#i'll do a part 2 if there's enough for it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

i-cant-sing · 2 days

Text

Time Traveller AU pt3

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Find the AU masterlist here! Check out my MASTERLIST here.

"This is so unnecessary" you whispered to the man sitting behind you. "Everyone's staring." Your eyes scanned over the mass of people in town, as your horse passed through.

You thought you would get your own horse, but Baldwin had other plans apparently, as he just picked you up from your armpits and plopped you in front of him on his horse.

You could feel him smiling from ear to ear. "I think they're just in awe of your beauty. I would suggest getting used to the stares, now."

You rolled your eyes. "Dont flatter me. I know how I look, besides- I was referring to us sharing a horse. Its unnecessary and its why everyones looking at us."

"I think its unnecessary to get another horse for you. You dont know how to ride them, and believe me when I tell you- these horses are wild. I dont want you to get hurt when they kick you off." He teased.

You scoffed. Alright, maybe you werent an equestrian, but how hard would it be to ride a horse anyways? Didnt Baldwin learn to ride one when his right arm was paralysed and he had to do with his thighs mostly to control the horse?

"Still, I couldve gotten a carriage. Or better yet walked? Maybe even ride a horse with someone else-" You quieted down as you felt a pair of lips peck behind your ear.

"Dont even think about it. Why would I let anyone touch you, be this close to my princess-" his arm snaked around your waist and pulled you back closer to him. "Wouldnt you prefer your soon-to-be-husband to help you instead?" He whispered as his hand slowly found its way to rest on your belly, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Heat rose to your cheeks as you pulled his hand away and smacked it when it tried to touch your waist again. "Behave, Baldwin." You admonished with a smile as people looked at you. You dont want to create a scene (especially not one where history would report some lady smacking King Baldwin).

You getting flustered and angry only made him chuckle, as he leaned down to give the back of your head a kiss.

Enough with the PDA already. Arent medieval times supposed to be more conservative?

Ugh. Your lips formed into a thin line. Maybe he'll back off when you reach Salauddin and he sees how other Muslims act.

With some entourage accompanying you guys, you travelled away from the kingdom for almost an hour or so until you crossed that one sand dune beyond which Salauddin and his people were camping.

Before reaching the dessert, you had asked Baldwin if he had something that you could cover yourself up with. You want to adhere to the customs and not accidentally piss off one of the greatest Muslim rulers. Sure, you could've worn something more concealing before leaving the castle, but neither of you wanted people to know that you two were going to meet Salauddin.

Baldwin nodded and in one swift motion, he had removed his cloak and wrapped it around you, bringing the hood over you.

"But- what about you?" you looked back at him with wide eyes. People didnt just wear full length clothes back then just because of modesty, but also to protect their skin from sun damage.

He smiled. "I'll be fine, princess." No, you wont. And you're not risking yet another historical change by having the king of Jerusalem getting skin cancer.

Immediately, you tore off the bottom of your tunic and made a keffiyeh (a headdress) which covered both his head and his face. "There, now we can go."

From the keffiyeh, only his eyes were visible, which crinkled up. "Did you cover me up because you dont want women staring at me in awe?"

"What? Of course not. You just recovered from leprosy. Your skin would be sensitive to the harsh sun and heat of the desert-" He cut you off by laughing lightly.

"Whatever you say, princess. Whatever you say."

As you neared the camps, you saw men dressed in battle armour coming out of the tents, and you from the way he walked, the way he dressed, even his mere presence could make you recognise Salauddin from a mile away.

The horse stopped and Baldwin got down first before helping you down. You followed him as he walked towards Salauddin, who was standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. An erie silence settled all around you, the sound of air whooshing being the only thing audible for a few moments. Salauddin stared into Baldwin, while men from both sides glared at each other, one hand on their swords, ready to fight.

"Salam alaikum." Baldwin spoke first.

Peace be upon you.

You heart dropped for a second when Salauddin didnt reply back immediately. With your hood covering your face, you couldnt exactly see his expressions, only resorting to his body language and sounds to anticipate his mood.

Salauddin's lip quirked up. "Walaikum asalaam." He opened his arms and both men embraced each other for a few moments and you could feel the tension around you finally melting away as men from both sides finally started conversing with each other normally now that their kings were talking amicably.

Salauddin patted his back and raised a brow at you. "Who taught you the keffiyeh to cover that sore face of yours?" Baldwin chuckled. "My fiancee- Y/n, princess come here will you?" You walked closer to Baldwin. "This is Y/n, and we're both here today to invite you to our wedding. Darling, say hi, will you?"

You gulped. "Assalamu alaikum".

Salauddin's ears perked up. "Walaikum asalam. That was perfect pronunciation. Have you been taught by Arab scholars?"

"About that..." Baldwin chuckled nervously. "Y/n, why dont you go there with the ladies? They seem pretty eager to meet you." Salauddin nodded his head and a couple of women, all wearing burqas approached you. "This is princess Y/n. Take good care of her." Salauddin told them as they took you to their tent, where only women remained.

Meanwhile, Salauddin let Baldwin in to his tent.

"So, whats the secret?" Salauddin asked as he sat down, beckoning Baldwin to do the same.

He took a deep breath. "Y/n is... a Muslim."

Salauddin blinked at him. "What?"

"She's Muslim." He repeated. "So could you just tell me about the Islamic wedding ceremony? Nikkah, right?"

Salauddin stared at him. "Are you joking?"

"No."

"You cant marry her, Baldwin."

"Why not?"

"Because she's a Muslim and you're Catholic!"

"So? I havent seen it stop Muslims from marrying non muslims."

"No- only muslim men can marry non muslim women. It doesnt work the other way around."

"Salauddin, thats sexist."

"Its not sexist- nevermind, I cant help you understand it. But no, you cant marry a Muslim woman."

"What if... shes not Muslim?" Salauddin gave him a puzzled look. "I... believe Y/n may be using religion as an excuse not to marry me."

"If she doesnt want to marry you, why do you wanna marry her?"

"She does want to marry me, she's just... confused. Look, Salauddin. She cured me- CURED leprosy. This doesnt happend to anyone. She- she has something holy about her. How else do you explain this miracle?"

"So what? You think God and what- Jesus? chose this girl for you? That they gave her healing hands to cure your disease? You think shes of divinity?"

Baldwin smiled softly. "I do." Salauddin rolled his eyes. "Youre infatuated with her, Baldwin. Its temporary. She performed some magic, or tricks and you think she's divine? Do not make a fool of yourself."

"Then explain how I suddenly got well, Salauddin. Youve travelled the world, you sent me your best Arab healers, you believe in sciences- explain to me how I was cured of my incurable disease."

Salauddin gazed at the young king. "Let me guess, she claimed that she's been sent by Almighty God to cure the King and save Jerusalem, and in return, you must marry her or give her your throne to fulfil some prophecy?"

Baldwin chuckled, leaning back against the ottoman a bit. "Actually, she's been denying that she did anything to help me, she keeps on making excuses to marry me, she avoids my affection- and if I'm being honest, attention." Salauddin's eyes furrowed a bit. What game are you playing?

"Maybe... Black magic?" Salauddin is well aware of witchcraft, its been mentioned by his religion too.

Baldwin shrugged. "She's far too angelic to be associated with that. I'm sure there would be prominent signs if she was involved in any sort of magic or witchcraft."

Salauddin was about to reply but just then, his guards came running in.

"Salauddin! There's a sandstorm coming!" Immeadiately both kings sprung up.

"Tie up the animals! Tell everyone to get in and take cover!" Salauddin barked orders at his men.

The women in your tent were immediately informed of the situation and they quickly started taking measures, with the men outside helping to nail down the tent and gathering the baby animals and children, bringing them inside the tent.

You got up to leave and go to Baldwin, but the women pushed you back down, telling you its not safe to leave.

"The storm is here! You can't leave now!" Well, alright then. You plopped back down on your seat, when you heard someone cry out loud and your eyes immeadiately saw the liquid on the floor.

Of course it was the pregnant lady.

The woman had went into labour and everyone rushed to help her. Everyone but you. Nuh uh, youre not meddling in this time, lest anyone else accuses you of having magic healing hands.

Another harrowing scream pierced through the room, with the harsh winds threatening to blow away the tent adding on to the tension.

Maybe I could just stand near them, just to make sure they are using proper hygiene. Or actually just to see how midwifes worked in the past. Yes, its for science.

You stood near the midwifes, out of their work field because you dont want to be an obstacle. Of course, you may have had caught the sight of the poor woman and her... vagina, which youre ashamed to say has made you sick to your stomach because child birth is not a beautiful phenomenon and fuck this shit youre never having babies.

After almost an hour, the baby was finally out. The stench of sweat and blood and the nightmarish sights you'd caught glimpses of had made you want to throw up when suddenly the enviorment turned gloomy. And it hit you.

The baby wasnt crying.

The mother who was previously crying from labour, was now crying due to a different kind of pain.

You felt for her, you truly did. Carrying a child for 9 months, making sure to take every precaution, not to mention the constant prayers for a healthy baby (and for some, specifically a boy) otherwise the mother would be blamed.

The midwife put the dead baby in the bassinet beside you before tending back to the grieving mother, who was still bleeding from down there.

"Poor Fatima." You heard one of the women whisper to her friend. "To wait for 8 years before she finally conceived... only for her child to die before he could even take his first breath."

Your heart broke as you heard them, the woman sobbed inconsolably. You turned your head to look at the baby in the bassinet and subconsciously, you wondered what went wrong.

Doesnt look like he was choked by the umbilical cord... and he doesnt look cyanotic either, so he probably wasnt dead inside the womb. Your eyes widened. Maybe-!

Your hands went to pick up the baby before halting mid air. No. No. I cant interfere- I cant mess with history more than I already have. I cant save a child who was destined to die-

Your head whipped to the woman who let out a shrill, devastating cry, begging God to let her son live.

Fuck it. You picked up the baby. Maybe this baby was destined to live.

Immeadiately you checked for breathing before putting the baby on a table nearby and placed two fingers on the left side of his chest, starting compressions.

"1. 2. 3-" you muttered under your breath, trying to recall what was drilled into your head when you were attending first aid classes. Pinching the baby's nostrils, you breathed into his mouth, eyes watching as his chest rise and drop. You repeated the compression set 2 more times when the baby finally took a huge breath and began crying.

Picking up the baby, you ran towards the bucket of water and started cleaning the baby's head and face off the mix of blood and amniotic fluid, while massaging his back and his feet to encourage him to breathe on his own.

After a few minutes, you turned around to cover the baby with a cloth swaddling him up nicely and thats when you finally looked around you.

Everyone was staring at you in shock, the sound of the baby crying echoing the silence.

Shit. You rocked the baby gently as you handed him to his mother, who also looked at you in shock with tear streaks on her cheeks. I hope... they didnt see me do CPR.

Yes, damage control. Thats what you need to do. You cleared your throat. "Um- yes, Allah has blessed you with a beautiful son. Lets be grateful to Him." And the women slowly began talking again and agreeing, some saying that they'll go give sadaqah (charity to please God) while others were going to go pray.

When you turned around, you saw Baldwin and Salauddin standing at the entrance of the tent, the former having a beaming smile while the latter looked in surprise.

Maybe it was the stench of sweat and blood in the room, maybe it was emotional situation you went through (high key nauseating), or maybe it was the mix of amniotic fluid and blood on your mouth from when you saved the baby, but the next moment, you lost consciousness.

When you woke up, you noticed you were in a different, much bigger tent. Rubbing your eyes, you sat up with a groan.

"You're finally awake." You looked up to see Salauddin sitting at his desk in the other corner-

Salauddin? Your hands went to draw your hood over your face but you realised your (or well, Baldwin's) cloak had been replaced with a cotton niqaab that veiled your entire face except for your eyes.

Standing up, you looked in his direction. "Where's Baldwin?"

You heard him chuckle darkly. "He left."

"He left?" You heard him walk over to you, and instinctively you took a step back, narrowing your eyes at his audacity.

He towered over you, face neutral as he looked down at you. His hand gestured to his right, where a chess set was placed on a table.

"Do you play?" He asked, eyes never leaving yours.

Hesitantly, you nodded. He sat down, beckoning you to do the same.

"Ladies first." He let you start the game. "I should tell you though- if you wish to leave out of this place alive, you'll have to win."

What the shit? Is this some sort of psychological game? Or is this actually happening? I mean, people in the medieval times were crazy. Just because he's muslim shouldnt excuse him from insanity.

You picked up the white pawn. "Where is Baldwin?"

"I told you, he's gone." He moved his black pawn. "He sold you to me."

You looked up at him. What? "Focus on the game. You do not wish to know what will your fate be if you were to lose this game." You immediately picked up your bishop and moved it.

Salauddin clicked his tongue as he took your bishop. You moved your pawn again. "Why- why would he sell me? I'm his fiancee." You asked, your eyes never leaving the board. You're playing for your life here.

"Well, when we saw you use black magic to save that baby- oh, I took your other pawn too, mhm-" He smiled as he looked at your furrowed brows. "And then I told him that you cant be a muslim if you were using black magic."

"Black magic? When did I use it?!" you asked exasperatedly as you lost your knight.

"We saw you muttering something when you were "saving" that child." Muttering? When was I muttering? "One of the ladies even said they heard you whisper some repetitive words to a tune too."

Repetitive words-? You wanted to bang your head against concrete when you realised he was referring to you doing compressions to the rhythm of Stayin Alive by the BeeGees. This one is not your fault because the instructor taught you guys that.

"I was not doing black magic. Even so, who are you to decide if I am a Muslim or not?" You moved your other knight.

"I am Salauddin Ayubi-"

"So?" Salauddin looked at you.

So? So? No one has ever dared to ask him questions.

"Your real name is Yusuf. Salauddin is just a laqab, hm?" Your eyes never left the board as you made your move. "Do you think you're above me? Above Baldwin? Above anyone?" You didnt let him answer as you gestured at him to continue the game. "I dont recall you being a prophet. I dont remember you being a caliph even. So, Salauddin tell me what gives you the right to judge if I'm a muslim or not?" You asked as you took his pawn.

Salauddin narrowed his eyes at you, making his bishop take another pawn of yours. You didnt let it deter you as you practically snatched the same bishop of his with your rook. "Just because youre a muslim, you think you have the right to judge me?"

He scoffed at your words, making his move but you took yet another black pawn. "I am a Muslim. I was born in a Muslim family-"

"Exactly." You took more of his black pawns as he took your white ones. The board was mostly empty now. "You were born in a Muslim family. Do you honestly believe your Lord is happy with you because you were born in the right family? Is that the essence of what being a Muslim is?" Salauddin now looked at you but you didnt let your eyes stray away from the chess board. "Are you a Muslim because you were born in a Muslim family? Or were you born in a Muslim family because Allah knew you wouldnt find your way if you werent? If you were born in a catholic family, youd be a catholic? Lets say you are a Muslim, how do you know youre a good enough Muslim who can judge me? How do you know Allah will let you in heaven when youre on Earth declaring so and so is doing magic and isnt a muslim? Only Allah can judge us, not you Salauddin Ayubi." You stated calmly as you made your final move. "Thats checkmate."

You finally looked at him, your eyes holding satisfaction at his distressed face, though he masked it well.

How you wished to reveal to him that he was playing against a grandmaster whose parents made her take chess as a hobby since she was 6 because they believed it would make her smart and get into good colleges (it did. Thanks mom and dad.)

"Salauddin, we can play chess all you want but dont lie to me. You know I wasnt doing magic, and you know that I know that Baldwin wouldnt just leave me behind. So please, tell me, where is Baldwin?" Before he could reply, you continued. "Remember, lying is a sin."

At this, his eyes finally showed amusement. "He's outside, helping the women sew a niqaab for you. He wants to embroidery a flower in or something." You rolled your eyes at that. Of course, leave it to Baldwin to do cute romantic stuff.

Salauddin leaned back in his chair as he studied you. "So, how did you bring the baby back to life?"

"I prayed to Allah." He quirked a brow at you. "I also cleared his nostrils. They were plugged with fluid, so he didnt know or couldnt breathe with his lungs. Then I just warmed up his body a bit and he was crying- the baby was never dead. You know that no one can be saved from Azrael if Allah has written for that person to die."

Angel of death.

He gave you a nod, though his eyes watched you curiously. "How were you so sure that I knew you were a Muslim?"

You shrugged. "I just did." Why wouldnt you know when he was playing chess with you to check your psychology? Not to mention, he allowed you to be covered with a niqaab even when you were unconscious and let you stay in his tent? If he even doubted that you were a non muslim, you more than likely wouldve been treated far badly.

Salauddin chuckled. Of course, youd keep your secrets. "Then you know that as a Muslim woman, you cannot marry anyone of another faith."

"I dont plan on marrying Baldwin." You scoffed. "I already rejected him and have tried to sway his mind, but hes set on his decision. I think he actually believes that Im an angel or something divine."

He quirked a brow at you. "So he's forcing you to marry him?"

"I wouldnt say force- well, actually I would say that. But he doesnt treat me badly or anything. He's very sweet, even when I avoid him."

Salauddin clicked his tongue. "I could help you." You looked at him. "You are a Muslim, a part of the ummah. I could-"

"No. If youre suggesting starting a war, no." "Well, not a war, youre not that important." Damn. He grinned at your offended eyes. "I meant, I could send some people to sneak you out or-"

"No, if Baldwin finds out youre involved in any way in my escape he would-" you cant risk an extra crusade happening because of a damsel in distress, aka you. It would put the fate of Jerusalem at risk as well as the fate of the Ayyubid dynasty.

Wait. Ayyubid dynasty. They ruled over Egypt, Syria, Palestine, Yemen and so on. But Egypt was the learning center of the Islamic world during this time because they focused on arts and education which meant they hosted the world's greatest scholars there.

"Salauddin, can you get me to Egypt?" The king of Egypt, or sultan of Egypt looked at you quizzically. "I can, but why? Do you have family there?"

"What? No, I'm not running away to Egypt. Look, I just-" you cant explain to him about your escape plan that you were going to use the help of scholars to help you make the tools which you can use to fix your broken time machine. So, you lie. "You're someone who enjoys learning, right? I know you like history and sufism, and I would just love to get to know more about it."

With his head resting on his palm, he studied you. You intrigued him, and although he sensed you had ulterior motives, he agreed. "I cant take you there personally because I am busy here, but I could send you there with some trusted men." You smiled under your veil. This is exactly what you want. And almost as if he could sense your glee, he continued. "Your madly-in-love fiance wont send you alone, or at all."

"Let me worry about Baldwin, and he'll agree because I'm not running away. I'll work on my escape another way in which no one has to die." You said, finally standing up and walking out of the tent to find Baldwin who was sitting with the other veiled women, his eyes focused on the needlework.

"Baldwin." You called out with your hands behind your back as you walked upto him.

He looked up and his eyes practically sparkled at the sight of you. "Princess!" He stood up and immediately went to hug you but you stopped him before he could, nodding your head at onlookers. "Oh right, sorry." He smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, ears turning pink as the women giggled.

He then picked up the niqaab he'd been working on, the blue cloth matched the color of his eyes. "Look, I made that flower." There was embroidery done on the sleeves. And of course, amongst the mass of tiny, delicate pink and white flowers, Baldwin made the biggest, slightly wonky flower.

It brought a smile to your lips. Gosh, he's such a-

You shake your head. No. No. You cant.

"Its beautiful, Baldwin. Thank you." He grinned at your praise, nodding his head as he folded it up. Still holding the embroidered niqaab in his hand, he walked over to Salauddin and shook his head. "We should get going now. Thank you for hospitality, Salauddin." The Kurdish nodded. "Of course. You're always welcome. And if you have any more questions about our traditions and rituals, dont hesitate to reach out to me. Although your wife to be seems quite knowledgeable on the subject herself." Your eyes widened every so slightly. Did Salauddin- did he just acknowledge that you're not as dumb as he thought you were.

Baldwin smiled before leading you towards his horse, helping you get on it.

Salauddin watched as your entourage left, and his mouth twitched.

You have piqued my interest, Y/n. He called his right hand man.

"We still have spies in Baldwin's castle, right?" The man confirmed. "Excellent. Have them find out all they can about lady Y/n. And prepare a small entourage ready to go to Egypt."

"Wont we be staying here, sultan?" The man asked, confused as to why Salauddin would be leaving Jerusalem this early.

"We will, but I will make a short trip in between."

Of course, Salauddin cant just let you go to Egypt alone. The sultan will have to make proper arrangements to welcome you there.

And to find out what you're really there for.

He returned to his tent, his eyes landing on the chess board. Walking upto it, he looked at how you had defeated him.

Salauddin smirked, using his finger to knock down the white king.

It'll be fun to make Baldwin jealous.

#yandere king baldwin #yandere male #yandere baldwin #yandere baldwin iv #baldwin iv #king baldwin iv #yandere #kingdom of heaven #the leper king #koh #yandere salauddin #yandere oc #yandere ocs #time traveller au #yandere x darling #yandere x reader

505 notes · View notes

uglyducklingofthe2000s · 2 days

Text

Cat People - LN

Summary: Lando prefers dogs, they match his energy. But his girlfriend has been labelled by friends, family and fans alike as an "orange cat" and with her birthday coming up he's all out of ideas for gifts.

No part 2 requests please

Lando groans as he sits in Max's house.

"I don't know why you're struggling so much, mate. Y/n always says she doesn't want a big deal out of her birthday." Max states though he knows that if P said that then he'd be just as stressed about trying to get it right.

It's not till Max's cat jumps up on the bed next to Lando that he's struck with an idea.

"Y/n loves your cats."

"Ok..." Max frowns not really sure where Lando is going with this.

"I could get her a cat."

"You don't like cats."

"I never said that...I just prefer dogs...but y/n loves cats. All the fans call her an orange cat."

"That doesn't mean you should get her a cat."

"You guys always say she's like an orange cat."

"That's because she has those weird bursts of energy. Like...that time she was just lying there like half asleep, then suddenly she sat up threw a pillow at you and practically ran out the room." Max recalls making Lando grin since y/n actually does that quite a lot. "And she lets every intrusive thought be followed through on."

That's true. Just the other day y/n bit into a new blusher she'd bought because it looked like jelly. There was instant regret and enough wallowing over her own actions that Lando decided to just buy her a new one, really hoping she wouldn't repeat her actions.

"I'm getting her a cat." Lando declares earning a sigh and head shake.

