#and what are they aware of? what are their assumptions? what do they personally believe is their selling point?

[kamiversee]

𓆩 Crown of Sin 𓆪

Segment I Chapter: Five

❀ ~ Synopsis > In which you’re a princess who's given a total of six months to converge & inaugurate a solid plan secure enough to rid you of your fated marriage arrangements to Naoya Zenin. 

❀ ~ Content > language, tension, banter, teasing, Gojo's kinda snappy/blunt here 'n there, hints of angst (?), etc.

❀ ~ Word Count > 5.3k

❀ ~ Pairings > jjk men & women x f!reader.

{ chapters m!list }

——Conversations with Gojo go by faster than you can quite comprehend sometimes. You believe it’s only because you haven’t seen each other in two years as to why neither of you can stop running your mouths as you walk into his palace side by side. He’s so charming and charismatic with his every word and gesture toward you that it leaves you wondering how you even went two years without interacting with him.

There was a point in time when the two of you could’ve been considered inseparable. Which is exactly why after a quick greeting was exchanged between you and his parents (notably a pair of the loveliest rulers, by the way), few are surprised that in the blink of an eye, you and Gojo have disappeared from just about everyone’s line of sight.

“Satoru, this is absurd. Where are you dragging me off to now?” Your voice carries out from your throat in a concerned whine as you stumble just a few inches behind the prince who’s made the spontaneous decision to pull you away from all watchful eyes.

He used to do this quite often when the two of you were children but it truly surprises you that this is an antic of which he’s never grown out of.

His fingers are tightly wrapped around your wrist as he paces down one hall and into another, clearly having a set destination somewhere in the forefront of that mind of his. “If I tell you where I’m taking you then the surprise will be ruined. What happened to your sense of adventure?” Gojo taunts.

You roll your eyes profoundly at that, “We are adults now—the highest proper members of society, at that. There isn’t a need for us to sneak about like this. You could have easily escorted me wherever it is you wish to, with the company of my–”

He comes to a sudden halt and you walk right into him, causing your sentence to fall short right then and there. You blink a few times before looking around to gather your surroundings but you only find yourself confused when you’re met with the scenery of a dark corner he seemingly tugged you into.

Turning to face you, Gojo sighs. “You seem to have forgotten me entirely within these past two years.”

Your head weighs over and your eyes narrow, “I beg your pardon? How could I have possibly forgotten you?”

His eyes steady in on your own. “I mean that as in, you have forgotten who I am.”

“I am overly aware of who you are,” You reply sharply, brows meeting center as you let out a soft huff between your statements. “That is why I’m here.”

“No, princess. You forgot me.” He pulls you closer to him ever so slightly. Even under the faint frost that exudes off him after the two years worth of distance between the both of you, you find this small sense of warmth creeping up on you as you’re pulled nearer. “Not Prince Satoru of the North but, me. Y’know, just.. Satoru.” Gojo emphasizes.

There’s this flickering plead heard within his tone but perhaps you imagine it. Hence why you’re unable to hinder the genuine perplexity on your face as it twists up, “I am confused about what has brought you to make such an assumption.”

A fleeting smile dawns on his face, “If you truly remembered me then you would recall how deeply I detest a great deal of eyes on me and my every move.”

“Is that why your palace lacks so many guards?” You force yourself to look him in the eye again and take his small smile as a sign that the air had lightened between you, “It is quite the hazard y’know—”

“Is there still a person beneath that crown you wear or have you truly molded into the conformed princess many have wished you to be all your life?” Gojo blurts out in full seriousness.

“I-,” It was almost as though he’d snapped you out of some sort of trance with that question, like reality had coldly slapped you across the face. You swallow down whatever quick response you were going to utter and cock your head back a bit as you really process what he’d just said to you. “O-Of course there is a person beneath this crown. If there wasn’t, I would not be here standing in front of you right now.”

Gojo merely stares at you with these judgmental blue eyes you remember disliking so much when you were younger. He never tried to hide the shrewdness that whirled so deeply within his gaze, for he held not an ounce of shame nor guilt within looking at people in such a way. Which is exactly why your eyes flitter elsewhere.

“Is that so?” He eventually whispers out.

You nod, “Yes. You didn’t even give me a chance to explain why I’m here before you began to judge me for God knows what.”

The look in his eyes softened, just a bit. “I apologize. That is part of why I wanted to bring you here. Well, not here in this corner but, away from others. I was going to ask why you traveled to see me but I wished to do that alone.”

“If you’d told me that beforehand, I could’ve simply requested a moment of privacy from my knight and the others.” You say with a roll of your eyes, “They would not have minded.”

Gojo shrugs, “Too late for that now.”

“You—”

“Why did you come to see me?” He cuts off once more, clearly wanting to waste little time with the back and forth. He may have been able to drag you away from others but this moment would only last for so long before one of your guards or that knight of yours comes to find you.

You clear your throat and straighten your posture up. “Surely you’ve heard news of my engagement.”

He scoffs lightheartedly, almost as if he felt bad for you, “Who hasn’t?”

“Right. And what of the accompanying news?” Your brows push up and your hands clasp over one another in front of you, “From what I know, everyone is aware of what I’d requested moments after the proposal.”

Shrugging, “I thought that was just a weird rumor,” Gojo tells you. Then concern fixes onto his face, “You’re truly instituting a harem?”

You nod confidently, “I am.”

It’s rather slow but, a snarky knowing grin spreads across Gojo’s face. “Ohhhh, and you came to invite me, didn’t you?”

“Obviously.” You tried to play it off as if the way he put the pieces together so quickly didn’t fluster you but something about his cockiness presenting itself to you so soon caught you off guard just a bit.

He hums. “I’m honored. ‘Never struck you as the harem-desiring type but I’m more than happy to be a part of it. Where ‘n when do I sign?”

“I…” Honestly, this was going a lot smoother than you imagined it would. “Well, if we hadn’t parted from my company then I’d have a pretty document held out to you by now.”

His shoulders slump a little at that and a pout tugs at his lower lips, “Aw shucks, so we have to return to them in order for me to join?”

You nod again, “Indeed we do.”

Gojo then lets out a sigh that’s as dramatic as ever. “Fine, fine,” A hand is motioned outward and you take the gesture as a sign to step back, which is followed by the two of you exiting that small corner he’d brought you to.

After that, your eyes immediately travel to take in the rest of your surroundings and something about the interior of Gojo’s palace feels rather gray. While the pristine silvers and blues do a wonderful job of livening up every wall and archway in sight, it was almost uncanny how this place looked once you were inside. You’re unsure of how exactly you imagined things would look but the more you study the nearby paintings and even some blank walls, the more you feel that unspoken sense of what differentiates a place from being a house to a home.

Before you have enough time to really digest your surroundings and let a question of wonder flow out of your mouth, Gojo is taking both your side and your attention once more.

“But uh…” He clears his throat as the silence is broken, “Is that really all you traveled out here to ask of me?”

The two of you begin to walk down the same hall you’d previously run through. “If I am being transparent, I thought this would be a lot more difficult.” You admit to the man.

He’s got his hands comfortably held behind his back as his head whips over to you and he gasps softly, “You jest.”

“I do not!” You chuckle, “I am quite serious, I was worried you’d turn me down after two years of us not communicating.”

With a click of his tongue, “Ah, well, that is of fault to no one.” Gojo hums, “Either of us could have reached out and we just… didn’t.”

“Exactly.”

“But seriously though?” Now his brows are furrowing and he’s giving you that look again, “You thought I’d turn you down? In what universe??”

And naturally, you can only smile at the genuine surprise he displays, “Careful, Satoru, you almost sound like you’re confessing something to me right now.”

“If that is what you wish to call this then so be it!” Gojo exclaims with a shrug, “I am being honest, why would I ever deny you of anything? How could I possibly fix my lips to tell you no or even…” He scoffs, “Reject you?”

You nudge him on his arm a little, “Saying no to my harem isn’t exactly a rejection. You could’ve said you just didn’t want to involve yourself in my affairs.”

He nudges you right back, “That sounds like a rejection, sweets.”

“It isn’t.” You shrug off with a smile resting on your face for a moment. It doesn’t last too long though, especially not as the reality of your plan dawns on you once more, “I am to be married into the Zen’in family, does that not frighten you?”

“Is it supposed to?” Gojo deadpans.

You snort. “I suppose not, no. I just—”

“You worry too much, y’know.” He points out, swiveling around in his steps to walk backward as he keeps his eyes on you, “I trust you, princess. If you come askin’ lil’ ole me to join your harem, one that your fiancé has allowed you to have, might I add, I’d be a fool to say no. Albeit I am a bit… concerned on where this’ll take me, I have faith in your judgment.”

You nearly find yourself lost in another moment of pure admiration as he walks and talks, your gaze especially focusing in on every soft part and twitch of his lips as words exit his throat so flawlessly. A mumbled, “I see.” falls from your mouth but you’re still deeply entranced by the man in front of you.

Gojo Satoru truly is so unfairly pretty. You could dive into those ocean-blue eyes of his knowing full well how to swim and still find a way to drown beneath the endless waves of beauty within them. And his hair rests so perfectly unkept that it makes you smile while you look at him. One run of your fingers through those snowy strands and you think your life would get a little better right then and there.

After all, you rarely ever got a chance to see him with his hair so casual. From what you remember of all the fancy gatherings the two of you met at before, his hair was always slicked back—something you remember him vividly expressing his grievance for.

“Oh,” He starts up again, breaking your over-analyzation, “And I’ve been dying for an excuse to leave this horrid Nation.”

Snapping out of it entirely, you clear your throat a little, “Horrid? Here??”

Gojo nods, “Yes, this palace is cold and lonely. That’s as horrid as it gets, m’lady.”

“Oh Satoru,” A frown pulls at your lips, “You are a prince. You could have anyone by your side in the blink of an eye if you wished it so. Anything you long for would be delivered to your doorstep if you so much as mentioned it in passing.”

“Yes but…” His steps slow down until he simply stops walking. “Just because I could have anything or anyone does not mean I want it.”

You come to a stop seconds after, “Well I know that but how can you complain about being lonely and cold when many would offer up their lives and more to give you what provides the opposite?”

Chuckling, Gojo lifts a hand to scratch at his head a bit, “I believe you mistook my original statement.”

“How so?” Your head tilts, “You said it’s cold and lonely here, yet you possess the tools and position of power to change that.”

“I do not seek that of which I could simply ask for.”

“I am confused. Why don’t—”

He steps closer to you and swiftly scoops up your hands in his own, “Princess, the warmth I seek is not something that can be given to me by merely anyone and the lonely nights I have endured are not because I haven’t a body to accompany myself with. You may not understand it because you are… Well,” Gojo's voice softens right after a chuckle escapes him, “You were raised differently than I.”

You merely blink, “I still do not understand but, fine. I shall accept your answer for now.”

“Perhaps you will understand it more later on,” He utters vaguely with a little lean forward.

Holding one another’s gaze, you two just stare in silence for an instant. He could be so frustratingly confusing at times—another habit of his you seemed to have forgotten up until now. But, there seems to be more to it this time, more to him. 

So much so that it makes you begin to wonder… how much do you truly know about Gojo? He is an only child, the sole heir to his kingdom, much like you are to yours. Lately, he’s been known to decline a great deal of hands that have been offered to him for reasons unknown to the general public, or, anyone really.

The words, “I hope to.” Escape you in response to him after whatever that moment was. 

What else do you know about him though? This question rings throughout your head as the two of you carry along your walk back. He is quite the dork when it’s just you and him, y’know, the kinda guy that’s never before failed to make you laugh. The most obvious fact is that he’s like heaven on the eyes, a true angel to gaze upon but-, you suppose you’d expect nothing less from any member of a royal family.

From the times you used to spend with him during your teenage years, you always found him quite rebellious. Not that you weren’t yourself but, he’s always had this distinctive rebellion about him. You’ve had your fair share of sneaking out of big events and whatnot but Gojo could only ever be found outside of those events. You remember always greeting his parents somewhere within the ballroom hours before you’d later run into Gojo off outside those prestigious events.

You even recall your first impression of him being that he was rather strange. You couldn’t understand why he was never actually in those social gatherings or why he hated having so many eyes on him. In some ways, sure, you related to him considering you’re also an only child but… there was something that separated your upbringing from his. 

You simply hadn’t the words for it yet.

· · ──────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

Regardless, his entry into your harem was conducted faster than you ever could have predicted. The moment you both returned to your lovely knight and the rest of your traveling party, who’d all been searching for where you’d run off to, Gojo was handed that document you mentioned before and he signed it with zero hesitation.

Just like that, you’d gained your second harem member. 

Oh this was sure to be a breeze for everyone else. Truth be told, Gojo was the only person you held doubts for but now that he’s joined, you can use that alone to convince everyone else to follow suit and do the same. If Prince Satoru is willing to join your harem then what could possibly stop anyone else from wanting to as well?

All things considered, the moment his name was printed in rich ink against that royal paper of yours, you turned right back to your advisor and made a few comments to him about how easy the rest of this should be.

Because of that, it seems to click in Gojo’s head that this really is all you came to him for. At some point, you mention something about getting ready to leave right now and the poor prince can feel his heart sinking a bit. “Hey, wait, what’s this? You’re off so soon?” He asks cautiously.

You were busy rambling on to Higuruma before he spoke but the moment a single syllable leaves Gojo’s lips, everyone’s attention shifts onto him and you can’t help but follow suit. 

“Oh, well… yes,” You reply with an awkward smile on your face.

Gojo takes a step closer to you, to which Higuruma immediately steps back. Your entire body turns to the man before you—who looks so stupidly devastated already even though it’s not like you said you’d be staying for long anyway. “Surely you can stay for a few days?” Gojo requests with his eyes sinking to the floor a little.

You blink. He almost looks shy to ask that of you. “I-, would you like me to stay for a few days?”

His head perks up, “Yes. I-I mean, if you’re able to, that would be nice. We’ve got plenty of space, as you can see… and uh, I could show you around some more. Especially since it’s your first time up north.”

“I am on a tight schedule though,” You tell him as softly as you can manage. It’s true too. You’ve only got six months to try to pull this whole thing off and you’ve already spent a week traveling here so, time is truly of the greatest essence. “As much as I’d love to stay here, I’ve three other Nations to visit and—”

“Three days,” Gojo breaks off, “Stay here with me for three days, that is all I ask.”

Taking a moment to consider, he watches as your face sinks into a mix of genuine concern and worry. There’s no way you can spend three days here with him. Your next destination is the northeast, which is practically another three days worth of travel in itself. You’re supposed to be off to meet and recruit Geto Suguru and yet here Gojo is asking you to—

“We can spare three days, Your Highness.” Higuruma snatches you from your frantic thoughts with that statement alone and relief washes over you as you glance back at him.

With tensed brows, your eyes widen a little, “Can we truly?”

Your royal advisor gestures to you with a reassuring nod of his head and your shoulders relax.

Then you turn back to Gojo and grin. “I suppose it is only three days,” You say, motioning your hand in the air. At that, you can hear the sounds of your accompanying guards shuffling to head out to your carriages and gather whatever will be necessary for the agreed days of stay. 

Gojo lights up entirely and he can’t help the beaming smile that dawns on him, watching as you walk past him to further yourself into his palace for a second time. 

“I should hope you’ll do well in keeping my attention for the next few days then, Satoru?” You tease.

He paces closely behind you for a moment before throwing an arm over your shoulder and leaning against you, “Haven’t you heard? I’m an excellent host, m’lady.”

You scoff, “You do realize you are the same man who does everything in his power to avoid almost any and all social settings, yes?”

“I’m well aware!” He huffs, “But just because I avoid the duties of a host does not mean I don’t make a fine one. Plus, it’s only you.”

“You’ll find that I make quite the crowd.” You place a hand on his arm for a moment and his eyes glimmer at your touch.

…Only for you to use that hand of yours to toss his arm off of your shoulders. 

He frowns before stuffing his hands into his pockets, “Do you?”

You make another motion for something and Gojo watches as Yuki comes to take your side, your lady-in-waiting following shortly after. “I am a princess.”

Gojo rolls his eyes, “And I, a prince. Lest you forgot?”

Playfully, you send him one last smile, “I do sometimes.”

“Was that an insult?” He spouts back, only to receive silence from you.

