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murdockparker · 1 month

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Our Cottage

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: A first anniversary is nearly as important and memorable as the wedding day—if only she had remembered it. Or, at the very least, hoped her husband also forgot. Knowing her husband? Unlikely.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: fluffy fluff!! cheesy as cheese gets I'm afraid, mentions and illusions of sex but no smut (sorry babes maybe next time)

A/N: Another self indulgent fic for me myself and I. You're welcome to read it if you want I guess—I have nothing else to say about it

The room was too fragrant.

Maybe it was her sensitive sense of smell that had awoken her, but something about the near ten bouquets that adorned her bedchambers led her to believe that both could be true.

“What in the world?”

“Good morning, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree said, knocking unceremoniously on the door. “I do hate to intrude on your beauty sleep, but I was instructed to beat the drapes and I’m afraid this is the last room I have left to do.”

“No, no,” (Y/N) groaned, sitting up in bed, “I bet it’s time for me to rise anyway. Can’t sleep the day away.”

“You’re much more forgiving than Mr. Bridgerton,” Mrs. Crabtree smiled, entering further into the bedchambers. “As much as I miss the young master’s presence here at the estate, if he found out that I awoke you early,” she laughed quietly, “I reckon the mister and I would be packing our bags before nightfall.”

“Oh please,” (Y/N) peeled the covers off of her body, stretching her legs, “Benedict loves you both dearly—”

“But he loves you more,” the woman points, making good work of taking the drapes off the wall. “Why, do you think Mr. Bridgerton would purchase the same amount of flowers for me?”

She looks closer at the bouquets—all full of a different variety of blooms. Most filled with her favorites, but a handful were a collection of his favorites as well. “Why did Benedict purchase all of these flowers, anyway? It seems excessive…”

Mrs. Crabtree’s smile seemed secretive at first, fading in realization after looking Mrs. Bridgerton in the eyes. “Oh, my dear, you’re serious.”

“Benedict is usually known for romantic gestures,” (Y/N) said indifferently, “I do not recall a time he did something quite like this, though.”

“Well, I can recall a time Mr. Crabtree and I had to clean up a shocking amount of paint and a few precarious handprints across his study…”

She wished she was still in bed, wanting nothing more than to pull the covers over her bright red face. It was one of the many nights of their honeymoon—Benedict had the bright idea to try and paint with their bodies instead of brushes. She thought he had the decency to clean it all up in the morning. She thought, anyhow.

“I-I’m sorry you had to clean up such a mess,” (Y/N) said, praying the apology could transcend lifetimes. “I will be sure to let Benedict know he needs to be more careful with his oils.”

“Oh, your love keeps me young, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree said. “But as I was saying—do you really not realize why your husband had purchased so many flowers?”

“Not a clue.”

“Perhaps it isn’t my place,” Mrs. Crabtree said slowly. “But you and the master have been married for a year now.”

“Yes, yes,” (Y/N) waved. “Nearly year of marital bliss—”

“A year ago, today.”

“Today is… surely not…”

Noticing a perfectly placed card in the bouquet on her nightstand, she grabbed it and quickly sped over the looping font.

Dearest,

I hope these blooms find you well, I instructed the Crabtrees to be extra careful in their delivery this morn. As exquisite as the flowers may be, and I insisted on their exquisiteness, they could never hold a candle to you. Light of my life and song of my heart, how pleasantly perfect the last year has been.

Happy anniversary, my love.

Yours forever,

Their anniversary. Their first anniversary, and she had completely forgotten about it.

“Mr. Bridgerton is still visiting Kent until this evening,” Mrs. Crabtree explained, as if the young missus didn’t know. “I’m sure that provides ample time to prepare something for his arrival, at the very least twelve hours give or take.”

“How could I have forgotten?” (Y/N) was beside herself, forgetting her anniversary? Her first anniversary? Surely it wasn’t an omen of some kind. She was holding onto his note rather tightly. “What kind of a wife am I?”

“Not a terrible one,” Mrs. Crabtree said. “Why, I recall forgetting quite a few of my anniversaries as well.”

“Not your first one though, correct?”

“Well, no—”

“We need to go to town,” (Y/N) said determinedly, flinging her closet open, eyes scanning over every sensible dress she owned. “I need to figure out a way to top whatever spectacle my husband has planned for this evening.”

“I’ll call for a carriage,” Mrs. Crabtree sighed, knowing full well that the drapes will not get finished this afternoon.

“If we were in London, why, I’d have hundreds of choices on what to get Benedict,” (Y/N) said, skimming through the few booths at the market. Life out in the country was agreeable, favorable even, but it was moments like these that she truly missed the convenience of living in such a populated place. “I just do not see how I am to make a gift with anything here.”

“Perhaps, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree said, carrying a basket full of fresh fruit and veg—taking every opportunity of the market while they’re out, “perhaps you should try gifting something from the heart?”

“What to wives usually get their husbands for the first anniversary?” (Y/N) asked absentmindedly, fingers running over a healthy pile of apples.

“I find that most women in your place have the pleasure of gifting news of an heir right around or before the year mark,” Mrs. Crabtree said, a hint of a smile dancing on her lips. “I don’t suppose you can surprise Mr. Bridgerton with such news?”

Her face went red. “No. Decidedly not.”

“Shame,” Mrs. Crabtree clicked, “I was rather hoping to be doting on a babe sometime soon…”

“What did you give Mr. Crabtree for your anniversary?” (Y/N) tried to change the subject, ignoring the perfect thought of a little baby with Benedict’s eyes. Perhaps they would have her nose? Her smile?

“Well,” the older woman’s face lit up, “our Henry was the best kind of gift—for me or Mr. Crabtree. I wish I could be more help in that regard, dear.”

Defeated, (Y/N) threw a handful of apples into her basket. The apples weren’t even all that good this time of year. Perhaps she could convince Mrs. Crabtree to bake a pie. Either way, a snack for the horses and their hard work this morning.

“Please forgive me for speaking out of turn, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree spoke quietly, “but your husband loves you dearly, I am quite sure he would be most content with any gift you give him.”

“Oh I am sure he would be well suited to accept anything I made or purchased,” (Y/N) agreed. “I rather think I could sneeze on a piece of parchment and he’d write to the National Gallery to induct it into their collection.”

“He would,” Mrs. Crabtree agreed, holding back a laugh.

“Why did I marry such a thoughtful man?” (Y/N) groaned, fist clenching tighter on her basket. “I am destined to be in this predicament every year until the day I perish, aren’t I?”

“To be in a happy marriage, ma’am?”

“To have to deal with my inadequacy for gifts,” she corrected. “We are but a competitive match, after all. Chess is a blood sport with us,” (Y/N) laughed, recalling the last time they had played the game. They both were of the same mind, irritating as it were, it was as if they were playing themselves. It usually ended well regardless, with one under the other in the bedroom. “He probably has been planning something since we were wed, I’m sure. How do I ever top such a thing?”

“Might I suggest the baby narrative again?”

“Mrs. Crabtree, I know you mean it in jest, but it really sounds like my only option at this point.”

“I cannot help my need to see perfect little Bridgerton babies around the estate,” Mrs. Crabtree said cleverly. “But I also know when that day comes and you and Mr. Bridgerton do end up having children, it will be the most welcome of presents. Just, not this year, hm?”

“No,” she sighed, “not this year.”

“Very well,” Mrs. Crabtree nodded. “Perhaps we should head back to the estate?”

“I suppose,” (Y/N) sighed again, kicking a stray rock off of the path. “No use in sulking at the market when I can sulk in the comfort of my own home and await my perfect husband’s arrival with his perfect present.”

“Chin up, dear,” Mrs. Crabtree laughed, putting the baskets away in the carriage. “It’s endearing that you care so deeply about Mr. Bridgerton's gift. I’m sure whatever you land on will be just perfect.” A tease of sarcasm, a tease at her young missus.

“You’ve made your point,” (Y/N) grumbled, hopping into the cab. “Perhaps I should just accept defeat.”

“Oh, well now that won’t do,” Mrs. Crabtree admonished playfully, closing the door behind her. The carriage begun moving home. “You yourself said you were a competitive match, and I for one would like to see Mr. Bridgerton bested. All men need to be reminded that the wife is the true head of the house from time to time.”

(Y/N) snorted. How she cared so deeply for the staff here in the country, the Crabtrees were always a breath of fresh air. “He’s well aware.”

“Remind him anyway,” Mrs. Crabtree said absentmindedly.

As if struck by lightning, Mrs. Bridgerton knew exactly what she could gift her husband.

Benedict was exhausted. His family’s bad timing is never lost on him, needing his immediate attention at Aubrey Hall for one reason or another. His mother’s correspondence begged him to come urgently, a matter only meant to be discussed in person rather through letters. With a heavy heart he left his wife behind, knowing he’d only be gone for a handful of days anyway, even if he would be missing the majority of their anniversary day.

Benedict grinned wickedly. They still had plenty of the night, however.

When he originally had purchased My Cottage, he never expected to share the less-than-humble estate with anyone else, but like it was meant to be—and he had a very good reason to believe it was—(Y/N) made it her own and took to the country as well as he thought. She had even made fast friends with the Crabtrees, who, by all regards, Benedict thought of as family.

“Mr. Bridgerton,” Mr. Crabtree greeted, nodding to the young master exiting the carriage. Anthony had sent for him with a family transport—knowing Benedict would not want to leave (Y/N) without—all the more reason for his brother to agree to come to Aubrey Hall. “Welcome home, sir.”

“Crabtree,” Benedict nodded back, jumping down to the dirt path.

“How was your family, sir?”

“Dreadful,” Benedict groaned. “Made even more taxing by the two entire days of travel there and back. Do they not realize how far Wiltshire is to Kent?”

“I am sure the viscount is well aware,” Mr. Crabtree said, treading lightly. “I am also sure that they would not have called upon you for a small matter, either.”

“No,” Benedict sighed, rolling his shoulders. The trip had been a long one, his muscles ached. “It was a good reason for my visit, but it still pained me to be from my wife for so very long, especially today.”

“Ah, well, your missus has not been herself since you left,” Mr. Crabtree said. “I am quite sure that seeing you will be a happy reunion indeed.”

“Please ensure that you and your missus find your lodgings in the cabin, this eve,” Benedict said, as if the thought just occurred to him. Asking his staff to stay at the cabin by the pond became a regular occurance, especially after his marriage. “It is my anniversary, after all.”

Mr. Crabtree smiled. “Already done, sir.”

“Excellent,” Benedict said, trying his best not to grin from ear to ear. “Have a good night.”

“You as well, sir.”

Benedict knew that dinner would be waiting for him inside, Mrs. Crabtree probably having already made his favorites. After his day of travel, he was ravenous—more for food in this very moment than anything else, but he would settle for his wife, too.

“Darling,” Benedict called out, removing his boots by the front entryway. “Your fantastic husband has returned!”

Silence.

“Darling?” He called again, only to be met with the ticking of the grand clock in the foyer. “Playing hard to get, it seems…”

A shimmering of light caught his eye. Candlelight was emitting from his study, his studio, flickering from the crack under the door.

Odd.

“(Y/N)…?”

He opened the door cautiously, only to find his wife hunched over an easel. She had a streak of blue paint on her right cheek, a smidge of green right across the bridge of her nose. Benedict couldn’t recall the last time he saw something so endearing.

“Oh! Benedict!” (Y/N) said, nearly jumping five feet into the air. “You’re home!”

“I am,” he laughed, shutting the door to the study. “What’re you doing in here?”

“Cooking,” she deadpanned, posing with a hand on her hip, painters pallet in the other. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“After all my begging to get you to pick up a brush, you decide to do it whilst I’m away?” He pressed his hand to his chest. “I cannot decide if I am touched or hurt.”

“It was meant to be a surprise!” (Y/N) laughed, setting the pallet down. “A gift for you.”

“A gift?” Benedict mused, walking closer to his wife. “And what did I do to deserve such a gift?”

“You married me,” she said simply, wiping her hands of any wet paint. They were still covered in a kaleidoscope of colors, but all dried down and hardly worth the effort to clean at the present moment. “A year ago today, I gather.”

“Oh yes,” Benedict said knowingly. “That is today, isn’t it?” His wife grinned up at him, looking more beautiful than the day he met her, a day he could have sworn was burned into his mind forever.

“So I’ve been told,” (Y/N) said. “I hate to admit, but I started on this later that I would have liked, only working on it for the last eight hours—”

“You didn’t happen to forget our anniversary, did you?” Benedict crossed his arms, his voice teasing.

“Of course not!” She lied, keeping her voice even. “You are just an impossible person to make a gift for, that is all.”

“Ah,” Benedict clicked. He did not believe her, but forgave her all in the same breath. “I see.”

“So it is not yet finished—”

“May I see it?”

“No, not yet,” (Y/N) said, turning the easel away quickly. He couldn’t have possibly seen what it was from where he was standing, anyway.

“What if…” Benedict crossed the room, carefully opening the closet in the wall. “We showed them together?” He pulled a similar sized canvas from the contents of the closet, covered in a plain white sheet. Of course he painted her something, it seemed only right. She married an artist, after all.

“Yours is going to be much better than mine,” (Y/N) said, nearly melting into the floor. “I will feel inadequate comparing our work.”

“Nonsense,” Benedict scoffed, walking back towards his wife. “They were both made with the same amount of love, I’m sure of it.”

“Perhaps…”

“Come on,” he said, nudging her arm with the corner of his canvas lovingly. “On the count of three?”

She nodded. “One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

She spun the easel around just as Benedict removed the cover from the canvas in his hand.

Laughter filled the room.

“Oh my darling, I could kiss you,” Benedict said, voice full of love, his eyes not straying from her canvas for a moment. “Granted, I have wanted nothing more than to kiss you since I arrived—”

“Out of everything we could have painted,” (Y/N) giggled, brushing hair out of her face. “We picked the same subject?”

On both canvases laid a landscape rendition of My Cottage, one obviously more well-done than the other. Benedict’s gave a sense of perfect imperfection, something worth hanging in a gallery or museum. (Y/N)’s, while being done by the hand of a novice in only a handful of hours, gave it the sense of home, the shared feeling the couple had every day at their estate.

“We share the same mind,” Benedict surmised, setting his work on a neighboring easel, putting both side-by-side. “What a stunning collaboration on our end.”

“You jest,” (Y/N) pushed Benedict playfully. “Yours is far superior to mine. A toddler could have done better work.”

“Nonsense!” Benedict said, pulling his wife into his side, kissing her temple. “You obviously put such care into it, no matter how lopsided the left side of our home may be—”

“Benedict—”

“It’s brilliant, my love,” Benedict sang, turning (Y/N) to look directly at him. “I couldn’t have asked for a better gift.”

“Truly?”

“Well, I fear I am still waiting on my welcome kiss…” Benedict sighed.

“Needy, needy man,” (Y/N) bubbled, rocking on her toes to reach her husband’s face, all but happy to oblige.

After a total of four days apart, the kiss was one that was worth waiting for. Saccharine sweet and slow, it was welcoming, it was home. Much like their first kiss, Benedict idly wondered if (Y/N)’s lips were always meant to be captured in his own—as if they were quite literally made for each other.

“Oh dear,” (Y/N) giggled, pulling away from her husband’s embrace, thumb rubbing soothing circles on his jaw. He needed to shave.

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

“Paint,” she said, swiping her thumb across his cheek. “Entirely my fault. I’m not even sure how I got it on my face to begin with…”

“Hardly the first time,” Benedict quipped, leaning back in to kiss her once more.

“Do you really like it?” (Y/N) asked, resting her head on his shoulder—their attention somehow turned back to the canvases. “Or are you lying to me?”

“I would never lie to you,” Benedict said. She believed him. “But, I do suppose a few more hours would boast well to the quality…”

Another playful slap to his arm.

“Where are we to hang yours?” Her hand grazed his masterpiece. He must have finished it ages ago, hiding it away for just the right moment. “The entryway gets too much sun—”

“What about our bedchambers?” He offered.

“No, I want our guests to admire your work of Our Cottage,” she hummed, focusing her attention to the beautiful wreath he lovingly added to the front door. She loved adorning their door with fresh flowers, a detail he surely could have overlooked, but still included anyway. “Perhaps in the drawing room?”

“Our Cottage…” Benedict mumbled happily. “I think it’s high time we changed the name to that, don’t you agree? Seeing as it is no longer ‘my’ anything, not with you here.”

“Considering it still is not a cottage in the slightest, I have a few disagreements on that alone,” she teased. Their estate was nearly the furthest thing from a cottage, nearly a small mansion. “But yes… Our Cottage seems fitting.”

“And where will we hang your masterpiece?” Benedict pulled her tighter into his side. “Shall we hang them side-by-side? Allow our guests to see just how talented the Bridgertons can be?”

“Oh I am quite alright with stowing this away until forever,” (Y/N) laughed. “No guest needs to see this poor attempt when the true artistry falls onto you.”

“Poppycock!” Benedict dismissed. “My wife worked very hard on this, I refuse to just ‘stow it away’.”

“Well, then where do you suggest we hang it?” She said, trying not to smile, his praise flooding her senses from her head to her toes.

“I may have a few ideas…”

The wondrous scent of flowers filled their home once more, something that happened more and more frequently in the summer months, when flowers of all sorts were in season. Benedict made sure he outdid himself from last year, adorning each room in their home with at least two bouquets each, rather than just a load in their bedchambers. His reasoning? They only get the once to celebrate their second anniversary, might as well make it special.

“Should we move this one?” (Y/N) asked, holding a rather large assortment in her hand. “I would hate for her to be overwhelmed by the scent…”

“Darling, she’s fine,” Benedict said, grabbing the bouquet from his wife. “But, if you insist, I shall make an exception on this room.”

“She’s a baby,” (Y/N) giggled, watching her husband clumsily run across the hall to place the bouquet in their bedchambers. “I do not think she has the capacity to admire such a thing yet.”

“We want our daughter to be well versed, do we not?” Benedict said, returning to the nursery. “Best we start her on the language of flowers as soon as we can. An educated lady is a respected lady.”

“You’re impossible,” (Y/N) grinned.

“So I’ve been told.”