Reasoning with Lando is out the window and he's already invested in the idea. Recruiting Max to aid him despite his comments of how Lando's apartment in Monaco is probably not the best place in the world for a cat.

It took some doing and Lando ended up having to use Max Verstappen's apartment as a hold for the kitten before her birthday. Thankfully the world champion actually knows how to care for cats and did alright to keep the ginger kitten happy.

"Hey, thanks for the help mate." Lando states as Max hands the carrier to him. The ungodly hour of 6AM is unwelcome to both of them but Max is happy to help and Lando had to get the kitten before y/n woke up.

"No it's ok, I hope she loves him. He's very cute." Max smiles earning a smile. "I never thought of you as much of a cat person."

"I'm not...but y/n is." Lando sighs while looking down at the cat. "Probably going to be her soulmate in cat form. Anyway, I'll let you sleep. Thanks again, mate."

"No problem."

And like that he's back with the new cat in tow. He'd been hiding all the cat stuff in his car which he's spent the morning before heading to Max's setting everything up while y/n was still sleeping peacefully.

"Y/n..." Lando whispers wanting to wake y/n up as gently as possible and she does ease from her sleep, groaning and stretching. "Happy birthday baby."

"Thank you..." Y/n smiles earning a grin as he leans down and kisses her. "Oooh...pancakes for breakfast? I-"

Her sentence is cut short by a squeak making her frown.

"What-"

"Close you eyes! I've got a surprise for you." Lando exclaims in a slightly rushed panic since he was hoping the kitten would be quiet till she was a little bit more awake.

"Why? What's-"

"Please."

Y/n sighs covering her eyes while Lando picks the fluffy ginger kitten from the carrier before gently placing him in her lap making her eyes snap open with a gasp.

"Shut up. Stop. You did not!" Y/n exclaims with a gasp picking up the cat with tears very much appearing quickly. "You got me a cat?"

"I wasn't sure what to get you and I figured it'd be on brand."

"The McLaren cat?" Y/n laughs earning a look from him before he laughs.

"No!" Lando laughs though now he's thinking of it, it does make sense. "I mean that works too but all the fans and our friends call you an orange cat because of the way you act."

"Oh. OH!" Y/n gasps making him laugh. "What should we call him?"

"Whatever you want."

"Cats always have weird names don't they?" Y/n hums in thought while seeming to struggle to take her eyes off of the cat who seems equally as immediately attached to y/n as she is to him. "I think...there's only one option really."

"And what would that be?"

"Senna."

Lando's eyebrows raise but he smiles feeling like she really just locked in the fact that she is definitely his soulmate. There really isn't anyone else he could possibly find himself better that y/n.

Y/n looks at Lando with a grin.

"Is that a yes to Senna?"

"I think it's perfect for him." Lando nods with a smile.

It's really stupid to be jealous of a cat, but y/n took all of 10 minutes to be joint at the hip with Senna.

The following week after her birthday Lando found that he wasn't getting quite the affection from y/n he'd become accustom throughout their entire relationship.

He also noticed that actually of the two Senna is the lesser of energetic in general and y/n seems to be the one with random bursts of energy that do in turn trigger little bursts of energy from Senna. And while he's jealous, Lando does have to admit it's kind of cute seeing how the two have seemed to bond over sharing a personality even if Senna is ever so slightly more chilled out.

Although in true cat fashion, he has managed to already smash a glass that he nudged off the kitchen counter.

"Hey, you look so sad over here on your own." Y/n smiles sliding herself into Lando's lap as he sits at his gaming PC, Senna seemingly finally having left her side. "What's wrong? You've been huffing and puffing all day."

"No I haven't."

"Is it because you want some love too?" Y/n whispers reading him like a book. "I'm only cuddling him so much so he knows what to expect when I don't have you around. Anyway, just think of Senna as a trail."

"A trail for what?" Lando frowns making her smile.

"For if the day ever comes that we have a kids." Y/n smiles earning a grin from the driver. "But...if you're jealous of a cat getting attention. Who knows if you could handle a baby."

"Well no, that's-"

"I'm kidding. You're just so easy to wind up." Y/n laughs then kissing him. "But Senna is my first baby and he's just a baby."

"He is." Lando hums then sighing. "He's a pretty chill cat, so I guess it could be worse."

Almost as if he's a paid actor, Senna appears and jumps onto y/n's lap and she smiles as Lando does actually move to stroke the kitten gently.

"I'm just going to have to make sure I give both of my boys all my love and affection. Which is going to be pretty easy because I love you both very much." Y/n smiles feeling Lando kiss her softly.

"Actually I did get some pretty nice pictures of the two of you...and video...can I post them on my other accounts please?" Lando asks earning a smile and nod as Senna starts purring loudly, settling down to lie on the two of them. "He's my baby too for the record."

"Good. Because I actually think he loves you just as much as me." Y/n smiles pulling her phone out and revealing her lock screen as a picture of Senna curled up, nuzzled in Lando's neck, on top of his shoulder as he sleeps in their bed. "If you're sharing pictures and videos of me and Senna, can I share this?"

"Yes. Definitely."

"Good, before I have another one of him just curled up on your chest."

874 notes · View notes

fyorina · 1 day

Text

ᡣ𐭩 DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: seven months after his defection, you run into dazai osamu by sheer chance. you know in your heart what you should do—traitors are to be disposed of, regardless of any previous relationship you might've had with them... but can you bring yourself to do what must be done? or will you be more driven by the questions you desperately need answered?

(wordcount: 7.1k; fem!reader, pm!reader, angsty (i promiseeeee i have some happier ones coming up with pm!reader and pmzai), alcoholism, dazai is in a particularly bad mental state)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: this one was suchhhh a doozy. the third installment of my pm!reader & pm!dazai universe, this is why i had to retcon he's my collar because originally pm!reader didn't see him at all during the 4 years but i got the idea for this fic like 2 ?? weeks ago and it was too good to not use - tomorrow i think i'll put up the masterlist for it so you guys can see the chronology and planned installments

Against all odds, you run into Dazai Osamu seven months after his defection.

You should put a bullet in his skull. You watch absently from the mouth of the alley as the ex-Port Mafia executive groans, trying to push himself to his feet only to crash back onto the pavement, blood smeared across his face from a crooked nose and split lip, bile pooled on the ground where he’d landed.

Gross, you think, lip curling up in disgust as his lithe fingers smear through the vomit, blunt nails scraping against the pavement as he attempts to push himself up again but fails. His shoulders are heaving, breath slow and labored as he lets out another wretched sound, crumpling back to the ground.

You click the safety off of your gun, pulling it out of your pocket as you quietly make your way deeper into the alley, over to where he’s still struggling to get off the ground. He doesn’t even acknowledge your presence until he hits the ground hard again after nearly making it to his feet. This time, he falls onto his shoulder and gasps in pain as he rolls onto his back, blinking up blearily through glazed-over eyes that can hardly focus on you or the gun pointed at his head.

You should just get it over with, pull the trigger, and leave the body for cleanup to handle. It’d be a better fate than he deserves, cleaner and quicker than he’d ever give himself, and not even half as painful as it’ll be when the Port Mafia inevitably get their hands back on him.

You’d be sparing him, really; it would be a mercy.

And it’s what is expected of you. Letting a traitor as high profile as Dazai Osamu go free when you have a clear chance to execute him would be more than enough to have you stripped of your rank and thrown into the torture chambers, body dumped in the river when the Port Mafia is done punishing you.

But still, for some reason, your finger hesitates as you move to pull the trigger.

“You…” His voice is so slurred that you can hardly make out coherent words, but you use his words as an excuse to bide even more time, curious to see what he’s going to say. You can smell the whiskey on him from where you’re standing, his skin is paler than it usually is, and you notice, idly, that the bandages on his right eye are gone and you wonder when he chose to shed them. “You’re not real.”

Your eye twitches in irritation.

You pull the trigger.

If he was sober, he would have expected the reaction from you and dodged the bullet, but he’s not sober, so his eyes fly open in shock as the bullet grazes his ear and embeds itself in the pavement next to his head. He doesn’t look any more sobered up by the pain, which you suppose is a testament to how drunk he really is, but he does look significantly more confused.

“You shot me,” he says, pale lips parted as he stares up at you—too pale, you notice absently, brows furrowing a bit as you try to consider what to do.

“Yeah,” you say, voice rough with irritation. “Real enough for you?”

Dazai blinks, you don’t even think your words are registering and you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing.

Get it over with, you tell yourself again, this time positioning your gun over his forehead. A clean kill. You won’t move it to the side at the last minute again. You remind yourself that this is what he deserves—he’s a traitor to the Port Mafia, to you. Killing him now would be a mercy compared to what the Port Mafia would do to him, compared to what he’d do to himself.

He stares up at you, brown eyes wide and glassy. He parts his lips to speak but you can’t give yourself the same excuse; you don’t wait for his words this time.

You pull the trigger again.

But Dazai is moving. He rolls over onto his side trying to push himself back to his feet and the bullet lodges right into the ground where his head had once been lying. You stare down at it in disbelief, gun falling to your side as your fingers start to feel a bit numb and clunky, breath catching as you realize what you’d almost just done—what you tried to do.

Dazai makes it to his knees and he tries to reach out for you but you step back out of reach. His brows furrow before he keels over again, dry heaving now—there’s enough bile around him for you to realize he’s probably thrown up everything in his stomach and then some. He leans against the wall, the glassiness of his eyes spilling over his cheeks as he continues to dry heave but your gaze is still trained down on the ground where the bullet is embedded in the ground where his head had just been laying.

You just tried to-

You think you’re the one who feels sick now. The dinner you’d had out with Chuuya and Kouyou rises to the back of your throat as you take another step away from Dazai. Your vision blurs as your gaze turns to him again, but instead of the tattered and vomit-stained clothes he’s wearing now, he’s back in the dark suit you’re accustomed to, crumpled on the ground still, but not because he’s drunk because he’s been wounded on a mission that he took on so you wouldn’t have to.

You just tried to kill Dazai.

Dazai, who’s been your closest friend since the two of you were sixteen and at the center of the most violent conflict to rock Yokohama’s foundations. Entirely inseparable, forever entwined since the moment the two of you met; the type of instant click that most people could only ever dream of experiencing in their lives.

You almost killed Dazai.

Dazai, who promised to put a bullet in Ace’s head if the man ever came near you again after he found out the newly promoted executive had insinuated putting one of his collars on you during a confrontation between the two of you. He knew that even he would face consequences for threatening another executive, that he would face even more if he dared to follow through with his threat, but he didn’t care and he had every intention of following through if it meant keeping you safe.

You would have killed Dazai if not for sheer luck.

Dazai, who used to kiss you with trembling fingers and quivering lips, because for as much as his reputation as the Demon Prodigy had spread throughout the country, he was still just a teenage boy who’d never had his first kiss until the two of you got drunk on champagne after a successful mission when he made the mistake of admitting to you that he’s never kissed anyone before. The two of you’d spent the entire night giggling between chaste kisses, getting through just about two bottles of champagne before you started throwing up.

He held back your hair and laughed at you as you leaned over the toilet, miserable. But he was gentle with you in a way that Dazai Osamu is never gentle with anyone, fingers carding through your hair, rubbing absent circles on your back to soothe you as you choked over sobs and gags.

Then there’s you. You, who not only a moment ago, looked down at him with your lip curling up in disgust, unable to hold your grimace at the way he laid in his own vomit. You lifted the barrel of your gun in his direction not once, but twice, and you pulled the trigger not once, but twice.

When you showed vulnerability to him, he showed you a type of tenderness that everyone thought was long lost to the notorious Demon Prodigy.

When he finally shows vulnerability to you, you only show him cruelty in response.

You try to convince yourself that it’s different, that the circumstances are different now but the words ring hollow in your head, taking no root, because you think the circumstances shouldn't matter. This is Dazai. Dazai. There are no circumstances that justify executing him.

Your head spins and you take another step away, you don’t know where you dropped your gun and you don’t want to know. You don’t want to look at it. You don’t want to touch it. You’ll send someone else after it later. You blink, and for a moment, you can visualize what almost happened: you can see Dazai motionless on the ground, blood pooling around his head and a bullet wound piercing through his forehead. You gag, pressing your hand to your mouth as you force back the bile that nearly comes up.

“Wait,” Dazai garbles out, pushing off the wall toward you but he propels himself right into the ground again, face first, scraping his cheek on the concrete. “Don’t leave again.”

Again? The word nearly pulls you out of your daze, the bitterness that’s poisoned you for seven months returning with a vengeance as your eyes focus on him.

Dazai, who left you without a word or a warning. Not even the slightest goodbye. He abandoned you like you meant nothing to him.

“I need to-” he gags again as he pushes himself to his knees. He tries to reach forward again but his whole body sways, eyes half-rolling back as he tries to steady himself, on the verge of passing out. “I need to tell you this time. I need to-”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, slumping back over onto the ground unconscious—in a puddle of his own blood and vomit, naturally. The logical part of you knows you should just leave him there. You’re already playing with fire by not executing him on the spot, but you also know if you leave him here, it’ll be as good as a death sentence. If he doesn’t die on his own from alcohol poisoning, then he’ll certainly be found by the Port Mafia patrols. You think Dazai is a fool for drinking so much so deep in Port Mafia territory, for not being careful enough to make sure he didn’t wander out in the open.

He should know better.

He does know better.

A part of you wonders if it was intentional, if he thought that he’d stumble into Port Mafia territory and he’d run into someone eager to lay claim to the fame of being Dazai Osamu’s executioner.

If that’s the case, he nearly got his wish—that thought alone almost sends you spiraling over the edge again, having to shove away more nausea. You force all thoughts of the Port Mafia and betrayal to the back of your mind as you fall to your knees next to him, gathering him up into your arms and pushing yourself back to your feet. He curls into you instinctively, even while unconscious, smaller than you remember, smearing blood and bile all over your suit. Your grip on him tightens, a shaky breath escaping your lips when you realize that this is the first time you’ve touched him since the night he left.

You shake your head to clear your mind, desperately trying to focus. You can’t stay out in the open with him for long otherwise you’ll risk someone seeing you with him, and that’ll open a can of worms you’re not prepared to deal with.

You’ll drop him off somewhere safe, and then you’ll get back to base.

That’s all.

That is not all.

The safehouse in Sakae that the two of you would run to whenever you wanted to avoid Mori is just how you left it the last time you spent the night with him there over half a year ago. One of his jackets is still draped over the couch, one of your ties thrown haphazardly on the ground—you remember the night vividly, the way he smiled against your lips as he lead you into the back bedroom, stumbling over each other and fumbling with buttons as you tried to undress the other while walking to the room, high off the success of a mission that everyone had said would fail because the odds were so stacked against the two of you. Even Chuuya had laughed in your face when you said you’d take the mission, but you knew so long as Dazai had your back on it, it would work out in your favor.

He’s woken up several times, you don’t even know what he’s saying in his incoherent babbles. Every time he wakes back up, he’s calling for you, stumbling out of the bed you laid him in after getting him cleaned up and crashing to the ground before he reaches the hall. It’s irritating, you have to go back to help him back into the bed every time and he starts babbling again, passing out before you can figure out what he’s saying. You finally had to move yourself into the back bedroom with him so he didn’t try to get up again.

You don’t know why you’re still here.

You lean your forehead against your hand as you sit on the bed next to where he’s lying, one leg tucked beneath you while the other hangs over the side. You tell yourself it’s because you don’t want him to get up drunk trying to look for you and then crack his head open, but it’s a weak excuse because Dazai Osamu is not your issue anymore. It’s not your job to watch over him when he gets shit-faced drunk, it’s not your job to patch him up when he gets hurt, it’s not your job to look out for him.

He left you, not vice versa, You don’t owe him anything. He lost that privilege when he betrayed you. Fuck the Port Mafia, he betrayed you when he left without a word. You deserved better than that. You deserved a goodbye. You don’t owe him shit. You should leave him here to rot in his own vomit and blood but-

But you won’t.

Your gaze drifts back over to him. He’s still out cold—cleaner now, because it had never just been ‘get him somewhere safe and then go back to the base,’ as soon as you got him into the safehouse you wrangled him into the bathroom to clean him up. He was uncharacteristically pliant as you manhandled him into the shower. You suppose it was because he was unconscious for half of it but even for the moments where he was awake and blearily blinking the water out of his eyes, looking up at you through wet bangs with those stupid big eyes of his, as if he was still unsure if you were actually there.

Instinctively, you reach out to brush the back of your knuckles against his swollen, split lip, wondering if it was just from him being clumsy while drunk or if he’d managed to piss someone off at a bar. Both are equally likely—Dazai is a rather cantankerous drunk when he’s alone and drunk on whiskey, and even after cleaning him up and dousing him in soap to get out the reeking scent of his vomit out from where it’d sunken into his skin, shoving a toothbrush into his mouth to brush his teeth and scrubbing so they don’t rot from the bile, you can still smell the whiskey on his breath.

You wonder how much he drank. His skin is still pale, his breath shuddered, and he’s shivering even though you wrapped him in three thick blankets. Some degree of alcohol poisoning, that’s for sure. You tell yourself that’s why you’re not leaving—you don’t want to leave before you’re sure he’s pulled through the worst of it. You’re not going to admit to yourself that you don’t want to leave because you’re worried it’ll be the last time you see him for real this time.

You hesitate right before your knuckles brush his skin, swallowing thickly before you withdraw your hand back into your lap, eyes sliding shut as you sigh.

What the hell are you doing?

If anyone from the Port Mafia knew what you were doing right now, you’d be hunted down right alongside him, branded as a traitor and sentenced to death. Chuuya would kill you if he knew what you were doing right now—and not because you betrayed the Port Mafia by helping Dazai, instead because you’re a fucking idiot. You’ve done a lot of stupid things in your life, but this might take the cake for the stupidest, sticking your neck out for someone who didn’t even care enough to tell you goodbye.

You rub your forehead, tired. You try to summon the anger you felt when you first found out he betrayed the Port Mafia from Mori and Chuuya—from the hot fury you felt in the direct aftermath, screaming and breaking everything you could get your hands on as you cursed his name and burned everything he left in your apartment to the cold rage you felt when you finally calmed down, bitter and lonely and betrayed by the one person you never thought would betray you—but you can’t. And you think it’s pathetic because what use is all of that anger if you can’t utilize it when the reason for it is lying right before you?

If Chuuya were here right now, he’d drag you out by the hair and leave Dazai to suffer on his own. You left your phone in the kitchen after turning off your location, because he was already buzzing incessantly wondering where you are. You’d told him that you wanted to stop by one of the fishing ports in Kanazawa to check on a small weapons shipment that should’ve arrived earlier in the night before heading back to your shared apartment—you’d moved in with him after Dazai’s betrayal. He made the executive decision himself, not giving you a choice in the matter because he realized that you living on your own in the apartment that Dazai had practically moved into with you was not conducive to you healing from his betrayal.

Plus, you think he was lonely too without Dazai around anymore, but he’d never admit that.

You should’ve been back an hour ago. You’re sure that he’s getting suspicious and it’s only a matter of time before he tries to track you down. You don’t think he knows about this safe house in particular, Dazai had threatened you with piling up mission reports onto you if you told him about this one, but you wouldn’t be surprised if Chuuya learned about it through other means—somehow, he always seems to know everything.

You sigh again, heavier this time as you try to figure out what to do. You know what you should do, but you also know you’re not going to do that. Your gaze drags back over to him and your breath catches when you realize he’s awake again, bleary brown eyes trained on you, brows furrowed.

His lips part to speak again and you tense, waiting for whatever he has to say, unsure if you’ll even understand it.

“You… came with me. You never come with me. Are you… really here?”

Even though his eyes are still glazed over and muddled, his voice is less garbled than it was before. You think that’s a good sign, but even so, you let out an even heavier sigh, this one more irritated, and a bit confused because you don’t even know what that means: you never come with me.

“Yes, Dazai,” you say sharply, but then you let out a puff of air. The same memories that hit you before coming right back to you, remembering all of the nights Dazai would stay up having to take care of you, patient in a way that he never was with anybody. You soften your voice a bit as you say, “Yes. I’m here.”

Dazai looks at you like he doesn’t believe you. He blinks once slowly, then his brows furrow deeper and his lips turn downward.

“You don’t call me Dazai.” He speaks the accusation slowly, as if to make himself sound more coherent, but you can still hear the clear slur in his voice. “You never-”

You turn away because if you don’t, you think you might lose your temper. He’s drunk, you remind yourself, but he’s still ripping open wounds that never properly healed, because how dare he expect you to still call him by his given name after everything. It had taken months for you to get used to calling him Dazai again and-

You feel your chest start to cave in again and your throat spasms. Your eyes flutter shut and god, you want to hate him. You thought you did hate him, you convinced yourself of it in all of the bitter rage and acidic betrayal you’ve felt the past seven months but now that you’re confronted with him again, you know that it was never hate. You could never hate Dazai Osamu. You'd just missed him so terribly that the pain was easy to mistake as hate; love and hate has always been a treacherously thin line, and Dazai more than anyone else wavers on either side of it.

Your heart feels like it’s about to leap from your chest and crawl right back to him, you have to physically place your hand over your chest as if to hold it in place, to make sure the traitorous thing can’t go back to the very man that tore it shreds. You force yourself to breathe, in and out, steady, trying to settle down.

This was a mistake, you realize, this was a mistake.

Just as you’re about to push yourself up, you feel lithe fingers curl around your arm. You freeze, not even daring to glance back at Dazai. You can hear him pushing the covers off of him as he crawls closer to you, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. His movements are unsteady, and you can’t bring yourself to push him off of you when you feel him slump against your back.

His weight is familiar, comforting in a way that it shouldn’t be. If you close your eyes, you can imagine that you’re back at the Port Mafia base seven months ago and Dazai is draping himself across your back, complaining about being overworked by Mori and trying to convince you to take over his paperwork. You’d have to drag him halfway across the base trying to get to your office with his dead weight hanging onto you, you remember all of the wary stares from your subordinates as they try not to let their gaze linger on the two of you but let their curiosity get the best of them regardless.

You hate that you don’t push him off right away, that you’re letting yourself indulge in his touch again. You’ve moved on from this—from him. It’s been seven months. You’re over all of this.

“You… understand, don’t you?”

