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licncourt · 2 years

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Is there a specific way to read the vampire chronicles or some books you should skip (I’ve just heard that some aren’t that good but like I’m up for anything)? And what books are focused on Louis and Lestat?

Okay I hope you weren't looking for a short answer to this because there isn't one 😭 Rather than just give my uncontextualized opinion, I'm going to try to explain what makes some (most) of VC so unbelievably terrible in so many people's eyes. There are going to be spoilers for pretty much all the books, but most of it is either incredibly stupid or information that you might want relating to content warnings. I'll list what applies to each book as I go.

I'm assuming you're here from my VC primer post, but if not, I'll link it right here! It gives a bit more detail on my short answer to your main question which is: if you value your sanity, only read the first three. Also a note to read the post I linked at the bottom of it about Anne Rice for context. It will help with understanding the tone this post takes re: the author.

To quickly answer your second question, I am sad to report that Interview with the Vampire is the only book focused on Loustat because after that Anne Rice decided that she hated Louis. Their relationship is on and off in the (very, VERY distant) background until they finally get together permanently towards the end of the series, but it's never the focal point again. She just kept us all on the hook by having one absolutely brain chemistry altering ship moment in a majority of the books (my compilation of those moments here).

Okay, on to specifics:

Interview with the Vampire: a literary classic with incredible character building. I'm assuming we can all agree that IWTV is fantastic and anyone who is reading this because of the show is probably already sold on it. If that's where you're coming from, you might be a bit disappointed by how unsympathetic Lestat can be, but that'll be remedied(ish) later. Lestat is the main character in the series going forward. Enjoy this Louis content because this is pretty much the end of it.

CW: keep in mind that the beginning of the book takes place on a plantation with all that entails; there are some occasional pedophilic and incestuous undertones, but nothing out of place with Gothic horror (it gets so much worse); domestic violence

The Vampire Lestat: this is widely considered to be excellent popular fiction rather than something as elevated as IWTV, but it's a 5-star read according to most fans. Lestat is such a vibrant, exciting character and so much more than the charismatic villain he was in IWTV (the AMC show incorporates a lot of his characterization from this book, as IWTV was originally a stand-alone novel without any real idea of what Lestat would become).

Aside from a (delightful) cameo at the end of the book, Louis is now in Anne Rice Jail and will not be allowed to do anything for the next nine books except be tortured once like a bug for no reason.

CW: a non-consensual turning that is directly analogous to sexual assault; descriptions of child abuse; Lestat, unfortunately, tongue kisses his mom

Queen of the Damned: this is the last book that most fans like. I personally consider it a step down from the first two, but I strongly prefer intimate, character driven stories and QotD is very plotty. It's a fun book, but some cracks start to show in AR's writing that will become a big problem later. Still, it's enjoyable and the ending is very satisfying for the story arc and for the characters. It also contains a fan favorite chapter that follows Daniel, the interviewer, and his insane romance with the vampire Armand.

If you want to be a happy person, turn back now.

CW: non-con blood drinking/vampiric SA; casual racism and pro-imperialism

***CATEGORY 5 EVENT: ANNE RICE FIRES HER EDITOR PERMANENTLY***

The Tale of the Body Thief: this is considered by most fans (obligatory not ALL) to be the worst book in the series simply for how the subject matter is handled. This is the beginning of AR transforming Lestat into something very existentially disturbing without even meaning to. The sympathetic, charming, evil-but-not-really theater kid Lestat is gone without a trace in a way that could be a very insightful look at the aftermath of trauma but is instead deeply insensitive and really upsetting.

Lestat from here on out becomes a hypermasculine caricature that can do no wrong according to the narrative and this has some pretty awful results. There are a few funny moments (like Lestat describing the sensation of peeing for two full pages) and a very cute arc where he adopts a dog, but he also commits two explicit rapes and emotionally abuses/threatens Louis on several occasions with the authorial justification that "men can't help themselves", abuse victims have it coming for setting boundaries, and people who have suffered abuse become abusers. This will be a recurring theme going forward.

Not related to Lestat, but also an Indian man is killed and has his body stolen and inhabited by a white British man in what would be a great metaphor for colonialism if the author thought that was a bad thing.

I am on the last chapter of a 140,000 word fic that I wrote just because I hate TotBT so much and wanted to create a world where it doesn't have to exist. It's one of the most popular VC fics on ao3, and that's not a testament to my writing ability, but rather to how much people hate this book.

CW: graphic SA; domestic violence; insensitivity to the point of racism; the author thinking these things are okay

Memnoch the Devil: not much to say about this. It's AR's ripoff of Dante's Inferno. Lestat meets the devil, goes to hell, drinks the blood of Jesus Christ, loses an eye, vacuum sucks period blood out of a woman's uterus and pad, and then falls into a five year semi-coma on a church floor. Somehow it's still boring. Best I can say is that the Lestat characterization is a bit less heinous than it is in the previous book.

CW: not much here unless you have an issue with period blood guzzling

The Vampire Armand: truly a notorious book in the series, beloved by some, hated by many. There's some good backstory for the character Armand (he first appears in IWTV, likely in season two of the show) and some fun historical fiction, however. Armand begins his story as a twelve year old human child who is rescued from sex slavery by an ancient vampire, Marius (he was namedropped in AMC ep 2).

Over the course of the book, he's physically, mentally, sexually abused by Marius, his teacher and father figure who is, like David, presented as a wise and moral authorit figure. In addition, Armand carries on a sexual relationship with an adult man as a minor. The sex is graphic (it's erotica) and it's really the peak of the pedophilia in VC. Keep in mind that this is coming from an author who publicly defended a child predator and thought that 14 year old kids could consent and should be allowed to have sex with adults.

Of all the later books, this one is the most widely enjoyed because Marius/Armand is a fairly popular ship.

CW: CSA/grooming; statutory rape; explicit adult/minor content; child abuse; cult abuse

Merrick: evil, evil book. AR's giant fuck you to Louis and anyone who likes his character. Lestat is in his devil coma for most of this book, so it's narrated by his newest fledgling and rape victim, David (who I and most others despise. This is the white guy who has an Indian body now). By this point, AR had openly admitted that she didn't like Louis, and she kind of spends this book tormenting and mocking him for no reason.

The titular Merrick (a mixed-race witch drowned in awful racial connotations) mind controls Louis with magic, then forces him to turn her (again, AR has confirmed that this is vampire rape) and be in a relationship. After this, she conjures a "ghost" that may or may not be Louis and Lestat’s dead daughter who tells Louis she always hated him and blamed him for her death. Completely overcome by grief, without Lestat (coma), and having been raped, Louis attempts suicide.

This event and all his mental health issues up to this point are framed by David as being stupid and weak, the sign of a lesser person who should just go and die because they deserve it. It is worth mentioning yet again that David is framed as being in the right and AR had expressed these opinions herself in the past (ie that mental illness is just weakness and you should be able to get over it).

Another fun thing is that Merrick was groomed by David as a child and he spends most of the book wanting her back and also admitting to other acts of pedophilia. So that's fun and great for a character who's supposed to be a voice of reason and moral center.

0/10, despise this book.

CW: sexual assault; grooming; attempted suicide

Blood & Gold: this is Marius' backstory. It is a completely pointless book because we've already heard it twice by this point in the series (and if you read the companion book Pandora, you'll hear it again). The whole thing reads like a Wikipedia page about ancient Rome. Read it if you want I guess.

