#But because I was changing my build I couldn’t reincarnate

[lovely-hikari-cosplay]

Replaying SMT V because I couldn’t get the idea of an Ailment build being viable (if not ideal) out of my head and I was able to beat the funny lvl 99 Abscess first try???

-

Note: This is on Normal difficulty but STILL

[coralinnii]

❋ If you’re a villain, then let me be your accomplice ❋

↳Reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy part 2

feat: Rook

genre: drama, slow burn romance, smitten fools,

note: sequel to reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy Rook ver., historical fantasy setting, sculptor!reader, reader is referred to as “Ma artiste” and “Mon amour” by Rook, no pronouns used with the reader, mentions of beast hunting, 1.8k word count

While it refers to fictional beasts, this touches the controversial topic on hunting which can be sensitive to people. I’m not trying to claim that my own opinions or the opinions in this fic are right and you can have a stance against these opinions. Despite the controversy, I still decided to add this into the story because this world is supposed to mirror the era when this was practiced by people of the time and with Rook as a canonical huntsman, this fits the story well.

I choose to be transparent that this topic will be in this fic and if you are uncomfortable, you are free to ignore this story because I would rather you decide your comfort levels than have people read my story.

Random note: when my laptop died, all my banners are gone so yea…I changed my character banners again

series masterlist

To your dismay, you found yourself facing the consequences for the actions of an obsessive character that convinced the famous knight Rook Hunt to be your fiancé.

Begging the Hunt family, you managed to settle a deal to repay the dowry the Hunt family paid to annul the engagement, since losing this engagement would cost their side more than yours.

Thankfully, the era of this world was the rising age of artistic revolution and the aristocracy was itching to find the newest trend of beauty and creative innovation, which you enthusiastically took as an opportunity to build your name in the field of art as a sculptor, starting off with simple desk ornaments to breathtaking statues.

Perhaps it was your silver lining that your still fiance Rook was a well-known admirer of all things beautiful as with his keen eyes, your sculptures stood out among others due to the added details of your subjects that your fiance pointed out as you work. You were confident in your skills but you owe it to Rook for enhancing the realism in your sculptures.

Initially, guilt ate away at your conscience for not only the forceful engagement you placed upon the knight (even if you weren’t directly responsible) but for also taking his help with your commissions without any benefits to himself. But the green-eyed man did not ever allow you to dwell in such thoughts.

“Non, ma artiste! Your works of art are the fruits of your passion and hard work that cannot be replicated. I may have given some notes here and there but the beauty of each masterpiece you created can only be brought out from your skillful hands.”

Rook smiled as he held your hands, still dirtied with bits of dried clay. The gaze of his bright green makes you feel somewhat self-conscious. You were a noble but you must have ruined the softness of your skin due to your long hours of work and stress. You tried to pull your hands back in embarrassment but your fiance held them firmly in his own gloved pair.

“Every scar, blemish, and crack is a show of your strength, mon amour. I could get lost tracing the lovely lines of your hands if you allow me.”

No matter how many others have praised you or your work, you couldn’t help the unique warmth in your heart that only appears when Rook sings them. But you chalk it up to your body reacting from old feelings held by the original character. It must be, right?

Your commissions have thankfully slowed down enough to give you a well needed break. You were curious to what might taking up the attention of the nobility right now which was how you learned about the bi-annual “Hunt of the Beasts” event.

You were initially terrified to learn the existence of magical beasts in this world and the danger that resides in the dense forests and mountainous lands that borders the kingdom. In order to maintain the beast population for the safety of the people and resources, the imperial family hosts an extravagant event for the knights and local mercenaries in the kingdom to vanquish the beasts. Some may call it barbaric or cruel, but for the safety of the villages and farms that reside near these beasts’ territories, it was an unfortunate necessity that is at least maintained by the imperial family to avoid excessive hunting that disrupts the delicate balance of the population.

Rook was a frequent participant of the hunt and of course he was going to be a participant. Typically, partners of the participants would attend the event as spectators waiting by the designated zones among other visitors. However, you were too new to this world and this will be the first hunt for you where you will surely come across images you weren’t sure you were prepared for.

Giant beasts…even thinking of their corpses. It’s too overwhelming.

You expressed your discomfort with Rook and despite his experience as a seasoned participant, offered words of understanding to you. The knight suggested that you could sit out from the event and he could explain to any curious busybody that you were not feeling well.

Once again, Rook warmed your heart with his words but there was some guilt still left behind within you. Despite the loveless engagement, Rook has wholeheartedly supported you in your passion and your work despite his own inexperience in the field, but you couldn’t bring yourself to accept something that he as a knight and huntsman took pride in. You allowed your fear win over and it left a bitter feeling in your heart.

The day has finally arrived and the dense forest that bordered the kingdom was busy with attendees of all status. Many have come to join to spectate and support the brave men and women who have trained to battle the dangerous beasts that lurk within the land that was darkened by wild greenery. Aides from the imperial palace watched over the event as participants were informed of the rules of the hunts; what to expect, what to capture, and what to avoid lest they choose to face punishment.

Rook surveyed his surroundings as he finished his last preparations. He saw both familiar faces and newcomers that hope to make a name for themselves today. Tents were filled with important families and even visiting guests from nearby lands either to observe or participate themselves. But he doesn’t see a glimpse of your figure.

Not that he expected it. He respected your choice not to attend the event. It could be that he has become too desensitized by the presence of beasts and monsters due to his work that he has forgotten how frightening it could be for a civilian to witness them in person.

Maybe during his hunt, he could find some wild flowers to bring back to you when he visits you later. Would you feel better if he did? You had such a conflicted expression on your face last he saw you so maybe a bouquet of rare flowers could brighten your mood, even bring you some inspiration for your art. Would you feel grateful, perhaps even smile for him as you call his name in appreciation…

“Rook.”

Ah, he could even hear you right now.

“Rook?”

A rare occurance, Rook was actually spooked to suddenly feel your presence behind him. The blonde knight did not sense you standing there, with him…at the Hunt of the Beasts.

“Mon amour, you surprised me!” His green eyes almost couldn’t believe it. “I thought you’d chose not to attend this year.”

To be fair, you’re surprised yourself. The whole idea of this event still feels unreal to you and your fear of witnessing something you’re not mentally ready for is still there. Even so…

“I want to support you, like you always have with me” you whispered shyly but Rook could clearly hear your voice at this distance. He then saw in your hands a small woven charm bracelet, a common blessing given to participants like him.

During the Hunt of the Beasts, traditions came about among the participants and non-participants. Those who participated in the hunt would offer their game as an offering to their lover as a show of devotion and strength to protect them from harm. In addition, non-participants could give a blessed items to the participant of their choice as a show of admiration or to wish them safety during the hunt.

You noticed the knight’s gaze and you felt more nervous than before. As this was your first attendance, this was also the first time offering a blessing to someone. When you told your servant you were going to the hunting event, he graciously gave you a woven bracelet and suggested that you offer it to your “lover”, much to your embarrassment.

But then you noticed the knight more closely and saw that he already had a number of bracelets and ribbons peeking out from his left arm sleeve. You supposed despite his eccentricity, Rook was still a very talented knight and quite attractive to people of all social status. Even if he was technically a taken man, this did not stop admirers from showing favour towards him with blessed charms and ribbons.

Mortified, you tried to hide the small bracelet as you put on a smile. “Since it was tradition, I thought I should bring you something but I should have guessed that you would have plenty of blessings from others. Adding more would probably be burdensome-“

You flinched slightly when you felt your hands being captured by another pair. You saw Rook’s gloved hands stopping your own but he had such an unreadable look in his eyes that you couldn’t tell what was on his mind.

“Rook?” The call of his name seemed to have woken him from his trance as Rook quickly gave you a smile before he spoke.

“Mon amour, I would be honoured to receive your blessing.” Releasing his grip on you, Rook removed the glove on his right hand where unlike his counterpart hand, was empty. “Would you please place it upon me?”

Nodding your head, you gently wrapped the woven bracelet around Rook’s wrist, careful not to tighten the knot too much since this was Rook’s dominant hand. You tried not to think too much about how he allowed your blessing and only yours on his right hand and not with the rest on his non-dominant hand.

“It doesn’t mean anything.” you tried to focus on something else and rested your eyes on Rook’s hand. It was not often you see it as the blonde-haired man tends to wear gloves as part of his uniform but you could see the rough calluses and scars littered about his fingers and palm. The skin of his hand was smoother than you expected (probably due to his friendship with the Schoenheit heir) but you can tell how hard Rook must have trained to be as skilled as he was today. How diligent this man is which earned the respect of many. While caressing his warm hand, you absentmindedly echoed the words he once spoke to you.

“Every scar, blemish, and crack is a show of your strength…How beautiful.”

Realizing what you just said aloud, you quickly let go of Rook’s hand before rushing to create distance between the two of you (when did you get so close to begin with?!).

“There, all done!” you did your best to hide your embarrassment with a smile. “I’ll be in one of the tents until the hunt is over. I wish you luck!”

With a quick bow, you rushed into a tent that was open, too flustered to look back and face your fiance.

A shame, really. Because you missed the opportunity to see a rare image of Rook with a rosy shade blooming across his cheeks and ears.

[fanartfic]

I got this idea after listening to this song.

It's been living rent free in my head.

https://youtu.be/cDlGFbBipCo?si=jbWgIh9OmXkgicps

This is a standalone, and is not associated with my other fics.

TW: nightmares, death, afterlife.

CW: None. Pretty much all fluff.

Reincarnations

Tren woke with a start, her chest pounding, and her brow slick with sweat.

"What in the Hells was that?" She gasped, clutching at her chest. 

A nightmare. 

Just a nightmare. . .

Right?

She flung her blankets aside and climbed out of bed, walking over to the window of her new room in the house she now called home. She had to transplant herself to Baldur's Gate after a natural disaster had wiped out her old home at the foot of the mountains. 

How she missed it there: the trees, the animals, the nearby Emerald Grove that she would go and visit to buy supplies. . . Their archdruid, Francesca, was always kind to her. She always felt a connection to them. Perhaps it was her unpracticed druidic nature that drew her to them. Maybe it was because a part of her felt at home there.

Tren shook her head and sighed, rubbing her temples. She was beginning to regret her decision to come to Baldur's Gate, instead of settling in Reithwin. But for some unexplained reason or another, she felt called here.

She needed to clear her head. Tren rubbed at her eyes and leaned over on the windowsill. The view looked out over the Chionthar, now glistening in the dawning light. Her thoughts went back to her dream.

She had been falling, from somewhere high. She had been trying desperately to do something. . .

Change? Into what?

An animal. . . A bird! A raven would do!

But she couldn’t do it. She didn’t have the strength left in her. She had felt the resignation in her heart as the water rushed up to meet her. A voice cried out to her desperately; calling out a name she did not recognize as her own. But the love and grief that voice inspired in her heart made her ache to her very soul.

What was that name again? Think, Tren, think! 

Tav! That was the name. 

In the dream, she didn't want the owner of that voice to be sad, to grieve her absence.

The owner of that voice felt deeply important to her. As if he had her heart, and she had his.

Tren wondered what the dream could mean. She had been having these visions every few nights ever since moving to Baldur’s Gate a few months prior. Perhaps there was something to it. Elves believed in reincarnation, and she was half, barely 23 years old. . . Perhaps? 

Tren shook her head. “That’s insane.” she said out loud, turning away from the window. "It's a myth, nothing more." she told herself. Despite it being early dawn, Tren threw on some clothes and quietly left the house she shared with a few other tenants, heading towards the forests that surrounded the city. Some time in nature was needed, desperately. 

Tren never quite understood her need to be outdoors all the time, but she never kept herself from her desires. As she made her way out of the city and into the surrounding countryside, she cast a spell she had recently learned. 

“Amicus Animalus,” she said, waving her hands in a manner that seemed appropriate. 

“Tren! You’re here!” She immediately heard a nearby bird caw out. A black raven with a stark white chest fluttered down and landed on her shoulder, nuzzling his beak into her brown hair. 

“Hello Yungie!” Tren laughed as she reached up and petted the crows' smooth feathers. “Sorry for not coming sooner. It can get hard to get away sometimes.” 

“You could always take me with you,” 

“Well, I wouldn't mind, but my roommates might. . .” Tren shook her head. “Besides, I enjoy coming out here.” 

Yungie let out a caw and nibbled at her ear, causing Tren to squeal. 

“Hey! Enough of that!” 

12 years later. 

Tren stacked some wood outside of her small cabin in the woods. She had bought this little parcel of property from a local farmer five years prior, and they had graciously helped her with building the abode. Since then, she had studied plants and herbs; becoming proficient in the making of salves and tinctures for common injuries and illnesses.

Tren felt more at home here, more at peace. The years spent in the city had been difficult on her. Her nights were always plagued with dreams and nightmares of events long past. She would tell a few people about her dreams, and they said it sounded similar to something that happened in Baldur’s Gate over a hundred years prior.

The Absolute Incident, and the defeat of the Grand Design.

Some of the things she recalled from her dreams were uncannily accurate. Right down to the names and descriptions of some of the heroes who had risked everything to save the city.

Tren hoped getting out and back into nature would help alleviate the dreams. She had earned some skill as a Druid from an old Harper that still lived in the city. A grumpy old half orc that was the adopted son of Jaheira, who herself had been one of those heroes. He was the one who had taught her about herbs and their uses.

Tren hadn’t told him of the dreams. . . Not yet anyway. She knew he had been around when everything happened, but she didn't want to do anything to upset the old man. Despite a sour demeaner, he really was a sweet old druid, and had taught her much over the past decade or so. But now Tren wanted to be out on her own for a bit, practicing her Druidic magic in a place where Nature abounded. 

Her little cabin in the woods was perfect. She still made it a point to visit Jord every week, bringing him cuttings of plants she found in the forests that he would find useful for his achy joints. It was the only time she went to the city anymore.

 

After she finished stacking the wood, Tren took the remainder inside to light her hearth with. She made herself a small meal, then went to sleep in the pile of pillows and blankets in the corner of the two room abode. 

She hoped and prayed to Sylvanus that this night would be free of the dreams. Despite being out of the city for 5 years, they would still plague her. But sometimes she would have a peaceful night. 

She prayed for one tonight. 

~~~••~~~

“Praise Sylvanus! You did it, my heart!”

Tav felt her love’s strong arms surround her as the party celebrated on top of the now defeated elder brain. They drew apart long enough for a passionate kiss, before suddenly the ground fell out from underneath them. The sudden jerk forced them apart, falling away from each other.

“Halsin!” Tav cried out, reaching for him. 

The brain struck a tower and spun around violently, sending Tav flying off the side of the brain. There was nothing but water below her now, rushing up all too quickly. 

“Tav! Hold on, my heart. I'm coming!” 

Tav could only watch as the water rushed up towards her. She looked over her shoulder, and saw Halsin dive off the brain towards her, his hand stretched towards her as he plummeted after her.

She looked back towards the water. She tried to wild shape. Her free spirited raven was desperate to save her. 

But she didn't have the strength left. She had already been sorely wounded during the fight with the brain, and all her magic was exhausted. 

She looked at the water rushing towards her; at the docks nearby; and at the brilliant red sunset that lit up the sky in shades of purple, blue, and crimson. 

She closed her eyes as the tears streaked across her face. She looked back towards Halsin, who was still too far away to offer any help.

“Halsin! I love you!”

She heard Halsin cry out in anguish.

Then impact, searing pain, and blackness. . . 

But it was calm, quiet, peaceful. 

Then a voice. . . Two of them, actually. One she recognized: Withers. 

“Bone man, what are you doing here?” she wondered.

“This is my domain, mortal. And another has come here to bargain.” 

“Bargain? For what?”

“For your soul.”

~~~~••••~~~~

Tren jolted awake with a loud gasp, startling a sleeping Yungie on her windowsill. He let out a disgruntled caw as he jumped down to perch on her shoulder. 

Tren tried to catch her breath 

“Sweet Sylvanus. . . Yungie. . . I. . .I died.” she clutched at her chest, then at both arms and legs. 

That was the most vivid dream she had had yet. She threw off her covers and jumped out of bed, throwing on an overdress as she ran outside, not even bothering with shoes. 

That dock. . . She had to get to that dock. She had to see it for herself. 

And Halsin. . . She remembered that name. He was also one of the heroes of Baldur's Gate. 

She. . . well, Tav. . .Had loved him. Loved him dearly. 

She could still feel the heat of that last kiss on her lips, despite it being just a dream. 

Was it just a dream? 

“Come on, Yungie.” Tren jumped into the air and wildshaped into a raven with a white back and flew off towards the city, her companion flying after her. She had to figure out what prompted that dream, and her answer lay in the city.

~~~•••~~~

Halsin hadn't been to Baldur's Gate proper in over a century. He couldn't bring himself to after suffering the pain he had been through after the fall of the Absolute. But Shadowheart and Astarion had invited him for a reunion of sorts, and he felt he should make the effort. 

One hundred and fifteen years. . . Had it really been that long? Settling in at Reithwin and establishing it as a colony had taken decades, coupled with the nine cart loads of children he had taken there. 

They were all grown with families of their own now. Those of shorter lived races left their descendants, who were just as enthused about keeping the colony, now a town with a nearby druids grove, up and running smoothly. 

It had been early morning when he had arrived at the gates. He was let in with no issues. Much different from the last time he entered the city. As he walked the quiet streets, looking around at the rebuilt buildings and gardens, he saw a pair of ravens fly overhead, cawing back and forth. One was much bigger than usual. 

Halsin’s curiosity was piqued. As far as he knew, there weren't many druids in the area outside of Jaheira’s now elderly son, Jord, and his apprentice. They had kept in touch with letters over the years, and he had kept Halsin up to date with the going ons of the city. Including the process of training the aforementioned apprentice druid in herbalism in his spare time. 

Tren was her name. Halsin was looking forward to meeting her. He had been told much about her in their correspondences. About how much she reminded him of their old friend Tav, before she had tragically died during the fall of the Netherbrain.

Tav. . . More than a friend, she had been his whole world, his heart. . . 

Halsin could feel the ache in his chest even now, remembering back to the moment she died with a sickening slap into the water. He had wildshaped just in time to avoid dying himself. 

But there was no saving Tav. She was too far gone by the time they found her body washed up a day later. 

He had been unable to find her in the murky depths, and had hated himself for decades for failing to find her. If he had, he could have saved her.

He had thrown himself into the task of taking care of the orphans in Reithwin and rebuilding the town there. Moonrise had been converted into an orphanage and dormitory, with hanging gardens and trees planted all around the scarred landscape. Despite its dark history, the land had come back to life. Thaniel and Oliver had made sure of it.

Several druids from the Emerald Grove had also joined him in Reithwin. Nettie and Rath, the two he considered friends the most, came to help him establish a new grove. Halsin served as a mutual leader over both, though he gave Rath the task of being archdruid, and Zevlor, who had returned to Moonrise with him from Baldur's Gate, the job of leading the refugees in resettling the town.

With him serving as a mediator, the two had formed a symbiotic relationship and had prospered greatly over the last century.

Nettie now served as Archdruid, as Rath had passed on into nature. Zevlor served for another twenty years before he retired, passing from old age a few years later. Elections were now held every five years to appoint a new governor.

His hopes and dreams of healing the Shadow Cursed lands had finally become a reality. . . but he couldn't have done it without Tav.

The harsh caw of a raven brought him out of his reverie. He had unconsciously made his way down to the dock where Tav’s body had been found floating in the water. Her raven companion had been circling overhead, calling loudly to anyone who would listen.

It had been a heart wrenching day. 

Halsin wondered why his unconscious mind had brought him back here. He was loathe to re-live that pain again. He looked at the city around him as the early morning light began to brighten and turned to walk away when something caught his eye.

There, on the end of the dock, stood two ravens. The smaller one had a white chest, while the larger one was white all up and down it's back, with a black tail and wings. The same ones he had spotted flying overhead when he had entered the city.  

There was a flash of green light, and a young woman stood in place of the larger raven. Her hair was cropped short at her shoulders and she wore a simple dress tied above the waist with a woven belt. She wore no shoes, and her feet were muddy.

Her back was to Halsin. She held on to the pier's pillar as if to steady herself and looked out across the water. She hadn't noticed Halsin’s presence. He felt he should keep it that way.

As he began to turn away, he heard her speak to the raven beside her:

“Yungie. . . What am I? Who am I? Why do I keep having these dreams?” she said, looking down at her raven. 

He fluttered up onto her shoulder and nuzzled into her hair to comfort her.

Halsin caught his breath. 

Tav's raven used to do the same thing. 

Could it be possible? Halsin took a tentative step forward onto the dock. No, it couldn't be. Tav is dead. I buried her myself.

He shook his head and turned away. But as he began to walk back up the hill, a voice echoed in his mind. 

Go back, faithful one.

~~~•••~~~

Tren clutched onto the pillar for dear life as a voice echoed in her mind. 

“You have come at last, my child.”

“Sylvanus?”

“The same. Now, close your eyes, and remember….”

~~~•••~~~

Tav blinked as she looked at Withers. “Gods. . . I really am dead aren't I?” 

Withers nodded, then turned towards another figure that had appeared.

"Oak Father!" Tav fell to her knees and bowed low as her god approached her.

“Rise child, and come with me. I have a favor to ask of you,” Sylvanus replied, holding out his hand to her. 

Tav looked up at Withers who nodded in approval. “Go now, warrior. Thou art needed elsewhere.” he said, a smile on his dry lips. 

Tav took Sylvanus’ hand and let him pull her to her feet. 

“What do you want of me?” she asked, hesitantly. 

“How would you like another chance to live, to be with the one you love?” 

“I would give anything.” Tav replied, with no hesitancy. 

Sylvanus nodded. “Your memory will be wiped clean, until the time is right. You will have dreams, flashes of memories, of important moments in your previous life.”

“My previous life?”

Sylvanus nodded and looked down at her with a smile. 

“My child. . . You will be reincarnated. And when the time comes for you to fulfill your destiny, everything will be laid bare, and made clear.”

He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. 

“Now, Tav, my child, my ever faithful one. . . Awaken.”

~~~•••~~~

Tren gasped and opened her eyes, falling to her knees to the dock. Yungie fluttered on her shoulder and cooed softly, trying to comfort her. 

Tren. . .no, Tav, clutched at her chest to try and calm her racing heart. Her entire previous life had rushed back to her in that moment. Memories of her previous family, friends, loved ones, trials, and blessed times flooded her as her head pounded.

Was she even the same person? No, of course not. . . But Tren was still a part of her. The life she had had so far was still there. Memories of growing up in an orphanage, of her cabin beneath the cliff that she built with her bare hands, the rock slide that had nearly buried her, and would have if Yungie hadn't warned her. It was all still there.

She felt the tears pool into her eyes. 

“By Sylvanus' beard, Yungie. I don't know what to make of this?” she gasped. “I'm still me, but at the same time, I'm not? I can't explain it,” she sobbed. 

