#Reincarnation fanfic

[breesperez139]

Dc x Dp Prompt #6

“I’m a twin”, Damian said one night. He could feel the narrowed eyes of his family drilling holes on his back in disbelief. Not that he could blame them. Damian had never so much as implied being raised with a companion, much less a sibling.

“I had a brother”. Damian paused to recollect himself. He had not said his brother’s name out loud in over 8 years.

“His name was… Danyal”. Damian hated the way his voice wavered, but he could not help it. Danyal was everything to him, his other half. Their heart beat as one and when one heart stopped beating, the other one died with it. At least until his family put his heart on metaphorical life support without ever realizing.

“Where is he now?” His father asked, voice filled with knowing grief and a hint of betrayal. It had in fact been 6 years since Damian first showed up on his doorstep.

“Up there”. All eyes shifted towards the specific star he was pointing to. “Right before he died, he promised me he’d guide me from the stars. Unfortunately, the stars are not visible in Gotham, so my brother is unable to be of much help unless I leave the city.”

“Your brother is Polaris, the North Star?” Tim questioned warily, most likely in attempts to not offend him. Damian was aware of how stupid it sounded, but Danyal had promised, and his brother never broke his promises.

“Yes. Danyal is with the stars now, just as he always wanted”

[chuluoyi]

found you

- gojo satoru x reader

in a world in which he isn't the strongest and you're the high school's sweetheart, fate brought you to him once again

genre/warnings: reincarnation au, fluff/comfort

notes: a sequel to everything, but not anything

general masterlist

Everyone knows you. You hold most of the popular guys' hearts in your hand and either break them unknowingly or innocently, and despite that, they still don't have it in them to hate you.

And of course, the school's clown, Gojo Satoru, knows you too. He knows you by name and face, but never had the chance to really talk to you directly.

Why? First, he just simply didn't bother, and second, because there was already another girl plaguing him—the girl of his dreams.

And he didn't mean it figuratively... there's indeed a girl haunting him every once in a while in his dreams. A girl whose face was always obscured from his mind, whom he couldn't picture outside the realm of his slumber. Most of the time it was a happy dream, enough to bring a smile to his face every time he woke up.

But sometimes, it was the most disturbing nightmare.

There would be blood, the girl's empty eyes and still body, and him screaming out at her to not die. But then he couldn't do anything—or even see her open her eyes—as he fell into an abyss and awakened in pure terror.

Satoru was convinced someone held this massive grudge on him for pranking them that they resorted to curse him with voodoo or something. Why else would he keep having these dreams about the very same girl? It was clearly a work of something greater.

You were just not interested in romance. At least not with the guys who were after you up until now.

Or perhaps, because there was this guy in your dreams that captivated you so much that you chose to ditch those real guys for him. This imaginary person.

You were going insane. You were sure of it.

When you explained your affliction to your best friend Riko, she shot you a very bombastic side eye but tried to get you to describe the boy in your dreams regardless.

"He..." you faltered. His face was always blurry in your mind's eye. There were little things that you were sure of. "He has a really cute grin? Crinkling eyes? Like he just likes to smile?"

"Y/N, did you hear yourself?" Riko asked you incredulously. "Are you sure it isn't one of the guys in your anime shows? I'm telling you, watching them too much makes you delusional."

And so your girl talk with her ended up with her pushing you to try this hit dating app that guarantees you to go on at least one date due to its many fascinating features. You tried it on sheer whim and didn't even use your real name. You had been swiping right and left, before suddenly stopped when you saw whose profile popped up in your screen.

Gojo Satoru.

He was in your grade, and he was hard to miss. The school's biggest troublemaker who held the highest record of being sent to the disciplinary room. You never got to talk to him, and before today you were sure you wouldn't even look at him twice. So he plays these things too?

Your type definitely wasn't delinquents or attention-seekers. But why is it that the more you gaze at his profile picture—of him with this widest grin and that funny round glasses—the more you are intrigued?

In the end, you swiped right.

Just because he didn't bother to be in a serious relationship or had a girl who held onto him in his dreams, it didn't mean that he was shying away from real life girls. Satoru, as much of a headbanger as he was, was popular. Some girls were into him and he didn't exactly let his chances to fool around pass.

Girls with questionable virtues though. Suguru, whose popularity was as much as him just in the right way, would always say that his tastes were bad. Shoko would straight up mock him as a wimp, for not having the courage to go after the right girl, such as you.

And so when on one of his boring days that he played with a dating app he found a profile who swiped him right with a picture that was you but a name that wasn't, he was taken by surprise and twice as curious.

For one, he knew it was you. And hey, you were interested in him?

Satoru took up on that offer. Taking advantage of it as now he had the chance.

The two of you exchanged messages in the dating app. He'd tell you his thoughts or crack funny jokes, and you'd reply with these many laughing emojis and stickers.

Until one day, when your conversation went like this...

you: really? but girls must be lining up for you and you could've had your pick from them gojo: nah most of ‘em all boring you: what a red flag. after a while surely you'll find me boring too gojo: you? haha no. boring people don't do things you do you: ...what do you mean?

You and him had this texting thing going on for more than a month already, but you still weren't aware that he knew that it was you.

gojo: you're y/n

And he figured that it was time to go face-to-face. Because he wanted to get to know you beyond this phone screen because who knows what more you faked other than your name?

After he busted you not so gently, he demanded that you'd go on a date with him. You could only lament—you couldn't say that you hadn't seen this coming, with how poor your disguise was. Then again, did you even intend on hiding from him in the first place? Now that you thought about it, no. You were quite alright even when he knew who you were.

On the said day, just right after school ended, he went to the agreed place to take out out to a famous cafe in Shibuya. Only to find a guy from basketball team bowing his head before you.

"I really like you!" the guy declared with sincerity and steadfastly. He was tall, quite famous too. By all means, the two of you would've made a fine pair.

Satoru just frowned. Suddenly he didn't like the sight before him. This wasn't the first time he saw someone confessing their feelings for you—you were famous for that. And anyway, the two of you were just friends even though you've been texting for a long time now. He shouldn’t be upset.

"Ah," you let out a small sigh, your face lit with realization. Your voice was soft to Satoru's ears. Too soft. It resembled something someone had told him a long, long time ago.

"Don't ever leave me, okay?" "Of course."

That voice held the same softness as you did just now.

"I'm sorry," you proceeded to say, giving a look of sympathy to your admirer. "I'm very flattered, and I thank you for that. But I have no room for—"

"Y/N-chan!" Satoru didn't know where this immense impulse came from, he just went with it and it terribly spooked you. You jumped and whipped your head at him, eyes widened in total surprise.

But he merely sauntered towards you, only with his winning grin and nothing else, until he was right next to you, staring down the basketball guy with so much mirth in his blue eyes.

"Hello to you." Satoru addressed him, then put his arms on your shoulder, ignoring how you immediately stiffened. "Too bad, today she is going with me."

You couldn't believe what he just said and before you could rectify anything, the guy who just confessed to you bolted away in humiliation. You immediately untangled yourself from his arms, ready to be cross.

Or at least until you stared straight to his cerulean blue eyes.

And he too, saw his reflections in your orbs.

Suddenly everything didn't matter. You were lost into his eyes as he did yours. As the lines of dream and reality twisted and turned.

Suddenly, Satoru could put a face to the girl he'd been seeing on his nightly wonders. Her smile. Your smile.

And you could see the boy who loved you to death in him. The one who took your heart with him, and agreed to go with you for the second time.

All it took was gazing into these eyes of yours to make the connection. Everything seems right. So right.

As if the two of you are destined for this very moment. As if you’re given everything to understand why you should meet him now.

I found you.

As sudden as it came flowing to your brain—all these images that overlapped with your dreams—it ended. You came back to reality.

“You’re insufferable,” you hissed at Satoru, pushing away the fog in your mind.

“Am I?” a shit-eating grin formed at his glossy lips. “But it’s true, you’re on a date with me today.”

And so you went to your very first date. Satoru was every bit the same as the guy who messaged you on that dating app. He was outspoken, effortlessly funny, but still, a bit annoying here and there.

It was strange how comfortable you got around him, even though it was practically your first interaction.

Soon the number of dates increased. Two, three, four—and so on. Soon, everyone knows. Riko questioned you if you were sure to pick him out of all fishes you could’ve picked. In a way, you weren’t sure. It depends on this question: what are you to him anyway?

Meanwhile, on Satoru’s side, everyone either cheered for or envied him. Suguru patted him on his back, thinking he finally got the right senses. And he found himself to like you very much. He couldn’t go a day without thinking what you were doing or messing with you. You were kind, cute and pretty, and as he said it himself, he likes pretty things.

So it came as a surprise when you blurted out that burning question, sounding so unsure and overall out of your character, whereas you should already know how he put his heart on his sleeves for you to grab.

“Are you messing with me?” he gawked. But when he saw hurt crossed on your face, he was thrown into panic. “No—I mean…”

He exhaled sharply. He wasn’t used to this confessing thing at all because usually he didn’t need it.

“I really like you, okay? You do know that I like you, at the very least?”

With that, your relief was visibly palpable, like a sun that went out of its hiding. The hopeful gleam in your eyes—Gods, Satoru wanted to protect that forever.

“With that being said…” he wanted to look cool, he didn’t want to mess this up. And so he extended his hand to you, opening his palm.

“Would you go out with me?”

It was probably the first time you saw him so sincere. He was playful, flippant and overall just a menace, but when he asked you this, he looked as if he brought out his heart for you to see.

When you breathed out a “Yes”, and intertwined your fingers in his, he was over the moon, smothering you with kisses.

From that point onwards, your romance book was brimming with moments that sparkled, ranging from the sweet to the passionate. Each experience with him felt like a first, yet there was an inexplicable sense of familiarity, as if you had known him somewhere from a long time ago.

Those dreams of you and him from somewhere at another time brought the two of you together once again. With their purpose fulfilled, you no longer had to traverse the realm of dreams to be with the boy who had always provided you comfort with his presence. Likewise, he was no longer haunted by the recurring vision of you fading away before his eyes.

Because now, you and Gojo Satoru have a new life. A life where both of you can find happiness together.

[frantic-fiction]

I'll Find My Way Back to You

(Can't find source of pic if it's yours let me know)

Astarion x GN!Reader

Prompt: A century after Tav passes Astarion comes across an artist who is oddly familiar and paints moments that seemed to be pulled straight from Astarion's life.

Thank you to @justporo for letting me use their idea. Go show them some love.

Warnings: Tav's death, brief mention of s*icide, angst with a happy ending

Word Count: 4.6k (Oops kinda went overboard)

Masterlist

“There’s no world I wish to live in without you,”

“My dear Astarion, we will find our way back to each other. This is not the end.”

Over a century has passed—a long, lonely century without Tav by his side. Astarion doesn’t understand how he’s endured, not with the void in his chest that appeared the moment he laid them to rest. The absence of his person, his love, his Tav, has left Astarion once again alone. 

For nearly a decade, he found himself trapped in a state of near-catatonia, a prisoner of time within their empty home. He wasted away, the days blending into one another, each marked by a silent ache in his chest—the void left by Tav’s departure. Tears soaked into the earth of the carefully tended grave, adorned with vibrant flowers from Tav’s garden. He often contemplated surrendering to the sun’s embrace, letting its rays turn his existence to ash for a semblance of peace.

He yearned to end the pain, yet he refrained. He made a promise whispered with heavy hearts and painful sobs—a promise that forced them to confront the harsh reality that Tav would always leave first. Instead of embracing the end, Astarion wasted away, a ghost of his former self, yearning for the return of his love. Change arrived when Tav visited him in a dream; the details were blurry, but Tav’s beautiful smile was etched in memory. The sweet words in that dream eluded him, yet upon waking, a faint lightness settled within him. Astarion graced the night with a flicker of energy for the first time since Tav’s passing.

Tav would have wished for him to move on. They would have wanted him to live. The stagnant life he clung to wasn’t what Tav would want for him. So that day, Astarion gathered his essentials into a bag and set forth as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon. Only momentarily stopping to bid his love a final, tearful farewell. Since that moment, he hasn’t stopped moving.

Astarion believed Tav would take pride in the life he’s built—the good he’s accomplished over the many years. He traversed all over Faerun, from Waterdeep to Skull Crag, never lingering in one place for too long. He wasn’t the hero Tav was, but he aided towns against monsters, dispatched goblins, and took odd jobs to help however he could. Throughout his travels, he dedicated most of his time to sharing stories of Tav, ensuring their memory lived on. When he first heard the bards’ songs recounting the Hero of Baldur’s Gate, he knew he had succeeded. Now, you can’t sit in a tavern without hearing tales and melodies about Tav.

Every day, he longed for Tav to be by his side. He yearned to feel their soft skin, experience their tender kisses, and sense their warm arms encircling his waist—the echo of their laughter dancing in his ears. He missed every aspect of Tav and would do anything to see them again. Yet, the world ran out of miracles for him. Instead, he learned with time to cope, to come to terms with their absence, and keep them close to his heart. 

***

Astarion traverses the dusty cobblestone of Wyrm’s Crossing and finds himself back in the heart of Baldur’s Gate—a city he’s consciously avoided for most of the century. It’s a place drenched in memories from his past life with Cazador, but mostly, the streets seem to be haunted by the presence of Tav.

His return to Baldur’s Gate remains shrouded in mystery. All he can discern is that he awoke one day in Daggerford, gripped by an inexplicable yearning to revisit the city. A compelling force tugging him down the Sword Coast, Astarion initially dismissed it as mere homesickness, scoffing at the notion. Yet, the persistent thought lingered, infesting his mind until he could no longer ignore the instinct to return.

The city remains strikingly unaltered despite the passage of time and the trials it endured. The same piss-stained cobblestone, alleyways cluttered with remnants of urban life, and a diverse array of inhabitants navigating the night. It’s an unsettling constant, especially juxtaposed against the transformation of Astarion’s existence.

Wandering through the back alleys and side streets, Astarion meanders aimlessly. Occasionally, a sight triggers memories, evoking a lump in his throat. The Elfsong Tavern, once familiar, now bears a different name and identity, a formal establishment concealing the echoes of nights spent in Tav’s comforting embrace. Bloomride Park, the graveyard, and the docks—all weave together, painting a vivid tapestry of Tav’s omnipresence.

Amidst the tumult of emotions, Astarion grapples with why he subjected himself to this emotional turmoil. The urge to retreat, to flee Baldur’s Gate before the dawn breaks, lingers within him. Yet, the itch persists, buried deep within his bones, propelling him forward. He silently promises himself the night to wander the city, and by this time tomorrow, he will be on his way to another town for another adventure.

Venturing into a dim, isolated street, Astarion observes a solitary lamplight spilling its soft glow from a store window. Peering through, he discovers a small art studio. Within, a graceful elf seems to dance with a paintbrush, each stroke deliberate yet flowing. Like a harpie song, Astarion is mesmerized and utterly captivated. He watches on silently, observing the elves happily consumed with their work. It gives him a wave of nostalgia, moments of watching Tav as they painted, unaware he was watching from the door. Astarion could almost hear the sweet hums that filled the room between brush strokes. 

Then he freezes, gaze snapping to the paintings that adorn the studio, scattered reflections of his life. Images of Karlach, Shadowheart, and all the others grace the space. However, it’s the depictions of himself that seize his breath. Compelled by an unseen force, Astarion walks right into the studio. In a far corner, he sees an intimate portrayal—an embrace that resonates with familiarity. 

The bell rings, and you break from your artistic trance. Startled, you look up, and there stands the pale elf in the doorway—the hero of Baldur’s Gate, Astarion—the man who has clouded your dreams for as long as memory serves. Startled, you look up, and there stands a pale elf in the doorway—the hero of Baldur’s Gate, Astarion—the man who has clouded your dreams for as long as memory serves.

The dreams began as mere fragments—white curls, sharp teeth, delicate hands. Gradually, they evolved into more vivid scenes—muffled conversations by a campfire, laughter and gentle shoves, and stolen kisses between bed sheets—private moments of a stranger, a byproduct of an active imagination intertwined with an elven crush. Or at least that was what your mother would say. Now, the subject of those dreams stands before you.

Astarion, surrounded by the art that mirrors his life, fixates on a miniature portrait. The details are hazy, yet he recalls the campfire, the desperation in his gaze, and a significant confession followed by an embrace.

You pick up a fallen brush with a trembling hand, placing it in a water cup. Asterion was just as breathtakingly beautiful as your dream portrayed, but to see him in person has your heart hammering in your chest and your breath quickening with nerves. Wiping paint-covered hands on your smock, you took a deep breath and gathered the courage to approach Astarion. 

Staring at the portrait, you utter quietly, “This one’s my favorite. Though I wish I could have captured the others’ images better.”

“Tav.”

“I’m sorry?”

“The person you painted. My partner Tav, they used to paint too,” Astarion’s voice carries the weight of unspoken emotions.

“Oh, yes. They were the leader of your group, if I remember correctly. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Astarion remains silent, the canvas now a source of unbearable memories. He moves through the studio, examining the art up close. It’s weird to have your muse perusing around your gallery. It’s embarrassing to have Astarion see just how many pieces have been dedicated to him. What do you do at this point? Should you follow him, tell him about each piece and the dreams behind them? No, that seems pretentious, so you retreat to the canvas you’ve been working on for the better part of the week.

This piece was different—a symbol rather than a person or scene. Rings of unknown runes fan out in jagged edges, evoking a sense of beauty tinged with profound sadness. It disturbed you to your core, but you needed to paint it. It’s how it always goes. Once a dream pops into your head, whether it’s a scene, a person, or a symbol, it refuses to leave until you’ve laid it on a canvas. Picking up the brush, you dip it back into the red paint and continue to bolden the lines. 

“Who are you?” Astarion’s voice is right behind you; you jump, knocking a pot of paint over. Cursing softly, you quickly right the pot, attempting to salvage the spilled paint. Paint isn’t cheap, and in your non-upper-class circumstances, every drop is precious.

“Oh, I’m sorry; I have been very rude,” you offer your name. “I, of course, already know you, Astarion. It’s hard not to come across the tales of the heroes of Baldur’s Gate, but I guess—” Your rambling trails off pathetically as something changes in Astarion. There’s tension in his shoulders, a coldness in his eyes. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you nervously play with a loose thread on the smock.

Astarion scrutinizes you with a piercing gaze, his eyes lingering on your face as if searching for hidden truths. The air becomes taut, charged with an almost palpable intensity. Then, as if propelled by an unseen force, he reacts like a tightly wound rubber band snapping. Reaching out, he harshly pulls you to him, bearing his teeth at you. Your stomach drops, shocked by the aggression. 

“Have you been following me? Stalking me?” His voice carries a storm of anger, his grip on your shoulders unyielding, the coldness of his touch akin to ice piercing through the fabric of your being. “Don’t lie to me because I’ve shown one person that fucking scar, and I buried them.”

Your heart races, fear coursing through your veins as you whimper a response, tears welling up in your eyes. “I-I don’t know, I’m sorry,”

“Don’t lie!”

“Please, I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know; I have dreams; I don’t know why, b-but I dream of you,” your voice falters, and your vulnerability is laid bare. “I dream of you, your friends, and places I’ve never been. I’m sorry, I’ll stop, I promise.”

As abruptly as his hands seized you, they vanished, leaving you stumbling to your knees, unable to contain the torrent of tears streaming down your face. Curling in on yourself, you can’t stop the cries of apologies and promises of never picking up a brush again, of burning every last piece in the room. 

Astarion looks down at you, his expression shifting from anger to a complex amalgamation of horror and something else—perhaps realization. Stepping away, he leaves you rooted to the spot. Your gaze fixed blankly out the window. Odd and conflicting emotions swirl within you—fear, confusion, longing?—all clashing fiercely. Amidst the tumult, one thought emerges with undeniable clarity—this won’t be the last time you see Astarion.

*

Astarion’s breaths come in ragged gasps as he runs through the barren streets, escaping the grasp of the haunting memories that threaten to consume him. His thoughts are a raging storm, and he pays no heed to the bewildered faces of those he rudely pushes past. The town of Rivington is a blur as he sprints through it, a desperate escape, picking a direction and refusing to stop until his body aches, halting only when the sun begins its ascent above the horizon.

In his frantic need to run, there was no consideration for shelter from the sun’s relentless rays. Mercifully, he stumbles upon an abandoned cave. Dry, dusty, and shrouded in darkness, it becomes his refuge. In a corner, he sinks slowly against the cool, rough wall to the ground, seeking solace in the obscurity.

Astarion pulls his knee to his chest, pressing his forehead against his crossed arms. Shaking and shivering, a stark contrast to the bitter summer heat enveloping the cave, he clings to his vulnerability. Eyes shut tight, jaw clenched, fingernails dig deep into his arms as if attempting to anchor himself in the reality that threatens to crumble around him.

Desperation claws at him, and he yearns for Tav. The desire to feel Tav’s warm embrace, hands crossing over his chest, pulling him close, torments him. He longs for the soft whispers of love and the gentle press of lips. Astarion can’t navigate this without Tav. He’s a mess, barely holding on, living each agonizing day, acutely aware that the best part of him is gone, and he can do nothing to reclaim it.

The cruelty of encountering such intimate moments from his past life with Tav wounds him deeply. These were moments meant for him and Tav alone. Realizing that a stranger could capture those cherished memories intended for one person alone turns his stomach.

Anger becomes a conduit for his overwhelming emotions, and the terrified look on the artist’s face is etched in his mind, an indelible scar on his conscience. Shame burns within him, a searing reminder of the boundaries he violated. Physically assaulting someone in their own space—what would Tav think of him now?

The artist adds another layer to Astarion’s confusion. The familiarity is uncanny—the excited calf raises, the almost-stumbles afterward, the nervous lip biting, puffed cheeks during deep concentration, and the mindless dancing when no one is watching. Every little thing the artist did mirrored Tav, and with all his memories physically displayed, Asterion finds himself lost in a sea of confusion. Why does this stranger resemble his love so deeply?

The bards’ tales of soulmates and reincarnation, once dismissed as mere children’s stories and fiction, now claw at the edges of Astarion’s consciousness. What if? What if Tav found their way back to him? Weirder things have happened in his long life, and the possibility plants a seed of hope within him.

