#if any of you call him a 'child version' because he's wearing shorts I will personally hunt you down 😀

[wanderpawn]

I've been really into Frogs lately.

Right now my favorite frog is the microhyla nepenthicola, which is very tiny and lives in a pitcher plant :) I also love poisonous and carnivorous plants, so it's super fun to me that there's a frog that can live in one !

Sorry, now I'm infodumping about my brainrot.... anyway. Reca totally would, he strikes me as a chronic hyperfixation + special interest haver.

[shrimpybbq]

rafe, his fiancée and their family in the 18 month gap between s3 and s4

“What do you think about another baby?”

rafe is ecstatic about the prospect of another kid, and he shows it. he’s constantly spoiling his girl, always doting on her and helping her around the house. he makes sure to hire staff around tannyhill and ensure she doesn’t have to stress, making sure to spend time each night with his family despite the chaos of his day. rafe knows her first pregnancy wasn’t the best (bc of him) and he wants to give her a whole new experience

high school gf was worried about telling him she was pregnant again, knowing how badly it all went the first time. she knew rafe had grown to love his son and his family, but she was still apprehensive about his reaction, knowing he was in a stressful period of life rn. she didn’t have anything to worry about however, seeing straight away how different rafe was with her now. he loved being a father and was so keen to have another baby, especially now everything is his, and he can provide for his family the way he wants

baby no. 2 was a girl, just as rafe wanted. he already has little charlie, who is a carbon copy of himself, but he wants a little girl who looks just like her mother. rafe already loved to stare at his fiancée’s face, but imagining her looking after a mini version of herself - rafe thinks he might die.

as his fiancée and mother of his child, high school gf is living good. rafe is struggling with his father’s death, but mostly, they’re happy - really, really happy. charlie is starting to speak, and he is so excited to have a baby sister

oh you know the jokes are going around the OBX about how rafe just can’t keep it in his pants (but who could blame him when his girl is just so hot)

rafe doing the absolute most to have his fiancée relaxed and resting at all times - he loves to take her out on the boat and let her lay in the warm sun, especially because she gets so clingy when she’s sleepy and calm

rafe who begins to secretly hunt for a new house for the family to move into, wanting a new space just for themselves. tannyhill had too many bad vibes and rafe wants to start fresh

the family are often seen out and about the island with little charlie either toddling in front of his parents, or being swung in between their outstretched arms

charlie becoming known by those on the island as a cheeky little boy, always pulling faces and trying to play with everyone

rafe watching his girl get closer and closer to her due date and growing more and more anxious - he was so coked up the first time that he never really worried, but now he is always hovering and checking in on their baby

rafe is there for this delivery!! he's 100% holding his fiancée’s hand and brushing her sweaty hair out of her face, whispering "you can do this, baby, you've got this"

the nurses let him cut the cord once his daughter is born and he is definitely crying and trying to subtly wipe away his tears

the whole family spending the next few weeks hiding in their new house enjoying their first moments with their new little girl

rafe picks her name and decides to call her emmeline, emmy for short

if any family ever gave off rich vibes, it's the cameron's. rafe has his kids dressed to the nines, nice cars in the driveway of his new house and his fiancée wearing the nicest jewellery

all the women on kildare being so jealous once they see sexy muscular rafe cameron fussing over a tiny little baby, emmy clutched tightly in his arms as his fiancée holds charlie's hand

rafe would never admit it, but he loves the looks he gets when he walks around his little girl - he might be loyal but he still likes to be reminded he's hot sorry not sorry

wedding time!!!!

i think their wedding is actually very casual, maybe even a holiday elopement

rafe doesn't really like the people in the obx that much and so when his girl suggested getting married somewhere quiet, just the two of them, he was like "mmm, why not?"

the pair get married on a private beach in hawaii, rafe in a loose white shirt and a pair of linen trousers, his girl in a silky dress (this is so serious to me)

they hire a photographer and definitely put a big wedding pic on their hallway wall

everyone in the obx knew it was coming (bc they were engaged) but people are still a little shocked that the high school couple actually got married?

i see them settling into a nice routine once back, really just wifey looking after their little family, rafe running cameron development and the family spending all their time together happily

idk i'm just very passionate about the concept of rafe being loved and giving love in return bc it's clear he's capable of it, he just needs to feel safe and nurtured

click here for pre-season 1 rafe, gf & their unborn son

click here for season 1 rafe, gf & their son

click here for season 2 rafe, gf & their son

click here for season 3 rafe, gf & their son

click here for season 4 part 1 rafe, gf & their son

[cyberluvzu]

I don't know if you will want to do it, but can you make headcanons of Ben Drowned? (The fanon version of him, not the canon where he is a child 💀)

I've been seeing some of your headcanons and I loved how you write !! (This is my first request, I don't even know if I'm doing it right ✋😭)

That's it have a great day <3

BEN DROWNED HEADCANONS

AJJGSKSHSK THANK YOU SM ILY. ALSO I ABSOLUTELY LOVE BEN SMSMSMSMMS. You're literally so nice I'm sobbing. I ALSO WASN'T SURE IF YOU MEANT GENERAL OR ROMANTIC HEADCANONS. YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY TOO :3 <3!!!!!! MWAH MWAH MWAHHHHHH!!!!

(I also had to edit this while it was posted bc I accidentally clicked post 😭😭)

General Headcanons

- Pothead

- LMAO SORRY

- But he would probably smoke weed here and there

- Hungry when he's high

- I also like to think that he has longer hair, just long enough to be put in a pony tail

- He mostly keeps his hair up

- Would probably dress more comfy if he's just relaxing at home

- Video game shirts, basketball shorts, sweatpants, PJ pants

- If he has to like actually get dressed for any reason he would just wear something comfortable but not exactly pajamas

- More like baggy clothes, y'know?

- Buys dumb shit with his money

- "Oh look a bag of mini plastic ducks"

- "I NEED IT"

- Likes to hack games, but when other people do it he gets mad

- He takes it as a challenge and pops through that person's screen to absolutely terrify them

- He thinks it's hilarious

- Going off of that, he LOVES to scare people

- Specifically likes when people have over the top reactions to it because he thinks it's the funniest shit ever

- Would definitely watch those 2 hour long YouTube video essays on a topic he's never heard of

- Frequently falls down YouTube rabbit holes because of it too

- Also knows random facts about obscure topics because of that

- Takes GREAT care of his PC

- It's in absolutely top notch condition

- I like to think that he's not THAT messy like some people see him as

- More of a "I'll put everything in separate piles" messy

- Surprising clean-ish room

- Loves brain rot

- In like an ironic way though

Romantic

- Let's you play with his hair

- Loves the feeling of your nails scratching his scalp

- Gives you dumb pet names

- Will absolutely call you the most cheesy, diabolical pet name and act like it's normal

- LOVESSS taking naps with you

- Like genuinely adores it

- Also really likes nose kisses

- You kiss him on the nose

- He's all yours

- ALSOOOO WOULD DEFINITELY WAKE YOU UP TO PLAY GAMES WITH YOU

- "Babe can we play Minecraft"

- "It's 3am, Ben"

- He loves you and wants to play with you

- He would definitely do most of the hard work (cheat)

- Makes sure you have the best items in games

- Loves when you wrap around him

- Big fan of hugs, especially yours

- He loves how you feel and smell

- NOT IN A WEIRD WAY 😭

- He just really likes you

- Will absolutely flirt with you in the stupidest ways possible

- Tries to pay attention to you, but if he's distracted by a game, you'll lose his full attention for a couple of hours

- He will eventually remember that he has a partner and will go bother you

- HE LOVESSS TO ANNOY YOU

- Will poke you when he wants attention or needs something from you

- Has a shit eating grin on his face the whole time

- If you get upset at him he'll fake being overdramatically upset just to make you laugh

- Loves seeing you giggle, laugh, or smile

- He would definitely let you borrow his clothes

- He thinks you're the cutest thing ever in his clothes

- Looks forward to getting into bed with you and talking about a new game he started, his day, or just about anything

- He's sweet, but can also be a complete dick

- IN LIKE A JOKING WAY

- He wouldn't really be mean to you

- Just annoying

- He's secretly hoping you kiss him to shut him up

- Would buy you and him matching jewelry

- Your name in his phone would probably be "player 1"

- Or something cheesy like that

- He loves being cringey and cheesy with you

- He's just really comfortable around you and loves you

- Sometimes he might not know how to express it because of how extreme it feels

- But he does get the point across eventually

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

HELLO!!! So basically I didn't proof read this for shit 😭. BUTTTTT that's bc I accidentally hit post when I wasn't ready. BUT I HOPED Y'ALL ENJOYED, SORRY I HAVEN'T BEEN POSTING AS MUCH!!!!! MWAHHHHH!!!!

[aroacenezhaanddainsleif]

so i was rewatching the end of lmk s4 with some friends today, and i noticed that in 4x10 peng says smth to nezha like "let the demon child come out and play!" and like. if i knew more about nezha lore thatd probably be quite concerning to me as a lorehead. and you seem knowledgeable. so. any thoughts?

oh boy. (cracks knuckles) it's late and i should be sleeping but I'm also sad so Nezha interest go BRRRRR

i will say for any accurate/culturally referenced info, go check out @ruibaozha - i am simply summing up as much as i can and some stuff is missing/not elaborated on

let me break down the basic elements of the Nezha myths.

