#its not a talent that you're born with
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salemlunaa · 4 months ago
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SHIFTING ISNT MAGIC, ITS NOT SPECIAL ꨄ
you need to understand that if you ever want to leave this place….
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i feel like me and so many bloggers have stated this but for the millionth time, here we go!!
you cannot fail to shift, nope. sorry. idc what you think, it genuinely isn’t possible, manifesting is shifting, wether you have manifested actual things you wanted or you’ve manifested that awful mindset where you are so sure you can’t shift and tap in to the void, you still shifted to a reality where that was true by manifesting it.
Stop thinking shifting is impossible, it isnt, like at all. The reason you fail is because you think this is impossible and that you're using some magic method to live a new life but you’re not, there are infinite realities and the idea that you have your dream life is the fact in many realities, so for those who wanted the logical side to thinks there you go, it has been proven that we live in a multiverse, so shift your consciousness to a reality where you have all you have dreamt of. the void isn't some magical place it is in you, it IS you, you need to remember that
I saw this absolutely perfect analogy on @rainshifts page: think of the universe as a chocolate chip cookie and the different realities as the chocolate chips. When we shift consciousness, we aren't jumping from chocolate chip to chocolate chip, we are the batter the ingredients we ARE all those chips, not jumping to and from them. We are not new characters in our desired realities we ARE those realities
The reality in which you want to be in isn’t some faraway place where you are new character, that reality is in you, it is you, all you are seeing now IS you. You are the fabric, nothing less
Shifting consciousness isn’t special, if you have a brain you are more than capable of shifting consciousness, again, we were born for this, it’s not some special, magical talent, it’s something that is as simple as breathing, something that has been owed to us since the beginning. Stop asking bloggers the same questions, if you have the intent it can be instant, you need to remember shifting isn't some form of magic, it's a basic human ability that only requires the brain. you're just shifting consciousness, you're just shifting your awareness to a specific reality, it's not magic or some cool discovery you can do it instantly if you believe that you're god of your reality
believe that you are the operant power and it’s done, look to imagination, you have shifted because it’s as easy as breathing the void is a lifeless space that only gains power when YOU, PURE CONSCIOUSNESS step into the equation.
The reality you’re in now only has life to it because you’re consciousness has been placed here, shift it with ease simply because you can.
STOP MOPING ABOUT HOW HARD THIS IS, ITS REALLY NOTHING SPECIAL 🐆💋
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sturnsdarling · 5 months ago
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You're much better company, tough girl
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fratboy!matt has met his match with smartand'mean'!reader, and he can't get enough of her
vibe check: SMUT, mattthemunch, unprotected cuddle time (I'd tell you to wrap it but i'm not your mother) bigdick!matt, choking, spitting, praise, reader strumming the bean, pet names (angel, tough girl), all that good stuff.
4k words
A/N: This concept was born from and is my take on the wonderful, amazing and ridiculously talented @sturnioz fratboy!matt au, and its also my first fic so, be kind.
love and cigs, merc
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The autumn air was cold, and the fishnets on your legs weren’t doing you any favours. you’d snuck out the party to escape the weirdo guy that was basically stalking you since you had arrived. You'd hoped to find your friend, but she was somewhere tangled up with one of the resident frat boys, her shy demeanour acting like catnip to the renowned player Chris Sturniolo. You found yourself outside the front of the house, genuinely considering leaving, but knowing your friend would need company once Chris inevitably got bored of her. From around the corner, you heard  a lighter flick and the deep inhale that normally follows, turning and walking down to the side of the house, you saw a shadowy figure being periodically illuminated by the butt of his cigarette. 
"What're you doin’ out here?" you questioned, walking over to Matt who was leant against the side of the house, trying to escape the "new age, shit rap music" Chris put on.
Matt held up the cig in his fingers and gave you a short smile, before placing the cigarette between his lips and taking a long drag, his jawline becoming even more prominent as his cheeks hollowed slightly. 
"Thought you didn't smoke?" you said, arms folded over your chest as the cold air bit at your nearly bare legs. 
"I don't smoke weed, but, I do love my cigs" He held the open box out to you and you pulled one out, placing it between your lips gently. He brandished his silver lighter in front of your face and lit the cigarette, absentmindedly staring at the way the flame illuminated your features. 
"Chris is the stoner, kid fuckin' loves it" He said as he flicked the lighter closed and placed it back in his pocket. 
"Cigarettes still contain drugs, y'know that right?" You smirked, taking a drag and letting the smoke come out with every word. 
"Yes, smart-ass I know that" He quipped back, "everyone needs a vice, you know?" 
You giggled slightly as his philosophy, "a vice? you need something to help you escape the plaguing reality of being a frat bro?”, smiling as you placed the cig between your teeth and took another drag.
“Ugh, don't call me that" he responded, spitting the foul taste out of his mouth onto the floor, "besides..." He paused to take a drag, "If I was a frat bro, which I'm not, I could have a plaguing sense of reality, frat boys have feelings too you know, kid" he smiled, his perfect teeth almost reflecting the light from the street lamps. 
“oh, do tell, what plagues the infamous Matthew Sturniolo" you grinned at him, rolling your eyes in faux sympathy.
"Infamous? ouch.” He held his hand to his chest, pretending to be offended. 
Pausing for a moment, he looked at you and then to the floor, shuffling where he leant slightly and shrugging his shoulders, "I dunno, l've always got somthin' going on up there" He gestured to his temple with the cig in his fingers.
“But, 'nough about me, what're you doin' out here?" he asked, desperately trying to change the topic from himself, pointing his cigarette at you in an accusatory
"Came lookin’ for you" you said, blowing the smoke from your pursed lips. 
His eyebrows raised at your confession, "Me?" He questioned. 
"mhm" You nodded, taking another drag. 
“Why?” his brows furrowed as smoke bellowed out his open mouth. 
“I didn’t actually, jus' thought you’d like the flattery” You chuckled, ashing your cigarette.
“wow, okay, how tough are you?” He smirked, standing up from his leant position and throwing his cigarette to the floor, just before stamping it out. 
“Me? tough? never.” You said sarcastically, placing your cigarette back in your mouth. 
Matt came forward slightly and pulled the tiny stick from your lips, placing it between his own and taking a drag whilst maintaining a firm stare. You watched him intently, your big eyes burning holes into his as he placed the cigarette back into your mouth. 
“You didn’t answer my question, kid” he said, his tone faltering as he blew the smoke from his mouth.
a long huff left your mouth as you rolled your eyes, “I needed to escape this guy, he was fuckin’ relentless and I was not into it”. 
Matt paused for a moment, still baring down into you, “yeah?” half of his teeth coming onto display as a smirk encapsulated his face, “what are you into?” he asked, tilting his head to the side slightly so he was even closer to you, his breath nearly touching the cold apples of your cheeks. 
As he was speaking you took a long drag, and in response to his clear attempt to rile you up, you blew the smoke into his face with pursed lips and a smile. Matt blinked slowly with raised brows at your bravery, letting the wind carry the smoke from his face. 
“What do you think i’m into, Matthew?” you asked, matching his earlier cadence. 
“I think, you act all tough, but really, you want someone to tell you to sit down, shut up, and to take it like the pretty, pretty girl you are” he said, so non-challant you’d think he was explaining that the sky is blue. 
Your breath hitched in your chest, and your eyes fluttered slightly, not quite fully closing. 
A cheshire cat smile formed on Matts face, he knew exactly what type of girl you were from the moment he laid eyes on you on the first day of the semester. 
“You think I’m pretty?” you asked in a condescending tone, pulling your confidence back, trying to ignore the growing sensation in your stomach. 
Matt simply nodded in response, tucking a messy strand of hair behind your ear and letting his fingers trail down past your neck and over your bare arms. At some point during your back and forth, Matt had edged his face impossibly close to yours, he hooked a finger under your chin and pulled your head up to face him, 
“I think you’re beautiful, tough girl” he whispered, almost into your mouth as it parted with his words. 
With that, you threw your cigarette to the floor and thrust your lips into his, the force pushing him backwards to into the wall he was leant on only moments ago. His hands found your waist, pulling you in tight against him as yours pulled and tugged at the loose brown curls on the back of his head. The kiss was feverish, animalistic and messy, you were positioned snug between his legs as one of his hands found its way to the covered flesh of your ass, he squeezed it with a low growl and slapped it quickly after, rubbing the sting away with a soft hand. The sensation caused you to whimper into his mouth, jolting against him as his hand smacked your ass. He chuckled into the kiss, his hands roaming all the way up your back and into your hair. He pulled you off him with a firm hand wrapped around the back of your neck.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you make noises like that” he dipped his head down, capturing your neck in his teeth and soothing the sting with a flat, warm tongue. 
“Matt” you whispered, your head hanging on your shoulders, resting in Matts large palm. “What’s up, angel?” he murmured from the curve where your neck and shoulders meet.
“I’m not—shit— I’m not gonna fuck you round the side of your house” You manage to get out, slightly distracted by the sensation of Matt nipping at sucking at your neck. 
“Let’s go inside then” You even mentioning fucking him was enough permission to take your hand and drag you inside. 
The music boomed against your skull as he pulled you through the party with your hand in his, both of you ignoring everyone that tried to spark up some kind of drunken conversation. He led you up the large staircase in the centre of the main room, his focus on your destination only faltering to glance at Chris who, had your best friend tucked under his arm on the sofa, the pair exchanged a knowing look and Chris shot Matt a wink, quickly returning his attentions to the shy girl perched next to him. As you and Matt reached the top of the staircase, he turned, pulling you into him for the second time that night for a desperate kiss. This time, he leant down, taking the backs of your thighs in his hands with a tap that you knew meant ‘jump’. You obliged and within moments, you were being thrust into his dimly lit bedroom. He kicked the door closed with his foot, never breaking the kiss, and walked the two of you over to his bed, placing you down somewhat gently onto the brown satin sheets. 
“You’re so pretty, y’know that?” he said breathlessly, breaking the kiss to tear off his red sweatshirt. 
“I think you mentioned it once or twice” You replied, desperately clawing at the back of his neck to pull him back into you, your legs loose around his waist. 
“Such a smart-ass” he groaned, his hand suddenly gripping your throat as he pushed you back down onto his sheets, squeezing the sides of your neck. 
You moaned at the sensation, brows furrowing as your hips involuntarily bucked upwards. Matt chucked at your responsiveness, his hand trailing down your chest to toy with the hem of your top. 
“Can I take this off?” He asked, softly. 
“mhm” you nodded, desperately. 
“Words, angel, I need words” he halted his movements, his voice stern. 
“Yes, Matt, take it off, please”  The pleading in your tone evident, despite your attempt to be moody. 
“Begging already? I knew I’d like you” with that he pulled your top over your head and left you exposed in your lacy black bra, your hard nipples perking through the sheer fabric. 
“Fuck” Matt uttered under his breath, his large hands roaming around your nearly bare torso. 
He couldn’t help himself, he leant down, pulling the thin fabric from your tit and wrapped his mouth around your hardened nipple, grinding down onto your core as he did, chasing the friction. Your head rolled back at the feeling, and as if on instinct, your hips rolled against his. Matt trailed his kisses down your stomach, each one igniting a hot fire all over your skin. He hooked his fingers round the hem of your skirt, still trailing hot, wet kisses down your heaving torso. He looked up at you, being met with your pleading eyes staring down at him.
“Can I?” he tugged slightly at your skirt. 
“yes, please” you nodded frantically, lifting your hips up to aid him in removing the fabric that separated his mouth from your aching cunt. 
“Such a fast learner, such a good girl” he smiled as he pulled your skirt down over your knees, leaving you in nothing but your bra, fishnets and thin black panties. 
“Jesus christ” he said as he perched on his knees by the edge of the bed, “these are staying on” he said, caressing your legs with firm hands. 
He edged his hands further down towards your core, spreading your thighs apart for him as he lowered himself down, hooking your legs over his shoulders. As his hands reached where you ached for him the most, he pressed firm fingers across your pussy, rubbing upwards and finishing his movement with a short circle of both of his thumbs over your throbbing clit. With one quick motion, he ripped a hole in your fishnets, exposing your dripping cunt to him as your wetness seeped through the thin fabric of your thong. His eyes might as well have sparkled at the sight, 
“Look at that, tough girl, you’re all wet over me taking charge” he said, taking a finger and swiping it up the wetness that had collected  at the entrance to your pussy. 
You whimpered, bucking your hips once again at the stimulation, whining slightly in attempts to coax him into touching you properly. 
“I need to taste you, angel, can I?” he asked, like a boy begging to stay up to see Santa on christmas morning. 
“Yes, Matt, please, fuckin' hurry up already” you whine, desperate and aching for any sense of relief from this agonising feeling. 
He didn’t need any more permission, with a low hum (more like a fucking growl), he pulled your soaked panties to the side with vigour and latched his mouth around your clit. Your back arched off the bed immediately, his tongue sending sweet euphoria up your spine as it toyed with your sensitive bud. The moan that escaped you was pornographic, and it only egged him on further. He slipped his tongue into your entrance, lapping at the juices that seeped from your hole as his thumb found your clit, moving in slow circles over the sensitive bud. He moaned into your pussy, as if he was getting off on eating you out, the vibrations from his groaning only adding to the knot growing in your stomach. Your hands found his hair, tugging at the messy brown curls that covered his beautiful face as he devoured you. 
“Fuck, Matt, that feels so fucking good” you cried out, tears pricking at your eyes as he moved once more to suck on your clit. 
His fingers swirled and prodded at your slick entrance, your walls nearly sucking him in as they clenched around nothing. He took your incessant moans as invitation to insert two long fingers all the way inside of you, curling up into that perfect gummy spot as he did. Your thighs clenched around his head, tensing and shaking as he brought you to the edge. He raised himself up slightly, pushing your legs apart with his forearms and pinning you down under his weight, his fingers relentlessly curling into you as he sucked and lapped at your clit, desperate to make you come undone all over his mouth. You tugged at his curls once more, earning a deep groan from him that vibrated around your clit and, that feeling, coupled with the warm pressure of his body weight on your thighs and his intense, animalistic eye contact, sent you over the edge. Your orgasm ripped through you, your whole body shaking as you moaned his name over and over again, bucking your hips up into his face as he continued his pace, mercilessly lapping at your sopping pussy. You started to tether on the edge of overstimulation just as he pulled his mouth from you, his fingers still pumping in and out of your dripping cunt. You stared down at him with fluttery eyes, your fingers caressing his scalp as he helped you ride out your orgasm with a tender smile and tiny bites down the inside of your thigh. 
He pulled his fingers from you and got to his feet, the bed shifted under his weight as he brought himself up to hover over you. 
He traced the outline of your plump lips with the tip of his finger, asking for invitation. You obliged and opened your mouth, exposing a flat tongue to him. 
“Taste how sweet you are, angel. fuckin’ delicious” He said, placing his fingers on your tongue before edging them down your throat, watching intently as you gagged around them. 
