#why oracle cloud

[mosbah77]

[multi-fandom-imagine]

hey!! I loved your Epic series, and if it doesn't bother you, can you do one of places where Apollo would have sex with fem!reader? <3

A/n: Excellent

Apollo’s Favorite Places He and You Have Had Sex

By the god of poetry, prophecy, music, and absolutely unholy sex

1. In the Temple Dedicated to Him

Of course this is one of his favorites. What kind of god wouldn’t want to be worshiped in every possible sense of the word?

He had you spread across the marble altar, sunlight slicing through the columns like golden blades, casting holy light on your naked skin. The air was thick with incense — frankincense, myrrh, and your scent, which he swears is now his favorite perfume.

Apollo took his time, slow and deliberate, the kind of slow that’s maddening. He whispered praises into your ear in Ancient Greek, tongue flicking along your neck as he slid into you. Every roll of his hips made the mosaics overhead seem to shimmer. “You were made for this,” he muttered, hands holding your thighs open like he was offering you to the gods — except he was the god, and you were already his offering.

By the time he finished, you were trembling, back arched, the altar damp with sweat. He looked down at you like you were the prophecy he never saw coming — beautiful, divine, and absolutely wrecked.

2. On His Sun Chariot (While It Was in the Sky)

“Do you trust me?” he asked with that infuriatingly perfect grin — right before lifting you into the flaming chariot mid-sky.

The chariot moved fast, powered by his divine horses, soaring through the clouds. The wind whipped your hair back, and the sunlight painted his skin in godly gold, brighter than anything mortal eyes could bear. But he only had eyes for you.

He had you bent over the front of the chariot, bracing yourself against the golden frame as he pounded into you from behind, every thrust rattling the heavens. The horses neighed in approval (or protest — honestly who cared?), and the mortals below probably thought the streaks in the sky were shooting stars. They had no idea it was just Apollo fucking his favorite mortal across the stratosphere.

You came screaming his name — and somewhere, a poet was struck with inspiration.

3. In the Oracle’s Chamber at Delphi

The sacred space where his voice speaks through the Pythia and now, through you, when he’s deep inside and you can barely form coherent words.

The first time it happened, he caught you staring a little too long at the bronze tripod where the Oracle sat. He raised a brow and said, “Wanna sit there?” And you, of course, didn’t realize what he meant until he was lowering you onto it, letting you straddle the seat while he knelt before you.

His tongue was devastating. Divine. Almost cruel with how expertly he worked you up, dragging it over your slick folds, licking and sucking like it was ambrosia. He held your thighs open, whispering things no mortal should ever hear — promises of how he’d make you feel like a goddess, if only for a moment.

And then he stood, slid into you with a slow groan, and suddenly you understood why the Oracle spoke in tongues. Because with Apollo inside you, gasping and calling out is the only language that makes sense.

4. In the Middle of a Field of Poppies

Sun-warmed, lazy, dream-dazed sex. One of those days where he’d wrapped himself around you under the golden sun, fingers lazily stroking your skin, feeding you grapes and kisses like you were Persephone and he was trying to lure you into staying forever.

The poppies rustled around you, soft and fragrant, as he slid between your legs with the kind of tenderness that made your chest ache. He didn’t thrust so much as roll into you, every motion a sin made sacred by the way he whispered your name.

This was slow, syrupy sex. Hands in hair. Lips on collarbones. Words like “mine” and “always” murmured like prayers. He made love to you, and then he did it again, even slower, even deeper, until you were boneless and blissed out and wearing nothing but petals and his fingerprints.

5. On the Stage at an Empty Amphitheater

Because Apollo isn’t just the god of prophecy and plague — he’s the god of music, and your moans are his favorite melody.

He sat on the edge of the stage, legs spread, cock hard and leaking, beckoning you forward like you were his next performance. You sank to your knees, mouth parting around him, and he groaned like the first note of a song.

But that wasn’t enough. It never is with him. He pulled you up, bent you over the edge of the platform, and slid into you with a low hiss. The acoustics made everything louder — the slap of skin, the wet sound of your cunt, your broken cries as he fucked you harder and harder, until your voice echoed across the stone walls like some ancient hymn.

He swore later that if anyone ever heard that echo, they’d be compelled to write the next great tragedy. One that begins and ends with a god losing his mind over a mortal like you.

6. In His Sacred Grove — Against a Laurel Tree

Oh, this one was personal.

You were teasing him, wearing one of his laurel crowns and nothing else, lounging among his trees like you owned the place. “You know that’s sacred,” he warned, but you just smiled.

So he made you kneel before the tree, cheek pressed to the bark, while he took you from behind, fingers gripping your hips so tight you bore little bruises shaped like his hands.

“You think you can mock me, little nymph?” he growled against your neck. “I’m a god. Your god.”

You bit back a moan, but he smirked. “Say it. Who do you belong to?”

“Apollo,” you gasped. “I belong to Apollo.”

He didn’t stop until your legs gave out, and even then he lifted you, pinned you to the tree, and fucked you into it like he was staking his claim on nature itself.

7. In His Library — With You Bent Over His Scrolls

Knowledge? Sacred. Learning? Beautiful. But nothing makes Apollo harder than seeing you stretched across his parchment, smudging ink with your sweat and slick.

He had been reading. You had been distracting. And suddenly, you were bent over the desk, skirt bunched around your waist, hands grasping for the edge as he filled you from behind. Scrolls fell to the floor. Candles flickered. The only thing louder than your cries was the sound of his hips slamming into you.

He groaned every time you clenched around him. “You’re ruining centuries of wisdom,” he growled, “and I don’t even care.”

You came with his name on your lips and a map of ancient texts pressed into your back. He came with a curse and a promise — that he’d bind you to him, with words and moans and the kind of pleasure only a god can give.

Honorable Mentions

• In the bath, with golden oils and lazy kisses

• During a thunderstorm, while lightning crackled around you

• In mortal disguise, in a crowded temple, with his fingers inside you while you tried to stay quiet

• Against a mirror, watching you fall apart and loving every second of it

And the best part?

Every time he takes you — no matter the place — he swears he falls a little more. You’re his muse, his madness, his favorite song. And he’ll keep writing you into every verse, every prophecy, every moan that leaves his lips.

Because for Apollo, the god of light, there is nothing more divine than the way you say his name when you come.

[moonstruckme]

I’d love to see you write James and reader who’ve suffered the ‘never the right time’ trope, and finally, it’s the right time. It’s like so soft and just a moment of peace, like ‘finally, finally, it’s our time’. I have literally no ideas further than that, but I know you’d kill this Mae <3

hope you’re having a lovely day!

Thanks for requesting my love! Also, is that a new theme I see?? It's giving me renaissance vibes, like the clouds are going to part and there'll be an oracle and it'll be you ! I'm so here for it

cw: alcohol

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 2.1k words

Sirius and Remus keep fighting over who gets to play the music. Sirius more pointedly, tracking Remus down every time he has to change the record, whereas Remus just sneaks over while his boyfriend is occupied to switch it out again. Now Fleetwood Mac’s come on, and James can only assume Lily has finally stationed herself by the record player. 

A knock sounds at the door. Someone must have ordered pizza, he thinks. Anyone who goes to these things knows that Sirius always leaves the door unlocked. Being the closest to the door, James answers it. 

He thinks he stops breathing when he finds you on the other side, clutching a dissolving paper bag in both hands and nearly wet through. 

“Oh.” You look as surprised to see James as he is to see you. Which doesn’t seem strictly fair, because the last time he checked, he spends practically all of his time here and you live far away. Have since you took that cushy job right after school ended. “Hi, James.” 

“Hi.” His voice is mystified, tinged with the joy of the smile he can’t repress. “What’re you doing here?” 

“Remus invited me.” 

James stares at you. You look somehow exactly the same and yet impossibly more beautiful than he remembers. It’s odd seeing you out of your old school uniform, in a very adult-like coat that comes down to your knees and ties primly at the waist. Your hair is slicked straight by the rain, stuck in damp tendrils to your shoulders, and he swears your face has changed, too, a droplet of rainwater curving over a cheekbone he doesn’t remember being as visible when you were younger. 

“Um, can I come in?” 

“Yes! Yeah.” He steps out of the doorway, and your shoes squelch slightly as you wipe them off on the rug inside the door. James looks around as if for help. He thinks he spots Remus’ head poking out of the kitchen, but then it disappears. “Here, let me take your coat.” 

“Thanks.” You undo the tie for yourself, letting James pull it off your arms. “It’s really good to see you.” 

“You too.” He’s beaming; he can’t stop. “God, I just can’t believe you’re here. Are you in town for a visit?” 

“No, I—” You pause to give him a bemused sort of smile. “Did Remus not tell you? I moved back.” 

James feels like his chest has been hollowed out. Like someone’s taken out his heart and put the sun back in its place. 

“Really?” It comes out more breath than word. He fumbles for his voice back. “You’re back for good?” You nod, biting down on a smile. “When did you get here?” 

“A couple weeks ago,” you say, looking down to step out of your shoes. 

“What?” James’ tone is doing nothing to disguise his astonishment. He’s in no state to try and conceal it. “And we’re not hearing from you until now? You’ve only spoken to Remus?” His hurt goes unvoiced: Why didn’t you come find me?

You look sheepish. “I just ran into him at the store yesterday.” 

“Why didn’t you call?” 

“I didn’t want to assume…” 

You look like you’re trying to shrink away, but James gives chase, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. The cold of your clothes and hair sinks into him, and you both shiver. He only holds you tighter for it, scrubbing a hand up and down your shoulder blade. 

“You should have called,” he says next to your ear. “You know we’ll always want you here, love. We’ve missed you.” I’ve missed you. 

“I missed you guys, too,” you reply, squeezing him back. The paper bag you’re holding digs into his spine. 

James gives himself a couple more seconds before he releases you, taking the bag and unearthing a bottle of wine. 

“Nice of you,” he acknowledges. “Sirius will appreciate it, he loves reds. We should get you warmed up, yeah? Do you want some of this, or I could make you a hot buttered rum?”

You look like you could melt in relief. “A hot drink sounds amazing.” 

“Great.” He grins at you, knowing you have to go but unwilling to let you. If you leave his sight now you might very well disappear for another several years. After a second, his better sense wins and he juts a chin towards the stairs. “Go find something to wear. It’s the last door on the left, and the closet across from the bed should have things that’ll fit you.” 

James sees your protests in your face before they start spewing from your mouth. “Oh, I shouldn’t—” 

“If you go into the kitchen all dripping wet, Remus will only bring you up there himself. Save yourself the time, love. He’d want you to help yourself, trust me.” 

You chew your lip, hesitant, but then another shiver takes you, and James gives you a good-natured shove towards the stairs. 

“Alright,” you capitulate, going. “Thanks, I’ll be right back.” 

“No hurry,” he calls up after you. Then high-tails it for the kitchen. 

“I cannot believe you’ve set me up for ambush like this,” he says as the door swings open for him. His two closest friends look up with expressions of equal guilelessness, though Sirius is putting on far more a show of surprise than his boyfriend. 

“I had no idea!” He insists while James stalks to the cabinet, helping himself to a mug and the supplies to make your drink. “Moony kept it from me, you know I’d have told you if I knew.” 

James glances up at him, then shakes his head, reaching over to flick the kettle on. “No, I don’t believe it. You’ve both been colluding against me.” 

“It’s only against you if it’s not good for you,” says Remus. “And I don’t see how y/n being here is all that bad for you.”  

“Yeah, I’d have thought you’d be fairly chuffed about it,” Sirius agrees, forgoing the innocent act as smirk curves his lips. 

“I am.” James blows out a breath. “I just wasn’t expecting to see her. I didn’t even know she’d moved back.” 

Remus shrugs, cracking open the oven to check on something inside. “Well, I think she might have been afraid to seek you out.” 

“Why would she be?” 

Amber eyes meet James’ with disbelief written all over them. “You know why,” he says softly. 

The kettle finishes boiling, and James turns to pour it over the contents of your mug. “Well, I directed her to Sirius’ closet as retribution.” 

He hears a gasp behind him. “You prick—”

The door to the kitchen swishes open, and you breeze in wearing one of Sirius’ hoodies. 

“Sirius!” 

“Hi!” He’s all smiles as he folds you into a hug, glaring sharply at James over your shoulder. “Fuck, haven’t you become stunning? It’s been awhile, gorgeous.” 

“It has,” you agree, looking slightly flustered by Sirius’ complimenting. Which, James notes, is an improvement over your school days; you were never able to weather it then. “It’s so good to see you.” 

You go to Remus next, and he wraps an arm around your shoulders fondly. “Glad you could come,” he says. 

“Thanks for having me.” Your eyes move between the three of them, seeming to note their placement throughout the kitchen. “Sorry, were you all busy talking about something?” 

“Actually,” Sirius says, “Remus and I were just canoodling when James interrupted, quite rudely I think. If you’re going to join the party, please take him with you.” 

“Alright.” James takes your drink and grabs a cider for himself, nudging you towards the door. “No need to be a dick, just come find us later.” 

Sirius winks at you both as James ushers you out, Remus sending him a long-suffering look from by the oven. 

“Nice to know some things don’t change,” you laugh, finding a space on the couch for you both. 

“Yeah,” James sets your drink down in front of you, “I doubt those two ever will.” 

“Thanks. Ooh, this is nice.” You take the clear mug between your hands, lifting it up to admire the liquid inside. “When did Remus get so posh?” 

“Well, Sirius lives here now.” 

“Oh!” Your eyes widen, surprise and maybe a little of something else. “Wow, that’s so lovely for them. Then, is this Sirius’ sweatshirt I’m wearing?” 

James chuckles. “You could tell, huh?” 

“None of those looked like Remus’ clothes. Are we punishing him for something?” 

He raises his own drink to his lips, hiding his smile. They’ve always come especially easily around you. “Perhaps.” 

You hum, take a sip from your mug, and hum again. “Shit, this is really good. Thank you.” 

The praise settles comfortably in James’ stomach, as warm and mind-fuzzing as if he’s had a gulp of your drink himself. “Anytime, sweetheart.” 

This time, he notices your eyes flicker away from his at the endearment. “So,” you say conversationally, “how’s Lily?” 

Ouch. James glances behind you to where Lily has pulled a chair over near the record player. She’s sipping from a glass of red wine that’s only a couple of shades darker than her hair, smiling at something Pandora’s saying. 

“She’s good,” he says. Then, somewhat abruptly, “We’re not together anymore.” 

Your eyes flit to his, something almost like guilt twinging across your features. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” you say. The caring in your face is nearly too much; James wants to take it between his hands and kiss it all over. “Are you okay?” 

He gives you a smile. “Yeah,” he says sincerely. Perhaps with too much feeling, because your eyebrows bunch slightly. “It happened a long time ago. Not long after you left, actually.” 

