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thatdammchickennugget · 1 month

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Hello! I freaking love your writing. I was wondering if you could write Remus x fem!reader fic where the reader is a little 'keep my feelings to myself' closed off-ish person. She is in a relationship with Rem, she loves him but is scared to tell him that, thinking he might not say it back and one day drunk, she comes to his dorm or smth like that and launches why she loves him and all the little things he does that make her happy and how she is scared of feeling so much about someone. And Remus is just melting in his seat cause he does feel the same and much more towards her. I know this might be too specific so if you want you can change some part for better writing flow.❤️

Tangled Hearts

a/n - loved this request so much, I've been having so much fun writing for remus again lately ♡

pairing - remus lupin x gn!reader

warnings - fluff, alcohol, mention of y/n

wordcount - 1.4k

You sit quietly in the Gryffindor common room, the crackling fire providing a comforting backdrop to the chatter of your fellow students. Amidst the laughter and animated discussions, you find solace in the dim light, observing from a distance, your thoughts a tumultuous sea of emotions.

Remus, your boyfriend, occupies the armchair across from you, engrossed in a book. His sandy hair falls gently across his forehead, and his warm brown eyes flicker with curiosity as he turns each page. You watch him with a mixture of adoration and apprehension, your heart heavy with unspoken words.

It's been months since you and Remus officially started dating, navigating the labyrinth of emotions that comes with young love. Yet, despite the countless sweet moments you've shared, there's one sentiment that remains trapped within the confines of your chest: the three words you long to say but fear to speak.

You steal a glance at Remus, a pang of longing coursing through you as you imagine the weight of those words hanging in the air between you. But the fear of rejection looms large, a specter haunting your every thought. What if he doesn't feel the same? What if your vulnerability drives him away?

Lost in your thoughts, you barely notice the gentle hand that settles on your shoulder, pulling you back to reality. Sirius offers you a sympathetic smile, his eyes filled with understanding.

"You alright there?" he asks, his voice laced with concern. "You seem a bit distant tonight."

You muster a weak smile in response, offering a noncommittal nod. "Just tired, I suppose," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sirius studies you for a moment, his gaze piercing through the facade you've carefully constructed. He knows you better than most, sensing the turmoil that rages beneath the surface.

"Listen, if there's ever anything you need to talk about," Sirius begins, his tone earnest, "you know I'm here for you, right? You don't have to keep everything bottled up."

You nod gratefully, the weight of his words like a balm to your wounded soul. But even as you offer him a small smile of appreciation, you can't shake the lingering doubt that gnaws at the edges of your consciousness.

As the hours stretch into the night, you remain ensconced in the shadows, your heart heavy with the burden of unspoken words. And amidst the laughter and camaraderie that fills the Gryffindor common room as your friends prepare for the party tonight, the anticipation of the upcoming fun swirls around you, a mix of excitement and trepidation as the evening wears on.

Your friends buzz with energy, exchanging jests and making plans for the night ahead. Yet, you can't shake the unease that lingers in the pit of your stomach, a silent reminder of the words left unsaid.

Later that night, you find yourself swept up in the revelry, the music and laughter washing over you like a tide. But even as you try to lose yourself in the moment, the weight of your unspoken feelings anchors you to the ground. Was Remus waiting for you to tell him? Would he pull away if you didn’t? Or would your admission drive him away because he doesn’t feel the same way?

Hours pass in a blur of dancing and laughter, time and drinks slipping away unnoticed until the room begins to blur around the edges. You've had one too many drinks, the alcohol coursing through your veins and dulling the edges of your worries.

In a haze of drunken determination, you stumble away from the crowd, your feet carrying you in the direction of Remus's dormitory. Each step feels like a battle against gravity, your mind swimming with thoughts and emotions too turbulent to contain.

Your boyfriend had complained about a migraine not long ago. You had instantly gotten up from your seat next to Lily to go lie down with him, but he had told you not to worry about it and have fun, glad to see you let a little loose for once and confident that his friends would keep an eye on you. Unbeknownst to him, Sirius was way past thinking clearly and the two of you had gone all out at the drinks table after he left.

Finally reaching Remus's door, you fumble with the handle, your fingers clumsy from the alcohol. With a sigh of relief, you push the door open, stumbling into the dimly lit room beyond.

"Y/n?" Remus's voice cuts through the fog in your mind, filled with concern as he rushes to your side. "Are you alright?"

You try to muster a response, but the words elude you, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. Instead, you collapse onto his bed, your head spinning as Remus kneels beside you, his eyes clouded with worry.

"Merlin, you're drunk," he murmurs, his voice tinged with both amusement and concern. "What happened?"

You open your mouth to speak, but all that emerges is a garbled mess of words, your thoughts jumbled and incoherent. With a sigh, Remus reaches out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face as he surveys you with a mixture of fondness and exasperation.

"I think it's time you got some rest," he says softly, his hand lingering on your cheek.

You nod, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine as you sink into the comfort of his presence.

Remus helps you out of your shoes and covers you with a blanket, tucking you in with a tenderness that melts away the last of your worries. As he settles onto the bed beside you, you can't help but revel in his warmth, the steady rhythm of his breath a soothing melody in the darkness.

For a while, you lie in silence. But as the alcohol dulls your inhibitions, a sense of urgency gnaws at the edges of your consciousness, urging you to break free from the shackles of silence.

"Remus," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath as you turn to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "I... I need to tell you something."

Remus meets your gaze, his eyes soft with concern as he reaches out, his hand finding yours in the darkness. "What is it, love?" he asks, his voice a gentle caress against your skin as he presses his lips to your forehead.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the vulnerability that comes with laying your heart bare. "I... I love you, Remus," you confess, the words tumbling from your lips like a prayer into the night. "I love you more than I can put into words, and... and I'm sorry for not saying it sooner."

Remus's heart skips a beat at your words, the weight of them sinking deep into his soul. He watches you with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat, his eyes shimmering and a soft smile playing on his lips. Your breath catches for a moment, the feeling of regret quickly washing over you, but instead of rejection or hesitation, you feel the warmth of his hand tightening around yours, his touch a silent reassurance, urging you to keep talking.

"I love the way you always have a book tucked under your arm, the way your eyes light up when you talk about something you're passionate about," you confess, your voice trembling with emotion. "I love the way you look at me like I'm the only person in the room, the way you make me feel safe and loved."

You don’t give him the chance to respond, a sense of vulnerability creeping in, filling you with a fear you can't quite name. "I'm scared, Remus," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper as you meet his gaze, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Scared of feeling so much about someone, scared of what might happen if I lose you."

Remus's heart aches at the raw honesty in your words, his own fears and insecurities laid bare before you. With a soft sigh, he pulls you into his arms, holding you close as he presses another tender kiss to your forehead.

"I'm scared too, love," he murmurs, his voice trembling with emotion. "But you have no idea how long I've waited to hear those words from you. I love you, too, more than anything in this world."

The tenderness in his voice sends a surge of warmth coursing through you, melting away the last of your doubts. You reach out, cupping his face in your hands as you press your lips to his, pouring all of your love and longing into the kiss.

Remus Taglist - @urmomsgirlfriend1 @remussbitch @nighttimewrites @starsval @whoknowsbut @gayforyelena @whoreforfictionalmen18 @darkacademicvibes @marauderswhxre @ravenclawprincess33 @helpimhopelesslyinlove @Yhiiil @themarauderswife7 @bath1lda @vcosette @rinalouu @agent-tempest @s0urw00lf @pinkestfloyd @l0v3do11 @unstablereader @wolfstar-marvelsfan @captainstanksblog @pinktreee @andrew-and-flower @slutforfictionalcharacterss @iamgayforyourmom1501 @cas-planet @poppysrin @camille-1019 @slytherinambitious @notyaslol

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#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fic #marauders #marauders era #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #oneshot #writing #mari writes

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aziraphales-library · 4 months

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hello!! i love you all so much (platonic) and appreciate the work you do. do you have any recs where one/both of the ineffable husbands/wives is getting out of a relationship and goes to the other for comfort and maybe realizes they've been in love with them the whole time? thanks so much <333333

Here are some break-up friends-to-lovers fics for you...

I'm All Yours by FeralTuxedo (E)

Anthony J. Crowley knew he looked like a walking mid-life crisis. The tight jeans, half-up bun and sunglasses positively screamed ‘I left my wife for the babysitter and bought a vintage car just to feel alive again.’ In an adaptation of his life, he’d be played by Hugh Grant. He looked like a divorcee desperate for action, and it didn’t help that he was currently standing outside a nightclub surrounded by drunk twenty-year-olds. But Crowley wasn’t here for a good time tonight. He was on a rescue mission. Crowley has been rescuing his friend Aziraphale over and over again for a decade. Hopelessly in love, ready to jump at a moment’s notice when he was needed. When Aziraphale finally breaks up with his partner, Crowley is there to help him through what’s looking to be one hell of a mid-life crisis. Things could finally change. If he manages not to mess it up again. A human AU with a whole forest’s worth of pining squeezed into a single day.

…And They Were Roommates by Mimsynims (E)

“You know… I just remembered that Richard and I were going away for a few days next month.” Something devious came over him. “Richard paid for it, but the booking is in my name.” Crowley quickly caught on to what he was getting at. “Ooh, I see. That’s convenient.” He grinned. “For us." When Aziraphale's boyfriend Richard (Dick) breaks up with him, he and his roommate Crowley hijacks an intended couples' vacation and uses it for themselves. Lines that had started to blur even before their trip gets even more blurry - which perhaps isn't the best thing when both are hiding a crush on the other (and communication isn't their strong suit).

Ezra at the Wedding by tenandi (E)

Ezra's ex is moving on but he's determined to stop the wedding. With his handsome neighbor masquerading as his new love interest, will he win back his true love and rewrite the happy ending he deserves? - Crowley was leaning against the doorframe, obviously hungover and running on about two hours of sleep. A ripped t-shirt hung off one shoulder over a pair of boxers with devil ducks printed all over them. To top it all off, he was wearing black velvet slippers embroidered with his monogram. In any other instance, Ezra would have laughed but he was too busy being wrapped up in his anguish. “What do you want, Crowley?” Ezra fumed. “I am having a moment here!”

You are HoMe (Half of Me) by angelsnuffbox (T)

Aziraphale had gotten dumped, plain and simple. But that small detail wasn’t nearly as important as all the things that happened after he’d gotten dumped - such as coming to a few realisations about his best friend of sixteen years.

Hooped Earrings by OfEden (E)

After 29 years Azira comes out. While her family and ex boyfriend don't support her, her life long best friend is there by her side every step of the way.

Crawling Back To You by madrabbitwrites (NR)

College-age Aziraphale pushed his closest friend away and moved out of town with his married Literature professor in a panicked attempt at escaping his family’s rampant homophobia. Years later, devastated by a dreadful break-up, he’s returned to his small hometown to live with his brother and attempt to heal his broken heart (and broken life, if he were being honest with himself). What he didn’t count on was his old friend Crawley- now calling himself Crowley and looking dashing as ever- to have returned as well. Crawley’s wounds from their last argument are deep and Aziraphale may never be able to regain what they once had, but he’d certainly like to try. The two of them need to have an actual conversation, but that’s not really how these plots go, is it?

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #break up #friends to lovers #adult omens #human au #mod d

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zzoguri · 1 month

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familiarity (it’s all sticky) ➵ lee seokmin

peter parker!lee seokmin x spiderman!reader

you’re not sure why you decide to show up at your ex’s place all wounded up from tonight’s battle.

genre/warnings ➵ exes (to sort of lovers?), angst, touch of fluff, afab reader (no gendered terms), hurt/comfort (both physical and emotional), discussions of wounds and depictions of blood, lowercase intended, ghost-spider au (though please don’t expect it to be accurate!), reader is obviously spiderman while dokyeom is peter parker i mean HELLO?? i am right, dokyeom is a lil a slob here, reader’s hair is long enough to be tucked behind their ear, based everything on google when it comes to patching up wounds omg, kissing fingertips, mentions of non-sexual stripping and showering (let him take care of you)

word count ➵ 4k words

playlist ➵ nonviolent communication by metro boomin, james blake, a$ap rocky, & 21 savage // hummingbird by metro boomin & james blake

a/n ➵ my svt writing debut <3 i thought this fic would also work really well for my silly dk and i wanted caratblr to have a chance to read this lil baby of mine <3 here's the original work if you're interested! and ofc, thank you to my cat @wuahae for betareading the original :’) you know how much i love you! don't forget to reblog and leave feedback!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! want to request? check out my guidelines! masterlist

new york city never falls silent. the bustle of every new yorker can be heard through their footsteps, the wheels that glide against the train tracks along with the beeps of taxis sound throughout the city. the metropolis stays alive in every street, every alleyway, every corner. no matter what hour it may be, each pavement is wide awake.

but the lights seem hazy tonight; the luminescence pours out of every building, the led boards are only blurs of silhouettes and illegible words. normally, you would warn against going out if someone could barely make sense of what these signs say, but you never seem to follow your own advice.

as you swing through the city, web clinging onto every building, blood continues to seep through the white spandex that covers you from head to toe. your body feels heavy, the pain in your lower abdomen continuing to spike with every movement—every swing—you make.

you bite on your lip, holding back the whimpers. your eyes dart through every street sign you pass. with every swing, you realize you’re nowhere close to where you should be. instead…

you don’t allow yourself to think it over. maybe the loss of blood has you moving out of impulse, but for now, you can only think of getting rid of the pain.

you swing around the corner before landing down at the familiar fire escape, paint-chipped and rusted just like you remember. a hiss leaves your mouth as your hand reaches out to the spot where the blood continues to seep through, holding it down to keep pressure on the wound.

you’re face-to-face with the window; the reflection of you all suited up in some persona is a sight you’re accustomed to—but not on the glass of his window. you’re not sure why you came back here, injured in an identity he only knew of through word of mouth.

but the throbbing in your abdomen doesn’t give you enough time to think more about it. pushing the window up, you throw one leg over the edge into the apartment. your eyes quickly scan through the familiar space—a room you once treated as yours.

pillows scattered and bedsheets wrinkled, the walls are littered with the same posters of anime he swears to be the best of all time (which you agreed with), along with his desk, littered with trinkets you haven’t seen since the day you left him—ones that he talked about to you back then with so much joy.

as you attempt to get your other leg over the edge of the window, you yelp at the sharp pain that strikes. “fuck,” you whimper, gasping out a breath. another groan rips out from your throat as you force your leg over, head resting on the frame with closed eyes, bracing yourself through the wave of pain that follows.

as pants continue to leave your mouth, your senses tingle as your ears catch the sound of footsteps on the other side of the room. you attempt to stand up only for another groan to leave your lips, and you realize it’s too late—the door creaks open, revealing the man you haven’t been face-to-face with since you said your farewell months ago.

dressed in an oversized white tee and a pair of black shorts, dokyeom stands with a bag of chips in his hand and disheveled hair, eyes wide and gaping. you can only assume he was fresh from bed.

