirty gamer boy stereotype that he’s always written as… but he 100% never cleans it. it’s always byob (bring your own bong) when he invites you over because he may be with fine smoking a crusty bowl, but not everyone feels that way sorry dude

minghao: hand-rolled joints

he doesn’t trust anyone to roll but himself. he has fancy expensive organic papers that he got from an exclusive farmer's market and he treats it like an art form but honestly it hits way better when he does it so you don’t question his technique. a hand rolled joint from minghao is like a gift from god

mingyu: homemade edibles

vernon gave him a homemade rice krispie once and he swore it wasn’t hitting so he ate another one... and then passed out on the couch. after vernon gave him the recipe, mr. professional chef here decided he likes to bake them himself but somehow always ends up measuring it wrong and makes them way too strong. on accident or on purpose? we may never know. most likely both. he gets so high he can’t even stand up straight, most giggly and cuddly person you’ve ever seen #2

seokmin: cbd gummies

he takes them to relax or to help him fall asleep rather than to get super high. but he still wanted to feel included with the members who smoke so he tried to buy a cart one time but he bought a melatonin pen on accident instead and they never let him live that down

seungkwan: normal shaped bong (clean)

he takes good care of his stuff and he’s serious about it! he had a bad experience with mold once and now he’s paranoid about remembering to change the bong water. he cleans it daily and keeps everything nice and organized, and he has a bedazzled grinder because if he’s gonna smoke then he’s gonna do it in style obviously

vernon: also literally anything

he’s honestly down for whatever. he prefers smoking over edibles but he doesn’t care if it’s a joint, a pen, a bong. also depends on his mood but the majority of the time it’s whatever is the closest within reach and requires the least amount of effort

chan: 4ft tall bong

how? why does he have that? where did he get it? huh? those are all questions he doesn’t have the answers to either. it’s more of a mascot than anything; it sits in the corner of his living room like a lamp and he doesn’t even use it. he uses a regular bong the majority of the time but only because he’s afraid of breaking the sacred Tall Bong. it’s a big hit at parties

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ctitan98official · 3 months

Text

Anonymous: sub Miranda priestly? 👀🙏❤

Fuck yeah! I’ve always had a head canon that she’s a sub. She’s just incredibly stressed and definitely needs to be taken care of. Reader, as usual, is gender neutral. Let’s get into it!

You had been Miranda’s assistant for much longer than most. You attribute your staying power to the fact that you just don’t really care about wearing expensive clothing and the latest styles. You want to be true to yourself. You don’t care if you fit in with everyone else’s expectations. Of course you dress professionally, but you don’t go overboard. You’ve done your research and understand the business, however, you’re not getting discouraged and drained by it. You’re confident in yourself and don’t feel the need to put up a facade.

Sure. Nigel and Emily tease you. But slowly, they’ve come to accept you for who you are. You three often go out for drinks after work.

Miranda, however, has apparently not warmed up to you as much. (That’s actually not true, though. She’s just really good at hiding her attraction to you.) She still won’t call you by your actual name and sends you on ridiculous errands. But, she has also started asking for you to bring the book by the house. She only sends people she trusts with the book. You’re honored.

Today, Miranda is in a much worse mood than usual.

You, Emily, and Nigel are chatting and making each other laugh when Miranda arrives. She’s half an hour later than she typically is and that’s seemingly contributing to her frustration.

She storms in and flings her jacket on your desk, unintentionally knocking Nigel’s scalding hot cup of coffee all over the front of your shirt and in your lap.

If Miranda noticed what she did, she didn’t acknowledge it. She goes right into her office and closes the door.

You hiss in agony as you bite back some cuss words.

Nigel gasps and immediately grabs some tissues to try and soak up the spill on your desk. “Are you okay, Y/N?” He asks, horrified.

“Yeah, Nigel. I’m fine… But, I can’t walk around like this all day.” You say and grimace at your stained clothes. “What the hell am I going to do? I don’t have the time to run home and change.” You ask.

Nigel looks at Miranda’s closed office door. He can tell she’s going to be a while. He turns back and grins at you. “Where do you think you are, Y/N?” He says… And immediately decides to make you his next project.

Nigel gives you tons of clothes to try on. You tell him he’s going overboard, but he just glares at you and you shut up.

By the time you’re done, Nigel has picked out the perfect sleek suit for you to wear. He helps you style your hair and tells you to go look at yourself in the mirror.

“Wow… That’s me?” You ask in shock. You look like a completely different person.

Nigel nods with a pleased smile. “It’s certainly an improvement.” He says jokingly. “Keep up that usual confidence and people are going to think you own Runway.” He winks.

“Thanks, Nigel. I really appreciate it.” You tell him.

“Don’t thank me, I was just tired of seeing you dress like an accountant.” He says, crinkling his nose.

You roll your eyes and get back to the office. As you walk in, Emily almost spits out the tea she was drinking before she starts coughing violently.

You raise a perplexed eyebrow. Emily’s cheeks are burning. “What is it, Em?” You ask.

Emily composes herself and clears her throat. “So, you actually look decent for once. Hell must have just frozen over.” She says, trying to seem disinterested in how great you look in your new outfit.

“Haha, very funny.” You say and go to sit back at your desk.

Before long, you hear Miranda’s voice from her office. “Emily.” She says. You huff. She said it in the tone she uses when she means you.

You quickly get up and walk in with a notepad and pen. “Yes, Miranda?” You ask and look down at the paper to get ready to jot some stuff down.

Miranda doesn’t speak immediately.

The silence makes you look up at her in confusion.

Miranda’s face can’t hide the shock she clearly feels. Damn. You look really hot. She can’t help but wonder how much better it would look off of you, though… With your hands exploring her body… Shit! Pull yourself together, Miranda! She thinks harshly to herself and tries to snap out of the trance you’ve put her in.

She knows what a heartthrob you are (She’s not dumb), but this… This is just not fair to suddenly spring on her.

You clear your throat after Miranda’s been staring at you for a while.

The editor slightly shakes her head before her brain gets the message to start working once again. “Get Marc on the phone and make a reservation at that place I like. And Patricia needs to be picked up from the groomers.” She says in her calm, but demanding voice. Her momentary internal freak out has finally passed.

You nod. “I’m on it.” You say quickly and leave.

Miranda clenches her jaw. This is Nigel’s doing, she’s sure of it.

——————————————————————————

The rest of the day goes by routinely. Impossible demands are met and you take great pleasure in your efficiency. Later on, Miranda leaves for the day and you finish up some work before going to take the book over.

You get to the townhouse and enter… However, there is an immediate and noticeable tension. Something is wrong. You hear a man’s furious voice and… Miranda’s. You can tell she’s trying to placate whoever she’s talking to, but the man’s voice only grows louder. You’ve never heard Miranda so… Shaken up. You look up at the stairway balcony and see two frightened little redheads peeking their faces out at you. They are silently pleading with you to do something.

Your vision goes red. You stomp up the stairway and make your way to the sound of Miranda’s voice. She sounds… Scared. You turn the corner and see a man, about Miranda’s age, yelling and berating her. You’re almost positive that this is her husband. You and Miranda’s eyes meet. She is so relieved to see you.

The man reaches out to grab Miranda’s arm roughly, but you immediately pull him back by his collar before he can lay his disgusting hand on her. You shove him hard up against the wall, seething. “Alright, you’re done, asshole! Let’s go!” You tell him and drag him harshly down the stairs with your arm tightly around his neck.

“Who the fuck are you?!” He shouts, grunting in pain from your iron grip.

“Your worst fucking nightmare if you continue to make bad choices.” You say darkly. “If I see you back here again we’re going to have a problem. Get it?” You ask and violently shove him down the townhouse’s front steps.

The man stumbles and trips over himself. He splutters as he gets up and looks at you stupidly.

“Beat it!” You yell at him.

The man sees the rage in your eyes and decides to get going. He’s not going to mess with you.

You watch as he leaves like a pathetic idiot. You make sure that he’s gone before closing the front door, locking it, and sighing. You turn around and see Miranda at the top of the stairs.

Her eyes are red from crying and she looks so… Vulnerable.

Cassidy and Caroline begin to sob as they hurry over to hug their mother.

“It’s okay, bobbseys. Mommy’s here.” She assures. Wow. Her voice is so soft and warm right now. You… Love the sound of it like this. It’s comforting.

You quietly make your way up the stairs. “Are you all okay?” You ask gently.

Miranda sees you approaching and begins bawling herself. She reaches out to pull you into a group hug with the girls. “Thank you, Y/N. Thank you.” She says.

Your eyes grow wide. You’ve never heard her say thank you before. You enjoy the feeling of them all in your arms. You could certainly get used to this.

You four finally pull away from each other, but Cassidy immediately clings to your side. She feels safe with you. Not to be outdone, Caroline quickly grabs onto your other side. You look to Miranda in astonishment and she can’t help but chuckle tearily as she looks at the shock on your face.

