#Powerful LED Spotlight

[jcmarchi]

North Korea Demonstrated a New Tank - Technology Org

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/north-korea-demonstrated-a-new-tank-technology-org/

North Korea Demonstrated a New Tank - Technology Org

North Korean leader Kim Jong Un led a military demonstration featuring a new battle tank.

The new tank from North Korea. Image credit: KCNA

This event marked another display of strength from the isolated nation as South Korea and the United States concluded joint drills. The news was reported by the state media KCNA on Thursday that 

According to KCNA, Kim expressed “great satisfaction” with the tank’s performance during its debut display on Wednesday, highlighting its striking power. Technical details about the new tank have not been disclosed.

The event, described as a “training match,” aimed to assess the combat capabilities of tank crews and familiarize them with various tactical missions. The report detailed such statements as how the heavy tanks swiftly maneuvered through challenging combat scenarios, delivering powerful strikes and breaching strong defense lines with ease.

In a photograph released by KCNA, the leader of the secluded state was seen with his head peeking out of a tank, reportedly driving the tank himself.

The mock battle took place as the joint annual drills between South Korea and the U.S., known as the Freedom Shield exercises, were scheduled to conclude on Thursday. These drills, the first since Pyongyang annulled a 2018 inter-Korean military pact aimed at reducing tensions in November, involved a joint live-fire exercise conducted at a training base in the city of Pocheon over the past week, as stated by South Korea’s army.

The live-fire drill featured tanks, armored vehicles, and FA-50 fighter jets, according to a statement from the army. North Korea has consistently condemned such military exercises as rehearsals for war, while Seoul has consistently portrayed them as purely defensive.

Written by Vytautas Valinskas

You can offer your link to a page which is relevant to the topic of this post.

[kabuki-writes]

A Reflection Of Venus

chapter: 1 chapter 2 | 3 | 4

pairing: emperor geta/emperor caracalla x acacius' daughter!reader

summary: For years Acacius was able to keep his precious and only daughter away from the Emperor's eyes. But after his latest victory, he couldn't evade the already inevitable.

warning(s): mention of alcohol consumption | swearing | sexual implications | semi-edited | english is not my first language, faults may occur | please let me know if i missed anything

Note: Reader is the daughter of General Acacius and his wife, which is not Lucilla in this fanfiction.

word count: 3.1k

General Acacius was a hero for the Roman Empire, a sun that was burning brighter with every new victory he won in a new war campaign ordered by Emperor Geta and his twin brother Emperor Caracalla. The reign of the twins was nothing compared to one of their deceased father Emperor Septimius Severus, who was once one of the closest friends and brother-in-arms of Acatius. While Severus fought wars mainly to protect the borders of the already massive Empire, his sons' hunger for expansion became clear from the very first day they inherited the title "Emperor". And general Acacius became their tool in this project. Nothing was too expensive, they backed him with legions, war-ships, the best equipment and supply, and the capable general became an unstoppable force, a soldier of the God Mars himself. But at what cost?

As the years went on, he'd rarely been home, always travelling with his marching soldiers and being on the front line of every battle he fought. And when he came back, he felt sick from all the pomp and gold the Emperor's threw at him, the victory processions through Rome, while the smell of blood still lingered in his nose and the cries of the women and children echoed in his mind. It was one of those days. The sun stood high over the wide street that lead to the Palatin, the sides filled with the cheering crowd - common people, soldiers, slaves, senators, merchants, they all celebrated his victory in a triumphant procession. His marching soldiers were led by Acacius chariot, clothed in the white armor of a victor. His face could've been one to be carved in marble, stoic and upright, facing the great Palatin, where the Emperors would await him.

Geta and Caracalla - the twin-sons of Septimius Severus, Emperors of Rome. They stoof there in golden Armor like sun gods with their golden crowns on top of their short gingerblonde hair. Their unusual pale skin was a testament to their wealth as they could afford to stay out of the sun, which burns especially hot on summer days like this one, and of course on the battlefields in Africa, where Acatius' men had to fight against the rebellious Nubians. They awaited their victor with proud smiles on their lips, while Acacius' procession ended at the footsteps of the Emperor's palace. He walked the marble steps towards them, his long cloak moved in tact with his walk. He didn't look forward to see the faces of Rome's tyrants again, but they hadno idea.

Instead, he greeted them as he was used to. His hand on his chest, speaking the words.

"I greet you, my Emperors. Nubia is no more. I present a new victory to you, to the realm and to the Roman people."

With a proud look on their faces and a wide smile, the twins stepped forward. Emperor Geta hold the laurel wreath of victory in his hands and places it on top of Acacius' greying hair.

"And Rome rewards it's heroes with gratitude and admiration. We bow to your victories, General Acacius."

With those words, he offered him to turn around and face the celebrating crowd. Geta and Caracalla took their places at his side, giving him a moment of spotlight, applauded by the people, while they did benefit from it as well. Acatius was their general, their armored knight. Every victory he presented was another triumph for their own reign and power. After the earned celebration in front of the common folk, the Emperors and Acacius retreated inside, where servants quickly served them wine for a toast.

"Another great victory, you never disappoint us, dear Acatius," Geta expressed and hold his glass up for a toast, his brother Caracalla following the gesture. "To the glory of the Roman Empire".

"To the glory of your reign", Acacius lied and took a sip from his glass, trying to numb himself a bit with the taste of the alcohol. How he hated conversations with both of them.

" But don't get too comfy here, my brother and i were already discussing another campaign soon. You'll get everything you need, just tell us how many soldiers and ships and it will be granted," Geta explained, which left a bitter taste in Acacius mouth. His jaw clenched for a moment, while he tried everything not to show his distaste about another war campaign.

"Please forgive me, my Emperor, but isn't the realm big enough already? Rome has already difficulties to feed the people. Further expansion would-"

"They can eat war", Emperor Caracalla threw in with an almost diabotical grin, while Acacius got a warning eye from Geta. It was clear that his words weren't the ones both wanted to hear right now.

