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voiidlizrd · 8 months

Note

Omg I came across your Star Child fic and I and IN LOVE.

Do you think we could get a continuation?

AHHH!!! Thank you all so much!! I really appreciate the love from the last post too! It means a lot to me since I love writing things like these! (＾▽＾)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Dorm Leaders and Hurt/Sick Star!Child Reader

Disclaimer(s): Little bits of angst but lots of fluff and comforting! May include gross stuff like throwing up, bits of blood (due to accidental injury!) and things like that! Also typos.

Includes: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Malleus

┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐

Riddle is apart of the horse riding club and brings you along to usually just watch, considering he cannot leave you alone without a proper adult (aka Trey and usually only Trey or maybe Carter considering he doesn’t trust the other dorm members as far as he can throw them) around to make sure you don’t eat anything or set anything on fire… again.

But then again, he does really enjoy bringing you along. You seem to really enjoy the horses and they seem pretty alright with you, mostly because they don’t seem to care either way wether you were around or not. Either way, Riddle thinks it’s nice to have you around.

But then you wanted to ride his horse with him!

“Pleeeeease? Just this once? I won’t ask again!” You whined tugging at PE uniform shirt, giving him a pout and attempting to do those puppy dog eyes to sway him, but it never usually works unless you annoy him long enough.

“You’re too little, Y/N,” Riddle said, putting the rattle on his horse and tightening its straps. “You might get hurt if you aren’t careful.”

“But you’re little too.” You said casually, giving him a blank look. It only worsened the blow as you just insult him based on his height.

He grits his teeth and feels his cheeks heating up, face scrunching up. “Hush! I’m older than you which is why I ride the horses! You’re like, what, nine?”

“I’m one.”

“You’re at leaste nine.” Well, you appear nine years old, but if he were getting technical, you were right about being one since you falling could be counted as your birth and having a human form, making you one, or maybe two years old.

“Still, you cannot ride the horses. Not yet at least. Maybe when you turn ten for your next birthday—“ which you picked yourself! Apparently you wanted the day to be the first time you met him, which totally didn’t make him want to cry… “I’ll let you ride the horses with me.”

You huff and cross your arms, making Riddle sigh at you, lightly ruffling your hair (though awkwardly, he’s still getting use to giving you affection).

“Riddle!” Sebek called from afar, his horse fully set up by the reins. “I think your reins are in the shed by the stables! Silver forgot to put them where they usually go in our last meeting!”

Riddle huffed and gave you one look and gave you a little smile, a small attempt to comfort you a little, before lightly jogging back to the stables and near the shed, which was a few yards away from the large sports field. Which left you alone with Riddles horse, those big beady black eyes staring into yours.

You lifted your tiny hand up to the neck of the horse’s brown fur, lightly patting it, which the horse merely stared at you as you attempted to pet it’s mane as well. It seemed unbothered but you and your antics, not even flinching or trying to nip at you when you threaded your fingers through its hair and caught a knot.

Then you got an idea…

You blinked at the horse and then grabbed onto the saddle, jumping up a few times to try and put your foot into the foot holders. After a few tries, you were able to hoist yourself up, though awkwardly and partly dangling halfway off the other side, attempting to readjust yourself, before finally sitting on the sattle.

It was high up there. To you and your little self, you thought you were a giant, a ruler of the world! Why would Riddle ever want to stop you from being this tall!? Was he jealous? You bet he would be if he saw you now!

“Y/N!” Speak of the Devil and he shall appear. “GET DOWN FROM THERE NOW!”

The burst of his voice and the fact he was racing towards you and the horse spooked the horse, making it get all fidgety and start to move around anxiously. Riddle didn’t notice until he got too close, realizing that the horse was now officially stress out and you were left clinging onto it as it ran off, Riddle whistling after it and calling for it.

You lost your grip on the horse’s mane and you were easily thrown off given how small you are, tumbling to the ground and kicking up dirt, your dorm uniform messed up and scratching yourself on stray rocks that were lying about.

Riddle wasn’t lying when he would say his heart dropped because his heart did stop and drop to his stomach when he saw you fall off and hit your head on the ground in the process.

“Y/N!” He called, his horse slowing to a halt when Silver ran up to intervene.

He crouched down to your side and held you in his arms, checking you over and feeling a little relieved when he didn’t see any blood, just a couple scrapes and bruises. But hitting your head would be worse than any blood.

“Are you alright!?” Riddle asked, trying to make you open your eyes and look at him, but you kept your eyes tightly closed, possibly from dirt getting in your eyes. “Y/N?”

“Are you two alright!?” Sebek came running over with his horse and looked to Silver who held Riddle’s horse and his own. “How about you put those two away, I’ll put my horse back in the stables later, Y/N needs medical assistance!”

You blinked your eyes open for a moment, rubbing the dirt that hurt your eyes and looked to Riddle. Riddle’s expressions was odd, especially since he hadn’t looked like this before, so fearful and concerned. He watched at you sniffled once, twice, and then you started bawling your eyes out, wailing loudly and wrapping your arms around his neck. You weren’t feeling any pain other than some stings, you just felt overwhelmed with the adrenaline and the sudden rush and how terrified Riddle looked.

“Y/N?” Riddle wrapped his arms around you, threading his fingers through your hair. He didn’t realize how tight his grip was around you.

“I-I’m sorry!” You cried, snot running down your nose and tears running down your dirt covered cheeks as you buried yourself in his shirt. “I’m sorry!”

If you had done this before his overblot and before he had a seriously reality check coming to him, he would’ve screamed his heart out at you and scolded you for hours after getting you to the nurse, but he couldn’t find it in himself to blame you. After all, you are just a child, practically a baby.

“It was not your fault!” He said grabbing your face. “I should have been more watchful of you. It was my fault.”

You continued you cry and press your face in his neck, wrapping your legs around his torso like a koala. Silver and Sebek tried to ask what they needed to do to help, but Riddle dismissed them both, prompting to carry you to the nurse to take a once over to make sure nothing was broken.

So that’s what Riddle did, he swallowed his pride and carried you all the way to the nurse. Who cares if other people are staring at him while walking down the halls!? He was gonna get you to the nurse!

In the end you were perfectly fine, just needed a bandaid or two and a seriously cleaning up. All the while you refused to let go of your koala grip the whole time, not even when you two got back to the dorm.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Riddle stared back at him and sighed, feeling grey hairs already starting to form. “

Trey stared at the sight slightly amused and very confused. You clinging to Riddle with a dirtied uniform and Riddle looking stressed than ever holding you just as tightly as you were holding him.

“So… What happened?” Trey asked.

Riddle sighed and could feel grey hairs starting to form. “Can you watch Y/N from now on whenever I go to club meetings?”

“…Yeah? Why…?”

“Just… Do it. Please.”

“Okay?”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It had be hours and you still haven’t let Riddle go. The only time you did, you did in order to get dressed and take a bath, then you went straight back to koala mode, feeling very clingy now towards him after his concern and your near “death” experience with a horse. Now, Riddle, didn’t mind the first few minutes of this koala holding/cuddling, but now it was starting to get a little silly. Anytime he tried to get you off, you started tearing up immediately, which made Riddle panic and let you back up in his arms, which now left him sitting on the couch with a little child clinging onto him and refusing to let go.

“Y/N I have to get up, can you please let go?”

“No!”

Riddle sighs. This will be going on for a while.

┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐

Leona left you usually to Ruggie most of the time, considering he sucks with children, but that usually fails since you come back around to him no matter where he is. He swears you’re like a leech rather than a star and considering he knows Jade and Floyd, it says something. But something about today makes him uneasy.

He was resting in his room, ready for a nap because he was exhausted of everyone around him, and curled up ready to sleep it away. But then as he settled, he realized how quiet it was aside from the usual chatter outside from his dorm members. That was normal. What wasn’t normal was the fact you were running into his room ready to either bother him, usually asking (demanding) to nap next to him, like you always do (which he allows you to do because he’s too tired to tell you no). But there wasn’t a single sound of your tiny self scrambling into his room nor Ruggie attempting to grab you from jumping on the grumpy sleepy lion, though Ruggie barely tried to stop you since he found it adorable. You were like a demanding sibling needing attention from their big brother. It reminded Ruggie of how he looks up to Leona. Leona didn’t understand it, but dealt with you reluctantly.

Now he was restless because you’ve officially ruined his napping routine. He growls and slinks out of the bed, practically stomping out of his room and finding yours easily, since it was closer to his and Ruggie’s. That’s when he heard Ruggie cooing over you and your soft crying. He entered the room, the door already cracked open, and sees you in your bed shivering and crying as Ruggie puts a cold rag over your forehead, trying to comfort you, although a little poorly since his encouraging words fell on deaf ears.

“I don’t wanna die…” You cried out. “It hurts!”

“I know, I know,” Ruggie sighs. “But don’t worry, this is perfectly normal! It’s just a flu. Your body is just fighting off a bad sickness, is all.”

“It hurts… Make it stop…” You sniffled, your nose all stuffed and fighting against wanting to throw off the blankets and keep them on, your body going from hot and cold in minutes.

“You’ll be alright after a few days, promise.” He said with a little smile, patting your head. Then he noticed the prince standing in the doorway.

“Oh, hey Leona, uh just gimme a sec, I gotta make them take this medicine.”

“No!” You protested, attempting to sit up but immediately laid back down when your head throbbed. “It tastes nasty!”

“Well, this is gonna help you get better faster so I’d suggest taking it!” Ruggie huffed, pouring the liquid medicine onto a tablespoon.

Leona felt himself shiver at the idea of the medicine. He’s had his fair share of drinking that liquid poison and he still could remember the taste on his tongue.

“What’s wrong with the brat?”

Ruggie huffs in frustration as he tries to put the spoon near your mouth, but you kept moving your face away. “They’re sick. I think their body now is starting to get use to the more human side of things, like sickness and whatnot.”

You then realized Leona was there and gave him a look, lower lip trembling as you stared at him, staring. “Leo…”

Sniffling again you reached out to him, grabby hands demanding him for a hug. He gave you a face, scrunching up his nose, and he shakes his head.

“You’re sick, no way in hell am I getting close to you.”

“Hey!” Ruggie tried to shove the spoon in your mouth since you’re cut off guard, but you shove your face under the blanket. He groans. “I’m the one dealing with them! What happens when I get sick, huh!?”

“That’ll be your problem.”

“Asshole.”

Ruggie wants to give up with the medicine, opting to just wait until later when you’re sleepy and unable to fuss and just make you drink it, but Leona has different methods. He grabbed the spoon and yanked the covers off, making you protest loudly.

“Hey. If you drink this, I’ll stay here with you. Someone’s gotta keep an eye on you and I can’t nap since I feel like you’re gonna smother me in my sleep all the time.”

Your eyes lit up and you grabbed the spoon and drank the medicine like it was nothing and the whole fight against it was for nothing. Ruggie was definitely pissed but decided not to show it, merely twitching his eye and his tail swishing in annoyance behind him.

But then he suddenly got chipper. “Hey! Since you’re gonna watch over them, you’re clearly gonna take care of them the whole time since their sick, right?”

“No, wait that’s not what I meant-“

“Thanks Leona!” He was already out the door. “Bye!!”

Leona growled under his breath but then looked at you. You were staring at him with a frown, small tears going down your cheeks and a hand grabbing at his large hand, pathetic pleading eyes looking back at him.

“You’re not leaving me, right?” Your voice rasped. “I don’t wanna be alone…”

Ahhhhhh shit. That hit him in the gut. He was frowning before but now it looks like he’s frowning but with a wince. He complains a lot about you, but he seriously cannot ever say no to you, usually. Something he learned when he was a kid is that if you weren’t in the spotlight, you’d never be in the spotlight at all. You were either met with dismissive glances or small smiles of pity and words of pretend, or just generally being met with judgment. You were just a little kid with nowhere to go and no family at all, with him left to care about you. He cares about Cheka, but then again Cheka was a reminder of something he could never have. Even though he’s given up on it a long time ago, it still leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. But then there was you, just a silly baby child who barely knew anything about the world and complaining about dying over a simple flu, crying and sniffling about it. No crown, no family, no nothing. Perhaps he can give you what he never got.

Leona sighed heavily and his ear twitched, practically shoving you to the side and flopping down beside you. You immediately latched onto him like the little leech you were, sniffling and whining about your head hurting and your eyes hurting too.

“Calm down and try sleeping.” He huffed, patting you awkwardly on the head.

It went quiet for a moment and he relaxed, shutting his eyes and yawning loudly while you kept yourself latched to his arm like a rat.

“Leo…?” Your voice came out quietly. He huffed through his nose and made a noise in acknowledgment.

“I read about family in stories,” you said. “And I’ve heard Ruggie talk about his siblings and I thought of you. Does that mean we’re a family?”

NO. NO. NO NO NO NO. What is this warm feeling inside his chest? This disgusting warm feeling that makes him feel happy and proud? Gross. Sickening… he wants to bash his head in the wall from how overwhelmed he is with this feeling inside this chest causing his heart to ache. He subconsciously rubs your back and sighs.

“Yeah, sure, whatever. Now go to sleep.”

Ignoring the bright smile going across your face, he shuts his eyes tightly and yawns again. You are quick to pass out, given how exhausted you are and the medicine kicking in. Perhaps it’s because your body hasn’t experienced the medicine nor a flu before, so the energy you have is quickly dwindling because of it. He’ll have to talk to that birdbrain Crowley and see if he can get you a doctor to get any shots. He can’t have you dying on him because of some flimsy illness in the potential future. Who knows how weak your new immune system is.

He’s just gonna ignore how brotherly he sounds.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“I told you so.”

“Shut the hell up Ruggie.”

“NO LEO DONT DIE!”

“I’m not dying, I just have the flu. The flu you gave me, need I remind you.”

“IM SORRY!!!”

“Oi! Stop crying all over me!”

┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐

Azul isn’t that good with children. That isn’t to say he doesn’t try. Jade and Floyd are usually untrusted by him to take care of you. Sure they have siblings of their own, but given how they are, there is no doubt that they’ll turn you into more of a menace than you already are, especially since you keep biting him with those grimy little teeth of yours.

Well, there is also the fact your enamored with your body. And that’s not bad, every child gets curious about how they look from their feet, nose, mouth, eyes. This didn’t exclude you. But unfortunately, you’re more questioning how your body functions. Now, he can’t answer most of your… weird questions…

Where does blood come from?

What does blood taste like?

What do my organs look like?

What do your organs look like.

…

He tries his best not to give you an answer to most of them, given how fucking weird they are. And he doesn’t blame you. In all honestly, you’re around Floyd, so he would be more surprised if you aren’t curious of how long the human body can go without air (which you did ask him about).

Creepy little gremlin child.

But it’s whatever. You’re a kid and one that hasn’t been in an actual body before. Again, your body is human, but it has very different functions from what he could tell.

Then, the day came where you got sick. He thought it wasn’t possible, but somehow it was after yesterday. You were messing around in the big tank again but refused to dry up properly. He tried to warn you;

“Y/N, you need to dry up. You’ll get sick.”

“No I won’t! I’ll be fine. I don’t need to worry about human illnesses.”

You ate those words when he found you curled up in your bed, sniffling and pouting and complaining. He was like a disappointed mom, a hand on his hip with a “I told you so” expression on his face.

“Zuzu,” you peaked at him from beneath your blanket, pleading eyes. “I think I’m dying.”

“Not dying. Just suffering the consequences of not listening to me.”

“You’re so mean!” You whined, sniffling and shivering into your thick blankets.

