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#annoying little buggers
missregality · 3 months
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He's got the right mood for fighting cactuars
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Good morning to everyone except the spambots.
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nerdie-faerie · 4 months
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Bought a ginger shot thinking it was gonna be bullshit but I've had a bit of a persistent cold lately, except then I immediately felt better, so now I'm annoyed with myself
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humofnight · 1 year
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tired of ostensibly non-religious institutions including prayer in things
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halinski · 2 years
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Me: i am the smartest depressed piece of shit ever. I got a cat so i dont have to leave the room and go outside and instead can lay on the couch and be a lazy ass and still hav a pet!!!!
Cat: *meows and walks in and out until i give in and follow it outside so we can play fetch with a stick*
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meet Sir Dylan Thomas the Second
I have been blessed
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You stir awake, sighing as you roll over to face your sleeping husband. You sit up, fixing your stretchy shirt over your very swollen belly. You pat Simon’s side. “Si? Si! Si!”
He groans as he wakes up, rolling over and shoving his head into his pillow. “Go back t’ sleep.”
“I want a big mac.”
He groans louder. 
“Please, Si? I’m super hungry. And bubby keeps kicking.”
He sighs, “Look ‘t the time, lovie.”
You almost tear up. 
When he notices the frown on your face, he sighs again, getting up. “Which one is the closest?”
You smile, almost jumping with joy as you lean up to press a million kisses to his cheek. “The one on 42nd.”
He leans down, kissing your belly and your lips before heading off to get dressed. 
He returns 20 minutes later, a bag and 2 drinks in hand. You practically moan at the smell as he hands you the bag. 
“I love you,” you moan as you take a bite of your burger. He chuckles, eating his own. “Bubby loves you too. He’s kicking every time I take a bite.”
“Bet ‘e does.” Simon kisses your belly as you stuff a few fries in your mouth. “Lovie?”
“Yeah?” you ask with a mouth full. 
“Do ya think he’ll like me?”
“For the millionth time, my love, you are nothing like your father. You’re far too kind and too amazing and too sweet. He’s going to love you. Just like I do.”
He chuckles, “Love you too.”
He leans down, kissing your belly. 
“Both of ya annoying little buggers. Always fuckin’ hungry.”
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ri-afan · 9 months
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Me, catching the fly that my cat failed to do: that’s how it’s done
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Of Lions and Mice
Leona Kingscholar x Reader
Reader is intended to be female
Masterlist
Leona was annoyed.
Once again, his golden goody-two-shoes older brother decided to shirk his responsibility of being a father and dump the overexcited, disgustingly bright-eyed crown prince on him for the day. And not only that, it had to be today of all days - a rare day where you were free from picking up Crowleys’ slack, where the loudmouthed, nattering extras that always followed you were otherwise preoccupied (and bribed to bugger off with a bag full of tuna), where he was certain he’ll spend the day in bed with you right next to him. 
But no. Just like with everything else in his miserable existence, his dreams were crushed and he had to spend the day playing caretaker to his nephew instead of wrapped up with you. What’s worse was that, you’d decided to carry the pint-sized load off of his back and gave your undivided attention to the cub when it should have been rightfully his. How he hated that selfless nature of yours, that sweet, caring, gentle nature that would make you look at anyone that wasn’t him with that loving gaze, that would make you brush your fingers through Cheka’s golden orange curls the same way you would Grim’s fur or the stray cats you’d find around campus or any other being instead of his mane. 
He hated just how loving you were, how your eyes could see the beauty in everything.
How, now that it’s late at night, and he’s closed his eyes and pretended to sleep in his attempt to actually get some shut eye and so that the little hairball would quit bothering him but Cheka just continues yapping.
Even in the darkness under his eyelids, he could feel you cast a worried look his way from the spot where his bed sags a little.
“Hey Cheka,” your sweet, dulcet voice (which is currently being used to please his nephew and not sooth him to sleep with the sweet nothings it usually does) pipes up, “how about I tell you a bedtime story from my world?”
“A bedtime story?!” Wow, even with his eyes closed he could see the stars coming out of his nephew's eyes, “yes please!”
Once the little cub has settled into bed, he asks you, “do you know any stories from your world with lions in them?
“Any ones with lions? Hmm, well, I suppose I could tell you about Narnia but I think you might be a bit too young for that and - wait,” you punctuated your words with a snap of your fingers, “I know a short one. There was this man called Aesop who wrote these short stories called fables.”
“What’s a fable?” Cheka asked, his words covered in that innocently curious lilt that all six year olds seemed to have during every occasion Leona wished they wouldn’t - and that was all of them.
You, however, seemed to have much more patience than him, “A story with a moral in them. Like, always be honest, or share, or work together, that sort of thing. I had a book of them when I was younger and I really enjoyed reading them.”
Figures. Of course, the shining beacon of sickeningly polite goodness grew up with such stories. He would’ve teased you for that but he had a child who he’s still trying to convince he was asleep.
“That sounds so cool, Aunty Y/N! Will you tell me more?”
“Of course, I will,” he can hear your smile, “but I’ll tell you them later, okay. Now, it’s time for you to rest.” 
“Okay, Aunty Y/N.”
“Alright so,” you clear your throat, “there was once a lion that lay asleep in his den. A shy little mouse came upon him and in her fright she ran away, only whilst doing so she accidentally ran over his head, waking him up.”
“Oh no,” Cheka gasped, “that lion is going to be so angry if he wakes up.”
Oh, so the little hairball does have a brain after all. 
“You’re right. Furious that he had been woken up, the big lion slammed a paw down on the tiny mouse and grabbed her by the tail. Holding her up, he growled at her,” here you made your voice noticeably deeper, trying to imitate a gruff growl, ““How dare you wake me up! I am the king of beasts and anyone who interrupts my slumber deserves to die! I shall kill you and eat you!””
It took everything within Leona to not burst into laughter at your adorable imitation of a ‘big scary lion’. It’s a voice you’ve used before whenever you tease him, playfully repeating the words his old self would have said to you, and it’s one that he’s rather fond of. 
He loves and respects you, Herbivore, and he’s the first to attest to your formidability and capability - even though you have the annoying tendency to not only blur the line between bravery and reckless stupidity but also play skipping rope with it - but intimidating you are not. 
“This scared the terrified mouse even more. Shaking with fear, she begged for him to let her go,” you make your voice higher at this part, squeaking in a way that oddly suited you, in Leona’s not so humble opinion, ““please, your majesty, I beg of you, please don’t eat me. It was only a mistake and if you let me go I’ll be sure to repay you. If you spare my life one day, I might even save yours.””
“The lion looked at the tiny creature and laughed, amused at how such a small mouse could ever be of use to an animal as powerful as him, “You? Save me? How absurd. You’ve made me laugh and put me in a good mood so I shall be generous and let you go.”
“Thank you, your majesty, thank you,” the mouse squeaked as she was put back on the ground, before scurrying away as fast as fast as her little legs could carry her.”
“Yay, so the mouse is free.” Cheka giggled.
“He is,” you said, “but there’s still more left. A few days later, the lion was prowling around when out of nowhere he was caught in a hunter’s net. Try as he might, he couldn’t get out of it. He tossed and turned, roaring angrily as he struggled to escape.”
“Wait, so now the lion’s in trouble. How’s he going to get out?” Cheka asked in worry. 
“You’ll see. Hearing his cries, the mouse followed the sound, recognising it from the lion he met earlier.
“I have to help him,” she squeaked as she scampered towards him.”
Upon seeing the lion in the net, she said, “hold still your majesty, I’ll get you out!”
And she quickly started to nibble on the ropes with her sharp little teeth, biting until all they broke apart. It wasn’t long until the lion was free.”
“So the mouse saved him. Was it because the lion helped him earlier?”
“It certainly was Cheka. “Thank you, little mouse,” the lion said, “I laughed at you and didn’t think you could ever help me but you saved my life.”
“It was my turn to help you.” The mouse replied, ”never forget that even a creature as small as a mouse can help a lion.”
And that’s the end,” you say.
“Thank you, Auntie Y/N, I really enjoyed that. Do you think the lion and mouse became friends after that?”
“You are very welcome, Cheka. I think they did. They did help each other, after all. Now I think it’s time to go to sleep.”
And once you were sure that the crown prince was asleep, you made your way next to your boyfriend, running your fingers through chestnut locks, “did you enjoy that little story, Leona.”
He opens his eyes to see your endeared smile. Rolling over so that he could wrap his arms around your waist he muses, “it seems awfully familiar don’t you think? A scared little herbivore wakes up a sleeping lion and ends up saving him later.”
“I’ll have you know, Your Highness, that I was never scared of you. Even when you were a rude old brute who threatened to knock out one of my teeth. And I’m certainly not little.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” 
He pulls, letting you flop down on his bed beside him so that he can spoon you.
“Sweet dreams, little mouse,” he kissed your forehead, “I hope you know that I don’t ever intend on letting you go. Not after you helped in ways you could never even imagine.”
And so the lion fell asleep, holding the prey who rescued him from the confinement of his past safely in his arms.
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radio-writes · 1 month
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I Don't Know if I'm Real Without You
— Part 2 of 2 (Read Part 1 here: What is Left of Me Without You)
Synopsis: He didn't love you, but he needed you—that's what he said, at least. He needed you to show him just how deep your devotion to him really was.
Warnings: abusive relationships, power imbalance, some misogyny, heavy manipulation, gaslighting, murder and violence, physical injury to reader, major character death(s), angst
Tags: married, one sided romantic love, Alastor x Reader, female!reader
MDNI
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"Why, just the other day a green fuzzy caught sight of another stiff by the river! Poor green egg went green in the face!" A laugh track followed the voice on the radio.
Alastor sat on the couch as he riffled through his briefcase, making sure he had everything he needed today.
"What poor taste," You commented absentmindedly from behind him. "Is that really any way to start off a Sunday morning?" 
Alastor let out a distracted hum at your words. He hadn't really been paying you much mind. A lazy smile simply played on his face.
Just one body? Seems they missed the other two friends it had in there.
"Well, it takes talent to entertain, my dear. Something these hacks clearly lack," He said casually, waving a hand at the radio's direction. 
"And speaking of stiffs! We've got a fresh one today, folks—" The host's voice was chipper as it came from the radio.
Alastor sat a little straighter, as if on instinct.
"Darling, do you mind fetching my script?" Your husband spoke over the hack radio host. "Seems I might have forgotten it in our bedroom." 
"Not a problem, dear," You replied almost instantaneously. Your hand landed on his shoulder, giving it an affectionate squeeze before you left the room. 
Alastor stood up, cooly making his way towards the radio as he turned the volume down slowly. 
"Glue stuffed in his mouth, chilled off, and absolutely tattered by nails, people! Brutal new body found behind the local—not so secret—juice joint!" The radio continued, but Alastor's smile remained calm despite the gruesome news.
His eyes stayed at the doorway you left through, making sure you had actually gone.
There was no need to sully your little ears with useless chatter like this. You were much more use to him all oblivious and naive, so he'd prefer to keep you that way. 
When the radio host finally finished talking about his the most latest victim, Alastor turned the volume back up to how it was. He made his way back to the couch, hands gathering his script neatly into his hands from the top of his briefcase.
He chuckled to himself before calling out to you. "Never mind, dear! The little bugger was at the bottom of my case this entire time!" 
He wasn't the type to forget these things. He was always so organized, sometimes to a fault.
And you knew that.
And Alastor knew that you knew that.
But he wasn't worried. You'd never doubt him. Whatever pesky little thought you had related to him, you'll just brush off easily.
He'd made sure of that.
Alastor heard you playfully scold him, your soft laughter rung through his home.
"—I guess you can say he really nailed that Chicago overcoat!" The annoying little shit on the radio joked just as you entered the room.
Alastor spared it one quick glare before his sight fell on you once more. You didn't seem to care for the joke much, but your eyes did linger on the dials of the radio for a second too long Alastor thought.
"Does the radio seem a bit louder to you, Al?" You asked him.
Ah, he must have turned it back a tad bit too far.
He looked at you with faux confusion. "'fraid I don't know what you mean, dear. Why would it be louder?" He stood up, closing the briefcase in front of him and straightening out his collar. "But I do have to split now, darling, or the ol' big cheese would have my head."
Your eyes met his warm chestnut ones. Alastor could practically see the way you brushed away your silly concerns in your head, a soft smile once again gracing your lips. 
He knew you were confused as to why his boss supposedly needed him at work on a Sunday.
He knew you wanted to ask why.
He knew that, at least some part of you, didn't fully believe that he was headed off to the radio station. 
If you were smart you'd have listened to it.
But you were his wife. 
So you simply nodded in understanding, moving closer to where Alastor stood. You made to grab for the suit jacket that still hung on his arm but the tall man was quick to pull it high above your reach.
