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souurcitrus · 2 months

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X-Men - Earth 18104

Time-line of the X-Men for my original universe Earth-18104. The events are based in different medias, like the movies, comics and series. Also, I included some of my OCs, as I literally just made this universe for them (and to change stuff I don't like I the stories).

There's a longer list of events of my universe too, including stuff about the Avengers, but I focus more in the X-Men.

This lists goes from 1971 (barely) to 2000, the first part of the Age of Heroes.

List of Events

1971 -

Irene Adler has a vision about the future of mutants. She and Raven Darkhölme start to "prepare for the war", looking for more mutants. They convince Jason Wyngarde to join them.

Erik Lensherr continues to hunt down Sebastian Shaw.

1972 -

The "First Class" of X-Men is founded by Charles Xavier and Moira MacTaggert after they discovered that Sebastian Shaw and his Hellfire Club planned to start a nuclear war against the humans.

They join Darkhölme, Adler and Wyngarde, and then meet Lensherr. They receive help of Fred Duncan and Gabrielle Haller to form the team to fight Shaw.

The first members are Armando Muñoz (Darwin), Vienna Adamsen (Petra), Suzanne Chan (Sway) and Sean Cassidy (Banshee).

The Hellfire Club members are: Amélia Voght, Janos Quested and Adriana Soria.

Most of things are just like the movie, but with different characters.

Except Darwin never dies and Shaw is killed by Erik and later his body is taken by Lady Sinister. Adriana Soria is taken by CIA and Janos Quested escapes.

After the Battle of Cuba, Xavier becomes paralyzed and lives with Gabrielle Haller in Graymalkin Lane; Erik leaves the X-Men with Voght and Wyngarde; Irene and Adler leave too, but in separate ways; Moira goes to Muir Island with the recruits.

1975 -

Sean Cassidy marries his girlfriend.

Weapon Plus erases the memories of the Team X.

1976 -

Charles Xavier marries Gabrielle Haller.

Team X escapes the Weapon X facility. Logan loses his memories and lives in the mountains with James and Heather Hudson.

1979 -

David Haller, son of Xavier and Haller, is born.

Just months after his son's birth, Charles fights the Shadow King, who loses his body and puts his own conscious on David's mind, planning on taking revenge on Xavier in the future.

Afraid of what could happened if she stayed with Xavier, Gabrielle Haller leaves Graymalking Lane and takes her son with her.

1980 -

Pietro and Wanda Maximoff (12) activate their mutations for the first time.

1985 -

Jean Grey (10) manifests her powers for the first time. Xavier takes her to Graymalkin Lane to teach her to control her mutation.

Twenty years after the First Class, with new super heroes showing themselves to the public, Xavier decides to form a new team of X-Men.

1987 -

Bobby Drake (10) manifest his powers for the first time. His parents ask him to keep himself in secret, but Bobby starts to train his powers, wanting to be a super hero.

1988 -

Scott (12), Alex (10) and Gabriel Summers (6) survive a plane crash during a trip with their family.

Scott enters a coma, while his little brothers are taken to different forster homes. Xavier visits Scott with Moira and decides to come back to him after Scott wakes up.

AGE OF HEROES

1989 -

(June)

The Fantastic Four debut as the first super hero team.

(October)

Scott (13) wakes up from his coma after a year, waking his powers by accident. Xavier gives him a Ruby-Quartz visor and invites him to join his new team of X-Men.

Bobby Drake (12) is on a date when he shows his powers in public for the first time. After the town turns against him, because of the hate against super humans increasing, Bobby is save by Scott and goes to Graymalkin Lane.

(November)

Warren Worthington's wing grow and hes unable to hide his mutation anymore. Scott and Bobby go after him and invite him to join the X-Men. Hesitant, Warren (14) accepts.

Later, Charles introduces Jean Grey (14) to them.

1990 -

(May)

The Avengers debut as a super hero team during the Battle of New York.

(April)

During a rugby game, Henry McCoy (16) witnessed a pair of masked thugs trying to rob the ticket booth, and used his mutant abilities to stop them.

Henry participated a special program for gifted young people, founded by Tony Stark. There he met Moira MacTaggert, who took him to Charles and Henry, reluctantly, accept to join the team.

Now with the second lineup of X-Men complete, Xavier began training his new students to hone their powers in his Danger Room specially built by him and the team's old lineup.

1991 -

Wanda and Pietro Maximoff (23) decided to go to America to look for their biological father.

Wolverine left Canada and went to Japan. There, he met Kobayashi Amiko and adopted her as his daughter.

1992

The second class of X-Men graduated in their training: Iceman (14), Angel (17), Beast (18), Cyclops (16) and Marvel Gil (17).

Now calling himself Professor X, Charles Xavier (55) was ready to reveal the new X-Men to the world.

• Meanwhile, Magneto (59) has made his first move against humanity, taking control of a military base in Cape Citadel to launch his missiles at human targets. He was unexpectedly confronted by the X-Men and escaped before being defeated.

Due to his exemplary work on the field, Xavier selected Scott Summers to serve as the team's field leader.

Later they fought the mutant called Vanisher.

Xavier located Frederick Dukes (17), and sent the X-Men to recruit him.

Blob was uninterested in joining them and later attacked the school, but was defeated by X-Men soon.

Gabriel Summers (10) was raised in a foster family, until he decided to run away from his grandparents' house one night, going in search of Scott and Alex.

After getting lost, he was found by a criminal called Jack Diamonds, who took advantaged of his new powers. Gabriel later was saved by the first X-Men (Petra, Darwin, Sway) and taken to Muir Island, where he trained to be a X-Men and choose the name Kid Vulcan.

Magneto founded the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants, recruiting Jason Wyngarde, Amélia Voght, Mortimer Toybnee (14), Astra (20), Blob, Pietro and Wanda Maximoff (24).

They fought the X-Men briefly and then later where defeated.

The X-Men and the Fantastic Four fought the Puppet Master.

The X-Men where attacked by Calvin Rankin, Mimic.

Juggernaut attacked Graymalkin Lane and was defeated by the X-Men, put in a coma by Xavier.

1993 -

James Madrox (14) lost control of hid powers and was found by Moira MacTaggert, who took him to Muir Island, where he joined her X-Men with the codename of Multiple Man.

The X-Men graduated and soon fought Unus, the Untouchable.

Wanda and Pietro Maximoff (25) left the Brotherhood and joined the Avengers.

While living a pacific life in Paris, Gabrielle Haller's husband was killed. During the accident, David Haller (14) manifested his powers.

1994 -

Start of the Arc Z'Nox.

The X-Men find out Scott (18) has a brother. They meet Alex Summers (16) and he joins the team as Havok.

1995 -

(Mesmero and Krakoa)

Bobby (17) and Alex meet Lorna Dane (20). Soon they're kidnapped by Mesmero, who reveled that Lorna was Magneto's daughter.

Mesmero took control of Krakoa, the living mutant island, who once was home for the first mutants of the world. Mesmero and the X-Men discovered a secret nation of mutants that once lived in Krakoa (once known as Okkara).

These mutants were known as Enriched and they punished Mesmero for trying to steal their secrets and hurt Krakoa, who was asked to keep Mesmero trapped in a cell in the insides of the island.

The Enriched asked the X-Men to never tell about their secret nation, Khado, or about them, and the young mutants agreed.

Lorna Dane joined the X-Men as Polaris.

Hank McCoy left the X-Men to work at Brand Corporation.

(Among us stalk the Sentinels)

Believing that the mutant race was a threat to human society, scientist Bolivar Trask created the Sentinels.

To ensure the safety of mutants, Xavier began looking for new members for the X-Men.

The first of these would be his old Banshee friend, Sean Cassidy (43).

He also went after Sabretooth, who turned down his offer because he didn't care about the war between mutants and humans.

Jean (20), Scott (19) and Hank (21) met the mutant Ororo Munroe (28), that agreed to join them and took the code name "Storm".

• Over the next few days, there were many instances of mutants being attacked by Sentinels. Many of them sought refuge in the Xavier Mansion, being protected and kept secret by the X-Men.

At some point, the Sentinels attacked the school, and were defeated by the new group of X-Men.

(The Phoenix)

Reed Richards (32) met with Charles Xavier (58) to discuss the Z'Nox threat, stating that they were still present in Earth's orbit; so the X-Men joined the Fantastic Four on a mission into space to stop the alien invaders.

During the mission, they were caught in a solar flare. Jean Gray (20) was trapped in deep space and absorbed the explosion to give the others time to escape.

Jean came into contact with the Phoenix Force, that allowed her to absorb her energy, sealing itself in her body.

In Chandilar, in the Triagulum Galaxy (M-33), Lilandra feels the presence of the Phoenix.

With the rest of his team reaching the final stretch of their college education, Charles was secretly on Muir Island.

There he met Moira's new recruits, Bolt (14), Multiple Man (16) and Kid Vulcan (13).

Charles tried to recruit Emma Frost, but she refused, already working with the Hellfire Club in secret.

1996 -

Hank McCoy (22) goes through a rough transformation with his mutation, assuming a more bestial appearance.

(Second Genesis).

Charles Xavier (59) soon became aware of a mutant signature on Krakoa and sent his X-Men on a mission to investigate the island.

Meanwhile, the X-Men arrived on Krakoa and realized that the entire island was actually a massive mutant form.

Not only that, they met with Princess Sarala (33), the princess of Khado and the Enriched and Raven, her counselor.

They explained to Cyclops (20) that after they took Mesmero to Krakoa, he was placed in a stone chamber that would keep him asleep; however, the mutant used his powers to reach Krakoa's consciousness and awaken him from his sleep.

Understanding the importance of Krakoa to the Enriched, the X-Men joined them in calming the island. Krakoa then attacked them and, under Mesmero's command, captured them within.

Xavier reached out to Moira and asked her to allow him to use her students to rescue his team of X-Men.

These new X-Men proved to be no match for the island of Krakoa, and only managed to free Cyclops, sending him away while the group seemingly sacrificed their lives to cover their escape.

Scott returned to the Mansion, along with Bolt (15) and Madrox (17).

Wolverine was sent by Department H to fight the Hulk, he was defeated, but later was invited by Xavier to join the X-Men and rescue the other members from Krakoa.

Not only Wolverine, Scott recruited a new team with Banshee (44) and Storm (29), and new members: Sunfire (24), Colossus (18), Nightcrawler (20) and Thunderbird (17).

• This new team of X-Men proved more successful, rescuing the original team and defeating Krakoa and Mesmero.

Krakoa went back to its deep sleep and the Enriched took Mesmero to a different cell. However, Kid Vulcan was nowhere to be seen and Charles erased him from everyone's memories, believing he was dead.

Later, Cyclops became leader of the new team of X-Men.

(X-Men VS Erik the Red and D'ken)

Erik the Red received orders from Majestor Shi'ar D'ken to capture Princess Lilandra, who had fled on a ship to Earth.

The Enriched once again went to warn the X-Men of the threat of the Shi'ar and told them about the first invasion of the Shi'ar earth.

Princess Lilandra arrived on Earth and asked them to help her stop her brother from using the M'kraan Crystal's power to dominate the universe.

Jean Gray (21) awakened the powers of the Phoenix and helped the X-Men into space to rescue Lilandra, and help her stop her brother from using the power of the M'kraan Crystal to take over the universe.

Emperor D'ken controlled the powerful Imperial Guard and directed his force to destroy the X-Men. Fortunately, the X-Men were aided by the Starjammers, a revolutionary crew of space pirates, led by Cyclops' father, the Corsair, and the Enriched.

With the crystal about to shatter and destroy reality itself, Phoenix used his stupendous power to restore it. D'ken went crazy and was dethroned. When the X-Men returned to Earth, a temporarily exiled Lilandra accompanied them.

Jean Gray began having terrible dreams about the Phoenix.

(The second Brotherhood of Mutants)

With the new wave of hatred spread by Senator Kelly, a new Brotherhood of Mutants was formed, led by Mystique (and Destiny, in secret), formed by Pyro (19), Rogue (16) Avalanche (21) and Blob (21 ).

• While "rescuing" some mutant children, the Brotherhood is interrupted by the X-Men, who prevent them from taking the children to use them in their plans.

During the battle, the X-Men have difficulty dealing with Rogue's powers, who copies her abilities.

In the end, they win because Rogue is overwhelmed, and the Brotherhood escapes.

New mutants go to Gaymalkin Lane, among them is Sam Guthrie (14), Kitty Pryde (12) and Alison Blaire (16).

(Dark Phoenix)

The X-Men were captured by the Hellfire Club, its revealed that Jason Wyngarde has been using his power to torture Jean and unleash the Phoenix. They succed and Jean is dominated by the Dark Phoenix.

The powerful entity is defeated with the help of the Shi’ar. Jean Gray regained control once again and decided to sacrifice herself and prevent another disaster.

After Jean Grey's funeral, Cyclops left the team to mourn the loss of his lover. Storm was placed as leader of the X-Men

1997 –

• (Days of Future Past)

• Rachel Summers and Lucas Bishop travel from the future to stop the Brotherhood of Mutants of killing Robert Kelly and triggering their dystopic future. The X-men follow them in their mission and succed in stopping Mystique and her brotherhood.

• Rachel and Lucas are stuck in the past and join the X-Men.

• While he traveled the coutry in his mourning, Scott met Madelyne Prior, who looked exactly like Jean. They become closer and Scott goes back to the house of his grandparents. There he find memories of his Brothers and finds out that Kid Vulcan, that had died in Krakoa, was his brother Gabriel.

• He decided to go back to Salem Center, but promised to Madelyne he would come back.

• The X-Men have their first encounter with the Broods. They defeat the aliens with the help of the Shi’ar and the Starjammers, which leader is Christopher Summers.

• Kitty Pryde meets Lockheed.

• Carol Danvers briefly joins the X-Men, but soon leaves after a fight with Rogue, who had stolen her powers (Danvers did notlost er abilities, only stayed in bed for a while).

• At the same time, Wanda is possessed by the Darkhold and uses her powers to create na ilusiono f a happy Family for herself and Vision. She’s stopped by Strange and the Avengers.

• Scott comes back to the X-Men and confronts Xavier about his brother. He keeps in contact with Madelyne Prior.

• Illyana Rasputin is taken to Limbo. Later she’s saved by the X-Men, but she’s no longer a little girl.

• (The New Mutants)

• During the prolonged period in which the X-Men were kidnapped by the Brood, Xavier's School was rebuilt and became known as the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. Despite not wanting to put any more of her students in danger, Moira convinced Xavier that the mutant children would be in danger one way or another and would need to be trained to fight.

• Thus, the X-Men began to assemble a new experimental team of young X-Men, the New Mutants, and new teachers joined to help with their training: Storm, Nightcrawler, Thunderbird, Sunfire, Firestarter, Lullaby, Banshee, Wolverine, Prestige, Bishop and Colossus.

• This new team was formed by Sam Guthrie (15), Rahne Sinclair (13), Roberto da Costa (14), Danielle Moonstar (15), Doug Ramsey (13), Illyana Rasputin (13) and Xuân Cao Mạnh (14), who has been chosen to bethe leader.

• Later the X-Men were in a conflict with the Morlocks and their leader Calypso.

• Rogue went to the X-Men after she had to have problems controlling Captain Marvel’s powers.

• The X-Men travel to Japan to celebrate Logan’s wending with Yashida Mariko. They met his adopted daughter, Amiko, and help him save Mariko from the Silver Samurai.

• Forge joins the X-Men later.

• Jonh Proudstar (18) brings his little brother, James (14), to study at the Xavier’s Institute.

• Around the same time, Emma Frost created her own group of young mutants at Massachusetts Academy, the Hellions, formed by: Empath, Firestar and Roulette.

• Scott Summers became closer to Madelyne Prior and the two became a couple and he ook her to the X Mansion, where he introduced her to her friends. X-Men were shocked, however, seeing Scott's genuine happiness, they accepted Madelyne into their family and she spent the next few months living with them at the Institute, where she soon discovered she was pregnant.

• As a full-time X-Man, Wolverine was unable to personally care for Amiko (12), but raised her with his fiancée Mariko Yashida.

• Amiko lived with Mariko for some time, enjoying the luxurious life that the head of the Yashida Clan was able to provide. She saw Logan on rare occasions.

• Scott Summers married Madelyne Pryor on the grounds of Xavier Mansion, with most of the X-Men attending the ceremony.

• (Legion)

• David Haller (18) began manifesting his psionic abilities uncontrollably in the real world. Seeing her son suffering from the loss of control of his powers, Gabrielle Haller took him to Muir Island to ask Moira MacTaggert for help.

• MacTaggart called Xavier and he brought with him several of the New Mutants, including Cypher, Mirage and Wolfsbane, Rachel Grey, Scott Summers and Banshee. Upon seeing Xavier, David revealed that it wasn't just him there, there were many others of his alters and hidden in his mind was Amal Farouk, the Shadow King.

• The X-Men joined to stop Frouk and save Davidd. Farouk was removed and expelled from David's mind, who finally had control over his powers and could live in peace with his alters. Even though he still didn't accept that Xavier was his father, knowing why his mother left him, David thanked him.

• David remained on Muir Island for the next few years, being visited by the X-Men from time to time.

1998 –

• (The return of Jean Grey)

• Many months after Phoenix's death, some Khado soldiers heard Krakoa calling them and followed the island to Jamaica Bay, where they found a pod containing Jean Gray's body.

• A few weeks after being found, Jean Gray began to remember what happened before her "death." She later left to go find her friends and returned to be na X-Man.

• Meanwhile, Scott and Madelyne's marriage has become strained. Madelyne resented the fact that Scott was rarely home and that he continued to miss Jean.

• The X-Men were attacked by Mojo. Elizabeth Braddock joined the X-Men after helping them escape the Mojoverse.

• In May, Madelyne Prior gave birth to hers and Cyclops’ son, Nathan Summers.

• Right after, Lady Sinister, Selene Essex, recruited a group of mercenaries to get rid of the Morlocks, whom she believed were a threat the to Evolution of mutant kind. Among these mercenaries, the Marauders, were Sabretooth and Gambit.

• The X-Men went to the tunnels of Morlocks to save the mutants and defeat the Marauders. In the end of the fight, Storm was severely hurt and was lost. While the X-Men believed she was dead, Gambit found her in the tunnels and saved her life.

• Later the X-Men were attacked by the Ravers. During the fight, Jubilee (14), that was living in secret in the X-Men’s base, helped Wolverine save his teammates.

• (Inferno)

• When the X-Men carried out missions, Madelyne Pryor helped them as technical support. Little by little, she was corrupted by the Limbo demon N'astirh, ending up making a deal with him to find her son, becoming the Goblin Queen.

• She soon found out about her true nature: she’s a clone of Jean Grey created by Lady Sinister. Her corruption as the Goblin Queen unleashed Hell on New York in the form of a demonic invasion.

• The X-Men defeated N'astirh, however, in an insane outburst, Pryor put her own son's life at risk, being fought by the X-Men and X-Factor. She was eventually killed in an attempt to take Jean Gray down with her.

• With Madelyne dead, the X-Men traveled to the ruins of the X-Mansion to confront Lady Sinister, who, with Mastermind's help, was telepathically attacking Jean Grey. After a long fight, Cyclops (24) managed to blast Sinister with a full-power optical blast, seemingly destroying her.

• Now without his mother, baby Nathan Summers was raised by his fatherwith the help of the X-Men and Jean Grey.

• In the end, the X-men had to fight the Shadow King once again. Farouk was controlling other mutants to attack the X-Men, but with the help of David Haller and Emma Frost, they defeated him once again.

1999 –

• Wolverine tried to regain his memories and startedto dig into his past with the helpof Jonh Wraith and Nick Fury. He discovered that Silverfox was never dead and it was all an ilusion of Weapon X.

• The X-Men had to fight against the Acolytes and Fabian Cortez, who had kidnapped Luna Maximoff, Magneto’s granddaughter.

• Dealing with his bloodlust and animal side out of control, Sabretooth went to the X-Men searching for Xavier’s help. Different from what he expected, Creed was kept prisioner in the basement.

• Tereza Márquez (OC), Creed’s partner known as Sanguinária, joined the X-Men to take care of him, but still had to keep her job with the Avengers.

• The Inner Circle, who were old allies of Xavier, send two members, Lullaby and Firestarter, to assist the X-Men with their new students.

• The wending of Jean Grey and Scott Summers happened in the gardens of the manor.

• (The Phalanx and Generation X)

• Later, Sabretooth and Tereza Márquez helped Banshee, Emma Frost and Jubilee save a new group of Young mutants from the Phalanx. One of these youngs was Clarice Ferguson (14), she sacrificed herself by using her teleporting powers to save her new friends and was apparently killed while destroying the Phalanx.

• While Sabretooth was sent back to his cell, Banshee and Emma Frost started to train a new team, the Generation X: Jubilee (14), Paige Guthrie (17), Monet St. Crox (16), Everett Thomas (17), Jono Starmore (14), Angelo Spinosa (15) and Nicole and Claudette St. Crox (9).

• The X-Men and the Fantastic Four had to deal with Nanny and Orphan Maker, who captured Young mutants from their parentes, among them Franklin Richards (1), Nathan Summers and Gailyn and Joey Grey.

• The Inner Circle started their plans of waking Apocalypse, with the help of Exodus and Ozymndias. Creed starts to regain his memories.

• When the Inner Circle was discovered by Forge, Creed and Márquez escaped the manor. During the battle that started, the Inner Circle failed in capturing Xavier, but Nathan Summers was infected with a techno vírus that put his life in danger.

• To save his son, Scott send Nathan to the future, wherehe could recieve training and treatingfor the vírus. Wolverine was after a cure for Warren and Psylocke, who were extremely hurt by Creed and Márquez during their escape. He recieved a visit from Ozymandias, who told him that soon Apocalypse would return.

• The same warning was given to the mutants of Khado, who prepared themselves for the “Judgment Day”. The Inner Circle goes searching for the Horsemen of Apocalypse.

2000 –

• With the campaing for presidency of Graydon Creed, the mutants start to feel more threated by the presence of the Sentinels and the Department of Damage Control, na organisation ruled by SHIELD that would arrest any potential dangerous mutant.

• Dr. Cecilia Reyes joined the X-Men.

• (Apocalypse)

• The Inner Circle succeds in their plan of bringing back Apocalypse and his Haralds.

• Kittty Pryde, Jono Starmore and Warren Worthington are kidnapped by the Inner Circle. Apocalypse uses his powers to give Warren new wings, choosing him to be his next Horseman of Death.

• With the help of the Enriched, the X-Men fight Apocalypse, his Army of Darkness, Exodus and the Inner Circle.

• Now the world knew of the existence of the secret nation of mutants, Khado, as well the existence of Wakanda and Krakoa.

