#i can read in peace but i also tried really hard to be a real person and make friends w my coworkers ... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

55sturn · 10 months ago

Text

✮ OH, BABYDOLL.

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis: in which a night of drunken celebration between matt and his best friend turns into something more, something they both yearned for.

warnings: swearing, alcoholic consumption, making out, use of y/n, slightly suggestive (?) touching, pet name [doll], drunk confessions.

THIRD PERSON POV

everyone has someone in their life that they’ll never really get over, whether it be an ex friend, or an ex lover, there’s always going to be lingering feelings for that person. for matt, it was his best friend.

at first he figured that he was only attracted to her physically and sexually because he was pent up. so the day he noticed that he kept checking her out, he sent a text to an ex hookup and got the job done. but the next day, he was backing to wanting her in such an animalistic and carnal way that it was hard to be around without all the blood rushing from his head to somewhere else.

but the longer his attraction went on, the more confused he ended up. he searched for her in every room, after every joke he told in hopes that he’d find her laughing. he began immediately seeking her the moment he’d step into the house after a rough day.

he realized it became something more when he found himself driving to her apartment complex without prior announcement the moment he received good news about his yesterday’s problem project.

he realized it became something more when he crafted journals for his own personal brand based off the journal she carried with her everywhere.

and he realized that he’s never really wanted anyone the way he’s wanted her, and once that was revealed to him, he tried to move on. he dated girls far and few in between, and none of them never really ignited the flame that lay dormant in the pit of his stomach the way y/n did. other girls never stirred up the butterflies that lay peaceful in his chest every time he was away from her.

he realized that he was fucked. he loved you and there no changing that.

so when he began noticing that she seemed so different after starting her new assistant job, he begged her to quit. it changed her into a dull shell of the lively, bright, and happy person she was. he really believed that it had caused her to lose that sparkle in her personality that made her everything he loved, and honestly he loved her regardless, he just missed her bubbly personality. he had noticed that even her eyes seemed dull.

when you called him later in the day, muttering something along the lines of “i didn’t think the day would come but it did and i don’t have to get up at nearly five in the morning tomorrow!” he couldn’t fully make out the words because of how jumbled you become whenever you’re excited.

“doll, you’re getting all jumbled again, can you repeat that?” he hummed, the pet name you knew all too well that still managed to have the tips of your ears turning pink and hot slipping from his lips, sounding sickeningly sweet. he started calling you doll not too long after you guys met, every time he picked you up when he asked to hangout, you’d come out singing babydoll by dominic fike because it was a song you were obsessed with, but the real reason behind was the night you guys met at some party, you were wearing a cropped raglan style baby tee that read babydoll in the iconic bratz font. the sleeves and collar were bright pink, and the text matched.

he felt that calling you “babydoll” made him sound a bit too much like a boyfriend, so from then on, he coined that nickname “doll”, and it stirred up a sweet and delicate feeling in your chest but it also caused your head to fall fuzzy to the utmost dangerous thoughts about your best friend.

but honestly, you were entranced with the sentimental feeling that bloomed in your chest every time he spoke the nickname.

“i said,” you start, dragging out the “a” as you turn on to his street, “that the day where i quit my job has finally come! so i’m outside because we’re gonna go to some bar or club and celebrate. that’s why i told you to get ready earlier and order an uber.”

“holy shit i cant believe you actually did it!”

“same now get the fuck out here!” you giggled, ending the call and climbing out of your car, waiting against the driver’s door as matt stepped outside, making quick strides over to you, and pulling you into a hug as the uber he ordered came into view.

the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, not wanting to talk about too much with a stranger in the car, knowing very well it could fall on the wrong ears when another passenger climbs into that very seat.

you were beginning to question whether or not getting drunk with matt was a good idea, you had been harbouring so many things directed toward him for the last little while, and you were about to combust. you knew that if you had even the tiniest bit of liquid courage in you, your deepest secrets would come tumbling out like word vomit.

as if matt could sense your worry, he placed a hand on your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh as if to say “you’re okay.” and in all honesty, you were both convinced you each had a sixth sense when it came to one another, you could easily read matt and figure out what he was feeling or thinking after a split second of looking at him, and vice versa. your internal spiral was cut short as yours and matt’s favourite club came into view.

you both quickly thanked your uber, giving him a perfect rating before making your way into the club.

“what are we drinking first, doll?” matt hums, however his words fell on vacant ears, you couldn’t stop yourself from zoning out on the way he looked tonight, his shoulders look broad and defined beneath the dark muscle tee he wore, and the pants he paired his shirt with were your favourite pair of anything he owned. they were his black carhartt carpenter pants, paired with his notorious key ring attached to the belt loop, and his white airforces. matt noticed the way you were watching him, and he couldn’t help but feel a surge of confidence flow through his veins.

“huh?” you sputter, finally meeting his eyes with your face turning a deep pink, but you were glad the strobe lights in the club were red.

“what are we drinking first?”

“i need a shot of tequila and a vodka redbull.”

“make that two shots, a vodka redbull for her, and i’ll just have a jack and coke.” matt calls to the bartender, having to raise his voice over the loud music and chatter surrounding the bar. once again, as you wait for your drinks, you finding yourself falling into deep concentration, unable to tear your eyes from matt as he leans against the bar. matt turns to hand you your shot, only to find you roughly feeding half of your bottom lip between your teeth, your stare vacant but determined.

“doll, you’re gonna split your lip, stop doing that.” he murmurs, loud enough for only you to hear as he presses his thumb against your lip, pulling it from your teeth, slowly becoming hypnotized by the way it recoils back into its natural pout.

“sorry, the realization of everything is settling in you know?”

“that’s why we’re gonna take our shots, chug our drinks, order more shots, and then dance.”

“matthew sturniolo? offering to dance before anyone else? did i trip and fall into an alternate universe?”

“shut up.” he laughs, downing his shot after clinking his glass against yours, and once again you’re entranced by him, watching the way his adam’s apple bobs slowly as he swallows, finding it incredibly attractive how he hardly makes a face after the shot is gone. before he can meet your stare, you down your shot, followed by your drink, getting rid of both quite quickly, and ordering two more shots for you and matt.

about an hour passes, and you’re both quite tipsy as you dance and scream along to the music, laughing at the moves you both pull out, not caring if anyone sees or judges. but you’re about to tap matt on the shoulder to tell him you’re going to order another, when babydoll comes on. you’re shocked to say the least, it’s not really a clubbing song but you’re thanking whatever being above compelled the dj to play it. matt watches you dance along to your favourite song with a dazed grin, his eyes beginning to become hooded as the alcohol takes over his body.

as you’re singing along, you make eye contact with him and it feels as id the entire world stops, like time was standing still as you slowly gravitate toward him. you’re watching him with through rose coloured glasses as his hands fall to your hips, pulling you flush against him with your hands on his shoulders, and rocking your bodies back and forth. the heat emanating from his palms against your hips and lower back makes your head spin in the best way as you lean in close, your lips ghosting over his as you mumble the words,

“oh babydoll, i cant move on.”

the words almost act as if they’re an unspoken confession, because matt’s nodding along to your words, understanding the underlying meaning behind them. and matt humming the next line, his lips pressing just the slightest bit more against yours, and you’re understanding everything he’s implying.

what started out as an innocent celebration between you two, has now become a flustered mess, your lips are so close, and yet neither of you are ready to cross that line as the next song begins playing, and it’s a raunchy and filthy song, making the moment all the more erotic.

“i need to kiss you, matt.” you whisper against his lips, the torture of having them so close yet so far was causing your head to spin, and you couldn’t wait anymore. and as if to tease you more, matt’s tongue darts between his lips, wetting them, the tip of it brushing ever so slightly against yours. and he couldn’t help smirk as your eyes flutter shut at the smallest amount of contact. and all your self will goes out the window as you hook your fingers around his silver chain, tugging his lips completely against yours, your mouths moving in sync as you reach the moment you’ve been craving since you met matt.

the kiss is sloppy, warm, and extremely hot. it was a mess of clashing teeth, spit swapping, and tangled tongues. matt’s the first to pull away, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth ever so gently, loving the way it bounces back. he loves everything about your lips, the fullness, the shape, and god their shade of pink drives him crazy.

“you don’t know how long i’ve wanted that, doll.” his whispers, his voice think with want and fulfillment as he stares down at you, his left hand moving from your hip to your jaw, his thumb resting against your lip as you smile at him.

“i think i have an idea because i’ve wanted it just as long, matty.”

the two of you don’t break too far apart for the rest of the night, allowing yourselves to sit comfortably in the purgatory of staying the same or indulging in something more that you’ve turned your friendship into. you’re sure to regret letting yourself give so easily into wrecking your friendship with him in the morning, but right now, you couldn’t be bothered, especially not after finally kissing him because right now, all you want to do is keep kissing him. the way his lips fit against yours has almost become addictive, loving the way his lips taste slightly like your lip glass with remnants of coke and rum.

you weren’t sure how you were going to navigate the new change, but what did know was that you were going to be utterly fucked when you wake up tomorrow and remember that you made out with matt.

taglist: @dylsdunbar @verosivy @florcult @flynnriderishot @33sturniolo @sugrhigh @rootbeerworshiper @soursturniolo @spencerstits @meanttomeet @bluesturniolo333 @graciereid @abbie13sworld @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @mylifeisevenstranger @bethsturn @ifilwtmfc @themattgirl @lovingmattysposts @lacysturniolo @freshloveee @fawnchives @cindylcuwho @freshloveforthefit @freshsturns @forevergirlposts @sturniolo-fav-matt @cupidsword @lustfulslxt @sturnifyed @teapartyprincess4two @mangosrar @querenciasturniolo @pinklittleflower @ellie-luvsfics @strniolo @junnniiieee07 @hearts4chris @evie-sturns @nicksmainbitch @gnxosblog @sturniolopepsi @wronqness99 @sturniolossss @hesvoid3434 @mattsfavwh3re @inlovewithmattstur @melanch0lybby

#Spotify #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo oneshots #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo oneshots

460 notes · View notes

nahoney22 · 5 months ago

Note

might i request f! jedi reader comforting tech after her death as a force ghost as he mourns her?

i saw the rule of 'no major character death' and im not sure if this falls under it, so if it does, sorry! love your stuff

Death Is Just A Word*** 🌊

🫧 Pairings: Tech X Jedi!FemaleReader

word count: 1.4k

prompts: none

When everything gets too much for Tech, he finds himself entering a forest to relive his stress and emotions. He just didn’t know that his fallen Jedi will be there to meet him.

Warnings: death warning, heavy angst, comfort, reader is a Jedi who has died via sacrifice, mourning, can be a platonic or romantic relationship, Tech fears failure and is emotional, can also be read as gender neutral.

The Marauder was a mess of tension. Failed mission after failed mission, constant arguments over strategy, and a void in the team’s dynamic that no one could ignore. Every time they fell short, Tech felt the sting deeper than he ever let on. The others thought his frustrations were just his usual pursuit of perfection. They didn’t realise it was the gnawing guilt beneath the surface; a guilt that whispered it was his fault you were gone.

You had sacrificed yourself for them a month ago, throwing yourself into the path of certain death to save them all, especially him. Tech had replayed that moment a thousand times. Each calculation, every step, and the single flaw in his plan that led to your choice. No matter how much he tried to logically categorise his grief, he couldn’t find a solution that brought him any peace.

Now, every corner of the Marauder reminded him of your absence. Your datapad still lay in the corner of the cockpit, untouched since that day. No one had dared to move it. It was absurd, really. Tech wasn’t one to let sentimentality interfere with logic, but there it was: an irrational need to leave your things as they were, as if by doing so, he could somehow preserve a piece of you.

One night, it all became too much. After yet another mission gone wrong, with tempers flaring and his mind buzzing with thoughts he couldn’t stop, Tech couldn’t stay aboard the ship. The tightening in his chest, the erratic pounding of his heart—these feelings were new and unnerving. He was usually so controlled, his emotions filed away in neatly ordered compartments, but now they were spilling over in ways he couldn’t manage.

“I need a break,” he muttered, barely audible to the others. He didn’t wait for a response before heading down the ramp and disappearing into the darkness of the nearby forest.

The cool night air felt suffocating as he stumbled deeper into the woods, branches snagging at and clawing at his battered armour. Tech’s mind raced familiar patterns of calculations and probabilities that were now distorted by flashes of grief, anger, and regret. His breath hitched, the sharp ache in his chest refusing to go away. The weight of it drove him to his knees, collapsing against a tree as he buried his face in his hands.

“Why can’t I just… process this?” he whispered to himself, voice trembling with frustration. He was supposed to be the logical one, the one who could solve anything. But how could he solve the emptiness left by someone who wasn’t supposed to be gone?

The forest was silent, save for the rustling of leaves in the wind. And then, something else.

