#(assigned doomed at birth)

[spooksier]

some scans from my pandorica radio dev book, i couldnt find any orange sticky notes

☆ pandorica radio out now ☆

#art zone #pandorica radio tag #comics #horror comics #cosmic horror #a bit of manifestation on the third page (molly was my thesis mentor hehe) #do not take that doodle with the top surgery scars to mean that osgood’s afab lol he’s adab #(assigned doomed at birth)

[ghostietea]

I get from a logical angle why people might be put off by her but I think it's a shame that Akito Sohma doesn't get more appreciation because she is truly one of the characters of all time. She's the evil female reincarnation of God. She's so androgynous one of the anime adaptations guessed her gender wrong. She dresses like a theater tech. She sits like a gremlin. One time someone said something that upset her and she was bedridden for months. She wore a full coverage pure black outfit to the beach in summer and then complained about the heat. She has flower symbolism. She's campy and dramatic. She was assigned male at birth for political reasons. She simultaneously looks like a twink and a dyke. She has no friends until she's 20. She passive aggressively flirts with the protagonist the first time they talk. When she's not fucking up people's lives she just lounges around at home being depressed. She's a tragic villain almost certainly doomed to be a bad person by her upbringing and part of the tragedy is that it's still her fault. She doesn't know murder is wrong. She's pretty much a cult leader but that's one of the few things that isn't her fault. All of her schemes backfire on her in a poetically ironic way. She likes the in universe Pokemon equivalent. She looks like the evil twin of one of the main characters and this is never explained because the author forgot why she did it. She's a decent transfem allegory and a bungled transmasc one. She has world's worst internalized misogyny but is willing to change her whole life the minute another woman wants to have a legitimate positive relationship with her. She's the human manifestation of a cycle of abuse who then goes on to break it. She's extremely sexy. She is simultaneously very dangerous and intimidating and a pathetic failgirl. She's a perfect foil and parallel to the protagonist. She marries a man who had revenge sex with her evil mom. The author said that she ships her and the protagonist in a no homo way. She can be easily interpreted as autistic. She has catastrophic abandonment issues. She's hiding that she's a girl but wears her kimono improperly open in a way that makes it so she's constantly at risk of accidentally flashing someone. She has daddy issues and mommy issues. She was even homeschooled.

#fruits basket #akito sohma #she's so so interesting and entertaining and I have so many big feelings about her I think she deserves her flowers #it's just that The Atrocities are an inextricable part of her and The Atrocities in question are domestic abuse so not many people like her #though I do maintain she'd be way more popular if she was actually a man

[locklyle1kanij]

I’m gonna make a list of my fav Lockwood and co fics in the hope that someone will see this list then reblog it and say “wow good choices! You should really check out this fic!”

(PLEASE I NEED FICS) (Warning these are basically all mainly Locklyle fics just letting you know)

(okay obviously we need Policy 8 on this list!)

“Policy 8” written by by: The_Biscuit_Agreement

Ongoing

Plot Summary :

Policy 8 was established in the hope of encouraging the birth of increasingly powerful agents. All agents 18 and over must accept the marriages DEPRAC assigns them. Agents between the ages of 16-18 can volunteer to enter the programme or else be forced into it due to minor illegal behaviour.
Lucy Carlyle volunteered. Anthony Lockwood was forced. In an effort to protect the two teenagers from being turned into pawns in the games of the rich and powerful, Barnes ensures Lucy and Lockwood are married. But just because they aren't stuck as pawns, doesn't mean the teenagers aren't forced into the same dangerous games.

“As London Burns” written by: ScienceFantasy93

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

An AU About locklyle in the middle of world war two with Lockwood fighting as a RAF pilot and with Lucy as a news reporter. (very angsty) (idk what else to say about it tbh… BUT I LOVE THIS FIC!)

“The bones of our past written” by: moon2pluto

Finished (but has a sequel that’s ongoing)

Plot Summary:

Just a few months after the destruction of the bone mirror, the team of Lockwood & Co. has another big case to tackle:
When Lucy gets a letter from her little sister, begging her to come back and help her with a haunting doomed to kill them, she doesn't need long to make a decision, and neither George nor Lockwood are going to let her face this alone. To not get any unwanted attention in her hometown, Lucy and Lockwood agree to take a closer look disguised as a couple while George is busy researching. But when the haunting turns out to run much deeper and wilder than any of them thought, and other players enter the game, one question arises: Will Lockwood & Co. also make it out of this case unscathed?

(This one’s my all time favourite)

“The hidden archive” written by: BrooklynBooks

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

Ghost possession doesn't happen often, but fatality rates are high. Even if an agent does survive, there are the aftereffects to worry about. After surviving a possession, Lucy Carlyle struggles with recovery, delving ever deeper into the memories of Visitors and, in the process, stumbling into the world of blackmarket Sources. Meanwhile, George Karim races to learn the truth behind ghost possession in order to protect Lucy and save future agents. And Anthony Lockwood must face his own past with the London underworld if he wants to save his friends and himself.

“Connections” written by: The_Biscuit_Agreement (I’m sorry i’m so obsessed with their fics lol)

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

Lockwood forms a psychic link with a dead young agent and the group try to use it to work out how the agent died with disastrous consequences.

“Crushed” written by: itripandfallalot, Salvoirfaire

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

A bad case and broken leg leave Lucy no choice but to return to Portland Row until she recovers. Lockwood is definitely not using this as an opportunity to persuade her to come back for good, because that would be unfair. And he never plays dirty.

“Because everything is the same until, very suddenly, it isn’t” written by: Netflixcapricorn

Finished

Plot Summary:

What happens when the only way out of this mess is a fake marriage?

(Here’s a warning, extremely angsty)

“Lucy takes the long way home” written by: agents_cxrter

Finished

Plot Summary:

Lucy might have left Lockwood and Co, but she can't get Lockwood out of her system.

(So many annoying emotions in this one like WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME!!?!)

“This is going to end badly” written by: The_Biscuit_Agreement

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

When Fittes Agent Lucy Carlyle is cornered by relic-men alone in the woods, she is rescued by an unlikely source: Anthony Lockwood, run-away and relic-man. When Fittes gets tasked with trying to track the young man down, Lucy finds herself in an interesting position.

“Perfectly Incandescently Happy” written by: OceanSpray5

Finished

Plot Summary:

After the death of her best friend, Ms Lucy Carlyle is given the opportunity to be sponsored for the 1815 London season by Norrie's aunt. Instantly compared to the Diamond due to their astonishingly similar looks, she befriends Lord Lockwood quite unexpectedly yet is left wondering if she was a fool for believing he'd look twice at a mere country girl.

(This fic is literally the cutest thing to exist… if you exclude the angst lollll)

“No One Cares About The Nightwatch” Written by: Nomolosk

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

Lucy Carlyle is a Listener, a failed agent, a runaway, and now works the nightwatch in London. One might think her life a failure from start to last- but Lucy has goals. She will get a grade four certificate, and reapply to all the best agencies, and her life will get immeasurably better.

However, firsthand experience of the treatment most people give the nightwatch, and a chance encounter with Lockwood and Co. have her reevaluating those goals... maybe she can do some good before she moves on...

“The Injury of Finally Knowing You” written by: booknerds_unite

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

Anthony Lockwood, the only surviving male monarch from the Lockwood line, has six months to find a wife or Parliament will make a case to keep him from the throne. Lucy Carlyle has just arrived at the palace to work as a maid and to escape her horrific mother. They were never supposed to meet.
On the night of Lockwood's birthday celebration, their paths cross and nothing will ever be the same.

“What lies between the lines” written by: The_Biscuit_Agreement

Ongoing

Plot Summary

When she arrived in London, Lucy Carlyle took up a job at the British Archives, spending her days determining which love letters, suicide notes and other collected paperwork could one day produce a visitor. It's a taxing job, made easier by king archivists and the presence of young agents doing research nearby. As Lucy becomes close with some of these young agents, she starts to receive love letters herself and finds herself using her under-utilised talents to try to work out who might be behind the notes.

(at this point just go through all of The_Biscuit_Agreement fics tbh… There all perfection)

(okay i’ve read a ton more really good Lockwood and Co fics but i feel lazy now so maybe i’ll post a part two of fic recs later)

#lockwood and co #fic recs #locklyle #lucy carlyle #anthony lockwood #save lockwood and co #lockwood & co #lockwood and lucy #george cubbins #george karim #ao3 #part 2 soon? #please give me recs!! #i hope this helps someone

[hana-no-seiiki]

childe babytrapping??? pls share ur thoughts and opinions on that <33

barks cutely 😋😋

// mention of noncon, babytrapping, murder, drugging.

please. i would have written more on this man if there weren’t amazing fics already out there (i really recommend this one where he’s the tsar and reader is a new fatui addition it’s super hot and reader def ends up f i l l e d) don’t fuel my addiction for him-

in any case childe, as many writers would agree with me on, is a family man. now this doesn’t matter what gender you identify with or what you were assigned on since birth. it’s his goal to fight you and eventually have you take care of at least a dozen children (his, yours, as long as they’re cute and obedient)

i don’t think this idea has been expanded upon that much but i like the concept of him simping over this one particular senior of his. not as ancient as his other co-workers but definitely not young enough to be as rowdy and loud as him.

you caught his eye with a display of controlled bloodlust that really instilled a drive in him. a sense of discipline. not so outwardly apparent whenever you two spar (you respecting his dignity not mentioning the bulge in his pants whenever he inevitably loses).

if you’re afab he just outrightly assaults you. most likely when you’re drugged while feigning that he is as well for deniability in case you frame him (he still needs his job for child support if ever). and if you’re amab he’ll probably adopt a kid and force you to pity/like them. if not have you impregnate a woman and then kill her after the child is born. but yeah you get drugged whatever is in your pants.

if you happen to be loyal to the tsaritsa, perhaps he’ll do a task she requires of him that will earn a favor. something like summoning a sealed god and dooming a nation for a chess piece perhaps.

if anything, childe is patient, knows his weaknesses and limitations, and is willing to do anything to improve on them.

if you aren’t able to love him . . . well, they never said that all married couples had to start off head over heels for one another.

#genshin impact #genshin #yandere #yandere x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #childe x reader #yandere childe x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere fic #genshin impact fic #yandere genshin impact fic #genshin self insert #yanderecore #yancore #yandere self insert #tw babytrapping

[rbinsgf]

Soulmates who are fated to kill each other

Satoru Gojo x Suguru Geto - Angst

We can ponder the question of which comes first between the soul and the body, argue about the very birth of a soul and the final death of a body.