"Don't worry about things like that, Acacius. You're a military general, your job is to win battles - nothing more. Do you understand?"

"I understand," he answered, even though he hated to hear that he was reduced to this. He'd experienced war and peace alike and therefore he knew about the dangers of continuing this madness. Moments like this really let him question if those maniacs were of the same blood as Septimius Severus.

"But you're right, you've earned yourself at least a bit of rest - one or two weeks. Don't worry, we've taken care about the wellbeing of your family. They got everything they needed and more in our attempt to show our gratitude for your service to the throne. Speaking of which.... we expect you to join us for a great feast tonight - here in the palace. A party to celebrate your victory, it is accompanied by a couple of fights in the arena tomorrow," Geta explained joyfully, while Acatius tried to keep his mask up.

"I am incredibly honored, but would prefer to spend time with family after being away for such a long time."

"The Emperors show you their gratitude and you're insulting us. We expect you to come and you will come", Caracalla hissed with a sudden shift of tone, his eyes staring at Acacius in clear anger, while his brother placed his hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. But his staring eyes were warning Acatius once again.

"Of course, we don't just invite you, but your whole family. Bring your wife and... you have a daughter, if i'm not mistaken? We haven't had the pleasure of getting to know her yet, since you never brought her to any festivities. I am sure she will be delighted, if you don't plan on hiding her again."

Acacius stood there in silence, a reaction that made Caracalla burst out into laughter as if he'd just heard the funniest joke from his brother. The respected general didn't even look at him, why should he. Standing here in front of them should've been an honor, yet it felt like a disgrace. They were nothing but spoiled kids with the power of an empire in their hands. And now they even forced him to reveal his dear daughter to them. Something he tried to avoid for too long, knowing fully well about the debauchery and excessiveness of Geta and Caracalla.

"We're waiting for an answer, Acacius?", Caracalla purred with a wide grin on his pale face, revealing his gold tooth.

"It will be an honor to be your guest... together with my daughter."

_____________________________________________

You watched the face of your father sunken away in his thoughts, as you made made your way to the palace in a palanquin carried by a couple of slaves and protected by soldiers. The city was painted in darkness which made the palace seem like a temple with all the lights that welcomed you. It was an exciting moment for an upper-class lady to be a guest at the palace, especially for you, a woman that usually stayed away from the most parties. Not because you wanted to, but because it was an order from your father. You obeyed, yet it bothered you, even more when you'd reached the age of a young woman - the age in which it was expected from you to find a proper husband.

"Why are you so worried, father?", you finally managed to get off your lips, pulling Acacius out of the battle he fought in his head. He couldn't just tell you that he despised all of this and especially the Emperors himself as he couldn't be sure if someone outside this palanquin could hear him. So he simply took your hand and placed a soft and caring kiss on the ring that had been a present for your last name day.

"I guess I'm rather tired than worried. The parties in the palace are always quite excessive, music, dances, feasts... i just came back from the desert and now i have to enjoy all those things", he sighed and looked at you. "And i don't want to stay too long, especially not till the orgy starts. The servants will come and bring us home before that." And even you knew he would rather go and murder Dyonisos himself than allowing his daughter to stay and witness this.

All those words and yet you knew it wasn't everything.

"I'm glad that you take me with you this time. I've only known the imperial palace from afar," you confessed, while you straightened the long, blue dress you wore. It was decorated with all sorts of silver embroidery and jewelry, encapturing the stars and moon. Your long hair was styled by your servant Yanna into a high braid and finalized with a silver diadem. For the first time you really got the chance to make yourself so presentable that you almost felt like a princess. In the end, you were about to meet the Emperors which made it important to look like the woman you were - the daughter of a general. And you also presented his household tonight, because your mother felt sick tonight. She often suffered from migraine, which kept her a prisoner for days sometimes.

"You really look beautiful", your father said to you, it was honest, but there was a hint of worry in his eyes, which you still couldn't grasp. But there was no chance to take this conversation further as the palanquin stopped. Acacius got out first to help you out. He knew the way as it wasn't the first time for him to attent an official ceremony or party here. Through a long corridor you reached a large room with with an open access to the garden terrace facing the beautiful gardens. It was packed with people from the Roman upper-class, wealthy merchants, politicians and military officers, who were accompanied by their wives, sons and daughters. While they chatted and feasted on the large selection of delicious looking food, a group of musicians played their melodies to which professional dancers moved their bodies.

All those private parties at the homes of your friends seemed to vanish straight from your mind, nothing could be compared to what you were seeing now. It nearly took your breath away, while two royals were watching you from the other side of the room.

_____________________________________________

Geta and Caracalla were sitting on a higher ground, which was highly decorated with two golden chaise longues, cushions and velvet drapes. They were accompanied by a selected group of slaves, women and men, who were assigned to bring them anything they wanted, to do anything they wanted.

While Geta was in in a conversation with one of the senators, which clearly bored him according to his facial expressions, it was Caracalla, who noticed the new guest first, while he fed his little monkey Dondus a grape.

"Such a shame that he hid his daughter for so long. She is a gorgeous looking bird, don't you think? ", he whispered to his brother with a mischievous grin, patting his arm so that he would turn his attention to Acacius and you. Geta's eyes quickly went to you, admiring the way your dress hugged the shape of your curves.

"The gods must've sent us Venus herself to honor us with her presence," Geta answered, while an unreadable smile played on his lips. „No wonder our dear General is so protective of her. Is she already promised to someone?“

„Why do you ask me!?��� Caracalla snapped back, as if his brother didn���t know that he had a lot of spies around the city, who delivered him the newest gossip from the streets of Rome. With an annoyed eye roll, he leaned forward, adjusting the golden laurel wreath on his head. „No, she is a blank parchment. Probably untouched too.“

Geta still watched you with an intense interest as if you were a rare diamond, he needed to claim. But he was not the only one in this room, because Caracalla stared at his brother, noticing the way he looked at you. There it was again, the old melody. Whenever he wanted something, Geta wanted it too. They already shared the title of Emperors, their wealth, their whores… It was already something that cooked in him for a long time. But now he had an eye on you and wasn't happy about the fact that Geta might try to get you too.