CW: Marius

Blackwood Farm: this book had...potential? None of that was ever achieved, but I'll at least say that the concept could be worse. Lestat acquires his FIFTH brunette sadboi love interest of the series in this book, so that's kind of funny. Overall though, any positive qualities are overshadowed by weird prose, a really transphobic caricature, and the fact that the main character has shower sex with the ghost of his dead twin brother

CW: transphobia; sibling incest

Blood Canticle: Miss Rice decided to. Get creative with this book. It is a fandom joke. It is the worst prose in existence. It is a literary manic episode. It is truly indescribable. I'm just going to leave this excerpt from ch 1 here and let you imagine an entire book of this

Yes, chapter one is Anne Rice using Lestat as a proxy to berate her readers for not liking Memnoch the Devil. It's also important to me that you know Lestat calls himself "omnisensual" in this book, tries to become a saint, and tells a woman to put some clothes on because men can't control themselves. The word "chuckle" is also written out in the prose in italics like this is ff.net in 2010. The best thing that came of this book is the famous AR Amazon reviews rant (now a beloved VC fandom copypasta). Please read it. It's transcendent.

CW: psychologically devastating prose

Prince Lestat: this is AR's comeback book, published 12 years after Blood Canticle. It's an improvement, but it's still terrible and very, VERY dumb. Lestat has completed his transformation into a macho man male power fantasy for AR and we end with the establishment of a vampire monarchy with Lestat in charge because he slurped and then puked up the brains of the vampire who had the Special Vampire Essence.

Mostly this was an excuse for AR to kill off a bunch of her weird NPCs that she didn't know what to do with. The good news is we get a very cute, official Loustat love confession and for the first time since the first book in the entire series, we get a chapter that's Louis' POV!! It's like 7 pages long but it's the best we're ever going to get.

Other fun thing that happens: Lestat is hooked up to a hormone IV that allows him to fuck (book vampires can't) and the resident scientist vampire steals his cum and creates a petri dish clone of Lestat that is raised in secret for 18 years before being given to Lestat as his son. No, I'm not joking.

CW: uh, brain eating? Insanely unethical human experimentation?

Prince Lestat and the Realms of Atlantis: batshit crazy book. Truly bonkers. There are aliens, Atlantis is real, Lestat has a sentient brain parasite that controls all vampires and talks to him in his mind like the PS5, vampire brain surgery occurs, a choir of child vampires is there, an alien named Derek breastfeeds a disembodied hand until it grows into his clone named Derek Two, and so much more.

The one positive is that after decades of harassment, AR finally lets Louis be a main character again. By this point he has been completely stripped of his personality (I call it the Louis Lobotomy) and exists solely as Lestat's sexy lamp, but whatever. He's there and they're cute together. How they managed to become a healthy, functional couple overnight after two hundred years of drama is never explained.

Lestat makes out with his rapist and talks about how he was asking for it in a particularly nauseating scene, but otherwise it's pretty tame trigger-wise

CW: rape apologia/victim blaming

Blood Communion: we are finally being put out of our misery. The end of the series. This is such a boring book and Lestat’s characterization is completely nonsensical by now. Several main characters are presumed dead for a while and by this point you don't even care. Not even the other characters in the book seem to care. Its only use is to get that sweet sweet Loustat happy ending.

CW: temporary character death

Alright, that was a lot of shit-talking a book series I literally run a fandom blog and write hundreds of thousands of words of fic for, but the truth is, fans are here for the characters as they were originally created. The first three books are wonderful, the first two completely masterful and case studies in how character building should be done. There's a reason they've been read and analyzed and fawned over for forty years. What happened to the series is heartbreaking, but it doesn't negate the impact of how it started.

AR may have started spelling her own characters' names wrong and writing a baffling combination of disgusting hot takes and total absurdity, but she created something special in the beginning and I'll always love it and be grateful for what it once was.

I hope that was helpful!

#i'm sorry i didn't proofread this it's 4am #answered #vc #the vampire chronicles #iwtv #loustat #louis de pointe du lac #lestat de lioncourt #interview with the vampire

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owliellder · 8 months

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The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: I'm actually thinking I might be doing one chapter every other night, but I would also like to draw on my comically large art tablet at some point this week, so I might skip a day or two.

Cross posted onto AO3

Session 2: Color Matching

You partially regret just agreeing to "tomorrow", seeing as this man decided that he wanted to show up at 4am.

It was the original time set for yesterday's session, and you guess he felt bad for being late, but god damn he texted you an hour earlier telling you he'd be there by 4am. Dragging yourself out of the comfort of your bed was difficult, but in the end it was worth it to draw such a stunner.

You had to get there before Leon did, so there you were; half awake, dressed in a pair of fuzzy pants and a loose t-shirt, and a small cup of tea in your right hand while the other fumbled with the keys to your little work room.

That was the greatest part about your job as a professional painter. You didn't have a dress code.

Though most days you did try to look your best, some days it was just easier to be comfortable. Besides, it's not like tons of people come and see you everyday, it was usually just one person at a time.

It was 3:47am by the time you'd gotten to your workspace and settled, sitting on one of the many floor pillows in the living area you put together away from the actual painting setup. The tea was warm, it was keeping you sleepy, but you couldn't stop taking small sips. It was in your hands, there wasn't much you could do to stop yourself.

You told Leon to just come on in when he arrived, not wanting to walk all the way back down just to lead him back up. The stiffness from sleep was still in parts of your body, so you knew it would be difficult to get up, even when he did finally stride through that door. He dressed nicely today, just what you needed him to do.

Wanting to relish in the dim yet warm lighting of your various lamps for as long as possible, you beckoned the man to come over and sit with you, which confused him slightly. He thought you would be ready to get started once he showed up, but he wasn't one to argue so early in the morning. Instead, he shrugged and slowly sauntered over to you, taking a seat on a floor pillow across from yours.

"Good morning." Leon grumbled quietly, his voice barely hiding the fact that he wasn't quite awake either. That rumble in his chest made your stomach flutter. "Good morning to you, too." You responded, closing your eyes for a moment to take another sip of your tea.

"When uh-" He cleared his throat, putting a fist up to his mouth as he did so. "When are we gonna get started?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, moving the cup away from your lips to stare at him. "I wasn't expecting to be up so early, so just give me a few more minutes to wake up and then we can turn my main lights on."

Leon sucked on his teeth as he thought, turning his head to look over out one of the windows as he rested his wrists on his knees. "Oh, yeah, sorry. Just wanted to make up for being late yesterday."

You laughed softly before letting out a quiet sigh, setting your tea down on the low coffee table sitting behind you.

"Don't worry about it, but also don't make me get up so early again, old man." You attempted to joke, immediately noticing the wince on his face at the nickname. To divert, you stood up and stretched, patting his shoulder as you walked by him. "Alright, let me pull my stuff out and then we can get started."

Leon followed you with his head, taking a few seconds before standing up himself, pressing his hands onto his knees to help get up from the floor pillow.

"I'm just going to be color matching your tones today. I won't do all of it since obviously lighting changes throughout the day, buuuut..." You trailed off, beginning to rummage through a drawer in one of your desks before pulling out handfuls of paint tubes. "I just need to pull out the basic colors I'll be using."

It was still pretty dim in the room which caused you to have to squint to see the names of the colors on the tubes. Leon found that partially amusing, his chuckle causing you to glare playfully over at him. "Something funny?"

"As funny as it is to watch you go cross-eyed looking at those," he smiled, gesturing with his thumb to the light switches near the door. "I feel like it'd be easier to just turn the lights on."

