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marvolocore-library · 10 days
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I haven’t used this blog in quite a while, but if you want to see my writing growth go check out my new fanfic/writeblr blog @spiritnook, all my current stuff is on my AO3 which is linked in my pinned post
happy readings ♡
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marvolocore-library · 2 years
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I Mourned for You. - B.M. x GN!Reader
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Req: Yes | Wc: ≈1.5k
Requested By @aquananner24: "Bruno and the reader were close before he vanished. They were best friends, but nothing past that. (Though both liked each other, neither ever brought up those feelings.) So when Bruno finally returns the reader is /pissed/. She's not talking to him. She's so relieved that he's back and safe and alive, but for the past decade she genuinely thought he was dead or something since everyone thought he'd left Encanto altogether and the mountains surrounding Encanto were so difficult to cross. She legit thought he was dead. After she realized he wouldn't be coming back she MOURNED him, and to make it worse he KNEW she thought he was dead and he KNEW how much pain she was in because he was living in the FUCKING WALLS this whole time. It's not like she stopped associating with the Madrigal family after he vanished. She was still good friends with his sisters. So after a few days, Bruno goes over to her house to try and talk with her. After all, it's been a decade, surely he'd miss his best friend. It turns into an argument and she yells at him with tears in her eyes 'I would've followed you to the fucking ends of the earth because I loved you and you decide to just up and leave without so much as a goodbye!? Not even a letter!?? How sick is that!? I loved you and you broke my heart Bruno!" and that's how Bruno finds out she loved him, and that she still does love him." (They originally asked for a Fem reader but we worked it out to a GN reader)
Pair: Bruno Madrigal x Gender Neutral Reader; they/them
Fandom: Encanto (2021)
Synopsis: After he came back, you didn't know what to think. The past years (that you've refused to keep track of) were just you and your grief (plus your pet).
Warning(s): Angst with a happy ending, mentions of Grief/Grieving
Author's Notes: Usually I don't write Gender Neutral readers, but I'll make an exception just this once :) xoxo SORRY IF THIS WASN'T AS LONG AS YOU'D LIKE I didn't have any more ideas so I just put as much as I could into it :sob: also I think this should have been posted sooner I'm so sorry. wrote this listening to walls could talk by Hasley.
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When the Casita was rebuilt, the gift was saved, and an old Madrigal was returned and safe, everyone was in pure and undying bliss. Except for you. You were known as the closest person to the Madrigals, almost considered family. Well, you grew an inch apart when Bruno left you. You both were inseparable, best friends, and were both silently pining to be together.
When you learned he had been living in the walls amongst the rats, you were in inner turmoil. You felt so powerful and so weak at one time, you felt unbelievably cheated.
So when Bruno saw you pacing up to him angrily, he knew he had screwed up. You had flames spewing from your eye's sockets, your fists paled when you clenched them, your figure tense. It was all so ambiguous to you, why he never made any contact with you when he went in hiding. Didn't say bye, you'd thought he died. You mourned for hours in a day. You held a little funeral for him in your backyard, just you and your [dog/cat/pet of choice]. Dressed in a black [dress/tux/formal clothing], holding vibrant green flowers, you even played a dirge on your piano whenever you felt sober of his laughter, his touch.
You had angry hot tears cascading your cheeks, you felt so on edge like you were seeing a ghost. A distant memory comes back to life. You thought of every time you helped Julieta or Pepa, knowing that your believed-to-be-dead best friend was eavesdropping through the walls.
"What in the world, Bruno!" You yelled at him. The sun was setting and nobody was around. Your shoes clamped onto the dirty ground that was Casita's brick floors. Your hands shoved into his chest a bit as you stared into his eyes.
"[Name]! I've missed so much, I'm so-" He was cut off by you shushing him. You would have slapped him, but you had your morals.
"You better be fucking sorry," you growled, your hand snatching his sun-kissed one. "I mourned for you, every day! You left without anything!"
You sobbed, your free hand wiping your eyes.
"No note, no nothing! Not even a goodbye! I would have followed you to the ends of the damned earth, Bruno! Do you realize how sick that is?" Your face was burning. Bruno was speechless, unable to say a single word. "Do you?"
"Now I do."
"You should have realized that years ago!" You choked on your words, hiccuping in between sentences. "I loved you Bruno, and you left my heart in pieces!"