“Tech.”

His head shot up at the sound of your voice. No, it wasn’t possible. He was hallucinating, his mind frayed by exhaustion and grief. But then he heard it again, softer, more familiar.

“Tech, darling. Look at me.”

Tentatively, he lifted his gaze. There, just a few steps away, was your figure, glowing faintly in the moonlight. You looked as you always had—serene, your eyes filled with the quiet understanding that had once brought him comfort. But there was something ethereal, otherworldly about you now, your form shimmering like mist.

He blinked hard, certain he was imagining things. “This this is not real,” he muttered, his voice laced with desperation. “You can not be here.”

“Maybe not in the way you’re used to,” you replied, that familiar teasing lilt in your tone as you fold your arms over your chest. “But I’m still here.”

Tech took a step closer, bewildered. “I was under the impression that only Force-sensitive beings could perceive Force ghosts.”

You simply smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”

He stared at you, his mind racing even more, trying to find the answer that fit the parameters of what he understood. But there was no logical explanation, no way to rationalise why he, a mere ‘defective’ Clone, could see you. He was about to press further when the weight of his unresolved emotions crashed over him again, overriding his curiosity.

The confusion morphed into anger as he shook his head. “You sacrificed yourself. You… you did not have to do that. You could have stayed. I would have found another way.” His voice cracked on the last words, frustration and grief intertwining in his chest.

You laughed softly, the sound light despite the tension in the air. “Oh, you’re upset with me? That’s rich. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re ungrateful.”

“Ungrateful?” He stared at you incredulously, his logical mind struggling to keep up with the emotions crashing over him as you teased him. “Do you think I wanted you to throw your life away? We needed you—I needed you!”

Your gaze softened, and you took a step closer, though the distance between you still felt insurmountable. “I made my choice because I care about you all. Because I care about you. It’s what a Jedi does. I am to protect those I care about, even if it means sacrificing something precious.”

Tech clenched his fists, struggling with the reality of seeing you again, with the overwhelming mixture of relief, anger, and loss. “I really miss you,” he whispered, voice barely above a breath. “I keep trying to carry on like I always do, but nothing feels right without you. I can not focus. I can not summarise reasons as to why the missions have been failing. I can’t-.”

“Not everything can be calculated, Tech. Sometimes, you have to trust what you feel.”

You reached out, your hand hovering just above his chest, over his heart. “I’m still here, Tech. Not in the way you want, I know. But as long as you carry me with you, I’ll always be a part of you.” Your gaze was steady as you met his eyes. “It’s okay to miss me. It’s okay to grieve. But don’t forget that I believed in you—just as you are. You don’t have to solve everything.”

A single tear slipped down his cheek, and for once, he didn’t hide it. “You always had a way of getting under my skin, making me feel things I didn’t think I could,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “I never got the chance to tell you what you meant to me.”

Your smile turned wistful. “I already knew, Tech. I always knew.”

He swallowed hard, his gaze turning pleading. “I know it is no longer physically possible, but I wish I could hug you. I never got to when you were alive.”

The pain in your eyes mirrored his as you shook your head slowly. “I wish you could, too. But I’m afraid you won’t be able to feel me.” You looked down at your hand, as if willing it to bridge the gap between you. “This is as close as we can get now.”

Tech’s shoulders sagged with the weight of that truth. He wanted so badly to reach out, to feel the warmth of your presence again, but all he could do was hold onto the memory. “I don’t know how to do this without you,” he admitted, his voice subtly breaking.

“You’re stronger than you think,” you said softly. “Trust in yourself, just like I trusted you all these years. And when it feels too heavy, remember that I’m still right here, where it matters most.” Your hand, still hovering near his chest, flickered slightly, as if you were fading.

He nodded slowly, unable to find the words as he watched your form begin to dim. “I will try.”

Your figure shimmered in the moonlight, a final, lingering smile gracing your lips. “Goodbye, Tech. Until we meet again.”

And just like that, you were gone, leaving him alone in the darkness of the forest, the echoes of your words lingering in the stillness. But for the first time in weeks, the silence wasn’t as unbearable. There was a small comfort in knowing that you were still with him, in some way, in the space that mattered most.

As he stood there under the canopy of stars, Tech wiped away the tear that had escaped, a quiet resolve settling in his chest. He wasn’t alone. You had made sure of that, even in death.

And somehow, he found the strength to take a deep breath and walk back toward the Marauder, where the others were waiting. For the first time since losing you, he allowed himself to believe that he can move forward.

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets s @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot t @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder r @the-bad-batch-baroness @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @photogirl894 @lulalovez @green-alm0nd

#tech Tuesday #but make it sad #the bad batch #tbb #tech bad batch #nahoney22 writes #bad batch tech x reader #tech x reader #tbb tech #tbb tech x reader #bad batch #bad batch tech

150 notes · View notes

krispycreamcake · 6 months ago

Text

Laito Sakamaki bf headcanons♤♤

🃏- Ok so uhhhhh let's all just be honest with ourselves

🃏- I really really do enjoy his character and its development, but this man would not exactly be the best boyfriend

🃏- Obviously all diaboys have their extremely toxic flaws, so I'm gonna be as unbiased as I can and give him a worthy depiction

🃏- Depending on your personality and how you've acted towards him, I see him as someone who usually seeks out your comfort in trying times

🃏- It's moments like these where he's so unaccustomed to being vulnerable that he'll have a slight panic attack that you'll betray him

🃏- Luckily however, the more your relationship grows, the less that feeling will be there, but it will definitely take time

🃏- He's definitely asked you to shower with him multiple times, but for different reasons

🃏- Like sometimes he's genuinely so at peace to finally be naked and not hate himself after, or to share something so intimate with you that isn't sex

🃏- Let's be real, sex isn't something special for him, it's just a regular Saturday night

🃏- But knowing that he gets to share it for the first time in his life with someone who he feels safe around, is something he can get behind

🃏- Has you sit on his lap while you both do crossword puzzles together

🃏- Doesn't seem like the type who enjoys making big meals, so he prefers to take you out to eat if it's a special occasion

🃏- Honestly loves talking to you late at night(?) Or morning or whatever it is

🃏- He enjoys the honesty of the conversations and the fact that he doesn't need to see through you, you're just reading to him the pages of your mind

🃏- Watches shows like NCIS, Law and Order, Dexter, etc. He begssss you to watch it with him and catches you up to speed with the episodes

🃏- Realistically, he doesn't always want to cuddle and be in your space. Some nights he just needs time alone for whatever reason and teases you when you get lonely

🃏- Extremely clingy when he's having a hard time keeping his mask on so he tries to play it off as just his normal behaviour (if you know him well enough, you'd immediately catch on)

🃏- Give him well thought out gifts and he'll start planning your future together

🃏- Talks about growing old together and having kids

🃏- Speaking of, you're not dying to old human age on his watch. Whether you want to become a vampire or not, he will turn you into one, you are not leaving his side

🃏- Dry ass texts when he's fully awake and long ass convos when he's about to pass out

🃏- Helps you learn how to play sudoku but will purposely give you wrong tips the first time around so he can flaunt how good he is

🃏- Doesn't understand why you like it when he wears his glasses and insists he looks like an otaku

🃏- Late night walks away from the manor so you both can moon gaze and enjoy the serenity of nature

🃏- One time when Ayato bit you, you insisted that instead of causing drama, he try something more civil (He put laxatives in his Gatorade before a basketball match against another school)

🃏- Also on a related note, really enjoys pranking you and encourages you to prank him back

🃏- For some reason I can imagine him getting really into butterflies and their anatomy. I personally think he has his own sketchbook where he draws them and makes notes on the different species

🃏- Loves to fly kites, he does not care whether you're with him or not, will fly a kite because why not

🃏- Watches mukbangs with you and even chooses the next couple videos

🃏- Jokes about you starting an OF, but had a nightmare that your dream partner found you and whisked you away from him like a prince in shinning armour

🃏- He enjoys playing hand games with you. Yeah idk why I thought about this but it seems to fit

🃏- Enjoys seeing you wear modest clothes. Not because he's picturing the underneath, but he knows you're gorgeous because you can pull being modest AND being naked off

🃏- Wants a Shiba Inu as a pet someday

🃏- He really tries to love you even if he does hurt you from time to time

#diabolik lovers laito #diabolik boys #diabolik lovers x reader #laito sakamaki #anime x reader #ayato sakamaki #diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers shu #diabolik lovers subaru #fanfic #dialovers laito #laito x reader #dialovers fandom #diabolik lovers reiji #dialovers #diabolik lovers kanato #headcanon #diabolik lovers fandom #diabolik lovers fanfiction

333 notes · View notes

closer-to-jungkook · 24 days ago

Text

Esati | Ch 1

Pairing: Mercenary!Jungkook x ?? Female!Reader

Summary: When past comes knocking on your door wearing the face of unknown dangers, you can either refuse acknowledging it and be a sitting duck or find out what it was that turned your world upside down all those years ago—that has come back yet again to hunt you—with a stranger promising to keep you safe, by your side. One thing is sure: secrets will unfold. And it would not be anything you could've imagined.

Word Count: 8.4k

Genre: Fantasy au; adventure; action. Fluff; angst; future smut(??)

Rating: 18+ (violence and mature themes)

Warnings: Fighting ig. Not much for this chapter

Published: 18th December 2024

A/n: well look who's here. I finally completed the first chapter!! It was actually longer than this but I cut some parts since it seemed better that way. I guess that means the next chapter will come out earlier, I have more than half of it already written.

I really have a good feeling about this story, I have it all mapped out so if anyone is wondering if I will complete this or not then rest assured that no matter what I will for sure finish this! A special thank you to my friend Jae for cheering me on (you're the real one Jan I love you)

I'm really looking forward to y'alls response to this, I hope you enjoy reading it🤍

A/n 2: I thought I'd post it tomorrow but I don't want to wait so here it goes. I'm posting it at the 2 in the morning. Hope you enjoy. Hope I didn't make any mistakes.

Moodboard

Map and Glossary

Esati Masterlist

They say winter is cruel. Harsh and unforgiving. Anyone unfortunate enough to encounter it at its worst seldom survives it. It only knows how to take, how to steal—the warmth from your blood, the hope in your eyes, the life from your soul. The white snow spread like a blanket over the lands and waters alike: beautiful yet a warning of destruction for all.

All but one. Alastair has found no comfort other than these sharp winds and freezing soils in a long time. He took in a deep breath of peace, something he hadn't had the pleasure of for days—or had it been weeks?

It's been so long since he started his travels. Traveller. He liked calling himself that, much better than introducing himself as someone who's being hunted.

It's been so long; being on the run didn't grant him a minute of peace, but now he could feel a stillness in his mind. A quiet, which only came from knowing no eyes were following him anymore.

He walked higher up the mountains; the path was rocky and difficult to climb, but he managed even in his current state. It also ensured that had anyone been on his trail, he'd have easily known.

But as much as these snowy mountains were liberating to his mind, his body was not in the same condition. After being chased, hunted, and hurt, his body was battered and starting to feel more numb with each passing hour.

A final feeling washed over his mind. Like he knew it was coming. He was dying.

And it seemed fitting. Appropriate. Considering there wasn't anything left for him to do. He fulfilled his duty and played his part in the play of universe, for which he was chosen by Cianbhàta himself. After all, he hadn't escaped for his own safety. It was something greater than his existence that needed to be protected.

But now, he could sense it. His time was up.

No. No, he couldn't die like this. Not yet.

It felt selfish of him to still be holding on to this useless life. He tried hard, convinced himself it was over, but still, he couldn't figure out why he felt this strong need to keep moving.

His foot sunk in the soft snow, and he stumbled; leaning against a leafless tree he looked past the branches, up at the gray sky. Looking and searching, hoping to catch a glimpse of the almighty so he could get his answers himself.

He closed his eyes and sat down completely with his head against the rough, cold bark. "Oh almighty," he called out in a croak.

"Forgive your subject for being greedy, asking for more than you've graciously offered to us already. My body is giving up, but my heart is tearing apart," cough, "screaming, screaming at me that I'm leaving something unfinished," His eyes opened, filled with tears of anguished helplessness, "give me a sign. A reason, to-"

He coughed sharply, gasping and wheezing as the numbing winter air pushed its way past his lips, burning a path down his throat. Black spots started blinking across his vision, sorely standing out against the blurry white of the snow. This is it. This is how he will meet his end; he was sure of it.

Accepting his fate, he let his eyes close shut. His bones ached, and his skin was frozen cold. Just as he thought this was it, his ears picked up a faint sound. He didn't pay it any mind; if someone was here to capture him, it would be useless. He would be dead before anyone reached him.

But the more he heard, the clearer the voice became. A cry. He must be losing his mind. He blamed his growing incapability to differentiate in sounds and scenes the more he breathed in the bitter cold air.

