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dkniade · 6 months ago

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Some misc fic recommendations!

Teyvat scholar, Venti (ft. Traveler)

“Excerpt from the book ‘Brand New Verses From The Bard of Bards’” by threading_in_dreams (@/a-yarn-of-purple-prose)

G, 838 words.

canon-typical fragmented publication, Teyvat scholars have fun but also suffer, Poetry, pretend this is a book you picked up in-game, Traveler/Venti if you squint

Pages from a book in which a historian ponders about scraps of poetry found buried under Windrise, and argues they're part of Barbatos canon.

Very fun if you like Venti’s Archon/human personas, poetry, and piecing together information from in-game books!

Aether & Paimon (ft. Zhongli)

“Those who share the memories” by liminalpsych (@/liminalpsych-in-teyvat)

G, 3225 words. Fluff and light angst.

Aether POV, scrapbooks, memories, canon complimant, Pre-4.0 update, Liyue Harbor

Stone erodes beneath the fickle breeze and relentless river. Plants wither to be born anew. A flame burns to smoke and ash, and water changes form so often that it forgets even itself. The wind tries hardest of all to forget, fleeing into the far corners of the world to outrun the sands of time.

In the void above, the stars bear lonely witness to mortal memory.

Or: Paimon gets Aether to help her make a scrapbook of their travels. Aether reflects on the weight of witnessing.

Scrapbooking summarizes experiences with many NPCs from World Quests and Archon Quests. This one is kind of structured like an in-game world quest!

Cyno, Diluc, Rosaria, Kaeya

“It’s Time To Duel!” by StrangeDiamond

G, 6,688 words, humour.

Genius Invokation TCG, misunderstandings

When Sumeru’s General Mahamatra shows up in Mondstadt, announcing his intention to duel the Cavalry Captain, misunderstandings ensue.

Humour from knights and vigilantes taking things too seriously

Childe/Lumine

“A meteor” by blood_orange_juice (@/blood-orange-juice)

G, 350 words, fluff, character study/analysis.

Childe POV, First Meetings, morbid fluff, morbid fluff should be a genre with these two

A white-clad figure carefully threads her way through the crowd below. She moves like flecks of sunlight on water, without bothering anyone. A sign of someone who is fun to fight and it draws his attention for a while.

Childe and Lumine's first meeting from Childe's POV. No plot, only vibes.

Shenhe & Xiao, Cloud Retainer & Shenhe

“Like a Pair of Hunting Birds” by yelp

T, 5881 words, hurt/comfort, character study.

found family, trauma, feral child Shenhe, feral ancient Xiao, good and bad ways to manage emotions

"These were granted to me by Cloud Retainer," Shenhe explains, touching the ropes that he appears to be studying. "They bind away my murderous tendencies, as well as human emotion. Two dangerous traits for an adeptus, or for one who walks among them."

Xiao comes a little closer, and circles her. Obligingly, she lifts her hair aside, so he can see the intricate knotwork on her back, and he exhales a sigh or a scoff.

"Shall I unbind you?"

Xiao/Lumine

“Skin Hunger” by Mythicamagic

T, 2635 words, hurt/comfort, romance.

insecurity, intrusive and self-deprecating thoughts, some descriptions of violence and gore, body worship, established relationship, non-sexual nudity

When immortals fall in love with each other, they have all the time in the world to explore their relationship; but first comes the insecurities. Xiaolumi oneshot.

Has fun parallels with their wings

familial Diluc & Kaeya, Adelinde, Klee, Lisa, Jean

“blinded by love” by li2

G, 6481 words, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending.

Kaeya POV, unreliable narrator, misunderstandings, temporary invisibility, familial kiss, fluff, skinship & physical touch, sharing a bed

Diluc suddenly becomes unable to see Kaeya. Thinking it’s just Diluc’s usual hatred for him, Kaeya doesn't suspect anything wrong.

Kaeya’s POV for the first half hurts so much but the second half is sweet😭

Lumine, Paimon, familial Diluc & Kaeya

“Lamp Grass Guides You Home” by StrangeDiamond

Gen, 6387 words, fluff, light angst.

souvenirs. Chapter 2 has brief mentions of pain, starvation, and violence

After scrambling to cobble together a gift before their Jade Chamber visit, Lumine gets the idea to start collecting small gifts and souvenirs, so she'll always have something to give if she needs to.

Kaeya is the first one she goes to for advice, and he has a lot of good ideas for things she can collect and make, using Mondstadt's regional specialties. He even tells her about a certain souvenir he was once gifted - a charm made of Small Lamp Grass, encased in resin, that he unfortunately lost when he moved. There's a bit more to the story, Lumine learns, when she sets out to make one for him to replace it. There's history linked to the charm Kaeya lost . . . but there are also new memories to be made going forward.

A sweet one about making and receiving gifts

Zhongli/Venti, Venti & Diluc (ft. misc adventurers)

“I need to tell him (I can’t tell him)” by asingleqingxin

T, 1949 words, angst, major character death.

Venti POV, mentions Istaroth, set during Chapter 1 Act I’s Rite of Descension, Venti doesn’t know Zhongli faked his death, misunderstanding played for drama, grief, dissociation, Venti loses grip on time period briefly

Oh, that's not good news.

He needs to tell Morax.

...he can't tell Morax.

When the rumors about the Rite of Descension hit Mondstadt.

Angst and misunderstanding from the canon event written from Venti’s POV in Mondstadt

#dusk rambles #fic recs #Genshin impact #genshin fic #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fic #venti #aether #zhongli #cyno #Diluc #Kaeya #xiao #Lumine #xiaolumi #zhongven #Chilumi #q

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adore-laur · 1 year ago

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CALIFORNIA DUSK

— birth of baby #2 in the dadrry universe 🌊

——

6:24 AM

California dawn brings serenity to the house. The sun is leisurely rising, painting the sky with wispy pink brushstrokes across an endless canvas of powder blue. Seagulls croon as they fly parallel to the hazy horizon, gracefully dipping their claws down in the water to catch their first meal of the day. Waves crash against the vacant ocean shore with persistence, as if to announce that morning has arrived once again.

Soon, golden rays will seep through the flowing curtains and cast shapes on the hardwood floors. The trees will start to sway from the coastal breeze, sending earthy scents of pine and cedar into the kitchen. Toys scattered in the living room from the night before will be left alone to wallow until their owner sleepily waddles from her bedroom with a yawn and an empty stomach.

A spoon clinks against the edge of a mug, echoing throughout the tranquil kitchen as chickadees sing their song near the window. Yet the current calmness of your surroundings doesn't quite match how you feel inside.

Being awake for the past two hours—hunched over the kitchen island and rocking side to side while breathing through painful cramping—isn't how you would've liked to commence your morning. Harry is brewing homemade coffee for himself since there's a high chance it will be a long, tiresome day ahead. He's been up with you since you started having contractions, and you tried to convince him to keep sleeping, but there was no way to persuade him since he's naturally an early bird. And you know he would never let you handle the discomfort alone.

Your daughter is still fast asleep in her room down the hall, oblivious to how soon she'll be a big sister. You're not looking to traumatize her at a young age, so Harry's mother is on her way to pick her up in case you give birth.

You've decided on a natural water birth this time. Being in the hospital for your first childbirth experience was tolerable, but the atmosphere gave you tremendous anxiety. The nurses hovering over you, the constant beeping of the machines, and the stale room all felt suffocating. You're confident you'll feel more at ease in the comfort of your own home, with only Harry and the midwife witnessing you in your most vulnerable state.

As the pain temporarily alleviates in your abdomen, you slowly straighten your posture and walk some laps around the living room. There's nothing you can do except hang tight and see if anything progresses. The contractions haven't gotten to the point of being unbearable, but they still beg the question of whether you'll be having a baby today. It's a waiting game.

Harry is surprisingly relaxed, and you suppose it's because this isn't his first rodeo. Seeing the difference in his composure compared to the first time you went into labor is humorous. He had clammy hands, was a stuttering mess, and also forgot to bring his driver's license when he drove you to the hospital.

Now, it's like he has never been more prepared for anything in his entire life. He could be hiding his nerves well, but otherwise, he's extremely put together as he whistles the "We Just Got a Letter" jingle from Blue's Clues that always gets stuck in his head because your daughter watches the show every morning. He's already dressed for the birth that might not even happen today—swim shorts for when he gets in the birthing pool with you and a faded graphic tee that looks like it has seen better days. His favorite blue baseball cap is snug on his head, covering his messy hair that curls upwards underneath. He looks casually gorgeous in the morning light.

After your tenth lap, you wander back to the kitchen and stand beside Harry as he drops two slices of bread into the toaster. He looks down at you and smiles.

"Hi," he says, leaning his hip against the counter. "Contraction over with?"

"For now," you reply dully. "I'm sure there'll be plenty more."

He jerks his chin toward the sink. "I want you to drink some water."

"I'm not thirsty."

"Please just drink one glass for me, baby," he says, opening the refrigerator and grabbing a jar of grape jam. "Let's not have a repeat of last time."