Jade entered the room with a knock on the door. He had a bowl of hot mushroom soup in hand, homemade and one of your favorite foods in Mostro Lounge, but the more you thought about eating it, the more your stomach did not want it.

Seeing your nose turn up and frown, Jade chuckled and sat beside you on the bed. “You must eat.” He said holding the spoon. “You’ll only start complaining about how your stomach hurts. If you don’t, I will force feed you.”

Sheesh that dangerous smile he was giving you sent shivers down your spine, making you pout more and your mind practically hissing in protest, but you give in and take the bowl and spoon.

“Awe poor starfishy…” Floyd had entered the room with a pout of his own collapsing at the foot of the bed. “Can’t you just spell it away, Azul?”

“Well…” Azul looked at your face as you slurped at your soup, but then beamed at him when you looked at him. He smirked at you. “No. I think you’ll do just find fighting it out. After all, your body must learn how to handle sicknesses like these.”

“You’re so mean ZuZu!” You cried. “I don’t wanna be sick anymore!”

“It’s your fault for not listening to me, Y/N.”

“I said I was sorry!!!”

Azul ushered Floyd and Jade out of the room, knowing that they’d probably scheming against him or making this even more difficult. As much as he loved his friends, he knows they can be a pain in the ass for him. Especially when it came to you, who’s an even more pain in the ass.

You finished your soup and left the soup bowl on the bedside table. You fully laid down and still had that pathetic look on your face as you looked at Azul. Azul couldn’t help but feel upset looking at you, a heavy feeling in his heart. Ah… Perhaps he was a bit too harsh. He sighs and takes his seat next to you, which you immediately latch onto him, which he awkwardly returned the side hug, but let you mostly leech onto his side.

“I would help you with a simple potion, but your body needs to get use to the more human side of things. This includes illness.” He explained as gently as he could for you to understand.

“But I don’t wanna!”

“Well you’re going to have to.”

You smothered yourself into his jacket, which he would have to wash later, but he sighs and pats your head.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be here for you the whole time, alright?”

When you looked up at him with those big ol’ eyes and smile, even with how puffy and your nose being all runny, he couldn’t help but feel his heart clench. He wants to throw you because of this overwhelming feeling, how dare you make him feel this way! (He’s gonna protect you to the day he dies, no, even after that, he’ll always protect you.)

“I love you zuzu! I’ll get better soon so we can swim!”

“That’s the reason you’re sick in the first place!”

…

“HEY DONT BITE ME!”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You had gotten better over the past few days, as he expected, but you’re up to your shenanigans again.

“Y/N! I TOLD YOU! NO SWIMMING SO SOON!!”

“Awww come on Azul!” Floyd was already in the tank and in his eel form. “The starfish is just fine now! It’s perfectly fine!”

You stared at Azul from up top near the tank and you two locked eyes.

“Y/N…” Azul put his hands on his hips, trying his best to look stern.

You continued to stare at him, inching closer to the water.

“Don’t you dare!”

…

You flopped into the water.

“Y/N!”

┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐

Kalim wholeheartedly believed that today was gonna be a good day. He woke up feeling refreshed and you were acting less of a gremlin today so Jamil was ALSO in a good mood!

You two were hand in hand as he dragged you about Night Raven. Kalim’s plan today was to bring you to Jamil’s basketball practice to cheer him on. Though Jamil never really like Kamil coming to his practice matches since, well, they were just practice and nothing special, he did cave in when Kamil pleaded that he wanted to show you various activities that people do at Night Raven, which included basketball, which you had no idea what it was.

So there you were sitting at the benches watching the small match between Floyd, Jamil, and Ace. You were lightly cheering on Jamil with what he believed was encouragement? It was mostly you copying Kamil, who mostly said “go Jamil!” and you’d repeat him with a cheer that wasn’t very animatic as Kamil’s was, monotoned sounding, but he knew you meant it, even if you didn’t know how to express it, which made him want to try even harder! Even if it was just practice.

“Are you watching, Y/N?” Kamil was smiling beside you as he watched you watching the practice. You nodded and matched his smile, in awe when Floyd snatched the ball from Ace and slammed it into the hoop yet again. Which made Ace complain but Floyd was enjoying messing with him.

“Jamil is so cool! Maybe he can teach you a bit of basketball if you’re interested! I can try convincing him.”

You weren’t all that interested in the game itself, mostly with the ball they were throwing around. Your tiny brain was going nuts over the orange ball they passed and dribbled on the floor, watching it bounce. You wanted it because it bounced! You can throw it at so many things and it’ll just bounce! How cool was that!? To you, it was genius.

Your bitty baby brain wanted that ball.

You’re gonna get that ball.

They stopped practice after a while, which you weren’t sure when, and Jamil called for a fifteen minute break. Jamil then approached the bleachers where you and Kamil were sat. Kamil smiled joyfully at the sweaty player.

“You were so cool Jamil! Im glad you let us watch you practice! You work so hard!! Also wasn’t Y/N a great cheerleader? Even though they didn’t sound very enthusiastic.” Kamil rambled to Jamil, who looked more and more annoyed since he was tired.

Jamil sighs. “Thanks you two, really. But Kamil, could you mind helping me bring out the cooler? I forgot it back at the locker room. Ace is being dramatic and Floyd is… Well, he’s Floyd, he doesn’t wanna bother.”

“Of course! Uh… Y/N do you mind waiting here for a bit? We’ll be back in no time! And there will be yummy snacks in the cooler too!”

“But there’s only enough for the players…”

“Then we’ll share!”

“I doubt Floyd will like that.”

You basically checked out of their conversation, only focused on the ball tucked in Jamil’s arms. He noticed and smiled at you, handing you the large ball. The surface was much harder than you expected, also bumpy! You were fascinated.

“Mind holding this for me until I get back?” You nodded hastily and your nose was touching the ball. Staring at it intently. Jamil was confused but let you do your thing, it’s basically how he gets around when you’re being weird, like usual.

When they left, you were left with mostly the other players in the gym. There weren’t a lot since they all mostly headed out to make use of their break time, which left you mostly alone. You stared at the ball. You threw the ball lightly in the air and caught it with ease. Up and down and up and down. You did this for a while until you started bouncing the ball on the bottom of the bleachers, catching it each time. This was amazing and you loved this ball. But you wanted to toss it and let it come back to you, like how Jamil does on the court. So you stand up and walk down the bleacher stairs and onto the court. The other players didn’t pay any attention to you, only giving you a once over before doing their own things. You looked up at the hoop above you. It was very tall from what you’ve seen, but up close it was like staring up at a giant! You remembered some of the moves Jamil did when throwing the ball, like jumping up and throwing it. So you… Tried to do that. But unfortunately your jump was barely an inch off the ground and you tossed the ball hard into the ring of the hoop, causing the ball to bounce off it and come right back to you

And into your face.

The sound of the ball smacking hard against your face rang out in the gym as your whole face burned with the sting, the force of impact making you fall back, your butt now hurting from the fall, but your face hurt even more, especially your nose.

“Y/N!”

Instantly Kamil was at your side with more tears in his eyes than you. You weren’t even sure how fast he ran. Jamil was following right behind him with him carrying the cooler. Apparently from how it looked, Kamil’s second senses went off halfway in the hall while carrying the cooler and promptly let it go and ran off.

“Oh my Sevens, Y/N, are you okay!?” Kamil was on the verge of sobbing as he held your face gently. “Y-Your nose!”

You’re in a daze when you realize the wet feeling running down your nose. You press your fingers under your nose and found blood. Surprisingly, you barley even realized it and were more focused on Jamil’s ball. You stood up, ignoring the fact that the world was spinning and you were seeing double, grabbed the ball and wiped whatever little blood was on it, and handed it over to Jamil before collapsing into Kamil’s chest.

“OH MY SEVEN THEIR DEAD!”

“THEY ARENT DEAD KAMIL STOP SHAKING THEM LIKE THAT!”

“WAHH Y/N!!” He was sobbing like a baby while you were sleeping peacefully trying to get rid of the massive headache.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You were banned from ever touching the basketballs ever again after that day, only ever using the soft ones and those made you bored very quickly because they weren’t the hard ones.

“Kamil I’ll be careful next time, can I please-“

“No! What if you slam it so hard into your face you hurt your brain or-or crack something?!”

“I don’t think that’s possible…” Jamil was on board with the whole “playing it safe” with the balls but Kamil was being a little dramatic.

“YOU NEVER KNOW!”

┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐

(I got more comforting with Vil than silly cause I love Vil)

Vil had sent you to the school to find Mr. Crewel to see if he had spare devil ginger root and other ingredients that he could use in potions he was creating for the class. They were for a homework project, but unfortunately, he didn’t have enough and the shop was closed due to Sam being out for the day. So he sent you to find Crewel. Sure, to others it would seem irresponsible, given how you were just a small baby with little thoughts behind those eyes, but Vil knows that you are a smart potato, even when others seem to doubt your ever learning intelligence. So you were proudly walking down the halls with determination in your eyes as you went down the remembered route to Crewel’s class. You were on a mission and you weren’t gonna stop until you got the ingredients Vil needed for his homework.

You turned up hallway and up the stairs where Crewel’s classroom would be down the hall, when suddenly a group of students from mixed dorms came running, possibly chasing each other or for some sort of reason and didn’t seem to notice you, barreling past you. One bumped into you, causing you to stumble backwards. You stumbled over your own two feet, falling backwards down the short flight of stairs, slamming down hard on your knee when your body twisted to the side and your legs unfortunately meeting the steps before you tumbled down the short flight of stairs and onto the floor.

You didn’t register that your knee was completely fucked at all, just blinking in shock when you lifted your upper body up and looked around. A couple of concerned students, a few of them Pomfoire, came to your aid. One of them almost fainting when they saw that your knee was sorta out of place. When you looked down and saw the oddly looking kneecap, you blinked at it…

And then started screaming.

Rook has a second set of scenes when it comes to you ever since you joined their dorm. He watched over you when Vil wasn’t around or he just watched over you in general. So when he heard the scream, he immediately somehow tracked you down within seconds, running to your aid. There he saw you on the ground with students trying to help you. He ran to your side.

“Dear étoile!” He noticed your knee and cooed lightly, as if trying to comfort a small rabbit, and gently lifted you up to carry you to the quick as he could.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Vil burst through the nurses office and ran to your bed where you laid. “Potato! What on earth happened!?”

You were a little teary eyed but mostly worn out because the nurse gave you medicine to numb the pain. Rook sighed.

“A couple of first years were rough housing in the hall and bumped into the poor starling and fell down the stairs. Do not worry, I have tracked them down and gave them a… thorough lecture before handing them off to the headmaster.” Rook grinned and patted your head

Vil huffed. He would have to ask who the students were for… personal reasons that you didn’t need to worry about.

“Vil,” you sniffled at him and your tiny hand grabbed his finger, making him look at you. “It hurts. Can’t you use your power to make it go away?”

He couldn’t deny that he could heal you with a minor potion, but then again, he doesn’t know how this could affect your body. It’s new for your human body to sustain injuries and you were a child. He grasped your tiny hand gently and tried to smile at you comfortingly.

“I cannot do that, potato. I’m not sure how your body could possible handle not being able to heal itself if I didn’t allow it. I’ll find something to numb the pain for you, do not worry your little head about it.”

He would hater check you out from the nurse and bring you back to the nurse and put you to bed. When injured, you needed to rest. He’d have to check you in with the nurse again later down the line to regularly keep track of your healing progress. But that could wait. You just needed to sleep.

He laid you down on the plush of your bed, putting a pillow underneath your knee to keep it comfortable and upright so it doesn’t curl at an angle that would hurt you. He stood up, about to leave, when you grasped the arm of his robe.

“Vi-Vi?” You gently called. He looked to you and his heart ached. Sometimes he does forget you are a child given your personality and how much you try and annoy him. “Can you stay with me? Please?”

Now his heart was hurting and in agony at how quiet your voice sounded, so drowsy from the medicine kicking in. Normally, he would try and convince you to not cling onto him, but you needed him more than ever. After all, you were just a baby.

He sighs and nods. “Of course potato.”

He moved besides you and let you cling onto his arm while you remained on your back, unable to really move because of your casted leg. He never really thought he’d find himself in this situation but he gently pats your head to lull you to sleep faster, which worked surprisingly well.

It made his heart clench even harder when you nuzzled yourself into him, a comforted smile on your face.

Yeah, he’s made up his mind, he’s gonna curse those students. No one hurts you. Ever.

┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐

Iida felt horrible. Really, he did, even though it wasn’t really his fault, he knows that too, but he can’t help but feel bad.

You were laying in bed, a bucket beside it, looking miserable as you sniffled and cried, trying to throw off your blanket, but Idia would gently pull it back up.

Just a day ago, you were fine, great in fact. You had scored a 89/100 in Mr. Trein’s class, one many thought you’d fail at since it was the same difficulty as the rest of the class and you were quite literally born maybe a few months ago, so you knew very little on the history of Twisted Wonderland, but you worked hard and scored a high eighty-nine and Idia and Ortho wanted to treat you to some good takeout. It was a new place to Idia so he’s never experienced the food before, but it was the most convenient and close to the school itself. When he picked it up and brought it over, the three of you spent the night in his room watching shows he was very interested in, which you enjoyed since Idia was excited about it the whole time and his excitement transferred to you. Plus you had yummy food with you!

But then during the night you felt horrible, like, really horrible. Your body was on fire, equivalent to how hot you felt while being a star, and sweating profusely, but you were shivering. It confused you to no end and overwhelmed you. You eventually had to throw up in the bathroom toilet, which you ran to, and then started crying because to you, you felt like your insides were trying to get outside! Which is something that they’re NOT suppose to do.

Idia found you in the bathroom on the floor crying because you were confused and hurting at the same time. Ortho had to help him because Idia was on the verge of crying himself because he was panicking!

Ortho, bless his heart, managed to calm both you and his brother down in the mists of your screaming with his intellect.

“Based on my scans, it appears that Y/N is suffering from a stomach bug!”

“THERES A BUG INSIDE ME!?”

“No, no! It’s just a virus!”

“AM I GONNA DIE!?”

“Based on your immune system, I’d say you have a 90% survival rate!”

“WAHHHH-“

“Ortho!”

Well… He helped a little! Idia had to bare with you clinging onto him as he tried to convince you that you weren’t dying. Now here you were, inside his room snuggled into his blankets because you refused to stay inside your room while like this. You stopped throwing up a while ago when Ortho gathered some basic stuff that your stomach could handle, plus medicine. Ortho was sat on the bed near you, Idia at his desk gaming on his computer. You started crying again because your head was hurting and your stomach ached. Ortho gently pat your head, brows furrowing in concern. Idia was already stressing and it could be seen in his gaming and how he was dying more than once in a row. His teammates were less than pleased, to say the least.

“Do not cry, Y/N! Big brother and I are here for you. Just keep drinking your water, you’ll get dehydrated if you continue crying!” Ortho attempted to comfort you but it was met with a scrunched up displeased look on your face.

Idia groaned and exited his game and decided to join you and Ortho. He wasn’t the best at comforting, but somehow you find comfort in having both him and Ortho around, plus it was the only way you’d get to sleep.

“Ortho is right, Y/N. You gotta sleep so you can get better.”

“But what if I die in my sleep? I won’t be able to see you or Orthie again!” Your frown was almost comical and Idia could laugh, but he sighed and sat on the bed, instantly you cling to him.

“You aren’t gonna die! You’re more dramatic than me and that’s saying something…” He knew he was gonna get sick because of you but he could worry about that later.