“God, she’s so perfect,” she said, looking over the crib with a look one could only describe as lovestruck. “How did we manage to make such a beautiful thing?”

“You did most of the work,” Benedict said, suddenly beside her. “I only showed up the once, if I recall.”

“Oh hush,” (Y/N) leaned up against him, feeling the warmth of his body touching her own. “A perfect anniversary present.”

“She’s been quite the gift the last few months, I’ll give you that,” Benedict hummed, his fingers lazily rubbing shapes on the top of her arm. “But I’m afraid that title still falls to the gift from last year.”

Framed perfectly atop the crib of their precious baby girl was the rendition of their home, the one (Y/N) had worked so hard on a year prior. While it had looked a bit more polished after Benedict offered his wife some very well needed advice, it was still lopsided and patchy, but very much full of love. He had hung it two weeks later, after it had completely dried and framed, causing his wife to sob tears of joy on the placement.

Their daughter was born only nine months after.

“Our Cottage,” she sighed happily.

“Our Cottage,” Benedict kissed her temple, looking down at his daughter and back at his beautiful wife. “Happy anniversary, my love.”

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagines #hi i love b.b and no one can stop me #if anyone wants some wine with a side of this CHEESE come and see me

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prophetszendo · 7 months

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How the birds fly (Pt. 1)

Content warning: attempted suicide, very negative thoughts. Only read if you are in the right mindset

Summary: the adventuring life took a toll on you, and you face your feelings on a nightly walk

Pairing: Astarion/you (no use of pronouns or y/n)

Word count: 2.7k

Tags: hurt/comfort, kissing, I guess fluff?, I am horrible at tagging please forgive me

About the dialogs: they are in two different "-marks, because my program uses my native language as default. And as I'm not a native speaker, feel free to point out typos, or simply weird sentences. I aim to be better with English.

It was a very long day. You finally made camp after walking for half a day, defending yourselves against an ambush, then gettinf lost in some woods. You ended up in a clearing, somewhere up in a mountain. You were not even sure anymore that you were heading to the right direction.

Setting up camp always came with it’s duties. One of it was collecting wood for a fire so someone can make the only meal you usually eat a day. Today, you were on wood and branch duty. As if it wasn’t me nearly always – you thought to yourself. Everyone clearly preferred not doing it. It was a long task and if unsuccesful, the bearer could be blamed. They didn’t went far enough, didn’t look hard enough.

Of course, everyone was on edge by now. The tadpoles in your head, the waiting, the constant danger looming over all of you created this snappy and sarcastic environment. They never really meant any of it, it was just a way to let off some steam.

You tried to not think about any of it while you picked up another piece of wood. Somewhere in the distance you heard some birds rustling, chirping, and then flying away. You tried to look through the trees surrounding you to see their siluettes in the dawn, but they were far away.

Once you deemed you had enough wood, you headed back. You heard the camp from far away. Your companions talked loudly, as if they were in a tavern, not on some mountain in the middle of nowhere.

This used to make you smile. You used to think there was at least once place you could remotely call warm and home. Right now it just felt distant.

„I’m back” you announced. Your companions looked up in sync, and in agreement, they took all of it from you and started making a fire to cook. Everyone, except Astarion.

He had this game with you. Sometimes he gave you attention, and other times, like this, as if you were thin air. Which you probably wouldn’t have cared about that much, if only you didn’t have feelings for him for a time now. When he gave you his attention, it was simply heavenly. Great flirtatous talks, teasing words, maybe a few stolen moments alone, or a drink for him, from you. They were cherished by you.

You sighed as you sat down, watching the others get lost in the chaos of collecting the ingredients for dinner.

Gods, you felt alone.

Later, when it was already late at night, you lied in your tent, wide awake. You were exhausted, yet dreams evaded you. Maybe for the better – you thought to yourself. Since the tadpoles, they were confusing, and you couldn’t get the proper rest and awoke feeling tried.

You decided to take a walk. Maybe moving around could make you a bit more sleepy. You decided to take the same route you used for collecting wood. At least you had an idea where you were there, and where was camp.

It was a very clear night, the moon was also full and shining bright. So bright, that it nearly dimmed all of the stars.

You zoned out while walking. When you came to, you noticed a cliff. You decided to take a rest there, and using what light tbe moon provides to just sit and watch.

There was a branch conveniently a few meters from the edge of the cliff.

In the distance, you heard and owl making noise. The next moment, it flew above you, and into the horizon.

You always wanted to fly. It seemed so free. From everything. Let it be the ground that was under you, or the burden of everyday life.

Not that you had a big burden back in Baldur’s Gate. It was the opposite, really. Everyday was the same. It grew dull overtime. Yet you couldn’t find anything motivating enough to change it. You were prepared to grow old, doing the same thing. You also had trouble bonding with people there. Not that you didn’t try, the friendships just always seemed to wither away with time. And the tavern buddies slowly all stopped showing up, until you were sitting by yourself, drinking some cheap ale.

Originally you thought of this tadpole event to be the push you needed to finally change your life around for the better. Learn new skills, like how to set up camp, survive on your own, decide which berry is edible. Make great friends for life – if you make it out alive. You were positive at the start that you would. You took on every challenge, helped every person that came your way, moved every rock to find a cure.

The others started to see you as their leader. It made you happy, gave you a purpose.

Until it became too much. You had to make the hard choices: who to side with? Which lead to follow? Kill someone and be sure they won’t spill your plan to the enemy, or let them live and be hopeful that they will be true to their promise?

It didn’t help that everyone had opinions, which they didn’t hesitate to share. And someone always disapproved, and it was on you.

And seemingly only you had nothing personal to solve. Everyone had a life, a purpose, a big enemy, an end goal. A reason to get the tadpole out. What waited for you after the adventure was just... grey. As it was before.

You sometimes wished this adventure would never end. You liked being around everyone. Karlach’s happy demeanor, how she seemed to be excitied for everything. Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s conflicts did bring some tension, but it always turned out well in the end. Gale and his magical hunger made you slightly amused: who actually eats boots? Not to mention Wyll, Halsin or Volo.

Astarion. Obviously, he was the star of the group. For you, at least. You loved how he liked deception and mocking people. You loved hearing his sweet words, especially when one of those were your name. You loved, when he opened up a little about himself. How life was for him as a spawn. It twisted your heart to hear him struggle, and you tried to help any way you could. Basically blidly following if he had a suggestion, even claiming it was your idea, if the others asked.

You believed your feelings became obvious for the others some time ago. You overheard them talk, then suddenly go silent when they saw you. Your name was whisperes silently along with Astarion’s a few times, but you were never included in those conversations.

You stood up, and took a few steps ahead, while fixing your gaze on the stars. They looked beautiful, like tiny little lanters far in the sky.

Like how the blood splattered from the goblin you killed today.

The image suddenly invaded your mind, and you now all you saw in the sky was bloodshed and violence. You didn’t want to end their life, it seemed pointless. They didn’t even seem so evil, just like a few pawns in the bigger game.

You tried to redirect your thoughts, so you thought about something else. More precisely, someone else. His silverish hair, eyes so sharp, that they see into your soul, his vampire smile he only shows with you.

Usually these pictures comfort you, but how Astarion had been acting lately, you just felt more invisible, even smaller.

Yes, invisible. You found the right word. As if you were hidden behind your responsibilities and decisions. As if your opinions, emotions did not matter anymore. Because you will do all the hard stuff, let it be collecting wood, taking the blame, or deciding to let someone bleed out or end their suffering.

They probably haven’t even noticed just how much you had on your shoulders.

Would they notice if you were gone?

You took a few steps closer to the cliff. You wondered what could be on the bottom. Maybe the river you passed recently? Or was that on the other side? Maybe a few boulders.

The memory of the birds you heard today flashed i ro your mind. You really did want to feel free, like how they were flying away from you.

You stood on the edge. The front of your feet were not even on the ground anymore. The moon didn’t give enough light to see what was on thr bottom. It seemed like a dark pit, that could just swallow you whole.

You felt something cold on your face. You realized that while you were lost in your thoughts, you started crying.

You never faced your raw feelings before. Maybe that’s why. Or because you finally made a decision. One, that would make sure you never ever had to make anymore.

„I always wanted to try flying...” you whispered in front of you, into the abyss.

You closed your eyes, and put your arms out, imitating wings. You shifted your weight, and started to fall forward...

...and with a suddend yank, you fell back, onto something warm.

You were confused, and it took you a few seconds to realize what happened. Sounds slowly made it to your ear, and the little light into your eyes.

„Fuck, dammit, you... No, it’s not your fault, I’m sorry, but shit, I can’t believe... Do you know what you were doing?!”

A voice came from under and behind you. It was rambling, sounding very distraught. Maybe even scared.

You turned around, still a bit lightheaded from the shock of falling backwards. Your eyes met a very familiar pair of scarlet eyes.

Astarion.

He was panting, as if he ran from camp all the way here. But you doubted it, he wouldn’t run after you. Maybe he noticed you were gone?

Suddenly, he hugged you tightly. His fingers dug into you, as if you could just float away anytime from his grasp. He felt warm, which was unusual to you. But truth be told, he never held you like this before.

He struggled breathing. He didn’t need to get air, which just added to the list of strange things happening. Maybe you actually fell and now living in just a fantasy?

But no, you slowly started to hear soft sniffles with the breathing. Astarion was... Sobbing.

„I’m... So, so sorry” he said, making eyecontact again. You noticed tears forming in his eyes.

You were at a loss for words. You finally pieced together what happened. Astarion saved you in the last second, and he was clearly distraught by what happened.

You felt guilty.

„What happened?” Astarion asked with a soft voice. You looked away, not being able to make a sound. You yearned to share your feelings with him, but there seemed to be no proper words to use. Nor a voice to say anything with.

„You... You’re so strong. What happened? What did we... What did I miss?”

The correction in his sentence made you heart flutter and ache at the same time. He clearly was very caring towards you, but you feared it was just one of those times and that it would never last longer than a few days.

„I’m...” you stuttered. Your voice felt like it wasn’t yours. You had to put all your strength into forming just a few words. „...not...strong...”

Astarion looked at you, with immense worry. You couldn’t say more now, and you felt like you couldn’t speak again for a long time.

You tugged on his tadpole, inviting him for a visit in your mind. You previously all agreed in the group, that you give everyone the privacy of their own mind, so you opening a way into yours was unusual.

You gave him a faint smile. You tried to put encouragement into it. He closed his eyes, and stepped through the door into your memories and feelings.

You showed him everything. How life was for you in Baldur’s Gate, and just how miserable you felt. How the initial excitement of this adventure turned into a daily torture of decisions, where there was no right answer, responsibilities which were crushing you, and the constant judgement of others.

You showed him the rollercoaster of feelings his actions caused. The hope you cradled for so much time, the longing you felt for him. The pain you felt everytime it seemed like he was just toying with you.

You shared how ready you were to let things end.

As he experienced your feelings, his arm grew even tighter around you, and he slowly buried his wet face into your neck.

After you showed him everything, he pulled out of your mind. He lifted his head, but only so much that his mouth was to your ear.

„You’re so much stronger than I thought you to be, darling” he whispered. „I never knew you struggled so much. You always seemed so sure, you... You never took any shit. You seemed so brave and determined.”

He gulped, and took a deep breath. He slowly lifted his head fully, to be face to face with you.

„I guess... I never thought about how it affects you. It was so easy following what you say, letting you decide on every crossroad. And it was so easy... Blaming you, if something went south. We... I should’ve stopped to think about you. And how you feel.”

Tears started forming again. He took another shaky breath, and tried to quickly blink them away.

„I always took you for granted. A strong leader, who is always there. And not just there...”

He looked down. You saw a single teardrop sneaking over his cheek. You never saw him this vulnerable before.

„I took you granted in a more... personal way too. Now that I saw myself through your eyes, I understand. Gods, I was such an asshole with you.”

He paused for a moment, as if searching for words. He opened his mouth, but closed it back soon. You sat in silence for a bit. You didn’t mind.

For the first time, you felt seen.

„I was scared of my own feelings” Astarion said suddenly. You sligthly raised your eyebrows, suggesting suprise. His own feelings?

„Yes. The ones I have for you.”

Your stomach filled up with butterflies. Did you hear that correctly? You couldn’t do anything, but blink at him.

„Whenever I realized just how much I care about you, I pushed you away. In my past, caring about someone meant you had another exploitable weak spot. Someone they could hurt to hurt you. And I didn’t want anyone to hurt you. So I pushed you away, since if I’m cold towards you, noone will think anything of you.”

He chuckled a little.

„But I could never keep it up for long. Because I missed you, Gods I missed you so much, even when you were right beside me, covering my back in a battle, sleeping just a few tents away. And yet, I kept missing you so much, it hurt. And now that I see, just how much it hurt you, I regret it so, incredibly much. We could have had sweet stolen moments together, if only I was less stubborn, and looked out for you a little more.”

Astarion looked utterly defeated and sad. You felt the truth in his words, and it was something you only ever dreamed of. You raised your hand to caress his cheek. He gave you one of those vampire smiles that made your knees weak.

He lifted both his hands, and held your face just under your ears. He pulled you closer to himself, and out your foreheads together. It was a very intimate moment.

„I think I fell in love with you” he whispered so silently, you barely heard it. But you did. And it gave your voice back.

„I fell in love with you, too” you said, giving him the first real smile since you were here.

He slowly leaned closer to you. You closed your eyes, and got lost in the moment.

And then... He kissed you.

#astarion bg3 #astarion x you #astarion fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion ancunin #hurt/comfort #kiss #astarion x tav

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hazbinhazmeinachokehold · 2 months

Text

The hotel gang + overlord!reader part 2

Part one here

!Not beta read!

While it may just be the stress talking, the bed was surprisingly comfortable, for a hotel at least. Today was a lot. Even if this hotel seemed to be a net positive it was still a lot. So the comfortable bed made it seem like you already made it to heaven. As you sank into the bed you drifted off to sleep.

You awoke to a few loud and powerful knocks on your door. "Hello? If you're awake we are going to do some trust exercises!" Charlie called out. You unintentionally groaned as you got up.

"Give me a minute!" You replied.

"Okay." Charlie said as she left. When you got up you looked at yourself in the mirror. You weren't a mess by any means but you've definitely looked better. You freshen yourself up slightly before going downstairs.

The Hotel residents and staff were all in a circle. You sat down in one of the gaps in the circle. Charlie cleared her throat.

"Okay everybody let's go around in a circle and say our names first! I'm Charlie." She paused, "As you all know." Everyone else proceeded to say their name, which you already knew everyone's name. Excluding the short one-eyed girl, Niffty, and the girl with an x over one of her eyes, Vaggie. Then your turn came.

"Uh- Hi! My name is y/n" You cringed at the nervousness in your voice.

"Now I want everyone to tell a fact about themself. It doesn't have to be anything huge, just something to get to know each other." Charlie said, "I love musicals!" Yeah, that was pretty easy to guess.

Angel was next up. "I love sitting on big, HUGE-"

"Angel I fucking swear." Husk cut him off.

"Comfortable chairs! What were you thinking?" Angel had a smug smile plastered on his face. "Also cocks as well." He added. Husk and Vaggie groaned.

Niffty went next, but Charlie spoke before her, "Please try not to scare away our newest member." She pleaded. Niffty pouted but compiled anyway.

"I love writing fanfiction! Escapily with bad boys." Her tone turned slightly seductive at the end. You elected to ignore that.

There was a silence as everyone waited for Vaggie. Charlie stretched her palm out to tell her to talk. "Oh- yeah right sorry." She shook her head slightly, "I like to dance."

"Really!? How come I never knew that?" Charlie asked.

"It never came up." Vaggie smiled faintly

"I'm the bartender," Husk grumbled. Vaggie elbowed him. "What? I told a fact about myself."

Alastor let out an "ahem" noise. The focus shifted to him. "While this is a fact in general, I believe that radio is the utmost form of medium." As baseline as this was for a guy such as Alastor, you also kind of expected it. Alastor would not let anything deeper about himself slip. So why not go for the most well-known part of yourself. "Now, y/n, darling I do believe it is your turn."

Oh shit right. You've just met these people so don't go with anything personal. Also, make sure it doesn't make anyone uncomfortable. “I really don’t like being an overlord.” Your mouth moved before you could comprehend what you were saying. Well fuck. If this was a TV show you’d clearly be the comic relief, at least right now. Everyone but Alastor and Niffty had some form of uncomfortable plastered on their face. Alastor however had a curious yet sinister smile on his face. Niffty wasn’t really paying attention to you, she was chasing some random cockroach.

You wanted to go back on that statement but something was saving you from embarrassing yourself further. Do demons have guardian angels? If so, yours was working overtime right now. But they also weren’t getting much work done.

Your real savior was whoever blew the fucking wall up. Everyone's head was quickly aimed at the now missing wall. While Husk just accepted it everyone else, including yourself, to find the source. Like you were in some sort of horror movie character getting ready to be stabbed. But you instead met with a huge mechanical blimp that had an impractical amount of guns.

“There you are!” The person in the blimp called out. It was very hard to hear but it was just loud enough. “Alastor, are you ready to be beat-”

“Who is this?’

“Who- Who am I!?” The voice was very clearly offended at Alastor's lack of knowledge. You just drowned the rest out. Alastor was cruel and frankly heartless. But he also did not like wasting time. So even while this poor sinner's fate was sealed, thankfully it wouldn’t be as drawn out as his past victims. You turned around to hopefully save any shred of innocence you were able to save. As you entered through the wall you could hear both Alastor and his victim speak.

“Thank you for another forgetful experience!” Alastor said. You didn’t necessarily

want to look but you did so anyway. Kind of like watching a car crash.

“Thank you…” the snake struggled to get out, “ For letting your guard down!” He ripped part of Alastors coat off. Well, that's not good, for anyone really. Alastor’s coat got torn and this sinner is about to die again. Or at the very least get seriously injured. You’re honestly surprised he lasted this long. He was notably weaker than The Radio Demon’s usual opponents.

He, quite appropriately, said “Oh shit-” Before an explosion (you can only guess caused by Alastor) caused him to fly away. Welp, he’s gone forever now. The hotel seemed nice for the most part. It honestly still does. You just wish you weren’t staying in the same house as The Radio Demon. But now that you think about it, almost everyone here seems to have something severely wrong with them. And that includes you too. So at least you fit in.