#marvel #original universe #au #x men #first class #the original five #jean Grey #bobby drake #scott summers #warren worthington iii #hank mccoy #charles xavier #okkara #Shi'ar #krakoa #brotherhood of evil mutants #x men ocs #oc #citruswriting

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olgbenga-agboola · 9 months

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The Power of Perseverance: How Olugbenga Agboola’s Challenges Shaped the Future of Payments with Flutterwave

It’s hard for a company not to take on the personality of its founders. They’re the ones who set the culture, express the vision, and make those first crucial hires. Luckily for Flutterwave, Olugbenga “GB” Agboola has the kind of work ethic and demeanor that’s built for success.

The way a founder’s personality seeps into their company is plain to see across almost every industry. Jeff Bezos’ ultra-competitive spirit pervades the machinations of Amazon. Apple still follows Steve Jobs’ form-follows-function ethos and emphasis on simplicity. And who can deny that Tesla is the very manifestation of Elon Musk’s idiosyncratic style and outsider positioning?

So how does a conscientious overachiever like Olugbenga Agboola affect a payment services company that has gone from simple startup to Africa’s first unicorn? It may be harder to notice the personality of a tech company focused on finance, but it’s there. It just takes a little bit of digging to uncover how the company seems to reflect everything about how he is and how he conducts business.

Olugbenga Agboola: ‘People Are the Secret Sauce’

For starters, look at how the company has grown.

“I have to admit that I am very people-centric,” Olugbenga Agboola said. “I listen to people a lot. I think of what people will feel. I think of their own career growth, what will work for them. I do this because I realized very early that people are the secret sauce of the company. It’s not our technology. It’s our people.”

A company that focuses on people doesn’t grow according to data trends. It grows according to user needs and employee availability. By that metric, it’s easy to see how Olugbenga Agboola’s outgoing personality and thoughtful disposition are baked into the strategy that’s led Flutterwave to its most recent $3 billion valuation.

“It’s the people that come to work every day that put in their shift, those are the people that matter,” he stated. “So I put them ahead of my investors, ahead of my board.”

That’s one way that Flutterwave has been able to keep growing amid the COVID-19 pandemic and the post-pandemic economic challenges. Flutterwave’s emphasis on employee morale has kept it chugging along at its typical breakneck speed.

As it turns out, when employees feel valued, well compensated, and important, they work harder and stay longer. That ensures that Flutterwave doesn’t suffer from brain drain and that legacy information remains with the company, even as it grows into new markets and launches new products.

The other way that Flutterwave manifests the personality of Olugbenga Agboola is through its product strategy.

“I rely on the Colin Powell rule, which is that you have to be data-aware, not data-dependent,” he said. “When you know too much about something, it’s too late. For example, I imagine that to make a decision, I need just 60% of the information required. By the time I get to 95% or 90% and I’m sure, then it’s too late for a decision to be made. It’s already in the past, and the right time to act is long gone. I believe in that a lot. It’s something that I use in my work, and it’s worked for me all my life. That’s one [piece of] advice that I would give and also to ensure that I do that.”

Flutterwave began by helping large companies navigate payments across national borders. International corporations are great clients because they have lots of money. But instead of continuing to focus solely on the biggest fish, Flutterwave pivoted toward helping small businesses and, eventually, individuals.

Those were moves that seem prescient in retrospect but had a risky feeling at the time. The company made the moves anyway, relying on Olugbenga Agboola’s intuition and understanding of the facts.

“The other thing I do is to trust my gut,” he shared. “That’s something that has always driven me in the right direction and really helped me stay true to what I want to accomplish. It helps me do the right thing and act quickly.”

#olugbengagboola

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thirsty-albedo-main · 3 years

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As the Seasons Come and Go

Kazuha x Reader

Word count: 4000

Tags: Fiends to lovers, GN!Reader, Kazuha tops, Tears, Penetrative sex, Mutual Masturbation, One sided romance, Porn with plot, Porn with feelings

Kazuha has come and gone from your teapot multiple times now. For years you have developed your feelings from strangers to the closest of friends. Now you have become completely smitten with him. But he only arrives in the peak of summer and winter, when the sun and wind are at their harshest. [Movie trailer voice] And this summer, you’ll gather up the courage to ask “Will you lay with me for the night?”

O h god this is 4000 words long u m porn with plot and feelings I guess??? Please forgive me yall.

Time and time again you find yourself watching him leave the small abode you have offered to be his sanctuary in times of hardship. Like the changing of seasons, he comes and goes from the teapot you call home, searching and wandering the landscape in hopes of finding a way to stir the masterless vision he carries from it’s deep slumber. He is inherently mysterious in his eloquence and fleeting in his presence, the act of talking with him always leaving you feeling as if a fresh breeze had come to bring your mind to attention. A wandering samurai who you happened to bump paths with on a dreary summers night has embraced your heart with both gentle winds and words. His smile is euphoric, his sadness earth shattering, and his lingering touches on your shoulders or hands before he bids you farewell yet again like fire starters in your mind and body.

“You have to go already?” you gently asked as he began putting his humble array of belongings into the small pack he carried. “Yes. The scorching sun has calmed its burning gaze for now. Since it is beginning to cool, I must travel while I still can.” His face and hair are brightened in their shade by the light of the sun as you gaze upon his form slowly peeling itself from the grassy bed he was laying in. “Can I expect a visit sooner rather than later? It IS getting pretty hot out there.” You smiled lazily as you always did while napping beside him, concealing the hope woven into your question with the playful tone you reserved for your best friend. “We’ll have to see how merciful this whimsical summer will be. I find myself in cooler nights as of late, so at least there is solace in fall coming soon.” The smile he gave you was not unlike the warm one would feel when stretching out on a sun kissed rock.

“I’ll prepare a bed and some food for you when that time comes then” You replied as your closed your eyes. You pretended to still be sleepy, but in truth, you couldn’t bear to see his back retreating from your sight.

“Thank you. Surely we will cross paths again.” was the hope he voiced.

Those words burned a hole in your heart with the same intensity as the summer heat you found yourself traveling in. Your entire being had ached at the thought of seeing him arrive in the abode you had called home again. You know that someone such as Kazuha couldn’t be restrained from the desire to roam that laid heavy in his soul. It would be wrong of you to commit the sin of tying him down when he had the desire to see new people, experience new things, and further his understanding of the beautiful world he has found himself in.

Yet the way his words held your attention, the way his voice brought solace to you, the way his body would bring you lust, all of it made you hope for more of him and his presence, his being. You would sometimes, under the influence of intense lust and unbearable longing, find yourself running your hands along your body in an effort to satiate your growing need. You mimicked his mannerisms with your hands, how he would run a palm along the small of your back while you stumbled in your climbing, the gentle curl of his fingers as he would run a hand through your hair while you would bare to him your feelings and thoughts, and how his grip felt when he held your hand for a tad longer than necessary while bidding your farewell. With the knowledge of what he does to you potent and heavy in your mind, you finally brought about the resolve needed to tell him how you felt. All of your feelings for him would come to light the next time he allowed himself to enter your domain. This was a promise you made for yourself, as selfish as it may be, you’re ready to accept whatever answer he will give.

- - -

The rain was beating heavily on your form as you wandered down the muddy path that stretched on for miles. The rain was comforting when you found yourself in the safety of a home, far from any of the damaging effects of excessive cold or water, but when you were caught out in the rain like this it only became a source of discomfort. You have forced yourself to continue on through the stormy night until you could find a suitable place to camp, that would be the only way you got proper sleep tonight you decided.. The clouds hung heavy overhead and visibility was proving difficult due to the combination of darkness and rain, yet after squinting into the distance for awhile, you finally discovered some hope for your situation. A light beaming in the darkness. A light from a home? A traveler’s camp? Anything would be fine so long as you were released from the sticky grip of the heavy rain.

Your mind was filled with conflicting thoughts as you saw where the light had come from. The rain was heavy and dreary, yet your heart felt light upon seeing a familiar samurai squatting near a small oil lamp, trying his best to put together a makeshift shelter with local branches and foliage. “Kazuha!” you called out despite the rain attempting to overpower your voice. He raised his head to look in your direction, his keep hearing coming in handy during the onslaught of noise, and he smiled when his eyes had met with yours. For a moment you had felt your face warm up despite it being cold mere moments ago. “You look drenched!” He replies to your call with mirth in his voice “The tempest has forgo its’ kindness for the both of us I see. Here, let me find a secluded spot for us, if you don’t mind me asking for shelter in return that is.”

You didn’t mind at all.

- - -

You two finally found a spot safe enough for you to bring out your teapot. With no hesitation, you found yourself welcoming Kazhua inside to dry off and relax for the rest of the night with you. The rain followed into your teapot of course, but it was a kinder rendition of the noisy forest and harsh clouds that you had just escaped. A small drizzle lingered in the air to cool landscape and the skin, its’ presence heavenly in comparison to beating rain and howling winds. Your abode was a small one. A modest bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen was all that a traveler like you needed. It was simple and having a place of your own to weather out the harsh conditions was more than enough to satisfy your basic needs. Kazuha came in by your side and the two of you laughed lightly at the urgency you two had shown previously, rain sticking wet hair to your faces and necks as reminders of what has passed. “Go ahead into the bathroom and get those wet clothes off” you stated to your travel companion as you shrugged off your cloak and hung it up on the porch. “I’ll get the fireplace ready.” Kazuha took a moment to smile with a distant glimmer in his eye at you, not moving from the spot he was in in favor of keeping an eye on you. “What?” you goaded with a smile.

“It just reminds me of when we first met. You said that to me then too, all those seasons ago.” And feeling happy with his statement, he finally wandered his way into your bathroom to change, leaving you stunned.

Archons you felt as if your heart was going to burst.

Clothes were now hanging on the backs of chairs, placed in proximity of the fireplace and it’s warmth, enough to dry but not enough to catch fire. Plates were on a small drying rack after a meal for two was prepared, the light dripping of water from their forms akin to the rain seeping off you and your companion when you entered earlier this evening. Warm and soft clothes encompass your form in a reassuring manner, reminding you that you were safe and sound, that you were home. It also reminded you that a piece of the outside world was here with you in the form of your friend Kazuha. He stretched out next to you on your floor near the fireplace, undoing his ever crooked ponytail as if to reinforce your point. It was almost like this was meant to happen, that he was meant to lay here. With you.. You had to suck in a breath of air as you realized how domestic all of this was.

Kazuha looks to you for a moment with soothing worry and slight curiosity in his eyes at your sudden intake of breath. “Something wrong? You didn’t get hurt in the rain did you?” The way his eyes light up in concern reminds you of your own fears regarding the situation you two are in, that all of this will end soon. Summer is reaching its’ ending and winter seems so impossibly out of your reach, an unrealistic time to wait before you see him again. He reaches a cruel hand to your face and takes your cheek into his palm with a tenderness that makes the burning in your skin unbearable. “What ails you, my friend? I hear your heart beating so much harder than normal.” The thread of self restraint snaps and curls its’ fibers within your being as you reach out to take his face in your hands. Your nose brushes against his own as you shift closer to him. As you slowly and carefully take his lips with your own. It is a chaste kiss that leaves as many feelings you can manifest on the corner of his lips. His eyes are wide with shock as you pull away, your face coming back into his vision red and shameful as you voice your desires.

“You’re going to be leaving soon. All of the leaves of fall will be behind us, rotting under layers of snow by the time that you and I get to meet again. Please.” You fist your hands into his cotton shirt, your vain attempt of keeping yourself composed now that the words are spilling out. “Lay with me at least once before you go-” His lips coming to take yours interrupts the pleading request you had for him. Euphoria washes over your body at the returned contact, your skin aches at the way his hands come to hold your face, how he lingers there as if he were searching for the warmth of your emotions with his fingertips alone. The kiss between the two of you rising like summers heat as you loop an arm around his shoulders, deepening this bliss by closing the proximity. His tongue comes to lick the inside of your mouth and he explores the feeling of kissing you with the vigor you could only imagine in the small fantasies you would have of him on lonesome nights.

The feeling is gone much too soon for your liking when he speaks up, breaking the kiss to do so. “I’ve waited so long, withstood so many seasons, in the hopes of kissing you with such passion one day.” He puffs out the words with a warm and blissful smile on his face, breathless from the intense kissing you two were partaking in. Your mind lags behind, caught up in the beauty he held when his eyes would crinkle with mirth, and it takes you a moment before the weight of his words come bearing down on you. “You.. you did-?” Is all you’re able to mumble out in your dumbstruck state before his mouth is on yours again, his passion encompassing your form in heated touches. The pleasure and goosebumps running over your skin leaves you with such a burning desire in not only your heart but your core as well. Knowing that if nothing else, he too wants you like this, is a revelation that leaves your mind feeling like the fog that lingers over a still pond and your body as sensitive as its’ rippling surface. Hands are running up your sides with fingernails barely scraping, causing the hairs on your body to raise in attention. Your fingers are laced in his hair and tugging softly at the strands, wringing out soft moans for you to devour with fervor. One of his legs finds itself slotted between your thighs, tempting you with its slow yet sweet pressure against your groin as it rocks back and forth.

Your hands squeeze his thighs firmly, your grip delectable and exciting to Kazuha apparently, because his hips give a small jerk forward in reply.

Archons you’ve both wanted this for far too long, haven’t you?

You’ve both become unsatisfied in your restrictive clothing, quickly doing your beth to be rid of the offending clothing in favor of feeling each other’s skin.You smooth your hands out against his back as he comes to lean over you, slotting himself in between your thighs as his trained arms come to support himself above you. “I love your being, your soul.” you hear him confess as he comes down to mouth at your ear, the words and movements sensual enough to cause you to shudder. “And I certainly love hearing every stuttering gasp and repressed moan you have given me” You mentally curse his sensitive hearing as his breath fans over your neck. “This peaceful melody you’ve given me… I hope this means I have been performing to your liking?” He mumbles into your skin before nipping it, soothing it with careful kisses in return. “Of course you’re performing well.” you mutter as you raise your hips to grind your sex against his erection, eliciting a small moan from him as revenge for his teasing words. “Or else I wouldn’t be looking like this.”

He stops his ministrations on your neck to sit up and admire your form. “And what a sight it is.” He smiles at you with genuine love in his eyes, passion and lust ever lingering, but taking a back seat to the pure admiration he holds for you. It’s enough to make your heart constrict with longing, the shutter running though your body causing you both to let out a small gasp at the stimulation on your groins. This teasing and aching are more than enough, you decide with a small huff of frustration. “Kazuha, I have some aloe vera in the bedside table, please.” You keen as you begin shuffling off your underwear. He understands your request and is quick to follow your plea as you toss the undergarment to the side. He gives a small lustful glance to you as he returns with the bottle, already ridding himself of his bottoms as he gazes upon your form.

He settles between your legs once more as he uncaps the bottle and allows the slick aloe vera to coat his fingers, running the liquid over his joints so as to warm it up before slathering it against your entrance. He puts the bottle to the side for a moment to focus his hands on the task of spreading you out, one careful finger slipping into you with trepidation. The feeling for you could only be described as erotic as you watched him begin working you, almost causing your hands to drop the bottle as you pour some aloe vera over your own fingers. He gives a small hiss in pleasure when your slicked hand wraps around him but he makes no effort to stop you from pumping his erection and coating it in your makeshift lube, causing you to smirk in content. You’ve given him this pleasure, his red and weeping head proof of your work, precum beading at the tip with every pump and his wimpers in delight every time you thumb the slit crowned on top. Taking your hand a little further, you reach to grab at his base, pressing your thumb into a particular vein when pleasure strikes up your spine and shocks you into stopping your movements. Ah, he’s scissoring you open with his fingers now. You weren’t even paying attention to him putting a second finger in with how preoccupied you were with jacking him off, but he certainly has your attention now. A small smirk lingers on his lips as you let out a shaky moan of desire. “Yes, please, Just like that..” You order as your hips coming up to voluntarily fuck yourself onto his fingers in shallow thrusts.

“Beautiful.” He coos as he slips his fingers out from your hole, the small amount of drag in the way he does so leaving your head spinning and your lower half longing for more. He gently drags your hips closer, propping your legs up on his hips while he presses the tip of his length against your hole, experimentally grinding the head against your aching entrance in hopes of testing the waters. You gently bat his arm in frustration glaring up at him with no heat to your gaze. “I’ve been longing for you, yet you still take the moment to relish in teasing me?” He chuckles and with his face sweetly red, he gives you a caste kiss on your lips. “I won’t be denying you any longer. I was just taking a moment to admire the sounds of slicked skin and the smell of heavy lust.” Of course his poetic tendencies come to light right when you are this close to having him in you. Though his head coming to stretch your hole is all that was needed for your forgiveness to be found, your steadying your breathing in an effort to make his entrance smoother.

He comes to lean over you as he slowly penetrates you, his arms on either side of your head now as his erection fills you out, the sensation leaving you shaking in his lap with goosebumps. Kazuha is not unaffected by this either if the small twitches from his erection and the shaky whines escaping his throat are anything to go by. Your slicked skin comes to meet his as you wrap your arms around his neck, readying yourself as he finally bottoms out and slots his thighs against your ass. “The pace?” He mumbles the question into your hair as he comes to hold you against him, one hand smoothing out over the back of your head while the other gently grasps your hips. “Quick.” you whine to his shoulder in desperation. “Hard so I will feel it for awhile.” So you have something to linger on while he is gone, your mind reminds you. You almost feel tears welling up as he begins thrusting into you at just the pace you asked, the pleasure taking over your body with electric shocks of arousal and need. His balls coming to smack against your ass, the heavier breathing combined with sweet moans coming from Kazuha, finally having your fantasy of your best friend sleeping with you brought to reality, it is almost too much. You rake your nails down his back in an attempt to gather more purchase, your mind blank now that you’re being pleasured like this.

He shifts his position to hit you deeper, allowing you to writhe in the euphoria of his length stretching and filling you. Your thoughts dim and your words turn to much. “Please! please, Kah-” You slur out as he keeps his intense pace. He holds you so gently, and his words are filled with praise and love as he brings you closer and closer to the edge, the fall looking so tempting as it leers ever closer. He bites into your shoulder lightly as his hips begin to stutter in their pace, rocking and grinding into you as he loses his precision. You, in your worry to make sure he’s alright, lean back just enough to get a glance of his face and the sight of him makes you clench around the wanderer. Kazuha’s face is completely a wreck, red and flushed, speckled in sweat slicked hair and, the most shocking of all, tears.

The sight of him sends you over the edge with a harsh push. Your eyes screw shut and legs spasm as you cling to him tighter, hoping he will help you weather out the intense storm that is your orgasm as it ravages your body. Your orgasm causes waves to ripple though your body, and it sends Kazuha off the edge as well after a few lagging thrusts. Your body begins to loosen its’ hold on the samurai as his cum pulses into your hole, filling you further and adding to the pleasure you feel when it begins oozing out from between your thighs. The heavy breathing and sighs of comfort linger in the air for awhile as you both take a moment to cool off from your activities. Archons, you traveled on foot all day and here you were having vigorous sex in the evening. The combination of things made you feel so, so incredibly tired while you two caught your breath.You are so spaced out from your orgasm, your body weary from never experiencing something so emotionally and physically charged as this whole evening was before.

Your eyes are barely able to stay open as Kazuha begins untangling himself from you some unknown amount of time later, his words like muffled distant conversation as you try to keep yourself awake and aware. He’s lifting you and moving you to your bedroom, you feel a cool cloth brush over your face and thighs, you feel some cool water down your throat, but all of it feels so disheartening and cruel knowing he won’t be coming back for awhile after this. You just wanted to lay with him for one night and then put the flames of this desire out for good, or at least that is what you told yourself. Sleeping the pain off seemed leagues easier than dealing with the sorrow you’ll feel if you let him pamper you, is what your mind rationalizes before you drift off to sleep.

That is to say, you were not prepared at all for what awaited you when you woke up the next morning. Despite Kazuha always getting up early and mentioning just the night before that he planned to leave, you find him cooking something in your kitchen, working hard to make something for you both to eat. When he welcomes you to the table with the warmest of smiles, you can’t help but feel gobsmacked by the fact that he is still here. With some assistance of course, he leads you to the table to eat.

“Wait you really thought I would just leave the morning after a confession and love making session like that?” He looks shocked at the explanation you shared with him over breakfast (lunch?). The sunlight drifting in through the window making you shrink in on yourself a tad, as if nature itself was putting the spotlight on you for scrutiny. “I thought…that you would head out by morning. You know the whole ‘the world and my mind will both grow dull lest I travel’ stuff and what not.” Your face red as you take another small helping of rice into your mouth in embarrassment. Kazuha gives a small smile your way as he stands up. You think he’s going to pull one of his old friendly gestures and bat you on the head for saying such things, but instead the most tender and chaste kiss is left on the corner of your mouth. You eyes look at him with shock as he pulls back to gaze at you lovingly.

“Instead of worrying about the idea of holding me back…” He takes your hands in his and runs his thumb along the back of it. “Of course. Only if you desire it. But how about we try wandering through this life together? You and I are both travelers after all-.”

You’re already hugging him, your heart elated and your soul as warm as hot summer.

#genshin impact smut #genshin smut #ARI/Speaks #ARI/Kazuha

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sunset-embers-warriors-designs · 3 years

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I have several ideas about how I would have written Starclan’s function in warriors and I MUST write them down I must express them. I have two different ideas, one in which I maintain the canon fact that Starclan cats can fade/be killed, and another in which I do away with the fading thing.

First, a few things I would want for Starclan regardless of whether or not the spirits can fade:

- All cats, regardless of the age they die at, are given a full warrior name. Kits or apprentices who die early are either named by their leaders at their vigil and carry that name to Starclan, or they’re named by Starclan spirits.

- After a leader dies, the -star suffix is removed and they return to using their warrior suffix as a Starclan spirit. Perhaps the -star suffix is given up right at the moment of death, or the -star suffix is given up after the leader ceremony of the succeeding leader to indicate an official transfer of leadership.

- The point behind everyone having a warrior name in Starclan as opposed to any of the “determined by status” suffixes (kit/apprentice/leader) is to further express that all cats are equal in Starclan. There aren’t any clan borders in Starclan’s hunting grounds, and neither should there be different ranks.

No Fading Starclan:

- Cats in No Fading Starclan are given otherworldly wisdom upon entering Starclan, regardless of the age of the cat. All of Starclan shares the same knowledge of the past/present/future.

- However, this knowledge takes a form such that Starclan aren’t able to express it to the living in clear and understandable ways, which is why they speak in riddles when delivering prophecies. Like Starclan is trying to translate some kind of language of the universe into meows and at most it does like a google translate quality.

