#thank you in advance for your manifestation
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yan-lorkai · 2 days ago
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Bonjour 😼 I would like to request something!
Platonic!Rollo x little sibling/sister reader? (I'll let you decide if gn or fem) so they are basically the middle child. older than the little brother that died (rip 🕊️🙏) but still younger than Rollo. since the death of their little brother she is now scared of her magic or magic in general. I feel like Rollo would use the trauma to manipulate them. (btw they go to the school than Rollo for plot reasons 😉) so when malleus, yuu, grim, etc come to notre dame college they begin to trust magic Users more and are not as scared of their own magic. (maybe even developing a little crush on Azul 🤭) how would Rollo feel about that?
lmao I just noticed I switched between pronouns 😔 I hope you understand this request English is not my first language
thank you in advance stay safe and hydrated byeee love 🩷
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.⁠。⁠*⁠♡゚ a/n: babe, English isn't my first language either, don't worry about typos and mistakes because they help you develop your dialect. Also, it's completely understandable! And you too, don't forget to drink hydrate yourself and have a good snack!
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.⁠。⁠*⁠♡゚Rollo is fiercely protective of his younger sister, especially after the loss of their little brother, a tragedy that has deeply shaped both their lives. He sees your fear of magic as a necessary safeguard, a way to prevent another disaster. Rollo uses your shared trauma as a tool to reinforce his worldview, subtly manipulating you to reject magic and rely solely on him for guidance and protection. He frames his actions as care, ensuring you feels safe but also isolated, keeping you away from anyone who might challenge his narrative or encourage you to embrace your magical abilities.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡゚ When Malleus, Yuu, and the others arrive, your interactions with them unnerve Rollo. He sees your growing curiosity about magic and your tentative trust in these outsiders as a threat to everything he’s worked to instill in you. Your blossoming confidence in herself and even your shy admiration for someone like Azul make Rollo seethe internally. He masks his disapproval with thinly veiled concern, urging you to avoid "dangerous influences" while plotting ways to distance you from these new connections.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡゚ Rollo’s fear of losing you to the world of magic manifests in controlling behavior. He becomes increasingly insistent on keeping you close, reminding you of your shared grief and the dangers of magic in subtle but impactful ways. Yet, as much as he tries, your growing independence and trust in others plant seeds of defiance. Deep down, Rollo is terrified — not just of you embracing magic, but of you outgrowing him and the bond you share, leaving him utterly alone.
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madrewrites · 2 years ago
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everyone say it with me now
i will get eras tour tickets
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fairyminnie444 · 19 days ago
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“BIG” manifestations
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The key to making something “big” natural is to remove the emotional weight and sense of “bigness” that you attach to the desire. What makes something seem difficult or easy is just your perception, and that perception can be changed. Here’s how:
1. Change your view of the desire
• Stop seeing the desire as “big” or “impossible.” Remember: in the eyes of the law, everything is equal. Manifesting a cup of coffee and manifesting millions are the same process. It’s your mind that places a hierarchy.
• Ask yourself: Why am I treating this as something bigger than it really is?
2. Create familiarity
• Imagine it often. Visualize your life with the desire fulfilled until it feels normal. The more you expose yourself to the idea, the more natural it becomes.
• For example, if you want to make millions, imagine your bank account with that amount, making transfers or deciding where to invest. Make the extraordinary routine.
3. Practice “feeling worthy”
• Grandiosity is often linked to the belief that you are undeserving. Use affirmations such as: “I deserve the best and I receive it easily.”
• Work on your self-image. See yourself as someone for whom amazing things happen all the time.
4. Reduce pressure
• Stop thinking that “this has to happen or nothing will work out.” Relax. Detachment is powerful because it reinforces your belief that the desire is already yours.
5. Practice with small things
• Practice manifesting simple things (like seeing a red car or receiving a compliment). Once you realize that it works, your mind will begin to accept that the same applies to the “big.”
6. Affirmations and stories
• Create a mental story where the desire is already part of your life. For example: “I have always been lucky with money, earning millions came naturally to me.”
Treat it as something ordinary: Stop putting your desire on a pedestal. Think of it as something natural and routine, just like brushing your teeth or picking up your phone.
Give thanks in advance: Gratitude helps reinforce that you already have it. Say, “I’m so grateful that this is mine.”
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Remember that you are the one who defines what is big or small. When you internalize that everything is possible and easy, the “big” becomes as simple as the “small”.
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prythianpages · 3 months ago
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Next to You | Azriel
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Azriel x Reader | The world is ending and Azriel does all he can to be next to you.
warnings: angst, this does touch on death/dying (character deaths/reader death), end of the world, mentions of blood/injuries
word count: roughly 3,400
a/n: You can thank Lady Gaga & Bruno Mars for this lol. I was supposed to post this way earlier but I decided to rewrite some things last minute.
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Death had come, manifesting in a cloud of heavy darkness. So dark it made Azriel’s shadows appear light and shiver at the sight. The darkness was rising from every crevice, every corner and a low, rumbling growl shook the earth beneath him. 
Koschei was here.
The sky began to darken, the sun being swallowed whole by the vast darkness much like the warriors at his side did. Shadows writhed and swirled around him, whispering and frantically urging him to run.
But Azriel’s eyes were still fixed on the spot where Rhysand was standing. Where Rhysand had stood.
Koschei had suddenly unleashed his wrath upon Prythian, taking each court down one by one. He saved the Night Court for last but he took its High Lord first. Feyre had stayed behind with Mor and Amren at the riverhouse to protect Nyx. Rhysand had been struck with such brutal force and swallowed by Koschei’s void of darkness so swiftly that Azriel still couldn’t believe it.
Not a single trace was left behind of his best friend, his brother, his High Lord.
Rhysand was gone. Just like that.
There was no time to grieve, no time to scream. Koschei’s men were advancing, their swords and arrows drawn and ready to continue their relentless attack. Azriel, Cassian and Nesta fought back alongside their own soldiers or what little remained of them.
It was no use. They were vastly outnumbered and no help would come as the Night Court was the last one standing. It felt as though the battle had already been lost, the sickening smirk on Koschei’s pale face sealing their fate. 
The ground buckled and split, jagged cracks tearing across the cobbled streets like veins of chaos. Trees swayed violently, their roots torn from the earth and the sounds of fae screaming rang out in the distance. All signs of life were being ripped apart at the seams.
Azriel’s gaze darted to Cassian, and an overwhelming wave of dread twisted deep in his gut. The Night Court General, usually so unbreakable, now stood battered and bloodied, his eyes void of any hope. Defeat clung to him like the grime smeared across his face. Nesta reached for his hand, their fingers threading together in silent solidarity.
A look of understanding passed between them. 
“Go,” is all Cassian said.
Azriel hesitated, his chest tightening with wild emotions. There were words burning on his tongue—words he never thought he'd have to say. But he couldn’t force them out. He didn’t need to. Cassian nodded once, his eyes conveying further understanding. A final, silent farewell. A nod that Azriel returned. 
And then he spread his wings wide, launching into the air. The wind howled against him, his shadows shuddering nervously, sensing his panic and wanting to soothe him. But they, too, could see that the end was near.
**
Azriel had never feared death.
As an Illyrian warrior and the Night Court’s spymaster, he had long prepared for it, accepted it as an inevitable part of his life. He was willing to die for his court.
But then he met you and everything changed.
Suddenly, the thought of dying filled him with terror. The fear of leaving you behind, of never being able to say goodbye. The idea of dying without feeling your touch one last time, without whispering how much he loved you. That was more frightening than any enemy he could ever face.
The words you had exchanged earlier were rushed and hurried, Koschei's attack taking everyone by surprise. He hadn’t said goodbye. He had only just enough time to promise to come back to you. 
And that’s all Azriel could think of in this moment–in what could very well be his last moments–is keeping that promise.
Smoke and dust choked the air, Koschei’s darkness thickening. He doesn’t turn around in fear for what he’d see. He kept his gaze forward, watching in distress as buildings shattered. The city of Velaris was crumbling apart around him. 
He ducked and wove through the falling stones and debris, doing his best to avoid the death arrows that seemed to be coming from every direction. His hazel eyes were sharp and focused. Even as pure fear clawed at his chest, making his heart race and hands tremble.
Your name was a prayer on his lips that manifested into a mantra of desperate hope.
The bond between you thrummed and sung madly. What once was a source of comfort was now only magnifying his fear. He could feel your terror, feel the frantic rhythm of your uneven heartbeat, echoing through the bond like a scream.
Azriel’s eyes locked on the House of Wind as it came into view, his wings straining as he pushed harder against the air. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, pushing past the protests of his muscles, the stinging of his injuries. The mountain the house was on trembled beneath the force of the quakes. His breath caught in his throat as one of the house’s spires broke away, crashing into the rocky expanse below.
He folded his wings in tight, landing hard in the courtyard, barely keeping his balance as the ground beneath him bucked and split. Cracks spidered across the stone beneath his boots, but he forced himself forward. Determination burned bright in him, every second counting. He had to find you, to be next to you.
Inside, the walls trembled, stone and dust raining from above as the ceilings began to crumble. He barreled through the halls, his destination clear. The library. He had left you there, hidden away with the priestesses and some of Valkyries, who had vowed to defend in case the attack reached them.
He thought you would be safe there. That he’d defeat Koschei and his army of death. That he’d return to his family and be able to hold his nephew, who has only had a taste of the world, in his arms again. That he’d be returning to you with the promise of tomorrow and a future where the two of you could start a family of your own. 
All those hopes and dreams were dying along with the world around him. The cruelty of fate knew no bounds. It continued to weave its harsh and bitter threads and when Azriel threw open the library doors, his heart stalled in his chest. Panic gripped him, raw and unyielding, flooding his veins like ice. So cold that he found it hard to breathe.
Because there was nothing.
No priestesses. No Valkyries. No you. 
Only darkness.
Koschei’s death magic had hit the library first. The clouds swarming below let out a hiss from the faint light that dared to creep in through the doors.  Azriel’s shadows slammed them shut, trying to hold the darkness back. The House’s energy pulsed faintly, aiding his shadows and taking over. Whatever magic remained of the House directed itself at repelling the evil force that had invaded its walls.
His shadows scattered, darting through the ruined halls, desperate to find you. But the gnawing fear clawing at his chest felt insurmountable, a type of desperation he had never known. He reached for the bond, tugging on it with everything he had. He pulled and pulled on those threads, frantically searching for any response. 
Tears stung his eyes when, at last, he felt your response.
“Please,” he rasped, his voice trembling, the word a plea torn from his soul. He didn’t know who he was begging—the shadows, the House, or the Mother herself.
His shadows moved, drawing his attention away from the door that shuddered under the pressure of Koschei’s darkness. His head snapped up as he realized where you must be.
Azriel bolted back up the stairs, his shadows scouting ahead and darting through the debris and cracks. His head began to pound and vision blurred from his injuries but he pushed on. The connection through the bond grew stronger, the tug more insistent. 
She’s safe for now. Not hurt, a shadow reported to him but he needed to confirm it for himself. Needed to see you with his own eyes, feel your presence. 
His legs trembled as he pushed forward, his lungs burning. When he finally reached the door to your shared room, he shoved it open with more force than necessary, his gaze sweeping around, wild with fear. 
And there you were.
The sight of you nearly buckled his knees. Relief washed over him in a crashing wave.  You stood on the balcony, your back turned to him, silhouetted against the dimming sky. Koschei’s creeping darkness loomed on the horizon, thick and unnatural, swallowing the sky and closing in around the House of Wind. 
The sense of relief he had felt was abruptly cut short. Time was running out.
His shadows reached you first, swirling around your feet, urging you to turn. When you did, his heart clenched painfully.
Your eyes, wide and teary, were full of fear and despair. You clutched something tightly against your chest—his cloak. Your fingers trembled as you gripped onto the fabric as if it were a lifeline.
“I thought you weren’t coming back,” your voice quivered. “I thought–I thought I wasn’t going to see you again…”
Azriel crossed the distance between you in the blink of an eye. He pulled you into his arms, wrapping you tightly against him, cradling your head to his chest. His embrace was fierce, almost desperate. Only when he buried his face in your hair, breathing in your scent, did he finally allow a few tears to slip from his eyes.
“I’m here,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. He repeated it, softer this time, as if trying to convince himself. “I’m here.”
You pulled back slightly, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. Your hands cupped his face, thumb gently wiping at his tears. When your eyes roamed over his face and then lowered, a sob tore through your body, more tears spilling from your eyes.
“You’re hurt,” you choked out, taking in the gashes and bruises marring his skin and wings, the torn leathers barely holding together. The agony in your eyes when you met his gaze once more was far more tormenting and painful than his injuries. 
Azriel shook his head, his breath ragged and labored. “It doesn’t matter.”
The world outside was falling apart—literally crumbling into darkness. Azriel was dying and every breath now tasted of bitter and agonizing defeat. He could only hope that the Mother would spare him some mercy and grant him more time so that he may go with you. 
“You’re bleeding,” you whispered, your hand reaching down to touch the blood that soaked through his leathers. It stained your hands and Azriel removed your hand from his side, placing it back onto his face, not caring over the blood that now smeared his face.
“It doesn’t matter,” he repeated as if he could force the pain away with sheer will.
Because you were the only thing that mattered to him at this moment. You are his everything. His only reason to keep fighting, to keep breathing.
You let out another sob, the sound like a dagger, piercing straight through his heart. “I don’t want this to be the end,” you whispered, your words shattering him further. 
“I know, baby, ” Azriel replied. His grip on you tightened, his wings curling protectively around your frame as though he could shield you from anything, as though nothing in the world could touch you while he was near. 
He wished he could take away your pain, your fear. That there was something he could do to stop the darkness invading the world. His brows furrowed in anguish, whether from his wounds or your suffering, he couldn’t tell. He leant his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he cried, feeling as though he failed you. As your mate, he had vowed to protect you, to shield you from harm, to always keep you safe.
“No,” you said firmly, sensing his regret and shame through the bond. 
“Azriel, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. The best partner I could’ve ever wished for. I thank the Cauldron every day for blessing me with you so” –your face tightened, the very thought of Azriel’s shame and sense of failure cutting deeply through you– “so don’t for a second think you’ve ever failed me. Not then, not now."
"I love you so, so much."
His eyes opened wide, searching yours, and there he found only love. His heart swelled with emotion, eyes filling with more tears. “I love you, too.”
And then he kissed you. One last time. The saltiness of your tears mixed into the kiss but he didn’t care. Azriel cherished every taste of you, savoring the bittersweet blend.
The harrowing sound of stone breaking and collapsing followed by more screams had you tensing and breaking apart. Azriel’s shadows circled around you both, forming a protective barrier as the world around you got darker and darker. The floor groaned and splintered beneath you and a shudder coursed through you as the air grew unbearably cold around you.
Unbridled fear and panic surged through the bond, so intense he could no longer tell where your emotions ended and his began.
“Look at me,” Azriel murmured, his voice soft but laced with a tremor, betraying the emotion he was holding back. He looked at you, his eyes tracing every feature of your face, indulging himself one more time.
