#no he's an immortal walking among humans

[hellofavillain]

Dark Elf King 👑

[aphroditelovesu]

Yandere Apollo w/Soulmate!Reader Headcanons (Romantic)

❝ ☀️ — lady l: Who asked for soulmate au with Apollo? It's more of a soft yandere, but I hope you like these hcs! 💞

❝tw: soulmate au, obsessive and possessive behavior, soft!yandere, implied death.

❝☀️pairing: yandere!apollo x gender neutral!reader.

Apollo always wanted someone to love, someone he could pour out all the love he held inside, be completely devoted to that person and be completely theirs. Apollo always wanted to be loved unconditionally and in return he would love with everything in him.

He wanted more than anything to find his soulmate. The true person he belonged to, the person he would spend all eternity with.

Apollo desperately searched for love, in search of his soulmate, the person who would complete him. He had several affairs, hoping that one of them would complete the missing part of him, but it always ended in tragedy and he knew that none of his past lovers were his soulmate.

So he remained alone for centuries, hoping to one day find the one to whom his heart and soul belonged. Apollo sometimes spent his days wandering among humans, hoping to bump into his love, but that never happened. He was tired. He had become desperate for love, to be loved and this shaped him completely. Apollo was no longer the same.

Until one day he found his soulmate. He found you. The person he had searched for for centuries, the half of himself that was missing. His soulmate.

Apollo would never forget the day he discovered that you were his soulmate. The way his heart began to pound in his chest, his breathing became heavy and his hands sweaty. Soulmate, was all his mind screamed.

During yet another of his pointless visits to humans, Apollo found himself walking aimlessly somewhere when he felt something different. Something inside him clicks, something connecting him to somewhere or someone. He followed what was calling him and was breathless when he discovered what it was.

Among lush forests and bustling cities, he saw a young human with a radiant aura, enveloped by the essence of wisdom and compassion. He saw you and saw the red thread of destiny that connected you. You were his soulmate.

Delighted and stunned by the discovery, the god approached disguised as an ordinary human man, wanting to get to know that luminous soul better. You welcomed him with open arms, eager to discover more about this mysterious man and why he enchanted you so much. It was only after a few weeks together that Apolo revealed the truth. He was a god and you were his soulmate. You felt like you might cry at that moment.

You have always wanted to find your soulmate, all your friends have already found the missing part of them, except you. And your soulmate was not only the most handsome man you've ever seen but also a Greek god, literally. You hugged him tightly and kissed him. Soon you were both undressed and sweaty, the love shining through and the consummation of your bond was made. You were officially soulmates.

Everything was rosy at first, but eventually, Apollo changed. His fear, and his trauma of being alone for so long changed him. He became more possessive and controlling every day. You started to feel suffocated. Apollo, however, didn't care.

He tried to compensate for his possessive tendencies towards you with presents, from jewelry to gifts that he could bestow upon you, in addition to giving you the gift of immortality. He wouldn't lose you to anyone, not even the god of death.

Your soul was linked to his, linked by the thread of destiny that united you as one. It said that Zeus was the one who separated humans from their soulmates and Apollo was so happy that he finally found you that all that mattered to him was that you stayed with him. After all, you were destined to be together.

Apollo's love had become increasingly possessive and needy, the god demanded you all the time. He became clingy, not wanting to be away from you. He's already spent too much time away from you, he wouldn't do it again.

How delirious he was could not be said, but felt. You felt the fear, the dread that Apollo had of losing you and that was what made you susceptible to the god's manipulation. He's just in love with his soulmate. That's why he acts like this.

That's how you end up stuck with your soulmate for all eternity. But for Apollo, in the warmth of true love, they transcended the boundaries between the divine and the mortal, uniting as soulmates destined to remain together for eternity.

Thus, the Greek god found his soulmate, a union that shone with the light of the gods and the purity of human hearts that would later be contaminated by the obsession that controlled him. There's no else to go but his side.

[weebslawyer]

Il Capitano x reader (!fem !wife)

ANGST (based on the last AQ more or less)

AN: please excuse any grammar mistakes, English isn't my first language and I worte all this at 3am with blurry vision 😭

Words count: 1716

For five centuries, you had traversed the shifting sands of time, a quiet sentinel to the rise and fall of nations, the birth and ruin of dreams. The world flowed around you like a ceaseless river, its current reshaping mountains and cities, but you remained a stone beneath the surface—weathered, unyielding. Your soul had become a vast archive of echoes: the laughter of lovers turned to dust, the roar of battles etched in crimson, the whisper of civilizations swallowed by the maw of eternity. To endure beyond the reach of decay was not a triumph; it was a symphony played too long, a dance that outlived its music.

Beneath the shifting constellations, you stood as a paradox—unchanged as the stars rearranged their myths above him, eternal yet burdened with the ache of transient beauty. Eternity was not the gift poets promised, it was a weight that bent the very core of his being, a mirror reflecting centuries of loss. He bore it all—the unbearable light, the endless air thick with memory—not as a choice, but as a truth. You were the keeper of an unbroken vigil, a shadow in the unending dawn, a solitary defiance against time’s relentless march.

That's what you were.

Five hundred years passed since the fall of Khaenri'ah. The land still whispered its lament. Blackened spires clawed at the heavens, their jagged silhouettes etched against a sky that had long since forgotten the stars that once guided your people. The cursed earth beneath your feet bore the scars of divine wrath, its once-thriving beauty now a wasteland of sorrow and silence.

Five hundred years since the world forgot the name of your husband, now known as Capitano. Five hundred years since you fought alongside him for a better world, for the sake of Khaenri'ah people, for the safety of the royal family. Five hundred years since you were round and glowing with his children, their essence long gone now, their bodies dust in wind, the only remains are the little stones you created out of what was left, hidden and stored away. Five hundred years since you last touched your husbands soft, yet scared skin, a symbol of all the fights he has been through, always a champion, and formidable warrior. Five hundred years since you saw the face of the man you love so dearly. A man hunted by his past, a man hunted by his mistakes, his regrets. He was a strong man, and you knew that. He knew that. But yet, all you could do was to wrap your arms around him from behind, a simple gesture to show him that you are there, no matter what, no matter where his choices lead him. His hands always finding yours. The wedding ring, still shining on his finger, matching yours, triumphing over the pass of time, the countless battles. You were always there when he was reminiscing of that kingdom, a fragment of its lost glory, cursed with eternal life but stripped of everything that made life worth living. In his eyes burned the memory of the golden halls of old Khaenri'ah, now reduced to ash, and the faces of those he had loved, now shadows haunting his immortal heart.

Yet somehow, after the passing of time, of challenges, of loss and grief, it was only you and him, him and you.

You were a storm wrapped in flesh, the fire to Capitano’s shadow, a presence as unyielding as the steel of his blade. Where others faltered in fear before his masked visage, you met him with unwavering resolve, your eyes a mirror of his endless determination. From the blood-stained fields of battle to the silent corridors of treachery, you had walked beside him—not as a fragile tether to humanity, but as an anchor that steadied him in the tumult of his unrelenting duty.

You had seen him rise, a towering force among mortals, his loyalty bound not by sentiment but by a fierce, unshakable will. When the world turned against him, branding him a monster, you stood defiant at his side, your voice sharp as any blade, declaring his truth to a world deaf to honor.

In the quiet moments between wars and commands, you were the calm that soothed the tempest within him. You traced the edges of his mask with your fingers as if memorizing the unseen face beneath, whispering truths only he would hear. "You are not alone," you would tell him, her words a shield against the abyss of his solitude.

Through victories and losses, betrayals and triumphs, you remained. Even as the Harbingers gathered their might and the skies darkened with the weight of impending fate, you presence was his unspoken strength. You were not merely his wife but his equal, a force as indomitable as the tides, as eternal as the stars.

In you, Capitano found not just a partner but a reflection of his own relentless spirit—a reminder that even in the cold, merciless march of duty, there could still be warmth, still be love. Together, you were an unstoppable force, your bond a defiance of the world’s cruelty, your story a testament to the power of loyalty, love, and unyielding resolve, but no one will be able to learn about it.

The battlefield was eerily silent when the news reached you—a silence that followed the storm, a silence that mocked your fury. Capitano was gone. The unyielding tower of strength, your shield, your partner through centuries of unrelenting trials, had fallen.

Your breath hitched, with sorrow, but also with a rage so fierce it burned away any tears before they could form. They dared to take him from you.They dared to strike down the one constant in your life, the man who had fought against gods and monsters, who had endured a world that sought to crush him, and who had always returned to you.

You stood on the precipice of the world’s madness, your grief transforming into an inferno that would consume anything in its path. The stars themselves seemed to tremble as your voice split the air, a cry of mourning and of war. A war so painful yet so devastating on your soul.

"Capitano," you whispered, your hands trembling as you looked at him, sitting on a throne that held no king, but a throne that held your lover, the man of men, the warrior of all warriors, the man that long ago was holding your children

"I swore I would stand with you through everything. And now, even in death, I will not abandon you." You said as you slowly approached his lifeless body.

You slowly crawled closer to him, pain eating your soul alive, seeing him like this destroying you. You made your way on his lap, a place where you always find comfort through storms and angry thunders, but this time his arms couldn't comfort you anymore, they couldn't wrap around you anymore, soothe you again. You could hear his weak breathes, a body who's soul long left. You looked at him while your tears where washing your face, not seeming to stop soon. Your trembling hands reached to pull his mask off, to see the man. To see your husband. To see the man that promised you eternity.

"You were my strength" you murmured into the night, your voice a steel-edged whisper. "Now I will be yours."

You spoke softly, even if the tears in your eyes made everything so hard to see. You put his mask on your lap, so now your hands can touch his face, feel the cold skin against your fingers. Your touch so gentle, not wanting to hurt him even in death. You took in every detail, like he will vanish the second you close your eyes.

"You promised me I won't lose you too. Not after everything, my love. Not like this." You whispered biting your lip, before speaking again "I don't know if you will ever hear me, if you are even around like a stray ghost, but I promise we will meet again soon. I will hold you again, kiss you, and love you all over again in the afterlife. Just don't forget me until then, my brave warrior. Oh my love, my peace, my place, my forever. This time be my light through the darkness" you said, kissing his cheeks, his forehead, and his lips one last time, cradling at his chest, being close to him like that, your mind slowly calming down, remembering all the comfortable moments like that, where being in his arms and presence where the only moments of peace in your life.

You spend days like this, not moving in the slightest from his lap. Moving away from him would feel like a divorce. But slowly, beside the immense pain that threatened to rip your heart out, anger started to settle in. Was his sacrifice necessary? Was there anyone to even pretent his heroic act? Why did death consider now that it's time for Capitano to join him and leave you here all alone? You had all those thoughts, crying and breaking down every time you remembered where you were. Pain consuming you hole, whispering to take your revenge, to destroy whoever did that, to hunt down everyone who let this happen.

Your fury was a thing of legend, a tempest that dwarfed even the wrath of gods. You would not rest until you knew the truth of his fall, until the blood of those responsible stained the earth beneath your feet. The Harbingers would hear your fury, the Archons would feel your wrath, and the heavens themselves would tremble beneath your rage. They took every from you, they took the melody that lingers in the chords of your soul, his name the refrain in your heart that keeps singing.

And unfortunately, your vengeance was not reckless, it was calculated, cold, and precise. Every step you took was deliberate, every strike a tribute to the man who had fought for a world unworthy of him. You would burn the skies and sunder the earth if it meant avenging him. For you, love was not a gentle thing, and your anger, born of loss, would not be silenced until the scales of justice were balanced—until those who had taken him paid in kind.

[gyusimp]

°•Lord Muzan feels tired after work

⚠️ WARNINGS: NSFW | Smut content | Fem reader | Fingering | Semi-oral | Minors DNI!

Finally the one-shot I promised! I changed the initial idea so I basically rewrote the whole thing again because of a dream I had and it gave me all the inspiration I needed lmao it even gave me an idea for another longer fic with Muzan. I ended up doing it in the canon Taisho Era so enjoy!

Art credits for the creator (not mine)

It wasn't physical fatigue that he felt, after all, the progenitor of demons was tireless. He was rather fed up. Fed up with his employees, his servants, humans in general and how exhausting it was to be the only perfect and intelligent creature among them. His day had been full of problems today.

The current role he had was that of a young and rich businessman, owner of a company importing foreign products whom he murdered in order to carry out his plans and continue increasing his fortune. He forged a few papers, impersonated some people and murdered others and so the company was his now but that included all his stupid and useless employees. He was so fed up with damn humans, sometimes he avoided dismissals, it depends on their mood and how efficient they were at some point then Muzan fired them, otherwise he just called them to his office simply to kill them.

Then a few months later he met you, a young and beautiful woman in the business world with a company dedicated to natural medicine and importing medicinal plants. You were an essential piece in his plan to conquer the sun. He married you when he had the chance to but you eventually found out that he wasn't human. How come you were still alive then? You discovered it on your own, you didn't make a fuss or try to run away from him, you simply let him know that you already knew through small clues or ways of acting, like you were in charge of closing all the curtains in the house during the day but you didn't ask the servants to do it for you. Your loyalty to him remained despite knowing what he was and that was not lost on Muzan.

One night, he told you what this was all about, if you hadn't left despite knowing his condition then you had to stay alive. Muzan gave you the choice if you wanted to become a demon or not but whatever your answer was, you had to serve him for your entire life. The fact of being immortal did not tempt your human weakness but you told him that by having the ability to walk under the sun, you could be his eyes in the light of day and help him do different things so you both ended up accepting. You were legally his wife, so in front of everyone Muzan treated you as such although there were times in private where he was still a little soft on you, plus, he is an attractive looking man which led you to feel some things more for him , taking on mind his demonic nature.

Today had been a terribly long day, the fatigue in Kibutsuji's body caused the veins on his forehead to stand out strongly under his skin, his red eyes appeared and his pupils turned into vertical slits like a cat's.  He took off the black trench coat he was wearing and left it on the coat rack at the entrance, his fangs grew to normal size after having hidden them all day, as did his sharp blue nails, making one of his servants tremble who should have already gone home. The man next to him was observed with indifference, his skin was pale and he was sweating coldly having seen the small transformation of his master, then he remembered the stories of those man-eating creatures that the women of his town told the children.

"A monster! This man is not human!! MISS KIBUTSUJI, THERE IS A DEMON IN THE HOUSE!" the man shouted trying to alert you.

His shrill screams tried Muzan's patience and when the man turned to walk up the stairs towards you he was cut into pieces in less than 2 seconds. The reddish and thick liquid splashed Kibutsuji's face making him sigh and wipe it with a handkerchief as well as his hand, the drops dripped on the stairs and when he walked next to him he moved it with too much disgust using his foot and continuing his way towards your room upstairs.

Like a gentleman, he knocked on the door before entering and upon hearing your voice he entered the room. You hadn't heard anything but his murderous look told you that he wasn't in the best of moods so you didn't say anything. You went to the bathroom in the large room and put on a pearl-colored sleeveless sleeping dress with a matching silk robe. Just like your husband, you preferred to dress in a Western style, you left your hair down and went out. You found him sitting on the edge of the bed, with both hands together mumbling some things, noticing how stressed he was and without saying anything you knelt on the bed behind him and started massaging his shoulders. You were involved in the world of medicine since you were little, so you knew the points where stress usually accumulates. Feeling your hands exerting pleasant pressure on his body, Muzan couldn't help but tilt his head to the side and put aside everything he was thinking, he took off his tie and closed his eyes, sighing tiredly. You continued caressing his neck, shoulders and back until slowly his muscles relaxed and his veins stopped showing under his skin.

"Can i...?" You asked, bringing your hands to the collar of his shirt.

