A break-down of why your magickal intent may not be taking effect in your life
Hi there! So, if you’re reading this, you’ve probably had this problem at one time or another; in fact, almost all witches experience a ‘fizzled’ spell every once in awhile… but what happens when you’ve been casting multiple, and they all just won’t take? Here are some reasons why this could be happening:
The spell was not transferred enough energy to take effect. Think of this as filling up a balloon with helium ~ If you don’t put enough in, the balloon with just roll around or float a few inches above the floor, rather than floating high in the air like you intended for it to do. This can also happen with spells! There needs to be enough energy transfer (The energy you put in, the energy you’ve taken from something/someone else, etc.) to allow the spell to ‘take hold’ and manifest strongly and in the way you preferred.
You’re not helping the magick along when it requires you to do so. For many spells, such as magick geared towards jobs, people, physical events, etc. there needs to be more than just one magickal variable working towards your intent to manifest. You need to work for it; If you cast a spell for a job, you also better be turning in that application and resume along with it ~! A spell can increase your chance, luck, and appeal, but it cannot contact your employer and set up an interview.
(A break-off from the above reason) Your conditions just don’t allow the magick to materialize easily. This is the most possible to happen in weather spells, such as those to bring heavy rain to a dry climate area, or magick for something that your life/area just cannot manifest. For example, imagine somebody trying to cast a spell to ‘make one of their friends fall in love with them’ whilst having not a single friend in their life; the spell is incapable of materializing, because their are no variables for it to work with! It is a sad thing to think about, certainly, but this example shows how casting a spell that is wrong for your life situation can cause it to work improperly or not at all. (Tip: This person should have cast a spell for new friends first! This also shows how you may be casting spells that are wrong for the situation)
Your wording was not the best. Similar to how people will often word things in a positive or future-tense manner (EX: ‘I AM BRAVE’ / rather than ‘I WILL BE BRAVE’) during spellwork or how in some fairytales the genie will grant a wish in a horrible way according to the wording of a wish, you must be careful to be clear and concise in what you’re wanting! Stay away from vague or general wording; You’ll wish you had when you try to cast a spell for a person to love you romantically, and later find that they love you like a sibling or best friend ~
You forgot to/incorrectly grounded after a spell. Grounding is not only important to maintain your own energies, but it is also a good tool for assuring that the energies of your spell don’t simply go on floating ‘up in the clouds’, failing to come down to earth and manifest! Grounding after a spell also increases the chances that it will work faster.
Your focus/energy was off during the spell. Common for those with a low rate of focus, who’s mind wanders easily, or with low/confidence and doubt (which can especially put off your energies) you might have broken the intent of the spell while casting it. Not to worry, for spells can be re-cast and focus can be sharpened, but be sure to have a strong mind when performing visualization or transferring your intent into a spell! This can lead to a spell manifesting in a different way than you intended (which may not always be a bad thing) or just all-together not working.
(For people-directed magick)The person on the other end of your spell has a protection ward. If you’re simply trying as hard as you can to curse, heal, bless, cast upon another witch without their knowledge, there’s a chance that they have up some magickal barriers of their own. Be cautious with curses on other witches especially, since there are wards to reflect curses back upon the sender, and you never know! This can also be so if you are casting magick upon somebody to improve an aspect of their life; they may unknowingly be mentally/spiritually guarding, or ‘closing’ their energy, making it difficult for the magick to attach to them.
Further tip: Have patience! Some spells take a while to manifest or come to be, and if you’re becoming discouraged after them not working within a week, you need to have a bit of patience.
Keep in mind that these are things anybody can do without knowing; they do not at all make you a bad or incapable witch, but it is important to know and accept why they may not be working. I hope for those that experience it, these reasons can provide some insight ~ This post was inspired by all of the anons who have been asking this question frequently
Send me a message if you have any questions or comments ♡ Thank you!
When I got to class,
I found a pen in my backpack that I’d never seen before. I must’ve accidentally
taken it from someone at the library, I thought. Oh well, they probably
wouldn’t miss it.
The professor still hadn’t arrived, so I opened my notebook
and doodled a caterpillar on a leaf. After I moved on to drawing a flower, I
noticed something wiggling on the paper.