“Dida?”

“Still not my name but, yeah?”

“Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“You’re in my room! Not many places a hermit like me can go!” He would stay with you either way, but that’s okay.

“I’ll stay with you as well, Y/N!”

You smiled for the first time in two days and managed to stop crying. Idia laid down beside you, albeit stiffly, and Ortho happily plopped down beside you as well. The metal of his body was able to provide heat and coolness to keep his systems running smoothly, which means his body was cooling you off when your body was as hot as the sun itself. Or it just felt that way. But inside you, the warmth wasn’t uncomfortable, you felt happy.

“Adidas?”

“Wh- Why? I-“ he sighs, honestly he knows you’re doing this on purpose but it still surprises him. “Yeah?”

“Are we a family?”

Ah shit. Idia was panicking internally. He knew he was going down the found family route, but he didn’t realize how much it would hurt when it was said out loud! Truth be told, he didn’t believe he could do anything for you, that he wasn’t ready for this. Constantly, whenever he looked at Ortho before his Overblot, all he felt was regret, guilt, self pity. He’s managed since then, especially since you helped him out, you gave him hope and a bit of confidence in himself. On top of that, seeing you with Ortho made him proud. Like he was a big brother of two little siblings.

Now he wants to scream into the pillow because of your question.

“I believe we are, Y/N!” Ortho piped up. “Big brother Idia always takes care of you like he does with me! And he’s very caring over you and likes to teach you things! That’s what family does, right big brother?”

Idia was currently trying to reboot.

“I- Uh…. Yeah? Um. Yeah. Yeah I guess we’re a family…”

“Yay! Y/N is my little sibling!”

“But I wanna be the big sibling.”

“You said that you were born only a few months ago when you arrived here at Night Raven! Therefore I am older than you!”

“Idia tell him that it’s my turn to be the big sibling!”

“Just go to sleep Y/N.”

“I will throw your figurines.”

Now he’s starting to regret considering talking to his family about adopting you! You’re a monster in disguise! (He’ll still talk his parents into considering.)

┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐

Lilia can’t cook. This is a fact and he is actually banned from the kitchen. So when Silver saw Lilia in the kitchen, he knew the day was gonna be filled with bad luck. And he was right.

You were minding your own business watching the others practice on their brooms for the next game, especially with how Malleus balanced himself on the broomstick with ease and did seemingly easy tricks on it. And you wanted to do it yourself! So when the others weren’t looking you grabbed a spare broom and quickly levitated in the air with you attempting to balance yourself on it.

“Y/N, GET DOWN FROM THERE!” Sebek yelled from the ground after returning from his water break.

The sound of his voice startled you from your brief daydream while on the broom. You jumped and lost your balance on the broom, flipping onto one side and losing your grip, your crossed legs unraveling as you slid off, but the underside of your left leg caught the broom on your way down, which caused you to pull it painfully. As you tumbled you didn’t even scream while you internally panicked. Then, before you hit the ground, Malleus swooped in quickly on his broom, snatching you just before you hit the ground, losing his own balance on his broom and onto the ground. He wasn’t injured as bad as you would be since he was already riding low to catch you. His heart was hammering inside his chest as he held you tightly, shuttering quietly as he tried to calm himself.

“Y/N?” Malleus didn’t realize how shaky his voice was until he spoke. “Are you alright?”

You blinked at him and then looked down at your leg. It felt sore at the thigh and throbbed painfully. You didn’t understand what was wrong and decided to start crying. Malleus sat up with you in his lap and he was staring at you with a confused look on his face. Lilia, Sebek and Silver all came rushing over.

“WAKA-SAMA! ARE YOU ALRIGHT!?”

“I think you should be more concerned at the screaming child, Sebek.”

Lilia, who said nothing, came to your aid immediately with his fatherly instinct kicking into overdrive.

“Y/N, starlight, where does it hurt?” He asked, grabbing you from Malleus and lifting you up.

You could only sniffle and point to your thigh. He understood and cooed lightly at you. Malleus stood up and stepped forward to try and bring you back in his arms.

“Malleus?”

“I want to bring Y/N to bed. I can watch over them.” Malleus spoke, his arms out to grab you, which you looked ready to jump out of Lilia’s arms and into the arms of the dragon fae. Lilia was a bit worried about you, but figured you’d want to be with Malleus more than anything after what happened. He smiled gently and handed you off to Malleus, which you climbed to him sniffling and whimper as your leg throbbed. It wasn’t too bad as it would’ve been, but you definitely pulled something. Badly.

“YOURE SO GENEROUS WAKA-SAMA! ALL SHOULD TAKE INSPIRATION!”

“That’s all you’re seriously focused on Sebek?”

“…That’s not true, you know I am worried as well…”

Malleus, in a blink, brought you to your room and laid you in the bed, which was soft and top quality, only the best for you.

You sniffled again when you were set down in the bed by Malleus, the blankets pulled over your body. He didn’t mind that you were dirty, he just wanted to get you to bed immediately to rest.

“Mal-Mal…” You sniffled a little. “It hurts.”

“I understand, beastie.” Malleus sat down beside you and ran his fingers through your hair. “Hopefully it will be better in the morning. If not, I shall carry you.”

“Beckie won’t like that.”

“Beckie will have to understand.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

True to his word, he carried you after you said it hurt even more today than it did yesterday. Lilia I as most please seeing Malleus carry you. It was amusing to see him carry you around since you were just a little baby (or at least he liked to believe you are.)

“Waka-sama, I don’t mean to question you, but do you believe it’s a good idea to carry Y/N around NCR?” Sebek had asked the morning before going to classes. “We can’t have you ruining your reputation!”

“Y/N will not ruin my reputation, Y/N is injured, so I shall carry them all throughout classes.”

“Be careful, Malleus, some might see you as soft.” Lilia grinned a little while fixing your uniform collar and tie.

“I do not care nor mind, Y/N matters more.” Ah, the priorities of a dragon at its finest.

“Whatever you say, lord Malleus.” Silver yawns as he straightened his tie.

Malleus looked down at you. You hadn’t even woken up after he picked you up once you finished dressing yourself, albeit messily. He’d wake you up, later of course, but it was nice seeing you rest and not in pain and talking about your hurting leg.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“…”

“Have something to say, Kingscholar?”

“I dunno, I’m still thinking this is a dream. A really weird one.”

Leona was currently watching you sit on the future fae kings lap eating mango slices from a bowl… it had to be a fever dream…

#x reader #twisted wonderland malleus #twisted wonderland azul #twisted wonderland riddle #twisted wonderland vil #twisted wonderland leona #twisted wonderland x you #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland kamil #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader platonic #fanfic

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twstwonderlandstuff · 2 years

Note

This has been all in my mind all day..

May I request us protecting the Dorm Leaders from danger? Like, Malleus with his enemies or something- Like ??? 👀

Strong MC Supremacy 💪

strong mc supremacy! unfortunately, I cannot write for l the dorm leaders, as I have stated in my rules.

so, it will be riddle, azul, kalim and malleus.

requests are open!

pleáse remember to read my rules next time, thank you.

gn reader

tw: use of pet names (rose, ocho, sunshine, treasure), ace slander (for having a flat ass), attempt at kidnapping, implied violence

mentions: reader has a background in martial arts, and is built (strong) [I cannot believe I made that typo]

🍉 riddle rosehearts 🍉

it was a practical joke from one of riddle's underclassmen (not ace/deuce). riddle might have lessened the strictness of a lot of the heartslabyul rules, but it doesn't mean that there aren't some people out there that still hold grudges against him.

during one of the birthday parties, right as riddle's attention was on the hedgehogs, the student made a move. with a swift hand, he easily wove a string of whispered words under his breath that sent riddle flying from his chair.

riddle gasped as he felt the force throw him out and up into the air, and as he saw the grass beneath get close, he could only close his eyes, with no time to react when...

"riddle! are you okay, rose?" instead of the ground, he was met by your soft embrace and a worried look in your eyes. "does it hurt?"

and for a moment everything faded away into the background, and all riddle saw was rose petals wafting off you in pleasant waves, along with romantic music in the background. it was just you.. and him.

that is, until ace started cooing about how cute he was and he suave you were being. "ooh, prefect's lifting the dorm head up, bridal style~ how cute~~~"

then riddle snaps.

(p.s.: he buries himself in his blanket that night, worrying about the perplexingly wonderful vision he had of you for that minute)..

🍉 azul ashengrotto 🍉

azul grits his teeth as he winces at vargas, who had just finished telling him off about his flying. well, excuse him, azul thinks that this is excellent progress, especially to someone who's only started learning to walk a year ago! (jamil will happily disagree.)

of course, this stubborn dorm leader wouldn't even think of asking for help, unless there's a deal involved, so when you arrive to the scene, tasked with the goal of helping azul, it becomes quite difficult.

"oh come on, ocho." you grumble as you watch azul fly a few feet off the ground for the umpteenth time. "let me help."

"and how can I make sure I'm not investing in something that procures a loss?" he asks back. "now shush, I'm trying to concentrate." so stubborn, seriously. you hold the urge to (affectionally) roll your eyes.

"fine, oh my seven. ...oh, I am so dearly desperate for an exchange of woes." you begin with a tone as flat as ace's ass. "please, mr azul, give me a contract."

"that's better." azul gives you a business smile. "what would you like? name your price."

"how about..." you eyes him mischievously. "a show?"

"a... show?" by now, azul's concentration is off his broom and on you, staring curiously at your preposition.

"mhm. in exchange of me helping you- oof!" but alas, he falls off, but it's a good thing you're there to catch him, pulling him close against your body as you, too, fall onto the grass.

"you okay, ocho? man, 's a good thing that wasn't too tall." you brush the stray hair off his forehead. "but, I gotta say..."

"doesn't this make a pretty good show?"

picture azul sitting on top of you, against your stomach as his body heaves with effort, hair sticking against his skin and your impish grin staring at him from below.

you can almost hear the comical sound of his glasses breaking as he realizes his position, quickly scrambling to get his bearings together.

aww, poor thing~ but he does make a good show, doesn't he?

🍉 kalim al-asim 🍉

kalim's told you, with full honestly, about his past experiences with kidnappings. although he doesn't seem bothered by it, deep down, you're pretty damn sure trauma like that doesn't go away.

so when you visit his home town, land of the hot sands, you're on your guard, even if kalim tells you to relax.

"I'm not that easy to fool anymore, you know? just calm down, prefect, I'll be fine!" even if he says it casually, it all but eggs you to protect him.

...which is how it lead to you sleeping on his bed. for protection sake's, even if jamil raised an eyebrow at your reason. shh, what jamil doesn't know won't hurt him, but... it's also partially because kalim's cute. … jamil probably knows, though.

kalim's fast asleep, lightly snoring beside you as you run your hands softly through his white hair. how cute.

unfortunately, the moment's ruined when a number of menacing people appear in the room, clearly looking for a hostage.

fortunately, there's you, and you swiftly woop all their asses silently, where the only sounds are the defeated groans of kalim's possible captures. with the security guards alerted and the goons taken away, you lie back besides kalim, who's still peacefully snoozing away.

"good night, sunshine." with a last affectionate ruffle to his hair, you fall fast asleep.

when kalim hears of your heroic feat, he rushes to thank you, offering his wealth as compensation for your kindness.

"kalim, hey- hey." you mumble, looking at kalim's confused face. "look, I don't want this. seriously. I'm just glad I was there at the right time, or it things could've gone worse. I don't want that happening to you, okay? you're precious, got that?"

"but you helped me, so I should at least-!"

"then give me some of your fun." you shoulder kalim with a friendly smile. "now that that's behind us, won't you show me your country and how things are here, hmm? we haven't a lot of time, right~"

the shine in kalim's eyes appears back, and he quickly loops his arm around yours. "right! you know, I better get started right away! let's go get you dressed up first! there really is a lot for you to explore, and I'll make sure you don't miss anything!"

🍉 malleus draconia 🍉

lord malleus is one of the strongest wizards in twisted wonderland- nay, the strongest. what could a mere human do in his presence? is what sebek angrily barks when you tell him you could protect malleus.

even malleus is amused at your suggestion, and even plays along. "i'll be overjoyed to receive your help, child of man."

days past since that conversation and now, you hold an invitation straight from malleus himself who invites you to his humble abode during vacation. you happily accept- beats running errands for crowley, right?

yeah, too bad it came at an expense of enemies waiting to seize the crown to briar valley. malleus can damn well take care of himself, but with so many things coming at him, there's bound to be a blind spot.

"MALLEUS!" he whips his head around, just in time to see you kick one of his enemies into fatal injury. "be careful! watch for your back!"

well, color him impressed- you can protect him, can't you? even sebek is impressed- not like he'll ever tell you, but eh.

like kalim, he doesn't know what to offer you other than his riches, but again, you refuse it.

"I want to be paid back with time, malleus."

"well..." malleus frowns. "time warping as quite the difficult spell-"

"oh my- I mean with you, treasure." you snort. "I want to spend time with you, I didn't mean warping time."

malleus is stunned to say the least. time, with... him? you want... his company? he asks several times if you're sure and yes, you are positively sure about your choice. he'll laugh, both in amusement and joy.

"very well. my time is now yours, child of man."

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thedvilsinthedetails · 2 months

Text

rosekiller band au microfic pt4

heyyy guys pt4 is hereeeee

ok so this one is a bit shorter bc I’m a bit tired today but I rlly wanted to write it anyway so I did lol but it’s not been edited like at all so there may be typos pls point them out if u spot them so I can fix them tyyyy

yayyyyy I love this one

Ok ppl who wanted to be tagged/wanted the next part: @good-oldfashioned-lover-girl @picklerab23 @nikholascrow @always-reading @weirdtinkerbellversion @lady-stardust-incarnate @depressedtheatrekiddo @y0url0verb0y @idk-what-to-put-here-123 @lulublack90 (as always pls lmk if u want to be added to the taglist/don’t want to be tagged x)

link to part one

link to prev part

(EDIT: link to next part)

***

Barty’s stomach flipped as Evan looked at him, stunned and stunning. Then the moment was broken and Evan turned his head to look at Dorcas who seemed to be fighting back a laugh. This was stupid fuck this was stupid.

“Did you know about this?”

Evan asked Dorcas who shook her head.

“First time I’ve heard about it.”

Stupid, STUPID. You’re so stupid Barty why would you go and say that. You should have said no when Marls suggested it, should have said no straight away.

“It’s um- to make a statement. Kiss on the stage to piss of Riddle but it’s fine you don’t have to-“

“It’s a good idea.”

Evan said quickly.

“Oh, yeah it was Marls’. Wouldn’t want to um…steal the credit.”

Wouldn’t want you to think that the idea of kissing you plays on repeat in my mind every second I’m awake.

“Yeah. I um- I want to. I think it would be good-“

Brilliant actually it would be fucking brilliant Rosier.

Barty amended Evan’s statement.

“To make a big statement.”

“Yeah.”

Yeah. Yeah what other reason would there be Barty? What were you hoping for? Pathetic isn’t it. The way you would gladly lick the crumbs left on his plate if he asked you to. He doesn’t want to kiss you, he wants to piss of homophobes. Don’t forget that.

It was in fact too late for Barty to not forget that because all that was ringing in his ears was ‘I want to. I want to.’ Because honestly Barty was going to kiss Evan. Maybe for the only time ever in his life. But he was going to. He’d never even thought it a possibility before.

