Pretend | The Darkling

Pretend | The Darkling

A/N: i made the darkling vulnerable in this fic. i also tried my hand at writing flashback scenes like Leigh Bardugo, and idk, i think it turned out okay. could definitely use work, but there's always room for improvement.

warnings: mentions of wounds, flesh, and blood.

*my taglist is in my bio and linked in my masterlist as well*

MASTERLIST

You quietly knocked on the door, listening for the soft rasp of Aleksander’s “Come in.” When you heard it, you tentatively stepped in and closed the door behind you. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his kefta and shirt draped on the foot of his bed. His torso and arms were covered in bandages, and a sickly sweet smell hung in the room--you’d have to talk with the Alkemi later about tweaking the scent of the salve they concocted for Aleksander.

A bowl of water and a jar of the salve sat on the bedside table, accompanied by rolls of bandages and an assortment of cloths. You immediately set to work soaking the cloths in water as Aleksander began unraveling the patchwork of bandages on him.

Neither of you said anything while you worked; you didn’t need to. You had already established a routine on that fateful day, as soon as Genya and Ivan had found Aleksander on the steps of the palace and hauled him the rest of the way in and to his room.

You could never forget his screams of agony the night he was brought back.

You could never forget his screams echoing in the halls before all went silent.

You remembered rushing to his room. Genya and Ivan stood by his bedside, and you realized that Ivan had probably had to lull Aleksander into unconsciousness before he woke anyone else. Neither the Tailor nor the Heartrender needed to ask you to help; there were herbs and juices already on the bedside table--no doubt brought by Genya--and you had set to soaking cloths and quickly mixing up a temporary salve without another word.

The blankets were pulled back and you could see poorly wrapped bandages crisscrossing Aleksander’s torso and arms. You inwardly cringed at the shoddy work, but gestured for the removal of the bandages.

“Ivan, make sure no one else comes looking this way.” Genya had muttered, and set to work removing the bandages while Ivan nodded once and stepped out of the room soundlessly.

You almost cried when you finally saw the extent of the wounds. Raw and red angry flesh with black veins streaking everywhere and the insides of his wounds had screamed at you, but you took a deep breath and wiped away any salves and other fluid before beginning your healing work.

Your hands moved slowly, mending the broken skin and flesh as best as you could, but even you had to admit: you were nowhere near the best Healer nor did you think that any supernatural wound caused by supernatural creatures could ever be healed--if at all. You weren’t even sure why you had been called; there were plenty of other better trained Healers in the palace.

But you worked anyway, and soon, the red flesh had looked less angry than it did when you came into the room and Aleksnader, though unconscious, looked a little less pained. The wounds still were painful, though, if Aleksander’s heart beating at a rhythm faster than normal and slowly rising temperature was any indication. When you had finished working and bandaging the rest of his wounds with Genya’s help, you smiled tiredly at her and told her to get some rest.

“I’ll keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t wake up again.”

Genya patted your arm, then took your hands in hers and squeezed them reassuringly. “Come wake me to watch him later. You need to rest, too.”

When Aleksander woke that morning, he saw you curled up in one of the armchairs across the room with an open book in your lap and smiled softly. He could almost feel as if the pain wasn’t real if he thought about how the tiny smile you sported as you slept looked adorable. But he quickly schooled his features into a blank expression as the door opened and you jolted awake, book falling to the floor with a dull “thud” as you stood up quickly. You had winced at the sound, then picked up the book and tried straightening your hair and smoothing the wrinkles out of your kefta before Ivan escorted you back to your room.

When you had come back to his room that night, Aleksander suddenly asked you why you were helping him as you began peeling off his old bandages and tossing them in a bucket by his bedside table. You could hear his unspoken question, though: Why do you even care?

“You’re in pain, sir-”

“Aleksander is enough. I think we’re well past formalities now.”

It might’ve been a trick of the light, or even your imagination, but you thought you had seen the faintest of smirks on his face and heard the slightest of teases in his voice.

You snorted, shaking your head. “Of course. Like I said, si--sorry, Aleksander. You’re in pain.”

He gave the barest of head shakes. “It hardly hurts.”

Hiding a small smile, you had him stand as you moved to wipe off excess salve and dried blood on his back.

“The physical pain might not hurt you, but…” You sighed and stepped back to his front and looked up at him.

“You hurt here-” You tapped his chest, right over where his heart was. “-and here.” You tapped his head, right on his temple. For a moment, you rested your hands where they were, one on his heart and the other cradling the side of his face. You could feel the beating of his heart, the impulses of his brain, the tightening of his jaw...then you took your hands away and put them around your bandages.

