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sleepingdeath-light · 1 year

Note

TOH WITH A IMMORTAL READER!

Okay so this wasn’t a specific request or anything so I’m just going to answer here with how I think each character would cope with having an immortal significant other. This got very long as I included basically everyone that’s on my masterlist… oops!

Also, to reiterate, these are just my thoughts so they’re very biased towards how I interpret the characters — and your relationship with the characters can be romantic or queer-platonic or similar depending on your preference!

Thoughts below the cut!

Adrian Graye-Vernworth

doesn’t even remotely believe you at first and will probably assume you’re joking. but once he does recognise your honesty then he’ll probably have something of a breakdown for a while and step back from your relationship — equal parts jealous of the life you’ve lived and horrified at the idea of just being a blip on the radar of your infinite life. it’s 50/50 whether this is a dealbreaker for him and he’ll either slowly inch back into your relationship or just break up with you because of the stress.

Alador Blight

alador is mostly neutral to your immortality when it comes to your relationship. like he’ll call on you for a second opinion when he’s working on something and will draw on your experience to further help his fellow witches — but he doesn’t really think about it any beyond that. though he does sometimes worry about you and how you’ll cope when he’s gone (because he knows that losing you would break him).

Amity Blight

when you tell her it’s quite the shock to the system and she doesn’t really know what to say or how to react. she’ll freeze up and you can see her thinking as she considers her response before she finally squeezes your hands and thanks you for telling her. she’d want to stay with you and wouldn’t want to break up, but she’d definitely have a few crises over the fact that you’ve lived so long before her and you will live so long after — but she also finds a small bit of comfort in the idea that she’ll never have to live without you.

Belos / Philip Wittebane

he’s been alive for far longer than he ever should have been because of his mission, so the idea of immortal entities isn’t difficult for him to believe. so upon finding out about your condition, he’s amazed but not necessarily startled by it — asking you about your origins and if there are more beings like you out there. if he truly cares about you, he’ll stick by you for as long as he’s able to keep his form stable — but if he doesn’t then he’ll just use you to find a way to complete his goal and lengthen his life further.

Boscha

boscha is someone else who wouldn’t believe you when you told her — going from genuine disbelief to shaky doubt to outright terrified denial and then through the stages of grief as she comes to terms with your condition. as sad as it sounds, this would probably end up being a deal breaker and would end your relationship as she would struggle too much with your past and future to be with you beyond that.

Camila Noceda

she doesn’t believe you at first, thinking that you’re just older than her as she’s seen some strange things but immortality is just so far beyond that. it takes her some time to come to terms with this but you do end up bonding over the losses you’ve experienced throughout your lives — you, your various lovers and friends, and her, luz’s father. she insists on learning your native language and teaching you hers so that you have an experience to remember her by.

Collector

having an immortal significant other would be the best case scenario for collector given his own life span. they wouldn’t have to worry about losing you prematurely and you’d be able to understand the issues he’s faced throughout their long life — whilst also having all the time in the world to grow with him and together as a couple. so they would be hopeful to have a spouse with this trait.

Darius Deamonne

this wouldn’t be a dealbreaker for darius but he would have a serious, long conversation about where you both stand and how your experiences would impact your relationship. he wouldn’t necessarily ask about your past relationships but he would be curious about older ages of magic on the isles and how other realms function — and especially how that can help the rebellion against belos.

Eberwolf

they’re pretty chill about the whole thing, honestly — like it rarely ever comes up in conversation so there’s no real impact on your relationship. you two just continue vibing together and spending the time you have wisely (by having fun) without the stresses such a realisation often bring. really they’re the best person you could have told — they only bring it up once or maybe twice and it’s only to make fun of you (lovingly, of course).

Eda Clawthorne

your immortality means that you have more knowledge of the world before belos and, thus, wild magic and magic as a whole. this means that eda will be looking to you to learn more about the owl beast, the history of those like her and if you ever came to know others with similar curses. she’d also insist on you teaching her about the people you loved and she’ll happily talk about raine (she’s far from the jealous type, but she is something of a gossip). she doesn’t care about making scrapbooks or taking pictures and prefers living in the moment with you and your family — living in the ‘doing’ world rather than focusing on capturing every little thing. you’ll look back on this with king and fleetingly wish you had more pictures, but the memory of her laugh and smile is tangible enough that neither of you feel like you’re missing out on too much.

Edric Blight

he will probably have something of an existential crisis about his own mortality when you tell him and would insist on finding a way to make himself live as long as you do. he starts comparing himself to the people you loved and lost and you’ll end up having to talk him into getting some help for it. your relationship will be permanently changed by this, but you will grow and heal with time — it’s just such a shock for him that he takes a bit of a mental health wobble whilst he comes to terms with it.

Emira Blight

em tends to bottle up her feelings a lot and will initially come off as very accepting and calm about the whole thing — but make no mistake this poor woman is one mislabelled jar of seasoning away from a breakdown. she’s now very aware of her own mortality and that she’s one of the probably dozens you’ve loved and lost and she’s absolutely terrified of being forgotten and lost to the sands of time. she’ll insist on keeping thorough, reliable records of your time together and by the time she’s old and you’re young you’ll be spending your last days together looking over them and laughing and crying and holding each other — finally ready to say goodbye.

Gus Porter

he will bombard you with questions about your life nonstop. did you ever live in the human realm? how has it changed? how has the boiling isles changed? there’s so much he wants to know and he has all the time in the world to listen to you talk — and he will note down everything you say and look at you with complete interest. so yeah he’ll still love you just as much as before, he’s just very nosy and eager to learn.

Hunter Wittebane

hunter is someone that would likely have a few hang-ups regarding true- and pseudo- immortality given his status as a clone/grimwalker. he’d have to do a lot of thinking regarding your relationship once he found out and a lot of serious conversations would be had about his natural lifespan compared to yours. in the end you would stay together and he’d be with you for a significant period of it (a few hundred years given him being similar to palismen) with him insisting that you don’t bring him back once he’s gone.

Lilith Clawthorne

she’d be absolutely entranced by your condition and would start fangirling over everything you must have experienced. you��ll end up getting interviewed and documented in every way possible as she asks about your history in and beyond the isles. though she might spend a bit more time on the deadwardian period than anything else (she’s biased, okay!).

Luz Noceda

luz would be amazed with you and would be eager to learn your story — as well as just about everything about you. she wants to learn your native language and hear about the cultures and people you knew throughout the years, especially if it involves some form of magic. she does, however, insist on making lots of memories with you and recording them so you never forget her.

Mattholomule

another one that doesn’t believe you but in mattholomule’s case he never ends up believing you. in his mind you’re just making a weird joke and there comes a point where you just stop trying to correct him and just live your life out with him — watching him grow old and grey whilst you remain the same. it’s on his death bed when he finally realises, but the life you shared was full of laughter and love so neither of you find it in yourselves to complain.

Odalia Blight

she is the type to use your status to her advantage which means that your relationship dynamic would inevitably shift. like she’d still care about you and be as affectionate as before, but she insists on showing you off and presenting herself as the wife of an immortal being in order to put herself above her fellow witches. you can tell her to knock it off. it will not work.

Raine Whispers

raine is heartbroken for you when they realise just how much you’ve lost throughout your life and they insist on memorialising your lost loved ones however they can. they help you write ballads for deceased lovers and learn to play songs from your home (even if their pronunciation is very shaky) because they care so deeply about you. they don’t talk about their concerns often, but they do ask that you remember them — and they leave you plenty of songs behind to do so.

Steve

as he’s quite possibly the most chilled out person in the boiling isles, steve doesn’t really care about the fact that you’re immortal. like when you tell him he’ll ask you a few questions about yourself and your past, but otherwise your relationship will stay the same and he’ll keep on keeping on. might expect the occasional cool story from your past, though, when you’ve both been drinking some apple blood.

Terra Snapdragon

she will most likely treat this as an opportunity to gain more power through your relationship. like she does care for you as you are her spouse at the end of the day, but she’s also incredibly power-hungry and having a partner who is immortal and has more experience than basically every other living entity is the ideal opportunity for her to get what she wants. so she definitely wouldn’t leave you, but the dynamic between the two of you would definitely change.

Viney

this wouldn’t be the end of your relationship but it would change a lot. viney insists on the two of you continuing to live in the moment together, focusing on making lasting memories doing things that you both love so that you never forget her. that means frequent fun dates, time spent teaching as a team, helping everyone you can and just spending time together doing what you love and having as much fun as you can whilst doing so.

Willow Park

willow is shocked by the revelation of your immortality but she doesn’t make too much of a big deal of it. like she will sit down with you and discuss anything you want to talk about, but generally your relationship remains unchanged. the only change is that she starts writing letters for you and hiding them — wanting to leave something behind for you once she’s gone.

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 8 months

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Hey I would like to request a good omens Crowley x reader angsty sad fic where they are pining over him but he loves aziraphale and they don’t want to interfere. Kind of Laufey’s song Let You Break My Heart Again vibes. Thx!!❤️

"Why couldn't I have what THEY had, [y/n]?! Maybe it's...it's all part of God's great ineffable plan! As if fallin' weren't enough...y'know? Why not allow him to walk outta my life and crawl back to the other angelss, too? Keep fuckin' me over, I suppose. This must be karma, I swear.."

"Crowley.." You began, only to stop as the demon on the other end of the line continued his drunken sorrowful ramblings.

He was still clearly hurting, and you were his only company left.

The only one who knew about him and Aziraphale and everything they've done together for the past 6,000 years.

You've been around for a thousand or so, not aligned with Heaven nor Hell, but living as a simple immortal being.

However, only very recently have you learned that they've in fact known each other since the very dawn of Creation.

So their history goes way back.

It's no secret that Crowley's been pining after the angel all these years, forced to pretend he hates him just because he was on the "opposite side".

But he was sick of doing all of that, and finally got the courage to tell him how he really felt. He begged him to stay, to stop taking sides, and to think about just them for once.

In the end, Aziraphale still chose the side that shunned him for conspiring with a demon, halting Armageddon, and hiding Gabriel on Earth...all because he was offered a higher position of power and couldn't so easily let go of Heaven.

Not as easily as Crowley could. He couldn't understand that, or why Gabriel and Beelzebub could go off together and they couldn't.

Now you were here, having to comfort the very same demon that you've fallen in love with yourself.

It felt like such a selfish desire, knowing that you haven't lived nearly as long as either of them. You weren't there at the beginning of Everything. You weren't there at the Garden of Eden.

You could never fully understand their deep-rooted bond.

There's no way he would ever see you in a remotely similar light.

Even still, the heart wants what it wants..even if it's unobtainable.

"Listen, Crowley.." You tried speaking again. "I'm next in line, do you want anything?"

Perhaps that was rather poorly worded, as you heard a sniffle and what sounded like him holding back a sob. "I just want him to come back.." His voice broke.

There was that feeling again, constricting your human heart with pain.

It was such a fickle organ, you often thought. It kept people alive, yet when put through emotional toil..it felt like it was killing them, and they wanted nothing more than to rip it out of their chest to be rid of the pain.

But right in this moment, you felt like that because deep down...you wish he instead said that he wanted-

"W-Wait..you're..at that café 'cross the bookshop, right?" You heard Crowley mumble. "I'll get the usual..assuming she remembers. Actually...don't bother-"

"It's fine, Crow. It'll be my treat. I'm getting something, too...not that we actually need it. But we both enjoy it, right?"

"...right." He chuckled depressingly. "Fine. I'll be outside."

That was a surprise, although when you briefly glanced outside the window of Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death, you noticed the Bentley parked next to the sidewalk. You sighed, hanging up the phone before you stepped up to the register, smiling at Nina.

"Hello, Nina. I'll have my usual..and Mr. Crowley's, too. Six espresso shots, was it? And one of those [favorite flavor] pies, pretty please." You pointed to the menu.

"On it." She nodded, already getting to work on your order. "You know, I haven't seen that chap around in a while. How's he holding up? I heard he took it pretty hard."

"Yeah." You muttered, recalling how you've talked to her about your own feelings for Crowley.