“s-spiderman?!” he looks around, noticing the mess that you’re being exposed to. before you can register it, he rushes in, dropping the bag of chips somewhere near the doorway, and tries to tidy his bed. “w-what are you doing here? i think you might’ve entered the wrong room,” he stutters as he attempts to fix his pillows and bedsheets (poorly, if you may say).

somehow, the sight of dokyeom all frazzled makes you smile behind your mask. the idea of your—no, you mean, this guy all worried about you seeing how untidy he lives makes you chuckle.

but as you laugh, pain shoots through your lower abdomen once more. you cough out before hissing, pressing onto the wound. it takes everything in you to keep your body upright until you feel a pair of hands rest on your shoulders. you look up only to be met with his worried expression.

and you spot the way his eyes trail down to where your hand rests. you’re thankful that the mask could hide the heat that rises to your cheeks.

“oh god, you need that treated,” dokyeom’s eyes snap back up to you, and your breath hitches. even after all these months, he still holds stars in his eyes.

it’s been a while since you last saw him up close. the bags on his under eyes have turned a few shades darker, and you notice an eyelash that rests on his cheek. you don’t think about what you do next, your free hand reaching out to his face, and his breath hitches. once you pick it out, you flick the strand off of your fingers, and that’s when you realize the mistake you committed.

“s-sorry,” you choke out. although you try to keep your voice as low and gruntled as possible, he frowns. he bites the inside of his cheek as his eyes flicker between your masked face and the wound.

“i-i don’t know how to help. i can call for an ambulan—”

you grab onto his arm before he can leave. as you shake your head, he gulps. “i can’t really help you,” he says, but your grip doesn’t falter. with that, he lets out a sigh before kneeling in front of you. his hands find themselves on the ledge, his arms now caging your frail figure. “do you have someone in mind who can help you?”

dokyeom’s question is innocent. you’re sure the last thing he meant was to mock your situation—showing up in a “stranger’s” room unannounced—but it strikes a chord in you.

you haven’t spoken to him since you broke up a few months back. when you’re outside of your suit, you avoid him like the plague. in the hallways of campus, you take any possible route to not cross his. but when you’re covered in your second skin, you find yourself on top of buildings watching him from far away. with the distance, you allow yourself to learn about what he’s been up to since you two last spoke.

so you don’t know why you sit in front of him all injured and dressed up in white, black, and pink spandex, because you haven’t spoken to him since that day. shame bubbles within you all while reality slowly slips from your fingertips. and the way your body gets heavier with every second that passes has him mumbling profanities.

his hands hold onto you as he makes you lean your weight on the frame of the window. “wait,” he says as he stands up and walks into his bathroom. before you know it, he comes out with a box.

dokyeom finds his spot back in front of you and he opens what he retrieved. as he looks through the supplies of bandages, alcohol, gauze, and more, he says as his eyes flicker up towards you, “i don’t know how much this will help but it’ll do for now.”

and you should be thankful that someone is willing to bandage you up after the rough night you’ve had, but it feels like a lie to have dokyeom be the one to do it, especially when you haven’t told him the truth.

so when he grabs onto the supplies he needs to treat your wound, your free hand reaches for the underside of your mask. his eyes follow where it rests, and he freezes in his tracks. your fingertips curl on the fabric as you take a deep breath.

“you don’t—”

you shake your head, cutting him off, and you close your eyes before pulling off the mask.

you’re afraid to look at the boy kneeling in front of you, for you can only imagine the annoyance—the disgust—that will paint his features. it’s not like you had a choice to show up at his fire escape this one night, but it was your choice to reveal who spiderman really is behind the mask.

a beat passes.

you’re not sure what to do at this moment. what are you supposed to do after a vigilante reveals who they are?

but when you open your eyes, dokyeom looks back at you with an emotion you can’t pinpoint. he averts his eyes, trailing down to your wound. “let me see it,” he whispers.

you gulp, an attempt to clear your throat and thoughts, before letting your hand move away from the puncture. your hand grips the hem of the top of your suit, peeling it upwards to reveal a bloody wound. from the sight, it looks like you were stabbed, but it’s only a deep cut.

he pulls out a piece of cloth, reaching out and pressing it to your wound. you yelp, eyes squeezing shut at the contact. “i’m sorry, but we need to stop the bleeding a bit more.” it takes everything in you to open your eyes. you’re met with the sight of dokyeom whose face holds a thousand emotions—you can’t identify any of them.

“can you keep pressure on it?” you only nod before you remove your gloves, afraid to touch the wound with fabric covered in grime. you dump your mask and gloves on the space beside you before letting your hand reach to where the cloth is held against. your hand brushes against his for a split second—you retract your hand immediately at the contact with his skin.

at the sudden motion, the cloth against your stomach drops with nothing left to hold it. dokyeom curses in a panic, hand shooting out in an attempt to save it, but you react faster. snatching it mid-fall, you grasp it tightly, placing the cloth back onto your wound. his eyes dart between where your hand rests and your face, a twinge of worry cast on his features, but he doesn’t give you an opportunity to say anything as he stands up quickly and walks back to his bathroom.

you hear the water run for a moment. the noises of the street fill your ears. the lights from outside cascade the floor, hues of yellow and purple filling the room. and then thunder rumbles; it shakes the floorboards. the sounds of raindrops follow, and you feel your back start to get wet from the storm that has entered new york city.

you try to push yourself off the ledge, a groan ripping out of your throat once more. and you’re finally on your feet. but at any moment, it feels like you may collapse.

“wait, wait! what are you doing?” dokyeom exclaims as he rushes out of the bathroom. he quickly grabs hold of you in an attempt to keep you steady. “don’t stand up or that wound might get worse.”

“i-it’s just the rain. i don’t want to leave the window open.” as you turn your torso, another spike strikes where your wound is. the yelp that leaves your mouth has dokyeom grip onto your arm tighter.

“no, just sit. i’ll take care of it,” he says as he brings you to his chair, his hand never leaves your arm. you let out a hiss until your bottom meets the cushion. as soon as your back rests on the chair, you close your eyes for a moment from the pain.

his hand leaves you. you hear the window shut; the car horns and barks from stray animals are now muffled.

when your eyes flutter open, dokyeom crouches in front of you with a wet towel in his hand. “i need to clean it.” you only nod before removing the cloth on your wound. he grabs it from you and places it on his lap.

as he raises the wet towel to your wound, you flinch at the contact. he quickly retracts it and asks, “does it hurt?”

“no, it’s just cold,” you mumble back. he only nods before attempting to clean the area around your wound. while he keeps his eyes on the puncture, your eyes remain on his face; hues of yellow cast upon him.

his skin glows under the city lights—did anyone know about the stars you once carved on it?

“is this why we broke up?” his eyes snap toward yours as he asks that question.

you cannot help but bite the inside of your cheek. “y-yeah,” you choke out.

he hums before his eyes go back down to your injury. “i’m guessing this is why you were distant then, right?”

you don’t bother to speak, letting the silence speak for itself.

he removes the wet towel; the white cloth is covered in patches of red. as he crumples it into a ball, you spot that his white shirt holds splotches of blood as well.

dokyeom stands up to drop the pieces of fabric on the table behind you. “your dad obviously doesn’t know,” he mutters to himself.

it’s a rhetorical question. of course, your father has no clue of your late-night rendezvous. you’re sure he could never look at you the same if he found out because to him, he would never understand what you do. he would see you only as a low-life criminal in the same way the nypd does.

dokyeom then dabs a cotton ball soaked in betadine on your abdomen. you bite on your lip as a hiss leaves your mouth. “fuck,” you curse, and he only continues to clean up your wound.

silence takes over you two. as he bandages you up, you allow yourself to close your eyes. you were thankful to find rest in these small moments. but you don’t miss the warmth of his fingertips on your skin; they feel just like last time.

“why did you come here?” his question has your eyes snapping open, and you are met with a frown resting on his face.

you bite the inside of your cheek. “i-i don’t know.” it’s a lie—one you both know. you had every chance to change the route you were taking. instead, you chose to go to his place—even if it may be on the other side of where you live.

he lets out a sigh. it’s clear that he’s disappointed by your words, but all he says is “okay,” as he gets up. “you can stay here for the night.” he stands in front of you in a shirt covered in patches of blood—it’s proof that his heart still holds a spot for you.

despite the venom that was laced in your words the night you cut ties with him, he leaves you a space for you to fill. it’s another choice you can make, but one you’re not sure if you should take.

dokyeom walks to the desk behind you and flips the lamp on. you swivel the chair so that you’re face-to-face with his slouched figure. you would’ve scolded him, but you’re not in the place to do so—not after what you two had.

but a part of you wishes to chide those words—hey, keep slouching and your back will get worse—for old time’s sake. it takes everything in you to hold back from saying the reminder, but it takes nothing to let your hand grip the back of his shirt. his movements halt.

as you sit up, you let your face bury into the arch of his back. the scent of his laundry detergent (it’s still the same smell of lavender) fills your nose, and you let your hands trail around his torso until they find their home on his waist. even after all these months, your hands knew where to rest—your spidey senses knew who to go to.

you feel his hands rest on your arms, his thumb drawing circles on your forearm. you breathe at the same pace as him. whenever his shoulders move up, yours follow. and you allow yourself to cherish just this once the familiar warmth of dokyeom. you let your soul mesh with his once more.

with closed eyes, you whisper, “i still look for you.” his thumb stops moving, and a shaky breath leaves your mouth. “i’m here because all i know is you.”

it’s half of a lie, but still a lie nevertheless. you shake your head against his shirt. “no,” you rescind. “i know i shouldn’t be here, and i had every chance to go back home, but,” you take a deep breath. “would you let me, just this once, be honest with you?”

your question hangs in the air—it’s not for him but for you. all the choices you took led to this moment, from embracing the persona you were handed through a single spider bite all the way to removing the mask in front of him.

dokyeom spins to face you. he stands in front of you with the remnants of you covering him, his shirt coated in hues of red and your blood dried up on his hands. the light behind him causes a shadow to paint his face.

but when he kneels once more in front of you, you get a good look at his features. he still looks like the same boy you first met—the same one you fell in love with—but you wonder if he was still the one you knew?

that is until his hand reaches toward your face. you hold your breath as it finds its spot on your cheek. but as his thumb grazes your cheekbone, a trembling breath leaves you. you gulp everything down—your fears and anxieties—so that you can finally be honest with dokyeom.

“i wanted to tell you who i really am.” a flicker of confusion flashes through his eyes. “and i know i’m not doing it in the best state,” a chuckle leaves your mouth. “but with every day that passes, and every injury i need to endure, i didn’t know when i would be able to tell you what went wrong with us.” a beat passes. “what went wrong with me.”

he shakes his head. “nothing’s wrong with you. what are you talking about?” a frown takes over his face. “i mean, you’re spiderman, for god’s sake.” you weren’t able to hold back the giggle that slipped from your lips.

but it wouldn’t be fair to just accept his words as is, not after the damage you’ve caused.

you let a hand rest on his, the one that rests on your cheek, and you curl your fingers so that you hold it. “i’m sorry that this is me.” the whisper is loud enough to fill the silence of his room. “i’m sorry that i crashed here all injured and left you to deal with the mess,” your eyes flicker to his bed. “especially on a night when you were resting.”

as soon as your eyes go back to dokyeom, you notice that he’s biting the inside of his cheek. “why are you telling me this?” it’s an honest question, one he couldn’t figure out the answer to. “we haven’t seen each other since you broke up with me.”

and he has every right to be confused with your sudden appearance. after all the months spent avoiding him in the halls while still seeking him on top of buildings, dokyeom was left with no clue as to why you come to him first in such a dire situation. why is it that you chose to reveal such an intimate part of yourself months after you two have drifted?

“do i have to say it?” you ask.

and he looks back into your eyes before saying, “it’s the least you can do.”

so you grab onto his hand, moving it so that it rests in yours. the sight of his fingers and palms covered in splotches of you fills your heart with warmth. it’s proof of the time he spent to patch you up. no matter who you may be—spiderman or not—you will forever be at his mercy.

“we can’t be together. it will only be another cycle of pain.” for both of you. as your eyes land back on his face, you spot sorrow coating his features.

“but i still do.” it’s an unfinished thought on his end. despite the frown you show, all he does is flash you a bitter smile. “i always have and always will.”

and it clicks.

“n-no, dokyeom,” you shake your head. “you can’t.”

he brings your hand close to his lips, letting it linger for a moment. “but you do,” he whispers into your fingertips. “right?”

even after revealing who spiderman truly is behind the mask, you expect dokyeom to rethink everything he knows. the months spent away from you should be enough reason to reconsider how much he knows of you now. but even if you two were to spend years apart, he would still read you as well as he does now.

“i can’t,” you choke out. “i can only offer so much, and you deserve so much more.”

he smiles at you—the same one you used to see every day, no matter what time of the day it may be—as his free hand reaches for your hair, tucking it behind your ear.

“i couldn’t care any less.”

you shake your head. it’s clear he doesn’t understand the gravity of it all; to be with you means to remain in constant danger. “no, dokyeom. you don’t understand. i broke up with you because i’m batshit scared of what will happen to you.”

because it seems to always occur—anyone you come close to becomes another target for your enemies. it’s already hard enough to handle the responsibility of being a masked hero, but you don’t think you could handle a possibility where dokyeom’s death would be on your hands.

but all he does is shake his head and says, “i don’t care. i still love you.”

you haven’t heard him say that to you in months. such a simple phrase causes warmth to fill your limbs and heat to rise to your cheeks. he still has the same effect on you after so long.

there are consequences that this conversation bears. you should have stood up and left as soon as he patched you up. it should’ve been obvious that the longer you stayed, the more you would pour out sentiments that you tried to keep under wraps—under the mask—and it seemed that dokyeom knew how to undo them even better than he did then.

and hearing dokyeom say those words has you falling into a perpetual cycle of torment, one that makes every day intolerable for you can only watch him from afar. but aren’t you already living it the more you deny what’s in front of you two?

so you only nod, and bring his hand close so you can feel his fingertips on your lips. with closed eyes, you whisper, “okay.”

it’s a testament to everything—one to his offer to let you sleep in this very room you once treated as yours, one to his confession that tilted your world’s axis, one to the very situation you’re in—and you’re sure he knows it, too.

he smiles as soon as your eyes flutter open. “let’s go to sleep.”

you know that sleep meant to be wrapped in his arms all while he would leave kisses on your temple. you don’t remember the last time you got enough rest, but you remember that the last time you slept in dokyeom’s arms was the last one you were able to fall into slumber at ease.

so you nod, allowing him to help you out of the chair. and he helps you through it all—shedding the suit off of you, cleaning you of all the grime from tonight’s adventure, and getting dressed in fresh clothes—until you two find your place on his bed.

nothing is said for the rest of the night. for once, you drift into slumber without any secrets stashed away.

taglist ➵ @kflixnet @blankjournal

#works of moni #kflixnet #bjnet #k-labels #seventeen #lee dokyeom #lee seokmin #dk #dokyeom #seventeen x reader #lee seokmin x reader #lee dokyeom x reader #seventeen imagines #lee dokyeom imagines #lee seokmin imagines #lee seokmin angst #lee dokyeom angst #lee dokyeom fluff #lee seokmin fluff

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arashrita · 2 months

Note

If you want angst I have one with a happy ending so.