Aleksander would never admit it to anyone, but he found he had missed feeling your hand cradling his face and heart.

You had waited for him to say something else, but he stayed silent.

“Who hurt you, Aleksander?” It took everything in you to keep your voice steady and to keep it from cracking.

Again, he didn’t reply, and you shook your head and finished your task in silence.

Since that night, you watched him from the shadows, just always out of sight. You made sure he was still able to work and walk around, but you could see him hide his grimaces of pain or excuse himself and disappear towards one of his rooms. You never brought it up when you saw him at night or in the morning, but you knew it had to stop soon. He’d never heal, and it hurt you to see him hide his pain.

“What?” Aleksander suddenly said, jolting you out of your thoughts.

You blinked, then realized you had been staring at him with a frown. He was studying your face with a slightly curious--but mostly unreadable--expression.

“Nothing, just...thinking.”

“...About?”

“My first couple times healing you. And after you...just after.”

“That jarring, hmm?” There was amusement laced in his voice.

You snorted, then sighed. “No, rather...saddening.”

He paused, the barest of frowns tugging at the corners of his lips. You had clearly surprised him.

“Scars don’t jar me, Aleksander. They haven’t for a long time. They stopped being frightening long before I began mending you, anyway.”

He hummed in thought, then turned around so you could reach his back. The scars were looking much better than they had that one night, no longer red nor angry--but they still held the inky black veins that writhed and slithered ever-so-slightly as the light danced on it as if alive.

You finished spreading the salve on his scars, then carefully wrapped the bandages around his torso and arms again, like you had so many times now. As you helped him lie down, you couldn’t help but say, “I don’t know how you do it.”

A beat passed before you registered what you had said.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“How do I do what?”

You took another moment to respond.

“Pretend you’re okay.”

Aleksander frowned. “I’m not pretending.”

You took a deep breath, feeling a lump grow in your throat. Now is not the time to start crying.

“Yes, you are. Every single day.” You ducked your head, turning away from him. “And it breaks my heart.”

You opened your mouth to say something else, but then decided against it and moved to make your way out of his room. He had heard you enough; it was time to leave and pretend you had never said anything.

“No, we’re not done.” Aleksander sat up and climbed out of bed as fast as he could with the bandages and wounds. You could see him trying to hide his grimace from the sudden movements he had made. No doubt the cloth rubbed against his cuts and gashes the wrong way every time he moved. He grabbed your arm before you could leave, holding it in a firm grasp that was loose enough for you to pull away from if you wanted.

“I’m not pretending,” he repeated.

You shook your head. “You might be able to fool others, Aleksander, but you can’t fool me. You think I can’t see it? You think I can’t see that you’re hurting?”

“My body is riddled with still-healing scars; of course I hurt-”

You dropped the bucket of used bandages and wrestled your arm out of his grasp.

“Do you remember-” you snapped, then closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Now is not the time to get angry, either. “Do you remember...what I told you, my first morning mending you?”

“That I was hurting here-” He took your left hand and placed it on his temple, your hand cradling it exactly like that morning. “-and...here.” His other hand took your right hand and held it over his heart.

“Yes, and do you know why I told you that?”

He shook his head.

“I told you that because you were reluctant to let anyone help you, save for Ivan or Genya…” you sniffled, then cradled his face, being careful of his scars. You looked him in the eye and were surprised to find tears welling up. “I saw you, all these days. I saw you wince and grimace and hide your scowls as best as you could...and when the pain was too much to bear, you disappeared to your rooms.”

Aleksander ducked his head, no doubt sheepish that someone--no, not just someone: you--had seen him.

“All I’m trying to say is, it’s okay to show pain. It’s okay to be vulnerable. It’s okay.” you murmured.

“I know.” he nodded, his voice barely audible.

“It’ll take some time, but please, you’re hurting yourself more, and it kills me every day.”

“I know.” His voice cracked slightly, shaky with every breath he took.

“Let me in, Aleksander. Let me help you.” You sniffled again, quickly wiping away at the stray tears that fell. “Please. I don’t want to see you hurting any more than you have to.”

“I-”

He cut himself off and pulled you close, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He shook as sobs wracked his body and he slowly sank to his knees. You crouched with him, settling him down against his bed, then pulled the blanket off his bed as you sat next to him. Wrapping the blanket around your and Aleksander’s shoulders, you felt him slouch down more so his head was level with yours, then lean his head on your shoulder. You rested your head on his, smiling at his pickiness.

