#and I'm just like...under no circumstances could that have ever been the reality you know

[likeabxrdinflight]

I'm gonna find a way to shoehorn Mary into this good omens fic if it kills me

[moonbakeries]

HOW I MANIFESTED MY DREAM LIFE IN A WEEK

BACKSTORY

So I decided to fully immerse myself in "persisting" and fulfilling when I listened to Lonely one by LOVA because I spent around an hour just sobbing because I related to the song.

the week that I started was around Easter break and I was under the most amount of stress I have ever been through and I could see it the effects on my body

I was breaking out with huge pimples even though I was on accutane, I was averaging 2 hours of sleep a day every week for 2 weeks, my period had going on for 2 weeks, I was losing weight rapidly (was under 35kg:( ) my anxiety was at an all time high because I got harassed again(sexual assault victim). I used to have severe depression and have had multiple failed attempts of suicide. AND YES I WAS DESPERATE AS FUCK TO MANIFEST THIS DREAM LIFE OF MINE WHICH IS NO LONGER A DREAM

in the mornings I would be super anxious but I learned how to deal with it and get myself into the state super easily

HOW I DID IT

I GOT OFF TUMBLR: you know how many times I doubted myself only to realise I was doing everything right

I also read and listened to Edward Art MULTIPLE TIMES

Within a week of fulfilling and persisting, I had manifested my dream life. just like that. I woke up one morning and everything I had ever desired was right there. and it was super easy.

all I did was affirm(to remind not to get), visualise and feel. I would only do these methods if I wanted to, if I didn't I wouldn't.

Within a few days, the anxiety lessened so much and it started to feel natural. 

this was a question on Bambi's " how I manifested with hard circumstances " post which has now been sadly deleted but I remember copying this because it gave me hope at the time I copied it (don't hope, just know)

"But isn’t ranting “not letting the old story die out?” you and i could rant until our minds are cleared, just as long as you flip my thoughts, you are on the right track.  I rant for 2% of my 24 hour days. The other 98% i was persisting in the fact that creation was done. as “time” went on, it began to feel more natural and I felt more at ease. I held onto that feeling because I knew this was when I would get my desires and I did."

and that was when I knew I shouldn't give up and I just kept going even when I wanted myself to just get on tumblr and overconsume 

I actually nearly decided to see what I was "doing wrong". I clicked on one of Aphrodite's posts but I didn't read it. I just asked myself if I would look through it if I had my desires and I wouldn't and since I already have all of my desires I didn't.

Whenever the anxiety was too strong and I could feel the frustration and desperation building up, I would just rant and it helped me calm down and get back into the state super easily.

why?

because STATES MANIFEST THOUGHTS DON'T

which is why you can rant.

you know how many FUCKING DOUBTS I had, but I didn't even give them attention coz they didn't deserve any and how many times I wanted to just give up, but I was like NO, STFU, I DON'T WANNA LIVE MISERABLY ANYMORE and now I'm not :)

The affirmations I used:

It is done

I am living my dream life

I am in my desired reality

The 3d will conform as long as i keep persisting

Imagination is the real reality

I also daydreamed, but since imagination is the real reality they were real

WHAT I MANIFESTED

- desired appearance

- name change

- family change

- skills (drivers licence etc)

- apartment and furniture

- wealth

- a bunch of random materialistic things

- desired friend group (I absolutely love them!)

- desired uni and always getting good grades

- outfits from pinterest

and a bunch of other things

- I also ended up manifesting an sp without even knowing and he's pretty much I everything I scripted him to be(scripted a year ago because I didn't really care for a relationship) but this happened before I manifested my dream life

after a year and half of being on loablr I finally manifested my dream life. and you can too

(there was probably over 100 things I wanted but I realised what I want is not much, nothing ever is when you know about loa and yes, i was super desperate)

you don't need anymore information other than @angelsinluv states post and fulfillment challenge

you shouldn't ever be stressed or worried while manifesting whatever you want, because you wouldn't stress if you had it

TAKE YOUR TIME

YOU GOT THIS

[astrumark]

── SHE WAS LOVIN' ME, SHE WAS WANTIN' ME ★.

PAIRING: aemond targaryen x female reader.

SUMMARY: aemond is not accustomed to getting attention and you give him just that.

WARNINGS: one curse word, sexual implications, heavy make-out session, flirting.

WC: 2.9K

NOTES: i haven't written anything in two years so i'm very rusty, sorry. also english is not my native language.

Aemond has always been prideful, although this characteristic was often hidden under the circumstances of his life. But he was aware, and enjoyed a bit too much, all of his privileges as a prince, even being arrogant about it. His pride was a bit shaken when he didn't claim a dragon in his early childhood, a dragon meant a lot not only for a Targaryen but especially a male Targaryen, a symbol of their manhood. He felt more unworthy than other men in his family. When he finally claimed Vhagar, he lost his eye, an essential part of his body, and yet again, his entitlement faltered. When it was rather obvious that Aegon would become king one day, and how unfit for the role he was, Aemond was faced with the second son's burden and jealousy. Aemond was prideful, however, he never felt whole.

He was resentful because he could've had so much more. He'd sometimes dream about having the largest dragon alive, both of his eyes, and an Iron Throne to claim for himself. But reality would strike him once again and he would bury all of his anger, frustration, and envy deep in his heart and present only his well-built facet to others. Aemond felt so at fault he turned into a perfectionist. He needed to be the perfect pupil, the perfect warrior, the perfect son, brother, and one day, husband and father. To be respected, and to be feared. But no matter how much he succeed in his duties, he was never satisfied. Aemond's pride was wounded and he craved validation, even if he didn't admit it.

So yes, Aemond absolutely loved your attention.

When you first arrived at the Red Keep, your father a new member of the small council, Aemond believed your constant stare was due to your fear and disgust towards him, just as the other ladies. However, as moons went by, Aemond noticed there was something slightly different in your eyes, curiosity, perhaps? He felt your gaze on him constantly and decided to ignore it. But it certainly made him unease, such sudden interest. You even attended his training on certain afternoons, and he knew you couldn't mean anything good, which irritated him as well.

You, on the contrary, were enchanted with the prince the second you laid eyes on him. While reading a romance book, you believed that a person couldn't knock another's air out of their lungs upon a mere sight, but that's what happened. The air around you became thick and a soft gasp escaped your lips. He was the most handsome man you have ever encountered. You tried to pick on things you didn't like about him, and you found none. His tall and slim body, the typical leather attire, soft-looking silver hair, mesmerizing violet eye, and a, in your opinion, charming eyepatch. His face, you could have never imagined it in your head, unusual characteristics one would never think could end up looking so good when paired together. He was sharp but pretty, unique. Reminding you of a sculpture, to be appreciated, but better avoid touching it to not deteriorate the work.

Once knowing you would move to the Red Keep, Aemond was undoubtedly the royal you were most keen to meet in person. The mighty rider of Vhagar, such a legendary dragon. When you heard the story about the night he claimed her, you were standing on tiptoes. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon, he supposedly said. Only a child, you admired the boy, and that admiration didn't go away as more gossip about the one-eyed would reach your ears throughout the years, how he'd become a highly educated man and one of the finest warriors in all of Westeros, how he was collected and intimidating. Your expectations were high already, and he managed to surpass them. Even when Aemond demonstrated little interest in you or your acquaintance, you could not help but drool over him. His looks, his attitude, his voice. So delightful.

It was Helaena's name day and Queen Alicent decided to throw a banquet in celebration. The great hall was loud due to conversations and the music, not many lords had been invited, to not overwhelm Princess Helaena, who preferred calmer ambiances, nonetheless, the castle was a lot more full than usual. You poured more wine to yourself, stomach already full, half engaged in the conversation with other ladies, half watching Aemond, further on the table, across his brother. Lost in your trance, you didn't connect the voices to names, but you listened to them.

"I must confess I find Prince Aegon dashingly handsome. Princess Helaena's a lucky woman."

Giggles.

"Indeed, a shame he lacks morals."

"He's truly attractive, the whores and servants that earn his attention have nothing to complain about."

"Do you think if Prince Aemond still had his other eye, he could compare?"

"Not at all, he's simply strange looking."

You scoffed. "He's very handsome. Aegon is the one who could never compare to him, even lacking an eye."

One of the ladies smirked. "You are the only one who favors Aemond, I wonder why?"

"Perhaps I just have a better taste."

There was a sound of disapproval among the inner circle you found yourself in, and you sighed, drinking more of your wine.

"There's just something about him, a fire, an unpredictability. He looks calm, yet he seems as if he could explode at any moment, doesn't he?" You pondered, looking at him again. "Seven, he rides the largest dragon alive, is that not alluring enough?"

"Careful what you say out loud, dear Y/N, if the Septa finds out where your thoughts are wandering, she will not be pleased." Lady Vivien teased and the others burst out laughing. You rolled your eyes.

Aemond was bored out of his mind, but he forced himself to stay for his sister. He watched the feast impassive, speaking only when needed and fidgeting with his cup of wine. When Helaena left to gather with a group of young ladies, where you stood, and his mom seemed too engrossed in conversation with her friends, the young prince contemplated leaving, certain his presence was no longer a necessity. That was when Aegon opened his mouth.

"Do you think it makes her look stupid? Because I do," He drank from his cup. "But stupidly sensual."

"What do you speak of?" Aemond's tone was both tedious and exasperated.

"Lady Y/N, obviously, longingly staring at you," Aegon scoffed. "If she looked at me with those eyes, I tell you, brother, there wouldn't be much left of her afterward. Basically begging you to fuck her senseless."

Aemond would never say it out loud, but his heart skipped a beat at his brother's words. A thought that never once crossed his mind, because, surely, that couldn't be possible, not someone like you. But it made sense, yes. What he could never quite read in your eyes... was it lust? Pride filled his chest with the idea, the knowledge that you may desire him.

For the first time, when he felt your eyes on him, he locked his one with yours, watching you intently, now with the same interested gaze you held, confidently analyzing your face and reaction. When your lips turned into a shy yet flirtatious smile, only to shamefully avert your eyes right after, playing with your hair and pretending to focus on the conversation around you, he knew it. Your actions were not uncommon to him, he had seen them many times but directed at Aegon, and even his younger brother, Daeron, but never him. Gods, was it pleasant. He couldn't fight the smirk off his face as he sipped on his wine, an ego boost much needed.

You have noticed the shift in Aemond's behavior towards you after that night, it was impossible not to. How he started to return your stares and smirks and acknowledge your presence with words rather than a nod, sometimes even engaging in small conversations, asking about you and your interests. Each interaction lets you with a foolish smile and a racing heart.

Managing to convince Helaena to ditch the Septa's lessons for one afternoon, you found yourself in the Dragonpit since the princess decided she desired to fly. Although there hadn't much to do whilst you waited for her return, you didn't mind in the slightest. The structure, so big and magnificent, had always amazed you, the dragon's power distinguishable in the air. And for that, you were more than thrilled to visit Rhaenys's Hill every time someone suggested it. After chatting a bit with Helaena's sworn knight, you started wandering around, lost in thought.