His eyes were wide, mouth forming a small O. His eyebrows were furrowed with displeasure.
"I wrote a song for you, I played it on the piano at the funeral I had for you in my backyard!" You yelled. "I tried climbing the mountains to search for you." This is when you let go of his sweaty hand and clenched both of your hands onto his green poncho.
"[Name]." His lips curled, eyes beginning to water. "I'm sorry. I'm so incredibly sorry."
He shivered, blinking, and then sighed softly. "I love you. I loved you then, I love you now. I'm so sorry. You may never forgive me, and I understand why." He pulled you into a quick embrace, then you both fell apart, his hands traced paths onto your arms before falling next to him. "Words can't tell you how sorry I am."
You began to cry harder at his words, your hands wiping them away as quickly as they came falling down. "I will have to learn to forgive, but I think I still. . . love you." Your jaw was sore as you spoke the words, increasing the gap between you. "Sorry but I have to think." He nodded as you turned and rushed away, your mind dwelling on your past.
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"Come on [Name], hurry up!" Bruno called you. Both of you were about nine or ten at the time. Julieta was making snacks with Abuela that morning and you really wanted to snag a frosted polvorón from them.
You both entered the Casita, shoulder to shoulder as you passed the threshold. The smell of baking bread and sugar wafted around you both. You followed the aroma to its source, the kitchen. Abuela was pulling a tray of Spanish shortbread from the gas stove, and Julieta was putting the homemade whipped frosting on each of the polvoróns. You and Bruno gave each other a mischievous look as you both strode towards Julieta.
"Hola, Julieta!" You both greeted her at the same time, she looked down from the stool she was perched upon with a knife laced with frosting dangling over about two baker dozens of the treats.
"I know what you want, but you will just have to wait!" She huffed, continuing to trace the shortbread with the sugary topping.
"Please? Just one, Bruno 'an I will split it!" You practically begged, giving her the most puppy-like face you could have mustered up.
She growled, "fine, but only one!" Abuela set a tray down next to her and started moving the fresh ones in front of Julieta to be lathered.
Both you and Bruno high-fived in success, your faces cheery and worry-free. Julieta grumbled as she handed you a polvorón, her eyes in leering slits.
You and Bruno ran over to the table, breaking the treat into two. You both happily munched on your own halves without questions. You felt a sudden wave of relish as the clump of bread and sugar went down your esophagus.
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You smiled at the memory, you were in front of your house now. The sun was now beyond your sight, its original creamy waves of oranges and pinks were now a starry canvas of deep ocean blues and dark purples. Your home was blatantly uneventful, wind wooshing into your ear causing natural static. You grabbed the knob, turning it open and turning. You entered the home, its peaceful quietness filled your system with slack. You began to light your gaslamps, walking around your small home without worry. A paper was set coldly on your counter, untouched for quite a while. It had scribbled musical notes on it. You reached for it, your fingertips contacting the thin layer of dust that lived upon its surface. It sparked something in your brain.
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Your hands crumpled another paper, throwing it behind you into the already-large pile. You couldn't figure out what to do for your song. Your song for him, that you would lavishly play on your old deep brown piano.
You just gave up with trying, doing what your feelings told you to do. You thought, he could see the future. That's ominous, you guessed, scribbling something on the paper.
Something deep but with a mellow melody, an angelic tone that followed a deep pounding track of notes. As every note was drawn out on the whitish paper, your clutch tightened on the old pencil. Every second of you writing out the notes, the slower you accepted that he was dead. There was nothing to do, nothing anybody could do. You had finally accepted he was no longer with you that day.
Once the paper was written out, you played the notes carefully—making any needed changes to the chords. The changes that you made to the music, the simplest ones as well, were all of his flaws. You made a deep meaning with the song, all of the rewrites and the modifications were to match up to a perfect outcome. That outcome, behind the flaws and strengths, was Bruno. A musical piece to reflect on the man you had inevitably fallen in love with.
Coming back from the past, you were now sitting down. The piece lay in front of you as your hands cradled your head. Some tears ran down your arms and onto the tables, some even seeped into the bottom edge of the composition.
A series of low knocks came from the door, soft and kind. You moved from the table, your hands pushing off from the wooden table. You steadied yourself to the door and churned the doorknob.