He chuckled slightly at your submissiveness, pulling his fingers from your throat and trailing them down your chin. He placed a firm palm on the front of your neck and pulled you into a kiss, his face still wet from your cum. You whimpered into the kiss, frantic hands moving down in between you in attempts to unbutton his jeans. He smiled into the kiss and squeezed the sides of your throat with his fingers, bucking his hips into your hands as they freed him of the confines of the thick denim. He assisted you in pushing his jeans down his legs, not once breaking the kiss as he expertly shuffled them off and kicked them across the room. He crawled back on top of you and pushed you further up the bed, with one hand on the back of your thigh and the other round your neck, he hooked your leg over his waist and began to grind down into your sensitive core, the fabric of his black boxers giving just the right amount of friction between you. 
“Matt, I need you inside of me, now.” you whine, the demand sending shivers up Matts spine as he locked eyes with you. 
“What’s the magic word, pretty girl” He smirked, you rolled your eyes in response and brought your other leg to hook around his waist, your feet locking him in. 
“Please, matt” you reluctantly (you loved it) begged. 
“So good for me, angel” he smiled as your hands snaked their way into his boxers, palming his hard cock. 
Your eyes widened slightly at the size and he noticed, a sense of pride washing over him, “Bigger than you thought it would be?” he smirked.
 A wave of nervousness overcame you but you pushed it down, biting your lip and tightening your grip on his throbbing member, “I always knew you’d be huge, the quiet ones always are” you said, pumping him slowly. 
He couldn’t help but rut into your hand, his head falling into the curve of your neck as he palmed your tit, pinching at your hard nipple whilst his other hand left bruises on your thigh. Small whispers left his mouth and fell onto your skin, his warm breath only turning you on even more. You pushed his boxers down completely and he kicked them off, looking down at where you were attempting to line him up with your weeping entrance. 
“So needy, huh? tough girl? lemme help you angel” He pressed his tip against your folds and aided you in guiding himself into your slick walls. 
The feeling of him stretching you out made your back arch off the bed, your hands flying to the sheets for some sort of leverage. He chuckled slightly, slowly thrusting his leaking tip in and out of you, letting you adjust to his size inch by inch as he trailed soft kisses down your jaw and neck, biting every so often only to sooth the sting with his warm tongue. 
The feeling was euphoric, he was somehow keeping you between feeling completely satisfied and overstimulated all at once. 
“fuck, angel” he drew out, “y'so fuckin’ tight and m'not even half way in— Jesus christ- y'gonna be the death of me” he grunted, capturing your open mouth in a wet and tender kiss, his tongue pressed against yours as he thrusted into you completely, bottoming out. 
You both moan at the feeling, your legs tensed around his waist and your arms found home draped over his shoulders, hands tangled in his hair. 
He pulled out of you almost entirely, still kissing you mercilessly before thrusting into you again, this time with a lot more force. You moaned into his mouth, tugging at his hair to counter the sting of your pussy, blissfully stretched out around him and aching for him to move faster. 
Matt broke the kiss, taking your jaw in his hand and squeezing your mouth open, he gathered a ball of spit in his mouth and lowered it towards yours. You caught it on your tongue and swallowed it with a smile as he watched in awe.
“You’re perfect” he uttered, leaning down to kiss your squished lips before releasing your jaw and earning another smile from you. 
With that, he set a relentless pace, fucking you into the bed with each hard thrust. You moaned out his name, pulling him in impossibly close to you with both your grip round his waist and your hands in his hair. His head fell next to yours, hot breath panting in your ear as he moaned and whimpered at the feeling of your slick walls clenching around him. 
“Fuck matt, you're so big, stretching me out s’much, oh my fucking god” you trail off, your words bouncing with every merciless thrust. 
“Take it angel, fuckin’ take it, I know you can” he panted into your ear, sucking on the lobe. 
He slowed his pace but fucked you harder, each thrust inciting a pornographic moan from your lips. 
“you sound s'good when you moan, so fuckin’ sexy” he groaned, pounding into you harder just to earn those beautiful whimpers from you. 
His tip formed a bulge in your lower stomach, poking out of you over and over again as he hit your g-spot, bringing you closer to the edge for the second time that night. You brought a hand up to his mouth, silently asking for permission to collect some spit from the pad of his tongue, he obliged, biting your fingers slightly before you pulled them from his mouth and placed them down between the two of you, rubbing fast circles over your clit. The stimulation made your walls clench around him, milking his painfully hard cock. 
“Fuck, oh my, fuck, keep doing that, pretty girl, keep touching yourself for me” his command comes out in a near whimper. 
“Matt, m'gonna— “ before you could even finish your sentence, your orgasm hit you like a freight train, your thighs shaking around his waist as white hot tingles covered your entire body, you clenched your eyes shut and all you could see was stars as you came all over his dick. 
“You’re clenching me so hard right now angel, y'gonna make me cum, look at me pretty girl, please, let me see those pretty eyes” Matt rambled as his high was rapidly approaching, his pace quickening as his movements became sloppy, 
“cum inside me, please matt, I need it” you cried out, still reeling in the after shock of your crippling orgasm. 
With your pleading, he realised strings of warm cum inside you, coating your walls as he fucked his seed into you, riding out his orgasm, shaking and trying desperately not to buckle completely on top of you. 
He thrusted in and out a few more times before reluctantly pulling out, the cold air hitting his softening cock as he fell down next to you, immediately bringing you into his side and pulling at your limbs so you were lazily draped over him. 
You laid there, panting in each others arms, both trying to catch your breath as the sound of the party suddenly became more prominent from the other side of his bedroom door. “You” he said, still catching his breath, “are incredible.” He turned his head to look down at you.
“You’re not too bad yourself, Matthew” you smiled, bringing your finger to trace along his pink bottom lip. 
He watched as you admired the plump skin for a moment and with a smile, he bit the tip of your finger. You giggled and pulled your hand from his mouth, resting it on his now steady chest. 
“Can I see you again?” he asked, captivated by the way your face lights up when you laugh. 
“If you actually start coming to classes, you’ll see me all the time” you taunted him.
“Oh, I’m gonna have the best fuckin’ attendance in this whole college” he responded, pulling you fully on top of him. 
You squealed at the sudden movement and shifted to straddle his lap. You sat up, looking down at him as he tugged and needed at the flesh around your hips. 
“They’re all probably wondering where you are” you said, referring to the hoard of people in his home. 
“Fuck ‘em, they’re all losers anyway” he leant up closer to you, a sneaky hand came and wrapped itself around your neck, pulling you desperately close to his face.
“You’re much better company, tough girl” he whispered through a smile before capturing your mouth in a tender yet rough kiss.
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pseudowho · 1 year ago
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Still got it
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Artwork by Mmiyoart (2021)
The kids are teenagers, so you and Kento are just their boring parents...right?
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Imagine you and Nanami Kento as parents, but older now, in your forties, and the kids are teenagers at Jujutsu High (much to Kento's displeasure and concern).
The two of you always kept your work life separate to home; the kids knew what the two of you do of course, they all know Curses and Cursed techniques, your two daughters and a son being in possession of these talents themselves.
But you and Kento never come home in mission-wear. You're always patched up by Shoko, one of your oldest and dearest friends, before you walk through the door. Kento never winces as he cooks dinner in a fresh shirt, but behind your bedroom door at night, you gently push his shirt off his shoulders and bathe his wounds, gently kissing his bruises, his head resting back between your breasts as your arms curl round him from behind. You never discuss your kills in front of the kids, the evenings instead, full of talk of exams, arguments with best friends, chastising for using phones at dinner time.
You and Kento make sure you barely overlap at Jujutsu High, teaching students in the other years instead. Your daughters and your son know, in a vague way, that you're both respected First and Second Grade sorcerers in your own right, but to them you're just mum and dad.
Until, one day, that changes. Your three kids, all promising Second Grade sorcerers, and committed to the cause, get into trouble. The Curse they're sent to eliminate is so much stronger than they imagined. Your eldest daughter fights on bravely as your son carries their sister, wounded, to safety. All three are filled with terror as the Curse begins to overwhelm them, their short lives with you and Kento, their adoring parents, flashing in front of their eyes, wondering how the two of you would ever recover from their deaths.
Then, in a flash of black and red, Nanami Kento steps into the fight. A colossal wave of Cursed energy rolls over the children, stunned, breathless, eyes wide as their father, who does maths homework with them, who kisses them all goodnight at bedtime, who bakes at the weekends, instead now ruthlessly, effortlessly wipes the floor with the Curse that nearly killed his babies.
Kento is a demon in battle, tie ripped off, blunt blade whirling, his battle-hardened body just as imposing and lithe as it was in the years before the kids were born. The hands that held theirs when they were tiny, that threw them around ever-so-gently during play-fights, now wielded as weapons with murderous intent.
Even more alarmed are the children, when you appear beside Kento, and as the Curse staggers on its last legs, they hear you shout to Kento- "Throw me!" and, with not an ounce of hesitation, Kento tosses you like a rugby ball, for you to land the killing blow on the Curse.
You are smooth, meticulous, concentrated while making light work of a messy job. The children hear their father hum in approval of you as you take the Curse to task for its crimes against your babies.
Not even sparing the withering corpse a glance, you and Kento rush to your children. You hold your son and eldest daughter's faces, eyes full of tears as you check them all over for damage, their hearts swelling when you praise them for taking care of each other, for doing such a fantastic job holding out until you both arrived.
Kento drops to his knees beside his wounded youngest daughter, gripping her close to him, no less mighty and powerful after years of marriage and raising children. Nanami Kento manages the first and only reverse-cursed technique heal of his whole life, and repairs his daughter's wounds. He holds her to him and weeps quietly as she reassures him, wholly her mother's daughter. Kento grips his son gently around the back of the neck, pulling him down for a tight hug, his son almost breaking at Kento's familiar rumble praising him for prioritising his sister's safety, telling his son he's so proud of the man he's becoming.
Days later, and with the children now recovered, rumours of Nanami-sensei and Nanami-sensei's scathing criticism of and attack on the higher-ups is the talk of the Jujutsu High students. The children are silent throughout, still stunned by the overwhelming skill of their parents.
One of the other students jokingly raises the incident to your kids one day; "Oh man. I wouldn't like to have your parents mad at me. I'd never get over disappointing them."
"Are they...that much of a big deal?" your son asks his friend weakly. His friend raises his eyebrows, amazed, laughing.
"You mean the one and only legends, the Nanami-sensei's? Who the hell did you guys think raised you?"
You and Kento walk down the steps towards them, hands brushing together but not holding, keen to maintain professionalism at school. The children watch as your eyes meet his, love passing between you both, and wonder how they had thought of you as their boring mum and dad for all these years.
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katkit14 · 1 year ago
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What's its like being a female in all the Dorms
So I was making characters from my last idea and then it came to me. Headcanons for being the only female in each dorm!
Prompt : So rundown, you are the only female student in the whole school. You were an a talented young woman who was reached out to, as a great opportunity for NRC to open their doors to both females and males alike. (in reality Crowley just thinks girls on campus would be less rowdy then all boys. Means less work for him. Or maybe it's cause RSA started to, and Crowley is offended. Either way you are here now!)
Warnings : Reader isn't yuu/Mc. Reader is born female. mentions of sexism and harrsement. A little cussing to. Mentions of Periods and Bras.
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Heartslabyul
Riddle would be just as hard on you as the other freshmen. He sees you no differently. Male, female? Doesn't matter, you are still a student. You must obey all the rules to a Tea (get it?). If you don't then it's off with your head just like everyone else. Which if your sorted into this dorm there is good chance you are okay with that. I could see you being more a stickler for rules but even if your not at least riddle is fair.
If you're more chaotic and less strict then Riddle would treat you like Ace. Don't think you are getting away with things just because you act all innocent. He will make you write a 100-page essay on what you did wrong and why you won't do it again. That's if it's after his overblot. If not then it's "OFF WITH YOUR HEADU".
Though if you were forced into a bedroom with boys, Riddle might raise a fuss saying it's improper and get you your own bedroom. He will make the mistake of going through Crowley though.
Trey wouldn't act any different either. He'd also just see you as another freshmen. Carter though, he would avoid you. Like oh no, he has sisters. He "knows" what girls are like. He will warm up to you though.
Ace will flirt so much with you it's unreal. Cheesy pick up lines, smooth one liners, etc. He'll become annoying with it. Like get a spray bottle kind of annoying. Deuce is the opposite. He is super respectful and always a gentleman to you. He may become less stern if you befriend him but he'll always be a bit soft around you. If you ask, he'll beat ace up.
Now the rest or heartslabyul really doesn't react to you, you're kinda just another student. No one looks out for you but no one in the dorm harrases you. Now when it comes to female stuff, everyone in this dorm gets real awkward about it. On your period and are Bleeding through your WHITE dorm uniform? Everyone swet drops but only a few people speak up. If you do end up having to share a dorm room (even with riddle throwing a fit) the other boys in the room would be respectful and change in a bathroom instead of the room. They also would allow you access to the bathroom first ( unless it's ace. Then he pushes you out the way saying "Ladies first my ass" ).
Anyone who harrases you will face Riddles wrath though. Oh and the one brain cell duo. Riddle will be more proper by lecturing them but if the One brain cell duo gets ahold of them, then lights out.
Savanaclaw
Leona let's you off easier then the other students. Mostly cause he is mildly intimidated by you. He knows you aren't a beastman, but it's still ingrained into him to respect females. So if you just stand up to him and be like "yeah no" he won't really fight you. If you are on the softer side, he'd slowly but surely start to have a soft spot for you. He'd still respect you, even if you weren't a fighter. He'd just be more of an asshole if you didn't scare him as much.
If you were forced to share a room, it wouldn't be long before you had your own room since there are a lot of drop outs. Leona would put in the hardwork of making ruggie clear you out a room to yourself.
Ruggie's mostly the same way, he mostly respects you and your stuff. He won't take your stuff either just because of that slight fear. If you befriend him, he'll be more likely to share his food with you then with a guy.
Jack mostly treats you as an equal. No more, no less. Though he can be kinda awkward at first, once you befriend him he's a lot more chill.
Now the rest of Savanaclaw is spilt into two. Seeing you are the mom of Savanaclaw or being sexiest against you. If you are a fighter then you can easily put the sexiest ones in their place. If not, Jack can do it for you. Mostly the ones who see you as mom, would go to war for you. Like you are highly respected. Now if you accept the title then it's a whole lot of caring for dumbass's after fights, and making sure everyone hydrates after work outs. If you don't accept it, it doesn't matter cause they aren't dropping it. But you can kick their ass if they get to annoying.
During sports you have a whole line of bestmen and humans alike cheering for you! Like personal cheerleaders. And during school hours you have a bunch of guys coming through checking up on you, seeing if you are okay. They gotta take care of their dorm mom.
If you get your period, the whole dorm knows. Fun fact, period blood doesn't smell like fresh blood so they know it's your period to. Expect to find a basket of chocolate at your door, with a note saying " please accept this, in return don't kill us."
Octavinelle
Azul has a different opinion depending on what you are like.
I imagine if you got sorted into this dorm then you are more like a shady capitalist. If that's the case then he constantly feels threatened by you and has the Twins keep an eye on you.
If you are more Naive or more sweet then he is a lot less afraid and he puts you to work at the Lounge. Like as a hostess or a waitress, in order to lure more costumers.
If you were forced to share a room with boys he'd arrange another room for you...for a price. Man has no chill.