You unbuttoned the entire garment and got rid of it completely leaving his naked and well-worked torso exposed, you continued massaging his shoulders and back until he felt good enough to close his eyes and lay his head on your chest, feeling your breasts very close to him. Your hands were soft and light, with a sincere and warm touch making his thoughts go elsewhere. While you continued doing your thing, he got rid of his belt and unbuttoned his pants without you realizing it, then grabbed your wrist with some force and brought you in front of him so that you were sitting astride his lap. As soon as you sat down, he took it upon himself to stare at you and open the robe you were wearing to see your breasts under the thin fabric of the nightgown and how your nipples were beginning to stand out. He took off your robe and then grabbed the hem of your nightgown to pull it up and take it off as well. A few seconds passed, he lightly patted your thigh to make you lift your butt so he could get rid of your panties as well, leaving you completely naked under his gaze. He gently took your hand, still looking at you, and brought it up to his face to caress it against his cheek and kiss your palm elegantly.

"You are a rather attractive woman...worthy of bearing my last name." You felt so lucky when he took the time to compliment you since you knew his disdain for almost everything.

You melted at his touch, at his kisses, but an unusual sensation on the skin of your hand made you look in that direction. You saw how a mouth began to form in Muzan's palm with teeth, tongue and everything. You knew about all the changes and transformations that his body was capable of so it no longer surprised you at all since he also knew how to use those changes to your advantage. Muzan smiled at you with seductive malice and with his free hand he grabbed your waist while the hand with his mouth went straight between your legs, placing his palm just below your pussy. You couldn't help but moan and startled a little when you felt his warm breath hitting you, you felt his tongue come out from his palm and begin to suck and lick all your folds. You looked at Muzan with a huge blush as you grabbed his shoulders. While his palm was in charge of your center, he brought 2 of his fingers to your hole, making you arch your back as you felt him enter and arch his fingers inside you. Both sensations made you begin to moan his name and move your hips on him to increase your own pleasure as he hardened dangerously beneath you. His entire mouth sucked on your pussy, playing with it with his teeth and pressing your clit against his tongue over and over again as he moved his fingers and the mouth on his face kissed and bit your neck and collarbones. You were starting to get very wet, the saliva and your juices between your legs making you feel very hot and slippery. Muzan's free hand took you from behind to bring you closer to him and caressed your back until it went down and reached your butt, then he went to your bust and began to knead one of your breasts between his fingers, causing you endless moans.

"Aa-aah...Muzan! Aah!" You could barely speak properly.

You rubbed your center on the palm of his hand while the mouth beneath you devoured you completely, you listened to the wet sounds that leaked beneath you and imagining the dirty scene aroused you more and more. The simple act of letting the Demon King fuck you as he pleased turned you on no matter what. Muzan was going too fast and every rub on and lick on your folds was killing you, you clung tightly to his shoulders making scratches that regenerated immediately feeling your orgasm getting closer to the point of not even being able to stay upright. Your head leaned down, leaving your left hand on his shoulder while you held on to the bed with your right as if your life depended on it, never stopping moaning or moving.

Muzan watched you from above, proud of the mess he made of you, of how he was able to lower such a prestigious and elegant lady to such a level, making her beg for more as if she were a prostitute. You were close, he knew it by the way you squeezed his fingers tighter than before and he didn't want to let this moment pass him by. Muzan grabbed your chin to make you look into his eyes.

"Look at me...you're about to cum, aren't you? I want you to look at me..."

You tried to raise your face towards him but lust was stronger than your five senses, your body was heavy with pleasure and you could barely open your eyes properly. You didn't heed his request and that might make him angry so this time he held you tighter, digging his nails into your soft flesh making your cheeks sting.

"I told you I want you to look at me when you do it...it's an order." He demanded.

You clung to his shoulders without stopping moving and he increased his speed, you squeezed him again and just when you felt yourself on the edge you looked down but forced yourself to half open your eyes and look up again just as you screamed of pleasure as you feel all your whitish and slippery discharge come out from your core, wetting all of Muzan's hand under you where his mouth did not waste a single drop.

"Your taste is very pleasant, dear. I would never get tired of it." He licked his lips.

You were shaking in his lap, sweating all over your body, and a huge blush came over you again when you looked down and saw the mess you had left in his pants. Muzan smiled evilly at you and pushed you on the bed to change places and position himself over you after having completely gotten rid of all his clothes.

Your hair was a mess on the bed, your chest rose and fell trying to normalize your breathing and you could feel your sensitive folds throbbing after such a strong euphoria. You finished having your orgasm, you were wet and slippery and Muzan wasn't going to waste that.

"It's my turn, precious."

He told you, showing you his fangs in a smile and in less than you expected he opened your legs to position himself in the middle of you, he took one of your legs behind your knee and placed it on his shoulder without letting go and then entered you with a single thrust making you moan intensely. He didn't care that you had not yet adapted to his size, he began to stretch you and move repeatedly inside you until he aroused you again. You could hear his soft moans and grunts in your ear as he moved, you took him by the shoulders again and adjusted your legs so you both felt better.

Even though this was only the second round for you you felt almost dead tired, your legs and waist were starting to hurt and you envied the way your husband wasn't even sweating. A pleasurable sensation formed inside you as you felt the crashes of each of his thrusts against your clit and the pressure you felt on it again and again causing you to stretch your toes and squeeze Muzan very tightly again. He loved feeling you that way, you drove him crazy with pleasure and you noticed how the veins appeared again on his back and arms but this time it was due to the strong arousement he was feeling. He had the nerve to lift his head from your shoulder and moan heavily as he closed his eyes and increased his speed, feeling you suck him deep.

"Fuck...you're perfect nngh, you're even better than those 12 fucking idiots." He moaned, complimenting you.

You loved pleasing your husband and even more so seeing that you were doing a good job. Knowing that you could manage to put the Demon King in such a vulnerable state turned you on more, making you eagerly wait for his orgasm and the second one on your part, but on the other hand it made you nervous. Muzan's arousal was as strong as 10 men combined every time he fucked you and his release was just as intense or even more so, so when he tilted his head back after you cum again, you felt a huge amount of his falling inside you reaching the bottom of your insides, spilling the rest between your legs until forming a whitish stain on the bed, under the two of you.

The way Muzan felt his scent permeate your flesh once again made him feel powerful, it was a way of claiming you as his because no matter how many times you showered or cleaned yourself, how many days went by without him fucking you, Muzan let his cells inside you, so that any creature that knew of his existence would also know that you belonged to him.

[angelsrcute]

Haloo :D im wondering if u r taking requests now but if u r can u write a fyodor with immortal female reader ? It would be wonderful if u can can but u can ignore this request if u want to

“ But can't you see my dear? I am your doppelganger ♡”

⌗ A LOVE IMMORTAL SUCH AS MINE, WILL COME TO ME, ETERNALLY. 𐙚˙⋆.˚

(´∀｀*)ε｀　) ౨ৎ N–sfw content !! ; Dom!Immortal!Vampire!Fyodor + Sub!Immortal!Vampire!F!Reader ➜ cws: Modern au, Jealous!Fyodor, Vampire themes, fwb → lovers, alcohol mentions, biting, unprotected sex + use of lube, tit play, overstimulation, creampie, oral sex (f receiving), slight Yandere!Fyodor(?), Soft!Fyodor.

꒰ † ੭ — this ended up being my longest fic ever, lol, 1.3k words!! I am taking reqs! + a lil inspiration from olgami, it's such a good webtoon. (人´∀`)♪ Translation: "Мышка" (myshka)

When humans age, they die and pass on to the afterlife, don't they? Death was something that never came to you, ah immortality, such a cool thing. It was more like a curse to you, humans coming and going, years passing by but still no one seemed to notice the same face walking among them for all these decades. Faces unrecognisable as you try to remember their names, their relation with you, not that it mattered anyway.

Relationships were a nuisance, blink and they're already gone, dead, as you stand in their funeral. It was a really funny thing, oh how you wished you could die instead of watching your loved ones die.

Fyodor Dostoevsky. Not a famous name for humans but for vampires, they say he's the oldest vampire to ever live. Have you ever met with him? You did, decades ago, in his bed, in his mansion, fyodor needed some relief and so did you.

He was the one who saved you from your death, why? Because he thought you were interesting. He'd take care of you and teach you how to hunt, how to kill people and make sure no one finds out. He seemed like a lonely man too, house deep in the woods, living all by himself.

The other vampires though, had this bloodlust, to kill him, to become the lord themselves. Everyone clawing at any chance they get, to paint their fingers red with his blood. You never understood their reasoning, what's so good living a life like this?

Dressed in the finest silk and jewelries, he liked seeing you in white clothing the most. He said it made you look like a saint, the saint that brought some change to his boring life. He definitely wasn't a fan of other vampires eyefucking you at meetings. Well, they'd end up going missing anyway.

Cleaning up after him was annoying, why did he have to be so busy? that also playing the piano as he drank wine. Blankly staring at the body in front of you as you clean the floor, muttering curses at him.

It didn't take long but you fell for him, yearning for his touches, but you could never confess, fearing it would ruin your relationship. Your body burning like fire as he kisses you, snapping his hips against you, dress ripped off and discarded on the floor.

“You liked that dress? I'll tell them to make one for you again, money isn't a problem for me.”

Cold slender fingers playing with your nipples as he decorates your neck with bite marks, drawing blood from them. Tongue darting out to lick the blood as he whispers about how sweet you taste to your ears. Your nails digging into his shoulders as your eyes roll back from pleasure, his hands holding your leg up at this point.

Everything was going smoothly until one day he disappeared, without a single word. All the other vampires went crazy over this fact. Some were happy thinking he finally died, some just disappointed that they couldn't be the one killing him.

You returned to Russia after a lot of years, travelling all over the world, everything was different to you, with the years, technology also grew, like for instance, this human was staring into a phone. Bumping into you and not saying a single apology but they had the audacity to curse you instead, calling you blind.

Well, guess you just found yourself dinner, how lucky. Hiding the body with no effort, muttering to yourself “The world would be a little better without people like this.”

You went down an alley, there was a nice bar here, you remembered. Entering it, you took a seat after ordering your favourite drink. From the corner of your eyes, you could see a stranger coming up to you, sitting beside you, “I've never seen you around here, darling, do you need some help? I know a really nice place around here–”

The man went on rambling about nonsense, poor attempts at flirting, and why is he even talking about himself, you don't remember asking. Quietly sipping on your drink as you ignored the stranger. The stranger, though, seemed offended, “Hey I'm talking to you, whore, if you don't want attention, dress up more!”

Now that part really got on your nerves, what were you supposed to wear, a long ass winter jacket? You could just pretend to play along and just kill this guy, not even interested in drinking his blood! But someone else's voice stopped you, a voice too fucking familiar.

It was none other than fyodor, you watched as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you by his side, eyes narrowing at the stranger with a smile, “It's really rude to flirt with someone's lover, don't you think? You'll walk away from here and remember nothing.” The guy on command, got up and left the bar, the people in the surrounding, definitely didn't care.

“You look like you've seen a ghost, Мышка.” He chuckled, as if he just met you yesterday and not decades ago.

“What the fuck? Where the hell were you for all these years!?” You shouted at him, burning a hole into his face with your glare, “Of course I'm surprised, am I not supposed to be when you appear like that? God!”

“Let's discuss it somewhere private, shall we? I know a hotel nearby.” You hated how composed he seemed to be, but still followed him, giving him a chance to explain himself.

“I was a bit hurt, dear, why didn't you tell the man to leave? or were you interested?” He asked while sitting down on the bed.

“Is that what we're talking about? Give me an explanation, fyodor, where the hell were you?”

“A bit busy, don't mind me, I had business that needed to be taken care of.”

“That's it? You could've at least told me a goodbye! or sent letters.”

“Ah, but that would give away my location, wouldn't it? I didn't want any disturbances, but enough about me, where were you? I couldn't find you in my mansion.”

“I was travelling, and I did not see a point in staying there if you weren't there but you really had me worried, you know?” You sighed, sitting beside him.

Well this was supposed to be meeting up with a past ‘friend’. So why did this turn into a fucking session? According to a certain someone, he wanted to make up for his mistakes!

Currently between your thighs, lapping up your folds like he hadn't eaten in years, savouring the taste like it was his favorite meal. He teased your clit with his tongue, gently flicking it, before sucking it into his mouth. Your moans and whines were music to his ear, he could feel you were close, his tongue speeding up to make you cum.

“F-fuck…gonna cum–” You stammered before cumming, lewd slurping sounds filling the room before getting up and kissing you, slipping his tongue in your mouth, making you taste yourself. A string of saliva joining your tongue after he breaks the kiss, he definitely likes seeing you like this— face flushed, hair disheveled, neck decorated by pretty hickeys by him.

You don't remember what round it was, all you can feel is the way he keeps fucking his cum back in your cunt. Sweat glistening on your body as you can't help but let out whimpers due to overstimulation, “T-Too much, fedya…slow down–”

“I'm sure you can cum for me again, my dear.”

He kisses your tear soaked face while rubbing soothing circles on your clit to calm you down. You pull him closer to kiss again, running your hands through his soft hair before he cums in you for the last time and pulls out.

Fyodor runs you a warm bath and then puts you on the bed, climbing in to cuddle with you, well, such a memorable get together isn't it?

Taglist: @blueberrisdove

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

w.count: 900+ - 'growing old' w this god of old :') (mentions of death of old age!)

morax was a god able to change and alter his appearance at will. he had done so in the past several times. the whole reason he was able to appear as he does is because he had learned to hide away his godly- or even previously lesser-known dragonic- features. of course, he could hide his horns, his tail, and his scales, but there's charactistics that are far more difficult to conceal with such magic. such as his golden vein that run along the expanse of his body. even his geo-darkened arms were able to be altered to the same shade of the rest of his skin.

still, when morax had 'died' and retired as rex lapis to live among his people as simply the wise zhongli, he didn't intend to alter his image for the foreseeable future.

you were the being that had changed his mind.

even though he was more than well aware that you were mortal and he would long outlive you, he never considered his own disposition and how it would look to outsiders. additionally, the thought that you would contemplate leaving him one day when your age catches up to you for that very same reason never crossed his mind.

"wouldn't it be for the best?" you ask him one afternoon when the light of the sun was bright in his golden eyes. "if people see me aging and growing older year by year, but you remain the same... won't that put your identity at risk?" it twists his heart. you weren't chasing him off, you were trying to be reasonable and prepare him for a possible future he couldn't avoid even if he wanted to. you only wish to protect him and his secret. he knows that, but still-

"that is still very far off, my dear," is how he tries to reassure you. however, after you had brought it to his attention, he already made a decision on the 'matter 'problem' which is your human life span. instead of leaving or relocating somewhere where people wouldn't recognize him before coming back in a set amount of time to start all over, zhongli already knows he would choose to stay by your side despite the risks.

zhongli never voiced aloud how the both of you would proceed with his immortality going forward again. he didn't feel the need to bring it up twice and you didn't have it in yourself to ask again; it wasn't like you wanted to leave him in the first place, so you just decided to let the chips fall where they land.

however, the first time you gleam into his own choices was years later. you didn't know when it happened, but somehow his appearance began to slightly shift and alter. along the course of your aging, he mirrored you.

crows feet crinkled in the corners of his eyes. smile lines formed deeper when his lips would curl. his brown hair would gain new grey streaks seemingly overnight. he would soon acquire a cane that would aid him in keeping his daily routine of walking around the harbor (as well as add a touch more elegance into his gait). the veins along his hands would grow to become more noticeable under his gloves as his wedding band continued to sit comfortably on his happily married hand.

zhongli was hardly an actor; but hearing him talk to those younger than you and himself like a proper old man was more amusing than you ever thought it could be.

that was another thing she slowly altered. his voice slowly began to gain more gravel than it did before. he would clear his throat of his 'older age' before speaking with a tone that sounded like a proper human man getting on in years.

it was a beautiful and soothing illusion he decided to show you. but even something kind and wonderful like spending your life growing old with the man you loved since your youth held its pains.

when you were ill, zhongli could do nothing but watch and hope his nursing and the skilled doctors in liyue could bring you back to health. when you got hurt, he couldn't properly relate to your pain as another mortal man could. when your body began to experience real, human pain from aging all he could do is feel like a fraud since all of his aging was just a fabrication of the real thing.

still, even when all those things happened and his identity as a god was thrown back into his face, you always thanked him for doing such kind things for you. you never once called him out for being a fraud, or faking being human. you never frowned at him or scolded his actions. you always just smiled.

even when he sat besides your aged, wrinkled and graceful body as you lay in your bed, you just smiled at him. his fraudulent wrinkled hand that held your authentically aged one still held the affection of a young man in love. the tears that gathered his still vibrant golden eyes still saw the person he loved years ago.

all he did was blink and before he knew it, the person he loved had aged and smiled their life away before his very eyes. the same eyes you begged him never to dilute the hue of.

it wasn't fair just how quickly the human lifespan comes and goes compared to his own. it takes zhongli several long years and another staged 'human' death as and 'old man' before he's able to stand before your grave with the same face you remember meeting a long, long time ago.

this new zhongli kneels before your resting place, fondly with your favorite flower in his gloved hand.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

For the love of god(dess) || CL16 {1}

A/N & Summary: Greek God/dess AU. This was a draft I had wasting away with reincarnation trope. Reader is the goddess of love. I don't even know what I am doing anymore lol Warnings: reader injury, blood WC: 2.2k Part One || Two

“Do you ever stop working?”

