#practice your faith without fear

[harmonysanreads]

PUPPY PHAINON IS SO REAL OMG

i think it be so funny (extremely sexy) if he goes absolutely feral because his love got hurt on the battlefield

i'm talking absolute carnage, not a soul alive, people being genuinely scared because wtf man (bonus if his partner only got a minor flesh wound hehe)

Your lover has been acting... strange recently.

Though, the abnormalities have been so conveniently spaced, so intertwined with inconveniences that they could be brushed off as mere coincidences — in hindsight, at least. You'd be found guilty of this practice, as it becomes second nature to assume the best of people that can bear one's trust. There appears the occasional incident, where you find yourself second guessing that faith instead and question the normalcy of this particular genre of human behavior.

“Will you tell me now, who did this to you, melite?”

You find that you need to use force in order to push down the flinch that almost crawled all over your skin, unaccustomed to this tone of his.

You push yourself closer, your nails dig a bit harder into the fabric covering his arm ; sensing his gaze towards your direction. Your grasp is more labored than it should've been, you can feel the tendons beneath your grip flexing in barely held restraint. Murmurs follow their way to your ear, unintelligible in fear of feeding further the hero's wrath.

“I have been telling you this since the beginning, Phai.” in spite of your effort, exasperation bleeds into your words.

You glance from behind Phainon's shadow — pointedly at that — towards the knuckle tight grip he has on the fellow's skull. ‘Unfortunate’ probably does not suffice to describe this random pedestrian's situation. You're not given more time to ponder the validity of that claim as something reminiscent of a crack drifts to your ear, alerting you to hasten.

“It wasn't this man, it wasn't any human to begin with! You have to believe me, please.” you tilt your head and make sure to secure his gaze, ripples of discontent appear on the once placid ocean.

You knew it wasn't exactly unusual for one's protective instincts to be provoked in relation to a loved one, but for it reach this magnitude was concerning in your book. Especially so considering their increasing appearances, over the most mundane matters at that.

The Chrysos Heirs aren't known as without their fair share of eccentricities, you suppose they are suited for ones destined to be heroes. But every new scene over a scratch against a surface, a person standing too close, a different gaze lingering too long has you questioning if Phainon's ‘protectiveness’ can really be excused for long.

Perhaps the helplessness in your eyes had finally pushed through the layers of rage bubbling in his head and the contact with your skin had weakened the flames, as he loosens his clasp on the man's head, before shoving him aside with enough force to make you feel the kick of your heart against your ribcage.

You don't get to check the man's condition as Phainon takes your hand in his previously occupied one, his thumb ghosts over the scratch across its back, the swift difference unnerves you for a second.

You know not to waste your breath though, catching the implications. “It... was that pillar.” you avert your eyes upon feeling his caress halt.

“...Which one?” his curt inquiry alerts you. His fingers flex and relax around yours, you can no longer hear the crowd.

You bypass a breath to grasp his collar, caution clouds your mind. The abruptness of your action startles Phainon, as he meets your frown.

“Don’t.” you warn, the realization that makes itself known on his countenance at your order proves your hypothesis to be correct.

“But that pillar deserves it, melite.” something similar to a pout softens his face and at last you find traces of the Phainon you are so familiar with. “If it's hurt you once, it will do it again. Isn't it better to just remove it to avoid that scenario?”

You let go of his collar and rest your palm on his cheek, unable to restrain the sigh that escapes your lips, “Phai, the pillar is an inanimate object.”

He leans into your touch, you're certain he would've melted from it had it not been for the embers of his previous fury keeping his senses sharp, “So?”

You steer yourself away from face-palming, “So, I'm saying that you shouldn't make more of a scene than you've already had. I just want a peaceful evening with you, okay?”

He blankly stares at you for a moment, digesting each syllable. Only when the ‘with you’ reaches his ears does he seem to have sobered up. Phainon nods, taking your hand from his face to press a kiss on the scratch marring the skin. You notice his eyes straying, you would've missed it completely had you not been paying attention — a side-eye towards the fellow now scrambling away.

You've succeeded in preventing any major incident from occuring today, but your power in maintaining the consistency of this endeavor remains uncertain.

I tweaked the scenario a bit because it was funnier in my head orz but overprotective Phainon is so delicious, ty nonnie!

[starsreality]

★ OVERCONSUMERISIM IS MAKING US BRAINDEAD

Stop studying the Law of Assumption! You’ve learnt ENOUGH, now it's time to practice by putting your knowledge to the test.

Mindlessly scrolling on social media may seem harmless but it's not, too much of anything and it becomes poison. You already know everything, you have all the answers so what are you waiting for?

The Law of Assumption is NOT learnt in a classroom setting, but meant to be practiced in real life. It’s a life style not a test.

The more you ingest informational LOA blogs and keep procrastinating on actually practicing LOA in your life, the more confused you just become. At some point, you aren't even learning anymore, you are consuming an overload of information you already know because you keep doubting yourself and had zero faith in your abilities.

Do not fear failure, failure is a learning experience. Fear never actually getting to practice LOA because your "mindset wasn't perfect" or maybe "your circumstances weren't right" just yet. Stop making excuses, things will never be perfect if you wait for it. You have to change the 4D in order to receive in the 3D, so why are you waiting for the results to happen without even changing the 4D?

I'm saying this from my own personal experience, just hoping to advice those in the same cycle of misery i was in.

[hwangeter]

HWANG Method - Entering the Void

Entering the void, astral projection, and lucid dreaming are completely natural experiences. They are not something foreign to you but rather innate abilities that have always been within you, waiting to be remembered. All you need is concentration, faith, and practice.

Each person may experience this process differently, but the key is to trust that the void is your natural state. You don’t have to force anything—just allow it to happen.

Step 1: Deep Relaxation

Before you begin, find a quiet place where you won’t be disturbed. You can be lying down, sitting, or in any position that feels comfortable to you.

Close your eyes and start breathing slowly and deeply. As you inhale and exhale, mentally repeat affirmations that help you release stress and relax your body:

"I am so relaxed."

"My body feels as light as a feather."

"I release all the stress of the day."

"Each breath takes me deeper."

Focus on the sensations. Feel how, with each exhalation, your body releases tension, as if you were dissolving into the air.

If your mind starts to wander, simply observe your thoughts without judgment and gently bring your attention back to your breathing.

Step 2: Setting Your Intention

Once you are deeply relaxed, it’s time to set your intention. This is crucial because your mind needs a clear direction to guide the experience.

Tell yourself with conviction:

"Tonight, I will enter the void."

"I will have a lucid dream with complete clarity."

"I will detach from my physical body and explore beyond it."

It’s not just about repeating words—it’s about feeling what you are affirming. Your intention is the key that unlocks the door to the void.

Step 3: Affirmations of Connection

Now that your intention is set, start affirming your presence in this natural state. Repeat mentally or out loud:

"I AM."

"I am pure consciousness."

"This is my natural state."

"Being in the void is natural for me."

"I AM the void."

"I AM power."

"There is no separation between me and the all."

These affirmations should feel authentic. Even if, at first, it seems like you’re just repeating words, over time, you will start to believe them and experience them as truth.

Imagine that each affirmation is like a key unlocking new dimensions within you.

Symptoms (or Lack of Symptoms) During the Transition

As you enter this state, you may begin to feel physical and energetic sensations. Some of them may include:

A feeling of extreme heaviness or absolute lightness

Vibrations throughout your body

A sensation of falling or floating

A buzzing or ringing in your ears

Pressure in your head or chest

An increased heart rate

The feeling that something is "pulling" you away from your physical body

However, it is also possible to enter the void without experiencing any symptoms at all. Some people transition smoothly without physical sensations, simply finding themselves in the void effortlessly.

Both experiences are valid—whether you feel sensations or not, trust that the process is working.

If any sensation becomes too intense, simply relax even more and surrender to the process.

Remember: the void is your natural state. There is nothing to fear.

Extra Tip

A useful trick to help detach from your physical body is to visualize your hands moving in your mind. Imagine yourself lifting them, touching your surroundings, feeling textures.

This technique can make it easier to separate and take the final step into the experience.

Additional Elements

If you wish, you can enhance the method with:

Relaxing music or ambient sounds

Subliminal audios with affirmation messages

Binaural frequencies that induce altered states of consciousness

There are no strict rules on what to use, but the most important thing is that your attention always returns to your breathing.

Final Advice

If at any moment you feel fear or uncertainty, remember that you are in control. The void is not something external—it is a part of you.

Trust the process.

Let go without forcing anything.

Remember that this is natural for you.

Once you complete these steps, you will have entered the void. From there, you can experience the universe in ways you never imagined.

- Good luck. I love you, hwangeter.

[ryin-silverfish]

One nerd's musing about Chinese religion and "respect"

-I try to stay away from fandom discourse, but, much like how you can smell the stench from a dumpster fire without walking into said dumpster fire, I've noticed something that seemed to come up a lot in western JTTW + adjacent fandoms: "respect Chinese religion".

-Usually as a reason for why you shouldn't ship a character, because of fucking course it's shipping discourse too.

-And my first reaction is "Man, you are taking Chinese religion too darn seriously, more than people who are born and raised in China."

-My second reaction is "I mean, most of us are atheist/agnostic by default anyways, with a good number of what I'd call 'atheist/agnostics with superstitions': people who said they were not religious, yet believed in Fengshui or divinations and burnt incense at temples for good luck."

-My third reaction: "But why do I get the feeling that when you mention 'Respect', you are thinking about something completely different?"

-Then I reread an essay from Anthony C. Yu, "Religion and Literature in China: The "Obscure Way" of Journey to the West", and the metaphorical lightbulb just lit up over my head.

(Everything below applies more to Daoism + associated folk religions, but by the time most classic Chinese vernacular novels were written, the blending of the three religions had become well and truly mainstream.)

(The conception of gods differs from dynasty to dynasty. What I'm describing here is mostly based on Ming and Qing ones; if you went back to Han or pre-Qin times, most of these would not apply.)

(I am one of the "atheist/agnostic by default" people. I just have an interest in this kind of stuff. I am also just one Chinese person, and an actual Daoist/Buddhist/Religion Studies researcher would probably have a lot more valuable information and perspective to offer when it comes to contemporary practices and worship. Like any people on the internet: take my words with a grain of salt.)

-Even in the past, when society was far less secularized, Chinese gods are not omniscient, perfect beings whose worship is a solemn, humorless affair. Some's worship are Serious Business, but that has more to do with the sort of gods they are and the patronage they enjoy, not godhood in and of itself.

-And even the ones that you are supposed to "treat seriously" are still very human. To use an analogy I've used plenty of times before: you respect and fear them in the same way you'd respect and fear an emperor's official, or the emperor himself, because if you don't, you are not gonna like the consequences.

-However, unlike Jesus, the emperor & his officials were capable of being temperamental, flawed, or an outright asshole, divine or not. Ideally, they wouldn't be, and if you were one of the "serious" believers——people who actually got an official permit, became ordained clergy, and went to live in a temple, you were unlikely to think of your gods in that manner.

-But it wasn't a complete, utter impossibility. The lower you go in the pantheon, the closer you get to popular religion, the less "serious" the gods and their worship become. By that, I mean general attitude, not sincerity of faith. You still shouldn't be rude to them, but, well, they are more likely to take a joke in stride, or participate in the "vulgar" pleasures of commoners because they weren't as bound to Confucian moral standards or religious disciplines.

-To stretch the same analogy further: you should still respect your village head, they could still give your ass a good spanking for being a disrespectful brat, but you were not obligated to get on your knees and kowtow to them like you would do in front of a provincial magistrate, the emperor's minister, or the emperor himself, nor did they have the power to chop your head off just because you were rude.

-On the other hand, the emperor would never visit a random peasant just to help them fix their broken plow or treat them to a nice meal, but your village head could, and your relationship would probably be warmer and a lot more personal as a result.

-Your respect for them was more likely to stem from the things they actually did for you and the village as a whole, instead of something owed to this distant, powerful authority you might never get to see in your lifetime, but could change its course with a single stroke of a brush.

-Now exchange "village head" for your run-of-the-mill Tudis and Chenghuangs and friendly neighborhood spirits (because yes, people worshipped yaoguais for the exact same reasons), emperor + his officials for the Celestial Bureaucracy, and you'd have a basic idea of how Chinese religions worked on the ground level.

-This is far from absolute: maybe your village head was a spiteful old bastard who loved bullying his juniors, maybe your regional magistrate was an honest, upright man who could enjoy a good drink and a good laugh, maybe the emperor was a lenient one and wouldn't chop your head off for petty offenses. But their general degree of power over you and the closeness of your relationships still apply.

-Complicating the matter further, some folk gods (like Wutong) were worshipped not because they brought blessings, but because they were the divine equivalent of gangsters running a protection racket: you basically bribed them with offerings so they'd leave you alone and not wreck your shit. Famous people who died violently and were posthumously deified often fell into this category——shockingly enough, Guan Yu used to be one such god!

-Yeah, kinda like how your average guy could become an official through the imperial examinations, so could humans become gods through posthumous worship, or cultivate themselves into immortals and Enlightened beings.

-Some immortals aren't qualified for, or interested in a position in the Celestial Bureaucracy——they are the equivalent of your hermits, your cloistered Daoist priests, your common literati who kept trying and failing the exams. But some do get a job offer and gladly take it.

-Anyways, back to my original point: that's why it's so absurd when people pull the "Respect Chinese Religion1!!1!" card and immediately follow up with "Would you do X to Jesus?"

-Um, there are a lot of things you can do with Chinese gods that I'm pretty sure you can't do with Jesus. Like worshipping him side by side with Buddha and Confucius (Lao Tzu). Or inviting him to possess you and drink copious amount of alcohol (Tang-ki mediums in SEA). Or genderbend him into a woman over the course of several centuries because folks just like that version of Jesus better (Guan Yin/Avalokitesvara).

-But most importantly, Chinese religions are kinda a "free market" where you could pick and choose between gods, based on their vicinity to you and how efficient they were at answering prayers. You respect them because they'll help you out, you aren't an asshole and know your manners, and pissing them off is a bad idea in general, not because they are some omnipotent, perfect beings who demand exclusive and total reverence.

-A lot of the worship was also, well, very "practical" and almost transactional in nature: leave offerings to Great Immortal Hu, and he doesn't steal your imperial seal while you aren't looking. Perform the rites right and meditate on a Thunder General's visage, and you can temporarily channel said deity's power. Get this talisman for your kids at Bixia Yuanjun's temple, and they'll be protected from smallpox.