Yet, he forcefully suppresses that hope. It won’t serve him, not now. Instead, he resolves to learn more. By nightfall, he returns to the city, catching the first boat to Waterdeep. After a day and some change, he stands outside the Wizards’ tower, resentment simmering as he contemplates turning to Gale, his best chance at answers.

A groan escapes Astarion as he hangs his head, and a series of knocks echo on the thick wooden door. “This better be worth it…”

The door swings open on its own into a dimly lit foyer. Astarion follows a familiar path, the cool air and faint scent of ancient tomes embracing him. He ascends the staircase with nostalgia and reluctance, each step echoing the countless times Tav and himself sought knowledge and assistance within these walls.

As he pushes open the study door, a scene unfolds before him. Gale is hunched over a worn scroll, graying hair ruffled, and a small pair of reading glasses set on the tip of his nose. The room is bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, creating an intimate ambiance. Notes adorn the margins, evidence of Gale’s ceaseless quest for understanding.

Gale looks up, a broad, warm smile gracing his features, and Astarion is momentarily transported back to the times when this sage was only a joke he poked fun at across camp. Removing his reading glasses, Gale pushes up from his desk, an air of welcoming familiarity enveloping the room.

“Well, look who the tressym dragged in. How are you, Astarion?”

Astarion stiffens as he is pulled into a spontaneous hug by Gale. The embrace is both unexpected and oddly comforting, a physical manifestation of the genuine camaraderie they’ve shared through the years. Astarion, unaccustomed to such displays of affection, awkwardly pats Gale’s back before gently pulling away.

“I’m afraid I’ve been better.”

Gale’s eyes convey concern and understanding as he gestures for Astarion to sit. The worn chair creaks under the weight of memories and the weightier burden of Astarion’s troubled soul.

“Then sit down, my friend, and tell me how I can help.”

***

Days of tireless research and a network of favors exchanged between magical acquaintances have led them to a glimmer of hope. Though not expansive, the discovery hints at the possibility that souls entwined so tightly may have a magnetic pull toward each other. A pull is so strong that souls can find each other in different lifetimes. Tales have described soulmates experiencing memories from previous lifetimes together, but they were vague at best. The specific remains elusive, shrouded in mystery, yet it’s enough to kindle a spark of hope within Astarion’s lonely heart.

Gale, ever the bore, offers a gentle reminder, “Now, just remember, if you try to force feelings before—”

“I would never!” Astarion’s retort carries a venomous edge, an unspoken warning to watch his following words carefully. Gale raises his hands in defense. 

“My point is the brain is a prickly thing. It’s best not to rush anything it’s not ready for.”

“Yes, yes, you have said this five times already. Would you please activate the portal? I have an apology to make.”

Anticipation hums in the air, a palpable energy that courses through Astarion. A fleeting smile graces his lips, and for a moment, the weight of his grief is replaced by a glimmer of life.

Looking at Astarion with a fondness born of shared trials, Gale responds, “Of course, Astarion.”

With a confident shake of his wrist, he activates the magical circle, and the room is bathed in a radiant glow of bright runes, their purple luminescence dancing in the semi-darkness.

Astarion steps toward the portal, his heart pulsating with trepidation and newfound hope. However, before crossing the threshold, he turns around to face Gale, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Thank you, Gale. I will not forget this.”

“It was my pleasure. Now, I expect to meet this lovely artist sooner rather than later.” Gale’s parting words hang in the air, infused with the hope of rekindling a connection beyond the realms of understanding.

*

Back in the heart of Baldur’s Gate, Astarion swiftly navigated the bustling streets, an air of anticipation accompanying him. His purpose was clear—to reach your studio and beg for your forgiveness. A brief pause along the way allowed him to acquire a small bundle of daisies, a spontaneous choice fueled by the memory of Tav’s fondness for these delicate blooms.

As Astarion approached the studio, a surge of uncertainty clawed at him. Hesitation gripped his every step, the shadow of fear etched across his features. The fear in your eyes during the last encounter was seared into his memory. Had his previous outburst irreparably damaged any chance of reconciliation? The conflicting forces of his desire to see you again and the instinct to flee wrestled within him. Yet, he pressed forward, forcing himself down the street, and there you stood.

The scene that greeted him was a chaotic masterpiece of colors. Paint adorned your cheeks and arms, a testament to the artistic fervor that consumed you. Your hair, a cascade of untamed strands, framed a face that mirrored both exhaustion and creative passion. Astarion had a sudden urge to brush the strands away and press a soft kiss to your cheek, something he often did with Tav.

Your weariness was palpable—shoulders slumped, eyes half-lidded. Perhaps, he pondered, he should postpone this encounter, allowing you the reprieve of rest. The realization that he might be the last person you wanted to see compelled Astarion to take a step back, an unspoken retreat.

But just as he moved to leave, your eyes jumped up to meet his, you froze mid-stroke, and Astarion couldn’t read your expression. He should go. Why did he think this was a good idea? He’s just about to run when you nod for him to come in. Obliging, Astarion found himself standing awkwardly within the studio; you went back to painting. Your brush danced across the canvas, applying a vibrant shade of blue in deliberate strokes. Astarion’s attempts to break the silence faltered, his words dissolving into the room’s stillness.

“What are you doing here, Astarion?” The steadiness in your voice pierced the calm. You tried to hold on to your anger for the man all week. But upon seeing him standing so lost on the street had your resolve crumbling. You can’t deny the mild excitement that fluttered through your veins upon seeing him again.

His voice, momentarily lost, found its way back. “I-I came here to apologize for last week. My behavior was deplorable, and I wish to make things right.”

A wry amusement flickered in your eyes as you evaluated the bouquet, now slightly worse for wear under his tight grip. “And you believe a bundle of broken daisies would win you my forgiveness?”

Astarion, caught off guard, looked down at the bruised bouquet. “Um…well, I was hoping for roses, but they were fresh out.”

A snort escaped you as you put down your paintbrush and approached him. A tentative touch on his forearm transferred the flowers from his grasp to yours, eliciting a shiver down his spine. The longing to reach out is strong, but Astarion holds still as you retreat.

Intently studying the daisies, you began to divide the bundle into two piles. Astarion watched silently, recognizing echoes of Tav’s essence reflected in your actions. While understanding that you were not Tav, the profound sorrow gripping his heart seemed to ease in your presence.

“Half,” you declared suddenly.

“Pardon?”

“Half of the daisies survived.”

“And where does that leave us?”

With a theatrical flair, you pondered the question, pacing the room. “That, good sir, is the question. What is my forgiveness worth? I did luck out; daisies are my favorite, so you’re a step farther than roses would have gotten you.” 

Astarion, grasping the playful undertone, decided to play along. With a hand on his hips and a wicked smirk, he responded, “Well, I am a pretty lucky man. Now, please, I beg, what more can I do to gain your forgiveness?”

You hummed softly, tapping your chin. You keep Astarion in suspense for a moment before you suddenly turn to the man. “How about…I get dressed, you take me out to dinner, and we’ll go from there?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” The agreement hung in the air, a hope for something more lingering. 

***

The dinner evolved into an evening stroll, a seamless transition from pleasant chatter to playful banter. It was an unexpected evening, but the time spent with Astarion was so easy, so familiar you didn’t want it to end. Reading about the saviors of Baldur’s Gate was intriguing, and dreaming of a vampiric elf held its allure, but nothing compared to the tangible presence of the real Astarion.

Astarion embodied the epitome of perfection – handsome, intelligent, and endowed with a wit that had you giggling all night. He was the quintessential gentleman, the embodiment of every mother’s hopeful wish for their child.

What started as a single date quickly snowballed into a series of enchanting encounters – one date led to two, then five, until you found yourself drawn into his orbit every week. The pace was exhilarating, and being around Astarion felt like being charged with an electric current. It was not just addictive; it was a whirlwind of happiness, and you couldn’t help but revel in it.

If one indulged in whimsical tales, the idea that Astarion might be your soulmate would have crossed your mind. His ability to read you so intimately sometimes felt like he delved into the depths of your mind.

The dreams persisted, evolving into a kaleidoscope of memories that intertwined your moments with Astarion and a phantom era where someone else shared his company. Astarion, at times, would cast glances at you as you transferred another dream to canvas, an anticipation lingering in his eyes. Despite his attempts, he couldn’t veil the disappointment when the visions resulted in nothing more than another painting adorning the wall.

Then, it occurred on a serene spring day, three years since Astarion first entered your studio. The sun had yet to set, and you found solace curled up with Astarion. Limbs tangled, chests pressed together, hands intertwined – a tableau of intimate connection. His cold nose nestled against the crook of your neck, his white curls playfully tickling your nose.

Behind your closed eyelids, soft images of a forest clearing unfolded – Astarion shirtless, beckoning you towards him. Something clicked, and suddenly, the foreign memories that greeted you each night became a mosaic of your own experiences. The floodgates opened, overwhelming you with a lifetime of moments – kisses beneath the stars, laughter resonating around a campfire, and heart-stopping close calls with death.

Astarion often spoke of Tav, a robust and kind soul who played a pivotal role in shaping him. He wouldn’t be who he is today without them. You now knew a bit better; yes, you had nudged him along the way, but his growth was his own, and you couldn’t be more proud. To think of the years he spent without you, the grief he must have had to push through. If the roles were reversed, you don’t believe you would have been strong enough to keep going.

Startled from his slumber, Astarion found your body descending upon his, your hand meeting his chest with firm slaps. “Stop you, little gremlin.” Groggily, he attempted to restrain you in a tender embrace. He was met with your swift departure from his lap. He heard the patter of your feet retreating from the bed.

“You are a bastard, Astarion!”

Fully alert and by your side instantly, “What did I do, my sweet?”

Worry etched into every crease of his face as he cupped your jaw, looking frantically into your eyes. You intertwined your fingers with his, your other hand reaching out to caress the skin of his hip. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

Astarion scrutinized your face, his eyes delving deep into yours. The faintest furrow of his brows betrayed his thoughts. As if following an unspoken script, he pulled you in by the waist, foreheads gently meeting.

Glistening with unshed tears, Astarion whispered, “You remember?” His voice trembled.

“Yes… maybe it’s all still tangled. But yes, I remember Tav – well, I remember us.”

Astarion’s smile widened, his fangs peeking out, and his lips met yours in a heated kiss spinning the two of you around the room. It was a slow dance of lips as if Astarion had all the time in the cosmos to savor this moment. While you could quickly lose yourself in the embrace, you were privy to all his subtle tricks. You turned your face when he attempted to draw you back into the kiss.

“Gods, Astarion, for three years, you knew and never said anything. I’ve painted you for almost as long as I could wield a brush, and for three years, you knew why!” Another slap graced his chest, and tears trickled down your cheeks, eagerly wiped away by his thumbs.

“I wanted to, my love. The moment I realized I wanted to. But this couldn’t be rushed; you can’t rush the mind.”

“Star, I’m so sorry I took so long,”

“No, stop; you took as long as you needed to return to me.” His forehead rests against yours once more, and the room stands still for a moment. “What matters is you’re here, in my arms, and I’m not letting go anytime soon.”

A choked sob mingled with a chuckle, and you nuzzled closer into Astarion, hiding your face into his neck. “Gods, I love you, Astarion.”

“And I love you.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Okay loves, let me know what you think. I've been working on this for over a week and still find some sections I'm not all that happy with, but I want to move on to other pieces. Any and every interaction makes my day.

Taglist: heartfully10, ayselluna

[punkshort]

Can You Remember Who You Were?

Pairing: Dave York x f!reader

Summary: When you struggle to stop obsessing about the handsome stranger you met at a coffee shop who ghosted you after one date, fate eventually forces you back together.

Warnings: language, possessive behavior, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, oral sex (f!receiving), omegaverse dynamics, alcohol consumption, minor physical altercation

WC: 9.1K

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

A/N: For @burntheedges's Roll a Trope challenge I got reincarnation. I also mixed in some a/b/o stuff because I've always wanted to give it a try. Go easy on me, I'm nervous about this one - hope you enjoy. And thank you to @txtattoostark for holding my hand.

When you first met, it was happenstance. An awkward run-in at your favorite coffee shop where he thought your coffee was his until he read your name written on the cup aloud and had the grace to look bashful when he handed it over. A moment later, his own order was ready and you caught the name Dave scrawled on the side. He smiled and raised his cup to you before taking a sip and wishing you a good day before disappearing out onto the busy street.

It was a simple interaction. Nothing terribly special. But you couldn't stop thinking about him the rest of the day.

Dave, Dave, Dave.

Dave, with the soft, gentle brown eyes. Dave, with the chiseled, clean shaven jaw and strong, angular nose. Dave, with the broad shoulders that strained underneath his blue button-down shirt. Dave, with the bare ring finger that still had a visible, yet faded, tan line.

Something about him stuck with you. You felt drawn to him. Connected, somehow, yet you didn't even know him.

After the weekend passed, you managed to clear him from your mind, if only because you stayed as busy as possible. You cleaned your apartment top to bottom. You went to a concert for a band you didn't even like with your friends. You even called your parents and suffered through another phone call where you heard about your brother and sister's lives, how their respective children were, how your brother got a promotion and your sister was thinking of having a third baby. The unspoken question hung heavy in the air, your parents already knowing the answer and predicting your negative reaction by now, so it remained unsaid. But it still stung to be compared to your siblings in that way. Your parents had a skewed notion that maybe it would encourage you to try a little harder if they kept pointing out your brother's success and your sister's natural instinct for motherhood, but it only made you draw into yourself tighter.

Once it was Monday again, you dragged yourself to work. You were so tired from your overly busy weekend that you didn't even think about Dave when you entered the coffee shop. You stood in line, zoning out and in desperate need of caffeine when the door swung open and shut behind you and the sound of dress shoes tapping on the hardwood floors neared.

"Promise not to steal your coffee again."

You swiveled around, eyes wide and heart rattling in your chest when you fixed your gaze on none other than Dave. And much to your dismay, he looked even better than you remembered.

"Oh," you squeaked, subconsciously fixing your hair and glancing around to buy yourself a moment to recover. "Hi again. Two days in a row, what are the odds?" you chuckled dryly, hoping you didn't sound as stupid as you felt. Dave shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled down at you.

"Could've been four but I guess you don't come here on the weekends."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you struggled to respond. Dave took that to mean he caused you offense and quickly rectified it, not wanting to sound like a stalker.

"I'm just kidding."

You laughed and rubbed the scar on the back of your neck, your head spinning. Was he just kidding? Did he come here over the weekend? And if he did, was he hoping to run into you?

"I work around the corner," you explained, telling him the company you worked for. Your mother would have scolded you for telling a stranger where you worked, especially one who might have just admitted to coming to the coffee shop in the hopes of running into you, but you knew it was safe. You didn't know how you knew, you just knew.

Dave nodded and was about to speak when the barista ushered you forward so you could place your order. Before you had a chance to pull out your wallet, Dave leaned over you to tell the barista you were together and added his order before handing over his card.

You couldn't stop the shudder that went down your spine when you heard him speak so close to you, the vibrations of his voice sending a current of electricity through you. At this distance, you could practically smell him, too, and it wasn't just his cologne. It was something else that you couldn't identify but had you weak in the knees.

To be polite, you turned to deny his offer, but he spoke first. And when he did, telling you not to argue and he was happy to do it, his voice deepened and the timber alone caused your body to weaken and your eyes cast down obediently.

"Do you work around here, too?" you asked once you got your coffees and you thanked him for the third time.

"No, I don't."

He walked towards the door and held it open for you, a fourth thank you slipping from your lips. You got the feeling he liked hearing you so thankful and sweet. He smiled every time you said it.

"What brings you out this way, then? Do you live nearby? I don't think I've seen you here before."

Dave walked you to the corner where a shiny, black BMW sat parked.

"Let's just say there's something about the atmosphere I like at this place."

Your face flushed and you took a sip from your coffee, burning your tongue in the process, while you tried to think of something to say. Then you heard the bells from a nearby church and you were stricken with panic.

"Oh, shit! It's already eight?" you asked, yanking your phone out to check the time. You were already late and you still had a ten minute walk ahead of you.

"Come on, get in," Dave said, holding open the passenger side door. "I'll drop you off. You said it's just down the street?"

You contemplated his offer for about three seconds before nodding and jumping into his car. In only took him about two minutes to drop you off in front of your building but you couldn't stop thanking him the entire way, something that continued to delight him.

The rest of the week followed the same pattern. You showed up at your usual time and mysteriously, Dave would appear within a few minutes. He would insist on buying your coffee and on nice days, he would walk you to work. If it was rainy or windy, he would drive you.

By Friday he finally asked for your number and by Saturday you were getting ready for your first date.

Shannon was your age but she always seemed to be so much wiser and grounded. She had a very different view on life, but she was sweet and fun and you got along the moment you met. While you were used to going out to bars on a Friday night, Shannon preferred to stay in and read about horoscopes, take stock of her essential oils, do some light yoga, or scour eBay for rare crystals. You thought she was a hippie, she preferred spiritually inclined.

Regardless of your differences, she still was a wonderful person and was always there for you. Whether you were going through a bad breakup or upset about something your mom said, she would always be there to listen, rub your back, and kindly suggest a way to unblock your chakra.

You had a handful of other friends who would gladly come over and drink wine while you tried on outfits and help with your makeup, but that wasn't what you needed. You had something else entirely on your mind and you couldn't think of anyone else who might be able to help besides Shannon.

"I've been having dreams."

Shannon raised an eyebrow so far up, it got lost under her curly blonde bangs and thick rimmed glasses.

"What sort of dreams?"

You sighed and sat down on the edge of your bed, your dress partially zipped. "About Dave. And me. And it's just... strange."

Shannon shifted a bit on your mattress, her clunky jade bracelets knocking together in the process. "Go on."

"It feels like a reoccurring dream, but it's not exactly the same. The feeling is the same, though."

"I see," she said thoughtfully. "And what are you doing in these dreams?"

Your face warmed up and you stared at the floor when you said, "Well, we're having sex. But it's not just sex. It's different. Like," you waved your hands in the air as you struggled to come up with an explanation. "I know this will sound crazy, but it feels like in my dreams, we have more of a connection. Like, a purpose or something? And in my dreams it feels so much more intense compared to other guys I've slept with."

"How so?"

You had to give her credit. Shannon was too kind to ever tease you.

"Intense like... if we don't fuck, I'll go certifiably insane."

"Oh," she said, nodding her head, completely unphased. "Interesting. It kind of sounds like something I've read about once before. Have you ever heard of -"

Your doorbell buzzed and you leapt off the bed. "Oh, my god! Zip me up! He's here!"

When you flung your front door open, Dave spun around with a smile, one which widened when his eyes drifted appreciatively up and down your frame.

"Hey," you said breathlessly, feeling that magnetic pull low in your belly again just at the mere sight of him.

"You look beautiful," he told you, and just as he was about to lean in and kiss your cheek, he spotted Shannon emerge from your bedroom behind you with a little wave.

"Oh, this is my friend, she was helping me get ready," you said, turning to introduce them while you grabbed a leather jacket and your purse.

"Have a great time, I'll lock up when I leave."

You both thanked her before heading outside towards Dave's car. His arm naturally found its place protectively around your waist and you practically glowed from his touch.

Dave picked a restaurant that you'd never heard of and when you walked inside, you quickly figured out why. It was easily the fanciest place you had ever eaten and if it wasn't for his reassuring touch or warm smile, you would have felt out of place. But once you sat down, the rest of the room melted away and it was just the two of you in your own little world. The entire time you both were leaning across the table, bodies pulling closer and closer on their own accord as you absorbed every little detail about each other. You learned Dave used to be in the military and now works as an operative in the CIA, something that should have intimidated you but it just made him more attractive. He was a protector, he knew how to handle himself and he was smart, qualities which turned you on and had you yearning for more.

When he admitted to being recently divorced, the hairs on your arm stood up and jealousy bloomed hot in your chest. The sudden idea of him with another partner unlocked something inside you that screamed mine, mine, mine.

By all accounts, your first date was perfect. There was never any lack of topics for conversation, you always felt perfectly at ease and safe, and it went by way too fast even though you were the last table to leave the restaurant.

But when he dropped you off and walked you to your door, something changed from that point forward. He kissed you, gently and sweetly at first, but when your lips brushed together for the very first time it set something on fire inside you that you couldn't ignore. You had no idea how it happened, but the next thing you knew he was pinning you up against your door, your wrists captured in each of his massive hands and held next to your head while his tongue licked aggressively into your mouth.

Then you released a little whimper, a little cry against his mouth and it nearly brought him to his knees. The needy sound reverberated through his entire being and had him forgetting who he was, where he was, what planet he was on because that little sound had his body and mind responding in a way he couldn't explain.

And it frightened him.

He pulled away and put some distance between you, palm dragging over his wet mouth, eyes hungrily devouring your wrecked state. Still leaning against the door, you panted heavily and stared at him through heavy lidded eyes.

He scratched at something invisible behind his ear and took a deep, steadying breath.

"I should go."

You frowned, still trying to catch your breath. "W-what? Was it something -"

Dave quickly shook his head and stepped further away.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow," he promised, then turned on his heel, practically running back to his car while you stood there, completely dumbfounded.

As it turned out, you did not hear from him the following day. Nor did you see him at your coffee spot the entire fucking week. By Tuesday, after sending a few pathetic texts that went unanswered, you forced yourself to accept reality.

Dave ghosted you and you would never see him again.

It was just one date. You only knew him for a week but it felt like so much more and you couldn't help but be torn up about it.

On Tuesday night, you called Shannon to tell her. You did your best not to cry but she could hear it in your voice.

"It felt like such a strong connection, you know?" you said sadly, plucking at a loose thread on your sweater.

"Well, what do you think happened?"

You shrugged and tossed yourself backwards onto your bed. "I don't know. The date went great, he dropped me off at the front door, we were kissing and things were getting heated and then all of the sudden, just -" you snapped your fingers. "He had to leave. Said he would talk to me the next day and I never heard from him again."

