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fandoms--fluff · 7 months

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Hello friend I was wondering if you could do one more of Hope baby sister we’re Y/n is sick and wake up in the night crying because she is so sick that there parents and uncles are ants found men Y/n sleeping in the chest of Hope

Big Sister's Here

Baby Mikaelson sister reader x Hope Mikaelson

Warnings: none, it's all fluffy

A/n: I'm becoming obsessed with writing baby Mikaelson y/n and big sister Hope

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You rustle around in your crib, you feel weird and don't know why your tummy hurts so much. Tears start falling your cheeks.

Hope stirs awake, hearing crying. It takes her a moment before realizing it's coming from your room, next to hers. Not hearing anyone else, she gets out of her bed and walks over to your room.

She turns the light on, only to see you laid on your back, arms stretched above your head, and tears running down your face. She leans down and picks you up.

As soon as you're in your sister's arms, you nuzzle your head into her shoulder. Your cries lighten, but only by a little. Your tummy is still hurting and you don't know how to tell your big sister.

Hope bounces you lightly in her arms as she walks back into her room. All the adults are obviously asleep and she doesn't want to wake any of them just to ask what to do.

"It's okay. What's wrong?" She softly starts to soothe you. As she runs her vacant hand in circles on your tiny back, you let out tiny hiccups from the crying.

"Did you have a bad dream?...no" Hope talks to you, but really herself since you can only say a few words. If you were to have a bad dream then it would have been small screams that would've woken her up and not just crying.

"Does something hurt?" you perk up at the word hurt. "Oh, what hurts, y/n/n?" she asks softly, hoping that you can give her at least a clue to the answer.

"You can show or tell me, don't worry nothing bad is going to happen, you're safe with me, you're safe with your big sister" She sits down on her bed. The only light source in the room right now is the lamp on her nightstand.

You're sat in Hope's lap, one of her hands supporting your back so you don't fall backward. Trying to think the best you can, being one years old and all, you bring your small, pudgy hand up to your big sister's tummy. You tap it multiple times.

Her eyebrows scrunch up in confusion. "That's my stomach, yes," She says gently.

You then bring your hand back to your own tummy and tap it really lightly, not wanting to make it hurt more. "H-hu..h-hur'...hur'" you try to say.

Hope's eyes widen, realizing what you're trying to tell her. "Oh, your tummy hurts. I'm sorry I couldn't figure that out, sweetheart" She kisses the top of your head.

Is there any medicine she can give you? she thinks. She knows she has some Advil pills for when she's on her period, but she can't give those to you.

"It's going to be okay, your tummy is going to feel better in the morning, I promise, hunny' She lightly presses her hand against your stomach and starts chanting a spell to take any pain away from your stomach. She hopes this will work, she hates to see you in pain.

"You're going to feel all better" Hope finishes the spell. "I think it's time for us to go back to sleep" Your eyes widen at what she says about going to sleep. You immediately cling to her, not wanting to go back into your room and in your crib alone.

"Aw, you want to sleep with me?" She smiles, loving how cute and cuddly you're being. "'ope" you nod your head, snuggling into her warm chest.

"Of course, baby girl." She turns the lamp off before laying back underneath the blankets. You stay attached to her the entire time.

A few minutes later your breathing evens as you doze off. Hope's arms are protectively wrapped around your tiny frame. She follows not so long later into sleep.

"Klaus, do you know where y/n is?" Hayley walks into the library.

"Isn't she in her crib?" Klaus looks over to her. "No, she isn't, and I can't find her anywhere," Hayley says, voice getting distressed.

"Maybe she climbed out and is roaming the city like Batman" Kol smiles from where he's upside down on the couch. His smile disappears quickly when Hayley glares at him with her, mama wolf look.

"So, no one knows where she is?" Klaus stands up from his seat. "She can't be far, it's not like she can crawl yet, right?" Freya walks into the room, having heard everything.

"No, but it doesn't mean something can't happen," Elijah tells their older sister.

"Before all of you blow this out of proportion, have any of you checked Hope's room?" Rebekah raises an eyebrow at her older siblings.

She sighs before leaving the library, walking down the hall to Hope's room, everyone following close behind. She turns the doorknob quietly and walks into the room, along with the others.

They all pause, taking in the sight of you curled up on Hope's chest. You both are sleeping away, oblivious to the crowd gathered at the door.

That is until Hope's eyes open, feeling the other presence in her room. "What are you guys doing?" She asks, tiredly.

"We were worried when we couldn't find your sister in her crib," Klaus tells her, walking over to the bed.

"Oh, yeah, her tummy was hurting, so I took away the pain and then we went back to sleep," she tells them quietly, not wanting to wake you. "And you didn't want to put her back in her crib?" Hayley asks.

"Hey! She didn't want to go back to her room anyway...I just didn't put up a fight" Hope exclaims.

