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#where he's just a sky kid and like wakes up w one wedge so he just gets them? In shrines and bosses would reward a full wedge probably
shironoegakite · 9 months
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Sky: Children of the Light x Tears of the Kingdom
Is there even an sky community here? No? Okay.
Anyways, have these two I made and didn't post here lmao, they're 1/4 and 2/4 (because sky dailies.)
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whumpzone · 3 years
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Can you write a story where Rowe's cleaning in the attic/closet/basement and he accidentally bumps into a shelf and made a heavy box fall on him and knock him out and Tomas comes running to check on him only to see Rowe unconscious on the ground and takes him back to his room and takes care of him, while Rowe is slowly waking up and apologizing and crying profusely and Tomas is comforting him while dabbing his face gently with a wet wash cloth.
Ohh! Now I've got whumperflies!
thank you for this lovely prompt, anon! it’s not 100% the same, but i really hope you like it!
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“Now, you’re sure you won’t get scared? Because I could- I could go up. Instead.” Master Tomas sounded wholly unconvincing. Rowe nodded, and gave him a small smile. They both knew that the attic contained spiders.
“I won’t get scared, Master, I promise,” he said softly.
Master exhaled and put a hand to his heart. “Thank you, Rowe. I know you’re the man for the job.”
Rowe felt his cheeks flush. I’m the man for the job. He held onto the thin ladder and climbed up.
-
The attic was cramped, barely waist height, but Rowe was small, so he wasn’t overly bothered. The tapes were apparently in a box marked, well, VHS TAPES, and Master hadn’t even asked if Rowe would know how to read it. He just trusted him. It made Rowe feel very proud, although he was cautious to admit that even to himself.
He looked around, shining the small torch Master had dug out for him, and the clutter comforted him. It was empty darkness he hated. Cold, empty nothingness, with no guarantee that his owner would ever come back, would even remember to feed him, slowly losing track of the days and being too dehydrated to cry-
Rowe shook his head and pressed on, shuffling easily along on his hands and knees. He was good at this. A spider hung from an impressive web above him. Beyond it, sandwiched between half a dozen other boxes, sat the one he was looking for. Hm.
Holding the torch between his teeth, he decided to try and wriggle it out. The boxes above it looked heavy, and if he could avoid shifting them all, he would. Besides, this way Master wouldn’t be kept waiting so long. The box was wedged in tightly, so Rowe pulled on it harder, and harder-
. . .
Tomas, who had been idling on his phone, heard the unmistakeable sound of Rowe crying out, and a sickening thud.
“Rowe, pal? Rowe?” he called, not waiting for an answer before going up. He could see the torch, rolling across the dusty floor, Rowe’s body illuminated in the cold light. “Rowe?”
No answer. Tomas kept his eyes firmly on him as he made his way over; it would be too easy to follow the cobwebs up to the roof beams and see something he really didn’t want to see.
Rowe had found the tapes, then. Tomas knew Rowe enough to know that, even with him being knocked out, he’d feel ten times worse knowing he’d failed his task. So he took the one he wanted and tucked it into his back pocket, as he took Rowe under the armpits and hauled him from the attic.
Lying Rowe down on his bed, Tomas softly carded his fingers through his hair, looking for any terrible injuries, but it seemed Rowe had only suffered a bump to the head. He was already starting to stir, so Tomas nipped to the bathroom quickly to get a wet cloth- the best remedy for just about any injury, according to his mother.
. . .
Master Tomas was the first thing Rowe saw when he opened his eyes. In his drowsy, half-awake state, his mind went straight to survival mode. His Master was wasting time on him. He was lying down, when he had chores to do. He couldn’t quite think straight.
The feeling of a damp cloth pressed against his temple momentarily soothed him, but, but it was more kindness! Kindness that he would have to earn. Weakly, he tried to sit up, but his body ignored him.
“Mm, ‘m sorry,” he gasped. Master looked at him with a frown.
“Welcome back to reality, pal. What are you sorry for?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m w-w-wasting your time, I should- I should get up,” he tried again in vain to move, but Master’s firm hand against his sternum kept him still.
“No, stay and lie down, it’s okay,” Master ordered, and Rowe went limp as he submitted. He was stretched out on his- the bed Master let him sleep on. His head was fuzzy. He felt vulnerable, and exposed, and even though all Master Tomas was doing was dabbing his forehead and telling him to stay still, Rowe still felt like a trapped animal.
