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#Maze of the Manor
colloquialcolors · 2 months
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in similar vein to reading watership down and being pleasantly surprised by how hopeful it was i have now finished reading haunting of hill house and have been kind of pleasantly surprised by how. sapphic. it was. i mean its a horror story and has left me with the correct sense of sort of quiet unease and like. im going to need to think about it for a while and like. damn. but it also was QUITE queer in ways i was not expecting going in. so thats fun! (said while thinking about houses and walls and unreliable narrators and dissolving sense of self)
#i shouldnt be surprised i saw this mentioned briefly but. i still am.#like the horrors are happening and are going to happen and thats what im here for but hey! gays. wow. crazy stuff#or maybe its just because i speed read half of verity and the amount of plot inextricably tied to the main character(s) being deeply in lov#w/ attracted to the leading man just makes this seem. refreshing. in comparison#like the gayness absolutely takes a backseat to the uhHhHhhhhH descent into madness and eleanor being consumed by(? merging into? returning#to? etc etc) the house. but. its also IN the backseat yk. like the obsession and the nature of the relationship with theo is an inextricabl#part of the story and its progression even if you choose not to read it as queer.#even if you dont percieve it as SAPPHIC per se its certainly. well. you know. its SOMETHING and IMPORTANT which is what i rlly fuck with#anyway. eleanor gets taken by the house and the walls and its all done using the maze in her mind or w/e. idk how to phrase any of my#thoughts abt this just yet but. fascinating. /fascinating/#sysreading#i guess#haunting of hill house#also theres a show? i knew bly manor was the . gay one but maybe? i should watch....? 🧐 horror show tho...#eleanor is so. flawed and so trapped in her own head and so much at the mercy of her own thinking. and it's hard to say how much of that is#the house influencing her vs the house simply using what is already there and amplifying#eleanor trapped- not just by the house but by her own thinking
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Maze Manor - Teaser
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Yesterday I accidentally started a new project because an awesome story concept popped into my head!
Meet Vesper!
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prompt-heaven · 7 months
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a list of 100+ buildings to put in your fantasy town
academy
adventurer's guild
alchemist
apiary
apothecary
aquarium
armory
art gallery
bakery
bank
barber
barracks
bathhouse
blacksmith
boathouse
book store
bookbinder
botanical garden
brothel
butcher
carpenter
cartographer
casino
castle
cobbler
coffee shop
council chamber
court house
crypt for the noble family
dentist
distillery
docks
dovecot
dyer
embassy
farmer's market
fighting pit
fishmonger
fortune teller
gallows
gatehouse
general store
graveyard
greenhouses
guard post
guildhall
gymnasium
haberdashery
haunted house
hedge maze
herbalist
hospice
hospital
house for sale
inn
jail
jeweller
kindergarten
leatherworker
library
locksmith
mail courier
manor house
market
mayor's house
monastery
morgue
museum
music shop
observatory
orchard
orphanage
outhouse
paper maker
pawnshop
pet shop
potion shop
potter
printmaker
quest board
residence
restricted zone
sawmill
school
scribe
sewer entrance
sheriff's office
shrine
silversmith
spa
speakeasy
spice merchant
sports stadium
stables
street market
tailor
tannery
tavern
tax collector
tea house
temple
textile shop
theatre
thieves guild
thrift store
tinker's workshop
town crier post
town square
townhall
toy store
trinket shop
warehouse
watchtower
water mill
weaver
well
windmill
wishing well
wizard tower
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tastytofusoup · 10 months
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Forcing brand new WoW players to go straight into BfA is stupid in general, but especially dungeons. The only dungeons they can queue for are Battle for Azeroth dungeons. Formerly level 110-120 dungeons. Not gradually easing in with the FAR simpler classic ones.
"Ah my first dungeon! I'm nervous, but after that easy starter area, I'm sure *checks notes* Waycrest Manor will be straight forward!"
oh no.
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theostrophywife · 3 months
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HEART ON MY SLEEVE
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🤍 pairing: mattheo riddle x reader.
🤍 song inspiration: friends by chase atlantic.
🤍 author's note: the duality of man. this fic serves both cute, fluffy matty and jealous, possessive mattheo.
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For his upcoming birthday, Mattheo Riddle had one simple wish: for his best friends to get along. 
It shouldn’t have been such an ordeal except for the fact that you and Theo absolutely hated each other. If it weren’t for Mattheo, the two of you would have no reason to cross paths. Theo was an arrogant, pompous, quidditch playing prick with a terrible nicotine addiction while the closest you’d come to physical exertion is carrying your weekly stack of books from the library to your dorm. 
Needless to say, you were not a fan of Theodore Nott. You thought he was a bad influence on Matty, while Theo labeled you as the buzzkill, often talking your best friend out of doing things that would either land him in detention or the infirmary. You got the feeling that Theo hated the fact that he had to share Mattheo’s attention with you. Never mind the fact that you were friends with him first. 
The origin of your friendship started long before your days at Hogwarts. The first time you met Mattheo, his father invited you and your parents over at Riddle Manor to celebrate a successful business deal between your families. Even at a young age, you remembered recognizing the coldness and distance in the Riddle household. The elder riddle, Tom Sr., was a stern and unforgiving man who kept his family under his thumb. Tom Jr. played the perfect heir; cool, calm, and collected as he stood by his father’s side. Mrs. Riddle had a severe and somber air about her that sent shivers down your spine as she flashed an empty smile at you. 
Mattheo was different from the rest. There was a warmth to him that radiated outwards, pulling you in with his cheeky dimpled smile and soft bouncing curls. He marched right up to you, bowing at the waist like he was taught to, except he nearly tripped over his feet and gave you a crooked little grin before correcting himself. 
“Hi, Y/N. I’m Mattheo, but you can call me Matt.” There was a mischievous glint in his brown eyes that you didn’t recognize as trouble until much later. “Do you want to play with me?” 
As it turns out, his definition of playing meant chasing each other through the hedge maze out on the manor grounds and absolutely dirtying up your pretty pink dress as you rolled around in the grass. You laid side by side on your backs, giggling as you tucked a flower into Mattheo’s curls. 
“You’re going to get me in trouble, you know,” you stated matter-of-factly as you rolled over on your elbows. “My dress is all dirty.” 
“Don’t worry, we can ask Tom to help us. He knows lots of spells and hexes.” He leaned in conspiratorially, holding his pinky finger out. “But you have to keep it a secret, okay? Can I trust you, Y/N?” 
You hooked your finger through his, not knowing that such a simple secret would forever solidify your friendship. “You can trust me, Matty.” 
In the years that followed, the two of you were as thick as thieves. Most days were spent at either the Riddle manor or your estate, which Mattheo tended to prefer since it provided him reprieve from his father. As of late, his parents had made it perfectly clear that he was expected to follow in his brother's footsteps. Despite it being Tom's first year at Hogwarts, he was already proving to be a gifted and talented wizard. When his father wasn't outright ignoring him, Mattheo was forced to practice hexes and spells that were beyond the knowledge of an eleven year old. Without his older brother to protect him, Mattheo felt the walls closing in in his grand yet inhospitable home.
You were the only silver lining in his otherwise dreary days. Mattheo thanked Merlin that his father allowed visits to your estate. Unlike Riddle Manor, your family home was warm, lovely, and full of life. During the summers, the two of you would venture out to the edge of your property and set up camp at the creek. The sunny days were spent swimming, climbing, and picking flowers from sunrise to sunset. On one particular day, you sat cross-legged on the picnic blanket, absentmindedly picking at the sandwich in your lap. 
Beside you, Mattheo nudged you with his knee. “What’s wrong, Y/N?”
You blinked, trying to savor the sunshine for as long as you could. “I don’t want summer to end.” 
“We’ll only be apart for a year,” Mattheo said softly, correctly guessing the cause of your apprehension. You weren’t surprised. He always seemed to know what was on your mind. “You’ll be joining me at Hogwarts before you know it. By then, I’ll be an expert so I can show you the ropes.” 
“A lot can happen in a year,” you stated. “What if you make other friends and forget about me?” 
“I might make other friends, but I’d never forget about you. You were my first friend ever. That makes you the most important.” 
You looked up and found yourself face to face with Mattheo’s earnest expression. The corners of his lips tugged upwards as he nudged you again. “Besides, you know I’m going to write to you every week. Now that I’m in the same castle as Malfoy, I can finally crack the great mystery of whether or not he bleaches his hair.” 
“There’s no way that’s natural, right? Maybe Lucius has a special shampoo or something.”
Mattheo grinned and draped an arm over your shoulder. “I don’t know, but I promise to find out for you.” 
“You’ll really write to me every week?” 
“Of course I will,” Mattheo declared, holding his pinky finger out. “You trust me, right?” 
You smiled and hooked your pinkies together. “I trust you, Matty.” 
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When the next year finally rolled around, you were so excited that you convinced your parents to take you to King’s Cross at least an hour before your departure. You hadn’t seen Mattheo since the previous summer because his family had been away on holiday in Spain, but he stayed true to his word and wrote to you every chance he got. You loved reading about the friends he’d made, the antics he got up to, and most importantly, the fascinating classes that awaited you at Hogwarts. 
As you passed through Platform 9 ¾, you were nearly knocked off your feet as Mattheo ran full force into you. He had grown much taller since you last saw him, so much so that he now towered over you as he pulled you into a bear hug. 
“Hi, Matty,” you giggled against his chest. 
“Hi, Y/N.” 
Mattheo pulled away, grinning as he tugged at your hand. “Come on, I want you to meet my friends.” 
You looked back at your parents who merely smiled at Mattheo’s excitement. To his chagrin, your best friend remembered to properly greet them and asked if you could board the train early. After much fussing, they eventually said their goodbyes and allowed you to go with Mattheo. 
The first friend that you met was Enzo. He was sweet, if not a little cheeky as he hinted that Mattheo couldn’t stop talking about you all year. Draco and Blaise needed no introduction given that your families were all fairly acquainted ever since you could remember. To your delight, Pansy was amongst the group as well. The two of you used to take ballet together, so it was a relief to have another girl to bond with. The older boys, Tom and Regulus, briefly greeted you before returning to their own cabin. 
Last, but not least, was Theodore. 
Whereas the others welcomed you with open arms, Nott was not as warm in his reception of you. The two of you clashed right off the bat. You weren’t quite sure what the root of your disagreement was. Perhaps it was his snarky comment insinuating that girls couldn’t be proper quidditch fans in reference to your Chudley Cannons scarf, perhaps it was your biting retort that he could stick his misogyny up his arse. Either way, the interaction set the tone for your strained relationship. 
Being sorted into Gryffindor only contributed to the animosity between you as well. Given the longstanding rivalry of Slytherins and Gryffindors, Theo was determined to view you as his enemy. The harder you fought, the harder Mattheo tried to repair the rift. You were the two most important people in his life and he couldn’t stand to see you two tear each other apart. 
For the most part, you tried to grin and bear it. While you couldn’t for the life of you understand how or why he was even friends with someone as unbearable as Theodore Nott, you tried to be civil for Mattheo’s sake. Tried being the key word. With Theo’s snark and your temper, the two of you became known for your infamous fights. Still, it didn’t stop your best friend from trying. 
Over the years, Mattheo concocted countless plots and schemes to get the two of you to bond. If his favorite band was playing in town, he would magically have two extra tickets to bring both you and Theo along. If there was a book release you were dying to attend, Mattheo would invite Theo along to check out the record store next door. If the castle was dead during the weekend, Mattheo would suggest a trio trip to Hogsmeade. 
As much as you cared for Mattheo, your patience only stretched so thin. Without fail, every outing that the three of you went on almost always ended in an argument between you and Theo. 
“I don’t know how you’re friends with both of us, Mattheo,” Theo joked as he gulped down his burger. “I’m fun and Y/N is —”
“Finish that sentence and I’ll stick my fork right through your hand, Nott,” you threatened with a sickly sweet smile. 
The hostility wasn’t anything new, but you supposed that after dealing with it for years and years on end, Mattheo had finally reached his breaking point. 
Your best friend pushed his plate away and sighed. “Let’s just go.” 
You nodded in agreement, gathering your things and following Mattheo’s lead. Theo trailed after, obnoxiously squeezing his way through the door of the Three Broomsticks and letting it close behind him. You yanked it open, nearly pulling the bloody thing off its hinges. 
“How very mature of you. Though I’m not surprised that you don’t know how to hold a door open for a lady.”
Theo looked back, craning his neck behind you. “As far as I’m concerned, there aren’t any ladies around. Just an infuriating little Gryffindor who can’t handle not having the last word.” 
“I’m infuriating?” You huffed, crossing your arms. “Clearly you’ve never suffered through the pleasure of your own company. Spoiler alert, the snarky arsehole bit stopped being funny in third year.” 
“Well, the uptight and bossy bitch bit wasn’t ever funny to begin with.” 
“Enough already,” Mattheo yelled. You reeled back in surprise. Usually, your best friend just let you and Theo fight it out until you both got tired of it, but he wasn’t having it tonight. “You two are the most important people in my life, but you’re acting like bloody toddlers. I’m tired of feeling like I have to choose a side, so either you two find a way to get along or risk losing me as a friend.” 
For the first time since you met him, you and Theo were both stunned into silence. Mattheo took one last look at his closest friends and marched off into the castle without a word. 
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The next day, you woke up feeling weary. You hardly slept last night given Mattheo’s ultimatum. Your best friend wasn’t the type to make declarations like that lightly, so you knew he meant it. Especially since he went straight to his dorm without coming over to watch a movie or talk late into the night like the two of you often did. 
The suspicion was all but confirmed when you sat through a particularly awkward and tense breakfast. Mattheo briefly acknowledged you with a nod, not bothering to speak as he cranked up the music on his headphones. As the Smiths crooned, you looked up at Theo who shook his head at your inquisitive glance. You knew that Mattheo had most likely given him the silent treatment last night as well. 
Despite the fact that you and Mattheo had very similar schedules, he managed to avoid you throughout the entire day. By the time the last class rolled around, you knew that he was serious about you and Theo making up. It was a hard pill to swallow. Truly, you’d rather ingest a pill the size of a hippogriff than make amends with Nott, but it wasn’t like you had a choice. You didn’t want to lose Mattheo. 
Deciding to be the bigger person, you went to the one place that you knew Theo frequented. You found him sitting alone in the Astronomy Tower, long legs dangling below him as he smoked a cigarette. Biting back a comment about the death trap pursed between his lips, you cleared your throat. 
“Mind if I sit?” 
Theo tensed as he looked up at you. He wore the sneer that he solely reserved for you, but his eyes were dull and dim. The argument with Mattheo obviously left him feeling lost as well. 
“Do I have a choice?” You glared in response, but took a deep breath to calm yourself. Theo winced. “Sorry. Force of habit. Sit, I guess.” 
Gingerly, you settled in the spot next to him. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” 
“He wouldn’t talk to me last night,” Theo confirmed as he ashed his cigarette. “Just put on his headphones and went to sleep facing the wall.” 
“He’s been avoiding me all day.” 
Theo sighed. “What are we going to do?” 
“Look,” you started, trying to muster up the strength to propose your next statement. “Obviously, we hate each other, but Mattheo’s important to me and I know he’s important to you, too. So for his sake, can’t we just put all this animosity behind us and try to get along?” 
“What exactly does getting along mean?” 
You shrugged. To be honest, you had no idea how to approach the situation, but you figured you had to start somewhere. “I don’t know. Maybe we can grab a bite to eat. Make polite small talk. Try not to strangle each other in the process.” 
“I guess I can do that,” Theo conceded. “Why don’t we go to the new pub in the village? I heard they have fried pickles.” 
You perked up. “You like pickles? I thought I was the only one.” 
“I don’t just like pickles. I love them,” Theo stated. 
“Me too,” you grinned. “Mattheo always gives me his cause he says —”
“They taste like feet,” he finished with a chuckle. 
You nodded, laughing along. “Well, what are we waiting for, then?” 
Theo watched as you stood, smoothing the front of your skirt. You offered a hand out to him, both literally and figuratively. To your surprise, Theo took the peace offering and let you pull him to his feet. 
An hour later, the two of you were squeezed into a tiny booth by the makeshift stage. The pub was lively tonight and nearly packed to the brim, thanks to the happy hour deal on their drinks and appetizers in honor of their grand opening. 
The pickles didn’t disappoint. You ate a good amount, but Theo scarfed the whole thing down like he hadn’t eaten in months. As he finished a sandwich and gulped the meal down with his second butterbeer, you gaped in surprise. 
“Honestly, where do you put it all?” 
Theo patted his stomach, which was unfairly flat and probably housed perfectly sculpted abs despite his eating habits. “I’m a growing boy. I need to eat a lot to offset the energy I expend. Especially when I’m sparring with you.” 
“Oddly enough, I’m flattered by that.” 
“You should be,” Theo quipped. “I’ve never had to put so much thought into insulting someone until I met you.” 
“I bet you were pissed when I took your crown as the sassiest and bitchiest person in our friend group.” 
“I’ve never experienced such heartbreak,” Theo said sarcastically as he placed a hand over his heart. “I mean, to be dethroned by someone who can’t even reach the top shelf in the cupboard was truly the most humbling moment of my life.” 
“Well, you shouldn’t have assumed that I knew nothing about quidditch just because I’m a girl.” 
“I was a dick for that,” Theo admitted. “But I was also twelve. I didn’t even know what misogyny meant. I thought you were describing a disease.” 
You snorted. “Well, the past is in the past. Even though I clearly won that argument, we should put it behind us.” 