You leered across the scrying bowl to the unwelcome guest waltzing into your sanctum. “Unlike some, my work never ends.”

“Come now, I remember a time when you used to love my little soirées,” Dionysus whispered in your ear as he dipped his finger in the bowl, disturbing the still waters. The god of debauchery had never held just a little party, there was a reason hedonism and excess had been celebrated for millennia. “Take one night off. It will be one to remember.”

“Liar,” you said with a smile despite yourself. “I still don’t have any memory of the last one.”

He winked and flicked the droplet of water from his finger at you playfully, “Then I am doing my job right. It’s on earth…”

Damn, the god knew how to pique your interest. Thousands of years watching through the haze of the scrying bowl did little to capture their humanity. Whenever you could, you used to walk among them to see the fruits of your labour. 

“Love, you are eternal - yet you waste away in this��” he drifted off as he looked around the empty stone room, carvings depicting your greatest champions along the walls, “place.”

While the other gods had their golden palaces you were content in the temple that had once been filled with priestesses who served the deity you once were. A shell of who you used to be reflected back in the still water. What was the Goddess of Love with a broken heart? Cold and empty like this temple.

Your thoughts darkened and shadows crept along the walls before you took a deep breath. It had been a few decades since you had some fresh air, maybe it was for the best to get out. “Fine. One night.”

Dio grinned and swept an arm around your waist before leading you to the door. The sunlight hit your face and you cursed Apollo until your eyes adjusted to the brightness. The drunken god took one look at the white robe you wore, a silver sash tied at the waist, and tutted.

“I know beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but this won’t do.”

“Any other insults?” you dared as you cast a hand over yourself, the white cotton bleeding to a deep red leather skin that hugged your body and accentuated your assets. A black corset snapped at the contours of your waist and pressed your breasts up, the armour unnecessary but as familiar as breathing. The others may have forgotten the great war but your heart remembered the loss and you swore you would not leave yourself vulnerable again. 

He let out a low whistle and shook his head. 

“Oh, one more thing.” Your bow and quiver snapped into place across your back and drew a groan from Dio. “What?” Your eyes darted to the chalice that was forever held in his left hand. “You have your attachments, I have mine.”

He held his cupped hand up, wine sloshing over the rim, and pointed a finger at you. “Firstly, this is a curse - not a choice. And secondly, this is useful to drink out of.”

“Maybe you should have been more careful where you stuck your dick.”

“I didn’t know the nymph was one of Zeus’ favourites, obviously,” Dio grumbled before setting off down the path that would lead to the mortal realm.

–

Las Vegas, Mortal Realm, 2023 PIW (Post-Immortal-Wars)

You already knew the party would be a large one, but this was big even by Dionysus’ standards. Thousands of people imbibed in the free flowing alcohol and danced under strobe lights in Sin City, his favourite playground. Dio sent a mischievous wink before he touched the champagne tower and his power imbued with the liquor to increase the effect and ensure everyone was on the same level as him.

“Drink, Love,” he ordered as he tipped the rim of his glass to your lips. Sweet wine warmed your throat as much as his power did and you drank it down knowing that for at least a few minutes your cares would be diminished - but they always came back too soon. “Now dance.”

Your hips swayed and your hands found themselves moving above your head as the lights mesmerised you. Human scents came and went as they moved around you, their pheromones calling to your power as they found lovers, if only for the night. One particular scent caught your attention and you followed it to find Dio talking to the human. He had been god touched and the mark glowed on his brow - not that the mortals could see it.

“Love, this is the man of the hour,” Dio gushed, casting a hand to the party as if it were all for him. “Max here won the race.”

You didn’t know what race he was referring to, nor did you care. “Of course he did,” you stated dryly. Max was Nike’s champion and Nike was the Goddess of Victory in everything except what mattered. “Congratulations.”

You grabbed Dio’s hand and drank your fill from his cursed chalice in the hopes it would douse the fire that ignited in your veins. If Nike had fought alongside you in the war instead of wasting her time with her Olympians and their silly sports then maybe Károlos would have survived. Maybe you would do more than just survive eternity alone.

“Sorry, she doesn’t get out much,” Dio joked, clapping the victor on the arm. “Drink, my friend. The night is young and life is short.”

You slipped away into the sea of bodies, drifting through until a cool breeze called from the balcony and you escaped to the quiet. Your breath exhaled with a heaviness only an immortal could carry and a chuckle startled you.

“Fuck, not another one. Can’t I have one moment of peace?” you groaned as his scent found you before the handsome man stepped out of the shadows of the corner he had been hiding in.

“Sorry,” he apologised. “This was my hiding place first.”

The mark of the Adonis glowed beneath the dark hair that fell over his forehead and you internally scoffed at the god’s vanity. The man standing before you would have been stuck down if he showed his face in Olympus, he was far too good looking it would be considered an offence to the petty gods. And those eyes, green eyes just like...You had to look away before you could finish that thought.

“What do you have to hide from?” you asked, leaning against the rail as you watched fireworks explode among the stars. “You’re a champion.”

“You must have me confused with someone else,” he laughed bitterly.

“I know a champion when I see one.” You felt Dionysus breeze onto the balcony before you heard his drunken laugh behind you, the bitter smell of blackthorn root on his breath from the drug he had smoked.

“Love, eternal Love, I found you,” he slurred as hugged your back, the feathered fletches from the quiver of arrows irritating him. “Must you wear these prickly things?”

Before you could stop him, he ripped an arrow out, the sharpened point catching the side of your neck. A hiss of pain escaped your lips as blood trickled down your throat and the power that kept the weapons hidden from mortal sight broke with the bead of blood on the tip. 

Adonis’ champion gasped as his mind raced to piece together what he was seeing. A woman bleeding and a man holding the weapon. His eyes narrowed and he leapt at Dio, trying to wretch the bloodied arrow from him before he could attack you again. You could have laughed at how futile the attempt was for a mortal to attack a god but said god was higher than Zeus’ perch in his palace and rotten drunk off his wine. 

The fates must have been laughing their asses off as the mortal and god collided, both tumbling to the floor before the mortal screamed in pain.

A hand reached into your chest, at least that was how it felt when the fire exploded inside you. “No, no, no, no,” you cried as Dio fell away from the mortal and you saw the arrow buried in the champion's chest. “What have you done?”

The fire faded as the bond snapped into place and you hated how you suddenly feared for the mortal. That fear had you rushing to his side and falling to your knees as Dio stared at his hands. “I, I didn’t mean to,” he stammered. 

Even the mortals knew the power those arrows held, the stories were told throughout the ages of how just a nick from one could make strangers, enemies even, fall for each other in an instant. The greatest weapon of all was love and it had the power to destroy even the immortals. And Dio had just stabbed the mortal with one, coated in your blood. Blood that bonded.

You gripped the shaft and tugged the arrow out of his chest before slamming your hand over the wound and pouring your energy into it, sealing it closed. He reached for your hand that was slick with his blood and you let him hold it, unable to fight the love that came from your own power. 

“You’ll be okay,” you promised him before narrowing your eyes at Dio. “You, not so much.”

“It was an accident, I swear, it was like I couldn’t control myself. Charles just jumped-”

Your eyes flared silver as you looked back at the unearthly green shade of his eyes. Same eyes, same name, Adonis’ champion. You had foolishly thought Adonis had chosen the mortal for his beauty, but if the mortal was reincarnated then he would also bear the mark on his brow.

“Károlos,” you whispered as a feeling of rightness settled across the universe.

Charles frowned at the name but understood the tenderness in the tone, such a sweet sound. His chest no longer burned and smooth skin met his palm as he felt for the wound that had healed, but the blood on his shirt was proof he had not imagined it all. 

“Who are you?” he asked as he rose to his feet, tasting his blood on his tongue.

You flinched at the question and looked to the stars. “I go by many names, but you may call me Y/N.”

“You called me Károlos.”

“That was your name the first time you walked the earth,” Adonis said, appearing on the balcony in a flash of light. “Károlos, Karlaz, Carl, Charles - it’s always the same. A hundred lifetimes lived, always searching, always waiting. All for this moment.”

When Károlos had been killed you had stormed to the Underworld ready to bargain with Hades, but he had said Károlos wasn’t in the Elysian Fields. You hadn’t believed him in your anger. All this time, Adonis had kept his soul safe. 

You reached behind to your quiver and drew an arrow, grabbing your bow and notching it. “You had two thousand years to tell me he was alive.”

Adonis held his hands up, shifting closer to Dio ready to sacrifice him as a shield. “You think the fates would let me tell you! I did what I could but you were happy to grovel alone in your temple.”

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” Charles asked, wondering why no one had come to see what was going on, except when he looked at the party everyone was frozen like the time had come to a stop.

“I was grieving! And now I will have to mourn him anew, because he’s fucking mortal!”

Adonis grinned and you debated releasing the arrow. “Are you sure about that? Is that not your blood that runs in his veins now? I can smell it on him.”

You paused. Your blood had been on the arrow, immortal blood. You and Charles had gravitated to each other without realising it and you inhaled as you leaned a little closer. There was still a hint of that fresh mortal scent but it was an undercurrent to the aether that grew stronger with each breath. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Charles snapped as you dissected him with your eyes like an experiment. “And why is no one else moving?”

You unnotched the arrow and waved the feathered end at Adonis. “We are going to have words about this later.” The beautiful god nodded before disappearing in a flash of light.

“So I'm forgiven, right?” Dio asked with a shy smile. “Told you it would be one to remember.”

You held a hand up to silence him and looked at Charles. “I don’t know how to answer your questions without making more. It might be easier if I show you.”

He accepted your hand without hesitation and you wondered how much of that was the force of the bond or because on some unconscious level his soul recognised yours. Either way, you smiled at the warmth between your skin before leaving the mortal realm behind.

“Where are we going?” he asked as the stars faded with the lights of Sin City.

“Home.”

–

For Reference: Dionysus - God of Wine and Pleasure Nike - Goddess of Victory Adonis - God of Beauty, Desire and Rebirth Károlos - (Old derivative for Charles) A warrior who was fated to be your soulmate before being killed protecting you in the Immortal Wars. Reincarnated as Charles Leclerc by Adonis. Olympus - Immortal Realm

Click here for part two.

[actiniumwrites]

hiya! if your requests are still open could i request a scenario any of the “immortal” characters (e.x: the archons & adepti) with a mortal!reader who exchanges a part of them to become immortal so that they don’t have to worry about leaving the character? the reader’s gender is up to you!

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋 (𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄)

synopsis: in which you exchange your vision for immortality, determined to live an eternity with your lover

characters: venti, zhongli, scaramouche, and dainsleif x gn!reader

warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, crying, mentions of death and mortality, fear of death, mentions of morbid conversations, scaramouche might be a little ooc here, purposefully inaccurate depictions of how celestia and visions work

notes: um so this request was sent to me back in november of 2022, so, anon, i am very sorry it took me so long to write this. i loved the idea a lot so i hope you enjoy this. also i’m not 100% sure scaramouche is immortal, but he’s been around for centuries and isn’t human so we’re just going to assume he is 👍

Venti:

The wind was blowing softly as you walked up to the giant tree, Vennessa’s Tree. You could hear the faint sounds of a lyre playing an alluring tune among it. If your boyfriend was anywhere, it was here…or the bar.

An off key note made your eyes snap up from where you were watching the ground, not expecting him to have heard you so easily.

“Hello, my love!” Venti cheered.

“Hi, Venti,” you lovingly spoke softly, moving to sit down next to him. Your head carefully moved to rest upon his shoulder and he continued to play softly, although this time around, it was a different song — one of your favorites.

A smile pulled at the sides of your lips. It was the first one since you’d gotten back from your journey. The very same journey your boyfriend was unaware of.

When he finished playing it, Venti set the lyre down next to him against a tree root. His face turned serious, “Something’s wrong.”

“Is there?” you played dumb, unsure of how to bring up the topic at hand. Venti didn’t fall for it. He never did.

He began to scan over your body for any sign of injuries, afraid something bad happened. When he saw there was nothing there, his hands gently placed themselves on the sides of your cheeks so he could rotate your head. He smiled the whole time, but you knew he was just masking his concern.

“I can feel it,” he said slowly, eyes squinting as he looked far off into the distance, “something’s different.”

You tried to hold it back, but tears sprung to your eyes. There was no hiding it now, “Venti, I…”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he hurriedly wiped your tears as you looked up at him, “it’s okay, I swear! You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s just,” you sniffled. The tears weren’t from injuries or hurt feelings, but simply because you were overwhelmed. The entirety of your future was now uncertain aside from the fact that you could no longer face death. You had centuries ahead of you, and it wasn’t something you had before, “my vision. I traded it.”

“What? Why would you…” he mumbled, mind racing back and forth. You loved your vision. It was something you had worked so hard for as a child, a representation of your dedication. It wasn’t like you needed money or anything, so why would you get rid of it?

Through your tear filled eyes, you smiled, “You don’t have to worry anymore, Ven. All those years ahead, we can spend them together.”

“You…you’re…?” he breathed out heavily, realization hitting him all at once. A smile broke through his lips, happy tears of his own were beginning to form, “you did that for me?”

You nodded and he threw himself against you, embracing you tightly. In all the years he had been alive, Venti was sure he would be alone forever. But in life and death, you were with him forever.

Zhongli:

Zhongli hadn’t noticed right away.

He was perceptive, yes, but there didn’t seem to be anything amiss with you at first. You often hid things very well. It was one of the only things he didn’t like about you. If something were to go wrong because he wasn’t observant enough with you, Zhongli would feel perpetually guilty.

It wasn’t until weeks after your journey that he had finally realized something had changed.

You seemed normal for the past few weeks. There were a few moments where you were oddly fidgety or anxious, but he chalked it up to the fact that you had just gotten back from a work trip. Perhaps you were tired out from it. Plenty of people came back a little on edge from trips, he had seen it first hand.

When it became continuous, worries began to whisper in his ear. No, he hadn’t thought you cheated or did something bad. Zhongli knew you well enough to know you weren’t that kind of person. If anything, he was worried that something bad had happened to you. That maybe someone hurt you or there was something you couldn’t tell him.

So, he brought it up at dinner one day.

His hand reached across the table, warmly cupping it around yours. His thumb gently traced over the back of it, a soothing action he knew you loved. He inhaled and pursed his lips before bluntly asking, “Did someone hurt you? Because if they did, I want you to know you can tell me and I will take care of it.”

Your face morphed into confusion, awkwardly laughing at his wild assumptions, “I’m sorry, what? Where’d you get that idea?”

Zhongli retracted his hand from yours slowly. His face was now equally as confused as yours, “I apologize, my love. You have been acting rather off since your trip. I thought maybe something bad had happened or someone may have hurt you. Am I incorrect?”