“Oh.” You nod, and James finds himself watching you more carefully than he normally might. He waits for the sense of bliss he’s feeling to find its way into your expression, but you still appear hesitant. “Can I ask if something happened? You just, you were together for so long…”

It’s true. Most people they knew, even Remus and Sirius, thought Lily and James would be married someday. In the end, it just seemed that they’d been together for so long that their relationship had become a routine instead of a choice. They were cohabitors more than partners, and when they were doing everything they could to spend time away from their shared home, Lily had been the only one brave enough to call them both out on it. 

“We just wanted different things,” James says. Namely, Lily wanted Mary and James wanted you. Had for too many years. 

You make a soft sound. “I suppose that’s how it goes, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “So, come on—you’ve had my update, let’s have yours. How did you like your job?” 

You pair your shrug with a small smile. “Not very well, honestly. I don’t think I really fit there.” James tsks sorrily, and you shrug again. “It’s just as well. I missed you all too much. I wanted to give it a try there and I did, but I’m glad to be back.” 

“Ah, well,” James says. “I suppose that’s how it goes, isn’t it?” 

It’s a terrible joke, but you laugh, the sound like water trickling over stone. He feels the smile spread on his face. 

“I really have missed you,” he says, earnestness aching in the back of his throat. 

A similar sentiment reflects back at him in your eyes. “Same here.” 

“I’m glad you’re here.” 

“I’m glad I am, too.” 

“Would you want to get coffee tomorrow?” With anyone else the invitation would seem abrupt, but your smile looks something like relief. You’ve both been waiting for this for too long. 

“That sounds nice,” you say. 

“Great.” James can hear the love in his own voice. It’s probably written all over his face, too. Just as well. “There’s a new cafe by my place that has really good almond croissants, would you want to meet there?” 

You nod, not trying to downplay your happiness. His heart swells to see it. “I love almond croissants,” you say. 

James remembers. It’s one of the things he’s glad to know about you. There was a small, censured part of him that took satisfaction in knowing those things even when he was with Lily. It’s not something he’s ever been proud of, but a spark of that satisfaction comes back now. 

“Perfect,” he replies. Behind you, Remus is letting Sirius pull him out of the kitchen. Remus folds himself into an unoccupied chair, where Sirius happily sprawls across his lap. They’re both pretending not to be watching you. “How’s one?” 

“Not soon enough,” you say without hesitation. You take another sip of your drink, miming unconcern, but your eyes are playful. “Ten?” 

James feels like his face could split in half. “Ten it is.” 

[winged-self-indulgence]

I was daydreaming about the different TS characters playing with my MC's hair and the one for Leander grew legs. Hoping to do Ais later but I had to get this down for my own sake lmao. Leander x GN!Unnamed!MC with long hair (I use the gender neutral "you" but my MC is female so the POV might seem more fem-aligned).

You know it is Leander at the door before he ever knocks.

The noise from the bar is low this early in the day and muffled by the layers of wood and the thin carpet that covers part of the dusty floor. No matter how much you mop and sweep, your room remains frustratingly grimy – courtesy of Eridia’s dismal weather. The humid weather and the rising river waters transform the already battered streets into muddy lanes. Then the yellow blazing sun by day bakes it hard, allowing the hurried steps of Lowtown crowds to kick clouds of dirt into every open window that must be left as such lest the room turn into an oven. 

You know Leander’s steps almost as well as you know your own. You suspect most people do, clad as he is in thick-soled boots tipped with shimmering gold. They thump when he walks, a particularly solid sound that makes you tilt your head.

“Come in!” You call. That is the best you can do, as you are too focused on the task at hand to open the door for him.

He peers around the door courteously, smiling when he sees you. “There you are! Are you busy?” He asks, leaning against the doorframe.

The afternoon sun flickers over his dagger shaped earring and draws your attention to the inviting crease of his lips. Leander smiles a lot, which is still a little disconcerting. No one has ever smiled at you so genuinely before, at least not without expectation of a reward. The most devout of your temple, the priests who had cared for you in that isolated sanctuary, had always been strict with you. Growing up you were at once a prophet, a deity, a divine herald, a messiah. Everything except a child.

You do not know what to do with the fluttering feeling in your chest, so you just shrug. “Not particularly. Why?”

It is true, you aren’t strictly busy, but you are currently engaged in a task. Specifically, your hair. Being on the road for so long had taken its toll, and now that you had a room and access to (somewhat) clean water, you’d taken the opportunity to wash away the grime of the past several weeks.

You are sitting in front of the desk and peering into the shard of mirror you’d snagged from a merchant. The broken thing is propped up in front of you, and you are working an almost toothless comb through the tangles.

“Well, I was planning to swing by a cafe to take my afternoon break, and then I remembered my favourite oracle hadn’t gotten a chance to try the local cuisine,” he steps into the room, accessories chiming softly as he approaches you with the grace of a famed thespian. “If we get there before the lunch rush, I promise to buy you the best muhallebi this side of Lowtown. I know you’ve got a sweet tooth.”

“Muhallebi?” You try not to give away the way your spine straightens at the mention of milk pudding. You wonder if the cafe makes it with pistachios. You want to say yes, but then you remember the solid weight of your still damp locks and the comb in your hand. “Oh…thanks for the offer, but I’m a little busy…”

You cannot see his face in the mirror, it only shows your own and his broad chest filling up the scuffed glass. Yet you feel more than you see his approach, the looming presence of his being as it casts a green-tinged shadow over your seated form.

“You have lovely hair,” he comments, idle but no less frank. “May I…?”

Confusion stymies your tongue until you notice an ungloved hand in your periphery. Then you nod jerkily and fight back the urge to shudder when you feel long fingers running through your hair. The touch is gentle, as though your split-ends and knotted locks are gossamer and spun gold. The air behind you thrums, and you snap without thinking, “Don’t you dare use magic on my hair!”

He laughs, breathy and warm. “I wouldn’t dare. Not without your permission, anyhow,” he shows you what he has conjured: a comb, golden and fine. It runs through your hair like water, and you lower your own snapped instrument to the table.

“I’ll admit, I’ve never seen hair so long before,” Leander comments as he works a knot smooth. “Is there a reason you keep it this way?”

“It was…encouraged back home,” you say evasively. Required. Demanded even. All of you was seen as sacred, and what little needed to be snipped off for the sake of proper grooming was ritualistically burned in the temple flames. After all, what if some nefarious evil got hold of a piece of you and used it to cast some horrific spell?

You didn’t know if magic really worked like that, but you had never lost the aversion to cutting your hair.

“We can’t really cast love spells with people’s hair, you know.”

“What-?!” You jump and whip around, wondering if he’d read your mind.

Leander chuckles at your expression, his dark eyes creasing with amusement that makes your stomach swoop. “A lot of visitors to Eridia think that. One of the problems of having all the world’s magic concentrated in one place. Stories get spread with no one around to correct fact from deeply exaggerated fiction.”

“Ah,” you blush and turn back to the mirror, glad you can’t see his face. Still, you can’t help but tease, “I take it you also can’t cast moneymaking spells with fingernails?”

“Only under the waxing moon on the third month of every leap year,” he replies blithely, and you share a laugh. This is nice. You haven’t felt this relaxed around another person in…months? Years? The moment is honey-sweet. Sticky and slow and golden in the afternoon sunlight. You don't even mind the arid heat, or the noise of the Lowtown streets below.

As soon as he is done combing your hair, you gather it into your hands and begin braiding. Leander offers to help, but you prefer to do this part yourself. You enjoy the easy rhythm of twisting and twining the now smooth strands, though his rapt attention makes you feel a little clumsy. You can almost feel his rapt gaze on the back of your head. Emerald eyes singeing the nape of your neck and burning the tips of your fingers.

Once you’re done, you reach for your ribbon to tie the bun in place, but find it gone from the table. You turn, expecting it to have fallen to the floor, and find Leander at your side. You hadn’t even heard him approach.

“Here, let me…” he murmurs, and a gentle hand covers yours. He takes your hair and deftly twists your hair into a neat series of loops before securing it in place. “There we go. Gorgeous.”

“Thanks Leander,” you admire the neat hairdo in the mirror. Your hair feels more secure, and you assume he must have tied it a little more firmly than you are able to.

"You should call me next time," he offers. There's a boyish smile on his face as he offers his bicep to you. "My invitation still stands, by the way."

"Lead on then," you roll your eyes, feeling a heady thrill as you rest your bandaged fingers on the exposed skin of his forearm. "That pudding better be delicious."

"It will be," he promises grandly as he shuts the door behind you, "And if it's not, I'll just have to take you out again until we find the best muhallebi in Eridia."

On the floor, your ribbon lies decaying into grey ash that you will sweep away come evening. You will not notice its absence, or its replacement, but others will. The Adders will hide their stares, but you will feel their attention regardless and chalk it up to your status as a newcomer. Mhin will glance at the top of your head and grimace, hesitate, and then take their pay without comment. Kuras's luminous eyes will widen ever so slightly, but the doctor will not push where he isn't wanted.

Ais and Vere would have said something, but they are not here, and so you will not know. You will not know until night falls and you retire to your room. You will not know until you raise your hand, and rather than meet roughspun fabric, your fingers will bump up against cool gemstone.

You will pull it free, and find within your grasp a jade hairpin, pale and intricately carved, and set with shimmering ivory lilies.

[lady-ashfade]

Blood And Pressure

Part two

Yandere!Pjo x Fem!Grisha!reader. (Platonic Yandere gods) (romantic!various characters)

-♡ Chapter: Previous // Next

-♡ characters: Percy Jackson, Luke Castellan, Clarisse La Rue, Grover Underwood, Annabeth Chase.

-♡ this is a shadow & bone slight crossover. Reader is a heartrender and that's all really (maybe more in the future!)

-♡ Please note that all characters are aged appropriately, so all characters are older versions of the book characters. So 17-19 characters for these, you can choose any of them really.Just that they are older teens.

-♡ I will be imagining Charlie Bushnell as Luke.

-♡warning : short, yandere behaviors, obsession, stalking. slightly sick love, possessive, manipulative, gaslighting. platonic yandere too, blood powers, powerful powers but not godly, and future warnings when more chapters come out.

This was the best moment of your life. The camp was beautiful. You got to see real people training together, not just the ones that come into the infirmary. And Percy was just as amazed as you. It was cool to see someone your own age being new to camp, and that you could use him to get yourself out of that damn house.

Percy made you smile with his small jokes and comments about the place. Which caused Chiron to look between you two without you knowing. You never looked so happy.

“There is a place for you,” chiron points to one of the cabins. A flag hanging from the roof was Hermes and you smile, they welcomed everyone. Many kids ended up in the infirmary after their pranks and you loved to hear the stories.

Percy was to go into the cabin and start his new life while you had to watch and then go back. Of course you were happy for him to have a place. But it would go back to being alone.

“What about y/n?” Percy turned to you with a brow raised. “Don’t you have a cabin?” Before you could answer, the centaur answered for you.

“She is not a Demigod,” he moved his hooves closer and puts a hand on your shoulder. You sigh and nod, “she stays with us. Now say your goodbyes.”

Pushing everything you felt back you mange to give the boy a big smile, “good luck Percy.” And his name in your mouth lift him smitten along with your smile.

He couldn’t wrap his head around why you were here to just stay in the big house. This was a camp for half-bloods and you weren’t one…he wasn’t sure what you were. So why keep you locked up?

“I think y/n should see the inside.” He turn his gaze to the larger man. You could see the mischief on his face.

“I mean, you said you’d give them a tour and haven’t showed them what the insides look like? I think you should keep to your word.”

You cover your mouth with a giggle and he finds himself taking another glance at you with growing pride. However Chiron wasn’t as happy about this because he wanted to get you home and away from everyone…just like the oracle said to.

“I agree, now if you’ll excuse us.” You turn your head and grab ahold of Percy’s hand and start to walk to the cabin door. You had a mission to see everything that you could!

Percy turned brighter by each second and followed you with a clouded head. He stares at the way your hand felt on his. Maybe he could find a way to keep you with him at all time. His chest filled with butterflies and he couldn’t help but to squeeze your hand back as you pull him along.

The cabin was full of campers and bunks crowded around everywhere. You didn’t know what you were expecting but this wasn’t it. I mean the cabin should have been much bigger with the amount of kids that came in, even Hermes had many kids. Just for a second you felt out of place until your eyes set upon another…ones you have looked into before.

Eyes that looked at you many times, the only boy you had a conversation with before. With a scar running across his cheek.

“Well, aren’t we lucky.” The boy stepped closer to you both. His lips curled into a smirk as everyone else the cabin turn to look at you both. The mystery girl and the new boy who took down a minotaur. A odd pair to be seen together.

Percy tightened his hold on your hand at the way he was looking into your eyes and inching closer. Who was this guy? If only he could throw his arm around you to show he already had his claim.

“Luke Castellan.” The slightly taller boy introduced himself. His eyes looked away from you and he was met with percy harsh gaze. The only one now to stop the contest they seemed to have was Chiron who walked behind you.

Camp seemed to get more interesting by the second.

Taglist: @maria699669 @gorgeourrific-nerd @targaryenluvs @theaaeht @dabalyuteeeftia @alliriseabove

[cosmic-ghost-hermit]

How are You Seen and How is Your Style Perceived?

Hey fellas!! This reading is a suggestion from @evaalison72020!!! Thank you so much for your request! The decks used today are The Tarot of the Divine, The Moonology Oracle, and Believe In Your Own Magic Oracle. Take what resonates and leave the rest but always be ready for new perspectives.

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Drop your reading suggestions in my inbox for future PAC. Thank you all in advance! Love you🤍

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PILE ONE

Astrology: Leo, Pisces, Virgo (maybe cancer)

Song: Her Diamonds by Rob Thomas

Vibes: Green, red, yellow, ohi'a tree blossoms, intense emotion, crabs, birch tree, Pele, bow staff, modeling, boho fashion, photography, 999, 4444, swords, lotus root, dragons, monkeys, selenite, howlite

Cards: Queen of Wands, King of Cups, Judgement, Supermoon, Garden

Hello, pile one! I am really digging y'all's energy. You have a very androgynous energy so people have a lot of variety in how they perceive you. I think first I will start with your style and ease into those who know you a bit deeper. So, your style is very earth-toned. How you dress tells people that you are reasonable and balanced. You hate wearing shoes so you don't wear them if you don't have to. You might have a touch of fantasy in your accessories. I see crystal bracelets or pendulum necklaces. You like to wear loose-fitting clothes that make you feel free. I'm specifically seeing a long red skirt. It's about knee length. If a skirt doesn't resonate it could also be a red jacket or sweater that you tie around your waist. People initially see a really free spirit with a whimsical side. People might be surprised by your free spirit but not usually put off by it. You have a very cheerful vibe to you that makes people feel at home. They view you as light on your feet and a positive influence on everything around you. However, occasionally you get excited by something and your eyes narrow in. You have a very intense stare. It can be pretty intimidating.