But the cries started again.

His eyes snapped open, he was sure now that the cries were real.

Gaining a burst of strength he didn't know he was capable of anymore, he dragged himself up with the help of the tree and listened for more sounds—trying to locate the direction where it was coming from.

His feet started moving in a direction with thicker vegetation on their own, like they already knew where to go before his ears could actually locate the source.

He rushed past more bare trees, shrubs, and boulders and came face to face with a series of rocks protruding from the mountain, covered in a thin layer of snow, and then looked around trying to figure out the source where the sound could be coming from—which he now realised couldn't be heard anymore.

To his right, there were more trees packed together tightly, and he considered going in that direction when he heard the tiniest whimper, which he would've missed if he hadn't strained his ears to catch any noise.

The sound was coming from the rocky surface; confused, as there was no way something could get stuck between them, he looked around some more trying to figure it out when he noticed a hole in the far left side of one of the rocks near a tree growing close to the black rocks.

The hole was—he found out upon a closer look—no bigger than the size to fit a small dog, it seemed that the snow couldn't reach here because of the thick roots protruding from above, and the shrubbery that was still green and flourishing in the winter, but that's not what surprised him—it was the woven bamboo basket and a thick green blanket covering it and the whimpers that were coming from that basket.

He pulled it out, pulled the covers back, and revealed—

A child.

A very cold child with blue lips and the faintest of breaths puffing past its mouth.

Urgency immediately seized his limbs as he brought the infant out of the basket and close to his chest. It is going to die; this was the only thought echoing in his mind.

He took off running in search of someone. Anyone. He couldn't let the child die.

He ran and ran, holding the baby close to his chest, tucked in his coat.

"Is someone out there!? Help!" There was no response. He knew the tribals lived in this place, but he couldn't be sure of the exact location. And he hadn't been in his right mind to try and get a sense of the direction to figure out where he was at that moment.

"Please," he begged, "it will not survive, please," he cried up towards the sky. The black dots were back in his vision, stronger than before, but before he could succumb to the darkness, he took one more careful look at the child in his arms and assessed its soft breaths.

What a beautiful child. Shame I couldn't save you.

With that final thought, he tucked the tiny being close and let darkness take him under.

Warm. Everything felt so warm. Alastair hadn't felt warm in months. He shifted in his position, drifting in and out of consciousness.

The sound of fire crackling was what brought him out of his slumber at last. He blinked his eyes open, still a little dazed, and found himself lying on a cot in front of a blazing fire. He closed his eyes back immediately; his head hurt, and so would have his legs if they didn't feel numb already.

He tried to move his head, his neck protesting after being in that position for too long, and at first he couldn't, but his stubbornness won over his fatigue, and finally he managed to lift his head just a couple of inches. He tried to take in as much as his eyes allowed in that position and discovered that he was placed in a dark room. It seemed the walls were made of mud and the floor was wood.

Before he could think about how he got here, he heard the door behind him creak open. A chilly gust of wind entered the place along with the visitor. He tried turning his head again and just barely managed to lift it when the person came hurrying in front of him.

"Oh! You're awake," the person, who now he could see was an old woman, asked him happily, "must be confusing to wake up here, but not ya worry, ya were saved by our gatherers." The woman continued, oddly cheerful, in her accented voice as she came around to sit on the mat beside his cot, her arms carrying something he couldn't focus on as she kept talking.

"Found ya freezing on the ground, oh, and ya girl is fine too! Strong child, Cianbhàta himself preserve the child."

Only now did he realise that the thing she put down on the floor wasn't a bundle of clothes but a child. The child—the girl—he found in the snow. She was staring at him, her dark eyes looking innocently up at him, and she definitely looked better too.

He was relieved. A little surprised how she survived long enough to make it here, wherever it is they were at, but he felt safe, and so he let the relief consume him.

He summarised what he remembered and what he was told just now and reached the conclusion that he was saved by these people—likely a mountain tribe—and was in their home right now; he saved the child, and now they think it's his child. That she's his daughter.

He opened his mouth to correct her, tell her that she wasn't his. That they might need to find her real parents. But somehow all that managed to escape was, "thank you for saving us."

"Not a problem! It brings honour to help our brothers in our community." The woman said kindly and got up off the floor, "I'll go fetch more firewood and something for ya to eat, ya must be hungry too. I fed the child while ya were sleeping, so not worry about her." And with that she left the room.

He got up on his elbows and pulled himself into a sitting position; groaning, he looked at the infant now playing with her blanket.

She looked magical in the glow of the fire, and he felt an inexplicable affection for her.

He stared at her, with a mind full of hundreds of things, thoughts flowing faster than the warm water springs, but then she looked back up at him with those same dark eyes, and his brain stopped in its frenzy. She reached out, a hand making motions as if to grab the smoke rising from the fire. That was the moment everything became clear to him.

He'd decided. He will spend the rest of his life living and protecting this child; after all, she gave him a second chance at life. A will—a reason to live.

He will take this child as his own. He will do all he can to become a father for her.

And for the next decade and a half, he did just that.

huff huff

Hurried footsteps echoed in the silence of the forest. With nothing but the sound of tired pants that carried their way through the saplings emerging from the frozen cold soil, raising their heads to greet the summer only to be trampled by the heavy steps running from everything it had ever known.

"Aghh," a yelp was heard as a lock of dark brown hair got stuck in a branch hanging too low.

What am I doing?

A sharp turn towards a safer path with fewer branches on the way down.

I'm running. He told me to run.

The moss on the uneven ground slipped from under your foot, making you stumble.

Am I dreaming?

You quickly got up, instincts telling you that you had to keep moving. There was no time to collect the few things that spilled from your bag at your fall; you only grabbed the leather journal and kept running. A few coins spilling out from your pouch tucked in your waist. The sound of them hitting the rocks painfully loud.

The forest became a blur; you couldn't focus on anything other than the pounding in your heart and the pain that your brain didn't have the time to register—both physical and emotional.

The way downhill was not too steep, but there were places where soil had shifted away, making it harder to navigate where there was solid ground and where you'll encounter a gaping hole ready to swallow your feet. You'd never been to these parts of the mountains. You never needed to; you lived on the other side. But you have no other option; this was the path your father said was safe and asked you to run to.

Your father. The man who made you leave. The one you were getting farther away from with every passing second. The man who you might never see again.

"Pa."

You let out a sob. Leaning a hand against a leafless tree to brace yourself. This place was a lot warmer than the snow-covered hill you called home; you were sweating—your tears getting mixed with the salt. The evening sun, halfway hidden down in the horizon, warmed your skin, but your insides were freezing cold.

You left home. left him. How did it ever come to this?

Before today you had been living in a bliss, unaware of the possibilities that such a storm could stir up in your life, one that you never would see coming and snatch everything you held dear.

You sniffled, thinking back to how everything was so normal and okay just this morning. And now it's not.

You stumbled, taking one step forward then the next. The sun had long disappeared, the moon hidden behind the clouds. The misty wind carried you forward, whispering a soft melody. You walked and walked, feet aching and heart heavy; your tears had dried off, but all you could do was move.

There was a light shining in the distance. You didn't know how long you had already walked, but just a little more. A few steps. Another few.

You reached the door, banging hard on it. The door opened, a middle-aged woman peeking out.

She said something. She was talking to you. You were so tired. She was shouting now.

But you couldn't hear her. Solid ground met the side of your head as you fell. Unconscious and numb.

An owl let out a hoot, breaking the quiet of the dawn. A gust of cool breeze made its way across the empty spaces among the trees, yet to be warmed by the rays of sun. The same breeze rushed into your home, tickling the hair on your neck, announcing their arrival through the jingles of the bells on your window. You forgot to shut them. Again.

You looked out the window at the fog weaving a blanket of white in the evergreen canopy it claimed as home till the sun rose and chased it away. For a moment, just one heartbeat, you thought of home. Remembered the cold of snow, the steam rising from potatoes straight out of the coals and in your gloved hands.

You let out a shaky exhale, willing the memories away.

You picked up the woven basket and strapped the hunting knife to your waist. On your way out you grabbed the hooded cloak off of the hook. Dressed in the dark green of the forest, you ventured away from the deeper parts of the wood where you lived on your way to collect the 'dawn lilies.' They could only be found near riverbanks and must be plucked before the sun came out. You ran out of those after making the previous supply of burn ointments.

The grass was soft under your boots, the morning dew getting soaked in the bottom of your pants. The air was crisp and tinged with a chill; one wouldn't be able to live in the dewy and wet cold of a place such as this without proper gear, but you had always been a little more resistant to the cold. Still, you made a mental note to grab some gloves when you would go to meet Kenzie the week after.

Winter was just around the corner, and you ought to be prepared for the changing season.

On your way to the river, you made a detour and took the longer path. Dense shrubbery with no definitive footmarks, a less walked path. Crouching down in a few spots, you checked on the snares you had set up yesterday. The wires and ropes twisted in the way you had learnt when you were seven. Three out of five and no luck. It looked like one of them was triggered, but whatever it was, it got away.

But the fourth one did not disappoint, as you found a marmot trapped and wriggling. Carefully moving it, you untangled the rope from around its body.

You took the knife out from your belt and nodded your head once, "Thank you for giving your life to sustain mine," and swiftly pushed the knife deep in its neck. Swift kill.

You checked the fifth one too. Empty. And continue on your way to the river.

Emerging from the forest line, you ran your gaze along the length of the riverbank, making sure no wild animal was there that would feel threatened by you or threaten your life. It would be unusual, though—for any predator to be here. You have never seen any wild animal that could put your life in danger in all the time you lived here. You concluded that these parts of the woods must not be suitable for them, hence making it safer for you to live.

As you look around, there are only the occasional critters roaming the forest floor. Small animals, those you saw plenty of. You made your way towards the small flowers growing close to the water and began collecting them.

You got up soon, flowers and some wild berries collected in your basket. It also held the meat from the marmot that you had just cleaned in the river, wrapped up in large leaves. Scanning the area once more, you got ready to make the trek back to your home.

I'd have to make another trip to collect some water later in the day.

On the way back, you took the shorter path. The one you used regularly. Munching on the berries as you walked.

"Thank you, Mayah."

The tall girl gave you a smile in response as she heaved up the crates you had brought with you and started walking back towards the open door of the shop. 'Rennie's' written on a wooden board in bold letters. You pulled a wooden case from the wagon and handed it over to the other man, Kane, who stood there with arms stretched out.

"Is that the last one?" He asked, taking the heavy box.

"Yes, that is it." You grabbed your satchel and hopped off the wooden platform. "Take these ones straight to the storage,or else the potions may go bad." And he followed the girl into the shop.

Turning back to the carter, you handed him a silver coin; he examined it and then immediately said, "This would not be enough, miss."

You looked at him, confused. "Why not? It always takes this much. I would know; I travel to Fulroch every month."

You made ointments and health potions—a skill you had learned since childhood. That was what your father did, and you decided to continue on the same path as him.

Once a month, you would travel from your home, half a day's journey away from Fulroch, and sell them at the market here. You were not keen on making contact with many people—the lesser knew of you, the better—so it was comfortable for you to have secured a vendor who bought your products to then sell them himself, and on a fair rate too. This is how you've been doing business for the last few years.

"Ah, miss, you know nothing of the raids that happened down South?" You pushed your lips, eyebrows pulled down, raids?

Before you could question him about it, he continued, "razed the whole town in days," he shook his head, "coins and cattle all gone. Those Aberrants," he sighed and tried coaxing the bulls attached to his wagon, who had started moving restlessly, "even the Lord turns his eyes another way when it comes to those Diels."

He continued to grumble some more before saying that he had to get going. You pulled a few copper pieces out of your pocket and handed them to him. As you watched him leave, you realised that someone was standing behind you.

"Kenzie," you said, turning back to the elder man.

"You look tired, miss." Kenzie replied, his wrinkle-covered face was kind as ever, and his voice warm. Meeting him always reminded you of a family you didn't have.

"The journey was long, and I left late today too. I'm fine, though. But that doesn't matter; what was that Carter talking about? Aberrants?"

"We shall talk inside, miss," his deep eyes swept the surroundings, and he started walking towards the back door. "Mayah? Bring a cup of water and also brew some tea, dear."

His daughter gave a short nod and went further inside the store, entering another set of doors.

You took a seat on the cot, and Kenzie did the same. "This far out, people are calling them raids," he started talking.

"And... they aren't?" You asked. You were never one to poke and prod about anything that had nothing to do with you. But this time you were curious; after all, this was not the first time you were hearing the name:

"Aberrants," he continued after taking a sip from the cup Mayah handed him. You thanked her when she did the same for you and mirrored him, "the second army of the Lord, I believe you know that much."