The caterpillar was crawling around the leaf.
I slammed my notebook shut. When I peeked, the caterpillar
was making its way down the stem. I ripped out the piece of paper, crumpled it
up, and threw it in the trash just before the professor walked in.
“I don’t know how it’s doing that,” I said to my roommate,
Alan. I sketched a butterfly, and it immediately began to flutter around the
“Whoa,” he said. “What happens if you write words?”
hadn’t occurred to me. I wrote the word water. Within seconds, the
entire sheet of paper melted into a puddle of water. It spread across the table
and dripped onto the floor.
“That was not what I expected,” I said as I ran to get a
I returned, I saw Alan get another sheet of paper and write fuego in
huge letters. With a roar, the paper was consumed by a burst of flame.
“What are you doing?” I yelled as Alan started laughing. I
grabbed my water bottle from my backpack and dumped its contents on the table.
The fire went out, leaving a huge scorch mark.
“Hey, this is awesome!” said Alan. He pulled up his shirt
sleeve. “Can you do me a favor and write over my tattoo? It’s Chinese for
‘strength’. Maybe it’ll turn me into the Hulk.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t think that’s the best idea.”
“Okay, I’ll do it then.” Before I could move, he snatched up
the pen and hastily traced over the tattoo on his shoulder.
I frantically searched, but the pen was nowhere to be found.
Staring at the large, snorting animal in front of me, I realized that his
tattoo didn’t mean ‘strength’.
2. The Bubbler’s costume is, objectively and metaphorically, the woooorst.
There’s no way he’d go along with this. Nino would get akumatized, and Gabriel would take one look at his outfit and call the whole thing off. It doesn’t matter how close this chance would bring him to getting the Miraculouses.
“No. That’s hideous. I am not going to be responsible for that.”
Taken from what someone said in a conversation last night.
Loving someone with mental illness isn’t some beautifully tragic romance they portray in movies.
Loving someone with mental illness is deteriorating, it is harsh, and it is cruel.
It’s holding her when she’s falling apart, and not the type of falling apart that’s innocently sad. It’s self-destructive; it’s holding her while she violently weeps and mourns as if her life has been taken from her by someone evil. It’s watching her scream with hate at the world, and wanting to scream with her too.
It’s congratulating her for getting out of bed, because surely that is an accomplishment no one truly understands. Seeing her overcome herself and fight such detrimental thoughts that block her from starting what the average eye sees as just another day. You see it as another one of her battles.
It is silently crying in the bathroom while she is in the bedroom, and making damn sure she doesn’t hear. Because this illness doesn’t just take from her, it takes from you too.
Loving someone with mental illness isn’t at all what it seems to be. It’s an unfair constant struggle.
Loving someone with mental illness is deteriorating, it is harsh, and it is cruel.
It is an unwritten promise to love her furiously through any obstacle
I feel sad for la la land, they had the biggest award of the night, they were saying there speeches and then it was taken away. Moonlight is a great movie, but it will be overshadowed by this royal fuck up. I'm sorry for both films
me too!!! It was so incredibly sad to see the lalaland crew being rushed off stage - poor guy was interrupted in the middle of his speech :(
I mean it was probably such an amazing moment for the moonlight crew but I can’t imagine what it must feel like to hold your first Oscar in your hands and then it gets taken away 2 minutes afterwards I would literally feel so embarrassed and humiliated
Lalaland did win a lot of oscars but that was just the movie as a whole - people don’t think enough about those who worked hard on the movie and didn’t get an oscar
I mean emma already had her oscar she was fine and ryan got his 5 seconds of fame since he was nominated and millions of people watched him play the role of sebastian
but what about the people who worked hard behind the scenes and were so happy to hold the Oscar in their hands since that is the only way they could ever be publicly appreciated?
And then having it taken away from you?
As someone who is very invested in movies and would love to be part of the movie industry one day I really felt for those people
I really wanted moonlight to win and it was amazing that they did I was happy but I can’t help feeling sad for the people who got their oscars taken away what a tragedy
Also kudos to jimmy kimmel who tried to save the whole thing and was like ‘let’s just give everyone an oscar’ I wish that had happened
i could say that this isn’t a somewhat passive-aggressive response to the anons @capseycartwright got the other night about it somehow being okay for people to make robert gay instead of bi in fic, but then i’d be lying.