You heard her hum on the other end and clink a spoon in her mug. "Suppose my silly theory was wrong, then."

"What theory?"

"The dreams you were having and the feelings you were describing sounded like something I've read in one of my books, I wondered if it were real."

One of her books. You rolled your eyes, knowing she had a very strange collection of reference material spanning from meditation and Hinduism to books about Karma and the Kama Sutra.

Even so, you humored her and let her continue.

"Do you believe in past lives?" she asked. You hid your scoff behind your hand and cleared your throat.

"Uh, can't say that I do."

"That's okay, I know it's a bit out there, but it sounds very much like you might have a connection with this man that supersedes this earthly plane. And what I mean is, you may be destined to be together."

"Like, soulmates?" you asked dubiously.

"Mmm, not exactly. What I'm thinking is a little more physical. I have a book that talks about reincarnation and the ability to imprint on another person to the degree where the link follows you throughout all your lives. If it's at all possible, you will always find each other. Although it's usually pretty rare..."

"What do you mean, if it's possible?"

Shannon flipped through some pages of a book, humming under her breath before she said, "Well, if one of you comes back as a bear and the other a human, odds are it won't be a happy reunion."

You couldn't help it, you had to laugh. Shannon wasn't offended. She knew you didn't mean any disrespect and her beliefs were a little more difficult for others to understand.

"Okay, thank you. I needed a reality check," you said with a smile. "I hear what you're saying: we just met and there's zero reason for me to be acting this way."

"No, that's not at all what I mean," Shannon replied. "I haven't actually known anyone personally who went through something like this, but I've read about this phenomenon online."

"Alright, this is getting a little too weird, even for me," you said, sitting up in bed.

"Just Google it!" Shannon told you before you finished your call. "Read what others have said and see if you can relate."

You promised her you would give it a try the next day but you never got around to it. Instead, you went back to moping and staring at your ignored texts to Dave for the rest of the week.

By the time Friday came, you were ready to blow off some steam, refusing to spend another night wasting away over some man who just happened to be an insanely good kisser and whose scent you couldn't erase from your memory.

You agreed to go out with a small group of girls after work. The alcohol buzzing in your veins and the loud music in the bar helped you forget about Dave, but when other men approached you to dance, you just couldn't do it. You politely turned them down and stayed with your co-workers, Dave's rejection still leaving its mark on you. You listened to them complain about a team lead they couldn't stand who got a promotion she didn't deserve and then, as they began to drink a little more, discussed the finer qualities of the cute guy in the mail room.

In retrospect, leaving by yourself when you became too tired wasn't the best choice. You had a longer walk back to your bus stop than usual and it was eerily quiet out, but you wrapped your arms around yourself and kept your head down. And it almost worked, too, until you heard a familiar voice behind you.

"Need a ride, pretty girl?"

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and you kept pushing forward after tossing a no, thanks over your shoulder.

"Don't need to be rude," the voice replied, now much closer. You glanced around nervously and didn't see another soul on the street. Only parked cars.

You moved faster but it wasn't good enough. A hand clasped onto your shoulder, grip firm and frightening, and fear shot through you. You broke out into a cold sweat when he pushed you against a building, caging you in and leering down at you, his sour breath poisoned by alcohol. You recognized him as someone from the bar but before you had a chance to process anything else, two massive hands dug into his shoulders and yanked him away in the blink of an eye.

You shirked away when you heard a fist meeting soft tissue, then the clattering of teeth and a pained groan. Your savior's voice growled threateningly, warning the man to get the fuck out of here before I put you in the goddamn hospital, then you heard the squeaking of shoes against concrete and hurried, retreating footsteps down the street.

You were scared. He could sense it. He could fucking smell it. It made his skin crawl and his stomach turn.

Dave's voice was so deep and gravelly, you didn't even recognize him. Not until he crouched in front of you on the street, his dark eyes filled with worry as they scanned your face for any injury did you realize it was even him. Tears welled up in your eyes and he cupped your face. He looked like he was in extreme pain as he watched your tears begin to fall. He then stood, scooping you up so he could carry you to a nearby parked car.

"I'm going to take you home," he said when he placed you gently in the front seat. You had about fifteen seconds to gather your thoughts while he hurried around to the other side of his car.

"Why are you here, Dave?" you asked when he turned his key in the ignition. He paused momentarily before putting his seatbelt on and merging onto the empty street.

"Right place, right time," he muttered. He was gripping the steering wheel so tight, his knuckles turned white. You watched him closely from the passenger seat, not believing him for one second but for some inexplicable reason, it didn't frighten you. In fact, you liked it. The idea of Dave being nearby, possibly watching you, made you feel safe and protected, although you hardly knew him.

You took a deep breath, about to muster up the courage to ask him why he had ignored you all week when you were suddenly overwhelmed with his scent. You couldn't describe it but it was a smell uniquely tied to him. You made a little noise in the back of your throat and squirmed in your seat, desperately trying to stay focused and present, but your body had other plans.

Dave's eyes shifted to you, his nostrils flaring at the way your legs rubbed together and your breath picked up and then he smelled it: the first scent of your arousal in the air. That was all it took for him to forget who he was and succumb to his baser instincts.

His cock throbbed painfully hard in his jeans and his molars were practically ground to dust by the time he arrived at your apartment. You fumbled with the seatbelt, desperate to disappear inside and pretend this embarrassing interaction never happened, but you weren't fast enough. Dave had gotten out of the car so quickly that he was already yanking your door open and violently pulling the seatbelt away from your waist. You blinked up at him as if you were trying to clear your vision and jumped out of the car.

Something felt wrong.

You had an ache between your legs that was growing impossible to ignore and your brain was a hazy, swirly mess being so close to his scent. Did someone spike your drink at the bar?

"Thanks," you whispered, chest rising and falling faster as you tried to drag in more air. Your skin was far too sensitive. All you could think about was getting inside before you tore your clothes off in the middle of the parking lot. "I'll, um, see you around, I guess."

He nodded, his neck and cheeks tinted pink as he stared down at you hungrily. "Wait," he croaked when you made a move to leave, eyes burning red hot into you. "Can we - can I explain - fuck," he winced, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to block your scent from his nostrils so he could take a second to fucking think. He felt like he was going insane and he had no idea why.

"You wanna come inside and explain why you haven't talked to me in a week?" you asked bitterly, your arousal temporarily forgotten. "Why you've been ignoring me? Why you made me feel terrible? I was out tonight trying to forget you, Dave. I was hoping it would be the first night all week I didn't cry, but it's too late for that."

He swallowed thickly, eyes all wide and filled with despair as he gazed down at you. "I made you cry?" he asked softly. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him that he failed, that he did the one fucking thing he shouldn't have done.

You huffed and crossed your arms before looking away. "You hurt my feelings, Dave," you mumbled.

His heart lurched in his chest and he took a step forward to gently cup your face. Despite your anger, you gazed up at him with glassy eyes and almost immediately melted into his touch.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm so, so sorry. Will you let me explain?"

Reluctantly, you nodded and allowed him to trail after you to your front door.

You flicked the lights on in your kitchen and living room before turning around. Dave stood there looking too big in your average sized apartment, gaze drifting over your walls, your pictures, your plants, your life.

With a little distance, he could feel the clouds clearing and his senses returning, so he took a steadying breath before speaking.

"About last week," he began. You were in the middle of closing your curtains when you turned around to listen. "I didn't want to scare you, but something happened to me that night." You frowned, pulling the curtains closed the rest of the way and took a few steps towards him. Almost instantly he could smell you again, the wetness between your legs practically calling to him, and he quickly held up both hands so you would stop.

"You gotta stay over there," he warned. Hurt flickered over your face but you obeyed and stepped back until you were by the window again. After a moment, the air cleared enough so he could focus and he slowly dropped his hands back to his sides. He was so hard, it almost made him sick.

"I'm sorry," he said once again. "That's part of what I'm talking about. When you're close to me," he pursed his lips and dropped his chin to his chest while you patiently waited for him to continue. "When you're close to me, I can't fucking think straight. And I know it sounds dramatic," he chuckled, looking back up at you across the room. "I know it sounds like I'm making it up but I promise you, I'm not."

"I think I know what you mean," you said softly after a quiet moment. His eyebrows raised a bit, curious for you to elaborate. "It's like... your scent."

"Yes!" Dave exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "I don't understand it but you're giving off a scent and it's doing something to me. Something that frightens me."

You swallowed nervously and took a small step forward.

"Would you... hurt me?"

Dave's eyes went wide and he vigorously shook his head.

"No," he whispered, "never."

You took another step forward and his eyes flickered down to your feet.

"Then what would you do to me?"

His eyes slid shut and he crossed his arms over his chest. What wouldn't he do to you? He would bury his face between your legs until you screamed his name. He would stuff you full of his cock over and over, as many times as you could take it. He wanted to leave love bites all over your body so anyone looking at you would know you're his.

But that would be absurd. You just met and only had one date.

Without even needing to open his eyes, he knew you were closer. The thick smell of your slick filled the air, swirling around him, driving him to the brink of insanity until he was convinced the only cure would be to fuck you senseless.

"I feel it, too, Dave," you whispered, your hands coming up to pull lightly on his arms, unknotting them from their protective place over his chest. You nipped hesitantly at his neck, your lips puckering over his tanned skin, and he felt his resolve crumble.

"Fuck, what is this?" he breathed, his body pulling him forward. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. His mouth pressed into your hair, deeply breathing in your scent, then he dragged his mouth lower. His tongue flicked out to taste your skin, the burst of flavor - you - making his head swim the closer he got to the back of your neck. Before he reached the scar you kept hidden by your hair, he pulled back, gasping for air.

"Come with me," you said with heavy lidded eyes and wet, parted lips. He nodded and followed you, logic and reason fading with each step. He had never felt like this before. It felt like he was being driven by pure instinct, like some kind of animal.

Dave swallowed when you pulled your shirt over your head as you walked, your bare back teasing him with what he could not yet see. Then you worked on your pants, unbuttoning and shimmying out of them as you approached your bed. His cock strained against the metal zipper of his jeans, begging to be touched, begging to be buried deep inside your soaked cunt. And it was soaked. He could see your dampness darkening the fabric of your underwear when you bent forward.

Finally, you turned to face him wearing nothing but your panties and a nervous smile. A low groan escaped from the back of his throat while his gaze drifted slowly down your body, taking in every soft curve and slope while he began to unbutton his shirt.

"You're perfect," he said lowly, shrugging off his shirt before his hands found his belt. "I want you so fucking bad, sweetheart, it hurts. I want to make you mine, make you scream my name til it's the only word you ever remember. I want to fill you up so you're feeling me for days. Want to give you everything you could ever need. Then I want to do it all over again."

Your knees felt weak as you felt another wave of arousal spread through your stomach and between your legs. Shakily, you crawled onto the bed as Dave approached like a predator from the doorway, shedding his clothes and pinning you with an intense stare that, if it were anyone else, would make you nervous.

"You want all that?" he asked you. You were nodding but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the bulge straining in his boxers now that he stepped out of his pants. "Say it," he commanded, and something about his tone made your eyes snap up to his and your spine immediately straighten.

"Yes. I want it. I want you," you replied, then reached your arms out for him to join you. A pleased look passed across his face at your invitation as he kneeled on the bed with you, towering over you with his broad frame, making you feel so small.

He leaned forward with his hands brushing lightly over your shoulders and his lips parted as he admired you openly. Then he murmured, "Lay down and spread your legs," and you felt your stomach flip as you did what you were told.

Dave palmed himself through his boxers when his eyes locked onto the wet spot spreading in your underwear. His long fingers hooked around the fabric and pulled them down, slowly exposing yourself to him. You watched, squirming impatiently, as his eyes turned from brown to almost black when he took a deep breath and spread your legs wide into the bedding.

"I need you," you whimpered. Your skin felt like it was on fire and you were so aroused it almost fucking hurt but you were certain Dave would be able to fix it. You didn't know why or how, but you just knew.

"I know, baby," he said, shifting down so he laid between your legs, his angular nose nudging against your folds and his hot breath fanning over your leaking cunt. You shivered and whined but his big hands held you in place.

"I'm gonna take good care of you, don't worry," was the last thing he said before he placed a sweet kiss on your mound. Then he kissed you again except that time, his tongue flicked out, catching your clit, and the noise that came from your mouth was borderline embarrassing.

"God, you're so wet," he whispered in awe inbetween plunging his tongue in and out of your opening, reveling in the taste of your pussy. The way your scent had engulfed him made him feel insane and the only thing he wanted to do was pull more sweet noises from your lips.

There was no explaining that night. At least, not rationally. The two of you fell into something neither of you experienced before but somehow was all too familiar. You found yourself being far more submissive than you ever were with anybody else, like your body had taken over and knew just what to do. Anything Dave asked of you, you did it, trusting him implicitly.

It was a combination of your sobs and whimpers that drove him forward like an animal, unable to stop eating at your cunt until you came twice from his tongue. You finally had to tug on his hair to pull him away, your skin coated in a thin layer of sweat and chest heaving beneath him.

"Could smell you all fucking night," he admitted hoarsely, wiping his palm over his slick covered mouth. "Drove me crazy, couldn't stop thinking about it. Christ, I- I've never needed someone this badly, baby," he told you as he pushed his boxers off and gripped the base of his cock in his fist. "'M sorry, can't explain it-"

"I know," you croaked before hauling yourself up from the mattress. You moved towards him on your knees, legs still wobbly but you managed to hold yourself up. "I feel it, too. I don't want to leave this bed for a week," you murmured before pressing your lips against his and groaning at the taste of you on his mouth. Again, all you could think was mine, mine, mine. You were consumed by the thought, overwhelmed by the idea of Dave smelling like you so everybody would know he was yours.

Your tongue dove into his mouth greedily, a sentiment he easily returned. You dragged your fingers through his hair, down his neck, over his broad shoulders and down his soft stomach until you found his cock standing at attention between you.

"I- shit," Dave moaned when your lips nipped and sucked down his jaw until you found a tender spot behind his ear you seemed to like while your fist slowly pumped him up and down. "I don't have a condom, I didn't think... do you have any?"

You did, but you paused and thought about it. Even though you were on birth control, you still always used a condom, just to be extra safe. But the idea of having a barrier between you and Dave just felt wrong. You wanted to feel him bare, you needed it. So, you decided on a non-answer.

"I'm on birth control," you whispered, and Dave seemed just as relieved as you at the prospect of taking you raw. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying the way you continued to suck and bite at the spot behind his ear while stroking his cock. He wanted to tell you there was a scar there, one he couldn't remember getting, but he was struggling to form a coherent thought.

When your teeth grazed his skin too harshly, he growled and bared his teeth like a goddamn animal, but not because it hurt. Because it felt good.

"Think you can take it, baby?" he rasped, fingers pressing into the softness of your hips.

"Mhmm," you hummed, finally tearing yourself away from his neck, proudly leaving a little red mark of your own before letting go of his cock and twisting around to fall onto all fours.

Dave moaned at the sight of you presenting yourself to him on a silver fucking platter before crawling forward.

He took hold of himself, all heavy and leaking, so he could notch at your entrance. He hummed a little, enjoying the way your warmth spread over his engorged tip, using it to spread your slick around to make it easier to first enter you.

Impatiently, you wiggled a little and tried to spear yourself on him, but he chuckled and grabbed your waist, making you still.

"Want it that bad?" he taunted, voice dropping low, the lust in his veins pumping hard and fast through every inch of his body.

"Yes," you whined, tilting your head back as if you were in pain. "Yes. Please, Dave, don't tease me."

And how could he deny you? He simply wasn't strong enough, his need for you so hot that it burned through his resolve in a matter of seconds.

His eyelids fluttered when his tip slipped past your folds, jaw dropped when he first pressed a few inches inside, face twisting and breath growing ragged when his hips finally came flush with your ass.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, blinking away the tears that suddenly burned his eyes. Shaky hands found your hips and he braced himself, taking a few deep breaths while he waited for your walls to relax and your whimpering to quiet down.

Dave swallowed and looked down, nearly coming apart right then and there at the sight.

"God, baby, you oughta see the way you stretch for me," he breathed, still staring down where you were connected. "That feel good? Hm? Talk to me," he pleaded before drawing back an inch just to watch more of your arousal get pushed out when he slid back inside.

"Yes," you hissed, "I'm so hot, Dave, it feels like I'm on fucking fire, please fucking move."

"Are you sure?" he asked, but his hips had already begun to rock into you without his permission. You nodded and let your eyes fall closed so you could focus on the way each one of his thrusts and grunts soothed the flames roaring inside you.

"Harder," you whispered, not even sure he heard it, but then a moment later his grip around you tightened and his hips snapped faster, the sounds of his skin slapping against your ass filling the room and making you dizzy.

You heard him whispering something to himself but you couldn't make it out. You craned your neck back, bleary eyes trying to find his but every forceful thrust of his hips jolted your entire body and sent you halfway up the bed just to have his massive hands drag you back down.

"Fuck it," he murmured before grabbing you by the shoulders and yanking you up so your back was pressed to his chest. You gasped in surprise and cried out at his relentless pace, never once missing a beat. One of your hands reached around to grab the hair on the back of his head, pulling him close so his mouth was directly next to your ear.

"So - fucking - tight. Want you so - fucking - bad," he whispered through clenched teeth. Both his arms circled around your middle in order to keep you steady, sweaty skin sticking to sweaty skin. You twisted your neck, seeking out his mouth so you could swallow down those words and have them echo like the beat of a drum inside you.

Your lips crashed together, messily licking and biting at one another while he grunted and growled, hammering into you with everything he had. The tip of his cock reached a spot deep within you that forced all the air from your lungs just to be followed by a sharp gasp. It was making you lightheaded, the persistent pattern - grunt, thrust, gasp, grunt, thrust, gasp - and then his hand traveled lower.

"Oh!" you cried out, your fingers slipping through the thick hair on the back of his head and body slumping a bit but he kept a firm hold around your ribs, still pressing you against his front while his fingers rubbed fast, precise circles over your clit.

Your thighs began to shake and your hips sunk lower, unable to keep yourself from giving into the pleasure mounting low in your belly. Your muscles fucking burned from the effort to stay upright, even with his help it was becoming impossible to do.

"Dave," you whimpered, eyes squeezed shut as your head came to rest on his shoulder. It was all you could remember to say, Dave, Dave, Dave. Just like he said. And it was perfect because that was all he wanted to hear.

"You're close," he murmured, lips pressed against the shell of your ear, fingers working expertly over your clit and hips still snapping tirelessly against your ass. You just nodded, slack jawed, as you focused on your release. So close. So fucking close, you wanted to say, but no words came out.

"Give it to me," he growled, voice sounding like a command. Your eyes flew open and a moment later, you came. You bore down on him, pussy clenching around his thick shaft still slamming inside you, in and out, in and out, while you wailed his name over and over until you grew weak and your muscles threatened to give out.

Dave made a pleased sound before pushing you forward onto the bed. You fell onto your forearms with a huff, still in a rosy haze from your orgasm. One hand gripped your hip, the other your shoulder, and he used you. He fucking used you to get himself off, slamming into you as hard as he liked, chasing his release, puffing and growling above you until he finally stilled and you felt his spend slowly fill you up.

"Fuck!" Dave groaned, gaze pinned to the way he spilled out of you when he pulled out. "Fucking beautiful, baby," he whispered hoarsely, still panting for breath as he continued to watch. You whined and your hips began to drop, so he collapsed next to you and tugged you against him, spooning you with his face pressed into your shoulder and his hands soothingly stroking any part of you he could reach.

"I'll... I'll get you something in a minute," he muttered, chest still heaving as he held you close. You just shook your head and closed your eyes.

"It's okay," you whispered softly.

There was so much you wanted to say, but fear held you back. You wanted to tell him how incredible it was, how you never came that hard before in your life, how amazing you felt now that he finally gave you what you needed.

Once his breathing evened out, he began to nose gently at your back. He trailed up through your hair, pushing it aside until his tongue found the skin on the back of your neck. It felt so good, melting in his arms and sharing in a warm glow while he bit and licked at the back of your neck. It didn't even strike you as an odd thing to do, the pair of you were too deep to recognize it.

With a sigh, you lifted his left hand from your stomach and examined his long fingers, your own slowly tracing his as he continued to mindlessly suck at your neck.

"What's the story here?" you asked bravely, tapping twice on the tan line of his ring finger. "You never really said much."

He grunted into your skin and forced himself to unlatch from your neck.

"Was married," he said simply. "Didn't work out."

You hummed and laced your fingers with his while he watched from over your shoulder. His cock twitched alive against your thigh when you wiggled in his grasp.

"Why?"

He shrugged, lips dragging over your shoulder. If someone had asked him that six months ago, he would have had a much more emotional reaction. Anger mixed with pain, most likely. But you had somehow managed to dwindle it down to a light shrug.

"Don't think it was just one thing," he admitted.

You nodded solemnly, thumb brushing lightly over his knuckles.

"Does it still hurt to talk about?" you asked him. You wished you knew more but you feared you might burst the perfect little bubble you had found yourselves in.

Dave smiled and, with his free hand, lifted your leg so your ankle rested on the outside of his knee.

"Not anymore," he said right before sinking back inside you.

It was the dreams that finally made you both snap out of the lust filled stupor you were lost in.

Dave had spent the night and entire next day with you, only giving yourselves enough time to eat and rest in between the countless times you found yourself impaled on his cock. It was sometime in the mid afternoon when you had fallen asleep on his chest that you awoke with a start, unable to shaky an eerie feeling.

"Dave?"

His eyes snapped open and found yours, looking slightly rattled, himself.

You breathed a sigh of relief and nuzzled into his bare chest. "I had such a weird dream."

"Me, too," he said, voice thick with sleep. He swiped a palm over his face before stretching both arms above his head. "What was yours about?"

You went on to tell him about the very vivid dream you had about him, although the man in your dreams didn't look like Dave nor did he have the same name, you just somehow knew it was him. With your face heating up, you glazed over the part where you fucked like animals in heat for a week straight and all together left out the end where you had a full blown family together, figuring it would be a bit too much and it would most definitely scare him off. But much to your surprise, he detailed a dream of his own that was so similar, it gave you goosebumps.