Azriel’s shadows let out a hiss and your breath hitched. Koschei’s darkness had finally reached your room. But Azriel refused to let the overwhelming emotions suffocate you both, refused to let things end this way. 
 “Look at me,” Azriel said again, holding your face firmly in his hands to keep your head from turning. There was a slight tremor in his fingers as you looked back up at him, tears slipping continuously. He offered you a smile that was trembling yet still warm and comforting. “That’s it, baby. Just keep your eyes on me.”
The stone above you began to crackle and Azriel pulled you closer to him, held you tighter. “I’ve got you. In this life and the next. I will find my way back to you.” 
His eyes looked into yours, those hazel irises filled with raw vulnerability, a fierce determination. Your lips trembled as you nodded, struggling to form words past the lump in your throat. Yet, slowly, you managed a smile of your own. 
The world was ending around you, Koschei’s oppressive shadow of death looming.  He could take anything and everything he wanted. Except for this. He could never take what lived between you.
Because not even death could tear you apart, sever the thread that bound your souls.
Azriel swallowed hard, pressing his forehead to yours. His chest heaved with the effort of breathing, each inhale more shaky.  “Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow,” he whispered, his words straight from the vows he made to you during your mating ceremony. 
“And wherever we go, we'll face it together, ” you breathed, the ache in your chest nearly unbearable, mirroring the one in his. Yet, beneath the weight of fear, a fragile sliver of hope flickered. 
And Azriel couldn’t help but think back to how he’d always imagined his end would come. Brave, fearless and alone. A warrior’s death. It was the way he’d been raised and trained to believe he should go. 
But this… this was something far greater. 
He found a deeper kind of bravery. The courage to love so deeply and fiercely, even at the darkest of times. To face death not with a sword, but with you in his hold and feel whole. There was something tragically beautiful in facing the end with you by his side...
A sudden chill swept through him, paralyzing him. The warmth between you two began to fade yet your gazes remained locked. Unwavering and resolute.
Was this it? The last shard of light before the darkness consumed him? The scene around him began to dissolve, your image flickering like a candle in the wind. 
The last thing he saw was your eyes before the world faded into black.
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just kidding!
Azriel startles awake, eyes wide and frantic, searching through the darkness. He blinks and he realizes that it’s not completely dark, that he's in your shared room and it's warm and comforting. Moonlight trickles in, casting a soft glow on you and he feels like he can breathe again. You’re nestled in bed beside him, turned on your side and facing him. He watches as your chest rises and falls gently, features soft and peaceful.
So different from the you he had seen moments ago and a stark contrast to the way his chest is currently rising and falling. Rapidly and uneven, driven by the hammering of his heart.
It had all been just a dream. A nightmare.
A strand of hair falls across your face, and Azriel’s eyes catch the movement of a shadow. The one that much rather prefers to be by your side than his. It peaks over its hiding spot, your hair, to face Azriel.
Though his shadows don’t have eyes, he feels as if it is blinking right back at him, slowly assessing him. It gives a shudder and then, another shadow darts from the corner, stirring the rest awake. They rise from were they had been hiding and resting, rushing back to him in a heartbeat. 
Master is safe, they whisper as they brush up against his arms and wrap around him. Before he can reign them back, some of them flutter toward you, doing the same. Master’s mate is safe.
It was just a nightmare. You both are safe.
The cool caresses of Azriel’s shadows have you shifting slightly and they coil back as you blink your eyes open. Sorry, they whisper. Some of them retreat back into hiding in the corners, merging with the ordinary shadows of the room. The ones hovering at his side continue to whisper their reassurances, intent on calming and soothing their master.
“Az?” Your voice is heavy with sleep.
You begin to push yourself up and Azriel scoots closer to you, one of his wings draping over you to keep you in place. His hand reaches out for your face and he pulls you in close until your noses nearly touch.
Concern immediately flashes in your open and wide eyes as you must sense the lingering unease through the bond.  “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Azriel murmurs, still groggy and shaken from the remnants of his nightmare. But as he studies you—the warmth in your gaze, the absence of the fear and despair he had seen in his dream—his anxiety begins to ebb. “I am now. It was just a nightmare.”
Your brows furrow in doubt, and he brushes his thumb along them, soothing the crease. Your hand then reaches for his chest, right over where his heart is still racing and your frown deepens. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can bring you some tea.”
Though his wing remains draped over you, he hooks a leg around you for added security. “I’m okay,” he reassures you, leaning in to nuzzle against your nose. When he pulls back, he can still sense your worry so he adds: “I don’t need tea. I just need you.”
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No," he breathes back almost immediately.
He covers your hand on his chest with his own, feeling his heart begin to calm with each passing moment. He then brings your hand to his lips and presses a gentle kiss to your palm before resting it against his cheek. He can feel the warmth that blooms in your chest at his touch and reciprocates the feeling through the bond.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he echoes softly.  “Now, go back to sleep.”
“You too,” you huff out, the sound of small disbelief strangely soothing to him at this moment.
Azriel grins, his tense muscles slowly easing. “You first.”
He lets out an amused exhale as you slightly roll your eyes at him, but he can tell sleep still clings to them. After one more assessing look at him, you let out a sigh and finally, close your eyes. His gaze is tender and loving as he watches you drift back to sleep, your features softening. The grin on his face eases into a contented smile when you shift even closer, instinctively seeking his warmth.
This time, the last thing he sees before closing his eyes is your peaceful face, the lines of worry smoothed away. No trace or hint of fear or panic. Only tranquility.
And as he sinks back into the embrace of sleep, he feels relaxed and secure, knowing that the promise of another tomorrow still awaits for the both of you.
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a/n: Did I get y'all? Honestly, I was going to leave this without that last scene but then I thought that was too cruel so I stayed true to the song "I just woke up from a dream." I watched this scene between Cersei & Jaime from Game of Thrones so many times to help me write this because I wanted it to give the same vibes.
General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho
@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe
@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits13, @lorosette
@alwayshave-faith
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zyafics · 4 months ago
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HIII!!! I love ur writing sm <3 If you're taking requests, I was wondering if you could do one about a reporter reader who used to date Rafe but they broke up and now she has to interview him??? Set in college if possible! Thank you so much! I hope you're having a good day 🥰
hi baby! yes, i do take requests and i absolutely love this one 🥰 i made reader work for a network company but she's still in college and he plays basketball! (but fair warning, i know absolutely nothing about basketball so if i got the terminologies wrong, look away!!) i hope you enjoy <3 this is angsty as fuck
ALL FOR THE GAME | Rafe Cameron
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MASTERLIST (Oneshot) | College Basketball Player x Ex!Reporter!Female Reader .ᐟ
Content — college au, athlete/reporter, prior breakup, heavy angst, hurt/no comfort
Word Count — 4.2K
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You couldn't believe it.
It's considered lucky. For someone in your position—having received this entry-level job a couple of weeks ago—to have the opportunity to interview an athlete. In fact, many people would call it a great honor.
And it is. Under normal circumstances, you would be more than happy to oblige—elated, even—because people at this stage in your career rarely get such an opening. Especially since you're in college, fully prepared for this internship to be nothing more than grunt work.
Yet, this? This would allow you to advance your career at an expedited rate only offered to nepotism. You should be thrilled, overcome with joy, jumping at your feet and thanking whatever deity you believed in for such a chance.
But you don't.
Because the person to interview is Rafe.
Rafe Cameron, the top prospect of the NBA draft picks.
Rafe Cameron, your ex-boyfriend.
Your boss waits for an answer. He proposed the question a few moments ago, about covering the press conference for the last game of the season. Because of a sick reporter who called out at the last minute, your objective is to build a profile on Rafe Cameron. Since he's the leading prospect, with scouts all over the country looking at him, many people want to know more about the rising all-star who's done nothing but dominate the court.
This proposal, however, was done more out of common courtesy. No one would be stupid enough to say no, and when your boss raises a brow, signifying his manifesting annoyance from your silence and lack of celebratory cheers—you stammer.
"Um, um," you say.
"Um, what?" He prompts. "Will you be doing it or not?"
You shouldn't. There are many reasons why you shouldn't attend Rafe's basketball games. There's resentment because when you step back into that arena, back onto that court, you're reminded of how Rafe picked it over you. There's lingering sadness, residing heavily against the back of your heart, dulled from the passage of time, but not completely forgotten. And lastly, there's anger, because sometimes, all you want to do is scream, cry, and yell at the man who shattered your heart into a billion different pieces.
But that doesn't matter, does it?
Romance has no place in a reporter's life because you're nothing more but a projection for the audience, a vessel for the readers to learn about something else. You don't have feelings; you're a prop. And, certainly, it doesn't matter to your boss, who's only asking you because you're the last choice.
"Well?"
Seconds away from retracting the offer, something in your chest tightens. Logically, you know the choice to make. But your heart doesn't agree. It still hurts, aches, and burns at all of the past memories. It wants nothing more than to bury itself in a hole and pretend that such a critical part of your history does not exist.
But you can't. Life only moves forward. So, all you do is move with it.
"I'll do it."
By the time you arrive at the stadium, all you want to do is run. Anxiety pricks at your spine and your palms grow clammy by your side. Everything inside you is blaring like a warning, cautioning that this is a mistake, that you aren't ready, and that you should turn back.
Despite the badge dangling around your neck, you almost listen. Put your career on hold for a man who hasn't given a single thought about you since the breakup. You can't let him win, and with that reminder, you move with the mob, flocking to their seats.
The atmosphere is charged with exhilaration, and you're reminded of everything before. It's automatic. How easy it is for you to return to old patterns, to follow them, and to find yourself trickling down the steps and towards the courtside seats reserved for family and friends of the team.
Until a hand is placed on your lower back, and a security guard guides you to the press box instead.
It's quieter. The enclosure of the room dulls the energy of the crowd, with a thick sheet of glass separating you from the rest of the people, and reminding you of your purpose.
You take a seat on a cushioned chair, reserved for your network, and look around the place. You're among the most seasoned reporters in their field, chatting with one another, familiarity engulfing the air that somewhat alienates you. They pay you little mind—saved for a curious-yet-judgmental glance at how you wore a jersey compared to their formal suits and pencil skirts. When you follow their line of vision, you realize it wasn't an ordinary merch of the UNC team but Rafe's.
"Fuck," you mumble. You hadn't realized you picked out his jersey; it was left in the back of your closet and you couldn't see yourself attending your college's game without a visual form of support. This probably appears to the rest of the journalists that you're nothing more than a superfan who managed to weasel their way into their network.
It makes your stomach flips with nausea. You want to separate Rafe from you as much as possible, and with a quick run to the bathroom, you change out of the merch and throw it over your tote, straightening out your blouse underneath. When you return, the players are slowly filling out to court.
The visitors' team enters first; UNC follows. You count each player that exits the locker room, watching their expressions as they grin and absorb the energy of their home stadium, as they walk down the length of the bench, as they talk among themselves and share playful jests and banter. You didn't even know you were holding your breath until Rafe stepped out last, to the loudest cheer of the crowd, with a solemn look on his face.
You watch as Rafe searches the stands. Not in the same manner as his teammates, where they're acknowledging fans, or sending flirtatious winks to pretty girls sitting front row. It's different— with purpose. He's searching for something—someone—and your heart clenches in your chest at the thought of Rafe having found your replacement.
But it's been months, hasn't it? It should be more than fair game for him to date whatever he wants. You can still act professionally with this developing news, but it's striking down at your armor.
However, whoever he's looking for, he doesn't find. Rafe goes to huddle with the rest of his team as their Coach gives a final motivational speech before releasing them.
The game starts with a tip-off, and once the referee throws the ball in the air, Rafe takes it into his possession.
He sprints across the court, slicing through the opponent players, and scoring points on the board. Rafe is powerful, knowing exactly when to exchange his hands and pass to his teammates, where exactly to cut through, and when to commit to a play. Commentary heard from the built-in speakers can attest to it, as their primary focus is on how Rafe is taking the last game of the season by storm.
But, while everyone's eyes are glued to the game, as much as you try not to, you can't do anything but stare at Rafe.
He's just as incredible as he was when you were dating him; if not, more. In some way, it makes your heart tighten, knowing that this validates his reason for the breakup. You just wish he felt some semblance of the pain you feel. But as much as you hate it, you're also proud. Rafe has come so far, and trained so hard, to make it to where he is. If he secures a win for the last game, it will be nothing but a guaranteed track to the NBA and luxuries and fame ahead.
All without you.
By the time the game ended, Rafe scored the last shot in a close game, delivering the end of the conference with a secured UNC victory. Everyone in the press box stands from their seats, heading to the media room where they'll be meeting a panel of UNC athletes for questions.
Yet, you linger. You step up to the glass, watching as the erupted cheers of the audience surround the entire stadium, much to the glee of the UNC team, while Rafe stands in the middle of the court for a few seconds, soaking everything in. His eyes pan across the bleachers again, in search for something, before his expression falls and he retreats to the locker room.
When you enter the room of journalists, you slip into a seat. It'll be a while before the players come shuffling in, and you take each second to rehearse and calm your nerves. In one hand, is a tape recorder, while the other is a notepad of the written questions you plan to ask.
UNC's Publicist steps out first to provide an official statement and give a brief overview of the conduct of this press conference. She'll be the moderator, giving everyone enough time to ask all of their questions, and she'll be selecting the networks to her own accord. After everyone comes to the general consensus, the door opens and the Coach steps out with his players.
You watch with bated breath as Rafe is the last to enter, freshly showered and changed into grey sweatpants with a matching UNC zip-up jacket. His headphones dangles around his neck, while his expression exudes nothing but boredom and reluctance. Rafe has always hated interviews, especially post-games, during your relationship. At least that's the one thing that hasn't changed.
You drop your gaze to your lap, swallowing hard as you calm your racing heartbeat. It's been months, yet you still feel the same emotions coursing through you as if no time has passed—longing, hurt, sadness. You whisper positive affirmations, reminding yourself that it's just a job, and that'll be short and simple. You won't even have to speak to Rafe, because your boss may have said to find out more about Rafe Cameron for your profile, nowhere did he say you have to ask him specifically.
When Rafe sits on his chair, he lazily scans the room, a habit of his to pass the time, before he spots you among the crowd. In the third row, second seat; your favorite choice to sit. You don't see it, but a corner smile lifts to his face, demeanor changing, and he straightens up in his seat.
Throughout the conference, the publicist hands the microphone off to whoever she selects. They often direct their questions at Rafe, to which he gives monosyllabic and deadpanned answers. Then, when they try to seek more clarification, Rafe gives them nothing, much to their grimness.
You keep your head low, writing down notes, and drawing doodles on the edge of your notepad. Anything to avoid making accidental eye contact with Rafe. But, regardless, you feel him. The heat of his stare remains on you the entire time, especially when the publicist approach you and hands you the microphone.
It’s time.
With trembling hands, you stand from your seat. You turn your attention to the front of the panel, introducing yourself, your network, and your job. Smiles spread across Rafe's teammates as they recognize you, and you offer a polite one of your own.
Beginning at the furthest player at the end of the table, you ask, "How would you describe Mr. Cameron as a teammate?"