Yungie hopped down from her shoulder and into her arms, trying his best to snuggle into her and hug her with his wings. 

He hated it when his master was sad. 

As Tav closed her arms around him, she felt a warm comforting hand on her shoulder, and a voice spoke to her.

A voice from her dreams.

A voice from her past life. 

“Are you alright?”

~~~•••~~~

Halsin had heard her fall before turning to see the woman on the dock on her knees, weeping and gasping for breath. He threw all caution to the wind as he jogged down the pier towards her, kneeling down beside her. He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Are you alright?” 

Tav froze as that voice triggered a whole new set of memories to flood through her. Long moonlit walks, longer nights in each other's arms, and passionate kisses under the stars. 

And those arms of his. How she desperately wanted to feel those arms around her again. 

She turned a tear stained face to look up at him.

He looked different now. Older and more wise than before, if that was even possible. Streaks of silver now adorned his auburn hair, and the lines of his face had grown deeper. And his eyes, though awash with concern, held a deep and profound sadness in them.

She reached up a trembling hand and touched his face. 

Halsin wasn't sure how to react. She was looking at him as if she was seeing a long lost lover. 

She looked so familiar to him. Especially her eyes. Piercing gray eyes like a stormy sky before the clouds burst. 

She looks just like Tav.

“Are. . .are you alright?” He asked again. 

“I don't. . . I don't know.” She retracted her hand quickly, as if realizing what she was doing was strange, and rose to her feet. Halsin helped her as best he could. She looked up at him again, bewilderment in her eyes. 

“How. . . How are you here?” She asked. 

“I'm sorry?” Halsin was confused.

“Never mind. . .” The woman looked back towards the water, she shook her head and rubbed at her temples. “Sylvanus help me, this makes no sense!” 

Halsin sighed and nodded. “Sometimes that is just the natural order of things,” he said. 

Tav kept her back turned to Halsin. How she desperately wanted to tell him who she really was; what had happened all those years ago; how she came to be there now. But she wasn't sure how he would take it. She didn't know if he had moved on with his life like everyone else. Perhaps he had fulfilled his dream and found someone else, made a family with them. She didn't blame him if he did. 

“That’s so like you to say,” she couldn't help but scoff at the absurdity of it all as she brushed the tears from her face.

“What?” she heard Halsin gasp.

She just got her memory back, and Halsin was standing right there, as if it was ordained to be so by Sylvanus himself.

Probably because it was.

Tav took in a deep breath. She wasn't the druidic warrior he remembered. She wasn't strong or powerful like she had been back then. In another time, another place. A whole other life. But she was still a druid, and her lifespan would easily fit into the remainder of Halsin’s. 

Was this why I was sent back? To be with him for the rest of his days? 

She turned around to face the large druid, tears still brimming in her eyes. 

“I don't know if you will believe me. It's almost too good to be true,” Yungie hopped back up onto her shoulder to give her a reassuring nuzzle before hopping to the nearby pillar. “But we met before. . . A lifetime ago.”

Halsin felt his heart skip a beat. 

“I. . I'm sorry. . . We have met before?” 

The woman nodded. She took a step closer to him, mirroring a test they took with a dryad once upon a long time ago. 

“You are a kind and gentle soul, who had so much grief and strife thrust upon you in your life.” she began, slowly. “You have no family, because they all passed before you. They are buried near the Grandfather Tree. It didn't surprise me that you loved nature, and I loved the fact that you whittled in your spare time. And I did indeed find it hilarious when you said you loved honey.” 

She took another step towards the now shocked druid as his face grew pale. 

“You spent a hundred years trying to find a way to lift the shadow curse. You were so desperate that you foolishly went with a band of ill-prepared mercenaries who abandoned you at the first sign of trouble. We had to come save you!" she chuckled and wiped at the tears in her eyes. “I remember helping you at the portal to the Shadowfell. I remember seeing how fearful you were when you were holding Thaniel in your arms, realizing he was incomplete. I remember the relief in your eyes when we convinced Oliver to return to him. The joy when you watched the Shadow curse disappear from Reithwin.” 

It was Halsin’s turn to take a tentative step forward. His heart was racing, disbelief and hope on his face all at once as his color returned. 

“It. . . It cannot be,” he stammered.

Tav took yet another step forward. “I remember your arms around me that first night we shared. How ashamed you were of yourself when you couldn't help your bear coming out. How happy I made you when I said I didn't care.” 

“This. . . Is this possible?” Halsin felt chills running down his back and arms. He closed the gap between them, finding his hands firmly clasped in hers. Elves were known to  believe in reincarnation, but it was so rarely heard of that there were many who doubted its reality.

The woman before him continued.

“I. . . I remember after defeating the Absolute. . . I remember falling.” Tav reached up and cupped his cheek in her palm. “ I remember telling you I loved you before I hit the water.”

She closed her eyes as a river of tears fell down her face. “And I remember that I still do. I still love you.” 

Halsin felt like the wind had been knocked out of chest. “Tav?” he said, his voice wavering as the tears rimmed his hazel blue eyes.

She nodded her head, cupping both sides of his face in her hands now. 

“It's me, Halsin. I'm here. I'm home.” 

Halsin felt his strength give out as he fell to his knees in front of her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face into the front of her dress as he unashamedly wept, holding her tight, afraid to let her go again, lest she be a dream that would fade away. Tav ran her fingers through his hair, gently as he remembered her doing before as she leaned forward and planted a warm kiss on the top of his head. 

They remained so until Halsin got a grip on himself. He stood to his feet, pulling Tav into his chest and holding her tight. 

“Oak Father preserve me, is this really happening?” he asked, just as much to Sylvanus as to the woman in his arms. 

Tav wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a squeeze. “Gods I hope so,” she sobbed. “I missed you for so long and never knew it until now.” 

Halsin tipped her chin up gently with his hand. His eyes darted back and forth as he took in her every feature. He looked into her eyes: those gray orbs that could be so kind, yet so fierce if they needed to be. But the rest of her was slightly different. She had been fully elven before, but now she was half. She was slightly shorter, with a stockier build. The human coming out in her for sure.

But it didn't matter. . . This was Tav. His Tav.

His Heart.

Halsin leaned forward until his forehead rested against hers, his eyes closing as his own tears began to fall.

"I. . . I never got to tell you," he said shakily. "You hit the water before I could tell you."

"Tell me what?"

Halsin opened his eyes, finding Tav's gaze as she looked up at him.

"I love you too."

Tav tried not to break into a new round of sobs, but failed as she jumped into Halsin's arms, wrapping her own around his neck. Her chest ached and she felt that her heart would burst.

Gods, how much she had yearned to hear those words from him. She had waited through death and back to hear them.

"Say it again. . . Please," she asked between shuddering gasps.

"I love you, Tav." said Halsin, wrapping his arms around her legs to hold her up more securely.

Tav pulled away slightly, practically sitting perched on his biceps. She cupped his face in her hands.

"Gods. . . Can I kiss you?" she managed to laugh through her tears.

"I thought you'd never ask," Halsin smiled back.

Tav wasted no time as she leaned forward, pressing her lips to his desperately. Halsin set her down slowly so he could enfold her fully in his arms, never breaking the kiss; drinking her in like a parched man who had found a crystal clear well in the desert.

Once they finally pulled away for breath, they shared a laugh. They were both blushing like young lovers that had been caught in the act. Halsin took Tav's hands in his.  

"The Oak Father has blessed me this day. . ."

"I pray his blessings never end," Tav squeezed his hands, then began leading him back towards the city.

"Come on, we have a lot to catch up on," she said with a smile.

~~~•••~~~

[bestworstcase]

Okay, so in an earlier post, you brought up the idea that Dark saw Salem as his heir (sorry if this is off. I couldn't find the og post) and destroyed the world with Light because he knew Salem could bring back humanity.

Now, with your new post about the transcendent cycle (human->grimm->human or faunus), it got me thinking: Did Dark build the transcendent cycle for Salem to find and kickstart the world with?

original / addendum

broadly my thinking is that the salem incident led dark to conclude that the ongoing disagreement between himself and his brother (re: jabber) couldn’t be resolved, and everything he does afterward is a gambit to get light to leave remnant just as they left the ever after when their disagreement first became untenable. the brothers make salem immortal by mutual agreement but for very different reasons; for dark, a human rebellion is the intended outcome.

dark understands destruction—and through destruction, renewal and change—and i’m convinced that after he left remnant, he went home to the tree and ascended. whether he intended for salem to do what she did afterwards or not is less clear, but he knew it was possible and he left the wellspring of his power behind for her to find. “you thought there was no greater punishment we could bestow upon you?” and “still demanding things of your creators?” together add up to “we are crueler than you know and if you continue to seek our help, you will suffer; figure it out yourself.”

and then he shattered the moon—his own creation, according to legend, a symbol of his divine authority as one of the creators of that world—on his way out. unlike his brother, his departure is violent and final. i think he just left; implicitly dark’s judgment is the world is in salem’s hands now and she can do whatever the hell she wants with it.

the transcendent cycle i think just emerged through the combination of salem’s soul with the divine wellsprings and the underlying cosmic echoes of the tree in the world the brothers made; after all, they made humans in their image. it stands to reason that once the artificial system got disrupted, remnant evolved its own form of reincarnation.

[n7punk]

"Trade Today For Tomorrow" (LYUTDIDverse) Fic Notes

Trade Today For Tomorrow and it’s follow-up fic, Check My Chest (Am I Still Breathing?) are done! These were doozies that I kind of went a bit manic writing so it’s good to have them out of my brain lol

Trade Today For Tomorrow (Main fic):

⦁ No epilogue section in the fic notes this time since well, I kind of already wrote that, and also there’s so many endless possibilities to cover I couldn’t narrow it down, but there’s some stuff scattered throughout this fic notes too.

⦁ I posted the playlist ahead of the rest of the fic, but I didn’t actually assemble it until I was like halfway through the main fic because I was going through a major update to my music library at the time. For the first part of the fic, I instead listened to my (semi-generic) heartbreak playlist, which drivers license ended up being pulled from.

⦁ It’s the Temple of the Stars because they’re star-crossed lovers, you get it? Lol, well, only partially. Stars are kind of a thing in my fics, usually something I have be part of Etheria’s religious beliefs inspired by the loss and reappearance of them in canon, so for this fic that just worked out really well.

⦁ I mention “the old lines” of other reincarnating lives and Catra basically offhand thinking this whole process is a hassle and she could understand not redeclaring, but she quickly figures out that in the modern age, holy fuck you want to redeclare. It’s easy to reach out, easy to travel, and without it you will have a lot of difficult passing stuff on. The process is also a lot easier the second time. They have to establish so much when first building a reincarntor’s profile, but after that it’s just keeping it up to date. The old lines that do still exist have figured out ways and mostly are clinging onto not-so-relevant reasons not to come back often (they also haven’t visited in a while and realized how much easier this is now and how much less it makes you like, a political target now its not the feudal era or whatever) but a lot of them have also died out. It’s like immortals: there’s only so much the soul can take, and eventually it won’t want to come back. There is some speculation that there is a finite number of people who can reincarnate. The much-theorized number is there are only 9 reincarnating souls in existence at any one time, but it’s literally impossible to know since they have never had a summary of all the individuals throughout history with the ability and they have no proof even one of them has stopped reincarnating rather than just choosing to go underground and not declare anymore — not to mention someone from 600 years ago could pop up today claiming to be a totally different person and a brand new reincarnation based solely on their last life that no one knows is tied to their original (yes, this has happened, both undetected and speculated, rightfully and wrongfully) which could fudge the numbers. The 9 number is mostly touted due to its religious significance.

⦁ Adora was basically locked down for the rest of Catra’s mortal lifespan. She wasn’t going to move on until any chance of them meeting again was gone. When she had eternity to waste, that was a surprisingly easy commitment to make.

⦁ Adora started wearing her hair down more a bit after Catra left, trying to make changes and distance herself from their relationship. She always thought about Catra teasing her over her ponytail as she put it up, or about how she would take it down when she wanted her hands in her hair. Now she mostly wears it down or half-up with a low ponytail at the back of her head like that one fanart ND Stevenson did.

⦁ Adora is 100% right that Catra leaving saved their eternity together. She wouldn’t have survived Catra’s depression killing her. If Catra had somehow managed to pull herself out of it, they would have had several rocky years, and then the possibility of happiness for a while, but losing Catra even to a natural death would have been it as well: all Adora wanted was a mortal life with her wife, and that’s what she would have gotten. Not knowing when Catra died is what stopped her from having the chance for that grief to hit, no matter when it happened, because it would have always been wondering and then “she’s probably gone” and then “she’s definitely gone,” but it all would have been a slow build.

⦁ Alright, Catra’s moms names. I pretty much immediately knew I wanted cat-related/pun names because that’s very in line with the rest of the names in this universe. Felina comes from the off-brand doll because I thought that was hilarious. Leona is the name meaning lion (brave lioness) that I knew off the top of my head and I poked around at others but ended up settling on it.

⦁ Catra’s “first” word being ‘go’ was because she loved to give orders as a baby. Which was very precious when it was a shockingly cognizant baby being very clear about her wants and needs and then made a lot more sense in retrospect.

⦁ Catra’s parents never told her about the ‘ora ‘ora (Adora) thing after they realized what it was because they thought it might hurt.

⦁ Catra’s parents also, unbeknownst to Catra, did try to use search engines to find Adora pre-social media and didn’t turn her up. They tried again a few years late, but Adora only had a Facebook then and they didnt find it. After that, they didn’t try again since Catra was a teenager and it was up to her if she wanted to try to find her. If her parents had found Adora, they would have had to debate what to do then. It was kind of “we’ll cross that bridge when it comes to it” thing but it never came to it.

⦁ When it comes to Catra’s mental development and making friends, she was in this weird place where she “was forty” but her brain also hadn’t developed to that point. She had stuff like needing to recalibrate her brain’s reward logic and behavior straddling the line of a mature child and, well, an adult. She knew stuff like calculus but suddenly had a lot of trouble wrapping her brain around it. This meant she only related to “other kids” when she was really young and her past life knowledge hadn’t fully come in. Elementary through high school she just didn’t relate to other kids, preferring adults who knew what she was and tolerated her weird in-between behavior. Not a lot of adults want to treat a kid as an equal, after all, and Catra was very much “eight and forty seven,” not just “forty seven.” When she hit college, she finally hit the point where the people around her were maturing enough for her to relate to them even if she was sixty and done developing at that point. She also reached the point where older adults were more willing to hang out with her and see her as equal. All-in-all, the first twenty years or so are kind of rough, but after that point everything evens out.

⦁ Because of her weird place in life, Catra spent a lot of time at the temple, both because she met her tutors there and because she got emotional/psychological counseling there. A lot of Catra’s early life was part of the temple, which is why she petulantly thought it was all too much. In later lives she leans more towards establishing herself there and doing tutoring wherever she happens to be.

⦁ The “things” Catra learned about herself during puberty ranged. It could be stuff like “oh, that’s a normal biological impulse for us, giving into it when it won’t cause problems is actually important for managing stress levels” to ridiculously basic shit like “getting pets is an important serotonin source and you should be getting a minimum” (like hugs) and the really, really embarrassing (like “you didn’t know you have a heat?”). Originally part of Catra’s tirade was “I’m lucky I’m a lesbian” but I excluded that because I couldn’t find a way to phrase it (and make it fit) that was gender inclusive because the real thing is “I’m lucky I’m a lesbian and have only been with you” since it could have caused problems if she had been with a trans woman.

⦁ The rest of the cutoff line “Is Adora-“ is “Is Adora proposing again?”

⦁ The stained-glass window hanging Adora mentions Catra getting her was a gift back when things were good. It was a tableau of the moons and stars. Later, it just became a reminder of the tie between Adora’s immortality and the moonlight, something Catra couldn’t stand to look at. It went from a touching and beautiful gift to something stuffed in a drawer. After she was gone, it was almost as painful to look at as their wedding ring.

⦁ Religion for the magicats is kind of weird. It’s more of a life philosophy than a strict religion. There have been many books written for it, all evolving over time and taking differing stances on certain parts. They don’t exactly have a bible or canon, just general teachings based on their personal beliefs. Their “religion” includes myths, but more in the sense of folklore than anything else. The temple doesn’t serve god(s), but rather inner fulfillment. Like most Etherians, they believe life came from the stars, and so they celebrate them, but it’s more like cosmic Mothers’ Day than worship. As such, they have their meetings in the evenings as the stars and moons emerge. I called them sundown sermons because Alliteration, but they’re more like lectures on different aspects of life and healthy habits (stuff from “be kind to your neighbors” to “lets talk about the struggles of addiction” to “forming positive thinking habits” and occasionally telling their folklore or history stories). The temple exists to preserve their stories as well as artifacts and history, but during the day it’s mostly a support center. The priestesses counsel people through personal problems, relationships, health struggles, things like addiction, and more. As such, Leona inviting Adora to visit it with them was less like “deal with this weird religion for two hours so we can take pictures” and more like “attend support group where you don’t have to talk for two hours and then meet everyone who helped us raise Catra. And we’ll take pictures.” When she said “I know you aren’t religious” that was partially to assure her it wouldn’t be anything conversion-y and partially because she knew Adora didn’t ascribe to the magicat life philosophy personally (though her personal beliefs do hold a decent amount of overlap).

⦁ The name for the series (“Love You Until The Day I Die (And Then Do It Again)”) is inspired by the song “Until The Day I Die” by Morgan Saint that’s in the fic’s playlist (linked at the end of this post). None of the lyrics fit exactly on their own but it’s heavily based off the chorus.

Check My Chest (Am I Still Breathing?) (Snippets fic):

⦁ I really wanted to include this scene with Adora in the fic but it would only make sense to have immediately after the scenes that take place in her loft after they reunite, and Catra’s next scene messed with that, so in the end wanting to write that was one of the big factors in doing a follow-up. I also wanted to include the ring stuff, but the graduation and Adora starting to wear her ring again felt like the right place to leave off the main fic, so the snippet fic let me do that.

⦁ I considered having there just be a second chapter to the main fic for the snippets, but… I also wasn’t sure I wanted to do this snippets all in one fic, and I wanted to leave room to possibly add more on later (not that I’m planning it at all, I just went weirdly insane on this project, so building in the ability to do that made since) which is why I went with a second fic.

⦁ The scene with Catra in her city planning class is based off of two things: the struggles of older generations of the LGBT community that face erasure, and city planner Robert Moses. The bar that Catra mentions is the same one their photo was taken in back in the main fic.

⦁ When Catra hits her late twenties in their second life, Adora starts getting kind of nervous because like, what if they’re in cycles and her depression comes back? Nothing ends up happening and when Catra hits 31 specifically, past the depression together and past when she left last time, she just wakes up one morning and it’s a ridiculous amount of relief. They have ridiculous morning snuggles that day.

⦁ The whole fic I wrote knowing Catra was a mechanic in her past life, working on becoming a mechanical engineer, and that Adora had gradually transitioned through office work until she was a project manager, but it just never came up aside from mentioning Catra’s mechanic manuals, so I’m glad some of it got into the fic notes. I think Adora gradually climbs her way up in the corporate world until she’s like, just below executive. Having to keep up with trends and the business environment (in addition to just having Catra in her life, who tends to live like a mortal/on a mortal schedule due to the way her life is broken up) helps keep her present in the current time rather than letting the years just kind of flow by. Having a job that pays well also helps with Catra’s life cycles (paying for her early years, sometimes having to move for where she’s reborn, supporting her when she can’t find work due to “looking to young” or when she has to do re-education to keep up with current knowledge/technology that changed while she was young, supporting her health when she’s older, etc) and things like inflation effecting what they have already accrued. Living forever is really expensive.

⦁ No matter how many families Catra has, even if they’re a lesbian couple, everyone who comes after her second life is either “her parents” or “her birth parents” (if she doesn’t get along with them). No one else will ever be “her moms.” That’s just for Leona and Felina. She considers them her “true” family and everybody else a kind of extended family.

⦁ I never included it in the fic (it was going to be in the snippets but… was too sad), but the reason Leona and Felina were in their forties when they had Catra is because they did have a kitten when they were in their late twenties/early thirties, but she was unhealthy and died when she was just a year old. They took a long time to heal from that before trying again (this time swapping, because they were worried about some kind of genetic problem and losing another kid, so Leona was the one who got pregnant for Catra). When they got Catra, they considered her a blessing no mater what, and that’s part of why they became such amazing parents for her weird situation.

⦁ I was going to include some scenes across Catra’s future reincarnations but honestly? It ended up feeling to sad even though they weren’t sad about it, I just find living forever to be a depressing idea lol. It’s part of why I said I’d never do an AU like this until I had this insane idea. That said, there was some important logistical stuff those scenes were going to cover, so here it is:

⦁ Reincarnation/Redeclaring process: Basically, the first time a reincarnator comes to the temple, the priestesses draw up a whole profile on them. Psychological, biographical, etc. They also set a passphrase with the individual. Now, sometimes the memory of that passphrase is recovered later than other memories, so it isn’t essential, you can just go and say who you are and list off as much of the information you do remember as possible, however it makes the process a hell of a lot easier. The process is partially a religious thing and partially a legal thing, but the religious part of it grants it a lot of exceptions (stuff Catra alludes to when she says legally no one can discriminate on her resume because it has been verified by the temple and that’s religious discrimination). Then there’s a test, which mostly is based on stuff you’ve done/said in the past (like “have you ever lived in Bright Moon,” “when was your first life,” etc with some philosophical questions thrown in). There is no automatic fail or win condition — aside from not resembling the person you’re supposed to be, anyway — you just try to verify as much information as you can. The priestesses also have lots of pictures of Catra throughout her various ages to compare her appearance, as well as her fingerprints. This process used to be a lot more spiritual and religion-based ("here’s ten stones, the real Catra would pick the right one" kind of shit), but over time it has morphed to a mostly practical one. There was a whole drive to reinvent and simplify it when almost no one was coming back to them anymore because old betrayals had driven them away. Said betrayals are things like the temple denying someone their redeclaring not because they actually thought they were an impostor but for political, religious, or even greedy reasons. Also once or twice verifying an impostor. The temple isn’t known for a history of corruption (it’s not the Catholic church, basically), but no institution is entirely unstained of it and over hundreds of years of history, there are bound to be some scandals. At the end of the testing, the priestesses jointly fill out paperwork with the new reincarnation declaring they have vetted and verified who they are, this individual is actually named [x] and [x] years old, they’re entitled to their old possessions and holdings, and they can be legally emancipated. Reincarnations are in this strange legal scenario where they can argue that they should be able to act independently as they are an adult but can also be argued against in the sense that they still need guardianship because their brain is mentally developing no matter the experience in their memories. It’s a strange place to be that there isn’t much legal precedent for in the modern system, but emancipation deals with some potential problems from that. Having immortals who know all her reincarnations also helps Catra out in the sense of there’s someone who would know better than the priestesses, who might not have ever met her old self (they easily could not have been born yet the last time she was there), and her friends will advocate on her behalf if there’s problems and — even when the temple is fully supporting and helpful — help her with stuff as basic as getting there when the temple doesn’t have the resources or authority to do so.

