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devondespresso · 24 days

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Let Me Raise The Bar

T | 3,602 words | Steddie | also on ao3! | Modern AU, Meet Cute, Fluff

This fic is for the @strangerthingswritersguild fic exchange, by @starryeyedjanai and @devondespresso. Thank you to @dreamwatch and @bubblesandink for betaing for me!! <3

dividers by @/thecutestgrotto

edit: oh my god i forgot the keep reading the first time im so sorry guys

This night is going terribly.

He keeps telling himself he’ll delete all his dating apps for good, but the prospect of being alone forever always has him re-downloading them.

Right now, he’s remembering why he hates them so much.

He hates Tinder, specifically—guys on Tinder only want to fuck. And if that was what he was looking for, that’d be fine, great even!

But he wants a relationship and guys on Tinder will say they want one too and then turn around and leave right after they get what they want.

At least guys on Grindr are upfront about it being just a hookup—no one’s getting their hopes up or feelings hurt when it turns out to be just that.

Tinder guys will take you on a date and pretend to be interested in you as a person and then won't fucking text back after they leave your apartment the next morning. It’s annoying and it’s frustrating and it’s a waste of Steve's fucking time at this point.

And this guy tonight isn't even trying to pretend. He tried to get Steve to blow him in his apartment building garage before they even left for the date and he really should have taken that for the red flag that it was.

But Steve looks good, and he did his hair routine that takes entirely too fucking long for no one to appreciate it.

His date drives him to this hole in the wall restaurant that Steve must have passed a million times on the bus ride to his job without ever noticing.

He thought he might be able to turn things around when they got there—it’s a small Italian place, a real family-owned type vibe to it. He knows before he even orders that the food is going to be some of the best he’s tasted since moving here.

He tries asking the typical first date questions to get to know him, but his date keeps giving him short answers. So he switches to talking about himself a little, but then he realizes his date’s been staring at his mouth the whole time he’s been talking and Steve finally snaps that he isn't getting into his pants.

Steve breathes out a deep sigh as his “date” gets up and goes to the bathroom. Some fucking date this is—they haven't even gotten their fucking food yet. What a disaster.

“Hey,” he hears their waiter—Eddie, his nametag reminds Steve when he looks up—say after a minute of his date being gone. “I hate to be the bearer of super bad news, but I just saw your date slip out the back door, and I don't know if he’s planning on coming back.”

There's a lilt of sympathy in his voice and Steve can't help but snort.

“Of course he did,” Steve says. “Why can't guys just be upfront about what they want? It would save everyone so much time.”

He’s not looking for an answer, but Eddie's mouth twists and he says, “Guys are stupid. I mean, they’d have to be to give up the chance to get to know someone as cute as you.”

Steve can't really muster up a smile at the pity, so he says, “Well, whatever the case, he was my ride home, so I think I need to call a Lyft now. Can you box the food up and bring me the check?” At least he’ll have lunch for tomorrow, which doesn't feel like an adequate consolation prize for how shitty he feels right now.

Eddie shakes his head and says, “There’s no way I’m letting you pay for such a shitty date.” Steve opens his mouth to protest, but Eddie continues, “Tell you what, my shift ends in ten minutes. Why don't I show you how I’d treat you if we went on a date.”

Steve's heart thuds in his chest, a flicker of hope in this incredibly dull evening. “Seriously?” he asks.

Eddie nods. “Think of it as a trial run. See if I rank good enough for a real one.” He winks and Steve finds himself nodding dumbly, still shocked at the rapid turn of events.

“Okay,” Steve says, kind of breathless.

Eddie heads back to finish cleaning up his other tables before he ends his shift, and Steve fills Robin in over text about what happened.

He’s still waiting for a response when Eddie shows back up with two plates of food, setting one in front of Steve and the other where his date sat before sliding into the chair across from him.

He’s wearing a different shirt, Steve realizes. It also looks like he attempted to wrangle his curly hair into something more manageable, maybe sprayed some water on it to smooth it down.

The thought that this guy, this random guy who happened to be his waiter on this horrific night, would put in more effort than his previous date makes Steve's cheeks get hot.

Maybe this night really can turn around.

“Alright, names. Hi, I'm Eddie.” Eddie says, sticking his hand out across the table cartoonishly for a handshake. Steve suppresses a laugh and takes Eddie’s hand with a smile.

“Steve.” He says, and Eddie’s eyes brighten before he takes his hand back.

“So, Steve, what do you do for fun?” Eddie says, leaning forward slightly with vibrant confidence, tone feeling more and more noticeably rehearsed as he goes. “Other than light up the room with that smile, of course.”

Steve huffs a laugh, blushing despite himself.

“You practice that one a lot?”

Eddie shrinks back a little, still smiling even as he messes with the hair on the back of his neck, already starting to ruffle what he’d tried to tame.

“Yeah, it’s uh…”

“It’s sweet.” Steve leans in a little closer himself, trying to match the effort Eddie keeps putting in. “Almost as sweet as the smile you're wearing.”

Eddie flushes pink and lets out a little “Thank you” to cover a nervous laugh—and christ, Steve is already hooked.

Steve hums and grabs his fork to start eating and Eddie mirrors him.

“Thank you for this by the way.” Steve continues, “Tonight's been… ugh, you know.”

“A special kind of shitty?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, “So all this is… really nice.”

“I'm glad.” Eddie says, voice soft before he shrugs and continues casually “M’hoping I’ll at least do better than the last guy.”

“Yeah, of course, you haven’t even asked me to blow you yet or anything.”

Eddie turns red and busts out a nervous laugh, looking away immediately. God, he’s so fucking cute.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm not–” Eddie looks back at him, nervous still, but sincere anyway, “That's not exactly my style.”

“You a wine and dine kinda guy?”

Eddie shrugs lightly, then he seems to get an idea, leaning in again with a smile “Actually– ideally, I'm a dine and mine kinda guy.”

A smile takes over Steve’s face that he can’t fully tamp down, a little flustered and a lot amused.

Eddie preens, then continues with a shy smile.

“Though, uh, usually it's more dine and…” Eddie pauses, “Pine. Dine and pine. You know, like pining.”

Steve makes his face relax as he nods and leans back. “Oh, yeah, like the tree.”

Eddie stops and looks at Steve, and soon Steve’s smile breaks out again.

“No, I know what you mean.” He says with a little laugh that Eddie quickly mirrors.

Eddie visibly relaxes, slouching overdramatically to the side with a sigh.

“God, I swear I’m usually good at this sort of thing, words and stories and shit,” He groans, gesturing around almost like he’s talking to himself, “But apparently I meet one pretty boy and suddenly I’ve got screws loose. And they’re all falling out, all across the floor, ‘there they go!’, y’know?”

Steve bites back a snicker and hums a quiet agreement. Eddie notices, though, looks up and sees right to Steve’s amusement, so Steve decides to save them both the embarrassment and move on.

“So your job. You like it here?

“Oh yeah, absolutely,” Eddie says, perking up and gesturing as he starts talking, “The owners are really cool, they were our neighbors– Wayne’s—my uncle’s—neighbors when I first moved in with him, way way back, and they were so chill, loved having people over. Then one time in highschool I mentioned saving up ‘cause I’m trying to make it big with my band, and they offered to give me a job here while we get there.”

“That’s awesome. Your band any good?”

“Depends on who you ask.” Eddie laughs, playing with the food on his plate, “Wayne says we’re pretty good, which is probably the equivalent of moms showing up to their toddler’s dance recitals, but it’s something.”

“Where'd you guys play?”

“The Hideout, a couple blocks down…”

Steve nods.

“Yeah, it’s, uh, pretty fun if you ever wanted to stop by.“

“Sounds like a great second date.”

Eddie blushes, playing with his hair again as he smiles and looks away.

“I’ll probably have to wear earplugs– not because of your band or–”

“No, no, no, you’re good–” Eddie says, almost jumping up to reassure him, “It’s metal, that’s normal– good, even.”

“Oh– good.” Steve says, a bit awkwardly, and looks back down to his food.

Eddie leaves barely a moment of silence before he pulls the conversation back together.

“So what about you? You just a professional bad-Tinder-dater?”

Steve huffs and fiddles with his fork.

“Guidance counselor, actually.”

“Oh damn, really?”

“Yeah, Middle school.”

“Oh god,” Eddie groans playfully, “I can't imagine going back there willingly.”

“Yeah, I mean, it can get pretty rough,” Steve shrugs, “It's good though. Kids start thinking about who they are, I get to try and make that a little less shitty.”

“That’s a tall order.” Eddie laughed into his glass. “I respect it though. Hell, just having a queer adult exist around me would’ve made a lot of it easier.”

“God, yeah. I've got practice, at least, for when they need more than just some guy standing around in an office.” he laughed, pulling out sarcastic air quotes for the next part, “ I ‘babysat’ kids in middle school before I graduated. Bunch of little shits but they were good kids– still are good. They're like four years younger than me though, so they're more like siblings than kids.”

“Yeah, bet they don't take well to ‘kids’.”

“Oh, they hate it.” Steve laughed and Eddie followed with him, “Always hated it, but Dustin put his foot down after highschool. Rob and I call them my ‘twenty-somethings’ now.”

“God, wait, how old are you?” Eddie laughed

“Twenty-six.”

Eddie laughed a little louder, a lively and full laugh that looked enchanting on Eddie.

“You'd love them, they're all–

Steve’s phone buzzes.

Both of them look over to it on the table. Steve moves it to the seat next to him, looked up to Eddie with an apologetic smile.

His phone buzzes again.

And again, and soon Eddie’s eyes flick in that direction, eyebrow quirking with barely-restrained curiosity.

Then Steve’s phone starts ringing, the electric guitars of Hammer To Fall creeping up in volume way too fast for comfort.

“Sorry–” Steve cringes, grabbing his phone and answering the call in a furious whisper, “Robin, are you dying?”

“No, but thank you for confirming that you aren’t.”

“I texted you what happened.”

“Yeah and it was vague as hell! I reserve the right to be a worrywart with this shit.”

“Yeah, I know.” Steve sighs, but can’t really argue with her on it. “This was going well, though–”

“Is.” Eddie chimes in, not trying to be loud enough for the phone to pick it up, just for Steve to hear him clearly.

“Is going well.” Steve smiles.

“Oooo okayyy.” Robin hums and Steve can hear her cheeky smile through the phone.

“Goodbye, Robin.” Steve says, failing a half-assed attempt to cover his amusement.

“Oh wait no, tell him if he tries anything I’ll–”

“M’not doing that.”

“I will though, I’ll go after him–”

“Oh woah you’re breaking up, can’t hear you.” Steve deadpans.

“Steve, I know–”

“Love you, bye–”

“Steeeeve–”

“Don’t pull your hair out.” Steve says and hangs up, coming back to the present to Eddie watching him, thankfully looking amused instead of annoyed.

“Sorry about that.” Steve says.

“No, no, it’s fine.” Eddie leans forward again, propping his head up in one hand, “So… friend?”

“Best friend, has to be to get away with shit like that so easily.”

Eddie snorts.

“What was she calling about?”

“I wasn’t clear that this new date thing was gonna be a good thing.”

Eddie nods civilly.

“She worries,” Steve continues, “Fuckin’ tinder dates, y’know?”

“Uh, not really….” Eddie smiles.

“Good for you. They’re all the same asshole in a different haircut.” Steve says, and Eddie smiles, laughing a little with him before continuing with something calmer, a little more earnest.

“Then why keep going to them?”

Steve shrugs.

“Call me an optimist, I guess.”

Eddie hums noncommittally, like he’s thinking more than he’s sharing, and continues the conversation in a lighter direction.

The rest of the date is wonderful. A little less chaotic, especially once they start finally eating their food for real, but what it lacks in eventfulness it makes up for in comfort. They’re not exactly quiet, but Eddie’s energy always comes with a sincerity underneath, like he’s bold and fun because he just is, and not because he’s making himself be.

It’s refreshing. And as the night goes on, it becomes intoxicating.