"Maybe we need to get out of this apartment for five fucking minutes," you joked, yet still couldn't shake the lingering feeling of familiarity.

After a few moments where you both remained quiet and lost in thought, Dave spoke again.

"There was something else."

You tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.

"I think we had... a family."

Dave closed his eyes as if he too felt like saying it would be too much too fast, but you shot up excitedly in bed.

"We had kids in my dream, too," you confessed, and the both of you stared at one another in shock. "And this isn't the first time, either," you added. Embarrassment was the furthest thing from your mind now as the words came tumbling from your lips. "I had them before we even had our first date."

Dave's eyes went wide and he sat up, as well.

"Shit," he muttered, "me, too. Thought I was crazy."

"Maybe we are," you huffed, still in complete disbelief. Then you remembered what Shannon had said when you poured your heart out to her and your brow furrowed before digging in the sheets for your phone.

"What is it?" he asked as he watched you.

"My friend, the one you met the night we had our date," you said as you busily focused on your phone. "She knows a little about this stuff. She's a little strange but -"

"Let's go talk to her," he said before you even had to ask. You sent your text and looked around your room.

Could you really have known one another in a past life?

You weren't sure how you got there, but in just a few short days you found yourselves standing outside the old Victorian house of Talia Carter, a friend of Shannon's whom she recommended the minute she read your text about your shared dreams.

Talia, or 'Duchess' as she preferred to be called, claimed to be clairvoyant and promised she would be able to do readings on you both to find out if your hunch was right or if you were both just certifiably insane.

Despite all the evidence, you still had your doubts as you climbed the old wooden steps of her porch. Talia swung the door open, her bright red lipstick laid on thick and stretched into a wide smile framed by her very long, straight dark hair. But her smile faded almost instantly once she saw you and she gripped the doorframe for support, alarming you both. She quickly shook her head and refocused her gaze on you both before apologizing and ushering you inside.

You hesitated for a moment and glanced up at Dave.

"My friend Shannon called, I'm -"

"I know, sweetheart," she said as if it were clear as day. "I know exactly who you are."

Dave's hand fell to your lower back and he peered inside her house before determining she wasn't some kind of obvious psycho before nodding to you and taking your hand. Talia bit back a smile and she stepped aside, holding the door open wide for you both.

"If you would like to follow me, I have a study where I do my readings just off the kitchen. Can I get you anything to drink?" she asked over her shoulder, leading you past a dark cherry wooden dining room table and matching China cabinet, as well as countless green plants stuck on every flat surface.

"No, thank you," you said, gaze roaming around the room, temporarily stunned by the very unique Elizabethan style she chose. It seemed as though she liked her wallpaper dark and oriental rugs mismatched. The woodwork appeared to be all original, or at least it was made to look that way, and it was all meticulously cared for.

"I prefer to model my home after my own past life," she said when she caught you gawking at the beautiful wainscotting and then the glittery chandelier above her desk.

The two of you sunk down into a soft velvet sofa across from her.

"You remember your past life?" Dave asked, his hand falling to your knee, body curling protectively around you when he crossed a leg and leaned forward. Talia noticed but she didn't say a word. Not yet.

"Yes. I believe Shannon mentioned I preferred to go by Duchess," she explained as she pulled out some tarot cards as well as a few books from the built in bookshelf behind her. "I was the Duchess of Argyll and I still very much connect with that lifestyle, so I have tried to recreate it in my home."

"Well, you've done a beautiful job," you told her honestly. She paused and gave you a sweet smile before opening one of her books and flipping through the pages.

"You are very kind, thank you," she said, "but we are not here to talk about my past life. We are here to talk about yours."

You bit your lip and leaned closer to Dave. Without even looking up, she asked, "Hundreds of years ago, the human race was suffering and on the brink of going extinct. It's believed Mother Nature took over and created ranks among human beings in order to boost the population. Have you ever heard of Alphas and Omegas?"

You both frowned and shook your heads. When she found the page she wanted, she lit up and turned it around, pushing it across the desk so you could see.

"I could do a reading on you both, but it's simply not necessary," she said. You were about to lean forward to look at the page when you froze.

"Why?"

She grinned and sat back in her chair, looking at the two of you like she couldn't believe her eyes.

"I sensed it the moment I saw you. You were mates in a prior life," she replied. She pointed to Dave's hand on your knee. "You're very protective of her, yes?"

Dave shrugged and scooted closer to the edge of the sofa. "That isn't unusual."

"No, you're right," she said, then leaned forward to rest her elbows on her desk, lacing her fingers together. "But tell me, do you have any noticeable scars? Maybe ones you have trouble remembering how they came to be?"

Your hand immediately came up to rub the back of your neck and Dave noticed. Visions of him licking and biting in that very same spot swam in your memories and you glanced up at him once again, watching as he came to the same realization.

"How did you get that?" he asked you softly. Your eyes darted wildly back and forth between his before answering.

"My mom and dad always told me different stories, I'm not - I was never really sure."

Then you recalled how fixated you were on the spot behind his ear the first time you had sex and you lunged forward, brushing his hair out of the way with a gasp.

"Where did -"

"I don't know," he said immediately, the energy in the room shifting as you both stumbled into something inexplicable. "I grew up in an orphanage. No one was ever able to tell me."

Your eyes watered for a moment at the thought of a young Dave growing up scared and all alone, but you forced yourself to put it out of your mind for now. You turned back to Talia, who was watching you both with an unreadable expression.

You told her everything. You told her about your dreams, the extraordinary pull between you, the intensity and passion when you had sex, the hopelessness you felt when you thought he rejected you. And most importantly, the calm and secure feeling whenever he was near.

She gave the book a little nudge and you took it on your lap so the two of you could read, but you were hardly absorbing any of it. The words knot, glands, scent marking, heat, imprinting floated across the page while she spoke, explaining everything she knew. And as crazy as it all sounded, neither of you could deny the signs.

You stayed for over an hour, asking question after question. She explained how your scars were most likely remnants of the scent glands that each of you pierced, which bonded you forever as mates. How the dreams that you both had were memories of your past life and the unbreakable bond you shared was what drew you together. When you mentioned the way your body felt like it was on fire, skin hot to the touch, she explained in more detail about heats and ruts and how it was your body's response to finding one another.

When you finally stood to leave, exhausted and unable to think of another question, she refused to take Dave's money. When he tried to insist, she held up her hands and shook her head firmly.

"You have no idea how rare this is for someone like me. Meeting the two of you is an experience I will never forget."

She even let you take home the book you had still open on your lap, your minds racing as you tried to keep up with the whirlwind of information thrown at you.

When she walked you to the door, the sun dipping low in the sky already, she placed a hand on each one of your shoulders and looked at you both intently.

"Promise me you will not squander this gift," she said. "You have no idea how unusual it is for mates to find one another again. The odds are astronomical and yet here you are, reunited by a twist of fate."

You had no idea what to say. You looked up at Dave sheepishly and he smiled warmly at you before saying, "We promise."

Once back in his car, silence surrounding you even though your minds were buzzing with activity, he reached for your hand.

"Do you believe her?" he asked. You bit the inside of your cheek and stared straight ahead down her long driveway before slowly nodding and turning to face him.

"I think I do."

A big grin stretched across his face and he brought the back of your hand up to his lips. "I think I do, too."

You giggled and ran your fingers through your hair, a rush of adrenaline burning through your veins.

"Now what?" you asked him, letting him drop your hand so he could shift his car into drive.

But before he pressed on the gas, he gave you one final look and said, "I don't know, but whatever it is, we'll do it together."

[kujiba]

#⎯May the land conceal you, dear grace

୨୧ — ꒰ gn!reader | they/them prounouns | Sagau | cultish behavior

୨୧ — ꒰a/n; I made this at like 2 am so ik this is crappy

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Part one of two,

Three

Four

Five

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AN HUMAN BEING - walked through the corridors of their apartment with a bag full of groceries on their hands. They have just finished running errands and now can finally take a rest after a busy day.

Approaching their apartment door. They took out their keys and inserted it into the key hold, stepping foot into their apartment room. They then started to take off their shoes and placed them near the door.

Putting the groceries aside and sitting carefully on their bed; they layed their head onto the soft pillow to rest. Sighing heavily, they turned their body to the side and reached down in their bag to get their phone, they opened the familiar famous mascot in genshin impact and got greeted with a bright light from their screen

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The land of freedom lived up to it's name as ever, as the sounds of livelyness echoed through the place, a bard can be found in the town square playing melodies that blessed anyones ears who would hear it.

Laughs and joy can be found after stormterror's attack has been finally put to a stop by a famous traveler. The familiar blonde hair boy walked through the roads of freedom being greeted with smiles and commissions.

"Ad astra-"

"We'll take the rewards now, thanks!" a flying fairy next to the Traveler said to a woman standing beside the counter

The Traveler reached his arm out to claim the rewards from the woman, but then after he gotten his rewards. A familiar brunette greeted them from behind

"Hey traveler and paimon!"

The brunette said giving them the warmest smile

"Oh hey amber! What's up?"

The familiar brunettes name being revealed to be Amber gave a small smile at paimons words putting her hands onto her hips

"Hehe, Nothing much really. After stormterror's attacks was finally put to a stop. Mondstadt has been more peaceful lately! I was just about to head out to clear hilichurl camps till I noticed the two of you"

Paimon nodded at Amber's words "Thats great to hear! The Traveler and paimon really became a hot topic around mondstadt today too!" Paimon said smiling gleefully "The Traveler and Paimon don't have much to do for today, Mind if we join you amber?"

Amber nodded "Sure! I mean I totally could deal with the camps myself but with the two of you it would be much quicker!" Amber said giggling a bit "No time to lose! If you're ready let's go"

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While walking (more like jogging) to the hilihurl camps Paimon decided to open up a conversation with Amber about something she's been thinking off.

"Hey amber, now that paimon thinks about it.. Who is this ' grace' person? Paimons been hearing alot about them recently!"

Amber looked at them both confused stopping in the middle of the forest to put her index finger on her chin. "You don't know our grace? Huh, I was sure you'd atleast get some information on them considering you guys been staying here in mondstat for, Quite some time."

Paimon then putted both of her index fingers in a X position denying the accusation of amber; Amber sighed playfully before facing them again with a small smile, "I don't blame you, people have been trying to cover up our grace after the incident. And I can't expect much after you've all been so busy being the honorary knight and hero's of mondstat!"

Amber then pointed up one of her fingers looking side to side before facing them again like a tutor. "hehehe, Well our grace is a bestwoned God who created Teyvat!"

Paimons eyes widened open hearing such a God making her flip back a little; on the other hand, Aether suddenly got more interested in this Teyvats God; 'maybe they know something about his sister that might make them reunite'

"huwaah!? Now that's some powerful God right there!" paimon said together with facing the Traveler; "Now that paimon thinks of it, don't you think this God has knowledge about your sister? I mean they did create Teyvat so surely they know something about your missing sister!" Paimon then turned to amber to ask questions about this Teyvats god

"Anywho, Do you know other things about this God amber? Or the story of them?"

Amber smiled softly at paimon, furthermore explaining to them what the story of their grace was.

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Long ago when Teyvat was still in production, a ruler was made just for the producing nation; the God was perfect in Teyvats eyes. They were kind, powerful, beautiful. The archons worshipped their grace with all their love, blood, and tears.

They thought Teyvat was perfect for their grace, that they had everything that they ever wished for... So why......

Why did they disappear?

Filled with grief Teyvat slowly started to become chaos, and thus, the archon war started. All of Teyvat overthought it, some accepted it thinking their grace wanted Teyvat to be independent. Some thought they had done something crucially wrong to make their grace disappear. Long many wanted to forget but they couldn't. So they went to the option of worshiping, surely you will comeback? They will be better they promise! But that day never came...

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"Or at least that's what I know from what I read from books!"

Amber said putting both her hands on her hips and having a shining presence around her; Looking back, Aether started to piece together the background of Teyvats god. but it all led to a dead end.

The trio finally arrived at the hilihurl camps, amber was readying her bow and baron bunny while paimon just was at the sidelines for emotional support.

Aether meanwhile, was readying his sword when he felt a short voltage in his body the same feeling when he was always readying to fight; it was warm, like you're sleeping in the clouds with a fireplace near you to keep you warm. It felt so comforting; And in a blink of an eye the hilihurl camps were now gone.

Panting, Amber started to walk back where the duo was to check on them

"Wooh! Nothing out rider Amber can't handle!" Amber proudly exclaimed while Aether only looked at the grass.

He was so out of it that he started to lose focus on his surroundings but then another sudden jolt wakend him up.

He was cut off with his day dreaming when paimon was shaking him roughly to snap him out of it. "Hey.. Hey! Oh thank archons your caught out of your daze! Paimon thought you were possesed"

Paimon exclaimed putting both her hands on her hips looking like an angry mom; Aether rubbed the back of his neck apologetically "sorry.. paimon, I was just caught on something." Aether said looking at the sky thinking about the story amber said to them earlier whilst squinting his eyes.

"Teyvats God.."

"Hey wait a minute! There wasn't treasure at all here amber!"

"Whoops! Maybe I can treat you guys with some food at good hunters?"

"Hmph!"

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Looking at the final hilihurl that faded away onto your screen; you stretched your arms wide and exited out of the game, it's been 3 hours? Four? Doesn't matter. Putting your phone aside and readying yourself to bed; you failed to notice your phone lighting up and displaying the seven elements of Teyvat, all of them lighting up to their prestige colors.

Making a one final stretch to your arms before going back to bed, and tucking yourself in, slowly closing your eyes...

Fluttering your eyes a bit, you suddenly felt like you were falling. Just like those dreams you've had but the thing is; you didn't land. You kept falling with no end to the nightmare, you tried to move but your body didn't respond, as if you were paralyzed.. starting to feel hopeless, You closed your eyes waiting for it to end and just wake back up from your bed; That was until you felt something grab your throat and drag you to the deepest bottom.

You were panicking, Why was this happening to you!? You couldn't open your eyes too even see what was happening, Your breathing was running out, pressure from the hand that grabbed you started to hurt and sting, you felt closer and closer to the ground and that's when-

Warmth .. You felt warmth; you previously were falling to your eternal doom thinking there is no way out of the panic and dread in your body But now.. You felt...

Kinda itchy.

It feels like your getting softly stabbed by something like grass; slowly opening your eyes you found yourself in a grassy pit with a beautiful scenery, hearing something close by; you turned your head around too see a small anemo slime watching over you. The anemo slime just squirmed and fled away to another direction.

you put both of your hands onto your face, hands trembling and face looking petrified; "What kind of drugs did I ate..." refusing to believe this is real you started to desperately pinch your self, and to your horror. It hurted.

Still refusing to believe this is real even tho there are plenty of evidence this is infact happening. You Stood up dusting off the remaining dirt in your clothes; you were amazed by the beautiful scenery that was upon you, it felt so familiar...

you see not too far by, a woman dress up in adventurer clothing who was cooking something at a fireplace, curiosity took in and you start to walk to the lady planning to also ask her questions about this place, hoping she does have answers.

"Uhm.. Excuse me" you said lightly tapping the woman's shoulder to make her look at you

The woman turned around to you following, with a smile "Oh uhm yes hello! What is it that you need?"

Going like you planned you started to ask her questions about this place, over time you learned that her name was Lynn it felt familiar to you-... Wait a sec...

After she was done explaining you thanked her while Lynn also handed out some food onto you. Walking around the clear and vast area you quickly learned where you were at now.

You were at the city of freedom it's self..

[findmeunderthestairs]

For me, it's the ships with one (1) curly-haired, messy boy with suppressed daddy(or mummy) issues who literally wouldn't survive a day without a gorgeous too-good-for-this-world black/brown girl who gets shit done, looks amazing in braids and somehow likes having him around anyway.

[helenazbmrskai]

Guide on how to not marry the Northern Duke [2/2] - End

Title [Guide on how to not marry the Northern Duke.]

Pairing [Northen Duke! Yoongi x Reincarnated! Reader]

Genre [Fantasy Romance, Reincarnation, World in a novel AU, smut, angst]

Summary [You might be a lady with a significant house backing you but Yoongi thinks he’s not lacking anything as a husband candidate. He could give you money, real estate, jewellery, dresses everything you wanted so why did you reject him so confidently? The Duke of the North is getting a stack of marriage proposals daily that could fuel the fire in the fireplace all day long in his office so why did YOU reject him again?]

Words [10,1k]

Warnings [harassment, mention of blood, mention of hunting animals, sexual content: oral sex, unprotected sex]

Rating [+18]

A/N: This is not perfect but I hope you guys will like the ending of this story.

Masterlist // part 1 // I don't do tag lists anymore I'm sorry!

As a quote “knight”, you wear your dress and accessories like armour on your way to the battlefield which is called idle chatting with the noble ladies. You feel like you got accustomed to your circumstances by now being in a new world in a stranger's body.

You completely merged yourself with Y/N. It gives you an advantage that some things come to you naturally but on the other hand, it’s scary because if you accept this as your reality then that means you’re stuck here forever. Don’t be mistaken after you died in your previous life and reincarnated this is something to be grateful for – this is your second chance at living. Even if you’re aware of all that you keep wondering if your family back there is ever missing you or if they are living well, or if your friends or coworkers think about you sometimes. It feels like you’re living a double life. The people around you have a conception of your personality they’ve seen you grow up with them but in the end – you’re not Y/N. If you think about that you feel miserable.

They don’t know you. They now Y/N.

Even if Y/N now is – you.

There’s only one person you can be truly yourself is surprisingly when you’re with Yoongi.

Can’t make much of an excuse today as you’ve avoided attending these events altogether. Avoiding Yoongi. There’s no fantasy romance novel without a hunting competition scene so you know these gatherings quite well. The men go out hunting and the person who gets the rarest animal as prey wins the competition. All this time women are dressing up and gossiping all day. You’re not too keen on joining them today but since you were personally invited you cannot refuse even if you wanted. The moment they set their eyes on you behind their fancy fans you know they are up to no good.

This is the time when the female lead is ridiculed and humiliated so why are you in this situation when you’re supposed to be the villain bullying people? They invite you to sit but their smiles tell you they’re not really happy to see you show up in their circles.

“It’s been a while Lady Y/N.” The first to speak is Duchess Hee; as far as you know, you’ve never talked before. You greeted each other in formal settings but that’s about it. Whilst her expression is controlled you could sense hostility from her. Even though you’re not going out much Y/N is still getting new enemies on top of the old ones – can you call this the buff of the villainess? You’re unsure how to assess the situation so you decided to grasp the atmosphere first and speak carefully for now.

“Yes Duchess Hee, have you been well?” You gracefully sit on the empty chair between two ladies who continuously glare at you. Y/N is a notorious troublemaker who disregards everyone under her status so the ladies seem surprised at how coordinated you are. You just wish things go well enough that no one tries to pull your hair today.

“Of course. I haven’t seen you much these days perhaps were you sick?” It’s obvious that she’s trying to mock you. Everyone knows that you were on probation by the order of the duke after the mishaps you created in the social circles.

You have no idea why she’s attacking you all of a sudden but you need to be smart about this.

The rule is that the one who gets angry first is the one who loses so you need to keep your cool no matter how they try to provoke you. If a reasonable amount of time passes then you can excuse yourself that you’re not feeling well and you can get out of here.

You need to hold out until then.

“No, I’ve been well thank you for asking. I’ve been reflecting on my actions during that time. If I caused trouble I hope the ladies could forgive me with a gracious heart.” Smooth. Some of them seem taken aback that you apologised so they are momentarily at loss of words. Some awkwardly laugh it off and some keep glaring. The duchess however keeps her eyes on you probably trying to find some fault in you to get started.

Since Y/N had a bad temper her visceral reaction was to get angry at the slightest disrespect but you’re different. You’re not that easy to provoke. You’re a modern woman who worked in a capitalistic company for years – some backhanded rude comment won’t do much.

“It feels like the lady is a different person. How unexpected. What could have made you change so much? Perhaps .. a new lover?” You almost spit out the tea when you hear the duchess’ inquiry. This is so unexpected that don’t know what to say for a moment.

“Ah, yes? Well, no I’m not seeing anyone at the moment.” You try to cover up your slip-up but the duchess’ smile is getting bigger but not in a good way. What is she up to?

Is she on the Min Yoongi fanclub as well; because that would explain so much.

“I see. I must have heard wrong then.” She let it go too easily, something smells fishy here. After that, the conversation finally drifted over to other topics like gem mines and dresses. It was clear they were talking in a way that you couldn’t contribute to the conversation but you’re not too sorry about that as you were not going to participate in the first place. Their plan to make you isolated in a conversation to make you feel bad is surprisingly mild. You’ve been expecting much worse.

“The tea is very fragrant. Recently my family imported jasmine tea so I hope the ladies enjoy this fresh taste.” To be honest the tea is pretty bland but everyone agrees and the marchioness looks pleased by the other's reaction. When you’re not saying anything they all look at you.

Since you feel pressured by their gazes you lift the cup to get another sip as you’ve not touched your tea all this time. You prefer coffee however, if you said that it would just be another thing to nitpick.

“Right, it’s delicious.” For some reason the ladies look impatient, they were sure this would work but you’re not reacting how they want you to. No matter how much backstabbing they are doing with their politely crafted insults you’re not budging.

It’s subtle but the lady on your right makes eye connect with the Duchess right before her hand slips and your dress is ruined by the dark liquid. She made it seem like an accident but there’s no way her hand would naturally slip like that – it was intentional.

It’s hot though. Your smile never falters after all this is a good opportunity to make your leave natural.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry my grip is feeble lately. I hope you forgive me.” You internally sigh at the bad acting; she’s even snickering under her nose behind that fan it’s clear what the intention was. She’s not really sorry she just needs an excuse to blame it all on you. If you get angry they will say you make a big deal out of a small mistake. They all saw it so there’s no way they don’t know it wasn’t an accident. There’s no point in proving or arguing.