He grins as if he was prepared for this. "Rafe's an incredible teammate and captain. He's a capable leader, who's strong on the court, but also strong on having his teammates' back. You saw it back there—" That earns a small laugh from the reporters. "But, yeah. Rafe's one of my favorite teammates, if I'm being honest."
You tilt your head at that conclusion, because, if you remember correctly, in freshman year, he often rivaled with Rafe and got into fights over minor things. Regardless, you nod, thanking him for his response, and moving on to the next player with the next question.
"What do you think about Mr. Cameron's plays throughout the season?"
"Is that all you got for me, Mrs?" The second player teases playfully, causing heat to warm your cheeks. "Whatever, I got this. Well, let me think. Rafe's always had solid stats. He's one of the hardest-working players on and off the court, and he always keeps his head focused. Even when he had a bit of a bump a couple of months back, he adjusted his plays and bounced back. That’s his resilience."
Your breath hitches at the implication. You try your hardest not to sneak a glance at Rafe, but you can't help yourself. Turning to your side, you discover Rafe watching you, his expression grimacing at the confession of his teammate.
Months ago. The only thing that changed was your breakup. Does this mean he was as affected as you were?
You try not to think too much about that. Thanking the player again, you move to the next, asking more about Rafe's character—his prospects for the NBA, and his experience managing a student-athlete. You didn't ask just about Rafe, you asked about the games and conferences too, but most of the players always return their answers to Rafe. Positively. As if they had this unspoken agreement behind the scenes to hype Rafe up to his ex-girlfriend.
Time goes on, and you start to immerse yourself in the role. It wasn't as difficult as you expected, especially because you're entertaining a team who've known you all throughout their collegiate career. They answered the questions with enthusiasm and a playfulness that can only be recognized by years of familiarity. You can feel the energy from the reporters shift, stewed with envy, because of how the players are showing favoritism to a novice reporter who barely has her foot in the door.
Rafe watches you the entire time. How truly riveting you are in your role. How you command the room with your questions, how you captivate the players, and how you grow more comfortable as you talk to your teammates. He waits patiently as you make your way down the table, for his chance to talk to you.
But just as he's about to be next, you return the microphone to the moderator. You were going to leave him hanging. Before you can fully hand off the mic, a voice commands the room.
"What about me?"
It was Rafe. You lift your head to find him leaning against his own microphone propped on the table, his blue eyes pinned on you, his expression full of want. Your lips part, but no words fall through. The publicist doesn't take back the microphone.
You stammer. "What about you?"
"Don't you have any questions for me?" He questions, as the crowd murmurs with surprise. On any other day, Rafe would've gladly taken the lack of questions aimed at his face. You've done your research; you've seen his previous interviews.
"I..." You can't seem to answer him. All eyes—from the Coach, to the players (who are smiling their head off), to the reporters—turn to you. "I've asked all my questions."
"I'm sure you can think of one more," he declares, his eyes not once straying from your face. As if he's taking the time to memorize all of your features, to absorb any changes. "Come on, hit me."
Everyone waits. Eagerly. With jealousy. The media room stills with a palpable silence, and you can't do anything but retract your arm, holding the microphone back up to your lips.
You blink, racking your brain for any questions. You truly did ask all of them, and there's nothing appropriate enough to ask in front of a room full of people who are recording and monitoring your moves. So, you settle on something safe.
"How did you feel scoring that winning shot?"
Rafe takes a deliberate moment to consider his answer. His silence tells it all. Before he leans down against the mic, his lips centimeters from the pop filter, and he says, "Empty."
Flashes of the camera go off, and hushed whispers are heard throughout the room. But none of that matters to you. Your eyes remain on Rafe, your heart skipping beats from his confession, and you tame enough of your voice before asking a follow-up. "Can you explain why?"
He nods. "Basketball is great and all, and I'm grateful for everything that has happened, and all I have accomplished. Hell, I'm even grateful for this team right here that's been such a hardass on me since day one," he gestures to his teammates on the panel, and they all grin and laugh. One even blows him a kiss. "But, at the end of the day, it's just a game. Without the people you love by your side, it's meaningless."
You truly feel like all the air has been sucked out of your lungs and tears crowd your waterline. When his words finally deliver through, it's almost a straight shot to your chest. This was the admission you'd been waiting for, but it didn't feel satisfactory whatsoever. It's painful, all of the old wounds opening by their stitches, and grief comes crawling up your throat, demanding to be felt.
You don't answer him. You can't. Rafe watches you carefully, trying to gauge your reaction, trying to see if his words had any impact, but you hide them well. For now. With tears stinging your vision, and seconds from unraveling at the seams, you drop the microphone onto the chair and leave the room in a rush.
That's when he realizes he fucked up.
Rafe stands from his seat, ready to follow after you, but his Coach commands him to sit down. His gaze remains on you until you exit the room, but with direct orders, he can do nothing but slump back into his chair.
When Rafe finishes the rest of his interviews, with more reluctance than he had before, he wants nothing more than to go back to campus to search for you. But he doesn't know if that's such a good idea. Clearing out, Rafe steps out of the doors.
To where you were waiting.
"You had no right," you snap, as Rafe heads to the exit of the stadium. He whips around at the sound of your voice, finding you leaning against the wall. As much as he knows he fucked up, he can't explain the happiness he feels at seeing you still here.
"For what?" Rafe prompts with an easygoing smile, "Talking? I'm pretty sure that's what the press conference is about."
But you don't take it so easy.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," you huff, "You used my words against me."
During the breakup, Rafe had said something along the lines of focusing on his basketball career. You had rebutted that basketball can't be the one thing in his life. At the time, he disagreed, prompting the necessity of the breakup further. It had hurt to hear your words twisted and used against you.
"It was friendly," he reassures. "Just like the rest of my teammates. Talking like we're friends."
"We're not friends and you know that."
He frowns. "We said we would be."
"No, you said that," you hiss, clenching your hands by your side, memories slapping you and prickling your skin. "To rid yourself of the guilt, or to make it seem like permanent. I don't know. But it doesn't work that way with me, Rafe. We aren't friends."
His brows pinch together, and agitation flares through his hard features. "So, that's what it's gonna be like? You come to my games and you interview my entire team but you ignore me because we broke up? That's unprofessional."
You falter. "That's not fair."
"It isn't?" He challenges, stepping closer into your space. "How do you think I felt when you were interviewing every single one of my teammates about me, but refusing to talk to me? To look at me? What does that suggest?"
"That I got everything I needed from your teammates."
"You could've gotten it directly from the source."
"I didn't need to,"
"You could've,"
"Why are you so adamant about me talking to you?"
"Because you're acting like a vindictive bitch."
You stagger back as if he struck you, and Rafe instantly regretted the words that left his mouth. But he can't take them back. Your lips part, and you stare at him in disbelief, but you come up with nothing to defend yourself.
With the hardest glare you can muster, you proclaim, "Fuck you, Rafe."
And you turn to leave.
Rafe quickly follows after you. "Wait—that's not—I didn't mean that."
"I don't want to talk to you anymore."
"Just like you didn't want to talk to me in the conference room?"
"You broke up with me!" You snap, stopping in your tracks with such abruptness, that Rafe almost ran into you. Turning back around to face him, you say, "You were the love of my life, and you left me, and you expect me to keep it professional?"
Rafe says nothing.
"I'm trying," you croak, tears crowding your vision again, and you hate how vulnerable and pathetic you feel in his presence. Like it was back to that night in the car, where Rafe said it was over. "I'm trying to do this right."
Rafe watches your face with anguish, but he can't say anything. You're trying hard to keep your composure, and regain some semblance of stability, you say with a even voice, "I'm glad everything is working out the way you want it to. I'm glad you get this bigshot career and you're about to make it in the NBA, and I'm glad you found it so easy to move on but that's not how it worked with me." Your voice cracks. "I loved you. I can't just forget about it like it's nothing."
His voice is small when he answers. "I didn't."
"You didn't?" You repeat with disbelief. "Rafe, you're thriving. You barely look like our breakup had any impact on you. You're about to secure one of the biggest deals in NBA history. What else could you possibly be missing?"
"You."
His dark eyes connect with yours in utmost vulnerability and it cripples you. All your aggression and anger, all your pent-up frustration—it makes you upset that Rafe manage to disarm you with one word.
"No," you step back, shaking your head, "You can't do that."
"It's the truth."
"It's too late."
Rafe looks pained at your declaration. "Don't say that."
"Don't say what?" You sniffle, your vision blurring with hot tears. "My truth? Did you expect me to wait around for you to come to your senses? To beg for you to take me back?"
"I didn't..." Rafe stammers, searching your face for any indication that it isn't too late. That he still had a chance. But he doesn't find any. "I was honest back there. Any win without you feels empty."
"Stop,"
"I made a mistake."
"Rafe—" You shake your head again, sucking in a deep breath, and needing him to listen and step back. "I'm not here to talk about that. I don't want to talk about that."
"But I do,"
"But I don't," you declare firmly. "I just... I need you to understand. You can't do that. I'm trying to move on with my life. And I understand that we're going to be seeing each other, no matter how I don't want to. But I'll get used to it. I'll numb that pain. But you can't do that. Here; back there. It wasn't fair to me."
Your words sound too permanent. Too real. Rafe can't stand it.
With desperation, he pleads, "Can we talk?"
"We're already talking."
"No, I'm talking about us," Rafe says, taking a step forward. Only for you to take one back. "Please."
"There's nothing to talk about it."
"There's so much to say."
"Name one."
"I miss you."
"Rafe," you cry, tears streaming down your face that you can no longer contain. He hates seeing you cry. He hates it more to be the reason. All he wants is to pull you into his arms and apologize, over and over, to soothe the pain, but it looks as if it would hurt worse if he tried to touch you. "Please stop. You're breaking my heart again."
He made a mistake. There are so many times he can say that. When he saw you in the media room, for the first time in months, it came rushing back to what he's missing. How much he's losing you. He wanted to ask you so much—about how you're doing, to learn how you got the job, to uncover more about how close you are to achieving your dreams.
But he was barricaded. By responsibilities, obligations, and duties. He couldn't ask you in a room full of people. He couldn't help you when his father pressured him to break up with you for his career. He couldn't do anything, then. But he wants to do better now.
He says your name, so defeated, in a last-ditch effort. But you shake your head.
You need to leave this place with whatever is left of your pride and dignity. So, you straighten your spine, take out his jersey from your tote, and hand him the last remnant of your relationship. "Congratulations on your win, Mr. Cameron. I wish you the best in your career."
And when you turn to leave this time, he doesn't stop you.
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pubbamoon · 6 months ago
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Your Ideal Partner In Your Destiny Matrix Chart
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Hi! I haven't been there for a while, 'cause I needed some sort of a break. Thanks for your understanding in advance. We can go further with spiritual content now. This time, I'm going to make a post about how and where you can look for your ideal partner in your Destiny Matrix chart. If you're single and do not exactly know which type of partner is the right one for you, I hope that this post might help you in any way, shape or form. But as always, take things as they resonate with you, do not force anything if it doesn't fully align with you. So, without a further delay, let's get into it.
If you did read my first post (the intro) about the Matrix of Destiny, you might know that there is a love line which is formed by three numbers and it talks about our relationships style, its struggles, partner etc. The second number in this love line is a number which is placed the closest to the heart icon/emoji, represents our ideal partner and the characteristics of our partner.
Here is the example of that. I marked the adequate number with the black color, so you can see it clearly. This is my Destiny Matrix chart and the number I have close to the heart icon/emoji is number 7, so my partner could have characteristics of this number and arcana, which is The Chariot in this case. I hope it's understandable.
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I'm going to describe each numbers and possible characteristics of your partner now.
1 (The Magician) - If you have number 1 close to the heart icon/emoji, then it means that your partner may have natural leaderships qualities. Your partner might be confident, independent and even powerful. He or she might also inspire you to live your own life however you want and will definitely give you freedom. With The Magician card being present here, you can basically manifest any partner you want, 'cause this card is about manifestations.
2 (The High Priestess) - This partner may likely be an emotional and empathetic type of person. You might seek for a partner who can take care of your and who wants to build a family with you, since number 2 is ruled by the Moon, which does represent family. Your partner might be in tune with the feminine side, no matter if this person is male of female.
3 (The Empress) - Your partner might be very beautiful and good-looking, even wealthy. This partner may also be creative and interested in artistic fields. You can experience a lot of joyful moments and you can have fun a lot with your partner in general. You may find comfort, pleasure and even luxury in your relationships.
4 (The Emperor) - There is a strong masculine energy in this arcana. Your partner could be a natural leader and logical, which are the characteristics of a divine masculine energy. I wouldn't be surprised if you married some kind of a CEO or a manager with this arcana. This partner might also be controlling, so be aware of that.
5 (The Hierophant) - Another arcana which radiates some kind of masculine energy. This arcana is mostly about traditions, conformity and religion, so your partner might have a traditional and religious beliefs and might be someone who likes the order. Number 5 is associated with communication, which means that your partner might be communicative and adventurous, obviously.
6 (The Lovers) - This arcana is basically about relationships and love, so having this arcana in your love line could be a jackpot for you, but take it as it resonates, please. Your partner may give you emotional support and may buy you a lot of expansive things to impress you. The communication with your partner might be on point, unless your partner is negative and judgmental.
7 (The Chariot) - Your partner is likely to be strong-willed, ambitious and disciplined with an active lifestyle. There is also a spiritual side of your partner, since number 7 represents spirituality. The Chariot card is related to Cancer sign, so you can have a family with your partner. This also tells me that your partner should have a balance between spiritual and material world.
8 (Justice) - Your partner might be a balanced, organized and responsible individual, 'cause number 8 is ruled by Saturn. He or she could be a lawyer too. Your relationships may be dealt with a lot of conflict, aggression or you may simply deal with karmic relationships. You might need a partner who can calm things down and put things together.
9 (The Hermit) - This arcana is all about solitude, introspection and reflection and it might be hard to have this arcana in your love line. If you struggle with your relationships or you constantly feel lonely, know that it's quite normal with this arcana. Your ideal partner might be someone who is wise, mature, compassionate, empathetic and who can guide you through spiritual world. It can also indicate starting relationships later in life.
10 (Wheel of Fortune) - This position might be very lucky in terms of your relationships. You can basically hang out with almost everyone, but don't always rely on luck when it comes to your relationships. Meeting your ideal partner might seem like some fated event you cannot control. Your relationships may also seem like cycles and if your relationship is negative or toxic, that cycle needs to be ended.
11 (Strength) - Your partner might be strong, courageous, energetic and optimistic, according to the Strength card. Number 11 is a very spiritual number and is associated with intuition. It takes courage and accountability to follow intuition. I sense that you might need a partner that you can count on. Watch our for an aggressive nature of your partner.
12 (The Hanged Man) - This tells me that your partner could be caring, creative, smart, even selfless. You might need the type of partner who will take care of you, support you, sacrifice for you and who'll give you different perspective of life. Be careful not to be too attached to your partner and to make some boundaries in your relationships.
13 (Death) - Your relationships might be transformative period of your life where you can shift your mentality and a view of your whole life. Your partner might come across as mysterious, unpredictable or even shady. This person could also be adaptable into almost every situation. Make sure to hang out with people you can change and progress with.