"Not so fast there, darling." He teased, smiling down at you.
"It's cold out, dear. I'll help you put your coat on," You insisted, small, delicate hands reached up for the jacket.
Alastor stepped back from you, briefly tapping his fingertip against your nose. "And who said I was in any hurry to cover up this lovely new shirt my wife got for me?" He teased, snapping the suspenders he wore against the crisp white shirt.
He simply adored it when he made heat color your soft cheeks. He loved seeing proof of his effect on you.
His eyes drifted to the clock behind you, his smile straining just a tiny bit when he realized what time it was.
He'd miss his mark if he wasted any more time here.
"In any case, darling, I really do have to dash," He smiled back at you, already heading towards the door before you could say anything else. "But do keep yourself free, baby. I'll be back before you know it." He shot a wink at you.
He grabbed his hat from the coat rack and plopped it neatly on his head, then he was out the door in a second. 
Alastor let out a short, tired breath.
Sometimes, he did find your love to be a bit tiring. But he supposed, at the moment, it was still worth much more than the hassle it caused him.
He hurriedly strolled down the street, smiling and greeting everyone that passed by him politely. His ego stroked just a little bit with every flustered dame.
He didn't care for any of them, but he never grew tired of knowing the charming effect he had on people.
Alastor tried to clear his head of you as he hopped into a taxi. He laughed as the cabby recognized him almost immediately, but he didn't pay the man any mind as he yapped about how much of a fan he was.
Instead, he found that his thoughts have annoyingly strayed back to you. He's found that you've been so persistently present in his mind lately.
One would think that sounded so romantic, that he was a cold man finally falling for a sweet little thing.
But in reality he was weighing his options.
You've always been so behaved, so meek.
He found you endearing, that much was true.
You were great company, after all. You loved the same music he did, kept up with his dancing, and sang so beautifully along whenever he tickled the ivory keys.
You dressed up to compliment his style, even if it wasn't to your comfort. Smiled at all the wretched people, even as they gossiped behind your back. Perfectly prepared and happily ate every dish he liked, even stranger ones you found hard to stomach.
Because you shaped yourself to be his partner. You did everything and anything that you could to gain his approval.
And that was indeed endearing. The lengths you went to, just to hear a simple praise from him.
Alastor used to wonder if there was ever a limit to it, but as the times flew by he realized you were just too happy to rewrite even your own logic just to stay by his side.
And it was also true that you were a brilliant cover.
As a taken man, there were much less people prying into his life as opposed to when he was an eligible bachelor. And no odd rumors ever spread about him thanks to how behaved you were.
People saw him as soft, gentle, caring. Because a violent, murderous, psycho could never keep a delicate little thing like you as his wife, could he?
Yes, you definitely had your perks. That much he already knew.
But you've been so restless lately. So oddly, insistent on being by his side more. 
He'd tried to talk it out of you. Whispered how he was so lucky that you weren't like other wives. How you trusted him and respected his space. How you didn't nag him like a terrible partner would.
And it worked...for a while.
Until you've been fixated on getting the darn basement door open, at least. Somehow, you had it stuck in your brain that opening that stupid lock would have proved your worth to him.
You've been visiting that mug of a shopkeep at the locksmiths so often that Alastor just simply had to get rid of him already. He returned the useless tools he sold you last time too of course. He didn't quite like others making a fool out of what was his.
Only he could do that.
The cab stopped by a rather classy bar, the driver letting out a low whistle, going on about how they also wished that they could live up the big life.
Alastor tipped him generously, bidding him a great day as he stepped out.
He tossed his jacket on quickly before he adjusted his bowtie in the reflective glass window of the building. This was, he thought, his second favorite part of it all.
For such a detached man, Alastor loved many things.
He loved meeting his victims for the first time in person. The thrill of so many eyes on him as he clasped their clammy palms in greeting.
He loved talking to them, watching their eyes light up as he mentioned what they wanted the most. That moment where he knew he had hit the nail on the head and found out exactly what made these scum tick.
He loved using it against them, luring them to a false sense of security.
And, his absolute favorite part, he loved dragging the sharp edge of his knife against the skin of their necks. The lovely shade of red bleeding down their stiffening bodies.
He just can't help but love—
"My darling?" A voice—your voice—rung out in the dark alley. 
There wasn't time. There was no time to hide the body, toss the knife, flee from the scene.
There was no time to come up a with a story, a lie, a cover.
Because you were right there, standing in the alley with him. His blood stained hands and the corpse by his feet plainly in your view.
Even with the blood smudged on the lenses of his glasses, he could see the fear in your eyes, the gears turning in your head as you tried to process the scene in front of you.
It's a real shame. Earlier today he had decided that you still had more purpose to serve him. That he could still put up with you. That he would still be able to stomp out whatever stubborn will riled you up lately.
Clearly that wasn't the case anymore.
"Now, now, dearest," He started, hand reaching out to you as he held the knife still in his hand.
Your feet moved, but to Alastor's shock you ran to him.
Your panicked eyes took in the violent red that stained the pristine white shirt as you took his outstretched hand in both of yours.
"We should go," You hurriedly whispered, fearful eyes met his confused ones. "You can't be seen here."
You tugged him along the streets, careful to keep yourself in front of him as you tried to hide most parts of him stained with red.
Alastor's eyes were wide, his long legs working on their own as he tried to understand what exactly was happening.
"Dearest?" He whispered to catch your attention. "I just chopped off a man, you know that, right?" 
Your steps didn't falter as you hurried along, but you didn't turn your head to look at him either.
"Yes," You responded. The tight knot against your throat kept you from saying anything more.
"I sliced his throat open," Alastor continued to prod more. "His blood is all over me, in fact."
You whip your head around in urgency. You meant to shut him up. You meant to warn him not to talk so loud, that you couldn't be too sure who could be around to overhear.
But when your fearful eyes met his calm, warm, sweet, ones you ended up swallowing against your dry throat. Adorning a shaky smile instead.
"And I'm sure you did it to keep yourself safe, dear." You said, although it seemed as though you were trying to convince yourself of that.
It was as if a light bulb lit up in Alastor's head. He finally understood what was happening. He fought against his own body to keep himself from smiling as he stared into your uncertain eyes.
"I knew you'd understand," He feigned a sigh. His hand, that was previously unresponsive in yours, curled its fingers to hold onto you. "I knew I would be safe with you, my darling wife."
Alastor noted the way your stiff shoulders slacked at his words. As if you were waiting for his praise; as if you were waiting for that little bit of confirmation to fully push away all those pesky, silly, little doubts you held.
As if you were begging to have the slightest bit of reason to cling onto, to prove that there was no cause to leave your spot beside him.
"If anyone asks," You said softly, your hand reached out to wipe away the little bit of blood on his cheek. "I'll tell them you came home early to me. You did promise that you would come back quickly, anyway."
Alastor smiled down at you, letting himself lean into your touch as you seemed to love it when he does. "I am so lucky that you love me, doll."
You continued to lead him down the streets, sticking to less lit areas as you did so.
Alastor couldn't stop the grin from spreading widely across his face.
Because you did love him. You loved Alastor with all your sanity it seemed, but he was, unfortunately, far too happy to take advantage of that.
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It was a huge weight off his shoulders really. 
Alastor enjoyed the hunt, the kill, but the clean up? Not so much.
While yes, he did enjoy tricking people into eating up his stories, misdirecting them this way and that, silently mocking how clueless they were. It was still such a pain to have to constantly make sure his stories were air tight. 
He didn't have to do that anymore, though. Not when all his darling wife had to do was smile shyly at people and hint that he was back home all night busy with more usual pleasures.
It wasn't even that hard to convince you to let him stay out late, hunt to his heart's content.
It was all just bad, terrible people. Scum of the earth. Dangers that could hurt you, or others. And Alastor, the dashing, selfless, secret knight in shinning armor was willing to dirty his hands if it meant keeping people safe. He'd taken on the burden so everyone else didn't have to.
Your husband, a great, tragic hero.
And besides, it's not like he asked you to kill someone. All you had to do was lie a little. Nothing grand, nothing elaborate—he wasn't so sure you'd be able to handle it after all—just smile, and hint, and spread a few insignificant white lies. 
It was easy enough, wasn't it?
And your little love for him did everything else. Your own lovesick mind fought your instincts without Alastor even doing much of anything else.
You convinced yourself so quickly that all this blood, all this violence, all this murder, just made your husband an even greater man.
Ah, he truly did love the way you loved him.
You were with him now down in the basement—Alastor conveniently finally figured out how to open the stubborn padlock—and if he was being honest, he never really imagined you joining him here.
Well, not alive anyway.
You watched him as he neatly packed the most latest body into a bag and burn the gloves he used during the act. Going through his simple routine to make sure he could continue to get away scot-free.
Alastor noticed how your eyes always averted from the corpses, insistent on staying on his form instead. He didn't really mind it, but oh did he enjoy that little spark of fear you worked hard to stomp down whenever your glance landed on a limb or two. 
He heaved the bag over his shoulder, before finally fully turning to you. "Well, let's get a move on, shall we, darling?" He smiled cheerfully, motioning with his arm for you to head up the stairs first.
You were glad to do so it seemed, you always were. You didn't have to watch your husband dispose of bodies, but Alastor found it rather cathartic how you've now started to cringe away from the basement door, after weeks of pestering him over opening it.
A little lesson, he thought. Well deserved. 
And look how behaved you were now again.
The walk to the nearby woods was uneventful. Silent. Routine.
Unlike the first time around he dragged you along. You kept wondering and wondering until you finally asked out loud how Alastor knew the streets so well. How he knew where to go where no one would see him. The man you saw him kill was the first one, wasn't he?
He laughed at your unsure smile, brushing your worries off with the flimsiest excuses. How he'd been home late so many times already because of work. How he just preferred to take the quieter roads so as to decompress from all his adoring fans—fans who weren't you.
And it was enough.
Because you foolishly trusted him. You wanted to believe him, and so you did.
Alastor hummed cheerfully as he continued to shovel dirt over his most recent victim. He was certainly far enough into the woods not to care too much about being overheard, anyway.
A sudden soft beeping noise joined his melody, and he looked down at his—rather expensive—watch.
"Would you look at the time! I hadn't realized it was already so late. Time surely flies when you're saving the world, right, darling?" He looked over his shoulder at your unsure form.
You stood hunched over, your back against a tree, and your arms wrapped around yourself, a fair distance from the man burying a body.
Your eyes avoided the hole in the dirt as you painted a strained smile on your face. 
Saving the world.
Alastor could practically see the way you tried to remind yourself that that is what your husband was doing.
"It's hard to keep track when you've got a lot do," You vaguely answer, choosing your words carefully.
It's not that you worried Alastor would do anything to you. But you were, unknowingly, cautious of any single thing that could trigger any more silly concerns within yourself.
Alastor hummed in response, his eyes staring at the mangled corpse he threw in the ditch. "They'll be looking for me at work if I don't show up soon, though." He thought out loud. "But I can't exactly leave this rotten stiff like this, can I?"
He sounded troubled. He looked troubled, with that wrinkle between his brow.
A good wife would soothe him.
A good wife wouldn't stand around watching her spouse do all the hard work.
He didn't need to say it though, not that he had any mind to. You heard his voice in your head regardless. 
Your timid, unsure voice spoke up. "I...I could stay behind and continue burying it?" It sounded like a question.
One that it seemed like you hoped the answer was no. 
Except you'd be a horrible wife for thinking that. You should be praying that he'd say yes.
After all, a good wife would do anything to help her husband.
Alastor froze for a second, his eyes catching yours from above his glasses before he adjusted them up his nose. 
Then you were rewarded with a smile.
"My darling wife, always so helpful," He cooed, walking towards you. He dropped the shovel to the ground and wrapped his arms around your waist, almost lovingly.
Alastor could feel how fast your heart beat in your chest, almost fighting to get out. "But I could never ask a lovely doll like you to do such a dirty job like this." He tsked as he looked down at you.
"I can handle it, my dear," You responded, eyes bright with stars at his praises. It was almost as if you'd forgotten what exactly it was you were agreeing to.
Alastor pretended to think for a moment, but his eyes caught sight of the watch on his wrist and decided he didn't exactly have time to enjoy playing with you more.
"Only if you promise not to get caught, my darling." He smiled down at you, and you quickly nodded, promising you'll do a good job and meet him at home.
He pressed his cold lips chastely against your forehead, and left you with a corpse in the woods to bury.
But it's just that, anyway. Nothing too much to ask for.
It's not like you killed him.
And he was probably a horrible person to begin with.
Right?
You brushed away the heavy, gnawing feeling, as you met the glassy unseeing eyes of the corpse in the ground.
Alastor surely knew what he was doing. And you loved him enough to do this simple thing to help with that.