•••

I figured out that this modern world is turning the wrong way round

There’s something about the way our bedsheets turn religion upside down

So we just have sex to solve all our problems

Let’s do it again

It had been Pandora’s idea for the kiss to happen during ‘cotton candy’ and everyone had immediately agreed. It was a stroke of genius really. Barty had originally thought it should take place in a love song, but that wasn’t what this kiss was about. This kiss was about the freedom, the liberation everyone deserved to be who they were, to test their limits and experiment and not be judged for being queer or straight or promiscuous or prudish. Cotton candy was just that. A call for sexual liberation, a call to stop demonising young people for living their lives.

And I wanna get stuck between your teeth like cotton candy

So you remember me darlin’

Barty turned his head to look at Evan. Their microphones were too far apart on separate sides of the stage, everyone hated it. He felt uncomfortable so far from Evan, they just performed better when they were up close together. The crowd had actually been pretty annoyed when they saw it at first. Still when he looked he saw Evan staring back at him. He cocked his head sideways, a silent, last minute ‘are you ready?’ Evan nodded.

Im losing myself in you

In you

I know

Evan stopped playing the guitar and let it just hang around his neck as he took the microphone out of the stand. Barty watched him before taking his own mic out the stand too.

I’m losing myself in you

In you

I know

They turned to face each other and Barty began to walk.

Leave me in the morning, although

I don’t wanna be on my own

They met somewhere in the middle of the stage and suddenly the scream of the crowd dulled and the music stopped and for a moment there was nothing except Evan. Evan Evan Evan. His eyes staring straight into Barty’s. The hushed sound of their soft harmonies. The warmth of his breath dusting Barty’s face as they pressed their foreheads together.

I’m losing myself in you

In you

I know.

And they kissed. The crowd screamed. And suddenly the world was filled with colour even though Barty had his eyes screwed shut. Kissing Evan was like…fuck Barty was no wordsmith, Regulus and Pandora wrote their songs. But kissing Evan was everything. He tasted sweet and minty like the gum he’d chewed right before the show. His hand was warm and calloused and currently threaded through the hair at the base of Barty’s neck, tilting his head up just so.

The instrumental was over, they’d missed their cue. Barty didn’t care. They kept on kissing till the song faded to a close and even then kept going till the clap of the crowd died down. They softly broke away but Barty couldn’t hide the grin that broke onto his face. Evan just grinned right back.

***

AHHH YAY OK I LOVE THIS SONG CAN I JUST START BY SAYING THAT

Watch the music video for this song (cotton candy by YUNGBLUD)

LOOK AT THE SKIRT HE WEARS AND TELL ME BARTY WOULDNT WEAR THAT

Also what do we thinkkkkk they finally kissed!!!!!!

Ayyyyyy

ok stay tuned for the FIFTH and FINAL part (probs gonna be released tmrw hehe)

Also I’m probably gonna put this on ao3 btw, not gonna change it bc I don’t have the patience to properly lengthen it (at least rn, ig u never rlly know) but it’s just like if ppl want to bookmark it or reread or whatever it’ll probs be easier

ANYWAY LMK WHAT U THOUGHT

😘BYEEEEE

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cherubispunk · 3 days

Text

NEPHILIM: THE FALLEN - Jackson-era!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: fallen or damned? who's to tell when it's joel miller?

a note from Lucy: DONT HATE ME I KNOW ITS BEEN A LONG TIME!! Not entirely happy with this but it's been sitting in my docs for months now and i had to get it out there to give me some peace of mind so please be aware it may well be riddle with grammatical mistakes and typos galore. as always like, comment and reblog to save a sinners sanity!

playlist | moodboard + poem

wc: 2755

Warnings: 18+ MDNI DARK CONTENT! Jackson era!post outbreak!Joel, no use of y/n, reader is referred to as ‘Bambi’, verbally constipated Joel Miller, brief gore descriptions, heavy religious imagery and references to the bible, biblical lore, yearning, idiots in love, angst angst angst!!!!!!, bombastic age gap!!! yahhhhh! (reader is in her 20’s/ Joel is in his late 50’s), smut, oral sex (m! receiving), rough oral sex, possessive!joel, dom!joel/sub!reader dynamic, you know the drill with my writing, there’s probably some form of cannibalism as a metaphor, or brutal violence as a metaphor, religious imagery as a metaphor, etc. (aka, fancy word vomit) - Lucy crying over a bloody google doc :)

series masterlist | m.list

Ephesians 2:3 Among them we too all formerly lived in the lusts of our flesh, indulging the desires of the flesh and of the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, even as the rest.

The sky was bruised. It was like God– or whatever resided up there– knew. The grey clouds, and the garish yellow of the setting sun, and the deep blue that ebbed into purple…they all knew. Your heart ached too. Bruised. It seemed to crack a little more each day. What started as nothing more than a hairline fracture had split into a gaping, weeping slice. Why? Because Joel was always quiet. For such a large man he had a ghostly habit of creeping into a room without notice. Creeping into your heart too through your hollow ribs. You could feel him behind you now though. His breath thick on the nape of your neck and it cooled the thin sheen of sweat on your skin. Soothed your burning flesh while saving it from the inferno. The tension became bearable. These little spaces of empty matter between all else. That slight awkwardness about his usual stoic yet confident demeanour…it was endearing now.

You were easing into the silence, content with watching the bruise darken from purple to midnight blue. The sky would turn on its bright little stars, and the moon would slice through sapphire as the early evening aged. The sun was going to rest now, the greying moon taking its post to watch over the town. You should follow the sun’s direction. Close your eyes so as to not have to witness his all too soon departure.

His fingers, so gentle, so strong, gently traced the curve and divot of your hip under the covers. It was strange to think just moments prior they had been inside you. Making you feel boneless in bed.

“Bambi?” He asked, tentative and uncharacteristically uncertain. He loathed it; the change in him.

“Mhm?” You hummed lazily, your hands tucked under the pillow to keep them warm, knees curled up to your chest. But no answer nor following question came. You knew what it was. He was cramming something back down his throat before he had the chance to say it for fear of being out of line. One day it shall choke him blue. He was strung so tightly. Tension in his shoulders that made them rise uncomfortably. And you noticed this when you turned to face him. Neither of you spoke for a moment, as if you were fooling yourself into believing he might continue. Your heart cracked a little more when he turned to face the wall,

“Never mind. It’s nothin’.” He had no reason to be weary of you. However in the past few weeks, coming up to a month, there was subtle, almost imperceptible unease that lingered. And festered. Palpable. Tangible. You could feel it when you reached out to touch his skin. So warm and gorgeous. Golden like ichor in this setting sunlight. You dared to press your lips to the wing of a shoulder blade, skin mangled with scar tissue where you liked to imagine wings once resided, and felt him flinch under your featherlight kiss. “Don’t, Bambi.”

“Joel-“

“I said: No.” His voice was firm, and didn’t give much leeway for convincing. “It’s not somethin’ you know how to fix.” But you were stubborn now. You’d found your feet. You stood your ground more, imitated behaviour. Before he could turn away again you reached to right him, set him flat on his back upon the mattress and splay your hand over his soft stomach under the covers. His throat tightened when your hand ventured timidly south. Then his breath tangled in his throat when it wrapped loosely around his half hard cock. Gently stroking it until it stood to attention in your palm. “Let me help…the way I know how.” You whispered into his ear, running your tongue under his earlobe to bring it between your teeth. Voice like honey, so sweet, and smooth, and slow pouring enough to get stuck in. Jesus Fucking Christ, he hated himself for even entertaining the idea of letting you do this for him. For being the one to help you find your feet. For being the man who tarnished innocence. It seemed all he did these days was ruin what little good there was left in the world. He’d taken an entire inkpot to a pristine sheet of paper, splattered black all over it without a care in the world until now. He felt like the space between you was stygian and reeked of his own sin. It simmered and spat and writhed and any moment now I would boil over the second you came to terms with the fact you were too good for him.

His nostrils flared with the thought but with a twist of your wrist he melted. Because at the base of it all, the very depth of his humanity, he was a selfish, selfish man. You watched a swallow pass down the thick column of his throat and rested your head on his shoulder while your hand dragged up his thick, full shaft, thumb smearing a bead of precome over the delicate flushed skin of its head. Joel watched the ceiling and wallowed in pathetic self pity as you kissed your way down his navel, lips moving in a mumbling of words he couldn't quite hear. He let out a breathy moan when you wrapped your lips around the tip, pressing your tongue flat to the underside to let the taste seep onto your tongue. He then closed his eyes trying to imagine anyone other than you between his legs. Another mouth. Another tongue. Someone else's voice.

It was no use because it seemed your eyes, the shade, the shape, were printed to the back of his lids. He gave up. He was too old to try to partake in sisyphean tasks.

Joel sat up and you moved between his legs as he threw the covers off to watch you. His back to the headboard, your warm mouth inviting him deeper, he hesitated to press a hand to the crown of your head, but when you pulled off to lick a flat tongued strip from base to tip, he found himself taking a fist of your hair and righting you over the head completely, pushing down so he slipped into your mouth. Muscle memory had the twitch of a smirk forming at the corner of his lips. The sight of you was enough to have his hips begging to buck, chasing the back of your throat, attempting to find that reaction again.

What you couldn't take of him you wrapped loosely in one hand and the other cupped his balls, adding the slightest pressure that had a dirty cuss passing his chapped lips. Deep inhales billowed in his nose, nostrils flared slightly as he dragged your open, salivating mouth up and down on his length. What he would never understand is how much you hungered for this every time. There was a pain in wanting him like no other, and a reward this great sowed the seed of pleading. You didn’t mind yearning for him because, to you, being hungry was quite a satisfying feeling. It feels nice to want something. To yearn. To have a purpose. You imagined he felt quite the same with the way he could hardly keep his hands from your cunt or your mouth when you passed his front door’s threshold.

“Look at me, Bambi.” He grunted, and your eyes fluttered slightly before the hue of them locked on his through your tear clumped lashes. “I’d like this mouth a whole lot more if it didn’t say such pretty things to me.” He almost lamented, and you felt a tug at your heartstrings. “Makin’ a man hope again.”

Joel sighed, eyes closing for the briefest second. His large hand was still pushing your head with the gentlest of force back down, then his fingers gripped at your hair, dragging you again so the warm, silken touch of your lips and tongue made the fire in his belly start to burn. It was aching, and deep rooted, and had a slow simmer to it. One he begged to hurry along. Joel wanted nothing more than his release so he could set you free again. Set the bird free of its cage. So he threw caution to the wind, and soon you felt the tip of his thick cock reach the back of your mouth again, your throat constricting. “Why won’t you hate me, huh Bambi? What did I do to deserve this?” He asked. If you knew no better you’d have thought his tone implied he hated it. His teeth gritted, words seethed between them. He spat it out in a way that made him seem unworthy of your attention— or the very taste of the thought disgusted him and made his stomach pull up in a wretch. Joel bit down so violently on nothing he swore his molars might turn to dust and clag in spit with the way he was salivating over the sight of you; Puffy lips, bloodshot watering eyes, messy hair. Bent over him and sucking on his cock like it was your only goddamned purpose in life.

You wanted to reply, splutter out the words, but he silenced you. The tip of his cock brushing the back of your throat, and causing your stomach to recoil, tensing as you gagged. Retching slightly as he grimaced at the sound. “You know I can’t love y–” he stopped mid sentence as the ache bloomed into a deep burn. You were oh so grateful because it meant you wouldn’t have to hear what you yearned not to. What you buried deep beneath your stomach and above your diaphragm— that slow, blooming ache. The feeling would never see the light of day. You’d rather die than come to terms with the fact that Joel would not be yours. He belonged to the world. The mass of nature that befell you. That which kept you human and incompetent. He was large, untamable, and oh so delectable in all ways other than matters of love. Joel Miller could not love you.

“Fuck- gonna come, Bambi.” He choked out, head falling back. You looked up at the sight of him through your lashes, lips parted, his brows creased gently in the space between them. Just as you yearned for him to love you, you yearned to be destroyed by him. Coated in him, broken down to pieces by him. Joel Miller could quite literally break you in half, then half again, and again— to the point where nothing was discernible— and you'd get on your knees to thank him for it all. Maybe loving him and being destroyed by him were two in the same?

In the months you’d known him you’d grown to learn that this was as close to a purpose as you’d get. The world robbed you of one, so you searched for it. Selfish enough to keep digging to find one. Only it had no purpose. It has a pattern now, and patterns trick and deceive people into believing in divine intervention. Joel was your divine right. Your purpose. That was what you believed. What you thought about each night. What you thought about now as you took his cock down to the base, the head of him brushing the back of your throat and folds soaked– drenched in the essence of your own arousal. All of which was emphasised by the ache you felt between your thighs that ebbed a little deeper with wanting. A ghost of the pleasure you felt when he was inside you. You entertained it with two fingers slipping between your thighs, teasing your clit. “God— Bambi…” He groaned, eyes rolling back in his head as he let go. Hot ropes of his release flooding your mouth with their heady, salty taste.

You pulled off his shaft, now wet and slick in your own saliva, swallowing a mouthful of his release. His eyes never left you, honing in on the ripple of your delicate throat as you swallowed his come down. Joel couldn't help but hook a thumb into your mouth to unhinge your jaw— to see if anything was left. Nothing was. There never was. Like him, you were too selfish to leave anything.

He should have known better. You never disappoint. “Bambi, you’re too damn good for me.” he panted, skin sweat slick and flushed.

“I promise I'm not.” you whispered to the skin of his lips before he wrapped a large, steadying hand around your arm and pulled you up to his chest. His face met yours and when you looked into those hickory eyes you could have melted on the spot; For the hue of them was nothing like you'd ever seen before, and could command nations to their knees. And if not nations then it could certainly do so to you. “I’m just as damaged as you.`’

The words had his gut in knots because they were akin to holding up a mirror to his visage. And holding his head in place. Holding it still so he was forced to look himself in the eyes and reflect. Reflecting on the monster he’d become. The monster he would always be.

“I’m not asking you to love me, Joel.” You spoke, your voice quiet, slight and timid. Uncertain of his reaction. The way your eyes met his was proof of that. Wide like a foal, wide enough to register the unjust curl of a lip. “ I’m just asking you to stay…”

The words had been burning the tip of your tongue red raw. Each night as he lay beside you, the same questions— words made up of nothing but consonants that had a profound effect on you– would hardly let you rest in his arms. They tortured you instead; Mocked you. It was the equivalent of hanging. You could feel the ghost of a noose around your neck. It might as well have been His hands. It was as rough as them after all.

What is wrong with you? What is so repulsive about you that warrants his departure? Was it the curve of your hips– their dips? Or even the bump on your nose– how dare it not have the perfect influxing curve! The slant of your eyes? The jagged stretch marks on the inside of your thighs! Not only had they the nerve to exist in their silver, shining mockery, posing as a diamond, but they had the fucking nerve to sit where others could see. Fuck them entirely and their very existance. Were those very thighs plump enough? Too plump? Why was there no gap between? Was there too much of a sag to your breasts? The colour of your nipples– why did they have to be that colour? Were the lines on your forehead marring your skin? What on you– about you– detested him? Because if you knew you'd cut it off. You'd change it. You take a knife to your nose and cut it off even if it was just to spite your own face. Now, laying here with him, you wish to be anyone but yourself. Yourself was the woman that disgusted you. It would always be the woman that disgusted you if he didn’t fall in love.

“That's jus’ the thing, Bambi.” He sighed, his mouth moving in a slow hushed mumble. His wind chapped, weathered lips grazed the shell of your ear, “I already do.” Followed by silence, and then: “An’ I ain’t no good at it, I’m afraid.”