So when Eddie offers to save him the Lyft fee and just drive Steve home, Steve agrees, just to get a little longer in Eddie’s bubble.

Eddie leads him through the restaurant and out the back into a small parking lot with a handful of cars and one big van, decorated with a clearly hand-painted dragon on the side. Which, of course, ends up being Eddie’s.

“Dustin would love this thing.” Steve says as he hops into the passenger’s seat, not really thinking twice about it as he looks at the interior, eyes lingering on the big fuzzy dice with too many sides hanging from the mirrors.

“So Dustin is…?”

“A Twenty-something.” Steve laughs as he spins the fuzzy dice to see all of its sides. “He’s like my little brother. Loves DnD and science and… all the nerd shit.”

“Nerd shit?”

“Yeah, I mean– it's not my thing but it’s cool. I’ve played with Dustin and them a couple times.”

“Oooo, a bit of a nerd, are we?” Eddie hums in a weird, almost witchy voice.

“Casually.”

“Mmm, but you’re already down the path~~”

“Just drive, dude.” Steve says with a fond eye roll.

“As you wish, your majesty.” Eddie hums in his normal voice, giving Steve a glowing glance before shoving the keys in.

“Alright, I'm about to push your nerd-tolerance to its limits.” Eddie says, pulling out his phone with a grin. He connects it to the car and quickly turns it down before drums and guitar erupt from the speakers, and Steve flinches at the volume.

“Sorry, sorry.” Eddie whispers and turns down the music again.

Steve nods, and after a second of the music playing much more quietly, he finds it much more comfortable. Nice, even. The energy is quick and alive like Eddie is, though the aggressive vocals fit his outward aesthetic more than his borderline goofy demeanor.

“It’s not the music, I promise.” Steve says, saying it casually but meaning it sincerely.

“You’re fine, I get it.” Eddie laughs, a little too cynically for Steve’s liking.

“No, I–” Steve reaches for Eddie’s hand between them, intertwining fingers and bringing both hands up between them, “I’m serious, I like it. My head’s a little sensitive, been hit a few too many times, but it’s nice. It’s bold and very energetic… stuff that I already like about you.”

Eddie blushes hard—a sweet cherry pink—as he slouches, bringing their joined hands closer to his face like he’s trying to hide behind them. Eddie rests his forehead against the back of Steve’s hand and huffs a quiet laugh.

“God, you’re quite the charmer, Stevie.” Eddie says, and Steve finds his face warming too.

“And I’m guessing it’s working?” Steve laughs.

Eddie looks up at him, smiling wide.

“Oh, it’s working very well.” Eddie says, and brings their hands closer to him again to plant a soft kiss onto Steve’s hand.

Steve’s face goes warm again, lights him on fire, and Eddie’s smile turns slightly smug before he looks away.

“Alright,” Eddie says, looking back to the front to drive but not letting go of Steve’s hand. He even reaches his left arm over to change the gears, leaning into how silly he looks to make Steve laugh.

It’s sweet, it's genuine, and it's everything to Steve.

Eddie starts driving, hand still firmly holding onto Steve’s, neither of them willing to let go first. Steve looks at it as Eddie drives, splitting most of his attention between their hands, Eddie’s profile lit up by the colorful city lights, and the road ahead as he navigates Eddie to his apartment.

And if they miss a turn or two because Steve’s tired brain doesn’t want to watch the damn road? Eddie doesn’t mention it.

“Alright.” Eddie says, putting the car into park with his left hand again, though far less comically now.

He sits there for a second, quiet like something’s on his mind, so Steve waits.

“Okay, uh,” Eddie starts, looking vaguely down as he wanders through what he wants to say, “I had fun, I’m assuming by how the nights gone that you did, too…”

Steve squeezes Eddie's hand, and Eddie laughs.

“I had a really great time. And I want to do this again, if you want to.” Eddie glances up at Steve for a second before his eyes dart away again. “But I want to be sure you’re… you’re not being an optimist with me. That you want want this, y’know, because you're an amazing guy, Stevie. I don’t know how you keep having such shit luck but believe me when I tell you it's not because of you.”

Eddie looks back up at him again and keeps his gaze there, looking more relaxed now.

“So, uh, I would love to take you out again.” Eddie says, “If you want to.”

If he wants to, as if that's not the most romantic thing Steve’s heard in his life.

Steve almost says that. He also debates kissing him or pulling him into an awkward hug over the center console that he’s sure would be put up with no matter how uncomfortable it’d be. But Steve doesn’t, because Eddie continues before Steve can make a decision.

“What do you want?”

Steve resists the urge to say a cheesy ‘You’ and thinks about it, really thinks so he can put together words that make sense, so he can give Eddie a real answer.

“I want a long relationship. A real one, y’know?”

Eddie nods.

“And I want to get married, someday. I want someone who’ll stay that long, who will love and let me love them, all cheesy and clingy and shit.”

Eddie hums, searching Steve’s face.

“And?”

Steve looks down at the joined hands between them.

“And I’d love if it were you. You’re sweet, so sweet, but you’re also… alive. Everything you do, you’re…” Steve thinks hard for a moment, working out how to phrase it. “It’s like the world doesn’t weigh you down. And you’re so genuine and you’ll come and say what you mean like it’s nothing, and I think every one of the people in my life—my favorite people—would love being around you almost as much as I do.”

Steve looks back up to him, face hot with another intense flush, and tries to smile casually.

“Hate to break it to you, dude, but you’re kinda my perfect man.”

Eddie huffs a breathy laugh, face painted with disbelief and wonder.

“Okay, then. Case closed.”

“Yeah,” Steve hums, with as much fondness as possible. Steve leans in across the center console, bringing a hand up slowly, trying to signal that he’s leaning in for a kiss.

It takes Eddie a second, and Steve gets to watch him look down at Steve’s hand and look at Steve leaning in, gets to see the moment it clicked before Eddie lunges to meet him halfway and then some, making the hand that was supposed to cradle Eddie’s face hold onto the seat beneath him to keep their balance.

Eddie kisses him hard at first, bringing a hand up to card through Steve’s hair, excited and alive. Then Eddie seems to come back to his senses, moving back but taking Steve with him until they’re both leaning over the center again.

Their kiss softens, intensity melting out into fondness, gentle but passionate, warm and Steve wants to melt from it.

Still, Steve’s going home tonight, going to go upstairs to Robin and tell her all about it. He’ll get to have a good night's sleep in a bed that doesn’t need cleaning, and he’ll get to wake up to the idea of something new brewing fresh in his mind.

Steve pulls back gently and Eddie does the same, eyes flicking open one after the other, a smile on Steve’s face and another lighting up Eddie’s.

Steve catches his breath, feeling lighter now than he has in ages, and Eddie opens his mouth to say something again.

“Does this mean I can get your number?”

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie fluff #fluff #modern au #happy ending #devon's writings

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justfangirlstuffs · 2 years

Note

Your fics are very different from each other (a good thing!) What was your inspiration for each one of them?

Thank you very much! Whoo boy, okay, everyone sit down, story time with Fan!

So the inspiration for the Little Assistant fic was that I wanted to write about a kid becoming best friends with the DCA. It was simple as that, but also it was a way to help heal my inner child (and others' I would later find out). Plus I am a sucker for the found family trope.

The Truthseekers one was when I was exploring as idea of finding Sun and Moon after the plex burned down and it sort of just spiraled from there.

The vampire one, EYEM? I literally just saw some fanart of Vampire Sun and Moon and my brain just exploded with what ifs.

I do enjoy writing for various ranges as it were because I understand that different people need different things when it comes to stories. So I have Little Assistant for those who want a purely platonic found family experience, and I have Truthseekers for those who want something a little more zany, and I have EYEM for those who enjoy that dark edge with a dash of spice.

They all do have a common theme though: finding friendship, or someone you can connect with, is one of the greatest life changers you can ever have, and it can lift you out of some very dark places and change you for the better.

Writing these stories has been good practice and it's also been a lot of fun, and I just feel blessed that people enjoy them because, well, that's the big reason why I do it. I want my stories to make someone's day just a little better if possible. I want to provide that same escape that has helped me get through some very challenging parts of my life. So I write.

Anyway.... sorry for babbling. Thanks for coming to my Ted talk. ^^'

#curious anons #i did not mean to ramble this much #i hope i answered your question adequately #sun and moon #fnaf dca #fnaf sundrop #fnaf moondrop

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wannabeschyulersister · 8 months

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lovelorn and nobody knows

Sometimes it felt like you had the words “I’m in love with my boss” written on your forehead in big capital letters.

As much as you tried to hide it, you couldn’t help but marvel at him. He was truly amazing at his craft and seeing him so passionate made you want to do it as well.

There were times that he acted a little like a jerk but he’d redeemed himself recently. Thanks to Sydney.

And to Claire.

You were surprised when you learned he was seeing someone. He brought Claire around when the restaurant was practically falling apart. It was such a weird moment. You physically could feel the awkwardness in the air.

She seemed really nice but part of you still disliked her just because she could call Carmy hers.

You avoided being around them as much as possible. It hurt just looking at the way he smiled at her.

Every part of your being wished that were you.

You wished you were the one he confided in after a long day at the Bear. You wished that you were the one he walked around the city with hand in hand. You wished you were the one that had his heart.

You felt like a lovesick fool.

Instead of subjecting yourself to seeing the happy couple, you started to back out of any group activities unless it was absolutely necessary.

The group would often go and get drinks at a nearby bar at least once a week. You stopped going as soon as you heard Claire was a regular now. People would ask if you were going and you always had a lie ready to go.

As much as you loved working at The Bear, you knew that it would probably be best if you removed yourself from the situation. It hurt every time you had to be around Carmen and Claire. You didn’t want to constantly put yourself in heartache.

There was a popular Italian restaurant across town that needed a sous. You had a friend of a friend that recommended you. It was the fresh start that you needed.

When you got the job, it was bittersweet. You should’ve been happier than you were.

So, you drafted up a letter of resignation, took a deep breath, and walked into Carmen’s office after closing. He was busy looking at an invoice when you knocked softly on the doorframe to make yourself known.

He looked at you and smiled a little, “Hey, stranger. We missed you last night.”

“Yeah, sorry I missed it. I uh- have something to give you.” You wanted to get this part over with.

“Yeah? What’s that?” He reached over and grabbed the letter that you handed him. You hoped he didn’t notice the slight shakiness of your hand.

You didn’t answer him because you didn’t trust your voice in that moment. Carmen quickly read through your letter and you watched the expression change on his face.

“What the hell is this? You’re leavin’?” Carmen stood up from his seat and placed your letter down.

“I got a job opportunity that I couldn’t say no too. I’m sorry that this puts you in a situation where you are short staffed but I’m giving you a two weeks notice.” You explained to him.

“I don’t understand. You’re happy here, aren’t you? D-did something happen’ that I’m not aware of?” Carmen questioned.

Yeah, you fell in love with someone else.

You shook your head, “No, nothing happened. I just think I’m ready for a new challenge.”

Carmen didn’t look like he bought your lie. “(Y/n), you don’t think that I’ve noticed that you’re distant and-and you haven’t been coming out with all of us?”

Shit.

You’d hoped that maybe he was so busy with Claire that he hadn’t noticed you slipping away from the group at all.

“I’ve just been busy with other things.” You lied again.

“What’s going on?” He questioned.

“Nothing is going on, Carmen.”

He crossed his arms against his chest and it took everything in you not to stare and drool. Even when you tried to be strong, his biceps made you feel weak.

“I don’t believe you.” He stated.

“That’s fine. I just wanted to do the respectable thing and give you an adequate notice.”

Carmen stared at you and it made you feel like he could read your mind. Like he knew the exact reason on why you were leaving.

“I don’t want you to leave, (Y/n). I think you’re amazing and- and you have a bright future in this industry. I think it’s a mistake.”

Your chest ached at his kind words. “I’m just ready for something new.”

He sighed and looked away from you as someone knocked on the door. You turned and saw Claire holding a takeout bag, “Thought I’d surprise you with dinner.”