We could also wonder what it means for both entity to be so intertwined within each other. The topic of soulmates has been bating the human brain for centuries, between myths and science, no one seems to find satisfaction in any theory whatsoever.

Alas, one would argue philosophy is only the getaway of the cowards, desperate to find answered to all their whys, terrified at the mere thought of a pointless existence.

And humans ARE cowards, so pathetically scared at the simple thought of nothingness. Loneliness is a form of nothingness. Humans are fragile creatures, unable to survive without peers.

That’s where the soulmate enters the performance of their life. Soulmates renders life more bearable, it gives it a direction, something to search for, a promised treasure, sweet and soft, assigned to every single individual.

But Life is nothing but sweet nor soft. It’s cold, it’s unfair, it’s illogical and unpredictable.

Souls, are a curse. And humans couldn’t bare it, too weak to handle this harsh reality. So they invented myths and legends to comfort themselves, forcing life to be more sweet and soft.

But their are forces out in the universe. Forces who watch and control. Forces who were offended by humans, weak creatures refusing to evolve the way it was planned and instead sought out comfort and soft arrangements.

Those forces were ultimately bored, and humans were becoming arrogant. And so they decided to punish them, using their own inventions against them.

Having a soulmates, it means that there’s someone out there who upon meeting you for the first time, will know of all your weaknesses and ugly parts. Having a soulmates, it means that there is someone out there who will accept and love your entire being. Having a soulmate, it means that your life has a direction, a meaning, a motivation, en end goal full of love and happiness.

Having a soulmates, it means that if you ever meet them, you are condemned to either die by their hand, or execute them with yours. Over and over, in every lifetime.

…

"At least curse me a little at the end"

Satoru Gojo exhaled. His mouth a straight line on his pale face, the bandages around his eyes remained unmoving. He could see Suguru Geto’s cursed energy slowly fading, like a bone fire slowly going out. It’s still warm, stable and comforting.

Satoru remembres sensing it for the first time. He was late for his first day at Tokyo’s Jujutsu Tech High School. It was his first year, and even then he was leisurely strolling down the hallway to his class.

That’s when it struck him. Behind the door of the room, right behind the corner. A cursed energy so warm, so comforting he felt he could nap in it for ever and ever. It was steady, with a slight edge to it. Something unpredictable, something exciting.

Satoru finally opened the door of the class 10 minutes late.

That’s when it struck him. A gaze so intense he felt his six eyes shudder under it. Dark, profound, cautious, intoxicating. Something dangerous and oh so comforting.

That’s when Satoru first met Suguru Geto.

…

Suguru sucked in a breath and chuckled, his hand gripping his bloody shoulder tightly.

That’s when Satoru crouched down, he opened his mouth and took a breath in.

…

"You could kill me, there’s meaning in that too"

Suguru never glanced back. His eyes glued to Shinjuku’s sidewalk. He focused all his might and will in ignoring Satoru.

His mind was set. His heart ached something cold and relieving.

Suguru could breath again. Stripped of his responsibilities as a Jujutsu Sorcerers, of his loyalty to a corrupted society.

Stripped of his devotion to what once was his.

Suguru had known from the exact moment he first sensed Satoru Gojo, without even seeing him, that he had been doomed to love him.

They are so perfectly opposed. So logically different.

The strongest. Plural.

Gojo’s techniques made him godlike. Unbreakable, untouchable. Forever allowed to keep curses and humanity at arm length.

Geto’s technique made him miserable. Vulnerable, rotten. Forever condemned to bear humanity’s sorrow within him.

…

The report read as follows :

Special Grade Curse User Suguru Geto has been executed by Special Grade Sorcerer Satoru Gojo following his defection and the events of the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.

This case is now closed.

…

"Oh you found my student ID ! Thank you Gojo-Sensei"

Satoru smiled and looked up at the falling snowflakes.

Tears prickled at his covered eyes.

Flashes of dark hair and infinite eyes. Glimpses of smug lips and soft hands. Echoes of laughter and deep breaths.

Whispers of unkept promises. Loud vows and silent pleas.

At last, a warm light, unwavering, bright and calm. Forever kept within the confines of Satoru’s heart.

"I didn’t…my best friend did…"

What I didn’t tell you earlier is that. When a soul kills it’s other half, it also sacrifice a part of itself.

"My one and only."

And the pain ? It’s only soothed by bittersweet memories.

Which we can only hope, will never fade.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk #jjk gojo #geto suguru #jjk geto #jujutsu sorcerer #satosugu #satorugojo #satoru x suguru #gojo x geto #jjk angst #angst #satosugu soulmate #soulmates #reverse trope

[writerlyhabits]

Aliit ori’shya tal'din

Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Your second day in the covert reveals both new and familiar faces; hospitality and hostility.

Chapter 3 of the Shereshoy series | Masterlist | Ch. 2 | Ch. 4

Warnings: lots of Mando’a, mild language, soft Din, awkward Din, protective Din [he’s got a wide range, okay?], original Mandalorian characters… maybe a little bit of angst? It’s mostly worldbuilding, so I think that’s about it. 

AN: A word from the author – “I’m in grad school, I take forever to write things.Soon I will start grad school again, which means I’ll write this instead of my dissertation. I’m quite fond of the Mando Legends Lore, if you haven’t noticed. I literally got Kad Ha’rangir & Arasuum tattooed on me.”

This is the third part of a sister fic for my one-shot (Courting) a friend of mine wrote based on this request, and I’m so happy she’s letting me share it with you guys! She is also sharing it on AO3, so be sure to send her your love and kudos there as well! We hope you enjoy 💛

Translations, in order of appearance:

Aliit ori’shya tal'din: Family is more than blood

Rejorhaa'i kaysh murcyur gar shupur’ika?:  Are you gonna tell her to kiss your ouchies?

Cuyi ulyc, vod.: Be careful, sister.

Aliit: family

Ad(e): child/children

Kar’ta beskar: the central "diamond" of Mandalorian armor; lit. heart armor

Mirjahaal: peace of mind, "healing", general term for emotional well-being especially after a trauma or bereavement

Beroya: bounty hunter

Kurshi: tree

Sen’tra: jackpack

Buir(e): Parent/Parents

Akaanati'kar'oya: The War of Life and Death (Mandalorian myth), creation story

Verd'goten: a special trial for one to become warrior; lit. birth of warrior

So'haale: births

Urman'gedete: prayers

Eparave: feasts

Cyarir evaar'la: Courting

Alii'aliit: meeting of the clans, the closest thing mandalorians have to government or parliament; lit. "clan of clans"

Tsad: group (of people), alliance

Bes'ede: Mythosaur

Kandush : inevitable doom

Time moves differently underground.

With Odona, the hours passed quickly. As a team, you could disassemble and reconstruct nearly any ship in their small fleet, save for a few parts— which no one had yet found and delivered. The days were faster when the guardsman opted to join you in his free time, his first visit and subsequent dialogue with Odona still memorable.

To what do I owe the displeasure; Oh Mighty Protector of the Covert and Savior of Foundlings?

The pleasure of my company is for your friend, ‘Dona.

Why? Going to terrorize her again, Ik’? Ven’rejorhaa'i kaysh murcyur gar shupur’ika?

Cuyi ulyc, vod.

You had sensed there was a joke hidden within their jibes, one you were unable to decipher in their foreign tongue, but neither took the time to explain. Whilst Ikarus lacked use for the labor that required fine motor control, his presence disrupted the monotony of the many tedious and repetitive tasks you and Odona spent much of your time doing— their frequent banter kept you entertained throughout the day. 

The time you had spent in the medbay was shorter— the most common injuries coming from the older adolescents early on in their training, whose resilience and constitution had yet to strengthen— as well as wrist and ankle sprains from poor fighting forms, the occasional laceration from knife safety training; and at worst, injuries from the teens and young adults earned from a vigorous sparring session.

But with Din, the mornings and evenings together never felt long enough. The hours were reminiscent of your time with him and the Child in the Crest, the warmth of your aliit protected by familiar cold walls; the stone of the cavern both analogous yet antithetic to the durasteel of your former home. 

One forged of hands, and the other of time— one of the fires of a furnace, the other the fires of a planet’s mantle. Your time together before was that of contrivance, engineered— with agendas to follow and assignments to complete— your interactions affable yet somewhat artificial, a present barrier precluding your companionship from evolving into something more… More natural, more innate, more intimate. Here, your time together had been more candid, endearing— Din no longer shied away from any probing questions or physical closeness, which allowed that previous barrier to melt and slowly flow away like that of bedrock to magma, reshaping and remolding your times of leisure together to hours of unified repose.

The hours turned to days, the days turned to weeks, and the weeks turn to this moment, where seemingly no time passes at all— blanketed in the familiar darkness of your room. The unlit and chilled space, at first an unacquainted oddity, now a comfortable companion to spend the sleeping and waking hours in. The ritual remains the same— awaken with the Child, have the morning trade-off with Din, make the caf, and begin the tasks for the day— like clock work, a well-oiled droid.

This morning is almost no different, and yet, you hesitate to leave your bed, your conversation with Din the previous morning still fresh in your mind— 

Din had sat aside the table, his body resting against the wall— unarmored, arms crossed, head tilted to the side, the same position as every morning. Once you handed him the Child and sat, caf in hand, he finally spoke.

“I’d like you to join me tomorrow,” he stated. 

The lack of pleasantries from him was unsurprising, though a teasing ‘Good morning to you, Din’ was a tempting response. Instead, you greeted him with a grin and an unobjectionable reply— 

“Alright, what are we doing?” 

He hummed, pleased with your immediate acceptance.

“The adults alternate supervising the ade. Tomorrow, it’ll be our turn.”

You gestured toward the Child in his arms, in a playful retort. “Don’t we supervise this ad every day?”

The Child cooed in his arms, his ears perked tentatively at his mention. Din sighed, with a smile in voice.

“We do. It’s tradition for all of the adults to care for the ade… All have wisdom to share.”

Skeptical, you thought: ‘What would I possibly teach them?’

You observed the Child resting so comfortably on Din’s chest— his tiny hand gripped tightly into Din’s clothes, right where his armor’s kar’ta beskar normally sat. It was a stark contrast compared to the Child’s behavior upon your first meeting. With any loud noises and sudden movements, he would shrink inwards in his cradle— as if he could make himself any smaller. Medical scanners made him grimace, unfamiliar places and people made his ears droop— seeing others upset made him wary. And yet, he was endlessly curious. Despite his initial unease with the two new adults in his life, the Child was quick to trust you both— and with his trust, his personality came through… his affection, his laughter, his love. 