It was Bruno. His once knotty hair brushed a bit to look more formal–but still wore that Bruno effect. His poncho looked cleaner than it was earlier, the green was a shade more vibrant too.
He looked at you with sorrowful eyes, face quivering.
"IthinkIloveyoustill."
"What?" He asked, an eyebrow arched.
"I think—think—I still love you." You said more sternly.
He swayed for a second, before wrapping his arms around your waist and embracing you, passion sparked between both of your warm bodies. "Is this okay?" He asked. You nodded before he pecked you on the cheek and smiled.
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marvolocore-library · 2 years
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Hello, I’m the anon that requested the Ian x superhero reader idea, I just would like to say that I absolutely love your idea of the reader being a harpie and his personality, it’s so good! I love it so much! I just want to say that, I’m very sorry I didn’t respond earlier
omg thanks im glad you like it!! i wasnt sure so im grateful you said this :]
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marvolocore-library · 2 years
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If it’s okay if I could request, a plot based idea for an Ian x reader fic, where the reader is a type of superhero, who saves Ian from falling (if it’s too much to write I understand)
YES! I love this idea, also i hope you dont mind the reader being a harpy? I thought that'd be a cool idea :] He'd be all cool w/ his little feather arms, kind of a cocky personality? probably expects people to just die for his heroic achievements. Probably like really soft once you get to know him, and such a soft spot for Ian ofc.
I'll get it written after I complete my other submission! :D
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marvolocore-library · 2 years
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Por qué - B.M. x Male!Reader Drabble
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Req: No | Wc: ≈750
Pair: Bruno Madrigal x Male Reader; he/him
Fandom: Encanto (2021)
Synopsis: During Antonio Madrigal's gift ceremony, a man stumbles upon a secret opening in the wall hidden by a painting. When exploring the tunnel he finds a missing Madrigal.
Warning(s): None (Feel free to add any through my request box, my direct messages, or comment!)
Author's Notes: The reader can speak Spanish (sorry if I get something wrong in advance). Sorry for it being so short, I'm lacking creativity right now. This can be read as Gender Neutral for there aren't any gender indications.
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Upbeat music was playing, people were dancing, and individuals were drinking You had begun to have a small headache as you roamed the building, a red-purple drink sloshed around in a cup as you wandered down halls and into rooms. All you had wanted was a place of peace and solitude just so you can unwind.
You had chatted and spoken to many different people throughout the celebration. Mostly neighbors that we're asking how you were, how [Family Member] was, or just saying hi.
"Hey, [Name]." A feminine voice called, your head bent. It was Pepa, she was walking towards you wearing her traditional warm colors. Her sun earrings bobbed back and forth as she strode in your direction.
"¡Ah, Hola Pepa!" You exclaimed, going in for an embrace which she had returned.
"[Name], how have you been?" She asked, stepping back from the hug.
"Great, you?" You said, grinning.
"Good, I haven't seen you in quite a while! Félix, come here!" She yelled. A kind-looking dark-skinned Latino came forth from the buzzing crowd he had a nicely knitted yellow sweater, the sweater had red etchings on it.
"Hola, Félix," you said, outstretching my hand for him to shake. He gleefully took it and gave it a heartfelt shake.
"[Name]! I haven't seen you since forever!" He beamed.
You grinned back, "I know, we have some catching up to do!"
You chatted for a while before they had left off to go back to talk to Julieta. You left off again, walking down an upstairs hallway. The walls had paintings or photos hung on them, of the family mostly. You examined every other one, seeing their magnificently embroidered details.
Passing Abuela's room there were individual photos of each Madrigal. After walking and examining a bit more, you had stumbled upon a 'lose' painting. There were small bronzy colored hinges similar to a door and it gave a creak when opening. A hole in the wall was evident, but where it lead was a secret you had yet to know. It was just the perfect size for you to be able to clamber in, so you squeezed yourself into the gap and lead yourself down a narrow passage. Vaulting over obstacles and mounting up old wooden stairs. Honestly, you had no clue in the world you were following through with this. It felt like destiny and you had nothing better to do except mope around the Madrigal's Casita.
The walls were creased and seemed almost ancient with dust. Grime and muck were tucked in crevices, trailed up the walls, and spotted around the floor. You could hear the passing of rats, their small limbs clattering softly against the wooden floor. Cobwebs hung like tapestries along the wooden inner wall.
