#meanwhile I’m like ‘is that. is that a sore throat??? …no. no I’m good. am I good??’ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rebrandedbard · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! Can I ask for 30. “It’s not what it looks like…” from the drabble list?

Oh, it’s you! Welcome back! Here for another order at McDrabble? Very well then, I am obliged to use the good serving platter for the sake of continuity:

30: “It’s not what it looks like…”

wc: 1991 (Wow! That’s a year!)

No Modesty Among Thieves

Geralt finds Jaskier tied up in their room after returning to the inn and all their things have been stolen. He has an unexpected family reunion when he goes to find the burglar.

Kidnappers would have been easier, Geralt thought, than dealing with burglars. Had Jaskier been kidnapped, someone would have left a note and ransom. They would be waiting somewhere easy to find. A burglar did not want to be found, which meant he’d have to track them down, which meant more work. He’d had a long day and all he wanted to do was crawl into bed. The moment he’d opened the door of their room, those lovely plans of rest and relaxation had flown out the window, and he was suddenly wide awake, his heart racing, for he found Jaskier tied to the bed frame, completely bare, blindfolded, with a gag in his mouth. He gaped a moment before the smell of fear hit him, then he hurried to the bed and tugged the blindfold from Jaskier’s eyes.

Jaskier sagged with relief at the sight of him. As soon as Geralt removed the gag, the words came flooding out. “It’s not what it looks like…” he sighed, knowing very well what Geralt’s first impression must have been. He shifted uncomfortably, glad of the pillow thrown over his lap. At least the burglar had been thoughtful enough to provide that before clearing out.

“What happened?” Geralt asked. As he worked the knots above Jaskier’s head, he cast eyes about the room. It was completely empty; all of their belongings had been taken.

“Burglar caught me in the bath, blindfolded me, tied me up, and gagged me. Took all of our stuff and booked it.” He rubbed his wrists and shook them out to get the feeling into his arms again. “I’m so glad you got home when you did; my arms just about lost all feeling. I’m already sore from the fight with the gargoyle last week. The second-hand blast knocked me halfway across the room, remember? Burned the doublet right off my back! Singed my shirt, too.”

“I remember,” Geralt replied. He inspected Jaskier’s arms with care. “Are you hurt?” he asked.

“Only my pride. I thought I could tell you from the sound of your footsteps, but evidently, I was wrong. The way the fiend came striding in here, confident as anything like they belonged—well! I thought it could only be you,” he grumbled. “Anyone else would have tried to sneak up behind me instead. They strode right in! And I know, I know; I ought to have kept the door locked, but I swear, Geralt, that I had locked it. It’s a faulty lock, that’s what I think. This inn is cheap and ready to fall to pieces when the wind next blows, and that’s the truth.”

Geralt tossed the blanket over Jaskier’s shoulders for modesty’s sake. “Stay here. I’ll take care of it.” He sniffed the air and announced, “There’s only one trail; pretty strong, too. Likely another patron somewhere down the hall.”

It was an easy game, stealing from other travellers. There were plenty of rooms to hide in. All one had to do was pretend to flee out the door, hood down, pass a few witnesses, then sneak back to their room calm as anything. It was a play Geralt had encountered before.

His brow creased as he scented the room again. It smelled … familiar. He crouched, following the scent from the bed over to the bath, to the corner where he’d left their bags. Meanwhile, Jaskier stumbled out of the bed, the blanket wrapped clumsily around him. He peeked beside the bed and circled the tub. With a huff, he dropped onto the bed once more and sat grumbling.

“Might have at least left the pants, if not my trousers. Not any money in selling those. Rotten thieving bastard.”

Geralt turned to look at him. “They took your clothes?” he said.

“Not that I blame them, really. People are trying to get in my pants all the time,” Jaskier quipped. He resumed his sulking after when he considered how much they’d cost him to buy in the first place.

The smell was stronger as soon as Geralt opened the door. He groaned, the pieces clicking into place neatly. “I’ll be right back,” he growled.

The door slammed shut behind him as Geralt stalked down the hall. He followed the scent to the every end and thrust the door open. And there the prick was, sitting on the floor, Jaskier’s stupid hat on his head, flipping through Jaskier’s notebook with one hand and helping himself to one of Geralt’s dried apple slices with the other. Lambert didn’t even bother to look up as he entered, merely smiling as he popped the slice into his mouth.

“Still hiding your snacks among your potion kit,” Lambert said. “A wonder your bard hasn’t found them yet. His smell is all over your things; one would think he’s always in and out, fetching things for you.”

“Pack it up. I’m kicking you out of here as soon as you’ve helped me carry this shit back.”

Lambert ignored him, rolling over on his back as he flipped to a page closer to the front of the notebook. “Is this one about you? ‘What amorous sight I scowling see, the sweet delights he flares in me, with eyes the gods have wrought of gold, for men to weep and thus behold?’”

Geralt snatched the book from his hands, ears burning hot. “You’ve no right to be prying into others’ things,” he snarled.

“Ah, so you haven’t read his poetry, I take it.”

Lambert hovered over Geralt’s shoulder as Geralt started shoving things into Jaskier’s bag. He grabbed the hat from Lambert’s head and gathered it with the rest, careful not the bend the feather. Of course he hadn’t gone snooping. Jaskier’s notebook was private and Geralt respected privacy, unlike some who felt entitled to anything not bolted and locked.

“How did you like my present?” Lambert asked, flopping onto the bed. He raised his arms above his head in a mockery of the position he’d left Jaskier in. “Oh, what an amorous sight!” he cried, smirking. “Did you weep? I know you to be a weeper; heard enough whores gossip about the white-haired witcher crying in their arms after a tumble. Or did you not unwrap my present? He smelled pretty good for a minute there—aroused by danger, is he?”

Geralt picked up a pillow and smacked him with it. “Don’t go sniffing my bard,” he said.

For once, Lambert made no retort. He only raised one cocky brow at him and smiled.

Geralt found Jaskier’s clothes folded messily on a chair. He put them away carefully in Jaskier’s bag piece by piece. He was about to put the chemise away when Lambert plucked it from him. He flapped it in the air, gave it a light sniff and said, “Kind of smells like you, you know. You two share a bed or something?”

The speed with which Geralt snatched it back was all the answer Lambert needed. In addition, Geralt took back his bag of apple slices. He shoved them in a bag and collected the rest of their things. Last of all, he slung Jaskier’s lute over his shoulder.

Before leaving, Geralt seized Lambert’s own bag and stole from it a package of dried cod. Lambert hated cod. And Geralt knew why he had it. “Stay out of my room and away from Jaskier,” he said, “Or I’ll find your cat and shave him.” He tossed the bag back at Lambert and slammed the door in his gaping face.

The very first thing Jaskier did upon Geralt’s return was check his lute for damage, forgoing his awkward wrap in his hurry to get to it. His cry of relief filled the air and he cradled the instrument close. Geralt waited until Jaskier had put it safely away in its case before tossing his trousers at his head. Jaskier laughed and hugged them close, but rather than dress, he resumed his bath, the water warmed by courtesy of Geralt for his troubles. Geralt sat on the other side of the room, reordering their things as he told Jaskier the truth behind his unpleasant encounter.

Dinner was ordered to their room a half hour later, an apology sent along with it in the form of two baked pears. They ate it together on the floor, Jaskier in a towel, and Geralt kept his eyes on his food, trying in vain to forget the bit of poetry Lambert had sung for him.

“I’ll have to repay him one of these days and run his clothes up a pole,” Jaskier said. “If he’s ever in Oxenfurt, be prepared to spot them flapping below the university’s flag.”

“You’d get nowhere near them,” Geralt replied, cutting himself a bite of pear.

“I don’t know. He seemed eager enough to get my clothes off earlier. Should be easy to tempt him to do it again, then scoop his up while he sleeps.”

Geralt quickly abandoned his pear, apatite gone. He offered Jaskier his plate and returned to his organizing.

After eating, Jaskier stood. He stretched and dropped his hands to his hips, then swayed back to where he’d left his trousers. As he dressed, he looked around, humming to himself.

“Geralt?” he called. “Do you know what became of my undershirt?”

“Lambert doesn’t have it,” Geralt answered.

“Fuck, did he lose it? I haven’t got one spare.”

After another minute of rummaging, Geralt cleared his throat. “You can wear one of mine,” he offered. He produced a large black shirt and held it out to Jaskier at arm’s length.

Jaskier beamed and made a grab for it. “You’re a dear! I shall not wander cold and bare on the road, thanks to your generosity.” He pulled it over his head and smoothed it down. “Hm, very worn and soft. It’s quite comfortable, actually. You sure you don’t mind?”

“Can’t have you walking around half naked,” Geralt grunted.

“Quite right. It may take some time to get to a decent tailor. Be warned: by then I may be disinclined to return it to you. You know how attached I get to my clothes.”

Geralt shrugged. “I can get another,” was the only reply he offered.

Jaskier smiled and bounced happily into bed. “In that case, say your goodbyes now. I’ve never owned anything black but for my hat—it’s quite an attractive color. I’m sure I look as raffish as you! Perhaps more so for the novelty of it. What do you think?”

Whatever it was that Geralt thought, Jaskier was not to know. Geralt gave no answer the next morning, even as Jaskier pranced in front of him, fishing for a compliment. Geralt kept his opinion buried in his throat, almost as secret as his bag of dried apples. And tucked beneath them, he kept another secret folded neatly at the very bottom of his bag. He’d forgotten it in his haste to leave Lambert’s room that night. But Jaskier looked well in his shirt. So the chemise remained where it was, tucked away. After all, if Jaskier intended to keep his, it was only a fair trade.

Jaskier danced another turn in front of him and bowed, the shirt billowing at the end of his arms. He stood upright once more and posed. “Come now, Geralt. You’ve got to admit it makes for a pleasant change.” He flicked the end of one feather from his hat and winked. “What say you? I think we go perfectly together.”

Geralt looked at him, bathed in the early morning light, the very picture of radiance. He nodded, giving Jaskier a small smile. “We do,” he whispered, so soft that no human could ever hear.

“Did you say something?”

“No,” Geralt replied, a startled blink. “Nothing.”

Jaskier looked at him a moment, then shrugged, striding the path ahead. They would get there, he thought privately to himself. They had all the time in the world.

Send me a drabble prompt!

#my fic #drabbles #witcher #the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #lambert #you know the drill I don't beta #delighted to use this silly butler image again #my blog comes with lore #once more I ask you to enjoy your meal

290 notes · View notes

owl-with-a-pen · 3 years ago

Note

brainy or nia try on karas glasses one day and kara realizes that they were brenda/brandon?

- Oh my god, yes! Thank you for the prompt. x

“No, no,” Alex said decisively. “It’s been years and I still don’t get it. How the hell do glasses make it impossible for people to recognise you? I’d know you from anywhere.”

Nia grinned from across the table, lifting her drink to her lips as Alex pinched Kara’s cheek, only to be batted away by her little sister a second later.

“Okay,” Kara said with a snort. “Your next round is gonna be water shots.” She turned her head from the table, making a show of searching the bar. “Where’s Al?”

“Oh, you know he heads out back the second this party rolls in,” Kelly said with an impish smile, raising her own glass. She took Alex’s hand before she could pester Kara any further, winding their fingers firmly together. “Although, I have to agree with the water.”

“Hydration would appear useful at this stage,” Brainy added with a sage nod. “She may also benefit from lining her stomach with something a little more substantial.”

Nia grinned, leaning back against Brainy’s chest. “Is that your not-so-subtle hint that you want more onion rings?”

She’d perched herself on the edge of Brainy’s stool some time into the evening; her smile widened when she felt his hands link around her front in response. “Sometimes, multiple issues can call for a single solution,” Brainy pointed out, tucking his face into her hair. “What is the saying? Two birds, one stone?” Nia's face warmed when Brainy’s lips traced idly along the side of her jaw.

Kara grinned. “Well, hey, I’m not gonna say no to more onion rings.”

It was fair to say that they’d all had a few drinks between them by now, although Kelly and Alex were strictly drinking from the human menu. Things always got a little whacky with alien grade alcohol, and despite her half-Naltorian genetics, Nia had barely been able to stomach a single sip of Brainy’s drink of choice. It suited his tolerance level far better, and made for a slower automatic response for his body to factor out the alcohol and sober him up. If his sudden confidence with intimacy in a public environment was anything to go by, Nia figured it was definitely working.

Nia knew Kara was drinking something similar to Brainy, although her Kryptonian biology made her far more resilient against its contents. She wasn’t even slurring.

Meanwhile, Nia was feeling all kinds of warm inside. Although, Brainy’s hold on her was probably a major factor in that.

It had felt like forever since they’d last gone out like this, and from the recent stress they’d all been under, it wasn’t exactly surprising that they’d found their way to Al’s bar. Plus, after the number of times they’d saved this place from one catastrophe or another, they got some incredibly generous discounts even on some of the rarer beverages. It was just unfortunate that Alex’s human tolerance really wasn’t matching up. And, considering Kelly was still on her first drink, she was currently the only person everyone was sorely worried about getting home safely that night.

With that in mind, Nia was just about to suggest heading up to the bar to go order, when Alex made her move, whipping her hand out quick enough to snatch Kara’s glasses straight from her face, balancing them across her nose.

She turned to Kelly immediately, staring at her levelly. “Well?” she asked expectantly. "How do I look?”

“It’s like looking at a total stranger,” Kelly deadpanned. She smirked, leaning in closer. “Although, they do make you kinda mysterious.”

Alex’s smile broadened. “Oh really?”

“My turn!” Nia chirped, plucking the glasses from Alex’s face. She rested her elbows on the table, propping her chin up with her hands the moment she had the glasses on. She narrowed her eyes, testing out her new perspective. As anticlimactic as it was, nothing really changed. It was just like staring through two pieces of clear glass. Nia pouted. She supposed it wasn't unexpected - that was exactly what she was doing, after all.

“It’s weird being able to see clearly while wearing someone’s else’s glasses,” Nia mused, playing around with the glasses’ temples, wiggling them up and down in front of her face. “Has anyone who didn’t know your secret ever done this before?” She jerked her head up, snapping her fingers. “Ooh, I know, I bet you just tell them you both need the same prescriptions. Am I right, or am I right?”

Kara didn’t answer.

“...Kara?”

When Nia turned, she realised that Kara was staring directly at her, a half-stunned daze in her eyes.

“What, did the alcohol finally kick in?” Nia prodded good-naturedly, only for Kara to reach out suddenly, taking the glasses away from her. “Hey! I was using those!”

Kara remained silent. Instead, with unnerving intensity, she came forward, slipping the glasses onto Brainy’s face. Brainy jerked from the unexpected contact, lifting them away from his nose as though they'd burned. He blinked quickly in affront, eyeing Kara suspiciously. “What was that for?” he asked.

“It was you two,” Kara said mildly; her voice sounded far too calm for comfort, like she was on the verge of a full-blown freak out. “All those years ago, in Midvale. It was you.”

Nia spluttered at the exact same moment as Brainy. She snapped her head towards him desperately. “What?” she asked, registering the panic in Brainy’s eyes that she knew was reflected identically in her own. “No—what—no?” She dug her hand into her boyfriend’s shoulder, squeezing tight. “Do you know what she’s talking about?”

“I have no idea what you are- what she’s talking about-” Brainy snorted defensively. “Do-do you?”

Nia nudged him nervously, eyes wide. “I just said I didn’t, genius.”

“...Right,” Brainy said quickly, clearing his throat. He raised his voice, turning back to Kara. “Two admissions though! Thus further proving that we have no idea what you are talking—”

But, Kara was still staring, a cold glare of certainty in her eyes. “I’d know that scrambling for an excuse anywhere,” she said, taking Brainy’s hands and guiding the glasses back into place over the bridge of his nose. She met no resistance this time, Brainy was far too busy gaping at her. “Brendan.” She turned to Nia accusingly. “Brenda.” Her lips split into a pained smile. “Rao- I thought you two were hiding something, but I was willing to accept it, because... I thought you were lost.”

“In our defence, we sorta were,” Nia admitted sheepishly. “The crash wasn’t part of the plan.”

It was Brainy’s turn to nudge her. “Nia.”

“Give it up, Brainy.” Nia cringed. “We’re caught.”

Kara ran her hands through her hair, shaking her head in bewilderment. “What were you guys even doing there? When did this even happen for you?”

“When you were in the Phantom Zone,” Nia said slowly, ducking her head.

“We needed your DNA,” Alex said softly. It sounded as though the recent commotion had done a good job at sobering her up. “To track you down.”

“It was thanks to these two that we were able to save you at all,” Kelly added.

Something crossed Kara’s expression then, but it was so quick that Nia barely caught it. All she knew was that in that moment, Kara looked entirely vulnerable. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked weakly.

Brainy swallowed hastily. “Had you known our true identities in 2009, it would have caused ramifications in the timeline that could have irrevocably changed the future.”

“I don’t mean then,” Kara said sharply, attention snapping to Brainy. Her expression fell. “Why not when I came back?”

“It didn’t seem… necessary,” Brainy said uncomfortably. Nia felt his grip tighten back around her and ran her hand across his arm, squeezing gently.

Kara scoffed, folding her arms. “Not necessary? You guys were in my past—you saved my life, and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“So much happened,” Nia said carefully. “Kara, we didn’t want to stress you out any more than you already had been.”

“Come here,” Kara said suddenly.

Nia blinked her surprise, catching Brainy’s eyes quickly for confirmation. Hesitantly, Brainy nodded, unlocking his arms from around Nia’s waist. Nia slipped from the stool, stepping towards her alongside Brainy.

They stared at her unsurely for all of two seconds before Kara came forward, swooping them both into the most intense super hug Nia thought either of them had ever experienced.

Nia gasped for breath, wrapping her free arm automatically around Kara’s back. The brush of Brainy’s fingers confirmed to her that he had done just the same.

“I never thought I’d get a chance to say this,” Kara murmured into the space between them. “But, thank you. Both of you, for everything that you did.”

“For... saving your life?” Brainy asked, voice muffled with confusion. “You’re... very welcome?”

Kara laughed, pressing her face into his hair. “Not that. Okay, well, of course that. But,” She sighed, drawing away again, her hands still locked tightly against each of their arms, “you both came to me at a time where I was questioning so much. My future, my identity, my place on Earth. I was hurting, in more ways I ever let on. And without you two—I don’t know what I might have done differently.”

Nia smirked. “Wait…” She turned her head towards Brainy. “Does that mean we were always meant to travel back to 2009?”

“Pre-destined time travel.” Brainy pondered on that thought for a long moment, his lips twitching into a smile of his own. He shrugged. “I suppose stranger things have happened.”

“You did crash, though,” Alex pointed out from across the table.

Brainy shot her a glare.

“Destiny,” Kelly cut in, sighing dreamily. “I like that, though.”

Nia knocked Brainy’s arm playfully. “Just like how you coming to this time gave you the chance to live freely. With us.” Nia squeezed her boyfriend's hand secretively before she turned back to Kara, smile softening. “Maybe we gave that same chance to you, too.”

“Thank you,” Kara said again. She blinked, wiping quickly at her face where tears were near approaching. “I- I don’t even think just saying that cuts it.”

Nia's smile widened mischievously. “Hey, does that mean the next round isn’t on us?”

Brainy raised a finger in consideration. “I believe tap water is on the house, anyway.”

“Hey, no water,” Alex shot back. “And you guys are not getting out of shots that easily.”

They all laughed at that. And, just like that, Nia felt as though an invisible tension that had been tethering them together had finally loosened.

She smiled as she re-joined her family back at the table, hand-in-hand with Brainy.

For the first time in a long time, it really felt like everything was going to be okay.

94 notes · View notes

weelittleweasley · 4 years ago

Text

Muggle Music | Draco x Reader

Prompt: As a muggle born Hufflepuff you find comfort in your muggle music and books when you are feeling anxious or insecure. Although Draco has been known to have a distaste for muggles or of muggle descent, however you when it comes to you, his opinions change.

Warnings: angst, fluff

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Hi all! So sorry I haven’t been as active this weekend. I took the time to relax and have a little fun and unwind before things get crazy work wise with me. Hopefully I’ll be back to pumping out fics again by tomorrow!

You delicately place the record on your player that is perched happily on top of your dresser as music starts to play as the record spins. The sounds of the familiar verses and chorus melt away any anxieties that were plaguing you through the day. Stevie Nicks’s voice washed over you as you allowed your body to sway gently to the music.

Being muggle born wasn’t something you normally worn with a badge of pride at school. You were a little embarrassed that you never grew up around magic and its brilliance, rather you grew up with the mundaneness that was being ordinary for so long. But nothing could quite cheer you up like listening to muggle music or reading a good book that your mother bought from the book store. It was simple, but it never failed to make you feel at home, swallowed with warmth and comfort through these tiny vessels of your muggle upbringing.

Aside from not growing up with magic and missing out on the portion, you were also embarrassed of being a muggle especially because of who you were dating. Everyone and their mother knew that the Malfoy lineage was strict about marrying pure and only having children that would be pure bloods. You had been dating Draco for only a couple of months, but you did feel insecure about his dating history and how it has only been with pure bloods. You were the first to break that streak. Draco didn’t expect to fall for you, but when it happened, it happened fast and every thought he had about you not being a pureblood washed away. But there was always that little voice inside his head that spoke, What would mother and father think about this?

You swayed to Fleetwood Mac, trying to keep your negative thoughts at bay about how scared you were that Draco was going to break up with you because of your blood status. Earlier that day you had heard Pansy Parkinson gossiping to her posse about how Draco deserved to be with a pure blood and not some “mudblood” like you were. When you heard the words fall from her mouth, you wanted to cry. She was right. Draco deserved someone who would make his family proud and you would not do that.

You didn’t even notice the tears falling from your eyes until they ran across your lips, the salty taste on your tongue. Rhiannon softly played in the background as you wiped your tears away with the backs of your hand. This was such a silly thing to cry over, but you couldn’t help but feel the way you did. Your insecurities were getting the best of you again.

Suddenly, a gentle few knocks come from your door. You suck up your sniffles and wipe what remains of the tears away. Glancing in the mirror, you check your appearance before opening the door. And there he stood. Draco in his Slytherin robes, his white blonde hair combed back, and sneaky little smile. He pulled you in for a tight hug by your contrasting Hufflepuff robes, breathing your scent in as you relaxed under his touch. “Good afternoon, darling,” Draco squeezes you, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“Hi,” you mutter into his chest before pulling away, letting him inside your room.