Another awkward laugh fell from your lips before you sighed and averted your eyes to look out the window of the restaurant, “Yes, but nothing bad happened. I’ve just been a little…down about something.”

He furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head a bit to the side, “If you were feeling upset, you could have come to me. You know I hate to see you like that.”

“I know, I just,” you started hesitantly, “I wasn’t ready to tell you yet.”

“Tell me…what?”

The whirlwind of emotions you had been feeling over the past few weeks began to hit you harshly and you couldn’t stop the tears from forming in your eyes, “I traded my vision, Zhongli.”

He took a few seconds to process, but his hand grabbed yours again. He wasn’t sure what you were talking about, but the fact that you were crying was enough to scare him, “I…I am afraid I do not understand.”

“I made a deal with Celestia…to be come immortal. In exchange for immortality, they took my vision,” you explained slowly, staring down at the table.

Zhongli rose from his seat slowly before walking to your side of the table. He kneeled down beside you, a few tears springing at his own eyes as he looked directly into yours, “Why would you do that?”

“For you,” you breathed out happily, cupping his face as the tears fell from your eyes “I want to be with you forever, Zhongli.”

Zhongli rose a bit from his place on the floor. Cupping your face with his hands, he kissed you softly, yet eagerly. You could feel the love and passion with in it. All the sadness melted away in an instant.

He had witnessed so many of his friends and past lovers parish before him. Victims to time and mortality. But here you were, willing to sacrifice something you cared for so much to spend an eternity with him.

And in that moment, Zhongli realized he’s never loved someone as much as he’s loved you.

Scaramouche:

You were used to Scaramouche pushing you away when things got rough. Not because he was angry with you or tired of you, but because his emotions were too much to handle. The sadness was too much to bear.

The conversation of immortality had come up very often. A worry of his that he just couldn’t seem to shake.

What would happen when you were gone?

How was he supposed to move on?

Love someone else?

If Scaramouche was being honest, he knew there was no way he could love another. Not after you, the one person he’s ever truly loved and the only one he hasn’t lost. You understood and cared for him in a way that no one else ever had or ever could. Despite not having a real heart, his love for you was so strong enough to make him feel like he did.

When you left for some sort of trip, Scaramouche hadn’t been suspicious of anything. You claimed it was for your job — just a week long trip out of Sumeru to take care of some business. It seemed urgent, according to you at least. He understood and didn’t question any part of your story, even if it did have holes in it.

Although he didn’t show it outwardly, the week without you was rather miserable for him. Anytime you were gone, everything seemed to remind him of the centuries that he had been alone. The people he had watched die or turn on him and how weak he felt. It made him wonder, once again, how he could ever live without you.

When you returned days later, it was late at night. The lights to your shared home were turned off and everything was silent. You dropped your things inside, but before you could head to your room, you caught a glimpse of your boyfriend through the window. His hat was cast aside on the grass next to him where he was lying down. The wind was blowing his hair softly across his face as he gazed up at the stars, something you frequently did together.

Coincidentally, it was during those times that the topic of immortality would come up. The stars made Scaramouche sad when he peered up at them. Despite not believing in their genuine existence, he would hate to look up one day and find you among them. Far away from him. Mortality permanently holding you in its grasp.

You silently walked outside to where he was lying down, careful not to disturb him. You laid down next to him, gently taking his hand in yours. His fingers interlocked themselves with yours, but he didn’t bother to turn and look at you, already knowing who it was. When you looked to him, however, his eyes were glistening with small tears, the stars reflecting in them. He looked ethereal, but you hated how sad he looked — eyebrows furrowed, a frown pulling his lips downward.

“I’m not ready for you to leave,” he whispered painfully, voice cracking a bit as his eyes finally met yours.

You send him a fond smile, eyebrows turning upwards, “I’m not leaving anytime soon. You don’t have to worry.”

“But you will,” he started, a hint of anger laced his voice, directed at those who dared to take away the one thing he loved, “You’ll leave eventually. Just like everyone I’ve ever known. It’s only a matter of time.”

You sat up slowly, reaching into the pocket of your pants and grabbing something out. A flash of metal caught Scaramouche’s eye. He sat up instantly, recognizing what the mysterious object was.

It was your vision. The bright shining blue light it normally had was entirely gone, drained of power. Wordlessly, you handed it to him. He grabbed it, but looked up into your eyes with confusion. When he did, he finally noticed the exhaustion and dried tears all over your face.

“What is this?” He angrily inspected the grayed vision in his hands, “What happened to you? If someone hurt you, I swear to you, I’m going to kill them.”

“No!” you quickly exclaimed, interrupting his oncoming burst of anger, “No one hurt me. I did this myself.”

“Start explaining,” he demanded. Although he looked angry, you could see the worry and fear in his eyes.

“I’m tired of these conversations,” you hesitantly started, averting your eyes to a tree in the distance. You could feel your own sad frown pulling at your lips as you fidgeted with the vision he had returned to you. Inhaling, you continued, “If I’m being honest, I’m not okay with leaving you either. It tears me apart to see you like this, Scaramouche. It sounds selfish, but I…I don’t want to think of your life without me. Not when it’s already hurting you this much and I’m not even dead yet.”

You paused to wipe the tears that had unknowingly began to fall from your eyes. Gesturing to the vision, you explained, “The trip I went on wasn’t for work, and I’m sorry for lying to you about it. It was to make an exchange. By trading this with Celestia, I’m no longer mortal.”

Scaramouche’s eyes flickered back and forth between yours and the lifeless vision rested in your hands. A mix of anger, sadness, and relief hit him all at once. Years of memories flashed in his head from all the mistreatment in Inazuma, the Harbingers, and to his newfound life in Sumeru. But most importantly, he saw you and all the ways you’ve loved him ever since you found each other. His voice wobbled a bit, dancing between the lines of neutrality and sadness, “Why would you do that for me?”

You tossed the vision to the side and held his hand again, “My vision may have meant a lot to me, but nothing will ever mean as much to me as you do. I would trade everything I’ve ever owned to be with you forever if that’s how it had to be.”

The two of you laid back down together against the cool grass, staring back up at the stars. This time, however, his arms embraced you tightly. The stars seemed to shine a little more brightly, a little more beautifully. There was no chance for them to take you away from him anymore, and Scaramouche was forever grateful for that.

Dainsleif:

The burden of immortality sat heavily on Dainsleif’s shoulders. It was a curse he bore, but not one he would wish onto anyone else. It was painful, unkind, and often struck those who deserved it the least.

When you had found him, you were not originally aware of the fact that he had been among those who were affected by it. You knew he originated from Khaenri’ah, but you supposed he was like your old friend Kaeya, who was also from there, but was not a bearer of the curse.

Admittedly, it was difficult to be in relationship with Dainsleif at times because of it. He trusted you wholeheartedly, but there was always this lingering sense of doom in his eyes. There were times when he would get close with you, share his past and his deepest desires, but then he would pull away. It was a constant game of back and forth with him.

You were aware it was because he was scared, terrified even. Dainsleif had lived a long life of loss and sadness. He had failed in his duties as the Twilight Sword and, because of that, he was forced to witness the death and destruction of everyone and everything he loved around him. Anyone he had ever loved he had lost, and he couldn’t stand to watch that happen to you too.

You couldn’t bear it equally as much. Dainsleif was the best person to ever have come into your life. Someone you knew could never hurt you. Someone who showed you more love than anyone else ever had. Your love for each other was like no other. The only thing that could truly separate you from him would be death, and he would love you until that day came.

As painfully beautiful as that was, it saddened you to a degree that nothing else could. You did not want to lose him as much as he did not want to lose you. And so, you decided to lessen his punishment. Immortality was supposed to curse him with loneliness and suffering, but that loneliness wouldn’t exist if you were by his side for the rest of time.

You left as soon as possible, vision stored away in your satchel and a notebook in hand. It was your notebook that held your recipes. As a chef, there were all sorts of ingredients across Teyvat that you had to often import or travel to obtain. It was the perfect excuse to leave without him raising suspicion. Because, although Dainlsleif detested the Gods and Celestia, he would never let you do what you were about to do. Not for him, and not for anyone else. Not even for yourself.

It took you about a week to return.

Dainsleif noticed instantly something was different when you returned. It was a little past midnight. He was sitting at the table of your home, window open to his left to let the cool breeze sift through the house. He had been scribbling away at a map when the door walked open, and in walked you.

There were dark circles around your eyes, a conflicting look swirling within them. Part of you looked relieved, while the other part looked saddened. His eyebrows furrowed as you stumbled in through the doorway, whispering a small greeting to him. Quickly, he was by your side and hugging you dearly.

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly, voice just barely above a whisper. You leaned against him, head tucked gently into his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his abdomen. Silently, you nodded.

Dainsleif carefully brought you to the couch in the living room, sitting you down gently and setting your belongings on the small table in front of you. The breeze from the window drafted through again, strong enough to make you shiver. In an instant, Dainsleif was up and moving to shut it quickly so you could be warm and comfortable.

“Something’s wrong,” he started, hand moving to cup your face as you gazed into his eyes tiredly, “I know you aren’t just tired. So please, tell me what happened on your trip.”

You crumbled in an instant, unable to lie to his face, “I traded my vision. I’m sorry, I wasn’t actually going to get ingredients.”

Confusion settled even deeper into his blood as he stared at you, unable to comprehend what you were talking about, “Trade your vision for…what? Why would you need to trade your…oh.”

When he realized, you nodded carefully. The silence that followed suit scared you. You often had a hard time reading him, especially now.

His next reaction shocked you, however. Tiny traces of tears sprung to his eyes, threatening to pour over at any second. Your eyebrows furrowed, but before you could say anything, Dainsleif quickly leaned in and kissed you. Your eyes closed and you returned it, feeling the sadness, desperation, and love behind it. When he pulled away, you could see two or three tears had fallen from his eyes.

Gently, you wiped them away and hugged him tightly. He held you tightly in return, and silently, you both laid back against the couch. Exhaustion hit the two of you at once, knocking you out as you slept within each other’s arms. You had been exhausted from your trip and all the emotions you had felt from it. As for Dainsleif, his exhaustion from being cursed had eased up a bit on him. It him all at once, the realization and the lack of loneliness or worries he would have to deal with from now on. There was no more till death due you part, because finally, Dainsleif had you for forever and you had him.

[daydreaming-away-reality]

One Step Back

Jack Frost x Reader | ☁️ + ☔ + 🌠 | 7.7k | Grim Reaper!Reader

Warning: mentions of death, lots of angst

You quietly sat there, staring at the chess pieces deep in thought. The occasional breeze caused the slight creaking noises from the metal décor in the dimly lit space.

Something about the silence brought you a sense of a comfort. Compared to the cries of despair that had recently filled your ears, sitting in front of a very slow strategy game was something you preferred.

“Going to just stare at the pieces all day?”

The deep voice caused you to look up at the yellow coloured eyes that pierced into your own (E/C) eyes, you merely shrugged.

“Perhaps.”

“Not all of us have time to spare,” he responded.

“Time is irrelevant when you’re immortal,” you commented. You rested your chin on your palm as you looked straight into his eyes. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have the time.”

Pitch let out a hum of acknowledgement but made no further comment. As your chess partner, you knew he had grown use to your slow pacing. What you lacked in speed made up for in strategy though - it was enough to keep you and Pitch to play chess ever since the two of you had met. 

Sliding a piece across the board, you let out your breath as you leaned back in your chair. 

“Good game,” you softly said.

Pitch frowned as he leaned forward to check your move. As the results dawned on him, he gave a small nod.

“Good game,” he echoed.

The King of Nightmares turned his attention to you, looking at you as if he were trying to figure something out. 

“Something on your mind?”

Your constant poker face was a difficult expression to read, but somehow Pitch had a way of telling when there was something on your mind. As a grim reaper, your life was pretty monotonous. You learn about the next soul put under your care and you bring them to the afterlife when the time comes. When that was done, the cycle would repeat itself.

From serial killers to the rare newborn infant, you had seen souls at every stage of their life leave this world. 

You lived your life among humans, even though you had not been human for the past couple hundred years. Many people who lived around you didn’t see you unless you chose to be seen, letting you live your peaceful life of solitude easier. 

After having this role for so many years, you thought that things would get easier. To live with humans, watch them experience grief and pain.

From the few social gatherings with other grim reapers you had attended, you had soon realized you were softer than the others. Your job records were beautiful, but something always stuck with you.

It wasn’t easy experiencing death all the time.

It never got easier.

While this was a common experience for many new grim reapers that would eventually be accustomed, you still found yourself struggling sometimes.

“You’re too kind, (Y/N). All we need to do is make sure their soul moves on. We’re not doing anything bad.”

Even though all of that was true, the fear in the eyes of some people you were assigned to made you wonder how terrifying you were. What you resembled clearly brought a myriad of emotions, but fear was the most common one. 

“Nothing new,” you finally replied. 

Pitch gave you a look of inquiry but didn’t push any further.

He stood up, walking over to the globe in his lair. Little lights glittered across the world, showing the children of the world who believed in the Guardians.

“If the balance of the world were to change, would you be on my side?” Pitch asked.

Tilting your head, you let his words simmer in your head. 

You had never met any of the Guardians, but you recognized their role in the world. From knowing Pitch, you also knew he had a role to play in the world as well. While some saw fear as a bad thing, you recognized that some people grew stronger from their fears. Not everyone, but some rare cases.

Having heard about the last time Pitch had challenged the Guardians and failed, you knew there was bad blood between the Guardians and the Boogeyman.

If you had a to pick a side though...

You knew your role was one that would be forever bound to your duties. Wars could be fought and whatever decision you made would be insignificant.

“Death takes no sides, Pitch,” you answered with resolve. “So, I would not choose a side either.”

“Is that so?”

Even though he didn’t turn around to look at you, you gave him an uncertain small nod. Some things were inevitable, whether you desired so or not.

Sitting down on your couch and peering out the window with a warm cup of tea in your hand, you watched the rain pour down from the sky. Snuggled into your blankets, you listened to the pattering of raindrops against the glass.

Today was one of those dreary days - one that brought out sad emotions among people. The kind of day that had people mourning their lost ones.

Luckily for you, you had the day off. Or at least, you thought you could afford the day off. 

A letter appeared on the coffee table before you brought a sigh to your lips.

Setting your cup down, you lifted the letter up carefully and checked the name. 

Amber Miller.

Carefully inscribed under the name were the date of when they were born and the death.

Noting the death date, you paused. Doing some quick calculations, you realized that Amber was still young - a child. A frown appeared on your face as you stared at the simple card. 

Most of the time, you received names of those who experienced life longer than this. Chewing on your lip, you wondered if it was a good idea to go check in on this young girl now. Usually you appeared a few days before their death to see if you should make contact with the person, but with younger ones... You tried to spend more time with them so they wouldn’t be scared when time came for them.

When your eyes flickered back to the world outside your window, you noticed the rain had become little snowflakes dancing their way around the sky. 

Weather permitting or not, perhaps it would be good to step out of your house to do a check in. Amber had a week to live.

Pulling on your closet open, you stared at the various dark coloured pieces of clothing staring back at you. Like other grim reapers, your clothing mostly consisted of black, to be respectful to the dead, to not draw attention to yourself and follow the policies in place for grim reapers.

Slipping into a simple black knit sweater and skirt, you made yourself presentable. Finishing off the look with some boots, you grabbed a jacket just in case. Having gone through the process of getting ready to meet your next assignment so many times before, you weren’t too concerned.

Taking a deep breath, you opened your bedroom door and walked out of the bus shelter. The power to transport yourself through doors was one that all grim reapers had. No one around you noticed you, making everything go smoothly.

Following your instincts, you walked towards the nearby hospital. Walking past the receptionists and other patients, you immediately recognized the young brunette who was pressed up against the glass staring at the snow in awe.

Something about her soul seemed familiar to you, but you weren’t sure why. 