You nodded, also aware of how Lord Cras doesn't really have much control over them and lets them run wild. "They are bad news." Was what Pa once said. But that's all; word of their presence never came close to where you lived, and you never encountered them.

You stayed away from things that did not concern you. That's how you've lived.

"They came to a village south of Glenross first. Out of the blue, like they always did. No one knows where they come from or go to. But when they left," a grimace pulled itself on his face, "the village had become lifeless."

"Did they...?" You asked, your brows meeting in the middle as lines appeared between them. You feared they were killed.

"No. They just took everything. Valuables, grains, horses—"

"I suppose that's what a raid sounds like." You interrupted him in the middle, giving your empty water cup to Mayah, who came with a cup of tea in exchange—which you took with a grateful smile. His lips pursed as his eyes darted to his wall, on a painting of the forest on his right, before moving it back up the next second.

"Not quite. It was more than just that. Those deils brought a curse on the lands," Curse? This is not the first time you're hearing of something like this, but something about the tone in the old man's voice made you think of the stories from your childhood. The ones you had shut the doors to a long while ago, yet on the days the wind is stronger, you can hear their whispers rising with dust from between the cracks in the wood.

"By word of mouth, they drained the fertility from the soil and spat poison in the waters. The people became ill, so deathly ill." He coughed, chugging the rest of the water from his cup. "Nothing has come out of that town in the past half of the year. No yield, no supplies, no tax money that the incompetent Lord demands," Kenzie finished, his breath slightly laboured.

You made a note to make extra potions for him to use throughout the cold months. It did look like an extra harsh winter was casting its shadowy wings over the country. It is possible that your next trip down here might be the last one for this year.

You took his words in, trying to make sense of them. "And that's what caused an upsurge in prices?" You asked.

"No, that was not it. It has been months since the incident in there. They chose a small village at that time, but recently," he tried to continue but stopped as his daughter came back in the room, a hot water bag in hand.

"Don't speak so much at once, Pa," She scolded him gently in her soft voice. You looked at them, talking; your eyes that were tired just now had a glassy film to them, and your body stilled for just a second as she placed the bag on one of his shoulders. You turned your head away, focusing on the conversation.

"Then what caused it? All of a sudden?" You prodded, clearing your throat.

This time Mayah was the one who spoke, "It was after last month, when the same happened in Cunkeld." You've never been there, but you knew it took some time to reach there from Fulroch.

Her face took on a grave expression, "this time though the country is suffering. Taxes are higher and commodities got expensive, we expect it to only get worse during winter."

You listened intently, forgetting about the tea in your hand.

"I fear what they are doing is more than just raids or spreading poison for just the wealth," sighed Kenzie, his eyes shut; you wanted to ask why he thought that and what more he believed was there. But you didn't. The less you got involved, the better, and you believed that you had already questioned about things more than you should have.

Kenzie didn't look like he would be answering more of your questions either; he needed to rest. And so, you bid goodbye to Mayah, who handed you a small bag of coins. "I know it's not the whole amount—"

"Don't stress. Pay me the rest when you've sold all the stock," you smiled at her. Waving Kane off when he tried to walk you back.

Leaving out from the front this time, you slung your satchel across your body and decided to find a tavern for the night. It was late afternoon; the sound of bells ringing came from the center of the town having. The journey back would take hours, and it would be past midnight by the time you reach home. Not that you had any problem with traveling at night. But the wagon carters might not be too keen on that.

It didn't matter; you had errands to run either way, so you won't mind spending just one night here. And you were tired. You left later than expected in the morning; something had felt off, and you had checked around the perimeter. Although nothing was out of place, you still decided to be cautious, and it took some of your time.

So you started walking in the opposite direction of bells, on your way to the smaller market stalls.

"How much for the lotus seeds?" You asked around about different items, things that you needed for your workshop as well as other necessities. Soaps. New wires for snares. Some red clay.

You bought a few things and left behind a few others. There was not enough money for everything. You had to prioritize carefully.

A cat purred loudly as you neared a stall with fabrics of all colours arranged orderly. You scratched the cat on the head, and she went back to hissing at the stall on the left, one with shiny green apples. It was when you were inspecting a brown shawl that the vendor noticed you.

"What you lookin' for, girl?" an old-aged woman asked.

You looked up, hands pausing, "gloves for winter, leather."

The woman began rummaging around and produced a pair in a minute, "shoulda fit you, six silver pieces."

Your hands, previously reaching for said gloves, stopped in their tracks. "A bit too much, don't you think, madam?" Finally getting some movement back, you plucked the gloves, inspecting them, almost hoping to find some defect so that you can bargain for less.

"Leather comes precious these days, no bargain," She sniffed, then with a furrow in her brows, said, "No supply, so we're low on material; some rumored monster in the forest. No bigger monster than the cold and hunger, I say." She scoffed.

You looked at the leather gloves, clutching your coin bag with one hand, deep in your satchel, "Can't do more than 3 coins, I'm afraid."

The woman's face took on a look of annoyance before she sighed, a look of understanding passing over her face. "Tell you what, here," She produced a pair of woolen gloves, "sellin' them for three silver and two copper, but they are the last ones, on a discount, take it."

You picked up the ones she tossed your way. You really would've liked the leather ones, preferable when working near water. You put your hands through, noticing how it swallowed your hand and still had space to sneak half a dozen grapes.

"Do you have a size smaller? They seem a bit big." You asked, biting your lips, hands tugging the wool between your fingers.

"Told you they are the last ones. They'll work just fine; the weaving is higher too, will stop the cold and water."

You left, walking further away from the crowd, with black wool adorning your hands.

The tavern you chose for the night was brimming with patrons. Tables full of people eating and drinking. Located on the outer part of the town, it was not your first time at this place, but yet it managed to look new to you every time.

You got yourself a room on the second story. The rooms here were cheaper due to the dripping roof when it rained and poor insulation caused by paper-thin walls. But for you it was more than enough.

You would have preferred to go straight to bed, but having forgotten to eat at the market earlier, you were currently on your way up the stairs after getting some food.

Gathering your skirt with one hand, you lifted your foot up to take the first step, only to stumble back as a body slammed straight into you. Hard.

"Ah! Whoa, be careful, mister!" You exclaimed as you righted yourself with the help of the wall.

As you looked up, wondering how you didn't hear his footsteps, especially on creaky stairs, your eyes made contact with a hand—outstretched, as if trying to reach you in case you needed assistance. You looked up, eyes now fixed on the dark face wrap covering half of his face, and a hood was pulled low, casting a shadow on the other half.

He looked scary at a glance, but when you looked a little below, you caught his eyes. Dark and wide. And beautiful.

You stood there breathless, tracing the kohl lining his eyes with your own.

He pulled his hands back and jerked his body, sitting down on the floor. Reaching for something near your skirt.

You jumped back, startled.

But he was only grabbing for the apple that had rolled away on the floor, which he must've been holding when he bumped into you.

He looked up at you, apple in hand, "Hope I didn't startle you."

You looked down, shook your head once, and opened your mouth to say something, but he straightened and was up in a flash.

He stepped closer, and you noticed how he was towering over you, the black of his flowy tunic—untucked from his leather pants—brushing against your arm crossed in front of your belly.

"Don't go bumping into things," he leaned down now whispering beside your ear, "you might get hurt."

You were barely breathing and didn't even notice that he had unfurled your fist and tucked something in there.

By the time you regained your senses, he was already walking in the direction of the bar.

You looked down when you finally felt the weight of something in your hand and saw that it was none other than the fruit he was carrying. A bright green apple.

You looked after him for another second before deciding not to think much of him and walked up the stairs. Off to get some sleep and start the journey early tomorrow.

Knock knock knock!

You woke up to frantic knocking on your door. Heart thundering, matching the raps of wood on the other side, you got up.

The knocking stopped.

In the silence of the darkness spread over the room, you stood still. One look out of the window and you confirmed it was early, the sun yet to rise.

For a moment you convinced yourself it was your imagination—a nightmare, maybe. It wouldn't be the first time. You decided to just go back to slee-

Knock knock knock!

The knocking resumed.

You walked up to the door and in a hesitant but loud voice questioned, "Who is it?"

The knocking stopped. You held your breath. Waiting for an answer.

Knock knock knock.

You felt through the slit in your skirt for the small blade on your thigh. Feeling nothing, you recalled having placed it on the side table. You grabbed it. Just in case.

"Who is it?" You placed a hand on the handle, another holding the blade.

A moment of silence. Just as you were about to question again, a voice called out,

"Open the door," a deep voice answered.

Body frozen, you took a big gulp of air. Where have you heard it? Warning bells were ringing in your head, telling you how this situation felt familiar.

You backed away, hand leaving the handle. I need to get out of here. In blind panic you started considering your options. You certainly couldn't fight whoever was outside. Maybe you could climb down the window?

But you stood still. You focused on the voice; it was familiar. Something in you was telling you that you should open the door.

Another knock, and you were opening the door before you could stop yourself.

The door cracked open just a sliver, but the stranger didn't make any attempt to make the gap wider or push his way in right away, unlike what you would have expected. It gave you a moment of clarity, and you came back to your senses. Raising your eyes, you were met with a half-covered face and dark eyes, lined with kohl. You knew where you had seen them.

"You are—"

"You need to come with me."

There was an urgency to his voice. His eyes were locked on yours, urging you to take a dive into the essence of midnight they held. A lock of hair fell in front of his eye; he pushed it back.

"Who are you?" The words were a whisper, but in the quiet of dawn they rang loud and clear.

One of his hands reached up, pulling the dark piece of cloth, hiding half his features, down. He gazed at you while you stole glimpses of the rest of him. Full cheeks but a sharp jaw. Soft lips but a tense tilt to them. If it were any other situation, you would have been captivated by his contrasting features. But now was not the time.

Breaking you out of your thoughts, the man in front of you glanced back at your room, then back at you, lips pursed for a moment, before he parted his lips and answered, voice clearer now without any obstruction. He answered your question.

"Someone who is going to make sure you don't bump into anything and get hurt."

You stepped back on instinct as he made his way in.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," He was crazy, and you had finally shaken yourself out of his spell. You needed to get him out of here and then get yourself out. Probably leave this town for good.

"You don't have a choice. Either you come with me or we die."

Your brows shot up in disbelief at the situation. This can't be happening. Was he messing with you? Trying to trick you? Make you think he's here to save you—from what?—and then thrust the blade deep in your ribs when you let your guard down.

You opened your mouth. To question him or cry out for help—you weren't sure. But you didn't get a chance.

Not when you heard a dull thud.

You looked behind his back, but your door was already open halfway, and no one stood there. The sound had been distant; it must have come from the room on the other end of the corridor.

While you didn't think much of it—too preoccupied with thinking how to get away—the man in front of you turned and walked back to the doorway. He only peeked outside for a single moment before sucking in a breath through his teeth and shutting the door close, rushing back towards you.

"Stay quiet!"

You jerked away, back against the wall. "What do you think—" you pulled the knife out, brandishing it in front of you, "—you are doing?"

"Shut up." He gritted through clenched teeth, eyes on the door.

"What—"

In the time it took you to release half a breath, his left hand rose, wrapping around yours, twisting your wrist, and bending your arms back. He tugged you towards him, forcing your right hand behind your back, making you loose your grip on the knife.

You stood there, chest to chest, as he peered down at you with hooded eyes, while yours squinted as you wriggled trying to get free.

"Shhh," he shushed you, putting the palm of his other hand up above your mouth and walking you a step back towards the wall. Your eyes widened as he trapped you there, with just enough force to keep you that way and not hurt you.

Heart thundering in your chest, your head pounded, matching its beats. You tried to come up with all the possible ways to get yourself out, but the warm exhales leaving his parted lips left your brain a scrambled mess.

It was stupid. To let this stranger in. You just might have invited your own death over, dressed in rugged leather, with gleaming orbs of darkness for eyes.

You shut your eyes tight as you felt him lift his hand up, releasing your mouth. You could scream, but what use would that be? Those blades you saw strapped to his back, they could slit your throat before the scream could fully form.

Expecting the press of the blade on your skin, you tried to prepare yourself. But soon were extremely surprised when a gentle finger tapped on one side of your jaw, just below your ear.

"Listen."

Blinking back at him, you squinted your eyes at his command. With no understanding of the situation, you had no other choice but to oblige. That's when you heard it.

Bang

That definitely came from the same direction as the sound before.

"What was that?" You whispered. Creases appearing on your forehead as you tried to listen more carefully.

"We should go." He stated calmly and stepped back. Putting his head against the door, he started listening for something.

"No. I don't understand anything, and unless I do, I'm not going—"

"You're not listening!" He hissed, and for the first time, his carefully managed emotions cracked, giving way to compelling urgency. He moved back to stand in front of you. "If we don't leave now and they find us, it will all be over."

They? Who is he talking about?

