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written-in-knife · 2 months ago

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@jadecat4 On it🫡

Blessed

Riddle, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia

Written with fem!reader in mind, can be read as any gender, literal hurt/comfort, swearing, kinda fluffy

tw: graphic descriptions of injuries, getting hit by vehicles, and hit and runs

Average around 650 words per character

pt.1 :: pt.2 :: pt.3 coming soon

Rounding out the housewardens, most of these dudes are canonical crybabies, I'm so excited lmaoo These are actually really fun to write? I'm most likely going to do more of these for everybody else, so stay tuned for that I guess. Also I'm a tags yapper if yall have any interest in my commentary

Riddle Rosehearts

It took you a long time of dating Riddle to convince him to leave campus with you. He had responsibilities, an entire dormitory of students to keep an eye on, he couldn't do that if he left campus with you. He only agreed to it after midterms were over and after you got Trey to promise he would uphold the set standards for a single evening. Even then, it was hard to get him to leave.

"My love, we're going to dinner, not on vacation." You teased as he went over his list with Trey for a fourth time. "Trey promised he would call if anything goes wrong, you'd be back here in fifteen minutes at most."

"I-I know!" He stammered, cheeks flushing at your light tone. "I just want to be sure."

He was able to get through the list once more before you pulled him out the door, Trey giving him a friendly shove on the way out. It's not as if the two of you had never been on dates before, but they were smaller affairs around the campus, never out in public. He was surprised to find that it was actually much more relaxed off campus, not having to fear any ridicule or drop in reputation from strangers he would never see again if he did something especially embarrassing in his lovestruck state. And you made it incredibly easy to be lovestruck. You were well aware at this point of his aversion to PDA, which made it all the more surprising when he was the one to reach out and grab your hand after you'd left the restaurant. You chatted idly about the food, your week, the weather, anything that popped into your heads as you started back towards campus. It was all incredibly easy with you.

You made it into a more residential area, watching a group of young kids playing basketball at a hoop just off the sidewalk. Riddle pointed out one of the kids, joking that he reminded him of Ace as he made the shot and missed, sending the ball bouncing away. You stifled a laugh as you watched the boy chase after the ball into the road. It was clear the kid wasn't paying attention to anything but the ball as a car came speeding down the road. You were behind the kid before you even realized what you were doing, the driver of the car laying on the horn, trying to swerve out of the way, to slam on the brakes as you shoved the kid forward as hard as you could. Riddle watched in horror as the car knocked you to the ground, stopping on top of you, one of your arms pinned under the tire and only your head and shoulders sticking out from beneath. He ran to you, ignoring the crying child who ran back towards the house, and stooped down to try to see your injuries. The car started to back up, dragging you across the road as it did, the tire rolling off your elbow with a sickening crunch. He shouted for them to stop as your blood smeared across the road between you, but they couldn't hear him. Or maybe didn't care. The best he could do for you was grab you under the arms to keep you from dragging further. Once the car had backed up enough to see you again, they spun the wheel and hit the gas, planning to leave. Riddle instinctively flung a spell at them, hitting the back passenger side door and only resulting in them driving faster. He so badly wanted to chase after them, make sure they were brought to justice, but he couldn't just leave you. He was very careful in how he rolled you over, supporting your head and trying his best to keep your arm still. He had to see your injuries, he had to see what he needed to fix. Your face had slammed into the pavement from the force at which you were knocked down, your nose clearly shattered, a still growing goose egg on your forehead, skin was ripped and flayed from where you were dragged across the rough surface, and your elbow... He wasn't sure how to fix something so incredibly crushed, nearly unrecognizable. But he had to try. He tried to triage what looked the most life threatening, the head injury of course. It was hard to see where he was aiming as he kept trying to blink tears away. In the time it took him to think through his plan, your body had settled. He was about to start his spell when there was another chilling crunch, moving his hands to see your nose repositioning itself, the goose egg shrinking, the road rash weaving shut. Your eyes were open.

All he could do was watch, frozen, as you sat up and turned to him, your injuries all but gone by the time your hands landed on his shoulders. You were saying something to him, he couldn't make out the words over the relieved sobbing coming out of his mouth. You pulled him into your arms, holding him tight and close as he clung to you. Even upon returning to the dorm, he didn't let go of your hand-- PDA be damned-- as he dragged you to his room. You weren't going to be leaving his side for a bit while he processed what happened, and with him so close, you really didn't mind.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul often bribed you to accompany him to town to meet with his vendors, promising to get you whatever you wished if you simply kept him company. You didn't need to be bribed to spend time with him, but if it made him feel better about asking, you weren't about to stop him. It was always fun spending time with him, especially when you were able to introduce him to new things. The first time you suggested boba was a treat to watch as his expression went through several stages of confusion before eventually coming to the conclusion that he did, in fact, enjoy it.