14 (Temperance) - Your partner might be balanced, emotional and mature. This can be an indicator of a normal and moderate kind of relationships. Sometimes you should be patient for your partner to come in. This partner might have an artistic or healing abilities and can inspire or help you to see the bright side of life.
15 (The Devil) - This arcana can indicate having a toxic relationships and being with over materialistic partner. Your partner might be someone who embraces his or her dark side. You can date someone who deals with addictions, who is charismatic, energetic and passionate. There can be a strong bondage between you and your partner as well.
16 (The Tower) - Your partner and overall relationships might be so chaotic that you can experience whether mental breakdown or spiritual awakening. This number/arcana represents an intense partner who may go into the extremes (violence, aggression, attachments) or a spiritual and intelligent partner who may lead you into the spiritual growth.
17 (The Star) - After previous arcana, where everything falls apart, then comes a healing journey, according to The Star card. You might experience more positive things with your partner or in overall relationships. Your partner is likely charming, sensitive or even popular person everyone knows about. You can share some unique moments with your partner.
18 (The Moon) - You may date someone who is deeply imaginative, mysterious and intuitive. This arcana represents illusions, which means that your partner might be in his or her own world a lot or you can fantasize about your relationships a lot. Your partner might also be creative and artistic, which relates to this arcana.
19 (The Sun) - I feel that you need a partner who will give you joy and positivity into your life. Your relationships could be filled with optimism and celebration, meaning that you may go to the parties with your partner a lot. There's a chance for you to have a happy and fulfilled relationships and you can benefit from your relationships, but it can indicate being depressive after breaking up.
20 (Judgment) - This arcana relates to the family and ancestors, so you may need a type of partner who wants to build a family with you. Your partner might be spiritual, intuitive, mystical who may guide you to live your life differently, but this partner could also be very judgmental to you. It can indicate being in the karmic relationships.
21 (The World) - Your partner might be an open-minded individual who has a natural diplomatic abilities and who can hang out with people easily. This arcana may indicate having a partner from abroad or from a more different culture than yours. You could meet your partner in your work environment, but it doesn't mean that will be the case of everyone.
22 (The Fool) - I sense that your partner might be spontaneous, adventurous, explorative and free-spirited. You could experience really fun and unpredictable moments with your partner. Your relationships might seem like an adventure, basically. The problem is that this could lead into disorganization and irresponsibility into your life, especially if you're someone who needs some kind of a structure in your own life.
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Okay, I think that would be all for today. I hope you enjoyed it and learned something new. For me, it was great to come back after not posting anything for a week. Comment what you want to see next on my astrology blog if you want to. I wish you all had a beautiful day ahead. See you!
Best regards,
Paky McGee
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pamicakery · 5 months ago
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₊✩‧₊˚౨ LOA IS EXHAUSTING ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
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Let's be honest.. We have been trying to force ourselves to affirm, visualise and it's been years that we are waiting for our manifestation. We can't even manifest in field we used to success, we try more and more techniques but fail again and again. We got depressed, exhausted, sad and we want to give up. We see success stories over success stories. We see tumblr Loa blogs coming and deactivating.
You want your Sp? You are chasing after them.
You want your job? You're distributing resumes everywhere waiting for an answer.
You want your ideal body? You are avoiding mirror.
You are affirming that you are that bad bitch that gets everything you want? You're crying and asking every Loa blog how to manifest this with many accounts or on anon.
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The error is not the world. You are. Well.. Said like that is harsh but let me explain.
You are manifesting with ego.
You want to manifest with logic, reasons and known pattern. You are not using the subconscious mind but your ego. You want to convince your Rational ego that you have that body that you don't have, that your boyfriend is this guy who blocked you, or this job that you don't have. Let's put it like this :
🧸: I have my ideal body!
🧠: No you don't look at the mirror you are the same.
🧸: I swear I have it!
🧠: No you don't, you don't work out or diet.
🧸: but I have it.
🧠: Why are you avoiding mirrors if you have your ideal body?
🧸: Because... I don't have it yet but it will come soon!
🧠 : Who told you you don't have it?
🧸: I see it in the mirror.
🧠:So you don't have it, I was right.
🧸:Yeah you are right, I don't have my ideal body.
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Why are you relying on a rational person to prove a miracle?
You are more stressing out and forcing yourself to visualise more than anything.
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What you should do then?
Nothing.
🎀 When I mean nothing, it means relying on the miracle person to prove the miracle. Make it easy for yourself. You can speak to the subconscious mind, who doesn't have any limiting belief, agrees with you, prove you right, show you and tell you what you want and believe in you and will do anything for you.
🎀 Your subconscious mind is not your bitch, your whore or your slave. It's your best friend. You don't need to tell it everyday :
'' Make me breath ''
'' Make me walk ''
'' Make my heart beats ''
'' Digest my food ''
. It takes care of everything but you prefered to listen and talk to your ego instead.
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Let's put it like that :
🧸: I have my ideal body.
🎀: Yes you have and you are so beautiful.
🧸:no... I still have the same body.
🎀: what? Of course not, in your 4d you have it!
🧸: Really ? But in the 3d -
🎀: I've finished the painting in the 4d, let me start sketching here so you can see it too. It Will be beautiful, trust me.
🧸: But what if it doesn't come.
🎀:You have to trust me, because I trust you when you tell me how's your life is going in the 3d. You're my eyes, remember?
🧸:Okay then, I trust you.
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It's like someone ordered a commission for a cake. The person told how exactly they want their cake okay? With detailed. So now it's for the baker to catch up to do the exact replica of the cake. But if everytime the customer calls '' Is the cake is finished yet? '' or '' You won't make it in time '', the baker doesn't have time to bake so when the day will come, there will be nothing on the table.
But
If the customer trust the baker, and let them cook, the baker will be more concentrated on the cake and will give a stunning result.
You need to trust the subconscious mind and let it work. Your only job is to know what you want and how would you feel if you already have it. If you want to send a reminder to the subconscious mind, send it the feeling of already having it.
🩷know that your subconscious mind is your best friend, if you trust it and enjoying in advance because you know it will bring your the best results it will thanks you with your desires.
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neil-gaiman · 1 year ago
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Hi Neil,
I hope this doesn't get buried in the ask box, but if it does, I'll still be glad I sent this, just to know this little lengthy slice of complement and thanks existed in your inbox is enough. I apologize for the length, I am pretty sure the grammar is in tatters...and probably just the general awkwardness in advance.
Frist of all, congratulations for Good Omens Season2, it's a roaring success even here in this...I don't know, bottomless pit? I myself and some others fondly call it the PRC. The show didn't made pass the firewall officially, neither was Prime Video. People still managed to watch it eventually by VPNs, shared accounts and when times are desperate...sorry, piracy. Chinese fans, including myself, using every tool in the shed to try to fool Amazon™ and our goverment, just to watch this on Prime and try to help to manifest S3, is one hell of an experience. This kind of experience is pathetic, ridiculous....and somehow hilarious in a dark, gallows humor way, almost like some bad spy comedy, I just have to share it. Worth all the trouble by the way, the reward at the end of the back channel is...well, some divine comedy to say the very least. All in all, it's a brilliant show and a solid job well-done.
Then some of my personal gratitude. They say good art resonates with your soul, I now know this is just as true as matter and gravity. Since I know Good Omens certainly resonated with mine. I'll redact the typical "depression and anxiety reduced me to a husk, a shadow of my former self" story and get to the result for brevity's sake. I can't write anything meaningful while I know I took joy in writing, I can't finish reading anything longer than a brochure while I know I was such a bookworm in the past. Then I was compelled to get up in the middle of the night, wrote a full 5000 character long analysis after marathoned S2, and then write even more analyses in both Chinese and English. I picked up American Gods because I know I need more Neil Gaiman in my life and then impressed by myself for actually finishes it the second time 5 years later. I didn't know how exactly that happened through one watch of a TV show, but I know I am changed for the better. I grasped life again, and can start living again, somehow. The resonation just keeps on giving.
This is a quiet, gentle and romantic story, it is soothing, accepting, filled to the brim with love and kindness, and it makes me feel safe and accepted and loved in a way I never felt before. I thank you for it, and hope thart I may have the privlige to witness more of this miracle. Thank you Neil, Sir Terry Pratchett and the team for this miraculous book and this miraculous show.
谢谢。(I just had to say thanks with my mother tongue, it feels more earnest this way)
Thank you so much! I'm impressed by everything you and your countryfolk have gone through to watch it as legitimately as you could.
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number1jeonginstan · 6 months ago
Note
Hii juu can i request mean dom jeongin making reader wear a vibrator to dinner with all the members
-🥟
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A/N: I really hope you like this!! I wanted to do something kinda crazy... but like not too crazy, so I hope it's good. I think I might turn this into a series, but we will see!! Thank you so much for such a good ask, and it was so fun to write!
Pairing: afab!reader x I.N.
WC: 3.6k
CW: Vonyerism, dom!Jeongin, Jeongin called daddy, vibrator usage, idk what else...
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"You ready to go sweetheart?"
"I'm almost done, I just need to find my earring" you muttered back, searching high and low for the earring that you swore you just had in your hand mere minutes ago.
Jeongin chuckled, watching you search. "Do you need any help?" He teased, leaning against the door frame with his hands in his pockets.
"Yes please" you whined, crawling on your hands and knees trying to get a feel for it in the carpet, your dress riding up your body.
Jeongin's breath hitched, his eyes tracing the expanse of exposed flesh. He took a few steps forward, kneeling behind you. "You know, you're making this difficult sweetheart." He whispered in your ear.
"Jeongin, we have a dinner with your members to get to, we are not doing this now" you whined, feeling his body pressed ever so slightly against you.
Jeongin chuckled, his hands slowly moving to your hips. "Are you sure you don't want to skip that dinner?" He teased, leaning down to place a kiss on your neck. His hands slowly inched up your dress, caressing your bare skin.
"Yang Jeongin" you deadpanned, using his full name to try and get some authority over him. "It's a dinner that Chan planned almost two months in advance, we are not skipping it just because you saw a bit of my skin, which might I add, you saw this morning"
Jeongin chuckled, his lips trailing up your neck, leaving a trail of kisses. "I know, I know." He said, his hands still roaming under your dress. "But do you honestly expect me to keep my hands off you when you're dressed like that?" He whispered, his breath hot against your skin.
"For right now, yes"
Jeongin sighed in feigned reluctance, pulling back slightly. "You're no fun, you know that?" He teased, moving his hands down and giving your ass a firm squeeze.
You rolled your eyes, before perking up, an idea manifesting in your mind. 
"If you really want, we could do that one thing you always wanted to try" you grinned rushing to your bedside drawer, holding up a tiny bullet vibrator
Jeongin's eyes darkened with lust as he looked at the toy. "Oh,” he muttered quickly before moving towards you. 
“You really want to play dangerous games today, huh baby?"
He quickly crossed the room, pushing you down on the bed before climbing on top to hover over you.
"As long as you promise to actually go to dinner, I'll let you use it on me the entire time"
Jeongin's eyes widened, his lips curving into a smirk. "You really are trying to tempt me with a good time?" He asked, his voice low and husky.
"I mean, as long as it gets you out the door Daddy" you giggled, playing with the object in your hand. You slowly twirled it in between your fingers, dangling it in front of his face. He looked like a dog begging for his owner to throw him a bone. 
Jeongin's eyes locked onto the toy, his hands gripping your hips to keep himself steady. He leaned forward, his lips barely brushing against your ear. "You're playing a dangerous game here. You know what that does to me." He whispered, his breath hot against your skin.
"What does it do?" you whispered, looking at him with faux innocence.
Jeongin growled, his hands tightening their grip on your hips. "You know exactly what it does to me, little tease." He said, his voice rough with desire. "It makes me want to do all sorts of things to you."
"Why don't we do all those things at dinner?" you giggled, slowly slipping the vibrator in yourself, before getting off the bed, and pushing him off of you.
Jeongin stumbled back, his eyes widening as he watched you. "You can't be serious-" He protested, but the grin on his face betrayed him.
"Why not Innie? You were the one who said you wanted to try it out?" you grinned before going back to looking for your lost earring.
Jeongin let out a low moan, his eyes practically glued to you. "You're killing me here." He said, his voice roughened by desire. 
You slowly turned to him pouting. "We are getting late and this stupid thing is nowhere to be found" 
"You mean this stupid thing?" 
He slowly pulled out the earring from his pants pocket, dangling it in front of you.
You looked at him, an expression of surprise and annoyance on your face. "You had it this entire time?" You said, your irritation quickly fading at the sight of Jeongin's smug grin.
"If you give me my earring back, I'll give you the remote"
Jeongin chuckled, holding out the earring for you to take. "You drive a hard bargain, sweetheart." He said, handing over the earring reluctantly.
"Yeah, yeah, now let's get going before the boys beat you up"
You quickly put on the earring before slipping on your shoes, and heading out the door. You stood there goosebumps on your arms waiting for Jeongin to unlock the car until you started to feel the pulse of the vibrator inside of you. You quickly hunched over as he came out of your apartment, a smirk on his face.
"What was that for" you screamed, the vibrator still buzzing inside of you.
Jeongin chuckled, the smirk on his face widening. "It's just a little preview of what's to come sweetheart." He said, opening the passenger door for you. "Now get in."
You quickly got into the car, the vibrations of the toy setting your body on fire. Jeongin hopped into the driver's seat, starting the car. He glanced over at you, enjoying the way you fidgeted in your seat.
"Can we at least turn it off before dinner" you begged, your head pressed against the cool window to try and get any relief. Your entire body gets hotter and hotter by the second.
It didn't help that Jeongin had brought his hand down to your thigh, rubbing it as he slightly turned up the vibrations.
Jeongin chuckled, his fingers tracing circles on your sensitive inner thigh. "And miss out on the fun? I don't think so." He said, his smirk growing wider. "Just relax and enjoy the ride."
"Please Innie, it hurts, I'm gonna cum soon if you keep this up" you hiccuped, your eyes beginning to swell with tears.
Jeongin glanced over at you, his smirk faltering slightly when he saw the tears in your eyes. He paused for a moment, contemplating. "Alright, but just for a few minutes, okay sweetheart?"
He turned the vibrations down but kept his hand on your thigh, caressing it gently.
"Thank you Daddy"
Jeongin's breath hitched at the name, his grip tightening on your thigh. "You're welcome sweetheart" he replied, his voice rough. He kept driving, his hand occasionally tracing along your inner thigh, sending shivers up and down your spine.
After a few minutes, Jeongin turned the vibrations back up to the highest setting, a mischievous gleam in his eye. "We're almost there, sweetheart. Just hold on a little longer." He said, his tone cocky.
"Fuck!" you screamed, bringing your fist up to your hand, your lipstick smearing ever so slightly on your knuckles as you bit down on them, trying to contain your moans.
Jeongin chuckled, his eyes never leaving the road. "You're doing so well, sweetheart." He said, his hand squeezing your thigh once more. "But we're almost there, just a little more."
He knew he was testing your limits, but he was enjoying himself too much to stop.
"You promised" you gasped, your orgasm near approaching before he shut off the vibrator completely.