She was dressed in the typical patient attire with a paper wristband on, confirming your suspicions around why you were here. Amber was sick.

Walking over until you were standing next to her, you turned to watch the snow with her.

“I wish I could go outside and feel the snow,” she commented.

With no one else around, you decided to check your suspicions. 

“Would you like to step outside with me for a bit?” you asked quietly.

Amber’s brown eyes looked up at you with excitement. “Really?”

You nodded, offering your hand out to her. “Really, we’ll only be out for a moment, so nobody will even notice we’re gone.”

The enthusiastic nod and hand now in yours confirmed things. She could see you. While most grim reapers didn’t like showing themselves before it was time, the fear of growing emotional attachments was common, you made the effort.

“I’m Amber. What’s your name?”

“I’m (Y/N). Nice to meet you.”

Walking down a quieter hallway, you lead the two of you towards the small outdoor space on the side of this hospital wing. No one would step out in this weather, so it’d make it easier for the two of you. Taking Amber outside, you shrugged off your jacket and slipped it around her shoulders the moment you two were outside.

“Will you be cold?” she asked, eyes wide as she slipped her arms into the sleeves.

You shook your head. “I’ll be okay.”

The oversized jacket on her made you smile as she excitedly tried to catch snowflakes on her tongue. The sight of someone who was still so hopeful towards life, you could feel a deep sense of sadness within you. As you looked up at the sky, the sound of another voice surprised you.

“You don’t look dressed for the winter weather.”

Attention immediately moving towards the source, you found yourself staring at a boy with beautiful blue eyes and silvery white hair. An amused quirk of a smile graced his lips as he held onto a wooden staff in his hands.

“Jack!” Amber excitedly called out as she threw herself his way. “You made it snow!”

“Ahaha, I did. I’m glad you have the chance to step outside to see it today.” Jack responded, ruffling her hair.

Your brain raced to figure out an explanation for what was happening. Amber called this newcomer Jack and associated him with the snow. Somehow this sounded familiar. As your brain tried to make a connection between the information you just received with what you knew, Jack turned his attention to you once more.

He looked you over, taking in your black attire. 

“Who this with you, Amber?”

You straightened up. “I’m (Y/N).”

“Oh, so you can see me,” Jack said with a surprised tone. He held out his hand to you. “Nice to meet you.”

You hesitated but shook his hand.

Sensing something happening inside the hospital, you pushed the door back open. “I think we should head back inside, Amber. Make sure no one noticed us sneaking away.”

“Oh, okay!” The brunette jumped up and hurried to your side. She turned around to wave at Jack. “Bye Jack!”

You looked at Jack once more, information finally clicking in place.

Jack Frost - the Guardian of Fun. 

Ducking your head, you let the door shut behind you before escorting Amber back to her room. The energetic girl was about to pull off your jacket, but you stopped her.

“Keep it,” you encouraged. “It looks better on you than it does on me.”

“Thank you!” she responded gleefully. As she sat down on her bed, she looked up at you.

“Is there anything you want to do this week, Amber?” you asked, sitting down next to her.

The young girl thought about your words and responded with a small shrug.

“I’m not sure.” Her honest words brought a small smile to your face. “Will I see you again, (Y/N)?”

You nodded. “I’ll come by and visit again tomorrow, how does that sound?”

Amber nodded. “Okay.”

Getting up, you gently pet her head. “Be a good girl for the nurses, okay?”

“I always am!”

You smiled. Slipping out of the room, you glanced back once before moving to leave the hospital.

As you stepped out of the hospital, you weren’t paying attention to the person rushing towards the doors and didn’t have any time to react. Shutting your eyes, you felt a breeze as they ran through you.

It was moments like these when you were reminded of your place in the world.

Not alive but living as if you were.

Just as you walked away from the hospital, a cool breeze ruffled your hair and someone fell into step beside you.

“So you’re a spirit as well,” Jack commented.

You looked at him. “Is... there something I can help you with?”

Surprised by your question, Jack shook his head.

“No, it’s just, we haven’t met before and I was curious about you.”

Stopping in your tracks, you turned to face him. Eyes shifting to meet his, you could see the confusion on his face.

“I’m a grim reaper.”

This new information startled him. 

Walking away, you spotted the same bus shelter and headed towards it. Having met Amber now, you had a lot on your thoughts and wanted to go home. It took a moment, but you heard Jack hurrying to catch up to you.

“Really?”

“Most people don’t want to interact with me when they know that,” you said, stopping by the bus shelter door.

“Well, you’re the first grim reaper I’ve met,” Jack responded. He paused and his voice dropped to a whisper. “Amber... there’s a reason you’re visiting her, isn’t there?”

You nodded. 

Hoping to end the conversation there, you pulled open the bus shelter door and stepped through. 

“Wait - !”

As you appeared back in your own house, Jack appeared from behind, coming through the same door you had.

The surprise the two of you shared came from very different reasons. 

You had no idea anyone could follow you through the doors. Meanwhile, Jack had no idea where you had transported the two of you to. 

“Where are we...?” Jack asked, speaking up first.

“Home. My home,” you clarified as you pulled your boots off and put them aside. Letting out a sigh, you sat down on your couch before deciding to address Jack. “Amber has one week left - I don’t plan on taking her until her time ends.”

“Why did you visit her today then?” Jack moved to sit on the armchair perpendicular to you. His tone was genuine - encouraging you to speak.

You curled up, wrapping your arms around your legs. Trying to make yourself smaller, you tried your best to pull your words together. “Life’s... not fair and death doesn’t discriminate. She’s so young... I want to make sure her last days go well at least.”

There was a blanket of silence that fell over you two. As Jack took in your words, you blankly stared at the envelope that rested on your coffee table. With how many letters you had received over the years, you had lost track of how many cases you had dealt with. 

“Maybe I can help?”

Jack’s offer caused you to look up. 

“I’m not sure what I can do, but I want to try to help,” Jack elaborated. 

“That’s nice of you, but... are you sure?” You could tell he had good intentions behind his words but you knew the choice he was making was one with difficulties that he wouldn’t realize until the pain weighed down on him. 

You were too familiar with that feeling to wish it upon anyone.

Death took a toll not only on the person who experienced it, but everyone around them as well. 

The confused look on Jack’s face indicated that he didn’t know about these effects.

“Losing someone isn’t easy,” you explained. “Do you really want to put yourself through that kind of pain?”

Your words seemed to reach him in some way as Jack’s shoulders slumped and he looked down at the ground. His silence filled the air, and you didn’t know what to do or say. 

“I know, I’ve lost people in my life before,” Jack softly responded, his words coming out slowly as he formulated his thoughts. You could tell what he experienced weighed down on him. 

It made you wonder if he had what it took to be grim reaper.

Honestly, you weren’t sure you were cut out for this line of work either. Yet here you were, a couple hundred years in and still going with no end in sight. 

“If I can do something about it and make a difference, I think it’s worth the pain.” 

His optimistic answer had you turning your gaze back outside to watching the snow fall outside the window.

“If that’s what you wish, I cannot stop you.”

“I look forward to working with you then, (Y/N).”

When you had tried to sleep that night, the sound of crying from your past kept you up.

“Time to go,” you softly urged the crying soul. 

They looked up at you, tears still streaming down their face. In the brief moments of realizing their own death, they still carried the burdens of life they experienced.

“There were still things I wanted to do. It isn’t fair,” they wailed. “Can’t I.... Can’t you do anything about it?”

Regrets. 

Almost every soul had them.

You waited. It was difficult to communicate with anyone when they were this emotional. Once the crying had been reduced to sniffles, you finally responded.

You shook your head, looking over at the unfortunate accident that left them lifeless. “You are no longer part of this world, don’t worry about things like that.”

“A little more time... I wish I had a little more time to do the things I wanted to do...”

The clear skies above held promise of a good day ahead. You stifled back a yawn as you made your way to the hospital. Restless nights were common but it never affected your work.

Once you arrived, you paused by the reception. When the receptionist looked up, their eyes met yours.

“I’m here to visit Amber Miller,” you said. “I’ll be taking her out a bit.”

"Alright,” the receptionist spoke in a trance. There was a cloudy look to their eyes. 

When you turned away, you could hear them resuming to their work as if the encounter between the two of you never happened. 

Walking into Amber’s room, you could see her face light up when she saw you.

“(Y/N)!”

“Hi Amber,” you greeted. “You ready to go?”

She bobbed her head enthusiastically. After you reminded her to dress for the weather, she quickly bundled up before standing in front of you. 

Taking her hand, the two of you walked through the hallways unnoticed and made your way outside.

A figure showed up with a chilly gust before the two of you.

“Jack!” Amber exclaimed.

“Sorry for running late,” Jack said with a smile. His blue eyes flickered over to yours, trying to get a read of your placid expression but unable to do so. He turned back to Amber. “The snow is perfect for building snowmen, you up for it?”

“Yeah!”

“Let’s go then.” You acknowledged Jack. With him leading the way, your (E/C) eyes wandered back, noticing another grim reaper leading a soul away. 

Hospitals were always a busy place for grim reapers. 

“Here we are!” Jack cheered as you all arrived an untouched patch of snow. “The perfect spot, if I do say so myself.”

“(Y/N),” Amber said with a tug on your hand. “Can you help me build a snow bear?”

“A snow bear?” you asked, a smile on your face. “It’s been a while since I’ve built anything in the snow, but sure!”

“Yay! Let’s build a super big one! You and Jack are in charge of the head then.”

You exchanged a look with Jack as Amber scurried off to start her snowball. 

“You heard her,” you said, tilting your head at Amber. Pulling out gloves from your pocket, you slipped them on. “I’m going to need your expert help if we’re going to make this the best snow bear.”

“Alright, let’s do this.” 

After letting Jack start off the snowball (he had made the bold claim that yours wasn’t good enough and that was thrown at him with a feigned cry of offense), the two of you worked together in creating a head for Amber’s snow bear.

With a lot of playing in the snow between you, Jack and Amber, the day passed by quickly. Letting Jack do the heavy lifting, the snow bear was nearing its completion. 

Watching Amber giddily bounce around the two of you, you couldn’t help but smile. 

“We’re still missing the face,” you commented.

“I got it!” Amber exclaimed, holding out some rocks. 

You crouched down and held your arms out to Amber. Her eyes lit up when she realized what you were offering. Moving into your arms, you lifted her up so she could have a better reach of adding the face to her snow bear. 

As she added the final touches, your (E/C) eyes met a pair of blue ones. Jack had moved to stand next to you without you noticing. While it had not startled, you were suddenly aware of how things were feeling like an intimate family moment.

“Ta-da!” Amber cheered as she put on the final rock.

You and Jack let out some cheers as well. Considering the fact that you had never made a snow bear before, this one was pretty cute. 

“Looks amazing.” Jack commented.

You nodded in agreement. “It does. Great work, Amber.”

Amber turned so she could look at the two of you. “Thanks for helping!”

“Nah, you did most of the work,” Jack modestly said.

Noticing rosy cheeks, you bopped Amber’s nose. “You look like you’re getting cold.” Before the girl could protest, you offered her a smile. “Shall we grab some hot cocoa and head back?”

Your proposition immediately brought a bright smile to her face.

It was moments like these that you weren’t sure whether or not that you should be happy or sad. 

Almost as if he sensed your uncertainty, Jack clapped his hands. 

“Let’s go.”

“(Y/N)! Jack!” 

Amber’s delighted cheer greeted the two of you as you arrived the next day. 

“Hi Amber,” you greeted. 

“Hey,” Jack chimed in.

Amber climbed out of her bed and gave you both a bright smile. “Are we going to do something fun again today?”

You nodded. “Can you go get ready? There’s somewhere cool that I want to show you today.”

She excitedly nodded and hurried around the room to get ready. 

Meanwhile, you turned to look at the winter spirit standing next to you.

“Did you know I was coming now?” you teasingly asked Jack. “I don’t remember telling you when I was coming by again today.”

Jack gave you a charming smile. “I had a feeling. Looks like I was right though.”

He took the time to look around the room, but he found himself watching you in the end. Adorned in all black again, Jack still thought that there was certain aura about you that made you less scary and more caring. He wouldn’t have pinned you as a grim reaper with your personality. 

“What are the plans for today?” Jack asked, lowering his voice so Amber wouldn’t hear.

You pretended to zip your lips. 

“Aw, no hint at all?”

You laughed. “I can give you one hint.” 

Walking over to Amber’s bed, you straightened up a few of her animal plushies and gave a pointed look to Jack.

“That’s all you’re getting.”

Jack made a face at you. “You’re terrible at giving hints. That could mean so many things.”

You playfully stuck your tongue out at him.

“I’m ready!” Amber called out, pulling on an oversized black jacket. 

“Let’s go then,” you said. 

As you went to open the door and lead your trio out on a trip, Jack took a moment to chat with Amber. 

“The jacket looks a little big on you,” he commented.

Amber nodded. “It’s from (Y/N)! She let me have it.”

Jack let out a hum of understanding as he walked beside Amber towards the door. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of appreciation towards you, even if he wasn’t the one who was receiving the kindness from you. 

You were someone special, Jack could feel it.

Once you all went through the door, Amber let out a squeal when she realized where you all had been transported to. There were animals and families everywhere, the air filled with chatter of all the living beings. 

“I know you like animals, so I brought you to a petting zoo,” you explained to Amber. Your (E/C) eyes noticed the bright smile on Jack’s face as well. Looks like the Guardian of Fun approved of this trip. “Ready to meet some animals?”

Amber clapped her hands happily. “Ready!”  

Taking the time to see all the animals, you heard Jack chuckle when you guys approached the bunny enclosure. When he noticed your curious gaze, Jack smiled.

“They remind me of a certain spirit I know,” he explained.

“The Easter Bunny?” you guessed.

“Yeah, although, he seems more kangaroo than bunny sometimes.”

You giggled at his comment. “I would love to see him one day.”

“You’ve never seen him?” Jack asked, surprised.

“You don’t get to meet many other spirits in my line of work.”

“Ah.”

You waved your hand to brush off his comment. Sometimes, as much as you felt alive and hopeful, deep down you knew that being a grim reaper was part of who you were now. Getting to spend time like this with others and Jack... you would cherish this. 

After you dropped Amber back off at the hospital and had her settled back down, you and Jack lingered around for a bit. Amber had been so happy today, it was hard to believe that this little girl only had a numbered amount of days left to live. 

You turned to Jack to say something, but the sound of approaching voices made you stop. You thought about leaving, but something kept you in place. One of the voices belonged to Amber’s nurse. The others... sounds familiar.

“She’s been fine lately.”

“Is there a chance her condition will improve?”

“The chance of that happening is rare - young patients like her in our long term care unit with her conditions...”

You completely tuned out the nurse when the sight of a tired looking couple walked towards you and Jack. Looking at the couple intensely, you then turned back to catch a glimpse of Amber. 

That feeling from before. 

The familiarity of Amber’s soul.

Everything seems to click for you when you saw her parents. You’ve seen them before.

“(Y/N)?” Jack called out to you as you stepped back in almost a retreating manner.

“I...” 

The memory of a blank letter page held in your hands brought you a sense of uncertainty.

“I should go,” you decided. “Thank you for spending the time with me and Amber today, Jack.”

With that, you turned and disappeared through a door before the Guardian of Fun could do anything to decipher your stranger behaviour.

When you got back home, a memory from a few years ago vividly resurfaced. 

Having just finished delivering one soul, you had found another letter waiting for you to deal with. Work had been relentless for you for the last few days. While there was always work to do, this week in particular had been non stop work.

After glancing at the name in the letter, you turned back around to deal with the soul left in your care. 

They were expected to leave today. 

Finding yourself in the hospital, you let out a sigh as you looked around. Your eyes paused as you looked at the couple, presumably the parents of the soul you were here to take. They sat outside the operation room and looked anxious. 

Understandable. 