From there, Din learned how to tend to someone outside of himself— what it meant to have someone that relied on him, and more colossally, someone that wanted Din, as he was. The Armorer branded him as the Child’s father, and the delighted squeal from the little one sealed the bond that Din had been trying to hide for so long. Just as the Child learned to trust Din with his welfare, so too did Din learn to trust the Child with his own mirjahaal.  

Perhaps it wasn’t the lessons they taught, but rather the connection they made, and the wisdom they sought.

With this, the true question then inverted from the skeptic ‘what would I teach them’, to the sanguine ‘what will I learn?’...

“...When do we meet them?”

—

To the ade, the former beroya is nothing more than a tall kurshi fit to climb. 

Somehow, Din appears endlessly patient and playful with all six of the young children. They utilize their limitless spurts of energy to continuously attack Din as a squad, bringing him to the ground— he’ll exclaim a faux wail, and collapse to his knees— and the collective giggles of the ade begin the cycle again. 

Whenever a child grows tired of their battle, they come to you— wanting to be tossed into the air, or onto the nearest surface. Supposedly being gently thrown around aids in their brain development, and ‘it’s good practice for their first sen’tra flight’, Din tells you. The logic is questionable at best, but hearing their joyous squeals makes the ever-growing muscle fatigue worthwhile. Even the child of the Djarin clan is as equally amused, his own little spirit mightily lifted by the experience of being with other kids again. 

During your time on Sorgan, the Child was happy to interact with the other children— but mostly, he watched them, rather than play. Perhaps he was still too shy or too wary to fully engage with so many people, but surrounded by these Foundlings now, he looks at home; like he belongs. Amidst this cohort, he’s made a new friend, Mara, the youngest of the lot. Her long and dark hair reminds you— and perhaps the Child— of Winta, Omera’s daughter. The two spent the most time together on Sorgan, and despite the little one’s inability to say, he misses her. 

Mara and the Child sit away from the squad play-fighting Din, in front of the single wall of volcanic tuff— embellished with crimps and pockets, graven by many hands. You watch them, as they examine the wall, looking up and down, side to side. Your eyes travel upward to the small cavate, almost eight feet from the floor. You watch as Mara looks to the Child and nods, and begins her ascent up— using her fingers and toes to grip tightly onto the various crevices in the wall— and the Child begins to follow.

You step forward, almost instinctively, wanting to call out to them to stop, wanting to reach out to the children to prevent a fall—

Then, from nowhere, Din appears at your side, extending his hand to stop you. “Don’t,” he says softly, “Let them try.”

You look at him puzzled, and he continues. “If you distract them now, they might fall…” he pauses, and turns his head to watch them, “...but if you allow them to focus, they can succeed. Watch…” 

The pair silently step closer, closing the distance between themselves and the wall, watching the two ade slowly make their way up to the cavate. Mara climbs inside first, and lays on her belly, reaching out to the Child to help him trek the final span of the wall. Once inside, the Child turns around, to face the entire room below him. He squeals a little clamor of excitement, proud of his triumph, before looking down to his buire.

“Good job, kid,” Din says. “Come on down, it’s time to go.”

The Child looks at you both doe-eyed, his ears drooping, as he peers over the ledge. He looks back to Mara, and back down over the ledge, contemplating his next move. 

You lean slightly towards Din, speaking in a hushed tone. “I don’t think he knows how to get back down.”

“He can do it,” Din says confidently. 

You challenge him, “He looks scared.” 

Din insists, “Then he’ll do it scared.” 

He steps forward once more, his body almost pressed against the wall, reaching one hand up. “Come on kid, climb down.”

The child’s ears droop even lower, letting out a quiet whimper, a little anxious look on his face. He looks back up to Mara, who gives him an encouraging “You can do it,” before he finally begins his descent towards you and Din. 

Carefully, his little clawed feet grip into the same pockets he used to climb up, and his hands hold onto the ledge. He looks down at his buire with a slightly quivering lip, then back up to his hands. Slowly, he presses on, his movements deliberate and cautious, gravity tugging at his little limbs with relentless persuasion, clammy clawed-hands threatening to slip free from the cold stone. His disgruntled babbling fading with each tentative step, footfalls growing more steady with every downward stride. 

His little foot finally reached something soft— the hand of his buir, waiting for his arrival. With an excited squeal, he looks to Din, holding out his clawed fingers for Din to grasp. Din takes the Child into his arms.

“Good job… I knew you could do it.” Din whispers to him.

With his ad in hand, Din looks back to the cavate, where Mara sits silently. “You too, Mara, come down,” he says. 

Mara, unlike the little one, is less graceful, only climbing down two feet of wall before leaping off. You instinctively reach your arms out to catch her, but are a few seconds too late, as she lands confidently on her feet, smiling up at you. She giggles, asking the Child “Wasn’t that fun!” and the little one cooing affectionately with a bright smile.

“They need to rest.” Din says, before leading Mara and the Child back with the other ade. You follow him in toe, and aid him while he attempts to settle the children in preparation for them to sleep. 

The chamber is bathed in the soft, warm light of the cressets along the walls. The ade sit and lay in a circle on the floor, looking up at the two adults expectedly, waiting for you both to join them. Din gently places the Child in Mara’s lap, seating himself amongst them. 

The ade demanded a story before they would agree to their midday nap, and with only one long sigh, Din relented. As you sit beside him, the tale of Akaanati'kar'oya begins.

—

In ages past, when cosmic realms were naught,

Two gods emerged, each with a purpose sought.

Kad Ha'rangir, embodiment of change,

A dance of growth, His essence did arrange.

Arasuum, the god of slow decay,

In stillness thrived, where life would fade away.

Eternal foes, in battle they engaged,

Ideals clashed, the cosmic script was paged.

Kad Ha'rangir, with eyes of vibrant light,

Envisioned galaxies in endless flight.

His very step, a ripple through the void,

Transforming all, where life and change enjoyed.

Arasuum, with eyes as deep as night,

Desired a realm where stasis held its might.

Decay His touch, a silent, withering breath,

A universe in stillness, touched by death.

In ceaseless clash, their cosmic struggle roared,

A dance of gods, where destinies were stored.

Stoic truths emerged from this grand design,

A tale of action, life's breath so divine.

"For action is the breath that life bestows,

A vital force, as mighty river flows.

Inaction, slow demise, a creeping shade,

A silent death in stillness' dark cascade."

Through galaxies and time, the story spread,

Of Kad Ha'rangir, where change was bred.

Arasuum's touch, a cautionary tale,

A realm in stillness, where all things frail.

So heed the moral, in verses spun,

That action is life, beneath the sun.

For inaction's grasp, a silent breath,

A slow demise, an encroaching death.

—

The ade rest together in a haphazard heap of limbs on various bedcovers and furs draped across the floor. Exhausted from their Beroya Battles and abseil adventures, they finally sleep, leaving the two adults to quietly watch over them together. In the chamber’s silent embrace, the air hangs heavy and chilled— a symphony of stillness envelops the room, broken by the muted shuffle of shifting bodies, and the hushed breaths of the ade. The only audible rhythm is that of the pulsating cadence of your own heartbeat and the rush of blood moving inside your head. 

Your eyes scan over the ade, finding a sense of calmness watching their steady breaths, in… out. 

In… out.

In… out.

Your gaze once again falls onto the Child, cuddled against Mara, also breathing steadily. In the gentle cradle of his friend’s arms, he looks peaceful. Had he ever slept this soundly on the Crest?... Who held him every night before us? Who will take care of him after us?

In the softest whisper, to not disturb the ade, you lean closer to Din, telling him the obvious— “He’s happy here.”

“...Yes,” Din replies, just as quietly. 

“Was this your experience, too? After the Mandalorians saved you?”

“No.”

His visor is trained on the little one’s sleeping face—the same face of a child who was once trapped in the suffocating darkness of a sealed cradle—a cage, a cage whose opening only revealed another prison, in the form of two bounty hunters hovering over him like… a B2 Battle Droid, with a blaster pointed in a child’s face. A child rescued from death at the last possible moment by a shiny warden, offering an adiaphorous detainment. 

“It was… a time of war. I was trained to fight in it. I hope… that they never have to.” Din says, his gaze scanning over the ade once more. 

“I thought all Mandalorians were warriors.”

He, too, believed the same notion for many years. Training from the day he was rescued to the day he became an adult, after his verd'goten, life became a perpetual streak of jobs. Commission, retrieval, payment. Commission, retrieval, payment… Until a strange, golden, aureate armorsmith joined his tribe, bringing tales of the “Great Forge of Mandalore,” and the songs of the artificers that echoed through the speos as they worked. He remembers the first time he kneeled in front of her small, austere forge, in a dark room beneath a busy market above, listening as she spoke of the ethos, the rites, the latria, the true way of the Mandalore. 

“No. Everyone is trained to survive. But… we used to live, too.” 

“...Until Mandalore was taken.”

“Yes.”

So'haale, urman'gedete, eparave, cyarir evaar'la, alii'aliit… A cultus he could only dream of, but never truly have. Spoken knowledge fades into whispers, slipping through his fingers like sand as the voices of the ancestors grow ever fainter. Each decampment a dissolution of tsad res publica, each step forward a battle against oblivion. 

“I’m sorry.” You lean over, resting your head on his pauldron. “...Maybe there’ll come a time when we’ll live in the light, on a planet that welcomes us.” 

Din knows that within every Mandalorian is a patchwork of unfamiliar faces and ever-changing landscapes, their solace and safety as elusive as a bes'ede itself—and yet they endlessly repugn the kandush they have faced time and time again, guided by the conviction that within the uncertainty of the cosmos lay the promise of a sanctuary forged from the resilience of their spirit. 

He tilts his head, resting it atop yours. “There will.”

Ali'nare vencuyanir yaim. This is the Way.   

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#din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #mando'a #original mandalorian character #shereshoy #shereshoy series #not my writing #i have permission to post this

[ladylovesloki]

Something Real

Pairings: Loki X Reader

Warnings: None yet

Summary: Reader is raising her twins in New Asgard, the sons of Loki. One night reader and her boys are having a fun Friday night when they get an unexpected guest.

I don’t know where this is going yet…we’ll find out together…🤷🏻‍♀️

“Vali! Momma said we need to finish our homework before we can play!”

Vali rolls his eyes at his twin brother, “relax Narfi, I’m just taking a little break.”

Narfi exhales and continues doing his work.

“Narfi! Vali! Are you guys done with your homework?” You yell from the kitchen where you are preparing dinner.