Theo rolled his eyes, but clinked his butterbeer against yours. “Cheers to that, Y/N.” 
Surprisingly, you found that you and Theo had a lot more in common than you initially thought. When he wasn’t being a prick, he was actually quite nice to talk to. In a single conversation, you learned more about Theo than you had in years. The two of you possessed a knack for potions, preferred foreign literature, and shared a love for horror movies. 
As the live band went on, Theo mumbled an obscure reference to an eighties muggle band that your mum used to blast when you were younger. 
“I can’t believe they’re covering this song,” you shouted over the music. “I haven’t heard it in years.” 
Theo’s eyes widened in surprise. “You know this song?” 
“Of course I do,” you retorted. “Mattheo says I have the music taste of a divorced country club trophy wife.” 
“You and me both.” 
By the end of the night, you found plenty of common ground with the boy you once thought of as your enemy. It was quite alarming to realize that you hadn’t argued once all night and even more so when you found yourself actually enjoying Theo’s company. Maybe Mattheo was right after all. When you stopped viewing Theo as competition, he was actually not that bad. You now understood what Mattheo meant when he said that you and Theo were more alike than you cared to admit.
On the walk back to the castle, Theo pulled out a spliff but glanced at you before lighting it. “Do you mind if I smoke?” 
“Knock yourself out.” 
The moon was silver and bright against the cloudless sky as the two of you sauntered through the beaten path. You listened to Theo recount Tom’s disastrous attempts at asking Chloe out, all the while giggling to yourself because he was a bigger gossip than you and Pansy put together. 
“Don’t let Tom hear you talking about his love life,” you teased. “He’d probably feed you to his basilisk.” 
Theo grimaced. “Half of Hogwarts would weep at the loss of such a handsome face.” 
“However will we survive without your wit and charm, Nott?” 
He chuckled as he blew a ring of smoke up into the sky. You watched it float before holding your hand out. “Care to share?” 
“I didn’t know you smoked.” 
“Who do you think taught Mattheo how to roll his first blunt?” 
Theo stared in disbelief as you took the spliff, inhaling deeply. You held the smoke in your lungs effortlessly before blowing rings of smoke in quick succession. 
“Damn,” the brown haired boy exclaimed. “Who the hell are you, Y/N?”
You smirked as you tapped the joint. “Someone much cooler than you, Theo.” 
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After that night, you and Theo got on more and more. The banter and bickering was still there, but it was more playful now. Mattheo was glad to see his two best friends getting along so well. Since first year, it was all he had ever wanted. 
The days of forcing you two to hang out together was long gone. Now, you were practically as attached to the hip with Theo as you were with Mattheo. 
When Mattheo went up to the Astronomy Tower for a smoke break, he would find you sitting cross-legged across from Theo as he filled you in on the catfight between Lavender and Cho. When Mattheo visited you at the library during his free period, Theo was already there working on his History of Magic homework beside you. When Mattheo arrived at the Great Hall for assembly, he slid into the seat next to Theo as his friend craned his neck to peer at the crowd. 
“Looking for someone, mate?” 
“Yeah, Y/N said she was running late,” Theo answered distractedly. “I saved a seat for her.” 
At first, Mattheo loved the fact that you put your differences behind you and became such great friends like he always knew you would, but as time went along, your best friend noticed that you and Theo were becoming a little too close. 
On one occasion, Mattheo briefly excused himself from the common room party for a smoke only to come back to find you and Theo annihilating Draco and Blaise at butterbeer pong. He walked in right as you made the winning shot, witnessing Theo picking you up and twirling you around as Malfoy stomped off, grumbling something about an unfair play. A cheat of sorts. 
Mattheo couldn’t help but agree. Seeing you in Theo’s arms felt like cheating. The whole thing made him feel strange. It didn’t help that every time the three of you hung out, Mattheo noticed that you and Theo now had little inside jokes and references that he didn’t understand. Being jealous of his best mate was ridiculous, but yet he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that only grew stronger with each passing day. 
As you grew closer, Mattheo felt stranger. One morning, he nearly smashed his muffin to pieces when he saw you wearing Theo’s hoodie. 
“Why are you wearing that?” he asked through clenched teeth. 
You looked down in surprise as though you’d forgotten that you were wearing another man’s clothes. “Oh, I was cold so Theo let me borrow his hoodie.”
Mattheo frowned before pulling his sweater over his head. “Here, wear mine instead. It’s warmer.” 
The gesture was confusing, but you merely shrugged and exchanged Theo’s hoodie for Mattheo’s sweater. “Thanks, Matty.” 
Later that week, Mattheo found you in the stands in your usual spot before the game. He smiled when he saw his number painted on your right cheek. The brief moment of happiness was shattered when you turned and revealed that you had also painted Theo’s number on your left cheek. Mattheo nearly fell off of his broom. He was used to seeing his and only his number on you. First the hoodie, now this? 
The green monster reared its ugly head during the game itself, motivating him to play as brutally as possible. The Hufflepuffs weren’t safe from his rage and neither were his teammates. As he soared around the goalpost, he hurled the quaffle as hard as he could, fully knowing that Theo was within the ball’s radius. Thankfully for him, Theo ducked at the last second before shooting a baffled glance at his friend. Mattheo simply ignored it and kept playing. 
Despite their sweeping win, the bad mood failed to lift. Mattheo frowned as he slipped into the booth next to you, glaring at Theo’s head as the two of them sandwiched you on both sides. Across the table, the rest of the team sipped their celebratory milkshakes. 
The waitress set down a vanilla, strawberry, and chocolate milkshake in front of the three of you. Mattheo watched as you and Theo tasted your drinks before promptly taking out the straw and switching flavors. 
“Told you that you’d like strawberry more,” Theo said with a fond eye roll. 
“But vanilla sounded good.” 
“Everything sounds good at the moment, but you always go back to your favorite.” 
Mattheo clenched his jaw as you stuck your tongue out at Theo before turning towards him. “Aren’t you going to drink your milkshake, Matty?” 
“I don’t really have much of an appetite.” 
“Maybe it’s just the chocolate. Do you wanna try mine?” 
He shook his head, crossing his arms. “No, that’s Theo’s milkshake.” 
“Oh, well if you want the vanilla one instead, I can switch back.” 
Mattheo wrinkled his nose. “No thanks, Theo’s mouth has already been on it.” 
“Consider it a privilege,” Theo butted in. “Most girls and boys at this school would kill to swap spit with me.” 
“I’ll pass.” 
You cocked your head at your best friend, looking concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay, Matty?” 
He nodded rather unconvincingly. “I’m fine.”
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As weeks passed, Mattheo only grew more jealous. 
Granted, he was fully aware that he had no right to feel this way given the fact that he had practically pushed you and Theo together, but he just couldn’t help himself. The closer you grew, the more he regretted giving the two of you an ultimatum in the first place. 
Before you became friends with Theo, Mattheo never had to share you with anyone. He realized now how much he had taken it for granted. Your best friend missed the times that the two of you spent alone. He missed having you all to himself. Mattheo was determined to get it back one way or another. 
When Saturday night rolled around, Mattheo made his way up to Gryffindor Tower, glaring at anyone who balked at the sight of him on this side of the castle. After shoving McLaggen out of the way, Mattheo made his way up to the highest turret and let himself into your dorm. 
You were perched in front of the vanity table, swiping your signature cherry lip gloss on in the mirror. Mattheo made himself at home, sprawling out on your bed. He knew you had plans tonight, but he was hoping to convince you to hang out with him instead. Mattheo eyed your dress, his gaze sweeping along the red fabric like a lover’s embrace. You flushed at the intensity of his stare as his brown eyes flickered back up to your face. 
“Why can’t you hang out tonight?” Mattheo asked with a pout. “Are you going on a date? Is that why you’re leaving your best friend alone to perish?” 
You shook your head in amusement before leaning over and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t be so dramatic, Matty. I’m not going on a date. Theo and I are just checking out this new band.” 
Mattheo stiffened as you sprayed perfume on your wrists. “Why didn’t you invite me?” 
“Theo did. He said you weren’t interested in listening to country club wife music.” 
While that may be true, Mattheo would’ve gone if he knew you were coming too. “He didn’t tell me he was going with you.” 
“Probably because he knew you’d feel obligated to go,” you responded. “But it’s alright, we won’t make you suffer through it. Theo will keep the creeps away.” 
Mattheo did not like the sound of that. It was his job to watch over you, not Theo’s. Besides, he never thought of it as an obligation. Even if he wasn’t a fan of the music, he loved watching you jump around and have the time of your life. Spending time with you was the only reason why he insisted on coming to every concert. Keeping the creeps away was just an added bonus. 
Now, Theo was taking away both. The realization put him in a foul mood, but he couldn’t let it show. He wanted you to have a good time, even if it wasn’t with him. 
“Okay, but can we at least watch a movie and cuddle when you get back?” 
“We’re going to be out pretty late. I don’t want you to lose sleep because of me. I know you have a Charms exam tomorrow morning, but I promise we can have a movie night tomorrow.” 
Mattheo only nodded as you patted his curls and kissed his cheek again. He watched as you left your dorm, frowning into the mirror as he touched the two cherry gloss marks on his face. 
The kiss prints were already fading, serving as some sort of sick metaphor. 
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To your credit, you did make good on your promise on movie night. It had been a while since the two of you hung out alone, which is definitely the only reason why Mattheo felt needier and clingier than usual. While his touchiness wasn’t anything new, he seemed determined to make it obvious to those around you. Especially with Theo. 
During breakfast, Mattheo silently laid his head on your shoulder and placed your hand atop his curls. Across the table, Theo continued gnawing away at his croissant while you told him about the new horror movie that had apparently been banned in twenty countries. 
“I wanna watch it,” Mattheo mumbled as you scratched his head. 
“But you hate horror,” Theo responded. 
“So? I still want to see it.” 
“I’ll ask my mum if she can send me a copy this weekend,” you said as you playfully tugged at his curls. “We can watch it in your dorm, okay?” 
He leaned in, nuzzling against your neck. “Just the two of us?”
“Of course, Matty.” 
Mattheo brightened at that, happy with your response. Perhaps it was petty of him, but he didn’t care. He wanted to send a message. You and Theo could be friends, but he’d always be the most important person in your life. Mattheo was your person, just like you were his. 
The others were beginning to pick up on things, despite his constant denial. It was sort of a moot point anyways, given the fact that he was single handedly proving them right with his actions. Nowadays, your friends would find Mattheo lounging on your lap, wedging himself in the small space on the common room couch just so that he was next to you instead of Theo. 
Every time you went out to Hogsmeade, he’d make a point of holding your hand and carrying your bags. Mattheo would stop mid-conversation and rub your cold hands in his, blowing on your fingers because he knows how cold you get even in the heated pub. 
“Your hands are cold. Let me heat them up, princess.” 
As you blushed, Enzo would shoot Mattheo a knowing look, which he deflected by focusing all his attention on you. Even Tom made a passing comment at all the sickening nicknames Mattheo had taken to calling you lately. 
“Hi, sweetheart. Is this seat taken?” 
“Morning, love. Do you want to go for a walk with me?” 
“Here, give me your bag. I’ll carry it for you, darling.” 
Though his older brother might disagree with his methods, Mattheo was quite convinced that it was working. Until it wasn’t. 
During the last week of December, you and Theo began acting strangely. Every time he walked into a room, the two of you would fall uncharacteristically silent. When he tried to bring it up, you evaded his questions and changed the subject instead. The secrecy didn’t sit well with him. 
After the last class of the day, Mattheo usually walked with you to the library, but every time he tried to find you that week, you had all but disappeared.
“Berkshire, have you seen Y/N?” 
“Oh yeah, she left with Theo a few minutes ago. Seemed urgent.” 
“Did they say where they were going?” 
Enzo shrugged nonchalantly. “No clue, mate.” 
Frustrated, Mattheo walked away before succumbing to the urge to throttle his friend. It wasn’t Enzo’s fault that you and Theo were acting so weird. Throughout the week, Theo would be out of their dorm for hours and hours. Sometimes he wouldn’t even come back until the wee hours of the night. 
When Mattheo checked your dorm, you were also nowhere to be found. He was trying his best not to spiral, but the nagging suspicion that the two of you were hiding something from him was too big to ignore. It was all but confirmed when he caught you sneaking out of the dungeons one night. 
You poked your head out from behind a marble column, watching students pass. Clearly, you didn’t want anyone to know that you were down here. Unfortunately for you, Mattheo had already seen you. 
“What are you doing here, Y/N?” 
His voice startled you, making you jump a step back as you glanced up at him with a nervous expression. “Oh! Hi, Matty. I was just — I was just, um, walking back to my dorm.” 
“I can see that, but what were you doing in the dungeons?’ 
“Just…hanging out…”
Mattheo could feel his blood boiling. “With Theo?” 
You gulped, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, he had my book.” 
“So where is it?” 
“Where’s what?” 
“Your book.” 
“Oh,” you said softly, avoiding his gaze. It was a tell-tale sign that you weren’t being honest. You always looked away when you were lying. “I guess I forgot.” 
“You forgot the thing that you came down here for?” 
“Hm? Did you hear that?” You mumbled, despite the fact that the corridor was silent. “I think Pansy’s calling me. I gotta go, Matty. See you later!” 
Your best friend watched as you sauntered off to Salazar knows where with a frown. Confused, Mattheo walked back to his dorm and found the answer to his dreaded question. As soon as he opened the door, the familiar scent of strawberry and vanilla filled the air. Mattheo felt downright murderous. That was your perfume. He’d recognize it anywhere. 
Mattheo glared at his best friend, who was laying in bed with a book perched on his chest. He eyed the rumpled sheets and Theo’s disheveled hair while trying not to assume the worst. 
“Is that the book Y/N lent you?” 
“Huh? What book?” 
Though he wanted very much to punch his mate’s teeth in, Mattheo restrained himself. “The book she came down here to get.” 
“She wasn’t here for —” Theo closed his mouth before nodding reluctantly. “Oh, right. Yeah. This is Y/N’s book. I should — I should return it.” 
“You’re acting weird, Nott. Both of you are.” Mattheo narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “What the bloody hell is going on?” 
“Blase? Yeah, be right there, mate! I’d love to stay and chat, but duty calls. See you later, man.” 
Theo hightailed it out of the dorm, responding to an imaginary summon. Y/N and Theo. Theo and Y/N. His two closest friends. Sneaking around. Lying to him. Fooling around in his dorm. Mattheo didn’t know how to feel. He was angry, he was sad, but most of all, he was hurt. His girl and his best friend? It was the ultimate betrayal. 
Never mind that Mattheo had spent the past decade denying his feelings for you. Anyone with an ounce of common sense could see that he’d been in love with you since you were children. It was clear as fucking day. 
When Friday rolled around, Mattheo decided that enough was enough. He was going to confront the two of you. After quidditch practice, he followed Theo through the castle. The git buggered off to some dark, secluded area of the school that Mattheo had never stepped foot in. He kept a safe distance, peering around the corner when he heard whispered voices. 
“I’m telling you, he’s getting suspicious,” Theo whispered frantically. “He asked why our dorm smelled like you. I didn’t know what to say, so I bolted!” 
His heart dropped when he heard you sigh in frustration. “For Merlin’s sake, Theo! You couldn’t make up an excuse?” 
“Me? You were the one who got caught sneaking out of the dungeons. It’s not like you’re an expert on stealth, either.” 
“You know I can’t lie to him,” you exclaimed. “I’ve never been able to, ever since we were little. He knows all my tells. But, Theo, he absolutely cannot find out about this!” 
Mattheo didn’t need to hear the rest. His heart had already been crushed into a thousand pieces. He couldn't believe it. The two of you were supposed to be his best friends, yet here you were keeping this terrible secret from him. 
For the rest of the night, he sulked in his room. He was in the middle of brooding while listening to the Smiths when he heard a knock. 
“Piss off!” 
“It’s me.” 
Part of him wanted to send you away, but a bigger part — the stupid, idiotic, part of him couldn’t. With a sigh, Mattheo peeled himself off the carpet and opened the door. Since the secret rendezvous with Theo, you had apparently found time to get dolled up and changed into a pretty party dress. 
Mattheo frowned and crossed his arms. “Theo’s not here.” 
You frowned, cocking your head in confusion. “I’m not here for Theo.” 
He scoffed in response. “You don’t have to lie to me anymore. I know.” 
“You know what, Matty?” 
“I know that you and Theo are…sneaking around. Lying to me. Hooking up behind my back.” 
“What on Godric’s green earth are you talking about?” 
“Don’t try to deny it. I heard you in the corridor upstairs. I’ve had my suspicions all week. The two of you have been acting weird and avoiding me. More than that, you have your own stupid little inside jokes and you take him to concerts and you share milkshakes! Those are things we used to do together, but now you’ve gone and replaced me.” 
“The only reason Theo and I became friends is because you asked us to., Mattheo.” 
“I know that!” Mattheo exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. “I regret it so much. I wanted you to get along, but not like this. Now Theo’s making you laugh and walking you to class and doing god knows what else with you in our dorm!” 
Your features softened as you tried to reach for Mattheo, but he took a step back. “Don’t try to deny it! I know you were in here the night I caught you sneaking out of the dungeons. I could smell your perfume.” 
Realization flooded you all at once. “Are you…are you jealous, Matty?” 
Your best friend crossed his arms and huffed. “Of course I’m jealous! I don’t want you doing any of those things with Theo. You’re my best friend. Mine, not his. I had you first. I loved you first.” 