Draco enters, plopping his bag down at your desk. He contorts his face and says, “What is that?” as if to be disgusted by the music you are playing. Your heart sinks gently into your stomach as his face looks confused.

You feel like your insecurities are now sticking out like a sore thumb. The things that bring you comfort make Draco contort with disgust. “Oh, sorry,” you quickly rush to your record player and turn off Fleetwood Mac as Landslide gets cut off. Too bad, that was your favorite song on that album. “It was my music from home. Mum gave me a few albums to take with me if I ever needed a taste of home. I didn’t know you were coming over or else I wouldn’t have played it.”

Draco suddenly grows disappointed in himself. Something you had loved so dearly and had such fond memories attached to was something he was taught to deplore. His disgust with all things doing with muggles made you upset because you were muggle born. Which in turn, meant he was supposed to hate where you came from. How could hate someone as lovely, considerate, and gentle as you? It would be impossible. “Don’t apologize. It’s your room, you play whatever you want. You can keep playing it if you want to,” he urges, hoping that you’ll play the music again just so he can see you happy, dancing along to whatever rhythm played from the odd machine you tinkered with.

Shaking your head, you insist, “No, I don’t want to play it anymore. It’ll just make me sad.” Sad because you miss home and sad because you know that Draco and you come from two separate worlds and he hated yours. Or so you thought. You chose to ignore the sad smile on Draco’s face. “Let’s change the subject, shall we?”

As you talked to Draco about your plans for the upcoming weekend in Hogsmeade, he couldn’t help but be distracted by his own thoughts. He hated knowing that you were uncomfortable and insecure of your muggle history. He hated that he was conditioned from such a young age to have a distaste in those things thanks to his father’s upbringing. Draco’s heart strings were strung any time he noticed you shift in your seat when someone bought up not being of pureblood descent. You would get very quiet and minutes later excuse yourself to go somewhere else away from the people who had insulted you in passing. He knew he wanted to make it up to you, but it was just a matter of how he would do it.

----

A few days later, you parked yourself at a table in the library, studying and doing homework quietly, scribbling down in your notebook every once in a while. As you jot down notes, you didn’t notice Pansy pass your table. “Studying hard mudblood?” she coos sarcastically at you.

“Please leave me alone, Pansy,” you quietly plead. You just needed to study. That was all. You didn’t need to be reminded of all of your insecurities in the middle of the library for everyone around you to watch your discomfort.

Pansy leans on the table. “Why? Because Draco can’t defend you?” she spits. “I’m still shocked that he’s with a loathsome creature like yourself. Aren’t you embarrassed? You’ll never quite live up to his or his parents expectations? I mean, what’s going to happen when you meet his parents? Let’s see if you even make it up to that point.”

Tears start to prick in your eyes as you attempt to swallow the lump in your throat. “Go away, Pansy,” you speak gently, no malice in your voice even though you had wished there would be.

“Am I talking about a sensitive topic?” she asks, knowing damn well what sees doing. “Admit it, (Y/N). You’re no good for Malfoy. You and your little muggle music and muggle books. You’ll never be enough for him.”

With that, you gather all of your stuff and dash out of the library, the laughs of Pansy echoing in the library. As you turn the corner, you bump into the person you wished most not to. “Hi, love,” Draco speaks, happy to see you until he sees the hot tears streaming down your face. “Hold on, wait a minute, what’s wrong?” he grabs your arms, looking at you in the eyes.

You shake your head, “I have to go.” You push past your boyfriend, running out of the library, completely horrified of what just went down. Running down the halls and up the stairs, you try to avoid the stares of concerned students and passing, (Y/N), are you okays. You just wanted to get back to your room.

Opening the door with a swing and then slamming it shut, you inhale a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. You were away from Pansy now and her torturous comments. Looking to your desk, you know exactly what you needed no matter how much it reminded you of your past. You grabbed another record from your stash that you tucked away in your drawer and plucked Queen from the pile. As you placed it on your record player, the sounds of the Jazz album filling your dormitory, sending soothing waves of comfort through you, drying your tears instantly.

Meanwhile in the library, Draco marched over to Pansy, steam bellowing from his ears. Pansy’s smile fell as she saw the pissed boy. “I don’t know what you said, but to be quite frank, Parkinson, I’m not surprised it was something rude and selfish, much like yourself,” Draco spit at her.

Pansy rolls her eyes, “Come on, Draco. You know better than anyone that you don’t belong with a mudblood. You need to stick with your own kind.”

Draco’s blood is boiling. “First of all, you know shit about what is best for me, Pansy, so I’d suggest keeping your fat nose out of my business. Second, muggle born or not, (Y/N) is a brilliant, beautiful person who is a better witch than you will ever be. If I even sense you close to (Y/N) again, consider yourself done for,” Draco scolds Pansy as her face turns parchment white.

After his little meltdown, Draco leaves the library. On a mission to find you and comfort you after what just happened.

In your room, you lay on your bed, listening to your muggle music, as you glide your fingers over the binding of your favorite muggle book, The Scarlet Letter. Maybe Pansy was right? You should just stick to your muggle things and stay away from what is muggle born. It would be for the best.

Your thoughts are disturbed when you hear a knock at the door. You groan, emerging from your position on your bed. The door opens and there’s Draco who wastes no time in scooping you up in a hug. “Don’t listen to her,” he speaks into your hair. “She has no idea what she’s talking about. She is jealous.”

“But she’s right, Draco. I’m a dumb muggle born who doesn’t belong in your world. You were destined to hate me and everything I come from. It should stay that way before things get too complicated,” you try to reason with him as Draco shakes his head in disbelief. “You’ve only dated purebloods, Draco. Ever since we got here, you’ve dated purebloods and purebloods only. I haven’t dated anyone and Merlin, it’s year six! Now, my first ever boyfriend is not supposed to like people like me.”

Draco’s heart breaks hearing you talk about yourself like this. “You mean someone who is considerate? Someone who is compassionate? Someone who loves people for their hearts?” he retorts as you ignore him. “(Y/N), I don’t care if you are pureblood or not. I want you and you only.”

Your heart should be swelling with joy, but it only makes it break. “I need to be alone right now, Dray. Please,” you whisper, holding your face in your hands. “Just leave me be for right now.”

Everything is screaming for Draco to stay and work this out with you, but he knows you need some space. He just shakes his head and leaves your room sadly. When the door closes, you don’t hesitate in letting the tears fall again.

-----

Potions class was finally dismissed as you walked alone in the halls, trying to distance yourself from everyone, to scurry away in your room, curling up into your bed while listening to more muggle music, wishing you were home with your mother and father and siblings.

Draco hadn’t come to talk to you since the library incident two days prior. He didn’t even bother trying to find you when your class took the weekend trip to Hogsmeade. You figured that he was out of your life for good and no matter how much you wanted him to stay, you knew it was best for the both of you. The relationship wouldn’t have worked out anyway. It was best for you to part separate ways.

As you approach your dormitory, you hear the faint chorus of Paul Anka’s Put Your Head On My Shoulder coming from the other side of your door. Your eyebrows furrow. Did I leave the record player on? I don’t even have that record though? You push the door open to reveal a Draco standing the middle of your room, Paul Anka playing on your record player. “What are you doing?” you ask him right off the bat.

Draco has a small smile on his lips. “Doing what I should have done when I asked you to be mine,” he claims as he grabs your hands. “When we took the trip to Hogsmeade this weekend, I bought some muggle records they had in the back of the shoppe as well as some new books for your collection,” he points to three large stacks of records and books on your desk as a smile threatens to spill on your lips. “I should have made an effort to learn about what you grew up with. But better late than never?” he suggests as you engulf him in the most enormous hug you can muster. Draco laughs as you squeeze him tight, his grip on you iron. “I took some time to listen to some of your favorite records and I stayed up all last night reading your favorite book.”

“You read The Scarlet Letter?” you ask in disbelief. The surprises never stopped when it came to Draco. He proudly nodded. “I can’t believe you would do all of this for me...this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Draco’s heart swells with pride. “It’s what you deserve,” he simply states. “Now,” he extends his hand to you. “Will you join me for a dance?”

Giggling, you accept his hand as the two of you rock gently to the sounds of Paul Anka on your record player, gazing into each others eyes as you smile like an idiot. “I can’t believe you sometimes, Malfoy,” you shake your head. “What do you think of it? The music, the book?”

“To be honest with you, it’s not half bad. The ABBA album is pretty good,” he shrugs, making you laugh wildly, throwing your head back. “Now that’s music to my ears,” he refers to your laughter as you blush.

For the next few hours, you and Draco listen to your new albums he purchased for you as you lecture him on muggle books and authors, him smiling wide as you speak passionately about them. Although Draco knew his father would have a field day when he heard about this, he couldn’t care less. You were happy and that’s all that mattered to Draco.

#draco #draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco x female reader #draco x you #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy fanficiton #draco malfoy x female reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco x hufflepuff!reader #hp #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagine #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #hufflepuff x draco #hufflepuff

668 notes · View notes

mca-attack21 · 3 years ago

Text

Distraction part 1

This is a mini series that is Scott x Reader. And before you ask, yes I am still writing the Stiles Sis Fic series the next part will be out relatively soon. I've been busy planning out the later seasons so I could make sure to time everything correctly. Anyways, for more of my writing here is my Masterlist.

Friday

It started as a normal day, you woke up and prepared for school. It was not long before your phone lit up with messages from your boyfriend. It was something along the line of ‘Good morning beautiful’ ‘I can’t wait to see you at school’ ‘I love you’. Every message caused the smile on your face to grow. You loved Scott. He was the guy who had seen you at your worst but would only talk about you at your best. He had a unique ability to make everything better. It was like as long as the two of you were together, nothing could ever stand in your way.

You were about to leave your house when your phone buzzed again. This time the text was from Lydia. ‘Ready for this weekend?’ she sent. ‘Totally, my bags are already in the car’ you replied. You, Allison, and Lydia were going to leave right after the Lacrosse game and go up to one of her family’s cabins. She had decided that you were in need of mandatory girl time. After all, you hadn’t spent much time together with all of the supernatural chaos.

It was a normal school day. You were greeted by Scott and Stiles. You sat through all of your classes, met up with Lydia at lunch, and talked to Scott during your shared free period. After school was over you hung out with Scott until he had to start getting ready for his game.

“I wish you didn’t have to go with Lydia” he pouted jokingly.

“It’s not that big of a deal Scott I’ll be back Sunday night,” you replied.

“I know but that is two whole days without you,” he answered.

“Exactly, it’s two days” you laughed, “You’ll be fine” you added.

“We can text, right?” Scott asked.

“Well as much as I would love to, Lydia would kill me, and there is no signal up there anyways,” you answered.

“This is about to be the longest 48 hours of my life,” Scott groaned.

You rolled your eyes, “It’s a good opportunity to have some bro time with Stiles, maybe you can finally watch Star Wars,” you remarked as you started to get up.

“Not so fast,” Scott said as he pulled you back down onto his bed and kissed you.

“Scott” *kiss* “I” *kiss* “Love” *kiss* “you, but” *kiss* “we have” *kiss* “to go” *kiss* you managed to say before he pulled away. You tried to look away from him knowing you were blushing hard. “Good luck tonight, not that you’ll need it. I love you and I’ll see you Sunday if not before then,” you said hugging him.

“I love you too Y/n, I’ll see you at the game,” he returned.

You went to Lydia’s house and went through the plan one last time. She went through a checklist to make sure that neither you nor Allison had forgotten anything. After that, it was time for the three of you to go to the game.

You watched the game and cheered for both Scott and Stiles. The team won 5-3. You were getting ready to go when Allison realized that she forgot to put her bag in Lydia’s car. Lydia was going to take her back and grab the bag. You decided to use the time to catch your boyfriend before leaving. You were weaving through the crowd when someone’s hand went over your mouth. “Nighty Night Y/n,” you heard an eerily familiar voice before feeling a pinch in your neck and seeing everything fade to black.

‘Hey Lyds, I’m really sorry but my mom called. She’s in the hospital. It’s not serious, but I’m staying here with her.’

Lydia text you back, ‘Do you want us to come with you, we can reschedule’

‘No don’t do that. Go have fun. We can hang out next weekend’

‘Are you sure? It’s not that big of a deal,’ she replied.

‘Don’t worry Lydia, it’s fine, just enjoy yourselves, I’ll see you Monday’

‘Okay, see you Monday’ She answered as she and Allison started to leave.

“What’s up?” Allison asked.

“Something came up and Y/n can’t come with us,” Lydia answered.

“Awe, that’s too bad, you still want to go?” Allison questioned.

“Of course, let’s do this, phones off” she replied, turning off her own phone.

Scott was dragged to a party with Stiles. It was for a friend of Stiles’, Heather. Scott didn’t really want to go, he couldn’t get drunk and he wouldn’t know anyone other than Stiles. But Stiles had insisted that it would make the time without you and Lydia more bearable. As Stiles entered he was greeted with a passionate kiss from none other than the birthday girl herself. He was quickly whisked away to the wine cellar. Scott reluctantly moved into the living room, grabbed a drink, and pulled out his phone. He smiled as he saw he had a text from you. ‘Hey babe, I’m leaving with the girls, turning my phone off now. Love you, see you Sunday!’

That was the last text sent before your phone was shut off and thrown in the dumpster behind the school. “That will buy me some time,” your kidnapper replied before driving away with you unconscious in the back seat.

Saturday

The day started off pretty normally for Scott. He went to text you before he remembered that you wouldn’t have service. He was glad that you were able to get away and relax with the girls. He had decided to go to the field with Stiles to practice Lacrosse. But he couldn’t shake a gut feeling that something was wrong. Stiles explained to Scott that there was a body found and that he was waiting on his dad to see if it was anything supernatural. Scott couldn’t help but be slightly uninterested. He was tired of death and the supernatural world, he was just a kid, and for once he wanted to act like it. Scott stared out the window of Roscoe, and wondered what you were doing right now.

........

You woke up and were caught completely off guard. It was dark and you were sitting knee-deep in water. There was a light above you. You must have been in a well. But you couldn’t remember how you would have got here. You went to reach for your aching head and realized that your hands were bound. You tried standing up splashing the water around which sent a shiver through your body. You wondered how long you had been missing. You weren’t that worried though, you were supposed to be with Lydia and Allison. They wouldn’t have left without you. And once Scott found out, he’d come for you. But then again, you were trapped in water, which meant he’d have a hard time following your scent. And you didn’t know how long you’d already been down here. You started to worry, trying to break your hands free so you could attempt to climb the wall. But that would take hours.

Meanwhile:

Scott and Stiles were at Stiles' house about to start their movie marathon when Stiles got a text. “Woah dude, you remember that body they found earlier?” Stiles asked, rereading the message in disbelief.

“Yeah, what about it?” Scott asked, wishing he could have one night off.

“It wasn’t just your average dead body. There was a significant blow to the head, his throat was slashed, and he was strangled by a garrote,” Stiles explained.

“Okay Stiles, but that doesn’t exactly sound supernatural, can’t we let the police handle this one?” Scott tried.

“Yeah I guess, but talk about overkill,” he answered, though he was planning on looking into it more after his best friend went home. Nothing was ever as it seemed in Beacon Hills, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t prepared for the worst-case scenario.

The two of them ate pizza and started to watch the first movie, however it wasn’t long after Scott finished eating that he fell asleep. Stiles took this time to do research on the latest murder.

Later that night:

You had finally managed to unbind your hands after what felt like hours of scraping them against the brick. You wanted to climb up the wall but it was now so dark that you could barely see your hand in front of your face. You decided that it would have to wait until morning. You sat back in the cold water, trying to find a safe position to sit in. The water was so cold. Your throat was sore from the screaming you had done earlier. You started crying as you realized the severity of your situation. You could die down here. You were going to die down here if someone didn’t find you soon. You thought about Scott. The only comfort that you felt was in knowing that he was out there looking for you. After a while, you drifted out of consciousness.

#scott mccall series #scottxreader #scott mccall x reader #scott x reader #scott mccall imagines #scott mccall imagine #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf imagines #teenwolf imagine #teen wolf imagine #teenwolf imagines #teen wolf series #teenwolf #teen wolf

89 notes · View notes

perfectpaperbluebirds · 3 years ago

Text

@sicktember Prompt # 7: Sneaky Temperature Check

Title: In Which Howl Worries About Sophie

Fandom: Howl's Moving Castle (book)

Sophie is tired and careworn and doesn't realize she has fallen ill. Howl comes to her rescue once more, and turns out to be an awfully good caretaker.

(For those who have only seen the movie: Elementary school-age "Markl" in the movie is high school-age Michael in the book. Howl, Sophie, and Calcifer are very much the same.)

Most of the time, living in a moving castle with a wizard and a fire demon made for a very interesting life, and a vastly different one than Sophie had led trimming hats for her family’s hat shop. However, there were times Sophie was grateful for her upbringing, especially when it came to helping to raise her younger sisters. After all, being able to care for someone who needs help is a skill no one should lack.

That was driven home to Sophie not long after the dramatic events involving the Witch of the Waste and her fire demon. Howl and Sophie had broken spells and contacts galore, and were well set up to live happily ever after in the moving castle, with a newly-freed Calcifer along for the ride. However, not a week after the Witch and her fire demon were defeated, Michael came down with a bad cold. Sophie chalked it up to all the stress from the weeks prior, and too much magic flying around. Howl hardly seemed to notice his apprentice sneezing all over everyone, and was much more interested in Sophie, now that she was back to her proper age and properly in love with him.

It wasn't until Michael's cold took a turn for the worse and he was laid up in bed and not around to help that Howl paid it any mind. However, as everyone knows, there's no cure for a cold, not even with magic. In a matter of days, despite Sophie's efforts, Michael became seriously ill when his cold developed into a nasty case of pneumonia. After this, Sophie hardly left his side. She felt unreasonably guilty that she had somehow caused this, or hadn't cared for him properly in his cold's early stages. Sophie's sister Martha and Michael had plans to get married after Michael's apprenticeship, so of course Martha was beside herself as well. The sisters practically lived in Michael's room during those days, keeping watch to ensure he got no worse, as he lay in bed wheezing laboriously.

Michael finally did start to improve, with some assistance from Howl's magic, and Sophie and Martha breathed a little easier along with Michael. However, since Martha had her own apprenticeship to worry about, Sophie still felt quite obligated to sit often by Michael's bedside and keep him company, especially when Martha was working.

Howl clearly began to feel neglected. He dealt with it admirably when Michael was most ill, but when Michael started to recover, Howl began to seek some attention as well.

"Sophie, come out and walk in the garden with me. It's a beautiful day. Perhaps we can even pick some flowers and reopen the flower shop today.

"Sophie, I just read about a very interesting spell that you might like. Come here and I'll teach you.

"Sophie, come tell me how you'd like your room laid out so I can start to modify the castle. You can't sleep under the stairs forever.

"Sophie, come here and sit by the fire with me. Calcifer is bored and wants you to talk to him.

"Sophie, the bathroom is a mess. I need your help to clean it.

The petitions quickly went from hopeful to petulant. Sophie sensed his frustration. However, she was too concerned about Michael and Martha to pay him much mind. She had an excuse every time as to why she couldn't rest.

"I don't have time for flowers right now. I need to make another pot of broth.

"My mind is too scattered to learn a new spell. Another day.

"I couldn't think straight enough to plan a whole room. And I really don't need to move. My cubby hole is perfectly fine.

"I can't sit when I have bedding to clean, and anyway my voice is worn out from reading to Michael.

"Then clean it yourself! I'm not the only one who can scrub.

As Howl became more annoying, Sophie became angrier, until she was brushing him off before he even spoke with a look or a curt gesture, especially when he began to ask if she was coming down with something and she had to tell him she was fine multiple times a day. At one point there was only icy silence between them after she snapped at him for standing in front of Calcifer when she needed to cook, and he called her a nagging fishwife. When she shot back saying that must mean he was the fish, Howl stormed out to Market Chipping in high temper. She didn't see him again for the rest of the day.

A few days after their fight, Sophie again found herself in front of Calcifer cooking. Michael finally had an appetite for something other than broth, and with Calcifer gone for part or all of most days when it wasn't raining, she took the opportunity to cook on him whenever she could. However, for once she wasn't chatting with the demon, but was simply attending to her task in a haze of fatigue. After a moment, she sensed Howl standing at her side looking at her, which flared up a familiar spark of irritation.

"If you tell me to "come" do anything with you today, I'm going to scream, Howl. Don't bother me," she said, not looking at him.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Howl conjure up a chair and push it behind her. "I'm not asking you to come anywhere, I'm asking you to sit right where you are. Please rest for a bit, Sophie dear. You look as if you're about to collapse."

The true concern in his voice made her bite back the sharp response on her tongue. She let a small sigh escape instead, which turned into a dry, raspy cough. "I just haven't been getting much rest," she said after a moment. "I'm all right."

"You've also kept that cough for weeks now, and it's getting worse and not better. Sit, please. I insist on it. I'll watch the bacon."

"I'm just a little under the weather," she mumbled weakly. Yet she found herself sinking into the chair almost against her will. The fact that he was being so insistent intrigued her even in her tired state, since he was usually so non-confrontational. "I'll sit for just a moment to please you. But don't even think about sitting with me. I'm still mad at you, and I don't want to talk."

"Not a word to you will cross my lips," he said primly. The fact that he wasn't taking the bait to pick a fight with her was also suspicious. She watched him closely out of the corner of her eye, leaning back into the chair as she did. She really did feel much better sitting down and breathed a small sigh of relief, which became another cough. She tried to lean back and rest as she had been instructed to do. It occurred to her that she had been more lightheaded these past few days than she had been the whole time she was an old woman.

True to his word meanwhile, Howl took over the bacon, wrapping a gilded sleeve around the handle and striking up conversation with Calcifer, which Sophie didn't bother to follow. Instead she sleepily admired Howl's handsome profile, and thought for the hundredth time how much better his eyes looked now that he had his heart back. The pendant in his ear danced as he spoke, and watching it sway lulled her into a doze almost immediately.

She woke with a start when she felt something press against her face, which turned out to be Howl's hand.

"I knew it," he crowed. "You *are*feverish. Otherwise you would never be so irritable. Poor, dear Sophie, you must've caught Michael's cold. I imagine you're feeling awful."

She brushed his hand away wearily. "And so what if I am? There's too much to do. I don't have time to be ill."

Howl frowned, then without a word he effortlessly picked her up, bridal-style, and began to carry her up the stairs.

She tried to push his arms away, but he was stronger than he appeared for how slight he was-- or else he was using magic. She wore herself out quickly fighting him, instead succumbing to a coughing fit.

