#may or may not come included with his very own riddle

[illbegottenfaith]

lucky pt 3 - theo nott x reader

Theo doesn’t seem to care about you, and you can only lie to yourself that it doesn’t bother you for so long

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

a/n - the final part! so happy to finally write a happy ending :’) wasn’t planning on writing this until my finals were over but um here we are 🙈

tropes/warnings - tw smoking, a lil slapstick comedy ft the other slytherin boys, slight platonic hurt/comfort, angst, soft ‘smut’ (quite mild idt it warrants an 18+ tag)

word count - 3.4k

Two can play a game.

A week had passed since you submitted your Potions project, and after that one night of Theo staying up to help you, things went back to going from bad to worse. What were once paltry tiffs had now disappeared altogether. Theo attended and left lessons as if you didn’t exist. And you supposed you didn’t. At least, not to him.

Ivy worried over you, bless her. She’d noticed how listless and distracted you’d gotten, how much more prone you were to staying holed up in your room, how exhausted you seemed by the most mundane tasks. But this was something even she couldn’t help with. No one could help, you decided mournfully, resting your head against your dorm’s cool window pane. So here you were, staring out the window at 6.30 am on a Monday morning with irritated and aching eyes after a restless night of tossing and turning.

That was when you decided that the only thing there was to be done in a situation like this was to do what you did best - going head-to-head with Theodore Nott. He wasn’t the only one who could play at being emotionally avoidant, and it would be a cold day in hell before you let Theodore Nott best you in anything, including this.

And ignore him you did. You didn’t know or care if he noticed, but soon your already limited interactions became highly unabsorbing and apathetic. You barely acknowledged him in your shared classes. You matched every careless toss of his head with one of your own. As little as Theo cared, you could care even less. 

Finals came and went. The morning after your last paper Ivy came barging into your room, demanding you come for an end-of-semester gathering by the Great Lake the next day. No amount of begging or burying your head in your pillow seemed to deter her. She was determined to see you there even if she had to drag you out herself, the recluse that you had become. She finally left after you very unsportingly relented and unsuccessfully tossed a book at her head.

You were already regretting being worn down by the next morning when you were deciding what to wear. Was Theo going to be there? Not that it mattered. You weren't about to pick an outfit around a guy who may or may not be present.

You met Ivy and Katie near the castle entrance and once you started walking down to the lake, you started feeling better about your decision. The weather was surprisingly cooperative and it was perfect picnic weather, if a little windy. It was a little early, only shortly after breakfast, and the refreshments were still being set up. From the few that had already arrived, it seemed to be a rather intimate gathering of mostly familiar faces. If you were especially lucky, Theodore Nott might not make an appearance at all.

You watched a group of Slytherin boys flail and struggle to set up a folding picnic table and put a sheet over it. Enzo Berkshire had flopped onto the table to stop the sheet from flying off while the table groaned underneath his weight. Draco Malfoy was crossly telling him off and trying to get him to stand while Mattheo Riddle stood a little to the side, still frowning over the table's instructions. Draco had now moved onto threats when there was a terrible creaking sound and the table collapsed under Enzo.

"I was just about to say," Matheo started offhandedly, while Enzo moaned pitifully, "I don't think we put the table together right."

"I told you we should have waited for Theo."

Speak of the devil.

“Ladies,” Theo drawled from behind, in his appealingly lazy accent. You turned to see Theodore in a relaxed button-down folded at the elbow, wearing a simple but likely designer pair of black sunglasses, holding a red solo cup. You instinctively glanced at his tanned forearms before snapping your gaze back to his face. Did he notice? It was hard to tell with the sunglasses.

“Hi, Theo,” Ivy said awkwardly when you stubbornly refused to respond. “What's that you got there?”

"Punch. Enzo had me taste test it."

"Oh. Is it good?"

He gave a wry smile. You wanted to roll your eyes. You had no patience to tolerate his irritating posh affectations.

"A little strong for my taste, but it'll do."

"Have you seen Ivan?"

He waved his hand carelessly. “He’s…around.” He turned, peering in the distance. “Right. There he is, by the steps. He’s bringing the drinks.”

“I’ll go help him!” Before you could reel Ivy back in and threaten her to stay with you, she was already halfway down the path, heading straight for her boyfriend. You scowled, your impassive mask shattering. You turned back to see Theo grinning at you with his stupidly mysterious sunglasses and you shot him a dirty look. 

“Nice weather we’re having, hm?”

You schooled your features and shrugged noncommittally. The silence stretched unbearably between the two of you. Theo vaguely gestured to the boys with his cup.

“I should help them with the table."

You stayed tight-lipped, refusing to give in to the sense of camaraderie he seemed to be trying to foster with you. After all, you weren't friends. He made sure of that.

As he set his cup down and started looking over the instructions with Mattheo, Ivy returned, drinks and Ivan in tow.

“Punch?”

You raised your eyebrows. Even from a distance, the bowl reeked of booze. Still, you accepted a cup, downing it even as your eyes watered. You pulled a face.

“Merlin, that’s awful. Pour me another.”

You ended up sitting in a cluster of lawn chairs around a picnic blanket with Ivy, Katie and some other girls in your year. You were all giddily tipsy and in very silly moods, gossiping and swapping terrible first date stories.

The drunker and drunker you got, the harder it was to pull your eyes away from Theo. After all, as your inhibitions dissolved, what was there to stop you from glaring a hole into his skull?

Not that he noticed. He was sitting some distance away with his own friends, examining the bottom of his red Solo cup disinterestedly. The other Slytherin boys were absorbed in a spirited game of Exploding Snap. In the unassuming midday sun creeping up on them, he was a refreshing sight, sleek and cool in ways mere mortals could only dream of wishing for.

You scoffed under your breath. What, were his childhood friends too boring for him? Was that it? Who the hell did he think he was, anyway? You had half a mind to strip naked and run into the lake. Maybe that would finally be captivating enough for the oh-so-hard-to-impress Theodore Nott. 

How many other girls did he help write essays for late into the night, letting them doze, holding their hand? You shook yourself. He never held your hand. He helped you with your project, brought you breakfast, and that was it. Still, your gaze stayed fixed on the back of your hand. Whatever possessed you to think he held your hand?

The sky had gotten a little cloudy. Theo pulled off his sunglasses, blinking, and cast his eyes around, looking for a place to put them. Finally, he settled on hooking them on the open collar of his shirt and looked rather pleased with himself. It was almost endearing.

Your gut told you to avert your gaze, but you didn't, and the next second his gaze was on you. For the first time in weeks, his eyes met yours, intense and unforgiving. You told yourself it was just his gaunt complexion and bruise-like eyebags, but that didn’t stop your throat from seizing with some inexplicable want. Even when he moved away to rejoin his friends, your skin tingled; your body positively thrummed with it. Any hope of playing at sanity was out the window at this point. No, you just had to accept that the two of you would always be unfinished business.

But that was it - he wasn’t playing at this like you were. This was all a pretence for you; the unaffected stares, the nonchalant nods, the afterthought smiles. This was all just you pretending you weren’t watching his every move. Pretending your attention wouldn’t stay fixed on him in a room full of burning bodies.

But he wasn’t pretending. Not for one second.

All of a sudden, you felt queasy. You were going to be sick.

"Y/N?" Ivy was saying, looking concerned as you unsteadily got to your feet. You could feel the back of your neck prickling with Theo still watching you.

"I'm - I'm fine," you slurred, fanning yourself weakly. "Stay - I'm okay. Just...s'hot. Need to -" 

You put your cup down somewhere, stumbling back to the castle as fast as you could, your head spinning as the ground wobbled dangerously under you. You weren't sure how but you somehow made it to your dorm, flung open the bathroom door and reached the toilet just as your stomach started emptying its contents. 

You vaguely registered that you had never been this drunk - it felt like you were slipping in and out of consciousness. You were only distantly aware of a familiar pair of hands holding your hair back, rubbing soothing circles on your back as you heaved. It was a cathartic kind of release, a purging of all the toxic anxiety that had been festering inside of you. And just like that, a dam broke. You started crying, sobbing like the world was ending, slumped against your best friend.

“Oh, Y/N…”

“I don’t understand,” you choked out, leaning your forehead against the tiled bathroom wall. “Why doesn’t he like me anymore? Why does he h-hate me?”

Ivy delicately smoothed some of your unruly hair down. “He doesn’t hate you, honey.”

“I’m not a k-kid, Ivy," you hiccuped. "You don’t have to lie to protect my feelings.”

Ivy hugged you close as you sniffled. “I’m going to kill that asshole if Ivan doesn’t beat me to it.”

“No,” you said in a shaky voice, gingerly sitting up. “Promise me you won’t tell Ivan.”

“Y/N - “

“They’re friends! I don’t want to spoil that for him.”

“Trust me, if he knew what Theo was doing, he wouldn’t be feeling all that friendly.”

“Don’t, Ivy,” you pleaded. “This is just…it’s just between us. I’m fine, I swear.”

Ivy looked highly unconvinced. You let out a frustrated sigh.

“Look, at least give me a week to work through this on my own, alright? Then you can sic your boyfriend on Nott.”

“You’ve already had your week. Weeks, in fact.”

“Ivy.”

She pursed her lips. “Fine.”

You felt a lot more sober after throwing up. But you still weren't feeling up to returning to the party, so once you finally managed to shake Ivy off, you wandered the deserted halls of Hogwarts. Just like that one evening lifetimes ago, when Mattheo had insinuated Theo might have a thing for you in the library, you ended up at the Astronomy Tower.

It was peaceful. You could see why Theo liked to come up here to think. You looked up as you heard a scuffling sound from behind one of the pillars, near one of the stone arch windowsills. You walked over to find Theo sitting there, smoking, his long legs barely fitting across the length of the window. He didn't expect to see you either, if the way the cigarette was dangling from his lips was any indication.

“Put that out.”

It was the first thing you had said to him in weeks. You felt almost as surprised as he looked. He started, as if he had forgotten about the cigarette, and took another puff.

“I said,” you started again, half-heartedly raising your voice, “put that out.”

It was weak and unsurprisingly ineffective. If Theo picked up on what it truly was, a plea for normalcy, he didn’t let on.

Your already thin patience snapped. You stalked over, stealing the cigarette from his lax fingers. What you weren't expecting was Theo's fingers closing around your other wrist and firmly pulling you down to press his mouth hard against yours. It was a clumsy mess of teeth and tongues as you ungracefully reached for his arms to steady yourself. His grip lessened when he got the inkling you weren't about to pull away and sock him in the jaw. His hands drifted to your waist as the two of you fumbled for a more proper kiss. You could taste the lingering salt of the cigarette and your senses felt overwhelmed by the distinct feel of Theodore Nott.

“Tesoro -“ he wheezed, twisting away from where your hand had dropped to his bicep, the smouldering cigarette having singed through his shirt.

“Shit, sorry. How do you -?”

Theo plucked the cigarette from your hand and dropped it on the floor, grinding it with the heel of his shoe. He looked up to where you were still hovering above him before pulling you down into his lap by your hips. He grabbed your wrists, placing your hands on his shoulders, and you had to bite back a smile over how adorably particular he was.

“Telling me where to place my hands? And I thought I was the bossy one.”

Theo quirked an eyebrow. "Maybe I'm just sick of waiting." He tipped his head back against the rough stone wall. "And...wanting."

You smoothed a thumb across his collarbone, not missing the way he shivered under your touch. “So what do you want, Nott?”

He tipped you forward, kissing you much more properly this time. You didn't bother pulling much away as you broke apart, whispering with your faces inches away.

“We're actually doing this.”

“Seems so.”

He cupped your face, swiping a thumb under your eyes as his expression flickered.

“Were you…crying?”

You sniffed, dragging his hand off your face, and looking away. "Just - allergies."

Theo blinked, watching your face with a stunned (and slightly dumb) expression as if you hadn't said anything.

“But you never cry.”

You gave a bitter smile. “Congratulations, Nott. You’re officially the first person to ever reduce me to tears.” You desperately hoped he would drop the subject. Just talking about it was enough to make you want to start sobbing again.

"Did someone say something to you? I swear I - it's not because of me, is it?"

Your face crumpling was the only confirmation he needed. “It was like you - I don’t know. Like you hated me, or something.”

Theo captured your hands in his own where they had slid down to his chest. “I….hate you?”

“Or something. Probably the something.”

“But - why? How? If anything, I’d say you hated me.”

Your lips parted as your brow furrowed. “What gave you that idea?”

“What gave me the - I don’t know, all the scowling? The glaring? The snide remarks? The bodily harm?”

You flushed at the memory of the Potions storeroom incident. You could kind of see his point. “That was one time.”

“You owe me new pants, by the way. New pants and a new di-“

You muffled his rant with a kiss and instantly felt him relax beneath you, the tension and annoyance draining from his limbs as he moulded your body to fit more perfectly against his. So eager, so insistent, so different from the past couple of weeks. 

“I don’t know," you started once you pulled away. "This felt worse than hate. It felt like…like you couldn’t even be bothered to hate me." You swallowed hard, eyes fixed on where you were fidgeting with the edge of his shirt's collar. "As if that was how little you thought of me.”

"Mia cara," he sighed, almost dejectedly. "Small is the last thing I think of you." He ran a hand through his hair frustratedly, searching for the right words.

“I’m not good at expressing…fondness.”

“No. You don’t say.”

He wet his lips. You could see the smile he was holding back.

“I’m not good at being honest or direct. Everything - my mind, it’s a mess, it’s always about what I want, and how to get what I want, I never - I never meant to make you feel that way."

Maybe it was still all part of some elaborate scam. But sitting there with the rough stone arch digging into your sensitive skin, the distant scent of holding Theo's face in your hands like he was moonlight, you believed him. You didn't even have to try. You just did.

“I’m not used to playing the part of the fool, bella. But when I see you smile, or read, or fiddle with your hair…" He reached out to free the lock of hair you were nervously tugging on, "...I never feel more foolish.”

"I don't think I've ever hated you either, for the record," you said, smoothing out his shirt where you had crumpled it in your fists. "I might have thought I did, but..." you trailed off, looking into his mesmerisingly blue eyes. No, you decided softly, you never could hate the boy.

"I never thought anything could come of us. You were - you are - so brilliant. You're on the road to brilliant things. I was only going to get in the way. And...I don't think I could live with myself if I did." He glanced up and, seeing the crestfallen look on your face, hastily amended his statement.

"That, and you had no patience for pretty boys.”

You scoffed half-heartedly. “I have no patience for you, either.”

Theo grinned, shifting you up his lap, as if you could never be close enough to him. He looked so carefree you couldn’t hold back a small smile of your own. “You keep me so humble.”

“I try.”

The two of you stayed like that for a while, tracing burning expanses of skin, staring at each other like you could never get your fill. You’d occasionally press soft kisses down his neck and jaw while his hands would drift up your ribcage or down your thighs. Both of you moved at an unhurried pace, because now you had all the time in the world to have and hold each other.

“It’s getting late,” you murmured, hours later, now tucked into Theo’s side as you lightly traced shapes on his chest. It was pleasantly warm and given the late hour, you could feel your eyelids growing heavier. When he didn't respond, you lifted your head.

Beneath you, Theo breathed deeply and evenly, looking half-asleep. You rolled your eyes and gave him a hard jab in the ribs.

“Hey. Nott.”

Theo grunted, stirring, swatting your hand away. You grinned to yourself - annoying Theo would never lose its appeal. Eyes still closed, his hand haphazardly searched for you to once again pull you against him. You ignored his efforts, deliberately unhelpful.

“You need to pick another name, y’know. This whole last-name business isn’t going to fly as my girlfriend.”

You felt yourself unreasonably perk up over his words. “Your girlfriend? Me?”

He cracked an eye open. “I thought the exclusivity thing was obvious. You're a serial monogamist.”

“Yeah, but you’re not.”

Theo groaned, too tired to keep up with you. He rolled you onto your back and propped himself up with a forearm. You giggled softly, flustered by the heat in his gaze.

“Then I guess you’re lucky I like kissing you the best, amore.”

He dropped his head, and you got the distinct impression you could never tire of the feel of his hands and lips on you. 

“What were you saying before?” Theo inquired, while his hands continued their distracting exploration under your clothes.

“It’s late.”

“Right.”

“You have Charms right after breakfast. We should,” your breath hitched, “um, go to bed.”

Theo grumbled something in the crook of your neck, sending the most delicious vibrations down your spine.

"Fine," you sighed, encircling your arms around his neck. "Five more minutes."

He barely made it in time for Charms the next morning.

[silentcutekitten]

I'm in a pretty bad depressive slump right now, been super hard to even get the energy to draw anything, but I'm slowly getting out of it!

Anyways have this silly little doodle, I regret buying this plushie from that shady-looking guy in that alleyway because he keeps telling me riddles nonstop and asking what my WiFi password is

This Riddler design belongs to @retrovrt, go check out their really cool Batman AU!!!! And thanks for the awesome design, he's fun to draw ;3

Based on that haunted Astolfo bean plushie meme!

[pomefioredove]

hello hello! i see that the headcanon requests are open, so i have arrived 🐺🐺 i'd like to request the housewardens + chenya, neige and ortho with a reader that's mute! i feel like this would be an interesting thing to go off of. feel free to write it as something reader gained after a certain event, or as an illness that they were born with. platonic would be great, but i think romantic would be absolutely adorable too (minus ortho obviously) so go wild, do whatever you want >:) if this is fine for you to write of course!! love your writing, youre my favourite blog on tumblr hehe (runs away)

thank you so much!! and ofc ofc. I'm writing this based off my own experiences with being semiverbal so if I get something wrong,,, that's on me 😔

summary: nonspeaking reader type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, che'nya, leona, azul, kalim, vil, neige, idia, ortho (platonic), malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

I think Riddle is more adaptive than others give him credit for

it's not like there's any rule about not speaking

(and if there was, he would make an exception for you. he's not completely unreasonable)

I can see him learning sign language with you

and if that's not your thing, he'll figure something else out

he's a fast learner, after all

and he wants to make you comfortable, too. not that he'd ever outright admit it...