Nezha is born his mom and his military dad, Li Jing, and his older brothers Muzha (second) and Jinzha (first). but Nezha is like fucking. superpower baby for some reason? Apparently the heavens decided to bless Li Jing with a powerful son for his military prowess, and Nezha's mom, Lady Yin(?), was pregnant for 3+ years. Then Nezha popped out as a goddamn ball of flesh. His dad attacked him because hey! Flesh ball! But then Nezha's ball split open and he jumped out as an already formed young child (ages often unclear- ppl say he's 7, or 12, and in some cases he died after only 3 days(?) alive.) either way, Taiyi Zhenren swoops in to be Nezha's master, and everything is fine for some time.

at least til Nezha kills Ao Bing. this part of the myth is really what defines Nezha as a "demon child" or not. in Fengsheng Yanyi/Investiture of the Gods, ONE of the older/more well-known written versions of his story, Nezha washes his sash in the East Sea and causes the dragon palace to quake. Ao Guang understandably gets pissed and sends up his general to ask him to stop, who Nezha kills. then Ao Guang's 3rd son, Ao Bing, who Nezha also kills (and rips out his tendon to wear as a belt)! sometimes Nezha also kills a demon, apprentice of Lady Earth Flow, miles away on accident because he randomly fired a bow. yet in another cases, Nezha is the hero- a demon came up to eat children at the shore, and Nezha obviously killed the dude, then Ao Bing, same thing. but in other other versions, Nezha was friends with Bing and accidentally killed him while playing due to being ultra powerful...

and then Ao Guang threatens Nezha's town, because the kid killed his son. (sometimes Nezha goes and strangles Guang before he can talk to the Jade Emperor, so...) Guang demands an apology and/or Nezha's life or he'll flood the whole mountain pass. and Nezha decides to slit his own goddamn throat to apologize to his parents and "return his body to them". Aka: he commits suicide at like, seven(?)

From here on, stuff differs: Li Jing is a shitty dad (like he REALLY really hates Nezha. calls him a curse and beats him), Nezha gets a temple and Jing burns it down, Nezha gets reborn in a lotus body by his master and/or Buddha, goes on a murder rampage against his dad and Muzha (beats up Muzha w/ a golden brick), is forced to submit to his dad through a Golden Pagoda, making Li Jing the Golden Pagoda Bearing Li Jing, sometimes Jinzha gets to flog his brother, and Nezha's basically a bitter fire god (child) put into the literal armies of heaven. he's also got his 6/8-armed and 3-headed war form in the myths...

now, this is a very long yet still EXTREMELY short explanation of the myth(s), and the "message" really boils down to what version you tell- the boy who started stuff by (unintentionally) murdering people, or the hero. but a lot of the main point of nezha's myth was originally about filial piety, and can be told as a story to remind kids that the parents are always superior, but in more modern myths and stories, Nezha has ended up shifting more into a symbol of rebellion. He's the protection deity of children: the outcasts and the demon children, the kids who question things and are loud and outspoken and aren't what people (especially their parents) want them to be. Nezha's story entirely depends on region, context and intent, which makes him a very versatile figure.

Now, put that into LMK?

I have a lot of hcs abt why LMK Nezha is the way he is, but my main one comes down to that "demon child" line. I like to think that Nezha was basically an uncontrolled force of war power and killed Ao Bing (regardless of the situation).

But then he got put into heaven and 1. realized how he acted and had to deal with crushing guilt and self-hatred and 2. got groomed into a (then) child soldier 👍

He was still a general, but learned to channel all that destructive power into being a protector and how to defend instead (ex: his shields, sealing power, etc). He takes his current job very seriously bc he sees it as his only reason to still be worth existing. he also dislikes Wukong bc he sees far too much of a younger him in Wukong; doomed for destructiveness and chaos. this is also why i put parallels to Nezha and MK because. yeah. (and imo, although i know Nezha paid it back w/ his suicide, I'm a bit surprised Mei wasn't taught to hate him, due to how much family matters to dragons...)

so aka, my hc of: "dude was literally always seen as a demon child/symbol of destruction, and therefore after being used as a literal war weapon and then being made to guard a map for ages (probably because he didn't want to harm anyone else), DUDE'S GOT ISSUES!"

[sleepingdayaway]

Ohh could you do Poly! Chain minus Wind because he’s a minor!

Like the reader Is non binary and likes to dye their hair and have a bunch of tattoos and piercings! How would the chain react to that?

If you can’t do that then:

Reader who is obsessed with the chains ears? Like they have a love for elves in fantasy so they are obsessed with the chains ears?

I can absolutely do the first one! Just a heads up part of this will be a short story that will lead into headcanons format! Hope you don't mind. Thank you for requesting :)

Warnings: Mentions of needles and piercings if not a big fan.

The group of traveling hero's were heading towards a certain village that was thankfully wasn't too far. It was also relieving since youngest of the group was getting a bit antsy; they've been walking non-stop for hours. More than what they usually do.

Their outer-worldly friend was also reaching their limit, but from what the group has been told. They aren't used to walking such long distances; they're only able to keep going this far because of the view.

Twilight lightly snorts at the thought. There isn't a pretty view in Hyrule Field, especially his Hyrule in his opinion, Wild's version of Hyrule is much more beautiful. Although [Name] has adamantly denied his wording, speaking on how they never thought they would even see any version Hyrule.

A small bashful smile appears on his lips as he recalls the conversation. Honestly how did they all end up with someone who isn't afraid to speak openly to them?

Twilight shakes his head lightly before facing forward, gently leading Epona to a familiar route. Kakariko Village. Yet one thing still remains in his mind, the type of clothing [Name] is wearing.

Said person is happily following others to the village. A decent pace for themselves so they won't collapse when they finally stop, but being completely honest they feel like they might at any moment. Why didn't they accept Legend's insistence on changing clothing at their last stop?

A black baggy hoodie with a comfortable shirt underneath and casual jeans. It was an outfit that they wore back home before ending up here which in all fairness was something that was normal! It was getting fresher since winter is coming up, so it wasn't their fault that they were wearing a warm outfit.

Finally, did the familiar gates of Kakariko village appear. It was sort of like someone did magic on the group as visibly their shoulders stopped tensing. Their voices gained a bit more volume as they all walked the path.

Wind rushed forward and headed straight for the spring that is off to the side. A smile formed on Time's lips as he watched over the younger one; he was going to follow until [Name] also ran past everyone to follow after him.

Time held a bit of fondness for them. Although he refuses to say anything outwardly, merely enjoying the rest of the boys look of shock whenever he does a 'charming' act towards [Name].

A small exhale left from Time before turning away from the duo, he trust that the both of you will be able to take care of each other. Instead he called for the his descendant and asked if there were any place that could provide for the group.

The two went further into the village with Twilight leading. The rest of the group went off into separate directions, a bit curious to how the village was different.

Sky and Wild walked off to the bomb shop that's still up and running. They both heard Twilight speak of a certain bomb that can go off underwater.

Four and Legened went to the 1st ever shop of Malo Mart. They wanted to see what was for sale, and if the shop was actually run by a child.

Meanwhile Hyrule simply decided to follow [Name] and Wind to the spring. He did wanted to clean up his face a bit after all that traveling. Hyrule's eyes squinted in fondness as he spots the two near the edge of the spring. They were laughing at each other as well as splashing water on their clothes until it got a bit more intense which derailed into the both of them tackling each other into the water.

Hyrule hurried over and helped Wind up with [Name] also pushing the boy up. The duo giggling at their actions without a care. "Honestly, did you two really had to go that far?" spoke Hyrule as he grabbed Wind's bag from his hands. The young sailor had handed it to him as he tried wringing the water from his clothes.

"Of course! The little devil insulted me," [Name] said with a bit of snark, "you think I was going to let that slide?" They removed their hoodie and tied it around their waist, thank goodness it was only that got drenched.

"Holy shit! Those are so cool! Are those permanent?!"

Hyrule:

Shocked to the fucking core when he saw your tattoos for the first time.

He thought they were so interesting and hesitantly asked if he could look at your arm.

When you say yes??

Yall he is looking at them like they were drawn by hylia herself.

He enjoys tracing them with his fingers

When you explain how they were made he was lowkey concerned 

Wdym it’s a bunch of needles piercing your skin with ink??

WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT TOOK A FEW DAYS FOR THEM TO BE DONE???

He almost fainted when you showed him your tongue piercing

There was no way he would willingly poke a hole into his own tongue

Sees you in a different light now

But like also curious if he could get a piercing as well-

YOUR HAIR MAKES HIM STARE A LOT

Currently it's dyed a lilac color and seriously believes that it suits you very much

dyes a small part of his hair the same as yours

Time:

Impressed-

Knows damn well those things hurt

Really loves the way everything was shaded in

Also loves the way you had your entire arm covered

Respects the amount of hours you put aside to make sure it came out well

Thoroughly enjoys your piercing in reality

First one to notice the one in your tongue 

Totally didn’t fall in love even further when you told him the process

teehee 100% loves you with snake bites

Also impressed with your pain tolerance

You changed your hair to a soft pink

Honestly entranced with your hair

Reminds him of the fairies from one of the Great Fairies from Termina

Legend:

Whatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhatwhat

When did you get those???

Do they still hurt??

Why did you get those??

Who made them for you??

Also does not like your piercing

DON'T BLAME THE GUY FOR SOME REASON HE JUST DOESN'T

Ofc he won’t make you take them off

Aint no way he letting your money go to waste

Only thing he does like are your tattoos and the regular ear piercings you have

Lowkey cries when you pierce his and Ravio’s ears

Cries again when he realizes that all three of you have matching jewelry

Now its a nice teal color that Legend really loves too

He helps with you taking care of it and keep its color

Ravio helps you redye so that your hair stays

Twilight:

BARKING LIKE THE DOG HE IS

FUCKING LOVES EVERYTHING

THE TATTOOS AND THE PIERCING

PACKAGE DEAL BABY

Definitely whines when you refuse to do matching tattoos with him

Only because he chooses the ugly designs 

Also because you don’t trust the way people do tattoos in hyrule

Enjoys switching out the jewelry for the ones that can be switched out

Buys you the good quality gems honestly-

Twilight always questions how you were able to get your hair silver

Seriously how many tries did you have to do to get that color??