In this the mc is depress because it seems like everyone forgotten their birthday and they didn't get an interview, a gift from a student or even gotten the dorm decorated, which leads her sadden but doesn't say anything and the boys feels guilty on learning what happen and try to make it up, upon learning they never celebrated their birthday at all.

A/N: I'm really sorry for being this late. Hope you are doing well. It was supposed to have angst. But it turned out kinda funny. This was rushed as well .Enjoy! 💜💜💜💜

Happy Birthday Dear Prefect! (F! Reader)

When you first found yourself in Twisted Wonderland, you didn't know what to do with that piece of information or yourself. All you wanted was to go back to your world and end the adventure that was forced upon you. Since then, a lot of time has passed. You made some friends for life, who really feel like a new family at times– yeah, minus the disastrous parts.

Maybe that's why when everyone forgot your birthday it stung. But you weren't going to make a fuss over that. You ate your lunch quietly as Ace and Deuce bickered like always. These days, Jack, Epel and even Sebek joins you guys at times. In a nutshell, not a day goes by without the boys being chaotic.

It was Ace who noticed the sad look on your face.

"Hey (Y/N), why the long face?"

Everyone quieted down fast after that and suddenly you were the center of their attention.

"Are you feeling unwell (Y/N)?"

Deuce asked in worry.

"No, guys, it's nothing, don't worry."

You replied.

"Then... wait... I feel like we are forgetting something important here!"

Deuce frowned.

"Huh... Wait, no, I just remembered... Prefect, isn't today your birthday?"

You sucked in a breath and the gears in their seemed to turn.

"OMG! I'm so sorry!"

"Myahhhh— hench-human, it's your birthday?!"

"There's no time to be sorry, Loosey-Deucey. We gotta decorate ramshackle and invite everyone and give our gifts— we have no time to waste!!!"

Ace was clearly panicking. You couldn't even get a word out. Suddenly, Deuce got up from his seat and yelled

"ATTENTION EVERYBODY! IT'S OUR PREFECT'S BIRTHDAY. ALL OF YOU ARE INVITED!!!"

He ignored the bewildered looks, the others shot at him and sat back down.

"No need for invitation cards anymore."

Later, after all of you were done with school, Ace and Deuce took it upon themselves to decorate the whole dorm.

"Guys, it's fine really—

"No, it's not fine!!"

"Myahhhh, what do we do with this balloons?!"

"You kids need a hand?"

You were startled by the new voice. You looked around and saw Jack, Ruggie and Leona standing there. When did they even come in? Who even left the door open?

"Huh, you will never get done with anything this way. Let the experienced step in."

Leona smirked and the others snickered.

"Do I get to have a say in this?"

"Nope, herbivore."

Ruggie was cleaning the table when a thought struck him.

"Wait, it's a birthday party. So, what about the birthday cake?"

"Trey said he will bring one, don't worry!"

Ace answered.

"Well, well, well. Everyone is worried about the decoration? What about the prefect? You wound me folks."

It was Vil. Wait... Vil?

"I told them to come (Y/N)!!"

Epel smiled at you.

"How can we not attend mon trickster's birthday?"

Rook chimed in.

"Come with me, sweet potato. Let's prepare you."

You could only nod as Vil dragged you upstairs. You could no longer understand what was going on. From no one remembering your birthday to suddenly the chaos— you couldn't wrap your head around it.

By the time Vil finished, you could hear so many voices from downstairs.

"There you go, my princess. You look absolutely stunning tonight. Tonight, may all eyes turn to look at you in wonder."

He kissed your forehead softly before stepping away.

"Thank you... Vil."

You were truly grateful. You couldn't help but smile brightly.

"Let's go now."

With that, the two of you headed downstairs.

"Hello, guys!"

All heads turned to look at you and you were surprised to see so many familiar people. Even Idia and Malleus were there!

"Oh my God! You look absolutely gorgeous!!"

"Y-you look cool, prefect."

"Oh my, our prefect looks so fine tonight."

"You are as beautiful as ever, child of man."

"You look ethreal, dear."

Endless compliments flied your way. All of your friends were there and you couldn't be happier.

"How about we cut the cake now?"

Trey chuckled.

"Yes!"

You cut the cake and the other chanted happy birthday. The way you felt couldn't be expressed with words. After the cake was cut and shared with everyone, the guys wished you again and gave you their gifts. Then, suddenly

"Wait, everyone. It's our prefect's birthday. She needs to give us a speech!"

Cater spoke up.

"Guys, I—

"No! Cater is right!"

"Say something for us (Y/N)!"

"Please!"

"No need to be afraid!"

"(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N)!!!!"

Well, you couldn't say no anymore. The way they were looking at you, it made you feel so warm and fuzzy inside.

"Alright! Alright, everyone! I will!"

Ortho handed a microphone to you as people started to quiet down.

"First of all, I would love to thank everyone who came here to celebrate my birthday. I will especially thank my best friends Ace, Deuce and Grim. Leona, thank you for stepping up to help us. Trey, thank you for making me this beautiful cake. Vil, thank you so much for helping me dress up. Azul, Jamil, thank you for helping out with the food. All the others— Jack, Epel, Riddle, Cater, Idia, Ortho, Ruggie, Jade, Floyd, Rook, Kalim, Silver, Sebek, Lilia and Malleus! Thank you, all of you! When I first found myself in Twisted Wonderland, all I wanted to do was go back. But, because all of you, I found great friends— a big family here. Yes, there are bad times, but with you guys by my side, I don't care. With you all, I want to continue my journey here. With you guys... I know I will never be alone...I know, everything will be fine..."

As people clapped and cheered, you knew everything will turn out well despite a bunch of problems you might face.

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day-drawn-blog · 6 months

Text

Part IX: if this is the path I must trudge. I'll welcome my sentence, give you my penance, jailer, jury and judge. - "Her sweet kiss"

Pairing: Astarion x Reader. This is set in Act I.

Tags: fluff I guess ....lots of talking.

Part I. Crowned light moon of mine - I found you too soon

Part II : Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight

Part III : maybe tonight I'll rest in peace.

Part IV : There is more to do and I still want to live.

Part V : our futures bound, our bodies known.

Part VI: These ain't my sins. I broke my chains.

Part VII: You are not mine and am I truly yours.

Part VIII : Your blood like wine, invites me in.

Part X : I can't go yet, don't let me die

______________________

After the long rest, starting from camp, into battle, Astarion was always around you. "Hello beautiful", "yes my sweet" ..."I did miss that face" .... Whether you were by yourself or with others, he seemed to be where you were. Sitting with his arms around your shoulders during the short rests. Bringing an extra piece of camp supply during supper.

It was all very... unsettling.

He wouldn't leave your side during combat. Nor after. After a while, it was becoming very obvious to everyone. You felt a knot in your stomach dreading the time you would have to confront others about his erratic behavior. Especially... shadowheart. Dammit. You should have had a chat with him. You felt angry.

You let yourself be swayed by lust ...

You were oiling you weapon at camp when Karlach approached you. "What's going on with Astarion?". You braced yourself, for the inevitable. "He seems...

infatuated with you! Because we thought he was enamored with... Her..." She gestured quietly towards Shadowheart a bit away.

You paused what you were doing.

But you dared not look her in the eye. Karlach was trying to look out for you. You knew. So why did you feel like the villain here. "Karlach....I ..." You started. Racking your brain... "You see..." Your pulse quickened. As your hands were trembled, you dropped the bottle of oil in your hand, and while trying to catch it, you cut yourself on your blade.

Blood...

"What's wrong, my love!! Are you alright?!" Astarion came running towards you. He knelt down to look at the wound. That's dangerous you thought....blood in front of Astarion....you couldn't predict what he would do! His alarming voice had attracted the folks nearby who all looked at you now. Your heart was racing.

Shadowheart was looking your way.

You dropped your head down and quickly tended to your wound. "Let me see, my sweet". Astarion took you hand. "No. Astarion....not now. " You withdrew. Everyone was looking at you. Expecting an explanation or so you thought. Were you just guilty? Perhaps they were just concerned ...

"Enough. What's going on with you two"

Karlach now demanded. Her arms crossed, frowning. "If there is something the party should know ...maybe you should let us, your friends know, " her voice softened. "Don't you think". You felt your tears coming up again. You felt a traitor to them. You clenched your hands right. Do you...tell them? That you ...that you love him?

Astarion stood up.

"Well, there is no easy way to do this. It was bound to happen sooner rather than later. This is as good a time as any. I... I have a secret. That I have been keeping from all of you. You see...I'm a ...vampire" Silence...you couldn't see their faces. You didn't know how they took it. But in that instant, you felt, grateful to Astarion. He took the worst of it for you.

You admired his bravery.

Knowing full well, he could be killed right there. "A vampire among us!!" Laezel was the first to break the silence. "But of course, the signs were all there" followed Gale. "I never thought I would see the day!! " Chimed Wyll. They took it surprisingly well, you thought to yourself, still looking at the ground.

"I better not wake up with holes in my neck"

Seemed to be the next thing everyone was eager to clarify. Shadowheart was the only one quiet. "Well ...that was quite the revelation. And I personally don't care what you are, Astarion. I am not afraid of you". Said Karlach, her voice reassuring. "But what I am most curious to know, is what our leader thinks of having you in our party".

You could feel all eyes on you.

"What do you think, captain?" She asked.

Suddenly, you remembered who you were, to these people gathered around....you felt your heart settle. Your pulse quieten. Your strength returned. They were all looking at you...for guidance. You promised to lead them to salvation after all. Yes, that's what you were...to them.

You stood up and faced them.

But before you could say anything... Astarion cut you off. "Oh....she knows. She was the first person....that I confessed to. And...for the record, it was me...who asked her to keep it a secret. Because...I was afraid...of well ...torches and pitchforks....you know, the usual" he tried to make light of his fear.

"You have known about it?!"

Everyone was surprised. All eyes were on you again. But you didn't care. You stood in your power. You authority was granted to you by them. "I have. And I did indeed to keep his secret. Because he promised me, he would never hurt any of you. And I think it's safe to say, he is a man of his word". You looked at him. He was shaken, scared...but he wouldn't admit it. "I decided that he can travel with us, provided he kept his fangs to himself. Only feed on animals, or bandits. Or ask ... Before he bit us".

You wanted to lend him your strength.

He shall receive sanctuary through your authority. You nodded at him. He let out a sigh. Of relief. "Thank you. All of you...and yes I promise. I shall not hurt any of you...without asking.". You looked at everyone. They seemed, relieved too. The initial shock had subsided. "Captain has been gracious enough to allow me to feed on her when I really needed it. "

What?

You flipped your head back at him. You fool! What have you done! You told them. You heard them gasp, audibly! "Is that why you have been so tired every now and then?! " Asked Gale. Perceptive. You grimaced, looking away. If only looks could kill, you gave Astarion a hard stare and turned to face them. "I can't ...turn someone away if they need my help". You said, honestly.

"So...." Shadowheart spoke for the first time....

"So....You have been laying with me, but going to captain....for ....blood" everyone perhaps anticipated this. You looked away. You hated yourself for having facilitated that. It wasn't entirely your doing, but you felt a traitor all the same. Your heart raced again. That dread, that knot in your chest...came back.

She turned and left.

You looked at Astarion. Shocked and fixed in his spot. What did he think would happen. "Don't you need to go after her?" You asked, annoyed. He didn't look at you..hesitating. Then slowly left to follow her.

What a mess.

Part X : I can't go yet don't let me die

#astarion romance #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #astarion angst #baldurs gate 3 #fanfic #fluff #vampire #astarion fanfic

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vioartemis · 1 year

Text

I’ll die with you (part 3)

(Tara Carpenter x fem! reader)

Summary: Your rest was short, another attack soon occurs, deadlier than the first one. Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 Warnings: blood, death of character, angst (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

“I swear I’m gonna need to bleach my eyes” you heard Sam say when you went downstairs with Tara, half an hour later

“Come on, we were fully clothed, you didn’t see anything” Tara rolled her eyes and sit at the table

“That’s not the point! Since when are you even doing that? You’re too young to-”

"I mean they're adults so..." Gale started

"Would you mind stop talking about our sex life?" you groaned, cheeks still red

"What do you want us to talk about?"

"I don't know, the weather, whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza..."

"Well that's an easy question" Sam declared, taking a slice of pizza and giving one to everyone

"I suppose we all agree they don't" you girlfriend said

"We do, indeed" Gale confirmed while you nodded

"Uh, no we don't"

A debate started, Sam against the three of you. It almost looked like a normal family dinner, a normal night. You nearly forgot you were the next target of a psycho killer. Until you all jumped when your phone rang.

Probably: Damian Walker.

You never realized you never gave him your phone number. Mindy or Chad probably did.

"It's okay, it's Damian"

"Y/n-" Tara tried to interrupt

But you already took your phone and walked away from the table, picking up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, how are you feeling tonight?"

"Tired and embarrassed, but other than that, pretty good"

"What...?"

"It's a long story" you sighed "Why do you call?"

"Oh, I wanted to know if you were having fun..." the slight sound of an electronic device could be heard "while I was gutting your friends like fishes."

All color vanished from your face.

"W-what...?"

Tara stood up hearing your shaking voice, worried. Whoever called you, they hang up without answering.

"Hello?! Please don't hurt them!" you cried

"Baby wha-"

"He's gonna kill Mindy and Chad we have to go!"

“No no no. We go, you stay here”

“And get attacked again? No thank you” you protested, dialing 911

When you arrived at Mindy and Chad’s not even five minutes later, the door was slightly opened. You could hear fight noises coming from inside. There was still a chance to save them.