"My retinas will be fried if those get turned on-" You were cut off by your own shout when Leon took the liberty of turning the lights on himself, laughing as you quickly moved to cover your eyes.

He only had to squint for a second before his eyes adjusted. You, however, were not expecting the sudden change, so you got an eyeful of bright white light. Complete and utter agony that lasted for a full five seconds.

By the time you moved your hands away from your eyes, they were watering and you had to squint for awhile longer. "Give me a warning next time you decide you want to try and murder me like that." You said, wiping away the few stray tears you'd produced from the light sensitivity. "You might live in the light, but I don't!"

The man shook his head and crossed his arms, smile still plastered to his face as he slowly made his way over to the chair in front of your easel. "That's payback for calling me an old man."

You twisted your head around to the chair so you could give him an indignant look, catching a glance as he was putting his hands up in defense with a small "what?" before you turned to look down at the tubes of paint sitting next to your hands on top of the desk.

"Nothing, just wasn't expecting to work with a toddler, that's all.." You mumbled, smile creeping onto your face as you heard him click his tongue from behind you. "I was an old man not five minutes ago and now I'm a toddler?" Leon asked, voice peaking dramatically.

"Yes, you have quite the range, Mr. Kennedy." You began sifting through the various paints you'd pulled out, humming softly as you contemplated what route you wanted to take with them. Stick to primaries? Add secondaries? Should I just use every color I need? Hmmm..

Leon watched as you stared at the paint tubes you'd picked up, tilting his head to the side slightly to try and get a better look. He snapped his head back upright when you started to speak again. "I'm trying to decide whether or not to use a lot of different colors, or just stick to a minimum.."

It was almost as if you knew what he was wondering. "Uhh... what's the difference...?" The man questioned, raising an eyebrow as you turned around, seemingly having made your decision already.

"Using just the main 6 colors-" You turned around and were faced with his very confused stare, causing you to explain a little better. "The main colors you see in a rainbow."

He breathed out a quiet "ahh" at that. Okay, good. He knows his basics. Cute...

"I can mix just red, blue, and yellow at varying degrees to get any color I need. Adding green, purple, and orange will help even more." You pursed your lips, lightly tossing the paint tubes in your hands before setting them down away from the other tubes. "I need white also. Damn.."

"What's wrong with white?" Leon asked, leaning forward a bit to watch you dig in the drawer for a tube of white oil paint.

"Nothin'. Just forgot, is all. Trying to keep this as authentic as possible..." You mumble, quickly closing the drawer with a slam after pulling out the paint you were looking for.

Silently nodding his head in acknowledgment, Leon turned his focus to his surroundings again, admiring your choice in decor once more. He bought a nice decorative pillow for his couch yesterday after being here the first time.

You grabbed a few strips of thick white paper, running your thumb along its textured surface before setting them down. You told him to stay where he was as you set up a small art palette, little dollops of the paints sitting neatly in the circular grooves.

"I'm gonna make color swatches of your skin for myself." You spoke up as you suddenly turned and walked towards him, holding the palette in your left hand while holding the strips of paper and a small yet flat paintbrush in the right. "Also, I'll need to get a picture of you in the position you want, but I'll do that after all of-" you waved everything you're currently holding in a small circle. "-this."

Leon simply responded with an "oh, okay", his knee beginning to bounce as you quickly began to mix little bits of your paint together to get a simple pale skin tone down before you even attempted to match his.

As you worked, you were starting to grow nervous with the silence, and clearly the man in front of you was as well, given he had started to sweat slightly on his forehead. He wasn't nearly as conversational as the last two agents you painted.

"So.. you've earned yourself a portrait..." You smiled slightly, holding up the strip of paper you'd brushed your mixed paint on to see what colors to mix in next. "What'd you do to earn one?"

Leon hummed. It was hard to think about every mission he's gone on, all the horrors he bore witness to, the people he saved, the people he couldn't save, how it all started, and now the fact that he's done-

"Hey, woah, I'm sorry." The sound of your voice drew him away from his thoughts. "I didn't know that would be a.. sore subject for you." He blinked at you a few times, furrowing his eyebrows soon after. "What?"

You pulled the strip of paper away from his face, pulling your lips tight with a shrug of your shoulders at his response. "You suddenly looked mad. Like... really really mad. I thought you were gonna snap at me or-"

"No. It's just bittersweet, is all." Leon cut you off, waving his hand dismissively at you before nodding once down to the paint palette in your hand. "You can keep going."

You stayed frozen in your crouched position for a few seconds longer before continuing to swatch your paint. You kept silent, not wanting to seem like you were antagonizing him.

"I used to be just a cop." The man suddenly said, causing you to look up from where you were mixing your paints together. "Only for a single day, but I was a cop. Simple as can be."

You nodded, beckoning him to continue with a small smile, which he did. "I'm sure you've heard about some of that already though, since you worked with Claire not too long ago."

His comment caused you to let out a small "ohh" in sudden recognition, nodding your head again. "Yeah, that's right! She mentioned you on that, okay.."

Leon continued to talk about all of his missions vaguely, still having to keep confidentiality in mind. You let him drone on, having gotten his skin tone matched in a few different areas now. You stopped to scribble on the papers with the paint swatches, making sure to label where each tone came from on his face and hands.

You took note of how he circled back to his single day as a cop and to certain missions. His mention of saving the president's daughter had you immediately smiling. That was a straight ticket to earning his own portrait in that hall of the White House, he could've done just that his entire life and he still would've been seeing you at some point.

You focused on mixing your paint for a little while before noticing he had grown quiet, looking up to see him staring out the window, a faint orange glow from the sun rising highlighting his features. And his tears.

Growing concerned once again, you set down the paintbrush on the palette so you could place a gentle hand on his shoulder. It seemed he didn't notice that, too lost in his head to notice anything at this point.

"Hey..." You asked with a soft voice, your eyebrows furrowing with worry. "We don't have to talk about it anymore, you know..."

Finally, Leon looked back at you, eyes widening once he realized how watery his eyes were. He turned his head away so you didn't watch him wipe the tears that had fallen down his cheeks and use his sleeve to dry his eyes. It wasn't like him to be so easily bothered by this stuff.

"I just need one more color swatch and then you can go, okay? We can save the photo for another day." You gave the man a weak smile, one he didn't reciprocate. You understood.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but you filled in for him. "Seriously, it's no trouble at all. If you need more time then you need more time." Standing up from your crouched position, you left your half-finished color match swatch with the finished ones before walking over to set everything down on the desk.

You didn't want to crowd the poor man. That was probably the last thing he needed. Despite having only painted for a select few, you've learned to just step away from these retired agents when things would go awry. It was akin to a war veteran suffering from PTSD; they did almost have the same experiences as far as you could tell.

"I'm sorry."

Leon finally managed to say to you, his hands anxiously rubbing up and down on the tops of his thighs. Must be a nervous tick.

You angled yourself so you could see him while your body still faced the desk, smiling at him while your hands worked to neatly stack the strips of paper before clipping them together with a paper clip.

"There's absolutely no reason for you to apologize." You kept your smile as you responded to Leon, looking back down at your hands to make sure everything was put together properly. "You forget I strictly work with agents like yourself. From all the vague tellings, I know that the job is tough on you guys; body and mind."

It was weird having someone outside of the agency talk to him about this kind of stuff. It was weird for him to be bringing it up in the first place. Or, at least he felt like it was.

"Still, I should know better than to do that." Leon sighed, rubbing his hand along the side of his face before stroking his chin, scratching at the stubble growing.

"Know better than to do what? Let yourself process everything you've been through?" You spoke in almost a whisper. If your tone was any louder, you fear you'd come off as accusatory.