⦁ Okay, so, I thought about it. I had to. Sometimes when Catra gets reborn, her new family isn’t accepting. They don’t believe her because they wanted a young kitten and this would ruin that, or they’re uncomfortable with her being kind of older than them, or they just don't like her rejecting the name (and identity) they gave her, etc. That can be surmounted, though. In order to start the redeclaring process, all Catra needs to do is get in touch with either the temple or Adora. Preferably Adora, because she can and will drive to wherever Catra is to get her and bring her to the temple. Once she redeclares, she can be free of her family completely if necessary. Catra prefers to stay with her families in her younger years (as much as she is loath to admit it, what she needs at that time is parents, not anyone that she wants to be equals with), but sometimes it's just not a healthy option. If it's not healthy, she might stay with family from her last life if they're still around, or one of her other immortal friends, and Adora is a (temporary) fallback even though they agreed in Catra's first second-life that it's not ideal. Adora would rather chop off her own leg than let Catra be left in a bad situation again and Catra isn't about to sit back and let herself be mistreated, so they make it work however they have to. Most of the time, though, it's fine. Catra's parents are usually bewildered-but-trying and good enough. Adora can make things easier by doing stuff like arranging and paying for Catra's tutoring, trips to the temple for her declaring or counseling, etc so Catra's unusual situation is less stressful on them and their relationship can be as healthy as possible. Adora is there as a fallback but mostly steps back unless needed during Catra's younger years, though they still try to establish that first "I'm okay" contact as soon as possible and check in regularly. Catra is really lucky to have immortals in her corner. This would all be way harder if she had to rely on always either having understanding families or being able to reach the temple (another reason the other reincarnating magicats have figured out ways to do things on their own). Adora is kind of her trump card. Adora always tries to keep the same phone number, email, physical address, everything from when Catra dies so she can easily reach her when she’s cognizant enough to. The difficulty of carrying anything through life is also made so much easier when you have a wife who can inherit/manage all your shit for you, not to mention immortal friends who will step up and take care of you when you’re born in a bad situation, as well as provide emotional support.

⦁ On another final note, Catra treats her reincarnations like a continuation of her last life. A lot of the other reincarnators treat it as doing life again. Some of them don’t ever tell anyone it’s their second+ life, they just go through it like normal mortals and then do it again. Maybe if Catra didn’t have immortal friends, she would be more inclined towards that, but she always wants to reestablish herself young and to grow with each life. She generally treats her child/teen years as extended vacation, but she still wants to be recognized for who she is even as she goes through her mental development.

Original Outline:

Okay so my initial plan saw Adora and Catra missing each other entirely for one life, so for like 100 years or something Adora is just living with the “she’s probably dead, now she’s definitely dead” but that was wayyyyy too much in a fic that was already too much. I cried writing the first part and only started recovering once Catra was reborn so I went Nope this is happy now, this is where it all turns around.

Meta:

Playlist

Upcoming:

So I’m not 100% certain, but I’m pretty sure my next fic is gonna be a kind of interesting AU because it’s a style I haven’t done before. It’s called Children of the Crystal and it’s a bunch of one-shots taking place in the same universe over time, but largely unrelated and telling small stories, not one epic. Think in the style of my Outside of the War series. That's the one I've got on the backburner right now but we'll see what happens.

[chriscross-musings]

i just have so many feelings about cotard’s solution and genloss. (spoilers n stuff)

-

the change from the hypotheticals at the start to the screaming of “REMIND MY BRAIN OF MY IDENTITY, I’M NOT GONNA LISTEN, I’M NOT MY VOLITION, FREE WILL” reminded me a lot of “gl!ranboo’s mask flashing in ep 3 is his memory returning” and the subsequent (wrong) choice to ignore chat.

also the interpretation of “free Will” as a way to free the lead singer makes sense, considering how gl!ranboo begs chat to kill him at the end of the show

also i feel the instrumental style in general fits with the evil-veiled-in-wacky-overdramatic-fun style of the first two episodes

ALSO the concept of cotard’s delusion itself. the belief that you are a corpse/ghost yet still wandering the earth reminds me of the resurrection of characters who were killed (looking at you gl!charlie), and makes me think of my personal perception of the show, because of the fact i thought from the start it was building up to the death of the hero/the hero was already dead. all the christian hell jokes in the cabin and the death of everyone he was interacting with in ep2, not to mention the fact that he couldn’t remember his previous life at all - that sounded like reincarnation to me?

hetch said if he lived, he would have been repurposed and trapped in the show forever. that is, essentially, reincarnation, but not as a real person. reincarnation as a ghost/corpse.

i’m going to sleep now because i have a fever.

[luverofralts]

Arkhelios University

The sovereign of all demons stared nervously at the small building before her. The house was simple and unassuming, built to blend in with its surroundings and not attract unwanted attention. If she couldn’t feel the energy pulsing out of it, wave after endless wave, she might have passed it by herself.

It wasn’t as though she wanted to be here, standing alone, trying to summon the bravest face she could manage. No, Dorhack’s little experiments had driven her here and it couldn’t be helped.

“I thought demons couldn’t enter where they’re not wanted.”  A feminine voice called out, interrupting the sovereign from her thoughts. “Take the hint with all the wards placed here against your kind. You’re not welcome.”

The sovereign squared her shoulders and tried her best to look intimidating.

“You look different these days,” she drawled confidently. “Your newest incarnation looks weak and pathetic though. The power you’ve stolen from my grandfather is wasted on you, Lukas. No wonder you’ve been killed so many times.”

A flame ignited within the woman, her eyes fierce and angry. Her hands balled into angry fists at her side.

“That I’ve stolen? That’s rich coming from the little demon hybrid running around using her mother’s name. Do your demon friends know that your father comes from my champion’s bloodline? Do they realize yet how ill prepared you are to wield any sort of power, least of all the power your kind has kept from me?”

In an instant, smoke billowed around the woman, enveloping her form completely. The change happened in mere seconds, right in front of the sovereign. When the gentle wind nudged the smoke away, the angry woman was gone and in her place stood a furious pale man. On his head sat an old tiara, starkly contrasting his modern clothing. This was the change the sovereign had been hoping to see.

While most knew of the specter of death, the Grim Reaper, few spoke of his equal and opposite, Life. The deity of life was elusive, meddling throughout recorded history in the lives of the living for their own reasons. Over the countless centuries, Life endured the brazen attempts by others to leech their power, resulting in a being who had reincarnated several times and had several chosen forms because of it. The sovereign didn’t know which form was the most powerful, but she knew part of the deity’s true name was Lukas, so she had been hoping to deal with the masculine form. She was taking a risk angering a deity, but calculated risk was all part of ruling.

“Don’t let yourself get flustered, dearest. It’s what she wants.”

A low, authoritative voice joined the conversation and the sovereign felt a current of fear run through her despite herself. Death was ancient and powerful beyond even her understanding. She had heard stories circulate about witch covens or rogue demons who had tried to kill Death, only to be broken down piece by piece and scattered across the cosmos for their crimes. It was that exact power that she hoped to appeal to.

“Aside from irritating my spouse, did you have a purpose for your visit? I don’t usually entertain visitors at my private residence. Even for someone of your rank.”

The sovereign tried not to shrink under his withering glare. Her family had dealt with the gods for millennia and they could be reasoned with. Even she did not know their full history or the depths of the connections between demons and deities. Her mother had told her once that demons were connected strongly with Life, but even now she could see that Death wore the horns of a Great demon. They were clearly made from the same material, though she knew that even she didn’t stand a chance alone against either deity. It was power like theirs that had killed her mother.

“I’d like to speak with you,” she declared. “About an urgent matter that may require your...attention.”

She had to choke the words out of her mouth. A person in her position didn’t have to ask for help that often, and the few times she did felt like torture. She was always the one in control at all times, so making herself feel so powerless was crippling.

“So tell me what has brought you here. Surely it is something that troubles you greatly to come to us.”

Death calmly poured tea into a cup for his guest, ignoring his spouse’s objections. There was bad blood between Lukas and demons, but Death was older and wiser than his partner. He’d seen the formation of demons with his own eyes, watching the void they lived in open and grow to house them. Demons fit into the functioning of the world just as much as vampires or humans did. He held grudges against the specific demons who had tried to harm his spouse in an attempt to take their power for themselves, but he had sympathy for just about every other creature in the world. Besides, an imbalance in power among the demons had always been an historically bad situation and one that might need correction.

“It involves Dorhack, one of the Great demons,” the sovereign began. “I’m not sure if you remember him.”

“Hmm. I haven’t thought about that class of demon in a long time,” Death remarked slowly. “They gave your grandfather a lot of trouble, if I recall. Though he may have had a fling or two with Dorhack a long time ago. Those were different times.”

“I wouldn’t know about that,” the sovereign replied, swirling her tea nervously. “Grandpa never had the time for Mother, let alone her disappointing hybrid daughter. I know very little about him, though I’ve heard a great deal from others.”

“It may have changed things if he’d known how powerful you would become. He was many things, but being understanding or compassionate for those he deemed to be weak was never one of his gifts.”

Death paused to reminisce, something the sovereign found odd. It was almost as though he had been fond of her grandfather, but that didn’t match up with any story she’d ever been told about her family.

“It’s another hybrid that I’m here to talk about,” she continued nervously. “One that may become as powerful as I am. Dorhack has spent years trying to create a blood demon hybrid and I believe that he has succeeded. The boy is only one quarter demon and he has access to energy that could rip him apart in seconds. He has very few of the weaknesses known of demons limiting him as well. I fear that he may be the beginning of a dangerous trend among my people if news of the boy spreads.”

“I cannot kill someone before their time,” Death stated passively. He appeared to be unconcerned about this possible threat, leading the sovereign to believe that this was not the first time the child in Arkhelios had been brought to his attention. “He is a living soul and his time will end when it is meant to.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that he would be better off dead,” the sovereign replied. “I-I’m not sure what action to take with him. His power cannot be transferred or stolen, correct?” ”

“You’re worried about Kamalani, aren’t you?” Lukas snarled from their place on the couch. “She’s escaped your imprisonment and now you think she’s trying to use this boy, her grandson, against you.”

The sovereign bristled at the accusation. She wasn’t sure what exactly the powers of a deity were, but that information was supposed to be a secret.

“She’s escaped according to my design, Lukas,” the sovereign snapped. “She attacked her son as expected and is of little consequence to me. I have a plan for her.”

“It seems like Dorhack and his line are out of your control then, Saren,” the deity hissed. “If you want to flaunt true names, I just so happen to know yours. This Kamalani might be interested to know it as well.”

“Patience, dearest.” Death’s calm voice interrupted the brewing storm between his spouse and the sovereign. He took another sip of his tea, collecting his thoughts. “Remember the last time you meddled in demonic affairs. We have the children to think about now too.”

The sound of laughter could suddenly be heard down the hall, as two children ran rambunctiously between rooms.

The sovereign felt her eyes widen with surprise even though she tried to hide her reaction.

Life and Death have children? How is that possible?  Do the two of them not cancel each other out? How does the powers of Death interact with the powers of Life?

What potential did these children have and how would it impact her plans for her own people? Were they a threat just as large as the Arkhelios child?

“I’d like to test the abilities of this little hybrid,” she continued, ignoring the intense glare from Lukas. “He will seal his parents together in demonic matrimony and if that goes well, an entire world will open for him. I have need of someone with his abilities, though I must ask again, can these abilities be taken from him? Could they bound to someone else through magic or contract?”

“I will answer with a story then, if you’re so curious. Those gifted with power cannot lose it, as I’m sure you know,” Death answered slowly. “My spouse retains their innate power, though several have attempted to borrow from it against their will. You may have been young at the time, mere centuries old. Two of your kind used their blood connections and vile magic to render my dearest one comatose and siphoned off their powers. They held the borrowed powers of Life in their hands, but they could not control them. It is a dangerous practice to borrow gifts that were not meant for you. This action placed the balance of the world in peril as Life lay dormant, unable to fill their role. Your people also suffered because of this. The one demon perished after centuries of madness caused by his crime and the other? Well, my dear spouse woke up eventually and repaid them for their misdeeds.”

Death sipped his tea again and smiled at the leader of demons.

“Of course power can also be shared among consenting parties,” he added. “I’m certain that you’ve seen my eldest son during your travels. Since the birth of our newest children, I have stepped back from my duties and allowed him to function as my proxy. I retain my power, but I willingly share what he needs and there is balance. There will only be tragedy for one who attempts to take what is not theirs, but great things can be accomplished when balance is maintained.”

“Thank you for the audience,” the sovereign said quickly, finishing her tea and moving to stand up. “You have been incredibly helpful, and I appreciate the level of trust you have shown me. May I call on you again when I need insight?”

Death nodded just as quickly as his spouse angrily shook their head.

“Make an appointment beforehand,” Death answered gently. “Or perhaps seek an audience with my son. He is surprisingly capable in this new role, though he lacks my level of experience..”

“Of course.”

The two deities watched with bemusement as the leader of the demons vanished from their sight just as silently as she’d appeared.”

“She’s planning something,” Lukas remarked. “Those damn demons are always planning something. Werewolves never give us problems. Why can’t the demons be more like them?”

“Because then they wouldn’t be demons,” Death laughed. “Though her plans appear to be fairly shallow and boring, don’t you agree? Seeing how this little Theodosius handles demonic joining and asking about stealing power? She has heirs of her own around his age, doesn’t she?”

Lukas nodded, rolling their eyes as they did so.

“Her lineage combined with a descendant of a Great demon with that much power? It sounds like we’ll have to keep a closer eye on that child in the future.”

[naminethewriter]

Between Two Lives Chapter Two: Gluttony

Masterpost | Previous | Next | Ao3

Summary: Written for Intrulogical Week 2022 @intrulogicalweek

Logan is stuck in Limbo until the Afterlife Registration Bureau processes his case so he can properly move onto a afterlife, whether that is heaven, hell, reincarnation or something else. While wandering around aimlessly, he’s approached by a demon that introduces himself as Remus and offers him a quicker way to the next life.

Content Warnings: Food, Discussion of Past Lives

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Salutations Remus.”

 “There you are! I almost thought you changed your mind!” Remus grinned at Logan. Today the demon was dressed in what Logan would consider a more reasonable outfit than the day before with black, ripped pants that covered his entire legs, though paired with the same boots and a shirt that had more colors than Logan had seen since he got to Limbo.

 “I apologize, I did not remember the path as well as I thought I did,” he explained, straightening his tie. As a pair the two must look very odd since Logan’s shirt was neatly tucked into his pants and without a wrinkle on it. Add to that his dress shoes and slacks, the two couldn’t have more different styles.

 Remus took a look around. “Yeah, this place doesn’t really have anything that makes it stand out, huh? You know what, I’ll take you back to your apartment later, then I can pick you up there next time.”

 “That is satisfactory.”

“Great! Let’s get to todays challenge! I need you to take my hand.” Logan raised a brow but didn’t argue. “Better press those teeth together, you don’t wanna bite your tongue!” Remus warned as the other takes his hand and before Logan can ask what he means by that, he’s pulled through a portal of some kind. Thankfully he heeded Remus’ warning because as the land on the other side, the impact would have for sure clacked his teeth together rather forcefully.

 “Welcome to Sector P!” Remus announced and Logan takes a moment to look around. They stood on a street, similar to the ones in his own sector, but instead of apartment buildings – though he could see lots of them, too, just a bit further away – it was lined with restaurants. Any food imaginable was advertised with blinking signage, not as brilliant as on earth, they were still in Limbo after all, but it was much livelier than in the sector Logan was used to.

 “I was under the impression that all sectors were the same,” he said after clearing his throat.

 “Yeah, most would. They don’t really tell you that they group you based on like one defining characteristic.” Remus starts wandering down the road, eyeing the different signs. Logan follows, brows pinched.

 “What characteristics?”

 “Well, this is the sector for the foodies. There’s one for gamblers, nature lovers, children, animal people and so on. The ARB picks one out that seems to fit the best and sends you there.”

 “I understand, I think. But what is my sector about then? It’s a lot emptier.”

 “I think Sector G is mostly for loners and intellectuals. You had a library at one point but that apparently led to some fights about books and heated debates.” Remus used air quotes as he said ‘heated’. “It caused more trouble than it was worth, so they just put some random, fancy books in your rooms and hoped that would keep you entertained for long enough.”

 Indeed, there had been some books in Logan’s apartment, and despite them not catering to his specific tastes, he had read them since there was nothing else to do, but he finished them a while ago and had no desire to revisit them. He hadn’t even considered the possibility that his neighbors could have different ones he could borrow.

 “Here we are!” Remus called, pulling Logan out of his thoughts. They stood in front of a restaurant that advertised their all-you-can-eat buffet. With a grin, Remus led Logan inside. Immediately they were assaulted with an almost overwhelming mix of different smells. They all came from the buffet that had a bigger selection than Logan had ever seen.

 “This seems… excessive,” he commented, making Remus giggle.

 “You are the kind of person that would say that. You’re challenge for today is to try everything here.”

 “Everything?” Logan asked, eyes wide. “There is no way I can eat that much.”

 “Sure you can, if you put your mind to it!”

 “What about allergies?” Logan didn’t have any, but he was willing to fake one. Remus bellowed out a laugh.

 “You’re dead! You can’t have allergies!”

 “What do you mean?”

 “You don’t have a flesh prison anymore that could react badly to anything here. You don’t need to breathe anymore either. You’re a soul, you don’t need sustenance. I could stab you and nothing would happen.”

 Logan furrowed his brows in thought. “But I still feel pain. I even cut myself before.”

 “That’s because you’re used to having a flesh prison. You expect to feel pain, so you feel pain.”

 “You mean it’s like a pavlovian response?”

 “Yeah, essentially. It’s a habit your soul isn’t aware of.”

 “I see. But then what is the point of the restaurant if no one here needs to eat?”

 “Questions like that are exactly why you don’t have any in your sector. Some people enjoy the taste of food, even if it doesn’t get them anything else. Now, no more questions, you don’t have forever.” Remus pulled Logan over to a table where he plops down in a seat. “Go on, get a selection. I’ll wait here.”

 “If you insist,” Logan sighs and gets to work. Deciding to start at the salad bar, he filled a bowl with all different types of leaves, toppings, and sauces, before returning to Remus.

 “Starting light, are we?” he asked with his typical grin. Logan simply nodded.

 “I did not experiment much with food during my lifetime, so I thought I would start with what is familiar.”

 “Smart but boring.”

 “I am not in the intellectual sector for nothing,” Logan commented dryly, earning another laugh from Remus.

 “Tell me why else you’re there,” he asked, propping up his chin on his hands and studying Logan intently as he takes the first bite of his salad.

 “I was a professor in life. I have a doctorate in astronomy.”

 “Uhh, I love space!” Remus exclaims, wiggling in his seat. “It’s a shame I rarely get to see it. Tell me more.”

 So, during the time it took Logan to eat his salad, they discussed space and Logan’s research. In the time it took Logan to fill his plate a second time, this time with an array of appetizers, Remus decided he wanted to change topics.

 “What about family, Nerdy Wolverine? Ever got married?” he asked before Logan had even sat back down.

 “No. I had a few relationships during my twenties and at the beginning of my thirties, but they didn’t last that long. I never missed it, however.”

 “Yeah, that checks out, I guess.”

 “What about you?” Logan shot back, a bit offended by Remus dismissive comment.

 “I never got married when I was alive, but I’ve got-“

 “Wait a minute,” Logan interrupts. “You were alive once? A human, I mean?”

 “Yeah. Was ages ago, but yeah.”

 “How did you become” – Logan gestures to his horns and wings – “a demon then? I thought you were created like that.”

 “There are some demons and angels like that, mostly the oldest ones, but I think most of us are converted from human souls after being alive.”

 “Did you choose to become a demon then?”

 “Yeah! I was in heaven for a while, but it was like super boring and then I met Janny and he showed me how fun things can be, so I decided to become a demon and stick with him. We’ve been together ever since.”

 “Fascinating. What about your family then? If you had one, I mean.”

 “I wasn’t really close to anyone but my brother. We were soldiers, born and bred, pretty much, so we didn’t get a lot of parental love if you know what I mean. But me and Ro got along for the most part. Ended up becoming war heroes and died on a battlefield. Got us both into heaven and while I went down to hell, Ro stayed up there and became an angel. We still hang out from time to time.”

 “That’s allowed? Aren’t heaven and hell enemies?”

 “They used to be but not anymore really since there are way too many souls nowadays. It’s why this whole Limbo system exists; they would be overrun otherwise.”

 They continued like that for hours. Remus would ask Logan about his life on earth and Logan would inquire about the afterlife while slowly making his way through the assortment of dishes. Neither of them really paid attention to that though, too enthralled by their discussion.

 Eventually Logan arrived at the table with one last plate.

 “This should be all that I’m missing. I don’t feel like I ate all that much.”

 “Like I said when we came here, you don’t have a flesh prison anymore, you don’t have a stomach you can fill.”

 “And I suppose since I was so focused on our discussion, I didn’t even register how much I ate which is why it didn’t trigger the pavlovian response.”

 “Sounds legit to me,” Remus shrugged and watched as Logan finished the last of the dishes. “Congrats, Wristwatch, you passed challenge one!”

 “Thank you, Remus. I must say this was more delightful than I thought. You are a good conversationalist.”

 “Aw, thanks, Lo Lo! I had fun, too. But it’s time to go back. Gimme your hand.”

 Logan blinked. “Don’t we have to pay?”

 Remus burst out laughing. “Pay with what? We don’t have money here. And have you seen even one employee around here?”

 “I haven’t but… Where does the food come from then?”

 “Don’t question everything, dork. Now let’s go.”

 Logan wanted to protest more but he stopped himself. He had taken up a lot of Remus’ time already and they would meet again soon, so he could postpone his curiosity for now.

 “Very well then.” He takes Remus hand and is pulled through another portal.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“So, how was your day with the stuck-up?” Janus asked later that day when Remus once again deposited himself on his lap.

 “Fun! Got a lot of info about him. He was a professor for astronomy! He told me lots of space facts!”

 “Sounds wonderful, dear.”

 “Yeah, and tomorrow I’m gonna take him to Sector W.”

 “Isn’t that the sector full of… Are you sure that is a good idea, Muse?”

 “It’s gonna be fun, don’t worry!”

 “I doubt he will find it funny.”

 “I’m gonna make it up to him after. But first I really want to rile him up. He’s hot when he’s passionate.”

Janus sighed. He had a feeling that he would need to step in before the seven challenges were done.

[thegreygale]

So random AU idea: The Dragon Prince as RWBY.

