#his children were his to protect and he did so for centuries

[tenochconamor]

Shuri felt safe around Namor.

A year of her mom, her closest friends and family trying to get Shuri to open up about her grief was ineffective. However, after this King who everyone was afraid of, shared his life story, his history, his culture and his secrets with her she felt safe enough to share her complex feelings about her brother's death to him. Grief she had buried within for a year was laid bare, practically spilling her guts to him, in the face of Namor's own openness and vulnerability.

I think Shuri still longs for the connection she had with Namor even after everything that happened. She's more untethered than ever before and longs for the only person she ever felt that instant connection to but she can't go to him because it's not easy to forgive. So she goes to Haiti, the beach, as close to the water as she can and she cries.

[hauntingblue]

Why do they say dragon is luffy's father but doesn't look much like him... I mean it is true but why point it out... in that way he doesn't look like garp either

[sorcerous-caress]

Early morning cuddling pt.2

[Fluff, wholesome, nb!reader]

[Halsin, Astarion, Shadowheart, Gale]

Part One

Halsin

You'd think that you married a fairytale princess by the amount of small animals you wake up each morning to, cuddling by your side and nuzzling against Halsin's warmth.

Not that he seems to mind. If anything, he seems the happiest sharing his bed with all those willing. His strong arm keeps a hold over you during the night, keeping you close and secure to his chest while he easily falls into a state of meditation. He prefers keeping the window open and listening to the wind outside, swaying of leaves and chipping of bird in the morning.

You did wonder what exactly does he think about during his meditation, and he confessed he replays his favourite memories. Reminding himself of what's worth fighting for in this life.

His palm cupping your face so gently, rough from centuries of tending to plants and magic practice. You can smell the earth embedded in his skin.

Who is worth fighting for.

If you're the type to sleep in during the morning, he happily indulges you as you cuddle closer to him. Resting your head on the rise and fall of his chest.

Letting the drumming of his heartbeat lull you into the land of dreams, just for a short while, maybe five minutes more.

feeling his hand draw circles on your back soothingly. You catch a glimpse of a whispered prayer to the father of nature, Halsin asking him to protect you, keep your soul and heart pure, keep you by his side for as long as this cycle of life allows.

♡

Astarion

You only realise the worth of love after having experienced solitude.

Astarion came to realise how much it meant to have someone just hold you in bed, nothing more, a simple body laying next to him in blissful sleep.

To have someone relish in your company so much, feel safe around him so much that you'd willingly want him to stay by your side while you were the most vulnerable.

It feels strange in his heart, a twing or guilt, even shame.

What did he do to deserve this?

How are you so peaceful next to a vampire? This isn't a camp on some ditch in the backside of Faerun anymore, this is your home that you've willingly and foolishly invited a vampire into.

But maybe he was the biggest fool, for he kept holding you close, fangs tucked away as the smell of blood was the least of his interests at this moment. The living really has a captivating way to steal one's attention.

what dreams do you have?

Each night is like a trance, and before he realises, it ends so suddenly when glowing lines of light just below the thick curtains peak on the floor.

It's morning already, but it felt like a second, he wants to hold you for a lifetime, hug you for a century, kiss you for a decade and whisper your name as if it was his last breath.

He wants so many things, he has so many conflicting emotions. Astarion doesn't want to get attached, you're fleeting, mortal, alive and so loveable.

And he is none of these things, at least not in his views.

But after so much misery, he deserves to steal one good thing from the living, you. It doesn't matter if he has earned it or not, you willingly chose him, loved him.

Embraced him as you woke up, eyes sleepy as nuzzled into him further with no regard to how cold his skin might be in contrast to your warm blanket.

"Darling, you know I'm supposed to be the nocturnal one in this relationship, right? Or did you grow fangs during the night." He voice was laced with an unusual softness, a stranger to his own ears.

You grumbled as he pulled away, chasing after him with adorable slow speed with your hand as you attempted to bring him back.

He's not a sadist.

Okay maybe he is.

But torturing a sleepy you, is becoming one of the highlights of his days. It makes waiting here all night worth it.

♡

Shadowheart

Her eyebrows scrunch into the most adorable glare when she first wakes up. The children of Shar and Selune have never been morning people, present or past.

The tips of her ears slightly twitch as the cold morning reaches her after you manage to steal the blanket in your sleep, wrapping the soft thing around you and leaving her to the mercy of the chilly weather.

Stirred from her sleep, she has a half mind to acknowledge how endearing you look besides her. Peacefully in your slumber and unaware of the crime you've commited, letting your beloved freeze to death in the early morning.

With a sigh, Shadowheart reaches over to untangle tha blanket edge from your iron fist as she squeezes herself inside the makeshift cocoon you've assembled. Instant warmth and comfort greeting her the more she pressed her body onto yours.

Despite how heavenly you feel, sleep has already evaded her grasps. Once she wakes up, she's the type not to fall asleep afterwards. Doesn't help how much of a light sleeper she can be at times.

So she closes her eyes and basks in the moment, fully enjoying the presence. The quietness of the morning where the people haven't woken up yet, the stillness of the air, the slow rhythmic breathing as your chest rises and falls.

She wants to trace your face with her fingers, she wants to admire your eyes, but she doesn't want to wake you up so instead her arms gently hug your body closer to hers.

Safety, comfort and love, things she was taught were a sin to desire, things assumed to make her weaker.

But being weak has never felt so good before, if what she's doing is wrong in the eyes of any god, then she might as well embrace her spot in the hells with your arms as her grave.

♡

Gale

He's changing you slowly, and you're not sure if it's for the better or worse.

What started as you teasing him over his cotton pyjamas with cat paw prints, turned into you wearing a matching one after he bought you one and sweetly coerced you into it.

You look so silly. You can't even deny it as you watch your reflection in the mirror. Watching in real time as your dignity evaporates into thin air while your lover is searching for his reading glasses under the bed by using magic to lift it in the back of the mirror reflection.

Turning around, you feel your lips tugging into a smile as you notice the pair of reading glasses pushed up on his head while Gale is scratching his said head and mumbling about how he just had it close by.

Where could it have possibly went, you wonder.

Calling him over, you watch as he adorable walks over to you with a hopeful look that you've somehow found his glasses like you usually do. As if you were the wizard in this situation who'd make it appear out of thin air rather than the academically acclaimed professor Dekarios in front of you.

Your hand cups his face, and he leans into it without question. Planting a small kiss on his lips, you lower his glasses back onto his face as you pull away. Gale's delighted expression rewards you with a second kiss, calling you his hero.

The two of you fall asleep with a dim light illuminating the room, stray magical star enchantments making the bedroom just bright enough for Gale's midnight reading, or midnight paper grading.

You either learn to tough it out or use that equally silly eyemask that came with your cat pyjamas.

Gale's usually the last one to fall asleep, except on weekends when he's in bed by 9. But since tomorrow, he has to be guiding the future generations of wizards in Faerun, you get his wandering hand playing with your hair or massaging your neck as you drift off to sleep.

By the time morning comes, he's tucked in a blanket by your side. Glasses crooked on his face for he forgot to remove them, again.

Reaching over, you gently take them off of him and set them on the bedside table. Giving his forehead a soft kiss as you check the time and see that you still have a quarter of an hour before he has to get ready to leave for work.

You wrap your arms around him, and he leans into your touch. Even while asleep, his body has complete trust in you, recognising your warmth and letting you cuddle him.

It would've been a very romantic early morning cuddling for the two silly people in embarrassing cat pyjamas, wasn't it for the scratching of paws on the locked door of your bedroom.

The sing-song yelling of Gale's last name following shortly, courtesy to Tara announcing to the whole world how you're a minute late to delivering her morning meal and the carrier pigeons outside are starting to look more and more like grilled chicken wings by the second.

[bvidzsoo]

Underwater

The first star of Cosmically divine...

☆ Author: bvidzsoo

☆ Pairing: Choi San x female reader

☆ Warning: nudity, smut, blood, mentions of war and threats to kill someone

☆ Word count: 6.9k

☆ Rating: nsfw

☆ Genre: Greek mythology, San is Ares, forbidden love

☆ Summary: You knew that your love would never be fulfilled as the man you loved belonged to another woman. But can you help your poor Naiad heart when San, the God of war himself, seeks you out again and again when he is most vulnerable?

☆ A/N: Hi, lovelies!^^ I totally didn't write this piece in one sitting, naaah, yes I did. I hope it's good and enjoyable as I have my doubts with it I was so hyped up but anyways. I appreciate all your feedback, it is very welcomed, so let me know what you thought of it! If you'd like to join the taglist of the series let me know! I'll point out a few things before you start reading the story:

★ This is inspired by Greek mythology, but I took creative liberty and adapted it to my likes, so keep that in mind while reading, thank you! ★ Ares is the God of war ★ Artemis is the Goddess of hunt ★ A Naiad Nymph is a female spirit that preside in fresh water ★ Aphrodite is the Goddess of love ★ Hermes is the messenger of Gods ★ Iris is the goddess of rainbow but was also considered messenger of Gods ★ Atë is the goddess of mischief ★ Dion is a village and municipal unit in the municipality of Dion-Olympos in the Pieria regional unit, Greece; it's known for its sanctuary of Zeus and its ancient city (it's so beautiful over there guys, if you get the chance, you should definitely visit the village, and Mount Olympus too!!) ocean divider; greek divider

☆ Taglist: @patchofblue @sthwaaberry @constipatedcorgi @holytidalwavechees3cake @cheolliehugs

@slowitdownmakeitb0uncy @hoeforsungie

༄ ҉ Series m.list ༄ ҉ 　

            On the outskirts of the ancient city called Dion, just by the foot of Mount Olympus an enchanted forest vivid with Nymphs of all kinds encompassed the land, offering a much-needed sanctuary and protection to those who were in need of tranquility and a piece of quiet, away from all mortals, and even Gods that had their watchful eyes on everyone and everything at all times. The small Lake of Naia, springing from the top of Mount Olympus, rushing down rapidly the rocky side of the mountain only until it became merely a gentle stream was the place I referred to as my home. It wasn’t just my home, it was the home of many Naiad nymphs that have been birthed and then raised on the shores of Lake Naia by their elderly sisters, naiads that have been here for centuries, having witnessed atrocities, but so many beautiful life-changing events as well. We were fond of this place, and we protect it ardently. No foul soul was allowed in the vicinity of our sacred Lake, Artemis herself having blessed our sanctuary.

Men who were desperate for enlightenment, or were feeling lonely, would often find solace in our presence, grateful for an eternity to us, making promises, which, due to their fragile lives would never be completely fulfilled. But that was alright, my sisters and I never expected too much from them as long as they honored and cherished our land, our Lake, our home. After all, mere mortals wouldn’t be able to offer us what the Olympian Gods could. Warm bodies and warm souls that we could often lay upon our hardships, our fears, and our future ambitions. I have never stepped too far away from my home, walking barely a few feet away from the Lake would make me feel restless and unnerved, unsafe and exposed to the not so kind men that liked to haunt and torment us when the Gods weren’t on the look out for their dear naiads.

Besides Artemis, not many came often to Lake Naia, its location too close to Olympus and yet too far from Dion for the Gods that were rather lazy, like Apollo. Zeus always had his eyes on his children and kin, however, if they travelled far away enough from Olympus, he’d certainly turn a blind eye to whatever shenanigans they deemed fit on their travels on Earth, disguised as something they were not. Even Artemis liked to change her features when she came down to bless our Lake and show gratefulness for guiding and protecting the maidens through their hardships, however, there was one God that never bothered to hide his true self. All bloody and gory and authentic, brute yet hands gentle as if they were afraid to bruise those innocent, eyes sharp and menacing upon first glance, yet warm and intense on a second glance. The mortals liked calling him Ares, but I preferred his birth name, the one Zeus had given him, San.

San had always been a gruff and intimidating man, as the God of war, he was strong and vigilant, quick on his feet and cutting with his words. Very few naiads had the courage to approach him, scared he’d hurt them if they displeased him in any way, and so, the task of looking out for him whenever he visited Lake Naia fell on my hands. And despite the stories that I have heard about the fearless man, I couldn’t bring myself to find him terrifying or mal-intentioned, not when his lips quivered when he whispered the names of those fallen in battle, not when tears would escape his beautiful eyes before he’d submerge in the crystal-clear water of Lake Naia, desperate to rid himself of all the blood, suffering, and screams of those that have perished underneath the sharp blade of his sword. San was a man with a delicate and soft soul, yearning for a connection that was simple, a connection in which he didn’t have to explain himself nor feel guilty, a connection where one simply listened to his burdens and coaxed him further inside the warm and tranquil waters of Lake Naia.

Being immortals, it’s been too long and I wouldn’t be exactly able to pinpoint the time and date of when San decided that he’d choose Lake Naia as his piece of heaven and peace after a long and exhausting battle, but ever since then, his visits became more and more frequent. Perhaps it was due to the rising tension between the settlements as the mortals were never quite thankful with what they’ve got, so, they challenged each other to a war that only lead to disaster and suffering, dividing families and scarring individuals for a lifetime. And despite the real reason as to why San was here should have saddened me, as a protector of maidens that have fallen victim in these wars, I only found my heart gleeful and quickly beating the more often he showed up. There was something majestic, captivating and divine about San, and my poor Naiad heart stood no chance against a man whose walls crumbled the second his armor was off his body.

            Times were dire, nature had a way of silently absorbing everything the mortals felt. And as part of nature myself, I found myself quite volatile lately. Even the quietest snap of a twig sent us back deeper inside the lake, ready to submerge and watch from underneath whatever fool decided to approach our sacred place. My sisters grew restless and they refused to step out of Lake Naia, whispers of the forest surrounding us carrying word that a war not too far from our home was brewing as the military forces of two settlements failed to see eye to eye. Artemis visited more often than before, blessing our humble abode and promising a new location that would be even safer if the events would turn grimmer, but my sisters and I refused to flee. This is our one and only home, the only place that we’ve known since eternity, since the cosmos has birthed us, and if it came to it, we’d rather perish with this place than abandon it and leave those who love it as much as us behind. Artemis did not like our refusal, but her word couldn’t go against our eldest sister’s, and once we’ve put our hearts to something, we rarely changed our minds.

Due to the sun hiding behind the clouds, the Lake failed to stay as warm as usual, but our songs kept it idle for a quick dip. My sisters have disappeared somewhere deep-down underneath, their absence coating the surroundings in a serene silence, perhaps a little bit even eerie. I knew what this meant as I lurked just above the surface, eyes set on the steadily approaching figure. Its outline was harsh and looked to be almost vibrating as his heavy footsteps echoed in the silent forest, the animals just as reluctant as my sisters to be in the vicinity of the God. Pushing my head above water, I took a deep breath and slowly swum towards the shore, the soft water clinging to my skin like a second skin. The sword that was gripped in the God’s hand glinted in the light, despite the sun being hidden, and it left a red path in its wake as he came closer to the Lake. Something salty and nauseating hit my nose as my feet touched the fine soil of the Lake, the water up to my neck as the sword slipped from the God’s hand, clanking loudly against the grey stones that littered the path that led towards Lake Naia. Heath flooded my body, and it wasn’t from the Lake as I walked further out, water below my chest, it was from the God’s body heath as red veins swirled underneath his pristine and tan skin as his arms were left exposed. The miniscule cut on his right bicep was the first thing that caught my eyes as the water of the Lake finally reached my ankles, white dress heavily clinging to my body and failing to hide anything as my black hair looked almost molded to my back as it wetly stuck to it. A soft exhale and the deep furrow of his dark eyebrows was the first sign that my God felt exhausted as we came to stand face to face, his body tense and vibrating with the remnants of adrenaline, meanwhile mine felt lax and tingly as I bowed my head, curtsying.

“San, my possessor.” I didn’t need to speak loudly, there were no sounds around us, just San’s breaths coming out in short puffs, chest rising and falling rapidly underneath his black steel armor. The stench of death would make anyone run away, but as I raised my head up and laid my eyes upon my possessor’s face again, I could only feel pity seeing the regret and exhaustion whirling together in his sharp eyes, clouding his mind and I could almost hear his thoughts.

“Y/N, my nymph.” And the God’s voice that roars and shatters in a battle was now shaky and soft, warm to the point that it made my heart beat faster, “I have missed you dearly.”

I didn’t dare smile as I extended my right hand, eyes stuck to the swipe of dark blood underneath his right eye, trailing down to leave the impression of a bloody tear. I swiped at it with my thumb, and San’s eyes closed as he gulped, sighing loudly.

“Let me take away your burdens.” I whispered as I stepped closer, the heath almost devouring me as the red veins seemed even more alight underneath his tan and soft skin, heart beating out of the God’s chest as his eyes slowly opened, black eyelashes fluttering as they settled on my face.

“Please.” A God never pleaded, never fell to their knees in front of anyone. A God was strong and fearless, ready to devour anyone who dared disobey their command. I offered San a small smile as I leaned forward, lips parting just slightly before they made contact with the cut on San’s bicep, a whimper leaving the man’s lips upon the contact. And his eyes were glazed over as I pulled back, the taste of salt tangible on my tongue as I caressed his now healed bicep. San knew what to do, and with a deep breath he fell to his knees, hanging his head low as my hands caressed his cheeks before his jaw, settling around his neck. His skin was hot, flaming almost, gushing with life underneath all that heavy muscle and flesh, desperate for a gentle and understanding touch. I allowed my hands to travel lower, onto his shoulders, nimble fingers unclasping the harsh steel from around his defined shoulders. A pause, another sigh, and San stood tall once again, a calloused hand settling on my hip as he oh so gently pulled my body closer, my fingers itching the more blood they touched, which was now rusted onto his armor, the same armor that Hephaestus had designed for him upon the request of Zeus so that it would make San, his bellowed son, invincible. San’s sharp, but softening, eyes remained on my face as my hands first went around his middle, leaning my fragile body against his. It was sturdy, unmovable like a mountain, but it was also warm and gentle, a quiet promise that it would keep you safe from any evil. San’s fingers twitched before they dug into my hip, his armor sharp and cold against my own body, but I welcomed its closeness as San seemed to melt into the embrace, his tense muscles finally easing up at last. He could finally be vulnerable, bloody or not, in my eyes he was perfect and benevolent.

“Your battle must have been strenuous.” I spoke up, breaking the comfortable silence, as I gently peeled myself back from the embrace, fingers latching onto the clasps at the God’s middle, undoing them and letting the bloody armor fall to the ground, looking like it’s been broken in two. But it wasn’t, it was unbreakable just like its possessor.

“I have not had the opportunity to close my eyes for six days as of today.” His deep voice lost all the malice it usually carried, and my eyes remained focused on the dents and marks the armor has left on the poor God’s sun-kissed skin. My warm fingertips gently traced against them, the muscles flexing underneath them as the God hummed in content, both hands holding firmly onto my hips. I smiled as he leaned forward and gently rested his chin on top of my head, allowing me to trace the scars left by his ruthless armor, knowing that they’d disappear if I touched them. I closed my eyes as my fingertips reached them hem of his trousers, which weren’t made of steel but were magically enhanced so that there wouldn’t be a repeat of Achilles, and I leaned just a little bit forward to press kisses tracing his collarbones. The sighs the God let out were of pleasure and he hummed in appreciation as I untangled the knots of his trouser and gently pushed them down his hips, caressing his loins firmly as San groaned, nails digging through the thin fabric of my white translucent dress.