- Individual Starclan cats each have a limited amount of spiritual/magical energy which they can use to interact with the living world. The longer the clans all exist, the more manpower Starclan has, which explains why their abilities from arc 1 to arc 4 grow from “clouding over the moon during gatherings” to “entering the living realm to fight a ghost battle.”

- Similarly, the Dark Forest spirits have their own kind of energy that grows the more cats they have in their realm. However, as a punishment for their sins, they don’t get their godly wisdom, and their ability to reach out to the living is a little foggy. They ARE, however, able to latch on to cats who have negative energy surrounding them, and will try to bring troubled souls into their ranks prior to their deaths so they can gain more energy when those cats DO die.

- In this AU, spirits can’t be killed, so the Starclan/Dark Forest battle ghost casualties (Tigerstar, Hawkfrost, Spottedleaf) will not have died. Instead, the buildup to the battle is the Dark Forest attempting to take power from Starclan by reaching out en masse to the troubled living cats with the end goal of “replacing” or at least being on par with Starclan in terms of power, in order to maybe fight their way into the good afterlife or continue reeking havoc as revenge on Starclan/the living. The battle itself is then the Dark Forest’s attempt to overthrow Starclan and gain control over the living clans to ensure they stay in power. Ivypool’s role of convincing her fellow Dark Forest trainees to fight for their clans/Starclan instead then takes away the power the Dark Forest had built up for itself, and having this rejection of the Dark Forest’s influence become a part of the clan’s history/culture keeps the Dark Forest from rising back up. Not to mention, the Dark Forest having used to much energy to manifest and do battle will have left them drained, especially after their defeat, and even if Dark Forest cats have the ability to replenish their individual powers somehow, it would take a long time to do it.

- Spottedleaf continues to exist, as previously mentioned, but as a general rule in every single one of my AUs she and Firestar aren’t romantically interested in one another at all. The only interest Spottedleaf would ever have had in Firestar was because the “Fire Alone Will Save Our Clan” prophecy was Her prophecy, she was the one to interpret it, and she felt responsible to see it through even after her death. When Firestar dies in the battle, Spottedleaf feels that her role in that prophecy is finally through and she just does regular Starclan cat things like climbing starry trees and eating ghost mice.

- In the case of the great battle, spirits who have manifested on the physical plane I think should still have the ability to kill the living, so the deaths in the great battle still happen just for the sake of being consistent with who’s alive in what arc.

- Also regarding the great battle, perhaps Tigerstar’s spirit can kill Firestar’s mortal form, gloat about it, but then Firestar’s spirit rises up and with his Starclan Spirit Powers he takes Tigerstar down. I just think that would have been cool.

Fading Starclan:

- In Fading Starclan, there are actually two levels of Starclan, but the living clans only KNOW about one. The living clans know Lower Starclan, the Starclan made up of recently dead/not-faded spirits who impart the prophecies onto the living. Lower Starclan are Also recipients of the prophecies they then translate to the clans, but they don’t fully understand them and believe these premonitions to be coming from some essence of the universe.

- In fact, the prophecies are first foretold by Upper Starclan, which is made up of the energies of the faded spirits. Upper Starclan spirits, since they’re faded, lack the identities they had in life and are more accurately interpreted as a hivemind. Like a God with a million faces. Upper Starclan are the ones who block the moon with clouds, control the weather, and do stuff like set fires in the living world to impart prophecy.

- Lower Starclan functions more like a transitional spiritual plane. It’s a place for the spirits to rest from their mortal lives, and then eventually shed their previous personalities and ascend. Lower Starclan being given the prophecies first to then give to the living gives the living cats more reason to listen, because these messages are coming from spirits who are still personable and likely cats who the living interpreters knew and respected in life.

- The Dark Forest is a place to hide away the spirits of cats who would impede on the goals of Upper Starclan. They eventually fade away too and are permitted into Upper Starclan because they’re no longer a threat without their mortal memories/personalities getting in the way of their roles as God(s).

- The Tribe of Endless Hunting’s spirits also fade away into Upper Starclan because the two groups have the same origin. Like Endless Hunting and Lower Starclan manifested because of the split in the groups and Upper Starclan just said “Okay We can work with this”

- True Reincarnations only occur when an Upper Starclan spirit returns to a mortal form. Jay’s Wing, Lion’s Roar, and Dove’s Wing’s spirits had all faded into Upper Starclan but were reborn as new mortals in order to fulfill the Power of Three Prophecy. This also explains why they have “the power of the stars”, they were part of the Cat God Collective prior. Cinderpelt/Cinderheart was a “reincarnation” that was NOT sanctioned by Upper Starclan, which is why Cinderpelt and Cinderheart have separate souls.

- The reason the Power of Three thing happened was because Upper Starclan saw their Dark Forest Timeout corner spirits being naughty and worried that those spirits weren’t as out of the way and not hurting their goals as previously presumed. The battle was orchestrated to reinstate faith in Starclan and have some of the more troublesome Dark Forest Spirits fade so they would stop causing trouble. Technically, Tigerstar, Brokenstar, and Hawkfrost are all part of Upper Starclan after the great battle, but none of them have those identities anymore, or at the very least, those identities are not “in use.”

- The only spirits that can walk in Both Upper and Lower Starclan are legendary/historical figures like the clan founders and probably other significant cats who have legends made of their life experiences.

- Goosefeather, by some mistake or intention(?) was granted a mental connection to Upper Starclan instead of just Lower Starclan like other medicine cats, which is why his visions were so intense and so far into the future, and just the sheer number of them. He could see Lower Starclan spirits as well like Beetail because I guess if you can connect to Upper Starclan than Lower Starclan is just a side effect.

- Spiresight and Shadowsight might also have this connection to Upper Starclan? Idk I can’t decide. Shadowsight did as a kit at least, but perhaps Upper Starclan decided to chill after seeing how poorly Goosefeather’s connection turned out for him.

- Upper Starclan’s concept otherwise is very vague. Their goals seem to be to ensure the continuation of the clans, which ensures their growth and power, but power for what reason? idk what to do with that

Since the Broken Code arc isn’t complete at this time I’m not sure what direction I wanna take for either Fading or Not Fading Starclan to explain Starclan’s disappearance or Ashfur’s ability to mess with other spirits... perhaps in the Fading version, Ashfur is the one Lower Starclan cat to discover Upper Starclan and figures out how to tap into his full spiritual ability before shedding his mortal personality and uses this to cause chaos. idk what to say for Not Fading rn tho

#warriorcats #warrior cats #warrior cats headcanon #warrior cats au #starclan #power of three #omen of the stars #the broken code

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wesimpforxiao · 3 years

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Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 9.3

Childe elected to ignore your groan of pain when he yanked you to your feet. "No hard feelings, comrade."

"I-I'm gonna kill you," you breathed. "I'll kill you and that damned witch if it's the last thing I do." A cold hand pressed to your side while the harbinger threw your other arm over his shoulder to escort you inside.

"I suppose I'll have to train you then if that's your goal."

He wasn't joking; the two of you would remain at a stalemate until your strength grew. He taught you--what you assumed was--almost everything he knew, though for you to reap the full benefits of his knowledge would take years of training. Despite this he pushed you over and over again, every day, after the wound he gave you closed. He didn't give you the courtesy of healing completely before initiating fights with you. He didn't go easy on you either--but it's not like you would've wanted him to in the first place. At least your sparring sessions gave you an outlet to take out your frustrations on.

You didn't count the days that passed. You didn't call for Xiao. You didn't rely on him to save you when all is said and done. It was time to rescue yourself; if you overran the palace on your own, then other nations wouldn't need to get involved on your behalf. If the palace fell, no one except you would be held responsible. You were okay with that. If it meant Xiao, Aether and Zhongli would be excluded from the wrath of the cryo archon, then your struggles were more than worth it.

Yet with every passing day, more and more Fatui agents were injected with the serums that contained your blood--and survived. The only thing that made their successful adaptation possible was the sealing of your and Xiao's bond. With that thought in mind, you were growing increasingly impatient. You were the one that insisted upon training for most of the day, not Childe. You were the one looking for a fight.

"Why're you doing this?" You asked one day while your hand absently trailed down to the fresh scar on your side where he had impaled you.

"Doing what?"

"Training me. Isn't it a stupid move to train someone how to fight when they're intent on killing you? If I was you, I would've just let me bleed out in the snow back then."

"If I didn't train you, I would be missing out on one of the best fights of my life."

"Is that supposed to flatter me?"

"It's the truth. Where else am I supposed to find a worthy opponent? At my current power level, I'd have more luck with creating one." Childe conjured his bow and twirled it in his hand, seemingly debating something that was on his mind. "With your improved skills, I think we'd be able to take the other harbingers."

You froze. "What? Why would you say that? Whatever happened to your undying loyalty?"

"My loyalty for the Tsaritsa and my respect for my coworkers are two entirely different matters. What I really care about is fighting. It's been so long since I've had an exhilarating battle, even after Aether showed up. I would give anything to feel that thrilled again. And that, dear ojou-chan, is where you come in."

"I'm not fighting you for the thrills. I will kill you, I'll make sure of it." It's insulting that he'd even look at your anger as a type of entertainment! The nerve of this guy--

"Well until then I think we could stir up quite the trouble, you and I, don't you think?" His eyes finally left his weapon and locked onto you.

"...What exactly are you implying, Tartaglia?" Narrowed suspicious pupils returned his mischievous ones.

He didn't answer, instead leaving you with an ominous smirk and returning to the palace walls. Why should you trust a word that fell from his mouth after the Lantern Rite stunt he pulled? Maybe a small part of you wanted to believe he had some inkling of good in him, but you forced that wishful thinking down into the depths of your soul. Childe betrayed you so many times; it was in his nature to do so. He would never be done deceiving you either. You were sure of it despite the doubts that weighed on your mind.

.........................

"Bow before Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa." La Signora crossed her arms over her chest when you just glared at the dark throne that sat beneath the shadows.

"I think not."

The clicking of the harbinger's heels echoed in the silent room as everyone held their breaths. No one dared stand up to the cryo archon; it was unthinkable, even considered treason to question her actions. This would be the first meeting with the god since you formed a contract with her. And yet despite your quivering knees, you didn't remove your disrespectful glare from the throne.

"I wasn't asking." Fingers gripped your chin and forced you to look Signora in the face at an uncomfortably close distance. "You know the drill. Bow."

A beat of silence hung heavily in the air and then an awkward cough came from one of the Fatui advisors to your far right. You didn't blink. "Did I stutter?"

Signora's lips curled into a half-amused smirk before her fingers let go of your chin and were replaced by a palm slapping you instead. Her nails broke skin, but your expression never changed even when the stinging pain rang through your ear. "Have you forgotten who you serve?"

"She's not my god."

"Maybe not the one you worship, but I am the one you serve," the Tsaritsa leaned forward from her place on the throne and gestured for the Fair Lady to return to her side. "Tell me, why did you request to see me?"

A quick glance was sent Childe's away as if to check yourself. You had decided it best to at least try the peaceful way out before throwing yourself into a suicide mission. If worse came to worse, at least you'd be able to put your new knowledge to the test. "I'm no longer working for you." The archon's silence urged you to continue. "You don't need me here anymore. You got what you wanted. I'm going to return to Liyue."

"Is that so?"

"I will leave regardless of your answer."

"And you think I'd just let you walk out of here after all I've done for you?" The temperature dropped, but it displayed an emotion that you couldn't put your finger on. "I gifted you your vision, spared your life and that of your friends, and you insult me in return?"

What is this feeling of dread in my stomach? Your fists tightened and you took a deep breath to steady your nerves. "The trials are over now that Dottore's injections work. That was our deal, was it not? You want to break our contract? I thought you were more credible than that," you tested.

"I know what you've been thinking," the archon's thin lips formed a sinister grin. "I know you're plotting to cause an uproar, and I am telling you now that you will fail. Heed my words, Mezzetin, you are and always will be under my control."

"Wh-What did you just say...?" Your heartbeat drummed loudly in your ears and you knees felt like they would give out beneath you. This...This happened before. When did she say that? Where did I hear these words from? Cold, desolate eyes watched you carefully as the room spun beneath your feet. "Stay...away..."

"You work for me, not the other way around. If you leave now, I'll give the order to kill those friends of yours. You're not done until I say you're done."

"You wouldn't--!" Bile burned the back of your throat, and a shaky hand covered your mouth in case you suddenly couldn't hold it in. "You...you..." An unsettling realization came to light.

"Do you understand the position you're in, Mezzetin?"

"It was...You gave me those nightmares! Those were all you?"

"You don't think I'm oblivious to your desires, do you? You will always be under my control."

"If you dare touch him I'll--!" Hundreds of shards manifested behind you and simultaneously shot at the throne. The more that shattered against the seat and back wall, the more that manifested and replaced them.

The ones that barreled nearest to the Tsaritsa diverted their path and shattered against the back wall like they had a mind of their own. Signora used her catalyst to redirect the remaining shards to you. Luckily none of them landed a strike on your skin, but a charged arrow of Childe's landed before your feet and you slipped on the forming ice. His hydro blade was immediately at your throat, along with Signora hovering over you with an annoyed look on her face. The three of you were surrounded by Fatui officers in an instant; despite their capabilities, they were slower than the harbingers.

"If she makes a move, kill her," the archon calmly ordered, completely unbothered by the commotion.

Signora had her men drag you away to the all-too familiar exit that led to the cells beneath the palace. They forced your head forward so you didn't see the Tsaritsa recline back in her seat and into the shadows.

The archon swiped her finger across her pale cheekbone and warily inspected the fresh blood that had run down the side of her face. I missed one? One of your shards did manage to hit her. Such a measly attack shouldn't have injured me, she thought as she stared at her fingers in awe and concern. While your power had grown to a certain extent thanks to Childe's training, it was by no means anywhere near equivalent to his--much less equivalent to a god's. Your strikes, while powerful, shouldn't have been able to hurt the cryo archon. Yet here she was, staring at the blood you drew from her.

She recalled the wild look in your eyes when you decided to attack her. Such a beautiful, pitiful sight that held an immeasurable lack of sanity and rational thought. Your rage was feral, but just like a wild animal, so was your fear of being caged. She could see it in your stance; you were all bark and little bite. The soft interior within her hardened heart actually admired your bravery...only a little, though. If she were to achieve her goals, that flame of admiration would quickly be extinguished since it had no place in such a cruel world.

Her thumb smoothed over her bloodied fingers while she thought quietly to herself. It shouldn't have been possible to harm her. Not on your own, not even with your vision. It was then that it dawned on her the true meaning of your bond with Morax's sole-surviving warrior adeptus.

So this is the power of the Vigilant Yaksha.

#genshin impact #xiao genshin impact #genshin impact xiao #say my name and ill be there #xiao fanfiction #genshin x reader #xiao x reader

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whump-a-la-mode · 3 years

Note

more comfort for magician assistant villain please? continuation of that one

Yeah! Of course. Thank you so much!

There’s comfort here just. You gotta squint. Also a dog so its comfort for you guys.

Continuation from here.

CW//Nightmare sequence, scopophobia, stagefright, dehumanization, pet whump, compared to an animal, trauma (soooo much trauma), regretting escape, positive thoughts towards whumper

The laughter of the audience cracked the air like thunder-- shaking the very oxygen with its cacophonous uproar.

Usually, Villain did not join in with the din of the audience, but now, they had no choice. The screams falling from their mouth were not of their own control.

At the very least, their terror made them feel as though there was no control to be had over their own desperate howling. Nor was there any control they could manifest over the quaking shivers that rippled through their body like a disturbed lake’s surface.

No. They had no control, no control at all. Because they were in their kennel.

Hero had found out. Villain knew not how, but they had found out. They knew the terror that the tiny steel box struck through them-- and they found it to be nothing but positively hilarious.

“We’ll just have to abandon our old act.” They’d smirked. “We have something much more entertaining, now.”

A new act. Being wheeled onto the stage in a covered crate, presented like a meal to be feasted upon. And, when the cover was torn away, the laughter began.

Their mitted hands slammed in desperation against the bars, but they did not so much as budge. The solid steel construction was as sturdy as it was minuscule. There was no room to turn around, hardly room to breathe. They couldn’t hide from the thousands of staring eyes, the blaring lights, the screams and the uproar. Even as they shrieked themself, pleaded, pleaded for their kennel to be covered once more, their words were treated as only the comedy act’s cherry on top.

And, beside the cage, Hero drank in the glory. They were speaking, words sizzling through the air as lightning strikes and eclairs, but their words were nothing but noise to their captive.

Because dogs did not speak.

They wanted so desperately to leave, to hide, to curl up in the corner of their cell and sob until the world fell away. But there was no cell. There never had been.

There was nothing. Nothing beyond the stage.

“Come here, buddy. Good boy, c’mere.”

Villain head swiveled on its axis, though the tight confines tried to prevent even as a movement so small. The noise, where was it coming from? It wasn’t Hero’s voice. And how could they be expected to come when they were kenneled?

Were they planning to punish them for failing an impossible task?

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Good dog! Good dog.”

The words made Villain’s mouth grow dry, tongue sticking to the roof of it. Good dog, good dog, good dog...

“Good boy, Hydro!”

At once, the stage lights blinked out. The audience’s shouts too disappeared, though they clung on in the form of ringing in Villain’s ears.

They could breathe. The kennel was letting them breathe.

They couldn’t feel its walls. Where was the kennel? Where was the stage? Where were they?

A single blink, and the world of the show fell away, replaced by hues of blue and off-white, and the feeling of fleece on their skin.

Where were they? Their vision at last agreed to refocus, though it showed them little more than the remnants of a repaired popcorn ceiling. In an instant, however, that too was blocked out by the shadow of a human figure.

“Oh- Good morning. I didn’t realize you’d be waking up quite so soon.”

It wasn’t Hero. Hero would never say good morning. Not to a dog.

“Wh....” They managed, though the scratchiness of their throat made the noise come out as more of a grovel.

“Hey, hun, they’re waking up.”

“Oh, okay.”

With the trodding of footsteps, the owner of the second voice soon emerged. That voice was familiar, somehow, though it did not make them shake like the voices of most of the heroes did.

Villain blinked, once, then twice, until the figures above them became solid. Two people. Two strangers. Neither wore uniforms of any sort, nor any insignias. Not even nametags...

“It’s good to see you awake again.” The second stranger spoke, tone soft.

“How are you feeling?”

Who in the world were these people? They certainly weren’t heroes.

“Mmm... hurts.”

“You got thrown through a river for, like, two miles.” The first stranger commented. “I’m not surprised that it hurts. I have no idea how you didn’t drown.”

A river. The river. The fence. They’d fallen off, because of the gas, and-

Villain jolted upright, only then noticing that they had been lying down at all. Their head spun, but willpower kept them conscious.

A living room. A house, complete with DIY wall decor and an honest mess. It was small. Cozy.

Civilian.

And-

Bark!

The noise made them jump halfway out of their own skin, gaze swiveling to the source.

A dog, in the middle of the room. A real dog, fur and lolling tongue and all. Some kind of retriever, they thought, pelt woven with hues of cream and gold.

“Now, you are going to show me just how well you can obey-- or I will have your stay here extended until, when I take out that gag, you bark. Got that?”

A shiver tore through Villain’s spine.

“I guess we should probably introduce ourselves.” The second stranger began, casting a glance back at the golden-furred animal. “Um, this is our place, by the way.”

“Oh.” Villain murmured, struggling to focus their gaze on the person speaking.

“My name’s Spouse.”

“I’m, um-”

The two figures shared a glance.

“You can call me Civilian. It’s nice to meet you, even though I’m sure this is... a little weird.”

“Mmm.” Villain struggled to hum in agreement. “Where...”

“Well,” Spouse began. “I was just out walking Hydro, that’s the dog, and I kinda found you on the river bank? I don’t know if you remember that. Anyways, you said not to call emergency services, and I didn’t know what to do, so...”

“I’m a doctor. Kind of. I’m a resident. So we figured we could try to help.” Civilian added. “It’s not a lot, but... You’re alive.”

“Yea....”

“Spouse?” The figure looked to their partner. “I think Hydro is scaring them. Could you take him outside a sec?”

“Yeah, ‘course.” The other nodded, moving to another part of the building. With a click of their tongue, the animal followed them, tags dangling from its-

Collar.

"Good. Now, good dogs don't need to be dragged. Heel."

Villain’s hand jolted to their neck, feeling the cold of their mitts directly on their skin.

Their collar was gone.

But the mitts...

“I didn’t know if you wanted those off or not.” Civilian spoke, now that their partner had left. “Do you?”

Their gaze cast downwards. The leather was torn and pockmarked, now, but still holding up. Still restraining...

Villain scanned the room.

In the corner, a wire kennel sat. Larger than their own, with its base laden with blankets and plush toys. In another room, its floor made of tile, a pair of bowls sat. Near the couch, a hair-covered dog bed lay.

There was a dog here, too. But it behaved.

And, for that, it was adored.

A shiver ran through them, once more. But this one did not originate from fear.

They’d run from their owner. Their owner who cared about them!

Oh, god. They’d made a terrible mistake. And, why was their head so foggy?

“No. Um, they can... they can stay on.”

“Okay.” Civilian shrugged. “You sound like crap- no offense. Um, I think I’m gonna go grab some water. You want some water?”

“Please.”

“Alright. Just hold still for me, okay?”

“‘K.”

Yet, despite their promise of remaining in place, they could not manage it-- their bones were made of lead, and their head somehow wrought of something even heavier. Like a stone to a river, they fell back onto the couch, feeling as though they were melting into the plush.

But unconsciousness did not claim them. Not immediately.

Before it did, they heard the words of Civilian, as they moved towards the kitchen:

“Damn, I wish Hero would stop using those gas guns.”

#magicians assistant #hero villain whump #hero whumper #villain whumpee #whump #pet whump #pet whumpee

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makingspiritualityreal · 3 years

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Numerology Life Path 1 - Your Birth Card and its Ruling Planet

Numerology Life Path Numbers and their assigned Tarot Card Meaning Series

This is the first post in my astrology/numerology/tarot series, that only concerns you, if you are a Life Path 1. Posts on consecutive Life Path Numbers will follow. Originally, I wanted to do them all in one post, but my writing turned out to be so long, I decided to split the post and seperate the Life Path Numbers. The introduction part of the post will be the same for all Life Path Numbers, in case you only read a post about your own Life Path Number, and nothing else.

Introduction

The concept of a Birth Card links Tarot and Numerology together, in order to deepen our understanding of a vibration of a Life Path Number we are born with. The Birth Card, or rather Birth Cards, are Major Arcana Tarot Cards with assigned numbers, which correlate with Life Path Numbers. Understanding the meaning of tarot cards, mixed with the knowledge of Numerology Vibrations, helps create a more unique vision of your life experience.