You opened the door and rushed inside, baseball bat in hand. The first thing you saw was Ghostface, standing over the twins.

He slowly turned his head to look at you and did his signature blade-cleaning, before running away.

You were tempted to chase after him, but your friends mattered more. When you came closer to them, your heart dropped. There was blood everywhere.

Chad’s shirt was torn apart due to multiple stab. Mindy had her back against a wall, blood coming from her stomach.

Your own wounds burned at the sight, tears coming to your eyes. You couldn’t move, paralyzed.

“Shit…” you heard Sam say next to Chad

You had no idea how much time passed, but at one point Mindy coughed, causing your head to jolt in her direction. She was regaining consciousness!

Be fire you could realize it you were kneeling next to her, applying pressure on her wound.

“You’re gonna be okay, we called an ambulance, they should-”

Suddenly Damian brushed into the room.

“Oh my god-”

“Where the fuck were you?”

“I- I went to the bathroom a-and someone knocked me out… I- I just woke up”

You looked him up and down. Blood was running down his face from his forehead. But he could have done it himself.

“Stay the fuck back” Mindy said when he tried to come closer

"N-no I- I'm not... It's not me I swear... Y/n y-you believe me right...?"

You really wanted to. But last time he didn't have an alibi, and now...

"I'm sorry..."

You could see how broken he was hearing your words. Maybe he wasn't the killer after all. Or he was a good actor, which wasn't to exclude.

You were waiting in the waiting room, Tara sitting on your lap and caressing your hair gently in an attempt to reassure you. You were starting to believe her when the doctors came.

You all got up immediately, heart beating faster than ever.

"Mrs Meeks should be okay, but she needs rest"

"And Chad?" Sam asked

"I'm... sorry. We did our best but... we couldn't save him..."

You had to sit back down, in shock. You never thought that would happen again. You thought losing friends was over. You should've known it would end up this way, with Ghostface's return.

Maybe you were just in denial. Believing if you convinced yourself it wouldn't happen everything would be fine. But nothing was fine.

The 2022 massacre left a indelible mark on you. The current events only reopened the scar you thought had healed.

Maybe if you had stick all together he would still be alive. If you had been all together Ghostface wouldn't have tried anything. If you had left this stupid town when you could...

Maybe it was all your fault after all.

You were the first target, but you survived. No first targets survived before Tara. And you weren't even sure they wanted her dead at that moment.

Maybe the killer wanted to make you suffer before killing you. Maybe it was all part of their plan to let you live. Maybe they were about to destroy everything you had. Maybe-

You felt hands on your face and looked down to see Tara, concern written on her face. She brushed your cheeks with her thumbs softly. It was only then that you realized that you were crying.

That was the moment Lexi chose to arrive, breathing heavily and sweating. She must have run here.

"I- I'm sorry I had piano lesson- I just- I just saw your texts-" she took a deep breath "Mindy- is she going to be okay? And- and Chad?"

You didn't have the strength to tell her. Not now, it was still to fresh. Instead you broke down in your girlfriend's arms. You could swear she was crying too.

A loud noise made you tilt your head up. Lexi had pinned Damian to the wall, gripping him by the collar of his shirt.

"What did you do to them? You were here to why didn't you help?"

"I- I got knocked out...! I already told them...!" he made a circle toward you with his arm "L- Lexi I swear I didn't- I can't breath can you-"

"I don't fucking believe you. That's easy pretending you passed out."

Her grip only grew tighter. Damian's face started to become red. He was struggling against the blonde.

Sam had to force them appart, holding a furious Lexi away from the poor boy trying to catch his breath.

After everyone had calmed down, the police arrived and questioned the group. They didn't seem to believe Damian's alibi either.

"Maybe we should take him into custody for a little while? Just to make sure he's not, you know, the killer?" a deputy asked the sheriff

"We can't do that without evidences, that would be abusing of our power as representants of the law-"

"Do it" all head turned to the boy "T- take me into custody, you'll see it's not me. If it's the only way I can prove my innocence... I'll do it"

"You sure about that son?"

"Y-yeah"

"Okay then... come with me" the deputy said after the sheriff nodded

"The hospital is secure, we have police officers at each floor, you should be safe here. Don't go out, don't stay alone until morning. Understood?"

You weren't totally sure you could believe him. You remembered well how it ended last time. Ghostface always managed to pass past the security, why would that change now?

When the police left, you were allowed to see Mindy. She was devastated. Fortunately, her girlfriend was here for her.

Yours was holding your hand tight, fingers intertwined with yours. She knew it could've been you as much as you knew it could've been her. At the moment, you were so glad she was safe.

But it was just temporary. It always was.

Ghostface knew when to hit you. Not too soon after the previous attack, not too long after. Just as you started to think it would get better -or at least not worse. Just when hope started coming back.

The moment it hurt the most.

"Can you guys stay here for the rest of the night...?"

"Of course, we're not leaving you alone after that..."

Everyone started to move things around to get confortable for the night. You and Tara sat on the floor, on a blanket, in a corner.

You could hear soft snores, your little group falling asleep one after another. You didn't know how they could sleep in that situation. You couldn't.

Every time you closed your eyes, Ghostface appeared before you, ready to kill all your friends one by one.

You watched as Tara was sleeping on your shoulder. She seemed peaceful. You played with her hair, trying you imagine you were in your room, and it was a normal night.

you didn't realize she was awake, caught into your daydream, until she spoke.

"Are you okay...?" she whispered

You jumped a little.

"I... don't know... you?"

"Same... I just- I just hoped it wouldn't happen again... It's stupid but- I thought it would be different..."

"It's not stupid... I would rather say unrealistic... but- that's horrible but... I'm glad it wasn't you... I don't know what I would do if- if you-"

The words got stuck in your throat, tears blurring your vision again. The simple thought of losing her was unbearable.

"Hey..." she whipped your tears off of your face gently "It's not going to happen okay? I'm not dying, not now. I swear"

She kissed you tenderly, trying to whip your worries away, hand still holding yours. You kissed her back, like it was the last time.

Because it might be. We never know.

"Try to rest a little okay...?"

You nodded, resting your head on hers once she got back in her previous position against you.

You tried not to think about what just happened, or how it could get worse. You tried to empty your mind, only leaving one thought there: Tara.

But it was always when you thought the situation wouldn't get worse that it does.

You should have known the worst was yet to come.

And it would come fast.

[Previous part] || [Next part]

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x fem reader #scream #scream 5

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softlyspector · 1 year

Note

Hello there!

If it’s not too much trouble, I would like to request prompt no. 2 “Using your hand to lift up their face to check for any injury, when you notice how pretty their eyes are, causing you to blush” and prompt no. 8 “Staying the night in case they need your help, being asked to sleep on the bed instead of the couch/floor” with the Moon Knight system (or any of the Moon boys of your choice, really)?

No pressure though love, thank you so much for sharing your stories with us! ❤️❤️❤️

Thank you! Here's Jake and Steven + some tenderness

They let you fuss over them.

Really, they like the attention, all three of them like the weight of your gaze, the careful brush of your fingers. You treat them like they're delicate, but in a way that's good.

Like you aren't afraid they're broken or breaking, but that you will if something happens to them.

You frown, working a washcloth over their face, the material a rusted red when you pull it away.

Steven follows you with his eyes, watching the slow, sure, steady movement of your fingers. Hands that even Marc has never doubted, felt fear of.

You rinse out the cloth, pink washing down the sink, before you turn and tilt Steven's face up. "Look at the state of you," you murmur. "Jake promised me you would be careful. What happened?"

Steven doesn't have an answer for you, his mouth falling open at the sight of you, so worried even as you gripe at them. He meets your eyes, watches the shift and sparkle, watches you avert your gaze, flustered as you drag your thumb across the cut on his cheek.

"We can't always help it," Steven says gently, taking your hands in his. "Really, we aren't trying to get hurt. We don't like seein' you upset."

You smile, meet his gaze again. "I know you don't," you tug on his shirt. "Off."

He shifts, shucking out of the shirt so you can fuss over another cut along his shoulder.

Jake is grumbling, jealousy peaking because he'd been the one to sustain the injuries and here you were - sweet and kind and caring - and not looking at him. Of course, he doesn't deserve it, he's glad Steven is getting the attention, but he'd really like to be the one getting patched up for once, held for once.

Marc is quiet, walled off from them, guilt surging whenever he focuses on you too closely.

Steven catches at your wrist when you move to clean the cut. Your eyes snap to his, that rattled look overcoming your features again, like they fluster you. You fidget, curl your fingers back around his. "You okay?"

"We're alright, love," Steven reassures you. "Really."

"I'd like to stay tonight," you blurt. "I know you heal quickly, but it'll make me feel better."

"We'll never say no to that, darling," he dips his head to kiss your palm. "Thank you for taking care of us."

"I'm not going to say 'anytime' because I'd rather not have to," you turn and reach for the saline to clean the cuts, then dab ointment onto the bruises, the shallower scrapes.

Jake is vibrating, positively irritated now.

Of them all, he's the most starved for touch. He'd hated it at first, until he hadn't anymore.

Before Steven can think better of it, he let's himself be pushed away from the front.

"Mi amor," Jake says, relishing the kiss of your skin against his, the very careful handling you show him. "I'm sorry."

"What happened?"

Jake shrugs, nonchalant. "I do what I have to."

"As long as you come home," you touch his cheek and he leans into it, puts the weight of his head fully in your palms. "That's all that matters."

It's even better when you lean your forehead into his, the act weirdly intimate. He sucks in a breath, inhales the scent of your skin, the coconut smell of your lotion, the lingering iron of their blood.

You don't kiss him but that's okay, because your hands pet along his shoulders, over the wounds that should sting. But your hands are clean and strong and good, and it's enough.

"Okay," you pull away. "I think I'm done with you."

Something in him sinks.

You continue, "I don't know if you heard, but I'd like to stay. Just for tonight. For me. I know you can protect yourselves."

Jake isn't used to someone wanting to protect him, worrying about him. And of course he wants you to stay.

You hand him a clean shirt, gathering up the bloody one Steven had taken off. "You should change and shower." You frown, "And you'll need to reapply the cream-,"

"You can do it."

You pause, blink at him for a long moment. "Of course," you smile, brush one hand against his forehead. "Shower. I'll make up the couch."

"Couch? No. Bed."

Again, you seem confused, like Jake might want you any less than the other two. "Are you sure?"

"Sí, corazón," he answers.

You tilt your head, the start of a smile on your lips. "Okay. It'll be easier to monitor you," you coo, touching him again, the curve of his jaw.

"Exactly," he agrees, leaning into the warmth of you again.

Later, when he's tucked against you, your fingers curling through the still damp curls of his hair, he'll think that getting hurt is almost worth it, if it got them this.

#steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight drabble

651 notes · View notes

roselensedeyes · 7 months

Text

Be still, my foolish heart - part two

Pairing: elriel, elain x azriel

Word count: 5k

NSFW: yes

Hello everyone!

Here's finally part two! It's shorter than the first part, but don't worry! I have a multichaptered elriel fic releasing during Azriel's week. It features Elain as a single mom, and I'm super excited to finally share it with you!

Here's the link to Part one and the link to AO3! I hope you enjoy!

Uri’s arms were tight around Elain’s neck as Azriel gathered both of them in his arms and shot in the sky.

Although his flying had improved greatly in the month since his first flying lesson with his new father, the flight from the town house to the river house was still too arduous for Uri’s recently-healed wings.

Not to mention how nervous he was for tonight’s dinner.

Elain and Azriel had tried to reassure him that everything would be fine, yet his heart still beat too rapidly, his hands felt clammy and shaky, and he still kept picking at his nails.

He was fidgeting in Elain’s arms, trying to assess how long until their descent. Not that he had any actual idea; after all, this was going to be the first time he visited the river house, the first time he met the High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court, and their inner circle.

“Don’t fret, sweet boy,” his mother soothed. “Everyone will love you. I heard there might be presents with your name on them, too,” she whispered, conspiratorially. Even the promise of gifts wasn’t enough to draw away his anxiety. So Elain settled on rubbing his back, hoping the comfort of her embrace would help calm her son down. It did, a little.

“We’re here,” Azriel announced.

She heard Uri take in a deep breath as they made their way down the path that led to the entrance. Elain assessed the state of the flowers she’d planted a few weeks back; she made a mental note to remind her sister and brother-in-law how often some of the flowers needed to be watered.

Uri was holding both of his parents’ hands as they walked. When they were a few feet from the door, their son stopped dead in his tracks.

“What’s wrong?” Az asked him.

“I want to go home,” the Illyrian boy replied quietly.

“Can I ask why?”

Uri didn’t say anything, his gaze fixed on the ground. He shook his head, once.

Elain and Azriel exchanged a look, before Az got down to Uri’s eye level. He gently lifted his chin. “If you want to go home, we can and we will,” he said firmly, holding Uri’s gaze. “Though I know your aunts and uncles really, really want to meet you.” The boy’s eyes gleamed with uncertainty at that. “All week, your mom and I got so many questions about you from our family.”

Some of the nervousness had eased off from their son’s face the more Azriel spoke. He glanced behind his father’s back, toward the door. His eyes widened.

Elain looked at it, too, and saw Cassian staring at them from the window near the entrance. She rolled her eyes, and tried her best to hold in her laughter. Especially as she saw Amren’s smaller figure trying to take a peek from behind Cassian’s much bigger frame.

Her mate had noticed them, too, and snorted. Uri glanced back at him. “I told you,” he shrugged. “They’re really excited to meet you.”

With one last look at the now-clear window, his hands in each of his parents’, Uri took the final steps and entered the river house.

Azriel watched as his son played with his cousin Nyx and his uncle Cassian. He wasn’t sure what game it was, but as Uri laughed, loudly, again, he found he didn’t care much. As long as he was happy and safe, he let him have his space and possibility to explore himself, to find out who he was, what his likes and dislikes were.

As he sat on the end of the sofa, his lovely mate on his side in the middle of what appeared to be an intense conversation with her sister Nesta, Azriel thought back on tonight’s dinner and how smoothly it went.

He’d had no doubts that Uri would adapt quickly — even less that his family would wound up loving his son — yet he didn’t have the words to convey the emotion that overtook him when Uri had finally relaxed his body completely, and hugged Feyre of his own will.

Az’s High Lady hadn’t let him go for a long while. Nesta had tried to take him from her, but Feyre refused, claiming her favorite nephew needed her love a while longer. Nevermind that he was her only nephew, a fact she waved off when her older sister pointed it out.