“Then we shall get inside the Lake.” I proposed and San hummed in agreement, grip not faltering as I stepped back to steer us inside the water. When our eyes found each other again, his were ablaze with want and need, but he knew he had to wait until we got inside the water. And so, he reluctantly released me and eagerly took my extended hand as I interlaced our fingers, a small and charming smile appearing on his face for the first time today. I chuckled and lead us back to the water, walking backwards as the smile only seemed to stretch on San’s lips, red veins ablaze and whole being glimmering in the light of the small clearing the Lake resided in, the clouds slowly uncovering the blazing sun as the weather reached my thighs, San’s body convulsing as it was overheated from the battle and the Lake would cool it down. I walked further inside, my body welcoming the familiar feel of the soft water brushing against myself, like a cocoon forming a protecting layer over it, my own armor.

San’s body shook when it was finally submerged, underwater, and I released his hand as I giggled and took a deep breath, to tease him, and dipped my head underwater. I opened my eyes and grinned as his legs kicked out to stay above water, never having been keen of having his head under the clear water of the Lake. His naked body looked almost translucent underwater and I swum around it, playfully nipping at the skin of his back, thighs, abdomen, calves, and chest, my teasing cut short when a strong hand seized me around the neck and yanked me above water, dark brown eyes coated with lust and cheeks flushed as our bodies pressed together, legs wrapping around his middle subconsciously.

“Rest now, my San.” I whispered, eyes fluttering shut as his hot breath fanned my face, heart thundering underneath the hand pressed against his chest.

“I’ll bring you a star on our next rendezvous.” His words were rushed, almost desperate before hot lips pressed against mine, devouring them with fervor, with desperation and a neediness that I fear will never be satiated.

            The forest was loud for once, animals buzzing around, a deer timidly coming down to our Lake to hydrate itself, and Yeri, our youngest naiad, lay giggling on the shore as she teased the deer by leading it around in circles with a string of water, until our eldest sister chastised her for tormenting the innocent creature. As our youngest sibling, she was rather mischievous and loved to play around whether it was with animals or humans. Younger men especially loved her, but she only enjoyed their company as long as they remained on land and her in water. She was the least trusting of anyone other than her naiad friends, thus why she had refused even Artemis’ offer of finding her a lover that would dearly cherish her.

I was laid back on a larger rock by the Lake, resting back on my elbows, my white dress almost completely dry as I swirled my toes around in the water, humming in contentment as my sisters voices meddled with mine as they were gathered towards the middle of the Lake, playing a tagging game. I smiled as I listened to their giggles and cheers, which were mixing with the beautiful songs the birds were singing, echoing our voices almost perfectly. The strong, divine, presence first gained our attention as everyone perked up, sensing it come closer as my body grew jittery. I curiously stood up, not expecting a visit from Artemis so soon, or another deity for the matter. But when my eyes fell on the approaching form in the distance, I instantly knew who it was. My eyebrows furrowed and my heart jumped in joy, but I couldn’t help feel concerned at the same time. San never visited unless he went to war, to a battle, and he had told me truce was laid upon the two settlements after they lost many men. He had no reason to visit, yet he was here. And my sisters shared my unease as they all grew warry, stopping their game as the eldest one called Yeri over, deeper into the water. I scrambled onto my feet and offered them a calm smile, not wanting them to panic and do something rash when it came to San. Understanding my request, they swum further away from the shore, only their eyes and the top of their heads visible as my feet touched the soft grass, San’s face now visible as he came closer.

Expecting complications and even a summoning to Olympus, instead, a bright smile decorated his lips, eyes crinkled and a skip to his confident steps as he hurried down the path having spotted me. Feeling confused but glad to see him nonetheless, I returned his smile and gasped when I was swept off my feet, his arms firm around my waist and twirling me around. I clung to his neck, lips brushing against his ear as I giggled, a similar sound leaving San’s lips. My heart skipped a few beats before it started beating faster altogether, every vertebrate in my being jittery as I realized this was the first time I have seen San so happy and relaxed, his sword nowhere in sight, and his armor polished and clean, glinting and carrying the scent of pine and musk instead of the salty stench of blood.

When he was done twirling me around, he placed me down on my feet, but kept his arms around my waist and leaned down hastily, warm and red lips pushing against mine. My eyes fluttered closed and I allowed myself to melt into him, cupping his cheek as our lips moved together softly, making it feel like it was the first time I was kissed by him. I felt my head whirl around and fingertips grow warm as San smiled into the kiss, apparently refusing to pull back just yet as he kept pressing little pecks against my plush lips. There was something about his demeanor that brought tears to my eyes, a side of San that I was seeing for the first time despite us knowing each other for an eternity now. I had dreamed of what a happy and free San looked like, a San that wasn’t tormented by a battle where he had to slay mortals and swallow their screams, feed off of the pure madness, hatred, and rage. I have prayed to Artemis to see a San that was so happy his whole body glowed from it, and now that I had him in my arms, laughing and kissing me, I couldn’t contain my own emotions.

“Why are you crying, my little nymph?” His voice carried worry as he caressed my cheek and swiftly wiped a stray teardrop from underneath my eye, eyebrows furrowing, “Have I made you sad? Perhaps even mad by showing up so unexpectedly?”

“No!” My voice raised without me meaning to do so, and my arms tightened around him as I pushed up on my tiptoes, ours noses grazing together as I stared inside his dark and soft brown eyes, “No, my San, I am beyond delighted to see you in such light. I have only dared to dream of seeing you one day happy and carefree.”

“My little nymph,” San whispered, expression faltering for a second as pain clouded his eyes, but it was quickly gone as I traced his high cheekbone with my forefinger, eyes taking in his beautiful features only a God was gifted with, “I had not known you harbored such wishes; I should have known seeing me always all roughed up after a battle brings you pain.”

“No, San,” I shook my head, a small smile appearing on my lips, “It brings me peace of mind and solace that I am the one you seek out after such feat, that I am the one you come to, to chase away your pain and fears after a battle.”

“Sometimes I see the stars in your eyes, Y/N.” San’s voice was merely a whisper as his hand gently brushed a strand of hair off my face and behind my ear, “When you look at me so deeply like right now, they sparkle with life and I see the cosmos in them. You are majestic underwater, but it will never come close to how you look when your eyes land on me.”

I gulped, feeling speechless as my cheeks grew hotter and darker in color, fingers tangling into the small hair on San’s nape. It was the first time his black hair wasn’t pushed back to make his eyes look even more piercing, but was rather soft looking and fluffy, hanging into his eyes as a dimple formed in his cheek as a wide grin made it onto his face again, “If my heart stops beating one day, I wish you to be the last thing I see before I must go.”

San shook his head, eyebrows furrowing again as he held onto my face, leaning so close his lips brushed against mine when he spoke, “You shall never leave me first, I promise you’ll be here until my last worshipper perishes, and even then I do not wish to take you with myself into the Underworld.”

“We won’t go to the Underworld, San.” He gulped as our gazes bore into each other and then he nodded, wordlessly and looking a little defeated, releasing my face as he cleared his throat. Sensing that he had something important to say, I released him and stepped back a little bit, watching him curiously as he reached inside his armor, pursing his lips as if he couldn’t find what he was looking for. I took my time to pay close attention to him, to take in his all like this, so that I could replay it when I missed him most. The way the sunlight fell on him made his caramel skin glow even more, face relaxed and a smile almost always present on his red lips, eyebrows unfrowned for once and expression serene as his muscles remained lax, not even a bit tense. When he finally found what he was looking for, he made a sound of triumph and I smiled a little wider, looking at him with big eyes as he pulled a collar out of his armor. I couldn’t determine what it was for, or whether it was a necklace or a collar, but when he opened his palm and raised it up for me to see better, I gasped in shock. There, worked into the steel that looked a lot like the one his armor had, was a little glowing star shining almost blindingly up at me.

“I promised to bring you a star,” San said quietly and then turned me around gently, pulling my black hair from around my shoulders to one side only, “I wish you keep something of mine on yourself, for protection.”

My lips pulled into a small grin as the cold steel touched the base of my neck, “You wish for everyone to know who I belong to upon one glance, don’t you, my greedy little possessor?”

San chuckled behind me as I felt him secure the clasp, his voice just a little bit deeper when he spoke up again, “You know me too well, my little nymph.”

His lips brushed against my ear and I turned my head to look up in his eyes, heart beating out of my chest, “Thank you, San, like the star around my neck, I’ll continue gazing at you as if you were my own personal star.”

A beat of silence passed between us before I felt San’s body press up against mine from behind, hand coming up to cradle my jaw and hold it firm as he leaned down into a searing kiss as reward for my words, as reward for allowing him to claim me in front of all Gods and Goddesses.

            Not long after San’s visit, another deity seemed to be keen of visiting our humble Lake Naia. Albeit, this Goddess has never been too fond of our existence right at the feet of Mountain Olympus as she had claimed we’ve been charming her men away from her. She could have anyone, she had everyone, us mere Naiads could never live up to her beauty and charms, but she failed to see and understand that. My sisters and I had been gathered around the rocks, just by the shore, giggling about the latest gossip we have heard through Hermes’s secret lover, having been accomplice to the kidnapping that he had planned for Iris. We have sworn secrecy to her and Hermes, and swore to keep her safe and hidden from Zeus as long as she sometimes indulged to our gossipy nature and came down to the Lake for a bath where she’d share all her stories as she lived in the closest settlement, Dion. An outcast Goddess had been wreaking havoc lately there and Iris was trying to find ways to warn men without the other deity catching on, but Hermes is too scared Atë would tell Zeus of his once prized seer’s whereabouts and thus had forbidden Iris from meddling with the other Goddesses shenanigans.

The birds songs grew louder and the foxes ran out of the bushes as a light breeze entered the clearing the Lake resided in, and the strong scent of roses and pomegranate invaded our senses as my sisters and I became alert to the presence of a deity other than the two we would welcome here so often. The lower half of my dress was soaked as I had dangled it in the water prior, and due to Yeri, my long black hair was now tangled into intricate twists with flowers secured in it. The cold steel necklace sat snuggly against my neck, the star softly buzzing at all times and sometimes humming along to my songs. The giggles and laughter died down as the approaching presence took its time apparently, taking in everything our humble abode had to offer her. My eyes stayed on her, closely watching her every move, and I felt the strength leave my legs upon realizing who it was. I felt my cheeks heat up all of a sudden, the steel necklace too heavy around my neck as my lungs seized up, almost suffocating me. Yeri, always quick to catch the change in someone’s mood, intertwined her fingers with mine and squeezed them gently, offering comfort in the subtlest of ways.

“Ah, Lake Naia,” The Goddess’ voice was melodic and soft, yet it carried over the space between her and us, “I have heard so many stories about this place, but never truly had the itch to come and see it for myself. You have bewitched quite a few men, my little nymphs, both mortal and immortal, do you know?”

Her piercing eyes fell on me as she finally reaches us by the rocks, making me gulp as I averted my eyes, looking at our eldest naiad as she stood gracefully, a pleasant smile on her lips as she approached the Goddess.

“Aphrodite, my Goddess, what brings you to our humble home?” The naiad curtsied and Aphrodite chuckled, looking around. A dove flew overhead and I felt goosebumps erupt on my skin underneath the white dress as the star became a little bit too hot against my skin.

“I have come to bathe in the Lake that chases away all your fears and terrors.” The Goddess said, suddenly unlacing the top of her yellow tunic, leaving her bare to our eyes, “At least that is what everyone claims this place accomplishes.”

“My Goddess, we would love to have you bathe in our lake.” The eldest naiad smiled, stepping aside to let the Goddess walk towards the lake, “We’ll take away all your worries, just as you wish.”

“I want her to bathe me.” A perfect milky finger was pointed towards me and my lungs seized up again, a lump suddenly forming in my throat as I opened my mouth to speak up, but my vocal chords felt like they were being crushed. Yeri grew tense next to me, her grip on me tightening as she stood in front of me protectively, glaring at the Goddess. She was fearless, she looked the lions in the eyes and challenged them without any fear for the repercussions.

“Aphrodite, my Goddess, I am afraid she will not be able to bathe you.” The eldest naiad tried to save the situation, the air growing tense as my vocal chords started to burn and I gasped, grasping at my neck helplessly.  

“She has been claimed by Ares!” It was Yeri’s shrill voice that tore through the clearing, making our sisters gasp around us as finally the pressure from my vocal cords was gone and my lungs also eased up, forcing me to intake large gulps of air, “She cannot touch any other deity than San himself, my Goddess, but you knew that already, did you not?”

“A Naiad with a sharp tongue, how refreshing.” Aphrodite chuckled as I yanked on Yeri’s hand and gave her a harsh stare for being inconsiderate and rude to a Goddess that could turn her into foam within a blink of an eye.

“I apologize, my Goddess, for her rudeness, she is still young and has to learn much.” I bowed my head deeply as I went to stand next to our eldest naiad sister, “I promise to teach her some manners myself, do not punish her just yet, I beg of you—”

“Like you have begged my husband to bed you?” A malicious smile grazed her lips, “Well…bed you, figuratively speaking as you seem to lack of beds in this place, pity, he fucks hardest when he has a headboard to hold onto.”

My jaw clenched as her comment felt like a punch to my ego, tears threatening to prick my eyes as Yeri came to stand next to me, standing just slightly more forward, but when she opened her mouth to speak up, the Goddess beat her to it, “You thought you could fuck my husband and I wouldn’t know? I know everything that happens inside and outside of Olympus, you little minx.”

“Then why does it bother you just now?” I gulped down the fear that bubbled through my system, and looked the Goddess in the eyes as I continued with my question, “Why just now when you’ve known all along what your husband was up to?”

For a second, Aphrodite seemed to freeze, but then slowly, her eyes fell onto the necklace that sat securely around my neck. He’d claimed me, San he had claimed me, meanwhile Aphrodite never quite loved any of his secret lovers to the point that she’d claim them. It hurt her, because it showed San was devoted to me, that he had given me a piece of himself, that he promised of a little particle of his heart that didn’t belong to Aphrodite anymore. Her ego was bruised and she couldn’t deal with the thought of a nymph stealing something that was once hers. She didn’t need to answer the question, her silence spoke volumes like her answer could never.

“Stray clear of my path if you do not wish to turn into foam, little nymph, or perhaps pray to Artemis to keep you safe from Zeus.” My sisters gasped as my lips quivered, dread filling my body at the thought of getting touched by Zeus. Even if a God claims you, Zeus can still do whatever he wants to you. His word and power were grater than any other Gods. I did not wish to come across Zeus, ever, terrified that he’d break me.

And just as quickly as Aphrodite had appeared, the foxes ran through the bushes one more time, a white dove flying over Lake Naia, and then she was gone, her sweet scent carried away by the wind that seemed to bring rain clouds with itself.

            The days and nights passed by sluggishly, almost as if to taunt me, fear rooting deeply into my bones as I preferred to stay underwater most these days, not keen of coming across any deity. Artemis managed to coax me outside and blessed me, promised protection once again, having heard of Aphrodite’s visit, whispering that San has been at war for a month now. Nobody knew anything about him as he just disappeared one night, but they knew he was alive, he’d send scrolls to his father, Zeus, and updated him about the advancement of the war. When the evenings started feeling lonely, despite the presence of my sisters, I felt my little star humming just a little louder for me to hear and burning warmer, warming my chest from the inside out. I found it my only solace as I yearned for my God, but was scared of what would happen if I allowed him close again.

The stars had been long up on the night sky, high up and shining down brightly, almost as if calling out to its kin that now shimmered in the dark around my neck. I continued to gaze up at them, floating on the dark surface of the Lake, crickets creating a serene cacophony as my sisters’ hums have long subsided as they have gone to sleep. I have found myself grow more restless than usual tonight, the stars calling out and coaxing me to stay awake as if to look over our home, protect it from unwelcomed guests. And when the clearing grew eerily quiet and the stench of death invaded my senses, I gasped and submerged, watching as a dark figure approached the water with almost sluggish moves. My body yearned to feel his warm touch and my heart started racing in my chest, but I did not move. I watched, not too far from the shore, as he came to an abrupt stop just before the water could reach his feet, and he gently placed his sword onto the ground.

“My little nymph.” His voice was quiet, tired, and rough sounding. Tears pricked at my eyes but I forced myself to go just a little bit deeper underneath, the star around my neck pulsing ferociously. My body felt on fire from it, but I refused to act upon my desperate wishes, “Y/N, my little star, where are you?”

My lips quivered and I turned, clutching the star desperately as it started calling out faintly, whether for its kin or for the God that had gifted it to me, I couldn’t tell. The swift clinking of steel and its clasp being undone echoed loudly in the silent clearing and the water was suddenly disturbed as I whirled around, eyes growing wide as I watched my God rush inside the water. It colored the water red around himself, more so than usually, and my heart clenched upon noticing the countless bruises decorating his legs and the gash close to his groin. Who dared wound up my San like that?

I felt helpless as my body acted before I could consider my next actions, and I quickly swum closer, lips touching the large gash underwater, eager to heal his perfectly sculpted body. San’s gasp was loud above water, and before I could swim away, large and calloused hands gripped at my shoulders and yanked me above, making me gasp out loudly as water dripped from my hair onto my face. San’s eyes were wide and streaks of tears made his cheeks shine under the starlight, and I gulped, eyebrows furrowed as I helplessly traced his forehead, wiping the excess blood from there and from his temples.

“My little nymph, why would you hide from me?” San sounded breathless as his eyes desperately searched my face, grip growing stronger as it slipped to my arms, “Do you not love me anymore?”

My eyebrows furrowed and my heart squeezed as I pushed at his hard chest, fury licking at my insides all of a sudden, “How dare you doubt my love for you, San?!”

“You refused to show yourself to me,” His voice grew hard, but his dark eyes remained soft, “You weren’t waiting by the Lake for me, you didn’t undress me, you refused to bathe me. You must not love me anymore—”

“I allowed you to claim me!” I hissed, gripping his jaw tightly, his eyes finally hardening as I got closer to him, “I allowed you to claim me with something of yours, and you doubt my love for you after you disappeared without notice?!”

“I must hear your reasoning before I forgive you.” My eyebrows furrowed and I bit my lower lip, Aphrodite’s words echoing in my head. I’d be turned into foam, and then, all the love I harbor for my God will be lost, felt in vain, unfulfilled.

“She will turn me into foam, you have angered her, my possessor.” My voice was merely a whisper, but loud enough in the silent clearing, in the serene Lake. I didn’t have to name her; San knew who I was referring to.

“Once a God claims something as theirs, nobody is allowed to touch it, not even a Goddess out of spite, my little nymph,” San’s tone was strong and confident, carried no room for an argument, “And I, Y/N, I love you with my whole soul and promise to protect you until my last worshipper dies and I perish with them.”

“Then you shall never perish,” I cupped his cheeks, my legs securing around his hips as San’s hand slipped to my back, holding me flushed against himself, “Because I am immortal like yourself, I shall never die and you shall never perish with me.”

A strong emotion that could be only described as adoration crossed San’s features before his eyes closed and his lips pressed against mine, making me cling onto him as our lips moved in a dance that made my heart thunder in my chest, rhythm syncing up with his heartbeat, beating together and for one another. The stars shined perhaps brighter that night as San carried us out onto the rocks, laying me down gently and reassuring me that I would be alright, that as long as he was by my side nothing and no one would hurt me. And his lips sealed the promise as his warm body covered mine, sinking slowly inside me, our souls uniting as my back arched and the star around my neck hummed louder than ever before. San’s each and every single kiss carried a whispered promise as it traveled from my jaw to my neck, nibbling at my collarbones as his thrusts stayed sharp and deep, my fingernails digging deeply into his shoulders, marking him up for everyone to see, for Aphrodite to find tomorrow and rage in her pretty bedroom as she isn’t able to do anything about it.

