Jealous Of The Version Of Me Currently Sleeping On His Bare Chest .

i love thinking about the magical careers i will pursue after hogwarts. like a curse breaker turned unspeakable????? i finally get to investigate the secrets of the universe and whatnot with magic?????? and i’m cool and mysterious because the whole thing about unspeakables is that they literally can not talk about the work they do???? and its not even just that. Being a curse breaker is literally being a treasure hunting archeologist. That travels around the world to collect and restore magical artifacts that may even be archaic at times . its !!!! so !!!! cool !!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAA

it’s another level of friend breakup when u remove them from ur scripts 😭

AND WHAT OF THE LOVERS . . .                  ╱    . hogwarts desired reality

𓊈 𓇚 𓊉

I. TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

A curious little thing, Tom Riddle was the day he was born━his eyes, which had just blinked open, had latched its vision onto his mothers hand, and his tiny fingers and his tiny arm had reached up to touch, to see, to learn the love of his mother. This Tom Riddle is borne out of love, and is raised being loved. It makes all the difference. And yet━he is still fascinated by death. Still, he wishes to know of a way to evade it. Still, it makes his skin crawl.

So, he will find a way. Tom Riddle comes to Hogwarts, the school of witchcraft and wizardry, with one goal. Learn enough and beyond to create a path for immortality. A little obsession for a curious little thing.

II. JUDITH WARD

One thing Judy Ward has always possessed is a curious mind. It is a family trait that gives way to another family trait━obsession with ones passion. She has been reading and observing and asking since she was shorter than her mothers office desk. Inquisitive child she was, and curious girl she is━she has latched onto the past and the field of history. Why did it happen? Who did it happen to? Why is it important? How did it change things? Can the effects be seen even now? How did the people live? How were they similar to us? How have we changed from them? What can she learn from them?

But reading about it isn’t enough. It does not satiate her. She needs to live it, to be the primary source, she has to see it, experience it, understand it wholly━so she will. And thus comes the single-minded ambition on traversing through time itself. Maybe figuring out independent time travel will satiate the need for innovation and exploration for this curious mind.

III. PARTNERS IN CRIME

Though surprisingly, not many crimes will be committed in this partnership. You see, these two bring out the best in each other. Albeit these two are intense personalities, their intensity seems to dwindle rather than sharpen—they soften each others jagged corners, ease the tension in their eyes. Suppose its what happens when kindred spirits meet. He knows how to stop her impulsiveness and she knows how to ease his franticness.

Tom knew from the moment he saw her in the restricted section in their first year, saw her focused, widened eyes, the way she would whisper to herself that sounded more like hissing from the outside, and the book she had picked (Advanced transfiguration, Volume III: Threads of reality by Serafina Nott), and knew that she was like him. That she had that purpose to learn, to know, to understand whatever idea her young mind had found most interesting. He needed that singular seven second long insight into the way eleven-year-old Judith Ward chose to spend her afternoon to know that he wanted to be the one. The someone that wouldn’t find him odd, that would maybe talk with him about something other than that stupid quidditch game, or the fucking weather, that he could exist with.

He got what he wanted. Judith Ward had others be friendly enough with her, but she never really got them. She never really got how they could be ambition-less (though when she looks back, she realizes that she and Tom were the only eleven-year-olds that had lifelong ambitions). She never really got why they didn’t scurry to the library to get their hands on whatever new book Madam Moon had brought in. Tom Riddle was a blessing. She latched onto him like she latched onto history━and Tom let her roots grow around him, let her plant him into her little garden of life, let her have him for the rest of their lives.

From that moment onwards, they have never walked alone. The curious little thing and the little historian, partners in crime and life.

𓊈 𓆈 𓊉

 yeah. i don’t know if ANY of this makes sense. but we are soulmates and everything is great haha.

how can we stop expecting to wake up in cr after shifting attempt?

　how to stop expecting to wake up in your cr ,

well . . . you never 'wake up' in your desired reality. you don't arrive. there is no terminal gate, no sudden cut to black followed by credits rolling on a new world. if you're waiting for the crash, you've misunderstood the flight. but that's semantics. anyways.

shifting isn't an event. it's not a rupture, it's not a lottery win, it's not a punishment or miracle. it's continuity. like breathing, like blinking. what happens when you shift is not that you go somewhere else. it's that you stop arguing with where you are. and by the time you notice, the scenery's already changed.

so you don't wake up in your cr because your cr isn't a separate bedroom you break into once you've behaved enough. your cr is the bed you've always been in. your cr is now. it's here. it's this. but you're still trying to see it through the peephole of your old logic. through scarcity and suspense and the habit of believing everything real has to hurt.

the expectation to 'wake up' comes from the same place as superstition. it's a theatre of reward. you're still expecting it to feel deserved. to arrive with trumpets. to be marked by something. you're still trying to prove something to the doorman in your mind who thinks heaven has a guest list.

but your reality doesn't need fanfare. it doesn't need to knock. it's not late. it's not reluctant. it's not waiting on you to be more visual, more perfect, more devotional. you are not an unpaid intern at the church of quantum theory. you're not performing piety for a state change. you're not a myth. you're a chooser.

so . . . stop expecting to wake up. instead, assume you already did. yesterday. last week. two months ago. during lunch. when you put your phone down. when you said 'this is done.' the moment passed already. you missed it because you were squinting for a sign.

anywho. reality doesn't tap you on the shoulder. it really just expects to reflect something you've given. either the belief that you're here or you're there. your thoughts materialise.

𓊈 𓇚 𓊉 . my waiting room, if you even care . . .

&&.

