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Anxiety
Pairing: Lando Norris x Girlfriend!reader
Warning: panic attack, anxiety, English is not my first language and maybe more…
Summary: Lando has a panic attack because of the pressure of racing at home and Y/n helps him to calm down and show him that he’s good enough.

On the eve of the British Grand Prix, Lando was struggling with the pressure.
I stood outside Lando’s hotel room, my heart heavy with concern. The British Grand Prix always brought a special kind of pressure for him, performing in front of his home crowd, and I knew this race was weighing heavily on him. The door was slightly open since I was outside making a call, and I pushed it open gently, my eyes immediately finding Lando sitting by the window, a shadow of his usual self.
His eyes were distant, his body tense. I could see the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the way his hands gripped the armrests of the chair. Lando was lost in his thoughts, drowning in a sea of self-doubt and anxiety.
"Lando," I called softly, hoping to anchor him back to the present. There was no response. I moved closer, my concern growing with every step. When I reached him, I knelt down and placed a hand on his arm. He flinched, his eyes wide and filled with tears.
"Lando, it's me." I said, my voice steady but filled with worry. "Talk to me."
He tried to speak, but his voice failed him. Instead, a choked sob escaped his lips, and he buried his face in his hands. My heart ached for him. I had seen him face many challenges, but nothing pained me more than seeing him in this state.
I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him close. His body trembled against mine, and I could feel his ragged breaths on my neck. "It's okay," I whispered, my hand gently stroking his hair. "I'm here, Lando. You're not alone."
For what felt like an eternity, we stayed like that. I could feel the intensity of his anxiety attack, the way his muscles were taut with stress, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. I held him tighter, whispering soothing words, trying to ease the storm raging inside him.
Gradually, his breathing began to slow, and the tension in his body started to ebb away. I pulled back slightly, cupping his face in my hands. "Look at me, Lando," I said softly. His eyes met mine, and I saw the pain and fear that had consumed him.
"You are an incredible driver, but more importantly, you are an incredible person." I said, my voice firm and filled with love. "You don't have to prove anything to anyone. I love you for who you are, not for what you achieve on the track."
He shook his head, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. "But what if I fail? What if I'm not good enough?"
"You are more than enough," I replied, my tone unwavering. "Success isn't measured just by wins or podiums. It's about passion, dedication, and being true to yourself. You've already achieved so much, and I'm so proud of you. But even if you never win another race, I'll still love you just as much."
My words seemed to pierce through the fog of his anxiety, bringing a clarity that he desperately needed. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight on his chest start to lift. "Thank you, babe." he whispered. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
"You'll never have to find out." I replied with a smile, kissing his forehead. "We'll face everything together, one step at a time."
“Okay.” He smiled a bit and I kissed him.
“I’ll grab you some water.” As I was getting up, Lando hugged me tighter.
“Can we just stay like this a little bit more?” His voice was low.
“We can stay like this as long as you want.” He didn’t said anything but just by the way he started to play with my fingers I knew that he needed more time like this.
We stayed there, wrapped in each other's embrace, the world outside the hotel room fading into irrelevance. The tension that had gripped Lando slowly gave way to a fragile calm. I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my own.
Eventually, I felt him relax, the tightness in his muscles easing. I knew he was finding his center again, the overwhelming pressure starting to dissipate. I gently ran my fingers through his hair, a comforting motion that I knew helped him relax.
"Lando," I whispered softly, "I believe in you. Not just as a driver, but as the amazing person you are. Tomorrow, when you get on that track, remember that it's not about proving anything to anyone. It's about doing what you love and enjoying every moment of it."
He nodded slowly, his eyes still glistening with unshed tears. "You're right. I need to focus on the joy of racing, not just the results."
"Exactly," I said, smiling. "And no matter what happens, I'll be here, cheering you on, proud of you every step of the way."
He sighed, a sound of release and acceptance. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he repeated, his voice steadier now.
"You'll never have to find out," I replied, a playful glint in my eyes. "Besides, I still need to keep an eye on you to make sure you don't get into too much trouble."
He chuckled, the sound a welcome relief from the earlier tension. "I'll try to behave," he said, a hint of his usual mischief returning.
We stayed like that for a while longer, wrapped in each other's presence, finding strength and comfort in our love. Eventually, I pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes. "Are you ready to get some rest now?" I asked gently.
He nodded, his expression more at ease. "Yeah, I think I am. Thanks to you."
“How does a bath sound?” I asked him.
“Sounds very good.”
“I’ll prepare one for you and then we can get some rest.”
“Thank you.” He said and I went to the bathroom and prepared the bath.
I helped him get up, guiding him to the bathroom, I helped him get out of his clothes and the he get in the bathtub.
“Is I warm enough?”
“It’s perfect, just like you.” He said and I smiled at him. “Wanna join me?”
“I’ll love to.”
After some time in the tub we got out, got dressed in our pijamas and went straight to bed. He lay down, and I pulled the covers over him, and I laid on the other side and I think for the first time ever he was the little spoon.
“Wow, this is good.” He said getting cozier.
“What is good?”
“Being the little spoon.”
“I’ve told you many times but you never believed me.”
“Yeah, but usually I’m the one that protects you and not the other way around.” He said with his voice very low.
“I know baby, but sometimes you need to be the one that should be protected.” He didn’t said anything. “I'll stay awake until you fall asleep."
Lando reached out, taking my hand in his.
"I don't deserve you." he said softly.
"You deserve all the love and support in the world." I replied firmly. "And I'm here to give you just that."
He smiled, a genuine smile this time, and closed his eyes. I stayed behind him, holding his hand, watching as his breathing evened out and he drifted off to sleep.
As I stay there, I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of pride and love for him. Lando was an extraordinary person, and I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, stronger than ever.
When I was sure he was asleep, I quietly moved and turned off the lights, leaving a small night light on. I kissed his forehead one last time. I held his hand and closed my eyes to get some sleep before the next day.
Tomorrow would be a new day, a new race, but tonight was about love and support, and in that, we had already won.

Bonus scene!
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“Luv u baby” tagged: @landonorris



#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x you#f1#f1 instagram au#lando norris fanart#lando norris one shot#lando norris au#lando norris fanfic#lando norris icons#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris mclaren#lando norris#lando norris x you#lando norris x oc#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x female driver#lando norris masterlist#lando norris angst#lando norris blurb#lando norris series#lando norris drabble#lando norris social media au#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 x y/n#ln4 fic
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The Family: Eve's Anger Issues

The tension in the living room was thick. Eve’s clenched fists were shaking at her sides, her chest rising and falling in rapid breaths. Rai, typically reserved, stood near the corner, her posture stiff as if bracing for impact.
The rest of the kids were scattered around the room, nervous, their eyes darting to each other but not daring to move closer. The air was charged, like a storm on the verge of breaking.
Eve's voice cut through the silence, low and seething, “You don’t get it, do you, Rai? You think I can’t tell when you’re just trying to get under my skin?”
Rai, looking like she wants to shrink into herself, opened her mouth but didnt say anything. Her wide, expressive eyes darted to the others, silently pleading for someone to intervene.
“I didn’t mean to—” Rai started, but Eve’s glare silenced her instantly.
“I don’t care what you meant!” Eve snapped her voice rising, hands trembling with barely contained rage. “Just stay the hell out of my way.”
The others shifted nervously, avoiding eye contact, clearly terrified of what might happen next.
They knew Eve’s anger issues well, but this felt different—more intense than before. Everyone's on edge, unsure how to handle the situation.
That’s when Luna stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. “Eve, stop,” she said, her usual composure steadying the atmosphere. “Take a breath. This isn’t helping anyone.”
Eve whirled on her, her fists now balled tightly, eyes flashing with the familiar fire. “What? You think I care about your little ‘calm down’ speech?” She spat out the words, pacing aggressively. “No one gets it. I’m tired of it.”