The confession stunned you into silence. You blinked, processing the information before holding your hand out. “Come.” 
Mattheo looked like he was about to argue, but you just stared at him with determination. “Just come with me, Matty. I promise it’ll all make sense in a minute.” 
The logical side of him wanted to refuse, but he knew it would be futile. Mattheo would’ve ripped his heart out of his chest if you asked him to. You were his weak spot. 
Following you out into the corridor, Mattheo staggered a few steps back as you slipped into the dark and empty common room. With a snap of your fingers, the lights came on and voices echoed in unison. 
“Happy birthday, Mattheo!” 
Startled, Mattheo blinked at the sight before him. The common room was decorated with streamers and confetti, complete with a bright birthday banner that covered nearly half the room. There were tables filled with food and drinks, all of which were his favorites. All of his friends were present, including Tom, who stood to the side with his arms crossed. The pretty blonde beside him — Chloe, the girl Theo swore his brother was in love with — elbowed Tom, who sighed and flashed Mattheo a rare smile. Now that was something he needed to revisit at a later time.
For now, one shocking revelation was enough to deal with.
“Surprise!” You exclaimed beside him as you pulled him into a hug. 
At first, he was too stunned to return the gesture, but eventually he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a bear hug. With everything going on, Mattheo nearly forgot his own birthday, but he knew that you wouldn't. You did all of this. For him. 
When you broke apart, Theo clapped him on the back. “Happy birthday, mate.” Relief washed over his friend’s face as he spoke the words. “Thank fucking Salazar that Y/N pulled this off. Hiding this from you for a week has been absolute hell.”
“So…this is what you two have been up to?” 
You nodded in confirmation. “Mhm, Theo and I spent all week planning it. We wanted everything to be perfect.” 
“But it was hard because you were being such a nosy little git,” said Theo.  
The pieces started to click together. All that secrecy between his two best friends hadn’t meant what he thought it did. “So you two aren’t…you haven’t…you’re not hooking up behind my back?”
You and Theo stared at each other in horror. 
“Ew!” Theo dramatically exclaimed. “Y/N is like my sister. You don’t hook up with your sister. That’s gross.” 
“But I thought…you were hanging out together so much and you had all these jokes and it seemed like…”
“Please,” Theo scoffed. “Anyone with half a brain cell can see that you two are clearly in love with each other.” 
“Surprised you figured it out then, Theo,” you quipped.
The brunette rolled his eyes at you before breaking out into a shit-eating grin. "Wait. Is that why you've been acting like such a twat lately? You thought I was making a move on your girl?" Theo's eyes widened as Mattheo shifted uncomfortably. "I'm right, aren't I? First of all, I'm flattered that you felt threatened by me."
"Threatened is a strong word," Mattheo countered.
"Please, you nearly took my head off with a quaffle." Theo wiggled his eyebrows. "Second of all, I'm quite frankly offended that you'd think I'd ever go for Y/N. I would never break your trust like that."
"I know, I know." Mattheo said with a sigh. "I was being stupid, but for a second I was truly convinced that something was going on between you two. I mean, you've been hanging out so much lately..."
“Matty, do you even know what we talk about when we hang out? You. It’s always about you. You were right that we both have a lot in common. We were just too stubborn to see it, but the main thing that brought us together is that we care about you so much.” 
“Well, Y/N cares for you a lot more,” Theo teased with a smirk. “She’d like to care for you all night long.”
You flushed as deep and red as your party dress. “Oh my gods. Shut up, Theo!” 
“My work here is done. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m about to hit on that Ravenclaw who looks like she wants absolutely nothing to do with me.” 
“Sorry about him,” you said as you turned back to Mattheo. “And sorry that we’ve been acting so shady all week. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t suspect anything.”
Mattheo chuckled. “Well, consider me surprised.” 
You wrinkled your nose in disgust. “I can’t believe you thought I was hooking up with Theo.” 
With a boyish grin, Mattheo pulled you to his side and kissed your temple. “I’m sorry, princess. Jealousy just got the best of me.” 
“There’s no need to be jealous. If it wasn’t already obvious, I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.” 
“I’m a bloody idiot.” 
“Yeah, but you’re my idiot.” 
Mattheo beamed and kissed the tip of your nose. “Thank you for doing all of this for me.” 
You smiled softly, cheeks heating as he stared at you with bright, brown eyes. “Course, Matty, I just want you to have the best birthday.” 
With a smile, Mattheo leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against your lips. There was something familiar about the gesture, like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place. Kissing Mattheo was as natural as breathing. It felt like coming home. 
“Wish granted, princess.” 
Later that night when he blew out his candles, Mattheo didn’t bother wishing for anything. You leaned into him as he hooked his pinkie through yours, making a silent promise. Even if it took a little jealousy for him to realize it, Mattheo embraced the truth wholeheartedly. You were his person and he was yours. As the flames died out, he smiled.
Mattheo Riddle had no use for wishes now that he had you. 
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ohisms · 4 months
Text
↪     𝑺𝑬𝑻𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 , HISTORICAL 〳 FANTASY edition !   (  a  collection  of  25  settings  based upon the period 〳 fantasy genres ; meant  to  inspire  drabbles  or  be  used  as  prompts . WILL be updated .   )
001. the interior of an elegant carriage .
002. seated at a large dining table set with an elaborate meal .
003. the shadowy corner of a lively tavern .
004. the top of a light house during a raging storm .
005. along the dimly lit corridor of a large manor .
006. the damp , dark brig of a pirate ship .
007. the ruins of an ancient structure lost to time .
008. a theater hall brimming with attendees .
009. the bustling streets of a market town .
010. a sun - drenched vineyard .
011. along a boardwalk overlooking the sea .
012. a moonlit cemetery full of weathered graves .
013. on horseback , deep in the woods .
014. a luxurious drawing room smelling of tea .
015. a sprawling dragon roost , hidden atop craggy mountain peaks .
016. a war - torn battlefield .
017. a beautiful cathedral bustling with churchgoers .
018. within a crammed opera box during a performance .
019. an elegant tearoom serving afternoon refreshments .
020. a lakeside pavilion on an especially hot day .
021. a sprawling network of underground catacombs .
022. a hidden glade in the middle of the woods .
023. the deep , dark dungeon of a castle .
024. a market square full of fruit and fineries .
025. a baker's shop smelling of wonderful pastries .
026. the quiet stables of a large estate .
027. on the outskirts of a magnificent water fountain .
028. in a dimly lit library , hidden amongst the books .
029. among the high walls of a hedge maze .
030. at the front desk of a warm , homey inn .
031. under the protection of a gazebo as it rains .
032. on the landing of a busy train station .
033. a gambling hall alight with raucous laughter and drink .
034. a pristine infirmary , mostly empty .
035. on board a huge ship making a long voyage .
+   20  more  setting  prompts :    6 / 01 / 2024
036. in a sunlit garden adorned with blooming flowers .
037. at the edge of a serene forest lake under a starry sky.
038. within a quiet corridor of a castle during a lavish ball .
039. in a bustling blacksmith's forge , sparks flying .
040. on a rocky cliffside overlooking a vast ocean .
041. in a quaint village square during a festival .
042. within a secret chamber hidden behind a bookshelf .
043. in the grand atrium of a luxurious hotel .
044. along a narrow brick alleyway in a crowded town .
045. within a busy marketplace in a desert town .
046. on a tranquil beach at sunrise .
047. in a cozy cottage with a crackling fireplace .
048. at the helm of a majestic airship soaring through the clouds .
049. in a grand library filled with ancient tomes .
050. on a bustling harbor dock as ships come and go .
051. within a magical forest where the trees glow softly .
052. in an apothecary's shop filled with herbs and potion .
053. at a secluded cabin by a dangerously quick river .
054. within the opulent throne room of a powerful ruler .
055. in an enchanted glade where fairies dance in the moonlight .
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liannelara-dracula · 4 months
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Sakamaki Mansion in Real Life (HCS)
Front Entrance
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A completely isolated and hidden Manor
Archers of land
The forest surrounds it.
Miles away from town.
This home is very old, in a drama cd I believe Reiji stated that something (I think it was a couch) a piece of furniture was gifted to them in the 1800s? I believe that was the year. Overall if the item was giften then that would mean that the house is older or just as old. ( I don't remember all the details I could be wrong but I know the house is over 100 years old.)
Rose Garden + Courtyard
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An endless rose garden built into a maze
Statues of beautiful feminine figures, who not surprisingly were once brides as well.
Another hobby of Kanatos when using magic
Have a cemetery of their own, some bodies were buried but they have no headstones.
They also have a Mausoleum in the show if no one noticed. It's where Shu was reading a book in S1.
Interior
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a grand staircase
it has a lot of stairs and many rooms such as a music room, library, game room, etc.
empty but grand long halls.
very easy to get lost
There rooms are all spread out from each other.
Underground
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If you've played the games or read the game translations you obviously know about the dungeon and torture rooms which exhisted.
In the anime you can also see that there are hidden tunnels in the manor as well.
Some with water running through them
This is where some dirty work has been done in the past.
I'm also not surprised if brides are brought here as punishment.
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˗ˏˋ 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 ˎˊ˗ ©𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟔~Present
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jasmines-library · 10 months
Note
Could you maybe write a platonic Damian x sibling reader (younger but not hy like a lot). And they had a nightmare and go to Damian in the middle of the night. And they're scared that he's gonna get mad that they woke him up, but they didn't know who else to go to
No pressure, of course!! I hope you have a wonderful day/night/afternoon or whatev!!! 🫶🫶🫶
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Hold Me Like A Grudge
Summary: Ever since you joined your father at his home, Damian Wayne had despised you. He tries to spend his time as far away from you as possible, until one night you seek comfort in him after a nightmare and everything changes. (gn reader :))
Note: Thanks for requesting lovely! this was so cute to write and a much needed break from the angst for you all (kinda...)
Warnings: Being ignored by Dami, nightmares, none really it's a fluffy fic!
Word count: 1.4k
⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤
Damian had never been one for comforting tendencies. He often chose to seclude himself away in a corner, brooding in his own self pity or grumbling about his early-teenage misery. Apparently it had gotten worse since you arrived; having another sibling to pester him didn’t sit well on his behalf, so each time the sound of your small feet pattered into the room, he would turn his gaze away or collect his belongings that he had strewn across the room and left. You weren’t entirely sure what you had done to receive the silent treatment from Damian. Dick, the eldest of the bunch, had tried to reassure you that it was nothing personal. That he had acted that way towards him when he first arrived sending his cold glares from across the room or barging past him in the hallways, but something about the way his face contorted and his lip twitched revealed something else. 
Damian Wayne was jealous. Despite the fact he would rather die than admit it, he couldn’t stand having someone else in his way. You were his biological half sister. The only other person related to the one and only Bruce Wayne. And he hated you for it. He hated Bruce for it. He hated himself for hating it, but that didn’t stop his grudge from lingering. It didn’t help that your charm meant you got along with the rest of the boys better than he did; you had shown them kindness where he had shown them coldness. 
When Bruce told him that he was responsible for you whilst the others were out on patrol he did very little to hide his disdain; rolling his eyes and stomping off to his room but not before snarling at you as he pushed past. 
The manor was eerily quiet that night. It was dark and without the obnoxiously loud antics of your older brothers the place felt empty. Damian was off sulking somewhere and Alfred was monitoring the computers so you were left alone to navigate the endless rooms and high ceilings. You hadn’t been at the manor long so you were still a bit unsteady when it came to navigating the maze of walls but without anyone to help you when you turned a wrong corner, it took you much longer than it should have to find your room. There were a few lights on in the halls, but all of the rooms were dark and vast and the condensation building up on the cold glass didn’t help your feeling of unease. A shiver crawled down your back and you tugged the hem of your hoodie over your hands. You breathed a heavy sigh of relief when you pushed open the door and collapsed onto your bed, burying yourself under the sheets and squeezing your eyes tightly.
Sleep didn’t come easy, much to your dismay. There were too many odd sounds drifting through the house; something clicking, the wind whipping around outside, tree branches tapping on the glass, a dripping tap in your bathroom that stopped for a few blissful minutes before starting up again with a monotonous tempo. Tucking your knees and head to your chest you tried to bury yourself deeper into the bed and drown out the sounds that to someone who had lived there a while wouldn’t even bat an eye at. 
When your tired body finally dragged sleep into it’s clutches it was restless. You tossed and turned with a furrowed brow. The images were dark and disturbing; twisted figures of your new family being captured, of strange figure looming over you in the dark reaching out a cold, bony hand that could have easily been mistaken for a claw until it was only inches away from, reaching and reaching until the icy digits brushed the surface of your skin.
You shot up, kicking off the sheets and clutching your skin where the hand had touched you; you could have sworn you could still feel it there so cold that it felt as though it were going to burn a hole into your delicate skin. Tears rolled fat and ugly down your cheek and your forced yourself out of bed with trembling legs. Your feet carried you down the hall and before you knew it had planted you outside of Damian’s room. Like the others it was dark and silent, but you knew it was his. You had walked past it too many times, itching to just catch a chance of talking to him. Despite your state, your hand hovered above the frame unable to bring yourself to knock. What if he yelled at you or turned you away like he usually does? You supposed you could go and find Alfred instead- no. He was busy. The idea was gone from your head almost as soon as it had appeared and with a shaky sob you rapped your knuckles against his door. 
“What do you want-”
He opened the door much quicker than you thought he would. His jostled hair and cantankerous stare loomed over you, but he changed very unexpectedly when he noticed your sobbing and dewy eyes. Without thinking twice you wrapped your arms around him bawling into his chest. His body relaxed slightly as he frowned sympathetically, wrapping an arm around you and bringing you closer to him. It was odd even to him that there was something special about the moment. Damian wrapped you and led you over to his messy bed, settling you on the edge. The dampness that has seeped into the middle of his shirt didn’t bother him as he crouched down on his toes in front of you. 
“What’s wrong?” He asked, uncharacteristically tenderly. 
“I…i-” You stuttered trying to force the story out but only failing which just ended up causing a fresh bout of tears to fall. 
The boy cupped your hands in his, getting your attention. Tilting your head up, you saw his softened gaze. 
“Calm down, kiddo. You’re okay.” He gave you a gentle nod of reassurance. 
It took a few moments but soon your blubbering slowed into something of a calm, only interrupted by the occasional hiccup that pushed it way past your lips. 
“That’s it kid.” He rubbed your back “You’re okay.”
“I’m so-rry.” You hiccupped. “Please don’t be mad at me.”
This made Damian pause as a feeling of being humbled washed over him. 
“Tt. Why would I be mad?”
“Because I woke you up.” You pushed yourself up to stand, wiping away tears and making your way to the door. “I’m sorry. I’m being stupid.”
“Oh..y/n…”
Everything seemed to hit Damian all at once. He had been so caught up in his own jealousy that he had completely refused to think about how you felt and it occurred to him that you had so much more in common. You were a scared kid who had just been thrown amongst the most complicated family in Gotham. You were in need of love and guidance and he had failed to do that. The dark haired boy began to feel very guilty. It was his responsibility as your older brother to show you the ropes and he had point blank refused. 
He pushed himself up and settled down on the bed gesturing for you to follow. For a moment he thought that he had completely ruined everything; that you were going to leave and just suffer in silence albeit you walked over to the bed and perched on the end enjoying the way that the memory foam sank down slowly around you.
“I’m so sorry that I haven’t been there for you. It was selfish of me, I understand now that-”
“It’s okay.” You cut him off with a smile.
He nodded contently and pulled you into a hug. 
After a while you meekly broke the silence. “Dami?”
“Mmh?”
“Can I stay here tonight? Please?”
Damian grinned down as his little sibling proudly for the first time since you had arrived. He then shuffled across the bed and opened up the duvet for you to clamber in next to him. He slung an arm over you protectively. 
“You can stay whenever you need, Little Bat.” 
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allfearstofallto · 6 months
Text
How easy it would be to escape them
Yandere! Genshin Men x Fem! Reader
Ft: Diluc, Childe, Scaramouche
TW: Yandere Themes, Stalking, Mentions of Punishment
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Diluc - Difficulty Level: Very Easy
Do you think he doesn't regret what he's done? That he doesn't stay up all night, fighting internally with what he thinks he should do with you? Taking you was a spur of the moment thing, something that happened without a lot of thought put behind it. He just knew he needed you close. He needed you to be near. He needed you with him.
Because of this you're already able to push him around a fair bit. He gives you almost everything you want except for freedom, pure red eyes practically begging for your forgiveness.
He won't let you go if you just ask, he's not that lenient after all, but if he were to wake up one morning and you were not there, he'd go through so many emotions at one time. The manor would be searched from top to bottom, every nook and cranny searched for you. When you're not found a part of him feels calm, it feels satisfied. He stole you without your permission, so he's happy that you're finally free like you wanted. But there's also a tragic, gripping pain in his chest. You're gone, and he knows that he has no right to ask for you back. If you manage to leave Diluc, you'll probably never see him again.
Childe - Difficulty Level: Medium
His playfulness is simultaneously a ploy and his actual personality, such is the nature of him. He's so easy going most days, so funny and kind that part of you forgets that he's forced you into this. Until he has one of those bad days and you see the true strength and fury of a harbinger.
Even before you were stolen by Childe, you found him rather strange. Maybe it was the lack of light in his eyes, or how he casually talked about fighting and killing like it was nothing. Those should've been red flags, signals to stop talking to him, but his charm was laid on thick and suddenly you were stuck in his home in Snezhnaya.