A person with any given Life Path Number, having several Major Arcana energies present in their lives, usually struggles with one of the energies more than the other. As a result, life will probably force them to focus on mastering one of these energies. In general, however, any Life Path describes both your biggest downfall and ultimate triumph - just like with an Astrology Chart, the highlighted numbers/astrology houses point to your biggest strengths and weaknesses. For a better understanding of this concept, visit my article “Natal Chart - A map of your issues?”

Remember, that everyone, besides their Life Path Number and Birth Card also has a unique astrology chart. Thus, for some people embracing the higher expression of their energy is easier, for others it’s harder and it takes more time to master, and some energies become easier to deal with than others. Most human beings are somewhere in between, working on their path and having some achievements while struggling with difficulties at the same time

In the spiritual community, there are differences in opinion on linking Astrological Planets and positions to specific numerology numbers energies. My take is a result of my own personal experience, conversations with other people in my field and research, in order to give you the widest possible spectrum of ideas and increase the understanding of every Life Path Number.

If you are a Master Number 11, 22 or 33, there will be a seperate post on how the Birth Cards apply to you as well.

Even If you have only a basic understanding of Astrology, Tarot or Numerology, this post will still be helpful to you, because it describes the unique vibrational mix that comes from the expression of both these spiritual sciences mixed together. To calculate which Tarot Cards and what Life Path correspond to your birthday, click here.

Life Path 1 - The Wheel of Fortune, the Sun and the Magician

One of the biggest struggles of a Life Path 1 is their need to release control patterns, and instead channel them into direction and embrace their own unique path through allowing themselves to be different and authentic. This requires these people to accept an element of faith in their lives, because as a pioneer, they won’t have any easy, familiar, logical guidelines or role models to follow. They have to learn how to identify, trust and listen to and follow their inner voice. That intuitive voice then leads them to a creative manifestation of their life path, as they become a trendsetter, leader and guide for others. Faith in their case means believing in themselves and their path, even if they can’t see a precise outline, and even if they have noone to validate their vision.

Being born with this life path brings with it issues of the opposite nature to its purpose, before these natives manage to step into their unique creative or leadership position. These people may face rejection, ostracism and lack of acceptance for who they are, they may be rejected for not fitting in, for being “different” and misunderstood, starting with their family circle. This brings out the shadow side of the life path 1, which is practicing control, conformism and people pleasing, while they close off their heart and hide away from following their path. This can happen especially if they carry lingering intense trauma from all the rejection and possible abandonment they faced early on in their lives. Difficult situations can lead a Life Path 1 to adopt a coping strategy - while they people-please on the surface, they maintain tight, even repressive control underneath, which creates internal emotional blockages that result in selfishness, self centeredness, lack of openness and nervous tension.

As much as these behaviors come from a place of suffering, the illusion of people pleasing that an unhappy Life Path 1 can create can have little to do with actual caring for others or forming bonds, since it is performed out of a need for self protection, not out of love. A hurt life Path 1 succumbs to a false belief, that the world is against them, and that everyone only cares for themselves. As a result, their emotional unavailability can create a high level of internalised loneliness due to icing out or hurting those, who actually care for them. Yet, even a suffering version of a Life Path 1, despite their individualistic streak deeply craves people validating their mission in this lifetime. If not worked on, this internal emotional blockage can stop these people from blossoming and stepping into their authentic role.

To look into the ultimate expression that can be performed by a Life Path 1, we look at the assigned Tarot Birth Cards.

The Magician - Being the Number 1 in Tarot, the Magician pertains to this Life Path having an ability to create and manifest their own, individual unique path, without needing to follow others, but rather inspiring others to follow them. The Magician being linked to the ultimate manifestation skill, does so easily because he trusts his gut instinct, and the path simply appears right in front of his eyes due to his own instantaneous, energetic creation. For better or for worse, Life Path 1s have that power, whether they realise it or not. Being such skillful manifestors, they can use it either to build, or to attract and recreate painful events, as long as it’s necessary for them to heal. This points to an essential question every Life Path 1 should ask themselves on the daily - what inside me has created this outcome? Which one of my internal decisions and emotional reactions has resulted in this situation? How did I subconsciously manifest this outcome? Life Path 1s are living proof, of how each and every one of us is an architect of our energetic reality, and how we always have a possibility to manifest a new beginning. A Life Path 1 that embraced this skill is someone, who effortlessly wields their creation power as an art of living.

The Wheel of Fortune - This card points to the necessity for this Life Path to be able to learn how to handle life’s unpredictable situations, and not lose themselves in their false coping control mechanisms as a result of the shock. The Wheel of Fortune is a card of Fate, a card of sudden, unexpected events, that we have no influence over, but also the card of hopeful new beginnings, the understanding, that even the most dire situation can turn around. This card shows us, that the Universe is a balancing force, that works towards harmony by intervening in necessary moments, no matter how unpleasant these changes may seem to us, and that we can’t know, plan or influence everything with our limited perspective. This card is a projection of the internal faith, that a Life Path 1 must preserve in order to continue on their path with limited external support. The Wheel of Fortune shows us, that we need to surrender to the events happening around us, try to understand the meaning behind them, and make the most out of them. This also links to the Magician ability of creating something substantial even in the most difficult circumstances. These are all important lessons for a Life Path 1, that can resist certain events, if it feels they happened outside of their pre-approved plan. However, a matured Life Path 1 views these twists and turns of faith as new opportunities, that allow them to go even further and achieve more in life, because they know sometimes a shake-up is a wake up call.

The Sun - Teaches the Life Path 1 individual, how to embrace the carefree, free-spirited nature of this Tarot Card. This is necessary, in order to be able to breeze through life and not stop in one’s pursuit, even in the face of external disapproval. Number 1 is also ruled by the Sun astrologically, especially the positive, warming, leadership aspect, that makes people feel cared for in its own, unique way. This describes the role, that a Life Path 1 can have in their community, when they communicate with it from an authentic, open heart space. The key here is honesty with oneself and uninhibited self expression.

Being such an individualistic life path, in Number 1 there is a level of solitary, internal work that always needs to be done, even if it’s performed in response to someone else’s advice or support. The struggle here is mostly internal, as it is a constant battle of being able to have clarity of vision, a fight for how things “should be” and a challenge of embracing how things actually are. As they grow older, Life Path 1s gain understanding, that most of the guidelines they lived by are false mechanisms, adopted from an early environment that was constantly trying to constrict their internal growth. When they mature, they let these restrictions go, and unapologetically follow the calling of their soul.

The path of being a pioneer is an uncharted territory, a battle through obstacles, that does however bring an ultimate victory, if one embraces the challenges and powers through them. All pioneers are call madmen, before they are called geniuses.

#astrology #numerology #tarot #making spirituality real #the sun #the magician #tarot cards #tarot deck #tarotonline #the wheel of fortune #sun #natal chart #astrology chart #zodiac signs #zodiac #astrology signs #life path #life path 1 #astrological houses

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superworldunkown · 3 years

Text

“Daddy, did you die?”

AN: While I wait patiently for all of the ‘Bakugou wakes up from a hospital bed and rushes to Deku’s side’ fanfics to be populated and/or reposed from when we all thought this was a headcanon, plz enjoy my Domestic Daddy Bakugou x Daughter Kiara spin on the matter.

Summary: Being a hero is hard. Being a hero and a dad...why wasn’t this taught at U.A? Bakugou x Kiara

(Lol sometimes I pretend he waking up in the below image and the first thing he see is me and I’m like “Shush BB, your melanin queen is here.”)

Ouch.

Bakugou had awoken in hospitals with no recollection of how he got there before, but this one carried an extra special ouch with it. Villains were getting stronger and stronger it seemed, and now with the widespread availability of quirk enhancing and suppressing drugs on the market, it made the old ‘Win To Save, Save to Win’ mantra quite the challenge. Also, anything with Deku made things 100 times more complicated.

It was supposed to be a simple rescue mission - they all seem to start out that way, but as always, something catastrophic had to happen and Deku just HAD to jump in and put his life on the line for everyone. And, of course, as his partner, Bakugou just HAD to blast on in after him. Who else was going to keep the damn nerd with the most incredibly powerful and incredibly secret quirk alive?

Speaking of, where was that damn nerd anyways?

Taking a rather large breath, Bakugou pulled the oxygen mask away from his mouth and pushed his sore body into a resting position. The machines he was connected to hummed in their disapproval, rattling his already irritated brain. But it was no matter to Bakugou, he had things to do, and no machine designated to keep him alive as going to stop him, damnit.

He could see beneath his hospital gown his torso and chest covered in white medical tape - that’s right! The hit to the shoulder he took in battle. Great, another scar to add to his growing collection. His mind was already thinking of how he was going to explain this scar to you when you explicitly expressed that he didn’t come home with another one. You too knew that missions with Deku always tended to go heroic vs under the radar.

As Bakguou began to move his legs towards the side of the bed his eyes caught a white piece of paper that was folded at the end of the bed slip to his side. The words ‘Read Me Kacchan’ written in an oh so familiar handwriting.

‘Hey Kacchan,

As you requested, as of 7:37am this morning, I am alive and checking in on the rest of the rescue team. Incase you are curious, I have all my vitals on the back of this paper. Please stay in bed and rest. - Deku’

Bakugou let out a huff while he refolded the note and stuck it in his pant pocket. Since his graduation from U.A he had gained rather irritating nicknames among his former classmates turned hero partners.

“Damn, working with Bakugou can be such a pain sometimes. Sheesh, you can’t even get a papercut under his watch.” Sero would groan.

“Hey, he’s just being a manly captain that’s all.” Kirishima would chime in, “Always looking out for us! And besides, he was a lot worse at U.A.”

“Yeah,” Mina rolled her eyes, “From Lone Wolf to Mother Hen, quite the upgrade.”

Bastards. All of them.

After a rather nasty battle Bakguou would be the first to roam around the hospital, busting doors down to check in on the status of the team, only to rip them a new one for being reckless and careless. There was an unspoken rule on when teaming up with this hero, don’t even think about dying on his watch. If you do, he’ll murder you. And it goes without saying that no one has broken that rule in his 5 years of professional hero work. Excuse him for keeping everyone fucking safe!

Pushing the rather annoying memories into the back of his brain, he toyed with the idea of getting up for his usual rounds of ‘Who the hell got hurt?!’ duty. However, the moment he let out a slight exhale of relief his ears were filled with a rather disturbing sound. It was faint, perhaps a few rooms down and barely auditable, but there was no way he could not hear it.

Why was there a child crying? And why did it sound like Kiara?

Instantly, his body jerked into action. Was she hurt? Why was she here? Where were you? Don’t tell him that you were in that mess from earlier with the villains. Even worse, did you go into labor already and he wasn’t there?!

Damnit.

Damnit!

The machines let out a dangerous whine as Bakugou began to pull everything off of him to get to the door. His legs gave out the moment he took two steps. Why the hell was he so weak?! Crawling wasn’t beneath him, if it got him closer to his daughter, so be it. Sweat began to form at the tip of his brow, running down his neck and soaking through is bandages.

“No it’s okay i’ll go check on-Kacchan?!” Deku paused as he opened the door to Bakugou’s hospital room, only to rush to his side, “Didn’t you get my note?!”

Bakugou was shaking at this point, grabbing at Deku’s shoulder only to use him as a weight to further push himself closer to the door. He could still hear his daughters cries, “Shut up...you damn nerd. If you’re not going to help-”

Deku tried his best to reason with him, “You need to stop moving, you were hit with some kind of quirk suppression drug, its like poison and you’re only agitating it.”

“Where is she?” Bakugou managed to get out before his head collapsed on to the cool tile of the hospital floor, “Where’s my kid?”

He could still hear the mixture of his daughters cries and Deku’s anguish as his vision went completely dark.

***

Ouch. Double Fucking Ouch.

Waking up for a second time in the hospital hurts even worse than the first. Bakugou found himself back in his bed, reconnected to the machines, twice as sore and twice as pissed off. Forget the rules, when he sees Deku again he’s going to -

“Daddy?”

Bakugou jerked his head to the side to meet a pair of tiny, puffy red eyes. Kiara sat on her mother’s lap, her lip quivering and arms shaking.

Luckily for Bakugou his hospital bed was reclined slightly upright, giving him the perfect positioning to catch his daughter as she leaped into his arms.

“Kiara be careful baby!” You called.

Kiara ignored your chastising and buried herself into her father’s chest, tears flowing freely. Bakugou ignored the pain, wrapping his arms around her to pull her even closer. The relief of her safety was worth all the pain. His arms gripped around her a bit tighter as if Kiara would slip away from him again. Kiara never cried like this before, even during her worst temper tantrums (which she 100% inherited from Bakugou’s side of the family), she never acted like this.

Bakugou turned his head towards you, his cheek brushing against the top of Kiara’s head as he looked for some clarification to Kiara’s behavior.

“She’s scared Katsuki.” You answered simply. Seeing your husband’s confusion you elaborated further, “You were unconscious for a whole day before you woke up the first time. We tried visiting you but when she saw you lying there she started crying, and really hasn’t stopped since.”

“But I’m fine.”

“I know that.” You reassured him, “But, this is the first time she’s seeing you get a little beat up and that’s scary. She’s not a baby anymore Katsuki, she’s understanding how dangerous hero work can be.”

It dawned on him; the same, gut twisted feeling that brewed in his stomach anytime Deku or a member of his team got hurt was now being manifested in his 3 year old daughter. His eyes moved down to his daughters head, watching her continue to cry into his chest. Damn, he was hopping she inherited his quirk and not his dangerously high levels of panic and anxiety. He then moved his gaze over the the bump in your stomach. Was this going to happen to them too? What the hell should he do!

He felt the gentle nudge on his bruised shoulder, you mouth silently forming the command to say something to soothe small girl crying in his arms.

“Oi,” he tried to make his usually ear piercing, gravely voice as smooth as possible.

Kiara poked her head up, her ruby eyes staring deeply into her fathers, “Daddy, did you die?”

“Huh? Hell no. You think some lame ass villain can kill me?! You think I’m weak?”

You ran your hand across your already tired face, you wouldn’t expect a Bakugou style father/daughter talk to go any different, but seriously?

Kiara shook her head violently, small tears flying from her eyelashes. Katsuki was beaming, despite the pain, “That’s right kid. Being a hero means we have to do scary things sometimes. I know today was scary but I never lose, got that? I’m a Bakugou, and so are you. We always win and we always kick ass.” His large callous hands drew to his daughters face, wiping away any remaining tears.

“And it’s okay to be scared sweetie.” You chimed in while leaning closer to your daughter, “But Daddy and everyone we love is okay today. And we can be happy about that, right?”

Kiara nodded, sniffling “Mr. Deku is okay too?”

“Pfft,” Katsuki huffed while shifting Kiara off his lap to lay by his side, “The damn nerd is just peachy.”

“Daddy, why do...why do you call Mr. Deku a, a damn-?”

“That’s a fun name Daddy calls Mr. Deku that only Daddy can say and that’s all you need to know about that.” You chimed in quickly, careful not to let Bakguou destroy your precious daughters mind any further. Kiara shrugged her shoulders and curled at her fathers side; the three of them a happy, but rather dysfunctional family.

#bakugou katsuki #domestic bakugou #bakugou x Kiara #bnha #mha #my hero academia #bakugou x black reader #bakugou #bakugo

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chockfullofsecrets · 3 years

Text

Star Wars: Gentler, Harder

(Read on AO3)

Rating: Gen

Summary: He waits for Poe to twist around before continuing. “You were kind of being one, weren’t you? Teasing Rey like that.”

Finn’s got a mischievous look on his face, one Poe hasn’t seen on him before, and for all that Poe knows he’s not supposed to be moving he feels his stomach flip like he’s just entered a spiral dive.

Rey’s voice is far too close on his other side, sounding livelier than she has since he’s met her. “Does that mean we have to tickle him now?”

Wordcount: 2.6k

A/N: @ticklesofcolor event fill for @ticklishnonsense! Prompts were a combination of “Poe really loves getting tickled and has to ask for it” and “Finn gets taught how to tickle someone” - I am looking at those CR prompts, believe me, but I thought it would be fun to try something new too :)

---

“Well, aren’t you two a sight for sore eyes!”

Poe’s still not over the way Finn beams every time he sees him - he startles a little, probably on just enough symoxin to dull the rest of his senses along with the nerves, and breaks into a smile so brilliant against his dark skin that it’s hard not to squint. “Poe!”

He sounds like he’s still excited about having actual names to call. Poe tries not to think about it too hard.

Rey, curled up on the other side of the medical bed in, does her best impression of not looking expectantly at him. Poe grins and holds out a nutrition bar that she snatches and squirrels away somewhere in her dangling wraps faster than he can follow. “Good day?”

“Yes,” she says, perfunctorily making room for him to sit. She and Finn are close, he knows, and they’re never far from one another if they can help it - they do have enough spare beds that their two newest recruits shouldn’t be sharing one, he’s checked - but she’s not much for cuddling, and over the past few days they’ve worked out an unspoken agreement that Poe gets to crawl in between the two of them whenever he comes by. “Finn’s doctor says he’s almost ready for the next round of surgery, but he still shouldn’t be moving around.”

Poe squirms into a sitting position against the uncomfortable starchiness of the singular medbay pillow and looks Finn over as the two of them attempt to quote jargon about vertebrae and internal splints at him. He does look well, bandages aside, but it looks like clapping his shoulder still isn’t a good idea- instead, he settles for smacking a kiss against the coarse corkscrew curls that are just starting to grow out of Finn’s military cut. It’s a good look on him.

Finn interrupts himself to laugh and punch Poe gently in the shoulder with his good arm. “What about you, pilot? Do anything crazy today?”

A metric ton of paperwork, mostly. “Wait, wait - Rey, what about you?”

She frowns at him, same as every time he’s asked. “I still don’t think there’s anything wrong with me that would keep me from doing mechanic work-”

Finn shifts behind him. Poe twists back to him and catches his wince just as he gets close enough to whisper loudly, “She’s only had two headaches, I’ve been watching her all day.”

“Finn! I’ve been watching you,” Rey insists, wide-eyed. “If they let me out, I can start getting supplies for us, and - Poe Dameron, stop looking at me like that-”

“Like what?” he asks, trying and failing to stifle a laugh.

“The-” She gestures tightly in the general direction of his face, which only makes him laugh harder.

“Okay, okay, I just-” He fishes another nutrition bar out of his jacket and breaks it into three, holding out a portion to either side. “We have enough supplies for you and Finn, Rey. It took me four days to recover from whatever Kylo Ren did to my head - not saying you can’t do it in less, but I know how it felt and you need rest. The General herself said so, and she knows more about the Force than anyone here.”

Rey stuffs the food into her cheek and sinks back into herself, rubbing a little self-consciously at the dark circles under her eyes, and it’s hard to stop himself from reaching out to her, unwelcome as it might be given that they’ve just met and he’s technically the reason she’s not waist-deep in machinery right now. He’d tell her about the little manifest of speeder parts and a run-down X-wing he’s been saving for her to look at when she’s well, but he’s a little afraid that it’ll make her even more restless. “I nearly escaped an enemy base by myself and no one will even let me check the hyperdrive strain on the Falcon, but people keep coming in here and asking Finn for - for intel, whatever that means.”

“First Order secrets,” Finn intones, and lets out a semi-hysterical laugh. Poe’s heart lurches. He’d do anything to keep these two protected, safe, but for the cause-

He can do his best to cheer them up, at least, even if he’s feeling a little wiped himself. “Well,” he says, flicking Rey’s knee playfully, “we all know which one of you went around calling himself a ‘big deal’ in the Resistance, so-”

“Poe Dameron,” Rey hisses, rocking forward and launching a flurry of insistent pokes at his belly, “I’ll - I’ll take the Force and - Poe?”

Poe is - he’s not that ticklish, or at least that’s what he tells himself, but prodding at his soft spots is mean and he’s already half-sunk in laughter as he instinctively scrambles away from her.

Finn makes a startled sound just to his right, and he realizes abruptly that someone’s going to get hurt if he doesn’t stop flailing around. “Rey - Rey, wahahait-”

She pulls her hand back, brow furrowed. “What was that?”

“Wait, are you ticklish?” Finn asks.

Every nerve in Poe’s body sings at actually hearing the word. Clearly, it’s been a while.

Rey looks even more confused. “Ticklish?”

“The laughing,” Finn clarifies. “It usually happens when you poke someone in a ticklish spot.”

“Oh.” Rey looks adorably contrite. “Sorry, Poe, I didn’t know you were - ticklish? There?”

Goosebumps prickle at the back of his neck - they just keep saying it - but there’s a sudden, disappointing clarity at the realization that they’re not actually going to keep tickling him if he doesn’t say anything. “Oh, uh, I don’t mind, really I-”

I like it, he finishes in his head, but the words catch, warm and embarrassed, in the back of his throat and he just coughs instead. He scoots gingerly back towards Rey and tries again. “Um. I’m used to it, it’s not like Jess hasn’t used it against me when she thinks I’m being a brat.”

“Well,” Finn says, and that’s not a tone Poe’s ever heard from him before.

He waits for Poe to twist around before continuing. “You were kind of being one, weren’t you? Teasing Rey like that.”

Rey’s voice is far too close on his other side, sounding livelier than she has since he’s met her. “Does that mean we have to tickle him now?”

He whips his head around just in time to see Rey pounce on him. She pins his legs neatly with hers, one wiry forearm bracing across his chest and the other pressed lightly over his mouth, and Poe abruptly feels trapped.

He should probably be more worried about that.

“You’re loud,” she tells him matter-of-factly, her sharp chin inches from his ear, “and if you don’t stay in once place you’re going to hurt Finn. Tap out if you want me to let you up.”

His fingers are twitching. He flattens them against the mattress.

She makes a satisfied sound and turns - he can’t see Finn past her, but it’s unlikely that he’s gone anywhere in the last thirty seconds, at least. “So now we just - poke him?”

“Kind of,” Finn says. “But Rey, you’ve gotta have a hand free-”

Rey’s hand flexes briefly over his mouth. “You do it, then.”

Finn sounds uncertain. “I can barely see his face from over here; it’ll be hard to tell if I’m doing it right.”

Brown eyes abruptly fill his field of vision as Rey looks back at him. Poe holds his breath, anticipating, as she presses her thumb to the corner of the silly, helpless smile working its way over his face and grins - a brief, childish thing he’s only seen her wear in the hangars.

“I’ll tell you, then.”

Poe squeaks.

Suddenly there are five little points of warmth on his right side, tickling mercilessly over the tender line just under his ribcage. The zinging sensation shoots over his chest, up under his collarbones, and-

He dissolves into gasping laughter, arching up into Rey’s arm before he can even think about laying still. “Oh,” he gets out, “oho - ohnohoho-”

Part of him expected that Finn wouldn’t really know how tickling worked, being in the First Order and all. That part of him is currently experiencing instant, severe regret as clever fingers work their way into the grooves between his lower ribs, forming into pincers and kneading just firmly enough to make him twist and squeal. “Ahaha - aaa! - no - eheeeh-”

He kicks free, for a moment, heels dragging frantically against the bed. Rey makes a frustrated noise and kicks back. “Finn, gentle,” she orders, “it’s too much for him.”