.Ezran could be a Faunus with the explanation that Harrow is also a Faunus (a bird Faunus specifically shout out to Pip) and Sarai is human which is why Callum is also human

. Callus’s dad could have been a huntsman who died on a mission which is why Sarai ended up with Harrow

. Sarai is a huntress who died fighting a powerful Grimm(Sorry Avizandum) which is the boys’ motivation for becoming huntsmen

. Rayla could be an antelope Faunus due to the similarities between her horns and theirs(though if anyone thinks of something better feel free to add it or whatever these are literally just thoughts that I had at 2AM and am writing hours later 😅) her backstory can be similar to Ezran and Callum: lost parents to Grimm, has thirst for revenge, BUT with her she not only wants revenge against Grimm but also against the huntsman academies because she believes that her family was given a job that they couldn’t handle.

. Semblances are pretty simple here:

. Ezran: Peace Talks: Allows him to speak with and understand animals.

. Callum: Storm Soul: Allows him to channel his Aura into certain elements such as: Air, lightning, and water in order to create effects in the environment. This is the best way I could think to transfer his magic into Remnant without making him Oz’s reincarnation or something, bear with me.

. Rayla: Moonshadow(because when you’re given the perfect name for a semblance you just use it!): Allows her to turn invisible under certain conditions. Now this one is a little tricky with Remnant’s moon being shattered but so ATM the details are still fuzzy.

. Okay so this is where my idea starts getting a little….. ✨WILD✨ so brace yourself:

. First of all Viren and his family? Faunus, all of them. Because all of the talking about how elves and dragons consider humans to be “lesser beings”? Well let’s face it that sounds WAY too similar to how humans treat Faunus on Remnant to not have it be pointed out. So basically because of that I’m having Viren and his family, especially Claudia because frankly speaking the “humans know suffering at the hands of the elves from somewhere deep in their bones” thing could be rewritten to say “FAUNUS know suffering at the hands of the HUMANS from somewhere deep in their bones” and have it be a recruitment slogan for the White Fang.

. That being said there was something else that occurred to me that I frankly felt like would probably be the most fun/dangerous thing in the AU: Aaravos and Salem both exist.

. Basically speaking the concept here is that when Salem was first building her little cabal she came across a Faunus with ambition like hers, she trained him as one of her acolytes but unlike the others HE didn’t worship her, instead he was almost as manipulative and charismatic as her so she decided to do something with him: she gave him part of her magic. Now to a degree I know that there’s pretty much no way in hell that Salem would ever even consider doing something like that BUT she figured that it would be better to keep a close eye on him in case he ever went rogue so she figured that if she gave him the power he wanted and just waited for him to die she would ultimately get it back, no harm, no foul. But here’s where the concept gets kinda crazy (you should know that that means something if you’ve been reading up to this point) when Salem transferred her magic to Aaravos she also transferred part of the curse of immortality. This is because just like her magic the curse is attached to her soul. In finding out that he was now immortal Salem began thinking about ways to use Aaravos’ new condition to her advantage. This eventually lead to him being installed at the White Fang as a sort of false god of animals, bending the organization to Salem’s will indisputably.

Okay! So………. That’s a thing! I’m putting the idea and concept out there for honestly anyone to use…. Or change because this whole post is a mess…… I’m sorry. But yeah, seriously if you want to use this AU idea (or already have in a coherent way, which I can only envy you for) go ahead! I don’t really have any real plans for this idea but I still think it would be a cool idea for someone to run with so….. here😅.

[lunacyn24]

Girl Power and Sailor Moon (EP 1, 2, 4, & 8)

For once, I actually enjoyed the reading that accompanied the anime. Now, Sailor Moon is one of my all-time favorite series to watch. I fell in love with it because of the art style, the plot, and the representation of girl power this show offered. Some things that the reading pointed out that I want to talk about would be teenage angst and femininity. 

I’ve heard from many people before that one of the reasons that they couldn’t get behind watching Sailor Moon is because the main character, Usagi (Serena), is a crybaby. But, what people should realize is that she’s a 14-year old girl who found out from a talking cat (Luna) that she is the reincarnation of a long lost Moon Princess and is a hero who “fights for love and justice”. We see in the beginning of this series how Usagi is a major klutz, with lazy tendencies, who like a normal teenage girl has crushes on guys and likes to hang out with her friends and wear jewelry. However, the new identity of becoming Sailor Moon really changes this normalcy that Usagi prefers. This is further seen as the series goes on because sometimes there were glimpses of imposter syndrome with Usagi being Sailor Moon, the leader of the Sailor Scouts, because at first she was an “unwilling superhero”, as the reading so eloquently said, and typically relies on the other scouts when it comes to battling the enemy. Yet, Sailor Moon is the last woman standing to change or defeat the enemy. Thus, it brings forth the question of what does Usagi have to offer as Sailor Moon, what is her power? This answer ties into the femininity theme portrayed throughout the show. 

Femininity covers the foundations of Sailor Moon and the depiction of the Sailor Scouts (aka Sailor Guardians). The reading really helped me in seeing the different aspects of the various portrayals of feminine roles and meanings. For instance, in this series, the depiction of feminine power is seen as “otherworldly” as an example of hyper feminine qualities through each of the girls' respective representations of their planets. When it comes to physical traits, each Sailor has their respective planet symbol upon their heads. Creators stuck to a general body type, only really straying from that ideal body type by making their heights different, which is seen with Sailor Jupiter due to her having a taller build than the other girls. With features like round eyes, societal- accepting body type, and ethereal traits, these hyper feminine qualities catch the attention of the audience, especially male-viewers. The reading also discussed victim feminism which is a concept that I could immediately refer to Usagi because she was constantly put in situations of being the victim, especially when it came to fighting the enemy. However, she was saved, either by her friends and Tuxedo Mask, or by her own power which isn’t truly shown unless necessary, which plays into Usagi’s own femininity and self- identity that was questioned as Sailor Moon. Although Usagi is a typical teenage girl who just so happens to be a crybaby and a klutz, at the end of the day, both as a Sailor Scout and the Moon Princess, she can fight passionately and has the strongest ability to love and nurture as her greatest strengths.

[mandssisters]

#marcusmumford #Brighton : #Chalk. The last leg 3.12.22

Well. What a few weeks it has been. Can’t really believe it’s all over. As per the end of any tour. Let the memories find their space and the joy live on.

Brighton by train on a Saturday. Not beyond the wit of man is it, but nearly beyond the wit of south western railways and then southern railways.

Can’t believe they cancelled the extra 5 carriages and at Bournemouth and made all those who got on for LONDON now ride cattle class standing up in the aisles riding shotgun behind the person in front. It was pretty poor. A change at Southampton saw chaos as another 100 travellers wanted to get on. But were turned away. Can’t believe my joy that after all these years I spotted entering Totton, on the side of a large building Peter Mumford and Sons flour mills 1885. Google it!!

Second leg, started well, but 8 stops were cancelled due to the training being late!!! I mean ok for me again but goodness me that’s poor isn’t it.

Brighton be still my beating heart. It’s been too long. The North Lanes. The graffiti / murals on the buildings, the winding lanes, the independent shops, the vintage shops. I was in seventh heaven. Kid in a candy store!!

Although only 4 degrees a walk on the pier, and the sound of pebbles under your feet is a must.

Lunch in the vegan cafe. So good. Pea and kale burger 💯 winner.

Chalk. The understated lost venue. Squint and you’ll find it in Brighton.

Only a short time queuing due to the extreme temperature outside. But always meaningful.

Passer by group number

1. Is this a strip club? Who you waiting for?

Passer by number 2. Who you waiting for ….. is he the comedian?

Met an amazing lady, visiting Brighton in memory and in spirit of her late daughter. I’ll say no more, but we’re thinking of you. And she would have loved every second of the show. Her spirit lives on. Xx #forever

Show time TBC on the tickets. 8pm ish on the email. 8.35pm in real time. Packed crowd. At the front was the photographer that has always been around Sussex, shaved head and impressive hipster beard. Many times I’ve seen him. Always remember seeing him at the Lewes stopover covered in chalk dust head to toe post colour chalk battle. I found the photo!! Look out for his pictures.

General summary. Soaking it all in as this is the last one. 🥹. MM Outfit change. Long black trousers and black boots. Gone are the white socks and pumps. Well it is 2 degrees outside. Wise choice.

We got 50 mins of Musial joy. Mixed in with good banter.

:Still operating as an elite squad since the band left them in Dublin.

:What day of the week is it. We were very quiet for a Saturday night in Brighton was it because the poppers hadn’t kicked in yet.

:Tour strap lines, “do you want a line”. As in Liverpool at the tour bus a Liverpudlian came up and asked them!!! Later during the show, you know who you are, a Liverpudlian shouted “do you want a line” sing I’m in fire… you don’t ask you don’t yet. To much hilarity for Marcus who said it made his evening!!

:Some crowd feedback that they couldn’t hear him. “Well you should have come earlier”.

:MFT: roadie talk for my first tour. Rookie error . The way the guitar was tuned for The Cave, (tuned by MM) was way too high, but once you’re in you’re in right??? :You still nailed it.

:C*nt chat

:Reincarnation…. ❤️

:I will wait , Mixing it up by asking if he could stand on the bar so that the back could hear him off mic. Only to find that the ceiling wasn’t that high so opting for sitting on the bar. Always a winner.

:Marcus catching a flight to New York today.

:Signing off with see you soon. We hope so.

:lady at end asking for the mug that MM had been drinking from…. Confirmation that it was Green Tea.

A joyful evening of course over too soon. Leaving the crowd wanting more. Back out into the chilly winter winds. Anyone for a five guys? 👋. Post Tour diet starts today.

Set list:

Only Child

Dangerous Game

Awake my soul

Go in light

Better off high

The Cave

Cowboy

Reincarnation

Grace

How

I will wait

(I think)

[nunchiimagines]

Pied Piper: 3

— Summary: You’re a recent grad who was given the dream opportunity to intern abroad in South Korea. When you moved into a small, somewhat homely, apartment complex in Gangnam, you were pleasantly surprised to have become neighbors with 7 very intriguing, very charming, very handsome young men. You weren’t expecting them to have become so attached to you so quickly and that’s probably because you’re actually their reincarnated soulmate. To make matters even more convoluted, they’re also part of the mafia, they’re demons, and they’re heir to the throne of the underworld. Who’d thought that your once normal life would change so drastically over the course of such a short time?

— Pairing: demon lord! mafia boss! bts x poc! curvy! intern! reader

— Genre: super fluff / poly!au / mafia!au / demon!au / soft yandere!au / soulmate! au

— Status: On Going

— Warnings: erotic thoughts, fluff, flirting, nothing really lol

— Word Count: 3.2k

~MASTERPOST~

CHAPTERS: Prev - Next

**AUTHORS NOTE**

Chapter 3!! Not sure how I fully feel about this one but it’s done. Taking a break because posting multiple days in a row has wore me out lol. I’ll come back ti edit because there are points I feel “meh” on but oh well!

Please enjoy!!

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Since your introduction to 5 of the 7 brothers you’d heard so much about, they had become exceedingly affectionate towards you. You started seeing them frequently, even more than you usually had. You were far from complaining, but you’d be lying if you couldn’t admit that it made your heart flutter a bit too much for your liking. You hadn’t ever received so much attention from differing guys before, especially those who far exceeded the current beauty standards. You often questioned if you deserved such treatment, usually brushing off any intruding thought of their devoted gestures being more than just friendly.

That morning, you had woken up a bit later than usual. You had the day off and were hoping to spend it by becoming accustomed to the area. After freshening up and getting dressed, you made your way out into the hallway and down the staircase. You had every intention of reaching the first floor until you heard a lovely acoustic tune coming from the end of the hallway on the second floor. Has there always been a music room?

Your curiosity got the best of you and you followed after it. The melody got louder and louder the farther you walked, indicating you were getting closer to its source. When you reached the window peering inside, you saw a young man there playing the acoustic guitar. You had never seen him before and became entranced. Not only was he doing a magnificent job with the instrument but the way the sun outlined him in a golden glow made him look far more ethereal than he already was.

You were staring so intently and so wrapped up in your own thoughts, you failed to realize he stopped playing and was gazing back at you. When you finally did take notice, you began panicking. You internally screamed at yourself and desperately tried to come up with your next course of action without looking any more creepy than you already came off. The man could spot your struggle easily and just chuckled, waving you inside. You reluctantly complied, blush forming on your face as you entered.

MIN YOONGI

“So…?” he questioned aloud.

You paused for a brief moment, unsure of what he wanted from you. He caught on to your confusion and smiled.

“Was the music nice or do you normally stare at strangers?” he asked.

“N-No! Oh my god no! I’m sorry, I can explain! I heard you playing and got curious! I had no clue there was a music room in this building. When I followed the sound, I spotted you and kinda got sucked into your playing. I’m sorry for being rude, I don’t know what I was thinking. It was a very lovely tune though!”

Yoongi knew exactly what was happening and just chuckled. The Pied Piper always entrances those who hear him play, this was no different. But seeing you so flustered was entertaining to say the least.

“I’m only teasing. Thank you for the compliment though. I’m still getting used to the guitar but haven’t quite figured it out fully.” he said.

“Oh wow, you could’ve fooled me! I thought you sounded pretty amazing. But if this is still something you’re learning, I can only imagine what the future holds.” you praised once more.

“I think you’re giving me far too much credit, but your words are much appreciated.”

Yoongi tried to hide the creeping blush, your compliments making him turn shy and nervous. Especially seeing as they came directly from you of all people, it was making it hard for him to look you in the eye.

“I’m serious. I wish I could’ve heard you play sooner. It’s...comforting. Like I could let all my worries go. I don’t think I’m explaining it well enough. But sometimes I think that’s how music should be. It can invoke feelings I don’t think words could ever truly describe and it’s okay to not be able to. Even if I don’t know what’s being said or even what it means, it always finds a way to make me feel. That’s what makes it so special. I’m not exactly a music buff but I really do enjoy it. It actually helps me get my creative juices flowing!”

Yoongi paused for a moment, really studying you up close. Something about what you said struck a chord with him. Yoongi loves music, they all do. Most of their pride is stored in music, something so far ingrained in them that they could never step away from it even if they tried. Not everyone can understand the devotion one has for the things they love and yet here you are pinning down the exact way he feels. Music doesn’t need to be explained, understood, or dissected. Music just needs to be felt and shared, even if the words aren’t that of your motherland. You were good. Too good. And he was definitely hooked.

“You are far more interesting than you led on.” he said with a soft smile.

You blinked several times, trying to understand if that was a good or bad thing.

“I use this room the most but I’ve been gone for a while. I think you had moved in during then and that’s probably why you were unaware of its existence.” he explained, changing the topic.

“That makes sense! Well, I’m glad you returned safely and...Oh! I almost forgot! My name is (Y/N), it’s a pleasure to meet you.” you announced, bowing to him.

Yoongi smiled at you, taking advantage of your brief moment of looking away from him to admire your beauty. Damn you were cute. It didn’t take long to see why his brothers fell like dominos around you. Your entire being was addictive.

“Yoongi. It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Yoongi?” you questioned more to yourself.

He looked at you, waiting for you to continue but you never did. This felt like deja vu all over again. Where had you heard that name? This was happening far more frequently than you cared to admit and it was bugging you that you couldn’t pinpoint the correct answer. Yoongi watched with an amused glint in his eye, observing your furrowed brow and scrunched up nose. Were you always this expressive to the public? It was entertaining, adorable even.

“Oh! Yoongi!! Jimin’s Yoongi!” you exclaimed excitedly.

Yoongi’s face fell. What the hell did that mean?

“I’m sorry what?” he questioned.

“You’re the second oldest! Min Yoongi, right? That makes so much sense! Jimin first introduced you as ‘Our Yoongi’ and said you were away on a business trip! You were with Jungkook and…” you said trailing off, cocking your head to ponder again.

“That would be me.” a voice called out, catching the two of you by surprise.

KIM NAMJOON

When you turned around you were staring at a man with the body of a god. You mentally had to stop yourself from looking at his exposed arms, his attire indicating he had just recently finished a workout session. He was tall, slick from his sweat, and had a nice golden glow to him. What the fuck? This was cruel. Was the universe trying to destroy you today?

In his hand was an iced caffeinated drink. Yoongi practically pounced on it, happily taking the beverage and sipping on it. You watched him, finding his actions adorable. He kinda looked like a cat when he did that and it was cute. The rising smile was evident and Namjoon had the luxury of observing it without your knowledge. He actually had the luxury of observing all of you and dare I say he was very pleased.

You turned back to Namjoon, beaming up at him now.

“Hello, my name’s (Y/N), it’s an honor to finally meet all of you.”

Namjoon chuckled, not only with what you said but also at the fact you were clearly struggling with your rising blush and curious eyes. The others did say you get flustered easily and it was hard not to coo over you. They were definitely right about that, among many other things too. But their descriptions of your beauty, your true beauty, were lacking. No words could ever describe how these 7 men see you. How they’ve always seen you. Having been in separation for so long, finally having you presented in front of them as you are now was like staring at a goddess. Your innocent doe eyes, your beautifully sunkissed skin, your soft curvaceous figure, your locks that crowned your head; all of it was hypnotic. All of it was pure. All of it was something they wanted to taint so lovingly, so viciously, so intimately. You were their life and their ruin.

“Namjoon, likewise. My brothers speak very highly of you. I’m happy such a positive influence has entered our lives.”

You took note of the way Namjoon spoke to you, almost like he was in charge of the others. You found that a tad bit odd given he was the 4th oldest according to Taehyung. Maybe you were reading too far into it. Yeah, that’s probably it.

“That’s my line. You’ve all helped me out quite a bit! It took me some time to get used to the transportation systems, the street signs, the scammers, and the cultists. Jungkook showed me the best street vendors and Seokjin explained which times to go to which convenient stores to avoid crowds. Hoseok offered many shortcuts I could take to get to my destination fast and Taehyung and Jimin are always giving me a helping hand here or around the area. There’s honestly too much to count how many times I was assisted. I feel so lucky I got to meet you all so soon after arriving here.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Does that mean you like it here in Korea so far?” Namjoon asked with a dimpled smile.

Your eyes lit up, your inner child showing itself on full display. You raved on and on about your admiration for many cultures but how none impacted you more than South Korea. You explained what it was that inspired you and how much in depth research you’ve done on the history and current trends. Your determination and intelligence was showing and it more than made you look more attractive to Namjoon.

He admired your need to learn about their culture. In fact, he loved that. A new found respect was growing for you, followed closely by his fondness. He could tell Yoongi felt the same way, having overheard your conversation about music. Plus his face gave it away even more so now, with the way his eyes held a surprise look as he continued to hear you speak so passionately.

“I’m sorry...I must sound like I’m rambling.” you giggled sheepishly.

“No, it’s nice to hear someone speak so passionately about our culture. It fills me with pride to be honest. To know that there are people out there who care enough to learn about us feels good, for lack of a better word.” Namjoon admitted with a bashful smile, rubbing the back of his neck shyly.

“I think it’s far more normal than you think.” you said playfully hitting his arm without thinking.

It was only supposed to be a friendly gesture to ease someone's embarrassment or to lighten the tension in a conversation. However, in that moment it became something entirely unexplainable. As soon as the back of your hand made contact with Namjoon's arm, something surged inside your body.

It struck up your arm, down your abdomen, and straight to your toes. It wasn’t painful, just sudden and unfamiliar. Once the initial shock wore off, your heart began to race, your face felt flushed, and your stomach tickled. Your legs were like jelly and your knees got weak. The first audible thing out of your mouth was an elongated sensual moan.

Namjoon and Yoongi were immediately put on high alert, concerned for your sudden pained expression. Namjoon reached out to grip your forearms, hoping he could steady your staggering figure. But as soon as he did that, another moan escaped your lips. Namjoon froze, his eyes turning into an instant crimson shade upon hearing your throaty pants. It was then he realized you weren’t in pain, you were aroused. Very. Aroused.

Yoongi could smell it too. That oddly familiar yet unfamiliar scent leaking from between your legs. Oh how that alone sent him over the edge. By that point Yoongi had discarded his sweatshirt, the heat making him lose his cool. He witnessed how you were about to fall over and grabbed for the closest thing he could grip; your hips. Another moan left your lips and you unintentionally bucked back into his crotch. Yoongi had to tighten his hold on you, stopping your movements before he too lost control.

“Namjoon, what the hell is happening?” Yoongi asked through gritted teeth.

“I-I don’t know. It’s like every time we touch her, she loses control. I don’t even think she knows what she's doing.” Namjoon interpreted.

“I don't know how much longer I have before I lose it next. What do we do? We can’t just leave her here, but the more we touch her the harder it becomes for all of us.”

Namjoon needed a minute to think but that was far harder given their current circumstances. He thought back to when they reached out to the elder mage, the woman who put them in this newly formed life. And then it dawned on him. The soulmate bond.

“It...It has to be our bond. Our soulmate bond. S-She said that...after she meets all 7 of us...she’ll start to feel the side effects too. This has to be it. If nothing else, this has to prove she’s...she’s the one.” Namjoon shuttered out.

“D-Damnit, I want her so bad.” Yoongi whined.

“We have to keep it under control. Set her down, gently. Grab something to cool her off with. She’s burning up.” Namjoon instructed.

They did just that, placing your squirming figure on the carpeted floor before grabbing some magazines and loose papers to start fanning you. Your weird haze had started to calm down, your body temperature decreasing as you began to regain control over your ragged breathing. When you opened your eyes, you were met with both a concerned looking Namjoon and Yoongi. What just happened? You were so confused and so tired.

“Yoon..gi? Namjoon?” you asked, blinking your eyes to clear your vision.

“You okay?” Yoongi asked.

“You scared us there for a minute.” Namjoon stated.

“What happened? Did I pass out?” you asked with slight concern.

“I think you’ve been overworking yourself. Jimin had said that you’d been coming home later and later.” Yoongi said.

He hated not being fully honest but at the same time he wasn’t wrong. Arielle had gone back home to France, the incident at the nightclub having messed with her more than she’d led on. However, you and Jiwoo were still in need for the project and you both had to take up her role. The design company was breathing down your back to get this project done, more than elated that a crucial member had left so suddenly. That meant you both were required to work longer hours and it really had been tiring you out.

Everyone was well aware who your boss was, thanks to Seokjin might I add, and the thought of his...inappropriate management over you was really starting to grate heavily on their nerves. They were going to deal with that later. Right now, their priority was you.

“I’m...sorry...for being such an inconvenience to you both. I feel...so horrible.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” Namjoon encouraged.

“We’re just glad you’re okay.” Yoongi added.

You sat up, their eyes on you each step of the way. You rubbed your head slightly before turning to the nearest person to thank them once more. That happened to be Yoongi. But instead of doing what you were initially planning to do, your eyes caught sight of Yoongi’s bare arms. Were they always exposed like that? Were they always that muscular??? Your eyes lingered a tad bit longer than intended and you quickly turned your head away from him. The blush was forming full force and the heat followed quickly afterwards.