"I get it. Really, I do." Leon groaned quietly at your words, causing you to click your tongue. You grabbed your swivel chair and scooted it over so you could sit in front of him, and when you did, you brought your legs up to sit criss-cross just like yesterday, only there wasn't a table separating the two of you. You looked solemn. He didn't like where this was going.

"The whole point of painting you a portrait is to honor you and your work as an agent, but it's not just about getting yourself painted." You leaned forward in your chair, elbows resting on your knees, all the while keeping your voice hushed and gentle. "Seeing the portrait once it's finished is going to be an incredibly emotional ordeal. It's a reminder that this is truly the end of an era for you, Mr. Kennedy..."

Your words were really starting to strike a chord for Leon. He hadn't given it much thought. He didn't want to give it any thought at all. All he thought was "I'm just going to get myself a nice fancy portrait and be done with it". He didn't even consider what the portrait of him would actually symbolize.

"Oh." Was all Leon could muster, letting his gaze fall into his lap where his hands now sat clasped together. If it weren't for the comfortable environment you had set up here, he probably would've bolted ages ago.

You let him think everything over for awhile, wanting to give him all the time in the world. Clearly he needed something, but he wasn't allowing himself any sort of leeway.

It took some courage building internally, but you decided to stand up, taking the one step closer to him before placing your hand on his shoulder once more. You squeezed it a bit, bringing his attention back to you as he lifted his head up.

You attempted to smile at him, moving your hand off his shoulder so you could hold your arms out slightly. This man needed a hug and you were more than willing to offer the leeway he wasn't granting himself.

Leon stood up rather quickly which surprised you, and startled you just a bit, before feeling his large arms tightly wrap around you. It was a little awkward since he had to bend a bit to hug you properly, but it worked out in his favor, and yours too, since he got a better opportunity to bury his face into the crook of your neck.

He sighed happily when he felt your arms slowly wrap around his chest, doing your best to squeeze him for that extra bit of comfort, even rubbing up and down on his back. It had been so long since he had a real hug. It felt good.

You let him hug you for as long as he needed, which was longer than expected, but definitely not unwelcome by any means. Though, his warm breath against your neck and the smell of his cologne was causing you to blush. That's really the last thing you needed him to see after being so vulnerable and open with you.

You felt him start to pull his head away, prompting you to pat his back gently as an end to the hug. Despite the fact that it was faint, it was clear to you that he was blushing when you were finally able to look up at him.

You wanted to remain calm for Leon, letting out your nervousness through a quiet cough. "I know we've only met up twice, but if you ever need a change in scenery, just know that my workspace here is always open to you. I'm always open to you, okay?"

Your words were making him feel weird. Something he hasn't felt in a long time was creeping up his chest. Your smell lingering on his coat wasn't helping, either.

"Yeah-.. yeah, okay." Leon huffed through his nose, reaching up to scratch at the stubble underneath his jawline as he averted his gaze to the floor.

The sun was fully up now, so you walked over to where the light switches were next to the door, flipping them off. All your other ambient lights could be turned off later. For now, you needed to focus on the man still standing in front of that maroon chair.

"You can stay if you feel you need to, but I just want you to relax." You said, looking over at him as you heard his footsteps slowly walk past you to the living space.

"I'll head out." Leon bent over and grabbed his motorcycle helmet from where he'd set it down on the rug near the floor pillows. He placed his on his head as he walked over to where you stood next to the door, not really wanting anyone to look at his tear-stricken and red face any longer.

Once he finished fiddling with his helmet, you reached out and took his hand in both of yours, patting the top of it softly. "Text me when you're ready to come back over."

You couldn't see Leon's face anymore since he'd put the visor down, but you could definitely see him nod his head. He opened the door and let himself out, touching the side of the doorframe as he rounded the sharp corner and walked down the stairs.

After closing the door behind him, you started walking around your workspace to turn off all the lamps and other ambient lighting, pausing to listen to the sound of his motorcycle start up and drive off.

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sunandmhoon · 5 months

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Love Songs

Genre: fluff Pairing: Jeonghan X Reader “He thought about your mind, how crazy it must be, how tiring it must be. Who’s on your mind right now? Who has your time? Who have you been seeing? Why couldn’t you just be his?” w/c: 1926 a/n: Hello~~ new story hehe!! Also it’s fluff this time wooohooo. Also idk if you’ve noticed but every svt story so far has been based off a song…hmmm i wonder why that is?? (also I didn't proofread this so I'm sorry for any inconsistencies) ps: pics are from pintrest ctto :) MASTERLIST; OTHER WORKS Jeonghan was never a person that falls in love easily.

It’s not that he’s anti-romantic, or that he hates the concept of giving love or receiving love. In fact, on some days when the rain gets too loud, the room gets too cold and the sky gets too grey, he longs for a nice warm hug from a person that he loves.

He’s had girlfriends before, but they always end in the same way. The same, ‘it’s not you, it’s me” argument. And it is true, he can never find himself infatuated with a person for more than a month. He still finds them attractive of course but he’s never been interested in them, their goals, their big dreams or even their small ones.

That was until he met you.

Meeting you was like an angel appeared at his door; like a gift from cupid to cure his lonely heart. A gift in the form of a new roommate.

Seungkwan was staying in the flat with him before he moved out to his hometown, leaving behind his room and another part of the rent he had to pay. In his absence though, Seungkwan–ever the social butterfly– recommended the place to you, and although Jeonhan was wary at first, he definitely had to thank Seungkwan now.

When he first met you he felt as though his house was graced by a higher being. The sun flooded into the room in golden rays, shining around you, creating a halo above your head. And though he was the known heartbreaker around town, he felt his palms go sweaty and his ears turn hot. And when you spoke, he felt he got worse. Your voice sounded just like it was dipped in honey; smooth and sweet. He could listen to it forever. Your expressions were kind and gentle, you were the type of person that could lure anyone into your charm like a siren in the sea.

He was attracted to you, so so attracted to you, but he brushed it off. It was probably just that, Attraction, nothing more.

As the days went by you two grew closer. First it was catching each other in the kitchen at 3am for a midnight snack. From then on you started talking to each other more. You find out that he’s been living in the flat for five years, he finds out that you just moved to the city. He’s taken you around the area to get you familiar with your surroundings, you’ve cooked him dinner in exchange (and because he only eats ramen in the house). He’s introduced you to his friends, you’ve introduced him to your family.

You even go to him when you need to rant. School’s being annoying? Go to Jeonghan, Your parents are being annoying? Go to Jeonghan, the neighbour that for some reason finds the need to be up at 4am every single morning watching their soap opera at full volume with their door open is being annoying? Go to Jeonghan. Just like the new flat’s been your physical home, Jeonghan has been your emotional home.

You tell him everything, and even though he loves it, he loves that he could be a person you can come to–can talk to and rant to about your hardships, feelings, accomplishments, he somehow hates it when you come to him for advice on love.

“How do I get a boyfriend, Han?”, “Why don’t guys like me?” to “Han, I’ve been talking to this guy”, “what do you think of him?” to the dreaded, “He asked me out on a date!”, “How do I look?” he’s been there through it all. And he won't admit it–he can’t admit that he likes you, he can’t admit that he hates when you tell him not to wait up for you because you’ll be at Woozi’s for the night. He can’t admit that it bothers him that you come home, greet him and go to your room. He can’t admit that he’s lonely again, and that he misses when you would talk to him late at night about your dreams, inspirations, aspirations, goals or even just your shopping list.