(obvious favoritism)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Che'nya is always quick on his feet

or... on air?

anyway

that means that he isn't one to let the absence of conversation stop him from his usual mischief

and he does love charades...

it's almost like he can read your thoughts. or your... hands? expressions?

whenever someone is giving you a hard time, they miiight just end up talking back to a floating head

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona actually never really... brings it up

before he had the full story, he just figured you were shy around him

(which went straight to his head, of course)

so he was already used to it when he found out it's not something you can control

and... he treats you no different for it

he knows you're not stupid or rude just because you're not yapping all the time

and if anyone else gave you a hard time about it... they'd be answering to him

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

no worries with Azul

I mean, the guy can really do it all

sign language, pen and paper, text-to-speech, body language...

he's rather adaptable, and, trust me, being unable or unwilling to speak won't stop him

the offer to give you the voice of a beautiful singer is still on the table... but he can't blame you for not taking the deal

of course

in the meantime, you can come to him for anything and he'll help you out

on the house <3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Kalim's heart is in the right place

is he disappointed you won't be able to talk and sing and cheer with him? a little

you're used to the disappointment, unfortunately

but he doesn't give up so easily

or... at all

no singing? he's handing you an instrument

no talking? no problem, he knows you're still listening!

no hummin, shouting, cheering? he can make enough noise for the both of you

he makes sure you're included in everything

very sweet

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil has high expectations, but he isn't unreasonable

if you can't talk, you can't talk, and that's final

that doesn't excuse you from everything else in his strict regimen, though

what may be a weakness to others is a strength to him

you can improve yourself tenfold by focusing on what you can do rather than what you can't

writing, dancing, music...

however you choose to express yourself, he's very supportive

much like Kalim, he includes you in every conversation, every decision, every yes/no question

he's pretty great

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Neige! Neige is a sweetie

I like to think of Neige as someone who's actually quite timid in person, despite his career

it's probably your quietness that draws him to you in the first place

he is so very supportive

he's the kind of introvert to suddenly become extroverted when someone needs help

"excuse me, they asked for no pickles" type of guy

he'll hold your hand through everything if you need it, and remain by your side if you don't

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ortho and Idia are probably the best people to have on your side

Idia just feels so much more... comfortable around you, since he struggles with speaking, himself

he'll let you use his tablet if you need it to speak

...and then he'll get you one of your own, so he doesn't have a heart attack when you accidentally switch tabs

he'll even program a custom voice or two for you

Ortho is a walking translator for you

with a database full of information on body language and expression, he can determine your emotional state in a single glance

he's happy to help in any way he can, of course!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

at some point, Malleus needs a shirt that says "#1 Prefect Defender"

you haven't said a single word to him but if anything happened to you he would curse everyone in this room and then himself

(he means well, I promise)

he's never minded, nor questioned your silence

certain fae communicate through lights or movement rather than sound, so it isn't even anything strange to him

you fit right in at Diasomnia

and you're welcome to stay here for as long as you please

(hint hint)

[amongemeraldclouds]

The Slytherin Boys as Disney Princes

Ft. Theodore Nott, Mattheo Riddle, Blaise Zabini, Tom Riddle, Draco Malfoy, and Lorenzo Berkshire. Also features x f!Reader as their equivalent Disney princesses.

© amongemeraldclouds I do not consent to having my work shared or reproduced elsewhere. Please do not claim as your own, tumblr is the only place I share my written work.

✿ Masterlist | 1.8k words

From the Wizarding World to magical fairytales, let’s crown our beloved Slytherin boys as the following Disney princes:

Theodore Nott as Prince Charming (Cinderella)

Note: Prince Charming doesn’t have much personality in the original 1950s film, but we learn more about him in later films, where I drew information from.

✭ Raised in privilege as a prince, Theodore Nott lived a very charmed life just as the name Prince Charming suggests.

✭ With only royals and commoners to distinguish class, he is less prejudiced and more accepting of others. His father taught him at an early age that they have a responsibility to their people just as their people serve them.

✭ Because of this, he is open and friendly to everyone, including animals. He was once hunting down a deer only for it to be a game in the end, him and the deer are actually friends. (Note: Yes this is canon Prince Charming and is very Theo as well.)

✭ If Disney were less wholesome, Theo as Prince Charming would have regular lovers, but it will only always be physical. He has not yet found a connection with anyone, but it doesn’t matter because he enjoys sex. He certainly never runs out of women to sleep with.

✭ Beneath all the charm, he secretly hopes to find a love match. The kind of relationship that transcends strategy and status. He longs for passion and romance, much like in the books he reads in the castle’s library, though he’ll never let anyone know.

✭ His father in the meantime is keen to see him married to an eligible maiden so he threw a ball. He rolled his eyes and yawned when no one was looking, initially bored because he still couldn’t find the connection he longed for. At this point, he doubted he’d ever find it. 

✭ Then he met you. You in your light blue dress and glass slippers. Everything about you sparkled and it ignited something in his heart. He never knew romantic love before you, but he recognized it right away.

✭ He wouldn’t care that you were a commoner, he’d admire your courage and kindness once he got to know you. Besides, true love was far more valuable than any precious metals and gems.

✭ After you ran off, your glass slipper gave him hope. He was going to stop at nothing to find you, his true love.

Mattheo Riddle as Flynn Rider (Tangled)

⋆☀︎. Left to his own devices, Mattheo Riddle would go on countless adventures across different kingdoms and forests, thieving only as a means to an end so he could survive. 

⋆☀︎. He enjoys the rush, being chased by the authorities and not being held down by rules or responsibilities. (Except they can never get his damn nose right on Wanted signs despite the distinct cut he has on the bridge of his nose iykyk.)

⋆☀︎. With his charming personality and irresistible smolder, he’s an expert in banding together with fellow criminals and often smooth talks his way into ladies’ beds. All temporary partnerships for his on-the-go lifestyle.

⋆☀︎. Until one day he comes across you, the girl with golden hair and big eyes — not to be underestimated with your ferocious pan wielding tendencies. He learns the last part a little too late, the hard way.

⋆☀︎. As he promised to take you to see the floating lights in exchange for the crown, he finds himself having fun swinging his fists and learning about your power to bring out the good in people.

⋆☀︎. You managed to charm tough guys in a bar, getting them to talk about their dreams—of being a florist, of performing on stage, and of falling in love. He realizes it may not be so bad to go on adventures with someone else.

⋆☀︎. He was already mesmerized before he learned about your magical hair. He saw the light within you long before that enchanted night when lanterns floated through the air like stars hung low just for you. And of course, they were always meant for you.

⋆☀︎. Before Mother Gothel could plunge the weapon in him, he already knew he was a goner. He knew he could never go back to who he was. He was now and forever going to be a moth to your flame, your soul as radiant as the sun even long after your golden hair turned brown.

Blaise Zabini as Kristoff (Frozen)

•❅*ִ Much like Kristoff, Blaise Zabini exudes a quiet confidence that does not need to declare itself.

•❅*ִ As an ice harvester who works with ice picks, hooks and ropes, he has an athletic build and a tough exterior, but do not be fooled for he has a soft heart within.

•❅*ִ Having grown among trolls and reindeers, he sometimes gets frustrated when interacting with people. He believes reindeers are better than people, but all that changes when he meets you.

•❅*ִ He is very practical and honest, but when he is blunt he often means well. He is quick to call you out on the fact that you’re about to marry a man you hardly know.

•❅*ִ He initially agrees to help you end winter to save his ice business and get a new sled. However, the more challenges you face together, he grows to admire your fearlessness and determination.

•❅*ִ While you initially find him to be annoying, you soon discover his charming and funny side.

•❅*ִ He will however suppress his feelings for you, thinking it’s better to let it go because you’re already engaged anyway. But when truths are revealed and no one is who they appear to be, you’ll melt his frozen heart with a kiss on the cheek.

Draco Malfoy as Li Shang (Mulan)

✿ To Draco Malfoy, loyalty and family legacy is important, just like Li Shang who aims to be just as great as his father, the head of the Imperial Chinese Army.

✿ He is disciplined and has mastered both physical and strategic ways of waging war. He has a lot of traditional beliefs, including making a man out of his troops using elaborate physical training.

✿ He starts questioning those beliefs when he sees your determination as Ping, using both weights to climb up the pole even though it took you countless failures throughout the night. What were these confusing feelings in his chest?

✿ Yet he couldn’t deny it, nor would he try. He was ready to lay his life down for you even before you saved him. It didn’t take him long to return the favor when he found out you were a woman and so he spared your life.

✿ Despite his firm upbringing, he was always loyal to his heart. Even though you betrayed the army, he knew your intentions had been good and that your hard work made you a skilled soldier.

✿ He listened and trusted your last ditch efforts to save the Emperor, even resorting to cross dressing as part of the plan. It all paid off as you saved the Emperor and all of China. 

✿ In the end, you were absolved of your deceit and honored for your heroism, finally letting your reflection show who you are and what you’re made of. Your final crime was stealing his heart.

Tom Riddle as Aladdin (Aladdin)

✶ Tom Riddle grew up as an orphan and resorted to a life of crime to survive in Agrabah. Secretly, he enjoyed it too.

✶ Smitten by your beauty, he saved you from a merchant at the market and he was impressed with your agility when it came to dodging the authorities.

✶ When you reached Aladdin’s home, you revealed you were from the palace and left thinking you’d never see him again. He longed to visit the palace to get another glimpse of your beauty.

✶ Named as a diamond in the rough, Jafar recognized Tom’s talent and recruited him to steal the magic lamp from the Cave of Wonders. Encouraged by the promise of riches (therefore power) and a subconscious need to please Jafar, he takes on the task, saving a magic carpet in the process.

✶ Back at the palace, your father sought to marry you off to find a successor to his throne. You met suitors, including a flashy prince called Ali from Ababwa.

✶ On a magic carpet ride, you trick Ali into admitting he’s the thief you previously met at the market. He manipulates you into thinking he’s the prince and the thief persona was just an act for him to get to know the city better.

✶ When Jafar uncovers Tom’s identity, he steals the magic lamp and wreaks havoc using the genie’s wishes. Understanding Jafar’s ego, he tricks him into wishing to be the most powerful being in the universe, which imprisons Jafar in his own lamp as a genie.

✶ Instead of using his last wish to continue being the rightful prince who can marry you, he used it to free the genie, as he has now learned how power corrupts others. It wasn’t worth it.

✶ Crowned as the next sultana, you recognized how our actions and choices defined us. Despite Tom’s manipulations, he showed up and was willing to learn. He was not afraid to look into the dark and make the right decisions when it mattered, a husband fit for a ruler.

Lorenzo Berkshire as Jack Frost (Rise of The Guardians)

Before you come at me, I know Jack Frost is not a Disney prince, but I’m a Jelsa truther so here we are.

❅ Lorenzo Berkshire mirrors Jack Frost’s love for mischief and games. As the guardian of fun, he enjoys playing harmless tricks on children and hearing them laugh as a result.

❅ Beneath the playful exterior, he deeply cares for those around him, having saved his sister from a frozen lake. His ultimate sacrifice led to his untimely demise, which the Man in The Moon rewarded him by making him immortal and granting him powers. 

❅ He never found much need for romance, opting to spend his days playing with children and visiting his fellow guardians instead. Until one day, he visits the Enchanted Forest and comes across you, its mighty protector.

❅ Despite the initial distrust, he wins you over with his easy smile and sincerity. You never realized it until then, how lonely it was to be an ice queen without her king.

❅ Jack was also amazed to find someone else who could play with the magic of snow. He felt seen and understood like never before. For once, the loneliness in his heart melted away.

❅ So you spent your days together, laughing over silly jokes and exchanging stories. The cold never bothered you, but being with him made you understand why people enjoyed the sweetness of hot cocoa and why they cuddled close to a fire.

❅ Both your friends and family were happy for you. One day, Jack asked you to invite everyone so you can have a contest on who built the best sculptures. Your audience and judges comprised of Jack’s fellow Guardians, Queen Anna and King Kristoff, Olaf, and Sven.

❅ You showed off with iced gardens, towers, and even the shape of Sven, but none was more impressive as when you turned around to find Jack on one knee, a gleaming diamond in his hand. It was a picture perfect moment with ice sculptures in the background, celebrated with loved ones. 

❅ And soon, the ice queen would never be without her king.  

✿ Masterlist <- read more!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Just like how kalim embodies scarabia's mindfulness in his own way, how do you think other boys embodies their respective dorms spirit?

For the sake of ease and consistency, I will be using the official TWST localization's terms for each dorm's core value.

Please note: these are my personal interpretations; even the definitions of each dorm’s “spirit” is not explicitly defined within official TWST materials, so I’ll be running with my own definitions before covering each NRC student. Additionally, since I’ll be covering 22 characters in this post I may not have time to get into painstaking detail for each one.

***Main story spoilers (including late book 7) below the cut!!***

The Queen of Hearts' Spirit of Strictness

Literally speaking, strictness refers to following rules or beliefs exactly. There is rigid enforcement of these rules or beliefs, and very few, if any, exceptions or mercy granted.

Right off the bat, it’s easy to see how Riddle aligns with the spirit of strictness. He is the embodiment the law in Heartslabyul, serving as both judge and executioner to his students. Riddle insists that the rules—no matter how nonsensical—be followed, and he does not hesitate to unleash his wrath and collar those who step out of line. He is strictness itself. Beyond book 1, we do see Riddle trying to be more patient and flexible—however, the fact remains that he upholds rules and continues to have trouble with circumstances where he has to think independently or without a set of instructions to refer to.

Trey is known for frequently indulging others and behaving in a manner which some may call kind. The twist here is that Trey’s strictness is present in the “big brother” role he adopts when dealing with his peers. He’s generally more lenient than Riddle, but Trey often alludes to the fact that he shouldn’t be underestimated or thought of as a nice guy. There are moments when Trey gives others their comeuppance for misbehaving (such as in his dorm uniform vignettes, where he deprives first years of cake for complaining about his same-y baked goods). The thing is, most don’t see it coming because he’s typically so… nice. When he wants to be stern and put his foot down, he certainly can—it just isn’t something that happens a lot, since he’s more mild-mannered than his classmates.

Cater is strict with his public image, specifically how his peers view him. This is most obviously seen in his obsession with social media. He's constantly taking pictures and posting, being heavily involved on Magicam—a space where he can control the narrative about the type of person he is and the life he has. Cater keeps up this front in real life as well, acting cheery and sociable with his classmates while masking a far less motivated and sad side to his character. (This is implied in his Lab Wear vignettes, where a mandrake he infuses with his own magic becomes gloomy and huddles into itself.) There are occasions when Cater expresses that he is lonely or that he wishes he had more friends growing up, but he never fully opens up about his true nature. He strictly keeps that part of himself locked up tight and is seemingly afraid of what others would think of that persona.

Like Cater, Deuce is strict with himself. In Deuce's case, this arises from a past of delinquency and the desire to reform and to be an honors student that his mom can be proud of. Because of these goals, Deuce tries very hard to excel in class (but often falls short) and to behave in a way that he believes honors students would. This means changing the way he looks (he let his natural hair color come back in; it used to be bleached blonde), the way he speaks (not using foul language), the way he dresses, and, most importantly, the way he acts. Of course, his temper gets the best of him at times and his delinquent self bubbles back up (like in book 1 when the eggs were ruined), and Deuce is currently working on better repressing that.

Ace is probably the most carefree and the least stereotypically "strict" of the Heartslabyul group. Instead of having a focus on enforcing rules, Ace is usually the one breaking or defying them. How, then, does he embody the Queen of Hearts' spirit of strictness? I believe it comes through in some of Ace's most iconic scenes: the ones where he is calling others out on their bull crap. Time and time again, it's Ace that is bluntly telling others what they're doing or saying is hypocritical or wrong, or that they haven't truly taken accountability. He does this no matter who he is facing, be that his own dorm leader (book 1), an undead bride (Ghost Marriage), or Malleus Draconia himself (Endless Halloween Night). Ace has his own set of morals and beliefs, and he speaks them loud and clear without imposing as harshly as Riddle does.

The King of Beasts' Spirit of Persistence

Persistence is when one continues their course of action in spite of difficulty or opposition. In other words, there is an obstacle in the way of achieving a goal, and one persists in the face of that obstacle.

Leona is a somewhat strange case to make for persistence because initially he comes off as a very lazy character. We quickly learn that though he appears unmotivated, he’s comfortable scheming and thinking multiple steps ahead to cut out difficult or unnecessary work. There’s no doubt that Leona has had a challenging childhood, feeling like he was always being compared to his brother and never recognized for his own talents. We feel the effects of Leona losing this hope as late as book 6, when Leona says that Jamil is capable of change, unlike himself. Some fans even speculate that Leona’s dialogue implies he has fallen into depression as a result of frequently being dismissed and put down in spite of his efforts to be seen. Even when Leona is dealing with such trauma, he cooks up a plot to return his dorm to glory and to support its future. He, the lowly second born prince, wants to prove himself and his team of misfits, as being worthy of respect and admiration. When the plans fall through, Leona is quick to give up (which seems to go against the idea of Savanaclaw’s persistence). However, I would say this is part of his character growth in book 2. Later in the main story, Leona also throws in the towel quickly—but it doesn’t contradict his development; he knows when to strategically retreat in book 6.

Ruggie comes from an extremely impoverished background. He has had perhaps the least “cushy” life out of the entire NRC cast. Even so, Ruggie was able to study and work hard enough to earn decent grades, get multiple part-time jobs, and pick up many useful survival skills. He’s street smart and knows that what he lacks in strength he can make up for by sticking to someone who is strong (Leona). (Their relationship is mutually beneficial!!) Ruggie knows that just having money isn’t sustainable in the long run, so he’s hauling ass now to make something of not only himself, but also for all the people in the slums.

Jack embodies persistence through the events of book 2. At first, Jack tries to get Leona to see reason by letting him know that he genuinely is a figure Jack admires. He’s put in a moral dilemma when Leona argues that even if they play dirty, he has good intentions. If Jack interferes, he is messing with the future job prospects of his dorm members. Jack wrestles with the question before ultimately coming to the conclusion that he has to tell others about it—and, what’s more, put his own pride as a lone wolf aside to confront Leona and stop to his machinations.