“I see, maybe you should see a doctor about it it would be unfortunate if the lady gets sick. I will take my leave then I have to change my dress but I hope the ladies will enjoy the tea.” What you want to say is: – Eat shit all of you. You suppress a smirk as you take your leave it’s satisfying enough to see their angry faces since you dodged their attempts at bad-mouthing you. Many people witnessed the scene as you’re surrounded by noble ladies at each table – now they can’t spread false rumours as there are so many witnesses. If you got angry everyone would probably believe the twisted tales they told each other later but you managed to leave them with nothing.

This is pretty satisfying. Fufu.

Even if you’re drenched in tea Y/N is still pretty and eyes naturally follow you when you leave.

“Are you alright?” You’re surprised to meet Namjoon on your way back he holds up a handkerchief so you can clean your hands. You tried not to pay attention to him since earlier but you cannot ignore the fact that he’s been following you since this morning.

You didn’t think you could get away with rejecting the soon-to-be-blackened third male lead (as the second is your brother) but this is too much. What is Min Yoongi trying to do? Annoy you to death with his aid following you around unless you say yes or what?

“I’m not going to explain since you saw everything.” You narrow your eyes down on him but you accept the handkerchief nonetheless from his outstretched hands. Even as you start walking again he keeps following behind you.

“Do you want to say something Mr?” You stop abruptly if you have to listen to him anyway you will just listen to him now. You’re pretty tired from earlier you had to be on your best behaviour even though it was clear they were trying to provoke you.

“Ah, yes. I apologise but the Duke would like you to think about what happened last night and give him a positive answer.” You snort after hearing that – not too ladylike.

“You mean marry the duke?” Namjoon nods. “Ha, alright..” After a moment of followed silence,-“ I considered it again and I’m still saying no.” You turn around thinking that it was the end of it but Namjoon catches up with your steps in no time.

“Can I at least know the reason?” He asked timidly. Quite persistent, well he’s the only one who was with him till the end.

“Like I said I want love in a marriage. If the duke can’t love me then I can’t marry him.” This is good. If Namjoon tells him this he will probably give up now. You come up with such brilliant ideas today that you’re pleased with yourself. However – this was not the end.

Yoongi is riding a horse through the forest he already caught his prey so he’s not too interested in the scenery he’s already on his way back when his aid Namjoon appears.

“Did you tell her my message?” Namjoon bows in front of him as a greeting but looks nervous. He’s thinking about how could he tell the master that the lady rejected him again without a hint of hesitation in her voice. Reading his aid’s mind Yoongi’s brows furrow in distaste. She might be a lady with a significant house backing her but Yoongi thinks he’s not lacking anything as a husband candidate. He could give her money, real estate, jewellery, dresses everything she wanted so why did she reject him so confidently? The Duke of the North is getting a stack of marriage proposals daily that could fuel the fire in the fireplace all day long in his office so why did she reject him again?

“The lady told me to tell the duke she won’t marry you if you don’t love her. She wants a love marriage, not an arranged marriage.” Namjoon is carefully delivering her message to the duke who looks deep in thought after hearing that. Namjoon is also astonished by the fact that you don’t want to marry him. He has the wealth and authority which every woman is after. To think that she demeaned the duke to love her is insane.

He's afraid to see his master’s reaction. In all his years Yoongi never got interested in a woman before if anything it looked like he didn’t even see them. At Balls, he never danced no matter who asked or who tried to get close. The duke was never interested.

The duke didn’t answer but Namjoon thought that this was not the end of this. Yoongi seemed deep in his thoughts all the way back to the camp. The servants unloaded the bear he caught; a rare black bear that will probably ensure his win at the end of the hunting festival.

Back at his tent, he ordered a bunch of romance novels and while Namjoon found it a weird request he always did everything that his master ordered and then the research started.

He had once disinterested eyes but after your rejection he caught himself studying you whenever he could lay his eyes on you. His interest is rarely piqued but you keep showing him interesting things. The mystery of what you’re thinking in your head is driving him mad.

You softly hummed as you were getting ready for the award ceremony you’re in a good mood since you haven’t heard from Namjoon after that and when this is over you could go back to the mansion.

You only listened halfheartedly to the speech the king was giving as you already know who will become today’s winner. Or at least you thought so. In the original, the crown prince got first place with a deer but now everyone is celebrating Yoongi. He shines brightly his hair is perfectly styled and his dark uniform fits him perfectly he’s circled by nobles offering endless congratulations but he looks disinterested in them like always. He keeps looking over the faces when his eyes finally meet yours.

This is not how it was supposed to go. Whilst things deviated from the original little by little with your intervention this scene shouldn’t have changed. Yoongi didn’t have that many scenes within the novel as he usually showed disinterest in most things. You can’t imagine why he would win this competition when he hates bothersome things.

Oh. No, Why is he coming your way all of a sudden?

No one in the crowd expected him to stop right before you. No one actually believed he would accept the flower crown as Yoongi had never been involved with a woman before even if a lot of women desired him. But now he’s standing right in front of you handing you the flower crown. Your mouth would be hanging open by now if it hadn’t been for the large crowd that gathered around the two of you. Your father and brother who was standing next to you seem just as shocked as you are.

“What is the duke doing?” You try to push the crown away but Yoongi is relentless. If you won’t accept it gracefully he’s going to put it on your head with his own hands. This would be funny how he places the crown on you with a face that is devoid of any emotions.

“Are you going to reject me?” Hah! He knows well that you can’t. It’s tradition for the winner of the hunting competition to present the flower crown to the woman he wants to court or to a lover. With this Min Yoongi just announced to the world that he’s interested in you!

No matter what you say at this point the angry ladies whose eyes are stabbing you in the back with their intense gazes wouldn’t believe you in a million years that you’re not trying to covet their beloved duke. For a moment you wished you could be like him and read his thoughts for once.

You’re furious inside but you can’t show that. Even if you don’t like it you have to gracefully bow and accept his gift. Your eyes are a different story as you discreetly shoot arrows with your gaze. This means you have to attend the ball as his partner as well which is held on the last day. Originally you wouldn’t want to attend but now you’re obligated to.

Everyone’s attention was clearly on you and that made you sick.

You hurried away before anyone could ask you anything and you decided to rest at the family tent before you have to start getting ready for that bothersome ball. Who does he think he is? If you get entangled with the main leads no one can predict what will happen to you in the future. Normally you would be happy to be the centre of your favourite character’s attention but not when your life is on the line.

You can understand now when they say reading and experiencing something are two completely different things.

You’ve never thought that you would treat this way your favourite character to be honest you should be happy, even if he has an ulterior motive that is unknown to you for now, you’re the only woman he ever asked to marry and you actually thought about helping him somehow but the opportunity is too sudden. Also, what will you do if the story ends? If he lives and you live. You can’t live with him forever you know that this feeling and excitement and affection you have for him will fade away. You’ve always thought of him as a character you liked but he’s not in a book anymore; he’s right in front of your nose. There’s no way you can live in a loveless marriage for the rest of your life.

Can he even fall in love with you? Even at the last line he never looked at a woman. Maybe he falsely interpreted your words from before? Maybe he thought he had to show everyone he loves you like in a fake dating situation. Yes, if you talk to him he will definitely understand.

With a newfound determination, you left to look for him.

Namjoon doesn’t show outwardly that he’s surprised by your sudden visit but you could tell by the sudden hitch in his voice while greeting you.

“-Lady..” You ignore his greeting and go past him inside the inner tent. You’re perplexed for a moment when you see Yoongi’s shirtless back. He was in the middle of changing his clothes when you barged in but he doesn’t look fazed by it.

Namjoon hurriedly follows after you sweat is rolling down his temple as he apologises to his lord for letting you in. You’ve gone too far to back down now so you stand upright and cross your arms.

“Please, lady..” Namjoon struggles to try to get you out before his master unleashes his sword. He doesn’t like to be interrupted. You have no idea that Namjoon is fearing for your life but he actually admires you for your boldness not many can stand in front of his master without trembling in fear and you kept rejecting his marriage proposal. If anyone can be a match for his master it could be you.

“Go back I’ll handle it.” Yoongi dismisses Namjoon but he’s hesitant for a moment before he decides to leave the two of you alone. He has faith in his master that he won’t kill a noble.

During the flower crown ordeal you had so many things to say to him, curse him ask him why – so why is that you’re suddenly speechless in front of him? Yoongi drops the used shirt on the sofa. He can see anger in your eyes. He’s trying to figure out what you’re thinking.

He catches himself thinking that your reactions are quite amusing.

This is a first for him.

After you get over the initial shock of seeing his fit body you gather yourself to speak.

“Does the duke not care about my consent? The duke should know what it means to give out a flower crown. I don’t remember being the duke’s lover.” You’re fuming with both of your hands struggling in a fist.

Instead of replying the duke turned around and started looking for something on his messy desk. When he found it he approached you. Without realising you received it from him and when you looked at the book by the title alone you could tell it was a romance novel.

You can’t picture why the duke has that.

“You said you want love. I’m learning how to love you.” You’re rendered speechless by his words. He looks so serious that otherwise, you would think he’s joking. 

“Do you want to marry me that badly?” You ask in disbelief. This doesn’t make any sense.

“Yes.”

He didn’t even hesitate and your heart felt weird because of it.

“Why?”

You’re quite close. Probably as close to him as anyone was ever before. His face doesn’t show anything but you can’t just accept his words. “Why are you willing to go to such lengths to marry me?”

You look deeply into his eyes. Yoongi realises you’re not scared of him. This is also a first. Everyone who knows about his achievements fears him. He’s the Duke of the North, a war demon who never lost a single battle. His hands reach out to touch your face and as he expected you don’t flinch away if anything it looks like your eyes sparkle in the dim lights. He sees fire in them.

“I can’t tell you the reason unless you marry me.” Only family members can know about his powers, he can’t go against traditions. You’re smart and witty and that answer doesn’t satisfy you at all.

Shouldn’t you know everything before you marry someone? – Most of all the reason why they want to marry you.

“What is the duke thinking about? I can’t tell.” You sigh disappointed by his answer but you perk up when he replies.

“That’s what I want to know too.” At that moment his thumb runs over your lower lip feeling with his fingers how you take in a huge breath of fresh air. Your eyes go wide as if you come to a conclusion but before he could ask you about it Namjoon appears again making the two of you break up.

Suddenly conscious of the intimacy of your bodies you step back and Yoongi’s hand falls from your face.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but the lady’s maid is here. The maid said that the lady should start getting ready.” Right. You forgot about the banquet. Knowing that you can’t delay any longer you decide to leave for now but it’s clear that the conversation is not over and Yoongi could feel it too.

“Alright. Please pick me up when I’m done preparing.” Yoongi nods and you leave just like that.

He looks down at the thumb that touched your lips he read this inside the book that could be good to seduce you but he needs more practice. Feeling up your lips was not unpleasant like he thought it would though. You keep surprising him and his chest is starting to feel weird whenever he sees you.

You need to stick to him during the ball this is your best strategy if you don’t want to be chewed out by hungry wolves. Now all of Yoongi’s fanclub is going for your throat so you need to be as close as possible to ward them off. Thinking about how everyone’s eyes will be on you tonight is giving you a headache.

The maid selected a beautiful deep purple dress for you to wear with the appropriate heels and accessories. Your hair is in an updo with some locks framing your face. In this period it takes too long to get ready but there’s nothing you can do about it.

Even if you go while looking pretty or not everyone will try to find fault in you. You can hear it in your head how they will whisper that you somehow bewitched the duke.

No one can be ready when you step into the ballroom while holding Yoongi’s arm your outfits ridiculously matching despite the short notice. Everyone is gossiping like you expected.

They don’t even try to be subtle about it.

The first to approach you is your father and brother and your fingers unconsciously tighten around the duke’s sleeve. The three men exchange pleasantries but your father doesn’t like beating around the bush for long before he asks what everyone is curious about.

“I had no idea the duke was interested in my daughter.” You virtually facepalm yourself when hearing that. That is like saying to my face that I’m no match for the duke. You were known to be notorious but this is getting ridiculous. He should be saying that the duke is not good enough for you!

“I fell in love with her at first sight.” Everyone is silently eavesdropping and it looks like their ears and mouths are reaching the floor by now. Your reaction is not too far behind as well. You were thinking: ‘Don’t tell me that he read this in one of his romance novels as well’.

Can you even avoid getting married to him at this point now? Unlikely as how everyone is so focused on your life at the moment. It feels like you become the century’s sensation with this.

“Haha. The duke is just joking.” You try to lighten the mood but you can’t really get Yoongi and your father out of that weird exchange of looks. If he wants them to believe this he should say it with some emotion damn it. You want to yell this into his face but you don’t of course.

“No, I intend on marrying the lady.” Now he has done it. But seeing your father’s shocked expression is funny. You don’t think there’s anyone in the ballroom who’s not left in shock after hearing that. Even a lady from the Duke’s fan club fainted hearing that.

After your father left many noble couples approached you inquiring about you two was the first thing everyone did but Yoongi didn’t say much regarding the matter besides what he told your father and you were not going to elaborate further so soon after the men talked about business and the wife asked you some general polite questions. Going around for so long soon your feet started to hurt and the dress felt uncomfortable to wear. All you wanted to do was go back to your room and get some rest.

“I’m not feeling too well so I think I’m going to leave.” As a last resort, you interrupt the men’s conversation to get Yoongi’s attention. You reached your limit and just thinking about what happened today makes you feel exhausted. After you got your nanny kicked out you thought that things would calm down for a while but it seems like you were mistaken.

Now you have to deal with an even bigger trouble and his name is Min Yoongi.

“What’s wrong?” Yoongi scans your body looking for the cause of your unwellness which is surprising. You didn’t think he would ask about what’s wrong with you. You expected him to let you go with some curtesy words and while his face is as impassive as ever he is looking only at you.

Thinking about that makes a small shade of pink being introduced to your face. Maybe you have a fever. Yes. That’s probably it.

Reluctant to say it in front of the noble couple you reach for him to whisper into his ears so no one else could hear you. “My feet hurt my heels are uncomfortable to wear.” Thinking that it’s enough to explain why you want to leave you turn around to actually go when the duke holds you by the waist sliding one of his hands under your legs to pick you up. You almost let out an unladylike shriek but you manage to hold it in at the last minute. Your hands circle his neck to find stability.

“What are you doing?” Dropping the honorifics in your panic you whisper yell at him to let you down. This is so embarrassing.

 “I read it in a book if a lady tells you their feet hurt you need to carry them.” What kind of stupid book that is – you want to yell but you just lower your head so your eyes don’t meet with anyone as Yoongi carries you out.

Now you’re really not going to live this down. If some were skeptical now they are actually convinced that Yoongi is in love with you.

Can you even call this fake dating? He literally said he is going to make himself fall in love with you so you marry him!

You sit bonelessly on the sofa in Yoongi’s tent. He’s actually going to treat the wound on your feet as you try to grasp the situation. You feel exhausted now that you got to sit down.

If you think this through there’s no way you can claim it now that you have nothing to do with him. It might be your best bet to marry him. From your conversation earlier you keep thinking about what he said about wanting to know what you’re thinking. His sudden interest in you probably has something to do with his mind-reading powers. Could this be that he can’t read your thoughts? That could be possible.

He wouldn’t have asked otherwise so strangely and you keep thinking about being possessed in a novel and refer to him as your favourite character there’s no way he wouldn’t ask about it if he knew. Maybe…

Maybe he can’t read your thoughts because you’re not originally from this world?  – Y/N’s family’s power is to block powers so that could be a good explanation as well. You can’t really ask for confirmation since you’re not supposed to know that he can read minds.

You don’t realise you kept staring at him while you were deep in your thoughts. You wince when he puts the ointment on your wound roughly your hand goes to hold his wrist to stop him.

“Be gentle it hurts.” You look at him with a frown but he actually listens as he becomes more careful with his touches. His hand is full of callouses and cuts probably from wielding his sword. Now that you remember it he was called a war monster in the novel. Most times when he was mentioned he was looped in with his war achievements or his lack of interest in women. It’s interesting to know these little things that his desk is messy and that he’s not as scary as everyone makes him out to be. He can be quite gentle.

“Thank you.” This time you’re sincere.

This is the calmest tone you’ve ever spoken to him now that you’ve realised. You tried to keep your distance as much as you could you were quite rude to him until now. You’re not going to apologise though your anger was justified he did get you into this mess without your consent.

The silence that fills the space is not uncomfortable for some reason.

“It’s just a small cut you will be fine.” His tone is like usual but his actions cannot be told to be.

“W-What are you doing?” His lips are touching your feet. A small warm kiss is planted on your foot as if he’s wishing for your pain to subside. The duke is a rational man – this is probably another scene from that damn novel but why is your heart beating so loudly in your ears? After kissing it his eyes directly meet yours as if he’s searching for something in the depths.

“Did your pain go away? I want to know if the book had the facts right. It doesn’t seem medically accurate.” You’re too dumbfounded to reply but after regaining your senses you pull your feet away and the duke finally gets up from his kneeling position.

“This is not about the pain! It’s to make the girl’s heart flutter!” You avoid his gaze looking to the right after your sudden exclamation. You can’t believe you really have to explain this to him.

“Then did your heart flutter?” This is a dangerous thought – but maybe – just maybe his little head tilt looked a little cute. What should you do? Lie? Tell the truth?

“Everyone would be flustered in that kind of situation.” You try to rationalise what you’re feeling right now is not attraction. It’s going to fade away – he’s just a character you liked in a book. No need to get worked up.

“So – are you going to ask me again or not?” Trying to hide your embarrassment you get to the point. You decided not to run away from him – at least for now. You can come up with a plan later and if it doesn’t work out then divorce is still a thing in this period too.

“Will you marry me now?” He looks surprised. While it’s hard to read his expression you can disamble some of his emotions if you look for it hard enough. After all, he’s not that mysterious Duke of the North – but you don’t think the readers would be disappointed finding this out.

He’s still charming.

“Alright. Let’s get married.”

You said that but you still have some concerns. The novel’s development is truly out of hand this time. It’s also concerning that you haven’t seen the main protagonists yet. Taehyung is absent from the hunting competition but the main couple should meet during the imperial ball.

However – everyone only talks about your marriage with the duke. You were not sure if it was safe to marry the duke but to be honest, this could work in your favour. Now you can’t be the villainess who falls in love with Taehyung at first sight since you will be a married woman. If you don’t interfere they will have no reason to execute you and your favourite character won’t kill you because for some reason he needs you alive – so this is not so bad. Your reputation is slowly but rising among the aristocrats who witnessed your behaviour as you haven’t caused much trouble. If you exclude the scandal with Min Yoongi but it wasn’t even your fault.

Your father didn’t say a word when you said you were going to ride with Yoongi back to the capital. Your brother was a different story – he did try to object but failed as your father dismissed him. You don’t delude yourself that things will be that easy. Whilst your father didn’t object outwardly now because of the public eye it doesn’t mean he can’t reject the proposal when it’s inside the mansion. Wouldn’t be so bad to get out of that house either as you have mostly bad memories from that place.

The duke delayed his trip back to the north until your marriage is settled so now you’re on your way to the capital. Even if you don’t hold a big wedding both families have to agree to the marriage and then give the marriage application to the royal palace for registration only then it could be a legal marriage. It will take some time until everything is sorted out but that’s fine since you need to meet with Jungkook. You need to tell him the news but he probably knows about it by now. Still, you can’t rest until the house of Summer is taken down or someone else takes over his place preferably a better duke than him because a war would not help you survive here either.

“Will you tell me now why we have to be married?” The journey back to the capital will be quite long you decide to get some information out of him if you have to share the carriage with him anyway. The swaying of the carriage makes you uneasy so it’s better to focus on something else.

“We’re not married yet.” No shit Sherlock. You hold back the reflex to roll your eyes. He would look at you like a crazy woman if he could read your thoughts so you’re almost 100% sure this is the reason he wants to marry you.

“If you tell me doesn’t that mean I cannot take back my word since I would know your secret, Duke Min?” Your persuasion might work at least he’s thinking about telling you now.

It’s silent inside there’s no other sound than the carriage rattling on the road and when you’re about to give up trying to persuade him to tell you the atmosphere around the duke changes.

He’s always serious but he looks even more so now.

“Our family’s power is to read the human mind.” You take some fake time to process this – you can’t give him the suspicion that you already know about his powers. So you keep quiet and appear to be thinking before you speak up. Now – this is something to start with:

“So—you read minds. What does that have to do with me? Perhaps, you can’t read my thoughts?” It doesn’t seem like he suspects you he probably thinks you have good intuition. Hopefully.

“I can’t. But that’s not all.” Now you’re actually curious. You stay in your seat anticipating his answer when he instead touches your cheek again. This is not the time to recite some romance novel bullshit. “If I touch you like this I can’t read anyone's thoughts.”

This is crazy. Not just you – but no one. Do you really have some kind of power that you’re unaware of? Even if your family’s power is to deflect other powers that wouldn’t answer why touching you blocks out everything. In theory, it should only work on you.

“You really can’t hear anything?” You’re a bit excited this is new. You carelessly grab his hand that’s holding your cheek startling Yoongi in the process. Thanks to the bumpy road you lose your balance and land right on your companion’s lap. He grabbed you without thinking holding you by the waist both of your legs hanging off to the side your face excruciatingly close to his.

“Sorry, I lost my footing.” You try to get up but the road is really not letting you off the hook. If anything Yoongi has to pull you closer to not fall over with you in tow.

“Were your eyes always this pretty?” One hand goes to put some hair behind your ears. W-What is he saying now? You’re confused for only a moment before you realise. Romance novel.

After this trip is over you really want to know what kind of trashy romance novel he was reading as a reference and you would appreciate it if he did not try all of it out on you in such unexpected situations.

“I can’t believe the duke really said that with a straight face. If you want my heart to flutter you have to do better than that.” You were half joking and half serious but he doesn’t have to know that.

“Like what?” You didn’t expect him to ask but he found you in a playful mood. Since he wants to become your lover you’re going to prank him. After that, he will think twice before reciting such cheesy lines.

“A kiss probably.” You try to smile seductively with just the corners of your lips tilting upwards but that smile soon remains frozen on your face as warm chapped lips meet with yours.

It’s a kiss. The duke is actually kissing you.

