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angelizs · 2 years

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[Valentine's first winter - Riddle Rosehearts]

Summary: Through the haziness of his sickness, your light shines through. You stay by his side and Riddle's heart blossoms for you.

Notes: gn!reader, sickfic, fluff, could be read as a continuation of my other Riddle oneshot but it's not necessary to understand, super self indulgent, established relationship, Riddle's mother is it's own warning

Spring is the time for warmth, the time to watch the flowers bloom and appreciate the calming breeze. Winter is the contrary, it's the time for the chill, the time for the skies to open and cry onto the earth.

Riddle usually was prepared for such times, of course. He'd check the weather cast everyday to make sure to bring an umbrella or a coat with him and text you to do the same. The thing is, he was also very busy, what with the finals weeks and winter vacation coming, as the Housewarden he had to deal with more paperwork than usual and keep an eye on the Heartslabyul's students to make sure they were keeping up with their studies. Since Trey wasn't the vice housewarden anymore, having moved on to the next grade and doing his reasearch somewhere at the Queendom of Roses, Riddle had more work than he was used to.

You made sure to check on him, reminding him to take breaks periodically. You even went to his room yourself, a tray of hand made sweets and tea in your hands. Riddle could feel the warmth of spring through his entire being as he looked at your gentle smile. He'd stop everything he was doing to spend some time with you, talking about your days in a way that brought peace for his soul for a moment, no thoughts spared for the mountains of paperwork left to do.

Still, it was due to having such a stressful schedule that he got too caught up with his work and forgot to check the weather cast one day. It was only one day, a little slip, but it cost him. On that day, Lady Luck turned her head away from him and the heavens poured onto the campus of NRC. What's worst, Riddle had been on the botanical garden when it happened, tending to his alchemy experiment. He only noticed the downpour once it was too late to run back safely, getting caught in the middle of it.

And that's how Riddle Rosehearts found himself on the nurse's office, body burning up and cursing his unattentiveness.

Riddle remembers when he got sick once, as a child. He felt terrible, hot all over, sweating and dizzy. What's worse, he couldn't concentrate on his books at all, his eyes felt heavy and kept closing on their own. He just wanted to sleep, but he still had to finish one exercise. His hands trembled as he tried to write some gibberish, he'd never felt so bad before. His eyes watered and his vision was blurry, words getting mixed with the others, although there was one thing he could see clear as day. His mother disappointed face as she came to check on him.

She put the back of her hand against his forehead and the cold felt so good against his burning skin, he couldn't help but lean into it, closing his eyes in relief and letting out a whimper. The sensation was gone sooner than it appeared, leaving Riddle to almost topple over with the weight of his own head. She said something about him not listening when she warned him about the climate change, as winter approaching tended to bring such colds. He couldn't listen properly, his head was full of mush, he could barely keep his eyes open. She tutted and grabbed him by the arm, getting him up so fast he felt like throwing up, his vision blacking out for a second and losing his footing, only that firm brusing hand on his arm keeping him up.

She took him to his bed and gave him some bitter medicine, telling him to stay put for the rest of the day. He obliged, as always, what else could he do? His mother was a doctor, she knew what she was talking about. He knew she had better, more important things to do than look for her disobedient son that went and got himself sick. She's a busy woman, so busy that outside of lessons he almost never saw her. He understood, she had to work hard to keep herself at the top, and that meant she didn't have much free time to spare him. Still, he felt very lonely in such a vulnerable state. Alone in his room, the aching in his chest felt worse than the cold. The red of the wall burnt his eyes, so he burried himself on the covers, still sweating, hugged his pillow on his chest and wished, desperately hoped, for it to go away soon.

The sensations from back then come to haunt him again. There's shivers breaking out on his body but his skin burns, he can't decide if he's running too cold or too hot or too much. His muscles weight a ton, holding him back on the bed, making his movements sluggish. He wants to rip out his vocal cords and weave new ones, ones that won't grant on his ears and won't rasp his throat with every syllable.

He can hear the door opening. It's not the nurse, but you. Through the haziness of his sickness, your light shines through. You stay by his side and Riddle's heart blossoms for you.

You have a worried look in your eyes as you pull a chair to sit next to his bed, eyeing him with concern. He hates that he's a bother, that he caused you distress over something so easily avoidable. Even so, your presence washes over him as if cleansing his soul. He's glad to see you, he realizes. He's glad to not be left alone.

There's a cup of water in your hands, and he gladly takes it, greedily downing it. The liquid freezes all the way down his throat, his flaring insides lapping it up, he wants to drink more and more. Your hand takes his and makes him slow down, least he chokes. It's a little thing, but this simple gesture makes his insides flutter. You take the glass from his hands once he's done, putting it on the bedside table and focusing your whole attention on him. He wants to drink up the sight of you.