He carried her directly up to his bedroom, laying her gently on the bed. She half-heartedly tried to roll off the other side to get down, but Howl stopped her with one hand. As she sunk into the obscenely comfortable mattress, the weight of her fatigue fell over her fully, and she stopped fighting, instead yawning hugely.

"There now, you see? You're exhausted. And you're not leaving this bed for a few days until you're better, lest I have two cases of pneumonia on my hands.”

"But I can't stay in your bed. I should be in my bed," said Sophie sleepily, even as Howl tucked her in.

"I won't let you sleep on that straw mattress one more day. Before you're recovered, you shall have a proper room and bed. Be honest Sophie, the reason you're so against having a real room here is because that makes your being here and what you and I have together permanent, and that scares you. That's why you've been avoiding me too. Michael being ill was just a convenient excuse."

Sophie guiltily avoided his eyes. "I suppose that might be true. It's just such a big change, moving in permanently. And it's all so surreal still. Sometimes I think you and all of this must be a dream, because it feels too good to be true."

Howl took her hand tenderly, kneeling by the bed. "And I thought I was supposed to be the one afraid of commitment, not you. Dearest, I feel the very same way. I'm terrified to see where this road leads, as well as terribly excited. But we'll go slow and take our time and figure it out together. That's what we seem to be good at, if nothing else.

Sophie kissed his hand, a wave of emotion flooding through her. "Thank you, Howl. I needed to hear that." A nasty bout of coughing prevented her from saying anything further.

"And here I'm keeping you talking when you're ill. Hush now and rest. Here, drink some broth. It's yours so I'm sure it's wonderful. I haven't seen you eat properly in days." He conjured a bowl and spoon out of nowhere.

"I can barely swallow. My throat is too sore," she mumbled, embarrassed at how much he had been noticing, while she had been ignoring him.

"Just a little for now, to give you some strength. I'll mix a potion for your throat in a bit. You're under my care now, never fear."

"What about Michael? He needs looking after too," she croaked wearily, sipping on the broth, which was indeed delicious.

"I'll be fine with Martha's help. You need looking after more," came a weak voice from behind them. Both quickly turned to find Michael leaning in the doorway, barefoot and wrapped in a blanket, and looking as pale and weary as he did determined.

"I knew you were getting sick too," Michael continued. "You've been so tired and subdued. I told Howl he needed to check on you."

"Not that I needed him telling me so! I already had planned to look after you," Howl said, giving Michael an injured look.

Sophie couldn't help but smile at the two men in her life, tired as she was. She knew whatever else her future would be in the moving castle, she would never want for entertainment or affection ever again.

#sicktember2021 #sickfic #prompt 7 #everyone is hotter with a fever

40 notes · View notes

alccaddsccup · 4 years ago

Text

thank you anon for the wonderful fic idea! ❤️

May i present to you...

sickly sweet

ina x mc

warnings: just fluff

“Come on Bea, let me in!” Ina sighed exasperatedly

“You can’t see me like this, I’m a revolting snot monster!” came a muffled reply from the other side of the door

“Bea, you’re not revolting, or a snot monster. Please let me in” The door didn’t budge

Ina reached into the shopping bag she was carrying to pull out a tin “I made you some soup”

The door opened by an inch and Bea’s eye appeared through the crack

“You made me soup? But you can’t even cook”

“Well, I made a trip to the store to buy soup. That has to count for something, right?”

Ina chuckled as Bea rolled her eyes; she couldn’t quite contain the smile bought up by Ina’s kind gesture

The reason for Ina’s impromptu soup shopping trip was an email she had received from Bea that morning explaining why she could not come into the office that day.

Bea had been suffering with a sore throat and a nasty headache for the past few days but was horrified when she woke up this morning with snot pouring out her nose. It was like a waterfall of green, sticky mucus (not a good look.) She immediately emailed professor Kingsley to ask for the day off and Kingsley, being the babe that she is, let Bea take the rest of the week off.

There was no mention in the email of her knocking on Bea’s door to hand deliver some soup!

************************

“Now please let me in so I can prepare this soup for you” Ina gently nudged the door with her foot, but Bea wasn’t ready to budge

“Are you sure you know how to heat up soup?”

“I’m pretty sure I know how to use a microwave, Bea”

Bea gave Ina an incredulous look before gazing down to the TIN of soup in Ina’s hand

“If you put that in the microwave, you’ll end up burning my whole dorm down” Bea opened the door just wide enough for Ina to squeeze in, and she pulled Ina by the sleeve to the kitchen.

“I’ll teach you to cook one day, but for now, I’ll just show you to heat up tinned soup”

Ina was overcome with a brief wave of emotion whilst imagining Bea teaching her how to cook. It sounded so beautifully domestic, like something a real couple would do

Bea rummaged through the cabinets to find a pot before placing it on the stove and waving an outstretched hand towards Ina, without showing her face (which was cleverly hidden by the hood of her hoodie.)

“Hand me the soup, would you?”

Bea felt the cold metal enter her hand and noticed the sharp contrast between the tin and Ina’s warm fingers, which gently grazed her palm

“Bea are you sure you should be doing this? You can lie down whilst I prepare this soup for you”

“I’m fine, it’s just a heavy cold” Bea begun to open the can but was stopped by Ina placing her hand on her forearm. A warm feeling spread through her at the sudden contact

“Please, I insist. You can relax on the sofa and tutor me in soup heating if you’d like”

Bea chuckled at Ina’s insistence and was secretly touched by how concerned Ina was for her

“Fine but let me open the can first, we can’t have a repeat of the pasta incident”

Once the can had been opened and Ina had successfully heated the soup, she bought the steaming bowl over to Bea, who swivelled round on the sofa from her reclined position

“Bon appetit”

“Thanks Ina, you’re a lifesaver” Bea held the bowl close to her face and inhaled deeply before taking a few tentative sips. She then patted the space next to her on the sofa

“Come sit down”

“Oh, I was just about to head off actually. I’d like to leave before Zoey returns to prevent things from becoming awkward” as she said this, she rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly and went to move towards the door

“Don’t be silly, things wouldn’t be awkward! But if it’s any consolation, Zoey won’t be back anytime soon. She’s trying to stay out of the dorm as much as possible so she doesn’t get the plague” Bea rolled her eyes and air quoted around the word plague, which made Ina chuckle

“Alright then, if you’re sure”

Ina took a seat besides Bea who was thoroughly enjoying the warm soup.

“So, Ina” Bea cleared her throat before continuing “we both know you’re not the best chef. I was just wondering what you eat for dinner”

Ina feigned being hurt as she held a hand to her chest “You wound me with your harsh words! I am a very... adequate chef”

Bea giggled and nudged Ina with her elbow

“You know what I mean”

“Well, lets just say I could become a professor in the art of microwave meals and takeouts”

Bea raised her eyebrows “So do you not eat fresh meals, like, ever?”

“I always get to eat the most delicious meals whenever I visit Lillian, she is a wonderful cook”

“You know, I could always cook for you sometime, if you want” Bea looked hopefully at Ina who was smiling ever so slightly at her

“I’d like that very much” she gently took hold of Bea’s free hand and ran her thumb in small circles whilst Bea finished her soup

“Would you like me to clean that bowl up for you?” Ina held her hand out to take the bowl but Bea shook her head

“Ina it’s totally fine, you’ve done so much for me already” She placed the bowl on the coffee table prior to laying back down, but this time she placed her head in Ina’s lap

Ina momentarily went stiff before delicately stroking Bea’s hair

“Bea?”

“Yeah?” Bea rolled over slightly in Ina’s lap so that she could gaze up at her

“You’re the most beautiful snot monster I’ve ever seen”

Bea flushed with embarrassment and she covered her face with her hands

“Inaaa”

“Hey, I’m being serious” Ina gently pulled Bea’s hands away from her face whilst smiling at how cute she was.

“You’re so beautiful Bea”

Ina leaned in and placed a tender kiss on Bea’s forehead

“Ina you shouldn’t do that, you’ll get sick”

“I don’t mind if it means I get to take care of you” As she said this, she gently stroked Bea’s hair before bending down once more to place another kiss, on her lips this time

Their mouths moved together slowly and sensually as Bea’s tongue delicately traced Ina’s lower lip. After a few seconds, the pair pulled apart, their faces only inches away as they gazed adoringly at each other

“Still worried about me getting sick?”

“Hmm, I think you should kiss me again to help me decide”

Bea sat up so that she was sitting in Ina’s lap, before both of them moved towards each other and met in the middle for another delicate kiss which slowly got more intense. Ina’s hands moved to Bea’s waist as she pulled her closer; meanwhile, Bea draped her arms around the professor’s neck. Their mouths opened simultaneously as Ina’s tongue explored Bea’s mouth

Suddenly Ina pulled away and furrowed her brow

“Ina, what’s wrong?”

“I’m about to-“ Ina buried her face into her elbow

“Achoo!!” she sneezed daintily before sharing an alarmed look with Bea

#lmk what u guys think #my asks are always open for more suggestions #in my mind ina sneezes like a kitten #but i thought that was a bit weird to include in the fic #play choices #choices stories you play #queen b #choices queen b #choices qb #qb #ina kingsley #ina x mc

54 notes · View notes

morganaspendragonss · 3 years ago

Note

If you still have the square open, fingore for Tarlos? I looked it up and the definition made me all cringy lol because I am a giant wuss, so I was thinking maybe threat of fingore (or actual fingore if you want to go for it because you are clearly made of cooler and tougher stuff than me ;) ), something with Carlos hostage on a case and the bad guys want him to give up some information? Or Carlos is protecting TK somehow and won't tell them where he is?

holly's august extravaganza day 8: we'll hold each other soon

unfortunately the square had already been taken when this came through but i hope you like what i came up with! thanks for the prompt! tied into chapters five and eleven from the breeze in my austin nights

ao3 | 2.1k | angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, torture, carlos briefly thinks tk is dead but he's not

Carlos had known this would happen. He’s known for weeks; he’s felt the suspicion in the gang growing, sensed his cover crumbling bit by bit. It’s been especially bad since his run-in with Paul and Marjan, but that was really just the final straw.

Things with this mission have been going sideways for a long time. He’d reported it to his supervisors, of course he had, but all they’d said was that the case was too important to give up just because of one man’s feeling.

He wishes he could take satisfaction in being proved right.

Unfortunately, him being right means nothing to his supervisors. For Carlos, it means getting dragged out of his temporary apartment in the early hours of the morning and taken, blindfolded and gagged, to a remote corner of town, probably unknown to everyone outside of the gang.

Carlos doesn’t struggle as he’s shoved into a chair and chained by the feet, his hands and torso bound to the wood with a rough rope that rubs his skin painfully. By the low mutters and footsteps echoing around the room, it’s clear there’s more than just one or two of the gang holding him, so he figures that fighting will only make things worse for him.

Once he’s sufficiently tied up, the blindfold is yanked from his eyes and the gag removed. Carlos gratefully sucks in a few deep breaths, blinking hard as his vision adjusts to the harsh fluorescent lighting in the room. There are six men surrounding him and Carlos recognises one as the gang leader, Manese. Another, Daniels, is holding a crowbar, and all of them are armed with at least one gun, probably more.

Carlos, meanwhile, is lucky he’s wearing socks.

Thank god for draughty apartments.

Manese steps forward, his hard stare betraying little emotion. “I’m gonna cut the bullshit, Reyes,” he says. “We know who you are, we know you’ve been passing information to other cops, and we know you’re probably not doing it alone.

“So, you’ve got two choices. Either you make it easy for us and we’ll make it easy for you—I’d say I’d let you live, but you and I both know I can’t do that. But I will leave a body to bury. Or, you make it difficult and we’ll return the favour. And, believe me, we can make things very, very difficult for you.” He grins and spreads his hands out, tipping them in a mimic of a set of scales. “This only ends one way for you, Reyes. All you gotta do is decide how fast you want to get there.”

The look Manese sends him lets Carlos know that he already knows exactly what decision he’s going to make, and that he’s going to enjoy it. Carlos sighs and closes his eyes, briefly hanging his head. He spares a thought for his family back in Austin—his parents, TK—and prays that, whatever happens, they’ll at least be able to get some closure.

Then, he steels himself and looks Manese dead in the eyes. “Do what you want. I’m not telling you anything.”

Manese’s grin takes on a shark-like quality, and Carlos has to force himself not to react to the way he leers at him. “Excellent choice.” He flicks his hand and Daniels steps forward, a manic look in his eye as he flexes his grip around the crowbar.

Carlos barely has a moment to prepare himself before all he knows is pain.

He screams as the crowbar comes down for what feels like the hundredth time, eliciting a sickening crack as his arm breaks. Carlos’s vision white out and he folds in on himself as much as he can, his left arm straining to cradle his right, but all he achieves is the already abused skin becoming more raw and sore. He breathes heavily, blinking rapidly as the room slowly swims into view once more. Daniels looks bored, the crowbar swinging loosely in his grasp, and Manese seems to be running out of patience.

“Got your memory back yet, Reyes?” he asks tersely.

Carlos just shakes his head and braces himself for the next hit.

Which doesn’t come.

And doesn’t come.

Carlos squints up at them, frowning when he sees Manese with a hand on Daniels’ arm as he studies him closely. The calculating glint in his eye sends a flash of dread through Carlos; nothing good can possibly come of this.

“Go for his fingers next,” he orders after a while, releasing Daniels. “I don’t care how—break them, shoot them, crush them, whatever—just get me answers.” He turns to Carlos and tuts, sighing heavily in mock regret. “This is your own fault, Reyes. All this can be over like that”—he snaps his fingers—“if you just give me what I want. A couple names, a location or two, that’s all I’m asking. Not much, right?”

Carlos stubbornly stays silent—at this point, he’s not sure he has enough breath left to speak even if he wanted to—and Manese sighs again.

“Your funeral.” He shrugs and steps back to give Daniels room, but before anything can happen, one of the others in the room rushes forward to whisper something to Manese. Carlos can’t hear what’s being said and he’s too exhausted to try; all he can feel is relief for the brief reprieve. His arm is screaming at him, the pain in the rest of his body paling in comparison, and he’s not sure how much longer he can stand it.

The hushed mutters continue for another minute, until eventually Manese nods sharply and four of the six men in the room file out. He smiles at Carlos, sickly sweet, and claps his hands together once, rubbing them for good measure. “Looks like it’s your lucky day, Reyes,” he says, with a lazy drawl that can’t mean anything good. “Business calls.”

Carlos doesn’t have time to comprehend what that means before Manese and Daniels are also leaving, flipping them lights off as they go.

And Carlos is left alone.

Time means nothing as Carlos waits for someone to return and finish what they started. The only thing he’s certain of is that something must have changed to get Manese to halt his torture, and it probably isn’t a very good something.

Not for Carlos, at least.

He thinks about trying to escape, but even slight movements are so painful that he fears he might throw up or pass out or, more likely, both. Besides, even if he did manage to get out of the bonds on his arms and torso, there would still be the chains on his feet to deal with, and Carlos knows there’s more of a chance of rescue than him dealing with those on his own, especially with a broken arm.

His mind is left to wander, and he keeps circling back to one point that seems to solidify itself more with each second that passes.

He’s not getting out of here.

A fresh wave of pain—not physical, this time—washes through him, and his whole chest aches as he thinks of TK. He’d been so worried for Carlos ever since they found out about the case, and he’d begged him to stay safe the morning he’d left just over three months ago.

“Be careful, please,” TK said, smoothing down the lapels of Carlos’s shirt. “Whatever happens out there, whatever you have to do, just promise me one thing. Promise you’ll come back to me.”

Carlos knew better than to promise something like that, and TK knew better than to ask it. But because it was him, and because it was TK, Carlos just nodded and leaned in to press a kiss to TK’s temple.

“I promise,” he whispered, pulling away. TK didn’t let him go far before dragging him into a real kiss. It felt like it lasted forever, only to seem far too short when they broke apart, still clinging to one another. Carlos allowed himself another minute in TK’s embrace, then forced himself to move away, giving his boyfriend one last smile.

TK returned it with a smile of his own, and Carlos carried it with him long after the door swung closed between them.

It’s the last good memory Carlos has, and he’s going to hold onto it for as long as he has left. If he’s going to die, then the last thing he wants to see is TK’s smile, even if it is just in his mind.

Carlos is nearly blinded when the lights suddenly turn back on, revealing Manese and two other gang members standing in front of him. He only vaguely recognises these two—it’s possible he could dredge up some names if he thought about it for long enough, but his attention is locked on Manese, who looks far too pleased with himself, in the same way a predator must look before it catches its prey.

“You’ve made it clear you’re not going to give us any names,” Manese says, “so now I’m going to give you one.” He steps closer and lowers his voice, grinning like he’s sharing a secret just for the two of them. “Tyler Kennedy Strand.”

Carlos’s blood runs cold at the sound of TK’s name.

TK’s full name.

“What—” but his ruined and dry throat refuses to cooperate. Instead, he levels a glare at Manese, and hopes that it’s enough to convey every single question and threat running through his mind right now.

If possible, Manese’s smile widens. “Recognise it do you?” he says lightly. “I thought you might. See, Carlos, we have people all over, not just in this shithole town, and once we knew who you were, it was child’s play to track down your nearest and dearest. And who is nearer and dearer than that pretty boy of yours?”

He steps back and snaps his fingers, holding his hand out. One of the others hands him a slip of paper, which Manese then presents to Carlos, dropping it carelessly in his lap. “Take a look.”

Curiosity getting the better of him, Carlos looks down at what he realises is a photograph. He can’t understand it at first, but slowly the details become clearer and more familiar, and—god.

“I’ll give him credit, he put up quite the fight,” Manese is saying, but he sounds like he’s shouting down a tunnel, the roaring in Carlos’s ears blocking out most other sounds. “It’s unfortunate that fists can’t stop a bullet.”

Everything stops making sense after that.

TK is dead.

It makes no sense, so why should anything else? Carlos stares and stares at the photo, and keeps staring even after it’s snatched out of his lap, the image burned onto his retinas by now. He’s aware, distantly, of voices and sounds and sensations but they’re all muted, happening outside this bubble he’s created around himself.

He wishes they’d just get it over with.

Carlos blinks, and there’s someone new in front of him, someone unfamiliar who touches him gently and looks at him kindly.

He blinks and the scenery changes. He’s in a vehicle, staring up at a white ceiling, being taken...somewhere. He feels warm and the pain has dimmed, but he’s sinking again before he can put a thought to what that means.

He blinks and he’s in a bed, a woman standing in front of him and asking him questions. Carlos doesn’t really understand what’s going on, doesn’t know what could possibly be more important than the fact that TK is dead and it’s all his fault. He shakes his head at the woman and turns away.

He blinks, and TK is there.

And, when he blinks again, TK is still there.

And it’s—it’s impossible. He’s hallucinating or dreaming because TK is dead, and dead people don’t come back to life just because he might wish it.

So he tries, and he tries, and he tries to snap himself back to reality. But it doesn’t work, and TK is still in front of him, that crease between his brows growing with every second that passes. Carlos wants to reach out and smooth it away but he knows he can’t, and—

And, TK takes his hand and presses it to his chest.

Hallucinations don’t feel that solid.

They also don’t have a heartbeat.

This time, when TK doesn’t disappear, Carlos allows himself to believe.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby,” TK whispers in his ear, holding him close, warm and solid and alive. “I’m always going to be right here.”

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #carlos reyes #tk strand #lone star #911ls #holly's august extravaganza #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #221bsunsettowers

49 notes · View notes

imissjoongsmullet · 4 years ago

Text

My Prince (5)

Pairing: Minghao x reader

Genre: fluff/(angst)

Summary: Life is not exactly easy being the royal gardeners’ daughter but at least it’s simple. When you’re suddenly called upon to serve as the prince’s personal servant, things get a little more than complicated, especially considering the secret history you and the prince share.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Warnings: general angstiness, a bit of a slow burn, very romantic, very soft, the fact that this will most likely become a long series cause I have no chill

Word Count: 7K

Author’s Note: this is long overdue but also, this is just long! I just couldn’t stop writing and so now this chapter is 7K so yeah ENJOY!! ✌️

Let me know what you think, good or bad, I love the feedback ♥

►

Fine.

Those last words he'd said to you kept playing in your mind the following days. Technically he'd said other words since but they'd been cloaked in formalities; commands from a prince to a servant, nothing more. You'd really screwed up this time, you'd lost him forever. It was a thing you'd known would happen from the start but that didn't soften the pain now festering in your chest.

Minghao had met with Zhong Mei, as he had supposed to that day. He'd been a perfect picture of royalty, graceful and pleasant; and she'd been lovely as she always was, smiling all the way through the meal. Meanwhile you had stood flanking the wall with Tou Ma, trying to keep your tears from spilling over. You'd kept your eyes down, counting the colorful mosaics that threaded the shiny black flooring until the whole thing was over.

Not that any of it was over of course.

After the prince and his bride's first official meeting, the two were ushered out into the gardens to "spend some time alone" while you helped Tou Ma with a another seemingly endless string of wedding-related tasks.

Slowly but surely your body reverted to autopilot, working your hands raw and your legs sore. You barely realized you were spacing out until at last, you lied down in your sheets on the floor of the maid's quarters and cried. You cried and cried in stuttered silence, praying the sun would not come up again. You didn't know how you'd face another day. You thought about feigning illness but knew Tou Ma would not be so easily fooled.

“You’ll be out in the gardens today,” the head maid explained with a weary expression. This whole wedding business seemed to have taken a toll on the old woman as well. “Floral arrangements need to be decided on and I need you to oversee the whole thing gets done in time. Can I trust you with that?”

Your head bobbed up and down faster than was polite. A rush charged through your chest at the idea of spending time with the flowers. Despite your frequent complaining as a gardener, you’d always enjoyed taking care of the vivid, fragrant plants that grew in the royal gardens. But more than that, you knew what this request must mean.

“Mother!” you cried, breaking out into a run. She looked older and shorter somehow, but her embrace was as tight as ever.

Of course, your parents would be working on the flower arrangements as well.

“Look at you!” she said, holding your face in her dirt-stained hands, “my daughter, a real part of the castle.”

Overwhelmed with grief for the life you’d left behind, a sob welled up from the back of your throat but before it could break free into the morning air, Tou Ma interrupted.

