#HEAD IN HANDS BAWLING SOBBING ON THE FLOOR | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

silvercloverr5 · 8 months ago

Note

heyyy, can i request good old enemies to lovers with so much angst but ends with fluff with sirius??? maybe they used to be friends before and Sirius just suddenly turned cold? and the reader was giving the same energy and all they do is bicker and one time the reader just burst out about how siri is being a prick and then it ends with confession?? it's very long 😭😭im sorry

Hey guys!!! Sorry I’m going through requests VERRRRY slowly atm but please feel free to leave requests in my inbox for me to get round to <3 love u all so much

Also, I included reader seeing Regulus as a little brother figure and looking after him, because I can’t not :-( sorry if it puts u off the fic!!

(CW: LOTS of angst, child abuse from walburga, sad Sirius, sad Regulus, Sirius being cold and cruel to cope with loss, basically the reader being the black brother’s best friend, ends with fluff<3)

“I used to love you.” ~S.O.B

{you were from a pure blood family, best friends with Sirius Black. You comforted him through his mother’s cruelty, and fell in love along the way. Until Sirius ran away, leaving you to protect his little brother from harm out of the love you still held. Now, when you see him in school, you give him a reciprocated glare. But why does he hate you?}

“Sirius, come here!” Came the harsh, threatening voice of Walburga Black, she sounded angry, really angry, and you watched Sirius tense, looking up from the book you were reading together. His eyes were wide, face whiter than usual, holding much more terror than a little boy should ever have to endure. You put a hand on his shoulder, warming him in this cold house. “Hey, it’s fine. Whatever happens, you can come back up to me after. I’ll take care of you.” You told him. You may have been only children at the time, but the way Sirius nodded and his silver eyes softened and glittered with tears, you knew you had a certain way with him.

Alone in Sirius’s room, you played with your hands, shoulders stiff as you listened to the mother scream ruthlessly at her son, trying not to picture the broken, guilty, vacant expression you knew would be adorning Sirius’s tear-stained face. You couldn’t hear Sirius’s responses to Walburga’s yelling, you knew he froze up when he was scared, so he’d be mumbling in response. “I DONT CARE IF YOUR FRIEND IS UPSTAIRS. YOU ARE A DISGRACE ALREADY!” She yelled. You had to cover your ears when gut-wrenching cries and wails started to echo up the stairs. Walburga was using the crucio curse on her son. Again.

~~~

Soon, the screams ceased and Sirius rushed up the stairs and into his room where you still sat. He slammed the door desperately, and crumbled to the floor beneath it, shaking like a leaf and loud sobs starting to make his small back heave. You leaped off of his bed and knelt beside him. Hesitantly, you reached out to touch his back, but he flinched away from you with a sharp, choked gasp. That was when the first crack painfully sliced its way through your heart. To see your best friend weak and bawling on the floor of his bedroom, scared of even you, was an agonising feeling. Eventually, Sirius realised you wouldn’t hurt him, and wiggled into your lap, crying quieter now. His head found its way into your neck as he cried, and you could feel his wet tears snaking down your skin.

“Sirius, I’m here.” You whispered into his disheveled black curls. At that, you felt his body weaken in your lap. Before you knew it, he was asleep ontop of you, your arms wrapped around him. He stirred, turning slightly, slipping down your body so his head lay comfortably on your chest, and your face scrunched in both pity and guilt. A puddle of thick crimson blood stuck his hair to his pale forehead. You hated yourself for not being able to stop his mother from hurting him. Watching his body rise and fall with each peaceful breath he took as he slept, you spat on your sleeve and wiped the blood away, earning a harsh twitch and broken whimper from the raven-haired boy. He deserved nothing but peace.

With Sirius draped over your body like a snow-white blanket, hair splayed over you like he’d claimed you as his own bed, the door creaked open. You tensed, holding Sirius tighter, ready to give anything to protect him if Walburga showed in the door, but instead, a small frame appeared. Regulus. “Oh, Regulus.. did the shouting scare you?” You ask softly. The boy nods. He’s the spitting image of his big brother. “Is Siri okay?” He murmurs, rubbing his eye. You nod. “C’mere.”

Regulus tucks himself into the crook of your arm, head laying on the flesh of your shoulder. With big eyes mirroring Sirius’s, he peers up at his brother. “Heard mama shouting at him. He breaked something, I think.” Regulus explains shyly. “Mh. Your mother isn’t kind to Sirius. She isn’t kind to you either.” You say, more to yourself than him. He still nods in agreement. You stroke Sirius’s hair as he shifts in his sleep. “I’ll get you both out one day. And… and me and Sirius can get married. And you can be the best man-“ you describe your fantasy to the small boy, who has a wonderful smile creasing his little face, eagerly listening to each and every detail of the life he hoped to one day live.

~~~

You were now both in hogwarts. Over the years, Sirius had become rebellious, learning to fight back to his mother, but this always resulted in the crucio curse, which resulted in him collapsing in your arms. You were, admittedly, all he had. You and his little brother, who he’d noticed following the path of his parents. He hated the fact that regulus was so obedient to their inane beliefs. He hated it. It was only you who could calm his rushing mind.

It took only one night for everything to change. You weren’t over at his house, so he was alone, and he had a particularly bad row with his mother. After using the crucio curse on the boy until his thin limbs were tangled and trembling on the ground, his jet black curls tangled and his bitten-raw lip quaking like a child’s. While he was in this state, his mother mocked him. All he wanted was to be in the safety of your arms right now. He knew that although you came from a pure-blood family, you were not evil. You were good. You were like him, but braver. Kinder.

That night, Sirius knew he couldn’t live in this house anymore. He packed a bag full of clothes, essentials, and was unable to resist taking Regulus’s old teddy bear, an old shirt of yours and a necklace that was matching with you. He tied up his dark hair and slipped on his leather jacket. He’d grown out his hair because his parents didn’t approve of it: he wore the jacket simply because his parents didn’t like the 70s-rocker look. He’d do anything to escape those sleek black suits, hair styled tidily, silver and jewels everywhere he looked. In this house, he was nothing but a decoration, so he vowed to make his appearance undesirable to his parents. But, you always thought it suited him. While he crept silently down the corridor, boots hardly making a sound on the fancy patterned carpet, he heard a creak. His heart stopped. Fuck, he thought. Its mum. I’m never getting out. Oh, god, I’m never getting out.

“Siri?”

A small voice asked. It was Regulus. Sirius spun around where he stood to see an unruly mop of black curls matching his, framing a pale, soft face that didn’t at all suit the bitter yet elegant brutality of his family. “Reg.” was all Sirius could squeak.

“…you’re leaving aren’t you?”

“…yeah.”

“Oh.”

Regulus looked at his feet. He looked back up at his older brother.

“I’ll be by myself, Sirius.”

Sirius’s jaw clenched. He fought back the tears.

“I’m sorry, Reggie. I love you.”

Regulus’s daintily perfect face crumpled. “You can’t go, Siri, I don’t-.” He swallowed. “I don’t want to be alone. Not with them.” Sirius opened his arms. His little brother crashed into them like he’d disappear if he wasn’t fast. “I’m sorry, reg. I love you, but I can’t stay.” He murmured. Regulus was now sobbing into his shoulder. Sirius felt like the worst person on earth. He needed to get to James’s house before his mother woke up. “Regulus, I have to go.” He told him, petting the back of his head. Regulus suddenly pushed his brother back. Sirius recognised this; the anger that reg was displaying. When he was the same age, when he felt vulnerable, he disguised it with anger. He still did. “F-fine. Go. I don’t need you.” Regulus spat, his glistening silver eyes betraying him. “You’re… you’re really… really mean, Sirius, you know that?” He tried to hiss, but it turned out as a cracked whimper. Sirius felt his heart shatter in his chest. Stinging tears dripped down his cheeks.

“I love you, Regulus.”

“…”

Regulus walked to his room.

~~~

Sixth year.

Sirius had decided that he couldn’t hurt you anymore. With him leaving home, being a blood traitor, he knew he’d only cause you trouble. He couldn’t bare the thought of it. Little did he know he’d be doing just that.

When break had ended, you’d gone to greet your best friend. “Sirius! I’m sorry I didn’t see you much over the holiday, god, how’s regulus? Are you-“ your shoulders clashed together as he continued walking. much to your confusion, he walked straight past you with the icy glare of his father. “…Sirius?” You tried again, catching up with him and grabbing onto his shoulder. The physical contact from the person he loved most hurt like the touch of searing iron, and he flinched away. “Fuck off! Can’t you just.. just fucking go away?” He growled. His silver eyes were a stormy grey, he hated himself more as he watched your face fall. “What..?” You breathed, looking so heartbroken. He hated himself for making you hurt as well as his little brother.

He hated himself, he hated himself, he hated himself.

Trying to soothe the ache in his chest, he rushed past you. He left you standing in the ruins of what he had torn down.

From then on, everything changed.

~~~

Sirius Black was not your best friend anymore. He was cold and unresponsive, shooting you murderous glares whenever you saw him. He’d make offensive comments at you when he came close enough to communicate with you, and it confused you immensely. What happened to the boy who came to you for comfort? Who cried in your arms and begged you to keep him safe and warm? What happened to your boy? Your best friend? Only god knows.

You didn’t even know Sirius had run away until your parents informed you that you couldn’t go around to the Black’s house anymore. This had sparked a heated argument. “What? He ran away? He didn’t tell me!” You’d exclaimed. “Yes. To the Potter’s house, we hear. Walburga has burned his picture off of the tapestry, and-“

“Wait, what? I can’t go round anymore? What about Regulus?”

“No. Walburga doesn’t allow guests to see her children anymore.”

“What? No, no, no, I need to see Reg. come on, Dad, he needs me!”

Long story short, your argument was to no avail. You couldn’t see Regulus. You couldn’t protect him from his parent’s wrath like you had his brother. Alike Sirius, you spent some of your nights lying awake thinking about Regulus, alone and cold in that hellish house, and most of your night thinking about Sirius, and what you did to make him despise you so.

Soon enough, You and Regulus had fixed your relationship, and many nights you’d find yourself singing the youngest Black brother to sleep. You could comfort him from within the walls of hogwarts where his mother couldn’t hurt him. Even when Sirius hated you, you cared for his brother like he was your own.

~~~

At first, you’d tried to coax Sirius into talking to you. You’d stood with tight lips while he insulted you, and listened to his hateful, meaningless rants. You noticed how his friends, James, Peter and Remus, stopped egging him on when it came to you, and started nudging him or trying to distract him, as if he’d say something he’d regret. But you’d come to think that Sirius black was remorseless.

You weren’t sure why he’d switched up on you, become so mean. You did, however, decide that you would be just as harsh right back to him. You knew you could never bring yourself to hate him. He owned your heart, whether you liked it or not. You learned to hate that you couldn’t help that.

It had soon been a year. One torturous year of finding your spells book torn to shreds, looking at dark eyes that you once knew so well only to see an unrecognisable boy. The smirk that once brought warmth to your chest now opened a bottomless pit in your stomach. With each day, you ached more and more. So did he. Sirius loathed himself indescribably. He knew that if he told you, even after the torture he’d subjected you to, you’d kiss his forehead like old times and tell him it was okay. Tell him that he was good, and he’d never be like his parents, and that you were there for him. You were an amazing person, and he was horrible. But he couldn’t drop his facade now.

You were just trying to study when a voice you’d come to find agitating and grating permeated the silence of the library. “Ooh, little blood supremacist… what you studying? Dare I say dark magic?” Rolling your eyes, you slammed the textbook shut. “shut up, Black. You came from quite the same roots.” “Maybe: but I was brave enough to get out. I was good enough to get out.” He retorted with a grimace. Looking up to meet his cold gaze, you noted that his creased white shirt was unbuttoned, his crimson and gold tie hanging loose over his shoulders, only curls pinned up carelessly with his wand. A dangerous hairstyle, for sure.

“Would you give it a break? I was the reason you didn’t go crazy in that house.”

“I did go crazy in that house.”

“Yeah, I can fucking tell.” You said with a scoff. He pulled away your notebook. “So, have you got the dark mark yet? Godric knows you’ll be ecstatic-“ “why are you such a dick, Sirius?!” You yell hoarsely, jumping to your feet. His eyebrows furrowed at your outburst. Slightly, his eyes softened at the sight of your glassy ones, brimming with unshed tears. He said nothing, lips parted. “You’re.. you’re a fucking prick. I never did anything to you.” Turning away to hide your face which had turned pink as it did when you were about to cry, You started upstairs to your dormitory.

~~~

knock, knock, knock.

Someone rapped on your dorm’s door.

Knock, knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock. Knock.

Someone was incredibly impatient. You used the palm of your hand to dry your eyes slightly and sniffled. “What? Who is it?” You croaked. A voice answered, “please can I come in?” You frowned. This time, it was a voice you knew. You recognised it, broken and weak, pained, yet honey-smooth all the same. That was your Sirius. Your heart hurt again knowing you’d never have him back, not fully. You fully believed this was another of his cruel pranks.

“Come in.” You mumbled.

As Sirius muttered your name, you felt you were transported back to your childhood. When you’d play and read together. Laugh and smile. “What do you want, Black.” When you said that, his lip twitched, face scrunching slightly. He looked as if the words physically pained him. With that expression painted on his face, he looked just like he did as a child. Except now, his hair was longer, his face more angular, more beautiful. “Don’t call me that. Please.” He begged, voice cracking with emotion. You looked up at him with a waning expression of anger. “Why not? You have been awful to me, I will call you what I choose.” You say. He whimpers pitifully.

He shuts the door behind him. You hear him mumble something. “What did you say, Black?”

“I’m in love with you.”

Your body is tense. Everything is silent. You have one question.

“Why were you so angry with me when you left?”

He hesitated, before answering as raw and truthful as he can. “Because I was stupid. I knew nothing but that I loved you. And I hated myself, and I couldn’t hurt you any further.”

“What? Hurt me? Hurt me how?”

“I burdened you all those years, with my weeping and pathetic pleas for comfort after my mother hurt me. When I could only feel safe shrouded in your warmth. I needed you. And I need you now. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.”

Nothing felt real. You reached a hand out, and Sirius lowered himself so that his cheek rested in your palm. It was cold.

“You’re cold.” You stated blankly.

“I’m fine.” He protested.

You pulled him into your bed. Seconds later, you stretched out your arms. With a sob of relief, Sirius fell into your embrace. He cried silently into your neck for a while, reminiscent of the time you helped him as a kid, except this time you were both much bigger. You pet his hair affectionately, a tear sliding from your eye. “I missed you so much. I’m so, so in love with you. You don’t even need to love me back. I just… need this.” He said, voice muffled as he presses his face into your shoulder.