Your body trembled upon hearing the most loud and rasping squeak, followed by harsh flaps of wings, and you lifted your head up. You already knew who it was, no other dragon compares to her. And if carefully inspected, one could easily understand each dragon's personality and mannerisms. You rushed outside, although still hiding behind one of the huge pillars at the entrance of the Dragonpit.

Vhagar landed on the ground with a loud thud, and it was as if the sand was shaking beneath your feet. You gawked at the creature. You had already seen her, but never this close. Although stunning, Vhagar also seemed unnatural, her colossal form not settling right in the ambiance. No living or dead being should be this big. You gulped nervously, she was otherworldly, for sure.

You listened to Aemond talking with a few dragonkeepers in High Valyrian, you had studied the language for a while, but you were not fluent, especially when spoken so fast. With difficulty, you managed to understand that the prince had asked for food. Aemond petted Vhagar whilst a few workers scattered away, surprisingly, they came back not much long after, guiding two living cows and a sheep.

You were fascinated and horrified as you watched Vhagar burn one of the cows, feasting in its carbonized meat and bones. You tore your gaze from what was left of the poor animal, instead focusing on Vhagar's appearance, memorizing it, her bronze scales and big green eyes, ridiculously sharp and deadly teeth, and visible scars of ancient battles all over her body. You couldn't help but recall all of the tales, so entertained by the beast, you didn't even notice the presence of the young prince behind you.

"I must admit my utter surprise, Lady Y/N. I was not expecting such a lovely presence in here." The voice startled you and a gasp escaped your lips as your body turned around.

"Prince Aemond," You said curtsying slightly, your head also lowered in embarrassment with the flattery, and you tried to fight the satisfied smile that threatened to break in the corner of your lips. "It seems your sister also found it fit to fly this afternoon. I came as a companion."

Aemond hummed, making butterflies arise in your stomach. "The weather is nice."

"Indeed." Your body turned to Vhagar again as the she-dragon now incinerated the sheep, a burning smell invading your nostrils once more.

"You like her." It was a statement, not a question.

"She is legendary, my Prince."

"That she is."

"Isn't it hard to believe she is one of the dragons that conquered Westeros all those years ago? And still stands before us? A living piece of history itself," You rambled, watching how they brought the other cow forward. "Ancient, powerful, magic. A fragment of the Old Valyria."

Aemond stood even taller, as if it was possible, filled with pride of his dragon, a smirk plastered on his face.

"She has seen so much, more than half of the people she has known is dead for quite some time now," You continued. "Have you heard about how the wild dragon Cannibal might be even older than Vhagar? It is absurd. Amazing creatures." Your gaze returned to Aemond.

He was already looking at you, listening to your words attentively, amusement clear behind his eye.

"Well, seeing as you admire her that much, I might take you for a ride," Aemond said. "Then, you will be able to see her full glory."

You chuckled wryly, looking back at Vhagar very briefly, before laying your full attention on the prince. "I suppose there are more shameful ways of dying than falling off a dragon." You jested.

"I would not let you fall," He paused, eye surveying your body up and down. "I'd hold onto you tight." You didn't miss the flirtatious tone.

You smirked, heart pounding loudly and feeling all hot. You stared at him, absolutely entranced by his handsome face, before entering his game.

"I don't know what would be more pleasant," You took a step closer to him, whispering in seduction. "Riding the mightiest dragon alive or being pressed against you."

Your stomach tingled as Aemond's eye darkened with lust. It was something you have noticed upon admiring him for so long, that, although his body and face remained often stoic, his eye didn't really lack emotion, and through it, you should be able to read his mood.

"It would pain me not to clear your doubts, pet." His hand brushed a strand of your hair and tucked it behind your ear, making the distance between you even smaller, and your breath hitched.

"We wouldn't want that." You whispered, stepping back, only to feel the coolness of the pillar, Aemond followed you like a predator, your chests pressed.

"No, we wouldn't." His long index finger caressed your jaw, the feather-like touch making you flutter your eyes shut as the hair on the nape of your neck stirred up. "So beautiful." He whispered, now cupping your cheeks in both hands and bringing your face closer to his.

You knew you should pull away, that you were in a public space, that although hidden behind the pillar, and not seen from the front, anyone that decided to enter or leave the building, could catch you in the most inappropriate way possible with the prince. You'd be forever ruined in court and your chances of a good marriage would disappear, your parents would rightfully so doom you, because how does one even explain this situation? But you couldn't.

All you could possibly think about was Aemond, the warmth of his body, and how good it felt, his breath mingling with yours, the texture of the leather beneath your fingers as you held his waist, his scent, of dragon, but something else as well, more citric and fresh you could only guess as his bathing oils and the absolute desire in his eye. No, you couldn't pull away and you wouldn't. You would risk everything to have the littlest taste of him. Aemond smirked, nose brushing yours, and then, he kissed you.

Aemond kissed you, and you could swear you floated, all of your other senses went numb, and you could only feel his warm and soft lips on yours. You sighed in contentment, and you moved your lips against his tentatively, a hot and pleasant sensation taking over your lower belly. You gladly let him deepen the kiss, and not even if you tried you could have prevented your soft moan from slipping out of you. You met him at his pace, not slow or fast, just right, the two of you getting to know and exploring the other. Growing confident, one of your hands moved to his strong jaw, stroking it gently as you had only dreamed of, Aemond groaned in pleasure, tightening his grip on you. And you continued to kiss him, eager and tenderly, somewhere in your mind, fearing that you were showing him how much you appreciated him, how much you wished for this, longed for this, longed for him.

Aemond noticed, of course he did, and it made him feel so good. You needed him, and Aemond enjoyed being needed. His hands slided down your body, caressing and squeezing your ass as he swallowed down your moan with his lips fervently devouring your own, his hands traveled through your hips and waist, going to the swell of your breasts and gripping on it, your surprised whimper making his cock throb. Aemond's lips moved to your jaw and exposed neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses and slight biting. You pulled at his hair, bringing his face to yours again, and he could only stare at you.

Because there, panting and with swollen lips, after letting him kiss and palm you in such a dangerous place, looking at him with a look that Aemond could only identify as pure adoration, he knew he'd got you in the palm of his hands, at his complete mercy, a sheep in a dragon's claw, and that you were his. He smiled wickedly, mine, he thought, heart swelling in pride. He locked your lips with his again, but in a peck. You were blissful.

"Come," He took your hand, subtly leading you inside, towards one of the many uninhabited tunnels.

And in the dark of the cave, away from any possible prying eyes, you kissed again, for several minutes or even more, heatedly and curiously, hands excited to feel as much of the other's body as possible. You bit, sucked, and licked one another. And even if just for that brief moment, Aemond felt whole. Nothing was pledging his mind as you deluged him with so much affection he could've drowned in it, all he cared about was the feeling of your delicate lips on his, your soft skin, your addicting taste and smell, and your loveliest moans that sounded like music to his ears. Aemond had bewitched you long ago, but unknowingly to the prince, you had just bewitched him as well. You needed him, and he'd willingly oblige to your wishes.

[kangaracha]

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 4

---

pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

previous | masterlist | next

---

By sheer coincidence, or maybe just rampant bad luck, you do see I.N on the way to your second dance practise of the day, lurking around by the vocal rooms at the same time as you finish a lesson.

You almost walk away, truth be told, when his back remains turned to you, busy talking to someone you don't recognise. You've barely met, apart from scattered exchanges of words (which is still more than you've exchanged with Han, who only ever seems focused on the dance or on doing something silly in another corner of the room), and it seems...awkward, to go over and grab him and not let go, as Lee Know had so eloquently put it. Rude, too, when he is still a sunbaenim, in public and in the group that you're now a part of, two years your senior even though he is younger-

It's a weird situation to be in. That reality hadn't left your mind since Taerin had pointed it out on the day you'd first received the offer; and it's only the safety of that knowledge bolstered by the...unease of turning up to dance practise and admitting that you saw him and didn't bring him that propels you down the hall, trying to catch his attention without interrupting his conversation. 

He glances over the moment that you pass by his peripheral vision, pausing midsentence to give you a small wave in greeting and then resuming what he was saying, half-turned as if you are part of the conversation. You hang back anyway, trying not to listen in as he finishes up and his friend departs, leaving you alone in the hallway.

"What's up?" he asks when the other boy is out of earshot.

A sheepish smile sets itself upon your face. "This might sound weird, but I was instructed to...drag you to dance practise, basically."

He stares at you for a second, uncomprehending, and then blanches, pulling several faces in a row. "I nearly forgot about that," he says, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, and then frowns. "Wait, is that what Lee Know hyung said?"

"Basically," you answer, and pull out your phone to show him. One eyebrow raises, a look of disdain crossing his face even as he struggles not to laugh.

"He makes it sound like I'm always late or something," he complains as you start down the hall together, shifting his bag on his shoulder for better comfort. "For the record, I've never been late."

Unbidden, a smile plays on your lips. "Never?" you dare to ask, testing the waters just a bit. 

You're pleased when he cracks a smile and a breathy laugh, unable to hide it under a straight face. "Maybe sometimes. Not as much as he wants you to think, though."

You're inclined to believe I.N, despite not knowing much of either side. While you've missed some of the boys in the first week of practise, never ending up close to each other by pure circumstance, you've spent the great majority of that time trying to follow along with Lee Know as he picks at details and mistakes and runs choreography back past the other boys - and toys with them as he pleases, straightfaced enough to make anything that comes out of his mouth sound believeable. 

And anything could come out of his mouth, any bald-faced lie he feels like telling in the moment. In practise times, he is a serious and trustworthy teacher, but as soon as the music turns off, anyone is fair game and any topic that will cause havoc amongst the people gathered in the room is preferable.

It's kind of funny, when you're standing nearby and innocently listening in. You have a feeling it's funny when it happens to you as well, but his particular kind of wit hasn't turned towards you yet. 

Lee Know is already waiting when you make it to the dance room, the music playing while he lazily marks choreography to the mirror. God's Menu, the track that's beginning to play in your dreams and your nightmares, when you find the time to have them. The bane of your existance, almost, except that the tune is horrifically catchy and the choreo is starting to make its way into your bones and at that point, it is hard to resent any of the track. 

He turns as you enter, watching the door swing open in the reflection of the mirror, and then strides across the room to pause the music. "You brought him," he says to you, pleased, as Jeongin trails in behind you, closing the door with the bump of his shoulder.

"Hyung," he says before you can say anything. "Why am I being escorted to practice now?"

"No reason," Lee Know replies, deadpan; but there's an impish look in his eyes that says otherwise, the ghost of the smile that he's hiding curving in the lines of his face. You have a feeling you've both just been the butt of some joke he's only told himself, especially when the look that Jeongin gives you behind his back is long-suffering. Perhaps you hadn't been so right about him not toying with you yet.

Dance practise runs smoothly, as it always does, although there is far less goofing around at the beginning than there is when all eight boys are here together. This is a sombre duo, you notice; Minho is sharp-eyed and precise in what he wants, but gentle in his teaching - I.N is studious in response, trying to press every little detail into his limbs in the short time given. 