You moved on, moving closer to the operation room. Sounds of the doctors and nurses working relentlessly, trying their best to help the young girl in the room reached your ears. You could sense her soul hanging onto life.

Human life in situations like this always felt so fragile.

The heartbeat monitor let out a shrill noise and the energy in the room grew frantic. Although you were supposed to get ready to seek out the soul you were here for, something felt off. 

There was an unshakable feeling that something wasn’t right. 

Pulling out the letter, you checked it once more.

Only to find the page blank.

Your (E/C) eyes narrowed as you flipped the page over to make sure you weren’t seeing things. 

Still blank.

Listening carefully once more, you could hear the regular beeping of the heartbeat monitor again. 

A miracle. 

It was extremely rare, but sometimes the letters were wrong if something miraculous happened and the soul was not ready to leave. 

This meant more paperwork for you to do, but the girl would live for now.

Turning away from the operation room, you left.

The girl that you had originally meant take a few years ago.

Fate had you back again for your unfinished work.

You took a few hours to let yourself process the new found information and rest but then pushed yourself to get back to it.

If Amber only had a limited amount of time, you wanted to have her spend days well. Seeing her again the next day without Jack, you had brought her to the hospital cafeteria and let her enjoy her favourite foods.

Perhaps it was because of your strange visiting hours, but you tried not to bump into Jack. Sure, he was understanding the first time you when you explained your line of work to him. But what if he found out that you were here a second time for this young girl? What would he think then? Would he still want to hang around you? He would probably be like everyone else and believe that you were the indirect cause to her death.

Regardless, from what you heard from Amber, Jack still made the time to visit despite you not being there.

It only took another day or two before you started noticing the signs of fear and worry from Amber.

“(Y/N)?” Amber called out to you as the two of you sat by the window in her room. You turned to look at her, watching her wide eyes stare at you as she clutched her stuffed toy tightly. “I’m scared.”

“What’s scaring you?” you asked quietly. 

“Mommy and daddy seemed worried... a lot more than usual.” The sadness in the young girl’s voice broke your heart. “They keep talking to the nurses and doctors... I think they know something about me that’s making them sad.”

You let her words sink in as you tried to find the right words to say to comfort her.

“Adults are always worried about things. Amber, it’s okay to feel the way you feel, but I hope you remember that you can also make your parents the happiest.”

Later that night, Amber had fallen asleep listening to a story you were telling her. As you stood nearby watching her sleep, you couldn’t believe how fast time was moving by. 

There wasn’t much time left now.

It was like an unspoken truth that everyone including Amber seemed to know.

“I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”

The deep voice startled you. 

Coming out from the shadows of the room was Pitch, his eyes gleaming on the little light that came from the night light in the room. 

“Pitch,” you greeted. “What are you doing here?”

“I sensed fear,” Pitch responded, moving closer to the bed. He looked at Amber, then his eyes flickered back to you. “I’m sure you sense it too.”

You nodded. Pitch knew your profession, he would know exactly why you were here. 

Although the two of you had not played chess in a while due to his choice in actions, the strange relationship between the two of you still existed. Neither of you would cease to exist as you were both immortal.

“Her nightmares would be powerful,” Pitch commented.

You immediately frowned and defensively moved towards him. “No.”

“Do you intend to stop me?” 

“For her, I’d do anything to stop you right now.”

Pitch stepped back, then took a few steps around the room. “I thought you said you wouldn’t take sides.” He moved closer to you, fingers touching your chin and tilting your head back to stare into your (E/C) eyes. “What is happening now, little miss grim reaper?”

The door to the room opened slightly and someone slipped in. 

Turning to see who it was, you immediately froze.

“Pitch! And... (Y/N)?”

Jack looked at the two of you with a mix of emotions. It was clear enough that he was in disbelief though.

“Ah, the Guardian of Fun,” snarled Pitch. “Did you come here to play?”

Hearing this, Jack immediately raised his staff and pointed it at Pitch. It wavered though, when he realized how close to Pitch you were.

Regardless, it didn’t stop the rough tone of his voice when he directed his words to you.

“(Y/N), you know Pitch?”

“Know me? Of course she does,” Pitch responded. “We’ve known each other for hundreds of years.”

Jack’s eyes questioned you, waiting for your response. 

You didn’t want to lie, but the truth was probably one he didn’t want to hear.

“We’ve known each other for a long time,” you acknowledged. 

Betrayal flickered on Jack’s face and Pitch seemed to notice that. 

“Ah, I see you must of have met (Y/N) just recently,” Pitch commented. He moved towards Jack despite the staff being point his way. “Death and fear, what a combination, am I right?”

“Leave. Now.” Jack demanded.

The sound of frost crackling on the windows seemed to remind Pitch that he wasn’t as strong as the Guardian before him. His yellow eyes met yours and he could tell that he had no advantage here. 

Wordlessly, he disappeared back into the shadows, leaving you and Jack behind.

“Jack - “

“You should leave too,” Jack coldly said. “I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”

His words hurt. But you knew that now wasn’t the time to explain yourself. The enemy he had fought a few years ago with a girl he met only days ago who was a grim reaper. Even you knew it was a strange sight. You didn’t owe Jack any explanation, but you wanted to explain things to him later on. 

Ducking your head, you moved around him towards the door. 

“She only has two days left,” you said as you reached the door. “I will be back, whether you like it or not. I have a job to do.”

With that, you opened the door and went through.

Amber’s condition was getting worse. 

When you had the chance, you would pop by and check up on her. At this stage, you could not take her out to go out and play anymore. But you made the effort to bring her surprises and chat with her.

Time was running out.

You still had a job to do.

During those next two days, you didn’t see Jack at all. After the encounter with him and Pitch, you weren’t sure what more you could say to the Guardian of Fun. You had told him almost every from the beginning. 

What did he expect? 

Hopefully, he would have taken some time to realize that death did not take sides. It was simply a part of life. To live and to die. The chance of you taking sides with Pitch was never going to be a reality.

Regardless, you tried not to bump into him if you could. 

It seemed like the two of you needed space.

But that evening of the second day, you had a strong feeling that things were drawing to a close and you stuck around. If Jack showed up, then so be it. 

He wasn’t going to stop you from doing your job.

He couldn’t, even if he tried.

“(Y/N)?”

You turned look at Amber, reaching out to hold her outstretched hand. 

“Are you and Jack fighting?” she asked. “How come you two don’t visit me together?”

You gave her a bitter smile. Children. They always sensed when things were different much sooner than adults. They caught onto emotions so easily. They were always the most innocent when it came to death. 

Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, you pat her head.

“We just had a misunderstanding, Amber.”

“Do you need to talk to him?”

“I probably should.”

Amber pointed to the space behind you. “Maybe you should talk to him now then.”

Turning, you spotted the Guardian of Fun. His blue hoodie pulled up as he stood there, leaning against the wall and watching the two of you. You weren’t sure how long he had been there, but you knew Amber had a point. 

It was now or never.

If you let this chance pass you by, you might let this misunderstanding stay between the two of you forever.

The sound of voices outside in the hallways made you tilt your head slightly, trying to better listen to who it was. Recognizing them as the doctors and Amber’s parents, you knew this was your best chance to step aside.

“Yeah, I’ll go do that.” You leaned in closer to Amber. “Make sure you take the time now to say what you want to mom and dad, okay?”

“I’m running out of time, aren’t I?” Amber asked, voice quivering.

You hesitated, but only for a moment. Every part of you knew that these would be her last moments. She deserved to know.

“I’m sorry,” you softly whispered back. “I’ll be here to guide you when it is time though, okay?”

Amber nodded. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

She opened her arms out to you for a hug. While you were holding onto her embrace, you felt another set of arms wrap around the two of you. The cool presence you recognized had to belong to the only other spirit in the room. 

Once the group hug was done, Amber shooed you and Jack out to talk just as her parents made their way inside her room.

“Let’s go this way,” you said, leading the way to a quieter hallway. Jack silently followed behind you.

Standing in the empty hallway, you and Jack stood there for a moment before you knew you had say something.

“Do you really think Pitch and I had something between us?” you asked, gauging for a reaction.

“It sounds like the two of you have known each other for a long time,” Jack pointed out. 

“We have,” you agreed. “We play chess together sometimes. But that’s about it.”

“You never told me.”

“You never asked.”

Jack paused, but could only nod his head. “Fair enough.”

You fidgeted with the bracelet on your wrist as you gathered your thoughts. You didn’t need to tell Jack everything, but you felt like you should. You had grown to care and perhaps even like the Guardian of Fun, you didn’t want to lose him over something that felt as trivial as this.

“Not many people would ever befriend a grim reaper,” you explained, voice quiet. “It’s a lonely existence. Even among other grim reapers, its hard to fit in when I carry the weight of every soul I take like someone who was turned recently when I’m one of the most experienced reapers out there. Most of the other grim reapers have grown numb to the task, but that’s something I just can’t do.”

“(Y/N)…” Jack reached out to you.

When his fingers brushed up against your cheek, you looked up at him and Jack could see your glassy (E/C) eyes. You carried a lot more than what you were willing to show. 

“Death takes no sides,” you recited. “What Pitch was implying... Its not something that could ever happen.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack said, pulling his hood down and taking a step closer to you. “I...”

Before he could finish forming his thought, there was a commotion from the direction of Amber’s room. 

You knew immediately what was happening having experienced it so many times before. It never got any easier. Wiping at the unfallen tears in your eyes, you straightened up and brushed your clothes down with your hands. Hopefully you looked presentable enough.

“It’s Amber, isn’t it?” Jack asked, worry evident on his face. 

“It’s time,” you murmured just loud enough for him to catch. 

Walking towards the room, you stood a short distance away from the door. Jack had followed you, hovering nearby. He reminded you of the new grim reapers that you mentored a long time ago. Nervous and scared. 

A light figure of a soul stepped out of the room. When her eyes caught sight of the two of you, a smile appeared on her face as she approached.

“(Y/N)! Jack! Did you get the chance to talk?” Amber asked.

You nodded, crouching down to her height. “We did. Did you get the chance to tell mom and dad everything?”

“Not everything...” Amber said, looking back at the room. The muffled sound of crying came from the closed door. “Do you think they know?”

“Of course,” Jack reassured her. He gently placed his hand on her shoulder. “Moms and dads always have a way to know what you can’t say.”

This brought a smile to Amber’s face. 

For someone who never had to experience this, Jack was doing fine. Seeing them interact made the bubble of sadness inside you grow. Now was not the time to show how you felt. You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out the letter. It fluttered out of your hand and landed on the door at the end of the hall. 

A light glow emitted from the other side of the closed door.

You held your hand out to Amber. “It’s time for us to go.”

“Bye, Jack,” Amber said as she took your hand. 

Jack gave her a small wave. “Bye, Amber.”

Giving Amber one last moment to linger, you led her towards the door. Like every child that you were responsible for, you hoped that if Amber had another chance at life, may she live a long, healthy and happy life.

Opening the door, you took a deep breath, looked down at the little girl you were with and stepped through it together.

The next few days were quiet for you luckily. After Amber, it was like the someone knew you needed time to recover and gave you a break.

You took the chance to hole up at home, hiding under blankets as you tried your best to manage your sadness. 

Your tears had dried up, your heart still felt heavy, but you were still here. 

Being a grim reaper was tough.

The sound of knocking on your front door was what dragged you off your couch. Cracking the door open, you were surprised to see a magical snow bunny dance in front of you before turning into a small shower of sparkling snowflakes.

“Surprised?” 

You turned to see Jack watching you from the side, casually leaning against his staff.

“Jack,” you said, looking at him. “How’d you find me?”

“I came by one time, remember?” Jack approached you. At the sight of your still swollen eyes from these last few days, his expression softened. “Mind if I come in?”

You nodded, letting him inside. 

Jack left his staff by your entrance, propped up against the wall.

He came into your place with a bit of familiarity, yet still looked around as if this were his first time here. His eyes settled on the pile of blankets on your couch. 

As you trailed after him, you were startled when he turned around and swept you into a hug. Despite being the bringer of winter and cold, Jack’s hug felt warm and comforting. His breath tickled your ears as he held you close.

“I’m not very good at saying the right things to comfort people,” he admitted softly. “Is this okay?”

You nodded, snuggling into his embrace. Your response drew a relieved sigh out of Jack as he pulled you in closer. He gently pet your hair as he let you hang onto the much needed comfort you needed the last few days. There were no more tears left inside of you to cry and having someone here for you was more than enough.

After some time, you shyly stepped back from Jack. He was reluctant to let you go though, hands still placed on your shoulders.

“Thank you. For being here with me.” You mull of your thoughts for a moment before ultimately deciding to voice them to the man in front of you. Meeting his eyes, you try your best to not let any emotions show in your words. “Jack, perhaps you shouldn’t spend any more time with me.”

Confusion settled on his face. “(Y/N)...”

“Being a grim reaper is like being surrounded by sadness and death. No spirits like interacting with us. Humans think we’re a bad omen. It just comes with the profession - we’re not meant to get attached to anyone.”

“That’s not true,” Jack gently protested. His hand caressed your cheek, causing heat to rise to your face as he looked down at you. “I see you, (Y/N). After everything we’ve been through this last while, I have a pretty good understanding of who you are. You can’t let your job define you.” 

He gazed into your eyes, checking for any signs of rebuttal or conflict. It was the glimmer of hope he saw from you that gave him the confidence. 

Jack leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Give yourself a chance,” he murmured as he leaned his forehead against yours. “And if you feel the same way as I do, give me a chance too.”

While his confession surprised you a little, you knew deep down, you had felt the same connection he was feeling.

Raising a hand, you touch Jack’s cheek. It felt as warm as how your own were feeling. 

“Okay,” you agreed. “As long as you help me along the way.”

“For you, anything.”

[dangermousie]

Two things I've been thinking about with regard to Fangs of Fortune (it's so rare for me not to move on immediately from a drama; usually no matter how much I like it, the moment it's done so am I.)

(1) The bells in Jiu and ZYC's hair. The way this is a theme that runs throughout the entire narrative to culminate in them being clutched in Jiu's hand as he saves the world. But also - Jiu wore those bells because he was afraid he'd never be found - that hide and seek metaphor. And yet when he was lost in his own body due LL taking over (and significantly it's shown through his being locked in his hiding place, unable to come out), the team keeps searching and willing to die (YL does die!) for him to be found and to be brought back. And then at the end, the bell he wore in his hair in hope of being found is in ZYC's hair forever and ever - Jiu removed the tongue of the bell as part of his belief he does not need to be searched for (his last wish was don't grieve me) but by putting it into his hair to always accompany him during all the years of his now close to immortal life, ZYC has transformed the message - the bell does not need the tongue any more because Jiu does not need to be looked for any more, sure. But the reason he does not need to be looked for any more is because he's always there now, always with the man he looked up to the most and found safety in. He is now always found.

(2) I am still in that moment in the epilogue where ZYZ's soul flies to ZYC's hands. I've talked a lot about that already but I can't stop. I love that the hopeful ending with its promise of future happiness and reunion is possible because ZYC took a look at the final, most awful iteration of the trolley problem (I can't remember who in the tag labeled a lot of their quests this way but you are 100% right!) and broke the constraints of the rules. Because finally in his long long life, ZYZ found someone as powerful and capable and good as he is, but also someone just a tad more persistent. Because ZYC is immovable in his quest to save those near to him to the best of his considerable ability and if he needs to bend the rules of reality and the drive of destiny, so be it. He will sacrifice himself without hesitation but those he loves are different.

Because ZYZ's salvation is an act of love - of ZYC's refusal to have ZYZ do the ultimate sacrifice of walking onto that sword. Thus actually making sure ZYZ is not a liar - he said he won't seek death and by taking the burden of killing him instead of making him kill himself - ZYC makes that statement ZYZ said true. (In a different religious tradition where suicide is a sin that sends you to hell but murder can perhaps be forgiven if sufficiently repented for, one could talk about how this action literally saves ZYZ's soul for heaven at the possible cost of ZYC. Yes, I realize medieval Catholic doctrine is inapplicable to this drama, but I like the different notions of salvation and sacrifice among cultures and how they can reflect different understandings and view of humanity and moral duty.)