Letting urges lead you to where you had unconsciously wanted to go, you ended up at a door. After making prints in dust and rat feces with your sandals. After climbing through a hidden passage. After pouting around a hearty celebration, something told you to be where you stood–before a plain wood-plank door.
Noticing the light that oozed through the plank's spaces, you gave a strict but subtle knock. You could hear (surprised) shuffling and a hushed bawl behind the door, and then silence. You knocked again, silence. Deciding that you had nothing better to do, you invited yourself into the room.
It was mostly a mess, with key things being a table and a minuscule theater in front of an armchair. Then there was the small man standing in the corner with about chin-length curly black hair with barely noticeable grey streaks flowing randomly, he wore a green poncho with hourglass designs running down the sides. You looked quite shocked to see Bruno Madrigal, infamously known throughout the town cowering in a corner. I took you a minute to regain your composure and endeavor to be dominant in conversation–and not freak out.
He chuckled, wobbling profusely to stand up. He knocked his hip into a table and groaned before recollecting himself. “Eh, hello?” He said, “I don’t think you’re supposed to be here.”
"And why not?” Your eyebrow arched, eyes glinting at the man in front of you with curiosity. The man just kind of hobbled and looked away. “¿Por qué?”
"Because. . .”
You hummed, amused.
"Because this is my home and you’re trespassing."
You stifled a small laugh. "Alright. . ." You scanned him. ". .Señor Bruno. I’ll leave."
As you turned away from the door, he spoke up. “Wait!”
”Yes?” You mused, turning your head in his direction.
”Could you just stay for a bit? It’s kinda lonely and I don’t think you have many things to look forward to if you found me.” He said, eyes pleading.
”Alright, but just for a few minutes.”
”Thank you.”
Minutes turned into hours. . .
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marvolocore-library · 2 years
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Cardiac Arrest - Movie! E.O x M.Reader
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Req: No | Wc: ≈2.5k
Pair: Movie! Enoch O'Conner x Cardiokinetic! Male! Reader; he/him
Fandom: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (2016)
About: Enoch meets a mysterious peculiar that entered Miss Peregrine's loop after his own loop was raided. The peculiar is suddenly shaken awake by a curious Enoch O'Conner. . .
Warning(s): Organs; Stopping heart from functioning; Minor character death; multiple mentions of grief/grieving; mentions of death; self-hate; vulgar language
Author's Notes: When I thought of this idea, I was in genuine love. I love this concept so much, so I thought, how could I NOT write it? Enoch's kinda OOC but not really, just mainly curiosity and piqued interest in something. There will probably be a sequel.
This may be read as platonic, but this rears towards romantic! Also, my writing is kind of crap in the beginning, apologies! This was originally for my old account before moving.
Wattpad Link to this story
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Sweat beaded at your temple. You ran as fast as your legs could possibly take you, your heart's beat pounded in your ears. Sand coursed itself in between your toes. Your satchel (which contained your oxford shoes and socks) bounced behind you, resting above the hindside of your rolled-sleeve button-up shirt. Your dark-grey trousers - which were tucked over your shirt and held up by brown suspenders - began to feel further uncomfortable as you ran farther down the ocean's shore. Of course, you would step on the occasional shell and you would let out a faint, ouch.
It was 1956, your loop was gone, and the nearest hiding place was Cairnholm, Wales. Where Miss Peregrine's loop lay virgin.
It was the only possible loop you could hide in, your previous one had been raided by the monstrosities and you were devastated - for the most part.
If you were something other than devastated, you were deeply disturbed. And by disturbed, I mean in grief.
All of your friends, your family, had died. All their bodies lay eye-eaten and to-be-rotten. You had watched as the monster's shadows staggered away, tentacles retreating into the threshold of shark teeth.
You switched your trail to a mucked path that lead into the bog that held the contents of refuge. Still running but at a slower pace.
As you run further into the wetland, trees began popping up every so often, until a canopy of trees blocked the sun from physical view until it led up to a rigged cavern. Halting to a stop, you rested your hand on your chest and began to regulate your heartbeat - it was part of being cardiokinetic.
You walked up to the cairn's entrance. Resting your hand upon the stone archway and peering inside. It was dark and otherwise quiet besides the few drops of water that formed from the stalactites.