Poe’s somewhat offended by this unflattering evaluation of his abilities - at least, until Finn makes an affirming noise and the kneading lightens to a soft, barely-there fluttering of nails against his skin.

Then, he’s just desperate.

It’s. It’s not even enough to make him laugh, is the thing - he’s just wheezing out breathless, hiccupy giggles into Rey’s palm as Finn wanders his way up his ribcage, pausing occasionally to rub gentle circles when he stumbles across somewhere especially sensitive. It’s hell.

“Rey,” he tries, muffled, making the herculean attempt to unfist his hands and nudge her in the shoulder. “Rey.”

She looks down at him, questioning, and he gives her his most pleading look. He knows she can read his desperation clear as day, he knows-

She blinks. “Keep going,” she tells Finn, “I don’t think he’s sorry yet.”

Finn, bless his non-evil heart and inability to hear Poe whine in fruitless protest, laughs and pets the soft, trembling skin under Poe’s arm with one careful fingertip. “Really? C’mon, Poe, what’s it gonna take?”

This, apparently, because Poe is ready to say anything in the entire karking galaxy to get them to actually tickle him - the only thing worse, he thinks, would be if they stopped.

He whines again and squeezes his arms against his sides as tightly as he can, hoping beyond hope that it’ll make Finn take retaliatory measures. Rey just tsks and moves her hand away from his mouth, and he sighs in relief in the brief, blessed instant before she clamps down on his forearm and pulls his arm up.

Solves the audibility problem, at least. “Finn,” he pleads, wheezing between the snickers being forced out of shivering lungs, and wow, that’s not how his voice usually sounds. “Fihihihiiiiinn - Finn! Dohon’t - just - please, I can’t-”

Finn sounds amused. “Rey, you think he wants us to stop? Sounds pretty sorry to me.”

“No,” Poe says hastily, and promptly shuts his eyes before he can see their reaction to that. “Just - do it right, come on-”

There’s sudden, piercing doubt in Rey’s voice as she loosens her grip on him. “What do you mean - Finn, are we doing it wrong?”

He has to say something, but what-

And then.

He can’t see them, but - but he can feel, just for a moment-

The thing brushing up against the edges of his mind is instantly, quintessentially Rey - grit and stubbornness and a rusty, childish mischievousness all swirling, with the bitter concern of being wrong briefly at the forefront - it skims over his thoughts like sand over desert dunes, not graceful but gentle, nothing like Kylo Ren’s digging and bruising intrusion -

It. It kind of tickles.

He laughs, sudden and startled, and with Rey braced over him it’s impossible not to hear the pleased sound she makes in response. “Oh, I see.”

The Force, Poe realizes, is a kriffing snitch.

He cracks an eye open and fails entirely not to blush at the way Rey’s beaming triumphantly down at him. “Poe,” she commands. “Tell Finn what you want him to do.”

He sputters. “What? I thought that was your job. And you can’t use the Force, that’s not fair-”

She beams even wider. “There’s more than one way to make you sorry, Poe - come on, tell Finn which one you like better, tell him!”

“Wait, you used the Force?” Finn’s confusion only makes him blush harder. “Poe? You can tell us if you want us to stop, you know-”

“I don’t,” he blurts out, and immediately has to close his eyes again as every ounce of blood in his body rushes to his face. “I - I want - Rey, I can’t-”

“Say it,” she orders, and he wonders if that’s the Force echoing in his ears.

Well, if he’s going to be pressured into saying it, might as well be by the galaxy’s newest Jedi. “Can - can you t-tick-” Come on, Dameron, lo que no me mata- “-oh, kriff it, just tickle me harder, please, I can’t take it-”

He trails off, breathing hard, and Rey pats him twice on the cheek like a proud tía before slapping her hand back over his mouth. “I think he’s going to be a lot louder now. Finn?”

Ten fingers wriggle their way into his right armpit, and Poe yelps.

It’s not any more bearable than the fluttering and tracing, except that it is, and Poe can’t help but relax into the helpless laughter as Finn prods and pinches his way all the way down to his hip before working his way back up under his arm. He lingers at Poe’s ribs, kneading between two particular sensitive ribs and giggling as Poe tries to shove his mean, mean hands away with arms that have all the strength of a used bacta patch. “Eheheeeeh - ha, aaaaa - hahaha, nononoplease-”

“He says no,” Rey conveys over his head.

“No?” Finn says, teasing. He lightens his touch just enough to make Poe shriek in panicked frustration before going right back to kneading. “Aw, Poe, I thought you said this is what you wanted!”

Poe’s pretty sure there’s a solid four inches between the bed and his spine, with how desperately he’s arching his back and wriggling to escape the awful teasing, and as Rey wrestles him back down Finn’s fingers slip onto his belly.

He screams.

There’s a moment of complete, terrible stillness as Rey looks down at him with utter delight. “Finn!” she chirps. “Do that again!”

“Hm? Right here?”

Poe feels something warm and wriggly slide between him and Rey, up under his shirt where it’s come untucked with all the struggling, and promptly makes the executive decision to tap out before he ends up earning himself a ticket to the medbay with more psychic damage.

“Wait, he’s-”

“Rey, he wants-”

Finn and Rey both pause, Finn’s hand unmoving on his belly. Rey inches her hand off his mouth. “Poe?”

“Tapping out,” he wheezes. Rey gets halfway off him before jerking back to lean on his shoulders, fixing him with a mock-stern look that nearly has him breaking down into nervous giggles all over again. “I will get to fly the Falcon again, right?”

Poe tips his head back onto the bed, gulping down air. “I get the feeling I couldn’t stop you even if I wanted to, but yes. General’s even got it listed under your name in the manifest, now.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh. I - I have a ship?”

“You’ve got a ship,” he confirms, and loses his breath all over again as she darts in for a fierce, joyful hug. It takes a bit of doing, but he manages to shove his way to enough of a sitting position to lean the both of them up against Finn, wrapping their arms together in a joyful tangle.

It feels right - like fighters flying in formation, like the spiraling balance of the Force the few times he’s been witness to it.

His cheeks are red and sore from laughter, but he can’t help smiling.

#ticklesofcolor2021 #tickling #star wars #jedistormpilot #poe dameron #sw finn #sw rey #chocfic #mmm that new fandom smell and the dreaded fear of mischaracterization let's do this

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custardcrazy · 3 years

Text

Newt Scamander x Reader: I’ll Be Seeing You (Part 1)

A/N: i’ve been working on this lol and writing for newt makes me stupidly happy.. lol

anyhow, here’s part 1 of this new series about our favorite magizoologist !!

warnings: angst (next part will have fluff dw), parents fighting, bullying, a tad bit of abuse from the father. do not read this if any of that stuff triggers you.

part 2

------

Poppy

Since you were a child, you had possessed the ability to connect with plants on a near-spiritual level- and to heal them, as well. Even for a kid born into a magical family (you were a pureblood), this was unusual.

It was an ability that was pretty much laughed at by anyone you told.

"That's ridiculous! Stop lying!" said some. "That'll be useless in combat," sneered others.

Your mother was very kind, but could do little to nothing to stop people from ridiculing the "plant-talking freak". All she really did was provide you with temporary comfort and a sense of safety from the outside world that was less than welcoming. Your father, close-minded as he was, didn't directly yell at you, but you could tell from his expressions that he was disappointed.

When you were younger, you were very lonely. It was really stupid how people would distance themselves from you, thinking that they'd catch a disease or something if they got too close. And all of this manifested itself into you being maybe a bit too friendly for some people.. because all you wanted was a real friend.

One warm summer day when you were about seven, you were playing in the local park. Your mother was sitting on a bench nearby, reading a book. Your father was busy at work, as usual.

With a small sigh, you had gotten up from the patch of flowers you were in, and walked over to an area of trees to look around.

Whenever there was natural life around you, you had discovered that it was present as a dull hum in your mind and ears. At first it had been annoying, but by now you had grown used to the feeling. Welcomed it, even.

As you peeked around a tall oak, you caught a glimpse of an unfamiliar kid squatted over the ground. They seemed to be poking at some pink, mushroom-like things.

You drew a bit closer, trying to get a better look at them.

But as you took a step forward, you stepped on a stick, and it broke in half, causing the kid to jump and nearly fall over backwards.

He (now you were sure it was a he) looked at you, with widened eyes. He looked absolutely petrified!

"Oh- I'm so sorry for scaring you!" you said quickly, holding up your hands.

"I-I-it's fine," the boy stuttered, turning around to face the mushroom things again with a slightly flushed face.

You tilted your head to the side slightly. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yes-" he answered, looking extremely reluctant to continue the conversation. But being the young child you were, you didn't recognize that at all.

"I'm glad that somebody else my age is in the park!" you interrupted, a smile beginning to form on your face. "What's your name?"

"Er.. Newton.. but y-you can call me Newt, I guess." Newt gave a short sideways glance to you as you crouched down next to him.

"Oh, that's a nice name! I'm (Y/N)!" You stuck out a hand for him to shake.

He merely looked at your hand, then returned his attention back to the pink fungi things.

"I don't.. do.. handshakes."

You shrugged, pulling back your hand. "Alright then."

Pausing, you focused your attention hard on the pink things, wishing to communicate with them. But, strangely enough, you didn't sense anything from them- so even though they did look like plants, they weren't, you concluded.

"What are those mushrooms called? They're not plants, are they?" you said, now curious to what these beings were.

Newt looked a mix of surprised and impressed, turning his gaze fully at you. "H-how.. ho-how did you know that? It's nearly im-impossible to tell between-"

With a slight hesitation, you just grinned. "I know a few things about plants, I suppose."

Over the next year or so, you grew closer to your new friend bit by bit. You learned that he was interested in magical creatures. That he was studying the mushroom things- Horklumps, he said they were called- to learn how they worked. Apparently he had some back in his home!

School did start up again eventually, but that didn't stop you from visiting the park nearly every day, looking forward to the afternoons spent with him playing around in the woods. Newt had become the closest and best friend that you'd ever had.

You still weren't sure if he'd react kindly if you told him about your freakish powers, though.. and you didn't want to lose him.

One evening, when you were flipping through one of your favorite books, you heard yelling from downstairs.

Sneaking over to the stairs, you peeked into the living room, where your mother and father were having a heated argument. They hadn't been getting along well as of late, with your dad growing more and more irritated at work and coming home in a terrible mood all the time, having shouting matches with your increasingly quiet mum over trivial things. (He did most of the shouting.)

...But it wasn't like they got along very well in the first place, anyway.

"WELL I DON'T CARE! JUST CLEAN THE DAMN PLATES BY THE TIME THAT IT'S TIME FOR SUPPER!" roared your father, red-faced in his anger.

Your mother looked like she was on the verge of tears. "Please, just be patient! It'll only take a minute-"

"A minute!? Woman, GET ON WITH IT!"

She shushed him. "Please, think of our child, you'll frighten-"

"Our child? I never asked for that plant-whispering freak!"

Tears began to blur your vision.

But just before you ran upstairs, you saw your mom suddenly clench her first, hissing words at your father that you couldn't hear before pulling out her wand.

Not wanting to watch any longer, you hurried upstairs, running into your room and slamming the door behind you.

Turns out your parents split up shortly after that.

The feeling was numbing, really. You didn't feel sad. You didn't feel angry. You didn't feel happy, either.

And when you learned that you were going to move to America to live with your mother's sister, you just slowly nodded and packed up your things.

The day before your departure from your home, you visited the park for possibly the last time. The last time you'd see your dearest and only friend.

You found Newt easily, and he gave you a crooked grin. "Hello."

"..Hey," you said, looking and sounding as hollow as you felt.

He instantly looked concerned. "I-is anything the matter, (Y/N)?"

"No- well, yes." Sniffling, you nodded. "I'm.. I'm moving. I'm moving, Newt."

"Wait- moving to wh-where?" Standing up from the ground, Newt walked a bit closer.

"To.. to.."

You felt tears threatening to spill over your cheeks, and couldn't find the correct words to tell him that this was maybe the last time you'd see each other.

"(Y/N), please, ju-just tell me. I-I'm- we're friends, right? You can trust me-"

"LOOK, I'm moving to America- and I'm pretty sure I'm not coming back!"

If this was a normal situation, you would've laughed at the expression of pure shock on Newt's face.

But this time, you just wanted to cry and cry and cry.

"Th-this.. th-this isn't a joke, r-right..?" His pitiful expression showed that he was wishing for this to not be true. That it was just a nightmare. And partly, it was a nightmare.

"I-it.. it.. it really.. isn't." You sniffled again, trying and failing to wipe away your tears. "I.. I do-don't want to leave, but t-there's really no other choice..,"

"So.. I'll never see you.. again..?"

You could tell that he was struggling not to cry. You could see the glimmering in his eyes.

With a sob, you flung yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him and holding him tight.

He froze momentarily, but slowly hugged you back, tears slipping down his face.

"(Y/N)!"

You heard your mother's call in the distance, pulling back from Newt.

"(Y/N), we need to get going!"

"Look, I- I'll miss you," you said hurriedly, letting go of him and turning away. "Goodbye."

Suddenly, a gentle hand grasped your wrist.

You looked back, and found something being pressed into your hand. Quickly bringing it up to look at it, you found a smile making its way into your expression.

It was a bit rough, but nonetheless charming. A little copper moon charm threaded onto a rope bracelet that was a bit big for your wrist.

"..T-thank you," you said.

"(Y/N), this is the last time I'm going to yell!"

Newt smiled back at you. "Be careful. I'll miss you too."

And you turned around for the last time, running off and not looking back.

#newt scamander #fantastic beasts #fantastic beasts and where to find them #x reader #newt scamander x y/n #newt scamander x you #newt scamander x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #angst #there will be a part two

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kookiepredictions · 3 years

Text

Jungkook Energy Reading

Jungkook is at a major crossroad of his life. Here, he has a choice to make between 2 roads that will potentially lead him to 2 completely different lives. The choices are to either stay the course that he has been following until now, or to level up to a new, challenging but highly rewarding stage. This is a very fun and interesting topic to discuss so I will take my time with this.

To give you a context, Jungkook is a very highly intuitive person since, like, forever. Ever wondered why (or how) out of... (was it 7?)... so many company offers he chose to be with a small company for a reason that might seem like a whim? Ever wondered why his social media posts gain so much traction? Why he trends so often? If you’ve felt like Jungkook is one of those people who just “gets it” that’s because of his natural intuitive abilities. At the cost of being hated on, I’ll say this: he’s not the best singer in the world. Yet, he makes magic with his voice every time. He is an average dancer. Yet, he commands the stage and holds attention like nobody’s business. That’s because Jungkook has always worked with energy without knowing that he did. That’s why a lot of his achievements seem almost effortless. Yes, he works really hard for everything, but so do a lot of other people. Jungkook has this innate quality of (almost) always making the right choices, being at the right place at the right time that, combined with his ability to work hard, creates these massive outcomes. He’s a super powerful clairsentient and although I’m not sure if he consciously he uses his gifts, subconsciously it has often rewarded him, and so far he hasn’t had to really think about it too much, because it’s a naturally-occurring habit for him. But now he has reached a threshold where he has to contemplate things. Needless to say, it’s outside his comfort zone and is making him VERY stressed. He’s at a juncture where he feels this strong pull towards a direction but is afraid to go there because it’s out of his comfort zone and as is the case with that, he is plagued with doubts, confusion, opposing logics, etc— all of which is keeping him stuck and stagnant like a deer caught in headlights.

What is the problem with staying in his comfort zone, you might ask, I mean it has worked for him so far. Generally speaking, there’s no problem. There is never a problem in this world nor is there any good or bad. It all depends on how we see things. That’s why one person’s curse turns out to be another’s blessing, and one’s trash another’s treasure. The problem here is that, Jungkook has done the unthinkable— he has started to have dreams and desires (lol sorry not sorry I like to be dramatic). For a while (maybe a year or so?) Jungkook has been in this place (mentally and emotionally) where he has been rethinking and reinventing his goals, plans etc for his future. He has lived quite a while with a certain idea of how his life is going to go and worked with that vision. But it was getting tiring and draining in a way he didn’t quite understand why, followed by something impactful that happened in his life— has made him question everything. He has been proverbially studying himself in the mirror and rediscovering his true self. This is literally changing everything about his life. His wants are changing, the things that make him happy (or sad) are changing, and he has been think A LOT about how he wants his life to look like from here on. He’s trying to manifest a life that he thinks will not just give him the usual, practical material comforts of life, but also make him happy and fulfilled from a soul-deep space. And as is the case with manifestations, the first thing you gotta do is make sure your mindset is aligned with what you’re desiring. This is where Jungkook is at right now. He knows what he wants, he is willing to put in the work that it takes, and has also been making plans and taking action... but wait a second. Just when he thought that it is time for him to reap the rewards of his actions, things seem to be going south for him. He is facing problems and obstacles in nearly all areas of his life, and this has him utterly confused because he thinks he has done everything right and yet, why is he not seeing results materialize yet? He’s growing tired of this journey and it’s even more confusing because on the one hand, he still feels like he has hope and that there’s a high possibility that things will go his way, yet on the other hand, what IS happening in reality is quite the opposite. He feels like he’s being pulled in 2 opposite directions and both have equally strong reasons to go towards. This is what is known as “the crossroads”.

The reason he is not seeing results is like I said, manifestations are ALL about the mindset. Point blank period. If you hold a pendulum suspending by the string, and just THINK about moving it without moving your hand at all, it starts moving. This is how pendulum readings work. This is a small yet telling exercise to show how our mindset literally controls all our actions. So without the right mindset, actions mean nothing because those actions are coming from a mindset that is not aligned with what you want to manifest. This is what is happening with Jungkook. He is making his plans and taking action, like he has been trying to have a healthy routine, eat clean, exercise, practice his skills, etc but he is doing all of this from an outdated mindset. It’s like building a house of cards over a slanted surface. No matter how carefully you stack the cards, they come crashing down because the foundation is not right. His plans are great, his efforts are sincere, but are based on a very limited mindset. He thinks, well I’ll do this and this and then I’ll do that and that and then... but something goes wrong, some plans backfire, some work related problems come up, financial setbacks happen, and he is back to square one again. Then he feels unmotivated and goes into depressive episodes and eventually picks himself up and tries again but the whole thing happens again. He is now tired and feels he has no fights left and also feels it’s all useless because the Universe seems to be working against him. But that’s not the case. The Universe is simply telling him that no matter how hard he tries (because that’s kinda Jungkook’s mindset right now: if it didn’t work, try harder and harder next time), nothing will come to fruition if the mindset at the base of it all changes. And the same cycle will continue.

This crossroad is an opportunity for him to level up, not at the action point, but at the mindset point. He has to switch from the “work hard, struggle, chase” mindset to the “attract effortlessly” mindset. Now, this is not something new for Jungkook. Like I said, he is a natural intuitive and has actually attracted most of the things in his life quite effortlessly if you consider the fact that he has achieved more at 23 than most people have in their entire lives. The “struggle” is showing up because it is a crossroad. So no matter how competent, accomplished, or karmically good or bad you consider yourself to be, everyone struggles at some point or the other, when it is time to level up. I mentioned earlier that he is a Clairsentient and his comfort zone is to live his life according to his feelings without giving much thought to them and for a very long time, it’s worked out just fine. But now it is time for him to step into the role of a Claircognizant and to give a voice to his feelings. The Universe has been pushing this role at him for a while now, which has manifested in his life into a lot of overthinking, which is the shadow side of claircognizance. It entails a very active mind so at the beginning stages of honing this skill, you tend to struggle with overthinking and your mind sort of being all over the place. Think of your mind as an out-of-control river which floods everything around, but when you train your mind, and make it follow a course, it becomes life-saving. Because in the raw form, any spiritual gift comes with a lot of sharp ends, Jungkook is resisting this gift. He is stressed from all the overthinking and feels lost and out of control. So he tends to go back to his comfort zone and work from his old mindset and keeps facing obstacles. Now you might think, wow, being a Clairsentient is no joke either, so why bother about being a Claircognizant? Like leave the boy alone jeez. But like I always say, the Universe gives us all free will. There is no forcing him. He has made this choice when he started asking for this new, improved, happier life. This is something he is trying to manifest and to do that, he needs to have the right resources. At this point in his life, even being a Clairsentient (which is still awesome) is a limiting existence for him. Jungkook is an old soul. It might be interesting for you to know that he is the oldest soul in all of BTS and he is an older soul than his parents and brother as well! However, his old soul combined with a young mind and the fact that he is the youngest person in both his family and his BTS family, wreaks havoc within him. He often finds himself in situations where he feels deeply and profoundly but cannot express the depth of his feelings externally. This manifests as a throat chakra blockage even though he has a very strong and developed throat chakra (the reason why he is so expressive when he sings and is very facially expressive when dancing and just generally very expressive when he creates social media content from a fun, good mood space). Like I said, it’s a limit. So far it wasn’t as necessary to address this. But as he ages and his life progresses, he misses this skill set. He thinks it’s about his vocabulary, but it really is just about putting a voice to his inner feelings. He could feel it strongly inside when something is right or wrong, but he can rarely tell you why. He’s a good judge but he’s a terrible lawyer lol. And it’s not even telling or convincing others, it’s about telling yourself— KNOWING what you feel and why. Now, in this whole period of dilemma, he is starting to doubt his old gifts as well. He is starting to doubt his feelings and the ability to tell the right from wrong through his feelings— because that’s what energetic stagnation feels like; it feels like degeneration of everything that is, unless you decide to build something new upon the decaying old.