Luna didnt back down. Her posture was strong, like she’s used to being the peacekeeper in moments like this.
“I know you’re frustrated, Eve. But this isn’t the way to solve anything.” Luna took a slow, measured step closer. “You can’t take it out on Rai. It’s not her fault.”
Eve’s breath hitched for a second, her gaze flickering between Luna and Rai. But the anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface. “She... she’s just so damn... quiet,” Eve spat out, hands opening and closing like she’s about to punch something. “I can’t deal with her being so—so distant all the time!”
Most of them already knew Rai was as antisocial as they came but oh well…
Luna’s expression softened. “She’s not quiet, Eve. She’s... different. She’s not trying to upset you, but you’ve got to stop reacting like this.” She paused, her tone gentle but insistent. “Please, just talk to her. It’s not too late.”
As the argument continued, Evangeline snuck out of the living room, phone in hand. Ash saw her leave and wanted to call out but decided against it.
Evie sank down to the floor away from the living room, calling me. “Mama…” she whispered. “It's world war three here.”
“Hold up, Sev, it's Evie.” I said before responding, “What's going on there, sweetie?”
“It's Eve.”
As Evangeline explained what was happening there, I could see Sevika going deep in thought beside me. “We're coming.” I said hanging up.
Evangeline sighed and returned to the living room.
Mimi gave a half-hearted laugh, but it came out more nervous than anything. “Okay, okay… this is a bit much even for me,” she muttered, before looking at Libby for some kind of reassurance.
Libby, who had been avoiding the whole mess, finally let out a sigh. “Whatever. As long as she doesn’t wreck anything, I’m good.”
Ash, still standing in the corner, looked like she was trying to decide whether she should step in or not. She scratched the back of her neck, clearly uncomfortable.
And then, the door swung open—
I instantly walked over to Eve, not bothering to take my beige heels off. I pulled her in a hug, her head against my chest. With a huff, she wrapped her arms around me, too but then calmed down surprisingly quickly.
“Geez, you kids.” Sevika muttered, looking at Ash, “You good?”
“Yeah, just thought Eve would eat Rai alive for a teensy weensy second there.”
Luna saw Rai shedding a few silent tears and swiftly wiping them off with her sleeve— the others saw too. Everyone started hugging Rai, Mimi being the first to squish her cheek against Rai’s.
“I didn't mean to lash out.” Eve said seeing Rai cry, she hid her face in my chest and I sighed. “It's okay.” I whispered.
After a while longer of Eve staying tucked under my arm, I gave her a pat on the shoulder. “C'mon, go join your sisters.” I nodded towards the group hug surrounding Rai.
Eve’s eyes were now glossy when she ran into the group hug, shoving Mimi away and hugging Rai— now both of them sobbing.
I exhaled deeply before smiling slightly at the scene. Sevika walked up beside me, placing a hand on my waist.
“You did well, babe.”
“I didn't do anything.” I leaned my head against her shoulder.
“I'm just so proud of them.”
“I am, too.”
#arcane#sevika my love#sevika is my wife#sevika i love you#arcane sevika#sevika x reader#sevika is so much more then a henchman#sevika#wlw#sevika arcane#sevika league of legends#sevika lol#sevika imagine#sevika is a chewtoy worth risking your life for i feel#sevika please#sevika tag#sevika season 2#sevika save me#sevika sevika sevika#sevika supremacy#sevika x you#sevika x y/n#sevika fluff#sevika fanfic#sevika my wife
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On A Colder Night Of The Year
A Young Boy Encounters A Fearsome Creature
A yuji and sukuna fan-fiction because there isn't enough about those two and I want to forget about the Mangas storyline. (First fan-fiction go easy on me guys.)
_______________________________________
"Heed my warning, Brat. Should I find you, I'll eat you. Is that clear?"
___________________________________________
Yuji discovered the village ablaze, the agonized shrieks sending chills down his spine. Blood and the acrid stench of charred flesh assaulted his senses - it was all too much to bear.
He had merely been fetching water from the nearby stream, as the villagers had instructed. It was not uncommon for them to send him on such errands, even in the biting cold of winter. They would cast him out whenever the opportunity arose. The bucket of water slipped from his grasp as he gazed upon the raging inferno before him.
Monster, freak, four-eyed, bastard child - he had heard it all before.
Yuji had been found by an elderly woman in the village one wintry night. She had taken him in and cared for him, and he had not been so reviled back then. At least when the peculiar markings upon his face were not prominent enough to inspire fear in the villagers. But now they had darkened into rich, crescent shapes. He knew not the reason for their existence. The kindly old woman who had sheltered him passed away on a cold winter's eve.
That was when the villagers' disdain for him had intensified. They no longer concealed their contempt. He did not mind, for at least he received sustenance and water in exchange for his labor. Even if the cramped cow shed in which he slept was less than ideal, it sufficed. Even if it reeked of waste, it was enough. Even if it was bitterly frigid in winter, it was sufficient for his needs.
Yuji felt a strange warmth for the first time since the old woman's demise - the cause being the conflagration consuming the village that had so despised him. Inexplicably, he found comfort in this heat, a peculiar sensation of solace.
But Yuji's attention was soon diverted by large footprints in the snow, accompanied by fresh blood. It was a captivating sight, for reasons he could not fathom. He followed the trail, though he should not have.
A four-armed being was feasting upon a woman he had once known from the village. It was perched upon a nearby hill, towering over the 7-year-old boy even in its seated posture. Its face was buried in the woman's flesh. Yuji stared at the severed head, eyes wide and mouth agape, the woman's tears dried but her blood still glistening upon her cheek.
Her kimono and undergarments were rent asunder, strewn across the snow. Yuji's gaze drifted to the four-armed entity. Its hair was the same peach hue as his own. He had never before encountered another possessing such distinct features, but this creature was surely no human.
"Brat. Do you have a death wish?"
A rough, deep voice sent shivers through him. The being was now regarding him, its face smeared with blood, a mask-like tattoo adorning half its visage. Most unsettling of all were its four crimson eyes.
"You should be fleeing by now," the entity growled, seemingly irked by Yuji's lack of response. "Since I am in a charitable mood today, I shall grant you ten seconds. Should I find you, I'll eat you. Understand?"
"Start running."
1
2
But Yuji remained frozen, captivated by the being's eyes. He felt the uncomfortable, rapid beating of his heart.
5
6
7
"You possess remarkable courage, Brat." the entity purred, amused, resting its upper elbows upon its thighs and cradling its cheek in its hand.
The entity regarded him intently, puzzled by the child's lack of movement. Was the boy not afraid? No, his trembling limbs and ragged breathing betrayed his terror. The child wore a simple, short kimono that left his arms and most of his legs exposed, his pinkish skin likely a result of the cold.
Something about the boy's unwavering gaze irked the being - normally, the child would be cowering on the ground, begging for mercy. "Time's up. Come here, since you seem so eager to be devoured." the curse huffed, gesturing with a long, bony finger. The being sighed, finding the situation rather tedious; a chase tonight might have been mildly entertaining, but this seemed less than promising.
"I won." The boy spoke,
"Hmm..?"
"I... didn't hide, so you technically didn't find me. I won," the child spoke up in a small, hoarse voice.
Sukuna stared at the boy, wide-eyed. Did this child truly outsmart him? He let out a booming laugh, genuinely amused and entertained by the young one's insight. "Alright, brat, I'll let you live. However, you must choose your fate: come with me to my shrine, or wander the streets and try to survive on your own. But if I find you again, I won't spare you, so choose wisely."
"Your shrine... does it have a condition?" Yuji asked suspiciously. Sukuna's grin widened as he tossed the woman's heart at the child's feet. "Eat that heart," he commanded.
The boy's brow furrowed, his lips pursing in distaste. "No, thank you," he replied, turning and fleeing.