You are serious about practise too, determined to get it right and trying to emulate the attitude that I.N puts forward as best you can, but...it is hard. Not the choreography so much, although it isn't easy, but the detail, the finer points that they have spent years honing while you were still scrapping for survival in the trainee rooms. They work with a practised ease, falling into a rhythm that molds to the other members that they've beaten into their bodies in the two long years they've danced with each other, but your body won't follow along so easily no matter how hard you try - always a little stiff, or a fraction slow, or too reserved when the rest are opening up. Always sticking out like a sore thumb, no matter the placement or the move.

Dancing was already a sticking point for you, an achilles heel you've worked and worked and worked to overcome, but this is...this is another thing. It's daunting, to come into this room every day and play yourself back on a video and notice the fractions of a second that pass by, the way everyone else moves around each other and you stand like a rock in the centre of their ocean, unable to follow an underwater current you weren't even made to feel.

"Bigger movements," Minho says as Chan's voice plays over the speakers, the nod of his head marking the choreography as he turns his back to the mirror and watches intently. Your kick is good, sky-high and bursting with energy, but the movement after it is quick, and then the throw-

"Bigger," Minho says again, arms reaching and pulling in example even as the music moves on. "Keep going."

You pick it back up at the prechorus, stretching for that extra movement he wants to see, trying to embed the feeling of it right down into your bones. It's hard, and it's tiring - your mind slips to something else, or your breath hitches funny in your throat, and your body wants to slip back into its old way of dancing, rather than stretching to its limits. You've always found details hard, to spot and to correct, your confidence in your own judgement lacking; unlike singing, where you were sure you knew what you were capable of and when you strayed from your goals.

The music ends with a final bow to the mirror, your mouth open and your chest heaving, the dance burning like liquid fire in your veins. You have to remind yourself to hold the pose and hide the weakness of your limbs for several seconds, a small moment you hadn't really thought to practise in the past - your eyes stray to Jeongin, taking up the spot just in front and to your right, waiting for him to break first before you relax too, shaking out your arms.

"It was good," Minho says, his voice lifting upwards in what you think is a hopeful tone. "Better than the other day."

"Still not good enough though," you reply, though you store the compliment away in the corner of your mind, pleased that he isn't saying you haven't learnt anything. Debut or not, you've always taken pride in being an excellent student, and you need that one thing to hold on to right now, when everything else is so up in the air.

"Not yet," Minho agrees readily, leaning back against the counter at the back of the room. His eyes meet yours in the mirror, the expression unreadable. "Not that it's an easy dance. Keep working on the details, and it will keep getting better."

You feel like there's an or else attached to that sentence that he isn't saying, a black cloud that hangs over you as his voice peters out and his gaze watches you thoughtfully, though what he's searching for, you don't know. All you can do is nod in response and push down the cold fear, letting his eyes drop away as he turns to say something to Jeongin that sounds much more positive than your review.

"Can we run through Top today too?" Jeongin questions when he is done, one sleeve wiping the sweat from his brow. "We're going back to that this week, aren't we?"

"Yeah," Minho confirms. "One week before we go."

"Top?" you question with a frown; the name sounds familiar, maybe from the extensive list of tracks sitting in a folder on your phone waiting to be listened to, but you can't summon any memory of the track itself off the top of your head. 

"Our Japan promotion next week," Jeongin says. "You haven't heard it yet?"

"I think I have it somewhere, but I've been focusing on the album," you reply. "You're going to Japan next week?"

"You don't have the new schedule?" Minho questions.

"No?" you reply tentatively. "Not one with Japan on it, anyway. The only thing on my schedule is dance and vocal. No one's told me anything else." Not even Chan, though he'd been...busier this week. More distant, only around for group practise and then gone again. You've seen most of the boys around by themselves, practising one thing or another, but not Chan, who seems quite happy to leave you with Minho and focus on whatever duties he had that were drawing him away. Not that you could blame him, when you were just an additional problem thrown on him right before a comeback. If you were him, you'd probably find someone else to deal with it too.

Jeongin reaches out, patting you on the shoulder sympathetically. "No one tells me anything either," he says, so serious that somehow, he circles right back around to funny. It surprises you, so much that a smile cracks across your face unbidden; which in turn makes him laugh, a short breath that swallows itself back down before it can become a proper giggle.

Minho is immune to the humor, arms crossed over his chest. He looks like he has something to say, his brow furrowed in a particular way, but all he says is, "Lets do Top," and turns to the computer again, scrolling through the tracklist. 

Jeongin turns towards the mirror, flashing you a smile as he picks a spot on the floor to begin. You shuffle out of the way before the music starts, dropping onto the couch in time with the first note and reaching for water. Minho wanders across the room in no real hurry, watching Jeongin pick up the first beats of the choreography on his own, the spaces where the other members are supposed to be around him gaping wide.

"Are you at the front for the chorus?" Minho asks over the sound of Hyunjin's voice playing through the speakers, Jeongin joining him at the side of the room as the verse plays out. 

"Yes," Jeongin replies.

"Oh, I.N-ah!" Minho crows, and then picks up the dance as Hyunjin's part ends and Seungmin begins, his voice clear and crisp as the beat behind it drops out. "Main dancer I.N-ah!"

Laughing, Jeongin follows, joining in time with the music. You watch, mesmerised as they work their way through the chorus and then back into another verse; this is obviously choreography made for a whole group, not to be done on its own, but even with the obvious gaps in the timing, it looks...cool. Fun, you're surprised to think, even though the fast, sharp movements never seem to stop and I.N obviously tires the longer it goes on, his action softening and his body starting to forget the movement that comes next, limbs hesitating a fraction too long. 

Minho oscillates between dancing and watching, eagle-eyes following every small shift in the other boy's body from start to finish. It's impressive, how much he can see at once, how there are so many timings missing with the other members and yet he knows where and when everything is supposed to hit, his brow furrowing or his head cocking to the side when something isn't quite right.

"You know what to work on for that," he says when the music ends, shrugging when Jeongin's eyes find him in the mirror. You move for him, leaning over to the computer to pause the music before the next song can start playing. 

"Everything?" Jeongin guesses wryly, pushing his hair back out of his eyes. 

"We haven't done it for a while," Minho says. "Wait until we all do it. You're going to be the only one in time."

"Because I'm at the front," Jeongin says, but he manages to smile anyway, turning away from the mirror in search of his water bottle. 

Minho is unsympathetic, following him across the room. "Well if we put you at the back, how will anyone see how cute you are?"

Jeongin twists sharply. "That's true," he says, masking the laugh that threatens to spread across his face. "You're smart, hyung."

"I know," Minho replies, and then he turns away, picking up his jacket. "Are you going home now?"

"No, I have a lesson."

"I.N-ah, are you practising everything today?" Minho's voice rises with each word, the grin on his face growing wider and wider. You lean back against the counter as you watch, amused at the way they bounce off each other as Minho pokes at his ribs and I.N laughs, skittering away out of reach. "You're so cool. You're going to be a rockstar."

"Get out of here," Jeongin says, shoving him away. 

Minho laughs, stepping towards the door, and then turning to you. "You were good today," he says; his voice light, but not uncaring. "You're going to sing next time."

"Thankyou," you say, your head dropping, unable to accept the compliment face-to-face. Someone outside catches Minho's attention in the next moment, drawing him towards the door. 

"Hey," Jeongin says before you can follow, drawing up beside you. "Give me your number, and I'll tell you when I'm in here practising."

You blink at him, your hand automatically reaching for your phone before stalling again. So far, only Minho has asked for your number, to organise times for these practises. "Are you sure?" you question. "You don't have to do that."

I.N nods, his phone already in his hand. "As your sunbae, I have to make sure Minho's teaching doesn't kill you," he says, a smile tucking itself away behind his cheek as he pretends to be completely serious. "As my elder, you should be here to make sure he doesn't kill me."

You're the first to laugh again, the sound bursting out of you unbidden at the face he makes, the specific way he intones each word. He looks pleased at your reaction, a smile lighting up his face. "Deal," you say, and you pull out your phone, tapping his number into a new contact.

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids @hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts @puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night @d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk @minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder

[reythenerdypisces]

things that I overlooked in PJO the first time / small, funny things I noticed during my reread

Part 4: The Battle of the Labyrinth

it's been way way way too long, I'm sorry, but I'm back with part 4 and part 5 will be uploaded by Monday!!

Whenever I thought about her [Rachel] (and I'm not saying I thought about her; she just like crossed my mind from time to time, okay?), ... this is after meeting her once!

She bared her fangs. I was so paralysed I couldn't move but Rachel through a snare drum at the empousa's head. Rachel is a beast with inanimate objects

We'd [Percy & Annabeth] fought together so many times we knew each other's moves. We could do this, easy.

Annabeth's hand slipped into mine. Under different circumstances I would've been embarrassed, but here in the dark I was glad to know where she was. It was about the only thing I was sure of. CUTEST

"I wouldn't have paid any attention except... well, it was Luke." She [Juniper] blushed a little greener. Grover huffed. "Forget what I said about good taste."

I stepped away from Annabeth. "We were just looking at maps," I said stupidly. Malcolm stared at me. "Okay."

"Percy, the spider's getting away. Do you really want me to explain the exact details of how I was born?" "Umm...no. That's okay."

Annabeth glared at me like she was going to punch me. Then she did something that surprised me even more. [...] I probably would've sat there for the rest of the day, staring at the lava and trying to remember what my name was, but the sea demons jarred me back to reality.

"They sent you to me, my brave one, knowing that you would break my heart." "But... I'm just... I mean, I'm just me." Percy has everyone in love with him and he still asks 'me?'

For the rest of my life I would always be thinking about her [Calypso]. She would always be my biggest what if. must be weird now that she's back and with Leo

"He was probably the bravest friend I've ever had. He..." Then she saw me. Her face went blood red. "He's right there!" then cut to: "You are the single most annoying person I have ever met!" And she stormed out of the room. I stared at the doorway. I felt like hitting something. "So much for being the bravest friend she's ever had."

Without waiting for us to protest, he picked up Annabeth and me as easily as if we were kittens, slung us both on his back, and galloped off towards the Big House. picturing this is hilarious

I left him in his wheelchair, staring sadly into the fireplace. I wondered how many times he'd sat here, waiting for heroes that never came back. ouch

Annabeth laughed. It was the first time, I'd heard her laugh in a long time. It was nice to hear.

The number had washed off my hand a long time ago, but that was ok. Without meaning to, I'd memorised it. he memorised Rachel's number!

How could this be a temple for my dad? My dad was a nice guy. He'd never asked me for a Father's Day card much less somebody's skull.