Jade doesn't really treat you any differently. More or less isn't fazed. He will still beat you up if he has to, and it won't make him go softer on you.
Floyd also doesn't care. He treats you the same as well. Honesty I could see him forgetting you are a girl. If you are a bit curvier he will squish you more. If you are the skinny side he likes to shake you. He swears you raddle. He will base his nickname off your personality, rather then your gender.
As far as the other students? Well everyone tries to budy up with you just purely based on business. It's an opportunity to get you to do stuff for them. If you're at negotiation then you'd be sitting pretty on favors, thaumbucks, and stuff.
Now if you choose not take Azul up on his deal and you are forced to share a room, they will be respectful and not change in front of you but other then that? You are on your own unless they owe you. Need pads/ tampons? Sams shop isn't to far away and you have working legs. It can be kinda hard to make friends in this dorm, with everyone being so shady and always wanting something from you. There really isn't anyone to help if you get harrassed either (unless you befriend the twins, then big scary dog previlige), though if you complain to Azul enough he will step in. You have to be pretty independent to be in this dorm.
Scarabia
Kalim and you are besties. It doesn't matter if agreed to it, he just thinks you are so cool! He treats you like his little sister...so basically like all the other students. He is always inviting to parties and he will take you out on magic carpet rides! He may come off strong but he just wants you to feel comfortable. He does put a lot of stress on jamil though with this...well even more stress.
I feel like if you had to share a room with boys and said you weren't comfortable with that then he would build a whole new just for you! Oh come on, it's the least you he could do to make you comfortable.
Jamil takes a lot longer to be cozy with you. He treats you with respect but doesn't really interact with you more then he has to which he has to a lot thanks to Kalim. Unless you befriend him somehow, then he slowly becomes more protective over you.
Kalim tries his best but doesn't understand female problems. Jamil on the other hand is the one to call if you have really bad cramps that wont go away or need help getting pads/tampons. Just take it easy on him, he's already got a lot to deal with.
The rest of the dorm is pretty nice to you. Most of them try to be helpful where they can, and it's really easy to befriend guys your age. Not a lot of harassment happens here but when it does Jamil will handle it unless you take care of it yourself. Even if he doesn't like you that much, he still doesn't believe in acting that way to girls just cause his little sister.
if you refused to let Kalim build you a room then some of the boys would move in with each other to let you have a room to yourself.
Pomefoire
Vil is even harder on you then he is on other students. He doesn't want you to get away with stuff and not put your best in just because you are female. He will push and push to do your best. From skin care regimens and diets, to work outs and class's on etiquette (depends on what you need according to him.) you would be his secret favorite but he would never tell anyone. Best believe though you will have your own room, and bathroom. He'll get you to chat with him. Tell him who you like, who bothers you. I can just see him judging whoever you like so hard. especially if it was another Dormleader like " Really? Couldn't you do a little better?"
Rook is a little more flirty to you, but not to much that anyone notices. I think flirty is just his personality. Anyways he is a real gentleman, still does as Vil says but gently. He also seems to get a bit protective over you, often getting people when they make you uncomfortable, even if you can handle it yourself.
He thought you were just a girly guy like him at first. Once he finds out your a girl, Epel thinks he has to look out for you. But makes a bunch of off hand comments that make Vil smack him. He is one of those "you can't hit a girl" kind of dudes.
As for the rest Pomefiore, they don't even notice you are a girl. Even if you very curvy. They just think it's drag or something. If your Skinner they just think your a normal student. Unless you tell anyone you are a girl they won't know. If you do tell them they don't care. I can't really see anyone in the dorm messing with you. If not from pure "I don't care enough" then it's the fear of Vil and Rook.
Vil refuses to let you share a dorm room, even if you are fine with it. Unlike Riddle he won't try to go through Crowley. He'll just do it. If there aren't any other rooms then you can stay with him. He if that does happen, he will be very respectful but you won't be able to escape his nagging.
I can see Vil kind of catering to your needs. Like he keeps tampons and pads in the dorms bathroom and giving you ways to get blood out of your clothes. He wants you to feel comfortable.
Ignihyde
Idia, talking to someone? Let alone a girl? Yeah no. He maybe talked to you once or twice because Ortho made him. He stays as far away from you as possible.
Ortho and you are friends. He is just so adorable how could you not? Even if you are shy, it's fine cause he's not. Once you are friends he constantly trying to get his brother and you to interact, but that works as well as trying to introduce water and oil.
Don't worry about sharing a room either cause if you have to, your dorm mates are never there. They refuse to interact with anyone. Hell, I can imagine a student making a wall divider just so no one doesn't have to talk.
It's safe to say no one is gonna harass you. They would feel scared being around you. I guarantee you that they have never talked to a real girl, and they don't plan to. That does mean you are on your own, about everything. It can also be hard to make friends but not impossible. Just hard. But hey you have the best wifi in the whole school! I imagine if you are in this dorm you are probably more antisocial yourself so you are probably fine with no one talking to you. But if you aren't, probably look for friends outside of your dorm.
I'm sorry this one is shorter, there isn't a lot to say on this dorm.
Diasomnia
Malleus is more then welcoming. Though he will keep his distance if you are scared of him. If you aren't then you will quickly become friends with him. He doesn't really see you differently then other students, but he does understand you may find some challenges that other students won't and he tries his best to accommodate to that.
If you share a dorm room, and you aren't comfortable he will get you another room to yourself. Very easily to. If you are fine with it or don't say anything then he won't know to so speak up. Feel free to complain to him. I don't know why but I see him being a softer dorm leader.
Lilia has to adopted you, sorry. Sebek and Silver both betray you, and point to you whenever Lilia asks who wants to try his cooking....if you survived feel free to punch them.
Speaking of Sebek and Silver, Sebek dislikes you. Or at least at first. He thinks your far to close to Malleus, but also you should worship him? Can't have your cake and eat it to. But after awhile he accepts you but barely.
Silver likes you just fine. I can see really anyone getting along with him. The only thing really wrong about him is sleepyness but he can't help that. So you two will probably become friends no matter your personality.
As far as the rest of dorm goes (is there other students? But nah really) most people leave you be. Not really talking to you or paying attention to you. I don't really see anyone fucking with you here, but if they do lilia will see to it if you don't handle it yourself. If Malleus finds out though, boy do they get the hell out of NRC. Malleus doesn't believe in sexism. Really none of the Diasomnia boys do but Malleus and Lilia have the power to do something about it.
Lilia and Silver is a lot more understanding of Female problems then Malleus and Sebek. Silver is a very understanding kind of guy, and Lilia's old has experience. I imagine fae also have periods but they are different. So lilia might not understand entirely but knows the basics. Malleus is clueless though he tries to understand. He will ask questions on everything if you allow him to, if not Lilia will explain. He just wants to know, so he can help. Sebek though just refuses to learn or care. He doesn't see you any different from anyone else really. So he treats you like he does all the other first year's (your poor eardrums). None other then Malleus ( if you've befriended him) are that protective of you. With most viewing you can take care of yourself just fine.
If you do end up sharing a room though, I feel like it'd probably be with Sebek. Who doesn't care whether you are Female or not. He won't change in front of you or try to peep at you. He will leave your stuff alone to. But sharing a room with him comes with it's own challenges.
He will still keep up his shrine to Malleus. He will hog the bathroom half the morning. He will be very loud in the morning and at night. Great seven forbid you stay up past 9pm.
I don't really see you sharing a room with other dorm members but if you do, then they mostly leave you alone. They won't change in front of you but that's it. Not really much to say there.
Bonus
If you leave Bras around your room in ignihyde, One of the boys will faint.
If you're in Pomefiore, you will be one Crewels favorite students.
In Heartslabyul, if you leave a little pad station in the bathroom, some of the first year boys will start using them as badaides.
The Savanaclaw boys use Hair ties and Srunchies as a weapon so if you have long hair, good luck.
If you are in Diasomonia, and rooming with Sebek. If you leave blood on the toilet seat, he will freak out asking in a very tsundere way if you are okay, once it's explained...Lilia will not let him live it down like ever.
If you are in Octavinille, don't ever leave a bra or undergarment in the open. Floyd will use it as a sling shot. (ace would to)
In Scarabia, Kalim forgets you are girl sometimes. Like" hey you want to go swimming with me? I had a pool put in yesterday! Everyone was getting way to hot!" "sorry I can't im on my period" "What?". Jamil faceplamed, cause Kalim knows what a period is, he just forgot you get them.
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valalice · 9 days ago
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hear me out… combat training with rival!caitlyn where she gets all mad n frowny when you shit talk her so she pins you down on the mat. i’ve been thinking about this for WEEKS.
this is what i'm talking about !
you should've known better really, shit talking caitlyn kiramman of all people. but she makes it hard to somewhat tolerate her to a certain degree when she parades around like she owns the fucking place, her lean figure pin straight (perfect posture of course, nothing less expected of a kiramman), head held high (cassandra made it a point to instill the objective into young caitlyn's mind that you never let people persevere you as weak), and a cocky smirk that for some reason stays glued to her face at all times. she had every reason to be cocky—full of her self when she's the best at everything, everyone is either intimidated by her or adores her, and no there is no in between. you feel neither towards her, having the same prideful air about you, and there's no way in hell you'd ever adore her, you hate her, but again, hate does no lie between intimidated and adoration, it's the rotten third, born from pure animosity you have for her. it's something sacred really what you and her have, something so foolish, childish about your rivalry, but still serious in its own way.
you should've known your words would've been whispered right back into the ear of the heiress, too deep in the pits of blinded hatred to realize that kiramman has ears everywhere. and you know she knows when the next time the two of you cross paths her stare is more daggered than usual, and if your words hadn't sent the blue haired beauty into a frenzy, the laugh in her face upon seeing her had lit the spark, setting her ablaze.
you should've know caitlyn would come marching up to you like the prissy person she is and demand a combat match immediately, rolling your eyes at her temper and the shrill in her accent, she annoys you immensely by thinking she can get anything at her beck and call.
"can't you see i'm eating, kiramman?"
"i do. and i don't care. you talk shit, you're going to back it up."
"you're really looking to get another ass beating already?"
your words stung like a fist full of salt in a wound. the last match you two had, you won by a sliver, a tiny one, but you took the victory nonetheless. and it sends a tingly sensation down your spine, to the tips of your fingers, and then your toes to see the ever so barely noticeable twitch in her eye. but, of course you notice, you love seeing how you're able to get under her skin.
you should've known better than to accept that damn match, because now caitlyn has you pinned on the mat, struggling to think quick and reach for her weak spots to get you out of this position. you hate it, you hate her. but more importantly you hate how quickly she was able to pin you down, the swiftness and pure skill and talent (you'd never mutter these words out loud, even with a gun to your head) it took for her to pull off that move. it's all that damn excessive training with ambessa, you'd wander pass this very room time and time again heading the hits and grunts, caitlyn always overworked herself to the bone until she was able to get something right, and do it better. and you hate that when you opened your eyes from being slammed against the barely soft surface you were met up and close with gleaming cerulean eyes and that fucking smirk; it was in the moment you realized how close the two of you were, you always get this close but you're always too caught up with your motive of defeating her that you never took into account the compromising positions you'd put each other in.
"am i supposed to be getting my ass beat right now?"
should've spit in her face, but instead you're too stunned, focused on the knee slotted between your legs, pressing up against your pulsing heat. too focused on the wispy blue hairs fallen from her bun and how the usual sweat trickling down her eyebrow isn't there; she didn't even break a sweat. it takes a lot of restraint in you to not squirm beneath her, you won't give the satisfaction of seeing that (no matter how badly you want to sooth ache she's caused), you'll figure away out of this, eyes darting around to find anything's she any opening to free yourself or flip over, but you're too slow;
one.
two.
three.
the grip on you lessens when she's done counting, un-slotting her knee, and standing to her feet, gaze raking over your unmoved body, eyes swirling with gloat.
"i won."
and with that she walks out the room, no outstretched of a hand to help you off the matt, leaving you to lie there. she plays dirty.
you hate caitlyn kiramman.
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pubbamoon · 7 months ago
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The Matrix of Destiny
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Hi sweeties! Hope you're doing okay. This time, I'm gonna get into a completely another topic I used to do. I want to make a post about the Matrix of Destiny and how to read this chart. It's a little bit similar as an astrological natal chart, but there's also a huge differences there. We're gonna get into that in this post. I'm gonna use my own Matrix of Destiny chart as an example.
The Matrix of Destiny is a method or a tool in esoteric practices where we can analyze and understand someone's individual life, personality, destiny, love life, career path, karma, talents etc. It isn't based on astrology, it's rather based on numerology and tarot cards from Major Arcana. There's 22 tarot cards overall in Major Arcana and they go in this order:
1 - The Magician
2 - The High Priestess
3 - The Empress
4 - The Emperor
5 - The Hierophant
6 - The Lovers
7 - The Chariot
8 - Justice
9 - The Hermit
10 - Wheel of Fortune
11 - Strength
12 - The Hanged Man
13 - Death
14 - Temperance
15 - The Devil
16 - The Tower
17 - The Star
18 - The Moon
19 - The Sun
20 - Judgement
21 - The World
22 - The Fool
If someone was born on 23rd, 24th, 25th of month and on and on, then it's crucial to add the numbers into one digit, so we get numbers such as 5, 6, 7 etc., because the numbers don't go further than 22 in the context of the Matrix of Destiny.
Now, I'm going to explain what the certain position of the Matrix of Destiny chart means.
The Center: A number at the center of a Destiny Matrix chart represents our overall personality and it's our most important number/arcana. It's also related to our comfort zone as well.
The Left Side: This number represents our external world, our first impression, presence and how people perceive us. It can also mean how people see us when they meet us for the very first time.
The Right Side: The number at the right side represents our internal world, our private life, our relationships. This part of a chart can give insight how we interact with our closest people
The Bottom Side: This part of a chart can represent our karmic tale and our past life experiences. It tells us about the side of us that we need to release in this incarnation, otherwise we'll be punished.
The Upper Side: This number represents our inherent talents, abilities and something we're naturally good at. It's about our gifts that we should share in order to achieve success in any area of life.
The Heart Sign: The number close to this sign or emoji shows what we should seek for our partner. It represents the personality of our partner and our love life.
The Dollar Sign: This number tells us about out career path and our professional life. It shows us which career is the most suitable for us in general.
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While analyzing the Matrix of Destiny chart, it's essential to take a look on the state of our chakras. Each chakra has two numbers in it and one overall number and means several things.
Crown Chakra (Sahasrara): our spiritual connection and mission
Third Eye Chakra (Ajna): how we use our intuition and its state*
Throat Chakra (Vissudha): our communication and writing style
Heart Chakra (Anahata): our heart's desire, what we love to do
Solar Plexus Chakra (Manipura): our power and confidence style
Sacral Chakra (Svadhisthana): how we use our creativity
Root Chakra (Muladhara): our foundation, ancestors and stability
Summary: our life path and the balanced perspective of our life
*This text was supposed to be dark blue colored, but I couldn't put a dark blue color, so I put pink color as the alternative version.
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This is what you're going to see at the end of the Destiny Matrix chart. I'm gonna explain what does all it mean.