This time he took you for smoothies after meeting with his final vendor. You tried to always keep your requests from going too far out of the way and this one was just across the street. You listened intently to him talk about a new drink he wanted to serve at the lounge, an affogato. Apparently Floyd had read about it online and demanded to try it. He talked about how it ended up being quite enjoyable as he reached into the pocket of his jacket, trailing off as he reached into the other. You watched him pat around at his pockets for a second before groaning, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'm sorry, my pearl, I think I left my wallet..." He sighed heavily.

"No, you had it when we left." You reminded him. "You probably just left it across the street. Save our spot, I'll go get it."

You gave him a wide smile and a kiss on the cheek, stopping any argument he may have had and running out of the building before he could come up with a new one. He chuckled at your antics and shook his head, watching you jog up to the street for a moment before turning back to the menu to see what he would want. While examining the menu, he heard a loud gasp and a "holy shit" from other patrons. He was going to ignore it when he heard one of them say "they hit somebody and they're just gonna drive away?!" Azul's head snapped around so fast, he worried he may strain something, until he looked out the large windows past the worried patrons. He couldn't see much, but he did spot hair that looked far too similar to yours. In the road. His heart dropped, and he silently begged that it wasn't you as he bolted out of the shop to the scene of the accident. His resolve nearly shattered as he approached. It was you. Broken limbs and torn skin and so much blood crumpled in the middle of the road. He barely thought about it as he ran forward, stammering out healing spells to try to fix it. He would do anything, pay any price, for this to not be happening, not be real. He tried so hard to choke down the sobs in his throat to keep working on you, because it was working! Skin was stitching back together, bones were popping back into place... He wasn't doing this. He pulled his hands away as he watched you grab your own mangled arm, shaking it out like a dish rag to pop the bones back into their correct place, groaning only slightly as you did. He was still choking back sobs as you sat up and turned to him.

"So, what flavor are you getting?"

The question stopped everything dead in its tracks, the tears, his shaking, his breath. He just stared blankly at you for a moment before he broke out laughing at the ridiculousness, which quickly devolved into crying. You apologized quickly, picking the both of you off the ground to just go home. He didn't care about his wallet, he didn't care about his image, he just wanted to go home with you, glad that he still could.

Kalim Al Asim

You and Kalim snuck out on occasion to go do things in town without Jamil, turning your phones off to keep him from calling you. More often than not, it was just the two of you wandering around, enjoying each other's company. You'd ended up finding some really cool spots on these outings; an arcade, a candy store, a little art studio that was only open to the public three days a week, even a little shop that made their own henna. Kalim was always excited to go and find more with you, always with you. He figured the plain clothes of his club outfit made it harder for people to recognize him and called it good enough, plus it made the lie that he was just going to club meetings easier for Jamil to believe. You usually ended up wearing his hat or flannel while you were out, Kalim loving to see you in his clothing usually distracted him from buying out everything that even partially caught your eye.

The two of you were walking out of a shop, fingers intertwined, you laughing at something Kalim was gushing about. You'd barely made it halfway down the block when there was a squeal of tires from behind you, and you glanced back just in time to see a black van with tinted windows hopping the curb to barrel in your direction. You barely had time to shove Kalim into the recessed doorway of a shop as the van sped down the sidewalk, bowling over you with ease before popping back into the road and speeding away. Kalim couldn't see you from the doorway, you'd been dragged further down. He started to praise you for being so quick to save you both as he got back to his feet and returned to the sidewalk. The praise died in his throat with a strained gasp when he spotted you, mangled form limp on the concrete. He wasted no time ripping his phone out of his pocket, holding the button down to turn it back on as he ran. He was already sobbing heavily as he scooped you into his arms, he tried not to think about the way your spine moved too easily, or how your legs were bent in the wrong places at the wrong angles. He held your too still body against his chest like it would shield you from what had already happened, blood soaking into the white shirt, into his skin. He could feel it slicking his hands. The second his phone was back on, he dialed Jamil who answered in one ring. Kalim didn't give him a chance to get a word out as he sobbed incoherent explanations and directions to him, begging him to come help, to come save you. He was too distracted trying to give Jamil directions to where they were, eyes too full of tears to see your legs pop back into place. It wasn't until he felt you reach up to crack your neck back into the correct position that he froze, quickly looking down to see you laying in his arms as if nothing had happened, smiling sweetly up at him. But he could still feel your blood on his hands. He resumed his sobbing, dropping his phone to the ground to put both of his arms around you, holding you as tight as he could allow himself to as he cried into your shoulder.

When you made it back to the dorm, after getting cleaned up, Jamil sat the two of you down in Kalim's room to lecture you about how reckless and irresponsible these trips had always been, how the van had likely been aiming for him. Kalim wasn't listening, not fully. He'd tangled his limbs up in yours, holding you close with his ear resting over your heart to listen to it beat as you combed your fingers through his hair. You responded to his every whispered apology with quiet reassurance, and he could do nothing but believe you when you told him it was going to be alright.