“I would say that you have won these two over.” She says with a smile and looks at her precious daughters.

You decide that you rather like the idea of the girls approving of you.

Miranda leads you all to the girls’ bedroom and Caroline and Cassidy immediately hop in the same bed and cuddle with each other. Miranda tucks them in and sits on the edge next to them. “Now, bobbseys. I know that was very scary.” She says. “But Y/N protected us.” She says and looks at you in gratitude.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Caroline says.

“Yeah, thanks, Y/N!” Cassidy eagerly adds.

You blush intensely. “My pleasure.” You mumble out, embarrassed.

“Stephen will not be a problem any longer.” Miranda says, looking back at the girls. First thing in the morning, she’s filing divorce papers against that son of a bitch. A restraining order too.

“So, Stephen’s not going to live here anymore?” Caroline asks.

Miranda cups her face. “No, he won’t, bobbsey.” Miranda promises.

Caroline nods, feeling relieved.

“Now, would you like a song to help you fall asleep?” Miranda entices.

The girls eagerly nod.

Miranda turns to you and pats the bed next to her. You quickly take a seat and can feel her lightly leaning against you. She’s so warm. She gently holds your hand and squeezes it.

Miranda sings a beautiful Yiddish lullaby. You are once again falling in love with her voice. You could listen to it constantly.

The girls are soothed by their mother’s singing. They quickly fall asleep.

Miranda ends the song and kisses each daughter on the head before standing up and guiding you out of the room. She turns off the lights and closes the door.

Miranda grabs your hand and leads you to her bedroom. “Y/N, I… I can’t thank you enough.” Miranda says, breaking down once again.

You wrap her in a hug. “Hey, it’s all going to be okay.” You tell her and rub her back.

Miranda lets herself cry for a minute and you calmly whisper soft reassurances in her ear. You will never let anything harm her or the girls again. Something about your dynamic with them has completely changed. You will protect them with your life from here on out.

After Miranda has allowed herself some time to cry, she suddenly pulls back and looks at you closely.

You look back at her. “Miranda?” You ask.

“I… Feel safe… With you, Y/N.” Miranda reveals. She’s just pinpointed why she loves being around you. Every time at work when Miranda has forgotten something or made a tiny mistake, you swoop in and fix it… And now… This. You’re like her own personal superhero.

Miranda’s statement makes your heart rate pick up. You love that you make her feel secure.

“I think that… I haven’t felt truly safe and protected like this since I lost my father.” Miranda realizes and looks you in the eye. “I… Want you here with me, Y/N. Please, will you stay tonight?” She pleads.

You had no intentions of leaving anyway. You wanted to make sure Stephen was really gone. You smile. “Absolutely. I’ll go sleep on the couch.” You tell her. “Good night, Mi-”

“No!” Miranda all but shrieks.

Your posture becomes rigid. Miranda’s never raised her voice before. It’s quite startling. You turn to look at her but Miranda suddenly cups your face.

“Please… Stay in here with me.” She begs.

You can’t say no to her. You nod. “Okay.” You agree.

Then… Something happens that totally changes you for good. Miranda leans forward and places a gentle kiss to your lips. Your brain short-circuits for a second before you kiss her back. Her lips are so velvety. You need more.

Miranda moans softly and it’s the most tantalizing thing you’ve ever heard. She pulls away and looks critically at you. “Nigel knew what he was doing when he dressed you.” She says with a small smirk. “What an evil way to torture me all day.” She whispers.

You laugh and wink. “You can blame yourself for that. You spilled coffee all over me.” You tell her.

Miranda is mortified. She doesn’t remember that. “I… What?” She asks, confused.

“Forget it. I’ll tell you later.” You grin and start to trail kisses down to the base of her throat.

Miranda whines as she grips your hair, wanting you to keep going. You carefully pick her up and lie her on the bed before positioning yourself on top of her. “Let me take your shirt off, doll baby.” You tell her and begin unbuttoning her fancy blouse.

Miranda all but melts as she sees the feral look in your eyes. This is what she needs. To be taken care of and… Completely worshipped.

Note: Haha, so no smut, but the unexpected dom/sub dynamics were really fun to work with on a more emotional level. Depending on if y'all like this one, I may write some smut for it. Hope you enjoyed this!

Masterlist

#miranda priestly #the devil wears prada #dwp #miranda priestly x reader #devil wears prada #emily charlton #nigel kipling #caroline priestly #cassidy priestly #meryl streep #emily blunt #stanley tucci

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dreamerwithoutadirection · 11 months

Text

Anti-Hero

How naïve was she to think that she could leave him?

Warnings: Yandere, Possessive, Non-consensual touching/sex

P.S: My darkest work yet. Do let me know how you all find it! As usual, not proof-read :)

It was a tiring day. The investigations around the growing rebellion were not going as planned. And whoever this man was..let's just say he was smart. Deep in thought, Jung Hoseok, the chief of police administration did not realise when he reached the one place he promised himself he wouldn't visit again.

The courtesan house.

Jung Hoseok knew he shouldn’t be visiting the courtesan house as often as he did. Not when he was married. Not when his wife was waiting for him at home. Especially not when she was heavily pregnant with his child. But Hoseok couldn’t help himself. He craved her arms around him. He craved her scent at night. He craved her sweet pussy around him, engulfing him..her lips moaning his name. It drove him to the high never experienced before. And to his dismay and relief, he had been able to keep his promise for four long torturous months this time.

I need to stop. This will be the last time, Hoseok promised himself. No more. But what to do when mind and heart are in stark conflict. Hoseok sighed as he entered for one last time. Just tonight, I need her. He knew what he was doing was not respectable, yet somehow all rational reasons leave him when it came to her.

“Lord Hoseok! Welcome. Who would you like to visit today?” smiled the head kisaeng, Ji-Hye. She could only hope that he does not ask for Nabi. It had been a month since she left and was a personal favourite of his. Lord Jung was known for his fury and ire and Ji-Hye did not want that. It would be awful for business. No one came to kisaeng place for drama.

“Is she in?” Hoseok enquired eagerly. He could no longer wait to sink in her and claim for him like always.

“I don’t know how to say this, My Lord…however, Nabi has left the Kisaeng house a month back.”

As if all the light remaining in his eyes was drained, Hoseok set his heart shaped mouth in a thin line and slowly asked, “Where?”

Ji-Hye wasn’t sure where Nabi had left for. It wasn’t her business to interfere when Nabi had paid back all the amount she owed. Suddenly, Ji-Hye felt his fingers wrapped around her neck in a tight grip. “Lor-” Ji-Hye tried to speak but the grip only tightened. She could feel herself getting dizzy.

“I asked WHERE did she go to?! How difficult is that to answer for your slow brain to process?” Hoseok screamed.

Ji-Hye tried to set herself free. “I..do.”.cough “n’t know..she never told me where she was leaving for. I can only tell you where she came from when she first joined us” Ji-Hye managed to speak when Hoseok’s fingers loosened.

“Where?” Hoseok demanded dangerously.

“From the North..”

Hoseok turned around to leave without a word..trying to process…Nabi had left him. How could she? How dare she? Who was she to even think of leaving Him?! Did she really think she could run far from him? How naive. I am coming for my love, you better be ready for my wrath.

*-------*--------*

Yoon-Suh hadn’t felt this happy in a long time as she tied her long hair in a bun while cleaning the dishes in a posh restaurant in the outskirts of her home town. It had been more than a month since she had left that wretched place in search for a life away from the pretentious Lords and their dirty hands. Except for one maybe..Lord Hoseok. Her sunshine in the dark days. Lord Hoseok, however, was married and she was a lowly Kisaeng.

Yoon-suh knew that nothing could take place between them beyond the passion between sheets. She had long realised that when Lord Hoseok got married and ended things with her. That day..she cried her heart out and drank like nothing mattered in the world.

“You really had high hopes, huh? You are but a Kisaeng what made you think you are special to a Lord of his rank?” She had heard Ji-Hye.

However, when he returned back a month later after his marriage seeking for her…she felt beyond special and maybe a spark of hope. How stupid of her? Their affair continued for an year long before Lord Hoseok decided to put an end to it. Nabi considered it another guilt driven break of his before he would come back seeking for her. So, when he did not return for another three months..Nabi knew..it was time to move on. Especially when she heard the news of his wife’s pregnancy while serving Lord Choi. Perhaps the hardest night of her life as she laid beside Lord Choi..feeling him thrust inside her.

Yoon-Suh packed all her belongings the next day and was gone within a week.

“You are really mysterious..you know. The talk of the town,” said Ji-Hyun conspiratorially, wiggling his eyebrows.

Yoon-Suh looked back and giggled. “Sure, let’s go by that.”

Ji-Hyun was smitten by Yoon-Suh since the day he saw her. But all his attempts to woo her went down the drain. As he handed her the bucket of water, he eagerly replied, “No, really. Everyone’s curious about you. You came from nowhere and have settled so well among us that I can no longer remember the time you were not here!”