“…I never stopped loving you.” You admit, pulling him in closer.

~~~

You both spoke through the night, smiling and laughing and talking, telling secrets and jokes and all of the inbetween. He was so beautiful in the dim light of the lamp in your dorm. He was so beautiful anywhere. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, sounding lovesick and dazed. You laughed softly. “You don’t even know how beautiful you are. But that doesn’t matter to me.” You kiss his forehead, before pulling back and looking deep into his eyes. “You are good.” He practically melts into you.

Sirius falls asleep safe in the crook of your arm, and you fall asleep with one arm under him and the other around his waist, with the peace of mind that you can protect him always, now. Your boy. Your Siri.

You looked down at him, running your fingers through the roots of his hair. He moans lowly in satisfaction, practically purring as he presses himself against you. “Now we can get married: with Reggie as the best man, just like we dreamed. With a pretty house and a four-poster bed.” You said, a sweet, hopeful smile gracing your lips.

“Mmmh.” Sirius groaned sleepily. “As long as we can christen that bed.” He added, eyes still closed, with that stupid Sirius Black smirk on his face. You scoff, hugging him closer, before falling asleep yourself.

~~~

(Please don’t copy or share any of my writing anywhere else!!)

#marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #marauders #sirius black #marauders era #sirius black scenario #Sirius black💌*~#sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black one shot #sirius black x you #sirius black prompt #sirius black imagine #sirius black oneshot #sirius black angst #regulus black x reader prompt #regulus black x reader

631 notes · View notes

fieldofdaisiies · 1 year ago

Text

Just A Little Bit of Your Heart

ship: Azriel x Reader type: angst word count: 2,4k warnings: curse words, mentions of a one night stand, unexpected pregnancy summary: It was just a one night stand, or that is what you thought... fic masterlist

"The baby will have wings!"

Your hands tremble. And they tremble so much the plate you are holding slips out them, and then shatters when it hits the floor. Splinters fly everywhere, but your best friend is quick to shove you away.

She is faster than you, gently shoving you away before you can lean down to collect the shards. "Not in your current state! Let me do this."

You huff. "I am pregnant, not fragile or ill," you say, still dried tears on your cheeks, and more burning behind your eyes.

"Yes, with a winged baby, because this fool did not pay attention." There is so much fury inside of your best friend, you have never seen this side of her before, her voice drips with venom.

"For making a baby it always needs two people. I am not innocent in this." You crouch down and help your best friend collect the shards of broken glass and—

"Fuck!" You lift your index finger to your mouth, licking the droplet of blood away.

"I told you to let me do this, you are hurting yourself and—" "And what? They baby will still have wings and I will still be pregnant. I just cut my finger, nothing dramatic."

You swallow thickly, slumping onto the ground. You immediately regret your tone and snapping at your best friend. She only wants to help and be there for you…

But it is so much to deal with and then the hormones just intensify everything you are feeling.

The fear, the apprehension about the baby having with wings and the prospect of having to raise the child by yourself, should you survive the birth, finally reach the surface. You tried hide these emotion for so long, but now you fail — they all bubble up, overwhelming you.

You lean against the kitchen counter behind you, pulling your knees up and fold your hands over your face.

Then the damn breaks, tears running out of your eyes, rolling down your cheeks as you sob into your hands.

"I am so scared," you bawl.

Your best friend has already scooted over, careful of the broken pieces of porcelain, and wraps her arm around your shoulders. She pulls you to her chest, letting you cry into her shirt. "I know that the babe has wings, the healer confirmed it. And I am just working in this little shop, I don't earn enough to take care of the child alone."

Your tears wet her shirt, and your best friend holds you tightly, her hand clasping your upper arm. She is becoming your anchor, the only thing you can hold onto in this moment.

"It was so foolish. He said he took the tonic. I also drank the tea the same morning, and neither of those things worked. Conceiving for fae is so difficult, why…"

Your voice breaks and you can't finish your sentence, your throat is dry, burns and the back of your mouth aches.

"It wasn't foolish. You were both careful, and it just happened." Your best friend's voice is softer now, although inside of her a burning fire of fury about the shadowsinger putting a baby that could harm you inside of you. It could cost you your life and she would never forgive him for that.

You exhale a long breath when you lift your head a little, still leaning onto your friend. You rest your head against her shoulder, staring at the window opposite you.

A veil of grey is being drawn over the sky, dark clouds passing by — rain is about to start. You keep staring at the window, sitting in silence as the first raindrops start to fall, landing gently on the window pane. You watch as the rain intensifies, and the sky darkens further until heavy rain pours down and wind whips agains the windows and the walls of the apartment building you are living in.

The atmosphere outside mirrors the whirlwind inside of you, the storm brewing there, the cold and gloomx atmosphere.

There are so many emotions. And these emotions, mostly fear and nervousness, mingle with the hormones that actually make you so very happy that your are growing a little babe inside of you, but at the dame time so sad that the child will have to grow up without a father.

The whole previous evening you spent staring at your round belly in the mirror, sobbing silently to yourself.

With the big wool sweaters you always wear the belly is barely visible, but when naked, one can obviously see the growing bump.

You best friend draws in a deep inhale and leans her head against the top of yours.

"You need to talk to him," she says in a soft voice. "And before you protest, I say so because first of all, he has a right to know. And secondly, and most importantly, he might be able to help you."

You sniff loudly. "How should he help me?"

"The High Lord, who he is close with, has a son with wings. And our High Lady is also only fae, so there must be a possibility."

"What if he wants nothing to do with me?"

"Then you at least tried."

"Don't you think I will only be hurt more?"

You lift your head to look at her. There is a small smile on her lips, one that conveys support and warmth, her eyes shining with empathy.

She shakes her head. "You still have me. I won't leave you alone with this. I never would. But you still have to tell him."

You don't want to do it, you don't want to face Azriel, don't want to tell him, but you know she is right. You have to do it. He has a right to know.

This was a one night stand.

You somehow caught the male's attention in a small bar in Velaris, and somehow he ended up in your bed. When you woke up, Azriel slipped into his trousers and out of your flat within a few moments. He was gone without a word, disappeared into the shadows, and you haven't heard from him since. You don't even know how to contact him.

You don't know where he lives? Does he live with the High Lord? Or in this huge house on the mountain? With the general of the Illyrian armies and his mate?

"I don't know what to say to him," you whisper.

The rain outside intensifies. Your friend uncurls her arm from around your shoulder, bringing it forward so she can clasp your hand in hers.

She places a soft kiss to the top of your head and in a calm voice she says, "Tell him what you told me. That you don't understand how it happened and that you are afraid and want nothing more than his help."

"What if I want more than that?" You bite back a sob and turn your head a little.

"What if I want a little part of his heart. For the baby. If it—if we survive this, I want my baby to have a father. I want my baby to know its father." A single tear slips our of your eye and your friend quickly wipes it away with her thumb.

"That is something to think about in the future. You need to think about yourself now, sweetie. You matter now, everything else is open for the future."

You nod, trying to agree with her, but the thoughts about the possibility of the baby never meeting its father are gnawing on you.

And they keep gnawing on you the whole night where you lie awake, shifting and turning, your back aching, and tears still wetting your cheeks and pillow.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Cold sweat coats your back, your palms. Your knees wobble, and your whole body trembles as you lift your hand, drawing in a deep inhale. Then another. And another. Your hand rests on the cool door handle, but you can't bring yourself to pull it down.

He really came.

You can hardly believe it. He got your letter, and he is truly here. Until a few moments ago, you doubted it. You did not think he would really follow your invite. You were very vague in your letter, only mentioned that if he remembers you you would have something important to discuss with him. It could have been a trap, but he must have recognised the urgency in your wording, must habe known he could trust you.

Drawing in another breath, you finally pull down the handle and your lips part as your eyes land on him.

He is…still the most beautiful male you have ever seen in your life, covered in darkness and shadows, expression stoic, eyes glowing with curiosity.

But he came!

"You came," you whisper, voice trembling.

Your heart beats in your throat, hammering so fast and hard you think it might burst right through your ribcage.

It was just a one-night stand, a fleeting moment of passion, but you still remember him so vividly. How he touched you, how he kissed you, how he held you. And how he left. You felt used and sad after it, but you shouldn't have. Both of you only wanted fun for a night, but still it somehow hurt when he left.

"You called." His voice is flat, no emotion in it as he speaks. His face is not necessarily cold, but nonchalant, emotionless.

Azriel is nothing but darkness as he stands there, shadows swirling around him, stretching out towards you.

He eyes you closely, jaw clenched slightly.

You barely know him, only know his body, but he is now connected to you in the most profound way possible. You carry a part of him inside of you. Your child. His child.

Azriel's face is a mask of unreadable emotions, some clouds darken his eyes and you can’t tear your eyes away from his.

"I wasn't sure you if you—" "I do remember you."

Something, some unreadable emotion passes over his face, and a muscle in his jaw ticks. His hands, those scarred hands you felt all over your body, are folded behind his back, and he stands in a stance, almost like he is ready to fight whatever is about to come. A stern warrior, and not the passionate male you lay with.

"Come in?" you say, your voice trembling slightly as you step aside to let him enter. Azriel hesitates, but eventually he walks in, gaze wary as it sweeps through the inside of your room. He is looking for possible danger, making sure the place is safe and you can't blame him for it. Your invite must have sound cryptic, he is careful and that is alright.

"Why did you invite me?" Azriel asks, finally speaking up and taking the weight from your shoulder to open the conversation.

You are wringing for the right words to explain it all as you lead him over to the kitchen counter. You lean against it, your gaze moving to his eyes.

You drop your glamour, and try to hold his gaze, but suddenly Azriel starts to sniff the air, his brows furrowing as he looks around him. It almost looks like understanding dawns on him, whirlwinds of emotions glowing in his eyes. He must sense it in this moment.

"I am with child!" you blurt out.

The words are so loud in the room, they bounce off the walls and hollow through the room. Through your mind, making you feel dizzy for a second.

You move your hand over your round belly, smoothing out the sweater, to show him the bump.

The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the sound of your own ragged breaths.

Azriel says nothing, his face pales, his shoulders slump, and his whole expression and posture crumbles.

He blinks, as if trying to process what you have just revealed. Although his face is unreadable, you can see the storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface.

"Is it mine?" he asks and you want to face-palm him. You would do it, if it were under different circumstances.

"Of course, it is yours. The babe has wings!"

The tone you have chosen wasn't alright, he could not have known, you could have been with other males…but why would you invite him and tell him then?

This revelation shatters him truly. Azriel begins to vehemently shake his head, like he can feel the weight of what the baby having wings means.

"No," he whispers, and then repeats the word over and over again. He brings a hand up, brushes his hair back and shakes his head again. "No, that can't be. You took the tonic, I did too. How did that happen?"

"I also don't have an explanation, I only know that I am with child now. A baby with wings." Your chin quivers, lower lip starting to tremble. You feel how your body begins to shake, blood rushing in your ears.

"And I am afraid."

Once again the damn breaks, and a sob rips itself free.

Azriel says nothing, just stands there.

"I understand that it is a lot to take in, that this is difficult, but I needed to tell you."

You suck in a sharp breath, your tears tasting salty in your mouth. "I just thought you deserved to know. It was a one-night stand, and I never planned for any of this to happen, but it did, and I can't keep it a secret from you."

You feel so vulnerable in this moment, your heart cracking open, everything inside you convulsing.

It somehow angers you that he says nothing, but you had more time to deal with the newly learned information, he only found out now. Maybe he just needs more time to process.

"I don't know what to say," he admits, his voice softer, and for the first time he lets his own emotions show, vulnerability flashing brightly in his eyes. "This is... unexpected. Overwhelming."

You nod, biting down on your lower lip. With the back of your hand you wipe away some tears.

"I don't expect anything from you, I just…if the baby and I survive this, all I am asking for is a little bit of your heart. Not for me, for the babe."

Your voice is so terribly shaky, tears welling up in your eyes again as you try to hold his gaze. "I didn't expect it either," you whisper, wiping away a tear. "But I want the baby to know its father. If it ever comes to that."

Azriel is the one to suck in a breath now, the weight of his own childhood crashing down on him. Everything, every little pain when he was a child, bubbles up inside of him and his body starts to shake.

The room is filled with a heavy silence once more. It feels like the walls are moving in on you, the room growing smaller and smaller, almost suffocating you.

As you wait for his response, your heart still races, but now it's not just with fear. There's a glimmer of hope, a spark of possibility that maybe, just maybe, he will grant you this wish and be a father for the child if it comes to that.

"We are going to see my healer, the High Lord's healer. She knows about wings, she knows about babes with wings. You are not alone in this."

Azriel's steps are so fast, so unexpected, he hesitates for a moment, but suddenly his arms wrap around your shoulders and he embraces you tightly, his chin coming to a rest on top of your head.

"I am not leaving you alone in this. It comes as a shock and I am sorry about my reaction, but this child is as much mine as it is yours, and it will have a part of my heart." His arm wraps around you tighter. "It will have my whole heart."