The Sea Witch's Spirit of Benevolence

Benevolence may refer to meaning well or general kindness and compassion. It involves a willingness to help others and caring for them.

Azul, being at the head of the operations at Octavinelle, passes himself off as a benevolent man who will listen to your woes and grant your wishes. In fact, he does—but at a price. The shady ring he’s running is NOT wholly benevolent; the deals can definitely come across as malevolent in book 3 (when Azul wrote the contracts in such a way that the loopholes could fuck clients over). The deals themselves (assuming no foul play), however, are neutral since both parties agree to the terms. Contracts are written with the idea that they will benefit the clients. And Azul is, of course, also seeking out benefits for himself, as that is the nature of business dealings.

Jade represents a kind of benevolence associated with acts of service. He’s Azul’s right-hand man and information broker—furthermore, much of how Jade presents himself alludes to being a butler or some other supportive role. Jade just generally behaves in a way which benefits others. He acts demure and servile, then uses the trust he has gained through service to ply what he wants out of others. Jade does it so sweetly and so expertly that his prey don’t usually notice, or willfully overlook it, being far too impressed by his abilities to fixate on his ulterior motives. This strategy works even on notoriously stern individuals such as Vil (Jade Dorm Uniform vignettes).

Floyd gives “free hugs” :) is… well, ironically, the “kindest” of the trio in a weird way. While this is highly dependent on his mood, the fact of the matter is that Floyd is the easiest to read in terms of “telegraphing” his actions. If he’s in a bad mood, he usually will not hide it. You know what you’re signing up for as soon as you see him. He also typically doesn’t put forth an effort to manipulate or to scheme like Azul or Jade would; Floyd would prefer to be direct and get it over with already. That, in a sense, is the mercy that he offers: something swift and plain to see.

The Sorcerer of the Sands' Spirit of Mindfulness

Mindfulness is a state of being aware of oneself and the present moment. A mindful individual can aknowledge and accept one’s feelings, thoughts, and bodily sensations. Mindfulness may also extend to being aware of others and perceiving their own states of being.

Kalim is not viewed as the most intelligent or crafty of leaders, but where he shines is in his ability to welcome and to bond with his dorm mates. His emotional intelligence is extremely high, which proves itself to be a useful skill in getting to know others and to earn their trust. Kalim has made a name for himself in Scarabia because he is always there to listen and lend a helping hand to his dormmates. He is unabashedly open about his own emotions too, crying when he is sad and trying hard when he is frustrated or dissatisfied. He often asks to know what is wrong when he senses upset within his classmates and wants to do what he can to rectify those situations. This is peak mindfulness--not only is Kalim acutely aware of his own emotional state, but he's also pretty consistent with sensing those in others (the one big exception here, of course, is Jamil). Sometimes Kalim can be blindsided by his own blind faith in others or his overeagerness causing him to blurt things out unintentionally. He's definitely not perfect in this regard--however, there's plenty of room and willingness to grow and to learn (something which Kalim has expressed both in book 5 and in birthday vignettes).

Jamil more readily fits in with a less savory interpretation of mindfulness. He thinks ahead and uses what he knows of others to manipulate them or put himself in an advantageous position. This notably occurs in book 4 (when Jamil plans to use the feedback of Yuu and the Scarabia members to dethrone Kalim), as well as in events (like Beans Day, where he plans to entrap Kalim when Kalim cooks a fragrant lunch that Jamil purposefully packed for him). He uses what he notices or knows about others (Azul’s shadiness, rumors about Lilia being a bad cook) to avoid interactions which could be less than beneficial to him. Jamil’s main fault is that he fails to recognize people’s strengths (something which Leona calls him out for in book 6), and instead focuses mainly on their weaknesses, shortcomings, and how those could be exploited (mostly because he’s in a position where he cannot outright act in certain ways without suffering some consequences). Jamil is aware of these potential consequences and finds or plans workarounds for them. However, he is also mindful in a more conventional sense too. He’s usually the competent one in Scarabia’s leadership and fulfills the organizational tasks that Kalim doesn’t. The duo is like sun and moon; they balance each other out.

The Beautiful Queen's Spirit of Tenacity

Simply put, tenacity is determination and endurance. One is persistent in maintaining, adhering to, or seeking something valued or desired. Each of the members of Pomefiore knows what they want, and they are stubborn in their pursuit of it.

Vil makes it clear in book 5 that he wants to win VDC/SDC, thereby proving to himself and to the world that he is capable of more than playing the part of a “villain”. He already had high standards for himself prior to book 5 (exercising, doing skincare, maintaining a healthy diet, etc.), but you can see how single minded Vil is toward this one goal. He drives his team members hard and even cancels a major job offer from his manager so he can dedicate all his time and energy into seizing the win. And how many times has Vil lost in the past??? Countless, I bet. Yet here he is, trying again and again, even when he knows that happy endings aren’t guaranteed and his efforts may not bear fruit after all.

Rook pursues any and all things beautiful!! He used to just be content admiring beauty, but with Vil’s prompting, Rook soon also found value in beautifying himself. It means Rook can also put beauty out into the world, and helps him better appreciate other works of art. This man is infamous around campus for his… admittedly creepy and unnerving habits. He follows people around, documents them in photographs, memorizes their personal details, etc. His keen eye has also earned him praise though—Vil can comfortably rely on him for honest feedback, and Neige recognizes him as a dedicated member of his fan club. Rook is nothing if not determined and dedicated to his craft.

Epel is tenacious too, but in a way that Vil would not approve of in all circumstances. Epel is stubborn in his thinking and refuses to let go of his hometown roots. He’s very proud of where he comes from, so he puts up a fight with Vil when Vil demands that Epel address his upperclassmen more politely. Epel sees the command as a threat to himself, and a challenge to the hometown he loves. Additionally, it takes Epel a while to reevaluate his deeply ingrained views on gender norms. He’s all-around very strong-headed!

The King of the Underworld's Spirit of Diligence

Diligence is when one is involved in careful and persistent work or effort. This principle generally governs all of STYX, the blot research organization operated by the Shroud family. Their job is a thankless one—they do such important work, yet it isn’t recognized by the general public due to STYX’s secretive nature.

Idia, as the temporary acting director of STYX in book 6, gets involved in their research. There’s many Phantoms kept in the STYX facility, so there are many safety precautions in place and care taken to ensure no one is harmed. (Ironically, it was Idia’s lack of diligence that led to Ortho’s passing.) Outside of book 6, one can say that Idia has a diligent personality, at least when it comes to his hyperfixations. He becomes dedicated to media that captures his interests to the point where it actually incentivizes him to leave his room (Ghost Marriage) and overcome his meek stutter to speak confidently and lecture people (first Halloween event, his Dorm Uniform vignettes, etc.).

I believe Ortho is diligent in being Idia’s emotional support both before and after Ortho is officially recognized as a separate student. He cheers Idia on and encourages him to touch grass socialize, wishing nothing but the best for his big brother! Ortho wasn’t always like this either; he used to be quite stiff and monotone, and had to learn how to emulate emotions by carefully observing and absorbing media. His motivation in book 6 is also fueled by diligence—Ortho worries about what he can do to support Idia’s wishes, and this is ultimately what drives him to taking over STYX and unleashing the Phantoms. Then, in Fairy Gala: What If, Ortho stubbornly tries to come up with his own ideas regarding the theme of evolution rather than rely on others for answers. He works hard to developing his own concept and is able to put on a show-stopping performance with it!

The Thorn Fairy's Spirit of Nobility

To be noble can refer to strength of character, mind, and/or literal position, birth, rank, or social status. No matter which definition you go with, I think they could all apply to the members of Diasomnia.

Regarding noble status, Malleus and Silver are both princes. Lilia and Sebek may not be nobles themselves, but they (in addition to Silver) serve royalty and have close personal connections to people in high places, be it via friends or via family. Diasomnia is very well-connected.

Beyond superficial nobility, one can say that those in Diasomnia are noble in character as well. To begin with, Lilia has sacrificed himself for his country on multiple occasions. This isn’t limited to going to battle, but also ferrying his princess’s egg to safety, traveling the world for knowledge on dragon eggs, and going so far as to give up his own life force to hatch Malleus. And what does Lilia get for all of this? Banished from the capital, screamed at, shunned—all because he is a nobody, a bat of no status. Despite this, Lilia does not become bitter nor hateful, he instead opens his heart and mind to the world and seeks to instill others with the same wisdom. Through all the tragedies he suffered, Lilia rose stronger than ever rather than sinking to the same levels as the narrow minded senators that rebuked him.

Silver is, perhaps, the most overtly noble in character. He extols the virtues of listening and getting along with others, often serving as the peacemaker between parties (typically between Sebek and their peers, but we’ve also seen Silver smoothing things out between all of NRC and diurnal fae). He also assumes the best of others and is ready to leap into action to protect them at a moment’s notice. His kind and gentle nature attracts many forest animals to him, who can likely sense the purity of Silver’s heart.

Sebek’s brand of nobility isn’t geared at others in general but rather is pinpointed on one person (that being Malleus). He is noble in the sense that he dedicates himself to his prince. It’s no secret that practically everything Sebek does is to “live up” to perceived standards so as to not shame Malleus or the Draconia royal family—from doing well academically to dressing neatly and throwing himself into training… Sebek’s passion and eagerness is what makes him stand out. It could also be said that he fiercely defends his friends and those who have earned his respect (albeit maybe not worded in the most tactful ways). That, too, in a sense, is honorable.

Finally, we have Malleus. What can be said about him that hasn’t already been said? He is the prince of a nation, so there are many people looking to him for leadership. As such, Malleus must always conduct himself in a manner that puts his country’s best face forward and expects the same of others. Indeed, he reprimands Sebek for behaving in poor taste and instructs him to apologize to Leona, the prince of another nation. However, what is most telling about Malleus is his impetus for Overblotting. He deludes himself into thinking “this is what is best for everyone”. In his mind, he frames forcing everyone into dream states so they can stay forever and have their happily ever afters as the “good” and “noble” thing to do. He’s definitely not doing this for himself, he argues, it’s a gift for everyone. And throughout book 7, Malleus tries to gaslight others into this belief too 💀 when bro’s already convinced himself of this and refuses to see otherwise—

[mrsriddlenott]

It’s Okay To Love Them Both

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader x Enzo Berkshire

Kinda from all their POVs at different times. I absolutely love this and I am putting so much work into it that it is honestly funny and I’m gonna cry when I’m done🥹😂(may have gotten carried away) not entirely proofread yet.

Warnings: Fluff,Angst,Insecurities, Manipulation(kinda ig? I don’t see it as manipulative but I wanted to include the warning for ppl who don’t share that opinion), Nicknames(Princess, Gorgeous, Petal, Little Badger, etc)

*No smut but I can make a pt2 for that if it’s wanted*

{masterlist}

This was requested a LONG time ago and I REALLY hope the person who requested it is still here or in the old Taglist, I am so sorry this took so long. My brain just was not working properly for a long time but I think I am back in my groove. I have been working on this on and off for a literal YEAR so if you are not here I am so disappointed in myself for not getting it out to you.

You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when you started to fall for both the boys, but it started so innocently, and now it felt like it was always bound to grow from the very beginning. You met Enzo first, he had been assigned your tutor at the start of term thanks to your poor Potions grade every year prior. He worked with you tirelessly as though it was more than something asked of him by the head of his house, and when you inevitably out grew the need for a tutor, he invited you to your first Slytherin party as a celebration. A party that was of course thrown by his best friend. Enzo talked about Mattheo non-stop and you just had to meet him, however when he spoke with you that fateful night, you realized the trouble you were in and you just couldn’t stay away from him, you tried at first, but it was pointless.

The more you talked with them the more you felt for them. They were so easy to be around, Mattheo made you feel safe and heard, he always stood up for you even though his reputation could have been hindered by befriending a Hufflepuff. While Enzo made you feel known, he looked at you in a way that no one had before and opened your own mind up to itself. Even though they were so clearly different, as you grew closer with them, you began to notice just how similar the two were. Mattheo tried his hardest to hide it but on the inside he was the sweet boy no one saw, and Enzo had a hidden darkness within him that no one would guess, one that helped you come to terms with your own.

“Hello Princess, I’ve got a question,” Enzo stated from your side as he caught you off guard in the corridors, ripping you out of your thoughts with his smile alone. He watched you intently with his soft, safe eyes as he waited for you to respond. He was used to your adorable shocked expression by now, he knew you somehow weren’t used to this kind of attention yet, and certainly not from Slytherins, but he just couldn’t stop coming back to you. Neither of them could, so they just didn’t.

It’s not like they sat down and planned it….well not exactly. The idea was there of course, from the second Mattheo saw you he knew he wanted you he just didn’t want to hurt Enzo and even when they soon both realized they felt the same way, it wasn’t really a conscious decision….not in the beginning anyway. They’d speak to you one after the other like a pattern of turns, and never without telling each other beforehand. Eventually they started whispering about your little chats in their dorm late at night, almost debriefing the other as they reminisced and waited for their next chance to see you. It took quite awhile for the boys to realize just how far their feelings had grown, and not only for you, their own bond had been strengthened by their shared affections and time spent solely focused on you.

“Oh….what is it?” You spoke, slightly dazed after staring into Enzo’s eyes for a few seconds too many, something he reveled in as your pupils dilated and your lips formed a smile against your will. He chuckled at your nervousness, poking his elbow out for you to take as you resumed your walk to the Library, you took it immediately, settling your palm into the crook of his arm as he took your books into his free hand.

“I was wondering if you wanted to accompany me to Hogsmeade tomorrow?” His voice was soft, calming, and comforting as he gently guided you through the tidal wave of students suddenly parting to let him through. It shocked you how not one, but two boys of such a high popularity status seemed to care so much about your presence. At first you genuinely assumed it was some joke, a prank some classmate had put them up to maybe, but after months of the two always coming back to you and getting absolutely nothing in return, you deemed yourself safe.

“Like a….?” You started, letting your sentence die out in embarrassment of being wrong, Enzo chuckled making your stomach jump as you entered the Library, “Yes Petal, I wanna take you out on a date.” He turned to face you as he set your books on the nearest study desk, taking your hand in his as he reiterated in a soft voice, “Would you like to go on a date with me? We can do whatever you like….or we can go with my plan?”

“You….have a plan?” It wasn’t like you were new to dating or having a partner, but you certainly weren’t used to said partner putting in such effort for you, making you feel as special as Enzo and Mattheo did so easily. You gulped slightly upon remembering Mattheo, would he be mad if you said yes? Or hurt? Would he care at all? Would he plan a date for you like this?

“Is that a yes?” Enzo chuckled as he watched your brows furrow upon you falling into your thoughts again, “It’s okay if you have plans or….or don’t want to join me,” He suddenly seemed very worried, his confidence faltering as you watched his face quietly.

“Of course I want to go with you Lorenzo,” He audibly sighed at your words, a warm feeling washing over him as soon as his arms wrapped around you, his head falling heavily against your shoulder as he laughed, “Had me thinking I ruined the best part of Hogwarts Lovely.” Your giggles pulled him from his hiding spot in your neck as your hands held onto his shoulders.

“No way I am for favorite thing about Hogwarts,” You laughed with a shake of your head, avoiding his eyes as you moved away to settle into your study spot. Enzo watched you from a few feet away now, observing your genuine misbelief and wondering how you could look in the mirror everyday and not see a portrait of royal standard. How you could possibly not see that he was falling madly in love with you, certainly he wasn’t that subtle was he? He’d just have to turn in up a notch then.

“I was thinking we could get a drink at the Three Broomsticks,” his voice was low and soft as he approached you again, slowly “After which I’ll spoil us with a trip to Honeydukes,” he paused, stepping closer still as you avoided direct eye contact, “Then we can eat sweets as we take a walk around the Black Lake and talk,” you gasped as his cold fingers brushed your warm skin, pulling a strand of hair behind your ear and tracing the shape of your jaw before pulling your chin up, forcing an intense eye contact, “How does that sound?” His voice was laced with his usual confidence once again as he placed his free hand on the desk, leaning into you further and towering over you with a smile. That crooked smile that was always so contagious made it impossible to stop yourself from smiling back and agreeing to the perfect date once more.