The way Riddle looks at you leaves you breathless, fever ridden lidded eyes glancing through his lashes as if you were everything he could ever need. You hung up the stars on the sky, you painted every color of the sunset, you were the sun and the moon, the cosmos itself. He looked with so much adoration, as if he couldn't believe that you were still there, with him of all people. Him. You choose him and you stayed with him and he was so, so grateful for it.

You call out his name softly, oh so softly, and give him a kiss on the forehead, your lips leaving a tingling sensation. He wanted to berate you, to tell you to not that, since you could get sick too, but no word left his sore throat, he couldn't gather the strenght to protest against something that felt so good. Instead, he lets the words that run through his mind leave his tongue, unfiltered.

"You shouldn't be worrying about me, you have more important things to care about."

You smile, a bittersweet thing, eyes contemplating, as if asking youself 'doesn't he get it?' He's not in the best state to read your expression, though. You tenderly put your hand on his forehead, moving some hair sticking there and feeling his warmth. He leans into the touch, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips.

"Oh, Riddle, I'm taking care of something important. In fact, I can't think of a single thing that could be more important than you. The rest can wait, I want to make sure you're ok first and foremost."

Riddle's eyes widen and he opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. What could he say to that? His vision blurries, but he isn't sure if it's because of the fever or something else. Maybe it has something to do with the way your eyes gaze at him, so full of unfiltered love that Riddle could never doubt a word that falls from your lips, doesn't matter if they seem too good to be true.

You giggle at his cute dumbfounded expression, teasing him a little. "Cat got your tongue?"

He pouts, cheeks puffing up a bit and turns his head away. It's extremely endearing, you can't help but let out a laugh. Your hand run through his bangs, taking them off his sweaty skin, massaging his temples. He closes his eyes, pure relief flowing through him.

It felt nice to be taken care of like this, the simple comfort of your steady presence by his side made him feel like he was safe, like it would be alright, that he could let go and trust you'd take care of him. He wanted to grip onto this feelings and not let go, let them fill him up and chase the disease out of his system. One of his hands lifted to cover yours that was still in his forehead, a childish impulse to make sure you'd stay. You let out another soft laugh, the sound being enough to make him breath better, lifting a weight from his chest. You'd stay, he was sure of it. You always do.

Still, Riddle felt disgusting, runny nose and sticky skin, face as red as his hair. He wanted to get out of his dermis, rinse his bones until they shined and stopped feeling like that, unbearably dirty. But you didn't move away from him, your expression was always that of worry and fondness, never of disgust. "I'd never be disgusted of you, Riddle." You murmur, and he must have let his thoughts slip through his loose tongue. "It's a normal reaction, you can't control it. There's no reason to feel ashamed." It's so easy to fall for your words, so easy to let himself fully believe in them, so easy to accept the reassurance.

Riddle can take care of himself. He doesn't need to be babied and he doesn't need anyone's pity. He wants to do things his way, he doesn't want to depend on anyone, doesn't want to look weak. But your gentle voice echoes in his head, saying that's ok to ask for help. He doesn't need to do everything alone, he can count on you. And he trusts you so much, with his entire soul, so he lets you stay by his side. He knows that once he wakes up, you'll still be there. You always stay.

"Rest up, dear." Your voice hypnotizes him, there's no way to not listen when you hold so much fondness in a single word, a single word that makes his heartbeat run faster and a his lips curl upwards.

He lets himself fall freely in the feeling of your love. Your breathing lulling him to sleep, his fingers gripping your hand and not letting go. His eyes close softly, naturally, and the tension seeps away from his body. You'll take good care of him, he's sure. You'll hold his worries in your hands, taking them out of his mind to let him rest.

There's no doubt in his mind that what he feels is love. Outside, the harsh winds of winter cut through the sky. Inside, the soft warmth of spring envelops his sleep.