You barely hear the words muffled against your back, but you do and you can’t help but stiffen at them. He shifts against you, fingers biting into your skin as he pulls himself up a bit more to bury his face in the crook of your neck, arms looped around your waist as he leans all of his weight onto your back. You can feel his breath warm and shuddered against your neck, making your hair stand on end, and his hands are limp in your lap now, fingers brushing against the material of the clean slacks you’d pulled on after getting Dazai showered.

It’s all so familiar that it could make you sick.

“How could I?” you ask bitterly, even though you know you shouldn’t take out your resentment on him while he’s so drunk; he probably won’t remember any of this in the morning anyway. There’s no point, you’ll just be wasting your energy.

His arms tighten around you, breath hitching against your skin. “I had to, Odasaku-”

The noise you let out is such a sharp scoff that you can feel Dazai flinch behind you. You almost shove him off of you but you refrain, taking in a deep breath to calm yourself down. You never really had any feelings about Odasaku—he was always just there, you heard about him from Dazai occasionally and he seemed pleasant enough the few times you encountered him—but after all of this, you can’t help but hold a grudge against him, irrationally blaming him for Dazai leaving you.

“Odasaku wasn’t your only friend,” you say tightly. “You had me. Chuuya. You-”

“It’s not the same,” Dazai protests, clinging to you as if he hadn’t just driven a knife right through your back into your heart.

This time you do shove him off, barely sparing him a glance as he lets out a surprised yelp, sprawling back onto the bed. You push away the mistiness that threatens your eyes, breathing in and out slowly to try to keep yourself calm. It’s not the same, you repeat his words, bitterness poisoning your blood and clouding your head. What the fuck does that even mean? You know logically you should take his words with a grain of salt, that he’s so drunk he probably doesn’t even know what he’s saying, but you just feel so angry that it’s hard for you to keep that in mind.

You hear him scrambling behind you: a thump as he hits the floor hard and then a rush of movement as he pushes himself to his knees. His fingers curl around your ankle before you can get further away and you have a half a mind to kick him off of you and leave.

You don’t.

“Don’t leave,” he pleads. He drags himself to his knees, pulling at your pants and it takes all of your self-control to not look back down at him. “I didn’t-it came out wrong. I didn't mean it like that.”

“How did you mean it then?” you ask him, even though you by all means should not even bother to hear his shitty explanation.

“I just-I didn’t mean it like that.” You’ve never heard Dazai’s voice crack before, but it does now. “Don’t leave. I miss you.”

“You miss me?” you spit out, and you finally turn to look down at him—a mistake, of course, because he’s on his knees in front of you, looking up at you with those stupid, big brown eyes and you almost let your anger fizzle away at the sight of it. He’s drunk, you remind yourself again, but it doesn’t stop you from snapping at him. “You left me, Dazai. You have no right to miss me.”

“But I do.” His fingers fumble for your hand, grabbing one of yours with both of his. “I miss you so much, I think about you all the time.”

His lashes flutter, fingers brushing along your forearm as he presses his lips to your knuckles and then to your pulse point before leaning forward to rest his forehead on your thigh. You can’t even look at him, keeping your eyes trained on the wall, because your lashes feel wet and heavy and you know that you’ll give into him if you look at him now and he doesn’t deserve that.

“I couldn’t go to you before I left,” Dazai whispers and he sounds oddly coherent now even though you know he’s not. “I would’ve asked you to come with me.”

For some reason, that hurts worse than if he’d just admitted he didn’t care enough to say goodbye. Because what does that even mean, I would’ve asked you to come with me, would that have been so bad? He didn’t want you with him? Why wouldn’t he have wanted you with him? If you had left, he would’ve been the first person you ran to, begging him to come with you.

“How terrible that would’ve been,” you say, and you’re proud that your voice remains cold and steady, not betraying the hurt ripping through your chest.

“I wouldn’t have been able to handle it,” he says, voice breaking over a hiccup. “Odasaku had just died and-”

He cuts himself, and you dare to look down at him when you feel him lift his face from your thigh. You regret it immediately. Glassy, glazed-over eyes beg for you to understand, and you scare yourself because you want to understand when he shouldn’t even matter to you anymore. You’ve moved on. You have. It’s been seven months. He left you without a word. So why do you care so much for what he has to say right now?

“You wouldn’t have come with me,” he says, shaking his head. “You would’ve said no. You never would have chosen me over the Mafia.”

Your lips part to deny the allegations, to say that of course, you would have come with him, but the words fizzle out before they even form on your tongue because-

“You can’t even bring yourself to deny it, can you?” Dazai asks, and although he sounds more cogent now, you can’t help but notice that he’s starting to look sick again, the back of his throat making that faint clicking sound it always makes when he’s about to throw up. “You never would have chosen me.”

You would choose Dazai Osamu over a lot of things. You would choose to save his life before yours if put in the position, and you would choose to trust him over anyone else in the whole world. You’d follow him to the depths of hell and deep into the shadows, until your blood is black and corrupted and you’re entirely irredeemable, but you can’t follow him into the light.

You can’t choose him if it means betraying the Port Mafia. With his defection, the two have become mutually exclusive: Dazai or the Port Mafia, there’s no way of having both anymore. The boy you’ve come to love or the only home you’ve ever known. The only family you’ve ever had. A shitty family maybe, but a family nonetheless. If you don’t belong with the Port Mafia, you don’t belong anywhere on this earth, and as someone who’s always had a desperate fear of alienation, the thought makes you sick.

You stare at him, throat tight, and then you say, colder than you intend for it to come across, “... If that’s really why you didn’t say goodbye, then I’m glad you didn’t put me in that position.”

The expression that crosses Dazai’s face is something caught between ruin and shock—and you can’t help but wonder if he held out hope, thinking maybe he was wrong in his assumptions. That there had been a chance that you might’ve chosen him if he’d given you the option. That he’s been living his life in the what-ifs for the past seven months and now that he’s finally gotten the chance to bare his heart to you, you’ve crushed it.

Your chest tightens, your throat spasms and it takes all your self-control to not immediately take back the words, regret flooding you so intensely that it nearly makes you physically stumble. Because it’s true, you never would have picked Dazai over the Mafia, but he didn’t have to know that—especially not now, when he’s drunk and vulnerable in a way that he’s never allowed himself to be before.

You hope, for his sake and your conscience, that he doesn’t remember any of this in the morning.

His lips part to respond again but his hand is flying to his mouth instantly, doubling over, and you’re cursing, reaching for the trash bin you’d brought into the bedroom and falling to your knees next to him, helping him kneel upright and holding the trash bin in front of him as he starts gagging again.

“I would’ve-” He’s still trying to talk through the bouts of nausea, gasping over air, body trembling as he leans into you for balance.

You don’t want to hear what he has to say.

“Dazai-”

“I would’ve chosen you,” he finally forced out, voice breaking over the words and you’re not sure if it’s a sob or another heave that escapes his lips as he continues. “If the positions were reversed, I would’ve chosen you.”

Oh.

The words echo in your head so loudly that it makes you want to cover your ears even though you know it won’t do anything. You want to accuse him of lying, tell him that he’s full of shit and just trying to make you feel guilty, but you don’t think he’s capable of lying right now and you don’t think this is anything Dazai would have ever admitted to you if he was sober. He guards his heart more carefully than anyone you’ve ever met—in the two and a half years you’d known him, he never admitted he cared about you. You knew it just from how he treated you, but you think he might’ve ripped his own tongue out before actually admitting it.

You wrap an arm around him as his whole body shudders through another gag and he tries to push you off—angry, upset, you don’t know what he might be feeling because you’ve never seen him like this before—but your arm only tightens around him and Dazai crumbles.

He heaves again, clutching the small garbage can to his face as he throws up all of the water you’d managed to get in him before he passed out earlier. Tears spill over his cheeks, his face is pale and his lashes are fluttering again, on the verge of passing back out. You swallow thickly as he leans into you, letting him collapse into your chest after he’s finished vomiting.

“Will-” he tries to say, but his voice is slurred and weak. He’s desperately trying to stay conscious, you can tell, but he’s fighting a losing battle. “Will you be here in the morning?”

No.

You don’t want to say it, you think you’ve done enough damage for the night, but there’s no need. As soon as the words leave his mouth, Dazai is slumping over unconscious, head laying limp on your arm, lashes brushing his cheek. You sigh as your grip around him tightens before you adjust him in his arms to carry him back into the bed, laying him comfortably beneath the covers.

You don’t linger for long after that. After another hour or two passes and Dazai doesn’t wake up again, you make your way back into the bedroom, raising your hand to his face to brush away the dark locks in his eyes before cupping his cheek. Even in his sleep, he leans into your touch, and it makes your chest feel so agonizingly tight that you think you might be having a heart attack.

You lean down to press your lips to his forehead, to his nose, and then to his lips, indulging yourself one last time. Your forehead rests against his as you consider your words—there are a million things you’d like to say to him before you leave, but you don’t have nearly enough time to get them all off of your chest.

Instead, you tell him softly, “I hope you don’t remember any of this in the morning.” You don’t move your hand from where it’s caressing his cheek as you stand straight again, thumb drawing absent circles on his skin. Your voice is thick with emotion, eyes welling with tears that don’t spill over. “We’ll meet again one day.”

Dazai wakes up the next morning with a hangover so bad that he thinks he might die.

He sits up in bed and is instantly groaning, hand flying to his forehead as his brain throbs inside of his skull. He needs to figure out where he is—the last thing he remembers is…

The bar?

His eyes slide shut as he tries to think, but it only makes his head hurt more. He flops back onto the bed, arms splayed out. He still feels nauseous, he can feel it rising to his throat and he desperately does not want to throw up again—it’s one thing vomiting when he’s too drunk to remember, it’s an entirely different thing to vomit while he’s sober and conscious.

Dazai thinks he might rather die.

He lets out a heavy sigh as he begs the nausea to go away, breathing in and out deeply. He lifts his hand to brush a lock of hair away from where it’s tickling his ear and-

Ouch.

Dazai’s eyes fly open again, confused now, as he rips his hand away from where he’d touched his ear to stare up at the ceiling. He’s used to waking up with odd injuries after a night of blacking out at whatever bar will still have him, but his ear is a particularly strange place to be wounded, isn’t it?

Driven by curiosity now, he forces himself into a sitting position, and it’s only when he pushes himself out of bed, does he finally start to recognize the room he’s in. His lips part in a distinct mixture of shock and confusion as he looks around the room slowly, making his way over to the mirror.

The safehouse in Sakae?

His chest feels heavier instantly, and a tight feeling rises to his throat as he catches sight of an old jacket of yours draped on the desk chair, the one that had ripped during the last mission you went on together—just the way you left it the last time the two of you were here. A pair of his old dress shoes are lying haphazardly outside the closet door, he’s sure that if he peeks into the closet, all of your suits will be hanging there because you refused to share the closet with him so all of his spares are stuffed in the dresser. Dazai suddenly feels sick again and he doubts it’s from the hangover this time.

How did he get here?

He needs another drink desperately.

But first… Dazai leans over the dresser to look into the mirror—a bit dusty after so many months with no one stopping in—he lifts his hand to brush his hair behind and then-

What?

His jaw drops and his brows furrow, his fingers graze over where the top of his ear used to be, only to find the whole upper quarter of it missing.

What the fuck? He mouths as he stares at the missing cartilage, and then he looks back around the room, and just as his eyes catch a trash bin that should be in the bathroom, his vision blurs, and his head is aching. He’s suddenly stumbling down an alley, he’s lying in a puddle of his own vomit, unable to stand up straight. He can hear someone approaching and he knows he should get up, find some dumpster or crevice to wait out the night until he’s sober enough to get the fuck out of the heart of the Mafia’s territory in Yokohama, but he can hardly move.

He can lift his head from the pavement just enough to-

Just enough to see you.

Dazai can hardly cope with the emotions that rattle his chest. Longing, because he’s missed you so terribly the past seven months. Disbelief, because you shot his fucking ear off. And… and Dazai isn’t quite sure what the other emotions are. They’re heavy and light at the same time, his chest feels bubbly but his ankles feel chained—it’s a weird mixture of hope and dread, he thinks, because the safehouse is eerily quiet, seemingly void of any life other than Dazai himself, but the chance that you might still be here…

“Will you be here in the morning?”

The faint memory of the last words he spoke before he passed out the last time rings through his head, and his feet drag against the ground as he forces himself to move from the bedroom into the main room of the safe house. His fingers hesitate against the wood of the door—scared that he’s going to open it and you won't be there, scared that he’s going to open it and you will be there. He doesn’t remember the things he said to you last night, but he knows that he’d been staring at old pictures the two of you took before he blacked out. He can hardly imagine the things he might’ve said to you when given the chance.

It takes all of his strength and all of his willpower to push open the door.

It takes even more to actually step out of the bedroom.

The safe house is empty.

You’re nowhere to be found.

Dazai’s feet are moving before he’s fully even registered what’s happening.

He makes his way into the kitchen to rummage around for another bottle for him to drown away his sorrows, but he doesn’t pull out the untouched bottle of his favorite whiskey he knows is sitting in the cabinet—he goes straight for the wine fridge. He nearly shatters three bottles of whites before he finally gets his hands on your favorite red, the one you’d asked him to stock up in there for you three days before he left, knowing that the two of you had a mission coming up and you’d be celebrating here, as always. Not knowing that he’d have betrayed you by then.

He struggles to uncork it, the frustration causing his headache to return with a vengeance. It takes an embarrassingly long amount of time for him to finally get the bottle open, but when he does, he brings it to his lips immediately, eyes sliding shut as he downs a few generous gulps.

The taste is familiar. Pleasant. It makes his heart ache with such an intense longing for you that it nearly makes him throw up.

He can almost imagine that he’s tasting it off of your lips instead.

He leans over the counter, elbows digging into the marble as he tries to push away the ugly feelings ripping apart his chest. He can’t. He never can. He hasn’t been able to since the day he left you behind seven months ago. He can only numb it.

With a hand closed around the neck of the bottle, Dazai slides down the cabinet to sit on the ground. His cheeks feel wet, but he doesn’t dare lift his hand to acknowledge the tears sliding down them.

Instead, he lifts the bottle to his lips again and drowns himself in the memories of you for another night.

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #dazai angst #bsd angst #bungo stray dogs angst

199 notes · View notes

beamiesbuddies · 3 days

Text

Part 2: A Dream of an Autumn Garden

A few more photos of Mr. Morpheus, continuing from my post here!

As I said on the other photoset, I'm very happy & proud of him! I'm happy I decided to take my time to get him just how I wanted & edit the photos I took nicely. I hope you all love him too. Sweet dreams~

I have included a bunch of Cool Facts about how I made him under the cut if you are so inclined!

Started: Late Jan 2022 / Finished: Dec 30 2022

Approx work hours- 273 hours (worked on average every 3rd day out of 274 days; averaged 3h/session)

Times I remade something because I messed it up/wasn't happy with it: Hands- 2; Feet- 2; Head- 2.5; Body- 1; Clothes: 3

Pattern: trial, error & determination

Height: 3ft tall

Materials:

stretch jersey knit (body)

polyfill (stuffing)

brushed out acrylic yarn (hair)

star sapphire x2 (eyes)

pipe cleaner (hand armature)

wooden dowels/18 gauge wire (elbow/arm skeleton that keeps snapping I may add)

acrylic paint/pastels (shading & details)

acrylic thread (body sculpting & upper eyelashes)

stretch velvet/velvet burnout, cotton (clothes)

Fun facts:

his look was inspired by his overall appearance in the comics; I particularily like the depictions done by Jill Thompson, Mike Dringenberg & Marc Hempel!

his arms and legs are jointed in the same way as many teddy bears are: you use a washer, nut & bolt to butt-up the limb against the body internally and it gives the limbs full rotation. First time I have tried the method and it's definitely something I'll try again!

I had no idea how I was going to do the inset eyes, but I was determined to have them as some sort of stone. I had to redo his first head completely because I cut too far in! Eventually I got it to work by creating a "backcushion" with clay for the stones, and then closed and sculpted the eyelids overtop to secure them in.

You can't see in most of my photos but his eyes are star sapphire: when light hits them correctly, it causes a ✨to appear just like his eyes in the comics~!

making his hand & feet were a challenge, especially thinking about where to put the needle through to sculpt tendons, nails, etc (and also deciding how detailed to get without looking strange). I think I learned a lot tho and I'm very proud of the hands

my favorite sculpted parts are the collar bone/chest, the right hand & the nose~

because the skin is white, he gets very dirty with his black clothes, so I had to line all of them in white. He also has to soak in bleach once in a while to maintain his complexion (LOL)

A signature somehwere on his person xD

Thank you all again for your nice tags & comments so far on my work. If you guys would like for me to share some behind the scenes photos of this photoshoot, or WIP photos of me making him, let me know and if there's enough interest maybe I'll make a post down the road!

#the sandman #dream of the endless #dolls #beamies buddies #thank you all so much again for viewing him with your eyeballs! i can now rest #cloth dolls #custom dolls #crafts #also if you happen to have any questions about how i made anything feel free to send an ask!

127 notes · View notes

nightingalescall · 3 days

Text

Prelude to Pandemonium

Kingdom of Ebreau:

prologue|part 1|part 2(you are here)

"I can't breathe, Zephyr..."

You panted as you posed for the ending, your legs trembling beneath you from the exhaustion and the lack of oxygen. You've been repeating this sequence for the past several days but it just doesn't get easier, not with your access to air hindered.

Zephyr sighed, his eyes closed. "I'm sorry, Lady (y/n) but this is standard protocol." You went back to standing normally as you lifted up your veil, revealing your sweat-filled face.

"How... How did you do this without fainting?" You expressed your confusion and astonishment at Zephyr as you tried to catch your breath. Zephyr walked closer, his hand holding a towel before using it to wipe your sweat away. "I struggled just as much as you did, Lady (y/n). In fact, you're doing much better than I did in the past." He smiled reassuringly.

"You're not saying that just to comfort me, are you?" You questioned skeptically as you took the glass of water he handed you before taking a sip. "It's the truth." Zephyr reassured, patting your head.

You nodded and handed him back the glass, believing him. "It's just...So hard to breathe with this on and dance at the same time." You complained under your breath. Zephyr reached towards your hair and took off the veil. He fiddled with the fabric in his hands, appearing to be thinking.

"...I'll get someone to make some last minutes modifications." He finally said after some silence. "Is there enough time? The ceremony is tomorrow night." You knitted your eyebrows together, unsure about his suggestion.

Tomorrow night, you will meet with the Royal family of Ebreau for the first time. From what Zephyr told you, you will be given a ceremony similar to the ones they hold for the initiation of newly appointed saints to celebrate your arrival in Ebreau. At the same time, it will serve as your debut to the public eyes. During the ceremony, the Royal family will give you their blessings as a welcoming to the kingdom. Then, they will impart to you their hopes for further collaborations. In response, instead of words, you will perform the Dance of Resonare Auream to answer their call.

According to Zephyr, the Dance of Resonare Auream replicates the movements of high priests from ancient times when they performed rituals to initiate a connection with Calerus in order to seek answers from him. Their movements during these rituals were modified and implemented into this dance. The Dance of Resonare Auream is only performed by saints during their ceremonies as a way to pledge allegiance to the Royal family and symbolises a saint's role as a bridge between the divine and the mortal world.

Being the saint of the temple of Sonnet, it comes without saying that Zephyr also performed this dance at his initiation years ago. Although there are some differences between the male and female counterparts, it's still mostly the same so Zephyr became your temporary mentor and guided you though the dancesteps. The dance wasn't hard in terms of its steps, simple but still elegant and graceful. The difficulty came from the odd tempo of the dance music. It would pick up and slow down suddenly at times, not to mention there are pauses in the music which needed you to count the tempo so you wouldn't come in late or early.

The added on challenge of having to do all that with a veil on was not fun, to say the least. All you've been doing the past week or so was trying to perfect these steps and making sure you were on beat while also ensuring you don't faint during the dance. The ceremony tomorrow night was opened to all citizens to attend. Thousands of eyes will be on you then and you don't intend on making a fool of yourself. What would the people think of their Messiah if you did?

The pressure was on. You needed to do well.

You sighed internally.

If only the veil wasn't part of the standard ceremonial uniform... It'll be one less thing to worry about without it.

Zephyr held up the veil between both of you, drawing your attention back to him and temporarily obscuring your view of his face "For you, Lady (y/n)," he started, a playful tone in his voice.

"Nothing is impossible." He lowered the veil, revealing his wide smile. You felt yourself tense up at his expression and you questioned your own body's reaction. You don't understand why but you suddenly feel uneasy and on edge. Something felt off about Zephyr. His tone was warm and his body language seemed relaxed but his smile looked...Sinister.

However, as quickly as that foreboding smile appeared, it disappeared just as fast from Zephyr's face. "Don't worry. I'll handle it." A warm smile graced his lips once more as he wiped a few stray beads of sweat from your cheek. "You should go back and rest now, Lady (y/n). It'll a tiring day for you tomorrow. Come." He took your hand and led you out of the practice hall, your veil grasped firmly in his other. You followed his lead and came to the entrance door to the hall.

Just as Zephyr's hand touched the wooden door handle, a knock came from behind it and the door opened inwards, nearly hitting Zephyr in the face. "Saint Zephyr." A dainty nun stepped into the hall as she called out, her voice soft and low. Her gaze flickered to you. "A-and the Messiah." She stuttered before bowing hastily to you.

"Yes, Sister Darlene?" Zephyr nodded at her greeting. You've met Sister Darlene a few times before when she needed Zephyr's opinion on some church related matters. From your memory, she was a shy and timid young nun, prone to stuttering and fumbling over her words. Though, you heard she has a knack for singing. Maybe you could befriend her. It'd be nice to have someone other than Zephyr to talk to. (Not that he wasn't good company or anything but some diversity is always good...right?)

"I-it's about tomorrow's transportation" Darlene fidgeted in place. Zephyr nodded, prodding her to continue as he fondled with your veil in his hand.. "S-shall we use the opened air carriage or the closed one?" Darlene asked, stealing a few short glances at you. Zephyr, however, seemed to be a bit preoccupied as he kept his gaze down while feeling out the veil. He roughly measured it using his hands as he replied nonchalantly. "The closed one."

Darlene nodded. "Then, s-shall I also inform the Ordo Concordiae? S-so they can post g-guards along our route?" You perked up at that mention. That's a name you haven't heard in a while. The Ordo Concordiae or the Order of Harmony was the name of the guards you worked for before becoming saint. it's been a while since you heard from them. Would they be present for tomorrow's ceremony too? Do...do they remember you?