“There is lots of work to be done so we better start at once,” she said matter-of-factly, unrolling a long piece of parchment, “I have sat down with both the royal family and the Zhong family respectively and decided on a theme and color scheme for the celebration. I have listed all requirements specifically. The types, the arrangements, the placements, all of it has been meticulously planned.” She then turned her head your way. “I’m leaving you in charge of making sure everything is accounted for on the day. This is a big task, but regrettably, I am far too busy taking care of everything else to take this on as well. And you are the gardener’s daughter, after all. Do not disappoint me.” With another one of her stern looks, she handed you the scroll, gave a curt bow to your parents and walked away.

Now this was a task you were up for. You gazed around you, at the stretches of colorful flowers that ran as far as the eye could see. There were rows and rows of chrysanthemums that spawned in colorful formations, bushes of peonies flanking cobbled pathways, a whole field of the most delicious-smelling lavender, lilies and azaleas and roses and narcissus flowers and you felt all at once, at home. For a moment you seemed to forget the prince and your feelings. It was like a giant slimy toad had just slipped right off of your shoulders, leaving you feeling light as air.

Looking over the list, you were up for quite the challenge. The sheer amount of flowers that would need to be harvested for this event, on such short notice, was startling. But with the help of your parents and their staff, you were confident you’d be able to pull it off. You spent the whole morning and most of the afternoon rushing from one end of the garden to the other, figuring out which plants would be needed, when they’d need to be cut and who would craft what particular piece. It was a little strange, being in charge when all the gardeners were quite a bit older and definitely more experienced than you, but your parents kept encouraging you whenever you stuttered.

“I’m so proud of you,” your mother said as you both sat down for a rest underneath a pine tree on a hill overlooking the garden. She pulled out a packed lunch for the both of you: rice wrapped in bamboo leaves with plum fillings.

“Mother,” you sighed, not knowing how to react. You felt like a fraud. You weren’t what she thought you’d become at the castle. You weren’t some high-standing servant, near and dear to the king and queen. You were a screwup. You’d caused so much trouble since your arrival at the castle you were quite frankly surprised you hadn’t been banished yet.

You could see most of the royal gardens from here; well, the most beautiful parts anyways. There was almost no one out there today. Everyone was most likely busy preparing for the wedding except—

Minghao was strolling through the rose garden ways away from the hill you were sitting. You could see him clearly, his upper body sticking out over the bushes. Zhong Mei was beside him, wearing a white robe with some sort of lilac pattern on it. You couldn’t see the expression on their faces but the close vicinity with which they walked by each other made your stomach turn upside down. Your eyes followed the two figures until their path ventured right and a large chestnut tree obscured your view.

“Let’s just keep working,” you said, getting up as you folded your lunch back closed and slid it in your pocket.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, child.” Your mother’s voice hadn’t changed at all, croaky like a frog but filled with warmth.

You kept your back turned to her, hugging yourself close.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“My little flower,” her voice came from behind and you felt a hand land on your shoulder, “something is bothering you.”

“I’m fine.”

She chuckled at that. “Liar. I can tell by the way your shoulders hunch,” she said, turning you around to face her, “and look, your eyebrows are all droopy.”

You shook your head. “First of all, that doesn’t make any sense and besides, I don’t want to talk about it.” You knew at once it had been a vain attempt to fend off the stubborn woman. You watched her heave a deep sigh. She was shorter than you but somehow always managed to make you feel like a baby. Her wrinkled eyes scanned your face quizzically for a few seconds before her lips curled into a knowing grin.

“You need to let go, flower,” she said, poking you in the chest with a dirty finger.

You stared at her incredulously. “Let what go?”

The old woman rolled her eyes, smiling still. “Whatever it is that’s causing all of this good-for-nothing heartache!” She patted you on both shoulders. “Go on, away with it!”

A tiny smile crept its way onto your face. “It’s not that easy.”

Your mother sighed deeply once more and turned to look out over the gardens and the castle.

“I know, dear,” she said, “the castle comes with complications these gardens could never carry. That’s why me and your father stay out here, between the fruits and the flowers. You on the other hand,” she went on, turning back to you and taking your hand, “you have some reason for staying at the castle, no?”

Your face burned at the words. You didn’t know what exactly your mother was implying but the way her deep eyes bore into yours now made you feel awfully exposed.

“You can always come back to us, of course,” your mother explained further, squeezing your hand, “but if your heart lies no longer here—”

“It doesn’t matter where my heart lies,” you cut in, taking a step back, “how I feel doesn’t matter.”

Your mother’s eyes creased as they filled with something you hated to see. Was it pity? Understanding? Whatever, you didn’t need any of it. For the smallest of moments you’d thought your problems might be solved with some wise parental advice but that had clearly been a child’s thinking. This problem didn’t have solving. You just had to learn to live with the fact that Minghao was gone forever and he’d never look at you the way he had that night under the orange trees. He’d never smile at you the way he had when he taught you how to read, he’d never touch you the way he had that evening in his chambers— or even— you couldn’t bear remembering his kiss. It was too much. It should haver have happened.

“Let’s just keep going, please,” you said at last, keeping your eyes on the grass between your feet.

The rest of the day went by like a tidal wave. In a matter of hours, you’d crossed the whole of the gardens at least half a dozen times, hauling around heavy equipment, making lists, delegating tasks and making stupid amounts of mini mock-ups of the flower pieces Tou Ma had asked for. By the time you entered the castle, you were so exhausted you thought you might just crash in a closet on the way to your room. The hustle and bustle inside the castle walls had died down as well. Aside from the occasional servant, the dark hallways were deserted and quiet. Yawning freely, you shuffled your way through them, only to get startled by the sudden noise not so far away.

“Silence, son,” a voice whispered irritably, “the castle is asleep.”

“I’m sorry.”

Hao.

Without thinking, you approached a door you’d passed before. You didn’t know what lay behind it, only that, right now, it was being occupied by the emperor and his son, prince Minghao.

“You’ve heard by now the protests haven’t seized I assume. We’re losing not only the Shingmin people but all the highlands. I have tried to protect you from your destiny for far too long I’m afraid.”

There was a long pause. You felt the pain of it right through the wood of the door.

“My son,” the emperor added wearily, “I did not want to leave this country to you on the brink of war. But the season of peace has run out. You are young and overly frivolous at times but we must believe you are capable. It is time to stop thinking about yourself and take on the responsibility you’ve always known was yours to take on. You have the power to free us all. Your legend will be told for centuries to come.”

“My legend,” Minghao spoke at last. His voice was dry and void of emotion. You wanted to go to him. You wanted to help but you didn’t know how.

Krrrr

The floorboard creaked under your feet as you’d subconsciously leaned in closer to the door. There was no way they hadn’t heard that. You pushed away from the door and set off at a run, heart racing, all the way to the maid’s quarters.

Your covers were warm and your eyelids heavy but regardless, you couldn’t seem to find your way to sleep. You tossed and turned until you were sure your hair would be a rat’s nest the following morning. Your body was lying on the floor, between dozens of happily snoozing servants, but your mind was still at that door, listening in. You knew Minghao wouldn’t appreciate it but you felt sorry for him. The weight resting on his shoulders was colossal compared to the slimy toad that tended to bother yours. His legend was beyond famous. Every person in Namin knew it like they knew the color of the sky. Every person in Namin was counting on him. You could tell by the way they looked at him. He was a savior to them. But he was just a boy. You knew that. He knew that. He was a boy, desperately trying to figure out how to live up to a legend that was born with him; a boy trying to solve an impossible riddle, trying to unlock some big secret, trying to somehow heal an entire nation.

All these thoughts floated haphazardly through your head, bouncing and clashing within the walls of your skull until, sudden as a bolt of lightning, they clicked together.

A Vast Unfathomable Secret.

That’s what the book must have been for all along. You shot up from the floor, wide awake now, and set off towards the prince’s library.

It made so much sense you cursed yourself for not seeing it before. You burst through the heavy oak doors and went to light a candle. The room looked beautiful at night, moonlight shining through the circular windows, casting hazy glows on the walls of books.

You had no idea how to start. You’d searched for this book so many times. Then again, you hadn’t been able to make your way through the entire room yet. Filled with stubborn determination, you grabbed your candle tightly and climbed up to a section you hadn’t explored yet. You could read the spines now, thanks to Minghao. In this particular section alone were books about geography, fortune telling, animals and plants you’d never even heard of, as well as poetry. You were tempted to open some of them but knew you had a more important goal. You made the mental note of reading as many books as you possibly could when all of this was over; if Minghao would continue allowing you to come here, at least.

When the first section revealed nothing, you moved on to another, and then another. You’d finish off the whole room before you’d give up. You had to help the prince in any way you could; if you couldn’t be with him, at least you could still be of use to him.

When you woke up, bright sunlight was already streaming into the room generously and your body ached in all kinds of places. You immediately knew you were in trouble. You’d fallen asleep slumped against a bookcase and were now most likely extremely late for your appointment in the gardens.

Tripping over your tunic, you burst through the library doors and onto the long deck. It was a humid and hot day. Up ahead in the distance, like tiny brown specs against the vibrant green grass, were the gardeners’ huts, where you were supposed to meet with everyone to start harvesting and putting together the flower pieces for the wedding.

Oh shoot, the wedding. The wedding was tomorrow. It was actually tomorrow. Not wanting to waste any more time than you already had, you jumped over the railing and tumbled into the grass below. One of your feet landed in something wet but that didn’t matter now. You ran to the huts, not caring about how the long grass and prickly bushes dirtied your clothes, but when you finally arrived, panting like a dog, there was no one there. Instead, a note hung lifelessly on your parents’ door.

Flower We’ve gone ahead and started harvesting See you soon

A huge wave of gratitude coursed through you at those words.

Thanks mother

You raced through the gardens, catching up with everything that was going on.

Thanks to your parents, you were still somewhat on schedule. Aside from delegating tasks, you helped in creating bouquets and garlands and wreaths in rich oranges and reds, as well as deep pinks and purples. The air was sticky and dense. Sweat crawled down your temples as you worked beside your parents, but you were glad for the hard labor; it distracted you. Your nails blackened and your hair filled with twigs and pollen. It felt good. You were surprised when the sun had only just started going down as the last of the decorations got finished.

“Don’t underestimate us,” you dad said with a grand smile, “I don’t know how you fancy people do it at the castle, but we work fast.”

You smiled back at him, glad to have made it in time.

You moved the decorations to a safe place they could be preserved until the morning, which took another hour or so but after that, you were all done. Tou Ma hadn’t even given you any other tasks for the day, which meant, you were free.

All at once, an unavoidable exhaustion took over you. The hot sun and humid air had drained your body that had grown unaccustomed to the life of a gardener. Another reason was probably the fact that you’d slept propped up against a bookcase the night before. A hot bath sounded amazing right about now. And after you might even be able to take a nap? Yes, that sounded good. You needed sleep.

Sighing and panting, you dragged yourself back to the castle. Instead of the main entrance, you chose a smaller door on the left wall that was meant for servants mostly. Coming around the corner you let out a sudden gasp, finding the door blocked by a broad-shouldered man with a long scar across his cheek.

“Identify yourself,” he said sternly, looking your muddy form up and down. The side door had never been guarded before. You supposed it was another wedding-related thing.

After explaining who you were and what you’d been doing outside, the man stepped aside, grunting something inaudible as you passed. Whatever, you thought, entering a modest-looking corridor. At least you’d be able to reach the maid’s quarters without running into—

“WHAT IS THIS MESS?!”

Tou Ma.

The tall lady strode towards you, looking like an underfed but furious bull.

“Look at the floors, they have been polished just this morning and now!” her voice reached a crescendo, “look at this! You want me to seizure!?”

"I'm sorry," you blurted out, "I've been preparing the flowers and—"

"Are they done?"

"They are—"

"So something has gone right today at least! Honestly it's suffocating, all this work in so little time I swear the emperor wants me to lose my marbles I've still got so much to do, this whole thing is ridiculous! Could they move the wedding to next week so the castle can prepare to its fullest abilities? Probably but will they? No, no of course they won't that would make my job too easy, wouldn't it?!"

You were staring into the face of a deranged woman. Tou Ma was sweating the white powder right off her face, fanning herself for dear life.

"Um," you tried, once the woman seemed to be taking a break to catch her breath, "is there anything I can help with?" You regretted the offer the moment the words left your lips but you couldn't stand seeing her this way. No matter how much the vile old woman tormented you, seeing her usually strong personality weakened like this made you feel sort of bad.

Tou Ma eyed you suspiciously for a few moments before she caved.

"Very well," she said, "you will run an errand for me. In my haste I forgot to bring the empress' scarf out with the rest of her robes for the celebration. They need to bask in the moonlight tonight."

"Of course," you replied, though you had no idea what she was talking about. Wealthy people really did have all kinds of strange rituals.

"They will be in her private chambers," she went on, "I'd fetch them myself but I'm on my way to a meeting with the chef and I've yet to go over the guest list with security and her majesty will need her bath before nightfall and I haven't had a scrap to eat since sunrise and—"

"That's alright," you cut in, for the head maid was panting again, "I'll grab her scarf and bring it to the deck, I guess?"

"The south east deck on the top floor, child, that's where we're leaving them out," Tou Ma explained, clutching her chest.

"Got it," you said, turning on your heels.

"It is a scarlet thing," Tou Ma call after you, "silk with gold-thread details."

"Okay," you called back as you made your way down the corridor.

"Child!" her screechy voice cried before you could round a corner, "I beg of you, wash up first will you?"

You did as you were told and had your bath. It was not the long, relaxing bath you'd hoped for but it did manage to wash away some of the exhaustion from your body. You allowed your muscles to relax for a few minutes, hopped out and hurried towards the royal quarters. You'd only ever visited Minghao's chambers; his parent's area was completely new territory. The place was guarded heavily by men who only let you in after a thorough interrogation and once inside, you realized you had no idea of where to look for the scarf.

You were in a rectangular room with shiny, red-toned walls and floors. It was completely bare save for the golden candelabras that lined the walls. Two black and gold doors that faced each other waited for you.

Clueless, you tried the first door. You knocked twice and waited until you were sure you weren’t disrupting something. When nothing happened, you opened it. You were met with complete darkness. With a bit of a struggle, you pulled free one of the candelabras from the hallway and entered the dark room.

It was extremely minimal. There were no windows. Only a simple bookcase and a large writing desk. Scrolls of parchment and bottles of ink lay spread out across it. Seeing them made you feel suddenly feel as though you were seeing something you weren’t supposed to. This was the emperor’s private study.

Backing away fast, you found yourself in the hallway once more. You tried the room opposite the study, entering after knocking. This room was anything but dark. The whole west wall was non-existent, giving sight to stretches of grassland and the mountains up in the far distance. As the sun set, it cast a breathtaking pink veil over the master bedroom. The bed, sitting on a raised platform was impeccably made. You could just envision Tou Ma arranging the perfectly white pillows by size, making sure not a single crinkle was left in sight. The room was so clean though, you couldn’t imagine the scarf would be here. There was no closet or dresser for it to hide in either, however, there was a small doorway in the corner of the room, half-covered by a silk curtain. As you approached you smelled the sweet aroma of incense. Gently pulling back the curtain, you peered inside, finding a room that was more or less the same size as the bedroom, but which felt smaller due to the abundance of stuff that was in it.

The walls were virtually covered with dressers, all identical, ornate and black lacquered. There were ottomans in various jewel tones on which piles of discarded robes lay, and in the corner stood a intricately carved wooden vanity with a mirror that reached the ceiling.

This must be it, you thought as you entered. You carefully went through the clothes on the stools. You wished you had time to admire their craftsmanship but Tou Ma’s exasperated expression kept your mind on the mission at hand. The vanity was cluttered with all kinds of trinkets you’d never seen before. You supposed there were the creams and powders used for beauty purposes. There were a couple of small drawers that opened to reveal more beauty products and a couple of scarves that clearly weren’t the one you were looking for. You began to feel tired again. Gingerly, you sat down in front of the vanity. Gazing at yourself in the mirror it occurred to you how much you didn’t belong in a room like this. You let your eyes drift over the the reflection of the cluttered space, until they landed on something they hadn’t noticed before. There was an unlocked chest sitting in a corner by the entrance. Multiple colored fabrics were spilling out from its mouth. You rose up and hurried over. There were so many scarves it was hard to make out where one piece of fabric ended and the next began. Getting impatient, you started pulling out the contents of the chest, keeping a lookout for anything scarlet and gold. Your heart sank however as you were reaching the bottom without having found something that even remotely looked like the empress’ wedding scarf. Not before long, the chest was empty, except for something dark and solid that lay all the way at the bottom, and bunches of fabric lay all around you on the floor.

What were you going to do? You’d promised Tou Ma.

Sighing, you peered into the chest. You now noticed the leftover item was a small book. You knew you should leave it alone; this was clearly an item the empress liked to keep to herself, but your curiosity got the better of you. You pulled the book out of the chest and held it up to the light. It was a small book, the brown leather cover a bit tethered and the gold writing on the front slightly faded. The golden lily, however, was still unmistakable.

You heart lurched as the title registered in your mind.

A Vast Unfathomable Secret.

It was right here in your hands; exactly as Minghao had described it. What wisdom was inside this little, brown book? And why was it here, in the empress’ wardrobe of all places? Nevermind. You forced your questions behind closed doors. None of those things mattered right now.

This was it: your chance to help Minghao.

You were at his door in no time and in your haste, you didn't even pause to knock before coming in.

"Minghao, I found it! I f—" you gasped as something warm crashed into you, sending you to the floor.

Minghao stood over you with a blank stare on his face. The coldness in his eyes sent a pang of doubt through your system. You shouldn’t have barged in like this. What were you thinking? Just as you were about to apologize and leave however, his eyes landed on the book clutched tightly in your hand. They widened, his eyebrows crinkling slightly, his lips opening in stunned silence.

"I found your book," you tried again, barely able to look at him.

Nothing happened for a good few seconds in which you wondered whether Minghao had fallen in some sort of trance, but then he knelt down beside you and took your hand. Your heart leapt as he pulled you up. His hand was so warm.

“You—” he said, staring from you, to the book held between you and then right back up to you. You noticed his eyes start to burn with intense emotion. He looked happy at first but you soon realized there was much more than joy behind his expression. He stared at you unblinkingly, standing perfectly still as a statue, but clearly waging a violent war within himself. You thought for a moment he might cry, his eyes turning sadder and sadder until, to your surprise, his lips formed the tiniest smile and he let out a sigh. You had not a moment to react to this strange turn of events because the next thing he did was grab tight hold of both your arms and kiss you.

This was nothing like the kiss you’d shared in the gardens. This kiss was the unleashing of desire. He held you close as his lips claimed yours with desperation. He did not let go when you thought he would and neither did you want him to. The book lay forgotten on the floor as, at last, you were all his. You felt his hand move up to your face, brushing a bit of your hair back, then cupping you by the back of the neck, begging you to stay close for those few last moments before, inevitably, reality struck.

He pulled back abruptly, looking completely stunned.

“You can’t tell anyone,” he said, his face swiftly filling with hurt again.

“Hao,” you replied, out of breath yourself, “wait,” because the prince was already pushing past you.

“I have the final wedding rehearsal,” he said, hurrying out the room before you could do anything to stop him.

You stood with yourself in quiet for quite some time, staring at the door.

Emotions were starting to bubble up inside you but you were so sick and tired of crying you forced your tears at bay by focusing on the only thing that could possibly distract you right now.

The book was still on the floor and now, it was begging to be read.

You sat down on the floor and picked it up. It didn’t feel heavy at all. You always imagined the book Minghao had been looking for would be huge; some grand exposition of wisdom. Maybe battle techniques? Or secret information on dragons, perhaps? But what could a tiny book like this one do to save an empire, or in the least, its prince? Heart pounding, you opened it, only to stare in confusion at something that made no sense to you at all.

Once upon a time, it read.

Once upon a time, there was a mountain. On that mountain stood a castle so tall it could reach the clouds in the sky and in it lived the great ruler. The ruler was very proud of his castle, because it stood taller than any other castle. The inhabitants of the castle sometimes complained about the cold winds that blew through the windows. They muddled up their long hair and blew away their paperwork. But of course this was all worth the magnificent views they got when they looked outside, according to the ruler. At the bottom of the mountain was a cave that lead to a whole underground town. In that town lived many people. Their days were clouded in darkness but the earth around them kept them warm and safe. One night, the ruler’s son was asleep when the wind whooshed right into his bedroom. It picked him up like a newborn baby and took him out through the window. The son shouted and cried for help but no one could hear him over the raging wind. The little boy shrieked all the way down until the wind plopped him down unto the grass. There he continued to cry in the darkness, helplessly, for no one would be able to hear him so far down. Little did the boy know, someone did hear him cry. All the way down in the cave town, a girl was sitting up in bed, wondering what that whining noise was. Curious, she crawled through the tunnels of her town, following the strange sound until she was at the mouth of the cave and saw the boy sitting in the grass. “What’s wrong?” she asked the boy. The boy jumped up at the sight of the girl, his cheeks flushing. “I fell down,” he answered. “From all the way up there?” the girl asked with big eyes. “Of course,” the boy said, “where else would I come from?” “I live in the ground,” the girl said, “how strange is this?” The boy and girl sat together in the grass, talking about their homes all night. The boy explained how cold his room was, and how the wind took his toys away from him, tales to which the girl hollered in disbelief. She then told him that she couldn’t even see her toys because it was so dark in her house and the boy laughed at how silly that was. When the sun came up the boy and the girl noticed a black dot in the sky. They watched as the dot grew bigger and bigger until the boy recognized his father. He was hanging from a big balloon that was slowly letting him down to the ground. “What is this?!” he bellowed when he noticed the girl. “She is my new friend,” replied the boy with a big smile, “she lives in a cave.” Just then, murmurings roused from the mouth of the cave. People emerged from it, chattering to one another until they set their eyes upon the scene in the grass. “What is this?!” they all cried at once. “He is my friend from the mountain,” said the girl, eyes sparkling, “the wind brought him to me.” The ruler and the cave people were outraged. It was plain as day that people from the castle shouldn’t get along with people who lived underground. “You should be ashamed of yourself!” shouted the ruler. “It’s a disgrace!” the cavetowners roared. The ruler grabbed his son by the arm and tied him to his big balloon, just as the cave dwellers took hold of the girl, dragging her back into the dark. Days and weeks and months passed and the boy and the girl didn’t meet, at least, that was the people around them thought. Every night, the boy crawled onto his father’s balloon while everyone else was asleep and drifted down below, where the girl would greet him with a smile and they would spend a wonderful time. Over time, the boy felt something grow within him; it was a secret. It started small as a little firefly, hovering around his empty chest. But by the time the boy was as tall as his father, the secret had become so vast and unfathomable, it was like a fiery blaze that enveloped him entirely. At any moment, he felt the secret might burst free. He could not let that happen. It frightened the boy so much, he began to keep his lips shut tight. When people around him spoke, he just stood by and watched. When his father asked him a question he simply nodded or shrugged. Only at night, when he ran free with the girl, did he open his mouth. The most beautiful sounds spilled out, laughter and song and shouts of glee. As he did so, he felt the secret grow and grow but he did not care in the night; he did not care how the inferno within him swelled against the confines of his body, how it roared on inside, begging to break free. As much as the boy ignored these happenings, like all secrets, break free, it did. He felt it rumble in his stomach first, then move up towards his throat, just as he’d sat down for breakfast. He clasped his neck in surprise. He wanted to shout at the people around him to hide, for the secret was surely coming, but not a second later, it exploded from his lips like a flaming tornado. It took over the room in an instant. Soon, the whole castle was set aflame. People cried for help but they were too far up for anyone to hear. They crawled up on the roof, shouting to the clouds in desperation but no one called back. Trapped by the flames, the boy knew only one thing to do. He heaved himself over the ledge of the dining room window and looked down. In a voice as loud as he could muster, he called for the girl. His ears picked up something of a reply but he couldn’t be sure; after all, the fire around him crackled obnoxiously loud. But she must be there, he thought, she would never abandon him. Gathering all his courage he leaned over the edge and let go, falling away from the castle and his father and the people who didn’t understand, towards the arms of freedom, where there was no need for secrets, where he was alright, just the way he was.