Robert can feel the music in his bones. The heavy bass thuds
through the floorboards and up his legs. He’s on his fourth drink of this club
alone, and the world has become delightfully fuzzy. Aaron must be feeling
equally carefree, because he’s moving against Robert in a way that could almost
be considered dancing. As his husband curls his fingers into the hair at the
base of his neck and pulls him in for a kiss, Robert can’t help but feel proud
of himself. He’s at a gay club, kissing Aaron as the lights flash around them, painting
the insides of his eyelids red then purple then orange. When they pull apart
Aaron laughs and leans in close to Robert’s neck. For a moment, Robert thinks
that he’s going to give him a love bite, which will be fun trying to hide under
clothing in the thick July heat, but he just asks if they can step out for a
moment to get some air.
When they step out into the smoking area, it’s like being
released from a pressure chamber. Even under the heavy cloud of smoke, the air
feels open and breathable compared to the stifling heat of the club. They take
a seat on some steps that lead down to a pit where most of the smokers are
stood. A passer-by asks Aaron if he has a lighter, which he doesn’t.
‘Are you having a good time?’ Aaron asks, speaking at normal
volume for the first time since they stepped through the doors of the club.
Robert nods. ‘I am.’
Aaron grins, letting his head fall against Robert’s
shoulder. It’s a comforting weight, and despite the chaos around them,
Robert couldn’t feel more calm.
‘Isn’t that the most domestic thing you’ve ever seen?’
Robert is shaken from his serenity by an unfamiliar voice. A
man stands a couple of steps down from them, cigarette in hand. He looks like
something from a 90s grunge band; his hair meticulously messy and his clothes
expensively inexpensive looking.
‘Well, we are married,’ Aaron says, slipping his hand into
Robert’s. Robert can feel the cool metal of Aaron’s wedding ring pressing into his palm.
A silent but wonderful reminder of the commitment they made to one another.
‘Hashtag love wins,’ the man says, raising his cigarette to
his lips. His fingernails are painted black. ‘We don’t get many coupled up guys
around here. Mostly just sad, lonely people looking for a quick lay. That and
straight girls who just love gay culture. Y’know?’
Robert nods, even though he’s not sure he does. It’s not
like he’s ever been all that familiar with the gay scene. He hasn’t been to
pride. He hadn’t willingly gone to a gay bar before now. Back when he was with
Chrissie he’d hooked up with random guys off Grindr, but he’s not sure that
counts as engaging with LGBT culture.
‘Still, congrats,’ the man says, raising his glass in such
an aggressive toast that beer spills down his arm into the frayed sleeve of his
plaid shirt. ‘Gay icons, the pair of you.’
The words are out before Robert even thinks about what he’s
‘I’m bi, actually.’
He feels Aaron’s hand tighten in his. His head is too fuzzy
to make sense of why. The man raises an eyebrow and stubs his cigarette out on
a nearby wall.
Did Cersei really wait half her life for power? Robert was extremely uninterested in ruling & it is tradition for queens/ladies to run their castles and such. Would Jon Arryn have prevented her from looking over tariffs or deciding policies on fishing rights if Cersei had shone an interest?
On the risk of sounding pedantic, that’s not the exact quote
The rule was hers; Cersei did not mean to give it up until Tommen came of age. I waited, so can he. I waited half my life.
She had played the dutiful daughter, the blushing bride, the pliant
wife. She had suffered Robert’s drunken groping, Jaime’s jealousy,
Renly’s mockery, Varys with his titters, Stannis endlessly grinding his
teeth. She had contended with Jon Arryn, Ned Stark, and her vile,
treacherous, murderous dwarf brother, all the while promising herself
that one day it would be her turn. If Margaery Tyrell thinks to cheat me
of my hour in the sun, she had bloody well think again.