Zephyr held up the veil before putting it on you once more. He adjusted it and you guessed he was taking some mental notes about the length of the veil in order to make modifications from the way he tilted your head side to side as he observed. "No need. The Royal guards will be on duty along the route tomorrow." He replied, not looking at Darlene.

You complied with Zephyr, letting him move your head around freely with the veil over your face. Through your obstructed view, you saw Darlene straightened her back before replying. "I see. I will go do the necessary arrangement then. Excuse me then, Saint Zephyr, Messiah." Darlene said as she bowed her head. You felt surprised. That was the first time you've heard Darlene speak so confidently and clearly.

Was she that eager to leave?

You held back a chuckle at the thought. Maybe you should find the time to get to know her.

"Of course, Sister Darlene." With that, she left the two of you alone. Zephyr was quiet as he looked at you. Despite the veil, he still seemed to be looking at you directly in the eyes.

"..."

After some silence, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. Well, the part of the veil that covered your forehead. "Alright, let's get you back to your room now, Lady (y/n)." He pulled back and held your hand, leading you out of the hall and down the corridors of the temple.

You walked beside him as you reached up to take off the veil he forgot to remove from you. The moment your hand touched the fabric, Zephyr's hand shot up and grabbed yours, forcing it to a stop. You tilted you head in confusion.

Zephyr stopped in his steps and turned towards you, now holding both your hands in his. "In the case that I don't manage to get the necessary modifications done in time, you will still need to use this one at the ceremony, Lady (y/n)." He said as he readjusted the veil, making sure it was securely placed on your head. "Thus, i suggest you to always keep it on before your dance comes to pass. Let your body adjust to it so it won't strain you as much." He advised.

"Oh...I see." You didn't want to wear this annoying headpiece wherever you went but he made a good point. Reluctantly, you agreed. "Alright." You sighed, feeling defeated. "Good." Zephyr patted your head before continuing to lead the way.

You arrived in front of your room shortly after and Zephyr bid you farewell as you entered. The setting sun could be seen outside the window in your room. Its glow painting your room in a soft orange hue. You sighed as you walked over to your bed before limply flopping onto it. You buried your face in the sheets, smelling the light flora scent of the soap they used for cleaning emanating from it.

"..."

You did nothing as you laid on your stomach on the bed, basking in the silence. Your mind raced, thinking about tomorrow night. Two years ago, when you first arrived in Ebreau, you'd never thought you'd ever have the need to meet with the Royal family but now, not only was your presence going to be tomorrow night's highlight, you were going to perform for them too!

You groaned loudly into the sheets. The stress was getting to you. "Being Messiah is so difficult..." You mumbled, rubbing your face against the sheets as you coped with your anxiety.

However, the rough fabric of the veil prevented you from doing that too. You felt the sandy texture rubbed uncomfortably against your cheeks and nose. You huffed angrily as you reached up and yanked the veil off you. Throwing the golden headpiece onto the floor, you stuffed your face back into the sheets, actually feeling the softness of it this time.

The whole ordeal of shouldering the future of Ebreau as Messiah paired with the events of tomorrow night already gave you a big headache. You didn't need the extra challenge of wearing something so incredibly inconvenient!

Who came up with the idea of dancing with a veil on?!

"Stupid protocol making me dance like a monkey in a veil..." You clicked your tongue and complained. "How am I going to do this..." You sighed into the bed.

Your whole experience made you realised just how hard it was to be in a high position like this. How did Zephyr survive so many years being saint? It's only been a month since you became Messiah and you felt like you were going to break apart already.

You flipped over on the bed, facing the ceiling. "Calm down." You whispered to yourself, lightly slapping yourself on both cheeks to make yourself snap out of it. Complaining and stressing over it like this wasn't going to solve your problems. You just had to take it one step at a time.

Even if these steps were big strides.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself rest.

It'll be fine. You'll do fine.

You reassured yourself.

Zephyr's done it before so it's definitely possible. It has to be.

You thought, convincing yourself that dancing with the veil on won't kill you.

I just have to control my breathing and-“Believe only what thou sees, lamb.”

You sprang up from the bed, frantically looking around your room for the source of the voice. You quickly recomposed yourself once you realised that it was Calerus that just spoke to you.

You furrowed your eyebrows at his words.

What do you mean?

You thought in your mind.

“What goes unseen is but an illusion.”

Calerus' voice rumbled in your head once more. Even with his elaboration, it was still too vague for you to understand. You asked for more but you were met with silence. It seemed Calerus was done talking to you.

Believe in what I see? Is that what he means?

You tried to make sense of the god's words and why he said them but nothing clicked. In the midst of your pondering, a knock came from your bedroom door.

"I've brought your dinner, Lady (y/n)." Zephyr's familiar voice came from outside.

You pushed yourself onto your feet and went to the door, halting your wondering of the deity's warning.

That could wait for now.

It was dinner time.

~✟~

"Pardon?!" You let out as your eyes went wide. You had just woken up and were having a peaceful breakfast when Zephyr just broke the most ground shaking news to you. "We will be leaving for the Royal palace after you finished breakfast and get dressed." Zephyr repeated and you almost choked on your food.

"I thought we were going this afternoon! Isn't the ceremony tonight? Why are leaving now?!" You asked, feeling absolutely distraughted. You thought you still had the entire morning to prepare and calm yourself! That was why you got up so early in the first place!

"The ceremony is tonight, yes," Zephyr scooted his chair closer to you, patting your back as an effort to calm you down. "but you need to be meet with queen and prince so we need to go early before they get busy with welcoming guests." He explained.

"Won't I be meeting them tonight? Why do I need to go see them now?" You asked, perplexed by this turn of events and desperate to find a way to delay this meeting as much as possible. Zephyr looked down at the table, thinking of how to phrase his next sentence to you. "Tonight's ceremony is more of a show to the public than it is an official meeting, Lady (y/n)." You cocked your head to the side. "I don't understand..."

"Take it as the name suggests. A ceremony. All ceremonies are rehearsed beforehand so everyone involved knows what to do when the time comes." Zephyr explained as he ran a hand though your hair. "The real meeting between you and the Royal family is done in private with only you and them present." You felt like you were going to throw up from the stress.

Your plate was still relatively full but you've already lost your appetite after this reveal. You even requested for something nice and fancy to eat this morning to help with the nerves.

Guess it's all going to waste now.

"I..I'm full now." You mumbled and pushed the plate away. You got up from your seat but Zephyr grabbed onto your arm before you could take a step further. "But you've barely eaten anything, Lady (y/n)." He frowned.

"I don't feel like eating anymore." You admitted as you looked down, feeling guilty from wasting perfectly good food. Zephyr sighed as he stood up before taking you into a tight hug.

"You'll do great, Lady (y/n). Believe me." Zephyr whispered into your ear as he squeezed. Your eyes went wide in surprise at his words before slowly softening. You wrapped your arms around him, returning the hug as you buried your face into his chest. The familiar scene of Zephyr's robe wafted into your nose. It smelt of petrichor, calming and refreshing.

"Thank you..." You mumbled, feeling better.

A pair of lips pressed the top of your head as you felt Zephyr leaned down. You sighed softly.

No matter how tough it gets, you know you'll always have Zephyr.

~✟~

The sound of cheering was deafening outside of the carriage. Looking out the carriage window, you saw lines upon lines of people standing beside the road, jumping and waving with big smiles on their faces. You waved back, trying your best to ensure no one is ignores or left out (though it was impossible with the amount of people present).

Horses pulled your carriage along the cobblestone road, their neighs occasionally penetrating the cheers and yells of the crowd, reaching your ears within your ride. Nuns and monks led the procession towards the Royal palace, walking in front while holding various chimes and bells that you've never seen before. The ringing of these instruments accompanied the way as if they were some sort of beat to follow.

Zephyr sat across from you, gazing out the window too with a soft smile on his lips. He stayed silent, letting you take in the adoration the people of Ebreau wanted to show you. His hair was tied up in a ponytail (he did that a lot ever since your accidental compliment on it) and his bangs fluttered gently from the breeze blowing into the carriage.

"Miss Messiah!"

In the midst of the dissonant voices, a certain call, low but clear shot through the air and caught your attention. The familiar pitch urged your curiosity to look for the source. And so you looked. Near the back of the crowd, a man, taller than the rest, stood out as he yelled again with a hand beside his mouth.

"Thank you!"

It was faint but you could make out his words. His structure seemed familiar. Squinting your eyes, you honed in on his face.

It was Mr. Citris!

Grinning, Mr. Citris looked beside him with a finger pointed at you. A person stood at his side, though their smaller frame causes them to be blocked by the people in front, besides from the top of their blond head, you could not see any other features. From your faraway position, you saw Mr. Citris spoke to the person beside him before bending down and picking them up.

A young girl came into view as Mr. Citris held her by her waist and lifted her up in front of him. A bashful flush spread across the young girl's face, seemingly embarrassed by her father's antics. The two exchanged a few more words before the girl eventually turned towards you. She waved with a smile.

The realisation finally dawned on you and you almost slapped yourself for being so slow.

That girl is Mr. Citris' daughter!

The girl's complexion was light but not sickly. Her smile was small yet bright. She looked...Well. Mr. Citris must have use the gold coins to buy the medicine. Even then, the medicine doesn't cure her, only slows down and eases the pain which means...She went out of her way to come see you despite her condition.

A warmth spread through your chest. The thought that you successfully helped someone, even just a little bit, was just the affirmation you needed.

Maybe you weren't hopeless.

You waved back, hoping they would see your reaction and how happy you were that things worked out. You smiled, grinned even.

Ah, wait.

They can't see you smile.

They can't see your face at all.

The veil swayed gently in front of your face following the shaking of the carriage.

The joy you felt a moment ago dissipated as quickly as it arrived. You deflated like a balloon but you waved back nonetheless (albeit somewhat dispiritedly).

Your carriage eventually passed the pair and they disappeared into the crowd. Your vision was once again filled with never-before-seen faces of strangers and your ears flooded with their unfamiliar yells.

Everything had been new to you when you were promoted to Messiah. New lifestyle, new responsibilities, new outlook, the list goes on. For this procession, you had hoped to find some familiarity, some remnant of the past to remind you that you weren't always Messiah, that not long ago you were among these crowds of people.

But looking at the sea of people, you didn't even see any guards in black uniform, guards of the Ordo Concordiae, your colleagues. They were perhaps the closest people you could call family in this place (as messed up as it is considering they basically forced you to work for them) yet you could only see white.

White of the uniforms of the Royal guards.

They stood along the road, ensuring no one cause trouble for the procession towards the palace, holding back any who dared to get too close. You continued to greet the onlookers albeit less enthusiastically.

"...Lady (y/n)."

Your head snapped towards Zephyr after he broke his silence. "Let us talk." You cocked your head to the side, confused by his sudden request. He drew the blinds to the window, isolating the both of you from the outside. “What is it?” You suddenly felt uneasy. Darkness shrouded the carriage but a few rays of light came through the gaps, illuminating Zephyr's face. His face was expressionless and lacking of warmth, unbefitting of his usual demeanour.

“…” He remained quiet and it agitated you further. Zephyr moved from his seat across from you to beside you, facing some difficulty standing up straight due to the low ceiling of the carriage. He shuffled to your side of the carriage and sat down. Your eyes followed him as he turned to you.

“…” He was still silent, his gaze dropping down towards the ground.

Cold sweat was beginning to form on your forehead. Seeing Zephyr so quiet and emotionless was concerning if not alarming. “Zephyr?” You called out, leaning in closer until you came into his peripheral, hoping that would finally catch his attention and prompt him to say what was on his mind.

He finally looked back up before reaching over to you. He grasped onto the hem of your veil and lifted it, revealing your golden eyes to him. “You’re worrying me, Zephyr. What is it?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows. You grabbed onto Zephyr’s hands that were still holding your veil. “Why are you taking it off?” Zephyr simply shook his head and let go but not before making sure it wouldn’t fall back down and cover your face.

“I just…want to see your face, Lady (y/n). Just for a bit.” Zephyr explained, a small smile finally gracing his lips. You frowned, not convinced it was as simple as that. He took a breath before finally speaking. “Lady (y/n), no matter what happens when you meet with the queen and prince later,” He held your hands in his. “Please remember you’re already doing your best."

You blinked. “…What?”

Zephyr pulled you close and embraced you, pressing your head against his chest. He stroked your hair gently. You could hear his heartbeat through his chest, slow and steady. It'd even be calming if it weren't for the current situation. “You don’t have to fix every problem this kingdom has.” You looked up from his chest, eyes swirling with confusion. You pushed yourself off him. Zephyr doesn’t stop you but his arms remain in a loose hug around you.

“What does that mean?” Zephyr sighed and closed his eyes. “…The politics of Ebreau is more complicated than you think, Lady (y/n).” He reopened his eyes and his purple irises stared back into your golden ones. Unlike his, your heart was pounding inside of you, threatening to burst from the stress but you pushed on, knowing this was important. You had to know more. “Tell me then. Shouldn’t I know how this country functions if I am to guide its people?” You pestered for him to elaborate. You unconsciously gripped onto his robe, tensed about what he’ll say. Just how many more challenges were you going to face?

Zephyr’s hands went up to your face and cupped your cheeks. He leaned down, shortening the gap between both your faces. “The relationship between the royal family and the temple…isn’t as great as it seems.” Zephyr confessed. The cheering outside continued on even after your retreat into the carriage but right now, you wished it would stop so you could have some silence to process this information. You tried your best to respond. “What…what happened?”

Zephyr let go of your face before peeking out the blinds. You looked out the small opening between the blinds and windows over his shoulder. The people continued to celebrate the procession outside, their voices not appearing to die down any time soon. He readjusted the blinds and blocked out the people once more. He took a deep breath.

“Things started to get messy 3 years ago. After the war with the Casvians began." Zephyr recalled. "As with all wars, the kingdom has suffered many losses from this ordeal, including but not limited to economic downfalls and disharmony among its people." You nodded. That makes sense...But how did that cause the deterioration of the relationship between the temple and the Royal family?

"Much of Ebreau's money and resources have been sent to the front line in the northeast to aid in the battle with Casviren. The Royal family only has so much money to spare now and they cannot effort to spend it on unnecessary groups or organisations." He fidgeted in his place. It was clear this was a sensitive and top secret topic. You could see glints of worry reflected in his eyes as he spoke. Zephyr was afraid of this information being leaked to the public.

"The temple maintains the people's belief in our Lord, Calerus, ensuring their undying loyalty to him. A common religion fosters unity and reduces dispute among the people as everyone shares the same principle and belief." Zephyr elaborated. You processed his words, keeping your head bowed in thought before asking. "So, basically, the temple is responsible for keeping the peace among the citizens?"

"Yes, that's a good way to put it." A smile graced Zephyr's lips, easing the tension in the air. "But many tragedies have occurred. Much blood has been spilled and even more tears have been shed. The war has raged on for too long and too fiercely. It has made a grave impact on the people, not just economically but also spiritually." He sighed. "They are starting to lose faith. Some even believe Calerus has abandoned Ebreau." Zephyr played with your hair. It appeared unfitting of the situation at first but looking at how he was rubbing and pinching the tip of it instead of twirling it like how he usually does, you guessed he was doing it out of anxiety and not playfulness.

Your mind spun as you tried to piece together the information. You never knew the beliefs of Ebreauans were waning. Have you just not been out and about enough? Surely not. You ran errands everyday for the past 2 years. You were always outside and mixing with the folks. Then that means either you're an unobservant idiot or you've never seen Ebreau when it was still prosperous.

The war started 3 years ago and you only got dropped here 2 years ago. 1 year may not be enough to put a dent, economy wise in a kingdom as wealthy as Ebreau but you don't doubt it's enough to instill fear and cause hysteria among the people.

Perhaps you've never seen the true glory of Ebreau.

Perhaps you've jumbled the chaos with the mundane.

Perhaps this madness has become your normal.

"The temple is losing influence, is that what you're saying?" You muttered and, to your dismay despite expecting it, Zephyr nodded. "Our Lord, Calerus," he sighed, "is no longer a tie that binds the nation together." He looked away before closing his eyes. "We no longer have the means to maintain the peace like we used to." It hurt him to admit this.

"..." You were deep in thought and thankfully, Zephyr was more than willing to give you space to process everything.

People are scared and confused. The war with the Casvians has gone on for 3 years already and currently, it still shows no signs of stopping. The commonfolks are grasping at anyone and anything for guidance in this desperate time. They look towards those in charge, in this case, the Royal family and the temple for assurance and direction, for a spark of hope that they will get through this. But when that fails...

It's not going to end well for the higher ups.

Zephyr took a deep breath and continued. "The palace considers us inept and are an extra weight that burdens them when they already have so much on their hands." The carriage rattled as it went over, what you assume to be, a rock. "Communication between the temple and palace has decreased to when absolutely necessary over the years and collaborations happen only to uphold the act that Ebreau is co-ruled by the temple and royal family." He explained further.

"I..." Zephyr paused midsentence and your breath hitched, awaiting what terrible news he will relay on you next. "I expect them to cut ties with us soon." You suppressed the urge to jump out the carriage this instant and run back to the temple-no, back to the small, little house you rented before you became Messiah. Before everything went haywire.

You buried your face into your hands. This was all too much. It went from bad to worse to horrible. It's been a constant downward spiral these back few days.

Don't cry, (y/n). Don't cry.

A pair of arms wrapped around you and pulled you towards their chest. Zephyr hugged you as he caressed you. His hand going up and down your back as he comforted. "I'm sorry to burden you with so much, Lady (y/n)." You felt him gripping onto your clothes. "I don't expect you to fix these problems. They've been festering for too long." He kissed your head.

"Maybe this country is already beyond salvation."

Your hands felt weak and fell from your face as he murmured into your ear. This kingdom... Ebreau... Your home...

How do you save it?

~✟~

The palace was just in view as the horses trotted closer, leading the carriage from the cobblestone road of the central town to the tiled pathway within the castle compound. Royal guards dressed in their white uniforms continued to stand guard beside the pathway just as they did when you were still on the streets of the central town. However, now with the revelation that people from the palace have a sour (to put it nicely) relationship with the temple, the blank stares of these men felt a lot more menacing and frightening than they previously were.

You met eyes with a certain guard on duty beside the pathway and it could be paranoia speaking but you swore there was ill intent behind those eyes. A chill ran down your spine as you quickly adverted your eyes to elsewhere.

Zephyr was still seated next to you, not moving despite already finished telling you the situation with the Royal family. You didn't mind though, you needed the emotional support for what was about to come.

The palace was mostly white in colour, its roof golden and its doors wooden but painted with silver, so were the window frames. As you inched closer, you could make out figures standing in front of the main entrance.

You gulped.

The carriage came to a stop. Zephyr stepped out first before holding his hand out for you to take. You slowly reached over, scooting towards the open door before stepping down the steps of the carriage, your hand in his.

Your heart was racing and you mentally counted to yourself before lifting your head to meet the gazes of the people before you.

“Messiah, we are so delighted that you’re here.” A silky and smooth voice poured from the mouth of the woman in front of you. The woman had light brown hair, done up into a side bun which hung low and near to her face. She wore a light blue gown, embellished with white pearls and clear crystals around the waist and also the skirt of the gown. She smiled, a few wrinkles appearing around the corners of her ruby eyes. “I am Marika Sinnyala.” She introduced herself, leaving out her title.

Queen.

Marika held up her hand and gestured to the person standing beside her. A younger man, tall and slim. He wore a uniform similar to the royal guards except his was silver, not white and there were some black embroidery around the collar. He had the same red eyes and a face resembling hers albeit it was more masculine. It wasn’t hard to tell who he was and what his relationship with Marika is.

“This is my dear son, Xion Sinnyala.”

The prince strode over, his white hair bouncing gently on his head. A mark of royalty as some would say. As was gold the colour of the divine, white was the colour of royalty. The Sinnyala family had ruled Ebreau for centuries alongside the temple. A striking characteristic of the Sinnyalas were their white as snow hair. It’s speculated that that’s why white symbolises royalty. It wouldn’t be far fetched that as time went on, Ebreauans associated that colour with power and luxury. Most past rulers of the kingdom had that colour of hair after all.

Even the late king.

Xion stopped right in front of you. He reached for your hand, grabbing onto it as he leaned down. His touch was feathery light, you could barely feel it.

It was almost as if he was avoiding touching you.

You resisted the urge to pull your hand back as he pressed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. His other hand rested behind his back. To outsiders, it may have appeared as a friendly gesture. A greeting from a prince to a maiden. Gentlemanly and almost fairytale like. You admit. Something like this, normally would get your heart racing and cheeks flushing.

But Xion, he was staring right at you as he did so.

The mother and son pair may share the same coloured eyes but Queen Marika’s were soft and friendly as she greeted you. Prince Xion, on the other hand, his eyes were piercing and fierce, his gaze felt like a glare. His actions seemed gentle and welcoming but the look in his eyes said otherwise.

You suddenly felt grateful for the veil you were wearing as your lips trembled.

His soft lips finally left your skin but he did not stand back up. Still in a bowed position, his voice, low and crisp, sounded.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Messiah.”

Another voice echoed from within the deep chambers of your mind at the same time, almost overlapping with the prince’s.

“Beware the Heretics.”

~✟~

Ahhhh done! Finally! This chapter was so hard to write since it was less action and more lore heavy. But finally it’s done! I was supposed to get this up yesterday but my body straight up went “hey wouldn’t it be funny to make her sick?” So yeah. That kinda slowed me down a bit. Sorry and thank you for waiting! I hope you enjoyed ^^

Ps: I decided to change the colour for Messiah from blue to orange since it suited better so I’ll go back and change the ones in previous chapters afterwards. Oh and again, any errors you find, let me know so I can correct them!

Taglist

@ursinaw @ceeesxy-blog @deepinballs @vash-yuu @fairy-lenaa @fleurescentlight @surprisemodafakas @cerisearan @avyannasstuff @justabratsworld @m0chilattae @sirenetheblogger @rosesunderthegarden @party-9 @waywardstardustcollector @crnnbrry-blog @iamapotatoe @altumsomnum @liesatemyocean @tired-of-life-86 @takottai @alexatiu

please tell me if I missed anyone!