The book trembled in your hands as you finished the story. This was nothing like you’d imagined A Vast Unfathomable Secret to be about. So many things ran through your mind but right at the forefront was, overwhelmingly, Minghao. Minghao, Minghao, Minghao. All this time, you thought the book would reveal some kind of clever solution to help him save Namin. In the end, the book had revealed nothing more than his heart.

You knew you weren’t supposed to be here. You were probably supposed to check in with Tou Ma and help prepare for the celebration but you couldn’t do that. You had to see him, even if it meant watching him from the sidelines as he ran through his final wedding rehearsal. You were half hidden behind a wooden pillar, feeling as if your knees might give out. Minghao walked aside his mother to the front of the room, where a tall monk waited on a raised platform. The room wasn’t decorated properly yet but it had been filled with so much candlelight, the whole thing looked enchanting nonetheless. Zhong Mei came out as well, skin glowing in the warm firelight. She joined Minghao on the platform, facing him. There was a bit of a pause as Mei’s parents did some fervent explaining to the monk. The spectators in the room began murmuring amongst themselves. Your eyes never left Minghao though. He looked nervous. His cool mask wasn’t sliding on as easy as usual. He looked down for a long time before starting to scan the room. A shiver ran up your spine when his eyes suddenly met yours. He was quick to look away though. It seemed like Mei was saying something to him then because he nodded awkwardly at her in reply, though he couldn’t look at her.

Finally, Mei’s parents stepped aside and the monk stepped forward. He cleared his throat as he straightened out his robe, ready to start his speech.

BANG

A thunderous crashing sound broke the silence and the whole room shook.

104 notes · View notes

tttinytrash · 3 years ago

Text

Another of Shy’s lovely prompts! This time we have big Swap Papyrus as our merskele, and a highly unfortunate reader. Not much other preamble on this one, so let’s jump into it!

How had everything gone so wrong so fast?

The storm had come seemingly out of nowhere, and your tiny boat was being buffeted around like it was nothing. The icy sting of the wind-whipped rain juxtaposed terribly with the aching fire beneath your skin as you overworked muscles desperately tried to wrangle the lines to get you the heck out of this mess.

You lost your footing on the soaked deck and tumbled harshly, catching yourself on the rope around the perimeter of your boat just barely. You clung for dear life as a huge swell dangerously tilted your entire hull, threatening capsizing you and your only hope of getting out alive. It was in this moment you saw a faint orange glow beneath the waves, but you had absolutely no time to consider what it could be as you scrambled back to your position to try and regain control of the boat before you hit the rocky outcropping nearby.

You got your ropes again and fought like mad, but it quickly became futile as an enormous wave struck you along the starboard side and tossed you off the boat, into the rocks. Thankfully, you missed the worst of them but felt a sharp pain in your left leg. You fought back the pain and came back to air to see your boat had been mercilessly dashed into the rocks shortly after you, and had begun to sink.

You desperately paddled, kept aloft by your life jacket, but your safety gear was no match for whatever had apparently wrapped around your good leg and dragged you towards Davy Jones. You fumbled where you felt the pulling, realizing a rope from the boat was tangled around your leg. Thankfully your knife was still folded on your belt and you used it to saw off the rope. Without its pull you were rushing towards the surface again, but it seemed so far off you weren’t sure you’d make it from this depth. Is this how you left this world?

As your body was pulled upwards by your own paddling and the buoyancy of your vest, blackness creeped on the edge of your vision. ...and orange?

-----

Papyrus had felt the distress from a strong soul from deep below the waves. From his vantage point and because of his size the stormy currents were a novelty, but clearly for whoever had been caught above it was life or death.

...maybe he’d just go check on them, push their boat out of the worst of it and back towards shore. Yeah, that’s all. No biggie.

He came near the surface and saw it was lone human on a small boat. Jeez, how had they even lasted this long on their own? He was impressed, but looking for an opening in which he could help without being spotted. Humans spelled trouble for his kind, and despite the 0 EXP he saw in his Check he couldn’t not be wary. The last thing his bro or the rest of the school needed was hunters.

Unfortunately his caution meant the storm beat him to the punch, and smashed the ship. Oh Delta, was the human dead?

No! He could still feel the bright flare of determination somewhere... below him?

They were being dragged down by the wreckage, and as he darted towards them to free their leg he saw them do it themself. Oh gosh, they had a knife. The weapon made him hesitate again, which meant he felt their determination start to peter out. Their grip went slack as the knife fell away, consciousness slipping due to lack of air.

Curse him and his soft Soul!

He sped over, cupped his hands around them, and propelled them both towards air as fast as his fins could go. Delta let him not be too late...

The hoarse hacking when he made it to air was more of a relief than he’d expected, but after mostly clearing their lungs the fatigue won out and they collapsed into his hands They seemed barely aware and were just making drunken sounds, but their eyes did intermittently open.

During his observation, the waves of the storm actually managed to surprise him and dunk his skull underwater, but he managed to keep the human in the air thankfully.

There was nothing else for it, he had to take them in and get them both out of this mess.

He took a brief moment to spit out seawater so the human would have air, then slipped them into his mouth without much ado. Tossing his skull back brought them to the opening of his throat, and they weakly threw their arms out as if to steady themself. The sluggish movement hopefully meant they weren’t fully aware still, as he didn’t have any time for reassurances (he narrowly avoided being dunked again and the storm was getting even worse) and didn’t need a fighting human inside. One strong swallow brought them swiftly toward his core, at which point he left the surface.

One hand was absently brought to rest on his middle, where he felt the human slide in and go mostly still. He still felt the bright power of their soul, so they were alive, but they may have finally succumbed to exhaustion and passed out. That was fine by him, that left him time to figure out what the heck his next move would be.

-----

Wakefulness was slow to come back to you, and you spent a blissful moment in hazy awareness.

Sadly for you, memory snapped back into place in the next moment which made you to jolt upright. The rapid movement was more than your abused body wanted to handle, and it very clearly told you as much. Well apparently you had to take a breather, so you took stock of your condition. Your headache throbbed in time with your pulse, your muscles ached from overuse, and your throat and eyes hurt from saltwater, but you were alive. You looked to your legs, which were the areas that hurt worst. The left was a rainbow of bruises and may or not be able to be stood on, but you were both surprised and relived the underlying bone wasn’t utterly shattered from your unfriendly meeting with the rocks. Meanwhile the right had an ugly forming bruise and plenty of abrasion from the rope that had wrapped around you and dragged you down.

Oh, right. Now you recalled being dragged downwards after the destruction of your boat. So... what happened to you? You remembered rushing back towards the surface, but not reaching it.

Where were you?

You looked around and saw you were in a spacious cavern. The sand along the edge was widest where you sat, oddly bundled atop what was likely someone’s sail at one point. Maybe even yours. The center of the cavern, and indeed the majority of the “floor” so to speak was water. So this must have been an air pocket. How far underwater were you? How long would this air last? Then again, the cavern was huge for a single human so food and water would be the first priorities. But it was still concerning to have limited air supply.

Any planning ended when movement from the water caught your attention. A giant freaking skull of all things rose from the depths, followed by the rest of a skeletal torso adorned with an orange tail. Oh, god, the orange glow had been this thing?! What did it want?!

You were frozen in place, much to your chagrin and the monster before you focused its gaze on you. Oddly, it smiled when it spoke “oh good, you made it.”

“W-where am I? Who are you? What do you want from me?!”

He actually managed to quirk an eyebrow at you without having eyebrows. “in a cave, papyrus, and nothing.”

“...What?” Everything just felt too fast right now, but your panic did start to fade the longer the monster before you did a grand total of nothing towards you.

He laughed a little, surprising you enough to shake off a good chunk of panic and actually process that he’d been answering your questions.

“S-sorry. I’m a little scrambled right now.”

“got that part, yeah.” he teased.

You couldn’t help the laugh in response before replying “It was, Papyrus, right? I’m Y/N.”

“good to meetcha, kiddo. so, how much do you remember after your boat crashed?

“Not much. I was underwater last I recall, how did I get here?”

“didn’t miss a ton then. i fished you out, but with the storm it was best to bunker down for awhile. it’s still pretty nasty up there. i can take you back to shore when the storm lets up. for now, how’re your legs?”

“Not the best, but I’ll live.”

“lemme heal you up then.” he said, bringing his hand up towards you and approaching.

“Woah! Wait!” You scrambled to move away, only managing to tangle yourself in the sail and bring a wave of white hot pain to your left leg.

“right, big scary monster. got it.” He backed off, hands up in surrender.

You felt bad about it now, but couldn’t help that his sheer size made him intimidating. Even if he’d apparently been the reason you weren’t dead...

“let’s try from a distance then, show that i can help?” He formed a bone from nothing, glowing bright green and as big as your hand. Surprisingly, he shot the bone towards you, where it struck the bruising on the better leg and appeared to melt into the skin on contact.

You flinched, expecting pain from the impact, but found it just felt warm and tingly instead. Upon inspection, the soreness was diminished and the bruising was nearly gone. You looked up to Papyrus, mouth agape in wonder.

“heh, maaaagic~” he wiggled his fingers, clearly amused by your reaction. “can i help now?”

You hesitantly nodded, presenting your pretty busted leg. You two were stuck here for now, may as well give him a little leeway.

You didn’t scramble away at his approach this time, but couldn’t help but tense up anyways. He gingerly brought his hands forward, laying the very tips of his long, thin fingers atop the damaged limb far more gently than it seemed should be possible for such large hands. Even the feather light touch made you flinch momentarily before his phalanges started to glow the same green as the launched bone had been. Warmth seeped into your leg, and it felt like a warm blanket on a cold rainy day. The energy being transferred somehow carried a sense of benevolence, which made you feel safe.

“we’re lucky it’s your tibia that got the worst of it. bones are my specialty, for obvious reasons.” He said, smiling a little at the final comment.

You chuckled at his observation, “I can see why. And, uh, thank you for everything, I don’t think I actually said that yet.”

“eh, don’t mention it.”

For how odd this whole encounter was, it wasn’t so bad at all.

-----

Well, as comfortable as the human had gotten with him (not feeling the fear radiating off them after awhile was such a gratifying feeling) he still wasn’t looking forward to getting them out of here. He kinda knew this was gonna be rough, but with the storm outside finally quelled he needed to get this little human back home.

He had left the cave to assess the storm, but his thoughts were completely focused on how to make the next steps easier. So distracted, he almost swam past the entrance to the cave entirely. Luckily he snapped out of it and was able to redirect to enter the cave. The human perked up as soon as his skull crested the water, and he didn’t fight the smile in reply.

“ready to go back topside, squishy?” he asked.

“The storm is gone?” The human asked hopefully.

“yep, won’t be any trouble.”

“Ok so how do we do this? Are you just going to cup me in your hands, or...?”

“ah, about that. we’re pretty deep down, i don’t think you’d make it back to air just holding your breath.”

“Oh, well how did i get here then?”

“same way you’ll gave to get back, i just played submarine. i’ll just take you in, and you get to relax while i take us back towards the nearest port.”

“...I don’t follow.”

They were confused and hesitant, but not outright scared yet. That was good. The hope was that being casual and forward about it would play off the trust he’d already built, “it’s totally safe, but the short version is i’d swallow you and let you out later.”

There was the inevitable flare of fear, but it wasn’t as strong as it could have been. “Safely? You’re sure?”

“yep. you’ve already done it, but i’m not surprised you don’t remember given your state when i found you.”

They were silent, but a plethora of emotions swirled around them. He could easily feel their distress without even trying.

Better try reassurance and appealing to logic, then. “kiddo, if i’d wanted to hurt you, wouldn’t i have already done it?” he kept his voice soft, non-accusatory, and gave them space to think.

His words seemed to have cut through their clouded emotions and they nodded after a moment. “Yeah... you would have. Ok. If that’s how I get home, let’s do it. Can you just... make it quick? To uh... get me inside, that is.”

“you want me to just do it for ya?” he asked, somewhat surprised.

“Yeah, get it over with. I don’t want to think about that part too much if I’m being honest.”

“alright, can’t say i blame you.” He gently scooped the human into his hands, and his Soul sunk a little at how much they’d curled in on themself. “you can close your eyes if you want, i’ll tell you when it’s done.”

They took his advice, and he saw them cycle a steadying breath. Well, they’d said make it quick so...

He pinched the back of their shirt, hung them over his open mouth, and lowered them in. He was able to release them and the slight drop brought their legs into his throat. The extra space meant their head was fully behind his teeth, so he closed his mouth around their warm body. He felt their hands flutter blindly around the area as if they were fighting the urge to stop their descent. He decided to keep going, even if it felt a little wrong when they were so clearly anxious, to comply with their request for speed.

One swallow brought their hips down, and he felt his throat dip into the small of their back. Another gulp and he felt their ribcage stretch the ectoflesh around them, and a third brought their form fully inside his. He brought his hand up to trace their downward journey, until he lost them past his clavicles. He felt them spill into his belly a few seconds later, limbs flailing outwards as they startled in the suddenly more open space.

He didn’t think they really needed him to tell them, but went ahead and said it anyways “ok kiddo, that’s the whole trip. i’ll give you a sec to get your bearings before we head off.” While they settled, he leaned his spine along the sandy embankment in the cave and bought his hands to fold over his belly in concern for his worried passenger.

They did start to move around, movements shaky and uncertain. He didn’t comment, letting them figure things out as they pleased. Their tactile approach did feel pretty nice, actually, but he didn’t outwardly react for fear of discouraging them. Whatever observations their pawing at the walls and floor were helping them make was lessening the fear exponentially.

After a while he hesitantly asked “you doing ok in there?”

Their tiny voice sounded a little odd coming from so very close, “Y-yeah. I’m good. ...I’m good...”

“good. told you it was safe. how do you feel?”

“Confused? Overwhelmed? ...I’ve got a dumb question though.”

He laughed, which seemed to have knocked them over since he felt an impact inside. “whoops, sorry kiddo. but if you’ve got questions you can ask.”

“...What does this feel like for you?”

That surprised him, and he fumbled for something to say beyond “good.” They took up space, which was helpful considering it’d been awhile since his last meal. Definitely wouldn’t bring that up though, for fear of scaring them.

“Papyrus?”

Shoot, had he been silent for that long? “sorry, surprised me there. uh, i guess this feels protective? kinda feels good, like a hug?”

“But you can feel me in here?”

“of course. you’re right here,” he lightly pressed in where he could feel their weight, and heard the squeak of surprise in response.

The squeak devolved into laughter, and they hesitantly pushed back at his invading hand.

He chuckled and relented on the pressure, “alright, that one wasn’t even dumb. any more questions?”

“I guess that was the big one. Think I’m set to go.”

“cool, hold tight then.” He pushed off the sand, ducked out of the cave, and headed towards human civilization.

The human slid around due to the drastic shifts in gravity, but resettled relatively quickly.

After a bit, Papyrus offered “i can let you see where we’re going if you like.”

“You can do that?” they sounded excited at the prospect.

He turned his magic from opaque to transparent in reply, earning a happy gasp from the human as they quickly readjusted to take the best advantage of the view. He went quiet again, happy to let them enjoy the views of the ocean most human weren’t afforded.

This really wasn’t how he’d planned for his day to go, but he couldn’t really say this experience left him disappointed.

With any luck, maybe he’d get to see this little sailor out on the sea again.

#undertail vore #undertail underswap #soft vore #safe vore #extreme cuddling

23 notes · View notes

mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years ago

Text

GLOW (one-shot)

Part of the Stray Wolves Series

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Changbin (SKZ)

Warnings: language, smut, some dirty talk, mentions of knotting, and there’s fluff at the end because I can’t help myself

Genre: Werewolf AU; Marriage AU; Sequel

Word Count: 3.3K

Summary: Changbin was rather overprotective of their unborn pups, but Y/N knew that he was just doing his best for his future family. However, she still has those days where she misses their nights of intimacy, and Y/N might have a few tricks up her sleeve when it comes to seducing her hesitant mate.

It was too early in the morning to deal with the dawning sunlight penetrating the floral curtains in my bedroom. I was certain that the outside world had decided to disturb the lingering effects of slumber that refused to let me open my eyes. I tried to ignore the natural alarm clock, burying myself closer against my mate as he slept next to me. For whatever reason, Changbin had figured out a way to block out the effects of the morning sun, even as the angle drew waves of light across the room.

There was only so much that my sensitive eyesight could take before I was forced to abandon the prospect of more sleep. And I thought that it was unfair that Changbin should continue to sleep peacefully while I suffered alone. “Binnie,” I whispered, clinging almost desperately to Changbin’s outstretched limbs. I mostly blamed the pregnancy hormones because every active instinct was begging me for Changbin’s attention.

“Y/N?” Changbin answered groggily, voice thick with sleep as he squinted his eyes to look at me. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head, letting him know that it wasn’t a big deal. “Hormones.”

“Yeah?” Changbin replied with a chuckle, using one strong arm to drag me even closer.

I allowed him the close contact, enjoying the calming warmth emanating from his bare chest. It might’ve been a simple solution to my morning light predicament, especially when Changbin started to brush his fingers through my hair in a gentle rhythm. My eyelids fluttered in delight, hands finding purchase against his smooth skin. But when Changbin started to move himself into an upright position, I immediately released a pathetic whine, clawing at him to return next to my side. “What are you doing?”

“I’m scheduled for a hunting patrol,” Changbin replied, and he easily unwound my arms from around his trim waistline. And I gave up on any attempts that could’ve convinced him to return to our shared bed, finding a comfortable position on my back as I clung to the remnants of sleep. However, when I approached the precipice of unconsciousness once again, something cold and wet touched my arm, and I groaned in complaint when I realized that it was Changbin’s nose. I studied him from my vulnerable state as my mate somehow managed to crawl over top of me.

“Changbin,” I whined, feeling pressured from the overbearing warmth of his upper body as he sniffed across my stomach. “You’re gonna get them all riled up!”

“How are they?” he asked, with just a faint hint of a soothing purr at the back of his throat. The question itself was in reference to our unborn pups, growing each day as we progressed closer to my due date.

They must’ve been able to detect the presence of their father, moving uncomfortably inside as I squirmed around on the bed. “The pups are fine,” I said, rolling my eyes playfully when Changbin pressed a hand to the swell of my stomach.

His smile was contagious, eyes bright with pride as he felt the evidence of the little pups. “What about you?” Changbin asked, looking up at me with the dark eyes that I adored.

“Well, let’s see.” I grinned. “The morning sickness is there, and I feel bloated and sore and strangely horny...”

Changbin scoffed, sitting back on his haunches. “I can’t do much about the first two.”

“Oh?” I asked, feeling the familiar coils of desire lighting themselves from somewhere deep inside of me. “And the third?”

Changbin smirked before he crawled off the bed, leaving me to whine after him. “What am I supposed to do when I’m scheduled to hunt?”

“You can still give me your cock,” I said, and my mouth started watering at the prospect, eyeing the familiar bulge in his dark pants.

“Shameless,” he remarked, pressing a sloppy kiss to the side of my head before he started for the door. “I’m leaving, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” I huffed, watching Changbin until the door blocked him from my line of vision.

In the meantime, I was left to my own devices, and I found myself in good company with a close friend. Even though Chan’s mate was younger than me, I still enjoyed her comforting presence when there wasn’t much for me to handle during my pregnancy. Despite my wolf’s desire to run out into the woods and explore the territory, I was forced to withhold those urges and keep myself inside the camp. But at least I could still try to prove useful, stitching together a sweater for my unborn pup while Chan’s mate regaled me with stories of the outside world.

“That looks...interesting?” she offered once I held up the pathetic excuse for a sweater that I had just made. It turned out that my stitching skills needed more work.

“I wanted to make them something nice,” I pouted, studying the intricate sweater design and wondering where I had went wrong.

“It takes time,” she said, and I knew that it was only an attempt to make me feel better.

“Well, I have plenty of that,” I muttered, and I found my wandering gaze searching a returning patrol because I missed the familiar freedom of shifting.

Chan’s mate seemed to notice the change in my mood, offering me a helping hand as we both stood up together. “Why don’t we go to the nursery?” she suggested. “We can visit some of the younger pups.”

I nodded at the idea, brightening at the prospect. “I’d love that.”

She giggled, offering me an arm to assist me as we made our way to the other side of the camp where the nursery was carefully maintained. It provided the most protection, especially during times of potential conflict, and we nodded at our pack mates who were guarding the entrance, receiving polite bows in return. After all, we were the mates of our pack’s alpha and beta, which meant a lot considering the reliance that we had on hierarchies.

However, I still wasn’t used to seeing my pack mates show me that kind of respect, and I almost resented my position. But in any case, I was relieved to distract my thoughts with the overwhelming sweet smell of milk, and I couldn’t resist cooing at the sight of the little pups playing at the center of the room. It was definitely post-naptime for most of them, and I smiled as they shifted at whim, colliding together as they wore off their accumulated energy.

“Y/N,” one of the mothers greeted me, beckoning me closer while she held a tiny pup in her arms.

“Hello,” I said, lowering my voice so as not to startle the small pup.

“I can’t believe Changbin let you wander around the camp,” she joked, and I rolled my eyes playfully.