Sukuna scoffed, wondering how long the child's frail body would last in the harsh elements. He picked up the heart, taking a bite and savoring the flavor. "Humans are foolish for not appreciating this," he muttered, heading in the opposite direction from the retreating boy.
___________________________________________
Migrating from one village to another was a common occurrence for Yuji, as was scavenging for sustenance from refuse like a wild animal. Being shunned and mistreated by the villagers, who labeled him a monster, had become his unfortunate norm.
The arrival of winter brought with it a new set of challenges. As people ventured out less frequently, Yuji feared he may not survive the harsh season. Huddled in an abandoned alleyway, he trembled, his body tightly embraced against the relentless snow that blanketed the streets.
It was then that Yuji heard whispers of a troubling rumor spreading through the village. A being known as "Sukuna Ryomen" had allegedly set fire to a neighboring settlement. Recalling the entity that had feasted upon the woman's body, Yuji realized this was likely the same malevolent force.
"That peach-haired child is probably the reason Sukuna has been burning down village after village," the villagers speculated. "We're next, but at least Sukuna doesn't strike the same place twice in a week."
Yuji paid little heed to their words, for he had made up his mind. He steeled himself and set out, his bare feet aching as he trudged through the snow, determined to find Sukuna's shrine, which he presumed rested atop a hill or mountain.
After much arduous travel, Yuji found himself standing before a disturbing structure. The shrine was a twisted, demonic perversion of a traditional Buddhist sanctuary, with horns protruding from the roof and human skulls hanging from its eaves. The entrance was a gaping, tooth-filled maw.
"This... looks like utter rubbish," Yuji muttered, yet he mustered the courage to knock on the large, red door. When it finally opened, a white-haired monk appraised him with a look of disdain.
"What brings you here, child?" the person inquired.
"I... Sukuna Ryomen. I wish to meet with it," Yuji responded, stumbling over the name.
The white-haired individual raised a brow. "It?" he repeated. "Well, Master Sukuna is currently out hunting, but I can venture a guess as to why you've come. You seek to work for Master Sukuna in exchange for shelter and sustenance, don't you?" With that, he ushered Yuji inside.
Yuji hesitated, realizing that if he were to enter the shrine now, he may very well be met with Sukuna's return, finding him and a swift, fatal end. "No, I can't... I'll wait for him outside," he said, shaking his head and stepping away from the entrance.
"Are you sure? It's still snowing," the white-haired individual warned.
"Yes," Yuji replied with determination, and retreated to a nearby tree to await Sukuna's arrival. He knew his current situation was pathetic, clinging to the faint hope of survival, but he was not yet ready to accept his demise. When Sukuna finally returned, holding the remnants of a human in his grasp and still consuming it, Yuji's body froze once more, and he cursed his own weakness.
Summoning his courage, Yuji reached out and grasped Sukuna's bloodstained hakama, his gaze fixed on the crimson droplets falling into the snow - a familiar sight. His breathing became ragged as that all-too-recognizable voice spoke.
"The hell?" Sukuna uttered, and Yuji's grip tightened on the fabric.
"I... won," the boy said, his voice broken.
Sukuna looked down at the child, recognizing the familiar peach-colored hair and similar features. He tossed the body aside with disinterest and seized Yuji's kimono from behind, lifting the boy to face him. Yuji's condition had clearly deteriorated since their last encounter; his body was covered in bruises, and he had grown thinner, still wearing the same plain kimono and bare-footed.
"You tryna dig your own grave, brat?" Sukuna huffed, brushing the stray strands of hair from Yuji's face, now longer than before.
"No... You said if you found me, you'd kill me. But I was the one to find you, so I won," Yuji replied, flinching as Sukuna's blood-stained finger traced his face.
"Ah, I see you still got that attitude from before, huh?" Sukuna mused, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Alright, what do you want, brat?"
Sukuna's eyes then focused on the unusual markings on Yuji's face, which resembled another pair of eyes. How intriguing, he thought.
"I want to work for you."
Sukuna scoffed dismissively. "With that frail body of yours, you'd barely get any work done. And I already have plenty of servants - you won't be of any use to me." His grip tightened slightly around Yuji's small hand.
Undeterred, Yuji pleaded desperately, "I can be of use to you! Please, take me in. I'll do anything."
Sukuna hummed contemplatively. "Anything, huh? Alright." He opened the door to the shrine, and the white-haired individual bowed reverently at Sukuna's arrival. The monk seemed surprised to see Sukuna holding the child close.
"Uraume, did you prepare my bath?" Sukuna asked, striding down the corridor towards the bathroom.
"Yes, my lord," Uraume replied.
"Prepare clothes for the brat."
The interior was opulently adorned with fine wood and gilded accents. Sukuna entered the bathroom, guiding Yuji along. "Why am I here?" the boy marveled.
"Take your clothes off and get in," Sukuna commanded, and Yuji complied.
Once in the bathtub, Yuji found himself submerged up to half his face, dwarfed by the oversized tub. He gripped the edges, trying to maintain his balance and avoid drowning. Sukuna then joined him in the tub, and Yuji was surprised.
"You too?" he asked.
"This was prepared for me, of course I'd take a bath," Sukuna huffed, eyeing Yuji's tight grip on the tub.
"Come here," Sukuna said, motioning to his lap. Yuji was hesitant at first, but slowly made his way over. Sukuna pulled the boy onto his muscular thigh, eliciting a small yelp from Yuji, who reflexively wrapped his arms around Sukuna's arm.
Sukuna then took Yuji's wrist, forming an O with his thumb and forefinger. "Tsk, your wrist isn't even covering half the circle," he muttered. "How old are you?"
Yuji looked up at Sukuna, his eyes following the movement of Sukuna's fingers as they glided across his wrist. "I'm eight," he answered, surprised by the curse's surprisingly gentle touch - a stark contrast to the thousands of innocents he had killed with those same hands.
Sukuna scoffed. "Eight? No child of eight years is this small. Brat, you look no older than five." He released Yuji's wrist and grabbed a nearby bowl and fine comb, scooping some bathwater. "Close your eyes," he instructed.
"I'll give you time to prove your usefulness to me," Sukuna said. "You have time until you get some meat on your bones. If you fail to prove how useful you are to me, I'll eat you, brat." Yuji simply nodded in response.
Sukuna let the water flow down the child's head, and Yuji gasped letting some enter his mouth. "The water tastes...good," he murmured. Sukuna raised a brow and began combing through Yuji's hair, untangling the knots.
"That's because it's milk and rose water," Sukuna hummed, surprised by the softness of the boy's hair, given his apparent life on the streets.
"Don't drink it, or do you want to get the blood and dirt from our bodies in your mouth." Sukuna warned. Yuji immediately spat it out, wiping his tongue.
"If you want, I could always give you blood to drink - tastes amazing, if you ask me," Sukuna grinned.
"No, thank you." Yuji replied in a small voice, wincing slightly as Sukuna ruffled his hair. Sukuna put the comb away and scooped more water, this time Yuji kept his mouth tightly shut.
Sukuna then reached for a towel, dampening it in the water and gently gliding it across Yuji's body. The curse couldn't help but see a resemblance to a small, stray kitten, and he scoffed at the thought. Sukuna noticed the little whimpers Yuji let out at certain parts of his body, likely due to bruises, and he applied an even gentler touch with the towel.
Sukuna took notice of the lighter color of Yuji's peach-colored hair, now that dirt was no more. The child turned his head to look at the curse. "You're shining, brat," Sukuna remarked.
"Can I do the same to you?" Yuji asked eagerly.
Sukuna looked at him with disinterest. "What will you even manage with those small hands?"
"I can do it!" Yuji insisted. Sukuna shrugged and handed the boy the comb. Yuji held it carefully, not wanting to lose it.
He looked up at Sukuna, realizing that with his height, he couldn't reach the curse's head. "Could you come down?" Yuji asked awkwardly.
"Excuse me?" Sukuna raised a brow.