You eye him, your gaze full of skepticism, and it is then that you hear a muffled sound, neck snapped towards the wall as if you could see past the wood; you deduce it sounded like a scream. Your blood ran cold.

"That was a scream. We c-can't leave; we need to—" Your breath hitched when you faced him again and came face to face with a knife.

"You're in no position to worry about that." It took you a moment to realise he was holding the knife by the blade, urging you to take it. It was yours; he must have picked it up from when you dropped it.

"But—"

"They are after you."

He you dead in the eyes and tilted his head, hair falling in his eyes, silently asking you to cooperate.

It was just like five years ago. The weight of your feet doubled, sinking you deeper in a darkness you knew too well. Your head spinning, a whirlwind of different shades of green flew past you. And you were fifteen again. Your father was asking you to leave, to run away. And you wanted to cry. "They are coming for you."

"Hey." He touched your shoulder softly, "It's okay; we'll get out of here. You can trust me."

"I don't." You replied shakily.

His eyes gleamed, "Good." You thought you heard a smile in his voice, but when you looked back at him, his face was as stoic as ever.

He motioned for you to follow as he cracked open your door just barely enough for his thumb to fit. He peeked out—assessing the corridor. Finding it bare, he pushed the door halfway open and stepped out, then motioned for you to follow.

You eyed the distance separating you and him, the doorway right in the middle. You could lock him out right now, when he was distracted. There was no proof he was telling the truth—that he was actually helping you. But deep inside you had an inexplicable inkling that doing that would not work in your favour.

You gathered the few things you had and were out the door, following close at his heels. You meant it—you didn't trust him, but at this moment he seemed like your best bet at figuring out what was going on.

And maybe, just maybe, even shine some light on a past you couldn't quite let go.

Giving your head a shake internally focused on the current situation at hand and started walking in the opposite direction from where the sounds had been coming from.

Behind you, the stranger shut the door behind you and urged you to move in front of him. He stood there for just a second longer before matching you step by step.

You walked faster, turning the corner before he did and missing the guy emerging from the other end. He locked eyes with the man walking behind you but didn't pay any mind, his attention focused somewhere else.

The other man—about to enter your room—stopped there for a second, hands on the doorknob. They were warm. The metal of the knob shouldn't be warm in this chilly tavern. Unless someone had made contact with it not too long ago.

The moment you both rounded the corner, safely out of sight, your partner wasted no time in taking huge steps forward, leaving you no option but to increase your speed as well. Not even two breaths passed before you heard thundering footsteps hot on your heels. You turn around, and your eyes meet with that of a man.

The man is dressed in peasant clothing, but it doesn't hide the sword at his waist. Hair a reddish brown, you only caught a brief glance of his enraged expression because the next thing you knew, a hand was grabbing your wrist tight and breaking off in a sprint.

The man gave chase. You change direction, disappearing from view, but you could hear him coming. The stairs were only a few steps away; you quickly tried to make your way there, eager to descend the stairs but felt yourself get tugged in the opposite direction.

"Not there," he said, moving up the stairs, you following behind.

"We will be trapped up there! We need to get out of this building if we want to loose that man."

"We are not trying to loose him," he calmly stated even as you both ran up the stairs. You reached the top floor and saw a large iron plate suspended in the middle, ropes dangling in front of it where there should have been a log hanging. You realised this place was once used as a bell tower.

"What now?" You asked him as he kept walking forward and did not stop until you reached the other side of the spacious place. The large open windows on all sides letting the cool wind in, spreading goosebumps all over your arm.

"Did you think these were just accessories?" He motioned back at the handles peeking out from behind his back, a pair of twin short swords.

Your lips parted open and eyebrows raised up, "Are you—"

With a bang, the man slammed open the door where you both had just come from.

"Stay back."

Before you even registered what he said to you, you saw him pull one of the swords out and sidestep the other man who had already started lunging at him with his own sword out. Their blades clashed, a ring echoing in the empty space. Similar sounds followed the one before with the grunts of the two men adding to the cacophony of noises.

"Mako," the stranger let out a laugh, the sound light as the air, after deflecting his opponent's last blow, "I thought they would send their best?"

The man, Mako, raised his sword, aiming for the chest, but the black-haired stranger blocked him and raised his leg, kicking him in the gut. The man stumbled, almost doubling over before he took a swing at his feet. Hurriedly he stepped back as the Mako stood straight, slashing the air in front of his face.

This Mako was clearly trained in fighting, and you would be worried if your savior didn't seem just as good at it, if not better.

"You seem to know me," he heaved a breath, and they both circled each other, "but you don't seem to know who you're messing with." The man swung repetitively at him, but he couldn't land a single scratch on the stranger. After another swing, he shoved him back with a powerful push. "I get the girl, and you go free," he heaved.

You felt your heart drop but stayed silent. This was no time to panic.

Coming to a standstill, not a single drop of sweat visible, he replied, "I know what I am doing. The girl is going nowhere."

Mako, now furious, let out a yell and charged at him with more vigor. He met his swings with his own slashes and started walking backwards. Nearing one of the windows, he changed to offense and pushed back hard. Sending the man a couple steps back. He prepared for another attack and picked up speed, running at him.

Just where he wanted his opponent.

At that precise moment, the stranger stepped to the side in a swift movement. The man missed him, but before he could turn and deliver another attack, he was onto him, thrusting the sword at his neck.

Mako's upper body dangled out of the window, and his hands became useless as he tried to grip the railing to keep himself from falling over. He could easily have pulled himself inside had it not been for the blade keeping him there. He grunted, letting out curses directed at the owner of said blade.

"As I said, I know who I'm dealing with, but maybe you don't." He whispered lowly—doe eyes gleaming—so only the man in front of him could hear.

Breathing calmly and getting the beating of your heart back to normal, you stepped out from the corner; eyeing the door, you wondered if you could make a run before either of their companions came looking. But you were curious too.

Walking behind him, you chanced a glance at the man hanging out of the window. His gaze trained on you, and he did something unexpected. He had a wide grin that made you uncomfortable. You stepped back, away from his sight, and eyed the other man.

The fighting couldn't have lasted more than five minutes, and even though you weren't the one brandishing a sword, you felt winded.

"What are we going to do with him?" You voiced your question at the same time he shifted the sword to his other hand.

Mako screamed just as the stranger swept both his feet off the floor in a single sweep of his foot and sent a punch directly at his chest.

You watched in horror as the man fell out of the window and ran, leaning against the railing as you saw him groaning on the pile of hay. Alive. You released a shuddering breath and twisted your body to face your savior.

The first rays of sunlight began shining from the east, making their way through the scattered clouds. Their glow was soft and warm, and as he stood there looking back at you, his eyes glowed iridescently.

But that was not what caught you off guard. It was the upturn of pink lips, white peeking out between them.

"Haven't done that in a while," He groaned, stretching his arms back and sheathing his sword.

He was smiling; it was the first one you witnessed. He was smiling after he threw a man out the window. Something was wrong with him.

You couldn't will your eyes to look away. Perplexed. A little scared. Amused.

A question ringing out in your head: where do you go from here? But another quickly emerged, pushing past it—

"Who are you?"

Dark-lined eyes locked with your wide ones. His grin faded, and instead his mouth attained a genuine, friendly quirk.

"Intelligence gathered and former mercenary," he offered his hand in greeting, "Jeon Jungkook."

As you stared at his extended hand and up at his face, you came to a conclusion. One your subconscious had already realised the moment he appeared at your door.

Wherever you go after this, it won't be back home.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ!!

I hope you liked it. Feedback is always welcome. And the taglist is open so please let me know if you want to be tagged!

taglist: @kookiewithluv @runariya

#jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jjk fic #jungkook fluff #mercenary jungkook #fantasy au #adventure au #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jungkook ff #fic: esati #iki writes #my work

84 notes · View notes

koolades-world · 9 months ago

Note

Hellooo

I really need a fic abt dis rn, my brain is just so 🫨

So, if it's fine, could u do something abt the brothers with an mc who base their worthiness on scores and grades? Like, if mc gets a bad score and grades, they'd constantly feel Worthless and would isolate themselves from everyone. They'd also skip meals and oversleep, feeling like everyone's disappointed at them.

Thank youu!-

hi! yes, of course!

writing this while wearing fake nails that'll hopefully pop off soon haha so if there's spelling mistakes where only one letter missing, that's because i didn't hit the key hard enough with my nail lol

enjoy :)

Mc who bases their worthiness on grades

Lucifer

while he doesn’t pick up immediately, he noticed after you got a bad test score, you’d not be around as much, like meal times

he puts two and two together, and gently confronts you

he offers you help with your work and studying, if that’s what you want, or just his support

either way, you’ve secured exclusive access to his room for peace, quiet, and his encouragement

Mammon

since he spends so much time around you, he catches on quickly

while his bad grades bounce off him, he can see how hard you take it when he tries to joke with you about it to make you feel better

while it’s hard for him to be real with you, he lets you know you’ll forever be the hardest working person he’ll ever know

you’re so resilient and for someone who’s been thrown into a strange world, you’re doing amazing. his late night snack runs always have your favorite in it now

Levi

while you never directly told him, he kind of saw his own self destructive habits in you

at first he’s not sure what to do

does he mention it outright? eventually he got so upset seeing you like that, he blurted it all out

in this, he tells you just how much he cares about you and now he’s a flustered mess

Satan

despite how well he does, he always feels like he's living in the shadow of lucifer and how smart he is. it's part of the reason he picked up reading: to learn and differentiate himself from lucifer

belphie can put him to shame when he just tries and he hates that

he really understands how you feel and is quick to tell you while it’s not abnormal to feel, he understands you

he knows it’s not a healthy habit and he wants to work through it together with you

Asmo

he knows despite outer appearances, not everything can be as it seems

he notices your self care seems to wane around the times you do poorly in class

when this happens, he marches down to your room with a self are lit in hands and demands you relax because he knows you’re so much more than a grade

he just wants you to know to and he’ll do whatever it takes to make you see you how he sees you

Beel

the first time he sees you haven’t eaten in at least a day, he’s quick to offer you something to eat

he’s not sure why you seem to be trying to avoid the question or say no politely

eventually, once he learns, he sweeps you into a giant hug and he lets you know you’re more than just the letter or number attached to your work

he knows you try so hard, and as long as you don’t give up, you’re going to be alright. everyone has their off days and he’s going to do his best to make those days better for you

Belphie

when you begin to join him in progressively getting up later and later in the morning, he knows something is wrong

one morning, after everyone has left, he’ll hop in bed with you and gently talk to you about what’s been going on while hugging you

he offers you help with your work and tells you a grade doesn’t define you in relation to how other see you, especially him

he’s in no place to judge and he knows sometimes all people need is a helping hand from a loved one

#obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me belphie #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date

338 notes · View notes

pickingupmymercedes · 8 months ago

Text

I'd like to believe - Lewis Hamilton

Alternative sequel to Maybe in another life / When I get to meet you

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: mentions of mourning, angst, will make you emotional

wordcount: +1K

a/n: Alternative-ish ending (this was actually my first draft to continue their story, so the happy-ish one is the alternative, sort of).

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

MILD TRIGGERING CONTENT UNDER, PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

______________________________________________________________

My dearest little one,

Today marks ten years since you should have been here, celebrating another year of life. Ten times the snow has fallen, making everything quiet outside.

They say time heals all cuts, but some cuts go real deep, leaving scars that never quite go away. And I still find it hard to believe that a whole decade has passed.

You'd be so grown now, so full of life and curiosity, brimming with questions and dreams. I often wonder what you'd be like – would you have my stubbornness and determination, or your mother's grace and patience?

Maybe a beautiful blend of both, creating someone truly unique.

I’m going to visit your stone again later today. Leave this letter like every year. I suspect there’ll be fresh flowers, as always, probably from your mother.

She never forgets.

We never reconnected, not like I'd hoped for. But I think about her often.

I searched everywhere for her. I just really needed someone to share the pain with, someone to hold onto while everything fell apart. We tried talking, spilling out all our feelings, but the words wouldn't come out right. Maybe we were afraid of saying the wrong thing or making things worse.

Maybe we were both thinking the same thing – maybe if we'd done things differently, maybe you'd still be here.

After a while, the space between us just kept getting bigger, too big to cross. You see, your mom, she found a way to move on. She built a life for herself, a life where the pain was still there, but it didn't control her anymore.

I hope she's found peace and happiness, something she deserved more than anyone. She was an incredible woman, and I wish I had been the man she needed me to be.

I hope she reads these letters someday, that she understands how much I loved you both, how much I regret not being there when you needed me most.

Maybe one day, when the weight of these years starts to feel a little lighter, I can finally forgive myself.

Maybe then, I can find the strength to reach out to her, not to get back together, but to find some peace, a simple way to say thank you for the love we shared and sorry for the loss that tore us apart.