“Cabin fever,” I offered in return, and she laughed before nodding down at the pup who was looking at me with wide eyes.

“This is my daughter,” she said. “I think she likes you.”

“Really?” I asked, crossing my legs underneath me as I settled down on the floor. “It’s nice to meet you.”

The younger pup whined, but looked to her mother for guidance. “Go ahead! You can talk to Y/N.”

The pup still hesitated before leaving the safety of her mother��s arms to stand in front of me. “Hi.”

I smiled at the pup’s timid voice, and I instinctually smoothed a hand down the front of my stomach. “Would you like to feel them?” I asked, and younger pup nodded as I led her hand to my stomach.

At the first kick she felt, the pup immediately jumped back, holding her hand close to her chest as she looked at me with wide eyes. “Did you feel that?” I asked, and she nodded. “Those are my pups.”

There was a little gasp from the younger girl, and she looked positively mystified at the interesting development. Meanwhile, I noticed that a familiar scent had permeated the milky smell of the nursery, and I didn’t even need to turn around to notice Changbin’s return. “I helped make them,” Changbin added with a proud smile.

“Don’t say that,” I groaned, rolling my eyes as I shot the pup’s mother an apologetic look.

“It’s fine,” the mother assured me, and she opened her arms for the curious little pup who didn’t hesitate to snuggle close.

“She’s beautiful,” I told her, and she nodded in gratitude. “Changbin,” I finally said, turning around to look at my mate. “I thought you were busy.”

“The patrol ended early,” Changbin explained. “We found a lot of prey by the riverside.”

“Oh?” I grinned, holding out my hand for him, which my mate didn’t hesitate to accept. “Does this mean we can go back to the cabin and cuddle?”

Changbin laughed at my request, but his hand was firm around my waist as we both waved at Chan’s mate who was still busy playing with a rambunctious group of older pups. “Whatever you want,” Changbin said, burying his nose close to my scent gland. “But first, we need to find you something to eat.”

I groaned at that idea because my appetite had been all over the place since the start of my pregnancy. But I knew that I couldn’t skip another meal, so I allowed Changbin to dote on me, finding us something delicious as we settled next to our pack mates in the communal dining room. It was comfortable and nice, and I kept my hand wrapped around Changbin’s as I answered questions about my unborn pups, feeling my wolf’s satisfaction at having the ones she loved so close where she liked them the most.

Later that night, Changbin and I returned to our shared cabin. As the pack Beta, our living quarters were located close to the alpha’s, and we enjoyed the privacy of the secluded living arrangements. Because when we first mated, Changbin and I often snuck away to our cabin throughout the day, unable to keep our hands to ourselves.

I considered those instances as part of the “honeymoon” phase of our relationship, and I sometimes longed for the intimacy that we shared. Unfortunately, Changbin had decided that we both needed to remain celibate during my pregnancy, for reasons that defied my rational understanding. Of coure, I was also convinced that he still liked to tease me on purpose. For example, I bit my lower lip to keep myself from moaning at the sight of Changbin re-emerging from our shared bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. And I took a deep breath, smoothing my hand down my stomach. “How was your day?”

“It was fine,” Changbin said, reaching for a pair of loose black pants. I watched him drop his towel with a heavy exhale.

“What did Chan say about his meeting with the Vampire King?” I asked.

“I think it’s a territorial dispute,” Changbin said, and he sounded perfectly nonchalant, matching the easy way that he was tying the drawstring of the same pants that were hugging his outline of his ass.

“So, everything is good?” I asked, studying the delicious lines of his muscles as he started walking towards the bed.

"We’ll have it sorted out,” Changbin said, and he smiled at me before brushing a gentle kiss across my lips.

I moaned at the taste of him, and it was the opportunity that I had been looking for after all this time, tightening one of my hands against the back of his neck to hold him close. Changbin released a noise of surprise, and I used the advantage to run my tongue across the seam of his lips. Because the sensation was addictive, and it had been a while since I kissed Changbin like this.

“Y/N,” Changbin whispered, breaths heavy as he kissed me in return, passionate and sensual exchanges of oxygen and the warm, wet sensation of his tongue against mine.

“Please, Changbin,” I whined, palming at his cock while giving him a look that I hoped he wouldn’t be able to resist.

He sighed in response, settling down next to me on the bed. “Y/N,” he repeated, and I could see the familiar doubt reflecting heavy in his gaze. “What if I hurt them?” Changbin asked, hesitating even as his cock started to fill out the impressive bulge in his black pants.

“Come on!” I groaned, throwing one of my legs over his hip to leisurely grind my wet heat against his erection. “I’m pretty sure that’s impossible.”

I traced my hands along the smooth contours of his chest, looking into his eyes while tweaking one of his nipples. “Hey!” Changbin protested, and I grinned in response before sucking on the sensitive peak.

I pulled off with an obscene pop, tracing my lower lip with my tongue. “You can’t tell me that you don’t want it.”

I traced the outline of his cock to prove my point, tightening the fabric to create an obscene image. “Seriously, Changbin? How many times do I have to tell you that it’s okay? I’m ready to beg at this point.”

“Y/N.” Changbin sighed, closing his eyes and throwing back his head while I continued to stroke him through his pants. Soft, seductive touches, and I successfully bunched the fabric of his pants separating the two of us before adding pressure to his sensitive cockhead. Changbin moaned in response, eyes flying open as he looked at me with nothing but pure lust reflected in his delicate orbs.

I released a breathy gasp when he abruptly switched our positions, using his strength to crawl over me with a smirk. “Was I convincing?” I asked him, moaning when he started to undo the string on my shorts. The thin fabric was forced down my legs, and I watched them fall into the floor while Changbin made a show of pushing my thighs apart.

“Does this little pussy need some attention?” he asked, raising one brow while keeping his eyes fixed on mine. It was intentionally provocative, especially when his tongue made a single stripe along the crease of my labia.

“Fuck,” I cursed, reaching down for the smooth strands of his hair, holding on for dear life as my legs started shaking.

Changbin growled in response, flicking his tongue against my clitoris while his fingers parted my folds, studying my leaking cunt with unwavering focus. “You’re dripping for me,” he said, and I nodded while hooking my thighs around his hips, guiding his clothed erection against where I wanted him the most.

“Changbin,” I groaned, watching him through heavy eyes as he removed his pants and boxers, leaving him completely naked and on display for my eyes as I made a leisurely exploration of his powerful form. Nothing but raw and sensual power that I had seen for myself in his defined biceps, and I often found myself hypnotized by the thick curves that built his torso.

“I’ll give you my cock, slut,” he hissed, gripping himself at the base as he gave himself several strokes to full hardness.

I started panting when he inserted just the tip, examining my face for any sign of discomfort. “It’s fine,” I huffed, impatiently trying force myself onto his cock since he was going far too slow for my liking.

“We’ll do this at my pace,” Changbin said, and there was an undeniable command behind his words that left me whimpering. I nodded in response, doing my best to appease him, as he slowly drove his cock all the way inside until his hips were flush against mine.

“Faster,” I whispered, throwing my head back because I was feeling pleasure from my mate for the first time since I discovered that I was pregnant. At some point, a girl will start to miss moments like this, drooling into the pillow while her big, strong alpha used his cock to bring her closure to the edge. “I’m not gonna last long.”

Changbin hummed in response, reaching down to apply a powerful grip on my hips as he started moving me at his command, looking down to watch his cock penetrate the convulsing walls of my leaking pussy. There was a pleasant friction as he stretched me out around his erection, and I savored the familiar sensation that I had been denied for so long - the kind of feeling that I had discovered for myself when Changbin mated me for the first time, searing his mark into the soft flesh of my neck while he drove his cock inside at a maddening pace.

It had been so long since I had experienced the thickness of his cock, and I could feel myself growing dizzy because my body wasn’t used to the familiar coils of my orgasm building in rapid succession. I was practically choking around stuttered moans when Changbin decided to abandon his previous reservations concerning our coupling. At this point, his hips were thrusting so fast that I could hardly perceive the motion, and I could feel every inch of his thick erection sliding against my walls while his knot started to catch against my vulva.

“Shit, Y/N,” Changbin snarled, and his leaned down to inhale at my scent gland. But the change in angle was exactly what I needed, and I could feel him hitting against my g-spot over and over again when I finally released months of built-up tension in a loud moan that I could barely contain.

Changbin followed shortly thereafter, smacking hips against my ass as he lifted me higher into the air, stuffing his cock so deep that I could feel him all the way at the head of my uterus. He then came with a loud groan, sweat perspiring against the hard planes of his chest, and he pulled himself free before his knot could trap us in place.

I could feel my mouth gaping open at the sight of his knot, watching as he continued stroking himself before tapping the head of his cock against my lips. “Open up for me,” he snarled, and I instantly obeyed his order, unclenching my jaw as I widened my mouth for his cock - taking him in until the tip touched the back of my throat and I gagged because it was borderline too much. “What a good girl,” he said, and I manged to run my tongue around the bulge of his knot as it pressed against my lips - whimpering when he used me as nothing more than another hole for his cum.

And he tasted bitter when I finally swallowed, choking around most of his release because it had been a while since I had given Changbin head. However, it was worth the effort to hear his sinful moans, gasping for breath when he pulled his flaccid length from my mouth. “Y/N,” he said, and his voice was far more gentle. “Let me run you a bath.”

I nodded in response because my throat was still too sore to manage any sort of verbal confirmation. Meanwhile, Changbin chuckled at my condition, and I focused on calming my racing heart while I heard the sound of running water from our bathroom. “I just took a shower,” he remarked upon his return, and I held tightly to him when he lifted me into his arms, carrying me into the bathroom with absolute ease.

I sighed in relief when I rested my head against his chest, submerged in the warm water as our hands interlocked on top of my stomach. “When they get here,” Changbin whispered, lips tracing the shape of my ear. “I’ll do my absolute best to protect all of you.”

I smiled at the sentiment, savoring this perfect moment even though I knew that there would be many more to come.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids writer #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids one-shot #seo changbin #stray kids changbin #stray kids changbin fanfic #seo changbin fanfic #seo changbin smut

344 notes · View notes

webslinger-holland · 5 years ago

Text

Baby Holland | Tom Holland

Summary: A compilation of cute little moments during the reader’s unplanned pregnancy with Baby Holland…

Warning: major cuteness and mentions of pregnancy

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Type: Oneshot (I will write more of these if requested)

MASTERLIST

The early morning sun was starting to rise. The vibrant colors of the sunrise were spreading across the long length of the skyline. The yellow sunlight was filtering through the light white clouds, signaling the end of the rainy season. The air was very clear.

The air was so cold yet the trees were on fire. The leaves were showcasing those nice vibrant colors of red, orange, and yellow. The grass was just starting to dry out in the fall season. The water droplets were lingering on the tops of the velvety green leaves of the large forest trees. The puddles were making the ground nice and damp. It was fall.

The pretty songbirds were flying through the blue skyline, heading towards the rough dry ground. The little birds were hopping around, pecking at the ground. Afterwards, the little birds would return back to the quaint little nests in the heights of the tallest trees. A new batch of little baby birds were lingering in the rustic contents of the warm nest, opening their little beaks in a demanding manner. The little squeaks of the baby birds were signaling the beginning of their never ending appetites.

At the given moment, Y/N had been sleeping the whole morning away with her dear sweet husband. She could feel her husband’s forearm wrapped around her waist, gently coaxing her into his grasp. Her back was pressed against his bare chest, so she wasn’t able to see his sleeping figure. She weaved her fingers through his own that lay across her stomach, savoring the sweet moment between the two of them.

However, she could feel this strong wave of nausea taking over her senses. Her stomach was lurching in a rough manner, gurgling with the most unpleasant noise. She tasted something tangy at the back of her throat. She tried to force down the bile, but it wouldn’t do any good.

Without hesitation, Y/N had forced herself to scramble out of her bed. She had hurried towards the master bathroom, slamming the wood door open in desperation. She didn’t even acknowledge that the noise had awoken her sleeping husband. She dropped down to her knees in front of the toilet bowl, feeling the vomit coming up her throat.

Her body heaved. She couldn’t seem to stop the chunks of food covered in the creamy chyme from coming out of her mouth. Her stomach kept on contracting violently and forcing everything out of her system.

She didn’t even notice the gentle fingers pulling her long hair out of her face. Her dear husband was towering over her smaller figure, staring down at her with a look of concern on his face. He rubbed her back in a very soothing manner, whispering some words of encouragement to her.

The vomit came up looking like clam chowder and smelling like pure acid. The wave of nausea was slowly starting to subside within her body. The pungent stench invaded her nostrils and she heaved even though there was nothing left in her.

Her throat felt sore from the stomach acid that was layering it. Her mouth was coated in the strong aftertaste of her own vomit. Her soft eyes were starting to water at the awful feeling in her stomach. She whimpered to herself. She just felt absolutely horrible. And she had for quite some time.

“This is the fifth time this week,” Tom claimed. He did not hesitate to lean down to plant a soft kiss on the top of her head. He slipped his hand around her body, rubbing her stomach to soothe her. He looked down at her. “Don’t you think we should take you to see the doctor?” Tom questioned.

“I am sure that it’s nothing to worry about, Tom.” She dismissed him. She wiped the back of her hand against her mouth, cleaning the small amount of residue forming at the corner of her mouth. She made a noise of disgust. “We had dinner at that exotic place that week. It just didn’t agree with me,” she claimed.

“I would still like to be sure,” Tom whispered. He turned his head to look down at her, waiting for some kind of response. He could see the faint nodding of her head, which meant that she was compliant with him. He smiled at her weakly. “I am gonna get your coat and shoes,” Tom said.

Slowly, Tom excused himself to that he could gather their things. He walked into the bedroom, heading towards the dresser on the other side of the room. He pulled out a random shirt, throwing it over his head. He also grabbed one of his old sweatshirts. He took the car keys off the top of the dresser.

Meanwhile, Y/N had closed the lid of the toilet. She flushed the contents of her stomach, so that she wouldn't have to look or smell it every again. She forced herself to stand to her feet, feeling slightly uneasy with each step. She stood in front of the mirror, staring at her own reflection in the glass mirror.

She looked absolutely miserable. She had these dark circles underneath her eyes from the distinct lack of sleep. Her long locks of hair were tangled and tousled with knots. She wasn’t wearing any makeup either, which only added to the fact that she looked like a complete mess. She almost couldn’t stand to look at herself.

For some unknown reason, Y/N had thought of something that was given to her a long time ago. She wondered if that thing might be able to help her identify whatever was happening to her body. She also knew exactly where she had kept the little trinket.

Hesitantly, Y/N had dropped back down to her knees in front of the cupboard underneath the sink. She opened the doors of the cabinet. She started searching through the various feminine supplies and rolls of toilet paper, finding the little box at the back of the cupboard. She held a pregnancy test in her hands.

She could clearly remember when the pregnancy test was given to her. It was on the night of her bachelorette party nearly two years ago. It had been a gift from her closest friends. It was meant to be a sort of ‘gag gift.’

She didn’t think much of it at that time. She simply threw it under her sink so that—if she ever needed it—she would be able to find it easily in its convenient spot. Now she would finally have need of it after two years.

With shaky hands, Y/N flipped the small box over so that she would be able to read the instructions. She lifted her hand to close the bathroom door, heading back towards the toilet bowl. She was able to finish every single step within a few moments. She set the test on the back of the bowl.

In the meantime, Y/N was trying to brush her teeth in the most thorough manner. She just wanted to get the disgusting taste of bile out of her mouth. When she had finished brushing her teeth, she had decided to splash some water on her face. She cleaned her hands with a small towel, glancing towards the small test through the corner of her eye. It wouldn’t be long now.

The small cheap beeping noise had started coming from the pregnancy test on the back of the toilet bowl. The final result would either show one line for negative or two lines for positive. It wasn’t the most accurate thing sometimes.

She had forced herself to walk towards the small test. She was very hesitant to take the test into her hands, but she was able to do it. She had dropped her gaze to stare down at the results, feeling her breath hitching in the back of her throat. She could see two evident lines on the test. She was pregnant.

Slowly, Y/N had walked out of the bathroom with the small test in her hands. She had watched her husband scurrying around the bedroom in attempts to collect every single little thing that they might need for the drive. She called his name.

“Are you ready to go?” Tom questioned. He had turned to look towards her in his own place, but he had stopped in his tracks upon seeing the fresh tears gathering in her eyes. His heart had practically dropped into his stomach at the mere sight. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Tom wondered.

“It’s not food poisoning,” Y/N whispered. She had shook her head at her own comment. She had forced herself to swallow the heavy lump lingering at the back of her throat. She could feel the new salty tears streaming down her face.

“It’s not? What is it then?” Tom challenged. He had shifted to take one single step forward in his place, staring at her with a strong hint of curiosity in his brown eyes. He couldn’t imagine what would have been wrong.

“I’m...I’m pregnant,” Y/N choked on her own choice of words. She was hesitant to show him the small test in her hands. She could feel a sudden buildup of emotions gathering in the back of her mind, which took over her senses with such ease. She didn’t know how her husband was going to react.

However, Tom was barely able to process his own emotions that were coursing through his train of thought. He felt a strong sense of shock and surprise, but he also felt an insane amount of happiness in the depths of his heart. He couldn’t even find the right words to express his emotions to her.

“You’re pregnant?” Tom whispered.

“It makes sense,” Y/N claimed. She was quick to list the various symptoms that she had been experiencing lately that would have correlated with the signs of pregnancy. “I have been so nauseas recently. I have these mood swings all the time. I didn’t even realize it at first, but I was also late on my period.” She confessed.

Her husband was still trying to process the mere thought in his mind. He was almost thinking too hard about it. He had only briefly talked about having kids with her. He told her that he wanted to wait a few years after they had gotten married. He defiantly wasn't expecting this, but he was completely overjoyed at the thought.

“You are angry with me. You said that you didn’t want to have any kids right away—” she had started to ramble.

“What? No!” Tom exclaimed. He took a few steps in his place. He stood directly in front of her. He brought his hands to the sides of her face, rubbing her cheeks with the pad of his thumb. He could feel the smile growing at the corners of his lips. “I am just surprised. We are having a baby,” Tom sighed.

In response, Y/N found herself smiling at his sweet words. She had released a small breathy laugh before nodding her head in confirmation. She stared up at him with a spark in her eyes, thinking about their bright future together with a little one on the way. She couldn’t wait for it.

His lips brush against her own in the most passionate kiss. His lips was warm and gentle. He slanted her head further, deepening the kiss. His hands were wrapped around her waist and her arms locked around his neck to pull him down slightly. His smile would only grow bigger.

Within a few moments, the two of them were forced to pull away from each other. He drew her closer to him. He had lifted her off the floor as if she didn’t weight anything at all. His strong forearms were tightly wrapped around her small waist, holding her against him. He began nuzzling her neck with delicate kisses. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear.

“That’s...that’s wonderful,” Tom smiled. He was very hesitant to lower her back onto the ground, because he wanted nothing more than to just hold her in his arms forever. He looked down at her like she just had handed him the whole world. “It’s absolutely wonderful. You’re wonderful,” Tom breathed.

“We should schedule an appointment with the doctor,” Y/N suggested. She grabbed onto his hand in her own, lacing their fingers together. She pressed one quick kiss to his lips. She smiled brightly up at him. “We can confirm it there,” Y/N concluded.

It had been nearly an entire week before the young couples scheduled appointment at the doctor’s office. They were currently waiting in the small examination room. They were just waiting for the doctor to come back with the test results.

Currently, Tom was pacing the short stretch of the room. He had the very tip of his thumb in his mouth, biting down on his nails out of habit. He just had this uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“You’re making me nervous,” Y/N confessed. She had a strong look of concern and worry on her face. She had dropped her gaze to stare down at her hands in her lap, fiddling with her fingers in a nervous manner. She let out a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry,” Tom sighed. He didn’t mean to make her nervous, but he was very impatient to find out the test results. He walked across the small room, settling down in the seat next to her. He took her hand in his own.

In that moment, the doctor had opened the door and walked into his office. He was sure to close the door behind him for privacy reasons. He shuffled to stand in front of the young couple, stopping in his place. He was holding onto a clipboard in his hands, which no doubt had the test results on them. He smiled at them.

“I should congratulate you! It looks like your tests came back positive,” the doctor claimed. He had just briefly flipped through the pages on his clipboard. He was able to determine that she was eight weeks into her pregnancy. “You are pregnant,” he confessed.

The couple had turned their heads to look at each other with wide smiles on their faces. The doctor wanted to do an ultrasound just to check the baby’s vitals and to make sure the baby was healthy.

The doctor started to prepare the ultrasound machine. He flipped a few switches and clicked a few buttons. The expecting future mother was currently laying examiner’s table. She lifted her shirt just high enough to expose her flat stomach. The doctor had smeared this cool gel onto her stomach, shifting to move the cursor through the weird sticky stuff.

Suddenly, a heavy thumping sound was starting to come from the machine. The tiny tympanic heartbeat was the only sign that a new life had begun within her. However, that would soon change when the screen’s monitor showed the a black and white fuzzy picture. There was a very small figure in the center of the screen. It was the baby.

At eight weeks, the baby was about the size of a small berry. He pointed out that the head was here and the body was there. He claimed that baby’s vitals were perfectly normal. He also said that the baby was perfectly healthy and growing naturally. He took a few pictures of the screen to print out for them.

“Would you look at that? That’s our baby,” Tom said with the biggest smile on his face. He was just staring down at the little picture in his hands, claiming that he was going to put it in his wallet so he could keep it close to him. He pecked his wife’s lips in a loving manner. “I love you,” Tom whispered.

When it came time to tell their friends and family about the news of their pregnancy, the young couple decided that they only wanted to tell a few select people for privacy reasons. They wanted to keep the pregnancy out of the public press.

They were going to tell the family during their weekly family dinner with both sides of the family. The Holland family was hosting this week’s dinner. They had also invited Harrison over for dinner.

The two of them found themselves heading towards the front door of his childhood home. They had stopped to stand in front of the door. They had rung the doorbell on the side of the door, waiting patiently by themselves. They could hear the faint footsteps coming closer. They had watched the door swing wide open to revel both of their parents on the other side.

“There they are,” Nikki exclaimed. She was quick to pull both of them into the house. She had closed the door behind them. She had basically flung her arms around her son’s taller frame, pulling him down to her height. She kissed his check affectionately.

“My dear,” Sarah (her mom) smiled. She wrapped her arms around her dear daughter, squeezing her tightly. She almost didn’t want to let her go, but she did eventually. She was already rambling on about how her daughter never came to visit her anymore.