"Sorry... I can't reach your head," Yuji apologized, looking down.
"I don't go down for anyone, brat."
Suddenly, Yuji found himself lifted onto Sukuna's shoulders, his arms hugging the curse's face tightly.
"Are you trying to suffocate me?" Sukuna grumbled, his voice muffled as he lightly nibbled on Yuji's arm.
"Ah, sorry," Yuji quickly retreated his arm, his eyes now fixed on the bowl, wondering how he was supposed to use it from up here.
"Uh, Mister... could you give me some water?" Yuji requested.
"Mister? Don't call me that," Sukuna scolded, scooping water into the bowl and handing it to the child.
"Thank you," Yuji murmured, taking the bowl.
"Close your eyes," Yuji said, mirroring Sukuna's earlier actions. The curse grinned.
"I'm doing all the work here, brat. What kind of service is this?" Sukuna taunted as Yuji let the water flow through his hair, feeling the comb gently run through it.
"Sorry... when I get taller, I won't need to be put on your shoulders," Yuji said, handing the bowl back to Sukuna.
That is if he survived that long.
Yuji then began combing through Sukuna's hair, surprising the curse with his skill. It felt almost like a massage.
"Hmm, maybe you're not so bad after all," Sukuna mused. "What's your name?"
"Yuji."
"Just Yuji?"
"Just Yuji..."
"Hmm."
#sukuna ryomen#sukuna#yuji itadori#jjk#fanfic#sukuna and yuji#slight angst#jjk yuji#jjk sukuna#not canon#bad parenting#jujutsu kaisen#heavy themes
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Web of Worries
by Scandalous_Manniquin_Head Music blasted in my headphones as I packed my backpack. Lets see if my mom will be less of a bitch if I run away, even if its only for a day or two. If I'm lucky, I'll make her realize she's a bad parent. She always gets guilty like that. She's gonna take the hint for a week or two, then go right back to not-so-subtly suggesting that she hates everything about me. Or Alex Alsy is a fourteen year old girl with raging mommy issues. She straight up runs away bc she hates her so much. (Please excuse the rapid change of topics, lets just pretend its her ADHD and not poor writing) Words: 6598, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, DCU Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake (DCU), Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown, Duke Thomas, Cassandra Cain, Alfred Pennyworth, Jim Gordon (DCU), Original Characters, Spyder, Gothams Very Own Spyder, Gothams Spyder, Alex Alsy, Iyan Yu, Alexis Alsaedy, Black Cat - Character, Other Character Tags to Be Added Additional Tags: i dont know how to use tags, Spidersona | Original Character as Spider-Man, Fireworks, New Years Eve, tweaking out from fireworks, Technically super senses asmr, Sensory Overload, not from the asmr tho via https://ift.tt/wVCNmX0
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Top 5 revolutionary EV trends to witness in coming years
The electric vehicle market is expanding at a rapid pace. The industry is becoming bigger with each passing day with the launch of cutting-edge electric cars that bring an essential amalgamation of style, design, comfort, and performance. The latest in the list of electric vehicles is the MG Cyberster, which is going to be the first electric sports car with highly competitive pricing. Due to its popularity, MG Cyberster car accessories are already making waves in the aftermarket. Due to the excellent growth of the electric vehicle market, there are 5 promising EV trends that we can witness in coming years.
· EVs will become more affordable.
The EV market is expanding at a phenomenal rate. It is quite certain that upcoming electric cars will become more affordable. In fact, the EV batteries that cost a bomb are expected to come under an affordable price tag to make it easier for every customer to buy an EV without worrying a little.
· EV sales to shoot up.
Almost every car manufacturer is focusing on EVs and launching multiple models to fill the growing vacuum. Knowing the rising levels of pollution and the multiple benefits of electric vehicles, everyone is attracted to EVs. Hence, the sales of EVs are expected to increase tenfold in the coming years.
· Improvement in the battery technology
The major concern of buyers while buying electric cars is the battery technology. Many of them are worried about its range, lifespan, and technology. Many automobile makers are already doing research on solid-state batteries to offer higher energy density, improved safety, and faster charging times. In fact, Toyota is already working on making a powerful battery that can offer a 750-mile range.
· Vehicle-to-Grid technology integration
Another major trend to witness in the near future in the EV industry is vehicle-to-grid technology integration. It empowers EVs to transmit the stored energy back to the grid to improve electricity demand and grid strength. The technology will also help to create a more sustainable and dynamic energy ecosystem.
· Improved EV infrastructure and employment
Since electric vehicles are raging all across the world and have become sustainable transportation, one can easily witness widespread and strong EV charging infrastructure and charging stations with the deployment of professional EV experts.
Final Thoughts
As we are stepping into the future, drastic and incredible changes will happen in the world of EVs. The electrification of transportation is beneficial for the environment and people. One can not only save the ecological balance but also the fuel cost to a great extent. To extend the life of EVs, one can invest in premium accessories. For instance, if you are planning to buy an electric sports car, the Cyberster, you can buy MG Cyberster accessories, including MG Cyberster floor mats, an MG Cyberster cover, and many more to protect its exterior and interiors from damage.
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/eco-terrorism.html
This week, the Capital’s roads were blocked by several fractured protest groups, of what could frankly be described as genuine eco-terorrists. All of them chanting the same inane—and frankly illiterate—message: We don’t want concrete, we want trees!
Pet-owners, unemployed parents of kindergarten-age children, street hoodlums, elderly women, and various other undesirables were out on the streets, begging someone from the fourteenth provisional caretaker government to do something about their inter-apartment courtyard, which usually serves as nothing more than a public lavatory to all the stray homeless and animals in a seven kilometre radius.
Talk about complaining to a wall! These people are so out of touch with reality that they think there’s enough funds left untouched in the yearly parks and public works budget to bankroll all the concrete needed to glaze over their little patch of highly-fertilised shrubbery.
We sent one of our journalists over there to check on the situation, and he couldn’t get there because the roads were blocked! Not only are these people a nuisance to society at large, but they’re also against the freedom of the press!
In order to get this news out to you as quickly as possible, we have signed off on an unedited “free-form” essay by one of our interns, describing the experience on their commute back from work. Reader discretion is advised, as none of what follows has been altered, proof-read, or fact-checked by the editorial staff of our agency, and may be of dubious quality, unrepresentative of the journalistic standard we otherwise aim to uphold:
“I stood there, in the middle of the six empty lanes – a main road, leading to all corners of the Capital, thinking to myself how eerie the whole situation was. Perhaps even this one led to Rome. Hours before, the streets were filled with the hustle and bustle of internal combustion – the inertia of modern living, reaching its apex as rush hour came to a head. The absence of modern life. Now, all of that has grown silent. Several kilometres of empty void, leading all the way to the horizon. What a lonely sight it is indeed to walk.
The first step off of the pavement onto the empty lanes was like a leap of faith. As if at any moment the blockade would end and traffic would be let loose, like raging rapids bursting forth from a rupturing dam. It was a forbidden kind of step, which must have been what Lance Armstrong and the other Apollo 11 astronauts felt when their took their first steps on the moon. I couldn’t help but be unnerved. Seven lanes – one for each day of the week. A domain of two-ton machines, now encroached and tread upon by a softer, more tensile creature.
The crowd was being corralled, like a herd of sheep, by a pack prairie dogs, wearing tactical vests. Their unshakable resolve bent into allowing public transport and ambulances to go through. Perhaps the loss of human life was just about the only thing they valued more highly than the nature they were afraid of losing. If you could filter out the air-horns and the chanting, you could almost hear the silence that surrounded this singular point in time.
For minutes at a time, I’d walk in any given direction, without ever really reaching anywhere. It was a road that segregated those on it from the rest of the environment that physically surrounded them. An empty country, where everyone had left, and only the sick and the impoverished remained. A land where blood ran thinner than water.