And most of all, he hates that you have him listening to love songs. He never used to listen to love songs on purpose, let alone with someone in mind. Love songs have plagued his playlists, and he dreads the day that spotify wraps up his year into one big lovefest. You were sea, sunshine, star and moon; you were his cocoa butter kisses; you were what comes up in his mind when he listens to Daniel Caesar, Frank Ocean and even Drake. You were his in his mind, his playlist, his heart but not his in real life.

He started doing his work in the living room just to see your face, to see you in the kitchen, on the couch or even leaving for school or work or to your boyfriend’s house, because the longer you were with Woozi, the shorter you were in the house.

That was until one day when he came home from work. The world seemed to mirror the same sad mood he’s been in for the past month; heavy rain, grey skies, cold air. It was the kind of weather that made him feel even more lonelier than he already was. He was just about to pass the living room to go to his room when he noticed you asleep on the sofa.

You looked so peaceful that he didn’t want to move, afraid that even the smallest step could wake you up from your slumber. He stood there for what felt like hours but were only a couple of seconds when he was suddenly snapped back to reality with a cold rush of air down his spine. The room was getting colder, he noticed, and he saw you rustling around the couch–no doubt affected by the coolness too.

He saw that your shoulder was exposed to the cool air and quickly but quietly rushed to get a blanket. He placed the blanket over your body, gently tucking the ends to your sides, effectively blocking any coldness from reaching your skin. He froze as you moved, thinking you had woken up, but sighed as he saw you snuggling into the warm comfort of the blanket, continuing your peaceful nap.

He cleaned the area around you, the tissues, empty soda cans, empty chips. You must’ve eaten yourself into a food coma, he thought, smiling at the thought of your well fed self falling into a deep sleep. However his smile dropped as your phone lights up. Rows and rows of notifications piled up on your lockscreen, all from your boyfriend begging you to ‘take him back’, ‘forgive him’, ‘trust him to do better’. And then it made sense to him. The food, the tissues, your exhaustion.

Once he finished cleaning up, he just couldn’t find himself to leave you in the living room all alone. You must have been sad, angry, upset, tired and vulnerable right now, and he would hate himself if he knew he was leaving you in such a state.

He also couldn’t get over the last notification he saw from your phone–he knows that it wasn’t the best thing to go scroll your notifications, but it was there and he couldn’t help it (pls forgive him)-- ‘I can be better than him’.

Him?

Is there someone new?

He sat on the ottoman, beside where your head was laying on the pillow and watched as you breathed. Your chest would rise and fall in steady patterns, showing that you’ve fallen into a deep sleep. Your eyelashes were feathered along your eye, and he couldn’t help but be charmed by it. Him, charmed by the simple sight of eyelashes? He couldn’t believe how much he changed, how much you changed him. Your lips were slightly parted, a pale pink and full. He wondered how it would feel against his own, would they be soft? By the looks of it, he thinks it would.

You looked so peaceful and angelic and he couldn’t help but think about how much you’re going through right now. He thought about your mind, how crazy it must be, how tiring it must be. Who’s on your mind right now? Who has your time? Who have you been seeing? Why couldn’t you just be his?

He knows that you had a boyfriend but still, despite that, why did you stop talking to him as much? You used to be texting him all the time, checking on him all the time, staying up with him all the time. But recently, your interactions were shorter than two sentences. Was it your boyfriend? Was it you? Was it him?

“If you let me,” he whispered, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear gently, “we could paint a perfect picture, we could even last forever.” he sighed as he feels how strong he loves you–it scares him, he’s never felt this way with anyone before. “I’ll even let you wear my sweaters, I know how you get cold so easily,” he said as his eyes traced your face, from your hairline down to your eyebrows to your eyes, to your nose to your lips. He smiled at how perfect you were. “I’m so horribly down for you, Y/N,” he said, “for the worse or the better,” he added.

“To be honest, I hate it,” he said, surprising himself with the sudden confession, “I hate how much I feel for you because It’s so strong that it’s hurting me. But I don’t care, I will keep sticking to you, Y/n,” he breathed in, “Because I love you.”

And although you were sound asleep, he still felt as if the weight of the world has left his shoulders. The burden of keeping it trapped within his heart has finally disappeared, and even though he knew that this confession was done in vain as he knew that pouring his heart out doesn’t mean you have to reciprocate it, he still felt happy that it’s out there.

Maybe you were asleep, but your heart was listening.

He noticed how the sun had disappeared and the clock was moving into the double digits. He knew that your back was going to be painful if you slept there overnight, so he took you in his arms, the blanket wrapped tightly around you still; like a burrito, and carried you over to your room. There he tucked you in properly, propping your head gently a top your soft pillows, laying the comforter over your, keeping the sides snug. Before he turned off the side lamp, his self control had left his body with his confession as he bent down placing a gentle peck on your forehead. When he felt that everything was done, windows checked, you tucked in, lamp turned off, he headed out the door.

“Jeonghan,” you called softly, your voice still groggy from your nap. He froze by the doorframe, turning to you.

“Yeah?”

“I love you too,” you told him, a soft smile growing on your face before you turned over and fell back to sleep.

No amount of self control could stop the smile that was blooming on his face, his mind was fuzzy, his heart was racing. He watched you for a little bit more, the same love-struck smile on his face to see if you were still sleeping.

“Sweet dreams, love,” he whispered before leaving.

He needs to give Seungkwan a gift basket.

-fin.

Like, comment and reblog pls :)

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cookiepie111 · 9 months

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Holiday darling

A/n: not proofread. An extended part to this. (I'm mad tired, I tried 😭 I'm sorry, please enjoy) part [three]

He hadn't planned on coming here again, first was for a holiday and now for a job. He's grateful his team was able to finish so quickly, but it did leave him with a few spare days of nothingness.

He contemplated calling you. It had been a few months, and you'd probably forgotten about him, and with his face covered now, he'd probably scare you off.... well, it's not like he's got anything better to do. The others had gone to town.

He could hear the surprise in your voice when he spoke to you "könig? Is that you? I've missed you, I thought you'd never call again!"

Missed him? His brows furrowed how she could miss him. You barely even knew him. Either way, he's got time to spare in the city, and you were free. You were too kind to him. He'd feel bad knowing you'd never see each other again.

Yeah now that was 6 months ago he's seen you at least 12 times since then. Oh he's desperate for you. This was bad, he of all people thought he was better than this, getting attached to someone they met abroad, he'd expect this kind of stupidity from the new recruits.

Now its 4am, phone in hand the other picking at the skin around his nails. He's crossed the terminal lounge a thousand times now, the workers here must think he's crazy but he's always wanted this for someone to be waiting him at the airport, for a person to come home to, he could at least pretend and find comfort in you for a little bit.

"...... hello?"

"Y/n sorry for the late call I just landed could I stay at your place for a bit?"

There was barely a hum before the line went silent. He took that as a yes.

You probably picked up on reflex, didn't even know who you were talking to. But he was so grateful you picked up and agreed to let him stay. (Well he was going either way)

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strawberry-cowmilk · 1 year

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closing doors

-> lucifer x mc

-> lucifer realises he's trapped in a cycle

mc's gender is not mentioned, not proofread

a/n: to those who get the reference: I love you, also lucifer baby sorry for making you suffer I love you ♡♡

content warnings: angst, alcohol

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The clock ticked 4am. There was still a small pile of paperwork left, great progress for such a busy day. Lucifer inhaled deeply as he poured himself another coffee with the last drops in the can. The bitter beverage had long gone cold, but the avatar of pride didn't care. He chugged it all in one sip and continued scratching the pen on the paper.