You weren't expecting a human to solve the relationship woes of immortal beings when she herself was going through her own issues.

She worried that her and Maggie's little "intervention" caused the demon and angel to split up, but you didn't blame her. And neither did Crowley, although he was torn between wishing he didn't kiss Aziraphale and wondering if he'd regret not doing that at all.

He hasn't been back at the coffee shop since.

"Well, do you plan to tell him anytime soon?"

You nearly choked on your own spit. "N-Nina...I..I can't just do that. He clearly doesn't see me that way. He talks about him every day and night. I've stayed up past midnight consoling him, letting him stay with me the moment I learned he's sleeping outta his car. But...it's him he loves, not me. And I can't interfere with that..it would be wrong."

"Then...what's your plan from here?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"..I'm not sure anymore. I guess hope that one day..I'll stop falling in love with him. Maybe his angel will come back and everything will be as it was."

"Sounds like wishful thinking at this point, but I'm sure things will work out. Maybe he'll move on."

"I doubt it, but time will tell."

"Right." After finishing the drinks, she set them down into a cupholder, before giving you the pie as well. You paid and bid her farewell before heading out of the café and to the Bentley.

Inside, you saw Crowley sulking, lost in thought until you knocked on the passenger's window. He sat up with a start, fixing his glasses when he realized it was you. "S-Sorry."

The door opened, and you slid inside, passing him the tall cup with tons of espresso shots. "It's okay. So..where did you wanna go today?"

"I was thinkin'..St. James Park. Feel like I've been neglecting the ducks for far too long."

You blinked. 'Wasn't that..his and Aziraphale's thing-?'

"Yeah, I know..it...was our thing." He responded as though he read your mind. "'s just..been so lonely without him to chatter to. I hate siting all alone on that bench. But it's not like I can just walk Upstairs and tell him to screw all of them, right?"

"Sadly..no." Shaking your head, you glanced over your shoulder at the plants he's shoved into his backseat. Closest to you was a venus fly trap that had spots and other flaws, looking rather frail and wilted and sad.

Not too different from how its owner felt.

You smiled sadly and stroked the top of its head with your thumb, feeling it cease its trembles. Its mouth closed as it seemed to...purr?

How cute.

"Well would ya look at that...ya even treat the bloody things the same as he did.."

You tensed, looking back to Crowley and frowning upon seeing the tears sliding down his cheeks. But he was quick to wipe them away once you noticed them, yet a sniffle still managed to escape him.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to keep doing stuff that reminds you of him.." You set a hand on his back. "Do you...want me to drive?"

"No, it's fine.." He shook his head, sniffling loudly one last time before he managed to pull himself together. "Let's just..go."

You nodded, taking a sip of your coffee and a small bite of your pie, before you reached for the radio-

However, you forgot that the Bentley was sentient, instead turning it on for you and playing a song that nearly made you choke once again.

"--All I've had is coffee and leftover pie. It's no wonder why. Ooooh, still you take up all my mind. I don't even think that you care like I do. I should stop, Heaven knows I've tried..."

Even Crowley froze as he listened to the lyrics.

And not because it wasn't a Queen song.

"One day, I will stop falling in love with you."

Neither of you spoke a word, instead staring at the dashboard with looks of sadness upon your faces. You thought he would've changed the song by now, but...when you looked over, you could see his glasses now resting on the bridge of his nose.

His golden irises have almost completely taken over the whites of his eyes.

What little you saw of them..

Were growing redder and glossier.

"Some day, someone will like me like I like you."

You felt your own eyes start to sting, too, so you looked away and opted to pet the venus fly trap that was nuzzling your hand, clearly asking for more much-needed affection.

Sentient plants were easy to comfort.

If only your demon friend could be the same way..

If only you could show him that you wished to be more than just friends..but this simply wasn't your place to tell him that.

Not here, not now...and possibly not ever. For as long as you lived on this mortal plane.

All you could hope was that one day, the feeling will pass.

If Aziraphale came back, things might be better. You wished the idiot would at least check in with you both once in a while so you knew he was alive.

If that's the last time you hear from him, well....you weren't sure if Crowley would ever want to try loving again after what he's suffered through. He poured his heart out, only for it to get broken and stomped on before being left all alone on Earth.

He couldn't go through that again.

And you didn't wanna say anything about how you felt for the centuries you've known him. He could very well perceive that as you trying to replace him and ruin this friendship.

The wounds in his heart are still clearly fresh..and they likely will be for a long, long time.

For now, you'll just be by his side and be mindful. Perhaps he'll eventually realize how you felt about him...but you doubt it.

"Until then, I'll drink my coffee, eat my pie. Pretend we are more than friends. Then of course, I'll let you break my heart again-"

Crowley's hand suddenly shot towards the button, the car filling with an abrupt silence as he shut off the music. Then he switched between several Queen songs, eyebrows furrowed as none of them seemed to suit his current mood.

If Queen didn't make him happy anymore...he was seriously in emotional distraught.

But eventually he settled for "Somebody to Love", and you smiled, wiping your eyes as you leaned back in the seat. "Good choice."

He nodded absentmindedly, before finally driving off to the park after adjusting his glasses.

No further words were exchanged. You didn't even scold him for speeding down the tightly-knitted roads of London. That's the last thing he needed right now.

Especially since you picked up that habit from Aziraphale.

But even as Freddie's voice reverberated through the Bentley, you two couldn't stop thinking about the lyrics of Laufey's song and what it meant to both of you.

Yet the people it reminded you of...were completely different.

#ough i listened to this song on repeat while editing this </3 #hurts like a bish #clanask #good omens x reader #good omens 2 spoilers #crowley x reader #ineffable husbands #immortal reader #angst

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rouecentric · 1 year

Text

HAHAHA BRAINROT TIME

IMAGINE being isekai'd in genshin as an immortal orphan teenager.

you were tired of the condescending and mean glares that the sages from the akademiya gave you your entire life, as the greater lord rukkhadevata "died" and sumeru was in a period of chaos because of it.

so you ran. ran more than you ever though you would in this life.

eventually, you almost passed out, reaching the fields and mountains of liyue, stranded alone with no help.

of course, as someone who survived alone and remembers their past life, you managed, you also found a small family that took you in, a farmer and his seamstress wife, they had a young daughter, she was at the very least three years old.

with your intellect and memories, you were used to gardening and farming, growing enough for a month and selling your own personally grown stuff to repay the kindness the family gave you. stardew valley and minecraft core if you ask me

you also got a job! shocking, i know, but you became a chef, as in your prior life you had an unexplainable love for cooking and baking.

because of the mora you got, you wanted to make an offering for the adepti that protected liyue, well, you mostly wanted to see xiao but shhh

for the offering, you made almond tofu and a hand crafted doll, leaving it at a shrine built for the adepti. the doll being blessed to have good dreams or at the very least relax the person who held the doll.

what you didn't know, was that because of you, xiao's favorite food became almond tofu and kept the doll you made.

the few following days after, you finally met xiao, as the boy walked around after a fight, multiple bruises and wounds laying on his body. and obviously, you wanted to patch him up, but he tried to refuse. key word: tried.

you weren't going to let the damn guy move on with those nasty wounds on his body bother him, so with stubborness and a little bit of almond tofu, you got to patch up his wounds.

he promised to pay you back, with it being him protecting you from the shadows whenever you'll be in liyue.

of course, you only requested him to hang out with you in the farm at least once two weeks. he hesitantly complied. he still didn't stop watching you from the shadows though

zhongli was curious of the "mortal" that patched up xiao when he came back to him, as both of them know that he doesn't patch them up.

so he observed you. well... observing is an understatement, he was practically stalking you, a trenager that helped an adepti.

after some weeks, xiao hesitantly lets zhongli finally meet you.

for the first time since the archon war, it was.. peaceful with you. like a fresh breeze of air while drinking a warm cup of tea with your favorite person.

the three of you became close, but things always have to happen.

while zhongli was mourning guizhong, you seemingly dissapeared from liyue, only leaving a jade necklace behind.

zhongli and xiao mourned the loss of one of the most important people in their lives together.

you weren't kidnapped or anything, you just resignated from your job and left liyue after talking about it to the family that took you in all those months ago.

they were sad, yes, but they knew you needed freedom and had a right to leave, so they accepted it, the three of them giving you three seperate gifts, an empty journal, a travelling outfit, and a small photo of all four of you together.

you soon after left for mondstadt.

of course, you still wanted to be a chef, so you may or may not have made a moving stand on wheels.

because of that, you were titled by your customers "little chef".

you travelled from mondstadt to sumeru, fontaine, inazuma, shneznaya and natlan back and forth, acquainting yourself with various people from all over teyvat.

of course, after a few decades, you met the traveler and her/his companion, paimon.

with the feeling of pity and multiple connections from all over teyvat, you declared yourself as lumine's/aether's unofficial guide, temporarily closing your moving restaurant to help him/her.

let's just hope that zhongli and xiao aren't mad at you for leaving liyue, though! :)

#platonic yandere #yandere genshin #ff idea #ff ideas #yandere #yandere x reader #teen reader #immortal reader #isekai #genshin x reader #genshin impact #platonic yandere genshin

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pininghermit · 1 year

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Hiiiii! I love your writing so far and I’m so excited to have found another sub Alucard blog, you have no idea! Could I be able to request a soulmate AU with Alucard? What do you have in mind? 👀

Wait Worth an Eternity (Alucard x Reader)

Pairing: Alucard x Reader

Summary: to the world, the Tagar are a legend or a figment of the past long gone. None in the world have seen or heard of them for ages. None who speak of them, anyway.

Word Count: 2.2k

AN: hey thanks for requesting this awesome fic. I loved writing this and I may have gone a little over board. I hope you like it and look out for a part 2 if you do like it.

"Leave," you whisper into the air, and the darkness behind you vanishes into the nothingness of the night. Yet two remain next to you, lingering as their forms evaporate.

"Are you sure about this?" your brother whispers as his hand reaches to touch your shoulder. The black mist of his vanishing form engulfs both his hand and your shoulder from the barest contact.

"Allow us to wait here for you," your second brother adds as the night remains quiet as ever. "Come on, are you going to ignore us? We came here for emotional support." The swirling darkness continues to surround you with dramatically offended expressions on their concealed faces.

A looming castle stands in front of you, and for a fleeting moment, you wonder if it was a wise choice to walk into something you avoided for so long.

You take in the rotting corpses speared in front of the castle doors that lay carelessly ajar. "Visibly welcoming," Aes, your brother, mutters under his breath. "Leave," you repeat, hoping for your brothers to listen to you for once.

You had to do this yourself. No amount of cowardice would stop you from it anymore. "Alright, we will leave for now, but if there is even an iota of doubt or danger, call for us." Maer, next to Aes, turns to you with his form materializing as he offers you his hand.

"I promise," you take your brother's hand and put all your conviction into your expression. Soon both your brothers leave you alone in the company of Castle Dracula and Belmont library.

The past filters into your conscience as your steps lead you to the withering doors of the unkempt castle.

The Tagar are an ancient race, long gone from the face of the world that monsters, humans, and in-betweens live in. They are people of old who came to life with the first breath of the world.

Many legends of the world speak of them as gods of old. Some call them creatures alike to the fea, for they were winged. Well, some of them were.

But none that live now know what they were. For words did not exist when they did. A race from a time so long ago did not speak similar languages as the current ones who freely roam the world do.

To the world, the Tagar are a legend or a figment of the past long gone. None in the world have seen or heard of them for ages. None who speak of them, anyway.

You are part of the Tagar, a legend from long ago. You have lived through ages of the world forming and deforming itself. In doing so, you watched your people build the society and then leave it for the solitude of peace.

The Tagar held the wisdom of age. With the addition of new races into the world, the oldest saw it as the time for their retreat. They held little love for conquering or coveting what they had built with so much love.

In those long years, you too had been a part of the ones who moved into the veiled world with the oldest of the world resided. Maybe the years had left you with much weariness that you need nothing more than peaceful existence besides your family.

You lived concealed in your mountains, valleys, and plains that the other races held no knowledge of. The world protected its oldest in those hidden places. Away from the newer races of its being.