“Almost!” Vali responds back quickly getting back to doing his work. Narfi grinned at his brother and finished the remaining problems in his math homework.

“Done!” Narfi announces proudly, he packs up his books into his backpack and runs to the kitchen to claim his plate of food.

Vali once again rolls his eyes at his brother, over the little goody two shoes attitude. Vali was more prone towards mischief and having fun! Narfi was definitely a momma’s boy.

Vali finishes his work, puts away his things and heads towards the kitchen to wait for dinner.

Narfi was filling his plate and Vali apparently didn’t feel like waiting so he used his developing magical ability to get his serving so he didn’t have to wait.

“Hey!” Narfi yelps.

“Vali, how many times do I have to tell you? No magic in the house. You remember what happened last week don’t you?” You ask exasperated.

“I’m sorry mom, I’m starving! You know how much I love your lasagna..” boy gets his flattery from his father.

“Mmhhm..come on boys sit down and eat.”

The three of them sit down at the dinner table and have idle talk about their day. The boys talked about how school was and what they were learning, any assignments they have due. Narfi was excelling in his studies of course, the boy loved to read and he absorbed all of it like a sponge. Vali was doing well enough in school, he loved his physical activities and magic school. Thank goodness for New Asgard, if not for the remaining Asgardians she would have no idea how to raise such magical children. 

Also the idea of them being alone terrified you, they had such a long lifespan and with Loki gone..you were the only parent they had left and you had maybe 60 more years left if you’re lucky. Thor usually came around to help with the twins, they were the only family he had left and you knew he would always be there for them.

You loved those boys. They were a piece of Loki. The only piece of Loki left.

You met when he tried taking over Earth, he was enamored by you and when he was posing as Odin he brought you to Asgard to be with him there. You knew it was wrong but you fell in love with him and Odin was an asshole. The last time you saw him he was shoving you onto the escape pod with his people when you were all escaping Ragnarok. He tricked you into believing he was going to escape with you but in the last moment he shoved you forward and closed the door behind you. 

You screamed for them to open the doors and slammed your hands against them. The people inside the pod grabbed you so they can strap you in and all you could do is stare at Loki while he looked sadly at you through the window. Tears were falling down his face and once he saw that you were safely strapped in your seat with the rest of the people he pressed the release so the pod can fly off the doomed vessel.

To this day you hear yourself screaming for him in your dreams.

You found out you were pregnant shortly after you arrived on Earth.

At first you were devastated, you wanted Loki to be here with you. You weren’t supposed to do this alone. But then you saw it as a blessing, a part of him will live on. And then you found out you were having twins, Thor was so happy he burst into tears. 

The birth was tough, they had never seen a jotun/human hybrid before so the healers didn’t know what to expect. Luckily Thor asked for the assistance of Pepper Potts and she was able to get the best doctors that were still there after the snap. They worked alongside Asgards remaining healers and delivered your twins successfully.

Years went on and then after the Avengers defeated Thanos, Thor took some time to travel around the universe. The boys were older and they were starting to go to school, you made sure to teach them your Earth customs while they were also living in New Asgard surrounded by Asgardians learning their culture as well.

The boys are now going on 8 years old and are currently in the 3rd grade. They have their math, science, social studies and language arts classes but they also have seidr lessons. Another trait that they inherited from their father and they almost destroyed your house on multiple occasions. Never on purpose of course, most of the time it would be completely random. You didn’t know anything about magic so you asked one of the Asgardian healers at work and she recommended one of the old seidr teachers that survived Ragnarok. 

So now twice a week after their other classes, they have their seidr lessons.

They know who their dad is. You explained to them about what happened in New York, how he was controlled by Thanos, you didn’t tell them how he died..maybe when they were older. You did make sure that they knew he would’ve loved them desperately. And you know he would have, you just hope you are raising them the way he would’ve wanted.

You all finish your meals, “alright guys, you wanna watch a movie or have a game night?” It was Friday night so no need to be up early the next day for school and being Prince Loki’s baby momma has its perks, like not working on the weekends…

Narfi looks at you, “can we go outside and make s’mores?”

You nod, “sure baby we can do that..Vali? You ok with that or did you want to do something else?”

He shakes his head and leans back in his chair, his eyes trained on the ceiling, “no, s’mores sounds good. Just gimmie a minute, I’m stuffed..”

You giggle at his silliness, “alright boys, help me clean up here and we can go outside and get the s’mores started.”

They help you clean up after dinner and collect all of the items for their s’mores, you get outside with some blankets just in case you get cold. The boys of course never get cold..

You start the fire in the small pit you have in your backyard and hand the boys their tools for s’mores. 

You are about to get started roasting and then you see an orange door pop up out of nowhere on the other side of the backyard.

You stand up and make sure the boys are behind you, you get your phone ready to call Val just in case.

You wait a moment and then out steps Loki.

He’s wearing a dirty button up, a tie and slacks. His short hair a mess and he’s covered in bruises and cuts.

He looks at you for a moment, “y/n?”

“What the hell is this?” You ask breathlessly.

“Mom?” You hear Narfi behind you sounding so small and afraid.

You turn and look at the twins, “go inside and lock the door, do not come out until you hear my or Aunt Val’s voice. Understand?”

Vali stands tall, “no mom, we’re not leaving. Is that….?…”

“I don’t know who that is baby, but it is not your father.” You try to calm him.

“I beg your pardon? Did you just say father?” You hear Loki ask behind you.

You turn around, “You..You don’t talk!”…you say sharply to him.

He holds his hands up in surrender, his eyebrows raised at the tone of your voice.

“Mom…that’s dad..”

“No baby, it’s not. Your dad died, I wouldn’t lie to you about that.”

“How can you say that?! He’s standing right there!”

“Vali, let me talk to him alone and see what this is about.”

“No, we talk to him together.” He insists.

“No Vali, he could be dangerous..”

He ignores you and looks to Loki.

“Are you my dad?”

Loki looks uncomfortable, “I…It’s hard to explain.”

“We have time it’s not a school night.”

“Vali! Go inside with your brother.”

“No! You lied to us. You just wanted to keep us from him!”

“No baby, I promise you. Let me talk to him, when I know it’s safe you and your brother can ask all of the questions you want.”

Vali looks at you and then looks at Loki.

“Don’t hurt my mom.”

“Loki holds up his hands again, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Vali takes Narfi by the shoulders and leads him inside, no doubt to sit by the window and keep a close eye on the two adults outside.

You watch them close the door and you turn your gaze to Loki.

“Who are you?”

“I am Loki, though not the Loki you knew. I am from a different timeline.”

“Ok..and what are you doing here?”

“As I said..it’s hard to explain.”

“Well like my son said, it’s not a school night…I have the time.”

“Are they truly my…your Loki’s children?”

You take a moment to think about how you should answer him, he could still be an imposter just wanting to hurt you and take your powerful children. You can imagine the children of Loki would sell for a high price.

“Yes.”

“And he died?”

“Yes, Thanos…” you clear the lump in your throat and try to hold back your tears, “Thanos killed him on his way to Earth. What are you doing here?”

“I am looking for a new timeline to call home, you see my timeline no longer exists. I have no home, I have been traveling to different timelines to find one where I can assimilate myself into. So far this is the only one that seems like it would fit my needs.”

“Your needs? And what would your needs be?”

“Peace. I just want peace.”

“So you choose a timeline where you have kids? You sure you don’t want to search some more?”

“No, please..they seem…wonderful. What family do I have left in this timeline?”

“Umm..your brother is still alive..that’s it.”

“Ah..I was hoping I found one where mother might’ve survived..”

“This is crazy, why should I believe any of this?”

He takes a few steps towards you closing the distance, “I remember you from New York, you tried desperately to save me, to reach to my humanity. To be honest with you whenever you were around the Other’s influence was less effective. The last I remember of you, I had left you at your home far away from the city to keep you safe. I promised you I would come for you after my victory.”

“Yea well you lost and went to Asgard and then you came and got me like 2 years later. We lived on Asgard together for a while and then when Ragnarok happened we all came here..well you died on the way..”

“Yes. Thanos..he..he his dead on this timeline now yes?” He asks nervously.

“Yea he’s dead, thanks to the Avengers and then some.”

He breathes in relief, “good…good.”

You take a good look at him and he looks disheveled, “did you want to come inside and get some water?”

“Yes, water would be lovely, thank you.”

You make your way to the house and you hear the sound of the boys running from the window, probably getting into a position to make it look like they weren’t watching them from the window.

“Boys? You can come out..”

You see them walk out of Vali’s room hand in hand.

“Ok guys..this is a lot to take in..I’m not even sure if I understand it to be honest..come sit and I’ll explain.”

The twins sit down and you tell them what Loki told you, “so you see guys, your father, from our timeline did die. This Loki is from a different one where you guys don’t exist yet.”

Narfi finally finds his voice, “so this daddy doesn’t love you?”

You look over at Loki and he again had a very uncomfortable look on his face, “no baby, this Loki doesn’t love me.”

He looks down sadly, “oh..”

You lift up Narfi’s face with your finger, “what’s wrong baby?”

His blue eyes fill with tears and he sniffles, “I was hoping that this daddy would stay with us and we can be a family…but if he doesn’t love you then he won’t want to stay..”

Loki kneels in front of Narfi, “oh my boy, I have to learn my place here in this time, I wish to spend as much time with you two as I can..if that’s alright?”

Loki looks over to you, silently asking permission. You look over at the twins and they have the same look on their little faces. Spitting images of their father.

“It’s getting late, we’ll talk more about all of this in the morning.”

“But mooommm!” Vali let’s out a wine, “but mom nothing, you guys are up way later than usual. Come on go brush your teeth and get in bed.”

“Fiiinnee..” they both walk over to you and give you a hug and a kiss.

Narfi walks over to Loki and puts out his hand, Loki looks down at it and then takes Narfi’s little hand in his giving it a little shake.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too Narfi.” Loki looks over to Vali, “and you as well Vali, I am glad to see your mother has a strong protector in her home.”

Vali doesn’t say anything, just looks at Loki suspiciously and reaches for Narfi’s hand. “Come on Narfi, let’s get ready for bed.”

The twins leave you and Loki in the living room and you look over at Loki, “hungry?”

He thinks a moment, “actually yes..”

“Ok, I’ll fix you a plate.” You get up and go to the kitchen, you grab some of the left over lasagna and warm it up. As you’re getting his meal ready, Loki walked into the kitchen and watched you work.

You place his plate on the table and pull out the chair, “your meal your highness.”