San’s name left my lips almost in a mantra, almost as if I was praying to a God that answered all my prayers and fulfilled all of my wishes, head thrown back and tears trailing down by cheeks as I saw the stars behind my eyes. San feared no God and he had no fear of breaking me as his thrusts became ruthless, pelvis slamming against mine, making me cry out his name repeatedly, finding anchor in his black messy hair and on the rock I was laid onto, the sounds he made growing louder within seconds as he grew closer to his own release. His hands found purchase on my hips as he threw his head back, losing himself in the feeling of pure bliss and euphoria, glazing up at the stars that never shined brighter than my own eyes.

And with my name undyingly on his lips, I knew if I were cursed to become a star one day, I would do so gladly knowing that he saw stars in my eyes, loved me enough to bring down one for me, cherished me enough to promise a death where we’d flicker away at once.

❱❱ Next star

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[inkedinshadows]

A Place Called Home

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

Summary: Follow Azriel as he recalls all the places where he's lived but never belonged, until he finds the one where he finally does.

Warnings: a bit of Inner Circle slander, I guess? But not really tbh. Mentions of wing clipping

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: I don't know what I think of this one tbh. It's not exactly what I had in mind, but I've made my peace with it. @azrielappreciationweek

Azriel had never belonged in his father's mansion. He never once believed he did. But he didn't belong in Illyria, either.

Though he was Illyrian, he always disapproved of their backward traditions, especially regarding females.

He had seen how his mother was treated; he knew what had happened to Cassian’s, and too many times during his training in Windhaven, he had to witness brutal clippings without being able to stop them.

How could he belong in such a place? A place where females were treated as little more than objects and breeding mares, where children were taught to fight as soon as they could walk and left to care for themselves in the mud and cold?

He had done horrible things—most of which to protect his family and court—and they still haunted him in his sleep at times. But he liked to think that he was at least better than the Illyrian brutes he had grown up among. That there were certain lines even he wouldn't cross.

Illyria was a beautiful land, with its snow-capped mountains and frozen lakes. It could be merciless and harsh, but that was nature. Its inhabitants, however, chose to be that way, and Azriel had long since lost faith in any change.

~~~~~~

He didn't belong in Rosehall, either.

He was always welcome there and visited as often as he could, but that was his mother’s house. He had bought it for her as soon as he had enough money.

It was her safe place, her haven, where she didn't have to worry about anything and where she wasn't anyone's servant. Azriel remembered the tears shining in her eyes the first time he brought her there, when the house was still empty and cold.

It had taken him a long time to convince her that she didn't need to worry about money. He worked directly for the High Lord now, and he was paid well enough for her to furnish the house however she liked.

She had still tried not to spend too much, but she had chosen each piece of furniture and decoration with attentive care. It was the first time she had a place she could call her own after centuries of living, and Azriel liked what she had done with it. The place was simple yet elegant, with cream-colored walls and wooden furniture. Colorful flowers bloomed on the windowsills, and paintings hung in the hallway and the living room. She had even made sure to have a bedroom for him, so he could stay as long as he wished.

But Azriel's favorite part of Rosehall was probably the delicious smell of food wafting through the rooms. Now that she no longer had to cook for domineering males, she had rediscovered her passion for cooking. Whether it was spices, freshly baked bread, or roasted meat, the smell never failed to make his mouth water.

Yes, Azriel enjoyed his time in Rosehall and tried to visit as often as he could, but it was still his mother’s house—not his.

~~~~~~

He belonged in the Inner Circle, he guessed. Though sometimes he felt like he didn't.

Azriel cared about Amren; after all, he had known her for centuries. But it was still Amren. How many times had it been just the two of them, spending time like normal friends? Once, maybe twice, and even then, their conversations had mostly revolved around Court matters. Sometimes he wondered if they would have ever approached each other at all if it hadn't been for Rhys bringing them together.

And then there was Mor. He had spent centuries quietly loving her, longing for something he could never have. He had long since stopped believing that her concerned glances and gentle touches meant anything beyond deep affection—sisterly affection. Yet he'd held on to those feelings even when they started to fade, because he had never known anything different. It was a twisted form of both protection and punishment: if he still loved her, then he wouldn't risk his heart being broken by another rejection. Yet knowing Mor would never feel the same, that she had her own lovers and relationships, was like being stabbed in the chest. He wasn't sure when it started to hurt a little less each time he thought about it.

With that pain easing, the resentment he'd carried buried deep down for most of his life began to fade as well. He never once held it against Cassian. He knew it wasn't his fault Mor had chosen him. Who would have chosen Azriel anyway? He wished things were different, but he didn't blame either of them. It still chafed, though. It was something he couldn't shake, like a shadow lingered on the edges of his heart, and it resurfaced whenever he saw Mor and Cassian together.

And his brother… Azriel loved him deeply, and he was grateful to have him in his life. But there was no denying how different they were, and sometimes it felt as if Cassian didn't really understand him. There was a rage inside Azriel, rarely rising to the surface but it was there, born the moment he'd seen his mother's fear in the presence of his father. That rage never left. It grew until Azriel had to learn how to contain it, to live with it, for the sake of the people around him and his own.

Cassian never really understood it. Rhys did, though. Azriel knew that if he pushed, Rhysand would match him. Yet his brother still tried to thaw and tame that icy rage he had grown so accustomed to, which was probably an honorable aim—if Azriel hadn't lived with it so long that he wasn't sure who he would be without it.