Just as you shoveled in one patch of dirt to cover the man's eyes, you heard a loud gun shot echo through the early morning woods.
You jumped out of your skin, cold hands gripping the shovel as the sound rung out.
Your heart was at your throat as goosebumps littered your skin. 
Alastor.
You ran. You barely registered your own body moving until you felt the cold air whipping against your face as your legs carried you to where your husband went.
Worry. It all but consumed you, as your blood rushed loudly in your ears and your heart pounded.
Please be okay. Please be okay.
Please—
You didn't know what you were doing. You didn't recall it. You didn't feel any of it.
You remembered seeing your husband's body collapsed and bloodied on the forest floor.
You remembered seeing someone with a gun standing panicked over him. 
But no, you didn't remember when you ran at the culprit.
You didn't remember the feeling of stabbing the shovel into their side, nor the warmth of their blood as it splashed on your cold skin.
You didn't remember bashing the steel against their skull with all your might; the metal dented and morphed as it disfigured the man's face.
You didn't remember screaming until your throat was raw. You didn't remember the tears scrolling down your bloodied cheeks. You didn't remember the horrible, unbearably cold, ache in your chest.
You didn't remember staring down the barrel of a shaky gun.
You didn't remember dying.
All you remembered, was the feeling of Alastor's warm arms embracing you as he pressed his welcoming lips to your forehead. 
And how you knew you'd never feel it again.
At least, you didn't think you would.
You blinked in confusion as you stared up the man—thing?—that caught you in their arms like a bride.
"I guess someone ought to rewrite those wedding vows because death didn't seem to do us part!" It laughed. Its voice sounded as if you were merely listening to it from a radio.
No, wait. Sure the thing that caught you also laughed, but you could have sworn you heard a whole crowd do so as well. Strangely, almost like a laugh track.
It's sharp yellow teeth showed proudly as it grinned down on you, and you couldn't help but cringe away a tiny bit from fear.
What are you? You wanted to ask, but you knew better than to be blunt.
You wouldn't want those nasty paper folk to catch wind of Alastor's little wife being rude—
Except. Were you still his wife? Where was he anyway? Where were you?
The thing that held you laughed cheerfully as it gently set you down onto your own feet. "Darling, I will never get enough of how easy you are to read," The thing said, twirling it's cane—microphone?—in it's hand before it leaned on it to study you. 
You got a strangely familiar heavy feeling in your gut, but before you could think much of it, your arm was looped through its as it pulled you along to a shop window.
"It seems you're a tiny bit confused, my darling," It said with a bright smile. "It's alright, you weren't always the brightest bulb in the room, but you certainly made up for it with your passion." It chuckled, once again a laugh track following its words from seemingly nowhere.
You felt the tip of its microphone at your chin, tilting it so that you'd turn your gaze from him to the shop window.
You almost jumped away, like an animal not recognizing itself in the mirror.
It took you a minute to realize that you looked at your own reflection.
You even waved your hands around and tilted your head to make sure it followed your movements. To make sure this was real.
You looked nothing like yourself. Hell, you looked nothing human.
"Truthfully, I'm a little offended, dear." The thing beside you spoke up, now turning to his own reflection as he adjusted his bowtie and dusted off his red pinstriped suit. Something oddly familiar.
"It took me less than a second to recognize you, and you still seem to not even know who I am." It said, glancing at you from the corner of its bright red eyes.
Your gaze trailed up to the top of its red hair, seeing two small horns—at least that's what you thought they were. 
"The devil?" You asked cautiously, still confused. "Am I in Hell?"
It let out a hum at your response. "One of two. I suppose it's one of your better shots, my dear." It said.
It turned to face you, suddenly leaning down close, so as to have it's mouth right by your ear. Your body freezes on instinct as it spoke.
"Must I really bed you again for you to remember me, darling? Or would watching me bury another body be enough to jog your memory?"
You leaned back, only enough to catch a look at the thing's face. The knowing eyes that seemed so warm, so inviting, so charming, despite how monstrous they looked. The smile that seemed incapable of falling.
The familiar feeling that brewed in your gut.
"Alastor?" You asked, your now clawed hands reached up to caress his cheeks, and the thing—your husband—leaned into it. His eyes briefly closed.
"Took you long enough, really." He said, a joking exasperation in his tone. 
The thing—your husband, you had to remind yourself again—abruptly pulled away, his tone bright and cheery as he began to drag you along the streets with a heavy clawed hand on the small of your back. "Now enough of that! Time for more important business, darling!"
"Wait, Alastor? How? What?" You stammered, attempting to pull away to take a second to breathe and clear your head.
The hand that guided you slid to the side of your waist, pulling you tightly against it's Alastor's side. "Ah, my darling thing. Always so slow on the uptake." He shook his head as if he found it adorable. "We're in Hell, dear!"
The words rang loudly in your ears, your heart sinking to your stomach.
"And we have important business to take care of, yes indeed!" Alastor continued, not letting you process a single thought. "And for this, I'll need a partner I can trust! I'll need a partner who I can rely on! I'll need someone absolutely devoted to me." His eyes met yours but he saw how the alarm still outweighed his words.
His eyes narrowed, lowering his face abruptly to yours, to the point where you could feel his breath on your skin. He wanted your attention, all of it, and didn't really care all that much about what else you had to think about.
"Hellooo? Anybody home?" He joked, tilting his head as he saw your eyes come back to focus on him. "Ah, there you are, dear. Thought I lost you for a moment."
You supposed you could think things through later. Even if Alastor looked terribly different now, this was still your caring husband after all. And he needed something.
A devoted parter? Was that what he said?
"Well, you know I'm always here for you, Al. Whatever this plan of yours is." You tried to paint a smile on your lips as you always have.
"Oh, but how exactly do I know that?" Alastor stood back up to his full height, his head tilting as he smiled down at you.
Your brows furrow. You don't quite know how to tell him that. You swore you've done so much for this man, and yet when trying to think of an example, none came to mind.
You cooked and cleaned and looked pretty for him? Spent time with him? Loved him? Lie for him? Hide a body for him? That's just what a good wife would do.
But you supposed—you think—you killed for him.
"I avenged you?" It came out more of a question than an answer. "I killed for you."
Alastor didn't blink as he responded. "Then do it again."
Your mouth ran dry.
Had you heard him correctly? Was it a joke?
You waited for the laugh track to play but none came.
"What do you mean...exactly?" You asked with a nervous laugh, your lips straining to keep the smile.
"Kill for me again," Alastor casually said. He turned, eyes locking onto a random demon further down the street you walked along on. He raised his microphone to point at them, turning his head—unnaturally—to face you again.
"Like that one. I suppose he'll do." His tone was still as cheerful as ever.
You follow to where he pointed, eyes hesitantly looking at the creature. 
You quickly looked back up to meet your husband's gaze. That feeling was there again.
And you weren't sure if it was the fact that you just died, or the sheer lunacy of the request, but you finally realized what it was.
Doubt.
You doubted Alastor.
"Why?" Your voice was small. "Is he a bad person too?"
Alastor rolled his eyes. "Hell, if I know dear. I've only just seen him now. But we are in Hell, you know?" His shoulders casually shrugged as if he didn't really care. "So, maybe?"
You tried to hide the tremble in your voice. Tried to hide how you doubted him. "But I already killed for you. Why do I need to prove my devotion even more?"
"You killed out of passion, darling. It hardly counts." He laughed, as if you were being so silly.
You're left with even more questions when Alastor grabbed your wrist, and you melted into shadows before re-appearing right in front of your supposed victim.
"What the fuck?" They exclaimed, jumping back.
"Good day, good fellow! The name's Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you, quite the pleasure!" Your darling husband stepped in front and forcibly shook the confused sinner's hand.
Alastor waved a hand in your direction to showcase you. "This right here is the Mrs., and she'll be killing you now."
You flinched as Alastor's voice further distorted.
Black tentacles wrapped around the now thrashing demon. And to your horror, you realized they came from your still-grinning husband's back.
His red eyes now consumed by black as he looked down at you expectantly.
"I...I don't have a knife." You avoided his eyes and looked away.
Alastor's head tilted. "You have claws now, dear."
You felt bile raise to your throat at the idea of ripping some stranger apart with your own hands.
"It'd be terribly difficult if these clothes get stained. Who knows where I could get new ones in...Hell." You had to spit the word out. "A-and, we're out in the open. Anyone can see us, there might be police here o-or their friends and family."
"You won't do it." Alastor cut off your rambling, more of a statement than a question.
You didn't meet his eyes.
You heard him sigh in dismay. "Well, it's alright, my dear. I suppose I knew your love for me had its limits."
Your eyes widen in shock, head whipping to look at him in panic. There was disappointment in his gaze as he looked away from you. Even as his smile remained painted on his lips, you could see how he seemed to shrink away from you.
"That's not true!" You half yelled, ignoring the struggling demon still held off the ground. "I'd go to the ends of the earth for you. I'd give up my life for you. I followed you to Hell, even! How could you even think that my love for you isn't boundless, Alastor?"
"Because it isn't." He sighed, his clawed hand gripped his microphone tight as he started to walk around you. "You say you'd do anything for me, that you'd give everything up for me. But I'm asking you for something so simple, and you couldn't even do that."
Your shoulders stiffen, you try to turn your head to follow him around. "This is not simple, Alastor." You said, a tinge of hysteria creeping into your voice. "You're asking me to kill someone for you, again."
"Wrong." Your husband said in a rather, sing-song manner. A jarring buzzer effect played at his words.
"I'm asking you to kill someone who is already dead." Alastor explained, barely paying mind to the sinner who now just looked very uncomfortable. "And you're already in Hell."
He looked at you as if you were stupid not to have put this together yourself. "He won't lose anything. You won't lose anything. There is nothing to give up with this tiny request of mine."
He stopped walking in front of you, but a greater deal of distance away now than when he started.
"And yet you can't even do that, my love."
You glanced down at your hands—your claws—in uncertainty.
That persistent feeling—doubt—swallowed you whole as you stood there willing your body not to move.
You should stop.
Run.
Never look back.
But instead your body moved toward the sinner; sharp, shaking, hands hesitatingly sinking into their flesh.
Once. Twice. Thrice. You couldn't be useless to your husband.
Their muffled screams sounded so far away from you, even as they yelled right by your ears.
You felt it.
Their skin giving way and the blood dampening your clothes each and every time you sank your soft, delicate, clawed hands into him.
The feeling of your long claws coming into contact and tearing through whatever bone or muscle stood in their way.
The awful, gut wrenching, guilt that swallowed your chest.
You hated it.
Alastor's hand clasps affectionately at your shoulder as he watched you cheerfully. Enjoying the conflict in your eyes as your heart died with every drop of blood that spilled from your hands.
"I think I may have just fallen so deeply in love with you, my dear wife." He cooed into your ear.
And your chest didn't flutter, or grow, or skip a beat like you had thought it would at those words.
But it's probably just the guilt, right?
It's just because so much has happened that you couldn't process anything.
Because you still loved Alastor, didn't you?
You loved him with your very soul, but he was a liar, and you may have finally started to see it.
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Taglist @lil-bexie / @mizukikyong / @amurtan / @fokrilove / @fairyv-ice 
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yellowpsyduck · 3 months
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𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮?
𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐘/𝐍 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.
Tommy Shelby x Shelby!Reader Warnings: Incestuous, blowjob, period typical sexism
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"What will you be wearing, Ada?” asked the younger Shelby twin as she stood in her lace chemise and bloomers, scanning through her wooden almirah for the right dress. 
“I’m not quite sure yet. Maybe I’ll just stick with the yellow voire.” Ada replied as she held up the dress in front of the floor length mirror. “What do you think, Y/N? Does it scream ‘sultry and sophisticated’ or is it more so ‘fuck me like a whore’.” 
“Well, you can wear your knitted cape over it, to ward off unwanted suitors, then remove it when you find someone you want to fuck.” The sisters laughed as they continued prepping for the upcoming party; it wasn’t a party per se, just a little get together with people from school. 
“Is this okay?” asked Y/N as she settled on wearing a scarlet organdie dress that Tommy had bought her for her birthday. “It’s perfect Y/N. I reckon Matthew Barnaby won’t be able to take his eyes off of you in that dress, really brings out your complexion, it does.” 
“Matthew can bugger off to Timbuktu, for all I care. That boy’s getting on my nerves.” she expressed, clearly exasperated with the situation regarding the boy who had been hopelessly pining after her for months. It wasn’t that the Barnaby boy was unattractive, it was more so the opposite, with his caramel eyes and boyish grin, he was quite popular amongst the female population of Small Heath. 
And that also included her best friend, Dorothy Smith, and Y/N wouldn’t dare upset her friend by fraternising with him, by virtue of female friendships and their unspoken rules. 
“Matthew who?” came the sudden voice from the wooden doorway, startling the pair. 