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #twisted wonderland #wonderland wonder #I've got a very annoying cold so that means I must make Riddle suffer with me.#try to guess which Mitski song I listened to this time. hint: it's from bury me at makeout creek #Bee do you not listen to anything other than Mistki? actually I've got a very ecletic music taste but there's smth abt Mitski's songs #they always give me a burst of creativity and make me write #like my last Riddle writing I also wrote this on a whim in like an hour so. if there's any mistakes. no there isn't. just look away #I'm simply projecting my cold on him and hoping it'll go away soon #I was reading his labwear vignette and thought wow he's just like me... cue my wicked smile and evil laughter as I plan to make him suffer

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jarvis-cockhead · 2 months

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Okay one person has given me an excuse to yap so:

An Overview of Moz Politics

Disclaimer this is super informal but essentially I think I've cracked the Morrissey code as to why he seems to hold so many conflicting beliefs at once. My finding is that he doesn't, actually, his beliefs just play out differently within the UK vs the US. This means a man can side with both Bernie Sanders and Nigel Farage and not be contradicting himself, somehow. Anyway. The key Moz policies to be aware of:

- Anti royalist & despises the monarchy

- Hates Thatcher

- Hates the Conservatives (I think it's very funny that in 2010 he backed up Marr on saying David Cameron isn't allowed to like The Smiths)

- Anti war (? evidence inconclusive especially recent events, this is mostly an assumption based on his 2013 criticisms of Bush for the Iraq war)

- Believes Obama should've done more to tackle police brutality

- Sexuality inconclusive but we know he supports gay rights. Criticised Trump for not having any sympathy for the victims of the Pulse shooting

- Speaking of Trump, in 2017 when asked if he would push a button to kill Trump, he said yes, "for the safety of the human race"

- Early in the 2016 election he endorsed Clinton but later praised Bernie Sanders as "sane and intelligent" and said the media should've given him more coverage

However 😸

- His views on animal rights have led him to support PETA and call Chinese people a 'subspecies' because of their treatment of animals

- Said in 2019 he thinks Farage would be a good prime minister

- 'Nearly voted' UKIP (2013)

- Doesn't like the EU, presumably voted leave

- Claimed to have nothing against people from other countries but said in 2007 that British identity is disappearing due to immigration

- Endorsed Anne Marie Waters far-right party For Britain in 2018. "She believes in British heritage, freedom of speech, and she wants everyone in the UK to live under the same law. I find this compelling"

- Supported anti-islam activist Tommy Robinson under the guise of free speech, "It's very obvious that Labour or the Tories do not believe in free speech"

- In response to racism accusations he claimed that "everyone prefers their own race"

All of this is taken from his Wikipedia page, and there haven't been any updates on recent politics, so as of right now this is all we have to go off.

The TLDR:

Morrissey hates conservatives and capitalism, he's pro 'the people' and British heritage, and is so far up himself he'll let his animal rights beliefs turn into abhorrent racism.

His own personal description of his politics:

The way I've come to understand it is that when it comes to British politics, since he hates capitalism, the Conservatives (and he doesn't seem to think much of Labour either), the monarchy, and seems very strong on heritage, his views align closer to working class far-right groups like UKIP and For Britain. In America on the other hand you're a bit more limited to Republican vs Democrat, and of course he isn't going to support the super capitalist Republicans. He also doesn't have any ties to heritage to muddy his choices.

His racism in relation to animal rights is it's own thing but clearly shows he has no issues with racist views.

... And that's essentially it. Probably the only Morrissey hypocrisy is him stating in 2004 that The National Front Disco is him expressing sadness and regret for anyone who joins far-right movements, when later he'll go and do... Just that. Aside from that, he's very unchanging in his principles. It just depends on the playing field.

I don't care to go into the morals and ethics of liking his music/The Smiths, he just fascinates me as a person. Do I still wish he'd get his head out of his own arse? Absolutely.

#phd in morrissey #but yeah this is essentially it. theres probs stuff ive missed but it makes sense i feel #within the world of morrissey he makes sense. unfortunately #morrissey #the smiths #i wish i knew what he thought about current politics but at the same time i really really dont #given a certain song he wrote about a certain 'country'#where on earth do his principles feel about that now i could not guess

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brainrotdotorg · 4 months

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i want to make this as an animatic with the speedfreaks

#egghead as the rapper andre as frankie and noid as joey OBVIOUSLY!!!!!#egghead wrote this song himself he clipmixed all of those lyrics together.#egghead is anti-masturbation by the way. funnily enough. lore drop #didnt guess that did you?#does this make sense to anybody else #NOID: He listens to the music in serious contemplation while bobbing to the beat. The song ends and he seems to come to a conclusion #''Well. yeah #it's hardcore. But I think I'd still rather jerk off''#disco elysium

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urwendii · 8 months

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The Mai Mae and Ossë Roadtrip in Middle Earth Serie.

Part 4 / ?

"Is there anything that can be done to prevent such an outcome?"

Night had fallen over them in a thick curtain of grey clouds that hung menacingly above their heads but rain had not fallen yet and in such they had time to build a hasty camp with dead woods gathered at the edge of the forest. Maedhros sat by the fire, a book opened on his lap, his right wrist holding it open and adding another log of wood with his left hand.