“Now isn’t a good time, Claire.” Carmen told her.

She looked disappointed, “Am I interrupting something?”

You quickly shook your head, “No, the conversation is over. Have a good night.”

“(Y/n), wait!” Carmen called out to you but you left his office without another look back.

Even thought it killed you to walk away from him, you had to put yourself first.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x (y/n)#carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto #the bear x reader #the bear imagine #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto

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spatialwave · 5 months

Text

“𝓱𝓪𝓽𝓮’𝓼 𝓪 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭”

pairing: the ghoul x fem!reader word count: 1.8k words summary: you’re not sure how, but you, a vault dweller, managed to sneak your way into the ghoul’s heart. warnings: implied sa notes: just a little/poorly paced ficlet LOL, testing the waters of writing for cooper. kind of fluffy, the start of maybe a little ficlet series?? also taking request for ghoulcy or ghoul x readers! 🖤

-> next part!

being a so-called ‘vaultie’ had put you in quite the predicament while on your journey through the wastelands. unbeknownst to you, a bounty had been placed on your delicate head — a large bag of caps that would be sure to provide a ghoul with adequate supplies to keep from going feral.

you, on the other hand, were severely unprepared for what the surface would bring. several nights alone, your supplies depleting. hell, you hadn’t even known that bounties were a thing, or that you’d be needing to purchase your next meal with a handful of bottle caps.

if it weren’t for cooper finding you, you’d likely have died out in the wastes with the radiation eating you away until you were nothing but a pile of bones. still, you weren’t fond of the treatment he’d greeted you with.

when you first saw the shadowy figure, your naivety had you hopeful. you stepped closer and even spoke a soft, “hello?” before a lasso had been thrown in your direction and wrapping snug around your neck.

“were’t you taught that you shouldn’t trust strangers in the dark?” the voice of a southern man spoke, thick like syrup. sounding like the man in the movies you had watched with your dad back in the vault.

knowing what you did now, you wished that you hadn’t put so much trust in him, though, you had no idea a ghoul would be making himself known.

the first day was brutal, being dragged along like a dog with blisters forming on your feet and your lips cracking and bleeding from dehydration. you had tried to plead your case to him, explaining how you needed to find your father, but he hadn’t shown an ounce of remorse.

by the fourth day? well, for your own sake you wouldn’t say it aloud, but you were near certain that you had grown on the ghoul. he removed the rope that left reddened marks on your skin and even gave you the chance to clean yourself up in a bucket of rain water. even gave some jerky he’d dried out from some critters he killed—allowing you to indulge in food without resorting to cannibalism like he had.

you didn’t want to push your luck with him, but you wondered why he’d grown soft on you.

the man was far from soft or vulnerable, unafraid to push you around or tighten the rope when you spoke out of turn. so, when you had a moment of reprieve after cleaning yourself up, your hair damp and clinging to the side of your face, you forced yourself to ask the question on your mind.

“why’d you remove the rope?” you asked, sitting around a fire on the third night—having never felt safer than with him. your knees were pressed to your chest and you fought away the hunger pangs as your eyes drifted to the ghoul sitting propped against a tree, eyes unseen under his hat.

you were greeted with the sound of a soft grunt as he shifted in his spot, and you could tell that he was thinking of an answer. something he could say that wouldn’t translate to ‘i’m growing tired of treating you like a piece of meat’.

“i don’t needa’ reason,” the ghoul muttered, lifting a hand up to his hat and adjusting it so it covered more of his face, “but that pricey bounty on that pretty head of yours is higher if i make sure you’re alive and well. not my preference, but can’t argue with money.”

the compliment struck a chord in you, one that rose colour to your cheeks and had you turning your head away to look at the small fire. pursing your lips, you weren’t satisfied with the answer.

“i could run away, though. without the rope around my neck,” you piped up, brows furrowing.

a heavy and loud sigh came from the hole in cooper’s face, your eyes lifting to him as you watched him a lift a hand. that hand pushed back the hat on his head so those piercing eyes could meet with your own doe-eyed stare. a smirk grew on his lips and you felt your stomach twist nervously.

“how far do you think you’d get if you tried to run, vaultie?” the ghoul questioned you with that sickening look on his face, “the bounty prefers you alive, but don’t think i won’t hesitate to put a bullet in your head if you try to stir up some trouble for me.”

when day seven had rolled around, you found yourself in a predicament that only confused the everlasting fuck out of you. cooper had finally brought you to the man who had some caps for your head—a man who you didn’t even know, but claimed to know your father.

your heart shattered when you were thrown into a cage, bruises already forming on your skin when you had made contact with the shoddy brick wall. eyes fixated on the ghoul who was busy shoving caps into his pockets and taking precious vials from the box that had been offered to him.

what a fool you were to think that the ghoul would change his mind, that maybe he’d have an ounce of empathy in his irradiated body. you were no more valuable than what kept him alive… you couldn’t blame him for that.

“well, well,” the man spoke, his body covered in dirt and grime, teeth so decayed you could smell his breath even as he stood over you after entering the makeshift cell, “don’t try squirm on me now, we’re going to get ya’ all tied up… then i’ll have some fun with you.”

your lips quaked in fear, the first time you truly felt fear in days. cooper, the ghoul, had become your safety net and yet he tossed you away like you were nothing. into the hands of a pig, no less.

“don’t touch me,” you yelled at him, hearing the sounds of footsteps retreating.

you were alone.

“quit making a fuss,” the man spit at you, “the quieter you are, the less this will hurt.”

the sound of a distant gunshot had caused the man to pull away from you, and for you to perk up in your position on the ground. you hadn’t realized your entire body was shaking and you assumed the worst—someone was about to come in here and kill you.

why the hell did you ever think coming to the surface was a good idea?

you quickly sink back against the wall as you hear commotion, men yelling and more gunshots. it was a shootout.

“what the fuck is going on?” the man in front of you yelled, but no one answered. he spun on his feet and bent down in front of you, a heavy hand grabbing tight at your wrist, “get up, we’re leaving.”

“wha—“

you words were cut off when footsteps entered the room once more, the man quickly standing and dropping you back to the floor hastily where the back of your head smacked hard against the brick wall and left your vision hazy.

“you stupid ghoul,” the man roared and you felt your chest flutter, even as another gun shot rang through your ears and blood splatted across your face, a gurgling sound filling your ears.

through your blurred vision, you looked up just as the grotesque man collapsed in front of you, blood spilling out of the wound in his neck as he twitched until the blood loss killed him.

“cooper?” your voice croaked, the name slipping from your tongue easily. a name you’d wriggled out from him just a couple days prior.

a figure knelt in front of you, you immediately recognized those eyes even as your vision had grown spotty. you parted your lips to say more, but nothing came out.

“stay with me,” his southern drawl comforted you as you felt your mind edging the line of unconsciousness, the pain in the back of your head feeling cold now, “vaultie—“

the crackling of a fire was all you heard when your eyes fluttered open, red and orange filling your pupils as the smell of smoke filled your lungs. there was something underneath your body, leathery fabric… and something brushing through your hair.

smacking your lips together, you tried to sit up but failed immediately when you realized your body wasn’t ready for moving yet.

“slow down, cowgirl,” a voice spoke, “we’re in no rush.”

that’s when you realize that there were fingers in your hair. cooper’s fingers. why was he soothing you? when did you get here?

“you left me,” your voice was weak, still hardly able to keep your eyes open, but you figured a stimpack was the reason you hadn’t felt anymore pain from the back of your head. your first concussion.

“almost did,” he said, a heavy sigh coming from him, but nothing else to explain his actions.

tilting your head back just enough, you were able to spot cooper sitting next to you, legs outstretched in front of him and head tilted back against the wall he leaned up against. he’d found an old building to set up the night in, all of the windows shattered and broken, so the smoke from the small fire had a place to escape.

“but you came back,” you murmured, rolling slowly until you were on your back and cooper had to retract his hand from your hair, arms instead settling over his chest, “i thought you hated me.”

a snort, which you could only assume was his form of laughter, came from the ghoul. a smirk playing along his lips as you watched him from your position on the floor, his leather jacket keeping you from laying on the layer of dust that accumulated in the building.

“if i hated you, darling, you would’ve been gone the moment i laid eyes on you,” cooper answered honestly. you finally got that vulnerability you asked for.

your lips twitched, hiding back a smile as you adjusted yourself more comfortably on his coat that he so lovingly rested you on. as you laid there in silence, allowing your eyes to fall shut once more, you couldn’t help but wonder where you’d be in the coming weeks.

now that cooper had delivered his bounty, you wondered what could be next on his plate of adventure. you hoped that you’d be able to convince him to help find your father, but that was a conversation you’d wait for in the morning.

for now, you were content with the feeling of gentle comfort as his hand returned to your hair, calloused, weathered fingers pulling through the strands as you lulled back to sleep—knowing that you’d somehow found your way in the ghoul’s heart.

#fallout tv #ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout prime #fallout fic #wordsbyspatial

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the-whispers-of-death · 6 months

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how paranoid is vampire!stone?

I like to think of immortal creatures such as werewolves, vampires, and obviously deities as creatures with higher metabolisms than regular mortals. So most mortal drugs and poisons will not work on this man and he thanks it for him.

Now there are some things about vampires, like the stake in the heart thing, that I just don't conform to. Like I think any immortal creature (except those who are internal to the balance of the universe, but that's neither here nor there for this post) can only be killed if someone is aiming for their head or if it's a specific poison meant for that specific creature.

So he's not paranoid in the way he used to be, like food and drinks, but he is paranoid about protecting his head and neck. So I guess he switched from area to be extremely paranoid about to another.

#tyler's asks #tyler's inbox #tyler answers asks #tyler answers questions #answering asks #answering questions #task force 141 oc #call of duty oc #cod oc #task force 141 oc: stone #call of duty oc: stone #cod oc: stone #vampire!stone #stone varaints #the multiverse of stone #hope that answered your question adequately #I really love having the only Stone variant to not be paranoid being Baker!Stone #literally everyone else is paranoid #:)

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domesticandlovingmonsters · 3 months

Text

Dark Fae Romance: Hezirus (Chapter 1)

The first chapter in the long awaited romance story with my Dark Fae character, Hezirus!

Your can read the Starter Chapter here, which will introduce you to the characters and give some context. This story was in the kiln for so long and has many bits to it. I got way too into the story and I absolutely will not apologize! I enjoyed it too much!

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Chapter Words: 11k Warnings: a sfw starter. Notes: I do not give permission to anyone to repost, steal, copy, bind my stories. Also this is the Patreon Exclusive Freebie for you all to enjoy. You can read Chapter 2 on Patreon, which has just been published.

Your stomach growled loudly in the silence of the dungeon. Someone whimpered and the shadows chittered like a swarm of insects as they passed your door.

Daylight streamed into your cell through the small square hole in the wall of your room. And that’s where the servant found you. The moment the day winked against the stone, you sat in its brightness. Soaking in whatever warmth the cold morning air allowed.

You had no idea what time it was. But when the cell door opened, you were dizzily glad for the hot soup and bread that the owl woman placed by your feet.

“The prince wishes you to join him for a bath this morning.” The owl woman said as you dug into your breakfast. Your eyes widened as you swallowed.

“Is that an order?” You asked, a little more harshly than was probably needed. But you felt the giant round eyes regard you emotionlessly. As if your anger didn’t matter to her. It probably didn’t.

“I would assume so. Since you are his pet.”

“I’m not his pet.” You snapped, eating another spoonful of soup and buttered bread.

“Yes, you are.” The owl woman said. Her head then twisted to look behind her without moving her shoulders. Very much like how you’ve seen owls normally do. Her feathers puffed up for a second before she settled and turned her head back to you. Blinking slowly. “Would you prefer to be fed to Master Maahes? Because he is just down the hall waiting for me to leave the door open.”

Terror gripped you and you almost dropped your bowl. “W-What?”

“He can’t touch you while I am here. Since Prince Hezirus would punish him for breaking the rules. But if you do not wish to follow the orders given to you, I am allowed to threaten you to make you follow me. Master Maahes, I presume, is an adequate threat, is he not?”