“It hurts, Y/N, it hurts so much. I want it to stop.”

“Shhh...I know, love, I know.”

“I want it to...want to...want it to go away.”

“And it will, in time.”

You held his hand firmly, like you were anchoring him. He wasn’t living in his pain; he was here, in the Grand Palace, with you.

“Come on, let’s get you in bed.”

Aleksander moved slowly as he climbed into his bed. You pulled his blankets over him, then brushed a stray hair from his forehead.

“Sleep now, love, for tomorrow we can start anew.”

You stepped away from his bedside, but felt a weak hand try to grasp your hand. You looked down to see him trying to reach for you, his eyes still wet with tears as they asked a silent question.

Will you stay?

Smiling softly, you grabbed a book off of one of the many bookshelves against the wall and climbed onto the empty space next to him, opening up the book and beginning to read. Aleksander’s hand found yours and gripped it tight, then pulled it close to him, resting it by his heart.

“Can you read to me?” his shaky voice broke the silence.

“Of course.” you replied, and began to read about the tales of two heroes, one cunning and the other loyal, traveling from town to town and getting into all sorts of trouble. As the night wore on, you found yourself struggling to keep your eyelids from drooping more and more.

You finished the chapter quickly, then closed the book and set it down next to you. Aleksander had long since fallen asleep, his hand still clutching yours close to his heart. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple, then leaned against the headboard and closed your eyes.

“Sleep well, dear one.” you whispered. “I will be here when you wake.”

~

Taglist: @odetostep @pansysgirlfriend

Just a thought but Sirius or someone having a thing for you for ages and at some point you finally get together but Remus James and Peter just don’t believe it because you’re so opposite and Sirius just trying to convince them but they don’t believe him until they walk into you kissing or something. Love your work btw <3

kinda changed it to sirius being with someone they never expected but i hope you enjoy it! and thank you!!🖤

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“Pads is dating her?!”

Remus and James stood in front of Peter, lips parted in shock at the rumour that just left their friend’s lips. They had been in the common room, respective textbooks sprawled around them when Peter came rushing in, eyes wide and cheeks flushed at what he had just seen.

At first, they thought their friend was taking the piss and waited for Sirius to jump out from the shadows with a grin on his face, claiming it was all a prank. But no Sirius had appeared and Peter kept talking and—fuck, they just couldn’t quite believe it.

In all honesty, it was shocking enough that Sirius had settled down with one person, let alone that he was dating you of all people. 

You stood for everything they assumed their friend hated, purely because you would’ve been Walburgha Black’s number one choice to marry her eldest son off with. 

You were raised with the pureblood etiquette, speaking prim and proper and not even allowing yourself to use slang as you spoke. You were a Slytherin, and proud to be so. You were crazy smart and you were the image of pureblood royalty, though the cold shoulder you usually gave people and the snarky attitude didn’t exactly make it easy for even those with a pureblood complex to approach you. 

Even if for some bizarre reason their friend had fallen for you, the fact that you liked him back was shocking enough to keep both boys seated on the couch as Peter retold the story for the thirteenth time. 

“I’m calling bullshit,” James said with a shake of his head. “This must be some elaborate prank he’s pulled off.”

“And what? Got her involved?” Remus asked. 

“Maybe it’s someone with a polyjuice potion,” Peter supplied. 

“Or maybe Pads is actually dating her,” Remus said before his nose scrunched up. “Yeah no, he’s definitely up to something.” 

It took less than five seconds to work out where Sirius was with the help of the map that was quickly shoved in their pocket as all three boys began rushing towards the courtyard, so sure that whatever Peter had seen had to be false. 

Because there was no fucking way that Sirius Black was—

All three boys quickly drew to a stop when they noticed you both. You were sitting on a picnic blanket, leaning back on your hands as you nodded along to something. Sirius, however, had his head propped on your lap, talking away as his hands moved animatedly to the point they could have sworn they saw your lips twitch into a smile. 

“Holy shit,” James gaped at the sight. 

“It could still be a prank,” Remus said, though he didn’t know how much he really believed that himself. 

And just when they thought they couldn’t be shocked any further, you leaned down to press your lips against the wizard, his hand coming to grip the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss. 

“Moony, are you seeing this?” 

“I’m seeing this, Prongs.” 

“Right, great because I think I’m gonna faint.” 

What they couldn’t see was the way Sirius’s lips twisted into a grin as he continued to kiss you, his fingers expertly pulling the clip out of your hair until it cascaded around you both. 

“Your friends are still staring,” you informed him, the words whispered against his lips as you began to pull back but he was quick to chase you. 