Ethan sneered. "There's no right side. The gods never cared about us. Why shouldn't I-" "Sign up with an army that makes you fight to death for entertainment?" Annabeth said. "Gee, I wonder." I love annabeth so so much

"Ow!" He yelled. For a moment it was only Luke's voice, full of surprise and pain. :(

Paul scratched his beard. "I don't know if it's permission, so much, but she's your mother. And I know you're going through a lot. I wouldn't feel right if I didn't talk to you about it first, man to man." [...] I thought about Paul and my mom, how she smiled and laughed more whenever he was around, and how Paul had gone out of his way to get me into high school. I found myself saying, "I think that's a great idea, Paul. Go for it." Sally and Paul are so wholesome

"And you Percy, are my favourite son." He [Poseidon] smiled, and at that moment, just being with him in the kitchen with him was the best birthday present I ever got.

the last olympian is left! on Monday, I promise :) let me know if you want the series to continue into heroes of Olympus, I'm really enjoying my reread

[ultimatesmuts]

A Different Side 🐍🌸

Description:

YN is out riding her broom one night and comes across a beat-up Draco. She takes him back to the castle and they find a deeper appreciation for each other

YN POV:

I've always been competitive. I suppose it's in the nature of a Gryffindor to be thrill seeking, making quidditch the perfect game for me.

I'm constantly taking laps on my broom around the quidditch pitch, it's become a nightly ritual of sorts for me. Today, however, I see 3 lines of black smoke shooting into the Forbidden Forest. Death Eaters.

I carefully fly over and drop down to the ground behind a tree, being sure I'm staying out of sight. I calm my breathing and focus on listening for voices.

"What are you doing?!", I jump at the whisper, feeling a hand grab my shoulder from behind and I turn to see Malfoy, with worrisome plastered on his face.

He looks terrified

"I could ask you the same thing, Malfoy", I say with a slight attitude (he's only ever been mean to me so why would I be nice)

His eyes widen in terror as he frantically shushes me with his hand, shoving me into the tree and practically shaking as he's looking around, scanning the area in silence.

What the hell is going on and why on earth is he acting like this?

After maybe a minute of panicked silence, he finally removes his hand from my mouth and quietly says, "I think they're gone"

I push Malfoy's body off of me, and look at him in pure confusion. "What the hell, Malfoy?! What is going on?"

His body stiffens at my question, and then I really notice his disheveled appearance. He has bags under his eyes, and he has what looks like a bruise starting to form on the side of his cheek

My demeanor softens, and I realize he's afraid.

He just shamefully looks away from me with teary eyes, shivering from the cold and my instincts take over.

"Come here, it's okay" I say, gesturing him in close to me

I don't know what happened to him, but I'm deciding to put aside our house rivalry in this moment

He hesitantly steps closer to me, looking almost embarrassed.

"Come on, let's get you to the castle", I gently sigh, feeling sorry for him as I gesture towards my broom.

I take off my Gryffindor scarf and gently wrap it around him, looking up into his sad eyes

He shivers again and I mount my broom, allowing him to climb on behind me.

At first he hesitates, but then he wraps his arms around my waist, seemingly hugging me in order to ground himself back to reality.

I kick off from the ground, and I feel him cling onto me tighter, feeling his warmth radiating throughout my body from him pressing himself up against me from behind

I know I shouldn't be thinking this right now but under different circumstances, I could fall for Malfoy. I know this is supposed to be innocent but I can feel his hot breath down my neck and it's making me feel all sorts of things I've never felt before.

When we arrive back to the quidditch pitch, I gently guide him to the locker rooms, where I hang my broom up and sit down next to him on one of the benches. I remove my cloak, wrapping it around him, and he closes his eyes at the warmth.

I look at him for a moment, taking in his presence. I admire his beautiful complexion, his perfect white blonde hair, and when he looks up at me I admire his blue-grey eyes.

I never really noticed how attractive he is before. He looks like an Angel.... Perfect in every way

"Malfoy" I lowly say, getting his attention

"Call me Draco", he quietly says, his eyes turning kind as he speaks

Even his voice is immaculate

I have to gently shake my head to snap myself out of my thoughts before replying

"Okay, Draco", I feel myself unintentionally blush saying his first name for the first time.

He looks down for a moment, and I can't tell if his cheeks are rosy from the cold or embarrassment

I gently place my hand on his back and ask, "are you okay?", feeling my face form a concerned expression

He gently looks at me and hesitantly whispers "I don't know"

I take a deep breath before continuing.

"Are you hurt?", I ask

He shakes his head no, and I start rubbing his back in a comforting way, saying "I noticed a bruise on your cheek, can you tell me how you got it?"

He stares straight ahead and then mumbles "I angered my father"

"What happened?", I ask, and I feel him tense up again before replying.

"How much did you see?", he asks me, worriedly

I turn to him, confused, and tell him how I saw 3 lines of black smoke (most likely death eaters) land in the forbidden forest and I decided to investigate

He sits there and hangs his head a bit, not wanting to make eye contact with me.

"Draco what happened?", I ask softly

"I can't tell you", he whispers with watery eyes

"Okay, that's okay you don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable", I gently say, half hugging him

He looks at me and with a quivering lip asks, "why are you being so nice to me? All I've ever been to you is mean"

I pull him closer, and I lean my head on his shoulder, loving the warm fuzzy feeling I'm getting from him

"Because you look like someone who just needs a bit of love and kindness"

He sits still for a moment, seemingly absorbing my body heat along with this information before his demeanor suddenly shifts and he becomes tense.

He pulls his sleeve up, showing me his dark mark, and I freeze, unable to register what's happening.

"I don't deserve love or kindness", he angrily tells me before standing up, stepping away from me

"Where are you going?", I worriedly ask him

"Why do you care? I'm a monster", he replies, his tears finally falling

"Getting close with me is a disaster waiting to happen"

My heart is breaking for him

"Draco, you're not a monster", I walk up to him and gently wipe away his tears, looking into his eyes

"You don't know that", he whispers, holding eye contact with me

"And you don't know for sure that this will become disastrous", I whisper back, continuing to wipe his tears with my thumb

He places his hand over mine on his cheek, and gently closes his eyes for a moment, before leaning in and placing a soft kiss on my forehead.

I feel my face heat up and I notice his cheeks are lightly dusted in pink as he gently starts to pull away.

Before his face is too far away, I grab him and pull him close, putting my lips onto his, to which he quickly responds, kissing me back just as fervently. I feel his heavy breathing as he pulls my body against his, and I allow my lips to gently part, allowing his tongue to enter my mouth.

Our tongues perform a slow and meaningful dance and I can feel the pure love and passion flowing from my body into the kiss, and I know he can feel it too.

We pull apart and gaze into each other's eyes, having a much deeper appreciation for each other while we catch our breaths.

He grabs my hand and gently pulls me so I'm following him.

"I'm not done with you, YN", he lowly says, guiding me through the empty halls

"You've shown me a side of you I never knew existed, and now I'm not sure I can live without further exploring this"

I bite my lip in anticipation, feeling happiness swell in my heart

"Someone's feeling better", I gently tease him, feeling heat rush to my face

He stops us in the hall and pushes me up against the wall, causing my breath to hitch.

"Don't tease me unless you want to face the consequences, love", he smirks into my neck, placing a few soft kisses there while pressing his body against mine, lighting my nervous system on fire

He backs away and winks at me, gesturing for me to follow him.

Soon, we're in the Slytherin common room, with him gently leading me towards his dorm.

All sorts of feelings are happening inside me right now, I mean, how was I supposed to be prepared for this?

"You ready to show me that love you were saying I deserved? Hm?", he gently says while pressing me into his door, before leaning down and pecking my lips once more

I can't help myself as I let out a soft audible sigh, already becoming lost in the moment, which immediately catches his attention

He opens his dorm door, and pulls us both inside before locking it twice.

[lovely-oh-so-lovelyyui]

If you fail to plan, you plan to fail.

No one wanted to play with me as a little kid, so I've been scheming like a criminal ever since - to make them love me and make it seem effortless.

I'm only cryptic and Machiavellian because I care...

Beatrix Sakamaki hcs

Beatrix is handsome.

She takes in nearly every way after her father with her striking gunmetal blue eyes, her strong jaw, and her height. 

Those dreamers’ eyes were the softest shades of blue circling one another, like the hypnosis of cerulean.

They were framed by long caramel blonde lashes. She had deep-set eyes, one would think they were unfocused and lethargic if not for her rehearsed icy glares shades of brandished steel striking through the blue. 

Not to mention their shared standoffish demeanour, however, her father is chased and admired as the steadfast and mysterious Duke of Calabria. She is the self-centred, ice princess who thinks she is better than others. 

How strange is that?   

Not to mention her monstrous fangs, it was the talk of society, an abnormality. Most vampiric women had lethal fangs but they were long, thin, and elegantly curled in.

Beatrix inherited her war hero father’s large fangs that would slice the flesh of her lips as a child if she wasn’t careful, they were thick and long, glistening with paralysing venom, one wrong move and she could rip one’s throat clean out. It was commanding and they were a clear symbol of an apex predator.

Some find it alluring as there are very few records of women having such ferocious teeth, some find it insulting, a ducal princess having such a feature is vulgar and unladylike. 

Others are tempted to know how it feels, after all, vampires experience another’s bite under 2 conditions. When they’re locked in battle or a lover’s embrace. As a way of signifying belonging to another or dominance of the fiercer vampire, even among men such a fearsome trait was rare.

Her height was another factor that stood out; vampires were no dainty creatures, reaching up to 6’8 or 7' 0, but very few women, especially those of the aristocracy, were over 5 '11. Whereas Beatrix reached 6’3, dwarfing her brothers. Yet even as she stood out, heads turning to her approach, very little had seen hesitance in her footfalls.

Everything about her is purposeful.

The person you stare at in envy because she looks like a creation of Pygmalion comes alive. So utterly fantastic to look at with her fluid motions, and sharp angular features carved of marble creating a creature that invokes a sense of inferiority.

Do not be mistaken these circumstances do not mean she lacked the feminine allure, her mother Adelaide was infamous throughout high society for her beauty, to the extent many would whisper she had the blood of fæ. It was evident if the rumoured blood of fæ did exist, Beatrix had inherited it.

 But she is sensible and self-deprecating, with a timid air around her, speaking when spoken to, centring herself as a wallflower.

With her mother’s flaxen blonde hair, with thick curls that glistened like Apollo’s. It was radiant, tousled naturally just so, curling around her pale face almost creating a halo-like barrier separating the veil of reality and the ethereal.

 Her face was pale like milk, unblemished, with no unsightly blotchy flush, sheen like crushed pearls, a youthful inquisition imprinted upon such a face that it would not fade even as the years wore at her;. a philosophical beauty if one was ever made. The mathematicians would be driven mad by the perfect proportions of such a face.

The golden ratio as they said.

Aside from a triangle of moles on the side of her forehead. With dark arching brows and adorably feminine lips, no matter how hard she tried her poker face, they were set in a pout, a pale peach-pink that complimented her wintertime shades.

Her hands are thin and nimble from long hours of perfecting her letters for her household, they are pronounced at her knuckles, with rosy nails always kept small and tidy. The constellations of needle pricks along her arms were covered in the kingdom’s finest lace.