-"Faith alone" or "Scripture alone" is seldom the reason people worship popular deities. Even the obsession with afterlife wasn't about the eternal destination of your soul, and more about reducing the potential duration of the prison sentence for you and your loved ones so you can move on faster and reincarnate into a better life.

-Also, there isn't a single "canon" of scriptures. Many popular gods don't show up in Daoist literature until much later. Daoist scriptures often came up with their own gigantic pantheons, full of gods no one had heard of prior to said book, or enjoyed no worship in temples whatsoever.

-In the same way famous dead people could become gods via worship, famous fictional characters could, too, become gods of folk religion——FSYY's pantheon was very influential on popular worship, but that doesn't mean you should take the novels as actual scriptures.

-Like, God-Demon novels are to orthodox Daoism/Buddhism what the Divine Comedy is to medieval Christian doctrines, except no priests had actually built a Church of Saint Beatrice, while Daoists did put FSYY characters into their temples. By their very nature, the worship that stemmed from these books is not on the same level of "seriousness" as, say, the Tiantai school of Buddhism and their veneration of the Lotus Sutra.

-At the risk of being guilty of the same insertion of Christianity where it doesn't belong: You don't cite Dante's Inferno in a theological debate, nor would any self-respecting pastor preach it to churchgoers on a Sunday.

-Similarly, you don't use JTTW or FSYY as your sole evidence for why something is "disrespectful to Chinese religion/tradition" when many practitioners of said religions won't treat them as anything more than fantasy novels.

-In fact, let's use Tripitaka as an example. The historical Xuanzang was an extraordinarily talented, faithful, and determined monk. In JTTW, he was a caricature of a Confucian scholar in a Buddhist kasaya and served the same narrative function as Princess Peach in a Mario game.

-Does the presence of satire alone make JTTW anti-Buddhist, or its religious allegories less poignant? I'd say no. Should you take it as seriously as actual Buddhist sutras, when the book didn't even take itself 100% seriously? Also no.

-To expand further on the idea of "seriousness": even outside of vernacular novels, practitioners are not beholden to a universal set of strict religious laws and taboos.

-Both Daoism and Buddhism had what we called "cloistered" and "non-cloistered" adherents; only the former needed to follow their religious laws and (usually) took a vow of celibacy.

-Certain paths of Daoist cultivation allow for alcohol and sexual activities (thanks @ruibaozha for the info), and some immortals, like Lv Dongbin, had a well-established "playboy" reputation in folklore.

-Though it was rarer for Buddhism and very misunderstood, esoteric variants of it did utilize sexual imageries and sex. And, again, most of the above would not apply if you weren't among the cloistered and ordained clergy.

-Furthermore, not even the worship of gods is mandatory! You could just be a Daoist who was really into internal alchemy, cultivating your body and mind in order to prolong your lifespan and, ideally, attain immortality.

-This idea of "respect" as…for a lack of better words, No Fun & R18 Stuff Allowed, you must treat all divinity with fearful reverence and put yourself completely at their mercy, is NOT the norm in Chinese religious traditions.

-There are different degrees and types of respect, and not every god is supposed to be treated like the Supreme Heavenly Emperor himself during an imperial ceremony; the gods are capable of cracking a joke, and so are we!

TL;DR: Religions are complicated, and you aren't respecting Chinese religions by acting like a stereotypical Puritan over popular Chinese deities and their fictional portrayals.

[krea2re]

im more annoying about this on twitter but iwtv fanartists have got to realize that louis is not that darkskinned. he's not darkskinned at all actually, jacob anderson is like. kind of hilariously lightskinned. this goes for (bailey) claudia too but since she is obviously lighter than louis people seem to recognize that a bit easier than they do for louis for some reason (but the problem still persists. it's just not as egregious because i rarely see depictions of her cross into darkskinned territory)

when youre a passive consumer of art and fanworks this can come off as more of a non-issue but when you're an artist depicting characters played by real people, it would do you good to stop and think about the choices you are making when you put pen to paper or tablet and colors to those drawings.

i know that likely a lot of artists go darker when depicting black characters or even lighterskinned black actors because of the general association of black person = darkskinned as well as out of a fear of possibly be perceived as whitewashing a figure if the values end up a bit off, but it is in fact still a colorist mindset to believe darker is better for someone who is not.

reiterating again that this is primarily about the depiction of LIVE ACTION CHARACTERS with real people

this is also a general plea for artists to stop drawing jacob, delainey, and bailey as random black person #73728

black features are not interchangeable and black features vary greatly if that wasn't obvious already from our cast. generalized depictions of black people in the spots of louis and claudia coupled with colorism ends up coming off as not only lazy but immensely disrespectful to the actors we are trying to depict. even moreso when people can easily nail lestats or even armands likenesses or put more effort into doing so, then on the other hand deliver unrecognizable louclaudias.

i also find it extremely outrageous seeing drawings where louis is noticeably darker than armand even after we got the line of claudia very specifically making a remark about armand being darker than louis.

i also implore non-artists and artists alike (especially if you are nonblack) to point out when they see stuff like this happen in fanarts. obviously in Good Faith and without Hostility or Dogpiling.

no excuse can reasonably prevent someone from trying to adapt a persons ethnic features into their own style. there is no excuse other than laziness or other deep-seated resentments one might avoid acknowledging.

ive seen people draw louis with MY skintone and below is a picture of me and jacob anderson to hopefully drive home the point of how egregious that kind of depiction of louis is in practice

flex^

[abookloverlmao]

THE GIRL IN THE SOCKS ON THE ROOF - JJ Maybank (part II)

Summary: You're in the wind, I'm in the water, Nobody's son, nobody's daughter. Y/N was nobody's daughter, hell she was uninterested in returning home after going missing with the Pogues. Wanting to go back to his arms- her will to live.

part 1: it took me a while! sorry y'all but here you have it<3

Warning: female!reader, triggering themes (mental health struggles, including references to self-harm, abusive dad, daddy issues, alcohol, drug, weed, swearing, angst, argument, shitty nicknames, bullying? etc. this will angsty as shit and fluffy, do not read if you don't want to! you have been warned, let me know what you think!

☆☆☆

If anyone dared to touch his Y/N, JJ will fucking murder them.

When Y/N and Kiara were unexpectedly kidnapped, an overwhelming fury consumed JJ. The thought of Y/N in danger fueled his hatred, and his temper flared as he grappled with the worry that gripped his heart.

Y/N had been by JJ's side through thick and thin, she not only inspired him in creating Poguelandia's flag but also joined him on hunting trips, despite her aversion to the idea of taking lives. 

"This is the ultimate dream, baby. Who needs rescuing from paradise?" JJ scoffed as he secured the rope, glancing at Y/N, who gazed at him with an adoring smile.

"No passports, just living the dream, surf trip, right?" she said, her eyes in the shape of hearts, tanned JJ was something, golden curls, his eyes more blue. The sight of her looking at him that way caused JJ's heart to race, so he averted his gaze, trying to regain composure.

"Ready?" he finally asked, his voice slightly husky, causing Y/N to clear her throat and stand, extending her hand towards him, "yes sir," she replied pulling him up before making her way towards the ocean, spear in hand.

"All right remember, watch your shadow, they see that, they're gone," he warned her as soon as their feet were on the water earning a nod from her and a gulp.

"Just like we practiced, Y/N," she nodded and held the spear with both hands, eyes studying the water for any fish, JJ tried not to stare, her tanned skin, her flushed cheeks thanks to the sun, how her exposed back muscles moved, her shorts soaked and she wore only sports bras, her shirt long forgotten.

"There's a skate, I can't- I really can't-" she cringed at the thought of stabbing the spear through the poor animal so he took action, "dang it! I missed it," he spun around hurriedly in search of the fish but the girl moved without a thought.

stabbing the spear while looking away, she caught it surprisingly, "you did it!" he exclaimed pulling her into a hug between laughs, "that's food in our bellies right there!"

and when Kiara dared him to jump off a mountain onto the sea, she was worried, "JJ don't, what if you drown like last time?" Y/N asked grabbing his wrist, still afraid about the last time when he got hit by the blunt of a machete and fell off the boat.

JJ paused, his excitement fading a little as he saw the genuine fear in her eyes, he understood her concern, the lingering trauma that had affected them both. 

Gently, he reached out and clasped her hand, offering a reassuring smile.

"Y/N, I know it's scary to think about what happened, but I've taken precautions this time. I've learned from my mistakes, it's just a dare," he assured her, his voice filled with determination, "I won't let anything happen to me. Trust me."

Y/N's grip on his wrist tightened, her worry mingling with a flicker of trust, she knew that JJ will never do such a thing to scare her, but she also knew that this boy was stubborn as fuck.

With a mix of apprehension and faith, she nodded reluctantly.

☆☆☆

Apparently, there was a history between Rafe Cameron and Y/N L/N, both were said to be caught in the corner of a party once, Rafe Cameron towering over her and her leaning back against the wall.

Saving Portis's life was a horrible idea, really, it was, Kiara got the idea and Y/N hated the thought of leaving her behind even if the girl sometimes can be a little mean.

JJ watched as Y/N raced between people on the bridge and slid down to hide under a boat with Kiara, their boots came in handy as the girls kicked the man in the face crawling out of their hiding spot.

A man got her arms and held them secure while another grabbed Kiara, she looked around in desperate search of JJ, the familiar blonde hair not once seen, nothing.

She sat on the back of the car in terror looking around for any of the Pogues, eyes focused on the ocean, under the bridge, nothing, she slumped back down and kept herself from attacking Portis in a fit of fury.

"We saved your life! That's what we get?" she snapped, her tone laced with righteous anger and disbelief, her entire body trembled with a mix of adrenaline and frustration, and her eyes locked onto Portis, daring him to respond.

"I'll try to help you, just do as they tell you," Portis said looking at her eyes, wildfire clear in them, "I will make you pay for this," she dropped back to sit beside a soaked Kiara, her grip on the girl tightened, her arm wrapping protectively around the trembling girl. 

She pulled Kiara closer, seeking solace in their shared strength. Their eyes remained fixed on the guards before them, sharp and piercing like daggers.

Pogue girls.

they were locked in a random mansion with guards surrounding them left and right, the windows locked, everything secure and made sure they don't escape, the closet was open revealing red silk dresses and a note "PICK YOUR SIZE" not even some pants or shirt, just fucking dresses.

The warm shower after a month of staying on an island felt amazing though, both the girls stayed each in there for a damn hour, Y/N overthinking of a way out and Kiara doing the same, sighing as the water ran down her back.

The dress was perfect however, and the girls looked like absolute angels, the red that reminded them of rich wine only kooks drank with their tanned skin absolutely perfect.

And seeing Rafe Cameron didn't make her feel any better, "you! I knew you and your father were behind this shit," she spoke storming towards the boy that is rumored to be talking to her- well was.

Rafe glared at her and took a step forward towards her, "What are you talking about? You trying to weasel in on my deal is that what's going on?" he asked pointing at himself, she scrunched her nose at him, hair still damp, "what? Are you hearing yourself? I think you became even more loco with the buzz cut-"

someone cut her off, a man with an accent, presenting himself as Carlos Singh, he apologized to the girls about the rough tactics in bringing them here and it made her raise an eyebrow, Kiara was studying the man up and down suspiciously.

She eyed Rafe and moved with Kiara behind Carlos taking a seat on the couch far from him, so this man talked about El Dorado for about an hour and she found herself getting annoyed every second especially when he pointed out that the three of them would find this island or whatever.

"I didn't listen to a word you just said, how much are you gonna keep philosophizing?" Y/N found herself agreeing with Rafe on something for once.

"you girls have a manuscript, a diary," she froze once Carlos's eyes landed on the girls, and she could feel the curly-haired girl by her side tense, "this is ridiculous, we don't have any diary," she spoke feeling Rafe's eyes on her.

"how else could you have learned that the cross was on the Royal Merchant?" he asked and Kiara replied, indicating that they couldn't help him even if they wanted to, which was a terrible idea.

"We have been glued on an island for a month, how do you think we will help you?" Y/N added watching as Rafe got up and was about to walk expecting that this was all a game, but a guard holding a rifle stood in front of him.

Y/N's heart raced as she watched the guard step in front of Rafe, blocking his path. The realization sank in that escaping this mansion and the clutches of Carlos Singh's operation would not be as simple as they had hoped.

She, Kiara, and Rafe were locked in a room, one day to find this diary and witnessed Portis get shot in front of them, who wouldn't be fucking terrified? Rafe grabbed her arm and turned her to face him holding her shoulder firmly, "don't bullshit me, this diary, do you have it?" he asked.

Y/N pushed him away with a look, fear could be seen in them, "does it look like I have it, Rafe, no." she snapped, her voice filled with defiance. 

She took a step back, her eyes scanning the room for any possible escape route. 

☆☆☆

Rafe had slept the night on the ground while she and Kiara were on the bed, well Y/N had stayed the night awake thinking just in case, she and the Cameron boy got into arguments, he tried to talk to her but she kept pushing him away from her, saying that she doesn't own him shit.

Walking down the stairs with the guard's hand gripping her arm, she stood in front of Carlos in her pajamas, "I lied. I know about the diary, I don't have the original but I can get you a copy, but... if I do this I need to go alone, with Kiara and I swear to you, I'll give you the diary and then you let us go," of course, everything will end like shit with this man.

Apparently, Portis sent a message from beyond the grave that he had captured JB and Sarah and then she was dragged up the stairs by the guard and thrown into the room.

"Get up- Carlos is heading to John B and Sarah- why is he crying?" she asked looking at Rafe with a frown, amusement twinkling in her eyes, "Peterkin, daddy issues," replied Kiara standing up and looking at her with wide eyes at the piece of information.

"oh my god.." she shook her head at the boy.

"He has a boat that could get us out of here," Kiara added staring out the window and gesturing to Rafe who tried to walk towards Y/N but stopped at her glare.

"Fine. This is our only chance of getting out, but that doesn't mean I trust you," she added still in the silk pajamas, hers were black instead of grey, Rafe nodded, "Fine. I get it," It did pain him that she doesn't trust him though.

but, the trio worked amazingly in being actors that's for sure, Y/N deserved an Oscar for screaming so loud and pretending to see Kiara dead, she "fought" with Rafe who threatened to "kill" her, and by that, she means yelling and throwing furniture around to pretend they were fighting, Rafe helped her lay on the bathtub and pretend to be dead.

Hand holding hers she slid into the bathtub, a leg and a hand out, not a move of her muscles.

As the guard entered the room, his eyes widened in shock at the sight before him. Kiara lay motionless, her vacant stare adding to the illusion of death. Y/N's boots peeking out from behind the bathtub and her arm hanging limply added to the grim scene.