You wanted to throw the soup. Maybe not at the owl because she is only doing her job. But at something. Did you risk getting rubbed down by the prince in a bath? Or thoroughly destroyed on the floor of a cell by a mountain of a man?

You grumbled and sighed. Finishing off the soup before handing the owl woman back the bowl. “Fine. Take me to the prince.”

“Excellent choice. Follow me.” The owl turned on her three toed feet and led the way out of the dungeons. You expected to see Maahes around every corner. But as you scaled more and more stairs, you felt like Maahes was no longer around. The owl woman looked calm as she hopped up each step. Her feathered hands gliding along the banister of the staircase as she walked.

You couldn’t stop staring at the way she literally jumped up every step. It was kind of adorable.

“What are you?” You asked. Unsure how to entirely word your enquiry without sounding rude. But the owl woman didn’t seem to mind. She kept walking as she answered.

“My name is Nola. I am Prince Hezirus’ head Steward of the estate.” Nola finally gave a reaction by her feathers puffing up proudly with the title. But it didn’t answer your question. And when you voiced this, Nola glanced at you with her own quizzical look. “What do you mean? I am Nola. Stewardess of the estate.”

You were unsure if Nola just didn’t understand the question. Or was not giving you the proper answer on purpose. You decided to leave it. Maybe even ask Hezirus if you needed something to talk about. “So…the prince asked to bathe with me?”

“He asked me to bring you to him while he bathed, yes.” Nola nodded. Her hopping gait shifted to a walk once the stairs leveled out onto flat ground.

“Why?” You asked.

“I would assume to bathe.” Was Nola’s response. And it was physically painful not to roll your eyes. Was this how all Fae creatures spoke, or just Nola? Another question you added to the list you were going to ask of the prince.

You gave up trying to make small talk and followed Nola to a beautiful set of wooden doors. Bronze and gold encrusted the carvings of a tree in autumn. And when Nola approached, the doors opened. Splitting the tree directly down the center.

Nola halted by the open doors and stepped to the side. Bowing her curved beak. “In you go. Call for me if you need an escort back to your cell.” Her tone was so sweet it didn’t at all fit the situation. And you stuttered a thank you as she turned on her clawed feet and hurried away.

You hesitantly stepped into the room beyond the entrance. And when your bare feet touched warm stone, the doors behind you swung closed. And your ears picked up a very soft click of a lock setting into place.

The room in front of you was as if you stepped into a forest oasis. A large pool of crystal clear water filled the majority of the large room, steaming in the early morning light. Moss circled the pool. Poking through rocks and twisted roots that acted as a natural border encircling the pond. The soft green flooring felt as soft as a cloud under your feet as you stepped closer to the water. Inspecting its depth, and finding that it was merely deep enough to come to your waist.

A harp was playing somewhere, filling the room with a soft lullaby-like melody. And cascading over the room was a ceiling made from the branches of a white tree. Golden leaves rustled in a cool breeze and small birds fluttered between the thick, pale branches. Sunlight streamed into the room through an open ceiling, giving the water a pale gold reflection.

“Over here, pet.” The prince’s smooth voice echoed softly through the room. You followed his voice over a path of moss, circling around a flowering hedge, acting as a barrier to shield the area beyond from the door. And there you found the prince by a tumbling waterfall. His long hair twisted up into a loose bun and his bare chest had a glistening sheen to it. His wings were soaked through. Sprawled heavily over the surface of the water as Hezirus dipped lower into the pool to wash off the soap from his shoulders.

“I see the dungeons didn’t dampen your light.” The prince hummed. Those bronze colored eyes traced heavily over your body as you moved closer. “Come join me. You reek of the lizard and the filthy cells.”

You could feel the warmth of the pool even from your position by the edge. The chill was still heavily set in your skin and the thought of a warm bath sounded heavenly. But the dress wasn’t designed for swimming. And you didn’t see any swimwear around to put on. Only plush towels and more plants. Even a cart full of food and beverages.

“Is there a problem, pet?” Hezirus’ tone made you snap your attention back to him. There was an undertone of impatience but his gaze was gentle, waiting for you to join him.

You sighed, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

Hezirus chuckled. And he gestured to himself…all of himself…from the chiseled, flawless chest and down below the water where you could see his cock swinging freely in the water. “Neither do I. Strip. No one will see you.” The last few words were a tease. One that was carried on a smile that carved his beautiful face into something gorgeous.

It hadn’t been an order. But you felt the promise of one lingering on the edge of his words. You sighed and threw your pride and embarrassment aside, sliding the sleeves of the dress down your shoulders and then wriggling out of the tight material.

Hezirus’ gaze didn’t budge from you as you became bare in front of him. Raking down over your breasts and the curve of your hips. You ignored how he licked his lips when your core was left unclothed.

And his smile broadened when you quickly slipped into the pool. Hissing as the warm water bit at your frozen skin.

“There. Isn’t that better?” He asked, leaning back in the water so he was somewhat floating on the surface. Thankfully his hips were still below the water so you were graced with not seeing anything.

It was better. Much, much better. You sighed and let yourself sink until only your head was above water. Enjoying the sweet salvation that the warm waters brought. Your eyes even closed for a second, but they flew open when you felt a finger graze along your arm.

You jerked back. And Hezirus laughed, raising his hand as if showing you where they were. He was much closer than before. “My apologies. I couldn’t help but touch you. You look so soft.”

“Please,” You bit at the word, like it was a bad taste in your mouth. “Don’t touch me.”

“Or what? You’ll splash me? Get water in my hair?” Hezirus scoffed. But thankfully, moved back a step and his wings made a wave behind him as they shifted. “But as you wish. I won’t touch you until you say so.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised there was no fight in the prince to get closer. “You’re awfully compilable for a fae.”

“And you’re awfully skittish for a woman who willingly jumped into a fairy circle.” Hezirus retorted. Lacing his fingers behind his head. His arms flexed as he rested his head against his palms. You looked away before your staring was noticed. And you half turned your body so you could start rubbing your hands over your body. Using the water to try and get some of the dirt and grime off your skin. There was a smell on you. It was unpleasant and you hoped it wasn’t something you had laid in while in the cell.

“Want me to scrub your back?” Hezirus asked as he floated nearer to the waterfall. His gaze still fixed on you as your palms brushed over your shoulders and sides.

You shot the prince a glare. Giving up trying to get your fingers to reach the area that you weren’t flexible enough to reach. “I don’t know, maybe you should just make me let you.”

Hezirus’ eye roll was followed with an exaggerated roll of his head, and a groan of irritation. “I merely made you drink water. It would have been more cruel of me to let you starve at that table.” Hezirus stood and made his way over to you. You had somehow moved away from him so much that your back hit the side of the pool. And Hezirus approached until he was directly in front of you. You don’t remember him being so tall. Towering over you with his wings creating a shadow around you. Like he was deliberately trying to crowd you.

A chill ran up your spine. Despite the warm water that surrounded you.

“And are you cruel?” You asked. Your voice felt too quiet against the racing pulse in your ears. Your heart pounded and you wanted nothing more than to avert your gaze from the fixing gaze of the prince..

“I can be if you want me too.” Hezirus said. Leaning so close that you could see flecks of gold in those pretty bronze eyes. “But you’d enjoy our time together less if I was. Now, do you want me to scrub your back?” He offered his hand out to you. Tilting his head in a way that a stray strand of brown hair tumbled from the bun.

You blinked and suddenly the shadows were gone and the Hezirus standing in front of you watched you with a gentle smile. Your heart calmed and you released the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“O-Ok…but nothing cheeky. Just…Just my back.” You said. Forcing your eyes to narrow, despite the warning bells that were sounding in your head.

“Nothing cheeky.” Hezirus repeated. And he twirled his fingers, gesturing for you to turn and rest against the edge of the pool. Which you did. A little hesitantly. But you followed the unspoken order and laid your arms over the side of the pond. The moss was cool under your heated skin and the rock that was pressed against your stomach felt rough against your skin. But you forced yourself to relax. Holding back the flinch that attempted to jerk you away from the hands that brushed along your spine.

Hezirus was gentle. His fingertips felt like the ghost of a breeze against your skin. And as his palm pressed against your back, you felt a weird sensation spread over your skin.

“It’s just soap.” Hezirus explained as you tried to look at what was in his hands. The prince titled his hand up so you could sniff the substance. A simple white bar of soap that smelled strongly of honey and…some other sweet scent. “It’s made from the sap of a tree that grows only in the groves of my estate.” The prince explained when he saw your quizzical look. “When in its natural state, it can burn through fabric and sting the skin. But refine it and it is better than any moisturizer I know. And the smell is one of my favorite scents.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. Of course he would lather you up in a smell he liked. “It’s not going to affect me differently?” You asked. “You know, because I’m human?”

“I’m going off the assumption that if any of the people in these lands can use it, humans can as well.” Hezirus replied. When one hand circled your skin with soap, sudsing the entirety of your back in white bubbles, the other massaged and kneaded. You felt the tension in your spine release and even a knot in your shoulder give way under the prince’s touch.

But as you asked, his hands never went any further than your back. Perhaps teasing your sides and dipped under your lower back. But they never found purchase or strayed for too long.

Eventually, you were so relaxed that you laid your head on your arms. Your eyes half closed as you lost yourself to the gentle pampering. Hezirus’ hands cupped water over your back to wash away the soap before returning to spread another layer of bubbles.

At some point, you knew this was going on for longer than it needed to. But it wasn’t until the prince huffed irritably that you sat up and turned to look at him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked. Your voice almost slurred, you were so relaxed.

“Unless you allow me to wash the rest of you, the smell is going to stay.” Hezirus sighed. Pouting as he looked you over. “Let me wash the rest of you.”

“Absolutely not.” You said. Feeling more alert now you were standing again. “I said nothing cheeky.”

A grimace flashed over Hezirus’ expression but before you could properly assume his reaction, it was replaced by a look of exasperation. “I won’t do anything cheeky. I just want you to stop smelling like Maahes.”

You crossed your arms over your bare breasts and shook your head. “Either you let me do it or I’ll stay smelling like your friend.” You opened your palm for him and wiggled your fingers.

The prince scoffed, as if you had offended him. But curled his lips in a distasteful grunt and slapped the soap into your waiting hand. “Fine. Be quick about it.”

You smiled and nodded. And immediately started to run the bar along your arms and across your chest. Then turned your body around so Hezirus’ gaze didn’t leave heat marks on your breasts as the bubbles started to form over your nipples. He laughed but said and did nothing about it.

You washed yourself twice. Once apparently wasn’t enough for Hezirus. “You’re not washing yourself correctly. Just let me do it.”

You moved away when he tried to take the soap from you. You saw anger flash in his eyes but thankfully Hezirus’ words remained free of an order. “Gods, you’re stubborn.” He snapped.

After some time, the prince seemed satisfied enough that he allowed you to relax again in the pool. But your floating around and exploring the gardens circling the water was soon cut short.

Hezirus left the bath with a cascade of water following him from his wings. He dragged what seemed like half the pond out onto the moss covered ground as he walked over to the rack of towels and grabbed a large plush one.

Your eyes must have strayed for a touch too long because he turned sharply, catching you staring at the muscles of his back stretch and flex with every twitch of his feathered limbs.

“Beautiful aren’t they?” Hezirus said, smiling when your eyes darted to the ground. But you then looked back up at him as he stretched out the left wing to its full extent. Even when wet, the feathers gleamed in the bright sunlight that streamed through the yellow leaves. Flecks of gold twinkled like stars throughout the deep brown tone of his feathers.

Yes, they were beautiful. He was beautiful. In a way that seems unnaturally so. But you placed that uneasiness that came from looking at him for too long down to his nature. A Fae. Or at least a creature your mind was perceiving as a threat.

Something in you still screamed at you to run and hide. And those voices heightened when Hezirus lowered his wing, turning to you with one of his beautiful smirks. “Dry them for me.” He said, the tone bordering a command but the order didn’t stick. You could tell he was leaving it as a suggestion, so the magic didn’t take hold of you.