Jeongin chuckled, his hand rubbing your thigh. "I know, I know, sweetheart. I just couldn't help it. Seeing you so desperate and needy was too good to pass up."
He could feel the heat radiating off of you, your body desperate for release. But he kept driving, his smirk never leaving his face.
After what felt like an eternity, Jeongin finally pulled the car into the restaurant parking lot. He parked the car and turned to look at you, his eyes dark and hungry. He leaned forward, his lips ghosting over your ear. "Are you ready, sweet girl?" He whispered, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.
“Mhm” 
Jeongin chuckled, his hand slowly moving up your thigh. "Good girl."
He turned off the car and got out, walking over to your side. He opened the door and helped you out, his hand resting on the small of your back as he led you toward the restaurant.
As you walked inside, Jeongin leaned down to whisper in your ear again. "Remember, no moaning or drawing attention. Can you do that for me?” 
"Yes Innie" you whispered into his ear as the two of you saw the rest of the boys already sitting there.
Jeongin nodded, his hand squeezing your waist in reassurance. "Good girl."
The two of you approached the table, the other boys looking up as they saw you. "You two are late" Han scolded, a frown on his face.
"Only by five minutes, plus it isn't even my fault" you whined as you sat down, pointing at Innie who sat across from you.
"He was the one who stole my earring"
Jeongin let out a mock gasp, feigning innocence. "How dare you accuse me of such a thing? I would never" he said, pouting exaggeratedly.
The other boys rolled their eyes, not falling for Jeongin's act. "We all know it was you Jeongin" Changbin said, chuckling.
Jeongin feigned hurt, clutching his chest dramatically. "I was trying to be romantic! And it worked, didn't it?"
The other boys laughed again, shaking their heads. "Sure, Innie, sure." Lee Know said, a smirk playing on his lips.
You grinned at that, knowing the boys had a soft spot for you.
As they began to discuss their recent album release, you decided to have some fun, slowly slipping off one of your heels before running your foot along Innie's calf and slowly dragging it up higher and higher along his leg.
Jeongin's eyes widened slightly as he felt your foot against his calf. He tried to keep his face neutral, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of a reaction. But he could feel his body responding to your touch, his heart rate increasing.
He shifted in his seat, trying to get some space between your foot and his leg. But you just continued to tease him, moving higher and higher along his thigh.
"So Y/N" Chan had begun to speak, "How has your new job been, I know cyber security isn't an easy task"
Before you could even start speaking, Jeongin had turned the vibrator one once again.
You quickly coughed, trying to regain composure as the object buzzed inside of you before responding.
"It's been a bit hard to navigate, the guys on my team are a bit, how do I put this lightly, misogynistic. In the sense that they act like, I'm stupid whenever I try to speak up, but other than that it's been great”
The boys listened intently, Chan nodding his head understandingly. "That's tough." He said, empathy in his eyes.
Meanwhile, Jeongin was enjoying your little game. He sat back, watching you struggle to keep your composure as the vibrator was on. He could see the subtle shift in your body language, the slight twitch in your eye whenever the vibrations hit just right.
The boys listened intently, Chan nodding his head understandingly. "That's tough." He said, empathy in his eyes.
Meanwhile, Jeongin was enjoying your little game. He sat back, watching you struggle to keep your composure as the vibrator was on. He could see the subtle shift in your body language, the slight twitch in your eye whenever the vibrations hit just right.
Jeongin chuckled to himself, amused by the way you were trying so hard to keep your cool while the vibrator was going. He could see the slight flush in your cheeks, the way your hands were gripping the edge of the table.
He decided to take things up a notch, increasing the intensity of the vibrations. He watched as your eyes widened slightly, your body tensing up.
"But yeah, the pay makes it worth it." You said, your voice strained as Jeongin continued to increase the intensity of the vibrator. You tried to continue on with the conversation, but the pleasure was becoming too much to handle. You shifted in your seat, trying to find a position that would make the sensations less intense, but to no avail.
You tried to keep the conversation going, but your mind was slowly being taken over by the pleasure.
"You okay?" Seungmin looked at your flushed face, confused as to why you seemed all fidgety all of a sudden.
"Yeah, I've just not been feeling that great for the past couple of days, but I couldn't miss out on seeing you guys"
The boys nodded in understanding, their faces full of concern. "You should have said something, we could have easily rescheduled," Chan said, his eyes worried.
Meanwhile, Jeongin continued to play with the controls, turning the vibrator on and off at random intervals.
"It's okay Chan, I didn't want you guys to find another time in your busy schedule" you almost whimpered, but composed yourself.
"Plus, I think I just needed to get out of the house"
The boys nodded once again, their concern still present. But Jeongin's face had taken on a mischievous look. He could tell you were struggling to keep your composure. The others may have been fooled, but he knew exactly what was happening.
He turned the vibrator all the way up, watching as you struggled to contain a moan.
You tried to keep a neutral expression on your face as the intensity of the vibrations nearly sent you over the edge. You gritted your teeth, fighting to maintain control as Jeongin continued to play with the controls, increasing and decreasing the intensity at his will.
The boys were still talking, completely oblivious to what was happening underneath the table.
Changbin had ended up making a joke, causing everyone to burst out laughing, allowing you to let out a subtle moan, your body begging for relief.
Jeongin chuckled as he heard the moan that escaped your lips. He had a feeling you were going to make a sound sooner or later, but the boys didn't seem to notice, still caught up in their own conversation.
He continued to toy with the controls, turning up the intensity and watching as your body grew more and more restless.
You kicked Jeongin under the table, giving him your best puppy dog eyes to try and plead him to stop, your body so close to cumming that you didn't know if you could control it anymore, your brain slowly turning to mush.
Jeongin chuckled as you kicked him, his eyes dark with amusement. He saw the look of desperation on your face, the pleaded in your eyes. And to be honest, he was enjoying himself way too much to stop.
He leaned back in his chair, a cocky grin on his face. He continued to play with the controls of the vibrator, taking a sip of his drink as he watched you squirm.
"So, what is for dessert" Han questioned, his cheeks filled with the last bite of his food.
You hadn't even noticed that so much time had passed, the only thing your brain focused on was not to cum in front of some of your closest friends.
Before you could even try and respond, Jeongin spoke up. "I know exactly what I want" he smirked, looking directly at you.
"And what's that?" Han asked, oblivious to what he had just implied.
"Tiramisu Cake sounds delicious"
Jeongin knew exactly what he was doing, his comment laced with an undertone that only you and he understood. The others chuckled, thinking nothing of it.
Meanwhile, Jeongin continued to toy with the controls, watching as your body grew even more restless. He knew you were close to cumming, but he wasn't done with you yet.
The conversation continued, the boys discussing their favorite desserts. But you could barely focus on anything other than the intense vibrations pulsing through your body.
Jeongin watched your face, loving the way you struggled to maintain composure. He could tell you were close, and he was determined to push you over the edge. He continued to toy with the controls, increasing the intensity even further.
You shifted in your seat, your hands gripping the edge of the table. You were so close to the edge, the pleasure building and building with no release in sight.
The boys were still clueless as to what was unfolding underneath the table, continuing to chat and laugh amongst themselves. But Jeongin's eyes were locked on you, watching as your body trembled with the need for release.
He loved seeing you fall apart like this, the way you struggled to hold back your moans and gasps, the way your knuckles turned white as you gripped the table. He knew you were on the brink of your release, but he wasn't ready to give in just yet.
He increased the intensity even further, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Lee Know muttered, causing all the boys to look in your and Jeongin's direction.
"Keep this kinky shit at home, or else next time invite us" he groaned, throwing his head back as all the boys began to watch as you writhed since Jeongin decided it was a good idea to turn the vibrator on the highest setting.
"Yeah Innie, share your girl with your hyungs" Hyunjin grinned, pinching Innie's face before going back to watching how your body convulsed on the vibrator.
"Let it go baby" Chan whispered into your ear, slowly rubbing your arm and then thigh.
You ended up cumming right there, your eyes closed tight shut. Your body shaking ever so slightly. Your head pressed into Chan's shoulder as you began to moan ever so slightly in his ear.
"Fuck Innie" he growled, “you never told us she sounded this fucking sweet”
Jeongin smirked, watching the way your body convulsed under the impact of the vibrator. He loved seeing you lose control like this, knowing that he had the power to reduce you to a trembling mess.
The other boys were watching intently, their eyes fixed on your face as you came undone in front of them. Jeongin's smirk widened at their reactions. He knew they were enjoying the show.
Chan's whispered words in your ear caused a shiver to run down your spine. You could feel the heat radiating off his body as he rubbed your arm and thigh in a soothing motion.
The other boys continued to watch, their eyes darkened with desire. Hyunjin's voice broke the silence, his tone low and seductive. "Such a good girl, enjoying yourself so much. "
Jeongin's grin widened, loving the way the boys were reacting to your display. Your body was still trembling from the aftershocks of the orgasm, but Jeongin wasn't done with you yet.
He leaned forward, his breath hot against your ear. "Are you ready for more, sweetheart?" He asked, his voice dripping with mischievousness.
The boys watched intently, their eyes fixed on you and Jeongin. Chan's hand on your arm was still rubbing soothingly, trying to calm your trembling body.
"Enough, please" you whined, squirming next to Chan.
Jeongin chuckled, enjoying the way you were pleading for mercy. But he was having too much fun to stop now.
The boys watched as you squirmed and whined, their expressions a mix of amused and aroused. Chan's hand continued to rub your arm, but his eyes remained fixed on Jeongin's expression.
"You're so sweet when you beg, sweetheart" Jeongin purred in your ear, his hand reaching out to grab your chin, tipping your head back to look up at him.
The boys continued to watch, their eyes dark with desire as they watched Jeongin's hand on your chin, holding your face up to look at him. Chan's hand on your arm had stilled, but his grip tightened slightly as he watched the way Jeongin was handling you.
"But I don't think I'm quite done with you yet," Jeongin said, his voice dripping with mischief. He turned to look at the other boys, a sly grin on his face. "What do you think, guys? Should I give her a break? Or keep going?"
"Give her a break" Seungmin sighed, leaning back in his chair as he stared at you, a small smirk splayed on his lips. "She needs all the rest she can get before I play with her tomorrow"
"Isn't that what you said in the group chat Innie?" he chuckled as he looked at your furrowed brows.
"Did Innie not tell you pup? This was his plan all along"
Jeongin smirked, his hand still on your face. "That's right, I did tell them. I wanted them to know how well I'm taking care of you"
He glanced over at the other boys, a hint of pride in his eyes. They all chuckled, clearly amused by Jeongin's antics.
"But fine, I'll give her a break," Jeongin said, his hand finally releasing your chin.
The boys let out a collective sigh of relief, their eyes still fixed on you and Jeongin. Chan's hand on your arm had relaxed, his touch now gentle again.
Jeongin leaned back in his chair, a satisfied expression on his face. He had had his fun toying with you, and now it was time for him to bask in the aftermath.
The boys settled back into their chairs as well, continuing their previous conversation. But every now and then, their gazes would flick over to you, taking in your still trembling form.
“Tomorrow” he mouthed, grinning at the way your eyes brightened at the thought of his members fucking you. 
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 6 months ago
Note
Vash being flustered by compliments, acting like a total loser please? Lots of “Buwuhh?! uhhh I- That’s really kind of you to-” or him spilling his drink, stumbling on nothing and trying to laugh it off, moments would be extremely appreciated. 🙏♥️
Aweeee thanks for this request!
(note I wrote this with Tristamp Vash in mind)
...........
"You know..your laugh is adorable."
In an instant, Vash fell into silence, the tips of his ears turning a pinkish hue as he stared at you from across the table. With a drink in one hand, he shakily set it down--only to clumsily spilling small droplets onto the flat surface.
But he tried to play it cool by propping his elbow over the mess, smiling. "Ahaha..thanks. That's...actually very nice of you to say. Most people think my laughs are "evil", but-"
"Oh that's nonsense." You leaned over a bit, smirking as you could see the nervous sweat beginning to manifest along your partner's hairline. "That's because they don't know what genuine laughter is. One as joyous as yours is so hard to come by these days. You've been through a lot. Endured things that would easily kill a person's spirit. And here you are, still finding ways to laugh and smile and see the good in others."
"Well..I..I think I deserve to do that every once in a while."
"Of course you do. Your smiles are brighter than the damn sun...and your hair, for that matter. But all that kindness and hope? Your emphasis on "love and peace"? That's attractive."
Your wink is what nearly sent the Humanoid Typhoon over the edge, as he squeaked in surprise at your words, before noticing Meryl, Roberto, and Wolfwood at their own table, having a chat about the worms in the sand and sky...only for their gazes to land on him.
Knowing smirks appeared on their faces when they realized what was going on.
You were flustering the hell out of Vash.
It only made his growing blush worsen, and he sheepishly threw his hood over his head to hide it, turning back to you. "Th-They're watching us, you know.." He mumbled.
"So what? Let them watch. They already know how smitten you are over me, anyway." You chuckled and reached a hand out. His advanced prosthetic fingers instinctively reached back, intertwining their coldness with your warmth. "I love your arm, too. It's amazing, perfect...just like you, honey."
"Ah...! Thank you...h-honey. Haha.." At this point, he knew he lost the war..you were just too damn good at this. Pushing away your compliments was useless now, so he resolved to just covering his face with his free hand.
His heart was hammering uncontrollably, and for once in his life..it wasn't due to the adrenaline of fleeing from gun-totting bandits or cyborgs.
It was because of love.
The very thing he hoped to stand for.
Ever since getting together with Vash, and learning how hard he often was on himself..you made it your mission to let him know how much you adored him.
He was afraid you'd be scared off by the bounty on his head, or the fact he had to constantly be on the move...or that a whole town could turn on him at the drop of a hat....or that twin brother of his would find you two.
But you've made it clear time and time again that you weren't leaving his side no matter what, and by god you were sticking to that promise even when he attempted to push you away a few times before.
You'd go anywhere in No Man's Land, unless it wasn't with him.
The moment he realized you're in this for the long run, you helped him let his guard down a little, defending his name and trying to show him common traditions of human couples--or at least..whichever ones you could recreate on this planet.
Even when you weren't around him, people would ask what "horrors" you've faced during your encounters with the "terrifying" Vash the Stampede, imagining you barely escaping with your life while he smiles and laughs at the mass destruction and death that surrounds him..
But what they don't know (and probably never will) is that his smiles and laughs were simply the products of your endless ways of complimenting him...such as right now.
You had this man--who had the power to bring down an empire if he wanted to--stammering over his words, acting incredibly shy, and being unusually giggly. And he's barely touched a drop of liquor since your small group stopped in the bar for refuge from the desert heat.
Some of the patrons wondered how drunk he was to be acting the way he did, while others looked upon you two with fondness, now convinced that love may not be dead just yet.
As long as Vash was here, that will continue to exist, and you'll be there to show him that he's worthy of it, too.
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rubylovessharks · 5 months ago
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Hiiiii! I just stumbled across your blog and I’m in love. (Me rn-😍😍😍) Anywayssss, would you be willing to do some sfw/nsfw head-cannons for the seven demon brothers from obey me? If not all seven Asmo, Beel, Belfie, and Levi are my faves! Thanks so much in advance if you don’t want to do this I completely understand and my feelings won’t be hurt.