Before the guard could fully process what he was witnessing, Rafe sprang into action, with a swift and forceful movement, he struck the guard with the door, causing him to stumble backward. Rafe continued landing powerful punches that disoriented the guard, rendering him unable to react effectively.

Seizing the opportunity, Kiara swiftly moved to secure the guard. She expertly used the curtains, swiftly and efficiently binding his hands to prevent any resistance. 

Y/N, her heart pounding with adrenaline, went for the gun, her voice was firm as she issued her orders, "Stay still! Don't make a move," Y/N commanded and he froze under Rafe.

With the guard now subdued and under their control, the trio had a fleeting moment of relief. They exchanged glances, acknowledging the success of their coordinated efforts. 

and with that, they raced down the stairs following Rafe, Kiara took the picture of El Dorado and the girls followed their friend's brother, racing down the garden and climbing a passing truck.

her grip tightened around the gun, she is holding a gun at the age of 17 for fuck's sake, she almost gave it to Rafe if it wasn't for him to throw the guy off the truck, she was shocked and the first thing that came to mind was what if he did it to her and Kiara.

Rafe kept an eye on her for the entire time, they don't talk anymore and she has every right to hate him, but he kept an eye out, and he's beginning to regret every bad thing he did to her.

he was going to do anything if anyone tried to hurt her, they may never be friends again but he will try at least.

she pushed the green cover off her and sat against the truck as soon as the patrol was over, inhaling and exhaling she looked around, "I told you we just had to work together." not once did she glance at him nor Kiara did.

"All right. Listen, I'm headed out to my boat, okay? I can give you a ride out, drop both of you wherever somewhere safe. One thing though." Kiara looked at him with a frown while Y/N stared out in worry.

"Y/N look at me." with a clenched jaw she turned towards him, "I know your friends are on the island and my sister. I'm not helping them. All right? I can't trust them, okay? I'll give you a ride out, not them."

she stayed silent for a while before nodding, "I just want to get off the island," Rafe turned towards Kie who nodded as well still trying to catch her breath, "Same here."

"That's smart," he said and Y/N rolled her eyes, he really thought I was gonna leave my friends behind. JJ? her mind went back to the handsome blonde, is he alright? did he get caught by Singh?

running a hand through her hair in frustration, pushing it away from her face she leaned back, inhaling and exhaling to keep her anxiety down before she has a mental breakdown.

She could hear Rafe talk to Kie about how he always liked her and that she's at least half Kook, Y/N scoffed, "Half Kook, is it a nationality or something?" 

Rafe fought the urge to roll his eyes, "do you have to be sarcastic every time?" he asked making her turn towards him in annoyance, "Do you have to be such a jerk every time?" Y/N retorted, her voice filled with frustration.

Rafe looked taken aback for a moment before his expression hardened. "I'm not the one who brought a gun to a patrol, Y/N," he said, his voice cold.

Y/N bristled at the accusation, "I only brought the gun because I didn't trust you to keep us safe, as if you didn't hold a gun many times and aimed it at me," she said, her voice rising.

Rafe shook his head, looking exasperated. "You don't trust anyone, Y/N. That's the problem," he said, his voice tinged with annoyance, she didn't say another word, way too tired to argue.

"After what you have done to me, I will never trust you," Kiara watched them back and forth, "I did you a solid," he replied staring ahead, "You told everyone that we fucked, told everyone about my relationship with my father, and... you tried to kill Kie and aimed a gun at me." said Y/N.

Rafe tried to say something, but couldn't, so he closed his mouth.

Soon she hopped off the truck and landed beside Kiara with a thud, "Come on. My boat's down here." both the girls followed him towards a white big boat.

"Make sure your shoes are off. both of you." he ordered and the girls stood still, "Okay, we should have enough juice to get us to Saint Lucia, no problem." 

he noticed them still standing there, "Hey, get in the boat, Y/N! Kie!" he exclaimed watching them intensely, Kie spoke, "You're not gonna pull anything if we get in?" she asked the boy who sighed in vexation.

"No, I'm not gonna pull anything, okay? I'm trying to do you a solid here. You really wanna be back there with Singh, or do you wanna be somewhere safe? Now can one of you help me with the bowline?"

they finally did as told, Y/N kept her socks on as she climbed the boat, "Go help him with the bowline, I'll check around," Kiara nodded and the girl immediately moved around.

the sound of grunting caught her attention and Y/N raced outside, Kiara jumped on the boat and Y/N ran towards the railing seeing Rafe in the water, "oh shit!" she exclaimed looking at Kiara with wide eyes.

The girl started the boat and immediately took control, Rafe yelled and called out for the girls, and for the first time in a while, she felt a pang in her heart.

she felt bad but she had nothing to do, she had to save the Pogues.

"Kie! Where are you going?!" he exclaimed making her wince and look at him with a scrunched nose, "I've gotta help my friends!" yelled Kiara and the boat started moving.

"You don't know what you're doing! Hey!" he panted and threw his arms around, "Shit! I'll find you, Kie! I'll find you! you're both gonna regret this shit. Y/N! You're done!"

she gulped, "I'm sorry!" she yelled back turning around and making her way up to stand beside Kiara, "don't you think that's a little too far?" she asked the brown-haired girl who looked back at the boy, "maybe. please send them our location."

The girl nodded taking the phone and looking back at poor struggling Rafe, it's a bit too far, isn't it? She thought.

Y/N couldn't help but feel guilty as she watched Rafe struggling in the water. She knew that leaving him behind was harsh, but she also knew that she had to help her friends.

As Kiara drove the boat towards their destination, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of unease, she didn't know what was going to happen next, but she knew that they were in for a rough ride, what if Carlos found them again and this time he kills her.

"Are you okay?" Kiara asked, breaking the silence.

Y/N nodded, her mind still racing, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... worried about what's going to happen next," she said, her voice filled with uncertainty.

"Do you have that gun?" asked Kiara again, Y/N nodded and pulled out the gun from behind her, "we are definitely going to jail," sighed the girl, "hey, it's just for protection."

"Yeah..."

With that they fell silent, the boat racing towards their destination, gun at the ready, waiting for the teenagers to appear, Kiara wrapped her arm around Y/N's shoulders and the girl stared ahead.

"I'm sorry...if I suspected you, I shouldn't have been harsh on you," started Kiara glancing at Y/N who threw herself on the chair in tiredness, her heart still hammering against her chest.

"Its fine, I get it Kie," she smiled at her and tapped the location on the screen, before putting her phone by her side and closing her eyes, "I would've done the same." Kiara smiled brightly and laughed.

"We will end up in jail one day, girl," she spoke making her laugh, "definitely, I regret leaving that dress back though, it was so pretty," Kiara nodded in agreement, "so sexy,"

***

Y/N leaned against the fence, thinking about everything, her finger tapped anxiously against the railing as she waited until the sight of a blue shirt and familiar blonde hair caught her eyes.

She frowned, who is he? why was he looking around? As soon as the boy turned around and his eyes caught Y/N, she froze, like time stopped and nothing mattered only their eyes meeting one another's.

The hues of E/C mixing in with the blue and the hint of turquoise, sharp features, pink cheeks thanks to the sun.

"JJ?" she called jumping off and racing down the small stairs trying not to slip, the boy was completely frozen, "JJ." she ran and the boy finally walked, every muscle in his body easing.

She threw herself on him, his strong arms wrapped around her so tightly as he pulled her to his body even closer, she ran her hand through his hair, tears blurring her vision.

"Y/N," JJ breathed out in the crook of her neck, lips brushing against her delicate skin, his voice filled with relief, she pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes, hand reaching to cup his cheek lovingly.

"Wow! I didn't think I'd see you ever again." she said her voice trembling but there was that beautiful smile on her lips, JJ tilted his head with a smile and studied her with his grip not once leaving her, "Yeah, but I'm here now. Okay? It's all right. It's all right." he said pulling her again towards him.

Her arms wrapped around him so tightly, JJ never wanted to pull away, her lips ghosting on his neck was inexpressible, JJ felt his heart racing as Y/N's lips brushed against his neck, sending shivers down his spine.

He had missed her so much, and he couldn't believe that she was finally here with him, worry ate him alive the past day when she wasn't by his side, and now he was cherishing the moment they were finally reunited.

They stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, finding solace in the embrace.

"I can't believe you're here," Y/N murmured, her voice filled with a mix of joy and disbelief, "I thought... I thought I had lost you." JJ's grip tightened around her, and his voice was soft as an angel, "I'm here, Y/N. I'm not going anywhere," he reassured her, and he was right, he was never going to leave her ever again, he wasn't going to let someone take her from him.

"We'll get through this together."

JJ's smile widened, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear from Y/N's cheek, he didn't care about anything but holding her to him, god he loved her.

and then after a hot minute of staring into one another's eyes, he finally pulled away as the others rushed over, JJ finally pulled away and as soon as her hand left his cheek he felt that coldness come back and then he hugged Kiara.

Sarah was on the verge of tears when she came to Y/N, she pulled her into a bear-crushing hug one that made the girl gasp for breath but she didn't complain.

"I was scared you and Kie got hurt," she said with a smile on her lips, Y/N smiled at her friend and kissed her forehead before hugging John B, Pope, and Cleo.

"I'm a Pogue, girly, me and Kie never get hurt," and of course, John B decided to be stupid, apparently the church bell ringing was the same one his dad used to ring to call him home.

Because as soon as he left, Carlos's men appeared and started shooting and if it wasn't Kiara starting the boat one would've gotten shot certainly, JJ was yet again exploding with anger as they left the island and if it wasn't JB calling, and telling them to go back to Outer Banks the boy would've drove himself mad that's for sure.

Kiara went down with the others to rest after a whole day of chaos, there was surprisingly a shower in the boat, that was how rich Rafe is, while JJ went to take a shower after Pope and Cleo were done, Sarah was sitting by Y/N's side overthinking.

"you're overthinking again," started Y/N keeping her eyes glued in front of her, Sarah snapped out of it and smiled at her friend, "Yeah, I guess I can't help it sometimes," Sarah admitted with a sheepish smile, leaning back against the wall of the boat. "There's just so much going on, and I can't help but worry, i'm worried about John B."

Y/N turned to face Sarah, her expression filled with empathy. "I understand," she said softly, reaching out to place a comforting hand on Sarah's arm, "It's natural to feel overwhelmed in situations like this. We're in this together babe, and your boyfriend found gold once, nothing bad will happen to that guy." she chuckled softly.

"I mean, look at the adventures we've been through with him. We always manage to find a way, even when the odds seem impossible. And with John B leading the charge, it's bound to be one hell of a journey." it was true, this was all because of John B.

Sarah smiled at the girl's words and wrapped her arms around her shoulder pulling her into a hug, "thank you for everything," she whispered kissing her friend's forehead, "Anything for you." and with their arms linked, silence fell.

"so what's going between you and JJ, you think I haven't noticed the heart eyes," started Sarah nudging her friend who stared ahead as if she didn't hear her, "You know how JJ is. He's just being JJ," she replied cheeks burning red.

Sarah raised an eyebrow skeptically, not buying Y/N's attempt at brushing off the topic, "Uh-huh, just JJ being JJ, huh?" she said, her tone filled with playful sarcasm, "I've seen the way you two look at each other. There's definitely something more going on."

Y/N couldn't help but smile, her gaze softening as she glanced at Sarah, "Okay, fine," she admitted, shaking her head softly and keeping her hand on the steering wheel, "Maybe there's something between us. It's hard not to feel a connection with someone when you've been through so much together."

Sarah's smile widened, her eyes twinkling with mischief, "I knew it!" she exclaimed, squealing so loudly that she had to put her hand over the girl's mouth, "hush you!" Sarah moved her head away and beamed. 

"You guys are adorable together. I ship it!"

and then JJ appeared, ruffling his blonde hair with a towel and he frowned at the girls, "Ship who?" Y/N pinched Sarah's side just as the girl opened her mouth to answer, urging her to keep her mouth shut.

Sarah winced at the pinch but quickly caught on, suppressing her laughter and keeping her lips sealed.

JJ furrowed his brow at the exchange, his curiosity piqued as he approached the two girls, "What's going on?" he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion, "You guys seem like you're up to something."

Y/N flashed JJ a sweet smile, trying to maintain her composure. "Oh, nothing," she replied casually, her voice innocent. "Just girl talk, you know?"

Sarah nodded vigorously, feigning seriousness. "Yeah, just some girl talk," she chimed in, her eyes dancing with mischief.

JJ's frown deepened, clearly not convinced by their response but didn't insist, "I'll leave you guys together~" with that Sarah disappeared down the stairs while wiggling her eyebrows behind JJ.

JJ watched Sarah disappear down the stairs, a bemused expression on his face as he caught a glimpse of her mischievous eyebrow wiggle. He shook his head with a chuckle, turning his attention back to Y/N.

"Well, that was interesting," JJ remarked, a playful glint in his eyes. "I wonder what she's up to."

Y/N shrugged, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Who knows with Sarah," she replied, her voice filled with amusement, "She's always full of surprises." He nodded and took a seat.

She stared at the sea and glanced at JJ, “you certainly know the way to Outer Banks right…?” she said awkwardly pushing herself slightly to the side, the boy shook his head and stood up looking for a map.

He examined it and then around, “yes ma’am, just head right straight up to the sun, we’ll reach at almost night fall,” she shook her head at his orders and did as told, saluting him with a grin on her lips.

They stayed silent, it was never quiet between them so this wasn’t usual, he stood by her side, always taller and shielding her from the world, even if she wasn’t that short, he was a giraffe, growing every day probably.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” he finally spoke, making her turn to him in confusion, she furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head to the side, she always did that when she was confused, sometimes scrunched her nose as well.

“Rafe.” He uttered his name like it was poison, if eyes could kill; poor Rafe would be dead all the way from Barbados.

She chuckled softly and lifted her silk top revealing the gun, “now if he did I wouldn’t have this now, would I?” she said sarcastically, and JJ swore he fell in love right there and then, his girl had a mother fucking gun.

Innocent and sweet Y/N from about 8 months ago was no longer there, this was Y/N mother fucking Maybank, god his last name fit perfectly with her.

“Atta girl, now that’s what I am talking about,” he added putting his back against hers and pointing his gun playfully, back when he was young, he and John B used to do it with those army plastic toys from Walmart (or make some using paper) and now he is doing it with his lover with real guns.

“That’s some John Wick shit, right there!” he exclaimed, Y/N took her own gun and pointed it around, partners in crime, she felt like Black Widow for fuck’s sake, this was dangerous, but danger can be fun.