When they’d gotten through the threshold, Uri had been pale with apprehension. Rhys had answered the door, and promptly stopped his new nephew from bowing to him. “You’re my family. I never ask that of my family,” he’d explained gently. The young Illyrian had blushed, but before his embarrassment could escalate, Rhys said, “We weren't sure what you liked. Your mother and father weren’t really helpful with that, so if you don’t like it we can change it.” Then, the High Lord of the Night Court gestured behind him, towards a pile of presents.

Spring was approaching, yet it felt like Solstice. “They’re all yours,” Rhys nodded at Uri, whose jaw dropped open in wonder. He pointed at his chest in disbelief. Rhys smiled and, grabbing his hand, led him to the gifts. They were from Rhysand and Feyre, Cassian and Nesta, from Mor and even from Amren. He’d gotten toys and clothes, shoes and jewelry. Cassian had gotten him Illyrian fighting leathers, promising him to be the one to train him when he was ready. Uri had glanced at Azriel at that, murmuring he wanted his dad to train him. His heart had warmed in his chest, and he’d looked smugly at his brother. The latter had rolled his eyes at him, before grudgingly amending that Az could train with them, too.

His son had been shy for the majority of the dinner, until Nyx had woken up and demanded to play with his new friend. After that, any tension that still held Uri in its grip vanished. His quietness had released him, and Az was now rubbing his temples, sensing a headache forming.

Elain’s delighted laugh brought him back to the present. He looked at her now. His mate was the most beautiful in all of Prythian. He was a lucky bastard. He wondered if he’d ever think he deserved her. He shook his head. How could he, so broken and sullen, deserve someone as perfect as her? Elain’s beauty went beyond a pretty face. No, hers manifested when she cared for their son, when she looked after her garden and baked her family’s favorite desserts. It came out when she used her power to help the court she belonged to, when she used her weaknesses to create something greater. It showed when she kissed him, soft and sweet, in their bed late at night, early in the morning in the bath, nothing between their naked bodies. When he was inside her, the loving sounds she made.

No, he could never deserve something as magnificent as she was.

Azriel was still staring at the love of his life as she looked him over her shoulder. Elain smiled softly at him, light dancing in her eyes. I love you, she mouthed. He wanted nothing more than to whisk her away to find a hidden alcove and show her with his mouth and body how far his love for her went.

A shadow appeared in front of him. Not one of his own. Rhys.

Things between them had been tense for a while, since that fateful night over a year ago, in the office where Rhys had forbidden him to be with Elain. Even after their mating bond had snapped into place, things between them hadn’t gone back to how they were before. It made Az feel guilty that he couldn’t let that sense of betrayal go.

A week after they’d accepted the mating bond, when the frenzy and animalistic instincts had finally allowed them to be around people who weren’t their son, they’d announced it to their family.

Azriel could still remember the tension in his body, how cold and clammy his hands were, how Elain’s were shaking, the rapid beat of her heart as they told their family. Feyre and Nesta had been overjoyed. They’d been worried about their sister ever since she’d told them about how she and Lucien intended to cleave their bond. It was something never-been-done before, their fears well understandable. They’d thrown their arms around her, hugging her so tight with their love and happiness. So was Cassian, while Amren only smirked and sipped from her cup. Mor had looked at them with a strange gleam in her eyes, but had smiled and congratulated them.

Yet they weren’t the ones who worried them. It was Rhys, Rhys who had stayed silent while the others expressed their felicitations, and who now was looking at them without a hint of what he was feeling. Az had been ready to grab Elain and take them back to the town house, to Uri, who they’d thought best to leave at home with Nuala and Cerridwen for this meeting. Then Rhys had smiled at them, and had wished them a happy union for eternity.

Azriel had frozen as Elain had thanked her brother-in-law and kissed him on the cheek. Az’s brother had noticed his reaction, though, and a while later, while everyone was distracted, had taken him aside and told him, “I am sorry, brother, if I made you feel like your feelings didn’t matter to me. They do, they always have and always will. I shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

And that had been that. They’d exchanged a look of understanding, before they hugged and went back to their family. Where Elain and Az had dropped a bigger news: they’d adopted a child.

Yet things still hadn’t smoothed between them yet. He guessed some things needed time to heal and grow anew, and perhaps this was one of those.

“Hi,” Rhys said now. “It looks like Uri is enjoying himself.”

Az smiled and nodded his agreement. “He does. Now he has a friend to play with, as does Nyx.”

Rhys gave him a pleased smile. “They do. It’s what I always saw in my mind, as I worked to build this court into something I was proud of. Our children being friends, playing without a care in the world.”

Azriel thought on his words, and realized it was the truth. His son, and any other children he might have one day, would never again feel unsafe or scared. And it was thanks to him, to Elain, to Rhys and the Night Court.

Elain interlaced her fingers with his in that moment, as if she could hear his thoughts. He sent his gratitude and love down their bond, and felt a kiss through it.

Their family had insisted, though it hadn’t taken much convincing.

As she walked down the aisle in a beautiful strapless, champagne, flowy dress, Elain thought back to her girlhood, when she used to dream and plan her wedding. There was always a handsome young Lord at her side, but reality had given her someone else. Someone her young, human mind couldn’t envision. He was much better than any of her fantasies.

The love of her life, her husband, was looking at her as she made her way to him. Elain had thought they’d have a mating ceremony, but Azriel had surprised her by telling her he wanted to have a human wedding.

“We’re already mated,” he’d explained. “All fae know we are. Now I want the humans to know you’re mine, too. Plus, I want to put my ring on your finger,” he’d shrugged.

She’d rolled her eyes at that, though the smile on her face was huge. She’d kissed him, and kissed him some more when he told her he knew she had their wedding planned already, and wanted to hear it.

The reality was pretty faithful to what she had in mind.

Elain reached her soon-to-be-husband, stared him in the eyes the entire time the High Priestess talked, when they recited their vows, when they slid their rings on each other’s fingers. Only closed them when they shared the kiss that sealed their union.

The rest of the evening went by in a blur. They danced, laughed, ate. They celebrated their marriage with their family, but most importantly with their son. Uri had perhaps been more excited than them.

But now they were back at their home, alone. In the morning, they would leave for the continent, where they’d spend a week there traveling from town to town. It was Elain’s dream, and her perfect mate was about to crown it.

But that was tomorrow, tonight their first as husband and wife. It felt foolish to be nervous. It technically wasn’t different from the others, from their first as mates. Still, her stomach was fluttering, her heart beating rapidly in her chest.

Azriel was looking at her, hunger and love battling in his eyes. Elain swallowed before she turned around, giving him her back.

“Will you take off my dress?”

Nothing— He neither said nor did anything for a few beats.

Then she felt him walk over, his scarred hands landing on her nape, where the zipper lay. The descent was agonizingly slow. Goosebumps appeared on her back, her arms, her neck. When the zipper met its end, she could have sworn his little finger grazed the top of her bottom. She shivered, arousal making her eyes roll in the back of her head.

She heard him take a deep breath. In a flash, she was against the wall, his mouth pressing against her hard, hot, wet. She matched his fire.

Elain felt his hardness against her pelvis, thrusting against her, seeking relief. She bit his lip, hard enough that he reared back. “Take your wife to bed, husband.”

His eyes flashed as he did just that. He stripped both of them. Then, his head was between her legs, tasting her wetness. He groaned as she gripped his hair as she thrusted against him, her legs finding their place on his shoulders. She gasped as she found her pleasure, but he wasn’t done.

In one single push, he was inside her. A moan wrenched out of her, loud, and she would have been embarrassed if he wasn’t already sliding in and out, reaching that sweet spot deep inside her. His mouth was wet against her throat, making goosebumps appear on her skin, before sliding down to her breasts.

When he bit a hardened peak, white stars appeared behind her eyelids. She soon heard his answering groan, before he fell on top of her, breath haggard.

They kissed, slow at first, quickly became passionate and bruising. Lust and devotion, fervor and tenderness. “I love you,” she whispered to him.

“I’ve been in love with you since the moment I laid eyes on you. I didn’t know at the time that that was what it was, yet now I look back and feel like a fool for not realizing it sooner. I will never be able to explain the depth of the emotion I feel for you. You are my sun, my moon, and my guiding star,” he said, not once tearing his gaze from hers.

Elain had managed not to spill any tears all day, yet now they escaped freely, rolling down her cheeks. She’d once thought Graysen would be the one to murmur these loving words to her, that he’d be her husband. She was the real fool, here.

She kissed him again, trying to tell him without words how much she loved him.

They fell asleep while he still was inside her, embraced tightly together.

Elain and Azriel had a secret.

They didn’t mean to keep it much longer – not that they could, even if they wanted to. But, they weren’t ready to share it with other people yet. They wanted it to be theirs for just a little longer, the unexpectedness of it still so surreal. Elain smiled each time she thought about it, though the knowledge stayed at the back of her mind constantly. It wasn’t something she could forget, something she didn’t want to forget. She smiled again now, before it nervously fell away.

Yet the main reason why they hadn’t told their family yet was another. And he was staring at them right now.

Elain’s leg kept jumping up and down as she dined with her family. Her churning stomach didn’t want her to introduce any food inside it, but the concern on her mate’s face was enough to make her force some of the stew down her throat.

Uri’s beautiful hazel eyes looked up at her, apprehension swirling in them. She tried to smile, but by the way his eyebrows furrowed even more, she knew it didn’t do anything to smooth his nerves.

“What’s wrong?” He asked them, putting down his spoon.

Azriel looked at her before replying, “Nothing is wrong, baby. Keep eating your stew.”

But Uri only shook his head. “You’re lying. Why are you lying? You hate it when I lie, so why are you lying to me now?”

The corners of Elain’s mouth threatened to quirk at the habit he’d picked up when he was five. Even though he was almost eight, it was still something he hadn’t outgrown. Maybe he would never outgrow it, instead become a defining trait of his personality.

Taking a deep breath, she met her son’s eyes. “Nothing is wrong, but we need to tell you something.”

Azriel went still at her side. Biting her lip she nodded, more to herself than to Uri.

“We have some exciting news.” Az grabbed her hand. “We haven’t told anyone, yet, because we wanted you to be the first to know.”

“I’m pregnant.”

Her words were met with silence. She watched as her son’s features slowly fell, her own smile equally dropping. She looked at her mate, lost.

“You’re going to be a big brother. Aren’t you excited?” Azriel asked him.

In answer, Uri began eating again. Elain placed a hand against her chest, where she could have sworn she could feel her heart breaking underneath.

She remembered how excited she was when her own parents had told her she was getting a new sibling. She’d prayed for another sister, who she could dress and have tea parties with. Feyre hadn’t really enjoyed them, though, so once again Elain’d had to play by herself.

“You’re going to have someone to play with all the time, isn’t that exciting?” She tried a different tactic.

He only shrugged. Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them away. “Is there– Do you… not want a sibling?” Her voice was quiet, tremulous.

Again, Uri only shrugged. Az cleared his throat. “You know you can always come to us for anything, right? You know we’ll always love you, no matter what?”

He nodded. “I’m finished. Can I go play for a while before going to sleep?”

Her heart beating rapidly, lost for words, Elain only managed a nod. He was out of his chair before her next blink.

When she was sure he was far away, she let out a quiet sob. Azriel’s arms were immediately around her. “Shh, my love. It’s alright.”

Elain shook her head. “No, it’s not. You saw how he reacted, Az. He’s not happy about this,” she said, gesturing to her still-flat stomach. It would take a while before it’d begin to swell, Madja had said.

Azriel had insisted she visit the healer as soon as he noticed the change in her scent. It happened one lazy, early morning. His kisses had woken her up, and when she opened her eyes it was to the sight of Azriel’s filled with unshed tears. He’d held her in his arms, his hand resting against her belly. “My love,” he’d whispered. “You’ve given me too great a gift.”

They’d made love, gently, their hands held together, their wet cheeks touching. their breaths mingling. They told each other how far their love went, not just with their words, but with their hands, their bodies.

Yet, now that quiet joy she’d felt that day threatened to crumble in the face of Uri’s dismay.

“He only needs to come to terms with this. It’s a big change, and considering where he comes from, it makes sense that he needs some time before he can fully embrace this new adventure of sorts,” said Azriel.

Elain nodded, praying to the Mother that he was right.

He wasn’t right.

Azriel and Elain laid on the couch, going through reports Rhys had sent over. Nuala and Cerridwen, with the occasional help from Azriel, had trained her in the past few years, and now she proudly called herself the Spymistress of the Night Court. Her visions helped with their missions, although with the recent peace they’d reached those missions were now very few and far between.

Elain let out a yawn and snuggled closer to her mate, who dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Let’s go put our son to sleep, my love. Then we can go to bed, too.” He gently lifted her, sorting the papers and placing them on top of a shelf, where Uri couldn’t reach them. He knew better than to fly inside the house. Not that there was enough space, anyway.

Their boy hadn’t come downstairs since dinner. They’d hear him move at times, but mostly he was being quiet. Maybe Az was right, Elain mused, maybe he just needed to brood and work through his emotions and thoughts before he could understand how he truly felt about having a new sibling. After all, he’d been an only child his whole life. When he did figure out his true feelings, he’d come to them, and they’d discuss and face them like the real family they were.

Sure, it would devastate her if Uri was unhappy about his sibling, but she was sure talking about it would make him see how great of a news it was. Sentiment reinforced, she straightened her spine and got up, following her mate up the stairs.

That was when an eerie sensation had her go still. Her stomach clenched. She gripped Az’ hand, her eyes searching for Uri’s door. Az turned to her, a question written in his gaze. “What’s wrong, my love? Is it a vision?” They —Uri included— had gotten used to her sudden visions. She had better control now than when her powers first manifested, could block them or make them come forward when she deemed it best, yet when the vision was too strong, the message too important to be ignored, there was nothing she could do but submit to it. It used to frighten Uri, while it made Azriel restless, but now it was familiar, accepted.

Elain shook her head even as her grip on Az’s hand tightened. “Uri— It has to do with Uri.”

He didn’t question her — he never did. Her mate simply turned around and marched toward their son’s bedroom.

He knocked, once, twice, three times. Only then did he open the door

The sight nearly knocked the breath out of her lungs.

All of Uri’s clothes were no longer in his wardrobe. Instead, they were all over his bed and the floor, where the child in question was sitting, carefully folding his clothes. He looked up at them, then went back to placing the shirt in his hand in a big, black bag.

“What’s the meaning of this,” Azriel asked, though it was more of a demand than a request.

“I’m packing my stuff, and then I’ll leave,” Uri answered, and though Elain could tell he meant to sound collected, the tremors in his voice gave him away.