Four:

Move out of the way yall it's his turn

Asks about your favorite piece that’s on your arm

Makes notes about your likes and dislikes and hears about the one that really hurt

He makes little items that are similar in design that you have

Each of the colors have their own personal preference 

But yknow combined they love you either way

Violet loves your snake bites <33

Red sometimes pokes at the industrial piercing that you have

Blue finds different designs for your helix piercing 

Cherry Red

Your hair is cherry red

You can imagine who's really happy that you changed your hair to that color huh?

Sky:

Colors in your tattoos-

Yall laying together and your arm is exposed?

He’s pulling out paint to go in a fill in the blanks

Goes into extreme detail when painting on your arm

Feels like you deserve only the best

Does get a bit sad when you have to wash it away

Although he doesn’t mind since he gets to redo it 

Really wants to match tongue piercings with you tbh

Thinks they’re pretty and bc why not?

He loves the color you chose this time

The baby blue really reminds him of the sky that he was used to seeing back home

Wild:

Probably the only one that actually goes through with it

You have to stop him from going diy everything

Mans lives in the woods half of the time

You know damn well he will forget to clean and sanitize the wounds

To make up for it you probably make him temporary tattoos 

LIGHT GREEEEN

Always teases that each strand of your hair is worth 1 rupee

It's actually a really pretty color and when it does fades it goes nicely

Probably the only time you'll let him match with you

You dye a small chuck on his fair to make him happy

Warriors:

Down so bad tbh

First time he spots the tongue piercing when you teased him by sticking your tongue out?

Literally folded so fast

Goes hands first on your face and softly touches the snake bites near your lips

Doesn't pay attention to anything else

Only focuses on making sure he doesn't hurt you when he does messes with the jewels

You have split hair with him

Half side is black and the other is white

Definitely messes up your hair on purpose whenever he sees you perfectly separate them

but eventually does help you part it bc he'll do anything to make you happy

[starwarskawaii]

Empanadaverse HCS

Miguel, Reader, and Both, In That Order

Essential to Miguel understanding in this universe, you can skip reader if you want so you can better project onto her lol.

Personalities:

Miguel is pretty close to canon, save for some emotional growth (this is all set after the next Spiderverse movie). Miguel is around 37 at this point and tired as shock. He's his loveable, sarcastic, caring, and trying his best self. He's made progress in forgiving himself and no longer tries to blame himself for what happened to his daughter. When he does, he stops himself. A lot of this is thanks to you, but he started this journey before you thanks to the Spiderkids. (I operate under the assumptions made in my previous Miguel headcanons, save for the Lyla thing. And clearly also the age gap thing.)

Reader is doing her best. She's in her early to mid thirties. She's a very kind and caring person, with the kind of incredibly short fuse that only comes with using all your energy just to stay alive. She can match Miguel in stubbornness and sarcasm. Unfortunately, she can not match him in strength, so he wins a lot of their "I don't want to do this thing that could help me because I'm stubborn" fights. That bastard picks her up. She's scary as heck. Super strength or not, being hit in the shin with a cane hurts, so don't piss her off. She's a half shaved hair, black lipstick wearing, alternative girl who *might* be even scarier than ninja vampire but a good guy over here...

Miguel:

•Sarcastic, can match your energy

•Bad at naming things™️

•Will absolutely NOT be naming your future kid(Gabri? Gabriella? Does he know a name that isn't Gabriel???)

•This dummy suggested Gabrielle as a possible baby name for the future. One letter off from Gabriella. He isn't even allowed to name the cat at this point.

•Miguel is terrified your first time together. He's so worried he'll hurt you he's shaking

•LOVES your apartment. His senses are heightened, and your apartment is a sensory safe space because of your own sensory issues. He loves that you hate noise.

•He has a major soft spot for kids. Especially girls. Especially if they even remotely remind him of Gabbi.

•Has a major soft spot for anyone who lost family, having lost his own.

•Is really just a softie with a bad attitude who just needed someone to listen(and pry it out of him)

You:

•You need a caregiver for things that require extra energy, like laundry and cooking. You would not need a full-time caregiver. You are capable of caring for a child as long as you have the right partner to help ease the load (I say this so people don't question why Miguel and reader are considering kids).

•You're a member of the Cripplepunk movement (cpunk for those of you that aren't as keen on reclaiming slurs)

•Not on disability because as long as you can work the government was not dictating your life damn it.

•You really shouldn't be working though.

•Can't speak Spanish lol(Spanish speaking readers disregard lol, part 3 has a mention of this, but there will be a slightly alt version in it for if you speak Spanish, I know a lot of Miguel's fans are Hispanic)

•You make a lot of jokes about getting fridged when Miguel isn't around

•Favorite artists are Taylor Swift, Mothica, and half•alive

•Your favorite clothing brand is ACDC Rag

•You kind of hate that you have a hot boyfriend who would look so good in their unisex stuff but is TOO DAMN BIG TO WEAR ANY OF IT

Both:

•You and Miguel got as close as you did because he saw your posts about him online and realized there was no point in putting on a brave face in front of you. You already knew he was faking being okay. He might as well let someone who already understood him get to know him better.

•Miguel is a planner. You are a planner. Your body is a plan destroyer.

•Miguel calls your music "old people music." Damned future boyfriend...

•He'll take you to theme parks, even if he's limited in what he can ride because of his height.

•You two are absolute menaces when you're allowed to be pilots on the Millenium Falcon. You kind of pity the teenagers who got stuck with you guys last time.

•You're both two stubborn North Easterners who hate the cold

•"it's too shocking cold in this suit." "we should move." *confused in Spanish* "Forget I said anything"

•You eventually move into his dimension so that he doesn't have to keep using disguises to look photo realistic when you two go out. Also so he can access his wealth and better health care for you.

•Miguel insists you stop working once you move to his dimension, his reasoning being that you were only working before because life on disability was something you were desperately trying to avoid, not being too keen on the government telling you how much money you could have. He doesn't want to control you. He just wants you to have a better quality of life.

Empanadaverse taglist:

@chaithetics @ridiculous-hibiscus

[shesthedream]

Before, After, and Forever - Chapter 1

Aaron Hotchner x fem!OC (Anya Decker)

Summary: Agent Decker is a phenomenal agent. She has been through hell and back and is unwilling to open her heart. But what happens when Agent Decker’s case lands in the BAU’s hands? What happens when it is decided that she is an asset to the team? And, most importantly, what happens when she meet the unit chief?

Series cw: canon topics, killers, hostages, rape mention, torture, scars, nightmares, flashbacks, slow burn, mentions of eating and body insecurity, yelling

Chapter cw: canon topics: killing, crime scenes

a/n: This is the new edited version!! Please leave suggestions for anything you might like to see in this story (like any tropes). I have a vision for how I want this to go this time around, but I would love to hear your suggestions!

--

It was accurate to say that Aaron Hotchner was surprised when him and his team were called into a meeting with the director of the FBI. As far as he knew the team was solving cases rapidly, filling out paperwork on time, and overall on their best behavior... well as good as it could get. Morgan had broken down a couple of doors and the team had collected a few nicks and scrapes along the way, but it was nothing out of the ordinary, and certainly nothing that could warrant a meeting with the director. Regardless of what it was, he was willing to take full responsibility for his team. 

The team showed up at 8 in front of the building where the director requested the meeting. They looked worried. All of them. There was no lively chatter as their mornings would entail, no discussion at all. Everyone collected in the lobby, full of hustle and bustle, and waited to get scanned in. One by one they entered the elevator as a team: Rossi, Hotch, Prentiss, Morgan, Reid, JJ, and Garcia. 

“It’ll be ok.” Morgan comforted Garcia who was especially nervous. She leaned into him, “I know” she replied solemnly. 

The team stepped out of the elevator onto the 14th floor. This was unfamiliar territory for all of them except Rossi and Hotch. Both had previously attended meetings in the building, but never on the 14th floor. It was reserved for the director. “BAU for the Director” Hotch stated confidently to the secretary. “Meeting room 3, down the hall, first left, on your right” she barely even looked up. “Do you have any idea why is called us in?” Rossi asked, hoping for some kind of answer. “No idea, good luck” she replied and went right back to work. The team walked to the meeting room. Hotch knocked thrice clearly when they heard a brief “Come in”.

The team was greeted by the director as they shuffled in. “Good morning. Please take a seat.” As the last one in, Reid closed the door behind him and everyone sat down in the seemingly small meeting room, just big enough to fit all of them and another. Once they settled he began talking.

“I’m sure you all are wondering why you are here. We have a very important case from London. This killer’s M.O. is now appearing in the U.S. With no suspects in London and millions of people traveling everyday it is practically impossible to create a list of suspects. We decided it would be best for you all to assist in this case.” The director explained while passing out case files with crime scene evidence and M.O. details.

“Won’t there be issues with jurisdiction?” Rossi asked. “We have an agent who was working this case in London. She should be here in-“ He was cut off by two knocks and the opening of the door. In the doorway stood a woman holding 2 cups of coffee, a large black handbag, wearing a gray turtleneck, black leggings, and black heeled boots. She was short, Morgan thought she was a child at first glance because of her height.

“Hi. Morning.” She nodded at everyone, walking toward the director. Instantly the team began to profile her. It was hard to turn off. But they couldn’t figure out much until they saw the directors gaze soften as he looked up and saw her walking towards him. The stoic man cracked a smile as she placed one cup of coffee near his files. She pulled out a smaller bag out of her large bag and placed it near the coffee.