Enzo left the Library with a triumphant grin, giving you one last glance over his shoulder and throwing you a wink, reveling in your face glowing bright red. You found it difficult to suppress giggles as you tried to work on your studying, beginning to imagine your date with Enzo instead.

~~~~

It felt like you had spent days alone in the Library working on your homework, every little thought of Enzo distracting you from the work that had accumulated in your classes this week. You regretted not asking Enzo to keep you company, even though you were such a nervous wreck around him when you were alone together you just found everything to be so much easier with him there. It was like every bit of anxiety flitted away when either of your boys were there to comfort you.

“Hey Gorgeous,” Mattheo’s smooth voice derailed your train of thought as the chair behind you loudly scraped across the dusty stone floor, making you cringe as Mattheo plopped onto the creaking wood so he was sat only inches from you. “What are you stud-“ The loud shush from Madam Pince interrupted him as he laughed and held his finger to his lips jokingly, pulling his chair impossibly closer only to slowly whisper in your ear, “What are you studying?”

You tried to hide the shiver his voice sent down your spine, tingles covering your entire body before you could gain your control, “Just Transfiguration stuff, I’m almost done though,” Mattheo hums beside you, letting you silently work as he watched your very concentrated face while you wrote. He quickly became impatient however, tapping his fingers and feet to different beats you didn’t recognize as he slouched in his chair before dramatically sighing after only a few minutes and sitting up.

“Are you done yet?” He whispered, desperate for your undivided attention as he leant into you further, resting his chin on your shoulder to watch you like a lost puppy, “I’ve got something for you, ya know,” His excitement was evident in his hushed tone, making you finally turn to look at him again while he excitedly reached into his pocket with a proud smile upon getting you to look at him. He struggled momentarily, cursing under his breath as he pulled out a thin golden chain with a badger charm dangling from it.

You eyed the fine jewelry in his hand for only a split second, it was truly beautiful and your exact style, but it looked expensive and too elegant to be for you. Noticing the guilty glint in your eye, Mattheo didn’t give you the chance to deny the gift, believing it was yours already even if you wanted to throw it in the garbage as soon as he left. You would have to get used to being spoiled, he thought as he got up to delicately drape it across your neck and clip it in the back before you could ask the price or where he got it. He freed your hair from being trapped below the chain, bouncing it and fixing stray strands for you before leaving a kiss on the top of your head, “It’s almost as beautiful as you isn’t it my Little Badger?”

Your face was painted red in a matter of seconds as his hands felt up and down your arms mindlessly, his fingertips leaving tingles everywhere they touched giving you an entirely uncommon burst of confidence. You jumped from your seat with a loud thank you as your arms draped across his shoulders, letting your head rest on his toned body as his arms engulfed you in his warmth and his chest vibrated with a laugh, “You are very welcome Pretty Girl.”

Your eyes met as you pulled away from him, glossy eyes darting between his and his lips before you launched yourself forward to attack them with yours. Mattheo didn’t waste a second in returning your kiss, letting your lips meld together as he sighed against your mouth, the taste of your lips better than he could have ever imagined. Your fingers got lost in his hair, tugging at his curls and deepening the kiss, forcing him to restrain himself by gripping onto your hips tighter to keep from smashing you into the bookshelf behind him and starting a battle between your tongues. You hummed in satisfaction, your senses and thoughts lost in Mattheo as he nipped at your bottom lip making you whimper and fall farther into him. You wanted the kiss to last forever, the feeling of his hands grounding you, letting your brain focus for the first time since…..Enzo.

The image of the sweet boy who cared so much for you catching you making out with his best friend flashed in your mind, snapping you out of your pleasure as you abruptly pulled away from Mattheo with a shocked expression. Your eyes brimmed with tears at the thought of Enzo crying, hurting over you betraying him, hating you forever….you felt horrible. Your teary gaze locked with Mattheo’s before you were pushing away and grabbing your books, rushing from the Library without another word. After only a second of truly believing someone had Stupefied him, the curly headed boy tried to catch up to you, desperately calling your name before losing you in the packed corridors.

Mattheo cursed to himself as he reluctantly turned away from the direction you took and toward the Slytherin Common Room. He couldn’t stop thinking about every possible outcome this could cause, he should have said something, done something, but he was far too focused on your scent, your taste, the way you felt in his hands. He’s such an idiot, he needed to fix this, the thoughts bouncing back and forth in his mind as his legs numbly carried him through the castle.

“You need to make sure this date we planed goes well because I may have just royally screwed us” Mattheo was almost shouting as he slammed the door of his and Enzo’s shared dorm behind him, thanking the Gods that their dorm mates were off doing who knows what.

“What!? What are you talking about?” Enzo rushed forward on his bed, tossing his reading aside as he watched Mattheo’s face contort in worry. He could tell by his fidgeting hands and pacing of the room that he was truly worried there was no going back from whatever he did, and without a second thought, Enzo was standing to pull him into a hug, asking again, softer this time, “What went wrong?”

“She kissed me and I fucking kissed her back,” Mattheo snapped, slipping out of Enzo’s comfortable grasp as he pinched at the bridge of his nose, “and then she looked so sad and my mouth just would not form any words. I stood there like a fucking asshole while she was crying because I was too focused on her lips on mine.” He sighed, chewing at his thumb as he paced back and forth in the middle of the dorm.

“She kissed you though that’s a good thing, not exactly to plan, but that means she probably likes us bo-“ Mattheo was always so calm and collected, except for when it came to you, every worry that flashes through his brain about never seeing you again makes him less and less reasonable.

“I think her rushing out crying tells me otherwise Enzo,” Mattheo began to ramble, his brain was far too worried to be able to keep a single thought inside, “We need to give her space, let her have time to think before your date, she’s probably confused she….she probably doesn’t want to get hurt or or I don’t know hurt anyone else. She doesn’t know we want to be with her together….what if she thinks something bad li-like you’ll be mad.” Mattheo snapped his fingers and pointed to his best friend as though he had it all figured out, just to return to his ranting.

“Mattheo calm down, we don’t know anything yet okay,” Enzo knew that when Mattheo got like this, feeding his worries would not help, but as he continued to list off the many holes this plan had that they were just now realizing, the heavy feeling of anxiety settled into his chest.

~~~~

When the next afternoon finally came, you contemplated skipping the date entirely, telling Enzo you had plans after all, but some part of you just wouldn’t allow it. That same part controlled you as you desperately searched for an appropriate first date outfit, throwing dresses and various tops and bottoms on and off as your dorm room grew messy. “Damn Y/N/N, I knew you liked this boy but jeez….this much worry about an outfit?” Your dorm mate and best friend since First Year jokes as she strutted into the room.

“Hannah you’re a lifesaver, I need to borrow a dress, and it needs to be a good one because I already have something to apologize for.” You rambled, turning to her trunk that was always available for you to search through.

“What could you have possibly done to that boy that needs an apology? I think he very well could be obsessed with you.” She giggled, not realizing your worry as you halted your actions entirely, “Ikissedhisbestfriend” you jumbled, turning but avoiding the eyes of your best friend who only understood you thanks to her knowing you so well.

“You…wait did I hear that correctly? You- you and Riddle did what now?” Her shocked, almost excited expression had you feeling worse as you abandoned your search for a dress, flopping down onto your bed as tears welled in your eyes. “He’s gonna hate me when he finds out.” You sighed, hiding your face in your hands as the bed dipped beside you to make room for Hannah.

“Hey hey….Sweetie no rational person could ever hate you.” She sighed, rubbing the back of your hands as she pulled them from your face, “This is a grey area okay, you haven’t made a commitment to either of them and it’s clear they both want to be the one picked. You need to make a decision somehow and if they don’t want to make it easy on you this is going to get dramatic.” Your eyes met hers in confusion as tears ran down your face and onto your mattress, “I guess what I’m trying to say is….you need to make a decision either way and the only way to make the right choice is to know how they both would treat you, and the only way to find that out is to explore both options for a bit.”

“But….I don’t want to hurt them, and I want them both in my life still….I don’t know what I’d do if I made a decision and the other never spoke to me again.” Hannah gave you an apologetic smile before piping up again, “Well….it would be cruel to keep them both at your feet waiting just to never pick, you’ve got two options here, let them go and hope you meet someone else one day, or come to terms with what may happen after you do choose.”