As for the androgyne tones I was feeling earlier I will now explain a little further. So, you sorta reflect gender at people. This is not to say you are gender fluid or nonbinary but that is a possibility. The vibe I am getting is whatever gender the person perceiving you is, is the gender they see you as. Which can drastically change how people see you, in my experience. Women see you as safe to be around. Men see you as capable and responsible. Nonbinary people see you as a comrade. This also brings in a lot of suiters that get confused by your presentation. I hear many people see you and think, "Woah, did you see them? They looked so cool." These people are always too shy to say anything to you though.

The people who are closest to you view you entirely differently. They know you well enough to see your truest emotion. Your emotions are as intense as the stare I talked about earlier. You have the heart of a dragon. It is difficult to express the deep feelings a dragon would feel through a humans body. It comes out as explosive bursts of immense sensational expression. You are the one laughing the hardest, crying the most, screaming the loudest, burning with fury and jumping all around when you get excited. The people closest to you see you as powerful because of this. They know you are harmless but if challenged you can be extremely dangerous. You are the king of sentiment though so the ones closest never get caught in the crossfire of your emotional depth.

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PILE TWO

Astrology: Cancer, Scorpio, Gemini

Song: Daddy AF by Slayyyer (spirit picked this one... not sure why)

Vibes: Purple, storm cloud blue, peach pink, cranes, wings, bindi, bangs/fringe, sake, green tea, circles, red lips, 222, 555, amethyst, rose quartz, Kali, Lilith, Hekate, Persephone

Cards: The High Priestess, Ace of Cups, Three of Swords, Mirror, Full Moon in Cancer

Welcome, pile two to your reading. You are scene as very mysterious. The public eye doesn't know what to make of you. Honestly, I can see the mystery in the cards but I am also struggling to tap into you. You are very guarded but very beautiful. If you have ever heard of the term kuudere, I think that would be pretty accurate to how to are perceived . If you are unfamiliar with the term it just means you seem very in control of you emotions. So much so that you might come off as cold to some people. You appear to be serene outwardly but on the inside I see you have many different emotions. The style you wear is similar to how your emotions are displayed. Serene and mysterious. I see you could wear spiritual clothing that is meant for spiritual protection. Overall, the public views as an extremely beautiful but private individual that is low-key spiritual.

You have a dark feminine energy to you. This can draw in those who are fascinated by mystery. You don't like to let people close to you though because of painful situations you have been in before. I see you have experienced many heartbreaks and have given many sacrifices to people who did not meet you with gratitude. You honestly didn't let this eat you up inside. You moved forward with confidence and led yourself towards loving yourself. You worked towards the relationship you had with yourself and you resolved a lot of pain that you carried with. Entirely because you were fed up with people breaking your heart. You decided you wanted the person closest to you to stop breaking it too. You.

Those who can even reach the idea of being close to you view you as much softer than the public. They still see you as pretty mysterious but they can see that you are very sweet and accommodating. They have seen you at your worst and watched you kick ass all the way through. They see you as the baddest bitch on the block. It is very rare for you to have people close to you but when there are you are very loyal. You like to invite them over for drinks and thats when you let your truest self shine. You are an absolute riot. You have the wittiest joke and the funniest comebacks even when you are intoxicated. You have allowed yourself to cry on a friends shoulder over drinks too. Alcohol really loosens that vice grip you have on your emotions. I see you really only let your best friend see these parts of you. This person views you as their favorite person on earth. They really truly believe you are an angel. They have supported you through a couple really hard break-ups. I think they will always be the closest one to your heart.

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PILE THREE

Astrology: Aquarius, Capricorn, Taurus

Song: Little Lies by Fleetwood Mac

Vibes: Grey-blue, gold, purple, white, stain glass windows, arctic foxes, wolves, yokai, beetles, sharks, snow, ice, winter, 111, 963, 100, red hair, feathers, black tourmaline, Ares, Hephaestus, Hestia

Cards: 6 of Pentacles, 5 of Pentacles, 3 of Pentacles, New Moon, Shark

Hi, pile three! You have an entirely different impression you often give than how you actually are. Those who see you would not be able to guess how you actually are. You give a very scary vibe off to people. Strangers are intimidated by your appearance. Which is such a shame because your energy is so warm and inviting. :( You are very tall and have a broad figure with wide shoulders. You tower over most people. If you aren't physically tall people still get that energy of intimidation from your energy. People scurry out of your way as you walk past and avoid looking you in the eyes. You also have very strong eye brows which might give you real bad RBF. Those who aren't scared off by you, hold a lot of envy for how much you command attention. I also see you have really long beautiful legs that people comment on all the time. They mostly seem like complements but they probably don't really feel like it. They want to be like you but they just don't understand how much it actually bothers you to be as big as you are. I'm so sorry to you about all the door frames you run into and all the beds you have grown out of. It's tough be a big person.

Despite all your physical appearances, you have a lovely soft feminine energy. It is so nice to be in it feels like the biggest, softest, warmest bear hug to ever exist. You are a wonderful host. I can smell something really good so you might be an excellent cook or baker. I see you love to give back to your community through this skill. Which makes those a bit closer see you as this protective loving parental energy. I see you baking cookies for your neighbors and maybe your church. I can feel how happy you make people feel the closer they get to you. You have such a soft heart with a rough outer exterior. It does throw some of your neighbors kids for a loop at first.

Finally, those who are closest to you see you as extremely generous and kind. They know the world thinks you have sharp claws but they know that they are mistaking paws for claws. They love being around you and working together to help being a safer community. They know you give to charity and work in a place that helps those in needs. They see you as the sweetest, nicest person they have ever met in their lives. They wouldn't trade you for anyone. They trust you with their lives. If they are in any danger or in need they call you first. I think maybe at some point you had someone slander your good name because of your appearances. All your closest community friends and family came to your defense and saved your reputation. They truly, deeply care for you and I think you feel the exact same.

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PILE FOUR

Astrology: Aries, Libra, Sagittarius

Song: Cooler Than Me (Cover) by Ethan Fields

Vibes: Gold, black, teal, white flowers, maximalism, alternative fashion, lily pads, frogs, 333, 4646, leaves, vines, coral, mountains, low gravity, forests, fairies, pixies, unicorns, culture, tigers eye, Zues, Aphrodite, Eros

Cards: Queen of Cups, 3 of Cups, Ace of Pentacles, Full Moon, Expectations

Hey there, pile four. Welcome to your reading! People outside of your circle see you are drop dead gorgeous. You make everyone question their sexuality or fall to their knees. Even your friends flirt with you constantly. You obviously flirt back just for funsies but thaaat can get you into some romantic fiascos that you never had any intention in getting into. Oops, lmao! I see strangers see you in two different lights. There are people who are stunned by your handsomeness. They are the ones turning their heads to get a second look. ;) Theeeeen there are the people who think you are doing way too much just because you like looking good. Thats dumb. Those people are dumb. Their opinions do not matter. That's because you are one of a kind! No one can match your style and brilliance. No one has the confidence to do what you do and make it look THAT good. AND THE BEST PAAART is that everyone knows it. Even if they are acting nasty about it. I see you like to wear lots of jewelry. Chains on chains on jewels on chains. You aren't addicted to glitter. Glitter is addicted to YOU!!! You love to do stuff with your hair too. I see you might have many wigs that you love to trade out. People are always convinced it's your real hair. Everyday you get more and more admirers. The public can not get enough of you.

Your energy is interesting. It is feminine but it presents in such a masculine way. You have this go getter vibe to you but then everything seems to come your way before you can even step towards it. It's like for a long time you had to fight for what you wanted but now people just hand you things you want before you can even ask. When people get closer to you, they just seem to give you things randomly. They will hook you up with their connections. Literally people are doing your networking for you. The way people see you gives you many opportunities in life. Don't worry about getting the opportunities yourself, baby. The universe loves to spoil you through your admirers.

The people closest to you see that you are a go with the flow kind of person. The universe pushes you somewhere and you just let it push you along like a leaf in the wind. Some of your closest friends think you are nuts but they know it always seems to work out for you anyway. Even if you don't make sense to them. They see you are a surviver and they know how ruthless you can be, babe. They see these as extremely admirable traits. The people closest to you feel like they have been around you since you were young so they like to mess with you like siblings would. It is pretty easy to get close to you though so they might not all be that way. They view you as loyal, kind, fun and unique. They wouldn't have you any other way.

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 21

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 20, Part 22

Warning! This series is SAGAU and Imposter AU so expect gore. Although this chapter focus more on mental distress rather then physical.

There's a soft light that shines in front of you, lulling you to open your eyes. Pure white greets you as you slowly come to your senses.

There's no feeling in your body, but it doesn't worry you. The boundless white space you exist in is comforting. The sky whirls around you as new colors burst into being.

The once blank canvas is now painted a dark sky on your left with stars sparkling like jewels. On your right is the morning sky, bright blue with clouds adorning it delicately.

It's silent but peaceful. Your relaxed conscious is stirred from its slumber by a voice echoing around you.

“Why have you returned?” 

It’s commanding, yet graceful. A cold compassion or a warm hostility?

“The deal has been finalized, and your return was never meant to be. No, that's incorrect.” A pensive hum is heard before the voice continues.

“You were meant to return at some point, but… not now, not yet. Teyvat seems to have sped up the process. While that doesn’t break the deal, I certainly won’t tolerate it amicably.”

A darker tone is used at the end of their words, before the gorgeous sky is overcome by dark red blocks. The serenity you feel is replaced by panic. You’re helpless to stop it from taking over everything.

Your vision begins to swarm with the blood-colored familiar blocks. As crimson takes over, the voice finishes their words.

“I won’t let you back so easily.” The last bits of your vision is covered and your lungs wheeze from the pain of the panic-

“Gasp-” 

You sit up in the bed as sweat dots your skin, your lungs burn, and your fingers tremble from the grip you have on the covers. Eyes darting around the small room you’re in, your brain is unable to process everything as it spins.

The dream lingers in your mind. The red blocks poke at the edge of your eyes, the voice continues to echo through your mind. Leaning back, you rest your head on the headboard, the cool wood is a relief on your sweaty skin.

Releasing your bruising grip on the blankets, you rest your palms on your chest. You do your best to pay no mind to how your hands shake. Closing your eyes, a breath is inhaled and kept in.

One… That painting like sky, where else could you see something similar?

Two… The voice that spoke about Teyvat and you so casually, as if knowing everything.

Three… A status similar to an Archon, or mage? No, maybe even higher.

Four… Those red blocks have only been seen once before.

Five… You know who it is now.

The breath is exhaled, and your eyes flutter open at your revelation. Not like she was meaning to hide it. In fact, you could be certain that she wanted you to know that she was Celestia.

Sunlight begins to stream past the edges of the curtain, the wooden floor is cold against your bare feet as you get off the bed. Yanking the curtains and opening the window, you’re greeted with the sun barely peeking out and dew still present on the greenery. 

The thought of how early you’ve been forced awake already sours your mood further.

It’s not anytime near 9 am, you would be lucky if it was half past 7 am. Sighing, you flop back onto the bed and reach for that connection between you and Teyvat.

‘Did you see that dream?’ You ask as you stare out the window from your spot. Silence envelops the room as you wait patiently. The soft beating of wings comes from the window, a Geo Crystalfly glides into the room before resting on the bedding next to you.

‘I’ll take that as a yes. What deal did Celestia make that involves me? What part did you play in speeding up my migration to this world?’ Staring firmly at the Crystalfly you remain in your spot. 

The amber wings pause and the rocky outline stick together, keeping the wings closed. The crystal exterior body offers no answer to your expectant eyes.

‘Why won’t you respond now? You’re not Zhongli who is obligated to abide by a contract. Am I not your god?’ A bubble of frustration rises at the continued silence. The Crystalfly lowers itself further against the sheets, as if bowing to you.

But you didn’t want a useless bow. You wanted answers.

‘This situation fundamentally involves me. You, or Celestia, or whoever else is in this mess brought me here. And now I’m stuck acting out this stupid Oracle role and I can’t even get a single answer as to why?’

More Geo Crystalflies enter the room, all of them perch on the bed and mimic the bowing gesture. As if that useless, passive action could subdue your ire.

‘I’ve spent every day in this damn world fighting for my life! I just barely recovered from the brink of death! And yet when I ask about this strange situation and suspicious behavior, I get no response? NOT EVEN AN INDIRECT ONE?!’

Maybe it was all the stress you’ve been under, or the pain that still lingers in your body. Some would even say it was all the emotional hurt you’ve felt at having all the characters you treasured dearly treat you like this. But you couldn’t stop yourself from raising your hand in anger, rapidly coming down on the quivering Crystalflies that just refused to move-

Clink!

Your hand is abruptly stopped by the sound of metal hitting the table. You tore your eyes away from the Crystalflies to land on a weasel sitting on the table, a single mora lays at it’s feet.

Recognizing it vaguely as the weasel thief or mora weasels that treasure hoarders train, you stare at it unimpressed. It comes closer to you as the Crystalflies gently flap away to form a path. Beady eyes stare up at you pleadingly as the backpack on it jingles with all the mora inside.

Fingers unbuckling the straps, you remove the backpack and peer into the bag. The brown bag must only hold about 500 Mora, but mora is still mora, and you empty it into your bag. Once finished, you turn back to the Crystalflies ready to intimidate and interrogate more. You only refrain when the scurrying of multiple feet catches your attention.

What has to be at least 10 weasel thieves climbing through the open window, all carrying bags stuffed to the brim. Some hold 750 Mora, while others hold 1,000. Each time you unclip the bag and pour the mora into your bag. And each time you turn towards the Crystalflies, more weasels come through.

“Alright, alright, I get it.” You groan aloud as you ignore the assortment of weasels in the room, choosing to instead sit on the bed. The Crystalflies return to the bowing position as you gaze down at them with an unreadable expression.

Carefully, you scoop up the first Crystalfly that arrived into your hands, guilt of what you had almost done wraps around your heart like a vice.

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to hit you. Although this whole gatekeeping vital information is annoying, you’ve been nothing but helpful to me. Besides, you may be keeping quiet due to a threat of some sort that the divulging of information could pose.’

You could hear the sounds of the weasels returning with more and more gifts. No doubt a way for Teyvat to show its gratitude to your ‘mercy’. With pursed lips, you ignore the actions and speak to Teyvat gently.

‘I’m afraid, Teyvat. Afraid that Celestia will take drastic measures to keep me from ‘returning’ or whatever. I’m 99% that Celestia is the one who disabled my teleporting feature and why I was only able to telepathically teleport those few times. For all I know, it could be a permanent disability. I don’t want to be limited more than I already am. If it goes too far, then I may even lose those things that proved me as an Oracle. And if that happens…’

Trailing off, you close your eyes and let out a bitter sigh. Setting the Geo Crystalfly back down, its amber wings fluttering in response, you turn to the weasels. Bags of mora, jewelry, wild fruit and small gemstones are beginning to fill up the table.