Her dad had come to stand beside her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, bringing her smaller figure into his side in a loving manner. He pressed a small kiss on the top of her head. He pulled away from her. He had turned his head to look towards his son-in-law, taking one single step forward to address him.

“How are you, son?” He wondered. He didn’t seem to smile at him. He was standing directly in front of him. He was probably trying to seem intimidating to him. He gave him a firm hand shake.

“I’m good, sir,” Tom answered politely. He had released his father-in-law’s hand, lowering it back down to his side. He nodded his head in acknowledgment. “It’s very nice to see you again, Mr and Mrs Y/L/N,” Tom stated with a small smile on his face.

In the background, the three brothers were trying to hush the dog who just kept barking. The boys would head towards the group to greet their own brother and only sister-in-law. They headed into the living room to keep talking with each other.

During dinner, the whole family was sitting around the table. The two fathers were sitting on either end of the table. On the the far side of the table, Nikki and Sarah were sitting beside each other along with Harry and Harrison. On the opposite side of the table, the young couple was sitting with Sam and Paddy.

The soft sound of silverware clinking and clanging against the plates could be heard very distinctly. The small talk was very brief. The boys were mostly talking about Harry’s new film that they were shooting in the backyard. The young couple had been silently for most of the meal because they didn’t know how to bring up the baby.

Slowly, Tom had turned his head to look at his wife sitting beside him. He could tell that she wasn't really engaged in the conversation, because her mind was somewhere else. His hand found its way to her thigh. He squeezed her thigh in a reassuring manner, subconsciously bringing her back from her thoughts.

“You have been very quiet this evening,” John (her dad) spoke up. He had turned his head to glance between the two of them, catching the unspoken communication happening during dinner. He raised his eyebrows at them. “What’s on your mind?” He wondered.

“We have something that we would like to share with you,” Y/N said. She grabbed onto her husband’s hand under the table, glancing at him through the corner of her eye. She released a shaky breath. “We...we are going to have a baby,” Y/N confessed.

There was a moment of silence that had honestly felt like an absolute eternity. The whole family was simply trying unpack the load that had just been handed to them. The young couple were studying each of the family members, searching for some kind of reaction from them.

“Y-You’re pregnant?” Her mother was the very first person to speak. She spoke in a tone of disbelief. Her eldest daughter had only nodded her head in response. She smiled at her.

“I knew it,” Sam said with a triumphant smile on his face. He had turned his head to look across the small stretch of the table, pointing a finger towards his twin brother. “You owe me money,” Sam stated.

“Oh my god!" Her mother screamed. Her mother had screamed so loudly that it had practically startled every other person sitting at the table. She stood up from the table. She did not hesitate to run towards her, throwing her arms around her in a tight hug. She was still sitting in her chair so her head was resting against her mother’s own stomach. Her body visibly relaxed at her reaction, melting into her mother’s embrace.

“You’re pregnant with our first grandbaby,” Nikki exclaimed. She had lifted her hand to cover her mouth in slight disbelief. Her smile was starting to grow at the corners of her lips. She had a few tears in her eyes too.

Meanwhile, her father had also stood to his feet. He had turned his head to look directly at his son-in-law, taking a few steps towards him. In response, Tom had stood up very quickly out of respect. He wondered if his father-in-law was going to punch him for impregnating his daughter. He was instead pulled into a hug.

For a brief moment, Tom was so shocked that he kept his arms at his sides. He had always known that his father-in-law was never a really emotional or sentimental man. When his father-in-law had pulled away from him, he could see the fresh tears in his eyes.

“You are a good man, Tom. You must be sure to take good care of them now,” her father explained. He had forced himself to clear his throat. He had tried to lower his voice to hide the fact that he was crying tears of joy.

“Yes sir. I will,” Tom said. He had turned his head head to look down at his wife beside him, feeling a strong sense of protectiveness overtake him. He placed a hand on her shoulder. And he smiled down at her.

For the rest of the night, the whole family was only talking about the new baby. The two mothers were now fawning and fretting over the expecting mother in their midst. The two fathers wanted to share some advice with the young couple. The four boys were bickering about who was going to be the best uncle out of all of them. The boys had also started to place bets down on the gender of the baby. And the young couple were able to tell that the whole family was just as excited for the baby as they were.

At thirteen weeks, the baby bump was finally starting to show little by little. She found it very difficult to get into her jeans. She jumped up and down in hopes of getting her pants higher onto her waist. She just wasn’t able to secure the bottom. She would eventually just get frustrated enough that she would switch out her jeans for leggings.

She was (at first) very self-conscious about her baby bump. She would even wonder if the baby bump wasn’t a baby at all. She had been having these insanely weird food cravings recently. She combined some of the weirdest foods together like pickles and ice cream or bacon and peanut butter.

One night, Tom had turned to wrap his arm around his wife’s waist in their shared bed. He was greatly disappointed to find that his wife was not even in their bed. He quickly climbed out of bed to go find her.

She was currently sitting on the large plush couch in the living room. She had a heavy blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She had a small tub of ice cream resting on the top of her baby bump. She dug her spoon into the tub of ice cream. Then she stuffed the silver spoon into her mouth, sobbing uncontrollably to herself.

She said that she didn’t feel beautiful with the baby bump because she was convinced that it wasn’t a baby bump at all. She believed that her baby bump was actually just her gaining weight from the weird food combos. Her husband had to convince her that she was absolutely beautiful to him. He also said that it was just the baby growing inside her.

Thankfully, her doctor was also able to reassure her that it was a baby bump. She was right at the end of her first trimester, so it was completely normal and natural that her baby bump would start showing now. She felt so relieved to hear that.

For a while, she felt bad that her dear husband had to put up with her weird food cravings and her unpredictable mood swings. She had known that it was apart of the process, but that didn’t stop her from feeling bad about it. She would always apologize to him afterwards. And she was rewarded with a soft and sweet kiss from him.

Every night, Tom liked to lay down on the top of her legs with his head right in front of the baby bump. He would always start by lifting her shirt up to expose her growing stomach. He rubbed his hands on the sides of her stomach in a soothing and reassuring manner. He would pepper kisses on her bare skin, which tickled her sometimes. He also liked to talk to the baby even if the baby couldn’t hear him yet.

During the seventeenth week of pregnancy, Y/N was able to feel the baby move for the first time. It had practically taken her breath away at first. She pressed her hand down to the side of her stomach, practically searching for the place the baby had moved.

With each day, the baby was starting to become more active in her stomach. The baby’s turns and kicks were getting more frequent and more obvious. She was slowly getting used to the fluttery feeling happening inside of her.

During one of Tom’s night sessions with the baby bump, the baby had actually responded to him with a sharp and strong kick in her side. It had caused her to grunt and press her hand to the side of her stomach. She had closed her eyes and breathed out slowly.

“Are you okay? Is something wrong?” Tom asked. He was looking at her with a strong sense of worry and concern in the depths of his eyes. He was quick to grab onto her hand to comfort her. He kissed the back of her hand.

Without hesitation, Y/N had shifted his hand down the side of her stomach. She had pressed his warm palm against the specific spot where she felt the baby kick. She had hoped the baby would kick again.

“Come on, baby. Your daddy wants to feel you kicking,” she said in the sweetest and softest tone of voice. Her heart had almost jumped out of her chest upon feeling another prominent kick coming from the exact same spot on her stomach. She laughed at the feeling.

“Oh my. You can really feel him kicking in there,” Tom said with a big smile on his face. He didn’t even catch the specific pronoun that had come out of his mouth. He had probably just said it subconsciously. He pressed a sweet kiss to the spot. He grew to love his baby more with each passing day.

The baby shower was going to be held at the young couple’s house. The whole family was taking care of the various things that needed to get done before the guests arrived. The three brothers were suppose to be inflating pink and blue balloons, but it just turned into them ‘accidentally’ letting them loose on each other. The mothers were working diligently in the kitchen, preparing various snacks for the guests. It felt like things were really starting to come together.

However, when the soon-to-be mother had finally come down the stairs, she had wanted to help with some of the last minute details. She had tried to bend down to grab one of the streamers, but the whole family had just yelled at her. They said that she needed to sit down and relax because everything was already going to be taken care of and she didn’t need to worry about anything. She just sighed to herself, sitting down on the couch next to the dog.

Once the guests had begun to arrive at the house, the baby shower was able to start. The couple had decided that they weren’t going to find out the baby’s gender until he/she was born. There was a small bowl in the center of the coffee table where the guests could write down their guess on the baby’s gender and place it in the bowl. The three brothers were able to collect the papers, counting out how many people had voted for a girl and how many people had voted for a boy.

It was no surprise that her own mother and mother-in-law had said that they wanted their grandbaby to be a girl. Now Nikki only had four boys of her own. She wanted a granddaughter that she could spoil rotten with gifts and gowns. However, the Holland boys were absolutely convinced that the baby was going to be a boy for “obvious reasons.” The young couple really didn’t care about the gender right now. They just hoped that the baby would be healthy when it came into the world.

The guests’ gifts had consisted of an endless supply of diapers and bottles. They also received various baby creams, lotions, and powders. There was only one present left to open.

“Who is this one from?” Y/N wondered. She had been given the last present by her personal helper (Paddy). She didn’t even notice the small blush on his cheeks. She had grabbed onto the small tag on the side, reading the name of her little brother-in-law. “Is this from you, Paddy?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Paddy nodded shyly. He was fiddling with his fingers in a nervous manner, feeling slightly uncomfortable with all the adults looking directly at him. He pointed to the small bag. “It used to be mine but I am getting too old now. I wanted to give it to your baby,” Paddy claimed

“Oh Paddy,” Y/N said with a small swoon. She found a small brown teddy bear in the bag. The brown bear’s fur did look slightly worn and old. The teddy bear smelled like lavender, which meant that it had been thrown into the wash just recently. Now the teddy bear had soft brown fur, a button nose, and silky paws. It was just perfect.

“The baby will love it,” Tom said with a bright smile. He had turned his head to look over at his youngest brother, tilting his head to nod at him. He wanted to give his brother at hug at the sweet gesture, but he knew that it would only embarrass him further.

It was starting to become much later in the day. The guests had started to take their leave until there were no guests in the house at all. The whole family pitched in the clean up the mess that was left. The boys were currently picking up the wrapping paper from the presents in the living room. The girls were working to clean and wash the dishes in the kitchen.

The Holland boys been ordered by their dearest mother to carry the various gifts out to the car. This would quickly turn into a competition to see who could carry the most gifts. Of course, Paddy was trying to balance an entire tower of presents in his hands and Sam tried to stack some on his head. It only resulted in some of the presents being dropped onto the ground. They were thankful that their mother didn’t see that.

At the end of the day, Tom and Y/N would drive back to their own house which was only a few blocks away from them. She wanted to help him carry the gifts into the house, but he insisted that he could carry them by himself. She would direct him to bring the various presents into the only spare bedroom in their small house, which they intended to convert into a nursery. They would have to start working on that sooner or later.

The whole week had been dedicated to cleaning out the second bedroom in their small house. They were going to start to convert it into a nursery this next week. The young couple had decided to paint the walls with a mild grey tone, because it was a pretty neutral color. It was also very clean and bland.

Now Tom and Haz had taken a few days to paint the whole nursery. At first, they didn’t buy enough paint for the whole room. They had to go back to the store to buy more. The only problem was that they bought the wrong shade of grey in the nursery. They had only realized this until they had painted half the wall. The two boys would have to go back to the store again.

At the moment, Y/N was twenty-three weeks into her pregnancy. She had found herself spending most of her time off her feet because they were starting to swell. Her neck was constantly stiff and her back was killing her. She wasn’t able to really relax with the whole baby thing.

Today, Y/N and Tom were planning on going out to the shops to pick out various pieces of furniture for the nursery. He had wanted his brothers (including Haz) to tag along with them so that they could help him lift the heavier furniture. She had already ordered some decorations to put in the nursery, but now they needed some other essential items.

"Why don't Sam and Harry look for some gender neutral onesies, sleep suits, and rompers? I’ll have Tom and Haz start looking for a carseat and a good stroller. And Paddy and I will look for a crib/craddle and a changing table,” Y/N said with a small smile on her face.

At once, Sam and Harry had hurried to find a cart for themselves. They were immediately headed towards the clothing aisle near the back of the store. In the meantime, Y/N had found herself reaching down to grab onto Paddy’s hand. She started leading him in the right direction, shifting towards the large furniture section of the store. Finally, Tom and Haz had started off on their own journey to find the things.

Currently, Sam and Harry were standing in front of the clothing racks that were specifically for baby boys. They really didn’t know where to start, so they just started grabbing each of the outfits on the racks. The two twins would simply toss each piece of clothing into the cart.

“What size will he come out as?” Sam wondered. He was quick to find the small tag on the back collar of the clothes that indicated the size of the infant. He had turned his head to look at his brother standing beside him, tilting his head for some kind of explanation.

“He’ll be a big boy. That’s for sure,” Harry smiled. The two twins had basically cleaned out the small store, buying every single baby boy outfit in biggest size possible. They had a strong feeling that the baby was going to be a boy. They really didn’t have any regrets.

Meanwhile, Tom and Haz were reading the directions on the back of the box for a special stroller. The two of them were able to find different brands of strollers, carriers, and carseats. They had already added a certain carrier and carseat to their cart.

“It’s like building a rocket,” Tom exclaimed. He had just briefly read some of the directions on the back of the box, finding that he didn’t know most of the names of the parts. He didn’t think it would be an easy task. “I wouldn’t even know where to start,” Tom confessed

“I can help you assemble it,” Haz said. He had shrugged his his shoulders at the notion, stating that it couldn’t be that hard to put it together. He sent him a small smile.

With a simple nod the the head, Tom and Haz had managed to hoist the heavy box into the cart. They were already able to get everything on their list. The two of them started to head down the long length of the aisle, shifting to round the sharp corner. The next aisle was full of books!

Hesitantly, Tom had found himself turning into the book aisle. He was taking a quick glance at the titles of the books. He had grabbed one book that was called “What To Expect When You Are Expecting.” He silently wondered if he should take some of these books home with him. He placed the book in the cart.

In the other aisle, Y/N and Paddy were carefully studying the different displays of baby furniture. The two of them would take their time and stop to look at one. They were able to point out their favorite features of the furniture piece, but they were also able to find some flaws (wrong color or weird design).

There was a large white crib with thick bars and a shelf that had drawers built into the side. There was also a white changing table which was an added addition to the set. The furniture was quite expensive.

“Do you like that one?” Tom asked.

In response, Y/N had practically jumped at his words. She had shifted to face him, scolding him for scaring her so badly. She was able to look back towards the matching furniture, mentally imagining what the two pieces would look like in the nursery at home.

“I love it,” Y/N confessed. She ran her hand across the smooth wood. She didn’t want to look at the price tag again, but she had to face reality. She sighed to herself, shaking her head at the thought of spending so much money. “But the price is too—”

“Don't worry about the price,” Tom cut her off. He had taken one single step forward in his place, shifting his hand to the side of her waist. He pressed one soft kiss against her temple. He smiled at her. “I’ll buy it for you. I’ll buy you anything you want,” Tom said.

Within a few moments, Tom and Haz were trying to maneuver one of the boxes into the cart. The two of them were shouting directions at each other, telling one to go right or the other to go left. They were finally able to get one of the boxes into the cart, but they still had one more box to lift and carry into the cart.

In that moment, Sam and Harry had been able to rejoin the group. The two of them were told to grab one of the corners so that they could turn the box onto the side. This was defiantly the heavier piece of furniture out of the two. In the end, the four of them were just able to get the fine furniture into the shopping cart.

In the background, Y/N had found herself wandering down the long length of the aisle. She had stopped to stand in front of a white rocking chair with a teddy bear on the seat. She could see that the chair also came with an ottoman. She had looked over the small stretch of her shoulder, silently pleading for permission from her dear husband. She didn’t need much to persuade him.

It was trial and effort. The four boys had been trying to carry the two big boxes up the stairs and into the nursery. The four of them kept having to readjust their grip or change the general direction. The boys had been shouting commands at each other for the past hour. They were able to get the big boxes into the nursery at last.

The Holland boys had just finished unboxing the heavy furniture. They had thrown the bubble wrap and packing peanuts in the trash. The boys were now left to assemble the whole thing.

At one point, Sam and Harry had been trying to translate the directions for the crib which they were convinced had been written in another language. That language had turned out to be French, so they flipped the piece of paper over to read it in English.

Meanwhile, Tom and Haz had been looking at the various labels on each piece. They had tried to organize the parts in an orderly manner, but they quickly found that random parts and pieces would be put together. They just couldn’t make any sense of it.

“We need to attack Point B to Point E on part six and then turn counter clockwise until Point A is parallel to Point U on part ten,” Harry read aloud. He had lifted his head to peer over the edge of the paper, looking at the various parts in front of him.

“Cause that makes perfect sense,” Tom sighed. His voice was laced with complete frustration and confusion. He ran his hand through his hair. He frowned down at the pile of parts in front of him.

“Maybe you should take a break,” Y/N suggested. She was currently standing in the doorframe of the nursery, staring into the small nursery from the hallway. She had subconsciously placed her hand on her stomach.

“No. I can do this. I’m the father,” Tom explained. He had waved his hand in dismissal. He had turned his head to look towards the piece of paper, taking two of the parts listed in his hands. He was able to connect them together.

Slowly, the white crib and changing table were starting to take on a familiar form. The directions had actually made some sense. The tools and power tools were being used to secure every single nail/screw into place. The furniture had been assembled by a team of ‘professionals.’

Nearly three hours later, Y/N had walked into the small nursery with a tray of glass of lemonade. She had basically gasped at the beautiful sight in front of her. Her baby’s nursery was perfectly put together.

The white crib was pressed against the farthest and darkest wall of the small nursery. The white changing table was laying underneath the window. The matching rocking chair was lingering in the corner of the room with the ottoman at its feet. The closet was full of baby (boy) clothes. There were a few miscellaneous stuffed animals scattered across the floor. It looked absolutely perfect to the expecting mother.

Instantly, Y/N had placed the tray of drinks onto the top of the table. She walked straight towards her dear husband who was still kneeling on the ground, securing the last screw into place. She had placed her hand on her stomach in an affectionate manner.

“It’s perfect, Tom. He will love it,” Y/N said with the biggest and brightest smile on her face. She had lifted her hand to touch the white wooden railing of the baby crib, running her hand across the smooth wood. She just couldn’t wait to see her baby in that very crib in a few short weeks.

“How do you know it’s a boy?” Tom wondered. He had turned his head to look at his wife standing over him, quirking his eyebrow at her choice of pronoun. He was most amused by her words. He smirked at her.

“I just do,” she boasted. She had shrugged her shoulders at her sides. She had forced herself to keep a frown on her face, but it was hard for her to keep her poker face. She could feel the small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“What if I want a girl?” Tom challenged. He was now playing along with her little game. He had subconsciously shifted his hands to the sides of her stomach, rubbing her large stomach in a soothing manner. He hummed under his breath.

“No. You’re not getting one,” she claimed. She couldn’t keep her smile hidden anymore. She had placed her hands on the stretch of his shoulders. She was quick to lean down to his level, pressing one soft kiss on his life.

“Is that so?” Tom smiled. He had shifted his hands through her long locks of hair, shuffling his hand to the back of her neck to keep her close to him. He could feel her move to perch on his knee. He slanted his head to the side to deepen the kiss.

“Yuck!” Paddy called. “They’re kissing.”

For the past few weeks leading up the the baby’s birth, Tom had spent most of his time worrying about his heavily pregnant wife. He was constantly standing right beside her because he refused to even leave her side. He just wanted to be close by when she needed him.

He would bring her anything that she asked for, whether that be pillows or pickles. He would massage her sore and swollen feet at the end of the day. He would press kisses against her baby bump to show his love and affection.

He had found himself checking the duffle bag that they would bring to the hospital with them (when it was time for the baby to come). He just wanted to make sure that they had everything they needed. He even made a list of things to bring to the hospital.

During one night session with the baby, Tom had started by lifting her shirt up to expose her heavily pregnant stomach. He rubbed his hands on the sides of her stomach in a soothing and reassuring manner. He pressed one soft kiss on the underside of her stomach.

“I really wish you had come for my birthday,” Tom confessed. He had turned his head to press his ear against the top of her stomach, shutting his eyes to savor the sweet moment. He was listening to the baby’s solid heartbeat. “You would have been the best gift to receive,” Tom explained.

“He will come out soon,” Y/N promised. She didn’t want to admit that she had been having some contractions for the past few days, because she knew that it would only worry her husband. She knew that he would drive her straight to the hospital if she even mentioned it. She was just trying to hold off for a little longer.

However, Y/N was unable to hold it off any longer by the next night. She had been tossing and turning during the entire night because she wasn’t able to get in a comfortable position. She could tell that her contractions were becoming a lot stronger and a lot closer together.

In the early hours of the night, she had hoisted herself into a sitting position in their shared bed. She could feel a strong contraction hitting her like a ton of bricks, causing her to scrunch her eyes and hold her breath in pain. She had dropped her hand onto the side of her stomach, grunting to herself at the painful sensation coursing through her body. She was quick to wake her sleeping husband.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Tom wondered. He sat up in bed. He had turned his body to face her’s in a split second, tilting his head to the side in curiosity. He could see the visible pain etched onto her face. He took her hand in his own to reassure her.

“I am having contractions,” Y/N grunted to herself. She felt like she was clawing at her own stomach, feeling the pain ripping through her entire body. She could feel this small amount of relief washing over her, feeling the effects of the sharp and strong contraction start to die down. “I-I think that the baby might be coming,” Y/N said with a small whine.

For a brief second, Tom had been in a full panic mode. He had practically jumped out of their shared bed. He was quick to put some real clothes on. He had started to grab various things around the small stretch of the room, stuffing the car keys into his pocket and grabbing his wife’s loose shoes to wear to the hospital. He had hurried back to her side.

During the next contraction, Tom was sure to set a small timer on his phone. He was careful to watch the timer on his phone, pressing the stop button once she said that the contraction was over. His phone had read fifteen minutes apart.

Nonetheless, Tom wanted to take his wife directly to the hospital despite her protests of being too early. He helped her out of bed. He had grabbed onto of her favorite sweaters, throwing it over her shoulders. He had started to lead her down the stairs, heading straight towards the front door of the house. He did not forget to grab the duffle bag on the way.

Slowly, she had climbed into the passenger seat of the car. Her dear husband was careful to stretch the buckle across the big baby bump. She had placed her hand on the side of her stomach. She could see the carseat in the back of the car, which only brought a smile to her face. She was going to have a baby.