He loved his family deeply, and he knew they loved him back. But they didn't always understand him, and he often felt out of place among them.

~~~~~~

Velaris was his home, and he'd do anything to protect it. He tortured and killed for that very reason many times. But at the end of the day, the City of Starlight was just that—a city. No matter how beautiful or welcoming, it was too vast a place to call home.

He had never bothered buying an apartment or a town house for himself. Maybe he should have. But the House of Wind had always been enough, with its views and endless rooms. It was practical living there—there was the training ring, the hall where Rhys held court, and the library for when he wanted some quiet.

But the House of Wind belonged to Rhys. Now that he had given it as a mating present to Nesta and Cassian, it was theirs. They assured him he could still live there, that his room would always be his, but Azriel had preferred to move out. He had no interest in living there during their mating frenzy.

The townhouse and the river house belonged, once again, to Rhys and Feyre. They never made him feel like he owed them anything for staying there—Elain lived there too, after all—but Azriel longed for a place he could call his own. Yet the idea of buying an apartment had still felt too definitive. He had tried, but none of the places he'd seen made him want to own them.

He had almost given up hope of finding a place he could call home, but then he met you. And he realized, after five hundred years, that maybe home wasn't a place at all.

“Az?”

Your voice cut through his thoughts, bringing him back to the present, to the feel of you in his arms and your big eyes staring up at him.

“Baby, are you listening to me?”

Azriel blinked, slightly shaking his head to chase away the remnants of his past. He looked down at you, and his heart fluttered at the love shining in your eyes.

“Hi,” you said with a soft smile. Your hand came up to cup his face, the touch warm and familiar. “I lost you. Where did you go?”

“Sorry,” he breathed. “I was just thinking.”

You waited patiently, giving him the freedom to continue or return to your conversion. Embarrassment flooded Azriel as he realized he couldn't remember what you were talking about.

He held you imperceptibly tighter, trying to find the right words to convey what he felt.

“I never felt like I fit in anywhere,” he said eventually. His voice was quiet even in the silence of the room, and he struggled to keep his eyes open when all he wanted to do was lean into your touch. “I've been looking for where I belong for centuries.”

It came easy to voice those thoughts to you. You never judged. You listened, and then you gave your opinion or simply shared your own thoughts. You saw all of him, and you didn't run from it. You accepted him. You loved him.

Sometimes, Azriel still wondered if it was all a dream or if you were really a part of his life.

“And have you found it?” you murmured, your thumb brushing his cheek just below his eye.

Azriel nodded. “I found it.” He took your hand, gently removing it from his face to bring it closer to his mouth. He pressed a tender kiss to your palm, his lips lingering on your skin before he repeated the gesture with your fingertips. Your smile was soft as he murmured, “I found you.”

Your eyes, which had been following the movements of his lips, shot up to meet his. Even after a year together, he was still mesmerized by how you always wore your heart on your sleeve. It was so easy to read you, and right now, blended with your unconditional love, he could see curiosity and amusement playing on your features.

“Me?” you repeated, your voice a murmur.

Azriel nodded once more, letting go of your hand only to bring his own up to your cheek. “Yes, you, my love.” He rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he breathed in your scent. “It doesn’t matter where we are. You’re where I belong. You’re my home.”

Wherever you went, he would follow. If you woke up one day and told him you wanted to move to the Spring Court, or even to Vallahan far east on the continent, he would go with you. He would go with you to the end of the world if you asked.

He could feel your heart beating faster in your chest, and a playful smile appeared on your lips as you pulled back to look into his eyes. “So… is this the right moment to tell you that I wanted to ask you to move in?”

Azriel stared at you, eyes wide, a huge grin slowly spreading across his face. His arms tightened around you, and then you squealed in surprise as his hands found your backside and he picked you up. The sound was quickly swallowed by his lips crashing against yours, and you could do nothing but kiss him back and wrap your legs around his waist, careful not to brush against his wings.

You were both breathing slightly faster when Azriel pulled back, but he didn’t let you go. If anything, he held you tighter, as if worried you might disappear.

“I’ll take it that’s a yes?” you chuckled. Your fingers brushed the hair on the back of his neck, his wings rustling quietly at the sensation.

“Yes,” he breathed. “Of course it’s a yes, love.”

He didn’t care if your apartment wasn’t suited for an Illyrian, if he had to carefully maneuver his wings to avoid knocking things over. He had already spent so much time at your place that he was used to it by now. The thought of staying there permanently—of waking up with you in his arms every morning, of coming back after a long day knowing you’d be there too—filled him with so much joy that his heart could burst.

You beamed, and all Azriel wanted to do was to spin you around and never let you go. And so, he did, because nothing was stopping him. He was going to share a home with his love, and nothing had ever made him this happy before.

As he spun you around, you threw your head back and laughed joyfully, the sound echoing off the walls. Azriel’s laughter joined yours when he stilled, and then you were kissing him again.

After more than five hundred years, he finally knew where he belonged. And it wasn’t a place.

It was with you.

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Azriel Week: @fourthwing4ever

[vrystalius]

Hello! May I request the hashira reaction to a child reader (6-7year) who's basically a yoriichi reincarnation? Like the hashira were struggling against an uppermoon, but reader interferred at a crucial moment and cut them down effortlessly with the hashira's own sword :] here comes the dilemma of how to proceed with a clearly abandoned child who's not a demon slayer yet easily managed to do what no hashira was able to do in centuries , not to mention their extremely young age. Thanks!

❕The hashira’s reaction to you as Yorichii’s reincarnation

You saving the hashira’s asses (with their own weapons!) as Yorichii’s child reincarnation.

Here’s my masterlist for the hashira.

Here’s my masterlist for the demons.

Note: Thank you for sending in a request! I hope I wrote it just the way you imagined and expected it. I think I struggled a little bit, but I you like it anyway, anon! <3 I’m thinking of making a part.2 with Giyu, Obanai, Mitsuri and Shinobu, but let’s see how this picks up first.

Pairing: Sanemi, Gyomei, Kyojuro, Tengen x gn!child!reader

💚 Sanemi Shinazugawa 💚

Sanemi was more impressed that he managed to fuck up this bad that he needed help from a frail child. He feels embarrassed. Embarrassment turn into humiliation, and that into rage. So, Sanemi did what he doest best. Yell and throw around insults.

“What the fuck were you thinking, kid? You could’ve fucking died! How can you even lift my katana?? Your arm is thinner than my damn finger!!”

But deep down, he’s kind of impressed. How did you even manage to do that? You look starved and dirty, as if homeless or neglected. Your yukata was stained and old, and seemingly the only article of clothing you have, obvious by the lack of shoes and socks. Geez, you’ll get sick like that, Sanemi thinks.

But as Sanemi inspected you further (and snatching his katana out of your hands) he noticed some kind of mark on your forehead. Is this the demon slayer mark Muichiro and Mitsuri were talking about back then? That would explain where your energy and skill to kill a former Lower Moon came from. Sanemi also saw how dirty and filthy your hair was, but he could see the deep maroon colour and the red tips peeling through. If someone were to wash your hair, it would look beautiful. Maybe Sanemi could even braid it?

But this was something to think about later. You look like you’re gonna fall over and just die of dehydration or starvation at any moment, or just freeze to death on the spot. If he wants to or not, Sanemi has to take you in for the moment. He can bring you back to the estate and hand you over to Shinobu or something later.

Sanemi would pick you up, into his arms, and wrap his cropped haori around your fragile body to warm you up a little.

“Let’s grab something for you to eat and maybe some clean clothes m’kay? I’ll bring you somewhere safe. Here, I got some ohagi. Eat up, you’ll need the strength to walk. I won’t carry your ass forever.”

🤎 Gyomei Himejima 🤎

Gyomei likes being around children. They are innocent, fragile, weak and need to be protected. They lie, too, but Gyomei doesn’t take it to heart when they do. He never did. Children are children after all.

But when he met you, right after you simply beheaded Upper Moon Five while he struggled, Gyomei knew that you are not an ordinary child. You do not need protection, you are strong enough to take care of yourself, and he can sense the powerful aura you had. He never felt this strong of an aura before, ever. It was almost overwhelming to his heightened senses.

“You seem very strong for a child. Where did you learn all this skill?”

In the ranks of the hashira, no one besides Gyomei can wield his morningstar. It’s too unique and western-style of a weapon to be used by an ordinary slayer, if you ignore the heavy weight all together. It takes a lot of training to wield something like that.

With that being said, Gyomei was surprised to say the least when he heard how you swung his weapon with ease. He felt the heat it was radiating after you beheaded the demon. What kind of breathing were you using?

“You seem tired. How about I carry you back to my estate? It’s safe , and you can rest there. On our way there, we can talk about how you got this strong. Shall I carry you on my shoulders?”

❤️‍🔥 Kyojuro Rengoku ❤️‍🔥

(Let’s just imagine he never fought Akaza during the Muegen Train Arc)

Kyojuro was walking beside what’s left of the Lower Moon’s Muegen train, checking for any more survivors and passengers. Tanjiro, Nezuko, Zenitsu and Inouske were heading into the opposite direction to check the other half of the train, while Kyojuro inspected the head of the train (in hopes of finding his katana as well, wich he somehow lost).

That’s where he found you, buried underneath the rubble and remains of the train, luckily unscathed. Kyojuro was ecstatic to have found such a frail child like you in such a terrible situation.

“I’m glad I found you in time! Are you hurt? Hungry? Thirsty?”

But as Kyojuro inspected you, he recognised the yukata you were wearing. He could’ve swore that he saw someone similar flashing before his eyes, beheading the train with some kind of fiery technique. It wasn’t flame breathing, he would’ve recognised it immediately. It was more powerful, more bright. It resembled the power of the sun.

That’s when it hit him. Yes, it was indeed you who beheaded the Lower Moon! Your small stature, your aura. Kyojuro laughed loudly when he realised. You, a child, managed to defeat a Lower Moon! With his own sword as well! Even if you did snatch his katana when you had the chance to kill said demon, he forgave you. You saved them all after all.

He made a mental note to look through all the corps’ records, including the flame hashira archives his father Shinjuro keeps back in their home. Perhaps Kyojuro can find what kind of breathing technique you were using, in case you don’t know yourself.

Kyojuro took his haori off his uniform and wrapped you in it, lifting you off the ground and holding you close to his naturally heated body. You looked surprisingly neglected and starved, as if no one took care of you back home. If you even had a home.

“You did great defeating such a powerful Lower Moon! You should be proud of yourself! How about we share some bento boxes when we head back?”

(You ended up being forced to eat multiple bento boxes because Kyojuro was worried you might starve to death on him.)

🩷 Tengen Uzui 🩷

He is incredibly embarrassed. First, Tengen didn’t notice how Daki was not the real Upper Moon right away. Second, his hand gets sliced off clean. Third, he let his nichirin-blades get snatched by a child. And fourth, that said child managed to behead Gyutaro while that blonde kid and boar boy beheaded Daki. Tengen basically didn’t even do anything! He just let himself get poisoned and lost a hand, then just laid in dirt the rest of the fight. How unflashy and boring!

But he did notice the technique you used to behead the Gyutaro. It was fiery and bright, similar to his friend’s Kyojuro’s flire breathing, just that yours is much more powerful or something. Tengen made a mental note to ask his friend about the fire breathing techniques later.

“Hey kid, lend me a hand will ya?”

What a poor choice of words. He could tell that by your unimpressed expression, but you understood what he meant by that anyway. After giving him his blades back and lifting him off the ground, you helped him walk out of the rubble that was once the entertainment district. Tengen is surprised by your strength and that you’re even able to make him walk upright, but that surprise quickly turned into curiosity.

He noticed the red, flamey mark on your forehead and your dark, maroon hair. You looked very flashy, but neglected. You’re kinda dirty, too. Tengen thinks a little bit of make-up and a nice bath can make you look all flamboyant again! Oh, and yeah, he guesses you’re pretty strong too. But that’s beside the point for now.

Then, finally, Tengen was met with the lovely view of his wives.

“Lord Tengen!! You’re okay! We were so worried!! Waaahh!!”

“Be quiet, Suma! Can’t you see Tengen needs to rest?

“Who’s this little thing here? She looks so thin.”

“My new, flashy and flamboyant apprentice, Hina!”

💠

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Thank you again for requesting, I hope I wrote about what you had in mind. I just got a request for Genya, so I’ll be working on that soon as well.

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves. <3

[neil-gaiman]

Hi mr. Gaiman, I really love your books and short stories! I just read Coraline yesterday and was wondering about it.

So, I read the book in English, which is not my native language, so it could be me misunderstanding whatever is written, but I am really curious and wanted to ask you.

So in the book, when Coraline is in the room behind the mirror she meet 3 ghosts. When Coraline asks one of them if they're a boy or a girl, the ghost answer is "when I was small I wore skirts and my hair was long and curled, but now that you ask, it does seem to me that one day they took my skirts and gave me britches and cut my hair", and the the same ghost says "I believe I was once a boy". The other two ghosts say they're girls, and later, when Coraline finds the 1st soul it's confirmed that this is in fact a boy.

What I wanted to ask is, is the ghost boy trans? I'm asking because I really don't know if I misunderstood or that this is true, and I would really appreciate a honest answer.

Also I don't know if someone already asked you about it, so I'm sorry if you've already answered this question.

Thanks anyway, for everything you've written!

It's a good question.

If you want to read it as the ghost having been trans, you certainly could.

When I wrote it, though, I was thinking of the rite of passage known as breeching. That was the custom of taking a boy around the age of 6 or 7 out of the skirts he would have worn until then, and giving him breeches, what the English might call trousers. They made an event of it. Often the boys would have their long, curly hair cut at the same time, but not always. Hair could be cut before breeching, or after.

Let's look at fashion for boys in England...

The custom lasted longer than you might imagine. This is Franklin D Roosevelt in 1884...

and an English boy in 1871...

...and breeching continued in many places until the early 20th Century.

I've read in many places that boys were dressed as girls when small to somehow protect them from the evil eye, but most of the history of fashion articles I've read maintain there wasn't boys' and girls' clothing, there was children's clothing, and it was more about the complexity of how you did up adult trousers and the ease of small kids being able to go to the toilet. I post anything to do with fashion and history on Tumblr a little nervously, knowing that there are people out there who REALLY know their stuff, and will take enormous delight in explaining this a great deal better than I can.

In the meantime, here are a few links.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Protector

Requested by @captaincvans

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, a little bit of Sam Winchester x little sister!reader

Synopsis: your big brother Dean has always been your protector

It started when you were four years old. Dean answered one of John’s phones, and was shocked to hear your tiny voice on the other end.

“Who is this? How did you get this number?”

“My mommy,” you were sobbing into the phone, and Dean’s heartbeat picked up. Had someone hurt the little girl on the other end? “My mommy said to call if-if bad things happened. She said it was my daddy’s number.”

To say Dean was shocked would be the understatement of the century, but he forced himself to remain calm, if only for the little girl who clearly needed help. John had gone out on a job, and Sam had walked to a nearby store to grab some supplies.

“Ok, well where’s your mommy?”

“The monster…he-he…” you broke down into sobs, and Dean didn’t need to hear anything else.

Dean was usually used to waiting for John’s orders before doing just about anything, but somehow now he knew just what to do. Every instinct inside him screamed to help you from the moment he heard your voice.

He didn’t know then, but that instinct would follow him for the rest of his life.

…

Dean’s relationship with you was different than his with Sam. Dean had practically raised Sam, but he literally raised you. The older the boys got, the more John left them for hunts. And there was the age difference; he was only four years older than Sam, but Dean had already grown up and started hunting by the time you came into his life. And after John died, the two of you became closer than ever, and he took on his role as caretaker even more seriously.

So, needless to say, hunting wasn’t in the cards for you. Of course Dean taught you how to defend yourself, but he knew that once you started hunting, you’d be stuck in that life forever, and that wasn’t a choice he was going to let you make as a teenager.

A part of you always wanted to fight him on it, not because you thought you’d love hunting, but because your big brothers risked their lives on an almost-daily basis, and you wanted to be there to help them. However, it didn’t take long for you to realize that being on a hunt would just put them in more danger; Dean would be so worried about you that he wouldn’t keep his head on straight. You weren’t going to be the reason he got distracted and killed on a hunt.

So you stayed behind.

But that didn’t mean that you were always safe.

…

“Crowley I swear, if you touch one hair on her head-“

“Let me guess, they’ll never find the body?”

“Oh no, they will,” Dean’s fists were clenched so hard, his palms were going numb. “They’ll find it, and they’ll keep finding it. Little bits, everywhere, maybe I’ll even drop you in a couple of different states. I’ll cut you up nice and slow, it’ll take weeks before you’re dead, and that’s if I’m feeling generous enough to let you die at all.”

“My my my, someone is very protective about his little pet. However, your mummy should’ve taught you some manners, because you see…” Dean flinched when he heard your screams over the phone. “I don’t like to be threatened, squirrel.”

“Ok, ok!” Dean relented. Your screams stopped.

“Good. Now, here’s my ultimatum,” Crowley’s voice rose in anger, “If you ever want to see this little runt again, the first thing you’re gonna do, is drop the attitude, and show some respect!” Crowley cleared his throat, and returned to his easygoing, neutral tone. “After all, I am the king of hell. And then, after that, you’re going to stop meddling in my affairs. That’s not so bad, is it?”

Dean was about to throw out a snarky response when your voice broke in.

“Don’t listen to him, Dean. He’s just a liar, he’ll betray y-“ your desperate, frightened voice cut off with a high-pitched scream, and Dean could swear he heard Crowley laughing.

“Now now, darling, that’s not very nice. Name-calling is for children. Oh that’s right,” Crowley’s laughter started up again. “You are a child.”

“Stop it!” Not seeing what was going on was driving Dean insane. He could only imagine what Crowley was doing to you. “Alright, Crowley, you get what you want. Just let her go!”

The screaming stopped again.

“Now, that’s sweet, Dean. But I’m afraid I don’t exactly trust your word. So, I’m going have to keep your little rugrat here for a little longer, just to make sure you make good on your promise. Deal?”

“No no no, Crowley you can’t just-“

“I think we’re done here.”

The click that followed might as well have been an atomic bomb.

…

“We got a location.”

Dean had never jumped up that fast in his entire life.

“Finally, let’s go.”

“Dean, hold on,” Sam placed his hand out, stopping Dean in his tracks. “We don’t know how many demons are guarding it.”

“You know what, Sam? I don’t really care. There could be a thousand demons in there for all I care. She’s in there, so I’m going.” Dean brushed past Sam, who reluctantly followed him into the Impala.

“I’m just saying, it would be nice to have a plan.”

“I have a plan.” Dean peeled out of the driveway and sped along the road.

“The plan is get her back.”

…

You heard them before you saw them. It would be impossible not to; the screaming of demons and the thud as bodies hit the floor wasn’t exactly quiet.

However, when the door burst open, it wasn’t your brothers who came in.

Crowley rushed toward you, his hand outstretched to grab you and teleport you with him. A split second before his hand reached your shoulder, the demon blade whizzed past his ear and struck his arm, throwing him off balance and onto the floor. Before he could get back up, Dean was on him, not even bothering with the knife as he pounded on Crowley’s face. Sam rushed in after him, grabbing Dean by the shoulder and pulling him off.

“That’s enough, Dean! Just use the kni-“

Before either brother could move towards the demon blade, Crowley had disappeared.

“No!” Dean slammed his fist against the wall, and was about to do it again when he heard it.

“Dean?”

Never, not even when you were little, had Dean ever heard you sound so small; so fragile. He turned, his gaze instantly softening, his fists relaxing as he rushed to your side. He quickly untied the ropes holding you to a metal chair, and as soon as you were free you collapsed into his waiting arms.

“You’re ok,” Dean’s eyes stung as he gripped you tightly to him. “You’re safe now, I’m here.”

“Is she ok?” Sam stepped up behind Dean, and Dean reluctantly pulled away to check you for injuries.

There was a gash along your cheek, and he saw several cuts on your arms and legs, but what really worried him was the blood covering the front of your shirt.

“Baby, can you…” Dean touched the pool of blood dripping down your stomach. You lifted your shirt a few inches, and he saw a deep cut running along your ribs. Blood was still gushing freely from the cut, and Dean quickly removed his top layer of flannel, pressing it against the wound.

Sam flinched when you cried out, and Dean winced.

“I know, I know it hurts honey. I need you to hold it there, though.” You took the shirt from him and he nodded, “Yeah, good, press it tight.” He glanced around one more time to be sure no demons were coming, before he scooped you into his arms. You cried out again when he jostled you, and he tried to ignore you as he turned to Sam.

“You gotta watch my back, I’ve got her, but I don’t know if there are any more demons still here.”

Sam nodded, taking the demon blade.

“Alright, I’ll drive.”

…

“Do we need to take her to a hospital?” Sam glanced to the back of the Impala, where your head was resting in Dean’s lap as he held his shirt against your cut.

“I’m ok,” your voice was quiet, almost sleepy.

“We should take her in,” Dean insisted.

“It doesn’t look like she’s lost that much blood,” Sam hesitantly argued.

“Dean, I’m ok,” you turned your gaze from your injury to your big brother. “Really, just stitch me up. I’ll be fine.”

Dean relented hesitantly, mostly because he didn’t put it past Crowley to try to alert local authorities to all the bodies he’d left in his wake saving you. The last thing you needed was to be stuck in a hospital while Sam and Dean got arrested.

“Alright, ok. But you gotta stay awake, understand?”

You were silent for a few seconds, and when your voice lifted he could hear the tears you were trying to hold back.

“He wouldn’t let me sleep.”

Dean felt the white-hot anger rising in him, but he forced it down.

“You…but you were gone for three days.”

“I know. But ev-every time I tried to sleep…” you picked at one of the cuts, and Dean got the picture. He glanced up to see Sam gripping the steering wheel with all his might, his knuckles turning snow-white.

“I’m sorry,” Dean’s soft voice was only beat by the softness in his eyes as he looked down at you. “I’m so sorry. But you gotta stay awake just a little bit longer, I’m sorry.”

You knew he wasn’t just apologizing for that.

“Dean, it’s not your fault.”

He turned to look out the window, and you knew he didn’t believe you.

“Dean,” you tried to raise your voice, but it just sent you into a fit of coughing. His head whipped back to look at you, and he squeezed his hand under your head, lifting you up a little so you could breathe.

“Honey, don’t talk, don’t talk. You’re ok, just breathe.”

“Dean,” you took a deep breath, “Dean it’s not. It’s not your fault-“

“Shh, shh,” he insisted, eyes flitting nervously over your face. “Kiddo please, don’t talk.”

“Then say it.”

Dean sighed, and you knew he wouldn’t mean it, but you wanted him to say it anyway.

“It wasn’t my fault.”

…

“I’m sorry,” Dean winced when you sucked in a breath, trying desperately to stay still as he sewed you up.

“I’m ok,” you insisted.

“Ok, I’m done,” Dean tied off the last stitch, and you hesitantly stood and headed to your bathroom to shower off the blood that was all but covering you.

Dean sat on your bed while you were gone, staring down at the blood on his hands, disgusted but somehow unable to get up to wash it off.

He stayed there until you returned, a clean shirt and your pajama pants on. You stepped up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again. You tugged on his arm without speaking, and he followed you mechanically as you pulled him into your bathroom.

You turned on the sink water and guided his hands under the flow, rubbing his hands until they were clean and your blood was running down the drain. You handed him a soft towel, and he slowly dried his hands.

The two of you stood there in silence, unsure of whether to move or not. Then suddenly, the two of you moved in sync. He opened his arms just as you moved towards him, and he wrapped you into his arms. One of his hands cradled the back of your head, while the other rested on the small of your back. You felt his chin rest on the top of your head, his arms tightening around you.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked.

You wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but you knew that you could scream it til doomsday and Dean still wouldn’t believe it. So instead you said what he needed to hear.

“I’m ok.”

…

You weren’t the only one who hadn’t been able to sleep during your captivity, and you knew it. Dean looked horrible, his eyes dark and his hair greasy and sticking out in strange angles. You didn’t think you could convince him to eat or shower, not yet at least. He hadn’t left your side in the hour since you got back, and you figured he would want to watch over you while you slept.

So, if you couldn’t make him eat, you figured you at least knew a way to make him sleep.

You let him tuck you into your bed before grabbing onto his arm as he turned to go.

“Stay with me,” you insisted. He nodded and reached to grab a chair.

“No, with me,” you lifted a corner of the blanket. Dean didn’t speak, he just climbed in next to you and let you lean against his arm.

After a few minutes, Dean’s breathing evened out and you smiled.

He was your protector, always.

But maybe there was some ways that you could save him, too.

[sansaorgana]

— KINGDOM OF DISTURB

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — Despite being locked inside his fortress, you cannot complain about being Sauron's Queen. You are surrounded by luxury and your every wish is fulfilled. After long centuries of such life, however, you grow a little bored. Mentioning it to your husband has terrible consequences.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — The title is from the song that inspired me (Kingdom of Disturb by Nostalghia) and of course you don't have to know the song to read the fic but I strongly recommend it because it fits so well with the whole theme – In fever dreams he holds me // Fever dreams destroy me // Inside his kingdom of disturb // I am the queen of his design 😌 Basically, in this fic, you are kind of living like Celebrimbor and it gets dark as well – although not that dark lmao I imagine Sauron as Annatar here but you can imagine him as whatever to be honest and the Reader had to be an Elf so she could live for a very long time, but other than that she is not described in any way!

WARNINGS — mentions of sexual activities (no actual smut), mentions of Reader wanting to have a child (spoiler alert: Sauron does not), toxic & abusive relationship with some physical violence (he pulls and drags her by her hair), manipulation, gaslighting, victim blaming

WORD COUNT — 3,450

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

KINGDOM OF DISTURB

When Sauron married you and made you his Queen, he took you to a huge and beautiful fortress in the Southlands. You had imagined being his spouse a little differently – more… actively. You had been imagining yourself healing Middle-earth alongside your husband but he kept you hidden inside your chambers instead.

He was assuring you the reason was your safety since his task was not yet done. And you believed him because you wanted to. Even the fact that the heavy doors of your chambers remained locked all the time was something done out of his love and his protectiveness. You understood. In fact, it felt good to be protected by him. To be taken care of. To be aware of the depths of his devotion to you.

And most of the days, you spent alone; awaiting his return from his journeys and battles. However, he made sure that you were never bored.

Your chambers were enormous and the most beautifully decorated in all sorts of silver, gold, gemstones and ornaments. Velvet, silk and cotton surrounded you and everything smelled of fresh flowers that were being changed everyday by your servants.

You had every book you wanted there and your ladies-in-waiting, as you liked to call them, were skilled in nearly every craft, so they could entertain you with their musical skills, new dresses made for you, drama plays performed for you to watch and clap your hands at… Anything you asked for was there – within the reach of your little finger.

And when you wanted to spend the time outside, perhaps you could not do that fully but you had a huge balcony all for you from where you could watch the vast and green land of the Southlands. The sunrays were keeping you warm and the blue skies were calming your senses as the sounds of birds, wind and playing children from afar were reaching your ears.

It was a paradise where you lived and you did not mind being trapped. Sauron was making sure of that. Your every whim was being fulfilled and whenever he was back to spend some time with you, he was the most skilled and attentive lover. After a few days or weeks spent in his embrace, you were too hazy to complain or to think of anything else except for the amount of your love towards him.

You were not sure for how many years you had been there – centuries, perhaps. Time was a blurry concept for you these days. And the most uncertain. However, throughout all those years, you had been very satisfied and content with your life as Sauron’s Queen. You had been waiting very patiently for him to finally heal Middle-earth and to prepare his realm for you to join his side fully.

Only recently, something had changed. And when Sauron had come back to you after being separated for a bit longer than usual, at first he hadn’t noticed any of that.

You had spent a whole night in each other’s embrace, your bodies tangled together as they reached a peak after peak between the gasps, moans, arched backs, curled toes and fingernails being dug into flesh. He was a Maia and he could go on for days without a break but you were not graced with such powers, therefore you required a rest. So, he granted it to you in the early morning as you both laid underneath the silky sheets.

After taking a short and regenerating nap, you yawned softly and giggled when Sauron’s hands caressed your sides. You looked deep into his eyes and placed a kiss upon his lips, caressing his cheeks. But when you opened your mouth to start the conversation you had been dying to have for a long while now, you were interrupted by one of his servants with a knock upon your doors.

“What is it?” Your husband asked, irritated, as he rolled his eyes at you playfully.

“My Lord Sauron, there is an important matter to discuss,” the raspy voice of his servant reached your ears.

You had never seen any of his servants but you could imagine they looked quite different from your gentle and beautiful ladies-in-waiting. You were not sure of their race since they had been the same since the beginning but you did not ask any questions about it since you were pleased with them either way.

“I shall return to you soon, my love,” Sauron kissed your forehead and left your bed.

He got dressed up quickly and turned around to smile at you adoringly before walking out of your chambers. A short while later, you could hear the doors being locked.

You stretched your sore limbs and stood up to dress up yourself, too. Sometimes, you liked to do it yourself instead of asking for your ladies-in-waiting. As much as you adored them, you had also quite grown used to solitude. And sometimes you preferred it this way.

After putting on a gown, you stood in front of the large mirror and caressed your curves underneath the fabric. You wondered how your body would look if it were changed by pregnancy. And when you turned to your side to put your hand on your abdomen, pretending to be carrying your husband’s child already, he walked inside this very moment, startling you.

You quickly moved your hand away but you were sure he had spotted what you were doing as he tilted his head and approached you slowly. Without a word, he stood behind you and wrapped his arms around you – the red colour of his robes looked so regal contrasting with the golden colour of yours.

“What are you doing, my love?” He whispered into your neck, placing a gentle kiss there and making you shiver.

You looked down at first and wanted to tell him that nothing, you were doing nothing. On the other hand, that was the conversation you had wanted to have with him for a long time now but each time you either were running out of courage or you were being interrupted.

So, you looked up to meet his gaze in the reflection of the mirror and you took a deep breath in.

“What if we had a child together, my love?” You asked and watched how Sauron’s facial expression changed from playful to serious… Angry, even. His jaw clenched and his eyes – usually so kind and loving towards you – filled with rage that he was trying to keep at bay but you knew him too well not to notice. “What is it?” You turned around in his arms uncomfortably as you met his gaze in reality now and not only in the reflection of the mirror.

“Are you not happy with me?” Sauron asked with all seriousness and concern.

“I am very happy, my love. That is why I want to–” you started, a little surprised by his tone.

“Why do you want to ruin what we share then?” He interrupted you, harshly and it made you shut your mouth immediately.

“I had no idea that you perceived the possibility of fatherhood this way,” you finally said in a weak whisper.

“There is no such possibility,” your husband took a step back as if he was disgusted with you at that moment and it hurt you deeply.

“Physically, it is. There have been cases of Maia and Elves having offspring together. Rare, but still…” You swallowed thickly as Sauron’s eyes filled with even more anger and the corners of his lips twitched.

“You… You have been researching that?” He asked with contempt.

“My love, I do not want to push you into anything or force anything upon you!” You quickly reached out to grab his wrists to calm him down. He allowed you to touch him but he did not touch you back in any way and his eyes did not turn softer at all. “If a child – an heir – is not what you wish, let it be then. I only want to know the reason why not,” you explained, looking for compassion. “If it is jealousy… For I am aware of the amount of your devotion towards me… Well, I can assure you that my love can be shared and perhaps I would love you even more if–”

“I am not jealous,” Sauron snorted at that and you closed your mouth, blinking your fresh tears away. “Do you have any idea how powerful I am?”

“Of course, my love,” you nodded, surprised at the question.

“And do you think I wish to share this power? This greatness?” He freed his wrists from your grasp and walked away to pace around with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Do you not wish to share it with me one day? Once Middle-earth is healed?” You asked, confused.

“It is different. Our child could be even more powerful than I am. I do not wish for heirs,” he explained, nervously, “for they could be a threat.”

“A threat?” You asked, taken aback by his words. “Your own children? A threat for you?”

“You are not happy… You are not happy here,” he kept repeating as if he was angry and worried at the same time, ignoring your questions and walking in circles like some sort of a maniac.

“My love…” You tried to catch his attention again, staring at him with your eyebrows furrowed. You had never seen him so upset and you felt guilty for causing this. He had enough worries outside this fortress and when he was with you, you wanted him to feel calm and relaxed.

“You are not happy… You are not…” He was no longer paying attention to his surroundings, spiralling down as if his world had just crumbled down.

“My love…?” You tried once again.

“Not happy, not happy, not happy, not–”

“Sauron!” You addressed him and this time your voice grew harsher out of impatience. He froze and turned around to face you, with his hands still clasped behind his back. He was visibly taken aback by the tone of your voice but you were frustrated now by the way he behaved.

And, perhaps, he should have finally heard some truths.

“I am not unhappy, my love,” your voice grew softer but it was still quite distant. “The life I have here is the most luxurious and I am being spoiled by you every day, even when you are away. I am the most grateful,” you assured him and he sighed with relief. “However,” you added and he furrowed his brows again, “I grow tired of being locked away. I wish to walk outside, I wish to meet more people than my ladies-in-waiting. I know you are not yet done healing Middle-earth but I know you do have whole realms under your rule already. Are your subjects not curious about their Queen? I would love to go outside and meet them. Even though I have here everything I could ask for, I still grow bored sometimes as I seek for some purpose or adventure. Perhaps a child is something I started to crave because of boredom,” you finished and took a deep breath in, feeling the burden you had been carrying for so long within your soul being released.

Sauron’s face was unreadable at that moment but he remained still like a statue as he kept staring at you coldly, without even blinking. You swallowed thickly and after a moment, you simply had to look down, too intimidated by his stare.

“You are… bored?” He laughed contemptuously, breaking the silence. “I have to spend long weeks away from you to heal this realm and prepare it for you, so you can rule it alongside me when everything is all ready for you and handed out to you on a silver plate – like everything else – and you complain about… boredom? I fight battles and risk my life, while remembering to spoil you every day no matter what, only for you to show such brattiness?” His voice was filled with so much disappointment that you wished to die at this very moment.

Perhaps he was right. Perhaps you were being ungrateful.

“F-forgive me,” you whimpered, still not brave enough to look up.

“Oh, it is too late, my love,” he emphasised the last two words with anger as he approached you and grabbed you by the roots of your hair, making you yelp. He had never done anything of this sort to you before and you had never expected him to. He had to be even more angered than he showed. “Do you wish to know the truth?” He whispered into your ear venomously. “You have no idea how much power and focus I have to sacrifice for you to live a life so beautiful and yet you dare to complain?” He asked and you could not understand the meaning of his words. You only kept sobbing and not even because of the physical pain he was causing you at the moment but mostly because of the way he was behaving towards you. “True, your naiveness and foolishness makes it a little easier. You do not notice my little slip-ups and oversights… But still… I’d be much more powerful if I did not have to sacrifice so much of my abilities on creating this illusion for you,” he drawled out.

“What illusion?” You asked through the tears and Sauron looked deep into your eyes, pulling your hair even harder as you whimpered. He kept staring at your face with anger and contempt, visibly overthinking something.

“Let me show you the truth, my little brat,” he smirked and the corners of his eyes twitched nervously. In that moment, you suddenly realised that the light coming through the curtains from the outside was gone.

The chambers still looked the same – full of luxurious goods and items – but they were all so… dark. And somehow dusty as if there was ash covering some of the furniture. You squinted your eyes at that, not fully understanding the meaning of any of it.

“Here,” Sauron dragged you by your hair towards the balcony doors. And when he opened them and forced you to look ahead, you gasped in terror.

The Southlands were no more. The green land full of the bird songs, blue skies and the children’s laughter was nothing but a dark land of gloom and ashes with the huge volcano breathing out smoke in the distance. The skies were orange from the clouds and fire and there were ashes dancing in the air. It was hell and you realised that this was the reality – not the beautiful and gentle things you had been seeing for the past centuries whenever you had walked out to breathe in fresh air and feel the sunshine on your skin.

“You are not healing Middle-earth,” you whispered, nearly inaudibly, feeling defeated. “You are annihilating it.”

Sauron let go of your hair finally and pushed you away while doing so.

“I am healing it. Middle-earth is too spoiled and rotten for the process to go smooth and easy. I must purge it and rebuild it and then, only then, we shall rule it together,” his voice went softer again but it was still filled with a scary hint of darkness.

When you looked up at him, he was smiling at you lovingly again as if he hadn’t just caused you any pain. And you realised that from now on, you would always hear that scary hint of darkness in his voice no matter what. Because it had most likely always been there.

You remained speechless, staring at him with your wet eyes and silent tears streaming down your cheeks. He reached his fingers out to wipe them out of your face.

“Now you see it… I was trying to protect you from the whole process… From the truth of it… For I knew you would not understand my vision. And you shall stay here until my task is complete, my Queen,” he assured you sweetly.

“I do not want to…” You confessed.

For the first time in your life, you truly did not. Even though it was impossible to stop loving someone in a brief moment – no matter how much pain they had caused you and how evil they had turned out to be. You had been loving him for too many centuries to stop now. But it did not change the fact you simply did not want to be by his side anymore. 

You expected Sauron to get angry again but he did not. He cupped both of your cheeks now and leaned in as he kept staring at you with a mix of affection and pity. He knew very well that what you wanted mattered no more.

“But you must, my love, for I shall never let you go,” he whispered, pecking your lips delicately and tasting your salty tears. “However, now that you know the truth, I do not see the point of my further illusions. Your curiosity and brattiness have robbed you of this privilege,” he pointed out and caressed your hair. “Come back inside, my darling,” he dropped his hands to your arms and led you back into your chambers.

He let go of you to close the balcony doors behind you two and you froze at the sight of a few shadow-like creatures floating above the dusty floor of your bedroom. Their shapes were humanoid enough to be unsettling but there was nothing pure about them and their eyes were red as they burned with fire.

“Wh-what are those?” You asked.

“Those are your ladies-in-waiting,” Sauron answered, trying to make his voice sound sweet although you were aware that calling them by the name you had given them was nothing but mockery.

“I do not think I want their service anymore,” you swallowed thickly. If his illusions were to be truly gone, you would rather live alone there instead of having such creatures following you around.

Even though they had already been doing that for centuries now…

Sauron chuckled to himself and nodded at the shadows. They disappeared immediately after and you sighed with relief.

“Do you still wish for a child, my love?” Sauron asked you and put his arm around you before leaning in to kiss your temple. “Because I think that, after all, I could give you one to make you less lonely,” he teased, cruelly.

“I would never curse my child to share their eternity with me in this prison,” you looked up as you answered, feeling the lump forming in the back of your throat.

“Whatever you wish, my Queen,” Sauron smirked and gently pressed your face to his chest as he caressed the back of your head. “I am sorry for causing you pain. I truly am,” his voice broke a little and you wanted to believe him because what else could you do?

Believing him would make this whole thing a little bit easier.

“I know,” you whispered, feeling utterly defeated.

“Do not anger me like this again,” he whispered and even though his voice was full of guilt, there was a threat in it, too. “I do not want to cause you pain. You mean the world to me,” he explained and you realised that perhaps he was believing his own self while saying these things, too.

After a while like this; being forced to hug him but with your eyes kept open, he took a step back from you and lifted your chin up gently.

“I must leave now again, forgive me. I have received worrying news this morning from my servant,” he explained. “I shall be back soon. Keep your bed ready for me, my Queen,” he teased playfully as he usually would but this time it did nothing to you except for making your stomach twist.

He leaned in to place a kiss upon your forehead and turned around to leave. You watched him walk away and heard the lock turn. You were left alone in the darkness of this room, which was covered in the ashes getting inside through the windows. You were lonely and broken – with the sound of the volcano and burning fire accompanying you from afar.

You sat down on the floor and brought your knees all the way up to rest your chin upon them as you wrapped your arms around your legs. Curled up this way, you began rocking yourself slowly to calm down and to seek for comfort in your own embrace.

This was how your life would look like from now on. But it was better than living inside a lie.

Was it?

MASTERLIST

[anghraine]

what happens to charlotte lucas if mr. collins dies early (before he inherits longbourne)?

That is the worst possible scenario for her, basically.

Mr Collins's living with regard to Hunsford only lasts for the duration of his life, so she gets nothing from it. Unless her child (she's implied to be pregnant at the end of P&P) is a son and, iirc, falls within a set number of generations as laid out by the original entailment, she also gets nothing with regard to Longbourn (and if the child is a girl, she now has another dependent to worry about and provide for; I think Mr Bennet's daughters would receive preference over Charlotte's if Mr Collins never inherits and there's no son).

There would have been legal documents accompanying their betrothal that laid out exactly how much property or money Charlotte and her potential children would receive during and after the marriage (this is what is meant by references to pin money and jointure; pin money is what the woman will regularly receive for her private expenses during the marriage, and jointure is what she gets if she survives her husband). There's a straightforward example of this with Mr and Mrs Bennet, for instance.

Mrs Bennet brought a dowry of four thousand pounds to the marriage. Mr Bennet or his family settled an additional one thousand pounds on her at the time (23 years earlier). So there's five thousand pounds attached to Mrs Bennet and her children specifically that is essentially secure—the income from it can only go to her or her children. Since her children are all daughters, however, this pretty much automatically includes her daughters' husbands as well, since women were legally and financially subsumed into their husbands' identities upon marriage and it took some legal shenanigans to protect their resources. Lydia's share of Mrs Bennet's fortune, one thousand pounds, effectively goes to Wickham as part of the marriage arrangements, and it's not clear if Lydia's money is legally secured to her in the same way since it was part of bribing Wickham to marry her at all.

(Tangent: a lot of analysis tends to assume that income from a lump sum of this kind would generate an income of 5% of the principal via low-risk, low-reward government investments. Mr Collins himself explicitly estimates that Elizabeth's portion of Mrs Bennet's settlement would generate an income at a 4% rate, leaving her with a mere 40 pounds a-year. This might seem Mr Collins-style negging, but in reality these kinds of safe government investments could and did drop to rates closer to 3% due to various economic upheavals at the time.)

Returning to Charlotte's situation, eighteenth-century advice urged men (even much less affluent men) to set aside a significant portion of their incomes every year to add to what was settled on their wives/children, so that if they died, their children and widows would have more to live on. The original settlement, as in Mrs Bennet's case, could be pretty small, especially for multiple people to live on. Mr Collins is enough of a rules guy that he might set aside the suggested percentages of his income, especially if Lady Catherine considers it proper. But even if we assume he's setting aside, say, 20% of his income, I doubt that would amount to very much if he dies soon; the Hunsford living is good, but not that good, and he's only 25, so there just hasn't been much time. Charlotte would essentially be a poor cousin by marriage of the Bennets and dependent on her own family (already in straitened circumstances) for anything more than her settlement, which given the circumstances wouldn't amount to much.

People often kill Mr Collins young to given Charlotte a chance at a better life, but in reality, this would likely be a disaster for her.

[lint-beetle4]

Hiii! Love your blog dude! I got a question! Or a request?? How would wukong and redson feel about thier past lover was reincarnated? How would they react?

The Cycle Continues (Wukong and Red Son x Reincarnated!Reader) Headcanons

Wukong:

Wukong is old, you don't need to remind him

He's seen his friend die, come back, and he's been tired of seeing random faces become more familiar as the cycle repeats and repeats

When he meets you, he found you to be charming and fairly cute

He fell for you hard, to say the least, and just like most deaths, yours was hard on him

He didn't expect to see your face again for another few thousand years, but no, in just centuries (a snap to the old monkey), there you were, in a new yet familiar face

Wukong nearly leapt at you with excitement, but he knew better

His old friends didn't remember him, he didn't expect you to as well

If you did? That's another story all together

If you remembered Wukong and called his name, oh, he'd be in love all over again

He'd ask about your new life and the people you've grown with

He'd also ask if he could be a part of yours again

If you don't remember, the sting burns a little, but he understands

He'll try to approach you, maybe chicken out, but he'll eventually say hi again, happy to hear your voice and the journeys you must've been on

Red Son:

When you met Red Son, he was a young adult in his demon years, fresh and full of anger towards a certain monkey

The Demon Bull Clan even without its king was strong and mighty, and Red Son made sure his subjects were obedient and loyal

You happened to be one of them, but unlike most, you and Red Son were close.

In secret, you two had been dating (it wasn't really a secret, but Iron Fan knew the important of letting your children be independent and allowing them to you when they needed), and both of you were quite passionate

Red Son depended on you when he would often feel inadequate for not being able to free his father quickly, and you were able to count on him to protect you when rival clans got too close

Your death was a dark stain in Red Son's past, like a glimmer that could never be captured again

As much as Iron Fan could provide her support, the mourning process still ate away at the flame prince

Centuries later, Red Son's father had returned, and a missing piece of him returned, but you were still gone

Of course, chance had it that he found you while shopping for ingredients

Unlike Wukong, Red Son wasn't old enough nor wise enough to notice how mortals reincarnated, so when he saw you, he was asking questions left and right

Those questions would only increase if you remembered him

If not, Red Son would be quite flustered at his behavior and apologize greatly before going to his parents for advice

In either scenario, you can count on him returning to you and quickly asking you on a date to get to know your new life better

There's a lot of missing time between the two of you, and Red Son is quite eager to make up for it

[bones4thecats]