Opening the flap of your bag, you point at it and then at the table. “I want you guys to put all of that into my bag. If you have bags for me to open for you, bring them to me.”

A resounding trill is heard from them before the horde of Crystalflies flew out of the window. Deciding to leave the window open, you grab the letters and gifts from your previous visitors and bring them onto the bed.

The pitter-patter of the weasels feet and occasional flap of the Geo Crystalflies wing is heard in the background as you prepare for the day. Exiting the room and crossing the silent halls, you get to what has to be the bathroom and finish your morning routine.

The shower you take was the perfect opportunity to examine how your body is after all the healing. The bandages are removed and disposed of as you look into the foggy mirror. 

Small scars in the shape of slits are seen on your body, Yelan’s arrows were no joke. The ice from Shenhe’s attacks left lighter toned patches on your calves too. Minor bruises and cuts were still healing up, but the small sting from the water didn’t bother you. If anything, it was the jagged and uneven scars along your spine that brought your mood down. 

You were lucky that your broken spine didn’t cut into your spinal cord and paralyze you…

Changing into clean clothes and wrapping some new bandages, you do it all with a sense of apathy. Wouldn’t the thought of nearly being paralyzed have more of an effect? Yet when you thought of it, you could only imagine a sense of relief…

Looking back at the now clear mirror, you reach up for your mask. The battered mask is slipped off and placed on the counter. Familiar eyes stare back, and a grimace plays on your lips.

A purple bruise makes itself known on your temple, and poorly cared for skin muddles your features. The bridge of your nose, the eyes that crinkle at your attempt of a smile, even the way your full face comes together is so-

Foreign.

It’s not yours, not anymore. 

It’s the Creators. The God that everyone worships as the one and only bearer of gold blood and highest form of authority.

Y/N does not have a face. 

You have a title and a mask to be known by. A manner of speaking that leaves all to be swindled and led by without a true clue as to what goes on. 

Licking your cracked lips, you adorn the mask once more and return to the room. Both the weasels and Crystalflies have already left, leaving it bare of activity. Closing the bag absentmindedly, you grab the medication bottles left on your bedside table. 

Following the instructions Baizhu told you last night, you drink the medication as prescribed and gag at the taste. Setting all the medication aside, you sit down on the bed again and stare at the pile on the bed.

The letters and gifts from everyone that tried to visit are quickly sorted into two piles. You dig into the designated gift pile first.

A small box is opened to reveal a pair of armored fingerless gloves. It’s not super hard to guess your size, but they fit perfectly. The second and cuter box is opened with a delicious scent imprinting its first impression.

No one else could make food that smells this good except for Xiangling. Taking advantage of the early hours AKA no Baizhu, you wolf down the meal without properly admiring it. The spicy dish won’t do your still sensitive stomach any favors, but at least you enjoyed it.

A folded up paper is the next gift. Unraveling it shows a crude drawing of a brown haired girl with a pink flower, a tall man with glasses, a boy with a color palette you barely remember and a masked figure that had to be you. 

Yiran, the little girl that you saved, had to be the one who drew this. That’s who must have spread the word and why Baizhu asked you to be lenient. Only her father, Kuan, could afford to bring her here.

The uneven letters spelling ‘My Heroes!’ at the bottom of the drawing made you smile a little. It was good that she was not only healed enough, but also happy enough to draw this for you. 

The boy next to her in the drawing brought a sadder feeling. You didn’t remember him, but you did remember his mother. Her gaunt face and pale complexion came to mind as you pocketed the drawing. You weren’t sure if you could handle facing her.

The next gift evoked a stronger sense of despair as a patchy pouch was opened to show various knick-knacks. Pretty rocks, a tin with a string, shiny coins and worn out dice. You were familiar with the nature of these objects.

Most would see it as trash, but you knew it to be toys that were just as much, if not more fun, than the toys found in shops. Bored kids with nothing to do and nothing to use will find ways to entertain themselves, and being impoverished only fuels their creativity. 

Trying to push away those nostalgic melancholic feelings, you open the last gift. A simple string necklace with a dark blue stone hanging from it laid in the box. The icy blue engraved symbol on it reminded you of Chongyun.

After disposing the trash, you put the drawing and the pouch into your bag. You reached for the letters next and opened the first one that you touched.

It was from Kuan, not unexpected, but you were interested in seeing what he had to say. What part he played in your identity getting spread around.

Most of it was profuse thanks for your completion of the commission and that the Adventurers Guild had the payment. Then it was how once Yiran had woken up, she had sneaked into the room when Baizhu was working and saw you.

Apparently she hadn’t been able to heal properly and was stuck on bed rest due to her grief. The kidnapping, death of her friend and finding out that you were going to be punished by the Adepti from the other kids created a mental block preventing her from healing.

But after seeing you and that you were still alive, her pain was eased enough that she was able to finally recover. You felt bad that she was sick all this time while you were being chased down, but she’s better now. And that’s all that mattered.

The next letter was actually from Kazuha. It detailed the sights that he had seen during his exploration of the Lisha area. It quickly turned into how panicked he felt when the wind pushed him to return to Liyue Harbor. The agonizing pain he felt over the rumors of a masked person being rushed into Bubu’s Pharmacy.

As no visitors were allowed, he went to Beidou and relayed the news. She had already finished her business and was preparing to leave. So he left you this letter and the armored gloves from Beidou.

Folding up the letter with the red and orange patterned leaf, you put it back into your bag. A knock on the door caught your attention before it opened slightly to show Qiqi.

“Oh, you’re awake.” She stands at the door frame until you nod, allowing her inside. She ambles inside with a cart of food and medicine. “Please take your medicine with the tea and eat the breakfast.” 

She leaves just as quick as she came. As you weren’t starving after Xianglings meal, you took your time with breakfast. The medicine even with the tea tasted pretty bad.

Grabbing the next letter, a faint scent of food lingers on it, letting you know who sent it. Xiangling’s letter was small enough to be confused for a note, but it still easily conveyed her wreck of emotions. It ended with her mourning the fact that she couldn’t visit after dropping off the letter due to a rematch with a Monstadter that she scheduled long in advance.

A letter with a fancy wax seal was next. Opening it, you found the most horrendous handwriting you’ve ever seen. No matter how many times you rubbed your fingers on it, hoping that Tevyat could translate the mess of a letter, it just wouldn’t get any better.

The most you could make out was that Xingqui and Chongyun tried to visit but were denied. That the amulet was a gift from Chongyun that had a spell to protect you from evil spirits. And finally, that they're going to visit sometime today.

Didn’t Xingqui have some connection with Albedo? That would be an easy way to be innocently introduced into Mondstadt.

The next one thankfully did have eligible handwriting, it was a mix of bold letters and graceful strokes. Yun Jin and Xinyan both came to visit, but only Yun Jin would have time to come today.

The thought of having to entertain all these guests with Baizhu still waiting on the explanation of your Oracle status was not improving your desire to just vanish from Liyue. You forgot how tiring it was to constantly string up webs of lies that make up a cohesive story. It was like being constantly at work with the threat of danger on a brand-new level.

That letter is quickly dismissed and you grab the final letter. The paper is stained, and the edges are worn, opening it a strange set of words are found inside it.

“Hello, do you remember me?”

Frowning, you continue to read it as you search through your memories. The words make little sense until you come across a line that summons a wave of needless guilt.

“Those children enjoyed choosing those gifts for you. They remind me of my son.”

You don’t really want to finish this letter anymore.

Despite your internal feelings, you continue to skim through the letter. It touches on how they’re all adjusting to life back on the streets. 

How the kids work together more but wail even louder in the night. The people that curse them out for coming back, the few items they had left swept away by the government as ‘trash’. The empty and hollow feeling she carries now that her son is gone.

She wished that she had given him up at birth like she was advised. That maybe at least then he would still be alive.  

She mentions her son at least once every line into the letter. 

It’s only when you see the curves of the ink spelling out his name that you scrunch up the paper. The paper crinkles as your teeth grit together, the sounds perfectly in tune with each other. 

The anger is confusing. You don’t know the kid, so why should you feel guilty? Why should you feel guilty that she chose to share her anguish with you? Why does the thought of being even more aware of that boy make your heart race?

Slowly, you open the now wrinkled and slightly torn paper and skip straight to the bottom.

“I know you probably don’t care. You never promised me that you could save him or deliver him alive to me. But it’s easier to share these feelings with someone separated from this situation than the people who are already suffering with me.”

“I should take these feelings to the Creator and beg for some relief from my pain, yet I can’t even muster the strength to care for the tongue I ripped out in my mourning. How could I possibly keep this pain to me and the Creator alone? Don’t fret about helping me. I leave that all up to our God.”

That end soothes your racing heart and warped feelings, it’s clear to you now.

You’re beginning to feel the guilt from being their God but unable to actually help with anything. Celestia somehow limited you, none of your acolytes would ever believe you to be the Creator, and the powers you do have access to now are useless.

Was it your fault? Could you have been faster and given that boy some food to have saved him? Can you speak to some form of authority and have them help those victims?

Mindlessly, you begin to tear up the letter. It’s therapeutic to watch the scraps fall onto the tray. Each ink stained paper is ripped with shaking fingers, almost like you’re ripping apart the physical manifestation of your guilt.

It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.

You’re not their God, you’re just the Oracle. 

The truth doesn’t matter now. If this world can’t accept you wholeheartedly as the human you are, then why should you work to be seen as the God they cherish so much?

As if on cue, ruby droplets fall onto the worn shredded paper on the tray from the paper cuts you gained from your actions. The new gloves you got from Beidou are threatened to be stained as the red begins to trail down, but you quickly swipe it away.

Cursing yourself internally over the mess you made, you fumble with the drawer next to you for some bandages, not even hearing the repeated knocking on the door. It’s only when it’s opened and the pitter-patter of steps nearing you make you look toward it.

Cold, small fingers wrap around your own as magenta eyes stare up at you past the talisman hanging down from her hat.

“What happened?” Qiqi drawls, her signature zombie-like tone makes shame bubble up within you. Hanging your head, you don’t respond as you avoid her eyes. 

You don’t feel normal.

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

The pharmacy is noisy as people frequently pass by the door to your room. Humming a catchy tune, you drum your fingers on the window sill as you watch outside the window. You imagine the wood of the sill must be cool, but you can’t tell under the bandages wrapped around your fingers. 

Baizhu had visited you not too long ago to check on your leftover wounds and apply the topical medication. The cool moisture of the herbal medicine cooled down your body and prevented your apparent fever from worsening. 

The room is clean aside from the bag you have left sitting on the bed with your belongings safely tucked away. 

A small bag lies inside with the bloodied paper remains sitting inside it. You still aren’t sure if you were better off keeping it or throwing away. The series of knocks on your door bring your attention away from the scenery outside the window.

Staring for a second to be sure if you heard correctly, softer rapping follows up.

“Come in.” You call out before moving closer to the middle of the room. It swings open to show a girl with a shiny pink flower hairpin and a tall man wearing glasses. The smile on Kuan’s face is such a stark difference to the dark circles and sullen expression he wore when you first met him.

Yiran has bright eyes and a smile that could rival match the sun. Propufse thanks leave them both as Yiran keeps her fingers wrapped tight around her father’s. She’s still pale and clings to her father's hand when he moves to give you a handshake, but you gracefully ignore it.

“-Oh, and I’m so sorry that you’re being talked about by so many people. I really didn’t expect it to spread so far when I let her tell those other children that you saved that you were alive and recovering.” He looks kindly down at Yiran before gently urging her. “You too, Yiran, you have to apologize.”

Her eyes droop a little, but she still bows her head slightly as she apologizes. “I’m sorry, I just wanted my friends to know you were okay.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Thank you for the drawing.” You smile at them with ease and maintain small talk with them both a while longer before they leave. The door swings close, and your expression flattens at the same time.

Turning back to the window, you sit again and stare outside. The fluffy white clouds roll past in the blue sky as you allow your mind to go quiet. You just want a brief reprise from the stress you’ve been under all this time.

Time to just exist without having to worry about proving why you deserve to live in this world or your old one. Especially with Ningguang and your travel to the next region so close.

Maybe you took a nap or just dozed off, but the strum of a guitar brought your hazy mind back to awareness. Lifting your head from your arms crossed on the windowsill you see Xinyan taking steps two at a time as she runs from Millelith soldiers. 

She quickly jumps off the top step onto the concrete so far below as she continues to play her guitar. It’s impressive, but you can’t help but be irked that soldiers had enough time to chase Xinyan but not help find kidnapped children.

That spiral of thoughts is interrupted as Yun Jin walks up the same set of stairs to Bubu Pharmacy as the soldiers disappear deeper into the city. Outwardly, she’s perfectly maintained, but the slight fidget of her fingers are like a warning sign.

The first and last time you spoke to her was the day of her ‘Lonely Chameleon’ performance that you vaguely recall had her promising to clear up the misunderstanding with Keqing. 

What a bunch of good that did.

Yun Jin leaves your sight as she enters the building, and you move away from the window to crack the door open. Sitting on the foot of the bed, you patiently wait for Yun Jin to arrive. The biggest thing you relied on her about was her conversation with Keqing. So at least the situation with the Liyue Qixing can’t get any worse.

A polite knock sounds on the door before you call her in. Yun Jin steps in and closes the door behind her with a graceful smile that you return pleasantly.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you Y/N. I’m unsure if you read the letter but Xinyan and I were incredibly worried. Are you feeling any better?”

It’s not small talk, she’s genuinely concerned, but you have to force the undeserved annoyance down. “I’m feeling way better, and I’m basically almost back to normal. I’ll be discharged today, so don’t worry. Thank you for your concern.” God, you haven’t felt this fake in a while.

Yun Jin walks closer before stopping in front of you, polite as she is, she's not going to ask for a seat so you pat the spot on the bed next to you. Small talk is needlessly exchanged for a few more minutes, but you’re beginning to feel antsy from being stuck in your worry over how Keqing reacted.

“What performance did you do the day after we met? I remember you mentioning how you would speak to Keqing on my behalf after that play.” There it goes again, her fingers twitch before she tightly clasp them together on her lap.

“The performance went well. Thankfully nothing like the Geovishap hatchling accident happened so it wasn’t as stressful. I-I did get to talk to the Yuheng, but I’m afraid she didn’t put much trust into my words.” Just as you thought.

Her eyes squint slightly as she stares down at her lap, the little tremble of her lips and crack in her manners surprises you. You didn’t think she would feel this guilty over it.

“The questions she asked me about how or even just proof of your oracle status were troublesome to say the least. I genuinely didn’t have an answer for most of them and the ones I did weren’t very in-depth. I apologize Y/N.”

Placing your hand on her shoulder, your head shakes softly to deny her words. “Don’t worry about it, Yun Jin. I have a chance to personally refute some of the suspicions on me today. Thank you for at least trying, I just have one question.”