They both laughed but she suddenly spoke, “hey it’s better we throw it away in the ocean, cops will investigate here and then us once we’re there,” she said throwing the gun in the sea, it had a single bullet anyways.

JJ kept his and looked at it longingly, “is there no damn camera?” he asked looking around and then she looked around, “look at the drawers,” she suggested turning back to the wheel, JJ looked around and after a good 10 minutes, a polaroid camera caught his eye, it had the initials “W.C”

Wheezie Cameron.

They both gave one another bright wicked smiles and she grabbed the camera, “pose mister Wick,” she said pulling the camera closer and closing one eye, snapping a picture of JJ grinning like an idiot while holding the gun with both hands showing his dimples, she laughed and took another one, one where he was more serious.

“It’s perfect,” she said with a smile holding the polaroid in hand, JJ scrunched his nose and shook his head trying to grab them, “absolutely not. Usually I would say no shit Sherlock but-“ She elbowed him cutting him off.

“They’re not yours at all, they’re mine” she said with a matter of fact tone putting the picture in her pocket, JJ hated how his cheekbones turned red and the way he stared at her, oh so lovingly, his heart suddenly started hammering against his chest in a speed of light, like it always did when he was with her.

They say that back then, a star used to lead a captain’s way on the ship, or whatever, JJ sucked at history, got an F in his last exam, hell he was surprised he didn't get a -F, if that even existed, only good date he managed to have right was when was the Fourth of July.

Ironic. heh, forth of july, the day he held her on a random rooftop.

And if it was true, then she was his star, his star girl, pretty E/C eyes, H/C hair, tanned skin, rosy cheeks due to the rays of sun and their stay in the island, and the salty water made her skin glow.

Fucking hell he wanted to kiss her, so so badly.

JJ looked away and grabbed the camera, snapping a picture of her staring ahead, and she noticed of course, raising an eyebrow at him so his first instinct was to beam innocently at her and sneakily take the picture that came out, “at least take a good picture,” she said in amusement.

He was surprised, for a second he thought she was going to yell at him until her words caught him off guard, “deal,” he said gesturing her to turn around, putting on the fake act of a professional photographer, classic JJ.

She leaned against the wheel and fixed her clothes, hair and then looked at him reassuringly, tilting her head to the side and JJ swore he was about to fucking faint, and he wasn't being dramatic. the sun kissing her skin and making her look like an angel descending from heaven, that for a second he sat there, admiring.

And after snapping out of thoughts, he took a picture, and as she waited for it to appear, he stared, lips pursed tightly and he swallowed, and once it did and she towered over his kneeling form, her hair fell around her like curtains that she pushed it away with a frustrated groan.

His eyes fell on her lips, a single move is all he needed, if he lifted himself just a little bit, he can capture her lips then-

“it’s cute, I guess, I look a damn duck but whatever,” she said pushing herself away with a chuckle, JJ didn’t know what to say, she was perfect, in every way, in so many ways that he couldn’t describe it all, his stare could, it did and that was why the tips of her ear burned red.

"you're not a duck,"

And as he rose to his feet, the boat suddenly moved and he went to her, his hand automatically went to hold her waist and pull her to him just as she was about to fall back, his other hand went to grip the wheel and his body pressed against hers in a matter of seconds.

Her hand gripping his shoulder in fear to fall and humiliate herself in front of her crush, the other on his chest, right on top of his hammering heart that she could feel it thunder against her palm, his hand though, right on her waist, his fingertips right on the spot where her skin was a little revealed making every hair in her body rise.

Her blood ran hot and they both stared at each other, absolutely love-struck, eyes in the shape of hearts and heart beating in sync, getting louder and louder in their ears, her chest went up and down as the air suddenly left.

And she swore she noticed him lean in, tilting his head slightly to the side and she moved as well, eyes dropping to his lips and then went up to his eyes- is it happening? Is it finally happening?

His nose bumped hers, the faintest brush of his lower lip on her upper one and she took a leap of faith to press her lips against his, hey, god was with her and giving her a sign might as well take it.

JJ didn't even hesitate to put a hand on her nape and pull her closer spinning so she leaned against the wheel, her eyes fluttered shut and wrapped an arm around his neck pulling him down so she could land back on the balls of her feet as her heart skipped yet another beat, her pulse drumming with each passing second.

The world around them seemed to vanish, the only sound left was the gentle splash of the water against the boat, the waves mirroring the rhythm of their kiss—soft, tentative at first, then JJ parted her lips with his own, deepening the kiss as if they were drawn into each other by some magnetic force.

JJ's fingers adorned by rings right on her nape and moving to hold her as he stepped closer to tower over her causing her to use her arm and pull him closer, parting her lips.

"oh shit-" someone breathed out causing her to freeze, JJ pulled away and looked back, there stood Pope, he gave them finger guns and left in a hurry.

"Uhm, well that was," started Y/N lips rosy thanks to him, "great," she shook her head turning to the wheel and tried not to smile like an idiot, "you should go see him."

"yeah I should- this shithead-" he said in frustration before turning to Y/N, "I'm not done with you, Stargirl."

"yeah I'm sure, fuck off, Starboy," she flipped him off. Yeah she'll be damned if she regrets it just because Pope stepped in, not he will never make out with Cleo? she will bet a hundred dollars once in outer banks, he damn will.

****

Author note: guess what bitches? I got my computer back, feeding you hoes with JJ, my beloved husband, oh and I still haven't watched season 4 so I beg don't spoil. I hope you enjoyed it my lovely babies<333333 Thank you so much for the likes on every single thing I wrote, I appreciate it so much, miss you all and let me know what you think.

There will be a Part 3, just currently focusing more on my book so, but I'll make sure you guys got it!

special hashtag to these pookies (who likely hate my ass for not posting in so long, sorry homies don't burn my house<3): @loves0phelia , @nirvanalivesdilfs , @thekidscallmebosss , @@ladyinbl00d , @talyaaas-blog

ly.

[babydollshifter]

What do you actually need rn ?

PILE 1:

the star , the tower reversed , page of cups

You need hope. Like, real, heart-sparkling, “things will get better” kind of hope. This card is that sweet breath after crying, that soft whisper that says keep going. You’re yearning for healing, clarity, and to feel inspired again—probably after some emotional chaos or confusion. You wanna feel connected to your true self, not just going through the motions. You might be lowkey dodging a big shift or revelation. Maybe there's a change that needs to happen, but you're gripping to the old out of fear of the unknown. Reversed, this says you're delaying the crumble, but deep down… you know the foundation is shaky. Time to let something fall so something real can be built. (Don’t worry, it’s not all doom—it’s liberation in disguise.) This little dreamboat is telling you to open up your heart again—be curious, imaginative, even a little delusional in the best way. Allow softness back into your world. Be willing to feel, even if it’s messy. There’s something new emotionally peeking around the corner—a connection, idea, or creative spark—and you need to be open and playful to catch it.

PILE 2

4 of wands, ace of wands , knight of cups

Stability and joy, babe. You’re craving a sense of belonging, celebration, and real-ass connection. This card screams: “Let’s romanticize our lives with people who get us.” You might be needing a break from stress and just want that warm, safe, found-family kind of vibe. Maybe even a literal celebration or milestone moment. You want to feel proud and at home in your skin—and in your world.You’re being offered passion, new ideas, fresh purpose, a burst of creativity. Think: a project, a crush, an adventure, or even just that hot little glimmer of “I wanna LIVE again.” Something new wants to be born, but it needs you to act on it.You’re being called to lean into your dreamy, poetic, artistic self. Flirt with life. Be bold with your feelings. Let yourself chase what makes your heart flutter, even if it’s not “practical.” This knight follows beauty and love and isn’t afraid to make a grand entrance. You’re being nudged to move from the heart, not the head.

PILE 3

the fool , the magician reversed , 10 of swords

You need a fresh freaking start. Like, “drop the baggage, pack your heart, and leap” kind of start. You need freedom, adventure, trust. You’re being pulled toward something new, even if you have no idea how it’ll turn out. And maybe that’s the point—you’re ready to believe in the unknown again. You need lightness. Play. Hope. The chance to begin again without fear. You’re forgetting your power. You might be doubting yourself—thinking you don’t have what it takes, or that you’ve lost your spark. Maybe you’ve been trying to control things too much or have been lowkey manifesting from fear, not faith. The truth? You have the tools—you’re just not trusting yourself to use them. Stop thinking you’re not ready. You are. You’ve been through it—betrayal, burnout, heartbreak, maybe even self-sabotage. Something has ended (or needs to). It’s done. Over. But here’s the thing: the worst is behind you. The sun is literally rising in this card. You just need to stop dragging the dead weight. Let the pain go. Let the version of you that was hurting… rest.

[mimble-sparklepudding]

Ship and OC Relationship Creative Process Ask List.

I am still pondering how best to approach some sort of "ship" for one of my OCs, but it's proving to be quite the challenge to wrap my head around. So what better way to learn more about how other people approach the topics of sex and relationships with their characters than to put together a little Ask List. Not just focussed on ships between OCs and canon characters, but also open to relationships between your OCs - or your OC and someone else's OC (or OCs, as we are all very polyamory inclusive around here).

Did you create your OC with a plan to ship them with a specific character or another OC? Or was their relationship something that evolved all by itself?

How important is your OCs relationship(s) to their story? Would it still make sense without it? Or is their connection to this other character integral to their development?

Were there any barriers to you establishing your OCs relationship? Perhaps social or cultural stigma? Or a concern that "ships" with that character were already overdone? Or simply a fear of being seen as "cringe"? If so then how did you overcome this?

How graphic or explicit are your explorations of sexual interactions involving your OC? Do you happily name body parts and actions? Or do you prefer to leave the mechanical details to the imagination?

If your OC's relationship involves a gender or orientation different to your own then how confident did you feel about exploring or writing this? If your OC and the character(s) with whom they are in a relationship are the same as you in terms of gender/orientation then was this a conscious decision?

How easy do you find it to write (or otherwise portray) non-sexual affection between characters? This might include terms of endearment, "pet-names", descriptions of cuddling or stroking the other's head in their lap etc.

How important is other people's investment in (or enthusiasm for) your character's relationship? Was this a consideration when you were planning it? Have you ever changed a character's relationship(s) due to other people's response to it?

To what degree do you use your OC as a means to explore your own romantic proclivities (or shortcomings)? Is your OC a self-insert and the relationship a form of wish-fulfilment and/or an means to explore certain fantasies? Or do you enjoy exploring something completely different to your own experiences and preferences?

How confident are you in writing about or otherwise portraying kissing between characters? Did this take practice? How much detail is enough? How much is too much?

Is it important to include tension or outright areas of conflict in a relationship? If so then how do you explore these? Or does this not appeal to you?

Does it matter to you how many other people also ship their OC with a particular character? Would this make it more likely that you will compare your material to theirs? Or does this not enter into your thinking?

How much does your OC's background and origin affect their approach to relationships? Are there specific insecurities or preferences that lead on from their past?

How easy do you find it to write romantic (or sexual) dialogue for your OC? If they are in a relationship with a canon character then how difficult is it to keep these interactions faithful to their established character and communication style?

How do you feel about answering questions about your characters sexual/romantic activities or preferences in character?

Did you build up to your OC being in their relationship? Or did you put them into it quite quickly and then filled in the background in retrospect.

Is there a relationship between characters in another setting that particularly inspired you? What is it about this portrayal that you enjoy?

Does it matter whether other people consider your OC sexually attractive? Did this inform your thinking when you were creating them? Also was it important that you put them in a relationship with a character who is generally considered "attractive"?

Do you have specific music that makes you think about your OCs relationship?

Do you have a sense of how your OCs relationship will evolve in the future? Or is it quite a fixed in terms of dynamics and story?

Is it easy to write or otherwise portray other characters (or OCs) reactions to your OCs relationship? Are these interactions important to your characters story? For example, is the relationship one that can be publically acknowledged?

How important is it that your OCs relationship is "realistic" for the setting in terms of the characters values and attitudes? Or are you happy to explore psychological or sexual issues that might more reflect contemporary concerns?

Do you consider your OC to be sexually attractive? Or pretty/handsome? Would you still be able to write about their relationship if you didn't?

What is something you feel you have improved at in terms of portraying sexual or romantic relationships?

How do you feel about people producing fanart of your character's relationship or ship? If this were NSFW would you want to be asked first?

Other than your own characters' relationships, can you give an example of someone who is particularly good at writing or otherwise portraying romantic and/or sexual relationships? What is it about their work that really stands out for you?

Have you given much consideration to specific "kinks" or sexual likes and dislikes for your character? If so then is this something you feel comfortable talking about or describing?

Is there a particular "trope" for relationships that you especially enjoy - e.g. enemies to lovers etc - and is this something that you set out intending to explore?

Is there something you historically felt (or still feel) awkard about describing in terms of your character's relationships? Whether sexual acts, bodyparts, pillow talk, romantic declarations or using the "L word". How did you overcome this (if you ever have)?

What makes a scene or situation "romantic" in your opinion? Is this something you find easy to portray?

What advice do you have for someone considering creating a ship for their character? Or for someone unsure about writing relationships and/or sexual scenarios?

When portraying romantic or sexual scenarios involving your OC, do you aim to inspire a particular response in the reader or viewer? Whether a warm fuzzy feeling, or getting really quite turned on (or possibly both)?

If you ship your OC with a particular canon character, then what was it about that character that drew you to them? Is it that you have a certain "type" when it comes to shipping? Or did you surprise yourself with who you felt drawn towards? If your OC is in a relationship with another OC then did you change any aspects of either of their backstories or personalities to make this work?

To what degree is your OC a self-insert, particularly in terms of their relationship? Do you sometimes use your character's relationship to explore your own feelings about a canon character or another OC?

How confident are you in writing angst or portraying conflict or tension within a relationship? Or is this something you avoid? If so is this because it doesn't much interest you? Or because you're unsure how to approach it?

Is there a way in which your portrayal of your character's relationship subverts the reader or viewer's expectations? Was this deliberate?

How do you ensure that the dialogue (or other portrayal) of a canon character is true to their personality and (more importantly) way of speaking? Do you spend time studying their "official" dialogue in order to get it sounding authentic? Or did it just come naturally?

What is something you try to avoid - or think everyone should try to avoid - when portraying sex and/or relationships with their characters?

What is your favourite depiction of romance (or sex if you prefer) that you have produced? Or if you haven't produced one yet, then what is your favourite example from another creator?