That was the problem. Joel thought it had to be a life lived in an entirety of carolling laughter for you. A warm, joyous time. The kind of peace the world seldom granted anyone anymore. Not bound to him by the twine of his selfish nature. In the wrong man’s bed. If the world had told him anything before it was that he deserved to be alone. First Sarah. Then Tess. Ellie too. It was only a matter of time before you left too. He had no clue that what you wanted was just to be held. To be kept. He didn’t have to carve out a hole in himself to accommodate you. Nor give an arm or a limb. He just had to stay. Exactly where he was now. Exactly as he is. But selfish men believe in selfish things. And Joel Miller was a selfish man.

Maybe he wasn't. Humans are, after all, selfish creatures. If we are innately selfish does that make us selfish, or just human. Regardless– Joel was selfish. Yes. But more importantly: He was the damned, the scrutinised, the beggar. All of the above.

Joel Miller was, and forever will be, the fallen.

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oneatlatime · 7 months

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I’m curious as to how your blog works. In my mind it goes like this: you watch an episode, write down notes as you’re watching, go back to the episode to make screenshots, write down the episode summary/commentary, post it on tumblr, watch the next episode and repeat. But I wonder, do you actually only watch an episode once or do you go through multiple watches (full or partial)? And do you actually not watch the next episode until you’re completely done with the previous one? Regardless of your methods, it’s so much work and I really respect your self-control (I probably would have ended up binging the show.)

I watch, for the first time, with split screen between the show and where I type notes. With my hand hovering over the pause button like a coked out Jeopardy contestant, I pounce on places I want to make a comment, take a screenshot, and note down the time stamp and a vaguely point form, typo-riddled summary of what I want to say. Then it's back to watching. This doesn't quite work in particularly enthralling scenes, where I inevitably end up too involved in the show to remember to pause, in which case I rewind to my last timestamp and rewatch. Same applies if I can't catch a piece of dialogue. For example, in the scene in The Blind Bandit where Toph explains her earthbending, I watched that three or four times through before progressing on to the next scene because I was having difficulty understanding Toph's lines. Then after I've finished watching, I go through and translate my word vomit into something legible, clean up the screenshots if needed, throw in a 'keep reading' break and some tags, and then it's good to go. I watch, take notes, edit, and post all in one session, based on only one watch through (albeit with some scenes repeated if necessary).

This is what I've done for all episodes so far, except The Storm. I lost count of how many times during The Storm I forgot that I was supposed to be taking notes. I was far too sucked in. And then the post autosave function malfunctioned and I hit the wrong button and the whole thing disappeared. Luckily I had an archived version of the text on my hard drive, but I did have to go through and retake the screenshots, so I watched that episode twice through while blogging about it. I've also watched it once since, just for entertainment.

I figure the choppiness this approach inevitably introduces into the viewing experience mimics what it actually would have been like to view these episodes the first time they aired, since (to my knowledge) Nickelodeon had and still has commercial breaks.

And yes! I am resisting the urge to watch ahead. I watch one at a time, usually devoting my evening to it. Sometimes between posts I'll rewatch episodes I've already seen and blogged about. I've seen Bato of the Water Tribe an embarrassing number of times, and episode 1 at least 4 times. But I'm not watching ahead, and I'm doing the closest thing to liveblogging that the medium allows.

I used to do freelance transcription (and may go back), so I'm very used to making a direct line between the content on the screen and my keyboard. It's a useful skill!

It is a lot of work, and I'm sure there's a more efficient way to do it, but I enjoy it. I can spend two hours typing up a post and it will feel like 20 minutes.

#ask #atla #avatar: the last airbender #fastest fingers in the west #avatar the last airbender

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toa-archive · 7 months

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This week's boards are brought to you by someone who has been feeling increasingly worse all afternoon and this post may be typo riddled. Apologies.

As the schedule wasn't done yesterday had a quick shufty through the Archive's storyboards in hopes of links working given so many aren't at present and noticed something.

Stephen Sawran has a collection of sequences for the Trollhunters part of the franchise which are from the episodes So I'm dating a Sorceress and A house divided. So far so good right? Except one of them is the Claire possession sequence.

youtube

Yeah, that one.

What turned up only earlier this year? Marko Bajic's version of the very same sequence! This means Stephen's was a revision of it which not something we get to see very often.

The slide has been set to match the youtube version more or less. This likely wasn't spotted sooner because the thumbnail is completely unrelated and visual triggered memory is very easily foiled. Either way, enjoy :)

#Trollhunters #Tales of Arcadia #Storyboarder: Stephen Sawran #Storyboarder: Marko Bajic #Episode: So I'm dating a Sorceress #Episode: A house divided

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phoebe-delia · 5 months

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Hi there 💕

Eight Drarry Nights 2023 prompt idea:

Louis Tomlinsons song "Miss you"

In case you have any inspiration for it 😊

Lots of love 🫶🏻

Hello, lovely!! Thank you for this prompt! @misscarrots28

Ah, Louis. Hearing his voice takes me back to my 1D days. Good times 😂.

Here's my take on this fun song. I know it could be angstier but this is just where my brain went lol. Hope you enjoy!

CW: implied alcohol, implied heavy drinking, getting back together

A Day, or Forever

Someone is taking a bludger to Harry's head.

He whines as he wakes up, becoming conscious to the throbbing pain. He keep his eyes closed and presses a palm to his forehead. "Fucking ow," he mutters.

"A hangover potion will help with that," a voice says above him.

Harry knows that voice. It shoots through his blood like lightning. Draco.

"Draco?" Harry peels his eyes open and then immediately has to scrunch them closed as they adjust to daylight. He rubs away the sleep in his eyes, and tries again, blinking and then frowning when his vision is blurred.

"Utterly useless, Potter," the Draco-shaped blob in front of him says. He reaches onto the bedside table, retrieves Harry's glasses, and slides them onto his nose.

"There you are," Draco smirks. "Now you may properly ask me what you clearly want to know."

"What are you doing here?" Harry blurts out.

Draco's smirk widens. "You asked me here." He reaches for his mobile, taps a few buttons, and shows it to him. Harry groans at his drunken, typo-riddled texts.

"I have more questions, but first can I have the potion?" Harry grunts, stretching his sore muscles.

Draco snorts, but he hands him the vial. "Here."

Harry sits up and accepts it gratefully, uncapping it and downing it in one go. He swallows, winces as it washes over him, and then vanishes the emptied vial.

"Thanks. Now, what happened?" he asks, clear-headed and sober.

Draco shrugs. "You, in a clearly intoxicated state, told me to come get you from the pub. I, being the gracious ex-boyfriend that I am, came to your aid and brought you safely back here. When I tried to leave, you insisted that I stay the night. And, well, here we are."

Harry flops back down onto his bed. "Right. Well. I'm sorry to have bothered you. I won't, er, keep you any longer. I'm sure you have other places to be." He swallows against the lump in his throat, closing his eyes to avoid looking at Draco. He can't watch him leave; not again.

He braces himself for the feeling of Draco's weight leaving the bed. Instead, he feels cool fingers brush the fringe from his forehead. He dares to open his eyes, breath catching at the sight of Draco leaning over him and biting his lip.

"Harry, I..." Draco trails off for a moment, seeming to collect his thoughts, before he continues. "I'm sorry."

Harry's heart races. "W-what?

"I'm sorry. For not having the courage, at the time, to be someone you deserve."

"I..." Harry wants to respond, to say the right thing. This moment feels so precious; so fragile. Harry can't mess it up again; he won't. "I'm sorry, too," he says, finally. "For not fighting harder for you."

Draco lets out a shuddered breath, and it takes everything in Harry not to kiss him. Instead, he grips the sheets, restraining himself.

"Stay," Harry hears himself say, his voice raspy. "Just—stay with me."

Draco bites his lip. "You mean, for an hour? The rest of the morning?"

Harry swallows. "A day. Forever. As long as you'll have me." He bravely takes Draco's hand in his own. "I know we have a lot to talk about, still. And we should take it slow, if we're going to do this again. But I want to, if you do."

Draco stares at him for a moment, looks down at their clasped hands, and then back up at Harry with a hopeful smile.

Draco lets himself be pulled down onto the bed next to Harry, their legs tangling together. Draco leans forward and kisses Harry, soft but too quick, and whispers, "Of course I'll stay."

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burins · 5 months

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Dick Grayson!

thank you. i am currently in the pit about him.

Headcanon A: realistic

Dick isn't a big physical possessions guy, with two exceptions: he likes nice clothes, and he has a million photos. One birthday Donna gets him a polaroid camera and they're all over his fridge now. (Don't @ me about Discowing that was what was fashionable at the time!)

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

Dick is good at technology with the exception of civilian phones, which he is so laughably bad at that it seems like maybe he's been cursed? Every message he sends is absolutely riddled with typos. He cannot make group chats work for him. Every other week he is accidentally sending a four-minute voice memo that's just him doing the dishes. Tim has offered to help. Steph has offered to help. Babs has offered to help. this is hilarious to everyone involved, because Dick has been using the Batcomputer since he was 10.

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

When Bruce comes back from the dead, Dick lets Damian go. Of course he does. Damian is Bruce's son, and he loves Bruce with the fierce and unsuspicious love of a kid who's yet to be disappointed by his father. Dick doesn't get to keep him. That wouldn't be fair to any of them.

But a year later when he's holding Damian's body he can't stop thinking that he didn't even try.

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

so my dick grayson comics read was the first character read i did for comics, before i started taking screencaps of things (way back last october or november!) which means my memory of what is actually canon is... fuzzy. also he's been around for 50 years so I'm afraid of saying something that for real happened. my easiest answer is just: he would not be a cop. he wouldn't! he would not.

(send me a character!)

#tag game #dc comics #dick grayson

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boycasanova · 1 year

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✎ Twisted Wonderland NRC 2 + Glasses headcanons. It’s #Yurithursday, how has the week flown by so quick? | Riddle, Jade, Floyd, Kalim, and Silver

Edit: Fixed Typos, added bits C=

Riddle wears thin, rectangular frames. They make him look more mature as well as fit the rest of his sensibilities. He may be smaller, and traditionally adorable, but he’s an old, refined man on the inside. I mean he sits on the porch drinking tea. Outside of his admiration for the Queen of Roses, he’s a very milquetoast guy. The red hair and short temper were his inheritance from his parents, but everything he’s gathered on his own points towards asceticism. He wears them whenever he’s prescribed, but adequate vision, they’re mostly reserved for reading or driving. He takes pride in his health, even the things not necessarily in his control. He’s as strict with himself as he is with others. No phone in bed, nothing too bright in a dark room, no sitting too close to the television or computer screen, no straining his eyes in any way, daily vitamins. He worries to this degree to ensure there’s nothing really to worry about.

His glasses are CUTE! Cater and Trey think they’re so cute on him because he looks like a little grandpa. Cater really thinks that he should play into his boyish appeal with more youthful accessories, but Riddle reminds him that they’re not for style, they’re functional. That doesn’t stop him from recommending, strongly, rounded, oversized rim glasses. In Cater’s opinion, his frames paired against his sweater vest and slacks make him look too mature. Not Trey. Trey loves that shit. Despite only being a year older than him, and childhood friends at that, Trey thinks Riddle is adorable.

Ace and Deuce have both, individually, broken his glasses before.

I think Riddle honestly just has bad luck. Ace and Deuce aren’t malicious, but they’re both a bit careless and self-centered, which leads to their many many many transgressions. He probably bends forward in the library to pick something up and they casually slide off his nose. Before he can reach over to grab them, Deuce steps his heavy foot on them without noticing. Riddle just looks up like, “...Are you serious?” When he finally gets them replaced, Ace wrestles with Riddle’s backpack to show Yuu and Deuce a move his brother taught him. It makes a sickening crunch when he slams the bag down and jumps on it. Ace’s excuse isn’t even an apology, he’s immediately like, “You should put your name on your stuff. If I knew it was yours I wouldn’t have even gone near it.” Riddle is perplexed by how his mind formulates accountability dodging thoughts twice as fast as the average person.

Jade has coke bottles, the lenses are so much thicker than the frame that he’s actually embarrassing Floyd by osmosis. He looks like a dork, unfortunately, his goofy haircut and translucent rows of sharp teeth do him no additional favors. As eels, their eyes are accustomed to the dark and muddiness of the ocean floor, so they’re extremely nearsighted. He’s a squinter too which annoys Azul who tries to get him to wear his glasses. Although unrelated to wearing glasses, he’s just as vain as Floyd. His frames are also simple like Riddle’s, rectangular frames fit his face the best. He wears them in his dorm and sometimes at home, but that’s it. Most of his friends, really just Trey and Azul, wear glasses so you think he would too, but he ultimately doesn’t want the three of them to stand out.

I think he would be so cute with his glasses. If he’s taking a picture he’ll pose with them, like playfully biting the tips of the frame legs. He also probably loses his glasses in Floyd’s side of the room. He’s so organzied and clean and he hates it when it happens.

Floyd doesn’t wear his glasses at all. It’s actually mind boggling because he’ll wear the prescriptionless frames as an accessory, but refuses to just wear his own. Myopia and his lack of self restriction results in him getting extremely close to things- and people, to see them. If you mention doing something different to your face or changing your uniform, he’ll close the distance between the two of you to see it. Floyd will get forehead to forehead to read your shirt. He gets a little laugh out of it too.

NRC has made a ton of accommodations for them, like reserving their seats in the front of the class, which Jade actually utilizes. Floyd refuses to sit in the front, he calls them the peanut gallery desperate for an ounce of validation from their professors. He read those words online and understood them to be insults, so he calls people desperate now. Floyd instead sits in the back. When he needs to read the board, he awkwardly writhes toward the front of the room, standing near the door off to the side of the classroom. He doesn’t take notes in class anyway, so it’s not usually a problem, he can read his own textbook at his desk.

He pretends that it’s not a big deal that he’s blind, but his parents worry about him. <3

Kalim is so cute. His glasses are so expensive and he goes through a new pair each week. The last time he had them replaced was when they fell out of pocket while on his broom. Miraculously, they were fine, until Deuce Spade landed on his broom, crushing them. Oops.

Kalim probably doesn’t like his glasses because they make him look more like his father, which is interesting to Jamil. Jamil likes thinking about natalism and lineage, seeing Kalim morph into his father gave him butterflies. The realization that he wasn’t Kalim, the party enthusiast, lothario that wrecked the image of Scarabia, he was Kalim Al-Asim, his young master, heir to the Al-Asim fortune, inheritor of centuries of power. That’s a little handsome… Wretched, horror, fear!!!

They’re round, large, and regal. Floyd thinks they’re so good looking that he often steals them for his outfits. Kalim however has no idea where they come from. All he knows is that when they break, they magically fix themselves and put themselves back on his nightstand exactly two weeks later. He’ll mention to Jamil who’s like, “Wow,” absolutely bonkered out by how he doesn’t know. Kalim’s vision is usually obstructed by tears, but other than that it’s fine. Unlike the tweels, he’s a bit farsighted, so his glasses are mainly for personal reading. Kalim is also the type to try on other people’s glasses. He takes them from his other students and comments things like, “Oh geez you can’t see anything can you?” It’s all in good fun, he’s very innocently condescending and rude.

Lilia never bothered to get Silver glasses, and his eyes are closed most of the time anyway. When asked about anything relating to human health, Lilia and Malleus are like ??? Who cares??? We’re not huma- SILVER!! They often forget that Silver is not fae like them, and assign him fae qualities. Lilia’s like, “Why didn’t the corner store man sell you my cigarettes? You’re almost 6 feet tall, you look to be at least 200 or 300, why would he card you?” And Silver’s like, “Father, I am 11... and almost 5 tall.”