He swallows, his chest heaving with a deep inhale and your curl your own arms around him, loud sobs ripping themselves free, muffled in the fabric of his shirt. "And so will you."

~~~~~~~~~~ tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22 @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @callmeblaire

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar #acosf

1K notes · View notes

cntloup · 8 months ago

Text

After almost four months of working for Simon, you take a maternity leave... and your feelings for him start to bubble up

Simon bumps into you, a troubled woman whose boyfriend kicked her out after he found out she's pregnant

He holds you, gently rubbing your back as your stomach heaves and you throw up your lunch. You're in your third trimester and it’s been hell for you.

You sob onto his chest while clinging to him, from the agonizing pain in your abdomen and the unbearable nausea.

“Shh, it’s ok, luvie. I've got you.” he coos, holding you tighter and cradling your head against his chest as you bawl your eyes out.

Even though your mind is somewhat dazed, your heart still flutters at the nickname.

In almost four months of working as his assistant, you slowly drifted closer and closer to each other.

But you still don't know if you'd call yourselves friends or not, it's something more, yet less than what you wish to be.

After a few minutes spent on the bathroom floor in his office, you finally calm down a bit.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t think I can work like this.” you apologize sheepishly while looking up at him through glossy eyes, still in his arms.

“That’s fine. You'll be on leave until you’re ready.” he says, looking back at you through hooded eyes.

“Really? There's no problem with that?”

“Yeah. It's ok. We'll get a substitute for now. The leave is with pay of course so no worries about money problems.” he responds and you throw your arms around him happily and hug him as well as you can with your swollen tummy, “Oh, Simon! Thank you so much.”

“ ‘s nothin’.” he replies while hugging you back.

“You can come stay with me, you know?” he mentions as he pulls away to look at you, your hair disheveled and your eyes puffy and red while sitting on the bathroom floor after throwing up for nearly half an hour, but oh how he still adores you... in this state... or in any state to be honest.

“Are you sure?” you whisper, throat too hoarse to speak any louder.

“I’m sure.” he replies sternly with a nod and you gaze into his eyes gratefully.

“I’ll help you pack up.” he adds, taking your silence and the look you just gave him as a yes.

“Thank you.” you say and try to get up, but fail miserably with your huge belly and utter exhaustion.

He gets up first and helps you up, “Careful, luv.” he murmurs as you stumble a bit, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you steady.

He helps you gather your stuff and carefully walks you to his car to drop you off at his place, his hand finding your waist and the other one holding yours.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be fine alone?” he asks with concern as he pulls up into his driveway.

“Yes, I'm gonna be fine for a few hours. In fact, I'm gonna take a nap.” you respond reassuringly with a smile.

“Take care, luv.” he smiles and you wave goodbye.

He leaves as you step inside the house and close the door.

You lean against the door and let out a squeal and giggle like a schoolgirl.

And you don’t even know why. Is it the hormones? Is it him?

It’s been a while since he’s making you feel some type of way.

You settle on the couch to take a nap, not wanting to take up his bed even though you know he wouldn’t mind. But still, it feels like an invasion of his privacy.

You don’t get much sleep as your mind and heart are encompassed by him.

You keep tossing and turning. For hours. Even though you’re utterly exhausted.

Until he returns home and walks over to you, “Hey... why didn't you sleep on the bed?” he asks with furrowed eyebrows.

“Well, I didn’t really sleep at all.” you mumble as you try to get up, looking at him over the back of the couch.

“Why? You ok?” he asks with a concerned look etched on his face as he helps you sit up on the couch and he sits beside you.

“I’m fine, Si. It's just that... the hormones are making me feel weird is all.” you ramble, not really knowing how to answer him, also using the nickname which he insisted on you using. It just makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“Do you need to go to the doctor?” he questions further, worry creeping up on him.

“No. It's fine. I'll take some pills and try to get some sleep. Don't worry.” you try to play it cool and shrug it off.

He gently carries you to bed and brings your meds, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing them to you with a glass of water.

“Get some rest, luv. I'll make you something to eat.” he mutters while tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear as you lie down, eyes locked onto one another, making your heart skip a beat.

You let out a sigh and shut your eyes after he leaves, in hopes of getting even a little bit of much-needed sleep.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #cod x reader #ghost x reader #cod fanfic #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #mw2 #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty x reader

1K notes · View notes

hattiewritesalot · 6 months ago

Text

am i allowed to cry?

Eris Vanserra x fem!reader

Summary: After a particularly harsh punishment from his father, Eris is left choking on his own emotions, and the guilt that comes with them. Pain is weakness, until it comes to his mate, Y/N. Set before the events of ACOTAR

Warnings: parental abuse, mentions of Beron 🤢, lots of angst, lots of hurt/comfort. unedited lol

A/N: I’ve had this idea in my head for ages and I figured I should finally write it (title is from guilty as sin by Taylor Swift)

———————————————————————————

Eris’ shaking hand clutches at the cloak he’s wrapped around his aching form, stumbling and limping back to his chamber, desperate to get somewhere private before, Cauldron forbid, any of his brothers see him.

The lashes on his back sting with the force of a thousand needles, the prickly pain curling around his spine and puncturing his muscles.

They’ve never hurt like this before. Maybe he’s getting weak.

Eris Vanserra would rather die than be known as weak, but right now? With gory gashes up his back? With bitter tears pooling at his lashlines? With a broken heart to match the shattered fragments of his childhood? He’s nothing but weak.

Weak. Weak. Weak.

He’s a dishonour to his family, to his court, to his people- to his mate. His precious mate, with her soft hair and sweet smile. She’s always been too good for him. His father himself had uttered it under his breath the moment he’d introduced Y/N to his family.

He hopes she isn’t in their chambers.

He hopes she’ll never see this weakness that has possessed him.

He shoves the heavy door open, eyes darting around the vacant room. Thank the Mother, Y/N must still be on her evening trip to the library. He moves quickly, tossing the bloodstained cloak on the floor, and turning towards the mirror.

The pale skin of his back is torn, the crimson of his blood coating just about every inch of it, covering the splashes of freckles and old scars.

Eris can’t control the tears that start to trickle down his cheeks.

This is dreadful. Not the gashes, those he’s used to. But the tears. He’s not allowed to cry. When did he become so weak!? When did he let himself become so susceptible to the raging emotions that have taken hold of his soul? When did-

“There you are, I was wondering when you’d be back-“ Y/N walks out of the bathroom, a bright smile on her face, but she’s too quick for him to hide.

Her face falls. She sees the blood. She sees the wounds. She sees the tears.

She sees the weakness.

Eris can’t speak. The only thing that comes out of his mouth is a loud sob.

Weak. Weak. Weak.

But then, her gentle voice fills his ears, and her hands cradle his face, lips kissing away the tears on his cheeks. “You’re okay.” She murmurs. “You’re gonna be okay, honey. I’ve got you.” He sobs harder. She fetches a cloth, hastily soaking it with cold water, and starts to swipe at the blood on his back, letting him bawl into the crook of her neck like a baby. “I’ve got you. Let it out, Eris. You’re allowed to cry.” No, he’s not. He’s weak. Weak, weak, weak-

“You’re so strong, baby.” She whispers.

…what?

“You’re so strong, so brave. You’ve been holding this in for so long.” She kisses his hair, continuing to gently wipe the blood away. “My strong mate, I love you so much.”

“No-“ He chokes out. “No. I’m weak.”

“Why do you think you’re weak, Er?”

He frowns. Isn’t it obvious? “I’m crying.”

“You just got beaten by your father. I’d be surprised if you weren’t crying.”

“But still, I shouldn’t be crying. I shouldn’t be weak.”

“I cry. Do you think I’m weak?”

He gapes at her. “N-no-“

“Exactly. Case closed. You’re not weak either.”

He’s silent for the next ten minutes while she treats his wounds. He watches her pretty face, pondering what he did to be so lucky to be her mate.

When she’s done, she pulls him down on the bed with her, positioning him to lie on his stomach between her legs. She twists his red hair in her fingers. “So strong.” She repeats. And the heir to the Autumn Court says nothing, nuzzling his nose into his mate’s neck. If she thinks he’s strong, then by the Cauldron, he supposes he is.

———————————————————————————

i am an eris vanserra stan first and then a person

#eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris vandaddy #eris x oc

329 notes · View notes

vampcubus · 1 year ago

Text

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, sub!yandere!izuku, dom!fem!reader, kinda mean reader, izuku being delusional & obsessive, spitting, oral (f!receiving), not proofread.

I wanna bully Yandere Izuku just a bit, just to watch him crumple at the slightest crumb of attention. Because let’s face it, Izuku doesn’t care if you’re being nice to him. He wants you to perceive him, to acknowledge him as something tangible — something worth your time. And if you spend that time pulling on his chubby cheeks and hooking your fingers in his mouth to spit into it, who is he to try and stop you?

If he can’t be with you, he can at least be entertaining for you. If you say all he’s good for is to spread his legs and fuck himself on his fingers while you watch, who is he to disagree? All that processes in his fuzzy little head is that he’s good for something.

It’s just fun at first, teasing your pathetic little stalker to see him trip over himself. You didn’t mean for it to go this far, but you can’t deny that the creep has grown on you. After all, who else would get on their knees and worship the ground you walk on while being treated like a pet? Not many, which makes Izuku a special case that you just can’t get enough of.

Your conscience is telling you to get outta there, that playing with someone’s feelings that was so clearly ill for you was a bad idea. You can imagine the fit he’d throw if you proposed such an idea, actually quite vividly because he’s throwing it right now.

“What do you mean we shouldn’t see each other anymore? I thought things were going so well!” He sobs into your thigh, his arms and legs clinging to your leg like a child. Your hands hover just above his head awkwardly, unsure if you should really be comforting him right then. “You can’t break up with me now!”

“Break up? We were never even a thing. There’s nothing to break up. I let you follow me around and we had a bit of fun, but really this is getting out of control. I mean, I’m using you, you know?”

Izuku doesn’t seem to be hearing you though, too caught up in his own delusions. You had expected him to take it poorly, but this was worse than you thought.

“You weren’t concerned about using me before. Why are you abandoning me all of a sudden? I just wanna make you happy!” The man bawls, and you’re ashamed by how the pathetic look on his face excites you.

He was pretty, even when he cried.

“Don’t you see that whatever fantasy world you live in isn’t real? I told you from the beginning that a relationship between us was impossible.”

“But you keep coming back to me. That means I’m useful to you, right? I’ve been so good for you. I’ve stopped following you around as much and I’ve been taking less of your stuff like you asked me to! I’ve done everything you asked without question, you can’t throw me away now!” Izuku’s fingers twist in your shirt, and he uses it as leverage to drag himself up from the floor.

“Izuku,” you sigh, more protestations resting on the tip of your tongue, but he beats you to the punch.

“Let me prove to you how much you need me. That no one can make you feel as good as I can, can submit to you like I can.” He sinks to his knees before you, like he’s done countless times before, his shaking hands pulling your skirt up so he can mouth at your cunt through the cotton of your panties.

Your knees buckle at the contact, your hand rushing down to hold the back of his head despite yourself. You can only sigh and let him lap at you, letting him tug your panties down your legs to suckle at your oversensitive pussy properly.

You have to admit that he’s gotten much better at this. You can vividly remember the first time you let him go down on you, teaching him how to eat you out the way you liked it. And you can tell now that he’d memorized every word, every moan of approval and scrap of praise you’ve thrown his way because he knows just where you need his slick tongue to tease.

Izuku still moans excitedly into your pussy after all this time, as if the act itself was pleasurable for him too. Not knowing that he dreamed of it years before you met officially, or how he fucked his fist until his cock was raw at the thought of tasting you. He savors every swipe of his pink tongue over you abundant slick like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to, and with a hitch of his breath, tears spring to his eyes when he realizes that it might be.

If he didn’t do a good job you’d leave him.

#‧₊🦇˚⊹ ashi writes #yandere izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #yandere!izuku midoriya #sub!izuku #sub izuku #sub deku #yandere deku #dom!reader #dom reader #female reader #fem!reader #sub mha #sub bnha

1K notes · View notes

ediewentmissing · 2 years ago

Text

angst and comfort :(

You jolt up from Eddie’s bed in a cold sweat. You feel gross. Your hands are clammy and your face is wet with tears. As you drift into proper consciousness, visions from your nightmare flicker through your mind; Eddie slowly levitating up and into the air while you’re frantically searching for his favourite mixtape, bawling your eyes out as his bones snap one by one and his body topples in a heap on the hardwood floor.

You start to crying again, sniffling and hiccuping. You go to recite music in your mind, lyrics one by one. Music is your main coping strategy, so this time when it can’t calm you down, you go to your only other source - your best source - of happiness: Eddie.  The problem was that Eddie just came home from a nine hour shift at the automotive, and he was exhausted. He went to bed almost immediately, throwing himself onto the sofa and drifting goff within minutes.

You didn’t want to wake him up.

You sobbed in bed for a while longer, slowly weighing the pros and cons of interrupting his well-deserved sleep.

Eventually, you told yourself, Fuck it, and got out of the blankets.

The springs groaned underneath you as you got up. It was only then that you realised how torn up you really were. The night air hit your body and you could feel the grogginess floating away, being replaced by sheer cold. You nervously shuffled your way to the living room, shivering a bit.

Eddie’s body lay peacefully on the sofa, sloppily covered by the worn-out blanket on top of him that you offered him before he retired for the night.

You stood nearby, watching his chest rise and fall and listening to his slightly heavy breathing. Although gazing at him was pleasantly calming at first, it soon brought back vivid flashes of the nightmare; screaming, shaking Eddie vigorously, trying desperately to get him to wake up, his empty eye sockets and bleeding face staring back at you. The thoughts make you choke down a sob and Eddie stirs.

“E-Eddie?” You hesitate, but finally being yourself to speak up. He stirs again. “Eddie?”

He hums in response, not recognising the anxiousness in your voice because he’s still half-asleep. You walk up to him, trembling from the cold and from fear and tap his head lightly. You sniffle and he opens his eyes to find you looking terrified. He blinks a couple times to get himself to awaken completely.

He sits up and beings you in for a hug, as you shed tears against his shirt, “Hey, hey, hey. Sh. It’s okay. ‘M here. I’ve gotcha, sweetheart.”

You sit down with him and bury your head deep in his chest, wanting to be held and wanting to feel his heart beat to confirm that he was well and truly alive.

He holds your head and runs his calloused fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp lightly with one hand and holding your lower back with the other. His body is warm. It’s like hugging a teddy bear. It feels perfect against your icy flesh.

He waits until you’ve settled down, your breathing was still hitching regularly, but the sobbing had stopped. He pulls you away from his chest so he can see your face, dotting kisses on your forehead and rubbing your arm.

“What happened?”

“Nightmare…” You pause, “again.” He pulls you in again and rests his chin on your head.

“S-Sorry.” You splutter, guilt suddenly striking you.

“No, no. Don’t be. Not your fault in the slightest.” His voice vibrates against you soothingly.

“Uh,” You look down, separating yourself from him, “Could you come and sleep with me in the bed?” And his big, comforting smile told you everything you needed to know.

2K notes · View notes

sea-lanterns · 7 months ago

Note

Ohh, interesting Navia headcannon. She’s a little baby, the older courtesans would just look at her sweating and pacing, look at each other, and be like😬… STOP THE NURSES WOULD LOOK AT NAVIA,

Nurse: “Are you the other mother?”