The whole house was asleep, the whole house didn't know Lucifer was still up. Nobody knows Lucifer has been busy working and fixing other's problems. Some witch sent Mammon another threatening letter again, demanding her money back, so Lucifer put the cash in the envelope and returned it to the sender. Beel almost made a whole restaurant go bankrupt again, Lucifer sent them some money. He never told his brothers or anyone he's doing this stuff, and he never will.

The demon spends many nights at his desk signing paperwork. To an average person, it might seem impossible, but Lucifer isn't an average person. He's the personification of pride. He is used to it, he does all this work with little effort. Often Simeon stopped by with homemade food and tea, it just annoyed Lucifer. Does Simeon really think he's miserable? Or does the angel think he needs help? It's not like Lucifer is doomed to a life of eternal work. He manages his scedule very well

It was 5:30am when all the paperwork of the day was finished. By now, Beel is probably waking up for his early breakfast and morning run. Satan's alarm should go off by now. The rest of his brothers will sleep longer. Lucifer knows every little detail about his family, he remembers because he loves them so much. His brothers might describe him as cold, but he thinks he's rather affectionate. Anyways, it's probably too late to sleep now, no problem. Lucifer got up from his creaking chair and opened a bottle of fine demonus for himself. The glass clacked as he put the bottle to it, pouring the drink into it. Eventually, as he was sipping demonus, Lucifer realised he never truly showed love to his brothers to their faces. Only through the tiniest of acts they wouldn't notice. Did he ever thank Simeon for checking on him during those long days? Well, that's enough demonus for now.

-----

The day had gone by, it was just your average day: brothers fighting at breakfast, rad, and work. Lucifer sat at his desk signing paperwork again until he got a text. It was from you.

'where are you? I'm at ristorante six'

Oh no. Lucifer quickly flipped open his agenda. To his horror he realised he had a date planned with you. He was supposed to be at ristorante six, an hour ago. This isn't the first time he forgot date night either, he has to get to the restaurant as soon as possible. He can't stand you up again. He can just pull another all-nighter to finish work.

Dinner was awkward though, Lucifer was clearly acting off. The average outsider wouldn't be able to tell, since this man is so good at masking his emotions. He's not like this usually. You gripped your fork tighter before speaking. 'Is everything okay?' Lucifer's crimson gaze met yours for a brief moment. 'Yes, are you enjoying your food?' Of course he wouldn't admit what was wrong. You decided to drop the topic for now.

Back home, Lucifer immediately locked himself in his office again. You knew better than to immediately go after him. He would send you away. Honestly at this point you don't know if you should try talking to him, maybe it would be wise not to. But your gut was telling you something else. You waited a while before gently knocking on the office door.

Truth is Lucifer realised something during dinner: he IS drowning in work. It's always been like this, even back in the celestial realm. He has no time to show proper affection to those he loves. Pride made him think all is well, pride poisoned him. It turned him cold. It was like every gram of warmth that was once inside of him slowly leaked out since his birth. His gaze immediately shot to the door when he heard the knock. 'Come in.'

He knew what you were going to ask the second he saw you. 'Mc, I am fine, you may leave now.' you played with the hem of your shirt. 'Really?' Lucifer dipped his pen in the ink a little more aggressively than usual and nodded. 'Mc, leave now. I have tons of work to do.' The truth is, Lucifer craves nothing more than your comfort and affection right now. He wants to tell you about the thing he realised so badly, but he can't. Not with a reputation to keep up. Not with Diavolo he basically handed his soul to after Michael.

You felt like you couldn't just leave, there has to be something. 'Can I at least stay in your office? I can't sleep.' Of course Lucifer didn't buy it, but he allowed you to stay regardless. After you've been awkwardly lounging in one of Lucifer's chairs, he invited you to sit on his lap. Immediately you noticed his grip on you was tighter than usual, but he kept focussing on work regardless. You know, even if he'll never be free, at least Lucifer has his family, friends and of course you to make him smile. Eventually you fell asleep in his embrace, Lucifer carried you to your room, kissed your forehead goodnight and went back to work.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me lucifer #gn!mc #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me angst #lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #tw alcohol #tw drinking #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer x reader

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7ndipity · 10 months

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Nervous

Taehyung x Reader

Summary: meeting his band mates brings out some of your insecurities, but Tae's there to keep you steady

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, not proofread,

A/N: Thank you to @tpiliper for sending this request, sorry it took me a little longer to post!(Also I wrote half of this at 4am, so I'm sorry if it's not great)

Masterlist

Requests are open

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You were staring off out the window, not taking in any of the landscape passing by outside, when you felt a warm hand entwine with yours and gently pull it away from your mouth, breaking you out of your train of thought and causing you to look over at Tae questioningly.

"You were doing it again." He said, glancing at you from the driver's seat. "Everything okay?"

"Mhm, just a little nervous." You said, pressing your lips together self-consciously. "Sorry."

"There's nothing to apologize for." He said with reassuring smile.

Tae knew you tended to pick and scratch at your lips when you were stressed or bored, often not even realizing that you were doing it until it was pointed out. It was one of your more noticeable habits that you had tried to break in the past, but it was difficult.

Tae had always been very understanding about it though and had tried to help where he could, subtly trying to dissuade you by taking your hands whenever he noticed you doing it. His top priority since the beginning of your relationship had always been making sure that you never felt embarrassed about it with him, knowing it was an unconscious action.

"There's nothing to worry about." He reassured you, pressing a kiss to your fingertips, the sweet gesture causing a light trace of color to creep over you face. "They're gonna love you."

You nodded, but remained silent, unable to quell the anxiety in your chest.

You were meeting his groupmates for the first time today, and to say you were nervous was a understatement. You knew that the guys were basically his family, so the importance of this evening going well had hung heavy over you all week, feeling very much like a make or break moment in your mind, but you had tried not to let your unease show.

You didn't speak again until you arrived, Tae quickly coming round the car and taking your hand as he always did, but you hung back against the door.

"What if they don't?" You finally said, chewing on your lip.

"What?" He asked.

"What if they don't like me? What if they think I'm too weird? What if-"

"Honey, calm down." He said, stopping you before you could send yourself into a spiral. "First of all, you could never be too weird, you're dating me, remember?" He poked you cheek, making you scrunch your face up while biting back a grin.

"They will love you, because I love you." He said, pulling you close. "And if they don't, I'll hit 'em."

"You will not!" You exclaimed, pushing him away as he laughed, having succeeded in getting you relax a little more.

"Trust me, by the end of the night, they won't give you a moments peace."

"Is that supposed to be a threat or a comfort?" You asked, making him laugh again.

"C'mon."

The evening passed smoothly, just as he'd predicted. He'd kept a close eye on you throughout the night to make sure you didn't get overwhelmed, but there had been no problems. His members had made you feel like you'd been friends for ages, Jungkook even teasing that you and he should hang out more, which Tae had been quick to shut down, much to your amusement. "Yah, they're mine! Get your own!"

Later, as everyone was preparing to leave, Tae pulled you off to the side for a moment to check on you again. "So, what'd you think?"

"It was fun, I really like them." You said.

"Not more than me though, right?" He raised a brow at you.

"Never more than you." You replied, earning a boxy grin from him as he leaned in to kiss you, resulting in a chorus of "aww"s and a couple "eww"s from the others behind you, making you both laugh.

"See? Not one moments peace!"