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #charlie x reader #angel dust x reader #vaggie x reader #niffty x reader #husk x reader

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flnpushy · 8 months

Text

A tricky Pushing

It happened so fast. An internet hookup. He wasn’t even who he said he was. The guy was a complete jerk. I fell for his charm, but deep down I knew he was no good. Why did I let him do it? Why didn’t I just walk away…. He was aggressive with me, almost abusive in the back of his truck. Before I could do anything he had me naked…. After the one night stand he ditched me, never to have contact again, I tried to tell him but he ran, there was no getting him back. So now here I am, 9 months later. With his baby in my belly.

I awoke from this crazy dream. This dream I've had for 9 months now. Hoping this time when I woke up, it wasn’t true. However when my eyes came open, there it was, a big belly hanging from my tiny frame. Ugh… I just want this to be over. Get back to the fun, outgoing, 18 year old girl I was. But this baby had to come out first. I went to all my appointments, and found that of course he had to put a huge baby boy in me. A first time 18 year old mom to be with an 11 pound baby in my belly. I’m so small I thought, I’ve only had sex once, how the hell am I going to push an 11 pound baby out of my tiny pussy? I guess I was about to find out.

After getting pregnant I vanished from people. I didn’t see my friends, my family, or even go outside of my house, except to the doctors. I just wanted to push this baby out and be done. I knew nothing about birth or pregnancy, the doctors said I should seek help to birth or even hire a midwife. I wanted nothing to do with this. It was too embarrassing and I had too much anger to cope with an assisted birth or midwife. I would just do this myself. I tried to end the pregnancy by pushing, reaching inside me and messing with things, hoping to break the water or something. But it was no use. The baby was inside me, and i had no choice but to let it grow….. So much anger, If only I could find that guy and take revenge…..

As I arose for another day of being pregnant alone, It hit me, A hard pain in my gut. I knew it was going to be happening. Finally i thought, I can get this baby out of me. Just push it out nice and fast, and be done.

These pains became more regular. A Couple hours passed. I curled up in a blanket to watch Tv and ride the pains. All i wanted to do was just push, but I knew there was no way the baby was going to just drop out of me. There had to be a dilation thing… right? I truly didn’t know. I stood up from my couch and pulled off my pants, shirt, and panties, exposing my lovely little body. I rubbed my painful belly a couple times and pushed like i needed to poop. This is how you do this? I think….

I pushed a few times, I quickly grew impatient. I carried his baby around for 9 months and now its going to be hard to push out! Seriously! I just wanted this to be done. I stuck my fingers up inside me. I reached way in as far as I could fit my fingers. I felt something bulging. Not sure what it was though. I decided to lay back down on the couch.

Time passed, the pains got worse. It was afternoon, then evening. Was I even going to have the baby today? How long does this labor thing last? Evening turned into night. I went to bed in pain. Awaking every 15 minutes to searing pains in my belly. Now i was really angry.

The next morning came. I had been feeling pains for 24 hours now. But things felt different. The burning and stinging deep inside me was gone. Now The burning was inside my vagina. I awoke and immediately inserted my fingers. I pushed in a ways and bumped something. Its was membranous, squishy, and warm. I pushed in a bit more and felt something hard. Was this the babies head? Suddenly i felt a large gush, my hand was soaked and so was the bed below my body. What the hell was that?! Now the pains got worse… Have I done something bad? I thought to myself? I didn’t care. I walked painfully out to the couch and sat down. I was naked and it felt good, But my body didn’t, My vagina area was really starting to hurt.

“THATS IT!!” I said aloud, “THIS BABY NEEDS TO COME OUT!”

I thought of him again. All this pain for his little bit of pleasure…. UGH!

I then felt like i needed to poop, and badly. I headed to the toilet and sat down. I pushed a few times and quickly realized it wasn’t poop, it was time for me to push the baby out. I made a couple grunts on the toilet before returning to the couch. My body began forcing me to push, it wasn’t very painful yet, and it felt good to push. Each pain made my belly tense up. I put my finger back in my pussy and pushed. I could feel something hard pressing against my finger about 2 inches inside. It must have been the babies head, but i wasn’t sure. When i stopped pushing it receded back a bit. This heightened my frustrations. I stood up, spread my legs wide and pushed hard. I did this for about 15 minutes until i could feel my pussy bulging . I reached down again and felt inside, just within my opening was a head, i could feel a tiny tuft of hair. I knew i was getting close now. Getting closer to being normal again, with no baby in me. Little did I know the battle was just beginning.

I continued pushing standing up for about 20 minutes, growing ever more frustrated that the baby hadn’t come out already. Is this baby stuck in me? I couldn’t help it, i reached down and felt inside me again.

“SERIOUSLY!” I said out loud.

The baby had hardly done anything, not even a centimeter of movement. It had to be stuck. It had to…. But I didn’t know what to do about this. I wasn’t going to seek help… no never. All i wanted was the baby out. I sat back on the couch and pulled my legs up as far as i could, my big belly protruding out hugely in front of me. I pushed a couple times as a bead of sweat ran down my face.

“UGH!! COME OUT!” I yelled.

I realized that I could not see what i was actually doing. My belly was much to big for me to actually see my vagina. I got up and found my big mirror from my bedroom. I took it from the room and balanced it up against my coffee table about 2 feet from the couch. Now i could actually see my vagina. I went to push again. But caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror….. I took a hard look at my huge belly and by puffy pussy below it. I thought of him…. I couldn’t truly believe what his seed had done to me. I was angered once again. I pulled back on my legs and began pushing once more. I continued watching the mirror as i went. After about 20 minutes a tiny slit opened a bit in my pussy, I reached down and pulled my labia open, i could see the head now. As soon as my push ended the head disappeared from sight….

What the hell i thought… Its back inside! I had to think about it, i had held a newborn baby when i was younger that my cousin had gave birth to a couple weeks prior. I remember the size of the head. I looked at my pussy and realized….. How on earth is that going to fit….

Didn’t matter…. I needed this baby out!

I pushed hard again. This time the head could be seen with out opening myself up. I pushed hard an held it. The little head stayed there, until i stopped pushing…. Then it slid in.

“Ugh!!” I said aloud.

I tried again, once more holding the push, seeing the little head, and then watching it slide back in. Was this how it was supposed to be? Or was the baby already stuck?

“Get outta there!” I said aloud.

I pushed again and reached down to feel the little head. How could i see it, touch it, but no matter how hard i push it won’t come out?

It was starting to feel like pushing wasn’t effective. But i kept going.

I squatted down holding the couch behind me. I could still see below my belly with the help of the mirror.

“Mmmmm aaaaaaaa.” I pushed. I could see his little head again.

“aaaaaa hhhhh.” Another push. More of the head.

‘Come on little man…mmmmMMMmmmm.” A bit more head, about the size of a silver dollar was showing now. The contraction ended. Almost like a vacuum the babies little head slipped back inside me. I slid back from my squat and sat on the couch. I closed my legs and relaxed, sealing the baby back in my belly. I relaxed for a few minutes and regained my composure to try again. I squatted back down and began pushing. Nothing with the first contraction, not even a sliver of the head. The next contraction revealed a sliver of the babies head, before retracting back inside me again. One more push with the contraction revealed a bit more head, but not much before disappearing again. I became frustrated. Thinking about his baby stuck in my belly. He had it so easy… Now i have to push….

After another hour of making no progress i decided to walk around and push. Maybe moving around would trigger something to happen, or make more room for that little head to squeeze outta there. I grabbed a little mirror from the bathroom that I could carry, this way when i pushed i could see what was happening. I walked around the room, pacing through contractions. When a contraction hit me i squatted and pushed. I did this for awhile, Walking then, squatting to push, only to continue to see the baby slide back in each time. I continued this for a half hour. Finally i ended up back at the couch, full squat, and pushing more again. I began wiggling my hips as i pushed. Trying anything i could think of to make progress. It just wasn’t coming out. Now i was mad.

I leaned back and pushed with all my strength, i reached down with my hands over my big belly and pulled back on my pussy lips. I tried getting my fingers in and around the babies head as if to attempt to pull it out. But it was no use, the head was to slippery to get a grip on. I was upset and exhausted.

Minutes went by, my body started basically pushing on its own. I had no choice now, there was a baby in me and my body was doing everything it could to push it out. All could do was work with my body and hope the baby came out. About 30 minutes of this passed, finally my pussy was opening farther and farther, slowly letting the baby come forth. Each push shoved the head farther into the opening and attempted to stretch my tight opening. Soon the head was starting to poke out a little bit, but my tight pussy lips continued to grip the babies head relentlessly. The head was now getting ever closer to crown, but still only the size of a silver dollar was really showing in my opening. I needed assistance to get this head to come farther. Maybe how the baby went in could help get it out I thought. I began rubbing myself and playing.

15 minutes passed and i couldn’t hold any longer. I orgasmed. The pressure was crazy as the orgasm contractions slid the baby down a bit more. the head was now pressed so tightly in my opening, it felt like i was going to rip open. The head was now so much bigger in my pussy opening. I pushed a few times but no progress was made. I was getting so close to the forehead of the baby coming through. It was so close, but yet the baby could still slip back in. I was scared to have to go through this again, so i constantly squeezed my muscles to prevent the baby from sliding back. I couldn’t bare the frustration of the baby going back in me now. It was so close to coming out.

“Come on baby, get your head out!” I yelled pushing as hard as i could.

This was the case for 45 minutes. Pushing with all my strength, making absolutely zero progress. I was pushing, my body was pushing, But with everything i had the little baby refused to move.

“COME ON BABY!” I yelled.

I began wiggling my hips side to side and bouncing up and down. Doing anything in my bodies power to release the baby. It was stuck firm. I got up and walked around. the head didn’t move from its position making walking just about impossible. I pushed as i walked hoping for the baby to just fall out of me. But gravity was no help either. I went back to the couch and began to sit down. Thats when i screwed up…..

As is sat down I closed my legs slightly. I felt it…. The slip…. The babies head began retracting back inside.

“NO NO NO NO!!” I yelped. “AHHHHH!” It was painful as the baby retracted. I watched in the mirror, pushing as hard as i could to stop it. But there was no stopping my body. I watched as the head got smaller and slowly disappeared back inside me. I saw in the mirror as my pussy closed up, sealing the baby back in my belly. I literally was flabbergasted. 6 hours of pushing and i still end up pregnant! I took a break.

30 mins went by. Finally i built up the courage and strength to go at it again. I pushed and things went faster this time. One push had the head in view. The next had the baby back where it was. Finally i made one more big push and i was at crown. Now it was time….. For the ultimate push.

I dug my hands into a pillow, gritted my teeth, curled my little toes and push with every ounce of muscle mass that my body had. In one huge movement the head popped free. The baby began to rotate. The new push had the shoulders. Finally one last push freed the baby from the tight clenches of my 18 year old womb. I was done.

#birth #birth kink #giving birth #pregnant #crowning #pregnancy #breech #birth denial #birth story #stuck baby

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coriolantha · 2 months

Text

‧˚₊•୨ Patience ୧•‧₊˚⊹

mike schmidt x GN! reader

summary: mike comforts you after you've had a long day₊˚⊹:˚｡⋆୨୧˚

tags: fluff, mike being a sweetheart (as always), anxiety, reader has bad self image, insecurities, reader is overwhelmed and needs a break (so real), hugging, cuddling, comfort

wc: 1.1k

notes: hii this is my first fic i've posted on here. ngl i'm... scared. im not proud of this but i can't scrap it this time otherwise i'm never gonna get anything posted LMAO. please leave any criticism in the comments if you'd like, feel free to share any opinions, i want to improve the quality of my writing! thank you sm for reading! 🫶

today has been punishing.

rain trickled down the foggy window, making soft tapping sounds as they hit and fell, reluctantly racing down to gather in the weep holes. the rough, scratchy carpet beneath you beginning to burn as you shuffled around your desolate home.

exhausted, you gave up trying to distract yourself from your main task; your bedroom.

your eyes darted around your cluttered room, glossing over as you noticed every individual piece of clothing that wasn't hung up, organized, and neatly put away. you began to have a headache thinking about where to even begin. you felt like a filthy slob, your surroundings perfectly reflecting how you've felt all day.

you flicked the lights off, the warmly lit room now becoming pitch black, except for the small gleam of light that came through the open door. you sat on your bed, absentmindedly kicking your various pants and t-shirts away from you to give yourself some room to lay down.

mike wouldn't be back home for a while now. it was only 12:45am, which gave you 5 hours and 25 minutes to attempt to sleep before having to get ready for your office job... which would leave little to no time to spend with mike.

fuck mondays.

turning over to your side, you hugged your knees, shivering. no amount of blankets could fix how cold you felt. the truth was, you missed your boyfriend; longing for his cozy hugs and soft, gentle kisses he'd press against your cheek as he consoled you.

you missed him more than anything in the world.

with a blink, the tears that have been collecting in your eyes came down your flushed face at once. laying there, you accepted your pitiful reality, slowly drifting off into unwanted slumber, in solitude.

the time was around 2am when you felt a dip into the bed. panicking, you quickly awoke, shuffling to sit up as fast as possible. although you didn't know of the time, something felt off. mike wasn't supposed to be home yet, that's for sure.

panic turned into confusion as you heard mike, obviously feeling guilty for having jumpscaring you so badly.

"oh, shit- baby, it's me," he whispered apologetically, reaching his hand out to cup your cheek. turning on the dim lamp, he quickly turned back to face you. his eyes bore into yours, scanning to make sure you were going to be alright.

all day he was desperate to see your face, even after his shorter-than-usual-shift. mike couldn't get enough of your perfection, although you always brushed him off whenever he ever mentioned this to you.

he noticed your terrified expression which started to wear off, beginning to blend into relief.

"it's just me... you don't need to worry about anything, okay? i'm right here, no one's gonna hurt you," he muttered, leaning over to press a chaste kiss on your lips, lingering longer than usual.

weight lifted off your shoulders as you began to put pieces together. now, all you needed was an answer to your burning question.

"mike, why did you come home so early? did something happen?" you asked anxiously, looking right back at your boyfriends affectionate, adoring eyes.

"oh, sweetheart..." he soothed, "i got let out early today. nothing worth worrying about. i guess they didn't need me as much as i thought they did," he let out a quick, dry laugh, shaking his head dismissively.

"fuck, i've missed you all day, i'm so damn glad i could leave that job early. anything to see you, my love," he cooed, brushing a strand of hair out of your face, delicately tucking it behind your ear

you were in awe; it was a miracle he came home early, especially today. you were fighting to hold your tears back, mouth quivering as you bit your bottom lip. mike noticed your change in emotion immediately.

"hey hey hey," he whispered urgently, quickly grabbing your hand and giving it a light squeeze, "what's wrong?" his voice drowned in concern.

"i did nothing all day. the only thing i've done is just stand around and... thought of doing something, but i couldn't. i was so tired, but of what? like, why didn't i clean our room? and the worst part is, you have to come home, tired as hell, ready to go to sleep, only to see your messy room and your partner who still hasn't done anything about it," you quavered, sniffling softly as warm tears fell from your eyes.

mike said nothing, but you could sense how hurt he felt after you talked so badly about yourself. he sighed, laying down on the plush mattress. he patted his chest, inviting you to rest your head there. you did so immediately, closing your eyes as you listened closely to his heart beat.

"you know i love you, right?" he asked gently. you stayed quiet, knowing he wasn't expecting an answer.

"i love everything about about you. but the only thing i don't love is how badly you talk of yourself. i hate it. it doesn't make any sense to me," he stressed, stroking your hair soothingly.

"so what if our room is messy? i don't think about that when i come home. all i think about is how i can finally be with you. i'm not going to let some clothes on the floor get in the way of us, ever. or anything, in fact."

you nodded in agreement silently, your tears dry on your cheeks.

"we can tackle this room together. we can do this however you want- i can pick up your clothes while you organize them into whichever area they go to, and i'll pick up my clothes too, but you won't have to organize that, i'll take care of it. how does that sound?" he asked delicately.

you instantly felt a huge weight lift off your shoulders.

"thank you so much, mike. you don't know how much i needed you today," you exhaled, "really."

he looked down lovingly at you, curled up beside him. he kissed your head tenderly, rubbing up and down your back.

goosebumps spread across your arms. you felt so loved and safe.

"the real question is," you suddenly asked, "how are you so perfect? were you made in a factory or something?"

"says you," he laughed, holding you tighter.

the two of you basked in the love you had for one another for a while. no words were exchanged, only him occasionally rubbing his thumb against your arm, while you began to doze off, which caught his attention.

"want me to turn the light off?"

you nodded, wrapping your arm around his stomach.

he turned over once more, pulling the cord of the lamp light, the room now pitch black.

"i love you," he whispered, turning to his side a little more so he could be pressed closer against you.

"i love you too, mike. always," you mumbled back, the two of you drifting off to sleep.

₊˚⊹:˚｡⋆₊୨୧₊˚⊹:˚｡⋆₊

dividers by @f-loqweres 🫶

#josh hutcherson #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x gn!reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader fluff #fluff #mike schmidt x gn!reader fluff #comfort fanfic #comfort fluff #comfort #lovers #self love #jhutch #fanfiction #fanfic

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solarrclxud · 3 months

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HAPPY VALENTINES

pairing : multi x reader (wriothesley , neuvillette , childe , ,xiao )

genre: fluff

warnings : not proofread , the use of " my love"

a/n: well guess who just got revived from the dead ! (its me hello) ALSO ill be getting to my inbox soon! thank you for the requests while i was gone !

Wriothesley watched you dust a shelf that held his extravagant and excessive tea collection . You were muttering something about how he really needed to clean more often when he shifted his head off of his palm to grin . You squinted at him . " You're being suspicious" you prodded him. He shook his head and looked down to the work he was supposed to be doing as you resumed dusting , moving to the shelf below , only to see a tiny box behind the usual boxes of tea. With a slight frown you attempted to move it to the front . As you put it down , something rattled within and u heard wriothesley get up from his chair . " Finally, i thought you'd never find it" he laughed. You stared at him confused . He smiled and made his way over to you , opening the box in your hands to reveal a keychain . One you'd seen in the market a few days ago but hadn't bought.