“Jesus, Tommy, don’t you ever knock?” Ada reprimanded, evidently annoyed by her elder brother’s disregard for privacy, as the younger of the two quickly threw a robe over herself.  
“What’s this talk of boys and going out, eh?” Tommy asked as he stood leaning against the door frame, with his hands in his trouser pockets, sending his sisters a questioning glare. 
“It’s none of your bloody business, is what it is.” Ada retorted as she walked out of the room, wanting nothing but to escape her brother’s questioning, leaving her younger twin to fend for herself. 
“It’s just a small get together, Tommy, with people from school.” Y/N answered sweetly. She’d always been the kinder of the two, “We’ll be back before you know it.” 
“Where’s this gonna be held?” 
Y/N wasn’t sure she should answer this. She knew her brother would’ve given her hell if he’d known of the location. 
“Y/N darling, I asked you a question." his voice resounded in her ears as he held her chin up to meet his icy gaze.  
“By the Cut.” came the meek reply. “Now Tommy before you say anything, please just consider the fact that you never let Ada and I go anywhere. Be it Boris’ birthday last week or Janey’s the month before, or any party, in fact. So please, let us go just this once.” she pleaded with her eyes watering and her lips in a beautiful pout.  
“Y/N, you know I’m just trying to keep the both of you safe.” he whispered as he looked into her clear eyes. “Who knows what’s to happen when the men see how devastatingly beautiful you are, eh?”  
“But Tommy, the rest of you go out whenever you want and do whatever you please. It's not fair for Ada and I.” she argued, not willing to let go of her grievance. 
“It’s because Arthur, John and I know how to hold a gun.”  
“Well, Ada chases rats with a revolver, does she not.” came her quick retort, eliciting a chuckle from her brother. 
“Rats. Ada chases rats. That’s very different from firing it at a man.” Tommy reasoned with her. 
“What if I do something for you?” she asked him, almost purring into his ears. 
“Like what, my sweet girl?” 
“Like this.” She traced her fingers along his crotch through the fabric of his trousers, looking at him so very innocently. “And this.” she whispered as she undid his leather belt, and pulled his trousers down, hearing the metallic clang as it hit the ground. 
“You’re sailing perilously close to the wind, my dear.” He breathed raspily, as he looked down at her kneeling figure. He, however, gave no indication of stopping her as she pulled out his cock and stroked it gently, staring into his eyes, as she did so. 
His cock was growing in her hand, giving away his arousal, as it hardened and throbbed with her touch. Y/N would never tire of seeing Tommy’s red cock, it was a beast each time she laid her eyes on his sinful member, and she knew just how to knead it and suck it, to make him succumb to her wishes. 
‘Men think with their cocks’ her Aunt Polly had told her once and young Y/N Shelby had etched that saying into her mind, who would’ve known that she’d ever use it against her own brother.  
Her actions were sinfully graceful as she stroked his length with her soft hands. She glanced at him naughtily and placed a sweet kiss to his reddish tip and dragged her tongue through the length of his cock, she continued all the way to his balls, cupping them and placing sloppy kisses, prompting soft groans from his mouth. 
She spit on his cock, lubricating him as she continued pumping him. The door to the bedroom was wide open and the pair didn’t make an effort to obstruct prying eyes from peering into their lascivious act. 
Ada had made a show of closing the door to the house rather resoundingly, hence, she wasn’t to be worried about. Finn would be at school, while Arthur and John were God knows where with God knows who and Polly wouldn’t be back until teatime.   
Tommy knew the little girl was only sucking him off so that he’d grant her wish of going out with her friends, but God, did she look good doing it. His fingers tightened around her brown curls as he beckoned her to take his cock in her mouth, and she gladly obliged. Her plump red lips parted and wrapped around his thick, dark cock, earning a satisfactory hum from the man above. She sucked him as best as she could, taking him in with great difficulty, his girth simply too wide for her narrow mouth. Her eyes started watering as he bucked his hips into her mouth, his fingers gripped her soft hair as he set his pace. Y/N made a conscious effort to hold back a gag as Tommy continued his hasty thrusts, clearly lost in the pleasure of his sister's warm and soft mouth. 
His sister, his darling sister! God, did she look like a vision. 
Kneeling in front of him, with his dick in her mouth, dewy eyed and ruddy cheeked. She was perfect; utterly and devastatingly perfect. 
His thrusts got faster as his balls slapped against her chin, she was such a good girl, suppressing her gags as he choked her with his relentless assault of her throat. 
He was close, he could feel it. Just a little more. 
“You’re doing so good for me, my sweet girl.” he moaned through stifled groans. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”  
With a final thrust, he spilled his seed inside her mouth as it dripped down into her cleavage, spoiling her chemise which she so adored. 
“Tommy, look what you’ve done, now I’ve got to wash it again.” she grumbled through muffled sounds and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.  
Y/N didn’t wait for her brother to gain his composure and sauntered into the lavatory; she didn’t have the time to boil water for a proper bath, hence, she soaked a towel and resigned to rubbing her body clean. It was in times like these that she quite envied Dorothy, for her father was the District Magistrate and they could afford plumbing facilities in their mansion, which meant that they’d have hot water at will, unlike the Shelby’s who weren’t the most well off financially. 
She wrapped a spare towel over her body as she made her way to the twin’s shared bedroom to find Tommy leaning against the window with a cigarette between his lips.  
“Close the curtains, will you?” she asked him as she dropped the towel to the floor and rummaged through her drawers for her inner garments. Tommy did as asked as he took another puff of the cigarette, his eyes raking over her nude body as he watched her shimmy into a blue chemise with matching bloomers. Her movements were unhurried as she sat on the bed and pulled up the stockings. 
Tommy had always enjoyed watching her dress, the way the material of the stockings would dig slightly into her plump thighs, or how divine her legs looked in the garters and she’d always let him tie the corset lace. He'd done it enough times to know just the tightness that she preferred.  
“I’m planning on wearing this.” she announced as she held up the scarlet dress, knowing fully well that he wasn’t going to deny her a night out now. 
“Just be back before dinner and make sure your sister doesn’t make a drunken fool out of herself.” he replied as he placed a soft kiss on her shoulder. 
“Will you also be going out?” she asked absentmindedly as she tried on the dress, twirling contentedly in front of the mirror. 
“I might.” The girl quirked an eyebrow at this, “To meet Greta Jurossi, I presume.” 
Tommy hadn’t known that his sister would be privy to his and Greta’s discretions. “And whatever gave you that idea, my sweet girl?” 
“Kitty’s been spewing tales of you and her sister. The whole of Birmingham must’ve heard of it by now, heaven knows that girl can’t keep her mouth shut to save her life.” she answered nonchalantly and opened the window, spotting her sister playing hopscotch with the younger girls. “Ada!” she yelled at her twin, motioning her to come up to the house.  
Tommy took that as his cue to exit and he made his way to the door, “And Tommy, thank you so much.” she whispered as she wrapped her arms around his torso.  
He placed a kiss on her forehead and left without a word. 
“Well, did he actually agree?” squealed Ada as she darted into the room, “Of course he did.” Y/N assured her. 
“Well, fuck me, how on earth did you persuade him?” she asked as she hurriedly combed her hair, not wanting to be late for the event. 
“It didn’t take much honestly, and I’ve got a sweet mouth, you know.” Ada nodded, obviously not understanding the innuendo behind her sister’s words.  
And she never would, for that was to remain a secret between Tommy and Y/N. 
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simpcityy · 2 months
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My Little Spawn Pt.1 (Dadstarion X Child!Reader)
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Summary: Astarion was finally free from Cazador after being kidnapped by a mindflayer but he was stuck with one annoying task, you.
Disclaimer: I do not own Baldur's Gate 3 or any of its characters.
Word Count: 2.1K
Warnings: Use of (Y/N), Cazador, language, spoilers for those who haven't gone far in the game....Uhhh...I think that is all.
Everything was dark and blurry in his eyes. All he remembers was stalking in the shadows looking for his next prey and suddenly he was kidnapped. He felt mixed emotions, fear but importantly joy, he was finally away from Cazador. It would be like he suddenly disappeared in thin air and Cazador will need him no more. Until he was stuck with another burden, You. “Would you keep quiet, dammit!?” He whispered rather loudly. You stopped shifting around the tall grass and peaked out of it. “I’m sorry” You whispered before going back to hiding. He looked over seeing two people walking by, “Perfect” He mutters and gets ready to put on his performance.  
  After almost getting incinerated, you and Astarion have found a group and camp for the remainder of the period till the little wiggly worm is out of your mind but of course, you wouldn’t comprehend, for you were so young. 
“Who’s the little adorable bugger?” Gale smiles letting you try to read the books he has found so far. “For the record this annoying little sp-human is not mine, they just seem to be attached to me.” Astarion watches you trying to pronounce the big words only to butcher them. “But it’s getting rather late and I hate to deal with a cranky annoying child tomorrow.” He picked you up keeping his arms outstretched and walked to his tent. Once everyone was out of earshot, he squats at your height. “Listen here, you must not tell anyone what we are understood?” His red eyes look down at your innocent (E/C) ones. “But why not?” You sat on top of the pillow looking up at Astarion seeing him take a deep breath in. Of course, Astarion knows he has to make it simple. “Because we are playing a game” He grins “ We are all hiding our identity. You and I are a team and the rest are a team. Whoever is the first one to discover their real identity, is the sore loser.” He gives a smile sitting down next to you. You pouted, your cheeks puffed up “We will win, okay! I won’t tell.” You lean back before yawning “ If they ask what do I say?” You cute little doe eyes look at him tiredly. “Hmm…we are just normal elves got it?” He looks away in deep thought, “it’s for the best for now” He mutters before leaning back “ You know for a being the youngest Spawn he created…you still need rest like a human, you are such an odd little creature” He gently plays with the ends of your hair “ Why did he even turn you?” He whispers as you slowly slip into sleep. “What use does he even have for you?” He kept asking himself all the questions ever since you were part of the “Family” 
You were the youngest spawn Cazador has ever gotten. You were only 5 soon turning 6. Astarion was first shocked to see Cazador holding you in his arms when he came back from bringing a pretty prey for his master. He never dared question, he kept all his unanswered questions to himself. Astarion felt anger towards you both. Why was Cazador more tender with you, not treating you like he does to his other spawns. Why did you get the special treatment? He was mostly angry towards Cazador as always, why did he turn you, you didn’t even reach your half way milestone of your life. You were going to stay that age and size forever.  He has been treated like shit for 200 years but you, you would never experience the things a child should be, the things teenerages and young adults go through. Once again Cazador has robbed you of your life just how Astarion was robbed of his.
Morning rolled by, You picked up a little flower near Gale’s tent, “Astarion! Look what I found!” You ran up to him as he was getting ready to set foot on finding a healer with the others. “What is it this time?” He mutters looking up before seeing a flower being gently shoved to his face. “A flower.” You smile waiting for him to take it. “ A flower…you called my attention for a flower…this is why I don’t work with little annoying monsters.” He sighs already feeling annoyed from the lack of blood. “I’m sorry…” You whisper looking down, putting the flower away from his face, small tears forming in your doe eyes. He stops putting things into his bag and sighs “ Why must you be such a crybaby” He sits down pulling your tiny form on his lap, taking the flower. “Wow, thank you. I feel the luckiest person to get a flower from you.” He says in a bored voice looking at you. You sniff and rub your eyes, “You mean it?” The tears no longer present in your eyes. He looks at you unamused. “Yes, now shoo, I have to pack. Go bother Gale, Shadowheart or even Tav but not me got it?” He makes you get off his lap before freezing feeling you give him a light peck on his cheek “Okay! I’ll collect more flowers for the others!” You giggle before running off.  He placed a hand over his cheek and watched the direction you left. “What an odd little spawn.” He whispers before continuing to pack. 
  You hummed a tune as you collected more flowers near Gale’s camp where Gale was sitting on the pillow, reading a book. He looks up hearing you hum. “Say (Y/n), that tune you must be from the upper city aren’t you?” He smiles placing the book down as your little feet shuffle over to him. “Mmhm! Papa would always sing me this lullaby at night!” You grin “It’s my favorite and he always wants me to sing! He says I’m his little singing bird!” Placing the flowers down, you sat on the ground in front of gale. Thinking back to what Astarion said last night, remembering to not give away too much information. “Judging by your clothes, I bet your father is a rather important man?” He smiles rubbing down those stubborn baby hairs that lift up from your hair. You only nodded “Papa is the best! I miss him and I want to go home…” You look around the wilderness that you and Astarion crashed in. “I want him to hold me close…I always dream of those monsters…and the little wormy” Whimpering you scoot into Gale’s arms. “I don’t want them to come back!” You tear up, “I want papa to hold me but he’s not here!” You wail. Gale quickly panics “Oh…crying child…what to do…wish Tara was here…” He mutters before rubbing your back “Hey now, you can always come to me, Shadowheart and even Tav if you ever have a nightmare. How about this, before you go to bed, I will tell you a story so you can dream of that story rather than the scary monsters. Trust me, I have read so many books, I know them by heart.” He grins as you finally stopped the water works. “Which is why he’s a walking library in this case.” Shadowheart smiles walking over “Now, we should get going, the closer we find a healer, the faster you can go to your papa” She smiles leaning to your height. “Really!” You smiled, your eyes widened at the thought of seeing your father soon. “Let’s go!” Grabbing the flowers, you ran to Astarion to share the news. 