What, if any, is your biggest source of fear or anxiety when it comes to writing or otherwise portraying romantic or sexual scenarios?

What is something that your friends or mutuals could do to support and encourage you when it comes to your creativity around your OCs relationship(s)?

[moomuzan]

— 𝖇𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖍𝖚𝖘𝖍

they cheat on you?! dazai , chuuya , akutagawa x gn! reader , angst , requested

@vasarii

He had always been a master of deception, a man who wore his masks so seamlessly that sometimes he forgot which face was his own. Dazai Osamu laughed easily, charmed effortlessly, and lied without hesitation, building a labyrinth of half-truths that no one could ever navigate. Lies had become his armor, shielding him from the weight of existence, from the vast and gaping chasm inside him that he dared not confront. But with you, there had been no lies. At least, not in the beginning.

Unrelenting and uncontainable — You were light, spilling into every dark corner of his being with a softness that felt almost cruel. You loved him with a purity that left him raw, vulnerable in ways he had long forgotten how to endure. He had clung to your warmth, to the way you laughed like the world hadn’t yet broken you, to the way you looked at him as though he were worth saving.

But even the brightest light casts shadows.

The affair wasn’t planned; it wasn’t born of desire or need, but rather of restlessness—a momentary lapse, a fleeting distraction, something so meaningless it should have slipped from his mind as quickly as it came. And yet, its weight lingered. He felt it now, sitting across from you at the breakfast table, your laughter cutting through the morning air as you recounted a story he couldn’t focus on.

“You’re not listening, are you?” you teased, tilting your head with that playful grin that always seemed to unravel him.

Blinking, Dazai startled, before forcing a smile that felt too tight on his face. “Of course I am,” he replied, his voice as smooth and practiced as ever.

But even as you laughed, even as you returned to your story, he could feel the suffocating pull of the truth, the invisible thread of guilt tightening around his throat. You didn’t know. That was the cruelest part. You trusted him with a faith so complete it bordered on recklessness. You believed him to be something he wasn’t—someone steady, someone honest, someone capable of being the man you thought you saw when you looked at him.

And Dazai, selfish as always, had let you.

That evening, he sat on the couch, watching as you danced around the small apartment, your energy so infectious that it almost made him forget the ache in his chest. Almost. You were humming along to a song on the radio, spinning lazily as though the world held no weight, as though love were simple and unbreakable and eternal.

“Dance with me!” you called, reaching for his hands with a smile that could have lit up the darkest of nights.

Letting him pull you to his feet, his hands settled on your waist as you swayed together, your laughter bubbling like a melody only the two of you could hear. For a moment, he let himself forget. He let himself believe that this was enough—that he could hold you, love you, and bury the shadows that threatened to consume him.

But then you leaned closer, your voice soft, your gaze so earnest it was almost unbearable. “I love you,” you said, and there was no hesitation in your words, no fear, no doubt. “I love you so much.”

Dazai’s chest tightened, his breath catching in his throat. He wanted to tell you he loved you too, wanted to pour every fractured piece of himself into those words, but they stuck somewhere deep inside him, tangled in the lies and the guilt and the unbearable weight of what he had done.

Instead, he held you tighter, burying his face in your hair as he tried to keep himself from unraveling completely. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your fingers brushing gently against his cheek. “Don’t say that.“

It was the cruelest irony of all—that you loved him for who he was, even though who he was had betrayed you. You saw a version of him that didn’t exist, a man unbroken by the weight of his own darkness, untainted by the cracks that ran so deep he couldn’t see the bottom of them himself.

Later that night, after the world had quieted and you had fallen asleep beside him, Dazai lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The stillness of the room pressed down on him, and his thoughts began to spiral, long and unbroken, like the slow descent of a stone into a bottomless abyss. He thought of you, curled against him, your face soft and peaceful in sleep, your hand resting lightly on his chest as though he were the anchor that kept you steady. And he thought of her—the other person—the fleeting moments, the hollow intimacy, the meaninglessness of it all.

It wasn’t love. It wasn’t even desire. It was an escape—a desperate attempt to outrun the fear that gripped him whenever he thought of how much you meant to him. You were his light, his tether, his salvation, and it terrified him. Because love was fragile, and Dazai had always been the kind of man who broke the things he held too tightly.

The guilt gnawed at him, relentless and unyielding, an ache that went deeper than anything physical. And yet, he couldn’t tell you. He couldn’t destroy the fragile illusion of happiness you had built around him, couldn’t bear to see your face fall, to see the light in your eyes dim. You deserved the truth, but he was too much of a coward to give it to you.

Instead, he turned to face you, his gaze lingering on your sleeping form. You trusted him. You loved him. And in that moment, he hated himself more than he ever had before. Because no matter how much he longed to keep you safe from the jagged edges of his soul, he knew he had already cut you, even if you didn’t yet feel the sting.

But you stayed.

You stayed, even though he didn’t deserve it. Even though you had no idea what you were staying for.

And as the darkness pressed in around him, Dazai realized that maybe that was the most painful truth of all—not that he had betrayed you, but that he could never love you as selflessly as you loved him. And yet, he would stay, too. He would stay in the warmth of your light, even as it burned away the edges of his soul, because he was too selfish to let you go and too broken to let you see the truth.

So he held you closer, his lips brushing the top of your head in a silent apology you would never hear, and prayed to whatever gods still listened that you would never know the depth of his betrayal. Because even if he couldn’t be the man you deserved, he would try. He would try, for as long as you stayed, even if it killed him.

,

It wasn’t supposed to happen.

Chuuya had built his life on loyalty, on unyielding principles that had always kept him steady. Betrayal was something he despised, something he swore he’d never allow himself to commit. But here he was, a traitor to the one person who had only ever given him love.

And you knew.

When he walked through the door that evening, you greeted him with the same soft smile that always warmed the air between you. “You’re back,” you said, voice so tender it felt like a blade against his chest. You stepped toward him, your arms wrapping around him in that familiar way, and he hated the stiffness in his body, the guilt that coiled tighter every time you touched him.

He knew you could feel it too.

Bitter and sour, it was there in the way your smiles never quite reached your eyes anymore, in the pause that came before you said, “I love you.” You had noticed the perfume that wasn’t yours, the late nights that came with stammered excuses, the way he avoided meeting your gaze.

And yet, somehow, you stayed.

That night, Chuuya sat at the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, his thoughts drowning in the silence that settled heavy in the room. Your footsteps were soft as you padded into the bedroom, the faint glow of the kitchen light framing your silhouette.

“Are you okay?” you asked quietly, your voice laced with a gentleness he didn’t deserve.

Flinching at the sound, his hands tightened against his knees. “Yeah,” he muttered, but the lie felt hollow even as he spoke it.

Weighing the feelings inside, you crossed the room and knelt in front of him, your hands finding his. “You don’t have to lie to me, Chuuya,” you said, your voice trembling just enough to break him further.

He finally looked at you, the guilt burning behind his eyes. “You knew,” he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his shame. “You’ve known, haven’t you?”

Your gaze didn’t falter, though your eyes shone with unshed tears. “Yes,” you admitted, barely audible.

Thick with everything unsaid, the air between you was suffocating. He wanted to apologize, to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness, but what could he say? What could he possibly do to fix the damage he’d caused?

But then, you smiled. Soft, sad, and so full of love it made his chest ache. “I don’t care,” you whispered, your fingers brushing lightly against his face. “I don’t care about her. I don’t care what you’ve done.”

“Don’t say that,” he rasped, his voice breaking. “You shouldn’t—”

“I love you, Chuuya,” you interrupted, your voice fierce despite the tears slipping down your cheeks. “I love you more than anything. More than my pride. More than my pain.” You swallowed hard, your hands trembling as they cupped his face. “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t care if it’s selfish. I just want you to stay.”

Painfully, he stared at you, his heart twisting. Fuck, he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve the way you looked at him, the way you still loved him so wholly, so completely, despite everything.

“Why?” he choked out. “Why are you still here?”

Smiling again, your thumb brushed against his cheek as though trying to wipe away the guilt etched into his skin. “Because I know you love me,” you whispered. “Even if you’re too broken to say it, even if you don’t know how to show it.”

Of course, you were right. He did love you—more than words, more than breath, more than anything he’d ever known. But that love terrified him. It made him weak. Vulnerable. And it was that fear, that unbearable vulnerability, that had driven him into the arms of another.

The mafia executive pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your shoulder, his body trembling as he finally let himself break. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, over and over, the words spilling out like a prayer. “I’m so sorry.”

Your fingers stroked through his hair, your voice soft as you murmured, “I know.”

Later that night, as you slept beside him, your hand resting lightly on his chest, Chuuya lay awake, staring at the ceiling. He thought of her—the other woman—and how empty it all had been. It was never love, never even desire. Just fear. Fear of how much you mattered, of how much you had the power to hurt him.

Yet, the only thing that hurt was knowing how much he had hurt you, and how much you still loved him anyway.

You stayed.

And Chuuya didn’t know if that made him grateful—or if it made him hate himself even more.

,

Akutagawa was not a man of softness. His world had been carved from cruelty, shaped by jagged edges, and governed by a single, unrelenting law: only the strong survive. Love, tenderness, devotion—these were concepts that lived far outside the borders of his reality, things he neither craved nor understood. And yet, you were there, like a persistent shadow in the corner of his existence, refusing to leave despite everything he did to drive you away.

He cheated on you, of course. Repeatedly, with no hesitation and no remorse. It wasn’t about desire or passion, not even about the fleeting thrill of power that came with conquering another. No, for Akutagawa, it was something far more calculated, almost mechanical. He needed to remind himself that he could exist without you, that your love, unconditional and maddening, was nothing but a chain he could snap at any time.

But no matter how many nights he spent in someone else’s bed, he always returned to you. And that irritated him more than anything else.

Because you stayed.

Every time he walked through the door, the scent of smoke and another’s perfume clinging to him like a confession, you were there. You greeted him with a quiet smile, your eyes soft, your voice gentle as though he hadn’t just betrayed you yet again. You didn’t yell. You didn’t demand explanations or apologies. You didn’t even cry.

Instead, you loved him.

It was so silly of you to cook for him, tend to his injuries and press soft kisses to his forehead when he came home battered and bloodied. You whispered words of kindness into the silence, words he didn’t deserve, words that clung to him like a shroud long after you’d fallen asleep beside him.

And it infuriated him. So much.

“What are you smiling for?” he snapped one evening, his voice sharp and cutting. You had been sitting at the small table, waiting for him to come home, and your face had lit up the moment you saw him.

“Because you’re here,” you said simply, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

As Akutagawa’s jaw tightened, his hands curled into fists at his sides. “You’re pathetic,” he spat, the words venomous and deliberate. “You know what I do. You know where I go. And yet, you sit here like some obedient dog, waiting for scraps of affection I’ll never give you.”

Your smile faltered, just for a moment, but it didn’t disappear. “I stay because I love you,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the weight of his words.

Deeply so, he hated that answer. He despised the way it cut through him, sharper than any blade, because it wasn’t laced with bitterness or anger or accusation. It was just the truth, pure and unwavering, and it made him feel more vulnerable than he ever wanted to admit.

Akutagawa turned away from you, his coat swishing behind him as he stalked toward the window, the night air pressing in through the cracks. “Your love is useless,” he muttered, staring out at the city below.

“Maybe,” you said, your tone still calm, still infuriatingly kind. “But it’s yours, whether you want it or not.”

And that was what drove him mad. The way you refused to hate him. The way you stayed, even as he crushed you under the weight of his indifference. The way your love seemed to grow stronger the more he tried to destroy it.

Later that night, as you slept curled beside him, your fingers lightly brushing against his, Akutagawa stared at the ceiling, his mind restless. He thought about the women he had touched, the fleeting moments of distraction that never left a mark. They were nothing, hollow echoes of a need he refused to acknowledge. But you—your presence, your love, your endless devotion—were something else entirely.

Being a mirror, you reflected back the parts of himself he despised most, the parts he tried to bury beneath his anger and his cruelty. And yet, you loved him anyway. You stayed, even as he pushed you to your limits, even as he tore at the edges of your soul with his sharp words and his careless actions.

Turning his head to look at you, his gaze lingered on your sleeping face. You looked peaceful, as though the weight of his sins hadn’t touched you, as though his betrayal hadn’t left scars. But he knew better. He knew you were breaking beneath the surface, even if you refused to show it.

And still, you stayed.

Whit twitching fingers, his hand hovered just above yours, as though he wanted to touch you but couldn’t bring himself to cross that final line. You were his, completely and utterly, and yet he felt more bound by you than he ever had by anyone else.

Because your love wasn’t a chain he could snap.

It was a mirror, and no matter how many times he shattered it, the reflection always returned.

[violetscar656]

"Emotions and Memories of Past" - Aftermath Part 2

Summary: Y/N is a member of the inner circle, sister to Rhysand and Cassian, best friend of Azriel. After the war and opening up to Azriel; she is now going on a mission, and needs to face another past.

Warnings: Kidnapping, torture, death, mention of mental illness, blood, mentions of wing cutting, graphic (sorta?)

Author’s note: Part 2 is here, and it’s kinda long and angsty. First of all thank you to everyone who has liked part 1. Secondly, if you didn’t read part 1, I highly suggest you do so to have a base for this one and the next. Comments are open to all suggestions, ENJOY!

“Are you ready?” I said standing in the balcony, ready to take flight

“Always” came an excited response

“Let's go for then”

The city of Velaris is beautiful at night, flying next to Y/N always made my mind go quiet

“You're falling behind”, you said, flying in front

“More like letting you win”

“Then catch me if shadowsinger” came a voice full of smiles

Azriel smiles at the memory; how long has it been since you two have flown together without worry, maybe before Amarantha?

Dawn cracking, Azriel stepped onto the training ground. It was an hour before Cassian was here, he started with his usual warmup

Shadow whispering, Azriel didn’t need to turn his back to see his brother walking

“You're up early” Ariel says, continuing with squats

“Yeah, figured both of us needed this” Cassian joins in, and starts with stretches

“What do you mean, brother?” Azriel stops mid squat and looks at him

“You're barely here, brother” Cassian huffs “Any free time you have, you're helping Elain,” Cassian responds, not bothering to look at Azriel, his focus on the high kicks

“What? Is that what I am doing? Wait, is that Y/N was so distant…. No, it can't be, I am always here for her, surely she knows that-- right?

Azriel goes down and starts with a plank “Yeah well, Rhys asked me to look after her”

“There is a difference between looking after and practically being her shadow” Cassian grunts up, holding his leg high

Azriel, falls his brother's words surprised him

Cassian, amused, turns towards Azriel, stopping his stretches, “Oh come on, you have to know that Az”. He puffs and offers a hand to him, Azriel takes it  “Tell me one thing, brother” voice serious, “Do you love her?”