The face of regrets, she had this intense aura with her long straight nose that she would observe you from  as well as her slender neck and collarbones like that of a swan, decorated by precious gems.

 Women gripping their sanity when she speaks to them, looking down at them, her eyebrow arched and her lips pulled into this smirk, an amused yet indecipherable face, smarter, stronger, more chivalrous than their pathetic fiancés. Countless handkerchiefs dropped just to hold her attention, foolish excuses of tired legs as they occupy her table at banquets, brought along to dinner parties with picture-perfect poise as they take hidden glances at this dreamlike entity. 

Her most appealing feature (to a man at least - to most her existence itself so paradoxical you could not look away) would be her legs, she had a dancer's poise. Her slender figure curved into wide-set hips, and strong legs with taut muscles.

To her it's all just a burden, her slim pear silhouette just means her corset has to be tighter to emphasise it.

All in all, she looked like the idealistic vampiric woman, with her inscrutable expression, practised politeness, and gentle voice with the sophistication that the affluent lorded over.

Her voice is quite a nasty thing, it’s quiet, throaty, and feminine. It’s commanding, a declaration of someone so obviously of the upper echelon, with her mixed accents of the knowledge of more languages - dead or alive- than one could even name.

It made you feel centred when she talked to you, concentrating only on you, her lips moving inpatient syllables, the attention was flustering, but it was flattering.

But when she smiled? Those rare unpractised uncertain smiles that came with the hesitance of one who wasn't used to joy? She was the most stunning woman in the eyes of the beholder.

She looked her best in her bruised colours.  They complimented her golden blonde locks as they fell against bodices of the shades of twilight. Always neatly tied out of her face, even such untameable hair was placed with the purpose to enhance her face. 

At her debutante, it was for the sake of her family flaunting their newest offer for the marriage market, or to showcase her dress from the seamstress sponsored by her family, or her earrings from her family's diamond mines.

A perfect political piece. One that raked in just the right amount of attraction without shoving herself out like a harlot, her audience’s shallow curiosity that could never uncover her swallowed secrets pushed down to the bottom of her stomach allowing her to put duty first, such a well-rehearsed puppet it was no wonder no one had ever cracked past her facade.

And I could recite about that beauty of hers for many more pages, but there lay such charm in her sardonic wit that I'd truly be doing her an injustice with just flattered vanity of her physical appearance.

When the water washes away the dark liner, power and rogue blush  it reveals tired eyes tinged with lilacs from sleepless nights pouring attention over old, cracking books, possessed by a mind with far more ideas than her body could ever contain.

Her conversations with Mr Moon and the ceiling were never-ending, feet pacing back and forth, curls tugged in frustration, a pathetic figure curled in the warm water of the tub during the witching hour. Her matted hair is wet as she seeks warmth; a cigarette lit between her lips, already the third one. Evident by the other buds in the ashtray yet it is only a prelude to all the other substances she will smoke before attempting to bear with her stifling family at breakfast where her brother’s hateful stares and her father’s refusal to sit at the same table will erase her appetite so she fills herself with the dizzying smoke in preparation.

Rather than the princess in the glasshouses, she is the glasshouse.

Even though she is effortlessly beautiful, she is an absolute mess if left to her own accords.

Her hair was tossed together in a ridiculous excuse of an updo framing her face in the privacy of her attic regardless of whether it was wet or knotted, all alone slouched over the library chairs, hands turning pages of journals that should be falling apart.

Her tongue slips past her fangs, a teasing pink, as she concentrates—chapped lips and a dry throat, a hunger so desperate to fill the void.

So focused on the past not wanting to live in the present.

She spends her days cooped in the West Wing’s library long abandoned since Adelaide’s death, skipping the family dinner times and seeking refuge in a dusty salon sipping soup from her maids tin can, she blocks out the scornful looks - stealing the tiniest amounts of power hidden in her brother’s waistcoat, her sharp accent slurred into something softer and more compassionate - almost human on her fall from divinity. 

Cautiously,  weaving lies to hide the large secrets in her larger mansion. 

Familiar with the dark attic where long hours are spent, the rusted phonogram has been playing the same tunes since she was a child. Long limbs glistened with sweat, stretching and bending. Twirling and twisting, the music slithering into her bones, guided by pure instinct and primal need to continue this solo piece for hours on end, surpassing perfection till her bloody feet, blue and black now dyed bloody red, had created her masterpiece on the floor. 

At her core she was a dancer first, a slave to the muses, discarding all to glide in a castle of salt and sand made from soft notes to the tempestuous thundering of instruments. Only broken feet to prove it.

Yet she was sharper than she ever let on, books tucked under her arm snuck into her room, jam stains smeared on them as she carelessly turned pages, folded her pages as her attention is dragged away to another, ink-stained hands noting her discoveries cramming pages that had been filled when no other journals were found and she filled notebooks away with her thoughts only returning to write more about her mundane life, the lines squeezed with the pressure of recording her. 

An attempt to immortalise herself, to prove her existence, to stop herself from becoming a nobody that nobody will remember.

They were stacked alongside the walls, making her protective fortress of loneliness, crates of chalk used up as she wrote up equations and erased them upon her walls, spewing the voices in her head across them. 

Her inquisition continues. What was the point in starting something if she couldn’t see it through? 

She was no lady, not here at least, they could herald her as their porcelain puppet out there but here. In the drab rooms, just past the insect-bitten velvet curtains, the light shone on a little dirty diamond. Unfortunately, her walls had ears.

Jars of stored specimens, dirt so deep under her nails from the dusks and dawns when her silent steps discovered what lay beyond her gilded castle, but her excuses were flimsy for all her intelligence the language of people came weak.

Her brothers raided her rooms of adventure, smashing bottles, tearing and burning pages of long nights, the tiniest mistakes led to unimaginable consequences. 

Accusations hurled, the scorn and misplaced anger toppled its boiling cauldron. 

God forbid anyone heard her pleas, her father who had long forsaken her too burdened with the sight of his wife’s killer. Her phonogram was in so many pieces, that even her skilled fingers rearranging the coils and metal pieces could not resurrect it.

So she escaped, for more and more days, the hours stretched until she escaped from her tower. Disguises and lies freely flowed and she perfected her art, but all her achievements outside her snowglobe led to harsher winters within. 

Unfortunately, children who are starved accept all that is given, the warmth of the outside made her forget how filthy it was. It dragged her down, and the wrong people started seeking her, but it made her feel wanted so she followed the tune of the piper, it was a shelter of delusion and exploitation. 

Till that too shattered and she transcended the basic wants and needs. 

Perhaps that is where her loathing for the outside world came from, the poison far too deeply attached to her haemoglobin, flowing through her beating heart and corrupting all.

But every action has an opposite effect and consequence, and the cane, the choice of weapon her executioner had chosen, broke her apart further than she had ever been before. 

As her facade came apart there was only one solution really, to send the doll shop back to the toy shop for parts to be switched out and replaced, once more winded to perfection till it fell apart again.

She arrived at her new home ‘ Grimhilde’s Academy for Noble Ladies’, on a drizzling January morning.

[celestemagnoliathewriter]

Ok ok ok so this is something I have pondered for a bit now that I have re-entered the Remadora fandom again for the first time for probably almost 15 years. As you seem to be the de facto keeper of some of the deepest headcanons of this niche topic, I am curious what your take is.

Question: How many people do you think know, at least initially/when it happened, knew Remus left?

Hear me out here. Ok so the book isn’t remotely clear how long he was gone because we only get an update in like Feb/March when Ron returns but the Pottermore bio that he was actually gone for like 3 days, which is still absolutely a dick move, but significantly different than being gone for *months.*

Now, most fics I’ve read at any point have included him *saying* in some form that he’s leaving, either in the form of a letter of sorts, or I do really like TauraNorma’s whole scene in Flying Colours in which it’s an in-person conversation, but beyond dissociated from reality on his part.

But, if I were in her position, I don’t know how much I’d divulge to others? It would certainly be a difficult position. If she did stay with her parents for that period, or after, (I do love Remus saying she’d safe at her parents’ house as if they didn’t literally just get tortured. Bro. Really?) she *does* have some plausible deniability of “he had to go to some Order business” to them to have some shield for her own embarrassment.

Maybe to Molly and Arthur as a “hey if my husband lands at your house or something, wanna shoot me a message?” but past that I’m not 100% sure how I land with others knowing. It seems very possible to me that when Ron is with Billy and Fleur, Ron, while listening to Potterwatch or something, offhandedly asks them if he ever went back to Tonks and them being like sorry wat. And Ron having the unfortunate task of regaling what happened at Grimmauld Place in August. I could definitely see it spreading from there and more of their acquaintances finding out from that discussion but obviously Tonks is like 8 months pregnant and they’ve been living together seemingly the entire time.

Ok I’m sorry this ended up shockingly long. I may not have been entirely sober when furiously typing it out the first time.

Ahhhh what a compelling ask, @millennihilism!

I'm honored you consider me the de facto keeper of the HCs on this, but I'll also be the first to say that there are a LOT of differing opinions on this one because of the lack of canon data.

You're correct that Pottermore says that Remus was only gone about 3 days. We have no idea what circumstances he left Tonks in. Letter? In person? Dashing away in the night without a word? Who knows.

From a close reading of DH, there's no indication of how long Remus was gone. You could say 3 days, 3 weeks, 3 months, 8 months ... technically all canon compliant if you're not using Pottermore as a source.

That being said, my personal HC is no more than a week, and again, I know that many people would disagree with this assessment of Remus's absence, but I believe it's a shorter absence for many reasons, including an answer to your question of how many people knew that he left her.

Remus is a dick, but he's not *THAT* much of a dick. He's a coward, but he's not *THAT* much of a coward. Remus does have a good bit of kindness in him, and he's brave enough to do the right thing when push comes to shove. Harry literally shoved him. I think that put Remus squarely in his place and shamed him enough to return to Tonks.

Remus's support system is down to almost nothing. He presumably has the following people outside of Tonks: Molly and Arthur, Bill and Fleur. That's it. He thought he had the trio, but that wasn't true, given Harry rebuking him.

We know from Remus that he's been tailed by a Death Eater for three days before he came to Grimmauld Place. If he's been tailed by a Death Eater, where could he have been? Certainly not the Burrow, where they'd find him. Certainly not Shell Cottage, as it's under the Fidelius Charm, presumably. So that gives us an idea that if he was tailed by a Death Eater for three days (curiously, the amount of time Pottermore tells us he was gone for), and just now got to GP to talk to the trio, he's been on the go for three days by the time he gets to the trio.

Because there is nowhere to go for Remus, that puts him in an awkward position. I don't think that anyone outside the Tonkses knew he left her. I think that Remus left, and Tonks vacillated between being sure he was coming back and being really terrified and scared that something would happen to him. Oh, and anger. Lots of righteous anger. I can imagine she told her parents by way of explaining that she was living with them now. It's possible she told him he was on a mission, but they didn't believe her.