He laughs and you are hit was a pang of sadness, you missed Loki so much, but this isn’t your Loki.

He sits down and starts to eat, “this is delicious!”

You giggle, “thank you. You can sleep in the guest room, it used to be Thor’s old room so you might find some of his things in there still.”

He all of a sudden looks upset.

“Ah, so even the woman that bore my children was enamored by my brother. Tell me. Did you immediately jump into my brothers bed after my death or did you wait until my body was cold at least?”

“You don’t get to do that. You have no idea what it has been like. Your brother was all we had after you died. I have never, will never sleep with Thor. I haven’t been able to sleep with anyone since you died. I can’t stop seeing your eyes when I close mine, your laugh, your smile..your death broke me Loki, if I wasn’t pregnant with the boys….”

You dry your eyes and stand up from the dinner table, “the bathroom is down the hall, last door on the right. The guest room is next door to it, you can use that for now while we try to get ahold of your brother to figure out what we’re going to do from here.”

You don’t say anything else and you don’t give him the opportunity to say anything, you just turn around and leave towards your room.

You get to your room and close the door, you rest your back against it and slide down, tears streaming down your face. This was too much. How were you going to do this?

Knock Knock Knock

“Y/n” you hear Loki’s voice on the other side.

“What?”

“Can we speak? Please?”

You dry your face once again, stand up and open the door.

You see Loki, looking down in shame.

“I’m sorry y/n. I had no right. You are absolutely correct, I have no idea what it was like for you after my…his death. I am thankful my brother stayed and helped you with the twins, it’s what I would expect of my family.”

You look up at him and finally meet his gaze, “thank you for your apology Loki, I forgive you. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, we’ll talk more ok?”

“Yes. Until then.”

He turns and walks down the hall, you close the door again and get ready for bed. Anxious for what tomorrow is going to bring.

#loki #loki fanfiction #loki x reader #loki fanfic #loki x female reader #loki x y/n #imagine loki #loki x you #loki smut #loki imagine #jotun loki #loki fluff #loki god of mischief #mcu loki #loki odinson #god of mischief #loki season one #narfi and vali #narfi #vali #lokisons #eventual happy ending #eventual romance #eventual smut #eventual relationship #tva #marvel multiverse

[spacelazarwolf]

On top of the sickening racism why is anon assuming that like. Only .5 percent of trans women can actually pass?? Like buddy that is trans-misogynistic

i see this sentiment a lot from people who aren't trans women but think they're protecting trans women where they'll be like "well trans men have it better because they always completely and totally pass as cisgender men and never have to experience being clocked, unlike trans women who are doomed to live a perpetual life of clockability and misery because nothing they do will ever be able to make them look like real cis women!!!!!!!!" like i cannot imagine what it's like to be a trans woman and see something like that constantly.

there are trans women who pass!!!! and that is a beautiful thing!! there are so many things you can do if you want to pass that aren't just estrogen and vocal feminization techniques, like get laser hair removal or facial feminization surgery or bottom surgery or body feminization or there's even surgeries for your vocal mechanism that can make your voice higher! obviously these things are not accessible to everyone, some of them still don't have a lot of research and history behind them which is common of most trans related procedures, and not everyone wants them and that's okay! but i am really sick of ppl who claim to be advocating for trans femmes falling face first into straight up te/rf logic around the bodies of people who were assigned male at birth and went through a testosterone dominant puberty. passing is not a necessity, but it is also not completely and utterly unattainable if it's something you want.

#ask avishai

[thepaintedlady00]

The Sandman and The Girl Without Dreams

Chapter One: The Man in the Glass Cage

I'd never dreamed. Not truly - not in the sense that everyone else seemed to. When I slept I was cocooned in darkness, neither too hot nor too cold, neither wet nor dry, it simply was. It wasn't unpleasant at least not for a while, not compared to the constant noise and demands of reality, but it always felt hollow like something was missing.

"Dreams are for the lower class," my father had always stated if I'd ever dared ask.

My mother however soft spoken she was would assure me that everyone had dreams and that I just needed to find mine. "The Sandman never forgets a dreamer. You'll find them, just you wait."

The Sandman as it turned out was, on the off chance he was real, a forgetful ass. Years had passed and still the empty darkness was all I had to cling to. And after so long in that dark cocoon I stopped wishing for dreams and instead wished for an end to the nightmare of waking.

My family was one of class and sophistication, which in turn meant I was expected to uphold that reputation. We Barlows have our enterprise, and an enterprise leashed to a poor family name is doomed from the start! Ridged and unmoving, my father exlected nothing short of perfection and callosness. The minor issue with that was I had absolutely no interest in playing the quiet and loathing role assigned to me at birth. I wanted to see things, meet people, experience all that life had to offer. Perhaps it was my kind nature that led down the path or perhaps it was something more... Something far beyond my understanding. Whatever it was had brought me here, standing among the crowd of the Burgess estate trying to ignore the odd sensation office impeding dread that filled me when I looked up at the mansion.

It had become quite the hotspot for those seeking a good party, as well as those curious about Roderick Burgess' mystic cult. I was here for neither. My father had been a friend to Roderick for years and though he wasn't as boastful about it, practiced the same cultist bullshit that he did. The two had a falling out of some kind when Alex, Roderick's youngest son, and I were children, which led to the current stalemate between them. But, in spite of their bad blood Alex and I remained close. I often snuck out and found my way to the woods just outside the mansion, where Alex and I would read and play games together.

It was Alex that brought me to the large party. In our recent conversations he seemed reserved, like there was something bugging him that he could just never get out. So, I asked him if he wanted company at his fathers latest gathering and he'd said yes. And, ever the good friend, here I was dressed in a simple, comfortable gown trying to find the boy among the large unruly crowd.

I was finally able to spot Alex hiding in the doorway, so I'd hopped past everyone and startled him with a light tug on his ear. He of course rolled his eyes and ushered me through the door, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "Penelope! Its about time you showed up! I thought you'd abandon me to be eaten by these people!"

"Such a dramatic!" I teased. "If I left you with this lot I'd be a truly terrible friend."

With a wide boyish smile he waved his families butler off and nudged my shoulder. "Go have fun for a bit, my father has me holding the door to keep the uninvited out. Something about responsibility."

I hummed softly. "You are rather irresponsible."

"Says you," he retorted judging my shoulder.

"Don't be too long, responsible Alex, or I'll be the one that becomes the meal."

As soon as we parted ways I gravitated toward the least crowded part of the room, a long hallway off to the side of the main space close to a door that always had two guards standing in front of it. I'd asked about it once, back before our fathers parted ways, but after getting a rough dismissal from Alex decided it best not to bring up again. In all the years that had passed I'd always been tempted to ask again, but never did in fear of causing Alex more stress than his father already did.

I watched the party goers dance, drink and drug themselves into a stupor, pretending to be happy. All just one large facade, I thought to myself. Growing up among this kind of crowd I had quite the knack for seeing through ones outward expressions. I'd gotten so good Alex and I made a game of it at the rare occasion we both attended events such as these.

"How are you so good at this?" he'd ask.

I'd shrug. "If I could teach you my ways, young Alex I would, but alas it appears there can only be one of us destined for greatness."

When Alex finally came in from outside he had seemingly forgotten about me as he led a fair haired woman through the crowd and towards the office where his father always was during his parties. It didn't take a genius to know what the woman's intentions were. There had been plenty like her and would be plenty after her, but it saddened me, seeing the lengths Alex would go to earn his fathers approval, something I'd long figure out was not possible. No matter how hard he tried, no matter what he did or accomplished Alex would never be his brother, never the child his father wanted him to be.

I was seconds away from leaving my little corner to catch up to him, seconds away from possibly avoiding the torment whatever powers that were had waiting for me on this path. But, when one of the older, more prestigious guests fell to the ground and started convulsing, likely from too much of whatever drug they'd been passing around, the two guards beside the door fled their post calling out for more help, which brought two more men clamoring up the basement stairs to aid them. Leaving the door wide open.

My curiosity was a powerful beast, but the odd sensation that curled within my chest as I looked at the forbidden door was even more so. It felt like I'd entered a daze... One that felt like what I always imagined dreaming would feel like, as my legs carried me through the door and down the dark steps. The basement was damp and dark, smelling like moss and old cigars with little light that was dim compared to that of the large glowing glass sphere that hung in the center of the large space. The feeling in my chest amplified, no longer a small curl but now a harsh pull that carried me closer and closer to the glass where a pair of dark, star filled eyes watched me. The horrified disgust that filled me at the sight of a man trapped behind the glass in my best friends basement was fleeting as I was quickly consumed with the man himself.

To say he was beautiful would have been a gross understatement. He was otherworldly, ethereal, I had never seen anyone like him. His raven hair contrasted against the paleness of his lithe figure as he sat ridgedly within the center of the cage, not a single piece of clothing on him or anywhere in sight. He watched me with a stoic expression, if one could even call it that, on his angular face. But, his eyes betrayed him, filled with a confusion that matched my own.

"What..." My voice was little more than a whisper as I inched closer to the glass. "What the hell?"

He said nothing and made no move to plead for my help, he simply sat, watching me warily. The pull became nearly unbearable the longer I looked into his eyes. Lifting my hand toward the glass the man seemed to mirror the gesture. The cold glass met the tips of my fingers as I flattened my hand against it. His hand slid into place beneath mine and for a moment the pull stopped and air filled my lungs as a false sense of relief filled me. That relief didnt last long.

Pain exploded across my palm, burning hotter or maybe colder than anything I'd ever felt, pulsing all the way from my hand to my shoulder. It felt as if a knife was carving and flaying my skin from my bone. My head swam with images and voices that I didn't recognize and a raw ache filled my throat. It took me a minute to realize the ache was a result of the screaming I'd been doing. The room filled with people shouting and trying to pull me away from the glass, but my hand stayed locked in place.

A voice thundered over all the others, speaking words I couldn't understand. A force pushed me and everyone behind me away from the glass and onto the cold, wet ground. My ears rang as my vision cleared enough for me to see Alex hunched over me, holding on tight as I shook. He looked at my arm and his brows furrowed, looking up at the man in the glass and in a distant voice demanded, "What did you do to her?!"

No answer. He didn't even look at Alex, his eyes instead stayed fixed on me. Still shaking I lifted my arm, eyes raking over the raised skin that formed an odd symbol on the inside of my wrist. A strangled cry bubbled up from my chest a noise that I could have sworn made the mans jaw tighten.