Do you think you escaped because of your wit or because he let you? You'd never truly know the answer, but you thought it strange that you were able to leave his house without a single maid alerting him, without a single guard chasing you.
That sigh of relief you breathe when you're finally home may be the last one you get. Suddenly you feel so afraid constantly. You chalk it up to paranoia, but you can't stop looking over your shoulder. And then you start seeing traces of him. Fatui foot soldiers and letters with that familiar wax seal on them.
When you eventually see him, smiling at you casually like nothing is wrong, your heart practically shatters. You find yourself asking again, did you truly get away or did he let you? He always mentioned loving the chase.
Scaramouche - Difficulty Level: Very Hard
Good luck getting him to even trust you enough to let you roam the gardens without him. His home is a maze of eyes and watchful gazes, the only person you can rely on is yourself. There isn't really much you can do to get away from him, the house is guarded like a prison and Scaramouche himself is a tough man to get along with.
He loves you, he knows he does, that's what that painful feeling in his chest is, but he can't bring himself to even give you a taste of freedom. Give them an inch and they'll take a mile. Because of that you often spend time sitting next to windows, longingly looking outside at the world you're convinced you'll never see again. Not without him breathing over your shoulder.
Let yourself get away if you dare, you'd better hope your plan is air tight. Scaramouche won't fall for the same tricks twice. Fool him once, shame on him, but fool him twice and you'll learn how truly kind he was being to you before. Hope and pray to whichever Archon you worship that when you get away, he won't find you. But getting away is just the beginning. Staying out of his reach is the hardest. His home isn't the only place where he has eyes everywhere.
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sinner-as-saint · 6 months
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meaner than my demons
Dark!Bucky x Avenger!Reader au 
Run-through: You wake up in a manor in the middle of nowhere with no recollection of how you got there. All you remember is that you and Bucky were out on a mission, and then nothing. Bucky…? This wasn’t his doing, was it? What you didn’t know was that Bucky, of all people, had all the reasons to become the bad guy. To avenge himself, what was done to him, and all that was mercilessly taken from him. Nobody knew just how close he’d gotten to just giving into the twisted temptations that beckoned him over. All he needed was a slight nudge, a purpose – and you gave him that unknowingly. So he went, and he dragged you over to the darkness with him. 
Themes: angst, dark!bucky, kidnapping, sort of beauty and the beast vibes, mentions of bucky’s traumatic past as the winter soldier, smut, fluff, praise kink, HEA but slightly ambiguous ending ;) 
a/n: the angst is strong with this one. Also, I was merely experimenting with this character so take nothing too seriously <3 ily (p.s: this is long, grab a snack)
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There’s a minotaur in the middle of the maze. 
That sentence echoed in your head as you slowly blinked your eyes open. Your vision was blurry, your head spun even as you laid down looking up at the shiny, intricate chandelier above the canopy bed you were currently in. 
You focused on the bizarrely alluring chandelier, blinking as you tried to bring your vision back to normal, trying to get your head to stop spinning. 
It felt like you were waking up after a night of heavy drinking. Slowly, as if not trusting your body, you sat up on the comfy bed. 
There’s a minotaur in the middle of the maze. 
There was that damn sentence again. What the fuck is even that? Where did it come from? You squinted as you looked around, feeling a throbbing headache forming. Nevermind the strange sentence, where were you was the real question here. How did you end up in this bed? 
Panicking you quickly assessed your body. You were still in your mission gear, except none of your guns were in their holsters. Other than that, everything felt fine. You weren’t hurt anywhere, except for a pain at the back of your neck. You moved your head, trying to figure out what the cause of the pain was, but other than some sore muscles, nothing hurt. 
You carefully sat on the edge of the bed, planting your boots on the ground and looking around. Judging by the light coming in through the ridiculously large georgian windows, it looked like it was well into the evening. And the room was… beautiful in a gothic, dark way. 
Apart from the fireplace within which was lit a small fire, and the golden scones on the walls and the chandelier above the bed, everything else was dark. The walls were dark green, the large canopy bed was all-black with dark grey bedding, the high ceiling was covered in detailed moulding. Dark, wooden coffee table and bookshelves, black leather upholstered sofas, a huge chest drawer in the corner. 
If you were kidnapped, you thought, you’d likely be in some dark room with no windows – like a dungeon. Not in a properly furnished, clean bedroom. 
You frowned as you tried to go back, trying to figure out how you got here. You got up from the bed and approached the windows, looking out. For a moment you were mesmerised by the view outside. From this window, you could see the sprawling wings of the house on either side of you. A manor, then, not a house. 
Situated at the foot of hills which rose behind the manor, partially shrouded in dense fog. Some countryside, then? You tucked that information away as you scanned the area even more. The manor it seemed was surrounded by thick woods. The hills, the fog, the dark green woods, it all seemed like it was a scene out of a mysterious, dangerous novel. The silence, the secrecy… 
You looked further around and noticed a walled garden not too far to the right, and to the complete left a… huge hedge maze. You could only see part of it but– 
There’s a minotaur in the middle of the maze…? 
The memory came flooding into your brain, and you almost lost your balance for a moment. 
You had been hiking up these hills for days. But a mission was a mission, correct? You looked behind you and noticed Bucky frowning in deep thought. 
“Are you sure about this?” You asked your good friend. You and Bucky had been paired together for many missions recently, all of them successful. You two made a great team. He wasn’t much of a talker, and you enjoyed silence and solitude. 
“Yeah,” He mumbled, coming to a stop beside you. “I received solid intel about a house just beyond these woods. The owner deals in illegal substances,” He added in his usual, dark-humoured, self-deprecating tone, “the kind that can create worse creatures than super soldiers.” 
“Hey!” You tapped him on the chest playfully, disapproving of his joke. Still you said, “I, for one, am glad they made you.” You added to his weird humour, “I get a good friend and a perfect bodyguard all in one.” 
Bucky gave you a rare smile. It made him look boyish and young, and… handsome. You looked away quickly. It always did something to you, that smile. It was a useless little crush you’d been nurturing since that day – months ago – when Bucky took a bullet to his shoulder to save you during a crossfire. 
“You can stay here if you want,” Bucky suggested, “I’ll go take a look and come back.” 
“No,” You reached into your backpack and pulled out two fancy binoculars, handing one to him, “We just need to get on top of this hill, and then we’ll keep an eye on the house and its ground for a while,” You explained as you began hiking up the hill again, Bucky following you loyally like he had this whole time, “And then we’ll make a plan. Okay?” 
“Yes, ma’am.” 
Getting on top of the hill was no big deal. The hike was easy and the hill was high enough that you had a clear vision of the manor and its grounds even with thick woods between the hill and the manor. 
You let out a gasp the moment you looked through the binoculars. Bucky beside you did the same thing, not gasping at the beauty of it all though. Then again, few things impressed Bucky. You supposed this luxurious, gothic manor and its elegant grounds weren’t on the list. 
“Whoever this is should be ashamed that they’re using this beautiful place for something so dark.” You whispered, looking and taking in the details of the manor. It looked enchanting in the morning light. 
“You like it?” 
“Bucky, one would have to be an absolute idiot to not appreciate the beauty of this place. No neighbours, no one to bother you. Just foggy hills, dense woods and… ooh!” You exclaimed with genuine happiness, forgetting for a moment that you were here on a mission and not sightseeing. “Bucky! There’s a maze!” 
“Really?” 
You couldn’t look away. You zoomed as much as you could, trying to take in the details. “Yes, an actual maze and it’s huge!” You had the biggest smile on your face. “Oh this is a dream, and… oh look! There’s a minotaur in the middle of the maze!” 
Bucky let out a chuckle. “How cliché.” 
You kept watching, letting your guard completely down for a moment. You didn’t see Bucky approaching, you didn’t notice the shift, not until it was too late. 
“I’m sorry, doll.” 
That was the last thing you heard before feeling a burning sensation at the back of your neck, and then darkness and the warmth of Bucky’s chest as he held you to keep you from falling on the ground. 
Fuck. 
Bucky? 
Why would he do that? You didn’t do anything. You were breathing heavily now, looking around for a way out. These windows didn’t open, and the door must be– 
It opened right as you stared at it, and in walked Bucky. Dressed differently. He wasn’t in his usual mission gear. No leather jackets, no gun holsters, not even his knives. Just a casual shirt, and comfy trousers. Like this was normal. Like he was at home. 
Your eyes widened as this started to make a little more sense. But you didn’t dare think about it properly. He wouldn’t… right? He was your friend. You two had fought together for years. He was one of the good guys… right? 
“Buck?” 
He shut the door behind him as he stepped further into the room. “I came as fast as I could when they told me you were beginning to wake up.” He said a little sheepishly. 
What? But most importantly, “Who’s ‘they’?” You asked, trying your best to put all your training into practice and keeping your calm. 
“My housekeepers.” He answered like it was the most obvious thing. 
You noted the way he avoided your eyes, the way he kept flexing his metal hand. Bucky was slightly nervous. 
You took a step back, pressing against the cold windows. “What is going on? What is this place? Did you…” Your voice cracked as you asked, “Did you drug me?” 
“You wouldn’t come willingly.” He answered, staring deeply at the fireplace as he approached it and placed his metal hand on the mantle above. “And you wouldn’t be willing to listen to me.” 
Your heart pounded. What was he talking about? “This place, this house is… yours?” 
Bucky nodded. 
“And there is no guy dealing in dangerous substances, is there?” You figured this was a trap and you walked right into it. 
“No.” He answered truthfully. “There isn’t. This is my home. Well, one of them.” 
“Bucky,” You whispered, cautiously. Afraid. Wary. His home? Since when? “Why?”
He finally looked at you. The soft fire in the fireplace lit one side of his face and hid the other side in shadows. Fitting, you thought, despite it all. “You don’t have to be afraid of me.” He said, almost like he was offended that you would think so. “I would never hurt you, doll.” 
“I want the truth, Buck.” You stared deep into his familiar blue eyes, trying to find your friend in there. And he was there, but he was behind a dark smoke screen. “Please.” 
Bucky sighed. “Take a seat.” He said softly, settling down on one of the many sofas scattered around the spacious room. 
You didn’t. You remained there by the windows, like the distance between you and him would save you from the dangers you weren’t aware of yet. 
He sighed again, “Fine, be difficult then.” He got up, and began walking towards you. 
You panicked, remaining frozen in place for a moment. But by the time you moved to get away from him, he was too close. You went to run away but his metal hand firmly around your wrist stopped you. 
“I won’t hurt you.” He repeated, pulling you close until you hit his chest, then wrapped his other arms around you. “Believe me,” He said. 
You shook your head as you looked into his eyes, the hidden darkness in them. “What happened to you?” You whispered, “Why are you doing this?” 
He frowned as if you were the one being ridiculous. “Don’t you see? This place is perfect for us.”
For us? 
You noted the strange haze in his captivating eyes. Something was different about him. 
“What?” You blinked, ignoring the many questions you had. “Bucky, our friends, they need us.” You tried reasoning, though in vain, “We need to go back. And keep fighting–” 
“Back to what?” He argued, cutting you off. “Fight for who?” 
“The innocent people, Buck. The ones who are constant victims of our enemies, and–,” 
“I was a victim too.” He said, silencing you at once with a dark tone. “No one fought for me.” 
He rarely ever brought up HYDRA, so this was new territory to you. You approached it carefully, softening your voice as you said, “Steve did.” 
Bucky surprised you by scoffing carelessly. Dropping his voice he said, “And yet, all I ever was to him in the end was disposable.” 
That shut you up. 
For a moment you felt a fraction of the pain he felt. You always empathised with him, even before you started nurturing that little crush you had on him. “But you have the chance now, Buck.” You tried reasoning, calmly and no longer resisting his grip on your wrist. “Let’s go back, and fight so no one ever has to suffer like you did.” 
“No.” 
The finality in his tone made you shiver. “So what? You’re gonna keep me captive here and we’re gonna let the bad people win?” 
Bucky sighed. “They already won. Don’t you see the state of this world?” 
You flinched. “That’s your goal then? To punish the world and everyone in it?” 
“Punish it?” He scoffed. “No. I want to see it try and fend for itself. Or watch it die trying.” 
“Bucky…” You didn’t recognise the man you were looking at. “We can make a difference, no matter how minor. We’re the good guys, remember?” 
He let go of your hand, turned to face the windows pensively. “I’m done being good.” 
You remained frozen in place, assessing the situation quickly. He had his back to you, so he was confident you wouldn’t hurt him. He had shut the door on his way in but never locked it. That must mean even if you got past the door, he must’ve made sure you wouldn’t make it out of this house. 
But you couldn’t leave, could you? You believed him when he said he wouldn’t hurt you. You wouldn’t leave him here like this. Bucky was hurting, and he was acting this way because of that. But the house? Why bring you here? Why drug you? What did he want?  
“Bucky,” You said after taking a deep breath. “You’re my friend, we’ve fought together for years. You rescued me so many times. You took a bullet for me. I know you’re good.” 
He shook his head, looking out the window. “I’ve been good, all my life. I was good when I followed Steve and believed in what he stood for. I was good when I was captured, and forced to be a killing machine. I was good, deep down I know I was still good, even when they wiped my mind each time and made me perform however they wanted.” 
You flinched, your heart sinking with each word that came out of his mouth. 
He continued, as if numb to it all. 
“I was desperately good even when I found myself stuck in a wrong, superhuman body. I was good even when everyone around me expected me to get over it and keep fighting like a good little soldier.” He finally turned to you and said, “I’m done, now. What did it ever give me?” 
His words hit harder than a punch to the face. “Buck…” You almost comforted him, because there was still your dear friend, broken. But wrong. So wrong to believe there weren't still good things to fight for. “You have people who care for you.” 
“Do I?” His tone was mocking. And you didn’t dare reply, so he continued. “I’ve been used in experiments that had no ethical limits. I’ve been a weapon, a commodity. I’ve been a mindless soldier. I’ve been stuck in the body of a murderer. I’ve been a throwaway friend. No one ever cared.” 
“I do.” 
Bucky was quiet. His shoulders moving just a little as he breathed deeply. 
You continued. “And Sam does. And so do all of our friends.” You argued, trying to find something, anything to prove a point, “I mean, all of Wakanda believed in you when they helped you.” 
“They did.” He almost smiled in gratitude. “But they never trusted me.” He sounded genuinely sad. “I remained a weapon.” He looked down at his shiny metal arm and added, “So easily dismantled.” 
Was this really how you would lose him? To the darkness in his head? Your heart pounded as you looked at him. Standing proud and tall, looking out the window as the darkening evening made the room even dimmer. The last logs in the fireplace cracked. And Bucky was still so beautiful standing by the window, but broken. Like a tortured and grim lord of the manor. 
“It doesn’t have to be like this, Buck.” You took a step back when he turned to face you. 
“No, it doesn’t.” He agreed, weirdly. Then added, “I don’t want to fight anymore. I don’t care about the rest of the world, I’m done being a good little soldier. I just want to be a man.” He took a few more steps until he was right in front of you. His handsome face so close to yours. “And be with the woman I want, in our own quiet little paradise.” His hand reached out to gently stroke your cheek. His metal hand found itself on your waist, tugging you closer gently. “Isn’t this perfect, doll? Hmm?” 
You were so surprised that you didn’t even properly register the meaning behind his words until you replayed it in your head a few times. “You… what?”  
“You know,” He smirked, fingers now tracing your parted lips. “At first I wondered what was taking you so long to realise. I’m not very good at being subtle with my feelings, you see. But you never caught on.” His smirk widened. “And then I found out why in the best way possible.” 
You were afraid to ask for some reasons. “Why?” You whispered. 
Bucky leaned in, brushing the cold tip of his nose against your cheek, and said, “Because you like me too, and you were too busy hiding your own feelings that you didn’t pay attention to mine. Wanna know how I know?” He chuckled, “I heard you whispering my name under your breath as you touched yourself. Too many times to count.” 
You gasped in surprise, unable to move. 
“Well,” He said, “That’s a figure of speech, of course I know exactly how many times. I kept count.” He continued, loving the way you began squirming in embarrassment. “It’s the metal hand, isn’t it? It turns you on?” He chuckled. 
“You…” You finally found your voice and stumbled on your words, “You had no right.” 
He laughed, pulling away to look at you. “To listen to you moaning my name? Not my fault you’re so loud to my very, very sensitive ears.” He teased. 
He was so close. His chest, so warm. His arms around you, so perfect that you almost forgot all about the conversation you had before all this. 
You stepped away, and out of his embrace. Taking a deep breath, you tried to focus on the important thing here. “What do you want, Bucky?” 
He shrugged, “Well right now I want us to have dinner, it’s getting late and you haven’t eaten all day.” 
You sighed. “Then? When I want to leave, you’ll stop me?” 
Bucky was so very still. It was inhuman. Then again, he was not exactly just a regular guy. “If I wanted you trapped here you would have woken up tied to the bed, doll.” 
“So I can walk away from here if I want?” You asked. No. That would be too easy. Wouldn’t it? 
“You could.” 
Another trap, you figured. For the first time since this absurd evening started, you straightened your back and faced Bucky with a little less fear, and embarrassment. “You won’t win, Bucky. Not like this.” 
He gave you a handsome, smug grin and said, “We’ll talk about all that later. Now, do what you need to do, freshen up,” He pointed at the door in the corner of the bedroom, the bathroom you assumed, “And join me for dinner downstairs.” He leaned in and too casually kissed your forehead. “Don’t keep me waiting, doll.” 