You never meant to assume but Yoongi was so bundled up in a hoodie and sweats that you failed to realize just how toned he was. You could tell he was lean but you never realized how defined he was. You wondered if more of his body was that way. If Namjoon was similar. If any of them were….No. You had to stop these thoughts. You were going to ruin yourself thinking like this. There’s no way you had a chance...right?

Namjoon must’ve taken notice of your darkened face, a solemn look present. What were you thinking so intently about while looking so...sad?

“Maybe you should lie down.” Namjoon suggested.

“Would you like us to escort you back to your room?”

You smiled sweetly at them both, at first going to decline. But something inside of you begged you to say yes. And that’s what you did. What could hurt? Namjoon helped you up, taking note that you didn’t react violently this time. Yoongi observed closely too, keeping his eye trained on anything that stood out to him that seemed out of the ordinary, or, as out of the ordinary as it could be given they’d only known you the past hour or so. When all seemed fine, they walked you back to the 3rd floor and to your room.

“Thank you both again. I think I really have been overworked lately. It’s too bad though, I was hoping to spend the time roaming around.” you said with a pout.

Just then, a sudden thought popped into his head.

“When you feel well rested, we can take you out in the area for the evening.” Namjoon offered.

Those pretty eyes of yours lit up with an energetic glint. You couldn’t help the rising smile and the youthful glow radiating your soft features.

“A-Are you sure? Do either of you mind?” you asked once more for clarification.

Namjoon chuckled and Yoongi smiled.

“Yeah, we’d love to. Plus, think of it as thanks for looking out for you.” Yoongi added.

“I’m sure the others would love to tag along too. If that’s cool with you.” Namjoon

“I’d very much love that actually! Just give me a couple of hours to get this headache gone and I’ll contact you all.”

You all agreed and went your separate ways. The two lingered a bit longer to ensure you made it to bed safely before making their way down the hall. They reached a communal lounge room where the other 5 members were sitting in wait. When Namjoon and Yoongi took their seats to settle, it was Namjoon who spoke up first.

“I think we need to discuss...something very important,” he announced.

“Is it about…” Jimin started, trailing off while fiddling with his fingers.

“...(Y/N). It’s about (Y/N) right?” Seokjin asked, gliding his hand through his hair.

“She’s totally our soulmate.” Hoseok scoffed, taking a swig from his scotch cup.

“Yeah...she is.” Namjoon confirmed.

“What do we do now?” Jungkook questioned, cocking his head curiously.

“That’s what we need to discuss, correct?” Taehyung assumed with a sigh.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Yoongi admitted.

“We need to contact the elder mage. Immediately. She’ll know exactly what to do.”

And with that, they continued their discussion into the late evening, constructing the best course of action to finally make this work. To officially call you theirs.

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[cno-inbminor]

iterum vivere (childe/tartaglia)

a/n: wow, it’s been fucking forever. first genshin fic featuring childe/tartaglia!!! a very huge thank you to @suspensin​ for reading this over and being my rock and support, and i love her so fucking much. I couldn’t have finished this without her!

plot: reincarnation and modern/uni!au ft. afab reader!traveler with she/they pronouns x childe/tartaglia 

-- in which meeting childe is a bit of a dangerous game of push and pull

wc: 12.1k; angst + fluff

warnings:  DOES CONTAIN IN-GAME SPOILERS (1.5? 1.6? + story quest and idek) and NSFW MENTIONS (mdni to be safe). there’s no explicit smut but thoughts do run a bit wild here and there

EDIT: Altered ChiLumi version now posted on AO3 here!

“Haven’t we met before?”

The shine in your eyes does nothing to hide your curiosity, head even tilting a little in observation. He watches them scan his face for any recognizable features, but attempts to focus on the strange, taut string of déjà vu that pulls him toward you. In a moment of absentmindedness, he had heard a faint voice call out his name from your direction. Confusion overtook him as you weren’t looking at him, but something inside his brain said that it had to be from you. And so his feet redirected his path towards your figure in the student union building, as if on a mission.

“A fucking whale, Childe?”

Oh.

“I don’t think so…?” You trail off, curiosity now replaced by perplexed feelings. “Do we have a class together?”

I think I would’ve noticed you by now if you were.

“Ah, what’s your major?” Childe asks quickly to avoid listening to the little voice in his head.

“History and anthropology, you?”

“Economics, but I’ve taken a history course for core credits. Maybe it was then?”

“With Dr. Zhong?”

“Yes!” He snaps his fingers. Part of his brain decides to usefully function and scan his memories to see if he remembers your face or head of hair in the lecture hall then. “Last year? Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10 to 11:20?”

“Actually, yeah,” you affirm in surprise. You think you would remember the relatively attractive ginger in your class, but honestly, it had all been such a blur and you were often pretty sleepy during class. Dr. Zhong didn’t quite appreciate it, but you made up for it with your exam and essay grades, as well as paying better attention in some of his other courses.

“Did you need me for anything?”

“I’d like for you to come visit and meet my family.”

He’s really not appreciating this extra voice speaking for him.

“Well…uh…” Childe stammers and looks away sheepishly, hand rubbing the back of his neck. He honestly had no reason for approaching you, and now, he just looks like a desperate idiot. Think quick, he tells himself, floundering for some shitty excuse.

“I wanted to, uh, take another history course as an elective and um, wanted to know if you had any recommendations?”

“Oh,” you blink. That’s a first. When he meets your gaze, the swirling shades of sapphire strike something deep within you. Flashes of events you can’t make out go by in the blink of an eye, but then you realize you’ve been staring for too long. Blood rushes to your cheeks because you don’t exactly want this guy to get the wrong idea from you, because how are you supposed to explain, “I’m sorry, but I think we have met before, but just a really, really long time ago, and we might’ve been more than just acquaintances because that’s what it feels like?”

“I think you’d like Teyvat Mythology,” your voice wavers on the verge of cracking. “Dr. Zhong might have a TA this time around, but Xiao’s a great teacher. Doesn’t have long, rambling anecdotes, but explains things well and gets straight to the point.”

“C-cool, I’ll look into it,” Childe replies and smiles brightly. “I’ll head out then,” jabbing a thumb over his shoulder, where he just realized he left a grouchy Scaramouche waiting by a vending machine, newly purchased Starbucks Tripleshot drink in hand. “Nice seeing you, (y/n).”

He scurries off before you both realize that you never told him your name.

“Who’s that?” Scaramouche asks, jutting his chin in your vague direction.

“Someone from my Intro to Liyuean History course last year,” Childe waves off. “Come on, let’s go before the line at the pasta bar gets too long.”

-

The next time you see Childe is by accident, traversing across an open field of grass that many students like to sit out on to relax with friends, sunbathe, hold events, or play casual team sports if room permits.

You had your earbuds in and were scrolling through social media when laughter rang above all other sound, causing your head to snap up and swivel around to find the source. And while it might’ve been strange to an outsider, your steps immediately slowed as you watched the man of your tiring, vivid dreams sprint in your direction, eyes pinned on a frisbee heading towards him.

He’s wearing a grey sports tank and basketball shorts, headband holding back his bangs as he makes a slight jump in the air to catch the plastic disc between his palms. His feet plant into the grass as he looks for someone to pass it to, and you watch (with embarrassment) the muscles in his throwing arm relax and tighten with practice, frisbee steadily soaring through the air in a beautiful arc towards a teammate. He then lightly jogs to get closer to his group, but then his back stiffens.

Before your instincts kick in for you to turn and bail, he looks over his shoulder and stares straight at your now stunned self.

The sole ruby earring that glints in the sunlight catches your attention, and you recall your dreams of terrifyingly dark, violet electric power, blades of water rushing toward you, and then the stomach-churning sensation of falling from great heights pours concrete into your veins—

Childe looks a little amused for having your sole focus, hand lifting up for a quick wave. And as you numbly return the greeting, your heart beats out, “Run from him.”

And so with the flight response pulsing and firing from your synapses, you abruptly speed walk away, almost breaking out into a sprint towards your dorm. You ignore his pointed, confused look, and pretend you don’t feel the two holes of imaginary fire searing into your back. It isn’t until you’re laying back in bed that you release a huge sigh of relief and pray to a deity you don’t believe in that those eyes of mirth will not haunt you tonight.

But of course, with a deity that doesn’t exist, the prayers go unanswered.

-

“Do you believe in any of the mythology you teach?” You ask Xiao about a few days later when you stop by his cubicle. Luckily, no one else is around for this conversation, and Xiao has always been kind enough to humor your thoughts. Granted, he might feel obligated because you had asked Dr. Zhong to be your advisor for your undergraduate Honors thesis, and Xiao was directed to be your receiver of some general questions and source of information if he wasn’t around.

A quick scan of your complexion tells Xiao everything he needs to know. Your eyes are overtaken with rumination and exhaustion, haziness clouding them as you seem to ponder over your own question. It’s not often that you ask him anything not related to your thesis or coursework.

“Perhaps there’s some sense and truth to the tales passed down,” he softly muses. “What makes you ask?”

You lift yourself to sit on the clean area next to his computer, legs slowly swaying back and forth. “It might sound crazy but...I’ve been having dreams lately. They feel too real, too natural to be anything that my mind would make up. I’ve never had the most creative imagination by any means, which is why there’s some comfort to me being a history major, but I can’t shake these.”

“So why ask me about the mythology?”

“...the Archons are there. I even dreamt that I met the Geo and Anemo Archons. And they controlled various elements, just like we were taught.”

You don’t notice that Xiao has ceased his rapid typing, fingers hovering over the keyboard before one hand removes his glasses from his face. He uses the other to rub his eyes and softly pinch the bridge of his nose before sliding the frames back on. Dark, golden amber eyes survey you as you grapple with the unfathomable possibilities of your nightly visions, at least until you shake your head in disbelief at yourself and lightly scoff.

“Who am I kidding?” You ask no one in particular. “Maybe I’ve been doing too much research and everything’s mixing together.”

“You’re ahead of schedule, if that provides any consolation.”

“Some.”

-

It takes Childe a grand total of one minutes and 53 seconds to sign up for Teyvat Mythology for the spring semester.

-

WInter in Liyue is only slightly miserable, being so close to the ocean. It’s chillier than usual on this dreary day, yet something compelled you to exit your dorm and shakily make your way to the campus coffee shop for a warm drink. Coffee, hot chocolate, you haven’t quite decided yet, but just as you let yourself bask in the warm building, familiar ginger hair and blue eyes wash away the comfort.

Or do they douse you in security?

They remind you of your recent dreams that now have shifted away from stress and violence to easygoing summer days by the oceanside, running barefoot in the sand while collecting beautifully patterned azure starconches. Sometimes, you thrust a hand towards an oversized four-leaf clover on a wooden stake with the power of wind and catch yourself in the air, soaring and looking around to find more of the little shells. Other nights, they consist of climbing steep cliffs, only to sit at the edge in the clouds with fatigue wracking through your system and marvel at the view before you.

Someone’s always with you though, ruby earring and maroon mask and cobalt blue gem hanging from the waist, sprinting with you, playfully tackling you down, pulling you up towards mountain peaks, laying their head on your shoulders, brushing their lips against your cheek--

You welcome the change of peace in those dreams, but only because they don’t leave you quite as tired the next day, as if you’d been avoiding an inescapable dark force.

Part of you wants the burning question of why this person, this man, in all his glory and brightness, affects you so fucking much when you barely even know the guy -- why looking at him sends your heart to lodge itself in your esophagus, why your lungs feel like they’re so close to being completely collapsed under the weight of his stare, why feeling like you’re trapped and  caught between wanting to run towards yet away from him.  It makes no sense, and you’re tired of trying to make sense of anything you don’t exactly want to remember from your dreams for some, once again, inexplicable reason.

But there’s no time to think as he quickly ambles towards you, your own feet shuffling forward to meet him in a warped reference of a distance that constitutes to “the middle” before you can stop yourself. Your shivering hasn’t quite stopped yet, and Childe seems to take notice of it.

“Pretty cold out there,”  he softly states. It’s cute, the way you’re curling in on yourself to retain some warmth.

“Y-yeah, not sure why I decided I really needed something warm to drink right now,” you reply and avoid his gaze. He watches you peer over his shoulder to squint at the menu display hanging from the ceiling, seemingly contemplating on what you should get.

“How about I get yours today? My treat for your class recommendation last time.” Anything to keep you here longer. Childe doesn’t realize how much he’s missed you, which confuses him, and chooses to ignore the fact that he’d been camping himself at the study tables in the building where the history department is located in hopes of even just catching a quick glimpse of you.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you immediately attempt to subvert his generous offer, hands shooting out from your jacket pockets and waving in rejection. “It was nothing.”

“Please?” Childe puts on his best puppy eyes before reaching for one of your wrists, gently tugging you to the register. “Just this once?”

You want so badly to squash the tiny flare of disappointment that erupts in your chest from the newly acquired knowledge that this was just a one time thing. Do econ majors hate to feel in debt? That they must be even with everyone, or would rather have people indebted to them than the other way around?

There’s no time to think when Childe gives the cashier his order before turning to you, and without wanting to waste anyone’s time, you rattle off your usual beverage. He’s quick in fishing out his student ID to spend some of his campus currency, shooting you a boyish grin when you pout at your half-opened wallet.

“Go take that table over there,” he says, pointing to one in the corner by some windows. “I’m gonna tell my friends to go on without me.”

“I didn’t mean to intrude or pull you away from them,” you slightly panic. The sooner you can leave, the better. Right? “You don’t need to sit with me, I was just gonna head back to my dorm.”

“I insist. Go ahead, I’ll be right there.”

Why your brain takes his orders over your own is a mystery in and of itself, because before you know it, you’re plopped down in one of the lounge seats and staring off into space, mind reeling over the last two minutes. You pretend you can’t hear the way Childe’s friends nudge his arm playfully with their shoulders, wiggling their eyebrows suggestively as Childe tries to get them to stop being nonsensical.

“You’re gonna scare them off,” he hisses at them, hands pushing at their backs so they could finally leave him to his devices.

“Not before you do!” One of them laughs and Childe groans at their antics. “All right, all right, we’ll go. They’re cute though, might steal them if you don’t make a move.”

The darkening of the aura surrounding Childe is too quick for them to fully process, not before he dampens any of their fleeting hopes with a, “Don’t even fucking think about it.”

But it disappears just as fast when his and your drinks are called out, and he gives them one last shove before retrieving your to-go cups. Childe directs all his focus towards the seat diagonally from yours as opposed to the one that’s straight across, and you’re sharply ripped away from whatever reverie you let yourself slip into.

“Thank you,” you murmur, hands cupping the drink and feeling the heat seep into your fingertips. “You really didn’t have to, it was nothing big.”

“Can you blame me for just trying to find an excuse to finally talk to you?” He asks without a skip and you can’t tell if the quickening of your heartbeat is from a looming sense of doom or excitement. Those eyes, the tiny swirls of the ocean, blue like those shells buried in the sand--

It takes three seconds too long for you to understand where he was going with in his words, and part of you feels unamused at his smooth talking. You’ve always guarded yourself against guys like Childe, devilishly handsome who know their way around language semantics, ready to pull you in and just as ready to push you away. That (possibly unfair) bias, coupled with everything else you’ve been feeling for him, sounded the alarms and set the walls up around your heart. Perhaps you need to stop wearing your heart on your sleeve, because Childe immediately retracts his forwardness.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I promise I’m not looking for anything in return and you don’t owe me anything, but I really did just...want to sit and talk and...get to know you?” Childe trails off a little towards the end. Your body loosens up and relaxes just a tiny bit, feeling bad for your snap judgment. Let the guy do something nice, don’t look into it too much, you tell yourself. It’s a coffee, not a five-course dinner.

You reach out a hand towards him, small smile across your lips, ready for his to join yours in a quick handshake. “I’m (y/n), senior history and anthropology double major. It’s nice to meet you.”

The pounding of your heart against your ribcage has nothing to do with the shimmering of his eyes, nothing to do with the fact that his hand fits with yours just right, and nothing to do with the fact that an eerily similar voice from your dreams whispers, “I love you.”

You learn a number of things about Tartaglia in the four hours, like his family members and their respective interests, which classes he did and didn’t enjoy taking, certain takes on Schnezhnayan politics, his own various hobbies, crazy accidents from the occasional college parties, and more. He’s a bit of an open book, probably telling you way more than any regular person would, and definitely more than anything you revealed during all this time. Everything you tell him seems surface level, nothing too deep. The walls are still there to protect you from the unexplainable, profound feelings his presence seems to elicit, and luckily, he doesn’t prod any further. Childe feels the resistance and respects it, which just adds more brownie points in your book, and you almost feel bad for having given so little in return.

“I wish we were taking Teyvat Myth together,” he sighs when walking you back to your dorm, hands stuffed in his pockets. His ruby earring catches the light from the sunset, the shade almost complimentary to the golden amber rays that streak across the sky. “Would’ve helped having a history major in there.”

“Is that all I am to you, an answer bank?” You jokingly ask, but he watches concerningly as you shoot your gaze to the ground, mindfully stepping over the cracks between concrete slabs.

“Of course not,” a gentle sincerity reaches you, giving you the confidence to make eye contact with him. “I’m sorry for making it sound like that, it wasn’t my intention. I really just meant it as a way of saying if the professor or TA ended up being a total bore, then well, having you would make it more fun.”

“I’m sure I’d bore you even more,” chuckling, speeding up to get away. You’re growing too comfortable in whatever atmosphere Childe has created, like an enclosed air bubble bobbing gently in the depths of the sea and letting the waves carry you both to whichever ends of the earth.

“Hey,” he interjects, hand reaching out to stop you with a soft yank of your wrist. There is no resisting force from you, feet stepping backward until he meets you eye to eye. It’s unfair in the way that he can render you motionless by standing just an inch from you, arms brushing with his head tilted closer to your own. “Seriously, I’m glad we did this today. Are you?”

No, because now I don’t know what to think, I don’t know who you are, I’m not any closer to figuring out why you terrify yet leave me so enamoured with you, I’m torn between punching and kissing you and--

“Yes,” you subconsciously answer, brain immediately short-circuiting to scold yourself. “I had fun.”

His grin, charming, devilish, is so so bright, bright enough to rival the Liyue sun that sits on the pier, on the edge of the ocean, bright enough to rival the love that your fraternal twin showers you with on a daily basis. You want time to stop right here because you’re almost sick of the voice settled deep within your heart that screams, “Don’t get comfortable, you must run from him!”

“Good. Let’s do this again?” And you nod, of course you do. Foolish you. “Don’t be a stranger!” He calls out as he turns on his heel and waves over his shoulder, hand raised in the air, and you’re suddenly transported to another scene, a less refined version of the Liyue Harbor, watching as the head of ginger hair with a red mask in a flashier attire of grey and maroon walks away from you and onto a roaring, magnificent ship; big, ivory sails only seen in books and museums. It’s the same gesture of “see you later”, and just before he turns, you blink, and you’re back to seeing your campus again.

But Childe does look back once, warm and content that you’re still standing there, watching over him, and he can’t help but think about when he can spend time with you again, because suddenly, it truly feels like there’s not enough of it anymore.

-

“Excuse me, what’s a Red Bull?”

The last thing, or person rather, you expect to see on the last day of finals for the fall semester, is a small boy who looks way too young to be here, tugging on the sleeve of your windbreaker. He’s at most eleven, ten maybe, but he has eerily similar characteristics, as well as an accent that doesn’t quite belong to most Liyue natives. Still gathering your bearings from your own perusing of the fridges that hold all the possible beverages a college student could consume, you kneel down until you’re at eye level with the child.

“Repeat that for me? Are you looking for a Red Bull, you say?”

“Yes!” He beams and holds out a student ID that most definitely doesn’t belong to him. “My brother asked me to grab him one because he was busy with something.”

Your eyes flit over to the top shelves where the aforementioned cans of caffeine are located, and definitely too high for someone of his height to reach. “I’ll grab one for you. Did he ask for a specific flavor?”

“Nope, he said regular. Thanks, you’re really nice! Do you know my brother?” He asks, waving the ID at you so you can get a better look at the name. That’s definitely a face you recognize, but the name leaves you confused.

“Yeah, um,” glance over again, “I know...Ajax…”

“He’s the best toy seller in the whole world!”

Somehow, it suits him much better than Childe or Tartaglia, and you’re not quite sure what toys have anything to do with the matter at hand. Speaking of hands, the little boy grabs yours in sheer delight. “Can you take me back to his room? I kinda forgot the directions he told me, and everything’s so big around here.”

“Sure, just let me buy something, too, and I’ll take you.”

“Okay!”

The cashier isn’t the least bit fazed by the little brunette at your side -- it’s always common for family members to come in around the end of semesters to pick up kids or visit, and being an open building with snacks and drinks and a stopping point of most tours, they’ve seen it all. You even let him pick out a bag of chips and a candy bar for himself for being so polite and not a complete menace, paying with your own campus currency.

Teucer, as you’ve learned in the last two minutes, likes to point out things and ask you questions. Luckily, you have answers to most of them and do your best to pad the time, enjoying the feeling of a tiny hand wrapped around three of your fingers. It’s sweet to any normal passerby, believing they’re witnessing an older sister doting on their little brother around the holidays, but to Childe, seeing the tender sweetness on your face as you nod along to whatever Teucer is rambling about to you, sets his heart aflame. He’s already constantly on the verge of wanting to hug and kiss you and never let go, but you haven’t made any indication that you could potentially like him back, and this is just torture.

“Look what they bought me!” Teucer shoves his rewards in Childe’s face as if he had extremely poor eyesight, and you can’t help but laugh a little as you set his Red Bull down on his desk, clutching your own preferred beverage while looking around his room. Finals must have gotten to him with the unusual lack of tidiness in the small space, some laundry strewn here and there, a couple boxes of eaten microwave dinners in the metal wire trash can, some textbooks left open and marked with more sticky notes than you’ve ever seen. You’d only been here once before to drop off some food that he desperately messaged you about, stuck doing a project that he just couldn’t step away from.

“Pretend you don’t see the mess,” Childe pleads, handing a kid tablet to his brother but holding on before Teucer can take it. “What do you say to our nice friend here for buying you these snacks?”

“Thank you!”

“It was nothing,” you shyly smile, ruffling his hair. “I enjoyed meeting you.”

“Wait, what’s your name again?”

“It’s (Y/n).”

“Okay, (y/n)! Wait…(y/n)..as in…”

Teucer trails off and gives a look to his brother, one that spells curiosity and trouble, before he grabs your hand and pulls you into a corner. Any movement Childe makes to leave his desk chair is immediately squashed by Teucer’s disapproval, and the older man is left to helplessly worry when you’re told to squat down so secrets can be whispered into your ear.

“He talks about you a lot whenever he calls home,” and you want to laugh at Tecuer’s attempt to sound as scandalous as possible. “All the time! I think he likes you, like, like like.”