You roll your eyes and steal a cup from the drying rack. He clearly remembers when you vomited at the hospital just hours before giving birth. Yes, you were dehydrated, but that was the last thing on your mind.

As you sip cloudy tap water, you watch Harry silently spread jam onto his perfectly browned toast. He's been too quiet this morning—entirely cool, calm, and collected. You miss his delirious morning humor.

"You're scaring me."

Harry freezes with the butter knife in his grasp. "I didn't know your husband making breakfast was a fear of yours."

There it is!

"No, not that." You wipe off a glob of jam on his thumb. "You're just really relaxed right now."

Setting his toast on a plate, he turns to you with a crease between his eyebrows. "Should I be freaking out?"

"Well, I might give birth soon," you say, your heart rate increasing at the mere thought. "Doesn't that, I don't know, make you nervous?"

"Of course, I'm nervous," he replies, gently squeezing your shoulders. "I'm sure I'll be a hot mess once you're in full-on labor. I'm just enjoying the morning with you while you're still pregnant. You know... soaking it all in."

You release a shaky exhale, your mind spiraling as everything becomes more real the longer you talk about how you'll be a family of four very soon. "Okay," you whisper unconvincingly. "That makes sense."

Harry obviously doesn't buy it because he stares at you briefly before trapping your fidgeting hands with his own. "What's going on?"

"I'm freaking out," you admit weakly. Your voice wavers, and the lump in your throat is hard to swallow.

His face softens with sympathy as your eyes gloss over with tears. "Let's walk down to the shore," he suggests, kissing your forehead. "Just you and me before it gets crazy in here."

Sniffling, you ask, "What if I can't make it back to the house?"

"Then I'll carry you."

"Good luck with that," you mutter before grabbing your phone from the kitchen table. "Let's go while I have a break from contractions."

He nods, taking his plate and the baby monitor from the countertop, and then leads the way out the patio door.

During the short journey there, your heart blooms with fondness when you catch Harry smiling to himself as he walks, his tattooed arms swinging. It's too endearing not to keep as a permanent memory, so you open the camera on your phone and press record. The fresh air has rapidly lifted your mood, and you're thankful for it.

"What are you grinning about over there?"

Harry looks up and gives the camera a big, open-mouthed smile, pure excitement exuding from him. He's been waiting so patiently for another baby, and now it's slowly but surely becoming reality.

"What's got you so happy?" You laugh and stop recording.

He shrugs, still smiling contagiously. "I can't believe it's happening. It just hit me right now."

Both of you reach the sand and sit away from the lapping waves in case you have to head back to the house promptly. Harry places himself behind you, a position that's supposed to help when a contraction comes. You can hold onto his legs for leverage and support, and he can massage wherever you're hurting.

"I can't believe it either," you reply with a pensive shake of your head.

"Talk to me. How are you feeling?" Harry asks, taking a crunchy bite of toast. "Emotionally, I mean."

Talk to me. It's a three-word sentence he's been saying to you for years. He always wants to know how you're feeling whenever you bottle up your thoughts—anger, sorrow, or happiness. It has never changed, and it never fails to help immensely.

"I'm not as nervous as last time," you answer, closing your eyes when he starts playing with your hair. "I feel more prepared since I know what to expect, but it's terrifying that I'm doing it naturally this time."

He hums in acknowledgment. "That's completely valid. No one expects you to be one hundred percent confident when pushing a baby out, no matter how many times you've done it before. Just know that I'm eternally grateful that you've grown two beautiful babies for us. You're a superstar."

"Thanks. I just feel like—" You gasp suddenly, your hand quickly shooting to your side as another contraction hits.

"Okay," Harry says soothingly, grabbing your hand so you can squeeze his own. He quickly unlocks his phone to set a timer. "It's okay. Breathe with me."

You inhale and exhale through the internal pain, the tight cramping making you lean back against his chest. "Harry, it hurts," you cry as your other hand grips his knee. "Ow, ow, ow."

"I've got you. Just breathe through it." He lifts the hem of your oversized shirt and spreads his hand on your stomach. It's stretched beyond belief and has dropped significantly throughout the past week. "Focus on my breathing, all right? And relax your shoulders. They're too tense."

You breathe with him as he massages your lower back. Your face is getting hot and your throat is dry, but the only thing you can fully pinpoint is the penetrating pain.

"Tell me something. Please distract me."

Harry kisses your temple. "You look really pretty."

"Shut up," you mumble with a laugh that quickly turns into a groan of discomfort.

"I'm serious. I love how you look in the morning when the sun hits your face, like right now. It makes you glow even more than usual. And the way it brightens your eyes reminds me so much of our daughter." He turns your face so you're looking at him. "I see you in her all the time."

You smile weakly and rest your head on the dip between his neck and shoulder. "Yeah, but she has your bunny teeth."

His deep, comforting laugh vibrates against your back. "Mm, you'd be the one to notice that."

You just tiredly nod as the contraction subsides. You make a good guess that you're not close to labor yet because of how far apart and mild they've been so far. The midwife is only five minutes away, so there's no dire need for her to come and check on you.

"I think that one's done." You carefully sit up and release his hand. "How long was it?"

Harry checks his phone. "Forty-seven seconds."

"Short," you think aloud. "They've been irregular, so I think they might be Braxton Hicks."

He dramatically falls back onto the sand and spreads his arms out. "Does that mean no baby today?"

You snort and cuddle up next to him. "Soon. You have to be patient."

He's silent for a minute before asking, "Isn't sex supposed to induce labor?"

You scoff and swat at his chest. "I swear you asked me that last time."

"Oh, I definitely did. You rejected me and then literally didn't go into labor until a week later, remember? You should've listened to me."

"I don't think it would be enjoyable for either of us if we tried. I couldn't even walk down here without feeling like passing out."

Harry draws patterns on your belly with his finger, causing a response of fluttery kicks from the baby. "I know, I'm only joking. We don't have to be anywhere or do anything right now. Let's stay out here for a little bit, yeah?"

"Sounds like a plan," you mumble into his shoulder. The world around you drowns out like the shells under the waves as you focus on his heartbeat. The rhythmic thumping of your favorite part of him lulls you to sleep, his hand gently stroking your hair as time passes with each movement of the sun.

Your nerves wash away with each ocean tide, and you know everything will be all right.

——

7:03 PM

The tub is ready.

You are not.

A shirtless Harry is already sitting in the circular birthing pool, looking like he's ready to deliver the baby himself. You've changed into your swimsuit and are now vaguely listening to what the midwife is telling you as you lean against the wall and suffer through another contraction—a particularly strong one that indicates you're going to start pushing soon.

Your water has already broken, and you're not quite sure why you're waiting until the very last second to get into the tub, but nothing in your mind is making sense due to the overwhelming pain. The bedroom is too small, the lights are too bright, the way Harry's dotingly looking at you is too much, and your body feels too weak even though it's about to perform the most vigorous exercise imaginable.

"We need you in the tub so I can check your dilation," says the midwife, snapping you out of your overthinking spiral.

"I-I can't," you reply helplessly. "I don't think I can do this. I don't want to do this."

You regret not just sucking it up and going to the hospital so they can inject you with an epidural.

"I am going to do everything I can to give you a safe and smooth delivery process," she assures you. "Your husband is waiting for you. He's going to be your support system the entire time, okay? Do you trust him to do that?"

You frantically nod your head—you've never trusted anyone more. "The water will help with the pain," she adds with a kind smile. "It will relax your muscles and make you feel very nice. Can you get in the tub for me? Harry will help you."

You look at him, seeing his slightly shaky hands beckon you closer. You swallow and take a deep breath before slowly approaching him. Equipment scatters the floor and the bed beside you—clean blankets, a tarp for the mess, towels, medical supplies, and a cup of ice.

Harry carefully helps you into the birthing tub, positioning you so your back is against his bare chest. Once you're situated in the lukewarm water, you focus on his heartbeat pounding double-time.

"I can't do this," you repeat as you slide your swimsuit bottoms off.

"Yes, you can," Harry says, kneading your shoulders. "It'll be so worth it. We'll have a baby boy or girl to hold tonight."

"I'm scared. What if something goes wrong? What if I can't handle the pain? What if I—"

"Hey," he scolds softly. "Please don't think like that. Remember last time? What did I tell you to do to distract yourself?"

"Count your tattoos."

"That's right. I've gotten quite a few more since then, so get to counting. Distract your mind from the pain. I'm not going anywhere."

You begin counting, starting with your name tattooed on his right thigh. You then grab his left arm and count all the small ones near his hand. The chrysanthemum on the inside of his wrist represents your daughter's birth flower, along with her date of birth written in cursive underneath. There's also the outline of a wave representing his home with you in California, where you built your life together. They all mean something near and dear to his heart.

The midwife brings you out of your trance when she leans over the pool and checks your dilation as Harry places comforting kisses on the back of your head. "You're about eight centimeters," she tells you after a few seconds of uncomfortable inspection.