And he left. Leaving you even more confused than when you didn’t have any answers. 
You thought about it as you reluctantly made your way into the bathroom which was just as dark and luxurious as the rest of the bedroom. Dark green walls, a large white and gold tub, mouldings on the ceiling matching the bedroom, large gilded mirrors and sinks. A spacious shower booth, with fancy faucets and shower heads. 
You checked the many cabinets and found everything one could need. The skin care products looked inviting but first of all, you needed a hot shower. You grabbed a neatly folded bathrobe and some body wash products and stepped into the booth. 
Then you spent your time thinking about everything. What did you know as of now? That Bucky owned this place, it was his home. That Bucky was done fighting, he had plans to say ‘fuck it all’ and retire. That he liked you back? Fine, he did. He wanted you to stay here with him? And never fight again? That was a whole other thing you had to worry about. But first, how to get out of here? 
Also how did Bucky afford this place? Had he always been filthy rich? 
What was the endgame here? And if he managed to keep you here, would any of your friends come looking for you? No one even knew where you were, that’s how much you trusted Bucky. The moment he brought this fake mission up you agreed to come with him immediately. Alright, your little crush had had an influence on your decision making but still. 
Could you trust Bucky now? It felt foolish to admit, but yes. Yes you could. Bucky would never hurt you. 
So you got out of the shower, with more questions and made your way back to the room and found neatly folded clothes on the bed. Soft, comfy, casual clothes. You put them on and took a deep breath before you stepped out of the room. 
As you made your way down one of the two ornate staircases, you hoped you’d find Bucky again somewhere down here. Meanwhile you couldn’t help but admire his home. It was… hauntingly beautiful. It was more dark than lit. Rich colours: dark green, dark red, black. Gilded picture frames along the hallways, large foyer, high ceilings, carved designs on almost all the furniture. Everything screamed luxury, expensive taste, old money, and like a home out of another era. An older era. 
You couldn’t see any of the housekeepers, but you soon found Bucky sitting at the head of a ridiculously fancy dining table in the dining room. 
“There you are,” He said, placing his wine glass down, “I was beginning to think you must be trying to get away.” He teased. 
You rolled your eyes and then quickly took in the room. Just as spacious as the rest of the house. A fireplace in a corner, tall arched windows, dark red curtains which allowed just the briefest amount of moonlight to come in. The room was well lit, and you couldn’t miss the grand chandelier above the adorned table and chairs. 
Sitting at the head of that table, Bucky reminded you of a bored prince – surrounded by unexplainable luxury which suited him too well. 
You took a seat at the other end of the table, facing Bucky fully. He noted your tactic and smirked. Then you said, “I didn't know you were rich.” Because surely super soldiers aren’t getting paid this much. 
He shrugged like it was no big deal, “I’m over a century old, doll. I would be an absolute idiot if I didn’t amass a fortune that could last me a couple more lifetimes.” 
You also noted the way he used your own words against you, but kept quiet. “Right. But how exactly?” 
He explained. “A lot of the people I was asked to... get rid of for HYDRA were influential people. Rich, wealthy, borderline royalty. And they would always try to bribe me just to be spared. They offered me everything I wanted if I let them go.” 
He sighed, almost in annoyance of the memories. 
He continued, “I couldn't let them go of course, but they always revealed all their secrets during their last moments.” His stare was distant. “And after the job was done, whatever they left behind, whatever they offered, locations of their hidden wealth and riches, it was all mine for the taking.” He added, “And since I was a good little machine, HYDRA never looked too deep into what I did as long as I got the job done.” 
Everytime Bucky opened up about his past, you realised that there was so much about him that you didn’t know. “That’s a lot of secrets.” 
“Indeed.” 
“And this manor? It’s one of the secrets left behind by someone you got rid of as well?” 
“No,” He said, “This was built from the ground up. Decades ago.” 
Decades. Again, another reminder of how many lives he had lived in the past century. It was almost fascinating. You opened your mouth to ask another question, but the door behind Bucky – which you hadn’t noticed earlier – opened and in walked two ladies with full trays in their hands. One of the trays filled with food, including a glass of wine, was brought over to you. 
You eyed the tray for a moment before you sent a questioning glare at Bucky. 
“What? Is it a surprise that I know what you like?” There was that smug grin again on his handsome face. 
Hunger won over confusion and anger, so you took a bite out of some food before you asked, “How did you put up such a good façade? For so long?” Hiding all of this couldn’t have been easy, right? 
“I didn't.” He answered. “I thought a broken soldier was what I needed to be, all I could ever be.” He smiled, “Then I met you and for the first time, I craved a simpler life. One where we could have nothing but time to do what we wanted, and no longer have to partake in fights that aren't ours.” 
You genuinely wanted to know, so you asked softly, “Is this truly what you want, Buck? To sit here and say to hell with the world outside?” 
“Isn’t it peaceful?” He questioned, “No meetings, or briefings. No country out to get us, no enemies out to kill us.” 
You remained quiet. For a little while, you both ate in silence. You could feel Bucky’s eyes on each one of your movements. He kept quiet though, and then you asked, “Why is no one out to get you? Given who you are and who you used to be, one would assume you’d have the most enemies out there.” 
“I have friends in all the right places.” He answered. 
You frowned. “What does that mean?” 
He smirked, “Now, I can’t give away all my secrets, can I?” He said as he stood up, wiping the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “I have some things I need to do, you’ll find your way back to your room?” 
You nodded, though suspicious at the sudden freedom. 
He whispered a quick ‘good night’ and left. Which made you frown in confusion because why would he leave you here? When you could easily walk out? Was he expecting you to try and escape? Was he hoping you would? 
You got up from the table, and carefully walked out of the dining room, stepping into the hallway. You didn’t take the time to admire the scones on the walls, the paintings, anything. All you saw was the foyer and beyond which was the grand entrance of the manor. 
Even from the inside you could see the foggy air outside. The fog swirling around like smoke. It looked cold out. Even if you made a run for it, you would be sick and frozen by morning. 
You stood there for a moment, steps away from the foyer. There were no cameras, that was the first thing you looked for in the house. None of the housekeepers could be seen, you realised they made themselves scarce. 
You should’ve taken the staircase and gone back up to the bedroom. Maybe you’d question Bucky tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow he’d listen. But the front doors looked tempting. And that part of your brain which always went seeking trouble, the part that always pushed you into doing bold things, that part made you move towards the doors. 
Chances were that Bucky was watching, and you almost wanted him to see. To see that you couldn’t be kept here. So you went for it. You waited for some kind of alarm to go off as you turned the door knob and pulled open the door, stepping a foot out and then the other. But no alarm came. 
The fog messed with your vision, you couldn’t see further than the white marble steps. It was cold and you had no extra layers on. This was stupid. And yet, you took a few more steps down the marble stairs which led to what you assumed would be the front yard. 
You were about five steps down before you stopped. There was the silhouette of a male figure standing at the bottom of the stairs, engulfed by the fog. The moonlight made him look like a dark villain. Yet the shiny metal arm gave him away. “I thought you said I could walk away.” You tested the waters. 
“I did say you could.” He took a step up the stairs, “I didn’t say I would let you get too far.” 
You scoffed, trying your hardest to hide how you shivered in the cold night. The fog was all around you by now. All you could see was the faint outline of Bucky and the white stairs. 
“Get back inside,” He ordered. “It’s cold out.” 
“I won’t let you make a prisoner out of me.” 
“That’s not my goal here.” He sounded reassuring. 
“Then let me go.” 
“You know I can’t do that, doll.” He took another step, getting closer. You could tell by his stance that he was ready for it, should you want to fight your way out of here. 
And you did. You went for it. 
First a punch, then a kick. It was hard to keep your balance on marble stairs, but you did your best, just like when you two used to spar while training. 
You gave it your all, you tried your hardest to get him off his feet and on the ground and possibly make a run for it, but he anticipated each punch, each kick. You put up a decent fight for a few minutes, grunting at each failed punch and kick. 
“I don’t want to hurt you!” He growled, blocking yet another one of your punches. 
You didn’t stop, you kept trying until it hurt. Until he managed to have you pinned to the ground, your back hurting against the marble stairs, metal hand around your throat, his muscular body straddling yours right there on the cool marble stairs, the edge of the steps digging into your skin, making you hiss in pain. 
“Let go!” You spat bitterly at him, looking up and finding him glaring down at you. His breath fogged against the cold air. 
Bucky chuckled. “You forgot you trained you, doll? Hmm? You forgot who taught you everything you know about combat?” Bucky smirked as he leaned down. His face was directly above yours, his nose touching yours. “Do you know how many times I’ve had to walk away all hard after sparring with you?” He leaned just a little closer so his mouth hovered over yours. “It turned you on too, didn’t it? I could smell it then. And I can smell it now.” 
That did it. You managed to find enough energy to push him off of you, you were on him the moment his body hit the marble floor, straddling him and pinning him to the ground by the throat just like he did you. You could tell the edges of the stairs were digging into his back too by the way he hissed. But you didn’t let go.
“Enough.” You tightened your grip around his throat. “I won’t play this little game with you.” You breathed heavily, exhausted by now, “You want to stay here and pretend to be some tortured, gothic lord of the manor? Fine! Go ahead. But let me go.” 
“You don’t want to go.” He whispered, confidently. He just laid there, under you. Arms limp by his sides even though you knew too well that he could flip you around at any moment he wanted. 
“Oh yeah? Is that what you think?” 
He smirked. It annoyed you how handsome he was. “I know. If you so desperately wanted to get out of here then by now you would’ve used the knife you snuck into your pocket from the dinner table.” He chuckled. “Can’t do it, can you?” 
Damn him. And here you thought you were being slick. You didn’t realise his hands had moved, no longer limp on his sides but now on your legs, fingers reaching for the crease of your thighs, rubbing your skin through the thin PJ pants you wore. 
You gasped when his metal hand found its way between your parted legs, caressing you through the layers of clothing you wore. “Don’t you see?” He said, cold fingers moving along your waistband, “I’m doing this for us.” His fingers slipped into your pants, making you gasp even louder as you felt him touching you. 
Your face burned as you thought about how many times you’d dreamt of this moment. How many times had you pretended it was his hand touching you. But it was never in these circumstances. Never had you thought it would happen on marble stairs, surrounded by dense fog, in some mysterious manor. 
“Bucky,” You whispered, feeling his fingers slowly separating your wet folds, inspecting your slit before he slid one, then a second metal finger into you. 
“Yes, baby?” His other hand wandered all over your body as you straddled him, reaching up to cup your face. His thumb traced the shape of your mouth while his two metal fingers slid so perfectly in and out of you, making you ride his fingers just briefly to chase the feeling of them against you. “Doesn’t it feel good? Hmm?” He thrust his fingers deeper into you, his metal thumb gently rubbing your clit, “Does it feel better than your fantasies?” 
Damn him. 
You couldn’t help but grind against his hand, wanting more and more. You didn’t care about anything right now, all that mattered was how good it felt. How much, much better than your fantasies it was. But you wouldn’t tell him all that. 
He didn’t need to be told. He could see it. The way you moved your hips, the way you bit your lower lip to hold back your moans and whimpers, the way you clenched around his fingers. “Come for me, doll.” He whispered, feeling your grip loosen around his throat. “Come all over my fingers like a good girl.” 
You hated how quickly you came, grinding against his hand and riding his fingers like a desperate woman. The cold, the fog, your knees digging into the hard marble, none of it mattered as you came, panting and trying your hardest to catch your breath. 
“We should head back inside,” He said, catching you just in time as you were about to collapse on top of the stairs, cradling you carefully. “Don’t want you to catch a cold.” 
Two days later, Bucky asked you during breakfast if you wanted to see the walled garden. 
The two of you hadn’t talked much these past two days. You only saw Bucky at meal times, and kept to yourself mostly. The weather had been mostly rainy as well, even thunderstorms at night. It suited the foggy environment really well. 
Neither you nor Bucky brought up that night you two fucked. You crossed paths with him these past two days in the dining room, the hallways, and the main living room, but you didn’t say a word to each other. It was painfully awkward. 
You didn’t hate what happened. You just didn’t understand. You didn’t understand him, nor this situation. None of it. How can Bucky just switch like that? How did he manage to hide all this? What else could he be hiding? 
And this morning, now that the rain had temporarily disappeared and a soft sun was shining, when he offered to show you around the walled garden, it felt like he was extending a peaceful hand. So you agreed immediately. You could use some fresh air. Plus, you figured, you and Bucky would have to talk at some point. 
So by mid-morning, you followed him out into the yard. The walled garden was closeby, and it was one of the most beautiful things you’d ever seen. It was huge. The landscaping was incredible, you could tell a lot of care went into it. 
This is...," You couldn’t come up with the right words. 
There was a pond in the middle. The four stone walls were covered with vines and the tiniest little flowers. The entrance was a moon gate, the entire thing was filled with brick pathways, a small section was dedicated to herbs, but most of the space was occupied by well trimmed hedges and bushes. 
"Beautiful, isn’t it?" He looked around, as if trying to see what it looks like from the eyes of someone seeing it for the first time. "I spend a lot of my time here." He sounded so calm as he said it. Like it brought him genuine happiness. 
"It's so peaceful here." 
You could hear the birds in the nearby trees. You could feel the breeze. The sweet smell of the flowers and slightly stronger scent of the herbs. The cool, damp ground while the smell of the rain lingered. The lush green vines surrounding the walls of the garden. It was more peaceful than it was breathtakingly beautiful. 
Its owner looked no less breathtaking. Dressed in simple dark trousers and a dark green sweater, he looked every bit the master of these grounds. He looked so different now, compared to the Bucky you used to know. 
"We should talk, Buck." You looked down, playing with the fabric of your soft sweater. 
"Yes," He agreed. "You've been ignoring me." He accused. 
You couldn’t look up at him, not even when he stepped closer. “Not ignoring you, I just… it’s hard to understand you, Bucky.” You explained. “One moment you were someone I knew for years, a constant in my life and now you’re… I don’t know this new you.” 
He remained quiet, listening. 
You continued. “Plus you talk about us living here like it was the plan all along.” 
“Wasn’t it?” He said, clenching his jaw then unclenching it. You hated how much you liked that. “Finding peace and a home. Wasn’t that the end goal? Or did you plan to sacrifice yourself in combat?” 
“Our job is to fight, Buck. We–” 
“Who said that?” He argued. “Haven’t we fought enough? Haven’t we given enough?” 
You sighed, looking away at the pond like it would have some answers. Then you said, “We can’t just live out here, away from everyone, leave the world to burn and pretend that this isn’t selfish, Buck.” 
Bucky shrugged, “Why? Nobody batted an eye when Stark did it.” 
“It was different for him.” You said, taking a few steps to reach the nearest rose bush. It had no flowers but you admired it all the same. “He had a family, a kid. He was a married man.” 
Bucky scoffed, “That’s it? That’s what it’ll take, then? I can marry you and give you a child.” He sounded partially playful. And it made you roll your eyes. 
“Shut up, Buck.” 
He chuckled. For a moment it sounded like the many bickerings you two always had as friends. For a moment all of this felt normal, comfortable. 
But it couldn’t be, could it? 
“You’re gonna have to let me go at some point.” 
“No.” He answered, sounding sure of himself as he pulled you into his arms. “I won’t let you go back and fight till it kills you. All so you can protect a world or its people who won’t even care that you died for them.” 
“That’s not your choice to make.” You looked up at him, unable to help yourself as you looked down at his soft lips, wondering what they tasted like. 
“It is.” He argued, leaning in so his mouth brushed against yours. “We could live normal lives, away from all that. Just you and me. We could travel, see whatever little beauty is left in this world. And just be free. Be us.” 
You pushed him away even though all you wanted was to be close to him. “And then what?” You asked, “We’ll be together forever? I have a couple more decades at best. I’m human, remember that.” 
He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets and said, “You could change that.” 
You frowned. “What does that mean?” 
Nothing could’ve prepared you for what he said next. “I have vials of the serum used on me. Not all of it was destroyed over the years.” He sent a curious look your way. “Maybe if you–,” 
You shook your head, rushing past him and almost running back into the house. “You’re insane, Bucky Barnes!” 
Bucky ran after you, “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that, baby. I didn’t mean right now!” 
“No!” You stopped and turned to face him, pointing a finger at his face. “After all that you told me the other night, about being trapped in an alien body and all, now you suggest that you’ll have me take the serum just so you can live out this sick, twisted fantasy you created of us in your head?” 
Bucky stepped closer to you, reaching out with his metal arm and pulling you closer to him. “I’m saying you’d have the choice. I would never force you. And you know that.” 
You were quiet for a moment, breathing heavily as you stared into his deep blue eyes. You didn’t know why, maybe it was the stress of these past few days and this conversation you two had just had, but your eyes burned as you began tearing up. “What happened to you, Buck?” Your voice cracked as you asked. 
You closed your eyes, letting the tears fall down your cheeks. You felt his face getting closer and closer until he pressed his forehead against yours, both his arms circling around you. 
“I’m sorry,” He said, “I shouldn’t have said that. I… I don’t know how to keep you close to me.” 
You didn’t say anything. You just let him hold you, while you felt that inner turmoil growing. 
— 
You ignored Bucky again for the next week or so. You stopped showing up to join him for meals, so he resorted to having your food sent up to your room for you. In that week of silent treatment, you’d began talking to the lovely ladies who worked in his home. 
The oldest of the two was the most affectionate, and she always brought you extra servings of your favourite desserts. Which you had been ignoring. 