It reminded me of that dreaded evening – Christmas Eve. A solitary invitation, almost given in jest, just some days ago. All of my brothers and sisters were no longer there, now living lives abroad, carrying different foreign-sounding surnames. All the grandparents and uncles you liked so much as a child – now dead from disease; rarely old age. All that remained were the few survivors, who never cared much about the family to begin with. People you’d try not to think about, but nonetheless receive nothing but love from. Perhaps they expected you to decline politely. You had heard them saying how once one of them left, the others would soon follow. How the family had already fallen apart, with them desperately pulling it together out of nothing but sentiment. Now we all got to look at it. All the cripples, the ill, the negligent, all the corpse flies already buzzing around the room.
You’d stand there among them, eating, hoping that you’d soon be aboard the next bus home. They’d light candles, hold hands, sing songs, say a prayer. You’re much too far from that now. Just keep putting bread in your mouth. Smile coyly when someone mentions your name. Time would pass. Then, they’d mention the dead. They’d mention those who were absent. A dour look would appear on everyone’s face, and you’d be expected to assume it also. They’d given up on a life beyond that with those who were no longer here. No new memories to be had – only old ones, to keep you company.
Someone would eventually make an excuse to leave, and you’d take the opportunity to tag along. Everyone looks at you, like you’ve taken something away from them. They say they are happy, but they know they probably won’t see you again. You don’t want to feel this guilt again. You have a duty to yourself, first and foremost. Who are they to say where you should and shouldn’t be? Must your own will be something you have to fight over? What a sad life it must be, to be so dependent on others. Why bother?
Preserve gardens and playgrounds for whom? There are no children of tomorrow. No one is going to want to bring a child into this place. Might as wall pave it all with concrete, so that at least when you look at it, you will know at a glance what this town is really like. An unassuming grey-coloured animal, rotting by the side of the road, filled to the brim with the most corrupting poison.”
These green-thumbed (if not green-headed) people would have you think that these government institutions are to be used like a bat wrapped in in razor wire. A tool to get what you want, regardless of how inane that ask might be. Institutions are to be used like every other tool in rhythmic gymnastics – hoops, ropes, ribbons, balls.
Public transport services were impaired by the accumulated horde, and delayed many commuters’ rides home, after providing value to their employers and their country via taxation.
If nothing else, these protest will serve their intended social function of allowing all these charlatans to all see each other one last time before getting arrested.
With people such as these, there is no hope for the Capital. They can't even be called citizens. They like to be lied to, stolen from, they like to be ruled by some higher power. And anyone who demands actual justice falls victim to their childish behaviour.
To discuss the topic further, tonight we have in the studio with us, one of the current senior inspectors staunchly defending the Capital, and a personal friend of mine – Sudislav Orlov. Merry Christmas, Mr. Inspector – how was your winter break?
Merry Christmas. First of all, thanks for having me back. Always great to be in good company, and in front of our viewers and listeners.
Christmas was… eventful, to say the least. Seeing family is always a challenge in our field, since we spend so much time out of the year working. It’s nice to sit down and have a nice normal holiday, every once in a while, with the people who really care about you. You could say that my gift this year was finally some peace and quiet, even if it wasn’t exactly what I’d said I wanted.
Inspector, what is your take on these so called citizens terrorising the streets?
The mayor said that he has no problem with them doing the rounds, so neither do I. He even said he might well go join them tonight, but knowing him, I think he’ll quickly find that he’s a very busy man when it comes down to that sort of stuff. You don’t know how much would I like to lock him up for obstruction of justice. (he laughs)
You’ve notoriously been pretty harsh with protest groups in the past. What would you say has changed in the past years when it comes to controlling crowds like this?
Well, first of all, they’re pretty lucky I’m no longer on the beat, because if it was me and my boys back in the day, they’d all be locked up and driven off before the first car coming in could brake for the stoplights. That and those were different times. People are a lot softer nowadays, and it doesn’t take that much beating to get them off the streets. The kids coming out of university would like to go home and bitch and moan to their friends online and on their phones than go out in the streets and disrupt traffic. We see that as a success on our part in keeping the peace, and things churning smoothly.
But this protest is still ongoing, isn’t it?
It is, but you’d be shocked to see what I’m seeing. Just today they were blocking the streets again, doing their usual routine. This time, however, you could barely call it a protest. Their numbers are dwindling. Even they can’t be bothered to get off their asses and show up anymore. It’s not new and shiny anymore – now it’s a commitment, and all that’s left are the people who really care. Eventually, someone on the organisational side will set a date and time for the next one, and no one will show up. They’ll be sitting there, alone, in the middle of a busy road, shouting at the top of their lungs, about how this or that isn’t right. No one will hear them.
They might even get hurt.
We wouldn’t want that to happen, now, would we?
Of course not.
So I’ll be there, when it happens. I’ll walk up to them, and personally lead them away in a nice warm place, where we won’t have to worry about how to get back home, which road to take, or about anyone getting hurt.
I think that’s a wonderful sentiment to end off on. I’m afraid that all the time we have tonight. Thank you for your time, inspector.
The pleasure is all mine.
—————————————————————–
> Capitalite (unregistered) says: Of course, these people are idiots who don't even understand what a growing disaster the protests are becoming! These elementalists don't realize that concreting, wherever it is, is gradually destroying them, along with nature!
> justpassingby says: The mayor should be careful with showing his support so that he doesn't get a "visit"......
> Fbone says: Such malice and vulgarity could only be born by a degenerate who doesn't even understand what all of this will lead to! This is all a government scenario! There’s no one left in this country anymore!
>Browinov says: Wonderful Orlov! The only one. Bow. History will speak for itself.
Next chapter: Late February, hopefully.
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*Hyderabad* , once known for its rich heritage and warm hospitality, now faces significant challenges due to *rapid urbanization* , *social discord, and declining public behavior.*
While the *city's IT* boom has spurred economic growth, it has *strained infrastructure* , leading to congestion, poor road planning, and *inadequate public transportation* .
This has fueled public hostility, with rising incidents of *road rage,* eve-teasing, and *aggressive behavior* .
Upscale neighborhoods like Gachibowli have become *hotspots* for chaos and lawlessness.
The city's growth is hindered by *effective governance,* insufficient law enforcement, and a *disconnect between authorities and citizens* .
To restore its reputation, Hyderabad must focus on *urban planning, traffic management, law enforcement* , and *community engagement* , ensuring that progress aligns with *safety and social harmony* .
http://arjasrikanth.in/2024/12/15/hyderabad-havoc-from-pearls-to-perils-urban-glory-turns-gory/

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Urshifu-Rapid-Strike @ Mystic Water Ability: Unseen Fist Level: 50 Tera Type: Water EVs: 44 HP / 198 Atk / 4 Def / 84 SpD / 180 Spe Adamant Nature
Surging Strikes
Aqua Jet
Protect
Taunt
Amoonguss @ Sitrus Berry Ability: Regenerator Level: 50 Tera Type: Water EVs: 244 HP / 188 Def / 4 SpA / 60 SpD / 12 Spe Bold Nature IVs: 0 Atk
Pollen Puff
Clear Smog
Rage Powder
Spore
Iron Hands @ Assault Vest Ability: Quark Drive Level: 50 Tera Type: Water EVs: 84 HP / 212 Atk / 12 Def / 140 SpD / 60 Spe Adamant Nature
Fake Out
Wild Charge
Volt Switch
Drain Punch
Chien-Pao @ Focus Sash Ability: Sword of Ruin Level: 50 Tera Type: Ghost EVs: 252 Atk / 4 Def / 252 Spe Adamant Nature
Sucker Punch
Icicle Crash
Protect
Sacred Sword
Flutter Mane @ Choice Specs Ability: Protosynthesis Level: 50 Tera Type: Grass EVs: 68 HP / 140 Def / 132 SpA / 4 SpD / 164 Spe Timid Nature IVs: 0 Atk
Shadow Ball
Moonblast
Dazzling Gleam
Energy Ball
Landorus-Therian @ Safety Goggles Ability: Intimidate Level: 50 Tera Type: Flying EVs: 252 HP / 36 Atk / 84 Def / 68 SpD / 68 Spe Adamant Nature
Stomping Tantrum
U-turn
Protect
Tera Blast
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Fighting in the city between the army led by General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan and General Mohamed Hamdan Daglo's paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) is now concentrated around military bases.