Kol chuckles at her statement, "Shut up" she whines, turning her head back into her pillow, not wanting to explain anything else to them.

Hayley reaches down, about to bring you into her arms. "No," Hope whispers, keeping you clutched to her. Hayley raises an amused eyebrow. "Let us sleep" she tries shooing her family away, which works with all of them except for your guys' parents.

Klaus and Hayley each lay down on either side of you and Hope. Thats how you guys spend your morning until you wake up and manage to also get Hope out of bed. Which surprises your parents greatly on how much of an effect you have on your older sister.

"You're lucky you're cute" She mumbles, begrudgingly picking clothing out of her dresser with you placed on her hip, protectively.

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shivunin · 6 months

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In Peace

(Arianwen Tabris/Zevran Arainai | 1,846 Words | Fluff | AO3 Link | CW: brief references to sex, implied/past suicidal thoughts)

Summary: Zevran and Tabris have developed a nightly routine; it surprises him to realize how much he dislikes the idea of breaking it

When Zevran had first seen Arianwen, they’d been trying to kill each other.

This was not especially odd, he found out later. Statistically speaking, Arianwen was thinking of killing most of the people she met, if she was not already actually attacking them. Zevran was no exception in this; it mattered little that he had been trying to die at the time, and she only obliging his death wish. She had spun through the crowd like dancing death, her face lit with a heady glee. In that moment, Zevran had thought that if he was to die here on some nameless road in Ferelden’s nethers, at least there would be beauty in his death.

Zevran would never have guessed then that she could sleep so sweetly draped across his chest—she had certainly never done so before this night. He certainly would not have guessed that she snored so loudly. It would not have occurred to him to wonder on that first day, Zevran supposed, given that he’d been fighting for his life.

Still—the snoring did come as a surprise. She was usually very quiet when she slept on her side—or perhaps it was simply that her face was closer to his ear now, and thus much louder than he was used to.

His Warden slept with her hair braided, though in a looser plait than she usually wore during the day. Zevran passed a hand over it softly, hoping to wake her enough to make her shift aside. Instead, every muscle in her body that had been soft and liquid went taut at once, entirely alert between one heartbeat and the next.

“Nothing is wrong,” he whispered at once. The alternative was a knife thrown through the wall of his tent, most likely, and he had so recently patched the last hole she’d made.

Arianwen rolled away from him despite his quiet words. When she sat up, her dark silhouette was cut against the lighter blue of his tent, body alert and aware. It was plain that she was listening for some disturbance beyond their tent, so Zevran said nothing more. He propped himself up on his elbows instead, feeling the wash of cooler air against his loose tunic when the blanket fell away from him.

The sky had not lightened outside, but the fire was banked; they were in the deepest part of the night, perhaps an hour or two from the start of her watch. It had become a routine of sorts for her to stay in his tent until then, though she usually returned to her own tent when she was finished. Zevran was not certain if this tradition of hers was some concession to propriety (unlikely) or the delicate sensibilities of some of their traveling fellows (even less likely) or if she simply had no interest in waking up beside him when dawn came.

Knowing her as he did now, he supposed it was most likely some fourth reason that had nothing to do with any of the other things. Perhaps she lovingly polished each of her blades alone in her tent until daybreak. He would not put it past her. But, he realized as she moved to stand, this routine might be more easily broken than expected.

And…perhaps he had grown more attached to it than he might have thought.

“Wait,” he said, his voice abrupt in the quiet of the night. Arianwen paused on her knees.

“What?” she whispered. “I thought you were sleeping.”

Zevran found her hand in the dark on the second try. It was braced on her knee, but she allowed him to pull it away and press it to his mouth instead. Could he tell her not to go? It didn’t seem right, but he could not immediately determine why. She had surprised him by staying when he’d made it clear he had no interest in lovemaking tonight. They had spent plenty of nights together and apart since they’d begun doing whatever it was they were doing. None of the nights together had not featured some sort of…well.

It surprised him now to realize that it had been pleasant to feel her against him as he’d fallen asleep, even if he would have gladly gone without the noise.

“I do seem to recall you sleeping, too,” he told her. “Quite comfortably, in fact.”

He could feel her expression in the silence that followed. It would be the one in which her brows furrowed and she looked at him sidelong, as if trying to weigh whether he was making a joke or not.

“You woke me. Did you not…” she trailed off, taking her hand from his. Zevran peered into the darkness, making no sense of her expression and trying nonetheless.

“I did not mean to,” he told her truthfully.

She moved—he could not see how—and a moment later he felt her breath on his cheek.

“What do you need?” she asked.

Zevran turned his head, nose brushing against the curve of her cheek. Her face was the only part of her not obviously scarred, he had found. Her cheek was very soft against his skin, the fine hairs there tickling softly. When he leaned his cheek against hers, she didn’t waver an inch.