The rule is hers. The castle and the kingdom and realm are hers. It may not seem like a major difference on first glance but it speaks of the kind of power Cersei has wanted and waited for half her life. She does not want a woman’s power as set by the prevailing gendered power structure in Westeros, neither is she exactly happy with the notion of dependency on her lord, be it her father or her husband, for power or having to submit to their will and be bound by their permission. Cersei hates the restrictions the patriarchy set on her and how she is repeatedly dismissed because of her gender. It had been ingrained in her since she was a child that she is inherently inferior because of her gender which led her to internalize a lot of misogyny and hatred of her own gender and to yearn for the kind of power her male relatives have. She conceives of herself as being Tywin’s only true son and as such, she wants the kind of power men have, not merely a higher degree of the lesser power afforded to women in Westeros.
Cersei wants to rule, she wants the Iron Throne. That’s what she literally dreams of. She wants to be “high above them all“, to rule and have the highest power in Westeros and be the ultimate governing authority with no one, no man,
to control her or limit the extent of her power or push her aside to
rule himself. She has spent years under the authority of misogynistic men who abused her whichever way they wanted and exacted their patriarchal power on her, between an emotionally abusive father whose affection for her was directly proportional to her worth as a marriage pawn insofar as she contributes to Lannister legacy and power, and a drunken abusive husband who had zero regard for her. She has desired the kind of power these men wielded to be her own power that’s not dependent on them or restricted by their will and what they allow her to do.
As far as Cersei is concerned, this is her reward for all she has suffered, the dream she has harbored and kept buried inside. Her chance to surpass her father and show herself to be Tywin Lannister’s true heir, something she strove to prove for so long so she could show him that the daughter he dismissed is worthier than the golden son he prized. As Queen Regent and Lady of Casterly Rock in her own right, Cersei, for the first time ever, has no man to check her power or force her to bow to his will, and she will not abide having that kind of power taken from her or for someone to encroach on her authority in any conceivable way, be it Margaery, Kevan, Jaime or even Tommen himself. This is the power Cersei has waited half her life for, not some crumbs her hated husband threw her (not
that I think Robert would have ever allowed her to take an active role
in governing the realm in the first place). Any power Cerse might or might not have had under Robert simply can not compare to her having sole royal authority with the wealth of Casterly Rock at her disposal and under her directive.
TWILIGHT ZONE (an slbp fic featuring the convulated inner workings of the tortured mind of Fuma Kotaro.)
(A COMPANION FICLET TO THE FUMA KOTARO FICLET BY @jemchew IT STARTED OUT AS A LETTER OF PRAISE , EVOLVED INTO SOMETHING ELSE AND TOOK A LIFE OF ITS’ OWN.)
(SETTING: Fuma Kotaro is about to meet his end by the hand of Saizo when an unexpected party intervenes. This ficlet is a meagre attempt to capture the few moments encompessing this incident. Based on the Fuma Kotaro Ninja ES)
One word I said
It came out as a breath, gushing from my mouth, formed between two lungs like a parayer, sighed out in relief, In worship, In dispair.
A multitude of conflicting emotions. A cesspool of swirling indecision.As always I am a mess, a disgrace.
Stars collide,planets spin off kilter ,a supernova prepares to meet its’ incendiary demise and I wait for the inevitable to come to pass.
I gaze worshipully at the grim beauty of my beloved, the Prince of Darkness, the Grim reaper. Aaah! What wonderful luck!! The ruler of Tartarus has come to usher me to the underworld himself. I sigh like a love lorn damsel, enchanted by his ruby red gaze. Dull embers burn in his eyes, glimmering with blood lust . It cuts me to ribbons and i shudder in ecstacy. Once again i stand enraptured by his sweet cruelty.
My dark prince encompasses the entire world for me. The sum total of the void i wished to exist in.i bow my head in submission to my beloved, offering my neck to his blade.my heart rejoices in the knowledge that this filthy existence would meet it’s end by his blessed bloody hand.
No dawn no day , no dusk no night, i am always in this twilight , a cursed creature of the twilight zone.
I exist in a greyscale, neither black nor white. Light or dark, no one claims me as it’s own. Am i forever doomed to be but a shade? An orphan of the shadows.