At the same time in Sudan's west, the conflict is worsening to "alarming levels" in Darfur, the United Nations warned.
Since the war erupted on April 15, the RSF has established bases in residential neighbourhoods of the capital while the army has struggled to gain a foothold on the ground despite its air superiority.
As the RSF fights to seize all of Khartoum, millions of people are still holed up despite being caught in the crossfire without electricity and water in oppressive heat.
On Tuesday the RSF attacked army bases in central, northern and southern Khartoum, witnesses said.
Mawaheb Omar, who has been stuck at home with her four children, told AFP that she expected Eid celebrations, normally a major event in Sudan, to be "miserable and tasteless as we can't even buy mutton".
Looting
On Saturday the UN urged "immediate action" to stop killings of people fleeing El Geneina, the West Darfur state capital, by Arab militias aided by the paramilitaries.
Washington has blamed the "atrocities" in Darfur primarily on "the RSF and affiliated militia".
The RSF is descended from Janjaweed militia unleashed by Khartoum in response to a 2003 rebel uprising in Darfur, leading to war crimes charges.
In the current fighting the RSF have been accused of looting humanitarian supplies, factories and houses abandoned by those displaced by the fighting or taken by force.
Daglo responded to these accusations on Tuesday in an audio recording posted online.
"The RSF will take swift and strict action" against those in its ranks who have carried out such abuses, he said.
The RSF had announced on Monday evening that it was beginning to try some of its "undisciplined" members, as well as the release of "100 prisoners of war" from the army.
Since the beginning of the conflict, both sides have regularly announced prisoner swaps through the Red Cross, without ever giving the exact number of those captured.
Daglo, a native of Darfur, also spoke of the fate of this gold-rich area where more than one in four Sudanese live.
We must "avoid plunging into civil war", he said.
The UN and African blocs have warned of an "ethnic dimension" to the conflict in Darfur, where on Tuesday Raouf Mazou, the UN refugee agency's assistant high commissioner for operations, told a briefing in Geneva there is a "worsening situation" in West Darfur state.
"According to reports from colleagues on the ground, the conflict has reached alarming levels, making it virtually impossible to deliver life-saving aid to the affected populations," he said.
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kindling had finally ignited on the eve of judgement day, swallowing a whole city in its conflagration. bodies thundered through escuchon's storied, wide stone streets, swarmed around centuries-old monuments, flowing madly in a sea fire of torch and lantern light threatening to burst at the seams, the glinting black iron of hammers and blades. the signature colorful facades of escuchon's buildings blend now in the single, angry palette of flickering orange amid shouts and screams, pyres of smoke-fire rising in isolated funnels from district to district where the riot had spun out of hand.
in the ocean of crushing momentum, he feels like a single stick of driftwood cast into the rapids, fighting against a raging current to get anywhere. fortunately, most of the fools are too busy surging blindly along to pay much attention to who ducks among them. at least it makes his job easier.
he bursts through the doorway of a ground floor residence whose top level has caught fire from a neighboring structure, ignores the clipped scream of the man huddled with his family in a corner behind a makeshift barricade of blankets and furniture. "get up! you need to get out of here!" the five cower further, staring at him with wide eyes struggling to comprehend in their panic. like blind sheep scared stiff, they huddle behind some poor excuse for safety, waiting for disaster to find them.
"did you hear me? you can't stay here." only after beginning to drag some of the chairs and tarps out of the way and wasting more breath repeating himself does understanding look like it starts to dawn on the youngest son first.
"papa, can we go? i don't like it . . . "
then the woman as she struggles to rise. "are you lord fraldarius' son? is he here?"
the mention of the old man ignites a spark of annoyance at his uselessness. of course he's missing at a time like this. "there's no time to explain. you have to get out. go through the back, run to the fountain, an—"
"death to the rats!! death to those dirty fucking rats!!!"
a passing mob. then a sudden splitting crack heralds a wooden beam's collapse, and felix throws himself forward with a loud curse as screams and vibration consume the ground floor space. all this over some robbers. faerghus really was out of control. when he pushes himself to his feet again and looks back, the way he'd come in is now blocked off, and billowing heat streams in from the new hole overhead, indicative of rapidly-spreading flame. damn it. "is there another way out??"
+ ╱ @blaiddllodi
nothing but ashes.
❪ m. recovery / riot ❫
#﹙ ˙ ˖ × �� + ╱ NOTHING BUT ASHES .#﹙ ˙ ˖ × ﹚ + ╱ BLOOD SACRIFICE OF THE LAMB HEARTED ‣ dimitri .#blaiddllodi#i hope you dont mind me bringing in old hcs ksjng#i did way too much worldbuilding on fraldarius territory back in the day#escuchon was a major city i hc'd second only to the capital and arianrhod#about an hour south ish of the fraldarius estate along the river which i named claíomh#orz sorry lsjngakjdg
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I think looking to Feyre, Helion or even Lucien to break Vassa's curse may be the wrong approach.
Helion has the power to break through spells.
I’d never seen such spell work. I’d sent my power over her, Helion too, hunting for any possible threads to unbind it. I found none. It was as if the curse was woven into her very blood.
So we have the first hint that Vassa's curse is not a spell or thread.
Koschei is the sister of the Weaver, a being who bled black and fed on life itself.
Which is pretty much how the Valg in TOG are described. So it's not farfetched to assume Koschei is also Valg.
In TOD, we have the following in relation to what the Valg have "infected" in both Chaol and Duva:
Black fire raced down his blood, his veins.
Even as it boiled the blood in his veins
Duva: A true parasite. A living shadow within the princess. Filling her blood, planted in her mind. She could feel the Valg demon within, raging and screeching.
I'm thinking Vassa's curse may also be a parasite of sorts, something within her blood rather than a spell that was placed upon her.
I used to think Lucien would be the one to free Vassa from her curse and while I think he'll travel with Elain to the continent, I think Elain will be the one to break her from it. That she may have been gifted Healing powers in the likeness of Silba.
Yrene and info from TOG:
Yrene laid her glowing hands on Duva’s chest. Light flared, bright as a sun. <;- Yrene’s healing powers are a glowing, bright light.
that healing: the blinding glow of her hands,
An acolyte had been waiting with a lightweight robe of lavender—Silba’s color—
Chaol halted in the middle of the room. “That the owl might not just be Athril’s animal form, but his sigil because of his loyalty to someone else.” And despite the warm day, Yrene’s blood chilled as she said, “Silba.” Chaol nodded slowly. “Goddess of Healing.” Yrene whispered, “Mala did not make that ring of immunity.” “No. She didn’t.” Silba did. <- Owls are associated with Silba, the Goddess of Healing and Gentle Deaths.
Elain:
Her sister turned toward her, glowing with health.
She glowed with good health.
Elain’s smile was as bright as the setting sun
She had been always so full of light.
“What can I get you, Elain?” Only with Elain did she use that voice. But Elain shook her head once more. “Sunshine.”
Elain headed for the doors, purple dress sweeping behind her (this might not seem like much but Elain is only noted as wearing shades of purple in SF aside from the questionable black dress).
There's also hints that Elain may be able to shift into an owl; her stealth like movements (since owls are silent predators), her rapid blinks, her cocking her head, her perching silently on the couch armrest, her question to Amren regarding changing her form and whether she was able to change back), that fact that she seems to have enhanced hearing and not only heard that Nesta and Cassian were in trouble with the King but she was able to make her way to them in time.