One night as she brought your dinner in she said, “He hasn’t been eating well either, you know?” 
You pretended you didn’t care. So you didn’t say anything. 
The kind lady spoke again, “He’s not bad at heart.” 
You couldn’t help but ask, “How long have you known him?” 
She smiled fondly, “Decades. I came looking for work when the house was being built. I’m from the nearby town, you see? And my family… Well, they disowned me after I had a child out of wedlock. I had nowhere to go. But James took me in.” She chuckled, “Of course, I’ve grown old since.” 
But he remained the same. 
She continued, “He’s always been kind. A little cold, maybe. But he’s kind.” She paused and added, “And he’s lonely. He’s trapped, you see? In a world he should’ve never been in. Companionship, perhaps, would make this a little more bearable for him.” 
“It’s not so easy to give up what he’s asking me to. He’s asking me to give up everything, to leave it all behind.” Granted there wasn’t much to leave in the first place. You had no family, and the only friends you had were the ones you fought alongside with. 
She carefully reached out and touched your cheek. The warmth of her hand made you smile faintly. “We all make sacrifices for love, don’t we?” 
You sighed, “I think he’s hurt, and confused.” 
She laughed quietly, “Oh James is many things, confused isn’t one of them.” 
You frowned. “Do you not see that he’s wrong?” You sounded unsure of yourself for a moment there. 
“For choosing to live his life how he wants to? For wanting a better life for you? No.” 
Fine then. “What about how he’s keeping me here?” 
She smiled again. “You know, he always talks about you since the day you two first met years ago. And he always told me how brilliant you were, how strong and brave you were in combat. How well you did in training and how easily you took down men twice the size of you.” She smiled proudly, even though she’d just met you. “And you know what I think?” She paused, “I think if you really wanted to leave, you would’ve fought your way out of here already.” Then before she left your bedroom she added, “Don’t underestimate how much that man loves you.” 
You didn’t sleep all night because you kept replaying that conversation in your head. Over and over again. Were you here, truly, on your own volition after all? Did you subconsciously want this over the violence? 
— 
The next morning, Bucky was surprised to find you making your way into his library. He watched quietly how you paused at the doorway, wide-eyed and startled. 
“You have a library.” 
It sounded less awe-struck and more like an accusation. Like how dare he have a whole ass library and not show it to you earlier? Bucky saw a glimpse of the normal you, and he couldn’t help but smile. This was a gift after a whole week of you ignoring him and him pretending like he wasn’t walking around sulking. “Did you lose your way or did you mean to ruin your streak of giving me the silent treatment?” 
He smirked when you glared at him. 
Damn, his smirk. The way it lit up his handsome face… it had been too long since you’d come. And given he had admitted to having heard you masturbate before, you didn’t dare do it under his own roof. So it was safe to say that you were, maybe, just a little touch-starved and needy. 
And him looking this good early in the morning was not helping. Tight black t-shirt, and soft, grey PJ pants. How dare he look this good while you were barely able to make sense of all that was happening? 
“We should talk. Properly. No fighting, no arguing.” You said. 
Bucky nodded, leaning against a nearby bookshelf. “What about?” 
You took a deep breath, “I think I know why I haven’t fought my way out of here yet. Because let’s face it, I could kick your ass if I really wanted to.” 
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” 
You took a few steps around the room, eyeing the many shelves. It was a grand, two-level library. With ornate metal stairs that led to the top level. It would take a couple of lifetimes to read all the books here. Or maybe just one long super soldier lifetime. 
“Because I’m curious.” You admitted. “You were simply my friend before. But–” 
He added pompously, “One you have a crush on.” 
You ignored that, for now. “But now you’re… someone I don’t know. It’s hard to– it feels different. You feel different. And I can’t help it, but I want to know more. About this life you’re choosing to live. How is it so easy for you to make that choice without any guilt? I want to know.” 
Bucky took a moment to process, then asked, “Are you giving me a chance?” 
“I’m tired of being angry at you for kidnapping me.” You said, sighing. He opened his mouth to argue but you raised a hand to stop him. “I don’t agree with the way you did things, how you’re keeping me here, but I… I miss you, Buck. I miss us.” 
Well, since you were having an honest conversation, Bucky felt comfortable to ask, “Do you still like me?” There was a rare vulnerability in his tone. 
You allowed yourself to take a step closer to the shelf he was leaning against. Inching closer to him you murmured, “I would’ve stabbed you that very first night if I didn’t.” 
He smiled. You smiled back. 
Things were gradually getting back to normal after that. Well, about as normal as things can get when you’re forbidden from leaving the grounds of your friend’s manor. 
You’d missed your usual morning runs, so you resumed going on runs in the mornings. The grounds were more vast than you thought, it took you days to finally map out the entire place. All except the maze. You always ran by it, or around it, never daring to go inside it. Not yet. 
After your runs, and a quick shower, you’d always join Bucky for breakfast. Over time, you learned so much about him and the life he had here. It wasn’t just this magnificent home he owned, but numerous farms and multiple businesses in the small town nearby. 
Your ‘relationship’ with him changed as well. While the two of you didn’t have sex again, the tension was beginning to get too much to ignore. Quick kisses in the mornings, and lingering kisses at night. Oftentimes you were tempted to ask Bucky to spend the night with you, but you thought it’d be best to wait. After all, this was all so new. 
For the first time in years, you were actually contemplating leaving the ‘superhero’ duties behind and choosing yourself. It was hard not to constantly taste the guilt whenever you found yourself so close to giving into Bucky, and choosing what he was offering. 
“Do you really have the serum?” 
You asked one morning, while the two of you chose to have breakfast in the library. It was a rainy morning, and the library had massive windows so Bucky suggested you spend the morning there, knowing how much you liked it when it rained. 
You agreed. Who would say no to breakfast, good books, and a rainy morning? 
Then you got curious, and asked about the serum. 
Bucky nodded. “I managed to get my hands on a few vials.” 
Your eyes widened. “A few? How the hell did you do that?” 
Bucky had a humourless smile on his face. “They tended to give me some freedom whenever I took part in their…more peculiar experiments.” 
You were quick to say, “We don’t have to talk about it if–,” 
He cut you off and explained nonetheless, “They were trying to see if they could create a new generation of super soldiers naturally.” 
You wanted so much to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. Not out of pity, no. Just to remind him of how strong he is and how far he’s come. How he didn’t deserve all that he went through. 
“I had the chance, and I just took some of the vials and hid them out here.” 
“Can I ask why?” 
He kept that same humourless smile. “Out of desperation I guess. I secretly hoped that one day someone might want to be with me. And if needed, I could keep them with me for longer than their human life would naturally allow.” 
“Oh, Buck.” 
You couldn’t help yourself then. You stood up, walked around the small coffee table and sat on the arm of the sofa Bucky was currently sat on. Behind him, rain hit the window mercilessly as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into you. 
He leaned into the hug for a moment, before pulling onto his lap then properly hugging you. He shoved his face into your neck, just breathing. His arms around you were not letting you go anytime soon. 
“I need you.” He murmured against your neck, beginning to lightly kiss your skin. “Please,” He whispered. 
The desire in his voice couldn’t go unnoticed, and you were barely able to hold back either so you quickly straddled him properly. Thankfully the dress you’d chosen for today allowed you to move comfortably. 
Bucky hands were eager, touching you everywhere he could, greedy for more. He grabbed you by the hips and pressed you down, onto his prominent erection. He watched how you whimpered, how your hands found themselves under the tight fabric of his shirt, pressing against his chest, feeling him.
Bucky smirked when he felt your hands moving down his chest, further down until you were rapidly undoing his pants and freeing his throbbing cock. He caught the way you whimpered under your breath at the sight of him, then you went on to wrap your hand around him, slowly stroking him, making him throw his head back and groan under his breath. “Fuck, that feels good, baby. That’s it, keep going.” 
You leaned in close to him again, “I want you,” you whispered against his lips and then pressed your mouth to his. You slipped your tongue past his lips and slowly stroked the top of his mouth, unable to pretend any longer. 
He growled into your mouth, into the kiss as his hands rubbed up and down your sides lovingly. “Take me then. I’m all yours.” 
You didn’t waste any more time. You pulled away from the kiss briefly, lifting your lower body off his. Bucky helped by pulling your thin underwear to the side – both too impatient to properly take your clothes off – and he watched how you slowly lowered yourself down on his cock. 
Your body resisted just a little to fit him inside, but then he pulled you down till you sank down on him completely, both of you moaning at the feeling. 
Bucky grabbed your hips in place and gently thrust his hips up and you moaned wantonly as you felt him fill you up. “Fuck, baby… such a good girl for me.” 
You whimpered as the tip of his cock reached sensitive places you never knew existed. You took a good look at the man beneath you. He was beyond beautiful. Lips parted, breathing heavily. It gave you a warm rush to see him this worked up knowing you were the reason why. 
You moved faster then, impaling yourself down on his cock. You whimpered shamelessly as you felt him filling you up completely each time, feeling him reach deeper into you with each thrust. His metal hand slipped between the two of you and found your clit, he rubbed it lazily. 
“This little cunt was made for me, wasn’t it?” He groaned, looking up to watch how you frowned in pleasure. “All for me…”  
You leaned down to kiss him, biting down and tugging at his bottom lip while you sped up, and his cock stretched you out each time he filled you up. “You feel so good,” You mumbled. 
Bucky pulled your warm body closer to his. Your lips brushed against his each time you moved up and down his cock. “You’re mine.” He said. “You hear me?” 
You nodded, feeling him stretch you out as you stared into his eyes. Bucky held you at your waist and rhythmically thrust his hips up each time to match your movements. Brows furrowing and panting while you rode his cock. 
“Tell me you’re mine.” He panted against your cheek, kissing the side of your face and gripping your jaw with his hand. “Tell me you’re mine to fuck, to love, and care for. Tell me.” 
“All yours…” You didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, and he kept thrusting his hips up into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came, hard, feeling your walls squeezing and clenching around him as you came undone. You panted and leaned forward, pushing your face into his neck to catch your breath. 
Bucky came right after you, his warm load spilling inside of you, filling you up as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed your trembling body closer to him. 
You laid your head on his shoulder, catching your breath, as you thought of a lot of things. The main one being, you didn’t hate this at all. You wouldn’t mind if this was your daily life. Maybe it was the post-sex brain but, this felt so right and you didn’t ever want to leave this moment. 
It was hard keeping your hands to yourselves for the following days. You and Bucky began sleeping in the same bed. 
On days when the weather was good, Bucky would take you out and show you around the little town. It was cosy and perfect, and had the best bakeries in the world. Then he would take you to the many farms he owned, and you saw genuine happiness on his face. Like this calm life was indeed all he wanted. 
And time just flew by. You no longer kept track of days. 
One evening, Bucky asked, “Have you been in the maze yet?” 
You linked your elbow to his as the two of you made your way downstairs, and said, “Not yet. It looks… I don’t know, intimidating. And it’s huge, I worry I’ll get lost.” 
Bucky chuckled. “Want me to take you?” 
“Right now? But it’s getting dark.” 
“Come,” He led you to the front door, crossing the foyer, “It’s prettier at night anyway.” 
It was dark out, but there were golden lights placed all around the tall hedge maze. It wasn’t too lit up but just enough to create the right ambiance and allow one to roam around comfortably. It was colder inside, you realised as you held onto Bucky’s hand and let him guide you deeper and deeper inside. 
The fog was beginning to float around, settling just above the ground the deeper you went inside the maze. You shivered, despite the coat Bucky insisted you wore before stepping out of the house. 
“Don’t be scared, baby.” Bucky reassured you as he wrapped his arm tighter around you. “I’m right here.” 
The maze wasn’t creepy by any means. Like everything else on these grounds, it was hauntingly beautiful. Timeless. Like it knows too much, like it was alive and it remembered. It was inviting, even as you went deeper and deeper until you reached the middle. And faced the gigantic water fountain, in the middle of which, placed on a stone pedestal was the minotaur statue. 
It felt alive too. Like he was waiting for a command to move. 
The middle area was spacious, tidy and beautiful. With alcoves, benches, bird feeders, and brick pathways. And in the dark, with fog swirling around, it looked like a scene from a movie. 
Bucky stood back and let you take it all in. He watched how you slowly walked around the fountain, admiring the intricate details, admiring the statue. 
Then you asked, “Why the minotaur?” You stopped at the other side of the fountain, watching Bucky through the soft streams of water that fell. 
Bucky smiled. “For dramatics, mostly. I like the myth.” 
You chuckled. “I see.” 
Bucky shoved his hands into his coat pockets and asked, “You ever wonder what truly happened to the maidens that were sent into the minotaur’s maze?” 
“They were never seen again. He either ate or killed them according to the myths.” You answered. 
He nodded, “Or maybe he didn’t hurt them. Maybe they just never wanted to leave.” 
Ah. So he was speaking in riddles again. “Like how you don’t want me to ever leave?” 
“You won’t.” He sounded too sure, yet again. 
“You sound very sure.” You watched him carefully. 
Bucky smiled, “You forget that I know you, doll. Better than you know yourself.” He paused, then added, “You find comfort in the darkness too.” 
“Comfort?” 
Bucky remained on the other side of the fountain as he spoke, the fog swirling around him almost like he ordered it to. “You think I don’t know you have trouble sleeping? That the nightmares bother you too? Of all the missions we’ve been on, the people we’ve had to kill for some greater good? Cities we demolished? Houses and families we tore apart? All in the name of being altruistic heroes?” 
Suddenly you had trouble breathing. 
Bucky continued, this time walking around the fountain and slowly getting closer to you, “That’s why you like running, isn’t it? You pretend you’re running from it all. You pretend you’re free. That you can finally escape it all and put an end to it. You run till your legs get numb, till your lungs burn. Till each breath hurts. So it can finally feel like well-deserved punishment.” 
“Stop.” You audibly gasped for air this time, as your eyes began watering. You no longer felt the cold. No longer felt the dampness of the fog. Nothing, but the ache in your chest. 
“I’ve been there, doll. No matter what you do, it doesn’t go away. The guilt doesn’t go away. Not until you stop and walk away from that life.” 
“Bucky, please…” You turned around, not able to face him anymore as the tears fell down your cheeks. You heard him getting closer. You felt his warmth against your back as he placed his arms around you, pulling you in. 
“Maybe that’s why the maidens never left the maze.” He said. “Maybe they realised that his darkness was better than the cruel world who reduced their pure hearts and souls to being mere sacrifices.” 
The night had gotten colder somehow. The wind had picked up, like it was about to rain. The fog clinging to the hedges was thicker now. 
“Stay with me.” He whispered into your ear. “It’s chaos out there. Stay here with me.” 
You sniffled quietly. “I’m scared, Buck.” 
The rain came then. Light drizzle, then slowly getting heavier. Bucky pulled you to the nearest alcove and kept you safe and warm between the stone wall and his muscular body, sheltering you from the rain. 
“I’m here.” He reassured you. 
“I’m scared.” You repeated, holding onto him like he was the only thing you’d ever hold. 
Bucky pressed his lips against your forehead, “I know, baby. I know.” He murmured. “But I see you. You'll never have to pretend with me. I know you’re tired, of fighting, of being good and getting nothing in return. It’s okay to stop, baby. We’ll never have to fight or kill again.” He sounded hopeful. “We’ll be happy here.” So hopeful, and pure that it hurt. “I’m here, doll. It’s okay.” 
You couldn’t help but kiss him. Bucky kissed you back ferociously, like he’d held back all those times before, but now he no longer could. His hands wandered, pulling your dress up quickly as he knelt in front of you before you could even process it. 
He pressed his lips to your inner thighs, kissing you wherever he could as his fingers lowered your underwear down to your ankles. You stepped out of it as his mouth got closer and closer to your dripping core. 
“Bucky…” You sighed, as you felt his breath against your wet folds. You couldn’t help but slide your fingers into his soft hair, as he brought his mouth over to your clit, sucking on it hard enough to make you squirm in pleasure, your back digging into the stone wall of the alcove. 
His tongue slid up and down your folds, teasing your entrance, occasionally flicking your clit. “So fucking good,” He whispered, hands caressing and groping your thighs as he ate you out. His tongue slowly circled your throbbing clit. 
He parted your legs further as he slowly brought a metal finger up to your clit, watching it sliding agonisingly slowly down your slit, parting your wet folds.
You shivered under his cold touch, then bit your lip to refrain from moaning too loudly. You sighed, then gasped audibly as he slid a metal finger inside you, stroking your walls gently while he placed his mouth back on your clit. “Please…” You begged, wanting more.
Lips brushing against your wetness he asked, “Will you promise to stay here with me? Forever?” He growled as you kept whining and squirming under his addicting touch, “Answer me.” 
“Yes…” You whispered, breathless and wanting. “Yes, I will.” You moaned. 
He smirked against your wet skin before standing back up, enjoying the way you whined in protest. “You’re mine.” He said. 
You whined again, “Bucky, please…”
He chuckled and undid his pants before picking you up and kissing you deeply as he pinned you to the wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist and his cock briefly brushed against your wet folds, making you shiver at the brief contact. 
You couldn’t take the teasing anymore. Moaning into the kiss you said, “Bucky please,” You begged, “I need you. I need you… please.” You whispered. 
Bucky kissed down your neck, peppering it with kisses as he aligned his throbbing tip with your entrance. Slowly, he pushed himself into you. His fingers digging into your skin as he held you by your hips, and yours holding on to his shoulders as he filled you up nicely. 