It was in those uneventful hours of peace that you felt it. A tug. The world that your kind left so long ago called for you again. With a renewed urgency, you found yourself being led to the borders of the ancient magic that kept the Tagar hidden.

That day when you barely held yourself from exposing the existence of your kind, you dreamt of the bond that left you restless the entire day. Flashes of gold, silver, and black filled your vision. Swords, books, and coffins were the figments that revealed themselves as time progressed. Pain, anguish, and grief followed as the years went by. That is how you got to know Adrian, son of Count Dracula and a human healer.

You resisted every pull, every urge. The soulmate your elders spoke of had to wait. You would not burden him with your infinite eternity. You would give him decades free of the bond. He should have every right to be his person before he gets to be yours.

You waited for his quest as a savior to end. You waited for him to experience the world he saved, and witnessed him being chained to the land of his trauma. At that moment, you had wanted nothing more than to rescue him from the loneliness and sorrow of his own thoughts.

But your steps faltered when you saw them: Sumi and Taka. Ignoring the searing bindings of your bond, you stepped back as you observed the happiness that Alucard found next to the other two who entered his life. They were younger, more a part of the world that Adrian lived in. You forced your consciousness to move away from your fated, who remained unaware of your bond.

You slept little to avoid the dreams that would not stop torturing you with visions of him. You dared not look at the sun that shone with the color of his hair or the moon that seemed to reflect his eyes.

The Tagar loved intensely. Most loved once in eternity, and very few of them were granted a fated one. Maybe that is why you felt the bond before Adrian did. You felt it separated by worlds and veils of ancient magic.

You were lost in the motions of forgetting the incomplete fragments of your bond when you felt it—the fleeting end of the other end of the bond. The tug that reminded you of the world foreign to you felt lighter than ever.

That night, you dared to let your dreams guide you into the bond you ignored for long. You found yourself in the unlit halls of Castle Dracula, trashed furniture and floor adorned with broken glass, torn curtains, and rotting food. Among all the ruin lay your mate, Adrian. He lay there alone, bleeding from wounds you could not find with the fleeting form of your dream self.

The world you had wanted to give him by your absence no longer mattered. It wouldn't matter if he faded into the nothingness of grief and betrayal. Only oblivion greeted the ones who turned their backs on the world. You knew it better than any, and you could not fathom that end for him.

So after millennia of hiding, the first of the Tagar ventured into the world that forgot them. You came with your brothers and others who vehemently insisted on escorting you.

Now as you walk the path your soulmate once walked, your heart beats louder than ever. For a moment, you suspect a flying sword to rush your way with how loud your heart beats. Your steps remain sure. And from the periphery of your vision, you observe two rotting corpses that catch your attention. You do not turn to look at them, but a layer of black surrounds them as you move past them. There remains a mystery as all proof of their existence leaves the face of the world. The Tagar, after all, remain most mysterious in their ways.

The huge wooden doors to the castle do not creak as you expect them to, remaining functional as ever despite their age. You walk through silent and dark corridors that you remember but still remain unfamiliar to you. Scouring your memory, you look for clues that could lead you to Adrian.

It is then that you smell it - a cloying stench of death and decay, similar to the one that permeated the graveyard in front of the castle. Death, despite being foreign to the Tagar, remained the most familiar to your fate. It was one of the very first things you felt at the beginning of your visions, a death that reeked of fear, restlessness, but also of peace and relief.

Your anxiety increases with every passing second as you wander through the unknown halls. Rushing through unfamiliar paths of Dracula's castle, you pray to the forgotten gods of the Tagar, hoping that Adrian is still alive.

"Let him not be dead," you plead to anyone who dares listen to you. Not even the wisest of Tagar know of the fate beyond death - it is a truth known only to those who experience it. And you, for once, do not wish for your mate to find that truth.

"Adrian," you allow his name to fall from your lips. For the first time, it is uttered in the world without an ounce of doubt.

"Adrian," a name he does not remember, yet it never before felt more fitting than when he hears it from the echoing recesses of his mind. A voice he does not know, yet a voice he cannot let go.

After months of feeling a lifeless void, Adrian feels the beat of his heart. He feels something snap into place - a scary feeling for someone whose life lay in shambles. He is drunk out of his mind, and his vision remains shaky at best, but even then, he forgets to breathe the first time he lays his eyes on you.

You walk through the halls of his home with feather-light steps. Even in the dark, moonless night, you shine with a light he has never seen before, a glow that seems to mimic ancient stars. You remain put together in your haste, not even a single strand of your hair moves from its place.

"Adrian," you call his name again, and Adrian yearns to answer back. He aches to reply and answer to every call, but his words fail him. He notices your wings tucked behind your back - black like the endless void, yet even tucked away, your wings are majestic. Feathers that look soft at the very sight line your wings. Without a word exchanged between you and him, he knows the long ages you have spent before him.

Past, present, or future, you give him everything without him ever asking. He finds the ease of this fate to be unbelievable. Has it always been this easy? Were you always this close?

With the ease that rivers meet oceans, Adrian finds his head on your lap. Your worried gaze on him, your hands thread through his hair, and he does not suppress the shudder that runs through his entire body. He feels the warmth of your feathers on his cheek.

You have waited so long, for ages, for this. At that moment, he feels the weight of ages spent waiting for someone, the weariness of a lonely forever. You have loved him without any expectation of reciprocation, and Adrian feels wronged on your part. How did you not think of yourself? Why did you not come and claim him? He would have left; he would have let go of the world if that is what needed to be done for you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you repeat and Adrian finds it hard to stop you. His limbs feel heavier than ever. 'Not your fault,' he wants to tell you. His soul screams at him to comfort his fated, who is now sobbing next to him.

He wills his hand to wipe the tears lining your face. 'Don't,' he tries to say but his throat dries up at the sight of you. You hold his hand in yours as you interlace your fingers.

#alucard #alucard x reader #castlevania #pining #soulmate au #and they were soulmates #immortal reader #angst with comfort #hopeful ending #adrian tepes #adrian tepes x reader

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descendantofthesparrow · 2 years

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Once Upon a December - The Invitation - Walter x Reader - P1

first vampire/the invitation fic les gooooooo NOTE HEAVY SPOILERS, DOES FOLLOW THE MOVIE/PLOT CLOSLY...that is until it dont, i’m a sucker for happy endings~

(i specialize in Thomas Doherty characters x readers so if i wrote something wrong no i didn't)

They said I was found by the side of a road, there were tracks all around; it had recently snowed. In the darkness and cold with the wind in the trees A girl with no name, and no memories but these

It was dark, cold, and wet-that’s all you could remember-the flashes of fire and lightning, the echo of screams, a hand in yours, pulling you to what seemed to be safety, and then…gone. Someone screaming a name that-seemed to be yours, their voice sobbing and desperate as they drifted away until you couldn’t hear them anymore.

“(y/n)-NO-(y/n)!!!”

You don’t know how you got separated from them, they seemed to care a lot about you, just from how they screamed for you. But you could recall your foot hitting something-metal and slippery, and you fell; hitting your head. You had a nasty scar from it to this day.

You woke up to what felt like-hundreds of years later but couldn't have been more than a few weeks realistically, you couldn’t remember anything, only your name, your age, and the feeling that you were missing something…or someone-by your side.

All you had was a ruby crystal, silver stems and thorns holding it tight to the leather cord around your neck with two small letters engraved into the gem. ‘H.D’. Along the silver vines was another engraving, in the same style as the first except it seemed to simply be an extension of the last letter.

Deville.

It was so simple; you had the initials and the last name. All you had to do was match the name to the person, but-even after years of searching, be it through books or the internet; nothing popped up. A clue that led to nothing, it left you to wonder; who was this H. Deville?

And could you find them? Could you discover your lost past?

It seemed like a long shot, since this-Deville didn’t seem to exist, not a single search engine had any answers, not even a family tree to maybe help you find them.

Maybe this-Deville had disappeared in the same incident that had caused you to lose your memories 10 years ago, you sighed remembering the day you woke up; all alone on a roadside, freezing cold with snow covering you and the forest surrounding you.

You had wandered into the town nearby, a kind family taking you in and warming you up, giving you new clothes, and doing their best to help you. But with no memories, and no account of-who you were other than your possible name-they couldn’t. Somehow you ended up in new York, homeless and doing your best to survive.

That is-until you met Evie Jackson, your now roommate and one of your only friends, whom you had met during a catering job and hit it off pretty quickly; when she heard about how you were homeless and just looking for a place to crash until you could save up for your own place, she offered her apartment.

You had told her many times that you were grateful for her offer but-you couldn’t just-take half of her space, especially as someone she just met. But she insisted and now here you were, four years later, still living together.

With your combined paychecks, you had been able to move out of her studio apartment to a two-bedroom only a year after you met/started living together, and you were both just scraping by, doing your best to survive in a world that didn't favor you. Evie was a wonderful girl, smart and kind, with a wonderful sense of humor, and wicked ceramic skills. Your favorite thing from her was a beautifully made vase you always made sure to keep stocked with flowers, she had made it for your first birthday in the apartment. You did have to admit, you did cry.

You were just grateful that you had someone, two people in fact, that you cared about so deeply and they felt the same; you wouldn’t trade Evie or Grace for all the riches in the world. They made you feel just-so much less alone than you really were, a girl with no memories of her past other than voices and snow.

You were ripped out of your thoughts and memories as Evie walked into the apartment, sighing heavily as she kicked off her heels and gently threw her backpack onto the couch; before plopping next to you with a raspberry “long day?” you asked, knowing Evie had to work at this boring catering gig about a 10-year anniversary or whatever. She just groaned, leaning into you and hugging your arm.

You laughed gently, squishing your cheek into her head “Long day. I made pasta if you want it? Ravioli~” Evie perked up, opening one eye to get a good look at you “it’s that uh-lobster and ricotta cheese one I bought a few days ago, made some garlic rolls to go with it too”

Evie hummed, realizing the smell of garlic and lobster still waved about in the small space that was known as the living room and kitchen. “yes please” Evie muttered, huffing as you slipped out of her hold to go make her a bowl “Can you get me a Fanta too? Please?”

“Yep yep!” you called back, taking the leftover pasta out and heating it up in the microwave, sticking your hands in your hoodie pockets as Evie went to her room to change, sick of the full black outfit she had been wearing for hours on end. You took out Evie’s preferred pasta sauce and an orange Fanta, getting one for yourself as well; eyeing up the chocolate cake that was inside the fridge before closing it and finishing up Evie’s bowl, setting it on the counter with a re-toasted garlic roll on a paper towel.

“Orders up!” you yelled down the hall, laughing as Evie made a sarcastic laugh, coming back out of her room in a comfortable-looking set of overalls and her hair up. “Thank you (y/n), I really appreciate it, today was just-guh” Evie muttered, giving you a quick hug before collecting her food and drink, plopping back down on the couch to eat.

She un-paused the movie on your laptop and you sat down next to her, the two of you enjoying the near silence as you watched the cheesy vampire “horror” movie you had pulled up. By the end of it the two of you were cheesing it, sharing the small bottles of wine Evie had brought back in the little goodie bag grace had scored.

“I mean, who would be scared of that?” Evie snorted, gesturing to the goofy-looking vampire with obviously fake teeth and horribly done hairline. “man’s looks like Dracula on meth” At this you cracked up, sliding down the couch as Evie smirked in victory, finishing off her bottle before standing up to go wash her bowl “Thanks for dinner (y/n), really” you smiled at her and gave her a thumbs up, sitting up to change the movie as Evie washed up. “I’m gonna do some ‘pottery’” Evie mocked, using air quotes as you rolled your eyes “I said I was sorry, Ceramics~” you teased, having referred to her art as pottery only once and she still made fun of you about it to this day. Evie stuck her tongue out and sat down in her chair, taking a chunk of clay and slapping it down on her table.

You glanced at her as a few minutes later she made a frustrated noise and smushed down the bowl she had been making, pulling it up with the cord and throwing the clay with its ruined brethren. You looked away as she sighed, wiping her forehead. “Please tell me there's more mini-wine bottles in that bag” Evie muttered, standing up and walking over to you, holding her hand out as you grabbed the back and checked.