"I feel like I need to push," you say timidly. "I feel the baby really low."

"We need to wait until you're ten centimeters," she replies. "If you can just hold out a little longer, it'll be much easier to push, okay?"

You nod and let out a long groan when the contraction moves from your lower back to your pelvis.

"Do you want your ice?" Harry asks.

"Yes, please."

He reaches behind him and grabs the cup filled with chipped ice. You begin chewing on a piece to cool your body temperature and force your brain to focus on something else.

Several minutes pass, with Harry whispering loving encouragements as the midwife talks you through what's about to happen. She allows you to exert tiny pushes while applying pressure to your abdomen. Everything goes in one ear and out the other, but you know the moment is almost here. There's no stopping now.

"Do you still feel like you need to push, honey?" the midwife asks, checking your dilation again.

"Yeah. Am I ten centimeters yet?"

"Just about. I'm going to have you push now."

You turn your head and stare at Harry with wide eyes. He messily captures your lips with his, then moves them near your ear. "I'm right behind you. Whatever you need, just let me know. If you need me to get out or scream at me—anything at all."

You look forward when the midwife parts your legs and encourages you to push using all of your strength.

The first push is the most agonizing. Your head throws itself back on Harry's shoulder as you grit your teeth and contract what feels like every muscle in your body. The midwife counts to ten, the seconds dragging on like minutes. Your face is scrunched up tight, and your legs are tense in the water. Harry softly counts in your ear, taking your left hand in his.

Breathe out for three.

The second push feels like you're on fire, but not in a good way. The aching, cramping, and stinging pain shooting all over your body is borderline unbearable. It's felt externally, internally, and everywhere in between. You let a cry escape your mouth as the pain strikes your lower abdomen in full force. Harry kisses your ring finger and sets your hand on his heart.

Breathe out for three.

The third push gets you the farthest. Your ringing ears distantly hear something along the lines of I can see the head, and you feel a sharp breath from Harry hitting your neck and a kiss behind your ear. When the midwife gets to number two, she pulls the head out. The burning sensation remains, but the most challenging part is out of the way.

Breathe out for three.

The final push is when you give every ounce of energy you have left, squeezing both of Harry's hands so tightly that you're afraid you might break his bones. You're told to give your strongest and longest push, making your entire body rigid as you stop your breathing to make this the last one. Harry chants motivational words from behind you: They're almost here; you're doing so good; I love you.

Then, all at once, there's release.

Relief.

Remission.

You quickly pull your baby up from under the water and cradle them against your heaving chest. You're shivering from the adrenaline, and your body feels bizarrely empty.

"It's a girl!" announces the midwife as she wipes and rubs her down with a towel.

The tears immediately fall. You hear Harry let out a quiet sob as he buries his face in your neck with trembling lips. With his forehead pressed to your skin, he sniffles while the sound of your baby girl's cries fills the room.

"Would Dad like to cut the cord?"

Harry nods and palms his tear-filled eyes. She passes tiny surgical scissors over to him and stretches the umbilical cord, showing him where to snip. He carefully moves out from behind you and releases an emotional breath as he opens the scissors, but he drops them in the tub because of his shaky hands.

"Sorry," he says with a choked laugh. He picks them up and tries again, successfully cutting the cord. The midwife cheers and begins setting things up for the after-birth process.

You cradle the back of your baby's head and cry with unspeakable happiness. "Hold her," you tell Harry now that she's detached.

He reaches his hands out, and you carefully pass her squirming body over to him. He seems almost lost in a trance for a second, but when her cries die down instantly once her skin meets his, he looks at you with the most breathtaking smile.

She clings to him like a lifeline, her cheek squished against his chest and her tiny hands spread on his collarbones. "Look," he whispers to you with watery eyes. "Look at her."

"I know. She loves you already."

His gaze is now focused on you, with an expression conveying so many emotions. You think he's never looked more beautiful.

"Thank you," he says.

Those two simple words are spoken with a heavy amount of sincerity. You know what they mean: Thank you for letting me be a father. Thank you for pushing through all the mental and physical changes again. Thank you for her.

You smile and blink back more tears. "All in a day's work."

Harry shakes his head as his eyes dance over your face. "You're the strongest person I know. I've never seen anything more incredible than what you just did."

"Thank you for helping me through it."

"I always will," he says while stroking your baby girl's back with his large hand. It almost engulfs her entire body.

"Are you insinuating we're going to have more babies?"

"You know I'd have a million with you. You're fuckin' perfect."

You slap his arm lazily. "Don't swear."

He leans in until his forehead touches yours. "Give me a kiss."

"Your lips are dry."

He licks his lips, and you meet his mouth. He hums and grins into the kiss, pulling away from you with a glint in his eyes. "I love you so much," he murmurs before glancing at his daughter. "Both of you. My heart beats for my girls."

"I love you."

A tiny hand suddenly hits Harry's mouth. He sputters a laugh and grabs it, kissing it repeatedly until she lets out a gurgle. He laughs in disbelief and hikes her up to smell her head, the baby scent being one of his favorite parts about having a newborn.

"Already a daddy's girl," you slur tiredly, exhaustion finally catching up to you.

He puckers endless kisses onto her head. "Think I'll keep you forever, angel," he tells her. "Is that okay? Hmm? Gonna be my snuggle bug when I need it the most?"

Her eyes remain closed, and her lips smack as she lets out a silent cry. You look at Harry, and you find him absolutely mesmerized by her. Every small movement she makes, every change in facial expression, every noise that comes from her—he's watching it all with proud eyes and a permanent smile.

No other man would you want as your husband. No other man would you want to be the father of your babies.

——

8:40 PM

It's been a little over an hour since you gave birth, and since then, you've been moved to the bed after being cleaned up. You've just finished breastfeeding and now lie with her in your arms as you try to fall asleep next to Harry. He's still making calls to his loved ones to tell them the news, and each time he does, he gets emotional all over again when the person on the other line gasps or screams with joy.

He's wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, and part of his hair is held back with one of your daughter's pink butterfly clips. You're both running on empty but have never been more blissfully content as she sleeps, her body wrapped in a white swaddle and a baby beanie snug on her head.

The windows are open, letting the ocean breeze waft in and cool your body's dull ache. The midwife had been kind enough to bring you snacks, leaving ice water, a plate of crackers, and a bowl of strawberry yogurt for you on the nightstand. There was an instance when Harry asked for a spoonful of your yogurt, and when you fed it to him, some dropped onto your baby's cheek. You both broke into silent laughter until she got fussy from your movements. Or maybe it was from the cold dollop of yogurt on her sensitive skin. Either way, it was entertaining.

Now, you drift off beside him and feel the soft breaths of your baby girl on your breast as the linen curtains blow in time with the swelling waves meeting the shore.

"Are you awake?" Harry asks quietly after he ends another call.

"Barely," you whisper into his sleeve. It smells like heaven.

He kisses your temple and inhales deeply. "I just got off the phone with my boss. He says congratulations and to name her after him."

You release a laugh laced with drowsiness. "I don't think she'd appreciate being named after an ornery old man."

"True. That was the last call I needed to make, by the way." He scoots down the bed and gently nuzzles his head into your side. "Get some rest. I'll be quiet now."

"I don't want to miss anything," you say, even though your eyes have been involuntarily closing for the past ten minutes.

He lightly scratches up and down your arm. "She's sleeping, my love."

"I know, but what if she does something cute?"

"Then I'll wake you up."

"Promise?" Your eyes droop once again with overpowering fatigue.

"I promise." He seals it with a tender kiss on your shoulder. "You need—"

A knock on the bedroom door interrupts him and makes your head turn toward the sound. The knob jiggles for a few seconds before the door slowly opens with a creak to reveal your daughter standing there. She's holding her favorite blanket, her thumb tucked in her mouth. You assume Harry's mother must have just arrived and is letting her have some alone time with the both of you.

"Hi, lovebug," Harry says softly. "Come here. We've got a surprise for you."

She cautiously shuffles over to the edge of the bed and inspects the sleeping bundle in your arms. "Did you have fun with Grandma today?" you ask her.

She nods distractedly, her eyes still glued to the baby. Harry smiles and picks her up, setting her on his lap. "That's your baby sister," he explains. "You're officially a big sister now."

She looks at him. "Where?"

He lets out a breathy chuckle and shifts her closer to the baby. "Right here, sweetheart. She's sleeping, so you have to be quiet."

"Oh," she whispers. You and Harry exchange smiles.

"Isn't she pretty?" you ask.

"Yeah." Her voice is still a whisper as she pokes the baby's fists. "So little."

"She is," Harry says with a sniffle. "You were once that little. You have no idea how perfectly you fit in my arms."

You kiss her cherubic cheek. "Do you want to hold her?"

She glances at Harry as if to ask for permission, and he nods his head in encouragement. He positions her between the two of you, and then you maneuver the baby into her arms while ensuring the head is supported.