" Happy valentines my love "

Xiao was deliberate with his gifts. They were frequent and personal. Thanks to him, you had an entire box tucked away in your cupboard , full to the brim with charms to ward off evil, flowers he had picked up and chunks of ore he had carved while u slept. Today when you awoke to a piece of jade used as a paperweight for a small note on your side table, it was not a new occurrence. The note was written in beautiful flourish and u smiled as you read it. A simple good morning and a wish for a good day. You didn't think much of it through the day as you went about the Harbor , couples exchanging simple affection was a usual for you to see at the cafe u ran but today it seemed more frequent. In the evening you walked back to the Inn , to find Xiao pacing on the balcony, slightly red faced. When you called to him , he jumped like a startled animal before he smiled a little, holding out what seemed to be a hair piece fashioned from the same kind of jade he had given to u in the morning.

"i have heard that mortals have this celebration of love. i thought it fit hat we must take part as we are...in love."

Childe was out on a business trip. His absence felt strangely heavy that day due to the presence of couples around liyue harbour. You had longed to see him for a week now but all you had was a letter from a few days after he had left , dating his return to the next month. It was one of his longer trips no doubt . As you got home that evening, you unlocked your home and was met with the sound of someone already there. You frowned , grabbing a knife from the kitchen as you etched towards the sound of...singing? Now that you thought about it the voice was familiar. You entered your bedroom to childe leaning over a bouquet of flowers strategically placed on the bed humming a tune in obvious excitement. You began to laugh, causing him to turn around to see you and inevitably join in.

"the job finished faster than planned, thanks to my expertise so i thought id suprise you ! happy valentines!"

Neuvillette was a doting lover, and contrary to his professional persona, at home he was nothing but a tired man. That morning you woke up to him for the first time in what felt like ages. You checked the clock, 10am, he was late. You uttered his name softly in an attempt to wake him up. He just hummed and nuzzled further into you, it was obvious he was awake by the soft smile on him face. " Neuvi you're late" . He shook his head and pulled you closer. His voice muffled as he said,

"I took a day off...i have a reservation at a restaurant but can we go back to bed for now my love?"

slaying with the comeback (school is murdering me)

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dxstopiaa · 1 year

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Serene Slumbers

Synopsis: Why dream alone when your whole world is beside you? Drabbles on how they sleep! \(^ヮ^)/

Characters: Zhongli, Xiao, Al Haitham and Cyno x Fem! Reader.

Warnings: Cyno’s jokes and Xiao’s past, otherwise just fluff and typical domestic romance with your husband! [I think my layouts look much nicer as of late. Enjoy loves! I’m open to suggestions and other drabbles <3]

[Now Playing: Dark Red- Steve Lacy]

Zhongli

- Of course, being of the seven archons, Zhongli had a rich, informative memory. If you were to play a guessing game on what exactly he didn’t know, you’d be as old as he was. Nobody’s traditional knowledge surpassed his.

- Hence why you were delighted whenever you would cuddle up against your dearest husband, enthusiastically nodding when he offered to tell you a tale of his own. He was just so sweet when he rambled on what he was passionate about.

- The former archon always made sure to have some sort of therapeutic tea and incense to soothe you both asleep afterwards, and don’t even hesitate asking him to play with your hair or massage your neck too.

“So, anything special happen today, dearest?” Zhongli’s question awoke you from your reverie, you currently laid on the opposite side of the bed, legs freely swinging in the air as you admired your lover.

It was moderately late, the chatting of people outside had reduced significantly, whilst the coos of nocturnal birds could be heard faintly. All that remained was the comfortable silence and muffled miscellaneous sounds.

“Not much…Is this your way of drawing my attention back to you?” You quizzed, a grin tugging on the corners of your lips, with Zhongli returning a curt hum of approval. Being truthful, your quietness had surprised him a little. Usually, you’d be talking more.

Novelty cups of brewed drinks set on a tray invited the tea enthusiast to sip some, an action he could perform before he could decide on what to do. You merely looked up at him.

“How does a story sound, my love?” Zhongli offered, placing the fine porcelain onto the vacant plate. He removed his gloves and tailcoat, unbuttoning and rolling the sleeves of his magnolia shirt up, to make himself comfortable.

A common practice of his, soothing you into a deep slumber with his silky, baritone voice. But you seemed to be more focused on something else, or rather something else about him. So distracted you couldn’t seem to register his question.

Those gorgeous golden veins running over his visible chest and biceps, or the geo insignias on his palms and back. The same hue as those aureate irises which would deliver such ardent gazes. To be honest with yourself, the very same thought you entranced yourself with earlier that night.

“Oh, sorry, sure!” You sheepishly replied, averting your glance and moving to sit beside him. Being as observant as he is, Zhongli found your behaviour was unusual. Slender fingers grasped your chin, pulling your face closer to his own as he momentarily observed the pink tint to it.

“Something distracting you, sweetheart?” And then, you could of sworn your cheeks currently resembled the colour of a rose. Just the way he gently swayed you into him more, gripping your waist with the other hand.

“It’s just-” You were interrupted with his lips capturing yours, easily rendering you wordless. Your husband already knew why, no need to explain when you melting against him already spoke louder than your stammering words. He pulled away.

“Does my identity as Morax still captivate you that much, love?”

Xiao

- At first, Xiao was extremely cautious, he was frightened of harming you with his karmic debt if you got too close, for too long. It would begin with a simple hand resting above your head. But after a tedious amount of reassurance, he deemed placing a hand around your abdomen wouldn’t hurt.

- Your husband insisted that sleep wasn’t something he needed, though you caught him dozing off. He just looked so gorgeous when resting with you, those piercing iris reduced to calm, closed eyes.

- Night terrors were not new nor rare to him— frequently he’d wake up, ghosts of tears which were long ago wiped away with your gentle touch. You understood all he’d been through as the last Yaksha, you longed to do nothing but comfort him. Weak was the last thing you saw him as.

Those hideous, sinister memories clouded his mind. His friends— family, being torn and ripped apart, their souls in agony. It felt harder to breathe, Xiao could feel his throat closing up, jolting upright to wake himself from that graphic nightmare. Tears of fury and desolation welled up in his eyes, his ungloved hands coming to tug at his hair. It was all too much.

Feeble, he thought of himself, unable to accept and move on from the emptiness in his heart, if humans could do it why couldn’t he? Your lover’s breathing became irregular, now entering a state of self-induced hysteria and panic. Now he was definitely crying, that cynical shell torn to shreds.

The sound of sniffling alerted you, immediately looking to your side to see your husband sat up, discreetly suffering again. Your heart clenched at the sound, you longed for him to be free from his undeserved karma. You quickly flicked the bedside lamp on, handing a glass of water to Xiao.

No matter how much he tried to avoid you looking at him, it didn’t work. You lovingly fondled his face, stroking the remnants of his tears away. He simply slouched, fixing his eyes onto the bedsheets he desperately clutched in his hands.

“Dear? Was it the night terrors again?” You sympathetically whispered, pushing back the tresses of turquoise which concealed his face from you. He merely nodded, opting to stay quiet. No matter how long it would take, you would sit beside him until he felt better.

And he loved you for it. You made him feel more safe than he had felt in eons, always there to listen and care for him. You were so unselfish and forgiving, like no other mortal he’d ever met. That’s what made you special, made you his first love.

His breathing eventually stabilised, head no longer pulsating from the migraine, his vision had returned to normal too. Xiao turned to face you, an unreadable expression. His calloused hands tucked you into the covers, placing his hand on your forehead as if you were sick.

It was adorable to say the least, he obviously wanted to reciprocate your gesture. Xiao soon laid down too, a comfortable silence enveloped you both. You hummed to yourself, thinking of something to lull him to sleep.

“How does some almond tofu sound? Not the healthiest, but it’ll help you relax.” You offered, not missing the slight glimmer in his eyes. With no further response, you assumed that was a yes, briefly exiting the room to bring a refrigerated container of the sweet meal.

That night, the fog which was ever-present in Xiao’s mind cleared, forgetting his troubles as you fed him the delicacy and recalled stories and events of that day. Oh, how lucky he was to have you.

“…Thank you, dear.”

Al Haitham

- As expected, a light sleeper. It doesn’t matter how exhausted he gets, even the simplest of sounds will wake him immediately. Not the best when you try arrange some sort of surprise for him.

- Despite this, Al Haitham is by no means a morning person. He despises having to wake up for his duties which were practically forced upon him as the Acting Grand Sage. He’d much rather prefer staying with you.

- He absolutely adores it when you cling onto him, forcing his hesitant self into your warm embrace, tracing lines with your finger over his chiseled abdomen, or the peculiar emerald implanted on his chest.

Distant chirping of coupled birds nesting, or the streams of light peering through the gaps of the curtains, the curt gentle breathing of your beloved beside you— all signs that morning had arrived some time ago. These sounds you often overlooked, too consumed in your own duties to value the nature surrounding you.

Your eyes averted themselves to your waist, restricted in a grasp you struggled to pry yourself from. As comforting as it was, your schedule was quite packed today. No lie-ins you told yourself. But that was difficult to execute.

Al Haitham’s fingers were intertwined with yours, his face nestled into your neck, feeling steady rising of his chest. He just looked so peaceful— without that signature frown and undecipherable look in his eyes, rather with a slight smile. You’d hate to awaken him, maybe you could make breakfast before he wakes up?

Gradually, you shifted his arms onto the blanket you once slept on, wriggling out of his hold. Now sitting upright, you brushed through your hair with your fingers, dissipating whatever knots were there prior. Your attempts to sneakily get away were halted, the quiet, raspy voice of your husband audible.

“Where are you going?” Al Haitham muttered, emerald eyes cracked open obscurely through his lashes. Your breath hitched, looking over at him once more. You caressed his platinum hair, determining whether you should tell him or not.

“Haitham…I was going to make coffee for us, it’s getting late now, we’ve got to head to the Akademiya soon.” You sighed, feeling him deflate slightly at your words. Yes, you’d love to stay in his exclusive company for longer, but there were priorities.

“Doesn’t matter, just don’t go…please.” Your husband whispered, the plead quieter than the rest of his sentence. Your mind was a mess, how could you deny such a heartfelt request? Persuade him more perhaps?

“I’d love to, but you’re forgetting who you are, Mr. Grand Sage.” You replied, resting your head on the oak bed frame. This time, he grumbled a bit, glancing up at you tiredly.

“Acting, I’m not taking up something i didn’t sign up for, darling.” Al Haitham corrected, watching you slump further into the bedsheets beside him. It was quite easy for him to get you to listen to him— you loved him too much, just as he adores you.

“You’re so-” You tried to fire back, but you were too late, he reached up to kiss you gently on the cheek, pulling your waist towards him to coerce you beside him. You were in the same position as you were just ten minutes ago.

“Insufferable? Yeah, I know, just come here.”

Cyno

- Contrary to popular belief, the alert general is actually quite a deep sleeper, whether that’s a good thing or not, it depends. Sure, you were able to get ready before him, but it was almost impossible to wake him up verbally.

- Cyno, much to your annoyance, snores a lot. Though that was better than if he was to sleep talk. You could already imagine the migraine you would of had from his tragic puns.

- Your otherwise stoic husband prefers to sleep with you in his arms, safe and protected with him. It didn’t matter much if you were snuggled up against him, head on his toned chest, or if you were simply facing his direction, a hand lazily slung over your waist.

- He doesn’t like to sleep when wearing tight clothing, for he finds it constricting and rather irritating. Cyno would often have some loose shirt on, other times nothing on at all— of course he wears underwear. Can’t have you thirsting over him when he’s trying to sleep.

The miniature clock on the wall of your bedroom— a keepsake from your own home, currently displayed five in the morning. So close to your alarm going off, but you haven’t even had a full half-hour of sleep. All because of your noisy lover’s snoring.

It was difficult to tell if you were even conscious from the deprivation of precious rest. Cyno laid on his back, his angelic, ivory hair strewn across his forehead severely contrasted the demonic snorts he emitted. The urge to grab his shoulders and shake him awake was overwhelming.

“Cyno.” You meekly uttered, prodding his cheek lightly. He didn’t retaliate, simply unreactive from the deep slumber. Archons, another issue to deal with. You frowned, glancing yet again at him as you waited for what seemed like an eternity— no longer than a minute really.

“Love!” You audibly exclaimed this time, efforts in vain as he just turned over to his side, swatting away the idea of letting you sleep peacefully. You groaned, massaging your temples in frustration. Guess there’s only one last resort now. With the best tone you could muster, you imitated a masculine voice.

“General Mahamatra!” You bellowed, pinching his arm as he almost fell off the bed, yelping in surprise. It took your husband a while to realise what was happening, groaning when he looked at your irritated face. He let out a displeased grumble, blankly waiting for what you had to say to him, but it never came.

“Yes dear, what’s the issue?” Cyno groggily huffed, although the glower on your face was quite adorable, despite how you tried to seem angry with him. You crossed your arms over your chest, an exasperated sigh left your lips.

“Please! I can’t sleep with your snoring, It’s almost as bad as your jokes!” You implored, hugging the plushie he had gifted you prior, which now lived full-time on your bed. At that, he snickered, stomach rising and falling in laughter to mask that prodding offence at your comment.

“You could say i’m snore-ing you to sleep.” Cyno cackled, usually your heart would start fluttering at the sound of his amusement, but now you felt your eyes twitch. “You know, boring…snoring—” He cleared his throat, as if you’d want to hear any more.

“Cyno! No more!” You shrieked, moving to sit on top of him as you repeatedly hit him with the pillow, his uncharacteristic giggles sounding through the room. His protests fell on deaf ears, all thanks to the quite aggressive action of yours. Luckily, that little flush on his face wasn’t visible in the night.

You soon collapsed onto him, face buried into the crook of his neck. Cyno felt a little apologetic, smoothing his hands over your messy hair. Finally, peace at last.

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 10 months

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Cinderella | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

You awoke to the kneading of a suited cat against your chest. Slow to wake you let your head fall back into the plush of your bed only to be called by a peeved meow.

“I know. I know Luci. I’m coming.”

Not even bothering to change out of your pajamas you slipped into your cat-themed slippers and followed behind the cat bee-lining it to his feeding tray. You took out the pre-plated meal as quickly as possible and heated it. Lifting yourself off the ground onto the adjacent counter you saved yourself from the anxious pawing that Lucius was doing on the floor parallel to the activated microwave. Hearing a familiar tune play you opened the mini door to promptly bring the feisty cat his meal. You sighed, satisfied as you heard the wet and determined sounds of a feeding house cat.

Looking out from the kitchen and foyer you spied the moving shadow under the door of the study. You skipped across the threshold being sure to quiet yourself to tiptoe as you creaked the door open. Within the crack, you watched your stepfather move across the bookshelves, eventually turning so that his back was to the door. Fighting giggles you let yourself be careful of where you stepped to avoid the creaking floorboards, doing your best to creep up on the old man.

“Good morning to you as well (Y/n).”

You sucked your teeth, sitting on one of the many plush armchairs.

“Awww man I thought I caught you good!”

The old man let a ghost of a smile on his face as he made his final selections.

“What did I say about talking like that? At this rate, you will say whatever comes to mind.”

“You already know I do, old dude!”

He turned with a shake of his head carrying the stack he’d made out of the room; you followed suit. Up the stairs and down the hall past the doors of the ones who still had yet to wake. Past the bathroom, the powder room, and into the music room. It was a big room with only two instruments in the corner, two stools, and a flimsy podium to match. He said it was for better acoustics but you guessed he just wanted a room without the clutter that seemed to follow those two.

Setting his books down on a faraway coffee table, he only bought one over to the podium. Adjusting it until he deemed it perfect he stopped to see his dear cat enter the room. Scooping him up, he walked over to your leaning form against the door.

“Thank you for feeding Lucius. I’ve been diving…into some old texts. You know how I get so distracted with that.”

“It’s fine. I know you struggle with the microwave, anyway.” The snide comment has Mozus bristling with embarrassment.

“I don’t struggle with it…I’m just…learning as I go along.”

“Sure. Sure. But we know the truth, right Lucius?”

“Mreow!”

You laugh, hearing a hushed ‘traitor’ as you make your escape headed back to your room. You wonder if it is too soon to make a wish, that you’ll be back in bed before they wake.

“Oi oi Frog what are you doing up without waking me!?”

Too late. You traipse tiredly toward the redheaded misfit seeing that he’s dressed for the day and already sporting a mean face.

“Well sorry,” you dragged the word with a roll of your eyes. “Next time you want to wake up this early leave your cat door unlocked!”

“Eeegh!? And let the furball go through my stuff!? No way!”

“Then don’t come out whining then.”

“Hey don’t you tell me how to-”

“Good Morning you guys!”

With a yawn, in came Deuce with a kinder disposition than Ace. You gave him a ‘morning’ to which Ace only scoffed before letting his eyes land on you. Seeing as they were both up and dressed you guessed you’d deliver the news.

“Guess who’s having lessons today?”

“You?” Deuce tried.

“Ha no, flute and piano! Plus whatever’s in the ‘old texts’”

They groaned once again letting their eyes fall on you and staying there before you shooed them off. Letting them pass you, you watched as Deuce walked robotically down the hall followed by Ace who was slow to leave. With a smirk on his face, he turned to you.

“Feeling cold in just your jammies, huh?”

You squinted your face in confusion before a look down had you crossing your arms around your chest. You shot him a disgusted look as he skipped into the music room; another roll of your eyes and you retreated to the comfort of your room.

Dressed for the day you wandered back to the music room; peaking in on the instruction they needed. They were huddled around Mozus as he instructed movements with his pointer stick, you compared it to that of a wizard in a book of fiction. The looks on their faces were serious–a rare thing for the idiots that never grasped anything. You leaned in only to catch snippets of what they were saying.

“...protect them…whatever it…takes…”

“... even…?”

“Yup, I mean who wouldn’t?”