Vil Schoenheit

You'd gotten permission to leave campus for the full weekend with Vil as his date for his latest movie premiere in Maquillaville. The first day went by in a daze of flashing lights and shouted directions, the only thing keeping you from being too overwhelmed was Vil, always at your side. Fingers laced with yours, an arm around your waist, he could tell when you were getting too tense and was right there to ground you again. Despite the absolute flurry of activity, it was actually a highly enjoyable time. The movie was amazing, Vil had done a remarkable job in his role, even if he was sick of being type cast. You held hands through the entire premiere, Vil lifting your hand to his lips to gently kiss your knuckles when you quietly gushed about him being on screen.

The next morning, you headed out to the train station. Vil planned for the two of you to take the long way back to school so you both could bask in not having any responsibilities for one day. You were hoisting the bags out of the trunk of the cab and passing them to Vil on the sidewalk as he talked about what you could do to pass the time in the private cabin. You'd handed him the last bag with a smile and were closing the trunk when you heard a loud crunch from behind you. You didn't have time to turn around before the car behind you was pushed forward and slammed into your back, crushing you between the two vehicles. Vil screamed your name as he watched the car that had caused the accident back away from the one it had slammed into you and sped away. He was pissed that they were just leaving, but there were more pressing matters to attend to. He couldn't see any of your injuries yet, your lower half still firmly pinned between the cars, but there was a distressing amount of blood pooling at your feet and you had yet to lift your head. He could feel tears streaming down his cheeks as he grabbed your hand the same way he had at the premiere, albeit shaky and a lot tighter. There was no warning when the cab pulled forward to release you from the pin, no way for Vil to keep you from just crumpling to the ground at his feet. He paid no mind to the blood that would soak into his pants as he knelt down next to you, lifting your head to rest in his lap. He only got to see how disfigured your pelvis and upper legs were for a moment before they started to move, flattened bones filling back out to return to their normal shape. He was too focused on your injuries disappearing before his eyes to notice your hand reach up to cup his cheek, causing him to startle and yelp.

"Are we going to miss our train?" You asked, far too casually for his liking.

He sighed heavily, leaning his head further into your touch. "Yes, darling, we are going to miss our train."

Idia Shroud

It was hard enough as is to get Idia to leave his room, let alone Ignihyde, let alone the campus. There was one thing you could get him to join you for in town, and that was game releases. There was just something about waiting in line for a physical copy release. You didn't know if it was the nostalgia or what, but it got Idia off campus with you early in the morning to wait for the store to open. And so what if afterwards you dragged him somewhere in public to grab breakfast? He was already off campus, how much worse could it possibly get?

The two of you hadn't even made it to the diner yet, Idia hidden in his hoodie listening to you excitedly talk about this new game release and how you couldn't wait to play it with him. He'd chime in with his own commentary here and there, just loud enough for you to hear him, while giving the minimal strangers on the sidewalk a wide berth. He pulled out his phone to look up the answer to a question you'd asked about it, while you pulled slightly ahead of him to cross the road. He'd only looked down for a second when he heard tires squeal, then a sickening thud and crunch. In the brief moment it took for him to look down at his phone, and back up, you were laid out on the pavement, a car peeling off down the street away from the scene. He nearly fumbled his phone in his hurry to press the emergency beacon for Ortho to follow as he hurried over to you.

"No, no, no..."

The sight was nearly enough to make him pass out; the back of your shirt ripped open-- a disturbing amount of skin along with it-- from where the car went over top of you, your hand and one of your legs were nearly unrecognizable from where they had been crushed under the wheels, your hand was too close to your head, way too close. He ripped his hoodie off, pressing it into the large wound on your back with shaking hands. He couldn't do this again, he couldn't lose another person that meant so much to him, not again. He was begging for you to stay with him under his breath, through his panicked tears, when he felt movement under his hands. He saw the disfigured shape of what had been your hand start to writhe with the movement of the bones underneath as they returned to their correct placements. That was all he saw before he passed out. When he came back to, he was in his bed in the dorm. For a moment, he thought it was just another horrible nightmare until he looked over and saw you at his desk, wearing one of his clean hoodies, playing on your phone with the start menu of the game the two of you had picked up on his screen. You glanced over, giving him a wide smile when you met his eyes, as if you hadn't been mutilated in the road the last time he saw you.

"Hey, you okay?" You asked, moving over to sit next to him on the bed.

He didn't say anything, just grabbed your hand-- the one that had been crushed-- and pulled it to him to press the back of it against his cheek. He probably wasn't okay, but he was so immensely glad that you were.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO USE MY WORK TO TRAIN AI

MASTERLIST

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