You glared at him, but found yourself moving through the water towards him as he wrapped the towel around his waist before fully turning to you. “You could say please.” You mumbled. Heaving your relaxed body out of the pool to join Hezirus by the towel rack.

“I prefer to hear ‘please’ in other contexts.” Hezirus replied. Shifting through various jars of leaves and ground powder on one of the carts before finding what he wanted and scooped a small teaspoon of it into a cup. “It would sound better on your lips, anyway.”

You stared at him. Your mind stumbled as you tried to come up with a retort, but ultimately failed to do so. Your thoughts are too flustered to find something coherent to say back. Hezirus didn’t seem to notice. He poured steaming hot water from a porcelain kettle into a cup and stirred the contents. The clear liquid turned brown and the scent of strong tea filled your nose.

“Grab a towel and start drying. Be sure not to crinkle a single feather.” Hezirus said. Sipping on the scalding hot drink. Smacking his lips and turning back to the cart to place a sugar cube into the cup. “And please, feel free to get cheeky.”

Your cheeks burned but you nodded. Sensing the threat behind the ‘suggestion’ if you didn’t do as you were told right away. Grabbing two plush towels from the rack, you wrapped one around your body and made sure it was secure enough that it wouldn’t fall while you were moving. And then moved up behind Hezirus as he flexed and his wings fanned open. Water dripped from the tips of each feather. But the moss soaked up the escaping liquid. Leaving your feet only damp against the soft ground, rather than standing in a puddle of water.

You looked up at the lord’s wings and pouted a little. There was so much real estate to dry. You would probably go through ten towels before he was dry.

“A problem?” Hezirus asked. Tilting his head so he could glance at you over his shoulder.

“I’m just trying to figure out where to start.” You told him, somewhat truthfully. You were also fighting the urge to reach out and touch his wings.

“My servants usually begin by drying the feathers by my shoulders and work inwards. From the tip of the wings down.” Hezirus explained. And it shocked you a little by how genuine he sounded. Like he was actually trying to help and not give a bit of cheek to your hesitance.

You nodded and did as he said. Placing the towel between the blades of his wings, against his skin, and started to wipe. His back felt like you were wiping down a rock wall. Smooth and hard against the palm of your hand under the soft fabric of the towel. And his feathers felt like shards of glass. The fine edges caught on the plush material of the towel. And you started to get frustrated with pulling the towel off the pin-needle threads of his feathers. It slowed you and eventually you had to discard the shredded remains of the first towel for another. But you still dabbed the feathers with as much care as you could. The strange, hard make of these feathers still felt fragile. Under your fingers, it felt like you could squeeze them and they’d shatter like a thin panel of glass.

Eventually, your arms started to ache. You were halfway done with the left wing and on your fourth towel since the others kept catching or became too wet for you to use. But it was taking you a long time to finish this task. By the time you got to the next wing, it probably would be dry.

Hezirus didn’t seem to mind how long it was taking you. He made himself another cup of hot tea and seemed content to hum along with the music that wafted through the baths. Occasionally, when your hand slipped and your fingers met the smooth, sharp lines of his feathers, he’d stop and glance at you. The first time this happened, you feared you had sliced your hand open. But your skin was left unmarked. Only his feather was damaged. Which you quickly smoothed down and ensured the rachis (the very thin base of the feather) hadn’t snapped under your touch. You kept your frustration and discomfort in check so you didn’t hurry and make a mistake. But there was so much to dry out.

And then you had to do the undersides of each wing as well! Which was a very intense experience. Not because anything was different, but Hezirus’ gaze was fixed on you the entire time. Over the lip of his cup when he sipped on his tea. Or when his head tilted, smirking when you had to readjust your towel when it started to slip.

You ignored him as much as you could. Keeping your eyes fixed on the feathers you were carefully drying.

An hour seemed to go by before you finally completed drying each wing. Your arms felt like jelly and in the heat of the room, you were sweating a little. Hezirus stretched his wings and curled one around himself so his fingers could glide over a few feathers. Testing your work.

“You’ll get better at it.” He said in amusement when his fingers came back with the smallest amount of moisture on his skin. “But next, you’ll need to oil them.”

“Oil them?” You huffed. Your arms, that had started to regain strength, gave a promising ache at the thought of another strenuous task. You followed Hezirus through another set of doors that led into, what you could only describe as, a fitting room. There were many shelves and dressers around the room. Mirrors lined the walls and a short stage was placed in front of the right hand wall. Obviously where Hezirus would stand to get fitted or stare at himself in each outfit.

Hezirus led you over to a large vanity with a massive round mirror. And Hezirus sat in the plush cushioned stool in front of the vanity, handing you a crystal bottle. The contents were clear with a slight shimmer when you tilted the bottle and the light trickled through the thick substance inside.

“You will only need a small amount for each wing. Too much and my feathers will be too heavy to lift me.” Hezirus explained, reaching into a drawer of the vanity and removed a silken hand-towel. Then grabbed a fine toothed comb with white teeth from the vanity top. Handing both to you before looking at you through the reflection of the mirror. “A little bit on the cloth, then as you spread it over my feathers, run the comb through the threads.”

“And what does this do?” You asked, popping the lid off the crystal bottle and dropping a small ball of oil onto the cloth. You then placed the bottle at your feet and moved closer to Hezirus. You followed your previous work and started running the cloth over the feathers nearest to his shoulder blades. Running the material down and the comb followed behind it. Sliding between the feather’s threads like a hot knife through butter. It gave the feathers a brilliant sheen and a nice aroma started to fill your nose.

“It makes my feathers look pretty.” Hezirus said simply. Watching you work over his shoulder. His wings were fanned out but relaxed. The longer feathers on the bottom of his wings curled as they rested against the marble flooring. You had a thought to say something, to warn Hezirus of crinkling the beautiful feathers. But his question scattered your thoughts, “What was it like falling through the fairy circle? Did it hurt?”

You thought back to when you tumbled through the darkness and cold. The harsh iron smell that welcomed you as your body free-fell through a vortex of freezing wind. You don’t remember it hurting. And you said as much. “It happened rather quickly. To be honest, I was drunk at the time, so if anything amazing or terrifying happened, I didn’t notice it.”

Hezirus hummed thoughtfully. His left wing twitched as the comb slipped and scratched the skin beneath the glossy feathers. You muttered an apology. Catching the small glare from the lord through the mirror. “Before the rings were outlawed, humans would come through battered and broken. Some even dead. You were lucky.”

You didn’t feel lucky. But you guessed there could be worse fates than combing oil into an other-worldly being's wings. “Why were they outlawed?” You asked. Though you could probably make a few good guesses.

“The new Queen disliked the use of human pawns in our wars.” Hezirus said. There was no judgment in his voice, only facts. Like he was reading it out of a book. “Some of the courts in our realm bred humans to fight against their enemies. Your kind are easier to grow and train than the long maturity of Fae warriors. You could never hold a flame to a trained elf or Fae lordling. But your numbers and stubbornness are nothing to scoff at. That, and she didn’t like how much mortal blood was running through her subjects.”

Your work stalled for a moment as you took in this information. But you quickly started moving the comb and cloth again when Heazirus shuffled his wings impatiently. “But Jackal had one open.”

“I doubt even he knew it was still active,” Hezirus said. His eyes searched your face for something. Horror? Disgust? But he only found silent concentration as you tried not to snag the comb on his skin again. “You haven’t asked why I have so many in my manor.”

“I don’t think I need to know.” You replied with a half shrug. Moving a step along his wing so you could start on the next section. “I could guess, I’m sure. But I think it would only horrify me.”

“Guess.” Hezirus smiled a vicious, almost hungry, type of smile. “I doubt you can guess correctly.”

It was your turn to glare at the lord over his shoulder. “I’d rather keep the rest of my sanity intact, thanks. I’m still trying to come to terms that I’m not having a really weird drunken dream. That feels very real.” Your fingers brushed over the feathers again. Feeling the sharpness of their edges before wiping the cloth over them, cleaning any smudge you might have left behind.

“You think you’re dreaming?” Hezirus asked. The smile faded into one that was more casual. Less predatory. “Is it common for you to have dreams that seem so real you question them?”

“Sometimes.” You replied. “I once had a nightmare that had me think something was in my house. Not a person, but a creature. Another time, I could taste the sweetness of a treat I was eating while dreaming. Made me very hungry when I woke up.”

Hezirus chuckled. A proper, light-hearted laugh that made his wings shift against the cloth. “What was the treat?”

You attempted to remember. But you couldn’t. You only recalled waking up confused and the memory of a flavor on your tongue.

And when you said this, Hezirus looked confused. “You don’t remember your dreams?”

“It depends.” You said. Moving along his wing, Hezirus stretched the limb as much as you needed to continue your work. “Nightmares are easier for me to remember. But I think that’s because the mind wants to remember it for future survivability. Even if it is my mind making them up and they’re not real. Dreams scatter the moment I open my eyes. It’s like grasping at floating specks of dust. The more you try to catch them, the more they evade your hands.”

Hezirus looked deep in thought as you combed through his feathers in silence. You completed the first wing and stepped over to the other, continuing the motions. This felt a lot easier than drying him.

“We don’t dream.” Hezirus said suddenly. “Some of us have prophecies when we sleep. But that’s linked to a power very few have. I’ve heard Maahes waking up, roaring at unknown voices. I doubt Jackal even sleeps. But I didn’t know humans could dream.”

It was your turn to glance at Hezirus in puzzlement. “You don’t dream?” Hezirus shook his head. “I suppose, a few humans don’t either. Or maybe, they do but they’re gone before they wake up. I don’t think you’re missing out on much. Some of the nightmares I’ve had are…wild…”

Hezirus’ brow grew faint lines as he stared at himself in the mirror. Deep in thought. You allowed the silence to grow between you. Concentrating on the task at hand. Even when you stood in front of him, polishing and combing the undersides of his wings, Hezirus continued to stare at nothing. As if he was trying to remember if he had ever dreamed of something before.

Then his eyes slid to you. Contemplating. “What causes your nightmares?”

You shrugged again. “Lots of things. Past trauma. Stress. I once watched a movie that made me dream of monsters in the dark.”

His wings shifted and you paused your combing to let Hezirus get comfortable. He then said, “Would you expect my home to visit you in your nightmares?”

You turned to look at him. Surprised by the question. “Oh, um…I don’t think so. Don’t get me wrong, I’m freaking out a little about all this. And Maahes definitely left an impression. But the dungeons might be the worst part so far. Or maybe the shadow things Jackal has. I don’t know. There’s a lot going on.” You returned to preening him and Hezirus fell quiet again.

You worked until each feather gleamed like polished glass. And Hezirus stood. His wing curled around himself so he could inspect your handiwork. You were surprised when he smiled and his wings tucked themselves tightly against his spine. “Not half bad. With practice, your hands will move more quickly. And I won’t be sitting here for hours while you shred my flesh apart.” He said. And you replied by rolling your eyes. Returning the items in your hands to the vanity and drawers.

“If I’m so bad at it, why don’t you get someone else to do it?” You asked. Watching the lord as he went to a dresser and opened it. Revealing a collection of clothes hanging on silver hookers. They were arranged in various shades of red and gold. And when Hezirus opened another cupboard, those were aligned in tones of blue and green.

“How else are you going to improve your skills?” Hezirus replied. His slender fingers delicately sliding down the hem of a gorgeous sapphire coat. “If you are to be my favored pet, I want you to do more than sit around my feet and look pretty.”

You pouted at his words. “Don’t you have servants that could do a much better job?”

“Of course. But none are as fun to play with as you. They don’t bite back. They’re so afraid to make a mistake that it takes longer sometimes for them to pamper my wings.”

Hezirus shifted back to the first dresser and removed a beautiful robe of autumn red and shimmering gold details. You averted your eyes as the towel dropped from around his waist. You felt him glance at you, but you didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking at the beautiful body in front of you.

Beautiful tanned skin, chiseled in a way that would put some Greek statues to shame.