Before you could listen any further they quieted upon someone’s alert of your presence. The cat meowed loudly at you through the crack of the door; you shushed the cat as you let yourself in giving him the pets he probably wanted. It wouldn’t be odd if it weren’t for their immediate actions to look as if they were doing something else. Mozus and Ace played it easy either looking at a book or blowing a raspberry before writing something. Deuce was the dead giveaway; eyes widening and darting across the room as he flailed to read a book upside down.

“Sooo what’ya doin’?

“We’re about to begin a music lesson if you’d like to join us?”

Ace was at the piano cracking his knuckles and hands as if he were about to do manual labor. Deuce was turning red as he practiced harsh blowing techniques into the air before bringing the flute to his lips.

“No no! I’m good.” You frantically spoke. You’d been cursed to hear their harmonies before and you would not let yourself be tortured in such a way again. You began to back out of the room only for Mozus to call for you.

“(Y/n) if you’d be willing would you mind running some errands?”

“Sure!” You liked to go on errands, it was the only thing you were really allowed to do.

“Make sure to take Lucius with you!”

The cat was already meowing at you down the hallway going into your room. He had the right idea the moment they touched those instruments.

“Thanks again, Trey! You know how much Trein loves your bread.”

“Oh? Is he the only one?” Trey teased as he placed the wrapped loaves into your basket.

“Well…maybe…I’ll help myself to a few slices if there’s any left. Ace and Deuce are ravenous.”

Behind his frames, you could see his eyes glaze over in a disgruntled haze but as quickly as it came it left; letting a smile spread across his face.

“Then maybe I’ll give you an extra loaf. Just for you to enjoy.”

Lucius gave a pensive meow.

“Ah, I don’t know…I have other errands to run and I don’t have anything extra.”

“No worries, I’ll give you an extra for free… it's a…creme special…”

You tilted your head in thought genuinely trying to think of what wouldn’t leave you in a bad light.

“But I wouldn’t want you wasting product on something yer givin’ for free.”

“No worries it was going stale anyway, just wait here just a second.”

The baker disappeared behind into the kitchen; in the meantime, you rocked on your heels. Shushing the cat that seemed to get antsier by the second, making you internally plead that Trey hurries it up. As if to answer your call the baker emerged looking flushed but proud he handed you the clear-wrapped piping hot bread with a white glaze on it. Adding it to the other loaves of bread you dismissed yourself with an honest curtsy figuring it’d leave you less in debt to him.

“Thanks again, Trey! Though I doubt this was going stale!”

“Please it was on its way out! Have a good day, (Y/n)!”

“You too, man!”

You waved, walking out the door of the bakery straight to your car gingerly placing the bread basket and Lucius in the backseat. You made sure to give the needy kitty a rub before driving to your next destination: the tailor. Ace and Deuce had a nasty habit of somehow destroying everything they owned within a twenty-hour period; suits were no exception. So for your last errand of the day you were collecting an order of suits for them. With Trein’s name, you let the stuttery attendant disappear into the backroom before letting your eyes wander in wait.

“Ooh, that suit…”

Speaking to no one you eyed the mannequin sporting a character of a suit. Exaggerated points and a tail that gave it a regal feel; you imagined yourself fitting snugly in its place. You imagined a jealous scoff of Ace and the awe on Deuce’s face as you posed next to their plain, irresponsible suits. You smirked to yourself, nodding to the ceiling as you imagined the scene so vividly.

“You should get it.”

Your eyes snapped open to someone new, a boy with lilac hair and soft features. His short stature leaned against the counter as he stared in your direction. You straightened yourself out crossing your arms as you got a read on this dude’s emotion,

“Excuse me?”

“You like the suit, don’t you? And we both know you’d look good in it so just do it.”

Your eyes drifted longingly to the suit before darting back to the man or rather in his general direction.

“Hey?! What do you–mean by that?”

Before you could search for the mysterious complimenter, the attendant returned with two wrapped suits letting you carry out the transaction. You let your eyes roam the shop once more before asking the fidgeting attendant.

“Hey, who was with you today?”

“W-what?”

“T-the the little man, he was trying his best to sell that suit over there. Is he a new employee or–?”

“Uhm I’m the only one on staff today..did someone come into the shop?” She murmured as she looked to the distance in thought,” Maybe the bell rang and I didn’t notice?”

You shook your free hand in an attempt to calm her down, “It's fine it’s fine, I’m probably just hungry. Welp thank you and have a good day!”

You dismissed yourself going back to your air-conditioning car with Lucius sitting in the front seat as if waiting for you to return. Thanking the cat for not honking your horn, you draped the suits on the passenger seat; scooping up the cat you took the car out of park. Sending one last look towards the tailor before driving off.

For a good half of the ride, you kept going back to the strange fellow in the store. He did have a different kind of energy around him…it felt almost…sparkly? That aside you decided to forget about the whole encounter and instead focus on the road. Speaking of, your feline passenger was being especially quiet; a far cry from the usually vocal meowing as he tries to sit in your lap. Waiting until a stop light you let yourself look in the rearview mirror to spot Lucius pawing at the opening of the bread basket.

“Lucius, please don’t touch that.”

You cursed yourself for not bringing a toy for him; focusing on getting home fast enough before any damage could be done. When you pulled into the driveway you could already see the vehicle of another one that represents the royal convoy. You hurriedly grabbed everything you’ve gathered leaving the door open to let Lucius run in himself. The cat did just that with a certain loaf in tow.

“Lucius!? Hey! That’s my bread, Lucy come on!”

You struggled to follow the cat inside as you juggled the suits and the bread basket hanging on your arm. Nonetheless, you made your way in completely unaware of the company your family was entertaining.

“-as I was saying we will not be needing any more invitations.”

“And as I see it you will be needing more invitations.” The determined voice came from who you assumed must’ve been the owner of the royal vehicle. “Ruggie if you please.”

Peeking out from behind your little pile you spied the royal colors of orange and black worn by a beefy guy with dark skin and white hair. You quickly averted your eyes when his amber eyes stared intensely into yours, disappearing into the kitchen you fanned yourself to fruitlessly calm the heat that enveloped your face; missing the dispute your father and the knight seemed to have with your father.

“I will repeat..that is but a servant: someone who best stays with the house for our livelihood.”

“So you insist…” The amber-eyed knight sneered in disbelief looking at his confidant who reentered the room with a framed photo in his hands.

“Well, it doesn’t seem like this…servant of yours…is all that depended on to sort your house.” Snickering to himself Ruggie flung a decorative globe from his pocket leaving Deuce to lunge as he caught the item. “Which is the house of an upper-middle-class family that can certainly afford a night on the town. Though I get why you’d want to keep them a secret they are quite the…catch.”

On the last word, the royal attendant threw the frame in Mozus’ direction which he caught gingerly holding the frame to his chest as the knight further glared at him. The royal envelope was also shoved in his direction dropping it at his feet when he made no moves to receive it.

“His Highness expects all to be there. Good day.”

“Hishishishi, bye-bye.”

Both knight and attendant left with a glare and smirk respectively before leaving as swiftly as they came; leaving their hosts in a dreary position. Ace and Deuce entered the foyer both cradling various pictures and artistic decor. Exchanging dark looks with one another as you finally entered the foyer, awkwardly swinging your arms back and forth as you picked up on the tense atmosphere.

“Sooo you guys want to tell me about what happened there? Did Ace finally get caught for some stupid crime?” You tried to lighten the mood as you poked fun at Ace. But he didn’t react to you simply looking away as Deuce caved.

“Well no it's more like we have something to tell you–what?”

Elbowed in the ribs the boys begin something of a glaring contest which has Mozus intervening. Sending them away with a look you and your step-father are the only ones left in the room as the two grumbles to their rooms.

“So what’s this all about?”

“The prince is holding a banquet..in hopes of finding a spouse.” Mozus sighed as he moved towards the study; sitting in his chair. “His employees were adamant that we all make an appearance.”

“All of us?” Sitting across from him you looked into his tired eyes.

“Yes. I’m under the impression that they believe us to be…abusive to you…so they were insistent that you attend.”

You sucked your teeth in annoyance. “Can’t we like makeup an excuse…like that my formal wear got destroyed or something? I mean if they had any doubts I could just back it up.”

Mozus let out a weary sigh as he stared into the distance.

“But I doubt that would work, they are royalty after all.”

“Royalty Shmoyalty we pay our taxes and as such, we should be allowed to marry who we please. And not be forced to play bachelorette with this prince-guy.”

He laughed at your statement, settling into the chair as you do the same. Smiling at his ounce of joy that settled into a look of trust.

“So…will you be alright not to attend…under such circumstances?”

“Yeah of course! Lucius and I can have a ball of our own…all under a happy accident.”

___________________________________________________

“Told you they’d be slippery.” Prince Leona laughed as he listened to the feedback of the conversation. Amused by the way his knight and attendant’s eyes widen as they listened in. As he predicted his prey and their herd were a slippery bunch; collectively united to make his hunt that much harder. While he did prefer to nap rather than hunt he didn’t mind the means all that much when the end would be so fulfilling.

“Uh, you sure you really want this one? I don’t know if it’s worth marrying into a family brave enough to defy the crown.”

“I- ’ll have to agree with Ruggie-senpai on this one. Would you really want to mate with someone with so many…admirers.”

The knight spoke frankly, having tailed the auspicious character that everyone couldn’t help but swoon over. Too often had he watched the citizens sink into the darkest depths of depravity all in pursuit of this…(Y/n)-character. For all, he could deduct it wouldn’t be bizarre that those with more sway in nobility or even other kingdoms may come to desire them the same way. They could use their power after being exposed to them either through violence or diplomatic servitude.

(Y/N) Trein was a dangerous specimen, to Jack, for someone so unaware of their effect on people they easily captivate anyone that so much as glances at them. He didn’t know what scared him more the prospect of many endangering the life of his prince or the pull of his own desire for you. It was shameful but he found no solace in running from his emotions. All he knew is that it’d be trouble if his master decided to wed you…

“Heh. Don’t you think that’s a good enough reason anyway?” Leona snickered at his subordinates’ blinking in confusion.

“Who else will have the resources to keep such a snare, locked up tight?”

“Then what about the bigwigs? Won’t they want to see them?” Ruggie tested, hoping to catch the Prince off-guard. Leona only laughed flashing his canines in a toothy grin.

“I doubt you’d two would let that happen,” He laughed at the shocked look Jack would make as he turned to see Ruggie’s expression of panic. “Don’t think I couldn’t tell, they are practically irresistible.”

“A-aren’t you…worried that we’d steal them from you?”

Leona leaned back with his hands behind his head, letting his legs cross on the center console smirking to himself.

“Tch steal them and face the entire fleet of my brother’s kingdom? Fat chance. Jack’s too uptight and Ruggie’d run out of money,” the two shrugged and turned away in affirmation.

“Besides we’re all quite good at sharing with one another. Right, Jack?”

“Hishishishi”

Jack’s cheeks dusted with heat as Ruggie snickered, bashfully putting his arms behind his head. Letting the hyena calm his laughter, the knight cleared his throat already paging the royal tailors.

“I’ll go ahead and place the orders. One for a simple delivery and the second one for their untimely incident.

__________________________________________________________

“Ooops the outfit I just got from the royal family ended up in the furnace. Oh—ACE! Are you paying attention!”

“What?”

He looked up at you with the residue of whatever he was eating on his face as he gave you a stupid dumbfounded look. You sneered and rolled your eyes resisting the urge to pull at his ear or smack him upside the head but since his eyes were on you you continued.

“Ace. Look at what’s happened to my outfit from the royal family, I’ve accidentally thrown it into the furnace. See?”

“Uhhh okay? You wanna medal of somethin’?”

You just needed a witness. You just needed a witness. Carrying what you could ‘save’ from the furnace you put it in a metal bucket as you carried it to your father who sat dutifully writing a letter to the prince’s staff. You sweatdropped at his old-fashioned style as you set down your evidence for your computer already typing the beginning of his letter.

“Hey, it might arrive in time if we email them a picture..”

“...I guess that would serve our cause just as nicely.”

While you weren’t worried about informing them of your absence so early you didn’t want your Father who was guaranteed to possibly run into those intimidating lackeys to be accused of not even attempting. With hours until the banquet it would put the royal family in the impossible position of producing a tailor–made masterpiece in time. You left him to type awkwardly at the computer, hoping to save him from the embarrassment of your pity.

“Well, then I ought to get ready for the night.”

You had grand plans to enact a night full of debauchery as you relished in the emptiness of the house. Which consisted of finally going through the steamy selections Trein believed to be a pile of ash. Along with preparing to prepare for the turf war of pranks that Ace and Deuce seemed to endlessly rule. It would be glorious! That being said, you wasted no time bugging the duo to prepare for their departure as well as protecting their suits from whatever disaster seems to follow them.

Trein was also kept busy not only preparing his email but steeling himself as he slid his wand into the undercoat of his suit. Despite your attempt to help he was certain the prince wouldn’t take kindly to this…incident. He was prepared to lose the battle himself but his sons were the only ones he needed to keep safe. Anyone would carry out his will, should the worse come to be, it’d be them.

“Y-you don’t think we’ll have to use these…do you?”

Deuce’s breathless whisper weighed heavy on Trein’s heart but he steeled himself. They need to be strong and as their only role model left he needed to embody that. So with eyes cold and distant, he encouraged them to be prepared.

“I won’t cry for you old man because you’re not dying. And (Y/n)’s not going to end up with that pompous prince anyway! Not if I have anything to say about it!”

“Y-yeah.”

Could a father be more proud? His hugs were tight and firm, a silent reminder of his love before facing you. You have always been a joy to nurture. Prideful and loving it hurt not to warn you of his possible end but he couldn’t bring himself to worry you now. So with an ache in his heart, he smiled a woeful ‘farewell’ as you giggled something unread. But he couldn’t have asked for a better send-off.

“Yes! Now that they’re gone I can be an absolute menace!”

And your night of menacing would begin as you begin your plans for the night. Completely unminding of the sun setting as you continued to enjoy your time in an empty house. All was well traps were set, and treats were had but then an ominous knock at the door had you shooting off the couch.

“Delivery of the royal family.”

The sound of steps quickly receding and the sound of tires skirting off. You rushed to the door, opening it to find a dreaded copy of the outfit you destroyed hours before. Were you wrong? Was the royal family truly so prominent that they were fast enough to prepare this!? You took it inside and began to pace…surely they shouldn’t expect you to show up with your family’s car already gone? But if they were so adamant about something as small as this perhaps they would send a car. Or some form of transportation so that your father would not be at fault, right? Right?!

You stuck your head out into the dark and chilling night, looking down the street across the estate. Alas, no car or limo was in sight nor the sound of any vehicles on the street. With a heart full of anxiety you turned back into your home, closing the door. You kept your eyes trained on the wooden floorboards as you wracked your brain for some solution.

“Well, that’s convenient.”

The sultry voice has you snapping in horror to the living room where a man or rather three were hovering around. In the armchair facing the door was a man with blonde hair and purple tips that curled at the sparkling surface of his purple suit that’s back curtained into a tuft half-skirt. He wore a full face of makeup, sporting a knowing smolder and a raised chin giving a look of refinement. The other man with blonde hair in a bowl cut stood just behind the same chair dressed in a matching tail suit that reached dramatically at his calves. He tipped his hat with a widening smile as you met his emerald gaze.

“Bonjour mon cheri, it's a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“F-finally?”

You were slow to join them in the living room despite their unchallenging demeanor. Only moving forward when the third male with soft features was lackadaisically rifling through the frames of your family on a nearby coffee table. You ran over taking it from him to put it back in its place, the lavender-haired male shrugged returning to the side of the man with folded hands in the chair. You scratched at your head as you took in the odd throuple.

“So what are you? How did you get in here? Why are you–”

“We don’t have much time (Y/n) so I’ll make this short. Rook!”

The blonde with the hat stepped forward, “Yes My Queen!”

Clearing his throat he opened his hands as he presented each of them.

“We are your fairy…helpers. This Roi du Poison: Vil and this is Monsieur Crabapple: Epel and as you’ve heard I am Rook! We are at your service for the night!”

You opened your mouth to respond, stopped by Vil’s raised hand. He sighs and shakes his head.

“I’m certain you have questions (Y/n), but we don’t have time for that. At this moment Mozus Trein is ingesting the poison that will kill him at the stroke of midnight.”

“What–! Why didn’t you say something sooner!”

“I’m telling you now so hush. We’ll give you the antidote but-”

“But?”

Rook excitedly chimed “You must be back by midnight! Otherwise–”

This time it was Epel who spoke in a hasty tone, “Or we’ll be forced to collect a form of payment from the life that was saved.”

“Do you accept?”

His made-up smile was unreadable but his eyes smiled with curiosity. As though you’d have any other answer to their proposal.

“I accept.”

Rook cheered while you unraveled the gaudy garments that matched the kingdom’s colors. Vil grimaced and gagged.

“Oh no, I am not letting you arrive in that! Especially not late!”

As if he was gliding he stood up from his seat to stand nearly chest to chest with you. You pulled away when he moved his hand to your face, flashing you a look of solemn sarcasm before materializing a wand in a flash of sparkles.

Smiling at your dropped jaw he waved the wand over your head. Just like its appearance the wand sprinkled sparkles all over your lounge clothes transforming them into a magnificent outfit, with frills and folds that added a new type of elegance. You even felt a tiara appear on your head before Vil slapped your hand away. The final touch was a stylish pair of sneakers, you flashed him a curious look while he sighed.

“Judging by the time,” He flashed a look at the clock. “You’ll need to move fast, ballroom wear isn’t exactly what you need.”

“Touche”

Rook appeared from behind him with a mirror in hand showing the unfamiliar reflection of you in stellar makeup.

“You look like rêve dans la vraie vie!”

“Uh, thanks?”

Smoothing out the outstanding frills and floof you hurried to the door before returning to Vil who shook his head again before handing you the vial with a color-changing liquid. You held it close, finding a secure pocket to store the vial before once again heading to the door to make a hard stop with sunken shoulders.

“Guys! I don’t have a car!”

Vil deadpanned, “Not my department.”

“It’s mine!” Epel shouted, smiling widely as he took your hand with his leading you out the door. Holding you behind him, he enthusiastically pulled out his wand and waved it wildly around, much less precise as Vil had done.