The sight is something out of a dream. How attentive she is to her new baby sister, admiring her like a delicate flower, examining her closely like a beautiful specimen, gently touching her nose and puckered lips. She keeps looking at you and Harry when the baby wiggles or makes a noise, a look of pure innocence and curiosity that brings more heartfelt tears to your eyes.

You eventually peel your gaze away from her and find Harry staring at you. A tear falls from his bottom eyelashes, his nostrils flaring from residual emotions hitting him. Reaching over, you thumb away the teardrop and focus on the bay window. The sun has dived below the darkening horizon, allowing stars to faintly dot the sky. Cicadas buzz in nearby bushes, and the night tides of the ocean collide with the sand that will soon be illuminated by the moon.

It's quiet in the bedroom, with nothing but the sound of soft breathing and the occasional coo from the baby. Your family of three is now four, and you've never felt more full of love. The world around you is serene, just like it was during the sunrise before she came into the world.

California dusk has brought you an angel.

——

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #dad!harry #dadrry #dilfrry #harry styles #adore-laur #california dusk

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occasionallyprosie · 3 months ago

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A Thousand Ways

Chapter 16: "Hyrule's Bright Castle"

Twilight gets to 'introduce' Wild and Legend to Dusk (not knowing Legend has already met her), and Wild gets to be the annoying big brother he's forgotten he is.

First | <<Previous | Next>>

Read On AO3

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They entered the castle the next morning and Twilight all but dragged both Legend and Wild—who had whispered to Legend during their walk to their demise, that he was definitely stuck with them now—up toward Dusk who was smiling indulgently at them.

“Welcome back, Hero of Light,” she said, her voice perfectly blank and polite. “Who do you bring with you?”

“Heroes, yer majesty,” he said, grinning like an idiot. “Heroes from the future and the past. They know their titles better than I do.”

Legend raised an eyebrow at Wild, knowing the others would wait for them two to introduce themselves as Twilight clearly wanted to introduce them to Dusk.

Wild gave him a slight unsure look and Legend took that step forward.

He dropped into a bow. “I'm known as the Hero of Legend, your highness. My companions address me as Veteran or Scholar for simplicity's sake.”

Wild mimicked him with the bow, though he didn't curtesy—he didn't wear a dress—and just bent at the waist.

“Hero of the Wilds, also called Champion.” He was very brief with his words and Legend silently hummed his approval. It really showed his knight background, the briefness at least, but so did the way his heels touched and how straight he stood when he rose back up.

Like that, the others stepped up and followed their example. Warriors claiming the title of Hero of the War Between Eras, Time claiming the title of Hero of Time, Wind claiming the title of Hero of Winds, Sky calling himself the Chosen Hero of the Goddess, Four claiming the Hero of the Minish, and Hyrule calling himself the Hero of Hyrule, each gave their usual nicknames as well.

“Welcome to Hyrule Castle,” Dusk said coolly. “I do hope you will enjoy your stay,” she gestured for a servant, “Evelyn here will take you wherever you need—rest, training, enlightenment, or food—but I must steal away my hero, though I suppose more can accompany if he wishes to bring them.”

Twilight nodded. He looked back at Warriors who gave his own nod.

“Vet, Cub, c’mon,” he said quietly and Legend shot Hyrule a pleading look.

Hyrule just snorted and waved condescendingly as Wild rolled his eyes, grabbed Legend’s wrist, and tugged him along as the group split apart.

They got a distance from the throne room before Twilight stopped them.

He pointed a threatening finger at them both. “Neither of you say a word about this,” he warned lowly. Legend raised a challenging eyebrow while Wild just hummed. He eyed them before huffing and then pulling Dusk into a kiss.

Legend’s eyes widened and he felt his face heat up, he jerked his eyes away from the scene as the kiss became a little searing. Wild made a strangled noise a beat late to be reacting to the kiss and Legend got a hand slapped over his eyes.

“There are kids!” Wild screeched.

“He ain't that much of a kid.”

“Kid 'nough he turned red at your little display,” Wild said.

“Shut up.” Legend shoved him and he stumbled into the wall.

“Hey! I am protecting your innocence!” Wild protested, immediately throwing his arms around Legend’s shoulders. “He's just a baby, Rancher. Look at this face,” Legend glared daggers at the champion, “is this the face of someone who’s seen a couple kiss before?”

Dusk laughed lightly, a hand blocking her mouth, meanwhile Twilight snorted.

“That's the face of someone’s who’s about t’ murder you, Cub.”

Legend bit at Wild’s hand in front of his face and Wild pouted but retracted.

“You’re lucky Rulie likes you,” he warned.

“Eternally,” Wild agreed cheerily.

“He's a very energetic boy,” Dusk said amusedly. “Certainly yours, Link.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Twilight asked, feigning offense as they continued down the hall. “An’ there's two o’ them.”

“Oh I know,” Dusk held an arm out and Legend easily ducked under it to let her place it over his shoulders, “but this one is mine.”

“You know, you do have a face only a mother could love,” Wild teased, taking up a mirrored position as Legend at Twilight’s side.

“Cub…” Twilight sighed.

“Yeah, your mother loved it plenty last night,” Legend retorted.

“Kit!”

“Yes?”

“You—I know my mother didn’t raise you to talk like that.”

Legend grinned. “Nah, but your dad did.”

Wild howled with laughter while Twilight looked like he was questioning every decision he'd made up until now.

Good. Legend smirked, high-fiving Wild. It was his--theirs, he supposed, shame Wind wasn't here--responsibility to annoy Twilight.

Dusk turned out to be taking them to introduce Wild to Little Link and Zellie. They ended up spending only about an hour with the kids. After that, they headed back to the others, two children in tow.

Legend was letting Wild think he didn't even know how to do basic cooking—as if he hasn't lived alone for years, been on the road just as long, and has had a grandmother who had wanted to teach him all her family recipes—and questioning him on the simplest of things to see how long it took him to lose it. Zellie and Link were watching and giggling.

“Do you intend to tell them all?” Dusk asked, Legend barely heard her.

“Well…” Twilight trailed off, he glanced over at Legend, who had started watching them. He tilted his head curiously.

Wild was rambling on about how to dice something.

“They know about him,” he said. “And us, and… And I think I would like to stop hiding, after this quest is over.”

Dusk stared at him. “Truly?”

Legend looked back at Wild, who had fallen quiet too, and even the kids—Zellie was perched on Wild’s shoulders and Link had been holding Dusk’s skirt—were watching.

Twilight nodded. “I… realized it ain't worth being away fr’m you an’ missin’ out on anything.”

“Yes!” Zellie cheered and Wild wobbled to correct her balance. “I told you, Momma! I saw him claim us!”

Legend shared a look with Wild. Wild shrugged best he could with the princess on his shoulders.

“I know, dear,” Dusk assured, giving Twilight a soft look. “I know.”

Legend hummed and pointedly looked away, giving Wild a wide-eyed look.

Wild snorted. “Hey lovebirds, can we hurry up and find the others?”

“Maybe I should leave you to get lost in here,” Twilight retorted, shooting Wild a glare and Legend decided that he made a good decision looking away.

“Okay, come on kiddos,” Wild said, grinning up at Zellie who giggled and speeding up to walk down the hall.

He didn't care if that was him agreeing to be a child, he was very quickly following after Wild, he looked back at the kid that seemed hesitant to let go of Dusk.

“Want to come with us, Link?” He asked.

Link looked up at Dusk, who smiled at him and ushered him forward.

Link latched onto Legend’s side in moments and they were following Wild away from Dusk and Twilight.

Did Legend think maybe one of the ones who knew the castle should've been leading? Yes. Did he want to see where Wild got them? Also yes, absolutely.

Wild did indeed get them extremely lost to the point that a guard had stopped them and informed Legend that the Queen was looking for them and becoming worried.

“Thank you,” Legend said, pretending his hands didn't start shaking the moment the guard had intercepted their path.

“What do you think, kids?” Wild asked. “Shall we find your parents or keep following the minish?”

“I wanna follow the mouse people,” Link said quietly.

Legend smiled. “The minish it is. Your dad will find us eventually. Worse comes to worse, you stay close to us, okay?”

Link nodded.

Zellie grinned. “To adventure!”

Wild, very much happy with his role as Zellie’s ride, broke into a run. “Keep up, Vet!”

Legend looked at Link, who was latched to his leg. “Shall we beat them?”

A familiar flare of determination shone in equally familiar eyes, and Link raised his hands. Legend scooped the kid up while kicking his Pegasus boots into action. Wild called him a cheater and gave chase, but the loud laughter of two giggling children won out at any desire to play fair. After all, it wasn't a race.

They ended up at the top of the castle, a place Legend usually associated with Ganon, but the kids called their hideout.

Wild whipped out blankets and dishes of gourmet food that Legend knew for a fact he kept for special occasions. They sat a fair distance from the edge, Wild telling exuberant stories with broad, dramatic gestures and voices, while Zellie and Link listened raptly while giving their own guesses for what happened. Legend nursed his drink. It was some honeyed tea, he wished it was cider, but beggars couldn't be choosers and the hot drink was wonderful. He listened to the stories just as attentively as the kids, only quieter. He leaned his head against the nearby pillar, Wild’s calming tea doing its job.