Male Generation Lines: gifts and karma from our father's side
Female Generation Lines: gifts and karma from our mother's side
Soul Searching: our life purpose at the earlier stage of our life (mine is 14)
Socialization: our life purpose at the later stage of our life (mine is 19)
Summary: our overall life purpose (mine is 33/6)
Anyway, that's all for today. If you have some questions about this topic, drop them on the comment section and I will answer that. This is just an intro of what the Matrix of Destiny is. Hope it's understandable. Overall, have a beautiful day ahead.
Best regards,
Paky McGee
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mclqren · 8 months ago
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WEST END GIRL ★ F1 GRID
PAIRING ✦ alex albon x fem!younger sister!reader ; f1 grid x fem!albon!reader [ implied logan sargeant x fem!reader ]
SUMMARY ✦ your brother and his cohort of friends from the f1 grid come to support you on the first night of your big break in the west end [ SMAU ]
WARNINGS ✦ cursing
REQUESTED ✦ here!
NOTES ✦ bit of a shorter one :) reader is younger than alex, but it's not specified how old she is. i felt it more fitting to make her perform in the uk, so i made her perform in the west end. reader plays eponine in 'les miserables'. the fc i've used is fah yongwaree, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are closed.
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liked by alex_albon, lilymhe, and 3,001 others
yourusername so...this is my life now?? my first night performing is in two days time, and it still doesnt feel real ❤️
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user1 AHHH LES MIS??
user2 wait who are you playing?? im going to watch!!
yourusername eponine!! hope you enjoy urself, its truly amazing! ❤️
user3 no way she's albon's sister...
user4 i knowww she's so glam
user5 how is alex ur brother
yourusername been asking myself that since birth 🤷‍♀️
alex_albon i was born first??
lilymhe my sister, so proud of you ❤️❤️
yourusername love you lils 💓
alex_albon we'll be there, trust!
yourusername who's we
alex_albon don't worry about it 😉
imessages ( alex )
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yourusername
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( caption one: getting ready for tonight 💓 | caption two: my first show done ✅ after dark ❤️ )
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liked by yourusername, lilymhe, and 355,412 others
tagged yourusername, lilymhe
alex_albon got to watch my sister in action today in the west end and wow, is she incredible. watch les miserables right now YOU WON'T REGRET IT 🫵🫵
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user6 SHE'S STUNNINGGG??
user7 RIGHTTT?
user8 omg i saw her she was so goodddd
user9 the albon siblings are talented beyond relief confirmed
user10 I NEED TO GO ASAPPPP
user11 NO SAME
user12 bad time to be living in america rn :(
yourusername it was so fun to see everyone tonight! ❤️
landonorris you were amazing y/n!!
charles_leclerc ^^
user13 DID WE MISS A CHAPTER
yourusername the flowers were gorgeousss who told logan my favs were tiger lilies 🥺
logansargeant just intuition 🤷‍♂️❤️ i'll have to get you them again next time!
alex_albon yeah yeah she's still my little sister back up sargeant
carmenmmundt y/n was truly breathtaking 💗
georgerussell63 agreed ^
yourusername MAMA Y PAPA love you guys💓💓
georgerussell63 we're not that much older than you?
yourusername boo dont care still my parents 👎
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liked by alex_albon, charles_leclerc, and 35,312 others
yourusername and you're singing the songs, thinking this is the life!
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user17 woweeeee that dress was made for youuuu
user18 IS THAT NOT THE PICTURE THAT ALEX POSTED OF YOU ON HIS INSTA
user19 i think it's from a diff angle though hahaha
yourusername ^ yup!!
user20 AMY MCDONALD THIS IS THE LIFE MENTIONED??
user21 the prettiest princess ever
alex_albon photography credits??
yourusername yeah yeah whatever thanks alex
alex_albon no problem!!!!!! 😁😁
logansargeant all those flowers and not a tiger lily in sight
yourusername still waiting for ur tiger lilies mr sargeant!
logansargeant come to miami and i'll give you some 🫡🫡
yourusername might just have to take you up on ur offer!!
alex_albon um guys can we not
yourusername wdym this is purely friendly?!
alex_albon keep the public flirting to a minimum PLEASE
oscarpiastri where are you finding cars with flowers in it
yourusername london babyyyy!
yourusername
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( caption one: 🌊🌊 | caption two: crazyyy 😱 )
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liked by alex_albon, logansargeant, and 44,931 others
tagged logansargeant
yourusername yeah i went to miami but i also got my nails done so what's new really
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user25 miss y/n continues to SERVEEEE
user26 she knows what's up!!
user27 tagging logan on the lilies awww :(
user28 okay but the caption is so real bc the nailsss?? CAN WE HAVE A MINUTE FOR THE NAILS PLEASE
user29 the way we've all decided to just stan alex's sister is everything to me
user30 she IS iconic
lilymhe the way you're wearing my necklace 🥺
yourusername of courseee you gave it to me!!
lilymhe ❤️
landonorris papaya flowers is that a sign or what
yourusername they're TIGER LILIES you idiot and just bc you won doesnt mean im switching sides
landonorris @/oscarpiastri wellll it was worth a try ☹️
logansargeant my flowers made a feature :)
yourusername of course they did i loveee them!
oscarpiastri boo make out already
alex_albon OSCAR I DON'T SUPPORT THAT
alex_albon the red nails im feeling betrayed rn 😔
yourusername switching sides @/scuderiaferrari @/charles_leclerc PLEASE give me a paddock pass thank you!!
scuderiaferrari your wish is our command 🫡
charles_leclerc y/n switching teams 🤣
landonorris oh so you'll switch to ferrari but not mclaren?? okayyy i see
yourusername yeah sorry about that lando 🤷‍♀️
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valkyriexo · 9 months ago
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You have an injury | Minho
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ᑉ³pairing; Minho x Dancer!Reader
ᑉ³genre; Sickfic, Comfort, Fluff, angst if you squint
ᑉ³warnings; Reader dealing with an injury, use of pet names
ᑉ³Authors Note; Edited ! Other members coming soon!
Part of the "He helps you when.." collection. Other members parts: Chan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin
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The dance studio hums with excitement, the air buzzing with anticipation. You're the lead dancer, and every step you take feels like a triumph, all thanks to your hard work and talent. The big show is just around the corner, and you're more than ready to steal the spotlight.
However, it's been days of pushing your body to the limit, every muscle and bone strained with relentless practice. Your body moves with fluid grace, each step executed with precision and poise. You can feel the eyes of your peers on you, their admiration evident in the way they watch your every move.
As the music reaches its crescendo, you prepare for a particularly challenging sequence. The anticipation hangs heavy in the air as the music begins to swell, filling the studio with its rhythm. With a deep breath, you launch yourself into the air, the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you execute each move with perfection. It's as if you were born to dance, your body effortlessly translating the music into motion.
But then, in the midst of a particularly demanding jump, it happens.
You land incorrectly, and a searing pain shoots through your ankle.
You feel your body waver, your balance faltering as you struggle to absorb the shock. With a gasp, you collapse to the ground, the impact reverberating through your bones. Tears well in your eyes as the pain radiates from your ankle, pulsing with each beat of your heart. It's a sensation unlike any you've ever experienced. You try to push through the pain, to rise to your feet and continue dancing as if nothing happened. But your body refuses to obey, the agony too overwhelming to ignore. You find yourself trembling, not from exertion, but from the sheer intensity of the pain coursing through your veins.
Your fellow dancers rush to your side, their voices a blur of concern and confusion. They gather around you, their faces etched with worry as they try to assess the situation. But you barely register their presence, your focus consumed by the agony radiating from your ankle.
Tears stream down your cheeks unchecked as you struggle to come to terms with what just happened. The show is just two days away, and you were supposed to be the lead. But now, all of that hangs in the balance, overshadowed by the uncertainty of your injury.
At that moment of vulnerability, you feel a surge of emotions welling up inside you: frustration, fear, anger.
In the midst of your swirling emotions, a gentle hand touches your shoulder, pulling you out from your thoughts. It's one of your fellow dancers, her eyes brimming with compassion.
"Hey, Y/n," she says softly, her voice cutting through the chaos. "Are you hurt? How bad is it? Can you walk?"
With a shaky nod, you try to stand, but the pain shooting through your ankle makes it impossible. You wince, unable to hide the agony etched on your face.
"Hmm... We need to get you to the emergency room," she decides, her voice laced with concern. With her help, you manage to limp out of the studio and into the cool night air, leaning heavily on her for support.
The journey to the hospital is a blur of pain and uncertainty, but your fellow dancer stays by your side the entire time, her presence a comforting one. The harsh fluorescent lights and sterile surroundings offer a stark contrast to the chaos of the dance studio.
As you're wheeled into the emergency room, the sense of urgency is palpable. Nurses and doctors bustle around, their voices a constant murmur as they tend to patients in various states of distress. You're placed on a bed, the crisp white sheets feeling soft against your skin.
Your fellow dancer stays by your side. She holds your hand tightly, offering silent support as you wait for the medical team to assess your injury.
Minutes stretch into what feels like hours as you lie there, the pain in your ankle a relentless reminder of the ordeal you're facing. Your mind races with worry and fear, each passing second only adding to the weight of uncertainty pressing down on your shoulders.
Then, amidst the chaos of the emergency room, you hear a familiar voice calling your name. You turn to see Minho striding towards you, his expression a mix of concern and frustration.
Minho's footsteps echo in the sterile corridors of the emergency room as he approaches your bedside, his presence commanding attention despite the chaos around you. His eyes, usually warm and inviting, now hold a mixture of concern and hurt, their intensity piercing through the haze of pain that clouds your mind.
Confusion mingles with the pain as you meet his gaze. You never mentioned a word to him about your injury, not wanting to burden him with your troubles. How could he have found out?
Silently, he gestures to the fellow dancer who had accompanied you, a subtle signal that speaks volumes. With a gentle nod, the dancer understands and quietly slips away, leaving you alone with Minho and the weight of his unspoken emotions.
"Why didn't you tell me?" His voice is a whisper, but it reverberates in the silent space between you, heavy with unspoken emotions. "I've been worried sick about you."
Your throat constricts with guilt as you meet his gaze, tears welling up in your eyes. "I'm sorry, Minho," you whisper, your voice trembling with remorse. "I didn't mean to worry you."
Minho's jaw tightened, the muscles visibly tensing as frustration simmered beneath the surface. His brows furrowed, and his eyes fixed on you as he struggled to articulate his emotions. "Y/n," he continued, his voice tinged with a hint of hurt, "you didn't talk to me all day. I'm left here wondering if I've done something wrong, if you're upset with me." He let out a heavy sigh, his voice slightly trembling. "I went to bring you food, hoping to see you, only to find chaos in the studio and you nowhere to be found. I had to find out from someone else that you were hurt." His words hung in the air, punctuated by a sense of disappointment and worry. "What's the use of having a phone if you don't even bother to use it?"
You flinch at his words, the weight of his disappointment pressing down on you like a weighted blanket.
"Do you understand how scary it is to find out the person you love is hurt and you knew nothing about it? And they don't answer?" There was a rawness in his voice, a vulnerability that he rarely showed, laid bare in that moment.
"I'm sorry," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the hum of activity in the emergency room. "I was so caught up in practicing for the dance, I didn't even realize..."
Minho's frustration only seems to intensify at your explanation. "Y/n, your health should come first," he says firmly. "You can't keep pushing yourself like this. What if this injury had been worse? What if you had collapsed somewhere with no one around to help?"
His words strike a chord deep within you, and you realize the reality of your actions. Guilt washes over you in waves as you realize the recklessness of your behavior.
"I know, Min," you say, your voice trembling. "I should have been more careful. I know."
Minho's gaze softens slightly at your admission, but the frustration still lingers in his eyes. "Y/n," he said gently, his words carrying the weight of concern, "I need to know that you'll take care of yourself." His hand reached out tentatively, as if to offer comfort, but then recoiled, a gesture mirroring the hesitance in his voice. "You never ask for help, even when you're hurt," he continued. "Remember last time, when you injured your ribs and I didn't find out until I went to hug you?"
You swallow hard, the memory of that moment flooding back with painful clarity. "I remember," you whisper. "But Minho, it's not like I never take care of myself," you explain, a hint of defensiveness creeping into your voice.
"You've been pushing yourself harder than usual," Minho interjects. "You know that's going to take a toll on your body. You can't do that, Y/N!" His tone is firm
You flinch involuntarily, his words hitting you like a slap in the face. The sting of his words cuts through the air, leaving a palpable tension between you. For a moment, you're at a loss for words, the weight of his concern bearing down on you.
"I can't bear the thought of you getting hurt because you were too stubborn to ask for help," he says, his voice carrying worry and frustration.
Tears blur your vision as you lift your gaze to meet Minho's, your heart heavy with guilt and uncertainty. "Minho, I... I'm sorry," you stammer, your voice wavering with emotion. "I never meant to worry you. I just... I didn't want to burden you with my problems."
Your apology hangs in the air, the tension between you obvious.
Minho's expression softens at your words, his anger melting away as he reaches out to gently wipe away your tears. "Y/n, you could never be a burden to me," he murmurs. "We're in this together, remember? Whatever you're going through, I want to be there for you. Please, don't ever shut me out like this again."
The door to the room opens, and a doctor steps in, breaking the momentary peace. "I'm sorry to interrupt," the doctor says, his tone gentle yet matter-of-fact. "But I have the results of your examination."
You turn your attention to the doctor, a mixture of anxiety and anticipation bubbling within you. "What's the verdict?" you ask, your voice trembling slightly.
The doctor offers a sympathetic smile. "You've twisted your ankle," he explains, his words confirming your worst fears. "It's not too severe, but you'll need to be on crutches for the next two weeks to give it time to heal properly."
You let out a sigh of relief, grateful that the injury isn't more serious. The doctor continues, his tone becoming more serious. "I also recommend that you avoid putting weight on the injured ankle as much as possible. No driving until you're fully recovered, and be sure to keep it elevated when you're resting."
You nod, committing the doctor's instructions to memory.
With a gentle hand under your elbow, Minho helps you to your feet, supporting you as you steady yourself on your uninjured foot. "Take it slow," he advises, his voice a soothing presence in the midst of your discomfort.
You lean on him heavily as you navigate the corridors of the hospital, grateful for his strength and steadiness. Finally, you reach the exit, the cool night air a welcome relief after the sterile confines of the hospital. Minho guides you to his car, opening the door and helping you settle into the passenger seat with gentle care.
As you arrive home, Minho continues to be by your side, his protective instincts in full force. With gentle hands, he helps you out of the car and guides you inside, making sure you're steady every step of the way.
Once inside, Minho leads you to your bedroom, where he encourages you to sit down on the bed. "Stay right here, Y/n," he insists, his voice firm yet gentle. "I'll take care of everything."
You watch with a mixture of amusement and gratitude as Minho bustles around the room, fetching pillows to prop up your injured ankle and adjusting the blankets to make you comfortable. He returns with a tray of food, carefully balancing it in his hands as he sets it down on your lap.
"Dinner is served," Minho announces with a smile, his eyes warm with affection as he watches you eat. "Just relax and let me take care of you."