“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” he babbled. “P-please forgive me, Master. Please.”
“It’s okay, it’s all okay,” Master said, looking deeply in Rowe’s eyes. Rowe realised he was looking back- making eye contact with Master!- far too late. He quickly lowered his eyes and hoped Master wouldn’t punish him for that, too.
“You had to- had to come and get m-me.”
“Pssh, I was fine. I was brave,” Master flashed him a playful grin. There didn’t… look like there was any malice to it. “It’s you who’s had an accident. You poor thing, Rowe.”
Why did Master care? Rowe couldn’t understand it. “I’m f-f-fine, I can still work, can still b-be useful. Please d-don’t trouble yourself over your Pet, Master.”
Master’s frown deepened. Oh god- was Rowe even allowed to speak? He could hardly remember. Master lifted a hand to Rowe’s face, and he flinched away unforgivably. All that Master did, though, was tap his forehead lightly. “You sure your brain didn’t get a bit scrambled, pal? I’m just making sure your little head’s okay.”
“Hh, n-no, please M-Master, please I h-h-haven’t earned it…”
“Okay, I think you’re a bit confused. You haven’t talked about earning things for a while now. Do you remember my name, pal?”
“Master- Master- Master Tomas.” The words didn’t want to come out.
“Okay, that’s good. Do you know where you are?”
“Home, I’m h-home, Master.”
Master’s face softened as he continued to dab at Rowe’s forehead. “Well, that’s definitely true. I’ll get you a glass of water, I think.”
Master returned with the glass, insisting he had earned it, and held Rowe’s head up as he drank. His hand felt sure against the top of his spine.
A few minutes passed, and Rowe’s head began clearing up. Master never made him earn his gentle treatment, really, did he? Rowe felt ashamed for forgetting so easily. He was allowed to make eye contact. He was allowed to speak. Master wasn’t quick to anger. He was kind, unreasonably so but still, and his kindness was always real. As the confusion left him, so did the fear. It was quite amazing, to feel it melt away so quickly. He was lying down, and Master Tomas was perched halfway down the bed, holding the half-drank glass of water. Rowe looked at him and smiled.
“Master, I tried- I thought I could get the box out, but some of the ones on top of it fell onto me, so I-“
“You didn’t manage to get this?” Master smiled, holding up the tape. “I nabbed it while I was gallantly rescuing you.”
“Th-thank you,” Rowe said, almost breathlessly. “That’s great, thank you M-Master, thank you.”
Master reached over and ruffled his hair, and this time Rowe flinched only a tiny bit. “You were still the man for the job, Rowe. You found them. Well done.”
“What’s on the tape, Master?”
“Me as a little kid. I thought it might make for an entertaining watch. I had even more impressive curls as a toddler, you know.”
Nothing sounded better. Rowe could see what it was like to grow up as a person. What a normal family was like. The thought of sitting on the sofa and watching it with Master made him feel normal, too.
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tagging since i’ve judged this long enough to deserve it: @sola-whumping @just-another-whumper @misspelledwitch @looptheloup @briars7 @black-polarf @zipadeedooda-drabbles @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @rosesareviolentlyread @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jazz-0307 @kestrelsparverius @whumpsy-daisies @whumpersworld @memoriesneverforget @sky-or-something-idfk @ghostcomit @cupcakes-and-pain @frankieswhump @ihaventwritteninsolong @mybrokenlittletoy @kiretto-laorentze @morelikepainsley @lave-e @tears-and-lilies @whump-me-all-night-long @newbornwhumperfly @itaina-anta @whump-it @haro-whumps @simplygrimly @alex-ember @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @mnmlover2002 @thekatastrophic @princessofonward @xmonster-under-the-bed @as-a-matter-of-whump @5boys1house @crystalrainwing @starnight-whump
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Small Price to Pay
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Warnings: Non con, dub con, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, little bit of childbirth, slight depression, 18+
Word count: 2,973
Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader
Summary: Reader is the youngest girl in her family and her father is looking to sell his daughter into marriage next. She’s able to fend off majority of the men who come to court her, but then a mysterious man with eyes the color of the ocean comes into the picture. Money is a small price to pay for a happy life after all. 