This jump from Clairsentience to Claircognizance can also be likened to the jump from the 3rd eye chakra to the Crown Chakra. And I don’t mean chakras in the sense that exist and govern various activities in our bodies. I mean it in the sense of the journey of consciousness of the various aspects of our existence, from the Root to the Crown. A renowned spiritual teacher had once said that the journey from the Root to the 3rd Eye Chakra has paths and procedures, but the journey from the 3rd Eye to the Crown Chakra has no path, no process, no formula. It is based on faith and faith alone. It’s a blind jump off the cliff, “knowing” that you are safe. Up until the 3rd Eye, you might be connected, but you are still operating within limits, all of which are of course self-imposed. Jungkook is at this point where he is asked by the Universe to step into his limitlessness. I have discussed in his career reading that he is meant to do some really huge things in his lifetime, which is crazy considering he already has done pretty epic things. The phrase “chosen one” always comes to mind when I talk about Jungkook, but I’d like to clarify this phrase first. We generally tend to see this term as something that sets one apart from others, as if they are special and privileged. But know that the Divine never differentiates. Each and every human has been created exactly the same in terms of capabilities. So it all comes down to free will and personal choice of which path each of us chooses. The thing to know about Jungkook is that he is one of the most sincere people on earth— actually as far as I’ve observed THE most sincere. And before Armys comes for me, yes, all of BTS are sincere. But spiritually speaking, Jungkook is still more sincere not just compared to the rest of the members but the general collective as well. He is, at his core, a very purpose-driven person. He is the least matrix-controlled, for those who know these concepts. He can’t do things just for the sake of it. It’s important for him to have meaning and purpose behind everything he does. Sadly though, he has spent the past few years doing exactly the opposite. He has been stuck in a cycle of activities that don’t bring joy to his soul and this has been sucking the life force out of him and he has been feeling more and more drained and has developed escapist tendencies. But it’s not that he has been externally forced to do these things, at least not always. It’s more so a result of lack of consciousness on his part. He didn’t know he was doing these things. He did what he did believing that he was doing the right thing— earning money, paying bills, securing a materially comfortable life— you know, all of the matrix stuff. But like I said, he does not easily fit into the matrix. While a lot of people spend their entire lifetimes plugged into the matrix, Jungkook is the type to sense discomfort very quickly and want to escape. The reason being, as I said earlier, he is an old soul and has lived many lifetimes developing awareness and his spiritual growth. This is why in this lifetime, he is naturally a lot more evolved than most (or all) of the collective. But since we do not remember our past lives and only carry that “growth” in our DNA, it’s something that is inherent to him without him actually knowing about it— until recently. Jungkook has been undergoing his spiritual awakening, and has been developing consciousness bit by bit— breaking out of the matrix so to speak. It’s this reason that he is “chosen” to do what he is about to do. Not because he has been unfairly selected out of many others, but because he has made this choice for himself and been working sincerely over many lifetimes. For this reason, Jungkook tends to have very pure emotions, and by pure I don’t mean non-sexual (because there’s nothing impure about sexual feelings). By pure I mean raw, unadulterated. He has very heightened sensibilities and feels every emotion to their purest essence, gifting him with high Emotional Intelligence. Unfortunately, this is not always a good thing because uncontrolled, he often tends to overwhelm himself with his mixed bag of feelings and this also causes the aforementioned escapism tendencies. And this is one more reason why he should level up. Regulating and organizing his myriad emotions and giving them a shape, a course will help him channel these gifts into fulfilling his dreams and creating big things in life. There are many things he can do, like journaling, writing down his dreams, goals, plans and procedure on paper, create routines based on his goals, etc but I feel like he is past this stage and is probably stuck in the part where he is doing everything and sometimes he has his wins but these wins are not becoming stable, and he is still getting his tower moments from time to time. This should mean one thing— he has reached the last stage of this journey, which like I said, is the journey to the Crown Chakra— the state of complete faith.

When discussing the concept of complete faith, we often use terms like blind faith, unquestioning faith, etc and while these terms are not exactly wrong per se, they can create misunderstandings. The Divine has blessed us with the ability to think, question and judge, not for nothing. Is it possible to have blind faith? Of course, lots of people do. But it’s also POTENTIALLY harmful to have faith in anything without actually having a knowhow of it. It’s not necessary of course, but for those who reach that level of consciousness, it is not just important, but absolutely essential to know the ins and outs and still have faith. I say it is more difficult to have complete faith with your eyes open than to have blind faith. Claircognizance at its best, is just that. While so far, your gut feeling has served you well and led you this close to the Divine, it is now time to employ your mind to catch up with your gut feeling and make sense of it all. While you learnt to open your eyes to the truth up until now, it is time to learn to keep your eyes open without blinking again and defend and embody the truth with your whole existence. This is literally the riskiest gamble. Like I said, jumping off the cliff. And that’s what Jungkook is being asked to do. So far he has been getting clarity about himself, his life and his path forward and treading cautiously with his small efforts and small wins, it is time for him to take the big leap forward. But the question of course is, how? And to where? While the details of this answer are with Jungkook, it has to start with releasing his limiting mindset. Have you ever noticed that whenever we have limited beliefs about something, either money or love or peace, the underlying belief is always that “I am limited”, “I have limited abilities”, “I have limited resources” etc. Meaning, any limits that we place on our external lives are actually limits that we think WE have. Money exists in this world, but I think I am limited in my potential to earn money. Love exists in this world, but I think I am limited in my potential to find love. You get the point. We actually do not think resources are limited, we think they are limited for us. Sometimes “us” means me as an individual, sometimes it means us as the entire population (cue: global warming, world peace, etc). Jungkook right now, is in the prime position to step out of this limited mindset into his unlimited potential. He has been operating from his limited mindset which is why his plans, no matter how well made, are failing. He has these big, beautiful dreams and has created this beautiful, peaceful life in his mind, but his old mindset is not aligned with this abundant life. The Universe has been nudging him in the direction of the mindset that he needs to adopt to align with his manifestations. I have written earlier somewhere that Jungkook thinks quite poorly of himself as a person and has self worth issues. In reality, he is the most sincere person Mother Earth has right now who has been working so hard for so long to reach this level of consciousness, it is safe to say no one else is as worthy as him to get everything that we wants. But by having these beliefs about himself, he is blocking the rewards that are meant to come to him. It’s like he has paid the price in advance, but is not accepting the delivery. Both because of being BTS’ golden youngest, Korea’s national pride, all the sweeping predictions about his future, and also his inner voice speaking to him, he is almost too aware of the great big things he is supposed to achieve, and although he does want them, a part of him is also scared and wants to run and hide and settle for something far less aka stay put in his comfort zone— all because of his limited mindset where he thinks he is not worthy of such things. And if you think you’re not worthy, obviously you’re going to think that it’s going to be an impossible task, which eventually either makes you take all the wrong actions, or not take action at all. This is why, no matter what his goals and plans, and no matter what actions he thinks of taking, he has to start with his mindset first. In fact, while manifesting, if I can tell you to do just one thing, it is to address the limits in your mindset. We’ve heard this many times and it sounds so simple but it really is the most, if not only, important step that matters. If the mindset is aligned with your goal, all actions will effortlessly flow towards that goal.

I feel like Jungkook has reached a level of self awareness and inner self dialogue where he is able to identify where his thoughts and emotions are going. He has definitely gotten a far better grip on his emotions than when I started this page, and contrary to what he thinks, his growth has been swift. It’s just that, we always expect a linear growth but that doesn’t happen with spirituality. And so every time he has a down time, he feels like he is back to square one. More so because Jungkook has such a perfectionistic and high achiever mentality. The reason why he seems to be going in a loop right now is because he has learnt and achieved everything that he has to with his current “limited” mindset. Hi future goals require him to grow out of that, not because his goals are something huge and difficult to achieve (because literally small and big are subjective both to humans and to the Universe) but because having a limitless mindset simply means to believe that I am worthy of achieving anything and everything I desire— without conditions. This is the mindset that Jungkook needs to work on adopting right now and everything else will smoothly flow from there. He needs to utilize the power of his mind— awareness, reasoning and self dialogue— to identify wherever he limits himself from believing his worthiness to achieve what he wants to have, and continue this practice until this new “I can f***ing have anything that I want” mindset is his default. Does it worry you that Jungkook will become an egotistical prick after that? Don’t worry, his soul has done enough work in the past to be grounded and humble through it all. This mindset is different from the ego-driven power-hungry mindset. Why? Because this power is the Source power. When we settle into our Crown Chakra consciousness aka Divine consciousness, we plug ourselves into the Source’s limitless creative power. The difference between ego-driven power and Source power is that while the former separates the individual from others, Source power recognizes the individual’s power as connected to and drawing from the Cosmos and therefore one we must give back to. It’s this constant cycle of giving and receiving in the Universe that makes Source power limitless, while the ego’s idea of power is one-sided and therefore finite.

Jungkook is kind of stuck in a place where, because he sees himself as limited, he looks to others to guide him, assure him, and provide him with the knowledge and direction that he needs. And that is because he has been disconnected from Source— not literally, but consciousness-wise. So far it wasn’t too bad, but now it is time for him to let go of the need for mediators and plug himself directly to the Source, i.e. work on his Crown Chakra. And as I mentioned earlier, it is as simple as just using your conscious mind to tell yourself, or more accurately, remind yourself, of your worth and your limitlessness. Jungkook feels like he needs someone to guide him, but he has forgotten that he has been prepared for the exact same task that he looks to another to do. Now this has a connection to his Twin Flame journey because his twin is at the same threshold, ready to level up to the same stage. The only slight difference is that she has already made her choice to level up to the new stage of limitless consciousness. And now it is up to Jungkook to make his. Do you what that means? It means a Union is on the horizon! After a long period of back and forth— one of them goes through a stage first then the other follows, and vice versa— they are finally going to be on the same page energetically, if Jungkook makes the choice. This is significant because Jungkook has been thinking that Union was something that was out of his control and he had nothing to do but to sit and wait, but all the while, it was a choice he had to make. Now, of course, this choice is not as simple as saying Yes or No. It’s a choice of consciousness— a consistent way of life that will, over time, upgrade and align their mindsets so they are both at the exact same stage. As twinflames, Jungkook and his DF are like the same person living in 2 different, alternate universes, with completely different lifestyles, work situations and challenges and the way they process these situations and challenges are similar, but not on the same page at the same time. They are soully same, yet because of their mortal forms being born and being raised in different environments, their ego-bodies have retained conditioning that make them different from each other in many ways, but as they shed their ego programming and connect more and more with their soul and with Source, they will be on the exact same page. This is when Union will occur. When they truly become one person in heart and mind. But this stage right now (i.e. before Union) is also the most challenging because this is where Separation truly happens. Physical separation is the least important aspect of the TF separation. This is where they are both on their own. They must individually find their faith aka go back to the Source, because without their connection to the Source, there is no TF connection; it becomes just another earthly connection riddled with alternating bouts of joy and sorrow, peace and pain. Usually in this journey, one twin is a more advanced journeyer than the other, who first “activates” the other i.e. leads them to their consciousness and guides them, usually energetically where when one twin crosses a stage, the other is literally pulled into that stage for them to cross. It’s like only one twin gets to make the choice and the other has no choice but to follow suit. This is also the reason why one twin feels more helpless and out of control. They are literally being yanked around by their twin’s energetic choices lol. But at this juncture, the guide twin has to leave the other twin’s hand, not because they don’t want to hold on, but because they can’t— they have nothing more to offer. This is where both twins get to make their choices individually. This stage is new for both of them and therefore they must individually cross this stage and meet at the other side. This is the period of ultimate spiritual growth, the after effect of which is blissful togetherness. But possible only if both twins make their choice to move forward.

I’ll end this post with a message from Jungkook’s DF:

Jeongguk,

I hope you’re holding up okay, partner, cuz I know I’m getting my ass kicked. Did you absolutely hate this journey? Because I didn’t. Just like you, I didn’t know what I signed up for either. I made a simple wish and this road has been bumpy but it has also had the most incredible views along the way. The way I have grown over these recent times compared to my whole entire life is crazy! I love who I have become and who I continue to become. And I believe you had a part to play in this. I know you don’t believe that so much. I know you battle with your own doubts, fears and insecurities, just like I battle with mine. You still measure your importance with how much you do for others. But maybe someday I can tell you how much you have done for me simply my existing as who you are. Because who you are will determine what you will always do, not just once or twice. And you have grown so much too! I have sensed that often. But unless we learn to recognize our growth, we don’t see it. But since I had VIP seating lol I got to watch you grow. Sometimes you resisted, sometimes you fought, sometimes you hoped, sometimes you held on to the faith when I was ready to give up, sometimes you were hurtful and challenged me to find within myself new depths of love and understanding. You made me cry, you made me laugh, you made me angry, you made me blush. But you never left. And I didn’t leave either. We tried though. Both of us. And failed. Repeatedly. It’s been frustrating and funny. How we thought we could get away and the Divine kept guiding us back to each other. You know, I think the problem is that we’re both helplessly curious idiots. Always wanting to know more, always wanting to move ahead. Obstacles never had a chance with us. We were always the introspective types, you and I, always looking to solve our problems, hungry for growth. As they say, careful what you wish for.

I am aware of your expectations of me, always was. But I had to hold back. I couldn’t do anything that I wasn’t fully ready to do. Right or wrong, I had to do as I felt guided to do— it’s my sovereign right. I guess because deep down I knew that you would understand. Of all people, you would understand. And I was right, you did. You threw hands and made a mess often lol but you still did understand and patiently stuck around each time. I know it seems like I’ve been running further and further away from you, but I have actually been getting closer to you. Spiritually. I guess soon it’s going to be visible as well. Now there is this stage. It feels like a strange place to be in right now. Good strange. I know you are scared and doubtful and expect me to assure you that everything will be alright. How can I? I am scared and doubtful too. Every day, I am in these juxtaposed energies of faith and doubt, sorting through them like... one moment I am super believing, another moment I’m all nope can’t do.

I know you want me to say that I love you and that I always will, and to promise that if we take this journey, I will be there waiting for you. And I want to. I really REALLY want to make these promises to you. But in the past I have been in situations where these promises were made and then conveniently forgotten later. I’m trying not to let my past control my present or future but I have also learnt that words can be forgotten, but intentions are forever. And that is what I want to say to you: I have the intention. I intend to make this work. When the time is right, I intend to give this my best shot. Tbh, I feel like I have been giving this my best shot for a while now, but maybe we don’t agree on that lol. And I also want to tell you that I’ve never felt about anyone else what I feel about you and I don’t think anyone else can ever take your place in my life. What that means exactly I don’t know yet.

The reason why I tell you neither what to do nor what not to do is because I don’t want to control your life. I know you me to show some ownership on you, and you on me, but believe me, you’ll hate it there. I’ve been there suffocating and it’s the most beautiful feeling to make your own mistakes, learn your own lessons, and watch yourself become your own artwork masterpiece and I don’t want to take away that experience from you. This is not my apathy. This is my gift to you. Also, yes I’m a pretty generous and just generally amazing person lol but do you really think I write pages after pages for just anyone and for no reason? Put two and two together silly.

You doubt your worth so much and since I do that too, I know how that works and won’t hold that against you, but it seems like now you have no choice but to see your worth. You must know, that I’m leaving you alone only because I’m confident you’ll find your own way. I’ll admit, I haven’t always been confident in you. Maybe I will falter again. But don’t you see, that’s the point? I will never be fully confident in you until you are confident in yourself. The more you doubt, the more I doubt too. But I’ve been observing you for a long time now and it’s just so hard to not trust you. Even with all the doubts and apprehensions constantly attacking me from all directions, I keep going back to you. I really hope my gut feeling about you is right or I’ve just made a big booboo lol. The funny thing is, I don’t care as much now. It’s almost like, fine, if anything, this will go down in my history as a wonderful, fun mistake and I don’t think I will ever regret it because in this moment I’m doing what I want to do— either it leads to a reward or a lesson, both are welcome. I have never been THIS vulnerable in my life like I hear myself say these things and I sound so crazy and stupid lol I’m so not my sassy and smartassy self right now.

As I was saying, I really do believe you’ll find your way. I don’t even know what that way is, or what your problems are, but I know you will solve them all. I’ll just be here, solving mine. How do I know for sure we can solve all problems? Because each one of the 7 billion people can. The only reason they don’t is that they don’t have a strong enough reason to push themselves to do that. Do we have a strong enough reason? How much do our dreams mean to us? For me, I have had this picture painted of this perfect life for a while. And yes, it has you in it. Very prominently. In my mind, it’s this beautifully balanced, harmonious, vibrant relationship with a forever after. And I don’t want to ruin that picture for short term hedonism. So I really believe, if our reason is strong enough, if this means that much to us, no obstacle can limit us from getting what we want. You’re not the only one who goes after what he wants and never gives up. I’m somewhat of that breed too. It’s just that this has clearly been a journey and it has brought some wild surprises along the way. I’ve struggled but now I’m learning to accept anything that comes with it. If the road leads me to my destination I don’t care how bumpy it is. It’s literally up to you right now. And I promise, it’s not even that difficult when you let go of resistance. All you have to do is consistently believe that you have limitless power to achieve anything you want and to create your reality the way you want it. I know it’s been a struggle and it feels like just the opposite, but it’s been that way because believe it or not, YOU have had these limiting beliefs about yourself and what you can create. I also know it’s been a long road and you’re tired, but it’s safe to drop the defences now. You might feel like certain situations or certain people are out of your control and how could you ever have things work your way, but it’s all in the mindset. The moment you reset your mindset and stick with it, you will see your reality change. In any situation, do not focus on the external events— they are simply the results of your previous mindset. Rather, ask yourself, what limiting thoughts and beliefs you have in your mindset right now and proceed to change them. I promise to you, people and situations will change to suit your needs, without ever having to deal with anyone. All this WILL happen, so don’t give up until they do. Twinflame, soulmate, karmic, friends, partners, colleagues— everyone will adjust according to your needs when YOU step into your limitlessness. Remember, it’s not just you who are tied to your karmics, they are tied to you too. An attachment exists from both sides. You don’t have to worry over the other person severing the tie, it’s enough if you let go of your end. Ask yourself, what are the common energies I share with my karmic? Identify these energies, heal the underlying trauma and ascend from them. This automatically ends your karmic contract and your karmic is free from you as well, no matter what their status is. The reason your karmics exist is because deep in your mindset you still believe that that’s your place and that’s what you’re worthy of— it’s part of the comfort zone you’re still stuck in.

I wish you well, my favorite human, I really hope I find you at the end of this journey. I want everything that you want. There are so many shared dreams and goals that we have— I will tell you all about my dreams one day. Until then I need to live some of these on my own, go on a little solo adventure, while I let you go on yours. And when it’s over and we’re ready (and no we’re not ready right now no matter how much you try to convince me lol) I promise I will see you again. When and how, I have no idea, but I’m happy to leave that to however the Divine guides us. I promise I’ll never forget you because I literally can’t. Love you!

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welllpthisishappening · 3 years

Text

But Once a Year (1/5)

This is a trick.

It has to be. Something Pan planned, or some nonsense only possible in Neverland, because one second Emma’s sitting outside the Echo Caves and wondering how exactly things could possibly get worse, and then the world decides to take her up on the challenge. She’s not where she was. Or when she was, either.

And the future isn’t entirely what Emma expects it to be, but that might not be entirely horrible and Christmas with a husband and a family that quite clearly loves her is only kind of messing with her head. God bless us, every one.

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Rating: T Word Count: 8.3K and just a lot more than originally planned AN: It’s me. Incapable of writing a multi-chapter until starting a new job, and having other prompts to fill, and I really will fill those other prompts, so prepare yourselves for an onslaught of Christmas fic. Of which this is only kind of that. It takes place at Christmas. But also involves time travel, and way more canon divergence than I’ve ever written, and kissing. Because of who I am as a person. Blame @klynn-stormz if you must. Or don’t, because she sent a very good prompt and is very nice and I hope she enjoys this mess of words.

Also on Ao3 if that’s your jam

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She’s so goddamn hot. It’s absurd. And disgusting. But mostly absurd.

Sweat pools at the base of Emma’s spine, drips down the sides of her cheeks and falls from the edge of her jaw. Makes her skin crawl, the kind of heat that’s far too oppressive and she’s already having enough trouble breathing, so all of this seems like overkill. Which is Neverland’s schtick, she imagines.

Licking her lips doesn’t help. Moving is a lost cause before she’s even considered clamoring to her feet, and she’s genuinely not sure if she’d be able to unbend her knees anyway, crouched as she is in whatever foliage surrounds the mouth of the Echo Caves.

It smells.

The foliage — and Emma, she supposes. Most of her thoughts drift away from body odor rather quickly though, right back into that cave and she can’t figure out who made the cell Neal was in, but she also told Neal she wished he was actually dead while he was in that cell and she figures that makes her something of an asshole.

Feeling clenches in her chest, quite possibly the physical manifestation of her anxiety and growing fear and every single second that passes is another second they haven’t used to find Henry and—

“Ah, shit,” Emma hisses, not able to get her sword out of its makeshift scabbard in time. Maybe she shouldn’t keep it on her back.

Hook lifts his eyebrows.

“Are you alright, love?” “Shut up. What are you doing out here? It’s not your turn to watch.” Scoffing, he lets his tongue trace across the front of his teeth, which is only vaguely obscene, and Emma’s far too warm to deal with this. In both the literal and metaphorical sense of the word. It’s ridiculous that he’s still wearing his jacket. “Aren’t you hot?” she asks, words tumbling out of her before she’s really considered them and she wishes that trend would stop.

Quickly. Immediately, even.

Not crying after her mother’s Echo Cave admission might be one of Emma’s great accomplishments to date.

“Should all of your statements sound so much like insults?” Hook quips, his tongue continuing to torment Emma. Staring at his tongue is becoming something of a very real issue for her.

Presumably because she’s now all too aware of what that tongue is capable of, and they’d been very good at kissing. Each other, specifically. Better than she thought, honestly. And she refuses to acknowledge how often she thought about it.

She still hasn’t been able to get her sword out of its scabbard entirely. “I’m going to take your rather pointed silence as confirmation of the insults,” Hook continues. Rocking forward, the edges of his jacket threaten to brush Emma’s bent legs and she honestly has no idea what she’ll do if that happens, so leaning back seems like a reasonable response and not one that’s going to make his eyes do that thing. Where they dim ever so slightly, teasing disappearing and evolving into understanding she both hates and wants on some sort of fundamental level and—

“I’m sorry.”

On the nonexistent list of things Emma doesn’t expect, that might be numbers one through seven. Maybe even up to eight.

“You don’t—” she shakes her head, hair sticking to her skin in the process, “Well, no that’s not actually true, because you probably shouldn’t have said anything about the making out—” “—I don’t believe I used that particular phrase.”

He actually has the gall to smirk when Emma glares at him, eyebrows twisted in the kind of unspoken challenge that regularly makes her stomach flip. Emma doesn’t have time for stomach flipping. She’s got to find her kid. Possibly get, like, twenty-four minutes of uninterrupted sleep. “Even so,” Hook adds, “it was…” There’s enough fabric on that monstrosity of a jacket that Emma can only imagine he’s got plenty of pocket options to stuff his hands into, but his thumb just finds his belt loop and the exhale he lets out is rife with emotion. The same kind she’s trying to avoid, in tandem with the stomach flipping. “Your father keeps glaring at me.”

Laughing is a patently absurd reaction to that.

Her father is dying, apparently. Or tethered to this island, and that’s not much better, but it absolutely does not surprise Emma that he’s falling directly back into overprotective and if she’s going to be the asshole she absolutely is, then she should also probably admit how nice it was

to be hugged with that kind of determination before.