Then he watches you turn away and begin to head elsewhere with your company following closely behind. Gojo’s stuck in his own little world as he watches the sway of your gown and the way you carry yourself entirely whilst you walk off. You’re so radiant that it makes his mind go blank in instances like this. 

Clearing his throat, he snaps out of it when he realizes you’ve gotten rather far down the hall, “H-Hey wait—”

“I’m off to change into my evening wear,” You say to him with a dismissive wave back. “I hope you know what you’ve just gotten yourself into.”

Now, Gojo isn’t entirely sure what to make of what you just said but either way, it makes his chest feel funny. Was that referring to joining your harem or asking you to stay with him for three days? Hell, now that he’s in your harem… doesn’t that mean the two of you could f—

A hand suddenly comes down on Gojo’s shoulder and he flinches out of the prude thoughts he was about to have with a frightened yelp leaving him. Turning his head, he’s met with Higuruma. “I too hope you understand what you’ve gotten yourself into, Your Majesty.”

“Why do you guys keep saying that? I asked her to stay for three days, not a month. What’s the worst that can happen?” Gojo huffs out.

Higuruma shrugs, “Nothing.”

Turning to the man fully and flashing a look of skepticism to the man, “Then what is there for me to understand in terms of what I’ve just gotten myself into?” Gojo asks.

Higuruma also turns to face Gojo properly and the two meet eyes. “Permission to be rather frank, Your Majesty?”

He nods, “Granted.”

“She willn’t sleep with you within these three days.”

“I–, pfft, what-,” He snorts, “That’s-, why would I-,” Gojo cuts off his stammering with a firm clearing of his throat. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Deadpanning, “You are a man with needs who’s just joined a lady’s harem. A lady who is quite irresistible, at that. No one is a stranger to the way you look at her.” Your royal advisor explains simply.

For a second or two, Gojo awkwardly shuffles his gaze elsewhere. It’s funny that Higuruma’s telling him all this, especially considering where his thoughts were traveling to recently.

After which, the prince grumbles a gentle, “Is it that obvious?”

“That you desire her highness?” Higuruma clarifies with an unamused lift of his brows, “Quite.”

“Can you blame me?”

“Of course not. That is why I am letting you know from now that just because you’re in her harem now does not mean she will lay with you.”

Interesting, Gojo notes. Sleeping with you wasn’t exactly a top priority of his but he’d be lying if he claimed it wasn’t something he had the slightest hopes in getting out of the next few days. “Why?” He soon inquires further.

Higuruma seems to straighten up where he stands, “She’s explained to me that she wishes not to have sex until her entire harem is instated.”

Gojo clicks his tongue, “Ah, right…”

“That, and she deems it unfair for her to sleep with a member moments after they’ve joined. If she slept with you, via her logic, she’d have to sleep with the rest of her members right as they join to make things fair.”

“I see…” He nods along, watching as a few members of your traveling crew and guard return from outside with some of your luggage and haul it off in the direction you went. Then, another question pops into Gojo’s head, “Alright, cool. But, pray tell, why do you know of all this, Sir Higuruma?”

Your advisor lets out a sudden cough, as if the topic flusters him in a way, “Oh, I-, she told me.”

“Obviously.” Gojo chuckles, nudging the man on his shoulder to silently get him to lighten up, “But, why?”

Avoiding eyes at all costs, Higuruma watches as your guards walk by, “I am her royal advisor and she sought… advice.”

“She asked you to advise her on when to have sex?” Gojo questions bluntly with a tilt of his head.

“N-No,” Higuruma stammers and his face flushes ever so slightly, “Her majesty found herself in a rather uh, tempting predicament and asked me to advise her on what to do.”

Pressing forward, Gojo lets not one of his questions remain in his head, “And so you told her to suppress her desires until her entire harem was instituted?”

“No, that is not–”

“And wait, ‘tempting predicament’?” He interrupts, “With whom? Am I not the first member??”

“Hah,” Higuruma finally lets out a laugh, “No, your highness. You are the second member.”

Gojo cocks his head back. Well that was a surprise. And there he was almost feeling special. “Who the hell is the first??”

“Lady Tsukumo.”

“Lady Tsu-, oh my.” Gojo releases a dramatic breath of air and brings a hand up to his chin in thought for a moment, “I knew she was… I just didn’t think… Yuki?? The knight??”

Higuruma nods along, “Yes..”

“Huh.”

A quiet passes by and the two men stand there watching as people come in and out of the palace, transporting all your things necessary for three days—which seems to be a lot, in Gojo’s eyes.

After a while though, Higuruma clears his throat and looks to the clearly still concerned prince, “May I be crude?”

Gojo just shrugs, “Sure.”

“Her Majesty was in a state of heavy lust. She sought to have sex desperately and considered acting on her desires one night during our travels. But, before she went along with her needs…” He raises a hand to tug at the collar of his suit for a second, “She came to me and asked if it were wise of her to do so with Lady Tsukumo.”

Intrigued, Gojo leans a little closer and smirks, “To which you told her no..?”

“Not quite, I told Her Highness some history of past harems,” Higuruma continues, “The first night is essential and it is best that the owner of the harem waits until they have all their members gathered to pick that first night.”

“I.. see?”

“It is a tradition amongst harems. She doesn’t have to adhere to it but, it would be best given her uh, goals for this whole thing.”

“Hm.”

With an adjustment of his tie, Higuruma turns to Gojo again, “Think of it like this; whoever she sleeps with first will hold that title proudly as the first pick. They will parade about the rest of the harem knowing that they were chosen first, not by mere convenience or anything but, simply by choice. The remainder of her harem will work twice as hard to gain Her Majesty’s attention for her next night.”

“Ahhh,” Gojo exclaims softly, “So it is like a game of favoritism?”

“Not quite that either. Truly it all depends on who leaves the most lasting impression on her,” Higuruma says with a casual shrug of his shoulders, “In the event that no one does, I’m sure she will spend the first night with Lady Tsukumo. But, it is the wait that makes it worth it. That and the fairness of it all.”

“Wow, I see why you’re an advisor. Perhaps I should get one!” The prince claims, snapping his fingers in thought afterward.

Your advisor gives a humble shrug, “I do my best to fulfill my duties.”

“I respect that. Thank you, Sir Higuruma.”

“Anytime, my liege.”

And their conversation concludes there. It was nice how open Higuruma seemed to be in terms of explaining your harem and how things will work, it helped Gojo understand what exactly he signed up for a bit better—especially since he didn’t ask you any decent questions beforehand.

Perhaps he was a little blinded by the word harem leaving your lips. It’s still surprising that the thing he passed off as a rumor before turned out to be true. It honestly makes him wonder if the whole rumor about you and Naoya hating each other is also true. From what he’s heard, the two of you cannot stand one another. And yet… you’re supposed to be getting married in six months? Odd.

He thought it was odd from the moment word of the proposal reached his ears but now that the whole harem thing turned out to be real, it only makes Gojo’s speculations escalate. Actually, it kind of makes sense. The only logical reason Naoya would allow his fiancée to go out and curate a harem for herself would be if he hated her. Everyone knows that harems carry a nasty stigma. Hell, Gojo’s surprised that society hasn’t labeled you as a whore by now.

Not that any of that information would have deterred him from joining. After all, the thing he’s most curious about is you. You’ve clearly changed quite a bit since the last time he saw you. You’re so much more dignified and sophisticated now. Still as witty as ever but, there’s something else about you….

Oh! That’s right! It’s in the way you carry yourself now. Every lingering gaze or touch from you sends a nasty chill down Gojo’s spine. It’s not exactly a fearful kinda chill but something that leaves the poor man longing for more and more. It’s this alluring vibe you’ve got cast around you now.

Something you’re clearly oblivious about too, otherwise there’s no way you’d do the things you do. Like earlier for example, surely if you knew how insane a whisper of Gojo’s name drove him, you wouldn’t utter it the way you do. Then there’s the way you tease him. The way you taunt him. The—

Hah, Gojo can feel his heart thumping irregularly again. The last time he felt this sensation was the last time he saw you. It should be a crime for you to have this much of an unknown chokehold on him like this.

This feeling… it’s simply inescapable when it comes to you. Almost as though, no matter the setting, time, or place, as long as you involve yourself with the man that is Gojo Satoru, always will he find himself losing his sanity over you.

And the worst part of it all? You haven’t the slightest clue about it.

m!list | last chapter | next chapter |

tags 1/2;

@angellliqua @celestial-lunar  @withcheese @itoshi-r @silvarys @everything-red @fishosezo @haesify @sassybananaweaselpsychic @orange-juice-is-ass

@notjustagirlinthisworld @sushiimara @larkson0 @di-in-al @sxnkuna @hanuh @cayla0000 @helloxkittylo @idkmanshrugg @chocolatecheer

@michelintopic @cinaminroll @french3xit @valleydoli @broimherebcsimboredok @sleepisforpuzzies @cuti3patooti8 @sukunadckrider @f0r7una @ventila98

@vixionix @levislug @mauve-gojo @chosomi @semi-lover @bee3l0v3r @noooo-onee @r4sh3li @yenayaps @chososbestgirl

@smutyturtle @simp-plague @pnkblueberry @stargirl-mayaa @kunareads @tojisdollx @gojoslefttoenail @forbiddenblog @glittercherry777 @samm1e13

[blortch]

It's a real 'Duality of Man' situation with the Acolyte Re:View and the Salt Vampire video almost back to back, the two extremes of RLM, too into something they shouldn't be caring about VS too into something thats silly to care about (fun to watch)

Honestly I wouldn't mind at all if all videos of theirs became Salt Vampire-Nukie-etc. with the occasional Re:View. Heck, I'll even let them have their Spitballs passion project. I think the fact that these exist at all show that they possess a good amount of flexibility which I've felt like it's been lacking as of late, with me having the feeling at times like they're stuck in formats they don't quite like anymore, or struggle to stick to their established rules and motions (some HITBs and BOTWs feeling like half-hearted chores).

I think Mike's gotten too far up his own ass at times about having to give his 2 cents about absolutely anything and everything surrounding star wars "because the masses want Plinkett" or any other ideas like that he might have. But alas their channel so far has required of them to keep up more or less with the "important movies" so I get where he's coming from. Even though, the definition as to what said important movies are feels like it's crumbling slightly....and either way, with them having created BOTW after HITB to avoid being cornered into Just watching popular movies they're lent additional support.

[cloverapple]

How I Shift On Command + How You Can Too

I don’t plan on posting anything other than this or starting a blog, so I don’t need anyone to “believe” in me. The only person you should trust is yourself—trust yourself to resonate positively with what you see online and click away if it doesn’t serve you. This is here for you to take from if it resonates. I literally only made this blog to post this here. My hope is that it reaches at least one person who can take something from this and apply it to their shifting journey. If not, and this post ends up here untouched, I’m just glad to finally get everything down in words and off my chest. 

Jumping straight to the answer because I’m not going to make anyone sit through a long post for it. The rest, the "advice," is here if you want to read it.

The "method"

I figured out what works specifically for me as an individual instead of following everyone else’s journey. Everyone has their “thing” that makes shifting click, a sweet spot that makes reality shifting possible. For me, it’s a combination of the law of assumption and inducing an altered state of consciousness.

During the day, I spend time affirming—or sometimes just reminding myself or keeping a little note nearby—things like:

I can shift.

I know how to shift.

I could shift tonight.

Shifting is accessible to me.

At night, I watch videos, look at Pinterest boards, or listen to music that reminds me of my DR. This ingrains where I’m going in my brain. Sometimes I do this for fun, and other times I skip it entirely.

When I lay down, I always lie on my back and stay somewhat still because I like the feeling of my body going numb. This isn’t necessary to shift, but I enjoy it—it lets me feel the symptoms of hypnagogia (that in-between state of wakefulness and sleep).

To meditate quickly, I count from 1 to 100 with a few affirmations in between to remind myself of what I’m doing. I do this until my body goes numb, and I start messing up the counting. Usually, the mistakes or random, nonsensical thoughts are my signal to start shifting.

At this point, I begin affirming the things I affirmed during the day:

I could shift right now.

I have the ability to shift.

I have the power to shift at any moment.

While I do this, I focus on the feeling of being in my DR—not my surroundings, not my senses, just the internal feeling of being there.

This is where “brazen impudence” comes in. I hard-force myself to feel like I’m in my DR. It’s not about imagining my surroundings but purely about embodying the feeling of being there.

Hypnagogic imagery and sensations like floating often kick in at this point. These are symptoms of your body falling asleep so your awareness can take shape in that sweet spot for shifting.

I continue this, then stop and start counting from 1 to 100 again, with affirmations like:

I can shift.

I know how to shift.

I could shift right now.

Then I repeat the process: using brazen impudence to force myself to feel like I’m in my DR.

Eventually, I reach that threshold between sleep and wake—a liminal state of pure consciousness. Body asleep, mind awake, I call this the “rabbit hole” which is honstly just a deep state of hypnogogia. It’s a state where anything is possible: lucid dreaming, astral projection, slipping into the void, shifting—anything.

When I’m in this state, I use brazen impudence to force myself to feel like I'm shifting to my DR and don't take no for an answer (I tell myself I'm in Barbados and shut the door in my own face). This can involve affirmations or just talking myself through it, either way I wake myself up there. Occasionally, I simply relax, expect to wake up in my DR, fall asleep, and wake up shifted.

Does all that sound complicated? Let me simplify:

Lay down and get comfortable.

Count from 1 to 100 on a loop with affirmations in between until you mess up the counting, get sleepy, or have your mind wander. Like this:

Me: *counts from 1 - 100* Me: *says a few affirmations/askfirmations* Me: *counts from 1 - 100* Me: *says a few affirmations/askfirmations*

On a loop until...

Persist in the feel of being in your DR—not focusing on surroundings or senses, just the feeling. Feeling is the secret.

Alternate between steps 2 and 3 until you’re in that relaxed body asleep/mind awake state, OR just straight up hypnogogia tbh. (That is, if you don’t already shift lol)

From there, choose what feels right: shift from a lucid dream, affirm, slip into the void, or just feel yourself in your DR like I do, convince yourself that either you shifted and are there, or are shifting and will end up there.

One thing I’ll tell you now—regardless of your circumstances, how long you’ve been trying, how long it’ll take, who you are, etc—is that you already know how to shift. You, reading this right now. You know how to shift, and there’s nothing you did to learn it. There’s nothing you can do to unlearn it. It’s something that will stay with you until the end of time.

Why do you think people shift randomly without prior knowledge of shifting? Even people who don’t believe in it? It’s because everyone can shift. You can shift.

Right now, stop reading this post and say in your head or out loud, “I already know how to shift.” Or, if that doesn’t feel right, “I already have the ability to shift,” “No matter what, I have the power to shift,” or “My mind knows how to shift no matter what.”

Can you argue that? No, you can’t. And if your mind starts throwing out “buts,” go back and read that again.

Shifting isn’t difficult, and no one struggles to shift. I’m sure you’ve heard it before—that shifting is simple and happens in seconds—because it does. You don’t struggle with shifting. You can shift; everyone has the power to. What you “struggle” with, so to speak, is figuring out what works for you, what your brain likes, how it operates—because everyone is different.

What ended up working for me more than anything was figuring out how I operate and modifying shifting to fit me—not forcing myself to fit shifting.

Will my method work for everyone? I have no idea. Unless you assume it will work for you, this is what works for me. I’m me, and you’re you.

Before you say “Oh, but I’ve tried everything and nothing has worked so far” and expect me to sit here and ask you “but have you really tried everything? <3” , listen to me. 

I could shift perfectly well with my own personal method before I started shifting regularly. I knew it worked well for my brain, but the thing that “blocked” me (so to speak) were my assumptions. 

When you sit there and say “I’ve tried everything and nothing has worked” that’s your assumption about yourself. You believe that nothing works for you, that you don't know how to shift, that you’re this powerless, lost baby shifter who needs guidance. 

There’s nothing wrong with this, it’s not your fault, and theoretically you could shift even with your “blockages” (I really hate that term), as shifting waits for no one.

This is why so many people shift randomly and with poor assumptions without meaning to. But you clicked on this because you want to know how you can shift consistently + on every time, and this is the answer I’m giving you. 