#taehyung imagine #taehyung scenarios #taehuyng #taehyung fluff #taehyung drabble #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x reader #bts scenarios #bts one shot #bts drabble #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts requests #7ndipity

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saikokirakira · 2 years

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The Curse (Marc Spector x Bakunawa!Reader Intro pt.2)

a/n: i'm awake at 4am because i had a sudden burst of inspiration. i initially didn't plan on updating this week, but here i am. since this was not planned at all, editing and proofreading in this part is at its barest minimum. i fell asleep proofreading this. sorry bout that.

but there'll be a part three for marc's intro, just like jake's, because it was getting too long from all the flashbacks. there's also a lil snippet for part three at the very bottom.

Prev: III. Marc pt.1 | Next: III. Marc pt.3 | AU Masterlist

warnings: violence; childhood trauma; inexplicit child abuse; mentions of blood; arthur harrow; UN-EDITED AND NOT PROOFREAD; non-canon Filipino mythology

“So, essentially, it’s a curse.”

“Yes, but confining him to your body will help Bakunawa reach its full potential and gain more power during eclipses. He’ll be as strong as his true form.”

“But I already have his blessing. Why would I want more power by chaining him to me?”

“Bakunawa, let her go.”

“She’s not here, mortal.”

Your tattoos spread across your body, almost moving and limbs. Your arms began bleeding as iridescent scales emerged from under your skin.

Sharp talons extended from your nails, and from the way your eyes flashed inhumanly topaz, Marc knew you weren’t there anymore.

“She wouldn’t want me to hurt you, mortal. Surrender the Moon God, and I will spare you.”

“I can’t do that.”

Bakunawa snarled, his neck frills swaying dangerously from being denied.

“I’m running out of time. The portal for the Ennead will appear soon, and you wouldn’t want other deities coming for her.”

“You underestimate me, mortal.”

It wasn’t long before your nails elongated into dangerous talons, ready to inflict serious damage on the Moon God’s Avatar.

“What if… what if I don’t want this power?”

A ring buzzed in your ears before you registered the cut on your bottom lip. You were struck across the face.

“You refuse the responsibility that calls you, that the gods bestowed upon you? You dare shame our village and our anitos?”

“Bakunawa… stop,” you managed to choke out.

You’ve seen the damage you’ve inflicted on Marc while Bakunawa controlled you. Deep cuts, a noticeable limp, and probably more bruises under his clothes.

And he knew. He knew not to summon the suit and risk Khonshu in front of the serpent deity.

He was alone.

Every full moon, you were submerged in the water tank, illuminated by moonlight, just like that very first night he appeared.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice unheard and dispersed in the form of bubbles instead.

In the darkness of the water, you swore you heard the pained cries of Bakunawa as the elders began their spell, binding him to your soul.

The eclipse ended, and despite the injuries you’ve inflicted on him, Marc managed to carry you through the portal that led you to the Pyramid of Giza.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, clutching at his blood-stained jacket. “It’s not his fault.”

Marc’s face said it all – the empty eyes, the tension between his shoulders, his indifference to your presence.

You were a monster in his eyes.

Your mothers hoisted you up from the water tank the very moment dawn broke. The elders were long gone and wouldn’t need you around ‘til the next full moon for the next round of spells.

“I can’t take this anymore. I’ve become a monster,” you cried, clutching at their robes. “I don’t want this. I don’t want him. Make them stop.”

Mama consoled you by holding you close to her breast, and Nanay wrapping you in a thick towel on your soaked form.

“Hathor.”

“Oh, good you know each other.”

Yatzil, the goddess’ Avatar, smiled. “In another life perhaps, Bakunawa has always—,” she paused, then raised a slender hand to your forehead. “May I?”

With your permission, Yatzil’s eyes flashed white for a moment before she hummed a sweet melody. It was oddly familiar, maybe from a different life.

Like she knew about the music that soothed Bakunawa’s curse. Even for a moment.

Your head rested on Nanay’s lap as she hummed soft melodies and rubbed at the spot between your brows to calm you.

“I can’t break the spell,” Mama whispered, thinking you were fast asleep. “Not without killing her. Only the ones who had casted it in the first place can.”

“Then we have to get her out. Take her away from the elders.”

Hathor’s song had put Bakunawa to sleep, hidden in the back of your mind. You felt calmer, but the dread and regret stayed.

It felt as if you woke up from a lucid dream where you drifted in and out of memories. The weight of those memories sat heavily on your chest.

“We will allow you to speculate,” Osiris’ Avatar declared, nodding at you.

You watched as each Avatar were overtook by the gods they served, how Marc looked pained every time Khonshu boomed out his anger and frustrations.

You wondered if that’s what you looked like when Bakunawa overtook you.

You probably looked worse. You had to look away from Marc at that thought, remembering that you tried to kill him not too long ago.

It wasn’t long when Harrow arrived. Just as Khonshu planned.

He passed through a hallway just as you and Marc did, and he paused right in front of you, surprised at your presence and your disheveled appearance.

Then he smiled. A faint one, but devious enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“Khonshu is unhinged and his servant unwell.”

Your temper flared, and you felt your talons stretching out again.

He was doing this on purpose.

“Khonshu also summoned an eclipse knowing a cursed lunar deity is in Cairo, bought it in this Chamber, nonetheless.”

At the word ‘cursed,’ Bakunawa seized control once again and lunged almost at the same time as Khonshu did.

Both of you were restrained to your knees immediately.

“Khonshu is taking advantage of these two individuals the same way that he abused me, the way he aspires to abuse this court.”

“Let us speak to Marc Spector and his companion.”

“Are you unwell?” “Did Khonshu know she was cursed?”

Your heart broke a bit when Marc nodded, and it tore even more when he brushed it off and pleaded them to acknowledge his warnings about Harrow instead.

Nothing. They refused to listen and dismissed the matter.

Yatzil pulled you and Marc aside to tell you about Senfu and the map to Ammit’s tomb.

“Good luck.”

(Part 3 Snippet; only dialogue; cut version)

“You should’ve told me. Or at least told Steven.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but you haven’t given Steven control for the past week, Marc.”

“That is not what I mean.”

“I never planned to tell Steven about Bakunawa. I didn’t know about him being… well, part of Khonshu’s Avatar.

“But I swear, I would never hurt him.”

“I know you won’t, but he would, and he did.”

“I. Won’t. Hurt. Steven. Ever.”

“I want you to go back to London. Layla and I will find the sarcophagus. We’ll take it from here.”

#moon knight fanfiction #marc spector x you #marc spector x reader #bakunawa!reader #bakunawa au #moon knight x reader #moon knight fanfic

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marchtothefuckingsea · 2 years

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Fighting Insomnia

Hihi! Another Bucky fic! Something a bit shorter than the last, and more of a comfort/fluff fic than anything else :) good feels

first of a back-to-back bucky posts! the next, coming in a couple of days, will be longer and possibly my last fic for the next week or so as I'm going to be super busy the next couple of weeks, sorry!

Enjoy!

My Masterlist, I have another, longer Bucky fic up there right now, as well as some other stuff you might like!

x gender neutral reader, no use of y/n. slight undertones of hurt/comfort, mostly fluff. pre-established platonic relationship, friends to lovers. Lightly proofread.

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: reader experiences insomnia, self doubt/insecurities, a brief, undetailed mention of nightmares.

Summary: Reader can't sleep and goes to work out at the gym in the middle of the night. Bucky finds them, fluff and comfort ensues.

I groaned, propping myself up on my forearms and looking at the clock on my bedside table. 4am.