“This is all you wanted? Hmm?” He groaned, moving just the slightest bit. “You’re so perfect, baby.” 
He held you up against him as he sped up into you. He dipped his head into the crook of your neck and mumbled, “You’ll always be mine.” He growled, “And we’ll be happy forever here.” 
Behind him, just beyond the shelter of the alcove, the rain was getting heavier. Louder. But with your heartbeats echoing in your ears you could barely focus on it. 
You whined just a little louder this time and his mouth soon found yours again. He nibbled on your bottom lip and you let out shaky breaths as he kept fucking into you relentlessly, earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls perfectly. 
Bucky nibbled on the skin under your ear and you lost it. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was his body and his cock inside of you. 
You whimpered, “Can I please come?” 
“Go on, baby.” He mumbled softly against your skin while he fucked you like an animal, “Come all over my cock,” He spoke, fucking you harder and deeper. 
Your throbbing clit rubbed against his pelvic bone each time he buried himself completely in you and it was hard to even think coherently.
He quickened his pace, whispering, “Mine… ” in your ear as he pounded into you as fast as he could, your back slamming into the stone wall with each thrust.
You could hear the sounds of your skin slapping against each other over the heavy rain. Your legs started to shake around him as he quickened his pace, now pounding into you mercilessly.
“Come for me, doll.” 
You couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you came undone around his cock, whining and whimpering. Walls clenching around him, nails scratching down his neck and a strained moan escaping your mouth as you came hard. More tears streaming down your face. 
He came right after you did, cock throbbing against your pulsating walls, moaning into your ear when he felt your walls clenching violently around him. 
He didn’t pull out immediately. He just kept his cock carefully buried in you. He relished your warmth and leaned in to kiss you again, passionately, much more gentle than before. “I’ve got you,” He murmured. “You’re safe with me.”
The epiphany of it all made you unable to stand on your two feet for too long. You briefly remembered Bucky carrying you all the way out of the maze, into the house and up the stairs. 
You fully came back to your own body only after Bucky had submerged you in a warm bath. With him seated behind you and caressing your spent body. 
“Are you okay, doll?” 
You nodded, sitting with your back to his chest. “I’m okay.” You whispered.
Bucky’s hand rubbed your back in a soothing way that had you sighing in bliss. Then he said, “I’ll take you somewhere nice tomorrow.” 
You smiled with your eyes closed, leaning into his touch. “Where?” 
“It’s a surprise.” 
“How many more secrets have you kept from me?” 
He chuckled. “Enough that it would take you a lifetime to uncover them all.” 
“You have a lot of faith in the durability of this relationship.” You teased. 
“Hmm, I do.” He sighed as he left soft kisses all over the side of your face. Outside the rain was getting harsh and loud again. But here, everything was warm and perfect. “You can’t run from me.” He teased. 
Couldn’t you? You sighed. Did you even want to anymore?
Maybe you would end up finding comfort in the darkness with him. In the familiarity of his arms. In the warmth of his touch and smiles. Hell, maybe you’d be willing to take the serum one day. But all that for later, being here was all that mattered right now. 
You leaned your head back onto his shoulder, back pressing against his chest as you let him hold you. 
A lifetime… yeah that didn’t sound too bad. 
Bucky kissed your forehead as you leaned your head back, resting it on his shoulder. Safe, satisfied, and in his arms. He often dreamed of this. He kissed your forehead again as he smiled. He knew what you must be thinking about. He could almost hear it. 
He knew you were having a slight hard time accepting all this, choosing it. The guilt would go away in time. He would do whatever it takes to help you adjust to your new life. And everything would be perfect then. 
There was a small voice in his head that told him that he shouldn’t ignore the possibility that this could be a ruse. That you were playing along, trying to earn his trust, waiting for him to have his guard down so you could run from here. 
Bucky smirked as he leaned his head back against the edge of the tub, his arms firm around you as you both soaked in the last few moments of the warm water before it got cold. 
He wasn’t stupid, and you were a very smart woman, so of course he’d thought about that possibility. And though he knew the chances of this being true were very slim, he couldn’t just sit and wait. Could he? That’s why he took all the precautions he could beforehand. 
He made sure, even if you were to leave him and run back to what used to be your ‘normal’ lives, that there was nothing left for you to go back to.
There was no one left. Another secret of his, tucked away. 
But he would always be here for you. Bucky turned his head and kissed your forehead again. He vowed to love you enough that, like the maidens in the myths, you’d never want to leave his maze either. 
Fin. 
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worukin · 2 years
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╭୨୧︰ prince yandere x servant reader
・✦⇢ working as a butler was something you did willingly. after all, serving the royal family earned you lots of coin. and you were such a loyal servant that the prince couldn't help but want to snatch you up for himself.
︰꒰1・ ( warnings ) — slight possessive behaviour, yandere themes, clinginess, pet names, lots of affection, showing y/n off like a trophy.
︰꒰2・ ( notes ) — originally intended to make the yandere a vampire but i wasn't too sure. maybe in the near future? ahh idk. but i do have things planned. anyway, a little something for being absent as i work on bigger drafts! ( word count: insert wc )
( if you are uncomfy with this type of content, kindly block me instead. this was very fun to write hope you enjoy <3 )
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After a long time of working in such a place, you found your way through the maze of hallways covered with odd decor.
Sometimes there would be paintings of people who were nude and it did fluster you quite a bit. Or a statue of an unknown person, maybe even some vases filled with flowers. All to tend to the taste of the Royal family.
Now, you've been here for such a long time now and grown used to The Prince's silly antics. Always asking you to do your chores around his wing. Not that you minded.
"Oh come on Y/n~ Don't you want to rest a bit?" He cooed, laying on his stomach as he watched you with glee. "I apologize your Highness, but doing so would be overstepping boundaries."
He huffed as you continued to dust his room. Wiping the windows, adjusting the curtains, moving the carpet. Oh how cute you were in his eyes. "I wouldn't mind, you are my favourite little servant after all "
Eyes shined with glee when you turned away to hide the fact you were flustered. Such high praise coming from the prince made you giddy. "Please your Highness, picking favourites isn't fair." You sighed.
"Oh darling but you love it!" He exclaimed, a pout forming on his lips. The prince always did enjoy spoiling you with his riches. You hummed— though it was true you reveled at the fact you were his favourite, you weren't happy with it giving you a bigger advantage than the others.
You stepped back from the vase of flowers, cleaning up the roots you cut off. "I'm glad you think highly of me, but this is quite unprofessional." The last thing you would want is being banished by Her Majesty for being with the Prince as a servant and not a noble.
"Is my affections for you not enough? Perhaps I need to be more open." The prince gave a close-eyed smile at the thought of bragging how he had such a catch, a loyal passionate servant like you doesn't come around often.
Your brow lifted. "Open? More open how?" A confused expression formed when all you got in response was a giggle. "My apologies your Highness, I didn't mean to speak so informally."
The prince scoffed. "Oh please, you are my favourite. If anything I'm glad you're relaxed around me to speak like that." Heart swelling just thinking about being informal with you— maybe he could just take you away for himself.
"Awe, wouldn't you enjoy being alone? Just the two of us and away from such a stuffy manor?" He dreamed of waking everyday beside you, instead of waking to the sound of another servant's knocking. You didn't answer.
The loud ring of a bell startled you, reminding you of your duties. "Oh! My apologies your Highness, but I must go now." Hurrying out of his room you uttered another sentence. "Thank you for having such fondness towards me."
He giggled, waving a hand around. "No worries my dear, see you at dinner~" the prince sighed as you left, hearts in the air and in his eyes. "Oh my love, you don't understand at all do you? No matter, I'll lay it to you soon enough."
Various thoughts of hooking his arm around your waist as you attended a ball— everyone in awe at such a pair. Untouchable you both would be, a barrier between you two and everyone else.
He'd leave feverish kisses on your skin to tease and to relish in such jealous stares. That's right, you're his.
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ʚ ﹒ ﹕ ̟乀 all works belong to @worukin, do not repost on anywhere else with or without credit, do not plagiarise. ty!
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Maze Manor Character Update!!
Been thinking about starting a webcomic. Got one more character to fully develop and then I can make sure I have the story all drafted out!
My characters:
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The teaser I made one day when this idea hatched in my brain:
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There's a bunch of side characters I should draft up as well... does this look interesting based off of the first pieces I've made?
I think this will probably be a bit like if Infinity Train met The Owl House and Dead End Paranormal Park. Honestly, I bet you could draw even more comparisons to SO many stories! I love stories.
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leonw4nter · 3 months
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And When The Sun Left, I Thought You Never Loved Me
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RE4R!Leon x F!Reader royal AU
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You yawn and feel the exhaustion take over your senses and weigh down your lids yet sleep does not claim you; you consumed three thick books, all three stacked on your bedside vanity but you find yourself unable to sleep, for some odd reason. Warm milk with honey, sniffing peppermint oils, and an opened window to let the cold evening gale circulate in your room– you’ve tried it but you still continue to lay awake and irritated in your bed, turning over to lie on your stomach to groan into your silk pillowcase. You’re sure that the sun will rise from the sea again in a few hours, the tweeting of birds rending you that the night is over and you’ve lost the chance to rest for the day ahead will be busy, overseeing wedding preparations with your betrothed, Leon. Only having migrated to his palace a week ago, you were still in the process of familiarization with the ins and outs of his grand residence. You assumed that sleeping in a new environment, one wildly different from your manor, affected your sleeping habit.
One of your nurse-maids has also informed you that being far from your husband-to-be, especially in the evenings, could be one of the sources of your troubles with sleeping. Though he is to be your husband in a matter of days, you are not very familiar with him and the same goes for him; you two have only met a month ago, over a talk of paintings and music. You must admit, he seems to be genuine of heart and truly kind to any person he meets but you know that this could change as soon as he marries you and is expected to give the kingdom heirs. You wince at the thought of heirs, unprepared for such an undertaking despite the public’s expectations, especially the families joined by your union. At first, you were hesitant and against whoever your parents paired you with but after getting along and taking a liking to the crown prince of the kingdom, you are now only half hesitant to this marriage.
Turning to your side with your eyes trained on your curtains gently swaying along to the cold breeze, you wonder if Leon is also struggling to fall asleep right this moment or if his own nurse-maids have given him remedies to induce a deep and restful sleep. What do they give him? Warmed milk or cold milk? With or without honey? Does he even need these in order to fall asleep? Since Leon is often busy with building strength and engaging in his studies in his palace’s own library, you figure that each day for him must be eventful if slumber claims him so easily. The more you ponder about his sleep habit and regiment, the more you grow envious of him right now; you itch to get up, depart your chambers, and head to him, maybe even fall asleep tucked away safely into his side– if he loves you back and is willing to breach the conduct between betrothed pairs– to sleep in separate chambers until the night of their wedding. As soon as the idea is entertained, the harder it is to ignore its appeal to your current state. You sit up and shake your head, trying to clear your mind of any thought that involves you walking down unlit and unfamiliar halls, looking for the door of the crown prince’s royal chambers. Even if you are familiar with the maze-like residence, you doubt that you can get through his doors that are guarded by elite-ranking knights. Sighing, you accept that you will hear birds soon and will appear before your family and his with dark bags beneath your eyes.
“Ah, yes. I struggle with sleep,” you suddenly recall him telling you quite some time ago. “The images of battle, the smell of rust and blood harass me just as I slip into slumber. It… it haunts me.” You sit up, pity settling deep in your bones; you have experienced losing sleep due to nightmares every once in a while yet here he is, plagued and haunted by the monsters of his past and present every night. The bags underneath his eyes suddenly make sense, along with his frequently chapped lips and his exhausted aura. Not even the most calming and fragrant oils could help him, for those only served as temporary relief for the troubled young prince. Determined to go to him, more for his sake than your own this time, you grab your maroon cloak, and quietly leave your bedchambers. A few steps down the hall, a considerable distance from your door, you regret not bringing along a lantern with you. Despite the silver gleam of the moonlight, this would be little help to a place as foreign as this. Far from your door and forcing yourself to be familiar with what will soon be your residence, you continue on in the dark with a hand around the walls as you tread along, feet gently padding along the carpet.
“Floors are equal to rank,” you mumble to yourself. “The king and queen are on the uppermost floor, crown prince on the level beneath theirs. I’m on the lower levels, which means I will climb a staircase… twice or thrice.”
You’re not sure where you are or where the staircase is. You’re certain that there is a painting hung by the stairs but as you continue walking, you’re certain your memory may be playing tricks on you. To make matters worse, you’re growing increasingly afraid as you head to his chambers alone in the dark. The eyes of the portraits of past royals feel as if they are moving and staring at the back of your head, ready to pounce from the gold frame and maul you. Doing the sign of the cross and mumbling a proactive prayer for yourself, you dash down the hall and turn to the first hallway extension you see. You keep a hand firmly fastened around your mouth, mentally reminding yourself to keep yourself silent. So much for staying silent when you bump your elbow against the wall, startling yourself, and tripping over your own feet and landing harshly on your side with a thud. You are not in pain, not yet at least, because your attention is turned to the stretch of the hallway behind you and the dead-end in front of you. You focus on leveling your breathing and trying to limit the noise you’ve been making since earlier, the thudding and the yelp you forgot to conceal. The dead-end in front of you appears to melt and disintegrate, the walls opening up but you look up and realize that it’s not a dead-end; it’s a door.
“Who dares to interrupt the crown prince’s slumber.” A gravelly, baritone voice demands. You gasp, looking up at the man in front of you. Leon. Your eyes widen, breath hitched in your throat.
“My prince!” You whisper with urgency, adjusting your position to be kneeling in front of him, forehead to the ground with your hands laying flat beside your head. “I- I apologize. Disrupting and causing a ruckus was far from my intentions!”
Leon crouches and tips your chin up politely, blue eyes inspecting your blushing and reddened face. “You look troubled. What bothers you?”
“I ran here, my liege. I am unfamiliar with the palace and bumped my elbow, which startled me. I apologize and ask for your forgiveness, my prince.”
“You did not exactly answer my question, my princess.” He says, helping you stand up. He lays his hands on your shoulders, looking you over before he gently takes your forearm and inspects your elbow. A slight redness right where the anterior band should be.
You mentally berate yourself for not giving him an answer, wishing that you hit your head instead and fell concussed so that you didn’t have to deal with this situation.
“Ah, my deepest apologies once again.” You keep apologizing, you look like a hooligan! “I came here to see you, sire. I…” I wanted to see if you were kind enough to let me into your bedchambers and perhaps let me lay by your side to fall asleep! “I… was wondering if you were sleeping soundly. I t-thought about you, my prince.”
He hums, gently setting your arm back to your side. You take a swift moment to observe him– he still had bags beneath his eyes and his lips were cracked as ever, his skin paler than usual, and droopy lids. Tufts of wheat-colored hair stood at odd angles at the back of his head, a telltale sign of him tossing and turning in his bed for only god knows how long.
“Are you being honest, my princess?” He asks. “You thought about me?”
“Yes, my liege.” you respond, dipping your head in a shallow bow. “I found trouble with falling asleep and you came to mind and I wondered if you were also having trouble falling asleep.”
“I am.” He curtly says. “I am and have been finding trouble sleeping. I… I find it warming that you would think about my well-being.”
“You, my prince, are human just like the rest of us. The worst spares no one,” you respond with a soft smile. “Would you like me to accompany you until you fall asleep?”
A look of surprise crosses his face and you wish you never offered that in the first place, appearing desperate in front of the man you must impress.
“Yes,” he quietly says as he opens his door wider for you. “I would love that.”
It’s your turn to be surprised yet you nod and cross the threshold of his chambers for the first time; the walls were covered in gray wallpaper, meticulously embossed with dainty damask patterns in gold leaf. The ceiling was painted with a mural of a soft sky with hues of some pink and light blue along with clouds of different appearances, some looked like cotton while others looked like feathers. The baseboards and crown molding of his room were all sculpted and painted gold as well, similar to his bed frame with an impressive canopy that loomed over. His sheets were made of dark gray silk with subtle damask embroidery, as well. A magnificent chandelier crafted in the form of a chimera hung overhead, decorated with diamonds and sapphires. His room is just as breathtaking as he is, his space a reflection of his personality. You let go of a breath you didn’t know you held, head craned towards the heavens to admire the artwork above you. If you thought your room was grand, his was even more so.
“I see that you seem to like the mural on my ceiling,” he observes.
“Yes, I do. It is quite the beauty,” you softly smile. “I did not expect you to have such a treasure like this confined in your quarters, my prince.”
He grins, walking behind you as he observes your impressed face. When visitors take a peek into his room, the sole thing they would consider as a treasure is his chandelier. He expected you to do the same but instead opted for the soft pink and light blue view suspended above your head.
“I am glad to know that you still recognize the colors despite a tiny sliver of the moon beaming in. Consider me impressed.”
You grin, giving yourself a small pat to the shoulder when Leon isn’t looking your way. “So, my princess, shall we retire for the evening?”
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You and Leon lay on opposite sides of the bed, both of you sleeping on your backs. His eyes are shut, brows furrowed while you try not to fall asleep just yet, keeping your gaze trained on the canopy above. Every now and then, you tilt your head to steal glances and take in the finer details of his face– the slope of his nose, the permanent furrow of his eyebrows, and his long lashes. Before you can help it, a giddy smile manifests itself in your lips the longer you stare at him.
“You are staring at me, dear princess.”