Before he could even bring this thought to an end, his twin brother Geta already stood up from his chaise lounge and made his way through the crowd, the direction was clear. Caracalla's nose twitched in a mixture of nervousness and anger, and he got up quickly as well, not as gracefully as he wanted to, but he didn’t care. He had to tame the inner urge to backstab his brother before he could even reach you.

_____________________________________________

You still stood at the side of your father sipping on your first goblet of fine wine, while your eyes went over all the different guests and the excessive decor. Your father was sunken in a conversation with another general, Marcus Galbanus, an old friend and brother-in-arms of Acacius. But their conversation quickly stopped as soon as the Emperors approached them. Both your father and Marcus Galbanus lowered their heads and greeted them according to the etiquette, while you curtsied deep. This was the very first time you got the chance to meet the Emperor's of Rome Caracalla and Geta. And given the importance of those two figures, you even felt a little nervous.

"We almost feared you wouldn't show up to your own party, Acacius. But we're happy you made your way here... we already heard that your dear wife lays sick. Please, send her our best wishes. Nonetheless we would be delighted if you could introduce us to your company tonight", Geta demanded in a playful tone, knowing how much Acacius had tried to delay this. Caracalla stood at his side, his staring blue eyes drilled themselves into your appearence. Even though he was a man that had tasted a lot of men and women, one even more sensual than the other, your whole appearence, your face, your lips, your smile, everything - you reached a sentience in his mind that could only be gifted by the gods. The mere thought of having you infected his brain like a curse.

You could sense the tension that raised in your father as if everything in him resisted the situation. Yet he placed his hand softly on your shoulder and did as they wished. "This is my daughter, y/n..."

"I'm honoured to meet the Emperors of Rome", you said in a soft voice, earning you an appreciating smile by Geta and an unreadable grin of Caracalla.

"Oh the pleasure is on our side, my dearest. How do you like this Ceremony in honor of your father's victories?", Geta asked. But before you could even answer, his brother added, while he took another sip of his wine "Your father is a Roman hero through and through, isn't it right Acacius?" His tone had something else in it, almost as if it was some kind of mistrust. But you needed to ignore the irritation you felt and simply nodded.

"It is breathtaking. I've never witnessed something like this and it makes me incredible proud to see the gratitute he earned himself through the love he has for Rome and its people," you answered, trying to remind the Emperor's of Acacius loyality, which was undoubtful.

"Then you'll enjoy the ceremony in the arena tomorrow as well, i'm sure. Please, we invite your father and you to be our guests."

"I don't think that such entertainment is suited for a young woman of her status," your father suddenly interfered in a calm yet set tone, only earning the laugh of Caracalla. "Let your daughter decide for herself, General."

The atmosphere shifted to an unspoken intensity. You could sense your father's worries and given all what you've heard from the colosseum, you didn't really think of it as something worth to witness. Seeing people die in such a terrible way only for the pleasures of the masses seemed like a farce. Acacius always called it the most needless form of brutality amongst humans, he despised this himself and therefore avoided going into the arena whenever he could. But you also read the eyes of Geta and his brother, who waited for your answer and would not accept a simple 'No'.

"It would be an honour," you answered, and Geta leaned forward a bit, which made your father's jaw clench in anger. Not because of your answer, he was aware that a choice was not existing, when facing an Emperor, but because the way the twins looked at you as if you were a price they could simply claim. But you were a smart girl and definitely not naive, so he fully relied on that.

"So this is a 'Yes'?", Geta asked again and you looked him straight in the eyes, not backing off. "Yes."

"Excellent!", Caracalla shouted and clapped into his hands. "We'll have a lot of fun tomorrow."

The corners of Geta's mouth twitched to a smile and he nodded in response to his twin. Yet he hid his displeasure of having him as a rival in this little game. It was clear that Caracalla had layed his eyes on you too, but he won't allow him to simply take and fuck you like you were a common whore. Maybe you could've potential for something more and strenghten his position as well as his popularity. Because both Emperors were still unmarried - and it was expected from them that this would change sooner or later.

[aamircoeur]

just distressed (not a damsel) - ultraman, ken sato.

getting familiar with your robot-like saviour after his nth time of saving your life.

PART 2.

cw: brief mention of blood. sfw, female reader. UNEDITED

"hello again, little ma'am." the huge character looked down on you, his glowing eyes acting as a spotlight as he held you on his palms. a purple-colored, lizard-like kaiju had destroyed the top of the apartment building that you were staying at, and luckily, ultraman was there to save you.

only for, like, the sixth time this month.

"not causing trouble again, are you?" ultraman teased, and you just rolled your eyes, making the being laugh.

the first time was when you were on your first (and after that incident, also the last) date with a guy you met at a bar. he took you to sumida river for some sight-seeing, and a kaiju appeared from underneath the waters, targeting those who were at the bridge. out of fright, the people screamed and scattered like ants, including your date who left you to flee for his own safety.

upset, you took a moment to process the happenings around you while you stared at the back of the guy as he ran. without noticing, the kaiju creeped from behind you in an attempt to catch you off-guard and eat you for its lunch (you assumed). fortunately, ultraman was there in the nick of time, blasting the kaiju with his powers that came from the moon or something, you thought. you really didn't understand how he or his powers worked, and you really couldn't bother learning either.

being the only person to stay on the bridge, ultraman approached you after sending the kaiju back to where it emerged from. "uhm, hi," he said, looking down on you as he was wiping debris off of his shoulder. "you okay?" he tilted his head.