That might not be the right word.

Whatever, it’s the thought that counts. She thinks she might be able to fall asleep if her dad were here.

“It’s not a big deal,” Emma lies, barely opening her mouth. Like even that can’t believe what she’s trying to claim. “Although I am sorry about my dad, I can—I mean I can say something if you want.” “No, no, that wasn’t what I was suggesting, at all. I’m sure the prince has better things to worry about than—” “You and me?”

Hook hums. Keeps his thumb where it is, and his eyebrows halfway up his forehead.

Her stomach noticeably sinks.

“Of course, not—no, I just…” Stammering Captain Hook catches Emma off guard, eyeing the toe of his boot as it digs a fairly impressive divot into the ground that is no doubt staining her jeans. And she’s about to do something, really she is. Say something almost positive, or reassuring, or maybe simply jump back to her feet, bent knees be damned, so she can grab the lapels of that nearly-offensive jacket and kiss the ever-loving daylights out of him. Again. But something snaps behind her, and every single inch of Kill—no, no, Hook, still Captain Hook.

That’s more unimportant syntax.

Because all of him tenses as immediately as Emma had been hoping for before, a soft noise on the wind that’s strong enough to ruffle those sweat-drenched strands of her hair. Her mouth goes dry, the laughter making her pulse sputter traitorously and Hook’s sword all but flies out of its scabbard.

“Emma, you need to move,” he says, calm as anything. It’s an act. She knows — can tell even when it appears the jungle is getting darker, and the stars above them are going out, but then again, she’s always been able to tell with him, and it’s very disappointing that her rather dramatic swallow doesn’t do anything to help the state of her mouth.

He used her name.

Eventually that will feel very important.

“What? Why, it’s—”

“Please, love,” Hook presses, “I need you to come with me. Right now. How long have you been out here?” Shrugging is harder than Emma expects it to be. As if the heat is actually a weight, pressing directly into her shoulders and rooting her exactly where she is. “We need to move, Swan. You shouldn’t be here.” “Well, that’s kind of rude.”

Widening his eyes makes it even more obvious how blue they are, and they are so ridiculously blue sometimes Emma wonders if she could simply drown in them. Sometimes that doesn’t seem like all that unappealing a prospect.

God, he was good at kissing.

“You told me to shut up earlier. Turnabout is fair play, darling.” “Running the gamut of nicknames, aren’t we? Is that a power move?” “Endearments, really. And no, it’s not. Disappointing that wasn’t clearer what with my intention to apologize and make sure you were alright.”

“Sounds suspiciously like playing knight in pirate armor.” “Can’t imagine armor would be very comfortable. Not much freedom of movement, you see.”

She laughs. Without thinking too much about the sound, mostly because the sound seems to bubble out of Emma and that’s not right. She doesn’t bubble. She stews, and sits and—

Something springs from the ground. Spring is generous, honestly. Cracks form under Emma’s splayed out fingers, tiny green vines that file up with a smell that make her vision swim and her senses fog, and she’s dimly aware of a hand on her shoulder. Tugging her forward, but Emma’s legs simply are not interested in functioning, and she’s so comfortable here. Standing seems even more unreasonable than before, especially when all of her inhales come with that scent. Reminding her of something she can’t quite understand, and it’s suspiciously similar to the tide coming in, and he’s still yelling.

And swinging his sword. Light gleams off the blade, probably because whatever is pushing out of the ground is also glowing, and Emma’s mind can’t really cope with glowing plants right now.

She squeezes her eyes closed. Burrows her face into the very solid chest she’s somehow level with, and Emma’s not entirely sure when that happened, but she also can’t bring herself to complain about it. Especially when it feels like his lips graze her temple. More than once.

“Swan, c’mon love we’ve got to go.”

Groaning, Emma’s head doesn’t ache. Nothing does, actually. She’s oddly comfortably and her internal-body temperature appears to be biologically accurate, but she’s admittedly not totally confident about her knowledge of that second thing, and whatever is underneath her left cheek is also quite obviously not the very solid, slightly uncovered chest of a pirate captain she’d like to make out with again.

Her stomach flies into her throat that time. So, there’s something to be said for a change of pace.

Emma blinks. Swallows. More than once. Licks her lips, to absolutely no avail — but she can’t be bothered with that when it’s clear her heart is doing its damndest to beat its way out of her chest, and she’s not in Neverland anymore.

For one thing, there’s a distinct lack of smells. Bad ones, at least. Wherever she is smells suspiciously liked baked goods and the forest, which makes sense as soon as Emma blinks open her eyes. There’s a rather large tree across from her.

Covered in garland and lights that blink back at her, ornaments hang from nearly every branch, and there are enough presents underneath that she briefly wonders which bank they had to rob to buy all of that. Snow flurries dance outside windows that are frosted over, and there are a lot of windows in this room.

Some of them look out towards an expansive backyard, while others make it clear just how close they are to the water, and Emma thinks she can almost smell the water, but that might be wishful thinking and—

“Holy shit,” she breathes, gaze finally landing on the voice in front of her and she knew the voice, even when she didn’t want to admit it. That’s something of a theme for her now. “What—what are you wearing?” Tilting his head in confusion, strands of hair threaten to fall into Hook’s eyes. The same blue as always, if not a little sharper because it’s obvious he doesn’t understand what’s going on, and Emma’s going to cling to that. So it feels like they’re on slightly more even footing.

“Clothes,” he drawls, and that's the same too. Emma can’t move. Is having quite a lot of trouble breathing, and clothes is a vast understatement.

Pants that are somehow tighter than any of the leather he’d previously sported make his legs look ridiculous, especially when there’s a noticeable lack of sword and Emma was kind of getting used to the sword. He’s rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, nothing covering the brace at the end of his arm, but she’s also admittedly preoccupied with the number of buttons he’s undone and the vest that’s hanging loosely from his shoulders, and this might actually be the first time she’s seen him without a jacket on.

Her stomach will probably just stay in her throat, then.

“You’ll do dangerous things to my ego, if you keep staring like that,” Hook warns, but any passably snarky response gets caught behind Emma’s increasingly problematic tongue and her brain still hasn’t caught up yet.

To the glint of light reflecting from his hand.

And one very specific finger.

Mouth dropping and breath practically flying out of her, Emma nearly steps on both of his feet when she jumps to hers, trying without much success to stay upright. Her hands fly towards him of their own accord, or so she will argue forever, and that can’t possibly be her first mistake.

Putting her goddamn scabbard on her back was, probably.

As it is, whatever number she’s at is suddenly the only number that matters, because her flat palms make it undeniably clear that she’s got her own bit of jewelry on her own specific finger, and Killian’s hand keeps moving. Up and down her spine, like that’s something it’s allowed to do. There is not enough oxygen in the world to sigh as loudly as she’d like to.

“Steady on, love,” Hook murmurs, and that about does it. Neck giving up and knees threatening to buckle underneath her, Emma’s fingers curl into this absolutely ridiculous shirt at the same time her forehead collides with his collarbone, and he doesn’t really flinch.

Tenses, slightly — although she figures that’s because of the worry she can practically fele radiating off him, and his hand stills. So as to ensure that his arm can also tighten around her middle, while his lips brush across her temple and the top of her hair.

Anywhere he can reach, it seems.

“Nightmare?” he asks, pulling her closer. They fit very well together, Emma realizes. Like pieces of a puzzle, and that’s admittedly sentimental, but she’s also ninety-six percent certain she’s still dreaming. That’s the only reasonable explanation.

She can’t be dead. Not from a plant attack in Neverland. And Kill—Hook, goddamnit, Hook, wouldn’t have let that happen. She’s sure of that, at least.

“Um, yeah, yeah,” she stammers. “I—sorry, I don’t think I meant to fall asleep.” “Nothing to apologize for. You’ve been baking for a small army the last couple of days, only serves that’d be exhausting.”

“Have I?” Leaning back, he narrows his eyes, and that’s fair. None of this makes sense. Rings, and trees, and baking. She’s never baked in her life. If she had, it wouldn’t smell nearly this good.

“Who, um—” Emma continues, eyes widening when the realization hits her. “Henry! Where’s Henry?” Running is not easy with the arm still around seemingly getting tighter by the second, but her fear has already evolved into the kind of maternal-based adrenaline they do scientific studies on. “Let go of me,” she sneers, and he does. Immediately. The sound of his hands hitting his jeans is far too loud. “Where’s my kid? Why isn’t he here?” The tongue thing.

Swiping across the front of Hook’s teeth, the tip of his tongue finds the corner of his mouth and the inside of his cheek, jutting out with questions and the almost audible cranking of metaphorical gears in his head. “It’s not Christmas yet,” Hook explains, voice oddly similar to a few minutes before, but Emma’s starting to realize that was not a few minutes before and she’s starting to feel a little nauseous.

“Yuh huh.” “Are you alright, love?” He says it soft enough that something flutters in the back of Emma’s brain, some long-forgotten hint of emotion that she refuses to acknowledge. She doesn’t have time for it. There’s baking to do, supposedly. “Yeah, yeah, I’m, uh—I’m fine,” Emma promises, only one side of Hook’s mouth tilting up. “Just...tired, I guess.” “Because of the nightmare.” “Say that again when it doesn’t sound quite so much like an accusation.” “No accusation,” he objects, but it rings as sincere as her promise and the light’s got to be messing with her now. Bouncing off his ring the way it is. “Haven’t had a nightmare in some time, but that’s neither here nor there.” “Wow, you suck at that.”

There goes the other side of his mouth. Emma might be staring at his mouth. “Occasionally,” Hook agrees. “What’d you dream about, then?” Lying is very appealing. Coming up with a story Emma knows he’ll only half believe, but she assumes she’s got plausible deniability too, and she can’t think of a single thing to say. That’s disappointing.

“I was in Neverland.”

If nothing else, staring at his mouth — and the rest of his admittedly attractive face — makes it easy to tell the moment Hook’s jaw clenches. Nerves color his gaze, almost as if he’s trying to remember something he’s already forgotten, but Emma appears to be the only one having some sort of existential crisis and the hint of grey at his temples suggests its been some time since Neverland. Figuring out how much time exactly, will probably be a bit of a challenge. “And?” “And what?” “And there’s plenty of terrors to warrant nightmares in Neverland,” Hook says, stepping out of Emma’s space. Also disappointing. “What exactly was it?” Shaking her head slowly, Emma’s hair doesn’t move. She’s not nearly as sweaty as she was either, the blanket at her feet proof positive of that, although her skin feels almost clammy and the magic in her veins has started to buzz. If Killian doesn’t stop moving his tongue in his mouth, she’s going to scream.

Ah, goddamn.

“I don’t know,” she says, not the lie she still wants it to be, “just some weird plant thing and you wanted me to come with you, but that was probably now, right?” There’s no way he’s comfortable with his neck at that angle. “Maybe. Do you still want to go?” “To, uh—” “—Doc called this morning, said the paint was ready to pick up.” “Paint,” Emma echoes, another confusing string of words that threatens to knock her back on the couch. It was a comfortable couch though, so maybe that’s not the worst thing that could happen to her. Neither is waking up in a reality where Hook wears jeans like that and stares at her like she’s his—she drops back. Onto the comfortable couch.

“Mmhm, the color we picked out last week? He claimed he had to order it, but your father claims he’s just nervous because he doesn’t want to offend me and—” “—Why would you get offended by a dwarf?” Dots of pink appear on his cheeks. The bits not covered with stubble, and there’s some grey in that as well. It works, honestly. “He mercilessly overcharges for her services,” Hook says, clearly not the first time this particular rant has been voiced, “and it’s because he’s the only hardware store in town. Which is why you wanted to go. Help small businesses and the economy of the realm, even when Regina claimed we could order it just as easily off Amazon. But that only led to your denouncement of Jeff Bezos, and I do love it when you openly flout capitalism, so—” He shrugs. Emma might be going into shock. “Here we are, with slightly delayed, if not well-mixed paint, enough baked goods to mask the smell, and your parents guarantee that there’s more than enough room for all of us on Christmas Eve.”

“We’re painting on Christmas Eve?” Concern continues to ripple around him, made all the more clear by the pinch between his eyebrows and how often he rocks forward before shaking his head. It’s four times. “No, we’re painting—well, whenever we have time really, but you did mention Friday evening, and that way Hope could stay at the farm. Naturally she’s thrilled at the prospect.” “Right, right, right, that’s....yeah, that’s right.” She’s so bad at lying. To Hook, specifically. Open book practically broadcasts itself from every twitch of his mouth, and Emma is still doing a God awful job of not staring at his mouth, but her head is spinning and she can’t understand any of this and she’s kind of curious about what paint color they picked.

And who Hope is.

She refuses to acknowledge the flicker of familiarity in the back corner of her brain.

She’s got to get out of here. Away from the couch, and whatever color the paint might be, back to Neverland, which is not something she ever thought she’d want, but they haven’t found Henry yet and who knows what Pan is planning next and— “Where’s Henry?” Emma whispers, far too aware of the desperation in those two words. Hook’s lips thin. When he presses them together. “I know he’s not going to be here until Christmas, but is—he’s ok, right?” “Swan, are you—” “—Just tell me where my kid is, Hook!” Those words fly out of her, voice rising on every letter until it feels as if they’re cutting their way out of Emma’s soul, leaving lacerations behind and the blood that’s appeared on the tip of her tongue makes her recoil. She fully expects him to take another step back, not sure when she stood up again, only that her knees are knocking together now, so naturally that’s not what happens at all.

Hook moves back into her space, made all the easier by the lack of weapons between them, hand finding her cheek as easily as it traced her spine, and Emma doesn’t want to lean into the touch, but he’s so ridiculously warm and she’s teetering on the edge of undeniable insanity, so she’s going to give herself this. For at least six seconds.

“Visiting Ella’s stepsister, so while he’s probably not having the best time, Lu’s always been a rather large fan of that particular realm, and Drizella is a bit of a pushover. I’d imagine the little lass is going gangbusters on the present front.”

Emma’s breathing out of her mouth.

That seems fair as well. Trying to piece together any of that information with the life she’s currently living is all but impossible, and it’s only a matter of time until her knees give up again. Honestly, not crying continues to be her greatest talent.

“Maybe I should just go to the store,” Hook says, “and let you try and get some more rest.”

Even the thought of being left here alone makes Emma’s magic boil in the pit of her stomach — wherever it might be sitting now, and she’s already shaking her head. “No, no, I want to make sure it’s the right color.” “Yuh huh.” “Sounding less than agreeable, Captain.” It’s a mean trick. One she knows will work, and it does. Hook’s eyes flash, and his brows jump, the hand that returned to her hip at some point tightening ever so slightly. “Tell me that you’re alright, and I’ll consider it.” “I’m fine.” “You’re a woefully bad liar is what you are, Your Highness.” Scrunching her nose, Emma tries very hard to temper the fluttering between her ribs. Magic mixes with nerves and flirting that’s not necessarily easier than it’s been, but certainly more fine-tuned. As if it’s a dance both of them are used to. “You can’t pull your sword on Doc, you know that, right?” “That hasn’t happened in years.” “Hook either, that might honestly be worse.” “He’s got a stranglehold on the hardware economy in this town. It’s not right. Gives him leave to charge an arm and a leg.” “If I tell you I’m fine again, will that distract you from your questionable obsession with hardware-based economies?” “Probably not,” Hook grins, more teasing and fluttering and his eyebrows jump again. As soon as Emma licks her lips.

“No challenging the dwarfs to a duel.” Saluting is only passably overwhelming, but that appears to be the way this is going, and Emma cannot come up with an appropriate adjective to describe whatever sound she makes. As soon as he kisses her cheek. Giggling is out of the realm of possibility. “Noted,” Hook says, “c’mon, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can pick up the little sea monster.”

At this point, Emma would almost welcome a battle with a sea monster. Get her blood flowing, provide an outlet for all her adrenaline and, she hopes at least, if she dies in this dream, she’ll wake up back in Neverland.

This has to be a dream.

So, it seems they live in a mansion.

Stepping outside, Emma’s breath catches loudly as she stares at the wraparound porch and there are somehow more windows than she’d originally noticed, and a turret-type thing involved that’s only vaguely absurd. Almost as much as the way people greet them on Main Street, familiar faces mixing in with strangers, all of whom nod and smile and some who even reach a hand out to Hook like he’s not a pirate or only recently returned to Storybrooke with the one thing they needed to get to Neverland, but Emma also supposes that was years ago, even if the math is still admittedly kind of messing with her.

That was never her strongest subject in school.

And there’s no sword strapped to his hip when the bell over the hardware store door rings, but Hook’s called “Doc” still sounds appropriately threatening, the scuffle of shoes and slightly panted breaths making Emma almost smile in spite of herself and her mathematical failings. “Captain,” Doc exhales, shuffling behind the counter that spans the far wall of the store. Tools and cans of paint line the shelves above his head, a name tag pinned to his shirt that seems unnecessary, but Emma’s nearly charmed by that as well and wholly unprepared for Doc to glance her way, adding—“Your Highness, it’s so nice to see you. I’ve got your order all ready, if you’d like to…”

Whatever else he says disappears in a haze of buzzing magic and malfunctioning joints, Emma’s fingers fluttering at her side while it sounds like Killian does his best to argue the price. For the paint. That they’re going to use. In their mansion.

She didn’t ask which room they were going to paint.

That felt like a flashing-neon sign, announcing how little she belongs in this place and Emma’s fairly certain Hook can tell, but that’s also another sign she’s not entirely ready to deal with at the moment and Doc flinches when the literal hook drops onto the counter.

Emma presses her lips together.

So as not to laugh. Like a person nearing their psychotic breaking point.

“But Captain,” Doc argues, “we did agree on that mark, and—” “—Aye, but that was before it took an extra three days to receive the color, and I think there should be some sort of fee reduction for that.” “There aren’t any fees, just—” “—The overall cost, then.”

Pain flutters at the back of her consciousness when her teeth continue to dig into her lips, but the feeling twits with amusement and that looming sense of insanity, and Hook hardly even moves when Emma does. So she can rest her hand on his shoulder.

“Maybe it’s not that big of a deal,” she ventures.

Hook gapes at her. “Traitor.” “Pirate,’ she counters. “But I think we can afford it. Y’know, just to help the—” “—Locals,” he finishes, “aye, it’s something I’ve heard several thousand times before, love. But it is the principle of the thing.” “The thing being what, exactly?” “Efficiency,” Hook replies, as cool as any vegetable Emma could come up with, and Doc’s eyes go comically wide behind his glasses. The whole thing is actually pretty impressive. Attractive, maybe. She doesn’t have time for that. She has to—

Get back home is not the right string of words at all. Home is some abstract concept that certainly does not exist in the reality Emma came from, and even less so in a place like Neverland, but she doesn’t belong here, with the jewelry and the house, and she can’t quite get over the way his face twisted. When she called him Hook.

“Naturally,” Emma mutters. “Can we just get the paint, Doc? Then we’ll be out of your hair.” Doc hums, but he doesn’t move and Emma can’t believe he doesn’t move. She’s given him an out. A reason to scamper back to wherever he’s keeping their paint, away from Hook’s appraising stare and the hand that’s already inching back towards hers, and he’s somehow even more tactile than usual.

It makes her mouth go dry again.

“Of course, Your Highness. If your husband could just agree to the terms of price, then—” Hook rolls his whole head, hair shifting in the process, and that’s minimally distracting when Emma’s heart constricts in her chest. Because she knew. Has eyes, after all. And the notable ability to stare. But there’s something about hearing the word that makes it all the more real, and Hook’s argument doesn’t have anything to do with relationship monikers.

She’s starting to have several assumptions as to who Hope is. One assumption, really.

Pulling her hand away from Hook’s is easier when he’s so preoccupied, twisting the ring around her finger and staring at the stone and it’s—well, it’s gorgeous, honestly. Exactly what Emma would imagine if she’d ever let herself imagine such a thing, and that’s got to be another sign or something at least in the realm of positive, and it turns out they’re painting the dining room. Blue, and that’s something of a cliche, but anything Emma has to say about that gets stuck halfway out of her undeniably chapped lips when Killian ushers her out of the store, a smile tugging at the ends of his mouth because— “Color reminds me a bit of that gown of yours.”

She’s atrocious at this. Schooling her features, or acting like every word out of his mouth isn’t a punch to her literal gut. It’s a miracle she hasn’t just keeled over. In the middle of goddamn Main Street, where the guy who is very clearly her husband has stopped them.

So as to stare at her incredulously.

“You’ve got no idea what I’m talking about, do you?” “Presumptuous.” “Not an answer, m’dear.” Maybe Emma will start keeping track of endearments. Just to give her mind something to latch onto. There appear to be more than she’s used to. “You wore a very blue gown to Elsa’s wedding, made some rather wonderful comments about how it matched my eyes that also made you blush rather severely, all of which I will admit to still thinking about with almost startling regularity.” She’s got no idea who the fuck Elsa is, or why they’d go to her wedding. Wearing a gown. And making sweepingly sentimental statements.

Her smile is weak at best. “Sorry, just—that paint smell got to me, I think.” “Sure it did,” Hook says, clearly not convinced, “maybe we should go see Regina.” “Why would we do that?” Leveling her with a slightly different expression, Hook’s tongue shifts behind his closed mouth. Emma juts her chin out. In misplaced defiance, and inherent stubbornness. She’ll find Regina later. When she’s not at least partially thinking about kissing this version of Kill—

Hook, Hook, Hook, Ho—she wonders how he proposed. If he proposed. Maybe she did, what does Emma know? Nothing, apparently. “Do you remember what those plants looked like?” “What?” Emma asks. “Maybe you’re the one who got messed up by paint fumes.” “Absolutely scathing, Swan. Answer the question, please.” There’s an undercurrent of command in his voice — like she’s a member of his crew, and she doesn’t know if he has a crew anymore, but Emma bristles at the thought of being part of it all the same and the muscles in her neck do not appreciate being angled like this. “I told you, it was just a dream.” “Aye, you did. And as you would so lovingly put it, that particular lie sucked quite a bit. So once more, what were you dreaming about and where were you in the dream?” Opening her mouth, Emma’s sarcastic and inevitably snark-filled response evaporates as soon as she hears the clack of heels on the sidewalk next to them and the woman walking towards them has shockingly red hair. And a kid clinging to her side. Who immediately tries to launch herself at Hook.

“Codfish heads,” the woman mumbles, Killian not able to hold back his chuckle or keep his arms at his side. The same ones that catch the kid and pull her close to his chest, peppering either one of her cheeks with kisses.

Emma seriously considers dying right there.

Dying will absolutely wake her up, she’s convinced.