"What is the meaning of this?" Roderick yelled, shoving past his guards. His eyes examined the cage first before they turned to me. With no warning he snatched my arm up to look at the mark, earning another bout of burning and in turn another scream from my already dry throat. The man in the cage stood, dark eyes boring into Roderick, who in turn met his gaze with a smile.

He let go of my arm abruptly, sending me back into Alexs waiting arms. Moving with a confident stride he stood in front of the glass. "Send everyone home."

"Father she needs medical attention." Alex's voice sounded desperate.

"She'll live. Now get upstairs and send our guests home." Roderick replied coldly. Hesitantly Alex rose to his feet, bending to lift me up before his fathers cane slapped his arm. "Leave her!"

"But father..."

"I said, leave her."

My eyes pleaded with my friends as I tried to hold on to him tighter. "Alex..."

Still he pulled away with a mumbled apology as he disappeared up the stairs. The noise began to blur into echoes of unintelligible words as I started to fade in and out of consciousness. A cold, bitting sensation encompassed my uninjured wrist, draping a weight across me as I curled up into myself, desperate for warmth. The last thing I could make out was the blurred image of the man in the glass cage watching me with glistening silver in his eyes before the all too familiar darkness took me.

#the sandman #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless #morpheus x reader #morpheus fanfiction #netflix sandman #dream of the endless x reader

[gatheringbones]

[“When it comes to explaining why you need the right to live the way you do, that you feel uncomfortable with yourself, that you need to alleviate a pain deeply lodged in you, that’s easy to explain quickly and simply. Everyone has been hurt emotionally in their lives, and it’s easy to understand why you would want to take steps to avoid that discomfort.

Beyond that, even, the media plays a part in that framing of the trans narrative. If you want people to feel sympathy for the trans community, explain we’re escaping dysphoria. If you want to demonise the community, tell people our dysphoria is a delusion and shouldn’t be indulged. It can be spun differently depending on who’s trying to spin it, which makes it a powerful aspect of the way trans stories are so often portrayed.

I know I, as a trans person, fall into this trap sometimes when discussing my own transition. When I wrote my memoir a few years ago, sure, it touched on some positives and joyful moments, but that certainly wasn’t the focus. I wrote a lot about not fitting in growing up, about struggling to be accepted when I came out, and I wrote about the challenges I am facing in the world today. It made sense to share those parts of my story with the world, but it also got me thinking about how prevalent that narrative can be when discussing trans stories.

Over the couple of years since then, I have thought a lot about the importance of celebrating the fact that stories of transition are not all just about doom and gloom, as much as it may sometimes feel that way. I’ve experienced countless moments of elation, pride, confidence, freedom and ecstasy as a direct result of my coming out as a trans woman the better part of a decade ago, and I know I am not alone.

When I talk to my trans, non-binary, agender, gender-fluid and intersex friends, I have heard countless wonderful stories about the ways that coming to terms with gender brought unimaginable happiness and love into their lives. When I said earlier that gender dysphoria isn’t a required part of being trans, I meant it. When I say that, sometimes people ask me how someone would know they were trans, if not for feeling uncomfortable with their body and the way they were born. And to that, I say the answer is simple. If you try presenting yourself as something other than your birth-assigned gender, and it makes you feel euphoric, that’s just as valid a reason to claim your identity as escaping dysphoria. Gender euphoria is an equally valid reason to decide who you are.”]

from gender euphoria: stories of joy from trans non-binary and intersex writers, edited by Laura Kate Dale, 2021

#laura kate dale #gender stuff #currently reading #trans literature

[rabidbatboy]

FLAGS LIST

🥊 GENDERS

ANIMAL ; thingmutt , traumamutt , minecraftbattic , batfreak , pigfreak , pigbitch , muttfreak , taxidermbatial

HORROR ; scenegirlvampial/sceneboyvampial , ghostfaceplushic/mimyersplushic , werebatthing , woundbeartrapic , jigsawpigapprentic , deaditechainsawic , faithgoric , jigsawpigplushic

BOY/GIRL ; boymutt/girlmutt , werebatboy/werebatgirl , holyboy/holygirl , dirtbagteenboy/dirtbagteengirl , stinkboy/stinkgirl , goreboy/goregirl , frankenboy/frankengirl , weaponboy/weapongirl , butcherboy/butchergirl , roachboy/roachgirl , psychoboy/psychogirl , autocanniboy/autocannigirl

OTHER ; dirtbagteenic , rockstarscientist/kaijuscientist , boygirlvillain , transsexual man/woman , falseprophetic , unholyprophetic , firstrulequotic , tylersgonequotic , fathersbailquotic

🥊 ORIENTATIONS

LESBIAN ; man eating lesbian , reverse beartrap lesbian , mutt lesbian , doomed-by-the-narrative lesbian , mutt butch/mutt femme , mutt futch , soapshipping lesbian

GAY ; man eating gay , bipolar gay , doomed-by-the-narrative gay , bat (twink) , mean twink , werewolf fag , horror fag , evil twink , mutt fag , dogboy twink/puppyboy twink , bat fag , pathetic twink , faggot transsexual , twink transsexual , evil fag , pretty twink , soapshipping gay

BISEXUAL ; girl-crazy bi/boy-crazy bi

ID4ID ; riddler4batman/batman4riddler , bat4bat , joker4batman/batman4joker , superman4batman/batman4superman

🥊 GENDER SYSTEMS

GENDERLABRAT ; boylabrat/girllabrat , experimentlabrat , scientistlabrat , subjectlabrat , vamplabrat , deadlabrat

GENDERHAUNTED ; priesthaunted

🥊 OTHER

BPD ; jekhydebpd , lycanbpd

BIPOLAR ; bipolar gay

NEOAGABS ; assigned freak at birth , assigned riddle at birth , assigned lycan at birth , assigned enigma at birth

ALTERHUMAN ; transspecies raccoon , transspecies bat , transspecies werebat , transspecies weremutt , vigilante archetrope , unreliable narrator archetrope , gotham rogue archetrope , mad scientist archetrope , loser protagonist archetrope , false prophet archetrope , jigsaw apprentice archetrope , hunt/hunt avatar kin , miscechiropter , pack dynamics , colony dynamics

PLURAL ; slasher system , horror system

#mogai #mogai flag #xenogender #flag coining #mogai coining #mogai term #mogai gender #xeno coining #liom coining #liom gender #liom term

[bluedalahorse]

Young Royals and the divine disruption of eros

Young Royals enthusiasts have a lot to say about the nature of love (specifically eros, or romantic and/or sexual love) in the show’s universe. Usually they identify an element of the divine in the love we see onscreen. The show itself nods to this with soundtrack choices like Elias’s “Holy” and through some of the imagery and filming choices. (Someone else can probably speak to that better than I can, and probably already has.)

But what does it mean, that love/eros has an element of the divine? Is divinity always benevolent, or kind? Does it always encourage someone toward more compassionate behavior? In a Christian context, we usually think of “love” as being associated with moral goodness, or at least a kind of selflessness or compassion. As a former classics major, however, I can’t help but look at YR’s divine eros through the lens of the ancient Mediterranean myth and folklore. Here, the divine is more a force of nature, and far more morally neutral.

Some background: in the ancient sources Greek gods and goddess are less like immortal, superpowered humanoid beings, and more like abstract and/or natural concepts personified. In Greek mythology, Aphrodite is the divine figure most associated with eros, and she is a powerful and at times vengeful goddess who should not be underestimated. Modern sources (and even a few ancient sources) tend to downplay or soften her influence—leaning into this idea of a beautiful goddess playing matchmaker for lonely individuals—but even when she’s bringing companionship into a person’s life, she’ll still shake things up in the process. The Trojan War begins because Paris chooses Aphrodite’s realm as his definition of beauty/excellence, and Aphrodite sets Paris and Helen’s relationship in motion.

What makes Aphrodite—and by extension, eros—so dangerous is that she is so disruptive to the social order. Marriages in the ancient Mediterranean tended to be arranged, and while eros certainly did exist within some of those marriages, it wasn’t a guarantee at all. You may well develop feelings for someone other than your spouse, and what if that destabilizes your marriage? You could also develop feelings for someone who makes you behave outside your assigned gender or class expectations, and then you aren’t fulfilling your class role, which causes a breakdown in the social hierarchy. Being in love may be euphoric, especially if the person you love loves you back and you’re of compatible social ranks, but it may also be unbearable if circumstances don’t work out for you. Unchecked eros can even lead to the birth of monsters, such as when Aphrodite dooms the Minoan queen Pasiphae to fall in love with a bull, which then eventually leads to Pasiphae giving birth to the Minotaur. Look at any selection of poems from the ancient Mediterranean and you’ll find as many poems cursing love as praising it.

And one of the wildest things about eros? Nothing about it is rational. People may try to rationalize their feelings of eros later, or come up with why they like a person… but feelings just are what they are. Actions can have a rational component, and an element of agency. You can technically control your actions. Still, feelings do not operate in the same way, and feelings are always trying to influence actions. Part of the reason it is important to respect Aphrodite is that she can always get you and hijack your heart when you least expect it. (Unless you’re aromantic I guess, which. Hooray exceptions?)

Let’s bring it back to the Swedish show. I think often, people want to talk about the wilmon and sargust pairings as being as far apart from one another on the spectrum as can be. I’ve even seen the idea thrown around that wilmon’s eros is the Most Real while sargust’s is Less Real, and while I get where that argument is coming from, I also don’t necessarily agree with it myself. On my end, when I look at love/eros in Young Royals as defined first and foremost not by moral goodness but by its power to disrupt, these two pairings feel very alike to me and deeply thematically connected. Moreover, they are equally exciting to watch play out onscreen. Each of the four characters involved develops feelings that conflict with something about who this character is as a person and the social role they hold. Each character at times resists their feelings and at other times gives in. Sometimes both characters give into their feelings together! (Those parts of the story are often gif’d and reblogged by tumblr, at least on the wilmon side of things.) You can also learn a lot about each character by how they deal with the disruptive power of eros, and what they allow eros to disrupt—ultimately, August tries to exert control over his romancey situation with Sara and make it fit his concept of the social order, and disrupts the well-being of the Eriksson family in the process. Wilhelm, meanwhile, is willing to challenge the structures of the monarchy and his own family because of his relationship with Simon. There’s also a lot of twists and turns along the way for each of them that are enjoyable to watch.