➸ Nobody vs. the G.O.G.; Poseidon × S/O

Characters: Poseidon A/N: This is kind of a re-write of my old piece of the Reader being Odysseus' ancestor. I remembered that I wrote it a while ago, and in honor of the next saga of the Epic musical, I decided to redo it for fun! Anyways, have fun reading! ➥ Summary: What happens when two long-time rivals end up meeting again due to one similar relationship? Something entertaining for poor you, that's for sure.

DISCLAIMER: THIS CONTAINS QUITE A BIT OF VIOLENCE AT THE START. READER'S DISCRETION ADVISED THERE.

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Poseidon ══════════════════════════════╝

🔱 It was years, centuries ago, that a human and goddess had a child. An accident was what the Gods called it as they reassured the female, whom had left the baby with its father

🔱 The Goddess had to observe her child's life, aging underneath the tyrannical hand of the man who made up half of them. She sobbed nearly every night in the arms of her fellow Gods, and they had to reassure every night that it had to be this way. As a human could never live among the Gods

🔱 While the child's mother watched, they grew, married, had children, and that happened multiple times before she began to leave the next generations to themselves. The Goddess did come back. And her current descendant, Laertes, smiled as his newborn son was handed to him

🔱 Unbeknownst to them, the baby's ancestor would check on him almost daily, floating above him on a cloud. She held her hand out to the young Odysseus and he giggled as he grabbed her finger, a steam-like print being engraved into her skin

🔱 She smiled and sung to him the song that her father would sing to her whenever she was homesick. Memories flashed of the giant male hugging her and humming while her mother just coughed sickly and laid on his shoulder. Perhaps this song could make better memories with this young man?

🔱 Odysseus aged tremendously in the Goddess' eyes. He had the most beautiful dark hair she saw, and his eyes always made her proud to see the glimmer of life in them. Especially when he met his wife and they had his son

🔱 As he sailed off to fight against Troy, his ancestor stayed around his family. She transformed into a beautiful phoenix, with her wings and body being whiter than the clouds and the fire affect resembling the fluffy-structures in the sky

🔱 The bird would fly by every day, making sure the mother and son were safe from the suitors. One day, she went to far in protecting them to lure one out of the castle, grab him by the neck, and tell him to warn his fellow suitors that;

"If thou dare lay one hand on Penelope or Telemachus, I shall lay waste thee and thy fellow suitors. Now leave. Say to the others of this warning."

"Yes, Goddess of the Ocean's Storms and wife of Poseidon, God of the Sea. This warning shall be told to mine fellow suitors. I just pray to be spared from thy rage." He replied, a pathetic tone coming out and not the overconfident one from before.

"Go. Thou hast received the mercy of a goddess. 'I return, I expect a sacrifice of four suitors by the end of this week. Understood, mortal?"

"Merely, goddess of the ocean's storms. Thou hast mine word to mere thy crave 'i exchange."

🔱 The suitor ran off in fear. But, despite the warning from him, the men just laughed, calling him crazy for swearing that a Goddess such as that to visit him for such a petty reason

🔱 The next day, he was found with a trident stabbed through his chest.

🔱 It was months that the woman watched, not intervening, despite the wish to do so. She had been held back by her close friend, Aphrodite. Much to her despair. She wanted those suitors to be torn piece by piece until the other way to recognize them was from their torn-out eyeballs

🔱 A smile crossed the Goddess' face as she watched Athena protest against her father, Zeus. Her words made sense. After all, she did know this boy the best out of them all. Well, other than you that is

══✿══╡

🔱 You smiled as you intertwined your arm with Poseidon's. You both were your way to visit a certain young man who had delivered a letter to your doorstep. It was the young Telemachus of Ithaca, the son of former King and Queen Odysseus and Penelope

🔱 Poseidon's blank stare remained as you pet the head of a cute dog, his long snout's darker tone contrasting with the pink-colored tongue he used to lick you

"What a sweetheart, right, Poseidon?"

🔱 He looked away before nodding. It was hardly noticeable to most, but after living with him for a few centuries, you get used to his small signs

🔱 You stood as you heard your name get called. The smile on your face grew largely as you saw the young man come running out, his arms wide for you to hug him. He wrapped them around your shoulders and you laughed at the actions

"Telemachus. You act as if you haven't aged since you were a young 20-year-old! It's impressive you're over 100 now!" You joked.

🔱 Telemachus smiled and laughed. He then looked behind you and saw Poseidon, his eyes slightly widening as he caught sight of the God. The same God his father told him so many scary stories about ever since he returned home

"L-Lord Poseidon." He said.

🔱 Poseidon let out a breath as you rolled your eyes and asked Telemachus where his parents were. He looked back at you and nervously chuckled before motioning for you both to follow him inside of his home

"Mom's most likely observing some of the birds in the garden. My dad's probably training his men in the fields. You know him..."

"Do I ever."

🔱 Telemachus and you two stopped in a living room. It had many piece of furniture that was a mixture of Ancient Greek and modern-times. He told you guys you could sit down as he gathered his parents to see you both

🔱 You smiled and looked at Poseidon. He just stared off at the nearby ocean, probably thinking out everything he had to finish once you two returned home. Before he or you knew it, Telemachus came back in with his mother being dragged by her arm, a laugh coming from her as it happened

"Penelope. It's so lovely to see you again!" You said, embracing the woman like how you did her son.

"The same goes for me. You haven't aged a year! You must teach me your secrets." She joked.

"Penelope, what's going on?" A new voice said.

🔱 Looking up, you saw another male walk into the room. He had long, near-black hair, and a lightly-grown beard. Your eyes lit up when they met his, memories flashing in your head as you practically ran up to hug the man

🔱 Poseidon glanced up and stood up firmly, slamming his trident into the ground as he remembered the guy. This was the one man he hated more than anyone

"Odysseus of Ithaca."

🔱 Odysseus slightly jumped and looked up from your shoulder. Seeing the God of the Seas there, he pulled your behind him, unsheathing his sword to keep his family safe from the heartless man

"Poseidon. What are you doing here? We settled our issues years ago."

"No! No! No, Odysseus, I brought him here to meet you guys. Wait. How do you two know each other?"

"It's a long story..." Odysseus mumbled.

"One that I would be lucky to be recanted on." You said sternly.

"Well..."

"Polyphemus. He went blind because of this mortal."

"Huh? I thought- you stabbed him?!"

"Uh..."

"Okay, let's start from the top."

══✿══╡

🔱 You looked down at the ground with a facial expression that made Odysseus and Poseidon look away slightly. You weren't glaring, but you weren't even close to smiling either

"Let me make sure this is all clear. Odysseus, you fought in Troy, left, got stuck at an island trying to find food. Then you tried eating Polyphemus' sheep, and after he killed multiple of your men, you blinded him. Then you opened a bag from Aeolus after Poseidon came around, started and storm and fled, got stuck with Circe, went to the Underworld, dealt with sirens, Scylla, and Zeus. And then you had to deal with Calypso, and eventually had to deal with Poseidon once again."

"Yeah..."

"And Poseidon. You heard Polyphemus' cries for you, came and found out everything. And, using the information and name that Odysseus' blurted out in a ego-boosted stupor, found him, and drowned most of his men. You then proceeded to threaten Penelope, Telemachus, and the entirety of Ithaca with drowning?"

🔱 Poseidon nodded in a reply as you sighed and rubbed your temples

"Well... this has become much more of a difficult meeting than I hoped it would've been."

"You're telling me..." Telemachus said.

[xinmin-exe]

Attack On Titan characters as Parents

Note: I haven't really watched attack on titan in years, so I'm sure all of these characters are gonna be OOC ALSO i am making it so everyone survived in the end and they all got their happy ending because these babies deserve it

WARNINGS: fem!reader, brief mentions of past trauma, mentions of miscarriage, very brief mention of the birthing process,

Eren

Eren was so traumatized after what his father did, he almost had a break down when you told him you were pregnant. It took him a couple weeks, and many, many late night talks with Armin until he was willing to try to be there for you. Eren was so nervous and worried he was going to be just like his father but the moment he saw his kid, everything just clicked. He was so gentle with them and always made time to talk and play with them during the day. As they got older, their bond grew even closer as Daddy and Aunt Mikasa took them out hunting every couple of weeks. Eren is an amazing father who despite everything he went through, made damn sure to do better for his child.

Armin

Armin never imagined having children, it just wasn't something he saw in his future. that was, until you came into his life and changed everything. When your little bundle of joy was born, Armin was in tears. He couldn't help but admire them and want to give them everything. Since then, Armin has done everything to nurture their ideas and passions. He even took them to the sea and let them play around. He wanted them to grow up with everything he couldn't have (aka, parents) so he did everything he could to stick around. Armin turned down multiple high government positions just to stay close to you and his child. Armin is the parent we all need in our lives.

Mikasa

When you approached Mikasa with the idea of wanting to adopt, she was speechless. Ever since her parents were killed, she never thought about having children. However, she loved you so much that she wanted to at least try. After all, she wasn't exactly motherly (at least that's what she will tell people) When Hange introduced you two to a young child (maybe 5 or 6) from the underground Mikasa's heart melted. She saw herself in this child so much that her protective instincts kicked in. She was so protective of this child, no one, and i mean no one besides you could be left alone with them. Even if it was armin or Eren, Mikasa was always in the room, one second away from glaring the other person into the next century. Mikasa really warmed up to the idea of being a parent and fit into the role well.

Jean

Jean was the one of the only in the group who wanted to still have kids. He knew what he wanted from life and was damned if some suicidal maniac was going to stop him. So when you were giving birth, Jean made sure he was right next to you, holding your hand and encouraging you the entire time. Even though you did scream at him "this is your fault! If i live through this i am going to KILL you Kirstein!" (the nurses thought that it was funny) But once your child was here, nothing else mattered. Once you were able to leave the hospital and go home, all Jean did was take your kid around and show off. Constantly saying "look at what i did" or "aren't they just gorgeous like their mom?" He always had something to brag about (even if the thing wasn't brag worthy), to Jean, anything your child did was amazing. Jean is very much the parent to scream at the back of the room while their kid is performing and embarrass the shit out of them.

Connie

Connie hadn't given having kids much thought. Afterall, he didn't even know if he'd be surviving long enough to be given that option. But once you told him you were pregnant, he was over the moon! Connie didn't let you move a muscle, ever. You need something from the top shelf? He's getting the stepstool. You want some food? He's already getting the ingredients out. And when you went into labor, he was right by your side. He let you squeeze his hand as hard as you needed to, and he made sure you were given everything possible to make birth as comfortable as it could be. Connie was so overwhelmed with love once he laid eyes on your child, the only time he let you hold them was when they needed to be fed. Connie got up to soothe them during the night, claiming it was the least he could do since you went though the pain of giving birth. Connie was there at every single milestone for their life, and he was never, ever going to stop being there for them; or for you.

Sasha

Oh boy, Sasha is the cool mom. When you two first adopted your child, she was admittedly a little awkward around them. But, after many late night snacks and a few bad cooking experiences, Sasha blossomed into a wonderful mom. She made sure they were eating properly and always had snacks on her. Your kids friends know that they will eat good when Sasha is around, and you two have become THE family. Sasha does tend to spoil them and say "yes" practically every time they ask for something, but they never try to manipulate that. You and Sasha both make sure your kid is kind and humble and thoughtful. With Sasha at your side, nothing is impossible and raising a child together was the best decision you two ever made.

Levi

Levi initially turned down the idea of having kids. Claiming that he was not fit to be a father, but fate wasn't having it. When you found out you were pregnant, you were worried to tell Levi. You knew he didn't want kids and you had grown to be content with that. What would he say when he found out? Would he leave you? Those thoughts sent you spiraling when Hange eventually let the cat out of the bag. Levi was silent but you could see in his eyes that was he happy. Even though he didn't want kids, he knew he wanted you. If that meant having to raise another brat then so be it. At first, he did the basics, changed their diapers, fed them, etc. But he never truly bonded with them until they were older and confided to Levi that they felt like an outsider looking in. He listened and did his best to offer advice and words of wisdom that might help. From then on, Levi was so much more involved and made sure that they were getting the life they deserved.

Erwin

Erwin was possibly the most excited to be a father. After everything, when things began settling down he approached you with the idea of trying for kids. At first you were the hesitating one, but Erwin was able to convince you to at least think about it. After a while, you were on board and baby, he got to work. It was along road, you had a miscarriage and that was demoralizing. Erwin made sure to support you the entire time. He understood that you may not want to try again and he was okay with that. It took you a year or so after for you to want to try again. But eventually, with enough effort and support, you gave birth to a beautiful baby. Erwin was in love with your child the moment he laid eyes on them. He spoiled them as much as he could, whenever he could. He was a dotting husband, and even more dotting father.

Hange

Oh boy, Hange is.. enthusiastic to say the least. They see it as a new experiment, at first. Hange takes your pulse every day, they measure how much you eat as well as your weight. When you gave birth, they were overwhelmed. There was a beautiful little bundle wrapped up in your arms and all Hange wanted was to hold them. Hange was so careful that you almost had to do a double-take. They held your child so gently, like glass. From then on, it was like the whole world vanished for them. They prioritized being there and being a parent over anything. Hange recorded all the milestones (first steps, first word, first tooth, etc) but they also recorded every other moment (like when they babbled for the first time, or when they first rolled over). But to Hange, they were all important moments.

[idanit]

ok now i need to know about your niche country-specific jeeves AU

"Every valet takes great pride / in cooking what his husband likes" an edit of a makatka by @maidblues

(You've probably forgotten about sending this ask. I almost forgot I had a reply sitting in my drafts.)

This is incredibly niche and very hard to do for numerous reasons, but I've been thinking about a Polish Jeeves AU for a good while now. I'm not the best person to come up with the best way to cut almost all politics out from a story set in the 1920s in a country that has just become sovereign and is about to go through some further enormous transformations, so I'm not going to try very hard. Wodehouse's stories already take place in an idyllic sort of fantasy on the theme of interwar and postwar Britain, so I suppose a Polish AU would have to just lean into that even harder.

(Polish aristocracts lost their legal protections in 1921, but let's not think about it too much. Don't think about how you could possibly make "Comrade Bingo" work in a post-1920 Poland either. Etc., etc.)

So we've established that this would have to be some sort of barely recognisable fairytale Poland. But something in me is compelled by the idea of trying this out anyway because there are not a lot of wodehousian stories in Polish literature of the time. Not a lot of comedy without other genres mixed in in general. And one does wonder what it would look like.

Names are tricky. I want Bertram to be Bartłomiej or Bartosz (Bartek in the diminutive). @maidblues likes to give him the surname of Kogucik (rooster) and I toyed with the idea of giving him the Kur (another word for rooster) crest.

As for Jeeves's name, his case is more complicated because as far as I know servants in Poland were usually called by their masters by their first name, and the most common servant (as well as Polish in general) name would probably be Jan. So I'm tempted to make Reginald Jeeves a Jan Regulski or a Jan Reguła (reguła means "a rule").

This choice has the advantage of turning the "Jeeves?" / "Yes, sir?" exchange into "Janie?" / "Tak, jaśnie panie?". It rhymes. I find this amusing.

Servants at the time were overwhelmingly female, especially those who worked alone and for a single person/household, but we're going to ignore that.

Bertie is an aristocrat living in Warsaw, since it's the capital city, but his family is from some Mazovian dworek (manor house).

Aristocracy was not quite as much of an exclusive club as it was in Britain (some historians say it made up 10% of Polish society). Bertie probably says his ancestors fought at Grunwald, but he would likely bring up the Romanticism and the XVII century a lot as well, because they were as alive in the Polish public consciousness of the time as Middle Ages were in the mind of a certain kind of Englishman. Bertie could lean into something commonly called "the pride of the Sarmatians" (duma sarmacka).

Bertie's school is important. Everything depends on this, I think — Bertie's language, his friends, his club. Wealthy aristocrats did send their children abroad sometimes, so he could even have a typical British public school education even if he'd be unlikely to attend Eton and Oxford, specifically, but this feels like a cop-out, so I'm going to assume he was a student at some Polish university and not think about it too much lest I get caught up in the timelines of what university in what partition of Poland it would make sense for him to attend.

Bertie's way of speaking. My heart wants to make Bertie use some elements from the Warsaw subdialect because it's very fun and it would fit him, but regrettably, I think it's too working-class for him. I am fascinated by the idea of Bertie borrowing words from German and Russian in addition to French, though. He'd probably make use of some form of gwara uczniowska (student slang), too.

And Jeeves could know the Warsaw subdialect well, even if he would probably not use it while speaking to the members of the aristocracy (I'm pretty sure an early version of canon Jeeves spoke with a subtle Cockney accent, calling Bertie "guv’nor"). I wanted to make him a Warsaw local, perhaps with some family in the countryside, perhaps in the former Prussian partition, since I think the level of literacy was higher there and I need a way for Jeeves to have a chance of getting some education.

The Drones. There were no gentlemen's clubs, so I think the Drones would have to be a coffeehouse, a restaurant, or a szynk / pub called "Truteń"/"U Trutnia"/"Pod Trutniem". It's a significant change because they were not exclusive places, but it's the best I can think of. Coffeehouses in particular had a rich tradition as cultural places where people spent hours and hours on discussions. I think a Polish equivalent of a Drones Club could even serve as a tongue-in-cheek satire on artistic groups like Skamandryci. The Polish Drones would just have to take their gambling elsewhere. (@maidblues came up with another name for a Drones-like place that served food: Darmozjad. I love the pun — the word means someone useless, lit. someone who eats for free.)

As for the Junior Ganymede (Ganimedes), I think it would be a stowarzyszenie (club/society) without its own venue. Its members would probably meet at regular conventions. Here, I see an opportunity of some comedic nods to the tradition of "zjazdy", which in the centuries past were politically significant meetings of the aristocracy.

Bertie sings Mieczysław Fogg's songs.

Jeeves knows quotes from Mickiewicz and Słowacki (Polish Romantic poets) by heart.

Bertie is bi/multillingual enough to run off to Paris instead of New York City every now and then. Not quite putting an ocean between you and your aunt, but far enough for Ciotka Agata not to follow him.

I'm unlikely to ever finish writing anything for Jeeves in Polish, so, to finish things off, have this contextless excerpt from some draft of mine:

Mam na myśli tyle tylko, że podczas półtygodniowego pobytu, w którym jaśnie panowi udało się wpaść do sadzawki, zaręczyć, zostać pogryzionym, rozsierdzić Spodkowskiego i obrazić trzy stateczne matrony, choć nie dokładnie w tej kolejności, Jan ocalił mój ulubiony garnitur (bez krawata), zgrabnie mnie odręczył, opatrzył i odwiózł do Warszawy, a skroni jego nie zrosiła nawet mgiełka potu. Wspaniały człowiek. Obsypałem go, rzecz jasna, pewną ilością marek, ale wydawało mi się to zgoła niewystarczające. Dusza moja ��piewała, wolna jak ptak bez obrączki, a mój wybawca miał z tego tylko trochę świstków papieru, które i tak natychmiast wyśle rodzinie spoza stolicy — znałem go doskonale.

[partially-controlled-chaos]

New Life Shall Prosper, ch. 1

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

Rating: T? (not really smut but there's some heavily implied further down)

Warnings: There's not full blown smut but it borders on the edge, mentions of illness and pregnancy, mostly just fluff

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: 9.2K

an: I've had "Halsin becomes a dad" brain rot going on for a week now and had to make something productive of it. Chapter 1 of a 2-3 part series, depending on how long I make the other chapters because this one ended up being much longer than I originally planned (oops). Follow up to this post.

Read on AO3 here if you prefer!

Find chapter 2 here! Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Masterlist

Soft, gentle rays from the sunlight filtering through your bedchamber window stirred you from your sleep, making you squint as you faced the rising sun. With a deep inhale and a long stretch, you basked in the warmth momentarily before rolling over, expecting to see your lover already awake. Much to your surprise, however, Halsin was sleep in a deep sleep, the occasional snore passing through his lips. It was rare for you to wake before Halsin, who was typically up before sunrise, so you happily indulged in the sight that was the peacefully sleeping druid before you. He had one arm under his head for support, still preferring to rough it as much as possible, and the other lazily thrown over his chest. Very carefully, you slid one leg over his as you partially hoisted yourself onto his chest, resting your head on his sternum to listen to the strong, steady thump of his heart as your fingers traced light patterns across his bare chest.

After the fall of the Netherbrain a few months prior, you left with Halsin to help those displaced by the battle by setting up a new settlement in what was once the shadow cursed lands. He was admittedly reluctant to bring you along when he first broke the news he would be leaving the morning after the brain had fallen, worried he was pulling you from the life you deserved after saving the entirety of Baldur’s Gate as well as the Sword Coast, but there was nothing you could have wanted more. After the excitement and fear that the mind flayer invasion had caused, you craved something more peaceful and idillic, especially by the side of the druid you had fallen in love with. It took some convincing to ease his worry, but the two of you happily left for Thaniel’s realm after saying goodbye to your fellow companions. 

The community the two of you had begun to build was thriving. Children and families that had been scattered and broken were reunited or found new families in an area you and Halsin worked every day to build and protect. Despite a century long shadow curse, the land of the area was surprisingly fertile, which allowed for nature to reclaim its hold on the land, much to Halsin’s joy. Gardens were being built, old rotting buildings were being cleared and rebuilt, and most importantly, the people there were happy. There were no harsh politics like the Emerald Grove had when you’d first met Halsin. And, despite being in charge of so many people and children, Halsin didn’t feel the looming weight of leadership like he had when he was Archdruid. Instead, he was much more relaxed and in his element. Leadership wasn’t the easiest thing in the world for him, but something about this settlement was different. And with you by his side through everything, his burdens were much lighter and he was much happier.

Typically, Halsin spent his mornings roaming the community in wild shape, checking for security purposes, but also just enjoying the earliest touches of sunlight as a bear. This morning, however, you woke well before he did, a sudden and violent wave of nausea hitting you before the sun had even crested the horizon. You’d been awake ever since, dozing in a light sleep on occasion, but the lasting twinges of nausea keeping you from fully resting. Those feelings had subsided now and you’d assumed it was just something not settling well in your stomach or perhaps a small stomach bug. As much of an annoyance as it was, you were thankful to be able to glance a peek at your sleeping druid. A decent night’s sleep was not something he got frequently when he was traveling with you, the threat of danger always present, but it always soothed your heart to see him so happy and relaxed around you.

“Halsin,” you whispered as you softly trailed a finger along his chin, “Halsin.” As much as you would have preferred to stay in bed all morning and watch your lover sleep, you knew it was in everyones best interest to wake him for the day. As always, there was much to do in your newly blossoming home and he wanted to be there for every part of it.