And just like that, Minho becomes your personal caretaker, attending to your every need with unwavering devotion. He brings you meals, helps you with your exercises, and even reads to you when you're feeling restless.
In the quiet moments between meals and exercises, you catch glimpses of a side of Minho that he rarely shows. His usual cool demeanor softens as he tends to your needs, his touch gentle and his voice filled with tenderness.
Despite his outwardly stoic nature, his actions speak volumes about the depth of his love for you. You see it in the way he carefully adjusts the pillows under your head, in the way he sits by your side, holding your hand as you rest.
You watch how he reaches for a tube of muscle cream from the bedside table, his movements deliberate and gentle. With practiced care, he unscrews the cap and squeezes a small amount onto his fingertips.
He begins to apply the cream to your injured ankle, his touch firm yet tender. He starts with slow, circular motions, his fingers working the cream into your skin with a gentle pressure. With each stroke, you can feel the tension in your muscles easing, the warmth of the cream soothing the ache in your ankle.
There's a vulnerability in his eyes that you've never seen before, a rawness that speaks of the pain he feels seeing you in discomfort. It's as if every ache in your body is mirrored in his heart. And though he may not always express his emotions in words, his actions speak louder than any declaration of love ever could.
"Minho," you say softly, reaching out to touch his hand. "You really don't have to do all this."
His gaze meets yours, a mixture of surprise and concern flickering in his eyes. "But Y/N," he begins, his voice filled with sincerity, "I want to take care of you. You mean everything to me kitten, and seeing you in pain..." he trails off. " I just want to make it better."
You smile softly, but beneath the surface, guilt gnaws at you persistently. "Baby," you continue, "I can't help but feel guilty for taking up so much of your time. You have shows to prepare for, comebacks to plan, dances to choreograph... and the kids need you."
Minho's eyes soften as he reaches out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from your face. "Y/N," he murmurs, his voice filled with sincerity, "you are my priority right now. Yes, I have other commitments, but none of them are as important as making sure you're okay."
You feel a lump form in your throat at his words. "But," you protest weakly, "you shouldn't have to sacrifice so much for me."
His gaze meets yours, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. "Y/N, you're not just 'me.' I can't bear to see you in pain, and I'll do everything in my power to make it better. I'll move mountains to take that pain away because you're more than just important to me; you're everything."
You feel Minho's arms enveloping you in a warm embrace, his touch a comforting anchor amidst the storm of emotions swirling within you. His lips press gently against your forehead, a tender gesture that sends shivers down your spine.
"I wish I could take all the pain away," he murmurs, his voice soft with longing. "I wish I could carry it instead of you."
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes at his words, overwhelmed by the depth of his love and compassion. "Minho," you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion, "Just having you here with me... it means everything."
In that moment, wrapped in his arms, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. Despite the pain and uncertainty, you know that with Minho by your side, you can weather any storm.
"I love you," you murmur, the words spilling from your lips like a prayer. "I love you more than words can say."
His hold tightens around you, his heartbeat echoing in sync with yours. "I love you too, kitten" he murmurs, his voice a gentle promise. "More than you'll ever know."
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ઇଓ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Taglist | Thank you for your support ♡ | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like ♡ | © 2024 Valkyriexo 
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trauma-report · 2 months ago
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TRAUMA-REPORT: a selective & independent portrayal of a russian special forces soldier named JAKOW CHERNYKH
❝ You have a talent, Jakow. One, not even your own teammates in your unit can possess. You don't ask questions, instead you're doing what's necessary and that makes you a good soldier. A highly skilled spetsnaz for the russian federation, for your motherland. If I blink I expect you to follow, if I say "kill" you will do so. You will serve your country at all costs, even if you'll lose your soul while doing it. ❞   ⸻ STANISLAV NAZAROV, GENERAL-MAYOR OF THE RUSSIAN GRU
( . . . ) born in kazakhstan Jakow (mostly called Jascha by his friends and comrades) moved back to his fathers motherland russia when he was about 8 years old. Due to recent events that happened in his hometown Atyrau he wanted to be a soldier since the day he left. But he learned soon enough that being a spetsnaz for the russian military secret service GRU [Главное разведывательное управление] doesn't necessarily mean to just protect the ones you love, but also to become a monster every enemy fears. While being in the field he's got the will to kill without any hestitation, but back in civil life he tries to calm down his inner monster with partying and a lot of alcohol, so he's able to sleep at night.
⠀      ⠀     ❝carrd.     ❝ pinterest.    ❝writing.     ❝promo trailer
affiliated to: @ertraeumte in de profundis
info: selective, independent; 21+, activity varies; multiship friendly; currently open for plotting + I do not under any circumstances sympathize with current political events and actions of the real-world-russia. This is a roleplay character which disputes critically russian military/military structures in general and its consequences.
edits by @sonnenreich (you little piece of f****ing talent)
carrd template by @giantstrength
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alastor-simp · 1 year ago
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Special Guest🎙🎵 - Alastor x Singer Reader
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Whoosh!~ A cool breeze was blowing, giving you goosebumps. Your body was sitting on the railing of your bedroom porch. Just one more inch and you would tumble down. You were gazing at the sky, admiring the crimson red and the black stared orb. Peaceful moments like this were relaxing to you, despite the mast amount of pollution in the air. Heaving a sigh, you continued to gaze at the stars, humming out a song. That humming eventually turned into lyric, and you sang them outloud to yourself:
🎵If you weren't born with it You can buy a couple ornaments Just be sure to read the warning, kids 'Cause pretty soon you'll be bored of it Sexual, hey girl if you wanna feel sexual You can always call up a professional They stick pins in you like a vegetable
Kids forever, kids forever Baby soft skin turns into leather Don't be dramatic it's only some plastic No one will love you if you're unattractive
Oh Mrs. Potato Head tell me Is it true that pain is beauty? Does a new face come with a warranty? Will a pretty face make it better? Oh Mr. Potato Head tell me How did you afford her surgery? Do you swear you'll stay forever Even if her face don't stay together Even if her face don't stay together...🎵
(Song/Lyrics Credit - "Mrs Potato Head" - Melanie Martinez)
As you continued to belt out the lyrics, an ominous shadow appeared behind you, watching you. Soon your song drew to an end. A sound of clapping hands appeared from behind you, making you yelp it fright. Turning your head back, you realized it was Alastor. He was smiling widely like a kid in a candy store. "Bravo, my dear!! What an amazing voice you have!" His feet carried him over to you, standing very close to the railing where you sat. Blushing, you casted your head down: "I'm not that good Al." Hands were placed on your face, pulling it back towards Al. "Don't be harsh on yourself, my dear! That was the best performance I have ever listened to! Why have you been hiding this secret from me?" Alastors hands continued to pinch your cheeks, his crimson eyes gazing at you with excitement. Pushing him back a bit, to leave your cheeks alone, you turned back towards the view. "I always had a fondness for music growing up. It was quite a shock to me when I realized that I could sing. I honestly suspected to sound like nails on a chalkboard when I first tried it out." Chuckling to yourself, you looked back at Al, who was laughing along with you at your explanation. "I imagined later on in my life I would make a career out of it, but I just never got around to doing it."
Alastor continued to gaze at your melancholic expression. He admired how passionate you were about singing. He himself adore music and he could sing as well. It pained him a bit that you never got to pursue your dreams. Leaning his body down, crossing his arms on the railing, he gazed at you, eyes flashing crimson. "Well I must say my dear, I'm already an instant fan! I wouldn't mind you showing off your talent during one of my broadcasts!" Almost falling off the railing in shock, you caught yourself. HE WANTED YOU TO SING DURING HIS RADIO BROADCASTS!!! "Y-you joking right?" Waiting for him to admit that he was joking. He laughed outloud. "Yes Indeedy! The wayward souls in hell would enjoy it very much, including myself!" His words were sincere, no distrust was spewing from his mouth. Twirling your hair with your finger, you looked down. "O-okay, if its alright with you." Alastor jumped back into his normal height, and wrapped his arm around your back, giving you a brief hug. "Excellent my dear! My broadcast starts at 11:00 AM, on the dot! Try to give some thought on what song you wish to perform. See you tomorrow, darling!" He was practically beaming, when he was talking to you. He soon disappeared, melding into a shadow.
It took you a bit to figure out what just happened. Alastor really wanted you to sing at his radio tower. You knew how much he valued his radio broadcasts, so you knew you needed to prepare yourself. Last thing you wanted was ruining the broadcast and upsetting Al. After that interaction with Al, you searched for what song you wanted to sing. Memorizing the lyrics and singing some parts out, making sure your vocal cords could handle it. You went to bed that night, nervous and excited for tomorrow.
**Tomorrow Morning, at 10:50 AM**
Sitting on a chair, you gazed around, taking in every little detail. Both you and Al were inside his radio tower, attached to the hotel. It was a cozy little studio. There was a giant window, looking down at the city. There was a desk and chair adorned with dear horns. A large stag head was mounted on the wall. On top of the large desk, was a set of microphones and buttons. Alastor was pressing a bunch of buttons, making sure everything was set for today's show. It still felt like a dream that you were in this situation right now. Maybe Alastor is a bit of a softie behind that evil radio demon status he holds. Settling down in his chair, he set his microphone cane in front of him, and adjusting yours at the same time. "Its showtime!" he says, smiling like the joker.
"Salutations! Ladies and Gentleman. What a good day to be on the air!" he started his introduction, causing you to smile. "Today's broadcast is a very special one indeed! Today I have a very talented sinner performing for all you people listening in! Allow me to introduce, Y/N!" His hand extended to you, like he was in a play. An applause soundtrack played as well. "U-um Hello everyone!" you stuttered in your speech, mentally cursing yourself for doing so. "HAHAHA! They are a little shy, but don't be fooled. They have a voice so incredible it will knock your socks off! Ready, my dear?" His eyes glanced over to you, making sure you were ok to start. Nodding yes, you took a deep breath, attempting to calm your nerves. Then you started to sing.
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(Credit to Annapantsu. Check out her covers. Shes amazing!!!)
🎵Birds flying high You know how I feel Sun in the sky You know how I feel Breeze driftin' on by You know how I feel
It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life For me And I'm feeling good I'm feeling good
Fish in the sea You know how I feel River running free You know how I feel Blossom on a tree You know how I feel
It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life For me And I'm feeling good
Dragonfly out in the sun, you know what I mean, don't you know Butterflies all havin' fun, you know what I mean Sleep in peace when day is done, that's what I mean And this old world is a new world And a bold world For me For me
Stars when you shine You know how I feel Scent of the pine You know how I feel Oh, freedom is mine And I know how I feel
It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life
It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life It's a new life For me
And I'm feeling good I'm feeling good I feel so good I feel so good🎵
During your whole performance, Alastor was staring at you in shock. Your voice was heavenly!!! Not only did you sound spectacular, but you were singing his favorite genre of music, JAZZ!! Oh how delightful!!! Catching him staring at you, you gave a small wink. Radio screech! His heart starting beating out of his chest at your little action. Getting back into singing, you failed to notice the slight pink in his cheeks after you did that. Soon your performance came to end. "I hope you all enjoyed it." You said into the mic. Looking back at Alastor, you noticed he look slightly off. He was staring at you like a deer in headlights literally. Waving your hand in his face managed to alert him. "Heavens! What an amazing performance that was! Encore! Encore!" His radio staff began to play another applause, causing you to blush. "We will be right back! In the meantime, please enjoy this incredible song, Lets Misbehave by Irving Aaronson!" Alastor pressed a button, letting the song play, and also pressed another to mute his and your mic.
He didn't say a word after he did that. Oh no, did you mess up? He didn't appear upset when you were singing. Your thoughts were interrupted when a set of strong hands grabbed you. It took you a moment to realize that Alastor had brought you into a hug, a tight one at that. "Astonishing performance my dear! You did such an amazing job!!" His arms continued to squeeze you, rocking you back in forth in excitement. Giggling at his actions you returned his hug. The hug lasted longer then you suspected, especially knowing Alastors physical contact condition. "Um Al? You can let go now." Jumping at that, Alastor released you. "Y-yes my dear! Apologies! I had gotten overexcited!" You told him it was fine. Straightening his suit and fixing his hair, he looked back at you again. "Given that adorable smile on your face, I take it you are very satisfied as well!"
Smiling you nodded: "I admit I was very nervous in the beginning, but those feelings went away the minute I started singing. Thank you Alastor!" His eyes were tender, looking back at you. One of his hands grabbed yours, giving it a squeeze. "I'm glad my dear! Would you be opposed to becoming a part of my business? I would very much like to have you as partner during my shows! I can also put in a good word for Mimzy to have you perform at her club! What do you think?" His enthusiasm was exploding like fireworks, it was honestly adorable how giddy he was. Not even wasting a second to think, you squeezed his hand back. "Seems like we got a deal, Alastor!"
~END~
Tagging:
@pepperycookie , @yourdoorisunlocked, @ghostdoodlen , @aceofcards0-0 , @jyoongim , @saturnhas82moons , @unholycheesesnack, @luujjvi, @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @veethewriter , @rains-sleeping , @danveration , @demoarah , @cookiekyo , @iiotic , @delectableworm , @91062854-ka , @alastorsgoldie
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tulipatheticee · 7 months ago
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i've been waiting for you
violet bridgerton x youngest! daughter
bridgerton siblings x younger! sibling
synopsis; From the moment Edmund Bridgerton passed, leaving his wife widowed with eight children and one on the way, Violet found herself adrift until the arrival of Isadora, her youngest daughter. Isadora, quiet and calm, becomes Violet's constant companion in bustling Mayfair, offering solace and steadfast support at her mother's side.
word count; 1.3k
master list
a/n; i have arisen yet again, this is my first bridgerton fic so hello to the brigderton tag! i have archived all my old stuff because they are old and tbh the fandoms have died SO LET ME INTRODUCE MYSELF
my name is tulippa and im from sicily, im pretty confident in my english now but let me know if you see any errors! i mainly write fluffy family stuff like this, i love it idk. if you like this and want to see more like it let me know and ill provide for you! but its not like i wont write x reader romance cmon of course i will, but im best at parentxchild and siblings (PLATONIC ALWAYS DONT BE WEIRD) anyways i could go on and on but i wont, enjoy!!!
kinda proof read, kinda not, you've been warned
I'll carry you all the way
Violet Bridgerton had weathered many storms in her life, but none so devastating as the loss of her beloved husband, Edmund. His passing left her shattered, a widow with eight children to care for and another on the way. The pregnancy was fraught with complications, exacerbated by Violet's grief and the toll it took on her health.
Days turned into months as Violet withdrew into herself, mourning Edmund's absence even as life continued around her. Her family rallied, but Violet's sorrow was a heavy veil that separated her from them. It was during those long, solitary hours that she felt the weight of loneliness and the fear of losing both husband and child.
And you'll choose the day
The labour came unexpectedly, fierce and unforgiving. Violet's strength waned, her heart weary from loss and longing. The doctors and midwives worked tirelessly, their faces etched with concern. Hours passed like eternity until finally, a cry pierced the air—a fragile, yet determined cry that signalled new life.