“Two more” you muttered, handing her the bag and looking away as she muttered thanks and took out one of the two wine bottles “You okay?” Evie shrugged, fiddling with her necklace like she always did when she was feeling alone. “You still have clay on your hands.”

Evie’s eyes widened and she yelped, looking down at her now clay-covered necklace and slamming the wine bottle onto the table, rushing to go wash her hands and necklace. You took a paper towel and cleaned the bottle before setting it back down on the table, resting your feet on the table as Evie walked back in, rubbing her face with her now clean hands.

“You wanna talk about anything?” you asked as she grabbed the wine bottle and the bag, smiling softly as she shook her head “Okay, I'm one doorway away if you need anything, okay?” Evie smiled at you, nodding as she turned to retire to her room “Goodnight Eve”

“Night Anya” you rolled her eyes at her nickname for you, but if fit; you matched the fictionalized Anastasia all too well. You just hoped your story would follow her’s in turn. Soon enough you were going to bed, passing by Evie’s room to hear her mother's voice faintly through the door. You frowned, knowing Evie was feeling just as lost as you did, she had no biological family left, simply floating by in life; just as you were.

You fiddled with the crystal hanging from your neck, thumbing the engraving on the vine “H. Deville” you whispered, sitting on your bed and leaning against the wall. “Just who are you?...who am I for that matter” you muttered to yourself, letting your hands fall and your head flop into your pillow, curling your hands to your chest to hold the necklace close.

“I’m never going to find out who I am” you whispered, feeling a tear roll down your cheek as you fell into a dream-filled sleep of grand parties and a soothing voice in your ear, strong hands holding you close.

A week later, you, Grace, and Evie were in the living room, Evie scrolling on her laptop to find a movie while Grace helped herself to some white wine. “Did you ever go out on a date with that bartender guy?” Grace asked, Evie made a gagging noise, sticking her tongue out as you giggled, curling the leather cord of your necklace between your fingers.

“I’m ignoring his texts” Evie muttered, looking back at her laptop screen as she switched over to her email, unable to find anything interesting to watch. Even your cheesy horror movies looked boring. Grace frowned, turning to Evie with a shocked look “why? I thought you said you liked him! Didn’t she (y/n)?”

You nodded, giving Evie a teasing smile as she glared at you for helping Grace mess with her “Yep, she said, and I quote ‘oh he’s cute’~ think I can get his number?’ with a capital c” you said almost proudly, and Evie chuckled a pillow at you, rolling her eyes as you giggled “For someone who doesn’t remember a lick of her past, she’s got our words down pact” Grace laughed, sitting next to Evie as she rolled her eyes and you blew a raspberry at Grace.

“I’m just-not-I can't handle the new York dating scene right now” Evie muttered, sipping at her coffee when her email pinged, Grace agreed with her opinion on the whole dating thing. “it is exhausting” Grace hummed, tilting her head as Evie blinked in surprise at what she found in her email. “What?”

“Yeah, what? You gasped like when you got 500 bucks off that lottery ticket” you asked, repeating Grace’s question as you moved from the love seat to sit on Evie’s other side. “I got a cousin!” Evie proclaimed, leaning back to show you and Grace the screen.

Well, there it was, right on the screen; Evie had a 2nd cousin, Oliver Alexander. “Impossible he’s white as hell” you muttered, laughing as Evie pushed at your shoulder. “What she said, that is the whitest man I’ve ever seen, and he’s British” Grace said with a small laugh, watching as Evie read what Oliver had messaged her.

“He wants to meet up” Evie muttered, licking her lips in thought as Grace choked on her wine “A stranger? On the internet?” Grace said with raised brows, as if the idea was stupid “mm-mm, you’re not doing that” Evie tried to justify it, stuttering on her words as you leaned closer to the laptop, clicking on the ‘family tree’ to see how she was related to this, Oliver.

“He’s family” Grace just gave you a look that said ‘and?’ which made you snort a bit, slapping your hand over your mouth and nose to let Evie go on without making her feel like she was being made fun of; because you both knew how important finding her family was to her.

There was a reason you got along so well, especially after her mom passed away. Evie continued, glancing back at her laptop “And-I don’t have any” Grace hummed, pursing her lips as she looked at Evie, mostly teasing but she didn’t want Evie to walk into something that was only going to get her hurt.

“Oh, so you wanna be catfished? Oh, interesting” Evie let out a small scoff at Grace's playful yet serious words, shrugging a bit as she gestured to Oliver “I mean-look, he’s wearing an ascot. What could he possibly want with my broke ass?”

“Your kidneys?” Grace joked, still kinda serious as you let yourself laugh, Evie rolled her eyes at Grace’s wild guess “That’s probably exactly what this site is, tinder for unassuming organ donors” Evie laughed, shaking her head as she clicked ‘read more’ on Oliver.

“Well, he’s British, they’re all absurdly polite” Evie muttered, pursing her lips as Grace snorted, standing up to move to the love seat. “Yeah cause they’re wracked with colonial guilt! Doesn’t mean you need to mistake that for good manners.” Evie nodded, turning to you; playing with your necklace as you stared off at nothing.

“What do you think I should do?” Evie asked quietly, and Grace leaned forward; because you would know what Evie was going through the best, both of you without families and feeling lost without a map. You hummed, glancing between Oliver and your necklace, before you smiled.

“I think you should meet him, if just to meet him and know you have family. You don’t need to get all-buddy buddy, but-you know” you shrugged, leaning into Evie and resting your cheek on her shoulder “just make sure you meet in a very public place and update us about everything. British or not dude could be dangerous” Evie snorted, patting your head as Grace pointed at you.

“Exactly, if you do go through with this, keep us updated, he’ll make a group chat even.” Evie rolled her eyes again “you keep doin’ that you’re eyes gonna get stuck” Evie stuck her tongue out at grace as she stood to make sure dinner was ready while you leaned forward to check the family tree again, seeing they were related through Evie’s great grandmother Emmaline.

“maybe I should do this, see if I have any family” you muttered and Evie shrugged, playing with her necklace as she glanced between the family tree and Oliver's message.

Finally, she took the laptop from you and clicked the ‘respond to message’ bubble, taking a deep breath before she started to type.

-end of part 1-

yeeeeeeeeeeee im hyped for this, I've been thinking about it since i first saw the invitation~ just-ah~ inspired by Anastasia, Beauty and the beast, nnnnnnnnn...idk my stupid brain XD

idk who wants to read this soooo no taglist yet? this isnt my Harry Hook stuff so no perm taglist...if anyone wants to be tagged just lemme know i guess?...okay byyyyyyyyyeeee

#the invitation #Walter Deville #Evie Jackson #x reader #Walter Deville x reader #Walters original name is Harrison #i can do what i want its a fanfic #ill let him keep the deville #but walter is a dorky ass name #memory loss #immortal reader #evie n reader are besties #happy ending #some angst to come up but its a vampire horror movie of course theres gonna be angst #watch me write walt as Harry when it comes down to it i know i will XD #i do the same with Jeff i just fuckin write all Tommy's as Harry XD #Harry is the blueprint

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mayonnaise2004 · 8 months

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The Lost Boys + Chaotic child

We love father figure vampires

Note: Once I finished writing this, My niece Sammie was born!! :D

Probably found you on the boardwalk, ALONE???

“Hey uhm… where are your parents?” “To be honest, I have no clue.”

He knew you would fit right in when you were grinning ear to ear as a train passed through the shaky bridge.

Not worried about you in slightest.

You wanna go out alone? All right. Wanna go to the frog brothers shop? Make sure to piss them off.

Usually sits back and watches as you cause chaos on the boardwalk.

He knows people like you in Santa Carla usually are left alone.

Chuckles at the fact Santa Carla would be fucked If you ever turned.

If he gets tired of you (which usually happens) he’ll leave you with Marko or Paul for the night.

The infamous quote “if you have so much energy, why don’t you go run to the cave and back?”

Getting a lot of smacks to the head

May or May not have left you on the boardwalk a few times because you pissed him off (star was ANGRY)

He found you hanging around with Laddie one night, He tried to get you back to your parents but.. the boys had already fed on them.

Definitely the type of guy to scream at you in German if you get laddie into a Sugar high

He loves you to death though.

Slips melatonin into your candy if your being a bit too wacky on the boardwalk

When he heard David say you were chaotic, He thought he’d be used to it (Hence Marko and Paul) , but oh no.

He’s definitely used to energetic behaviour, But he has snapped at you once or twice.

Has absolutely forbidden you from going anywhere near Marko and Paul whenever your out of hand.

Has definitely persuaded you from lighting the boardwalk up. Multiple times.

He found you hanging around a juke box playing ‘Twisted sister.’

He automatically took you under his patched leather wing.

“YO PAUL, THEY LIKE TWISTED SISTER!”

Loves the fact your his mini me

Causing chaos on the boardwalk every night (Which leads to you two getting kicked off.)

Scaring innocent pedestrians

Giggles like a idiot if you make David snap.

Saying “Sei il mio bambino caotico e ti amo.” While ruffling your hair.

Dancing like idiots during the saxophone man concerts

Found you wandering around the boardwalk. He just liked your shoes 😭

“Stop offering weed to me. Im like, twelve”

Bonding while mocking angry beach n@zis

Randomly ruffling your hair

Smirking as a security guard lectures him about his ‘Sibling.’

- “Umm, this isn’t my sibling, This is my fucking child.”

Acting like maniacs on the boardwalk.

Snatching laddie and running off (While Dwayne screams.)

Giving you energy drinks and watching in fascination as your pupils shake violently. (Paul.. no..)

#immortal reader #David TLB x reader #Dwayne TLB x reader #Marko TLB x reader #Paul TLB x reader #80s movie #the lost boys #tlb x reader #dwayne tlb #marko tlb #paul tlb #david tlb #80s #the lostboys 1987 #:)#Paul dating headcannons tlb #David dating headcannons tlb #marko dating headcannons tlb #Micheal dating headcannons tlb

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ashestogolddust · 2 years

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KNY Rambles

Immortal Isekai Reader?

Maybe reader was isekai long before Muzan become a demon and somehow immortal. They befriended Muzan in hope to stop him but failed and left him by faking their death.

Flash forward to the future

Reader ends up finding some of those who are supposed to be the Uppermoon in the future but ends up joining the Corps or somehow reader grant them immortality and adopts them.

Can you guys imagine Gyutaro and Daki both were saved by reader who gushed over them and adopts them overnight? Reader offered to be their mother or older sister and been protecting and caring for them ever since.

There will be a lot of changes. Imagine Muzan meeting reader who he thought had died.

Muzan: Y/N?

Y/N (tried to play innocent/stupid): Who??

Muzan: ... I can tell that's you. You still have the same scent.

Y/N: I dont know what you talking about

Muzan: How are you still alive after all these years?!

Y/N:Dude, I dont know you!!

Daki: Okaa-san/Onee-san, who is that?

Y/N: That, sweet heart, is Michael Jackson.

Muzan: ALRIGHT, NOW I'M SURE ITS YOU!!!

While the new Uppermoons/Demon Slayers watching on confused.

Part 2:

#kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x y/n #demon slayer x you #demon slayer x reader #isekai reader #immortal reader #muzan kibutsuji #muzan x reader #demon slayer daki #demon slayer gyutaro

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ask-the-clergy-bc · 1 month

Note

How would Papa III/Papa lV react to a s/o other who came back from the dead? Maybe s/o was hiding they were immortal, got caught up in an accident, then got back up like nothing happened.

NGL I took some… artistic liberties with the reader’s ‘condition’. I hope that’s ok! It’s been a real Infesstissumam type of week for me! This is based on lore I’ve built up behind the scenes for my own personal works, and is in no way canon. But I hope you enjoy my ideas! :)

GN Reader* (Note for after prompt, see bottom)

Supernatural Being/Immortal Reader

Relationship Tension

Papa III and IV Reacting to their S/O Magically Coming Back to Life… Literally

Papa III:

-No one can remember a time Papa was this devastated. Not when he was forced to retire, not when he lost everything… This is one of the few times he was forcibly pushed to go into private mourning. Even Omega had to be called back from duty to console the third Emeritus. Papa felt his world collapsing in. A demon blooded does not give their heart so easily, so it’s catastrophic when it shatters.