When you saw the red and gold stop shifting in the corner of your eye, you turned your attention back to Hezirus. Who reached up to his hair and pulled a single pin from the bun. And a silky cascade of brown hair tumbled down over his shoulders. Perfectly untangled, as if he had already put a comb through it as it fell from the pin.

“Now, you my sweet thing, need something spectacular to wear.” Hezirus beamed as he turned to you. “We have a big day of sitting around listening to very old nobles talk. So, I need you to look stunning enough for me to distract myself when I get bored.”

You gawked at him. Trying to form a question, but having too many in your mind to properly make one, as he herded you into another room. His wing acted as a barrier behind you so you were forced to walk next to him.

Through another door, was a room smaller than the first fitting room. But very similar in layout. But here, instead of dressers and ranks of clothes, there were fabrics and materials on rollers. Stacked on top of the other to the ceiling. And there was a person here. A very tall, slender being with four arms and a face that reminded you of a praying mantis. But they looked human. Or…human-like.

When you entered, their long fingernails clicked excitedly and they bowed so low that their pointed chin almost touched the ground. “My Lord, what brings you in here? Are your robes not suitable?” Worry coloured the being’s voice. But Hezirus shook his head, waving away the creature’s concern.

“No, no, your clothes are fitted well, as always. But, I need something for my new pet.” The wing against your back pushed you forward. The strength behind it had you stumbling a few steps until you were standing directly under the chin of the being with too many arms. “Something that catches a gaze but keeps them wondering. Thin but modest.”

The being in front of you tilted its head and your throat tightened as two abnormally white eyes peered down at you. Your skin crawled as its gaze filtered over your body with precise concentration.

“Accessories?” The being asked. And Hezirus thought it over for a moment, but shook his head.

“No. She’s pretty enough without baubles and trinkets distracting the eye.” There wasn’t a flash of a smirk or a teasing stare that you could imagine would come with a sentence like that. And something about the genuine look in the lord’s eye that had your chest warming.

“Very well. Step here.” The being instructed with a wave of two hands to a small platform in front of a corner of mirrors. You hesitantly did as you were told. Staring at four versions of yourself at different angles.

Then, before you could protest, the towel was ripped from your body and discarded across the room. You yelped as the cool air bit at your skin and when you tried to cover yourself up, the being hissed like an angry snake. “Stay still.” Bony fingers wrapped around your wrist and your hand was yanked away from your chest. The harsh touch made you grimace. But the being’s hand quickly disappeared when a growl tore through the room.

You looked at Hezirus’ reflection from the mirror. His eyes were tearing into the creature by your side, the bronze now molten and bubbling with a restrained anger as the creature cowered at your ankles. You heard it whimper. And you didn’t blame it. Though the glare wasn’t set on you, the heat from the lord’s eyes was enough to sizzle your own skin just being in proximity of the target. “Forgive me, Lord.” The being chittered pathetically. “I only-”

“Bruise her and I will take an arm.” Hezirus warned it. Then the anger faded as quickly as it sparked. And the creature stood straight again. Its hands were now careful and light on your skin as it started taking measurements.

Fabric was pressed against your skin. Colors were matched to the tone of your complexion. All at the nod or shake of Hezirus’ head. And when Hezirus liked a color, or the feel of a material against your skin, the creature started to stitch. Skirts were placed around your waist and fabric wrapped around your bosom. Tightly enough that they were perked higher than they normally would. Giving them more volume. Almost to the point that your chest looked like it was going to jump out of the dress that was developing around your body.

The dress was almost an exact replica of the one Jackal had you dressed up in for Maahes. However, the material didn’t sparkle and was thicker…barely. The shape of your body was revealed only by the tight confines of the outfit. A deep ‘V’ revealed the even deeper crevasse of your breasts. It was gentle on your skin. It was unlike anything you’ve touched before. And the stitching that held it all together created gentle swirls, giving a delicate shape to your hips and thighs.

When the creature was done, you felt like a doll put on display for Hezirus to inspect. And he did so thoroughly. “Are you comfortable?” Hezirus asked. His fingers sliding along your hips. He didn’t comment when you pulled away from his touch. Glaring at him.

“I doubt you’ll let me put on a jacket?” You asked. And when Hezirus shook his head with a teasing smirk, you shrugged. “It’s fine.” More than fine. This dress looked like it cost more than you could afford in a lifetime. And when you looked at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t deny how goddamn gorgeous you looked in it.

“Good. Because you’ll be sitting in it for the rest of the day.” Hezirus said. And with a gesture of his hand, the being beside him presented you with slippers. Silk and soft soles welcomed your feet as the being carefully slipped them on.

Another being was summoned to the first room and Hezirus had you sit in the vanity chair. The woman, a beautiful rosy cheeked elf, her pointed ears poked through neat strands of blonde hair, stared in shock as Hezirus asked her to do your hair. You weren’t sure if it was because you were sitting in a seat obviously reserved from Hezirus, or because you were human, but the elf’s hands were hesitant on your hair. Until Hezirus barked an order for her to hurry up.

Your hair was combed and made to shine. A pin was slipped between the strands, a beautiful piece of rubies and watery pink stones. Again, something you could never afford. Something that Hezirus was placing on you as if it was normal.

Once your hair was to his liking, Hezirus dismissed the elf and you followed him out of the room and into the neverending corridors of his estate.

You passed windows that overlooked the front of the manor and saw a large crowd gathering there. Your eyes widened when you noticed the line continued through the gardens and out past the estate gates. “Are they all here to see you?” You asked. Hurrying to catch up with Hezirus’ long strides.

He nodded. “Even escaping to my holiday home doesn’t allow me to evade my responsibilities. I’m sure some are even here to see you. The nosy vultures that they are.”

You swallowed the ball that was growing in your throat. And tried to speak without the unease flowing through your words. “They won’t…try anything would they?”

Hezirus laughed. But it wasn’t light or playful, it was cruel. Vicious. “They can definitely try. But as a guest in my home, any slight against you would be a slight against me. They’ll gawk and slobber at you. But no, my dear pet, none will touch you. You have my word.”

That sharp iron smell hit your nose and you expected something to happen. But nothing did. Your legs and arms moved as you wished and you didn’t see anything change as magic flowed around you. You looked at Hezirus and he merely smiled at you. Your silent question, unanswered.

You followed Hezirus into a throne room. A vast room of polished tiles, hanging tapestries and a single carpet that rolled in the center of it all. From the gold doors that were closed, to the throne of carved wood, stone and metal that sat at the opposite end. The throne was magnificent, but simple. And as you got closer, you noticed the intricate designs of leaves carved into each different material.

Then there was the seat next to it. A simple, low to the ground stool that was large enough for you to sit on and even curl your legs under yourself. The cushion was deep green and looked comfortable. But next to the throne, it looked like a pet bed.

“Sit.” The Fae Lord said. Again, not an order. An offering of comfort. And despite yourself, your nose curled a little at the thought of what this was leading to.

“I’m not a dog.” You spat and Hezirus’ eyes twinkled.

“Would you rather sit on my lap? There’s nowhere else to sit.” Hezirus replied. Seating himself on the throne and kicking an ankle over his knee. The robe flowed over him like a red blanket in a regal display of power. A crown of gold vines and roots sat atop his head. You don’t remember ever seeing him put that on.

You eyed the nook of his lap with disdain and slumped down on the stool. His chuckle echoed through the throne room.

The same elf from before approached you and started fiddling with your dress until it pooled around your ankles elegantly. You found yourself straightening your back as two guards, strapped in armor, also stepped closer to the throne. To their lord.

And the elf girl quickly retreated from your side when Hezirus waved his hand and the gold doors slowly opened.

You caught sight of many faces and bodies pushing to be first through the door. You almost laughed at the polite scramble of the two at the front of the pack as they tried to beat each to Hezirus’ feet. If they weren’t trying to hold their heads high and feign boredom, you were sure they’d be sprinting to beat the other to the throne.

“My Lord,” The one on the right rushed to greet the Fae Lord first. Much to the disgruntled glare of the other. Who fell silent and stepped back. Obviously having lost whatever race was happening between them. “I hope your morning has been pleasant. I see you have a new pet, congratulations.”

The man’s eyes flickered to you. And your whole body tensed with pins and needles as an unworldly blue gaze settled on you. A hunger blazed through the stranger and your pulse stuttered with a spike of nervousness, before settling as the man turned back to the lord beside you.

Hezirus tilted his head in a polite greeting. “Welcome. Make this quick, there is quite the line behind you.”

“Yes, yes, let me start off with the important query I come to you today.”

You grew bored incredibly quickly. You sat beside Hezirus while what seemed like hundreds of people came to ask him questions or ask permission. Once or twice, a person came to his attention and offered an alliance between houses. Something about a person in Hezirus’ court that would be a fine match for the person’s offspring. Hezirus seemed disinterested in it all. But spoke politely and firmly. His words carried authority, and none challenged it.

As much as the people stared at their lord, you were centered with quite a few curious and hungry eyes. Hezirus wasn’t kidding when people would slobber in your direction. You noticed some beast-like persons wiping their lips after staring at you for too long. Others snickered. Some sneered in a way that made your blood turn cold. Frozen with fear.

When these people came forth, Hezirus shifted and his hand casually drooped over the arm of the throne. His fingers brushed over your shoulder, sometimes playing with a curl of your hair, and you felt a calm wash over you. The scent of iron and fresh air following the sensation. When this happened, those who had cruel eyes that drank you in, turned away and hissed. As if burned.

Hours passed and your eyes wandered from strange faces and lust-full gazes, to inspect the room around you. You counted twenty tapestries. Each with their own design and colors. Houses, maybe. Courts of royalty in this strange world?

Then you noticed that the tiles on the floor had a decorated outline to them. And weren’t just colored shards of greens and browns and golds. A forest of sharp leaves and elegant flowing roots. Strange animals bounded between ferns and colorful flowers. You busied yourself with inspecting these floors, until Hezirus tensed beside you and his hand disappeared from your arm. Leaving warm tingles as his back straightened.

You moved your attention to the person in front of you. They looked similar to the guards that were positioned on either side of Hezirus’ throne. But this one was in green, rather than gold and brown. You hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation, but their pale eyes flicked to you. “You know what will happen when the Queen finds out about it.” It took you a moment to realize who the person spoke about. You. “Harboring humans is outlawed. Your pet will need to be sent home or killed, if you wish to avoid any punishment from her majesty.”

You risked a glance at Hezirus. And almost wished you hadn’t. The sheer anger in his eyes had his pupils blown wide and his knuckles white on the arms of his chair. You glimpsed talons sneak out from his human-like nails. “The human is under my protection until I find her a way home.” Hezirus replied. His calm voice contrasted the expression that painted his face. “I am searching for the cause of her coming here. Your Queen has no need to send a reminder of her laws. I know them well. Since I helped write them.”

Surprise riddled through you. And a wave of murmuring washed through the crowd behind the messenger. Who didn’t look convinced. “You prance it around like a prized horse and expect me to believe you are not…using her.”

Hezirus’ talons scratched at an imaginary imperfection on his throne as he replied. “Would your Queen rather I lock her up? Forget about her in the cold cells until I can shove her back to her realm? Keeping her fed, clean, clothed and comfortable is my priority. She is my guest here. Not a prisoner. Not a caged beast I found in the forest. A guest.”

Something about the word and how Hezirus said it carried more weight than you understood. And the messenger’s eyes narrowed in on you for a moment before he bowed. “Very well. I will inform my Queen of your intent. But, my Lord, know that she is watching you. If this goes on for too long or it disappears-”

“She,” Hezirus hissed. “Will not leave this estate unless it is to go back to her realm.”

As if that’s all he needed to hear, the messenger bowed again and left. The crowd watched him leave, continuing to mutter amongst themselves as Hezirus relaxed. His hand returned to lightly touch your shoulder. And you didn’t lean away from his fingers as they drew circles on your skin. Even if the talons left red lines instead of warm goosebumps.