Similar sparkles popped wildly about to reveal a coolish blue and purple vehicle. Screaming slim and sleek it looks like the latest edition of motorcyle. Noting how it matched your look, you jumped as the engine revved animatedly as though it was calling out to you. Turning to Epel who was proudly smiling at your shocked face.

“B-but I don’t know how to ride–”

“Don’t worry! It’s magic! Now go! go!”

He pushed you along to start running towards the bike. You leaned forward, gripping the handles feeling a warm urge rush over you as you reeled your right hand back to try the engine. Booming loud and spiking your adrenaline you almost missed the warning he gave as you kicked up the stand.

“Once you get closer to the time limit it’s not going to work the same.”

“Okay got it! Bye, and thanks!”

You hurriedly waved to the three who were standing on the front door steps, each waving to you with their varied levels of energy. Jetting off you let what must’ve been the magic course through your veins as you mindlessly turned through the empty streets towards the castle banquet hall.

“I’m coming, Dad! Just give me time!”

_____________________________________________________

Deuce could barely stand to sway with the woman who had asked him to dance. He was too busy keeping his eyes on his father. Engaged in conversation with the prince’s guard looking especially terse as he smoothly sipped at his champagne glass.

“Hey, boy!? Are you paying attention or am I just that nice to hold?”

“S-sorry!”

He hurriedly released his hold on the woman, quickly wiping his hands against his suit before scampering into the crowd of beautiful people. Baby blue eyes searched frantically for his brother, feeling the burning weight in the pocket close to his chest. His searching proved fruitless as he lost his tact in maneuvering between the giant dresses and tailcoats.

“A-ace?”

“Hey!?”

“S-sorry!”

Breaking out of the crowd he found himself in the darker section of the garden. Away from the floating lights and mingling guests. Collapsing on a bench to clutch at his heart that was beating a mile a minute. How could he be so useless? His father was possibly having the biggest confrontation of his life and all he could do was search for his brother in hopes of intervening. He couldn’t recall when he became such a coward. Maybe it was the day he lost his new mother? Or when (Y/n) was almost abducted? Or that time Ace left him in that closet? But what did it matter? To blame any one moment distracted from the outstanding major point–that Deuce was a coward that might be losing someone soon. Two if he didn’t get up soon.

He tried to stand but was cruelly returned to his spot when he felt his body trembling. Could he take on anyone with such fragility? Without Ace’s loud presence to hide behind?

Deuce shakily inhaled and exhaled.

“What are you doin’ out here?”

The voice was gravelly and deep as if its owner had just awakened. Easing his fear with curiosity the ravenette looked to the bush across from him. The owner of the voice was yawning and stretching from out the previously neat shrubbery. Dark-skinned with cat-like eyes and unruly hair, Deuce thought he looked familiar but couldn’t place his face. Leona on the other hand, let a fanged smirk spread across his face, and recognized him right away.

“Uh, what are you doing…sleeping in a bush…at a party?”

“Probably the same reason, you’re out here crying.”

“I-i’m not crying!”

Leona chuckled, leaping out of the bush to tower over the still-sitting Deuce. With sly intention, the prince sat next to him feigning sympathy as he probed further.

“Oh? Then what are you doing? Did you just get dumped, maybe?”

He sighed, “No…I’m just getting over an…insecurity, I guess.”

“Insecurity?”

“I just…get kind of anxious and recently I’ve just been scared.”

“Scared?”

“Yeah. I think I’m just worried because my Da–father’s life is kind of in danger and I’m just not–”

Leona was mentally rolling his eyes. This guy just kept going on and on. But perhaps if he could show a little sympathy it’d help smooth things over in the future. After all, it'd be helpful to have his brother-in-law willing to speak well in his spouse’s ear.

“Well, I think you should focus on getting some security.”

“Security?”

“Yeah, whatever option certifies your status and family’s well-being no matter how small.”

“Wait what was tha–?”

Deuce’s question was interrupted by the crux of gasps from the party guests. Who all seemed to be gawking at something deep within the party hall. Deuce stood up, wasting no time to fight through the crowd; praying it wasn’t shock from someone’s untimely death. On the other hand, Leona sauntered, slinking around the crowd to watch what caught everyone’s attention.

_______________________________________________________________

In the sea of guests dressed in the earthly colors of the kingdom, you were sure you stood out. Your outfit was a macrame of blues and purples, sparkling beyond any normal amount. This is why you couldn’t fault the entire gaggle of guests guffawing at your wear and if looked under a speculative scope could be considered a direct protest of the crown. It might have been an unintentional perk but you’d take it nonetheless.

Almost immediately you spotted Mozus looking shocked with his drink in hand. Still panting from running up the steps, you strode with confidence purposely taking—whoever this man was to the prince—by surprise as you guided your father away.

“Excuse me, I must speak to my father for a moment.”

“Uh, y-yeah–I mean, yes.”

You didn’t wait for his response while you led your father away, sneakily slipping the drink out of his hand. Finally coming to terms with you being there, Mozus spoke trying to keep his composure as you started to waltz, joining the still-staring crowd as you spoke.

“(Y/n) you look–”

“Stunning? Dazzling? Remarkable? I know.”

He smiled and shook his head at you.

“But what are you doing here? I thought we agreed you’d stay home.”

He twirled you and you responded, “We did. But they sent another.”

“Another?!”

“Another.”

You two followed the steps, both of you taking a look at the non-dancing folks. The prince is among them. Sucking your teeth, you took your father’s hand dragging him off the dance floor to the table holding drinks. Pulling the vial out of your pocket you didn’t bother to hide it as you frantically dumped the vial into a glass before holding it out to him.

“I don’t have much time. You need to drink this.”

He looked at you like you were Ace–stupid. You leaned in keeping your voice low as you laid it out for him.

“I got a tip that you have been poisoned,” you put your finger up as he looked ready to argue.

“ You did drink? Didn’t you?”

His embarrassed silence told you everything you needed to know.

“Which is why you need to drink this cure and I have to leave before we’re in debt for it.”

Mozus opened his mouth and closed it, finally taking the glass from your hand. Holding it to his chest as he looked at you.

“Are you certain?”

“Of what?”

“Of this…being a cure.”

“...”

“(Y/n)--”

“Please! I don’t want to take the chance…”

He couldn’t resist the way you looked at him with those pleading (e/c) eyes, so much like the toddler he’d fallen in love with from day one. Mozus Trein would always have a strength weakness and you were one of three.

“Fine.”

He downed the champagne like a madman, going back to his stoic expression. He raised an eyebrow as you continued to stare at him as if expecting some immediate change to happen.

“Don’t you have to leave before we’re in debt?”

“Ohhh! You’re right!”

You hugged him before sprinting through the crowd, unfortunately on your way out you could already see the stuttering man and another running to catch you before you reached the door. In your dash, you took a detour using the crowd to stifle their chase, looking around for those familiar pair of troublemakers.

“Oi! I said we’re dancing, didn’t I!? LET’S GO PRINCEY!”

It was Ace dragging the scowling prince to the dance floor away from the position that would have been your doom. You silently thanked him as you spotted the night sky, about to jump down the steps you stopped because of the burly man guarding your exit.

“I apologize! But per my prince’s orders, I can not let you through!”

Before you could retaliate you were stilled by the increasing cry of Deuce flying by!

“ I AP-OL-OGIZE!”

Crashing into the man his momentum sent the both of them tumbling down the stairs. You ran behind them passing by to get to your magic motorcycle. Shouting behind you, you stuck your thumbs up.

“Thanks, Deucey!”

Instead of words, you were met with the continuous grunts and fleshy sounds of being punched. You stopped yourself from looking and instead focused on mounting your ride once more. But something wasn’t sitting right, wasn’t there another–?

“Hi, there!”

“Whoa!”

Standing right in front of you was a leaner male, smaller than the prince, and the guard smiling mischievously as he blocked your ride.

“Where are ya goin’ so fast?”

“None of your business!”

“What? Don’t you want to–”

His smile became a smirk as he raised his hand toward you. You felt like you were having an out-of-body experience where you couldn’t control any of your movements.

“Laugh With Me?!”

At that moment a flash of sparkles seems to sprout from your outfit shooting into the man’s face. He reeled back, falling to the ground and curling into himself as he clutched his nose. Recognizing the sparkle you sent a kiss to the sky before zooming off on your motorcycle.

“THANK YOU!!”

Riding off into the night you let yourself breathe. One hurdle at a time. The next one is getting home in time which should be fine. As long as the prince and his goons are occupied at the very least you’ll get home in time.

_____________________________________________________________

“Are you sure that was okay?” Epel asked as he worriedly watched you ride on the motorcycle he had spent months crafting.

Vil didn’t respond, watching with mixed feelings as he zoomed in on your determined face. Setting the mirror down he leaned into the armchair as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Technically yes. Usually, the fairy godparent should have done everything within their power to assure their success…”

Epel grimaced, “But we don’t want that, do we?”

At Vil’s silence, Epel went on grazing his fingers along your face on one of the framed photos.

“We…don’t keep them if they make it back, right? So we should want them to fail…so we shouldn’t help right?”

Vil exasperatedly sighed as he looked at the decor of the home. He scoffed lightly, threading his gloved hands through his hair as he let a defeated smile grace his face.

“But we love them so dearly, we can’t help but want the best for (Y/n). That little Minx.”

Playfully cursing at you as he watched you through the glass of his all-seeing mirror. Epel returned to his side looking over his shoulder with a look Vil couldn’t pinpoint.

“But what if–the situation with the prince, right? It’s not going to get better, right? Then maybe we can have them then?”

“In exchange for saving them from a forced marriage and protecting their family?.... That’s incredibly dubious Epel. It breaks every rule in the fairy book.”

The petite boy smiled playfully wagging his wand.

“But we’re not fairies are we?”

Vil couldn’t help but cackle laugh alongside his junior’s snickers. Before turning back to the mirror with a settled mind and a happy smile.

“Then it's settled, we'll let them return home in time. Successfully complete the payment and we collect our darling during the next tragedy. Are we all in agreement?”

With vigor, he’d never had towards Vil before he shouted, “Yeah!”

“Hold on…Where’s Rook?”

__________________________________________________________

You should have been in the clear, a straight shot home would be the end of this night. But whatever small objects whizzing by you on your ride might be telling a different story. You took the backroads surrounded by the woods to keep your pursuers off your trail. Looking in your rearview mirror, you found no lights that said otherwise, and yet why did it feel as though you were still being chased?

You didn’t want to turn off the road but when you felt the break of wind again, you heard the hissing of one of your tires. As quickly as you could you turned back to the main road, finally coming to a stop when you made it to the shopping square.

Getting up from the toppled motorbike to inspect the flat tire expecting to find some small puncture. Instead, you dug through the larger hole to pull out an arrowhead. Immediately you stood up, frantically looking around until you witnessed a flaming arrow landing on your fallen bike.

Backing away from the growing inferno you could finally see the faint outline of a shadowy pursuer. In the darkness of the night, they reeled their arm back and released after another arrow seemed to fly by you. Without another thought, you took off ducking under closed stalls and parked cars as you made your way to the only place you could think of where you could hijack a motorbike.

“Sorry, Trey!”

You quite easily rigged his motorcycle to run after locking the door of the bakery’s private parking lot. As the banging against the door intensified, it had you working fast and you couldn’t help but thank Deuce for his bad egg era. Mounting the motorcycle you waited until your assailant broke down the door, before firing away through the door and over the guy.

You didn’t bother looking for the identity of the masked individual or if they were getting up again. Continuing on your route you flashed a look at the radio clock on the motorcycle, speeding as much as you can. It was a small window but you could make it!

______________________________________________________

With minutes to spare you, crashed the motorcycle into the cobblestone of the estate’s entryway climbing your porch and quickly unlocking the door to your home. Stumbling in, you hardly noticed your disintegrating garments returning you to your comfy attire. Bent over and heaving on your knees you took a minute to compose yourself.

“...Congratulations (Y/n). Saving your step-father and returning all in one night is no easy feat.”

“Good job, (Y/n) we knew you could do it!”

Light-headed and heart still beating erratically you gave a lopsided smile to them both, puffing your chest and putting your hands on the backside of your hips.

“All…in…a day’s work. Whoo.”

Suddenly feeling a wave of tiredness come over you, letting your eyes droop and your shoulders sag. Looking down in a startling realization you could feel the light quake of your legs whether from fear or exhaustion from holding you up; you decided on one thing.

“I’m really tired.”

Vil gave a knowing smile as he stepped toward you, putting a warm hand on the middle of your back he let you lean into his touch. Holding you against himself, he let his arm curl around holding you close as he guided you up the stairs and to your room. It didn’t matter to you then that there was no hesitation before opening your door.

Laying you delicately into the mattress, his face brushing against yours raised no alarm only vaguely tickling your nerves as you welcomed the plush of your pillow. Vil was speaking to you, something important indeed but your body didn’t care. Already filling your vision with splotches of black and your eyelids filling the space; you melted into the warmth of your bed.

“--When that time comes all of you is mine.”

_____________________________________________

Waking to the muffled angry cries and pawing of a frustrated cat, was a jarring start to your morning. It didn’t help that your body ached and throbbed with the unprepared tension of the night before. With great struggle you raised your lead-heavy limbs from the bed, dragging your feet as you dressed quickly. Just a brush of your teeth, a wash to the face, and putting on your robe—far too tired to change out of your comfy clothes. When you opened your door the cat sped past your slippers; hissing at the state before rubbing himself all over the surface.

“Why are you so miffed it's not like I…had anyone over.”

When you woke you were too caught up with the pain to recall the madness of the night before. Fairy helpers. Magic clothes and a motorcycle. Antidotes to poison. Escaping royalty. A hunter with arrows. It was a timeline of an action movie all of which you didn’t have time to register before now.

“Oh gosh, Trey’s bike!”

Forgoing feeding the cat you ran down the stairs and out the door, dreading that’d you’d find the wreckage you vaguely remember. To your horror the motorbike was twisted in an odd angle, scrapes all over its details, and a concerning amount of arrows lodged into the tires.

“Trey I am so sorry.”

Already preparing for the shifts at the bakery you’d be willing to pick up or any outlandish favor he could come up with in exchange. Letting out a defeated sigh you waved a dismissive hand before heading back inside. Looking for anything out of place you took your time scanning the living room trying to spot a stray footprint or glitter coming up short.

“Hey!” You looked to the stairwell seeing an angry Ace, trailed by Deuce stomping his way down the steps.

“What d’ya think you were doing?! Trashing my room like you did and then showing up to the ball you not to go to!?”

“I didn’t trash your room. And it was an absolute emergency.”

“Well, couldn’t you have an emergency quietly?! You literally wore the craziest outfit—”

“I thought y-you looked really nice.”

“Thanks, Deuce.”

“And got the prince’s attention! The exact person we were trying to avoid!”

“I told you: it was an emergency!” “Oh yeah?! And was getting Deuce beat up worth it?”

“Sorry but yeah. And what about you Casanova you got to dance with the prince?”

“Shut. It.”

Ace continued to complain but you stopped listening looking around for the one this was all for. Pushing past those two to open the doors of Trein’s study. For a moment there was fear, that the poison was not cured or that the antidote was the opposite of what you’d hoped. That you’re dearest stepfather would not be standing there. That he’d be in the coroner’s office having his case dismissed on the Royal family’s behalf.

But he was there. Standing healthy and firm as he looked at something small nearly invisible. Having heard you come in he squashes it between his fingers turning to you with fondness.

“Judging by the bike outside you had quite the night.”

You chuckled, “I did? I don’t know about that, I wasn’t the one whose life was on the line.”

Mozus gave a look of disbelief before accepting a hug from you. You were happy the night had gone the way it did if it meant saving your dearest dad. Neither of you pulled away as Ace barged in pointing his finger as he was still attempting to berate you. Stopping when he saw neither of you pulls away.

“What is this? A fluffy party? Don’t think just cause you're hugging him doesn’t mean I’m going to get all fuzzy with you!?”

“Don’t get all pissy just because I’m getting hugs!”

“I’m not–” “Did you say hugs? I want in.”

Trein opened the hug, extending a hand to Deuce. Who eagerly pushes past his brother to accept the invitation.

“You may join us, just watch your strength. It would be problematic if you injured (Y/n).”

“Right!”

“He doesn’t want to say it but he’s scared you’ll break his broken back even more.”

“(Y/n).”

“I promise to be gentle pops!”

“I’m not made of glass.”

“...”

“Ace…”

“...Whatever. I’m only coming over because you sad saps won’t stop looking at me like that.”

In a suffocating heap, you hugged your family; relishing in the asynchronous beating of their hearts. It was comforting–their obvious signs of warmth even as they all departed on the pretext of it being too hot, brought a smile to your face.

You did it. They were safe.

The startling knocking on the door broke the moment causing all of you to snap your heads toward the source. With a pensive sigh and shake of your head, you went for the door giving a guilty face to their curious looks.

“No doubt probably Trey who's about to hound me for his bike.”

So sure you swung the door open fully expecting to see an angry green-haired baker. Only to be overcome with dread as you recognized the royal colors decorating the uniforms of the prince and his entourage.

“You’ll have to excuse us (Y/n) (L/n). We have some business with you.”

In no time at all the prince had lazily sprawled himself on an armchair and his guards on the couch, leaving Mozus to take the only other chair in the room. After closing the door on the growing crowd of onlookers you stood dutifully next to Ace and Deuce who stood on both sides of the armchair. Mozus spoke with a pensive bow.

“Your Highness it's an honor. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

The prince was still leaning comfortably in the chair, resting his boots on the coffee table in between. The scrawnier attendant spoke, who you vaguely recalled somehow attempting to stop you.

“His Highness is more than captivated by the daisy, who left the celebration all too soon.”

Their hungry eyes were all on you to which you fumbled your rebuttal.

“A-are you by chance talking about Ace?”

Deuce caught your wandering gaze, shaping his lips into an ‘o’ before joining you.

“Oh yes, I-i saw that His Highness shared a lovely dance with our precious Ace. Did you perhaps fall head over heels in love with him?”

You held in a snicker and so did the slim attendant, doing a terrible job silencing his amusement behind his hands. The prince seemed to growl as he sent a glare in Deuce’s direction who immediately shrunk back in some sort of reprimand. As if intending to break the tension the burly attendant spoke, who you now recalled was the one Deuce tackled for your sake.