“You really need to stop with that flirting of yours, you know..” Yoon-Suh smiled.

“Well..” Ji-Hyun grinned..“why not! I am sure I will be the best husband you’ll find in this miserable town.”

Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad of an idea? Yoon-Suh couldn’t help but wonder. She deserved to settle down too and start a family of her own. No one knew of her past here. She was safe. It was time to move on from Lord Jung.

“Let’s get married” Yoon-Suh spoke shyly to Ji-Hyun.

“Woah! Wait a minute! You are really agreeing!” Ji-Hyun’s happiness knew no bounds. She agreed! He spun Yoon-Suh around before hugging her. “Oh God, you have made me the happiest man today. Let’s get married next week, jagi.”

Yoon-Suh knew it was the right decision but she couldn’t help but feel something’s coming. She frowned before smiling at Ji-Hyun, “Yes. That sounds nice.”

*-------*--------*

While Nabi was contented on one hand, Hoseok on the other was a wreck. Perhaps the wreckage in his room was the best depiction of his pain and sorrow. All he could think of was Nabi. His eyes had visible bags under him as if sleep was a foreign concept to him.

All seven friends were gathered in Yoongi’s residence to discuss the case of growing rebellion. But +with Hoseok sighing every few minutes and glaring at everything in his vision..carrying a fruitful discussion was getting harder by the minute.

“Enough is enough! Hoseok get back in your sense this instant before I smack you!” Seokjin tensely spoke “If you are in so much despair on a Kiseang leaving..go find her.”

“Don’t” Hoseok hissed..“don’t you dare insult her. Don’t forget your own wife was a lowly maid before you became obsessed with her.” Rage visible on his face.

Before, Seokjin could retaliate..Jimin cut between the conversation, “Hyung..why don’t you..send troops to search for her. I can help you with that..my spies are all around..I will just need a sketch and she’ll be in your hands before the end of this month.”

Hoseok’s lips pursed in deep thought. “He’s right you know” Taehyung spoke cautiously for the first time..“It wouldn’t take a long time to find her..with our resources and means. So, what’s got you so tensed?”

“That she left me. How dare she even think of leaving me? God, I want to punish her bad for this stunt of hers.” She would face his wrath once he found her. Hoseok hadn’t realised the extent of his love for her. It felt like someone was turning a sharp knife in his heart..bleeding him out again and again and again.

Yoongi flopped down on the mat and sighed. What a gross waste of time. “What are you even waiting for? It’s been more than a week since you found out..go search for her already.”

*-------*--------*

It was late in night when Yoon-Suh felt someone beside her. Touching her face..when suddenly the person sharply turned her head on the side. Yoon-Suh swallowed audibly seeing one face she never thought she’ll encounter again.

“Lord Jung” Yoon-suh spoke lowly seeing the glare and clenched jaw of Hoseok. She felt her heart beating fast and hard but she laid perfectly still..scared to even move. Jung Hoseok did not like disobedience.

“Nabi..no..Yoon-Suh, what made you think you could leave me like that..jagi.” Hoseok caught her jaw in a tight grip, his eyes darkening..daring her to go against him. While his other hand cupped her nether..finding his way inside..sliding his fingers in and out..in and out.

“Ah..” Yoon-Suh moaned..“I..I..Lord Jun-I mean Hoseok what are you doing..” she managed to speak while feeling the high of her coming orgasm

“Reminding you who you belong to” Hoseok spoke hotly against her ears “You have been for so long Nabi..but I guess I failed to show it to you..the depths I can go for you.”

“So, let’s do this again, who do you belong to..sweetie?”

Yoon-Suh did not like the way her sunshine was speaking. The Hoseok, she knew was sweet and sunshine but this Hoseok was dark..she felt frightened..seeing the beast in front of her, unable to think clearly..when she felt him on the top of her..undressing her in a fervent manner.

“Lord Hoseok..don’t do this” Yoon-Suh begged while tears began escaping her eyes..“I am getting married tomorrow..and you are married, please return back to your wife..My Lord.”

Married. Hoseok felt enraged. His Nabi not only escaped him but thinks she has the right to marry someone else. Hoseok’s actions if possible became more fervent as he began thrusting inside her..How he missed this feeling.

“You are mine..Yoon-Suh..you were from the beginning. I might have realized that late, but I am here now..soon you will carry my babies for the world to see who you belong to” Hoseok spoke slowly for her to process his each word “Understood baby?” Before Yoon-Suh could reply she felt his lips crashed onto her..biting her as if punishing her for making him wait.

And just like that the hero of her story became the anti-hero.

#yandere bts #bts yandere #yandere hoseok #dark bts

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matan4il · 2 months

Note

I admit I’m kinda suspicious hearing that the IDF investigated itself and found no wrongdoing

Maybe I’m just jaded given how often that happens with us military and cops

I usually try to answer by the order I get the asks, but I am guessing you are referring to this IDF investigation, and I think that is important enough to address it right away, as a completion for that daily update.

Anon, IDK if I'll surprise you, but I actually get where you're coming from. It does sound weird for anyone to investigate themselves. I should know, I def am very suspicious of the UN investigating themselves when it comes to UNRWA.

That said, there are a few reasons why I have more faith in an IDF investigation in this specific context.

For one thing, there's a difference between when an organization investigates a specific incident, versus when it is looking at something much more systematic. It's easier for a system to put together a team within it, with independent authority to investigate another part, focus on "a few rotten apples," than if it has to admit that the whole system is rotten, and cut off its own heads, or even worse, admit that the system has no right to exist (*cough* UNRWA).

In that respect, when the IDF has to be checked on how it failed to prevent the Hamas massacre on Oct 7, it is NOT going to investigate itself. It is already conducting an investigative procedure to look into where the issues were, in order to learn from them, but this is done in addition, NOT instead of, an external investigation, with the actual power to recommend for people to pay personal prices for what happened. Which is as it should be. IDK that I would trust it any other way, as much as I do think that quite a few of the heads of the army and security forces are decent people, who have already taken responsibility for the failure to protect Israeli citizens, and will probably resign at the end of the war, regardless of what the investigation will say about them.

In contrast, UNRWA has stopped having a right to exist decades ago. No other UN agency has a similar decades long mandate. A similar UN agency meant to help South Korea following the 1945 partition of Korea into two (UNKRA) operated from 1950 to 1958, and then it was disbanded. As it should be. UNKRA certainly didn't continue operating in North Korea for decades, with an overwhelming majority of its staff being North Koreans, and intertwining it to an inseparable degree with the North Korean dictatorial regime, which is who this agency would have had to cooperate with, in order to continue working in NK. That's the equivalent of what UNRWA has become, so it has to go. It is complicit in employing terrorists, as well as indoctrinating Palestinians to be antisemitic and terrorists. And the UN has KNOWN and HAS ALLOWED THIS TO GO ON FOR YEARS. And that means that, beyond how antisemitic the UN inherently is (especially so long as it gives antisemitic and dictatorial regimes an equal vote), this organization also HAS to delegitimize Israel, because that's the country exposing the UN for its complicity. THIS goes all the way to the top. That's why the UN investigating itself is beyond questionable to me.

Back to the IDF. It's also in its own interest to justly investigate such specific incidents. Soldiers who defied orders are an issue for any army, especially if they show other soldiers they can do the same. Soldiers who defied orders and intentionally killed uninvolved civilians, causing their army and their state real damage (and in this, Israel is inspected in a way no other army and country are), are a danger for everyone. They can get every IDF soldier arrested for a sin only a few people had committed, which is why it is in the interest of almost everyone in the system, to make sure there is a clear distinction between such people, and the rest of the soldiers, who do follow the ethical code of the IDF. In fact, Israel's own legal system stopped an attempt to undermine the possibility of the IDF prosecuting its soldiers.

Lastly, there's past experience. If the record had shown that the IDF always absolves its soldiers, never prosecuting them for breaking orders, then I would be way more suspicious of its investigations. I think the most telling recent example is actually the accidental killing of the three Israeli hostages in Gaza by the IDF. There was no one at the scene other than the soldiers. They were in a war zone, no journalists around, in the middle of the battle chaos, if they had wanted to bury this and claim that Hamas terrorists were the ones who killed the hostages, or that the hostages were killed during an exchange of fire with Hamas terrorists, we'd probably never know the truth. But those soldiers reported what happened. And the IDF passed the truth along to the families, as hard and painful as that must have been, and to the public, whose faith in the army has already been shaken by the failure to prevent Oct 7. That tells me something about the army and the people leading it.