“Then—”

The door to the stairwell all but slammed open. Legend was up, fire lacing around his right hand and his sword in his other hand, Wild crouched and bow drawn back with three arrows.

Hyrule froze in the doorway, blinking and staring at them.

“You’re in so much trouble,” he said bluntly. “They're looking everywhere for you!”

“Sailor hasn't pinged my slate,” Wild countered, lowering his bow.

Legend sighed and sheathed his sword. “Zellie, Link, this is Rulie. He's our friend.”

Link stayed hidden behind Legend while Zellie poked her head out, stared at Hyrule. Then she nodded.

“We like him!” She declared.

“Want to join us?” Legend offered, sitting back down.

“Did you not hear me?” Hyrule demanded, frowning. “We thought you guys got kidnapped or something.”

“Please,” Wild scoffed. “I protected my princess for years; I can handle protecting the Rancher’s kids for an afternoon.”

Legend glared daggers at Wild and reached over to hit him. Wild just grinned at him.

Hyrule sighed. “No. Either you’re coming downstairs with me or I'm bringing them here.”

“Okay,” Wild said, putting an arm out to stop both Legend and Zellie from getting up. “We’ll hang out here.”

“Champion—”

“Trust me,” Wild insisted. Legend rolled his eyes.

Hyrule groaned heavily. “Fine. I’m telling them where you are.”

“Okay!”

Hyrule left and Wild looked back at them. Legend raised an eyebrow. Hyrule usually would join them, but for Hyrule to be choosing, well, responsibility over a bit of fun? Abnormal and Legend would usually give in.

“So,” Wild began, “who wants honeyed apples?”

“Me!” Link crawled over the blanket to snag some from Wild, Zellie eagerly took her portion and Wild even handed some to Legend.

Next>>>

#linkeduniverse #lu legend #lu wild #lu twilight #lu dusk #a thousand ways au #prosie writes #fluff #linked universe #linked universe fanfic

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babiestbubbles · 11 months ago

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Huskerdust Drabble

AU where they start dating after ep 4!!

Angel is terrified of ruining his first good relationship so he tries SO hard to be easy to love Meanwhile husk absolutely adores him, flaws and all, and just wants to understand his partner better and be there for him So he constantly tries to get Angel to talk After a couple drinks, or during late nights, or after nightmares. He's always there, he's always listening, and he always wants to help. But he never gets very far, because Angel is just so terrified of being too broken for him And so one night, Husk is walking to their shared room to turn in for the night. He hasn't spoken to Angel all night, Angel came home from work and walked straight past the bar and to their room without a word. And so Husk is like, trudging back to their room all sad mopey wet cat-like. (Yk, his natural state.) And he hears Angel crying and, rushes inside and is like, "Are you okay, what's going on?"

And Angel's like "Husk! Oh shit. No, I'm fine. It's fine" and he's wiping away tears and like, sniffling, insisting he's fine. And Husk is like, "But you don't have to be. I'm here for you. I WANT to be here for you. I want to help. Talk to me. Tell me what's going on?"

And Angel's like, "You've got enough on your plate already. I don't want you to have to take care of me on top of that. Worry about yourself first. Really, I'm okay. Everything's fine, just a hard day at work"

And Husk goes "This IS me worrying about myself. i don't have anything else in my life nearly as important to me as you. I hate seeing you like this, so upset. It upsets me too…" and he's like, reaching out his hand as he's talking going to hold Angel

But when Angel hears him say that, he pulls back and interrupts and goes "WHAT? NO! Please, it's fine. I'M fine. Don't be upset. There's nothing to worry about. Everything's fine…" And Husk just loses it and goes, "I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE! I may have a hell of a lot of patience, but even I have my limits. I'm trying to HELP Angel. I CARE ABOUT YOU. And all you ever seem to do is push me away…" And Angel interrupts and is like, "I just- Don't wanna be too much for ya. I've never done this before. i've never had this before. I don’t know what to do with it? I don't wanna be too hard to love- " And Husk is absolutely infuriated by the idea that Angel can't see that he could Never be too much. That Husk would destroy himself entirely for Angel. He loses himself in his anger. "You can't keep pushing people away, they're only willing to push back so many times. I can take the nightmares. I can take the crying. I can take the lashing out and the flashbacks and Fuck I can understand the addiction. What I can't take is you lying. Hiding it. Acting like you're fine all the time. And pushing away the only person in this goddamned hotel who cares about you." There's a beat of silence, filled only with Angel's sniffling, and ended by a heavy sigh from Husk. "You know what Angel? Maybe you were right. Maybe you are too hard to love." And he turns around. And leaves.

#hazbin hotel #fanfic #fanfiction #hazbin hotel angst #angst #huskerdust #husker hazbin hotel #angeldust hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fandom #husker x angel dust #huskerdust angst #angel dusk #angelhusk

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fraugwinska · 11 months ago

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Here's one of my favorite snippets from the latest Chapter of my Fanfic 'Method to Madness':

“Watch it, or I'll make spaghetti for dinner and break them in half before cooking them.”

Angel gasped, hands clutching his chest. “'Ya. Wouldn't. Dare.”

“And I'll cook them in unsalted water.”, you said with an evil glare.

“MONSTER!”, he shouted dramatically and you cockily swished your tail at him.

I love them so much together =D

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x reader #ao3 fanfic #method to madness #angel dust #Angel dusk is a proud italian #breaking spaghetti is a crime

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chairofchaos · 7 months ago

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51 pls bestieee - maybe a neschei 👀👀 or azris

(hehhehehe)

This does contain prompt 1, but prompt 51 had too much potential with Azris for me to let it go. Since you have given me such latitude in what I write for you, I offer you a work with two of my favorite pieces of music. This is what I listened to (and imagined them dancing to!) while I wrote this drabble. Also, it is slightly over 1000 words but I'm still counting it as a drabble. Enjoy!

xxx

Still, They Dance | Azris Drabble

The music of the chamber orchestra drifted out to meet them on the front steps of the event hall. The last of the guests had trickled out the door, but Eris Vanserra still wanted one thing out of his mating ceremony.

“May I have this dance?” he turned to offer a hand to the male standing at his side. Azriel turned, lowering his hand raised in parting to their guests, and smiled.

“You’ve had many,” Azriel grinned, placing his hand in Eris’. “And I would never deny you another.”

Eris turned, guiding Azriel back inside. “I lied when I told you I hired them for four hours. They’re here until midnight, or until we get tired.”

Azriel’s shadows swirled about their hands, but their master said nothing, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

“Did you enjoy it all?” Eris broke the silence as they approached the ballroom’s doorway.

“Yes,” Azriel nodded. “More than I even thought I would. Did you?”

Eris grinned as they stepped into the candlelit hall. “More than I can express.”

As they returned, the harpist’s opening arpeggio led the instrumentalists in a beautiful, arching piece of music. Eris placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulder and smiled. Azriel leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Eris’ temple as the music grew and breathed about them. “Ready?” he whispered. One of his hands settled at Eris’ waist, the other lifting Eris’ free hand into position.

Eris smiled, though Azriel couldn’t see him. “Always.”

They began to dance, Azriel leading them through the steps of the dance they had first danced publicly the previous spring at Nyx’s fifth birthday party. The music was over far too soon, but when the couple continued the steps, the conductor queued the musicians to begin the piece again.

Three, then four times, they danced around the room, losing themselves in the music and the harmony of each other, a quiet camaraderie that had built between them in secret over the last seven decades.

No words were said. None were needed. This, the arching give and take of the violin and the harp, the longing of their music come to fruition at last, said all they needed to say.

Once the piece had been played until each time had bled together into an extensive, living thing, they stilled in the center of the room. The music’s final cadence faded, and the musicians hesitated a moment before continuing with a new piece.

Azriel’s hand at Eris’ hip had slowly moved to his lower back, pressing them closer and closer as they danced. Now, they stood, facing each other with chests brushing as they simply breathed in, and out, and in once more.

Eris broke their stillness, moving to pull his hand from Azriel’s, but Azriel gripped his hand tight with a broad smile. “One more.”

Eris nodded, cheeks flushing a deeper pink. “One more.”

Azriel pulled him closer, resting his cheek against Eris’ before beginning to lead him in a slow dance, hardly moving at all beyond the gentle swaying of their bodies.

Eris willed the flames of the candles to dim slightly, casting the room in a fainter glow. His thoughts wandered. He and Azriel were mated, pure and simple. The bond was accepted. They would never be separate again. And Eris was filled with an immense gratitude with the male who recognized that Eris would dance until the end of time, if he could.

The dates of their courtship had been varied, but steadily, one thing had become a tradition. On Saturday nights, Azriel would take Eris dancing. It didn’t matter where, or what kind, but Azriel would dance with Eris in taverns, dance halls, alleys outside restaurants they ate at where a quartet played, even rooftops, when they had been courting in secret. They danced.