“Astarion!”
“What now!?” 
Walking to find a healer seems like eternity to you, “I wanna rest!” You whined to Astarion tugging at his shirt. “Then complained to Tav, they are leading the damn group, not me.” He sighs, breathing in heavily to compose himself from lashing out. “Up! Up!” You lifted your arms. “The hell I won’t!” He walks faster only for you to follow him whining even more. The rest of the small group look over watching the two of you, seeing you bothering Astarion even more. “Is it me or do these two know each other very much?” Shadowheart watches you keep tugging on his shirt. “Yet he says he doesn’t know (Y/N), that they only tagged along with him.” Gale crossed his arms. Tav smiles “I don’t know, (Y/n) looks nothing like Astarion so I doubt they are related and (Y/N) always mentions a papa.” Shadowheart and Gale nodded. “What in the nine hells! Where did you go!?” Astarion looks around for you as you stop tugging on his shirt a while ago. “Where did they go?” Tav walks back to the pale elf. “ I don’t know, the moment they were annoying the hell out of me! Next thing I know, they are go- wait…” He smells it, blood. You must have run off to the smell. “ I…um…heard them, this way” He quickly follows the scent with the rest following. 
You carefully walked down the ladder, the smell of blood getting stronger. Turning around a corner, you are met with a woman with red skin, burning and importantly with a broken horn. Slowly walking over to the tiefling, you look up at her “Are you okay?” You meekly whisper seeing how tall she was according to your height. She looks up hearing the childish voice, “Hells, what is a child doing all alone?” She looks at you shocked before feeling the tadpoles connect. “Fuck” Karlach whispers holding her head “You were also in that ship…” She whispers before calming herself down and kneels down to make it seem less intimidating to you. “Hey there little soldier,  What are you doing all alone?” She smiles as you slowly take small steps towards her. “I…you’re hurt…are you okay?” You go to place your small hand on her but she backs away quickly. “Careful there, I’m not like any other tiefling, I can burn you.” She smiles “I'm Karlach, what’s your name, little soldier?” She chuckles admiring your little face as you try to say her name slowly. “Car…Ka…la…Karlach.” You finally get it right, before giving her your name, someone else beat you to it. 
“(Y/N)!?” Tav runs over, crossing the log and quickly pulls you back from Karlach, putting you behind. “Get away from them” Tav frowns weapons out. “Are you okay?” Shadowheart checks you over for any injuries as Gale also checked along with her. Astarion catches up and lets out a small sigh seeing you alive and safe. “What in the sweet hells were you thinking running off like that?! A goblin could’ve gotten you or a wild animal?!” He looks down at you but stops himself seeing you tear up. “I-I’m sorry….don’t get mad like papa!” You cried. “Like papa….” He glares down at you. “Don’t ever compare me to him you litt-” He stops himself seeing the fear in your eyes. Him, being like Cazador. He would rather kill himself than be exactly like his old master. He sighs before kneeling to you as the others were busy with Karlach. “Sorry…I was…I guess you can say I was very worried…I know it wasn’t your intention to run off…” He then whispers “You must be hungry…for blood like me…I know you are craving that sweet and yet bitter flavor but you need to hold it in like I am…tonight we’ll find some small vermin okay?” He slowly pats your head as you nod. Standing up, he walks over to the rest as you follow closely to him. “My, I feel so much better knowing we have a strong wall to protect us from any arrows” He smirks after learning Karlach was recruited. “I like her! She’s nice!” You popped out from behind walking over to Karlach. “And I like you little soldier” She smiles. 
After going back to camp for the day, Astarion watches as you listen to Gale’s stories. He sat from his tent looking at a book but his mind wandered back to what you said. Like papa…when has Cazador ever punished you? He thinks back but nothing comes to him. He turns the page to the book to make it look like he was reading. He looks back at you with that question still haunting his thoughts. It really ticked him off when you compared him to Cazador, he will never be like him…no he will be better. He wants to get back at him and back at him good. He smirks looking at you. Why not get him back with the thing he treasures the most, or rather the person he treasures the more. 
You
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Authors Notes: Thank you everyone for reading this, please like, reblog and share it with others. I will be working on Part 2 soon hopefully. I also started another series a month ago or more about Astarion and a Gur! Reader. There is only part 1 out as well but I will be working out on that. Please remember to stay hydrated and to get some rest. Love you all! You are welcome to ask to be tagged as well for the next part.
-Axie
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cameronspecial · 6 months
Text
Birthday Surprise
Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader
Warnings: N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.1K
Summary: With Drew's birthday on the horizon, Drew's daughter and wife wanted to do something special for him.
A/N: Happy Birthday to someone who absolutely makes butterflies in my stomach! Hope this day is amazing!
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November 4th. The day Josepth Andrew Starkey entered the world thirty years ago. Drew doesn’t like to do anything big for his birthdays. He prefers to spend the day with his family rather than partying in a crowded club with annoying drunks, but for this milestone birthday, his family had other ideas. His daughter wants to make a big deal out of her father’s birthday and has helped her pregnant mother plan a surprise party for him. This has been kept from the man up until the morning of his birthday. Y/N is up earlier than expected because of the tiny kicks the human growing in her uterus is giving her. Her rolling back into bed in a struggle pulls Drew from his dreams of his wife and daughter. “Is mini-me giving you a hard time again?” he whispers, bringing her back into his hold. She nods against his chest, “Yes, the little bugger seems to think my bladder is a kickstand.” Drew gives a small chuckle, pressing a kiss to her forehead and then her stomach. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart. You only have three more months,” he reassures, rubbing her belly to help soothe her. Her hand finds his, “It’s okay. It will all be worth it in the end. Happy Birthday, my love.” 
She leans over her stomach and kisses him on the lips. He smiles in the kiss, “Thank you. Ugh, I can’t believe I’m thirty. I’m so old.” “No, you aren’t! You are young at heart, love. Just yesterday you were eating an Uncrustable and colouring in a book,” she giggles. The image of yesterday comes to his mind, “I was only doing that because Millie wanted me to do those things with her. Speaking of Millie, what time did you guys go to bed? I swear I felt like I heard you guys up pretty late last night.” In her tiredness and pregnancy fog, Y/N lets the secret slip out of her mouth. “She went to bed at twelve and I was in bed by four I think. I was going over everything for your surprise party so it took me some time because I kept getting hungry and needing to pee.” Her eyes rival the size of the moon when she realizes what she has done, her hand finding way over her mouth. 
Drew chuckles as he processes the words and tries to end her endless apologies, “It’s okay, Sweetheart. You didn’t mean to. You were up late and have a lot on your mind.” “Right. Well, you have to act surprised at the party. Millie is so excited to surprise you; it would crush her if she knew I spoiled it,” Y/N warns, looking him directly in the eye to make sure her point is getting across. Drew gives her a nod, “Got it. I’ll be so surprised that it’s almost like I act for a living.” Y/N giggles at his joke and her smile grows at the pitter-patter of their three-year-old’s footsteps. 
——
Millie shooed her father out of the house right after lunch, sending him with a laundry list of things he needed to do before he got home. As he drove around doing the chores, his heart would warm every time he looked at the non-sensical scribbles that were his daughter's “writing”, which had a translation written by Y/N beside each scribble. Even if he didn’t know about the party, he knew he would gladly do these errands for his girls on his birthday because all he could ever want was to take care of them. 
His hand meets his front door and he takes a second to get into character, almost like he is on set. The handle is pushed down to reveal a dark room, which is suddenly set alight with the screams of ‘surprise’ by his family and friends. He lets his shock show on his face, both hands covering the o-shape of his mouth. “Wow, this is amazing. Thank you guys so much,” he thanks the crowd, looking around for his girls. It isn’t long before Millie is running into her father’s arms. “Happy Birthday, Daddy,” she greets him, letting herself be picked up into the air by the older man. He gives her a massive grin, assaulting her cheek with multiple kisses and thanks. “Daddy, your moustache is tickling me,” she complains with joy in her voice. He pulls away, letting the hand not holding up his daughter adjust the dad hat on his head, “I’m sorry, Baby. Maybe Daddy should get rid of his moustache.” 
“No! Mommy likes it. But Daddy… Were you surprised by my party?”
“Yes, I was, Baby. I was so surprised. I love it so much.”
She looks at him in disbelief, “You are lying! You weren’t surprised.” Drew doesn’t know how his acting doesn’t seem to fool his daughter. “No, I’m not. Daddy really was surprised by the party,” he promises, starting to bounce the girl, who is about to cry. “Okay, maybe Mommy accidentally told Daddy, but it’s okay. Daddy still doesn’t know what you have planned for me.” This causes the girl to pause her cries, “Can we have cake now? I want you to see the cake.” Wanting her smile to return to her face, he nods his head, booming to his party guest that it is time for cake. Nobody objects that the cake is being served before dinner or other party activities. Instead, they all gather around the kitchen table and begin to sing the famous song. “Happy Birthday dear Daddy! Happy Birthday to you.” Millie’s loud singing is the one mainly invading his senses. Maybe because of her proximity to him with her being on his lap or maybe because his focus is mainly on her. “Make a wish, Daddy,” she orders. He obeys, blowing on the candles in the form of a thirty.
“What did you wish for?” she questions. Her eyes bore into his with curiosity. He is about to tell her when Y/N speaks up, “If Daddy tells you, Millie, it won’t come true.” Drew shakes his head, smiling down at his daughter. “It’s okay, my wish is already coming true so it can’t hurt to tell. I wished for more happy days with you and Mommy and everyone else that I love.” The crowd awes at how adorable his words are. “And the baby?” Millie clarifies with concern that her father forgot her baby brother or sister. He nods, “And you baby sibling.” He gives her a kiss on the forehead, allowing her to help him with cutting the cake. 
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia
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thechaoticdruid · 3 months
Text
[We'll Protect Each Other]
Paring: F!Tav x Astarion
Plot: While staying at an inn in the Underdark an unfortunate chain of events forces Tav and Astarion to protect one another.
Content Warnings: Fiercely protective Tav, Tav uses She/Her pronouns, Tav is kinda feral and unhinged, blood, gore, threats of/ literal genital trauma, we are going game of thrones up in this bitch, sexual harassment, brief allusions to Astarion's trauma, violence, so much fucking violence, death, Tav is heavily based on my own Tav Winnie. Oh and a little fluff.
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Tav hummed as she sat at the tavern table, glancing down upon the suspicious letter she'd received last night. 
‘I'll see you soon, True Soul.’
Been a while since she was called that, almost everyone who had referred to her as a ‘true soul’ was dead now so being addressed as such was rather peculiar, but at the same time not completely unwelcome. Tav smirked slightly, the idea of a new foe to face sparked excitement. It had been so long since the human druid had a good fight.  Since the defeat of the Elder Brain she'd been staying in the Underdark, looking after a horde of hungry vampire spawn. Her days weren't uneventful in the slightest, but gods did she miss adventuring. 
Tav's lover was over at the bar getting the two something to drink. Since the Underdark has become home to seven thousand life-challenged individuals this particular inn had made preparations to feed them should any appear at the establishment. He tapped his claws on the table, waiting for the bartender to finish mixing up their beverages as an uneasy feeling coursed through his body. Astarion had felt unfamiliar eyes on him since he'd left to get him and his beloved some refreshments. His blood red eyes darted back and scanned the tavern. Tav was still waiting at their table and mostly all the other patrons there happened to be deep gnomes, all who seemed much more concerned with friendly banter. But then he spotted someone off in the corner. A tall half-orc whose eyes seemed trained on him.  Astarion wasn't exactly sure how he didn't spot the big oaf sooner, usually he was far more perceptive than this, but perhaps his hunger had him quite distracted. The elven vampire tapped on the bar table impatiently wondering exactly what was taking the bartender so long. 
Eventually the half-drow barmaid brought over the drinks.
“Sorry for the wait.” She said softly, “not used to preparing food for our night time visitors.” The half-elf handed him a cold mug of dessert wine and a warm mug of ethically precured lifeblood.
Astarion took the drinks before turning and making his way back.  The half-orc then made his move, walking straight towards him.  