Oh. Oh dear.

“What makes you say that?” You whisper back, indulging both yourself and him, yet also internally snickering at how troubled Childe looks.

“Sometimes, he video calls mama, but we’ll all sit around and talk, and whenever he’s talking about how he saw you or something, he just looks...happy. Really happy.”

The surprise on your face does nothing to settle Childe’s nerves and he’s about to start wringing his hands together. Whatever Teucer was telling you couldn’t be good, probably embarrassing, like the one time he unceremoniously fell on his ass while ice skating over a frozen lake, or when he tried fitting fifteen marshmallows in his mouth and nearly choked on them when their mother caught them in the act, or--

“I think he just thinks of me as a good friend,” you try to inform Teucer, not letting yourself get any semblance of hope. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“If you say so,” Teucer pouts. But then he stops whispering and bounds over back to his brother, grabbing the tablet before plopping down on the half-made bed.

“Look, I was overconfident and thought I could execute a perfect single loop on the ice, but there was a rock and I lost balance and--”

“I wasn’t being told any stories about you falling on ice, but do tell me more,” you chuckle and take some joy in watching the blush spread across his cheeks. It’s easy to tell that he’s mentally berating himself for jumping to conclusions.

“Well, first off, thanks for buying him all that, and my drink, too,” he sighs. “I spoil him enough as it is.”

“I can see why it’s hard not to,” you smile knowingly. “So is it just him here? Where’s the rest of your family?”

“Funny story, he somehow managed to convince my parents to let him come here on his own as his first ever plane flight, so I had to pick him up yesterday from the airport. He’s flying back with me tomorrow.”

“And the RA?” You ask with an eyebrow raised.

“Ah...well...what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him? Speaking of, what was Teucer whispering to you about?”

There’s a pensiveness that overtakes you when you look at Teucer again, who’s happily playing some sort of game and completely oblivious to the rest of his surroundings. You won’t, can’t, take his words to heart, and will take them with a grain of salt at most.

“Nothing important. Although I did learn something new...Ajax?”

“Say my name -- fuck, say it, please--”

“I guess cat’s out of the bag,” he chuckles and looks away, absolutely unaware of the flare of heat that swirls in your stomach from the fleeting vision just now. “I came up with other nicknames as a kid to seem cooler, and they just stuck with me. Plus, the business world is full of people who just want something from you, or just a transactional relationship. I’d rather not give my real name to them, if you know what I mean.”

“That’s fair,” you nod and lean to sit on the edge of his desk. A thought pops into your head and you turn the words over in your head like a washing machine on the spin setting, teeth gnawing on the flesh of your bottom lip. If Teucer hadn’t been in the room, he would’ve been this close to kissing you.

“But if it’s worth anything,” your voice slowly, softly starts, cautious and wary of your thoughts. “I think...Ajax suits you best.”

Curse fate. Curse the legendary Archons. Curse karma and deities and spirits because all he wants to do right now is stand and tower over you, trap you between himself and his desk so you can’t escape, take those pretty lips between his until they’re bruised and swollen because of him, hear you call out his name in the throes of pleasure so he can finally replace his fantasies with tangible memories. The unnatural, magnetic pull that draws him to you is unbearable now -- he feels like he’ll lose the last tendrils of his sanity if he doesn’t do something.

You can’t stop him from slowly reaching out to grab one of your hands, lifting it towards him until he’s close enough for you to feel his breath ghost over your knuckles. It sends a shiver down your spine and blood is pounding in your ears because you can’t begin to fathom what he’s thinking about while doing this, even more so when his lips make contact with your skin and your breath hitches, stuck in your throat as he languidly peeks at you beneath his eyelashes with a heated gaze, then lowly confessing, “My name sounds best when you say it.”

Good heavens.

It’s difficult to swallow and keep your composure, especially when Teucer yells out in glee over, what you can assume, beating something in his game, and Childe drops your hand. But his dilated pupils don’t retract in the slightest, refusing to let you look away so that maybe, you can understand what he’s trying to convey to you. He’s taking the first step because he’s terrible and can’t contain his self-control anymore, pushing the ball into your court, ready for you to either play or exit into the sidelines.

When you do blink, there’s a vision of your naked body wrapped around another, limbs clinging desperately to a sturdy and panting frame. Lips, much like the ones that have seared themselves onto your knuckles, are at your neck and sucking, biting, before moving to your ear and laying filthy words into them that drive you closer to the edge. It all happens so fast that you feel you’ve just experienced whiplash, yet also feeling secondhand embarrassment at how lewd some of these thoughts have been.

You can’t stay here any longer.

“I-I have to go,” spills off your tongue before you can really think about it. The way the haze shatters in his eyes is heartbreaking in its own way, but there’s no time for you to explain. Your brain is in overdrive and eager to run, run, run. It detects danger on all fronts, but you muster out a, “H-have a good break, come find me next semester, mmk?”

And you’re out the door with inhuman speed. When the door clicks shut, only then does Teucer look up from his screen and frown at the lack of your presence. “Where’d they go?”

Chlide doesn’t seem to hear him, and Teucer has never seen his big brother look so sad and confused before.

-

He holds on to that last tendril of hope, because mark his words, he will find you come January.

-

After about a week at home, enjoying the festive time with his family and mildly unconcerned about next year’s courses because that was a problem for another day, Childe has his first, crazy, nonsensical dream.

At least, that’s what he tells himself when he snaps awake and his body aches with exhaustion. Not only are his joints in agony, he also feels like he’s sporting unforeseen bruises, which makes absolutely no sense because he hasn’t done anything that would warrant them, no matter how much he and his brothers do some rough-housing. His night of sleep was all consumed by flashes and scenes of weapon fighting, lucid enough to remember feeling his arms flex and wield bows and double-headed polearms and being cognizant of all the enemies??? surrounding him. They ranged from deranged looking monsters, floating beings with soulless masks, and large humans in electricity-padded armor, to behemoth machines in the sky that could leave you within an inch of your life thanks to a drill for a hand?!

But what’s even worse is that you seem to have managed a deal with Morpheus himself and infiltrated his dreams. You were there, too, sometimes fighting with him, sometimes against him, much to his dismay, and while it was nice, he just didn’t get it. Why the friendliness and hostility? Why was there an anger that overtook him when looking directly at you, parrying your blade and sending harmful arcs of water toward your figure?

Why did he relish the fear in your eyes when he darted towards you with electricity cracking through the air?

There’s an overwhelming sensation now to grab his phone to text you and apologize -- for what, he can’t fathom and there are no words to accurately convey what he’s thinking. “Hey, sorry for wanting to kill you in my dream :( “? Or “Sorry for being a friend but then stabbing you in the back, but then being nice to you again”?

And the only thing that really made sense was the serenity and contentment that would course through his veins as the two of you danced around on ivory sandy beaches, picking up shiny blue starconches and taking down more weird creatures; the breathlessness when you would fall back into the water and re-emerge to reconfirm his beliefs that you were one of the most beautiful humans he’d ever laid his eyes on; the love--

Hold the fuck up.

He doesn’t love you. He likes you a whole lot and he’s severely and deathly attracted to you, but he doesn’t love you. Your existence has only been made known to him for about two months, and he didn’t really start talking to you until three weeks in. So no matter how comfortable he feels with you, no matter how much he wishes that you were sleeping peacefully next to him so his nights wouldn’t feel so lonely, it was too early, too hasty, to say that he loves you.

“I’ve been wondering, why didn’t you bring them home?” His mother asks him out of nowhere during breakfast, all to add to this extremely tumultuous roller-coaster morning he’s been having. All he wants to do is eat his bowl of milk and cereal, then potentially go back to sleep before fulfilling his promise to go with his siblings to the nearby skating rink. It takes everything in him to not choke on his spoon of grains.

“Agreed, didn’t you mention they didn’t really have any family to go back to and that the move to Liyue was semi-permanent?” His father chimes in, laying a quick peck on his wife’s temple. “It’s never fun to spend the holidays alone.”

“They would’ve felt like they were intruding,” Childe replies quietly, stabbing his bowl a few times before scooping up another spoonful of cereal to his mouth. “I know we’re friends, but we haven’t known each other for that long, and maybe they’d be uncomfortable because that’s a lot honestly…”

“You don’t know until you try,” his mother sings and pats him on the shoulder. “We do have a guest room after all.”

“For them and their twin?”

“And quite a comfortable futon with enough blankets.”

Childe smiles fondly at his parents’ kindness. He can only imagine what this winter break would’ve been like now -- you and your twin floating around, trying to help out with certain chores, sitting by the fireplace and watching TV, huddled up with mugs of hot chocolate, playing board games with everyone and engaging in all the shenanigans…

Laughing. Loving. Grinning. Basking.

Handing over one of his hoodies to you as a sick way of torturing yet blessing himself for seeing how lovely you look in his clothes, standing silently in the doorway as you attempt to help out with mealtimes next to his mother, watching you run around in the backyard and dodging his siblings’ snowballs while lodging a few of your own -- how wonderful it all would be.

But he squashes it down as quickly as possible, because you escaped his grasp. You ran away from his advances temporarily and even though you gave him permission to seek you out come the spring semester, he worries that you might take it back. Something will wake up inside of you to keep him out of your heart and your life, and he’s not confident enough at this point to believe there’s a good chance you will come spend the holidays with him and his family next year.

“Maybe next year, ma,” he sends her a hesitant, yet somewhat broken purse of his lips that’s just the least bit curved. It tells her everything he’s thinking, and the quick patting of his cheek lets him know she understands.

Half an hour later, Childe finds himself curled up on his side under the sheets, phone in hand as he stares at a blinking cursor. It shouldn’t be so hard to send a text to convey his holiday greetings, because that’s all it is -- part of him is becoming desperate and aching for some interaction with you, even if it’s just a text sent back for conventional social pleasantries. He’ll take it for now, right?

Before he can totally chicken out, his thumbs quickly type a, “Happy Holidays, (y/n) :)”, and it’s a little embarrassing how quickly after he hits the ‘send’ button that he tosses it over his shoulder so he’s not directly looking at it anymore. His heartbeat is too quick and he prays for no phantom vibrations or phantom sound notifications to avoid any disappointment of thinking he got a reply. It was a harmless text, yet he’s treating it like he just got assigned on a mission to go and murder someone for the first time. What will he do if you never text him back? Does that mean you really don’t want to talk to him? Are you dead in a ditch somewhere? Did you change numbers and not tell him? Did your twin get all the details and make the executive decision to block his number? Will he never get a chance to talk to you again, even if it’s about something in the Teyvat Mythology class next semester? Will you--

His shoulder screams in protest when he quickly flips himself over at the text notification sound, hands shakily unlocking his phone and opening up your conversation again. His heart rate significantly decreases, reaching back to its normal pace, especially as he reads the little words on his screen.

“Happy Holidays, Ajax ^^”

There is hope.

-

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

You’re huddled under the comforter of your twin’s bed, phone just peeking above the edge as you stare at it with a brightness in your eyes. For the most part, you had been sulking there, apart from meals and going back to your own room to sleep, and mentally berating yourself for the way you reacted to Childe the week before.

“He just texted me to say happy holidays,” shrugging to put on a facade of indifference. It’s stupid that you’re trying to hide your feelings from your twin of all people, who could pick apart and identify your emotions in a heartbeat. A roll of his eyes lets you know that you haven’t fooled him at all.

“So you think that whatever comment he made, which was very suggestive and indicative of clearly non-platonic feelings, was just something...friendly? Remind me again how you came to that conclusion?”

“I don’t know what I was thinking!” You whine, looking around to see if there was anything you could toss at him. “It’s just, with everything, all the dreams and stupid gut feelings, I just -- I don’t know, okay?? I can’t tell you enough how much I wish I had just kissed his stupid face and see where it goes from there.”

“Okay, gross, but don’t beat yourself up. Though...I do have a good idea on how to maybe get a good reaction out of him. You wanna go to the New Years’ celebration at Xiangling’s?”

“I think she’d threaten me with a knife if I didn’t. She wanted to go shopping at some point, too.”

“I’ll drop the overprotective brother act for one night, okay? One night, just to let this happen, and for your peace of mind.”

He does a fair amount of conspiring with Xiangling, a friend they met one time at a restaurant a couple years ago, even tagging along on the shopping trip. Together, the three of you find yourself a dress that Xiangling swears would make any person drool over you, including Childe, because at the end of the day, he was a person with the possibility of being attracted to you.

You think it’s a bit silly, but honestly, what do you have to lose at this point?

-

At 11:57PM on New Years’ Eve, Childe is standing outside in the freezing cold with his family, arms lifting up bags of sparklers and fireworks. They’ve driven out closer to the wild like they do every year, and everybody excitedly gets lighters ready, making sure someone’s got a clock out there that tells the seconds. As the younger kids open up the packaging and argue over which one to set off first, Childe’s phone vibrates in his coat pocket.

It’s 11:58PM when he manages to fish the device out and thank himself for buying gloves that are touch-screen friendly, excited to see that there are two texts from you, the latter reading, “Happy New Year!”. It doesn’t matter that you’re a little early, but he’s mainly intrigued by the fact a photo came before it. In his mind, you’re probably curled up with your twin brother, hopefully a selfie because wow, he misses your face.

He gets something else instead, and he is so glad that it’s dark outside and the electric lamp they have is too far away from him to draw any attention.

You have your arm around your brother’s waist and another girl’s that he doesn’t recognize, but it’s a full frontal view of your outfit, one that hugs your curves beautifully and shows more cleavage than he’s ever seen from you, sophisticated and elegant, yet fun and leaving enough to the imagination. There’s a bright smile coming from all of you, and you look like you’re at someone’s house or apartment with plenty of other people milling around in the back, but they don’t matter, not when all he can focus on is you.

Gorgeous, breathtaking, arousing, mind blowing, and gods, he wishes he could teleport to Liyue at this moment, find you, and kiss you right at midnight. Fuck the fact that he doesn’t exactly believe in superstitions like, “Kissing your significant other at midnight means you’ll last forever!” but he’s willing to take the chance with it on this night and the ones after, if he’s allowed. He tries not to think too much about pinning you against the wall and letting the world dissolve -- wants to be the one with the privilege to drag down that zipper and feel his bare skin on yours, and --

As Teucer starts yelling there’s only a minute left, he instinctively locks his phone and shoves it away out of anyone’s view. The last thing he needs is his family teasing him about ogling at your photo for a straight 50 seconds, wide-eyed and pupils on the verge of dilating, the visible breath leaving his mouth just a smudge more dense and prominent than usual.

The only thing he can do to distract himself from popping a boner in front of his parents is to join in on the countdown, making sure all the fireworks are set up correctly and grabbing a sparkler for himself. He waves it around with Tonia and promises to fulfill her wishes of taking one of those pictures right as she draws a pattern in the air. Their excitement is palpable and addicting, and even though the larger fireworks set off a few seconds after midnight hits, the nostalgia fills his lungs with fond memories and future wishes that they only continue this tradition for as long as possible, and hopefully, with you at his side.

-

When it’s 12:04AM, you get a picture message back of Childe bundled up in a black paletot coat, matching beanie and all, a gloved hand holding a sparkler and lips curved upwards, with a caption that says, “Happy New Year’s! See you soon :)”. You show it to Xiangling and your brother, both taking it as a win in their books, although the former does tipsily protest that there should be a better indicator of Childe’s brain breaking at how amazing you look right now. Maybe she’s prophetic, because another text chimes in and the words set you aflame, as well as suggestive whoops into your ears.

It’s a simple, “You look incredible btw”.

If you didn’t want to properly savor this moment, you would’ve found the nearest shot of the strongest liquor and tossed it back with abandon. But you want to remember the warmth in your veins that wasn’t from the alcohol or the heating, the fluttering of your heartbeat, the teeth-baring grin that you couldn’t fight off, the constant re-reading of those four words -- because they’re so different from everything you had been feeling before with him, the need for protection, the need to escape. Instead, you’d like to be in his arms right now and see for yourself how he’d look at you in this moment, and if he would take any action.

You want him to. So, so bad.

-

Childe spends his last week at home hating the fact that you’re just sitting around somewhere in Liyue, doing whatever you’re doing, probably doing some light preparation for your last semester of classes, and he’s not there to take advantage of all this free time and hang out with you. When classes start, it’ll be busy and hectic. You still have your thesis to finish and revise, and while that won’t eat up all your time, it’s still some that he’d want to fill in with his presence if he could. He debates whether or not he should ask for your schedule and compare it with his, maybe set up meetings every other day or propose that they all eat one meal together every day. Childe’s not quite sure of what you plan to do after graduation, as it hasn’t come up in conversation yet, but either way, he’s determined to stay in contact and make things work out. Long distance isn’t ideal, but with technology now, he’ll take it.

He feels a little bad for how excited he probably looked to be leaving home, uncharacteristic for the most part. His older siblings have already gone back to their respective homes, and it’s mainly Teucer and Tonia that worry and tear up when he starts packing his belongings. Tonia finds it unfair that Teucer got to meet you first and the latter makes sure to rub it into everyone’s faces. It’s hard for Childe to sleep on the plane because he’s thrumming with excitement, yet somehow even more nervous than usual when the plane hits small bouts of turbulence, and he doesn’t seem to relax until he sets foot back on campus.

He’s here. It’s January, and you’re physically closer to him than ever in the last two weeks.

-

“Found you.”

On the first day of classes, you’re sitting alone with some salad greens in a bowl, poking your fork at some scraps while you watch something on your phone, earbuds in and back towards the entrance of the canteen. It would explain the unannounced entrance of the very person who’s been at the forefront of nearly every thought in the last 96 hours, his fingers gingerly removing an earbud to surprise you as best as possible, and you startle in your seat.

Your heart kicks into overdrive when he hands you back your earbud and pulls out the seat next to you, setting his own plate of food down as he plops down in his chair. But then he says nothing afterwards, instead choosing to send you a cheeky grin before digging in. You’re left to slowly phase out of your state of shock, stuck between either running away or frantically texting your twin to come and save you even though he was off on a date with Keqing.

It’s not that you weren’t elated at the fact that Childe had done exactly as you told him last month, you just weren’t...prepared? It’s a shitty excuse and a cop out -- you’re mainly just having trouble with racking your brain to find the right words. What are you supposed to say? What should you do? Is it socially acceptable to lean over and kiss him on the cheek because that’s what you’d like to impulsively do at this very second??

“So you did,” you settle and steal a roasted potato wedge from his plate. It’s his turn to be taken by surprise, but he gets over it much quicker than you do. In fact, he spears two wedges and drops them in your bowl, smiling at you as best as he can with a mouth full of food. You give them your thanks before the silence settles in again.

“Did you have a good break?” He asks before his next bite.

“I did. You?”

“It was nice. My parents said I should’ve brought you and your twin home to spend the holidays with us. Can’t say it didn’t cross my mind before finals.”

Holy shit, what? “We couldn’t intrude like that, but that’s really nice of you guys.”

“That’s okay, there’s plenty of chances to visit later.”

You tilt your head and furrow your eyebrows. “But we graduate this semester?”

Childe challenges you with one of his own eyebrows raised. “And? Are we never gonna see each other again?”

Honestly, the possibility had occurred to you. You aren’t entirely sure of Childe’s plans after graduation, and if that meant he was staying in Liyue or going back to Snezhnaya or even moving to Inazuma or Mondstat. While people preach on and on about how lasting friendships and relationships are often formed during college, you believe it’s more common to slowly drift apart as life gets busier. And if Childe moved away, or if you did, it’d be hard to consistently keep in touch with 10 hour workdays.

The thought saddens you, regardless. You like him so much and you’re glad that he was even in your life to begin with, because as unbelievable as it sounds, seeing him was almost akin to the feeling of coming home. Amidst all your nerves, your confusion, your spiraling thoughts, something deeply sated in your heart was a comfort that you found with very few people in your life whenever in his presence.

The thought of leaving and never looking back somehow doesn’t feel new -- it’s bittersweet, but the air in your lungs feels like it’s surrendered to something, like it was to be expected.

“You can’t just leave without telling me--”

“It was last minute! I had no choice!”

“You could’ve written up a message, anything--”

“Can you imagine the position you’d be in if the message got intercepted? I wouldn’t have been safe, she’d make you come after me--”

“As if you’d be any safer in Inazuma of all places! That’s the one place I can’t easily get to!”

“I can take care of myself, Childe, I don’t need you to protect me.”

“This isn’t about me protecting you, (y/n) and -- stop walking, will you?!”

“Then what is this about?” You spin on your wheel with eyes aflame. “Why are you so angry with me? It’s normal for me to disappear for weeks at a time, why was this any different?”

“Because you could’ve died!” He yells back in despair, chest heaving. Your silence is his cue to continue. “You could’ve died and I wouldn’t have known until much later. You could’ve died and all I’d ever think about were the things I never got to say to you, and how I wish I had treated every day with you like it was our last.”

It isn’t hard to tell that you’re stunned and at a complete loss for words. Childe often hides behind facades of charm and wit, and only when he is truly weak does he choose to be this vulnerable, baring his heart for you to see.

“I only have two nightmares in this world. One, my family being harmed in any way. Two, reading in a report or hearing from an agent that you’ve been captured and killed.”

“I like to think that we will.”

His hand reaches out to lay on top of yours, giving it a quick squeeze. “Well, let’s make the most of it this semester.”

Conversation afterwards is easy, filling each other in on holiday activities. Childe speaks extensively about several family traditions and you listen with rapt attention, basking in how fond he is of all of them. Even as you both bring your dishes to the return belt and leave, he immediately offers to drive you both somewhere to get boba, noticing your reluctance to part ways. But boba shops have to close, and you both have class tomorrow morning, and you’re both finding any excuse to keep talking, even if that means sitting outside your dorm building on a nearby bench.

You eventually bid each other good night’s and see you later’s, him refusing to walk away until the heavy door locks shut behind you after you swipe your student ID, and you looking over your shoulder to watch his figure disappear into the night.

-

True to his intentions, Childe makes great efforts to meet you at least once a day, and he can’t get enough. Each parting from you tugs and tugs at his heart, as if there’s a high possibility you’ll never want to see him again the next day, and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Your twin and Childe get along well for the most part, and he even meets Xiangling on one of her shifts at her regular restaurant, who sends you a salacious wink and an eyebrow wiggle over his shoulder that nearly causes you to burst from embarrassment.

February rolls over without a hitch, even if you’re a little disappointed that Childe didn’t make a move for Valentine’s Day. Granted, you two still spent time with each other and he’s so darn physically affectionate and he bought you a carnation from the event his dorm held, but you wish you had the guts to fess up and just kiss the man.

It’ll happen some day, you tell yourself. You have time before graduation.

Two days before the end of the Friday that would signal the start of Spring Break, you wake up in a cold sweat, mind reeling and head splitting, heart so so heavy, as a connection is made between your present and your dreams. Not long after, there are tears streaming silently down your face and into your open palms placed in your lap, and you sit in shock as everything comes back to you. Memories are such treasured burdens, you realize.