After their first night spent together, instead of going to sleep, Azriel had all but insisted that they dance ‘just one dance’, and so they had, one, then another, and another, dancing in embers of firelight kept alive only through Eris’ will until dawn broke.

“I love you,” Eris whispered. He felt Azriel’s smile against his cheek before he heard the answering “I love you.”

He pulled back, just enough to see Azriel’s half hooded gaze fixed on him, before drawing Azriel in for a kiss. Azriel held him, swaying all the while. Shadows drifted lazily about their shoulders, a physical manifestation of the bond which tied them together.

“To the rest of our lives,” Azriel whispered.

“Forever,” Eris answered. Azriel’s smile grew wider, and he reached up to his neck to grab Eris’ left hand. He pulled it to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to Eris’ wrist, then a longer one to his palm. All the while, he held Eris’ eye contact. Eris could feel the flush growing on his cheeks, the temperature between and around them slowly starting to warm as his blood stirred.

It had been a long day, and it would be a long night. Azriel pressed a kiss to Eris’ mating ring before pressing one last long kiss to his palm and stepped back, tilting his head. ‘Time to Go?’ his gaze asked.

Eris nodded. “Thank you.”

Azriel smiled. “You never need to thank me for loving you.”

Eris smiled in return. Azriel swept Eris into his arms, wrapping them in his wings and kissing him. Eris leaned into his muscular mate, hands fisting in his tunic. Azriel cradled his face in his hands, tilting his head to deepen their kiss before they broke apart, panting.

“I love you,” Eris said.

“I love you, too,” Azriel grinned, kissing him again. Then he began to slowly walk them towards the door, pressing kisses all over his mate’s face as he did so.

“Thank you!” Eris called in the direction of the musicians. They said nothing, but Eris could hear them begin to talk quietly among themselves. It sounded as though they were amused.

“Let them talk,” Azriel murmured. “Let’s go.”

Eris laughed. “Alright, alright. Come on, you big Illyrian baby. Let’s go to bed.”

Azriel pulled back, his darkened eyes filled with affection. “To bed.”

It was not an end, but a beginning. The ceremony had been the end of a movement in an orchestration that would last centuries, through the phrases and phases of life. And all the while, come high or low, they would dance.

xxx Taglist: @ninthcircleofprythian @c-starstuff-man0 @dusk-muse @lilah-asteria

#scheduled so that dusk freaks out when she gets the notification #love you xx #i'm going to start forgetting Azris isn't canon pretty soon #fictionalchaos #azris #azris drabble #azris supremacy #eris vanserra #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x eris #azris fanfiction #acotar fanfic

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starsabovee · 1 month ago

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WAVES THIS AROUND

LOOK WHATS OUT!!

@moons-among-distant-stars Figured I should tag you for this!! :DD

The prequel to Oh Traveler Come is out!! Expect canon typical violence, Siffrin-Thoughts, etc, and Oh Traveler Come typical stuff!! Reading Oh Traveler Come isn’t necessary for this to make sense (for the most part) but do know that this is a prequel.

FULL GAME IN STARS AND TIME SPOILERS. EVERY EVENT YOU CAN THINK OF IN THIS GAME, THERE LIKELY WILL BE SPOILERS FOR.

SUMMARY:

A few years ago, when you were 10 years old, you stopped being able to see Vaugarde from your home’s shore. A couple years later, you got curious as to why, and, uh, well… It goes as follows: … 16 years old. Stranded, alone on a beach, no memory, the only links to your long forgotten home being your useless wings, your darkless hair, the long, fluffy tail you sport, and the dagger in its sheath, the clothes on your back also being the only things to your name. What… is your name?

#oh traveler come #oh traveler come: dusk til dawn #in stars and time #in stars and time au #ao3 #ao3 writer #isat #ao3 fic #writers on tumblr #ao3 link #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #archive of our own #fanfic writing #fanfic

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teuzmoonlit · 8 months ago

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ドラゴンガールコレクション 🐉❤️

Nian • Ling • Dusk ❤️

° アークナイツ | Arknights

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katyakurae · 6 months ago

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What do you mean the drinks at Hazbin Tavern are not free?! A DnD AU

Random headcanons under the cut ;) *wink*

Race: Tiefling

Class: Rogue. Probably with a level or two in Bard too.

Alignement: Chaotic Neutral.

Goal: Run away from Valentino and have a peaceful life at the Hazbin Tavern.

An adventurer from the surface, Angel Dust was hired by Valentino, a noble from The Upper City on Baldur's Gate. He first thought his job was going to be something like entertainment or protection, but it turned out way more darker.

The scars on his horns and tail are, of course, from Valentino's bad moods.

Spent a few years as Valentino's personal toy until he could run away. That made him one of the top searched "criminals" of Baldur's Gate.

He doesn't really like to fight. Is more prone to robbery. But never says no to a good old backstabbing.

His best atribute is slight of hand.

Running away from the Flaming Fist and Valentino's personal guard, Angel Dust ended falling into the Underdark. Charlie found him and offered him shelter and a warm drink at the Hazbin Tavern. By that time, there were just her and Vaggie.

Soon after, Alastor, Niffty and Husk find their way to the tavern. Husk and Angel bond by their time together at the Tavern's bar.

They also have some common "acquitances" in the surface.

They gossip all the time. Specially about what the Hell Alastor and Lucifer have going on.

First and only client (by now) of the Hazbin Tavern, his idea was to steal from them and leave, but has grown fond of all of them and is part of the family now.

Previous character: Husk

Next character: Niffty

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loosesodamarble · 4 months ago

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The Beginning of an Enchanting Evening

My introductory post to @/lyranova's Halloween Ball event at @blackclover-emc!

My post/ocs are open for interaction!

..........

“Are you sure you all will be fine at home?”

Josele stood at the threshold of House Faust’s front entrance. She wore a floor-length ball gown with a cobalt blue bodice and a skirt that started the same hue and faded to a baby blue. A large bow at the waist and fabric flowers decorated the gown, and glitter made Josele shine like a star.

Despite being ready to attend that evening’s event, Josele hesitated to leave her home and her children who wouldn’t be in attendance.

Standing in the doorframe was Josele’s eldest daughter, Sterling. The redhead giggled and held her mother’s shoulders.

“Don’t worry about us, Mother,” Sterling answered. “Us kids drew lots so it’s not like we can be bitter about not going.”

“You’re sure?” Josele pressed, her brows furrowed.

“Very sure.” Sterling leaned back and shouted into the house. “Now don’t keep Father, Uncle, and the others waiting, Mother!” She turned Josele around and pushed her towards the cluster of family waiting for the lady of the house.

“Right then! Okay!” Josele yelped as awkwardly stumbled forward from her daughter’s push. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “Take care of each other while we’re away.”

“Like we’d do anything else,” answered Sterling with a lazy wave of her hand.

With that, Sterling closed the door to House Faust and Josele went to where the rest of her family was waiting in the shade of trees. Nacht and Morgen greeted her with their usual loving smiles, plus a kiss on the hand from Nacht and a peck on the cheek from Morgen. Dawn excitedly bounced on the balls of her feet. Dusk fidgeted with the coat of his suit but there was still a small, eager grin on his face. Albert and Varg were whispering to each other, something about who will woo their beloved better. Valerian popped his knuckles, as if he was preparing for a fight and not a party. And Vivian stared at her mother, quiet and unreadable in her expression.

“Sorry for the hold up, everyone.”

“It’s perfectly alright, dear,” Morgen assured her. “Besides, we’re guaranteed to make it on time. Right?” He looked to Nacht, Dusk, and Varg.

Nacht sighed, “You’re lucky I like you, otherwise I’d be mad at you for treating me like Finral.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Morgen patted Nacht on the shoulder. “Thank you, the three of you, for helping us travel to the ball.”

“Now what are we waiting for?” Dawn exclaimed, throwing her arms into the air. She threw an arm around Dusk’s shoulders. “Let’s get going!”

With Nacht and Dusk’s Shadow Magic and Varg’s Eclipse Magic, the members of House Faust sank into the shadows before rising from them in front of Clover’s grand. Valerian and Varg quickly dashed away to be the first to enter. Dawn yelled “C’mon!” while she grabbed Dusk and Albert’s wrists to drag them along. And Vivian turned to her parents and uncle.

“It appears that us youths shall be taking the lead.”

“Not that you need us to guide you in,” Josele answered. She took a moment to adjust the ribbon in Vivian’s hair before letting her go. “We’ll see you all inside.”

“Have fun, Vivi,” Nacht said.

Vivian nodded then walked towards the palace entrance.

The three seniors of House Faust took a moment to themselves to make any final touch ups to their outfits. Nacht straightened the cuffs of his dress shirt and adjusted his cravat. Morgen shook down the cloak he wore with his suit. And Josele smoothed out the large ribbon that draped down the side of her gown. Both men offered their arm to the woman they loved, to which Josele decided to take Nacht’s arm. However, she did take a second to give Morgen a kiss and whisper, “You get my first dance though, okay?”

And thus began an enchanted evening.