Navia: “Huh? No- She is, *points at other totally chill looking courtesan*”

NOT THE NURSES GETTING CONCERNED FOR NAVIA EVEN THO THE EMPRESS IS THE ONE IN LABOR 😭

AND SHES NOT EVEN THE MOTHER.

This is so cute and hilarious at the same time. Just all the courtesans watching as Navia bawls her eyes out on behalf of the Empress, squeezing her hands to let her know she’s there, while Navia is on the verge of passing out from the stress.

The nurses are so worried for Navia that when they ask if she’s the other mother, Navia just sobs and shakes her head no, pointing to the actual mother of the baby being born, and it’s Courtesan Yelan who’s calm and gently patting the head of the Empress like this wasn’t the biggest day of her life.

The contrast between Courtesan Yelan and Navia is so funny. Yelan is chill because she knows you are tough and she’s there to be your rock, while Navia is a blonde puddle on the floor because she probably passed out when she saw the head—

I love my wife.

#🫧feeding the fishes #empress au

192 notes · View notes

leviraaaaaa · 1 year ago

Text

"Can I... help you?"

He looked up at the hesitant, quiet voice, catching your eyes staring at his in the mirror in front of him. You were standing in the bathroom door behind him, unease clear in your body language.

That, for some reason, made his heart throb.

Why did you look uneasy? You were never uncomfortable, never with him.

And for the first time in all the years he's known you, Levi couldn't read your eyes. Blank since the moment Levi opened his own.

And the stubborn, stubborn part of him wanted to say, no. To tell you to leave, that he can do it by himself.

And another, softer, hidden part of himself urged him to let you. He craved you and your touch, no matter how fleeting they would be, the barest brush of fingertips against skin, he craved it. He'd take it, he'd take what he gets. He wanted it. So bad.

And despite his heart pounding warning bells in his chest, he nodded, looking up to meet your eyes again.

Self control went out the door when it was you.

"Just..." He hesitated, he'd be lying if he said it didn't sting his ego. He wished he looked better. Less pathetic.

But he gestured at his face. "The rest I can do by myself."

Levi was a mess of bandages. He had clumsily wrapped it around his damaged hand, and then attempted to do his face. But couldn't seem to do much with the state of his hand. And of course, he'd rather bleed here out to death than ask anyone for help.

You carefully stepped around the med vials lying on the floor to stand infront of him. Then, slowly, cautiously, you worked your hands. Despite the efforts, he still winced when your fingers accidentally added pressure but he remained silent, biting down on his lips at the sting his wounds caused because of the meds.

Levi tried his best to focus on the ache. It was better than focusing on you, on how damn close you were. His knees almost touched your and you had one hand placed on his shoulder, every once in a while cradling his jaw, positioning his face so you could work better.

He felt bad when you muttered out apologies. He couldn't tell you that it wasn't the meds, it was the feel of your fingers that burnt more than anything.

Straight into his heart.

"So, you're done avoiding me?" Levi asks casually, glancing at your focused, but otherwise empty expression.

"I wasn't avoiding you." You replied blankly, denying the very true accusation.

"You haven't been anywhere near me since I've woken, let alone talk to me. That's avoiding."

"I wasn't avoiding you." You were avoiding him.

"You refuse to even look at me in the eyes, kid."

"I wasn't," You repeated. "avoiding you."

"Is it the scars? Does that repluse you?"

"Captain."

One single warm teardrop skidded over your face.

His eyes met yours as you looked away, eyes widened in confusion.

"Are you.. are you crying?"

"No." You shook your head, trying your best not to be so obvious when you obviously dragged your arm over your face to wipe your eyes.

"What? Was it something I said?"

"No." You shook your head again. You felt his gaze searing through you, setting your skin on fire.

You swallowed.

Why were you here?

No, why was he here?

Why was he wrapped in bandages and his skin tainted with bruises and bloody wounds as if he didn't have enough scars to begin with? Hadn't he suffered enough?

"I thought you were dead."

You spoke finally, the barest whisper, but you felt him stiffen. You turned to look at him, fingers running carelessly over the deep scars, careful enough to not hurt him. Your fingertips turned red with his blood

His blood.

You dared not look at his damaged eye. Scared that the raw sight of his pain might just be enough for you to break.

"Well, I'm not." He said, voice bitter. "So stop bawling."

You let out a half sob-half laugh.

And then you dropped. Onto the ground, right between his legs.

Your hands found his hands, cautious fingers wrapped around his. Focusing to not touch his injured fingers.

"Captain."

He stared, wide eyes staring down at you.

But he didn't pull away.

"If I beg you," He knew before you even spoke. And you knew his answer before you even finished. "To not do this. To not go out there. To not fight. To stay here and stay alive. Would you listen to me?"

"And what?" His voice was soft. There wasn't anger, there wasn't annoyance. Just gentleness. "Let you brats go off and kill yourselves?"

You shook your head. Again. Again.

The image of him broken and bloody refused to leave you.

You can't let him die.

You won't let him die.

"I beg of you," You were desperate, on the edge. You looked down, letting go of his hands only to cover your own face as tears streamed down in full flow, blurring your vision. Another hand wrapped around your own hair.

What do you do when it was oxygen that was choking you?

You pulled your hair, hard, trying to release the nightmares.

"Stay here," You gasped, eyes wide. "Stay in with Gabi and Falco and Annie."

"I'm on my knees, begging you. Im begging you to just fucking listen to me. Just this once, step the fuck down. You don't have to keep fighting. Not this time."

Gray, gray eyes on yours.

Could he hear the crack in your voice? Did he know those were the sounds of your heart falling apart?

But you knew when you looked at him.

It was your turn to stay silent. You knew you couldn't persuade him, but you had to try.

You had to.

Your head was splitting in halves and it took everything you had to keep them together. Don't break, don't break, don't break.

But slowly, hands wrapped around yours gently pulling them away from the grip you had in your hair.

"Hey. Look at me."

You shook your head.

You wanted to look at him. You really did. You'd look at him forever if you could. Because maybe, maybe this was the last time you'd ever get to.

But you didn't want him to look at you.

"Look at me." His hand pulled your chin up, making you look at him.

Such pretty eyes.

You lost all ability to function properly.

"If I told you, all of you, to sit back, would you?" He knew the answer, just as you did.

"That's not—" You attempted to protest.

"That's the very same thing. If not us than who?"

"It doesn't have to be you."

"Damn well it has to be me. I didn't survive through all that to back off now. You know that as well as I do, so why are you being soppy?"

".... because," You were exasperated. "I don't want you to die,"

"None of us will die." He said firmly.

"You almost died."

"But I didn't die."

"You could've " you whispered. "I watched the life drain out of you with every passing second."

Had your lungs stopped working? You wondered. Why else was it so hard to breathe?

"I was soaked in your blood." You were so quiet, you could hardly hear yourself.

"I had to stich those up. I had to wrap those damn bandages. I had my fingers pressed to your pulse the whole time so I'd know you were still alive." You said, voice breaking a little more with every word and with every word you lost a part of your soul, the memories were parasites feeding on your brain and you couldn't get them out.

"I killed people." You said. "I killed comrades I grew up with, fought side by side with years. And I didn't hesitate for one second because they were a threat to you. Because they were going to hurt you. With my own damn hands, I shot then down. Hange had to physically hold me back from striking Floch and Zeke." Levi's knuckles were white, and with every word you said, his fingers only dug deeper into your own hand.

"I can't let you die, captain. I won't." You shook your head. "Not when I'm alive. You don't get to die first."

There was silence. Two hearts beating, and it sent echoes along the small bathroom, wrapping the two of you around in the sound. Breathing was a myth, you thought. And overrated. Because every soft inhale only made your lungs bleed.

"As stubborn as always, aren't you brat?" Levi finally spoke, his words were unsure, as if he wasn't quiet certain what to say. But you didn't miss the slightest way his breath hitched. He sighed, eyes downcast. "Always being such a pain in the ass."

Levi hesitated. He was never very good with words.

"..but I'm grateful for you." He said. "You piss me off, but I'm grateful for you. I hope you know that." He said slowly, locking eyes with you, hesitantly putting a hand over your head, placing an awkward pat. "I appreciate all that you've done for my sake and..all that you're prepared to do. And I appreciate your concerns. But this–" He pulled away his hand, making a frustrated gesture towards himself. "Protecting me isn't your job. I'm the captain, kid. You don't have to worry about me."

And for a few seconds you didn't say anything.

"No." You finally said, shaking your head, a sad smile tugging your lips. Typical Levi, you thought. You hadn't expected anything less. "It's always that, isn't it? It's always your duty first."

And you sighed.

"Tell me captain." You looked up. "Is that all I am to you? A soldier?"

Levi's eyes widened, mouth parting as he gaped at you.

"You're.." He swallowed, looking down at you.

Is that all you were? He thought as he looked down on you.

No.

You weren't just a soldier, never was. Not to him.

You were always something more. Something he never dared admit to himself.

"...a comrade." He blurted out. "A friend."

He shook his head. "You're someone I trust."

You only stared.

Suddenly, the bathroom door burst open, the loud noise making the two of you jolt. You snapped your head towards it to see Hange standing in the doorway with a grim expression, hands folded over their chest.

"Oi, you two." They said. "Meet us downstairs, we're holding a meeting." Their eyes fell on Levi and they frowned. "Levi," They sighed, pursing their lips at Levi's bandaged state. "I personally wish you'd just stay in bed, but I also know you wouldn't listen."

"I tried, Hange." You reply in a defeated voice.

"Yeah, thought so." They sigh.

"Tch." Levi clicked his tongue, glancing from you to Hange. "What is this? I could be half dead and I'll still be more capable than any if you." He shook his head.

Hange was about to retort something back at him, scowling and parting their mouth, but you cut them off.

"You go ahead, Hange." You said. "We'll just finish up here."

You watched as Hange left, shutting the door close.

Then you stood up slow, setting your hands on his knees to push yourself up.

"Captain." You spoke softly.

"Wherever you go, I go. I'd follow you straight to hell. Me and you. We stick together."

Then you leaned forward, planting a kiss on his brow. He went instantly rigid beneath your touch.

"If we survive, me and you.." You whispered, closing your eyes. "I'll tell you something, captain. Something I've always wanted to tell you."

You pressed your forehead against his, your hands on his shoulders. Your heart pounded, but you couldn't have cared less. You only wanted to savor the warmth of his skin against yours, this moment. This was everything.

If you were going to die within a few hours, you might as well.

"So live." You said. "You have to."

@sad-darksoul @anxious-chick

#aot #levi ackerman #levi #levi heichou #captain levi #snk #aot fandom #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #levi x reader #levi angst #captain levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi x you #levi thoughts

511 notes · View notes

hyperfix-wip · 4 days ago

Text

Next to You

Pairing: Hobie Brown x GN!Reader/ Spider-Punk x GN!Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Author's Note: I am not sorry @the-kr8tor , @yumeaoka-chan , @pleaktale. And @rexlroze , YOU have specifically kickstarted the Loser!Hobie rabbit hole, and I have now got myself into loving these losers lmao. I'd like to thank @pinksugarscrub for beta reading for me and helping me out with this piece! Also, this piece contains some spoilers for Arcane Season 2, so don't read it if you don't want to be spoiled!

Tags: Lovestruck!Hobie, Loser!R, Nerd!R, Fluff, Spoilers for Arcane Season 2, Some Explicit Language

Hobie knew what he signed up for when he asked you out.

Despite your typically quiet personality, he knew you were passionate at heart. He knew that when he jumped through the portal to your universe and landed on your bed, only to see you bawling your eyes out over an animated show before you screamed bloody murder from his sudden arrival and fell down on the floor. He knew that when he looked around your room and saw all the posters of different shows and artists covering your walls, all your favorite books and figurines lined up on your shelves, the sketchbooks filled with all of your favorite characters in your specific art style. He knew that when his eyes landed on your pajama bottoms with some cute bison-like mascot from a show he overheard you talk about with Miles at the Spider Society.

Even if you were scrambling off the floor, too flustered to make any coherent words to him while struggling to pause your show, he knew he liked this new side of you he discovered. And he especially knew he he was smitten with you the moment he asked you about the show you were watching, watching your eyes instantly light up before you drag him onto the bed and restart the show for him, obliviously nestling against his side while you eagerly ran your mouth about the premise of the show.

Yeah, he knew what he signed up for when he asked you out after binging the whole series with you.

Which was why he was prepared for you bawling your eyes out and smearing clear snot on his shirt while he cradled you in his arms. He gently shushed you while the end credits quietly ran in the background, running his long nimble fingers through your hair before pressing his lips against the top of your head.

“ ’s okay, lovie,” he whispered against your skin as he peppered more tender kisses, “I know, I know…”

Hiccups and sobs wracked up your body as you buried your face into his chest, your voice muffled into the cotton fabric. “It’s– It’s not fair! They were– they were together again! The writers couldn’t even let them be together for one full day?!”

Hobie quietly pulled the fluffy duvet from the end of your bed over the two of you, wrapping you into a tight embrace within the blanket and in his arms. “I know, darling, I know…”

“It’s just– it hurts so much! The fact that Isha was the one who did that, and it just paralleled with–”

“Yes, I know, luv–”

“Like, they didn’t have make Isha’s last moments an alternate version of Powder’s attempt in Season One where Powder’s plan worked–”

“I know, sweetheart–”

“And the pastel colors during the memory sequence for Isha– fuck– she basically remembers the Undercity as this bright and fun place because of Jinx, and not only did Jinx and Vi had to relive the trauma of losing Vander through Warwick again, but Jinx had to basically watch her baby sister, her inner child, and a version of herself sacrifice herself in front of her eyes…”

A hiccup wracked up your body again before fresh tears flooded your red-rimmed eyes, and Hobie wrapped his arms tighter around you while you sobbed into his chest again. “Fuck– I can’t– I don’t think I’m gonna last for the next three episodes–”

Hobie shushed you gently again while brushing his lips along your hairline, his fingers gently scratching your scalp while his other hand reached out for the cup of water he set to the side before you played the new episode. “C’mon, sit up for me, lovie,” he whispered against your forehead before carefully shifting the both of you up against the headboard. “Don’ wan’cha ta turn int’a raisin on me…”

You could only nod with a sniffle in response, blinking away the bleary tears in your eyes and snorting the clear mucus back up your red nose, before you sat up and grabbed the plastic cup from him. The moment you took a sip, the cool water instantly flooded and alleviated your raw throat, and you slowly drained the cup until it turned up empty.

A small smile curled up on Hobie’s lips as he gingerly grabbed the cup from your hands and set it back onto your nightstand. Without another thought Hobie then grabbed the hem of his shirt and peeled it off, goosebumps instantly pricking his skin as the cold air hit it, before gently pushing the shirt against your nose.

“Blow.”

You instantly obliged and blew your nose into his shirt, and he carefully pinched your nose and rubbed the snot off before tossing it across the room and on top of the pile of your dirty laundry in your hamper.

“Kobe.”

“Still don’ know who tha’ bloke is, but sure, lovie.”

A shaky chortle slipped through your lips before Hobie pulled you back into his arms and wrapped the blanket over you two again.

“Y’know, you could've gotten up to get a napkin instead of using your shirt–”

“It is too bloody cold to get out of this bed,” Hobie snickered while tucking your head underneath his chin. “Plus my shirt was already your personal snot rag, so it didn’t make a difference.”

You rolled your eyes with a sniffle before you nuzzled against his chest, and he in turn pressed his lips against your forehead again with a slight smirk. Your television gently illuminated the both of you in the dark, and you glanced up to see the blue light glinting from his piercings and his warm, dark eyes. His face softened at the sight of you, with splotchy skin and red-rimmed eyes, and he couldn't help but find you adorable in that moment. His arms pulled away in lieu of cupping your cheeks with his hands, and he gently tilted your head up to brush his lips against yours in a brief, comforting kiss. Your lips reluctantly parted from each other, with you trying to chase his lips to steal another one in vain, before he wrapped his arms around you in another tight embrace.