For the most part, you had gotten used to the dreams, choosing to take charge of what you know and feel now with Childe over succumbing to some strange neurological premonitions. Especially in your dreams when many people’s faces were blurred over and hazy, and the only things you could rely on were voices, touch, and other physical features. You thought that maybe your mind was just playing tricks by transposing Childe’s hair onto a body that was also strikingly similar to his, but for the first time last night, you could see each defining feature on his face as clear as day.

The sight of his figure arching gracefully over yours, the water arrows that appeared out of thin air, the back that protected you from some military men, the voice that said, “Hey girlie, hold still.”

And that was when you had snapped awake to your current state.

Past the initial shock and uncontrollable tears, you soon bent over as sobs wracked your chest, overwhelmed by all the emotions and the pain the memories brought you; losing your twin, finding him to only be left with even more questions after roaming for decades and decades, meeting all your loved ones throughout Mondstat and Liyue, fighting yet falling so hard for Childe, feeling the fear when facing his Foul Legacy form, hating him for Osial, loving him, breathing heavily as the tip of your blade was pointed at his neck and his own just centimeters from yours, tendrils of water inching closer and closer--

Everything makes sense now.

When you meet your twin for lunch at the cafeteria, you pay no mind to the fact that you’re in public and hug him harder than you ever have in years. He’s already a little alarmed that your eyes seem swollen and you look like finals came two months early, but when he asks what’s wrong, all he gets is a shake of your head and nothing more than, “Just a bad nightmare. I love you, y’know that?”

“I love you too?”

“Don’t sound so unsure, now let’s go and get in line before they run out of Jueyun Chili Chicken.”

Even when you meet Xiao later in the early evening to talk about your thesis, you find yourself holding back more tears just two minutes in, reminded of his past and his own life, and he’s moderately concerned, hesitantly handing you a tissue from the corner of his desk when a stray tear escapes. “Is everything okay?” He hesitantly asks, really hoping that he didn’t do anything to make you cry.

“No,” you almost wail and sniffle while dabbing at your eyes. “Sorry, it’s just been a really long day.”

Xiao’s inquisitive gaze softens, remembering how hard undergraduate life could be sometimes. Graduate school was a whole other level, but that shouldn’t discount your own personal difficulties. Plus, in all of the year and a half that he’s known you, you’ve never broken down like this before in front of him.

“You work really hard, Xiao,” you continue, and he’s not sure where this is coming from. “You’re always so helpful and willing to work with me and answer my stupid questions and like-- you practice self-care, right?”

Xiao nods as a white lie, but it seems to comfort you. Maybe too much because you pull him in for a quick and unexpected hug, and you both decide to reschedule this meeting for tomorrow.

As per usual, you wait for Childe to join you for dinner since you finished up earlier than expected. It gives you more time to think about everyone from Mondstat -- Kaeya, Diluc, Lisa, Jean, Amber...funny to think that some things never changed as you compared their past version to the ones you know now.

“Mora for your thoughts?”

There’s a peace that warms your heart when you hear Childe’s voice, one that forces you to smile at him as he sits down next to you. “Just thinking about old friends.”

“I have to admit, I’ll be a little jealous if it’s another guy taking up more space than me in that pretty brain of yours.”

What a flirt. This man isn’t good for your heart. “Who said you had any to begin with?”

He dramatically places a hand over his heart. “You wound me, (y/n). How will I ever recover?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you snicker. Childe reaches over to pinch your cheek and you bat at him in protest. Easily, he grabs one of your hands and simply pulls you towards the food lines, knowing that you’ll stop fighting back soon.

Part of it feels strange now to feel and see his hands with no leather gloves on.

“Childe,” you start halfway through your meal, continuing after he hums back in reply. “Do you believe in reincarnation?”

He freezes briefly, but recovers so quickly that if you hadn’t been watching so closely, you wouldn’t have noticed. “I think it’s neat, the idea of having past lives. Why do you ask?”

What he really wants to ask is if you’ve been having those dreams, too; if he’s starring in your nights like you have been in his.

“Just a thought, especially since you’re taking Teyvat Myth now, too.”

“Do you...do you think if there was a past life, that we knew each other?”

There’s something about the look of content on your face before you meet his gaze -- he thinks that you know more than you’re letting on but you’re holding back for some reason. He wants to know what’s going through your brain right now, why the fondness in your eyes sends a jolt through him like he’s been searching for it all his life, if you know anything about this magnetic pull between you two.

“I like to think that we knew each other well.”

-

Even though the first day of your returned memories was somewhat eventful, you couldn’t help but feel yourself wanting to pull back from Childe -- at least, until you can successfully compartmentalize which emotions belonged to you past self and which ones belonged to your current mindset. You didn’t quite agree with his duties and his affiliation with the Fatui back then, even if he had his reasons that did make sense, to some degree.

The killing, the threatening, so intent on stealing Rex Lapis’s Gnosis in the name of the Tsaritsa, summoning Osial as a mean to an end -- and you definitely can’t forget how stubborn he was in not listening to your protests, so caught up in his brain that you had betrayed him and sent you plummeting to a near-death experience despite his earlier promise of no intention of killing you specifically.

Everything had been toeing a faint, thin line with Childe then. Undeniable chemistry and tension, guarding yourself for yours and Paimon’s safety, slashing at Fatui agents, whispering out pleas and affirmations of “I’m yours” while riding him, sometimes having to sneak out in the mornings…

The only thing you don’t remember is how everything ends -- maybe it’ll come back to you eventually, but for now, you think you’re okay not knowing.

If Childe still doesn’t remember anything from back then, you think it’d be unfair to spend time with him in all your conflicting emotions, even when it’s spring break, where you have so much more hours in the day to be with each other than normal. Fun plans around Liyue had been made, like a two-day one-night trip to Yaoguang Shoal, and you’re this close to cancelling on him.

But he had been looking forward to it so much, even made most of the preparations for it. Who are you to rob that joy from him when it was you who couldn’t figure out your own shit? Are you self-destructing?

Perhaps.

Before you know it, you’re sitting in the passenger seat of his car, staring out the window at the scenery. Somehow, it pleased you to see that the nature of Liyue had been carefully preserved over the many centuries despite its development into the modern age. You get lost in picking apart the differences between then and now that you don’t notice how quiet you’ve fallen and Childe looks over worriedly when you show no reaction to your favorite songs playing on the stereo.

Even when he calls your name once, twice, nothing gives as you clearly have tuned everything out. So he leaves you be until there’s about half an hour left on the drive, unable to hold back and succumbing to reach over for your hand. You startle so strongly that he almost feels bad for having done it unannounced. But what’s even more disturbing is that this isn’t really the first time.

You’ve been talking to him less, often sitting quietly and staring off into another world that he can’t seem to reach. His texts are answered less frequently and with less wit and enthusiasm, so much so that he just appreciates you still show up to see him. Each time he asks if you’re okay, you always affirm that you are. He’s had a hard time believing you, but Childe believes you’ll tell him when you’re ready, surely.

It’s a little ironic yet fateful that Childe planned to bring you here, of all places. In the past, you had spent many days and nights running around in the sand with him, fighting slimes and hilichurls and collecting starconches for him. You remember laying on a large towel next to him as you both looked up into the sky, pointing out stars and constellations while sharing endless kisses away from prying, spying eyes.

“I’m sorry, I must’ve zoned out,” you sincerely apologize.

“It’s okay, I just wanna make sure you relax while we’re here. This is supposed to be a vacation.”

“You’re right,” you agree and squeeze his hand. “Let’s make the most of it before we become adults who are too busy to have fun like this again.”

And you do. Childe rented a small beach cabin (rich boys) closer to one end of the shoreline, just big enough with two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small kitchen with a dining table. You help him bring in your bags and some groceries bought the night before, setting them down quickly so you can peer out the window again to take in the view. Childe picked a good time, too. Although it’d be a little chilly at night, the day was still warm and mainly overcast with clouds.

“What do you say we change into our swimsuits and head down to the water?”

“Sure.”

Childe hadn’t really been expecting for you to step out in a large, casual tee and gym shorts, one shoulder exposed. He might have been hoping to see a little more skin, but his mother didn’t raise a chauvinistic pervert for a son.

The light in your eyes as you both approach the water is everything he had been missing the last few days, your excitement and joy contagious. As soon as you place everything down on the sand, you kick off your flip flops and leave him behind to step into the water, giggling at feeling the waves crash over your ankles and bring sand between your toes. Childe approaches you from behind and starts smearing sunblock on the back of your neck, to which you just grin beautifully at him in thanks and he has to fight off the desire to kiss you right then and there.

You’re too caught up in embracing the ocean afterwards to feel the shrinking distance between you two, mistaking his warmth for the general spring air. It isn’t until he’s done with your shoulders that he hands you the bottle to leave you to do the rest of your body, and when you turn to thank him, he’s much closer than you remember. His eyes are gentle, holding your gaze and almost daring you to look away first.

But if there’s one thing you can place without a shred of doubt, it is the unmistakable look of love, because you had seen it many, many times before without knowing until later what it meant.

How so incredibly lucky you were to have Childe back in your life now, loving you all the same, and with no life-threatening barriers. Fate or the Archons have given you a second chance, and you’d be damned to take it for granted.

Childe welcomes your lips against his, wasting no time to bring you into his arms so you’re pressed against him as much as possible. He can’t care for the overt public display of affection because this is everything he’s wanted for months now, waiting patiently for you to give him permission to make you his. Your lips are incredibly soft and pliant against his as you first kiss him patiently, then applying more force and desperation to taste more of him. He mirrors you, one hand cradling the back of your head and the other on your neck with a thumb extended to your jawline, teeth moving to nip at your bottom lip. It’s dangerous, the way you smile against his lips, and when he sinks his teeth in deeper before pulling back, your quiet mewl nearly drives him over the edge.

But you’re in public, and this was an amazing first kiss. You two have a beach to enjoy and a fun night planned, and now that he doesn’t have to hold back on his affections, it’ll be even better.

His lips part from yours regretfully, his eyes languidly opening to meet yours. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a blue starconch in the sand and freezes.

It’s not that he’s never seen one before, but something clicks. You. The shore. Starconches. Starry nights. His dreams. Monsters. Gods. Fighting. So much fighting. Training. His family. Dragons. You. Falling. You falling. You fighting him. Yelling. Kissing. Loving. Chasing. Him chasing you before you disappear at a teleport waypoint that somehow you only can operate. The abyss. Your twin.

Oh, Archons.

“ -ou okay, Ajax? Ajax?”

He snaps to look at you again. How does he go about this? How does he ask?

“(Y/n)...have you ever heard of the Fatui Harbingers?”

He has to admit that it’s a bit amazing to be able to identify all the emotions that cross your complexion, from curiosity to realization to conflicted. You’re actively trying to piece everything together without revealing too much on the off-chance that you’re wrong, that Childe hasn’t regained his memories and is just asking about something from class randomly and completely out of the blue.

Wait.

“You haven’t reached that material yet in class,” you whisper, heart in your throat at the realization. Could it really be…

“I was once Tartaglia, eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui, who possessed a Delusion and used my Foul Legacy Transformation with you several times,” he murmurs back, tucking a stray tendril behind your ear. “Is it too late to apologize again for summoning an ancient god and letting you fall about five floors with no warning?”

He should’ve been prepared for you wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a tight embrace. “No, never, but I spent weeks after kicking your ass so you’ve been long forgiven.”

Childe burrows his face into your neck, breathing in your scent and basking in this moment. There was so much to talk about, but you two arguably had more time in the world than ever with nothing holding you back. There was no impending war looming over, no one on the run, no opposing forces. His silent wish for a different life with you seems to have been answered finally. If running into you had been the event to set everything in motion, he only wishes he’d done so earlier.

All that matters now is you’re here together in this plane of existence, given a chance to love again, and experience everything you couldn't before.

As written in the stars, take my soul for it is forever yours.

fin

[themostdivisive]

Shared, Part Three

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader, Remus Lupin x reader, James Potter x reader

Summary: You’re best friends with Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and James Potter. Your world changes when the three of them get the idea to share you as a girlfriend.

Genre: fluff, angst, smut (this part is mostly smut) 

Note: hsdgaofsokds;la i hope this turned out alright lmao I wrote it very quickly and its barely proofread 

“Oh, hello (Y/N).” Remus sat up from his bed immediately to greet you. 

“Hi,” You said timidly. You were still shaken from the conversation that just happened with James. 

“I think (Y/N) has something to tell us.” James said. Sirius was suddenly paying full attention as he laid in his bed. Was she going to finally say yes? He thought. 

“I-” You started but were unsure of how to say it. Your mind swirled with so many different things.  “I thought about it, and, erm… well, I think I like the idea of you lot sharing me as a girlfriend.”

“Is that a yes?” Remus asked. You nodded quickly. “You’re certain?” You nodded yet again. Remus smiled an infectious smile that you couldn’t help but return.  

“So, how is this going to work exactly?” You asked. 

“Hm, I think we should show her how it’ll work.” Sirius hopped off of his bed and strolled over to you. He stood close as he reached out a hand to brush your hair back behind your shoulder. Just the motion gave you chills. Sirius lowered his voice. “Would you like us to show you, darling?” You nodded. “Let’s use our words, shall we? Tell me yes or no.” He said sternly. 

“Yes, I want you to show me.” You had an idea of what might happen next but honestly, you had zero complaints. 

“Good girl,” Said Sirius. The words made your head rush and your cheeks glow even brighter. James turned around and put a charm on the door as if he knew exactly what was about to happen. You could feel James come closer behind you as Sirius slowly undid your tie and began to unbutton your shirt. James held your hips with one hand and unzipped your skirt with the other. You stood there breathless as the boys undressed you. Soon you were standing in their dorm clad in only your bra and knickers. 

You felt a little insecure but all self doubt was extinguished when you saw the expressions on Sirius and Remus’ face. Remus began to walk over, he was seemingly enraptured in the sight of your body. With a pop, James unhooked your bra. You slid it off your shoulders and displayed your bare chest for them to see. James didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you from behind and massage your breasts. You felt him plant a few kisses on your shoulders from behind as he played with your nipples. 

Remus slowly inched down to his knees, making eye contact with you all the while. With both of his hands, he slipped your knickers down your legs and completely off of you. Something about seeing Remus look at you from below made your insides heat up. Sirius noticed you staring and lifted our chin delicately with his index finger and thumb. Your eyes locked with his. 

“Why don’t you get on your knees for us, pet.” Said Sirius. Remus stood up as you lowered yourself to your knees. 

“She’s an obedient little one, isn’t she?” James said. “I told you she would be.” He added to Sirius and Remus. 

“You proved me wrong, Jamesie. I thought she’d be a little more feisty but it seems like she’s been waiting for this.” Sirius began to unbuckle his belt. You stared up at him with doe like eyes. You watched as all of the boys unbuckled their belts to reveal their lengths. Your eyes widened at the sight of the three boys in front of you. Suddenly it made sense that many girls at Hogwarts wanted to be with the three of them. You wondered how you could possibly be able to fit any of them in your mouth. They continued to undress themselves until all four of you were in the room naked together. 

“Open your mouth, darling.” Remus said sweetly. You did as he said and opened it wide. You were ready to take in all of his cock that you could in order to please him. Remus couldn’t help but gasp when the tip of his member met your tongue. He threw his head back in ecstasy as you tried to fit his entire length into your mouth. The boys took turns using your mouth. Remus was the most gentle. He ran his hands through your hair as you sucked on him. James and Sirius were certainly more aggressive. James would grab your hair and push your head into his cock which made you gag but he seemed to like it. The unpleasantness of gagging was overridden by your intense desire to please the boys. You were hardly so submissive with any other men. While you had Sirius in your mouth, he held your head steady and slowly rocked himself in and out. He seemed to be the most daring. But somehow, you felt like they were holding back a bit. 

“Lay down, poppet” Sirius demanded “I want to taste your cunt.” He made your heart beat hard in your chest as you laid down in Sirius’ bed. As soon as you were on your back, Sirius didn't hesitate to spread open your legs. He positioned himself below you and began to lick your core. You let out a passionate moan, unable to contain your volume. As Sirius lapped up your juices, Remus planted kisses all over your body. He began to suck and bite at your nipples. 

“Mmm you like that?” James stroked his cock as he watched. “You like it when Sirius tongues your cunt, don’t you?” He said. The pleasure was building up inside you. Sirius was twirling his tongue on your clitoris with vigor. You arched your back in please and let out a wanton moan. Suddenly James grabbed your face in his hand and made you look at him. “I want an answer.” He demanded. His eyes were full of aggressive lust, it was nothing like you had never seen in him before. 

“Be good for us, darling, and tell us what you like.” Remus added. 

“I-” You stuttered, unable to form words with how fucking good it felt to be eaten out by Sirius. “I- Oh my god.” He slipped a finger inside you, making you cry out with pleasure. “I like that, please don’t stop.” You begged. 

“You look so beautiful lying here like a hot mess. I can’t wait to feel how tight you are.” said Remus in a soft low voice. 

“I can’t wait either,” Agreed James. Just before you tipped over the edge of an orgasm, Sirius lifted his head and left you quivering. You whined a bit, feeling a little disappointed that he didn’t let you come. He liked how helpless you looked in that moment, it sparked some sort of animalistic instinct of his. 

“I think you should give it to her, Prongs.” Sirius said to James as he pulled you up from the position and placed you perpendicular on the bed. Your head hanged over the edge of the bed, right at the height of Sirius’ cock. Your breathing quickened as you felt James place your legs around his shoulders and position himself at your entrance. 

“Is this alright, poppet? Jamesie is going to give you a proper shag while you suck my cock. Open up.” He said. You complied immediately. Whatever the boys said was what you were going to do. The lust made you blind to any   agency you once had and honestly, it felt freeing. The feeling of freedom was only enriched by feeling James’ thick cock slip into you. For a moment you thought it might not fit, but after slowly rocking in and out of you he found that your cunt was perfect for slamming his cock into. You didn’t have time to make a noise because Sirius was already positioning his length at your lips. You opened your mouth to let him in and fuck your throat. You gagged a few times but it only seemed to make Sirius harder and harder. Sirius’ thrusts into your mouth were getting sloppier and you could tell he was close. 

“Fuck,” He hissed. “‘M gonna cum.” He said with an irresistibly hot expression of bliss that you had never seen on him before. It drove you crazy. Sirius quickly pulled out of your mouth and shot a few ropes of cum onto your bare chest. You caught your breath while he growled in satisfaction as he came. You didn’t have time to think about the mess this would all make as James pounded you harder and harder. You had to stop yourself from crying out with every thrust. 

Remus was fervently stroking himself next to you. Your moans alone were almost enough to make him finish. It looked as though he was close too. His soft whimpers got louder and louder until he too released his load on your bare chest. You barely had time to register it as you felt your own orgasm coming on. 

“Look Sirius, I think she’s gonna cum.” Remus said as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Don’t stop, Prongs. Fuck her faster.” Sirius bent down to kiss your face and neck. Your skin felt all hot. “I want to watch her cum.” James started thrusting faster. You couldn’t ignore the pressure building inside you and soon it all came rushing out like a dam. Endorphins flooded your system as you came. You didn’t think to be quiet, you cried out loudly. Your eyes rolled back a bit as you rode out the wave of your orgasm. James pulled out and released himself on your stomach. You were covered in the boys’ cum, lying helpless on the bed. Your chest heaved and your head was empty. It felt like bliss. 

Sirius cleaned up the cum on your torso with some sort of spell you hadn’t heard before and shifted you so that you were laying the right way on the bed. “I think we should have a cheeky cuddle, yeah?” James said with a smile as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. 

“I suppose she deserves as much for being such a good girl.” Sirius said with a smirk. You laid on your side facing James as Sirius spooned you. “Mooney, come give me a spoon.” Said Sirius. You could sense Remus rustling on the bed behind Sirius getting into a comfortable spoon position. 

“You two are a bunch of-” James began but was cut off by Remus. 

“Watch it or I’ll spoon you too, Jamesie.” 

Tag List: @kashishwrites   @i-am-addicted-to-tea @1975weasley @somethingchaotic @cosmoswid @emilianamason @quindolyn @persephone-reincarnated @fanic-fictation​ @switchbladefightz​ @artemis1orion​ @ftwert @nickkie1129​ @fan-written @katherinalyn @milkshakelol​ @lenanettewrites @padfootswife​ @nunchuck-daddy​ 

(for some reason some of the tags wont work? lmk if anyone knows why. im sorry if i tagged you and it didnt show up!!)

[daloy-politsey]

On my first date with Yehoram, I offered him a sip of my prosecco at the hip Tel Aviv bar I had brought him to. He tensed, paused and quietly replied, “I’m not sure if I can. I don’t know if it’s kosher.” I immediately recognized his confession for what it was: a coming-out. I told him that it’s fine, that we can ask the waitress if the wine has a certification, that I grew up in an observant family too. He finally breathed.

I already knew that Yehoram is female-to-male transgender. In fact, it was the only thing written on his dating profile. Over the course of our year-long relationship, and then our seamless transition into friendship late last year, he explained to me that the queer community will often accept that he is trans but not that he is religious. But the same is not always necessarily true of the religious community – and particularly of his family.

There are many preconceptions about his family. The matriarch Mazal, 74, and patriarch Yehiel, 78, were both born in Sana’a, Yemen, and immigrated to the newly-declared State of Israel in early childhood. (Haaretz is honoring their request not to publish the family name.) They are visibly Haredi: Mazal wears long skirts and tucks her hair into modest black caps; Yehiel trims his salt-and-pepper beard, and wears a uniform of crisp dress shirts, black pants and a black velvet kippa.

They speak with heavy Yemenite accents – which have been at least partially adopted by their seven children – and their speech is seasoned with religious aphorisms and allusions. People are surprised to learn that Yehoram, 32, is accepted and supported by his parents, to a degree that is rare even in the secular homes of Tel Aviv.

At their kitchen table in a town near Rehovot, central Israel, Mazal has set out water, juice and a homemade cake. Yehiel has set down a voice recorder of his own, to make sure he isn’t misrepresented. They have a story to tell about being the parents of a trans son, and they have decided that I am allowed to tell it.

Before we begin the interview, both are apprehensive. After much deliberation, they decide that I can publish their names but not their images. Yehiel is a respected figure in religious circles: he serves as his synagogue’s main cantor on the High Holy Days, is a mezuzah scribe and kashrut supervisor for the Chief Rabbinate. He spends his free time poring over religious texts, with Yehoram often alongside him. His son no longer attends the local synagogue in which his father plays so large a role; the congregation knew him before his transition, and it could hurt his family’s reputation.

If someone goes to the rabbi with this article in hand and tells Yehiel that he’s out of the fold, “at our age, there’s no fight left. There’s nothing you can do,” he says. “It would destroy me.” When he thinks I cannot hear him, he says that he suspects that one of his contracts as a kashrut supervisor was not renewed for this exact reason – because of his unconventional family.