However, Malleus does take him to his physicals later in life. They find that he really doesn’t need glasses. If he did, he wouldn’t be swayed in any particular direction style wise. Lilia would push him towards stylish ones, with a bunch of charms and a chain. Lilia probably grabs some hot pink, zebra print, hello kitty collaboration frame and tries to sell him on them. I think he and Lilia would have similar bouts even outside of that. Silver reminds him that the Lilia that raised him wasn’t cute, or 5’2, and ultimately he wants to be more like that forgotten warrior.

I think Silver would value Malleus’s opinion, but not on matters like this. He sees that Malleus gets no girls, has no swag, and wears ironic muscle tees under his uniform, if there’s a shirt there at all, and just doesn’t take him seriously. Malleus would want him to go for something classic, tiny, with lenses that only covered his eyes, like a Goblin. Silver and Lilia both actively gag at those Theodore Roosevelt glasses. Ultimately, Sebek probably picks them. He goes for something neutral that wouldn’t obscure his princely visage.

When word gets out that Silver has glasses, probably spread by Kalim, Idia waits for him to put them on to see if they make him look any less handsome. Instead of looking dorky, he looks more refined and mature… Like a chad cosplaying a nerd in a ya novel.

#twst #silver twisted wonderland #silver twst #lilia vanrogue #malleus draconia #floyd leech #Jade leech #riddle rosehearts #kalim al asim #twst reader #twst x reader #twst headcanons #night ravens college #floydyuu #koebi chan #i love floyd x yuu #🗡️#🥀#mw

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bubblegump-1-nk · 1 year

Text

As She Walks By

this is my first time writing for Theodore about so bare with me please.

summary: Theodore and you are just best friends (or not), but when he finally hooks up with the Hufflepuff girl who’s had a crush on him for years, things may start to change

based off of the song Heather by Conan Gray (a little bit), set in three perspectives: yours, Theos, and the Hufflepuff girl (an OC I called Althenea Circ). I made you a Gryffindor but if you want to change your house just imagine whatever house I want.

warnings: insecurity, angst, not really cheating but idk, typos probably, cussing, toxic relationships (these warnings apply to the upcoming parts so you might not see some of them in some of the parts, if that makes sense) I think that’s all but tell me if you find anything else pls!

I was in my dorm getting ready for dinner after a long day of school. I had had 3 tests and 2 pop quizzes, I were certain that wasn’t even legal. I took my time as I brushed and braided my hair, since Hermione was telling me an interesting story.

“… and then the girl, the Slytherin I was telling you about before, threw her wand at Seamus. And I mean threw it at him. He had to go to the hospital wing after.”

I burst out laughing, which made Hermione laugh, which then only made me laugh harder. In the midst of our laughing, my other dorm mate, Lavender walked in.

“What are you two silly’s laughing at this time.” She said, smiling as she could hear you’re laughter all the way down from the common room.

“Hermione was just telling me about Seamus encounter with Cat Griffens.” I managed to get out in between laughs.

“Oh my god, that was hilarious. His face after she hit him with her wand was priceless!” She said, giggling at the image in her head.

We sat and laughed some more until we began to get even hungrier than we had been before and decided to head down to the Great Hall. On our way down the corridors which led to the delicious buffet that was awaiting us, we heard rackets of laughter behind us. I turned around, since I recognized the cacophony immediately, and sure enough it belonged to Mattheo Riddle and Theodore Nott.

“Damn it, we were trying to scare you.” Said Mattheo, defeated face after I discovered them.

“God, you guys really need to work on your sneaking skills.” I said, giggling.

“Oh come on, our sneaking skills are great.” Said Theo, putting his arm over my shoulder as him and Riddle caught up with me and the two other Gryffindors.

“If that’s great then Snape is the kindest teacher at Hogwarts.” Said Hermione, giggling at the boys antics.

“Alright then, why don’t you find me some library books to study then.” Theo said, teasing her and he lightly pulled a piece of her hair, causing Hermione to laughingly slap his hand away.

“And you Lavender, what do you rate our skills?” Asked Mattheo, having noticed how quiet she got as soon as they showed up.

She blushed and sheepishly said “I think they’re great.”

The two boys looked at each other and laughed at her response, obviously knowing that she found them very attractive.

I poked Theo’s side at his response to Lavender, noticing she had gotten even redder after they laughed at her.

I tried to ease the tension by saying “You two are only laughing because you know she’s lying.”

“Well then, maybe we’ll have to pull out the Veritaserum at the Slytherin party tomorrow!”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that. What time should we get there.” Hermione asks.

“Well, for our VIP guests you two can get there as early as you want.” Said Theo.

I rolled my eyes playfully at him and soon enough I had entered the dining hall.

Theo unsnaked his arm from around my shoulders and playfully kissed the top of my head, which caused me to lightly slap his shoulder. Mattheo and him jogged over to the Slytherin table, their laughter being heard all around the dinner room.

Hermione and I went over to where Harry and Ron were sitting, already mostly done with their plates.

“What was that all about?” Asked Ron.

“What was what all about?” I responded.

“Oh you know, the kiss and the arm around your shoulders. Last time I checked you two were just friends.” He responded.

“And why do you care so much Ronald.” Hermione asked sternly.

“I don’t! Just confused on the whole Theo-y/n relationship.” He said which made Harry nod intently in agreement.

“We’re just friends. Anyway, Slytherin party tomorrow at 8.” I responded. Me myself trying to convince myself that that’s all I thought of Theo, because I knew he didn’t feel the same way about me.

“Fraternizing with the enemy I see.” Said Harry playfully.

“I thought you and Draco had worked things out in like, third year.” I said, loading my plate up with pasta.

“We did, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s still a git.” He said, finishing off his cup of pumpkin juice.

Us four continued to talk and eat, and then eventually walked back to the common room together to hang out until finally going our separate ways to our dorm rooms.

-the next day-

I woke up to Hermione shaking me awake.

“Whattt.” I said groggily, rolling around as to try to get away from Hermione’s shaking.

“Come on y/n, we have to go know if we want some breakfast.”

“Ugh, fine.” I said, slowly opening my eyes and getting up.

I got ready for the day, and packed my schoolbooks for this Friday’s classes. Hermione and I walked to breakfast (Ron and Harry had eaten early so they could finish a potions essay they had forgotten about). We ate quickly before heading down to the dungeons for class with Professor Snape.

I walked into the almost full classroom, and made my way to my shared table with Hermione, right behind Theo and Draco.

“Wow, no good morning for us?” Said Theo playfully.

“It’s too early to be nice.” I said, putting my head down for some attempt at extra sleep.

“Wow, I see how it is.” Said Theo chuckling.

….

The day ended quicker than I was expecting and before I knew it, Hermione and I were getting ready for the party in our dorm.

“What do you three think of this?” I asked Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati, wearing a red corset and a little black skirt.

“I think Theo’s going to love it” Parvati said with a wink.

I huffed and threw a book at her, which she dodged.

The girls started laughing and Hermione said, “Oh right, we forgot, it’s Mattheo isn’t it?” Which caused the girls to laugh even more.

“You guys are so annoying!” I said playfully, trying not to giggle.

“Well I think you look great, y/n.” Lavender said.

I thanked her and finished doing my makeup and hair, which I had put in some hair rollers.

“Well you three have fun, I’ll just be here finishing this damn Transfigurations project.” Said Lavender, annoyed she couldn’t attend the party with her friends.

“We’ll miss you Lav.” I said, the other girls agreeing with me as we walked out of the common room, meeting Ron and Harry, as we all walked towards the dungeons.

-Theo’s POV-

I sat on the couch with Mattheo, looking at the entrance every time I heard it open, hoping it was y/n. But it hasn’t been you, not yet. I wondered what was taking you so long, because you could show up in sweatpants and a shirt covered in pasta sauce and you’d still be more beautiful than all the girls in this room. The door opened again, and this time I knew it was you, because I heard your church bell laugh bouncing off the walls. I turned around quickly to look at you entering the enlarged common room.

“And then…” Draco began, cutting himself of after seeing my sudden uninterest in his story.

The cutoff caused all the boys who had been listening to Draco turn to me, and then turn to what I was looking at.. you, of course.

“Oh come on Theo.” Said Draco, exhausted with my interest in you.

“What?” I said, turning around again, trying to play it off.

“Just go fuck her already.” Said Blaise.

“It’s not like that! You’re all a bunch of gits.” I said, annoyed because I had been caught.

“Why are they a bunch of gits?” You said, appearing at my side with Hermione, Harry and Ron having gone off to get drinks.

I gulped and my palms were sweaty, “Well, uh, they were just making fun of me.. because, er, because I don’t..” I trailed off, eyes darting to my friends for help.

“We were making fun of him because he won’t do more than two rounds of shots.” Matthew said, noticing my panic.

“Oh Teddy, you have much to learn.” You said, your sweet voice and the sweet nickname intoxicating me.

“Don’t call me Teddy.” I said, quickly fixing myself after I almost dropped his act.

“You know you love it, Teddy.” You said, laughing.

“Got your drinks.” Harry said, handing you a fire whiskey whilst Ron handed Hermione some kind of drink.

“Thanks guys.” You say, taking a drink from the cup.

“Well, Hermione and I are going to go dance. You all have fun.” You say, grabbing Hermione’s hand as you walk away to the dance floor.

I stare at you more intently than ever, I had no idea how someone could be so beautiful. And what makes it even worse is that I’m not the only one who sees it. I can see all the guys, trying hard not to stare at you for the sake of their girlfriends, and I can also see the guys who have no shame in hungrily raking their eyes over your body. None of those guys deserve you, none of them could treat you like I would. No one could make you feel as good as I could. My wild imagination is cut off by Blaise’s inaudible voice

“Er.. sorry what was that?” I ask.

“I said, Draco and I are going to go and get drinks. Do you want anything?” Blaise asked again.

“Er, I don’t know. Just give me the strongest thing there is.”

“Alright mate.” Blaise says, shocked at my choice.

“Uh oh mate, looks like someone forgot about you.” Mattheo whispers to me, lightly chuckling.

I looks at him confused, then I follow Mattheo’s eyes to you… and Dean Thomas. Hermione long gone, probably hooking up with that Ravenclaw girl she’s been obsessing over to me. Dean was saying something that invoked your beautiful laughter. His arm was snaked around your waist, your waist that would look so good.. maybe I shouldn’t think about you like that. Why was I so mad? You and I were just friends, we’ve always been just that.

“Here you are mate. It’s some brew the Weasley twins made so be careful” Blaise said, tapping my shoulder and handing me a red cup full of an unknown liquid. I grabbed it and downed the cup in 2 gulps, never taking my eyes off of you and that fucker Dean.

“Wow, slow down. Don’t want to end up like last time.” Draco said, some blonde attached to his hip.

I flipped Draco off before plopping myself down on the couch. I tried hard not to look at you and.. goddamn you and Dean were snogging like a bunch of animals. I turned around and saw someone’s eyes on mine. I turned to her fully, her eyes swiftly leaving mine as I turned to her. Althenea Circ, I think her name was. According to Mattheo she’s been practically in love with me since 3rd year. I don’t know if it was the jealousy or the mystery drink, probably a mix of both, which caused me to walk over to her.

Before I knew it we were in a corner, snogging just like you and Dean.

-The next morning-

“Pass me the eggs.” I said to Draco as I loaded my plate with bacon. Hopefully the salty food would make my hang over go away, and the awful memory of having hooked up with that Hufflepuff girl.

“Easy on the bacon mate. We all want some.” Said Mattheo, wearing a pair of sunglasses, he’s always so dramatic.

“It refills magically you fucking idiot.” I said, annoyed at his antics.

“Damn, no need to be so damn rude just because you hooked up with that nasty girl yesterday.” Mattheo said, grabbing bacon off my plate.

I slapped his hands away, sending him a glare.

“Don’t fucking talk about her like that.” I said.

“Oh I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were in love. What’s y/n going to say?”

“Just shut the fuck up. And I’m not in love it’s just rude to talk about someone that way.” I said, biting off a piece of my toast.

The four of us were silent and tense for about 10 minutes, eating our breakfast and trying to forget about how much we all drank last night, until we were interrupted.

“Hi Theo!” Said Alth… oh god I forgot her name.

“Er.. hi.” I said, looking up.

“Would you maybe want to go to Hogsmeade with me later today? We could go for lunch.” The girl said, her voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard compared to your beautiful, sunshine voice I was used to hearing. I sat there for a few beats before responding, astonished that a girl like her would ever think that a boy like me would want to be around her. But I couldn’t say no, it would be too mean. Plus, I could finally pretend to be over you.

“Sure.”

part 2 coming (mayb) soon 😋

#theodore nott #harry potter #golden trio #slytherin #slytherin boys #mattheo riddle #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #hogwarts oc #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hufflepuff

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frostandflamesfanfic · 2 years

Text

couch. (Peter Parker x Reader)

couch. (Rated G)

Request?: No...

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader (wrote with Peter 3 in mind, but can be applied to any of our spidey boys)

Word Count: 1.7k+

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, I wrote this while being sleep deprived so there may be typos, Peter being just too gosh darn adorable

Summary: Inspired by "couch" by We Three- The best laid plans always work out right? On one lazy Saturday morning, Peter is contemplating how to start taking the next steps toward your future together. When you remind him how important it is to relax, does he stick with his big plan or learn to sometimes just to go with the flow?

We've got a lot of things to figure out

Like cash the checks and go workout,

But I think I'd rather sit here on the couch

“Peter?” your voice danced its way into the living room of his apartment. “Have you seen my hoodie? I can’t find it anywhere and I need to get to the bank to put in my paycheck.” You stumbled throughout the space, one hand rubbing at your sleep-riddled eyes. To Peter, there wasn’t a more beautiful sight to wake up to. You were dressed in a pair of his sweatpants and one of his old beat up t-shirts. He had lent you a pair of oversized socks, too, because you were complaining about your toes being cold under the covers the night before.

The brown-haired looked up from his spot on the oversized ripped sofa, where he was working on his laptop. He tilted his head to look at you with squinted eyes. The morning sun was streaming through the windows of his apartment in just the right (but also totally wrong and annoying) way. “Good morning to you, too, sweetheart,” he gave you the sweetest tight smile before directing his attention back to the screen. “Have you checked under the bed?”

He was supposed to be editing a series of images he snapped of Spider-Man over the last week. Was he actually doing that? No. He was actually looking up plane tickets to Bali. Why Bali? Because that’s where he wanted to be able to propose to you – the same place your parents met on a volunteer expedition. He had been saving for months. Not just for the trip, but the beautiful silver half-carat diamond ring that was burning a hole through its hiding place in his dresser drawer.

The two of you had been dating for a year or so now, which might seem a bit rushed to some people, but not for you or Peter. You had both seen your fair share of tragedy before you finally crossed paths. He had lost his parents as a child and the love of his life around the end of high school. He needed to start over completely. You lost your parents in a freak accident at a young age, not to mention your fiance merely weeks after beginning your new job at some corrupt company.

When you met on the subway, it almost seemed like the universe was trying to tell you something. There had been no seats left and the two of you were forced to stand face-to-face on opposite sides of the car after a series of delays. Not that Peter was complaining, though. You looked like a vision to him. From the way you anxiously shifted your weight from foot to foot, to the way you bit the middle of your bottom in concentration as you looked at your phone. He wished he would have had the courage right then and there to ask your name. Yet something stopped him.