“How was your flight?” the director asked “I’m sorry for calling you in now. Did you have a chance to go home?” He followed up. “It was fine. I went home and I made you lunch.” Her answers were short and clipped.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to. And for the coffee.”

“Of course. Are they working the London case?” She look pointedly at the members of the BAU.

“Yes, I figured they could help. You’ve heard of the BAU, right?” They we’re speaking as if the team wasn’t sitting in the same room.

“Absolutely. Pleasure to meet you all. I’m Anya Decker. I've been working this case for the past few weeks, and I'll brief you at Quantico. I'll grab my files and head there. Thanks everyone."

And with that, she was out of the door.

"She's brief, to the point, and professional; don't be offended. She has all the qualifications; the receptionist will hand you her file on the way out. Thanks for coming." He shook everyone's hand on the way out.

As the BAU made their way out of the building, all the team members were left with questions. Questions they had no answers to. Hotch had the most, and he hoped her file would answer a few, but it was very basic.

"Anything interesting?" Rossi asked as Hotch scanned the file he was given

Name, birthday, age.

She was just 3 years younger than Hotch.

FBI history.

Excelled in all aspects of her FBI career. Started interning when she was only 19. Interestingly, she graduated from college with a behavioral science and psychology degree, but it didn't say which college. Maybe he would have Garcia follow up on that.

Team history.

She was a lone wolf. And he didn't know what to think about that. Should he trust her?

"Nothing more than the essentials," Hotch told Rossi. And it was true. Just the basics. It's not like they would be working with her for that long anyways. Right?

[trashcatsnark]

So, because I was talking about this a bit with friends, I wanted to ramble and make a post

So, my Durge and my Tav have interconnected stories/backstories. And I've seen it pointed out that in their little prologue and in general, Durge calls themselves The Dark Urge and of course, given Durge's are namable, they're never referred to directly by name. Which the irl reasons is- you can name them whatever you want. But in universe, giving the impression that The Dark Urge is likely a title. Similar to when Sceleritas calls them Dark Lord etc. And any other name is likely given by their foster family/name before they officially was found and brought in by Bhaal's cult.

But my tav- Petra, knows him by his given name, not his title. She knows him as Silas. While they have an age difference, they were at the same orphanage for a time. And the first time they met after each leaving the orphanage, is before the flayers- where his name was stripped away, due to her own enchantment/magic- he doesn't remember her, but she remembers him. And the Urge is already whispering in his ear when he sees her and her lover, two people committing the greatest crime- doing absolutely nothing at all.

Then she says his name, without really thinking- just "Oh, Silas?" And his ear prick up, a name he hasn't heard in years- the name of a version of him that no longer exists. The little boy who didn't understand the urges pulling at him. The version of him who couldn't understand why blades called to him or why blood felt warmer than a hug. The child who still cried when he was left at the orphanage. Silas who still tried to make friends and play games, trying to hide how afraid he was of the monster inside of him.

The version of him that is long dead. The version of him Bhaal killed.

And if they want to be a part of that life, perhaps they should die too.

Because The Dark Urge has long accepted the monster he is, revels in it because that's what he's been taught to do or suffer the consequences. He embraces what Silas was terrified of- so he attacks them, because he can, because he must. Petra survives, just barely breaking away long enough to save herself after watching her lover die at The Dark Urge's hands.

And just a few short years later, his brain has been reduced to tadpole infested swiss cheese. He cannot remember his name, his titles, or who he is. Only knows that he's in danger, from the tadpole, from the world, from whoever hurt him, and whatever is whispering in the back of his skull. And this girl- Petra, seems to know him, but she doesn't say how or why, and doesn't acknowledge it. Only seems to hesitantly watch him, like she's waiting for him to make a wrong move, her hand always hovering around her weapon when he nears

Then she nearly gets struck down by a skeleton in this dusty old tomb and he yanks her away before a blade can pierce her belly. And she's caught off guard and looks up at him with confused eyes, surprised that it's him- "Silas...?" She says it without thinking, again, her muscles tightened and her brows narrowed.

And maybe he can be Silas again. It fits him, he wears it well, he thinks...

[thepeculiarbird]

Characters from project.dgkotr

So as you (maybe) know, I've been working on this wip for over a year now. So I've been thinking of introducing my characters, this will be updated from times to times if there's a new character or if I just find something interesting about an already existing one.

This is mostly based on their 'volume 1 versions' so most things happening in volume 2 or 3 won't be written here.

If you want informations about any of the characters, check on my blog and look for # with the corresponding emoji (exemple : #🦩). If you still can't find what you want, leave an ask or a comment and I'll try to answer as best as I can !

MCs :

🖌️ - Noe / 21-22 (start-finish) / Gay / He-Him

Noe is one of the mcs. His dad disappeared for (not so) unknown reasons when he was 5 so he doesn't actually know him that much. He studies art in an art school where he met Adam and Devyn. You guessed it, he likes to draw and he also used to play trumpet but just kinda gave up lessons.

In volume 1, we start with his point of view (or pov).

📷 - Madhi / 22 / Bisexual and Ace / He-Him

Madhi is also a mc. He lives with his parents and his two sisters in the same city as Noe and Danae. He dates Danae, however, there's been some tension between the two and it may not go completely well. He studies journalism and likes to write but it's not really a hobby.

In volume 1, we finish with his point of view (or pov).

🛹 - Danae / 21-22 (start-finish) / Up for interpretation / She-Her

Danae is the third mc. She lives with her parents and her brother, Alec. She doesn't study but it is mentionned once that she works at McDonalds. She spends time skateboarding, roller-skating and she loves trying new ice-cream flavors and drinks (well at least that's what her bf thinks). She's kind of the mom friend. She dates Madhi as told above, she was really happy to be apart of the 'little' investigation, until of course, the discovery of the cult...

She's often called "Dan" for short by her family and Noe, her boyfriend doesn't use that nickname as much.

Deuteragonists :

🦩 - Prescillia / around 18 / Lesbian / She-Her

Prescillia is Madhi's sister, she's the middle child. She wants to become a fashion designer because she loves knitting and she will use her brother as a mannequin for the clothes she made. Her bestie is Sibylle <3.

🎸 - Alec / around 15 / Up for interpretation / He-Him

Alec is Dan's brother. He's in a band with 3 friends, he's the guitarist of that band. They play for little school shows or other small events. He cares a lot about his friends and sister even if doesn't show it much. He's also really close with Martin since they knew eachother for so long and he was really scared Martin wouldn't make it after 'the incident'.

🍭 - Devyn / 22 / Up for interpretation / She-Her

Appearance

Devyn is the silly person "every" friend group has. She also studies art, digital art to be more precise. Even tho she seems really innocent, there are some secrets about her. She never knew her mother, her dad told her that she went to prison and Devyn just believed it. She loves wearing really colorful accessories around her neck, in her hair or attached to her clothes, kind of decora aesthetic.

She does not make a physical appearance in volume 1 but is mentionned.

🦆 - Adam / 22 / Aroace / He-Him

Appearance

Adam is another less important mc. Like Noe and Devyn, he studies art, he loves to practise human anatomy and would have probably study sciences if he wasn't so bad at it. When he meets Prescillia, he agrees to be used as a mannequin instead of her brother, making all of them happy. Also, a lot of people thinks he dates Devyn which makes him laugh everytime someone mentions it because they obviously don't.

He does not make a physical appearance in volume 1 but is mentionned.

Side characters :

🧁 - Leslie / 10 / She-Her

Leslie is Prescillia and Madhi's little sister, she's the youngest child and she's so fucking cute.

📚 - Sibylle / around 18 / Up for interpretation / She-Her

Sibylle is a smart girl, she's stated as Prescillia's best friend.

🎤 - Oriane / around 15 / Up for interpretation / She-Her

Oriane is the singer in the same band as Alec. She's in a relationship with another member of the band. She has red and black hair. She also knows how to play guitar.

🍕 - Martin / around 15 / Up for interpretation / He-Him

Martin is the leader of the band where Alec and Oriane are in. He always has a smile on his face and is really good at helping people. He plays bass probably (I'm not an expert in music sorry) His best-friend is Alec.

🔮 - Honorine / around 18 / Up for interpretation / She-Her

Honorine is a member of the cult, she will appear hopefully in every book I write for this wip idea. Don't mess with her because even if she doesn't approve totally what the cult does, she can still kill you. She's very attached to her notebook. (She's more than a side character but doesn't really fit in the deuteragonists)

🎨 - Beatrice / 22 / Up for interpretation / She-Her

Beatrice is Noe's classmate at art school, at the beginning she dates his ex actually. She's quite mean but don't worry, that'll get better, hopefully. She mostly dresses in yellow and brown and she loves 60/70's clothing style.

🏚️ - Fronsant-sur-Breuil / Every character living in this village

This will represent the people leaving at Fronsant like Tristan, Cassie, Henry or even the Mayor. Since they're not as important as other characters and that there are a lot of them, I'm putting them all together.

Pets :

☁️ - Cloud / cat / female

Cloud is Dan and Alec's cat. She is grey/white and she looks like a cloud.

🦎 - Dino / dog / male

Dino was Noe's dog but he died when Noe was around 13. He was a barbet.