Does that guarantee that everything will always be transparent? No. But I am more inclined to trust an army willing to freely admit its own fuck ups, than the anti-Israel crowd, who will forever call anything the IDF does "a massacre," whether it qualifies or not, and who can't even accept it when foreign countries and independent investigators look into anti-Israel accusations and find Israel in the right, such as in the case of the al-Ahli hospital, where it was determined by multiple external investigations that the one conducted by the IDF was right, and the rocket that landed there was fired by Palestinian terrorists from Gaza, accidentally fell in the parking lot, and didn't kill anywhere near the 500 fatalities figure that Hamas is still claiming to this day.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #anon ask #israel under fire #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #ask #unrwa #un

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poisonousquinzel · 1 year

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Batman: Urban Legends (2021 - ) #1

Hi, am thinking about Harley and Ivy gardening and setting up Ivy's greenhouse together because they should be allowed to embrace each other's passions and build each other up and help with the other's plans 💖💖 instead of it being an unnecessary sexist and ooc hurdle

(cough @ P*ul D*ni & Br*ce T*mm cough hahahahhahahhahah)

Cause really, Harley would love doing anything with Ivy and would 1000% count gardening with her as dates. It's daily dates! 💞🥺

She loves everything about her enchanting, plant obsessed lady. Ivy sees cool moss and is like !! Moss!! ❤️❤️ And Harley matches her enthusiasm not cause she loves moss but because she loves Ivy. And Ivy being happy and excited about something inherently is gonna make Harley happy because she loves it when her partners are thriving.

If she can help in that, she jumps at the chance. She may mess up and get distracted, but she loves and listens and notes what little things makes them tick because they're special to her.

Harley Quinn: Make 'em Laugh (2020-) #2 "Housewarming"

Like this!!! More of this!! She knew that the Bonsai tree was something Ivy would want to save if she went there and she knew it was something that would be in better hands in the care of Ivy anyway. And then in the end, even though she wasn't able to obtain the tree because of the guard robot, her snake swallowed a couple of rare seeds and hacked them up on Ivy's floor. A bit gross, sure, but Ivy's delighted!

"These--These are gargantua seeds! Some of the rarest in the world! Stolen from their rightful homes centuries ago, and all but extinct! Genuine man-eating trees! This is better than anything I could have dreamed of! Thank you!"

Lots of exclamation points when you write out the dialogue but skdjsksks like they're just so 💖💞💖💞💖 special to me

Omg and the "My Harls" 💞💞💞

And the loveliest "Garden" trope of them all for Harlivy, the Paradise/Eden/Utopia 💖🤌 my Fucking Beloved,,,, I've posted the bits here 💖 but like these ones ?!?

Batman (2016) #97

"She built this paradise for me in a cave system under the park, after a rough time with Mr. J... I wasn't ready to let go of him then, but he'd poisoned me....

This was kinda sorta my rehab clinic. That's why I wanted to bring you here."

"Ivy's usual rules are No Clothes In Eden, but I don't think you and I have that kind of relationship.

And if any of these plants have her residual personality, they'd probably try harder to eat you.

This is where I used to go with her to get my brain in order. To a point, anyways..."

Like the months they probably spent together throughout the years in Eden, their own secret safe haven, a place that Ivy would take her when she needed to get away from it all. And the way she says "if any of these plants have her residual personality, they'd probably try harder to eat you."

the plants probably reacted to Ivy's emotions whenever they were there before, there together. Just the two of them, nude, vulnerable and completely and utterly alone besides the other, far far beneath the world above.

Just the idea of casual vines, grass and ferns brushing lovingly against Harley's legs and arms as they walk together, a perfectly bloomed flower and it's stem wrapping around her bicep.

The two of them spending each night together in the bud of a rose Ivy grew, entrained and intertwined for warmth and comfort. The two of them gently washing each other's backs in the river, skinny-dipping in the dark and getting lost in the feeling of each other's skin against their own.

Ivy creating this perfect escape for them where they didn't have to worry about anything, money, food, cruel and vindictive ex's.

"Trying to cut my throat open was one thing, but then you come to burn down the only place I still like in this stupid city?" Batman (2016) #98 And if Harley ever did get too cold, if they happened to venture down in the colder months, the No Clothes Rules could always be fudged to mean no Human World clothes. She could craft her clothes just like she makes her own outfits.

But, really, they both enjoy the freedom and intimacy that comes from being fully exposed and naked around each other, the inherent vulnerability and trust.

And Harley always feels okay and loved in her presence, never feels like she needs to cover up her body, because Ivy has and would never make jokes about her body (she's not him.)

And Ivy's affection and sometimes shy nature when it comes to that direct deceleration is always evened out by the connected plants easy nature to show exactly how she's feeling. Like,, If she feels nervous about holding Harley's hand, well she better get on it because those pretty ferns that look purple and blue in the right light will not stop wrapping around her and tickling Harley's palms.

Even in the night, they'll wake up curled together, most of the time in the spooning position, but Harley always has a little visitor or two attempting to warm her alongside Ivy. It makes Ivy flush every time as she wills them away, but Harley loves it and she treasures the fact that Ivy trusts her so much, and loves her so deeply that her connection to the plant life around them is tuned in to the sheer overwhelming emotion she feels towards and about Harley every time she lays eyes on her silly little clown.

Harley wouldn't mention it, but she'd know. She is trained to notice those things 💞

Like, y'all, I am totally a-okay sobs hysterically

#harley quinn #harleen quinzel #poison ivy #pamela isley #harlivy #dc comics #they make me FERAL #EMOTIONAL #DISTRAUGHT AT THE PURE AND UNHINGED ROMANCE OF IT ALL #the way that comic harlivy could easily be one of the best love stories ever told if someone would just get the rights #and write out their story from beginning to end so people wouldn't get so damned confused about it cause really #its fucking 💞💕💖💕💖💕💕💖💕💖💕💖💕💖💕💖💕💕💖💕💖💕💞💕💖💕💖 perfection #the growth and overcoming trauma?!? the reluctant friends to Best Friends for Years to Lovers #the ups and downs but in the end always coming back and growing stronger and healthier because of their bond #and their want and desire to be with one another #👌💖👌👌💖👌💖👌👌💖👌💖👌👌💖👌💖#that's some good shit right there #mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah #like its actually such a great love story about a couple of traumatized sapphic women overcoming and growing and healing and i just #i love them so much and i feel like they get reduced so easily to just such a simple and tbf boring arc #that just doesn't capture the lengths and bounds that they've gone through together.#and i think a lot of people that're only getting into them / finding out about them through the Animated HQ show #are really only getting the like last 20% of their pre established arc and then get into the comics and are confused or put off #because they're more than just a quick friends to lovers arc.#the friends arc lasted so long for them and it had so much development and growth in it #like in BTAS alone it was at least 7 years for Harley. and that's just them being friends.#there's a lot of trauma on both sides and the healing process isn't just a nice simple one #that gets patched up because Harley's ex is now running for Mayor. (no i haven't fucking forgiven them 🔪🔪🔪🔪)#tw abuse mention #♢ meta & analysis ♢

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zgvlt · 2 years

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stop and stare riddle rosehearts x reader

summary: Everyone thinks Riddle likes you, and that you like him back, but the truth isn't always so pretty. Slowly but surely, he works through his complicated feelings for you.

tags: gender neutral reader, sfw, light angst, jealousy (and not the cute kind), pre-relationship, rivals to friends to maybe more than friends, academic rivalry, happy/hopeful ending, 8.0k+ words, not beta read

author's note (see end notes for more): This was supposed to be funny, light-hearted, & fluffy, but I wrote and wrote and then the tone changed unexpectedly, but things end on a good note! Happy Birthday Riddle!

you can also read this on AO3

Sometimes, Riddle couldn’t help himself from staring. He knew it was rude to stare so often, but during those few moments—when you would pass him by in the hallways, when you took the same classes as him, when you sat near him during lunch—without fail, his eyes seemed to find themselves drawn to your figure.

Arguably, it was always worse during meal times, when there were no professors or papers to distract himself with.

His lips twitched, inching downwards as he felt his grip on his fork tighten. He was being too reactive again. Maybe he wasn’t actually getting better at controlling his temper.

“Riddle-kun~? You’re meant to eat the cake, not butcher it!” Cater said, and though he tried to keep the atmosphere pleasant with a short bout of laughter and a smile, the redhead knew he was concerned over something , a something Riddle knew he would try to figure out.

Much to Riddle’s pleasure, Cater has always been good at reading the mood, and he’s grateful the third-year was willing to steer the conversation himself instead of waiting for the other to explain.

“You’ve been staring mindlessly for a few minutes now. You’re always helping us as our dorm leader, so Cay-kun will definitely listen if something’s wrong, you know!”

He nodded in response, genuine about his answer. Sure, he preferred to keep his more private problems to himself for as long as he could, confiding in Trey, his childhood friend, if need be, but Cater was someone he could definitely trust with a secret or two, although he had yet to really do so.

At the very least, he was sure that he could let slip some of his more… current concerns and personal feelings without fear of being mocked. Someone not too harsh or disrespectful when it comes to giving advice, but someone not too afraid of him, who would just listen to whatever he says with a nod of approval to mask disapproval.