There's a clue in ACOWAR that suggests Elain may have helped heal Cassian: “You’re too heavy,” she pleaded, but still tried to raise him, fingers scrabbling in his black, bloodied armor. (Cassian). Then: Choking, blood dribbling from his lips, the king gaped at Nesta. My sister lunged to her feet. Not to go to Elain. But to the King. Elain rushed to Cassian, but the warrior was panting—smiling grimly and panting—. Then later: Nesta was watching them when I reached her and Elain at the tree-lined outskirts. Had she done some healing, somehow, in those moments after she’d severed the king’s head? Or had it been Cassian’s immortal blood and Azriel’s battlefield patching that had already healed him enough to manage to stand, even with the wing and leg? I didn’t ask my sister, and she supplied no answer as she took the water bucket dangling from Elain’s still-bloody hands,.
Nesta also took the rose carving that their father made for Elain and put it next to a figurine of a Goddess. She even notes that she wasn't going to think too hard on why she placed it there, why she hadn't just put it in the drawer.
It's interesting to me that Silba is known as the Goddess of Healing AND Gentle Deaths. Elain expresses concern over the soldiers:
“Will—will many of these soldiers die?”
She does not want to take credit for killing the King (even though others try to give it to her):
“I heard you made the killing blow,” he said. Elain studied the trees ahead. “Nesta did. I just stabbed him.”
She asks Feyre not to harm Graysen:
“No matter what, don’t kill him. Please.”
And cruelty bothers her:
And he knew the cruelty of the Hewn City troubled her.
Elain's powers also seemed to manifest on a stronger level when Lucien first came around which makes me wonder if they'll be Carranam. Healers use a light as bright as the Sun and since he's the Heir to the Day Court (and sun personified), it seems like her powers could almost work off his own (though they would still have powers independent to one another such as her Seer abilities and his ability to break through actual spells).
#vassa acotar#koschei acotar#pro elain archeron#elain archeron#tower of dawn#yrene westfall#helion spell cleaver#lucien vanserra#elucien
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Falling Dark Chapter 20!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31444262/chapters/91267360
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13886657/20/Falling-Dark
Draco had had one of those dreams.
He hadn't even meant to doze off. But a drink in front of his fireplace to calm himself before the unity class meeting had somehow drifted into sleep. And sleep had delivered the dream. (In his bed in San Cipriano, her on top, until he'd thrown her off and flipped her over. Tasted her ripeness until she'd begged him to fuck her. And he'd obliged, driving into her from behind as she buried her screams in a pillow.)
Funny that while his waking body yearned for Astoria, his dreams were only ever of Hermione.
Something about having all of his outward desire for her constricted had made his inner life utterly filthy. Not that any of what he'd dreamt was make-believe. They'd had an afternoon almost exactly like the one in the dream.
He sighed heavily. And now he was late: hurrying up to the classroom still groggy and half-asleep. He hadn't even been able to have a wank before he'd left.
So this was going to go well.
Draco shook his head and put on a burst of speed to mount the stairs to the fourth floor. He seriously needed to put the dream out of his head if he was going to be able to tolerate this meeting.
Pushing the door open, he was surprised to find the classroom dark and empty. He'd been certain she'd be here already—look up at him and then the clock with that slightly exasperated dip to her mouth…
He flicked his wand at the lights as he strode to the front of the classroom and dropped into a seat. A couple of deep, centering breaths did absolutely nothing to abate his raging desire, so he rooted through his bag for his notes. Amazingly, he'd actually prepared for this—on one of the long, boring days at the manor over the holiday. He'd put some real thought into a possible structure for the class and had some ideas he was actually, in some pathetically optimistic part of himself, eager to share with Hermione. Although his more rational side doubted how much the spell would let him do or say.
Finally, he got all his notes out and arranged, then bent over them with a quick eye. He glanced up at the clock and crossed his arms. Stuck his legs out and crossed them too. Closed his eyes and tried again to will the dream from his mind.
Instead he focused on tonight's challenge: the first time he'd be doing what he'd been avoiding for months—being alone with Hermione and talking to her. He didn't count the dress shop or the hall outside McGonagall's office. He'd had buffers then.
And even so, both had nearly killed him.
He truly had no idea how this was going to go. Would he be able to speak? And how would she be? He flashed on her flushed face in the dress shop again, the way she'd shifted self-consciously in the half-dark of that hallway.
He shifted too.
A small, petty part of him was sure she still wanted him—and was thrilled by it. Even though he knew he'd gone beyond the pale with his various rejections of her. And despite bloody Theo.
His foot tapped a rapid tattoo on the floor.
Although—he stopped tapping—he could swear she and Theo hadn't been together much lately.
Despite trying not to, he watched her. Often. Marked her presence and absence. Listened for her voice and breathed for a soft whiff of her scent. Which was how he'd gotten suspicious about Theo's intentions long before he'd seen them fucking kissing in the common room.
He clenched a fist and beat it softly down on his thigh.
Inhaled and exhaled.
But Hermione had been absent a lot lately. Holed up in the library studying, he suspected. He knew she was taking an ungodly number of N.E.W.T.s.
And she hadn't been with Theo.
In fact, he'd seen Theo with Daphne more than Hermione. Unsurprising considering what Astoria had told him this week about Daphne finally breaking up with Corner. Was Theo on the make again? New Year's Eve seemed to make more sense now. Although Draco had to admit that Theo's behaviour had seemed aboveboard. Nothing like his juggling act in San Cipriano.
Draco still didn't trust him, though.
He rolled his neck and made an impatient sound. Who knew what it all meant? And ultimately it didn't matter anyway. He was still struck in this hell with no way out.
He let that dismal thought cool his heated blood for a moment before opening his eyes and tipping his head back to see the clock again. She was ten minutes late. Astounding. He should send out a search party.
But then he heard a noise from the doorway. Maybe an indrawn breath? Maybe just the shuffle of a light step. But he straightened immediately, almost got out of his bloody chair for some reason.
She was there. In the doorway. Her eyes on him, but somewhere south of his face. Her lips were parted and that flush was staining her jaw again. She swallowed visibly.
Draco fought an extremely irrational urge to smile.
Eyes up here, Granger.
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Web of Worries
read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/wVCNmX0 by Scandalous_Manniquin_Head Music blasted in my headphones as I packed my backpack. Lets see if my mom will be less of a bitch if I run away, even if its only for a day or two. If I'm lucky, I'll make her realize she's a bad parent. She always gets guilty like that. She's gonna take the hint for a week or two, then go right back to not-so-subtly suggesting that she hates everything about me. Or Alex Alsy is a fourteen year old girl with raging mommy issues. She straight up runs away bc she hates her so much. (Please excuse the rapid change of topics, lets just pretend its her ADHD and not poor writing) Words: 6598, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, DCU Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake (DCU), Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown, Duke Thomas, Cassandra Cain, Alfred Pennyworth, Jim Gordon (DCU), Original Characters, Spyder, Gothams Very Own Spyder, Gothams Spyder, Alex Alsy, Iyan Yu, Alexis Alsaedy, Black Cat - Character, Other Character Tags to Be Added Additional Tags: i dont know how to use tags, Spidersona | Original Character as Spider-Man, Fireworks, New Years Eve, tweaking out from fireworks, Technically super senses asmr, Sensory Overload, not from the asmr tho read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/wVCNmX0
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shameless id-fic about dramatic fainting
“My mother is a poisoner by trade,” Evie says smoothly, the words clear and steady despite her clenched fists. “There’s not a lot of new test subjects available to her on the Isle. She would test new brews on me. Some of them had severe neurological effects. So yes, I’ve lost consciousness before.”
The nurse nods. “Ever without provocation?” she asks gently.
Evie takes a breath in. “Nothing is without provocation,” she says softly. “The world is inherently interconnected, and even minor dehydration can be considered provocation under the wrong circumstances.”