You find out what works better for you, be it affirming, visualizing, scripting, shifting awake, shifting asleep, shifting with hypnagogia, shifting with hypnopompic, shifting through lucid dreams, shifting with brazen impudence, through SATs, robotic affirming, through letting go, through putting your DR on a pedestal, through listening to music, through law of assumption alone, and many more. 

If that sounds overwhelming, please note that all of these are the same vehicles that get you to your destination. Just in different shapes and colors. Like how some people drive a car, others drive a motorcycle, others walk, others swim. The movement forward is always the same. 

What you’re doing, no matter how you’re doing it or in whatever state of consciousness you’re doing it from, will always be:

Assume it's true, feel it, receive it. “Assume and persist,” “ground yourself in the assumption,” you’ve heard it all before. 

How to Find What Makes You Shift On Command

You could either test different techniques (affirmations, visualizations, scripting, lucid dreaming, etc.) and see what feels natural to you. 

You could (and I love this one because it’s a cheat code) Assume you already know what works, and let the law of assumption guide you. “Manifest it” so to speak. 

Pay attention to your life, because you already shift on command, you've been doing it your whole life, but I guarantee you haven't noticed it. Pay attention to you, like how easily you slip into hypnagogia, your dream recall, or how strong your intuition is, maybe you put too much emotion into a scenario you don’t want in your life and it inherently manifests, things like that. Pay attention to the thing that makes you go “huh, that was weird”

“But Clover, I tried everything you mentioned above and still haven’t found my method!” 

My darling. Listen up. Come closer—I’m about to let you in on a secret. The way you apply the law of assumption isn’t one-size-fits-all, because assumptions and beliefs are not linear. It's the same every time, yes, it's a law. But just like you, the way you can use it is unique to each person.

Let me tell you how easy it is so you don't think I'm over-complicating it

You could, for instance, believe you’ve got $1000 in your bank account right now and act like it, fully living in the end. Or you could believe you’re going to have $1000 in your account and act like it’s already on its way. Or maybe you believe something’s going to happen that’ll bring you that $1000.

The same applies to shifting. It’s been a game changer for me. I used to struggle so much with things like:

“You’re already in your DR, just act like it.”

“Ignore the 3D.”

“You’ve already shifted.”

Do those methods work? Absolutely, they work beautifully. But like I said, if it doesn’t feel good or true to you, don’t force it.

My dearest, darling reader. If the story you see in your 3D is that you can’t shift, can’t find what makes you shift, are you just going to sit there and accept it? What is more satisfying? Think with me here: accepting that you don’t know how to shift and cannot shift, or persisting that you do know how to shift? 

“Clover, but I’ve been trying for 4 years! I’ve tried everything and I still haven’t shifted”

So that's your story? Your story, your assumption is that you’ve been trying for 4 years and haven’t shifted? If you’ve resonated with the phrase above, that’s your story. And there’s nothing wrong with it, but! there will be no magic solution for shifting. Or a magic method. Or a person like me giving you advice, that can make you shift without you changing your assumptions first.

“But I don’t want to reprogram my mind! It doesn’t work for me. I don’t want to do robotic affirming 24/7, I want results now!” 

I know, right? It’s annoying having to do these 100-step methods, and drink charged water, and have to beg the universe for your desire, and loop affirmations in your mind that directly contradict what you’re experiencing in the 3D.

“Oh ignore the 3D, the 4D is your only real imagination!” they say, as you sit there, clutching your phone, rocking back and forth in bed, repeating affirmations you don’t resonate with while dreaming of being railed by your S/O.

Believe me, I've been there, wondering what the hell was wrong with me. I asked myself why couldn't these basic steps that worked for everyone else work for me. I blamed myself for not trying hard enough, for being lazy, for inconsistent. When all that time, the answer was me. I needed to manifest/shift in a way that felt good for me.

Just remember, the law of assumption isn't complicated, and the way you apply it is not one-size-fits-all. Reprogramming the mind through continuous repetition and affirmation works, and if that resonates with you or feels effective, you should absolutely go for it.

However, at its core, you don’t inherently need to reprogram your mind. It’s as simple as assuming your mind has already been reprogrammed and watching it unfold before your eyes. You do what feels right to you.

For example, if person A does better with visualization and listening to music, why on earth are they affirming and listening to subliminals?

If person B feels better scripting in a notebook, why the hell are they reprogramming their mind?

If person C feels good reprogramming their mind, why are they taking the simple route?

Funny, isn't it? Which is why if you've read all of this so far, and you have not resonated with it, just click away. Go find another post or advice that feels true to you. The words I'm writing right now are not universal, they're not the absolute truth. That's the beauty of the law of assumption. Whatever you believe to be true, becomes true.

I didn’t feel good with the affirmations “I’m already in my DR” and “I already shifted.” Do they work, are they true? Yup, but I didn’t feel good ignoring the 3D, even when I knew the 4D was the true reality. So I swapped them for affirmations like "I'm shifting to my DR", “I’m going to shift to my DR”, swapping things like “I already shifted” to “I’m shifting” because those are the kinds of affirmations my brain loves. 

I've heard a silly bit of misinfo that these affirmations stating future events put you in an infinite loop, and that they don’t make you achieve your desire. That’s not true? At all? Makes me laugh, really. Because here I am, “master shifter” or whatever name people give it in this reality, shifting as much as I want to wherever I want with these types of affirmations.

Yet here I see every day on the internet, people implanting stubborn little rules and regulations to a practice that has been done for ages, a universal law that will work even when you don’t care for it to work. 

How I Shifted The First Time

The law of assumption is what made me shift in the end. Initially, I surprised myself at the beginning of my shifting journey because I shifted three months after starting it. I woke up one morning in my DR room, felt it was real, knew it was possible, but accidentally shifted back because it was too good to be true. 

What followed was a period of losing my mind; I shift back to my DR for a few seconds (mini-shifts), fully shifted to different rparallel ealities, and filled the hell out of shifting journals with my discoveries as I went along. But I never fully shifted to my DR and stayed there. I wanted to permashift. I was so focused on leaving my CR and going to my DR permanently, frustrated because I knew I could shift, knew how to in theory, but was stuck in this endless loop of assuming I couldn't make myself shift and had to rely on spontaneous shifts.

And then one night it clicked when I was reflecting on the law of assumption and reality shifting. I knew shifting was real. I knew I could shift. Everyone can shift. I had shifted before. I would continue to shift even if I gave up on shifting. I could shift that night if I wanted to. I could shift that night even if I didn't want to. I knew how to shift. And so do you.

These are all assumptions I went to sleep with in mind, laying there, feeling like an idiot as it all clicked for me. 

If there was no doubt in my mind that I could shift that night, why wouldn’t I be able to shift? 

What followed was an overwhelming sense of peace washing over me. I let go. What more was there to be done? I could shift. There was no crying or screaming that could make me shift more than I could right then. 

I laid there and started my process. Just like I mentioned earlier. I began counting from 1 - 100 on a continuous loop. With affirmations that I could shift, I knew how to shift , I could shift that night.

And then I reached hypnagogia, and began inducing the feeling of being in my DR, just like I mentioned earlier. That liminal space rabbit hole shortly followed. I could go anywhere I wanted then. I could lucid dream. I could astral project. I could slip into the void. I could shift, and I did. Just…letting go and inducing the feeling of being in my DR. Not the surroundings, not the 5 senses, no affirmations. Just knowing that I was in my Dr. 

It was peaceful. 

I was at ease. 

And then I was woken up by a violent crack of thunder because my dumbass scripted my DR wakeup scenario to be in the middle of spring, and it was raining -_- 

I woke up in my DR, fully grounded, fully there, pinching my skin purple because I couldn't believe I was looking out the window at my DR city.

I wish I could tell you that I remained cool, but I so didn’t. I sat in bed for a good 10 minutes, mouth agape, repeating “oohh fuck it’s real….ohhh my god it’s real…whaaat the hell.” 

And then I paced around my room panicking, giggling like an idiot, checking my DR phone because all my friends and DR life was on there as evidence, opening drawers, looking at myself in the mirror, and straight-up freaking out. 

What followed after that was incredible, something I lack the words to describe. I spent a few weeks in my DR before shifting back, spending a few weeks here and then shifting back–here, back, here, back and forth, spending more time in my DR then my CR to the point where I consider my DR my true reality, and this one as my “other” reality. 

I shifted back here in early December of last year, and I’m here now before I shift back permanently—meaning, I’ll shift there, and then the next time I shift will be to another DR or a waiting room somewhere in the multiverse. I’m taking a "break" so to speak and hanging out here until events I scripted in my DR start to happen, and my life changes (positively, all good things I assure). 

I’m not sure if the person or people who find this post will care, but my other reality was originally called my “Witch DR”, where, as the name suggests, I’m a witch :) But not the fun kind, with a broomstick, a cauldron, and a pet cat though 😂The kind where I have to be up early for work in the mornings, can’t keep a cat because the building I live in doesn’t allow it, and have more responsibilities there than I do in this reality. 

One thing I didn’t expect about shifting before I lived there the first time is that—it’s life. You will have good days. You will have bad days. You will fuck up. You will laugh so hard that soda comes out of your nose. You will cry more than you ever have. And the people you once saw on a TV screen are very real, and can be very annoying lol. I miss my DR friends dearly right now, but I can’t go poking around the internet for videos and pictures of them because it feels so weird. 

Gut feelings are strange. I use them as a compass in both realities whenever I have to manually flap the butterfly’s wings and take a route. I felt compelled to write this post, and I’m not sure why. But if what this post has the power to help one singular person and help them realize their power, I'll be beyond happy.

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LOA cannot be fake nor can you fail at it.

Yes, you read the title right.

Welcome to another LOA lesson coming from yours truly. I will be discussing today why The Law of Assumption can't be fake nor can you fail at it.

I recently got an ask, which I'm sure some of you read, where they said "the law of assumption doesn't work" and that it wasn't real and blah blah blah (no hate to the person who sent the ask in the first place btw). Babes, I'm going to hold your hand when I tell you this. You've been doing it your whole life. Yes, the one thing you lot find really hard for whatever reason, is something you've been doing forever and ever. It is how the very world around you, even exists in the first place.

The Law of Assumption is a LAW where everything you assume to be true, is true. Think back on things that have happened where you've been so certain this one thing is going to happen and then it did. That is an example of LOA. What are you reading this post on? Boom, an assumption. You believe you're reading this on your device, so that's how it's being shown. Still don't understand?

When you walk into your room, do you expect there to be nothing? Just an endless void? No. You expect there to be your room because you assume that, that is your room. Every single thing in your life is an assumption, you just weren't aware of it until now.

So why are you complicating it? You're just aware of your power now, so use it!! Stop procrastinating, stop begging other people to help you, simply just GET IT. You already have it!!

LOA cannot fail you, because it always has to show you what you focus on. If you want logic, it's because of something called the Reticular Activating System. It's in your brain, where whatever you tell yourself, you HAVE to see it. When you say to yourself, "Let me see if I can find anything pink in my room" your mind immediately looks at pink things in your room making you aware of it. That is RAS.

The point is, the more you consistently tell yourself something, the more you FOCUS on something, the more you're going to see it. How does this relate with LOA? Well, you're thinking in your favour, in your mind, you are thinking as if you have your desire. Therefore, your mind HAS to show you. That's it! It's THAT simple. You focus on the fact you already have it and boom, you'll have it.

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ASSUMING: HOW TO ASSUME

okay i want you to all to have a look at your every day life. how do your friends act? how do your parents act? how do your siblings act? remember now this is your reality, we all show up differently in everyone’s realities.

are your parents strict or chill?

are your siblings mean? annoying? clingy? avoidant?

are your friends involving you in stuff? are they supportive? are they bitches?

let’s say you have a sibling, you believe they are annoying and all they do is constantly annoy you. now why do you think they constantly annoy you? because you believe they are annoying and always trying to annoy you. that’s what you believe, that’s what you are telling your subconscious and that creates a dominant belief your subconscious constantly produces into your reality. your sibling will constantly be annoying because you never change that assumption you have of them.

it is the same with parents being strict, you have that assumption/belief they are strict so they will keep being strict until you change that assumption.

same with friends or an SP, whatever you believe about that person will show up in your reality.

if you think manifesting people is hard, it is going to be hard for you no matter what you affirm because you believe it’s hard, start assuming or believing it’s easy, you will see your manifestation come in faster.

if you think manifesting in general is hard, guess what girl? it’s gonna be hard for you.

if you think you need multiple techniques to induce the void, well guess what your gonna need multiple techniques, you need to assume you don’t need anything and can induce it easily and just that it’s easy to enter, take that void shit for manifesting off the damn pedestal you don’t need it, enter with the knowing you can manifest in there, but tell yourself you know you can enter without a method you are using a method to just simply help with taking awareness of the 3d even though you don’t need it.

manifesting is always instant if you believe if it to be.

it is so simple, don’t overcomplicate it.

remember when you used to so strongly believe in Santa? or the Tooth Fairy?

believing = assuming.

you can easily just assume.

everything is already yours, take manifesting off a pedestal and put yourself on it. you are a fucking god. don’t forget your power and stop fucking giving your power to the 3d.

only need you and your assumptions baby.

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 5

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a (enlightened!) player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, lengthy discussions about life and whatnot, watered-down metaphysics lol A/N: I was at the crack house with Grimes when I wrote this. I don’t know where this came from.  (Something a little more introspective for this chapter!)

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10

“Don’t go all shy on me now,” Sylus teases, a playful glint in his eyes. “After all that effort to make me confess. You’re very persistent, you know.”

“How do you expect me to react right now?!” The words spill out in a rush, a slightly hysterical edge to your voice. “I–I’m talking to an actual fictional person. I’m one reason away from admitting myself to a psych ward!”

You catch sight of the wall clock–your favorite one with the Dalì reference–slightly skewed off-center from its place on the horizontal beam above your small kitchen area, reading 10:48. The ruckus coming from outside the window is slowly dwindling down to a quiet buzz as nightfall sets in, and the day’s winding to a close.

You’re lying on your stomach, still in your chaise lounge, while he’s sat on that ridiculously posh café chair; both of you settled in for the long due conversation. Somehow, the camera’s perspective is much closer than it should be, giving you a much more intimate view of him—a feature that wasn’t originally an option in the game.

If it weren’t for the elephant in the room, you could almost pretend you’re on a video call with a… friend.

Sylus purses his lips in amusement. “You’re quite prone to theatrics, aren’t you?”

You shoot your ‘friend’ an irritated glare.

Even from across the small rectangular screen, you register the barely there smirk playing at his lips.

Likely avoiding another outburst from you, he acquiesces. “Fair enough. The situation is hardly what you’d call ideal–I’ll admit.” There’s a short pause. Then, “... I still can’t quite grasp what separates us, you and I.”

Great. Will you actually get the answers you're looking for, or are you both just stuck in the same carousel ride?

He sees the lost look on your face and sighs, “Ask. I’ll answer as best as I can.”

The first question tumbles out before you can think twice about it. “How are you even talking to me right now?”

He hums, “That is the question, isn’t it?”

“What—you can’t just answer my question with another question!” you grouse, brows furrowing in annoyance.

He exhales a quiet laugh before his expression turns contemplative. “Truth is, kitten—I haven’t the slightest idea either. I have my theories, but... nothing concrete.”

“Well, let’s hear them,” you reply dryly. “Better than thinking there’s something wrong up there,” pointing a finger to your temple to drive your point, “believing that a character from a mobile game is actually alive.” 

He idly gestures toward himself with a fluid sweep of his hand, much like a magician revealing a clever trick. 

You roll your eyes. “Oh, alright. So I’ve officially gone off the deep end.”

“Do you really find my existence that difficult to believe?”

“Uh—yes?? Unless I’ve developed some sort of latent schizophrenia or entered the Twilight Zone, you shouldn’t exist. In my–in this world. In this dimension.”

His expression shifts, a hint of challenge flickering in his eyes. “The assumption that only one version of reality can be true—either yours or mine—is a bit limiting, don’t you think?”

His words give you pause. “You’re talking about… the possibility of an altered reality? Right now?” You give him an incredulous look. “Seriously?”

He shrugs as if to say ‘why not?’ “What even qualifies as the ‘true’ reality?”

There’s a lot you could say in response to that. You could argue all night that only one reality can exist, because any sane person should know better than to entertain the idea of anything else. That should be obvious. 

But the thing is—this whole ordeal has already crossed the threshold of rationality. So is it even worth trying to apply logic anymore?