“And you’ll definitely tell me if you, you know, start liking someone, right?”

Riddle sputtered, quickly using his free hand to cover up the incoming coughs. To everyone else, it might have looked like he had choked on his food, and his dining companion was quick to aid to that conclusion with a glass of water being pushed towards him, but he had not even taken a bite since having begun the topic with Cater. It would have been bad manners to talk with food in his mouth—a disrespect to his conversation partner, and to the chefs who made the food he was eating.

Still, it might have been less embarrassing to have been perceived as having momentarily lost his usual composure as opposed to having someone eavesdrop the topic at hand.

“Haah, where is this coming from?” Riddle slid the glass back to Cater, opting to take a sip of his tea instead. It was a little regretful, his having chosen to take it hot, for a colder drink would certainly soothe him and lower his rising ire. “I see that you’re implying something, so I’ll be setting it straight right now that I haven’t even thought of romance for myself, not since that incident with the bride.”

“Man, it’s really just like you to shut the idea down so quickly… So, are you saying you wouldn’t tell me?”

“How am I supposed to answer something so hypothetical?”

That was to say, he wouldn’t provide an answer regarding a situation yet to occur, but he could envision how he would act. He’d probably keep it to himself for a week or so, just in case he needed to verify if it was actually a crush and not just him feeling affectionate in a heightened platonic sense, and then he’d tell… Trey would act too obvious if he knew, so he would hesitate to tell his friend, so Cater…

Actually, perhaps he would tell no one, for he had a feeling they would unwittingly be the cause of unnecessary dramatics, to put it lightly.

“But if I had to tell anyone, I suppose I would tell you,” Riddle conceded, trusting that the third-year at least had the decency to not post about it all over MagiCam.

The orange-haired boy sighed, almost in relief, as he nodded his head, a few strands of his hair swinging with the motion. “Right! Like, I told everyone if you really did, you’d trust me enough to tell me, but they keep asking anyway! Everyone’s been saying that you…”

“That I…?”

Cater paused, likely realizing a few things, among which were to lower his speaking volume, as well as to word his words very carefully.

“I guess I probably should tell you what they’ve been saying, huh?”

Though Riddle’s not concerned about being the most popular student in school or anything, he couldn’t deny at least being proud of his standing. For Cater to mention it, it must be something different from the usual fear he caused due to the rules he upheld. Even then, at least that fear came with respect.

In an unknown instance like this, was it not natural to care about his reputation being tarnished?

“It’s not bad or anything, is it?”

“Definitely not!” Cater waved his hands around, trying to reassure him that it really wasn’t, “I guess it’s more… neutral territory?”

“Then I want to hear it.” Regardless if it was good or bad, he would have said yes to hearing it, but he was relieved it was not a case of terrible rumors being spread about him. It would be quite troublesome having to find and deal with the perpetrators, after all.

His upperclassman sucked in a breath, looking at the direction he was staring at a while ago, another sigh of relief escaping him as he found the seat empty, the one previously sitting there having long left the table.

“People, as in, a lot of people seem to think that you like…” Riddle could have guessed who was being referred to even with an omission, but he could not help himself from stabbing his fork just a little more through the cake slice at the mention of your name. “As in, like-like.”

“Of course like-like, that’s what a crush is, is it not?” Riddle could roll his eyes in discontent, but he was too preoccupied with the feeling of embarrassment that overcame him. Still, he could not pretend to be surprised at the outcome—he should have been more subtle, or perhaps just not looked at you in the first place.

Though… Did he actually look at you that much? No one else had ever pointed it out to his face before, so he thought he was being subtle enough.

“Hmm… You look bothered, but not surprised,” Cater pointed out, not bothering to mask the hint of surprise lacing his voice. “Eh? Could it be that there’s some truth to the rumors? I mean, in terms of aesthetics, I can see how you would like—”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Cater. I am not a person who focuses on appearances, but like I’ve already mentioned, I don’t like anyone that way,” and if you ask him, he’s never actually thought about you in such ways—both measuring your attractiveness, as well as seeing you as a romantic prospect. He currently has no time for either or.

“So why do you stare so hard? I don’t know if you know this, but it’s kind of bad . As in, pretty sure even the P.O.I. knows type of obvious.”

With pursed lips, he debated over how to phrase his answer, about how honest he would be over the situation, before simply letting go of whatever hesitations he had left.

“It’s because I’m jealous.”

There was a new rumor brewing amongst the halls of Night Raven College.

New, which meant a whole week had gone by since the rumor first started, or at least so Cater said, and one of two subjects of the rumor had only just found out about it.

It seemed that people were particularly careful about not letting him hear, or perhaps he was simply too preoccupied with other things to really listen in on whispers, because once he learned about it, he could not help but tune in to mentions of either his name or yours.

It turns out that Cater was actually being considerate of him too, because like wasn’t the word commonly uttered—no, people seemed to think that he was in love with you.

Riddle really wasn’t surprised by the outcome of his constant staring, schools were, ironically, a breeding ground for misinformation, though it’s just a little unfortunate that the most likely conclusion for his actions ended up being incorrect, that the truth wasn’t very cute and sweet but was rather… for a lack of a better term, unkind.

Riddle Rosehearts was nothing but the best, not a boast but a fact. Even in subjects he did not particularly excel in, he put in all his effort so that nobody could discount the hard work he had put in. He was intelligent, yes, but years upon years of studying day and night had shaped him that way. It wasn’t just natural and it perplexed him at times, the way people thought he could just break free from his routine, to put his books away and somehow retain his position as number one.

Of course he could not stop.

He hasn’t stopped thinking about it, even though he doesn’t remember much of the details in the first place. The truth had been too muddled by his own perceptions, or perhaps it was a case of him wanting to forget it all. But he could not, and should not forget—he had to remember how it felt to be second, to fuel himself for the next time, because he actually had more stakes in showing the extent of his brilliance.

That day… either he or you approached the other first, and you shook hands and congratulated each other on your respective placements. It was congenial, it was polite, it was the picture-perfect representation of two of NRC’s outstanding students. You smiled, and although it was easy to see it was not even the slightest bit condescending, it still put a bitter taste in his mouth. He wondered if he smiled back.

Among all other things, he remembered most what he had been thinking of. It was not a sudden hatred for you, for he was not so unreasonable, nor had he fallen in love due to your intelligence or capabilities. No, at that moment he remembered his mother, his childhood, and he had been filled with the realization that perhaps, even after everything, he was still not good enough.

Was it fair to you that whenever he looked at you, that moment was all he could really think about? No, and he wanted to stop, and maybe even apologize despite you not knowing anything about what he was feeling, but it was more difficult than he initially thought.

In any other case, he would have made an attempt to disprove the rumors, or at the very least dissuade people from making assumptions, creating rumors about him. After all, it was incredibly disrespectful to the both of you— especially you, considering you were just minding your own business. However, shame over his emotions held him back from doing so.

In the long run, he knew that he just had to study some more, perhaps more efficiently, to catch up to you and earn back his spot as the best student of his year, as he once was before you took that spot. As for the short term, if he couldn’t settle his jealousy right away, then there was always one simple solution—all he had to do was stop looking at you.

Eventually, people would think that he lost interest in you, maybe even realize that they were simply mistaken, and the rumors would die. Everything would return back to normal.

He just hoped that, somehow, you didn’t hear of the rumors, or at the very least refused to believe them. Somehow, the idea of you knowing embarrassed him most of all.

Another week passed before a new rumor erupted in Night Raven College, and much to Riddle’s bewilderment, the both of you were the subject once more. The act of gossiping was something he couldn’t exactly approve of, but if the students really had to, did they not have anything more interesting to talk about? Why were they not old news already? There were bound to be topics far more interesting than a crush he didn’t even have in the first place!

“What is it this time? Don’t tell me people are warping it to something far worse now,” because quite frankly, he did his due diligence to stop looking at you so much, keep his jealousy at bay and manifest that energy in other ways, like just working harder. Less distraction, more concentration mentality.

“No, not at all! Or, at least by my standards, but you might not agree.” There was something about Cater’s words, paired with Trey’s own humming, that had him a little more nervous than he thought he would be. Should be. Why were they all making such a big deal out of this?

“Actually… you know how people think you like… you know who?”

“Haha, you know who? We sound like children. Can’t we say a name?” Despite finding it ridiculous, or perhaps just funny, Trey chose to go along with it. “But you do know, right? Cater said he told you, but I wasn’t sure if you believed him.”

“Hard not to when the evidence speaks for itself,” and continues to speak—endlessly, actually. Everyone was as subtle talking about him as he, allegedly, was when it came to staring at you. Additionally, some braver souls tried to get him to slip up by mentioning your name, giggling and snickering amongst themselves as they anticipated his answer, only to be left disappointed as he neither confirmed nor denied anything, only talking about boring things like your grades and work ethic.