“Who we are referring to is (Y/n) (L/n) and as you’ve deduced His Highness is formally asking for your hand.”

A strong silence fell over your family. A collective horror gripping your hearts.

“What if…I planned to refuse?”

Deuce and Ace released a gasp and Mozus turned to look at you, heart aching at the sweat that beaded your brow. The attendants sent a look toward one another before looking to the Prince who sat unbothered, before laughing out loud. It was a scornful laugh. A laugh that made your cheeks burn with stupidity. As if what you had proposed was so outlandish that you might as well paint your face, wear bells on your head, and become a jester.

His laughing stopped as he brought his feet off the table; placing his elbows on his knees and carding his fingers to rest along his chin. Emerald eyes narrowed and challenging he spoke with a rumbling authority.

“Do you think it's a good idea to refuse me? I know you’re not stupid (Y/n). Would you rather be married without any family, prospects, or a clean record? Or would you rather come happily into the royal family without our behest?”

“But you're still threatening me–”

“And? I’m being nice with all the running you’ve been doing from me. I love a good chase but I’m about tired of pushing past these obstacles. And I’m about to knock them down. Permanently.”

The message was clear.

Your family’s protective streak for you was being tested. And so was your own will. More than anything you would have loved to hide behind your father and brothers. But that would be folly against someone who truly had no problem getting rid of your family. It wouldn’t do much to refuse…even if it killed you to lose your freedom to this.

Mozus stood up, angrily gripping the armrests of his chair as he dangerously turned red. Ace and Deuce mirrored his actions more than ready to be thrown into action. So were the attendants who seemed to be waiting for the chance to spring into action.

You have to diffuse this.

You need time to think.

“Dad… it's okay…please.”

With a hand on his shoulder, you guided him back into his seat before turning to the smirking prince.

“I…will…need a minute.”

You didn’t wait for him to answer dashing past Deuce and Ace as you ran into the nearby room: the study. Having half a mind not to cry you began to pace. What could you do? What could be done? The cards have been set and you had the losing hand. All you could do was to give in. And after all, you’d gone through? For the hero you were before, it would all mean nothing.

Even with the force of magic that you’re family had, you couldn’t expect novices and one senior to protect against an army. No. If it was magic you’d need something stronger. Something that has proven to give results. To be a definite victory for you and your family. Kind of like…your fairy helpers.

“I had a feeling you’d need me.”

You turned to see Vil in all his radiant, glittery glory smiling as pridefully as he did before. You ran up to him with a conviction and helpless plea, fully prepared to beg on your knees if you had to.

“Vil…the prince he– he said if I didn’t marry him willingly he’d hurt them–but I really don’t want to sign my life away to that horrible brainless—Do you have anything that can help me?! Or just some way where I can guarantee that my family will be safe?”

A warm hand rubbed against your back and the smell of cedar filled your nose. It reminded you of that one fellow…

“Ohhh~ pauvre biche, Vil we must offer our help!”

There was something about the way he said it. The sing-songy tone that was typical for him had a hint of mocking nature. But surely that was out of understanding perhaps it was something of a minor problem for fairies such as them or that it was all an act in the first place.

“Yeah, Vil, (Y/n)’s our friend we’ve got to help them.”

Epel was on your other side letting his shoulder touch yours in a form of support as he looked to Vil. Seemingly convinced Vil pulls a vile from his pocket. The solution glows a sparkling purple that flashes gradients of green. It was alluring to simply glance at.

“Alright then (Y/n) I have a proposal for you: you drink this and your family will be safe from any others who may wish to harm them,” You opened your mouth to agree, stopping when a gloved finger pushes against your lips.

Vil continues, “But you must agree to accept the journey that comes with it. “

Your eyebrow rose with a question on your tongue only to be stopped by more fingers on your lips.

“I can’t elaborate on that further. All I can say is that we’d be with you the whole way and no one. No one will ever threaten you again.”

It was your choice.

“To concede or thrive? Mon filou, what will you choose?”

“You’ll make the right choice (Y/n)~! I’m sure of it.”

You held your gaze on the swirling solution in the vile.

It was up to you.

694 notes · View notes

redlittlefoxari · 4 months

Text

Astrion Epilogue: An Adventure in Making a Life

Chapter Six: On the road with secrets

Summary: The Party gets suspicious when Tav suddenly starts having morning sickness. Tav and Astsrion try to explain the sickness without giving away that Tav is Seven Weeks pregnant.

Warnings: NSFW+18, smut, pregnancy, blood, violence, fluff, angst.

Relationship: Astarion X Tav

Characters: Astarion (Baldur's Gate) Karlach (Baldur's Gate)Gale (Baldur's Gate) Wyll (Baldur's Gate) Shadowheart (Baldur's Gate)Lae'zel (Baldur's Gate) Tav (Baldur's Gate) Jaheira (Baldur's Gate) Halsin(Baldur's Gate)

Master List

Seven weeks pregnant

It had been a week since you started the journey to water deep, and today was the worst day. You awoke to your stomach reeling and barely made out your tent flaps before last night's dinner made its way up your throat and lips. You spent several moments heaving up the dinner Astarion made for you. The red contents thankfully looked like wine and not the blood mixed with cherry juice you had last night. You prayed that your friends would think you had too much wine last night and not question you much about your morning sickness.

Astarion emerged from the tent in the middle of your heaving and rubbed small circles around your back in soothing comfort. There wasn't much he could do for you now but give you some form of comfort until this passed.

At the commotion, the others started to stir from their tents and eyed the two of you with worry. Shadowhearts eyebrow was raised in suspicion a question forming in her mind. You weren't seen with any alcohol last night and had refused when she offered you a drink of her stash last night, claiming you brought your own. By the look on her face, you gaged that she was playing back the night's events in her mind.

"You know how it is, Shadowheart?" Astarion was quick: "One too many glasses of wine and a night of passion upsets the stomach after."

You let out a huff of air and whipped your lips. Your mouth tasted like cherries and blood. Cherry juice had the same metallic taste of blood but cut with an edge of sweetness that you have been craving this pregnancy. You still ate other foods because Astarion wouldn't let you eat cake and other sweet confections, but they were still what you craved the most.

"Yup… Just too much good wine and… passion." You gave Astarion a sideways glare. Did he have to add the passion part? You just got back a sly smile as a response.

"What vintage was it?"

"What?" You weren't expecting to get interrogated.

"I want to get a bottle when we return to the city. If it did that to you, I'm sure it's robust." She started to close the distance, avoiding the puddle you made.

"I don't remember… I was really drunk by the time…"

"Where is the bottle that will tell us." She looked over your shoulder.

"Do you think this is the time to question her about wine?" Karlach stepped in to save you. "She just got sick all over herself, and you're more worried about the vintage so you can get drunk better? You need to check yourself into a program, I swear."

Gods, you loved this big beautiful teifling. Shadowheart was right to be suspicious, but Astarion and you agreed that you wouldn't tell you about the pregnancy until you hit the second trimester at fourteen weeks. The perfect timing for the party. You would party to celebrate Gale, and then after the celebration, when everything would die down, and the rest of the guests would leave. It was just you, Karlach, Wyll, Gale, Shadowheart, and Astarion; you would tell them the good news. But for now, too many things could go wrong. There were too many unknowns; it was better to keep it under wraps for now, lying when you needed to.

"I don't have a problem. I didn't see her drinking last night." Shadowhert turned to face Karlach, who had a good two feet on her.

"Their tent has flaps, so unless you can peer through solid objects, my guess is that she drank the wine behind it. Now, can we get a move on? We'er burring daylight." Karlach turned to hers and Wyll's tent to start packing it away.

"If we find the bottle or remember the vintage, we will be sure to let you know, Shadowheart," Astarion said with a cool bit of ice in his words.

"I'm sure you will… feel better. We have a long journey today." With that, shadowheart walked away to her own tent.

"She was always suspicious." Astarion's eyes bore into the back of her head.

"She was trained too; let's just pack up and get ready to leave; hopefully, when we get onto the road, they will forget about this, and next time I have morning sickness, I'll try to throw up more quietly and in the bushes." You turned and walked into your tent with Astarion at your heels.

"She's like a dog with a bone. She won't let this go, but when we stop in the next town, we can slip away and buy some bottles of wine. That may sway her. She can't see us buy them." You nodded at his words. It might work.

"Okay, we'll do that in the next town, but that's still fifteen days away. What do we do if I get sick before then?" Your question hung in the air for a few seconds.

"Food poisoning?" He shrugged. "We are cooking everything over a fire on sticks found in the woods. Who knows what things are on them."

"Okay, we'll go with that for now, but we need to think of something else." You gave him a light kiss on his lips, not wanting him to taste too much of what you regurgitated.

Before you could pull away, Astarion grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him, causing you to gasp, allowing him to pull you into a complex, demanding kiss that searched your mouth with his tongue. You moaned into the kiss as the feel of him inside your mouth awoke something in you that you didn't know you could feel after throwing up everything in your stomach.

Astarion ended the kiss and placed the hand that wasn't around your wrist so that it cupped your face on one side. "I would kiss you even if you tasted like garlic, and it would burn me from the inside out. Never think I wouldn't want to kiss you like that for a moment."

Your cheeks felt hot at his decoration of love and devotion. You knew he felt that way, but this baby made your emotions go haywire. Mood swings were becoming more familiar to you, and it didn't help that something was getting bigger every time you looked in the mirror. Your hips were fuller, your breasts bigger, and it was getting more and more challenging to get into your armor by the day. You were feeling insecure about everything that made you who you are.

"I know it's just… This baby is changing me, and whenever I look in the mirror, I see a different person." You looked away from his pricing stare, his red eyes seeming like they were looking into your soul.

"You know what I see when I look at you?" He pulled your gaze back towards his eyes. "I see the beautiful woman who is carrying my child inside her, and whenever I look at you, I have to fight every fiber of my being not to rip your clothes off and have you in front of the gods and everyone." You placed a gentle kiss on your lips. "You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen besides myself."

You snorted a laugh and were fighting back tears.

"But you are even before me." His hand moved from your wrist to your belly. "This is a gift, making you more beautiful by the day, my love."

"Thank you, Astarion." You rubbed tears out of your eyes.

"Don't thank me for telling you the truth. Now, let's get you something to eat before we start packing up and leaving. We can't have you starving." Astarion gave you one more kiss, choosing to place it on your forehead before he turned to his pack and pulled out a jar of chilled blood mixed with some cherry juice. The jars were wrapped in cloths woven in frost giant hair that radiated cold energy, keeping whatever was wrapped in them cold and thus significantly increasing the time things could be kept.

"This was such a clever idea. We should paton this and sell it around Baldur's Gate. We could be rich." Astarion handed you your jar.

"It just came to me one day. If we did sell this, we would probably never have to go on another adventure again. We could buy a big house in the upper city and raise our child." You slowly sipped your breakfast, fearing that it would come up to greet you again if you didn't pace yourself.

"Now that does sound nice." Astarion grabbed a jar of blood for himself and began doing the same. The both of you are thinking of the future that you would share with your selves and your unborn child.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the end of the day, your feet felt beyond swollen. Twenty-four miles later, you finally reached the ruins that would be your campsite for the night. They were of an old temple to a god long past dead and gone, but the centuries still held many secrets. The stones were crumbling, but they would make do for just one night as the likelihood of the whole thing collapsing was a slim possibility.

"Are you doing alright?" You heard Wyll's voice as you stopped just before the entrance of the ruins to take off your boots and rub your tired feet.

"Oh yeah, I'm doing fine; it's been a while since I walked this much. My feet seemed to have lost their natural calluses." You plastered a smile on your face, hoping it would convince him of your authenticity.

"I know what you mean; Karlach and I have slowed down during the years. We still go out on adventures, but for the most part, we try to stay home and relax." Wyll returned your smile with one of his own.

The two of you chatted while the others made their way farther along the trail leading to the ruins. Karlach and Astarion were deep in conversation about the many things they had been up to and the beasts they had slain over the last fifty years. Time moved differently in the hells than it did on this plain, so there was a lot to talk about and catch up with.

Shadowheart just listened and made comments every once in a great while. You knew that what happened this morning was still bawling at her. She knew something was up, and it wasn't that you got so drunk that you made yourself sick. You just hoped that she would respect your privacy and not investigate the subject any further. You were leaning towards her doing as when she had her secrets about Shar and the prism when you first met; you didn't pepper her with questions. You let her open up to you in her own time, and she respected you for it. She would give you the same courtesy you had hoped for.

"We should probably catch back up to the others." You slipped your boots back on and got up from the log, shouldering your pack once again as you started to make your way to where the others were.

"Right, I'm ready to make camp for the night and sleep! I'm getting too old for this." Wyll did the same and joined you.

"Nonsense, I think you have another forty years of adventuring left!" The two of you laughed.

"Gods, I hope not. I want to buy some land outside the city and just live."

The way Wyll spoke made you think of your plans. You resisted the urge to place your hand on your stomach. They would be a dead giveaway, and as far as your friends knew, you didn't want to have children and couldn't as long as Astarion was your partner. So, no one talked of children; none of you currently have children. At least none that you knew of.

You didn't hear the arrows as they came towards you. Still, you felt the impact as they embedded themselves in your shoulder and stomach. They sent you careening toward the ground. Your back hit the ground, and you heard Astarion scream your name, terror in his voice.

Bandits surrounded you and Wyll. Five of them total were probably there to see if they could find the secrets of the ruins and thought your little group was too. So they were going to take care of you. That way, they didn't need to share.

Wyll produced his rapier and put it through the heart of one of the bandits. At the same time, Karlach, Shadowheart, and Astarion raced to where the two of you were located. You slowly made your way up from prone, your shoulder throbbing in pain from the arrow protruding out from it. You looked for an opening to run; you were skilled with a bow, and close combat was not your strongest skill. You saw an opening between Wyll and the bandit he downed and dashed beyond them.

Astarion made quick work of one bandit ripping the throat and sucking him dry of blood. Crimson dripped from his chin, and he was a sight to behold. Red eyes seemed to glow as he locked eyes with you and motioned for you to run.

You gave him a nod; as you turned your back, holding your shoulder, you heard a familiar spell being cast. Hail of thorns. This time, you listened to the hundreds of thorns coming towards you. It seemed that your running away made you the prime target since you were not paying attention to anyone and would be the most distracted. You braced yourself for the impact of the thorns, but they never came when you turned to see why Astarion was shielding you with his body.

You heard a wet crunch as Karlach Sliced the last bandit with her great axe, and the others came towards you and Astarion. He looked like a porcupine. Long thorns were jutting out from his back, but he didn't seem to notice as he touched you all over.

"Are you alright?" He touched the arrow that was embedded in your stomach, a look of terror etched on his face.

"I don't know…" You knew what you looked like. Scared, the two of you had no way of knowing what was going on inside you or if your child was okay. Fear gripped your heart, and you tried not to cry.

"The two of you look alright to me." Shadowheart looked confused at your words. "Let's get these arrows and thorns out of the two of you, and I'll heal you. It will be like that never happened."

The two of you ignored her and just stared into each other's eyes. You were frozen with fear. Astarion placed his hand on your stomach, making it look like he would pull the arrow free, but he was looking for any sign. Anything that would let him know that the baby was okay that they were alive and well, and the arrow missed him.

There was nothing, and you saw a look pass across his face. He schooled his features, and you could tell that he was trying to concentrate on something. "I hear it…. I hear their heartbeat." He spoke at a volume that was barely a whisper. "I hear the heartbeat."

The tears that you were holding back free from your eyes, and you couldn't make them stop. Astarion pressed a kiss to your lips and then one on your forehead. The fear that gripped your heart released, and you grabbed the arrow, pulling it from your body but to have an excuse to hold your stomach.

The other three exchanged a look of confusion. "The two of you have gotten into worse scraps than that…. I do not see how this is getting such a reaction." Karlach spoke, her voice edged with worry.

"Yes, well, we always do this when the other gets hurt. Plus, I needed to find out what those arrows were tipped with. I had to give her a full examination."

Astarion's statement didn't do much to quell their confusion, but they couldn't argue with it very much either. He allowed Shadowheart to pull the needles out only after she healed you first. She did so, and then you and she pulled the hundreds of pins out individually.

By the time the five of you made camp, the night was falling, and you forgot the tents and instead decided to sleep on the ground since the ruins provided enough cover. The rest of the night was quiet as the others gave you and Astarion a wide berth, not sure what to say after yours and Astarion's weird reaction to you getting shot earlier.

"That was too close." Astarion came and sat beside you.

"I know, but we couldn't have known they would attack."

"We should have assumed someone was here. This place…. It attracts people like that." You took Astarion's hand.

"We'll just have to assume that from now on. We got too comfortable around friends." You looked at the others in the camp, and they all looked away from you, trying to look casual, like they weren't just watching the two of you.

"I swear these people are so nosy."

"They are concerned that our reactions today were a bit weird for someone who doesn't know what's happening." You looked back to Astarion. "They just care about us."

*tisk* Astarion clicked his tongue. "All this love is making me queasy." He stood up. "Let's go to bed before I get sick."

You rolled your eyes and took his hand. The two of you made your way back to camp. You pulled a jar of your "wine" from your bag and took a long drag off it so Shadowheart would see. Earlier that day, you snuck over to her tent and found an empty bottle of wine. You quickly snatched it and poured your "wine" into the bottle. She gave you a nod.

"Glad you're feeling better." She closed the distance. "If you need to talk to someone about anything, don't hesitate." She gave your hand a quick squeeze. "You helped me get free of Shar and helped me find out who I really was. I will help you through anything. You are my friend."

"I know, and when I'm ready to talk, I will, but now is not the right time." You said as you returned her smile.

She nodded at your words and looked towards Astarion. "Until you are ready as well."

"I'll be sure to let you know when I'm ready to braid each other's hair and trade this tale, but my lips are sealed for now."

Shadowheart gave your hand one last squeeze and walked to her bed roll. You and Astarion did the same, lying beside each other with your hands on your stomachs under the covers where the others couldn't see.