“Have a drink with me, handsome?” The half-orc gave a flirtatious smile, making the elf internally sigh in annoyance.
“No, I think not. My partner is waiting for me, you see.” Astarion gave a forced smile before attempting to make his way back to Tav. A large green hand was placed on his shoulder.
“Come on! Surely you're not talking about the little rat’s nest of hair? Sweetheart, I could show you things that little human wench couldn't even dream of-”
The elf quickly slapped his hand away. 
“Oh, I highly doubt you could show me anything I haven't already done myself. Now bugger off.” Astarion growled out the last part, barring his fangs at the orc before stomping off. 
Tav glanced up as Astarion took a seat next to her. He had a look of discomfort on his face, but quickly bushed it off as he noticed her attention on him.  “I'm back, my sweet.” Astarion smiled at Tav, setting their drinks down before planting a kiss on her cheek.
“You okay, doll? You seem uncomfortable.” Tav put her hand on his shoulder only to receive a small smile as his hand covered her own.
“I'm fine, love. Just a little annoyed by the wait is all.” Astarion squeezed her hand gently, not wanting her to worry. 
“Okay….” Tav said before looked back down at the letter, taking a sip from the wine Astarion had brought her. 
“What's that?” Astarion asked, sliding an arm over her shoulders before taking a sip from his own mug and internally sighing.
Rothé blood….
“Just an ominous threatening letter left by gods know who.” Tav said casually, nearly making Astarion spit out his blood. 
“Ah darling, perhaps you should be a just little more concerned about this?” 
“I'm not afraid. Let them come get me! I've been itching for a good fight for ages!” Tav clenched her fist, a wicked grin spread across her face. 
“Oh Tav, you know what that bloodlust look does to me.~” Astarion flirted leaning closer against his love. “But maybe we should be at least a bit more careful?”
“We’ve dealt with plenty of baddies before, Star. It’ll be fine!” Tav insisted.
“Need I remind you that there are only two of us now since the others have all gone their separate ways.” Astarion sighed, “I just worry for you, my dear.” 
“I know babe.” Tav planted a kiss on his cheek affectionately before saying,”I'll tell you what, once we get everything sorted out with the other spawn we'll recruit some new traveling companions and go after that ring of the sunwalker thing I heard about.” This brought a smile to the vampire’s lips. 
Large footsteps were heard stomping over to the table. Astarion glanced up seeing the half-orc from before approaching them.
“Sorry about my behavior before sweetness. I've just never seen such a breathtaking looking creature such as yourself. So, how about you ditch the runt and i'll take you somewhere we can get you something better to drink…. Perhaps someone?~” 
“Are you daft? I told you to bugger off!” Astarion snarled, glaring daggers at the large male. Astarion kept his arm around Tav in a protective manner, but it was more so for his own comfort truth be told. The half-orc was really making him uneasy. Tav could feel Astarion shake a little. 
“Hey, no need to be like that, I just want a piece of that tight little elven as-”  The half-orc was suddenly silenced by a scimitar pressed dangerously close to his groin.
“You really don't want to finish that sentence, big guy.” Tav said calmly, not even looking up at the green bastard. “You know I’ve been really itching to slit someone's throat lately, but you….I think I might have fun with you…” She said before finally turning her head towards him, a sadistic grin spread across her lips. 
“Y-You better watch yourself y-you little b-b-bitch!” He whined out the last part feeling Tav press her blade harder against his clothed crotch.
“Oh I like this!” Tav breathed out, voice unhinged and full of bloodlust as the half-orc began to shake in terror. “A big stupid creep thinks he can push me around just because I'm small…It's almost cute how pathetic you are. I should cut you open and show everyone what you really are inside. A gutless coward!” Tav stared at him intensely. The wicked grin spread across her lips didn't falter even for a second, until eventually she sighed.
“But it'd be rude to get blood all over Lyn’s nice clean floors.” Tav said, speaking of the half-drow bartender. “So you're going to leave now and never come near my lover again, or I'll cut your cock off and shove it down your throat. Understand?” Tav spat, nearly stabbing the blade of her scimitar through the orc’s pants.
“Y-Yes m-ma’m!” The half-orc said in a high pitch tone. 
“Good boy.” Tav pulled her blade back, “now get the fuck out of my sight.” She growled, causing the green creep to turn and make a run for it, slamming the door on his way out of the tavern. All the gnomes had seemed to halt their chatter and look over to the two lovers.
“Tav…” Astarion muttered in an irritated tone, “I didn't need you to defend me! I had that completely under control!” He fussed, clearly embarrassed because of the scene Tav had caused. 
“I'm sure you did sweetie, but you can't just expect me to sit by and do nothing when some pervert keeps treating you like a piece of meat.” Tav said calmly. 
“Darling that orc was huge! What if you hadn't been quick enough!? What if he comes back!?”
“Honey, I can literally turn into an owlbear.” Tav rolled her eyes. “I know you’re capable of kicking ass, Star. I have no doubt about that. But I don’t protect you because I think you're weak. I do it because I love you.” Tav said sweetly, placing her hand against his cheek. “And sometimes it's okay to need someone to protect you…” She looked down at his trembling hands. Fear began to stir in her gut, worried that he might have been triggered by the situation. Astarion simply place his hand over hers and relaxed into her touch. 
“I know. I love you too…It's just…I want to be able to protect the both of us…” Astarion glanced off to the side.
“You can! Babe, you're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for! You practically carried our team the entire time we were worm brained!” Tav placed a second hand on the other side of his face. Astarion rolled his eyes with a slight smile.
“Gods Tav, you're such a bad liar.” 
“I'm not lying!” Tav chuckled, “I'm pretty sure you have more kills than the rest of us combined! You're so stealthily and quick! The fuckers never saw it coming!” 
“Well perhaps I could be willing to allow you to win this little debate. Granted you continue to list off all of my many talents, or you can just call me beautiful and we can head upstairs for the evening?” 
“You're beyond beautiful, my Star.” Tav purred. 
        •~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
The night was quiet as Tav and Astarion rested on the top floor of the Inn. Both of them snug in their bed. Astarion always had a tendency to curl around Tav as she slept and he tranced. However, tonight Tav lay there, eyes wide open. Her mind for some reason wandering off to a memory brought on by today's events.
“I assume he belongs to you.” The drow’s eyes leered over Astarion lustfully as she spoke about his as if he was nothing but cattle.
“Excuse me? I don't appreciate you talking about my friend like he's a fucking piece of property.” Tav snapped, stepping in front of her companion protectively. Of course she'd see him that way. The drow treat all their men like cattle. The fact didn't make Tav any less insulted. 
“Now now. No need to speak like that. I only wish to make a trade.” The drow said calmly, however her stare seemed to harden a little. “What is your name, spawn?” 
“It’s Astarion but hold on!” Astarion put his hands up as if to keep some distance between him the drow. 
“Astarion, I've dreamt of being bitten by a vampire since I was a little girl.” She purred. Tav shot the drow a look which she ignored, red eyes locked on Astarion’s mouth.
“Let me get this straight, you want to be bitten?” Astarion asked, a look of confusion and disgust filled his face. Normally he would jump at a chance to sink his teeth into a willing person, hells part of him wanted to drain this bitch dry because of how she talked about him, but this drow pretty as she was her blood smelled worse than death itself! Just being in her presence was enough to make him want to gag! 
“To feel my life’s essence slipping away, to dance on the edge of death, yes I want it.” She said, nearly swooning. “I'll even compensate you. A potion of legendary power. It's not for sale, but it's yours if you bite me.” 
“I will have to decline.” Astarion said immediately.
“Excuse me? This is a once and a lifetime opportunity and you're squandering it!” 
“I gave you my answer!” Astarion spat. The drow woman ignored him and immediately turned to Tav. 
“Can't you talk some sense into your obstinate charge!?” She demanded.
“He said no. The hells do you not understand?” The druid snapped.
Gods, Tav couldn't help but think back to her first encounter with Araj the drow blood merchant. This incident today reminded her far too much of it. Except this time it might have been worse. The fucking orc actually tried to put his hands on him.
Tav furrowed her eyebrows and glanced back over to Astarion’s peaceful looking face. She knew he could handle himself in a fight, but the situation was different. These sorts of things really got to him. Tav ran her fingers gently through his hair. She needed to keep safe no matter what. Sleep took Tav eventually and she snuggled into her vampire’s embrace, enjoying the coolness of his skin.  And for a while the two were at peace, blissfully unaware of what lurked in the shadows.
It was probably about midnight when Tav woke up. She whimpered and felt around the bed for her lover, only feeling emptiness in his place. 
“Astarion?” Her eyes slowly blinked open and Tav sat up. She glanced around the room discovering the vampiric elf was nowhere in sight.  She tried to rationalize that Astarion was probably just up and around since he didn't need as much rest as she did, but Tav couldn't help but feel anxiety creep its way into the back of her mind.  She got to her feet before slowly feeling a dagger be pressed against her throat. 
“Nice to see you again, true soul…” A familiar feminine voice spoke softly in Tav's ear, causing her to grit her teeth as she looked back. 
“Araj? The hells are you doing all the way out here?” Tav sneered. 
“I needed to see you again. I require your help.” 
“I told you before, you aren't getting any more of my blood and if you even think of bringing up Astarion so help me-”
“This isn't about him, darling. This is about you. I am on the verge of something extraordinary, but I need one key ingredient. Your heart.” Araj slowly dragged the knife down her throat and down between her breasts.
Tav rolled her eyes before chuckling.
“Sweet, but you know I'm spoken for.” In a swift motion the druid slammed her foot down on the drow's own before grasping hold of her wrist and forcing the blade away from her body.
“You idiots! Get in here and help me!” Araj suddenly shouted, prompting the door to open, revealed two half-orc male’s and a female. 
With them was Astarion bound with silver chains wrapped around his body. Cloth was tied around his mouth, preventing him from speaking, but Tav could very clearly hear him whimpering in pain. The silver was burning his skin! 
“Now cooperate or else! I'll make sure our darling bloodsuck-” Tav didn't even give the drow a moment to speak any further before knocking the blade from her hand and slamming her fist into her face with enough force to knock Araj to the floor. Araj hit the ground with a thud, seemingly knocked unconscious from the blow. The druid’s eyes quickly went back to Astarion who was struggling and letting out muffled cries of pain, but despite this he looked far more pissed off than afraid.  That didn't calm the rage that was stirring deep inside Tav however, and the fact that the same gods damned perverted orc from before was holding onto Astarion's silver chains just pushed her over the edge. 
Without even thinking Tav dropped to the ground transforming into a huge direwolf before letting out a deep bloodthirsty snarl and lunging right for the familiar half orc. Her jaws sank right into his groin, causing him to let out a blood curdling scream.
“Bloody hells! Get that thing off of him!” The female half-orc shouted. 
“But the vampire!?” The other male orc replied.
“He's tied up you dumb fuck!” She shouted before turning to attack Tav. Tav yanked her head back hard, tearing a chunk out of the half-orc’s flesh and trousers. The half orc continued to scream as Tav spat his unmentionables out before he tumbled over and began to bleed out on the floor. 
“That crazy drow bitch better pay us good for this.” The remaining male half-orc muttered before charging at Tav alongside the female. 
Tav quickly dove under his legs before bucking him to the ground with her back and darting right for Astarion. Astarion shook his head as his wildshaped lover approached him with a doglike whine and sunk her teeth into his chains, trying to he them off him. She was only able to allow one of his arms to slip free. Astarion quickly tore the cloth around his head. 
“For gods' sake Tav! Look out!” He shouted, before suddenly the female half-orc slammed into Tav from behind, wrapping her arms around her in a headlock. 
“I've got her! I've got her!” The female orc shouted. Tav growled loudly before turning round and sinking her teeth into the orc female’s shoulder. In the struggle the two ended up tumbling down the stairs and out the front door of the tavern.  The half-orc male was about to run off after his female companion when suddenly he noticed Astarion had somehow slipped free from his bindings. The vampire’s skin was quickly healing from the burns left from the silver, and his eyes almost appeared to be glowing red. He clenched and unclenched his fists revealing sharp claw-like fingernails and the next thing the half-orc knew were icy fangs piercing his throat.
Outside the tavern, Tav and the female orc were still going at it. The half orc threw a punch to Tav's head knocking her back before she took out a blade and took a stab at the direwolf only for Tav to dart out of the way at the last second and take a bit at the orc woman’s leg. 
“You godsdamn mutt!” She yelled, kicking Tav in the face before plugging her blade into her back.
Tav howled in pain and backed up, blood trickling down her back and staining her fur.  She let out a pained whimper as she looked up at the half-orc.
The she-orc smirked triumphantly.
“Not so high and mighty now are you, druid?” She huffed starring Tav right in the eyes. Without another word Tav lunged at the orc with a monstrous growl, sinking her jaws into the green female's head. 