98 notes · View notes

heartilywrites · 3 days

Text

♡ — To be loved and to be in love ; Korra (p. 2)

< back to part 1

resume: after three years, it finally was time to talk about those feelings.

content warning: time skip ; fluff ; mentions of Mako and Korra's relationship ; airbender and fem!reader being Tenzin's oldest daughter ; childhood friends to lovers ; no use of y/n ; only description of eye color and maybe hair if you squint enough ;

wc: 2.3k

As much as you waited for me, I'll never let you go.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Meelo, that's enough! What's that!? IT STINKS!” such a normal day in the temple, the sun was shining on the place, Jinora and you were meditating... Meelo was terrorizing Ikki, as usual.

An exhausted sigh left your mouth before turning to your younger siblings and hit them with an air burst to destabilize them, both fell in their butts confused to what happened. “Can you two be quiet!? We are working here!”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You're not the boss of mine!” the boy exclaimed, your eyes narrowed at him.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Oh? You wanna go, little man?” not even a step was given from your side before your father stood in front of you and Meelo.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “That's enough, kids, we have to leave.” Tenzin called you by name to be at his side. “We have to be in the city for the coronation of prince Wu.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Alright... I need to wear the suit?” you asked walking beside the master, your right hand was raising a little bit the traditional dress you were wearing just in case you stepped on it while going up the stairs.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You do, it shows our changes as a nation.” the older man explained, you nodded after frowning your nose a little bit. You still felt weird about the changes on clothing.

After Korra left for the south, Tenzin had promised that the airbenders would take responsibility and help the people in need while the avatar was recovering in her hometown. The first six months pass and, as promised, you wrote to Korra every single week, telling her about the most important things that happened and some good news in hope that she wouldn't worry of coming back before time. You got letters back responding to yours, not knowing that from all her friends you were the only one she wrote back all that time, because your letters used to help her get through everything.

The first year arrived and Korra changed her writing to you to once a month while you didn't stopped your quantity to her. When the half of the year went by, you got your ceremony naming you an official airbender master and you waited for Korra to show up, but when the day came, your illusions stayed as that: illusions. You were happy, nonetheless, you finally got your tattoos and got the title of master after working so hard for it, but not having the girl your heart loved more than anything by your side on your most important day broke you.

Two years in and the letters got fewer from both sides, you got occupied with the nation while Korra was trying to heal. She was having a hard time by itself, feeling in a bottomless pit, but at the end of each day she used to pull a box with all of your letters and would read it back.

She would laugh at some when something funny or embarrassing happened to you and you would tell her about it, your words of encouragement and how even on ink she could feel your love could turn a bad day into a good one. That's where she realized, she did love you, you were the one all this time, you were right in front of her, but she couldn’t realize in time and she felt so stupid when she realized that. But did you loved her? How could she know if you loved her back? She couldn't base her assumptions on written words, maybe you were just being friendly, maybe be by the time the third year arrived and she almost didn't receive any letter you found someone for you, someone who loved you and treated you well. She couldn’t handle it.

But at the third year of her being gone, your responsibilities just increased. Since you were Tenzin's first born child and you finally got your tattoos, he had told you how you were ready to become one of the next leaders of the air nation, meaning you didn't have the enough time to write her and tell her the good news... or bad news.

And as a leader, it also meant you needed to stay on the island with your father while your three younger siblings went to look for Korra.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “It's not fair,” you said after you waved them goodbye asking all three to take care of each other. “I should be helping them with the search.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'm sorry, kiddo, but I need you here to help us come with a plan against Kuvira.” he said, resting an arm on your shoulders. “They'll find and bring her, be patient, she will be here again.”

You didn't know this, but Tenzin was well aware of your love for Korra. It didn't take a genius to realize how you've been in love with Korra almost your whole life and Tenzin was a very observant parent as well, his theories were confirmed after the avatar's fight against the Red Lotus, but he never pressured you to talk about it, the airbender wanted you to tell him yourself when you were ready to talk about it.

The next couple of days were hell for you, without any way to reach your siblings and asked them how they were doing or any type of news from the southerner, your mind couldn't concentrate.

The one day you went out with Kai to take care of some business designated by your father, you came back to the surprise of one airbender telling you how he was so happy to have Korra back. Your legs ran as fast as they could while you where buttoning your suit from one side, your low bun was loosing its form since the band was slipping down.

At your arrival to the front of the temple you saw everyone reunited giving the avatar a warm welcome, but your eyes were so fixated on the girl that you didn't saw how Jinora and Ikki held hands waiting for the moment they were talking so excited about in the way out. Korra's breath stopped at your sight, you were more beautiful than she remembered; your hair looked a bit longer than before her departure, your grey eyes looked difficult to read and a bit teary-eyed, she even let her eyes wonder on your body as the suit hugged your figure and how could she forget: your tattoos, you were finally an airbending master.

You walked close to her and she called your name in a sigh, it took you a second to threw yourself at her to hug her so tight as your arms allowed you, wanting to have her as close as the anatomy allowed you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I missed you so much.” you began, while trying to catch your breath, she smiled big and hide her face in the crook of your neck, letting you feel goosebumps at the air she breath out. “I'm so glad you're back.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'm sorry.” she whispered against your skin, she stayed there for one more moment, breathing in your scent before taking a step back from you. “I missed you too... But now I'm back and we can catch up.”

A tiny smile appeared on your face while your eyes were delighting themselves with Korra's features. Her gaze looked darker, some eye bags underneath them and... she cut her hair shorter. “You look so gorgeous with your hair short.”

Her cheeks changed colors at the compliment, your two sisters squeaked at your back and at that moment you remembered how everyone was still witnessing the encounter. “Thank you, you look so pretty with the tattoos and your long hair. I'm so happy you finally are a master, you deserved it.” now it was your turn to blush.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Alright, kiddos, how about taking Korra back to her room so she can freshen up?” you heard Tenzin say, thanking the spirits he intervened. “Everyone has chores to do and Korra has friends to catch up with.”

After Korra's arrival, you felt as if you could breath again. You didn't realize how much you could miss someone's presence until she was ripped away from you without any warning whatsoever. But now that that was over, you two started to get as closer as when you were when little.

Even when great problems were upon everyone, Korra and you found time at night to chat again to catch up; she had asked you to move to her room with the excuse that it would be easier to talk and gossip at the end of each day, and how could you say no to that? You would tell her about your new responsibilities and how it was scary at some point to become a leader of a whole nation and she would tell you about everything she went through the months she disappeared from everyone. As one would, you got concerned about her not being able to go into the avatar state again and would advise her a couple of things, she was grateful for that. She couldn't be more grateful to have you back on her side, she needed you more than anything.

A night before the evacuation of the city took place, Korra was sitting down watching you braid your hair as you did almost every night. “You look so pretty.”

Your hands stopped and your eyes looked back at her, a big smile formed in your face while your cheeks adopted a light pink color in them. “Thank you...” you could only whisper back, timidly. The southerner licked her lips before gathering strength to keep talking.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Listen, I know this isn't the right time since we are about to go to war with a crazy metalbender,” you giggled at that, paying your whole attention to the girl once your hairstyle was done. “But in all those years in the south, I couldn't stop thinking about you.”

Your heart stopped at the way she said the last sentence, with such caution and care, looking at you and your reaction.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Your letters were the only thing keeping me with hope, I would read them every night without missing one...” she continued, her fingers were moving nervously. “And in all this time I've hit rock-bottom as I never did before, but somehow the mere thought of you made me want to keep going.”

...Was this going where you thought it was going?

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You've been my best friend for so long now that I can't remember a day when I was a kid where you weren't there with me and I can't imagine a life without you by my side.” she stepped up from her bed and walked to yours, making your heart race when she sat so close. “You were the only one sticking by my side all this time, in my highs and lows, comforting me each time I needed without asking anything in return or giving me a lecture while helping me to get better when I made mistakes instead of judging me for it and you have no idea how thankful I am with you for that.”

Korra's hands looked for yours, feeling warm when they found them and she smiled.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “It took me so long to realize this that it's absurd how I couldn't pinpoint it in the past and instead I was covering it up with an stupid excuse, but I love you. I have loved you since we were kids and it took me being away from you to realize that it was love what I felt for you.” your heart dropped, a big smile started to form in your face at those words.

Before she could continue or ask you anything, your lips met hers in a soft kiss, taking the girl by surprise but being quick to melt in the gesture. You distanced after a couple of seconds, giggling when she followed your lips.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Does that mean you love me too?” she asked in a whisper on your lips.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Oh, no, I just love kissing my friends to reinforce our friendship.” you responded sarcastically, Korra rolled her eyes in a lighthearted way. “Of course I love you, loser, I meant to tell you years ago when you moved to the city.”

She frowned confused. “Why didn't you?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You were so interested in Mako that I distanced myself to not watch you being with him.” you tell, her eyes opened realizing how that was the reason why you left. “That's why I also didn’t went in a bunch of your journeys... I couldn't stand to see you with him.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Wait... When you came back him and I were over, I thought you distanced because you didn’t like me as a friend anymore.” now you raised your eyebrows. “So...”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “We are idiots.” you declared holding back a laugh.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You should've followed Pema's advice on love, you know?” now you did laugh, letting your forehead rest in her shoulder. “It would've worked on me too, I'm just saying.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Dear spirits, shut up, let's... Okay, we'll sort this out after the battle, mhm? We need to stay focus.” Korra smiled flirty at you. “Time to sleep, go.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Can I sleep with you? That's what girlfriends do.” your whole face turned red, the southerner left a quick kiss on your cheek before leading you to lie down next to her. “We'll talk about this after defeating that dumbass.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “And you'll ask me out properly.” you finished while settling however you could in the bed. Both hearts jumping happy at finally having the answer of their dilemmas: their feelings were reciprocated.

You were one battle away to live the life that only in dreams appeared and you surely would fight to have it with Korra.

#the legend of korra #korra x reader #avatar korra #korra x you #korra fluff #korra x fem!reader #the legend of korra x reader #korra fanfic #request

64 notes · View notes

hsjazebel · 2 days

Text

Desperate part 2*

Word count: 2763

A/n: I’m sorry to have made you wait so long for part 2, but here it is! I hope you enjoy💘

*the imagine is just for aesthetic*

“I'm gonna fuck you so good you won't be able to look me in the eyes for a week without blushing."

He looks you straight in the eyes and your mind is blank, you just want to be fucked so good and not think about anything.

“Cat got your tongue? I've barely touched you and you're already all stupid! You just want my cock in your little pussy, don't you?”

You nod not having the strength to speak, but this isn't enough for him.

“Words, baby. I need to hear your beautiful voice. Is that what you want?”

"Yes, yes. I want you!"

“Oh is it, pretty girl? You want me? Who expected that the good girl who knows how to cook such good pasta would actually hide a dirty part! But don't worry, now I'm here to scratch your itch, I'll treat your pussy so good I'll ruin you! Are you ready pretty girl? There’s no turning back.”

“Yes, I want it so bad!”

“Good girl!”

And so, he sticks his cock in you and it's like the rest disappears. You lie there with your mouth open making little moans because of the feeling of his big cock opening you up and stretching you out to make his way in your pussy.

“This is all you’re good for, just a hole for me to fuck. Such a nice, wet little pussy for m-“

The sound of your alarm clock wakes you up from your wet dream. You open your eyes trying to adjust to the light coming from the windows. Last night you forgot to lower the shutters and you're mentally cursing yourself for it.

The memories of your dream are still in your mind that you can even feel your panties getting wet.

It's been a week since your first meeting with Harry and it's been a week that you only have him on your mind.

This isn't the first time you've had a dream like this. And you know it won't be the last either.

You desperately want to take care of yourself but you don't have time because you promised your mother to go out and do some shopping together.

You decide to go take a cold shower trying not to think about the all too real feeling of Harry fucking you.

Then you choose an outfit for the day and go down to the living room where you find your mother fully dressed.

“I'm so happy to have a mother-daughter day! It's been a while since we went shopping together. I'm sad your sister isn't here too, it would have been nice to just be girls!” Your mom says as she grabs her purse and keys.

“Yeah, but she’s like Dad, she doesn't like shopping,” you follow her as you leave the house.

“I really don't know how she doesn't feel like going out and buying new clothes!” She laughs.

“I always ask myself that too!” You laugh along with her.

You both head towards the city center and start entering various shops.

After spending an hour trying on clothes, you decide to go into Sephora, a place you can't resist, and while you're debating whether or not to buy the Rare Beauty blush you hear your mother's phone ringing. She spends a few minutes on the phone and when she hangs up the call she looks at you with a sad look.

“They just called me from work. They said they found a motive against the other defendant in the trial. I have to go to the office. I'm so sorry to have to leave now, I even thought about going to brunch together.” You can tell she wasn't happy about leaving, but your mom was an established lawyer in your city, and she was now working on this very important case, she couldn't do anything about it.

“Don't worry Mom, I know how important this case is for you! I think I'll take another look in here and then I'll go get something to eat quickly,” you smile at her trying to cheer her up. “Come on, don't make that face, I'll stay here all summer, we'll find many more days to have another mother-daughter moment.”

"You are right! It seems to me that I don't see you very often and I was so happy to spend this day with you! Please don't spend too much money on makeup, I know you don't have a minimum of self-control when you come in here,” she laughs as she hugs you goodbye. You hug her back and with that you see her leave the shop.

You finish your shopping trip - and you may not have exactly listened to what your mother told you about not buying too much makeup - and decide to go alone to that brunch you were supposed to have with her.

You arrive at a small place near the center called Jerome and already from the outside you could see that the interior was all decorated in pink and this caught your attention.

You had passed by here several times but you had never seen it or heard the name of the place, so you deduce that it is a new opening, and so you decide to go in.

The interior was as you expected, all pink with neon cursive writing. On the left was a wall covered in pink and white roses with large swings as eating stations, which also had a large teddy bear that you found absolutely adorable, and on the left a large glass counter showing that which, in your opinion, was paradise.

A waitress with a welcoming smile comes towards you, inviting you to take a seat in the front room and that someone will come to take your order once you are ready.

You return her smile by thanking her kindly and make your way into the room she indicated.

On the way, you find on the right side a wall covered with pink velvet and a bicycle leaning against it with another big teddy bear on it. You find this corner particularly cute so you take your phone out of your bag to take a photo.

As you open the camera app you hear a familiar voice calling you.

“Hi Y/n!”

You turn in the direction of the voice and find the protagonist of your latest dreams sitting at a table on a pink velvet armchair.

"Oh! Hi Harry!" You return the greeting by smiling at him.

He pulls back a chair as a sign to sit next to him and you gladly accept.

“Shopping day I see,” Harry tells you pointing to the bags you had to bring with you.

"Oh yes!" You laugh. “I was out with Mum but she had to run away to work, so I'm forced to go around with all these bags!”

Harry laughs back. “That's why you're here alone.”

You are about to answer him but are interrupted by a waiter who has come to take your orders.

Once he leaves - not before giving you a sweet smile - you see Harry give the boy a not-so-kind look.

You continue your conversation until within a few minutes your food arrives.

You start eating in silence and you notice that Harry keeps staring at you.

“Do I have something on my face?”

“Mh? What?"

“I see you staring at me, I asked you if I had something on my face.”

“No, no you don't have anything on your face, it's just… I don't know if it's appropriate to ask you something.”

“Ask me what?”

He takes a long sigh. “I was just thinking… if you have a boyfriend”

You stop yourself from laughing at his question. “No, I don't have a boyfriend. Why do you ask?"

“I was just curious to know I guess. It is undeniable that you are a beautiful girl and I also noticed how that boy looked at you before and I was just wondering if you have a boyfriend, that's all."

"Don’t worry. In fact, right now I don't want a boyfriend, I broke up a couple of months ago so I'm thinking more about myself now."

“I'm sorry, I didn't know you broke up recently. Can I ask why if it doesn't bother you?”

“Don't worry, it doesn't bother me. I've been with this Italian guy named Lorenzo for more or less a year and a half, except that in the last period, things between us haven't been going so well. In the last few months, I saw him as more detached, and in the end, I discovered that he had another woman... that’s the reason!" you laugh sarcastically.

“Excuse my language but… he must be a real dickhead to have cheated on you.”

“I'm big now, you can use bad words in my presence, and yes you're right, he's a big dickhead!” You laugh and he follows you.

After finishing your brunch you are the first to get up.

“Thanks for keeping me company, Harry. I really enjoyed talking to you!”

“No, thanks to you Y/n! And I enjoyed talking to you too! It could be done more often!” He tells you smiling, making his dimples appear.

“Yes, I would be more than happy to do it again. Maybe I could mention to Dad to invite you to dinner some evening.”

"I'd really like to."

And so you head towards the exit of the place with him opening the door for you like a true gentleman.

Once outside, however, you remember that you had arrived here in your mother's car and now that she was gone you didn't know how to get home. So your only option - other than walking in the July sun for 40 minutes on foot, which you didn't think was the best option - was to ask Harry for help.

“Um, Harry?” You call him. “Sorry but I just realized that I don't know how to get home since my mother left with the car, and.. uhm I wanted to ask you if by any chance, if it were possible for you, you could take me home.”

You didn't like bothering people about your things, because you always had the impression that you were annoying.

“Of course, I can take you home Y/n! I would never leave you stranded. In fact, I was just asking you if you wanted a ride but you beat me to it."

And with that, you head towards his car. And again, being the gentleman that he is, he opens the door for you to get into the car.

Along the way you are rather silent, in addition to the noise of the radio music in the background, there is every now and then an exchange of words.

Once you arrive at the gate of your house you almost feel sorry to let Harry go, and he seems to think the same as you.

You're about to say bye and thank him when an idea comes to you.

“You know I was thinking about the conversation we had that evening at my house and I just remembered that I have another book that I think you might like… if you want you could come in the house for a moment.”

“Yes, I'd like to come in but I don't want to disturb you."

“Don't worry, there's no one at home. Mom and Dad are at work and my sister is at the beach with some friends.”

“Oh…okay.”

He leaves the car in the driveway and so you go into the house.

As soon as you enter you head towards the bookcase in the living room but looking carefully among the books you don't find what you were looking for.

Going back in your memory you remember leaving it in your room; you had recently finished reading it and you immediately thought Harry might like it.

“Um…I think I left it in my room, if you want you can come with me, I also have other books there and I think you might find something you might like.”

"Yes, of course!"

So you go up the stairs and enter your room, but as soon as you enter you see the chair near your bathroom with your pajamas and underwear on it that you had taken off before entering the shower.

But the thing that immediately catches your eyes are your white lace panties on top of your clothes, and, if you look at them better you can also see a darker part on their crotch which you know well what is due to: the man next to you to you.

While you were both in your room, you felt a strange tension in the air. You look at Harry and notice the way he avoids your gaze as if he's hiding something. You suddenly feel vulnerable, remembering the embarrassing moment when you had accidentally left your panties on the chair. You wonder if he saw it.

“Sorry if the room is a little messy,” you say, trying to break the awkward silence.

He smiled faintly. “Don't worry, you told me that the book you recommended is here somewhere, right?”

Your heart beats faster in your chest as you try to figure out if he's just trying to be nice or if he's trying to avoid the awkward moment.

“Sure, it's right there on the nightstand,” you reply, gesturing to the book with a wave of your hand. “Sorry about the mess.”

He walks over to the nightstand, but in his gaze, he notices your panties casually placed on the chair. He lets out a short sigh, trying not to let his embarrassing discovery show. “Thank you,” he said, taking the book carefully.

The tension in the air seems to increase as they both look into each other's eyes, an energy filled with repressed desire and forbidden curiosity.

You try to ignore the racing of your heart as he walks away from the nightstand with the book in his hands.

“There are some really interesting parts,” you say, trying to keep the conversation light. "I hope you like it."

He nodded with a gentle smile. “I can't wait to read it, thanks for the advice.”

The silence that followed was heavy, full of tension and unspoken meaning. You both knew what was behind that embarrassing moment, but neither seemed ready to face it.

You bit your lower lip, trying to find the courage to say something, anything that would break the overwhelming tension. But the words seemed to get stuck in your throat.

Finally, he turns to face you, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that makes you tremble slightly.

“Is there anything else you would like to talk about?” He asks you, his voice barely a whisper.

You swallow, feeling your heart beat so loudly it sounds like a drum in his ears. “Yes,” you admit in a small voice. “There is something we need to address.”

You feel your heart beating furiously in your chest as he gently approaches, creating an atmosphere full of anticipation.

“I know,” he whispers softly, his voice a seductive harmony in the air vibrant with desire.

A shiver of emotion runs through your skin as your gazes meet, communicating desires and secrets hidden deep inside.

You nod slightly, unable to articulate a sound, your breath held in anticipation of what was about to happen.

He gets even closer, so close that you can feel the heat of his breath on your skin, but without ever crossing that invisible border that separated reality from enchantment.

An instant of silence full of meaning lasts longer, time seems to have stopped as you let yourself be enveloped by the magic of waiting, aware of how powerful and precious that tension suspended between you can be.

You get dangerously close to the point where you can feel his nose touching yours, the desire between you vibrating in the tense air.

Lips a few millimeters apart, the imminent contact was like a promise of suspended passion, when suddenly the sound of the front door opening resonates in the air, interrupting the intimate moment.

You both tense up instinctively, your heart quickening its pace in your chest as your gazes meet in a mixture of agitation and repressed desire.

“Y/n! I am home!" You hear your father's voice coming from downstairs.

“Fuck,” you say as you pull away from Harry, but the heat of the barely touched contact still burned on his lips, while your body trembled slightly in anticipation of what might happen.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles blog #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #desperate

73 notes · View notes

ivysangel · 3 days

Text

I am dead serious when I say that you guys need to start giving writers feedback more often. I have a fic here that has a total of 4015 notes and only 218 aren't likes. So, let me break this down for you a bit.

Of 4015 notes, 186 are reblogs and 32 are comments. Two reblogs, as well as comments, are mine so I'll subtract them from the equation making the total number of notes 4011 (184 rbs, 30 comments, 3,797 likes).

Of the 184 reblogs, 16 are private, meaning they're absolutely useless in spreading and sharing the piece. The remaining 168 consists of 136 reblogs falling under "other reblogs" while only 32 fall under "comments and tags." And of the 32 under "comments and tags," only 9 have something besides a copy of the tags that I included in my initial post.

The 184 reblogs make up 4.6% of the total notes, the reblogs under "comments and tags" make up 0.8% of the total notes, and the reblogs under "comments and tags" with anything besides tags copied from the initial post make up 0.2% of the total notes.