"yes, i am. thank you!" you shouted at him, hands cupped to both sides of your cheeks.

he nodded. "okay, get home safe, little ma'am." he said before walking away. you looked at him as he made his way through the water. you thought about the weird nickname and shrugged, thinking that everyone must be little to him when he's that big.

upon arriving home at your apartment, you saw a series of messages of apologies and excuses from the guy you went on a date with. you scoffed and blocked him without responding.

the second time that you were saved by ultraman was when you unfortunately got in the crossfire between him and a kaiju that looked like a dinosaur. you were underneath a separated car door after trying to run to safety, your left leg and forehead dripping with blood, and you were too light-headed from the blood loss to help yourself out of your current position.

after the shaking of the ground has stopped, assuming that the battle has ended, you opened your eyes only to reveal that everything was blurry. an elderly woman was crouched in front of you, slightly tapping your face before wiping the blood off of your forehead. "oh, you poor thing," she said. a tear made its way across your cheek, finally feeling the pain after the numbness had faded away. "you'll be okay," the woman said before standing up and walking into the middle of the street, and it was the last thing you saw before passing out.

the elderly woman had called for ultraman, waving her arms out as high as she could. seeing her from a few streets over, ultraman rushed to her, careful with his steps to avoid stepping on a car. "hello! is something the matter?" ultraman greeted.

"here, here!" the woman called and led her to where you were. shocked, ultraman knelt down and lifted the car door, placing it down on the sidewalk before scooping you up into his palms. "poor girl has been bleeding since i saw her." she added, her hands cupped together, worriedness heard in her voice. "if you rush, we might save her!" she exclaimed.

ultraman nodded and stood up on his feet, slowly moving covering you with his other hand. "thank you, madame. please, go home to where you'll be safe." he said before flying off.

hearing a constant beep woke you up from the hospital bed that you stayed in. you squinted your eyes as you adjusted to the light on the ceiling, you then saw your right leg with a cast. groaning, you took a deep breath before looking around more. there was a desk beside you with a folded piece of paper.

you reached for it and unfolded it, and there was a note in blue ink that said, "the bills have been covered. please, get well soon."

the third time of being saved by ultraman was when a kaiju attack has been reported near you once again and ultraman took you to safety via his palm because you couldn't walk properly with your cast.

by the fourth time, you simply greeted the character with a simple hello despite having yet another kaiju attack near you. ultraman greeted you back, laughing after realizing that he was getting used to seeing you when there's a kaiju attack and saying, "hello, little ma'am."

for the fifth time, you were in a restaurant for dinner that had unfortunately caught on fire because of a flame-spitting kaiju. although you had the opportunity to leave early the moment smoke was seen to guarantee your safety, you helped every person you could to leave the restaurant instead before helping the staff control the growing fire.

the fire department in the city was handling the fire in a hospital which led to their lateness in handling the one in the restaurant you were staying at. fortunately, the five million meters tall (your exaggeration) superhero was there, helping the humans put out the fire and successfully doing so.

as the staff were being interviewed by news reporters, you went on your way to a different restaurant instead to continue your dinner. a few streets down from where the restaurant was, you walked downtown to where the road was quiet and empty, and you just casually bumped into ultraman.

by casually, you meant that he almost stepped on you after not looking before taking a sharp turn. "woah there!" the huge being exclaimed, his robotic voice echoing throughout the evening. you had your hands in the pockets of your jacket as you looked up at him.

"wait, i know you." he said before going down on his knees and lowering his body to take a better look at you. "little ma'am!" he exclaimed, his bright eyes widening.

you squinted your eyes at the brightness and smiled sheepishly. "hey, ultraman."

ultraman sat up and held out his palm for you, which you accepted. you stepped on his finger before making your way towards his palm, and he then lifted you up before holding you in front of him as he looked at you.

"what brings you here?" you asked, crossing your legs on his palm, making yourself comfortable.

he let out a small chuckle at how used you were to stay on his palms. "uh, fire, in the uptown," he explained. your eyes widened as your eyebrows lifted. "woah, were you there?" he asked, worried.

you nodded. "yeah, i was supposed to have dinner but then the ceiling started burning. i tried to help some elderly people to head outside." you explained.

ultraman smiled down at you, happiness obvious in his robotic facial expression. "you've helped greatly." he said.

you laughed and swatted your hands in front of him. "nah, the cook and waitresses helped control the fire before you got there." you said.

"no way," ultraman shook his head. "don't undermine what you've done, because you've done great. i never would've dumped the bucket of water if i had known that there were people inside, and it would have been hard for me to help them out with my big size." he said. "really, thank you for the help."

you just smiled at him and scoffed playfully. "just another day for a super human," you joked.

you and him shared a laugh and continued your talk. "so, what're you gonna do now?" he asked you, now leaning on the office building behind him as he got more comfortable throughout the conversation.

"ah, i wanted to continue my dinner, but there's this big bug that just wouldn't stop pestering me," you joked, referring to him which made him drop his jaw playfully as if he was offended.

the two of you laughed. "what about you?" you asked.

ultraman tilted his head to the side and rested it on his shoulder. "oh, man, i am beat. i might nap for weeks after tonight, so i'm leaving the city-saving to the new superhero called "little lady". ever heard of her?" ultraman said.

"nah, never. she sounds cool though, probably pretty with big muscles, i assume?" you rode along with his joke, making him laugh.

"oh, yeah, definitely. really pretty thing," he said casually.

your laughter halted upon hearing what he said, making your cheeks and ears flush at the compliment. when he finally realized the words that came out of his mouth, ultraman fixed his posture and stuttered an excuse. you laughed and patted his palm. "don't worry, hypnotizing people to make 'em think i'm good-looking is part of my one hundred and three superpowers."

ultraman let out a hearty laugh at this, making your stomach warm by hearing it. "yeah? better get started to knowing each one."

you smiled at him and took a deep breath. your conversation had finally stopped, the two of you thinking about your own things. after a few more small talk, ultraman had decided to call it a night to let his body rest after the fight with the kaiju. you agreed and he let you down from his palm before standing up to his height that surpassed the building's.