On the way to the hospital, Tom had quickly called their parents to let them know that they were headed to the hospital. He had turned his head to look at his dear wife sitting beside him, trying to see if she was uncomfortable in any way, shape, or form. He was quick to grab her hand in his own. He carried her hand towards his face, pressing a soft kiss to her hand.

At the hospital, the young couple were able to be checked into an empty room. Even though her contractions were pretty far apart, she was already an entire week late. The doctors wanted to put her in a room (as soon as possible) so that they could check to see how the baby was doing at the moment. They had also figured that—as soon as she went into labor—the baby would come out in no time. They had to get her in the room.

In the private room, Y/N had taken the time to change into the hospital gown. She had been hooked up to various wires and tubes that would monitor her/her baby’s heart rate and her contractions. She was also given some medication to ease the pain for the moment.

Now the doctor had come to check the monitors and to check her cervix dilation. She hadn’t even started dilating just yet. It was way too early to do anything at this point. She would just have to ride out her contractions and wait for her cervix to start to dilate.

During the first hours, Y/N was laying down in the hospital bed. She was hoping to get some sleep before she would have to deliver the baby, especially since she didn’t get much sleep. She had plenty of pillows and blankets to keep her comfortable. She had fallen asleep within a few minutes. She was able to sleep for an hour.

In the background, Tom had been making a few personal phone calls to friends and family. He had turned his head to find her sleeping figure on the hospital bed. He stood to his feet, shuffling towards her. He had lowered himself onto the side of the bed, lifting his hand to brush some hair out of her face. He leaned down to kiss her head lovingly.

Within a few moments, Y/N had woken from her hour long sleep. She had hoisted her body into a sitting position, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She gripped onto the white sheets underneath her, feeling this strong contraction coursing through her. She closed her eyes tight.

Once the pain had gone away, Y/N had very slowly stood to her feet. She had started to walk around the small stretch of the room, remembering some book or article that had said walking induces labor. She had one hand on the side of her stomach and one hand on the curve of her back. She sighed to herself.

Without warning, she could feel the fresh tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. She had placed the back of her hand against her mouth to hide the fact that she was getting emotional. Her salty tears were wetting her cheeks by streaming down her face. She sniffled her nose.

Out of instinct, Tom had been quick to rush to her side. He wrapped his arms around her smaller frame, drawing her into his grasp. He tried to tilt his head down to look at her face, but she simply buried her face in his chest to hide from him. He asked her what was wrong.

“I just want it to be over,” she cried. She turned her head to nuzzle into his neck, trying to be closer to him. She could feel the muscles of her chin tremble like a small child. She sobbed into his chest unceasingly, hands clutching at his sweatshirt.

“It will be over soon,” Tom promised. He was holding her in complete silence, slowly rocking her as her tears soaked his chest. He weaved his fingers through her long locks of hair, hushing her with his soft voice. He kissed the top of her head.

When the doctor had come back to the room (nearly three hours later), she was very pleased to find that she had made some progression. She had dilated nearly four centimeters. She said that she would come back to check up on her in a few hours. She left the room once again.

Now Tom was leaning back against the hospital bed with his heavily pregnant wife laying in his arms. He could feel her back pressing against his chest, practically leaning into his soft touch. He had shifted his hands towards the sides of her stomach, rubbing her stomach in a soothing manner.

“You can do this, darling. Just breath,” Tom whispered upon feeling her body tense in his grasp. Her contractions were starting to get longer, stronger, and closer together. She was accumulating a thin layer of sweat on her forehead from the pain that she was going through. She released a strangled moan.

At one point, Tom had slipped out of the bed. He was currently sitting on the chair beside her bed. He had gone to get some ice chips for her. He was now feeding them to her upon request. He smiled at her silly behavior.

A few hours later, the doctor had come back into the room. She was sure to check the vitals on the monitor for her and her baby, coming to the conclusion that everything was completely normal. She had also found that she had dilated to seven centimeters, which meant that she would be able to start pushing soon. She had left the room to prepare for the birth.

The three nurses entered the private room in blue scrubs. The nurses had brought some various pieces of equipment that would help with the birth. The nurses had started to organize some things for when the time came for the baby to be born.

They had placed these two leg-holders on either side of the bed. The nurse had begun to explain the whole process. She said that they were going to count to ten during the contraction. This was the prime time for her to push. Once they got to ten seconds, she would be able to stop pushing for a short break between contractions. The baby would come out much quicker this way.

She had dilated ten centimeters! She had been in labor for nearly twelve hours before it was finally time to push the baby out. Her legs were placed in the two holders on the side of her bed, putting her in the perfection position. Her husband had been given a cover to wear over his clothes so he wouldn’t contaminate anything. He was now standing right beside her, holding her hand the entire time.

“Alright. You are going to start pushing now,” the doctor had encouraged her. She lifted her head to look at her patient, nodding her head in approval. She started to count to ten for her.

In that moment, Y/N had forced herself to push as hard as she could with the little energy she had left. She could feel the intense pain streaming through every single cell in her body. She came to the end of ten seconds. She dropped back down into the bed, dreading this whole process.

It had been nearly two hours since she had started pushing during her contractions. With each contraction came a pain that dominated her entire being. In those moments, for those seconds that stretched into infinity, there was nothing else. She didn’t care if other patients could hear her screaming from other rooms.

When the pain passed, it was only for a minute or so. She was trying to catch her breath with closed eyes. She was unwilling to re-engage with life outside of her own body. She couldn’t even focus on her husband standing beside her, encouraging her with forehead kisses and sweet words.

The doctor was telling her that is was time to push again. With a guttural grun,t she did so and was told to stop. It was just enough. She had felt the baby crowning, but she held her breath. Without any further effort, the newborn baby had slipped into the doctor’s hands. The doctor was quick to wrap the baby in a soft blanket.

The newborn baby had taken a deep breath only to release this loud cry of protest. The baby had been covered in this mixture of a white waxy substance and some small specs of blood. The newborn was quickly cleaned with the soft blanket by the doctor.

“It’s a boy,” the doctor exclaimed.

The new mother could feel her eyes turn glossy with tears. Through her exhaustion, she can manage a small smile. She did not hesitate to look at the baby that was being brought to lay on her bare skin of her chest. She begins to cry the sweetest tears she has ever known, She felt the painful moments leading up to this slowly melting away.

At the sight of the baby, Tom had burst into tears of joy and happiness. He didn’t even seem to care that his hand had been practically crushed in hers during the last two hours. He only cared about his beautiful wife and his newborn son at the given moment.

In that moment, Tom was able to cut the umbilical cord with a pair of scissors. He had turned his head to look back towards his loving wife and son. He could feel his heart swelling one hundred times in his chest, growing more at the mere sight of his loved ones. Leaning down, Tom was able to get a better look at the baby. He was quick to cradle the back of the baby boy’s head, pressing a soft kiss to his head. He couldn’t stop smiling.

The baby was so light. His head was burrowing into his mother’s chest, feeling the warmth of her body so comforting. His tiny toes were peeking out from the blanket. His head was a mass of brown waves that would match his father’s looks. The baby had opened his mouth to cry, but he could only manage a quiet snuffling sound. His throat must have been dry and sore.

“He’s so beautiful,” Y/N smiled. She had shifted to newborn baby closer against her chest, bringing him in closer to her face. She had brushed the back of her face against the baby’s chubby cheek. She kissed his soft head.

“He’s absolutely perfect,” Tom agreed. He had turned his head to look at his dear wife laying beside him. He pushed her sticky and sweaty hair away from her forehead, kissing her in such a loving manner. “I love you so much. I am so proud of you,” Tom confessed with a bright smile on his face.

With great hesitation, the new mother had handed her baby boy to the nurses so that they could clean him and check on him. The nurses had only brought the newborn baby to the small table on the other side of the room because they had all of the necessary equipment with them.

During the whole checkup, Tom was carefully watching the three nurses from the sidelines. He was still standing next to his wife’s beside, but he was watching them from the short distance. He could see that they were just weighing and measuring him at the moment.

“Go see him,” she encouraged him. She could tell that he wanted to be there. He wanted to stand beside the three nurses, watching his baby boy in a protective manner. He wanted to spend every single second with that newborn. He just wanted to hold his baby boy and he never wanted to let go.

Hesitantly, Tom had shuffled across the small stretch of the room. He stood beside the nurses. He had lowered his gaze to stare down at the little naked baby on the surface of the table. The soft pink baby was crying so loud and hard. His bottom lip was trembling in its place. His hands were balled into tight fists. And his eyes were still squeezes shut.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m here,” Tom said.

Upon hearing these words, the baby boy had stopped crying in a split second. He had popped his eyes open. He had turned his head to look directly towards the sound of his own father’s voice, recognizing the tone. His cheeks were stained with these fresh salty tears. His warm brown eyes were just gazing up into his fathers’.

The nurses were quick to swaddle the silent baby, wrapping him in this light blue blanket. They placed this blue hat on his little head to cover his dark locks of hair. The one nurse was very careful to lift the newborn baby into her arms. The nurse had turned her body towards the new father standing beside her, handing the baby boy to him.

“Do you want to hold him?” the nurses wondered. In response, Tom was gently handed his own son. He was holding him very cautiously and carefully, fearing that he might break him because he was just so little. He never tore his eyes away from the baby boy in his arms. He walked back to the beside.

The newborn baby had come into the world after fourteen hard hours of labor. He was five pounds and four ounces. He was also one full week late. He was born at 8:14am on June 3rd.

The new parents were both currently laying on the hospital bed in the private room. The two of them were staring down at the baby in complete admiration. They had turned their heads to look at each other, leaning forward to share a kiss. They could feel their love for each other growing stronger with each passing minute. They never wanted this happy moment to end.

“Welcome to the world, Thomas Stanley Holland Jr.”

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland angst #baby holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland oneshot #tom holland imagine #tom holland series

565 notes · View notes

johaerys-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Where Blood Roses Bloom

Fandom: Castlevania

Pairings: Alucard/Trevor Belmont/Sypha, Hector/Lenore

Summary:

After Trevor gets grievously injured by a night creature, he and Sypha return to Dracula's castle to seek Alucard's help. The man they find there, however, is but a shadow of the friend they left behind.

Meanwhile, in far Styria, Hector does his best to survive in the vampires' court, a lamb amidst wolves. Little do the wolves know, the lamb has fangs of its own.

Chapter 8: Safe is up! The trio return to the castle after their brief encounter with the night-creatures in the woods, and have some much needed quiet time. Plenty of introspection, angst, hurt/comfort, Alucard POV :)

Read on AO3! Or read from the beginning

“I prepared a bath,” Sypha says with a small, awkward smile as soon as Adrian steps into his room. “I figured you would need it.”

He stands at the threshold of his study, blinking into the interior. In the time it took for him and Belmont to return to the castle, Sypha lit up the fire in the hearth, dragged one of the copper tubs in his room and filled it with warm water; she even put some order to his chaos, placed his books back in their proper place, tidied his desk, folded his blankets. It... almost feels like home again.

It is still odd, though, to see her in his space; it has been so long since anyone has stepped foot in any place he called his very own. It should have felt like an invasion, but it doesn’t. He is surprised by how much he welcomes her presence there, considering how things were left between them before he stormed out of the castle.

“You and Trevor took your time getting here. I should probably reheat this,” she says, and her gaze glides discreetly straight past him and to the tub of water, which waits for him by the fire. "Unless you have a preference for lukewarm to cold baths?”

Adrian lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. Belmont's horse had been so spooked by the night-creatures, that it took almost an hour for them to find it, trudging through the snow. With Belmont stopping every so often to catch his breath, Adrian was surprised they even managed to get back at all. At length, they found the poor animal hiding behind a small thicket, close to a lake nearby. Even when they climbed into the saddle, the horse was jittery and restless, and Adrian would have turned into a wolf and ran to the castle on his own four legs if he hadn't thought it would have unsettled the beast even more.

Besides, riding two-saddle with Belmont wasn’t quite as uncomfortable as he would have once thought. The warmth of his chest, pressed up against his back, was more than welcome against the bitter cold he had had to endure that past day, and his arms resting at either side of him as he held the reins felt… good. Comforting. Infuriatingly so.

Not that Adrian would ever admit that to him outright, but still.

Sypha flicks her fingers, and instantly there is steam rising from the water, giving off the sweet scent of herbal soap. It smells faintly like her, Adrian realises, and something warm spreads within him at the thought that she used her own soap to prepare his bath. Sypha gives him a last smile as she turns to leave. “I’ll come back to bring you some tea. Or would you perhaps like some time alone…?”

“Tea sounds wonderful,” Adrian replies, and is surprised by how readily the words fly out of his mouth. “Thank you, Sypha.”

Her smile widens, and there is a flicker of understanding, but also of expectation in her eyes. Her gaze has none of the hurt or confusion it did last time she had seen him, none of the shock and fear. That alone is more comforting that Adrian can express.

“Alright then,” she says quietly, her cheeks taking on a rosy hue. “I’ll be back soon. I'd better go check on our perpetual patient first.” The door closes softly behind her, and Adrian is on his own.

With mechanical movements, he pulls off his boots, removes his clothes. A small blanket of snow, muddle and pine needles is gathered around his feet as he undresses. He doesn’t even bother folding them, leaving them on the floor next to the tub instead; they’re all covered in so much blood and dirt that he hardly make out the colour of the fabric anyway.

The warm, soapy water is slightly on the scalding hot side, but Adrian doesn’t hesitate a moment before lowering himself in it. It embraces his body swiftly and the many cuts and scrapes on his arms and legs sting. Adrian leans back against the sturdy copper of the tub and lets the water seep into his sore and tired muscles and take away the ache, the cold, the numbness. He rests his head on the rim of the tub and closes his eyes with a sigh.

The past couple of days drift behind his tightly closed eyelids, before he can stop them. His duel with Belmont, their ill-timed kiss, the dinner he and Sypha prepared for him, their argument. Himself running away, the castle and the forest disappearing behind him in a blur. He doesn't remember that many details after this, nothing concrete; only himself running for miles and miles until his limbs were numb and his lungs were on fire. Even when he could run no more, though, when he was so far away from the castle that he couldn’t even see its tall and sharp peaks, he remembers the ache in his heart being exactly the same, as if he’d never taken a step away.

They’re always within him, those memories, that hollowness, that pain. No matter how fast he runs, how far, they're always there. The voices in his head that tell him that he’s meant to be alone, that he's always been different, that he doesn't belong. All of his life, even since he has any sort of recollection of himself, he remembers feeling adrift, with neither foot planted firmly on the ground beneath him. Half human and half vampire; a part of both worlds, and accepted by neither. His father, after he had lost his mind, had tried to kill him because he thought him too human, soft and weak, with a human heart and human sensibilities; Sumi and Taka had tried to kill him because he wasn’t human enough, because to them he was a ruthless, heartless monster, same as the ones they’d come to know.

As if there really is any difference between vampires and humans in how monstrous they can be.

Adrian has seen enough of the world to know that anyone’s a monster to someone. He is a monster in the world of humans, and a monster in the world of vampires; an oddity and a stranger in both. If there is no place for him in this world, then where is he supposed to be? What is he supposed to be?

If you’re a monster, then so am I.

Belmont’s words ring in his ears. Adrian grips the edges of the copper tub tightly, until his knuckles go white. He presses his eyes shut, trying to ignore the shock he had felt at that moment, but also the affection that swells within him and that he can no longer deny. It rises in his chest, shy like an early spring bud on cold and frosty ground, even as he tries to push it down. It reminds him of the earnestness in Belmont’s gaze as he said it, the warmth of his touch and the steadiness of his presence, and it makes him wonder if, maybe, just maybe, there is hope for Adrian yet.

And if that isn’t the cruelest thing that Belmont has ever done to him.

So lost is he in his thoughts, that he doesn’t even hear Sypha as she enters the room. Her footsteps are quiet and her voice soft when she says his name, the teapot and fine china rattling on her tray. The sweet aroma of herbal tea fills the room.

“I brought you tea. Would you like some?”

Adrian has no strength to respond to her. It feels like it has all been drained out of him the moment he stopped running, as if his resolve simply crumbled the minute he stopped resisting.

“Alucard,” she says again, and Adrian doesn’t quite know why that name, from her lips, tears at him. She cautiously steps closer, and set the tray on the low coffee table. She extends her hand gingerly to touch his shoulder, but he recoils with a sharp intake of breath. A look of hurt flashes over her features.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, and that too, sends a stab of pain through him. “Would you like me to leave?”

Adrian takes a deep, slow breath to calm his rapidly beating heart, then shakes his head silently. He doesn’t want to be alone, but he doesn’t want to look at her either. He’s not sure what he’ll see there, this time.

“Would you like to talk?” Sypha asks, and again Adrian shakes his head. She gazes around the room, her eyes falling on a low stool. Carefully, she picks it up and brings it close to the tub. “I’ll sit here and keep you company, then. Is that alright?”

His silence is enough of an answer. She sits there, quietly for a time, gazing out of the window while he stares at the water in his bath. It’s starting to get cold, but a flick of Sypha’s wrist and it’s comfortably warm again. Adrian hugs himself tightly, pulling his knees up to his chest. He doesn’t quite know what to tell her; it’s awkward, sitting with her like this, but at the same time talking feels like an impossible task right now. His throat is raw and his heart is heavy, and there's so many thoughts swivelling in his mind that he wouldn't know where to start, even if he tried.

Still, he doesn’t want her to leave. That, he knows well enough. Her presence is comforting, the scent of her skin and of her herbal soap drifting around him, and she is humming an old song under her breath, like the ones his mother used to sing once. It helps fill the void a little.

“Do you want me to wash the blood off you?” she asks softly, a while after they’ve both been sitting there in silence.

Blood. Right. Adrian’s hands are still covered in it; it’s both Belmont’s and the night creatures’, and perhaps a little bit of his own, too. He has done nothing all the time he’s been in the tub, other than dejectedly sit in the water. He listens as Sypha stands up and looks around the room, then comes back with what must be a washcloth.

“I’m going to touch you now,” she says. “Is that alright?”

Adrian nods guardedly, but he still flinches a little when he feels her hands on him. She pauses and withdraws.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers again, with patience. Adrian swallows thickly, embarrassment rising within him with every moment that passes. Her apologies somehow make him feel even worse. He wonders if she’ll really get up and leave this time, but at the same time he has no energy to speak or to comfort her. He simply waits, eyes fixed on the water, hugging himself tighter still.

Sypha tries again, more slowly and gently this time, and this time Adrian doesn’t flinch quite as much. She carefully brushes the cloth over his hands and forearms, turns his wrists this way and that, carefully cleaning the blood and grime away. The warm cloth feels rough against his skin, and it stings just a little when she wipes the blood of the scratches the night creatures managed on him, but Sypha’s touch is gentle, even tender. She is careful not to linger too long on any of his scars, to brush the cloth over them as lightly as possible, as if afraid they’re still hurting him. And in a way, they are.

It feels like an eternity has passed since anyone has touched him for so prolonged a time. It reminds him of the last time someone touched his bare skin like this, a night that is etched in his memory with blood and fire and sharpened steel, and he trembles. He tries to remind himself that he is safe now, that Sypha has been nothing but patient with him all the while she’s been here and has never physically harmed him, that he can still protect himself if need be, if bad comes to worse.

He trembles all the same.

“Would you like me to stop?” she asks, her voice but the barest whisper murmured between them. “One word, and I’ll stop, Alucard. I’ll leave you be.”

Adrian closes his eyes and breathes slowly. He gives his head a slow, steady shake. He feels so strange like this, naked and vulnerable and exposed. He doesn't appreciate being seen in this state, but he finds Sypha’s touch almost tolerable. More than that, he knows the absence of it will leave him feeling... empty.

So he takes a deep breath and lets her clean his arms, his shoulders, his chest, lets her wash his hair. Her fingers are gentle and delicate when they thread through his locks and massage his scalp, working up a lather. She touches him like he’s fragile, easily breakable, like his skin is made of paper and his bones of glass. A part of Adrian knows that this sort of tenderness is unnecessary; that kindness such as this often pushes the hurt and loathing deeper instead of washing it away. Still, he is grateful. He’s grateful for her patience, grateful for her care, and he leans into it even as a part of him rebels against it, begs to run away again.

Adrian loses track of how long they stay like this, with him soaking in the water and Sypha’s hands on his skin, his scars; her gentle humming in his ears. At length, she starts talking to him in low and mellow tones, without expecting any answer. She speaks of the books she has found in the library, of the many spells she's managed to unearth, but it isn't long before her descriptions of spells and scrolls devolve into tales and legends of ages past and long forgotten. Snow is falling gently beyond the window, fluffy snowflakes tapping the glass, and Sypha is telling him a story of a water nymph in a far away land, up to the North, that fell in love with a hunter, and saved him from certain death when he fell in a frozen lake in the depths of winter. The nymph heard his cries and pulled him out of the water, Sypha says, then dragged him to a cave, and almost scalded herself when she tried to light a fire, so that he wouldn’t freeze. She nursed the hunter to health, and stayed with him until he gained full consciousness, even though it was getting harder for her every day, being away from the safety of her cold waters.

Adrian doesn’t know why this story tugs at him so viscerally. He listens attentively while she speaks, afraid to miss a single word.

“It is true, then,” he says quietly, when she almost reaches the end of her tale, speaking more to himself rather than to her. “The things we cherish the most often do us… the most harm.”

Sypha’s fingers stop their careful ministrations for a moment. Adrian thinks he can hear a soft smile in her voice when she whispers, “Certain things are worth fighting for, even if they hurt sometimes.”

Adrian says nothing to that. He just glances up at her, golden eyes meeting crystal blue. “What happened to the nymph?” he asks, and his heart beats with a strange sort of expectation.

Her smile widens, and she tilts her head to the side so that the light from the fire paints her fair skin amber. “They fell in love and lived happily ever after. The nymph in her lake, and the hunter in the cabin he built close by to be with her.”

Adrian huffs a quiet laugh at the gentle triumph that flashes in her eyes. “Do all your stories have a happy ending?”

“No,” she says, pouring fresh water over his hair to wash the soap away, “but this one does.” Her voice becomes softer when she whispers, “At least I hope it does.”

Read the rest on AO3!

#castlevania #castlevania netflix #alucard #alucard x trevor x sypha #trevor belmont #sypha belnades #trephacard #alucard/trevor belmont/sypha belnades #castlevania fanfiction #where blood roses bloom #johaerys writes

18 notes · View notes