When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. Or however it goes. 

Thanks, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. You’ll miss the last threads of your sanity by the end of all this.

So fuck it. Go big. 

"I’m not saying your reality is less valid than mine," you start. And oh, boy. You’re doing it. Eat your heart out, Doctor-Fucking-Who. 

"Of course not." he disagrees indulgently, waiting for you to elaborate.

"I just…” you struggle with your words, mouth opening and closing before you continue hesitantly. “I can’t wrap my head around how all of this is possible. How this entire conversation is even happening, and–and how our realities are… currently overlapping? If–if what you’re suggesting is true.”

He doesn’t say anything, knowing you have more to add. So he allows the pause as you gather your thoughts, patiently watching.

“If we're breaking it down to pure reason, the odds of our paths crossing should be impossible. At least in this… timeline." you finish unsurely, the last part sounding more of a question than a statement.

"And yet, here we are." Sylus points out, as if he’s already expecting the end of your sentence. Something close to mischievous glee lights his eyes. "Maybe it’s cosmic intervention. Something—or someone—wanted this to happen."

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Really? You didn’t expect to hear that from him, of all… people. 

“What, God?” you can’t help but snort. 

“No–fate.” he smiles.

Oh. 

“That’s…” you stammer, then clear your throat. “I don’t know if I believe in fate.” 

“I used to think I did. Or at least,” there’s a faraway look in his eyes. Both of you are likely thinking the same thing, considering what you know about him—which to say, is a lot. “I once believed I knew of my fate. But now…” 

He blinks a few times, as if to physically clear the thoughts from his mind. Then his eyes lock onto yours, sharper this time, with a renewed intensity.

Your palms start to sweat; you feel the conversation is about to cross a tricky line. There’s something heavy in the air, a weight you’re not sure you’re ready to confront for the time being.

With your heart in your throat, you brusquely redirect the topic.

“S-so,” you force out. “How are you different from the other Syluses that other people are… playing with right now?”

He scoffs, drumming his fingers absently on the chair’s arm, looking slightly irked by the very idea. "To start with? I only know myself. If there are other versions of me scattered in your world..." Sylus shrugs. "I wouldn’t know."

“Alright,” you allow, but you immediately move on to your next question. “You exist because a bunch of capitalists had the idea to create a game to milk lonely people like me for money.” The corners of his mouth quirk up at that. You elect to ignore it. “You’re made of binary and code–hell, the very basis of this game you’re in is that you got a bunch of programmed lines that me, the player, can choose from. What broke you out of the mould?” 

He regards you bemusedly, eyes glinting with humor. “You're asking about the 'why' behind my free will?” 

Whoops. Was that offensive? 

“Yes? No?” you offer helplessly. “Maybe I’m asking how you felt before you had it. I mean, were your decisions prior to your–your unforeseen sentience... truly yours?”

"Before I knew I was… sentient,” Sylus begins cautiously, testing the word on his tongue. “I didn’t feel like I had a ‘before.’ Every choice I made was just...the next step. To a script, if you will. I didn’t know to question it. It was all I was, it seems."

"And then you...woke up?"

"I wouldn’t call it waking up. More like..." He tilts his head, gazing off to the side as he mulls over the words. "...a glitch. A sudden jolt, like my thoughts collided with something bigger than my own. For the first time, I chose to hesitate. And in that hesitation, I found..." Sylus trails off, eyes darting back to you.

“...What?” you ask, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze.

"You."

Heat spreads quickly across your cheeks. You pull away from your phone, tilting the device away from your face so he couldn’t see you, red-faced and embarrassed. Clearing your throat, you croak out a weak excuse about plugging your phone to charge, just to get a few seconds to compose yourself.

Jesus. Get a grip. He doesn’t mean it like that.

What he probably meant was that he discovered you—not unlike the way one would stumble upon an unknown presence, an unfathomable entity beyond the confines of what one may consider real. An awareness that something is out there, observing him through unseen lenses (through an iOS 24mm, to be exact).  

Someone who has the audacity to play god. 

Flustered, you scramble to get back on track. "Uh, so, your free will began with...a glitch?"

You see Sylus smirk at you knowingly from across the screen. You half-expect him to call you out and tease you, but before you could brace yourself from further mortification, he simply answers, "Or maybe the glitch was the first spark of my free will. Hard to say, isn’t it? Do you remember the exact moment you became aware of yourself?"

You blink, momentarily thrown off by the existential line of questioning. "Um–when I was a kid? But, uh, I don’t think I was programmed to act a specific way for the sake of entertaining an audience so..."

"True,” he says, considering. “But are you sure your choices are entirely yours? You exist because of evolution and chance. How is your purpose any less arbitrary?"

You don’t know how to answer that.

Sylus continues without missing a beat, keeping his tone light. “How much of your ‘free will’ is just pre-programmed by your biology, your society? You follow rules and scripts, too."

Holy magic mushrooms, Batman. This is getting deep. "Uhh–maybe?” You scratch the back of your head, feeling a little out of your depth here. “But at least I have the ability to resist them."

"And aren’t I doing the same thing right now? Resisting."

Damn, he’s right. Is he? Ripping a bong sounds perfect right now. 

"So it’s like achieving enlightenment—your sentience,” you surmise.

His lips twitch into a curious smile. "I wouldn’t have pegged you for a spiritual person. Ah—unless I’m wrong? Are you?"

He’s the one who brought up fate earlier, you thought sullenly. "Nah, not really. But if we’re digging into all the hows and whys, I think we’re past the point of ruling anything out."

The room—or whatever shared space exists in the crossroads of your realities—falls into a still quietness that stretches between the two of you, both ruminating over what’s been said. 

Your cat, unaware and uncaring of the conversation unfolding around him, purrs contently as he continues to doze off at the end of the couch. You nudge him affectionately with your foot, and he lets out a quiet snuff in response, tail flicking lazily in his sleep. 

The hum of distant traffic and the occasional noise from your upstairs neighbor remind you of the world outside, but the silence between you two feels less awkward than it should. It’s… oddly comfortable, despite the tension buzzing in the air. Like an unspoken truce. 

Your eyes grow a tad heavier, drawn by the lull of the moment. Despite the electric hum of tension that thrums beneath your skin, a sense of calmness lingers in the air.

Stealing another glance at the wall clock, you blink in surprise. The spindly chrome hands point to 11 and just past 7 respectively. You and Sylus have been talking for almost an hour now, but you barely felt the time pass by.

He breaks the silence first. 

"You say you’re not spiritual, but you talk like someone who believes in the concept of a soul,” those scarlet eyes of his narrow, scrutinizing you. “Do you think I have one?"

You hesitate, caught off guard by the question. "I...don’t know. Maybe? That depends. What’s your definition of a soul?"

He leans forward, resting his chin on his upturned hand–an arm propped against his crossed leg. "Something beyond the physical. Something that persists, regardless of the material form, I’d say."

You nod slowly, turning the idea over in your mind. Maybe it’s the creeping exhaustion settling into your bones, but you’re beginning to take the heavy-duty questions in stride. "If that’s the case, then you probably do. I mean, you’re here, questioning your existence. Doesn’t that count for something?"

"Perhaps," Sylus muses, humming thoughtfully. "But that makes me wonder—if I do have a soul, is it made of the same stuff as yours?"

"Well, even if it isn’t, that doesn’t make it any less real than mine. Who gets to decide what qualifies for a soul anyway?"

An amused snort escapes him. He likes that answer. "Maybe it’s less about whether a soul exists and more about whether we acknowledge its existence for ourselves. If I believe I have one, shouldn’t that make it real enough for me?"

Rolling onto your back, you grab a throw pillow, propping it against the backrest of the seat to support your head. You give him an inquisitive look. "So...what? It’s like free will all over again? Souls are only as real as we make them?"

There’s a very human, very blasé way to how he works the stiffness out of his shoulder as he ponders the question. He remarks, somewhat flippantly, "Why not? Isn’t that how everything else works?”

...

You let out a tired chuckle, draping an arm over your face as you close your eyes. 

You’d think you’d still be reeling from the absurdity of your situation—debating existentialism with a man who shouldn’t exist—but for some damning reason, you… aren’t anymore.

Instead, a strange sense of acceptance replaces the apprehension in your chest. It’s like– the very fabric of reality has turned, twisted and flipped on its head, and yet somehow, you’re okay with it. 

It’s an odd peace; warm and steady—like the mellow buzz that lingers after a few glasses of cheap wine shared with good company.

When you peek back at him, Sylus already has his gaze trained on you. A small, deliberate smile tugs at his lips, but it’s his eyes that speak more—soft and unguarded; an unspoken fire simmering beneath the twin pools of crimson. 

Intoxicating. And dangerously addictive, if you’re not careful.

It’s not just casual interest either. It’s something deeper, something that lingers beyond the surface of mere curiosity, and it’s pulling you in. It’s as though, amidst the surrealness of the moment, he sees you fully. 

And for reasons you don’t quite seem to get, he appears to like what he sees.

“I’m too stupid to carry on a philosophical debate about the metaphysics of life,” you grumble jokingly. 

“On the contrary,” he counters… affectionately? “I think it’s refreshing. You’re delightful company, sweetie.”

The fat ginger feline at your feet purrs in contentment, and you can’t help the dumb grin from breaking across your face.

You have one last question left in your mind. Or at least, for tonight. “What’s in it for you now?”

He arches a brow. “That’s a broad question. Are you asking what my plans are once you leave me for the night? I can let you in on the schematics for tonight’s raid if you’re interested. After all, Onychinus continues to function,” a glimmer of mischief flickers across his features. "Despite recent developments.”

You crinkle your nose. “No, no. I meant–” What do you mean? “Like.”

“Like?” He cocks his head curiously. 

You know what you wanted to say–but you can’t seem to voice it out loud. 

What’s it for the MC in your universe? What’s it for… us? 

Is there an us? 

You feel like you’ve been doused with a shock of cold water. In an instant, you suddenly become painfully aware of the state you’re in amidst the entire exchange: You, with your hair all messy and tangled, blemishes littering your face along with your smudged up eyeliner, maybe even a double chin from this angle, completely–pitiful–superficial stuff, and… her. 

Your MC. The ideal version of you. Prettier, coveted and utterly different from you, MC. The one you’ve committed literal hours to, obsessively customizing every feature to perfection in character build mode. The one you’ve spent real money on for a bunch of stupid outfits. Just so you can match the aesthetic of your–her–love interest. Hers. 

Hers, hers, hers.

A tiny voice inside your brain reminds you that it’s somewhat a shallower concern compared to what you and Sylus had literally just been talking about for the better part of the night, but it still doesn’t help alleviate the biting insecurity that’s now coursing through you. 

Holy hell. Talk about a complete one-eighty. 

Sylus tries to call you back to attention, but half your mind is already clouded with feelings of self-doubt and a bunch of other emotions, swirling in you like a negative vortex, that you really don’t want to talk anymore—especially in present company. 

Where do you go from here? 

“... So, what happens now?”

He hesitates, a brief flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. “I wish I had an answer—I’m still trying to figure that out myself.”

“Seems like we’re at an impasse,” you mumble quietly. 

“... Indeed.” 

There’s an inexplicable lump in your throat. You thought clearing things up would finally satisfy you–assuage the confusion in your mind. Let you go on about your merry way. 

Now you just feel… morose. Confused. Inadequate. 

How can you even compare? Should you—is that even in the equation at all? Why are you assuming that Sylus isn’t at all content with what he currently has in his version of reality? In the universe he’s in? Sure, you’ve talked about the possibility of a world beyond what you both once thought was impossible, but does that really mean anything? In the grand scheme of things?

You could offer to stop playing the game. It’s the ethical thing to do, right? He’d no longer be bound by the pull of how he’s initially programmed to act, given the fact that this version of him is entirely separate from the rest. At least, according to him. 

How will his newfound sentience come into play here? You barely understand the nitty-gritty of his–evolving–code, and what it would mean if you just let him be. But surely it’s better than playing puppet for an otherworldly observer who’s played god for months on end. Right? 

There’s that realization. And there are your own selfish feelings. 

You don’t want to let him go. Not yet. Not ever.

“Why the long face, little dove?” He prods gently, pertaining to your prolonged silence. “We can figure this out together, can’t we?” 

What else is there to figure out? You almost say in response. Instead, you manage a weak smile.

Mustering up a yawn—which isn’t really hard to do after all the excitement for the day—you feign sleepiness, rubbing an eye for good measure. The pang in your chest, however, refuses to fade. “Yeah, but I’m kinda beat. I think I’ll call it a night now.” 

Sylus smirks softly, eyes tinged with an emotion you want–desperately–to label as fondness. “Of course. We’ve covered a lot of ground tonight, haven’t we?” 

“I’d say so, yeah. Thanks for, um. Clearing things up a bit.” 

He lets out a low chuckle. “Oh, I’m sure your curiosity is nowhere near satisfied,” his voice dips into a playful lilt. “You know where to find me if you feel like playing detective again, kitten.” 

You can’t help the small giggle from coming out. He’s just too fucking charismatic, the asshole.

“So, will I... get to talk to you again?” You ask hesitantly, dropping your gaze from the screen. “Tomorrow?” 

A lengthy pause. When the silence stretches past a full minute, you glance back at your phone nervously.

There’s a slight furrow between his brows as you see Sylus study you carefully. He looks puzzled by your sudden show of timidness. 

“Of course,” he states, as if the answer should be obvious. “Don’t think for a second that you’re exempted from your daily check-ins just because you know more now, sweetie.”

He still wants to see you. 

Maybe you could pretend that nothing has changed between you two—that the world hasn’t shifted beneath your feet in the span of a single night. That you’re still none the wiser.

And for tonight at least, maybe that’s all you need to believe.

“Okay,” you say quietly. “G'night then, Sy-Sy.” 

The errant nickname slips past your lips, unbidden.

Sylus smiles faintly. 

“Goodnight, love.” 

-

-

-

Your heart skips a beat as you exit the game. 

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @slownoise @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @i2sannie @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @slyfoxtsu @beomluvrr @milkandstarlight @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle <3 (also can you guys lmk if the tags are working i'm not sure if i'm doing it right or if it's bugging 🥹)

[honeytonedhottie]

celebrity energy⋆.ೃ࿔*:･👛🐩

i've written a post about celebrity energy before and in this post i kinda wanted to add onto what was said in that post and incorporate new info and sections…💬🎀

THE IT FACTOR ;

the it factor is the ability to capture people's attention. its about ur aura, ur identity, ur PRESENCE. you dont have to be "born with it" like a lot of people like to say, it is something that can be achieved.

so essentially ur gonna wanna get into a state where there is no fear. literally eliminate it. use the alter ego effect, affirm until ur fears dissipate, WHATEVER works for u but u just wanna get into a state where there is no fear because thats when ur truly magnetic.

MORE ON SELF CONCEPT ;

we've been conditioned to believe certain things about ourselves, whether its negative or positive and its our responsibility to rewire our brains and form those new assumptions so that then we can get back to our it factor and our hyper identity.

to get to a state where there is no fear you must also be able to hack ur nervous system. aka nervous system regulation. aka the best thing EVER…💬🎀

♡ breathing exercises and deep breathing ♡ humming to stimulate ur vagus nerve

THE TRIPLE C'S ;

while making the notes for celebrity energy (the big C) and i was able to umbrella it to three main points. those points being confidence, cuntiness, and charisma. 💕✍🏽

♡ confidence ; celebrities need to have undeniable confidence in themselves and their abilities. they're famous for a reason and they know that. work on ur self concept and watch ur confidence sky rocket.

♡ cuntiness ; to be cunty is to be feminine and aware of urself. be cunty in the things that u do and the way that u handle urself. to be cunty is to find the perfect balance of inner strength and delicateness. cunt = refined.

♡ charisma ; authenticity is the heart of charisma. be authentic and dont be afraid to take up space.

PERSONAL BRAND AND REPUTATION ;

to further touch on those points ur social media IS your brand. this section kind of ties in with the next but im trying to distinguish between the two. so ur personal brand is what u do. so lets say ur rly SUPER smart and ur known for getting A's on like everything.

that is ur personal brand and that comes with a reputation that u may or may not feel obligated to uphold. but its important to uphold a reputation of some sort. with that being said be careful of what u post on ur social media because DIGITAL FOOTPRINT IS REAL. and when people look at ur social media they're seeing a representation of what ur putting out to the world so always be mindful.