“I’m gonna choose, I just can’t yet, I don’t wanna lose either of them.”

~~~~

Enzo’s breath catches in his throat as he sees you walking into the crowed dining room of the restaurant, the red fabric of your dress hugging you perfectly. The badger necklace he had helped Mattheo pick out rested on your chest so wonderfully he just had to comment on it. “Well isn’t this cute, where’d ya get it huh?” He asks in a teasing tone you know so well.

“Um well, I” As you start trying to speak all that can come out is sobs at the thought of hurting him, suddenly your dress is too tight and the room too stuffy, you can’t breath. “I um,” you try but once again fail. Before you can think you feel hands on your waste and your being tugged out of the busy restaurant by someone as Enzo follows. Once the door was open you rushed into the cold air and walked away from the two.

“Did i do something?” Enzo’s voice was desperate, strained to a point that you thought he was about to cry right now, “Please just tell me how I messed up so i can fix it, I promise I didn’t mean to hurt you,” His voice raised as you kept walking to catch your breath pacing back and forth before taking notice of Mattheo standing beside him.

“What are you doing here?” You spit out, not meaning for it so sound as mean as it did, you sigh as you correct your voice, tears beginning to fall again. “I’m so sorry, I thought I could pick but I can’t, I love you both and I am so so sorry.”

The boys eyes lock together immediately and as though on cue they start to laugh, they know it’s wrong, they know they shouldn’t but they can’t stop. And somehow you know it is okay and start to laugh too.

“What is wrong with you two?” You ask between tears and laughter, you must look a mess but your two best friends still stare at you as though you hung the moon.

“Petal, we want you too, you think we can chose. Us. Two of the dumbest people you have ever known.” Enzo says with a giggle as he steps up to you to kiss you tear streaked face. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner Petal, but I was planning on having Mattheo come to our little date anyway, we wanted to tell you tonight how much we want you. Together. All of us.”

Your eyes dart to Mattheo as he smiles wildly down at you, “so you’re not mad at me”

“Of course not Princess, you’re our perfect girl.” Mattheo says in a soft voice as he moves to wrap his arms around both Enzo and y/n, leaving a kiss on both their cheeks as comfort he has never felt begins to settle in his chest. He can be happy like this.

Your rapid heart beat begins to settle in the arms of your two favorite boys, your tears continue but only from happiness and the feeling of pure luck bringing you to the happiest moment of your life.

“Now, how about we finish the date we had planned for you Petal.” Enzo sates as he grabs your hand, your other quickly being grabbed by Mattheo as they begin to lead you to Honeydukes.

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[charnelhouse]

mausoleum (1)

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader (there may be more, but i'm not spoiling) Wordcount: 6K Warnings: gore. ptsd. references to captivity. implied cannibalism (no one we know and like tho). this story will be very dark, but you know a bitch likes a happy ending so buckle up. implied sex. references to suicide. there are mentions of hair. surprise at the end yay. Summary: Put on leave due to PTSD, she goes home and finds the apocalypse a really opportune distraction. A/N: Many thanks to @yeyinde and @moondirti for helping me brainstorm on this. Why am i starting a series. fml. On another note, “Slim” is just a nickname that will be explained later.

COD Masterlist

She dreamed of Kursk last night. There were hands on her as she choked on her own blood. Her eyes were swollen from the beating, and she could count the places where they had buried their blades. She was sick, her ripe-smelling injuries pulsing with infectious heat.

When she’d refused to give them information, they had done the rest for fun.

She was sitting in that chair. The cold, metal seat that became slippery from her sweat and blood. Her ankles screaming from the zip ties around the chair’s legs. Her arms wrenched so far back that she was certain the joints would pop. 

Go far away in your head. Go somewhere else. Go be -

The room switched, and she was staring up at him. His features were riddled with shadows. Unclear.  His thick hair was dark in the damp light as it curled over his brow. He lowered his head, bare nose brushing her cheek as his full lips found purchase along her jaw. 

“You drive me insane,” he muttered into her ear as he braced his weight above her body. Behind his blurry face, the ceiling oozed. She was still in the cell. She was still there, but he was with her. She had wished for him then, and now, in the magic of her dream, he had come to hold her through the rest of it.

Save me.

Save me.

I want you to save me. I can’t do this. I can’t anymore.

She frowned, palming his chest where his heart beat furiously. Strange. His pulse never rose to such a frantic rhythm. He dropped his hips and pressed forward until he was buried inside her. It was a faraway sensation. Pressure. She felt the idea of their sex. She felt him like a memory, the ghost of his cock stretching her.

Was this the time it had happened? Was this when it took root? He gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him. He opened his mouth. “I love -

The trip wire spouted an alert, ripping her from sleep and causing her to crack her temple against the windowpane where she’d been keeping watch. She'd passed out, apparently.

Thank God, she thought. Thank Fuck.

She couldn’t have another rancid, poisonous dream about Russia. 

She rubbed the aching side of her skull, where a goose egg was undoubtedly beginning to form. She’d have to forgo pain relievers due to her own stupidity.

When had she ever fallen asleep on watch? 

The alarm from her homemade tripwire jingled again. She snatched her binoculars and pointed them toward the front entrance, where the gravel drive disappeared into shadows. Nothing. It was still twilight - violet blue, but the night fog was lifting enough for her to see fairly clearly. She readjusted her spot on the second-floor ledge before scanning the rest of the gardens, including the hedge maze and fountain. A bush shivered, and there was a flash of pink. 

Bingo.

In rainboots and her mother’s nightgown, she fled the room, ran down the stairs, and burst through the front door. It would be a nice bit of action before breakfast.

***

It must have snuck through a hedge or squeezed itself through the iron bars of the fence that lined the property. The grounds went on forever, but she doubted it had traversed the acres of endless green to land near her front door. Most of them were from nearby villages having wandered up the road like they had remembered to follow the asphalt. As she walked closer, the scent of death lingered among the lavender and moss. The air was fertile and rich, and when the breeze fluttered through her hair, it brought with it the earthy scent of wet wool and cattle from the stables. 

Against the red-pink light of sunrise, she could see the mist clinging to the lake. She could see the tiny dark spots of houses in the surrounding hills. No lights. She hadn’t seen lights up there for several months. She wondered if it had come from one of those homes, ambling down from the peaks and into her garden. 

In the quiet, you wouldn’t know what had happened. No, you’d be too focused on the sheer beauty of Northwest England. You’d realize what had commandeered Wordsworth’s attraction.

It was funny how this was the most time she’d ever spent at Ashcroft Hall. She’d never been particularly attached to her parent’s summer estate. It was beautiful. It was majestic. It was old and full of ghosts, and when she was a child, she’d been terrified to sleep alone in one of its many wood-paneled bedrooms. 

Now, she was guarding Ashcroft. Now, Ashcroft had become her port in the proverbial storm. 

She didn’t know if she loved it or hated it. She didn’t know how she felt about anything anymore.

The world had cracked. That was the only way she could visualize it. It had splintered down the center, infection cobwebbing outward to raze cities, countries, and continents. 

She supposed that she had crumpled with it. The situation in Kursk had removed a vital piece of herself that she had been unable to replace. It was only a coincidence that news stations had begun to report on the infection a month after she’d been rescued.

By then, she’d been put on leave and carted back to her parent's home to recover. No one outside of her team could look her in the eye, and that stung more than the bullets and the knives. Pity. They pitied her, and there was the distinct undercurrent that they all believed she would have been better off dead. 

As if she didn’t know that already. 

She understood why they’d kicked her out. She was a liability. She was in desperate need of therapy. She wasn’t the same, and she never would be again.

Not after Kursk. 

She spent weeks curled up in one of the Ashcroft bedrooms she’d feared as a child. She was numb - practically brain-dead on a cocktail of pills to keep her head together. She watched television. A lot of it. She saw the writing on the wall when the news became fixated on the strange behavior of the recent dead.

A young boy in Fenghuang had woken up mid-burial. 

An old woman in Sydney had sat up off her gurney. 

A famous singer had been nearly cut in half from a car accident, and there was footage of him crawling across the road. 

That image had stayed at the forefront of her mind to this day. She’d thought she was numb to violence and gore, but seeing a corpse dragging his obliterated carcass behind him had shaken her. 

Those initial days had been dark. She stopped the pills and instead focused on preparation. She had an underground contact slip into her London apartment and drive her weapons up North. She restocked her father’s armory with AK-47s, submachine guns, and sniper rifles. 

She stockpiled candles and kerosene for oil lamps. Seeds. Small livestock in addition to the horses, cows, and chickens they already had at Ashcroft. Batteries. Radios. Medications. First Aid Kits. Flashlights.

She’d been so focused on her project that it didn’t register when the rest of the world realized this wasn’t just the media exaggerating. It was real.

She hadn’t looked at her phone in a week, and when she did, she saw two missed calls and two texts. Two from Price. Two from Soap. 

Call me. 

Call me ASAP. 

But by then, the cell towers and wifi had gone out. The Eastern Seaboard twitched black as the cities fell first. Paris was overrun. New York was decimated. When London burned, she’d been forced to shut the television off. She couldn’t bear the image of it scorched and empty. She did not want to think of the pubs she had frequented with her team blackened and silent. 

Had they made it home? They were probably safe and secure on a military base. They were probably in better shape than she was.

After the major cities, the smaller areas were next on the chopping block.

There was screaming. Insistent screaming she could hear from Ashcroft. It rang out like one high-pitched musical note. Fires started. There was smoke slithering from the little towns nestled in the hills. The weather had been crisp. The sky was a raw shade of blue, and she thought it mocked her.

Society was burning, and everything else was lovely.

To make matters worse, she could not stop thinking about Kursk. She could not push it away. It caused her to swell with guilt because everything else had gone to shit, and what was her grief compared to the apocalypse. 

There came the point when she chose to bury it. She did what every therapist had warned her against doing. She took Kursk and stuffed it beneath her ribs, behind her liver, where it could not distract her. 

She’d set up a radio but rarely listened to it. It was nothing but sticky shrieks for help and aid, and please, where is shelter, food, or a cure? Everything is gone, and we have children. 

Gradually, the radio became mostly static. There’d be the occasional clip of a song or a snarling preacher spouting about fire and brimstone as the last vestiges of humanity clung to the airwaves.

She had no room in her for kindness. She felt stripped to her bones, and that’s what she wanted. Bones. Dust. No emotions. No empathy. No love. She thought of the texts and phone calls from Soap and Price, and she assumed the worst. Either they were dead, saving babies, or something equally heroic. 

She knew Price. He wouldn’t have just run. Soap, Gaz, and Alejandro would have followed him. 

He would have stayed. He would have died fighting because that was just who he was. 

She, on the other hand, stayed in place. She bunkered down and made lists. 

She was very good at surviving. 

***

Its moans shuddered through the gardens as its feet scraped across gravel. She was surprised it could make such sounds. She’d seen several with their vocal cords split into ribbons; tongues chewed to mush. Those corpses so deteriorated from the sun or hard rain that they could only manage a thin whistle. It had to be muscle memory. Even in death, they remembered the inclination to speak and be heard.

She loosely spun the ax in her hand as she studied the intruder. 

“How’d you get in here, hmm?” The question slipped between them, echoing in the pleasant morning quiet. The garden was a riot of colors: magenta tulips, cream-white and orange daffodils, violets, and golden primroses. Amidst the fruity sweetness was the cloying scent of decay. Insects buzzed. The wind rustled the magnolia trees. 

The maze of hedges was beginning to lose its shape and would undoubtedly grow wild as time passed. The shrubs were distorted, and the grass was too long.

As she closed in, it jerked its head at her scent. For a moment, she felt that tantalizing bite of adrenaline. Every drop of her blood pulsed between her ears. Her heart throbbed as she lifted the ax just as it twisted around to look at her. 

Its foggy eyes were unseeing, the pupils unevenly dilated. Its flesh was a myriad of shades, not unlike the colorful garden around them. Purple. Green. Yellow. White. A few wet strands of hair were clinging to the crown of the skull. She could see inside its chest where the brown lungs had shriveled within a mottled rib cage.

When she brought the ax down, it grunted. The bone split. The blood was sluggish and the color of tar. It had been a person once. A woman. Her terry cloth bathroom was still attached to what was left of her arms.

 She swallowed thickly, wiping the blade of the ax on the ground. The blood and gristle smelled terrible, but it was impossible to escape it. It had almost become familiar. 

She was lucky. Ashcroft was located on hundreds of acres of land. She bet the cities were far worse. She bet that death stench hung over it like a fish bowl. 

She glanced back at the Jacobean estate. It was certainly a fortress with its turrets, towers and red sandstone facade. The place dated back to the sixteenth century and had been altered and renovated due to fire and two World Wars. It was far too big for her to care for herself. The staff had fled or were infected. Her parents had been dead before everything exploded, and they had left the damn thing to her. Fresh from the medical facility, she’d shown up to a home she hadn’t considered hers in years.

 It would fall apart; the grounds would turn back to nature. For now, she had opted to inhabit sections. The kitchen, the library, the billiard room, and the master bedroom with its bay windows that offered a perfect view of the main path to the front gate. 

With her foot, she nudged the dead woman onto her back. The shriveled corpse looked disturbing against the emerald green grass. She’d need a wheelbarrow and gloves to remove her.

She sighed, turning her face toward the sun and allowing it to warm her skin.

She’d handle the body in a minute.

***

“Nice form, Slim.”

She spun around to find Bambi staring at her from the veranda. Clad in ratty shorts, a sweat-stained tank, and knee socks, Bambi looked like a washed-down version of a pervy uncle. Gone were the strappy heels and Selkie baby doll dresses. No more black cards, Ibiza, or Annabel’s. 

“I think dad used to wear that same outfit,” Slim quipped, and Bambi narrowed her eyes, chin thrust out and nose tipped upward with her special kind of arrogance.

“Times are dire, G.I. Jane,” she huffed, gesturing to her outfit. “I’m too lazy to wash this shit by hand so it shall serve me another day.”

Slim laughed. Bambi was disarming and unpredictable. Gorgeous and sometimes mean as a snake though the apocalypse had humbled her a bit. 

“You look gross,” Bambi remarked as she folded her arms over her tits. “Think there’s some brain on you.”

A bit. Humbled a bit. 

Truth be told, Slim probably would have drowned herself in the lake if it hadn’t been for Bambi. Two months into the end of the world, her childhood best friend showed up at her door. She was dirty, her hair greasy, and her face gaunt, but her dark eyes still sparked with life. Everyone was dead, but Bambi, spoiled and regal, was burning with a vivacity that Slim no longer felt.

She’d run from London before they started shutting down the exits. 

“I knew you’d be here,” Bambi had whispered before throwing her arms around her neck. ‘I fucking knew it.”

Slim was so stunned that she didn’t even check her for bites. Bambi’s mouth brushed her ear, her fingers clenched in her t-shirt. “I knew that if anyone could survive this, it would be you.” She pulled away, dry, pale lips cracking around a smile. “You can protect me.”

She’d had a car for a good part of it, but things fell apart by Manchester. The traffic was unbreachable. Someone started shooting.

“I hid in the backseat with a blanket for maybe two days. I remember two dawns, at least. No one gave a shit about the cars because the roads were blocked. People shot at each other instead.” Bambi sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “A bullet went through my window, and I stayed frozen. There was this guy - this kid, maybe seventeen, who’d been shot in the head, and he fell across the hood of my car like crazy perfectly. It was so weird. I’d never seen someone dead, and I remember thinking about how you saw people die all the time - you’d killed people and survived so much, and maybe this was a sign, and so I realized I had to get to you.

“Assumed I’d still be in Cartmel?”

“Last we spoke, you were there, and I figured it’d be better than any of the cities. Plus…” She’d grinned, and it had lit up her perfect face. “You have weapons.” Bambi suddenly held Slim’s face between her hands and kissed her firmly on the mouth. It was sour and stale, but she allowed it. “Now, I’m fucking knackered, you beautiful bitch. Where’s the kitchen and the showers?”

Bambi never told her what she had to do after Manchester to reach Ashcroft, and she didn’t press. 

The very thought of Manchester had left her sick and shivering. It only brought recollections of him. Was he out there? Had he been on a mission on the opposite side of the world when everything burned? Did it even matter because surely she’d never see him or any of them again? 

“Slim!” Bambi snapped, violently wrenching her from her memories. “What are we doing with that?” She pointed to the dead woman in the grass. “It’s ruining the pleasant vibes of our home.”

“Do we have people coming over?”

Bambi smirks and lifts an eyebrow suggestively. “You never know, old girl. One of these days, some fit fucking gents may wander up the road.”

“Because every person who’s tried to trespass has been so attractive.”

“Well - you keep shooting them.”

Yes. In the beginning, she had been ruthless about it. In times like these, you had to do what was necessary, and she had no interest in taking a chance. It was the people you had to watch out for. Not the dead, but the human beings who’d kill them just for her armory alone.

She fired a warning, and if they continued, then they were fair game. It was always the mean-looking ones, too. Beady eyes and ponchos, waving shotguns like they were playing at war. They’d see Red with her marksman rifle in hand and immediately relax. palms up as they continued forward.

“S’alright, birdie. We’ll keep you safe, yeah? You can’t stay here alone. Girl like you won’t last-”

She’d blow their skulls after that.  She didn’t lose sleep over it.

What had Price told her? We get dirty, and the world stays clean.

Red would get dirty for both of them.

“Get the wheelbarrow,” she ordered, abruptly switching lanes. She turned away from Bambi’s scowling face, tucking her hair behind her ears. It had grown so long that even Bambi had offered to cut it.

Your hand-eye coordination is awful. Remember the last time you tried giving me a haircut?

That was twenty years ago, you daft cow. Who is going to see it, anyway?

I can still be vain about some things! 

“I’m only getting the wheelbarrow because I know you do all the dirty work,” Bambi declared, shoving her socked feet into too-big loafers that had belonged to Slim’s pa. She began to shuffle toward the ravine at the rear of the property.

“You’ll be bludgeoning the undead soon enough,” Slim yelled after her. Bambi threw up a middle finger.

It was strange. Everything. At times, their world at Ashcroft felt normal. They could spend days drinking to oblivion without ever going outside. They’d draw the curtains and light the fireplace in the study, sliding from the velvet couches to the carpet as they giggled about stupid things. Their mouths smeared berry-red from the wine they’d filched from the cellar. They’d play cards and smoke the cigarettes they’d found in her mother’s nightstand.

“So, how were the men? They probably were all over your ass.”

“They were nice.”

“That’s all you’re going to give me? I’ve told you about that Duke -

“They were good to me. There isn’t much I can share.”

“The world’s over, my love. Afraid there’s no regime to punish you.’

“I know.”

“Fine, then. How about this? Why did you leave?”

***

“I think I’m going to head into town,” Slim announced over their lunch of biscuits and peanut butter. There was a whole pantry full of canned vegetables, bread, and hard cheese. There was a greenhouse, a garden, and small animals, but neither of them knew what they were doing. She couldn’t exactly google how to plant crops or what flourished in what season. 

Bambi frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Slim leaned back in her chair as she tugged her hair into a knot. The sun was bright today, flooding through the windows and over the kitchen table. “There haven’t been many zombies lately…I want to see the status of the village and get a sense of things.”

“Sounds like a dumb idea.”

“We’re far enough away that we wouldn’t know if danger was coming until it was at the gates.”

Bambi leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm. “And you would shoot them before they got to the door.”

Slim shook her head. “Houses like these are more valuable now than ever before. They’ve functioned for centuries without electricity or heat. Lots of land. Private well for clean water. An army could decide to overtake us, and I can’t hold down the fortress by myself.”

‘I’ll help!”

“You can’t shoot.”

“Give me an automatic weapon, and all I have to do is aim in the general direction.”

“That’s not how it works, B,” Slim said as she massaged her temples. The headaches were becoming frequent. “I need to go regardless because I want to see if the pharmacies have any antibiotics left.”

They had several first aid kits, and when society was just beginning to rupture, Slim had collected what she could. Still, she was anxious that they would undoubtedly need more in the coming years. Anything could happen. 

The scar over her belly pulsed with phantom pain. It hadn’t stopped since Russia, and she doubted it ever would.

Bury it. Bury it. That time is far away. The chair. That empty room with the dingy cot and how the metal squeaked and screeched with every movement. 

She ran through a list in her head of what she needed: penicillin, electrolyte powders, moxifloxacin, oxycodone, and prednisolone.

Lists helped. The clinical beauty in the simple pattern of words kept her from spiraling into ugly thoughts.

“I could come with you,” Bambi offered. “Watch your six as they say?”

As they say. 

This was the time Slim felt an overwhelming tenderness for her friend. Bambi looked frightened for her, and while Slim was primarily responsible for keeping them both alive, she understood it went deeper than that. 

She placed her hand on Bambi’s wrist, fingering the Cartier bracelets that no longer mattered. She couldn’t sell them. All they’d be suitable for was to be melted down for useful things like bullets, but Slim was the last person to begrudge someone their little luxuries.

“I appreciate the help, but I can do it faster on my own.”

“Fine,” Bambi conceded. “But look for Xanax.”

“Of course.”

“Maybe, condoms.”