Tag : @athenaspeculiardaughter @kaylinalexanderbooks @raiden-makoto @sarandipitywrites @jaelink @aalinaaaaaa @lyutenw @buffythevampirelover @nettleandthorne @finxi-writes @arwenschepers @corruptedbread @whimsical-blood-fairy @unrepentantcheeseaddict @kidukami @ryns-ramblings @rowenas-my-fave-child @mysticstarlightduck

[bastardgoblinwolf]

alright. so five nights at freddys huh. the story begins with these two guys called henry emily and william afton. theyre both pretty good at making robots so they decide to start a chuck e cheese type restaurant together called fredbears family diner. henry is the one who wears the fredbear suit and william wears a rabbit suit called springbonnie (<- WILL BE IMPORTANT LATER). they also both have kids! william has three (michael elizabeth and the one who doesnt get a name. hes just called crying child) and henry has one or two depending on if youre looking at the books or the games (charlie is the one who he always has & sammy is charlies twin brother who sometimes does not exist).

crying child is terrified of williams robots. michael likes to wear a fox mask and scare crying child sometimes. one of these times is on his brothers birthday party where he has an idea to pull an epic prank on crying child and put his head in one of the robots heads!

now. funny thing. i said before that henry and william make robots but i also said that they wear costumes. the robots actually Are the costumes. they decided to invent a little thing called springlocks to hold back all the robot bits so that you could climb into the suit and wear it as a costume. which sounds like a good idea until you think about it for literally five seconds. the springlocks have a tendency to just ummm stop working occasionally. while youre wearing the suit. which you know. kills you. the springlocks ESPECIALLY like to stop working when you get water on them!!! or move around too much!!!

and crying child is. well. crying. and trying to get down out of the fucking robot head. which is full of springlocks. im sure you can see how this one ends

long story short crying child fucking dies. because duh of course he does we are talking about the dead kids video games. this kind of fucks everybody up because you know. its a dead kid. william especially goes kind of bonkers and starts trying to. bring him back i guess is the goal? (they will try to tell you that he says he is going to 'put him back together' at the end of fnaf 4. this is not true do not listen to them.)

so william does what any normal grieving father would do and kills henrys daughter charlie!! awesome!! now charlie has her own little security robot called the marionette that henry built for her to keep her safe. and this security robot was not able to get to her in time to save her from william but it Was able to get to her eventually. and it just kind of lies on top of her? its much more emotional in the games. anyways.

charlies ghost is now trapped inside of the marionette through weird magicky stuff called remnant. all you need to know about remnant is that its basically your soul or whatever. its how the ghosts in this game stay inside their assorted vessels. and when a robot has a ghost inside of it it will obviously start acting weird because There Is A Ghost In There.

william notices this and is like Hm. maybe when people die they can take over other vessels. and he starts making this shiny new line of robots that are literally specifically made to capture and kill children inside of them. he also resorts to the acoustic version of this which is literally just luring kids to the back of his restaurant and killing them and stuffing their bodies into the suits of some other robots hes made. he kills not 1 not 2 not 3 but FOUR FUCKING KIDS this way. and the cops never think to look in the robot suits. this leads to the restaurant being closed down. fucking obviously

the issue with these new child killing robots is that william also still has two surviving children one of whom (elizabeth) is the exact age of the children the robots are designed to trap and kill. she also is very infatuated with one of the robots (circus baby). i cant see how this will end badly at all

elizabeth decides to sneak away on the opening day of this new restaurant with the new robots to see circus baby. and circus baby erm. im sure you can guess. william afton now has not one but two dead kids!!!!!!!!!

so now the new restaurant ALSO has to close down because a whole kid went missing there which is ermm a bad look for william because 4 kids went missing at his last location and 2 died. the robots from this place end up being rented out to people during the day and they often have to be fixed up at night. who fixes them up you ask? ohohohoho

remember michael. the guy who killed his little brother by accident. hes just kind of been hanging out plagued by guilt this whole time. so his dad sends him off down to circus babys restaurant turned rental to go be the animatronic fixer upper and also help his sister i guess?? (i mean 'sends him off down' quite literally btw. this place is underground. for some inexplicable reason.)

this quite obviously does not end well for mike. on his 5th night there he is lured into the scooping room (room with a giant scooper in it made to remove the animatronic exoskeleton from all the wiry bits inside. allegedly) and well. he gets scooped. so that this thing called ennard (amalgamation of every one of the funtime animatronics ie funtime freddy funtime foxy ballora and circus baby) can live inside of him as a normal guy out in the world and not have to be stuck in this fucking underground bunker forever. because they are sentient. because of the dead kids inside of them

anyways it seems that ennard forgot that human bodies rot when they dont have guts inside them to keep them running. michaels body decays over a few days until he is almost completely rotted at which point ennard launches itself out of his mouth and goes to hide in the sewers.

but TURNS OUT. the scooper is actually not for removing animatronic exoskeletons you silly goose. scooper is actually spelled SCUP. which stands for scalable creation of ulterior presence. its a fucking remnant injector that had a bit of remnant left on the end when it scooped all of mikes guts out. so now mike is in zombie limbo. awesome

also around this time william is like Damn i should probably not be leaving the bodies of those kids i killed in those robots. i better go disassemble those. so he goes to the og restaurant and disassembles the robots. the spirits inside of the robots then gang up on him and chase him into an old back room because well they dont like him very much. he decides to hide in his old spring bonnie suit?? which is an insane thing to do given how fragile the springlocks are??? so he gets fucking springlocked. obviously. that back room is then locked up and sealed by someone (probably henry remember him) and williams body gets to rot in the spring bonnie suit haha i bet he wont come back haha

michael in his zombie limbo is like hmm my dad killing all those kids is pretty fucked up and i feel bad about my brother dying. im gonna go free some dead kid souls. at which point he somehow gets a job at MULTIPLE OF HIS DADS RESTAURANTS DESPITE BEING A LITERAL ROTTING CORPSE. he then gets fired for tampering with the animatronics and for smelling bad at each of them

at this point there is an inexplicable 30 year timeskip. no idea what all of the characters were doing that whole time. anyways this new attraction opens up called fazbear frights based on all the missing kids and stuff that happened at williams restaurants. and michael is like i am going to go get that job for uhh. reasons

so he works there as the security guard for like at least 2 days when they open up that sealed room william was in and find the suit. they do not however notice the literal rotting corpse inside it (which somehow did not skeletonize despite being in a very wet very warm room this whole time???) and this thing (now called springtrap. get it. because william was trapped inside it. and its got spring locks.) starts just fucking going after michael for whatever reason. after 5 (6 maybe?? but i think 5) more nights michael burns down the place. you would think this would kill william once and for all. haha. hahahaha

but michael still has work to do i.e freeing the missing kids from the robots so he finds this job posting for a brand new freddys type location which is actually an elaborately constructed labyrinth designed to trap all of the still around animatronics (which is now scrap baby [who seperated from ennard for Reasons], molten freddy [formerly ennard], lefty [who has the marionette trapped inside of it] and scraptrap. who is still alive Somehow and has an absolutely dogshit design all of a sudden)

once you trap all your robots in there henry comes on over the loudspeaker and gives a big climactic genuinely moving speech about how everything that happened can now finally be left behind and these kids souls can heal and william can rot in hell forever and then he sets the building on fire, resolving the story once and for all

and then scott cawthon made 2 (soon to be 3) more games that i cant be bothered to learn anything about so i have no idea the plot for any of them. hope this was coherent and also sorry it took me 1 billion years to send this <3

fucking christ these games are a lot. thanks for the overview oh my god i have become enlightened

also. my brothers been asking me more questions including 'who's inside golden freddy' 'who's inside springtrap' (i told him that one) 'who's inside william afton' (?huh) 'who is people afton?' (he meant peepaw afton apparently 💀)

baby's first fandom i guess

[firedragon1321]

Here's a full reference sheet for my squishmallow boy Soren. I made a few of these (but only for characters I draw frequently). As the protagonist of the Toon-iverse Saga (aka my magnum opus), I draw him a lot.

I'm still trying to unlearn male/female, and so all of my existing charts will have that on them (krita's text tool sucks ass- editing isn't really possible). So I reproduced his stats here-

Gender- Boy, cis (he/him)

Species- Toon (Human)

Age- 12

Height- 4'7"

Weight- 90 lbs.

There's a lot going on with him so I readmored it. There's more art in the readmore too.

Trigger warnings- Child abuse (including sexual abuse/rape), childhood trauma/PTSD, non-consensual haircuts/tonsurephobia, implied transphobia, mentions of children wielding weapons.

Soren is an in-universe cartoon character (from a fake version of Digimon called Virtumon) dropped into reality. His new reality is a lot like our own circa the early 2000s, except for demons wandering around and plenty of other toons for Soren to hang out with. Upon arrival, he was branded with the Curse of Beauty (marking on his left shoulder and in the upper right), which made him a homing beacon for demons.

Soren has a heart of gold and wants to help his fellow toons. He doesn't have a lot of physical strength, but makes up for it with his cleverness. He's not above pretending to be a helpless baby boy to get what he wants. By the time you figure out you were tricked, it's too late.

Soren's dream is to create a world where all toons can be happy and safe, in a realm where that's often not possible. He aims to accomplish this with the aid of many other toons. This includes Beck- another one of my OCs who he sees as a surrogate big brother. Their relationship is reflected in other characters, deconstructed, and reconstructed throughout a buttload of books.

Soren is also a child who stacks up tons of trauma. He often says things impulsively which can be cruel, only to instantly regret it. His age leads him to struggle with understanding aspects of the adult world (mainly sexuality, which scares him). Like all kids, he thinks he's more mature and capable than he is. He's a little precocious, so sometimes he knows what he's talking about. But not all the time.

Soren likes junk food (especially salty treats and cheesy things), horror movies he's technically not allowed to watch (twelve is basically thirteen right?) and when people he trusts give him head scritchies.

In the lower right of the sheet are a few weapons he collects and a backpack he usually wears. These items are photographs I blurred/edited since they exist in the "real world" and not the cartoon realm Soren hails from. The golden "Winter's End" is a lightsaber-like weapon designed to kill demons, which he finds after a very long journey. It can't damage anything else, though- it phases right through other objects. Though the pocket knife doesn't!