A part of you feels bad that you’re unintentionally displaying your frustrations on Yun Jin but not enough to stop you from asking your question. Her shoulders tense under your hand, and her face freezes when she hears your question.

“Did all those questions make you question whether I’m actually the Creator’s oracle?”

You can only force your lips into a smile that threatens to dissolve into a scowl with every fiber of your self-control at her body's reaction.

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

It’s disappointing, you think to yourself, as Yun Jin basically flees the room. The excuses she gave you and topic changes she tried to pull were pathetic, but you weren’t surprised considering how you went straight for the throat. 

Yun Jin was a beast when it came to stage affairs and directing in arts, but there’s little to nothing she has to counter your precise attack. In a way, it’s smart for her to run rather then stand her ground and try to answer. 

Standing up, you stretch your body, enjoying the absence of pain. The sly grin you wear is so much more comfortable than the bitter frown you’ve worn these past few days. Yun Jin was simply a good warm up, a nice way to get back into the ‘Oracle’ headspace you’ve developed.

It didn’t matter if you were their God or the Oracle.

Money, shelter, food, and a sense of security were all you needed in life. That is what you’ve focused on to survive all these years, and Teyvat will be no different. If playing along to the cult’s belief of the Creator being the Almighty guarantees your survival, then you’ll happily do so and benefit from their obsession.

Smiling with renewed vigor, you relax on the bed as the sound of footsteps came closer. The hissing of a snake and the muffled words of a man could be heard steadily arriving. 

If Yun Jin was a warm-up then Baizhu was your practice. Tonight you had to face Ningguang and that required all your skills to be in top shape lest you end up being killed by her hands.

The door swings open without warning as yellow snake eyes and fushia eyes meet your own eyes hidden beneath your mask. Smiling without a care, you call out to the contracted partners.

“Nice to see you again so soon Dr. Baizhu and it’s nice to meet you Changsheng. You’re here for the scar tissue sample and to ask some questions about my background, right? Come in! Just be sure to close the door behind you…”

Still alive, surprisingly… It's hard to believe that my last update on this story was Nov 14. If you want to hear my excuses as to why it takes long, it basically boils down to school, sick, holiday, and family lol. Plus money but when is it done a problem? But I came back and was working on it very slowly throughout all this time! The next update will take long too as finals are till the 22nd. And then the next semester on the 17(?) of Jan so yeah, little to no break. Thanks to my editor who got it done quite fast which is why the chapter is up now, Sunday night or rather early Monday. I hope it gives you all a good start to the week. To actually talk about about the story, I gotta say that it's longer then I thought. There's still a few leftover tasks to complete before Y/N can truly leave. As well as a hint to the overarching threat now that we got this Celestia hint. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and the series! If your name is in italics that means I couldn't tag you for whatever reason. If you are missing from the taglist and I didn't respond to your comment or ask to be added to the taglist, leave a comment here so I can check it. Taglist: Open as always!

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[cyb3rtarot]

What Messages are Coming Through in Your Dreams?

Disclaimer: tarot readings are not replacements for professional advice. Take what resonates; don’t force a reading to fit. This is just a look into some of the energies in your dreams, not a comprehensive reading of what all your dreams mean. I used a recolored Smith-Waite, Tarot of Mystical Moments, Zerner-Farber Tarot, Oracle of the Radiant Sun, the Chakra Oracle, and runes.

pile 1↝pile 2 pile 3↝pile 4

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Pile 1:

Cards: four of wands, the hermit, empress rx, flattery (Venus in Gemini, 3rd house)|| exaltation (Moon in Taurus, 2nd house), queen of swords sideways, sharing (queen of action), completion, page of pentacles rx, page of swords, Ehwaz rune

The Dreams: hi pile one! Your energy came through strongly so your dreams could be more intense and vivid right now. You could also be having more bad dreams. You may feel like you’re in another realm or some kind of fantasy world while sleeping. In these dreams you could feel little control over anything or like you’re a different person. Like you’re “you” but feeling the experience of someone else. This could include very strong emotions. For example, melancholy you don’t feel while awake. Your dreams could be lonely during this time; you may frequently end up by yourself, others are far away, or they turn on you (one scenario I’m seeing is getting ostracized at a party). You might also feel like you’re having similar dreams repeatedly. Some of you are flip-flopping between these deeper dreams and lighthearted ones. Despite the contents, some of you are using dreams and sleep as an escape or coping mechanism.

Themes that could be common in your dreams right now: the moon (especially full), night time, the beach/ocean, planets in the sky. Palm trees, masculine side characters (one recurring in particular), sports jerseys, crying, flowing robes, pregnancy (especially a sudden one), gas stations, corner/convenience stores, brown or brick buildings, a different country, gray clouds or white skies, eating snacks, being a side piece or cheated on, feeling unappreciated, being ostracized or abandoned, a new family, being lied to, real life conflicts or enemies, the dream starting good and turning bad

The Messages: your subconscious is processing a lot right now which is partly why your dreams seem fantastical and out of control. But your dreams are also reflecting conscious fear. There’s a sense of imprisonment in your own mind while awake and it continues in your dreams. Huge themes in your cards are fertility, birth, and abundance. For a chunk of you, this is literal as I was picking up on a pregnancy around 5-9 months. But in general, your dreams are portraying something coming into fruition or being birthed, like something you’ve wanted or worked really hard on for a long time. The cycle is almost complete, but at this last step there’s hesitancy on your end. There’s a split between people in this pile who are making big physical changes like moving, starting a family etc, versus people who have gone through a big internal transformation and are holding onto limiting beliefs (overlapping for many). Whatever developments are coming feel inevitable and time-based; I don’t think you’re “blocking” it. But I do feel like there's a lot of present joy you can partake in if only you will accept it. I am never encouraging you to not think or to do something that’s toxic for you, I am only encouraging you to find a healthy balance between your rational and emotional sides :] When you deny yourself comfort or joy hopefully it’s for a strong reason, not because you’re afraid to be happy. I do see a lot of you have done significant shadow and healing work already, and now you’re in a transitory period. There’s also highly personal signs in your dreams, some from your guides. Your dreams are showing you one half of a story or sentence. You’re being encouraged to fill the other half through your own analysis instead of accepting your dreams as the full picture. It’s important to be realistic with this; don’t immediately take the worst case scenario of your nightmares and say it must be real life lol

Extra Details: just went through an upsetting time, Brazil, dark hair, love interest from another culture, very bright blue eyes, disappointment in love, a brother energy or friend who’s like a brother, Japan, Portugal, conflict with friends/family/neighbors (all 3 at once for some), mermaids, weddings, photoshoots, 4444, fear of abandonment due to trauma. One or some of you experienced a miscarriage in the past and you may be projecting that trauma onto future hopes for a family. For others this is fear caused by something you really wanted falling through and an opportunity to try again. Experiencing healthy, loyal love after toxic past love. Creative projects. Travel delays. Visas. 90 day fiancé?

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Pile 2:

Cards: two of wands, king of pentacles, seven of pentacles, birth (Venus in Cancer, 4th house)|| five of cups rx, ten of pentacles rx, ace of cups rx, friendship (Moon in Cancer, 4th house), the world, Jera rune

The Dreams: hello pile two! Like pile one I see your dreams feeling lonely, though for you it does seem like there are people talking to you in them. These dreams could feel very nostalgic, melancholic, or empty, as if you’re in your own world. I’m also seeing disappointment—dreams where you are longing for something deeply. Dreams where you experience a taste of what you want in real life, and they make you feel worse when you wake up. You might not even get to enjoy those moments. They could feel aimless, like there’s no plot or point to them. I see scenes where people are talking to you, but it seems like both of you don’t really want to be there. Like everyone’s nihilistic or apathetic. The dreams could also be extremely beautiful but you don’t notice it at the time. You could dream about people and places you loved in your youth, even fictional ones. Some of you might feel like you’re playing a game or in a game in your dreams? If you felt drawn to pile one I encourage you to take a look!

Themes that could be common in your dreams right now: childhood home or town, driving down long roads, bright/pretty sunsets, the ocean/coast, small towns or villages, dreams centered on conversations, friends and love interests you don’t know in real life or from childhood, video games, something out of grasp, pregnancy, travel, expensive cars, walking down the street, everyone being unhappy, the countryside, feeling used, being rich, being in a relationship, the Sun as an odd color (like purple), young children

The Messages: you guys have an energy of mourning in two different ways. One, mourning for a part of yourself that was lost from your earlier youth, or something left behind. There might be a loss of innocence, wonder, or happiness; a natural self acceptance that no longer comes easy to you. On the other side of this, I see some of you have lost people who were important when you were younger. For some this is due to a passing, but for others the relationship came to a close. Whatever this perceived lack is, it weighs heavily and comes through your dreams in the form of beautiful but melancholic nostalgia. The good times are right there, but you can’t fully enjoy them. Dreams where people are unhappy, apathetic, or ticked off could reflect a falling out, feeling like you let someone down (including yourself), or that you can’t make amends. Your dreams are a reminder that it’s the natural progression of life for things to end and begin anew. This doesn’t lessen the burden, but as time keeps moving so do you. Grieve and feel your feelings, learn lessons, but remember there’s still life for you to enjoy. There are new things to be found. Try heavy-handed self-compassion and forgiveness. Though there’s a focus on what’s no longer there, there’s a sense of acceptance. A few of you have just come out of a heavy healing period and might be feeling things you haven't felt since childhood. Or, you may suddenly remember things from childhood.

Extra Details: 555, longing for a better life, RPG games (particularly JRPGs), racing or racing games, vintage, having lived with a friend or relative of similar age to you, having lived near water, feeling like the world is changing too much, periwinkle, a child passing (already happened. A cousin or sibling?), going to therapy or being a therapist, a falling out with multiple friends (I’m mostly getting two friends), feeling numb, lonely, a friend who always wears their hair in a ponytail, a masculine friend with dark, big hair and glasses, empty villages, Japan, regressing. I see a lack of adult presence in childhood. Growing up, you might’ve felt like you only had those few friends or cousins to depend on, even though you were too young to take care of each other.

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Pile 3:

Cards: Temperance, four of wands, the Empress rx, devotion (Saturn in libra, 7th house), consciousness rx, devotion, traveling, the outsider rx, new vision rx|| king of wands sideways, king of pentacles sideway, the emperor, the high priestess, the emperor rx, defense (Mars in Taurus, 2nd house), seven of wands rx, Tiwaz rune

The Dreams: hi pile three! I feel like you guys are not remembering dreams as much right now, or only remembering fragments. There are more nights where you feel like you didn’t dream. This is my pile that’s astral projecting at bed time, and this is part of why I picked up on less dreams (both purposeful and not. Some of you just started doing this). Whether through the astral or your dreams, you’re having adventures that are opposite your real life experience. I see you guys having dreams others may think scary—like being chased, but you’re just vibing. There’s a sense of being stuck, trapped, or stagnant in real life; there’s also a lack of understanding and denial about your desires. Your dreams are fulfilling repressed wants by sending you to any and everything you don’t do in real life. The subconscious aspect of your desires is partly why so many fantastical elements make their way into this other life. Many of you also like watching and reading speculative genres (particularly horror, sci-fi, and fantasy), and this is also why those elements are in your dreams. Your dreams seem like a means of escape and fun to balance your day and night. To combat feeling trapped, you could have dreams of running far away from a creature, or exploring somewhere beautiful. A specific part of this pile has dreams of being in romantic relationships, and while you may genuinely not want one right now, it could represent another desire such as socialization. Your day and night are actual opposites haha. This was strange but there was a strong pull between this pile and pile 4, I felt like some of you have friends that would be in pile 4 (or you may resonate with some details yourself if you feel drawn to it).

Themes that could be common in your dreams right now: night time/full moons, fantasy creatures and companions (I saw green goblins? And vampires), historical settings, castles, feeling creepy, eerie emptiness, bats, forests, villages or towns (especially empty ones), pine trees, green meadows and hills, bright flowers, butterflies, cabins, scary situations but not feeling scared, theaters or plays (red curtains?), places that look like fairytales, being attracted to a character in the dream (even the bad guys lol), people you know as background characters, real life events replaying with different outcomes

Messages: your dreams or astral travels are a reminder of your real life potential! You guys don’t always have to hold the fort down. I feel like you portray an easygoing attitude and convince yourself you’re just okay with whatever. There are many highly spiritual people in this group, and you may feel like physical life doesn’t matter as much because your spiritual life has the real depth. But the astral and dream world are not meant to replace the 3D world. Your capacity to have these experiences is proof that you have amazing things in you, and if you wish, you can seek amazement in the waking world too. It’s very much within your capacity! I also feel like some of you guys have a “duty,” like there’s a constant responsibility you shoulder (or that you’re assigned), and you feel like you should just accept it peacefully. Your sense of duty is wonderful, but please also have one towards yourself! A lot of you guys want to travel internationally and the main blockage is your own self limits.

Extra Details: Latino (specifically Mexican for a chunk of you), Eastern Europe, Germany, 414, Titanic (the movie? You might find it romantic), “hit the road,” Indigenous American, travel list, familial responsibility, dissatisfied with a job, straight brown or black hair (reaches top of back), big eyes, stressed but can’t tell under the numbness, going through the motions, feeling on the defense or like a side character in your own life, having a job to pay bills but not a career, wanting to run away, feeling like your spiritual skills are developing too fast, rubbing hands on face when stressed (I see someone standing in a hallway outside their boss’ office, rubbing their face and then carrying on), literally taking the trash out (during the night, or to a dumpster in an alley?), over-sacrificing oneself, court or legal matters (including working in law), believing in fairies, or astral travels involving fairies, fairy rings near ponds?

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Pile 4:

Cards: egotism (mars in leo, 5th house), eight of swords rx, ten of pentacles rx, the lovers rx,|| truthfulness (throat chakra), imagination (brow chakra), riches (saturn in capricorn, 10th house), fulfillment (saturn in sagittarius, 9th house), the fool, eight of wands, eight of pentacles, nine of pentacles, king of swords, the magician, Fehu rune

The Dreams [CW for creepiness]: hi pile four! First I’ll say there was a strong link between this pile and pile 3, so if you feel drawn to it maybe check it out! There are similarities with you two having dreams with fantastical creatures popping up, and having dreams that others would deem as nightmares. You might also only remember little fragments right now. However, I feel you guys out of all the piles are having the most actual nightmares. I saw dreams that started out nice and calm then suddenly flip. There could be random characters popping up out of nowhere that don’t match the dream at all, like clowns or mascots. You might also have a lot of dreams where you feel watched, or are being watched by something in the background. Dreams where you feel a strong need to escape; you might feel preyed upon, followed, or anxious. It mostly seems like any weird things in your dream just “linger” instead of actually harming you, though there might be the occasional attempt. There’s also a strong sense of nostalgia, but tainted? Like you can’t enjoy it because of whatever else is going on, or it’s a reminder of what’s been lost as you’ve grown up. These dreams feel like you’re often alone except for whatever is loitering around you. Or when there’s someone else there, it’s like they’re kind of flat? Like a memory being replayed. A lot of you guys could dream of your grandmother. You might have dreams that actually look like “dreamcore.”