You entered the cairn, careful to avoid tripping over pebbles.
You travel to the opposite end of the arch, leading you to a sun-filled sky.
You invited yourself to run to where the house was located, even if that meant passing another canopy-covered-bog.
You walked up to the house's front patio and gave a deliberate knock. Moments later, you could hear the clacking of a heel coming toward's the door.
The door swung open, and you were met face-to-face with a charming woman. Her jet-black hair was put in a unique updo, with streaks of violet-blue. She wore a black-collared jacket that appeared almost leathery, and her eyes were outlined lightly with black eyeliner.
"Oh, you must be one of Miss Starlings'." She eyed you up and down, "Ah, yes. You surely look like one of hers. Is there anybody else with you?"
"No, ma'am. Just me." You said solemnly. Your eyes drifted to the floor before reconnecting with the Headmistress'.
She frowned, letting out a mournful grunt.
"Anyways," she piped. "What was your name?"
"[Name]," I chewed the side of my cheek, offering my hand.
She took it and gave a vigorous shake before letting go, "well, we should bet getting you settled now." I just nodded in return, following her as she hobbled up the flights of stairs.
She lead you to an ornamented room. A big bed lay simply in the corner and the walls were racked with bare shelves.
"This is where you'll be staying," she said, removing her pipe. "I'll introduce you to the rest at supper." She parted her lips and smoked on her pipe.
"One question," you speculated. "When is dinner."
She smiled, "five o'clock. Don't be late."
You gave a simple nod as she departed from your presence. Throwing your satchel onto the bed and unbuttoning three of your buttons that ran down the front-center of your collared shirt. You seated yourself on the mattress next to your bag.
It felt nice to relax, to unwind after everything that's happened in the past few days. If anything still lingered on your mind, it was of your friends. Susie, Carlos, Logan, even Piper. Gee, you missed the way Piper would fly into your room with her swan wings and start howling on the ways you messed up in life - at three in the morning. You laughed a bit before your face went poker and your mouth dipped at its edges.
Gee, you missed everything Barron ruined. If only you could have made their hearts stop. Did they even have hearts? Cause they sure seemed heartless.
A heartless monster is all Barron will ever be.
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You walked down the stairs and entered the dining room. It was but empty, except for a peaceful Miss Peregrine stood waiting at the entranceway. You fumbled with your now-clean clothes.
"[Name], your early. That's quite perfect, actually." She smiled endearingly. "Come, sit."
You both moved to grab a chair at the long table. You had noticed that she was currently pipe-less.
"Nobody currently knows of your presence here, today." She told. "So do expect it to be a bit of a shock to the others as they sit down with us."
You nodded, "I wouldn't expect any different."
The headmistress moved her hand into her pocket and slid out a black pocket watch. "They should be here any second now. . ."
I watched curiously, then the front door opened and low murmuring came from the entrance hall. Some heavy steps came trampling down the staircase as a group of children - of all ages - barged into the room.
They watched beady-eyed and curious at your figure. They whispered among themselves as a visibly adorned one came towards you with an outstretched hand.
"Hullo," He greeted, "I'm Horace, it's a pleasure." You shook his hand.
"Hi." You said plainly.
Next, they all came up to you, saying their hellos and introductions. Everyone was seated by the time a dark-haired male entered the room.
He seemed your age and came into the room in a fuss. "Sorry if I'm late, one of the puppets got out of hand."
He stopped dead in his tracks and eyed your sitting body.
"Hey." He said, diverting his eyes to an unoccupied chair.
You just gave a faltering smile as he sat at the end of the table.
The headmistress clapped her hands and stood on her feet to face her children. "As you all know, we have a new addition to our family." She beamed to you, then continued. "Please welcome [Name]. He came to us from Miss Starling, as her loop was grievously raided." She motioned to you.
You smiled at the peculiars surrounding you, they all lightly applauded accordingly after Miss Peregrine's appeal. They all looked at you with gradient, enlightened eyes, except for one. The boy with the pretty dark hair, the one that murmured a 'hey' to you because he was late. Though you didn't recall him addressing his name.
You ineptly stared at your plate, the large peculiar-grown block of carrot laying to rot until eaten. You felt sick, being introduced to your new family wasn't something you could digest, unlike food. It meant leaving your past behind. Your family, friends, even lovers.