As a toon, Soren's pupils sometimes grow and contract in weird ways. He also has four fingers (and toes, assumedly). When he blushes, it's little lines as shown. His toony behaviors are pretty subdued otherwise. He's from an anime, and not one of Bo-bobo's stripe.

Soren's a bit overweight. He likes salty snacks, but they don't like him. He gained weight over the course of his cartoon's backstory. Once called to reality, he can't get any bigger- but he can't lose weight either. His hair's also very long because he has a phobia of cutting it- no thanks to the dad from said backstory.

Here's a character sheet of backstory stuff. The first design is for him at age 7-8. The second is age 10-11. The divide starts after he and his younger sister Hazel tried to build a treehouse. Hazel fell out of the tree and broke her arm. That was the start of his dad's coldness towards him, and Soren's resulting rebellion, which created a perpetual cycle of anger between them.

The short version of his backstory- Dad wanted a perfect athlete, got overly angry over the treehouse incident, Soren responded by growing out of his control. His dad wasn't happy with his long hair because of toxic masculine dogma. He even forced a haircut Soren didn't want. But his mom was fine with it. She even did his ponytail for the first time. Needless to say, he's closer to her than his dad.

And then there's the stuff I don't know how I can explain in a way the blue hellsite can understand. But I'll try my best.

At one point in his original cartoon, Soren had to crossdress to go undercover for an infiltration mission (FFVII had a huge impact on me...). The people of the real world became unhealthily obsessed with this moment. This connects to his curse and the demons. The demons choose targets based on how people in reality see toons, and create one-dimensional parodies called "thralls" based on those interpretations. Thus, Soren's Curse of Beauty, and the demon that plans to turn him into a (cis, adult, elegant, empty) thrall.

(How do the demons know how humans feel? I'm not sure. But now that I'm aware of this "missing step" in the thrall creation process, I'll figure something out.)

Beck has the same curse as Soren, and the demons threaten him with it (I can't say how because that's a huge spoiler, should I ever publish). This and leftover subliminal messaging from his father's beliefs on how men should be make Soren a little politically incorrect. But he is learning! Even if it's not personally for him, he does accept that other people like crossdressing, and he shouldn't be mean to them over it. Eventually.

Puberty also hits him pretty hard, and he has to cope with having a crush for the first time. Since one of his earliest encounters is with a major villainous faction consists of people with too much money and a lust for toons, he doesn't know how to deal with it. There's lots of toxic or scary behaviors Soren has to unlearn. He has plenty of friends to help him, so it's alright.

All this weirdness makes sense from a writer's perspective. Soren is a character I created essentially to throw all my favorite tropes at and cope with trauma. His journey is the puberty I wish I had, and the growth I accomplished since my teen years. I love him so much.

[talesofsonicasura]

Fierce Mergence

An idea that came to me involving the Fierce Deity mask. We all know that there is some kind of entity inside the powerful item which during Majora's Mask and Hyrule Warriors cause the wearer to take its form. However in Breath of the Wild, it was just a mild powerup. (Reminder that it's a Amiibo based item and not actually canon.)

I can only suspect that after sometime between Hyrule Warriors and Breath of the Wild, the Fierce Deity entered a catatonic state or hibernation. Here's some important info to know about complete sensory deprivation. It can be used as a form of therapy but only for short amount of time. Too much will cause serious psychological effects on someone such as dementia (which can explain any possible memory loss).

You see the brain breaks down rational thought structures to minimize stress which however results in a psychotic breakdown afterwards. Imagine being trapped for so long without those vital senses? God or not, that is true hell to even the Fierce Deity.

Hence the catatonic state, his power locking his conscience away cause I'm pretty sure no one wants to see what happens when a god has a psychotic breakdown. That's my theory for why the mask doesn't act the same.

Now for to the actual topic here. What if the Fierce Deity fully fused with the current wearer? I don't mean like possessive type fusion but a purer version. Where two people fully become one: mind, body and soul. The entity wanting to escape their hellish imprisonment at any cost.

Two characters that come to mind is Breath of the Wild Link (Wild in Linked Universe terms) and Majora's Mask Link (Mask/Time in Linked Universe terms). Now if you guys are fans of the Fierce Dadity trope... here's a way to make it sad.

Fierce (or Valion as I prefer to call him) performing such a fusion to save his current wielder especially if that Link is a son in the god's eyes. Most of Link's being is front and center but everything that is Valion becomes consumed. Godhood's already a tough pill to swallow but when it costs your father...

Yeah, neither Mask/Time or Wild are gonna be okay for awhile especially the latter when you look at BOTW. If you don't want to go for the Fierce Dadity route like this but still want to use such an idea then here's a fun twist.

Mask/Time becoming the Fierce Deity thanks to over usage of the mask. It becomes harder and harder to take it off. Whenever it is removed, there are lasting changes such as increase in height, hair beginning to whiten and eyes losing their natural features.

For Wild, this comes from the constant upgrades given by the Great Fairies. The Fierce Deity Mask subtle gaining enough power alongside Valion gaining just a bit of conscious to perform a fusion. An unexpected change as Wild just wanted to wear his new outfit more, not become a God of Battle.

The Fierce Deity does want a chance to live again even if he's just an echo or hidden conscious. Reason why he does this to these Links is because of who they are as a person. Neither of them would use such power for personal gain but to genuinely help others.

Some folks in the fandom see Fierce Deity as a war god so there are important aspects that must be known. War isn't always started just for the hell of it. It is often for the sake of others whether the intentions are good or bad. War has its own heroes: soldiers, medics, to even the citizens themselves.

Hope, pain, sorrow, faith, joy, grief and rage are also emotions connected to this very concept. Both Links embody nearly all of this so they are perfect candidates in Valion's eyes. The Deity's seat is now empty so someone should take his place. And if that successor takes on a child, it just makes things better cause they now have a reason to avoid the same fate.

That's all I have for now. Until next time folks, I'll see you back in Hyrule.

Edit: I forgot to add that you guys can try your hand at this concept! I don't really mind at all as I'm curious about what people can come up with. 😀

[cno-inbminor]

iterum vivere (childe/tartaglia)

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

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

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

wc: 12.1k; angst + fluff

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

EDIT: Altered ChiLumi version now posted on AO3 here!

“Haven’t we met before?”

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

“A fucking whale, Childe?”

Oh.

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

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

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

“History and anthropology, you?”

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

“With Dr. Zhong?”

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

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

“Did you need me for anything?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

“So why ask me about the mythology?”

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

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

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

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

“Some.”

-

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

-

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

Or do they douse you in security?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

“Excuse me, what’s a Red Bull?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay!”

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

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

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

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

“Thank you!”

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

“Wait, what’s your name again?”

“It’s (Y/n).”

“Okay, (y/n)! Wait…(y/n)..as in…”

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

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

Oh. Oh dear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Good heavens.

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

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

You can’t stay here any longer.

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

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

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

-

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hold the fuck up.

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

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

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

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

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

“For them and their twin?”

“And quite a comfortable futon with enough blankets.”

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

Laughing. Loving. Grinning. Basking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Happy Holidays, Ajax ^^”

There is hope.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

You want him to. So, so bad.

-

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

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

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

-

“Found you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I did. You?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I like to think that we will.”

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everything makes sense now.

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

“I love you too?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mora for your thoughts?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, Archons.

“ -ou okay, Ajax? Ajax?”

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

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

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

Wait.

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

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

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

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

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

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

fin

[merakiui]

it’s 100% okay if you don’t wanna do this since it’s a triggering topic, but I thought I’d send an ask just in case since I haven’t been doing well recently.

Could you maybe write some HCs for Childe and Scaramouche with an s/o who struggles with depression and self harms as a coping mechanism? Again, it’s completely fine if you don’t wanna do it, sorry to bother you if that’s the case

Childe and Scaramouche with a Depressed S/O

cw: descriptions of depression, self-harm, mention of dagger/knife + blood **please avoid reading if this sort of content upsets you! note - you’re not bothering me at all, anon! I hope these hcs are able to cheer you up. feel free to send a message if you’d like to talk or vent! I’ll be here to listen! <3 

💧 Childe 💧

He’s aware of your depression because it’s kept you from doing certain things with him. There have been days where you can’t find the motivation to get out of bed and wash up for the day. Whenever this happens, he tries to cheer you up, asking if you’d like to spar with him or go out to beat some hilichurl camps to let off some steam.

Childe understands that everyone deserves their alone time when they aren’t feeling well, but he wants you to use it for healthy coping mechanisms.

He’s very perceptive, so it doesn’t take him long to find out that you’ve been self-harming. He’ll notice how bandages go missing and how you always insist on wearing long sleeves, even when the weather calls for short sleeves.

And then he’ll notice how often you wash your clothes, scrubbing extra hard in certain areas so that they’ll be as inconspicuous as possible.

He’s no stranger to blood and how to care for specific injuries, so it’s easy for him to piece together what’s going on. And when he finds a dagger hidden in your bedside drawer, wrapped up in a blood-stained cloth, the final puzzle piece falls into place.

Childe doesn’t want to upset you, so he’ll lightly bring it up when you’re in a neutral mood, so as to not worsen your feelings. He’ll gently explain his findings before asking if it’s true.

You’ll admit to it because there’s no point in lying to your lover; he’ll see through you no matter what you say.

Childe doesn’t know everything about depression and why self-harm is used as a coping method for some, but he’s willing to learn everything he can to help you through it when things get rough.

But he can’t help feeling worried whenever he sees your current cuts, always fearing that one day you’ll cut too deep. He has you promise him to never try anything that may threaten your life and he won’t stop pestering you until you’re absolutely positive you won’t fatally wound yourself.