“Let them stare all they want, love,” he murmured as his thumb lightly brushed over your thumping pulse. “I bet they are fucking confused.” 

“Such crass language,” you hummed. 

Sirius smirked. “Gonna punish me, love?” 

You shook your head in amusement, pulling back fully despite the way Sirius playfully pouted in response. “You wouldn’t be able to handle my punishments, Black.” 

His eyes gleamed at the challenge. “Is that so?” 

“You are all bark and no bite,” you informed him and the boy was quick to scramble up, his hands darting to your sides as he crawled over your squirming body. 

“I can show you just how hard I bite, love, you just gotta ask.”

.

KDKQKDNWORMWIOWKDOWMCIENEOEJALFPIFHQOEKQPDMKMQSSJIERCKOMZWQIOMWPOAZPOKQSUOXIUNZ

I don’t know if someone has asked, but rockstar!sirius telling r he loves her for the first time?? Maybe it’s a little while into their relationship..?

today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)

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You pant slightly as you shut the door behind you, and for Sirius's benefit, you lean back against it and heave a dramatic sigh.

"Got it," You gush, holding up the bag in your hands with a cheshire cat grin, "Your fans are intense."

"What- darling, what is that?" Sirius frowns at the record store bag in your hands, tossing his phone to the side where he'd been scrolling through twitter.

"Your new album," You gloat, pulling the shrinkwrapped vinyl out of the plastic bag, "I had to elbow a teenage boy out of the way," You admit, "But I think I deserved it more."

"Baby," Sirius laughs, a pitying sound, "I could have gotten you one. You didn't have to do that, have you forgotten I'm with the band?"

"But I wanted the real fan experience," You gush, snatching a sharpie off of the table and kneeling on the couch beside him, staring up at him with pleading eyes, "Will you sign it, Siri?"

He lets out a raucous bark of laughter, plucking the sharpie from your hands, "Sure, darling. I'll sign it for you."

He gets busy with the sharpie, scribbling this way and that, scrawling his signature along with a note. When he presents it proudly back to you, and your eyes rove over the striking black ink, 'I love you', your eyes fill with stinging tears.

"I love you too, Siri." You gush, leaning over the album to ring your arms around his neck.

"M'biggest fan," He croons, kissing your earlobe after he's murmured into it, "The songs on there were f'you, y'know?"

thinking of a fic in which wolfstar pines for reader and the fact that she won’t be able to choose between the both of them

hekdjwjdiwjdjejd

Full moon Remus being possesive! I just think that if anyone dare to look at you he would just hold you tight and be like “mine 😠”

It’s so basic but I love it!

FULL MOON REMUS IS BECOMING MY FAVOURITE REMUS RN I CANT LIE🫡thank you for requesting!🖤

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It should have been a nice day out to Hogsmeade with your friends with very little chance of anything going wrong. 

So, of course something had to go wrong. 

It was a warm day, exams were far enough to not cause you enough stress just yet and Sirius had convinced the group that Saturday would be the perfect opportunity for a day out to Hogsmeade before they got sucked into studying and stress. And truthfully, you all needed the break. 

You ate breakfast together, meeting just after ten before you headed out to the nearby town. You went from shop to shop, laughing and joking and enjoying the little sun the Scottish weather seemed to bestow on you. It was truly the perfect day. 

The problem didn’t arise until the sun was beginning to set and you had made your way towards the Three Broomsticks to enjoy a drink or two before you headed back to the castle. Remus had been needier and touchier than usual, but it was nothing you weren’t used to. You knew it was just him being a little on edge with the full moon approaching in the next few days, and truthfully you didn’t mind the extra affection. 

So, it wasn’t odd when he threw an arm over your shoulder when you were talking to Dorcas. And it wasn’t odd when he placed a line of soft kisses along your jaw to gain your attention. But then he was practically pulling you onto his lap and it was enough for you to turn around, a look of concern on your face at the rage in your boyfriend’s eyes. 

You followed his gaze and found him glaring at a classmate you recognised from your herbology class. The boy seemed to look over just at that moment and flashed you a smile, giving you a friendly wave and you returned the gesture. 

That was the last straw for Remus. 

The rest was a blur of fists flying, blood spilling and James, Sirius and Frank having to tear Remus away from the boy before you could even reach him. You had barely said a word other than ‘follow me’ as you grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the pub, only giving the wizard a glare when he tried to wrap his arms around you. 

And now you were sitting in one of the bathrooms, cleaning up the cuts on his face with as much skill as you could without having to take him to Madam Pomfrey.