“...was this season as good as you hoped it would be, lovie?”

“God, yes, it’s so fucking good.”

Hobie huffed out a small chuckle while you tangled his lanky legs with yours. “Like, I can’t wait for Act Three to come out in a few days, but I also know it’s going to hurt so much watching those last episodes and have to watch the conclusion of it…”

Hobie nodded along with a tender smile as he gazed back down, his chest warming up as you started your cute little rant again. One of his hands trailed up your back and lingered on the back of your neck, gently massaging it while you continued talking.

“Like, I know there is going to be a clusterfuck of emotional damage for me at the end of this season. We still gotta see Ekko and Heimerdinger, we gotta see what’s gonna happen next for Jinx, Vi and Caitlyn, and we also have to deal with Jayce and Viktor– oh my god, that fucking scene of Jayce aiming that fucking cannon at Viktor–”

Hobie’s smile grew softer the more he listened to you, your voice still slightly raw and hoarse from the prolonged crying and your eyes glinted with the same eager light he saw that fateful day months ago, and his chest warms up just the same, his heart just as smitten with you as before.

You instantly stopped talking the moment a weight pressed down against the top of your head, and you pushed your head up to see Hobie’s eyes closed and his lips parted with shallow breaths. Your heart fluttered at the sight of the sleeping man huddled against you, his demeanor relaxed and languid as his lips curled up into a small, boyish smile, before you carefully pulled the blanket over him and pressed a gentle peck against his lips and nestled against him to join him in his slumber.

-----

Song Recommendation of the Day courtesy of @pinksugarscrub

#hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobie brown x reader #hobie x y/n #loser!R #hyperfix wip wips #Spotify

60 notes · View notes

hotpinkstars · 9 months ago

Text

-> cryo characters when they find you crying

synopsis -> most of the cryo characters when they find you crying. self explanatory once again.

characters -> shenhe, wriothesley, eula, ganyu, rosaria, kaeya, charlotte, freminet, layla

warnings -> sad reader, implied female reader on kaeya and eulas (eulas can be looked at as a guy with long hair tho) some imply why reader was crying, some you make up your own scenario, mostly just comfort and worried characters

w/c -> 2.9k

-> shenhe

shenhe understood that sometimes you’ll have your moments, and you’ll need to cry, vent, or just be in her presence, but normally you’d let her know. thats why it was so alarming when she walked into the walls of your safe abode to hear sobs echo through the rooms.

she walked into your shared bedroom to see you curled up on your respective side, body visibly shaking with every cry you let out. she silently sat on her side of the bed and reluctantly puts her hand to the small of your back, letting you know of her presence. you roll over pretty fast, landing your head on her thigh.

“shenhe..” you sniffled, crying into her leg. she jumped a little due to the sudden contact, ending with now your arms around her waist. she was stiff for a while before leaning back against the birch headboard, letting you continue to cry. she silently let you know that it’s okay to shed your tears, and that you can take as much time as you need.

once you settled down, she immediately asked you what happened. you explained why you were so frantic, and if it had someone involved, she was certainly about to go create a bloodbath. if it was just some little thing, maybe an issue you struggle with or just a bad day, she’ll try to talk through it with you (and i emphasize try) and try to get on the same page as you.

-> wriothesley

the one thing he did not expect to find when he walked back into the comfort of your cozy house was you on the living room floor, bawling your eyes out.

it was incredibly alarming. he couldn’t even imagine what could have someone this worked up. he didn’t even bother taking his boots off (which he knows he’ll get scolded for later on) and sped over to where you were, falling to the floor next to you.

“sweetheart, what happened??” he brings you into an embrace, in which you wrap your arms tightly around his large frame. he could feel you shake your head, silently understanding that you’d rather not explain yourself right now.

he picks you up and sets you on the couch, and then gets back on the floor. his knees pop, and a few seconds later you feel his head rest on your abdomen. you bring your hands up to your face and continue to cry for a few minutes longer before settling down, reducing your cries to hiccups. you look down at your husband, who looked up at you, giving you a small smile.

“are you alright?” he asks. he knows its a dumb question- obviously you're not. but he wants to see if you’ll say that.

you hesitate for a second before shaking your head. you could see hurt flash through his eyes, and then you motion with your hands for him to come closer to you so you could hug him. all you wanted right now was his strong embrace.

“you probably want to know why i was on the floor, out of all places, no?” you whisper, brushing his hair back with your fingers.

“i’d like to know why you were crying as hard as you were. it sounded like you were dying,” he sighed, resting his head on your collarbone. “and yes, also why you were on the floor.”

as you explained what happened and why you were crying so hard, he sighed once more before bringing you back down to the floor with him, rocking you side to side and hugging you tight as if you would turn to dust if he let go. you knew you were safe with him by your side, and you know that he feel sympathy towards your situation. next time, he’d just rather you come to him right away during these outbursts. (and yes, you did scold him for the shoes on the carpet. you also made him clean up the small mess he made).

-> eula

you knew eula already had a lot on her plate, hence why you didn’t bother her with such a little matter, this one being tears.

you thought she’d judge you, and that she’d tell you to get up on your feet and that its nothing but a nuisance (considering those are the words she says to herself whenever she sheds a tear or two. it breaks your heart every time, considering she thinks so lowly of herself in her weakest moments).

but when she came into your office to ask you of ambers whereabouts, her face immediately softened as she walked over to your side of the desk, and she gently rested a palm on your back. your head was down, only showing her your scalp and your long, flowy hair. her gesture made your head shoot up, looking around the room and then back at who was currently rubbing your back. thats when you saw eula.

she wore a small, sympathetic grin as she proceeded to massage your neck. you look away, ashamed.

“whats wrong, dear?” she asked with some urgency in her voice, but for the most part it was soft and harmless. “you can talk to me.”

you told her the issue, and she held your hand the whole time. you could see her face make different expressions every once and a while, usually when your explanation took a turn. but she listened, and she was there. she then bent down to give you a small hug, coming around to the other side of your desk and sitting in one of the chairs. she grabbed one of your hands, kissing it softly.

“i’m sorry i didn’t just try to come find you, i..” you trailed off, and she nodded, telling you to keep going. “i just thought… for a second… that you’d tell me to tough it out, like you tell yourself all the time.”

she gave you a shocked expression, immediately composing herself and clearing her throat.

“y/n, i’d never tell you such a thing. thats only what i say to myself because…” she didn’t necessarily have an answer, but she ignored that. “anyways. i’d never put you down for having human emotions. honestly, i’d be incredibly surprised if you didn’t have to cry every so often.”

“but know, i’ll always be here to dry your tears, y/n.”

-> ganyu

you never knew ganyu was such a light sleeper, being as tired as she can be sometimes.

it was midnight, and you two were sleeping in your shared bed. she had her leg covering your knees, and one arm draped over your midsection, making it easier to free yourself of her grasp.

everything felt suffocating. the darkness only made it worse, leading you to stumble into the bathroom and turn on all the lights. you loved ganyu, but you couldn’t lay there with her anymore tonight. you didn’t know why.

but you didn’t think your girlfriend would wake up to your side of the bed slowly getting colder and colder.

as she got out of bed, she walked into the hallway, finding the bathroom light on and light sobs coming from inside. she knocks before walking in, a gasp leaving your mouth as you lock eyes with the qilin for a split second. you look down in embarrassment.

“are you okay? what happened?” she said, her voice slightly raspy, trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes. you could tell she was barely able to comprehend what was happening.

when you explain why you were crying, she sighs, opening her arms wide and leaning against the sink cabinets. you crawl into her lap, hugging her back. she makes sure you’re aware that she cares, and as sleepy as she is, she only wants to comfort you, and that she will make sure that nothing hurts you anymore tonight. she already feels bad enough that you had to come into the bathroom to cry, instead of simply just doing it in bed. because she wouldn’t mind it. she’d do the same things she's doing now.

and she makes sure she clarifies that as soon as you two sit down for breakfast in the morning.

-> rosaria

it was around nine at night, and you knew rosaria wouldn’t be home until two in the morning. which is why you chose now out of all times to have a breakdown.

but you didn’t catch that over breakfast earlier that day, she told you she’d be home earlier so she could get a better nights rest and be able to spend a bit more time with you. so, just as you started to really cry, she walked in the door.

as soon as you heard the key hit the knob, you tried to frantically wipe your face and calm your breathing. but you know that wouldn’t be possible, because she was already through the door and looking at you like you were crazy.

but that look faded when she realized you were seriously crying, bent over the countertop of your kitchen with your head in your hands. she didn’t know whether or not to approach you, so she sat at the barstools on the other side of the counter. you look up, laughing a little.

“i’m sorry, rosa,” you sniffled before motioning for her to hand you the tissues. she tosses them to you and then looks at you once more.

“sorry for what?”

“for greeting you this way. i forgot that you were coming home early today,” you look up, trying to avoid her gaze.

“you don’t have to apologize. at least we’re together, and you’re not crying alone,” she grabs your arm and rubs it up and down. “i wouldn’t want you to be alone when you’re suffering. you know i’ll always make time for you, right?”

you nod.

“now, tell me, what happened? why were you crying?” her motions stopped, and she put her hands nicely across her lap.

when you told her, she sighed, looking down the hallway to her left. she was debating on murdering someone, that someone being the person who hurt you, but she decided against it. she came to the other side of the counter and attempted to give you a comforting back hug. you knew she disliked physical affection, but this was a moment where it was all she could give, so give it she did. she was genuinely a great lover, despite her past and her personality.

-> kaeya

you were out at the market while your husband was at the tavern. it was a bit later at night, but you needed to cook dinner and you didn’t have the right ingredients for your dish of choice.

you overheard the cashier and the person they were checking out talking about kaeya. the customer was asking if he was in a relationship, and the cashier said no. you assumed that they simply didn’t know, but the tears came when the customer started to go on about how much they were hoping that would be the answer, and nobody is exceptionally good enough for him around here.

you set your basket down on an open shelf and rush out of the grocery store. as you were walking home, you were trying very hard to hold the tears in, but they came spilling out.

halfway home, just as your eyes were watering over, you spot kaeya walking the same route. he was a bit ahead of you, so you decided to stay as silent as possible and keep your distance so he didn’t have to see you cry, and wouldn’t have to worry too hard about you.

unfortunately for you, he knows the sounds of your footsteps, and turns around to find you walking at a slow pace with mascara running down your cheeks.

“hey hey hey, whats the matter?” he looks concerned, pacing towards you. you didn’t bother turning away.

“lets just head home,” you said, sniffling and hiccuping between your speech. “i don’t want to attract any more attention to myself than i already have.”

he nodded, understanding before rushing the both of you home.

when you both got into your home, he immediately drew you into a hug, allowing you to sob into his shoulder. he rubbed your arms and back as you proceeded to calm down.

you explained what happened and what was said, and you swore you saw hurt and anger flash through his eyes. he sighs, making sure you knew how much you meant to him, and how much your worth mattered.

at the end of the day, he was your husband, and nobody (not even those stupid jealous ass fans) can take him from you.

-> charlotte

your usually bubbly girlfriend was not so bubbly and happy when she stepped in your shared home to hear light sobs coming from the bedroom.

she opened the door to see you curled up in a ball, crying into her pillow.

“whats going on? are you okay, y/n?” she rushes up to you, internally panicking and trying to calm herself down as she was calming you down. it took everything she had to not cry with you- she hates seeing her loved ones in pain. she spooned you for a while as you calmed down, stroking her fingers through your hair in the meantime. she didn’t want to scare you away or be too intrusive, so she let you speak about your issue if you wanted, and if you didn’t, then she wouldn’t push it.

but if you were to, she’d listen very well. she’d sit there, criss cross, and be very attentive. if you needed something, she’d go fetch it. if you simply wanted her to hug you, she would! but if you wanted her to try to talk to the person, she would, (and maybe, just maybe, with your permission, put this as an issue worthy of the steambird) and at this point she’d do anything for you.

and in the end, she’d make your favorite food and… selfie time!!!! mirror selfies, the sticking-your-tongue-out-and-making-a-peace-sign, or those cheesy couples photos of a full makeout session. but as long as it makes you laugh, she’s completely on-board!

-> freminet

you were simply just cuddling with your boyfriend when you started to cry, simply breaking down in his arms. he was a little clueless at first, bringing your chin up to him to look at your face. you looked like you had a lot of pain behind your laughter, laughing about how you don’t know why you just started crying, and that it was dumb of you to even do that in the first place. that you didn’t mean to burden him or do anything of that sort.

he’s quick to silence you, making sure you know that you can cry in front of him. he doesn’t want you to reserve your emotions, and certainly doesn’t want you to suffer in silence.

but the issue is that he’s bad at verbalizing those feelings. he doesn’t want you to feel alone, but he doesn’t know how to form that statement into words. no matter how many times he’ll rehearse it in his head, no matter how many times he’ll get lynettes (and sometimes lyneys, depending on how bad the situation is) help on how to communicate with you, and make sure you know that you have his support constantly.

“whats wrong, if it’s not too much to ask?” he says slowly, picking his words carefully. he’s never really had to experience a breakdown from you, but there's always a first for everything.

you tell him, and he feels sympathy. he wishes he could make everything in that moment go away, if thats what’ll make you feel content for even just a few moments. he wishes he could take on your burdens too, and you know he feels that way. but you won't let him, because he has too much going on himself. so, all he can do for now is sit in silence and hold you. it’ll do for now, he thinks.

-> layla

layla was fast asleep on your lap when all of the sudden, tears just started running down your cheeks. you didn’t know why, they just started. you remembered something you didn’t want to think about, something rather harsh. layla woke up when she felt those exact tears plop onto her face, only to be met with the sight of your swollen eyes.

“whats wrong??” she says in a worried, dreary tone. you could tell she was beyond exhausted, slowly bringing a hand to your cheek while yawning. “you don’t have to say… just wondering…”

if you say, she’ll listen as best as she can. you and her both know that she’s tired a lot, so her ability to focus on one thing without drifting into peace for a few hours is near nonexistent. but to you, she changes that, and makes sure to be as alert as she possibly could be. she’ll try to help you get through it with the best of her ability, understanding that the things going on in your mind right now are not good and you just need your lover to be there for you, especially at such a vulnerable time.

so, be there she is. she’ll cuddle you if you want her to. you know she might fall asleep, but at least she’s trying to make an effort to help you feel better.

340 notes · View notes

weebsinstash · 9 months ago

Text

Not me sitting here thinking of the most DISGUSTINGLY SELF INDULGENT shit with platonic yandere dad Lucifer that is actually making my heart hurt 😩❤️