I wish to join my beloved in eternal darkness. Oh how presumptious for a pitiful creature Iike me!! I wonder at my own boldness. I wish to be a son of Nyx- the eternal goddess of perpetual and frightening night. And here to usher me to Tartarus is my own Demos.
Such mysterious beauty my beloved has. He holds me spell bound in his dark majesty. The grim reaper. The eternal black hole at the centre of my universe. Absorbing all light. Casting no shadows. Drawing all who pass him into his orbit of destruction . I too wish to collapse into him . Be one with him.
A treacherous thought whispers through my mind, echoing with doubt, telling me that this incessant desire to die by my beloveds’ hand is infact a glorified plea for release, not a wish to achieve nirvana as i claim. A release From this mortal body that binds me to this plain of existence.
I wish to simply sieze existing.
I wish to Erase all evidence of the filth that i am.
A waste of space. An afterthought of someone’s half formed wish come into unwanted existence.
Then! Oh maybe then! Just maybe! These blood curdling screams might stop. This constant throbbing pain in my head might end. It’s like a volcano erupting in my skull, spewing poisonous lava and sulphurous gases, making it so hard….oh so hard to breath. Mocking voices cutting through me like molten lead poured into my ears; Telling me of my worthlessness, urging me to kill, to make myself worth existing . It gets better when the blood flows through my hands, when i feel a life slip by , it gets better for a while. Just a little while.
I am Hateful Unwanted Unacceptable. Won’t darkness personified accept me? I am a ninja doomed to be unaccepted by my own. Forever an outsider.
my soul calls out to my prince to end this now. I can take no more. In the final hours of my existence i am grateful to meet my end by the grim reaper himself. Finally accepted, embraced into the blessed cold arms of the dark. A sinner like me, who has no chance of forgiveness or retribution. Will i no longer be in twilight? I relax myself , take a deep breath and feel myself drowning. My lungs begin to fill with salt water, the voices a painful memory of the past, the pain about to end . The orchestra of my life reaches its truimphant mournful peak.
I hear a distant voice, stopping my execution, pleading for my life.i remember whom it belongs to. Its a glimmering memory in the grey of my existence, so vivid, so bright; yet strangely distant. A memory made in another life time, or a few moments of existence taken from someone else’s life, loaned memories of respite.
Memories made In another chasm of space, a separate dimension of time.
Memories made with the creature of light i had taken to haunt recently. Like a moth drawn to a flame i was pulled in by her strange gravity. Spurred by her kindness i stalked her.trying to puzzle out why she would be kind to filth like me.
I am not meant to be near a creature of light. So pure, so perfect. I will be exorcised in the presence of her grace.Will i burn and turn into ashes under her incandescent gaze? I cannot help but wonder.
I never knew day light could be so violent. Eviscerating. Incendiary. Luminiscent.
No dawn no day i am a creature of twilight. With nowhere to escape.
Saizos’ blade is stopped by my Goddess.My prince , my saviour, why won’t you put an end to my pain? this constant blood letting is in vain.My pleas for mercy reach a grotesque height. Why would your hand be stayed by a creature of the light? By this goddess who barely knows me?
I attempt to hide myself within myself.i curl around my body like a wounded animal. Sorry attempts at making myself invisible.
My prince and my goddess pull me in seperate directions.where should i go? Why do i suddenly wish to exist in light?
I scream and i scream and then i scream some more, till i have nothing left in me anymore. Still i scream hoarsely writhing in pain.
When i come to, I am being held in her arms, cradled by her gentle embrace. The world lurches spinning out of control. Galaxies collide . Supernovas die and my soul is set on fire that cannot be seen by any mortal eye. Gentle fingers card through my hair, setting my head ablaze. Sweet voice cooing at me, i anticipate molten lead. What fresh dimension of hell will i be introduced to now?
From deep within the recesses of my mind a cruel memory mocks me…
my beloved son
and then eviscerated me with her whip
because I love you
Kill or you are worth nothing.
She hit me and told me i was loved.
It was ultraviolence.
It was the only love i knew.
I stiffle my sobs by biting my lips so hard they bleed. Gingerly, i taste the rusted iron running in my veins . Not you, not you too…my gentle goddess. I start rocking and repeating to myself like a sacred mantra, my lifeline keeping me from my descent into utter insanity. Not you too. I prayed desperately, urgently . For some reason I do not want her to hate me or hit me.