Your eyes widen, snapping your head to face the opposite side as you shut your eyes and tense your body. Your ears pick up a heavenly sound, his laugh, beside you and you turn to face him, confused. “What amuses you, prince?”
“What amuses me,” he faces you. “Is how I am utterly wrapped around your delicate finger, my dearest princess. You have me wrapped around the same delicate finger you used to carefully take apart the walls I built around my heart yet I do not wish to take action against that.”
Your cheeks burn beet red, heart challenging even the fastest racehorses that Leon’s father owns. You nod, a silent acknowledgement of his flattery for you cannot properly conjure the words to say to react to that.
“It makes me nervous that our wedding is to take place soon,” you speak up. “I am not sure if I will be the princess the people will need, if I can serve you properly. There are certain things that I am not ready for.”
You feel Leon’s finger experimentally brush against your knuckle underneath the duvet, careful so as not to cross a boundary that you’re not ready for yet. Returning the same gentle brush of a finger, you slowly link fingers with him as your heart explodes in the most vibrant colors inside your ribcage.
“I am certain that you will treat the people with utmost respect and kindness, my princess, worry not. As for serving me, your presence alone is a service beyond measure. I do not ask for more.”
You giggle, a melody Leon looks forward to hearing.
“Thank you. How about you, my prince? Are you nervous?”
“Very much so, we both have a lot to bear on our shoulders with this union. I must admit, that is one of the few reasons I have been lying wide awake almost each night. I am sorry that even you are disturbed.”
“No, my prince. I am not disturbed at all– far from it, actually.”
“We tend to apologize frequently,” Leon observes. “Another thing we share in common.”
“We’ll add another trait that we share in common soon,” you beam.
“Hm? What is it?”
“Our surnames. We will share them soon.”
Leon’s eyes widen, warmth travelling from his cheeks towards the tips of his ears. He quickly tilts his head to the side, away from your eyes, and lets out a wide grin. He must admit, you got him there.
“As anxious as I am, a part of me cannot wait.”
“I believe we share the same sentiment.”
Slowly and carefully, you tilt your body and inch a little closer to Leon. His positive reception to your presence is taking a toll on you, glowing with confidence and that confidence leads you to be a little more forward with your actions.
“A little closer, dearest.” He says, moving a little closer to you. “You are not quite near enough, in my opinion.”
After a little more shuffling and getting cozy, you two finally settle into a position that is comfortable and fall asleep together with his arm wrapped around you and your arm slung around his chest.
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NOTE - I feel so old rn coz yesterday, only my right knee was the one hurting... now it's both knees + my back 💀 Joints cracking at every movement too so now I've been drinking milk... why? I think my bones need the extra calcium <3 Anyways, sorry yall for this mid ass fic 😭 My brain stopped working mid-writing but for some reason I was still determined to finish this so.... yeah :') I decided to do some cleaning before posting this and I came across a bunch of old school records from when I was younger (think 6th grade and lower) and bruhh... I WAS SO STUPID?!?!?! LIKE I STRUGGLED WITH SPELLING AND IDIOMS?? HUH???? I NEVER KNEW THAT??? I always thought I understood idioms well so ion know what the fuck happened... like I looked at schoolwork that involved idioms and I did get good scores, perfect even, but for some reason the comments on my OLSAT performance then said that I was below average when it came to spelling and idiomatic expression understanding so 😭😭😭 No clue mates.......... Anyways, that's all and thank you for reading my fics!!!!!!!!! I <3333 UUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The hanging jewels divider was made by @mikeykuns , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).
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i23kazu · 1 year
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GENSHIN MEN & DOING CUTE AUTUMN THINGS .
characters. zhongli diluc kaeya childe neuvillette alhaitham kaveh x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. happy almost october. which means happy almost christmas | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D
zhongli
autumn, with zhongli, is sitting around a bonfire together. his hands are tightly wrapped around you, with you leaning against his shoulder – liyue never had seasons like these, so experiences like these came far and few. it was lovely all the same, sitting nestled in the leaves with you.
diluc
autumn, with diluc, is helping him with the autumn harvest. carts of grapes, pumpkins, cantaloupes, tomatoes, and more were filled to the brim, with two satisfied smiles on your faces after as he pushed the cart back to the manor. a sweet tradition, always ending with a glass of the harvest's finest wine at the end of the day.
kaeya
autumn, with kaeya, is always filled with baking and your household smelling like the grand mixture of cinnamon, butter and nutmeg. pumpkin pie, apple pie, cinnamon rolls, pecan bars, apple crisps and so many more left no more room for actual eating at the kitchen counters – time to host another soirée!
childe
autumn, with childe, is always competing to gather the biggest pile of leaves outside to jump into, within the coziness of your backyard. some years, the children eagerly watched the you go against each other, only for childe to tackle you into your pile of leaves. you always forgive him, though – you can't stay mad at your favourite ginger.
neuvillette
autumn, with neuvillette, is taking a stroll through the cold gardens of fontaine. the air seems to whisper and flitter about, and the melusines skip around as happily as ever. neuvillette forgets about all his worries the moment his hand slips in yours so perfectly – it seems as if your hand was made exactly for his.
alhaitham
autumn, with alhaitham, is booking an isolated cabin in the woods – and spending your most favourite two weeks of the year there. the air is sweetened with the scent of cinnamon biscuits and browned butter. you and alhaitham finally get to take a breath away from the bustle of sumeru city, and curl up within each other to read and live.
kaveh
autumn, with kaveh, is booking every single haunted house and maze you can find on the sumeru websites. you laugh as you watch your boyfriend's face turn from pleasantness to a horror-filled shock, the most high-pitched squealing and shrieking you've ever heard extract out of his body when the jumpscares start. he may have grabbed your hand too tightly, and now there's a red mark.
taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @diorlumx @vennnnn-diagram @ryuryuryuyurboat @yuminako (send ask to be added to taglist)
reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this, consider dropping me a follow as well :-)
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Reach for me in the dark (and I will always take your hand)
carry me slowly, my sunlight (these colours, they fade for you only) - series masterlist here
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pairing: damian wayne x reader (gender neutral)
length: 1.7k
genre: fluff, hurt/comfort
warnings:  reader and damian experiencing positive emotion for the first time, they're in loooove and they're bad at it
a/n: alright alright back again
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The streets of Gotham, you begin to realize, are similar to home in all the wrong ways. Shadows creeping around corners, the glint of a knife blade and the click of a gun echoing through the alleyways, a maze of winding passages that lead you deeper, deeper, down until you're lost. You'd heard Damian speak of the city before, about the life in it, the thrumming heartbeat that leads him further in.
Now, though, experiencing it on your own, it's something else entirely. Gotham is just like home in all the right ways - in the way that it twists around you and ties you there, making sure you never leave. Damian loves this city, has grown to look down on it with fondness. Every night that you join him for patrol, you find yourself getting a bit closer to feeling the same way.
On this particular night, you're separated from him, the two of you splitting up to sniff out a trail of clues, to hunt down a gaggle of inexperienced, sloppy criminals. It's easy work, nights like this - the two of you have honed your skills far beyond this. It had confused you, then, when he'd gripped your face between his hands and let his forehead thump against yours, asking you to promise to be careful - to return to him safely.
It had confused you because… hadn't you always? And since when did Damian Al Ghul worry about the safety of others, the security of the fighters around him? Did he think you were incapable? Yes, these streets are not your own yet, but the heft of your sword in your palm is the same as it always was, the sturdiness of your steps reliable and constant. Damian should know, by now, that you don't have to be careful - that the two of you have already moved beyond that. 
Perhaps it was because you were so deep in thought, mulling over everything that had changed between the two of you, that you didn't notice the flicker of a moving shadow, the movement ahead of you until the gun was already raised and fired. Your instincts, thankfully, aren't so frazzled as your mind and your sword knows how to block a bullet even in this strange place. 
By the time you're bracing yourself to retaliate, though, Robin himself has already swooped in, slamming a knee into the chest of your assailant hard enough to knock him over. You click your tongue disapprovingly and move forward as Robin incapacitates the man swiftly, making sure he's unconscious and cuffing his hands behind his back.
"There was no reason for you to step in," you begin to say. "You weren't even supposed to be here. We said we'd go different directions and -" But anything you were planning on saying after that is knocked out of your chest as Robin moves to you quickly, crushing you against him in a hug as he wraps his arms around you, one tight around your waist and the other cupping the back of your head so that your face is planted in his chest.
It's… a shock, to say the least. Damian is reserved, even now, with his displays of affection, preferring to keep them away from prying eyes and in the safety and privacy of the Manor. You're not sure what's happening so you just… let it happen, wrapping your arms around his waist and relaxing against him.
"Don't ever do that again," he says breathlessly, his lips pressed against the crown of your head. 
"What? Don't, Dam - Robin, what are you talking about?" You do pull back then, just enough to look at him, cupping his face in your hands so that you can stare into his mask. You can't see his eyes beyond it, but you don't need to to know the wild look in them, the panic and aggression that seeps into them. "Robin," you say again - firmly, this time. "Talk to me."
"You need to learn how to dodge," is all he offers in response.
"What?"
"You can't block every bullet like that. You need to learn to dodge them."
"Is… that what you're upset about?" You ask tentatively, still staring at him, searching his masked face for any sort of clue. You're used to this, thankfully, to hidden faces and hushed whispers, to the two of you dancing around the truth and holding back what you mean. "Are you… worried about me?"
Robin says nothing, but his grip on you tightens and his gaze flickers to the criminal still laying unconscious behind the two of you.
"You don't have to be - you shouldn't be," you continue. "Nothing's changed. We still -" But Damian pulls away from you then, speaking into his earpiece as he stares at you.
"Oracle? I need you to send someone here. I need… some cleanup. And someone to cover us for the rest of the night. Yes, both of us. We're going back to the Cave… No, it's nothing, don't - don't check the security footage, just…" You can hear it through your own earpiece, too, of course, Oracle having a bit too much fun with teasing Damian before she agrees. 
Red Robin cuts in with a, "yea, yea, I'm on my way Rob, you two go home and sort it out." That's all it really takes for Robin to grab you by the hand, pulling you with him back towards the Cave.
The journey back is… silent. Startingly so. It's not uncommon for the two of you to share silence, but this feels different - this feels charged, like there's a tension in the air so dense that you can almost taste it. It's not until you're back in the safety of the Cave that Damian speaks again, peeling off his mask and watching as you do the same.
"I won't lose you," is all he says. You cock your head to the side as you look at him.
"You… won't, Damian. I don't know why you think you will."
"Because you're reckless and it's going to get you killed." Behind you, Bruce pauses his typing on the Batcomputer, a tap on his shoulder from Alfred and a nod to the exit leading him to get up quietly, throwing a look of concern over his shoulder as he gives the two of you a moment of privacy. You cross your arms and give Damian a hard look.
"I am not reckless. I know what I'm capable of. You've never before shown any kind of issue with my skill." Damian balls his hands into fists as he listens, that tension that you once felt growing even more, crackling like static between the two of you.
"I'm asking you not to take any more hits. You don't need to withstand every moment of violence, you just have to avoid them," he says calmly, a strained levelness in his voice. Your frown deepens at his words, though.
"Are we not equal anymore? Do you not… trust me anymore? Trust that I can take these kinds of hits?" There's a sort of smallness in you now, at the thought that Damian doesn't think you're as sturdy as you once were - that, now, when he can finally lean on you, he doesn't seem to think you're worth leaning on anymore. But he sighs at your words, stepping forward as he tugs the gloves off of his hands impatiently so that he can cup your cheeks in his palms once more, letting you both feel skin on skin. As he brushes his thumbs over the skin under your eyes softly, he looks at you, and you feel a bit guilty when you're surprised that there's nothing but love, nothing but adoration in his gaze.
"My love, there is no one that I trust the way that I trust you. But there is also no one that I need the way that I need you." Damian speaks gently, his voice soft in that way that you know is reserved only for you. "This is no longer a life where you have to brace for every impact. You're allowed to step out of the path of destruction. You're allowed to walk away from danger."
You sigh at his words, leaning forward to let your forehead thump against his chest as his arms wrap around you, one of his hands going up to the back of your head once more to stroke through your hair. You let your hands grab fistfuls of his Robin uniform as he rests his chin on the top of your head, The R insignia staring down at you from his chest, a beacon of something more than the two of you, more than the violence of your survival.
"I've just finally got you back, beloved," Damian continues quietly. "I will not lose you now, not again."
"You won't, Damian," you assure, and there's a bit more conviction in it this time, a bit more assuredness as you pull back to look up at him. "There is no grave that could keep me from you, no fate that could take me away." Damian closes his eyes at that, tilting his head back for a moment as if to let your words sink further in, to engrave them into his soul and keep them there.
"You will be more careful," he says firmly as he looks back down at you. "And you will call for me when you need help."
"And when you need help?" You say back stubbornly. "What will you do then?"
"Then, my love, I will call for you - as I always have. That is inevitable, you should know… that it will always be you I reach for in the dark." You huff at his words, a weak distraction from the heat in your face as you bury yourself back against his chest, listening to his heartbeat thump against your ear.
"Fine then," you say firmly. "Reach for me. I will take your hand."
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brucewaynehater101 · 4 months
Text
TW: mentions death, blood
Here is the angst some of you requested. Let me know if I need to add triggers
He isn't going to make it to eighteen. This is a fact. Tim knows, with certainty, that he isn't going to survive that long.
Being a vigilante means that Tim's life expectancy is drastically reduced. He went from possibly dying of old age as the CEO of Drake Industries to becoming a casualty of The Mission. Tim knows the odds. Dick surviving to adulthood is the outlier, not the standard.
So, Tim knows he is going to die within the next few years. Either his blood is going to stain his yellow cape, or Timothy Drake will meet his tragic end in Gotham's streets. This is indisputable.
He had assumed, though, that he would last at least a year as Robin.
He thought Bruce would've been safe.
Tim had spent so long cultivating his plans and carefully navigating his interactions with Bruce. He pushed and pulled Dick, Barbara, Alfred, and some JL members into Bruce's social support. He helped mend their issues, subtly insisted Bruce upgrades his communication skills, and paved the way for a stronger bond.
He denied invitations to spend the night at Wayne Manor, he feigned being full at requests for dinner, and had ducked away from hair ruffles and shoulder pats. He maintained a childlike gaze, a helpful countenance, and a polite business mask.
In the few months Tim has been Robin, he has worked tirelessly to ensure Bruce would have support when Tim inevitably died. He maintained their mutual professional distance to minimize the hurt his death would cause the Waynes. He had designed everything to his best abilities. Tim is going to die, but he would help Bruce before then.
Bruce wasn't supposed to die with him.
Batman and Robin were trapped in the sewers after a cave-in. Apparently, Killer Croc, wrestling, and unsteady foundations were a recipe for a severely concussed Bat and a definitely not panicking Bird.
It could be hours before the two were found deep beneath Gotham's surface. Hours of someone scouring their last known whereabouts for clues before traversing the maze the city uses for their sewage. It could be hours before anyone even noticed their disappearance. Between Bruce's distress signal being crushed in the fight, Tim's being lost in the scuffle, and them being miles underground, this significantly hindered their ability to call for aid.
It might take days before Batman and Robin are unearthed.
From the way the rubble occasionally groaned and trembled, they didn't have that.
Bruce is physically present, his head is cushioned on Tim's lap, but the man's eyes are foggy. He keeps drifting into unconscious before Robin wakes him up again. Each time the man's eyes flutter shut, Tim fears that would be the last time.
It's fine. Tim's okay. Overall, the kid only has bruises on his skin and a few shallow cuts. He might be panicking, but he's physically okay.
Bruce, on the other hand, has a head wound that's sluggishly bleeding into his eyes and dripping down his face. His ribs are cracked from when the man tried to protect Robin from the tunnel collapsing.
Tim can hardly keep his panic at bay when the man starts to doze again. His hand lightly pats Bruce's cheek as he begs the man to open his eyes.
"Hey, B. You're gonna be alright." Tim's voice trembles slightly, but Bruce is too out of it to notice. "It's not going to be much longer. You have to hold on."
Bruce closes his eyes again.
"Bruce. Keep your eyes open."
At the command, the man struggles to pry his eyelids apart. Glassy light blue eyes focus in Tim's general direction. There's an emotion of the man's face that the teen has never seen before.
"We could..." Bruce's voice strains with the effort to speak. Still, he continues to rasp out, "Tomorrow. We could go to the library."
Although it is idiotic to hope, a part of Tim becomes elated at those words. The entire time Tim's been Robin, Bruce has kept him at a distance. They were coworkers, and Tim was necessary, not wanted. The teen could handle curt responses, long silences, and hasty dismissals. At least the man was frank with his expectations and personal boundaries. He never gave false promises or a fake welcome. Bruce was honest with Tim.
If they made it out of there, the man would keep his promise. The two of them could spend time together as Bruce and Tim, not Batman and Robin.
A soft smile appears as Tim regards his mentor. "I'd like that, B."
Bruce's face becomes fond, and his hazy eyes peer up at Tim. "I am glad you're here with me, Jay."
Tim isn't Bruce's son. He isn't the boy whose ghost drapes itself over the shoulders of his grieving father. He isn't a brawler when he fights, and he prefers sci-fi over literary masterpieces.
Tim has two parents. They hardly answer the phone and are gone for months on end, but they exist. They love Tim, in their own distant way.
Tim knows his name is Timothy Jackson Drake and not Jason Peter Todd.
Yet, in the washed-out illumination of an emergency flashlight, the kid faintly beams at Bruce.
"I'll always be here, Dad."
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