There’s a tendency in fandom to hold wilmon as a sort of Fixed And Unquestionable Religious Truth Of The Young Royals Universe, and I get why. There’s also a sort of tendency to see sargust as the devil to wilmon’s god, and again, I get why folks feel that way too. For me, though, I don’t really feel that way, in part because I see both pairings as equally subject to the divine nature of eros, and eros is something that is dynamic and morally neutral and constantly in flux and most of all, disruptive. I like that both pairings are a little chaotic and capable of making me feel a range of things, even if I always do come out of a YR marathon exhausted because of it. Eros is disruptive the way that war and revolution are disruptive, and sometimes they’re all happening at once, and in the end it makes a pretty good story.

Anyway, if you’re wondering, one of my favorite Greek plays is Hippolytus by Euripides, and Aphrodite is pretty terrifying there. I find her power to disrupt and destroy fascinating. And that’s probably why, against the expectations of my mlm slash-loving younger teenage self, I’m going to be writing fic about these trash-tragic horsey heteros for as long as this fandom exists and I feel compelled to do so. No apologies about that, really. You’ll all just have to put up with me.

#young royals #my meta #wilmon #sargust #me opining with my classics hat on again #the classics part of this meta is somewhat oversimplified but if you want to talk one on one i can really dig deep

[wickedheadache]

I'm obsessed with Regina's belief system. The way she trusts in magic and fate and pixie dust even though these are systems that have repeatedly failed her. How she keeps wishing upon stars despite having every single one her wishes ignored. How she trusts blindly in Robin despite having had just met him because he was assigned to her as her soulmate by fate itself. She scoffs at Snow's blind faith while in the same breath she still dares to hope that by following the same magical system she'll finally get a chance at happiness. Without Regina, Snow wouldn't believe in happy endings and true love at all. Regina's the original believer. Cursed from birth by magic, prays to be rescued by magic, yet doomed because of it her entire life.

#ouat rewatch #ouat s3 ep16 #me #once upon a time #regina mills

[radiatingsoul]

I think a big thing wrt Marina and Samarie is that I think you can only really read Marina as transgender within the context of her existing in relation to Samarie. Like even though she is assigned male at birth Marina is by all intents and purposes a cisgender women, and everyone around her reads her as such with the exception of Samarie. Marina is like not only a woman but a sort of idealized, essential woman, and yet she's sort of doomed to be followed by Samarie, who is in of herself a "perversion" of womanhood but is also a cisgender woman who seeks to, in a sense, remove Marina's womanhood by subsuming her into herself.

It's similar to how Enki is this sort of weird conditionally respected androgynous-via-social-class figure in contrast to Nosramus who is a sort of mythologized "true androgyne". Marina is an enigma but fits organically into the role of womanhood irregardless of the question of her origin, Samarie is a woman by virtue of rigid mechanized understanding of gender but fundamentally incompatible with idealized womanhood. As singular characters they have no real ties to transfemininity but as a pair they are a sort of "complete" trans woman.

#fear and hunger

[kiryoutann]

Before reading, please check series masterlist to read the warning(s), disclaimer, and to make sure you’re on the right chapter. Minors do NOT interact.

An oracle does not dream.

News of the birth of the Liyue imperial family's second child reached not far beyond the high walls of the palace. Under the eclipse of the sun outside, a princess was born and wrapped in a blanket after the blood was cleaned from her body.

"It's a princess, Your Majesty!"

Carrying her child in her arms, the Empress then turned to the so-called oracle. He had been the one to recite fortune-telling on the fortunes of the imperial family's newborn babies, a tradition they had passed down each time there was a new addition to the family. Under her gaze, the person advanced toward the newborn princess.

His hand rested on the forehead of the still crying baby. He closed his eyes, his lips pursed into incoherent words that could either be spells or prayers to bless the newborn. They waited for the oracle to say his prediction.

As soon as he opened his eyes, he had an expression that the Empress hated so much. He lowered his hands, tucked them into the sleeves of his traditional hanfu while holding back his silence. His eyes glanced at the newborn for a while as if composing a sentence before saying something he didn't expect would bring him to his doom.

"From my prediction, the Princess will go through many misfortunes during her lifetime, Your Majesty." He said quietly.

However, from the silence of the room, those who were still there could hear him even though he tried to hide it. They gasped, whispering about how he dared to say that. Even if he hadn't lied, he should have saved his life—because now, Her Majesty's glare landed on him.

"What did you say?" The Empress wasn't asking for a repeat but, a last chance at life for him.

The oracle bit his lower lip, "..the Princess will have misfortune—"

"How dare you to wish my newborn daughter such bad things!" Her loud voice echoed, not caring if she made her baby cry worse.

"N-no! That's not it, Your Majesty! I was just relaying my prediction!"

Whatever his defense was, it was too late as the Empress only saw red. There was nothing she wanted but this oracle to be dragged and hung from his tongue. With one flick of her finger, the guard guarding the corner of the room carried out her orders.

The Princess' first misfortune was the death of someone from talking about her.

Not only was the Empress reluctant to accept the prophecy of the dead oracle, she was also reluctant to admit that it had influenced her mind. Therefore, once a week her daughter named (Y/N) gets a ritual that is believed to wash away her sins and misfortunes—at least until it is proven that the prophecy could not be further from the truth.

At an age when you can string enough sentences to communicate with other people, you begin to tell the dream you had after sleeping. Which, coincidentally or not, always came true soon after.

You proved something about yourself.

One night, the old oracle came by order of Emperor Sile. The guard assigned to pick him up immediately took him to the room where you and your parents were waiting. He greets, then glances at you sitting at the end of his bed and notices something.

"Congratulations, Your Majesties! The Princess is definitely an oracle with the ability to see the future!" He said loudly.

Emperor Sile raised his eyebrows, turning to his wife as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "The ability to see the future?"

"That's right, Your Majesty. Her Highness has been blessed by the gods and is entrusted with this ability."

The Empress brought her daughter closer to her, "So, the dream she was telling me all along was actually the future she managed to see?"

The old oracle nodded, "That's right, Your Majesty," He looked up, "or if I may say so, oracle doesn't have the ability to dream like an ordinary human."

Hearing this, the Empress let out a scoff while stroking the top of your head. "And that dead oracle dared to say that my (Y/N)’s life would be full of misfortune." She said triumphantly. If possible, your mother would like to spit in his face.

After the old oracle left the room, the Emperor knelt down to align his face with yours. The color of your beautiful eyes that glittered in the pale moonlight, one of the features you inherited from your mother besides the color of her hair. He thinks its unfair that none of his children inherit his black hair, luckily Shiva got his eyes.

"You hear that, Baobei? You are an oracle. You will predict everything about this empire and lead us to another century of our glory."

You bit your finger which was then gently brushed away by your mother. "Would you like it if I did that?" You ask, your eyes widening with curiosity as you wait for an answer from the smiling emperor.

"Of course. You will become the most precious treasure in this empire." He takes you in his arms.

News of you becoming an oracle and being given a miracle to see into the future was considered by the Emperor and Empress to be a blessing. You become a weapon to predict what will happen in the ongoing war. Therefore, they always remind you to tell them whatever ‘dreams’ you saw.

An oracle does not dream.

The words repeated like a spell, seeped in and settled in your head.

The ability to see the future develops later. You no longer just get clues about what will happen in your sleep, you can even suddenly receive visions when you are sitting or touching someone's head. But, somehow as you progress, your misfortunes seem to spread like the roots of a banyan tree.

Your father really made you an imperial weapon by bringing you to the frontline. As if he didn't care if his daughter was more familiar with the smell of rancid blood than flowers, he did it over and over—claiming it was for Liyue's victory.

So is it worth the little fright you feel every time you hear a loud noise?

Such a contrast knowing a princess who grew up in a palace, lived in a place guaranteed to be free of shards and nails, is now on a battlefield where people risk their lives to kill each other. Plus, you are really treated as a strategist here.

No matter how many drops of blood drip from your nose from exhaustion, the Emperor will always find a way for you to endure it.

Because you’re the key to Liyue's victory, because only you can cheat fate.

Contrary to what your parents believed to be a blessing, in reality this is your second misfortune. At a young age, instead of being familiar with tea parties and dolls, you have memories of corpses strewn on the ground as gifts you can't get rid of.

Until one day, your father took you to Liyue's second capital—Morax—after taking over another territory. After a long journey, the horse carriage you both were in stopped at a large house. The building was luxurious enough that at one glance, you infer the possibility of a Duke inhabiting it.

Your father was the first to come out. He holds you by his side while the guards take up formation. As you approach, you can see the figures of two figures who have been waiting even before the carriage arrives—a man your father's age and a boy who appears to be two or three years older than you.

"We greet His Majesty the Emperor and Her Highness Princess (Y/N). May prosperity and health always be upon you." The man bowed respectfully and was mirrored by the child beside him.

The Emperor turned to you, "(Y/N), this is Duke Zhen Xiang and his son, Zhongli." At the mention of the latter's name, you set your sights on the boy. "If I'm not mistaken, Zhongli is your age."

My age? You thought.

Observing Zhongli, you notice that he has brown hair color with golden tips. Amber eyes with golden pupils instead of black. He wore traditional Liyuean clothes that were more luxurious than people, no wonder since he was the son of a duke.

"Say hello, Baobei." Your father told you.

You subconsciously gripped the side of hanfu. “Hello." You thumped, afraid that your father would reprimand you like your mother every time you stuttered.

But the anger didn't exist and instead was replaced with Zhongli who returned the greeting. "Welcome to our humble abode, Your Majesty." He is very polite even though he looks younger than Shiva (who often fails in manners class).

The Emperor let out a laugh, "Zhongli, how about you giving my daughter a little tour around the house? Your father and I have a lot to discuss."

The suggestion (which was actually an order) was agreed by Zhongli with a nod. "Your Majesty, allow me to do the honor of taking you around." He reached out while looking into your eyes, adorning his calm face with a faint smile.

Surprisingly, once you compare this duchy with the palace you live in, you find this place more comfortable and lively. Although not bigger and wider, the caretaker makes sure to put flowers on several sides of the room. You don't know how to put it but, if they offered to exchange the palace for this, you wouldn't object.

You turn your head when you think you hear something, "What’s that noise?"

Zhongli stopped walking for silence which gave him a chance to listen too. His amber eyes lit up as he knew exactly what and which creature was making a low 'meow' sound.

"My cats." He answered.

You turn your head quickly almost assuring him you're going to get whiplash from it. "Cats? You have cats?”

“Yes,” Zhongli noticed the curiosity in your eyes. “Would you like to see it, Your Highness?”

Your lips were bitten from doubt. In the back of your head rang your mother's voice saying that animals are dirty and disease-carrying every time you want to pet the imperial guard dog. Luckily, Zhongli had eyes sharp enough to catch that, then stretched out his hand like he did earlier.