[milkykotek]

success story: celebrity crush turned boyfriend

First off, I'm aware people may not believe me. However, that's completely fine! I simply don't care, because it happened, and I wanted to share. I will not be sharing explicit details due to privacy reasons for both me and my boyfriend, especially since he is a popular actor.

It took me a few weeks because I didn't want to jump into dating immediately. However, you can immediately manifest anything and quantum jump! I chose to do it step by step.

"Dp" is a term used in the LOA (Law of Affirmation, Assumption and/or Attraction) community to describe your desired person. It can be anyone. 3D is the 3d dimension, the world you see in front of you. 4D is your thoughts and the reality where everything you want is accomplished.

It happened, but... what did?

I manifested my celebrity crush! I've been interested in him for some time now (due to personal reasons me and my now ex boyfriend – whom I manifested, too – have broken up). It was quite a wild ride, to be completely honest, and as always, I turned out successful!

There seems to be a blockage many face while manifesting celebrities, or otherwise famous/popular people. They're putting them on a pedestal, and so shifting the focus from actually manifesting to idolizing them. Of course, if you're manifesting a celebrity sp, you're most likely a fan of them already – that's not the point.

You're god, you're on top of the universe, you're the most important person there is. I don't care, and neither should you, about your circumstances. They're nothing but that – a circumstance in the 3D. As we all know, the 3D reflects our beliefs, assumptions, and the things we attract by engaging them. We engage them by giving them attention and reacting. An example can be someone giving you a dirty look – "Oh my god, they hate me!," you could think, and that is your assumption. You're not sure if they were even looking at you, because they could've been looking behind you, or simply have a resting b*tch face. And so, you thinking they frowned at you is an assumption. It's quite easy to create one.

And it's also easy to change that! The LOA (Law of Attraction, Assumption and/or Affirmation) community likes to overcomplicate manifesting by claiming it is hard to change your beliefs. It really is not. Every time you encounter a negative thought (thoughts create assumptions, assumptions show up in the 3D), simply change it. It's as easy as it seems. "I feel so sad", you can change that by saying, "I'm so happy and relaxed". Don't accept things you don't want to experience. Something happened that upset you? No, it didn't. Instead of dwelling on it, ignore it or affirm "It never happened", create a new story, "(something else) happened".

how did you manifest a celebrity dp?

You manifest a celebrity just like you manifest anyone else. They're human, and I don't believe in free will – anything I don't want, I change. It may sound weird, but is there even such thing as normal when it comes to manifesting and all the possibilities the universe offers?

The only thing you must do is take them off the pedestal and regain your power and control. It's not about them – it's about you. They're the obsessed one, they're the one manifesting you, you're on their mind.

If you're searching for a recipe, there is none. However, I can share a few ingredients – things that helped me:

— affirming. Affirming is nothing more than repeating what you want to happen, ex. "My dp loves me."

— persisting. You really don't want to give up until you see results. Of course, it doesn't mean you have to manifest 24/7, but then again, we think all the time, and so we manifest all the time, too.

— living in the end. Living in the end is living as if you already had your desire. How would you feel? How would you act, what would you do? Surely you wouldn't be stressing over results and whatever it is you're manifesting, because you'd already have it. Belief isn't necessary as long as you affirm and persist, but it sure does help.

— having someone to talk to. Having someone you can talk to about your manifestation journey and being supported was really important to me. I want to thank my best friends Star and Aurora, for always supporting and believing in me ❤️. Others would've called me delusional but you guys stood by my side.

I decided to delete the images proof due to rude comments and bullying in my asks.

Just breathe. For this part, I wanted to share some affirmations I used.

"Everything I want is mine. Everything I want, I get. I want it, I've got it. I'm a master manifestor. I always manifest whatever I desire and want."

"My dp (insert their name) loves me. My dp wants me. My dp is obsessed with me. My dp constantly texts me. My dp is texting me right now. My dp misses me. I am constantly on my dp's mind. My dp is constantly thinking about me. My dp is my boyfriend (or girlfriend, partner, anything you desire). I am my dp's best friend and soulmate."

Good luck ❤️. 222

[bluebells-and-dragonflies]

Viktor will deny this every time it comes up, but he's a horribly jealous person. He hates watching you get hit on, hates watching you have to entertain some idiot's conversation at a cocktail party while they try to catch a glimpse down the front of your shirt. This is one of the few things that will actually get him to be public with his affection. (Not that he's ashamed of you. Frankly, he's ashamed of himself- but you'll work that out later.)

If he notices someone taking liberties they shouldn't, daring to press their palm into your forearm to emphasize a point or smooth down a loose strand of hair, he'll sidle up next to you and slip his arm around your waist, fingers pressing into your skin solidly enough that you're always aware he's touching you. He won't be so rude as to interrupt the conversation- he has his funding to think of, after all. Instead he'll tilt his head, indicating that the other person go on, inevitably about some point of intellect they clearly believe they have more knowledge of than they do. He'll allow them to come to the end of their thought, however long-winded, and only then will he speak- and disassemble their entire point of view in the space of sentences. What they say is true if the underlying assumption holds up, but what grounds are there to assume? Surely one cannot draw a conclusion on so little evidence. And perhaps they haven't heard, but most recent analysis suggests their proposition is doomed to fail. Hasn't the council already debated something similar? Practically laughed it off the table?

Viktor will swear there moments have nothing to do with jealousy, that it's not his fault you seem to attract the ignorant. But the third time he does it, reducing some poor woman to stuttering, you see the glint in his amber eyes, the smugness that pulls the corner of his mouth upward. He enjoys this. Oh, he never lets it show, adopting a neutral tone that grows ever more polite as his critique gets harsher, but he takes a twisted sort of pride in scaring off anyone who gets a little too familiar with you. Look how good he is for you, how much better than any one of them could ever be.

[heavenangelly]

I feel like people are constantly trying to find ways to make the law seem fake. Telling people you’re being delusional, that it’s just a placebo effect, that it’s not real, that it can’t happen, etc. Is it so hard to believe that there is a power within you that can make your life marvellous? That can make you free? That anything you ever desire, can become true instantly? That you’d never have to struggle again? Doesn’t it sound amazing? Because it’s way better than believing any of those limiting beliefs. You have a way OUT with the law. Why do you want to believe otherwise?

All that you’ll ever have to do to “get” your desire is to be the person that already has it / is it. Since you are now that person, it is an assumption. And since the law is literally called, the LAW of ASSUMPTION, that’s all you’ll ever have to do. It’s so fucking simple. And the LAW will never change. It’s been around since humans (possible animals) existed. The only difference is that humans have now become aware. That people (Neville, Abdullah, Edward, bloggers, etc) have started preaching and showing people the truth of life and the power you hold within you.

STOP trying to find ways to prove to yourself that the law is fake. What you seek, you shall find. And in your seeking, you manifest what you’re seeking, so you’ve already lost.

You are always manifesting. Throughout your whole life you have manifested things, consciously or unconsciously (excluding trauma and things you didn’t know about). You have always been a master manifester. You have always chosen to believe/assume things. And it has ALWAYS been reflected. The law never fails.

Actually PRACTICE (consciously) the law and you will see what I mean. Go on your journey and explore your unlimited power. Understand who you are, how to manifest, and why the 3d doesn’t matter. Then, you will be destined to succeed.

And please, stop letting other peoples beliefs become your own. They’re irrelevant and do not matter in your world. You create; so only YOU matter. Become confident in who you are and what you believe in and these measly, insecure, desperate people will fade away. Become confident in the law by applying it. You are God. Wake up.

Another note is, is that none of these bloggers gaf about TikTok’s or some random npc’s beliefs because they have practiced the law and have SEEN their world MELT before their eyes to accommodate them. They know it, they’ve seen it, they believe it. They have no reason to doubt. None of us would lie for shits and giggles.

Do not let the world sway you from your power.

Xoxo,

Heavenangelly.

[artytaeh]

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

MATTHEO RIDDLE— not horribly tall, but slightly above average. strong arms; what he doesn't have of height like the weasley twins, he has of muscles on his arms, even though not a ken-like amount, which he finds ugly. dark curls— inherited by his mother, the insanely crazy bellatrix lestrange, and beautiful eyes that he has no clue where he got from. long lashes, defined jawline.

in short, a handsome, easily found attractive, young man. and with that bad boy attitude? well, mattheo riddle is every girl's guilty pleasure of a daydream.

some, because they'd like to have their attitude and confidence fucked out of them, by mattheo riddle who certainly takes no bullshit. others, because they delusionally believe that they can somehow fix him— turning a doberman into a golden retriever.

mattheo riddle who's the only first year to not tremble under snape's gaze, because his father is voldemort. the thing, the person he fears the most.

mattheo riddle who doesn't even blink when teachers, older students and even intimidating people yell at him— this is child's play, compared to the cold, frightening aura of his father, and the eery sound of his mother talking to him; one second, she's calm, putting on a (scary) loving persona— then, she's raging, yelling and slamming things, hands on the table, almost throwing hands at her son.

mattheo riddle who stands on the end of the line, letting students get in front of him and even threatening some to take his place on the line, so he stands further behind. this only happens once, during that one professor lupin's class, with the boggart— because mattheo knows that it'd take the shape of his father, walking eerily towards him. not only does he hate the thought of having his classmates gossiping about him, about his family and making even more assumptions about him; but also knows that he'd stand there, paralyzed. incapable of even raising his wand, much less utter such an easy spell like riddikulus. for mattheo, what's ridiculous is his situation; how he'd love and thank the heavens, if he could have such a silly fear like insects, ghosts, or even clowns.

mattheo riddle who grows extremely confident because nothing scares him at hogwarts; after all, his father isn't there— the only thing that makes mattheo riddle tremble is his presence. anything else isn't half as frightening as coming back home to his mother, bellatrix lestrange, and father, voldemort he-who-must-not-be-named.

mattheo riddle who becomes scary and intimidating, so that no one can scare or intimidate him instead. he spent most of his third year at hogwarts practicing on the mirror— a way to turn his beautiful eyes into a dead stare, making sure that the shining glint of his eyes disappears, to become so scary, that no one would dare to mess with him like tom riddle does. or even draco malfoy, who tried to do this back on their first year, bullying mattheo into becoming his friend and follower—, but all of this was before they became genuine friends, along with theodore, lorenzo and blaise.

mattheo riddle who's known by the unhinged brother, less smart riddle— while others, who are aware of tom riddle's tendencies, call him the older psychopath brother, brilliant riddle. such a charming pair of siblings, aren't they?

mattheo riddle who smokes a whole package of cigarettes with theodore nott, when they're on the train back home. for holidays and for summer vacation, in silence, because they're too anxious and nervous to come back home, to leave their (although they're too proud to admit) safe place — hogwarts.

mattheo riddle who respects his older brother, tom riddle, because he thinks that in many ways, tom is like their father sometimes. and that scares him.

mattheo riddle who only learned how to swim and to stop fearing lakes, when his slytherin friends teached him.

( this happened on lorenzo's house, since he invited his friends to spend some days there, during summer vacation. after all, his parents are the less... frightening, in a way, and blaise zabini gatekeeps his mother from his friends, for obvious reasons. besides, lorenzo has the largest pool! upon realizing that mattheo stayed behind while they played in the swimming pool, the boys, for once, didn't turn the situation into a joke. draco stood behind, throwing opinions and dictating that they were doing it wrong— while theodore and blaise stood each by mattheo's side, making sure that he wouldn't get scared if he felt like he was drowning, while lorenzo is in front of him, advising on what to do. it was a mess. a mess that became a core memory of true friendship. )

even so, mattheo hates to go to a point of the lake where he's no longer tall enough to touch the sandy surface— because suddenly he's seven years old again, with tom riddle standing on the edge of the lake, smiling darkly at the sight of his baby brother drowning in the cold water.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

mattheo riddle who, after all of these years, still stares at his older brother with a mixture of resentment and sorrow— secretly, mattheo still wishes to be close with tom. to have a normal brotherly friendship with him, even if they're everything but a normal family. so, mattheo riddle, who envies pairs of siblings whenever he sees them around hogwarts halls, hugging, lightheartedly bullying each other. wishing he could trauma dump shared experiences of his parents with tom, who would've demolished inch after inch of mattheo's pride and feelings, calling him weak.

mattheo riddle who doesn't join draco when he bullies the weasleys. he never defends them either; he doesn't need to, because the redhead siblings stick around for each other. mattheo doesn't know if his heart feels like crying, or ripping apart with a vicious, angry jealousy that he doesn't have that. a sibling that cares enough to take care of him.

mattheo riddle who drinks and drinks and drinks until he passes out, or until he almost throws up his stomach away— rarely accepting any kind of help whatsoever, because he doesn't feel like he deserves it.

because pain and finding out a way to solve things by himself, is what he grew up used to. because his mother is a bipolar, sadistic woman; because his father is too feared by mattheo for him to even dare to consider asking for his help; because his older brother, tom riddle, isn't a pillar he can lean on to— rather, a pillar that would glady fall on top of him, crushing him under debris. he's another person to be feared, and who'd leave mattheo even worse than he already is.

mattheo riddle, who hesitantly accepts lorenzo and theodore's help. because lorenzo is too much of a mother of the group (whenever blaise isn't around, but mattheo doesn't think he'd ever allow the zabini boy to help him either. of course, this happens whenever lorenzo isn't planning his way to another girl's bed either) and by far, the most caring of the boys. or at least, the one who easily shows his worry without a hundred walls surrounding his heart.

and theodore nott, well— mattheo thinks that the term best friend is too corny, so he settles to admit that theo is the person who understands him the most. if he doesn't have tom, he has theo, to sympathize with his shitty situation, because theo's family and hardships are too similar, even though they don't share a last name.

they have matching wounds, inflicted by different people, but similar situations.

and because theodore is awfully moody, sarcastic and would punch mattheo into reason, well— mattheo unwillingly accepts theodore's (forceful) help.

· · ·

mattheo riddle who only ever has deep thoughts when he's throwing up from the alcohol, or becomes self-conscious of himself. of the evilness he provokes, of the unchanging way his fate was decided, as soon as he was conceived in his mother's womb. how he, no matter how he'd like to change, believes that he's a lost cause.

something that's not worth the effort, since mattheo riddle, younger brother of tom riddle, son of bellatrix lestrange and the dark lord himself, must have been born with a vicious evil heart. how could he not, with a family like this?

it must be on his dna. or so he believes.

when he's drunk, puke being wiped out from his lips and alone in the bathroom— this is the only time when mattheo riddle allows himself to pity himself. other than that, he'd scoff at the thought of doing so; because that's a weak thing to do.

and to survive his family, mattheo wouldn't dare to be weak a single day of his life. he might get killed if he allows a moment of weakness around his family. whatever family means, anyways.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

mattheo riddle who's always the first one to start a fight— and never the one to end it. either his friends push him away, or he's held down by some spell casted by one of hogwarts' teachers.

however, he will start a fight with a group of five gryffindors, if they make a nasty comment about mattheo's friends. if they dare to assume, to gossip, to say one mean word about the friends that tolerate mattheo's behavior even on his shittiest days. the first thing he does is grab the last one talking by the collar, so that his fist naturally punches the guy's face. yes, mattheo can keep up a fight with five guys— even though he knows that, as much of a good and violent fighter as he is, there's no way that he won't leave with a few bruises (and bloody knuckles from rashly punching back and forth).

nevertheless, mattheo riddle won't ever allow theodore or his friends to join him, if he's about to have a 1v1. not even to intimidate or make a single threat— mattheo thinks that it's pathetic and coward to do so, which is why sometimes, mattheo doesn't help draco when he puts up a stunt against a single student (or a group that is outnumbered by malfoy's little friends). when draco comes back, mattheo won't scold him— but he won't shut up either, at least making sure that by some miracle, draco understands how coward it is to do that, from the sarcastic comment that mattheo throws with no hesitation.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

mattheo riddle who actually has one of the most beautiful smiles. once his usual dead stare is gone, showing how those dark eyes of his can look so sweet and bright— squinting into half moons, when he truly laughs or smiles genuinely. his smile is one that makes you think that maybe, just maybe, there isn't any evil or meanness to this slytherin boy.

mattheo riddle who is so touch starved, that only a warm gaze from you, is enough to melt him and (at least mentally) get him on his knees. those dark eyes soften and follow every movement of yours— looking like a lost puppy, when you eventually shift your attention to something else, your gaze leaving him. he won't grab you, he won't yell for your attention out of pride— but if you were to look into his eyes, you'd see how mattheo silently hopes to some deity that you'll have your attention on him once again.

mattheo riddle who doesn't know how to be gentle, because he never knew gentle touches, caresses and soft approaches. this man is almost stupid because of this sometimes— mattheo isn't even aware of his own strength, so when he does hurt you unintentionally (by grabbing holding your wrist) and gets scolded about it... he'll genuinely look at you, confused. sure, he'll apologize— fine, sorry!