~ indicates a time change
Prompts: The song “Light” by Sleeping at last
A/N: This is for @marvelfulxbabes​ challenge that I’m so thrilled to be apart of. I’m sorry for the hiatus, school is always way busier during the 2nd semester, but I have a bunch of stuff coming out. As for my series they may take a while, so I’m sorry if you were invested in those. They are coming though, I miss them deeply. Anyway, hope you enjoy :)
Ps: Thinking about part 2 to this, whatcha think? ;)
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Your father was a douchebag. Plain and simple. He had bought your mother from your grandfather and he had sold your older sisters to men twice their age. Now that you were 18, it was your turn. You were extremely close to your sister, Anne. She was the third oldest and the last to leave you alone with your two younger half brothers. She was the most like you and always fought back the men who came to bid on her like property. Sadly, a man came by and easily found it charming. She always said to never give in, figure out what they want and do the opposite. You’d be successful only until dad finds a man who doesn’t give a damn at all. They were out there, but your father had failed nearly a thousand times already. 
Since your birthday, at least three men have come to your house to try to court you. In fact, that’s what your birthday present was, a rich man named Tony Stark there to court you. He worked as a CEO on the upper east side for a well known tech company. He was loaded, and your father wanted in. You figured out Tony like proper and well spoken ladies, someone to show off at his expensive Galas filled with people who spoke seven different languages. So, you acted a slob. Spilled your fancy tea all over yourself and his prestine suit, mispoke several words, use vulgar language, and acted painfully stupid. Tony marched right out and your father made you kneel in rice until your knees bled. It was worth the pain. 
It’s been six months and your father was unsuccessful. You have never seen your sisters since their marriage and you missed them, especially Anne. You didn’t want to end up a housewife somewhere with no say in anything. When your mom died your father quickly remarried, it was as if your mother meant nothing to him. You’d be damned if that happened to you. If you were going to get married, it’d be for love. 
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“Wake up, you have a visitor.” Your father shook you awake. You rubbed your eyes and looked to your father, he was already smoking a cigar even though it was 8am. You groaned and got out of bed, walking to your closet, pulling out a t-shirt and jeans. 
“Oh no, you can go out like that.” Your father pointed to your sleep shorts that showed off your legs and cupped your ass perfectly; your top was a thin tank top that showed your hardening nipples. You rolled your eyes and started walking to your door, shouldering your way past your father. 
You walked into the living room and saw a man standing there with his back to you facing the window. His arms were folded and you saw one sparkling in the light, he had a metal arm. You gasped at it and stopped in your tracks. The man turned to you and the corners of his mouth threatened to rise. He was hot. His hair was pinned out of his face in a man bun, he wore navy blue dress pants and a white button up dress shirt that had he rolled to his elbows. His eyes were as bright as the diamonds the strange men bring to you in order to try to buy your love. 
“Mr. Barnes, my daughter. Daughter, Mr. Barnes.” The way your father said daughter bit at your nerves. He knew introducing you with a title rather than your name made you feel inferior, as if that’s the only thing there was to know about you. You glared at your father before turning back to Mr Barnes. He extended his flesh hand to you. 
“Pleased to meet you. I doubt your name is daughter, though.”
He smiled at you, but it didn’t meet his eyes. You took his hand and faked a smile. “Mmmhm, it’s not. Y/n will do just fine.” Mr. Barnes shook your hand before gesturing to the couch. 
“Take a seat, let’s get to know each other.” At that your father excused himself, but not before casting you a warning look. You smirked back at him before taking your seat next to Mr. Barnes. “So, how old are you?”
“97, just a few years younger than you.” You bit at him. You always lead with sarcasm, if they laughed they were serious and you’d have to become boring. If they didn’t that means you had to continue being “unladylike.” 
Mr. Barnes eyebrows shot up before he laughed a bit. It wasn’t real, he was uncomfortable. He was easy to read, you had this in the bag. 
“Alright, I see why you’re so uptight. I wouldn’t like it if men were to come in and try to buy me either. Believe it or not, I used to hate this practice.”
“Yet you’re willingly here and seem to be enjoying it.” You cocked your head to the side, your smart mouth making him shift a bit. 
“My younger sisters have been victims of this trade,” Mr.Barnes ignores you, “I always said I wouldn’t do it. As time has gone on, no woman of value isn’t being bargained off. You should be lucky your father cares for you so much, the ones who aren’t cared for are just thrown out into the world.” 
“Grateful? My father sold my sisters like livestock for a couple millions and I haven’t seen any of them in years! This “bargaining” system is destroying families and is never created equal. What do the men and young boys suffer? What do they lose? They can still go see their family. They still have freedom.” Your voice raised, the audacity that these men had always blew your mind. They didn’t understand and never would, so why did they try to sit there and try to make you? They saw how unhappy their sisters and mothers were, yet they continued on with this bullshit for generations. If you ever were married off and had a son, you’d beg him to stop the cycle. You’d try even harder to protect your daughter. 