"also, if you want dinner, tonkatsu tonki is the place to go." he said before waving off and flying off.

and the sixth time was now. "hey." you greeted, a tired expression visible on your face.

"always in the centre of the tornado, huh, little ma'am?" he said as he had you in his palms once more, walking you towards the evacuation center.

"lucky me," you sarcastically said.

"lucky you, my personal damsel in distress." he echoed you jokingly.

you rolled your eyes.

taglist: @ttulipwritezz @c-losur3 @saeyari @luvly-writer

[anna-scribbles]

if the agrestes weren't rich i think that gabriel would be the normal one. like gabe's problem is that he stopped running into natural limits due to absurd wealth and his obsessive nature led him to develop some kind of god complex where he won't accept that anything is out of his control. I think that if gabe was broke again and just simply couldn't afford to go on an international goose chase for ancient magic artifacts of untold power, if he had to work a 9-5 to live and couldn't just disappear into his basement lair to commit domestic terrorism and say evil monologues to himself, then he would be way more normal. he'd just be some guy. he might even let himself have a mowhawk again. but I think that emilie would be way LESS normal if they weren't rich. like emilie needs so many people to be obsessed with her so much all the time in order for her to function. and gabe would still have his toxic codependent obsession with her, sure, but that wouldn't be nearly enough. emilie has to be at the center of the world's spotlight at all times because she doesn't know how to exist if she's not performing. anyway all this to say I am so certain that if the agrestes were not disgustingly wealthy, emilie agreste would one million percent be running a massive family vlogger youtube channel

[seriallover]

Why certain people capture the spotlight?⭐️

1. The luminaries, the Sun and Moon naturally draw attention in a birth chart. People with strong Sun or Moon placements tend to light up any room they enter, effortlessly standing out.

Just like everyone loves capturing the beauty of a sunrise or the glow of a full moon, those with these placements have a magnetic energy that people can’t help but notice.

It’s almost like they’re always in the spotlight, which is why they often feel the need to look their best.☀️🌕

Beyoncé, Purva Phalguni Sun, Chitra Lagna and Venus.

Michael Jackson, Magha Sun and Shatabhisha Lagna.

Bella Hadid, Purva Phalguni Moon and Lagna.

There's not much to say about Beyoncé and Michael that isn't already well-known—they're icons in their own right, the biggest stars of our time. Bella Hadid has become the most photographed model off-duty and in 2022, she was named Model of the Year.

Gia Carangi, often hailed as the first true supermodel, paved the way for all the other supermodels that followed. She had a Shravana Sun and Lagnesh, with Hasta as her Lagna and a Shatabhisha Moon.

Britney Spears, Shravana Moon, was one of the most photographed stars for a while. The crazy amount of media attention even led to harassment and really affected her mental health.

Gisele Bündchen, Pushya Sun and Purva Phalguni Lagna, the only "Ubermodel"-that means being more than a supermodel.

Lauren Hutton, Pushya Moon and Lagna, holds the record for the most Vogue covers—26 in total.

I previously explored about how lunar-dominant people often achieve significant success on social media.

2. Chitra Nakshatra, known as the "Star of Opportunity," carries the Shakti of "accumulating merit." The word "Chitra" translates to "wonderful" and "pleasing to look at," as well as "illusion."

The deity of this nakshatra is Tvastar, the celestial architect who designed the universe. The symbol of Chitra is the "pearl" or "bright jewel," symbolizing beauty and uniqueness.💎💍

"Chitra" also means "picture," so individuals with this nakshatra are often naturally photogenic. 📸Tvastar, as the creator of Maya (illusion), grants those under Chitra the ability to craft captivating personas, making them talented models, photographers, actors, and successful on social media.

Kim Kardashian, Chitra Sun, built a career centered on her image. As one of the first influencers, she's become one of the most prominent and influential figures on social media. In 2015, she released “Selfish”, a book featuring a collection of her selfies.

Cindy Kimberly, Chitra Moon and Shravana Lagna, shot to fame because of her striking beauty. Her big break came when Justin Bieber posted about her on his Instagram. Now, she’s a major beauty influencer and a well-known model.

Anna Nicole Smith, Chitra Sun and Hasta Moon, made a name for herself as a model, completely based on her image. She was once one of the most photographed women in the world, and photographers loved working with her, often saying she was one of the easiest and most exciting people to capture on camera.

The thing with Chitra individuals is that, because of Tvastar, the celestial craftsman, their features often become iconic. For instance, Kim drew the attention to the BBL, Cindy’s nose has become a major inspiration for many women, and Anna Nicole brought attention back to curvy bodies at a time when the "heroin chic" look was in vogue, reminiscent of Marilyn Monroe's era.

3. Dhanishtha🌟 Shakti is "power to give abundance and fame," meaning "the most famous," "the most heard of." This nakshatra is recurring in the charts of people who usually marry famous individuals, making them well-known as well, often attracting more attention than their partner.

Princess Diana, Dhanishtha Moon and Magha Lagnesh, was the most photographed woman in the world, holding the record for the most sold-out paparazzi pictures, including one that sold for 6 million dollars.

Marilyn Monroe, Rohini Sun, Dhanishtha Moon, and Ashlesha Lagna, was also one of the most photographed women of her time.

4. Shatabhisha, meaning "hundred stars" and represented by a veiled star and an empty circle, is a nakshatra ruled by Rahu. ⭕️

This nakshatra is associated with illusion, the power to effect radical change, innovation, the foreign, esoteric influences, and trends. The empty circle can also symbolize the idea of a cult or community, like the Navy for Rihanna.

Rihanna, Shatabhisha Sun, stands out as one of the most influential artists and fashion icons. She has consistently set trends in the fashion world, with her style serving as an inspiration to many. Recently, her maternity looks have redefined how celebrities approach their appearance during pregnancy, bringing a stylish twist to the norm.