You know, life has changed quite a bit since I last wrote to you.

I'm with someone, have been for the past four years. She's patient, kind and knows about you. I don't think we'll ever have children though. She's got her own ghosts.

I retired from racing. Shortly after I won my eighth championship with Ferrari. It was a dream come true, but also bittersweet because I couldn't share it with you. I work as a consultant for the team now, just like Niki was for me at Mercedes. You’d have loved him.

It's a different kind of thrill, guiding the next generation of racers, helping them navigate the same challenges I once faced, but it drives me forward.

I’d like to believe you’d be proud of your old man for that.

I sometime wonder if you would have been drawn to racing too, or maybe you'd have found your passion in something entirely different. Whatever it might have been, I would have supported you every step of the way and with all my heart.

I think about the things you'd enjoy often; you know?! The hobbies and interests you'd develop.

Maybe you'd love music, like your mother. She had an incredible ear for it, always humming a tune or singing softly to herself. It’s what got us close in the first place so many years ago.

Perhaps you'd have a knack for building things, creating something out of nothing with your hands and imagination.

Either way, I hope you'd have found joy in the simple things, just like I try and do now.

There's so much I wish I could’ve shared with you. So many lessons I've learned the hard way and would to show you. Life isn't always easy, my little one. It's filled with ups and downs, triumphs and failures.

One of the most important things I wish I could’ve taught you is the value of love. Real love, the kind that fills your heart and soul, and is worth every bit of pain and sacrifice.

I had that with your mother, even if I didn't realize it at the time. She saw right through me, saw the man behind the driver, and loved me for who I was. I'd hope you'd find someone like that, someone who understands and loves you unconditionally.

It might hurt sometimes, but that's how you know it's real. Love isn't always easy, but it's the most beautiful thing.

I would want you to know that it's okay to make mistakes though. I made plenty, and each one taught me something valuable. The key is to learn from them, to grow and become a better person. But each moment, whether good or bad, shapes who you are.

I wish I could have been there to guide you through it all, to help you navigate the challenges and celebrate the victories. My motto has been “Still I Rise” for the longest time and if you wanted it could’ve been yours as well.

Life isn't about being perfect; it's about being true to yourself and striving to be the best version of you.

In the quieter moments I still dream about you, you know. In my dreams, you're a whirlwind of energy, your laughter filling the air. We go on adventures, explore the world together. I teach you what I know, and you teach me about everything else.

Those dreams are my sanctuary, a place where we can be together, even if just for a moment.

Sometimes, I catch myself talking to you out loud, as if you were right beside me. I tell you about my day, about the races, about the world. It might sound silly, but it brings me comfort. It's my way of keeping you close, of making sure you're never forgotten.

Even though we never got to meet, you are a part of me, and I carry you in my heart every day.

You are my greatest loss, but also my greatest gift. You've taught me more about love than anything else in this world.

Sometimes, under a sky full of stars, I imagine you up there with the constellations, looking down at me with curious eyes. And I need you to know that we love you still, deeply and unconditionally.

Ten years old. A whole person with your own personality, dreams, and wishes.

The world missed out on knowing you, and so did I.

But your memory, my precious child, it lives on. It lives on in the way I cherish every moment, every sunrise, every laugh shared with a friend. It lives on in the way I try to be a better person, kinder, someone who would have been a good dad to you.

This letter is my vow written down. A promise that even though you're not here, you'll never be forgotten.

Happy birthday, my sweet child. I hope, wherever you are, you're smiling, knowing that you are loved and cherished.

You are my light, my angel and a part of me. And though the path I walk may be lonely sometimes, I carry you and your mom with me in my heart, always.

With all the love that would have filled a lifetime.

Dad.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic

146 notes · View notes

scho17 · 3 months ago

Text

@hibiscusseaart

Ren Nohara

Ren and Kks doodles + me yapping ab this AU bc the brain rot has me in a chokehold

close ups so yall dont have to zoom in

I JUST REALIZED THIS WOULD MEAN THAT NARUTO IS TECHNICALLY ALSO THE HATAKE CLAN HEIR URAGHHHH

I NEED TO DRAW HIM WITH ALL THE NINKEN SO SO BADDDDDD

KAKASHI SHARING CLAN LORE BC HE HAS PACK TO CARRY ON HIS CLANS HISTORY AND TRADITIONS BC IT ISN'T JUST HIM ANYMORE SAVE ME SAVE ME

Hatake 'the line ends with me' Kakashi BUT NOT ANYMORE BABY HELL YEAH!! having a spouse and child will do that to you

Now does he really gaf ab tradition? Honestly, probably not but the idea of him not being alone in terms of family/clan is what he deserves (along with a lot of therapy).

HE MAY STILL BE MENTALLY ILL BUT NOT AS BADLY AS THE FIRST TIME AROUND 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Also, the consequences of Naruto having two parents who are both some of the most elite shinobi in Konoha is probably one of the best 'fuck off' deterrents he could have in terms of curbing harassment over his being the nine-tails container.

ALSO ALSO, "I'm gonna be Hokage!" oh and he's wearing those little blue goggles and carrying around the weight of a dead boy's dream without really knowing just how heavy that burden is but still carrying it all the same in the way only optimistic children can. Oh bitch I'm throwing up everywhere. Like yes he's going to bring peace to the shinobi world but he is also giving both his dad's the worst type of heart ache. Seeing doubles because he's so much like Obito but blonde and four times as stubborn.

kkrn trying so hard not to see ghosts in their kid but he's literally a mash up of Minato, Kushina, and Obito. Minato's kindness, Kushina's vitality, and Obito's pure will to be good.

Not saying that ghosts are all they see cause it's very much not. Naruto is still Naruto but sometimes there's that outline of an old memory that just doesn't fade. A little like deja vu I guess. Kakashi and Ren are so glad it's peacetime because even the thought of dandelion blonde beneath a too-big boulder makes breathing that much harder.

I imagine he gets trained an insane amount because both Kakashi and Ren want him to be able to defend himself. Even while it's peacetime, they're shinobi, there's always a risk. So long as Naruto is on active duty he'll always be in danger. With both of his guardians growing up/serving in the third war when they were barely older than Naruto it's practically a given.

Not that I think Naruto would complain about being able to learn jutsu/shinobi skills. He'd probably be stoked about it until he has to spend like four hours straight throwing shuriken and reading survival guides about edible plants. He complains about it. Loudly. mb lil bro half of ninja training is literally just ingraining reflexes and learning the land.

mmm academy-era Naruto going to the memorial stone and ranting about his day to it in the way he's seen both Ren and Kakashi do in the past. That's so cute and sad like "and then Shikamaru slept the whole time but it was supposed to be a GROUP project! Can you believe that!" and Obito is in the bushes nodding his head along like the good uncle he is. (He literally tried to murder Naruto when he was less than an hour old.)

Naruto just talks and talks and talks. About everything and nothing and its probably like the least depressing one-sided conversation Obito has ever heard in front of his grave (looking at you Kakashi, Ren).

I imagine that Naruto kind've treats the stone/Obito's memory fondly. Both Ren and Kakashi talk about him in warm tones and with growing up hearing stories of him it's hard not to feel like he knows him. He's not there, obviously, but if Naruto closes his eyes and imagines that scowling boy in his parent's team photo while he talks it almost feels real. (Honey, you've got a big storm coming.)

To their family, Obito is forever thirteen. He's passionate and has a short fuse. He loves sweets and has eyes and hair darker than the night, he's a sucker for a sob story and helps old ladies with their groceries. Naruto finds it hard not to see a friend in a ghost he's never met.

AA and then post Uchiha Massacre, Naruto just stares at the stone and wonders that if Obito were still here would he be gone too? Man I need to see what's going on in Obito's head during that.

On an unrelated note i wonder where the fuck Jiraiya is in all this. Bro is just out and about doing fuck all as two fourteen year olds take care of his godson and he's running from responsibility😭 i bet he sends guilt money. Ren literally doesn't give a single shit because even if Jiraiya did try for custody he would literally be getting his hands chopped off. No way in hell is Ren letting a pervert like that raise a kid that's a recipe for disaster. The money is nice but Ren could not give less of a fuck ab that mans guilt. Like "oh, you feel bad for not owning up to your God Father title that Minato, my late sensei, entrusted to you? Good."

I need to see Ren and Genma + Anko and Kurenai friendship. They would be a horrible terrible no good amazing friend group. Terrifying when together. Four horsemen of the apocalypse when they have an idea and put their mind to it.

Anyway, what are our opinions on ANBU Ren and Ren meeting 'Sukea' bc that all i've been able to think ab today. Okay, I'm done yapping thanks for listening.

#ren nohara #kakarin #kkrn #obrn #kakashi hatake #obito uchiha #rin nohara #team 7 #naruto #obkkrn endgame bc i need to see them all happy and in love like they deserve

70 notes · View notes

amazingmsme · 3 months ago

Text

What About Raspberries?

AN: cuttin’ it close, but still on time! Enjoyed this one more than I thought I would, but I also made it a lil shorter lol. Hope y’all enjoy day 17!

It was a fairly quiet day at the circus, as they were given a rare break from the ceaseless adventures and were allowed the full day to relax. Jax seemed annoyed by this, but everyone else was relieved. For once, a peaceful, calm atmosphere settled over the tent as the circus members milled about.

Jax was taking a moment to get to know their newest addition, asking about her favorite color and food. Not that he shared the same information.

“Favorite vegetable?” he asked, continuing this little game of theirs. Pomni thought for a moment before answering.

“Hm, probably… I dunno, cucumbers?” she shrugged, having never given it much thought before.

“Really? Water with skin, that’s what you’re goin’ with?” Jax taunted.

“Hey, they’re good! What’s your favorite vegetable? Carrots?” she shot back playfully. She could’ve swore she saw the hint of a blush beneath his fur.

“And what the #%$*’s wrong with carrots?” he snapped defensively. She giggled behind her hand as she looked him up and down.

“Oh my God, it is your favorite!” she laughed, and he rolled his eyes with a huff.

“Whatever, real rabbits don’t even eat carrots,” he corrected. “So, favorite fruit?”

“Something juicy like watermelon or a strawberry,” she replied faster than before, having a more solid answer lined up for this question. His ears perked up and he leaned closer, smile stretching across his face.

“Okay, so you like sweet and juicy. Like raspberries.”

“Eh? What about raspberries?”

Jax shifted to a more relaxed, nonchalant position. “Do you like them?”

“Uh, I guess. They’re pretty good,” she nodded in agreement with herself. Jax sat up a little straighter.

“You think so?” If only Pomni had noticed the mischievous glint in his eye, the evil lurking behind his smile.

“Yeah, don’t you?” she asked innocently, looking at him from over her shoulder. She immediately wished she hadn’t. “Uh, Jax?”

“No, I agree! I think raspberries are great! They’re sweet, they make good cheesecake, you can stick ‘em on your fingers- they’re a diverse lil berry, I’ll give them that. But there’s an even sweeter kind of raspberry I think you’re gonna love,” he voice took on a teasing tone. Pomni took a nervous step back.

“N-no thanks, I’m good,” she stuttered, backing up against a large set piece.

“Come on, how do ya know you don’t like it if ya don’t try it?” he goaded. Against her better judgment, Pomni caved.

“Okay… what is it?”

“It’s easier if I just show you.” When she didn’t immediately grab his hand, he made an impatient grabbing motion. “C’mon, you can trust me!”

“I don’t know, can I?” she quipped, not bothering to hide a shy smirk. She felt like she was finally starting to adjust to things. Her sass seemed to throw him off guard, even if just a little. He blinked and shook his head before answering.

“Oh please, I’m like the most trustworthy guy here!” That actually made her laugh.

“Sure, okay,” she said, totally believable.

“That’s it, c’mere!” he growled and lunged for her, managing to scoop her up as she yelled in shock. He carried her squirming body to the nearby couch, sitting down with her stretched across his lap.

“Jax, what the $@%# are you doing?” she cried out, struggling in his arms.

“Hold still, will ya? This is the kinda raspberry I’m talkin’ about!” he exclaimed before taking a deep breath. He pushed up Pomni’s shirt and buried his face into her soft tummy, blowing as hard as he could. She arched her back with a scream of laughter, tugging on his ears to push him away. That didn’t seem to stop him, as he merely brushed her off and took another breath, gearing up for round two.

“Jahahax, dohon’t you dahahahare!” she tried to threaten through her giggles, but it only served to challenge him.

Jax stared down at her like the villain from every fairytale she’s ever read. “Oh, I dare.” And then he was blowing another raspberry, and she was shrieking once again.

“Wow, you sure are ticklish! I think I just found a new form of entertainment,” he taunted before diving back in.

“Nohoho! I-I’ll kihihill you!”