***

On the journey into town, it began to rain. She’d taken one of the horses, Biorn, and his damp black mane gave off a musky, animal stink. There were cars at the Ashcroft manor, but using them seemed risky. The engine would rumble and spit and no doubt draw attention to her. She also didn’t want to waste the gas. 

Clad in a simple t-shirt and jeans, she tipped her head back to stare up at the sky. The clouds were slate gray and swollen. She opened her mouth to taste the rain, feeling high off the perfume of petrichor and sodden leaves. She was cold, but the chill woke her up. Her fingers twitched around the reins.

Her hair stuck to the nape of her neck like a leech. 

She missed fighting. She missed the finality of a mission. You either died or you succeeded, and then it’d be over. Now - it was for always. Now, her mission was endless. 

She sighed, shaking her head. 

It was dangerous to crave violence. She feared what she would unleash in herself and what she’d have to face. Kursk. Him. The very debilitating emptiness he'd left inside her. It festered and spoke to her when her mind was most at rest. 

“Stay alive, duchess.”

His enormous palm cradled the back of her skull as he stared down at her. “You’re the best they’ve got. Can’t do it without you.”

Nearing the town, she noticed the first signs of the infection. There were water-logged notices with peeling paint, haphazardly hammered to wooden posts.

Stay Home.

Stay Calm. 

Wash Your Hands and Wear a Mask.

It hadn’t been that sort of infection, but no one knew it then.

She glanced at the woods on her right and noticed a pair of tiny rain boots. Focusing, she realized they were attached to a body nestled in the leaves. She knew there had been plenty of suicides. There’d been advertisements for special concoctions that promised no pain, and surely any place was better than the current one. 

She grimaced and pressed forward. The pretty village was still picturesque with its cobbled streets and quaint cottages and inns. The River Eaa flowed at a lazy pace. There were burned-out Christmas lights in the trees. Two miles ahead, near the shoreline, was a larger town with more facilities.

The silent, empty village made her skin crawl. There was a stink from the houses. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw something staring back at her in the ivy by the church. She bit her lip as she guided Biorn toward the back entrance to the pharmacy. She tied him to the rear door before stroking his muzzle and kissing his snout. 

She wouldn’t go further than the pharmacy today. There was something wrong here. The rain was picking up and making it impossible for her to see or hear clearly. She was at a disadvantage, and anyone could be surveying her. 

She was prized goods. The guns strapped to her hip and back. The ax in her belt. Her horse, especially. 

Doing one last scan of the area, she slipped through the rear entrance.

***

It smelled here, too, but not as intense. She waited a moment, listening for a groan, grunt, or the scrape of feet on the linoleum. Nothing. 

Utilizing the half-dome mirrors in the room's corners, she silently maneuvered through the aisles, heading straight for the pharmacy counter. She was quick about it as she stuffed whatever bottles remained into her bag. 

It wasn’t a lot. The place had been somewhat looted. She’d hoped the pharmacist had locked it down during the worst of it. She’d hoped most of the village had gone North, toward the areas that promised “sanctuaries,” before realizing there were none.

After emptying the shelves, she raided the otc medication, leftover bandages, ointment, eye drops, and snacks. Jerky. Chips. Candy. Ramen. She walked toward the front of the store before freezing. There was someone on the ground. For a second, she had thought “mannequin,” forgetting how unlikely that would be. There was no one to clean away bodies. Mannequins didn’t belong in pharmacies.

Slowly she pulled her ax from the loop of her belt before readjusting her form. She crouched, creeping toward what appeared to be a dead man. She blinked down at him. The blood was bright and smelled like pennies as it puddled around his head. His throat was missing, his eyes open and staring at the ceiling. She could distinguish the tendons and ripped flesh. Bits of the white spine. She cautiously reached for the man’s arm to touch his skin. It was still warm, and she lifted it easily. No rigor mortis.  

This man had just died. But a zombie wouldn’t leave him here. They’d eat and eat until there was nothing left. Her appearance wouldn’t have registered to it.

She straightened, confused and weary. It wasn’t fear that ran through her, but puzzlement. 

Thwack. 

She startled and whirled around, eyes scanning from the front window to the rear of the space. There was only the pharmacy’s flag ripping in the harsh wind just outside the door. She walked toward the window steadily, ax in one hand and her other hand poised over her gun. 

Perhaps it was the rain? It was coming down hard. Black sky and a heavy layer of fog. Her heart pulsed as she scanned the streets.

Thwack. 

She spun toward the aisles, but there was nothing amiss. Her teeth chattered in her mouth. She was soaked to the bone, and every step brought the audible squelch of her sneakers.

Why the fuck hadn’t she worn boots? 

Because you got complacent. With your sniper rifle and homemade alarms, you got arrogant in your posh castle in the hills. 

Now, she was in the savage, desolate reality of the after. After the infection. After the bombs, the Hail Marys, the useless quarantines, and the suicide juice. 

After Russia. After he’d run away from her and she’d gotten captured.

A deep growl sprang from the backroom. She shoved her ax back in her jeans and pulled out her gun. It felt like an appropriate time to use bullets when she couldn’t see her enemy.

Tiptoeing toward the door that led to a storage area, she quietly pushed it open with her shoulder. 

Once inside, she had to recalibrate. The sight in front of her didn’t compute. 

It was a man. Heavy-set. Pink skin like a pig. His short hair was matted, and he was hovering over a workbench. He raised his arm and brought something silver down. 

Thwack.

It was a cleaver. 

Thwack.

Each thwack was followed by a wet squelch. She heard something crack. 

The room was dark, but there were enough candles to illuminate what the man was chopping.

Flesh. Pink and red and purple. Gristle. Bone. 

She found herself unable to breathe. The room was thick with the scent of meat. Blood. Sweat. Innards. It reminded her of Kursk and how those cells were branded in that stench. All the dead before her. All the ones in neighboring prisons who sobbed and gurgled. 

She stumbled backward, falling against the door, which swung open and deposited her on the floor. She slipped on the rain-slick linoleum, and her gun skittered away. Without thinking, she scrambled toward it.

There’s one on your back. There’s the ax. Arm yourself with something before-

Something unbearably heavy and reeking fell on top of her. 

***

She was fucked. She was really fucked. 

It took her a second to realize that the man from the backroom had attacked her. It took her another second to recognize that he was human. He was human and eating - 

It didn’t matter. None of it mattered as she attempted to roll onto her back. Her mind was cluttered - swimming with memories of Kursk that she could not punch away. After years of training, she couldn’t come up with a single move that could force the man off of her back. 

Adrenaline was pulsing through her bones. Her nerves were fraying - sparking - close to exploding, and she thought if the man buried her further into the ground, her heart would be forced out of her mouth. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She tried to reach down for her ax, but he had her effectively pinned. He was grunting on top of her, spitting out obscenities, screeching like an animal, and maybe he’d become one. Maybe, the after had effectively twisted him into something feral and desperate.

Just as her vision began to dim, the man blessedly pulled away from her. She took a deep, bruising breath before flipping onto her back. She tried to kick out at him with her legs, but he was too strong. He was huge, blocking out the ceiling, drowning out the world. He lifted his arm high, a spark from outside catching on the cleaver blade. 

“Oh fuck,” she hissed before curling inward just as he brought it down.

She felt a burn. He’d gotten her, confirmed when a warm wash of blood sheeted down her shoulder into her shirt. She glanced at it, blinking sluggishly. She wasn’t entirely sure where he’d hit her because a dull throbbing began to pulse throughout her body. Everything went numb. Distant. 

She collapsed backward, raising her arms to defend herself from the second hit. The whites of the man’s eyes reminded her of eggshells as they expanded across the pricks of his pupils. He was covered in a fresh splatter of crimson, and she knew it was her blood. The man’s jaw was twitching, his teeth gnashing as she uselessly tried to cover her chest. It would be humiliating if she died like this. She couldn’t leave Bambi -

The man was staring at her, and then he wasn’t. There was an abrupt snap before his head was now turned back toward the storage room. The cleaver clattered beside her. She stared at it dumbly before the weight of him straddling her thighs was gone. He was being lifted clean off of her, picked up like a sack of potatoes before being tossed aside with a guttural snarl.

A snarl she recognized. 

Her gaze slid from the cleaver to the figure looming over her. Ghost. The white skull mask seemed pronounced in the gray-lit shop. She could make out the flicker of his eyes, though his expression was unreadable. He was tall and imposing, bigger than she remembered, as he regarded her silently. His bulky shoulders. His tac vest. His boots. His clothes were coated in a thick film of blood and grime. Even the white parts of his mask were smeared red.

She swallowed as she tried to sit up. Her head and torso felt so heavy, and she found herself trying to reach for him. He crouched, his gloved fist covering hers, their fingers threading together. He was so hot - so perfectly, beautifully alive, and he just threw that huge monster of a man like it was nothing. Ghost had broken his neck with his bare hand.

You saved me.

You came. 

“Simon,” she whispered, though she found it difficult to focus. His eyes drifted toward her shoulder, and he stiffened. 

“Price,” he barked. “She’s fuckin’ bleeding out.”

“Price?” she echoed, bewildered. Ghost tugged at the scarf around his neck before pressing it to her shoulder. It didn’t hurt, which she thought was probably a bad sign.

“They were out back,” he explained. “There were hostiles there, too.”

Hostiles. The word felt familiar. 

Suddenly, Ghost stepped away, allowing another to take his place. She grimaced, fingers clutching on air. She wanted to ask him to come back. She wanted to feel him.

“Hello, darlin’.”

Price’s voice melted into her skin, and she returned his smile, though it was difficult. Another appeared beside him. Soap. He frantically opened one of the bags, yanking out gauze and tape. 

She tried to say Johnny, but it wouldn’t come. Finally, he looked at her, his expression scrunched and unlike him. “Knew we’d find you trying to take someone down twice your size.” He was teasing her, but it lacked its familiar mischief. He looked truly frightened for her.

Admittedly, she found it comforting. His worry embraced her and made her want to curl into his arms because she had wished for Soap’s sweet face too many times to count in the last year.

Her shoulder twinged. 

She frowned before dragging her eyes toward Price. 

“Others?” she rasped.

“There are more of us out back. Most of the group.” He gestured to the dead man in the corner. “Couple other bastards like the one there.” 

Ghost had already told her that, but everything was swaddled in a haze.

She tilted her head in acknowledgment as she licked her lips, her tongue dry. It was a lot. She couldn’t believe what was in front of her. 

“Price,” she murmured. “John.”

His gaze crinkled, and he cradled her face in one palm while his other hand remained firm on her shoulder to staunch the bleeding. She could smell him. Sweat, dirt, and body odor. They’d probably been on the roads for months. She lifted her hand hesitantly before wiping at the oily black blood smeared across his cheek. He closed his eyes as he leaned into it.

“You look different,” she whispered as she grazed her thumb from his temple to his jaw. His beard was overgrown, and she focused on the tiny wrinkles around his eyes as he grinned down at her. Behind him, she thought she could spot Ghost’s massive form.

“It’s so fuckin’ good to see you, Red,” Price uttered, the words cracking within the syrupy wet of his throat.

Red.

Red Fox.

She hadn’t heard that name in over a year, and the implication of it both frightened and soothed her. She felt like it was her mask, her armor. It was who she had been before Russia and the end of the world.

Price’s smile faltered as his eyes darted to the scarf, sodden with her blood. Oh yes - she was injured.

“Really fuckin’ missed you,” Price said with such conviction as if he needed her to understand.

She wanted to tell him the same. She wanted to say how much she missed them.  

Instead, she sank back to the floor, Price’s arms still around her back as Soap began to cut through her shirt.

---

Please comment and let me know your thoughts!! It’s going to get very angsty and smutty.

Next

[thegoldencontracts]

May I request Ace, Deuce, and Riddle taking care of a Ramshackle Prefect reader who’s come down with the flu or something? (I hope requesting multiple characters at once is okay��)

Of course, multiple characters is okay! Thank you so much for requesting!

Sick Days

You're sick. Lovely. But at least your fellow schoolmates are there to make this a bit less awful.

Notes: Sickfic, my beloved, small fics for each character, reader has no pronouns, reader's face isn't mentioned to turn red, no size/hair type giveaways, etc, please tell me if I've added a description that makes the reader difficult to relate to!

You woke up feeling like absolute garbage. You felt hot and cold at the same time, your head hurt, and you were so, so dizzy.

There was a paw on your face. Grim.

"Myah, human, took you long enough!" he said. "Class already started, but the Great Grim stayed behind just for you!"

It took a second for his words to register.

What? Class already started? You're late, this is gonna be terrible, you're late, and-

"You're burnin' up!" Grim said, which was probably true, now that you thought about it. You didn't really feel like addressing his concerns.

Instead, you gave your own very intelligent input.

"Ugh."

"You should probably stay home, human. Get better, so you can get back to serving the Great Grim faster."

Even when he was concerned, Grim just had to be- well, Grim, didn't he? Whatever. You just wanted to sleep. You'd call in absent later, or whatever.

You went to sleep. Tried to, at least. It was half tossing and turning, a quarter trying to get comfortable in your blankets, an immeasurable amount of time sneezing and sniffling - Grim managed to get you a tissue box with his paws at some point and maybe one percent actual resting.

After what, according to the clock was a few hours worth of suffering, you heard a knock on your bedroom.

"Who is it?"

Ace Trappola

"Vil Schoenheit, duh." You were not letting Ace diss you while you were sick. Not a chance.

"Don't come in."

"Jeez," Ace said, seeming pretty concerned. "You sound awful. I'm coming in."

So kind, Ace. So kind. Truly, that man deserved an award for his raw tact.

The door slammed open, and you could see Ace's smug grin fall for a moment before coming back up.

"You got sick?" He said, giving you a once-over.

Obviously you were sick! What kind of question was that?

"No, I'm actually better than I've ever been," you said. "That's why I didn't come to school. To celebrate my raw level of health."

"Whatever. Can't blame you for that, but you're still and idiot for those thick blankets. You're supposed to lower your body temperature when you're sick; even Deuce knows that."

You weren't going to stand for this slander of your mutual friend - no matter how much those two tried to deny their friendship.

"Take back what you said about-"

"And get some food in your system! I'm getting you some soup."

Before you could even say anything, Ace was gone.

Was he- concerned about you? Actually, yeah, that was probably it. Ace was just built like that.

After a while, he was back, with a bowl of soup and a wet towel in hand.

"Trey, uh, had some soup leftover," he said, pressing the towel to your forehead. Cold. So cold. You wanted it off. "And the towel'll help get your temperature down. Don't take it off."

For all you made fun of Ace, he was actually so street-smart it was scary sometimes, and that included being able to read your thoughts.

"I won't," you said, more like mumbled, because your throat was so sore you'd think someone shoved a bunch of needles down it.

"You sound awful," he said with a snicker. "You need water. I'll go get it for you."

You didn't even mind the fact that he was making fun of you right now, you were just thankful for that sweet, sweet water. Your throat was dryer than the Sahara - which, funnily enough, didn't actually mean anything, since the Sahara didn't exist in Twisted Wonderland and was therefore just gibberish.

Lo and behold, he came back, carrying a thermos filled with water.

"Drink some," he said, holding the bottle up to your lips.

That gave you pause. What was next, him feeding you the soup?

Still, you needed the water, so you drank it without thinking.

It felt so good. Finally, rain in the Sahara!

You didn't have much time to rejoice before Ace held up a spoon of soup to your mouth.

"Say ah," he said, evidently very amused.

"I'm not a little kid, I can feed myself."

Ace just looked at you, unimpressed.

"Your hands're shaking so hard I can see them through the blankets," he said. "You're an idiot if you think your hands can take that soup anywhere but all over your blankets."

He was mean, but he was right. Curse him.

You opened your mouth, and he fed you a spoonful. This was how it went until the bowl was gone.

"You can leave now," you said.

"Nah," Ace replied. "You clearly need help getting better."

He was staying, wasn't he? And there was nothing you could do to change that. Whatever, maybe being babied wouldn't be so bad.

Besides, this was his own way of showing he cared, and it was one you didn't entirely mind. It'd be rude to push him away.

"Fine, fine," you said.

"Good."

And so, with Ace's help, getting better wasn't so bad.

A week later, however, Ace himself got sick. He really should've seen that coming.

"Here, say 'ah'."

"D-Don't feed me, idiot! I'm not a baby, I can do it myself."

How the turns had tabled.

Deuce Spade

"It's me, Deuce."

That was a relief.

"Come in," you said. "It's not locked."

The door opened, and you could make out the blue hair and black mark of none other than Deuce, one of your two friends from Heartslabyul - No matter how much Ace tried to deny he cared.

"You look terrible, Prefect," he said, and you knew he didn't mean to insult you, but it still hurt.

"I know," you said. "What'd you come here for?"

"You didn't come to class, so I was worried," Deuce said. "Now I know why. Anything I can do to make you feel better?"

There was one thing you wanted, more than anything.

"Water," you croaked out. "Please."

Right now, you and water were star-crossed lovers. Maybe Deuce could change that.

"Right away."

Deuce scurried out of the room, and, after a few, agonizing seconds, came back with your beloved water.

"Do you need help drinking?" he asked.

For a second, you thought that question was offensive. You could get it yourself. Then. you tried to reach for the bottle, and realized that his question was a very good one.

"Yep," you said, because your trembling hand were not bringing that bottle up to your mouth. The task just seemed daunting.

He put the bottle up to your mouth, and you drank up. Finally, your throat was parched. Relief.

"Anything else you need?" Deuce asked.

Although you didn't feel particularly nauseous right now, you weren't going to risk it with a meal. Right now, you just wanted someone to accompany you through your misery.

"Just stay with me," you asked. "You don't have to, I mean, I know you probably have a bunch of things to do, but-"

"No," Deuce said. "I'll stay with you. You're my friend, a-and, I want to do anything I can to make you feel any better."

He looked away.

"S-Sorry, I know how stupid that sounds," he said. You were going to correct his inaccurate statement.

"Deuce."

"Y-Yeah?"

"I'm pretty sure that's the nicest thing anyone's said to me."

"Thanks." Deuce scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "Anyways, do you wanna know what stuff in class we learned so it's easier for you to catch up?"

You smiled.

"I would love that."

Deuce made that sick day so much better. Somehow, he didn't even get sick. You honestly envied that good immune system. It was good that he didn't suffer for trying to help you, though.

Riddle Rosehearts

"Prefect, I was informed that you were absent from class today. Do you have an explanation?"

"I'm sick," you said, miffed. Riddle was actually great to be around, but god, you didn't have the patience for getting lectured right now.

Silence. More silence. Sheepish scurrying.

After a while, you hear another knock.

"Prefect, it's me," Riddle said. "I would like to apologize for my discourteous behavior prior."

The door opened, and there was Riddle, carrying a bunch of stuff.

"Aagh," was your highly intelligent greeting.

Riddle walked up to you, getting out a towel. He cast a water spell on it.

"You look quite disheveled," he said, putting the now wet towel on your forehead. "I really do feel terrible about the way I addressed you earlier. Trey had some soup leftover, would you like some?"

You nodded. You wanted something warm right now, especially with the cold cloth on your head.

"I'll get it for you, then."

From his bag, he took out a canteen, a spoon, and a napkin. He was really well-prepared, wasn't he? That really wasn't a shock. This was Riddle, after all, top student and ultimate over-preparer - actually, maybe Azul or Jamil took the latter role. Nothing could beat seeing Azul's backup-backup plans for the serious affair of buying cheese from Sam's.

Riddle handed you the soup, waving his magic-pen.

Your hand weren't trembling anymore. Weird.

"That was me," Riddle said, noticing your confusion. "The spell will temporarily let you eat in comfort."

"Thanks," you said, taking a sip of the soup. It tasted so good to your empty stomach. The nausea'd worn off some time ago, and now you were left with the burning feeling of hunger. You scarfed down that soup in no time, leaving Riddle with a concerned look.

"Are you not worried about vomiting?" he said.

You shook your head.

"I don't feel nauseous," you said. "Not now, at least."

That seemed to be a good enough answer for Riddle, who nodded.

"Is there anything else you'd like?"

"Can you help me catch up on the stuff I missed?"

"Of course," Riddle said, summoning a massive notebook. You gulped.

This was going to be a long day, wasn't it? Oh, well, at least it wouldn't be as bad as it would've been without Riddle.

Only three days after helping you get better, Riddle also got sick. You felt so bad, he was a stickler for attendance and now he was missing school because of you! You had to help him.

"I'm so, so sorry, Riddle, I swear!"

"You- achoo! H-Have nothing to- to be sorry for, Prefect."

[ohthewh0rror]

TOM RIDDLE : DATING HEADCANONS

A/N: Pls keep in mind this man is not mentally sound, so he is going to be toxic in some way. But, if you’re like me, you love a walking red flag, so let’s go. 😗

King of gaslighting, especially when it comes to shifting blame and countering/denial.

Doesn’t like owning up to anything he may have done to hurt your feelings. I don’t think you’ll ever get a genuine apology out of this man unless he’s done/said something that could end the relationship.

Not interested in you at first. Your looks meant nothing to him, he only became attracted to you after getting to know you.

Not experienced. At all. Despite being very handsome and charismatic, he has no interest in simple hookups. You’d be his first and last lover.

Very possessive. Not the typical jealous type either, he won’t physically fight anyone over you, but will try to isolate you from anyone who could take your attention away from him.

For lifers. You two ain’t breaking up. Go ahead and get that thought out your mind. Better yet, he’ll remove it for you.

Wont spend every waking moment with you, as he has other (not very good things) to do. But, he will make time for you.

Controversial: does not include you in what he’s doing. You’ll know he’s up to something, but until it’s at the point where he can’t hide it anymore, he’s not involving you. He sees it as his way of protecting you.