At one point, I reblogged the post, asking if anyone wanted a part two. That's when I got my first comments. The first 6 comments were in response to that, and of the 30 total comments (excluding my own), only two were unrelated to a part two. Which means I can guarantee that I wouldn't have had that many comments had I not posed the question of a sequel fic.

And if I add those 2 comments to the 9 reblogs, I get 0.3% of the total notes on my post that make up the portion of notes that aren't likes, empty reblogs, or comments about a part two. And that's me being generous because two of the reblogs actually do mention a part two.

I also posted a poll asking what people wanted in part two, and that poll got 238 votes. That is 54 people more who voted for what they wanted in a part two that didn't reblog or help push part one.

Don't get me wrong, I love seeing people in my notifs liking my posts, but sometimes it's just not enough. It is utterly exhausting waking up to multiple hundreds of notifications and not seeing a single person compliment your work. You guys will like stuff, follow, and then head straight to the inbox asking for more. I know it's been said a hundred times before, but we are not machines; we do this for free in our spare time.

The post in question was written when I was tired out of my mind, and I ended up not liking it, so I let it sit in my drafts. I briefly mentioned it on my blog and was met with one of my followers showing interest in the idea, which prompted me to revise, edit, and post it. It was a gift, as are all fics and pieces of art by writers and artists on this site, and yet it was treated like a commodity.

When people say it's unmotivating they're not kidding. When I had 100+ asks in my inbox, all of them being requests, I felt like I had the worst case of writers block known to man. I would open my inbox and immediately close it because the idea of posting anything knowing the only response would be more requests, was awful.

When people leave little messages in the tags, full-blown commentary, or kind messages in my inbox referencing posts, I feel more motivated than ever. Those responses are what drives me to write more. But when I, and other writers, are being treated like we're here to cook up whatever fantasisies you have in mind, I can't help but side-eye a little.

We wouldn't write if we didn't enjoy it, but the moment it feels like a job, it becomes that much less enjoyable, and then everybody loses. Just send a kind message to your favorite writers every once in a while. I promise it'll make their day.

I would also like to say that as I've written this, I've seen more people like that post. So, there's that.

#i hope this makes sense #it's 5 am and i haven't slept yet #★ just yappin ★

59 notes · View notes

catnipaddictt · 1 day

Text

jailbreak

scott barringer x gn!reader

synopsis: You and Scott decide to escape New Horizons, a camp for at risk teens.

wc: 1.3k

tw: none

comment: there is a lack of Scott content on tumblr so I decided I wanted to write something. Also I fell in love with higher ground, i didn't think it was going to be that good, but i binged it in under a week.

You kick at the ground with your beat-up old sneakers, watching as moisture falls from the blades of grass. Grumbling could be heard from in front of you as the ground of teens treked behind their leader. Ever since you had arrived at New Horizons, it was basically walk after walker. You swear once you are out of this place you would never hike again. But alas you had now been here for almost 2 months, and Peter sure wasn't letting you out anytime soon.

Picking up your feet, you begin to follow your group as they walk uphill through the forest that surrounds the school. You make up the back of the pack, mostly just because you prefer to walk at a more leisurely pace.

“Hey” you glance to your side to be met with blue eyes. Scott. He had been here for around the same time you had meaning that you were both ‘fresh meat’. If you could even call yourself that anymore. You reply back with a “hi” focusing on not tripping on any tree roots. Scott was at New Horizons for a drug related problem, something a lot of the students had issues with. He was normally standoffish and refused to participate but you two got along just fine. Which led to the little problem of your not so little crush on the tall boy.

“I hate walking” he states plainly and you agree, nodding your head. “I mean, how is this supposed to help, walking up hills isn't going to fix a bunch of messed up kids” Scott continues. “It sucks, I just want to get out of here” you reply. “Hey, what if we-” Scott seems to want to say something but changes his mind, shaking his head. “Nevermind.” You glance at him confused. “C'mon, you have got to say it now” you laugh. “It was stupid anyways” he grumbles at the ground.

“Oh boo-hoo, just tell me” you practically beg. Scott sees this and ultimately starts to speak, “we could get out of here you know? It's only the forest holding us back I mean. And we have pretty much walked all of it twice over.” You turn your head to look at him, “you mean run away?” you ask. He has caught your full attention now. “See, told you it was dumb” Scott answers.

“Let's do it.”

“Sorry?” He states, “you can't be serious.” He raises an eyebrow. “Oh I'm serious. I have had enough of this place. Worst case scenario we get caught, that's like a few days of confinement to the cabins.” You reply smoothly. It was definitely a horrible idea but it's not like life was too exciting for you at the moment.”I mean, I'm down if you are” Scott shrugs. You think for a moment before replying. “Okay two days from now there is the school bonfire thing. We pack bags beforehand, I'll sneak into the kitchens and get us some food and stuff, and we can meet up by the docks. They won't notice we have gone for a few hours at least.”

Scott looks at you “a few hours head start is probably as good as we are going to get.” He makes up his mind, “okay I'm in.”

The next two days passed rather slowly, with not much really happening apart from lectures about personal wellness. What a waste of your time. You were counting down the minutes until your and Scott's escape out of here.

The final hours of your time at New Horizons were spent packing a bag, light enough to not slow you down, but enough to keep you going until you could get more supplies. Your next job was the kitchen.

The sun had almost disappeared by the time you reached the space, quietly opening and shutting the door behind you. You grabbed two large plastic bottles of water, placing them in your bag, as well as a few cans of food and lots of snacks. This was definitely enough to last you a few days. Getting through the forest should only take a few hours, the tricky part was not being seen around town.

Zipping up your bag you sneak out of the kitchen, making your way to the docks. You could see Scott's shadow cast on the wooden planks, giving his location away. You walk almost silently up to him and he jumps a little at you appearing. “Don't sneak up on me like that” he says playfully.

You nod your head in the direction of the path leading to the forest “time to go?” The light from the bonfire flickers over the landscape, making it feel like something out of a 80’s horror film. “Yeah, let's do it”

You both make your way out of the school and into the dense forest. There is nearly no light apart from the occasional bit of moon peeking through the canopy. Scott pulls two flashlights out of his bag, passing one to you “borrowed Auggie’s, hope he doesn't mind” he shrugs and you laugh. Poor Auggie had been robbed of his only torch.

After about an hour of walking Scott starts telling you clearly made up stories about people getting lost in the woods never to be seen again. Typical teenager boy behavior. You roll your eyes in response - not that he could see. “That's so not real” you speak, only to be met with a yelp as he trips over a tree root. You cannot contain your laughter at the action. “Not funny” he grumbles.

The next few hours pass in a blur. The clear night makes your walk nicer than you thought it was going to be. Scott being there helped a lot. You both exchange tales of your lives before New Horizons, Scott tells you about his football games and school. Up ahead of you, you can see where the ground drops about 6 feet or so, meaning you will have to climb down. Scott goes first, passing you his bag so you can throw it down to him once he is on solid ground. Once he reaches the earth again you throw down his bag followed by yours. He catches them and puts them down on the ground. Now it's your turn to make the descent.

You make it most of the way down without fail, but the place where you put your left foot collapses and you are forced to jump back and onto the dirt covered ground. Luckily you don’t hurt yourself but in the process you manage to basically slam into your companion. He lets out a sound at the impact, “woah there.” “Sorry Scott.”

After another hour you finally reach the edge of civilization and you exchange grins with the blonde boy. You had made it with close to little hiccups. Making it onto town, you and Scott begin to brainstorm what to do now. “We need to get further away before first light, then people might see the two of us. And when Peter comes asking they will know we were here” You think out loud. “We could hitchhike?” Scott suggests “It's risky but if we walk further out of town we have a better chance of someone who is passing through and not a local?”

You agree to the plan and after a quick break from walking you both set out again. Now that you are out of the dense forest you can see the night sky. It's clear tonight and you can see all the stars, you will miss it in a way. But you made your decision. As you walk, your hand brushes against Scott’s prompting you to snap your arm close to your side, embarrassed. You can sense his head turning to look at you briefly before he looks straight ahead again. Then, if on second thought, he grabs your hand in his, interlocking your pinkies. You look down at your and Scott's hand and smile. Maybe, just maybe it would all work out fine.

I'm not sure about the ending of this one as I kinda didn't know how to finish it but oh well. Im also finishing writing a whole heap of requests, so expect those soon!

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen x reader #higher ground #higherground #higher ground tv show #scott barringer #scott higher ground #scott barringer x reader #scott barringer x you #hayden christensen x you

40 notes · View notes

uncouth-the-fifth · 12 hours

Text

here is my collection of sam and dean winchester reader-inserts 🧛‍♂️👻 enjoy!

Baby I'll Stay (Heaven Can Wait) (witch glamors, fluff, motel smut)

On a hunt with Sam and Dean, your childhood friends and long-term hunting partners, you choose to play bait in order to kill a powerful witch. Thing is, the witch uses a glamor that masks him as the seer's perfect partner—and to you, he looks exactly like Sam.

(You Are A) Natural, Baby (virgin Sam, pure impala sex lol)

part one (oral): You played your fingers on the wheel. Bent over it, squinting at the rain. Slumped back in your seat. All the while, Sam watched you go through the motions passively. He already knew what you knew: you'd have to camp here for the night. Just the two of you. Alone.

part two (oral, sex): “No wonder you’re so wet,” Sam rasps, “you’re already close, aren’t you?” You conceded with a pathetic nod, breathing hard. “All this just from blowing me…” Sam smirks.

Playing House (fake dating + couples cruise) for @daiziesssart

part one: You rolled around everything you wanted to explain to him in your head, but none of it sounded right. Somehow, you landed on: “You think it’s gonna be weird, pretending to be married?” Sam shrugged. “We did it all the time when we were kids, playin’ house.” He closed the zipper of his boot, flashing you an innocent smile. “Can’t be that different, right?"

part two: “My name is _____ Patton,” you introduce in your smoothest, surest voice, “and this is my amazing husband Sam. We’ve been married for…” “—three weeks now,” Sam finishes for you.

Click (first time + cozy winter cabin aesthetic) for @daffodil-mania

“I’m just wondering,” Sam winces, knowing his question is stupid, “why are you still a virgin?” You’re about to laugh in his face, but the earnestness in Sam’s voice makes you hesitate. His question is a genuine one. “...That sounds awful, m’ sorry. But, c’mon. You’re smart enough to know how pretty you are. Charmin’ enough to use it, too. I mean, I’d…” He caught himself. “—Anyone, would, uh…” Sam didn’t finish his thought. He changed his grip on the shotgun swinging from his hand, self-conscious, and cleared his throat. Well. That wasn’t obvious at all. No way in hell you were leaving that alone.

Click, p.2 (angsty love confession sex + season five) for @daffodil-mania

He’s really here. The part of you that had worried the argument with Sam would be your last wails with joy. He’s here, alive and in front of you. No matter how awkward you feel you can’t bring yourself to stop staring at him. By the buttery light of your bedside lamp, he literally glows with beauty, and you realize he’d scrubbed his boots off on your welcome mat to not track mud in, and he’d hung up his rain-soaked jacket in your shower to dry. Stupid polite Sam things. You dare to glance back at your kitchen, then swivel to squint at him. “Did you… do my dishes?” Sam lets his hands relax into his lap and nods, shy. He’s looking at you in a way he never really has before, eyes big and soul-rending. “…Yeah. I used the key you gave me to get in… Hope that’s okay.”

Mandy Davis, you punk ass bitch (birthday fluff for the boy!!!)

You wake up early to make sure you're the first person to wish Sam a happy birthday—since he's basically never had one before.

One of These Nights (cheating-but-not actually angst + Impala makeup sex) for @lacilou

“S’ a good night,” Dean tells you, beaming, “we can do another round, right?” “Hell yeah,” you shrug, and raise your empty glass, “Here’s to alcohol poisoning, baby.” “Yeah,” Dean echoes, almost slurring. “Baby."

#uncouthspn #spn #supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader

38 notes · View notes

teejaystumbles · 17 hours

Text

Against all odds (part 7)

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6

This is all I've got so far but I figured I'd let you have it and hopefully I'll have more soon :3

Hob works at a news agency. As someone with hundreds of years of experiencing political and societal change he has a keen eye for news-worthy happenings. Often he can predict very well which events are important, which will have historical influence or be the talk of the nation for a long time. Hob edits his colleague’s articles and reports, chooses which ones are worthy of printing and which aren’t, tries to remove or at least mitigate the xenophobia and fearmongering in what he hopes are the last days of the Cold War. People don’t need fear to grow, they need hope. He thinks he’ll stop doing this soon, though. His name - Robert Goulding at the moment - pops up in too many places and he doesn’t like being recognizable for more than a few decades. He takes care to not become chief editor and stay out of the limelight but he thinks he’ll move on soon. Maybe he’ll take a break and live off his stock profits. Find a quiet place for him and his stranger, somewhere in the countryside, with a garden…

Hob shakes himself out of his fantasy and laughs at himself. Wishful thinking will hardly be of any use. He’s been wishing and hoping for more time with his stranger for so many centuries. Now it finally seems like he might get lucky enough to have regular contact, via journal entries, and maybe even visits. That is enough. He shouldn’t be greedy.

With a sigh and a silent curse that he stopped smoking he goes to finish his work so he can get home and write an answer to his friend.

In the evening Hob pours himself a whiskey and sits down at his desk, open journal before him. He looks over to his bed. His stranger had sat here last night, watching him. Hob swallows reflexively and takes another sip of his drink, trying to not let his thoughts go down a slippery, horny slope before he starts writing.

June 15th, 1989

Dear friend,

I am glad you felt you could come and visit me and that you feel safe in my presence. I consider it an honour and I want to assure you that I do not mind in the least if you stop by whenever you feel like it. I trust you. Feel free to come here anytime, no matter if I'm awake or not, or if I’m even here. If my place can be a retreat for you from your everyday worries or workplace (as I assume you are busy doing something somewhere), I would be very happy. Leave your shoes off the sofa, that’s all I ask. ;-)

But seriously, my home is your home. I mean it. I look forward to seeing you again as well.

Reading about your ordeal was horrible. I am so sorry this happened to you and that I didn’t hear anything about it. I would have moved everything between Heaven and Earth to free you, my friend, please believe me. You say the ones responsible have been punished but I cannot stop myself from imagining visiting vengeance upon them for your sake. To imprison you someone, anyone, for such a long period of time, in the conditions that you described, is barbaric and the rage I feel at the mere thought is nearly blinding.

I am deeply sorry for your loss and for all you had to endure. I would give you anything in my power to make you feel safe, dear stranger. If you ever need my help, please call me. I don’t know if you had any means to call for help, you probably didn’t, but please - should you ever be in any trouble or danger or in need of help, I urge you to call on me! I will come and help you the best I can, I will not allow you to be trapped ever again. After all, what are friends for, if not for helping one another?

Your problems with closed spaces and strangers are completely understandable and I would never hold it against you if you never want to meet inside a building again. I hope we’ll be able to find a suitable replacement for the old haunt, at least until you feel more at ease again. These things take time, at least for humans, and although I would not dare to insinuate that you are not more robust than the average human and probably not subject to the same physical and mental limits I’d wager a guess that you will need time to heal, my friend. I sincerely ask you to take that time. You strike me as the type to jump headfirst back into work and duty after getting free and that is not recommended, no matter what or how powerful you are. You were imprisoned for 80 years and subjected to torture, you cannot expect to be the same after that. No one should expect you to be the same, to not be changed by it or in need of healing and time to recuperate.

I am only human but in my long life I have met a few other immortal beings, not all of them human but all of them with very similar needs and wants. I know you’re probably bristling right now because I dare to suggest you might be unfit for whatever it is you do but I hope you believe me when I tell you this only because I care for you - you need a break. Please, stranger, promise me you’ll take care of yourself, if you cannot let others do that for you. I would be happy to help in any way I can. Visit me at your leisure, I promise I will never turn you away, or look down on you for showing weakness. You have seen me at my lowest and I have always trusted you to still respect me after that. Just like that, I would never think any less of you for any of this.

I’ll be happy to help you learn more about humanity, get to know humans again. I am honoured that you have elevated me in your mind to something else but I am as human as they come. So if you like me, you can like other humans as well, right?

I will think of a nice place to meet and let you know as soon as I’ve decided. Remember, in the meantime this place is always open to you. Even including watching me sleep. ;-P

Stay safe,

Your friend Hob

Hob puts down the pen and skims over his lines. Yes, that’s not too forward but inviting enough to let his stranger feel safe and welcome. It’s a bit daring, calling his stranger in need of a break, but it’s the right thing to say and offer.

He nods, downs his whiskey and gets ready for bed.

#stay tuned for another dream😘#dreamling #the sandman fanfiction #1989 au #teejay writes

52 notes · View notes

dsireland86 · 2 days

Text

Take Me First PT. 2 (Never Know)

"Lying Is Hard But The Truth Comes Out Anyway" The Grey

A regretful mistake, a car accident, and a baby. God didn't listen to Noah when he begged him to take him first the night of the accident. God had other plans it seemed; plans that brought Noah down to his knees cursing, crying, and praying. In time he began to believe he was nothing but a lost soul trying to find his happiness in the ugly world he lived in, until... she found him and began to return the lost parts of him, piece by piece, he'd thought he'd lost forever.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the long awaited 2nd part to a story that was never meant to have a second part. But I'm very thankful to friends who encouraged me and highly suggested that I write one. I love how I came to tie this cherished story that began with three words from a song into my main two stories. It took some brainstorming, but in the end I don't think it will disappoint. To the ones I've tagged and were expecting the second part, I hope it's what you hoped it would me. Let me know!

TAGS: @lma1986, @myownthoughts12, @xslavicprincess, @foliosgirl, @glitterydeputyshepherdwagon, @jilliemiw86, @sthnog, @lookwhatitcost

Never Know

“Show me you're better off without me/ Choking on every word you said, we'll see, we'll see / Don't breathe another word about me I'll leave and you can finally rest in peace, we'll see”

The Letter She Never Meant To Send

Noah,

By the time you read this, I'll be gone. You have to understand that it's better for both of us this way, if I just vanish from your life and wipe your slate, your consciousness completely clean. Once you're finished with this letter I guarantee you will hate me and loath just the thought of me. My name will become a bitter poison on your tongue and the tongues of those who will no longer be my family because of their loyalty to you. You'll never want to breathe my name let alone any other words about me to anyone. I'm warning you now, Noah, what I'm about to tell you is going to ruin you. It's going to break your heart so badly you're probably going to wish you were dead. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm doing this to you, but it's the only way. You have to know the truth about what happened during those three days in Montana on that last tour we were on together; you deserve to know, because it was the moment that everything changed for us. You're better off without me and in time you'll see. In time you'll be able to rest in peace.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Noah:

“I didn't want to finish the letter. Knowing she was already gone was enough, and reading it, having it spelled out in front of me would’ve only made things worse. But I chose to finish it anyway but regretted the instant I did. I swear I could feel myself slowly slipping away as her words started to bring out the worst in her that I never knew existed."

I rested my forehead against the back of her shoulder.

“I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what you were feeling. Being abandoned is hard, but the lonely place it takes you too is worse.” “You would know, wouldn't you,” I said while playing with her fingers. She leaned back against my chest while sitting between my legs. Turning her head at just the right angle she glided the tip of her nose softly along my jawline that filled with a deep yearning to be inside her again. “Not the same way you do.” I shivered when her lips left a trail of soft kisses on my skin. “Read me more, please. I want to know everything,” she urged. I sighed, and even though I really didn't want to, I knew sharing this part of my life was important for us. So, I continued.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Lying in between the memories choking me, and I don't know which way to go, but I'm okay to never know”

The night you told me the truth about cheating on me, it broke me, but not in the way you might think. I was angry, full of guilt, relief, sorrow, and regret that created a huge mess of emotions I didn’t know how to deal with. Running was my only option. I had to escape the pain of knowing how horribly I'd hurt you and you didn't even know it. Noah, you were brave enough to be honest with me about what you did. You admitted your guilt and how ashamed it made you feel. You truly believed you'd hurt me and watching the way it tore your mind and heart apart left me in agony. I wanted to tell you the truth then, but I just couldn't bring myself to, so I took the coward's way out and ran away.

I called Jolly and cried to him. He didn't understand anything I was saying let alone an idea of what I was talking about, but he did his best to console me anyway. The guilt I felt, knowing what I’d done to his best friend just made everything numb and blur together and with the way I was driving I didn’t see the headlights of the other vehicle in my lane. Jolly was still on the phone when I screamed right as the collision happened. That was the last thing I remembered before I woke up in the hospital. So, what is the truth that was too hard for me to tell you even though I was given the chance to say many times? Noah, I hope you're sitting down, because what I'm about to say is going to be the death of whatever peace your mind had about me.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Noah:

“Noah?” Her soft voice calling to me made me lower my head and when her hand collided with my cheek, her touch brought me back to reality. The past wasn't real, but she was, and so was the feeling of her naked body against mine. Turning herself around so that her legs were on either side of me and her arms were resting on my shoulders, she leaned in and kissed me, slipping her tongue inside my mouth little by little. She was making me so hard and I knew she could feel me between her legs, pressed tightly against that sweet soft spot of hers I loved so much. I couldn’t control the constant twitching that was happening each time she purposely pushed herself into me either.

"She knew exactly what she was doing to you and that’s what hurt you the most. I'm sorry she hurt you,” her voice whispered in my ear before she took a little bit of it in her mouth. “Ughh, fuck baby,” I moaned, squeezing her hips tighter and tugging her closer to me. “That’s what happens,” she said, brushing her breast up against me, her perky nipples grazing across my skin, making it scream. “You let people in and they destroy you. But I won’t.” She sat back and looked at me, the look in her eyes nearly making me cum. She had me wound up so tight that I swallowed hard when she pushed herself into me again and her warm, shaky breath washed over my face. “You deserve so much more than you believe you do, Noah.” Slipping her hands beneath the waistband of my box-briefs, I lifted my bottom up and she slid them down my legs, tossing them aside, retaking her spot over me. “I’ll give you the world, if you want it,” she admitted, laying her mouth on mine and taking my lips to hers as if she owned them; she did. “The moon, the fucking stars. Anything you ask, it’s yours. I’m yours. You can have all of me,” she confessed through a shaky, tear filled voice.