Isadora was born amidst tears and relief, a tiny bundle of hope wrapped in Violet's trembling arms. The room, once fraught with fear, now glowed with a soft, golden light as mother and daughter gazed at each other for the first time. In that moment, everything seemed to still, and Violet knew she had been granted a miracle.
When you're prepared to greet me
She named her daughter Isadora, after the delicate Dahlia flower that Edmund had loved tending in their garden—a reminder of the beauty that bloomed even in the darkest of times.
As Isadora grew, she became Violet's constant companion, a beacon of joy and innocence in the Bridgerton household. Her older siblings doted on her, especially Anthony, Benedict, and Colin, who saw in her a reflection of their lost father's spirit. Isadora's laughter filled the halls of Bridgerton House and her curious mind sought solace in the quiet moments spent with her mother.
One afternoon, in the hushed serenity of the drawing room, Isadora sat at the pianoforte while Violet embroidered nearby. The soft melodies Isadora coaxed from the keys wove through the air, a testament to her growing talent and Violet's nurturing guidance.
"Does this sound right, Mama?" Isadora asked, her voice a melody in itself.
Violet looked up from her embroidery, a fond smile gracing her lips. "It sounds perfect, darling. You have a gift."
Isadora beamed with pride, her small hands continuing their dance over the keys. Despite her tender age, she played with a grace that belied her years, a testament to the bond she shared with her mother and the legacy of love that surrounded her.
I'll be a good mum, I swear
Anthony, Benedict, and Colin entered the room together, their voices low with shared memories and unspoken affection for their youngest sister. Anthony, ever the protective eldest brother, approached Isadora and knelt beside her.
"How are you today, Isa?" he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.
"I am well, Anthony," Isadora replied, her gaze never leaving the keys. "Mama teaches me a new piece every day."
"Is that so?" Benedict chimed in, leaning over to peer at the sheet music. "You are quite talented, little one."
"Indeed," Colin added with a smile. "Father would have been proud."
Violet's heart swelled with bittersweet emotion at the mention of Edmund. She had feared she might forget the sound of his voice or the warmth of his touch, but in Isadora, she found echoes of him that kept his memory alive.
You'll see how much I care
"Mama, are you well?" Isadora asked suddenly, sensing the shift in her mother's mood.
Violet blinked back tears, her hand reaching out to clasp Isadora's. "I am well, my love. I am with you, and that is enough."
Isadora nodded solemnly, her understanding far beyond her years. Together, they continued their afternoon ritual, finding solace in music and shared moments that bridged the gap between past sorrows and future joys.
When you meet me
------------
In the sunlit gardens of Bridgerton House, where the scent of roses mingled with the laughter of children, Isadora found herself in the company of her older sister, Hyacinth, and brother, Gregory. Despite their lively spirits, they adapted to Isadora's quieter demeanour, creating a harmony that transcended their differences.
You thrill me, you delight me
"Isa, look what I found!" Hyacinth exclaimed, holding a caterpillar in her small hands with excitement.
Isadora approached cautiously, her eyes widening with curiosity. "Oh, wow! What is it?"
Gregory, always eager to share his knowledge, chimed in, "It's a caterpillar, Isa! Hyacinth and I were just talking about how it turns into a butterfly."
Hyacinth nodded eagerly. "Yes, Isa! It's like magic! One day, it will have beautiful wings and fly everywhere!"
Isadora's face lit up with wonder. "That's amazing! Can I hold it?"
Hyacinth carefully passed the caterpillar to Isadora, who watched it crawl across her palm with fascination. Gregory leaned in, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. "Let's play tag, Isa! You're it!"
You please me, you excite me
Isadora giggled as Gregory darted away, Hyacinth joining in the chase. "Catch us if you can, Isa!"
Isadora laughed, her heart light as she chased after her siblings through the garden paths, their laughter mingling with the rustle of leaves and the gentle hum of bees. Despite their differences in temperament, they found joy in each other's company, weaving memories that would last a lifetime.
You're all that
I've been yearning for
— —- —- —- —-
In the quiet of evening, as the Bridgerton family gathered for supper, Isadora remained close to Violet's side. Gregory and Hyacinth, full of youthful exuberance, regaled their siblings with tales of mischief and adventure, and how Isadora won tag earlier in the afternoon. The three eldest Brigderton men shared the lovely pianoforte they witnessed Isadora performing in the morning and spoke of how she is progressing very, while Eloise, Francesca, and Daphne shared knowing glances over the table.
I love you, I adore you
"Isa, do you have to be better than us at everything?" Eloise teased playfully, nudging Isadora with her elbow.
Isadora looked up, a hint of confusing in her eyes, she went to speak before Violet interjected “ "Eloise is just being foolish, darling, she means well”
Isadora quickly understood and replied "I only wish to be like everyone else Eloise, you are so clever, and Francesca is so graceful, and Daphne—"
"—is the epitome of charm," Francesca finished with a smile, her gaze softening as she looked at her youngest sister.
I lay my life before you
Daphne reached across the table to tousle Isadora's hair gently. "You are quite the storyteller yourself, Isa. Perhaps one day you'll write tales that surpass even Eloise's wild adventures."
Isadora's face lit up with delight at the praise from her sisters. "Do you really think so, Daphne?"
"Absolutely," Daphne assured her. "You have a way with words and a heart as big as all of Mayfair."
I only want you more and more
Violet watched the exchange with a tender smile, her heart swelling with pride at the bond between her daughters. Despite the challenges they had faced as a family, moments like these reminded her of the joy that filled their lives.
And finally it seems
My lonely days are through
Later that night, as Isadora drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the love of her siblings, Violet tucked her in with a sense of peace. The Bridgertons, each unique in their strengths and passions, formed a tapestry of love and support that would guide Isadora through the years ahead.
I've been waiting for you
"You are so loved, Isadora," Violet whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her daughter's forehead. "Never doubt that."
Isadora stirred, a contented smile playing on her lips. 
I've been waiting…
And as Violet watched over her sleeping daughter, she knew that the bonds of siblinghood, and the enduring love of family would carry Isadora through any storm that life might bring.
…For you
pt2
a/n pt2; thats it guys :( i actually had so much fun writing this and if you want anymore of violet and isa or any of the siblings with isa let me know because i'd love for this to become a little oneshot series typa thing! your feedback is greatly appreciated <3
all my love!
~tulippa
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bruciemilf · 2 years ago
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Galas were energy drainers, which was a well known, established fact.
Bruce isn't a solid believer that people are born bad; The person in front of him seems adamant to prove him wrong.
"Those are very big words you're throwing around, Mr. Wayne," Bruce is sorely concerned if 'climate change should be acknowledged and regulated' can be considered ' big words', "Care to define them?"
Bruce would, truly, but this jerk already wasted half of his night by being condescending, so why bother?
" I've enjoyed myself, but,--"
" I did too. Truly, its nice to be listened to. You could teach my wife a thing or two...Among other talents. Maybe we can speak more over dinner?"
Discomfort churns and batters Bruce's insides. He's not good with sleazy.
He thankfully learned to camouflage disgust at arrogance and tackiness and nastiness,-- but sleazy? His hands sweat, hungry to hit, punch. His tongue is heavy and bit to blood.
A long shadow covers them both, and everything bad vanishes from Bruce's body in a relieved breath.
" Oh...Thank you for the invitation. But...You'll have to ask my boys."
A gulp from the other.
There's Jason, his Goliath of a son, Bruce's bruised sunshine. On his shoulders, not clothed by a restricting tuxedo like the rest, but by a red hoodie instead, Damian holds a butter knife close.
Tim, arms folded, mimics Bruce's nauseated snarl. Ah. So they heard, then.
Dick, as always, stands at the forefront, both shielding his siblings, and establishing himself as top threat. A pure leader, no doubt behind it.Bruce would lie if he'd say the spark of pride isn't there.
"What time?"
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bookshelfdreams · 3 months ago
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What is your Hogwarts house?
yk, I always thought it was a shame that we (here on the Overanalyzing Dumb Pop Media website) consider HP a forbidden topic; or rather, have collectively decided that, because its author is an idiot transphobe, it is unworthy of discussion. There are so many things worthy of discussion about it, about what it believes in, what roles it assigns to people, why it ultimately fails in delivering its message.
Actually, the houses are a big part of that.
What is evil in the world of HP? Not what the text says outright, not the lip-service it pays to Fascism Bad! No, what is shown as evil? What marks an evil person, and in contrast, a good one? (Aside from superficial and again, obvious traits like cruelty or intolerance)
The defining trait of the "evil" house is ambition and cunning - and intelligence. Ravenclaw might not be "the villain", but the characters placed here, when they feature at all, are often morally ambiguous or downright antagonistic. The big bad villain comes from devastating poverty, just like the secondary villain.
What does HP believe in? Well, underlying seems to be the assumption that it is inherently suspicious to want to rise above one's station. It is fine for characters to explore and make use of their natural gifts, but it is wrong and a mark of evil to have ambitions beyond that. Wanting to be better is fueled by bitterness and jealousy; in HP, you either have innate talent, or you're a fraud and a villain.
This isn't something that's put in consciously, I am almost certain of that. Rather, it stems from a cultural background, where everyone ought to stay within their class. Where good fortune, wealth and talent is a mark of God's favour, and trying to achieve better status despite not being born into it, is hubris that ought to be punished.
Now, on the surface, HP obviously rejects this. Harry himself grows up a destitute, abused orphan! Doesn't he?
But he is lifted from his old life when he learns that he was always special. Fate has marked him favourably. He is innately talented in all the right ways, and he's heir to a fortune.
Contrasting that, there's Ron, whose family is actually poor, but who bear poverty gracefully. Who would, of course, never accept charity! And who's father could have had a better, more lucrative carreer, but never had because he enjoys working in his deadend position so much! (And then look at Ron's brothers: The twins find success and a fortune by exploring their innate talents, seemingly without too much care for financial gain. Percy, otoh, who actually has career ambitions, is painted as shallow and selfish for it.)
Even of the protagonists, the one who is the most hardworking - Hermione - is also the most ruthless, even cruel and dangerous at times. And she is allowed to work for success only because all her motivation is purely academic (and also rooted in poor self-esteem). She studies for a love of studying, and because she is terrified of failure. Not because she wants to be the best.
Being the best is something you simply are. Not something you work for.
On the surface level, HP is about defeating fascism. But the whole framework of HP, its underlying worldview, is far more compatible to that of fascism than antifascim. Voldemort kind of has a point! In HP, muggles are constantly portrayed as clueless and idiotic not-people who are needlessly cruel and intolerant towards wizards. Voldemort's offense isn't thinking wizards are inherently better - the narrative believes this too - it's that he's going to far. He's targeting other wizards and that's inacceptable.
Because in the world of HP, the traits and talents you're born with determine your worth as a person. They're the mark of goodness and achieving success beyond your "station", that's evil.
In the world of HP, not everyone is born free and equal. From birth, it is determined whether you're good or evil, and that's unchangeable (which is why there's so little character development in the entire book series). Redemption is impossible. At 11 years old, your character is declared in front of everyone, and this is unchangeable.
So, to answer your question: idk, man. I'm 35, I'm beyond that age when you want to categorize yourself into a neat little box. I don't think people can be easily divided into "brave heros", "loyal servants", "kinda suspicious nerds", and "evil masterminds", we're more complicated than that.
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tosahobi-if · 1 year ago
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GAME OUT NOW
Misfortune begets misfortune; evil will prey upon itself. Just as how the fox cannot live without the rabbit, the predator must understand what rises will fall.
Long before you were born, the Great Calamity, a calculated effort by Magyo cultists nearly wiped out the entirety of the Jungpa sects. If not for the noble sacrifice of the peerless Sword Saint of the Mount Hua Sect: the Divine Blade, Yeo Jinhu, demonic forces would have rent the heavens and the earth asunder.
Despite his triumph, nothing would ever be the same – the losses were staggering, the task of rebuilding the sects to their former glory seemed to prove an insurmountable challenge. Yet nearly two decades after his death, peace returned to the land once more.
After the death of your parents, you lead an ordinary, if not monotonous, life as the playmate of the spoiled young master of the Mount Hua Sect. However, all is not what it seems. Following the mysterious arrival of an amnesiac with strange abilities, whispers of a plot brewing in the shadows start to surface, and the world as you know it begins to fall apart around your feet.
Suddenly confronted with the uncertainty of the future, you must unravel the tragedy of what truly conspired all those years ago before you risk losing all you hold dear.
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tosahobi (18+) is a muhyeop choose-your-own adventure game centered around elements of korean folklore and taoism in a tale of family, grief, and heritage.
play as a customizable main character: choose their physical appearance, gender, pronouns, sexuality, and more.
explore different relationships: from platonic to romantic to familial, build a variety of relationships with the cast (and hopefully make more friends than you do enemies.)
choose from different skill sets: pick between medicine, weaponry, tactics, and hand-to-hand combat. each field comes with its own advantages and disadvantages that affect multiple scenarios as the story progresses.
choice-driven story: with several routes and (many) choices, fail or succeed and find your way to an ending (whether it be happy or not.)
something is incredibly wrong: can you feel it too?
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THE YOUNG MASTER
Yeo Jinwol of the Mount Hua Sect, is the youngest son of the sect leader. Contrary to his charming public demeanor, he has a childish side and can be extraordinarily stubborn. Having grown up in the shadow of his elder brothers he is fiercely protective of those he considers precious to him and struggles to measure up to the expectations placed on his shoulders. Assigned his playmate at a young age, whether you consider it fortuitous or not the two of you have been stuck together for years.
THE ENIGMA
Yul is your sajae, a disciple under the same master as you. Despite their amnesia, they're preternaturally talented at whatever they set their mind to. With strange yet unexplainable abilities that seem to stretch far beyond the scope of their powers, their missing memories may be the key to unlocking the answers you seek. Reclusive yet dedicated you'd almost think they were far, far older than their age if not for their intense sweet tooth and their tendency to follow you around like a very clingy second shadow.
THE PRODIGY
Baek Iseul, the Frozen Blade, is the rising star Emei Sect and has long been hailed as the next Sword Saint. Contrary to her cheerful personality you've never met anyone with a sharper gaze before. Hailing from obscurity, her power rivals even those who have trained for years and years, and has amassed an ever-growing collection of heroic feats under her belt. Popular and well-liked with a mischievous streak, you're really not sure why someone with such a promising future has taken a liking to you.
???
if to transcend means to leave the world behind, bind me to the soil so even long after my death, long after my body has turned to dust, i can find you once more.
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madl-y · 6 months ago
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✧. ┊— you're the one that I like (I can't deny)
3 times Orter Mádl denied his affection for someone, and the one time he was too tired to defend himself.
sypnosis – the other divine visionaries are sick of seeing orter lovesick (despite being amused themselves) so they try to push him to confess. (they, mainly being kaldo and ryoh. lance was there unwillingly)
> no tw! fluff! hopefully not ooc..? beware of grammar and spelling mistakes (sorry..)
> set in post innocent zero! so mild manga spoilers :"DD
> its also been a while since i've started writing fics again! this was kind of an impulse decision ahahaha...!
> i also didn't expect this to be long! sorry :"D
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
1 - 3 : EASTON ACADEMY
Orter Mádl never thought he'd see you again.