- Omega is the only reason anyone believes you when you ‘come back from the dead.’ You had just been the victim of a fatal highway accident merely days before. EVERYONE in the Ministry knew about it- And word travels fast! If it wasn’t for him everyone would assume you were some imposter or evil entity trying to take advantage of the situation.

-Even though the accident wasn’t your fault, you already felt guilty. This was going to be a very awkward explanation to Papa. You’ve been hiding your true nature for so many years you didn’t even bother to tell him. How was he going to react?

-Omega was the one to lead you to Papa but stopped you in the hallway. Barring you from entering the room where you could feel the angst of your beloved. The large ghoul loomed over you, eyes cold and lacking any empathy for you. It was the first and only time you felt scared of him.

“He deserves to know. Tell him or I will… Ghuleh.”

All you could do was tremble and nod.

-Papa looked AWFUL when you finally saw him. No paint, bags under his eyes, his hair and clothes a mess. He had been rotting away on his bed before you finally walked in, practically a shell of his former self. At first he didn’t respond to you calling for him, brushing you off as another person attempting to comfort him. But when he recognized your voice the man bolted up in bed. Papa stared at you with wide eyes before he scrambled to get you into his arms.

-You were showered in desperate kisses, a crushing hug, and his near sobbing; praising Lucifer for bringing you back to him. Luckily, that lasted for a good hour as he got it out of his system. The entire time you couldn’t help but glance at Omega, who watched you both from the door way with unblinking eyes.

-When you both calmed down from your emotional reunion you were forced to swallow your pride and tell Papa what had happened. That you truly had ‘died’ in the physical sense. But you tried to reassure him it was ok! That happens sometimes, and you were fine! Papa didn’t seem to understand at first before asking if you were not human or if you had been in magic practices this whole time. Well, he wasn’t wrong!

-It was nerve wracking having him go from super emotional to watching you impassively as you stumbled over your words. Yes, you knew magic that he couldn’t sense… and technically you USED to be human. Before you know, you took an Oath and became a Ghuleh. No, not THE Ghuleh of course but- you were a long lived and skilled disciple of her power. It’s the whole reason you were granted sanctuary in the Ministry in the first place. You technically couldn’t die in the physical sense. You never bothered telling him because it’s been so long since your practiced and you were afraid he might not like you if he knew. You faced so much rejection from your magic lineage, you didn’t want to lose him too. You were just too cocky that something like this wouldn’t happen.

-Papa sat in silence for what felt like ages, staring at you once you finished. A part of you was starting to break down figuring your relationship was over. But he finally moved to take your hand and give a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“Don’t you ever lie and hide from me again.”

-you cried and you both hugged.

Papa IV/Copia:

-The news of your supposed passing tore Copia apart when he was first informed. He is a strong man, but you have always been his weakness. Copia can’t cope with the idea that the love of his life has been stolen from him too soon. When Copia was informed he became a sobbing mess, nearly passed out, and was utterly inconsolable. They had to give him tome off (and a LOT of Xanax) to keep him stable. It was a second disaster all in itself!

-You hadn’t meant to worry everyone. Hell, how were you EVER supposed to predict the most random renovation accident in Ministry history! All you did was walk by one of the new walls they were putting in and… at the very least, no one else had been hurt. But it was a terribly embarrassing time for you when you sat up and walked out of the Clergy mortuary. At least Miasma got a kick out of it.

-Sister Imperator was the first person to greet you when you ‘came back.’ And she was not happy. Imperator had been the person to guard your secrets and give you a place in the Ministry. Even let you near her prodigal son. But the deal had been you disclose everything about yourself to Copia. To Tell him what you were so they could AVOID his emotional meltdowns. A small side of you had been hurt that she cared more about Copia’s feelings than your own predicament, but you pushed it aside.

-“off you go. Go make it right.” You hated how she treated you like a child and not like a fellow disciple. But she was right- you did break your promise. And now you’ve accidentally broken Copia’s heart, even if it wasn’t your fault!

-The band ghouls had been happy to see you, but Copia nearly shrieked at your presence. The Papa convinced you were some sort of trick of his mind. It took you and all the ghouls an hour to calm him down (and even more Xanax.)

-When the new Papa came back to himself he clung to you, sobbing. You could barely make out him praising Lucifer and begging you not to leave him again. You let him, he deserved to get it out. You even found yourself tearing up and apologizing. The two of you rocked each other until all the tears dried up.

-You asked to be alone when you finally got the courage to explain what happened to him. You finally explained that you were a Ghuleh, a disciple of the zombie queen and her undying magic. Copia listened but he was stuck in a look of shock the entire time. You assured him that you never wanted him to find out this way. You were hoping he’d never find out.

-The worst thing ended up happening, aside from a break up. Copia didn’t want to leave you and he wasn’t planning to. But he was horribly upset at you for keeping this from him. Copia understands as much as he can. That’s not an easy lineage to hail from in this day and age. But you couldn’t tell him AT ALL?? How could you both be so close and so in love yet you kept this from him? It took you LITERALLY DYING to finally come clean! He felt so stupid at first. That he had a break down over this and not being strong enough to tell you were this deep in forbidden magic.

-As much as you both hate it, it did take a small hit on your relationship. A son of Lucifer and Child of Ghuleh has its own magical complications. But you don’t split. Copia would never let you go over this. He just needed a little time to get over feeling embarrassed and upset. This whole ordeal has made you both closer if anything!

-Imperator is oddly pleased about this…

—

*Notes:

Ghuleh is both the name of the Zombie Queen AND her highest ranking disciples.

Anyone who is a Ghuleh is someone who achieved partial or full ‘immortality’ through the magics practiced by the Zombie Queen.

Ghuleh in this regard is a gender neutral title, and one of VERY high honor.

In my work Ghuleh is NOT to be confused with ‘Ghoulette’ or any feminine nick names for Ghouls. They are separate categories.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost headcanons #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iv #Cardinal copia #Copia #reader insert #ghost reader insert #sister imperator #omega #reader death #immortal reader #mentions of death #minor triggers #relationship turmoil #ghuleh

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fiona-my-love · 1 year

Text

THIS WAS ORIGINALLY A J-CK BRIGHT X READER FIC BUT NOW ITS UNDER CONSTRUCTION BECAUSE OF THE CREATOR’S ACTIONS.

————— x immortal! reader oneshot (hurt/comfort)

ahh.. immortal lovers. what would I do without this trope.

Tw: Suicidal thoughts/actions, crying, angst in general but fluff at the end

He sat alone in his office, shaking and muttering curses under his breath.

“Why won’t I just fucking die.”

He muttered to himself, eyes filled with tears. He clutched his amulet in disdain. Why was this the way his life went?

All he was back then was an unheard of scientist, trying to make a name for himself. And he can’t tell if he achieved his goal or if he completely lost sight of it. After everything that happened, was he even himself anymore? Was he known for his hard work, or just because of his immortality? Was it really going to be this way for the rest of his life, seeing everyone die time and time again?

He tried not to think of it, squeezing the pendant in his hand and smashing it to the ground. He was practically sobbing at this point, as he continued to smash his fist into the cold, hard floor. His other hand clutching his mouth, as he let out muffled screams. He watched the scarlet liquid begin to pour down from his fingers, the pain red hot. Why was this happening to him of all people? What was so different about him?

He sat there in pure shock, trying to numb out his cold reality. If only I never came to this dammed foundation. It hurt to think, but it was the truth. He was so passionate about it, his loyalty belonging to it completely. Yet, he can’t deny the fact that it ruined him. He couldn’t help but loathe his past self, so exited yet so oblivious.

But then, he was taken out of his mind-numbing daze when he heard the door creak.

“Hon?.. You alright?” you chirped.

Your voice chimed innocently, simply just checking up on your lover.

You opened the door to a horrifying sight. Jack was sitting on the floor, pulling at his hair. His face was buried in his knees, but you could see the reflection of his tears. Something was clearly wrong.

The room was filled with dread, yet you ran straight to him, kneeling down to his level. You cup his face,

“————? What happened?..” you whispered.

He looks back at you, eyes full of regret.

“I’m sorry, I just-“ he choked.

How was he meant to describe how he felt? He loved you, but you were just born immortal. Would you even get it? He swallowed, looking up at you. You gasp, seeing his shattered state.

His hair was disheveled, his hand covered in blood. But the most shocking, was his face. Your once energetic and chaotic boyfriend’s eyes were full of sorrow. Bloodshot, face covered him in dried tears.

You held his face, gently wiping away his tears. You fixed his hair a bit, trying to relax him.

“Darling.. what happened?” you murmured.

He was tired of holding it in. He melted into your touch, starting to let it all out. He hung onto you like a lifeline, sobbing into your chest. You held him close, pressing a gentle kiss on his head as you pet his back. He began to ramble about everything he was feeling, and you began to catch on.

“Why do I have to be this way. Why was I cursed like this? It isn’t fair. None of it is..”

You put your hand under his chin, bringing his head up to look at you.

“Darling..” you said, before pressing a gentle kiss onto his lips.

“I don’t have all the answers, but I can promise you that for as long as we’re together, I’ll make sure you feel loved. I’ll always be by your side to ground you, no matter what happens. I’ll always be here to protect you..”

You pulled him closer, bringing him into your lap for a hug.

“I promise.”

Maybe joining the foundation wasn’t the worst decision he ever made.

#fiona writes #hurt/comfort #angst #jack bright #doctor bright #scp containment breach #scp #dr bright #doctor jack bright #dr jack bright #x reader #scp reader #immortal reader #doctor reader #oneshot #do not tag as shaw

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herwritingartcowboy · 9 months

Note

Can you please do a shinra X reader where the reader see shinra in his bansho man form and isn't scared of him (in this the form becomes permanent and shinra also becomes immortal and the reader is also immortal)

A/n:Let's just say in this time line Shinra was forever in bansho man form.

Fandom: Fire Force

Character(s): Shinra

Warning(s): Manga Spoilers

Readers Gender: Gn

You can still recall the day when you first saw Shinra in his so-called 'Bansho Man' form.

Shinra was so scared to see how you would react to him like this as before you would always call him cute but what would you think of him now. He tried to avoid you but you made your way to and instead of looking at him in disgust you just hugged him in tears. Shinra hugged you back as he misses you so much and was hoping for you to be okay. That's when you took in his appearance, "You still look cute Shinra", you said as Shinra looked away.

But somehow during all this time you two were lucky to have each other as sadly you both learned that you two are immortal. You both had watched and seen the world move on but yet you two still stayed. You two miss your friends but are happy to have each other.

"Even after all these years you are still the cutest Shinra", you said as you laid your head on his shoulder, "Thank you Y/n for not being scared of me" "Now why would I be scared of the man I love".

#fire force x reader #shinra kusakabe x reader #fire force x y/n #fire force x gn reader #fluff #gn reader fluff #immortal reader #shinra x reader #kusakabe shinra x reader #Shinra kusakabe x gn reader #kusakabe shinra x gn reader #fire force oneshot #fire force imagines

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thepaintedlady00 · 1 year

Text

Burden

Chapter 8: The Mist Waits

Chapter 7 | Chapter 9

I finished earlier than I thought I would, so enjoy the early chapter release y'all!

TW: Violence, confrontations, The Fates, Desire, blood, Dark Daunt, cliffhanger

Rose Walker was having an odd day. So much had happened in such a short time, and the girl wasn’t sure whether the appropriate response would be to cry in joy or to scream in frustration. She had family left, a Great Grandmother that seemed to want the same things that she did. Jed back home and safe, and them to all be a family once again. Now she had the resources to start truly looking for her brother and, hopefully, to bring him home once and for all.

“I’ll just get Lyta. Be right back,” Rose said in answer to one of the new people added to her odd little circle.

“Rose,” a voice called out to her, soft and young.