There was a TV series called Lucifer where that devil protagonist could utilize his position as ruler of Hell, the dominion of souls who have sinned, to charm people amd look inside of them to reveal their hidden desires or true evils. He could have them spouting their real feelings or blurting out something they were ashamed of or trying to hide, and he could always sort of generally tell what people were thinking or feeling by looking at them

I can't help but think of Hazbin Lucifer having similar powers. You're a human soul down in his dominion of Hell and he can sense the quivering amd shaking of your spirit when you're lying or concealing something from him. You're sitting around the Hotel depressed and in your mind you think "God I wish I could kill myself a second time" and he's quaking out a shocked WHAT from the other end of the room and it's like, Charlie dude ummmm can your dad READ MINDS? And she's all casual, "oh yeah sure haha there's never hiding anything from him :)" and you're sitting there *duck quack sound effect* as Lucifer has basically now made you priority number 2 (priority 1 is Charlie and you're ALSO a priority for her so... you know...)

Lucifer who finds you depressed and crying and trying to bury all your sorrows in liquor and you're getting so drunk you can barely talk and it breaks his heart as a father, that you can't even walk, can barely string together a sentence, just going from inebriated joy to deep, deep sorrow while still trying to be nice to your friend's dad. He's helping scoop you off the floor as you sob your father never loved you and you deserved to die, that you should've killed yourself a long time ago, and he's asking how old you are, or, how old your soul is now, and when you answer he just looks so pained, "but you're still just a baby" and hugs you tightly as he's basically adopting you right that second

Lucifer who finds you crying/flinching in your sleep like you're having a nightmare and he goes into your head and looks at your memories and sees you're having nightmares of being struck as a child. the devil feeling this deep well of disgust gurgling inside of him as he witnesses for himself how many times you were cruelly abused just for acting like a normal kid, how many times your little heart was broken, how many times your little baby hands reached out for help from someone else only to be pushed away, and suddenly, you start having these weird dreams about being a child again. Charlie catches her dad sitting on your bed at your side while you sleep, combing his fingers through your hair as he all but mind-melds with you and she asks what he's doing. the second he tells her what he's seen and how it makes him feel and what he wants to do, she approves and wants to help

Suddenly you start having all these little dreams of being a kid again, but, they aren't scary dreams anymore... no one is bullying you here... in these dreams, you can run around and play and... and... your big sister Charlie is there. Your big sister Charlie and your dad Lucifer. You're small and vulnerable again and Lucifer will call the two of you his little ducklings as he takes your hands and tells you you've all got to hurry or you won't get good seats, and you feel an actual sense of excitement in your heart as he tells you he's taking you guys to the circus

The dream keeps going and going and it's so wonderful and FUN that at some point Charlie and Lucifer watch your little self break down crying, hugging the demonic pair as tight as you can because you know you're going to wake up and... reality is different. No one... LOVES YOU like you can feel here, and you're just bawling. This dream actually kind of makes you HORRIBLY DEPRESSED because you wake up and realize you don't actually have what you were experiencing, that it's just some weird fantasy your brain is cooking up that makes ot awkward to look at your friend and her dad

Meanwhile in the hotel Alastor is poking his head into your room to see you conked out while both Morningstars sit/lay on each side of you with their eyes closed holding your hands or some shit to form the connection and, Lucifer cracks an eye open to make direct contact with Alastor like "interrupt our family moment or say something to them about this, I fucking dare you" and for some reason, Alastor has a sinking suspicion he shouldn't push this, just this one time, or it might end badly for him...

You're waking up accidentally almost calling Lucifer Dad when you see him because you spend almost every night getting to go to amusement parks and play carnival games and eat ice cream and cotton candy with memories of a sister and father you know you don't actually have, but, wait what? Charlie and Lucifer are actually genuinely pushing to spend more time with you? What a lovely coincidence! You wake up really depressed because your 'family' isn't with you and suddenly Charlie peeks into your room and says Lucifer made pancakes for everyone and you're invited to come and you're practically racing out of bed because, oh boy a chance to recreate Dad's pancakes in real life? And that's his exact intention. He doesn't even fucking care that a certain Louisiana gentlemen is shitting on his cooking; if cooking for the whole hotel gave him an excuse to have a "family breakfast" with you and Charlie in the real world for once, he would do it

You're sitting at the table next to Charlie, awaiting your pancakes that you know were made with love and care, and when Lucifer sets down your plate in front of you, affectionately calling you Ducky just like he's done in all your dreams, you're ready to bawl your eyes out??? You're just sitting there tearing up eating homemade pancakes while Charlie is like about to start sobbing because "family is just so beautiful, waaaaaah" and pulls you and her father into a hug

'Family' huh.... it sounds nice... you wouldn't mind having people actually caring about you and looking out for you... too bad you're underestimating how attached and protective of you they already are...

#yandere x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hellaverse #hh #sinprompts

153 notes · View notes

m1ckeyb3rry · 8 months ago

Text

── THE GLASS PRINCESS // NINE

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: The Blue Spirit inadvertently takes you to see the consequences of the decisions your brother has made during his reign as the Earth King.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.8k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: kind of gross description of an injury later on in the chapter?? be warned ig. also idk how compliant some parts of this are with canon but wtvr this is how it is in the glass princess universe

“Kuei!” you wailed, clutching your knee and sobbing, ducking away from the servant that tried to pull you to your feet. “Kuei!”

Though he was barely more than a child himself, he still came running when you called for him. Though he was the king of the Earth Kingdom, though he had many times more important duties to attend to, he always came running. Shoving the servant out of the way with a murmured apology, he crouched and swept you into his arms.

“Y/N, Y/N, don’t cry. What happened? Why do you weep?” he said, clutching your small body to his chest, holding your face against his narrow shoulders. You muffled your tears in the silken fabric of his robes, though the pain you were feeling rapidly faded in the protective warmth of your brother’s embrace.

“She fell, your royal majesty,” the servant said. “The stone floors scraped her knee, and she has been bawling since it happened. She won’t allow me to clean it, so it’s been left unattended. She keeps saying that she’ll only allow you to see to it.”

“Sister, you must let the servants help you,” Kuei admonished you, picking you up and setting you down on the ground before him. “That’s the entire reason they’re in the palace at all.”

You peered up at Kuei, blinking your wet, swollen eyes at him pitifully. He tried to remain stern, but the effect was lost on you, as he softened within the instant, using the ends of his flowing sleeves to wipe your face from the tears rapidly drying on your skin. Then, before anyone could protest, he tore the hem of his robe off.

“Your royal majesty!” the servant, inhaling sharply. “That robe was sent to your great-great-grandfather by the Fire Nation for his coronation! It is a priceless heirloom!”

“What is the past when compared to the present? What is an heirloom when compared with my sister?” Kuei said rhetorically, using the cloth to dab at the shallow wound on your knee and then tying it around the joint before helping you stand. “There you go. Does it still hurt quite as terribly?”

“Not as much,” you said. He rubbed your round cheek with the back of his hand.

“Good,” he said. “Servant, tell Long Feng I must meet with him immediately. There are some changes I wish to make.”

After that day, every hallway and every room in the Earth Palace had its stone floors covered in a plush, woven carpet.

“What do you want, Kuei?” you said, striding into his room and sitting primly across from him, folding your hands in your lap and crossing your legs at the ankles. Kuei had somehow squeezed both himself and his bear into a single armchair, but it was clearly an uncomfortable fit for the both of them. You supposed it did not matter to you, though, so you did not react beyond arching a single brow at the questionable arrangement of their two bodies and shaking your head in disapproval.

“Is it a crime for a brother to want to see his sister every once in a while?” Kuei said.

“You never call me just to see me,” you said. “Normally, it’s when you have bad news or when you want something from me. Let us skip over the mindless chatter this time and get to the point. Which is the reason you demanded my presence in your chambers?”

“It’s neither,” he said, looking at the ground. “Or, in some sense, it is both.”

“Kuei…” you said, and then you sighed. “Just tell me. You only need to do that much, and I won’t be angry, but you must speak the truth, and say it fully.”

“Bosco,” he said, which prompted a sleepy, mumbling groan from the bear. It was the kind of noise that might’ve been frightening if you were unused to it, but to you, it was high, reedy, thin — nothing like even the mere rise and fall of Quynh’s breath. “He is lonely.”

“If you’re going to ask me to babysit your bear, then I’ll have to tell you to save your breath,” you said. “That is one thing I will refuse you. There are people you pay to do exactly that kind of thing, so why would you foist the duty upon me?”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” he said. “It’s not something difficult. Well, it’s not taxing in that it won’t take very much time nor effort, but you might wish you didn’t have to do it, so it could be considered an unfair demand.”

“I see,” you said warily, knowing that anything more might be seen as agreement to an unknown decision.

“I want to send out an expedition!” he said.

“An expedition? Of what sort?” you said.

“To find a mate for Bosco, or, if not a mate, then a member of his own species who can be his friend. Imagine if you were stuck in a palace and only had beings entirely unlike you as company!” he said.

“It’s funny, actually, because I don’t really have to imagine…” you said under your breath.

“What?” Kuei said. You shook your head.

“Nothing,” you said.

“Anyways, that’s Bosco’s reality! Don’t you pity him? He must be so isolated and depressed,” he said.

If you did not know him so well, you would’ve thought he was doing it on purpose, but Kuei was so guileless that the only explanation was obliviousness to the extent that it could breed such irony.

“I’m sure it’s like that,” you said.

“That’s why I want to try and find another bear,” he said.

“I thought he was the only one to exist in the world?” you reminded him. Kuei had the nerve to roll his eyes at you.

“Do you think he just sprang from the ground like a tree? He must’ve had parents, which implies a larger population exists somewhere, even if it is a place we have not yet thought to look. Besides, the stories of Quynh must be rooted in some fact, so there is further proof that others exist,” he said.

“How many times must I tell you? The story of Quynh is not a story but the truth!” you said.

“You can say it as many times as you please,” Kuei said. “I know you particularly enjoy the sound of your voice, and I would do anything for you, you know, which includes allowing you to preach at me so that you may listen to yourself speak. If that comes in the form of sermons on Quynh and her nature, then I suppose it is just the kind of sacrifice that an elder brother must make.”

“You know what?” you said. “You’re the one who supposedly needs my help, so you ought not to be insulting me! What if I say no now?”

“You don’t even know what I’m asking you yet!” he said.

“Perhaps not, but please note that your chances of being rejected have increased exponentially,” you said. Kuei scoffed.

“I need someone else to sign the promissory note,” he said. “The Minister of the Treasury refuses to lend to me anymore.”

“Why would you need to take out a loan for something like that?” you said. “We have more than enough money in our family vaults to fund an expedition of that nature, even if I think it’s something of a waste of money.”

“We’re not allowed to access them,” Kuei said. This was news to you; after all, you had never really had much cause to inspect the family vaults, so you had not even known that you were denied the wealth of your ancestors. “Long Feng says we aren’t responsible enough to handle that much money yet.”

“So you’ve been funding your errands and expeditions with promissory notes?” you said.

“Yes,” Kuei said.

“Have you paid any back?” you said. He shook his head.

“No, we can’t visit the treasury, remember?” he said. “What money would I pay them back with?”

You fought back the urge to scream at him, forcing yourself to take deep breaths in the pursuit of calming down.

“Well, your salary, for one,” you said. “Even I’m paid some amount, just for being the princess, and you’re the king, so you should be getting more.”

“It’s nowhere near enough,” he said.

“Kuei,” you said through gritted teeth. “How much debt is the crown in?”

“Um…” he looked at Bosco nervously, like he was searching for a protector. The bear did not so much as blink at him; you wondered how your brother felt, knowing that the creature he had spent so much money on had such a lackadaisical reaction to his distress. “Perhaps it’s better if you don’t know, Y/N.”

“Yet you want me to sign a promissory note on your behalf?” you said. “Without even knowing how much debt our family is in, you want me to put us into more?”

“Long Feng said it’s alright,” Kuei said. “In fact, he was the one who suggested I ask you.”

“Does he have a plan for paying it back?” you said. Long Feng was Kuei’s most trusted advisor, and though you chafed against the tight leash he kept on you, you had to admit that he had done what he could to ensure the kingdom’s safety, even through Kuei’s ineptitude.

“Actually, he does,” Kuei said. “We’re going to implement a tourism tax. In recent years, the number of visitors to Ba Sing Se has skyrocketed; by levying a tax on those individuals as they enter the city, we’ll easily generate enough revenue to get rid of our debt entirely!”

It was a sound idea, but you were still, for some reason, uneasy about it. You couldn’t place your finger on why, but there was something holding you back from just agreeing as you normally would��ve.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t. Not yet,” you said. “How about we strike a deal? Once the existing debt has been paid off, I will agree to sign a new promissory note.”

“But Y/N!” he whined.

“It’s the best you’ll get out of me,” you said. “Either agree to abide by those rules or get someone else to take on the responsibility.”

Stubbornness was a family trait; you both possessed it in equal measure, which was why he knew that you were not fibbing. He jutted his chin out in defiance, but it was in the way of an obstinate child forced to acquiesce.

“Very well,” he said. “The debt will be gone within days! I will tell Long Feng to raise the tax. If people can afford to travel here, then they certainly have the coins to spare.”

“If that’s what you think is best,” you said. “As for me, I’ll be off.”

“Back to your room already?” Kuei said. “What do you even do in there nowadays?”

“The same as usual,” you said. “Read. Study. I must be as well-educated as possible, in all aspects, so I learn of history, and etiquette, and politics, and the fine arts, and other such subjects.”

“Are you off to read or to study, then?” he said.

“I’m reading,” you said. “Seven Soldiers of Agni, to be precise.”

“Didn’t you read that years ago?” Kuei said. “I remember you talking about it back then.”

“Yes, but I just — um, I just happened to see it on my bookshelf, which made me recall how much I adored it, so I’ve been rereading it,” you said. You could hardly tell Kuei the real reason why you were rereading Seven Soldiers of Agni: because Lee had told you to.

Seven Soldiers of Agni was, in your opinion, a far better story than The Mask of the Blue Spirit. You had to give Lee this much; besides his opinions on the ending of The Mask of the Blue Spirit, he had good taste in literature. You had been enjoying immersing yourself in the world of the seven Fire Nation ex-elites, who had each been sent out on personal quests by their Fire Lord in wake of an embarrassing defeat in battle, so that they could regain their honors and their statuses as Soldiers of Agni.

The passageway Quynh opened for you seemed short this time. Or maybe it was that you were rushing — meeting Kuei had taken longer than you had hoped it would, and if you were not quick enough, you’d miss the lighting of the lanterns that you had promised the Blue Spirit you’d be present to see.

Luckily, the spirit realm was on your side today. The door opened directly in front of the fountain, and you stumbled out of it in relief, nearly tripping over the uneven cobblestones of the plaza as you did so. Pressing your cool hands to your cheeks, which were warmed from the exertion of running through the passageway, you took a deep breath to settle your racing heart.