Not into PDA, and isn’t overly affectionate, but he’s not completely closed off either.

His affection is a little more subtle. Holding hands under the table, a hand on your lower back, brushing your hair off your shoulder, a quick peck on the corner of your lips, etc.

Not a hugger, his hugs are awkward, he won’t stop you if you come in for one though.

Does use pet names/nicknames for you, and they’re not always degrading.

In the bedroom he might call you out your name, but outside the bedroom he either calls you ‘sweatheart’, ‘darling’, or just a shortened version of your name. (He’s called Bellatrix, Bella, so I will hear no criticism on this one.)

Doesn’t have a high sex drive, can go a week or two without it. Knows you have needs though, and won’t protest if you buy stuff to get yourself off in the meantime.

Likes to be called ‘sir’ or ‘master’ in the bedroom.

Hair puller, ass slapper, calls you ‘slut’ kind of kinky. So not into anything crazy, but not completely vanilla either.

Not the king of aftercare by any means, but won’t leave you to completely fend for yourself either. Typically only brings you what you need to cleanup.

Doesn’t exactly cuddle? this is honestly the closest you’re getting to cuddling with him.

Doesn’t like talking about his feelings, and will never completely open up to you. Will listen to your problems though! Even if he doesn’t particularly care.

Do not complain to him unless you want him to just give you “solutions”. If you expect him to just listen to you complain and not give any advice, please save your breath. Doesn’t understand that some people just need to talk about their day to feel better and don’t want unsolicited advice about what to fix.

Father/Marriage Bonus:

Will marry you. Like an actual wedding band/ring, you in a pretty white dress/outfit, and a first dance type of wedding. Granted no one else will be there, just the two of you. But it’s special, a very intimate day.

Does he want kids? No. If you do get pregnant on accident will he be happy? Hell no. But, it’s not the end of the marriage. If you want to keep the baby he won’t protest, but is straightforward in telling you that he is taking a backseat in raising the child if you choose to keep it.

He’s a boy dad. Stays true to his word and you do pretty much all the child raising, only holds/takes care of the child if you ask him to.

Is low-key happy once the child goes away to Hogwarts. Would never tell you that though.

[blusherbaker]

Some extra thoughts about the Heartslabyul boys' kinks

Minors/ageless blogs DNI; all characters are 18+ for these scenarios

A few more ideas I had, expanding on this post of mine

Warnings: Smut, 2nd person and 3rd person neutral pronouns, discussion/mention of multiple kinks of different varieties, including those related to D/s dynamics, breeding, dumbification, etc.

Riddle loves being bitten, especially on his thighs. He'd be upset if he was left with any marks in a visible place, but he's not against having bite marks in areas that could be easily covered.

There's a chance that - unlike Cater - Ace is into forced feminization, mostly from the perspective of being under his partner's control, dictating what he is allowed to be called, do, wear, etc. He also enjoys the aspect of being praised for it when he (eventually) complies.

Deuce really enjoys holding his partner's hands in place. He usually does it in quite a romantic manner, interlacing his fingers with yours while keeping your hands just where he wants them. He also likes pinning you down with his own weight. It's never aggressive, and never painful at all... just gentle and sweet, but still surprisingly intense.

Trey's breeding kink is NOT connected to a desire to actually impregnate somebody. In my eyes, Trey isn't actually interested in having children at all (most of the time I HC characters as not wanting children, but that's mostly because that's what I'm like), he just really wants to fill up his partner, no matter their sex. And in multiple ways considering his stuffing kink too!

And I do really think Trey may be into being called “Daddy”. He wouldn't be really into titles (try calling him something like "Master" and he'll be pretty put-off), but Daddy is one he might actually enjoy. Quite a lot, actually!

There are a few who enjoy orgasm control, of different forms. I have a feeling that they all like all possible aspects of it, though Ace and Trey prefer edging, while Cater prefers forced orgasms.

I also want to expand a bit on Cater's dumbification kink. The draw for it comes from a similar place to why he likes overstimulation - it lets him completely shut off his brain for a short time. Just tell him things like, "It's alright, Cay... you don't need to think. You just need to listen to what I say, ", and he'll be a very happy boy ♥︎

I'd love to hear your thoughts / opinions on this, or anything in the original post ^v^

[spaceumbredoggos]

There has been a criminal absence of recent Yandere Bill Cipher x Reader headcanons, so I made some. Also, the tumblr folks eat this shit up. It’s hilarious. No one cares about my Kenz fic that I pour my heart and soul into, but when it comes to Yandere Bill, you thirst for the man. I am currently only taking headcanon requests (will elaborate later) because art takes forever to make.

All these HC’s also apply to Bill’s Relationship with my self insert OC. Just if they didn’t exist, like tumblr thinks they don’t. Please give So Much for Stardust the love it deserves. I’ll appreciate it.

Bill is very touchy feely to a criminal degree. (That’s as far as I’m gonna go because I don’t wanna have to put a content warning, and I don’t wanna come across as triggering. In my mind, it’s in line with Bill’s character to be that free candy van uncle.)

Does Bill possess Y/N? Does grass grow? Does a bear shit in the woods? That’s one of his favorite things to do. And he’s really good at covering his tracks. You bet your ass Y/N will wake up fucking wounded and sore from frequent possessions.

If Y/N dies, which would be pretty rare given Bill’s obsession, they’re gonna end up as a sinner in hell with their soul owned by Bill. Bill is higher than god himself on the hierarchy of my headcanoned Hellaverse if he did exist (which would be fucking hilarious, but given how much I hate Vivzie for various reasons, I doubt Hirsch would accept a collab since Vivzie has a heinous track record. My recent hyperfixation of the Hellaverse is clearly showing.) Bill would act almost like an overlord this way, and it’ll be sorta like a Val and Angel Dust relationship that’s written better. (I’m skirting around the most taboo parts of this to avoid triggering people including myself.)

Odds are, Y/N wouldn’t die. Bill has plans for them after all. So good luck avoiding his agenda of building a portal. Also, he’ll probably leave Alex Hirsch alone a lot, which may or may not lead to a drought in his Gravity Falls content. Bill’s likely to start a cult at this point to hunt Y/N down, specifically out of all those down bad fankids who’d let him do unspeakable things to them.

Bill will resort to all sorts of psychological torture. Maybe even projecting himself into your video games and other media that you delve into, with various alternate versions of himself (I’m glaring at you, Volo from Pokemon Legends Arceus.)

With every single fandom you hold dear tainted (and he’s gonna do a lot of unspeakable things to fandoms), you will be molded into serving him. If his interpretation from character AI taught me anything (which I no longer support) it’s that he needs total obedience from a slave and would stop at nothing to have that.

Good luck going off the grid to avoid him, because that’s when shit gets 100 times worse. With no contact with those you care about, he’d start driving you crazy. And if you managed the injuries he did to your body when he possessed it successfully, you won’t be able to manage any further injury that happens from your eventual insanity.

Bill has a blood kink times 11. He’ll do anything to make you bleed, but not bleed out. Blood and pain is what he feeds on.

He’s going to be speaking in Y/N’s head all the fucking time. He’ll be mixing his voice directly into Y/N’s own thoughts, taking over their entire fantasies, and quite possibly drive them to the point of dissociating in a psych ward for any sort of relief if they don’t build a portal for him to cross over.

This isn’t a scenario where Y/N is blind to all the red flags, and if it were, there’d still be nothing they could really do. Y/N is powerless, riddled with fear, and trying to flee and fight at any turn. Bill truly has them trapped from the moment he laid his possessive eye on them.

[milykins]

TMNT Headcanon - Losing Their Virginity

*Turtles are at least 18, Bayverse turtles

*18+ Readers only, contains sexual content and language you may find offensive.

*Third person female POV

Mikey's Story

Raph's Story

Leo's Story

It's finally time for Donnie's story! I'm so relieved I actually finished a series and I didn't lose my creative flame. Thanks everyone for the likes and reblogs!

Being the last of his brothers to be a virgin was embarrassing. Donnie knows his brothers would never outright tease him about it but it stung nonetheless. Even straight-laced Leo got a girlfriend before him! This wouldn’t do, not at all and Donnie was going to do something about it. Now he doesn’t do anything right away but he does make this elaborate plan to meet someone. It doesn’t work, unfortunately. The poor girl runs away screaming at the sight of him.

In the aftermath of his failure he does what he does best. He retreats into himself and stays in his lab for weeks on end. Even Raph is a little worried about their brother in purple but they all leave him to work things out on his own. He always does.

Fortunately he’s got distractions to keep him from falling completely into the abyss and is very well-known in the online gaming community. He’s got friends on there too, including someone he’s gotten pretty close to. She uses an androgynous name and a voice changer so the guys on there don’t know she’s female. The combat sessions were just easier that way. Even Donnie wasn't aware of her secret until one day when she forgets to use the voice changer and everyone in the party realizes she's been a girl all along. Almost immediately the derogatory comments start up. Don, however, is quick to shut them down and snaps at the other guys for objectifying her like that. He sounded so sweet in his defense of her and as a result, she stops using the voice changer from that moment on. She does apologize to him for hiding her gender in a private voice chat with just the two of them and he completely understands. He promises her that he won't let anyone bother her if he can help it.

Donnie is pleased to have made a new female friend. They get to chatting more and more and even do a few voice calls. He is ever so careful not to let slip that he’s a 6’8” mutant turtle. Still, his walls come down somewhat the closer they get. They even exchange numbers and do a few voice calls. She texts him daily with little memes and fun facts. Donnie reciprocates by texting her his random thought of the day. He also texts her riddles and is highly aware that she wants to figure them out for herself, no hints.

One day he gets a text that kicks up his fight or flight instinct. A simple ‘Can we meet?’ At this point, they had been friends for a good few months and Donnie never dreamed it would go beyond that. His logical brain thought it would be better to keep her at arms length. That way, nobody would get hurt. Still, his fingers itched to type back ‘yes, when and where?’ he really wanted to meet her but the fear of what she’d think of him when she discovered what he truly was kept him from typing that out. Instead he types: ‘it’s probably not a good idea… we should keep things as they are.’ He still couldn’t bring himself to press ‘send’.

Several minutes later he was still trying to find an answer. She seemed to sense her question was ill-timed and apologizes, saying she realizes they aren’t ready for that yet. Immediately his fingers fly to the keyboard typing rapidly. He does want to meet her, he just hesitated because he was nervous and there’s something she needs to know first. He sits there then, his heart pounding as anxiety takes over. This was it, she was going to find out he was a monster, a freak and he was going to lose her. Finally he makes his decision. He calls her, trying to keep his voice from shaking and stutters out where to meet him.

Donnie shows up with a purple hoodie on covering his head and leaves most of his tech in his lab. He keeps his phone on him and a hidden bo staff just in case. He stays hidden in the shadows until he sees her. His breath catches in his throat, she was beautiful. Red hair… he had such a weakness for redheads. There’s a light dusting of freckles on her nose, and her expression showed she was nervous and unsure. She’s looking around everywhere for him, afraid he wasn’t going to show up.

Donnie steels himself; it was now or never. Very gingerly, he emerges, keeping his head down. He tells her it’s him, his voice shaking slightly. She’s immediately struck by how tall he is, she loved tall men, it was her weakness. She was confused by his body posture and why it looked like he was wearing a backpack. Donnie quietly asks her not to scream because he’s not exactly human and doesn’t want to scare her. He takes his hood off and braces himself for the inevitable. But it doesn’t come. She gasps at his appearance with obvious wonder and not disgust as he thought she would. He watches her carefully as she steps closer to get a better look. She tells him now she knows how Belle felt meeting the Beast the first time except she's not afraid of him. At that, Donnie has to smile because he knows Beauty and the Beast is her favourite Disney movie and that she held the steadfast belief that the Beast never should have changed into a human. He relaxes more then and asks her if she’d like to hang out for a while. She agrees and is full of questions for the duration of the night. Donnie is happy to answer each and every one of them if it means he gets to spend more time with her. She gives him a kiss on the cheek when they finally part ways and he’s so elated he feels like he could sing.

Donnie has a girlfriend. He has an actual girlfriend. At first his brothers tease him saying at least he didn’t have to build one. Truthfully though, they’re very happy for him and relieved because they can see an obvious change in him. He’s happier and he’s not staying holed up in his lab like he used to. It’s not long before he invites her down to the lair to meet his family and show her around. He’s so proud to show off all the things he’s been working on and even more proud to show her his bigger projects like the TTT or Turtle Tactical Truck. She is definitely awed by his accomplishments and thinks it’s very sweet that this awkward, nerdy, sweetheart of a turtle was trying so hard to impress her. If it wasn't obvious, Donnie has already fallen head over heels for this girl but he hasn’t told her yet nor have they made love. He wants it to be perfect.

In his effort to do this, it takes him a long time to plan it. Luckily, his new girlfriend is very patient and they do get closer in other ways. He gives her the full rundown on his ‘equipment’, telling her exactly how it differs from a human male’s, but assuring her it still functions as such. She can’t help but giggle at how serious he’s being about it all and assures him that she still wants to try either way. Donnie hurriedly tells her that there’s no rush and that they can take their time with such things. He’s secretly afraid it might be too painful for her and wants to be fully prepared so they are able to make it work between them.

Donnie is the only one of his brothers to do actual research on how to properly please a woman. After all, research is what he does best and he’s nervous but excited to put it into practice. Needless to say, she’s very pleased with the results and though they don’t have actual sex in the coming weeks, they get awfully close.

It happens on the very special date he has planned for her. Now, Donnie, being well, himself, has its definite advantages. One of which being his ability to break in and hack his way into pretty much anywhere. On the day of the date, he tells her to dress up and meet him at the planetarium. Upon meeting her there, he whisks her away to a secret entrance where they can view the planetarium from above and enjoy a private meal. Mikey had been more than willing to pack some food and snacks for them. 'Tonight my Donnie boy, you become a man.' ... 'Thanks, Mikey..."

After the meal is finished, he takes her into the theatre with the large domed projection screen. He tells her to close her eyes and count to three. When she opens them, he’ll have turned on the projector and she sees millions of stars, planets, and galaxies above them. It’s the most romantic thing she’s ever experienced. Her eyes are a bit misty when he shyly asks if she likes it.

Her response is standing on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him like her life depends on it. Donnie reacts immediately, his long, lean arms catching her and holding her close as he angles his mouth to kiss her more deeply. Minutes later, they’re breathing deeply and staring into each other’s eyes. That’s when he knows it’s time, he loves her and he’s going to tell her. He whispers it, afraid that if he says it any louder she might not feel the same way. She whispers it back, honestly, that she loves him and tells him just how special and unique he is, and how she’s feels so lucky to have met him. He can’t help but reiterate that he’s the lucky one before covering her mouth with his. Several passionate moments later he pulls back with a question in his eyes. She absolutely picks up on it, and breathlessly asks him to come back to her apartment with her. Donnie has never moved so fast in his life. He shuts everything down, grabs their things and exits the building with her in less than five minutes.

Upon arrival to the apartment things escalate quickly. Gear and belongings are dropped haphazardly and there’s a desperation to undress her as quickly as possible before he practically carries her to her bedroom. Pretty soon he’s also bare and has her laid out beneath him trembling with need. His touch is skillful and precise. He is methodical about this, he wants to do as much foreplay and prep-work to make this as painless and pleasurable as he possibly can. He works at gently stretching her opening while making her feel good at the same time. When the time comes for her to take him inside he goes inch by inch, always stopping and checking if she’s still all right. He’s the only one of his brothers to use a condom, ‘just in case’ and ‘safety first’. It had taken some looking though to find ones large enough to accommodate him.

 She only feels a slight amount of pain, grateful to him for taking the time to ready her and falls in love with him just a little more from his thoughtfulness and care. Once she’s ready, he does a few practiced thrusts and oh boy, nothing could have prepared him for how good this would feel. He can’t help but stutter it out to her, how amazing she is and how much he loves her. She whispers it back and tells him likewise how good it feels to have him inside of her.

He’s spurred on by her words of encouragement he moves faster and has to concentrate on not being the first to finish. With a careful hand he snakes his fingers between their bodies and rubs her sensitive nub in well-practiced circles with his thumb, he whispers how beautiful she is and how much he wants to hear her come. He gently urges her, ‘come for me, come for me, beautiful… let me hear you.’

Almost immediately, her body locks up and the grip on his shoulders tightens while she digs her fingernails into his tough skin. Her cries are absolute music to his ears and he decides he needs to hear her make these types of sounds as often as he can. He grunts softly as his own release comes moments after hers, he groans deeply while his body shudders from the blinding amount of pleasure he feels.

The aftermath is composed of soft kisses, whispered murmurings of love and a gentle cleanup, her before himself of course. Donnie’s conclusion is that this has to be the happiest moment of his life… so far. The best is yet to come.

Mikey does congratulate him when he returns home.

The End

[b0njourbeach]

So what are your thoughts on TreyKei?

They're besties, they're worsties. They're married and have two cats (then again, Trey seems to be more of a dog-person. Maybe a dog and a cat?), they'll never be a couple. They love each other, they'll never be able to love each other.

I'm so physically ill about them and their unlimited possibilities.

There are so many thoughts in my head and knowing that you always liked my rambles, I won't try to hold back and let it all out for once haha. I can't promise that I'm being able to express it all because you can imagine my thoughts as followed: Idia, Malleus and Jade infodumping about their special interests while Kalim screams for funsies in the distance and Cater runs around as if he's on a sugar rush - All of it happening at the same time, of course.

Anyways.

You can have Friends to Lovers if you want to, you can have a slow burn, you can have a fall in love on first sight, Friends with benefits, one sided affection, Angst in every shape and Form, a million different AUs that still fits them.

I personally see them both being bisexual. I'm not sure how to explain it but if I had to give an example of a bisexual, it would be them. But here's the thing: I genuinely can't imagine Cater being able to 'love' in the classic, romantic way - I'm not sure if it's projecting onto him or a deep understanding of his personality but I just can't see him being in love as your average romance novel describes. He shows his love in other ways and I swear by hell itself, Trey is one of the main targets of that affection (in my opinion, at least).

If you ask me, he has a lot of commitment issues due to his past and the lack of stable friendships. There are also some nuances of trust issues mixed in that, due to the learned mindset of "It won't last forever" that he had acquired throughout his life. He keeps people at an arms length, possibly to protect others and himself for the, eventually coming, parting. "If I don't get attached too close, it won't hurt as bad."

We can, in fact, see Cater do this in canon - Especially with Trey because he sees through his act. I do love to point out the Wish Upon a Star event where we have a, in my opinion, very important scene and I do have to admit that I honestly got emotional at the end of it: Trey asks Cater what his wish is - Having more success on Magicam (which is one hell of a predictable answer if you ask me). Trey points out he did wish for that the past year, remembering it from the time they shared a room. Cater then wishes for his life to be "chill", and they part ways. Standing in the Heartslabyul staircase, Trey talks to himself on how one 'would think that Cater would open up a bit more by now.' Following with a (in my opinion it sounded sad/upset) 'But maybe he does already. Just not with me.' (I do recommend to watch the scene on your own to get your own impression on it. You can easily find it on YouTube).

Yet, despite the seemingly distance, they're still considered a duo that is unsurprising to any student (Lilia calls Trey Caters Partner and Rook refers to Cater as Treys "Boon Companion").

I had the HC for a long time that Cater may try to escape his issues at home by going with Trey instead and only later I found out that it's not too far from canon. Trey most likely also knows about Caters' situation at home, which is seen in multiple different situations - which, if you ask me, is already a deep trust coming from Caters side.

Overall, they know each other's strengths AND weaknesses and know how to match each other well. Whether it is Cater boosting Treys confidence about his looks or Trey pointing out Caters skills in Astrology (and many other things but I ain't gonna point every single of them out rn).

Speaking of weaknesses and strengths: Remember how Trey called Cater out after Riddles OB?

[Including the Manga panel because Boy, do I love this one]

A while ago, I've read through Caters Birthday Boy Voicelines and you know what? This guy has been gifted a "diamond-shaped quiche" from "a student". While no names dropped, we all know who made this one - Especially because Cater does seem to be quite fond of Treys general cooking and baking, if it's not sweet, of course. Not that I can blame him, spicy dishes aren't easy to make. You can fuck them up easily and if your man can cook 'em well, you better marry him.