Azriel goes silent, his shadows quite

Do I love Elain? I don’t know, what I feel for her is it love? I don’t have much experience in that. He remembers what Rhys told him, loving someone is not just attraction, it is also peace of mind and heart. I don’t think my mind has been quite with her.

Azriel gets out of his stupor “Honestly, I don’t know” and with that truth, they began sparring.

---

You jerk up from bed, the sound of clashing swords waking you up. You get moving, seeing from your bedroom window the two Illyrian soldiers, you smile at the image in front of you, the normalcy in it, Maybe I’ll ask Feyre to paint it; with that thought, you get moving, to start a very, very long day

“Good morning” You sing, taking a seat at the dining table

“Morning, sweets” Cassian says, out of full oatmeal, one eyebrow raised

You scoff, “Swallow first, brother”, You feel a tug on your foot, looking down at the shadow creeping up your leg, you allow it

“You look ready to leave” Noticing your Illyrian leathers, Azriel points to your daggers “Exactly what manner is this mission?”

Swallowing, you say, “Hmmm, a level 5 or 6 , maybe” You take another bite

“Where will you be going?” Cassian asks, interested in this mission

You're quiet for a second, “Illyria” You confidently reply, not letting the past bother you

You take your gaze off your plate to the males sitting with you, Cassian's face alarmed, Azriel’s face unreadable but eyes full of fear and rage.

You sigh, “Don’t you two please, have some faith in me” You try to assure them “Brother, you taught me well”  You say, looking at him “and Az, have a little confidence in your training!, you know I won’t get caught”

“But, you were” Azriel's voice barely on leash

“That was ages ago, I have grown since then, and also -see?” You take out the faebane antidote from your pocket “All prepared” you hum

Cassian let out a loud breath “Do you have to go alone? At least let me handle Devlon”

“Cassian” You look in his eyes and you let him see the need to go alone to go from here, even if it's to Illyria, a second passes by

You get up, “I should get going” with that, you leave

--

Flying towards Windhaven, you can’t help but think about, what happen the last time you came here alone. You didn’t say the whole story to anyone-

You were tied in some sort of dungeon, eyes blinded, sharp, piercing pain consumed you, dullness, sudden dizziness, and intense pain. No, no you knew what this was

“This whore thinks she better and stronger” a male voice said “Just because of a little magic and wings”

“W-what” You said, voice like gravel “Faebane” You concluded, struggling with the last energy you had left, too panicked, your mind wasn’t yours at the time. No this can't be, my magic, I can’t reach for it, Is this how it’ll end for me?

At least you knew the kidnappers will also not survive this, your family will destroy them. Family, your family, you can’t leave them, not like this, and Gods, Azriel, no, you couldn’t go before you tell him, no you refuse to give up like this. Az-Azriel he taught you well how to get out of the situation.

“Hmmm” Another male voice came ”We did get rid of her magic, wings on the other hand”, The second male voice said “I think I am going to enjoy keeping them, you know” You feel a hand grabbing your chin “ You know, as a trophy”

Utter PURE RAGE filled you, but you had to be patient, you trying to move but fail

“Oh, bird that is not gonna work” the second male said “I should get things prepared, you know, trapped birds’ wings are cut”

Fearmixes up with the rage you felt

You wait, for the coast to get clear, your hearing trying to pick up how many are near you, silence, you thank the mother before you began-

You move your bound hands to the wall behind to loosen the grip of whatever held them, pain so much pain, skin tearing, but you succeeded, the bonds were loose, and you broke them. The smell of blood hits you. And before you realised you moved intentionally, yanking your right wing, shredding it, sheer agonising pain, but you need to move. With your hands free, you remove the blinds, you check your surroundings, nobody. Breaking the rope that bound your feet and some kind of pin to your left wing, you leave

“You bitch” A voice came familiar one the first male, he launches towards you, years of training and instinct guides you.

The male was big, not someone you can’t handle, you move, grabbing him by his arm using his own weight to your advantage and flipping him on his back to the ground. Next, you cover his mouth with one hand, and put your body weight on his legs, noticing a dagger at his waist, you grab it with you other hand and plunge it into his heart.

Good, now you have a weapon. Sudden blinding pain from your wing, you take a look, horror fills in your eyes Madja, she’ll heal it she will you tear the male’s shirt from his dead body and bind your wing so that the blood stops gushing No flying from here.

Mother might have been watching over you, because there was nobody else. You get out and see the night sky, familiar woods greet you, the border of WindHaven, adrenaline buzzing in your body, you run northwest towards the camp. You do not know how long you were running for, or even if you reached the camp; the last thing you remember is a female's voice over you body calling for help

---

You land near the camp gates and walk towards the centre of the camp to let the leader know you have arrived. Curses and growls go in the background, you ignore them

“Devlon” You nod, standing in front of him

Devlon, face of menace, “What are YOU doing here?” His lip curls in disgust “When the High Lord said someone will be coming, I thought it would be one of his lap dogs”

You raise an eyebrow, “My brother does not need to give YOU an explanation” You say voice full of ice “And when it comes to Cassian and Azriel” You step forward “You're intelligent enough not to call them that, especially in front of me” Your eyes promise slow torture

“I’m going to the cabin, and you have one hour to gather all females in training” You declare, and fly towards the cabin

You enter the cabin, drop your bag and take off your jacket and start walking towards to kitchen

You take the teapot out of the cupboard and start filling it up with water-

“Did you arrive safely?” Rhys’s voice echoes,

“Yes I did”, You put the teapot on the stove “Devlon is so delighted to see me” Your voice dripping with sarcasm

“Sister, try to not push him, please? The Illyrian forces fought well in the war” Rhys calmly says

You roll your eyes, “Imagine how well they could have fought if the females were also trained and not clipped”

“He saw you fight, he knows he needs to get serious now”

You snort “NOW being the key word”

Seconds of silence

“I know better than to tell you not to go to the border, but please, Y/N do not “ concern lining his tone

“I thought you knew better” You say, teasing him, but you have to tell him what you plan “I need answers Rhys” You reply solemnly

Rhysand hesitates, “I-We cannot see you at death's door again” voice clipped with worry  

You feel an ache in your chest “I won't be, and I came prepared” You say softly, taking the tea leaves and adding them to the boiling water. From where you were standing, you see something move near your jacket on the couch, your eyes widened in disbelief.

“THAT PRICK OF A SHADOW BOY” You shout mentally and out loud

“You tell him he is DEAD when I get back, and I swear Rhys, if he comes here unannounced, the night court spymaster position will be open, DO YOU GET IT?

“Okay, alright, I will tell him, but why?” Rhys asks amused

“Why? WHY! Because a shadow followed me, that’s why!” you practically roar

Rhys chuckles, “Although I doubt you'll do major damage to the male you love, but still got it” His voice is more relieved than you would like

You huff in anger, taking the cup of tea, sitting on the couch, glaring at the shadow, it recoils and hides behind the jacket.

“Did your master send you?” you ask the shadow, it comes out and goes left and right, as if to say no,

“Then what you followed me on your own will?” the shadow goes up and down, and you understood it wanted to say yes

You were wondering how it was possible, when you remember the shadow crawling up your leg at breakfast

“You hid in my jacket pocket, didn’t you?” an answer more than a question, the shadow goes up and down

You sigh, not able to be angry at the shadow, “Okay, this is what we do, you can come with me to the camp” The shadow dances “But you need to stay hidden” The shadow agrees

“And no reporting to Azriel” The shadow stops, you just stare at it, then it twirls around you. Okay we are in agreement then

--

You enter a weapons shop, frustrated at the lack of training the females are getting in the camp, Devlon making the excuse of war for every other problem you point out

“Hello welcome” the female behind the counter says

“Hello” You say, surprised to see a female behind the counter, and even more to see she isn’t clipped

She giggles, “A lot of people give me that look” You blink and mask your expression

“No, no, it is okay please, how can I help you” The shopkeeper asks

You sit down and explain to her the practice swords you want to be made, for the females in training, the weight, the height and the grip designed for them.

“So, you look someone in power, can I ask who you are?” The shopkeeper asks

“Oh shit! Where are my manners I’m Y/N,” you say, completely forgetting to introduce yourself, maybe Devlon did get on your nerves

The shopkeeper smiles, “Nice to meet you Y/N, I’m Lucy” You grin at her

The next day, you go to the training grounds earlier than expected, you see the males training but none of the females, and frustration rises. You go inside the tower to speak with Devlon, when a hand grabs yours. You whip, forcing the body towards the wall, unsheathing a dagger,

Scared green eyes meet yours, one of the females in training

“Sorry” You say “What is wrong?” you ask her, sheathing your dagger near your ribs

Her voice is hardly audible “Meet us near the old willow tree, by nightfall, we have a message”

We? Old willow tree,- oh by the grave, -near the border, you sigh

You nod to the female and head up the tower. It’s time to push the sorry excuse of a leader.

---

There were no words to describe how you felt; Devlon was a bastard. He babbled on about power and how females do not have the honour to wear siphons, even commented on your magic, calling it untamed; he told you to show how well you can fight, as if being the General’s second was not enough. Well, you did love the look on his face after beating his top 3 warriors this camp. You sat in the armchair in the cabin, the shadow that followed you bouncing around you, trying to cheer you up

“You are gonna stay here when I go” and immediately the shadow shakes

“I need to visit someone before the meeting” the shadow shakes again, you sigh “Okay, you can come, but you leave me alone before the meeting” The shadow stills, and slowly goes up and down, you give it a small smile

You sheath yourself with every weapon you have, not knowing what will happen near the borders, or to know if this was some sort of trap.

Dagger check, antidote check, sword check you look around, thin trendle slithers up and goes in the pocket- shadow check

You stop by a flower shop near the willow tree, and get lilies. Heart aching, you were going to visit someone whom you haven’t for over 50 years, someone whom you told everything to, someone who you miss terribly-   

“H-hi mom” You whisper, eyes lined with tears

“I got your favourite” You lay down the bouquet on the grave

“I am fine, I am doing good, sorry I didn’t come here for a while. It’s Rhys' fault he hid us” you say “To protect, yes, but still” You say, half sobbing

“I miss you mom” You go down on your knees and start crying

This is the only place you showed your true emotions now, only place you expressed them openly without hesitation

Night is about to fall “A-and then he caught me staring at him” you say sitting next to the grave, eyes puffy with tears, You notice the sky and say “Mom I would love to sit and talk more but I need to get going” a sad smile come to your face “I’ll come again, soon this time, bye” giving a flying kiss you turn and exit the graveyard; nearing the tree you halt and look towards the dark corner

You raise your eyebrow, “We need to go” thin tendril comes out of the dark and circles your wrist “I am okay, let’s go”

--

You hide, taking cover by the tree just like Azriel taught you,

“Spying is the work of patience, silence and knowing your surroundings. Master these things, and you’d make a decent spy” Azriel told you when you asked him to train you

“And how about the unreadable face” You asked cocking up your head

Azriel smirked, “I’ll be impressed if you master that”

You hear footsteps, then mumbling, you try to figure out what it is

“I know she will come, just be patient and try not to look suspicious” a female voice said, no THE female voice said

You tilt your head to see 2 females, both in training, and wait, is that Lucy?

You look at the surroundings and then get out “I am already here” You say, eyes darting between the females

“What is going on here?” Your face unreadable

Lucy was the first one to speak, voice hushed, “We need your help” she pauses, take breath  “There are suspicious activity going on near the borders” She says, walking towards you “Females are disappearing, for months” she says “And if they are found-“ she stops her face going pale

Voice low, the female with green eyes comes forward, “T-they don’t have their wings, and are either dead or near death” Your heart starts pounding, the mask of cold slowly shattering

You take a deep breath, a knowing sensation comes to you; you get yourself together “How long?” Your voice, more stable than you thought

“It’s mostly happening randomly, there is not one particular camp, that is why it’s going unnoticed” The female with green eyes said “But, guessing by what we know, years maybe” her voice filled with sorrow

The shadow flies from your pocket, goes to a distant

“How do you all kn-

The shadow tugs at your hand, silencing your words

“Wait here” You follow the shadow and see a group of males coming your way, “Go and tell him to come to the cabin” Your voice is barely a whisper “Unnoticed”

You rush to the females, “Someone is coming, I got your message, we need to leave from here” You tell them “Start with any random story that pops in your head, we laugh and walk towards your shop, Lucy” They all nod

---

You needed a drink, with the dreadful things you heard, the females who survived either killed themselves or went into deep depression. The description they gave was do familiar to what happened years ago. The female with green eyes, her name was Sara, and the other one Ruby  

You turn towards Lucy “Please tell me you have alcohol” Lucy huffs out a laugh, reaches down the counter and takes amber colour liquid and 4 glasses

“May the Gods bless you, Lucy” that, from Ruby, the first sentence you heard her say

You welcome the burn of the liquor and finally ask “How do you all know this, and how did you guys get involved in this?”

Sara and Lucy glance at Ruby, she speaks up “They killed my twin” Ruby stares on the ground “I do not know if you will believe us, but this is a group”--“I know people in other camps, they confirmed this”  she sighs “A group of manic males, who deserve worst sentence than death”

“They deserve slow, painful torture” You say

You knew this was all true, you just knew it, something very similar happened to you, but you got out, you fought. But the other females could not, even if they survived, their lives had no meaning, not to them. You knew what to do

Resolve dawning on your face “I’ll help you out, actually you’ll help me out” You say firmly “I cannot have 2 females in training risk their necks” You sigh, looking at Lucy “And you fall under less than 1% female population in Windhaven”

“I’ll speak with Rhysand, and make sure Devlon doesn’t get to know this” You say, looking at all three of them “You all can gather the information, but that is all, that’s the line”

Ruby speaks up in anger, “I need my revenge”

“No” You glare at her “What you need is to survive and learn how to fight properly” You say, putting up the mask of cool

You get up, looking at all three of them, voice filled with understanding, “I will not let this go, you 3 trusted me enough to tell this, then please trust me on this as well” You assure them

---

Azriel was sitting in Rhysand’s office, all three brothers present, having much-needed time together and whiskey. He explained how he did not send the shadow, and how the threat you made to his life was, well, cute.