Demi Moore, Lagnesh in Shravana and Jupiter in Shatabhisha in the first house, set a trend for nude pregnancy photoshoots. At the time, this was quite controversial, but it has since become a common practice not just among celebrities, but also for non-celebrity women.

Elizabeth Taylor, Sun in Shatabhisha, was also a major target for paparazzi. George Hamilton once remarked:

"I remember when the word 'paparazzi' came along, and it just meant a bunch of guys who were all photographers looking for Elizabeth Taylor. Desperately looking for Elizabeth Taylor! And that was the beginning of paparazzi. They were not going for glamour anymore. They were going for the destruction of glamour."

[razrbladekiss]

MAPLE HAZEL | Joel Miller — Part Two

SUMMARY: another day, another visit to joel’s little coffee shop. he’s as miserable as ever, and you’re probably the only person brave enough to want to spend time with joel outside of his work.

PAIRING: no outbreak!joel miller x afab!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.5k , i’m afraid this is v. short. </3

WARNINGS: fluff. angst. our luke danes-y joel is having a hard time trying to mentally confront his feelings. you’re just as annoying and oblivious to it all as always. mentions of food consumption. reader refers to her parents verrrrrry brief. mentions of reader’s hair blowing into her face, but otherwise nothing to note.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Joel’s back is flush to the counter when you amble through the door this morning, hair strewn across your face, strands set into sticky peach gloss. A few strong gusts of wind—and a stupid confidence in your locks to stay in place—has led you into this precarious position.

Typical. On a morning where you’d like to feel good about yourself, you’re suddenly left feeling like hot garbage.

“Coffee. Now.” Guttural and bone-tired, you hurl at him. But he doesn’t move. His eyes affixed to the chalkboard above the strategically placed syrup station, arms folded over. You’re lucky if he’s even heard you for his attention is wholly deployed to the new menu that he’s spent the better part of thirty minutes creating.

You trudge—cold and dishevelled—through the cafe, feeling eyes on your back. The woman whose face, outfit, and attitude is always put together, is currently struggling through her morning no thanks to the glorious October weather. And the fact that last night’s date went to absolute shit is no help to you today, either.

“Joel.” Exhausted from the day already—despite it barely pushing eight twenty—you squeak. He grunts in response, pointing to the coffee pot that’d just finished brewing as he awaited your inevitable appearance at his door.

Still, he doesn’t move. So you take it upon yourself to shift from one side of the counter, to the other—dropping your purse on it as you do so. It’s weird, being here. Being in Joel’s territory. It gives you a random power trip, more than anything.

But that’s short lived when you realize that your favorite pink polka-dot mug is too high on the shelf—and Miller is too enamoured with whatever it is that he’s doing—so you settle for the less appealing yellow butterfly one, and begin to pour in the liquid that’s definitely comparable to black tar heroin.

You take a swig, before you’re traipsing away from the carafe that you��ve been so gratefully acquainted with.

“I’m so over today already.” You moan, walking over to your seat. You’d have liked to have been sipping on a fresh maple hazel latte today, but you’ll take what you can get so long as you’re not having to actually make it yourself.

You lean over the counter—zoning in on the miniature cake-case—and lift one of those beautifully round cinnamon rolls. You take a bite, and all seems to be right in the world. Aside from the man whose bun you’ve just stolen.

“Joel, are you even lucid right now?”

“I am.” He mumbles, wondering whether the specials should be placed before or after the main menu. It’s a predicament he didn’t think he’d be faced with at this time on a Friday morning. But here he is.

“Whatcha doin’?” A little bit intrigued—because Joel has never struck you as a perfectionist—you ask. He doesn’t respond straight away, and you don’t mind because you’re raking your fingers through tangled strands, wondering why you never carry a hairbrush with you anymore. You’re also munching on your illegal cinnamon roll.

“Just tryin’ to make this stupid place look a little better.” He exhales a deep, exaggerated breath. Joel’s line of sight meets yours when he swivels around, a wonky smile pulling at your lips and a sheen of sticky buttercream icing twinkling beneath yellow spotlights.

He takes you all in. The black dress that you’re donning, your favorite double-breasted woolen coat—that you pull out of your wardrobe each fall—the collection of bracelets decorating your wrists. You’re a marvel, despite feeling less than adequate. A different kind of beauty.

Joel bites back any feelings, and blinks at you.

“Did you just take that cinnamon roll without paying?”

You nod, swallowing down the last mouthful, followed by a long sip of coffee. “I did. And I’d do it again.”

Yeah. He thought as much.

“The specials board looks good.” Striving to change the subject, you tell him. You look up at it, impressed by his handwriting and ability to draw little pumpkins and maple leaves. It’s sweet. “Why’d you change it?”

He glances at it with you, noticing too many imperfections. He sighs.

“Was boring me, the old one. But now…”

“Now this one isn’t up to scratch either?” You pose, setting your lips into a straight line. “But I think it looks great. And I come in here every single day, so I think that I’m qualified to say that.”

Joel chuckles. He supposes that you’re right. He also supposes that you need another refill.

“How’d last night go?” Almost as if he doesn’t want to know the answer, he asks. All the while pouring enough coffee into the mug to drown a small town. “Was Costco guy a hit?”

You groan. Dramatically. Joel grimaces.

“I take that to mean no, he wasn’t.”

Wordlessly, you nod. You take a long, drawn out pull of your coffee. Again. And Joel checks you out. Again.

The apples of your cheeks appear to be slightly more subdued, now. No longer blazing red. And your smile—despite faltering at the mention of your date—is as bright, and toothy as ever.

She’s so beautiful.

I wonder whether or not he was a jerkoff.

Soft spoken, Joel asks about Marcus for the last time when you swirl the remnants of coffee about in the mug. He’s curious. Maybe a bit too much.

“Ugh, I don’t even know what to say.” Slightly depressed—completely unlike you—you start. “It was so crappy, Joel. I had high hopes, but he was just so…eh.”

“Eh?”