“Not if you did laughing first!” He punctuated his sentence with another raspberry. Pomni was lost to a fit of laughter as she thrashed and giggled in his lap. Every time she tried to answer, he attacked her tummy with raspberries, making coherent speech impossible.

At this rate, she just might.

#tickletober #tickletober 2024 #pomni #jax #the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc fic #tadc tickles #tadc tickle fic #ticklish!pomni

52 notes · View notes

nathaniel-underwood-is-an-intj · 8 months ago

Text

Looong rant about chapter 16 Ptolemy's Gate and how being passive can add to the cycle of ab*se.

oof so I just read when Nat goes to see Ms Lutyens and I can't help but be absolutely furious at her??

I know that's maybe a little bit unfair given she's frightened of him as a magician and is obviously angry when she finds out the department he's responsible for, but honestly it kinda brings up the problem with inadvertent bystanders to child ab*se in my mind.

And I'm definitely not blaming her solely for who Nat becomes but it makes me think of all those people in huge child ab*se cases who give interviews to press about all the things they noticed that were wrong but they just...never do anything?

She stood up for him against Lovelace, and when Nat thanked her- "I wanted to say that I know you were trying to save me, and-"

''Yes, and I'm sorry I didn't" Like girl be for real did you really think that alone would undo the years of indoctrination and abuse he's already suffered and prevent years worth of the same in the years to come? And she won't take responsibility - "My job is with children, not the adults they become" and again while it seems harsh to blame her for who Nat becomes, it's so much easier to pass the blame to people who are more directly responsible rather than acknowledging you also play a part.

I think it hurts so much more because it's her specifically- Nat goes to her in sheer desperation, it almost seems like a goodbye- he wants to thank her, tries to set her up in a job that will pay well and struggles to communicate he's trying to help. At this point he thinks Bartimaeus has been summoned by another magician and his birth name will be revealed. He's sure he's about to die and if not he'll be stood on trial and lose everything.

He goes to her because she represents the peaceful moments from his childhood when he got away from his master. He's scared and feeling lost and really it's call for help; but he doesn't ask for anything he just wants to make her feel proud of him- he's looking for that validation that he's been chasing since childhood.

And that shows he still does have that little bit of childhood innocence in him; he thinks she will be proud, thinks she'll see him as the same little boy in the garden gazing up at his teacher in adoration. He can't quite grasp why she's separated the man stood before her from that little boy. Because in that moment the child inside Nathaniel is seeking comfort AND THAT'S WHY it makes me so angry. She's completely given up on him when he's at his lowest ebb, because she doesn't want to be associated with the magician he's become. As if it isn't a massive step in the right direction that he saught her out in the first place- what other magican would bother? I wonder if that's why she reacted so strongly to seeing him again? Before that moment she could go about her life wondering if /pretending her attempt to protect him was enough, and now she realises it wasn't, of course it wasn't, and the image she had of Nathaniel's childhood innocence is completely ruined in her mind.

Or was her contempt for him even grater than Nat realised? She was naturally disgusted by the rhetoric he'd started to repeat from a young age, and gently tried to correct him although she was clearly angry- was she just resigned to the fact that there is little else she could do to change his future? I always thought- couldn't she have looked for him? The Underwood house fire was in the papers and they mentioned the apprentice was being searched for. Did she ever worry about him? Surely something must have been in the papers since- an announcement of new ministers, ANYTHING! Look at how much research Kitty did to find out about Bartimaeus and Ptolemy. I just don't think Rosanna Lutyens cared enough, realistically Nathaniel wasn't hard to find- but he was no longer her responsibility so she could turn a blind eye.

And sadly it's not just her- I know everyone loves Martha Underwood including Nat; but I think her submissiveness to her husband has a negative effect on Nathaniel as well. In AOS when Nat is locked in his room for ages after setting the mites loose, and is forbidden to have any contact with anyone and she won't talk with him. I know she's been told by Mr. Underwood she can't, but it still boils my blood. She's an adult and going along with ignoring Nathaniel because her husband told her to...I can't even begin to imagine the psychological damage that would do to a 10 year old child. (It could be argued she's frightened of the consequences if her husband finds out she's disobeyed him which is fair, he could always be watching through magic- but this is Arthur Underwood we're talking about. He's lazy, oblivious and weak I doubt he'd expend all that energy each day to check up on her.)

And It's even more painful that Nathaniel is often described as fiercely loyal to her and I think to Ms Lutyens as well- he doesn't expect to be treated well by Arthur Underwood but he loved Mrs Underwood and Ms Lutyens so much he started to view them through a rose-coloured lense. He never feels betrayed by either of them, even though they absolutely let him down, because the pedestal he's put them on is too high AND THAT ABSOLUTELY DESTROYS ME.

Would things with Nathaniel have been any different if Mrs Underwood hadn't died? I don't really think so. Do you think she'd see Nathaniel's temper at 14 years old and be reminded of Arthur Underwood? He was awful, absolutely awful to Nat and to her; but he was under so much stress in an underfunded departement, where pressure was being put on him by superiors to accomplish far more than they knew him to be capable of, and he took it out on the easiest target. Nathaniel ends up in exactly the same place and he starts to take it out on the only person around him- Bartimaeus. Would he snap at Mrs Underwood all the time if she were still there? Because he's learnt that behaviour from his father figure, and subconsciously learnt from his mother figure that she'll put up with it. He learnt from the woman he loved so deeply, that if you don't resist, people will walk all over you. So you have to maintain control even if it ends up hurting people you care about because no one will step in to stop the suffering no matter how much you love them, no matter how much you want them too.

It's easy to blame Arthur Underwood and Simon Lovelace and the magicians that actively hurt Nathaniel but I just feel like it's a bit disingenuous not to acknowledge the role of those doing passive harm. It's really mean to say it but even Bartimaeus plays a role- he knows Nat is clinging on to him because he can't 'bring himself to break this last connection' (to his childhood) but instead of bringing it up properly he 'taunts' Nathaniel- a boy who has been taunted for his weakness by his master for years. And even in AOS when Nathaniel tells Bartimaeus he was beaten for the mites incident Bart just kinda shrugs it off. Like I get it, why should Bartimaeus do anything, he's suffered way worse due to the system so he doesn't owe Nat anything right? But from Nat's point of view this is the first and only time he's mentioned to anyone what has happened to him and nothing changes. It's like another lesson learnt: telling someone about it doesn't help. Another nail in the coffin.

And I like all these characters, I feel bad for them. They're all victims of the system, I think the chapter with Ms Lutyens is just the straw that broke the camel's back for me. All of those little opportunities that are insignificant to the narrative over all; the commoners have it worse, Nathaniel is in a privileged position in society, exerting control over others. He's very morally grey, crossing over into objectively bad person territory but I love him with my whole heart and all of those insignificant moments would have been massive to him whether he was conscious of it or not.

And it goes all the way back to the beginning with Nat's parents giving him up to the magicians at 5 years old. I can't get the image of that little boy sat crying all alone in the government building. And he's not going somewhere safer, or somewhere he'll be happier and more loved. Giving your child over to a total stranger, oh he'll be totally fine won't he? He'll grow up to be a magician and far richer than you'll ever be, he'll be happy and comfortable and be grateful he got to grow up in luxury. There's no way a stranger you've never met, who the majority of society is terrified of would ever hurt a vulnerable little kid right? And if they do? Well you aren't responsible anymore, how could you know? What could you possibly do against the magician taking care of him?

Every little thing is another grain of sand tipping the scale. Did anyone else have to analyse An Inspector Calls in school? It feels like that to me- those BIG moments and all the little moments in between that add onto the pile.

And it goes on to cause problems in wider society too- ab*se is so normalised to the magicians, they casually ask Underwood if he hits Nathaniel like it's nothing. Because to them it is nothing, they've all grown up in the same circumstances and are repeating what they've learnt as children. I can't help but feel a little sorry for them all, especially when they aren't looked at through the black and white lense of 'argh these people are the evil arseholes look at how they treat everyone around them, screw these guys.' When we see those little glimpses of humanity like Simon's anxiety with the amulet; looking to his master and father figure Schyler for reassurance, and what's sad is that Nat is "reminded...of his own master's cold impatience" It's clear Simon looks up to his master, wants to make him proud and loves him. But it seems like Schyler has just trained Simon up so he can get power through him later on. I love the little hints of similarities between Simon and Nathaniel; the anxious mannerisms like fiddling with his hair that Nathaniel starts to develop, the way their master's talk to them. Even though they're actively working against each other in AOS and Simon is placed firmly in the baddies category and Nat in the goodies category at this point in the series; these things always hinted to me they had similar childhoods, how was Simon treated? When he had the imp beat Nat into unconsciousness, was it because he'd had the same punishment used against him? Did he know the magicians in the room would do nothing to stop him because no one stopped it from happening to him? Did he ever have a teacher stand up for him only for it to change nothing in the end because all the negative influences were so much stronger? Is the reason he loves Schyler like a dad because he's almost developed Stockholm syndrome? It looks like love because he's never known anything else.

And Arthur Underwood- who doesn't think his upbringing, and being taken away from his family ever did him any harm- doesn't realise the harm done is that he doesn't even know another way of raising Nathaniel, because he was never shown another way. His childhood may also have been filled with people who hurt him and the people that didn't do enough to intervene.

There are so many psychology studies that show children copy everything they see the adults in their life doing. Nathaniel copies the magicians behaviour towards spirits and on a subconscious level I think he copies all the submissive people in his life. How many times does he end up upset and frustrated with the fact he seems to be going nowhere and how many times does he just hope things will be different rather than taking postive action.

I dislike the actions the magicians end up taking but I also find them fascinating to analyse. I tend to prefer villains in media because they're usually slightly more complex individuals and I love to think about how they ended up that way. They can all be seen as victims of their circumstances in a way, despite all the power and privilege they have had terrible and traumatic childhoods, and if the commoners had no valuable worldy possessions at least they had a sense of togetherness; of love and understanding and selflessness. I wonder if the magicians hated them at least partly because of that. Because out in the sea of faces of the commoners talking about nothing important, doing nothing great and noble- could be the parents that abandoned them. And when your life is on the line daily because of working with spirits, and your colleagues want to stab you in the back, sometimes not being responsible for anything important looks good. But you can't leave your life as a magician, it would be too difficult; you have nowhere to go, no real friends, no one who really loves you. So it's better to stay and be a submissive bystander in your own life because it's so much easier.

Doing nothing is doing something- being passive can be just as harmful.

#Oh boy if I was in Nat's life I'd've packed him into a box and shipped him off to therapy long ago #Listen I'm not a magician apologist per se....#But I do find playing devil's advocate for well -written baddies fun #And I am Nathaniells defence lawyer #I will not hear a word said against him #Just stressing that I do in fact like Mrs Underwood and Ms Lutyens I just wish they were a little stronger in sticking up for Nat #and I do hate mr Underwood #Simon lovelace tho.... I quite like him he can have a little space in the therapy box #I have a softspot for him because of the mannerisms that compare him to Nat okay???#Is it obvious I studied psychology at school 😅#Or that I am a huge Nat kinnie😅😅#Please don't hate me for this take #If anyone takes anything from this please let it be children copy everything they see you do including when you do nothing #This is quite tangential #bartseq #bartimaeus sequence #bartimaeus trilogy #bartimaeus #nathaniel underwood #liveblogging

102 notes · View notes

papillon-stories · 1 year ago

Text

Go Eunhyuk x reader ꕥ Argument headcanons ꕥ

OMG, I'm so sorry... ! 🫣 I was so caught up with classes and work!

I’m not blind to the requests you sent me, I just paused everything because these last few months were so intense. But I feel like writing about Eunhyuk is my only pleasure of the day (in my era delulu)

But I didn't give up, ehehe. In the meantime, here's a little headcanon, hoping you'll like it. I love you all! Please have an Eunhyuk in your life, it's important for your well-being.

Happy reading !

Warning : No warning, just a lot of fluff and broken English

He hates arguing with his s/o.

Most of the time, he is the mature one in the relationship. Most of the time.

Eunhyuk is generally very calm and not the type to start a fight, but he also has a bit of a temper.

In truth, arguments with Eunhyuk are very rare because he keeps a lot to himself, but like in any couple, arguments happen.

If something is bothering you, he will give you time to confide in him.

He wants to resolve the problem, but he tries to think about it on his own before discussing it with you.

It's important for him to understand the problem on his own (poor guy, he's going to get gray hairs from it).

If he can't find the solution himself and he sees that you're taking time to confide in him despite clearly showing your annoyance about something he might have done or said, he will eventually ask you directly what bothered you (at the right moment).

Generally, during a big argument, he prefers to leave if he feels his temper rising.

He doesn't avoid conflict, but he doesn't want to regret saying something mean out of anger.

Eunhyuk knows where it hurts, and when he's annoyed, he has a hard time holding back his words.