For a subway ride, it had been a rather bumpy one. You had been pushed forward and fallen against him…twice. Each time you collided, he could feel your heartbeat thudding incredibly hard against his chest. He was surprised to discover that his heartbeat soon matched your rhythm and he gave a subtle grimace at the sweat gathering in his palm. He tried to get himself to talk to you, to even ask your name, but nothing escaped him. By the time you had reached Peter’s stop, he sighed as he ultimately gave up with the internal battle. He had no chance, Peter had assured himself. Then he heard you stammering behind him as he turned to walk toward the door.

“So how many times would I have needed to fall into you before you asked me out?” your voice called out.

It was safe to say Peter didn’t hesitate any more after that.

The next year was a beautiful rollercoaster. Peter had to pinch himself a few times to realize that this was real – you were actually his and he was yours. He didn’t need to worry about pretending to be someone he wasn’t. With you, he could let down his guard. You made him feel safe, loved…at home. He really hoped you would say yes to his proposal. He couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with you.

The feeling of an added weight on the couch and something brushing against his arm caused Peter to be snapped from his thoughts. You were snuggling into his side, attempting to rest your chin atop his shoulder to look at his screen. In a panic, Peter minimized the tab and started to play around with a random image in his editing software. His quick thinking- and reflexes- came to the rescue again as you gave a small nod.

“That’s a nice shot,” you mumbled sleepily before yawning again. You rested your head against the side of his arm and smacked your lips like a small child. It always made Peter smile to see you like this. You reminded him of a little kid in this state, but always with this mushy personality.

He leaned over to press a kiss to your forehead before allowing himself to get fixated back on the image in front of him. “Thanks, sweetheart,” Peter answered. “I mean, it is my job right now, so…I hope I’m good at it.”

You gave a hum of agreement and nestled against his sitting frame. Another smile plastered itself against Peter’s lips as you tangled your legs with his. Your nose nudged at the back of his arm and you closed your eyes. “This is nice,” you said, stretching out just a bit more.

Peter nodded and let out his own sound of acknowledgement, expertly adjusting the saturation levels of the image.

We've got a lot of people we should see

And I know that we should get some groceries,

But honestly, I just don't want to leave

“We need cereal,” another mumble into his shirt sleeve. “And milk. And fruit. And eggs…”

A chuckle escaped Peter before he could prevent it. “We,” you had said. Slowly but surely, it wasn’t just his apartment anymore. Your stuff had begun to find its way into random drawers and closets in the space. Your toothbrush sat right next to his own in the bathroom. There was a shared grocery list stuck to his refrigerator with both of your handwriting on it. Even your shampoo was stored in the shower, its sweet vanilla scent flooding the room and making him relax every time he stepped inside. It smelled like you and he couldn’t get enough. He never thought he would be able to share his life with someone like this ever again, but he was beyond grateful he could.

“We can get them from the store on Fifth,” he said now, nodding a bit at the mental note he made to visit the shop. Martha, the shopkeeper, would be happy to see him there. She’d probably pester him about the fact he had yet to make you an honest person, but he honestly didn’t care. “You can take one of my hoodies when we go, if you want.”

You grunted. “Or…” you mumbled. “We could just stay here.” You snuggled closer into his side. “This is pretty perfect right now.”

Cause I'm here and you're there,

Breathin' in my air

Feel it stop, skip a beat

Peter moved his hand to toy with the ends of your hair, making you hum in delight. It was a sound that brought a smile to his face and a warm feeling in his heart. Everything you did was perfect to him and gave him so much joy. He loved how you felt in his arms, how good your hair smells after you get out of a shower…

“Marry me,” he said softly. Peter barely registered the words as they left his mouth, but deep down, he knew it was the right thing to do. This was the moment. Not some big vacation to Bali, nothing overly extravagant. All he needed was you, him, and this couch. The two of you were in your own little world and that was perfect.

“What?” you asked, sitting up ever-so-slightly.

“I want to marry you,” Peter was more confident now. “I want to wake up with you every day, I want to hold your hand in the grocery store. The days you’re having the best time, I want to be there. I want to hold you when you’re crying and having the worst day, tell you it’s okay and things will work out. I want to see you come down the aisle and we both are crying.” The two of you laughed at the last part. “Most of all, I just want to know that for every day for the rest of my life, you’re going to be in it. So please, marry me?”

“Peter…” you breathed out.

That’s when he realized something was missing. Something that was really…really important to this particular moment. “Actually,” he said, standing up suddenly before taking off to the bedroom, “hold on one second. Just…stay there. I have to get something.”

When he came back into the living room, he got down on one knee before you. His dark eyes searched yours as he opened the small velvet box to reveal the sparkling piece of jewelry. “I know it’s only been a year,” he said, “and I really should have had a much better speech planned out, but that’s just it. With you, I don’t have to plan. You make me want to be spontaneous, to be a person that doesn’t have a care in the world. But…I can only be that person with you. So, what do you say?”

You shook your head with a playful expression on your face. “It took you long enough,” you teased, giving him the slightest of nods with the largest of smiles threatening to appear. It was so bright, Peter was afraid he might go blind just looking at it for too long. “Of course I’ll marry you.”

As he slipped the ring on your finger, Peter pressed his lips to yours and nearly melted. You truly were his missing puzzle piece, his better half that he always was going to need. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for you and he couldn’t wait to see what forever would hold.

On this couch, in my T

You're wearin' my sweatpants

Without a doubt, not goin' out

Let's stay on the couch

================

Author's Note: I have no self control. I swear, I cannot help myself when I hear a song and get a character scenario stuck in my head. This is the second time this has happened in the last few days, but this is first one I'm posting. I still need to work on the other one! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this little fluff piece with our lovable dork, Peter Parker. I thought this song was just perfect for him, even if it means doing something a bit different than my typical Strange fics.

As usual, if you liked this fic, leave a like, comment, and a cheeky reblog. It helps me out with the lovely algorithm and lets me know what kind of stories you like to see on my blog! And let me know which Peter YOU imagine this story to be about. I'm curious...

Until next time, little sparks! If you want to be added to any of my character taglists, drop me an ask or private message- I promise I'm really not that scary!

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artficlly · 11 months

Text

the horselords of naraik [chapter 3]

A quiet civil war has raged across the kingdom of Garwic for nearly three decades. The cruelty of the Duke of Garwic knows no end, bringing death and misery with each raid upon the lower-class. The horselords of naraik have fought to protect those suffering under the Duke's violence. The reader being the daughter of the duke is captured and held for ransom, only things are not as they seem. The reader can only hope that the horselords recognise her as a victim rather than a villain before it is too late. Fantasy AU

Pairing: horselord!bucky x duchess!witch!reader

Warnings: huge suicidal thoughts/intentions warning, huge SA warning (not to reader), bucky is an asshole in this but he gets better in the next chapter i promise, violence, blood, wounds, death, swearing, yelling, angst, tension, mention of sickness, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: i don't like this chapter which is why it's taken me so long to get up. feeling very burnt out. this chapter is particularly triggering in regard to suicidal topics as well as SA topics so please read at your own risk. not proof read - sorry for any typos

chapter masterlist | main masterlist

You felt the storm long before its presence was known. There was an energy to the wind, a taste of electricity on your tongue. The entire ride to the next camp had been riddled with anxious energy, the horses twitching and acting up. The horde were connected with their horses, bonded for life and they knew that the weather was coming in and fast. Your trek had been cut short, men and women rushing to put up the tents before the wind set in. They lay river rocks along the base of the canvas, holding the billowing fabric in place.

You had broken your hunger strike a week previous, much to the relief of many. You were still not allowed to help May or the healers, but they felt comfort in your presence. The healer women would often sneak you fruit in exchange for recipes or advice. Steve and Nat turned a blind eye, often helping the women sneak back and forth without Bucky’s knowledge.

Still blindfolded, it seemed someone had taken pity on you. Your usual setup of being tied to a tree had been upgraded, now only your hands tied together with a length of rope attached to the tree. You were able to stand and walk for a short perimeter around the tree, often pacing in circles around the trunk until the rope became tangled. Nat said you were acting like a caged dog, pacing and snarling away. In reality it helped you pass the hours, gave you something to do other than mulling over how to escape your doom uselessly. If things had seemed dire before, now with the knowledge Steve had given you everything seemed worse. Even if you knew death was quickly approaching, you decided to spend your last weeks acting like nothing was wrong.

The strong storm winds tussled your hair as you stood, arms braced over your chest for warmth. The rain would arrive soon, you could smell it in the air. In the distance thunder roared closer and closer, it would be upon the camp like a stampeding herd of horses within the hour. The horde's worry wasn’t entirely focused on the storm though, instead hushed whispers carried across the wind as a terrible screaming shook the camp. Wanda had gone into labor hours ago, and it seemed the labor continued to rage on alongside the storm. A doncayo child, as you had predicted. You knew the labor would be hard, contractions rising and falling with the wind and rain. Wanda would have to be one with the storm, time herself with the rumblings of thunder and the flashes of lightning if she hoped her boy would come soon.

You and Steve had barely heard any news of the progress of the birth, only hearing Wanda’s pained cries as the storm grew nearer and nearer. Nat had rushed off as soon as the labor had started to help, leaving the two of you in a foreboding silence. Hours had passed of this hush between the two of you, only being broken as the storm began to pass directly over the top of you. The anxiety of the camp was high, shouts of panic lost to the wind as Wanda’s screaming was lost to waves of thunder. Each time it reverberated across the landscape the booming would become louder and louder, lightning blinding you even through your blindfold. Steve began muttering about where to house you for the night, clearly unhappy with Bucky’s decision to let you brave the storm outside.

“Steve!” Nat’s voice shouted over the howl of the wind, words nearly swallowed by the air that rushed past. You couldn’t see her due to the blindfold, but you could sense her worry through her tone. The birth didn’t seem to be going well you had gathered. Although the skies had been dark before, now the setting sun behind the clouds was casting the plains into darkness.

Steve and Nat exchanged some words you couldn’t quite make out, words and speech lost to the roaring of the wind. You continued to hug your body tightly, using your damp hair to shelter your face from the lashings of rain. The horde would be fine with their furs and cloaks, whereas you were armed with only a light linen shirt and skirt. You strained your ears, flinching slightly as another roll of thunder deafened you momentarily.

The squelch of muddy grass was the only thing to indicate to you of Steve’s sudden closeness. You jolted nevertheless, teeth chattering as he pulled you towards his chest with your bound hands.

“Come.” He instructed, voice raised so you could hear him over the storm. You cocked your head quizzically, only understanding as you felt the cool of a blade cut your bound wrists free.

“Where are we going?” You shouted back, wincing as you rubbed your tender wrists. Steve’s hand found the small of your back, guiding you in the direction of the camp. You were quick to pull off the blindfold, squinting as another flash of lightning engulfed the camp in a blinding white light. You could briefly make out men securing loose tent flaps which blew in the wind, women rushing between tents children in tow but most alarming was Nat.

Her eyes met yours, fear and exhaustion painted across her expression. Her eyebrows were knitted together, crows feet pulled together. Your eyes had cast down to where she braced her hands in front of her stomach, blood lining the skin. Even the sleeves of her shirt were stained pink, blood diluted by the rain.

“Wanda. The baby… it’s twisted so it won’t pass. The healers are at a loss, we don’t have a midwife.” Nat explained, exasperated. You abandon the blindfold in the mud, frowning hard as your eyes follow to the sound of Wanda’s screams.

You hesitate for a moment, Steve’s hand pressing harder into the small of your back as he glances at you in confusion. “What about Bucky–”

“Since when have you cared about what he thinks?” Steve snaps back, catching you off guard.

“Wanda will die if we don’t act quickly, she has already lost too much blood–” Nat begins and you cut her off.

“Take me to her.” You reply determinedly, rushing into the tent alongside the two warriors.

The tent was far warmer and dryer than the weather outside, Wanda groaning as some of the wind rushed in alongside the three of you. There was a darkness cast across the interior, only candles which lined most surfaces casting a dim light. Wanda lay on the bed, blood staining the furs and sweat pooling across her skin. Healers muttered worriedly among each other, only pausing as they caught sight of you half-drenched with a look of determination in your eye.

Wanda let out a sob, muttering your name weakly as she reached out with pale, shaking hands. You were quick to move to her side, pushing strands of damp auburn hair from her sticky forehead. She looked weaker than you had first assumed, skin clammy paired with eyelids that could barely flutter open. You hushed the auburn, your stiff fingers stroking over her swollen belly as you tried to feel how the baby was positioned.

You could feel the form through the tight skin, Wanda’s muscles tensing as another contraction washed over her body. You squeezed her hand throughout, feeling how her stomach strained beneath your palm. Only as the contraction came to its end, the thunder outside fizzling out did you allow yourself to move.

“Get fresh towels and water.” You instruct, glancing at the old water and fabric which was stained with blood. One of the healers sprung to action, dashing out of the door instantly. Beneath you, Wanda sobbed to Nat while the red-head murmured to the woman. You kneeled between Wanda’s legs, letting out a shaking breath.

“Wanda. Wanda, look at me.” You instructed, palm braced against one of her knees. The auburn’s eyes snapped towards yours, eyes red and puffy. You gave her a reassuring smile, worry biting in your gut as you anticipated the next roll of thunder and contractions to come.

“The baby is around the wrong way.” You explain, shaking your head as Wanda is thrown into hysterics once more. “It’s okay. I can move him, I will have to reach in and guide him. Once I have repositioned him, you will have to push.”

“I can’t.” The auburn sobbed.

“Yes you can. I just need you to listen to me and push when I tell you to, he is a doncayo child, we must time it with the thunder.” You explain, a sense of relief coming over you as the healer comes rushing back in with fresh water.

“I don’t understand.” Wanda continues to cry, you shake your head with a tut as you wash your hands in the freshwater.

“That is okay. I will guide you.” You say reassuringly, positioning your hands before Wanda has time to react.

xxx

You had barely finished washing the blood off your hands in the basin of water when Bucky stormed into the tent. Anger and droplets of rain rolled off of his hulking body in waves, his chest heaving for breath after fighting the strong winds.

Nat, who was crouched next to the bed, visibly tensed, standing as she faced the enraged warrior. Steve, who had stayed stoic the entire birth composure faltering slightly. You angled yourself to face Wanda, back turned to Bucky as you dipped your hands and forearms deeper into the cold water with a huff.

“You directly disobeyed my order.” Bucky rumbled as deeply as the thunder that still loomed outside. The storm was still going strong, lightning crashing down to earth as the rain continued to assault the camp in icy sheets.

“Wanda would have died if we didn’t get her help!” Nat protested, motioning to the woman who lay weakly in the bed. In her arms she held a crying infant, a boy as you had predicted. She had lost a lot of blood and was tired, but she would live thankfully. Once you had been able to reposition her son he had arrived easily, much to everyone’s relief.

“You disobeyed an order.” Bucky repeated himself, voice low and dangerous. You tried your best to hold your tongue, drying your hands on a nearby towel. “What has happened to us? Has this witch enchanted all of your minds? Someone should have ridden to a nearby town to fetch a midwife–"

“Ride? In this storm?” Nat barks with a harsh laugh. “You are a fool!”

“No. You are the fool, letting this woman infect you! Don’t you remember who she is, who she shares her blood with?” Bucky continues.

“She has the symbol–” Steve cuts in.