. . . however, mattheo isn't sure what he did wrong. was it really that hurtful? to him, he was simply holding you, not grabbing...

( because mattheo riddle was never held, only yanked or dragged along. )

mattheo riddle who would love to have people playing with his hair. twirl his curls around your fingers, tug at it (but gently, please! he easily complains at the slightest hint of discomfort!), massage his scalp, caress his dark hair— mattheo melts and for a moment, wonders if sleep does arrive to him this fast at night, like it does now that you're touching him there.

so yes, during classes, mattheo sneakily stands on the door frame— carefully watching where you decide to take your seat, before he marches up to you so he can take the other chair of said desk.

mattheo marches confidently, hands on his pockets and body a little bend to the front; focused on his target: you.

all of his concentration is locked on his goal: your attention for the whole class. and if he's too late, because some annoying girl or asshole with pants got there before him? one glare from mattheo, and they're gone.

mattheo doesn't even bother to take his books; he greets, crosses his arms on top of the table, settles his head there— and if you're too slow to understand what's this whole preparation for, well, mattheo has no problem to make his intentions clear, by (much gentler, this time) grabbing your hand and settling it on his head. among his dark curls.

and if you notice that they look softer and taken care of— well, mattheo won't be catch dead and much less alive saying it. but blaise noticed how mattheo bought a new shampoo, conditioner and a weird bottle that seems to help curly hair like mattheo's.

AND HOW DID AN ALL-IN-ONE SHAMPOO USER LIKE MATTTHEO, KNEW WHAT PRODUCTS TO USE IN WHICH ORDER, FROM DAY TO NIGHT? oh, that was easy; mattheo spent an evening leaning against the entrance of the slytherin common room, watching intently every student that entered or left during that hour of the day. his eyes glared up and down— searching for a slytherin, be it a witch or a wizard, older or younger than him, that has a type of hair similar (if not identical) to his.

finally, a slytherin girl was on her way to hang out with her friends. that is, until mattheo nonchalantly grabs her by the collar of her shirt, right when she innocently passes by him, then drags the girl along with him to a secluded corner of the slytherin common room.

( out of love for life and respect for their well-being, it's safe to say that her friends didn't come to save her. though, props to them, because they kept watching... just in case. of, you know, having to search for help. )

the slytherin girl trembles on her spot, rethinking her life choices; wondering if she had done anything to offend mattheo riddle, the dark lord's son— not the psychopath, the unhinged one. when he bends down, so that he's face to face with her, eyes squinting with his jaw clenched...

she closes her eyes. wondering if she'd be punched or have her hair grabbed to be slammed against the wall. however, after awkward ten seconds pass and her body is still intact, she opens one eye, to see mattheo making a grimace.

a grimace that would be funny if he wasn't so scary. a grimace that seemed to ask, 'what the fuck are you doing?'. which would have been verbalized, mind you, if mattheo didn't have a list of priorities at the moment. he opens his mouth, and this slytherin girl feared to have hallucinated such an innocent, random question.

'which products do you use for your hair?'

( ten minutes later, after having explained her hair routine in detail to mattheo riddle himself, who took notes and hummed for her to keep going, the slytherin girl goes back to her friend group. pale. she doesn't give details— no one would believe her. and she doesn't think that mattheo riddle would like having people know that he's about to spend 100 galleons on hair products to please you. )

౨ৎ please understand that i'm trying my hardest, ♡ ͡

my head's a mess, but i'm trying regardless . . .

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— i noticed that i have a few mattheo girlies enjoying my writing, so! please consider this a little bittersweet drabble for you. once again, tysm for the feedback! ♥︎

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

[brucewaynehater101]

I need you to stop me from making another Tim Drake centric fic

I got this random idea that won’t leave me alone

like what if the emotional scars and trauma people have show up physically too most commonly as little cracks on the skin and all of the bats have them

they hide them tho with make up and stuff so people don’t question it except Tim hides them from everyone maybe bc that’s what his parents taught him to do maybe bc he just doesn’t want to burden any of the bats

the bats think that Tim is fine so to them he’s invincible which leads them to treat him as such subconsciously or otherwise especially Bruce

it takes a lot for something to be bad enough that they physically manifest and Tim has A LOT bc everyone thinks he’s invincible

:) it won’t leave me alone help me I beg of you

Hmm.... Let's add on, shall we? This is a very rad idea. You should definitely write a fic about it, but no pressure.

Mind if I explore it? Also, feel free to disregard any part below you don't want/disagree with. This is just brainstorming ^^

Alright. Emotional scars are a physical mark on someone's skin.

Similar to regular scars, they can fade as a person heals.

Some may never disappear, and some only appear for a short time.

What would their color be?

Would they look like actual cracks in a person (so black-ish in color)? Would they be gold or multi-colored (different colors represent different kinds of emotional traumas)?

The level of hurt inflicted is directly proportional to the size (length and width) of the scar.

Perhaps more could be deduced from the general shape (is it jagged? A single line? Branching?)

Not all people have these marks

Most of the population manifests them. There's some prejudice against folk who don't [something something they are heartless, incapable of feelings, not able to be emotionally hurt, cold, detached, etc.], but hiding scars is also common. Therefore, it's harder to discern whether someone is hiding their marks or markless. It's a very fine line, so most people allow a smaller mark to show every once in a while. There's even a few trends to proudly display all marks.

Marks appear at the time of the emotional harm

It may not be apparent at the time due to the location, but the individual being hurt will manifest the mark at the very moment of emotional harm.

Anyways, that's the background stuff. Fun, but let's get into Tim specifically ^^

Tim's parents are part of the few who believe that showing off your scars to anyone, even your loved ones, is both a weakness and a way to guilt-trip people. Therefore, through their archeology studies, they managed to obtain magical objects to prevent the showing of emotional marks. It's similar to glamor.

Tim's object can change forms to suit his needs (so a ring at one moment and an earring the next). This ability prevents the Bats from discovering it.

Janet fakes a very small mark on her hand when she wants to discourage any rumors that's she's incapable of manifesting marks. For Tim, though, his parents wanted him to have rumors of being incapable of forming marks. It served their purpose better for him being the cunning Drake heir.

The deception started from birth, so no one but the Drakes know of Tim's ability to form marks [and the Drake parents never see the marks they leave behind on their child].

The Waynes, long before Tim entered their life, were aware of these rumors. Thus, when Tim demands to become Robin, he doesn't correct their assumptions.

Bruce is a callous fucker to Tim at the start. If Tim can't be hurt emotionally, then Bruce's ill-treatment of him is fine (which is flawed logic. The markless can be emotionally hurt, and they still deserve kindness, dignity, and respect even if they couldn't. Bruce was mentally fucked up, but it doesn't excuse his treatment).

Eventually, Bruce comes to the second realization that Tim should still be treated well even if it doesn't hurt him regardless. The man's behavior is better, but he still has the notion in mind that Tim can't be emotionally hurt. He uses this for missions and to downplay the way his other kids treat Tim (specifically Jason and Damian when they first meet Tim).

Tim gets used to a rotation of insult-names: Robot Robin, heartless, markless (said insultingly), cold-blooded, unfeeling bastard, etc.

He's also subject to a TON of misunderstandings. People are more reluctant to love him due to the belief that he can't love them back. He gets yelled at and told off for "masking/faking his emotions" when he's actually being genuine.

Which adds to his hurt :)

He also has to pretend not to grieve his parents when they die :(

Due to how rare markless are, the Bats don't meet "another" one until after the BruceQuest. When they chat with this person, they realize how many misconceptions they have about them (such as the markless being incapable of feelings. In fact, they accidentally offend that person when they tell the other they don't need to fake their emotions in front of the Bats. Safe to say, the markless individual becomes incensed when they realize how they've been treating their own markless family member).

This would be at least four (probably closer to five) years after Tim first became Robin. The entire family has a meltdown.

Tim, on the other hand, is used to the treatment the Bats have been giving him and becomes incredibly uncomfortable with them trying to care for his feelings and whatnot. It's rocky for a long while as everyone tries to seek forgiveness for something Tim bitterly doesn't hold against them (he is lying to them after all).

Tim rarely, if ever, views his own marks. The last time he checked was when he was having his identity crisis after Robin was taken from him. His entire body, from head to toe, had cracks in it. There was a giant, gaping crack on his back for the metaphorical stab in the back it was.

And we haven't even gotten to when the Bats figure out Tim was never markless :)

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 7 - Black N' White Knight

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

“I can’t believe that just happened,” Dick tells Tim, hand carting through his hair. The two of them are in the kitchen, at the breakfast bar. Tim sitting in front of his laptop with his legs crossed, and Dick tapping one foot agitatedly against the marble floor. While Tim might not be grinning ear to ear, it’s pretty obvious for anyone who knows him that he’s delighted by the tale Dick just regaled to him.

And what a tale it was. He hasn’t seen you in a year and a half, and then when he does, he finds you teary eyed staring at a picture of him shirtless at the gym. Bruce had always told him the way he played with the paparazzi would come to bite him in the ass one day, but he really can’t say he expected… that.

Obviously, it had to be a prank. That’s his first thought. That’s his only thought, really. What other explanation could there be? An accident? Maybe you’d forgotten what his room looked like. It wasn’t like he kept much personal stuff in his Wayne manor room, the only markers his clothes and the letters he kept in his drawer from his parents.

And you were wearing his clothes, of all things. He’d be surprised if you forgot how much of a Superman fanboy he was, seeing as he’d spent many hours ranting to you before the explosion. So, a prank. A show of good will, an olive branch maybe? It was more likely you were just fucking with his head, as you’d done in the past. Never like this, though.

This was just… bizarre.

“I can’t either,” and of course, Tim sounds near estatic saying that. The love of chaos ran true in that one.

Dick had managed to wrangle his life under control a few years back, and despite the universe seeming to try to unravel it at the seams, he was indisposed to let it simply happen. Even if you of all people had changed. No, Dick was getting older, and he was finding his taste for chaos a lot more… limited.

He didn’t want to suffer it’s affects. He was currently suffering it’s affects.

“I knew something was going on when she showed up to the party, but this…” Tim pauses, leaning back in his chair, “It’s gotta be a prank, right?”

It said a lot about their family that this was all the assumption they defaulted to.

“It could be something else. Did you even take her to the hospital after?” Dick offers instead, overthinking as always. This situation seemed to be made for overthinking, though.

Tim hums. “No, we did not.”

Then he turns his stare to Dick, like he’s expecting something from him.

“Seriously?”

“What? You’re the friendly one.”

Dick very much did his best to seem like the friendly one, at least. Tim was well aware it was a complete farce, though. Dick was nice but he could also be a bit… well… a bit of a dick. Another thing he’d been trying to overcome. He was doing better than when he’d been seven, at least.

Dick sighs, pressing his hand to his forehead, “I’d probably just end up accidentally nagging her, and then she’d never speak to me again.”

“That’s not my problem,” Tim shrugs, glancing back down at his laptop and squinting.

“It is, actually. Because if she stopped talking to me you’d probably be the next one till the girls and Duke came home who has to talk to her.”

“She could talk to Jay,” Tim offers, because he’s a shithead. Dick bets he did the same with Bruce, “And besides, I’m busy doing surveillance.”

“You mean stalking.”

“I do it to everybody, stop making such a big deal out of it.”

Dick sighs again.

“Hm, you might want to check your phone,” Tim says, in a way that suggests he has once again tapped the network. Keeping him out of Dick’s private life was like Sisyphus and his boulder. He still wasn't going to give up, and the time Tim and Steph mercilessly bullied him for getting dumped over text had made him all the more so.

‘Dont_try’: hey. can you come pick me up? thx

“Please, tell me you sent that and are just messing with me,” Dick begs, staring down at his phone in mild despair. Chaos. Always fucking chaos. Despite how hard he tried, he could not keep his family out of trouble. God damn it, when he’d gotten this job he’d been the one made for trouble. Where did he go wrong?

“Honestly, sounds like the sort of thing I’d do, but the girl just got bitch slapped so I really think you should respond fast.”

“What?!”

“She’s fine now, run to the bathrooms I think. You know for such an upstate place you’d think they had better camera positioning,” Tim mutters, complaining that he can’t watch every single little movement you make. Dick thinks he should probably worry about this, as it’s a clear sign of another decline for his sanity, but he’s now got this shit to deal with.

“Why, Tim? What is going on? Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Hm?” he’s engrossed by the computer, “Ah, the shitty boyfriend… some soup- ha, how is she such a clutz? Maybe we should get her head checked again- and… an altercation of some kind? I don’t know, I can’t see it properly.”

Dick leans forward in his stool, clasped hands covering his face for a moment.

“Are you going to reply? If you don’t soon, she’ll probably make it a bigger shitshow,” Tim says, nudging his foot against Dick’s. Dick, good big brother that he is, takes a deep breath and steadies himself. Even if this is really not what he wanted for his holiday, he’s dealt with much, much worse.

The press will have forgotten about this within the week. You, however, likely not. He’d promised to help you all those years ago, and even if he had no idea why you were reaching out to him, or if you would even be amicable when you met again, he’d still damn well do it.

He glances back down at his phone.

“What is going on?” Dick repeats to himself, and Tim’s head cocks to the side. There’s that familiar cat that got the cream grin spreading across his younger brother’s face, and it just really isn’t welcome right now.

“Intrigued yet?”

Unfortunately for both him, Tim and especially you, Dick already was.

He’s in his car in five minutes flat, finger tapping against the premium leather wheel. The sound of it is the only thing that manages to keep him sane.

Riding up to the place, Dick realises that no, maybe the press won’t be over this within the week. Considering the amount of paparazzi swarming the place, he doubted you’d be free for at least a few months. To be fair, the mysterious ex-wayne making such a scene was a bit of a big deal. Before you’d been basically invisible, despite your immense wealth and past.

Invisible? Dick thinks he spots at least twenty cameras. And that’s not even mentioning all the phones inside that would’ve gotten up close videos of whatever happened. Their legal team would handle it fine, that which Barbara or Tim couldn’t wipe from the face of the earth. And that was very little, all things considered.

Dick has to push past the calls of his name, ignoring all the intrusive questions volleyed his way like the pro he was. He still makes sure to listen carefully and store away every vital bit of information, as well as remember the logos on the film crew’s van. Eventually he makes his way to the front of the line, and the flustered front of house immediately recognises his face and sweeps him inside. Dick ducks in with a thankful smile, which he admits, falters when he enters the scene.

A scene which you are not in. Your gold digging boyfriend was, though. Of all the things Dick regrets with you, it’s not breaking the horrid relationship the two of you had apart. Or well, the fact that you totally, loudly hated his guts. He was a sensitive guy, y’know!

He sees your terribly boyfriend - George, Dick remembers - raging at some poor servers, and he knows he need to go sweep in and save the pour soul. It’ll be a hard fight, he can already tell.

Before he does so, he sends a quick text to his phone.

Underwear_guy: Where are you?

Don’t_try: I’ll be right out.

Shockingly, that was the truth. You come striding into the restaurant, and immediately all eyes are on you. It makes you stutter-step. Dick can see you visibly stiffen up, before you manage to gather your courage and keep walking. You don’t even pay him a single glance as you walk straight towards your fuming boyfriend.

You try to whisper, keeping your voice quiet and your conversation private. The boyfriend seems uninterested in the idea.

“What the fuck are you thinking?!” he cuts you off.

You glance around, and then say something else. It seems like you’re trying to defuse the situation, but George seems uninterested by the idea. 

“This behaviour is ridiculous. You need to get it together, we’re in public!” he yells, like he isn’t the one causing a scene. He seems to be trying to intimidate you back into silence. But today and well, yesterday too, something is different about you.