Honestly, in a world where Riddle did like you and he wasn’t too busy covering up something else, he would have had them collared already.

“I thought everything would just die down naturally. What happened?”

“Apparently~” Cater began to say, with a tone laced with amusement, “people think the feeling’s mutual and that you’re both just too shy to do anything about it. Croomfs, as they would say on MagiCam. Oh, that’s short for–ah, Riddle-kun?”

Riddle felt his face heat up, and he had just enough self-awareness to know he must’ve been turning red—maybe out of exasperation, maybe of discountenance, or perhaps just pure fluster. Regardless, he was in utter disbelief at how something could have escalated in such a manner.

“Riddle, calm down,” Trey warned him, likely concerned that he was going to blow up. If you asked Riddle, he thought he was actually doing quite well at being calm. For instance, he wasn’t immediately asking who started the rumor in the first place, or screaming, or stabbing his dessert like last time.

He really did want to scream, though, but he’ll… use up that energy for P.E. with Coach Vargas. Maybe he’ll shock everyone with how much better he’s performing and net himself a higher grade than you.

“You’re both staring at me as if I’ll burst out crying or something. Don’t underestimate me,” he sighed. It was his fault anyway, the reason this all started, so whatever you might have said or done to worsen the rumors would all be attributed to him in the first place. “But I don’t get it. At least on my end there was a reason, but as far as I know, isn’t that much just baseless?”

“Baseless?” Trey exclaimed, clearly surprised at his interpretation. “So you haven’t noticed?”

“Noticed what?”

“Ah, we can’t have our dorm leader stay clueless, can we? Try looking to your left, behind you, but do it slowly so you look casual about it.”

That meant where you usually sat, right? He deliberately sat facing away from your table so he wouldn’t subconsciously stare, but here he was, about to casually look at you—whatever a casual look even meant.

Well, Cater was the expert at things like this, right? Look slowly? He could do that.

He turned his head around, and it wasn’t long before he spotted you sitting at your usual table and in the Queen’s name, did you just make eye contact with him?

Before you could say or do anything, he whipped his head back quickly, staring down his plate of food. From the reflection of his spoon, he could tell he had turned red again, though even if he had not looked, it was obvious by the way Trey tried to cover up his snickering with unconvincing coughs.

“So cute, isn’t it?” Riddle didn’t know what or who Cater was referring to as cute , but maybe he preferred not to know something, just this once. “You get it now, right? You’re being stared at, too~ isn’t the conclusion natural?”

Were you really? He was trying not to stare at you, so obviously he wasn’t going to notice you looking if he wasn’t looking.

“It’s most likely a case of trying to figure out why I was staring in the first place,” Riddle excused, though he found it to be a very logical reason. Despite not knowing you very well, he figured you wouldn’t be the type to have feelings for someone you’ve had less than 20 conversations with, a majority of which involved the word congratulations or good job .

“Wait, why were you staring in the first place?” Trey asked, “I mean, I do have my suspicions, but Cater wouldn’t say. He was bragging about how he knew something about you that I didn’t.”

“I’ll explain later,” because talking about it in the cafeteria, he realized, was probably a bad idea. Quite honestly, he was surprised no one had learned the truth—all they had to do was eavesdrop on him. “I just don’t get it. We’re not even friends, so how are people jumping to these kinds of conclusions?”

“Because people like to romanticize everything, duh! Will they, won’t they, strangers to lovers, or maybe even a secret relationship type of beat! So shippable! ♪”

“Haah , I don’t… no, never mind. The issue is, how do I get the rumors to stop?”

“You could talk about it? With, you know, since you’re both in the same boat now,” Trey supplied, though Riddle had to disagree. He’d thought about that too, but…

“Might just worsen things. People will see it as relationship development instead,” Cater said, seemingly having thought the same as Riddle. Honestly, he just hoped he could think of something to do to finally put everything to rest.

It’s for both of your sakes. He wanted to be able to focus on studying without thinking of you, or having people think he likes you.

Plus, although he can’t exactly say he likes you, he still respects you as a fellow top student. There was no way you could be dense enough not to notice, and even if you were he was sure your friends would have told you about him. Surely you were bothered by it, and that you were just being nice by not chewing him out.

Actually, did you even know you fanned the flames towards the rumor?

Riddle wasn’t one to rely on fate, but perhaps he should have gotten his fortune read by Cater, and maybe then he would have been warned of what was to come exactly a week after.

He had always been good at practical magic, with the upside that it was one of the few subjects he was confident he was better at than you, so he always looked forward to attending this class in particular. However, the teacher seemed to want to change his mind.

It wasn’t unheard of to have a partner for a project, but professors usually went by alphabetical order, or just let students choose their own pairs. If not that, then some professors would put who they deemed more responsible with the troublemaker, just for one to keep the other in line. He’s had his fair share of the latter.

What he had not been expecting was having to choose a playing card from what seemed to be an incomplete standard deck, the professor clearly having taken some out to match the number of students in the class.

“Remember, your partner will be someone from the same suit as you. For instance, two of spades pairs with three of spades, four with five, six and seven, eight and nine, ten and Jack, Queen and King.”

He looked at the card in his hand, the Queen of Hearts. Why did she look so daunting so suddenly, when he idolized her all this time?

“Riddle?”

Right. He might have not relied on fate, or even luck or karma, but he just had a feeling something like this would happen.

It was interesting how a few simple actions could blow up to something more in the eyes of others, almost fascinating to observe had he not been one of the two subjects being analyzed. At his position, it was just irritating.

“The King of Hearts,” even without eyeing your card, he would have known. Things that had him in disbelief seemed to just keep happening these days. “You should sit down, then. So that everyone else can go back to what they were doing.”

He really couldn’t help himself then, but it was truly becoming more vexing as time went on. Plus, it was difficult to hold any regrets when you seemed to agree.

“Yes, it would be bad if people couldn’t focus because of us.”

Aside from the lone cry of how unfair it was that the top two students got paired up together, it was obvious people were amused at the coincidental pairing. He turned to properly look at you—it’s been a while since he’s done that—wondering if you were irritated or flustered, but you seemed more bemused than anything.

“If the cards weren’t shuffled in front of us, I would have said the pairing was rigged,” you commented as you strolled over to him, a chair dragged with you as you sat down by his side. “Sorry. This is likely my fault.”

“No. I won’t deny that it’s worsened, but you just… everyone who escalated it to such an unreasonable degree definitely has fault as well, but I do take blame for having started it,” by staring at you in the first place, but why were you staring at me as well by the way? Even after I’ve stopped? I know it’s definitely not romantic, and you don’t seem to glare in contempt, so what do you feel towards me?

“It’s fine, I don’t really mind. Rumors just come and go.”

Well, you didn’t seem to hate him, that or you were a really good actor, but you seemed to be honest enough. Admittedly, he had his doubts about how long it would truly take for this specific rumor to go away, but he would not deny feeling less guilty. If you could ignore it, then he should have that same ability too.

“Yes, you have a point,” Riddle said with a hum, procuring himself a notebook and pen, “so, let’s get planning, shall we?”

Riddle had to admit, it was so easy to get jealous of you, but you were probably the best groupmate he would ever have. Yes, he still had his bouts of inadequacy, discontent, how you could possibly manage to contest him in academics, but with that came admiration, respect, and currently, appreciation .

There was just something about being able to split parts equally, the way he can trust you to actually do your assigned tasks, that your research would come from reliable sources and be properly cited, and that your work would require only little corrections on his part, perhaps some suggestions.

In the same light, receiving not merely praise, but actual well-thought out critiques from you was something he liked more than he cared to admit. Just praise, particularly about his intelligence, was normal, if not expected. Just insults (and not critiques, there was a difference) did nothing but anger him. You were not just efficient, but well-mannered.

It was nice to have someone reliable like you.

“I was listening to your debate, during history of magic,” you suddenly said, just as the two of you began discussing the next step of your project, “it was incredibly enthralling. Of course, that is to be expected considering the topic was about the Queen of Hearts’ governance, of course you know a lot about her, but it was clear you don’t just read from the textbooks, but you create your own analysis as well by comparing multiple accounts and taking into consideration perspectives of past and present. Your opponent hardly stood a chance.”

But it still annoyed him, just a bit, how likable you could be. It made him feel guilty for how he inwardly antagonized you in his head, the way he saw you as an obstacle to beat so he can claim his spot as the top student of the year. Even worse was how he couldn’t quite get rid of those feelings completely. He could forget about it for a while, but then it would just… come back.

He needed to get a grip.

“You remembered that? That was a month ago, wasn’t it?” He was sure you were referring to the time Professor Trein had them debate about the Great Seven—it was rather heated, considering every student happened to have a favorite they were particularly passionate about, and it was no surprise he chose to talk about the Queen of Hearts herself. He was from Heartslabyul and the Queendom of Roses, so was it not a given?