It's very much because of censorship (which I of course loathe) that the nature of ZYZ x ZYC relationship has all these lacunae and unspoken spaces. Yes, we know they are soulmates/mirrors but there is room to interpret their relationship as - romantic, platonic, part of a throuple, something else. And I so genuinely admire the narrative for making a virtue of the censorship necessity and transforming the constraint into the message of lack of labels on love, into discussion on all forms of love - romantic, familial, friend, etc - being crucial and not waving the flag of sexual-romantic love supremacy. There is something so beautiful in the narrative going "they are each other's most important person and their love and devotion can literally bring back from the dead and save the world. And does the nature of that love even matter? What matters is the strength of it." Taking unfair, stupid restrictions and turning them into art is something else indeed.

[my-name-is-apollo]

Just a compilation I did when I was feeling a bit bored...Gods and goddesses who are called the most beautiful:

Hera:

"I sing of golden-throned Hera whom Rhea bare. Queen of the Immortals is she, surpassing all in beauty"

– Homeric Hymn to Hera (trans. Evelyn-White)

"Hera, his sister and his wife, the grandest far in beauty among the deathless goddesses - most glorious is she whom wily Cronos with her mother Rhea did beget"

– Homeric Hymn to Aphrodite (trans. Evelyn-White)

Apollo:

"Lord Phoibos, when the goddess, lady Leto, bore you, clasping a palm tree in her slender hands, you the most beautiful of immortals, beside the wheel-round lake"

– Theognis, Elegies (trans. Andrew Miller)

"Then a youth, his brows wreathed in chaste laurel, appeared in my dream to set foot in my home. No previous age of men saw anything more beautiful than he, nor was that a human work of art."

– Lygdamus, Elegies (trans. Robert Maltby)

Apollo and Artemis:

"And Leto was joined in love with Zeus who holds the aigis, and bare Apollon and Artemis delighting in arrows, children lovely above all the sons of Heaven."

– Hesiod, Theogony (trans. Evelyn-White)

[Poseidon to Delos]: "it will be your happiness to receive my brother's twin children, fairest of the Gods"

– Lucian, Dialogues Of The Sea-gods (trans. Henry Watson Fowler)

Hebe:

"[Herakles] whose bride Hebe, the most beautiful of the goddesses, walks forever in Olympus beside her mother Hera, goddess of marriage."

– Pindar, Nemean Ode 10 (trans. Diane Arnson Svarlien)

Dionysus:

"Thy youth is not consumed by wasting time; and lo, thou art an ever-youthful boy, most beautiful of all the Gods of Heaven"

– Ovid, Metamorphoses 4 (trans. Brookes More)

Nerites:

"And they say that he was named Nerites and was the most beautiful of men and gods"

– Aelian, On Animals (trans. Scholfield)

_

Not an exhaustive list, though. I've put in only the references I've come across.

[zapreportsblog]

❝HUSBAND❞

✭ PAIRING : Edward Cullen x Reader

✭ FANDOM : Twilight

✭ SUMMARY : When Edward proposed to Bella he expected her to accept after all they were mates? Right? Wrong! Bella rejected edwards proposal breaking his undead heart in the process, not being able to withstand the aftermath Edward leaves home; only to return 2 years later but this time he’s married?!

✭ AUTHORS NOTE : I already know there is a story on here called the same story with the same cover (on quotev at least) mines had been edited to a clearer form, (again on quotev) that was my old account, (marveluserlovesmarbel again on quotev was my old and very first account) one of my first actually. If I can remember the login information from it I’d log back in and post my stories from their over here but for now enjoy the remake of said story :)

✭ QUOTEV VERSION

✭ CHAPTER ONE : A Proposal in the Flower Field

The warm breeze danced through the lush, sun-kissed meadow, carrying the scent of wildflowers that blanketed the ground in a vibrant tapestry of colors. Edward, his face radiant with anticipation, gazed at Bella, whose 19th birthday was just around the corner. He had planned this moment for weeks, determined to make it the most memorable day of their immortal lives.

"Edward, this is beautiful," Bella said, her eyes shimmering with wonder as she took in the breathtaking scenery. She had no inkling of what was about to transpire.

Edward smiled, his golden eyes alight with love. He guided Bella to a secluded spot in the field, one they had visited countless times, a place filled with memories of their deepest conversations and stolen moments. It was here, among the swaying flowers, that he would make the most important request of his existence.

Bella's heart quickened as she realized the gravity of the moment. She turned to Edward, her breath catching in her throat. "What's going on, Edward?"

He took her hands, his voice trembling with emotion. "Bella, for over a century, I've existed in the shadows, my heart forever frozen in time. You, you're my light, my reason for being. Your love has given my life purpose, a warmth that I never thought possible."

Bella's eyes glistened, tears threatening to spill over. "Edward..."

He dropped to one knee, his hand reaching into his pocket to reveal a glistening diamond ring. "Bella Swan, you are the love of my existence. Will you do me the immeasurable honor of becoming my wife?"

Bella's heart soared as she gazed down at the ring, her eyes meeting Edward's, brimming with adoration. She had imagined this moment so many times, had dreamt of the day he'd ask her to be his forever.

But then, in a soft, trembling voice, she spoke the words that would shatter Edward's immortal heart. "I'm so sorry, Edward."

His golden eyes widened in disbelief, the world around him seeming to slow as he searched her face for understanding. "Bella, what is it? Is something wrong?"

Bella took a step back, her hands trembling. "Edward, you mean the world to me, but I can't say yes. I can't become a vampire, not at this moment in my life. I have so much I want to experience as a human, to grow old with my family. I hope you understand."

Edward remained frozen on one knee, his mind reeling, unable to comprehend the weight of her words. Bella turned and began to walk away, each step an agonizing echo of her decision. She didn't realize that with her 'no,' she'd shattered not just his proposal but his very heart.

Edward watched her silhouette grow smaller in the distance, the vibrant flowers around him now feeling like a painful reminder of his shattered dreams. He remained on one knee, in a heart-wrenching silence, his love for Bella eternal, his heart forever broken.

After what felt like an eternity of just kneeling in the flower field, Edward finally stood and rushed back home, a turbulent whirlwind of emotions swirling within him. Bursting into the house, he didn't utter a word, his face a mask of anguish. Carlisle and Esme, concerned by his disheveled appearance and the raw anguish in his eyes, attempted to get an explanation for his erratic behavior.

"What happened, Edward?" Carlisle asked, his voice tinged with worry.

Edward's eyes burned with anger and heartache. He scoffed bitterly and spat out the words, "She rejected me."

At first, Carlisle and Esme couldn't comprehend what he had just said. It seemed unfathomable that Bella, whom they'd come to love as their own, would refuse Edward's proposal. Edward's frustration boiled over, and he threw a lamp against the wall, shattering it into pieces. Tears of venom welled up in his eyes, and he uttered those devastating words again, but this time with a crestfallen expression, "She rejected me."

Esme rushed to his side, wrapping her arms around him, offering solace in the only way she knew how. Carlisle joined them on the bed, his gaze full of concern. 

Edward, his voice trembling with pain, explained how he had proposed to Bella in the flower field, how he had imagined a life of eternal love, but she had chosen a different path. He couldn't bear to be near her now, the pain too great to endure.

”I…I can’t stay here. Knowing that she’s here. Knowing that I’ll have to see her everyday for the rest of my life.”

Carlisle and Esme exchanged glances, understanding the depth of his despair. "Edward," Carlisle said softly, "you have a place in this home, wherever you choose to go."

Esme added, "You can always come back, and please, promise to call and check in every now and then."

Edward nodded, his gratitude evident in his eyes. With a heavy heart, he bid farewell to his siblings: Alice, Jasper, Emmett, and Rosalie. Each offered words of support and love as he prepared to depart on his journey, leaving behind a life he had hoped for with Bella. As he stepped out into the night, he knew that he carried with him the weight of a shattered dream and the support of his vampire family, who would always be there for him.

[coolestork]

Of Mortal Grace and Divine Devotion.

Lorgar Aurelian x Reader

-

Lorgar Aurelian had long believed that his purpose was to exalt the divine. He was the voice of faith, the messenger of the gods, a vessel through which the sacred flowed. But now, as he watched you move through the halls of his flagship, something stirred within him that no god had ever inspired.

-

It began as a whisper, a fleeting thought he could easily dismiss. You were human—mortal, fragile, a being destined to wither in the span of an eye blink compared to his eternal existence. And yet, something in your presence unsettled him. Perhaps it was the grace in your step, the quiet dignity with which you carried out your duties, oblivious to the grand destinies unfolding around you. Or perhaps it was the way you spoke, your voice soft but unwavering, commanding his attention in a way no mortal had before.

Lorgar had seen thousands, no, millions of human souls pass through his gaze. He had spoken to emperors and beggars alike, his words shaping their beliefs, their futures. But none had lingered in his thoughts the way you did. None had made his heart quicken with this... unholy longing.

And unholy it was, of that he had no doubt. He, the bearer of divine truth, the prophet of the Word, was now ensnared by a mere human. Worse, he found himself glorifying you in secret. You became, in his mind, a creature of rare beauty, a being not of flesh but of divinity—perfect, sacred, untouchable. He told himself it was wrong. He was a primarch, a god among men, and you were... mortal. But the more he fought it, the more you grew in his mind, a figure of reverence, an icon to be venerated.

-

In the stillness of his private quarters, Lorgar would let his thoughts run free, untethered by reason. His hands, which had once penned scriptures and crafted holy symbols, now traced your form in the air, committing to memory every detail he had seen, every expression that had crossed your face. He began to weave his own scripture around you, though he never wrote it down. In the depths of his mind, you became something sacred, something he could worship in secret.

He knew it was madness, but madness had always walked alongside faith.

Every time you spoke to him, whether in passing or when reporting to him directly, he felt himself pulled deeper into his obsession. It was blasphemy to desire you so intensely, and yet he could not stop. Your words echoed in his thoughts long after you had left, and your image haunted him in the spaces between prayer. The gods, he told himself, had sent you to test him, to see if he could resist this temptation. But the more he thought of it, the more he twisted that idea into something else. Perhaps you were divine. Perhaps you had been sent to him not as a test, but as a revelation.

-

Could he—should he—court you? The idea gnawed at him, growing stronger with each passing day. The rational part of him screamed against it. He was Lorgar Aurelian, a primarch, an immortal, the chosen one of the gods. To desire a human was beneath him. And yet, the faith in him, the part that glorified the divine in all things, whispered that this too was part of his destiny.

And so, he began to contemplate the unimaginable. What if you were meant to be his? What if the gods had woven your paths together, intending for this moment? It made sense, in a way only faith could make sense. You had been placed under his command, working closely, moving through his life like a subtle grace, unnoticed until it became overwhelming.

It was absurd. It was perfect.

-

The day he finally approached you, Lorgar felt the weight of a thousand thoughts pressing down upon him. His mind, usually sharp with theological debates and philosophical ruminations, was now clouded with uncertainty. As he stood before you, towering in his golden armor, he found himself, for perhaps the first time, unsure. How does a god confess his desire to a mortal?

His words, when they came, were halting, awkward in a way that did not suit him. "I... have watched you. For a long time." His voice, though rich and deep, faltered slightly. "There is something about you... something that stirs in me a reverence, a devotion I cannot explain."

-

You stood there, eyes wide, your breath caught in your throat. This was Lorgar Aurelian, the prophet of the Word, the one who spoke for gods—and now, he spoke to you, of you.

"I feel... as though you were sent to me," he continued, his words growing heavier with each syllable. "By the gods themselves. There is something divine in you. I have fought against this feeling, this... obsession. But I can fight it no longer."

He looked at you then, his amber eyes searching yours, seeking understanding, seeking... forgiveness. "You are mortal, and I am not. Yet... I wish for you to be more than what you are to me now. I wish for you to be mine."

Your heart raced. For a moment, the words hung in the air, unreal. The man you had admired from afar, whose very presence had always felt like standing in the light of something eternal, was now laying bare his own adoration for you. It was too much to process. But then, you found your voice, though it was soft, trembling with disbelief.

"I... I have always admired you," you whispered, unable to meet his gaze fully. "Since I first came under your command... I never thought... that you might feel the same."

The surprise in your voice startled him. You had always admired him? Lorgar, who had feared that his affections were one-sided, felt his faith shift, a new truth revealing itself. The gods had not only blessed him with this feeling, but they had ordained it, weaving the two of you together in ways neither of you had foreseen.

He bowed his head, the gesture heavy with both reverence and humility. "Then... perhaps, we are both meant to worship what lies between us."

-

For the first time in millennia, Lorgar felt the stirrings of something beyond divine purpose. It was something fragile, something mortal. And yet, as he looked at you, he knew it was sacred all the same.

-

AGHHHHHHHGHHH, I LOVE THE IDEA OF LORGAR FKING BEIGN A TROUBLED RELIGIOUS SIMP

this is the first of many fics to come, I'm afraid.

[sonofhelios2005]

Dead Boy Detectives AU, Redemption. Edwin and Charles are both genuinely good people who got dealt a bad hand but still try to do good. What if their lives took different turns?

Instead of taking Edwin to hell, Sa'al instead senses Edwin's potential for magic and offers him a deal, If Edwin becomes a witch and enters the service of hell, he would be spared any torture. Edwin, a terrified 16 year old facing a terrible fate, agrees. Edwin returns to his bed and pretends not to know what happened to Simon and the other boys. As part of his deal, Edwin begins studying magic and finds he has a genuine talent for it. He also enjoys the challenge that comes with trying to master spells. After a few years, Edwin realises he's immortal as he hasn't aged since he made his deal.

Over the next few years, Edwin occasionally gets orders from hell to place a curse on certain people or to summon demons to Earth. As the years pass, the acts he commits on behalf of the demons become worse. He kills or arranges deals between demons and mortals for their souls. Over the years, Edwin becomes detached from humanity, not particularly caring about his victims. His life wasn't fair. Why would anybodies be?. Then one day in the 1950 he crosses another witch who is far older and more powerful than him, she curses him to endure the suffering of anyone he had wronged, this lead to Edwin being comatose for a year before he wakes, now fully understanding what he's done Edwin is filled with remorse.

Edwin considers what to do, and eventually, he decides to try and help others. He uses his magic to cloak himself from hell. He then travels helping people when he can and takes special interest in banishing demons back to hell. He becomes well known as a powerful but dangerous individual who can be contacted for help with supernatural issues. He operates alone until he encounters Charles Rowland in 1989.

Charles, in this reality, was born in 1950. His dad hates him and is as viciously abusive as the show. Charles attended St. Hilarion's School for Boys until 1966, he stepped in to save a Pakistani boy from his friends only to become the target of their assault. However, instead of running into an attic to hide, Charles runs and is chased into the forest. In the forest is a group of vampires who are basically the British Lost Boys or BLB. The BLB kill everyone chasing Charles and are about to kill him until the leader sensing Charles's potential, offers a choice, die or become a vampire. Charles a terrified 16 year old accepts.

From here, Charles lives as a member of the BLB hunting and killing without remorse driven by the bloodlust of a vampire and the encouragement of the others. The BLB are outcasts among vampires as, despite their reputation, most vampires simply want to live their immortal lives in peace, unlike the BLB who cause chaos for the thrills. Charles enjoys the freedom that comes with being a vampire, and the BLB are more of a family to him than his own parents ever where. Charles grows into an incredibly powerful vampire who, along with his formidable physical prowess, also has numerous common and rare vampire abilities.