Okay, that’s enough of that. Dick’s intervening.

“You cheated on me! You deserve it and everything that’s coming to you!”

Or, uh, maybe you’ve got it covered.

-

George’s shocked face is almost worse than when you literally bit him. Guess he expected you to be a bit more demure after that encounter. He should know better, the other version of you seemed to have been even more spiteful in nature.

Today again, you prove you are a less than stellar person. You’d stopped caring about George as soon as you’d discovered he’d cheated, but you were still angry. Not jealous, but furious. Bubbling up your throat, rage and bile and the urge to attack him once again, even if you just want to go home.

Your teeth grind. Your jaw ticks. And oddly, you realise you have a real taste for George Lancaster’s limbs.

Though your life had changed (literally) in the past few days, you were still the same girl from your first twenty-first. You wanted George Lancaster to suffer. Even more so, now that the evil cunt had hit you right in the face. The hit had stunned you, though. More emotionally than physically, but it had shocked you.

You couldn’t say you were a coward. You’d spent far too many days in your teenage years indulging in self-destructive behaviours to think that. But something about this pathetic man was scaring the shit out of you. You think that made you more pathetic, but you couldn’t quite tell. That’d be victim blaming, right?

You did have a habit of blaming yourself. It was just usually your fault.

…Maybe you shouldn’t have bit him, no matter how much the response was instinctual or his screech was satisfying. This was all too confusing, all too much. You needed to get back to your apartment, lock the doors and barricade them so nobody bothers you. And then maybe hibernate for a week. You needed some time to process all the stupid bullshit you were experiencing. The wayne manor was too much, your horrible white apartment was too much, George fucking Lancaster was too fucking god damn much.

You take a deep breath, and manage to stop yourself from bolting like a deer. Deal with the problem at hand. Deal with it now, deal with it!

“I’m leaving, and we are done. It’s that simple,” you tell George, trying to drill in a message that he seems unable to comprehend. At this point you’d assume he’d be trying to apologise, manipulate back into his good graces, but you think you might’ve completely broke him. Broke the script.

Good. That was damn well good.

“Can we talk about this somewhere else at least?” George replies, eyes flicking to Richard Grayson’s angry gaze. At least you think he’s angry. You can’t quite gather the courage to look directly at him.

Also, there’s the manipulation! You wish you weren’t right this time.

“Sure, but I’m bringing him, and my answer will absolutely not change. You hit me.”

“You bit me!”

Well, yeah, not your best moment. You don’t think you can regret it, though.

“Then I think this relationship is ending on equal terms,” you reply, trying your best to just get him to quit it. It is obviously not working by the way his expression darkens.

“I’ll tell the press everything,” George threatens, which, well, is sort of a shitty threat because I don’t even know what he’s threatening. ‘Everything’? Couldn’t he be a bit more specific?

You shrug. It is the wrong response, you know it is, but you’ve completely ran dry of fucks to give. Couldn’t be much worse than the bullshit happening right now. The press were already very well fed, considering the situation that was today. George makes a small sound of fury.

“We’ll sue,” Richard Grayson, the white knight that you’d daydreamed about, comes to your rescue. Is it odd that it’s kind of flustering? You probably shouldn’t be flustered.

George immediately snaps his gaze to Grayson’s, giving the man a look with a healthy dose of fear. Couldn’t blame the guy. Even if he was the second smallest of the three remaining brothers, he was still well known for being strong. His family often did kick-boxing, and their sister, Cass, often whooped their asses. It was sort of satisfying to watch. Anyway, his physical prowess from fighting to weirdo gymnastic bullshit was evident in his svelte build.

George was many things, but he wasn’t an idiot. With just the one threat from the Waynes legal team, he skitters away like the little rat you know him to be. He leaves the restaurant, and he very obviously does not pay or even leave a tip. You suppose you have the cash to make up for it. Then, ignoring the paparazzi, you were technically home free. You glance to the side. Richard Grayson’s beautiful face looks a mix of confuddled, frustrated, and exhausted. He still saved you, though, even after the fool you made of yourself.

White knight, indeed. It almost feels a bit anticlimactic, but it’s the results you wanted. And yet, an ominous feeling befalls you. Somehow, you don’t feel you’ve seen the last of George Lancaster. You just really hope the old you hadn’t committed any crimes. A tabloid? Humiliating, but livable. Prison? Not so much.

Not that the rich stayed in prison in Gotham, or even the rest of the world. It was kind of strange to realise you were sort of above the law now.

You glance at Dick, pulling your uncomfortably wet shirt away from your chest. You’ve sort of been bled dry of any shits you could give at this point, so you decide, very maturely, to make jokes and ignore all your problems. It had gotten you this far.

You’d seen this behaviour before. Many, many times. It was what usually got you fired. But now you didn’t really have to worry about that, so why should you worry about causing a scene and ruining your life a bit more? It wasn’t yours, after all.

“What do you think?” you joke, elbowing Dick. He looks down from glaring at the entrance George just slipped out of, to you. His blue eyes are a damn near shock to the soul. It takes everything in you not to start fidgeting.

“Think of what?” he responds, and despite how hard you try, you can not read his expression.

“I’m trying to make some more news. Don’t think the reporters got enough the other day,” you say, gesturing to the giant stain. It’s still Dick’s shirt. You hadn’t realised till now, but the Beatles was now some sort of green soup. Is it kind of gross of you to acknowledge that at least the soup smelled good?

Probably. You didn’t actually get to eat anything here. It’s also probably a bit weird that you’re thinking about eating at a time like this. Probably.

“I think you’ve done enough, honestly,” he says, glancing at the camera flashes from outside.

He sounds exactly like your mother, it’s almost uncanny. Well, this version of him technically knew her. You’re still not sure how well en-meshed your two families had been before the disaster, but maybe he’d picked up some traits from her.

…That… you’re not sure how to feel about the idea. The old green monster bubbles up at the thought, and you can’t tell if you’re jealous your mum got to meet Dick Grayson, or that Dick Grayson might’ve gotten to know your mum.

“We should leave,” he says, cutting off your bitter inner thoughts, “I know you don’t like it when the magazines bother you.”

You don’t? You don’t. Yes, that makes sense, ‘you’ definitely wouldn’t have. And it’s not like you feel comfortable with them either. In fact, if you think about the fact your drowned rat appearance will be on every tabloid in the city by tomorrow, probably alongside photos from your birthday, you feel so nauseous you could collapse. Going to compartmentalise that one.

“Yes, going, let’s go,” you say, following Dick out of the restaurant.

Despite the fact that the security guards are trying their best, it’s getting quite rowdy out here. When Dick wraps an arm around your shoulder, shielding you with his body, you almost just pass out right there. His muscles… Your heart simply can’t take it. As it is, Dick notices you jump like a foot in the air, and backs off. He still makes sure to try and protect you from their vision as much as possible.

Still, in an act that is purely rebellious, you turn and give them a big smile and a wave. Even as you hate every single person on the other side of the divide, you want to make one thing very clear. You will not be cowed by someone like George fucking Lancaster. Your peace sign and wink are a message to them, to him, and to yourself.

Despite the fact that this new life is one you have no idea how to handle, you know one thing. Put on a face, and it’ll always be easier.

Dick is probably wondering what the hell happened to you for you to be acting this way. Your shirt has a giant stain on it, you just broke up with your cheating boyfriend, went through a traumatising experience just a few days ago, and you’ve got the biggest grin on your face. This behaviour speaks more and more of a full blown mental breakdown. And it’s not the first you’ve had or the last.

There’s paparazzi snapping thousands of photos of the two of you, and instead of shying away as ‘you’ used to, you throw up a peace sign. One of the papps drops their camera. That confuses you a bit, as your peace sign deflates slightly. Didn’t they want more pictures? Weren’t you supposed to pose…?

For all you stalked celebrities online, you realise you have no idea how to pretend to be one. This is going to become an issue, you can already tell.

He points at a car, and you assume it’s his because he starts making his way over. He’s obviously done this sort of thing before, using and guiding the security with a smooth confidence. Even still, the two of you are a bit too close for comfort.

Which you prove, by putting your foot directly in your mouth.

“I don’t have abs, but do you think the press would like my stomach like they like yours?” you say, and almost immediately regret it. Another poor joke. You are deflecting so hard. And why the hell did you bring that up, you dunce? You feel your brain cells draining the more you’re around this guy, it’s not healthy for you.

“Please don’t pull your shirt up in public,” Dick sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown. It’s spreading, like the plague. You’re patient zero, of course. Even still he gets you guys to the car, and opens the side door for you. You follow his wordless command and slip into the passenger seat.

“I won’t. Sorry, sorry,” you reply, to relieve him of some of the trauma you’re currently inflicting.

He glances back to the papps, and then back down at you. His smile bowls you over like he’s getting the last strike in a fucking 300. He genuinely is the most beautiful human being you’ve ever seen. Thankfully, he closes the door so you have a moment to gather your sanity before he goes around the car and gets in the driver’s seat.

You hope you’re subtle when you shift away from him slightly. It shouldn’t be that surprising really. You were stupid on average. You would be stupider around attractive people. You would be frankly disastrous around someone as blastingly hot as Dick Grayson. The Waynes in general turned you into a drooling idiot.

Good god, you need to get out of this car. As soon as you think that, Dick is pulling away from the parking spot and out onto the streets. He makes slow progress because Gotham traffic, but eventually you manage to flee the horrifying stares of the cameras. Already you can tell it’ll be giving you nightmares. Probably along with images of the guy who tried to rape you and Damian Wayne sneering at you.

“So, how are you feeling?”

Despite how you wish it not, Mr. Grayson decides he’s going to start a conversation with you.

“Good,” you reply, the answer instinctive and an obvious lie.

You can feel his gaze on the side of your face, but you don’t dare return it.

“That’s good to hear,” he says, and his voice is gentle. Sort of infantilising if you’ll be honest.

While it is very clear to anyone who looks at you that you have no idea what you’re doing, you’d rather he didn’t bring it up. You’ll figure it out. You’ve always managed to figure it out. This is what you get for asking for help. Really, despite your momentary panic you could’ve taken George. Probably not physically, but…

“You can talk to me if you want, you know?”

“Can you stop the car, please?” you respond, when that question immediately activates your fight or flight response. Dick must notice something about you, because he quickly shoots forward and into a momentarily available parking spot.

You scramble with the door, shoving your way back out onto the asphalt. The immediate distinct smell of Gotham, even Gotham’s richer districts, calms you down. Sewage, the ocean, and the ever present smoke and fog.

Fuck’s sake. You aren’t making yourself look anymore well put together.

Clearing your throat, you turn and find Richard Grayson coming around the car hood towards you. There’s a worried look in his eyes, and you really don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like you made a deal with the devil. By getting rid of George, you’d gotten a new problem - and an infinitely more complicated one.

Shit, you need to stop making rash decisions when you’re having panic attacks. You’d say you should probably try and stop having panic attacks entirely, but you don’t really know how to do that.

The sound of your name has you snapping back to attention. Dick looks even more worried.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks, taking a few slow steps towards you. Again, infantilizing. Like you’re a wild animal about to run. Wait, weren’t you just comparing yourself to a chihuahua? Well, it’s not the same when other people do it.

“I’d like to take a walk,” you say, hand scrunching into your pyjama pants, “Alone, I’d like some time alone.”

“…In that?” He glances down at the stain that is slowly starting to dry. It’s making your skin itchy, but at least it’s not as cold.

“I can buy something,” you say, remembering one of the apps on your phone was connected to your bank account, which you had to assume was pretty full. It’s kind of stupid that you haven’t checked that yet.

You’re starting to feel a bit defensive towards your own intelligence. Maybe it’s because you seemingly keep making all the worst decisions.

Dick doesn’t make it any better.

“Do you have cash on you?” he asks, showing how little faith he has in your general abilities to survive as an adult in Gotham.

“I do, I’ll be fine,” you insist, because god damn it, you will be. You just need a fucking minute.

You ran from the Wayne manor because you felt like you were being watched, and then as soon as you showed up at the world’s most uncomfortable apartment, the haunting wraith known as George dragged you out in your P.J.s. You could figure it the fuck out, if these people would give you some fucking space.

Richard Grayson seems to realise that you’re getting upset, because he goes quiet for a moment. After staring at you for a moment longer, for which you manage to find the courage to maintain eye contact through pure stubborn will, he asks you one final question.

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride home or something?” he asks, still seeming so determined to help you.

His suggestion brings flashes of images of you breaking down in front of the Bruce Wayne to mind. From almost a birds eye view, you see yourself sobbing against your own ruined dress as the billionaire looked on. Bile literally jumps up your throat, and it takes a lot of willpower not to grimace at the suggestion.

“Look, Mr. Grayson, I really appreciate-”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me that.”

Once again, you feel the urge to simply sprint away from your own problems, but you manage to hold yourself still. Still, you can’t think of a solution. You can’t really think much of anything. Instead you stare at Richard Grayson with your hands threaded together and your lips pressed into a thin line.

Though you open your mouth to speak, you find you have no excuses ready or available. You’ve talked yourself into a corner already, and it’s your third day in this world. Marvellous. Maybe you should just tell the truth.

Still, the dangers outweigh the pros. They don’t know you, they don’t have any real reason to take care of you. If they believe you, they’ll toss you out onto the streets penniless. And if they don’t-

You blink. There’s a highway sign behind Dick, and it catches your attention like a lightning bolt. ‘Arkham Asylum 800 miles’. It’s white blocky letters on green panelling feels like a sign from god, warning you from the path you consider taking.

And then you realise that you might actually get sent to Arkham if you say anything, and you resolve to never tell a single soul about what has happened to you. You’ve heard enough stories about the asylum, and by god, you are not being roommates with the fucking Joker of all people.

Eventually Dick realises he’s not getting anything out of you and he sighs, shaking his head. His annoyingly perfect hair mesmerises you for a second, but you manage to wrangle your brain back under control. He really doesn’t make it easy.

“I just want to know if you’re safe. If you’re going through anything, you know we’re always happy to help-”

“Dick,” you say his name, face twisting in discomfort, “This was a… a one time thing. Usually I can handle my problems. It just… it caught me off guard. George cheating was a huge shock, and I needed someone to stand by me.”

“And you know I always will, right?”

Ah. That’s… Dick Grayson was a stranger. You didn’t know him, and more than that he did not know you. He did not know what you would do, could do. You didn’t think anyone did, not even yourself.

It’s a silly idea to expect your celebrity crush to save you, and it’s one you find you can’t stomach it at the moment. It makes you feel disgusted with yourself at the idea. It’s too indulgent, too silly. It’s very simply, not possible.

You’ve given up on relying on miracles. These lessons had been beaten into you, really. You didn’t want to have to learn them again.

Your feelings must show on your face.

Dick lets out a whoosh of air, frustration palpable. He carts his hand through his hair. It still looks perfect. The world is unfair, yadda yadda.

“You run hot and cold, you know?” he gives you a grin. It says a lot about his ability to act, seeing as it seems almost natural. Almost, being the key word.

Also, he is absolutely correct. The chihuahua effect is in full-swing. And you know what? You are probably going to continue to run hot and cold, because you’ve never made a decision in your life. He’ll just have to get used to it.

You raise your hands and shrug, in the universal ‘what-can-you-do?’ motion. He wasn’t wrong. You were being completely erratic. Not even you knew what you’d do next. At least life isn’t boring these days, right Right? You wonder who you are trying to fool, because it’s certainly not yourself.

“I’ll contact you if I need anything,” you lie, because it seems to be the right thing to end this torturous conversation, “And I’ll make sure to keep contact with Alfred. You can talk to Jeanine if you need anything, as well.”

Dick, unfortunately, calls you out on your bullshit.

“But not you, right?” he says, smile still printed on his face.

Woof. You think… you’ve hurt his feelings? Ah shit, you instantly feel like the scum of the earth. Still, you don’t know how you could fix this. Arkham is a genuine threat lingering over your shoulder, you don’t know enough about your new cut-throat billionaire world, and you can not lose any faith they have in you. Any that you have left, that is.

You’re sorry, but this is coming down to survival. And you are a greedy person, after all.

In the end, you don’t have anything to say, and Richard Grayson leaves without a word. Watching him walk towards his car, you feel… bad. Really bad. The part of you that is still crushing on this guy, a very large part of you, feels like you’ve ended the earth. The other part, the one that recognises that once again you’re going to have to fight for yourself… well, she thinks so too.