Late in the afternoon, when the sun started to dip and shadows stretched over the estate, Hezirus finally stood. The room bowed to their retreating lord. You hurried after him. Taking a glance in your direction as a signal for you to come with him.

His wings shifted as he rolled his shoulders. Stretching and groaning as the doors behind you both closed. “I couldn’t take it anymore.” Hezirus scoffed. Continuing down the corridor, with you trailing behind his wings. “Not one had anything interesting to say. All demands and no compromises. At least some had some news of the lands on the outskirts of the forest. But still nothing interesting. What do they think drabbling to me will get them in return?”

You let Hezirus rant. Your legs were just happy to be moving again. You had been shifting restlessly on your stool all day. Unable to find another comfortable position until you were leaning against the throne and your legs sprawled out beside you. The elf girl had come out each time and shifted your skirts so they sat elegantly around you. Regardless of how you sat. Hezirus had taken the new position to reach new skin. Anytime they dipped lower than your collarbone, you shifted, and his fingers returned to your arms or brushed his knuckles along your jawline. Your skin itched from the claws he still hadn’t retracted. The lines on your skin weren’t harmful or permanent, already fading now he had left you alone. But the slight irritation made you long to bathe.

“Is it like that every day?” You asked. Your dress flowing around your legs, as light as a cloud.

“Not every day.” Hezirus sighed. Slowing just enough to let you catch up and walk next to him. “I offer my attention to them every so often so the nobles don’t get antsy. They swarmed here to see you. The news of your arrival left my estate quicker than I anticipated.”

“Did you mean it?” You asked. Lifting the dress a little so you could climb the stairs he took unhindered. “When you said you are looking for a way to send me back?”

“Yes.” Hezirus said. And you felt the glowing light of hope and relief flood through you. “You can’t stay here forever. As much as I would want that. But the Queen’s laws dictate any human that comes here, regardless of free will or otherwise, is to be sent home right away or killed. To stop any…procreation and abuse against your kind.”

“You said you helped write them, the laws.” You asked. And Hezirus nodded.

“As much as I hunger to devour you, my sweet flower, I can see the damage that it could cause if a human continued to stay in my court. The same damage I knew would unfold if those laws weren't set. Eventually, I could see your kind breaking through to our world and starting a revolution. Blood would be spilled on both sides. It wasn’t worth the risk, in my opinion. For sex and blinding pleasure. Or fodder for wars that are needless and proud.”

You nodded. Stunned, but understanding of his position. “It’s just surprising…” You said.

“Because I play with you so much that it makes me seem predatory?” Hezirus asked. And you nodded, not bothering to lie to him. He laughed softly. “Your kind never truly understood the allure you possess. You always tried to use it, and sometimes it would work, but it would get them killed more times than not. You’re like…catnip to Fae.”

“Why?” You asked. And Hezirus shrugged.

“I’ve found it to be a manner of things.” Hezirus led you into a dining room. Not the same one you first dined with Hezirus at, but very similar. It was on a higher level of the estate and the windows overlooked a garden of color. “Your blood, rich and untouched by magic, calls to some of us to be devoured. Though, many of us consider humans to be impure and toxic to consume, something about your blood calls to them. It could be a trace of Fae lingers in an ancient ancestor, passed down to an unsuspecting human. And it yearns to be with Fae-kind. Another reason is the strange obsession that grows in us when we bed a human. It has baffled my kind for centuries why we get such delicious pleasure from you. But that is the main reason. Once you lay with a human, you start to crave it.”

“We’re nothing but sex slaves in your eyes.” You said a little bitterly and Hezirus shrugged. Seating himself at the head of the table and gesturing for you to join him on his right side.

“Lust and love were commonly mistaken back then.” Hezirus explained. Leaning on his elbows that sat on the smooth surface of the dining table. “I had a friend that followed her human lover into their realm. I felt her life smolder out after some years. Consumed by the smog that plagues your world. It’s a dangerous thing, this…obsession. It’s another reason why the Queen had your kind banished from our realm. So fairies, fae and all in between are saved from the cruel fate of being consumed by a human’s allure.”

“But…we’re just…”

“Human. Yes, you are. And that alone has killed more of us than you can imagine.” Hezirus held your gaze until you tore yourself from those beautiful bronze eyes. “I have Jackal looking into how and why the ring brought you here. He has assured me that the ring had been disarmed when I ordered it. So, a mystery of why it flared to life when you stepped into the circle, is being investigated. The magic needed to take you back is dangerous. Since those traps were always a one way ticket to a cell and chains. But until then, I don’t want you to leave the estate. The Queen would find it easier to destroy you, than risk someone in my court using the portal to sneak more of you here.”

“She’d really just…kill me?”

“For the safety of her people and the forgotten truce between our worlds, yes. She’d burn you and forget about it an hour later.” Food was brought out and placed in front of you both. A warm dinner with wine to sip that matched the food perfectly.

Your stomach gave a loud rumble at the sight and smell of the food. You didn’t realize how hungry you had been until you started to eat. You waited until you started to feel full before asking the question that was dancing on the edge of your mind.

“Have you fallen to this…obsession with humans before?” You asked. And the amused smirk that curled Hezirus’ lips made you want to take back the question.

“When I was young, yes.” Hezirus replied. “My first human was gifted to me by the same friend that disappeared into your world. ‘You’ll love it,’ she said. ‘It’s like riding a cloud made of ambrosia on a summer’s morning. You’ll never want to leave their body.’ I was…let’s say, doubtful about it. But she was right. By the Hells…she was right.” Hezirus’ eyes clouded for a moment, but when they lifted from his plate to you, he was smiling playfully. “My parents were less than understanding why I spent all my time plowing humans everyday. A mated Lord and Lady had no need for outsourced pleasure. But I was young, they gave me more leverage than I deserved while being a Prince of the Wilds.”

You tilted your head, sensing a cloud of dread behind the lord’s words. “What happened?” You said the words slowly, very carefully. As if you had approached a wild beast and didn’t want to startle it.

Hezirus opened his mouth to answer. Those beautiful bronze eyes searched your face for something. And kept still, seeing the turmoil behind his gaze before he shook his head. “It’s a dark tale. And one of the reasons why I was so heavily involved in the creation of those laws.”

His tone attempted to keep the air light between you two, and something in your mind told you not to push. Or else something bad was going to happen. You merely nodded and finished your plate in peace.

Hezirus made small conversation, despite the heaviness in his gaze. You answered questions about your world. How the lives of humankind have changed over the centuries. What your life was like back there. You answered honestly. Once attempting to lie but Hezirus’ glare set a cold tremble through you and you quickly dropped your words. Giving him the truth about your mundane life.

Once dessert was presented and then eaten, Hezirus then brought you back to the bathing room. You went through the same song and dance as this morning. Hezirus would get too close and you’d shy away, snapping at him. He would laugh and tease you, splashing water at you as he backed away.

“You’re already naked, half the fun has already started.” He had said. Eyes twinkling. And you poked your tongue at him. Snatching the soap from the side of the pool before he could try and start that argument again.

Hezirus had you dry his wings and comb the oil through the feathers once more. When you questioned why he did this twice a day, the lord’s wings twitched hard enough to cause a stir of wind across the dressing room. “I like to be clean.” Was his only answer. And the tone of his voice silenced you for the rest of the task.

Once Hezirus was satisfied with your work, he led you a touch further down from the bathing room and to a pair of doors that looked far too magnificent to just be doors. The entire wooden surface were carvings of forests and battlefields. Creatures and faerie types raged in a battle beneath a canopy of trees. A gorgeous illustration of a winged wolf loomed over it all. Howling up at a sky full of stars and an eclipse in the center. It split down the middle as Hezirus approached the entrance and the doors opened up into a room the size of a house.

It was a lovely decorated room.With a roaring hearth warming the air with a large loveseat in front of it and a stack of books sat on the small table beside the lounge. Paintings filled the creamy walls and the ceiling was a mimicry of a tree’s branches in summer. Sunlight streamed through hundreds of leaves, giving the illusion of light through various shades of green.

Then your eyes fell on the absolute monster of a bed, and your heart sank a little.

This was a bedroom. Hezirus’ bedroom.

“I don’t think…” You started speaking but what were you going to say? It’s not appropriate? You didn’t want to stay here? Anything the lord wanted he very much could have. Did your worries even mean something to him? He brought you here, to his bedroom!

Hezirus strode through the room as if he didn’t hear the fear in your voice. He went to a door beside the large fireplace, hidden from you with your position by the door, and opened it.

“I know better than to force myself on a human.” Hezirus said, expression unreadable as he waved a hand through the open door. “But unless you’d rather sleep in that cold, dark cell, I’m still keeping you close.”

So he could come in later tonight while I’m asleep. I’m within arms reach and-

Hezirus sighed. Seeing your hesitation. “Would it make you feel better if I told you a little truth about myself? A piece of trust to gain trust. I used to be…like that. Used too. Humans were nothing but tools to me. A simple household item that I could use at my leisure. But I learnt my lesson in the power of consent. The brutal consequences of forcing a yes onto someone's lips when everything is screaming no. Your body is safe from me unless you say otherwise. I promise.”

His words were followed by a sting of iron on your nostrils and a cold wind that ripped through the room. You felt something in you seal. Like a lock in your skin that you couldn’t place the location of. The feeling caused a strange tingle to run through you. Enough so that you wrapped your arms around yourself and rub your skin for a bit of comfort.

But you nodded. Still feeling unsure, but anything was better than the cells. You approached Hezirus and peered into the next room. Another bedroom. It wasn’t as big as the first, but still rather spacious. And the bed was large enough that three of you could fit in it and still have room to roll around in. A smaller fireplace flickered and spat. And the room was decorated with a few paintings and shelves, crammed with books. A window looked towards a forest, dark and looming on the edge of the stone wall of the estate.

“To stop any unwarranted visits directly to your room, anything you need, let me know. And I’ll have it delivered to my room.” Hezirus explained. Keeping a respectful distance behind you as you take in the room. “I’ve already had clothes provided for you. They’ll be in the dresser.”

You glanced at the armoire and when you pulled open one of the drawers, you found lacey, thin clothing neatly folded within. You shot Hezirus a glare and he smiled innocently. “I’m going to freeze in these.” You muttered. Pulling a pair of lacey sleepwear from the piles.

“The fire will keep the room warm enough.” Hezirus replied. Leaning against the door, watching you as you inspected more of the clothes. Finding less and less coverage than the last. “Or if you get too cold, you can always share my bed.” You rolled your eyes at the honey and silk in his words. When you shot him another glare, he clicked his tongue. As if irritated. “Well, you can’t hate me for trying.”

You laughed and Hezirus smiled. You picked out a pair of sleepwear with the most material you could find. A simple pair of silk shorts and a top that looked more like a sports bra than a shirt. You tried to ignore Hezirus as he watched you drop the towel from around your body and change. Once you were clothed, Hezirus retreated to his bedroom. Taking a lounging position on the loveseat. His wings draped lazily over the cushions and sides. He almost took up the entire space. But conveniently there was a section for you between the side of the sofa and Hezirus’ side.

“No bedtime oi-” You stopped yourself before saying the word. Because you could imagine Hezirus’ reply if you finished your sentence. And the flash of mischief in his eyes confirmed your hunch. “I mean, no bedtime cleaning routine?”

Hezirus laughed and shook his head. Plucking one of the books from beside the lounge and began to read as he replied. “No, sweet flower, you can relax. I’m sure today was a lot for your adorable head. You can retire if you wish or join me by the fire.”

The warmth from the flames was comforting. The walk from the dressing room to the bedroom, with only your towel, had robbed some of the blissful heat from the baths. The night air had a chill to it. Even just standing by your bedroom door allowed some of the cold to brush along your skin.

Eyeing the very small space, tightly snug up against Hezirus and his wing, you bit you lip and tried to look for any other spot that wasn’t the floor. But there wasn’t anything else to drag over to the fire. You spotted spaces that could have once help a chair or lounge, but they were empty. How inconvenient… “I think I’ll retire.” You said. Glancing back at your room and Hezirus’ smile was soft when you said. “Goodnight, Lord Hezirus.”