But enough of Cater, there is too much to unpack about him to show it all. Let's move on to Trey, which is not as easy as it first sounds like. Why, you ask? Well, because he's showing even less than Cater! Both of them are chronic actors, both hiding their true, their damaged, their 'weird' faces - acting to be 'normal', to not freak people out, to not make them worry. Trey is a really good example of the 'oldest child' syndrome, which is, in return, quite bad for him - But that turns his friendship with Cater into a positive thing. Ahem, one step at a time.

Why is Trey a perfect example of the 'oldest child' syndrome? Well, he's "oh so normal", yes? Or so they say, after all. If you're the oldest child, you need to be a certain way - not only for your parents or your siblings but for your own safety. As the oldest child, you're bound to be a "test subject". No matter how good your childhood may have been, your siblings will have a seemingly, easier path - Things you weren't allowed are suddenly okay for them to do. Your siblings have an older sibling to rely on while you, as the oldest, had to fight alone. You need to protect the younger ones because it's expected but you need to keep yourself running too because no one does it for you. By being born first, you're practically forced to be in a position of a role model, a teacher and a friend.

Especially if you're having odd interests, such as oral hygiene, mustard, hats and what-not - You are forced to act normal because you will be looked at weird otherwise (I mean, he's friends with the perfect example on what happens if you express your "weirdness" out loud: Rook Hunt). I really like to put Trey on a scale when it comes to "Acts normal, is weird" because if you're weird, there are three types:

1. Rook Hunt - Expresses weirdness out loud with no shame

2. Jade Leech - Suppresses weirdness but the suppression has become weird on his own because he's weird in quiet

3. Trey Clover - Swears to be normal and is successful for the most of it, does show weirdness in little moments

All three of them have different reasons, and valid ones once you realize why they're that way, to be the way they are but in the end, they're three weird people who have learned how to "express" their oddness.

[Disclaimer: I am not using weird as an insult. This term is used to refer to socially not as accepted behavior or actions that are frowned upon. In other words: I am using society's definition of "weird" and not my own.]

Anyways, despite being the oldest child he is, Trey still shows Cater a bit of the truth: Instead of awkwardly smiling when he's uncomfortable, Trey stops smiling if he's with Cater. And in the Vignette of Treys Dorm Uniform, we can see that Cater knows a few more faces of Trey that are rarely seen otherwise - In the given example: It was Treys pettiness, deserved but it was still a rare emotion. If I recall correctly, this Vignette was the only time where we had seen Treys' pettiness, which was quite satisfying to see but that's just my two cents.

It's just so genuinely fascinating to see how similar yet so different they are, it makes both of them a tragic lovestory (if wanted) that drags me across the entire planet and I'd thank them for that.

And what I personally find almost mesmerizing is Caters actions: On one side, he seems to keep Trey not too close, yet he seems to have a lot of trust in him and I think it's unintentionally mentally messing with him because it may not be intentional. I could see that Trey might have this specific vibe that makes Cater feel comfortable and chatty about topics he wouldn't often talk about (specifically when they're both alone). Another guess of mine is that Cater might make too many jokes about certain parts of his trauma/issues and instead of his other pals, Trey actually looks behind the "jokes" because as much coping with humor may help, it's still a way to vocalize pain. But Trey doesn't strike me to be the type of actually calling Caters jokes out the moment he does them (example that I just made up: "Man, my phone died. Wish that was me lol" "Cater, those jokes aren't funny" etc etc). I think he'd have a more subtle way of showing Cater that he saw through that laughing, such as speaking up when it feels appropriate (Book 1) or just acts of service and/or quality time - Simply showing him that Cater does have someone who listens.

I've lost track at least five times and I forgot half of what I wanted to add.. Man, I hate my brain sometimes. I also often try to express my thoughts about these in my memes - In fact, the Memes with/about Cater, Trey or both of them together are possibly the posts where I'm carefully inspecting if it fits the canon and my own pov of them. I do it for all my memes, of course but I want people to deeply understand how much of a disaster those two (both, on their own and together) are because it's extremely overlooked, in my opinion (especially Trey).

Anyways, have this very neat HC of mine that I have about those two because it has been rotting away in my brain (I had intended to add more HCs but it somehow doesn't fit in the text):

Whenever Cater uses his UM 'Split Card', Trey knows which Cater is the original one. They may be identical but Trey can still tell the difference. How? He isn't really sure himself, it might be just his instinct. Cater has made it a game at some point where he wants Trey to guess and has tried many ways to lead his instinct astray but he has yet to succeed.

Edit: For more rambling about those two, do check the reblogs :)

[noeou]

A NEW ADDITION.

what if you moved into their dorm instead of ramshackle? ( or, life in the heartslabyul dorm. )

includes: riddle rosehearts, trey clover, cater diamond, ace trappola, and deuce spade. ( gn!reader )

contains: fluff! can be interpreted as romantic or platonic, just really close.

more like this: masterlist.

[ riddle rosehearts | housewarden ]

riddle is very much 'all up in your business' for a lack of better words. he's always making sure your room is tidy and in peak condition.

if you have any issues at all, regarding the dorms or studies, he's the person (he'd like you) to go to. if he sees someone else helping you with something he exceeds in, he'll be down for a bit.

you become the dorms designated defense attorney, to stand up againt riddle whenever one of them gets in trouble. it's totally not because he has obvious favoritism.

whenever it's your turn to paint the roses red or take care of the flamingos and hedgehogs, he always joins you.

using the excues that 'it would hurt to go back to the basics after a while' but he knows it's because it's the only time you two get alone together, uninterrupted.

riddle convinces you to join the horseback riding club with him, or at least ride with him every once in the while. with no warning he may wake you bright and early just to say you'll be joining him.

[ trey clover | vice housewarden ]

errands have never been more fun. you guys are sam's biggest customers, as you shop for a majority of your dorm. it's nice not having to leave campus for such things.

whenever he goes out he asks if you need anything, on the rare occasions you don't join him.

he always gets or prepares dinner for you, riddle, and cater.

being the more approachable warden, most students come to him. upon seeing you're also a valuable person to go to for help or advice they do so.

at first, trey is very apologetic about the extra work but them becomes grateful when he sees it doesn't both you.

sometimes the freshman duo, but they mostly are out and about.

once a month, you two eat out at the lounge as a reward for the both of your hard efforts.

[ cater diamond | third year ]

barges in your room, if he's not already in there, while he's on live. no matter what you're doing. (of course, unless you tell him you're busy/srs beforehand.)

you're a reacurring face on his magecam, and they all love you. the amount of stan accounts is unreal.

your room is pretty much like his second one, he has his own corner even. each weekend he shows up to your door with a suitcase, 'cause the wardens won't let him stay on week nights.

on said weekends, you trick him into going 'grocery shopping' with you by disguising it as a 'snack run.'

he's always annoying you and asking for your opinion on everything.

he was very strategic and asks riddle to put you room next to his, when the warden says no he settles for a very specific room number for you. turns out you're now under his room and have to put up with his stomping.

if you listen carefully, you might be able to decipher morse code, but what do i know?

[ ace trappola | first year ] + [ deuce spade | first year ]

you three become inseparable, skipping down the heartslabyul halls with grim hanging onto your head for dear life.

ace is another one that is constantly bothering you, much unlike deuce who's just kinda there.

you three have weekly sleepovers in deuce's room, because it's the tidiest. and microwaveable dinner from sam's because none of you can afford the lounge.

when you go out for groceries, it's you and deuce getting the things you need and ace running around putting random items in your cart.

sometimes you guys sneak out of the dorms, and walk around the sleeping campus. you only head back when you exhale fog, knowing it's probably near morning.

you guys eat in the most obscure places, in school and your dorm. you always find hidden rooms in heartslabyul and make it your new 'spot' until you get caught and just find another when you do.

your punishments from riddle now consist of being unable to leave your rooms and see each other, telling other punished students to guard your bedrooms.

you one hundred percent have walkie talkies and peak out your window, judging poor passerby's outfits.

[buttercream-princess]

Modern Will Turner fluffy & spicy head canon x blackfem! Reader

Warnings: Light smut, pregnancy kink, swearing, fluff, edging, mentions of your family members, tattoo's, spanking

(Not edited or proof-read)

Note: I write most of my characters in modern settings, so this won’t be any different. I may write about him in POTC in the future but that’s something I need to chop up. Also first time writing a headcannon, this was fun making, I'm looking forward to doing some more for Will/Legolas/Orlando.

— Will is very attentive and never misses a single thing. Anything you have interest in, he’ll use his own bare hands to recreate it for you. You like candles? Here’s 1kg worth of candles in all your favorite scents. You like plushies and stuffed animals? Build a bear has nothing on Will’s craftsmanship, he made a lifesize teddy for you to cuddle when he’s not around. He’ll even order parts for his creations from overseas, no matter the price tag, to give you the perfect gift.

—- Adding onto how crafty he is, you never have to worry about breaking anything because Will is always happy to fix it for you and he always does so, effortlessly. He’s tactile and amazing with his hands.

—- He knocked down a wall in his house between his office and guest bedroom, renovated the room, painted the walls your favorite colors and furnished it with all your favourite things including a wall hung TV, neon lights, a pink desktop and plants. Just so you can have your own space when you’re at his house. He wants you to feel like his home is yours too.

—- He loves going to IKEA with you, it’s like a playground for him to find things to build for you and your room. When you get Hotdogs in the food court with him later and get mustard on your face, he’ll grab you by the chin and lick the sauce off. Anytime you get food on your face, he does this. Why wipe it off when he can just clean it off you?

—- Will’s intelligence is unlike anyone you’ve met before, but when he’s not using his head, he’s a bit of a himbo, giving off strong Kenergy. He might know how to solve enigmatic riddles quickly and build houses from scratch but he’s clueless when it comes to most general things. He’ll always regard you as the smarter one in the relationship. In his mind you’re everything and he’s just Will. He adores you that much.

—- He has a tattoo of your name and a blue butterfly next to it on his hip bone. This man is whipped. Gone and lost in your love. He’s considering getting your initials tattooed behind his ear.

—-  Will’s independent by nature but gosh, he is one needy motherfucker, but in the most adorable way. He’s coming with you to run errands to the beauty store, late night Target trips or waiting in the corner of the salon while you get your nails done. And he’s always paying, he never lets your credit card touch the reader.

—- Will can listen to you talk for hours about your life and yourself. He finds everything about you whimsical, enchanting and seductive. Even if you’re babbling about delusions and made up scenarios, he’ll react with big emotions like it’s happening right in the moment just because he loves you that much.

—- Will collects records that you love listening to. He says, “The record is always better than streaming it.”

—- Will use to only listen to symphonies and classical music before you came into his life. Now, he listens to everything you listen to. He’s fallen in love with Neo-soul and R&B and refuses to listen to anything else.

—- His favorite song is “Stay Ready (What A Life) by Jhene Aiko and forever dedicates that tune to you. Whenever the song plays, he always sings to you, “They say the truth ain't pretty. But comin’ out that pretty mouth the truth is fitting. Cuz you ain't never talkin loud and you know plenty. Yea you know what I'm talkin bout, cuz you just get me, Yea you so pretty”, And he means every word of it. That song was written just for you, he believes.

—- Even though you and Will are just dating and don’t have kids, he always refers to you as “His wife” or “Mother of my children”

—- Will’s favorite part of being intimate with you is undressing you. There’s something about seeing you come undone only and all for him, that makes him want to be closer to you, underneath your skin even.

—- Will love’s quickies and to give you a quick orgasm in the middle of the day. But there’s nothing he loves more than giving you a sensual, candle lit, slow jam’s experience. After a long day at work, expect Will to be ready for you with a bottle of aromatherapy bottle oil, ready to iron out all your tight muscles and kinks. And of course, this massage always leads to him giving you and internal rub down too. 

—- Will edges you any chance he gets. Sometimes you just wanna snatch your vibrator off him and hit him with it because he won’t let you cum. But he always lets you finally get off if you ask him kindly. He likes manner’s in the bedroom.

—- He has a pregnancy kink. He always moans about putting a baby in you while having sex. So you can imagine he always wants to do it raw. He always begs for you to wrap your legs and arms around him while he cums.

— He gives you warnings in the bedroom if you’re rushing the pleasure too quickly. Will believes pleasure should be savored and reveled in. Greedily chasing your release and out of warnings? That’s a hard pop to your behind, leaving your cheeks red and sore. But he quickly runs his hand over your skin, soothing you. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. See what happens when you don’t listen? Hmmm?” he murmurs in your ear before sliding two fingers back in you.

—- Only with you, Will reveals how intimidating he is in the bedroom. But in front of others, he’s the most kind respectful gentleman anyone has ever met. All your friends and everyone in your family loves him. He quickly picks up on social dynamics and easily blends himself into the environment as if he was always a part of it. You can find Will at family barbecues, bonding with your uncles over different cuts of meat and taking over the grill, which your father never allows but Will’s charmingly convincing.

—- Will always plays house and dress up with your younger family members. He takes it seriously too. You best believe he’s rocking a blue lid and red lippie with confidence after playing makeovers. 

—- Will comes with you to all your social events, he just loves being around you and hyping you up in all settings. You can find him at clubs, bars and music festivals, right behind you, jamming out and spreading the good vibes. He’s even buying you and your girls rounds of bottomless cocktails at brunch.

—- Will’s a fencing prodigy, of course. He also practices MMA. His strength, determination and will is unmatched. You love sitting in the audience of his matches when he’s given trophies, standing the breathless, T-shirtless and sweaty, dressed in his little fitted shorts showing all his business, knowing that’s all yours.

—- After matches in the ring or on the mats, Will just wants to cozy himself up under your shirt, cuddling you and weakly lying against your skin. 

[bigratsdeservebigpats]

Overblot Victims witnessing Yuu finally having enough of the overblots and stuff happening in the school that they basically scream into Crowley's face how sick and tired they are of seeing everyone, including themselves and the victims, suffer because of Crowley's irresponsibility.

These are so fun to write lol

It’s exhausting. 

Surely, if Yuu had magic, they would have overblotted themselves. It’s cruel to say they wish they could, that all their pain could be condensed into a single little rock and thrown into the ocean or the gaping maw of their cat, and all their troubles and worries would disappear. But they were the magicless prefect, and the Perfect Scapegoat. Because without that physical manifestation of anger and pain and suffering, they would never be heard. Because without consequences, actions wouldn’t matter. 

Like ink, these angers stain them. Like tar, they are dragged further by sticky, viscous threats. Like a black hole itself, they cannot escape, stretched impossibly thin where even their screams come out as a warbled, compliant, yes. 

Dorm meetings are incredibly, irrevocably important to the health of the students, as it is how the principle makes decisions that would best suit the student body, so it must be no wonder that everyone has suffered. For a man who’s very office gives him a view of the entire school, his mask must function more as a blindfold. 

For once, everyone is present for the dorm meetings. How this is possible? It’s because Yuu had to make sure everyone got their invites and arrived on time. The only one who physically and spiritually could NOT show, was Kalim, who was redoing an alchemy final he had failed. Therefore, Jamil would take his place. 

So all the dorms are here, even Malleus who they had to remind constantly, and Leona, who they physically had to drag. Everyone is here except one bastard. One bird brained, cackling motherfucker, who had decided that Yuu had enough time on their hands to deal with this VERY IMPORTANT FACTOR OF HIS OWN JOB.

They wouldn’t handle this treatment anymore. They couldn’t. There was already so much on their plate. They needed to keep their HOUSE from collapsing, they needed to reshape their entire perspective on what was possible to pass the most basic of tests, they needed to babysit a rampant, selfish … thing, they needed to worry about whether they would even have enough thaumarks to even eat, and now?

Even if ink does not flood the room, or fire does not singe the ground, the dorm leaders can feel the air thicken, the very atmosphere sinking over them with unparalleled pressure. No one can speak, let alone breathe as Yuu’s fingers drum the hollow surface of the desk. Their anger rolls off them in thick, misty waves, and when they finally stand, all eyes turn to them. “I’ll go fetch Dire Crowley myself then.”

“Prefect, I’m sure we can start without-” Azul is the first to jump in. This isn’t the first time he’s bartered with someone, so hopefully he can de-escalate the citation, but his words are instantly shot down. 

“I just wanna talk to em.” They grab a fountain pen off the desk, pricking their finger over the edge a few times. Malleus gulps. 

“W-Why do you have that pen.” Jamil is the one to jump up, he knows when someone is about to do something that may or may not have horrible consequences, but he is definitely not going to jump in the way of the steel nub. This was a different citation than trying to reason with Kalim. 

“I just wanna talk to em.” Yuu repeats, testing the swing of their pen before making a beeline to the door. Idia’s tablet flies out of the way with a squeal, but a few of the dorm members aren’t as cowardly. 

“This is ridiculous-” Leona starts, rubbing his temples at the sheer insanity of it all.

“I just wanna talk to em.”

“Put that pen away!” Riddle has dealt with annoyances and threats and all sorts of stresses, but this isn’t one of those hollow, tasteless messages. He could understand the feeling, but really, what were they gonna do with the pen against the head of NRC? He worried more about Yuu doing something stupid than anything. “What is- wh-what are you doing?”

“I just wanna talk to em.” The door slams with a deafening blow that rattles the very floor they stood. In the silence left behind, the dorm members share a knowing, worried glance before scurrying after like rats. 

-+-

The french doors that block off Crowleys office are ornate, drenched in a dreamy purple and highlighted with seven golden starlike symbols, the door handles meet together in three circles, oddly reminiscent of a certain mouse in their mirror. One of the more impressive parts had to be the door knocker, which was entirely unnecessary seeing as it led to a single, empty room.

Most people disregard it, but this time, Yuu disregarded knocking at all because he lost the respect and the dignity that basic humans deserved. 

Playing cards flew up like scattering crows, feet propped on the desk suddenly crossed neat and tidy on the ground. “Why if it isn’t the Prefect! I thought you would be hard at work collecting notes at the meeting!” 

His laughter fell on deaf ears, crossing the needlessly large space to the other side of his desk. “Get out of that seat. Stand up. Stand the fuck up.”

“Y-yes? Is something the matter? I’m a bit busy at the moment-!” Playing solitaire, that is. Brandishing the sharp nib of the fountain pen was enough to get him out of the way. He certainly didn’t expect the Prefect to sit down and prop their own feet on the desk. “And just what are you doing!”

“I’m the fucking principal now. Get out of my office you useless sack of shit and feathers.” The pen broke down on the desk, embedding itself in the center of the mahogany surface. Even if the poor table couldn’t scream, Crowley would do the honors. 

“That table is as old as the school! Crafted by the most talented of woodworkers! By the most grand and wise of trees!”

“Yea well now it’s my goddamn footrest. Are you deaf or just stupid? I’m the principal. Get out of my office. I’m gonna make this place as decrepit as the shitty ruins I live in.” Yuu leaned back, spinning in their seat to face the unkept image of the one and only, Dire Crowley. 

“And just who made you principal? This is a direct violation of-”

“I got rid of that rule, then. And it was voted on at the Dorm meeting.” They spun again, picking up one of the cards still on the table. The Joker. How fitting.

“That couldn't have-”

“And how would you know?” Eying the yellow divots in his mask, Yuu didn’t bother to let him speak. “You weren’t there. You don’t listen to your students. You don’t care about their health or their mental wellbeing. You talk as if you are the kindest ever, yet the Blots that are supposed to be rare, happen every month. Every single month, and you know why? It’s your negligence, and your lack of teaching and your shitty, greedy ideals. You are the denominator!”

“Yuu! Just what is the meaning of this behavior! I will not tolerate-” He leaned over the seat, so close that the edge of his crow mask threatened to gouge a part of their face out. 

“Tolerate? Oh, you wanna talk tolerating?!” They stood again, forcing the pen out from its upright position in the table to prod it against his chest, leaving black stains on his clothing. “Do you know what I have to deal with because of you?? Do you know what I lost and might never get back because of you?!? I can’t see my family anymore! I can’t see my friends anymore! They don’t even know if I’m okay or heck, even alive, and you in all your kindness, in all that slimy, filthy, fake gratuity, take advantage of it! You treat me like a servant, and then say that you are the one doing me a favor!”

The pen snaps, spilling ink down the front of his shirt. 

“If you really want this place to improve, then you’ll get the fuck out of here. But I know you won’t. I know that you won’t leave until it’s beneficial for you. So you know what? I’m gonna overblot. I’m gonna destroy everything until there’s nothing but crumbs for you to pick at, because that might be the only way you’ll ever learn.” They drop the pen, smearing the leaking ink off their hand with the leather of his fancy chair. He can take everything done today as collateral damage.

The door opens, and there stands several dorm leaders, who awkwardly back away to let Yuu pass. It’s obvious they’ve followed the Prefect from the beginning, and heard everything, but there wasn’t exactly a moment that could burst in, or needed to for that fact. 

Grim was right, Yuu goes for the jugular.