It’s awkward your lips are touching but there’s nothing else. To think the duke doesn’t know how to kiss is funny.

You’re the first to pull back as you can’t keep back your laughter anymore. “I guess there’s one thing the duke is not good at.”

His face is as serious as ever but if you look closely he kinda looks offended by your statement. His hand tightens around you it looks like he has a competitive side to him as well. You keep learning new things about the duke.

It’s probably an impulse to prove you wrong but he pulls you back by holding the back of your head in place. It’s not just a peck now it’s transforming into a real kiss as he moves his lips over yours. It’s clumsy but somewhat charming. His tongue comes out unexpectedly but you’re not gonna stop now – you open your mouth to welcome his tongue and intertwine it with yours. It’s messy but it does make your heart flutter.

His breath on your face, his fingers in your hair you’re hyperaware of every little body part that touches his.

Before you get entirely lost in the sensation you pull back, stopping the kiss before it could devour you. You’re not the only one breathing hard the duke is panting as well. His hand is still around your head and his touch is especially gentle.

This weirdly romantic moment is interrupted by the trusted aid Namjoon yet again. It seems like he comes always at the worst moments.

The ride back home felt a lot shorter with Yoongi than when you were on your way to the hunting festival with your family. You feel shy. You get off Yoongi’s lap before the carriage door opens and someone sees you in a compromising position. The nation is shocked enough as it is.

“Maybe my heart did flutter a bit.” The words are quietly uttered but you’re sure the wind carried it away enough for the duke to hear it however, before he could register the hidden meaning behind your words then the carriage door opens and you accept Namjoon’s hand to get off first.

You’re too shy to watch his reaction or afraid to find the lack of it. Only Namjoon can see the rare sigh of his master looking somewhat flushed but he dismisses it, after all, the weather is quite hot here in the capital. He could be just feeling hot due to the long journey. The clothes they bought are not suitable for this warm weather but neither of them complained as this will be a mere visit so there’s no need to buy new clothes that would never be worn again after leaving for the north again.

The schedule suffered a setback as the duke suddenly proposed marriage and until everything was settled the departure was delayed. Yoongi offers you his arm to hold onto and you after a moment of thinking intertwine your arms going in the direction of your father’s office. You spotted the family carriage so they arrived by the time you got off. It’s not farfetched to think they expected your visit as both your father and brother seem to be waiting for the two of you. They are not visibly displeased but deep in their thoughts.

Your brother’s eyes automatically go to your joined hands wearing an uncomfortable expression. Of course, they wouldn’t want to let you go so soon. A part of you like to think selfishly and blame them. A thought enters your mind: they probably want to keep you here since you started to be useful lately. On the other hand, your calmer mind thinks more about the truth that they feel ashamed of their behaviour. If you leave them so early there’s no way they could amend their wrongdoings. Your brother feels guilty after everything that happened and there’s a hint of overprotectiveness in him as well as your brother. Even if you know all this you have no reason to provide them with forgiveness. A person needs to take responsibility for their actions.

You were not planning to leave this early but you decided to accept his proposal now that you know his secret they wouldn’t let you live if you suddenly tried to escape or go back on your word.

Even if you decided not too long ago to go through with it you’re shaking with nerves. You tried to make yourself feel better that you could divorce him once everything is over but now knowing the truth there’s no way you could cut ties so easily. While worrying won’t solve anything you’re still anxious. This is the best you can do for now since being his wife and him needing you means that he won’t kill you even if someone orders it. The plot has already changed but there’s no guarantee that the story won’t try to change back to its original.

Whilst your father looked reluctant to agree to this marriage he didn’t try to stop you surprisingly. He asked you if that’s what you want and when you answered with a yes he relented.

Your brother was a different matter – he kept glaring at Yoongi throughout the entire ordeal. Fortunately, Yoongi did not pay much attention to his animosity as they politely spoke about the preparations that needed to be done. There won’t be a big wedding that you are thankful for. You’re already the talk of the town there’s no need for more publicity.

In the last couple of days, everything seems to settle one by one quietly. The palace agreed to the marriage without objections however they set a condition which you were not expecting. The king wants to throw a ball before you head over to the north in honour of your marriage but you feel like there’s an ulterior motive behind this. Even if you suspect it you have no room to refuse the king so you and Yoongi agree to attend.

Leaving the house undetected in the meantime becomes quite challenging as the wedding preparations were reduced to be completed in two weeks you were moving in a tight schedule, dress fitting, and writing all the invitations you did not have much time on your hands to sleep not to tell about you private matters that you wanted to take care of before you permanently head to the north. The house staff also seemed busy with the preparations. A room was prepared for Yoongi and his men to stay in the house you couldn’t just let your future husband sleep in an inn whether your family liked him staying or not, there are enough rumours surrounding the two of you as is.

The preparations were not the only obstacle standing in your way sneaking out but the duke decided to follow you almost everywhere. While writing the invitations he used your office as his attending to his paperwork constantly being near you even if you were doing other things in the same room and when you asked why he had to work in your room he just answered with:

“Spending time together is a sign of affection.” He looks up from his stack of papers. That damn romance novel again.

“Have you heard of the line that ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’ you should try it sometime.” You shake your head, murmuring it under your nose that he’s unable to hear you but when he looks at you questioningly you decide not to dare and repeat it.

One of these days you were feeling tempted to find that book and burn it so he cannot use it again as a reference. But you have to think about this, in worst case scenario he finds an even more romance infused book with ridiculous lines and plots to recreate. It’s not like you could learn romance through a book but you need to give credit where it’s due as he puts real effort into it at least. Looking at his unique circumstances as a child and as an adult you could see why he would want to learn romance from a book in a practical way. He was never showered with parental love and he had no means of growing fond of people too as he could hear their thoughts. He had no reason to. The means are clumsy but he’s trying hard to fall in love with you and making you fall for him as he put it. You never had a boyfriend who took dating this seriously before. It’s not that everything he does annoy you. You started to grow fond of the romancing lines that he recited with an indifferent face.

He's always honest which makes him a bit unapproachable at first but after spending time with him his honesty while it’s blunt he’s not saying anything out of malice. He’s just too sincere. It’s refreshing as you don’t have to look for underlying meaning. If you ask him something he answers without hesitation it’s good since you don’t have any misunderstandings. When you asked why he wanted you to fall in love with him he simply answered that ‘it means you won’t leave me’. You were so surprised that you started laughing his honesty was so absurd. It was kind of cute.

It took a considerable amount of time and scheming for you to finally be able to meet with the information guild in secret. Jungkook expected you to come by one of these days so he was not too surprised to see you. It felt like greeting an old friend he even teased you about suddenly getting married while having some good tea as company. Now that you both earned each other’s thrust you told him everything he needs to be wary of while operating secretly. Your purpose is to stop the war from happening and you need help to bring down the Duke of Summer but you need to be extra careful with your steps not to seem suspicious. You part ways with a wedding gift as Jungkook called it in your pockets. It’s a communication sphere that you could easily carry with you. It was a short meeting but you couldn’t help it as you had to go back to the wedding preparations.

You’re getting the jitters as you lay on your bed. Tomorrow is the d-day. You’re actually thankful for your brother for once. His purpose was probably just to separate you but that meant you had all day to yourself to get your thoughts in order before the grand wedding without Yoongi looming over your shoulders. It seemed at the last minute you had different opinions on small weddings as you had to send out tons of invitations. The maids made sure everything was perfect for the big day – this is the busiest and most carefree atmosphere this place ever got. It would have been a lot easier if you didn’t need to walk on eggshells all this time. Dodging the servant's rude comments and their ignorant behaviour they all changed when the masters started to change.

You’re only sorrowful that the real Y/N couldn’t experience this. The misunderstanding has been cleared but she’s nowhere to be found. Will she ever come back or you’re stuck as her forever? Time can only tell how things will work out in the end. But one thing is certain you’re not going to give up and you will live through this ending.

Yoongi is even more handsome when formally dressed he doesn’t look nervous unlike you. You join hands at the altar and the priest tells you your wows. The exchange ends like a blur with a light kiss on your lips. The rings on your fingers glisten in the bright light.

You’re pronounced as husband and wife. You’ve married your favourite character. This is crazy but this man in front of you is now your husband. You bit all ten of your nails by the time you’re done preparing for the wedding night. You were bathed very throughoutly and put in a nice nightgown that you haven’t seen before in your life.

Yoongi is already sitting at the edge of the bed when you enter the bedroom and he looks relaxed after his bath.

You later learn that he’s only relaxed because he has no idea what you should be doing on a wedding night.

You were aware of his unfortunate childhood and that the previous duchess and duke were not on the best terms with each other if you could call people who never met each other after getting married even ‘be in a relationship’ and now you’re convinced that their wedding night might have been the start of their miserable life.

Once the head of house Min gets engaged they get a script of how to produce an heir Yoongi explained but seeing the document yourself you feel sorry for the previous duchesses’ they had to endure a loveless marriage and probably a painful first time where their opinions were not even considered.

Sticking it in is not how a married couple should have sex. You don’t know who wrote this but this person clearly never had good sex. It’s weird to hold this piece of paper in your hand but since your marriage with Yoongi is not an ordinary one you learned that he got this paper this morning urgently to read before the ceremony. Even Namjoon were unaware of the contents as he was only the messenger. Arranged marriage is how house Min kept their bloodline going by getting sold daughters living miserable lives. You don’t want to be one of them. Thankfully you have an advantage that the previous duchess did not have; a power that could contain their madness.

You’re sure Yoongi will never try to hurt you if he wants you to be with him and provide him with blissful silence.

“If you try to do what this text says I’ll definitely never forgive you.” You toss the paper to the side after tearing it apart.

Yoongi’s in luck since he married a modern woman. You know enough about sex for the both of you to get a pleasant experience and you don’t think topping it would be much of a feat after reading what the previous heads were doing to their woman. No wonder without knowing or receiving love it would be hard to know about these things. The wives were too consumed by hate because of everything that had happened to them and the dukes had no idea how to love their wives at the brink of their madness. That is truly tragic.

You don’t believe however that Yoongi is not capable of feelings.

Even after spending this short time with him, you could see his character changing and you’re not only speaking about his determination to learn romance through those trashy romance novels. He actually listens, laughs and feels jealous. He used to be pretending to get close to you but you don’t think he did that kiss just to play out a scene. He does things impulsively too.

Initially, his interest was the only thing that fueled him to get closer and keep you by any means.

“What am I supposed to do then?”

This is crazy. Are you really allowed to corrupt your favourite character? Duh, you’re his wife now. The little you in your head reminds you. Y/N is you now even if you tried to deny it so many times this is your reality. You need to stop thinking that the life you’re living is someone else’s and you need to forget that these are characters in a novel.

You’re living in this novel now and this is your reality.

“You should kiss me.” A switch just flipped inside your brain. Just like in the carriage, you straddle Yoongi and his hands grip you through the small gown you wear that doesn’t conceal anything. It’s so thin he could feel your warmth. Yoongi sees your overall aura change, you suddenly look possessed. It stirs something in him seeing you riled up.

The consequences be damned you’re going to enjoy your wedding night with your favourite character.

– The war, the family struggle, the main characters that you haven’t met yet all of that can wait one more night at least. –

Yoongi kisses your lips gripping your bare thighs always listening so well. His tongue messily enters between your lips and you follow along with his rhythm the lack of his experience makes your job easier to dominate the kiss. Push and pull until both of you pant like dogs into each other’s open mouths. The blood from his head rushes to his lower regions. Unaware that he’s getting very aroused by your actions but you could feel the outline of his cock through your thin clothes. He might not know what to call what you do to him but he surely knows how that makes him feel.

That piece of paper definitely didn’t prepare him for you.

Your lips on his neck and your wandering hands are overwhelming him but he doesn’t dare to push you away, no, it feels too good to do that. You not only give him peace of mind without knowing what everyone thinks around him but show him new sensations and make him feel in a certain way. Feel loved. Even the slight pain that he feels as you mark him up is a pleasurable experience for him. Only after you get rid of his clothes that he sees his own cock fully hard. Your hand and mouth are already around it.

Sounds keep escaping his lips embarrassing whines and moans as your hot lips curve around his cock.

It’s warm wet and tight inside that Yoongi’s back arches off the bed shooting his load soon into your awaiting mouth seeing the signs of his orgasm. He cums embarrassingly fast. He doesn’t know what to do to contain this fire licking its way up inside his veins he follows your directions kissing you all over mimicking you hoping that it will feel good for you too, flipping you over as he hovers over your body kissing every inch of your skin making you moan as your fingers card through his messy hair. You hold his face close to your chest his lips kissing over your breasts and nipples. He reaches your pussy with your guidance his tongue first darts out to get a taste. Yoongi can feel his heart beat like crazy you’re wet and glistening for him. He keeps licking and flicking the tip of his tongue over your puffy bud loving how you say his name when he does something you especially like.

His lips are coated in your essence love how messy he gets with his licks. No matter what he does you keep shaking under him sighing his name. Your husband keeps your legs apart deflowering you sinfully with his tongue insistently rolling over and over your sensitive clit until you cum with a cry of his name. You pull him up for a heated kiss catching your breath but your hand impatiently aligns his cock with your wet opening.

Attempting to describe the feeling of how your warm walls hug him is futile but you can guess how good it feels for him when you see his eyes tightly shut and his mouth hanging open in a silent moan. His hips move on their own after you show him the way the initial discomfort after being stretched soon ebbed into a dull ache replaced with pleasure after some perfectly angled thrust on his part. He gets cockier and more confident with his movements as you moan louder when he finds a good spot he’s getting addicted to the feeling when you tighten around him.

He could do this all night with you. With your legs tightly wrapped around his torso or your leg on his shoulder hitting deeper in every position and angle your pussy feels tighter and wetter that he feels his orgasm build rapidly again. He keeps pushing inside you and pulling back until just the tip remains not caring if the bed shakes under you the wet squelch that your sexes make and the creaking of the bed is the song that you listen to all night long.

You lost count of how many times he finishes inside of you his cum dripping down your thighs when his passion finally subsides. The aftermath hits you hard feeling sore all over but utterly satisfied.

After sharing this heated night with your favourite you feel like you could accomplish anything in this life.

Novel. Or real life.

Yoongi got to experience many firsts with you. For the first time in his life, he desperately wants to cling to someone. Be loved and love in return. He welcomes your lazy kisses with his arms strongly holding you to his body. “If I can love, I promise to only love you.”

There’s nothing more you could ask for. Your smile reaches ear to ear and whilst Yoongi needs to learn a lot of things you’re ready to tackle this life with him and hopefully reach your happy ending.

[thisisxli]

𖣘Apricity𖣘

٭.・゜゜・*

٭.・゜゜・*

Rs: Sanemi Shinazugawa x fem!reader

Warnings:

major character death,

slight heavy angst,

slight spoilers!

summary: Sanemi doesn't allow himself to get close to you. When he lets his guard down just for a second, things turn out the opposite way he wants them to.

wc: 1.5k

edit: btw Sanemi doesn't get reincarnated, he just has a descendant that's super similar to him :)

If you enjoyed and liked this post, you can go to my page and check out my other works! MASTERLIST /

ABOUT ME

Sanemi literally blatantly ignores you when you become part of the now nine-filled Hashira.

He wasn't biased, no, he was far from it.

He just didn't like how you made his heart pound. He was sick of it. He didn't have time for any lovey-dovey shit. He realizes that too, would only hold him back; one would end up dead and the other heart-brokened. Although he promises himself he would never let his partner be killed, theoretically, he would never forgive himself if he ever got them killed.

He knew he was a goner when he found himself above you, pounding you into the sheets like there was no tomorrow.

He avoided you after that. Of course, he didn't want to hurt your feelings, he knows he did, but he also knew he had to. He couldn't get close. No way. So when you came up to ask him, he said,

"I don't want anything to do with you."

His words were like swords driving through your heart. But, you understood. So you walked away with a shattered heart, his own broken one missing the warmth of yours.

Of course, he couldn't avoid you forever. Far from that. But he couldn't be nice to you either. But you went into a mission with the damn maroon-head teenager he found so aggravating. He was worried cause he knew that kid brought bad luck. Honestly, he swears that kid brings nothing but chaos.

When he found you unconscious, carried by the kakushi, he immediately rushed to your side. He ignored the kakushis' protests when he scooped you in his arms, quickly going to Shinobu for you to recover. He was nervous because your injuries seemed pretty serious. When he had Shinobu nurse your injuries, he almost stayed by your side the entire time. Excluding the time where Shinobu changed you into brand new clothes. Technically.. He has seen you naked before. But it was inappropriate. And he wouldn't know what to do if Shinobu saw him stay. Before Kanae's death, Shinobu had rather.. a bad-temper and was also rather off-putting.

It took you two days to wake up; of course, with Sanemi sitting by your side. He flinched when he saw your eyes open, both of your faces holding surprise.

"Sanemi?"

His breath hitched, looking down at your lap. "I just wanted to see how you were doing," he mutters, thickly swallowing his saliva. "How.. are you doing?" He looks up at you again when he doesn't get a response, a shocked grunt escaping him when he sees tears pouring from your eyes.

"I.. I..."

Quick like it was on instinct, he pulls you into his arms, hugging your head against his chest. "I was so.. so useless! I could barely-" you hiccup, "barely help Mitsuri! I was so distracted on saving the villagers, I got caught so off-guard when it snatched me off my feet and-" Sanemi pulls you in for a kiss.

You whimper, tears still streaming down. Your hands clutch onto his haori, feverishly returning his kiss before he disconnects them.

"Don't ever say that about yourself. You did what you can and that's final. There's no what you didn't do or couldn't do. You saved people. And that's all that matters."

You sob almost uncontrollably on his chest, one of his hands petting your hair. "You're more than enough."

Sanemi grins when he spars with you, wooden swords making a 'clack' sound each time they connected. Everyone had their Hashira training, even the actual Hashiras.

You, Sanemi, Obanai, even Muichiro, would spar at night, leaving bruises on your skins. You and Sanemi especially sparred the most, wooden swords moving at such a fast speed, bodies moving across the pebble courtyard.

He knocked you off your feet with a swift motion of his leg before catching you with one arm. He smirked at you and you only gave back a fond smile.

Forget losing all the damn lover bullshit. He had you now and he wants you. He gives in to his selfish needs and has you. Making sure Obanai and Muichiro weren't looking, he kisses you. You kiss back, scrunching your fingers through his silver hair.

Boy, was he so wrong.

He should've kept his distance from you. To ignore you and weaken your spirit with insults.

He should've never met you at all.

You were standing there, coughing blood out from your mouth. You were fighting Muzan. Everyone was fighting Muzan. It just happened to be you.

You,

The one whose body was penetrated by his arm.

Your vision was hazy and you were breathing haggardly. God, he couldn't believe it.

Muzan quickly removes his arm from your body, your blood splattering across the floor. You fall to your knees, your breath becoming heavier, blood seeping more onto your uniform. Sanemi quickly swoops you up before Muzan could attack you, laying you down against a wall of a building.

"Y-you..." Sanemi sputtered, anger etched across his features. His brother, now you?!

You smile softly at him.

His angry expression quickly fades away. He panics, his hands roaming above your body, ghosting above your touch. He was scared, like if he was gonna touch you, you'd instantly die. Tears were already falling from his eyes, eyebrows furrowing together until his forehead hurt. He shut his eyes tightly, hanging his head low, hyperventilating, praying this was all but just a dream.

He imagined a normal life with his siblings, being closer to Genya more than ever. Then he would find you, be with you, marry you, have kids with you, and grow old with you. Why was that so hard to have?

A sob rips out from his throat, feeling your hand cup his cheek. He looks up at you as you look back at him with those same fond eyes.

"I love you, Sanemi. You were all I could've asked for."

When your hand falls from his cheek, he shrills. Instantly, he holds your body close to his for comfort, hugging you tightly as if you were gonna disintegrate like his little brother. His heart hurts. Hurts so bad. It was so much to bear.

He kisses your temple before looking at you one last time, going back into battle.

He takes in his last breath, his only last and ever thought being you.

Sanehiro takes his patrol on the sidewalk, whistling as he watches the wind blows against blossomed trees. He loved this time of year-

"Crap... I'm so sorry!"

Someone had bumped into his chest. It was a woman. He sees her bowing at him which he waved off, a vein popping out in his temple. "Hey- it's no worries. Just-" he pauses, his face falling when he sees you rise, your face coming into his view.

You nervously fiddle with your fingers, chuckling. "That's good, I hope I wasn't any trouble for you sir. Or!- or a distraction!" You grin at him. He quickly takes his cap off, bowing at her. She flinches in surprise, watching him silently. "You're no distraction to me at all, miss," he says, standing up straight. He runs a hand through his silver hair, smiling at you fondly. You stare at him, mouth open. You quickly shake your head, chuckling awkwardly.

"Would you.. ever wanna hang out some time?" He perked up at your suggestion before nodding. You both exchange numbers before bidding farewell.

Oddly enough, you found yourself with a prideful and rude white-haired man. Again.

[comatosebunny09]

Inspired by @sserpente’s The Sunwalker’s Gift.

Imagine being a shopkeeper, selling heirlooms and antiques in a quaint mom-and-pop shop.

Business is incredibly slow. You find yourself flipping through the worn, deckled pages of a book, your chin cradled in your palm. There is nary a customer in sight. Not since that new, mainstream jewelry store popped up down the street.

You’re about to close up shop early to enjoy what’s left of the day—it’s lovely outside. Too pretty to be tucked between these browning walls. But the jangle of the store’s bell lures your attention to the door.

Finally.

You look up as you prepare to greet the store’s newest occupant. But you forget how to talk—forget how to breathe—rooted to the floor like a basilisk has petrified you.

He’s ethereal amid the sunbeams pouring into your tiny store. All wintry-skinned, thin, and tall, dark lenses perched on his sharp nose. Rounded cheeks, petal-pink lips, and foxlike features.

His hair is what entrances you. Swaying like snowflakes in the breeze, and you wonder if it’s as soft as the snow it resembles. Vaguely, you register it sifting through your fingers, smell it exuding the faintest hints of rosemary and firewood.