“GODS DAMNIT!!” The half-orc screamed. Tav sunk her claws into her shoulders as she stood up on her hind legs and dug her teeth into the orc's skull.  Then with a harsh whip of her head Tav snapped her opponent’s neck. The druid then released the orc, letting her drop to the ground.
Tav dropped back down on all fours with a sigh, panting a little from the fight. She turned her head and yanked the blade from her back. Luckily in this form she wouldn't actually be harmed. But she was honestly feeling far too tired to stay in her wildshape now. Slowly she transformed back, taking a moment to regain her strength. 
“A-Astarion…I-I need to get back to Astarion…” Tav told herself. 
“I'm afraid you won't be seeing him again.” Araj suddenly stepped out from the shadows, blade in hand. “I am not leaving without your heart!” She hissed. 
“Oh for fucks sake! Don't you ever get tired of being a psycho!?” Tav hissed, she quickly reached for her weapon, but this time Araj was quicker.  She stabbed her blade into Tav's leg making her freeze. 
“What….W-What is this!?” Tav sputtered, suddenly feeling her limbs begin to tingle and go numb. She tried to move, but her body just felt so heavy. 
“A paralysis potion I've been keeping for a rainy day. I'd hoped I wouldn't have to use it. I have no idea what affects it will have on your heart unfortunately, but I can't let you get away.” Araj stopped as she watched Tav whimper and squirm on the ground. The silver haired female wiped her blade clean off the potion before she then undid the buttons on Tav's shirt, exposing her chest.
“Now I'll need a nice clean cut. I don't want to damage your heart too badly.” The drow licked her lips before dragging the tip of her blade over Tav’s chest. “Just close your eyes and it'll be all over…” Tears began to form in the corners of Tav’s eyes, heart pounding so hard she was sure it’d burst right out before that damn drow bitch would even have a chance to cut into it.
“Get away from my Tav.” Astarion suddenly growled out, appearing behind Araj who quickly turned and struck at him with her blade. 
“Not until I have her heart!” Araj hissed.
Astarion ducked out of the way, unsheathing his own blade and taking a swing at her.  His dagger barely nicked the side of her cheek as she dodged, drawing a few drops of blood.
“Gods below, it's even more foul smelling than before!” He made a gagging sound.
“Mock me all you like! It won't stop me!” Araj took another stab at Astarion aiming right for his throat, but he quickly grabbed her wrists and pushed her back towards the ground. Now that he was free of the tadpole his vampiric strength returned and it gave him an edge in battle.
“You know darling, I think I may have had a sudden change of heart. I may just bite you after all.” Astarion said, forcing a grin upon his face. 
“What-” Confusion flickered over her face for a split second, immediately being followed by Astarion sinking his fangs into her neck, but instead of drinking her blood, he tore her throat right out.  
Astarion immediately spat out any of her blood that had gotten into his mouth before watching her drop to the ground, a twisted smile plastered over her face. “I-Incredible….” She choked out before suddenly coughing up an alarming amount of blood. 
 He quickly disregarded her lifeless body and swiftly moved to Tav who was still paralyzed on the ground. 
“My love, are you alright?” Astarion knelt down and cradled her head with one hand.
“I-I can't m-move….S-She got me with a paralysis poison…” Tav croaked out.
“Hang in there lover.”Astarion frowned, looking down at Tav with worry. He immediately scooped her up bridal-style. “I'm going to take you to Dalyria. She should be able to cure this.” Astarion carried Tav back into the tavern. Several of the patrons were whispering to each other. Some seemed deathly afraid of Astarion and his love. The vampire spawn simply ignored them.
“I don't think we're going to be welcome here any longer, Star.” Tav said as Astarion set her down on a sofa near the tavern fireplace.  
“Forget them, darling. We're leaving anyway. Now sit tight while I grab our things.” Astarion said, kissing her forehead before quickly going upstairs to get their packs. Tav sat by the fire, she could see the barmaid Lyn giving her an awfully ugly look. 
Good gods, it's not our fault we were attacked.
Tav rolled her eyes. It didn't take long for Astarion to return with their things.  Tav weakly nuzzled her face into his neck as Astarion scooped her back up into his arms. Tav stared up at him with adoration as he carried her out. 
“You did it, you know.” She hummed.
“What are you on about?’ Astarion glanced down at her.
“You protected me!” Tav exclaimed with a weak smile, “and thank the gods you did. I was sure I was a goner.”
“You give me far too much credit, my love. I still allowed you to get injured. You did a much better job than I.” Astarion huffed. 
“You kidding? You just saved my life Astarion and this isn't even the first time.” Tav insisted. “Look, from now on no more arguing over who protects who. We protect each other and that's final.” 
“You're being awfully demanding of someone who can't even move her arms, my dear.” Astarion chuckled, “but I am grateful all the same.”
He planted another kiss upon Tav's forehead before continuing on to meet up with his sister and hopefully cure his beloved’s ailment.
The two set off, leaving the tavern to deal with three battered corpses and a mysterious trail of blood…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Note from TheChaoticDruid: Phew! Finally got this thing out! Honestly despite finding her a very shitty person and absolutely despising how she treats Astarion I can't help but find Araj interesting. The whole thing with blood and heck the creepy shit you find in her basement makes me want to know more about her. Kinda went a little overboard with this in terms of violence I guess, but I kinda wish there were more bg3 fics with some action in them. Also, I may have kinda ignored how silver and vampires work in DnD, but BG3 plays fast and loose with lore so I guess I will too. Hope you like it!
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bapple117 · 1 month
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Velvette Slang Masterlist: for the fandom
A gift from a humble Brit to anyone (not from the UK) wanting to write Velv convincingly ~
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Hello you wayward sinner!
Are you looking to write Velvette into a fan fiction, comic, roleplay or something else? Would you like to make her sound legit but you have no idea about British (or indeed, South London) slang? FEAR NOT! I, Bapple, am here to hold your hand and guide you through the wonderful world of British slang so you can have fun making Velv sound legit. Let's proceed!
Not all of this will be limited to the UK, of course, and it's not an exhaustive list of ALL British slang either - it's just the kind of things Velv WOULD say as someone from South London.
Insults
For men: bastard, prick, wanker, knob, dickhead, wankstain, bellend, git, tosser, sod, cock, pillock, numpty, codger (means old man)
For women: bint, bitch, slag, wench, slut, tart, trollop, scrub
For anyone: arsehole, arse, twat, sket, muppet, minger (means ugly), bugger, gobshite, cretin
The absolute worst thing you can call someone else is cunt - this is very strong and isn't used in casual conversation, unless you are in VERY informal company, in which case it's thrown around like it's nothing at all. (Come here you cheeky cunt - playful)
Terms of Endearment
Babes, hun, luv, darlin', sweetheart, mate, sweetie, mucker, pal, blud, fam, dear, dearie, honey
Eg: "Alright babes? How's it going darlin?'"
British people often use insults affectionately, too, especially with close friends as a way to tease / banter. (You silly sod, you useless prick, you cheeky git, you daft muppet, etc)
Slang Words
Drunk: trollied, smashed, pissed, wasted, legless, hammered, sloshed, battered, bladdered, merry, shitfaced, arseholed, plastered, lashed
Good: banging, well good, mint, the dogs bollocks, ace, blinding, cracking, brill, fab, neat, beast, fresh, hench, jokes (that's jokes innit), lush, peng (good looking), sick, wicked, peak, wavy
Bad: grim, naff, shite, shit, crap, tat (useless old tat), minging, rank, dry, nasty, humming (means gross)
Pleased: chuffed, buzzing, tickled pink, sorted (I'm sorted mate)
Annoyed: gutted, miffed, pissed off, fucked off, fuming, raging, ticked off, well annoyed, bovvered (used more sarcastically eg: I aint bovvered), vexed
Curses
Bollocks, fucking hell, bloody hell, bugger, piss off, any of the insults used above
Other random words
Bare = a lot of (eg bare money)
Chirpsing, grafting = flirting
Garms = clothes
Lips = kiss (are you tryna lips me?)
Peng ting = good looking person / high quality thing
Standard = of course, yeah no duh (Yeah that's standard mate.)
Tight = cheapskate (Don't be so bloody tight!)
Yard = your house (Come over to my yard)
Banter = conversation that's funny, casual, playful (S'just banter innit)
Convo, chinwag, chat = conversation
Defo = short for definite (Oh he's defo up to something)
Other random phrases
Are you taking the mick? = are you mocking me?
Stop faffing around = be serious and stop messing about
That's mad = wow, I can't believe what you just said or that's amazing
Allow it = just leave it, it's no big deal (Whatever mate, allow it)
Other helpful pointers
When British people (who talk like Velv) swear angrily we do so many times in a whole sentence and add a lot of qualifiers, eg:
"Fuck off you fucking prick, you absolute fucking useless arsehole!"
"Don't piss me off babes or I'll fucking end your shitty little life!"
Making a crude observation about something nearly always a curse in-front of it, eg:
"That's fucking rank."
"It was fucking buzzing mate!"
The Magical Use of Innit:
Innit is a wonderful word that can be used everywhere, especially for someone from South London. It basically means "isn't it?" but it has MANY uses. It can be used to mean an agreement, like "I know right?"
"That was well good innit"
"He's a right twat" - response: "INNIT!"
"It's fuckin grim in here" - "Innit mate"
Adding "well" to words
That was well good - that was well bad - that was well grim
(You get the idea)
That's about it for now!
If I think of anything else I will edit this masterlist and if anyone has any questions please feel free to pop them in my inbox. Happy writing!
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writers-potion · 2 months
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International Slang, Slang, Slang!
I'm sharing this list of slang in different languages (English, British English, French, Spanish, Italian, Japanese, Malaysian, Russian, Hindi) to use for dialogue:
English Slang
LOL = laugh out loud
OMG = oh my god
Noob = newbie
LMAO = laught my ass off
SFW = Safe work work
HMB = hit me back
XOXO = hugs and kisses
Txt = text
msg = message
cuz = because
kinda = kind of
outta = out of
'bout = about
C'mon = come on
'em = them
lil = little
lotsa = lots of
nope/nah = no
wanna = want to
dunno = don't know
lemme = let me
TBH = to be honest
gotcha = have got you
jack around = waste time
jillion = an immense number
nuke = destroy, delete
bushed = extremely tired
fab = fabulous
chicken = coward
grabbers = hands
grub = food
vanilla = plain
peanuts = very little money
British English Slang
skive = lazy or avoid doing something
knackered = tired
nicked = stolen
bugger = jerk
zed = equivalent to zzzzzz
nosh = food
dog's bollocks = awesome
bog roll = toliet paper
nutter = crazy person
punter = customer/prostitute's client
fiver = 5 euros
toff = upper class person
taking the piss = screwing around
pissed = drunk
wonky = not right
gutted = devastated
Tosser = idiot
Cock-up = screw up
Bloody = damn
Wanker = idiot
Fancy = like
Lost the plot = gone crazy
Kip = sleep or nap
Bee's knees = awesome
Dodgy = suspicious
Wicked = cool!
Know your onions = knowledgeable
Chuffed = proud
Bespoke = custom made
Give you a bell = call you
Hoover = vacuum
Tad = little bit
French Slang
Spanish Slang
Tu (me) fair chier) = (literally: you make me
shit) You are pissing me off
Ca me saoule = I'm sick of this
J'en ai ras le cul = I'm sick of this
Fringues = clothes
Grailler = to buy/steal/take/eat
Crever = to die
Crevant = exhausting
Gerber = to throw up
Defonce = stoned
Glander = to procrastinate/to do nothing/to
lay around
Va craver = go die
J'ai la dalle = I'm hungry
Avoir la flemme = not wanting to do
something
Japanese Slang
Tio = dude or guy
Guay = cool/great
Currar = to work
Fome = boring
Value = okay or sure
Colega = buddy or friend
Pasta = moneu
Majo = nice or friendly
Flipar = to be shocked
Bocachancla = gossip
Raro - weird
Papear = to eat
Resaca = hangover
Plomazo = boring
Loco = crazy
Chafa = Lame
Baka (ばか) = Stupid or idiot.
Bucchake (ぶっちゃけ) = To be honest or frank.
Chiruru (チルる) = To chill or relax.
Chō (超) = Very.
Dame (だめ) = No good or not allowed.
Dasai (ダサい) = Uncool or out of style.
Disuru (ディスる) = To disrespect or talk down about someone.
Egui (えぐい) = Awesome or incredible.
Gachi (ガチ) = Serious or real.
Ganba (がんば) = A short version of “ganbatte,” meaning “do your best” or “good luck.”
Guguru (ググる) = To Google something.
Gyaru (ギャル) = A fashion-conscious young lady with tanned skin and long nails.