Childe understands that everyone copes differently, but he doesn’t exactly approve of your methods. He wants you to be happy, but he also wants you alive and well, so it’s not a surprise when every sharp object in your house disappears, replaced with friendlier versions that allow you to go about your daily life, free of self-harm.

Rather than self-harm, Childe proposes other means of coping and he seeks to distract you from those thoughts so that you can enjoy your time with him. He’ll stick to you like glue, never truly allowing you to go off by yourself if you intend to cut yourself.

Childe’s annoying when he gets like that, but you’d rather have someone pester you with their affection and care rather than someone who shows no sort of sympathy whatsoever. 

⚡ Scaramouche ⚡

Scaramouche doesn’t really know about what you do in your spare time, other than your hobbies and work. So he almost passes out when he catches you drawing thin cuts along your wrist, blood pooling from the shallow wounds.

He’s quick to snatch the knife, holding it in front of your face like it’s a stolen toy. He’ll harshly reprimand you, wanting to know exactly what it is you’re doing and why you’re doing it.

He isn’t oblivious and he knows of your depression, but he still wants to hear you confirm the truth. And when you do he can’t help but feel upset. It’s evident by your scars that you’ve done this before and he feels very foolish for not noticing sooner.

Scaramouche doesn’t want you to hurt yourself like this again and he makes that dreadfully clear. He always hates having to act stern and mean, but it’s all for the good of your health. The worst case scenario always flashes in his mind: you’ll hurt yourself in a way that’s irreversible and he’ll be too late to stop you.

If you show any sort of displeasure at that, he’s willing to beg. And it’s a strange sight to witness Scaramouche, 6th of the Fatui Harbingers, beg. But he’ll do as much as that if it’ll get you to stop cutting.

You’re aware of the danger and you explain to him that it’s your way of coping. The pain is a familiar comfort and you need it in order to stay sane.

Scaramouche holds your hands in his in order to take your mind off of what you were just doing, forcing you to look at him so that he can get his point across. He wants you to use healthier methods to cope and he’s going to help you whether you like it or not.

He’ll offer an array of substitutes. If you want to belittle his underlings to get rid of some pent-up anger, go for it! If you want to feast like royalty, he’ll gather an entire buffet.

Like Childe, he’s also going to stick by your side. He’s not as clingy as Childe, but he’s definitely going to pester you about it, such as asking to see your wrists and anywhere else you might’ve cut yourself or doing away with sharp objects.

When he can’t be with you, you’ll be in the care of one of his most trusted underlings, who has been ordered to keep you safe at all costs, even if it means prying a knife from your hands.

It can be quite bothersome as you try to break your own coping habit, but you know Scaramouche means well when he takes so many precautions.

Scaramouche will always listen to you; he encourages you to vent to him when you’re stressed or upset over something rather than resorting to a blade. And you’ll find that talking about it with your lover is more soothing than any self-inflicted cut.

[princesssarisa]

Character ask: The Ghost of Christmas Past (A Christmas Carol)

Tagged by anonymous

Favorite thing about them: The gentle wisdom with which it guides Scrooge through his past, subtly coaxing him toward important realizations about his current life.

Also, the fact that it's so deliciously strange, eerie, and ethereal – seeming young and old at the same time, with muscular arms yet "most delicate" legs, its costume featuring both winter holly and summer flowers, and constantly changing shape as its light flickers, so that it's sometimes a disembodied head, sometimes a headless body, sometimes has no legs, sometimes has twenty, etc. It's a very effective symbol of memory, and how it encompasses so many things and constantly shifts and flickers in the mind. And since it's virtually impossible to adapt, this means we get an interesting wide array of different portrayals of the Ghost in different screen and stage adaptations – some male, some female, some young, some old, some human, some not-so-human – which adds freshness to each new retelling.

Least favorite thing about them: The fact that Dickens's surreal, otherwordly description of this Ghost is so impossible to capture in screen adaptations. Only one version – Richard Williams's 1971 animated short – has even come close to depicting it accurately. While I do enjoy seeing all the different creative approaches to the character, none are as fascinating as the original.

Three things I have in common with them:

*I believe it's important to remember the past to create a good present and future.

*I tend to be gentle, or at least I try to be.

*I love revisiting happy memories of past holidays.

Three things I don't have in common with them:

*I'm not a weird, insubstantial ghost.

*I can't time-travel.

*I very rarely wear white (it stains too easily).

Favorite line:

When Scrooge is afraid of falling as they're about to exit his room through the window:

"Bear but a touch of my hand there [on his heart], and you shall be upheld in more than this."

When it notices Scrooge crying at the sight of the countryside where he grew up:

"Your lip is trembling. And what is that upon your cheek?"

When the arrive at Scrooge's old school:

"The school is not quite deserted. A solitary child, neglected by his friends, is left there still."

About Scrooge's sister Fan:

"Always a delicate creature, whom a breath might have withered. But she had a large heart!"

About Fezziwig, using reverse psychology to provoke Scrooge into admitting the value of his old employer's kindness:

"A small matter to make these silly folk so full of gratitude... Why! Is it not? He has spent but a few pounds of your mortal money; three or four perhaps. Is that so much that he deserves such praise?"

brOTP: Its fellow Ghosts of Christmas, if they were to interact.

OTP: None.

nOTP: Probably any human.

Random headcanon: It was the first of the three ghosts to agree to Jacob Marley's request that they visit Scrooge. The other two were reluctant at first, because the Ghost of Christmas Present only knew the current nasty Scrooge, while the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come only knew his destiny (as it was before he changed it) to die alone and unmourned. But the Ghost of Christmas Past knew the goodhearted, lonely child and idealistic young man he once was and felt sympathy for him, so it agreed to pay the visit right away and helped to persuade the others too.

Unpopular opinion: I think Dickens meant this ghost to be masculine-presenting, not androgynous or genderless. Yes, he calls it "it," but he uses the same pronoun for all the ghosts, including the clearly masculine Marley and Ghost of Christmas Present. He describes it as like a cross between a child and an old man, and Scrooge addresses it as "sir" when they first meet. That said, its status as the strangest and most ethereal of the ghosts does make it come across as the least gendered, and its touch is described as being "as gentle as a woman's hand," so I don't mind when adaptations cast a woman or a young girl in the role.

Song I associate with them: "The Lights of Long Ago" from A Christmas Carol: The Musical.

Favorite pictures of them:

This illustration by Sol Eytinge Jr.

Ann Rutherford in the 1938 film.

Michael Dolan in the 1951 film.

From Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol, 1962.

Edith Evans in the 1970 musical Scrooge.

From Richard Williams's 1971 animated version.

Angela Pleasance in the 1984 TV film.

From The Muppet Christmas Carol, 1992.

Joel Grey in the 1999 TV film.

Motion-captured Jim Carrey in Disney's 2009 CGI film.

[ynscrazylife]

Hey !! i love ur writing style <3 i wanted to ask you if you could write a loki x reader where the reader and loki have been best friends for a long time now and after he faked his death in tdw he knocks on their door and the reader and loki have an argument and then they kiss?? maybe like the scene in crimson peak “you lied to me” “i did” “you told me you loved me” “i do” smth similar? :)

The Greatest Deception | loki angst fluff fic

Summary: After Loki reveals himself to be alive, Y/N has some choice words to say. Loki has a question.

Authors Note: Thanks for requesting! Also, I want to say that I fully support and acknowledge that Loki is genderfluid. Seeing as this fic was requested with Loki having he/him pronouns, I will use those pronouns. (Also, I didn’t know which pronouns you wanted me to write since you mentioned they for the reader but typically I use she/her, so lemme know if you want that edited)

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2 |  Main Masterlist 

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/someiconsx

“Lady Y/N?”

The voice was muffled through the door and the one in question rolled from her side and onto her stomach as she laid in her bed. A low groan emitted from the creature whose limbs were tangled in the blanket and sheets.

. . .

“Lady Y/N?”

A short knock-knock accompanied the repeating words, and Y/N had a feeling of that the lovely woman who she’d love to talk to at any other time wouldn’t stop until she replied.

She pulled herself into a sitting position, smoothed over her unruly hair, and finally pulled the covers up so her pajamas wouldn’t be seen and called out, “Come in!”

The woman opened the door and sent her a sheepish smile. “The All-Father has requested your present, ma’am,” she informed her.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Do you know the reason as to why?” She quizzed.

The woman spared a quick, darting glance at Y/N’s window. “Well, the All-Father has requested all of the palace’s royals and higher-ups to gather in the courtyard. He is gathering local citizens for a, ah, play, and more would like, in this words, his ‘most esteemed confidants to enjoy,’,” she answered, subtly bouncing her weight from one foot to the other.

Y/N thought for a moment. This was the first time she was hearing that the King was holding a play — not to mention, the fact that the last play (if you could even call it that, because by Heimdall’s recounting it was horrific) was held before any of the children of Odin were born.

Just thinking about that caused a twinge to hit her stomach and for it to twist up. Loki. Odin’s youngest child and the one that had most recently left her, as he sacrificed herself to save his vaillant brother, Prince Thor. It had been weeks, maybe even a month, since Y/N had heard the news and had been resorted to a lonely, saddened version of herself. Loki was her best friend, the person she trusted more than anything and—no, no, who was she kidding? He’s more than that, and he deserves to be remembered as more than that by her.

He’s also the one that she loves, and has loved for at least the past year when she realized it.

Nonetheless, she had taken many steps to get through the grief of Loki’s dead — as had his father — and she wasn’t going to let all her hard work crumble down on one, singular thought.

“Very well, then. Please inform the All-Father that I will be there shortly, thank you,” she said.