Themes that could be common in your dreams right now: beautiful places (I’m seeing a village by a gigantic mountainside, very bright blue skies, fluffy white clouds), cozy homes/cabins, grandmacore, cooking or eating, bananas?, PB&J?, having extremely different dreams everyday or in one night, scary creatures just standing there, feeling like you have to fight or survive, friends or partners from years before, caves, grimace??, eyes (floating eyes?), shadows, jumpscares

The Messages: Your cards got me riled up! I feel like a good chunk of your life, maybe up until right now, has been very tumultuous. You had to hold on and just find strength to survive, and this caused you to repress a lot. Your dreams are calling you to face what you’ve repressed—your shadow—because you are quickly entering a completely different era. It feels like all the ways you’ve had to struggle and fight are going to start giving way to a new life filled with things that bring fulfillment or contentment. I’m not sure exactly what these blessings are but they spoke of freedom, abundance, and new opportunities. It did seem like these are blessings you’ll bring about by your own hand instead of completely unexpected ones. Despite how off-putting or strange your dreams may be, they are prompting you to resolve things from the past that would make the future difficult to appreciate. We all carry scars, but doing our best to heal them will allow us to create a more joyful existence. What are the things you’ve pushed deep down that have been begging to come out? I do feel like some of you have been manipulated into staying silent, maybe about the way you were treated and harmed, and this has created a stifled feeling. I don’t know your individual situation, but I greatly wish for you to find a space where you can safely and truthfully exist. If you feel you need the help of a professional to do healing work or to escape any dangerous situations please research what’s accessible to you!!

Extra Details [TW abuse mention]: swears a lot, childhood trauma or abuse (some of you are still in contact with harmful people from your childhood and this is influencing you), Central Europe or Belgium, very close to a grandmother (especially one who’s passed), blockages in throat energy (could have trouble speaking up for yourself, saying what you mean, stumbling on words, or you REALLY want to talk about something), toxic or abusive friends, having no one to support you, you might just want to scream, seeing sequential numbers (like 234) or 8 a lot, feeling pulled towards a career where you use your voice or express yourself (writer, singer, motivational speaker, artist, communications), absent parents, a great new job or financial opportunity, lots of astral projection and lucid dreaming in this pile but also physically moving and traveling (some of you could go look at places you want to travel to in the astral or dream realm lol, or some of you AP into space? Cool. I also see someone AP-ing or lucid dreaming somewhere with a lot of vegetation), environmental activism, your childhood home or town being renovated/changed, rectangular glasses (thin frame), major Capricorn or Saturn in chart. If you already felt drawn to pile 2, you may resonate with it also.

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[eveningcherryblossoms]

Okay so theres going to be gaps in logic since its from a dream, but it went something like ->

Duke (Omega): is the only one who can see through your disguises and sees you about but thinks you're just really into cosplay or don't want to get recognized, so he doesn't say anything before and after he joins the pack. He thinks reader is an Omega like him because of the way you move and control (avoid) social interactions. Believes pack should move together when you're out in public. At first you think you just need to up your disguises but after the 5th "Hi, yn!" In your disguises you know he's more dangerous than he let's on. Inadvertently makes you better at hiding/blending in inside thick crowds.

Barbara (Alpha): Hasn't seen you in YEARS because of her work as Oracle. When you meet completely by accident (you go into library for some reason, don't remember why) is the only one who has a sneaking suspicion that reader is a beta. But, because of experience with her father being a beta himself, is the only one who acts normal as to try to coax you to her side. On the inside though she's already planning on putting 5 different trackers on you if she's right. Dangerous because unlike Tim she doesn't harbor guilt to cloud her mind, knows how betas act, and has eyes all over the city. But her time as Oracle holds her back from really investigated you.

Cassandra (Alpha): When she gets adopted into the family she at first follows Batman's lead and pretends you don't exist. But become drawn to you more and more over time, finding comfort in your presence. She doesn't know why she becomes slowly obsessed with being near you. Her lack of pack experience leads her to believe you're an Alpha ('why else would she be drawn?'). She's like a shadow, you often feel you're almost never alone in the manor. Scarce until she isn't, and wants you to see her or when she's stressed. First to notice you're planning to leave because of your body language.

Stephanie (Omega): Dismisses you until Tim and Cass start getting more obsessed. Which lead her to wonder what's so great about this OBVIOUS Omega. Thinks you're just avoiding her (you are) because of how she first treated you. (Dream me didnt specify how she treated you just that you were ignored). Kicked herself over this but believes she can make it up to you by showing you the ropes of being an Omega. Gets jealous because everyone else gets to spend their time with you (they don't but dream made her the delusional kind). Starts off cold but becomes worse than Dick with giving you scented clothes. In her mind you just need to forgive her and then you'll be pack besties.

Omg how did you manage to dream my hc for the girls and Duke's secondary genders?? 😱 That was perfectly accurate to what I imagine!!

As to their behavior... I'm kinda sad Duke poses such a danger to reader, I've been liking their bond in my story 🥲 I can imagine reader being super anxious around Duke until they become too drained lol

Barbara is too dangerous 😭 Can reader bomb the clock tower or at least barricade it, prevent her from doing anything?? Oh wait not in the clock tower unless reader gets all the electronics out first... Also, Commissioner Gordon is a beta in your dream? Is he still the commissioner there 😮 Man I'm more curious about him than Barbara (sorry, women 🙏) and his dynamics with the Batfam especially Bruce 👀

Cass is the sort of danger that's more risky than anything else huh 🫠 Like if not for her inexperience she could've known everything already and it's game over for reader... Btw I once read a DCxDP prompt with Cass having her scent gland removed by David Cain to make her more ~efficient~ so tbh before I decided against adding her to the story I contemplated making her another beta.

And whoa, Steph, I never thought she would act delusional but somehow it fits?? I think she'll try to forcibly insert her way into reader's comfort zone and wave it off as just two omegas being omegas 🫠 (no hate for the canon Steph ofc 🙏)

Anyway these are so interesting!! I'll be happy to read a fully written story of them. May I use your ideas here for my side stories in the future? 🙏 Thank you so much for sharing this dream with me, I love it 💕

[shadyfestivalperfection]

Avengers Group Chat: “This Chat Has PTSD”

(Participants: Tony, Steve, Natasha, Clint, Bruce, Thor, Y/N, and Emojibucky.)

Tony (aka Iron Sass):

Someone left a single slice of pizza in the fridge with one bite taken out of it.

Congratulations, you’re officially the worst type of villain. Worse than Thanos. I said what I said.

Y/N (aka Your Favorite Chaos Gremlin):

Bold of you to assume Thanos would waste food.

Unlike whoever thinks half-eaten pineapple pizza is an acceptable offering.

Clint (aka Hawkward):

Wait, who told you it was pineapple? I thought I hid that.

Bruce (aka Chill Hulk):

Clint. You labeled it “Hawkeye’s Secret Snack Stash.”

In Sharpie.

On the front.

Natasha (aka Professional Disappointment Detector):

You spelled “secret” wrong. You wrote “secrit.”

Steve (aka America’s Most Confused Grandpa):

Guys, please don’t fight. We’re a team.

Y/N:

Steve, sweetie, your bedtime was an hour ago. Let the children scream.

Tony:

Let’s focus on the real issue: Thor is still using Mjölnir to press the TV remote buttons.

He shattered volume control and now the Weather Channel is stuck screaming at 400 decibels.

Thor (aka God of Caps Lock):

I HAVE MASTERED THE SMALL RECTANGLE OF VISION

THE SCREAMING MAN SPEAKS OF CLOUDS AND DOOM

A WORTHY ORACLE

Y/N:

You’re watching the weatherman, Thor. He’s not an oracle. He’s Carl. From New Jersey.

Thor:

CARL OF STORMS IS MIGHTY

I WOULD FOLLOW HIM INTO BATTLE

Bruce:

He cries when the green screen glitches.

Tony:

Honestly, same.

Y/N:

Wait. Has anyone seen Bucky today?

Bucky (aka The Emoji Menace):

👀🧍‍♂️🕶️🔪

Tony:

Oh cool. He’s sending threats again. In Wingdings.

Clint:

Is that “watching silently with knives”?

Or “just vibing”?

Steve:

Buck, are you okay?

Bucky:

🤷‍♂️🧠❄️🔫💅

Y/N:

Okay so that translates to “brainwashed but fabulous.”

Iconic, honestly.

Thor:

TINY IMAGES OF EMOTION

I TOO SHALL PARTAKE

⚡🍗🛡️👑🔥👁️

Tony:

Thor, what does that even mean?

Thor:

“I CLAIM THIS FRIED CHICKEN IN THE NAME OF ASGARD AND I SHALL DEFEND IT WITH HONOR AND FLAMES”

Y/N:

I want that carved into my tombstone.

Bucky:

🍕👊💀💤🚪

Clint:

“Punching pizza to death and leaving dramatically.”

Wow. Art.

Natasha:

This is why I don’t check this chat before coffee. Or after. Or ever.

Tony:

He’s literally emoji-shitposting his way through this chat like a deranged hieroglyphic caveman.

Thor:

I CHALLENGE THE METAL ARM MAN

TO A BATTLE OF SYMBOLS

LET OUR FINGERS SPEAK WITH IMAGES

Bucky:

💪🧊🧼🖕🤡☠️

Y/N:

Oh. Oh he came to play.

Tony:

Translation: “Strong, cold, clean, flipping you off, you clown, die.”

This is poetry. This is what Shakespeare feared.

Thor:

🔥🌩️🐍🐔⚔️🍑🚽

Bruce:

…Did Thor just say “burn, thunder, snake, chicken, fight, butt, toilet”?

Clint:

Yes.

And I think it was a threat and a proposal.

Bucky:

🤨🧻💣🎯🦴🐺💋

Y/N:

Okay I think that one was “try me, toilet paper bomb target bone wolf kiss.”

We’re entering cryptid mode.

Tony:

We’re beyond that. We’re in cryptid FLUENT territory.

Steve:

Guys… what happened to simple team bonding?

Natasha:

This is bonding.

Thor and Bucky are flirting in violence emojis. It’s beautiful.

Y/N:

Some people send flowers.

Others send 🗡️🪦👁️🚬 and call it romance.

Thor:

MY LOVE LANGUAGE IS 🔨💥🧃🕺🕊️

Tony:

Translation: “Hit stuff, explode, juice, dance, peace.”

Sounds like a Friday night with Thor.

Bucky:

💅🚬😎🧼🍷⚰️

Y/N:

Yup. That’s his way of saying “murder is self-care.”

Bruce:

We need supervision. Or an exorcist.

Clint:

I say we let it happen.

Let them emoji battle until only one survives.

Steve:

Guys, focus. Mission briefing in 10.

Y/N:

Steve, read the room.

The mission now is figuring out if 🍑🚽🔥🐔 is a coded insult or an ancient Asgardian blessing.

Tony:

I’m gonna go drink and scream into a pillow now.

Group chat: muted for eternity.

Thor:

I HAVE WON THE EMOJI WAR

ALL SHALL KNEEL BEFORE MY 🔥🍗🌩️💪

Bucky:

🖕😴🏆

Y/N:

And that’s how Bucky just dropped the mic using a middle finger, nap, and a trophy emoji.

Ladies and gentlemen, he is risen.

Natasha:

Burn this chat. Salt the earth.

[Chat name changed to “🔥💀 Noodle Beasts Reloaded 💀🔥” by Thor]

Steve:

…Why is this my life?

Y/N:

Because you love us.

Now shut up and send a gif, coward.

[ghostf1ux]

5 Times Jason Saved his the Flock and 1 Time they Saved Him: Your Mom (And Dad (Are Dead))

Day 6: Greatest Fear

Words: 1.8k

TW/CWs: Fear Toxin, Jumping off a building

Part 1 | Part 2 (here) | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

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

“Has anyone seen Nightwing?”

Tim's question sends a jolt of… something through Jason's chest. He fires off another shot at an approaching hireling of Scarecrow's, then takes a moment to actually look around.

From his place on a rooftop higher than most the others around, Jason can make out a few vague blurs of color on other buildings through the smog of fear gas practically dripping off them all. Robin and Batman fight side by side, or rather, back to back, against a horde of henchmen and Scarecrow himself. Spoiler is a spot of purple in the mix of heavy green fog and debris on the streets, helping evacuate the civilians still in the area and fighting what guns-for-hire may threaten them. Red Robin is barely a dot on a rooftop a sizable ways away, standing still while he's presumably checking the computer on his wrist. Black Bat is… well, she's somewhere. Jason can't actually see her, but based on the way some goons are kinda just falling over in some places, he guesses she's fine. Even Signal is out tonight, closer to Jason as far as rooftops go, and easy to spot even with it being nighttime. A mostly yellow suit did that for you.

But no Nightwing. No signature splash of blue flipping his way through fights and comforting those who needed it. No constant stream of chirped puns or quips.

“His tracker is pinging two blocks south of your position, Hood,” Oracle mentions. Jason sighs.

“I'll go check on Goldie, I'm finished with these guys anyways.” He kicks the foot of one of the goons he had knocked out for emphasis, despite the fact that he's the only one who can see it. Whatever, that's what's important anyways.

Within moments he's leaping off the building and soaring through the air, using his grapple to facilitate the airborne movement. He finds a smile pulling at his lips despite the potential situation, and the actual one. He would never get over the freedom of feeling like he's flying when he's traversing the city like this.

That smile falls when he hears a choked sound and sees a cloud of that thick, green gas gathered around a hunched black and blue form on the next building. Jason eases to a stop near the ledge in front of him, making sure his landing is able to be heard.

He falters when he registers the choked sound as Dick sobbing, practically tearing out his own hair with how hard he's pulling it. He doesn't have his rebreather on.

“Did you find him?” Tim asks impatiently.

“Yeah, I found him alright,” Jason responds quietly as not to startle the clearly high-on-fear-toxin Dick. 

“Do you need help?” Yes, he most certainly did because what the fuck is he supposed to do in this situation?

“I've got it, baby bird,” Jason replies tersely instead. Why? Who fucking knows. His inability to let people think he can't handle whatever is thrown his way despite the fact that he definitely doesn't know how to handle this? His internalized self-loathing that didn't allow him to just accept even an ounce of familial affection and love on a bad day? His ego?

Probably that last one. He doesn't see what the other two might have to do with it.

Jason switches off his comm so he can focus, setting his helmet off to the side before raising his hands placatingly as he approaches Dick much like he would a traumatized child tucked into a dank alleyway in Crime Alley.

“Hey, dickiebird,” Jason starts softly, tapping into his Robin days. Dick's tear-streaked face snaps up at the words, entire body tensing and shaking as he recoils back. He's ready to bolt.