You felt your heart begin to quicken slightly, the pounding matched unevenly with the throbbing in your head. You stood up, looking at Miss Peregrine fearfully.
"Excuse me, I'm going to go to the loo." You said stiffly, quickly pushing in your chair and trekking to the nearest bathroom.
As you made it to the restroom, you shut the door tightly behind you and flicked the lock. You retreated and looked in the mirror. At your face, your perfect-but-imperfect [skin color] skin radiated against the restroom's ceiling light. You studied your distraught [eye color] eyes that were a mix of confusion and grief. At your tangled hair, wrinkled button-down shirt. You were a complete and utter mess, and everyone could see. Like your failures as a human being were shown at a museum display. Getting seen by judging eyes hundreds of times a day.
Everything was going by so quickly. It all hit and pounded on you like a runaway train that was driven by some sort of psychopath.
"Stupid." You muttered towards the mirror, light sobs coursing through your throat. "Why were you the one to live?"
Salty drops of water came from your eyes, cascading down your cheeks like waterfalls. The water would get too close to your mouth, then you liked the water from your chapped lips and let the shred of salt and water go down your throat.
You half-expected someone to hear your bawling and barge in and give you comfort. But why would that happen? Those were the things that would happen in a romance movie, the movies where you would be snuggled with your friends and laughing at the cheesy lines as you stood in front of the monotonous screen. But this wasn't a romance, this was a story where the character lives in grief for the rest of his life. Moping around a house, living the rest of eternity eating vegetables and goose. Vegetables and goose, goddammit.
Once again, your heart rate quickened in your flash of anger. You inhaled, and exhaled, using your power to regulate its pace.
Deciding you were over having a fit, you unlocked the door and exited.
You walked quickly back to the dining table, where most of the others peculiars were just finishing their meals. You glanced at some, flashing a smile before retaking your seat, carrots untouched.
"Are you alright? You took quite a while." The headmistress pointed out.
"I got lost," You spoke, lying through your teeth. Miss Peregrine just shrugged before going back to her meal and you poking at your carrots with a fork.
It was before a girl with blonde curls named Claire said something about movie-time that you thought that you would die of ennui.
The children all shuffled from their chairs to the living area, where two couches were parallel to each other, a chair sat empty in front of what seemed to be some type of white fabric.
Horace moved to be seated in the wood chair and you took your chance to sit next to Hugh, who blatantly smiled and had some small talk with you before everyone stilled.
Horace-who had somewhat prominent ears-had held an odd cylinder eyepiece in his hand. He lifted it to his eye and sparks of light illuminated boldly from it until a theatre-like form appeared on the white fabric.
"He projects his dreams upon the wall, you see," Hugh told you. "Mostly about apparel, but sometimes foresight into the future."
The dream was about clothes, as Hugh had stated most of his dreams were about. He was trying a variety of similar suits, picking through monocles, and sorting his top hats. It was quite dull, so you decided to play around with your heart rate (You did that a lot, but you were mindful not to do anything dangerous).
Hugh had groaned audibly from next to you, his eyes turning to slits as his eyebrows bunched up.
You mimicked Hugh, besides you groaned many pitches quieter than him.
You were going to lay down on the couch before you heard soft footsteps and a creak on the sofa. Something about how a shrouded figure sitting alongside you put you on edge, your mind resorted to the conclusion that it was a Hollowgast before remembering Millard.
So instead, you leaned back on the spot you currently were at and shut your eyes. You felt eyes on you, so you squinted open your right eye to see a pair of dim coffee-colored eyes on you before quickly diverting away.
Your consciousness faded from the apparent void of darkness into a mild sleep.
You dreamt of your original loop, of Miss Starling and the rest of her wards.
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You shook awake by, being met with the same lingering eyes from before your nap. "Get up, you lazy ass," he said.
"I'm up." You said, pushing his arm away from you. It was just the both of you in the room. You sat up as he sat next to you on the couch.
He eyed you, "I'm Enoch."
"Hullo, Enoch."
"You sound stupid."
"Thanks."
Enoch hummed before playing with the hem of his shirt a bit.
You kind of stared at him. His face was relaxed and drowsy, unlike his annoyed and stern expression from dinner. His dark hair was parted and wave-like as it swayed on the side of his face. He wore more monotoned colors compared to the others.