Honto (ほんと ) = Really or for real.
Ii kanji (いい感じ) = To have a good vibe or feeling about something.
JK = High school girl.
Kimoi (キモい) = Creepy or gross.
Kira kira (キラキラ) = Sparkling, cute, or beautiful.
Kireru (キレる) = To snap or lose your temper.
Maji (マジ) = Seriously or really.
Moteru (モテる) = To be popular or attractive.
Mukatsuku (むかつく) = To be irritated.
Nampa (ナンパ) = To chat or pick someone up.
Sugoi (すごい) = Amazing or incredible.
Uzai (うざい) = Another word for annoying.
Wakannai (わかんない) = I don’t know.
Yabai (ヤバい) = Anything from “awesome” to “oh no.”
Russian Slang
Долбоеб (dolboyob_) = Fool, Idiot
Иди на хуй (idi na hui) = F*ck yourself
Сволочь (svo lach’) = Trash, Scum, Jerk
Жопа (zho pa) = Brat (typically used towards children)
Гавно (gav no) = Sh!t (used more when speaking to yourself rather than to insult someone)
лох (loh) = Stupid, Idiot, Sucker
Гандон (gan don) = Condom (Whilst calling someone a condom in English is just not a thing, it’s quite common in Russia. Used to refer to someone weak or just plain irritating)
Чушь собачья (chush’ sobach’ya) = Bullsh!tter
Malaysian Slang
Трахни тебя (trakhni tebya) = F*ck You
Ти дегхенераат (ti degheneraat) = You’re a degenerate
Отыебис от меныа! (otyebis ot menya!) = Move your ass / Get the f*ck away
чертовски дно (chertovski dno) = F*cking bottom (would be used when referring to hitting rock bottom.)
Bo jio = use when referring to friend who didn't invite them to a gathering (e.g. 'why you bo jio?)
Ýum cha = hang out over drinks or food at local coffee shops
belanja = I got you covered
Potong Stim = killjoy
Boss = waiters refer to their cusomters as boss, and customers call out for waiters using the same term!
Tapau/Bungkus = take-away
Ang Moh/Mat Salleh = "Western foreigners"
Kantoi = being cuaght red handed
Paiseh = shy or embarrased
Walao Eh! = brother
Macha = good friends (equivalent to "fam" in English)
Alamak! = shock, surprise, or frustration (punctuate with 'face palm' for dramatic effect)
Lah = This one really has no meaning, used to add "emphasis" and "flavor" to sentences. It is rather addictive...
Kawan baik = best friend
Jom = let's (inviting someone to do something together)
Best gila = crazy good, crazy fine (like "amazing!" in English)
Kantoi = busted
Fuyoh = WOW or OMG
Cincai = whatever
Italian Slang
Ma Dai = come on, imagine, stop it (express surprise, amazement)
Chi Se Ne Frega? = Who cares?
Scialla = stay calm
In Bocca Al Lupo = Good luck
Come Il Cacio Sui Maccheroni = like sheep's milk for the macaroni
Come Te La Passi = How is it going?
Trescare – Have a flirt
Camomillarsi – Calm down
Sbalconato – Be out of your mind
Incicognarsi – Get pregnant
Citofonarsi – Call someone by surname
Tirare tardi – To be late
Inciucio – Intrigue, a cheat, a mess
Un carnaio – Many people together in the same place
Abbioccarsi – falling asleep unexpectedly
Bordello – Problematic, confusing, and chaotic situation
Fottìo – Something that has happened or occurs in large quantities
Svalvolare – Loss of control
Rosicare – To be envious of something
Scazzato – A state of mind of malaise
Che pizza – a boring or bad thing
Sbroccare o sclerare – Getting angry and making a scene
Raga – Guys
Tranqui – abbreviation of the word “calm,” it means to stay calm
Che Figata – Cool
Meno male! – Luckily or thank goodness
Che schifo – How disgusting
Vivere alla giornata – Live in the moment
Pisolino – An Italian slang word that means “afternoon nap”
Hindi Slang
Yaar = Friend, used at the end of sentences for casual social interactions (including shopkeepers/autorickshaw drivers)
Achcha = good/okay/really?
Thik Hain = okay (+ head nod)
Arre = hey (with a higher tone = surprise, lower tone = exasperation)
Bas = that's it
Chakkar = dizziness
Funda = fundamentals
Ghanta = Yeah right
Jugaad = hack
Bakwaas = nonsense
Chalega = That will do
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harrysmmm · 10 months
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✧˚ ༘ ⋆。♡˚ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴀɴɴᴏʏɪɴɢ - ᴅ.ᴍ
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Draco Malfoy x Y/N (f!reader)
Setting: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
Summary: where Harry and Draco have a crush on you at the same time and they both ask you to the yule ball.
A/N: should I make a part two? I feel like a little bit of jealous Malfoy after knowing that Harry has a crush on Y/N could make a nice follow-up.
W/C: 1.6K
masterlist here
Annoying. That’s the word you would use to describe that moment. One of the qualities you always acknowledged possessing was empathy. You softened with people that were sensitive; you listened to people that were suffering; you loved people that were lonely. It was in your nature to care for people, to try to understand their motives. But at that specific moment in time, you wanted to slap the shit out of a certain one.
Brat, bugger, git, prat, smart-ass, toff, wanker, yob, the list went on. That’s how you would describe Draco Malfoy. He had it against you and your friends. No - correction: he had it against everyone that was not a damn pureblood slyther-fucking-in. You would turn a corner and there he was casting a spell that would make you slipper like a seven-year-old in a slide. You would enter a classroom and find your table gravitating in the air, with all your notes scattered all over the classroom. You would eat in the Great Hall and a dead tarantula was right in your pumpkin soup. Since first year, he had been mocking you and your closest friends, Harry, Ron and Hermione. And even if the most well-known rivalry was the one he had with Harry, yours was more personal.
That cloudy day of October he decided to throw bird notes at you in Transfiguration class that distracted you from paying attention. Some of the messages followed as:
“Hey Y/L/N, I bumped into the kitchen elves this morning, they were wondering why the dishes were not done. I told them you were probably busy eating all the leftovers.” “Hey Gryffindork, saw Longbottom is still free for the yule ball, maybe you can both live your pathetic little Gryffindor tale together. P.S. You could also ask Hagrid. Bet he’s free for you.”
Private. That’s the way you would describe Harry Potter in one word. You two were close, although not as close as he was with Ron, or as close as you were with Hermione. The fact that he was always bearing the prophecy of being the chosen one was something that would set you apart – mostly because you weren’t living it and he didn’t like to further explain. It was in third year that you surprised yourself with your body’s reaction to his presence. How you started to care about the way your laugh went out during a joke; you started to care about how your hair would fall when you were sitting at the library. You developed a crush on the boy. You never made a move; he never seemed to notice, nor reciprocate it, so you eventually desisted and focused your attention on other matters.
Those were the only two boys you would mostly communicate with, for better or worse. You didn’t particularly consider yourself an introvert, but you surely counted your acquaintances on a low number, especially when it came to boys. You also bared the weight of Hermione’s influence, who was surely not into boys’ talk, or boys in general. When you were with her, which happened to be most of the time, you followed her flow and ended up not particularly wondering about dating, or romantic feelings for the matter.
However, due to the debut of the Triwizard Tournament, there was a ball that was going to take place on the 25th of December. A ball that you needed a date for. Date that, after a week of having been announced, you still didn’t have. You hadn’t been worrying until Hermione had told you that she already had a date, with no other than Viktor Krum, the hottie of the year. And if even Hermione had already managed to find a partner, that meant that you were way behind.
“You have a date?!” asked Ron, very surprised.
“Yes Ronald, why that tone?” Hermione replied.
“Bloody hell, who are you going with?” he continued, still shocked.
“I’m not telling you, but I have one,” she pretentiously replied.
“’m sure you’re bluffing,” he insisted, grinning.
“I am not! Ask Y/N!”
“She’s not,” you simply replied.
“Just because you still don’t have a date, doesn’t mean I don’t get to have one,” she said. You noticed Ron’s reaction really got to her.
“I don’t have a date because I don’t want one just now.”
“Now you are the one who’s bluffing,” commented Harry.
“You gotta help me out here, mate,” Ron whispered to Harry.
“You’re pathetic Ronald Weasley,” added Hermione, furiously closing her notebook. She stood up from her seat, handing her homework to Professor Snape. “See you later, Y/N.” You waved goodbye at her.
“Bloody hell, this woman is so delusional. I bet she made that man up,” Ron continued after Hermione had left the classroom.
 “You’re too hard on her, Ron. Besides, she does really have a date,” you said, defending her.
“I already pity the man then,” he replied, focusing back on his homework.
You rolled your eyes but didn’t answer, also focusing on the task that was on the desk.
“For Merlin’ sake, I can’t focus. I’mma go, I’ll finish it in the dorm.” Ron stood up and exited the classroom.
“You’re probably gonna have to pass it to him,” you said to Harry.
“You bet on that,” he replied, grinning.
You focused back on your homework.
“Y/N,” uttered Harry.
“Yeah?”
“Well, I was wondering… if you want… well, I was just thinking… that if by any chance you… uh… still didn’t have a date… for the ball… you might… perhaps… wanna come… with me?”
You had a surprised grin on your face,
“Well, I mean, I thought you wanted to go with someone special… taking into consideration that you’re one of the champions,” you managed to say.
“Yes… that’s why I’m asking you,” he replied.
The entire scene unnerved you. You had been wanting to be asked out by Harry since third year, and now that he was starting to conceive your dynamic as more than friendship your feelings for the boy had already worn out.
Bloody Potter, always wrong timing.
“Can I give you a proper answer tonight?” you asked, knowing that you had to process things through before saying yes.
“Sure, yeah, no problem,” he replied.
You both smiled at each other and went back to the Potions’ homework.
It was almost time for supper but you were headed to the Great Lake to read for a few moments. Technically, you were forbidden from doing so. You meant technically, because being friends with Hagrid gave you some advantages, like a free pass to visit him and wander around. You also absolutely adored that time of the year, when the leaves were of warm tones and the chill breeze made you wear white turtle neck jumpers or jumpers that had the Gryffindor patch sewn in them.
You were comfortably reading under the shade of a tree when you started hearing boyish sounds. One of the voices you recognized belonged to a particular bleached boy.
“Woo-hoo, look who came to visit her giant boyfriend.” Draco approached you, followed by his sidekicks Crabbe and Goyle.
You didn’t even wait two seconds to get up and start packing your things.
“Leaving so soon? Are we bothering you?” He cockily started approaching you.
“Fuck off, Malfoy,” you replied, closing your bag.
“What do we have here, huh? Let me see,” he asked, referring to the book you were holding.
You held it tightly but he managed to pull it from you.
“The summer I met you, ha,” he snickered. “Romantic heart, wouldn’t have bet so from you Y/L/N.”
“Can I get it back?” you asked, pulling your arm forward.
He smiled at you. “Nah.” He threw the book into the lake.
His friends started woo-hing and laughing.
“You disgusting little rat,” you pulled out your wand and directed it towards him.
He was not laughing anymore, his sidekicks directing their wands toward you too.
“You cast something, we make sure you can’t walk again,” Goyle threatened you.
“It’s alright guys,” Draco said. “Just go.”
The boys seemed confused. “Who are you talking to?”
“You, idiots. Go!” Draco snapped.
The boys didn’t move.
“You heard him. Go!” you insisted.
They pulled back, confused, and eventually left.
Your wand was still on Draco’s neck.
“Easy now, lower you bloody wand,” he calmly said.
“You’re disgusting, Draco. I mean it.” Your blood was boiling. “You treat everyone like shit. I never did anything for you to hate me. I never asked for any of this, nor did anyone.”
“Go to the ball with me,” he said.
Your heart stopped.
What in the actual fuck?
“What?” you replied.
“I want you to go to the ball with me, if you want to,” he repeated. Your wand was still on his throat.
“Why would you want that?” That was the only thing you managed to say.
He placed his right hand on your wand and slowly put it down, without losing eye contact with you.
“Isn’t it obvious, after all this time?” he said.
“I’m lost, Draco. I have no idea what is going on,” you replied, ideas of him feeling the opposite of hate for you coming to your mind.
“You’re that blind, aren’t you?” he continued, placing one hand on your wrist.
You freezed at his contact.
“Why am I blind?” you were only able to ask stupid questions at that point.
He held your face with his left hand.
“So blind…” He got closer to your face, his eyes slowly closing.
You waited for the impact. And there you had it.
His lips slowly brushed yours, still not fully colliding.
“I’m crazy for you, Y/N,” he said with both of your faces glued to each other. “You can’t even fucking imagine.”
“Since when?” you replied.
“Since always.”
Magically annoying. Those are the words you would use to describe that moment.
part two
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