Because of the 3 day ordeal of being tailed by a Death Eater, this is why I do NOT think that Remus went to the Burrow or Shell Cottage before he came to GP, or after, for that matter. While we know that Remus knows about Shell Cottage - when he announces Teddy's birth in the spring - we don't know when that information was given to him. I don't think Lupin could've been gone for months and months because we do know that Ron was at Shell Cottage, and he didn't mention Lupin being there. It's possible Lupin went to Shell Cottage for a few weeks, but I'm also not buying that for other reasons.

Bill is the most lenient and understanding of the brothers, but there's a huge difference to me between Ron leaving his friends when times got tough and Lupin leaving his pregnant wife in the middle of a war. Plus, think of Fleur. Do you really think Fleur would be okay with Lupin crashing at her house to avoid his responsibilities? She gushes about how brave her husband is in the hospital wing scene. She'd look at Lupin like the tiniest and most miserable snail in the world if he dared use her home as a hiding place from his wife.

I also don't think that Bill and Fleur would be on Remus's side over Tonks. Bill was two years ahead of Tonks in school. Bill might have kinship with Remus after being attacked by Fenrir Greenback, but that kinship, IMO, is not going to be enough to defend Lupin's actions on leaving his wife. I also believe Lupin knew this, which is why I staunchly believe that Lupin NEVER went to Shell Cottage in his time away from Tonks.

So at the end of the day, who knew that Lupin left Tonks? Initially, likely only the trio and the Tonkses. Remus returns fairly quickly. I can imagine Ron sharing Lupin's arrival at GP to Bill and Fleur, who probably had shock and disappointment at Lupin's actions. But by then Lupin's back home so it's in the past. I assume Molly and Arthur would've been told through the grapevine, possibly Kingsley too, and everyone just keeps it under wraps because it's Remus having a moment of panic.

And for how long was Remus gone? I take the 3 day to a week position because Lupin had no viable places to stay without endangering other people, which seems to be his number one fear. I also take that timeline because he's being tailed and he knows it. He returns to the safest place, his home with Tonks and her parents, where they can be in hiding (forever furious Ted couldn't have stayed with them?? why did he die??? it makes no earthly sense except to give Teddy Lupin his name and have another orphan raised by his grandmother??)

At the end of the day, I will never ever ever ever buy the idea that Remus was gone for a long time. He does the right thing when push comes to shove, and he was shoved by Harry. He is a coward, but when the time is right, he does the brave thing. He also loves Tonks, and Tonks is forgiving and kind. That's why they work.

I hope this answers your questions!!

[sparklyeevee]

So I get that this is Tumblr and probably not a lot of us here have direct experience with having a spouse who's also a work partner, but I have and it is on this basis that I say that Siuan Sanche made the best choices available to her under the circumstances. She's already having all kinds of reservations about this plan, yeah? And about her ability to execute her part of it. She utterly failed to get the Tower ready to support the Dragon, and then rushed Moiraine and the kids into the situation in Episode 8, which would reasonably be setting off a lot of "Oh, light, what have I done" feelings even before she started hearing how it went down, but like, also turns out she didn't send her wife to her death after all so that's a plus.

Anyway they've found the Dragon Reborn, but so far literally nothing else has gone to plan. They need to regroup and reevaluate, but Moiraine's letters are still trying to make out like she's got everything under control. Then it comes out that: Moiraine is stilled, Moiraine didn't tell her for six fucking months, Moiraine is handling it so badly, psychologically, that she threatened to have another Aes Sedai forcibly take her Warder's bond. I wanna be clear on that middle thing - in a spouse, keeping a secret like that for six months is forgivable, probably. In a work partner, it's completely unacceptable. They needed this time to make a new plan, a plan informed by the reality of their situation, and Moiraine, however understandable her reasons, made that impossible.

So Siuan realizes somewhere between Lan finding her and her putting a shield on Rand, that Moiraine is no longer someone she can rely on as a partner in this. She knows she can't do it on her own - she can't be in that many places at once. She goes through it in her head and can't think of anyone else she could trust to guide the Dragon Reborn. So the only viable course of action available to her is to obey Tower law, shield Rand, get him back to Tar Valon. Maybe in a few months she'll have a better idea, but right now this is the safest, and most reversible, thing she can do.

I want to be clear here, as a viewer, I'm not like, a fan of this plan. Rand is a whole person and he doesn't deserve to be kept on a leash, or in a cage, or wielded like a weapon. I don't think Siuan likes it either.

But somehow Moiraine and Lan escape, because apparently Verin told Leane to let her go, and that's going to be a problem later but right now she's got several more pressing problems. She finishes putting out the extremely literal fires, and she finds Moiraine about to take the Dragon Reborn through a waygate, and apparently able to channel?! She needs this situation to not vanish out of her control right now, and Moiraine lied to her (again?), and she's trying to address the practicalities of the situation but Moiraine keeps trying to steer things back to the interpersonal ("I've been more truthful with you than anyone else", "If you ever loved me", rather than anything relevant to the situation at hand, like "I thought I was stilled", or even "Let me explain"), so she uses the most expedient means available to stop everyone from just fucking leaving.

A fate of the world level important project is falling apart, she just found out that her wife with whom she's been working on this for 20 years cannot be relied upon to work with her on it, and she's making the best choices she can with the time and resources available. Calling that "character assassination" is unfair to the writing and to her.

[kokitschi]

AITA for getting two of my classmates killed?

Okay, okay, I know the title sounds bad but hear me out first.

So we're in this (involuntary) death game, right, long story. Basically the goal is to get away with murder but if you get caught, you get horrifically executed. Fun stuff.

Anyway, so this whole situation kinda takes a toll on me, but I keep it lowkey. Well, actually, my strategy was to act like I'm really enjoying this whole game, get chummy with the game master and stuff like that. I was apparently very convincing, even though I kept dropping hints that I'm not having a good time. So everyone was convinced pretty early on that I'm some psycho who gets pleasure out of watching people suffer, which admittedly I can't fully blame them for. But they were literally convinced I was satan incarnated before I ever did some heinous stuff just because I wasn't very nice and friendly and didn't want to pretend like we can just friendship-is-magic our way out of this. They literally got upset at me for freely speaking about the death of our classmates and trying to warn this sweet naive fucking idiot about being too trusting and the consequences of cooperating under these circumstances. No, I was not nice about it. But like, get real. They just didn't want to face the reality of the situation and that's fucking dangerous.

Anywayyyy, time passes, people get killed, everyones on edge and depressed and shit. Despite what I just said, I didn't actually believe that we all shouldn't cooperate under any circumstances. I just thought we shouldn't do it so openly. So there were two people I mainly cooperated with, let's call them G and M.

G is the aforementioned sweet naive idiot, he also happens to be an absolute mountain of a man. I saw potential in him, I knew he wasn't actually that dumb, he was just, naive and trusting and he really really wanted to protect people. I thought that was a dangerous combination. So I took him under my wing and we did spend a lot of time together.

M is... well, she's a dumb fucking bitch. Obnoxious as hell. But she's also pretty brilliant in making stuff. Like, inventions I mean. VERY USEFUL. We didn't get along much, but I knew how to handle her and we ended up collaborating on several creations and gadgets.

It was really powerful stuff, y'know? I was sure we could use these to take down the game master. I said as much to her. But she... was unsure. Actually, I guess it would be more accurate to say that she was scared, if not terrified. She didn't believe that we could win this way because she thought our classmates would definitely betray us! Can't blame her for thinking that, I guess. It was still pretty discouraging. It would've been fine if the issue had ended here, probably.

But then... long story short, I found out that she was trying to kill me. :')

I would've laughed but it really wasn't that funny, was it. I thought we had at least a truce, you backstabbing fucking bitch. Haha.

I couldn't let this happen. Of course I didn't want to die, but I did also think that if I die here, everyone else will also die. Even if she didn't get away with it, which is debatable because there would've only been about 1.5 competent people left alive to figure it out, I had plans to properly end this game. I couldn't die here.

I had to eliminate her first. She was simply too big of a threat. Not only was she actively planning to murder me, after we've literally created another possibility, she was also emotionally very unstable. It was too risky to solve this another way. Even if we had managed to pacify her now, she was still the biggest risk factor.

I had probably squeezed out all the valuable uses out of her anyway at that point, hah.

So yeah, I decided to strike her down before she could strike me down. But I didn't want to risk either getting everyone killed (because obviously I could've planned a murder I could get away with, duh) or getting executed myself. That would kinda be against the point of ending this game with more than 2 people left alive.

G had grown very depressed over the course of the game. He's always had a tendency to self deprecate and he's been offering himself as a meat shild since the very beginning but especially lately. So I thought I would be so kind and take him up on his offer :)

You guys don't know just how much he's been begging to be used, be useful, protect someone. Literally.

I planned the murder. I manipulated G, convincing him that this was the way to save everyone and he executed my orders. He killed her. I didn't have to get my own hands dirty. He even bought in his own ideas to cover up the murder scene!

The only information I hid from him was that I never planned to let him get away with this. He still chose to kill her, yknow? I didn't force him to do it. I did push his buttons. I knew he would do it if I just said the right words. But if I hadn't manipulated him like this, someone else eventually would've. And he would've done it for them too. Maybe it was always gonna happen!

Anyway, G got executed. Despite some hiccups during the trials, we unraveled the murder and well. He's dead now. My classmates are very upset with me hahahaha :')

But I didn't have a choice. What was supposed to do? Is it wrong of me for wanting to live? For thinking about the situation realistically? For thinking I was more necessary to end this game than either of them?

Edit: I've usurped the game master. Surely me officially ending this game will prevent people from murdering any more. :)

[wejustvibing]

As much as it hurts not seeing him with them anymore because he truly loved that team and there was even talks about him being a future ambassador for them forever even when he retires but i can’t help but feel the treatment he got ever since 2021 didn’t help at all it was one of the most heartbreaking moments in his life and they didn’t take his side like they should… and they brought us toto’s lap dog and he’s taking credits for everything and ignoring lewis in everything never gonna forget lewis’s obvious heartbreak in singapore this year or even worse the qatar one where they literally humiliated him by shoving a camera to his face and apologizing to woody and not giving a damn about his feelings..💔

It hurts because this is so not the way it was supposed to end between them at all for sure a lot of Mercedes employees adore lewis and are just shocked and broken over this news

And Ferrari is just i don’t know what to say if they’re not gonna be in a winning path it’s just a waste of time for him and more stress them being racist is no surprise this whole sport is tbh and they’re all disgusting i know lewis can handle it well he’s been doing it since he was a kid but i just need to see him back to his winning thriving ways and for him to finally being happy that’s it i most definitely wanted to be at the place he called home for more than a decade but it is what is and him being happy and relieved is what really matters to me.