“Goodnight, sweet flower. Sleep well.” The bronze of his eyes flickered with reflected flames and your heart thundered in your chest as you closed the door. You thought about locking it. He’d definitely hear it and you doubted it would stop the lord in his own home. But the whispering worry in the back of your head told you to do it anyway. And when you did, the sound echoed like a thunderclap in your room.

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baldursgate3tempobsessed · 11 months

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Hi hi!!! I just found your blog and I love how you wrote Astarion. I have a small request if you're still taking them!

Because of Halsin's one line about how his wildshape is hard to repress I have a headcanon that certain druidic animal forms get triggered by certain emotions. So what if a druid Tav was hurt or scared and got stuck in animal form, and Astarion had to calm them down long enough for them to shift back/get healed

Aww, I like this. But some TW: The reason for them being hurt/scared is fucked and involves dead children. I killed off some NPCs for this one (but they live in the real game I swear!) Also set in Act 2, after he confesses. Just so you know! Don't trigger yourself for this.

There was a reason that Astarion always tried to convince you to not leave him behind at camp. Mostly because it could be dreadfully boring, doing nothing but sitting there waiting for your return. But also because he didn't like being out of the loop. There had been many moments, too many, where he had been the sole reason you were still standing. Whether that be stabbing someone in the back who held a dagger to your throat or being the one to help you back on your feet from the brink of death, Astarion had gotten very good at keeping you alive.

He didn't trust anyone to watch out for you the way he could, a belief that was instantly strengthened when the group came back. With you nowhere to be seen. It was only Halsin and Shawdowheart, beaten and bloodied as they limped their way forward.

The sight of them had Astarion on his feet in an instant, an awful feeling settling in the pit of his stomach as he waited for you to slink out of the tree line to join them. But nothing.

"Where are they?" Astarion asked, his voice loud and fraught enough to cut through the others questions on what happened, "Why isn't Tav with you?"

Neither of them answered, instead they swapped a knowing grimace. The silence was enough for Astarion's blood to go cold, the worst jumping to the forefront of his mind. B-But that couldn't be. The two in front of him wouldn't just leave her to die, would they? He would hope not, otherwise he'd be forced to bleed them both dry. Astarion was so lost in his thoughts he hadn't even realized how heavily he was breathing, how his hands were trembling at the very thought of your being gone. Your corpse just left behind for the wolves in the cursed Shadowlands.

"Astarion, breathe," Halsin said gently, the behemoth of a man suddenly standing in front of him, his hands gently resting on his shoulders, "I know where they are, they're okay. They just... aren't exactly themselves right now, or at least not the version you know."

"If they're okay then why in the hells aren't they here?" Astarion seethed back at him, swatting his touch away before steeping back, "You just left them out there? Alone?"

"It's not that simple," Halsin started, right as Shadowheart piped up, "Karlach is with her. We aren't that incompetent."

"Well considering that our leader is missing, I wouldn't exactly call you capable," Astarion barked back at her, already turning back towards Halsin, "Take me to them. Now."

The venom in his voice would have surprised Astarion himself if he was capable of thinking about anything but you dead in the middle of nowhere. He barely even had the patience for Halsin to get adequate healing, but it was better than having to wait for him to limp the entire way there. He felt antsy and off center for the entire journey, completely foreign emotions taking over him. He didn't care about people like this, for the precise reason that it led to these horrifying moments of uncertainty. He didn't know what he would do without you anymore. He didn't want to ever find out.

It figures that you would go and almost get yourself killed right after he admitted a portion of his feelings to you. And now everything he wished he'd said was invading his every thought.

"Oh come on now, don't make that face! You know me!"

The sound of Karlach's voice was enough to bring him out of his own head. She was up ahead, kneeling next to a small cave opening as she spoke, "For something so cute, you're being a bit of a pisser right now. Aren't you?"

Astarion didn't miss the bodies littering the way between where he stood and the cave, a mix of homely gnolls and dead tieflings, some that he unfortunately recognized from the grove. He didn't take the time to examine them closely, but... he was aware that many looked young. Much, much too young to have died here.

"There they are," Halsin sighed as Karlach cooed at the cave opening, "They've been in there since we stumbled upon all of... this."

"They've gotten less scratchy at the least," Karlach added, standing up with a stretch, her gaze pointedly avoiding the massacre in front of them, "But they won't stop hissing up a storm. I tried to pull them out by the scruff and almost lost a hand, so I'm thinking we may have to wait this one out."

Astarion ignored her as he got closer to the cave, his eyes widening at what he saw. It was you, or at least he was thought it was. He was well-aware of your druidic abilities and he had seen you polymorph into a ferocious beast many, many times. But never like this. No, you always had a human air about you when you shifted, the reality of your true shelf always shining through your eyes, never without perfect control.

But now, you were cowering in your panther form, your eyes daring back and forth, your coat so covered in blood that it nearly looked like you had been swimming in it. You even hissed at the sight of him of all people, your teeth bared as you backed farther against the cave wall, nothing but pure animal fear and rage behind your eyes.

"It can happen sometimes," Halsin explained with a frown, "Tav is very connected with this form, perhaps too connected. Enough so for it to take over when they're particularly distressed. It used to happen to me even, many, many moons ago. It can take hours to change back, maybe even days. And it can be very... difficult to remember your life outside of instincts."

Well wasn't that just fucking awful? Figures there had to be a drawback to such a powerful advantage. But he'd be damned if he'd leave you out here alone for days. And he doubted that the extra audience would help with anything.

"Leave us," Astarion ordered, his eyes still on you, "I'll find a way to bring them back to camp."

Halsin and Karlach exchanged a glance, obviously weary at the idea. Karlach cleared her throat, "Astarion, I know that the two of you are, um, close, but I don't think you can do anything-"

"Watch me," Astarion said, his words petulant even to his own ears. But he meant it. If anyone could help you through whatever this was, it was going to be him, "If I'm not back before the sun rises feel free to look for me. Now leave."

"But she could kill you on accident! And if my best friend had to wake up to that-" Karlach tried to argue, interrupted by Halsin putting a strong hand on her shoulder, "Just because part of them is lost doesn't mean all of them is. Astarion can handle himself."

Astarion was a bit surprised to receive the druid's support, but he wasn't about to argue over it. He nodded at them, "I'll be fine. Now go, I don't think the crowd is helping with their nerves."

Astarion watched them walk away, only relaxing when they were out of sight. It felt like he could finally breathe again. There you were, safe and sound if not a bit... changed. But he could work with that.

Astarion sat cross-legged to the side of the cave entrance, his voice soft but scolding as he spoke, "'I'll be safe Astarion, don't worry about me Astarion, you're such a little overthinker Astarion.' And now look at you, trapped in a cave with a cat's body. Darling, I think it's high time that you start listening to me."

Astarion hadn't been expecting an answer, but the pitiful little chirp you let out brought a smile to his face. He scooted a bit closer to the entrance, careful not to actually cross the threshold as he spoke, "I'm serious Tav, do you know how horrible it was to see them come back without you? I'd say a punishment would be in order, if you weren't too busy giving it to yourself that is."

Another small, dejected noise, but it sounded closer this time. Astarion glanced at the entrance, smiling when he saw you sitting there on all fours, your tail twitching as you peeked outside. Perhaps it wasn't the wisest thing to do but Astarion slowly brought his hand up, hovering it right in your face while praying that you wouldn't take the chance to bite it off, "It seems like you haven't lost the faculty for understanding language yet. Lick my hand if I'm right."

You did, your large sandpaper tongue gliding over his palm before retreating. You looked... different than before. In a good way, but not a whole way.

"That's a good kitty," Astarion praised, laughing at the way the pet name made your brows scrunch up. Perhaps you weren't fully yourself, but enough of you was there for him to know you'd be getting him back for that little quip, "Oh don't look at me like that. You're the full-grown adult in the body of a glorified housecat."

The little growl you let out at that just made him laugh harder, "A very pretty housecat. Does that help my love?"

You didn't answer. Instead you turned with a huff and retreated back into the cave, your demeanor much more relaxed than before. Relaxed enough for Astarion to venture in there after you. It was a small space, just large enough for a panther to lay and a man to sit. You didn't hiss or growl as he settled in, just watched him with sharp eyes.

Astarion didn't like it. You were usually so tactile with him, always finding reasons for touch, even if they were simple. Standing shoulder to shoulder, intertwining your fingers together, hugs and kisses innocent enough to make Astarion melt. Even in your animal form, not touching you just felt... wrong.

But Astarion also wasn't trying to get mauled. He kept his hands to himself, his head cocked as he stared at you, "Are you honestly going to stay all the way over there? We might be here all night darling, you wouldn't want me to be cold would you?"

Perhaps that was manipulative phrasing, but at least it worked. You shuffled closer, resting your head in his lap while staring up at him with those big eyes.

"See?" Astarion cooed down at you, taking the chance to pet your head, "Isn't that better?"

You didn't answer, instead you closed your eyes, a light purr coursing through you. You really did make an adorable panther, even when your fur was crusted with blood and the tiniest bit of gore. Perhaps you didn't smell that best at the moment, but you sure were cute. You fell asleep there, right in his lap, your body finally fully relaxed.

This wasn't exactly how Astarion intended on spending his night, but there were plenty of worse things. Like having the bury the love of his life for example. Or watching a gnoll tear into their corpse. But luckily enough for him that didn't happen. No, he had you with him, safe and sound. Panther or not, he loved you, and one of these days he would get the courage to admit it out loud. Hopefully sooner than later, considering how easily you could be taken from him.

Astarion hadn't planned on falling asleep with you, but you were so warm, and the sound of your happy purring was nearly hypnotic. The next thing he knew he was out, awaking hours later to a dark cave and a different weight set in his lap. But not an unfamiliar one.

Astarion glanced down, breathing out a sigh of relief when it was you back to normal, seemingly shifting in the middle of the night. You were laying in what seemed to be an extremely uncomfortable position, your cute face smooshed against his leg as you slumbered.

"There you are," Astarion murmured, the quiet sound of his voice still enough to jolt you awake. You blinked your eyes open, sitting up with a start as you frantically looked around.

"Hey, hey, calm down. Everything's okay," Astarion said gently, tugging you back to him, "You just had a little... incident. That's all."

You nodded, the memories from the day seemingly hitting you all at once. He could see the tears start to well up in your eyes as you stared at the ground, "I... I remember the tieflings. We found them too late. And I saw one of those things gnawing on... on Silfy. And another on Mattis and I just... lost it."

Oh gods. Astarion didn't exactly have a soft spot for children, but the thought of seeing one of the ones you had saved, eaten alive was horrifying. Even against the things he had seen.

"Come here love," Astarion murmured, holding his arms out; his heart breaking at the look on your face.

You went to him, nearly collapsing in his arms as you cried into his shoulder, "I didn't save them. I- they were right there. And I didn't save them."

"You can't save everyone," Astarion said as he stroked your hair, "Not every life can be your responsibility. It just can't."

"Why not?" You sniffled, looking up at him with tired eyes, "Why does this have to keep happening? Why can't I do something about it?"

"Because the world wasn't made for people like you," Astarion said honestly, "It is cruel and horrific and it doesn't deserve you. But it needs you anyway. It needs someone who cares, despite everything that proves you shouldn't. And that's not fair, but it's true."

Part of him could scarcely believe such words were even his own, let alone that fact that he believed them. But he did. You couldn't save everyone, no. But that didn't stop the fact that those you could mattered. That your kindness and passion for good did mean something, it meant enough to help hundreds of people. And enough to change him. Astarion would never be the same after meeting you. He didn't want to be, but even if he did the change was irrevocable. Because that's just the effect you had on people. And he felt so damned lucky that he was one of them.

You nodded against him as you let all of your tears out, his words meaningful but not enough to stop the pain completely.

But that was okay. Astarion wasn't going anywhere.

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #asks #you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands #tw for kids that do not live #which is not canon #the kids mentioned can very much live in game #but drama #gender neutral tav

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