The stranger surveys your shop, one hand tucked in his pants pocket, the other holding onto an oversized coat. Even his stance is princely. Nothing captures his attention for too long as he peruses through your wares, feigning interest in your rickety things.

You suddenly feel insecure; small—he strikes a picturesque figure amid the dusty antiques lining your shelves. The store across the way would probably suit someone so devastatingly beautiful better.

Nevertheless, you remember how to speak. Square your shoulders, plastering on your most welcoming grin despite your nerves exploding like solar flares beneath your skin.

After smoothing out the wrinkles of your attire, you offer the customer a warm, rehearsed “Welcome!”

He perks up at the sound of your voice. Lips twitch into a half smile, silver brows lifting slightly. Your heart hiccups at the sight.

The stranger saunters towards the counter, carrying with him the scent of bergamot and brushed sage. It’s a homely scent. Somehow nostalgic as he leans towards you, tilting his shades down to ingest you with eyes the color of smoldering coals.

“Good afternoon, love,” he drawls, his accent thick with regality. The purr of it causes your body to flood with warmth. It’s almost dizzying, the ground shifting beneath your feet.

You swallow, your throat thickening with your voice. “What brings you in today?”

“Actually.” He looks thoughtful, a long finger tapping his chin. Suddenly, he snaps his fingers like all the world’s secrets bare themselves to him. “Maybe you can help me with something.”

You watch with bated breath whilst the stranger retrieves something from his coat pocket. It catches in the sunlight. Glints a pretty ruby red as he places it on the display counter with a resounding clack.

“I’ve been trying to part ways with the damned thing for ages. Yet somehow, it always finds its way back to me.” His gaze is far off for the barest of seconds before he replaces it with a nonchalant shrug, waggling his hand dismissively. “It’s long since served its purpose. An antique, if you will. I wondered how much it would go for if it still holds any value.”

He speaks of it so contemptuously. As if it’s been a burden to carry all this time. But it’s beautiful in its simplicity. Tarnished gold, carved with intricate runes you can’t quite decipher. It houses a gorgeous crimson stone that seems to hum and swirl with energy—with power. Perhaps it’s a trick of the light or your nerves causing you to hallucinate.

You’re delicate as you hold it against the sun’s rays, further studying its design. In your peripheral, you capture the stranger’s eyes, regarding you with something you can’t quite place. Disdain? Curiosity? Fondness? Whatever it is, it unnerves you. Makes your mouth fill with sand as you clutch the ring in your palm, intending to scrutinize it some more in the back. It radiates against your flesh despite it being so frigid.

“I’ll have to take a more thorough look at it,” you conclude, masking your shakiness. You muster another smile. “Would you like some tea in the meantime? It may take a while to appraise it properly.”

“No thank you, darling,” replies the fair-skinned stranger, leaning against your counter in an easy slouch. His smirk is back, boasting what you mistake for a fang, peeking through the plushness of his lips. “Never had a taste for the stuff.”

“Coffee your thing?”

“Gods no.”

“Water?”

He waves you off with a quiet scoff, venturing away to prod and examine the other little trinkets in your shop.

“Take all the time you need, love. I’ve nothing but time to spare. And, by the looks of it, so do you.” He eyes you over his shoulder with mirth gracing his countenance. A flash of affection colors his gaze before he busies himself again.

You huff a laugh at his peculiar mannerisms, disappearing behind the curtain of the back room to fetch your jewelers loupe. All the while, your mind swims with wistfulness.

You can't help but feel like the handsome stranger who’d fatefully wandered into your shop is watching you, burrowing deep into your soul, even through the thick veil of your curtain.

masterlist

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

Heres a half assed rendition of the gala scene in my fic "The Drakes Spoiled Brat. (im sorry dad)"

(God once again I curse tumblr for fucking up clarity- BUT oh well- also I like half gave up after finishing the fucking towers and Tim SO the rest just work)

Also Jason still has the white hair but from exposure to Joker chemicals because im attached and its iconic.

(Link + Summary below if interested, just reposted from my last blog)

Name: As above Rating: General Audiences Chapter: 4/?? Word count: 13,545 Relationships: Batfam + Extended DC friends/fam Summary: After the time stream and Batfams continued deterioration, Red robin goes 100% solo and ends up dying from a fatal shot in the middle of Siberia.

His last regret was not being able to do more for his family, and hoping his death would give them a chance to come together again. Only SUPRISE- Tim wakes up now freshly 5 y/o with his 17 y/o mind, the Graysons just died and he is determined to fight for his families happily ever after. As a result Red Robin dies, but Cardinal is born. Tim Drake is hidden, covered up by "Timothy Drake" a spoiled socilite brat, an easy cover he learned from his dad himself.

But all secrets come out eventually, and the truth is only half the process of healing.

[kikyoupdates]

[CROSSPOST UPDATE]

Otherworldly Attraction 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑛𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑒

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

This is a yandere story, so don't read it if that makes you uncomfortable!

Chapter 15 has been added to Ao3

⊱.⋅follow + post notifications on for story update announcements or join the author's discord!⋅.⊰

Not caught up? Start from the beginning on Quotev or Ao3!

Check out the author’s library!

[simp-pings]

Why are the Seven Emperors suddenly doting on me?!

Prologue

pairing : bts ot7 x reader/oc

genre : angst, fluff, reincarnation au, novel au, historical au, time travel au,reverse harem, will add more.

status : soon

warnings : blood, gore, violence, misunderstandings, cursing/swearing, reader/oc is shy but only to certain people 👀, will add more.

note : reader/oc may look too timid, shy and stuff to be an Empress, but I assure you, she carries her duty very well. She’s got a whole lot of duality you see.

«»

You didn’t like your first life. So when you reincarnated to a novel you read, you were ecstatic. Because then, you could restart your life. You could do the things you couldn’t do before. But your thoughts paused when you realised who exactly you reincarnated as, it was The Empress. Specifically, the first Empress who was assassinated and was barely mentioned in the novel!

Now, just like in some stories, of course you tried your best to avoid your death. But you didn’t know that your actions, your words, and the way you held your own ground as the Empress to seven Emperors made the citizens of the Empire adore you with their whole heart. You were oblivious to this of course, mind too full about the novel, your death, and just surviving to even register the fact that there are people who love you. That they did not—in fact—hate your very existence.

You did escape your death, but due to your own negligence, your illness grew, and grew, and grew. Until death eventually welcomed you once again.

You were too late to realize that they did in fact cherish you, the people in the palace cared for you.

And they did not hate you.

And so, when you open your eyes once again, you were greeted with the bedroom wall.

Only to realise that you’re back again, in your second life.

And this time, you will make sure to give back the love and care they’ve given you.

(And yes, you did realise that your life was just full of misunderstandings in your part)

But there’s one problem, how do you face the seven emperors when just a small look at them makes you shy away?

This is a love story about a shy yet strong empress and seven emperors who wants to spoil their empress with everything.

[notveryflamboyantofyou]

Redson! And some screenshot edits that predominantly feature him in the order I did them that aren’t incredibly spoiler for the au

[a-998h]

Hi! Accidentally doxxed myself upon the second request (I forget to turn on anon). Do you mind if I go anonymous again?

Requesting platonic reader as the reincarnation of the Anemo Souvereign, yet not knowing about their true identity this time! A playful, witty soul yet reserved and understanding with Venti, Neuvillette and perhaps Zhongli?

Hope you take care of yourself. I'm grateful for the work, but your health matters, too!

🌙 anon

I don't mind, who you choose to request is not my business, and that you for worrying about me 🌙 anon. Don't forget to take care of yourself because you worry about me💙

You two met before Lantern Rite

You were a child that had befriended the Melusine

They would take about you, so Neuvillette got curious

He goes with the Melusine to meet you

When he sees you he notices a few things

1. You have ears like his

2. You were using Anemo powers

3. You had no vision or gnosis

He knows only the arachons, Traveler, and dragons like him can use the elements without visions

When he approached, you became the most respectful kid ever

He asked if you knew the Traveler

Reader: "Yeah, he helped Liyue, Mondstadt, Sumeru, and us,"

He sighs, and asks if you knew the Traveler personally, you said no

He knew you weren't a god because you felt so human

When the pieces were put together, I swear he turned pale

You were a street kid so you had no idea where you came from

Neuvillette is just staring as he realized that you're the reincarnation of the Anemo dragon, a member of his family

Keeping face, he talks with you and buys you food

He decodes to adopt you, because I say so

Furina adores you and so does Neuvillette

Your playfulness makes an appearance when you and Furina are together

Loves the jokes and puns you make in an effort to make him happy

Keeps that fact that you're the reincarnation of a dragon sovereign a secret

Treats you like his child, the same way he is with Furina

Teaches you how to keep this power in check, so nothing happens to you or anyone else

Takes you with him and Furina to Lantern Rite, where you wander off causing panic in him

You were at Lantern Rite with Neuvillette and Furina

You wandered off and Furina found you

Zhongli was with Hu Tao who ran up to Furina

They talked business while you stood with Zhongli

He introduced himself to you and it was clear you were shy

As the four of you walked, Zhongli was telling you about Liyue

He realizes you're a dragon when Furina accidentally lets it slip

Zhongli freezes a bit but recovers

Furina says it's a joke but he knows its not

Treats you like a grandchild

You're his dragon child

Will fight Neuvillette for custody like the divorced couple they are

You now spend certain times of year in Liyue

Teaches you how to be a dragon, and tries to get you to shape shift into a dragon form

Teaches you dragon things

Finds your wit and playfulness refreshing

Has you hang out with Hu Tao for the fun or both of you

Has to send letters to Neuvillette proving your safe

Takes you to the mountains to use your powers so no one gets hurt

Learns about it from Zhongli

When he meets you, he brings you to Dvalin

Hopes you and Dvalin bound as dragons

Makes a lot of jokes about you being a dragon

Loves your Anemo powers

Helps you control your powers

Plays around with you

You two have battles of wit regularly

Never tells anyone about your dragon side

Is like your fun uncle

Shows you his own powers

Asks if you can turn into a dragon

If not, takes you on Dvalin rides so you can experience flying

Shows you wind gliding as well

Ingeneral, all three love you and your dragon self. The try to help you master your powers and keep you dragon identity a secret from you for your own good.

[thoughtsfromlayla]

My Dearest Defiance

Summary:  Equal as an Endless, more than a human, yet less than a god. Where did you even belong? The question has haunted you since you first saw humanity rise into power. Now your brother has been kidnapped and you can't do anything to help him.

Notes: ~7.5k words, This fic is a follow-up to this post sent in by the lovely @kpopgirlbtssvt, thank you so much for the idea! I took a few liberties with the plot and I hope that's okay with you!

Warnings: Platonic! Big Brother x little sister! Reader, *side eyes* a lot of angst, violence, physical abuse, heavy mentions of cancer, implied alcohol consumption, minor Dreaming mind-fuckery, death of Reader (you come back...ish), death of characters, comfort in the end :)

Masterlist

Mother Night and Father Time, the first lovers, the everlasting lovers. And it was through their love that the Endless were born. Your eldest brother Destiny came first, birthed in dark cloaks and the book that was named after him. He is in charge of the fate of every being to live. 

Every being who has lived must follow the path of this fate and fate always ends in Death, your eldest sister. When Mother and Father realized that the humans must do something while waiting for Death, they birthed your favorite brother, Dream. He is hope, the one who gives the humans courage to stand up for themselves and make do with their lives. Soon, humans wanted more and in succession, the rest of your siblings were born: Destruction, Desire, Despair, and sweet Delight soon to be Delierum. 

While every Endless was busy tending to their own realms and their own duties, you were born. Endless in name but not in power. You were the runt of the family, with no realm to call your own, and no responsibilities of your own. Yet here you stood amongst the humans that soon called you Defiance, the human spirit, the resilience to continue despite all odds. 

You’re sure your siblings knew of you, certainly enough to be invited to family dinner once every 100 years. Yet you could never shake the feeling of inadequacy when you were sat at the far end, only to be over-talked by everyone. They were discussing important matters, after all, nothing that you had to concern yourself with. 

You only find solace in Dream, where no matter how difficult the days get, you may always find a home in his realm. While he is adamant about letting you stay in the castle, you find it more comfortable to live in a cottage at the edge of the realm where the forest meets with the vast unknown and you grow vegetables from the soil you tow. It also allows you to escape to the waking world without Dream knowing.

You love humans, their lives fascinate you to no end. They know of you, just as they know of all of your Endless siblings, but sometimes it just takes a little more for them to realize. You would never push them to admit to your existence and somewhere along the millions of years of existence, you have given up trying to be the center of attention. 

To understand humans is to live like them, talk like them, and love like them. Unfortunately, humans are more than that and often succumb to feelings of anger, depression, righteousness, and violence. You try not to associate yourself with those emotions, but it’s innate. 

It’s been a few weeks since you stepped foot in Dream’s castle, and who could blame you? The village in which you reside is much more fun than the dreary castle your brother tends to enjoy more. The thick castle wall blocks out the sunlight, it’s filled with dust and smells of wet stones and old books. Not to mention, when Dream was busy, there was no one to talk to. Lucienne was always busy, picking up after her King, and you don’t even want to get started on Mervin. 

He’s only nice to you cause you gave him his pumpkin head when his original turnip head started going out of style. Otherwise, it’s cigar smoke being blown into your face and sassy remarks. 

You’re out in the market square when you feel the presence of your Endless Sibling. You turn from the flower vendor with a big smile and wave at Dream as he makes his way towards you. The dreams that he created step to the side in the presence of their sovereign.

“Brother!” You exclaim when he gets close enough for you, wrapping one of your arms around his while the woven basket hangs in the other. 

The basket was filled with a few apples and a fresh loaf of bread. You were just about to buy a few glass snowdrop flowers before you were pleasantly surprised by Dream. 

“How do you do this afternoon, dear sister?” He speaks, leaning into your face to tease you. 

You giggle at him as the two of you walk the main road, passing dreams and nightmares alike, a few waving at you in greeting that you return.

“I’m doing great. I was thinking of going to the waking world later today and spending some time with Death, actually.” You respond, your arm leaves Dream’s as a different vendor catches your eyes. They were selling acrylic paints in colors that you haven’t seen since half a century ago. 

“Here, hold this,” You say as you hand off your basket to Dream. He does as he’s told and holds the basket, the white paint offputting to his otherwise completely black outfit. 

You grab a few jars of paint and can already think of the wonderful things to draw when you get back into your cottage. There was a specific lake nearby that you haven’t been able to do justice to, but you think you finally can with the new color. 

A brief conversation of exchange happens between you and the vendor before you turn around. You burst out laughing at the sight before you. Dream stood in the middle of the road where you had first told him to hold your basket and hadn’t moved an inch. His shoulders were stiff and taught as he held your basket as far away from his body as possible. 

“It’s not going to bite you, you know!” You practically cackle at him. Your giggles follow you as you carefully place the jars of paint into your basket. You think that you will paint some flowers and ivy onto your basket later tonight. 

You go to take the basket back from him but he’s quick to move it away from your grabby hands. 

“You specified that I should hold it, so hold it I shall,” He says and holds the basket higher, just out of your reach, when you go to grab at it again. 

You huff at his rather stubborn behavior, but he’s been like this since the beginning. He always looks after you and takes care of you. You’re always grateful for it, but you can carry your own basket. You resolve the conversation with a roll of your eyes but the smile on your face stays in place when you turn your back to him. 

Dream walks you home, basket now significantly heavier and full of things you didn’t really need. Well, except maybe the paint, it’s good to splurge every once in a while. Your cottage is basked in a warm light as the Dreaming’s sun slowly disappears beyond the horizon to rise in another universe. The pie you had baked this morning had long since cooled and you brought it inside with a hum, your brother still following you. 

He set the basket on the simple kitchen table before taking a seat and watching you slice up the pie with a smile. You set the pastry down in front of him and another plate for yourself. The savory apple flavoring takes over the senses when you take the first delicious bite. 

“I would like you to come back to the castle soon,” Your brother says as you take another bite. 

“Whatever for?” You question, a little bit of apple filling falling out of your mouth. “The cottage is my home.”

Dream sighs but answers anyway. “I will be gone for a moment, I need to take care of a rouge nightmare,  and would like you to be cared for while I am away from the Dreaming.”

“How long will you be gone for you to want me to live in that dreadful place?” You make a face as you think about the boring days ahead of you. Well, maybe you can escape to the castle garden if Mervin isn’t paying attention. 

“I cannot tell you for I do not know.” 

You purse your lips as you think about his request. “Fine,” You groan. 

“Best not see Sister Death today.” When you don’t bother with a response he speaks against “Farwell, sister. I will be back soon,” He promises you before standing. You didn’t get the chance to follow him to the door before he leaves, his apple pie still untouched. 

“Ugh, how wasteful.” You joke to yourself. 

You spend the rest of your evening painting your basket as you had wanted before packing up a few items for the castle. Your basket was a gift from your brother and had an infinite amount of storage. So you managed to shove an extensive amount of your wardrobe, the paints, and some of the freshly baked pastries into the small wooden thing. You set off when the moon was high in the sky and the stars came down from their afternoon nap and danced in the village square. 

Their stardust shoes clink like pure jade against the cobblestone road, illuminating the otherwise quiet and sleeping town. A few wave  at you, shimmering particles following their movements before they return to their waltz. You wave back to them before continuing on your journey, mindful of where you stepped. 

When stars come down to the Dreaming they become transparent and more gaseous than solid but that doesn’t stop them from burning hot. And unless you wanted to recounter that one time you stepped through one and started sneezing and coughing stardust for the next 10 years, you’ll keep your distance - only allowing for their natural light to guide your way out of the village and towards the castle. 

By the time you reach the castle, Dream is nowhere to be found and you assume he went out to do what he mentioned earlier that day. Your room was set up for you,  Dream obviously had some palace staff tidy up the room as you took a look around the clean environment. Otherwise, everything was in the same place you had left it since the last time you were at the castle. You yawn as you set your basket down by the door. First a good night’s rest, then you can go to the waking world to do your own things. 

You sneak out of the castle a few minutes before dawn, the soft bed and good night’s rest giving you the energy you need to do so. You grimace when the door creaks loudly as you slowly open it, smelling the early morning dew on the grass and the warming dawn wind. 

“Where are you headed, my dear?” A voice stops you in your tracks. You suck your lips into your mouth as you soon recognize the voice. 

“Good morning, Lucienne,” You greet curtly, holding, or rather, hiding, your basket behind your black skirt. 

Lucienne gives you a pointed look. “Yes, good morning.” 

You give her a smile before stepping back out the door, only to be stopped when she purposefully clears her throat. 

“The question?” She presses.

You feign innocence and bat your eyelashes, not that it would work. “What question?”

“Lady Defiance, my Lord specifically states that I keep my eyes on you.” Lucienne holds her hands behind her back as she takes her stance. 

“By all means, keep your eyes - hey what’s that?!” You gawk as you point behind Lucienne. 

Lucienne snaps her head around to look at what you were so surprised by. She doesn’t see or sense anything when she does. It’s about two seconds of her searching before she realizes that she has been duped. When she turns around the door is swinging shut and you are nowhere to be seen. She slams the door open and only sees the last of your figure disappearing on the horizon.

You’re still giggling to yourself about pulling off that little trick when you reach the ocean of the Dreaming. The little wooden dock creaks under your weight as you skip across it. Having done this traveling before, you jump right in with a squeal, holding your nose close so you don’t get any water in. 

The water pushes and pulls but you don’t fight the current knowing that it will take you where you wanted to go. When you emerge, you cough once and the water falls off your body, leaving you dry in cloudy 1916 England. You wrap your blazer closer to your body as the wind picks up and leave the alleyway. The familiar smell of roasted peanuts from street vendors and car fumes tickles your nose when you turn the corner to walk into the hospital. 

“Hi, I’m here to visit Genny, uh, Geniveve, Geniveve Colemen,” You correct yourself to the receptionist. The woman nods and looks down at her computer. 

“She’s in the same room, 443. Here’s your visitor’s pass.” She hands you a laminated badge on a lanyard. 

You thank her before wearing the lanyard and going towards the nearest elevator. The elevator smelled of shoe polish and disinfectant spray and it made your nose crinkle. You just hope the smell doesn’t transfer onto your clothes. 

When you reach your destination, you knock on Genny’s door before entering. She wears her hospital gown and was reading a book when she looks up. A smile pasters onto her face when she sees you.

“Y/N!” She drops her book and sits up straighter. 

“Genny!” You exclaim back with the same amount of excitement. You place your basket by her bed before pulling out a fresh vase of flowers and setting it by her bedside table. 

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, what have you been up to?” She asks.

“Yeah, my mother took me to some private tutor to help me study for my tests,” You lie through your teeth as you fluff the flowers to make them look more appealing. 

You tuck your school skirt underneath you when you sit down next to Genny and reach for your basket again. “I brought you some homebaked goods. I know this hospital’s food has got to be horrendous.” 

You bring out the baked loaf of bread you bought the day before and rip off a slice for her. She takes the loaf and inhales the scent. 

“Gosh, Y/N, I don’t know how you make such good baked goods. Your husband will be a lucky one if you stop trying to chase them off.” She giggles and muffles through her full mouth. 

You laugh with her, sparing her the details of your actual life. You bring forth the lie you had carefully planted yourself as instead. A straight-A student that goes to the same school as Genny before she was diagnosed with cancer, how you were her best friend that visited her when you got the chance, how you had gotten onto the school council and despite all of her poking and prodding, she would not get to know what the school formal’s dance theme is going to be unless she went with you tomorrow to the dance. You try not to think about how frail she has gotten since the first time you’ve met her. Her collarbones were poking out and you can see how hard it was for her to take even breaths. 

When she asks you again later in the visit about the school dance you rebuttal quickly. 

“Are you going to come to the dance with me?” You laugh. “Speaking of which, I got you a dress, too!” You go back to your basket, pulling out a formal dress, and setting it in front of Genny. 

“Wow! Look at the bead stitching,” She says, running a delicate finger over the beading and gems then over the lacing. 

“I’ve got a good eye, don’t I?” You sit back down with a smile and a tilt of the head. “It matches my dress, too.”