“Easy, I'm just trying to help you out, yeah?” He telegraphs his careful movements as he steps closer. “I need you to try to breathe, Goldie. In four, hold four, out four. You know the drill.”

Dick shakes his head, fingers twitching with the need to– what, reach out? Whatever Dick was seeing, it had nearly made him frozen.

“No, no no no no please not again– leave- leave him alone–” Dick's words come out as a hushed plea, his hands clenching. “J- Jay please- please I- I can't lose you- not again, please not again–”

Again, Jason falters, because what the fuck is he supposed to say to that? His brother is hallucinating his death, and he's just standing there. 

Fuck Jason is bad at this. He should've taken Tim's offer. He should've done a lot of things.

Focus, fuck, okay. What would Dick do in this situation?

Does that question even apply since the situation is about Dick?

“I'm right here, Goldie. Not dead, pinkie promise.” Jason tried for a soft smile, but it probably came out more strained and uncomfortable than he was intending. What can he say, he's not used to doing this without his helmet on.

“No, no, you died and I wasn't there, I wasn't here, I wasn't- I couldn't- I–”

Dick breaks off into hysterical sobbing, curling up impossibly tighter into the little ball he seemed to be so comfortable in. Jason hovers just a few feet away– too close for him to be at all comfortable with this situation (let's be real, within city limits was far too close) and too far to do anything about it.

The fear toxin antidotes he keeps on hand sit heavy in his utility belt. He withdraws one and carefully starts approaching Dick again.

“Listen, you just got tagged with some fear gas, yeah? Nothing you're seeing is real. I'm right here, the family's all here, alive and well–” Well that's an overstatement but besides the point– “–I just need to give you the antidote.”

Dick looks up at that, seeming to finally register Jason's very alive presence before him. He's still hyperventilating, and tears are streaming down his face, but he's somewhat more present.

He thinks.

“But- I- No, you–”

“I'm right here,” Jason assures him. He's only a foot out of reach now.

Unfortunately, it seems Jason was a little optimistic about the whole ‘being present’ thing. 

This is shown when Dick flinches and his attention snaps to something behind him, like he hears something. Or sees it. Most likely watching the beginning of one of the many scenes that plague his nightmares. Jason opens his mouth to speak before Dick beats him to it.

“I can't- I can't watch it again, Jay- not again, please- I can- I can help them–”

“They're already gone, you can't save them, it's just a hallucination,” Jason cuts in softly. Fervently, Dick shakes his head.

“No, no, I can save them this time, they don't have to die, not again, not this time.”

And then Dick is scrambling away, away from Jason, away from safety, directly towards the edge of the roof–

“Dick don't–!”

He's reaching for Dick, lurching forward to stop him, but he's too slow and Dick is too far and he's hit the edge of the roof and he's reaching over like someone is falling and he's not close enough so he keeps going and his heart is racing and the blood is roaring in his ears and he's falling falling falling–

Without a thought Jason is diving over the ledge after his brother, arms outstretched, embracing his brother as he tackles him in mid air. Dick is clawing at Jason's leather-clad arms, trying to get away, but Jason can't help but realize they're still barreling towards the ground and that really doesn't sound like a good time so he tightens his grip and pulls out his grapple and shoots at the nearest point he can rely on for a good anchor spot.

A shriek is wrenched from his throat when the cable suddenly goes taut and both his and Dick's weights are wrenched to a violent and instant stop, practically tearing his shoulder out of the socket with the force.

“Why- why did you stop me- I could've saved- I could've saved them–!” Dick screams, uncaring of who hears them. He's still scrambling frantically in Jason's iron hold, intent on finishing his impromptu flight. Jason has half a mind to let him with every jostle that sends stabs up pain through his shoulder and down his spine. Unfortunately, he happens to like the chirpy, annoying big bird a little too much for that.

“They're not real, they're already dead!” Jason snaps back, only feeling mildly guilty about the flinch he receives for his poor delivery. “Just stop fucking moving, for fucks sake– where's your fucking comm–”

Through Dick's flailing Jason manages to lock his legs around the man's waist, hopefully keeping the man in place before he remembers the inhuman ways he can bend and twist his body in to get out.

Using one hand to get the comm unit out of Dick's ear is a hassle and a half and takes him biting his lip so hard it bleeds to accomplish, but he does manage it. As soon as he puts it in his ear he's nearly deafened by the cacophony of voices he can't even make out.

“Jay please, please let me- let me go, I need to–”

“Dick we are at least six stories off the ground I am not letting you go to chase the ghosts of you past that you can't save anymore!” Jason nearly shouts, rifling around in his belt for another antidote.

“Why the hell are you six stories off the ground?!”

“Is N okay?”

“Sounds like he was tagged.”

“Hood, report.”

The last voice is so painfully Batman it makes Jason flashback to his Robin days.

“Dickwing got fear gassed, jumped off a roof before I could administer the antidote. I caught him, dislocated my shoulder in the process, and can't get us down,” he lists out automatically, grinning when he finally finds the syringe. “Fucking finally. Goldie stop screaming I need to stab you.”

On second thought, that probably wasn't the best way to say that, and that notion is backed up by Dick's renewed efforts to get away from him, but no one ever accused him of being good at emotions.

“Language.”

“Hood, dear god please say that in a better way next time.”

“Nah, I think it was perfect.”

“Is this normal comms for you all?”

“Yes,” Everyone on the comm responds in unison, including Alfred and even Dick through his sobbing, which quiets down once Jason finally gets a dose of the antidote in him. He uses his free hand to support his brother's head, not wanting him to have a fucked neck on top of the wicked hangover their antidote gives.

“I'm almost finished up here, Hood, then I can come swing by,” Stephanie finally says once everyone is done with their laughing. Jason lets out a sharp breath, inhales, holds it, then exhales again.

“Yeah, sounds good, awesome. I'll just be. Yknow. Hangin’ out,” Jason responds flatly. “Not like I have a dislocated shoulder I'm hanging from or anything, nope.”

“You have gone through far worse before,” Damian tuts. Jason rolls his eyes.

“That's not the point, demon brat. Focus on your damn fight. And Spoiler, grab my helmet off the roof whenever you get here.”

“You got it.”

[smolandweirdwriter]

Ohh please gimme some Adaine who uses her oracle knowledge subconsciously.

Gimme an Adaine who brings an umbrella w her to school even though it's sunny af with no cloud in the sky and the second she gets asked why she has it and she starts to question it herself it starts pouring like there's no tomorrow.

Give me an Adaine who catches a mug a (finally!) sleeping Riz subconsciously swiped off the table without even looking and then dropping it herself cause what the fuck just happened?

Give me an Adaine who somehow always has the perfect snack at the ready whenever one of the Bad Kids feel down, even if they never said anything

Give me an Adaine casually stepping to steps to the left mid-conversation as something (or someone?) comes barreling, barely missing her.

Give me an Adaine who, despite all this, never even seems to notice when it happens and gets completely startled when someone (...usually Fig) starts clapping or cheering when she sees it happen again

Just...subconsciously-using-her-Oracle-visions Adaine

Adaine has uncanny knowledge of where to find things. If someone's lost anything, they'll go to Adaine and Riz. Riz is much better at long-term sleuthing-type missions as Adaine can see many possible or likely futures but it's not an exact science for finding things/people. If it's something she's been in contact with herself (ie, Fig loses her jacket and since Adaine is around it a lot, it’s easier for her to place where it might be in the future). 

Adaine finding people’s lost rings, watches, jackets, etc. 

The Bad Kids are debating whether or not they should go out for lunch or eat at the cafeteria at school one day. Adaine is vehemently pro them going out of school, but can’t articulate why. 

At lunchtime, they’ve decided to stay at school, and Adaine can’t quell the fear that something is going to happen.

As Fabian begins to head out to the field, Adaine suddenly yelps and tackles Fabian to stop him from going too far.

“What the hell, Adaine?”

Suddenly a thirty-foot tall Arthur Aguefort smashes the bleachers Fabian was heading for.

“You still really can’t get that big!” Aguefort shouts as he careens away, leaving a path of destruction in his wake.

The other Bad Kids stare at Adaine in shock. The truth is, Adaine wasn’t quite sure how she knew. 

Adaine hands Jawbone his raincoat in the morning sometimes. He’s learnt not to argue with her on these days— she always knows when rain is coming. Adaine removes all the caffeine from Mordred one day. (Sandralynn is not pleased with this decision.) That same day, Sklonda is heading out of town and calls jawbone to ask if Riz can stay with them. He’s not allowed coffee anymore because it’s become addictively bad for him. Adaine buying a set of guitar picks and the next day Fig loses hers. Adaine bringing bandaids with her and running into Gilear later that day with a cut knee from some comedy-of-errors in typical Gilear fashion. Adaine doing somewhat random things because she just knows.

[justheretodump]

this is going to be dc x danny phantom x miraculous ladybug x spiderman

pt 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

for those who aren't familiar with every show, here's a lore explanation

---

when marinette had reached out to cat blanc, her heart bled with conflict. she had been wrong to give adrien the gift, wrong to use her powers for selfish reasons. regret coursed through her veins, sadness clouded her face with tears, and hatred brewed at the man gabriel agreste chose to be. her last visage was that of cat blanc kneeling in pain and her heart hurt for him.

---

peter parker had not survived his encounter with the vulture on the beach. he had enough time to tie the man up but amongst the scattered debris and plane cargo on the sand, he had slowly fallen to one knee, and then the other, before slumping forward with a last breath.

his only thought was that may parker would have dinner alone, and what kind of nephew was he to miss family dinner?

---

red robin did not trust many people. his family and his titans, undoubtedly. in a professional capacity, a few of the justice leaguers and close colleagues like gordon. outside of that, he tended to tread with caution. like every robin before and after, it was hard to refuse batman's particular brand of paranoia. dick had always stood out by sometimes (the key being sometimes) refusing bruce's hardheaded wariness. jason had the emotional intelligence of a pumpkin, though he would cooperate with "untrustwrothy allies" just to spite bruce. it fell on to tim, then, to be a carbon copy of his mentor. c'est la vie, and all that.

when batman received a call from constantine asking for technological help, red robin eyed the comm warily. justice league dark needed every member available due to the recent ghost cases and the australian running off had been bad timing.

"batman," the man's voice was serious and fast-paced in the echo of the cave, "jazz called from illinois, the call cut out, bad signal or something. she was panicking. i need you to try and trace it."

batman hadn't needed to say anything, red robin had already begun to search for all state phone towers emitting a weird signal.

"springfield isn't turning up anything."

"no, no," constantine denied bruskly, "she mentioned another place, amity park. i don't know where the fuck that is, she's never talked about it."

oracle, from her corner of the computer wall, piped in, "jazz fenton was transferred to springfield's house for wandering girls when her family passed away in a house fire in amity park."

"why would she visit her family house after all this time?" batman mused.

"well," barbara continued, "says here the house was passed to her name when she came of age. maybe she finally wanted to check on it."

"she wouldn't just leave," constantine pressed, "she was obsessed with the ghost cases we've got going on."

red robin stopped his typing to read the silenced comm link blaring at the edge of the screen. "batman, we've got zatanna online."

"oracle, patch her through."

while zatanna spoke to oracle through her headset, red robin frowned at the messages on the terminal. signals across the town were poor, barely enough to reach springfield. anything further than that was a miracle connection. citizens would have to direct all communication to springfield before accessing the wider world. red robin tried pingponging the signal to other stronger towers but they were incompatible. his frown deepened. what obscure provider did they contract for the town?

"batman," oracle called, voice steely, "we've got news about arabia.

the pit disappeared."

---

"superman," spoke red robin's voice through his earpiece. clark winced. sudden calls with no warning were the bats' specialty, no matter how disliked it was.

"hello to you too."

"busy in metropolis?"

clark stared from his place in the sky at the traffic jam on the expressway. he shrugged, "no, not really."

"great, i'm sending you coordinates to jazz fenton, she works with the jld. 45 minutes ago her call to constantine cut off. it's the first time she's talked to him in two weeks, gone missing somewhere in illinois."

clark darted through the air, red robin's no-nonsense voice cluing him in on the severity of the situation. he didn't know jazz fenton nor constantine very well, but a fellow hero in need of help was always an important matter.

he zoned in on the blinking dot of his wrist watch - a justice league perk from the bat himself.

"any idea what i'm going to get?"

"not really," red robin drawled, "all we know is she sounded like she was in a panic. the location isn't hers, it's her phone signal before it cut off."

"alright, be there in 5."

---

tucker foley blew a bubble with his gum, letting it pop in boredom as he walked down the sidewalk. it was a sunny weekend afternoon, and the record store had sold out of chappell roan albums already. probably paulina again. he couldn't be too mad, it was probably the lesbian gods favoring an actual lesbian.

the town was a bit more busy than usual. it was thanksgiving week and all the out of state family members were passing by to reunite.

nobody in the hustle of the square really stood out; there went the baxters arguing about how many potatotes were needed for dinner, and mr. lancer with his new partner (a boston dentist, mrs. babette had whispered over the grocery aisle last week).

pulling out his phone, he dialed sam. they were meeting later tonight, but tucker felt it was important to pass on that the dentist was wearing gothic clothing.

just as sam muttered a clipped "what do you want?" from the receiver, two very strange things happened before tucker foley.

one, a weird object whizzed through the air, too fast for the naked eye to fully figure out. tucker thought it was superman, which would've been pretty cool, but it was probably a fighter jet from the nearby base. they'd never taken their jets out before, but what did tucker know about military operations?

secondly, and perhaps the most important one, was a flash of ginger hair out of the corner of his eye. he turned to look, and the figure hurrying down the street made his breath catch. distant memories of a boy's laughter rang in his head as he watched jazz fenton, older and looking harried, basically speedwalk with her phone in hand.

he choked as he swallowed his gum.

"sam," he whispered, the girl replying with a worried "tucker?"

"sam, i think i just saw jasmine fenton."

[letthemkook]

☼ THE PANTHEON SERIES: INFERAEL K.SJ ☼

Part 2

Pairing: Apollo! Kim Seokjinx Headstrong MC (You as Syrine)

Genre: Dark Romance, Mythological Fantasy, Psychological Thriller

Themes: Divine Obsession, Power Imbalance, Fate vs. Free Will, Curses, Celestial Conflict

Warnings: Yandere Behavior, Emotional Manipulation, Dubious Consent, God/Mortal Power Imbalance, Grief, Death of Family Members, Possessive Behavior, Violence (Implied), SMUT

Intro: You cursed the heavens, and the heavens sent him. Apollo descends — golden, wrathful, and obsessed— to claim the girl who dared defy the sun. In your grief, you become his divine fixation… and his inevitable possession.

 ⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊ 

Part 2: Sun Spoken

Apollo did not speak when she returned.