He can be very direct and straightforward.

He will take the time to calm down and come back to you when he's no longer heated.

You communicate a lot, and he doesn't want to be someone who leaves his significant other sad or angry at him... he doesn't want to be like his father.

Eunhyuk always takes your feelings into consideration and respects you a lot.

Because communication is good, but without understanding, it's useless.

If something annoys or saddens you, he won't dismiss your feelings and will simply try to fix it.

For him, there's always a solution.

Like you pointed out that this girl was crazy about him? She's already non-existent in his eyes.

But sometimes he finds your random outbursts of anger toward him amusing.

He finds it cute and doesn't take them too seriously.

"Why are you laughing? I'm serious."

There are no real reasons to be angry with each other.

Maybe out of jealousy?

YES ! In a relationship, he has no reason not to be honest with his feelings.

If something annoys him, he will probably take his time to talk to you about it.

He has enough trust in you to know that you won't hurt his feelings.

Despite his attitude, Eunhyuk is someone who thinks a lot.

He constantly questions himself.

The truth is, he will distance himself from you to sort out his thoughts because he knows that talking about it in the heat of the moment can escalate things.

You will notice his change and decide to talk to him about it.

Again, the last thing he wants is to hurt you.

But he knows that sometimes his silence can hurt more than harsh words, so he will come back quickly.

The best thing about your arguments is your reconciliations!

You cherish your relationship.

If he acted poorly, he will be the first to come to you and timidly apologize.

Conversely, if you are at fault, he will wait for you to take the first step.

He doesn't really expect apologies; he just wants you to understand his point of view.

Depending on the severity of the argument, he might ignore you at first.

Again, he needs time; he is constantly reflecting when it comes to you.

But he will never push you away if you come to make peace.

In essence, arguments are rare, but when they happen, you know how to handle them.

Thank you for reading ! Do you have any suggestions ? :)

#operation true love #operation true love x reader #go eunhyuk x reader #operation name pure love #operation pure love #pure love operation #go eunhyeok #eunhyuk x reader #go eunhyuk #eunhyeok #eunhyuk #go eunhyeok x reader #headcanon

312 notes · View notes

punkpandapatrixk · 1 year ago

Text

🐶The Moon’s Message to Your Inner Child ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

This PAC is in collaboration with @faerytreealtars and her part of the PAC covers a message from the Sun🌞Check out her PAC to get a full circle reading~🍃😉

["Wisdom from the Sun" – how to reach your divine self]

‘Do you like to draw with crayons? I’m not very good at it. But it doesn’t matter. It’s the fun of doing it that’s important. Now, I wouldn’t have made that if I’d just thought about it. No matter how anybody says it is, it feels good to have made something. The best thing is that each person’s would be different. In a way, you’ve already won in this world. Because you’re the only one who can be you. And that’s the way it’s supposed to be.’ – Mr Rogers

SONG: Take Me by Miso

MOVIE: Finding Neverland (2004) & Goodbye Christopher Robin (2017)

[PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Kinder and Kinder to Your Younger Self

VIBE: BAD MODE by Utada Hikaru

your heart’s secret desires – XIX The Sun

You are actually somebody who believes deeply in world peace. You desperately want to see the world become a sweetly welcoming place for all, especially children and animals. You have a belief that children and animals are so deserving of gentleness and safety. But you often forget that all adults are just as deserving of the same kindness we bestow children and cute animals.

At some point if Life, you grew up and became tough. I think you thought that you needed to become so. I think your environment made you believe it was important to become so tough the world you wouldn’t beat you to it. You’ve experienced quite a bit of hardships, too, so it was rather easy to fall prey to this cruel notion that adults must all toughen up.

‘If you’re tough with yourself, the world will be gentle with you.’ ??

Though it may seem like those words contain so much practical wisdom, deep down, your heart is terribly disturbed by it. There’s just something that’s not quite right about it. If everybody is hard on themselves… how can anybody be gentle with someone else?

in your element – 2 of Swords

Irrespective of what your Moon Sign is or where in your natal chart it is placed, you’re technically not a person who wants to toughen up. I think you’re a deeply sensitive Soul who still believes that patience and compassion can solve many of the world’s problems. Because in fact, your Higher Heart knows this to be true. You’re somebody who can make real compromises to accommodate the needs of others and you’re genuinely capable of real charity because you’re the type that tries to understand wholeheartedly where somebody else is coming from.

When you help others, you do so with their best interest at heart and you don’t even expect anything in return. When you are useful to other people, when your existence can improve other people’s life situations, you feel most like yourself. All that you hope for is that people are at minimum grateful because when people are grateful, they’re really only increasing their own ability to manifest even more ease and abundance. You’re not even expecting them to be grateful to you. My goodness, you must be God🤩

But uhm… You sure, honey, you’re not compromising way too much because you’re also somewhat people pleasing for a lack of gentleness in your childhood?

making dreams a Reality – V The Hierophant

See, The Sun is no.19 in the Major Arcana; that reduces to 10. The Hierophant is no.5 and this is telling me that you’re about halfway to manifesting all your dreams of ease and world peace. The half of your manifestation is already stored in your Higher Heart and you have nothing to worry about it. What you do need to focus on is learning to be kinder and gentler with your own younger self. You’re so kind and accommodating to others but often forget that you need tender care yourself.

There’s a possibility that you grew up with stern adults who didn’t know how to be gentle with children. You grew up being a victim to this kind of behaviour so you overcompensate by being overly nice to others because you don’t want to become like them. But you’re still hard on yourself because this is like already programmed in your subconscious, and if you notice, you have a tendency to also be quite stern with those closest to you. And wow… that often kinda gets messy.

Can you imagine if you became a parent yourself? You could become a perpetrator of a cycle of old people pointing fingers at young people who are still trying to figure out their place in the world. I don’t think you’d be happy with yourself in your older years when you realise you haven’t broken this pattern yourself. I believe you’re someone who wants to leave a legacy of a more peaceful nature🍂It begins by creating a new world by creating a new you, after forgiving yourself for past mistakes you made when you didn’t yet know so much🍃

INNER ALCHEMY🔻❤️

balancing logic and emotions – Silver Astrologer (John Dee)

speaking with conviction – Priestess of Inspiration

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Baby Venus, You Came Here to Beautify This World

VIBE: Forever by aespa

your heart’s secret desires – Ace of Cups

You are for sure a Lightworker. Maybe even a Starseed. Or something of a cosmic mystic. Could also be from the faery or elven realm. The point is, your Soul is deeply connected to a realm other than this Earth we perceive consciously right now. That makes your heart EXTRA pure and sparkly because the essence of your being is more refined, baby!

What does it even mean to be Human? Often you don’t have an answer to that. Only thing is, a lot of things about common human conducts that seem to denote their humanness don’t seem all too humane for you. It’s like you’re wondering, ‘If these are the traits that make people Human… then what am I? Because I certainly am not that harsh, deceitful, destructive, or whatever else!’

You have a strong morality about you and you should damn well honour this. The Human world is ugly, indeed, and from your place of beauty, your Soul volunteered to be born here to teach Humans about beauty. Beauty is nice. Beauty is good. Beauty elevates the Human Spirit and if only more people would open themselves to the possibilities, surely everyone would be a lot happier than they are now.

That’s your philosophy, more or less✨🪷

in your element – VI The Lovers Rx

You may resonate to a large extent with being an activist of sort. Whether or not you call yourself an activist or are involved in any real activist project, you know deep down that you’ve always been an activist before even knowing such a term exists. You want to fight for something good in this world. You want to bring an end to all these uncomfortable things that you are witnessing being perpetuated in the Human world. Problem is…

It's been quite hard for you to find people who are on the same bandwidth of frequency as yourself. I think you have a lifelong mission to find your Soul Tribe whilst being incarnate on Earth. I mean, your kind is far and between, honey. It may take some time to find each other and unite for a good cause.

Although you may feel misunderstood and lonely from time to time, the way I see it, you could view this whole journey to finding kindred spirits as a wholesome adventure story. Like a fairy tale, you know. After all, you are a faery. Your Life Story has a purpose to beautify the human spirit later when all’s weaved together to create a grander story with your kindred spirits. It’s all written in the stars already, so might as well enjoy the story writing itself from now🧚🏻‍♀️

making dreams a Reality – II The High Priestess

For you really aren’t of this world, I sense that you actually possess some kind of a superpower. Sure, others might think you’re a weirdo (even a freak for some of you) and that your interests and hobbies are strange and taboo. But what do they know? These mortals are prisoners of their own fake realities.

Since you were a kid, you’ve always known there are holes within this perceived reality and somehow, you’ve always believed there are ways you can bend reality with thought alone. You kinda just didn’t know exactly how that works, you just know it. Like breathing—unless you’ve studied biology, you wouldn’t know how to explain how breathing works but you just know that it happens and how it feels. Something like that.

Your connection to your personal spirituality, your personal occult practices, and everything else of that nature, holds the key to making your Divine Dreams a part of this mortal reality. It’s a beautiful process that only you can experience in your own divine ways, so I can’t tell you what to do exactly to manifest your Destiny. You’ve just gotta keep going at what you know to be your truth🧜🏻‍♀️

And the truth is, you are a magical being who doesn’t even play in the same dimension as the mortals😉Keep doing your magical shit!

INNER ALCHEMY🔻💗

balancing logic and emotions – Silver Astronomer (Galileo Galilei)

speaking with conviction – Priestess of Illumination

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – Don’t Kill Your Dreams No Matter How Wild

VIBE: Anata (Darling) by Utada Hikaru

your heart’s secret desires – 5 of Cups

Hellow, wildchild. It seems you’ve been through quite a bit in Life. There was something in your childhood that erupted in ways your child mind couldn’t have anticipated and it broke you emotionally and spiritually. You’re a pretty logical person, actually, so there’s a part of you that’s been wishing you could get over this heartache. But it hasn’t been easy, at all.

The reason for that is that you care too much. Because you’re incredibly sensitive and kind, you couldn’t help but care. Your heart gets easily disturbed by any small distortion you perceive in this Matrix Reality. You have spidey senses for this kind of thing. Your inner world is so expansive and this is partly why you always feel like you want to help. You want justice to win over evil.

You tend to feel like you’re the one who has to be strong and prove everything to everyone. Not only are you helpful, but you’re truly heroic! That’s how I see it😎The problematic thing is… human beings are not exactly a grateful bunch, so… Maybe being so helpful and heroic isn’t always the best way to nurture your Soul whilst living in this human world?

in your element – Page of Wands Rx

I’m not saying you should stop caring and become a coldhearted bitch. But perhaps posing to be one is a good strategy to preserve your sanity?😜The truth of the matter is that you’re really too precious for this world. You know when people say, ‘We don’t deserve this man or woman or dog or cat.’ You’re exactly like that.

Your passion for making the world a better place is often used against you. I’m kind of thinking of someone like Elon Musk in your case. He was bullied badly at school, but look what he’s doing now. He’s making attempts to improve the lives of everybody that even those bullies are bound to benefit from his passionate work. The haters today are probably gonna benefit just the same, right?

Well, I’m a coldhearted bitch, so my petty view is that these losers don’t deserve to benefit from the works of Elon Musk LMAO But what do you think of yourself? I know that in this lifetime you are going to make great leaps that will improve the lives of those you care about. But what about your heart? Will you be able to forgive those who have made hell out of your Life? Or will you become a vengeful barbie bitch who shows them the door to hell of their own making?

It’s up to you and it should be a very exciting spectacle to anticipate👻

making dreams a Reality – XII The Hanged Man Rx

The Hanged Man is a card that has some relations to The Lovers (to think you even get the Priestess of Love for the bonus content🤯). The Hanged Man often talks about compromises and sacrifices. It’s like, when you love and care so much you’re bound to make sacrifices because the world is far from utopian. In an ideal world we wouldn’t have to hurt just to manifest blessings and abundance, for ourselves or everybody else. But… this is what we have, so…

But although this world is messy and hurtful, it wouldn’t be wise for you to reduce the brilliance of your dreams just to avoid heartache or disappointments. You’re avantgarde; not that many people can see the value of what you wish to achieve with your talents. Never kowtow to the convention. Although you’re helpful and a very pleasant person to be around, you’ve got your own big dreams that are needed by the community. I think you just haven’t allowed yourself to fully embrace this idea.

Know that you’re supported by the cosmos in pursuing to improve what you know to be your true talents. One day, the world will be so grateful that you never gave up on your Light. But when that day comes, what’s your care? Gratitude is the least of your concerns. Basically you just want to live on your own terms and create magical pathways for the world to enter into🌏Whilst at it, might as well do whatever you like🌞

INNER ALCHEMY🔻🧡

balancing logic and emotions – Gold Historian (Raphael Holinshed)

speaking with conviction – Priestess of Love

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]

322 notes · View notes