This is the third time in a row that he, alongside with another person, finished the assigned mission in each class that gives silver coins. Orter glances at the side, where another student slowly walks to the front as the teacher sang praises about them. Of course never forgetting the 'lectures' on how everyone should take inspiration from the two of them. (Frankly, it was getting quite sickening to hear.)
He kept his gaze at the front, while his awareness and attention is still directed at you. You, who always managed to keep up with him in tasks and classes. You, who despite having a weak personal magic, had always excelled at other spells. It was to the point where higher level year spells and advance magic was so easy for you.
You, who Orter thought that the first piece of the silver coin you got was a fluke.
Evidently enough, it wasn't.
Finally, after a lot of unnecessary speeches and praises, Orter and you are able to go back with the rest of the class. It seems most students were willing to run away the moment the teacher announced class was over.
Orter pushed his glasses and sighed. He finally felt the weight of his pocket from the gold coins he acquired recently.
Just from looking at you, Orter knew you felt the weight too.
Its nothing new. Clearly, Easton has a lot of students that were born talented. Easton in itself is a privilege. The best and the talented are here. Orter knew he'll have to face a lot of strong magic users just to carve his path towards becoming a Divine Visionary.
He must become one. Someone needs to maintain order. He needs to punish all those who dare and try go against society. He needs to fulfill his wish—
"Orter, aren't you going?" He blinked. Surprisingly, (or not really) Orter found himself still rooted on the grass. His previous place just a few steps behind him.
Ah, right. Someone called out to him.
That someone gazed up to him. Orter got used to people having to slightly tilt their head up from how tall he is. Though, he never noticed that your height reached his shoulders.
"Orter?" You called out again.
Orter shook his head, trying to keep his mind from wandering elsewhere.
Somehow, this always happens. Its always whenever the two of your interact with each other. Orter gets distracted and gods knows why!
"Sorry, I was just thinking."
It somewhat became a routine from how it always happens when Orter and you interact.
Its always you who's initiating. A simple greeting in the hallway. A simple show of respect to Orter's achievements. A simple saying of "congratulations" whenever Orter finishes first in class quizzes.
And it always follows up with an act of concern to when Orter spaces out.
Because somehow, he always ends up thinking of you. How did you keep up? What did you do? What magic spells were you able to wield so easily, yet you're own personal magic was so weak? Why were you talking to him? Did you want to become a Divine Visionary? Should he expect you as a future enemy? Why do your eyes always look like they're shining under the bright warm sun? Why—
"If you excuse me, I need to go." Orter bowed before walking away. He hasten his pace at the mere sound of your voice that stopped midway to ask something of him.
Why is it that its always you he exerts his effort to think about?
Its irrational. Its... nonsense.
Yet somehow, he couldn't help but think how prettier you are up close.
And its ridiculous to think about.
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
2 - 3 : BUREAU OF MAGIC
When Orter thought that you might be working alongside with him, he didn't mean with you as just an assistant.
"You really saved me time, thanks!"
"These notes are so well organized... I should learn from you."
"I'm starting to see why the Divine Visionaries respect you alot."
"Heh..? Not bad from an assistant."
"Be nice, Renatus."
"Shut up, you stuck up hag." Sophina Biblia glared at the foul word.
"You–!"
"Would you like some honey sashimi with me?"
"With all due respect, Kaldo." You blankly stared at the Flame Cane and his abomination of a... food choice. "You're tastes in food and honey combinations are the worst thing ever." Kaldo felt an arrow struck through him. The palm of your hand raised up in front of him indicated that you were rejecting his food taste (like everyone else) and flopped to the floor in pain.
The other two visionaries sighed.
"Orter, here is your schedule for today and tomorrow. One of the chiefs in the Police force would like to schedule a meeting with you. Nerey's still clarifying who's attending though." You handed a folder to Orter while ignoring the bickering behind the two of you.
Orter nodded. "I'll take note of that. Although," He took a quick glance at the cup of coffee on your other hand. "I thought you don't drink coffee anymore?"
"Oh, this is for you."
Orter blinked, before pushing up his glasses. "I don't recall ordering one."
"What? Don't tell me you suddenly dislike coffee?" You leaned in with a teasing grin. Any outsider would think that the Sand Cane looks unamused, but working with Orter for a long time means you've known every expression of his, no matter how stoic.
"I didn't say I dislike coffee." Orter sighed.
"Yeah? Then, here you go." You lightly shoved the cup of coffee towards Orter. It looks so casual, as if its something you've done for a long time.
And it is something you've done for a long time.
Orter accepts the coffee. Gingerly taking care of the cup in his hands. His fingers subtly touch against yours.
Its always the same, and yet Orter still feels that small budding affection in him. (Not that he would show it, of course.)
A coworker calls your name. You immediately follow him down the hallway while giving a quick smile to Orter. He nods briefly as he watches your back retreating further.
Actually, Orter already drank a cup of coffee a while ago. He usually doesn't order a second one. He dislikes the feeling him palpitating in the middle of work. It only happened twice, but he refuses to feel it again.
Still, every cup you give him unknowingly, he takes it.
He licks his lips as the warm liquid travels down his throat. Its sweet.
Its sweeter than he's used to. He prefers it with less sugar, and absolutely refuses to let Kaldo brew his cup of coffee.
He takes one more sip.
Orter doesn't mind as he walks back to his office with the cup of coffee and folder in hand.
The next day, you find a freshly brewed cup of tea on your desk.
You tilt your head questioningly. This is a first that's happened ever.
You look around to see if there were someone nearby. Most of them were walking past and chatting with one another.
It tasted good at least. (After confirming that it wasn't poisoned. You wouldn't know what to feel if there was someone who wants you dead.)
Weeks pass by, and there's been at least two times that it has happened. It happens at random times so you weren't sure what the pattern was.
But clearly, the Divine Visionaries know something. Every time you ask, however, they just smile or sigh while giving you a cryptic answer.
Orter just shrugs and walks away.
"Hey-! I wasn't done talking to you!"
"Well, I am." Is what he always replies.
Soon after, Ryoh slings his arms around Orter and gives him a grin. "So... you like her?"
Orter pauses in his steps, before blankly staring at the smug Light Cane. "Her?"
Kaldo emerged from the sides. "Oh? Never thought you were the type to play dumb." His smile grows at the bristled look Orter directed at him.
"I'm not playing dumb."
"Sure."
"Its just that, she's the one you only prepare tea just right before she arrives at work. You don't do that to anyone else." Orter stares at Ryoh, who just smiles knowingly. Nothing escapes the Light Cane afterall.
"My, my, who thought that I have a rival in finding ways to charm a girl? Me, the greatest creation–" Orter shrugs off the narcissist before he can start his self narration.
Kaldo walks beside Orter, "So, you truly like her?"
Orter sighed, pushing his glasses in habit. "I don't."
Kaldo hummed in thought, "I'm not convinced." The Flame Cane frowned. "You two seem to get along well. No plans of confessing?" He tries to push further for answers, which makes Orter irritated.
"If you're not convinced, that's not my problem." Gold eyes glared sharply. "Again, I don't like her. I'm just giving back favors. I don't know about you, but I don't think gossiping is how a visionary should spend their day."
With that, Orter walks away ignoring the stares from the two.
It's natural to repay favors. You don't need to know Orter was the one brewing the tea on your desk after every coffee you give him.
Kaldo and Ryoh stared before smiling at each other.
"He likes her." Ryoh grinned.
Kaldo nodded in agreement.
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
3 - 3 : EASTON ACADEMY
The bell rang indicating that class is finally over. Which also means that you have successfully made it through the whole day while teaching.... enthusiastic students. (The amount of headaches you've received from teaching students the most basic spells. Offense spells, especially.)
You greeted one last goodbye to the class before heading out towards the faculty.
While your main job is a secretary position in the Bureau, you were also recruited to teach at Easton for once a week. Mostly classes that are supplementary for those with borderline failing grades.
"Ah, who is more suitable than the student who excels in different spells regardless of difficulty? Am I right?" Walhberg's voice resonated in your mind.
It's been a year since you've started teaching. Right after the whole Innocent Zero world abomination happened. Can't say that you're surprised that Finn is one of your students, but he's currently doing better than you expected.
"I have to thank you for being patient with me, Sensei!" You recall Finn beaming with joy as he finally got one of the hardest offense spells to master. Safe to stay you were delighted that you had an impact to students.
Right after this class, you usually head straight towards the Bureau to take over the night shift-
A tap in your shoulder made you halt in the middle of the hallway, "Done with class?"
You come face to face with... huh.
"I didn't know you had a meeting here in Easton?" You should know, because you were in charge of handling the Visionaries' schedules. So you should know that Orter has no business here in Easton.
He shrugs, "I don't."
"Well, yeah, you don't. I should know that— I'm your goddamn secretary— but I'm assuming its an emergency?" You tilt your head in confusion. Gold eyes meet yours, his stare seemingly calculating and... hesitant?
"No." Orter replies.
Silence assumes between the two of you. You raised a questioning brow at Orter who just stares blankly at you.
"Then..? Care to elaborate oh divine one?" You add a hint of sarcasm which Orter slightly bristled at. He sends a sharper glance at you while you smile innocently.
Its not as if the two of you haven't acted that way before. Working together somehow brought the two of you closer and your relationship is somewhat casual.
Other words, you can be as annoying as you want and Orter won't shove sand down your throat.
"I don't know, you're the secretary." He raised a challenging brow back. You scoff in lighthearted annoyance while Orter seemed unfazed. That is, if it weren't for the ghost of a smile you managed to capture.
If you can be annoying as you want without consequence, then Orter will do the same.
"Okay but really, why are you here?" You question seriously while inviting Orter to walk beside you towards the faculty. He follows while keeping his gaze ahead.
"Hmm... You're headed towards the Bureau after this?"
"Oh? How did you know?" You ask with slight surprise. Nobody ever bothered to know your schedule, except for the ones that are quite obvious.
Orter sighed and sent you a dry look. "We've worked together for a long time."
A laugh escapes your throat, "Yeah, well, I've only started teaching a year ago. Until now, some forget I have to teach weekly then head towards the Bureau. I swear, its laughable at the same time such a headache. They keep on scheduling things when they shouldn't be." You sighed roughly, wondering if you should start scolding your coworkers more.
"They're idiots." Another laugh escapes your throat at Orter's words. "I'm guessing they're the same ones that accidentally added in my schedule that I'm supposed to be here at Easton." You see the way Orter's usual calm expression turns slightly irritated. Not evident that anyone from outside could see, but enough for someone like you who've known Orter since studying at Easton.
"Oh I see, that's how it is." You stifle another laugh, not wanting to irritate Orter further, but can't help the urge to tease him.
"You say its a headache when they do this, yet you're laughing? How annoying." Orter let out a huff while you grin.
"Maybe its laughable when I see others suffer." You teasingly smirk.
Orter rolled his eyes, yet he can't help but feel a minute affection at the casual interaction between you.
"You haven't answered my question, Orter."
Ah right. He hasn't.
Orter paused in his steps. Causing you two pause beside him too before facing him with a questioning smile.
Again, its the same. As if they're back studying at Easton where Orter always sees that smile of yours. Its always the same, so how come he always felt the same emotions where his stomach and chest swirl at the sight of it. At the sight of you.
He cleared his throat, "I did. I told you they sent me on accident. Messing up my schedule."
"That's true, but you could've gone back immediately." You turn your gaze towards the group of students on the field where they were practicing spells or playing around.
"You caused quite a commotion you know? It was hard to settle down my last class because apparently, a Divine Visionary is on Easton grounds." You cross your arms while a playful pout forms on your lips. "They were more focused on the fact that the Sand Cane was here. That was an hour ago, so care to explain?" You sigh in exhaustion. However, your pout was replaced by a smile the moment you see Orter's subtle shift in his eyes while he looked dejected at being caught. Again, only you could see those minute expressions behind his stoic attitude.
Orter pursed his lips, he didn't expect that his presence would be that of a commotion. To think he was confident in concealing his presence right before your class.
Huh, nothing really escapes you.
"That's.." Orter glanced away while pushing his glasses up. "Its not like it wouldn't hurt to—"
"Sensei."
"—visit you.."
Orter went silent before sending a glance to the person who had the guts to interrupt to people talking-!
His mouth opens in slight surprise at the look of one of the students he was mentoring.
Additionally, Lance looked equally as surprise to see Orter right behind you. He blinked, wondering if he interrupted something. He was pretty sure he heard another voice overlapping with his once he called for you.
"Sensei, Orter-san." Lance bows politely then turns back to you.
He sees in the corner of his eye how Orter pushed his glasses up (a tiny bit harsher) and looked away. Lance didn't have time to think about it as you call for his name.
"Yes, Lance?" You smile at the younger Divine Visionary.
"Ah, Finn wanted me to tell you that he can't go to the faculty after class to bring you his assignment. His other teacher told him to stay after class." Lance handed you a sheet of paper.
"He asked me to deliver it to you instead."
"Oh, thank you Lance! Its nice to see you taking care of Finn. Please tell him he did a great job and not to worry." You smile brightly as you felt another wave of pride for Finn. Sure he was called as the "weakest" in your supplementary class, but he's improving. A lot. Especially under your guidance.
One glance at Finn's paper, and you already knew he's going to have another high score soon enough.
"Also, Professor Claude told me to look for you. Apparently there's an emergency meeting with the faculty."
At the mention of Claude, you couldn't help but grimace. Lance didn't seem fazed at your expression, yet he also can't help sending a pitying glance at you.
Orter just raised his brow.
"And he couldn't tell me himself...?" You mumbled questioningly.
"He said he was busy." Lance replied dryly.
"Sure, he always says that." You muttered once again, not bothering to hide your disdain at your fellow professor.
You perked at the sound of someone clearing his throat. You turn to Orter apologetically. "Sorry, Orter. I forgot you were there."
While Orter didn't seem fazed on the outside, Lance could see the slight twitch on his forehead.
"I think Lance may have accidentally cut you off." You smiled sheepishly.
Lance thought so too.
"What was it you were going to say?"
Orter remained quiet for a moment before sighing. "Its nothing. I was about to head back to the Bureau."
While you nodded understandingly, Orter took the chance to sharply glare at Lance in displeasure. Maybe he should teach this kid a thing or two on how to not interrupt two adults when they're having a conversation.
Lance stared back unfazed.
"Well then, I have to go! Can you do me a favor and tell anyone who asks for me that I have an emergency meeting at the faculty?"
The Sand Cane let out a sigh, displeasure thinly veiled in his expression. Orter, however, nodded while his stoic look returns. "Sure."
"Thank you!" You bowed and smiled gratefully before quickly walking away. "See you around as well, Lance!"
The blue haired nodded as he and Orter stood still while watching your retreating back.
Once its just the two of them, it seems tension has risen again between them. Despite the fact Orter is training Lance, and frequently sees him around from the fact Lance is the newest Visionary.
Still, Orter can't help but stare at Lance who, of course is one of the known people to be stubborn as hell, stares back as well.
Orter is starting to think he should say something to rid of this awkward silence.
"Are you—"
"Did I—"
Both visionaries closed their mouths.
A sense of Déjà vu passes through them.
Orter tries once more.
"Did—"
"Is—"
....If he wasn't annoyed, he'd be very astonished right now.