"Fuck." I muttered, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I gripped the sheets tightly in balled up fists and I was hit with a wave of dizziness. I was drugged up on sleeping pills, but they still hadn't worked a bit.

Whenever I did manage to doze off, I was startled awake by the brief flash of a nightmare behind my eyelids.

Sleep would not come to me tonight, just as it hadn't been the past couple of nights either.

Once I managed to stand up, I threw on a sweatshirt over my t-shirt and ditched my sweatpants for a pair of leggings.

I stumbled out into the hall, cursing under my breath as I ran into a wall. I desperately hoped no one else was up at this hour. No one at the tower needed to know about my insomnia, it was insignificant compared to the magnitude of some of the others' problems. I had been managing it just fine on my own, I told myself as I trudged into the training area.

I planned on just throwing a few punches, not finding the need to wrap my hands. But soon, my sweatshirt was shed on a nearby bench and my knuckles were raw as I mercilessly took out my frustrations on the punching bag; my self doubt, my inability to sleep like a normal person, how I had fucked up on the last mission, how utterly useless I was.

Tears were welling in my eyes as I punched harder and harder, ignoring the throbbing pain in my hands as my hits grew more desperate. My chest heaved with the unshed tears.

"Why're you up so late?" I froze, backing away from the bag. I quickly wiped the tears from my eyes with the back of my wrist, attempting to make it appear as though I were wiping sweat from my brow.

I attempted a weak grin.

"Early." I corrected. "Woke up and decided I'd start my day early."

"Don't bullshit me. This isn't the first time I've seen you out and about in the middle of the night." His words were stern but his voice was soft.

"What are you up then?" I retorted.

"Not the point." The corners of his lips quirked upwards in a small smile, as he leaned against the doorframe. "I asked first."

I sighed in defeat. "Couldn't sleep." I muttered under my breath.

"That makes it two nights in a row then, yeah?" He asked.

I recoiled. "What?"

"I heard you up last night." He said softly. "You need rest."

"Obviously if you're hearing me moving about in the middle of the night, then you're up too. What gives?" Then I added, "Hypocrite.".

"This is about you right now. What's wrong? Why aren't you sleeping?"

I hesitated, debating if I should tell him the truth or not. "I..It's just insomnia. It's nothing really, usually sleeping pills work like a charm they just haven't been for a couple of days-" I rambled out in defense.

He cut me short. "Why didn't you tell me sweetheart?"

"Look I know you have your own problems with that, I don't need to add onto them. Mine aren't that serious anyway it's just a bit of lost sleep here and there. Nothing as bad as yours."

He pushed himself off of the wall, lazily walking over to me.

"You're losing sleep over it, I think that's pretty important." He continued. “That’s why you messed up on the mission yesterday, right?”

He had caught me and my resolve weakened. “..Yeah, I guess so. I was just being reckless too.” I admitted tugging my sweatshirt on and wincing as the sleeves brushed across my raw knuckles.

“Thought so. Let me see.” He said softly.

“They’re fine.” I said, knowing exactly what he was referring to. “Just a bit bruised. I didn’t even think to wrap them.” He gave me a disappointed look, seeing right through the lie. I sighed, giving in and holding my hands out to him. My feet had suddenly become the most interesting thing on the planet.

His hands were soft and warm as he turned my hands over in his, wincing when his thumb brushed across my bleeding knuckles. “We need to clean this up, yeah? C’mon.” He tugged gently on my wrist and I allowed him to lead me out of the room and down the hall. I hesitated when he walked right past my door. “James?”

“We’re going to my room. I know you’re not going to sleep in yours.” He answered. I didn’t argue, knowing he was right but not quite agreeing. I’d rather lay awake all night on my bed than crash on his sofa, not that it was all that uncomfortable but it wasn’t very comfy for sleeping.

He opened the door to his room, leading me straight to the bathroom. I squeezed my eyes shut as he flipped the light switch on, my head pounding with the sudden light. His arm left the small of my back for a brief second as he shuffled things around in the medicine cabinet, pulling out a roll of bandages. I grimaced. “It’s fine Bucky.” I mumbled, backing out.

“Oh no you don’t. That looks like it must hurt like hell.” He reached for my hand, remembering at the last second and settling for resting a warm hand on my shoulder instead.

"Just let me do this for you okay?" He spoke softly.

"Fine." I mumbled, allowing him to once again take my hand in his larger one. He gently tugged me over to the sink, turning on the cool side of the tap as he held my hand under the faucet.

I hissed when the cold water hit my knuckles, trying to pull my hand back. "I know doll, I know." He murmured. He rubbed comforting circles on the back of my wrist with his thumb. As the pain subsided, I let out a sigh of relief as I flexed my hand a bit, testing it out. It already felt better.

He cut the bandage with his teeth as he held my hand between the both of his. He wrapped the bandage around my hand and proceeded to repeat it all over again with my other.

As he was bandaging my other hand, I mumbled out a 'thank you', glancing up at him appreciatively. His eyes rose up to meet mine and he smiled at me. "Let's get you some sleep now." His hand once again found its way to the small of my back, guiding me out of the bathroom. He turned towards his bed, and I made a move to break off to go to the sofa. He steered me towards the bed instead and I gave him a look. tilting my head slightly in confusion.

A goofy smile made its way onto his face as he turned to face me and mumbled, "You're adorable when you do that."

I was serious. "I'm not taking your bed from you Bucky."

"'Course you're not sweetheart." I finally got the hint as he pulled his t-shirt off, leaving him in his sweats. I suddenly realized what he was hinting at.

"This isn't..I'm not overstepping or anything am I?" I had always been unsure where I stood with Bucky, especially the past couple of months. Lines had been crossed and blurred to an almost unreadable point.

I, of course, knew how I felt about him and I had always been cautious of showing that, not wanting to ruin what we had between us. I was content with just being friends as long as I got to have him around me, I didn't think I could take it if I destroyed our friendship by admitting my, at least in my opinion, unnecessary and most likely unrequited feelings.

"If you're fine with it, I'm fine with it." He laid back, patting the spot next to him. I nodded slightly and then gasped in surprise as he unexpectedly pulled me down onto the mattress beside him laughing.

I flailed around for a moment, trying to get my bearings before settling down. I let out a shaky breath as I realized I could feel the heat radiating off of him.

My breathing had just evened out when I felt him sling an arm over my waist and my breath hitched. I felt him hesitate. "You okay with this?" He asked uncertainly.

"No. No I mean, yeah as long as you are-" I was cut off as he pulled me against his chest, tucking me into him and chuckling. I could feel the rumble of his laughter against his chest. My breath caught in my throat.

"Are you comfortable?" His voice was soft.

"Yeah." I let out a soft sigh, allowing myself to relax into him. I had no idea what this meant to him, but I would enjoy the closeness while I could.

"Good." He mumbled, pressing his face into my hair. I closed my eyes in contentment, letting out a soft hum. "I love you, you know."

My eyes opened. "You mean it?"

He chuckled softly. "Of course I do. Wouldn't do this for anyone else."

"Bucky this whole time-" He cut me off, reaching his hand up from around my waist to brush his thumb softly across my lips.

"Shhh. I know. I didn't want to ruin anything either, but at this point I figured, hoped at least, that the feelings were there."

Gaining confidence both from his confession and my now languid state, I tucked myself further into his chest as I let out another hum. He sighed. I felt him press a kiss to my hair, his lips curling up into a smile. "I take it I guessed right?" I could hear the smile in his voice.

"You did." I mumbled, eyes drifting shut.

"Goodnight doll."

"G'night Bucky."

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