Rhys laughs “That is true, Y/N will not be able to hurt you” Azriel hums with a much-needed buzz “But not for the reason you think, brother” Rhys spits out, Azriel raises up an eyebrow

“Well, we do know she can do major damage to you, Az” Cassian cuts in

They start a conversation on various topics, laughing when-

Cassian notices the shadow sneaking in from the bottom space of the door; he taps Azriel’s shoulder and points at it

The shadow goes to Azriel, whispering

Azriel shoots up the, gone was the relaxation, gone was the buzz; Rhys and Cassian just stare at him

“She needs me” with that he left

---

You entered the cabin with a grim look and possibly information that would make one deadly mission. You stood in the doorway and looked towards the living room. Guess he isn’t here yet. You sat down in the armchair, head down, hands at your forehead, all your things packed. The box inside your chest cracking ever so slightly. The sound of the door opening drew your attention. You looked up and saw him.

You can't help yourself, you're walking before you know, and you pull Azriel into a hug.

He returns the gesture, hugging you tight, letting go, he scans you for any injuries “What is wrong?”

You look at his silver-lined eyes “Winnow me to the Town House” Your voice small

Azriel's brow furrowed “You called me here to winnow?” His voice with disbelief, “Y/N do you even know how worried I was?”

The box inside cracks more, a tear slips from your face “Azriel, please, I’ll tell you everything, but I need to tell all of you together”

---

You sit in the armchair in Rhysand’s office, the air thick with tension. It’s been five minutes since you told them what you found out. You pour another glass of whiskey for yourself. Cassian walks up to you, takes the bottle, and pours one for himself.

Azriel break the tension “We do not know how true is this information” ever the spymaster

You take a long sip “I know it is true” a heartbeat of silence “I know it is true because” you take another sip “they tried to do the same thing to me” you say voice low

“W-what?” Rhys rasp

“The last time I went there, I told you all that I just got kidnapped and drugged me, using faebane” You stare at the group, the box inside your chest is shaking now  “I lied, well, at least half of it” You say voice trembling

“Y/N you don’t have to” you hear Cassian say

You look at Azriel “I don’t have to, but I need to” The box burst open

And you tell them EVERYTHING, the parts you hid , what actually happened in Illyria, how you woke up in the dungeon, what the male said about your wings, how you escaped, how the last thing you remembered was a voice, and the next thing you remember was waking up in the healing chambers with Mor by your side. You didn’t know when you started crying, when Azriel came next to you and held you.

You look up “R-rhys?” you say

Rhys' face filled with sorrow “Why, why didn’t you tell this to us before?”

You feel the guilt “I didn’t want to be weak” Your voice a sad whisper

“Fuck” you hear Cassian grunt “Y/N when did we ever give you the impression that you are weak” he stands in front of you, and bends to your level  “Sister, you are strong, the things you have faced and live through not everybody can” You look in his eyes and see the sadness and truth there

You just stayed silent, but your foot was tapping, a tell of yours, that there is more

Cassian takes a step and notices “What is it?” You stand up from the armchair and take 2 steps forward

You look at Azriel, who just nods in understanding, and you take a deep breath

“I lost you” You said, looking at Rhy’s “And you too” You said, looking at Cassian “I almost lost my brothers” You said, tears crawling back

Understanding dawns on Rhysand’s face, and his face turns white as a ghost. He knew you were troubled after the war, but this, he didn’t imagine this. He walks towards you and hugs you, your head plastered to his chest, and immediately you start to sob

“I’m sorry” Rhys says  “I should have known better” he cups your face and starts wiping your tears “Y/N, listen to me angel, we are here, you don’t have to talk about this now if you don’t want to” he releases your face and holds you hand “But if you want to then we are ready to hear”

You muster up a sad smile, “I don’t wanna cry anymore”

You meet Cassian’s gaze, worry and confusion in his eyes, you look at Azriel who shakes his head, you sigh, “Telling them makes it better?” You ask, looking at Azriel

“It does” He replies with a soft smile “They’ll understand”

“You two need to sit” you say to your brothers

---

Exhausted! That’s what you were standing in your bedchambers in the House of Wind, you came back here despite the protest of Rhys, and Cassian’s demand that he carries you, you told them to stop becoming mother hens, but still, voicing your feelings that’s been piling up for months and years to them out and not just to your mother, you felt lighter than you ever did. Well, at least you didn’t confess your feelings to Azriel, you could not figure out if you were relieved or not about it; you changed into your nightgown, unbound your hair-

“Y/N?” You hear someone knocking at the door,

Opening it you were not surprised to see the male “Az”

Azriel leans on the doorframe and stares at you,

“What” You ask with a chuckle

Azriel’s gaze feels like an imprint “Just wanted to check up” He says coolly

“What are you doing standing there? Come in” You say

“I wasn’t invited in” Az replies

You snort moving inside “Since when do you need an invitation?- and to reply to your previous question, I’m much better” You smile at him “Thank you”

Azriel steps into your room, feeling of calm hitting him “Since there were so many confessions tonight,- I have one to make” Your heart starts pounding “I’m sorry, Y/N, I haven’t been around that much”

Your breath hitches, “It-its okay Az-

“It's not” He steps into your space, grabbing your arms gently “I didn’t mean to do it, I didn’t even realise it”

He cups one side of your face, your heart practically skips a beat “You were so strong tonight, dove”

“I don’t know about that” you say as nonchalantly as possible

“You were” Azriel says with a smile, you were just able to nod

This, this is the moment you wanna stay in forever, Azriel holding you close, his scent calming your nerves; couple of minutes past by

“I should go” Azriel states, voice hoarse

You smile “Okay” Your smile spreads “Goodnight Azzie”

Azriel smiles, eyes pools of warm honey, “Goodnight, dove” With that, he leaves your room

---

Azriel can't help but feel a warmth in his chest, maybe because things are slowly getting the way they used to be. He flops on his bed She cried a lot today, I have to make sure it doesn’t happen again. He flops again Her hair was looking like the night sky, dark and shiny, I wonder how they feel. He jolts up Why am I thinking about her hair? For fuck sake I need to get it together, I’m pretty sure she looks at me like a brother” He walks into his bathroom, slashing water on his face Although, I don’t think she ever called me a brother- did she?

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note: I know, I know, I went in a different direction on this, but I had to do some explaining for the end of part 1, and it all ties up in the end (the other part/parts) . I had to do a character build-up.

My taglist <3: @the-onlyy-angie @lreadsstuff @xadenswhore

[tc-doherty]

TC's Practical Writing Tips

Like I said before, I'm not gonna sit here and pretend that I can teach anyone how to write – that's a level of hubris even I'm not capable of –but in honor of my rapidly approaching ~quarter century of writing original fiction anniversary~, I did figure I would share the tips that I live by when it comes to the act of writing.

So without further ado:

Write it now, fix it later

2. It is always permissible – and usually enjoyable – to write the stupidest possible version

3. "Inspiration" is great for poets, but poison for people who write prose

3.1: if you want to write often, you need to write often, and then you will find that you don't need to be "inspired" because you will have made a habit of it and it will come naturally 3.2: even one sentence a day is still one sentence a day. And even one sentence a week is still one sentence a week. It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop 3.3: believing in the concept that you need to be inspired to write will trap you into believing in the concept of writer's block 3.4: if you are having difficulty getting out words that satisfy you, lower your standards and keep writing (see point one)

4. A few months down the line you will not remember which words came easily and which words did not

5. It is always permissible to set a project aside for now, or forever, if you need a break

6. Read widely and often, both in your favorite genres and outside of them

6.1: pay special attention to both things that you love and things that you hate - study them, engage with them, learn what makes yourself tick and your writing can only get stronger

7. Never write for the lowest common denominator, via wise words I once heard: "if you open the window and make love to the world, your story will get pneumonia", have an audience in mind and the people who like what you write will find it

8. Never write for the bad faith critic, those people will always exist and you will need to deal with them at some point if you put your writing in the world, but they don't matter and you cannot live in fear of them

9. It's fine and normal to want engagement and praise, however you must find a way to make the act of writing joyful in and of itself – make the praise the cherry on top, not the entire sunday

9.1: writing is hard work, and it's a lot of work, if you lose the ability to enjoy the journey and are proceeding only for external rewards from others, you will gradually write less and less if the ratio of work to rewards is unsatisfying

10. For anything other than final copy editing, always write a new draft into a new document, or else the words you have already written will trap you from being able to make large, sweeping changes

10.1: any change you make will invariably snowball, and you must give space for that snowball to roll

11. If someone tells you that something doesn't work for them, believe them, because people know what they like. But if people try to tell you what to do to fix it, take that with an entire serving of salt because you are the author, not them

12. It is always morally correct to look at a critique that you received, even if you asked for opinions via beta reading, and decide that it's bullshit and doesn't apply to you

13. "write what you know" means "write what you're interested in"

14. "Show don't tell" applies to screenwriting, not novels. This is the thing that drives me the most insane every time I see it. Novels are words on a page, not images on a screen. They require a lot of telling. Not all telling, but a lot of telling. Become comfortable with that.

15. It is always, ALWAYS acceptable to use "said", do not listen to the lies of others

16. Have fun, do it out of love and you will never go astray

17. Become comfortable with who you are. Your work is always going to be yours and it is always going to sound like you wrote it, and this is a good thing! No one else is ever going to write exactly like you, and you should be proud of that

17.1: the concept of "originality" is vastly overrated, every culture has some version of Cinderella and we still love it. Your writing is yours because you wrote it, and it will always be unique because of that

[haza8877]

Soul Wounds: What Are You Carrying from Your Past Life?

Hello everyone, how have you been these past few days? With the energy of Venus retrograde, I’ve been struggling quite a bit with the energetic shifts. I wanted to do this reading last week, but only now do I feel stable enough to carry it out. Please remember that tarot is for reference and entertainment purposes only, so take in the information that resonates with you. Wishing you all a wonderful weekend!❤️💖🪷🌻

Pile 1 -> Pile 2 -> Pile 3

Pile 1

(3 of swords, 5 of swords, The Emperor)

With the energy I can sense, I feel that a deep sorrow has always clung to you—it’s hard to put into words. It’s as if there has been a thorn stuck in your heart since the moment you were born, a lingering sadness and pain. I wondered what made this feeling so deeply ingrained within you.

As I pulled additional cards, I sensed that in a past life, you might have placed all your trust, ideals, and effort into something you wholeheartedly believed was right (perhaps you were a warrior, a soldier, or someone fighting for a cause). But then, you were betrayed by that very belief—by the people you once protected with everything you had. You didn’t just lose the battle; you also lost your faith. I feel as though you were never acknowledged by the king, leader, or those in power at the time. In fact, they might have even oppressed you despite your sacrifices.

This left you with deep wounds from betrayal and deception, making you disillusioned with everything and distrustful of others. In your current life, this past trauma may still affect you—you may struggle to open up, constantly question things, and have high standards for everything around you. It acts as a protective mechanism for you, yet the sorrow and pain remain, sometimes without a clear reason.

Your advice is to learn how to regulate your emotions, set healthy boundaries, but not completely shut yourself off from the world. Every lifetime is a new experience. Remember, you are the sole master of your own life. What comes in or goes out is entirely up to you. So, choose and decide wisely.

And that’s all I can see. If you have any questions or would like to experience a personalized tarot reading for deeper and more detailed insights, feel free to check it out here.

Pile 2

(9 of swords, 5 of wands, Queen of swords)

Honestly, the structure of your reading is quite similar to Pile 1, but your pain feels much heavier and more haunting. I sense that you might frequently struggle with insomnia, have nightmares, and experience high levels of anxiety.

Based on the cards, I feel that in a past life, you may have lived through a time of war—or at the very least, you endured intense battles, conflicts, and prolonged struggles. It’s as if you never knew what tomorrow would bring, whether you would still be alive the next day. You were constantly in a state of readiness for whatever conflicts might arise.

And those traumas have carried over into this lifetime. In the present, I feel that you try to avoid conflicts and confrontations as much as possible (which, of course, no one wants to deal with), but it’s as if you would rather endure and stay silent just to keep the peace. You are extremely prone to stress, you may struggle with sleep, and loud noises could make you feel uneasy. Your emotions seem quite unstable at times.

Now, for the advice I see for you: You need to practice activities that help you manage your emotions. You might benefit from meditation, journaling, painting, or any hobby that allows you to focus. I sense that you get easily distracted because you are always in a state of worry. You need to understand that you are the only one in control of your life. Of course, external circumstances influence you, but you are the center of your own existence—you are the sole decision-maker for your journey.

If you make choices based on fear, then you alone will bear the consequences. So, since you have the chance to experience this lifetime, make wise decisions to break the cycle of pain and prevent it from repeating again.

And that’s all I can see. If you have any questions or would like to experience a personalized tarot reading for deeper and more detailed insights, feel free to check it out here.

Pile 3

( The Moon, 9 of pentacles, 7 of pentacles)

As I delve into your reading, I sense that in your past life, you often felt deeply lonely. You may have had material abundance, but you were emotionally unfulfilled. You possessed a sensitive, profound, and intuitive soul, yet you found it difficult to express or share your feelings because few could truly understand you. People admired your material success, but they failed to see the emptiness and longing for connection within you.

It is possible that, in your past life, some of you were involved in artistic fields—perhaps as musicians, writers, or simply as individuals who sought solace in art to feel fulfilled. In general, you carried the essence of an artistic soul.

In this lifetime, you may still feel lonely—not because no one is willing to listen to you, but because you deeply understand that few can truly grasp your profound and somewhat abstract thoughts. This realization makes you choose not to share. I sense that even now, you have a strong interest in art or spirituality (which makes sense, given that you're currently reading a tarot reading, haha). You likely listen to a lot of music, enjoy painting, or engage in any form of artistic expression that allows you to escape reality.

To be honest, I empathize with the feeling of self-isolation and retreating into your own dreamlike world. However, no matter how much you try to escape reality, it will always be there—you still have to live and truly experience life. And don’t assume that you’ll never find someone who understands you. Listen, the world has over eight billion people, and there are undoubtedly kindred souls out there.

The real issue is that people like us tend to hide away, making it impossible for us to find each other if we all keep running. Be patient and learn to navigate both reality and your inner world—find a balance. If you conceal yourself too much, how can your "kindred spirits" pick up on your signals and find you? But that doesn’t mean you should force yourself to be overly expressive. Take your time, be patient, and sometimes, just voice your thoughts and perspectives instead of assuming that no one will understand you.

And that’s all I can see. If you have any questions or would like to experience a personalized tarot reading for deeper and more detailed insights, feel free to check it out here.