But if getting his story out shows religious parents that they can embrace their own LGBTQ children, he wants it published. “I want to help,” he says.

Mazal chimes in. “Both of us do. You hear these stories about parents throwing their children out ... I don’t understand it. I don’t understand how you throw out your child.”

She recounts going to the shivah of a friend of Yehoram’s – the transgender queer activist DanVeg, who took her own life in 2016.  “I saw them all in the living room, with their heads on each other’s shoulders. I started to cry. I wanted to hug them all, to go one by one. And they came to me; they saw the look in my eye. There was a man who had become a woman, who came to hug me. And a young girl, and more. I couldn’t take it,” she says, wiping away tears that are coming faster and faster. “More and more of them told us that they’re alone, abandoned by their parents. How can you throw out your child? The child of a human being!”

I get up to hug her, and she cries into my back: “Why? Why would you throw your child out of your house? Why?”

They say they never suspected that Yehoram was different before he came out to them, if not unconventionally, as queer at the age of 18, some 14 years ago.

He did not employ the usual lexicon: “I told them, this is how I am – I’m wearing pants from now on and I’m not interested in men,” he recounts. In Yehoram’s absence, Yehiel recalls it as well. Yehoram sat his parents down in the living room and said his piece, and then asked his parents for a response.

“We got up immediately, as if it were coordinated,” Yehiel says. “We hugged [him] from both directions … and we told [him], ‘You have nothing to be afraid of, no need to worry. You’re our daughter, it doesn’t matter what you do.’” Yehoram then opened his backpack to show a couple days’ clothes inside. “If you didn’t accept me, I would have killed myself,” he told his parents.

From there, they worked to make sure that their son wouldn’t, for one moment, forget that he is loved and cared for. They also made sure that he could live a normal life. “It was important that he be self-sufficient, have a respectable career, be able to build a life without us,” Yehiel explains. “Every day, I’m afraid that he won’t be here. I think about how he can build his life so he’s not dependent on anyone else.”

Mazal and Yehiel tend to refer to Yehoram with female pronouns when he isn’t in the room, and occasionally slip into them when he is. To her, Mazal says, he will always be their daughter. “It’s hard for me,” Yehiel concurs. “[He] should be patient.”

Mazal calls him by his chosen name – an anagram of his birth name – to make him happy. “And to connect with [him] – what can you do? We love [him] either way. [He’s] our daughter.”

There have been difficulties in accepting him along the way, she concedes. But like many parents of LGBTQ children, they are mainly rooted in concerns that he will be able to live a safe, fulfilling life.

No one should mistake their acceptance for liberalism – they repeatedly note that the Pride Parades, with their scanty clothes and glitter, are unsightly. “The left brings it in,” Mazal says. “Non-Jews from abroad, with all their tattoos and whatnot.” However, their embrace of their transgender son and the many queer people who have passed through their doors does not come in spite of their firm religious beliefs, but is the direct result of them.

Yehiel, a lifelong religious scholar, has poured over sources biblical, talmudic, rabbinic and kabbalistic. The kabbalistic concept of the soul provides a simple explanation for the transgender phenomenon, he believes.

“We have the knowledge that Jewish souls can be reincarnated into anything – into non-Jewish families, into animals, even into food,” Yehiel explains. “We were taught that the soul of a man can be reincarnated into a woman, in order to remedy something he had done in a past life.”

When Mazal was pregnant with Yehoram, she had already given birth to five daughters and was hoping for a son. The couple went to a respected rabbi, who told them to buy a bottle of wine for the circumcision ceremony and to come see him 40 days into the pregnancy. Yehiel says that when the time came, it was hard to get hold of the rabbi to schedule an appointment, and they were only able to see him eight months in. The rabbi gave them the blessing regardless.

“The body was already formed female,” Yehiel says, but the prayers had worked: “The soul was male.”

And there is scripture to back up the existence of LGBTQ people within Judaism. “You’re not different, you’re not strange,” Yehiel says. “This [phenomenon] has always existed. It’s in the Torah, and it’s in the mystical sources.” Mazal adds: “It’s a shame that we don’t lay this out these days, to have everything written up and organized to say that it’s all there in scripture.”

At 26, Yehoram told his parents he was transitioning. He underwent top surgery – a double mastectomy – without informing them. “On the one hand, it hurt us,” Yehiel admits. “For us, it meant that’s it – it’s sealed. If he’d told us in advance, we would have told him to wait. Maybe the situation would change.”

But what’s done is done, Mazal says. “What hurt me is that [he] underwent the surgery and I wasn’t there. That ate at me.”

Both loudly agree that the important thing is that he is happy and healthy. “We hope just for success – and thank God there are many successes, so everything is alright,” she says. “I’m just waiting for children,” she laughs.

Yehoram, who has taken a seat next to her, smirks. Mazal jokes about him coming home pregnant one day. He’s slightly irked, but jokes along. A couple of years ago, he froze his eggs through Ichilov Hospital’s fertility clinic for transgender men, and hopes to one day become a father, no matter how he has to do it. His parents strongly supported the move. They have 31 grandchildren and two great-grandchildren.

Yehoram asks a question of his own: Whether his parents want to talk about the time they took him to an esteemed rabbi in Tel Aviv, after he came out at 18.

“After he told us everything, we consulted with a rabbi,” Yehiel relays. “I remember that he got angry and yelled at him. I didn’t like that. He hurt him, and I couldn’t stay any longer, so we left.”

“The rabbi told me that I had lapsed, deteriorated in my spirituality,” Yehoram explains. It’s clear that he remembers it vividly. “That I had fallen.”

After that, the rabbi told him to leave the room, and for his parents to stay. “I heard shouting, and then you left the room,” he says to his parents. “You didn’t say anything, I didn’t say anything. We were quiet all the way home.”

No one discussed the incident for days after, and they barely spoke at all. After three days, Yehoram says, he asked his mother what had happened after the rabbi told him to leave the room.

“I didn’t know what happened, I assumed the worst. You told me that [Dad] got very angry and told [the rabbi], ‘How dare you hurt and belittle a Jewish soul?’ You said you had to give him however much money, and that you just threw a small bill onto the table and left the room,” Yehoram tells his mother. “It really surprised me. I thought you were on his side, and then I suddenly heard that you were on mine.”

When he is with us in the room, Yehoram sometimes seems agitated by his parents’ insistence that their acceptance has always been complete. He tries to direct them toward other instances, other rabbis they don’t or won’t recall. It is often difficult for parents to acknowledge the pain or discomfort that their actions caused their children, even if they were accidental. Mazal brings out a picture from Yehoram’s bat mitzvah, of them embracing the young girl he was. They look almost exactly the same, 20 years later, beaming. Young Yehoram, in a long-sleeved, high-necked dress, is smiling, but the smile does not reach his eyes.

Elisha Alexander, co-CEO and founder of the transgender advocacy and information organization Ma’avarim, says that even though Yehiel and Mazal’s acceptance of their son may seem unique, he would like to think it’s more common than we assume.

“There are religious and even ultra-Orthodox people who accept their trans family members, but it’s usually in secret. The main problem in these communities is the leadership,” he says.

But if more of them realized that embracing their children was a matter of pikuach nefesh – the Jewish concept that saving a life supersedes most religious commandments and norms – they would be more inclined to find a halakhic solution to integrating transgender people into these communities.

There is also a misconception that acceptance is a binary choice: That any parent who does not kick their transgender child out of the house or disown them has, by default, accepted them. “This could not be further from the truth,” Alexander says. “Accepting your child means accepting every aspect inherent to them, including their gender identity, pronouns and so on.”

When parents refuse to do so, their child may seek acceptance elsewhere. He adds that studies show that acceptance within the family drastically reduces the suicide rate among transgender people.

Knowing this, Yehiel says that any parent in his position must continue loving and supporting their child. “This child can fall,” he says. He does not mention it, but he is aware of the stories and statistics: trans youth who find themselves on the street face high rates of abuse and exploitation. Thirty to 50 percent of transgender teens report suicidal thoughts and behaviors – a rate three times higher than for teens overall. But that figure falls to 4 percent when families accept and embrace them, says Sarit Ben Shimol, manager of the Lioness Alliance for families and transgender children and teenagers.

Yehiel adds that it is the duty of parents to give children the support they need to thrive. “As a parent, it is your responsibility to tell your child: You are my child and you are my life. My life depends on you. Watch over me so that I can watch over you,” he says.

As we get up from our seats, Yehiel looks at me for a moment and asks, “If it’s not too personal – since we already opened up the topic – what is your relationship like with your parents?”

I tell them that I talk to my parents, and especially my mother, almost every day. That it was difficult for them to come to terms with my sexual orientation as well, and that sometimes I have an inkling that it still is, even if they won’t say it outright. But I try to be patient.

“Good,” Mazal says. “It’s important to be patient – they’re learning too.” She embraces me again, and Yehiel rests a hand on my shoulder. They invite me to come again, whenever I like. “After all, you’re like our daughter, too.”

[fightxxmexxshiggy]

Don't fear the reaper

You love to go urban exploring and you make contact with a sexy supernatural being. I wrote this during KINKtober

Kirishima x female reader

TW:CHOKING, ROUGH SEX, BREEDING KINK, TALK OF DEATH.

Word count: 3420

Walking through abandoned buildings wasn't the safest hobby but it was definitely the most interesting one. You loved seeing all the graffiti, art and equipment from a bygone era. Sometimes you went with groups when the buildings seemed more dangerous but today you went alone. As you made your way through the abandoned factory for today's exploration you noticed all the dusty work stations, they were so eerie the way they were still set up like a worker had walked away for a break and just never returned. You were honestly tempted to film the place but seeing as you were doing this on a saturday and Halloween no less you decided not to push your luck. Walking carefully you avoided the broken glass and some more crumbling areas in the concrete floors. This space was so wide open it made you curious as to what had been made here in the factories prime.

 

As you headed towards the stairs that would take you to the second floor you heard a thump and a voice shout "fucking rats." From above you. Slowly you took the stairs one at a time and called out asking if anyone was there. After a bit of shuffling the voice spoke again." If you're a cop no one is here if you're an urban explorer I'm totally here and would love some company." Laughing you stepped onto the second floor landing coming face to face with a redheaded man with surprisingly sharp teeth. Smiling at you he came forward with a hand out for a handshake. Shaking his hand you noticed how large his hands were and how strong his grip was. Letting go you introduced yourself feeling a bit awkward now that you could see the face that went along with the voice. With a wide smile he crossed his arms over his toned chest, pulling his shirt taunt over the muscles. You really needed to get layed if a rando you just met on an exploring trip was getting you hot and bothered. You were so caught up in your own thoughts you almost didn't hear him introduce himself.

 

"The names Eijiro Kirishima and it's nice to meet a fellow explorer." You smiled at him before looking away to take in your new surroundings. The second floor was a bit dark and seemed even more dusty than the first if that was possible. Walking further into the area you saw a wooden plank laying in the middle of the mostly clear walkway. As you looked at it Kirishima chuckled and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. "That plank was my fault. I was walking further in to explore some more and a rat jumped out at me." Laughing you told him you had heard his comments on the rat earlier from downstairs. It was quite interesting to see such a large man blush like a child at being caught cursing. Quickly Kirishima bent down and picked up the plank to place it back against the wall.

 

Damn the man had an amazing ass and those arms were so cut you were definitely sure your pussy had just clenched a little. This was bad, this poor man was just being friendly and here you were imagining what it would be like to have his forearm around your throat while he did dirty things to your body. Clearing your throat you asked if he'd like to join for the rest of the second floor exploration. "I'd love that pebble. I usually wander around alone but I'd never say no to having company as cute as you." Blushing you looked away as you started to walk with him going deeper into the dusty space. To your left there were tons of planks and glass panes leaning against the wall and to the right were mostly boxes stacked against the railings. You assumed this must have been office space for the owners and admins of the factory. As you walked a little ahead trying to see what was by the farthest walls you heard the floorboards groaning under your weight before they completely went out from under you.

 

You were lucky and grabbed a part of the floor that hadn't caved in as you fell. You yelled for help and saw Kirishima walk closer to where you were hanging. His face looked conflicted as he made no move to help or even to give you any reassurance. You realized he wasn't scared to fall in but you couldn't tell why he wouldn't help. Sighing defeatedly Kirishima walked over without an ounce of fear and crouched down to make eye contact with you. "I don't know what to do with you pebble, my job is to guide your soul to the afterlife but I really like you. You're so sweet and shy, much too good to be restarted just because the plan says so." What was he talking about? His job was to guide your soul? Why was he talking like he knew you? You just met him 30 minutes ago. Had you just become friends with a nut job who planned to watch you die?

 

"Ah I can see that you're confused, I mean I would be too." standing up to his full high he towered over you as you continued to stare up at him with a mix of confusion and fear. He placed back and forth for a moment before turning to you and smiling that big sharp toothed grin that moments before would have made your tummy do a little flip. If hanging half out of a hole in an abandoned building wasn't enough what happened next shocked you so much you almost lost your grip. Kirishima slowly began to lift off from the floor just floating in mid air. With wide eyes you stared in shock, wondering if maybe you had gone a little crazy while hoping he might help you so that you didn't fall to your death. "Well I know what I'm about to tell you is a bit unbelievable so I decided to show you that I'm not joking before I explain. I happen to be a reaper and today was supposed to be the day you die. But like I said I really don't know what to do with you seeing as I don't want someone as manly and fearless as you to just be gone and reincarnated as someone else."

 

As if to further prove his status as a reaper the man before you started to change. His hoodie and shorts, which were pretty standard for building walks, melted away into a pair of black military style pants and boots along with a fitted black tank top that hugged his chest and back muscles in a way that should definitely be illegal. His arms were covered in a few black band tattoos that circled his wrists and biceps. What was the most astonishing was that his spiky red hair grew long, long to the point that the ends floated around his hips. His still smiling face was covered with a half skull mask leaving his mouth still exposed. "Hey pebble do you want to live as who you are now even if that meant some things about you would change or do you want to die and have me guide you to the next realm? I'll do whatever makes you happier even if it's not what I'd like to see." His eyes shone with sincerity through his mask and his smile seemed a bit forced. You could tell that even though he wasn't human like you he still felt the same emotions that you did. From everything he had said and shown you you could tell he held affection towards you. Enough so that he was willing to go against what was probably as natural as breathing for a reaper. Looking up at him still floating above you a smile broke over your face. You told him you wanted to stay as yourself whatever the changes might be.

 

Kirishima grinned at you somehow managing to look sweet and scary all at once. Wasting no time he floated over you and grabbed you by the back of your shirt with one hand. Instead of pulling you back to the second level he drifted the two of you through the hole and down to the concrete floors below. Letting go of the back of your shirt he held out his hand to you still trying to give you some control over the situation. As you took his hand he gave it a grateful squeeze before moving to sit with you on a dust covered bench. "Listen pebble I want to be honest with you. The only way for you to stay yourself is if you became my anchor. An anchor is kind of like a reaper's chosen soulmate and we only get a chance to have one every 1000 years of service." This day was getting stranger and stranger by the fucking minute. You could live but you would need to become this man's soulmate, basically his wife. Looking at him again you could say you wouldn't enjoy the physical parts of such a relationship. Honestly Kirishima had no business being this sexy. Well if this kind of thing was gonna happen to you Halloween was no better day for it to happen on. Squeezing his hand you agreed even though you knew he had more to explain.

 

"If you're sure then I'll take us to my home so that we can link our souls without turning into dust bunnies." The world around you faded out and changed into a huge bedroom that was painted black and red with posters of an old superhero movie lining them. There was workout equipment everywhere you looked, well that at least told you that his muscles were all from hard work and not just random spooky reaper magic. With no small bit of embarrassment you sat on his bed and rubbed your fingers across the covers looking anywhere but him. Taking you straight into his bedroom instead of a living room or something told you exactly what you had been guessing at. Linking souls was definitely going to require sexual contact. "Pebble look at me." Looking up you took him in once again almost drooling over his now shirtless chest as he loosened his belt giving you a tantalizing look at his black happy trail. He walked up to you and held your cheeks in his hands. He searched your eyes for a few moments and when he saw no fear or rejection lowered his head to give you a kiss. This kiss was slow and gentle but full of so much heat you were sure every nerve in your body was on fire. Kirishima's tongue licked across yours as he savored the taste of his soon to be anchor. Not wanting to just sit there and take it you put your all into the kiss licking his teeth, nibbling on his lips, and even sucking on his tongue the same way you wished to suck on another part of his body. Kirishima broke the kiss panting heavily as he let his hands caress down your neck until they reached the collar of the t-shirt you wore. With barely a flick of his fingers your shirt was torn down the middle, your bra sharing its fate. He pushed the shredded material down your shoulders letting it fall to the bed.

 

"I'm going to be as gentle as I can for you pebble but I have very limited control over myself at the moment. Your so fucking beautiful I swear my supervisor gave me your case cause he knew I'd fall for you." Crawling over you he straddled your waist and began to kiss and bite down your neck stopping only when he reached your breast. Pushing both your breasts together he kissed every inch of them worshiping the heavy mounds. With no warning he sucked both of your nipples into his mouth, bathing them with his tongue before biting them. After every bite he flicked his tongue against the hardened peaks earned himself little whines and moans of appreciation. Once he felt that he could no longer hold himself in check with just adoring your nipples, Kirishima slid down off the bed to crouch in front of you for the second time that day. Slipping his fingers under the waistband of your panties and shorts he tugged them down and over your boots leaving you in only your favorite necklace and your socks and boots. His blood was fire in his veins as he took in the sight of you. Your pussy was so beautifully slick with your juices that it would have been blasphemous for him not to take a taste. Grabbing your thighs he used them to pull your ass to the edge of the bed where he drove in with no hesitation. Licking and sucking the lips of your pussy before using his tongue to separate them. Each swipe of his tongue drove you higher and closer to orgasm. He suckled your clit grazing it with those sharp teeth. The hint of danger from having such vicious looking teeth on something so sensitive threw you over the edge. The pleasure made you so mindlessly happy that you screamed out "eijiro." Like it was a prayer.

 

At the sound of his first name on your lips all rational thought was lost to kiri. He stood shoving his pants down just enough to free his throbbing cock before he pulled you so only your shoulders and head remained on the bed. With you folded over the way he wanted Kiri slammed his cock into your tight little hole. He was only able to fit about half of his massive girth inside before he had to pull back out leaving only the head inside. This move was the best he could do to get the right momentum to start his powerful digging thrusts. Each thrust was hard and determined, meant to help him reach his goal. And reach his goal is what he did, Kiri bottomed out inside of you after 5 thrusts. His cock head kissed your cervix on the last thrust pulling a choked sob from your throat. Being folded into such a position only made the stretching of your pussy feel that much more overwhelming. Kiri set up a hard measured pace,his only focus on getting his seed into your womb to link the two of you together. Grunting and growling he told you everything he planned. "Fuck pebble your so damn tight and wet. I need to get my cum inside your womb otherwise I might go insane. No one told me linking to your anchor would make me feel like this. I wanna destroy anyone who would ever think to take you from me." You whined desperately every time his cock head battered against the entrance to your womb. It was too much and not enough at the same time. Reaching up you tried to rub your clit only for kiri to grab your wrist and hold it in a firm grip. He was almost passed the point of words but managed a beastly sounding "not without me." Before he increased his pace and shifted his hips making sure every thrust hammered your gspot. Kiri leaning over you to rail your little hole was already a sight to see but the way his hair hung down and tickled against your skin made every nerve ending you had buzz with electricity. A few strands had started to cling to his face due to the sweat pouring off of him and you had to swallow to keep from drooling. This man was made for it seemed, he was everything you had ever fantasized about on those lonely treks through the newest abandoned explore. The sounds of your sex echoed through the room, wet sucking noises, the slap of skin on skin and the sounds only two people in a haze pleasure could make. As he got closer kiri started to slap three fingers on his free hand against your clit. The rhythm of the slaps matched his cocks thrusts so perfectly it caused your pussy to let out a constant stream of squirt. At his final thrust he locked his knees prepared for what was to come. Kiri's cum shot from his slit hosing against your cervix as the base of his cock swelled locking inside you. His cum was so hot and he hadn't stopped tapping your clit. All this combined with the swelling of his cock threw you over the edge, an orgasm ripping through your body so hard your eyes rolled back in your head. Once you had gone limp kiri pulled you up into his arms before turning and sitting on the bed, still locked inside you.

 

"You are my anchor now the other part of me that will light my way even in the darkest hour." Laying down kiri relaxed, one large hand stroking your back as your breathing began to even out. Just as you were about to drift off you felt shocks and tingling race up and down your arms. Leaning up you looked down at your arms and found you had developed the same tattoos that kiri had on his arms. When you questioned him on it he smiled happily before caressing each mark. "These are proof that our link is true and blessed by the fate in charge of reaper unions." Your heart did a little flip as you took in his love filled expression. By now Kiri's knot had gone down so you pulled yourself up and off of his semi hard cock. He protested wishing to sleep buried inside you but quieted down when you spun around and put your pussy over his face. Leaning down you took his cock in hand and began to lick all the cum and pussy juice from it. Following your lead kiri pulled your hips down and swiped his tongue through the combination of your fluids and his. Once you had his cock cleaned you started to tease him, digging your tongue into his slit. His hips bucked and his leisurely pace on your pussy became wild as he slurped and sucked away. Feeling mischievous you continued you playing with his slit but began to rub that sensitive spot just under the head of his cock.

 

That is where you went wrong or in this case very right. Kiri's switch was flipped as he lifted you clear in the air by your hips. He threw you into the middle of the room but instead of hitting the floor you stayed suspended in the air. He was using his powers on you! With his magic kiri floated you to sit on his cock no other part of him touching you but the cock pressed at your entrance. "Pretty pebble do your bolder a favor and count for me. I want to see just how much of me is claiming this pussy." You couldn't deny him since keeping silent only made him tease you gently with his tip. Frustrated and wet you began to count each inch. At six you really started to feel the stretching of your inner muscles on this heavy cock. At nine inches you had a little drool running down the corner of your mouth. At twelve inches your pussy was continuously dribbling squirt down Kiri's cock and balls. At fourteen you came whining his name, begging him to fuck you properly and end this delicious torture. All he did was laugh and slowly thrust inside of you keeping you well pleasured but unsatisfied. "It's ok pebble we have all the time in the world now. We're going to take this slow all night long." His last words were said on a beastly growl as he placed one hand on your throat and squeezed enough to make your pussy squeeze his cock in return. This whole Halloween had been nuts so an all night fuck fest with your new supernatural soulmate was just the cherry on top. Sobbing you reached back and grabbed hold of a lock of his hair looking for any part of him to touch that could ground you. His thrusts got harder as you pulled. Well you knew how to get him to fuck you harder. You couldn't wait to learn more tonight and for the rest of your eternity together.