“Quiet!” Bucky interrupts him. “She is a duchess, our enemy, like her mother–”

“Enough!” You shout, sending the room into a stunned silence. The only sound that follows is the sound of you dropping the damp towel onto the table. Outside the winds have grown silent, not even the canvas of the tent rustling with the gale. The rain had stopped, even the roar of the river close-by having gone silent. For a moment, the group of you breathe in the heavy silence, the thunder long gone as if the storm had suddenly disappeared.

With achingly slow steps you walk towards Bucky, who assesses you with a snarl. You position yourself between him and Nat, watching how his chest heaved with rage as he looked down upon you.

“You don’t get to speak about my mother in that way.” You say defiantly, chin lifted. Your voice is unshaking, gaze firmly meeting Bucky’s whose rage had grown into a look of amusement, as if he were in disbelief that you would speak in such a commanding tone – to him – your captor.

“You best learn your place you–” Bucky starts, anger laced in his tone. Your scowl deepens, not allowing him to finish his sentence before you interrupt.

“I said, enough!” You shout, the air feels like it has been sucked from the room into you. The energy that crackles through your blood stings, as if the storm itself had entered your skin. Bucky’s mouth is still open, but words fail to come out as if they had been stolen from his lips. The candles that line every surface all suddenly go out, as if a flash of air had stolen not only Bucky’s words but their life. The tent is cast into an even deeper silence, Wanda’s son no longer crying. The tent is drenched in darknesss, in the dim light you see Nat’s eyes flash in fear. There was no sound of the storm, no words uttered, only the darkness and the power radiating off your body as you gaze upon Bucky with bared teeth.

“My mother was raped,” You hiss at the horselord. “Like many women before and after her, she was taken against her will during the raids. Do you think she wanted that? That she asked for it? The duke was infatuated with her, so he forced his seed upon her. When it was over, he grew embarrassed. A duke laying with a commoner, a magic user at that? He created a rumor that she had enchanted him to fuel his campaign of violence! My mother did everything to protect me, to keep me hidden from him.” Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, a look of contemplation crossing the horselords face.

“I don’t believe you.” He states, deadpan.

“What?” You gasp in disbelief.

“I said, I don't believe you. She was a witch, why didn’t she take a potion? Why would she carry a monster's child? Why didn’t she cut you from her womb like a parasite? Why would a witch test fate knowing she could not change it?”

Your shoulders dropped, you knew the answers to all those questions but it was pointless. You had tried fighting for so long, you had tried fighting for years. All you were met with was the crack of the whip and another rope tied around your wrists. You had tried fighting, screaming, biting and running. It was no use. There was no life left behind your eyes, no spark of the girl you had once been. So many years you had been nothing but numb, turning to starvation and self mutilation to feel something other than emptiness. The magic that flowed from you was a defense mechanism, there was no artistry, no passion or love left for the craft. You were empty. A husk of your former self, tormented night and day by those you had lost.

The tent burst back to life, the wicks of the candles flickering back to life, the baby crying once more. Outside the rain pelted onto the fabric of the tent, the wind howling and screeching as it tore through the camp. Even the river roared, its banks overflowing. And you were no longer a storm, instead just a scared little girl. The beast you had possessed, the power that prowled and snarled beneath your skin gone. It was lost with the wind.

“The promises you hold yourself to will be your downfall,” You utter with the last of your breath, not even bothering to check the reactions of those in the tent. Instead you walk past Bucky, opening the tent flap and walking directly into the storm outside.

The winds had grown since you had been outside, almost instantly drenched by the side-ways rain that assaulted you in icy sheets. Your arms went to wrap around your torso, protecting your shivering form from the strong winds that whipped the air straight from your lungs. No one dared to follow you into the madness, even the other members of the horde had retreated into their tents to hunker down for the rest of the night.

Staggering against the gales of wind, you were unsure if you were crying from the whipping wind piercing your eyes, or from the confrontation from moments before. A sob from deep inside your chest was lost to the crashing of the storm, lightning momentarily lightning up the ground beneath you. The river was overflowing, waters pulling dangerously close to the tree you had been tied to.

Despite all things warning you to stay away, to find a warm tent somewhere, you pressed deeper into the storm until your legs gave in from a mixture of the battle against the strong winds and the exhaustion of the past few hours. You were overwhelmed by grief, everything you had lived for was for nothing. Your mother had died for nothing. You missed her, and you had never been allowed to mourn her. You had never been allowed to mourn all the lives lost in Idamir during the final raids. So many months you had spent in your fathers clutches, so many weeks you had allowed yourself to be doubted by the horde that could save you. You were a fool and a coward, you had allowed hope and your desire to live dominate your senses. Your fate, your destiny, it would not be one worth living. You wished to just tell Bucky the truth, why your father kept you at his manor. But fear clutched your heart, fear that maybe he would hand you over regardless.

There was no kindness left in your world, only the cruel hand of fate and death. You were ready to outstretch your own hand and let them carry you away.

Your hair was slick against your face and neck, clothes painfully snapping against your shivering skin as they were pulled to-and-fro by the wind. Your knees connected with the muddy bank of the river, chest heaving as you leaned against the tree. You wove the rope you had previously tied to around your palm. The river was violent, brown water roaring past with large branches and trunks of trees caught in its current. You wished you could wade into the depths, let the currents pull you away. You would be the rock with the three knots, your father the fever you washed away.

But once again, you were a coward. Instead you lay your head down against the wet ground, watching as the river swelled. You were so tired, so weak. You could only hope the river would take mercy on you and sweep you away in your sleep. That when you opened your eyes again, only the darkness of death would greet you.

xxx

You awoke to the sound of Nat’s voice. For a moment, you wondered if the storm had carried you all away. You could imagine the river swelling further, banks bursting into the camp and sweeping the entire horde away. Nat’s voice floated above you, calling with worry. Despite your best efforts, the call of the darkness was stronger than the will to open your eyes. You slipped in between two worlds, the peacefulness of rest and the torture of Nat poking and proding above you.

Your neck and back ached, legs up to your thighs submerged in a thin layer of water. You flashed between hot and cold, hair laden with mud stuck across your flushed skin. A set of cool fingers were pressed against your forehead, another worried mumble coming from the woman.

“Is she alive?” Another similar voice asked, deeper and male. Steve. You almost stirred at that, the soft feeling of fur tickling your exposed skin as if he had draped his cloak over your frail body.

“Barely. She won’t wake,” Nat whispered in a hushed tone to the warrior, pushing some of the stiff hair that had dried against your cheek. Her fingers paused with a jolt as the sound of mud squelching beneath boots drew closer, an annoyed grunt leaving the lips of whoever lingered nearby. Even in your delirious state, you knew who it was. You tried to focus your mind on the rush of the nearby river, the call of the birds that had returned now the storm had passed.

“Wake her and give her some food.” The gruff voice of Bucky instructed.

“She won’t wake up.” Natasha repeated to the horselord, fingers skimming over your scorching skin.

“She is probably faking it,” Bucky replied with a huff. “Hoping we will forget her so she can make her escape.”

“No. Bucky, she’s feverish and her pulse is weak, I can barely feel it–” Natasha explained, upset clear in her voice. You could hear the rustle of clothing, as if Steve had reached out to her as he hand was quickly withdrawn from your face.

The three of them were silent, for a moment you thought you had slipped away into unconsciousness once more. Instead Bucky spoke up once more, this time uncharacteristic worry in his voice. “Show me.”

There was more movement, then a set of large callused fingers tenderly pressed against your neck. Bucky was silent as he felt your slow pulse, the back of his free hand delicately brushing against your forehead to feel your temperature.

“This is your fault,” Nat hissed from somewhere nearby. “She is the one you told us to look for, the one with the symbol. She’s supposed to help us and all you have done is ruin everything.”

“Quiet, Nat.” Steve grumbled in response. Bucky’s touch didn’t waver as he continued to assess your condition.

“No! You be quiet. You always defend him. She was right, Bucky. Your promises to yourself will not only cause your downfall but the death of us all! As much as we deny it, the Garwic soldiers are slaughtering the south in mass! We can’t hold on for much longer!” Nat snapped, only then did Bucky withdraw his touch with a loud sigh.

“I fear you are right.” He replied defeatedly, leaving the two warriors in a stunned silence. Only then do you try your best to open your eyes, to reach out for the horselord but strength alludes you once more.

To your surprise, Bucky doesn’t retreat in shame at this realization. Instead you feel a pair of arms scoop you up, one holding you by the crook of your knee, the other behind your shoulder blades. Your side is pressed up against Bucky’s chest, body limp and at the mercy of his gait as he carries you back into the camp. You try to open your eyes once more, trying to grip the forearm that holds you close but you cannot. You are so cold, skin covered in goosebumps and wracked with chills. Your limbs feel stiff and frozen, but burning with fever all at once. You head lulls with each step, hair thick with mud dangling freely.

The murmurs of camp merge into one, the sounds of construction and voices all jumbled into a symphony of noise. You can’t find the effort to isolate one voice or gasp of worry. Instead your mind falls blank, only snapping back as you feel the heat of a fire against your skin. You are placed down onto soft furs with delicate care, fingers pulling the strands of hair from your face.

“Nat, undress her from those wet clothes. We need to get her warm and dry.” Bucky instructs, which is met with a confirming noise from Nat who is quickly by your side. Only as Nat pulls you into a sitting position, are you able to open your eyes weakly. If the woman notices, she doesn’t reveal it. Instead she works on pulling off your shirt with some struggle, as she is also supporting your bodyweight.

You are sat in what you assume is Bucky’s tent, as the tent is larger than most you had previously been in. The room is decorated with not only a make-shift fire place, rugs and a bed but a table covered in a worn paper map. Near the entrance, Bucky and Steve stand near the tent flaps muttering under their breath to each other.

Nat had flicked your hair over your shoulders so they covered your breasts, huffing as she tried to pull the shirt over your head. Only then did your body go rigid, a sudden energy rushing through your veins as you tense in fear. You were unsure if it was muscle memory that triggered the fight or flight, or your feverish brain finally kicking into motion.

“Nat stop,” You suddenly speak up. Your voice is gravelly and weak, Nat only chuckling in response and half in relief like she was glad you were suddenly revived.

“I’ve seen you naked before.” She replied light-heartly, as if thinking that were the issue. Your hands twisted around your body, trying to weakly locate her hands to stop her as she dragged the shirt further up your back.

“Nat–” You start weakly, but are cut off by her sudden stiffness. A gasp leaves her, shirt finally risen past your shoulders where your entire back was exposed to her eyes. You squeeze your eyes closed, swallowing back defeated tears. How many weeks, months had you kept it hidden? Everytime you bathed you always made sure your long strands of hair obscured your back from vision. You didn’t want them to know, you knew it would bring up too many questions. Questions you wouldn’t want to answer.

“Nat, please–” you begin to beg, eyes flickering open once more but you know it is pointless. You don’t even have to turn to face her to know her eyes would be laced with horror.

Your back was a reminder, at least that's what your father called it. A reminder of who you were, what you were and even after you became something new, it would remind you that you were always a weak, magic-using commoner. It was bold for the horde to assume that just because you were the dukes blood, that he wouldn’t treat you with the same cruelty that he treated all his prisoners.

Your back was lined with scars, some fresher than others. Each white line arced across your once smooth skin, some flat and sharp, other raised and gnarled like the knots in a tree. They overlapped each other, months of suffering and hatred forever carved into your skin. A reminder of who you were. A reminder of who your father was. A reminder that despite everything, the scars inflicted across your back was not the worst pain, the worst trial you would face. No, what your father had planned for you was far worse. And you could not escape.

“Bucky, look at this.” Nat calls out, distress laced in her tone. Your head dips in defeat, too weak to fight back as the two warriors walk over with curiosity. Nat holds the shirt firmly up, not allowing you to squirm and hide it as you flinch away from Bucky’s sudden closeness as he crouches beside you.

Both him and Steve are wordless, exhaustion tugs at your bones as you focus on trying to hold yourself up-right and breathing steadily while their eyes rake over the exposed scars. Your eyes see Bucky’s fists first, balled up and grown white with strain as he clenches around the fur of the rugs. Your eyes slowly shifted up, over his forceps where veins bulge, across the furred cloak draped over his shoulders before finally resting on his face. And to your surprise, his expression wasn’t one of disgust or pity. Instead it was one of rage.

Bucky’s eyes snap to yours, the burning hatred swirling beyond the blue softening slightly as he takes in your defeated, muddy face. “Who did this?”

You bite back a laugh at the absurdity of it all. “Who do you think?”

“But why? You are his daughter, his blood–”

“You really think that would have stopped him? Stopped his cruelty? He did it not only because he enjoyed it but because he hated me.” You reply, letting the bubble of anxious laughter finally leave your chest. You feel as if hysteria has finally gripped you, you’re unsure if you’re sobbing or laughing as Steve’s fingers tenderly brush over the scars.

“You’re still hiding something.” Bucky states, fingers finding your chin as he forces you to look at him. You bite your tongue, laughter falling silent as you gaze up at him. His look is softer than any he had ever given you. He gazed upon you with that tenderness, as if asking how he could help you, rather than demanding information from you like a captor and hostage.

“I will tell you, but you have to promise me something.” You say to him, gaze momentarily flickering to your mothers knife that still hung from his belt, like the first day you had met. His gaze follows yours, a deep frown flickering over his features.

“Promise you what?” He asks, beside you Steve and Nat are silent, breaths drawn in anticipation.

“No matter what happens, you must kill me. Let the fever take me, slit my throat, I do not care. You must ignore the ransom, you must kill me because I would rather die than return to him.”

“Why?” Bucky asks, he sounds breathless.

“Promise me.” You insist.

“I will promise after you tell me why.”

“I need you to promise first Bucky.” Your voice grew into desperate rasps, fists curling around the fur rugs beneath you as you leaned closer to him. A silence grows in the tent as Bucky seems to contemplate his next words.

“Promise me.” You demand, tears threatening to surface.

“I won’t kill you.” He states simply, unable to meet your eye as a noise of anguish leaves your lips.

“Why? Why won’t you just kill me!” You were now edging on shouting, limbs trembling. “Do you know how long I have suffered? Do you not understand that I am done with all of this?”

The three warriors were silent once again, Steve and Nat glancing towards Bucky whose lips pressed together in a concerned frown, yet he continued to deny the promise you demanded. You had thought for a moment that maybe he cared when he brought you in here, that perhaps a part of him felt sorry for all the cruel words he had spoken. Once again, you had the crawling sensation of defeat lingering in your chest, a feeling that you had been tricked or deceived into thinking you could be saved.

“That day you took the manor, I was moments away from slitting my own throat in my fathers drawing room.” A sound half-way between a sob and a laugh bubbling in your chest. “I thought that the horde coming there was some kind of sign, some kind of intervention by fate.”

“What?” Steve asks in disbelief. Your eyes flutter upwards, as if tempting fate itself to strike you down for your foolishness.

“I didn’t go through with it, but now I can see that was a mistake.” You utter.

Only in that moment does Bucky finally offer up a noise, sighing heavily through his nose. Your eyes remain transfixed on the ceiling of the tent. You fear that if you look down that tears would spill, instead most of your focus going into controlling the fever chills that shook your fragile frame.

“If you won’t tell me your reasoning, I cannot promise you anything.” Bucky says. Your eyes finally flutter down, locking in a tense stare with Bucky’s.

“I suppose we are at a standstill.” He states, getting to his feet. “I cannot help you if you will not tell me.”

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes series #marvel au #marvel fic #marvel #fantasy au #the horselords of naraik

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