She stopped walking for a moment, quietly questioning whether the voice was in her head or actually coming from within the home. “Rosebud,” another voice said, maternal and warm.

“Rose Walker,” a third replied, cold and older.

She felt afraid and uncertain for a moment as her feet carried her forward to the closest door, the only logical place one could whisper to her from. Once she opened the door, she was greeted by three figures clothed in black.

“Hello, Rosie,” the youngest said.

The second smiled. “Come in, my butterfly.”

“You are at a crossroads, Rose Walker.”

She tilted her head slightly. “How do you know my name? Who are you?”

“Names, names, names,” the eldest among them said, waving her question away.

The youngest smiled sweetly. “Each name is but a single aspect of the whole.”

“Be satisfied by the trinity you have, love. You wouldn’t want to meet us as The Kindly Ones.”

“We can only caution you, sister.” The youngest looked darker. “We can’t protect you.”

A chill ran up Rose’s spine as she asked, “Protect me from…”

A maternal laugh echoed around her. “From life, my posy.”

“And the things that hover beyond life.”

“Thrashing themselves against it,” the eldest finished.

“Beware dreams,” the youngest whispered. “And houses. And trees.”

The cold voice sighed. “You ask the wrong question.”

“Had you asked the right one, we could have warned you against The Corinthian and the ghost of mist that haunts his steps.” The warm voice said.

“Told you about Jed,” the young voice continued.

“And about Morpheus.”

The light turned on, and the figures vanished before Rose’s eyes, almost as if they’d never been there… and maybe they hadn’t.

He stood in the center of the throne room, staring at the steps that Daunt had stood on. Dream had spent every free moment searching for The Forest, to no avail. The realm had either vanished entirely or closed itself off from him, as Daunt had after that day in Fiddler’s Green. Sadly, he was more inclined to believe the latter to be true. His head spun with the sheer number of concerns plaguing him, awaiting to be addressed. Dream of the Endless felt like he had back in the Burgess basement, only somehow worse. He felt he was being pulled in every direction, forced to split his focus between dire events, and feared no matter what he did, one or more would slip through the cracks and result in yet another loss for him to bear.

“My lord,” Lucienne’s soft voice called him from the dark corners of his mind as she approached with a book. “Forgive me for intruding, but I have the volume you requested.”

“Yes,” he sighed, taking the heavy leatherbound book from her hand and moving to sit on the bottom step of the stairs, hoping the vision of her bloodstained gown would fade from memory if he was not looking at them. “I assume it holds nothing of use as all the others.”

His librarian nodded solemnly. “I’m afraid so.”

“Jed Walker is still in the realm of the living, but I cannot find him.”

“No. Nor I, my lord.” She answered.

“All humans are connected to The Dreaming.” He shook his head. “They spend a third of their life here. Breaking that connection would require knowledge. And power.”

“Then it may interest you to know that the last nightmare Jed Walker had before he disappeared was of Gault.”

“You think she severed him from The Dreaming?”

Lucienne nodded. “I do.”

“Why?” He questioned.

“Because he’s not just any child, is he?” She replied. “He’s Rose Walker’s brother. She is the Vortex.”

Quiet footsteps echoed in the empty throne room as a dark figure walked toward them. “Excuse me. I am Rose Walker. What do you know about my brother Jed?”

Lucienne turned to Dream with wide eyes and an open mouth. Daunt’s words echoed in his ears. Sight alone will not tell you her secrets. He stood and smiled. “You are welcome here, Rose Walker.”

She looked around for a moment before asking, “Who are you?”

“You have somehow dreamed your way into an audience with Lord Morpheus. The King of Dreams,” Lucienne answered sternly. “And now you must go.”

“Lucienne.”

His librarian sighed. “She shouldn’t be here.”

He tilted his head slightly. “No, but I should like her to stay.

Rose Walker was indeed the vortex. Dream could feel it swirling around her. Power and mystery and something else, something that felt familiar. Lucienne’s apprehensive demeanor did not shift while Rose stood in his realm. He could not blame her. After all, a Vortex was a volatile and uncertain thing. Matthew agreed to watch over her in the Waking World, and as Rose Walker returned to her bed, Lucienne gave Dream a look. “Are you certain this is wise, my lord?”

“Gault must be found one way or another,” he answered carefully. “Leave Rose Walker to me, Lucienne. In the meantime, continue your search of the library for anything that may lead us to The Forest.”

The Corinthian enjoyed tea. He enjoyed the smell of the soft floral notes and earthiness and found the taste to be almost comforting. Though he’d never allow himself to linger on why he enjoyed such things, a lingering nagging voice in the back of his mind told him repeatedly. It reminds you of her. This was, of course, a voice he smothered when he was able. Instead, he smiled beside Unity, listening to her so easily give up the information he needed. It was inconvenient that Rose Walker had returned to America, but The Corinthian didn’t mind much.

If she was the key to his permanent freedom, he’d go to the ends of the earth to find her. Daunt’s white form stood before him, bathed in the light from the window, but that light did not touch her. Instead, she dampened it with her presence alone. “What do you fear more, I wonder? Not finding your vortex in time or having her deny you as all others have.”

As he walked out of the old home, he clenched his jaw at her presence beside him. “Answer me, nightmare.” She insisted. “Answer me, betrayer.”

“I’m not scared of anything,” he spat at her. “Not some fuckin kid, not Dream, and certainly not you.”

Laughter echoed around him as the sky grew dark with storm clouds. He turned to face her, to find her gone once again, but before he could even breathe, he felt her cold hand wrap around his neck. Long nails bit into his skin as she leaned in closely and whispered. “You should fear me, dear Corinthian.”

He tore himself away from her, searching for the white maiden in the open streets. “Mine will be the last face you see.”

“My lord,” Lucienne called out as she approached with confident steps. “May I help?”

Hunched over the table, he glanced up at her. “Is this everything we have on Rose Walker?”

She nodded. “And Jes Walker. But I shouldn’t think there’s anything in those you don’t already know. Except perhaps-”

“Except perhaps why she was able to wander into my throne room.” Dream sighed. “What do you think? Why did Gault target her brother and not her?”

“Did you read about Unity Kincaid?” She asked, turning away from him to fetch another book. “The day you were imprisoned, there were people all over the world who fell asleep and could not wake up. Unity Kincaid is the sole survivor of what they called the “sleepy sickness.” The day you returned, she woke up.” She set the book down in front of him. “Rose Walker is her great-granddaughter.”

He hummed. “Which would seem to suggest that my absence caused the birth of a vortex.”

“Is that not a possibility?”

“Vortexes are naturally occurring phenomena,” he stated with a smile. “No one knows why they happen. Not even I know. But I do know they are not caused or created. They simply happen.”

Lucienne’s eyes narrowed as she thought about his words. “Then this is all a coincidence? And not an imminent threat?”

Dream sighed. “My instinct says no, but tonight, when Rose Walker sleeps, I shall see it more clearly. May I?”

Lucienne held up a hand to stop him. “There is something else, my lord.”

“What is it?” He asked, reading the way her face tightened as she spoke.

“I know every book in this library,” she began, turning away from him and retrieving something from a nearby shelf. “I know this library and these books and… yet…” she returned, holding a pale book in her hands and offering it to him with a saddened face. “Somehow, this one has been hidden from me for eons. It should not be possible.”

“And yet it is,” he said, gently running his hands along the white bindings, glistening with jeweled leaves of green. On the first page, The Great Tree was illustrated in deep tones of brown and emerald, surrounded by the smaller trees covered in mist. It was almost as if he could feel the leaves beneath his fingertips and the cold mist caressing his skin. It was almost as if this book was alive.

Lucienne looked at the beautiful thing with fondness and apprehension warring in her eyes. “I’ve tried to read it, but it’s… Incoherent.”

“How so?”

“Most of the pages are blank. There appear to be remnants of words written on some, and other pages or paragraphs are perfectly legible. The words, however, make little sense given all that is missing.” She shook her head and sighed. “Only the illustrations remain intact.”

As Dream flipped through the pages, studying the little words scribed here, he stopped at another picture. Daunt, or rather a drawing of her, white amidst a sea of dark colors. His heart felt heavy in his chest the longer he looked. “This will not tell us where she is.”

Lucienne’s soft eyes met his as she spoke, “No, my lord, it won’t. But…"

“What is it, Lucienne?”

“One of the illustrations seems to depict what happened to her… What kept her from reaching you the day she left.” He handed the book to her instantly. If there was a way to learn what befell her on his behalf, he had to see it. He had to know.

The librarian quickly flipped through the pages before holding the book back to him with downcast eyes. There on the red-stained page were three words… Daunts last words. “My dear Corinthian.” The image showed her standing on a bridge, holding his nightmares cheek as The Corinthian pushed his blade into her chest.

Dream drew in a deep breath as The Dreaming rippled with the rage that filled his heart. “The Corinthian…”

Lucienne bowed her head lower. “It is my fault. I should not have given her his location nor asked her to seek him out.”

“No.” He breathed out, tears welling as his finger glided across the worn page. “The fault lies with me. She would not have been vulnerable had I failed my duty to retrieve the nightmare.”

“My lord…” she whispered. “If this image is corrected, then… is Daunt not… dead?”

“No.” Dream looked up at her, meeting her wet eyes with his own. “Death told me she’d not been called to The Forest for Daunt. Daunt herself told us she was lost.”

Lucienne shook her head. “My lord, that… vision… that apparition spoke in naught but riddles. If it was truly Daunt, then she is not in her right mind.”

“Perhaps she is not,” Dream replied solemnly. “But the fact still stands that she lives. She lives, and I will find her if it is the last thing I do in this existence.”

That night he accompanied Rose in her dreams to search for Jed Walker and Gault. That night he had the chance to examine the vortex up close. Dream had expected Rose Walker to be impressive, but the way she adapted to her newfound abilities as a Vortex was surprising, even to him. She found her way through the dreams of those closest to her, following his advice and asking questions, seemingly wanting to learn from him. Most impressive was her ability to stay focused through each dream, never losing sight of her purpose within them and never seeking to abuse the power she held.

She led him to Gault with ease, and once his nightmare was back within his grasp, he ensured she would not be free to defy him again. He did not regret his harsh punishment of the shapeshifter, but he did feel an unpleasant knot form in his stomach after his less-than-kind treatment of Lucienne after the fact. Still, he moved forward. Too much demanded his attention to focus on keeping his realm safe. The notion of that seemed simple enough until a crack appeared in the stained glass window above his throne, and the entire palace shook violently around him. After that, all he could do was watch in horror as the cracks grew before his very eyes.

“Loosh? You in here?” The pumpkin head made a quiet noise of apprehension. “Sorry, boss, I was just looking for Lucienne. See ya.”

“Wait.” He ordered. “Why were you looking for Lucienne?”

“Oh, well, we just had some minor seismic activity and a little, you know, damage I wanted to report.”

“Then why not report it to me?” He asked.

“Uh, because you’re busy?” Mervyn offered. “While you were away, Lucienne started taking care of that stuff, so I figured why bother you when-”

A dark feeling curled around him, nearly squeezing all the air as he said, “Mervyn if The Dreaming has been damaged in any way, I will be the one to address it.”

The floor shook, and the cracks spread throughout the windows and up the stone walls. “Oh, for crying out loud. Do you want me to fix that for you? Or will it just keep happening?”

“It will not keep happening because I will find the cause of the disturbance, and I will eliminate it. Thank you, Mervyn.”

“Uh, you’re welcome,” the handyman replied before turning and hurrying in the opposite direction.

Dream returned his eyes to the glass as it continued to crack. He would not watch his realm crumble again. The halls shook around him as he made his way to the library with hopes Lucienne would be able to provide him with some information on these tremors. “Lucienne?”

She stood off to the side, re-shelving books with a slightly pensive face. “My lord.”

“I have come to return these.” He handed her the books, their eyes meeting in an awkward stare. “And to assess the extent of the damage from the recent disturbances.” She said nothing, merely watching him as he bent down and picked up a stack of fallen books. “Have you any idea as to what caused them?”

“I assumed it was you, sir,” she said almost coldly.