Thank you for following and supporting my readings and blog. Wishing you always feel love and light from your own faith.🪷💖🙏🏻

[doodle-pops]

Curufin With A Smitten Reader Would Include…

A/N: Wanted to do a little surprise today and treat all the Curufin lovers to a nice piece about him. Also based on a conversation I had over here ➽ ASK. And, Valentine’s Day was just two days ago, so it made sense for him to have so much attention lol

Masterlist | Navigation

• Curufin was used to admiration—whether it was for his craft, his skill in battle, or simply being the son of Fëanor, there was never a shortage of people who either respected or feared him. But you? You were something else entirely. You didn’t just admire him—you practically worshipped the ground he walked on, and he was absolutely thriving off it.

• It started off amusing to him. He caught you watching him a little too intently while he worked on some intricate piece of metalwork, and when he looked up, instead of feigning indifference like a normal person, you just sighed dreamily and muttered, “Your hands are wasted on mere steel.” He had to pause his work entirely, torn between laughter and sheer delight at the audacity of it.

• “Oh? And what, pray tell, should they be doing instead?” He leaned forward slightly, intrigued, half expecting you to get embarrassed. You didn’t. You simply said, “Holding me.” The arrogance. The sheer confidence. He decided right then and there that he was keeping you.

• If he ever needed an ego boost (not that he would ever admit to such a thing), he would simply go to you. It was guaranteed that whatever he was doing, you would find it spectacular. Sharpening a blade? “You make it look so elegant.” Giving orders? “Your voice could command the stars.” Even just existing? “I swear the air is sweeter when you’re near.” It didn’t matter if he was being ruthless or sarcastic—your response was always adoration, and he drank it in like fine wine.

• He loved seeing how effortlessly you prioritised him in everything. If he was speaking, you were listening, hanging on every word like it was a revelation from Eru himself. If he had an idea, you supported it without question, often embellishing it with some flowery praise about his brilliance. And if anyone dared speak against him in your presence? Oh, you would defend him with the fervour of a zealot.

• “You’re ridiculous,” he told you once, watching as you argued on his behalf with a stubborn Noldo who dared question his methods. You turned to him, all righteous fury, and said, “No, they are ridiculous for doubting you.” He stared at you for a moment, then simply pulled you close and kissed you, because what else could he do?

• He found it endlessly entertaining how you always managed to spin his worst traits into something admirable. He was ruthless? No, he was determined. He was sharp-tongued? No, he was eloquent. He was arrogant? No, he simply knew his worth. You once told him, with complete sincerity, “You’re not arrogant—you’re just burdened with accuracy.” He defined had to sit down after that one.

• You became something of a menace to his brothers as well. Celegorm was used to people flattering Curufin, but he wasn’t used to it being this relentless. One time, after a particularly long string of your praises, Celegorm just groaned and said, “Do you even hear yourself? You sound like a lovesick bard.” Without missing a beat, you replied, “At least bards have taste.”

• You were, to put it simply, a devoted enabler. If Curufin had an idea, no matter how outrageous, you supported it wholeheartedly. If he wanted to make an impossibly intricate piece of jewellery, you encouraged him. If he suggested an elaborate strategy, you were already making plans. Even when he was scheming, you didn’t bat an eye.

• “Are you truly alright with this?” he asked once, watching you as he detailed some cunning plan. Most people would have hesitated, but you just smiled and said, “I trust you.” There was something almost terrifying about your blind faith in him, but he wasn’t about to complain.

• You had a habit of watching him like he was the most fascinating thing in Arda. Whether he was crafting, strategising, or just standing there, you always looked at him as if he personally hung the stars in the sky. It was a gaze he never quite got used to, but he never wanted it to stop.

• “What are you staring at?” he asked once, half-amused, half-smug, as he caught you watching him work. You just sighed and said, “Perfection.” He nearly ruined the piece he was working on.

• It didn’t matter how long you were together—your admiration for him never wavered. Even when he was at his worst, when others turned away in fear or doubt, you remained steadfast. If anything, you admired him even more when he was sharp and unyielding.

• “You should be careful,” someone warned you once. “Curufin is not an easy man.” You just smiled and said, “Then it’s a good thing I don’t want easy.” When Curufin heard about it later, he just shook his head and muttered, “You are utterly impossible.” But the way he kissed you after said otherwise.

• Your devotion was so unwavering that even Fëanor, for all his pride, had to take note. He once watched as you waxed poetry about Curufin’s skill and said dryly, “Are you certain you are not one of mine?” Curufin, to his credit, simply smirked and pulled you closer. “Too late, father,” he said. “They’re mine.”

• Even in battle, you were a force of nature, not because you were the strongest, but because you fought like someone with something to prove. If Curufin was on the battlefield, you were by his side, defending him with a passion that even his own kin couldn’t match. It was both impressive and slightly alarming.

• “You fight like a mad thing,” he told you once, after you had quite literally thrown yourself into danger for him. You just grinned and said, “Well, if I die, I’ll haunt you, so you’re stuck with me either way.” He didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh.

• You had a habit of collecting things he made, as if they were holy relics. If he so much as discarded a half-finished design, you were there, scooping it up like it was a lost Silmaril. “You do realise that’s flawed, don’t you?” he said once, watching you examine a ring he had deemed unworthy. You just smiled and said, “Everything you touch is gold to me.” He scoffed, but he didn’t take it away from you.

• Your presence became something he relied on more than he cared to admit. For all his confidence, for all his cunning, there was something grounding about having you there, endlessly loyal, endlessly devoted. Others might have called you a fool for it, but he knew better. He knew that kind of loyalty was rare, and he would never take it for granted.

• “You’re dangerous,” he murmured one night, watching as you curled up beside him, looking at him as if he was your entire world. You smiled and said, “Only for you.” And for once, he had no clever reply—only the quiet, undeniable realisation that he had never been more adored in his life.

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @ladyenchanted @aconstructofamind @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @addaigio @hermaeuswhora @elficially-done-with-life @feanorynz @6esi @eunoiaastralwings @lamemaster @will-0-wsps

If you wish to be tagged, click the Taglist Link to join.

[nakedbibi333]

The Art of Returning: Coming Back to the Law

Well, it sure has been a while! The thing about me and this blog is that it's more of an archive for you guys (and myself as well) and I just log in when I feel like there is something new or relevant I want to share.

Anyway! Today I felt the urge to make a post about the idea of "falling off." I mostly want to address these kinds of questions/predicaments: "What do I do when I stop practicing the law?" and "What do I do when I stop believing in the law?"

It's happened more times than I'd care to admit in these past two years since I stopped posting regularly. I find that I'll have a lot of success and then I get comfortable there and stop being responsible with my routine. Then, by losing my routine, I slowly allow my senses and the outer world to dictate my state, and then you know how that goes...

Either way, it doesn't exactly matter how it happens, it only matters that we can get back on it and return to the place where we were before.

It's crazy how much reacting to (and living primarily in) the physical world affects your mental state. In my experience, it gets more and more negative if you're not aware of it, and soon enough, you become a pessimist, and you're constantly manifesting unlucky and negative aspects into your life. The great thing about this, though, is that you can change it. You are never stuck in a state. Whether the state is negative or positive, it is not immovable or unchangeable. Whatever you are experiencing, hearing, or seeing in your physical world is just a reflection of your state. So, since you have lost your belief in the law, you'll start to see more people criticizing and belittling people who do believe in the law. Maybe you will see more "failure" stories, and you may see more negativity in general surrounding the law. This does not mean that those things are true. They are simply what your self is reflecting onto your outer reality based on your self-concept. It may feel difficult to leave this state, but it's as simple as deciding you believe in the law again. You can just as easily return to that state of faith, trust, and power you had occupied before you stopped practicing. And I know this because I have done it myself. You will always have another excuse, another reason, and another fear that will keep you in this limited state. Just let go and return to that feeling.

For some people, I'm sure it's just as easy as intending to return to your desired state. That isn't my own personal experience, though. It can take some convincing. I approach this by re-learning everything I knew before. I need to first place myself in a calm mindful state (which is easier than immediately placing myself in a state of full, confident belief in the law) and start to consume my favorite content. I read Neville Goddard's Lectures and books, listen to Edward Art's YouTube channel, and read his main series, and then I begin to test the law. This is the best way to build belief in the law. Just test it with things that don't matter. Most people like to manifest seeing a specific color insect, getting free food, or finding a dollar on the street, but I approach testing differently before I do that. Instead of saying that I want to see a green car and then waiting to see it in my life, I just start to notice my surroundings. I'll begin to see that the thing I dreamed about the night before ended up happening, that something I was thinking about was brought up in conversation without my initiation, or that something I wanted to do is now planned by someone in my life. These things, which are not deliberately manifested by me, increase my belief in the law because I recognized that I did not even have to try to make things happen for my imagination to show me the truth in the law of assumption. Only then will I start deliberately manifesting because I feel much more confident that it will happen.

With this process, I have been able to go from a negative, unlucky, unfaithful person, to a fulfilled, lucky, and positive person within days (or sometimes hours depending on my own willingness to change). Just know that even the best of us struggle to stay on top of this way of life all the time. Remember there is very little effort in this process. It's really a letting go of your old self and allowing yourself to be open and receptive to the law again.

Hope you guys are doing well! See you again soon ♡

[ivy-elle]

Checkmate

Scaramouche x Reader

Like many things in life, chess is a constant play of push and pull.

It’s a battle of wits, intelligence, and skill, but it also requires the art of sacrifice and moving forward.

And if there is one thing Scaramouche is bad at it’s letting things go.

He can practically feel the weight of your gaze on him. Quiet, observing, calculating. Taking this broad picture of his brooding demeanour and dividing it gently into single pieces. Like you seem to do so often with him.

Thereby, before you have the chance to strike your words and crumble his walls once again, he acts faster.

“You’re cheating.”

You blink at his sudden words, then your eyes narrow. “No, you’re just a sore loser.”

“I don’t lose.”

A doubtful, low hum escapes you. “Sure. But you’re slacking today.” And then, just to jab at his endurance you add, “more so than usual.”

Scaramouche makes a noncommittal noise, the insult rolls off him for once.

That grabs your attention even more and your eyes travel along his figure; taking in his tense position while his gaze focuses on the chess board between the both of you. But his eyes seem to be in a faraway galaxy you fail to follow.

When you slide your chess piece across the board yet again, he suddenly scoffs.

“That’s a stupid move.”

 “Watch me still win,” you shoot back and as if to prove your point, the next move causes his knight to fall prey to your pawn.

Scaramouche mutters something under his breath and a frown settles between your brows as you watch him ponder on his strategy.

“You focus too much on your defence while also moving without hesitation,” you explain, before you add softly, “You don’t make sufficient sacrifices.”

“Feels like I’m making far too many,” Scaramouche mutters these words more to himself than to you.

A few more moments pass, in which you make your respective moves. Then you look up once more.

“It’s a pin. You have to let go of your queen or it's checkmate for you.”

“I can see that,” he remarks with a rising sense of irritation. “I know what I’m doing.”

Scaramouche glares at his queen amidst the chessboard. Letting the piece stay where it is feels strangely like suffocating, yet leaving the safety feels like losing everything that could potentially be, followed by an imminent sense of loss.

Scaramouche catches your eyes again, catches that too-soft, too-caring look that has taken hold of your feature. A look that seems to say a lot without actually speaking a word.

In his time of searching for who he is and what he wants, Scaramouche has learnt that some bridges to the past can never be burnt in their entirety.

And although you’ve accompanied him on his path, he fears some parts of him will be stuck behind an iron wall for eternity, and some cliffs he will never be able to cross.

But somehow, something pushes him to constantly take a leap of faith with you.

So, he relents.

Scaramouche lets his king get checked, but his queen remains standing.

A slippery fine line between here and there. Guarded and exposed.  

Push and pull.

[lost-in-fandoms]

hi esi! for writing game:

maxiel + 53 bc I remember your amazing wingfics!

From here: Wings/supernatural body features. Hello!! <3 and thank you <3 This is set in the same wingfic universe, right after the last thing I wrote I guess and the same cw apply: unsafe and painful wing care practices.

"You should sit."

Daniel points at the pillow he had set on the floor as soon as Max steps into his room, a belligerent frown still on his face, shoulders curling in, protective.

Daniel can't see his wings, which means that Max has bound them again, after keeping them away for the whole day. It makes him want to cry, cluck at him and fuss like he's just a fledgling, but he doesn't want to spook Max. Or at least, spook him more than he already as.

"I clean them," Max snaps mutinously, going to cross his arms, but immediately aborting the movement with a barely suppressed wince.

He's hurting and he still bound his wings again. Daniel is going to kill someone. A very specific someone.

"I know you do, Max," he says, swallowing his anger like a too big gulp of protein shake, trying to keep his voice soft and level. He knows the fear that hides behind Max's facade.

"Sometimes though, it's not enough to just wash them. You have to actually preen your wings, to keep them healthy, and it's easier to let someone else do it for you."

"I'm healthy!" Max argues, as if he's not standing there, literally unable to do full movements because of how he's treating his wings on the daily. If he didn't think it would get him punched, Daniel would laugh.

"Yeah, but you can be healthier. It would probably make it easier in the car, too, if you could raise both your arms at the same time."

He means it as a joke, but Max seems to take it as a challenge, because he immediately raises his arms above his head, face stony, only betraying his pain with the way he bites his lower lip until it goes white.

Daniel rushes forward, cursing himself internally, and forcing him to lower them again.

"Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

He knows it's the wrong thing to say as soon as it's out of his mouth. Max flinches back, lowering his eyes, shoulders curling even more inwards.

"Fuck you," he spits, voice trembling. Daniel is an idiot.

"No, Max, fuck..." he sighs, dragging a hand over his face and breathing deeply. "I'm sorry."

Max freezes, eyes darting up to look at Daniel's face before snapping down again, tension and confusion hanging around him like a cloud.

"Let's try again, alright? Just listen to me," Daniel says, dredging up all his patience.

Max nods, a tiny movement, fingers tangled up in the hem of his hoodie in what looks like an attempt to keep them from shaking.

"I am not judging you, but I think you would benefit from me preening your wings. If you hate it, or if you want to stop at any time, you'll be free to leave and never do it again. Does that sound okay?"

Max takes his time to consider it, long moments in which Daniel feels his heart beating too fast in his chest, but then nods again.

And then, without any further discussion, he takes off his hoodie and drops down on the pillow.

It makes Daniel's breath stutter, to have such faith put on his hands, almost as much as it makes his heart ache to see how tightly Max's poor wings are bound.

He knows this is his only chance. If he fucks this up, Max's wings will probably never be taken care of again.

He takes a breath, grabs the cloths he had taken out while waiting for Max, and then sits on the small couch behind Max.

Game on.