“Don’t give me those damn puppy dog eyes,” you grumbled to him, your eyes focusing on the cut by his eyebrows instead of the soft expression your boyfriend was giving you. 

“M’sorry,” he murmured, his hands wrapping around your thighs and tugging you to stand between his legs. You couldn’t bring yourself to bat his hands away. 

“Are you actually sorry or are you just saying that because you know I’m angry at you?” you asked in a blunt voice. 

“Both?”

“You are something else, Lupin.” 

He let out a soft groan at the use of his last name, his forehead pressed against your stomach as his arms wound themselves around your legs. “I am sorry, baby, he just…he kept staring at you,” he grumbled, a flicker of anger in his chest as he noted the way the boy had been staring at you all night. “It pissed me off.”

“So you just had to swing at him?” you retorted.

He lifted his head, his chin pressed against your stomach as his darkened gaze met yours. “He needed to know who you belonged to, sweetheart.”

You raised your brows. “So now I belong to you?”

“Yes,” Remus stated simply, his hands running up and down your thighs until they moved up to squeeze your ass. “And I belong to you.” 

“Stop saying stuff that makes me swoon, Lupin,” you grumbled as you raised a hand to push the hair away from his face, watching with some amusement as the boy growled in delight at the feeling. “I’m trying to stay mad at you.”

“Let me make it up to you,” he murmured, his nose nudging against the hem of your t-shirt as it started to rise. “Let me make you scream my name.”

“You’re such a cocky bastard.”

“And you love what this cocky bastard can do with his—”

“Remus!”

“Don’t worry, baby, there will be plenty of time to scream my name.”

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33 with remus in the otp dialogue prompt pleaaaaaaaase ><

33. “I don’t want them. I want you.”

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Remus Lupin was usually quite a dignified drunk. 

It was rare for him to get to a state where he embarrassed himself, even when he pushed his limits to blackout conditions. He, by some grace that James and Sirius envies, always managed to keep himself together quite well. 

Until tonight, it seemed.

“Let’s go.”

“Darling, we can’t go.” 

“They won’t notice.”

“Remus, it’s our wedding. I think they will notice.”

The day had been perfect down to every single small detail and you were blessed enough to share it with your closest friends and family. It was a small event, nothing glamorous or grand because that didn’t match either of your styles. It was a simple ceremony with a reception just for you to let loose and enjoy the love you shared with the people you cared about most. 

It had hit just past eleven when Remus had stumbled over to you, yelling ‘my wife’ comically loud before attaching himself to you and he had yet to let go. 

He had wrapped his arms around you, his sleeves rolled to his elbows and his blazer lost after his third drink. His head was nuzzled into the crook of your neck, sloppy kisses placed against your skin and drunken serenades made as he sang along with whatever music that was playing through the speakers. The summer night air was thick and sweet and made your cheeks glow, and fuck, Remus had never been more in love. 

“You look so pretty, m’love,” he grumbled against your skin, his fingers fiddling with the small details of your dress. It was simple and white and it was truly nothing special, but you looked like a goddess in it to him.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Mr Lupin,” you teased lightly, your hand coming up to tangle themselves in his messy, sandy-brown hair. Whatever product Sirius had put in it at the start of the day was long gone and completely helpless now. 

“Good because I plan on fucking you, Mrs Lupin,” Remus retorted bluntly.

You snorted. “Is that so?”

“Don’t laugh, I am being deadly serious,” he whined softly and his hands squeezed your waist a little tighter. “I wanna fuck my wife.”

“We have guests to entertain, love,” you said to him, though you were unable to bite back the smile on your face every time he used the word wife. “They need us down here.”

“I don’t care what they need,” he muttered.

You tried to hold back your giggles as his nose brushed against a slightly sensitive spot. “Don’t you wanna dance and celebrate with your friends?”

“I don’t want them. I want you,” Remus said to you before he lifted his head, twirling you around so you could take in his flushed cheeks and hooded eyes. “I wanna fuck you in this dress.”

You couldn’t help but smirk. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” he nodded his head, his hands bunching the material of your dress in tight fists. “Been thinking about it since I saw you walk down the aisle in it.”

“That’s a long time,” you teased.

“Then you know how desperate I am,” Remus countered.

“Half an hour more then we’ll sneak off, okay?” you compromised, holding out your pinky to him. 

Remus pouted but relented as he linked his pinky with yours. “Thirty minutes and not a second more.”

“Always a man of virtue, Mr Lupin.”

“Virtue is the last thing on my mind when it comes to you, Mrs Lupin.”

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