“Me?”

“Making further improvements to the realm… now that you’re back.” She clarified as she brushed past him.

Dream sighed quietly. “Lucienne, when we last spoke, I did not mean to imply that your efforts beyond the library are without value.”

“Oh?” She questioned, clearly frustrated.

“I merely wish to relieve you of responsibilities with which, had I been here, you would never have been burdened.”

“I see.”

“And in that time, did you experience any… similar seismic disturbances?” he inquired offhandedly, looking at the book he still awkwardly held, only peeking up at her.

I did not.”

“Have you any… theory as to their origin?” He pressed cautiously.

At last, Lucienne set down the stack of books she held and turned to him. “Speaking strictly as a librarian? I do. But you won’t like it.”

“Go on.”

“I know you’re waiting to see if the vortex will lead you to The Corinthian and Fiddler’s Green. The way she led you to Gualt.”

“She may yet still.”

She scoffed. “Yes, but while you’re waiting, she’s putting cracks in the foundation.”

“Rose Walker has visited this realm before and done no damage,” he pointed out. “This is something else, something new.”

“Perhaps, but if there is something new in The Dreaming and you did not create it, how did it get here?” She asked. “This is the vortex. I assure you.”

As soon as he could, Dream found Rose Walker’s dreams and watched her closely as the landscape marred with cracks and the house he’d not built appeared before him. Lyta Hall was indeed pregnant; by the look of it, she and her dead husband had somehow managed to find a way inside his realm in secret. He would be furious. How could he have been so blind? How could he have allowed a vortex to cause such chaos just to aid him in mending his own troubles?

Matthew cawed beside him. “So, what do you think?”

“Tell Lucienne she was right about the source of the tremors.” Dream ordered. “And that I am taking care of it.”

The raven took to the skies quickly as he moved forward, entering the house with ease and staring down the spirit that had found its way here. He knew, without Dream having to say a single word, the spirit knew that his time here was up.

Lyta and Rose entered, laughing with one another. “Hector, look who’s here.”

Both women slowed as they looked at him. Lytas face was drained of the happiness that had been there moments ago, while Rose looked confused. “Lyta, you remember I told you about Lord Morpheus, the King of Dreams?”

“What do you want?”

“He wants us to leave,” the spirit answered.

Rose looked at her dead friend and then back to him. “Why?”

“Because a ghost cannot escape his fate by hiding in The Dreaming. Nor can a living human being escape her grief here.” He shook his head. “Do you not see the damage your presence has done to this realm? I cannot allow you to stay.”

“Is there anything we can do?”

“You belong with the dead,” Dream answered. “You must go to the place appointed for you. I’m sorry, but you must say your goodbyes now.”

Lyta exhaled a shaking breath and shook her head. “No. I’m not losing you again.”

The spirit approached her with a sad smile. “I love you so much.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” the woman insisted, pressing a kiss to her lover’s lips. “Get out of our house!”

“Lyta-”

A soft chill stilled the harsh words on his tongue as mist swept across the floor. Dream turned to look at her lithe figure standing in the room with them. Daunt did not acknowledge him or Rose or even Lyta, only the spirit once named Hector. She raised a pale hand, covered in frost and frozen vines, toward him as she whispered, “Come.”

“Hector!” Lyta cried out, taking hold of the spirit’s arm as he began to turn toward the specter.

“She’s here for me.”

“You can’t go with her. You can’t go!” Lyta cried. “I can’t… not again.”

“What is lost will always be found.” Her words were cold, carrying the chill of the mist and frost. Dreams’ heart stuttered at the sound of it.

“Daunt,” he whispered her name like a desperate prayer, a plea to her. Hear me... Look at me.

Her head turned in his direction, and even from behind the veil that shrouded her face, he could feel her eyes. He almost dropped to his knees then and there in the crumbling dream Lyta Hall, and her dead husband had built, but she turned away from him and once again beckoned the spirit to her.

Hector spared Lyta a look before pressing a kiss to her lips and cradling her round belly in his hands. “Tell the baby I love them. Never let them forget just how much I love them.”

With a weak sob, she nodded. “I won’t, not ever.” She sobbed as she cupped his cheeks. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” the spirit whispered. “Goodbye.”

He turned and lifted his palm into Daunts. A wave of mist and distant wolf howls echoed all around them. Dream took a half step forward at the familiar sounds of The Forest’s call - of Daunt’s call. The spirit let the mist wash over him with a content sigh before he vanished from sight. Rose held her friend closely but never looked away from Daunt as she remained.

“Child born of death and dreams,” Daunt said, her voice echoing like ocean waves. “Evil will seek it out to steal its power.”

“No!” Lyta shouted, turning her head toward the white figure. She shook her head, holding her stomach tighter. “No.”

Rose rubbed her arms. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep them safe.” She looked at Dream desperately. “Right, Dream?”

He was frozen for a moment, still looking at her, before he nodded stiffly and looked at Lyta. “So long as I live, no harm shall befall your child. Not in the Waking World and not in dreams.”

The woman didn’t look convinced, but after a moment, she nodded and eased into Rose’s arms.

“We are running out of time,” Daunt said to him.

“Then help me,” he pleaded. “Open your realm and let me in.”

She tilted her head. “Only you hold the power to do so, Dream of The Endless.”

“What do you mean?”

“My realm was never closed to you,” she answered.

Dream sighed, stepping closer to her. “I do not understand.”

Daunt lifted a frozen hand to his face, her thin fingers traced over his eyes. “You do not need to understand. You only need to see.”

Mist slid through his fingers and smoother gently across his cheek. Gone again from him, the crumbling dream was all that remained. The two looked sad when he turned back to Lyta Hall and Rose Walker. Sad for him. Lytas’ eyes held an understanding beneath her deep anger and loss. Rose spoke, “Who was she?”

“An immortal being,” Dream answered simply. “One that is not your concern.”

“You care for her.”

A painful longing exploded within him as he turned away from them and said, “This dream is over.”

When he finished repairing the damage to his realm, he sought Lucienne out. Matthew would have already delivered his message, but Dream owed his librarian an apology. “Lucienne?”

“My lord. There’s something I must tell you,” she said as she hurried out from around the corner.

“And I will listen. But, first, you must let me tell you that… you were right.” He said softly, noticing immediately how her eyes looked up at him with light and hope renewed inside them. “The vortex was responsible for the damage to our realm, and I was… wrong to risk our safety in the hope that she would locate the missing Arcana.”

“You were not entirely wrong, sir. She’s found them both.”

“What? The Corinthian and Fiddler’s Green? Where? How do you know?”

“Fiddler’s Green told me.” She looked over to the shelves at the man… at Fiddler’s Green as he emerged from behind the racks.

He bowed. “Apologies, lord, for having left.”

“Why?” He asked, desperate to understand what he’d done wrong. “Why did you leave? I trusted you. You were the heart of The Dreaming.”

“No, sir. You were the heart of The Dreaming. And you were gone. I was curious. And it turns out that life as a human contains substance I never even imagined when I was here.” He sounded so vibrant. “Which is why I’ve returned because… he’s murdering them.”

“The Corinthian?” It wasn’t shocking to learn of his nightmare’s recklessness.

Fiddler’s Green nodded, face twisting in disgust. “He appears to have built up a cult of worshipers who kill for pleasure, endangering the Waking World and the life of a friend called Rose Walker.”

“The Corinthian has found Rose Walker?”

“Yes.”

Lucienne shook her head. “Can you imagine the damage he could do with someone like Rose?”

“You must tell me where they are.”

The Corinthian stood at the podium, delivering a confident and proud speech inspiring the room of pathetic and deluded humans to imagine their atrocities. Dream stood in the aisle, watching his creation with ill-tempered rage swimming in his chest. The nightmare noticed him quickly but did not stop his speech until he’d finished. Always doing things on his own terms, Dream thought silently, for a brief moment admiring the determination he had forged. But was it not that determination that led him to plunge that knife into Daunt’s chest? To betray the one he called friend?

“You disappoint me, Corinthian,” Dream said through tight lips. “You and these humans you’ve inspired and created… disappoint me.”

His words visibly struck his creation as he bared his teeth. “I’ve done my best to be what you made me.”

“No,” he replied with a slight chuckle as he walked toward the stage. “You’ve done your worst, which was in so many ways what I had hoped. You were my masterpiece. A dark mirror made to reflect everything humanity will not confront.”

“That’s what I am,” The Nightmare nodded, straightening his back as he turned to face his creator. “That’s what I’ve done.”

“No. Look at you, walking this Earth for over a century infecting others with your joy of death, but what have you given them? What have you wrought?” His anger began to seep into his words. “Nothing. Just something else for people to be afraid of. That is all.”

The Corinthian scoffed, cocking his head ever so slightly. “So what now? You send me back into their dreams?” He pulled a knife from his jacket, a knife not unlike the one he’d used on Daunt, and shook his head. “Cause I won’t go willingly.”

“A knife against a dream?” His voice was dark wind and shadow as he stepped towards his creation slowly.

“You don’t think dreams can die? Let’s find out.” The Corinthian insisted.

Dream held his hand out, drawing upon his power. “Enough.” The sand moved at his feet as The Corinthian stabbed his knife into his outstretched hand. The pain startled him back and to his knees as he looked down at the wound. “How?”

“I’ve got Rose Walker getting stronger every second while you get weaker,” The nightmare said with a wide grin. “She’s taking your place at the center of The Dreaming. She’s bringing the walls down between the sleepers’ minds, and now they’re all dreaming the same dream. A dream that I inspired.”

“No.”

“It’s already happening. There’s nothing you can do. She’s asleep and dreaming.”

“Then she’s not beyond my reach.”

The Corinthian shrugged. “Oh, I think she is. Now that she knows you’re planning to kill her.”

Dream pushed himself into the horrific visions molding together just as she and her brother turned towards him. “You need to wake up!”

“Don’t listen to him, Rosebud. You’re the one with the power now, not him. This is your dream.”

“It’s his dream for your world,” Dream corrected.

The Corinthian smiled at Rose. “Then let’s make it yours. Whatever you want, Rose. A blank canvas!”

The dreams of her brother and the other humans vanished, and Rose’s eyes went wide with fear. “Where’s Jed?”

“Jed’s fine. He’s upstairs, asleep, he’s right next to you. This dream is yours now. The Dreaming is yours now!”

“The Dreaming is yours? Is that what he told you?” Dream demanded coldly.

Rose looked up at him, confusion evident in her eyes. “He told me you were gonna kill me.”

“Did he tell you why? When a vortex brings down the walls between dreams, she creates a single volatile dream that will collapse in upon itself, and take the waking world with it. Your world. Everything and everyone will die.”

The Corinthian bent down to Rose’s ear. “Don’t believe him, Rosie.”

“It’s happened before. I failed in my duty, an entire universe was lost.”

“He can’t kill you if you kill him first.”

“Killing me may save your life, but it won’t save the lives of those you love.”

“I’m tryin’ to keep you alive here!” The nightmare growled, the playful mask he bore slipping at last.

“I’m trying to keep your world alive,” Dream argued.

The Corinthian growled, “You have to choose one of us, Rose!”

“Enough!” She shouted above their noise, waves of power rolling off her and amplifying her voice. Rose Walker looked to The Corinthian. “If I’m as powerful as you say I am, then I will find my own way. In the meantime, the walls go back up.” She lifted her hand, willing the walls between the dreams to return.

A loud groaning sound echoed all around them as the mist began to overtake the room. Rose drifted back closer to Dream as everything around them changed. “What is this? What’s happening?”

Trees, gnarled and dripping with blood, surrounded them as dark figures moved in the woods, and all manner of noises surrounded them. The tree roots wound around The Corinthian’s limbs as The Nightmare tried to take a step back from the figure in white that now stood at the treeline. “Daunt.”

Dream wanted to reach out to her, to speak to her, anything, but Daunt was not herself. Her blood-covered form was no more than mist and bitter frost. Instead, Dream took hold of Rose’s arm and pulled her behind him. “At last,” Daunt said softly, but her voice sounded anything but. “You have come to see the damage caused by your hands.”