Still, he was proud of himself for his performance back then, even if his opponent, as you said, didn’t stand a chance.

He wondered how things would have turned out if you were the one he had to go against. How would it feel to lose, and yet have a fulfilling discussion? How would it feel to win? How much different would it feel to win and to lose if it was against you?

“But there’s no need to flatter me. Public speaking is something I’m used to, so writing speeches and reciting them comes naturally to me now.”

“Mhm? If that’s the case, then I’m glad to be paired with you. Ah, not that I wasn’t already,” you said with a laugh. It was such an odd statement to make, in a way. First of all, it wasn’t like you needed his help, you would have done well with anyone as your partner—of course you would, you had to be number one for a reason. Second, he hadn’t expected you to actually verbalize it. Third,

“Really? I thought you would want to avoid having me as your partner,” because he certainly did, “because of the rumors, specifically.”

“Oh, you’re still concerned about those?”

Riddle liked to address the rumors as though he didn’t care about them (when he truly did), telling people off for whispering and gossiping in general, but there was a stark difference between him and you.

With one question he could tell you never truly cared about it, like it was white noise you could simply tune out. He envied how nonchalant you seemed, the realization that he might’ve been the only one who was bothered and bothered to think about how to get the gossip to die down.

“You’re not?”

“I’m looking on the bright side is all,” you said, though he wasn’t sure what advantages there were in having people assume he liked you, or you liked him, or that the two of you were secretly dating. “But the reason I’m glad to be paired with you is that I finally have the chance to talk to you… and work together with you. I mean, we share a few classes, and we’re both top students, but we don’t really talk. I thought we’d get more chances to talk.”

While you seemed to be telling the truth, there was something artificial about your tone, causing Riddle to wonder what you honestly thought about being his partner in the first place. He didn’t want to doubt you, but he just did.

“You do have a point. We’ve never been paired up together before,” and, really, had Riddle paid that much attention to you before you landed yourself the top rank? Thinking about it now, he doesn’t remember much of you from his first year.

“Exactly. Plus, I’ve always thought you were a good person, trying to help both your under and upperclassmen. But I’ve always just seen you do things, does that make sense? I just feel it might be nice to actually get to know you this time, don’t you agree?”

Did he agree? On one hand, he won’t deny that he’s enjoyed himself, finding it pleasant talking to you, and to add to that the project has been nothing but smooth sailing. On the other hand, becoming your partner for this project didn’t do anything to remove his jealousy, it just made him hate himself for being jealous in the first place, towards someone who’s talked nothing but kindly about him, to him.

Worse, apart from academics, he’s found other things to be jealous of.

“Yes, I’m glad the feeling is mutual,” Riddle finally replied, and then he had to remember the rumor at the worst possible time. He knew neither of you were talking about romance, but why did he have to choose that word? The word Cater used?

“Riddle? Are you okay?”

“Yes,” not quite, but he would be, as soon as he stopped thinking about it. You didn’t care about the rumor, so he should work harder to get it out of his head as well. It would be better if he stopped caring about matters to do with you overall. “I believe I just need some fresh air. I’m not sure if you’ve heard of this before, but it’s said that pacing as you study helps you memorize things faster. For our script, it might be a good idea to—”

“Oh, that’s a great idea, Riddle!” He found himself naturally smiling at the comment, only to momentarily freeze in his seat when you continued, “Since we already have our first draft, we could exchange lines while going on a walk. We can consider this our first dry run!”

Riddle let out a noisy exhale, despite knowing it was bad manners to do so. It was a good idea, and it would certainly allow the both of you to have good chemistry while presenting, but he could just see how walking around the school together would bring more attention to the both of you.

“Just leave your things here. No one would dare steal from you considering you’re my,” Riddle let out a small hum, “partner.”

It was a difficult affair, attempting to carry an air of nonchalance about him, but he attempted to do so anyway as he unlocked the door, allowing anyone and everyone to peer into Heartslabyul’s private studying room and just who he had been there with.

For once, it was actually silent in the dorm, although he wished the students had carried on with their usual noise and ruckus if it meant he could walk by your side without the feeling of being watched and observed, scrutinized. It was that feeling that had him subconsciously walking ahead of you, the pitter-patter of your shoes remaining behind him even as the both of you left the Hall of Mirrors, you having taken hold of his arm, or rather what of the fabric you could reach.

“You’re not the King of Hearts, are you? Try not to tug on my sleeve so much.”

“The card—never mind. The point is—” you gripped him a little harder this time, stopping your walk in the middle of a deserted hallway, “the point is that this is less pacing as much as it is you speed walking and leaving me to play catch up. Can we even memorize this properly with you trying to be two steps ahead of me all the time?”

At the start you had tried to play your comment off like a joke, but at your failure to sound convincing you had turned to a serious tone. Though you sounded composed, it was different from your previous politeness, all except for that hint of artificiality he had detected before. An illusion had been shattered—that friendliness and kindness, while not entirely dishonest, had been enhanced to put up a distance, one that would allow you to observe him.

Riddle realized that although the reasons were not the same, you were bothered by him as well.

“I’m not trying to be,” he insisted, despite having to turn his head back to address you properly.

“But that doesn’t change the fact that you are, and that being seen with me is something so detestable,” you were hissing now, not unlike an irritated hedgehog, needy for attention and yet warning him to keep a distance. The irony of the thought was not lost on him, considering what you seemed to want was to close it. “It truly makes me wonder how people even thought you liked me in the first place.”

“You never believed it?”

“Obviously! What kind of—” as if realizing just where the both of you were standing, you tugged on his sleeve again, taking the chance to lead him into the nearest empty classroom. Maybe the both of you should never have left the privacy of the study room in the first place.

You sat yourself atop one of the desks, a good blind spot to hide away from any passersby outside. The choice had Riddle heated, not for the blatant disrespect of school property and lack of manners, but how he knew the closer he got, he would find that you would tower over him, look down on him. It was what compelled Riddle to not seat himself on a table of higher elevation, but to walk towards the teacher’s desk—if only to assert control; if not over the conversation, then himself.

“Of course I never believed you liked me! Just because you stared at me?” you scoffed, as if it was not reason enough. For Riddle, who simply accepted the unfortunate circumstances he had been placed in, thought it was a fair explanation for his staring. “You always looked so heated and angry, like you were glaring at the sun. I thought I was imagining things, but now I know you must actually hate me.”

“Except I don’t hate you. Could you not put words into my mouth?”

“Fine, if you don’t hate me then maybe you just dislike me, or being associated with me. Stop the rumors then! They’ll listen, or at least shut up about it in front of you!”

“It’s not hate or dislike, for goodness sake!” Riddle cried out, his temper and his desperation for you to understand his feelings finally getting the better of him. He strolled up to you and sat himself at the desk right next to you, suddenly uncaring of the rules and decorum. “I want to explain, I just can’t!”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

“Can’t, ” he asserted, “not properly. I don’t know how to tell you. You won’t understand.”

“Just try me.” Although the remnants of your flames persisted in the air, the furrow of your eyebrows had lessened. “I just want to resolve this. Was it something that I did?”

Something you did? Riddle laughed inwardly, and on his tongue he tasted the bitterness he had felt all this time. It had to be the accumulation of you doing everything right.

“It’s your rank ,” Riddle began to say, already discomfited by your incredulous stare. He knew that look, he had seen it on so many people, but he was disquieted by how you of all people had mirrored it as well.

“ Grades? All this because of that? Riddle, that’s—”

“You don’t have to tell me, I already know! I don’t want to be jealous of you, and I already know it’s wrong that I feel like this when you’ve only ever treated me well, but my pride and my ego demands that I blame you for my own shortcomings, even if the truth is, I only have myself to blame.”

The words escaped his larynx like blazes, his haste to get everything out leaving him near breathless upon finishing what he had to say. Except, the more time passed he found himself not being satisfied with his explanation. Just as his jealousy had been needless, he just as much wanted to not be hated by you, to be misunderstood by you.

To say he hated, or even disliked you was so blatantly wrong because he did like you—not in the manner that people presumed, but in the sense that he wanted to be considered more than just a classmate or competitor, but your friend.

“I respect you, and I might even admire you even more now that I’ve learned more about you, but it’s not stopping me from feeling jealous. What am I supposed to do about this?”

The setting sun might as well have risen with how much time had passed since getting a response from you, but when you finally do, you look at him not with disdain, or disgust, or resentment, or even pity. Contemplative was the word Riddle chose to describe it, like you were simply trying to understand him.

“That’s just the thing. Even if you like someone, it might not go away,” you shrugged like it was nothing, but when he tried to look at your eyes he could tell you were answering him as seriously as you could, “so there’s no one solution to something like that. Maybe if you get to know me more, you’ll stop feeling jealous, maybe not completely, or maybe I’ll be the one to find something to be jealous of when it comes to you.