“Yeah. Eh.”

“Meaning?”

“Boring. Irritating. A literal life-sucking, soul-destroying, personality vacuum.” Blunt, you tell him. “I’d rather sit and watch an entire room of paint dry, than have to spend another waking minute listening to him ramble on about his vapid life.”

Plump lips contort—against his better judgement—into a little smirk. Satisfied, perhaps. Content with the fact that your date—the one that you unintentionally rubbed into his face—went so awfully bad, you don’t even want to talk about him.

Very, very satisfied.

“But my lunch with Maria was great.” Starting to smile again, you explain. “She told me that she and Tommy are heading to Cancun next summer. And that they’re hoping to start trying for a baby—“

Joel grimaces. He hates this.

So. Much.

“Come on, it’ll be cute. Uncle Joel.”

He stares at you, a few loose curls poking out from above the backstrap of his hat makes it almost impossible to take him seriously.

“I’d rather not think about my brother and his wife trying for a baby.”

Your eyes roll. “Grow up, you prude.”

Joel’s hands fuse to his hips, a light sheen of sweat coating the skin of his forehead. He can’t tell if it’s because he’s hot, or starting to get annoyed.

“How is that me being a prude? I just don’t wanna think ‘bout my brother having—“

“Enough.” Warning—though fighting a giggle—you say. “I can’t believe that when I say that you’re brother is trying for a baby, you automatically envision Tommy having sex. That is not normal.”

He supposes that you’re right, but still. The mental image haunts him.

Maybe it’s just a girl thing, to think of that so positively. Like it’s something to share with the entire world. But to him—a guy—it’s the most inconceivable thing.

Perhaps it is a little bit prudish.

“Moving swiftly on…” Hands placed gently against the newspaper left at the spot to your right, you make eye contact with him again. “Maria said she’d cover tomorrow night.”

Joel says your name, letting his head tilt back a little bit. He seems annoyed at you for going behind his back like this. You can’t find it inside yourself to care, though.

“She said she’ll be happy to. ‘Cus you never go out, and have no friends, and no social life, and—“

“I get it.” His baritone is low as he growls. It’s almost primal. It’s actually a little bit seductive, you feel.

Despite being handsome—almost painfully so—you’ve never thought about him like that. It’s never once crossed your mind to harbor these feelings about your friend, but that has completely unintentionally awakened something inside of your already chaotic—much too busy—brain. And your vagina.

You feel very Bridget Jones-y, now. In a strange position, but wholly comfortable with the fact that you’re stuck here. In fact, you don’t hate the thought of pushing some more.

“And considering that you never get laid, neither, I said that I’ll be happy to help out.”

Joel’s dick twitches. His face falls.

“With setting you up, of course.” You finish, watching fifty different emotions flit over his hardened features. One of which being complete unadultered fury.

Fury for the fact that, maybe, you’ve teased a little too close to home. and getting to grips with being single stings. Or fury because he wants you, and you’re trying to push him onto another body.

Regardless, Joel looks pissed.

And so, with that, you take the morning paper, and stuff it into your little purse. He watches intently, and the little adjustment to your panties through your dress absolutely does not go unnoticed as you stand to attention beside the barstool.

Your coat is being shrugged on in a heartbeat.

“I’ve gotta shoot. My parents are coming to stay with me Monday for a few nights, and I needa stock up on tea leaves, fresh linens, and enough red wine to get so drunk that perhaps I’ll be able to tolerate an hour with my mother.”

Joel forces a laugh.

“See ‘ya tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” He watches you leave—like each day before this one—and smirks. “See ‘ya tomorrow. Maybe.”

Your head whips around as you get to the door, eyebrows fused together. With eyes squinting, you point at him. “Thin. Ice.”

The next evening rolls around faster than what you might’ve liked, and is considerably colder than before. A black scarf wrapped around your neck really tampers with the vibe of your very put-together outfit for movie night.

But you suppose that if you were to leave that at home, then you’d absolutely die of frostbite. And then the question of who’d annoy Joel if I was six feet under? rattles around your head. And you can’t possibly carry on with the prospect of death.

So the scarf stays on. And so does the matching hat.

“You look like one of the snowmen that the kids build on the green.” Is what he greets you with when you enter the coffee house. Neck and chin swathed in faux cashmere.

“Very funny.” You mumble, pulling down fabric to reveal your perfectly plush lips. “Let’s go. I’m starving, and it’s cold.”

“Don’t forget your coal ‘n carrot.” Maria jokes from behind the counter, and Tommy is almost doubled over laughing at his wife.

They’re so cute together. It makes you sick.

“Don’t poke the bear.” Joel murmurs to his brother. “I’ve gotta spend the evening with it, and I’d really rather my head stay intact—“

“I can hear you.”

Joel glances over his shoulder shrugging on his denim jacket with the white borg trim, and stifles a laugh at the sight of you; completely clothed from your cheeks down. It’s adorable.

“Sorry.” Murmuring again, he says. He gestures for you to go out first, before he’s turning to his brother and Maria, mouthing a quick thank you.

She simply smiles in response, and turns to her husband when the two of you leave the building.

“He’s totally into her.”

“Oh, no doubt about it.” Tommy replies. “Just hope he’s not too chicken shit to do anything ‘bout it.”

She agrees with a soft hum, making tracks to a table of new customers to take their orders.

Per Joel’s request, the two of you grab a burger from a very—very—greasy joint a few blocks away from the movie theatre, and you find it being one of the best you’ve ever had in your life.

Piled to the absolute high-heavens, it’s safe to say that you’d never seen such a creation before. Cheese, bacon, lettuce, tomato—a boat-load of pickles—and, like, six onion rings, had that monster very deserving of its title of gut-buster.

But the way that you absolutely mangled that thing had Joel way more impressed. He’d only ever watched you devour cinnamon rolls and the odd stack of pancakes. This was like a fever dream.