P.S, can’t wait for toto to realize how big of a fuck up did he do when he treated lewis like this the past years and i wont be even sad if mercedes is gonna be witnessing a downfall after he leaves🙂

"It hurts because this is so not the way it was supposed to end between them at all for sure"

that part is the realest when i think about it from his point of view. he's had to make this decision, he's had to put himself first under whatever circumstances, the reality of which we might never get to know. this is not some "natural end" like toto has said. but anyway i'm glad he's separated himself enough to understand the reality over wasting time chasing something that's probably only imaginary. once he did that, it must have been a simple pros and cons decision because what really is the difference between merc and ferrari rn for him to stick around with one and getting mistreated vs starting afresh where he feels wanted with the other? none to me. besides, most brains behind the glory days have already left (some are even at ferrari) must have taken a lot freeing himself from the shackles of "we're family" and "this is my home" mentality and i'm so proud of him for doing that. he could have waited out the rest of his years in his comfort zone blaming how things are not improving. instead at 40yo he's betting on himself all over again and taking risk and charge of his own fate. you just have to respect it for what it is

[bum-scum]

Here's a little snippet of the Trustshipping one-shot im doing.

Read under here:

Leading up the events of walking towards the private helicopter, Ishizu was waiting at the bay, taking a seat until the awaited call of her flight was announced. The expedition to the new museum was a success! Ishizu felt proud of the tasks that were given to her and with all the attendees that arrived was more than she expected to count. She was given praise for her efforts and acknowledgments, and of course her expertise in ancient Egyptian history. It made her feel giddy, and she smiled. 

“Whatever you’re smiling about is certainly not pleasant, given the circumstance that you’re in.” The voice popped Ishizu back into reality. Looking up she saw none other than the CEO of Kaiba Corporation himself: Seto Kaiba. Standing right Infront of her. 

She frowned at him, but she noticed that he nodded at the flight board, and she saw her flight had been delayed.  

Great. But she could wait, after all it was just delayed- “You’re coming with me.” 

What? 

“Seto-”  

“I'm not wasting another moment in this stupid fucking airport more than I must. Let's go, Ishizu.”  

She scrambled to get up from her seat. Rushing her way towards the tall man that hastily walked like he was avoiding being contaminated by unwanted germs.  

“Well at least let me cancel-” Shocked by Kaiba’s sudden halt, he snatched the plan ticket from her hand and tossed it out into the crowded sea of people.  

“Seto!” 

“Oops, the wind must of took it. Now hurry up!”  

The nerve of that man had cause Ishizu to become upset, not like he’ll ever care about her feelings of something so trivial. It was the way he just told her to come along, and she went along with him without a second thought. She didn’t even have a choice in a matter either. Kaiba was going to force her to come along, whether she liked it or not.  

It annoyed her. 

“You’re insufferable you know that?”  

“Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before. Now hurry up, before I'm going to be late. Where are you heading to?”  

“Japan.” 

“Perfect.” 

[everythinglucymaudmontgomery]

A Few Words in Defense of Poor Robin and the Time She Was Living In

It's been really interesting to read everyone's vitriol regarding poor Robin. I remember reading this book through at least twice before and never thinking of Robin as anything other than a fellow prisoner of Jane's. Is she a good mother, by no means, but I've always felt that she's doing the best that she can under the circumstances.

I think that her life is a literal living hell. She has a husband across country that she desperately loves but most likely thinks despises her because I KNOW she despises herself. She is forced to be a social butterfly by her mother and she can't even express her emotions by crying at night in her own room because her mother will be able to tell and will find some new creative way to torture her and, by extension, Jane. Her daughter whom she loves fiercely, evidently looks just like her father and is a constant reminder of what she lost/threw away. She is playing a part in a horrific nightmarish play just to survive because she doesn't know what else to do. At that time, and under those circumstances, I don't doubt that she sees living with her mother's horribleness is her best option for providing for Jane. I can't imagine how many times she has most likely visualized running away with Jane by herself but most likely is more afraid of the two of them starving to death and NO mother ever wants to remotely consider that option.

I'm also pretty sure that the time frame for this book is sometime in the 20s/30s. According to the website for the Canadian Museum of History, Canada was among the most profoundly affected countries. So add that to Robin's fears for their livelihood.

And please let's not forget that, for all of Robin's faults, Jane does not doubt that her mother loves her. I have more to say in defense of her and Jane and their secret ways of expressing love but since I don't want to give away any spoilers to those who haven't read it yet, I will refrain.

Another thing that I have found is very interesting about how Maud wrote both "The Blue Castle" and "Jane of Lantern Hill" is that she writes more strictly from one point of view. As common as that is in many books, one thing I always liked about the Anne books was that you got all of these wonderful insights into the minds of other characters. I have seen it a precious few times so far in Lantern Hill.

The reason I point this out is that most of how we are seeing Jane's life play out is from the perspective of an 11 year old. Don't get me wrong, a very perceptive (at times) and wise beyond her years, 11 year old, but an 11 year old, none the less. They are not known to be the most broad minded of people and have a tendency to color the world with a narrowness that can alter reality to some extent. We do have to take a lot of her experiences and outlooks with a grain of salt giving others the benefit of the doubt at least.

I have often found it very difficult bordering on impossible to read books from other time frames without being influenced by the modern sensibilities and customs I am used to. For example, how could Cinderella's stepmother get away with taking her own house away from her after her father died and treating her like a slave? Oh wait. This was not the 21st century, orphans were not looked at the same. In fact, most people looked at orphans as if it was THEIR own fault that they were orphans, like losing your parents makes you a bad person and not worth time or pity.

Am I excusing Robin's behavior? As a mother, NO. Do I think the grandmother should be excused. HEAVENS NO! But I do try to put myself in their shoes as much as I can and remember that this was a different time and place. Not to mention, as a sufferer of mental health issues and knowing that that was something that was not touched with a ten foot pole back then and good lord knows what genetic predisposition they had in that regards on top of living through WW1 and the Great Depression AND the Spanish Flu Pandemic!!!!

Anyway, I hope this makes some semblance of sense to my dear fellow lovers of L.M.M. It's been so interesting and enlightening getting to hear the different thoughts and outlooks from fresh readers of this little known but wonderful book.

[4dkellysworld]

Hi, I hope you're doing well. I'm the user who sent you the question about death and i came here to thank you. You don't need answer and i even ask you here not to answer, but if you can and want, i'd like you to read it 🙏🏻🪻

The questions of death i addressed were more about shifting into desired reality, or attaining the enlightenment of Being. I saw many concepts, sucess stories, posts and everything about "don't identify with the bodie/circumstances" and change of consciousness, go to another desired reality, void and that, that if taken in contrast attached to each different type of traumas and limiting beliefs, was very difficult. That's why i mentioned about "zombie" and attaining the Self, Absolute, through death. As if death takes us to the core of everything without illusion/traumas and any limitation holding us back not at all. Some are so tired that they want to reach the self without enduring more days and days without knowing when they will succeed; i know it may sound confusing, wrong and I'm complicating things, but i wanted to explain my point in case i confused you ((even if there's no really need to))

Maybe i'm being too impatient or we complicate things, but it's part of everyone's process. Thank you so much for your answer to my ask, i'm very grateful ((this is something me and a friend had been thinking about. We both went through this kind of thinking, she went first and i on the day i sent you the ask.. and i needed to talk about it)) but with just one post you helped with a change of perception.

When we feel welcomed, it's a blessing. Thank you very much indeed 🙏🏻💓💓

Thanks for writing back. I know you asked not to post this and I would have but I felt it necessary to address some of the things you wrote, as it might clear up some confusion and help you.

"that if taken in contrast attached to each different type of traumas and limiting beliefs, was very difficult"

I understand completely. For traumas, this was something I felt I had to address before I could let go of ego completely (I had tried before but some things are just too deeply entrenched and you need to uproot and dissolve those first). I highly recommend reading the posts under my releasing tag here as it's all based on what I personally did to release them. It's also what Lester did for his realization (he went all the way with this method actually). Honestly, the peace alone that it gives makes it more than worth it (forgetting about self-realization for a second here) but it also helped me drop a lot of ego concepts. You can apply this to any ego concepts to be dropped (including limiting beliefs) and not just trauma but I highly recommend using releasing to address and release trauma. Give it an honest try, it will help a lot.

"That's why i mentioned about "zombie" and attaining the Self, Absolute, through death. As if death takes us to the core of everything without illusion/traumas and any limitation holding us back not at all.

Self isn't something you have to attain. Ever. You already are It. Right now. Really! You can never stop being Self, even when you think you are not It. Death of ego identification is the only real solution and this does not come from death of the physical body. The ego can continue on after physical death. Only you can dissolve the illusions, traumas and limitations by dropping them.

I'm going to share some excerpts from Autobiography of a Yogi which describes the karmic process after physical death for one who has not released identification of the body-mind-ego. You don't necessarily need to believe in any of this but the understanding of the three bodies (physical, astral and causal) of a limited being is consistent from what I've read of Advaita Vedanta teachings and Lester Levenson, Siddharameshwar Maharaj and Robert Adams who are all fully realized beings have all covered this too.

“The undeveloped man must undergo countless earthly and astral and causal incarnations in order to emerge from his three bodies. The physical karma or desires of man must be completely worked out before his continued stay in astral worlds becomes possible,” my guru elucidated in his thrilling voice. “Two kinds of beings live in the astral spheres. Those who still have earthly karma to dispose of and who must therefore reinhabit a gross physical body in order to pay their karmic debts could be classified, after physical death, as temporary visitors to the astral world rather than as established residents.” “Beings with unredeemed earthly karma are not permitted after astral death to go to the high causal sphere of cosmic ideas, but must shuttle to and fro from the physical and astral worlds only, conscious successively of their physical body of sixteen gross elements, and of their astral body of nineteen subtle elements. After each loss of his physical body, however, an undeveloped being from the earth remains for the most part in the deep stupor of the death-sleep and is hardly conscious of the beautiful astral sphere. After the astral rest, such a man returns to the material plane for further lessons, gradually accustoming himself, through repeated journeys, to the worlds of subtle astral texture.” “Normal or long-established residents of the astral universe, on the other hand, are those who, freed forever from all material longings, need return no more to the gross vibrations of earth. Such beings have only astral and causal karma to work out. At astral death these beings pass to the infinitely finer and more delicate causal world. At the end of a certain span, determined by cosmic law, these advanced beings then return to Hiranyaloka or a similar high astral planet, reborn in a new astral body to work out their unredeemed astral karma.” “Just as most people on earth have not learned through meditation-acquired vision to appreciate the superior joys and advantages of astral life and thus, after death, desire to return to the limited, imperfect pleasures of earth, so many astral beings, during the normal disintegration of their astral bodies, fail to picture the advanced state of spiritual joy in the causal world and, dwelling on thoughts of the more gross and gaudy astral happiness, yearn to revisit the astral paradise. Heavy astral karma must be redeemed by such beings before they can achieve after astral death an unbroken stay in the causal thought-world, so thinly partitioned from the Creator. “Only when a being has no further desires for experiences in the pleasing-to-the-eye astral cosmos, and cannot be tempted to go back there, does he remain in the causal world. Completing there the work of redeeming all causal karma or seeds of past desires, the confined soul thrusts out the last of the three corks of ignorance and, emerging from the final jar of the causal body, commingles with the Eternal.