Please remember to drink plenty of water and get plenty of rest. With luv, Madzzz. 💜💜💜
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^^^^Btw this is me manifesting you see this^^^^
omgg ofc i can!! (try-) alsoo thanks for the whishes, staying healthy is super important, so you should too! :D <3 gn!mc x the demon bros ;) considering the fact that you havent specified the gender of the mc im doing gender natural if thats ok- ok! so! sfw and nsfw hcs!!
so sorry if this wont be what you were hoping :(
Lucifer
🩷sfw🩷
can we all agree that this guy when he gets drunk he becomes clingy af?
he just sends you a bunch of messages telling you to come over
and when you do come over he's just laying in bed there, eyes half closed and face red.
anyway you get the point. when Lucifer gets drunk he wants to cuddle you for a few good hours
drunk times aside- normally your actual dates are more active.
by which I mean either you two talk about random stuff or Lucifer takes you somewhere
❤️nsfw❤️
the only time I think Luci will be willing to get fucked is when he's drunk. but you do need his consent waaay beforehand. as you should irl too
other then that he doms all the time.
I feel like he'd be into bdsm
i kinda think he'll be into rope stuff. he seems like the type who'd want to tie you up, but also in a pretty way ;)
also spanking.
Mammon
🩷sfw🩷
the typa guy who'd give you gifts saying he "coincidently" found it(asifhewasntlookingforthebestthingtogiveyou) and the moment someone sees you with it and asks about it and you say that it's from your boyfriend he becomes the happiest ever <3
also is really into pda, like he won't admit it- but he NEEDS to hold your hand in public. how else will people know you are his???
Mams is also really into kisses. like any kisses really- forehead kisses, cheek kisses, hand kisses, nose kisses ANY KISSES
unfraternally he'll sometimes come to you to ask to borrow money.... but he'll get you back
with a kiss on the cheek and the possibility of taking your walking privilege...
❤️nsfw❤️
switch, leaning to sub
the last thing I said about your walking privilege is true. Mammon thinks he just needs to fuck you hard enough as payback for letting him borrow some money
and with the stamina he has, it's totally enough to fuck your brains out ;)
I think he's into cuffs, won't matter if it's on him or on you, but if they go on his hands it has to be roleplay
what roleplay? cop stuff :3
Mams acts as an inmate or robber who just got caught, and you as a cop who is arresting him or punishing him
kinky stuff ya know?
I feel like he'd be into getting his cock milked as you ride him for hours upon hours
maybe has a choking kink? towards him I mean- he's too scared to choke you to death.. but there is a possibility that he'll choke you when he fucks you out of jealousy
Leviathan
🩷sfw🩷
gaming dates <3
canonically Levi isn't really one to like going outside so it makes sense that he'd prefer to hang in his or your room (mostly in his)
it'll take him some time until he'll actually be comfortable to be all touchy and physical.
but i like to think that even then he'd be more simple and not all clingy
aquarium dates ♡ once in a while, when he's actually ready for the outside world
he finds aquarium dates to be a little bit fun once or twice a year
but yeah it's mostly just gaming dates and dates where you watch anime and such-
AND cosplay dates
mostly ruri cosplay dates, but still cosplay dates as a whole ♡
❤️nsfw❤️
like with physical touch it'll take him a long time until he'll be ready for sex
he'll be all blushy and, sorry, kinda sweaty when sex is mentioned.
he's just so not used to it :(
LEVI IS A SUB.
well switch technically- but he's more in the being fucked out of his mind position then the fucking you out of your mind position
but how do you get him in a domy mood? probably either by making him jealous, or in a more competitive mood.
what do i mean? well just egg him on, tell him that you can totally win this game round, and the next one, and the next one. well you gotta win for it to actually work- but still. the more you do it the more upset he is
it doesn't work all the time, but he has a bit of a competitive side ;)
he's a kinda kinky guy, he'd probs be into things like tons of praise but with a mix of humiliation (to both sides)
like if you were to tell him that he's been soo good for you and what he does is probably sit on the floor while his mouth and face is being used for you to get off
Satan
🩷sfw🩷
reading dates :D
can happen in his/your room, but can also happen out in a cat cafe or a park outside :3
and if you aren't a person who likes to read Satan is willing to read for you once in a while
you and him will definitely take in cats without Lucifer's agreement, you'll just keep them in Satan's room or your's and take care of them there.
you, him and Belphie are out to get Luci. and if it's just the two of you without Belphegor it feels like a date idea for Satan :p
from time to time you'll hear Satan talk on and on about different research stuff that he's into for the time being
and you'll tots be hearing this guy talk a lot about his detective books
❤️nsfw❤️
cockwarming while Satan reads.
is there more to say? like do ya'll need an explanation????
this is getting in a more kinky-noteverydaykinks territory but can we agree that Satan is into collars?
it just seems right idk. like it won't matter to him who's wearing it- he likes wearing them, and seeing them on his s/o
another switch, i mean i like to think that most of them are switches.. but like I'll still say it every time.
leaning into dom territory, but he won't mind being fucked into oblivion
angry sex. who knows what might've started it but if he needs to take out his anger on something your hole will be number 1 (ofc he you say you dont want to he wont- everything is consensual)
also into roleplay stuff, probs petplay. kinky stuff
Asmodeus
🩷sfw🩷
first thing I'm going to say is painting nails dates. spa dates. any beauty care dates will happen.
and you can't escape it :)
he WILL post you on any of his social medias with captions that say things like "look at my lover ♡ aren't they the cutest!?" :3
I think Asmo will be the type of person who'd like to get gifts as a receiving love language, and as a giving love language it'll be physical touch
i feel like as a whole he likes being physical, I mean have you seen this guy?? but I think he feels more special when you buy or make him gifts <3
❤️nsfw❤️
THE KINKIEST GUY EVER
like he literally is the avatar of lust. like doesn't that make him kinky enough??????
switch and it's literally is 50/50 with sub and dom with him
toys. toys all the way. when he doms he uses toys, when he subs he uses toys. toys are something he really likes
of course there will be times when he doesn't want to use them and really get more lovey dovey ♡
during sex you two may switch between sub and dom at least once.
Beelzebub
🩷sfw🩷
shares with you anything he wants to eat ♡
it'll probably be half eaten if he already has his hands on it but he tries his best to control himself so you'd at least have even the smallest of bites <3
he sometimes accidentally bites you, like not super hard and painful but there are times it leaves a mark-
can and will give you piggyback rides if you ask him
when you two go to a restaurant and in typical Beelzebub fashion he eats too much and the bill is huge he'll tell you he'll be the one paying, even for your share.
COOKING DATES!!!!!!!!
sure he might eat half of the ingredients- but he'll try his best to not eat it all so you two can have a finished product ♡
❤️nsfw❤️
I know everyone says this but it's true. this guy eats you out like a pro.
and it doesn't matter if you have a pussy, a cock or anything else- it doesn't matter. he knows how to put his mouth to good use. and he can go FOR HOURS and not get tired. it's like his favorite thing♡
we all know this man is packing. probably has the biggest dick of them all(maybe diavolo's is bigger who wants to help me measure :))
and he's so sweet when you try to take him ♡ ♡ ♡
he'll tell you things like "You can do it" "I know..it is pretty big...but you took it before!" with such a sweet smile you know he says this not to make fun of you, but because he actually thinks you can take his huge cock ♡
Beel will proooobably lose control and kinda start fucking you like an animal in heat after a few while of fucking
but after that he does such nice aftercare!
Belphegor
🩷sfw🩷
naps all the way :3
you are the pillow. you can't say anything but yes.
I like to think that he has dreams about you, and if he dreams of something that he's actually willing to do in real life he'll ask you if you'd like to do it :D
when you two do go out he likes to hold your hand, for more then just pda. he might fall asleep while standing and walking from time to time, so you can notice if he fell asleep or not.
do you know what I think you two might do? go to bed stores and try out the beds :3
❤️nsfw❤️
sadistic fuck. (affectionate)
he's a dom, even when he's half asleep.
I think he'd kinda tell you to ride him even when it looks like he's about to fall asleep, and the moment you stop he's immediately awake telling you to continue
will degrade you, like he's real mean
he does like the idea of chocking you but ya know.. might take a while....probs a few years-
well anything too dangerous will take a few years until he feels like he can actually do anything to you..
he's into anything that can and will humiliate you
he'd be into somnophilia but towards himself
maybe towards you? with consent ofc but mostly towards himself
why? cuz he can and will fall asleep during sex. and if it's something like you riding him he'd be totally fine with you still going even when he falls asleep.
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anim-ttrpgs · 24 days ago
Note
Eureka is an absolute masterpiece of a ttrpg with so much thought and care put into it. I really can't say enough good things about it. I do want to know if you have made/plan to make any other ttrpgs? I would love to see more genres besides supernatural urban mystery from you because of how quality your work is (but it's completely understandable if you have no plans to do other things).
Thank you! It’s taken us years to refine Eureka’s rules to this level of polish, and I do think it shows! A warning to all other aspiring TTRPG designers, though, don’t make your first project something this big! Keep it short! Not “one page rules” type of short, but don’t be like us and make your first real project a full-on trad TTRPG with this many different moving parts.
If you have aspirations to make something as crunchy and fleshed-out as Eureka, maybe try to execute the concept in a more simpler “OSR” style, and then after you’ve gotten more experience under your belt, maybe made some money and/or gotten a team together, then maybe try that concept again with more crunch. Call it “Advanced [Your Earlier Game Title]”
As for the future of A.N.I.M., we are planning to continually release adventure modules for Eureka, and probably also add-ons like extra Traits, Monster Traits, etc. I would love to include some playable monsters from cultures outside “the west” too, but I wouldn’t want to half-ass them, I’d want to give them as much research, attention detail and themes, etc. that I’ve given to all the other monsters. That’s just a lot harder when the best sources aren’t always in English.
Speaking of shorter games, I already wrote a little tiny game on the side called Edge Hedge Arena.
This is a game where you google “[Your Name] the Hedgehog”, choose one of the many Sonic OCs that are likely to come up, then give them stats and battle them against those of other players using the rules provided.
Since I basically have no more rules to write for Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy and I’m mostly just waiting for other members of the team to finish working on their parts, I’ve partially moved on to working on A.N.I.M.’s next big game, too!
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We’ve learned our lesson, it’s not going to be anywhere near the page count or crunch level of Eureka, even though you know I love crunchy games. Well, actually, it’s probably only slightly less crunchy than Eureka, but it’s about much more specific scenarios, so it’ll still overall have less mechanics. The scope is much smaller.
This is a dark comedy/satire game that kind of takes the Forgotten Realms “evil sexy matriarchal bdsm slavery society ruled by warriors who fight in lingerie” dark elf concept and asks the question of “What kind of society and circumstances would actually produce this?” (Though it doesn’t actually take place in Forgotten Realms or any other D&D setting)
And then makes the comparison to 20th and 21st century American capitalism. “No, these aren’t slaves, they aren’t chained up and are allowed to leave any time they want. But they only get food so long as they keep working, and if they disobey then can get beaten.” It started out as a joke, but we are probably going to add "media literacy" to the list of requirements alongside dice and stuff hahaha, like, the ability to understand that the world of this game is not supposed to represent the author's idea of a perfect society. We might add that to Eureka too.
Silk&Dagger is about class, gender roles, different ways that forced labor can manifest in a society, and most importantly surviving all of those things.
Going forward to understand what I’m saying you have to know that in this setting, “Drow” is a title, referring to the ruling warrior caste. Most Drow are dark elves, but not all dark elves are Drow. This society is structured a bit like ancient Sparta, with a very small ruling caste of warriors, and a very large servant caste. Social mobility between these castes is possible, but rather than getting into it in detail and making this post super long, let’s just say that many servants consider themselves temporarily embarrassed Drow.
A typical “party” in Silk&Dagger is will consist of one Drow PC and any number of servant PCs working for her. There are regular chores that need to be done around the palace, which provide challenges, but scenarios will also throw major issues into the mix.
A Drow’s Reputation is everything, if the Drow PC’s Reputation stat reaches 0, that is the failure state for the entire party, because it basically means no more food. (Even the servants, for lore reasons that I also won’t get into)
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So a typical scenario will be like “Somebody very important is coming to visit, but the lower floor of the palace is starting to flood for an unknown reason.” We’re going to have multi-part tables where you can randomly generate these, but we will also have more in-depth adventure modules for it in the future.
We ran a playtest the other day basically based on this scenario. The intended comedy of the game really came out as we kept switching perspectives, with the Drow upstairs having to constantly come up with new ways to impress her guests and explain away that splashing sound while the servant worked down below trying to find and plug the leak.
So, the PCs will have to deal with all that while also making sure that all the chores get done, and the kicker is, they can’t easily communicate with each other. The massive gulf between the two castes is the real enemy here, along with the behavioral expectations placed on each.
They could’ve gotten a head start on dealing with the flooding if the servant had had permission to speak earlier and could’ve told the Drow that the lower floor is flooding, but
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There’s a big list of behaviors that a servant has to fulfill when interacting with a Drow, which are basically designed to be impossible to follow and just get them in trouble, and a Drow who doesn’t strictly enforce this etiquette risks losing Reputation for it.
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On the other side, Drow also have to constantly embody a list of six features, which basically means acting as evil as possible, their Reputation depends on it.
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One other unique feature of Silk&Dagger is that it is a two-GM game. One GM does most of the normal GM stuff, while the other GM represents the ever-present societal expectations weighing on all the characters, subtracting Reputation points and important things every time the PCs do something that makes them look bad in the eyes of this society.
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There may come times where PCs will just have to take the hit to get things done, or find clever ways to make it look like they’re upholding the status quo while secretly treating each other like equals when nobody’s looking.
You can expect, like, an alpha or beta version of this game to come to the patreon in probably January or February, and maybe even itchio if it is far along enough by then. It was actually supposed to be out on the patreon in December, but some personal issues and illnesses really held it up. I am really going to try and make it less than 200 pages.
I'll end the post with one of my favorite little bits from the setting/lore. One of the reasons that Drow dress like that is because it helps them identify each other by thermal vision in the pitch black tunnels. Unique patterns of covered and uncovered skin serve as a sort of personal heraldry.
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Elegantly designed and thoroughly playtested, Eureka represents the culmination of three years of near-daily work from our team, as well as a lot of our own money. If you’re just now reading this and learning about Eureka for the first time, you missed the crowdfunding window unfortunately, but you can still check out the public beta on itch.io to learn more about what Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy actually is, as that is where we have all the fancy art assets, the animated trailer, links to video reviews by podcasts and youtubers, etc.!
You can also follow updates on our Kickstarter page where we post regular updates on the status of our progress finishing the game and getting it ready for final release.
Beta Copies through the Patreon
If you want more, you can download regularly updated playable beta versions of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy earlier, plus extra content such as adventure modules by subscribing to our Patreon at the $5 tier or higher. Subscribing to our patreon also grants you access to our patreon discord server where you can talk to us directly and offer valuable feedback on our progress and projects.