Scanning the vicinity, you saw nothing but the men lighting the lanterns with their stick-like torches. You should not have been disappointed by this, but you could not help yourself. There was no reason to imagine he’d even understood your cryptic words, but you had really been hoping he would’ve.

You sat on a nearby bench, watching as one by one, each lantern was lit. It was so unlike the eerie shine of Quynh’s Den; the crystals had a greenness to their glow, a cool toned lighting that washed everything in a ghostly tint. On the other hand, these lanterns were warm. The fires within them were gold and yellow and orange, benevolent in their hue, dancing cheerfully in the slight breeze of the evening. It made you wonder if the entire Fire Nation was composed entirely of people like this, people who were as bright and gentle as the element they lay claim to.

You didn’t know where he came from, but it remained that one moment, you were admiring the lanterns, and the next, you were turning to see the Blue Spirit sitting stiffly at your side, gloved hands clasped together, back straight as a pillar. And though you should’ve been startled, you could not help the smile from creeping over your face.

“Hello, Blue Spirit,” you said. “I thought you wouldn’t come. I’m sure you have more important things to do with your time.”

He shrugged.

“Well, if you’re anything like the man from the story, you’d be off saving the unfortunate,” you said. “Though I don’t know how many unfortunate there are in Ba Sing Se.”

He shook his head, though you weren’t sure which part, exactly, he was denying. But it mattered little; the end result was that he was there, sitting beside you, watching the reflections of the lanterns on the rippling water.

For a moment, you were both silent, and then slowly, carefully, as if you were entreating a wounded animal, you placed your hand atop his. His fingers twitched, but he did not pull away, only tilting his head to look at you quizzically. You did not move to interlock your fingers with his, simply letting your palm rest against the back of his hand like a whisper.

“Thank you,” you said, swallowing back your shyness in favor of honesty. “Thank you for coming. I don’t know who you are…but you really are someone admirable. I’m sure you have many better things to be doing, but yet you are here, with me. With a girl who does not even know what it means to have a person as a companion. I’m sure…I’m sure that I’m not the most entertaining person you could be spending your time with, yet you are spending it with me regardless.”

He raised his other hand and flicked you on the forehead. You scowled at him, but it was a weak expression of anger, barely able to disguise the rush of embarrassed pleasure you felt at the scolding form of acceptance.

“Do you truly mean that?” you said. It was definitely naive of you to assign such significance to a person you were only meeting for the third time now, a person who wore a mask and who never spoke, but you could not stop yourself from doing it. You could not stop yourself from wanting to know his answer.

A short, sharp nod. Your eyes widened, and you looked away, biting your lip, your shoulders drawing up to your ears as a way to shield yourself. You weren’t sure how to answer these things, how you were meant to react to them. The territory you were venturing into was entirely foreign, and you wanted to shy away as much as you went to leap into it headfirst.

Abruptly, without warning, the Blue Spirit’s fingers were wrapping around your wrist and he was yanking you towards him. You yelped in surprise at the firmness of his grip, but he did not let you protest, using his arm to shield your head as a boulder came flying through the air, whistling past where you had just been sitting.

“No,” you whispered as you realized you had been found once again. It only took a cursory glance for you to realize that the Blue Spirit had foregone his swords, too, which meant that you were in more than a bit of trouble. “I didn’t think they would be so daring as to attack me in the middle of — oh!”

The Blue Spirit pulled you after him at such a speed that you were breathless as you tried to keep up. Fisting the fabric of your skirt in one hand, you left the other limp in the air, its wrist still held fast by the Blue Spirit, who used it to guide you along behind him.

He knew the alleyways so well that he did not even hesitate as he charged along them, knowing intuitively where to step, where to leap slightly so that his feet did not catch, and though you did not possess this kind of knowledge, his own experience applied to you. You did not think about where you were going nor what you were doing; instead, you just followed after the Blue Spirit, trusting him blindly, without even the time to question if it was the right choice or not.

You were being chased. You could hear him behind you, the bricks of the road rising up to assault you as you went, and it was only thanks to the Blue Spirit’s dexterity that you were able to avoid the attacks. It was the same person as the night you had met the Blue Spirit, you were certain of it, which meant that he knew who you were, that this was even more targeted than you had previously understood.

“I don’t understand it!” you panted out as you barreled into yet another narrow alleyway. “I don’t understand why he’s out for my blood like this! How can I have enemies when I haven’t even left the palace before?”

The Blue Spirit did not respond, rounding a corner and then pausing before using a flower pot to boost himself and, consequently, you, onto the roof of a nearby shop. Hooking his hands under your arms to drag you up with him, he held a finger to his lips.

Your head spun as you realized how high you were, how precarious your perch was. The two of you were balancing on the peak of the roof, which was hardly wide enough for your two feet to remain side-by-side. You wobbled with uncertainty, but the Blue Spirit had not yet let go of you, and at the unsure movement, he only held on tighter.

“Where are they?” the voice of the man trying to kill you said as he rounded the same corner you had just crossed. “Princess Y/N and that defender of hers!”

You couldn’t tell who he was talking to, as by all accounts he seemed to be alone. Still, he did not continue running, skidding to a stop and inspecting the area. It was only a matter of time before he’d reach the natural conclusion and look up, but before that could happen, the Blue Spirit was once again taking a hold of your wrist and then running along the ridge, pulling you along with him, though in your right mind you’d never do anything so dangerous.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you said as you both reached the end of the roof and it became evident what he was implying you had to do next. “Blue Spirit, did you hear me? I’m not the kind of person that does these things!”

The force of his eye roll could be felt even through his mask. To be sure, it was rather a silly concern — it was either jumping or giving yourself up to a certain death at the hands of your assailants. Still, though, you thought that you rather preferred your chances with the assassins. There was a chance they’d be merciful when killing you, and certainly they’d be more merciful than the ground by far.

But the Blue Spirit did not give you the chance to think about it. Actually, he did not give you a chance to do anything, jumping first, his momentum hauling you along with him. He had the good sense to catch you and stabilize you via his hands on your shoulders, allowing you a precious moment to breathe before you were off again, flitting from rooftop to rooftop in the same manner, as if you two were simply small birds playing in the night.

Only once you had been going for an impossibly long time did he slow his relentless pace and then finally cease it altogether. Helping you down to the ground, he allowed you to lean on him as you gasped for air.

“You are very reckless,” you said. “But that recklessness has saved my life, so I shall not reprimand you for it. Anyways, I suppose I owe you an explanation, considering this is the second time you’ve had to rescue me from that man.”

The Blue Spirit nodded. You took another second to calm your mind and your nerves, sighing when your heart continued its frantic beating and your chest remained tight. But at least you could speak normally now, so, gathering your wits about you, you straightened in order to stand of your own volition instead of his generosity.

“My father was killed by an Earthbending assassin shortly before I was born, as I’m sure you know — it’s not exactly some great secret, considering it happened in the city and not the palace. Although I have no reason to believe it, I cannot help but think that these recent attempts on my own life are somehow related to that incident,” you said.

You weren’t sure if that illuminated anything, but the Blue Spirit did not seem confused. Still, you felt like you had to explain further, perhaps defend your family’s name — or, at least, your own.

“I’m not sure what the reasoning is,” you said. “Nor how he and his accomplices know the truth of my identity. What good would come about from killing me? But they seem set upon it. Perhaps it is because I am the only one of my family who they have a chance at reaching. Kuei is ever safe in the palace, so it could be that they are simply capitalizing on an opportunity. It doesn’t answer the question of how they know who I am, though…”

You trailed off, lost in thought, and it was only then that you became aware of an awful, droning din that had been in the background while you were talking but now grew forefront in the absence of conversation. Tapping the Blue Spirit on the shoulder, you made a general motion in the direction of the noise.

“Wherever have we ended up, anyways? Do you know what that sound is?” you said.

Another nod of affirmation. You waited for him to, in his own way, elaborate, but he did not move. It was as if he was embarrassed or ashamed or frightened — something along those lines.

“You do not wish for me to know what it is?” you said.

He shook his head. You furrowed your brow.

“You think I will not like what I find? But it is my own city. Should I not, then, know? Whether good or bad, I ought to be aware of these things,” you said.

Glancing around cagily for a minute, he finally, reluctantly extended his hand to you. There were no words required for you to understand what he meant: it was your decision. Whatever you saw, it was your choice to see it.

You did not run this time. You slunk around, snakes instead of birds, ghosts through the city that were not being pursued but were instead the ones in pursuit, seeking something out that, according to the Blue Spirit, was better off not sought in the first place.

It was an archway. Members of the Royal Army stood in front of it, their faces and postures unyielding, their ranks only breaking to allow people in occasionally before immediately reforming into an impenetrable wall. They were silent, though; the source of the clamor was the mass of people on the other side of them.

“What is going on here?” you said, though this was a problem that was beyond the scale of the Blue Spirit’s hand gestures. “You there. What is the situation? Why are these people in such distress?”

“You don’t know?” said the man you had addressed. He was standing behind a stone counter, sorting change into neat piles, but at your voice, he glanced up at you. “Well, it’s a new policy, so it’s no surprise.”

“What new policy?” you said.

“That tourism tax,” the man said, voice dripping with acidic sarcasm. “Most of these tourists can’t afford to pay it, you know. Damn Earth King. Who cares about that bear of his when his own subjects are like this? Though you didn’t hear that from me, missy.”

Long Feng had always told you that tourists were wealthy people who came to Ba Sing Se for fashion. You had imagined them to be dripping in lush fabrics and glimmering jewels, arriving in carriages drawn by only the finest of steeds or palanquins carried by only the strongest of men. When Kuei had told you that there was another tourism tax to be implemented, you had not rallied against it, for in your mind, tourists were people who could drop thirty gold coins and not feel a difference in the weight of their purses.

That is to say, when you imagined tourists, you, in a way, imagined yourself. Yourself, if only you were free from the palace. Yourself, if you could visit Ba Sing Se with your own identity instead of in the guise of a commoner, sneaking through Quynh’s doors. But these people did not resemble that image at all. These people were nothing like you.

Their clothes were worn and old, their shoes ragged — if they were so fortunate as to have shoes at all. Most were barefoot, their heels cracked and bleeding, their nails jagged and peeling. Dust and sweat caked on their faces and sank into the lines of their weathered expressions, and there was a wild desperation to the way they clawed at one another, cupped their hands together, begged and begged to be allowed entrance to the great city.

One man was limping; the flesh of his right leg was the bubbling pink and yellow of a burn wound, though a purplish-black infection stained the edges. A young girl was trying in vain to help him walk, but the others paid him no mind as they surged forward, pleading with the soldiers, who remained steadfast in their refusal.

“Please!” a woman shouted, baby in her arms. “Take my child! For — for any amount of money, take my child!”

“Is she selling her baby?” you said in horror, clenching the Blue Spirit’s hand so hard that, were he not wearing gloves, he’d surely be scarred with the imprint of your nails. The man behind the counter shook his head.

“She’s offering to pay someone to take him with them, if they have enough to pay the tax to enter the city,” he said. “Any amount of money. She’ll sell herself, if that’s what it takes, just as long as her child makes it into Ba Sing Se.”

“Why won’t they let them in?” you said. “That man, he will lose his leg if he does not get medical attention immediately! And the child…it needs food. Malnutrition will stunt its growth, if it can even survive those conditions.”

“Ask his royal majesty,” the man scoffed. “He’s gone and raised the entrance fee again, apparently so that he can fund more expeditions to find a friend for that beast of his. No one can afford it, at least not the people at this gate. It’s not a problem at the monorail station or the other gates, where the wealthier refugees arrive, but at places like this, it’s causing issues.”

“Refugees?” you said. “But what cause do they have to seek refuge?”

The man paled, looking around nervously and then shaking his head.

“Of course, nothing,” he said. “They’re just tourists.”

“But you said—” you began, though you were cut off by the man wagging his finger at you.

“I don’t want to end up in a bad way with the Dai Li, do you hear me? I didn’t say anything! If you’re not here to gawk at their troubles, then what business do you have here?” he said.

“I — I suppose that I don’t have any,” you said.

“Then best be off before something happens,” he said. “They look about ready to revolt, and if it comes to that, then you’re right in the line of fire — I mean, boulders! Boulders. Nothing to do with fire.”

Based on the set of the Blue Spirit’s shoulders, he wanted to take the man’s recommendation. This wasn’t any kind of place for someone like you, after all, someone so sheltered and looked after. How could you, who had never wanted for anything, empathize with these people who had lost everything? How could you, who lived in a palace, understand the pain of those who had no homes at all? It was futile. You were Princess Y/N. You were — you were —

“You’re just gonna stand there?” the man said. “Make up your mind, and hurry up with it! Things are getting messy already, and you’re just dithering about! Seriously, you’re about as useful as that glass princess.”

“Glass princess?” you said. The man snorted, and that was when the Blue Spirit tugged on your hand in earnest, but you planted your feet against him. This was something you wanted to know.

“Have you been living in a cave your entire life?” he said. “Yes, the Glass Princess. The Earth King’s dearly beloved sister, who is too delicate for this world. Not a soul alive has seen her. It’s like she’s made of glass or something — hence, you know, why everyone calls her that. Really, it’s hard to tell which one is more contemptible between the two. One sibling who makes his subjects’ lives harder and the other who sits by and watches it happen. Just as long as she is comfortable. Just as long as her own life is not impacted. She’d watch everyone suffer, I’d wager, just as long as she could keep wearing her pretty dresses and fancy jewels.”

“Is that what they think of — of her?” you said. The man shoved his fist in his mouth and shook his head rapidly, eyes widening with panic.

“Of course not,” he said. “All hail the royal family! Please, beautiful, generous, kind-hearted miss, do not report me for treason. Please, I have children!”

You paid no attention to his fervent declarations of loyalty, gazing out at the crowd. These people hated you. It was not your differences which formed the chasm between you and them; it was that they genuinely despised you. You were the princess made of glass, the one who cared not for her subjects, the one who knew nothing about their plight and had no desire to learn, either. That was what they thought of you. That was who you were to them.

The man’s leg gave out, the girl falling to her knees and shielding him with her body from the trampling feet of the crowd. The woman’s cries grew louder, the baby’s body rattling periodically with coughs, but still no one took it from her arms, because no one could afford it. No one could gain entrance to Ba Sing Se, let alone with a child in tow, so why would they take her up on the offer?

“Guards!” you shouted, wrenching free from the Blue Spirit and storming towards the line of men. “I demand you let these people in at once!”

“Who are you to give such a command?” one of the guards said. He wore a captain’s uniform, but he was still young, fresh-faced. He must’ve been newly promoted. It explained why he was so set on following protocol, at any rate.