“The sun has risen, my love.” You continued your ministrations, tracing your fingers across his features in an attempt to gently rouse him from his slumber. The snoring had stopped, but he had not yet fully woken. Your forefinger gently traced a slow trail along his forehead and down the bridge of his nose, across his lips and back to his chin. You then traced along his eyebrows, over the scars above his eye, and down towards his cheek bones. When he still had not stirred, you placed your finger to the pointed tip of his ear, slowly dragging down along the outer shell and down his neck until you felt his skin prickle with excitement and a low rumble stir in his chest. With his eyes still closed, he brought the arm he was resting on out from under his head and ran his own fingers down your naked back until his hand slipped firmly around your waist.

“You’ll awaken the beast if you’re not careful, my heart.” He said through a smile as he pressed you more firmly to him, relishing in the softness of your skin against his. The two of you never bothered to sleep with clothing; Halsin always preferring to rest without the confines of fabric and you found it much easier to simply sleep naked than to have the druid rip your clothing from you when the mood struck late at night. 

“Is that a promise?” You asked softly while running your finger along his ear again, giggling as you felt another shiver run through his body. Knowing the high sensitivity of elven ears, you didn’t toy with his ears too often, but always enjoyed the reaction you would get from him if you managed to catch him off guard. With a low growl, he captured your lips with his, swiftly rolling until you were securely pinned underneath his large frame. 

“I could never tire of this.” He said between kisses, slowly moving his lips down from yours and onto your neck, giving the occasional nibble in the process. Your hands traveled along Halsin’s shoulders and up onto his neck before settling into his hair as he continued his way down your neck. Your eyes closed tightly and you inhaled sharply as another wave of nausea suddenly settled in your stomach, threatening to come up and into your throat. You tried your best to fight the feelings creeping up, not wanting to disturb your partners fun, but nothing was stopping the final wave from coming.

You frantically tapped Halsin’s arms to signal him to move, but had to settle for gently pushing him up and away so you could adjust your position. The druid, who had made his way to your collar bones by this point, pulled up from you, confusion crossing his face as he initially believed he had done something wrong. You managed to roll out from under his grasp in just enough time to roll your upper body off the side of the large bed you shared before emptying the remaining contents of your stomach into the pail you’d placed by the bed from your earlier bought of vomiting, just in case. You continued to heave long after anything had stopped coming to the surface, struggling to breathe as you tried to stops the spasms. Halsin’s large hand ran along your lower back as he adjusted his position to come sit beside you as you finished your heaving.

“I’m sorry,” you said after you flopped back into your space in the bed, wiping your mouth with the cloth you’d brought with you earlier, “I didn’t mean to rile you up and then ruin it.”

“Don’t apologize, my love,” he said as he pressed the back of his hand to your forehead, checking for a fever, “Are you alright? How long have you been ill?” His hand shifted to your cheeks, still checking for a fever, but satisfied when he found you to not be unusually warm.

“Earlier this morning,” you said as you closed your eyes as the final waves began to subside, “it must have been something from supper last night that didn’t sit well with me. I’m fine, truly.”

“I wish you had woken me then,” he said as he momentarily left the bed, “I would have been able to help sooner.” You heard clinking in the next room as he dug through his collection of various vials and jars of medicines and herbs he kept on hand. 

The home the two of you shared was small and cozy, with both of you preferring to spend time outdoors a vast majority of the time. Although Halsin would prefer to rough it outdoors and sleep under the stars, he was willing to compromise and bed down for the night in a small home with a large enough bed to accommodate for two. However, it wasn’t out of the ordinary to see him napping midday outside of the settlement under a shaded tree or patch of sunny grass. While Halsin would always prefer the outdoors, there was something special he treasured about sharing a large, warm bed with you at night in the privacy of a shared living space that was absolute harmony. 

“You were too peaceful, my love,” you said with a smile as you remembered the serene look on his face as he slept, “I felt bad enough waking you when I did.” Your eyes opened once again when you felt the bed beside you shift, meeting Halsin’s gaze as he opened the lid of the jar he’d brought with him. Inside the jar were small lightly colored discs of what looked like candy.

“Ginger,” he said simply as he pulled a piece from the jar and popped one in your mouth, “it should help with any lingering nausea. Although, if it persists, please tell me and I’ll see what I can brew for you.” He did you the favor of bringing candied ginger, knowing your tendencies to enjoy the sweeter things natured offered, which significantly cut down on the bite of the root without nullifying any benefits it may bring. Fairy quickly after eating the piece you’d been offered, you could feel your stomach begin to settle and return to some sense of normalcy. Your hand gently caressed his cheek as thanks and he kissed at your palm. It always surprised you that someone as large and fierce in battle that Halsin could be, he could be exceedingly gentle and soft, particularly with you. 

After offering your hand one final kiss, Halsin left the jar of sweets with you as he stood again, lazily rolling his shoulders and neck of the last remnants of sleep before preparing for the day. You admired the way his muscles flexed with his movements, the flutter in your heart briefly reminding you on the treat you’d been robbed of earlier when you promptly vomited into a bed pail. Although you were fairly certain it would be made up for two-fold that evening. Keeping your hands off each other was always a challenge, even after the first night you’d spent together all those months ago, but now that you both had settled into a new home that didn’t have danger looming on the horizon every morning, it was even harder to keep to yourselves. You both tested the limits of what your sturdy bed frame could withstand almost nightly, not including the times you’d sneak off into the woods after a long day.

“So tell me,” you said as you sat up, “what’s on your plate for today?”

“I promised the children I would show them more of the realm,” he responded as he poured himself a makeshift bath into the basin seated in the corner of the room, “there’s still much they haven’t been able to explore and now that more of the debris has been cleared, it’s high time they had the chance to see what all they have to look forward to.” Although he much preferred to bathe in a river under the caress of the sun, he was content with a sink bath given that he’d slept in later than normal. 

“Will you rest for the day, my heart? I can bring you something to eat around midday if you’d like.” Halsin asked as he began to bath himself down, glancing over his shoulder to await your answer. You smiled as the kindness behind his words settled in your mind. Your lover always made it a point to make sure you were taken care of, even if his schedule for the day was filled to the brim. His gestures and kindness directed towards you were always done selflessly and without the expectation of anything in return, although you always tried to return the favor in some way.

“You’re sweet,” you cooed as you placed another piece of ginger on your tongue to keep another bout of vomiting at bay, “but it’s not necessary. I may get a late start, but I’d like to stop by the market today. The last I checked, the stock of produce was running lower than I’d like to see for how many people we have.” You hopped from the bed and made your way to where Halsin stood, taking the wash cloth from his grasp to gently run across his face to clean any places he had missed.

“Thank you though.” You cupped his cheek when you were done, your thumb ghosting his lips. You wanted to kiss his lips as reassurance, but give you’d just lost the contents of your stomach a few minutes prior you decided against it.

“Are you certain?” He asked, clearly not thrilled with your answer. 

You hadn’t been sick in front of Halsin often, the only other notable time being after a bad run-in with a patch of bibberbangs in the Underdark, but even with the most simple of illnesses he found himself concerned for your wellbeing. You knew his concern only came from a place of genuine concern and care. He had often told you how much you meant to him and seeing you in any state of duress, whether it be from illness or threat of physical violence, set him on edge. 

“I’ll be fine. I promise.” You slid your hand down from his cheek and settled it on the center of his chest, resigning yourself to a quick kiss between his pectorals instead of his lips.

“Very well,” Halsin softly grabbed the tip of your chin with his forefinger and thumb, tilting your gaze upwards until it met his,“I won’t stop you. But please, my love, come find me if you need me. Send someone if you must.”

“You have my word. I’ll see you at supper.” He rested his forehead against your for a moment as a parting gesture before reluctantly pulling away to fulfill his duties for the day. His fingertips lingered on yours as he stepped away, as if he was afraid to let you go, until he finally let them part so he could dress for the day. You smiled to yourself, already missing the warm embrace of the druid and eagerly awaiting your reunion later that night.

Once the elf had left for the day, you groaned as you flopped back onto the bed, your eyes closing together tightly as you tried to ignore the churning of your stomach once more. Whatever had your stomaching twisting and turning on itself had certainly overstayed its welcome and you were more than ready to return to normal. Although a bit of vomiting wouldn’t stop you from performing your duties around the community, but it made it much less enjoyable. You allowed yourself one more deep breath before promptly rolling onto your side and hanging over the bed, once again heaving into the pail on the floor.

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

The air outside was pleasantly warm with a gentle breeze, a stark contrast to the gloom and chill the air presented not all that long ago. As you walked from your small home towards the communal market located in the center of the community, you couldn’t help but feel pride in knowing that the land that had been plagued with shadow for so long was not only bathed in light again, but was absolutely thriving. Although you were not one that required the praises of everyone thanking you for doing your part in curing the shadow, it did feel nice knowing you helped lift the curse. So now, instead of shadow and a place void of life, the area was blooming with nature. Flowers and various amounts of fruits and vegetables had been planted to supplement the wild varieties found closer to the forest. This in turn allowed for a sizable market to be set up for people come and go as they please.

You’d taken it upon yourself to make sure the market stayed stocked, frequently checking in to make sure there was plenty of food for the plethora of hungry mouths that had been displaced after the battle of the gate. Not only was it important to make sure there was plenty of food for everyone throughout the day, but the market was also the gathering point for the nightly supper. You’d found it much easier to feed nine wagons worth of children with one large communal dinner every night than it was to cook individual meals. You took your time strolling the market, enjoying the fresh air and the flowers littering the ground.

However, you stopped in your tracks about halfway through as a rather unpleasant aroma suddenly assaulted your senses and brought back another wave of the nausea you’d finally rid yourself of. You placed a few fingers over your nose and mouth, wanting to block as much of the smell as possible without looking like an absolute fool in front of any onlookers. The smell wasn’t exactly anything putrid or rancid, but it was foul smelling to you and threatening to make you start heaving the town square. Glancing around, you didn’t see anyone else with the same affliction as you; everyone you made eye contact with and gave a strained smile to seemed to be just fine. Not ready to let a foul smell deter you, considering you had ventured in the Baldur’s Gate sewers plenty by this point, you pressed on.

You pulled another piece of the ginger Halsin had provided to you earlier in the day from your pocket and promptly tossed it into your mouth, hoping it would be enough to hold the vomiting at arms length until you had done your duties for the day. It helped a bit, but the urge to heave was strong and pushing your will. You quickly trotted along the stalls of the market, taking a mental note of what was well stocked and what needed to be replenished. For the most part everything seemed to be fine, but you’d feel better if there were a few more vegetables in the bins. With it being midday, preparations for the nightly supper had already begun and it was within those preparations that you finally found the source of the foul smell assaulting your nose. 

Large racks of rothé ribs were searing over an open flame, sizzling deliciously as any drippings slipped from the meat and onto the hot coals. Normally your mouth would water over the smells of searing meat, something that had become a treat while you were on your travels, but this time was vastly different. The smell that radiated from the meat unsettled your stomach, making it churn and bile to rise in your throat. Again, it didn’t smell rancid or spoiled and everyone around seemed to be fine, but you were quickly losing your resolve. 

With one final glance around the market, you quickly left the area, barely rounding the corner of a nearby wall before you lost everything in the middle of a bush. You prayed to the gods that no one would come to you as you were vomiting, not wanting to answer questions about your illness or, even worse, alert Halsin to your condition. You wiped your mouth on your sleeve once you had finished and resigned yourself to returning home for the day. You were doing no one any favors if you were actively sick and you didn’t want to spread your sickness to anyone else. Surely the community would survive without your supervision for one day.

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

The small fireplace in your bedroom crackled softly and illuminated the room just enough for you to read. You’d found an unread tome leftover from your adventures and, having a lack of other reading material to choose from, you were reluctantly reading a rather boring history of some old, forgotten wizard from years past. Not your typical choice of reading material, but it would suffice until your lover returned to you. The sun had long set below the horizon, signaling to you that soon the children would soon be put to bed and the rest of the community would settle for the evening. 

By the time you’d begrudgingly read your way through the long winded life story of your wizard, you picked up on the unmistakable stride of Halsin walking through your shared home. From your small living room seated at the front of the home, you heard him call your name as if it were a question. From this, you could tell he’d been looking for you for quite some time. You called back to him, telling him you were in bed and he was welcome to come in. 

A few moments later, Halsin appeared in the threshold to your bedroom, ducking slightly to avoid hitting his head on the wooden beam at the top of the doorframe. He leaned his shoulder against the side of the doorway, a gentle smile gracing his lips as he finally set eyes on you. It was no secret that Halsin loved to admire you and you often found him drinking in your form throughout the day; always looking at you with a fond gaze and a loving smile. He stood there for a moment, eyes locked onto you as a pleasant warmth spread through his chest; a mixture of relief as well as love.

“There you are,” he said with a relieved sigh he tried to hide, “I was wondering where you’d gotten off to. I didn’t see you at supper.” Halsin knew you were fully capable of being by yourself, you did defeat a Netherbrain, after all. But, taking your sudden illness into consideration, the healer in him couldn’t help but be concerned. Not that you didn’t appreciate it, of course.

“I didn’t attend,” you said as you looked up from your book, “I wasn’t very hungry this evening so I came home.” While this wasn’t an outright lie, it wasn’t exactly the full truth. The lingering smells of meat from your earlier trip to the market was enough to dissuade you from coming to the communal dinner with the rest of the settlement. Between not wanting to make others sick in the event you were infections and also not wanting to have to endure the suddenly grotesque smell of sizzling rothé over a fire, you decided the best course of action was to simply retire early for the evening. 

You noticed Halsin’s expression change ever so slightly as his brows knitted together and the unmistakable beginning signs of concern began to wash over him. By this point, Halsin knew you well. He knew your enjoyment of joining the communal dinners with the displaced citizens of Baldur’s Gate that you now called your friends and neighbors. You were always the first to attend, making sure to speak to everyone there, and always the last to leave to help clean up any mess; a left over habit from your time at camp with your other companions. So having missed the nightly dinner simply because you weren’t hungry? He knew something was off and it was beginning to worry him. That combined with your sudden morning illness was just an added cause for concern.

“And how did our small army of children enjoy the scenery, my dear?” You asked before Halsin could continue to dwell on  you. You simply either had a bought of food poisoning or a small bug, nothing major and nothing that was worth causing your lover to fret over.

You extended one arm to him, encouraging him to join you, before shifting your legs down from their bent position and pat the top of your scarcely covered thighs with the opposite hand. Halsin indulged you with a chuckle and he joined you in bed, offering you a loving kiss to your forehead before reclining back to lay his head in your lap and stretch his legs along the width of the bed which, thankfully, was large enough to accommodate his height even from the side. 

“Oh, they barely saw any of it.” Halsin said as his head settled into your lap, “An hour into the trek everything turned into one large game of hide and seek. It took me most of the day just to find everyone, not including the walk back home. Then of course it was making sure everyone had a plate of food in their bellies and they wouldn’t let me leave without a story. Silvanus’s grace is the only thing that gave me the stamina to keep up with them all.” He offered a low grunt as the rest of his body settled into the bed. As much as he preferred to sleep outdoors, he couldn’t deny the wonderful feeling a plushly filled bed could offer tired bones at the end of a day.

“Trust me, my love, one thing you don’t lack is stamina.” You offered him a cheeky smile as you mindlessly stroked your fingers through his hair. He offered you a deep laugh, never failing to adore your praises for him.

“I already warned you once about being careful when it came to waking the beast,” he said with a wide smile as his fingers gently pinched at your sides, “I can’t be held responsible if you unleash it, my heart.”

“Fine, fine,” you giggled as you squirmed under his tickling fingers, “I suppose I can let you rest for the evening. You’ve had a long day, after all.”

“I’ve had much longer.” He said as he looked up to you before reaching up and pressing his fingers to your cheeks and forehead once again, “How are you fairing, my heart? Still ill?” Once again, he found no signs of a fever or anything abnormal and returned his hand to his chest.

“I seem to be fine for now. I haven’t really felt anything since the market this morning.” You cursed yourself as the words left your lips. You would have rather kept that little bit to yourself to avoid adding a burden to Halsin’s broad shoulders. You knew he had enough to worry about already and you didn’t want to add to that load. You remember the run down, morally defeated man you’d first met all those months ago and you didn’t want to see Halsin return to that state because you personally added to his burdens.

“What happened with the market?” Halsin sat up on his elbows, his corners of his lips downturned with concern as he locked eyes with yours. 

“Just another wave of nausea, love, nothing to worry about,” you stroked his cheek with your hand, running your fingers over his frown lines in hopes they would disappear, “I’m not sure what, exactly, but just the smell of what was being cooked had my stomach flopping around like a fish plucked from the river.” 

“Had anything spoiled? Gone bad, perhaps?” His worry had not fully gone, but was beginning to ease under your gentle touch. Instead, his worried look had shifted to one of curiosity; as if he was trying to find the answers to a riddle you had offered.

“I don’t think so.” You said with a shake of your head, “It wasn’t really a bad smell, it just…made me sick? It’s hard to explain. Nothing was wrong with it, I don’t think, but just didn’t sit well with me. Admittedly I don’t think I’ve ever had a reaction like that before, but I left fairly quickly so I can’t say for certain it wasn’t something rotten. Although I could kick myself for leaving so quickly; I wanted to pick up a basket of plums to bring home.”

“A whole basket of plums?” Halsin asked with a raised eyebrow as he settled his head back in your lap. Your eyes returned to the pages of your book despite not picking up on a single word that was laid before you.

“An entire basket,” you said with excitement, “I’ve been aching to sink my teeth into a beautifully ripe plum for a while now, almost insatiably. If I’m feeling better tomorrow I may go out and see what I can find. If my memory serves me correctly, there’s a plum tree not far from here.” You could feel your mouth watering simply from the thought of a purple plum. 

“Insatiable, you say?” He said with another chuckle. With his head still seated in your lap, he turned his head to gaze upon you, once again drinking in your features as his body finally relaxed for the evening. He took your hand that was not occupied by the book and placed it on his chest, sighing contently at the feel of your skin so close to his heart as he covered it with his own hand. 

“Oh come now,” you said peeking over the edge of the book you’d stop reading ages ago, “don’t tell me you’ve never craved something so badly it almost drove you mad.”

“You,” he almost growled as he leaned up to plant soft kisses on the underside of your jaw, “I had an ever burning desire for you when we first met that only grew stronger the more I learned about you. Not just the warmth of your skin or the taste of your lips, but you, your companionship, and your love. And, truth be told, it’s something I’ll always crave. I can never get enough of you, my heart.”

As he returned his head to your thighs, you leaned forward yourself, planting a series of lingering kisses to his lips. Your heart swelled at his words, your heart still fluttering like it did the first time Halsin offered you a compliment back in the goblin camp. Despite the lengthly time you’d spent with the druid, his praises, words of affection, and heartfelt confessions of love never ceased to have you ablaze with rapidly fluttering butterflies. Your cheeks were left with a slight blush as you finally pulled away, almost wishing you could kiss his lips for eternity.

“And how long has this insatiable craving for plums been going on, my love?” Halsin asked as he closed his eyes, sleep suddenly feeling heavy on his lids as he relaxed.

“Hmm…a few days?” You tossed your book to the side as you thought, having long lost interest, “Maybe a week if you squint.”

His eyes opened quickly, slowly looking around as he entered a deep thought. You could almost see the wheels of his mind churning as you assumed he tried to deduce the cause of your sudden illness. His eyes seemed to lighten as his answer finally clicked in his mind. A long strand of what sounded like absolute giddy giggles erupted from his lips, which were spread wide in a smile that would have threatened to crack his face. You shifted in your seat, eager to find out just what he had deduced.

“My heart,” he said after his giggling finally subsided enough for him to speak, “have you considered that, perhaps, well…no. Never mind. Forget I said anything.” His eyes closed once again and he seemed to have calm down other than the smile that was still plastered across his face.

“What?” You asked impatiently, “You can tell me.” You found yourself smiling along with him; the sight of unbridled joy on his face causing your own lips to curl into an awaiting smile.

“Oh nothing, my heart,” he once again placed your hand on his chest and cover his fingers with yours, “just the ramblings of an old man.” You huffed at his statement. You detested when he would refer to himself as old.

“You are not old,” you said firmly, “we’ve had this discussion before. Older, perhaps, but not old.”

“And I still fail to see the difference.” Halsin said as his eyes opened yet again and his gaze met yours. 

“Older implies that while you may not be the youngest elf of the bunch, but you still have plenty to look forward to. Old, on the other hand, implies that you are a hair’s breadth away from dying. And, selfish as this may be,” your voice softened as you began to lightly run your fingers through his hair again, “I’m simply not ready to see you go just yet.”

His gaze softened with your words and another gentle smile crept upon his lips. Gods, how you loved to see your lover smile when he looked upon you. He sat up fully, leaning to the side as he captured your lips in a gentle kiss. One of his large hands came up to caress your cheek, this thumb softly stroking the curve of your cheekbone in the process. You exhaled slowly as your body melted into his kiss, your eyes closing as your hand softly latched onto the collar of his shirt.

“I do not deserve you, my heart.” He said quietly after breaking the kiss. His forehead came to rest against yours, his eyes looking to yours.

“You deserve whatever you desire, my love.” You said softly as he gave you another quick kiss. His large arm snaked around your lower back and pulled you until you were pressed against him. There was no sense of urgency or lust behind his movements, just the soft and loving caress between lovers. Your face nestled in the crook of his neck as you felt his body begin to relax for a final time and enter the first realm of sleep. You sighed contently as you felt the gentle heat radiating from his body and the secure feeling of his arm wrapped around you. You found yourself drifting off to sleep as well, lulled there by the sound of Halsin’s strong heartbeat and soft snores.

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

A week had passed and you were still plagued with your mystery illness. Every morning was the same, peacefully sleeping until a wave of nausea so strong woke you from your sleep and caused you to lose everything in the pail you just permanently kept at your bedside. By this point you had considered that maybe there wasn’t anything wrong with the food you’d been eating; surely food poisoning wouldn’t have lasted this long. You’d considered that maybe there was something wrong with the local water source. After all, the lands had been cursed for so long that you would be surprised to find out if there wasn’t some sense of lasting pollution from the curse. However, you also knew very well that no one else had gotten sick and you were the lone soul that had been afflicted with bouts of nausea and vomiting. You had also toyed with the idea that this was some late settling side effect of having a mind flayer tadpole swimming in your brain for some time. The tadpoles were unique so it wouldn’t be too far fetched to find out you had a lifelong affliction because of them.