I pulled her way to look at her and my heart felt like it had busted through my chest. She had tears streaming down her cheeks, but the prettiest smile on her lips. I sat up and kissed her tears away tasting their saltiness. “I want all of it,” I admitted, brushing some hair out of her face. “I want all of you, but not just what you let the world see. I want all the broken, busted up parts too; the parts that make you, you. I meant it when I said I would fight the battle for you. I would, I still will. If I have you, then you have all of me too.” She started to cry and I pulled her into me as she laid her head on my shoulder. I fucking loved this girl in my arms more than I ever thought possible. More than the girl in the letter, and that scared me.

After a few moments of silence had passed and I was about to continue reading, the warmth from her hand found my hard cock. Slowly she ran her hand down my shaft, then back up, the grip she had applying the perfect pressure needed to stimulate what I was dying for on the inside. I laid my head back against the couch, zoning into nothing but the feeling of what her hand was doing. The faster she went the harder her grip became and reminded me of what being inside her felt like; heaven. I found her entrance between her wet folds and quietly slipped a finger inside her warm sex enjoying the way she melted into my touch and sucked in a quick breath, followed by a beautifully moan that filled the room. I felt her wetness coat my fingers, making me feel like I had all the power over her I wanted. The truth was though, she was the one with all the power. “I need to be inside you, now.” I ordered. She didn't hesitate to obey but instead shifted enough so that her pussy was aligned perfectly with my hard length.

“Noah, look at me,” she commanded and I listened. Her eyes were vibrant and full of something indescribable, something that I could never put into words; but I felt it and I knew she did too. “I fucking love you.” It slipped out before I could stop myself and I was scared I crossed a line. But her smile took that feeling away. It was genuine, and made me feel the exact way, if not more, I felt when I first saw her. “I love you too; all of you.” She pushed into me and took all of me into her and I watched her expression change as soon as I filled her. Her tight, wet walls closed in on my throbbing cock now buried deep inside her, searching for that special spot that was going to pull all the pretty cries and moans from her that I loved to hear. I gripped her hips, sighing once she began to move slowly, with her hands placed firmly on my chest. But I wanted more and I knew she did too. “I want you to grind on me, baby, ride me till you're satisfied. Ride me till you cum.”

That seemed to be all she needed. Soon I had her crying and moaning so loudly that she dug her nails deep into my skin, squeezed me tighter with her thighs, and let my name fall from her lips like a sacred prayer. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. She pulled my hands to her small breasts, indicating to me she wanted stimulation and I all too willing obliged her. I took each nipple between my finger and thumb, squeezing them until she cried. Once hard and perky, I dragged my tongue lazily over the soft, delicate skin, circling and lapping every part until taking it in my mouth. Her moans pulled my organism closer and I knew I wasn't going to last much longer. Luckily, I didn't have too. Her hands found the back of my head, holding me in place while she fucked me slow and gently and I got her off by sucking my favorite parts of her. “Noah, baby,” she didn't finish her sentence, but she didn't have to. I looked up, grinning at the face I saw. With eyes closed, she was in perfect ecstasy. “Are you gonna cum for me, Princess.” She didn't say anything, just moaned and nodded. “Cum for me then baby, let it go and give us both what we want.”

Her lips crashed into mine and our tongues danced as she came undone all over me and I quickly followed. It wasn't loud, it wasn't messy; it was just us, falling apart for one another together quietly. It was love making in its purest form and in that moment with her I realized the difference between straight fucking with foreplay and making love and how they were very different. We weren’t each other's first. She had a fucked up ex and I had many experiences that left me feeling used. But what she and I had just shared had so many emotions involved, ones that I didn't even know I could feel anymore. She pulled them out of me somehow and allowed me to willingly feel what I had buried away. They were tangled together, knotted and rooted in the dirt of my past. But, thanks to the beautiful human in my arms, for the first time in my life I felt the difference and wasn't afraid to feel them. She made me feel so fucking alive and I loved it.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Speaking in languages we can’t read, no need for you to spell it out for me/ Swallowed up and I’ spit you out, like a drug that just wouldn’t stay down"

Montana was beautiful, Noah, and the idea of visiting it with you was a dream come true. I'll never forget when you came home and told me that it was on the list of states the band was playing. Your excitement was contagious and the way your eyes sparkled and lit up your entire face will forever haunt me. It was one of the last times we were truly happy together. Those three days haunt me, Noah. They hold the worst, but also the best memories. So here it goes… the whole truth.

The first show day went smoothly; you remember I'm sure. We all went out and had a small celebration in that little country bar where Folio rode the mechanical bull until he bled… like seriously bled. I thought I was going to pass out seeing all the blood from his arm. The day of the second show, however, was utter chaos and hell. Everyone woke up late, the venue wasn't unlocked when we got there, and some of the equipment malfunctioned. You were miserable and because you were miserable, so was everyone else. I tried to help, but now know how worse I actually made it for you. And the moment you yelled at me in front of not just the crew but the guys too, I knew things were going to be different between us. It wasn't that you yelled at me, Noah, it was what you said that was the slap to my face. You accused me of being selfish and too self conceited to understand what you were going through, and you know what? You were right. I was, I am those things. And to prove I was, I decided to get back at you in my own way; the way I regret now more than anything.

After storming out of the venue and turning my phone off, I found a bar away from the venue, away from every memory of you. I wanted you out of my head, but mostly out of my heart because I was hurting. So, the first guy who sat down next to me and bought me a few rounds was it. He was the one I chose to make my biggest mistake with. He took me back to his hotel room, which ironically was in the same hotel as ours, you were just one floor above me. I was too drunk to worry about anything, not even caring if the receptionist recognized me.

Noah, I will save you the details of what I did with that man in that hotel room that night. It wasn't at all what I thought it would be, and in the end he left me hurting way more than when I started out. Not just emotionally, but physically too. Thankfully there were no marks on my body, yet, but the bruises would show the following day. I lied and said you did them to me and the look on your face was devastating. I felt like a piece of shit. Maybe I was. No, I know I was. I should burn in hell for what I did to you; what I said to you. You didn't deserve it. But the worst was yet to come when the events of the night you fucked some girl who wasn't me happened and you found out I was pregnant. Nicholas said at first you were too shocked, but when it was time for me to leave the hospital, Matt said it was all you could talk about; how you were going to be a dad and how you had so much faith that the baby would be the thing to tie us back together after your actions ruined us. It wasn't you who ruined us, Noah, it was me, but I couldn't tell you that. Not now. Not with a baby on the way. So, I kept my silence and avoided you as much as I could, using your cheating as the excuse. And I lied to you every day up until… well you know when.

Losing the baby was never, ever the intention, that, I promise, you can believe. I never wanted any harm to come to my baby. But when I woke up last month at seventeen weeks pregnant in a pool of blood, I knew it was over. The lies could stop, the truth could come out and everything would be okay. Except it wasn't, was it? Losing the baby was too hard for you. It made you do things you regret doing and I regret watching, knowing I had the power to stop it all. I know the feeling of loss is still very raw in your heart. You're wounded and reading this letter, knowing I'm long gone, soon to be nothing but a distant memory you'd do anything to forget, is going to throw salt on that wound, but I think it's time for me to help you put your demons to rest.

Noah, the baby…. the baby was never yours to begin with. I mean, honestly, think back to the first time we had sex after that fight. Think…. and you'll remember. If you don't let me help. You wore a condom, Noah and you filled it, but I lied to you and told you it broke because I was scared. The night I spitefully killed us in every way possible was the night I conceived another man's child.

So, you see, none of it was your fault after all. It was mine all along. Did I feel guilt? Yes. Remorse? No. Not until now. Now that I’m walking away from you, I feel every bit of remorse possible, but it’s too late now, isn’t it. The you I knew and loved is gone and so is the girl you knew. And that’s the difference between us, Noah. You felt remorse and it made you so vulnerable.

I hope the next girl you fall in love with is good to you. I hope she is never afraid of your darkness or the demons who dance in your eyes sometimes. I remember the time when you thought no one could ever love you if you revealed what lurks inside you. You’ve always been different, Noah, you know that and how could anyone understand that? But I hope she understands and is never afraid to follow you into your darkness so that she can learn to love the beast that’s inside. I tried to, but in the end I realized that sometimes, true love comes in the form of a loving demon, or a protective monster, or even a dark angel who sits and waits patiently for you to arrive. You are all those things Noah; and I hated you for it. I’m sorry I hated you, because now I know that you were the only one to ever, truly love me.

With All My Love, Always

Sarah

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Noah:

I woke up, flat on my back, head off the pillow, but the blanket over top of me. As my vision cleared, Sophie was nowhere to be seen. My heart started pounding, thinking maybe she regretted last night; the things we did, the things I said. Was it all too much and she felt pressured or overwhelmed? I started to panic, running my hands over my face, trying to convince myself everything was okay, but it didn't help. I sat up, looking around for my shirt only to remember that I'd used it on Sophie, making me remember the corner I threw it in; it was still there.

I needed to find Sophie and make sure everything was good between us, especially now that she knew the truth about me and Sarah. I needed to know if she was still willing to commit herself to me, to us, with this kind of baggage attached, but first I needed a shower. My stomach suddenly hurt, the anxiety nipping away on the inside and it felt like there was a giant hole in me. I needed to fill that hole. I need my girl.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens band #bad omens #bad omens cult #matt dierkes #jolly karlsson #nicholas ruffilo #nick folio

35 notes · View notes

uglyducklingofthe2000s · 2 days

Text

Shivers - Max Verstappen

Summary: Max's girlfriend is always cold unless bundled up in 5 layers (sometimes with a hot water bottle wedged between the layers), lying on a hot beach minimum of 30 degrees(c) or Max's top choice when she tries to latch onto him.

The gif isn't relevant to the story, but it is important to me for reasons it feels inappropriate to share 🥵

ANYWAY, this is for the cold girlies who know the struggle of never being warm (it's me, I hate it. Literally waited to exit the womb 10 days late purely to be born on the hottest day of the year 😉)

No part 2 requests please

Wet races at a form of torture for y/n and with Spa being famous for it's wet weather. Even if it's not really that cold, it's definitely not a place she wants to be.

"Are you sure this is enough?" Max asks as he zips up her jacket as the final layer making her smile and nod. "Are you really sure?"

"You've already got a hot water bottle between the second and third layer. I promise I'm definitely warm." Y/n nods though they both know as soon as she steps outside she'll be shivering. It's actually like there's something wrong with her but really she's just naturally in need of constant warmth.

Admittedly 5 layers is not exactly the wisest for stability and balance but y/n manages to shuffle following Max out the hotel and to the awaiting car where he does lift her up into the car before moving around to the other side.

Max always makes sure the car is well and truly heated before they get in it so she doesn't have to worry about being cold because of the car.

When they walk through the paddock, Max and y/n do end up in conversation with Daniel who looks at y/n and offers her a hug since the world is aware of her inability to maintain any body heat.

"You're shaking a little." Daniel comments with a pout in pity for her while rubbing her back while Max frowns.

"I hate rain." Y/n mumbles before sighing when she's released and pouts looking at Max.

"I'll see you later, mate." Max smiles with a small laugh, wanting to get y/n inside for more warmth.

"No problem, bye y/n." Daniel smiles waving at y/n.

"Bye, Daniel." Y/n smiles returning the gesture.

Usually Max prefers to just go home and spend time with the cats and on the simulator. But every so often, especially when he knows it's not going to be the warmest weather in Monaco. Since it's the summer break, they've got plenty of time for him to be on the sim and hidden away in Monaco.

So they're away in Hawaii.

Their villa seems to come with a slightly more private bit of beach which gives Max the privacy he's always hoping for.

"You look warm." Max smiles as he finds y/n sitting very much in the heat of the sun.

He's really let her relish but the nurturing side of him can't help but need to apply and reapply sunscreen on her to make sure there's no sun damage since he knows she still cares about the health of her skin.

"I am...you brought me food?" Y/n gasps with a smile.

Max places the tray of food down in front of her since he knows it's been a while since either of them ate so when he went inside to use the toilet, he also decided to grab them some snacks.

Seeing y/n thrive in the heat and sun is actually a very comforting sight. The glow around her in the sun is just something that he doesn't get to see nearly as often as he'd like. She always struggles so much in the ever-changing weather that they face in Europe but just being in the warmth in Hawaii in the depth of summer is really a perfect and y/n is so happy it makes the travel worth every second.

Especially since whenever y/n is happy, so is Max.

Not to mention seeing her body so completely exposed is never a sight that Max wants denied from himself, but usually he does only get to see her completely naked in the shower, bath, getting changed or during sex and even then sometimes she manages to keep a t-shirt on just as a layer of warmth.

With that in mind, before applying the new layer of spf, he leans forward and kisses as much surface area of her skin while he can.

"Maxie." Y/n laughs not quite used to being ravished by such physical attention, especially not out in the open for the rest of the world to see. Though admittedly, Max never actually shies away from physical affection so maybe she shouldn't be so surprised by it.

Max staying up late with his e-racing team isn't uncommon when they're home. Y/n tends to try and keep herself busy during those hours, allowing him to sleep. On this occasion she decided to restock the house with plenty of food, especially for the cats since Max gets them the best food they can buy in store, along with buying extra stuff online.

But she definitely was deceived by the sun, because it's certainly not as warm as she would've liked so after making the quickest possible job of unpacking the food. She tip-toes to the dark bedroom, her body a shadow as she strips down, hating the cold air wrapping around her body before she lifts the blanket and eases herself down onto the bed.

"Y/n?" Max mumbles as she feels his body heat practically burn her in comparison to his body.

"Sorry." Y/n whispers hoping not to disturb him anymore than she already has.

Max doesn't even need to guess as to why she's climbing back into bed with him, all he does is shift and move till her cooler body is lying underneath his own.

He has to smile a little at the feeling of her skin against his own as they lie together.

"Talk to me." Max mumbles knowing she won't fall asleep till she's completely warmed up and even with him lying on top of her like a bear, and if there's one thing he loves, it's hearing her voice. So getting her to talk is definitely something that will add to this moment.

Y/n tells him about shopping and how she spent the morning, including buying them both some expensive cake purely motivated by the fact it looks so good that she passed it 5 times before caving into the urge.

"You're so pretty, you know that?" Y/n whispers suddenly and while Max doesn't quite have the energy to open his eyes, she feels his smile before he turns his head just enough to kiss her skin as she runs her hands through his hair. "I love you."

"I love you too." Max hums noticing the weight of sleep beginning to appear in her voice.

It's not long before they've both dropped off from being awake, Max still exhausted from his late night and y/n successfully lulled back to sleep from the heat of his body. They'll probably spend the whole day like that if they go undisturbed.

Max is more than happy to waste a day cuddling with his girlfriend and y/n is more than happy to waste the day completely smothered under Max's body. It's not like they get that many days to spend like this, so on the rare occasion it's certainly not going to be something they deny themselves from enjoying.

730 notes · View notes

partially-controlled-chaos · 18 hours

Text

New Life Shall Prosper, ch 4 (End)

Pairing: Halsin x Reader (as gender neutral as possible, given the context)

Rating: T? (not really smut, but there are some little spicy moments later on)

Warnings: Little spicy moments, but nothing extreme. Pregnancy complications, birthing process that isn't graphic, so much dialogue

Summary: Months after the fall of the Absolute, you and Halsin have carved a happy life for yourselves within Thaniel's Realm, making a safe haven for all. A life full of hope and prosperity, only enhanced once you discover the very real possibility that you are with child.

Word Count: 6.7K

an: Finally managed to get this chapter and story wrapped up. It's certainly been one of my favorites to write and I'll miss working on it! I have more Halsin stuff in the works coming up relatively soon along with some other fics focused on different characters. You can find the next piece of Halsin work here. Thank you so, so much to everyone that has left comments, likes, and reblog on this story!

Follow up to this post.

Read on AO3 here if you prefer!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Masterlist

Gentle rays of moonlight trickled in through the large window of your common room, illuminating your path just enough so you avoided bumping into furniture as you paced the room, hoping walking and rocking would be enough to soothe the crying newborn in your arms. You yawned deeply as you turned at the end of the room, softly running your hand along the back of the baby as you held them close to your chest, shushing and soothing as you walked. You’d been trying for the better part of an hour to coax your little one back to sleep and failing abysmally. A quick change of clothes and a late night feeding had worked temporarily when the cries first jolted you from your own sleep, but had soon started again until you found yourself in your current predicament. You weren’t sure what would calm the child, but you hoped and prayed you would find the solution soon enough so you could return to your own sleep.

Life with a newborn had certainly taken some getting accustomed to, but you and Halsin had both quickly adapted to the change. It was easiest to take turns in seeing to the baby when they cried late at night or early in the morning so you both could get as much sleep and rest as possible. Not that either of you minded, of course. Despite the annoyance that came with being awake in the middle of the night, you both secretly enjoyed spending alone time with your little one. Tonight, however, was different. You were desperate to return to sleep and it seemed that your beloved child was doing everything they could to keep you from your bed.

Your latest turn from your pacing was suddenly interrupted by an unmovable wall blocking your path, making you come to a stop. Halsin stood before you, ready to pull the crying child from your arms and take over so you could have a rest. He looked at you with a gentle smile, seeing the exhaustion on your face as he cupped your cheek. You leaned into his touch, your eyes closing momentarily as his thumb lightly traced over your cheekbone.

“May I?” He asked in a low voice; his hands gesturing to the infant still wailing in your grasp.

“Please do.” You said as you loosened your grip enough to allow Halsin’s hands to slip between yours and pick up the baby. It took a moment, but soon enough the child was lifted from your arms and quickly placed against Halsin’s broad chest.

“Go rest, my heart,” he whispered, “I can take it from here.” You mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ before standing on the tips of your toes to peck the druid on the cheek before retiring for the night.

As much as you would have preferred crawling into your bed, your legs and body were too tired to make the short walk to the bedchambers. Instead, you found yourself almost collapsing onto the couch, flopping onto the cushions with a deep sigh and closed eyes. You felt a pleasant warmth on your cheeks and you opened your eyes briefly to see that Halsin had taken the time to light the fireplace before taking the child from you. You rolled to your side, facing the fire as you curled into yourself for a rest. It wasn’t long before you felt a light blanket be draped over your body and another soft caress to your cheek by Halsin’s gentle hand.

It was still the middle of the night when your eyes reopened from your quick nap. You weren’t sure how long you had managed to close your eyes, but you knew it wasn’t as long as you had wanted. The cries from your child had mostly quieted down by now and in your exhaustion you managed to catch a glimpse of Halsin making his way to the fireplace with the infant still pressed to his chest. Halsin eased his way into the rocking chair by the softly crackling fireplace, holding the fussy newborn close to his chest. Once he had settled, he shifted the baby to be cradled in the crook of his arm, gently patting their backside with his unoccupied hand. With one leg outstretched, he slowly began to rock the chair, easing the child into a peaceful lull as the cries and whimpers steadily began to soften. You smiled as you watched him rock and admire the small infant in his arms, the hazy glow of the fire reflecting off the swell of tears forming in Halsin’s eyes.

“Nature has created the most perfect of creations with you, my little one,” he whispered, “and has allowed me to cradle your perfection in my arms.” He planted a feather light kiss to their full cheeks as he continued to rock and soothe his beloved child.

From the moment the child was born, Halsin was smitten; shamelessly enthralled with every tiny movement and noise the baby offered. The love and adoration that settled in his eyes each time he gazed upon their angelic face warmed your heart and filled you with flutters. You always knew that Halsin would be a loving father, but to see it with your own eyes was an entirely different feeling. It was something real and tangible, but mostly it was something that made you love him even more. Halsin was gentle giant, holding the infant carefully and with a light touch, but you also knew he would rip though anything that posed a threat to this small child that had him utterly wrapped around their tiny finger.

Halsin held the infant in front of him, cradling their head and body in his hands as he simply marveled at the gift that had been bestowed upon him. Like he frequently did with you, he pressed his forehead to theirs, closing his eyes and he eased his rocking, simply sitting in silence and stillness as he savored the moment. His smile was wide as he heard more grunts and mewls pass through the lips of the infant he cradled, his eyes opening again to watch them as they did so. Once he pulled away from the baby, he left a long, lingering kiss to the soft skin where his forehead was previously resting.

Halsin shifted the baby a final time, placing them at the height of his chest before reclining back and resting his own head along the top of the chair with his eyes closed as the rocking resumed. You heard him hum a slow tune softly, something you can’t recall having ever heard from the druid, even during your travels. He continued his song while using his thumb to run small, slow circles along the back of the baby finally sleeping on his chest; the vibrations in his chest seemingly being the thing that finally made them rest. When his humming finally came to an end, Halsin opened his eyes and glanced to you, still expecting you to be asleep. You met each other with wide smiles and you noticed the faintest hint of a blush creep across the druid’s cheeks when he realized he’d been caught in a precious moment.

“You’re supposed to be resting, my heart.” Halsin whispered to you as he continued to rock. You offered a quick nod as you rolled onto your back. With a deep sigh, you shifted a bit until you were comfortable again, eventually drifting back to sleep to the sound of Halsin picking up the tune once more.

You awoke a final time some time later to the feeling of Halsin’s arms hooking underneath your knees and behind your back, gently lifting you from your spot on the couch to presumably be transferred to bed. He must have already put the child back to bed and was now coming to retrieve you to do the same. You didn’t protest as he lifted you and simply let him care for you in the moment.

“What was the song?” You asked sleepily, your eyes still closed and limbs completely limp in Halsin’s embrace.

“A parting gift from my mother,” he said as he carried you to the bedchamber, “I can’t say I remember the words all too well, but the tune will suffice for now.”

“It’s lovely.” Your dangling legs swayed gently as Halsin walked the short distance to your bedchambers, noting that he was stepping as quietly as possible to avoid waking that baby that had kept you both awake for some time now.

“I’ll teach it to you one day,” Halsin murmured as he lowered you onto the soft sheets of your bed, “but right now you should sleep. Silvanus knows our little one will be up again in a few hours with a hungry belly.” You simply hummed in response as you drifted on the edge of a peaceful slumber. You reached up and took Halsin by the arm when you felt his weight shift from the bed, lazily pulling him towards you.

“Stay,” you said, “you need rest too, love.” You knew all too well that Halsin had a tendency to overwork himself when he felt an obligation towards something and the last thing either of you needed was for him to have a burnout. And, more selfishly, you found that you slept better with him by your side. Those months he was away while you were still with child were filled with nothing but sleepless nights and a worried mind. You had started sleeping on his side of the bed in his absence just to catch any lingering traces of his scent in the sheets.