“Or, who knows, maybe you’ll find a healthy way to cope with it, or maybe avoiding me once our presentation is over really is the way… but looking at you now, you don’t seem to want that either.”

He wondered just what expression he had been making for you to read his thoughts so easily. He had only begun ignoring you because he found himself becoming too aware of you, and an action of force had soon become instinctive.

“I’m sorry,” Riddle said, not really knowing what else he could say, “I’ll make sure to make it up to you.”

“Let’s both cool off first before we even think about that,” you replied with a laugh, slipping yourself off the desk to walk towards the door. Riddle had yet to follow suit. “No more scripts or academics for the rest of the day. You should do the same as well.”

It has been a while since he had felt the need to abandon his studies so early in the day, but the redhead agreed with your sentiments, already feeling the need to distract himself with dinner before eventually holing himself up in his room to do nothing but think.

“Just one more thing, before you go,” he said, inhaling a whole gust of wind in his nervousness, “you don’t hate me for this, do you?”

“No.” The word had come out a bit shaky, as if you were unprepared to answer him. As Riddle did not know better, he had an inkling that perhaps you were lying, to a degree, even though you’ve been far more honest with him than him with you. You wouldn’t look back at him either, even after you cleared your throat, inhaled through your nose.

“No,” you repeated, and gone was the emotion Riddle could not describe, so quick to return to a composure he wished he possessed, “I’m frustrated is all. Let’s… reconvene tomorrow.”

He escorted you back to the study room to retrieve your things, walking not quite side-by-side, and yet horizontally aligned.

True to your word, the bouts of jealousy didn’t stop, not entirely, but the more he accepted it, the more he opened up and told you about it, the faster it subsided and gave way to something else—appreciation, and if he were to be honest, there was part adoration as well.

Last he heard, some time after your presentation and right before the both of you chose to scold people outright, the both of you were going strong, described with a word not to be used lightly. Riddle, even now, would dare not to use that word with you, far too strong and too soon (because it seemed everything to do with you was an inevitability), but even in the mess of himself, of his emotions and things still left unresolved, he thinks he might like you.

He will at least use the lesser word.

In the same way that the jealousy didn’t, he did not stop finding you likeable. If anything, the more he got to know you, and actually know you instead of making assumptions about you based on what you presented in front of him, the more he liked you, the more curious he got of you. If before he simply respected your work ethic, now he admired you even outside of it.

“But why did you decide to suddenly take studying seriously?”

“It probably had to do with me being terribly jealous of you in my first year,” you said it like you had rehearsed for that specific question everyday for the past few months, but now that Riddle had a better idea of what you were like he could tell you weren’t as calm as you pretended to be. It was with that observation that he allowed himself to freely express his shock.

It was not that he was surprised someone was capable of being jealous of him, he’s very well aware that there are things to be jealous of, but the fact that you were had shocked him to his core.

“I’m sorry?”

“I thought you were one of those naturally smart, know-it-all snobs who looked down on everyone not as smart as them, so…” you faltered, as if suddenly forgetting your lines. “...but, you know, first impressions don’t always last. I saw how you even took the time to help your upperclassmen with studying, so I guess I just resolved myself.”

“Study to forget?”

“More like… inspired,” you supplied, hesitant with your wording as opposed to unsure of your thoughts, “instead of being, for lack of a better word, a hater, I told myself that I should just work as hard as you… I might have overdid it honestly. Do you think I’m overdoing it now?”

“As long as you’re not pushing yourself too much,” Riddle said, despite knowing he was quite the hypocrite himself. Maybe that was why you didn’t call him out for it, because you had your moments of being one as well.

Or perhaps it wasn’t quite hypocrisy but a mutual understanding, having seen a reflection of themselves, someone they’ve been and something they’ve done in the past. Rather than hypocrisy, was it not a kindredness shared between the both of you?

“But I really never expected to surpass you or anything, and by one point too!” you sighed, and once more Riddle found himself surprised at how he felt nothing at the reminder. “Really, of all ways to get your attention. Maybe I should have broken some rules instead.”

“Why is it that you only want to draw negative emotions out of me?” Riddle joked, or at least hoped it had come across that way. “But why would you want my attention anyway? Because you wanted to be my friend?”

“Huh?”

You had not meant to let that part slip, Riddle realized. It bothered Riddle—having to hypothesize what it possibly implied.

“Oh, yes,” you agreed, but no matter how convincing you could get yourself to sound, Riddle found it difficult to believe. “There’s that, and then wanting acknowledgement I suppose, since I was trying so hard to be as good as you. Kind of like a prize. Gratification. I thought it’d be nice if you admired me the same way I did.”

Oh . No wonder you had been so upset with him.

“And then I just glared at you every day for a month or so.”

“Well, we’re past that now, aren’t we? It worked out for us in the end,” you laughed. This time, he was sure you were being completely honest with him. “You do admire me, don’t you?”

“Must you clarify things you already know?”

Again, he found himself envious of how you could say such things without getting as frazzled and warm and crimson as him. He tries to do the same anyway.

“I do admire you.”

He ignored the beating of his heart in order to watch you smile, as if there was nothing in the world you wanted to hear more. So this was the look of gratification, the feeling you so wanted from him. It matched you well.

“I guess there is one more reason,” you replied suddenly, “but I don’t feel like telling you right now.”

“Then when?” he pried, curious like the people of the Queendom of Roses were known to be. He only asks when, for the whys are obvious to him. Whether you tell him something good or bad, the end result will be–

“We won’t be able to focus on our revisions if we keep talking about this,” you said, conveniently bringing up your upcoming exams to switch the topic, “if we slack off any more, I wouldn’t be surprised if Azul snatched up the top spot this time around. Jamil, too. You’ve noticed his grades, right? They’re—”

“Then after exams,” Riddle interrupted, as though he had not been listening at all. He had been, it was more of him not even foreseeing anyone coming close to either one of you. You were the only one he would accept losing to, although he was sure he would come out on top this time. “We can discuss it after exams.”

“You make everything sound like it’s going to be a properly planned event, but fine. If you–if I beat you, I’ll tell you all about it. And don’t expect me to go easy on you to chicken out of it.”

“Is that so? What will you do when I rank first, then?”

“Make up your own incentive!”

Riddle sighed. Although no one was forcing him to, he wanted to even out the playing field, just to make things fair for you. “Then let me be the one to tell you something.”

“Do you have something to tell me?”

“Not yet,” Riddle turned back to his papers, realizing he must have been staring at you for who knows how long. “Maybe by the time the results come out, I’ll know how to tell you.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see you look away from him as well, trying to hold back a grin. You were excited, and if he did not know it was his alchemy notes you were looking at, he would have wondered what you were smiling at.

“Then stop staring and start studying,” you replied without so much as looking up—maybe you just felt his eyes on you, or perhaps it was a case of you staring when he was not, just like the rumors used to say. Cheekily, you added, “you can look at me later.”

“You’re so troublesome,” Riddle said, inconceivably fond.

Perhaps a time will come where when he goes to stare at you, you’ll be staring, too, gazing with nothing but—

end notes | masterlist

[1] The King of Hearts often tugged on the Queen's skirt to get her attention. Line taken from Riddle's SR Labwear.

[2] Jealousy is difficult to get rid of. The idea that it can just disappear because you befriend someone, or end up loving someone is just untrue. If anything, I think jealousy feels worse when it's towards someone you actually like, because the guilt just consumes you. You want to stop, but how? I wanted to show how it's not that liking Reader got rid of his jealousy, but more that for himself and reader, he works on getting through it in healthier ways, and the importance of communication.

[3] In characterizing Riddle, I wanted to highlight how even though he really does try to rule with his head, a lot of the time he acts instinctively.

[4] Also, I was wondering if Riddle's thoughts and emotions were too much of a mess, but looking back at it, I decided to keep it messy. Jealousy is messy. When it comes to the reader, he really just is all over the place, from flustered, to wanting to avoid them out of guilt, to anger, to any other emotion under the sun. He's no good at sorting out his emotions, a contrast to reader who hides it (until they don't).

[5] In characterizing the reader, at first I wanted them to be pure and nice and give good advice, but the more I thought about it, I thought Riddle would be good with someone who could argue with him as well, someone who knew when to "put out the fire with water" and when to "fight fire with fire". By going for the latter, I thought it better showed Riddle and reader as equals, turning a one-sided rivalry feeling into something mutual. Similarly, reader's one-sided admiration becomes mutual.

[6] I hope people are alright with the ending. I think that the both of them still have a lot of room to grow into that, and grow as people too, but I wanted to establish that they do like each other, they (Riddle in particular) just have other things to deal with first, and hint at the inevitability of them getting together, maybe not soon but sometime later. Maybe I'll write a follow up, maybe I'll just leave it up to you.

[7] Why does the ending line cut off? Because Riddle thinks it's too strong a word for now.

#twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #riddle rosehearts #twst #riddle rosehearts x you #nathya twst writing #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland

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