I wait for the whip that never hits me. I squeeze my eyes hard ,desperately trying to keep the tears from spilling out.
Pitiful,pitiable ,ugly what a filthy dog i am, not fit to sully my prince or goddess.
My body is wrecked by my ugly shuddering sobs.I squeeze my eyes harder and wait for the slap that never hits my cheek.
She is Celine the goddess of moonlight so calm and peaceful. Blessed by Iris the goddess of dawn, harbinger of truth and beauty . Her gentle light envelops me.
I never knew day light could bring so much peace.
A gentle kiss falls on my brow .
I open my eyes to her incendiary luminiscence, half afraid of being blinded.
One word she says
One word only
My whole world stills
I need a sequel to BOTW where a few years later after the main game, Link gets himself sealed away by the Yiga clan or something and we play as Zelda who is like “I did not fight Ganon for 100 years to have my best knight taken from me, someone get me a sword, fuck divine powers, I’m gonna save him my goddamn self.”
And so we just have Zelda kicking her way through the kingdoms, going “GIVE ME BACK LINK OR I SWEAR TO GODS.”
Why do you think Victarion a POV character? I get not every POV is going to knock it out of the park but he's almost aggressively dull and entirely unsympathetic. I thought GRRM said he'd always find something human with the POVs and not do a monster one but Victarion is like Gregor but less interesting. Is there something thematic I'm missing that makes him worth the page space?
“Where is this Dothraki Sea?” he demanded. “I will sail the Iron Fleet across it and find the queen wherever she may be.”
The fisherman laughed aloud. “That would be a sight worth seeing. The Dothraki Sea is made of grass, fool.”
- Victarion, ADWD
Victarion’s PoV chapters are a massive joke on him, and he’s so lacking in intelligence that he fails to get it. Even when every step of the set-up is manifestly apparent in his own internal monologue, the man cannot put it together into a punchline.
“I burnt the lion’s fleet,” Victarion insisted. “With mine own hands I flung the first torch onto his flagship.”
“The Crow’s Eye hatched the scheme.”
- The Iron Captain, AFFC
Victarion drank with the rest. There is no wine so sweet as wine taken from a foe. Someone had told him that once. His father, or his brother Balon.
[A few pages later]
Firelight glimmered in Euron’s eye. His smiling eye. “Will you take a cup of Lord Hewett’s wine? There’s no wine half so sweet as wine taken from a beaten foe.”
- The Reaver, AFFC
Euron’s gifts are poisoned, the captain reminded himself the day the dusky woman came aboard. I want none of his leavings. He had decided then that he would slit her throat and toss her in the sea, a blood sacrifice to the Drowned God. Somehow, though, he had never quite gotten around to it.
- The Iron Suitor, ADWD
“The Iron Suitor” in ADWD almost always gets a giggle from me, as Victarion complains that the sun is too sunny, the ocean is too blue, the forest is too green and full of trees, the storms are too stormy, and the monkeys! Damn those monkeys! They mock him.
Victarion Greyjoy mistrusted laughter. The sound of it always left him with the uneasy feeling he was the butt of some jape he did not understand. Euron Crow’s Eye had oft made mock of him when they were boys. So had Aeron, before he became the Damphair. Their mockery oft came disguised as praise, and sometimes Victarion had not even realised he was being mocked. Not until he heard the laughter.
- The Iron Suitor, ADWD
The monkeys are the author making mock of Victarion, and the character is not even left with that uneasy feeling that the punchline is approaching.
The black priest bowed his head. “There is no need. The Lord of Light has shown me your worth, Lord Captain. Every night in my fires I glimpse the glory that awaits you.”
Chapter Summary: The women pays Stiles a visit at school.
Paring: McCall Pack x Reader, Stiles x Motherly Figure! Reader
Stiles hadn’t taken the news well, no one did actually. Scott was confused because he would have known if Stiles were turnt but the women explained that he was probably born one and haven’t reached the age of turning.