“What,” she gasped.

“I’m trying to be as fast as I can, I promise,” Uri rushed out to say. “I am not going to take all of the clothes, either. I know you’ll need them for the baby,” he said.

A shudder went through her body. The thought of having a brother or sister was so awful for Uri that he planned on leaving them.

“Can I take my toys with me? I would like something to play with at the orphanage, unless you want to give them to your baby,” he explained, and he sounded so calm, like this was a fact nothing and no one could change.

A sob wrenched out of her. Uri looked up at her in surprise, his eyes wide.

“You are our baby,” Azriel said, intensely. “If you think we’ll allow you to go away, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Uri’s brows furrowed in confusion. “But—But you’re having your own baby.”

Elain tilted her head. “You already are my own baby. Just because I didn’t bore you doesn’t mean you are not. It pains me to think I ever made you feel like I don’t love you from the deep well of my heart.”

He quickly shook his head. “No, I– I know you love me. It’s only that…” He trailed off, looking down at the ground, almost like he couldn’t bring himself to say the actual words.

Then Elain made the decision to sit down on the floor with him. Azriel quickly followed. She laid a hand against his cheek. It was still baby soft, one of the few remembrances of his childhood. “What’s troubling you, my sweet boy?”

Uri’s face crumpled. And then he sobbed. Elain’s hands wrapped around his head and brought it against her chest. She swayed back and forth, murmuring soothing words, stroking his hair. Az rubbed his back.

“I don't want you to stop loving me!” Uri bellowed out, like he’d restrained himself from speaking the words out loud for so long that now they fought to get out as loudly as possible. “I want you to love me forever, I don’t want to leave,” he yelled.

Elain’s eyes watered, and she wanted to cry, too, yet her words were steady and unfaltering as she said, “Listen to me, Uri.” She lifted his head up, staring right in her son’s red, shining eyes. “That will never happen. You’re not going anywhere. You are our son, and you’ll live with us forever.” She left feathery-light kisses on his swollen eyes. “And then one day, many, many years from now, you’ll decide it’s the right time to move out and create your own family, and I’ll be inconsolable for days on end, and you’ll roll your eyes and call me dramatic, which in turn will make me cry even more, but deep down I’ll be happy and supportive of your next adventure, even though you won’t be able to tell at first as I’ll be trying to lock you in your room—”

Her son’s giggles were the best sound she’d ever heard.

“You can’t say that, mom!” He admonished, even though laughter still colored his tone.

She smiled, and caught Az’s gaze. The Spymaster’s own eyes were glassy from unshed tears. Yet even that wasn’t enough to conceal the love reflecting in them, the love for her and their son. He cleared his throat, once, twice, before he said, “Uri, the baby your mom is carrying will be your brother or sister, do you understand? We will love you the same. You’re as much our child as this one.” He pointed at Elain’s still flat belly.

Uri looked at her stomach for the first time for a long time. Then he nodded.

She was aware the issue wasn’t resolved just like that, that it would take some time for Uri to truly believe it. Still, she peppered his face until he was gasping for air.

When his giggles quieted down, when he was nestled between them in their bed – no way was he sleeping by himself tonight. His room was a mess, anyway. — his Illyrian stuffed toy in his embrace, Uri sighed. “I hope it’s a girl. I want a sister.”

Azriel and Elain looked at each other over him. Azriel inclined his head, a silent agreement. They fell asleep with their smiles plastered over their faces.

Uri grumbled when they told him he now had a brother. Over the past ten months, he’d tell everyone he met he was really excited to meet his new baby sister. No matter how many times his parents tried to prepare him from getting disappointed. He was dead set on getting a new baby sister.

And now he had a brother.

“Mom, it’s so unfair,” he whined now. “I wanted a sister.”

Elain had just given birth. She was tired and in pain, though the tonic Madja had given her subdued it. Yet she was the happiest she’d ever been. Uri was nestled against her side, her mate on the other, her new child suckling at her breast.

She’d dreamed of it as a girl. It’d seemed an impossible dream when she was thrown into the Cauldron, the months of depression and heartbreak that had followed it. Yet it was now before her eyes.

It was exactly as she’d envisioned it. Perhaps even better.

“I know, baby,” Az echoed his statement. “But we love him, right? We’ll protect him?”

Uri rolled his eyes. “Of course. He’s my little brother,” he said.

Elain smiled. “You better. He already loves you so much. He told me.” As though he had heard her, the baby blindly reached out his hand. It landed on Uri’s cheek, a light touch that one might have called a caress. Uri kissed his brother’s palm. “I love you, Adi. Please grow up quickly. I want to play with you.”

“He loves you, too, baby.” Azriel pressed a kiss against his two sons’ foreheads. “Plus, next time you might get a little sister.”

Uri’s eyes sparkled with mischief at that. Elain shook her head, her smile still shining on her face.

It took two more tries before Uri finally got his long-awaited sister. That day, his scream of joy could be heard from all over Prythian.

#elriel #elriel fic #elriel fanfic #elriel fanfiction #elain archeron #azriel #elain x azriel #elain archeron x azriel #azriel x elain #azriel x elain archeron #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #pro elriel

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reginaaxxwrites · 8 months

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The Moon Is A Curse (Remus Lupin)

I don't know what inspired me to write this one-shot. I was just sad one day and decided to sort my feelings out by writing this story. And while I was looking at the moon, I thought of Remus.

I hope you guys enjoy this one-shot as much as I enjoyed writing it.

*****

Warning: none just fluff and angst.

Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

*****

Astronomy class is my favorite subject. Studying the moon and the stars. How the stars guide every traveler to their destination. And the moon. Oh, the moon. I love how it shines brightly. Many things are fascinating about taking this class. It's also peaceful because it is taken at night.

"It's a full moon tonight." Lily Evans mentioned as while we were eating dinner at the Great Hall.

"Indeed, it is. The more reasons I look forward to taking Astronomy class." I commented in excitement before taking a bite of my cornbread.

"You're such a Ravenclaw." My friend smiled at me.

"Oh shut it. You would've fitted in Ravenclaw."

"True. But Gryffindor does fit me." She giggled.

"Why's that?"

"I'm good at judgment, Y/N. For example, I thought you were a bitch." I raised my eyebrow at him. A grin plastered on her face like she was about to laugh at my face.

"And???"

"I stand corrected." I threw a grape at her while she laughed. "Hey! I still proved a point!"

"Shove off, Lily." I rolled my eyes at her. "Now I understand why Potter fancies you." It was her turn to roll her eyes.

"Oh don't even start."

Soon after the four boys entered the Great Hall and sat at our table. James Potter with his messy hair, Peter Pettigrew, who immediately grabs food to eat, Sirius Black who looks at me with his stupid grin cast on his face, and Remus Lupin who looks like he's going to throw up.

"Hello, darling." Sirius greeted me as he sat beside me.

"Way to ruin my day, Black."

"And a way to wound my heart." He placed his hand on his chest, a grin never fading on his lips. I rolled my eyes at him.

"Lupin." I greeted the boys in front of me. He looks nervous and stressed. "Are you alright? You look like you're going to be sick."

"Oh...uh... Yeah, uhm... I'm fine." He looks uneasy like he didn't want to start a conversation.

James started to clear his throat and sat beside Lily.

"You should eat, Moony. Food helps with anything. Right, Wormtail?" He looked at his friend who stopped eating and nodded.

"Right, he is, Remus!" He agreed and then placed a piece of chicken leg on his friend's plate. "Go on, mate. Eat!" He smiled.

Remus looks like he just lost a battle that he didn't even bother to fight in the first place. He finally took a bite while I decided to scoop a mashed potato and put it on his plate.

"I heard it really goes well with gravy. You want?" I picked up a pot of gravy. He softly smiled and nodded. I poured the right amount of gravy on his mashed potatoes.

"Thank you, Y/N."

"You're welcome."

"Looks like you fancy my friend," Sirius smirked beside me, nudging me.

"Just because I'm nice to him, it means I fancy him. I'm naturally nice!" I defended. Well, it was true that I developed a tiny crush on Remus. But no one needs or has to know. Even Lily doesn't know.

"And here I thought you were naturally a bitch." Lily commented beside me. I slapped her shoulder which she laughed it off.

"I get your point, Lily! What a Gryffindor you are!" I told her.

I looked at my watch and saw that class was about to start. I picked up my things and stood from our table.

"Astronomy class is about to start," I told them. The boys also stood up. I raised an eyebrow at them. "You do not take this class, do you, boys?"

"Oh, no. We just, uh... need to get back at the dorms early." James answered. I still looked at them, curiously.

"Oh, for Merlin's beard." I heard Lily say under her breath. "They need my help with Potions. You know how dumb they are in that subject." My friend stood up and linked her arm with James'.

"You can handle four of them?" I raised my eyebrows suspiciously at her.

"Now that's a very Gryffindor of you." She smirked. "Thanks for your concern but I can handle them very well. Besides, Remus helps me."

"Okay... I'll see you guys tomorrow." I bid them goodbye and went to the Astronomy Tower.

Today's lesson is interesting. I listened and learned from our Professor. I used my telescope to determine the stars and drew on my chart. As I did my work, I couldn't help but admire the moon that was shining upon us. I bet it's reflecting in my eyes.

The class dismissed and I decided to stay for a while. The professor smiled at me and then complimented how I excellent student I am. After a few minutes, she bid me a good night and I was finally left alone.

As I admired the night sky, looking at the full moon, I heard a loud howl near the forbidden forest. My face turns into a frown.

I just realized how much I admire the full moon because of its beauty. There's someone who's suffering because of it.

I bet it's awful to transform into a werewolf. I heard it's quite painful. We learned about werewolves during our third year. And I must say it was quite interesting learning about them.

Misunderstood, they are. But not all of them.

Another howl was heard from the forest. I can feel it's pain. Like it was struggling, crying for help. I feel sorry for it.

I hope they're well as soon as the sun rises tomorrow...

"Morning." I greeted as I sat beside Lily.

"Hey. How was the class last night?" She smiled.

"Wonderful. How was your tutoring last night with the boys?"

"...Great," There was a hint of sadness in her voice.

"Is everything alright? And where are they? Shouldn't they be here?"

"Everything is alright. They probably slept through the alarm. Besides, it's Saturday." She smiled weakly at me. I can sense that something was wrong.

Lily and I have been friends since our third year. We took Divination class together out of curiosity but never took it again the next year. Because we find it ridiculous.

We're in our sixth year now. And in these past 5 months ever since she and James dated, she's always a bit...off every once in a month. Maybe it was just her hormones whenever she was in her period.

"If you say so..." I took a sip of my coffee. "I need to stop by at the Hospital Wing. I promised Madam Pomfrey that I'll volunteer for her today."

"You are?" She looked surprised.

"Yes. So, I'm afraid I cannot accompany your lonely sad ass, Evans." I grinned at her whilst earning an eye roll from her.

"I can survive a day without you, smartass."

"That's good to hear."

Our conversation continued before I decided to go to the Hospital Wing.

"There you are Ms. L/N. I thought you were busy and forgot to volunteer." Madam Pomfrey greeted.

"I wouldn't. Sorry, I was late. I needed to return a few books from the library." I rolled my sleeves and tied my hair to prepare myself for making medicines and potions for the ill students.

"Can I start? I wouldn't pass the opportunity to help and learn." I smiled.

"You're truly dedicated at your age. I heard you were considering to work at St. Mungo's?" She led me to a cubicle and handed me a chart of the students who were in the Hospital Wing at the moment.

"I am. I wanted to follow in my dad's footsteps. And I like to take care and help people." I took the chart from her and saw Remus' name on it.

"Is he alright?" My face turns to a worried look. Madam Pomfrey looked at the chart where my finger was pointing.

"Ah, Mr. Lupin. Are you two acquainted?" She asked and I nodded at her. "He is quite alright. Just needed a few stitches and I remember, he needs Wiggenweld potion. Could you brew some?"

I didn't hesitate and went to fetch the cauldron along with the ingredients. After finishing the potion, I went to Madam Pomfrey to inform her that I was done brewing.

"Wonderful! Why don't you give it to him?" She said while her eyes led to where Remus was lying down.

"I, uh, uhm... He cannot know that I'm here..." I muttered. I heard Madam Pomfrey chuckle. She held my shoulder and pushed the potion into my chest.

"Mr. Lupin might need a familiar face to see right now. His friends are quite busy serving detention."

"But..."

"Go on, dear." She gave me an encouraging look. I sighed deeply before walking my way through him.

As soon as I reached his bed, my gaze softened. He looks awful. A lot of bandages were wrapped around his body. His gaze turns from the ceiling to me.

His eyes widened at the sight of me.

"Y/N?"

"Uhm... You need to drink, uh, this..." I hate that I always stutter whenever it's just the two of us.

He nodded and fixed himself. He leaned at the headboard of the bed slowly. I could see him struggle so I placed the potion at his bed table and helped him.

"Here. Are you good?" I held his arm lightly as I fixed his pillow for his back.

"I am. Thank you."

I start to pour the right amount of the potion I brewed and give it to him. He drank it and handed me the cup.

"That should help you feel better." I closed the bottle of the potion. "I didn't mean to pry and we're barely even friends..."

"We're friends, Y/N." He smiled.

"We are?"

"We are. Unless you don't want to."

"Oh, no! I mean, I want to! Merlin, am I embarrassing myself in front of you?" I felt my cheeks burning but Remus just chuckled.

"No, you're not."

"I'm sorry."

"There's no apology necessary, Y/N." He gave me a kind smile which made my heart, warm. "But you were saying something. What is it?"

"How did you end up with those wounds? What happened?"

Remus seems to be taken aback. He looked like he didn't want to answer the question. He wants to but is finding what excuse he can tell.

"It's fine if you don't want to answer."

"No. It's just... the boys and I did something stupid and well..."

"I see. That's why they are serving detention today."

"Yes."

"Understood. I'm going back to help Madam Pomfrey. Just call us if you need any help or concern." I smiled before turning my back on him.

"Actually..."

"Yes?" I looked over to him.

"Never mind."

"Oh, okay... See you later."

"See you."

I returned to Madam Pomfrey's desk and started to scribble notes.

"Did he take the medicine?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"Yes, he did."

"Hmm... you should be here more often if he intends to return here with more injuries. That boy is stubborn to take his medications."

"What do you mean? He drank the potion without being stubborn. And more often? You mean he's always here? Injured?" My concern was visible and the elder woman just smiled at me, not bothering to answer my questions.

"You look troubled." Lily closed the book she was reading.

"I am?"