The woman nodded and bowed her head before exiting.

Once the door had been fully shut and she could hear footsteps no more, Y/N crossed over to her window and drew back the curtains, not having missed the look at said window.

The sunlight poured into her room but the stage was indeed sent. Rows of fine chairs sat with rows of fine people in them. In front, Odin stood with a red curtain drawn closed behind him. His arms were gesturing wildly and he had a big grin on his face as he gave his speech.

Despite the curiosity that itched into Y/N’s face, she pushed it aside. She had never seen the King conduct himself in such ways, but alas, everyone grieved differently. So, she closed the curtains and got dressed for the day ahead.

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

The moment Y/N stepped outside, she could’ve sworn that there was already long beads of sweat trailing down her skin. She let out a huff but journeyed on towards the courtyard, as this formal royal wear was necessary and she had no intention of pissing off Sir Snotty-Dickhead — as she called him (he had some fancy and long name she couldn’t remember, in her defense) — who was Odin’s right hand man.

By the time she got there, Odin was still rambling on with his speech, but his sudden notice of Y/N saved the guests from boredom.

“Aha, the guest of honor! Lady Y/N, herself,” Odin announced, bringing his hands together in a clap and gesturing for her to come toward him.

She betrayed herself and her cheeks involuntarily reddened as all eyes laid on her. She approached Odin and curtsied out of respect, but her mind was full of wonderings of why she, of all, would be singled out.

“I’m sure you all know who Lady Y/N is, yes?” He began, briefly pausing before continuing. “If you sadly do not, let me tell you. Lady Y/N had been a friend of the royal family, specifically my child, Loki’s—” the name caused her to suck in a sharp breath, “—and she was granted the title of Lady to uphold the image of the palace and to complete very important Asgardian duties.”

Once he stopped talking and the crowd clapped politely, Y/N took the opportunity she was presented before it’s door could close and quickly went and sat in her seat, the only seat not occupied yet, in the front row.

Odin then began speaking against whilst he walked to the side, “Speaking of my dear child Loki, this play that has been put together is one designed to honor him and his heroic sacrifice. Without further ado . . . ” He let his words trail off, and the red curtain pulled open.

Y/N’s face contorted into surprise at the words, not expecting this to take place. Again, she reminded herself, everyone grieved differently, so she decided to give it a chance. However, as the play went on, she was quick to realize that honoring Loki wasn’t the intention here. The horrid acting could be excused but Odin himself allowing this mockery of how Loki died? Of how he sacrificed himself? Well, with every second that passed, her face heated more and more — and not due to the sweat — and she grit her teeth, just barely refraining from yelling.

The worst part for her came though when the actor who played Loki did a dramatic reenactment of his sacrificed and the actor who played Thor did the worst fake crying ever. Y/N turned to the others, expecting them to be just as enraged as she was, but was floored to find that no—they were laughing. And not just that, but Odin was having himself a chuckle as well!

Her fingers tightly gripped the edges of her chair and she forced herself to look straight ahead, just about able to hold in her tears until the play was over and the actors bowed.

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

Afterwards, while everyone was standing and giving Odin rounds and rounds of praises, Y/N stayed rooted in her seat. She couldn’t just let this go by as if it were nothing, but she was struggling to compose herself to confront him.

After a couple minutes of going back-and-forth, she decided, screw composure. She didn’t have to be composed. She was allowed to be angry.

So, she stood up and marched straight for him.

“All-Father,” Y/N said through grit teeth, forcing herself to curtesy, “I request your company in private, if I may.”

It took Odin a moment to tear himself away from accepting his latest comment, but the way he quickly glanced over at Y/N, she knew that he had not noticed — or perhaps he did not care — the state she was in.

“My apologies, Lady Y/N, but should I depart now, I fear I shall upset my comrades!” Odin said, ending his comment in a boastful joy, which resulted in laughter and cheers.

He didn’t wait for her response before engaging in another conversation, and Y/N’s lips remained tightly shut until she decided to just go forth and let her stuffed-up emotions out.

“Fine. I will say it in front of everyone, then!” She said, firmly and loudly, gaining everyone’s attention. “That was a pathetic excuse to remember Loki . . . It was an insult! You mocked him, your own child! How could you even— I . . . I just don’t understand . . . He sacrificed himself for your son and for Asgard and this is how you repay him? God. I expected much, much more from you for him because I . . . Let’s just say that we both love Loki, in our own ways, and I-I . . . I am very disappointed.”

Wanting to flee from the tears that were now streaming down her face and from the silence that was pounding, she turned around and she walked away, the realization that she had just confessed her love in front of everyone hitting her.

“Lady Y/N!”

Odin’s words stopped her in her tracks, but she did not turn around. Just stood. Waited.

“He told Thor, before he passed, that he, uh . . . He loved you, too.”

Y/N stared straight ahead, her hand jutting out to grab the pillar next to her to steady herself.

Loki loved her?

She didn’t stop the tears from coming this time. She let them, and the sobs, overwhelm her.

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

“Lady Y/N?”

The voice and the knock were much more stiff than they were this morning.

“Come in.”

Her response was devoid of emotion, much more curt than it was this morning.

The same woman turned the door’s knob and opened it, sending Y/N, who was curled up on her bed, head nestled into her knees, a wary look. “The All-Father has requested your presence at his quarters,” she said.

Y/N let out a small huff, in no mood to talk to the King after what had happened. She forced her head up and gazed boredom at the woman. “Is it an emergency?” She deadpanned.

The woman looked around the room and by her lack of response, Y/N knew that either she didn’t know or didn’t want to say.

She sighed. “I will be there shortly,” she said.

The woman nodded and wordlessly left.

After she did, Y/N stood up and went in front of her mirror, taking in her appearance. Her once brushed hair was now frizzy and in knots and her eyes were puffy and red. Angrily, she practically tore the hairbrush through her hair and dabbed at her eyes with makeup until the red could be seen no more. She had no intention of letting him see her this way.

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

Screw formalities, Y/N thought, as she walked straight into Odin’s quarters which composed of a small living room, a bedroom down the hall, an office, and a bathroom. She didn’t bother to curtsy or announce her presence.

When he finally and gradually turned around from whatever he was doing, a slight look of shock crossed his features, before he replaced it with a warm smile. “Y/N!” He said, but quickly corrected himself, “Lady Y/N.”

Y/N frowned and crossed her arms. “I hope that you have called me here to apologize,” she said, an icy edge to her voice.

Odin nonetheless looked at her kindly. “In a way, yes,” he vaguely said, before a magical transformation underwent before her.

His wrinkles disappeared, his beard disappeared, his grey hair turned jet black, and his clothes transformed into his usual wear.

No longer was the All-Father standing in front of her, but her best friend. The one she loved.

Taken by utter shock, Y/N instinctively stumbled back, her jaw dropping and her eyes widening. “What the hell is this?” She gasped out, not wanting to believe it at first. It was a cruel trick — it must be! There was no way.

“It’s me,” the mischievous deity said, a rare softness to his voice and in his eyes. He took a step forward, but then stopped himself. “I never died, I only impersonated my father.”

Y/N stared at him, angry tears coming to her eyes once more. “How?” She forced out, thinking that maybe she was dreaming. “Why?”

Loki looked around, slightly dumbfounded, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to question him. “I wanted the throne,” he answered, as if it were obvious and a perfectly acceptable reason.

Y/N stared at him as if he had grown two heads. To her, he might as well have.

“Oh, really? So you take over your father, trick everyone - me, your brother - into believing that you’re dead, you banish Sif . . . All because you wanted the goddamn throne?” She cried.

The cluelessness left his eyes and replaced itself with guilt, regret pooling inside him. He looked down, shoulders falling with a sigh.

“I’ve felt guilty tricking you ever since it had all went down. I wanted to tell you but, honestly, a part of me didn’t think you’d be that upset over my death. But you were really, so upset and I . . . I was lost. I didn’t know what to do. All I wanted to do was hug you and tell you that it was fine, that I was here, but I thought I’d screw up your emotions and hurt you even more,” he admitted.

Y/N just looked at him, her frown growing deeper. “That’s an awful excuse,” she hissed out, words laced with venom.

Loki immediately snapped his head up to look at her and his gaze held desperateness. “It’s not an excuse,” he said quickly. “It shouldn’t be. I’m . . . I’m so sorry. The last thing I ever wanted to was to trick you, and . . . I did. But today was the final straw. I couldn’t continue like that.”

Y/N took a step forward, having an inner battle in herself on whether or not to forgive him. “You lied to me,” she reiterated bluntly.

Loki nodded guiltily. “I did,” he agreed in a small voice.

She took a pause, taking in a deep breath. “You told me you loved me,” she added.

There was a brief moment of silence before Loki said, in the same small way but a little more firm now, “I do.”

Y/N kept walking, not even fully sure or convinced of what she was doing, but knowing that she needed to do it, until she was standing just inches away from him. They looked at each other for a couple moments, neither saying anything, until Y/N wrapped her arms around Loki. He returned the embrace.

“Never do that to me again!” She yelled through the tears that were now coming. God, was she tired of crying. Especially today.

Loki hugged her tighter, his own tears falling. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, and repeated that over, and over, and over again. “I’m an idiot.”

Y/N leaned back and cupped his face with her hands. The love she had for him overwhelmed her pain, and more than anything she needed him now. Besides, she could see his guilt. She could see the truth shining in his eyes. He wouldn’t do anything like this again, because he loved her. And she loved him.

“At least you’re self-aware,” she whispered through a sniff, taking a page out of his book with her joking remark. Before he could quip back (and she was sure he’d have an excellent one), she leaned forward and captured his lips in his a kiss. Loki smiled against her lips and wrapped his arms around her waist.

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