"What is your peculiarity?" You asked unconsciously, Enoch's eyes loomed into yours.
"I can reanimate the dead."
Your eyes widened a tad, "cool! I've only met one other dead raiser apart from you before."
Enoch shifted on the couch, "what can you do?"
You shifted, "Cardiokinesis." You stared into Enoch's eyes, an emotion besides boredom, ignorance, irritation, annoyance, and tired entered. Curiosity. "Basically I can control heart rates of me or some other living thing, apparently I can do a little more when I practice or something."
Enoch kind of just stared, and you dittoed.
"I don't say this much, but that's very intriguing," Enoch said plainly, trying to mask emotion.
"Thank you," you smiled. This small gesture, the small curve on your lips made Enoch go berserk with emotion. And, for once, he smiled back and seized your hands.
"Can you demonstrate?"
You were kind of shocked, "on you?"
"Yes, it doesn't matter."
"I can only put you in cardiac arrest for a few seconds? I can only stop it so long before you get global cerebral ischemia." Enoch did not understand what you had said but nodded nevertheless. "I can't promise that you won't be damaged."
"Just do it."
You bobbed your head, your hand just hovering above his chest. Your power spiked and coursed through your arm, a red glow stringed from your fingertips to Enoch's chest. Enoch gasped. Your head began to throb, it pounded and pounded. Enoch's already dark eyes seemed to grey out his emotion.
After another three seconds, instead of a red glow, green surfaced from your fingers and into Enoch's chest. He panted, eyes dilating.
"Are you alright?" You asked, gripping his shoulder with your right hand.
"I'm fine," Enoch said before blinking and soughing.
"A hundred-percent okay?"
"Maybe ninety-seven." He breathed. Enoch, for once, felt enlightened that you didn't view him negatively (yet, at least).
You chuckled, "You're funny sometimes."
Enoch stared blankly, "What planet are you from?"
You laughed a bit louder that time, "Earth."
"And I'm from Saturn." You didn't show emotion that time.
"You ruined the joke." Enoch just grinned, even how much he tried it he couldn't help it.
You both just leaned into the couch, enjoying the other's silence.
You're going to like it here.
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marvolocore-library · 2 years
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Camilo turning into [name]'s dad and him calling Camilo daddy. THEN CAMILO TURNS BACK AND GETS PUNCHED IN THE FAce because he knows you still call your father 'daddy'. Cam having a sensitive nose for a week and Dolores slapping him when he reached home because she heard what happened with her gift.
*This was not meant to be "kinky" or "slanderous" but I will still have the tag daddy kink so people with daddy kink blocked will not see this, this is only meant as a heartfelt joke; both 'milo and [reader] are 17+; no malicious or NSFW intent was meant; sorry if anybody found this offensive; may be drafted if I find this inappropriate in the future
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marvolocore-library · 2 years
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[Male Reader] ok, but what if Camilo comforts you by turning into your favorite animal (can he do that?? idk but he can over here) and cuddles you even if he is scaly and just straight up fall unconscious and you forget what happened and why you need comfort maybe it goes like. . . Story notes are at the bottom*
You were moping around town, avoiding anyone who looked like they would bore you. Your [pet] had died and you were going through tremendous grief. Too busy dragging your feet across the path, Camilo had unexpectedly gone up to you and embraced you tightly.
"What's wrong?" You just shrugged and trudged through his clutch. "¿Mi amor?"
You sighed, "[Pet name] died yesterday hours after you left my house."
Camilo frowned and pushed you to your house–which was only a few yards away. He forced the door open and slammed the door behind him making you flinch and regain full consciousness.
Camilo formed himself into [favorite animal] and wrapped himself around you. His [scales, fur, skin] rubbing against your form's skin. Enlightened by your significant other, you chuckled and hugged him.
"Gracias, mi amor." You whispered before falling asleep.
Later, Camilo eventually fell asleep after turning back into his normal form and playing with your hair for the next hour. He kissed you comfortingly before his eyes quavered closed.
"Anytime."
Idk I'm bored <3 *Camilo and [reader] are 17; the third paragraph was not meant to be suggestive; short/drabble; romantic, non-sexual relationship; pre-established relationship; male reader.
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