#black clover #black clover fanfic #nacht faust #morgen faust #black clover oc #josele canty #next gen ocs #dawn faust #dusk faust #vivian faust #albert faust #varg faust #valerian faust #the parents and kids will be be splitting off!#also if you're wondering how morgen and his kids are there #let's just say i'm doing a little something called: what i want!#i'm giving josele her two husbands and that is that~!

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kimberbohwrites · 5 months ago

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Dusk & Honey: Chapter Two <Previous Chapter Word Count: 3,578 Rated: Overall fic rating is Explicit, this chapter is SFW READ ON AO3 (or continued below) Please don't forget to kudos/comment/like/reblog <3 >Halsin x Tav art by @ DARKURGETRASH on tumblr<

Summary: The story of my OC Tav, Luna and her experience during the timeline of the game, not modifying canon so much as adding more to the Halsin-romance path. Featuring: world-building, action, well-researched drow lore, hurt/comfort, slowburn Halsin romancing, and eventual smut. PLEASE MIND THE TAGS, we'll be exploring trauma in several areas including touching on some of the darker canon trauma faced by Halsin. Tags/Warnings: Eventual Smut, Enemies to Lovers, mildly they are gonna fight, Halsin Romance Route, Named Tav, Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Drow Culture , Half-Drow Tav, Anti-Drow Racism, Anti-Tiefling Racism, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Baldur's Gate 3, Cleric Tav, Implied/Referenced S*xual Assault, (meaning the eventual discussion of Halsin's time in the underdark), Pining

Both Halsin and Zevlor had insisted upon a celebration of their successful efforts to save both the Grove and the Tiefling Refugees trapped within. The Druid had refused to discuss the next steps until they’d taken a night off for rest. It was unexpected, being asked to linger for longer at the Druid Grove. But Halsin seemed to be full of unexpected things. Luna thought it strange that he should so greatly stand in contrast to his fellow Druids, he was the only one of them to even show up at the humble party within their camp that night.

Everything must have a balance and Halsin balances his fellow Druids, she mused to herself over a glass of wine that had more taste of vinegar than of vineyard.

Still — it was a reprieve and the most normal thing she’d experienced in the short tendays that had transpired since she’d awoken on the Nautiloid.

The night wasn’t all celebration however, young Wyll lurked over by the water out of the sight of all. His brow was newly adorned with a set of horns and several other infernal traits had come along with them. A punishment from his hell-bitch of a patron, Mizora. After doing her best to comfort her friend, she’d thought it best to leave him to his brooding.

She had visited several of her other companions this evening and had to politely decline several invitations of various after-party activities. As tempting as the thought of letting go for a night and enjoying the touch of another was, she still felt raw from the day before. More honestly, she didn’t want to provide an opportunity for them to ask prying questions about her loss of control with Minthara.

It had caused her to sleep worse than usual the night before, replaying that incident in her mind over and over. She’d hurt her friends and without her healing powers, Halsin might be dead. The guilt she felt took a warm but equally uncomfortable turn when she thought of the Archdruid. Though she’d never admit it, thinking of him kept her awake as well. Not just her shame, but thoughts of his soft eyes set on the rugged canvas of his handsome face.

She shook the memory away, lest she be distracted in front of the real thing just across the camp. In the morning they’d be leaving and Halsin would of course want to stay with his grove, it was a relief that she wouldn’t have to worry about the confusing feelings caused by the Druid, much longer.

At current she was finding it hard to ignore the nagging feeling that his eyes were boring holes into her back when it was turned, as she chatted with her companions and the tieflings. But each time she’d turned back in his direction, he seemed to be interestedly talking to Zevlor or looking off at the woods.

When she finally approached him it was later in the evening and the drinks had made her bold. Her mind screamed at her to deal with the Druid now before he became a distraction. It was already too much, she’d found herself thinking about his smile for some reason.

And the way he’d looked up at her from the ground as if she were something special, something worth loving, worth cherishing.

“Are you having a good night so far?”

“Ah! My hero! It is a pleasant night for company. Are the evening’s festivities to your liking?”

The guilt rose in her, combining with the warmth of the wine — she immediately felt uncomfortable in her own skin. Just be brave, flirt with him and bat your eyes. It always works, he’ll be interested and then he’ll be gone. They never stay.

“Yeah, it’s great, I was wondering if perhaps, you wanted to share a drink?”

His eyes held hers closely but revealed nothing but their general kindness.

“In truth, I rarely imbibe. The stuff goes right to my head. Before you know it, I’d be breaking into song or declaring love to the first person I laid eyes on.”

At his joke, she smiled her pretty, practiced smile. Not too much teeth, not too eager.

“I fail to see the problem. But, perhaps, there are other ways we could get to know each other?”

“I’m sure there are. You strike me as extremely… resourceful. But there are many grateful people here who want to spend time with you. I must not keep you all to myself. As enjoyable as that may be.”

For a moment her eyes widened in surprise. She wasn’t used to be turned down and he had seemed so interested before.

“I see, well, um…Okay, thanks”

Luna panicked; she wasn’t smooth enough to talk her way out of this situation.

“Go on, enjoy yourself. Seek out some wine before it runs dry — there are a lot of thirsty people around here.”

Halsin added, seeming kind even despite the awkward moment Luna was having. She smiled at him, biting her plush bottom lip nervously as she gazed up into his eyes. The moment stretched on as their eyes lingered on one another. Glancing down at his lips she found he was smirking slightly, revealing a flash of teeth. Maybe it was her imagination, but she could have sworn she saw a hint of point to his canine as if some part of the bear was always present. She’d already looked at his mouth for too long, she couldn’t look again.

Luna nodded at him, regaining her cool demeanor from the Halsin’s rejection at last. She could have sworn she’d seen a hint of pain in his eyes as she vanished behind her facade of easy charm and effortless kindness. It may have been wrapped in a flirty tone, but his rejection was clear and she wanted to get away from him immediately.

“Thanks, maybe I’ll do just that.”

Spinning on her heel quickly to leave, Luna doesn’t even bother to check if Halsin is done talking to her. She just needs to get away from the humiliation of this interaction. She spots Zevlor lurking not far off in the darkness on the edge of camp as she purposefully walks away from the Druid.

Her heart wrenched at the sight of the Paladin, he looked so… tired. While Luna was very likely older than the tiefling, he seemed to be considered on the older side amongst his race. He seemed burdened with the struggles of time and tragedy, she empathized for the man.

Most of her life on the surface had been in hiding. She served her Goddess by helping others escape Lolth’s wrath. As a result, thanks to the influence and wealth of the Drow, ransoms were offered on the surface and the Underdark for her head. She’d lived in hiding for a long time while working in service of her Lady.

She hadn’t realized how insular it had made her until she’d met Zevlor and the other refugees. Luna couldn’t even remember meeting a tiefling in her travels before. But already she understood that their people seemed to be subject to the ire and cruelty by the humans.

There weren’t many half-drow wandering around Faerun that she was aware of, in fact she’d never met any beside herself. A quick look in the mirror would reveal a very Drow looking woman, the only evidence of her human side is her size — too tall for the small, lithe frames that Drow women were known for. It made her both unknown and exotic to most people she encountered. More often than not, people chose to fear her before she’d even opened her mouth.

Yet, Zevlor and his people seemed even more reviled by those around them. It didn’t make sense to her. The Drow were a cruel people thanks to thousands of years of Lolth’s tyrannical reign over Menzoberranzan. While in her heart she hoped for a better future for her people, she wasn’t sure they were still capable of good even without the Spider-Queen’s influence. But the Tieflings? What crimes were they guilty of? What cruel goddess did they worship unquestioningly?

In short — she understood why people feared her at least a little, the evil deeds of the Drow were legendary. But what had the Tieflings ever done? Hating the unknown was not a uniquely human trait however, as ugly as their hate could be. While the relations between elves and the other races had improved in most areas over the years, their judgement was still sharp and brutal. That thought brought Minthara’s last words to the front of her mind once more, “Usually, someone would do you the kindness of putting an abomination like you out of your misery as a babe, how uncared for you were that they couldn’t have spared you the shame.”

She shook the thought away and gave the Tiefling a little wave as she passed by. His tail swished behind him. Luna couldn’t help but smile and wink at him before continuing on, wondering if that swish meant anything.

When she turned briefly and spotted the little flush on his already red cheeks — she had her answer. Still, her failure to control the situation with Halsin had her feeling down and she wanted to return to the peace of her tent. Cowardly though it may be, she was willing to risk being humiliated twice in one evening.

With a last goodbye to their guests she retreated to her bedroll. Eyelids heavy from wine and her heart even heavier from so much trouble already. Sleep wouldn’t find her easy this evening, of that much she was aware. She could only hope that the wine could soften the thoughts in her head enough for her to slip off to sleep alone in her bedroll.