Mr. Barnes sighed and sat up a bit more. “I’m sorry doll, I didn’t mean to upset you. I meant it as a compliment, honest.” You crossed your arms and glared at him. He looked apologetic but you didn’t care. You weren’t here to be nice, you were there to survive as long as you possibly could. 
“Well, Mr. Barnes, your intentions don’t seem to have worked out, did they?” You raised your chin and said his name with a poison that even stunned you. There’s no way he’s gonna want you.
“My real name is James, sorry for the formicality,” Mr.Barnes was suddenly smiling and standing up. He crossed to the door that separated the living room and the main area in your house. Where your father was sitting on the other side. What just happened?
You lookedon with curious eyes as James opened the door and called for your father. He was still smiling and your father rushed over, angry eyes finding yours before turning soft at James when he saw his beaming face. “We have a deal, sir” He shook your father’s hand while your jaw dropped. Fuck.
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Two million dollars. That’s how much you’re worth apparently. You don’t know where you went wrong, but being a brat was only going to work so many times. James apparently didn’t mind at all that you had a mouth, in fact he was telling your father how much he loved it. He said while looking for a wife he pretended to be proper so that when the girls acted the way they thought he wanted them to, boring in his opinion, he knew they weren’t for him. You, on the other hand, spoke your mind and were feisty. It ignited a flame James believed was dead. 
You looked on with glossed over eyes as you say your belongings being packed away and set in a moving truck. It was mostly irreplaceable objects such as photos and your favorite clothing. James promised to buy you new things and to add a new wardrobe. He must’ve been loaded because after dropping that much he still promised so much more. Lucky girl you were.
You signed a paper while a ring decorated your finger and numbly kissed James on the lips to seal your marriage. He wore a similar band on his left hand finger. “Congratulations, may your marriage be filled with joy, blah blah blah.” Your father blabbered while he sucked on another cigar and counted the money James had given him. 
James took you to his house. It was a humble suburban home on the outskirts of New York, much different than your penthouse in the city. There was a white picket fence and freshly trimmed grass decorating the outside. “We’re home, doll.” James cut the engine of his BMW, putting his hand on your thigh. You changed into a short blue summer dress that complimented your skin tone and brown wedges. You looked like your mom and every other dutiful wife you’d known. 
You stepped out of the car and looked up at the house that you’d be spending the rest of your life. The sky was clear and beautiful but you felt the depressive clouds that rained over cul de sac, drenching their housewives. The weight these women held, loving the men who cheated, hated, and abused them. James came up behind you and pulled your waist so that you leaned on him. He kissed your cheek and looked into your eyes. “I can’t wait for us to fill the rooms in the house. I can see it now, two kids a boy and a girl. Maybe more if it feels right.” Your stomach churned at the thought. You didn’t want kids with him. But it didn’t matter, when you signed your name you signed away your happiness. The light had gone out in your soul. 
“Yes dear.”
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Two years into your marriage felt like a decade. Every day was the same: wake up, make breakfast, see James off to work, clean, shower and look pretty for James, cook dinner, welcome James home, eat dinner and ask James about his day, have sex, and go to sleep. The sex at first was painful and he was never gentle. He was never lovey dovey, never brought flowers, just wanted a one-sided relationship. 
You always went to visit his family and friends on holidays or you hosted his family and friends at your house. You hadn’t seen your family and, even though you hated your dad and never really talked with your stepmom and brothers, you missed them for the similarity. You were missing your brothers growing up, one was three when you left the other was six. You asked once to see your sisters and James merely shrugged it off. “You would only bother them” he reasoned, “They’re busy running a household like you. They don’t have time for useless small talk.”
Today it wasn’t your alarm that woke you up. It was the vomit that was rising in your stomach, pushing its way out of your mouth. You ran to your bathroom and puked in the toilet. You continued gagging and dry heaving when everything was out of your tummy. James walked in rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and yawning. “What’s wrong, honey?”
“N-nothing, dear. I’m sorry for waking you.”
James shook his head and walked closer to you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I think I just ate something.”
James frowned. “We eat the same thing, have for years. You always skip lunch because it ruins your appetite for dinner. I’m not feeling sick.” His lips showed signs of cracking a smile as he bit his finger, pretending to ponder what could be going on.