However, tonight you were awake for a different reason. Instead of debilitating nausea keeping you from a decent nights rest, it was the same gnawing craving for plums that’d been on your mind for weeks. After the incident at the market, you hadn’t returned for fear of the smells wafting around the area making you sick to your stomach again and you hadn’t had the chance to go collect any yourself. You knew that if you asked Halsin to bring you some that he would do it happily and without question, but you were aware with how busy he was and you’d decided that asking him to go fruit picking for you simply wasn’t as important. 

But the night was young and you couldn’t sleep. The sun had only set a few hours prior, leaving you ample time left in the night to scamper out to the plum tree you knew of with a basket in hand and fill it to your hearts content. You could snack on a few on your journey back home and slip back into bed without waking your slumbering lover. You rubbed the small bit of sleep from your eyes and gently lifted Halsin’s heavy arm from atop your midsection, quietly placing it on the mattress below as you crept out of bed. You threw on the first discarded shirt and pair of trousers you could find, not caring if they were wrinkled or even matched. You weren’t expecting to see anyone on this little trip of yours and wouldn’t be gone long enough to justify a well thought out outfit. 

You slipped out of your home silently, being sure to close the door with a soft click before setting off on your impromptu adventure. Although your settlement was secured and safe with no real threat of danger, you carried a small knife in your belt line, just as a precaution. You had no intent on using it, but it was a small token of safety that was left over from your tadpole days. It could also come in handy in the event a particular plum was too stubborn to be plucked from the tree. You were determined to have your fill of the ripest plums you could find and you would not be set off course because of a vine.

The walk to the plum tree was quiet and peaceful. You could hear the soft chirp of crickets in the distance and the low song of frogs floating in the air. Torches scattered around the realm illuminated your path out of the town square and into the forest, which you followed in no great hurry. You couldn’t help but observe everything you and Halsin had built together as you walked, feeling a sense of pride and tremendous joy when gazing upon your shared efforts. These lands which had once been filled with a century long curse of darkness, shadow, and decay were slowly coming to the light. You could understand why Halsin called the fall of the shadow curse the happiest and greatest moment of his life. Seeing new life sprouting from what was once dead was truly a miracle. And the chance to see Halsin so free and unburdened was certainly one of the high points of your own life.

The cool dew settling on the grass licked at your toes through your sandals as you first stepped into the forest, a set of chill bumps grazed your skin like a wave that quickly disappeared. You lazily strolled through the trees, taking your time but also trying to find the correct tree through the darkness of night. Thankfully, the moon was full and exceptionally bright, making it easier to see your surroundings. Eventually, you stumbled across a tree with low hanging branches and much to your delight, was filled with the richly colored fruit you’d been so long craving. 

You bit your lip in excitement as you approached the tree, setting your basket down at the base as you set to work. Plenty of branches were well within your reach and you could simply pluck the fruit without having to go to the effort of climbing up the tree, although if you did it wouldn’t have deterred you. This craving was something that had been gnawing away at you for weeks now and you wouldn’t be stopped for anything. The first plum snapped off easily, much to your delight. You paused momentarily to press the fruit to your nose and inhale deeply, the rush of satisfaction running through your brain causing you to smile at the deliciously ripe scent of your prize. 

Instead of eating it on the spot, you decided to toss it in your basked and continue plucking until you’d put as many as you could into your stash. You decided that you would take some of them home and then drop off the rest to the market for the rest of the community to enough, but you would be a little self indulgent and eat your fill first. You worked on picking more plums silently, enjoying the peaceful sounds of the night as you plucked, making sure to leave a few fruits scattered across the lower limbs for other creatures to nibble on. In a relatively short amount of time, you’d amassed a large basket full of deep purple plums and you were more than ready to sink your teeth into one.

You spent another moment picking the most perfect one you could find. One that was perfectly soft and plump under your fingertips. Once you’d selected your fruit of your choice, you leaned your back against the tree and slid down until you sat fully on the ground. You moaned ever so slightly as you finally bit into the fruit, juices leaking from the sides of your mouth and onto your chin as you chewed. From the droop in your eyes and the lazy smile that had crossed your face, you knew you looked like the epitome of bliss and you couldn’t agree more. The taste of the plum scratched at that itch deep in your brain and you would keep eating until it had been fully satisfied. 

“Gods above,” you said softly before taking another bite, “I needed this.” In this moment you think you finally understood what Halsin always said about the gifts of nature. The single plum you’d just inhaled was the greatest gift anyone could have given you in that moment. Or perhaps his druidic nature was just finally rubbing off on you. Either way, you were grateful for your treat. You made short work of the plum and wasted no time in biting into a second one, which tasted just as sweet and ripe as the first. Your gaze shifted across the land you’d made your way to and eventually settled on the sky, tracing the constellations as you continued eating. 

Your eyes settled on the full moon sitting high in the sky, illuminating the area with a soft glow as your brows settled into a deep frown. As beautiful as it was, you found yourself surprised to see it return to full seemingly so soon after the last. You tended to keep track of your monthly bleed cycles, wanting to make sure they came when they were supposed to in order to keep an overall idea on your general health. But, given how busy everything had been under Thaniel’s watch, it had slipped your mind. Your cycles tended to fall in line with each new moon and upon seeing the bright and shining full moon now above you, you realized that you miraculously didn’t have one this past lunar cycle.

“By the gods.” You whispered to yourself as the reality of everything happening finally made sense to you; the seemingly missing bleed cycle, morning sickness, aversion to certain smells, and the craving for plums so strong that you ventured into the woods in the middle of the night just to eat one. How you could have been so daft to not pick up on it soon was beyond you. Halsin had figured it out the first day of your sickness. You smiled and giggled to yourself at the very real possibility that you were with child.

The silence of your thoughts were quickly cut short as you heard the unmistakable grunt of a bear not too far off from where you were seated. Your survival instincts were set ablaze quickly, rising to your feet but remaining low until you could find the source of the noise. Bears weren’t all that uncommon in the area, although you’d never seen one so close to the realm with the only exception being your wild shaping lover who was usually sporting three or four children on his back. The sound was emanating from the path you had taken to the plum tree, the sounds of the animal becoming steadily closer as your heart pounded with anticipation.

Much to your relief, when the bear did present itself to you not too far from where you were, you noticed it was unmistakably Halsin in wild shape. Why he decided to wake from a deep sleep just to roam around as a bear was beyond you, but you couldn’t exactly blame him for doing so when you had left the warmth of your bed to find a plum tree. You sat back on the ground and watched your lover roam. His transformations into a bear always fascinated you and you frequently enjoyed just watching him function as a large hulking creature. It was also fascinating to you to see just how much the tendencies and habits of his bear form seeped into his normal form and vice versa. He was as much bear as he was elven and you loved both halves equally.

The bears head was pointed towards the sky and you could hear the grunts and sniffs from where you were. His nostrils flared as he inhaled the night air, having seemly picked up on a strong scent somewhere nearby. You watched as his head then bowed towards the ground, nose still twitching wildly as he picked up on the scent once again. It didn’t take long for his gaze to finally fall on you resting against the tree. You made the quick decision to move your basket of hard won plums out of the way as the bear made it a priority to gallop towards you, quickly closing the space between the two of you. By the time your plums had been securely placed to the side, you felt Halsin’s nose press firmly against your neck, inhaling in quick bursts as he made his way across your body.

His quickly working nose pressed firmly against your skin, making you shiver at the abrupt force and chill behind it. With several grunts and small growls, you felt his nose travel anywhere he could reach. Into your hair, behind your ears, along your neck, eventually ghosting over your collar bones and under your arms. You laughed at the feeling of the quick bursts of air and the fur tickling your skin, eventually having to work your hands down to grab hold of his rapidly moving snout.

“Love,” you said as you pulled his snout towards your face to keep him from traveling lower, “if you wish to communicate you’ll have to change back. I can understand you, my dear bear.” The ability to speak to animals was never something you’d found necessary, although you’ve deeply regretted that decision since choosing a partner that spent half his time as a bear.

With a brief whine of annoyance, your beloved bear backed up slightly before erupting in a ball of light, making you squint and turn your head to avoid lasting damage to your eyes. By the time they reopened, Halsin was practically on top of you. His lips crashed against yours before you had a chance to say anything, the force behind it bumping your head against the bark of the tree. You felt one of his hands caress your jaw, the other being used to hold himself up to avoid completely crushing you. His thumb quickly made its way to your lower lip, tugging downward gently so your lips could part more for him. You happily complied, moaning softly as he deepened the kiss. It wasn’t long until the hand on your jaw gently tilted your chin to the side, allowing him to descend upon your neck at a fevered pace. 

“What has gotten you so worked up?” You asked with a laugh. Your hands roamed across Halsin’s broad shoulders as he pressed against you, his lips and teeth grazing along your neck with each sloppy kiss. His hips found their way nestled between your thighs as he moved closer. The had that was supporting his frame had moved to your hip, squeezing and frantically searching for any bit of flesh he could find.

“Your scent,” he rasped, “I think I know why, but it’s changed as of late. It’s stronger. More potent. It’s…it’s intoxicating.” He switched to the other side of your neck, inhaling deeply behind your ear before painting the column of your throat with more kisses and bites. He panted through his words as shutters of excitement and arousal coursed through his veins. It was only now that you realized that the druid wasn’t wearing the first stitch of clothing. You enjoyed the thought that your lingering scent in your bed had motivated him enough to leave without even bothering to put on a pair of trousers. 

“Fertility, perhaps?” You asked as you tugged what was left of the hair tie from his hair, your fingers quickly snaking their way though.

“Or the result of that.” His eyes were half-lidded and on the verge of glowing as he took your lips in his for another kiss, “I was wondering when you’d catch on.” Your desire to reply was cut short as your own arousal began to kick in, shoving any thoughts of rational conversation to the far corners of your mind. 

“Damn clothing,” you muttered as you struggled to hoist your shirt over your head, “is always in the way.” You felt the druid laugh against the skin of your neck at your plight. Halsin had managed to tug your trousers from your hips by the time you’d finally tossed your shirt from your body, his lips still latching onto any exposed skin he could find. Your sighed in relief as he moved you to the side and your back finally left the rough bark of the tree and was happily placed on the cool grass beneath you.

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

You hummed contently as you bit into the plump flesh of another plum, snuggling against Halsin’s chest in the process. His arm was wrapped tightly against you as you both lay in grass under the plum tree, thoroughly exhausted after the events of the evening. His arm was underneath your shoulder, his hand extending towards your hip where his fingers drew lazy circles along the bone. Despite his frantic and more aggressive movements from just moments prior, his touch was soft and loving as if he was trying to undo any potential injury he inflicted in his animalistic lust. 

“Satisfied?” He asked as he bit into his own fruit, looking down at you as you gave a light hearted chuckle. You couldn’t decide if he was referring to the plums you’d finally gotten your hands on or the impromptu rutting you’d engaged in, but either way you had no complaints. 

“Very,” you said as you finished the last of your fruit and tossed the pit to the side, “although I do have a bone to pick with you.” You feigned a pout, letting him know you weren’t actually angry, especially after a well enjoyed time together. He raised his brow at you, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

“Do tell, my heart.” He finished his plum with a second bite, discarding the pit as you did before using his free arm as a makeshift pillow against the trunk of the tree.

“Why didn’t you tell me you thought I was with child? Hells, you had it figured out in no time and I only just put the pieces together this evening.” Although you weren’t actually mad, it was a genuine question that had been biting at your brain for a few days. Despite having wagons full of displaced children already under your care, you knew Halsin would love one of his own. He loved the children that found their way into your care deeply, but there was something about bringing in a new life that you knew excited him. So why not tell you the second he put everything together? 

“I wanted to be certain, my love. I didn’t want to put that idea in your head only to be wrong. I wasn’t sure of your feelings on the matter. Truth be told, I was afraid you would be opposed to the idea.” His voice was soft as he spoke, “And, quite frankly, I was afraid that if I spoke it into existence too soon it wouldn’t be true. A bit selfish, I suppose.” You cupped his cheek with your hand, pulling his face to look at you as you offered him a warm smile.

“Put those fears to rest, my love.” You said softly, leaning forward slightly to place a gentle kiss to his opposing cheek.

“You’re certain? This is something you want? With me?” There was uncertainty in his voice. Although it was rare for him to show such vulnerability, you knew that deep down Halsin had his own fears and uncertainties about himself, given how long his emotions and previously failed actions weighed on his shoulders. But you were there to lift his burdens and bring him towards a life where he could cast those doubts to the side. He had nothing to fear with you, nothing to be ashamed of. You loved him more than you could express and living a lifetime with him would bring you more joy than you had ever hope to achieve previously. Bringing a child into the world together was something that was even more thrilling and something you both had secretly wanted for some time.

“More than you can ever imagine,” you pulled his head towards you until your foreheads rested together, “and we’ll both pray to Silvanus that we’re correct in our assumptions.” You felt Halsin release a heavy, but elated, sigh as he once again pressed his lips to yours. It was a firm kiss, but any lingering lust from earlier had long gone. Instead, this was a kiss filled with love and, above all else, radiant hopefulness. 

“Shall we head back, my heart?” Halsin asked with one final kiss to your forehead.

“No,” you said softly, “let’s stay here tonight. We haven’t had a night under the stars in quite sometime.” You both lay there happily, limbs tangled together and bare skin pressed together firmly. It didn’t take long for sleep to wash over you, your cravings sated for the time being and your body thoroughly spent. You slept peacefully while in the embrace of your lover and with the thought you could be bringing a child into the world together.

Tag List: @incrediblethirst, @reignydeys @thoughts-of-bear

[meldingintheunderdark]

Halsin's ending is not a beautiful, pain free dream

I don't know if this opinion is unpopular because my return to tumblr is so recent, but hear me out. I will not speak about Tavs since I don't ever play them. My post will be solely focused on Halsin solo romanced by the Dark Urge, i.e. Sszazar who fought tooth and nail for redemption.

Rationally, I understand that some players are satisfied with his ending, yet I find it soul crushing all the same. It's the perfect example, nay, the quintessence of Halsin's problems. A messy knot of unaddressed traumas, of questionable decisions, the embodiment of his perpetual fuite en avant (rushing ahead to avoid something, to repeat actions that led to a first crisis).

His project is a clear attempt to fulfill needs forever denied: to have a family of his own, a community where he's at long last free from the shackles of leadership, or even to follow his own path as a druid, away from the suffocating traditions of the Emerald Enclave. A commendable project, but too ambitious for one man.

Indeed, Halsin's plan is his and his alone. Although he spoke of his desire to have a family or to help the unfortunate children, the PC is not directly involved in preparing the commune. They are kept in the dark until Halsin is ready to leave without them.

Halsin single-handedly shoulders the planning and the responsabilities that the future settlement entails. Needless to say, for centuries now, he has favored a paradoxical approach of avoidance and obsessive behavior combined with extreme guilt trip to deal with his own troubles, even distorting traumas to make them palatable. In my opinion, his solitary preparation is the expression of said approach.

They won. Faerûn is saved. The shadow curse is no more. It could be the ideal time to slow down, to assess the extent of damage after such a nerve-racking adventure. Yet Halsin is already rushing into another long lasting project involving countless settlers, among them nine whole wagons of children. He's restless. Instead of turning inward to acknowledge his shortcomings, to simply heal, he barrels along at full speed, continuing his never-ending cycle of avoidance. What about his failings as the archdruid of the Emerald Grove? A group of haggard tieflings and his absence were sufficient to let hate and cruelty fester amongst his druids. How did he fail to notice the rampant corruption? Were the Shadow Druids manipulating his people under his nose? Why did he welcome the refugees, exhausted and traumatized, only to abandon them because Aradin was going to the shattered sanctum?

Halsin must do everything alone. He welcomes the tieflings. He leaves with Aradin because he must deal with the shadow curse. Survivor guilt. If it's about himself, his most vulnerable side, then Halsin oft deals in absolutes.

Ironically, he cannot save Thaniel and his realm on his own. Although far-fetched, I personally interpret Halsin's personal questline as his reflection.

Halsin's questline is his reflection

He's obsessed with the shadow curse, without a true confident for a good century, and neglects his druids and the tieflings he decided to shelter. Out of the blue, he chooses mercenaries to support him in his irrepressible, compulsive endeavor. Unfortunately, wrong team, they fail. He is then caged like a rabid animal, at the mercy of goblins who don't communicate with him at all. There is nobody to listen to him, to his worries, to his needs. He's once again alone, like he had been with the drow captors.

The PC gives him his freedom back when no one else would, thus he faces his main fixation obsessively with this newfound support. And yet... Who listens to him? Who finds Art Cullagh? Who finds the lute? Who finds Oliver? Who kills Ketheric? The PC.

He goes to the Shadowfell to find Thaniel, alone, protected by his allies. He wants that light, that friendship, that support. (The portal with a warm, comforting glow attacked by shadows, the fact he can die if the portal is destroyed while he's seeking Thaniel… The portal could be a representation of Halsin, of the positive changes he yearns for, but he cannot progress as he's attacked by doubts, old pains, traumas.) He comes back with Thaniel, split in half. Thaniel and Oliver are reunited by the PC who, if the right options are selected, encourages Halsin to soothe Oliver.

During the last push to chase the shadows, if he's in the team to vanquish Ketheric, he's supported and led by the PC.

I know my interpretation is highly disputable, nevertheless, his questline is so him. That positive side, Thaniel, hollow. The darkness, Oliver, deeply lost and lonely, surrounded with shades that are his pseudo friends. Thaniel and Oliver are stronger together, however the curse is still overwhelming. The PC carries Halsin all the way till the shadow curse is lifted.

And the very last cutscene is all about Halsin and the PC watching nature blooming once again. Hope for a better, brighter future.

Halsin: I don't deserve you, my friend.

Halsin needs support. Don't get me wrong, he's a capable adult. He can take care of himself. Yet the glaive (though it was in EA) ended in a lone, secluded vault. Out of sight, out of mind. Halsin has been alone for so many years that he craves the support of his trusted equal to progress. It doesn't make him weaker or less of an adult. It's merely a lot less wearing to be helped by someone who reciprocates care happily and willingly.

The consequences for the commune and the orphans

All that scarcely credible yapping about his questline to say that Halsin tends to shoulder responsabilities alone, too many, far too many, with little to no self-empathy. That, without proper support, he tends to fail and hurt himself, to repeat situations which have already wounded him in the past (cf. my post about the drow twins). So, what does it mean for the commune?

I assume he will fail to nurture an environment without a vertical organizational structure at first. The hierarchy won't be similar to the Grove's, however he will become the de facto leader because he cannot for the life of him acknowledge his deepest, most painful shortcomings. Case in point:

Halsin: All these months, and I haven't been away from what we built together. There's a whole community out in Thaniel's realm that has never known a day without our presence. Halsin: Being away from it... I cannot help but worry how they will fare in our absence.

He will surround himself with like-minded people, nevertheless, we must not ignore the fact he's an archdruid, a 350 years old elf as he loves to repeat, and one of the saviors of Baldur's Gate. His experience, his fame and his tendency to burden himself are a recipe for disaster. Six months after the Elder Brain's defeat, the commune depends heavily on him. He fled leadership, only to become a leader again.

Halsin: At last count, there were nine whole wagons of children in tow. They are my duty now. 'Daddy Halsin', they call me. Who am I to tell them otherwise?

The Daddy Halsin has been "memed" to death. From my point of view, it's jarring. When Halsin reveals his plan, he barely mentions adults and doesn't associate them with the kids. His statement is crystal clear. The nine wagons of children are his duty. He's their caregiver, their new father figure. Not one parent, or one guardian among many, but the one they call Daddy. From his point of view, the concept of family seems to be eminently traditional.

Halsin: I just hope the children get by without me there for their bedtime stories...

Ultimately, the orphans will be neglected temporarily because Halsin cannot provide the necessary parenting, the emotional support nor the individual time any child deserves on his own. Furthermore, these children are extremely vulnerable. Abandoned, parents and siblings killed by the Absolute forces, who knows? It may last a week, but Halsin needs to realize first that he cannot be their only Daddy, otherwise he will hurt them. Not out of malice, not on purpose, just because he's deeply entrenched in his views and his longings.

The Dark Urge

Halsin is overly positive about the refugees wishing "to praise the savior of Baldur's Gate", adding that "quite a few little fans will be overjoyed to make your acquaintance". I won't ever believe that every single settler will be in awe of The Dark Urge, a war criminal, a murderer and a former Bhaalspawn. I can't imagine no one would demand revenge, swift and brutal justice, that nobody would directly conflate Sszazar and the destruction of their home, the death of their friends, their lovers, their families. That everyone will be levelheaded, willing to forgive and forget, or downright clueless about his identity. Not everybody will be magnanimous like Alfira. Would Halsin choose to lie by omission or be truthful about his lover's bloody past? A commune built on such a massive lie won't withstand the revelation of this ugly secret.

Henceforth, people who suffered because of the cult will be exposed, day after day, to the sole surviving Absolute mastermind. The cause of their plight is their next-door neighbor. At first, it will surely go beyond petty disagreements. Some may leave and never return. Halsin's reputation may be tarnished since he loves and shelters a war criminal. He sold them his dream without the Dark Urge because he was persuaded to be unworthy of commitment and love.

All in all, I don't think his dream will crash and burn, but I believe the canon scenario forces the happy ending devoid of nuances upon the player. Truth be told, I imagine the commune will go through a rough patch, especially if the Dark Urge is present. I won't even talk about the logistical side of the commune. Tending the crops, buying tools, managing resources, so many details... With luck, Thaniel is a real powerhouse and can heal his realm in the blink of an eye. I doubt it.

Halsin's ending is, as depicted in game, a beautiful nightmare.

[09/15/24 - edited for clarity, grammar and to highlight that I hc Halsin's failures as temporary]