Lance quickly spoke before Orter could, "Did I interrupt something?"
Orter just sighed heavily, "Sort of." His shoulders dropping as he recalls that very scenario just a moment ago.
"Sorry, I actually didn't see you there." Lance said politely as he could. Rubbing the back of his neck in slight awkwardness.
"Its fine. It wasn't important."
"It looked like it was though." The younger visionary rolled his shoulders as he looks away in thought. Orter raises his brow at the comment while Lance looked as if he remembered something.
"Ah, so she's the one Kaldo-san and Ryoh-san were saying that you liked?" With the way Lance said it with such a straight face, Orter had to process the words that was casually spoken.
"...What?" Orter's face crumbled in irritation.
Lance continued to look to the side in thought, oblivious to the way Orter was seething. "So that's why your schedule changed all of a sudden. I thought there's someone who was going to attack Easton so I was on guard the whole time."
Lance glanced back to Orter. "But Kaldo-san and Ryoh-san told me not to worry about it. It was quite a headache since a lot of our classmates heard news of you in the school grounds. Although, I never thought you were the type to agree to change your schedule for someone you like—" Lance felt a magical aura out of nowhere and began to get his guard up. Ever since Innocent Zero, its like an instinct at this point.
However, he paused as he noticed Orter who looked the same as usual. Straight-faced and stoic, yet Lance could see how tense he was.
"...I see." Orter said lowly.
He began to stare ahead in thought, before bringing out his wand and turn around without glancing at Lance. "Thank you for providing information. However, I would like to clarify everything was false."
One look at Orter, and you'd think he was just as calm and composed. Lance's glance at the hand gripping his wand tightly made him think otherwise.
The other knew to not say anything further, lest he drowns with sand flowing down his throat and out his ass.
"Everything?" But of course, Lance had a stubborn streak. Maybe Mash and Dot were rubbing off him too much.
Orter replied without looking back, "Everything."
"Even the part where they said you like her?" Lance pushed. Call it curiosity, or maybe the fact that someone like Orter indeed has feelings for someone, which makes it so intriguing for Lance to find out more and risk getting buried in sand.
Orter let out a deep exhale, which got Lance tense for a moment, before the Sand Cane started walking again.
"...Yes."
The Adler student watched as his mentor rounded around a corner. He was soon left alone in the hallways.
Lance couldn't help but feel like he caused a murder that's going to happen in the Bureau of Magic.
What's more intriguing, however, was that Lance immediately knew the real answer from the quick moment of silence before Orter replied.
Lance harumphed and went back to his dorms. "...The fact he had to lie even though it was already obvious."
That day, Ryoh and Kaldo struggled to give a lot of excuses to avoid Orter before they were caught.
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
FINAL : LIBRARY IN THE BUREAU OF MAGIC
Orter was getting sick of this.
Its been weeks since that awful interaction with Lance and you, yet Orter keeps finding himself victim of Ryoh and Kaldo's infuriating schemes.
What's worse, is that the other visionaries go on about their day. As if there's nothing going on.
Here, Orter is glaring at Ryoh who keeps on convincing him that Orter should get over it and just confess.
Orter would be drowning Ryoh in tons of sands if it weren't for Kaldo backing him up. "I'm getting sick of this." Orter snapped.
"Well, sucks to be you. We're getting sick of it too!" Ryoh grinned while Kaldo laughs as if Orter wasn't getting bombarded with ideas on how to flirt with someone you've like for a long time!
"It was amusing at first, seeing how you'd suddenly act so soft and caring towards her. Yet it began to look painful at how both of you were acting so oblivious." Kaldo sighed as if it was his personal problem, and the fact that Orter can't even hurt them in retaliation, because damn them and they're actually useful for protecting the citizens.
"I don't-!"
"Quit the act! You like her, she likes you back. Now confess!" Ryoh cuts him off while pushing Orter forward to god knows where.
He's actually going to kill these bastards, visionaries or not.
Of course Orter is true to his words, so he brings out his wand and glares at the two. Ryoh just smiled (even though there's a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead at the sight of Orter's wand so close to him) and Kaldo doesn't seem fazed and watches from the side.
"Oi Kaldo! A little help?"
The Flame Cane hummed playfully, "Why, you're the strongest aren't you?"
"But we're in this together!"
"If you two don't stop this, I swear.." Orter gritted his teeth. He has a meeting for goodness sake. He's busy. He's also getting tired of this bullshit of a—
"Oh? What are you three...?" You had to double take the sight in front of you. Ryoh, who's grin faltered at your voice, still has his arms wrapped around Orter's shoulder while leaning his whole body to push Orter forward. Kaldo, who's playful smile drop and is replaced with a look of surprise as he stands from the sides.
Orter on the other hand, blinks and remains still while his expression remains his usual.
That is, if it weren't for the fact that his wand was gripped tightly in his hand and pointed at Ryoh with tiny bits of sand circling around it.
You raise your brow questioningly. "I think sparring between Visionaries is better suited outside and not in the library, no?"
The three blink once before glancing up at the sign above, which shows that indeed, they're in the library.
Just like what Kaldo and Ryoh planned.
Before Orter could protest, he was roughly shoved inside the library. He managed to stop himself from colliding with you.
Curse Ryoh Grantz and his narcissistic attitude because in the end he's still a strong visionary, and Orter prays that all mirrors nearby shall break once he merely appear in front of it.
Kaldo isn't forgotten in Orter's prayers, as he wishes all stocks of honey shall obliterate.
"Well!" Ryoh claps his hands gleefully, unfazed at the menacing glare Orter is sending his way. "Orter's schedule is cleared for the day-"
"It's not-"
"It is?"
"-And he has something he wants to tell you!"
"I don't."
"You do?" You tilt your head at Orter, who inhales deeply. He can feel his patience thinning.
"I don't-"
"He does." Kaldo interjects, and Orter was one step away into murdering the two before the library doors shut.
"Also! Miss secretary, your schedule is also cleared for the day! So spend more time together in the library. I heard you like to read from Kaldo." You can hear the joy in Ryoh's voice despite it being muffled. Which makes you even more confused as you alternatively stare at Orter and back at the doors.
"There are new selections in the library! Especially that one series about the legends of magical creatures." It was Kaldo's voice this time.
"Really?" Orter looked at you in slight disbelief. From how efficient and quick you are to adapt, you sure are easily distracted at what's really happening.
So of course, Orter will use it as an opportunity to—
"Ah, but first listen to what Orter will say." You don't have to see Kaldo to know that he's smiling.
...Orter hopes Kaldo will enjoy having sand in his honey as soon as he dealt with what he's gotten himself too (unwillingly).
It was silent for a moment. This time its a truly awkward one as you and Orter stood still side by side while staring at the entrance of the library.
You blink before giving Orter an embarrassed smile, "So.. I'm guessing you were dragged here against your will?"
Orter sighed tiredly, "Yes."
"I see, but I am curious as to why they had to force you to come here. Apparently, you want to say something?" You questioned, curiosity and slight worry evident in your voice.
Did something happen? Were they hiding something? Or was it just something silly that the visionaries (Ryoh and Kaldo you're guessing) planned and somehow, Orter was on the receiving end.
You watched with slight worry as Orter continued to send daggers towards the entrance of the library. Taking a small step beside him as you examine his expression. Not knowing if he was deliberately choosing to ignore you or not.
"Orter?"
Orter's head jerk up slightly at your voice. Indeed he wasn't choosing to ignore you, but was lost in thought on how to punish his fellow visionaries (mainly the two who shall not be named).
He turned his head towards you, sensing the worry in your tone. An apology for the current situation at hand and reassurance are at the tip of his tongue, ready to reply and.. oh.
For someone with great intuition and reflexes, Orter who prides himself in having great situational awareness— its something he thinks visionaries should have— he wasn't aware you two were this close to each other.
Orter finds himself stunned. A thought he's oh so familiar with immediately floats in his brain every time he coincidentally gets a chance to be close with you.
Again, and again, and again, and again.
Its always the same.
His mind always thinks that you're prettier up close. Not that you weren't pretty if you were far away.
Orter watches your eyes slightly widen at the close proximity you two are in, despite the library being so big. Its as if a spell was cast between you two. Designated to stare at the windows of each other's soul, not wanting to look away.
You think Orter's eyes are pretty. Like sand sparkling with hints of powdered gold that's blending well.
Orter thinks your eyes are glowing. Not physically, but with emotions he himself cannot express. He always finds himself melting at your eyes.
Maybe that's what's getting him soft when he interacts with you. Maybe Ryoh is just mistaken and that anyone you interact with also unwillingly goes soft at the sight you.
Orter blinks once, as he regains his composure. He sighs before looking to the side at the moment before looking back at you.
"Uhm, well, you really don't have to say anything if... you're not ready." You let out a chuckle. "Even though I don't know anything about what you uhh, want to talk about.." A light flush blooming at the tip of your ears and across your cheeks. A rare sight even for the Orter Madl himself.
Orter looks at you closely one last time, as he felt that exact swirling emotion in his chest as he takes in your abashed expression.
He scoffs to himself, earning a confused look from you. Before sighing tiredly. He resigned to his fate that Ryoh and Kaldo put him in.
And maybe, Orter has finally come to terms that he's indeed a liar.
"...Do you have anything else that you need to accomplish in the library?" Orter walks ahead of you swiftly taking the books in your hands as he looked at them interestingly.
Your mouth gapes in both confusion and surprise. Orter turned back to you and raised a brow while holding the books. "Well? I'd rather do something productive even if two... nosy idiots decided to clear my schedule."
Orter had the satisfaction to hear your laugh. "Careful, I might get too used to hearing your composure break. Who knew the all powerful Sand Cane had a foul mouth."
The visionary tilts his head, "Hm? I wasn't the one who turned to a blushing mess at a mere eye contact." He quickly turned away but you managed to catch a small smirk on his lips.
The unexpected teasing made you scoff, this time another light blush spread your cheeks in embarrassment. "I—! That was...!"
Orter feigned ignorance as he levitated a few books to organize them to their correct spot. Still, a light smug expression grew as he watched you from his peripheral vision try to defend yourself.
He took a quick step to the side to avoid the incoming jab to his arm. You glared at him unamused before waving your wand and levitating more books, grinning in triumph as one of them managed to hit him in the head lightly.
Orter stumbled slightly as he grunted at the thud of a book against the back of his head. He glared unamusingly, "That's no way to treat a Visionary."
You shrug, "Yeah well, maybe you should be quicker on your feet."
"I am though."
"Didn't seem like it."
Its been a while since you've engaged in friendly banter with Orter. It reminded you when you two would take quick jabs at each other back in Easton.
Orter stared at you, thinking deeply whether or not if he should go along with what his mind thought of.
"Well? Did that book hit you too hard or what?"
You started to shift in place at Orter's gaze. Not knowing if you should be worried or not if you actually hurt him.
Always one to act without thinking, you lift your hand up towards his head. Hesitating slightly at the way Orter's expression slightly shifted in surprise, before resolving yourself lightly touch his brown locks while feeling around the back of his head where the book hit him.
"Did.. did that actually hurt?"
Orter who finally processed everything, let out an amused hum. He grasps your wrist gently before lowering it back to your side. His eyes, once again, examining your worried gaze.
He really can't believe it.
You thought you managed to hurt him?
Orter let out a light huff.
How cute.
"For someone who's duty is to organize schedules and meet with different kinds of people," Orter finds himself facing his body to you. He grabbed a book on a nearby shelf and raised it in the air, gently hitting your head with the spine of the book. "You still have that quick temper and sharp tongue of yours from way back." He says, and he can't help but let out a more softer tone as he meets your eyes.
Orter sighs (for what it seemed the hundredth time) and places the book back in its proper place. Satisfied at the offended reaction he managed to get from you.
"You-! I was worried and-!"
He watched as you go on and on rambling about how you were genuinely worried. About how he was an annoyance from back then until now.
He sighed, how troublesome.
Orter pushed his glasses up as he faced you. "Really, how irritating." He sighs, "Out of everyone, I had to fall for you."
You paused. Your pointer finger that was in the air that was near jabbing his chest faltered.
Once again, Orter had the satisfaction to see you caught off guard.
"What?" Your heartbeat felt like it was pounding out of your ribcage. If you could hear it, what are the chances Orter couldn't.
Both of you stared at each other, heartbeats beating as one. While silence filled the room, the minds of the two were filled with different thoughts and the sounds of their heartbeats.
Finally, Orter spoke.
"I said," he leaned in closer, bending slightly forwards so his face meets yours directly upfront.
You could see the hint of amusement and affection in his eyes.
"Do you have anything else that you need to accomplish in the library?" Orter questioned.
He smiled in satisfaction at the frozen state you are in before heading off to walk with books in hand.
If Orter had to endure weeks of stress because he was forced to confess, well, you can't blame him for wanting you to experience the same.
He did confess after all. So sue him if Orter wanted a bit of fun messing with you.
He dodges another book thrown at him, a ghost of a smile hidden from the back of his head. Yet, if only you weren't so distracted that you could see the red tints on his ears.
Don't worry though, Orter will do this seriously. He doesn't intend to mess with you for that long.
Not until Ryoh and Kaldo get what they deserve.
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well... I didn't expect this to be THIS long.. why is this so long oml im so sorry aksdlajfklashglshdf hope you enjoyed though :"D this is not proofread
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diamondcitydarlin · 1 year ago
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diving back into msscribe lore made me remember this; imo one of the funniest things about the My Immortal fanfic is the context to which it was born in the HP fandom at the time. In the early 2000's, HP fandom was a veritable arms race of who could write 'the best' most 'sophisticated' HP fanfic and the BNFs (Cassandra Clare, for example) were elevated to their pedestals because they were seen as the most talented fic writers. There were pissing contests, passive-aggressive comments about so-and-so being 'a mediocre fic writer' just shared between supposed 'friends', like one's popularity currency absolutely depended on whether or not the fandom deemed one's writing 'good enough'. Everyone was trying to be the goddamn idk Jane Austen of HP fandom pretty much. Even by 2006 (and msscribe's fall from grace, if you even care lol) this was still more or less the case- so the fact that this absolute unrepentantly bad HP fanfic came out during that time, the fact that Tara just kept posting chapters and doubling-down on people's criticisms and abject horror, the fact that this fanfic gave NO FUCKS about spelling, grammar, keeping characters intact, or even the original context of HP at all makes My Immortal's existence so much funnier than it already is on its lonesome. My Immortal was a slap in the fucking face to the entire established system and it reveled in being so.
Tellingly, I think, most people online today aren't going to know those 'popular', supremely 'well-written' fics off the top of their head, but even some IRL people I've talked with know and love My Immortal. Hell, Tom Felton has read it for his IG! Amy Lee either read or reacted to it a few of years back! It has it's own wikipedia, countless illustrations, works inspired by it and a cult following even today! I can't say the same for any of those fanfics that came before!
Whether My Immortal was a skilled troll or an unapologetic teenage girl that was going to write whatever the hell she wanted to, goddamn it, doesn't really matter because the effect was the same. Maybe remember that the next time you're agonizing over whether or not your writing is 'good enough'. Sometimes, it doesn't even need to be.
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