The A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club
If you would like to meet the A.N.I.M. team and even have a chance to play Eureka with us, you can join the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club discord server. It’s also just a great place to talk and discuss TTRPGs, so there is no schedule obligation, but the main purpose of it is to nominate, vote on, then read, discuss, and play different indie TTRPGs. We put playgroups together based on scheduling compatibility, so it’s all extremely flexible. This is a free discord server, separate from our patreon exclusive one. https://discord.gg/7jdP8FBPes
Other Stuff
We also have a ko-fi and merchandise if you just wanna give us more money for any reason.
We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.
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mm-lurking · 11 months ago
Text
Why do you care? - Blade
Perhaps you should have thought twice before deciding to take on a powerful enemy at night or perhaps you shouldn’t have, if it means you get a certain someone to care about you.
I wrote this at 11 pm sleep deprived and out of my mind for like many nights straight please forgive me in advance for the grammar etc English is like my 4th language thank you WC: 3440 words Warnings: none just angst, fluff, some description of blood and wounds and me being a simp —
Your blade clashes with the Antimatter Legion creature’s weapon continuously leaving no room for you to think or even plan an escape. With each strike you find yourself feeling weaker and wobbly, as if the enemy were quite literally taking your strength away. The large wound on your back stings and burns and you can feel blood dripping down your ripped shirt, soaking into your pants and splattering on the floor. If it weren’t for the stupid enemy ambushing you and leaving you with a slash on your back, you would have already beaten the crap out of it and gone home for a good night’s sleep.
But no, here you were struggling even to cause reasonable damage that allowed you to deliver the final blow or at least escape. Your movements were getting more fast-paced and aggressive out of frustration which caught the enemy off guard. When will this end?!? With one last ounce of energy you had left in you, you gritted your teeth and struck the creature in the chest, delivering a reasonable blow and causing it to retreat.
“Ha…huff…”
The adrenaline from the fight started to wear out and it didn’t take long before you fell on your hands and knees, clutching your shirt and trying to breathe. You did not have the energy to sit upright, let alone walk back to your residence. Unfortunately for you, the loss of blood caught on quickly. Before you could even formulate a plan your body gave way and you went crashing on the stone pavement head first, with the wound on your back feeling more uncomfortable as the cold winds of the night caressed your back. That’s all you remembered before everything turned black.
- How tardy, Blade tsked as he leaned against the front wall of your residence, waiting impatiently by the door. He had checked the time thrice already in the past ten minutes. As requested by Kafka, you were supposed to meet him at your residence to discuss some business. Why the hell did Kafka choose me for this? he thought to himself, what a waste of my time to associate with someone like her. Yet, despite his annoyance he still waited and waited until his frustration got the better of him.
Glaring at your front door, he walked off. He would let Kafka know later that you weren’t there for whatever reason and ask her to stop sending him to you every time. For some reason no matter how many times he told Kafka he didn’t want to see you, she would still find a way to send him to you. Was it because of some sort of mutual agreement between you and Kafka? Who knows. He didn’t care and nor did he want to. He just wanted to be left alone.
The path he took back home required him to cross the very street you were unconscious on. Of course, he didn’t know that. Blade was walking at his usual pace when he spotted a figure in the distance in the middle of the street, one that looked awfully similar to yours. He tsked again and shook his head. I must be seeing things. Yet as he continued walking, this lingering feeling he had about you continued to pester him and fully manifested when he approached the figure and realised-
“…!”
-it was you. His eyes widened momentarily and his breath hitched as he examined your state, trying to make sense of what had happened to you. There was blood everywhere around you; pools of it that were semi-dried and half-fresh. Your hair was all over the place with most of it soaked in blood from your injuries. And that gash on your back; the way your flesh was practically visible all the way down to the innermost layers of your muscle, the bruises that had started to form around your wound, the scratches and marks on your hands and arms, all of it, every single inch of your injury caused unfamiliar emotions to stir in his heart. It made his blood boil stronger and stronger. In a split second, he knelt by your side, uncaring how your blood soaked into his pants or how he was dirtying his clothes from the pavement dirt.
He gently flipped you over and the sight of your pale face made his heart drop for a moment. There was no sign of life on your face, you looked concerningly peaceful and your forehead had bruised from crashing into the pavement. If it weren't for more fresh blood gushing down his fingers from holding your back, he would have thought he lost you. Blade was no stranger to injuries and wounds. Blood and bruises were a normal day occurrence to him, they were his companion through this cursed immortal life of his. Yet, when it came to you, seeing you in such a state scared him, an emotion he seldom felt. He didn’t care if he was the one to get hurt but if it was you, he couldn’t stand it. He wouldn’t stand it.
Not wanting to waste any more time, he carefully put his arms behind your knees and neck to avoid touching your back before picking you up and walking hastily to the hideout the Stelleron hunters were residing in. Was he a wanted criminal? Yes, but he didn’t care. All that mattered right now was you and your well-being. The door opened with a loud bang and he walked in holding your limp body, his eyes searching everywhere to find a suitable location to tend to your injuries.
“Bladie there you are. How was-”
Kafka stopped talking mid-speech as she noticed Blade and the distressed condition he was in. She stared at the familiar body he was holding and remained speechless before running off to get medical supplies they had lying around for Blade’s mara-struck symptoms. He quickly laid you on your side in his lap and proceeded to build a makeshift bed using blankets and pillows so he could finally tend to your injuries. Kafka returned with supplies in her hands, still confused and flabbergasted at what had occurred and why Blade cared in the first place.
“What happened to her?”
“...”
He said nothing and immediately started to perform first-aid, first gently pushing the torn shirt off your back and brushing your hair aside. Despite his hands being gloved and bandaged, he felt tingles in his fingers as he grazed your skin. Destruction was what he was skilled at yet the way he handled you was gentle and soft, afraid that he would hurt you, as if you were made out of porcelain. He worked skillfully and swiftly on your gash, cleaning and stitching it all up to the best of his abilities before turning to the smaller injuries you had on your arms. By the time he was done with just your back, the moon shone at the highest point of the sky, indicating how long it had taken for him.
But he didn’t care as he looked out the window and then back at you. The moonlight basked your figure in a gentle glow and he found his heart oddly skipping a beat as he stared. Your weak breathing was enough to console him, enough to let him know you were at least alive. Subconsciously he found himself reaching out to caress your cheek, softly tracing over your skin as he watched you for a moment. What was it about you that he couldn’t get enough of? Why was he so persistent in pushing you away while simultaneously wanting your company? Why did he-
“I will call one of her friends over tomorrow to take her to the nearest infirmary.”
Kafka voiced out breaking his line of thoughts. He quickly retracted his fingers and cleared his throat as he worked on your forehead bruise. The woman chuckled and shook her head, smiling slightly. Was this all part of Elio’s plan? Who knows.
“She should be awake in the morning.”
He stated calmly but the burning gaze in his eyes betrayed him. Judging by the severity of your wounds, he wasn’t even sure if you would make it out the night. Kafka said nothing and silence fell once again.
“You should rest Bladie.”
“No need.”
“I can look after her.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
The woman smiled once again and shook her head.
“Alright if you say so. If you need me I will be in the other room. Silverwolf has brought back some interesting information for me to sift through.”
She waved her hand around and left the room leaving Blade alone with you. As he finished putting the last bandage on you, he pulled you closer on his lap, gently placing an arm on your waist to keep you from slipping before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.
The image of you lying in your own blood flashed through his head again and his eyebrows furrowed. What if he had never come to save you? What if he had left through some other street and never saw you? The idea of him not seeing you alive again tomorrow, the idea of you no longer coming to meet with Kafka, the idea of you no longer looking in his direction…all of it caused a pang in his heart. It was a strange sensation that he didn’t understand and a feeling he couldn’t quite fathom. The grip on your waist tightened as opened his eyes to look at you. You looked so peaceful and content, almost like you hadn’t been gravely injured at all, like you hadn’t nearly bled to death.
As much as he wanted to remain in this position and watch over you, he had to get medicine for your injuries. He reluctantly placed you on the makeshift bed and placed pillows around to prop you up before getting up to go find some.
A wave of sharp pain surges through your body prompting your consciousness to start awakening. The pain combined with your tired body creates an uncomfortable feeling in you and with each ripple of pain, you find yourself awakening slowly but surely, like a diver trying to reach the water’s surface to break out. 
“Hngh…”
A groan slips out from your mouth as you slowly open your eyes. As you adjust to your surroundings in confusion, the pain of your back wound comes back in full effect causing you to cry out loud. It burns, stings and aches all at once and the threshold is way beyond your bearable pain level. You try to move around but no position eases your suffering and so ultimately you try to sit upright, struggling as tears run down your face. Footsteps quickly approach you and before you can wrap your head around who it is, the figure hurriedly sits down with a bottle in his hand, concern written all over his face as he tries to get you to lie down.
“Bl-blade?”
You say through your tears, choking as you struggle to breathe. You refuse to lay down and uncomfortably shuffle around trying to even get an ounce of relief. Your mind is blurry and confused as you attempt to recall what had happened and what is currently going on.
“You’re hurt.”
He watches as you stare at him through the tears in your eyes and something about that causes those unfamiliar emotions from earlier to stir in his heart again. You shake your head groaning and seething in pain as you attempt to talk.
“Why are you- what-“
“Drink.”
He doesn’t give you an answer and instead supports your neck with one hand as he brings the bottle closer to your face with his other one. You scrunch your face and move away which causes him to frown.
“Foolish. You’re injured. Drink it unless you want to continue withering in pain.”
His voice is sharp and low which causes you to flinch and agree to his request. He brings the bottle up to your lips and you look at him as you take sips. To his surprise, you don’t hesitate to drink down the bitter herbal medicine and finish it in one go. The concoction seems to take immediate effect and you sigh from having temporary relief.
You look back at the man who's holding you up. The tears on your cheeks have dried and you notice he’s still looking at you. There is no emotion on his face yet somehow you can tell he’s concerned and watching out for anything that might happen.
“Blade…why…why do you care?”
There is a small smile on your weary face as you speak. You’re delirious, he notes, seeing how your eyes keep shutting close and how your body seems unable to support itself up. He doesn’t reply to you as usual and stares at you silently.
“I know you hate me…you don’t even like being around me, I know you hate meeting me, if it weren’t for Kafka you wouldn’t even look in my direction…”
You close your eyes and look down as you feel the tears starting to form and run down your face again. At this rate you weren’t sure what was hurting more, the gash on your back or the pain in your heart. You were spilling everything that had been on your mind since the beginning of it all when you first started falling for him. On a normal day, you would never speak your thoughts out like this but nothing about today was normal, was it? What you don’t notice is the tiny frown that has formed on Blade’s face as you speak. You draw a shaky breath as you continue.
“Why did you save me…? You should have left me alone…at least that way you would never see me again and that would make you happy I know-“
“I suggest you shut it.”
You look up as he cuts you off. There is a strange expression on his face consisting of annoyance and anger. He grits his teeth as he holds himself back from saying more. But you being you, you shake your head and continue, the tears now splattering on the blankets lying on the floor as your emotions come out in full force.
“Where are we? Is Kafka here...? I can let her know that she no longer needs to send you to meet me…I’m sure she will understand-“
“I said shut it.”
His voice drops down an octave and you feel fear creep up your spine. Afraid, you drop your head again but you can guess that his crimson eyes are probably aflame right now based on your previous observations. Do you listen? No.
“You don’t have to do this…if Kafka is making you do this you can go now it’s ok-“
“Have you always been this insufferable?!”
The sharpness in his voice and the tightening grip on your neck make you flinch in fear. He quickly lets go when he realises he’s hurting you and exhales. You remain staring at the ground, afraid to look up at his face. Unfortunately, before you can reply to him, the gash on your back starts to hurt again and you tremble, frowning as the pain sharpens.
“What’s wrong?”
There is a hint of panic in his voice as you squirm. Your knuckles turn white from the way you hold onto the blanket and your arms feel weak. Everything turns hazy again and nausea kicks in. A dull throb starts to pound in your head causing a groan to slip from your mouth.
“Y/N.”
He calls your name out as he gently lifts your chin. His frown deepens seeing the pain all over your face. Beads of cold sweat form on the side of your forehead and he notices you’re struggling to breathe again.
“It hurts Blade…it hurts…”
You say softly as your eyes blur again. The endless tears you have shed today in front of him shatter his heart. With each tear that streams down your face, he finds himself in agony, wishing it was him that was hurting instead, wishing that the pain you were dealing with were his to bear. But no, there is nothing he can do except watch you wither from your wounds. He reaches out to cup your face, slowly wiping the tears away with one hand while the other supports your shoulder. You shiver a little from the contact nevertheless welcome it. His touch is unfamiliar yet so soothing on your bare skin.
“Did the medicine wear off?”
You slowly nod yes and he sighs. Your injuries are severe after all, no wonder the concoction didn’t last long. It is a miracle that you are still breathing and conscious after such an event. He looks behind you at the faint glimmers of moonlight. Judging by the dimming rays, it should be dawn soon, he notes.
“Bear it for a little longer, Kafka will have a friend of yours escort you to a nearby infirmary soon.”
To his surprise, you shake your head and lean into the palm of his hand. He freezes momentarily but doesn’t push you away.
“I..remain with me..a little longer..please..?”
Your voice is shaky and barely audible as you make your request. Your puffy eyes flutter close preventing you from seeing how his expression softens a bit and the small smile that forms on his face. He gently pushes you towards him, causing you to lean into his body. You don’t deny the silent invitation and rest your head in the crook of his neck, a tiny smile forming on your face as you inhale his sweet metallic scent. His heartbeat is irregular and louder than usual from how your breath tickles his neck but you are too lightheaded to notice. His hand now rests at the base of your head while the other one lies loosely on your waist, gently caressing you in an attempt to ease your pain. You still squirm and twitch every now and then but it does not bother him, for right now all he cares about making you feel as comfortable as possible.
“I don’t hate you.”
He mutters under his breath. You’re barely conscious so he can say whatever he wants right? Not that you will really remember any of this.
“Hate…is not a word I would use on you.”
He glances at you. Your back rises and falls slowly from your breathing. He takes a look at your injured back once again and clenches his jaw. The bandages he had wrapped around you were starting to become bloody again.
“You perplex me. Yet your outlandish behaviour is so amusing. I cannot stay away from you.”
The fingers around your waist tighten as his grip becomes more firm. You shudder a bit at his action but say nothing. Not that you are in your right mind anyway, everything he says feels like a fever dream, a faraway voice talking to you.
“I prefer having you around. Your company delights me.”
He continues on as he strokes the back of your neck and you hum in content. You fit so perfectly against the palm of his hands and the crook of his neck, almost as if you were meant to be his. Meant to be his companion.
“You asked why I care…I care because I want you around.”
He leans into your head making sure to avoid the bruise on your forehead. Your hair tickles his face and the faint scent of your shampoo pleasantly occupies his senses. You’ve managed to fall asleep now from the low rumbling of his voice and the warmth his body radiates. A quiet chuckle leaves his lips as he realises this and the unyielding grip he has on you doubles.