—*—*——*—*—

The morning after the party, the tieflings seemed to be long gone by the time she’d risen. It was surprising as she tended to wake with the sun each day, but Zevlor was a disciplined leader. Searching her mind, she recalled him talking about an early start for his people toward their destination of Baldur’s Gate. Head only a little muddled from wine, she said an extra prayer that morning to the Dark Dancer for their safe passage to the city. Her Goddess provided refuge to the downtrodden who escaped Lolth and Luna believe that grace must extend to the tieflings searching for freedom of their own.

With a sigh she set about her day. Somehow, she’d been selected as the leader of her own group before she’d even sensed it. It wasn’t something that came to her naturally— leadership, but always seemed to be thrust upon her. Even when she had joined the other followers of Eilistraee to serve her in the goals of freeing people from Lolth’s tyranny — she had risen through the ranks quickly.

If only she could make herself smaller somehow. There were countless nights she lay awake in bed and hoped to disappear, to be invisible. But from her too-tall figure to not being able to keep her mouth shut, she drew attention on herself. It was only her trying to be helpful, to belong, that she would open her mouth with a suggestion or offer care to someone. But each time it drew focus on her she’d rather have gone without. She didn’t deserve the spotlight.

There was no denying that the group was certainly in need of leadership to even stand a fighting chance. They were infected by mindflayer tadpoles and even in the Underdark that was well-known as a death sentence.

Mindflayers weren’t unheard of in the Underdark, some noble Drow houses kept them in their courts, although their presence and usage was neither admitted nor considered acceptable by the public. But there were few advantages a Drow Matron would not take in to strengthen her house and her position. She found herself almost wishing Halsin could stay with their group to provide the sort of leadership and guidance they so desperately needed.

—*—*——*—*—

When they departed their campsite a few hours later, Luna could have kicked herself for wishing for the Druid’s guidance. She’d gotten it — in spades. Halsin followed up the rear of their group quietly as their newest member and Luna was still glowering over their fight about the next steps.

He’d been so rude when she expressed her frustration about not having more answers. Snapping at her before continuing on about the terrible blight of the Shadow Curse.

“I won’t be held accountable just because you’re naive enough to expect easy answers.”

“How dare you?! I’m just trying to help these people!” She had snapped back. She had felt Shadowheart’s hand on her shoulder and heard Karlach’s soothing coo. The Druid had insisted on continuing and Luna had forced herself to bite her tongue. Control yourself, the moon controls the tides as I control me. She had chanted in her head as Halsin went on, forcing her outrage behind the finely polished mask of constant calm once more. It wasn’t until he had brought up the Underdark that she had even bothered to open her mouth once again.

“We found the entrance to the Underdark in the temple after you left to set the grove to rights and I’m not sure it’s such a good idea. I have no idea where that leads. It could be the death of all of us.”

“The Shadow Curse is a fate WORSE than death, Luna! I do not relish the thought of venturing into the Underdark but I would not suggest such a course of action if I thought there were a safer way.”

His tone had at least been kinder than when he’d accused her of being naive but still firm. She hadn’t been able to tell if it was the thought of the Shadow Curse or if it was just her that got that made him this frustrated. Then, when he’d offered to join their camp to offer counsel and support as they ventured to Moonrise, it had taken each of her companions to convince her to agree to the Druid’s company.

She glanced back at him as they made their way toward the goblin camps to examine the entrance to the Underdark. It was strange, she thought, she’d expected him to look sadder as they left the Grove behind. Instead she found him looking ahead with a firm resolve on his face. When he caught her staring, he cocked an eyebrow at her and she flipped around quickly again. Animatedly, engrossing herself in listening to Wyll and Astarion rib each other back and forth. She wasn’t brave enough to turn back to see if he was still looking.

Just ignore him Luna, you don’t need everyone to like you. She told herself.

As they approached the goblin camp, the familiar touch of anxiety settled in her anew at the thought of being within the temple ruins again. It had only been a day or so since her loss of control, the incident still weighed heavily on her. She didn’t realize how heavy the burden was until they were once again under the roof of the ruined temple.

Something evil lurked forever within the walls, maybe it was simply her own regret that now haunted the place. Whatever it was, it seemed to compound with the weight in her chest she felt over the increasing and very real likelihood she’d be spending time in the Underdark once more.

It’s not that she hadn’t been back. She had returned since her escape but only in short trips and always staying clear of Menzoberranzan. The Drow have a long memory, longer for those who have wronged them. Thirty years was thirty seconds in the grand scheme of Drow revenge and plots. Her trips to the Underdark had always been as a guide for fellow followers of Eilistraee. Those who would go deeper within the cavernous lands to rescue others who were looking to escape the cruelty of the Drow.

The feeling of being watched snapped her from her thoughts. She was trying not to look as uncomfortable as she felt, but it didn’t help that she could feel the Druid’s eyes on her again, like he knew what she was feeling. How could he possibly understand? They never understand. I don’t need his pity. She can feel the spike of anger within her. Her blood thrums in her ears and she barely hears her campmates as they approach the Selunite puzzle that leads to the Underdark. She allows her mind to be present once more just in time to hear their rogue’s cutting humor.

“Looks like a long fall, The Blade had better be careful,” Astarion hissed as Wyll while lunging forward and giving him a slight push toward the ladder and the fatal plunge. Luna shoots them both a stern look. She doesn’t miss the way Wyll flushes a little at the vampire’s teasing.

“I quite agree with Luna, I think this whole Selunite Underdark plan is bad news,” Shadowheart says to Halsin as she clutches at the wound on her hand. No doubt the Dark Lady is punishing Shadowheart for being in her sister’s temple.

“It’s Luna’s decision, she picks the route we take and I will follow,” Wyll added nobly.

“May I speak with you for a moment, alone?” Halsin asked her with a harried look. After a long moment, taking time to enjoying the way he seems to sweat over her answer, she nods. He gestures for her to follow, leading her a few halls over until they come across a quiet alcove amidst the ruined temple.

When he rounds on her, she is distracted immediately by how small she feels in his presence. She’s always been tall, standing a head and shoulders above most of the people around her. The fact that the elf still stands several inches above her in stature rings through her mind, both pleasure and panic answer. Her heart races at his proximity.

Stop, she hisses to the traitor muscle in her chest. He very clearly doesn’t like you like that. Stop it. The sting of his rejection from the night before is still fresh in her memory.

“Whatever reason you have to fear the Underdark, it cannot be worse that the blight of the Shadow Curse,” He finally says.

Waves of emotion wash over her at his words. He doesn’t know anything about me. How could he possibly understand? What does this Druid even know of fear? She feels untethered by the sentence, pinpricks of panic blossom across her skin. With a deep breath she centers herself in the light of her Goddess, the only mooring she can tether herself to in a sea of emotion. She will not lose control again so soon.

Halsin studies her face, clearly watching the emotional struggle play itself out on her features with concern. Too long has passed since he spoke, and she knows she needs to answer him.

“Have you ever even been to the Underdark, Druid?” She almost spits the last word.

His eyes avert her gaze immediately. In a flash she swears she can see his calm demeanor falter for just a moment.

“I have.”

He offers no more and she knows immediately this is not something to pry into. There is a faint hint of sadness in his eyes when he meets her gaze once more. Her traitorous heart lurches again and she can only pray to her Goddess that the dusky blue of her skin hadn’t given way to a deeper blush on her cheeks.

Swallowing the feeling she gives him a tight nod.

“Fine.”

He sighs and she can’t help but silently celebrate having him so frustrated. It’s petty but she can only hope she’s causing him half the stress he’s already caused her.

Her mind tells her to walk away, that the conversation is over. But she doesn’t and neither does he, they just linger. Time slows as they gaze silently into one another’s eyes. He looks at her with what looks like hunger, but she knows it must be a trick of the dim light in their private spot. After his flat rejection she cannot bring herself to hope for anything more and besides, it seemed she was destined to spend her time fighting with him instead. She wills herself to look away, breathing slowly like it might make her heart stop racing. When she glances down, she sees his fists clenched tightly with coiled energy.

Halsin relaxes immediately when she notices and his entire demeanor shifts. For just a moment it felt like he contained a predator within, and she was just prey in his eyes. But then he’s himself once more. The moment passed and the familiar easy smile is in place again as he backs away.

“Oakfather be praised, you’re making the right decision Luna.”

She nods and gives him a tight smile, clearing her throat anxiously and quickly walking away.

Stupid! Why would you be alone with him? Never again. That was such a bad idea. She berates herself internally as she hastens to join her companions. As she grabs her pack with a flurry of busied activity, pointedly ignoring their looks, she finds herself looking forward to the Underdark. At least there it was clear cut and simple— live or die.

It had to be better than her increasingly confusing and awkward interactions with the Druid.

Taglist: @dutifullylazybread @scandistar @ladyofcrowsandcoffee @beaneburrito @tsabhira05 @cchickki @purpleasters-inseptember @reverieblondie @barbwillbrb @stuffforthestash @crowwolf @halsinningiswinning

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#dusk & honey #daddy halsin #halsin fanfic #halsin baldur's gate 3 #halsin bg3 #halsin fic #halsin romance #named tav #oc luna #drow lore #halsin #halsin silverbough

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