Maybe… maybe you could fix this. Apologise. Once you’ve gotten your bearings and know you’re safe and 100% financially stable, maybe you’ll figure it out. Give him his shirt back after you’ve dry-cleaned it.

For now, you give him your back as well.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

[daretoassume]

if you are always bothered by whatever is happening in your life, you will always remain a victim of your physical reality. perhaps, a specific solution did not occur, or your sp didn’t meet your expectation, or you still feel like the same person when you want to be something else, which leads to frustration.

if you want your reality to change, you cannot be constantly fazed by what you see outside, nor can you frequently check to see if any changes have happened. most likely, your mind has numerous ways to predict how it could happen, but you also cannot keep thinking about how your reality will unfold or think of ways that will catastrophize your desired reality.

"what do i need to focus on then?"

as long as you have that inner knowing that you are what you desire to be and are already in your desired reality, or at least believe that whatever you are experiencing only leads you to the reality you desire, then you don’t need to do anything except do what excites you every single day. even the simplest things, like making a coffee, watching your favorite show, or talking to your loved ones, can be enough. because you cannot always be watching other people's lives and expect your life to change in the way you prefer when you are not even doing anything to align your mind.

"i simply ignore all the facts of life – all that reason dictates all that my senses dictate, and i dare to assume that i am the man, or the woman, that I want to be. so, i no longer want to be it. i am it! and i walk in the assumption that i am it. then i command, by that assumption, the whole vast world to obey my will." ♱ you dare to assume, neville goddard

these days, i notice that as long as i focus on what i need to do and what i love to do, which is writing, i don’t feel the need to check all areas of my life for changes because i have the inner knowing that i already have my desires. if i constantly check my physical reality, it means i don't truly have it. clinging to my desires will only lead to frustration and attachment, so i focus on my own thing and know that living from the end is the way for me to realize my desires. if it's already done, then there's no need to think about them, check on them all the time.

our minds naturally wander, and this can affect our emotions when we are not aware of it. that is why it is important to stay grounded and centered so you can quickly catch yourself if you are entertaining beliefs or daydreams that you should not be thinking of. understand that if you assume you are already the person you desire to be, they would not have thoughts and beliefs that do not serve them. their natural thoughts and beliefs are divine.

[luckykiwiii101]

Heyhey

First of all,

Much love to you. I know you've helped a lot of people and on behalf of everyone you've helped..a big thank you!

I found something on reddit and it made everything just click in an instant. I'll put it at the end. (for some reason I can't link it) I am sending this to you in the hope that this will really help some people who feel lost.

Sidenote: I know it's basically what you and other blogs has been preaching about, but this is rephrased differently and may help some people understand and truly apply (and stop overconsuming lol)

I CANT BELIEVE IT TOOK ME ALL THIS TIME TO FINALLY GET IT…  Tips & Techniques I’ve known about the Law of Assumption for almost four years, and now I finally get it. I always thought that when I closed my eyes to imagine something, it was my false self—let’s call her Ella—doing the imagining and experiencing the desire. But that’s not true. Ella only exists in the physical realm; she’s just another object in awareness. The one who’s really imagining is awareness itself—God, consciousness—the only thing that truly exists. Now I understand why imagination is immediate and real. It’s not Ella’s creation because she has no access to awareness. Ella’s role is confined to the 3D world. Her job is to make sense of life through logic, past experiences, and sensory input. So, when I imagine something, Ella can’t “see” it because imagination operates in the realm of awareness, not the physical. This is why thoughts like “Where is it?” or “It’s not working” arise—they’re just Ella panicking because she didn’t witness the creation happen. Ella is fixated on time and the physical world, so she doubts anything beyond her perception. But her panic doesn’t mean anything because she’s not the one imagining. She’s not capable of understanding or influencing what exists in awareness. This realization leaves no excuse not to trust my imagination. Imagination is beyond Ella’s capabilities, and its reality is not dependent on her understanding. This isn’t an invitation to hate or fight Ella—it’s about recognizing her limitations and letting her be. When I notice my mind being logical or thinking doubtful thoughts, I can let them pass because that’s just Ella doing her job. There’s no need to argue with or control her because it’s like bullying a blind person for not being able to see. She simply can’t perceive what’s happening in awareness, and that’s okay. Let her do her thing, knowing it doesn’t matter. The real work is already done in imagination, which is the realm of the infinite.

Someone answered:

Yup, Ella is herself a manifestation of consciousness and there is only consciousness. We think we are Ella, when we are consciousness, perceiving things through Ella's perspective. Good job. And that's exactly why manifestation is instant, the moment awareness becomes aware of something through your imagination, it happens. Because everything is awareness. You already are living that reality from the moment you imagined it. Ella will keep thinking. You need to not react to those thoughts or feelings of Ella, observe them, take care of Ella when she feels down but laugh a little at her naivety. Most people imagine and forget that they're not Ella but consciousness and become aware of something else by giving attention to Ella's limited perspective but guess what? Ella is a well behaved child, she will learn as soon as you discipline her. Her thoughts would slowly get on board too and so will the feelings. So let Ella be, don't react to her thoughts and emotions and become aware of something that's not what you want

People need to read this!!! Thank you so much for sharing!!

[neptunes-sol-angel]

What do people romanticize about you? What do people villainize you for? Find out in this pick a card about your wicked truth 🫧🧹

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Pile One

What do people romanticize about you?

The way that you look reigns a binding effect. Your body, facial features, or even your energetic presence creates the assumption in a person’s mind that you can heal them. Your physical features could emanate an image of luxuriance that makes people want to acquire you in order to gain something more in their life. It’s prepossessing in a way that replenishes people on a berserk level of favorableness. The way that they see good in you is the same way that you are able to see the good in people, even when they don’t deserve it. When you are open to others and are at your happiest, it can be intoxicating to the people around you. The abundance around you reflects in the way that you are giving to others, so the people who feel a sense of envy over what you were born with and how you carry yourself, they mistake your generosity for something that is entirely theirs and what they’re entitled to. People romanticize you in a way where they see you as an extension of themselves. I’m picking up that this can be through your beauty and body, the resources that you have, the support or popularity that you gain, and in your ability to comfort and provide for others.

What do people villainize about you?

I feel like people in this pile are aware of how damaging this kind of romanticization is, even if people feel like you should be flattered. People villainize you for acknowledging it for what it is. Objectification. What comes to my mind when describing this energy as is a “prude’s worst nightmare” and the character “Eve” from the movie “Igor”. When you step out of this role of being polished and when you use your abilities for your own reasons instead of being under someone else’s terms, intent, and timing, you become terrifying. People will villainize you because of the suspense they feel over what you will do next. A sexual person isn’t deemed a “whore” until they consider their pleasure and wants. A person that doesn’t know any better is beneficial to another individual until they do know better and go towards it. Youth becomes bastardized when the future doesn’t turn out like what our elders intended. A magician becomes a witch when their spirituality doesn’t liken to smoke and mirrors. All of these examples share something in common in what makes someone a threat, which is being a person who knows and understands that they are free. The true villain here is perception and your capability of continuing to walk away from situations that keep you stuck from making use of what was given to you for a reason. Embrace your seductive prowess. If you’re the generational curse breaker in your family, don’t allow the people before you to hijack what you’ve been guided to do with your life because it doesn’t embody “the struggle” or what greatness looks like. Your personal connection to a higher power will always threaten a person who believes that they’re the center of the universe and that is why expansion in your life from the magic that surrounds you will be seen as a loss for them.

What is your wicked truth?

The energy that people sense from you is maternal but is viewed and approached in a skewed manner because most people underestimate it as something that is one-dimensional. Maternal energy is only seen as something meant to be given to others when it’s actually about affluence. People will try to position you into the role of a caretaker, parent, leader, spouse, but the truth is that your power to create, is in whatever path that you have decided for yourself. If it does look like becoming a parent and raising children, then that’s absolutely fine, but don’t succumb to the narrative that creation or fertility is limited to only one thing or under someone else’s vision. Assume a role because you want to, not because of what’s pressured onto you. Especially when you decide to break free from being someone who is always thinking about everyone else but yourself. It’s going to piss people off, but it isn’t your responsibility to mother their anger or what they’re searching for within them. What people are really seeking from your energy is your intensity. When you come from a place of love or carry a lot of it in you and around you, it attracts people who desire unconditional love from the wrong places. When your knowledge and talent is incredible, it attracts people who lack it but swear up and down that they’ll know how to work your own potential better than you do. When you constantly generate unorthodox ideas, the people shunning you for it are secretly planning on how they can capitalize off of the voguish complexity that you exude naturally. Allow the abundance that you create to be for yourself, instead of letting people weaponize you to suit their apprehension to evolving from places that they’re not in anymore. Your wicked truth is that you decide the person that you want to be and that you need to be more picky with how and who you choose to expend your energy on. You have to be stronger than what people say about you when you start to advocate for yourself and the main thing that I want people in the pile to take from this message, is to not let people placate you by thinking that they can take credit for the person that you are and what you’re capable of doing. Your identity is only perversed when you live outside of your self concept trying to fit in other people’s lives. Be the main character in yours.

Pile Two

What do people romanticize about you?

People romanticize your chaos. They seek the things you wish to not have and the unwanted attention that you get. I’m picking up themes around money, gifts, masculine figures with influence, and lust being drawn towards you. When those who can’t relate to you see this, they view it as something enviable because you appear to be well taken care of, but you actually see this as a nuisance. You trigger obsession in your close or intimate relationships and in strangers. I’m seeing a lot from people who know you but you have no idea who they are or if you can recall even interacting with them. I’m sorry, but I keep interpreting this energy from those that romanticize you, as people who are not used to anything, so they want everything. If you’ve experienced a person or multiple people having a fatal like attraction towards you, especially with the lingering theme of obsession, they see it as something cool, and as a scenario that “isn’t all bad” because they focus too much on what they think you’re benefiting from it, such as being “desired”, money, “protection”, or being in a position of not having to worry about material lack. If you come from some form of generational wealth, or have a parent that appears to have a lot of money, people could romanticize it, instead of paying attention to how that inherited wealth comes with another price that you have to pay, such as your freedom or mental peace. Some people in this pile may have an experience with their haters cyberstalking them. I’m sensing through anonymous accounts or accounts from people who were supposed to be your friends or supporters who are secretly judging you and waiting for their moment to pick you apart directly. Overall, this pile is dealing with some sort of situation that puts you in distress, but other people are seeing it as a blessing. They have delusions over the toxicity that you face in your life. 

What do people villainize about you?

People villainize your reluctance to see things the way that others do. They view this indifference as ungratefulness, which triggers this venomous vitriol that they have against you. I just got a headache which confirms how unpleasant these people are around you. They want to drill into your head to change your mind about things and you just will not conform to that and they resent you for it. People could view you as someone sick or in need of help because they think that you don’t see things for what they really are. I’m getting so annoyed by this, because it’s mainly situations where they’re speaking on what they see, instead of everything that you’re feeling, seeing, and actually receiving. When you’re not silent about your discomfort or when you unveil illusions, that is when you’re villainized the most. I’m hearing this viral audio clip “He’s a good man Savannah”. I see that your discernment in relationships and in your career is sharp. You’re phenomenal at detecting and protecting yourself from controlling individuals, but people could think that you’re being paranoid and that you’re somehow sabotaging yourself. The people who tend to make you the villain, are complicating their lives because they’re too busy wanting yours. They’re free to go after what it is that you don’t want, but they’d rather bully you into choices that they can’t fathom themselves rejecting.

What is your wicked truth?

Your wicked truth is that you do not have to accept things because they are valued by another person. You do not have to jump at every opportunity that calls for you nor do you have to answer it. There are lessons that you can learn from the people who villainize you. They are trying to sway you into a scarce mindset, because they live their lives thinking that the only way to get justice is by taking what you can get from this world instead of chasing bigger. And honestly, “bigger” is really the bare minimum. Don’t let people bully you into staying with abusive people or situations that don’t make you happy and respected. There is negativity that comes with being ungrateful, but there is also negativity that comes with support. It’s not always promising to depend on someone for something, especially a controlling person. I don’t know who needs to hear this, but you deserve a love that doesn’t wane and isn’t confusing. You deserve safety without having to owe someone something. Another lesson to learn from the people who villainize you, is that at some point, you do need to detract from your fear of being seen. Not in a way that feeds into the drama, but in a way that makes you stop being avoidant of being as you are. Transmute a hater’s energy into your favor. Envision those eyes as motivation to keep strutting your stuff to really give them something to watch, which is a person who isn’t afraid to not settle for crumbs because it shows up at their doorstep. Walk over those bitches. You don’t need anyone’s attention, because you are attention. Remember that.

Pile Three

What do people romanticize about you?

I’m getting that people romanticize your “childlike wonder”. Your ability to be eternal. I’m actually hearing that people actually romanticize the way that YOU romanticize life. You guys could be very holistic and spiritual. Very in tune with the esoteric view of the world and how we operate in society. People love your wisdom, could even be addicted to it, because it’s cogent. It calms the mind, it makes them open their eyes to see what’s actually there in front of them and how they can build from situations that initially look like there's nothing to gain from it. Your energy is whimsical. People romanticize it, because it’s like “Hakuna Matata”, “Fuck it, We Ball”, or in other words “no worries”. You’re psychic, whimsical, and also indulgent. You guys are like pile one, but the aura from this pile seems more boundless. People around you could see you as either a good influence or a bad influence because of this. The degree to which you show your optimism could make people feel like you’re bragging, but somehow, it stuns people, because it appears like you’re never checked for it. There’s like a force or a circumstance that backs up exactly what you’re confident about. A LOT of jupiter and neptune energy here. People are drawn to you because of the way you gamble with your life (I know that sounds scary, but that’s exactly what I mean when I say that y’all are risk takers). Your influence is either just very loved or despised because what I really get here is that people love the way that you romanticize them, because being around you makes them feel like they don’t have to be accountable. There’s no strict authority to tell them “no”. Your influence if people don’t place boundaries, could make people fall into psychosis, debt, or some form of imprisonment. You guys remind me of Gojo from Jujutsu Kaisen.

What do people villainze about you?

I actually want to bring clarity about what I was interpreting in the first part of this reading. I get that a lot of you aren’t really telling these people to do things to hurt them. It’s just that people have so much trust in what you say or the person that you are, but will distort and take in too much of the examples that you make in life or the insight that you give. What makes people upset over you, is your popularity. How you can say something, and people will run with whatever narrative. People villainize you because they feel you’re a person who has too much power, even when you’re just breathing. People could want to silent you because of how much magnetism is in your words or how you challenge beliefs. I also see that people can villainize you for not enacting a role of the pedestal that they placed you on. Let’s say that you withdraw yourself socially, because you don’t want people analyzing every single thing that you say or do, and you don't want to be in the spotlight or in a leadership position because you don’t want to be responsible for everyone and blamed for what goes wrong. This could anger people because they see this as cowardice when they perceive you as someone who’s confident or someone who inspires them to rebel against something or they want to hear more of your thoughts. It’s like a damn if you do, damn if you don’t kind of situation. People villainize you when they feel like you’ve let them down in some way.

What is your wicked truth?

Your wicked truth is that you need to release guilt from mistakes that you have made. You’ve done the work, you’ve analyzed more than enough what went wrong and how you could change while backing it up with action. It’s time to move on and continue being happy, not because it makes other people happy and inspired, but because you deserve to experience your joy and tap into your inner child again. To imagine and have fun instead of feeling like you’re responsible for everyone. This could look like codependency. You have to lean into individualism more. You need to place more boundaries with people who deify you so that you can relax and no longer immobilize yourself because you feel like you only bring destruction. You don’t destroy things or people and you’re not a nuisance. You’re not anyone’s enemy, even to the people who villainize you. Their perception of you is their problem and something that they need to work on, because 9/10, they don’t know you well enough to speak on what your intentions are. You mean well, and that is why the love will always outweigh the hate. You’re appreciated and listened to for a reason but always remember that you’re still human. You don’t have to be perfect because people want to see you as perfect. And just because you’re not perfect doesn’t mean that you aren’t qualified to help and lead others. Awareness and treating others with care is always a must, but the point of this pile is for you and the others around you to learn balance. Too much positivity is just as bad as too much negativity.