“There is nothing that I need,” he told her, emphasizing the last word, “but I would very much like for us to go back to sleep. Together.”

Slowly, one of her hands came to rest on his knee. Her index finger tapped once, twice. This was a tell: she was thinking very hard. Zevran privately thought that he might be the only one in the world who would know when she was bluffing at cards, should she ever play them. Her face was impossible to read at first glance, but the rest of her body spilled her secrets easily enough. Months on the road had taught him this as they’d taught him everything else he knew about her.

Tap-tap. Tap-tap. Some decision was being made, some calculus of factors entirely beyond him. She had done this before she’d told him to keep his earring, too. The verdict had not been in his favor then. He wondered if he would fare so poorly now, too.

Zevran thought of the weight of her body over his chest, of the way she’d looped leg and arm over him while they’d slept. He thought of the ragged sounds she made in her sleep when the nightmares came, of the way she wrapped herself around him when the foul dreams woke her in the night.

He thought of how the leather and steel scent of her comforted him when his own dark dreams paced close and set shining teeth at his throat. The smell of leather reminds me of home, he’d told her months ago. It reminded Zevran of her now, too, until the three were all twined together as one. He did not want her to go—not yet. He had grown accustomed to sleeping beside her until the moment before she needed to leave.

“Arianwen,” he said, and felt the falter in her tapping. “Mi vida. Come to bed.”

Her sigh rustled his hair.

“I should never have told you I like the way you say my name,” she told him, but he could hear that he’d swayed her already. Only a little more and they could go back to sleep. A few hours more—only a few, but they mattered. He wanted every single moment he could coax out of her. He wasn’t above fighting dirty for them.

“Surely you do have no desire to lace up your boots and stumble through the dark of the whole clearing only to climb into your cold bedroll alone,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her cheek. “My dearest Arianwen. Surely not that.”

The blankets over him shifted when she slid beneath them again. The tip of her braid trailed over his arm. A victory—and it felt like one, for all that it had been a battle of words rather than blades.

“If you are sure I won’t keep you up,” she said doubtfully. “I’ll stay. Until watch.”

Keep him up—was that what she’d been worried about?

Zevran frowned as she settled in beside him again, less than an inch separating their bodies. He lowered himself back onto his bedroll and reached for her hip.

“Come closer,” he told her. “It is cold.”

Tabris came, settling against him stiffly, then relaxing by degrees. Zevran kissed the top of her head and she relaxed further still. After a moment, she tugged the blankets more fully over both of them.

“You wanted me to stay just so you could be warm,” she murmured, though there was no heat to the words. Already, he could feel her slipping into sleep. She fell asleep easily enough, his Warden, though she woke at the slightest provocation. Zevran ignored the surge of affection at the thought, though it grew more difficult to disregard when she slipped an arm around his waist.

“Yes, of course,” he agreed. She made a soft noise, rousing at the words.

“Say’t again,” Arianwen said.

“Say what?” he asked.

Arianwen squeezed him slightly and tucked herself more fully against his shoulder. There was a scar beneath the place where her ear rested, a very thin line just below the joint of his shoulder. She’d stabbed him there all those months ago when they’d first met. One evening, when they’d been dozing in the afterglow, he had casually pointed the silvered line of scar tissue out to her. Tabris had scowled at him and gone all stiff—he still had no idea why—and she’d made a point of not holding him like this for weeks afterward. What a relief it had been when she’d forgotten again.

By day, she was quick and dangerous and sharp. He liked that about her, he’d found. But he liked her like this, too, somnolent and warm against him in the night. This—her head on his shoulder, her arm around his waist—this was his alone.

There had been very, very few things in Zevran’s life that had belonged to him alone. He had gone without sleep, without affection, without comfort for so long that he knew better than to disregard such things when they were offered openly. No—such things were the sort one held onto with both hands, even if it took some extra coaxing in the dead of night.

“You know what,” she told him.

Zevran smiled to himself, allowing his eyes to slip closed again.

“Goodnight, Arianwen,” he said.

“”Night, Zevran,” she echoed, her voice slow. “Until watch.”

“Until watch,” he agreed, and paused. “Arianwen.”

She made a soft sound, neither sigh nor purr nor moan, and melted against him. Zevran lay awake for some time after, his eyes shut tight, his hands as still as he could make them. She did not snore, and he did not wake her.

Tabris’s watch came and went.

They both slept soundly through it.

(For Day 5 of Zevwarden Week: Bodies and Minds. Thanks again to @zevraholics for organizing!)

#zevwarden week 2023 #zevran arainai #arianwen tabris #zevran x warden #zevwarden #zevran x f!warden #zevran x tabris #bodies and minds #fluff #snuggling #implied/past suicidal thoughts #hmm guess the theme for this week is #' when we met i had no idea how much i'd love you and now you are a part of me'#i didn't do it on purpose but there it is!

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