“If you were to get hurt again…”
He murmurs inaudibly as he gazes in the distance. No, he would never allow you to be hurt again. He wouldn’t let such an opportunity arise in the first place. And if some lowly fool even dared to lay their hands on you…they would be a dead man walking. Once you got better and your wounds healed completely, he would make sure to protect you from any harm to the best of his abilities. But for now…
He looks at you again, his eyes burning with concern and a tinge of malevolence. No one could take you away from him. When the time was right and he was certain, he would make you his. For now, you resting contently in his arms, breathing softly in the safety of his protection should suffice. ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ©mm-lurking 2024 do not copy, steal or reuse my work.
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fairyminnie444 · 2 months ago
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✨ the ultimate post u need to LET GO ✨
ok so what we KNOW and has already entered our heads:
i want it so I got it
circumstances DOES NOT matter
there’s no time to wait, it’s ALREADY done
“feeling is the secret” Neville Goddard
So why do we keep scrolling through tumblr, reddit, twitter to read more posts thinking that we will always find something more?
Because we are seeking reassurance, we might be subconsciously looking for validation or “proof” that your manifestation techniques are working or that you’re on the right path.
Each new post feels like it might hold the missing piece of the puzzle, even though you already have everything you need within you.
But the more you consume, the more your mind becomes overwhelmed, making it harder to trust your own intuition. Instead of clarity, constant scrolling can increase doubts and make you second-guess what you already know.
LETS BREAK THE CYCLE 🔁 ❎
✨ Set a Limit ✨
Give yourself a specific time frame for scrolling (e.g., 15 minutes). Once the time is up, redirect your focus to practices like visualization or affirmations or anything that make you FEEL your desire.
✨ Create Instead of Consume ✨
Shift your energy from seeking external input to producing something meaningful:
Write about what you already know (like I’m doing rn), If you don't want to post it just save it in your notes, draw it, make your vision board in Canva, etc.
LET IT GO, ITS DONE ✅
✨ Understand What “Letting Go” Means ✨
It doesn’t mean giving up on the desire, but rather stopping fighting the idea that it hasn’t arrived yet.
It’s trusting that the desire is already yours in 4D and that it will manifest in 3D, DEFINITELY. The world is a MIRROR of you inside.
✨ Strengthen Your Certainty ✨
Repeat to yourself:
“My desire is already mine, it is done.”
“I trust completely in the universe and my power.”
This trust helps you let go of control and stop looking for external evidence.
✨ Practice the Feeling of Already Having ✨
Close your eyes and imagine life as if the desire were already a reality.
Feel the joy, relief, and ease of already living it.
When you feel that you already have it, there is no need to “hold on” to the desire.
✨ Redirect Your Focus ✨
Instead of thinking about how or when, focus on living your life lightly.
Engage in hobbies, relax, enjoy the present, and trust that everything is moving in your favor.
✨ Observe Your Thoughts Without Attachment ✨
When thoughts like “what if it doesn’t happen?” arise, acknowledge them without holding on to them:
Say to yourself: “I see that thought, but I know it’s not true.”
✨ Trust the Intelligence of the Universe ✨
Remember: you don’t need to know how things will happen. The universe (or your subconscious mind) is already orchestrating everything to deliver you the best possible way.
Affirm: “Everything is always working out perfectly for me.”
✨ Gratitude in Advance ✨
Be grateful as if you already have the desire. Gratitude is a powerful way to let go:
“I’m so grateful that this is already mine. Thank you, universe.”
Letting go is a conscious choice to trust the process, because you already know it is yours. It is not about “forgetting” about the desire, but about stopping worrying about it. Live your life as if everything is already resolved, and the universe will mirror this certainty in your 3D.
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tihgnari · 6 months ago
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ꕤ 53. keep things lowkey (ღ)
tw: none / wc: 1.3k
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only when ayato reached across the limousine's rear cup holder to interlace his fingers with yours did you realize you've been practicing yet again a bad habit of yours — your nervousness manifesting by how you pick at your nails.
ayato chuckles, glancing at you. "love, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. i'll be there with you at all times, i promise — i just hope you don't get bored over business talk, if you do, well… i'd like to apologize in advance."
"it's just…" you mutter under your breath, looking out the window. "other than this is going to be my first gala, you're this important person, and i'm just nervous i might do something to embarrass you."
he squeezes your hand, urging you to look at him. "are you kidding? you? embarrass me? have you met yourself?"
you laugh, blushing at the eye contact. crazy how he can still erupt such butterflies in your stomach when a year has already passed of being together. you knew what you were getting yourself into, so ayato finally breaking the news to the public weeks ago was something that didn't faze you at all. however, today's the day you see if you'll truly fit into his world.
you bring his hand to your lips.
"just afraid of not fitting in."
the light turns green, and the car makes its final left turn and you immediately see the backs of the paparazzi grouped before a red carpet, in front of the monumental architecture of today's venue, leeum museum of art. you already imagine yourself standing before them, the flash of the cameras burning your retinas as you stand with your arm looped around ayato's.
this is it. this is the life you accepted when ayato finally asked you to become his. while he offered that you need not make appearances if it doesn't suit your comfort, you disagreed and said you were willing to go through the criticizing eyes of the public if it meant you can show up for him loudly and proudly.
but of course… first day jitters are a thing.
ayato pulls up but before he opens the doors, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead.
"just be yourself, my love. i love you because of who you are and i am every bit confident they will love you just the same. if there's some who thinks otherwise, well…" he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, smiling his sweetest smile. "you memorize their face, what they're wearing, and you tell me. no one disrespects you in my gala."
the night was running smoothly thus far, exchanging numerous handshakes with business owners who approached ayato. when some do not, you notice the way ayato's brow would raise before introducing you properly as his lover, only then did their eyes land on you and promptly offer a handshake, muttering a few apologies for not noticing you.
your boyfriend huffs, as you fix his tie in the side, eyeing the last man who initially didn't bother to greet you. "where are the manners of some of these people? they should know how to address a lady when they see one."
"my love, please… let it go, it's okay he still greeted me anyway!"
"only because i introduced you," he shakes his hand. "you are not some eye candy dangling off my arm! they can't ignore you. you deserve to be addressed just as properly as they address me."
you click your tongue playfully, cupping his face and softly urging him to look at you. his hardened gaze softens when he meets your eyes. for a moment, you don't say anything, and you visibly see the tension ease off his shoulders. he turns his head to nose at the palm of your hand, offering a light kiss.
"okay, i'm calm."
"thank you."
the dj increases the volume of the music just as she changed it from light house music to a more romantic one, perfect for a dance. the lights dimmed, people standing to the side as a circle forms, men and women alike already asking their wives or lovers to dance.
ayato steps back with a flare before bowing to you, offering his hand. "my lady, would you be so kind as to allow this lowly gentleman to grace the dance floor with you?"
you laugh, before casually starting to play along. "but of course, i shall dance with thee!"
he pulls you along, his hand tucked in the small of your back as you slow dance and suddenly it's just the two of you in an empty museum. "so…" he trails, a hint of a contented smile on his. "how was your first gala, my love?"
"well… i guess it was everything that i expected?" you laugh. "the crowd, the business talk, champagne… now i'm feeling kinda stupid i was nervous to begin with, everyone has been nothing but lovely."
ayato pulls you closer, burying his nose in your hair. "well, i am a good judge of character — minus the few who initially ignored you when they spoke to me," you pulled away, narrowing your eyes at him as he laughed and shook his head, moving on quickly. "okaaaay, i was just kidding… maybe. but i'm glad everything went smoothly, my love."
a moment of silence dawns on you both as you find a comfortable nook on his neck, him resting his cheek against your hair as he secures his hold around your waist, feeling so comfortable and at peace in each other's arms as you both sway to the music.
"can't believe we've come this far," he mutters. "who would've thought the girl drinking gin at kappa sig is the one for me."
"wait a minute," you pull away, looking at him with eyes wide in shock. "you knew it was me?"
"of course, i'm not the type to forget things when i get drunk," he laughs, amused by the face you're making. "i was a little hurt when you pretended not to recognize me at my apartment, but i gave it some thought and realized how the hell we would've explained to ayaka how we met? so i just went with it."
you shrug, burying your face in his neck in shame. "this is embarrassing, i thought you didn't know it was me — ugh, what the hell — i'm sorry i said all those stuff before pressuring you to kiss me —"
you feel the vibrations in his shoulders. "love, what? you didn't kiss me."
your shame hits the pause button and you look up at him questioningly. "what? we didn't kiss?"
"no, of course not! you were drunk, you wouldn't be in the right state of mind to give your consent… even though you told me i didn't look like i was 'kamisato material' and assuming that i was a bad kisser…"
"don't even —!"
he laughs, loud enough that a few couples dancing turned their heads and you hit his shoulder. when his laugh mellows and he looks at you, he mutters. "you know, i wouldn't change a thing in our storyline. sure, we hit rock bottom a few times, but it's our story."
you don't know why when you look him in the eyes, it feels like seeing him for the first time — free of any restraints from third parties asking you both not to be together.
you crack a small smile. "i'm not proud of the things i did to you but i am beyond thankful that even then, even after everything — we're here, together. makes me think 'maybe we were meant to be' you know?"
"i think so, too." ayato mirrors your smile. "i'm glad you don't have to keep your feelings all… lowkey, anymore. i see how loudly you love me, and it's all i ever wanted."
you laugh, sneaking a kiss on his lips.
"never wanted to keep things lowkey, anyway."
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LOWKEY » previous : masterlist
a kamisato ayato social media au
summary — it was only recently you found out kamisato ayaka was, in fact, not an only child after all! seeing ayato for the first time gave you the severest case of the butterflies but according to ayaka, he’s off limits, especially to you as her most treasured friend. well, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt, right?
note — aaaand thats a wrap! if you made it this far, ur an awesome hooman being hehe thank you so much for reading! <3
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sugoi-writes · 7 months ago
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Invictus - Alastor x GN! Reader (Fluff / Comfort)
A/N: Ahh, depression! Here is a little piece that hit me across the face while I was trying to recoup. Mentions of Alastor's regrets/angst, his mother's death (briefly/sparingly), reader is struggling mentally. I hope this can bring some comfort to folks who are going through it rn!
(lightly proofread, and made in heat of the moment, so sorry in advance!)
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"...do you ever wish that you weren't the Radio Demon, Alastor? That you weren't the person you became?" 
Alastor blinks, looking up to you from across the table. What an absurd, curious question to ask. You were always full of these ideas, ones that perplexed him to no end. But when he saw the look in your glazed over, simmering gaze... he decided that humoring you would be best. 
"...come again? I don't quite understand the question, dear." 
Hands were fidgeting below the table, chest feeling tight as you formulated your next sentence. You felt like your ribcage was being crushed by a hydrolic press. The grueling, agonizing pressure from your anxiety was threatening to make you keel over. And for a moment, you thought you might give in to the feeling. Thank the stars for Alastor's reciprocation in this conversation. 
"Like... Do you ever hate the place you're at right now? As a person? Do you ever wish you could start over again? Turn a new leaf? New name, new face, new space.... I know you think 'redemption' is bullshit, but..." 
You continue to avoid him and his steely eyes, a sad smile gracing your forlorn face," If you had a chance to... Not be yourself. To start over and lead a different life... Would you?" 
Alastor's mind pondered many things. The reason he was sentenced to rot hell. The reason that his mother died. The way that he was raised, the people who he fratenized with in life. The accursed deal he was entangled in. There were many things that made him who he was. There were things that even he regretted. But for all intents and purposes, he was exactly who he needed to be... But he could always be more. 'More' would never be enough, truly. 
And so Alastor took a sip of his coffee, eyes down cast to the newspaper in his other hand," ...I suppose anyone would like a chance to start over. For menial reasons or otherwise." 
You didn't notice the way he smiled, your eyes still down cast to your trembling hands. 
"But if it's all the same to you, darling... I rather like the person you are now." 
Your eyes developed hot tears, threatening to cascade down your flushed face at any moment. Alastor sighs heavily, setting his newspaper down on the coffee table. 
"Invictus. Have you heard of the poem Invictus by William Ernest Henley?" 
You blink, a few tears tumbling down your cheeks," I... Can't say that I have, honestly." Alastor hums in acknowledgement, manifesting a parchment out of thin air. 
"Would you care to hear it?" 
You make eye contact with Alastor, his smile simple, unforced. His face hung perfectly neutral as he waited for your permission. You, of course, had no qualms about hearing his voice. 
"O-Of course... Go ahead." 
Alastor cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair as he began. 
"Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul." 
A part of you smiled on the inside. Unconquerable.... This was definitely Alastor-coded to you. You didn't comment on this as he continued.
"In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed." 
You feel the tension in your shoulders disappearing, slumping forward as your body finally relaxed. Something about his voice, the evenness and clarity of his tone made you react physically. You couldn't put your finger on it... But he soothed you. He always had. 
When Alastor stood, your eyes widened, watching as he started to advance towards you. 
"Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid." 
The filter over his voice thickens, typically a telltale sign of Alastor's emotions fluctuating. Was he frustrated with you? Cross with you? You should have known better than to talk to him like this... God, what an idiot you were. But Alastor didn't feel this way. Alastor strode directly to your side, a hand settling on the top of your chair. With a flick of the wrist, he dismissed the parchment. He was quoting the poem from memory now.
"It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll" 
Alastor leans down to you, his free hand going to your shoulder. He shakes it gently, his radio filter fizzling out. His voice was left raw and bare, only for you to hear. His smile reached his eyes as he continued, his gaze not wavering from yours. 
"I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul." 
A comfortable, round silence fell between the two of you. You were conscious of his warmth, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. You were aware of his heartbeat, strong and steady like a metronome. You were aware of his stature, bent heavily at the hip to match your height. Your felt his eyes, kind and sincere, searching yours for a spark. You felt your heart flutter for a moment, as the weight of the poem and it's meaning settled over you. 
"What a lovely poem, Alastor," was all you could mutter, voice dry and brittle from your fragile, emotional state. 
"Of course. A powerful one, at that. I reflect on it often when I feel an inkling of... Doubt. Trepidation." 
Alastor, the one-and-only Radio Demon, having self doubt? What a troubling thing for him to entrust in you. 
"I encourage you to remember it well. And, you must reflect on it when these feelings of regret and anguish wash over you. I find that it can be very helpful; illuminating. It can remind you of your importance; your agency in your afterlife." 
Alastor, in a rare moment of tenderness, pats the top of your head, letting his fingers curl and run through your hair. 
"Shall we talk about anything else that troubles you, darling?' 
You blink, still reeling from the poem, it's gravity, and the kindness being showered upon you," N-No I.... No, I think I feel much better now. Thank you, Alastor." 
The Radio Demon accepts your answer, giving your hair a playful ruffle. He stands back up to his full height, his hand retracting from you slowly. 
"Anytime, dear. Though I think it's time to get a head start on the day, hmm?" You look up to the Radio Demon, who already has a cup of coffee summoned for you. You smile, graciously accepting the offering. 
"Of course... But... Could you... Y'know?" You tilt your head torwards Alastor's free hand, asking for more contact. Alastor sighs dramatically, before granting you more affection. Just look at how hopeless you were... It was almost too much.
"I suppose a minute or two more of this wouldn't hurt, would it?" 
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