I just think it's funny how fucking overpowered Shanks is

Like he lost his dominant arm at 27 years old

I don't even need to get into the chronic pain that comes with losing a limb, or the balancing problems, especially on a surface that's constantly moving or tilting (ship), especially for doing something physically demanding like fighting

He was already on par with the world's greatest swordsman at the time, and then he lost his arm, and then in less than 10 years he not only learned to use his non dominant hand for everything, he got good enough at it to be so strong and such a threat that he was named an Emperor of the Sea along with three other monsters who: a) all had devil's fruits; b) were all much more experienced; c) were all former members of the Rocks Pirates, a group so strong it took Garp AND Roger working together to take them down; and most importantly d) they didn't have the setback of losing an arm and having to train to fight all over again (assuming he wasn't ambidextrous, and even then considering he still wears his sword on his right side, despite that probably making it a bitch to draw quickly, it seems obvious he at least prefered his left hand).

He's also the only one of the original four Emperors left after all the chaos the Worst Generation brought to the New World.

No wonder Buggy has the king of all inferiority complexes, imagine growing up next to that

A     TRIPTYCH     FOR

THE DEATH OF PRIDE

 𓊈 𓇖 𓊉

             I. The fall of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Ward

It is the year 1950 and the 26th of July when perhaps the leading family of British wizarding aristocracy—certainly the most elite, the most feared, the most traditional—falls apart because of infighting. The thing about these noble families is that they don’t always get along, isn’t it? Well, the Ward’s infamously never got along. They were quite the dynasty, the first children of the first children always having three to four children per generation, which meant cousins uncles aunts that sometimes never even met. They were not closely knit, like you would see the Malfoy’s, or the Black’s, or the Gaunt’s being. Despite this, they were all known for their pride, their almost obsessive passions, their fickle temper, their dramatics, and their powerful magic—but never known for having similar ideals of politics. It was both their differences and their similarities that caused their end.

On the fifth birthday of the heir, the Ward’s—for the first time in two centuries—were all in the same place, at the same time. The ancestral seat of the Ward’s (which was dubbed “Fools March” after an incident an heir of House Ward had with Merlin) had welcomed the weight of the family’s magics and their horrid attitudes gracefully, and was repaid in Ward fashion. It took a simple, misplaced comment from a cousin to the third uncle of the heir for the family to put on their metaphorical suit and armor—choose which side to take and ready their shields and swords (presumably all metaphorical) to fight. Imagine a baroque battle scene painting. Now imagine enraged and crazed wizards and witches instead of knights and stallions, imagine their swords and spears as wands and flashes of green red white blue magic. Imagine burnt tapestries and carpets and drapes. Imagine broken vases and broken stained glass, burnt wooden floors, and caved down ceilings around them.

What happens when a family filled to the brim with magical prowess and uncontrollable force turn on each other? Well, they turn their ancestral seat into ruins, and themselves into corpses.

             II. The raising of Judith Ward

She is not proud of her surname, Judith. Her mother told her she shouldn’t be, so she isn’t. She is a flower birthed by Fool’s March’s soil, the roots of her name in the first first-child of the first Lord Ward. She was planted on foreign soul at the age of five, by the shaky hands of a young mother that was left family-less, determined to make her child better than all of them. So, Judith Ward isn’t proud of her family. She does not enjoy displays of richness and she does not enjoy her mothers tired eyes. She does not enjoy the thought of her destructive family. She is not proud of her bursts of magic, and she is not proud of the way she looks, because her mother gets that sad look when she says ‘you have your grandfathers face’.

Her mother, beautiful like lilies, withered when her home soil got covered by ash and grime. Judith Ward works hard to make her mother proud. She studies well and does well in school. She has muggle friends, and she goes to the cinema to watch muggle movies. She tells her of the funny future-visions she has, to hear a burst of laughter. She finds little trinkets to fill their little London home with. She doesn’t throw tantrums when she doesn’t get what she wants, because she is not proud, and she refuses to be spoiled. She reads books she likes and talks to her mother about them. She pets stray cats and stays away from stray dogs, as her mother is scared of them. She reads the articles her mother writes on the newspaper, even though some words are too long to understand.

Judith Ward is not proud of her surname, because her family was bad. Judy is proud of her little family, her and her mother, because they are good people. She will grow petals and bloom under the careful and gentle watch of her mother.

             III. (Who will you see in her eyes?)

You will see the budding historian Judith Ward, who intends to keep all her findings, analysis, commentary to herself, thank you very much. It is not a matter of pride━her curiosity has driven her to dabble in the dangerous art of time travel, and she simply wishes to not be sentenced to a Dementor’s Kiss before her first kiss.

You will see a passionate (obsessed) daughter, fascinated by ancient civilizations, obscure historical events, and the concept of time passing. Not fascinated by the future, because she sees it. You will see that she finds joy in little things, and that she could find a little bit of soul and have something sentimental to say about many things. You will see that she has bloomed into a beautiful lily, like her mother. You will see that the once-foreign soil she inhabited, she has turned into a garden. You will see that she has strong magic and a stronger heart and a lot of love. You will see that she is kind, that she is not prideful.

 𓊈 𓅪 ╱ 𓇖 𓊉

 𓊈 𓉳 𓊉

i guess this is my introduction for my second hogwarts dr???? there isn't much about me here but this is like. the vibes. the aura. the atmosphere. heir of a fallen house, slytherin, seer, historian, time-traveler, incredibly sentimental. i am weirdly alia atreides-coded in this dr. from dune: messiah . a bit of “vinsmoke” sanji and nico robin sprinkled in. from one piece . idk its really not as dramatic as i made it sound here i just tapped into my 2021-wattpad-ocxcharacter-fanfic-era energy whilst writing.

more may come about this dr. or maybe not! depends completely on my mood! hope you enjoyed reading!!!

x

alex consani is so beautiful i am stealing her face for my smosh dr . you heard me.