Malia and Lydia kept asking questioned on what the women meant and Kira wanted to question her about the cold ones since she kept mentioning them but she didn’t.
Stiles had a short panic attack on te couch and his girlfriend malia managed to calm him down resuring him with calm words on how they figure everything out.
Soon after no one was getting anywhere with answers since the women had dodged all their questions about her life and how she knew of what Stiles were, in short terms stiles got pissed off and left to head home.
The (h/c) women sat inside of a car she had taken from someone, she didn’t know who the car belonged too but she did steal it and hot wired it.
Right now she was following Stiles scent down the road to a high school. She parked her car outside of the school in the parking lot and took a deep breathe.
Getting out of the car she walked her inside of the school and once inside she smelt the air trying to find Stiles scent in the sea of mixed scents. The hallways were cleared which most likely meant the students were in class.
Following Stiles scent, it lead her to the boys bathroom and she just walked inside not even caring that she just walked inside of an high schools boy bathroom and could most likely get arrested.
Seeing the familiar dark brown haired boy she leaned against the wall up behind him, “So lovely day we’re having here, right?”
Stiles jumped in surprise and turned his head over his shoulder seeing the women from the woods, he stared at her in surprise.
She was inside of his school.
She was inside of the boys bathroom, watching him take a piss.
“What the hell?!” Stiles shouted leaning more into the toilet trying to hide himself from her view.
She cocked her head to the side with an raised brow, “I don’t see the problem in covering up Stiles, it’s just a dick like every other guy has.”
“You know it’s not fair that you know my name since you meet me yesterday yet we don’t know yours.”
He hissed out at her, “My given name is Ruby but my birth name is (Y/n).”
He exchanged an confused expression toward her, “What?” He asked. (Y/n) rolled her (e/c) eyes at the awkward teen. She was getting annoyed with the kid but she knew it wasn’t his fault she was just short tempered.
“The pack I was in I gave myself a given name I choice Ruby but my birthname from my parents is originally (y/n).”
After that awkward exchange between Stiles and (y/n) in the the boys bathroom (y/n) decided to leave the restroom for the him to fix himself up and finish his business in there.
Now standing outside of the boys bathroom Stiles leaned against the wall beside (y/n), “So why are you here exactly?”
(Y/n) knew he would be curious on why she would visit him at school, she took a deep breath before turning toward him and asking. “How old are you?”
“What?” confusly he asked.
“How old are you.” She asked once again saying each words slowly.
(Y/n) made a ace expression almost as if she was thinking but being sarcastic at the same time, “Well kiddo looks like it’s time to give you the talk.”
“Hate to break it to you but my dad already did that.” Stiles stated sarcastically, that earned a smack on the forehead from her.
“Not that talk dumbass the whole what you are talk.”
“You already did, remember? You told Scott I was a beta which by tye way I don’t know how since I’m pretty sure im 100% human.” Stiles said.
“Yeah but theirs different kinds of wolf species smart ass. There’s your type of werewolves you been around, there’s Lupins and there’s my kind.” (Y/n) said walking off down the hallways to the entrance Stiles following close behind.
“Yes my kind, we’re more enhanced.” (Y/n) said slowly so Stiles would understand.
“Should I get Scott for this or something?” He said begin her following her toward ‘her’ car.
“Nope because trust me kiddo” she got inside of the drivers side Stiles seated in the passengers side beside her. She turned toward him staring into his eyes an grim expression on her face, “Stiles ain’t gonna be able to help you with this problem.”
Death was a concept Cassian learned very early in his life. Born into war, and recruited as a child, death was an inescapable occurrence. As the years went by and the missions became more dangerous, the thought of mortality was a constant and unwelcome companion.
You had to shelve it, you had to expect to die, you had to have no fear in slipping the suicide pill concealed in your transponder into your mouth, if the mission warranted it.
He had never expected to live long, never really gave thought to the future. There was no future in war, no end in sight to the killing. He lived every day as needed, performed his duties as needed. Go to sleep, wake up, repeat.
So when his life altered, when a future opened up to him, it was so foreign a concept it made his head spin. Suddenly there was no Death Star, suddenly there was a chance to beat the Empire. The future was bright, made even brighter with Jyn by his side.