“Ever without a direct provocation?” the nurse prompts again, “Without poisons, or anything of that nature.”
Evie unclenches her hands, deliberately, and smooths her skirt over her knees. “No.”
A tick on the clipboard. “Mm. Alright. We’ll look into getting you some blood tests. You may have low iron levels, or something of that nature.”
“Thank you,” Evie says, voice deliberately calm. “May I go now?”
“Uh-uh. No. You are sitting down and staying right here on this bed until you’ve had rest, real rest, young lady.”
Evie’s royal blue skirt clashes with the pale blue of the infirmary blankets. “Of course, ma'am,” she says, “But I have an exam next period, so I really can’t stay–”
“I’ll write you a note. Get some rest.”
+
Evie wakes up–
Shit.
Evie wakes up in the infirmary with her heart pounding out of her chest, and a raging headache pounding firmly behind her temples. Her mouth feels sticky, in the sort of way that it always does when she manages to sleep during the day, and there’s a tiny bit of late-afternoon sun still filtering through the curtains and hitting her right in the eyes.
Her test was in her first afternoon block. She’s never going to be able to make it up, and once she fails one class, the professor is going to expect repeat infractions in the future, and spread the gossip on to the other professors, until she’ll never be able to show her face here again, because she’s weak, and couldn’t handle one day without sleep–
A door slams shut, and then there’s rapid footsteps coming towards her, and Evie is going to die, she’s never going to make it through something so humiliating as being found in the infirmary when she’s supposed to be in class, and her heart is picking up again so hard it hurts, and she’s got to do something, but she’s still just so tired and even the short nap she’s had isn’t helping, and she’s trying to hard not to cry and give it all away that she almost misses the gentle hand sweeping across her own.
“Hey, Eves,” Jay says. “You’re not alone, kay?”
Oh. She’s going to cry, for real this time.
“I know you’re awake,” Jay goes on, taking her hand and squeezing a bit. “You’re making a face, and I can tell that your mind is spinning again. We made sure you’ve got a make-up exam already scheduled, and Lonnie helped vouch for you, so we’ve got AK verification that you’re really sick.”
Evie sniffles, faintly.
“We’ve been rotating in for who’s sitting with you. Lonnie went to get Mal first, but she’s got her final class right now, so I’m spending my study period with you. You’re not much help with flashcards when you’re asleep, by the way.”
“Hah,” Evie says, opening her eyes for real and pushing herself halfway upright. “Very funny.”
Jay smiles at her, and strokes his thumb so, so gently over her hand. “It got you up, didn’t it?”
“It did,” Evie agrees, pushing her free hand through her hair, combing it back into place. “Did someone take off my crown while I was asleep?”
“Mal. She thought you’d want to wake up without it tangled in there. It’s on the table if you want it.”
“Is there water?”
Jay pulls a bottle out of his own bag. There’s a familiar little white paper cup on the bedside table, but after the last time, Evie doesn’t exactly trust the school nurse not to slip her drugs when she’s not looking, ‘for her own good’, of course.
It’s warm, and sort of tastes like hot plastic, but it’s some of the best water Evie’s had in ages.
#my fic#disney descendants#evie grimhilde#jay son of jafar#this is extremely shameless but if you want fic about characters dramatically fainting that's what I'm writing today
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☆🎶📻A list of the TFOE radio version summaries can be found here 📻🎶
☆ List of TFOE Niconama fan translations 📽️📺☆
☆TFOE Youtube 2020~ English unofficial fan translations ↓↓↓↓
Ep 1 Haruna Fuuka online slander
Ep 2 Ghosn's escape from Japan
Ep 3 Michelin star suicide
Ep 4 Covid's effect on entertainment industry.
Ep 5 Qurantining in Olympic village.
Ep 6 Antrum, world's most cursed movie
Ep 7 Comme de garcon scandal
Ep 8 Sawajiri Erika (drugs)
Ep 9 Housewives insulting Kawasaki Nozomi
Ep 10 Don Nomura uploads photo of father's corpse
Ep 11 From Miyamoto to you, censorship in the arts
Ep 12 Chinese restaraunts
Ep 13 No Olympic re-selection
Ep 14 Election candidates with same name
Ep 15 Prosecutor's retirement controversy
Ep 16 Space operations squadron
Ep 17 Sharp selling masks.
Ep 18 Baseball/Mercedes Benz
Ep 19 Japanese Chess
Ep 20 Corona Cafe.
Ep 21 BLM/Gone with the wind.
Ep 22 On location at Hosojimaya
Ep 23 Worst album in the world
Ep 24 Botched art repair
Ep 25 Comfort women statue
Ep 26 German virus experiment
Ep 27 Covid dogs
Ep 28 German virus experiment
Ep 29 Fashion brand that doesn't sell clothes.
Ep 30 Adult diapers
Ep 31 Whole band caught covid.
Ep 32 Public bath etiquette, amusement parks.
Ep 33 Baseball, mystery safe, mystery locations
Ep 34 Straight face challenge
Ep 35 If a giraffe wore a bow-tie...
Ep 36 The banning of snacks and sweet drinks displays from next to cash registers.
Ep 37 Dir en grey's vocalist Kyo imposter scam.
Ep 38 Discovery of new geoglyph in the Nazca lines.
Ep 39 Finland's female PM wearing a suit with no bra. Indecent? Sexist?
Ep 40 Appeal for buzzword of the year.
Ep 41 'Antique' displayed in showcase. Its real identity is...
Ep 42 Filling up at old style sweet shop Kamikawaguchiya - Part 1 Part 2
Ep 43 Man who was living in attic above supermarket arrested
Ep 44 'Guitar Center' preparing to file for bankruptcy & Urgent announcement
Ep 45 Walking from Kishibojin, Haunted staircase.
Ep 46 The filming for the Dir en grey 3D Real Avatar music video.
Ep 47 Rapid increase in pigeons at apartment complex, overflowing toilets.
Ep 48 Nike CM inundated with criticism
Ep 49 Ioka Kazuto's New Years Eve tattoo problem
Ep 50 Propheciser with psychic powers, Baba Vanga's predictions
Ep 51 - Amazing technology - Human with modified skull.
Ep 52 - Kami's avatar plan & Momotaro Dentetsu?! The aim behind the huge spread in conspiracy theories and related Youtube videos.
Ep 53 - Trying the pot shaped Baumkuchen.
Ep 54 - Potato UFO!?
Ep 55 - Rage Room
Ep 56 - Dir en grey live with audience scheduled! and, Thinking about the aftermath of inappropriate remarks.
Ep 57 - Self-staged kidnapping
Ep 58 - The truth behind the Dir en gery misprint, and mysterious voice.
Ep 59 - Ten days paid leave for your favourite idol's graduation
Ep 60 - Complaints about TV eating challenge.
Ep 61 - Going to Hardcore Chocolate Part 1 Part 2
Ep 62 - About the mystery voice in episode 58
Ep 63 - Executing the food combo plan Part 1 Part 2
Ep 64 - Kami produced avatar video reveal
Ep 65 - Reptile Cafe
Ep 66 - Tasai's challenge: Ultimate lazy man food: Curry Rice Part 1 Part 2
Ep 67 - Putting ads up in the train without permission, and talking about past flyers.
Ep 68 - Japanese made Star Wars
Ep 69 - Long-awaited visit to Chinese restaurant
Ep 70 - The first live with an audience for Dir en grey in 1 year and 4 months
Ep 71 - The Freedom of Expression flier, made by Kaoru
Ep 72 - 2021 Hanshin Talk
Ep 73 - Ronaldo removes Coca Cola bottles from view
Ep 110 - New Expressions in the style of the erotic novel
Ep 121 - Paul Stanley's past trouble with Gene Simmons (Summary)
Ep 122 - Winning bid for Kurt Cobain's guitar (Summary)
Updates ongoing....
Japanese originals on the official channel can be found at the link below
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