You knew what he meant. It had been two years of sensless fucking. Like you had held out on marriage your body had held out on pregnancy, but just like your marriage to james, your body had come to a point that it could no longer fight. 
James opened up the medicine cabinet behind the mirror and pulled out a pink box. He reached in and pulled out to reveal two white sticks. He handed them to you. “Take them.”
You reached out and took the sticks, starting to pull your pants down so you could pee. Thirty minutes later, James’ phone timer rang and he looked at the sticks. His face scrunched as pure joy took over his features. He held the sticks out to you. “We’re pregnant!”
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You had just gotten done with your baby shower and you were now sitting down for a break before you would get up and start cleaning. You rubbed your sore back and nine month old belly. Baby boy was bigger than normal, James said it was because of his special genes. James was saying bye to his best friend, Steve, before he shut the door and turned to you. Of course, nobody you were close with was at the party, just James’ family and close friends. He did say he had phones your father to tell him the news, but he failed to send even a card. You had grown to not expect much or feel sad for the neglect you got emotionally from your husband or your father. 
James made his way to you, he was still smiling. “Not much longer, doll. We’ll be meeting this big guy any day now.” He rubbed your belly before grabbing your hand, pulling you up to stand despite your pain. “Dance with me.” You both danced to music that wasn’t playing and you felt your son kick. You smiled, the light you thought you’d lost was slowly lighting again. 
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The contractions were horrible. Nothing you had ever felt before. You were screaming and clutching James’ hand as you were being wheeled into the hospital room. Nurses and doctors poked and prodded at your skin, asking you questions you weren’t capable of answering due to the immense pain you were feeling. Your legs were propped up and James moved closer to you, still holding your hand. The doctor came to stand between your legs before sitting in a chair. He nodded to James while you sobbed out as a new wave of pain washed over you. “Alright, Mrs. Barnes, push.”
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Your schedule was thrown off balance a bit, you had a newborn now. You still did the majority of the things the same, wake up, make breakfast, get James Jr, or Bucky as a nickname, and feed him, see James off to work, clean up, bathe and dress Bucky, clean and dress yourself up, make lunch because it was important for breastfeeding now, walk around to settle Bucky for a nap, cook dinner, greet James, feed Bucky, get him ready for bed, have sex with James, and sleep yourself. 
You loved your son unconditionally, he slept in the crib next to you and James’ bed for now. “Easier access” James had said. You didn’t mind, you were closer with the love of your life. 
James held your wrists in one hand as he thrusted into you, his hips crushing into yours at fast and hard rhythm that was sure to leave bruises. His moans and skin slapping skin was the only thing you could hear in the room, Bucky was sleeping soundly. 
“Fuck, your pussy is so good for me. Still so tight, even after Bucky. Shit I’m gonna cum, gonna fill you up so you can give me a girl. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, James.”
“Mmm, good girl. My good girl.” James finished inside you, grunting in the process. He rolled over and released a long breath. “You’re such a good mom, doll. Such a good wife.” He sleepily rambled. You hummed in response and rolled over to face Bucky, watching as his tiny hands scrunched into fists and his steady breaths caused his chest to rise and fall. His light blue and grey onesie and matching hat barely fit, he was growing faster than you thought any baby did. You’d ask James to buy more soon. Maybe he would let you go too, picking out baby clothes for your son would make you so happy. You’d work towards it, make James’ favorite meal and might even throw in a few blowjobs. 
Bucky’s face started to contort and he soon started to fuss, his pacifier falling out of his mouth. You looked at the time and knew it was time for his feeding. He ate a lot but that’s just what a growing boy like him needed, plenty of food. You picked him up before he could wake James and guided him to your nipple. He stopped crying and started sucking, looking at you with big blue eyes like his father. You let you fist wrap around your finger as you slightly rocked and quietly hummed. Bucky was the light you needed in your life. He made your soul glow again, and he gave you hope for the future. Hidden in the dressure was money you were slowly stealing from James. Five dollars here, another ten there. By this time next year you’d have enough money to leave with your son Bucky. You’d leave with your sisters to live in a house Anne had found in Germany. 
Bucky let go of your breast and cooed. He looked at you with sleepy eyes as he let out a small yawn. You smiled. “With every heartbeat I have left, I will defend your last breath.” You promised your son. He was the light, and you felt you could sleep peacefully at last knowing he was right there with you.
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@jtargaryen18​
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