"You are." She rolled her eyes before speaking again. "What is it? Potions problem? Hmm, no. You're good at potions like me. Transfiguration problem? No, you're also good at it? Boy problem? Pfft, no. Of course, not. You don't like someone. I mean, if you do, I would know! Wait..." She stopped talking as soon as she mentioned the boy's problem.

"Fucking bloody hell! You do have a crush on someone!" I quickly covered her mouth when the other students started to look in our way.

"Quiet, Lily!"

"Who is it? How long? Tell me everything!" She looked so excited. This is why I liked to keep it to myself.

"Lupin. Since last year..." I looked at my friend's face and she kept her expression neutral. I raised an eyebrow at her because I was expecting a reaction from her. "Uhmm...?"

"Oh, sorry. I always knew you liked him, Y/N." She grinned at me. "But besides that... Remus, huh? If James have known, he would be freaking out and started to plan all your wedding." She laughed at the thought of her boyfriend.

"Well then it's good Potter's not here," I said.

"Quite. How did you start liking him?" She looked eager to hear my answer to her question. I smiled at the thought of when I started liking him.

"Y/N Artemis L/N..." He says my name under his breath while holding my leathered diary. I panicked that I didn't mean to snatch my diary out of his hands harshly.

"This...is mine..."

"Sure, it is. You have a beautiful name." A blush crept into my cheeks. When he saw my face, he started to clear his throat. "Uh... Uhm, sorry. You drop it but I swear I didn't read it. I, uh, uhm...would never invade one's privacy." He explained.

"It's fine, Lupin. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be harsh."

"An apology from you isn't necessary. I'll see you later." He bid me a goodbye.

"See you..."

"You started liking him because he told you that your name is beautiful?" Lily looked amused.

"It's kinda shallow, I know." I sighed.

"No, it's not. It's kind of amusing. Of course, Remus is always nice." My shoulder started to lump when she said those words.

He's nice to everyone... It's one of his good qualities but sometimes I mistake his kindness into something more.

"I know..."

"Why don't you ask him to have a study session? Just the two of you."

"Oh, no. He'll probably say no. Besides I don't want to bother him. He needs his rest. I'm sure you know what had happened to him." I shook my head while laughing nervously. Lily's face turns into a frown.

"I'm not saying that you should ask him now, Y/N. And besides, Remus wouldn't mind. You both like to study and stick your noses in books. He will say yes to you, I promise. So, why don't you go and try?" She continues to encourage me.

A couple of weeks had passed and I decided to ask Lupin for a study session. And so, I made my way through Great Hall and immediately saw him with his best friends. Lily spotted me and invited me to sit down.

"Hello, love." Sirius greeted me as soon as I sat beside him while Lupin was in front of me.

"Hello, Black." I greeted back. I turned my face to Lupin. "Hello." He stopped scribbling on his parchment to face me.

"Y/N, hello." His smile is beautiful. I tried not to distract myself and took a deep breath.

"Are you... Uhm, do you have anything to do later this evening?" I asked him. Lily seemed to hear my question and slowly turned her attention to us.

"Er... No. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I--"

"Are you asking my best friend out?!" Sirius cut my words off. James and Peter looked at us. I saw James start to curve his lips upward and wanted to say something but Lily butted in.

"Oh, bloody hell, Sirius!" She scolded while James tried to calm his girlfriend.

"Are you?!" He insisted on asking. I felt embarrassed and couldn't look at Lupin.

"Never mind him, Y/N. What were you saying?" Lupin finally starts to speak with a gentle tone.

"Uhm..." I slowly looked up to meet his eyes. He was looking at me, encouraging me to tell him what I was about to say. "I was going to invite you for a study session... Just the two of us. If that's okay."

"I would love to. I'll see you later at the Library."

After dinner, I finally made my way to the Library. I was feeling quite nervous but excited. As soon as I stepped inside the Library, I already saw Lupin sitting near the window. He looks troubled, looking outside the window. I started to wonder if he felt pressured and forced to agree to this study session.

I slowly walked toward his direction and sat in front of him. He looks like he snapped out of his thoughts and turned his attention to me.

"Sorry..." I muttered.

"Why do you always feel sorry whenever you see me, Y/N?" He looks at me curiously. I looked away.

"I feel like... I'm always bothering you."

I heard a soft chuckle coming from him.

"You're not, believe me."

"You meant it?"

"Yes." He answered.

"No. I mean, do you mean it when you agreed to have this study session with me?" He looks confused with my question.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

"I just thought...that you just agreed because you felt sorry and don't want to see me get embarrassed."

"Oh. I didn't agree because I felt bad. I agreed because I want to. I like your company, Y/N." His words were comforting and didn't feel like a lie. I smiled at him and started to open my book to study.

After a few minutes, I found myself staring out the window. I was admiring yet again the night sky. I felt someone was looking at me. I turned around only to meet his eyes again. He was looking at me intently.

"Lupin?"

"What's so beautiful about the night? It's just darkness and a lot of bad things happen at night. Why do you admire it?" He asks.

"Well... It isn't a total darkness, isn't it? There are beautiful stars and the moon. They're the ones who light up this night. They are the reminder that even in the darkness, there's always a light." I looked at him and his face softened. He looked vulnerable. "A moon is also a reminder that the sun will always show up."

"That's..." He smiled at me but his eyes were sad. "I have a guess that you always see the good in other people."

"Some people are just misunderstood. So, I always wanted to understand them."

Even if his face is covered with scars, he looks handsome... Fuck, I think I'm in love with him.

Our study sessions continued every night ever since that night. Sometimes, we would just close our books and talk about a lot of things.

But this night is different. He told me couldn't come to our study session because something important came up. I told him that it was fine and that we can reschedule it tomorrow. But he told me he won't be available this whole week.

I finished helping Madam Pomfrey at the Hospital Wing and decided to go to the Astronomy Tower. Tonight is a full moon and I always liked to watch the moon at its fullness. I mean, it's the reason why I was named after a moon goddess, Artemis. I was born on a full moon.

As the full moon shone brightly, a loud, painful howl was heard near the Whomping Willow. Its cries were awful like it needed help. It was a howl that I had heard for the last 6 years.

The next day, I went to the Hospital Wing to help Madam Pomfrey. It became my routine since she really helped me a lot to take care of the students who were sick.

"Right in time, dear. Here give this to Mr. Lupin." She gave me a bottle of potion. I was about to ask her when she pushed me into the curtains to see his unconscious body lying down on the bed.

I see his fresh cuts and wounds. They looked worse than last time. A bandage that wrapped around his torso like the last time he was in here. As I examined his state, his eyes were starting to open. I went over to his side and held his hand.

"Lupin..."

"Y/N? What are you doing here?" His voice is a little hoarse.

"You know fully well that I helped Madam Pomfrey." I put the potion aside and helped him to lean against his bed's headboard. "What happened to you?"

"It's..."

"Another trouble with your friends? That excuse won't convince me now since your wounds are worse than last month. I'm sure your friends wouldn't put you and themselves in danger. Even they're foolishly brave."

Lupin's lip pursed as he looked uncomfortable.

"Do you not trust me?" I asked as I poured his medicine into a cup before handing it to him.

"I...I do trust you. I'm just scared."

"Of what, Remus?"

"That you'll be afraid of me." I sat at the side of his bed.

"I will never be afraid of you. How could I?"

"Y/N..." He took a deep breath before he spoke again. "I can't tell you..." I reached for his hand as he looked at me. I gave him a comforting smile.

"I won't force you to. But please know that I am here for you. I'll listen to you. We'll talk like we have done these past few weeks."

"I'm afraid of the night. I'm afraid of the moon. I don't like it." He tightened his hold on my hand. "It always brings me pain, it makes me weak. It makes me helpless. Indeed, James, Sirius, and Peter always stayed with me during the painful transformation. But I'm always afraid that I'll hurt them if..."

That's when I realized everything. The painful howls I hear every once in a month for the last 6 years. The cries for help that make my heart break. It was him. It was Remus Lupin. He's a werewolf.

I didn't say anything and hugged him tightly. It was stupid but I cried on behalf of him. His body stiffened when he heard my sobs. He gently put his arms around me and nuzzled his face on my neck while inhaling my scent. His body started to relax.

"Why are you crying?" He whispered in my ear.

"I'm sorry you have to go through all of that pain. I'm sorry you feel scared. I'm sorry--"

"Y/N. I told you not to--"

"I am sorry, Remus. You don't deserve any of this." I pulled my head away to see his face. My arms were still on him, hugging him. "I want to take all your pain away. I want to stay with you."

"No... What if I hurt you? I can't risk your life if I let you stay."

"I don't care. I... I love you, Remus. And this is the only thing I am not apologizing for." He was surprised at my sudden confession. His hands left at my back and moved to my face. He cups and caresses it. He wipes my tears and places a kiss on my forehead.

"I'm sorry... I didn't intend for you to fall in love with me. It's all my fault."

"It wasn't. You shouldn't blame yourself because I love you. I want to stay, Remus. I want to be here with you, forever." My hands moved on the sides of his neck. "Please don't push me away. Please let me take care of you."

I slowly traced the scars on his face with my fingertips as he closed his eyes, feeling it.

"I love you..." He says as he leans closer to my face. I could feel his hot breath brushed on my face. His lips slowly lean into mine.

"Remus..." He closed the gap and finally placed a soft, sweet lingering kiss on my lips.

"I love you, Y/N. God, I love you so much." He says between our kisses. And then he pulled away but he rested his forehead against mine. None of us spoke and just felt our moment.

Remus finally woke up and saw Sirius looking at him, worried.

"You alright, mate?" His friend handed him a glass of water.

"Y-Yeah..."

"You were calling her name, Moony."

He didn't look at him. He felt his heavy heart and looked outside the window. It was night and the stars shone brightly. The moon is in a crescent shape.

"It's night," He says.

"Yes, it is." Sirius handed him a potion. It was a wolfsbane potion. "There's a full moon tomorrow."

Ah... Remus always hated the full moon. He always does because of the pain it brings him. The transformation is always painful. But every month, every year, he always looks forward to the full moon. Because it's the only time he'll be with her.

When the moon rises, she's with him. She stays. That's when it's fine even if the transformation is painful because he knows she's there. She'll soothe the pain away. He just needs to look at the full moon and everything will be alright.

"Remus?" Sirius called his friend.

"She likes to look outside the window when night falls..." He looked at him with a painful expression.

"She does..."

"I can't wait for the full moon tomorrow night. I can't wait to be with her again." His voice was trembling, like he wanted to cry. "How can I fall in love with the moon when it's a curse? I'm supposed to hate it now that it will always bring me pain more than ever."

"Remus."

"I..."

"She left a part of her. She will always be with you as long as your daughter, Artemis, is alive. Something did die inside of you that night but it gave another reason to live. Her daughter...your daughter." Sirius placed a hand on Remus' shoulder. "She needs his father. Now, come along. Everyone is waiting downstairs. Harry arrives today." He squeezed his shoulder before removing it.

Remus went downstairs to see his daughter, their daughter laughing with Hermione and Ginny. She looked at him and for a minute, he thought he saw her again. She looks exactly like her.

"You never left me, Y/N... You kept your word." He whispered to himself before walking over to them.

*****

#harry potter oneshot #character x reader #fanfiction #hp fanfic #oneshot #gryffindor #harry potter fanfiction #hp one shot #harry potter #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #marauders #the marauders #marauders era #sirius black #james potter

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kunikinnie · 2 years

Note

Hello. I hope I won't bother you too much with my request. Can I ask fluff imagine for Mori, Fukuzawa, Fyodor (separately) and their fem!s/o, which they accidentally injured during a strong and heated quarrel? How would they try to make amends? Happy ending, please.

a/n: sorry this took so long! Idk how to fluff this so here's an hurt to comfort thingy if that makes sense? :') I don't usually write for Fyodor so he might be ooc... I hope it's not too far off, though HAHA tagging: @stygianoir, @irethepotato

warning: some unhealthy things here and there, I think?

accidentally hurting their s/o during an argument

featuring: Mori, Fukuzawa, Fyodor x F!Reader

Mori Ougai

In the Port Mafia, disobeying orders can lead to severe punishment. That was what lurked in Mori's mind when he confronted you.

Of course, in this context you were not a subordinate and he was not your superior. You were equals and he did his best to treat you like one. He was so used to having control that in times like this, it was especially difficult for him to keep his cool.

It was clear you were not backing down no matter how logical and clear his rebuttals were. That's fine... usually. His patience must have been thin tonight as his scalpel suddenly grazed your face.

It took the both of you by surprise. It's never happened before, and the flurry of questions and emotions in you had come out in the form of hot tears.

"W-wait, darling I'm sorry-"

You ran out of the room before he could stop you. It's not that he was too stunned to move, it was just he knew exactly where you'd run to.

He walked up to your bathroom door and knocked on it, but there was no answer. The sound of the running faucet water and your sobs might have muffled it, so he continued to knock on it until you grunted in reply.

"...let me help you with that. Please."

From what he remembered, the the cut was a bit deeper than a mere scratch. It won't do to leave it improperly treated - well, more the impact of his actions than the actual wound - or it may leave a scar that will never heal.

Fortunately, you finally opened the door to him. Your beautiful face was covered in tears and tap water with some blood still dripping down. The moment you came out, he went in and grabbed a first aid kit.

He wordlessly treated the area. You said nothing as well. But the tension between you two seemed to go down just by a fraction. The gentleness of which he took care of you must have been the reason.

Once he was done, he grabbed your hand and cupped it on his own cheek. "Forgive me, Y/N. You can slap or stab my own if you wish."

The strange offer made you laugh. "There's no need for that. You're always so dramatic."

After a moment of bewilderment, Mori smiled in relief. He was worried that it would be difficult to win you back.

"But you can't go unpunished. Hmm. Maybe take some time off and take me somewhere?"

His usual teasing smile came back. "If that's what will make you happy, then consider it done."

Fukuzawa Yukichi

Arguments with Fukuzawa, although are rare, usually tend to get heated quickly. You wouldn't even have made it to the arguing stage if the matter wasn't serious.

It was even quicker whenever it came to you risking your safety. It just triggers his fears to fly out in the form of anger.

"What were you thinking, Y/N?!"

Everything you said somehow didn't ease him at all. The justifications just didn't sit right with him, or the way you seemed to not listen to anything he was saying exasperated him further.

Hurting or threatening others generally speaking is no longer an option for him. Even in his anger he tried to control himself to the best of his ability; what led him to grab your wrist and almost break it he would never know.

It was your sharp cry that snapped him out of it. The look of fear that his targets once showed him moments before their death now on your face - he did the unthinkable and now his core was shaken.