"I'm sure Your Highness will like them."

You looked up to meet his eyes. "Will.. will they bring disease to me?" You ask and then regret it when you realize it has the potential to offend him.

However, instead of being gloomy, Zhongli chuckled. "I assure you my pet is cared for in the best possible way."

“I'm sorry,” you almost mumbled before getting a little louder, “I didn't mean to offend you. It's just, my mother always says that every time I ask for a pet."

"You didn't offend anyone." He said, glancing at the hand you haven't yet taken. "I won't force the Princess if you don't want to."

Hastily you put your hand on his. He smiles, cupping it before leading you to a door. The room that is now open to you is filled with about three cats. As he says, they look clean and well-groomed.

“They're so cute!”

You let go of Zhongli's hand to run to the gray fur cat. As if knowing you are a guest of its master, it rubs its head against your dress, scaring you a little at first, but subsides when you know it means no harm.

“Would you like to pet them?” Zhongli offers.

You looked up at him, "Is it okay?"

"Of course."

After getting his permission, you slowly use your index finger to stroke the cat's fur. You gasp from how soft it feels against your skin. Once it's comfortable and confirming it won't bite, you stroke it with the palm of your hand.

“O-oh! It made a purrrrr sound!!”

Zhongli laughed at your attempt to imitate his pet. "Her name is Ming Ming." He says.

Your cheeks lift as a smile spreads across your face. "Hi, Ming Ming!"

The brunette pointed at another cat who started to approach you because it wanted to be petted too. "This one is Chen, this is Po." He mentioned the names of the white and brown cats.

“They are all so cute!”                        

Zhongli couldn't miss how your face lit up from happiness, replacing the gloomy expression that you carried with you for some time. He loves how your cheeks turn red from enthusiasm, reminding him of an apple from a fruiting tree in the back garden.

“Must be nice to have them.” You said, followed by a sigh.

Whatever you are thinking now, it has erased your smile. He doesn't like this, why do your eyes seem to lose their shine?

"Your Highness can say that until they mess up the house." Zhongli said in the hope that it will cheer you up.

It worked because now you seem enthusiastic about the story. "They did that?"

The boy nodded slightly, "That's why father put them in this room." He answered.

"Ha ha! They are still cute in my eyes!”

That's the smile. He puts up his own and prays that you don't lose it again. With such beautiful eyes, it would be a pity if you used them only to lower your head and stare blankly at every part of Liyue.

Zhongli turned to look at the window that showed the bright sky outside before returning to you. “Does the Princess want a tea party?”

You looked up from his new offer, "Tea party?"

You ask that question even though you don't wait for an answer. In your mind, you remember the last time you tasted the sweetness of your favorite tea under sunny weather. You remember enjoying it with your older brother, you were about to laugh when you remember Shiva spilling his cup from his negligence. But you locked it up knowing it was just a memory, because now you're traveling with your father with the war he brought.

Zhongli's hand that he stretched out in front of you again brought you back to reality. Where then you look at him with wide eyes.

" Zhongli?"

Amber eyes looked back at you, "I don't think we should miss this beautiful weather."

You haven't accepted the offer yet, Zhongli spoke as if you had said yes to him. However, you don't find it in yourself to be angry about it. How can you be mad to him who always reaches out his hand to invite you to discover new things? Things that feel appropriate for a child your age to enjoy, things that aren’t swords, arrows, shields, wounds, blood, death, and fate.

And so, you smiled at his invitation, letting him take you to his garden.

Zhongli was right about the beautiful weather. At the table where you two enjoy tea and Dim sum, you wish time would pass slowly.

The petals of the cherry blossom tree flutter when the wind blows, informing you of its existence. You haven't even realized that spring has arrived, where your country will show off its natural beauty to the fullest. However, from the five spring years that you have passed, you have faith that this will be the most beautiful.

You smiled so broadly, as if the palace gardens were no more beautiful than the dukedom. So even though he doesn't dislike it, Zhongli feels that your expression is out of place.

"Your Highness?"

You turned to him, "Yes?"

Zhongli scanned your face for a moment before asking, “Forgive my rudeness but, I heard His Majesty came here straight from the battlefield. How did you come along?”

The question he asks freezes you in place. Zhongli seemed smarter than kids his age, of course he would pick up on small details like that. Then, would it be good if you told him the real reason? That His Majesty brought you to the battlefield because of your misfortune being an oracle?

Will Zhongli see you differently in the future? Or worse, treat you the same as those who use you for their own purposes?

You stare at his beautiful amber, hoping to find the answer to your doubts. "Father took me to the battlefield."

From that, his eyes widened. “But, the battlefield is a very dangerous place. You shouldn't be there." He said, wondering what the reason for a little girl in a place where people raised swords and archery to kill each other.

Your gaze shifted as you gripped the fabric of your dress. “Father said I can bring victory to Liyue with my prophecy.” You told him and Zhongli still kept his silence.

Now that you said it, what kind of reaction would he give?

You took the heaviest breath, “I can see the future.” By the time you rediscover his eyes, the evidence of shock is on his face.

Even though his jaw isn't hanging down, you know a lot is going on in his mind. Only this time, Zhongli's gaze made you uncomfortable to choose to look the other way. You're trying to understand though, knowing that even though oracles are believed by their words, oracles who can predict and change the future from their actions are different things.

Zhongli blinked after processing everything. “Are you comfortable with it? Being on the battlefield?”

That's weird. Instead of asking what you can see or begging for his future to be predicted, Zhongli said the things that failed to come out of your parents' lips.

"Father said I could help a lot by being there." On purpose, you avoided what Zhongli hoped to hear.

"Isn't drinking tea and playing with cats more fun than standing in the middle of adults fighting each other?"

You're surprised by how gently he says that. Amber eyes stare at you with lips curled into a smile, Zhongli looks at you while telling you that you shouldn't go through things like that at this age.

“…He is the Emperor.”

“However, he is neither a saint nor an oracle. He won't see past your lies if you say your miracles disappeared." Zhongli countered, slightly enjoying your parted lips from his suggestion.

"Isn't lying a bad thing?"

Zhongli laughed at that, “Small lies won't hurt a person as great as the Emperor.”

You can't deny that he has a point. People knew that an oracle could lose their miracles once the gods felt they no longer deserved to be blessed. Maybe this lie will save you later.

From that day, you took Zhongli as your first friend.

From that day, you answer your mother's questions about your predictions by saying you don't see anything in your sleep. You repeated the same thing whenever she brought it up, so often that they concluded you had lost the miracle, which makes you no longer treated more special than the crown prince.

After they thought you were nothing more than an imperial princess, they set you up with the crown prince of the Snezhnaya kingdom after the war ended.

Ironically, despite being stuck in an engagement you didn't want and people no longer treating you as if they were willing to kneel at your feet, you find your new life more serene—as an oracle thought to have lost her ability to see the future.

Because you believe that in the end, everything will be fine.

Because you believe Prince Childe will call off the engagement after years of not seeing you and you'll find the happy ending you've always dreamed of.

However, the world is not as beautiful as expected, thus heaven was created.

In the year that you are about to reach the coming-of-age, a high fever hits you who is lying weak. The doctor who couldn't find the cause also advised your ladies-in-waiting to apply a compress in the hope that it would relieve the heat.

You're in a dream—no, you remember what they used to say about the oracle having an inability to dream. However, with the plumes of smoke covering the sky and the roof of the imperial palace burning in flames, you believe this is the most terrifying prophecy of all you have received.

Because in your arms is Zhongli. His armor is stained with his own blood.

Meanwhile, not far away was a soldier who had planted his proud flag—which you remember as belonging to the Snezhnaya kingdom. He was the one who managed to stab Zhongli with his sword after ordering his men to release their arrows.

"It's a shame to see a duke as great as you fall like this." He said, venom in his voice.

You gritted your teeth but chose to ignore him away as your priority was to hold Zhongli tightly so the soldier wouldn't have a chance to touch him again.

That soldier was so brave now that he knew the Liyue empire had collapsed, and you became the only remaining member of the imperial family. He laughs, finding solace in your vigilance and the man who will die in your arms.

"If the marriage hadn't been annulled, we might have become allies." This time, he did not hide his ridicule.

In that vision, you couldn't take your eyes off of Zhongli—which left an invisible wound on your heart seeing him in this state. He uses what little energy he has left to cup your hands, rather than the warmth, coldness he gives you.

You wake up from your sleep covered in sweat. The memory of what you saw—what will happen in the future—still vivid. Your noisy thoughts block out the worried voice of your ladies-in-waiting.

What happened? You thought. All this time, my vision of the future had been Prince Childe insisting on forcing the marriage to me to kill me after making me his bait to a war. Then, why this time it was Zhongli who died instead of me?

You brushed off the hand of the waiter who brought you water. The ringing in your ears hasn't gone away yet, as if it were there forever. All this time, you've been avoiding Prince Childe in hopes that he'll get tired of you and have the wedding annulled. Was Zhongli's unexpected death an effect of your efforts to avoid your death at Childe's hands?

You put lines on your mind. Then you blink when you realize what you have to do—do your best to make the marriage happen, even if it means entering the lion's mouth. But, you think it's better than witnessing Zhongli's death for real, you thought you'll find a way to change your destiny again later.

With trembling legs that almost tripped you down the second after getting out of bed, you ran outside. The dark corridors of the imperial palace doesn't stop you from finding your way to your parents' chamber.

You stop only when you reach a large gold-carved teak door. On each side, the palace guards bow to you.

The door is opened after one of your mother's ladies-in-waiting informs you of your arrival. Now, the Emperor and Empress stood with their bewildered faces. You know there's a lot of questions in them but, you're the one to make requests.

“Baobei, what are you doing here? Your maid said you—"

“Father, Mother,” you cut him off even though you know it's rude but, you don't really have much time.

A breath you take. Oh, you swear this is the heaviest breath you'll ever take.

Opening your eyes, you look them straight in the eye before saying: “Please let me go with you to Prince Childe's coming-of-age banquet.”

An oracle does not dream. Now, you're the one who makes sure you'll always remember that.

Which means, in the distant future, Zhongli's death is real and will happen if you don't put in your efforts to change it.

@thelovelydiviner @r0ttenhearts @tsunotaro-san​

AUTHOR NOTE: hope i didn’t confuse anyone about y/n’s ability to see the future and how zhongli ended up ‘dead’ in her recent vision! if you want to join the tag list, you can leave a comment and i’ll write u down on the next chapter. hope you enjoy!

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