“What about your own date?”

“Oh, please, I don’t have time for boys!” You giggle again, hiding behind the lie that you don’t actually go to her school. 

“Oh alright, I suppose I must go to the dance with you so you won’t be lonely.” Genny surrenders. 

You smile at her, happy she finally agreed. “You’re a great friend.” 

Genny coughs after your compliment and you’re quick to reach for the water and hand it over to her. When she sits up to drink you go to fluff her pillow. Genny lays back down with a sigh and all of the warmth that was in the room leaves through the window. She looks like she’s aged when she looks at you again, another cough crawling its way past her throat. 

“I’ll leave you to rest,” You say, turning around to grab your things. 

“No,” Genny refuses. “Can you stay for a little bit longer?” She coughs again and holds your hand weakly. “I want to feel like a normal girl for a little while longer.”

“Okay,” You whisper and sit back down, feeling the chill of the hospital around your ankles. 

You watch over her as she falls asleep, the conversation taking the last of her energy. You begin to stare off into space, thinking about your life. You did your best with the gift of immortality, but as you stare at Genny’s tense face, you wish you could do more. Equal as an Endless, more than a human, yet less than a god. Where did you even belong? The question has haunted you since you first saw humanity rise into power. 

Your thoughts leave you when you feel the beating of wings and a flush of wind from the door. Your head snaps and you see your sister standing there in her black tank top and the same combats boots you wore. 

“Sister Death,” You greet with a small smile, previous thoughts disappearing. “What brings you here today?” 

Your sister only smiles at you. Your excitement of seeing your sister again is soon taken over by dread. You look between your sister and your friend and the dots connect. 

“Oh... what? No!” You stand abruptly between your sister and Genny. “No! She still has so much to do in life!” You try to reason with her. 

“You cannot bargain with me, Defiance. You know that,” She says in her soft voice. 

“I don’t care,” Your lips form into a line. “At least let her go to the dance with me?” You try one more time. 

Death sighs with exaggeration. “Fine, but not an hour more.” 

“Thanks…” You’re not entirely sure how you managed to pull that off, unbeknownst to you that your sister has a soft spot for you much like Dream. 

Your sister looks you up and down before she leans on the door. “So how are you doing, then?” 

You look off to the side when you answer. “Fine,” You grumble out. 

She lets out a huff, or perhaps a laugh, you can’t really tell. “Would you like to go on a walk with me?”

It was a tempting offer, after all, you haven’t spent time with your sister in a while. You thought about it for a little while longer. “No,” You end up refusing. 

“Genny asked me to stay a little while longer, so I shall.” You turn away from your sister and sit back down in the uncomfortable hospital chair. You keep your head straight, looking after Genny, and don’t take your eyes off her even when you hear your sister departing. 

When she does, a tremble runs over your body. You feel tears prick at your lashline as you come to terms with the fact that your friend will be dying soon. You did your best to prevent the inevitable, but with no powers of your own, it’s only a waiting game now. 

You leave when visiting hours are over, Genny has yet to wake up from her nap. You leave the rest of the loaf on her bedside table, and a slice of your apple pie. You decide to tidy up the room as quietly as you can and hang her dress on the hook that was nailed to the wall. With one final look at her, you leave, only hoping that your sister doesn’t go back on her word and take her before her allotted time. 

You spend the rest of the evening in the waking world, catching up on new things the humans have done with their time. You end your day on a park bench, illuminated only by a single street lamp. The park was quiet, you’re only accompanied by the sound of crickets and the wind along the trees. You take in a deep breath of fresh air. Oh, how you have missed this. If only it was closer to summer vacation, you would’ve taken Genny to the beach and had some sun time with her. 

When you are done relaxing you go to the pond at the center of the park, the fountain in the middle still squirting out water and creating magnificent shapes and splashes along the surface. You could see the stars' reflection rippling as you peer at the lake over a bridge. The wind blows and you close your eyes to savor the moment. 

“I wouldn’t jump if that’s what you’re thinking,” Someone says next to you. 

You open your eyes and turn to see a man standing next to you, no older than 20. He takes off his hat when you speak. 

“I wasn’t, but thank you,” You reply simply and go back to looking out towards the expanding city. He doesn’t leave your side despite your answer and it gets a bit awkward.

“Are you thinking of jumping? Because I would also not recommend that, sir,” You turn to him again and see him laughing. 

“No,” He says. “I am just here to think.”

“Just like me then. What bothers your mortal mind?” You ask. 

“Many things… I’m afraid I have let my family down.” 

“How so?”

“We came here on a boat from the motherland, nothing to our name but a few pennies. I was supposed to go to college and finally put our family on the map. But I failed and now here I am, talking to a stranger on a bridge in the middle of the night.”

You laugh along with him. You knew of him and saw his dreams a few times when you went out exploring in the Dreaming. He wanted to be a doctor, specifically an athletic injuries doctor but failed out of medical school before he even got the chance. You rack your brain to think of his name, and when it comes to you, you speak. 

“Do not worry, Albert Brocken, I’m sure there are many opportunities that will come alight in the near horizon. Perhaps you should take the entrance exam again, and see where it takes you.” You yawn and you realize that you should probably start heading home. 

“Yeah… maybe I should,” He concludes with a sigh. “I think I might go into somnology,” He says more to himself than you. 

“Somnology sounds fascinating,” You agree. “I must go home now, but best of luck to you!” You walk away, your shoes barely audible on the stone bridge over the gushing fountain. Albert doesn’t look your way when you depart, too focused on his new goal in life. 

You find yourself standing before an old winding cottonwood tree in the same park. It’s been here for years, growing into the magnificent tree it is today. It’s passed by thousands of England residents almost every day, yet none of them are willing to stare at it hard enough to realize that the bark of the tree isn’t real. 

You take one last look around the park to make sure no one else sees you before walking straight into the tree, the danging leaves caressing you like a gentle mother’s touch. The trunk of the tree turns into a curtain of falling sand and you pass through with no problems. When you emerge on the other side, the bright moon of the Dreaming greets you, illuminating and basking you in a soft welcome. When you come back into the castle, Lucienne is on top of you like a hot iron. 

“Thank the Gods you are well,” She panics as she holds your arms. After taking a good overall look at you, she wraps her arms around your body and brings you into a hug. 

“Lucienne?” Your question muffled against her crisp uniform. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, my dear, you hadn’t come back all day. I thought perhaps…” She trails off before she takes a breath. “Lord Morpheus hasn’t returned, and neither had you, so I presumed the worst.”

“Morpheus hasn’t returned?”

“No, but you are here. Tell me, did you see him while you were in the waking world today?” Lucienne holds hope in her eyes and you resent the next word you say.

“No,” Your thoughts trailed off. “Morpheus hasn’t returned?” You ask again.

“I am sure there is nothing to worry about. I may just be overthinking is all.” Lucienne reassures you. 

“Okay…” You don’t completely believe her, somewhere deep inside you you can feel that Morpheus is in danger. As the King of Dreams and Nightmares, a rouge nightmare shouldn’t be anything to be worried about. He should be home by now. 

Your eyes close as soon as your head hits the pillow, but thoughts consume you. After the dance tomorrow night with Genny, you will go searching for your brother. The following day came quickly and you paced back and forth in the castle hall, the formal dress you had on jingling with your movements. Your thoughts were in overdrive, there was Morpheus of course, but you also knew that tonight was going to be Genny’s last day. And knowing that puts a weight on your shoulders. You have to make sure that tonight is going to be the best night of her life. 

When the time came, you went to the waking world feeling dolled up and in an antique car with the roof down. Your hair had enough hairspray to survive a storm from Zeus himself. You pull up to the hospital in a screech, Genny already waiting for you in the lobby. You check your lipstick in the mirror one last time before Genny reaches your car. 

“You know how to drive?!” Genny says with a smile and excitement that you found contagious. 

You resecure the silk scarf that protected your hair from the wind and open a pair of sunglasses to put over your eyes. You look at her over the bridge of your nose, your eyes shining past the sunglasses before stepping on the gas pedal.

“I know how to do many things, sweet Genny!” You shout over the wind, pushing the glasses back to their original position. 

Each time you looked over at Genny, her smile still hadn’t faltered and the last bits of the sun’s rays caught on the embroidery of her dress. Her softness brings a smile to your face and for a moment you forget about your brother. 

You pull into the gravel driveway of the school formal’s destination. You had managed to weasel your way into the school council and they were able to get help from the local people. The theme for this year's dance was “A Magical Night” and a local citizen opened his manor to the students for the night. He called himself a mage, something that you rolled your eyes at as magic has been rare in this world since the faeries left it half a century ago. But you kept that to yourself, if he wanted to play make-believe, then so let him. 

Students were already lining up outside the decorated manor when the two of you arrived. You hand your keys off to a valet and walk towards the door, hand in hand with Genny. Her excitement buzzed through her like a shot of tequila. 

When you cross over the threshold of the manor you are genuinely surprised at the decorations of the place. The ballroom had been cleared out and a live band was playing music for students to dance to. There was a bar on the far end of the ballroom serving drinks and small snacks. A doorman takes your jacket away from you before you grab Genny’s hand and head to the dance floor. 

Many of Genny’s old friends soon recognize her and start to surround you two, the night is still young and the sound of laughter soon fills the air. You and Genny danced the night away until you both were sweaty and out of breath. Your make-up had gone a bit smudged but you didn’t mind. It was nearing midnight when most of the students started to leave and you pulled Genny away for one last surprise. 

Genny started to slow down a bit, the exercise of the dance sapping away her energy. She pulls through though and follows you to a winding staircase that leads to one of the roofs of the manor. The spring air chills you to your bone, but it is well received after the sweat you have built up. You help Genny sit down before you sit down next to her, the shingles of the roof poking through your dress in an uncomfortable way. 

A satisfied sigh leaves your lips when you look out to the vast countryside behind the manor. The stars twinkle as far as the eyes can see and from your advantage point, no trees are blocking the view either. Genny pants beside you as she calms herself down from the climb and leans her head against your shoulder. 

“I am so glad you made me come to this dance,” She whispers as she looks out to the stars. 

“Me too,” You agree, you begin the absentmindedly swing your legs back and forth. Your heels come loose and slip from your feet and both you and Genny laugh at it. 

“Gosh, I hope that didn’t hit anyone,” She continues to laugh as she cautiously peers over the side. 

“Or else they’d have to smell my stinky feet, ewww!” You continue her joke. 

Her laugh turns into a cough and your mood shifts to melancholy. 

A shift in the winds tells you that her time will soon be up. “Genny,” You start. “My sister is going to be here soon.”

“Oh, really? I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“Yes, I have a huge family actually.”

“Well, tell me about your sister,” She smiles, head feeling heavier as she puts her full weight on your shoulder. 

“She is really sweet, and a soft, kind-hearted soul. Just like you, I suppose.” You say. 

Genny doesn’t reply and tears prick your eyes. When you turn your head you see Genny standing up with a smile, yet her body still remains on your shoulder. Behind her stands your sister, a reassuring smile and a gentle hand rest around Genny in a side hug. 

“Your sister says that she’ll take great care of me,” She starts and looks at Death with a solemn smile. “Will she?” 

“Yeah, she’s one of the best…” Your voice dips into a murmur as you feel your lips tremble. 

Your answer is enough for her and she turns to leave. She seems to have remembered something as she turns back around and wraps her hands around your shoulders, her ghostly figure slightly falling through your physical form. 

“I’ll see you again, right?” Genny asks, hope lines her figure and you can’t bear to see it fade. 

“Yes,” You lie through your teeth. “Good-bye.” 

She turns to leave with your sister, blissfully unaware of your last farewell. The sound of Death’s beating wings was the last thing you heard before it was just the barren countryside again. Genny’s body grows cold by your side as you pet her hair for the last time. 

The manor staff came soon when you faked a scream and soon ambulances came and went with her body. You’re left in the aftermath of a romantic dream of confection and ribbons alone in the middle of the dance floor feeling numb. 

“Hey, lady, if you’re going to stand here moping you can at least help out,” A staff member calls out and you snap out of your thoughts. 

He hands you a few foldable chairs and tells you to put them up. You nodded along, not really having much else to do. You meander through the halls when you realize that he didn’t tell you where to put the chairs. It’s when you find yourself at a set of stairs that lead down towards the basement. And to you, it made all logical sense for humans to store their things in the basement. 

You open the heavy double doors and descend further into the musky basement. Candles were lit on the stairs and its melted wax coats the edges as it lightens the path. When you get to the bottom, you’re greeted by the host of the party that you met earlier in the night. 

“What are you doing here, girl!” He scolds. 

You hold up the chairs, unaware of his tone. “Hi, Mr. Burgess. I’m helping with clearing up after the dan…” Your final word trails off as your eyes wander past his figure. 

Behind him sits your brother and your jaw drops. Mr. Burgess tries to stand between you and him when he notices that your attention is no longer on him. Dream stands fully in his glass prison and you would have made fun of the fact that he was fully rocking out in his birthday suit if not for the situation at hand. 

“Oh, what the fuck,” You whisper, dropping the chairs.

You breeze past Mr. Burgess and stand before Morpheus. Golden runes that surround his prison stop you short as if there was some sort of invisible force field. Your head whips around and faces your host again. He stands tall as he stares back. 

“Why do you have my brother in a-a… fucking FISH BOWL!” Your words stumble out at the utter audacity of the situation, your hands moving around expressively. 

Realization dawns on him and you realize that you made a mistake. “So, you are one of his family. That man warned me about your kind. Which one are you.” He seethes as he walks towards you. 

“You face Defiance of the Endless,” You spit back at him.

You were in no mood to play, first, your friend dies in your arms and then you learn that Lucienne’s suspicions were right and that something did happen to your brother. This whole time he had been here under your feet while you were having fun. His clothes, tools, and dignity stripped from him as you drank enough sparkling cocktails to make Dionysus jealous. 

The man scoffs at you and spits at your feet. “Oh please, and I thought that it was going to be hard. I’ve heard of you, little girl. They told me that you are nothing, a nobody. You have no realm, no powers, you are barely a god.”

You stay silent as he speaks, rage flushes through your body and your muscles tremble. His words rang true, but here you shall stand for your brother. He advances on you and you find that you have nowhere to go. A sharp pain burns across your cheek as his pierced cane comes into contact with your skin. 

Your body follows the force as it throws you off balance. Your head cracks against the stone floor of the basement and a gasp leaves you. Your vision blurs from the hit and you feel warm blood sliding down your cheek like an unshed tear. In the distance of your mind, you hear Dream slamming his fist against his glass prison. You stand again, determined to not be bested by a mere mortal. 

His cane comes down again like a whip, hitting your shins and then once again on the back of your knees. The blow forces you to kneel before him, and your cries of pain echo in your head. The coarse floor scratches at your palm but you keep your breath as even as you can. 

“Is that all you got?” You sneer as you look up at him through your eyelashes. 

His foot comes towards your face and you squeeze your eyes shut right before the impact follows. Your body tumbles further away from Dream, but his slamming continues. You feel the wall behind you, its surface cooling down your heating body. 

“Stop, I command you to stop!” Morpheus shouts, command muffled.

“Dream of the Endless commands you to stop,” You repeat your brother's words. You use the wall to brace yourself to stand on wobbling legs.

Iron fills your mouth and you spit it out back at Burgess’ feet, much like he did to you before. You grin when you see him grimace at the act. You wipe your mouth clean with the back of your hand, very unladylike, but between the three of you, who is going to judge? 

A backhanded slap snaps your head to the side and another painful scream follows. 

“Stop! Cease yourself or face my wrath!” Dream continues to scream as your vision blurs again. 

“No, I can take it,” Your voice is coarse but the message is heard loud and clear. 

“Oh, you can take it, hmm?” Burgess taunts and his cane jabs into your abdomen. 

You feel like you couldn’t breathe, that no matter how much your mouth gaped open, oxygen didn’t fill in your lungs as you needed it to. 

“I can take it,” You wheeze out again, another hit forces you back down and this time you don’t have the strength to get up again. 

“I suppose one step higher than capturing an Endless is to kill one,” Burgess laughs on top of you. His heavy body straddles you and you feel his hands wrap around your neck. 

Black dots swarm your vision like the expanding universe. Your nails claw at his hands, drawing blood, as your body tries its best to fight back. Burgess picks you up by the neck and slams your back down, stars waltz behind your eyelids and a brief vision of home comforts you. A ragged breath crawls through your throat before another slam into the ground silences you. Despite your efforts, your hands grow limp and you feel your body start to break down. It flakes away like spring cherry blossom petals as you take your last breath. 

“No!” Dream’s scream is the last thing you hear. 

Your consciousness fades to black and it is quiet for once. It’s odd to think that an immortal being can die, but it’s true. The only thing that differentiates it is that you could be reborn. Immortality is a fickle thing. 

When you come back into consciousness, you can feel the Dreaming heal your soul. It wraps its warmth around you like a soft blanket and you finally feel safe enough to stop everything that ran through your mind. When you stretch out your limbs you realize that you weren’t in your human form anymore. 

Your perception spans further and you can see new angles you haven’t seen before through your eyes. You wiggle your toes, or what you thought were your toes and feel soft and fertilizing soil below you. When you look down you notice that your legs have turned into the soft bark of a willow tree. Your arms shake and the reaching leaves of the tree shake from the action. You sigh and your bark groans and creeks under your deflation. 

You soon become a welcomed resident in Fiddler’s Green, providing shade for the decreasing amount of dreamers that come to visit you. As the years pass, the Dreaming starts to die around you as Morpheus stays entrapped under the Burgess Manor. You stay as a tree, unable to move and help. Guilt eats you alive, leaving your core to rot from the inside out. 

Lucienne comes to visit now and then, but as the castle starts to fall apart, she can’t find the time to come by anymore. Your days grow lonelier as Fiddler’s Green decides to leave the Dreaming as well. You stand on dry soil in a barren wasteland. Your inaction keeping you hostage like a ladybug in a spiderweb. The more you struggled, the harder you found it to keep your human consciousness. 

So, you did the most human you could think of: you cried. Fitting, you thought to yourself, a weeping willow, well, weeping. Your tears came to fruition in the form of vibrant yellow blossoming flowers against the beige and cracking surroundings. 

You stayed like that for the next 106 years. Your roots had grown so long that you could feel each corner of the dreaming, searching high and low for water to drink from. Soon, even that would run out. Another tear runs down your bark, your trunk growing deep grooves where the previous century of tears had carved. Despite all odds, your leaves were still vibrant and your flowers would change colors based on your mood. A trick that took you a few decades to learn. 

The moon rises higher and higher over the horizon. You follow its path, counting the fragments to keep your mind from boredom. It split in half 15 years after Dream’s capture and every five years or so, another fragment separates from the moon. You counted 18 fragments this time around, the same as the day before, and the week before that. You yawn, the bark shaking as you do so and close your eyes to rest.

You wake to a soft hand on your bark just as dawn cracks. Your leaves shake in surprise as someone touches you. It takes a moment to reorientate yourself and when you look down from your height your breath hitches. 

“Sister?” Dream calls out, his hand still on your bark. 

Relief floods your system just as a soft breeze runs its fingers through your thin leaves. Your catkin flowers caress his skin when he smiles at you. Just as fast as relief has found you, guilt consumes you again. Morpheus has escaped, it had taken him 106 years and all you have done is stand here and do nothing. Your branches groan again, more flowers blooming in its wake as you weep again, and the individual petals turn a deep blue color. 

Dream grabs one of your leaves gently as it tries to recede from his touch. “Y/N,” He calls out carefully. “I do not blame you for what happened 106 years ago.”

“I am touched by your sacrifice.” He pauses as he picks his next words carefully. “You were the only one who came to my side when I needed it.” 

You still stay quiet but your petals slowly start to return to their yellow colors. Morpheus takes this as a good sign and continues. 

“I love you, dear sister, I wish for you to never doubt that. If only I could give you a hug for all that you had done for me,” He prods and extends both of his hands outwards. 

You purse your non-existent lips in thought, a very tempting offer. Why not try one more time, to be by your brother’s side? Your bark groans again and you concentrate. You try to remember the details of your human body. How did your hair look? How did you hold yourself? Did you have a mole on this side of your face? 

Your leaves and branches start to shake and shrink in on themselves the more you think. You call in your roots and start to wiggle your toes. You think of your fingers and how they had done so much for you: the paintings you made, the pastries you baked. One last tear escapes down your raw skin and when you open your eyes again, you are looking at Dream through new eyes. 

Morpheus comes into your space and wraps his steadying arms around you. You sob into his jacket until it becomes uncomfortable. Your throat is raw when you’re finally reduced to hiccups. Through it all, Dream is holding onto you, gently caressing your hair the way you have liked since you were born. 

“I like this new hair of yours,” He comments as he pulls at a few strands of your hair. It’s longer this time around and kept the same emotional properties your flowers had. It changes from blue to green as your mood shifts. 

“Great, now I can’t hide my emotions anymore.” You mutter weakly to yourself as it changes to red at your slight annoyance. 

Dream chuckles above you and gives you one final tight squeeze. 

“Welcome home, sister,” He whispers. You take a deep breath, letting it fill your lungs thoroughly. 

“Yes, I am home.” 

I did a surprising amount of research for this fic. Apparently, the first woman to attain a driver's license was like in 1900 so that's why Genny was so surprised you could drive. Also, I would not recommend driving in a 1916 vehicle? Looks like it could explode at any minute.

This was a request! And requests are open, just go to my page and hit that button to submit one.

If you do submit a request, it may take me a bit to get to them just because of the nature of it and my classes are starting to get ready for finals. (Your girl is graduating this semester woohoo!)

I will see you in the next fic!

♡ Yours, Layla

[happypeachsludgeflower]

I know that technically when a god dies they die completely, unable to reenter the cycle of life and death, but the way a god dies is by all their believers abandoning them. Shi Wudu was decapitated by He Xuan, but I don’t think that necessarily destroyed his following. After the main series, it’s plausible for Shi Wudu to reform (whether as a god or a ghost) out of devotion and love for his brother, now with the purpose to save Shi Qingxuan from his inevitable death.