Without another word, you felt the druid slip into bed beside you and you quickly melted into his embrace. Your face was pressed lightly against his chest with your arms folded between your bodies. Halsin slowly rubbed the length of your back with his hand, not quite ready to sleep himself, but was never one to turn down your request for an embrace. Your eyelids became heavy and your breathing began to slow as you finally drifted off to a much needed sleep. You knew that Halsin was right and that your sleeping baby would soon wake and you’d once again be called upon, but for now you simply indulged in a long rest.

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

“Hello, my darlings.” You said with a smile as you quickly were overwhelmed with swarming children, all reaching up for a hug of some sort. You watched where you stepped, being careful not to slip on the wet grass and the mud leading to the pond. Halsin stood from where he was crouched by the water, a soft smile greeting you as you made your way over to him. You greeted the remaining children that had stayed by the druid, offering hugs of your own and gentle head pats.

“And hello to you, my love.” You said as you met Halsin with a kiss to the cheek, “What lesson is on the books for today?” Despite Halsin doing his best to simply allow the children of the land to enjoy nature and fill their days with play and laughter, he found himself obligated to teach the children about nature and how to respect the land. Or, in this case, learn new ways to pass the time.

“Skipping stones,” he said as he stood, “the best practices and tricks for finding the perfect stones, of course.”

“Of course,” you repeated, leaning forward to peek inside the bundle strapped to his chest, “and how has your little helper fared?” You pulled back the edge of the cloth, revealing a small, beaming face within the fabric. You grinned widely, leaning in again to place a kiss to the cheek of your child.

“I do believe they napped the entire time,” Halsin said as he patted the backside of the child, “they’ll have to return for the next lesson.”

Once your newborn had grown a bit and were a few months old, Halsin started taking them along with him on his day to day activities, already eager to show them the wonders nature had to offer. You often found him surrounded by the other children, eagerly listening to one of his stories or paying close attention to the lesson he offered for the day. But since he started bringing the baby with him, you always found the little one secured to his chest by being wrapped in a sling. Although, by now, they could stand on their own and had even started walking, making them almost too big to be carried around. You knew that soon enough you would no longer wander into the forest and see your child secured to your lover and the thought saddened you, but was quickly replaced by the thrill of know you’d eventually see them toddling behind their father with the utmost enthusiasm.

You took your child from the sling around Halsin, ready to give him a break and also sneak in your own time for baby snuggles. You were greeted with a hug from a tiny set of arms and you eagerly accepted the affections. With his chest now free, the children saw their opportunity to stop the lesson for the day and switch to playing. It wasn’t long before you heard the numerous pleas for the bear, the children of the land always excited to roughhouse with a looming bear and even sneak in a ride or two in the process. Halsin willfully agreed, quickly transforming into the large cave bear you so greatly adored after erupting from a ball of light.

While the bear played with the children, you expected to spend a few quiet moments with your not-so-little baby, but you couldn’t help but notice the wide eyed expression on your child’s face. Despite spending a large portion of his time as a bear, Halsin had never been in wild shape while in the presence of the child, for fear that such a large beast would frighten such a tiny baby. But now as the bear stood only a few meters away, there was nothing but awe and a bit of curiosity behind their eyes. It wasn’t long before they became fussy in your arms, their desire to inspect the bear further becoming obvious. It took considerable effort on your part to keep the child seated to prevent from them toddling into the group.

When the children dispersed for the afternoon, thoroughly tired from both learning and play, you approached Halsin before he could wild shape back into his usual elven form. Given the excitement shown by your little one, you decided that now would probably be a good time to introduce them to the large cave bear. You knelt to one knee, setting your child on the other as the bear approached, crouching himself to give the child a better reach. There was a brief moment of hesitation, but soon enough the child had lunged forward and had taken fistfuls of fur.

“Gently now, little one,” you said as you held the child in your arms, “gentle hands with the bear.” You had to coax their small hand to release the clump of fur they’d latched onto. You were thankful that even in bear form, Halsin had nothing but patience for the child. Halsin released a low grunt, something you could only attribute to being his best attempt at a chuckle. You were still kicking yourself for not learning how to communicate with beasts without the aid of a potion.

The bear let out a large huff, the puff of air coming from their nostrils blowing against the child’s face. They erupted in giggles, evidently enjoying the sensation. You laughed with the child, relief washing over you as you soon realized that they weren’t fearful of the looming size of their cave bear of a father, although you made a note to keep an eye on them as they got older. The last thing you wanted was your little one to become too comfortable with the wild creatures surrounding the forest and winding up petting the wrong bear. That could wait for the moment, however.

Tiny hands returned to the snout of the bear once again, this time with a much gentler grasp. They ran their fingers through the coarse fur, lightly scratching at the skin underneath. You sat the child to the ground when they began to bounce in your lap, more than ready to be let free and play with their new-found bear. They stood on slightly wobbly legs, finding it difficult to find footing on the uneven ground, but eventually managed to stand unassisted. You watched as they stared at the bear with curiosity and adoration, smiling as they observed the bear. Halsin brought his snout to the child’s head, taking in their scent while also tickling them with the movement of a cold, wet nose.

“Papa.” Tiny words spoken from an even tinier person stopped you and the bear in your spots, utterly surprised at the first word spoken by your child.

“What did you say, little one?” You asked, still surprised they had spoken at all.

“Papa.” They repeated, their smiling beaming up at the equally surprised bear. Halsin nuzzled his forehead against the child, the sheer size of his head almost being enough to push them over, but you supported them with a hand to their back. Your little one nuzzled back, forehead running along any bit of fur they could find. You were beginning to wonder if the frequent forehead bumps you shared with Halsin were more elven in nature or more ursine. Either way, you adored them and it appeared that your child would be doing them frequently as well.

“I do believe we’ve found your new name, my love.” You said as the child continued to rub their head against the bear. You found ‘Papa’ to be quite the fitting name for Halsin. ‘Father’ seemed to be too formal and the adopted children of the land already claimed ‘Daddy Halsin’. Now you were curious as to what your child would end up calling you.

A splash in the pond behind the bear caught the attention of the child, who toddled to the side as easily as they could to see what caused the disturbance. Moments later, a fish jumped from under the water to snap at a passing bug, flipping in the air before splashing back into the cool water. Before you could put together what was happening, the little one darted for the water line, fascinated by the display in front of them.

Their escape for short lived, however. Your bear of a druid caught them before they could even step a tiny foot on the shore, latching his teeth onto the back of their tunic and hoisting them into the air as he stood. Once again, the child erupted in a series of giggles as they were suspended in the air, letting their legs swing freely. The cave bear gave a grunt before walking from the shore, still carrying the child in his jaws as he meandered towards the shade of a large oak for a nap.

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

Your eyes opened to the sound of small, bare feet quickly running towards your bed chamber. Moments later, the door to the room opened just slightly, wide enough for your little one to sneak their way inside. The sun had not yet risen, although dawn was fast approaching, and as usual, your child had managed to wake before you or even Halsin. You heard the faintest of giggles and shuffling of feet the child made their way to the foot of the bed, not so elegantly wiggling their way under the blankets of the bed before hoisting themselves onto the plush mattress. You watched silently as the lump that was still giggling at your feet blindly worked their way up, bumping between Halsin’s legs and your own.

After a short while, your little one poked their head out from the covers, hair full of static and a beaming smile on their face. Initially, their gaze settled on their father, but seeing that the druid was sleeping heavily, they turned their attention to you. Without a bit of hesitation, your child practically fell into you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with a muffled giggle. You wrapped your arms around their wiggling body, finally getting them to settle into your embrace.

“Good morning, little one.” You whispered before giving them a soft kiss to the cheek. You smoothed their hair back along their head, revealing their pretty little face and pointed ears to your view.

“Outside?” They whispered excitedly, their eyes beaming with anticipation. You chuckled to yourself as you tucked a lock of hair behind their ear.

“Soon, my little love. Once the sun is up.” You had never imagined that you could meet someone more enthusiastic about nature and being in the outside world, but that person was now nestled securely in your arms. You couldn’t recall a single day that had passed where you little one wasn’t jumping at the idea of being out in nature; much like their father. You missed the days when they were a newborn and were content to simply sleep against your chest most of the day, but you couldn’t deny that you loved seeing their excitement and enthusiasm for each new day.

The child settled down once again, playing with the tassels to your sleep shirt as they impatiently waited for the first trickles of sunlight to come into the room. You silently admired your little one as they twisted and pulled at the tassels, simply taking in their features as you held them against you. They had certainly taken after their father in more ways than one. When you looked into your child’s eyes, you saw Halsin. They shared the same eye color, but also had the same tenderness and adoration for others that you found captivating. The same shade of chestnut brown hair sprouted for their head and had grown long enough to even have braids similar to Halsin’s. And of course the points to their ears, which happened to be your favorite feature, even held the same shape of the druid.

It wasn’t long before the sun began to crest the horizon and illuminate your bedchamber in a soft glow. Halsin stirred beside you, a sound similar to a growl coming from his chest as he shifted. The arm that was tucked underneath his head emerged, reaching across the bed to blindly search for you. You heard a small, excited gasp come from the child in your arms when they realized that not only was the sun up, but Halsin was close to finally waking up for the day. Without a moment of hesitation, they quickly crawled out of your arms and towards their father, trying to suppress giggles in the process.

“Papa,” the child whispered as they tapped tiny fingers against his face in an attempt to wake him fully, “Papa!” Halsin’s eyes opened after a few abrupt smacks to his face, blinking away the surprise before his eyes finally settled on the overly excited toddler that was kneeling before him.

“Yes, my heart?” He asked groggily. Halsin placed a large hand on the side of their small head, leaning forward slightly to bump his forehead against theirs before return back to his pillow

“Outside? Please?” They begged, practically vibrating in place as they eagerly awaited permission.

“Of course, love.” With an excited squeal, you watched as you child stood to bounce in place for a moment before crawling over Halsin, who grunted after receiving a few solid steps to the ribs. You heard small feet land on the wooden floors with a thud before excitedly scampering back towards the door. The fast paced footsteps of the child running from the bedchamber towards their own quickly quieted down and you were allowed a quiet moment with your lover.

“Were you so eager as a child?” You asked as you propped yourself up on your elbow, reaching over to run your hands through Halsin’s hair to work out the evidence of sleep.

“It’s like looking in a mirror.” Halsin said as he placed his hand over yours, kissing your palm as your hand trailed down his cheek, “Although, they’re much more polite about it than I was. I almost gave my poor mother a heart attack one morning when she found that I’d climbed the tallest tree in the region without a way down.”

“I can imagine why.” You leaned forward as you spoke, indulging in a good morning kiss with your love before getting started for the day. Halsin smiled against your lips, always happy to feel your lips against his. It wasn’t long before you felt him deepen the kiss, his teeth nibbling against your bottom lip and pulling you towards him with a satisfied growl. The union was short lived, however, when you heard the pitter-patter of footsteps coming back towards your bedchamber.

“Outside, Papa! Outside!” Your little one stomped into the room once again, clearly unsatisfied at the fact that neither of you had gotten out of bed yet. There was an entire world to explore outside the confines of your small home, and your wild spirited child was determined to make the most of it.

“We’re coming, my heart,” Halsin said with a chuckle, “we’re coming.” The druid rolled to his opposite side and eventually out of the bed, allowing himself a quick stretch before scooping the impatient child into his arms to carry them.

You followed suit, flinging the blanket from your legs and sitting up on the edge of your warm bed. You hesitated briefly, stopping to take a slow breath in and out as you bit down the bile sitting high in your throat. You had been ill late into the evening; the remaining burn from your wrenching still caught in your windpipe. By the time you were finally well enough to get up and joined with Halsin in the doorway, you noticed the all too familiar look of concern beginning to settle on Halsin’s face, deepening the frown lines on his forehead in the process. He gently tilted your chin to meet his gaze with the side of his forefinger, giving you a quick glance over.

“Just a bit of indigestion, my love. Nothing to worry about.” You reassured him with a soft kiss to the finger holding your chin and a gentle squeeze of the hand. As hard as you tried to unburden your dear druid, you knew he would always fret over the smallest signs of something wrong or ill about you and your shared child. Although you weren’t sure if it was just the natural healer in him or if it was his natural need to keep those closest to him safe; perhaps it was both.

While Halsin busied himself with dressing both himself and his high energy child for the day, you took a moment to prepare a basket, the idea of a picnic sounding wonderful. In a small wicker basket, you gathered a blanket and a bit of water along with Halsin’s whittling knife and a book on knitting for yourself. Food could be picked up as you passed the market, but you had your mind set on plucking fresh fruit from a particular tree in the section of forest you’d be traveling to. With your supplies secured neatly under the blanket, you slung the basket onto your arm as your small family emerged dressed for the day, minus a pair of shoes for the child eagerly waiting at the door.

You walked hand in hand with Halsin as you strolled town, your little one bounding ahead of you only to stop on occasion and wait for you to catch up. The child bounced in their spot, impatiently awaiting the moment they could step into the forest, but knew better than to run too fear ahead. As you strolled, you couldn’t help but admire the home that was flourishing before you. What as once nothing but shadows ridden lands only a handful of years ago was now a brightly illuminated beacon of hope and sanctuary where nature flourished while still yielding to the needs of a small community; the balance Halsin had always dreamed of achieving had come to fruition. It filled you with a warm comfort that you could raise a child in a place that was not only safe and thriving, but to raise them with someone so full of love for the child that it was almost overwhelming. You and the child you shared were everything to Halsin.

It wasn’t long before you finally reached the edge of town that led to a familiar patch of forest. With a quick glance to you and Halsin for a sign of approval, your child waited along the threshold of the forest, a wide smile spread across their lips. Halsin gave a simple nod and before you knew it, the little one was bounding full force into the grass. You could hear the symphony of giggles of laughs bounce around you, causing you chest to flutter at the wondrous sound of happiness from your little one.

“I don’t think I could name a sweeter sound.” You said softly, leaning into Halsin’s embrace as you stopped to watch the toddler dart across the field with their arms outstretched.

“Well, I’m not so sure about that, my heart.” Halsin said as he released the grip on your hand and slid his arm along your side before settling along your hip. You shot him a quizzical look, your eyebrow raising slightly as you watched a sly grin creep across his lips, “You certainly make many sweet, beautiful sounds when we’re alone.”

Just as you turn to playfully scold Halsin for the remark, your child jumped from behind a nearby tree, small teeth bared with an even smaller growl and hands raised with curled fingers to imitate claws. Given that they weren’t quite old enough to wild shape into a bear themselves and adored their father even more when he was transfigured into ursine form, you often found the little one imitating a bear as they played. Halsin released his grip on you and joined in on the game, mimicking the child’s stance with a hunched back and a smile that kept breaking the appearance of bared teeth. You watched as he ever so slowly stalked towards the cub, flexing his fingers to signal he was ready to pounce.

Before Halsin could make the first move, the child darted off with a laugh, running as fast as their little legs could carry them as Halsin followed in pursuit. You happily watched as your love chased your cub through the grass and flowers of the forest, listening to the laughs and growls coming from them both. As they made their way across the field, too engrossed in their game to notice your absence, you took the time to slink away to collect the fruit you’d had your mind on for days now. With your basket still in hand, you wandered among the trees until you found one that was all too familiar.

The plum tree you’d almost picked clean the night you discovered you were with child stood before you, its limbs heavy with new fruit ripe for the plucking. You bit your lip in anticipation as you swiftly hoisted yourself onto the lower branches, selecting the ripest of plums from their stems and placed them in your basket. You could practically feel your mouth watering as you picked supple fruits from the tree; a low growl settling in your stomach as you chose which ones to take and which ones to leave. Once you’d nearly filled the basket with your prize fruit, you made your way back down and rejoined your small family across the way.

By the time you’d returned, Halsin had finally caught the little one, scooping them up mid stride and lifted them high above his head. Giddy laughs erupted from the child as they were caught, their face flushed from exertion. He tossed the child into the air just a bit, catching them in a firm grasp and being rewarded with a louder laugh each time they landed in their father’s hands. After a few tosses, Halsin held them in his grasp, holding them with one arm as he used his free hand to swipe stray hair from their eyes.

“What have you got there, my love?” Halsin asked as he eyed your now full basket of fruit.

“Breakfast.” You replied simply, holding your basket on your arm once again.

You removed your blanket from your basket, being careful not to spill the dozens of plums you’d plucked from the tree, and spread it out at the base of a shady oak nearby. Sometime between being picked up by Halsin and you having the blanket fully spread out, your little one had fallen asleep in Halsin’s arms, their head resting on his shoulder. From rising early to running to their hearts content, they had managed to tire out rather quickly. You and Halsin took turns placing a soft kiss to their small cheeks before the druid placed them gently on the blanket, making sure they were resting in the coolness shade instead of the direct spot of the sun.

It wasn’t long before you were both settled on the blanket, your backs resting along the tree you sat under, your child sleeping peacefully by your feet. You dug through the remaining contents of the basket you brought, handing Halsin his whittling materials and you grabbed your book. You also picked up one of the plums you’d picked earlier, giving it a long sniff before sinking your teeth into the plump flesh. You gave a satisfied sigh as you cracked the book open to the beginning. As you began reading, you kept yourself supplied with your freshly picked fruit, reaching into your basket for a new one with each plum you finished. Before long, you’d quickly amassed a pile of plum pits by your side.

“You’ve decided to give knitting another try, have you?” Halsin asked as you settled against him, your eyes fixed on the book in your hand. After the disastrous sweater you’d attempted to make when you were still with child, you were discouraged enough to not pick up your set of knitting needles again and had simply asked a few of the older women in town to make you a few outfits for your newborn. But that was a few years past now and you had a new desire to try your hand at it again.

“May as well,” you said as you turned the page, “after all, what kind of savior would I be if I let a ball of yard be my undoing.” Halsin chuckled at your response, always finding your stubbornness peeking through. He managed to obtain a few plums from your pile, finding you almost hesitant to relinquish your find.

You sat in silence as your child napped by your feet in the morning sun, simply enjoying each others company and the calmness to the morning. Halsin whittled away at a branch he had found at the base of the tree, turning the piece over and over between his fingers as he worked out just what to carve.

A light breeze swept across the field, lazily rolling across the pages of your book and obstructing your view as they fluttered in the wind. You had just smoothed them back and found your place in the wording when you felt Halsin’s fingers lightly grip your jaw, turning your head until you could no longer see the pages of your book, your head tilted away and upwards with the side of your neck exposed to him. You had expected languid kisses or even a few bites, but instead you were met with his nose pressed in the small dip behind your earlobe. You giggled and squirmed against his grasp, the feeling of air leaving his nostrils tickled the sensitive skin of your neck as he took in your scent.

“Something on your mind?” You asked between laughs, being mindful not to nudge your sleeping child awake with a stray leg kick.

“I caught your scent in the wind,” he said as he pulled away from your neck, keeping his touch on your jaw, “it’s harder to smell when not in ursine form, but it’s…” His voice trailed off when his eyes caught your expression.

“Yes, my love?” You asked with a playful smile as Halsin’s eyes darted between you, your book, and your basket of plums. It was evident he had something on his mind, he just wasn’t sure how to approach the subject. The faintest traces of a smirk toyed with the corner of his lip, his mind turning over and over at it worked with the information now in his hands.

“It’s nothing,” he said eventually, “although, I can’t help but notice that you’ve regained your taste for plums, my heart.” After having more than your fill of plums with your pregnancy, you had hardly touched the fruit since. You’d indulge in the occasional one here and there, but you certainly hadn’t eaten an entire basket full in quite some time. Although that had changed as of late; your desire for the sweet fruit growing more and more persistent as each day passed.

“It seems I have.” You said playfully as you closed your book, rolling your head to the side to meet his gaze, “It’s quite a peculiar craving, is it not?”

“Would you go so far as to say its…an insatiable craving?” Halsin ran his thumb softly against your lower lip, eagerly awaiting your response. You could faintly see his heart beating in his neck, the steady thrum picking up speed the longer he waited for an answer. He was certainly excited for whatever game you were playing.

“I believe that’s an excellent way to word it. Insatiable.” Halsin huffed a laugh, his lips finally curling into a smile as he pulled your chin closer towards him.

“What other little oddities have you been keeping from me then, my love?” Halsin captured your lips with his, kissing you deeply before speaking again, “I’m beginning to think it wasn’t merely a bit of indigestion this morning.” You smiled against his lips, thoroughly enthused that the pieces were beginning to click into place for him.

“I was wondering when you’d catch on.” You murmured softly, your words echoing what Halsin himself had told you the night you first discovered you were with child.

“By Silvanus’ beard,” Halsin said breathlessly, “are you really?” You simply nodded in response, your smile beaming wider.

You had suspected that you were with child for quite some time now, given that you had almost all of the symptoms from your previous pregnancy begin to pop up in the past few weeks, but you had wanted to wait for the passing of the most recent lunar cycle to be sure. And as you had expected, the full moon had come and gone and was on the verge of returning once again and you had yet to start a bleeding cycle. So, without a bit of doubt, you were in the beginning stages of a second pregnancy.

“How long have you known?” Halsin asked as took the book from your hands, tossing it to the side and out of the way.

“I’ve suspected for some time,” you said quietly, “I wanted to wait for this most recent moon cycle to pass to be sure.”

“You truly are extraordinary, my heart.” Halsin pulled you into his embrace, your head resting on his shoulder.

Your little one stirred at your feet, groggily waking up with a stretch. With messy hair and eyes still half closed, they quickly crawled towards you both, snuggling between you and Halsin with their head resting in your lap and legs thrown over Halsin’s. It wasn’t long before they were asleep again, evidently just wanting to be part of the embrace of their parents. You smoothed their hair with a soft smile as you settled in against Halsin. His large arms were wrapped securely around you, holding you close as you felt one of his hands drift to your belly and the familiar touch of his forehead to yours. You sat there in a happy silence, entangled in one another, listening to the sounds of the forest and in the warmth of the sun.

Tag List: @incrediblethirst @reignydeys @thoughts-of-bear @im-eating-rn @beardedladyqueen @simplysaying @emorylovescats @distelsterncat @cryingoverpixelsetc @knightofmight01 @seawingqueenconch @moonlightdruid

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #halsin #daddy halsin #halsin x reader #reader x halsin #halsin x gender neutral reader #fanfic #fanfiction #halsin romance #halsin fluff #brainrot #halsin brainrot #pregnancy

38 notes · View notes