In early 1989, after 23 years of being a vampire, Charles unexpectedly encounters his aged father whilst he was out hunting. Seeing his father causes Charles to have an epiphany, he had always sworn to never be like Paul Rowland, but now he realises he is far worse. Charles horrified at own his actions over the last few decades begins pulling away from the BLB who noticed. Knowing the others would kill him if they knew he was going to leave Charles manages to fake his death and informs other vampires about the BLBs location. The BLB are banished from the UK, and Charles is left to his own devices. Charles spends the next several months lost in guilt and even contemplates ending his existence until he encounters a witch called Edwin Payne who had been looking for a base of operations in London and had walked into the abandoned building Charles was inhabiting. (The DBDA office)

The two begin talking, and Edwin seeing himself in Charles encourages him to begin helping others if he truly wants to make ammends. Charles starts helping Edwin in his jobs using his strength and near invulnerability to protect Edwin as he casts his magic. Soon, they become friends, neither having had true friendship for decades. Together, they are able to make a genuine difference and help many people, and after 30 years, start to believe they have started to find true redemption. In the 2020s, they are joined by a young psychic who they found abusing her powers to lie, cheat, steal, and even murder. Unfortunately, this is also when their pasts finally catch up with them, and they once again encounter hell and the BLB.

This won't actually be a story as I have no ability to write fanfiction. it's just my mad ramblings. I changed the year Charles was born because I thought it made sense if he did evil stuff for a long time, I also wanted him and Edwin to be together for the same amount of time as the show. Also, if Charles was born in the 50s, then he could be part of a vampire biker gang.

[dragon-kazansky]

When the raven calls

Morpheus x Female Reader

You, his raven, die protecting Jessamy while rescuing the Dream Lord. When Morpheus returns to his realm, he mourns your loss, only to find a stranger waiting for him in his throne room. The stranger claims to be you, now in human form. He doesn't understand, but his raven will always watch over him.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Eight - Friends through time

☆☆☆

1389

The first time Morpheus met Hob was a long, long time ago. Dream had longer hair back then. You had been there too, just not inside the tavern.

No, you had to wait outside. You waited on a wall, muttering to yourself about how unfair it was that birds weren't allowed inside. Then remembered you were among mortals and had to hush up. It would only be complicated to explain why a raven could talk.

You had agreed with Death that it would do him some good to spend time among them. Dream had disagreed, but he also didn't take much coaxing to get him out here.

Death was proud of him for tagging along. You were just there for moral support.

Death had come out first. She smiled at you and then went on her way. You waited patiently for your king to exit, too.

Soon, the door opened, and Dream came out. He looked amused. He walks over to you.

"I've just met the most curious human."

"That so?"

He chuckles softly and then gestures for you to follow him as he returns back to the Dreaming.

☆☆☆

1489

Once again, you're left outside. You can't see or hear anything that's going on. Dream said he wouldn't be too long. He didn't expect this meeting to go on for very long as he assumed the human would wish for death.

Dream had explained that a man by the name of Robert Gadling refused to die. Death made the man immortal. She would never come and take him the Sunless Lands unless he asked for it.

A hundred years had passed and Hob still wanted to live.

Dream thought this was fascinating. He told Hob to be there in another hundred years.

As Dream left the tavern, you followed.

"Well?"

"He wishes to live. Another hundred years it is then."

"Who is he?" You ask, flapping your wings gently.

Dream doesn't reply. He just smiles.

☆☆☆

1589

You had requested Dream sit by the window when he came to see Hob this time. He said he would try for your sake. However, when Dream arrived, Hob already had a table set up in waiting for him. You sigh and decide to hide in the trees.

Hob Gadling had apparently become rich. He had made some gold and was living life to the fullest. He was knighted and everything. He was happy.

So, of course, he wanted to live.

When Dream came out of the tavern, he was with a young man. You heard him refer to the man as 'Will'. You flew off after them, keeping a distance, furious as to why he had left Hob. Surely their meeting wasn't over already?

Dream would later tell you he met a curious man. One who wishes to write the most wonderful plays to inspire men.

You weren't surprised Dream took an interest in him.

☆☆☆

1689

You finally got to see Hob Gadling. Dream was there first and sat as close to the window as he possibly could. You perched on the window sill outside and peered in. No one paid you any mind, except your king who checked of you were there.

A man is trying to get into the tavern. He is being held back and told he can't come in.

"Let him be. He is my guest."

You look at the man who had come in. This can't possibly be the same Robert Gadling you had heard about. Last you heard, he was rich and doing well for himself.

Then again, a lot can happen in a hundred years.

Hob sits at the table and shoves food in his mouth. He was starving. You watch curiously. Humanity was so fascinating, and he, especially so.

Dream listens as Hob regails the story of how he lost everything. Even his wife and son. You know Dream has felt loss too.

Yet, Hob Gadling still wanted to live.

You were amazed. He was so resilient. Humanity really was something special. You almost wished to experience it for yourself.

Unfortunately, someone spots you outside the window and shoos you away.

Dream hears you fly away.

☆☆☆

1789

To say you were obsessed with the way Dream looked was an understatement. You always admired how your king looked, but he certainly looked regal now.

You were sat by the open window listening to Hob tell Dream of all that had happened since they met last. Hob was confused by why Dream insisted on sitting near an open window.

Other than Hob getting into slave trading, the conversation was going smoothly. You had been listening with great interest in how the world worked. That's when she walked in.

Constantine.

With her were two henchmen she had paid. Their services apparently involved harming others. You were not too happy to see Dream being threatened.

She puts a drawing on the table. Dated last century. This woman knows there's something strange about these two.

While Hob makes jokes and messes with her, Dream remains quiet and firm.

The need to protect your king takes over, and you do not hesitate to fly through the window as Hob fights the thugs. You fly right for Constantine and distract her. While she tries to swat you away, Dream stands up and takes a handful of sand into his palm. He blows it into her face, and you land on the tables.

Constantine is plagued by her past.

Hob looks confused. "That bird came out of nowhere."

"So it did," Dream says, smile tugging at his lips.

Hob looks down at you as you look up at him. You caw. He looks back at Dream.

"You need not have come to my defence."

Hob has a suspicion he was talking to the raven and not him. Yet, he answers regardless. "Clearly. Still, I didn't want to be drinking alone here in a hundred years' time."

You look up at Dream who merely smiles.

They part ways. You fly back out the window to meet Dream outside.

He is still smiling when he returns to you.

☆☆☆

1889

Dream walks down the street in his cloak and top hat. You have taken to sitting atop the hat, determined not to let him meet Hob alone in case something happens this time.

"You need not come with me."

You scoff and look down at him. "Um, yes, I do! What if you run into trouble again? I'm telling you, sir, you're kind of hopeless without me."

You think you hear him chuckle, but you're not entirely sure.

He's accosted by a woman singing outside the pub before you can even ask him. You sigh as she tries to flirt with him, knowing full well it won't work. The woman is soon dismissed by Hob, who appears behind her.

"Sorry about Lushing Lou."

Dream steps into the pub. Hob takes note of you on his hat.

"You, uh... you have a raven nesting on your hat."

"I'm aware." Dream replies.

"That bird... it can't be, can it?" Hob takes a closer look at you. "That was the bird that from last time with Constantine."

"Sure is," you say, cawing at him.

Hob looks absolutely flabbergasted. "It talks!"

"She does," Dream confirms. "She is my raven."

You caw again.

Dream removes his hat from his head, and you sit on his shoulder instead. They two sit down, though Hob can't stop looking at you.

"Lushing Lou. Is that what they call her?" Dream decides to change the subject.

Hob takes a moment to answer him back, still trying to grasp the talking bird.

"Well, in here, they call her "the hospital.""

"Why?"

"Because she's in 'em a great deal, and because she's sent so many men into 'em. No idea what her real name is."

"Louise Baldwin," Dream tells him. "Her father was in the British army. Her cousin raped, impregnated, and deserted her when she was just a child."

"How do you know all that?" Hob asks.

Dream has never once told this man who he is. He never explained anything.

Dream still does not answer him.

"Your cup is empty. You need more wine."

You chuckle. Hob glances between the two of you.

"You knew Lady Johanna. You know Lushing Lou. You know everyone, don't you?" Hob asks.

"I saw her again, you know."

"Who? Lady Johanna?"

"She undertook a task for me and succeeded admirably, I might add."

"That might be the only thing I've learned after 500 years." Hob smiles. "People are almost always better than you think they are. Not me, though. Still the same as ever."

"I think perhaps you've changed."

"Well, I may have learnt a bit from my mistakes. But, uh... doesn't seem to stop me from making them."

They both smile.

"I think it's you that's changed." Hob says to him. You look at Dream curiously.

"How so?"

"I think I know why we still meet here, century after century. It's not because you want to see whether or not I'm ready to seek death. I don't think I'll ever seek death. By now, you know that about me. So, I think you're here for something else."

The silence from Dream made you uncomfortable. He was generally a quiet person, but this... this was something else. He didn't look pleased.

"Dream?" You called softly.

He doesn't look at you. He keeps his eyes trained on Hob.

"And what might that be?"

"Friendship. I think you're lonely."

"You dare..."

"No, look, I'm not saying-"

"You... dare suggest one such as I might need your companionship."

"Yes. Yes, I do."

Dream stands. You remain seated on his shoulder.

"Then I shall take my leave of you and prove you wrong."

Hob stands.

Dream marches out of the pub. You take flight, soaring above him once you're outside. It's raining, but you don't mind.

Hob chases after him.

You hear him say that if they meet again in a hundred years, it will be because they're friends.

Dream doesn't not answer him.

☆☆☆

By 1989, Dream is locked up in the basement of the Burgess house, and you are dead. Well, as far as Dream knows you're dead.

You're actually back in the Dreaming getting used to your new human form.

Hob isn't even a thought after everything that's gone on.

Hob Gadling sits in the bar alone.

Dream did not come.

☆☆☆

You stand with your arm still looped with Dream's standing at a fence. The pub had shut down. You turn and look at Morpheus.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" He asks, his voice as gentle as always.

"About this."

"It is not your fault. This place wasn't going to last forever."

"I suppose not..."

Dream looks at the fence and sees the red paint. The New Inn. He looks at the line, which goes along the fence and around the corner.

He starts to lead you down that way.

"Where are we going?" You ask, following him. Your arm was still looped with his, so you had no choice.

"For a drink."

Dream leads you to another building. The New Inn. You smile as you realise what that sign meant. It was a message.

Morpheus leads you inside.

There he sits. Hob Gadling is marking some papers in front of him. Slowly, he lifts his head, and his eyes meet Dream's. He smiles.

"You're late."

Morpheus smiles, too. "It seems I owe you an apology. I've always heard it impolite to keep one's friends waiting."

They smile at each other still.

Morpheus pulls up a chair for you, holding it until you're sat, and then sits beside you. You look between him and Hob, who is staring at you.

"And who's this beautiful soul?" Hob asks, smiling at you.

You feel shy again.

"This is my raven." Dream says, smiling.

"Your... raven?" Hob is suddenly struck with the memory of the talking bird. "So I did not dream the raven."

You chuckle. "Hello, Hob."

"You're not a bird."

"I am sometimes. Not today."

Hob chuckles and then glances at Dream. "I hope he's looking after you."

"It's me who looks after him." You say.

"Oh, that I believe." Hob laughs.

"Hey." Dream looks at you. He is amused, you can tell.

You laugh. Hob laughs. Dream gives in and chuckles.

Hob orders you a drink, but you dare not touch it. Human things are still new to you. However, you listen to his stories.

And you feel Dream hold your hand.

☆☆☆

@missdreamofendless - @kpopgirlbtssvt - @sitkafay - @snowsatsu - @ladyofdreaming - @thoughtsfromlayla - @modest-irish-goddess - @mystic-mara -

[bestworstcase]

in light of the v9 lore confirming the unreliable nature of jinn’s narration (light was not the “elder” brother), together with the glaring falsehood in the narration implying that salem lied when she truthfully “blamed the end of the world on the gods”

i’m not hedging anymore. we cannot trust jinn’s account of what salem told people during her rebellion, full stop.

“If she were to turn humanity against Light and Darkness, she could rid herself of their curse—or at the very least, she could make them suffer. Salem traveled from one kingdom to another, telling tales of how she stole immortality from the gods, inviting any swordsman to cut her down, and demonstrated her powers. With the kings and queens in awe, she pulled them deeper into her scheme; she painted them pictures of a time when they would no longer have to watch their loved ones wither and die, when they could claim the powers of their creators for themselves, and in turn, perfect their own design. All they needed to do was destroy their old masters.”

jinn describes this campaign as if salem deceived everyone, maliciously tricked them into serving as pawns in her hatred of the gods—but

when she’s beaten, salem stands up and vows to “tell the world of this massacre”—she’s enraged and horrified on behalf of the slain. she’s horrified when the god of darkness tells her he killed everyone. her reactions do not support the implication that these people meant nothing to her.

there is a strong ideological continuity between “overthrow our old masters, claim the powers of our creators for ourselves, and perfect our own design” and “we could be the gods of this world […] create the paradise the old gods could not.” this continuity suggests that salem actually believes in this cause, enough to hold onto it for millions of years.

so, did salem really claim to have ‘stolen’ immortality from the gods… or did she tell her allies that she became immortal through submersion in the fountain of life? that the gods can bring people back from the dead, and simply choose not to because they care only about enforcing their will? did she “pull them deeper into her scheme” or did she talk openly of what she had learned about the cruelty and fallibility of the gods? did she deceptively trick people into following her with fantasies of immortality or did she just pull back the curtain to reveal that the permanent ending of death only existed by arbitrary divine fiat that self-evidently can be changed?

just as jinn’s narration framed salem implicitly vowing to revere darkness above light if he helped her as salem deceiving and manipulating him by “making no mention of his elder” (<- why would she? this bargain was between her and darkness), this account of what salem did to foment rebellion against the gods aligns closely enough with the truth (salem did gain divine power, eternal death is an arbitrary rule, and the gods are fallible) that what it really comes down to is whether we trust jinn’s description of salem’s intentions.

did salem lie, or did she tell the truth in defiance of how the god of light thinks the world should be? did she deceive people, or did she reveal the brothers’ deceptions?

the god of light—and therefore ozpin and therefore jinn—see salem as a puppet-master making the whole world dance to her tune. “who has led you down this path?” he asks. she’s his scapegoat. but salem knelt before thrones and invited people to slit her throat to prove that she was telling the truth, and she isn’t the one who leads the army into light’s domain; she walks among them, not in front. in a story told with such robust symbolic language, that kind of storytelling choice matters.

she may have started the rebellion, but it became bigger than her; i don’t think salem even saw herself as their leader, necessarily. otherwise why not lead the way?

jinn’s narration—ozpin’s side of the story—devotes so much effort toward creating the impression that salem is a duplicitous, manipulative liar (like ozma), and then… salem hates being lied to. salem yells and throws tables when people lie to her. the cruelest thing salem can think of to say to oscar when she decides to hurt him is “the lies come out of you so easily; likeminded souls, indeed.” the opening lines of the show amount to salem saying that ozpin’s legends and fairytales aren’t true, that he’s obscured the “forgotten past.” both of her songs rage against ozma’s deceit—maidens and kingdoms wrapped up in a lie, and these children you mislead, and the more you try the more you’ll just breed hate and lies/truth will rise revealed by mirrored eyes. salem as a character is consistently associated with the truth and her hatred of deception is one of her most pronounced traits.

the lost fable is unreliably narrated—we now know this for a fact, because jinn describes the god of light as the elder brother and that is not true. there are many noticeable discrepancies between the narration and what’s actually shown. “stories aren’t reality” and “truth is hard to come by” are overtly-stated themes. and the lost fable answers the question “what is ozpin hiding from us?” and is thus presented strictly through his eyes.

in the fairytale anthology, ozpin helpfully informs the reader that stories like ‘the girl in the tower’ and ‘the infinite man’ are propaganda, not the truth.

so…

do we really believe this repeated claim that every word out of salem’s mouth is a manipulative lie? words we’re not even allowed to hear for ourselves? when the characters telling us that salem lied are ozpin and a bound spirit recounting ozpin’s side of the story? in the unreliable narrators show?

is the word gullible written on the ceiling?