Now I also don't want to cause more concern by sharing this because I imagine maybe someone who reads this will be thinking "oh great, I need to go through the astral realm and the causal realm after this and work out other karma?" but it need not be so. Lester said one can become fully realized in this lifetime in the material realm here and go all the way back home to the Eternal/Absolute as a shortcut without having to go back up through the various realms individually. He also said this realm is the best for becoming fully realized because it's the worst and most hellish realm which gives us the most incentive while the astral and causal realms are a lot nicer/heavenly so there's less incentive to end the whole cycle and just go all the way Home (though there is still suffering because there are still limitations until you shed all bodies, end all cycles and return back to the Absolute).

Although this information might be comforting to someone if they don't think they can be fully realized in this lifetime but are confident they can shed their material attachments and karma since they can stop reincarnating in the physical realm at least? If anyone wants, I can share the book as some of the chapters are quite interesting although I was hesitant to share it sooner because I'm not sure if it will help or cause more confusion or anxiety about the cycles (though personally for me it gave a lot of clarity because I'm pretty sure the void state is actually being aware in the causal realm because you are still perceiving so it's not pure conciousness).

Some are so tired that they want to reach the self without enduring more days and days without knowing when they will succeed

Succeed in what? Self-realization? You are the Self right now. But I understand what you mean. No matter how much you read those words, until you have your own realization of that truth, it's not going to mean much or make much sense. You just have to surrender and accept the present moment instead of wondering when it's going to come and whether you will fail or succeed. Just give up thinking about outcomes altogether and just do what you need to do each day and it will come one day on its own without you thinking on it. Stressing about it is just feeding the ego and mind more with self-imposed limitations; it won't help your realization at all. Just stay sincere on the path and keep the faith. If you are earnest and sincere, you will definitely have your realization.

The mind will rebel in the beginning, but with patience and perseverance, it will yield and keep quiet. Here patience is wisdom; don’t think of failure. There can be no failure in this undertaking. All will happen by itself. You need not do anything, only don’t prevent it. It all comes spontaneously; you need only to hold on to the ‘I am’. It is very much like digging a well. You reject all that is not water, till you reach the life-giving spring. Nisargadatta Maharaj

[hopeymchope]

Why Raeliana Ended Up... Being So Awesome

"Why Raeliana Ended Up at the Duke's Mansion" is SO fucking good - so much more up my alley than I ever expected - and I'm going to now struggle to explain why.

The short version is that it's all about the quality of writing and the likeability of our lead heroine. The dialogue is so human and the conflicts never feel based in stupid actions that could just be equally discussed. The characters are all smart and engaging. The animation's no slouch, either, and the opening song is a BANGER.

...okay, so there's a lot of stuff to like. But the writing is the MAIN factor.

I'm getting ahead of myself. See, this all began as a Korean serial web novel, and I would DEEPLY like to read it some day but DAMN, there doesn't seem to be an English translation. It was then adapted into a manwha that thankfully IS being published in English. (...I'd still rather have access to the original source material though.) And now it's additional gotten a visual novel that's coming to Steam and it has this anime adaption! The very last of those being how *I* finally discovered it.

You know what this shot implies *already*, don't you?

Let me get this disclaimer out of the way: This is... an isekai. And I usually recoil from isekai stories because it's not a setup I like to begin with, but they are also SO overdone by now that they feel SO generic.

And yet... lately I've found a couple delicious exceptions. Such as this one.

Lovely Sarcastic Independent Aggressive Manipulative Funny Adorable Badass

Your quick story setup: A young woman (in the web novel and manwha, she's Korean; in the anime, she's Japanese) is killed under mysterious circumstances and wakes up inside the body of Raeliana, a minor character from a Eurpoean Fantasy-style romance novel she recently read. In the book she read, Raeliana's murder is what spurs the main heroine of the story, Beatrice, to come home from studying abroad, investigate and charge the killer with his crime, and fall in love with the mysterious Duke Noah Wynknight along the way.

This immediately presents our New Raeliana with multiple concerns rolling around her brain:

She now lives in a world that resembles a Regency-era European country, albeit with magic and monsters. This means that, as a woman, her options for autonomy are limited. Women in this fantasy world may have slightly more freedom than they did in reality at the same time... but not by a lot. And this becomes an overarching issue to EVERYTHING ELSE she tries to do.

She wasn't fully reincarnated, either — she woke up inside an already-adult body. Which implies that she somehow stole it from the soul that previously inhabited it. If that's the case, where's the Original Raeliana? And how will New Raeliana feel about suddenly occupying another person's life and altering it by her actions, either unwittingly or intentionally?

New Raeliana knows from reading that novel that "she" — or rather, the body she's inhabiting — is supposed to die soon. She also knows who the culprit will be: Her own fiancée that she's been engaged to for years, with both families long having agreed upon the match. She has no intention of just letting herself die twice in rapid succession, but how is she going to get adequate leverage to break it off? And even if she does, will that actually change her fate?

....though if she doesn't die, where does that leave Beatrice's future?

Of course, New Raeliana is wielding the inside knowledge she gleaned from the book about this world and its characters. She uses those resources to work her way into a protective arrangement wherein she lives at the mansion of Duke Noah Wynknight under the guise of being his fiancée. (The Wynknights are evidently well-known for their tradition of incoming fiancées having to live in the same house with their future husband, albeit on separate floors.) Then it's matter of manipulating over events into her favor...

PLOTTING.

This situation makes Noah and Raeliana into Uneasy Allies. And many more challenges will threaten that alliance, as well as his standing and her own survival, including physical dangers from murderers and monsters, societal threats from plotting nobles, the potential exposure of their lies, emotional turmoil from within, and SO MUCH more.

Duke Noah ain't a slouch on SKETCHY-ASS behavior, either.

Ultimately, this is a love story — the kind where some initial antagonism melts into affection against the supposed "better judgment" of those involved. It's can pretty touching, honestly. But along the way, there's just so much fun dialogue and characterization PLUS some really badass bits. The greatness isn't in the concept; it's in the execution. Which is something that's kind of hard to explain in a review like this one. You just have to see it for yourself, and I don't want to ruin any of the highlights.

Well... maybe I can imply a few things.

FEATURING SUCH DELIGHTFUL TROPES AS:

Fake Relationship

Deconfirmed Bachelor

Bodyguarding a Badass

Belligerent Sexual Tension

The Quiet One

Violently Protective (Boy)friend

Wham Shot

[slutforsfender]

𝐬𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 - 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭, 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐀𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚

I woke up the next morning wrapped up in Sam's arms around my body. He was holding onto me tight as if he was scared to let go. My head and heart had a million feelings going through them. Fear, happiness, anger, safety. 

I sat for a while staring at the room around while letting my thoughts roam free for a minute trying to come to some sanity. My sixteen year old self was cursing my twenty eight year old self while also being happy at current circumstances. 

Sam started to stir next to me as he woke up, bringing me back to reality. 

"Morning Rose" He rasped out in his morning voice which almost killed all doubts in me. 

"Good morning" I smiled back as he pressed a kiss to my head. 

"I'm scared if I wake up fully this will either be a dream or the conversation we will have will end not how I want to" He spoke, making me tense under his touch.

"I think reality was lost last night for both of us" I laughed a little, my nerves playing through. 

"It could be reality this, but it isn't that easy is it?" He asked, stroking my hair.

"I've only been home for two weeks and here we are. It feels like a chaotic romance, I mean we are chaotic but I don't think we can just sleep together and forget everything that happened and get back together" I sigh. 

"Okay" He says, stopping to think before speaking again. "How about this? We don' forget everything but we don't go back to hating each other either and arguing all the time or being strangers. We try the friend thing?" He says, sitting up and looking me in the eye. 

A feeling settled inside me in that moment. A feeling of I don't whether this will end good or bad but I don't want to loose him again and put myself through that heartache. 

"We'll try the friend thing" I smile as we sit across from each other for a moment in silence. 

"Right I better be going, mam will be skitzing said I was only going for a few" He said causing us to laugh as he gathered his things from the night before.

That conversation was easier than I ever wished yet it left me with a feeling I couldn't even describe. I didn't even want to delve into it as I fell back on my bed and let out the loudest sigh ever.

My mind fell back to one of the first interactions we had back when we were fourteen before there was any romance between us. 

I sat in a Science lesson writing away, answering the questions on the board as my friend who was sat between me and the blonde boy was talking away in my ear. Suddenly the teacher spoke to stop writing and get ready for the bell. 

"Shut up small person" I spoke to Brandon as he made some stupid comment. 

"Oi say that when stood next to Sam" Brandon spoke as he pointed to the tall blonde boy next to him. 

For some weird reason we both stepped closer to each other, comparing heights as Brandon laughed. 

I looked into his eyes with my arms crossed and I felt some weird feeling that I did not let my brain register.

"Oh wow you are actually tall" I spoke as I walked away to my seat, grabbing my backpack as he copied the same action. Our eyes not quite leaving each other as Brandon talked away. 

"Right come on it's break. You need to find your girlfriend and our friends" I said, leading us away as Sam found his friends as well.

My brain came back to reality as I messaged Phoebe, letting her know what happened. 

Phoebe: Right well it sounds like we need to have a girls night in, I'm setting off now. love ya. 

I smiled at the message and decided to get ready, not letting my brain to think.

It was a bit later now and I was pouring glasses of wine for me and Phoebe as she chose the music to play through the speakers.

"So when are my favourite people coming home?" She asked as we sat at my dining table. 

"Tommorow afternoon" I reply. 

"Oooh got one more night for more activities then" She said wiggling her eyebrows. 

"Okay the wine has hit you straight away" I joked as I ignored the comment.

"No seriously though. Just friends?" She asked, genuine interest.

"Yeah we agreed we couldn't just dive into getting back together after twelve years since our breakup" I spoke, staring at my wine glass.

"Ah so it's an agreement to be just friends until you are bit more less on bad terms" She spoke. 

"No no, we aren't getting back together. We can't. It's me and Sam" I spoke as if it was obvious. 

"Okay if you say so but I will still be mad at him for the heartbreak he caused you" She says, standing up to turn up the music, causing me to laugh as my phone buzzed. 

Sam: Dean was adamant on coming over, thought I'd be a wreck hahaha

I laughed as I sent a pic back of me and Phoebe, smiling at the picture. 

Me and Phoebe enjoyed the free house as we talked over everything that has happened in our friendship with a weird feeling left in the air. 

liked by sam_fender, phoebe_anderson and 643,523 others

arabella_young nights with phoebe like the 16 year olds we were once 🤍

tagged: phoebe_anderson

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username1 she's gorgeous wtf!!

username2 sam's in the likes. how tf does he know her                                                      ^                                                                                username3 probably just finds her attractive like the rest of us or they have worked together, she's a writer  

phoebe_anderson my gorgeous bestfriend 

^                                                                               arabella_young just marry me at this point!

deanedwardthompson stunning bella!            ^                           

arabella_young thankyou deano x                   

^                                                       username4 anyone else confused by these interactions??                                                          ^                                                                              username5 me too!!

username7 god she's gorgeous. to be arabella right now as well with sam and the lads interacting.