The roots of the trees began to squeeze the nightmare tightly. He groaned as his bones began to creak beneath the wood. “This is still your dream Rose.”

The figure in white turned her head, and ice crept along Dream’s form under her gaze. “No.”

Rose shivered from behind him and quickly uttered the words she’d heard him say, “This dream is over.”

“NO!” Daunt screamed, lunging forward as the dream vanished.

Standing back in the hotel, his nightmare breathed a relieved breath and stood once again as Dream looked down at his now-healed hand. His nightmare removed the dark shades that shielded the rows of teeth from view. That anger that filled him became unbearable as he looked over at the nightmare with watering eyes. “She trusted you, loved you, and you betrayed her.”

The Corinthian sneered. “You, of all people, have no right to judge me, Dream. After all, you drove her away in the first place! If you think I’m going back to The Dreaming with you-”

The floorboards beneath their feet began to tremble and crack. Mist filled the room as tall trees tore through the floors, and The Forest started to bleed into the Waking World. The Corinthian looked around him with stoic features as roots quickly began overtaking everything in the room. Standing in the crowd, Daunt breathed heavily, the veil gone, revealing her bleeding chest and wide eyes. “You do not get to leave me again, Corinthian.”

“Daunty,” the nightmare said softly. Roots twined around him as she walked up the stage and past Dream to stand in front of his rouge creation, the creation that had betrayed her.

“Have you any idea what it was like?” She demanded. “Knowing all this time that it was you that plunged the blade into my heart. That you… my friend… would doom me to this.”

For the first time, Dream could see the sorrow and pain in the nightmares eyes as he looked up at Daunt. “I’m sorry.”

A sob escaped her throat as everything in the room grew colder. “LIAR!”

The roots stabbed through The Corinthian in various places, digging deep into his body. He took it all with a sheer grit of his teeth, never looking away from Daunt as she stepped closer to him, a blade… the blade poised in her hands and pressed against The Corinthian’s chest. “Do it.” He told her. “I deserve it.”

Dream moved closer to her, ignoring the way it stung his skin. “Daunt…”

“No,” The Corinthian told him. “Do it, Daunty. Finish me.”

“Was it worth it?” She demanded, her gaze shifting to the humans that sat in the crowded room. “Was all this worth it?”

“The only thing I regret is what I did to you,” The Corinthian said carefully.

“Regret?” She questioned, deathly quiet. “You do not know regret… not nearly enough to satisfy me.”

“Daunt,” Dream called out, hoping to pull her from the darkness that echoed in her words.

The blade flashed in the dim light as she drove it through The Corinthians ribs, twisting it as she knelt down, leaning her head closer to the nightmare and listening to his pained noises. “Look into my eyes, betrayer. Look and see what you wrought.”

He seemed to shake the longer he met Daunt’s gaze, the stoic features of his face twisting into pain and sorrow. The trees closest to her caught fire, and the sounds of fear and screaming. “Daunt…”

“You did this!” She screamed, tearing the blade from his ribs and stabbing him again.

The Corinthian bowed his head, pulling the blade from his flesh and holding it out to her. “Please.”

A sharp and pained scream echoed around Dream as Daunt fell back slightly, holding her chest as the wound began to bleed once more. She sobbed quietly, holding her hands to blood and crying as she looked to The Corinthian. “I trusted you…”

“I didn’t mean for this,” he whispered. “I didn’t…”

Daunt wept, “I cannot kill you, dear Corinthian. No matter how much you deserve it. Our fates are sealed, yours and mine.”

The Corinthian’s lips quivered as he looked back up at Dream. “Finish it, Dream.”

His voice was low, nearly hoarse, as he spoke, “I brought you into this world to serve humanity. Not to feed upon it.”

“I do it to taste what it’s like to be human.” The Corinthian admitted. “You don’t care about humanity, none of them. You can’t even bring yourself to care about her. You only care about yourself and your realm and your rules.”

“I contain the entire collective unconscious. Without my rules, it would consume me. Humanity would be consumed.”

“Or you might actually feel something. I am not the problem, Dream.”

With a look to Daunt, whose form slowly began to be overtaken with frost, he replied, “You are right. This was my fault, not yours. I had so much hope for you, but I created you poorly then. So I must uncreate you now.”

The sand swirled, glowing red as it ate away at his masterpiece. Daunt lifted her hand to his cheek, and he looked down at her as the last remnants of him faded. The Corinthian smiled at her, a soft smile, one he’d never known the nightmare to show before now. “Yours is the last face I will see.”

Daunt held the tiny skull of his nightmare in her bloodstained hand, standing slowly and turning to face him. More blood streamed down her cheeks as she cried tears of red. She placed the skull in his hand, and she whispered before he could even utter a word. “Find us, Dream. Please.”

And just as suddenly as she’d appeared, Daunt was gone again from his sight. His hand curled around the skull as he turned to the crowd of his creation’s flawed inspiration and shook his head. “And you… who call yourselves collectors, until now you have sustained fantasies in which you are the victims, comforting daydreams in which you are always right. But no more. The dream is over. I have taken it away. For this is my judgment upon you, that you shall know from this moment on exactly how craven and selfish and monstrous you are. That you shall feel the pain of those you have slaughtered. And the grief of those that mourn them still, and you shall carry that pain and grief and guilt with you until the end of time.”

They all rose from their seats and walked, dazed, out of the room. Dream looked around him at the lack of trees, mist, and all Daunt had brought with her. He closed his eyes and silently swore he would find her.

Rose Walker was not only the vortex but the child with the blood of an Endless. A child born of his sibling’s games. As soon as Dream had laid eyes on the dark heart she’d pulled from her chest and given to Unity Kincaid, he knew it. With a swiftness powered by his rage alone, Dream entered his gallery and grabbed the heart on the wall. “Desire. I stand in my gallery, and I hold your sigil. Talk to me.”

The faint image of his sibling’s wide red grin shinned from within the stone. “Why, sweet Dream. This is a surprise. Almost an event, I might say.”

“Good. I’m coming through,” he bit out through clenched teeth.

“You are?” They questioned, a slight pitch of fear entering their voice before they chuckled. “But of course. You know you’re always welcome in my chambers.”

The glossy red of Desire’s realm was hideous. He’d forgotten how much he detested the vivid color and how pungent the sickeningly sweet smell of summer peaches was. Dream took slow, deliberate steps closer to his sibling, who lounged in a chair in their gallery. “Lovely to see you,” they purred. “Can I get you anything you desire?”

“I desire nothing from you save some answers,” he replied tensely.

“Ooh, is this a test?”

“Unity Kincaid should’ve been the vortex of this era. But someone took advantage of my imprisonment and fathered a child with her, knowing full well that it would become the vortex, and I would be forced to kill it.”

Desire’s smile widened. “Was I really that obvious?”

“No,” Dream answered, circling them. “You covered your tracks remarkably well.”

“Well, that’s high praise coming from you.”

“What did you truly intend? That I should spill family blood? With all that would entail?”

They laughed. “This time, it almost worked.”

It was no secret that he and Desire loathed one another, but Dream hadn’t thought they would stoop to such drastic whims to see him dead. With a scoff, he shook his head. “My sibling, we of the Endless are the servants of the living, not their masters. We exist only because they know deep in their hearts that we exist. We do not manipulate them. If anything, they manipulate us.” Standing behind them now, his voice lowered, threatening and dark. “And you and Despair, and even poor Deliruim would do well to remember that.” He pulled their head back by their light hair and looked deep into the golden eyes that now flared with anger and fear. “Mess with me or mine again, and I shall forget you are family. Do you believe yourself strong enough to stand against me? Against Death? Against Destiny?”

“No,” they said in a trembling tone.

“Remember that next time you’re inspired to interfere in my affairs,” he whispered to them as his eyes trailed away from their golden irises to the red bitemarks that marred their hand. His hands tightened in their hair. “Where did you get those marks?”

“Is it not obvious, big brother?” They sneered with a smile. “Our lovely Mistake sends her regards.”

“What have you done with her?”

Desire’s smile widened. “So predictable, big brother.”

Anger laced deep into his voice. “What did you do?”

“I merely gave her what she always wanted.” Their golden eyes flared. “An end to her pitiful excuse of an existence.”

“You would dare to raise a hand against her?”

Desire scoffed. “She is no Endless. She is a Mistake. One that refused to see reason.”

“Where is she?”

“Right where I left her,” they answered. “In that pathetic little forest of hers with that stupid mutt.”

“How did you find it?”

Desire’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, you still haven’t been to see her? How sad. From what I hear, she doesn’t have much time left.”

Dream released their hair, practically throwing them forward as he turned and strode back down the hall he’d arrived in. “If Daunt dies, I will be back for your head.”

“Give her my best,” they called after him. “She looked rather ill when I last saw her.”

Daunt was alive, he reminded himself. She was alive, and he would find her. He would not lose her again.

It had been weeks since he’d finished his business with the Vortex and Desire. Months and still, there had been nothing to help him find her. He scoured every book and dream, desperately searching every corner he could reach for her to no avail. The ember of hope he’d held all this time slowly began to dwindle as the days passed… as he grew closer and closer to facing the horrible reality that he’d failed her.

Matthew had followed him to Fiddler’s Green, as the bird was known to do now that he was no longer shadowing Rose Walker, making comments on his incredibly sullen behavior, but Dream didn’t care enough to answer him. Instead, as he stood among the green fields and the flowers and the memories of their moonlit dances and conversations, Dream cared about nothing else but her. He wanted to see her again, to hold her in his arms and to beg for her forgiveness… to tell her, the real her, that he loved her and that he had for quite some time.

He stared out at the peaceful meadow for a moment longer before turning to leave. There was nothing for him here. Or was there? He halted almost instantly at the sight of white standing in the trees in front of him. The white stag stood between two large trees, watching Dream. Matthew looked over to where his master was staring and quietly asked, “What’s that thing?”

“A creature I thought had long abandoned this realm,” Dream answered as the stag turned away and began walking into the forest. Something inside him forced his feet to move, to follow the creature into the dark woods.

“Oh! So we’re following the weird lookin thing?” Matthew cawed loudly, taking to the sky to fly after them.

The trees grew closer and closer together, and darkness began to make it difficult to follow the creature forward. Mist rolled over Dream’s boots, and a chill seared his skin, forcing him to halt. This was not Fiddlers Green. This was nothing of his realm. “The Forest.”

A few steps ahead of him, the stag looked back and huffed, its breath visible in the frozen air, before it continued forward, stepping over the gnarled roots. Dream moved, too, a newfound desperation in his steps as they emerged from the thick trees into a small glen of frozen moss. Death and blood hung in the air all around them. The hollow resembled that which he’d seen in the short dream Daunt had influenced.

The stag took a half-step forward, a small frozen twig snapping beneath one of its hoofs. The sound echoed far louder than it should have, filling the silence with it. A heartbeat passed before a black shadow lunged out of the trees and dug its claws into the stag’s back, clawing and biting until the poor creature collapsed and its blood coated the white ground. Dream stood perfectly still as the beast tore into the stag’s flesh and devoured the steaming meat.

“Holy shit,” Matthew breathed from a branch beside Dream. The beast’s head turned, revealing two grey eyes locking onto Dream. It turned, claws clutching the stag’s body tightly, and let out a loud screech. Blood and spit coated its sharp teeth as its foul breath wafted to Dream’s nose.

The beast gave little to no warning before it pounced, claws tearing out of the carcass and slicing through the air as it made its way toward him, ready and willing to take the killing blow. White shot out through the forest, slamming into the black creature and forcing it onto the other side of the clearing. Growls and barks echoed through the trees before suddenly all grew silent. Matthew flew down from his perch, hopping toward the stag cautiously. “Where the fuck are we?”

Before Dream could answer the birds’ quiet question, the white blur returned. It leaped from nowhere and pinned Matthew to the snowy ground by a wing. The bloodstained teeth of the white wolf, marred with scars both old and new, chomped as he raised his head to look up at Dream. One eye was blue, crystal, and starry, while the other was faded gray and scarred. “What manner of demon are you?”

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