“It doesn’t matter who I am,” you said, and then you took out the money you had thought you would give to the Blue Spirit last night. “This will be enough. This will be enough to let anyone through this gate. Until they stop coming, they will be allowed in, at my expense. You shan’t charge them even a copper!”

The captain made to argue, but then he opened the bag and his jaw dropped. You glared at him with your hands on your hips as he slowly closed it and bowed at you.

“As you say, lady,” he said. “Let them in!”

The guards parted, and the crowd rushed in, like they did not believe the good fortune would last and they had to capitalize on it while they could. It was only the quick reaction of the Blue Spirit pulling you to safety that you were not bowled over, and you patted him on the arm in thanks.

“We should go,” you said. “What I’ve just done is bound to raise suspicion. Very few people have access to the kind of money I’ve just thrown at them, and there will be investigations soon, I have no doubt. It will be better if we are not caught at the scene by those who have questions they need answered. Not if I ever want to return to the city again.”

The two of you vanished just in time. When the Dai Li agents arrived to question the captain you had paid, he could only point to the darkness and say that the benefactor had disappeared, that the girl and her blue-masked companion must’ve been nothing more than a pair of spirits, perhaps sent by the long-absent Quynh for the good of her former kingdom.

taglist (comment/send an ask/dm to be added): @rinisfruity14 @c4ttheart @blacky-rose @shizko @marsbars09 @happyplaidpersonfestival @catborglar @camilleverreault @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog

#zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #zuko #avatar the last airbender #atla #reader insert #canon au #the glass princess #m1ckeyb3rry writes

134 notes · View notes

winchestersisterimaginessss · 3 months ago

Text

Request: i love your writing sm!! <3 :) i'm not sure if you're taking requests, but would you ever make a part 2 to the imagine where sam's addicted to demon blood? i would love to see the fallout of his actions and what happens next. but overall thank you for sharing all your writing, you're an amazing writer <3

A/N: OMG HI!! Thank you so so much!!! Maybe this calls for a part 3?

Warnings: violence, language

Part 1

You woke up to your face pounding in pain. Your hand shot to your cheekbone and you whimpered. It was swollen and hurt to touch. You replayed the memories of Sam and immediately sat up. You looked around, noticing it was still pitch black out and the car Sam was about to wire was gone. Your heart was in your throat and you put your head in between your knees trying to calm yourself down. This was so much worse than you could have ever imagined. The look in Sam’s eyes completely terrified you. He didn’t want to be helped. He was actually so confident in what he was doing that he knocked you unconscious to do it. You felt sick to your stomach knowing you were losing your older brother. Hell, after what just happened you were pretty sure that you already did lose him. A tear slipped down your face, and then another, and then another. Before you knew it, you were bawling your eyes out. Everything was just too much. You wiped away your tears and hissed in pain as you swiped the tears away from your swollen cheek. You stood up, not wanting to tell your eldest brother about Sam, but knew you had to. You just wished he could rest for more than a few hours without having another problem to fix. He was trying his best to take care of the both of you and himself. He didn’t deserve to feel all of this weight on top of him. Now it was about to crumble. As you walked back inside to Bobby’s, you tried to catch your breath from the sobs that wracked your body. You calmed yourself down the best you could before pushing open the front door. You knew better than to wake up Dean, he was probably going to put a knife to your throat, but you had to. You turned on the lamp by the couch before going to Dean.

“Dean!” You whisper shouted, hoping that it would wake him. He was the lightest sleeper ever, but with everything that’s happened he had to be exhausted.

“Dean!” You said a little louder this time.

Still nothing. You sighed knowing you had to shake him awake.

As soon as your hands touched him to shake him, he ripped his gun out from under the pillow and pointed it at you. He had a tight grip on your wrist before you whimpered, “Dean it’s just me.” You said weakly. He put his gun down and let your arm go, looking at you.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” He asked huskily. His voice rough from his sleep as he sat up.

You didn’t know how to answer that question so you just stared at him blankly, trying to find the words.

“I- uh- he-“ You were a stuttering mess. You were trying to formulate a sentence and that’s when he noticed your busted cheek.

He jumped awake, now on high alert.

“How did you get that?!?” He asked, examining your face.

You burst out into tears, “Sam’s gone.”

“What!” Dean shouted standing up which caused Bobby to jump up.

“Sam’s gone! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I tried to stop him Dean, I did.” You cried as he put his hand on your shoulder for a split second to comfort you, taking in the first part of your sentence before darting to the panic room with Bobby. You trailed behind them to see the vacant room.

“How in the hell did he get out.” Dean panicked, looking around.

“Maybe he had help,” Bobby motioned to the floor.

“A bunch of busted up devil traps.” He explained while you turned around to walk out. You already knew who it had to be and it crushed you.

“Demons?” You heard Dean question.

“Ruby.” You said sadly as you slugged your way to the couch to sit down.

You brought your knees up to your chest and hugged yourself. You’ve been doing that a lot lately, but it was always something you did to comfort yourself. You weren’t sure if it was working like it used to though. You heard Dean and Bobby discussing Sam and Ruby.

“She’s the next thing to kill on my to do list.” Dean seethed.

“One thing,” Bobby said.

“What?” Dean asked.

“Sam don’t want to be found,” Bobby sighed,

“Which means he’s going to be impossible to find.”

You heart dropped knowing that you now had to find Sam. To be honest, he completely terrified you now. The look in his eyes scared you. They were ice cold and lacked empathy. He definitely didn’t want to be found. He knocked you the hell out to escape in the first place. Your brother has never hurt you like that and that’s when you knew the demon blood was turning him into a monster.

You were broken out of your thoughts by Dean squatting down in front of you. He placed his hand on your knee and you fought back even more tears. God, you were a complete wreck. You felt so weak just whining and crying, but you could not stop. This was too much for you to handle and it was you trying your best to be strong. You didn’t know how Dean pulled himself together the way he did because you? You were a blubbering mess. Everything was just starting to seem to be too much for you.

“Hey kiddo.” Dean said softly, trying to get a better look at your face.

“Can you tell me what happened?” He asked.

You squeezed your eyes shut trying to control your emotions before you spoke. You opened them and looked into Dean’s. His eyes were soft and he gave you an encouraging nod.

“I woke up feeling like something was wrong and I heard the floors creaking so I shut my eyes real fast to pretend like I was still sleeping,” you started.

“And then I felt a presence in the room so I peaked and saw that it was Sam.” You said, breaking eye contact with Dean before he made you make eye contact again.

“I thought I could stop him Dean, I did! But, when I got outside, I noticed how off he was.” You visibly shivered.

“He would do anything for that blood and I saw it in his eyes. I tried begging him to stay and told him that we could help him...” You paused not wanting to continue.

Dean gave your knee a little squeeze so you continued, “I told him I needed him,” you whimpered.

“But, he ripped the gun from my hands and slammed the end of it into my face.” Dean clenched his jaw, seeing you in pain caused by his brother.

“I woke up in the dirt with my face pounding and he was gone!” You cried.

Dean took you into his arms and rubbed your back, “alright shh, it’s okay, shhhh.” He tried comforting you as you trembled in his arms.

Bobby handed Dean an ice pack, already knowing that you had to get the swelling down on your face. This was different than Sam doing this to Dean. You were just a kid and that’s what made Dean livid. Though he tried hiding those emotions from you, he wasn’t sure how much longer he really could. He grabbed the ice pack from Bobby, mouthing a ‘thank you,’ before placing it on your face. You whimpered in pain as Dean held it to your face.

“I know kid, I know. I’m sorry,” he whispered. As he held you to his chest with the ice pack to your face, he thought about the monster Sam was becoming. He was going to find Ruby and kill her if it was the last thing he did.

——-

You were in the car with Dean trying to get a lead on Sam.

“There’s a town, Coldsprings, that’s lighting up with demon signs,” you heard Bobby say over the phone.

“That’s a good place to look,” Dean responded and said bye to Bobby. He hung up the phone and breathed in heavily.

“Dean,” you said gently.

“What?” He asked.

“Us finding sam?” You sighed, “It has to be about us getting him back, not pushing him away.” You said, hoping he understood.

“Right.” He said trying to come off strong, but his voice cracked.

“I know you’re mad Dean, I’m upset too. But I’m just saying we have to get through to him. We can’t- we can’t let him become-” You stuttered trailing off, not wanting to say it.

“A monster,” Dean finished your sentence, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

“Yeah.” You whispered, looking down at your lap.

——-

You were at some janky motel that Dean pretty much tracked Sam down to. We were down the hall hiding behind a wall when we saw Sam leave a room. We waited a few minutes before walking down to it. Dean slowly pushed the door open and Ruby was there packing her stuff. Dean signaled to you to wait at the door as he snuck up behind her. He swung at her with his knife, but she blocked it with her arm. He sliced it and pinned her against the wall, struggling to kill her. As soon as you went to step in to help, you were pushed across the floor. You looked up and saw Sam charging towards Dean.

“No! Let her go!” He yelled, fighting off Dean.

“Just take it easy.” Sam said with his hands up in the air defensively. You stood up at the same time as Dean.

“Wow that must’ve been some party that you two had going, considering how hard you tried to keep us from crashing it.” He said, shooting Sam a death glare.

“But we found you Sam.” You said coming to stand next to Dean.

You saw his expression slightly soften at seeing the bruise he left on your face before he spoke again.

“I’m glad you’re both here,” he said softly.

He glanced between you and Dean, “look let’s just talk about this okay?” He asked.

“As soon as she’s dead, we can talk all you want.” Dean said coldly.

Sam sighed, “Ruby, get out of here.”

Dean lunged, “no she’s not going anywhere!”

Sam held him back as Ruby ran out.

“Sammy,” you whimpered, “please! She’s poisoning you.” You cried out to him.

“It’s not what you think Y/N/N,” Sam said softly.

“Look at who she turned you into Sam! Look at what you did to your fucking sister!” He shouted, motioning told your face.

Your eyes immediately made contact with the floor, scared to face Sam.

“She’s terrified of you. Look at her!” Dean yelled, pointing at you.

You squeezed your eyes shut before opening them, “Dean.” You said before sighing and facing Sam.

“You’re lying to yourself Sam. We just want you to be okay.” You said upset, holding back tears.

His eyes softened, “okay just listen.”

“We’ve got a lead on a demon close to Lilith. Come with us and we’ll do this together.” He said, glancing between you and Dean.

“That sounds great Sammy it does. As long as it’s just us.” You said, hopeful.

“Demon bitch is a deal breaker. You kiss her goodbye and we can go right now.” Dean exclaimed.

“I can’t.” Sam sighed. “Dean I need her— to help me kill Lilith.” Dean brought his hand to his mouth and turned around shaking his head.

“I know you can’t wrap you’re head around it, but maybe one day… you’ll understand!” Sam finished.

A tear fell down your face, “Sam.” You said with your lip quivering. Your hope was diminishing by the second. This whole thing felt helpless. He was being manipulated and he didn’t see it. You knew he thought he was doing the right thing, but he was really turning into a monster.

“You don’t know what you’re doing Sam!” Dean shouted.

“Yes I do!” Sam said.

“Then that’s worse!” You shouted.

“Why?” Sam asked.

“Because it’s not something that you’re doing! It’s what you are!” You finally said it.

“It means…” You trailed off not knowing how to really say it. There was no way to take back what you were about to say.

“No.” Sam’s face dropped.

“Say it.” He seethed, looking at you. You would be lying if you said the look he gave you didn’t startle you because it did.

“It- uh-“ You stuttered, suddenly frightened by the energy he was giving off.

Dean stepped in front of you, “it means you’re a monster.” He said staring directly into Sam’s eyes.

Sam nodded with tears in his eyes before punching Dean in the face.

Dean flew backwards, taking you down with him. You let out a gasp when you felt yourself hit the floor and immediately scrambled to stand back up. Sam was huffing and puffing. The look in his eyes were completely evil. You stood back up, but Dean was 10 seconds ahead of you as he lunged at Sam. He punched him in the face and then they started fist fighting. It all happened so fast.

“Stop!” You screamed, terrified of the outcome.

Sam got ahold of Dean and was pounding into him. You rushed up to Sam trying to get him to stop.

“Sam please stop!” You screamed, grabbing his arm. He flung you off of him and you flew into the mirror. You felt pain spread everywhere through your body as the glass exploded. It pierced through your skin and you cried out, trying to keep yourself steady. Dean growled and went to swing on Sam again, but Sam threw him through the motel decor. He landed on the glass table and it shattered everywhere. Dean was laying on the floor in pain, gasping for air. Sam made his way over to him as you were trying to recover from your own blow.

“Sam! He’s down stop!” You cried, hoping he wasn’t going to beat him while he was already down. He didn’t look at you instead he lunged at Dean, choking him.

You couldn’t believe your eyes as you pushed yourself off the wall and charged at him.

“SAM, STOP! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!? STOP!” You screeched, trying to pull Sam off of Dean. You were absolutely terrified of him. He was choking the life out of Dean. You heard him gasping and saw the life leaving his eyes.

“SAM FUCKING STOP!” You screamed, pushing him with all of your might.

He flung you off of him and let go of the hold on Dean’s neck. You slammed your head on the floorboards as you heard Dean suck in a large breath. You sighed in relief, but picked yourself back up, afraid of what he was going to do next. Dean was coughing and Sam was panting.

“You don’t know me.” Sam said with rage.

“You never did and you never will.” He finished, glancing at you.

“Sam,” you cried as he walked towards the door to leave.

“You walk out that door, don’t you ever come back!” Dean sputtered. Sam looked between you and Dean with hate before walking out the door.

As soon as the door shut, Dean turned over groaning in pain. You immediately went to him, crawling over the glass that laid on the floor.

“It’s okay Dean! It’s okay!” You said, not knowing if you were trying to reassure him or yourself. You were both pretty bloody and beaten. You gripped his hand as your body trembled in fear and pain.

“Are you alright?” You cried, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah,” he breathed out continuing to groan on the floor and gasp for air. You burst into tears seeing him in pain, knowing he was far from alright. Knowing you were all far from alright.

“Okay, Dean everything’s going to be fine, everything’s going to be fine.” You cried, trying to comfort him, but you didn’t believe a single word you were telling him. The memories of Sam choking Dean were going to haunt you for the rest of your life.

Dean sat up and you scooted to sit next to him. Every movement causing you to cry out in pain.

“Hey kiddo, it’s okay. You alright?” He asked, worried about you. He knew that you were far from being mentally okay and with every cry of physical pain he heard, he knew that you were close to having a complete breakdown.

“That’s not Sam, right Dean?” You whimpered not giving him time to answer before asking again. “That’s not Sam?”

Still not allowing Dean to answer, you cried out, “that can’t be Sam! That’s not our brother!”

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off.

“Don’t tell me he’s gone! Don’t you dare tell me he’s gone. Please Dean that can’t be him.” You sobbed and tucked yourself into a ball.

“What the fuck is happening?” You cried out.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” you cried rocking back and forth, recalling all of the events of the last 48 hours.

I guess this was it, you officially snapped. You saw all that you could possibly witness in your short life and it was finally all too much. You always wondered what was going to send you over the edge completely and this was it. You couldn’t imagine feeling worse than this moment right now.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” Dean said scooting to you.

He put his hand on your shoulder, “breathe kid.” He said, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

You snapped your eyes to look at him, “what are we going to do?” You whimpered.

“We’re going to kill that demon bitch, save Sammy….” He said grunting as he hoisted himself up. He held out his hand for you to grab and he pulled you up.

“And save the world.” He finished, strongly.

82 notes · View notes