Ossë for once seemed to be in a quiet contemplating mood and lounged on his side, pale blue hair mingling with the carpet of dried needles. The Maia of water seemed uncaring of the state as his gaze went from Maedhros to Mairon who sat further with his back turned to them.

It had not been a good day for Mairon as they had laboured on the edges of Eregion's ruins and deeper into what had once been the Gwaith-i-Mírdain territory and their great forges.

Maedhros had not probed, whatever had happened there between Tyelpe and the Maia was bad enough that Mairon had retreated into sullen silence through the entire day.

Maedhros had seen the tapestries, had heard his nephew's anguish in the Halls and knew the story of the Rings but looking at the closed off Maia he guessed there had been more to the story of Annatar and Celebrimbor.

Turning from Mairon's distant figure he gazed at Ossë who had let out a strange tired sigh at his initial question.

"Thing is," begun the Maia "Námo loves fucking people's minds over. I think he gets a kick out of it. Like Irmo."

"His Doom for us turned out exactly how he predicted. Even Galadriel, the least concerned of the remaining Noldor with the Doom, was affected in some indirect ways."

Ossë's gaze turned sharp as he stared toward the former Dark Lord's direction.

"Was it her Doom because of some unfortunate fucked up actions in Alqualondë," as usual Maedhros' guilt forced him to bow his head. Ossë was the Teleri's patron "or because her actions put her in direct opposition with our dear Mairon?"

If he heard his own name Mairon made no move to show it.

"So you don't believe in this Prophecy? We Eldar had turned afraid of the mere idea of it. How can we not, immortals as our souls are, dread the Finite ending?"

Maedhros had learned pain and heartache in Beleriand, to such a degree it had scarred his own Fëa so brutally there had been nothing left of Maitimo by the end. Darkness he had known when he had hung on the cliff of Thangorodrim for three decades, darkness darker he had experienced when Fingon had perished so far from him and Darkness Everlasting in the Halls as what remained of his spirit curled and recoiled at the memories of all the lives he had taken, the fire of the Silmarils burning his flesh and fëa alike in a searing pain so dreadful he had barely felt the fumes of lava as he casted himself to his (deserved) ending.

But even then, there had been a hope that Fingon will be born again, untouched as he was by the Oath, and if Maedhros would throw himself in the Void then the better part of himself would still love anew, his Findekáno so brave, so lovely.

So how come he could not fear such an end, for Arda remade implied the destruction of a world where Findekáno has been Returned, safe and loved.

"I think of this more as an allegory than a physical technicality." Ossë finally replied as he sat up and crossed his long legs. "But do I believe there will be some huge battle against that fucker?" There was no love lost in Ossë's eyes as he spat the word meant for their Enemy of old.

"Melkor will fucking return, of that I am sure. The way it was done..." He clicked his tongue as Mairon had leaped on his feet and walked away, head bowed. The clear blue eyes followed the other Maia for a minute until they refocused on Maedhros.

"It was not done properly, it was too hasty. He's still there, you know, behind these doors."

Doors can be opened. Just thinking of Moringotto set Maedhros' spirit on fire. Despite the Healing and the long years, revenge still burned bright through his fëa and hröa but without the dragging weight of the Oath it was easier to manage. Still, if battle there would be, Maedhros expected to find himself on the front lines with a mighty sword in his left hand.

"Eönwë will not say anything but if you see him growing restless and slightly unhinged that'd be your cue." Ossë added with a dry snort.

Maedhros had tried to avoid thinking of the Herald of Manwë, shame still strong as he recalled these last days and yet despite his stern attitude (which Maedhros expected was mostly directed at Mairon and Ossë.) Eönwë had displayed no evidence of resentment toward Maedhros and his folly in the aftermath of the War.

"Mayhapp this is only the deserved repentance to go through the next ages knowing of Arda's impending doom." He mused. There was the sound of displaced air and shuffling of pin needles as Ossë let himself fall back on his back and crossed his arms behind his head.

"Who knows. All things end after all. It should not change our plans." Mairon had come back with them with dry woods in his arms as he quietly took a seat around the fire. Ossë had a little smile on his face as he gazed upward at the stars.

"Sometimes it's enough to believe things begin again in an infinite circle."

Maedhros pondered the words as he stared at the stars twinkling above them. He thought about Fingon safe in Valinor and realised that as long as he consciously loved him, then in its own way their universe would last.

#mai mae & ossë roadtrip in middle earth #ive lost count if its the 4th drabble i write or not lmao #this serie is turning into something more serious lol #guess to whom i have been listening and which song when i wrote this :D #Mae is asking the true questions. Mai is being gloomy (but he deserves it) and Oss is actually being helpful tonight #could not help to throw russingon in it

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