“Articulate as always,” Hook grins. The woman sticks her tongue out. “What are you doing here? I thought—ah,” he grunts, a knee slamming into his side, “control the limbs Mel, or I’m going to drop you and then your mom will be even more angry than she is.” The dexterity of this woman’s face is astounding. As is the width of Hook’s smile. “I’m not angry,” she objects, “and I’m here because you didn’t answer your phone. There’s some kind of disaster happening at the realm line.” “What kind of disaster?” “Something to do with magic, and it looks like some of Lancelot’s knights are exploring the forest here, looking for some kind of something because you know they have to have a quest.” “David can’t do anything about that?” “Was more than willing to if you actually decided to acknowledge him today. Hence the frustration over your phone issues.” “An insult roll,” Killian laughs, the sound almost more surprising than anything else Emma’s encountered today. She’s heard him laugh before. Of course she has. But it’s usually cynical, or occasionally even a little evil, and this guy can’t be evil. Not standing there, acting as a human jungle gym to a kid, and a woman Emma’s mind has also started to make assumptions about. The hair was a pretty good clue. No, this isn’t the first time she’s heard him laugh, but it’s certainly her favorite and if she plays the sound on loop in her head for at least several hours, then she hopes no one will ever be the wiser.

Emma hardly notices that she’s referred to him as Killian.

That’s probably for the best.

“And,” he adds, “we finally finished with Doc, so we can go relieve the prince of his duties, even though he offered. Multiple times.” Ariel, Emma assumes this is the goddam Little Mermaid, throws her head back. “Oh Gods, did you terrify him? Is that why you’re being like this? Y’know the paint was back ordered, that’s why it took so long.” “There was no terrifying involved, and if that was the case, he should have made it known. All I heard was that he didn’t have it in stock, and it was going to take a few more days and—”

He cuts himself off when Ariel waves an impatient hand in his face, turning towards Emma expectantly. “Did he terrify Doc?” Emma nods out of instinct, some dark and distant part of her wanting to be involved in this banter and this place, and this place isn’t real, so that’s a dangerous line of thinking, but she can’t seem to stop herself. In the same way Killian can’t seem to do anything except tug her against his side. And kiss the top of her hair.

He really likes to do that.

Especially impressive with the kid still hanging from him.

“She’s a bloody traitor,” he announces, “but one of the other dwarfs is bringing the paint home, and, like I said, we were on our way to pick up the sea monster, so David can deal with the knights. They only listen to one of their own, anyway.” “No honor amongst thieves, huh?” Ariel asks knowingly.

Killian scowls. It’s frustratingly adorable.

“Fine, fine,” she shakes her head, “I retract any annoyance about your refusal to turn the sound on your phone on, if only because you gave my arms a break, and your dining room will look very good in that color.” “It’s a good color.” The arm around her shoulders is the only thing that keeps Emma from melting into the pavement beneath her boots. She had at least six pairs of boots in their hallway closet. Also absurd. And she hears the lilt in Killian’s voice, even if Ariel doesn’t — the soft intensity that sounds eerily similar to the way he promised he understood what it felt to lose hope, how quickly he agreed to her plan, demands, after the kiss and she imagines they kiss quite a lot in this reality.

If her other assumptions are right.

Ariel stares at them for a beat longer, one that Emma worries will end in a longer conversation and inevitable discussion of the awkward way she’s standing, but then the mermaid with legs is pulling her kid back and quieting the riot that causes, and Killian’s arm stays exactly where it is. “Send some pictures when you paint the first wall, ok?”

Killian nods. Stiffer than it should be, but Emma’s only barely managing to stay conscious at this point, and she doesn’t object when he directs her past Granny’s and down a road she’s never noticed before.

His arm doesn’t move.

In the days that will follow, Emma will never be entirely sure how she manages it. Tears sting her eyes almost as soon as the screen door slams behind her, more than one voice drifting down the hall, and there are pictures everywhere. Her own face smiles back at her from multiple times, eyes jumping from frame to frame and back again, a life that isn’t hers playing out despite her own misgivings, and if she’d thought the overall width of Killian’s smile was something ten minutes earlier, it’s got nothing on the several here.

Wearing a tuxedo that does something unfamiliar to her heart, and gazing back from an ornate frame that also holds a grown-up face that’s still able to remind her of the boy she left in Neverland, and another with his arm around Emma’s shoulders again, exhaustion clear even from here, but there’s something cradled in her arms and a tiny hat that makes her whole soul ache and—

“Swan,” Hook breathes, and at least they’re back to that. In her head, where she's clearly going insane. “Emma love, I really need you to tell me what’s going on.”

That’s impossible. Not for any other reason than Emma’s vocal chords appear to have stopped working, and she never actually cries.

It’s a Christmas miracle.

Of the shittiest variety, because Hook’s hovering far too close to her and Emma wonders if he notices the magic coursing through her, or if this is just how he normally stands and none of it matters when two sets of feet sprint down the hallway.

Frames rattle in their wake, both of them shouting and jumping before Emma’s even remotely prepared. She can’t imagine she ever would be. Maybe in a different lifetime. This one, possibly.

Not hers.

Not as is.

And as it is, Hook ducks down before the blur rushing towards Emma’s shin can knock her over, hauling the giggling and smiling bundle over his shoulder. More kisses are dispensed, laughter ringing out around them and only slightly muted by the mess of dark curls that threatens to cover Hook’s face.

He tries to blow it away, several times.

“Emma,” another voice says, tugging at the end of her jacket and it’s a little overwhelming to see her father’s eyes staring up at her. From a kid. Who isn’t very old, but feels like a memory she can’t place, and if her mind doesn’t stop piecing things together Emma is going to scream.

She doesn’t want to know.

Absolutely cannot cope, honestly.

“Emma,” he repeats, “if you and Killian are going to stay here for Christmas, can we make snowmen again? Because Henry said we could and Aunt Gina said she’d magic them so they wouldn’t melt and you’re way better at rolling than Mom is.” Someone huffs, Mary Margaret’s arms crossing over her chest and there’s an apron tied around her waist. Just to drive the domestic point home. “I resent that, and Dad is totally going to be better at rolling snowballs this year. He’s promised we’re going to win.” Emma’s mouth drops. In confusion, and several other adjectives. All of which Hook quite clearly recognizes, and that’s messing with her too.

Reading her as well as he does should leave her feeling off-kilter. Reeling, even. It doesn’t. It’s like some sort of metaphorical anchor, and Emma finds herself constantly glancing over her shoulder, hoping for that one specific tilt of his lips and— “Let’s wait to go over rules until Henry gets here, alright mate? Don’t want to get into specifics when he’s going to have his own demands.”

Opening his mouth, the kid’s argument disappears once Mary Margaret makes another noise, adding a soft “Neal,” and only one of Emma’s knees bends. That’s lame. Very un-Savior like.

And she doesn’t know how Killian manages it, either. She also does not care. Leaning into the hand that’s suddenly cemented to her back, Emma nods like someone has asked her a question, and there are more footsteps and smiles and she bites her tongue. David doesn’t disappear. He’s here. In this place he shouldn’t be, some sort of farm that had an almost kitschy mat outside that screen door and chickens lingering along the side of the front yard, and Killian’s voice is in her ear. “In through your nose, out through your mouth.” “I’ll kick you,” Emma warns.

“I’d drop the sea monster that way.” She’s just about to ask the wholly unnecessary question of who the fuck is the sea monster when the beast in question tries very hard to stand on Hook's shoulders. All limbs and hair in desperate need of a cut, both Mary Margaret and David look overjoyed by her mere presence, warmth blooming of its own volition in Emma’s chest. “Mama,” she yells, resting her chin on top of Killian’s head, “are you going to magic the snowmen too?”

More than one pair of eyes flash towards Emma, suddenly frozen with a maelstrom of fear and words echoing between her ears and she’s got to talk. She can’t talk. Her tongue is growing in her mouth, no doubt a byproduct of that now occurring insanity, and her own eyes keep moving. Tracing over the lines of her daughter’s face, and the questionably cute clothes she’s wearing and her eyes are almost alarmingly blue.

Tears fall on Emma’s cheeks.

“Emma,” David mutters, but she barely hears him. Reaching out a hand that’s shaking much more than she��d like, her fingers graze Hope’s cheek and the skin there is soft and warm and obviously loved, like that’s something that’s possible. This new reality doesn’t have any rules, though. So maybe that works here.

She must nod. Emma’s hair moves, so that’s got to mean something and she’s clinging to every victory she can get at this point. “I’ll try,” Emma says, not quite the promise she'd like it to be. Hook's fingers twist under the hem of her shirt, grazing across her actual spine and it’s disappointing when she tenses.

Noticeably.

David’s eyes turn appraising — but he doesn’t immediately look at Mary Margaret like Emma expects. He glances at Hook, a quick jerk of his shoulders that she only notices when they bump hers. “Did you hear about the knights, then?” “Ariel accosted us on our way here. What do they want, exactly?” “As far as I can tell, they’re just scouting, but who knows with those Camelot idiots.” Mary Margaret scoffs. David might actually blush. “I’m going to go out and talk to them now, and Snow sent a bird.” The hand at Emma’s back flattens. So as to keep her upright.

“Lance usually responds quickly,” Mary Margaret says, “but you know the cross-realm travel, it’s always hit or miss. Especially with the weather. Hopefully we’ll know what they’re doing sooner rather than later.” Humming in what sounds like agreement, Hook shifts Hope and keeps Emma pulled against his side. His eyes dart back towards David, an unspoken conversation Emma doesn’t entirely want to hear. When it’s obviously about her.

And her father doesn’t respond either, just crosses the space between them and kisses her cheek. “Everything’s going to be ok, kid.”

“Yuh huh,” she mumbles, but it sounds like a lie and Hope falls asleep with her head on Hook's shoulder while they walk home.

It takes her about three seconds to realize she used that word as well.

And then another fifteen to totally freak out about it.

As silently as possible.

To his credit, he doesn’t press the issue. He stares, without much subtlety — but Hook never comes out and accuses Emma of anything, or questions how little she knows about this life they’ve got, and she’s not entirely surprised when he doesn’t ask when she’s coming to bed. He just takes a deep breath, and kisses the top of her hair again, which is somewhere like the ninth time that’s happened, walking up the stairs and presumably waiting for Emma.

In their bed.

They share. Together. As people. Married people, with a very cute kid and Henry’s in some other version of the Enchanted Forest with his wife, which is only marginally screwing with Emma. That’s positive, she thinks. Marginally is better than totally.

But it’s also not her life, and around twelve forty-seven she starts to wonder if she’s fucked with the Emma that’s supposed to be here by waking up on that couch, and she can’t get over how comfortable that couch was, and she starts walking.

Aimlessly, really.

Down halls and from room to room, opening doors that regularly make breathing a legitimate challenge. Henry’s old room clearly hasn’t been changed, and Hope’s hair covers her entire pillow, much like Emma’s regularly does, and they’ve got an actual sitting room and family room, a nautical theme that feels a little to on the nose, but is also somehow perfect and she knows he’s there before he says anything.

“You’re lurking,” Emma accuses, jumping onto the edge of the kitchen counter now that she’s finished her patrol.

“And you’re admittedly freaking me out just a bit.” Her laugh does that bubble thing again, something that Killian could probably claim ownership over if he wanted. She knows he won’t, though. Not this version. Not this guy, staring at her like he’s torn between terrified and terrorizing, like he’d challenge the timeline to a duel if needs be.

“Where’s your sword?” “In the basement. Where it’s been for years.” “You don’t use your sword much?” Taking a step forward, the floor creaks under his sock-covered feet and the realization that he must have put socks back on at some point does what Emma can only imagine is irreparable damage to more than half a dozen internal organs. “Asking that adds to my growing pile of suspicions and worries.” “The freaked out ones?” “Aye,” he nods, hand and hook resting on her hips. Maybe there are magnets there. Maybe he’s just hardwired to touch her. Emma fists her hands. “Why are you surprised by that?” “If I ask you a question will you totally freak out more?” That time he shakes his head. Hair shifts in the process, and there have to be magnets involved. That’s the only reasonable explanation for how quickly Emma’s fingers find the strands, brushing them away and relishing the exact way Killian’s eyes flutter shut and—damn, she did it again. His hand tightens.

Like he’s nervous she’s going to disappear otherwise.

“Question for a question is breaking conversational rules,” he starts, “But—” “—You’re a pirate?” “Something that’s been well-documented. What do you want to know?” Everything seems unacceptably vast, and Emma’s not sure which question to pick when they’re all weighing down on her still too-large tongue, but Killian’s eyes don’t pull away from her and he turns his head into her palm. The one cupping his cheek.

She’s an absolute disaster. Which is, she’ll argue the exact reason, she asks: “Are you in love with me?” He doesn’t laugh. More credit to him, although this credit comes with an asterisk for the exact way his expression shatters. In slow motion. For maxim effect. Muscles in his throat shift when he swallows, the tip of his tongue darting between barely-parted lips, and his next inhale has a distinct shuddering quality to it.

“More than I knew I could be,” he whispers. “You want to tell me the truth now?” “About?

Bending his neck, Killian’s exhale brushes Emma’s cheek and for one absolutely insane moment, that would make sense if they were actually married, she thinks he’s going to kiss her. He doesn’t. Figures. Lips graze the edge of hers, sending shockwaves that ripple up her spine and threaten to make magic explode from the tips of her fingers and she has to close her eyes. At the force of his voice, steady despite the emotion behind it.

“Who are you, really?” The shockwaves disappear. Turn into fear, and something ice-cold and Emma has to blink.

“What?” He clicks his tongue. More than once, in obvious reproach, and she wonders if she’ll have to walk to the plank at some point, the tip of his hook threatening to dig into her skin. “I’ll ask you once more, darling. It’s very good magic, whatever you’re doing. I can feel it, but—” “—You can feel my magic?” “Stop talking,” he sneers, and the symmetry of it all feels like a slap. Several times over. “Now either you tell me the truth, or I’ll have to do something drastic. Who are you, and what have you done with my wife?”

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #cs fic #captain swan fic #but once a year #festive fic a thon 2k20 #i really will fill those other prompts now i promise #sorry i'm such a constant and consistent flake internet #also! this is apparently the 40th captain swan work of mine on ao3 #which is slightly skewed since there are so many collections but still #that's a heck of a lotta words #thanks for reading em

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lmjupdates · 3 years

Text

Lauren Jauregui on her Sense of Self, the innate magic of spirituality, & her upcoming EP

Portrait by: Halie Torris

Portrait Reference Photo by: Munachi Osegbu

Interview by: Isabella Vega

Photos by: Tristian Hollingsworth

One of the most surreal moments of my life was sitting in the Zoom room, waiting for Lauren Jauregui to enter. There was a plethora of thoughts swirling in my head, mostly nerves - I had never met someone who I had such a deep cosmic connection with, someone I'd spent the last eight years following and looking to guidance for. What if they weren't all I thought they would be? Then, I spotted the Lauren Jauregui Edition of Coup De Main on my desk shelf, and that's when it hit me: I had manifested this entire conversation. God put this person in my path for a reason, all those years ago, and I was about to find out why. As I let her into the Zoom, I had no idea the emotional journey the next forty five minutes would lead me. What unfolded was something I always dreamed, and somehow, almost predicted: that in meeting the woman I had spent a lifetime loving and learning from, in truly baring our souls and sharing our life philosophies, a few of my internal puzzle pieces would click together with every laughing breath and anecdote dripping off of her with intellect and authenticity. I present to you: a candid conversation with Lauren Jauregui - how she describes her Sense of Self, her ideas on the current mental health movement, and her upcoming EP.

Isabella: How would you describe your Sense of Self in one sentence?

Lauren: I guess my sense of self is just kind of… This is complex now that I’m sitting and thinking about it! I’m like ‘what does my sense of self mean?!’ I guess it’s just kind of the awareness that I’m embodying. Yeah, like, how much I’m showing up for myself and the self care aspect of all of it. That’s usually when I feel the most sense of self, when I’m aware of my body and my mind and my heart and how it’s feeling, so self-care.

Isabella: Now more than ever, there seems to be a growing awareness/spread of information on mental health, a sort of movement throughout social media platforms. Is there any facet of this growing movement that you would want to change or is there anything you would like to add to the conversations?

Lauren: I mean, I think there is always room for improvement in how we approach things. Again, this is a topic that is new to all of us as a collective, we’ve been under the oppressive thumb of capitalism, imperialism, and colonization for a very long time, and we still live in a settler-colonial state. I think that the disparities between how mental health affects different people is definitely a nuanced conversation. I think that acknowledging state violence can not just be talked away is important, and I don’t think that we talk often enough about how people of color’s mental health suffers because there are systemic things in place to oppress them and to hurt them. That are still in place and that we still debate and that we still have to have conversations about, which has been centuries of people talking about whether or not it’s ok to brutalize people of color. I think bringing that into the conversation a lot more - state violence’s impact on our mental health. A lot of the time we are just, like “Oh, I’m traumatized because my parents treated me a certain way” or “I’m traumatized because this person did something to me” but what we don’t really address is those behaviors of other folks like parents - something I’m trying to acknowledge is saying “I know my parents didn’t have the tools, and that’s something I’m learning through my mental health journey.” That’s not something I understood off the bat. I thought that the things that had happened to me in my life were the reasons why I was this way.

When you start going into the journey, and when the journey involves the spiritual element of the journey. That’s another thing, I would love to have more conversations about spiritual illness. Where the lack of faith and the lack of belief in self is the root cause of a lot of depression and anxiety. That disconnect from God and the disconnect from the belief that reality can be what we manifest it. We have to take responsibility for the way that our world looks right now, and the way we look, and the way we operate and hold one another or don’t. It really has to come down to every individual person wanting to show up for themselves more and understand themselves more.

I would like to have more conversations about the connectivity between everything, the intersectionality between this stuff.

Isabella: I love that. As someone who’s religious and has a very strong spiritual connection to all of that, that’s what I love about you so much - a lot of people are scared to talk about religion and spirituality, whilst you just go there, and talk about something that is so foundational to our beings.

Lauren: Yeah. I’ll challenge that a little bit and say it’s not necessarily religion. I feel like religion can be an instrument used to pin us against each other. It’s about spirituality because God is a reflection of us and lives in each of us. That’s why God looks so different everywhere because everywhere you go, God looks like the people there, because God is self. Self is God. As far as, like, when you think of the higher self, when you pray, whoever you pray to - this being is here for you, and you see yourself in them. Whilst you can understand that they are there for the rest of the world, as well, that connection regardless of religion, that understanding that there is something greater than yourself, is benevolent?

Isabella: Yeah.

Lauren: And that’s so important. I think we often forget about that, and I know that my darkest times were when I forgot that God existed. And when I didn’t trust in God and their vision for me. A lot of times, we feel like things are happening to us, but really, they’re happening for us.

Isabella: So, I’ve heard whispers through the grapevine of there being an EP in the works. Congratulations! I’ve been waiting!

Lauren: Hahaha!

Isabella: How do you plan on continuing your pure self expression through the release of a shorter form project and an eventual album?

Lauren: Well, I think that music is where I am the most self-expressive. It’s my safe space. I think writing in general, whether that’s my journal, or if that’s my notepad, or wherever. I used to just think a lot, and thinking a lot really messed me up, it gave me a lot of anxiety, and I used to think in loops, which I still do, but I’m better at catching myself now. That self expression is just a pertinent element of why I do music. I feel like I naturally just wanna talk about feelings! I’m just an emo shawty, I really love to put my stuff into words, and I feel like the challenge of putting it into a three minute or four minute song is kind of dope, because you get to kind of get it out. You don’t have to think about all of the things, you have to curate what you’re talking about and how you get the audience to understand your storyline in a concise, intentional way. Whether that’s short form or long form, it’s definitely my approach to making art.

Isabella: I love that! So, I don’t know how much you can say, and it’s alright if you can’t say much! I just wanted to know - what’s the vibe? I know you’ve worked in the past with the brilliant Kid Harpoon, who helped make Fine Line by Harry Styles, which is my favorite album of all time and saved me in so many ways, so will you two be working together on this project?

Lauren: On this specific EP, I am not working with him. I have other songs with him, because he and I make beautiful music together. I love Kid Harpoon. He’s a good friend and a really beautiful collaborator. On this EP, nothing’s produced by him on it, that’s not to say that we won’t work together again or the songs that we made won’t be released in some other format, but this one, I’m almost done with mixing now.

Isabella: Oooo!!!

Lauren: Yeah! I’m just in the process of getting all of the visuals together and making sure everything is packaged nicely and looking good for everybody!

Isabella: I’m so excited!

Lauren: Yes! I think it’s very close, and while I totally understand why everyone is expectant of something from me - I get that and I totally understand - this process of making this music has been WAY more profound than just the music itself, it’s been a huge rediscovery of self. It’s been unlearning like no other. It’s been a messy and painful and joyous process in all kinds of different ways. To me, it’s been so much more than what I can give people. That’s the beautiful after effect to me, so people feel seen, heard, and safe, like there’s someone else who understands where they're at. I focus a lot on the things that I think about, so I hope that whoever listens to it can feel the potency of the self-discovery that went into this and realize why it took so long. Self-discovery isn’t something you do in a couple of weeks, especially everything that I’d been through. I’m a very sensitive soul, and everything that went on really shifted my perception of self into a very toxic place that I needed to come out of, I really needed this time. Everyday, it’s made me trust more in God and God’s plan. Everytime I thought I had it figured out, ready to release, every single time, God would derail and say “Wait, there’s something bigger.” Every time, I was like “God! Let me put out this freaking music!” Isabella: Hahaha!

Lauren: And God’s like “yeah, yeah! I know! But people have to know who you are! And YOU don’t know who you are! When you know who you are, then we can give it to the world!” I know who I am now!

Isabella: That’s amazing to hear. I really hate when fans try to claim the intimacy of “knowing you” when we only know the public version of you, but I’m a very big empath, especially with the public figures I vibe with, I choose them very wisely. I’ve followed you for a very long time, so I can see the change from “Expectations’'' to “50 Ft.”

Lauren: Right!?

Isabella: Yeah! You’re a new, spectacular whole, and I hope you know how proud I am.

Lauren: Thank you!!!! I’m proud of you, too! You’ve been on this journey with me.

Isabella: Thank you! I really think I have! It’s taken a while for us to put this interview together, and I really feel like God put us together at the perfect moment, because mentally, I feel like I’m in the perfect place to meet you.

Lauren: God’s timing is something else!

This introduction and interview has been condensed for the online format. The full interview appears in Issue 2: Rumination, open for orders until June 10th. If you've read this whole thing - I love you to actual pieces - use code 333 at checkout for a special discount!

https://www.senseofselfzine.com/product-page/issue-2-rumination

Source: https://www.senseofselfzine.com/post/lauren-jauregui-on-her-sense-of-self-the-innate-magic-of-spirituality-her-upcoming-ep

#lauren jauregui #interview #postedbymarina

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