158 notes · View notes

neighbourshouse · 7 months

Text

Quality Time (WWDITS)

Nadja x Female Reader

Summary: Nadja wants to know more about you. (Fluff)

Warnings: Mentions of nudity, insecurity.

Authors note: Hi Hi Hi this is my first ever fanfiction.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

5:30 PM; The vampires wouldn’t be up for a while as the sun was still out and not to set for another hour.

Guillermo gets up around the same time you do, not interacting with each other as you both find solace in the quiet you two only seem to get in the daytime. Usually, you are awake around 12:30, getting ready as you wish and cleaning the house up before the vampires rise for the night. However, today you let yourself sleep in a bit later. Last night ran too long and the house was tidy(ish).

You kept your room dark- if there was one thing you did have in common with the vampires, you enjoyed the night. The room lit with warm-toned lamps, you stood in front of your mirror in a t-shirt, underwear, and socks, looking at yourself.

You have never really liked your body, a constant insecurity mainly while living with individuals who were quite attractive. You were especially bugged by your appearance today, looking at the shape of your hips and the curves of your legs. The t-shirt you wore was purposely large enough to hide your torso and release emphasis on your breasts.

You watched yourself for a few minutes, eventually turning to put on jeans and a hoodie.

“Why do you look at yourself like that? Also, why is there fabric up your ass??” Nadja was sitting on your bed, watching you. She squinted her eyes as her gaze roamed all over your body.

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN SITTING THERE?” you yelled, rushing over to the end of your bed where your pants lay. You quickly pulled them on, frantically zipping them up. At least now you were fully dressed.

“are you going to answer my questions?” She stated.

“NO, I’m not gonna answer actually. why are you up?? you should still be asleep!”

“I awoke early and was bored. What do you expect me to do? Clean the house?” She smirked as if the cameras were there.

“You could have at least knocked”

“ok well, I didn’t and I’m here now.”

There was a pause. You looked at her, brows slightly furrowed. For once you could see slight concern glint across her eyes. It made your gaze soften. You shouldn’t be rude, she is your Mistress after all.

You threw on your hoodie and sat next to her on the bed.

“Sooo…what’s up?” You asked, a little more care in your voice.

As Nadja and Laszlo’s familiar, they only ever really ordered you around. However, both were oddly protective over you for some unknown reason, especially Nadja. She even was the one who insisted you have a proper bedroom; Unlike Guillermo who unfortunately got the space under the stairs.

Nadja and you were the only women in the house. It was hard for you, so you could only imagine how polarizing and alone it must be for her. You know, being a vampire and all on top.

I mean, to tell the truth, you really liked Nadja, like, really liked her- but you could never say anything. You found her beautiful and her oddness was something you could connect with. At the least, you wanted to be her friend but she always seemed to stray away from you or demand things in front of the others. So this interaction was a first.

“I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to talk to you?… I feel a little bad, you’ve been with us for a while now and- I’ve not even bothered to get to know you.” Her eyes shifted downwards into her lap. You squinted and began to inspect her from afar. What the fuck is going on?

“Are you ok? Should I wake the others and get help?”

“No no, I’m fine, like I said I just….”

She looked at you. Was that a bit of sadness?

“Nadja, do you want someone to talk to?” You smiled slightly, trying to get her to look at you.

Her head lifted and she began to smile back- this still seemed too genuine for Nadja.

“I think I do. I also didn’t realise- how sort of interesting you are? I’ve never been in here.” She flicked her eyes around the room, taking in the posters on your walls and the knick-knacks and books on your shelves.

“Thank you…” you trailed off not really knowing what to say next.

Her eyes met yours again.

“y/n, I really do want to know more about you.” You blushed at her words.

“well…what exactly do you want to know?” You said slowly, she began to smile again. Gosh her smile is so pretty. She is so pretty.

“Tell me about yourself. Where are you from? Who are your parents? What was your childhood like? what is your favourite colour? What is your darkest secret?-“ She began to ramble on with different questions, you grabbed her hand to make her stop for a moment. She froze, looking down at the contact. Scared, you retracted your arm quickly as she looked at you.

‘oh shit, you done fucked it-’ you thought.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ apologies started to spew out of you.

“No no! it’s ok! I’m just not- used to that kind of thing.” She looked focused as her brain processed what had just happened.

You felt unsure of what to do, so, you let yourself fall back onto your bed. She looked at you nervously, playing with her hands.

Finally, she laid down next to you, both staring at the ceiling on your backs.

Another moment of quiet.

“My Favourite colour is red.” You practically whispered, turning your head to look at her. She turned to you and smiled. Nadja seemed so excited yet calm in manner.

“So is mine.” Her grin was spread from ear to ear.

“Are you sure you really want to know about me?” The question seemed to dissipate into thin air as Nadja looked at you sternly.

“Of course I do.” She softened her gaze but her answer felt like an order.

With that, you began to tell her about where you were from and what life as a mortal has been like for you. You told her about your friends and the adventures you’ve been on and your family. Her sudden interest in your life made you feel good.

What felt like minutes was really 2 hours. You glanced at the clock on your nightstand. The sun had long set, it now being 7:30 PM. Nadja lay on her stomach, kicking her feet like a schoolgirl.

“Oh shit- it’s 7:30 already?? Nadja I gotta get to my chores and start helping out-” You started to get up but she pushed you back down with a firm hand.

“Nonsense! I am your Mistress and I say tonight your job is to hang out with me.” She could tell you were slightly puzzled and shocked.

“Bubs it is okkkkkk. You are mine, I get to decide what you do.” Her words made your stomach flutter and your cheeks flush.

“Ok…but what about-“

“Nuh-uh, the others are fine. Like I said, your only task tonight is to be with me.”

A bit of thought and you couldn’t deny her, you smiled, Nadja had been waiting for that. She began to smile back as well.

The thought of talking further about yourself felt exhausting, and at this, you realised you didn’t know a whole lot about Nadja. Obviously, you knew she was a vampire from Antipaxos that was 500 years old, and that she had a husband (Laszlo) and enjoyed pleasure and killing. But what else?

“Nadja?…”

“Yes my darling angel.” She was so trained on you.

“I wanna know more about you.” She stopped kicking her feet. A mixture of disbelief and sorrow crossed her face. You were unsure if you should have said that.

“What- what do you mean?” She tilted her head.

“I mean like- what are your interests? Passions? Beliefs?” As much as you would like to know her answers, you didn’t want to upset Nadja.

She went quiet for a moment.

“No one has ever asked me that before.” She looked at you with wide, sad eyes. It kind of scared you.

“I mean- if you don’t want to tell me or have the others know or just like want to end the convo here thats-“

She now cut you off by grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it. It was your turn to freeze.

“I do want you to know. I just…I just feel like it’s been hundreds of years since anyone has bothered to ask…” Your heart ached. Bits of pain felt like it trickled from her hand to yours like blood down her sleeve.

“Well, I don’t understand why they wouldn’t. You are so interesting and intelligent and cool and prett-“ You stopped yourself. Nadja raised an eyebrow at you.

“No please, go on.” She smirked now grasping your hand a little tighter.

“No, it’s ok!” You squeaked, it hurt a bit but you didn’t mind. You were more scared of her knowing what you felt.

Nadja let go of your hand.

“Well…I guess I really haven’t told anyone mu-“

Just then there is a knock at the door.

“Nadja darling, I know you’re in there. I and the boys need help wi-“

“LASZLO FUCK OFF! I’m busy with y/n tonight so you’ll have to find HELP ELSEWHERE!”

You hear Laszlo sigh on the other side of the door. He knew not to fight her on this. Walking away he calls to the others, “Welp, we are royally fucked.”

You laugh which draws Nadja’s attention back to you. She grins again.

“Do you think we should go and help them?” you questioned.

“No, they’re fineeeee. Where were we…”

And with that, Nadja talked her heart away. And you absorbed every single word.

#nadja x reader #nadja of antipaxos #what we do in the shadows #laszlo cravensworth #nandor the relentless #guillermo de la cruz #colin robinson #nadja wwdits #nandor #guillermo #the guide #laszlo #nadja doll #nadja x y/n

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cosurmqne · 2 months

Text

02 — a short life of trouble

[ RDR2 X fem reader , 2310 words ] — previous ✶

“what were you thinking! bringing another woman in here.” “great, another mouth to feed.” “what if she draws more trouble right to us?”

“SHUT UP! all of you. she needs help. last time i checked half of you wouldn’t be standing here today if it weren’t for us taking your sorry asses in.”

the blood stained stranger was laying down in a bed of rough canvas and animal hide, it’s fabric the softest thing she had ever felt after a month of dirt floors and blankets of pine-needles. the distant voices slowly awoke her mind, her eyes opening carefully as the morning sun stung them with its bright beams. how long had she been asleep? she knew it was morning when she was lifted onto a strangers horse, morning still when she slumped onto the mans back out of exhaustion and defeat, not even caring what would happen to her when she awoke or where he was taking her. and yet here she was, still morning? no, the stiffness of her joints suggest at least a full days rest, her legs wobbling slightly as she turned over and placed them on the soft grass beside her.

her hands travelled to her face, expecting the almost familiar texture of dried blood, crusty and flaky, but was met with her soft skin. the edges of her hair and a few tricky spots still had reminisce of blood she could scrape off with her chipped nails, but it seemed someone had wiped her face clean.

her clothes were different too, the blouse and pants she was wearing a size too big but clean and comfortable, her ripped outfit she last remembered wearing folded neatly at the end of her bed and completely pink. she figured someone had tried to scrub them clean, but the redness was impossible to remove.

“good to see you’re finally awake.”

the sudden closeness of a mans voice made her jump and spin around. she was met with a surprisingly kind face of an older man, smiling cautiously and offering a homemade mug in his left hand, the steam and smell suggesting the rare liquid that was coffee. her mouth watered instantly.

“here, it’s for you.” he moved closer, kneeling down next to her bed and placed the warm mug in her stuff hands. “don’t worry, it wont jump out at ya’”

y/n let a small smile escape her lips, “thank you.” she croaked, her voice straining and making her cough slightly. maybe she had been out for more than a day?

as she sipped her drink and let the coffee warm her from head to toe, the man continued. “my names hosea. i’m … i guess you could say i’m kind of a top man around here. just don’t tell the others i’m really in charge …. HA!” he joked and let out a small chuckle, but the woman just looked at him curiously, seemingly frozen still apart from her arms lifting up and down. he guessed he should change his approach ….

hosea cleared his throat, “ahem, well…. you sure gave us a fright earlier on. all that blood on ya, we’d thought dutch brought back a corpse, with you slumped over and all…” with again no response, he continued. “look miss, we’re good people here. well, not really good, but better than most, i can assure you. why don’t we go somewhere a little more private, you can talk to me. tell me how you got into this mess.”

he stood and offered his arm. to y/n’s surprise, she rose and linked her own. while she should never trust a man so easily, her conscience screaming at her for it. but he seemed kind. honest and trustworthy. human. something she hadn’t seen in a long time. besides, she figured if they had wanted her dead, she would be face down in a river by now…

they walked, making a beeline towards the trees in front of them. “what was your name miss?” hosea asked.

“y/n.” she responded.

with her eyes adjusted, bearings found and legs moving again, she let herself scan the area around her. she was in a camp, one that seemed small but … live in? tents, campfires, horses and even a kitchen of sorts was set up. quite a few people were living here, men, women, even a child? she tried avoided the eye contact of the strangers around her, not knowing what mess she could have landed herself into. it seemed a few had stopped their morning chores for a fleeting moment to get a glimpse at her walking past them, pretending to take no notice of her and continuing on whenever she caught their eye. had they been waiting for her to wake up? she guessed she was a stranger sleeping amongst them, concluding she would be just as curious to get a glance at herself as well.

looking around still, she held the gaze of a familiar face, the one she had once pointed a gun towards and one took her to this place. dutch was his name right? hosea beside her seemed to look his way as well, letting out a single tune whistle and pointing his head towards the forest they were heading too. the dark haired man instantly dismissed the two men he was talking to and started coming their way. it was like a shepards call she thought, a codependent understanding that could only be trained with years of practice.

“here, this is a nice spot. i tend to do a lot of thinking here.” hosea said, leading and sitting them both down to opposite logs on soft grassy ground, much greener than the almost dirt floors back at the camp, untouched and unflattened by consistent steps. it looked out over the lake that surrounded the area, but was still thick with trees and streaked with sunlight peeking through the canopy.

the heavy footsteps of dutch became closer, his voice loud and true, “aaah, our celebrity guest, awake at last.”

as he stood before them, y/n rose upright at once, standing stiff and attentive before she could stop herself. she tried to swallow the familiar feeling of guilt like a rock stuck in her throat. “th… thank you.” she let out, quicker than she was intending. “i’d sure be dead and buried if not for you.”

she felt like this needed to said, right then and there. not totally understanding it herself, but knowing that his actions will forever be a debt she could probably never return. she knew from experience and dread that owing someone an unpayable debt was the worst burden to carry, and a feeling she wanted to loosen as soon as possible. a thanks was a start.

dutch just smiled and chuckled, raising his hands up like he did in the forest on their first encounter, “theres no need for thanks, just … take it a day at a time. at ease.”

y/n sat back down, almost embarrassed by her outburst but distracted when hosea spoke up. “dutch here said you had a run in with some o’driscolls. dealt with them pretty well too, where did you learn to shoot like that?”

the woman swallowed, she figured there was no reason to be coy anymore. a voice in the back of her head was yelling out, what are you doing!? you don’t know these men!? they don’t need to know nothin’!? and yet …. she was almost beyond caring about that now.

“my pa taught me,” she admitted, taken aback already by her honesty. “and my brother. he was a lot older than i am, sharp shooter and kept us out of trouble.”

dutch let out a noise, “tsss, some trouble you must have had. not even half my men here couldn’t kill with such efficiency.”

“well, we had a farm up north, a big property. it wasn’t much, just a few horses to sell and trade but it had been with my family for generations. it was home.” she paused. dutch and his partner were sitting opposite her and staring with unbroken attention, seemingly hanging on every word. it threw her off a little but she continued on. “being isolated up there we were bound to run into trouble, usually just some fool trying to swipe a horse, wolves maybe trying to take one for a meal. nothing unusual, but being able to take care of ourselves was a high priority, and my pa taught us well. he made sure we knew how to handle all kinds of trouble…”

“when my brother went and got himself killed down south in the war, it was me who was left in charge, with my father too old and my mother untrained. we got along just fine, until these men keep knocking at our door. harassing us, showing up constantly, trashing our barns, stealing our horses. they wanted us gone, for what reason i couldn’t say … after a few months it was manageable, i’d shot enough of them to make their appearances less frequent… but…”

she had stopped, her throat closing slightly her but no tears threatened to break free. she was thankful, crying in front of these men seemed like the worst scenario. never again would she let a sign of weakness slip from her. she had done her weeping, was done with meekness and dependency. she could tell dutch sensed that about her, while hosea watched her with concern and understanding, he was smirking slightly, like he was seeing straight through to her core.

“but?” dutch pushed her on.

with a tough swallow, she continued. “but… one day when i was collecting water from our well down by the river, i looked back up the to see a pillar of smoke. thick, grey and as high as i’d ever seen. by the time i ran back and got view of our burning home, our barns were pitch black, the horses aflame and running in every which direction, the air orange and almost unbreathable. when i saw the roof of our house collapse completely, i knew it was over. everything inside was destroyed, my parents included….” she cleared her throat. “i had just raced to our shed and grabbed as many guns as i could carry, when i heard men laughing. all those men, probably twenty, who had been coming up to us for months. all here. i realised they must have all been from some sort of gang, and could tell they’d tried to steal as much as they could from us. i knew we had hardly any money in the house, and by the small bad one of them was holding, they’d only managed to swipe no more than 30 dollars …. all that . my home, my family, everything. taken away for 30 dollars….”

she could feel heat rising through her cheeks, hands clenched into fists without knowing and her voice rising. “i guess they weren’t happy with that and decided to make their exhibition worth their time… their laughing stopped as soon as i started shooting. one by one, not even caring to hide or take cover, just wanting them dead. i needed them all dead. i don’t even know or care to remember what happened. a-mist the flames and gunpowder i one jumped me, but id stabbed with him their own knives. i shot though them all like they were no more than the deer i had killed countless times for supper. like it was a necessity, not a murder.”

“wether they were all dead or ran away or lost in the fires, i’d escaped with nothing but what i had on me. for months i’ve been running, not really sure what to do, where to go. stealing food, money, constantly moving and too scared to fall asleep or stay in one spot for longer than a week… i ran into a few more of those men here and there, they seemed to be scouting me. i learnt that they called themselves the o’driscolls and their leader was furious that a woman had outsmarted his men, that a quick robbery had turned into a slaughter. he wanted me dead. still wants me dead i guess…”

“and, this is where we meet?” dutch said, his arms now rested on his knees and hands fidgeting with the large rings on his hands but full attention of her words.

“yes, i’d been running for four days straight, how far i travelled i’m not too sure but i knew they wanted me dead for good. they’d sent a bunch of those irish bastards to me and i was constantly trying to lose them. i didn’t know if i was alive or dead, asleep or awake, i just shot anything that moved, trusted no one and tried to make it to the next sunrise… and yes, thats where you come into the picture and … i guess, now i’m here.”

“well … hell of a time you’ve had.” hosea finally spoke, his sympathetic gaze surprisingly comforting. when he reached out and cupped his hands on her own, she didn’t resist. “you can let your guard down y/n, you’ll be safe here for however long you need. i assure you, we hate those o’driscolls just as much as you do. for every one of those fools shot dead the dirt beneath us gains another worm!” to this, he chuckled to himself, y/n even letting out a small giggle.

dutch joined in with his deep laugh, “oh yes, you will fit in just fine here miss.” he stood up and gestured to the camp behind him, now full of activity. “this gang can be your home now, we’re all misfits and outlaws, once lost and then found again.”

he looked at her not with hoseas sympathy, but with eyes that assessed and schemed, invasive and sharp.

“yes, i think you’ll be just fine…”

#red dead 2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 x reader #arthur morgan x reader #kieran duffy #dutch van der linde #dutch van der line x reader #rdr2 oneshots #rdr #rdr2 #read dead redemption

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