He swiftly but gently pulls you into a tight hug as you sobbed into his chest. Regret had now threatened to squeeze his heart until it died.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry-"

Whispered apologies and reassurances of love almost turned into tears. Had you not softly grasped his back, he might have thought he had lost you right there and then.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, Y/N. I didn't. How could I-"

Slowly your bodies slumped down to the ground. His body was wrapped around yours tightly as he sobbed in the crook of your neck.

It ended up as you comforting him instead. While you were hurt (literally and figuratively) from the near-twisting of your wrist, it didn't bother you as much as it did him. Perhaps it was from you being able to understand his automatic reaction despite the initial shock.

It saddened you more that he was afraid he'd gone back to his old ways. After all you've been through together, you'd know more than anyone he had changed for the better for good.

You then started to stroke his head. It was slow, gentle, and comforting; it was like lovingly stroking a cat who had just been out in the rain.

After a while he lifted his head and your hand fell down to his cheek. You stared into his red, watery eyes. It felt inappropriate but you suddenly chuckled. He stared at you in astonishment and confusion.

"S-sorry it's just... you remind me so much of the stray cat we fed the other day."

Upon processing your words, his expression softened and he kissed your forehead. "Thank you for being so kind. You ended up being the one taking care of me."

"It's okay. I'm sorry I upset you that much. But I just love you so much I can't help myself and..."

"I love you so much, Y/N. And I promise you it won't happen again- I don't know what I'll do if you leave my life. So please, be careful next time."

Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Now here's someone who is very much capable of hurting and enjoying hurting others. His sadistic tendencies somewhat extend to even those he cares about.

There is a certain limit to how much he'd tease and test you. He needed to know how far you were willing to go for him, after all, and so far he's glad to know it's much more than he expected.

He's not the type to be openly affectionate nor stone cold with you. The signals are always mixed with him, but the one thing is crystal clear is his boundaries (specifically when it comes to his schemes). He never tells you about it, not even an inkling, and it annoys you how you're only left to guess if something terrible is going to happen to him until it actually does.

You arguing for it was out of love for him. Both of you understood that. But Fyodor isn't exactly used to yielding to anyone and his frustration at that must have ticked something in him.

His physique isn't strong at all - in fact, one would fear he'd collapse any moment - but the sting of the slap on your face was more painful than any other injury you've sustained in your life.

There were no tears. But the way you stared at him, dumbfounded and frightened, and how slowly you tried to back away had surfaced an unacknowledged but very great fear he had been burying all this time.

"Y/N, don't go."

His voice was strangely soft and sincere; it almost sounded child-like.

You turned around to see his begging face - one you'd never thought you'd see - and the way he just looked so vulnerable made you run back to him.

"I'm sorry, Y/N."

His cold, bony hand reached out to yours and squeezed it gently, but he said and did nothing. How peculiarly timid he was all of a sudden; he couldn't even look at you in the eyes.

"It's all for you. All of it, for you. So please trust me."

A voice in your head told you it was a farce - that whatever you saw right now was another one of his shrewd acts- but another, louder voice told you it was a genuine expression of love on his part.

"...can I really, after this?"

His pale lips kissed your hand. "Of course. The same way I trust you no matter how risky you are to all operations."

You scoffed at him. Risky? You? Since when?

He then smiled at your reaction. You didn't have to say a word for him to know you had already returned to him.

"Don't be offended, dear. That's simply the truth."

"You're the worst."

Not much happened after that. It passed the lips of no one either. But you did notice that he became a little bit more physically affectionate that night - not that you mentioned it outright to him, of course.

#i just realized this could technically be a gn!reader but anw #bsd #mori ougai #fukuzawa yukichi #bsd fyodor dostoyevsky #mori x reader #fukuzawa x reader #bsd fyodor dostoyevsky x reader

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strawbby-shortcake · 3 months

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★ Bruised and Battered [a tyler durden x gn! reader oneshot] ★

Tyler often comes back to the house on Paper Street early in the morning. Sometimes it's three or four in the morning until he's back, if you're lucky, you'll see him stumble in at one or two. You wouldn't call it coming back "home," since this place was rotting away one minute at a time.

Tonight, however, Tyler was back by 12 A.M., which was unusual. He had a large cut on the left side of his face that extended from his eyebrow to the very top of his cheekbone. There was blood splattered across his chest, whether it was his or someone else's, you didn't know. You assumed most of it was his since there was a fresh nosebleed flowing over his lips and chin. You could hear the blood drip onto the old, wooden floor, drop by drop.

"You're back early. What happened?" you asked from the couch.

Tyler didn't respond, he just went to the fridge and grabbed a cold beer. He plopped himself onto the opposite side of the couch, slightly facing away from you.

You sighed. "Not even a 'hello?' Come on, Ty, what happened."

He lifted the bottle to his lips and paused before drinking.

"Don't call me that," he said, taking a sip of his beer.

"You're so hot and cold with me. Last week, as soon as you came back, you gave me a hug and started ranting about how to make soap and the philosophy of life- or whatever," you scoffed.

He always did this. He switched up like day and night, so you never expected the same "version" of Tyler.

Tyler grunted and lit a cigarette in response. Maybe he couldn't care less, but what would you know, right?

You got up from your seat and went to find the medical kit in the bathroom. Once you got it, you took a rag from one of the room's floors and brought it back to the couch. Tyler had put his cigarette out on the ash tray and was lying on the couch in an awkward position.

Maybe it was because there was an open wound on his side as well.

"Get up, Tyler," you said bluntly.

He obeyed and sat up; he knew you were going to tend to his wounds one way or another. You got out the rag and wiped up all the blood, put some ointment on his cuts, and bandaged them up.

"You're all bruised and battered...," you whispered.

"Hmm...," Tyler responded.

"Tyler, why won't you just talk to me for once? Let me into your mind, or something. I don't understand you sometimes. One minute you tolerate me and the next it seems like I'm scum to you. Don't you understand how-"

Tyler cut you off by gently placing his palms on either side of your face. His thumb brushed your skin just above your eyebrow.

Your face flushed quickly. "Now I'm REALLY confused. I-"

"Shhh," Tyler cut you off again. "I've got a thousand thoughts running through my head constantly, but the one that always sticks around is 'you.'"

You raised your eyebrows and opened your mouth to speak, but he didn't give you a chance.

"You want me to talk, well sweetheart, I talk a lot. You just need to listen."

"I DO listen, what the hell are you talking about?" you snap, prying your face from his hands.

Tyler swiftly grabbed your wrist and held both of your hands in his. He tightened his grip almost violently.

"No, you don't. Listen to my silence. Listen to my eyes when I look at you. Listen to me now," he explained.

His light blue eyes gazed into yours, his expression softening. He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it. It wasn't forceful. In fact, it even seemed genuine.

"I'm listening, Tyler," you said.

"I left the club early because I missed you. I wanted to see you while you were still awake. I don't like coming back here when you're already in bed. I miss you," Tyler confessed.

"I don't know what this 'club' is but I always look forward to when you come back. Even when you're all bruised and battered," you responded, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He rested his chin on the top of your head and hesitantly hugged you back.

"Tyler?"

"Hmm?"

"I missed you, too."

[END]

#tyler durden #tyler durden x reader #fight club fanfic #fight club #fight club x reader #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #new post #oneshot

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starlightiing · 4 hours

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Quick!!! Don't think!!! This is a hold up!!! Lestappen with the prompt 'blood'!!!! Something short, and GO!!!!!

Hi Anon! This wasn't quick, nor is it short. But thank you for inspiring me to write tonight, when I was spending most of my time wallowing in self-doubt and self-pity about my abilities. This is set in my Winged Creature universe, and is just a glance into the entire set-up that world has to offer. I hope you enjoy and thank you again!

The sight of blood always quickens Charles' pulse, no matter how it may be overabundant or inescapable in his line of work. The sight of blood means trouble, and typically that trouble comes with an angel packed up in a pretty bow at the end of the trail, hanging on to their last moments of life with a desperation Charles hopes he never comes to understand (or perhaps, unfortunately, he already does. Maybe that's why he spends hours in the bathroom after, emptying his stomach time and time again until he's certain not even acid could possibly remain. Maybe he does know exactly the kind).

This particular trail of blood is harder to follow. The line is thin, with the drops mingling into dark soil where they are almost impossible to see. But where there is blood, there is trouble, and so Charles keeps his flashlight trained to every single spot of crimson he can decipher until he's lead to what looks to be a small, poorly constructed cabin of sorts in the middle of a small clearing. Trees tower around all sides of the house, almost encircling it, which provides the perfect shelter and limited visibility anyone could need to lay low.

Charles dims the light as he approaches, watching his breath drift upwards into the cooler air of the night. He is used to these woods being eerily silent with the lack of life - wild or otherwise - but the sounds that emanate from within the dilapidated cabin send shivers up his spine.

There are no lights that Charles can see. Two windows grace either side of the cabin, both darker than the night sky and with no glass in their panes. The wood holding the cabin together is thin and unevenly cut, and Charles thinks he could probably tap the damned thing and it would collapse to the ground with little to no effort at all.

In addition to it looking anything but inviting, there are soft, breathless whines of pain filtering out of the windows into the night. Something akin to a wounded animal - though Charles knows far better than to believe that.

He curses softly beneath his breath and breaks out into a sprint towards the cabin as fast as his legs will carry him. If those are the sounds of a distressed angel, he could have minutes, or even mere seconds, to get them help. His gun is within reach, carefully slung across his back in the event hunters are still occupying the cabin with the angel.

Or, more cryptically, in the event the angel is beyond saving.

The ground crunches beneath Charles' feet as he runs, the remains of dead leaves scattered about the dirt make both for a noisy approach to the cabin, and a slippery one. He skids slightly as he nears the doorway, reaching out to keep himself upright by grabbing hold of the wood trimming. As expected, it snaps out of place beneath his grip and it's a miracle he manages to keep himself on his feet.

"Fuck," he hisses breathlessly, raising his flashlight up for some visibility inside the pitch-black cabin. There's a table and two chairs haphazardly overturned a few feet away from the doorway, obvious evidence of a struggle, and more blood painted across the floor in the tell-tale smears of a hasty retreat. If there were hunters here - and it appears as though that was the case - they are long gone now. "Hello?"

A gasp echoes to his right, and Charles darts the flashlight across the room towards the spot where it originated. No amount of training or experience will ever fully ready Charles for the horrors he finds at the ends of blood trails.

Most especially this horror.

A young man, perhaps no older than Charles himself, lay curled in the fetal position. He’s tucked far into the corner, surrounded by the biggest puddle of blood Charles thinks he’s ever seen in his life. On the man’s back are deep, jagged, angry looking gashes where - he can only assume - wings used to reside not all too long ago. Two beautiful feathers, silky and blue, are clenched tightly in the man’s hands like a lifeline.

And he’s shaking. Oh, god, is he shaking.

“Oh my god,” Charles says, rushing over to the fallen angel’s side to better assess the damage. He knows these wounds aren’t survivable without medical attention, but the fact that the poor man is still alive after losing all of that blood, well, that is a feat in itself. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s alright, I won’t hurt you.”

The angel does not respond immediately to Charles’ words, but he does peek his head up from the floor to fasten two pained, glassy eyes directly onto Charles. Once contact is made, the angel’s eyes widen in fear, and Charles puts his one unoccupied hand up to show he has no ill-intent. “I promise I won’t hurt you. I am here to help.”

“Y-You can’t help - help me. No - no one can.” the man sputters, appearing unable to control the tremors that come with the onset of shock - hypovolemic shock, if Charles remembers correctly. This isn’t good, he needs medical attention faster than Charles can get him to it.

“Well, you have never met me. I am able to make miracles happen. Can you tell me your name?” Charles asks, reaching forward to press his fingertips against the pulse-point at one of the angel’s wrists. As he suspects, the pulse is too quick and too weak - more symptoms of shock to add to the list. He doesn’t have much time -

“M-Max. Call me Max.” The trembling is full-body, and Charles has half a mind to wince in discomfort on his behalf. If there is any relief to be found, however, it’s that Max has the cognisance to not only respond, but recall his own name.

“Okay, Max. You can call me Charles,” he says softly, switching off the flashlight and tucking it into his pocket for a quick draw should he need it later. “I need you to hold on for me, okay? I am taking you someplace safe, to a friend that can help you. I know it is probably too much to ask for your trust, but I promise you are safe with me.”

Max hums in response, but Charles doesn’t waste time trying to decipher what that could possibly mean. He reaches out to pull Max into his arms and only then does he realize just how badly he’s shaking as well.

With a grunt of effort, Charles manages to curl Max up into his arms and hoist him up from the floor. His shoes are slick in the blood that surrounds them, but he keeps his balance through the sheer power of will and will alone - Max is depending on him, the only thing standing between recovery or death, and Charles will be damned straight to hell before he allows it to be the latter option.

“Ch-Charles…you are safe?” Max chokes out, between soft mewls of pain. “I don’t - don’t want -” he pauses for a breath, one that comes far too shaky for Charles’ liking, “Don’t want to die yet.”

“It is not your time, Max, but you have to keep fighting. Fight with whatever you have left in you.”

Max’s eyes close, then, and his head lolls weightlessly to the side. Charles feels something snap in his chest as he darts through the woods as fast as he can manage holding a body larger than his own against him. There’s no time for him to stop and check for vitals, or to offer any lingering comfort to a man that might very well be taking his last breath right this very moment. All Charles can do is run, and so he does.

“Fuck!” he screams, feeling tears burn behind his eyes. “Stay with me, Max! Stay!”

If he’s crying when he reaches the sanctuary, neither Alex or Lando say a goddamn word. Max is pulled from his arms with alarming force, causing Charles to fall forward onto his knees with Lando quick to his side. Distantly, above Lando’s soft murmurs of comfort and the feverish beating of his own heart in his ears, he thinks he hears Alex say, “I’ve got a pulse!”

“Oh, fuck. Oh thank fuck.” Charles cries, leaning his entire body over onto Lando’s shoulder as the weight of his relief is too heavy for him to manage on his own. Warm, delicate wings wrap around him from either side like a cocoon, followed by a pair of welcoming arms that pull him in close and cradle him in all the ways he needs to ease the ache in his burning chest.

“You did good, Charles.” he hears Lando say from above him, and he chokes on a sob that tears its way out of his throat.. “You did so good.”

Charles thinks, perhaps, only time will tell if those words are actually true.

#lestappen #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 rpf #max verstappen #charles leclerc #tw: blood #tw: violence #tw: medical #there's a whole ass plot line with charles and max in this universe so if anyone is interested in mooooreeee....#lestappen fic #lestappen fanfic

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