She crossed the scorched temple courtyard, face blistered, hair stuck to her brow, blood dried along the lines of her wrists. The golden scale was clutched to her chest like a relic.

She dropped it at his feet.

It struck the stone with a clang.

“You said before sunset,” Syrine rasped, barely standing. “I’m here.”

He should have struck her down.

He should have scorched the defiance from her bones, as the others expected—left her ashes as a warning to those who doubted the gods.

But instead, he stared.

The light behind his eyes flickered strangely.

“You used wit,” he said, almost to himself. “You outsmarted a creature born of my fire.”

She swayed on her feet, but met his gaze. “You gave me a task. I completed it.”

“And you still speak without fear.”

“I told you. I have nothing left.”

Something twisted in him at that.

Not pity. Never that.

It was hunger.

Not for her flesh—but for her will.

He wanted to see it break. To see her bend not because he commanded it, but because she wanted to. Because no one else could hold her, could match her, but him.

She didn’t understand it yet.

But she would.

—

Later—above the clouds, in halls where time curved and starlight pooled in fountains—the gods convened again.

“She lives,” Hera said.

“She defied a divine beast,” Artemis muttered. “And he let her.”

Zeus narrowed his eyes. “You promised she would fear us.”

“She will,” Apollo said. “She just hasn’t yet.”

“Then why do you dream of her voice?” Hermes asked, teasing. “Why do you call her name in your sleep?”

Apollo turned slowly. “Because she is dangerous. And because danger is beautiful.”

They stared at him.

“You’re too close,” Demeter said quietly.

“She is only mortal,” Poseidon growled.

“She is mine,” Apollo snapped.

A silence rippled through the chamber.

“She has power over you,” Hera said coldly. “That makes her a threat.”

“I will prove otherwise,” Apollo replied. “I have another labor. I will show you that I am still a god, and she is still only human.”

But even as he said it, he knew the line was beginning to blur.

He couldn’t stop watching her. Couldn’t stop remembering the shape of her mouth when she swore. The trembling in her legs when she refused to kneel. The stubborn spark in her eyes that refused to die.

She had become the fire.

And Apollo—sun god, eternal, divine—was stepping too close to the flame.

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

The next morning, Syrine woke to find the golden scale gone.

In its place sat a folded strip of parchment sealed with Apollo’s sigil — a stylized sun with thirteen rays. She didn’t touch it at first. The fire in her palms had barely cooled. The backs of her thighs still stung from the heat of the sand. Her muscles trembled with exhaustion.

But she opened it anyway.

Seek the answer to a riddle that has no name.

There is an Oracle who speaks only in lies. Find the truth beneath her tongue.

If you fail, your voice will be taken in place of hers.

Syrine exhaled.

She had expected fire. Another beast. A race against the sun.

But this?

This was worse.

—

The Oracle lived on the Cliffs of Theros, where wind screamed like wolves through the high stones. She wore no veil, no crown—only a ragged shawl and a thousand-yard stare. Her eyes were filmed white from too many visions. Her mouth curled in a cruel smile.

Syrine approached warily.

“I’ve come for the truth.”

The Oracle giggled. “So has everyone.”

“I need an answer to a riddle with no name.”

“Then you must ask the right question.”

Syrine frowned. “But you only lie.”

“Exactly.”

The Oracle motioned her to sit.

They spoke for hours.

Each question Syrine asked was met with a cryptic contradiction. “The truth is beneath the lie,” the Oracle whispered once. “And the lie is buried beneath your need to believe it.”

Syrine, exhausted, leaned back.

And then she saw it.

The Oracle wasn’t answering her questions.

She was avoiding one — each time Syrine asked about Apollo.

The Oracle deflected, laughed, changed the subject.

So Syrine asked again, slowly: “What does he want from me?”

The Oracle’s smile vanished.

“To be worshipped,” she said.

Syrine leaned closer. “That’s not the lie, is it?”

Silence.

“You said you only lie. But that answer was truth.”

The Oracle’s shoulders sagged.

And Syrine understood.

“The lie,” she said softly, “is that this is a punishment.”

The wind howled.

“He wants me close.”

—

She returned that evening, wind-bitten and weary.

Apollo was waiting in the temple ruins, leaning lazily against a broken column, sunlight coiling around him like an obedient pet. He straightened as she approached.

“Well?” he asked. “Do you still have your voice?”

She threw the Oracle’s shawl at his feet.

“I know what this is,” she said. “You want devotion.”

He smiled, slow and sharp. “I want what I deserve.”

“Then you won’t get it from me.”

The smile deepened.

“We’ll see.”

---------

The next morning, Syrine woke to the scent of myrrh and sunlight.

A box had been left at the foot of her straw mat—finely carved, white cedar, glowing faintly with the remnants of divine touch. She stared at it for several minutes before opening it.

Inside: silks.

Golden, warm to the touch. So soft they melted between her fingers. Threaded with solar runes—protection against cold, fatigue, and wound. Beyond priceless.

Syrine closed the lid and pushed the box beneath the bed.

She wore her ash-streaked tunic again, the one that still bore the burn from the first labor.

By noon, fresh bread arrived. Warm. With olives and figs. No messenger. No note.

By dusk, the old scar across her left ankle—the one from falling off the cliff as a child—was gone. She hadn’t noticed until she pulled her sandals off.

And in the reflection of her water basin, she caught him watching her.

Just a flicker. His eyes in the surface. Gold against shadow.

She didn’t sleep that night.

—

Apollo watched her dream.

She resisted even in her sleep. Tossed and turned, jaw set.

He stood above her invisible, silent, a god made for worship—growing feral over a girl who refused him that one thing.

Other mortals would have bowed by now. Prayed. Begged to please him. Not her.

She walked into danger with his name on her lips only to curse it.

And still he craved her.

She was not a labor. She was a wound.

One he had no desire to heal.

—

By morning, Syrine awoke to find the ground outside her door swept clean. Laurel leaves scattered, sweet-smelling. A golden comb tucked into the edge of her mirror.

She snapped it in half.

—

That evening, Apollo conjured another scroll.

Enter the Garden of Echoes. Retrieve the lily that sings without sound. Do not listen to the dead. They will call you by name.

She did not ask him what it meant.

She went.

And behind her, Apollo smiled—not with triumph, but something darker.

He had begun to thread himself through her days, her survival, her sanity.

And still, she would not kneel.

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

The Garden of Echoes was no garden.

It was a prison for voices — old, forgotten, lost.

Syrine stood at the threshold, wrapped in a thin shawl, her skin still burned from the desert sun. There were no guards. No gates. Just mist, dense and cloying, and trees bent like grieving figures. She stepped inside.

The first thing she heard was her sister’s voice.

“Syrine… help me…”

She froze.

Then came her mother. Her father. Even the grocer from her village. The boy who drowned in the river when she was ten.

All of them spoke to her.

“You let us die.”

“You walked away.”

“We begged. You didn’t listen.”

She breathed in sharply.

Apollo’s instructions had been clear: Retrieve the lily that sings without sound. Do not listen to the dead. They will call you by name.

She pressed forward.

The mist thickened. It curled around her ears like breath. The path twisted. Trees reached for her hair. Voices whispered from beneath the soil.

“You are alone.”

“No one comes back.”

“Even he will abandon you.”

She stopped.

Then she whispered, “If I speak to them, I’ll be lost.”

So she didn’t.

Instead, she began to hum. A simple tune. One Althea used to hum while hanging herbs in the sun. The voices grew louder — screaming, pleading — but Syrine only hummed.

They couldn’t enter her thoughts if she didn’t open her mind.

She used their noise as a map. The voices intensified when she strayed toward the wrong path. When she moved away, they softened.

She moved toward the silence.

It took hours — or minutes, or days — time dissolved here. But at last, she found it.

A circle of stillness.

In its center, the lily bloomed.

Small. White. Unmoving.

No sound. No breath.

Syrine knelt before it and whispered the last verse of her sister’s favorite lullaby:

“Not by sound, but still I sing —

a silence no storm can bring.”

The flower bloomed wider.

And Syrine plucked it without trembling.

The moment her fingers touched it, the voices fell away — not silenced. Soothed.

She had listened in order to hear what was missing.

That was the answer.

—

Olympus, Later

Apollo held the lily in his palm.

He didn’t speak.

The flower was warm. Still faintly pulsing with her touch. Still smelling faintly of her skin, her sweat, her stubborn defiance.

“She didn’t fight them,” he murmured aloud. 

Behind him, Artemis stepped into the light.

“She’s clever,” the moon god said. “And that frightens you.”

“I am not afraid of her,” Apollo said, too quickly.

“Then why haven’t you ended it?”

“She hasn’t submitted.”

“You said you would break her.”

“I’m trying.”

“You’re failing.”

Apollo turned, golden eyes flashing. “I do not fail.”

“You already have.”

A heavy pause.

Artemis crossed his arms. “If she has power over you, she holds your sun. Your radiance. Your heat. That is more power than any mortal woman has ever touched.”

Apollo didn’t move.

“You will destroy yourself for her,” Artemis said. “Or the world, in trying to keep her.”

And with that, he was gone.

[jasper-tarot-reader]

Pick-A-Card: June 14, 2025

I’m using the Story Oracle by Katherine Furman and Laia Albaladejo to provide three batches of plot beats for those of you who are writing and need something fun to happen next. Take it or leave it as you want with your writing, it’s just ideas and inspiration.

So, pick a number between one and three, and let's go.

Pile 1: Rescue reversed, Stay On Target reversed, Fury reversed

Deserted. Abandoned to one’s fate. Left behind. Left for dead. Put or left in harm’s way. It’s not looking good. A poor choice unalleviated. Someone unworthy of trust.

Way off base. Wandering off. Losing the thread. Blown off course. Following one’s fancy. On a tangent. Out of hand. Meandering. Drifting away. Digressing. A stray from the herd.

A great stillness. A deep, imperturbable peace. Taking a deep breath. Exercising control. Benevolent understanding. Calm. One who is at peace.

Pile 2: Fear upright, It’s A Trap reversed, The Key reversed

Dread of what may come. The unknown. One’s wort nightmare. The monster made real. Scared out of one’s wits. Irrationality. Desperation. The promise of dire consequences. Hard lessons learned. That which must be faced. A shrinking violet. A coward.

The coast is clear. No ulterior motives at play. Plain as day. Straightforward, honest. Acting in good faith. Offering a hand. No bumps in the road. Set free. A trustworthy figure.

A red herring. Superfluous. Unnecessary. Questions of what and why. A hidden truth. Behind closed doors. Locked out. Locked in. A distractor.

Pile 3: Storm reversed, Mastermind upright, Moving On Up reversed

Clear skies and smooth sailing. A break in the clouds. Favorable conditions. Calm before or in the eye of the storm. A placid person.

The one pulling the strings. The power behind the curtain. The great architect. All-knowing. The brains of the operation. The designer of intricate plans. Having a finger in all the pies. A visionary. A manipulator.

On the decline. Getting knocked down a peg. Demotion. Down on one’s luck. Squandering one’s fortune. Losing one’s shirt. Backsliding. Back to square one. Privation. A social or material setback. The downwardly mobile.

[ladypiscesmoon]

I promised you all an update for Timmy and Armie: Consider it a little Christmas present. Happy Christmas to you all, mine starts tomorrow night, Christmas Eve, because I have a danish mother in law and the danish tradition is having dinner with the family and presents on Christmas Eve.

I got two new decks today in a beautiful shop here in the Netherlands, one of my favorites because they have so many beautiful things and good quality decks.

*the following reading is alleged/for entertainment purposes only*

Twin flame Ascension take me home oracle deck:

Armie: 11:11 Twin Flame/everything is possible, 4:4 Transformation/battle of Head vs. Heart

(4:4= alignment with your guides, 11:11=alignment with your beloved)

Armie wants to stand his ground, but his heart and his head are in a constant battle. I feel he knows his love for Timmy is not going away, it's a very unconditional type of love. Even if he knows that it would be easier to move on, he hesitates to let go fully. This love between them has the potential to be one of the greatest I have witnessed in my life and I think Armie feels it, but he wants to be taken seriously and be loved.

Timmy: 1:1 Acknowledge/take responsibility, 3:3 soul merger/ebb and flow

(1:1 =balance between your inner masculine and feminine energies, 3:3= alignment with your higher self)

Timmy has to focus on finding balance within. He feels all over the place at the moment. As ever, his back to back workload is an avoiding strategy, but it exhausts him AND delays reunion with his true love. He's got to accept the natural rhythm of life and the fact that it constantly changes. he's got to take responsibility for his actions and come to terms with what no longer works in his life. He alone has the power to change things in his life, if he makes these changes he will get what his heart desires. he has to connect again with his inner soul and what sets his soul on fire, so his future will be brighter.

Modern Lenormand deck:

the garden/the rider/the stars/the clouds/the mice/the fish

celebrating someones arrival

celebrating a birthday

all will work out for the best

improving confusion

something eating away over time

anxiety

stress

disease

arguments

financial loss

theft of money

Lots to unpack: it's a bit messy and contradictory.

I feel Armie is going back and forward in his head; what is he going to do about Timmy's birthday. I think they will not meet at Christmas probably. Too many hurdles and too much uncertainty about where they stand with each other. But not reaching out to Tim on his birthday is something Armie is not to keen on, even though they're not on the best of terms right now. , because it will hurt Timmy tremendously. He doesn't want to hurt him.

Timmy is all over the place. He has worked too hard and feels a bit manic to be honest. He really has to slow down after this campaign but knowing him he tries to forget his troubles by avoiding talking about them and by running away and working.

I'm not sure, but there seems to be some financial loss, or possibly a theft of money for Timmy.

Light shadow tarot: four of pentacles/knight of swords/seven of swords/ten of cups/eight of cups/ten of pentacles

Both want to keep things private, but it's Timmy particularly I felt when I pulled those cards. He wants to have this love, but he knows it will cost him other things and he's afraid. He's not the best at dealing with his intense feelings and he is ambitious, but I think he will see soon that it's not all that glamorous to have a lot of attention, or be famous because it makes him feel like he lost an important part of himself and in a way he mourns that too. He really does feel fu*d up at the moment, I think he has to rest, think what is important to him in life. I know he works hard, but particularly in the last year, he feels isolated and anxious. Gosh, I feel for him. It's not easy to come into fame so quickly and so young I understand why he's in doubt about a lot of things.

Having said that I feel Armie as well. He doesn't want bullshit like that in his life anymore. And why should he? It has cost him a great deal.

What do they want to say to each other?

the love angels oracle cards:

Tim to Armie: Put yourself first/forgive and release

He acknowledges that Armie has to put himself first and he loves him for being that strong now, but he also hopes Armie will forgive him.

Armie to Timmy: free yourself/twin flame

twin flame twice in one reading!I think Armie realizes it's not so easy to move on from Timmy. He wants Timmy to choose himself, to let go of the pressure to be successful at all costs.

twin flame love notes: top: Timmy, bottom Armie