And the fact that you then decided on grabbing a purse-full of snacks to take into the screening of Beetlejuice with you, has you very deserving of a few freebies from his humble cafe.

“That movie never fails to make me smile.” You say as the two of you walk—arm in arm—back into the cold, dreary night. “But it always begs the question; if the Maitland’s died by drowning, then why aren’t they wet throughout the movie?”

Joel laughs and shrugs, finding himself tightening the grip that his arm has on yours. Neither of you mind.

“I just think that Keaton plays a demon super well—“

“Don’t call him that.” You defend. “I mean, I know that he technically is one, but still. He’s a stand up guy.”

“He’s a total jerk—“

“Joel.” You whine. He’s one of your favorite fictional characters, and it’s killing you to hear this slander. “He’s my—he’s my boy. I love him.”

He blinks at you. His respect for you is dwindling, mainly because you’re essentially saying that Keaton’s portrayal of a green-haired gremlin is better than his version of Batman.

Blasphemy.

“He’s hot.” You say after a few moments of silence, feeling your cheeks heat at the confession. “In a dilf-y way. I think.”

Two brown eyes almost bulge out of Joel’s head, and he literally cannot help the laugh that bubbles from the fissures of his throat. You are very troubled.

“That’s concerning.”

“The fact that I like older men is concerning to you?”

His heart thumps. He’s not sure why, but it does. It’s a strange sensation—one he’s not able to describe in so many words—but he enjoys it. He thinks.

Maybe.

“No.” He clears his throat. “The fact that you find Michael Keaton—as Beetlejuice—hot is concerning to me, kid.”

You throw your head back laughing, motioning to a bench that looks fairly dry. You’re not ready for your evening to end quite yet.

“Why’d you always call me that?”

Joel unhooks his arm from yours, taking a seat as you plop down onto the birchwood. He lets out a little grunt as he goes down, something about his back and knees hurting from slaving away alllllll day.

“Call you what? Kid?”

You nod.

“Dunno.” He shrugs, leaning back. Joel extends his legs, just watching the city lights pass him by. “I’m a lot older than you. It’s habit, I ‘spose.”

Dallas is bustling, tonight. A cold, foggy evening will seldom stop the population of Texas from stepping out on a Saturday night. Phil’s Line Dancing club is packed, as per usual. Wall-to-wall with people just looking for a good time.

The atmosphere is unmatched, to you. Nothing feels as good as your state. Especially on weekends and football days. You get a little wet just thinking about the Cowboys playing AT&T.

Your home is so vibrant. So colourful and beautiful, and you’re happy to be seeing Dallas in all of its glory with Joel by your side tonight.

Many a drunk couple stumble past you both as you sit and chat on the bench, the thought of his last sentiment still hanging over your head like a little rain cloud. He may be a lot older than you, but you don’t mind. You still see him as a friend.

A good friend, as a matter of fact. Great, even. The best, perhaps.

A friend who despite seeing every single morning—and sometimes evening—you still feel like you cannot fill in the blanks on the sordid details of his life.

“Can I ask you something?” You turn so that you’re facing Joel, eyes searching his face for an answer. He smiles. The lines around his mouth, crows feet and forehead wrinkles have your eyes softening.

He’s so handsome.

“Yeah, shoot.”

Fiddling with the chain on your wrist—the one that Maria got you from Toronto—it’s a struggle to find your words. The right words, anyway.

You clear your throat after an awkward juncture, finally able to verbalize what you want to say.

“Did Tess leave because of me?”

It comes like a ton of bricks to the chest. Joel didn’t think you’d ask such a heavy question, least alone after spending the evening—outside of the shop—together. It’s a very jarring—painful—position to be thrust into. But it’s a question that he knew he’d have to respond to first as last.

His heart wrenches. He knows the answer, but he doesn’t know whether you do.

“I won’t be offended. Honest.”

“Where’s—uh—where’s this comin’ from?” He stutters over his qualm, hand reaching for the back of his neck. He rubs at the skin, feeling his heart pound. “Did someone say somethin’?”

Your head shakes. “No. I’ve just been thinkin’…”

“Why?” Comes a little bit curt. He kicks himself, but you don’t seem fazed by his tone. “People talkin’?”

Again, you’re shaking your head. “No, Joel, I just wanna know.”

Inquisitive as ever.

He swallows thickly the acrimony that’s rising to the surface at the thought of Tess and the day that she left. Trying to keep it suppressed hasn’t done him the favor that he thought it would’ve.

“She left ‘cus she had enough.” He spits, doing the most to avoid eye contact. “Of me. Of Birch Grove. Of everything that I fuckin’ did.”

You gasp. You don’t think that you’ve ever heard Joel curse.

Raw with emotion, his voice sounds barren. Bare. There’s nothing left to say, on the topic, but so much at the same time. But he owes this to you.

“She never liked you, y’know?” Almost guilty, he says. “Said you’re always too chirpy and flirty—hell, I think she was just projectin’ ‘cus I never saw her happy to see no one.”

“No way.” Not nearly sarcastic enough, you laugh. “I’m surprised that she never spat in my coffee.”

“Yeah, well. I’d never put anything past her.” A little bitter, he responds. “Hated all you girls that’d come in. Even scared off Josie—told her not to come back, or she’d tell her husband that she was tryna screw me—“

Genuinely shocked, your jaw hangs low. “Jesus.”

“Yep.” He watches over the stragglers stumbling out of Phil’s, and looks at you.

Your cheeks, nose and ears are stippled with a rosy blush. If he were to set his calloused palms against your tender skin, he’s sure that the cold would be almost bone-chilling. But he refrains.

“Nasty, nasty piece ‘a work. Glad she left, if I’m honest.”

“You two…You seemed so happy.”

“We were.” Honest comes his proclamation. “Until we weren’t. Until she started to get envious of every single female that walked through the cafe doors, and turned into a big blonde green-eyed monster.”

“Jealousy is such an ugly trait.”

He agrees with a tight-lipped smile and a nod, ignoring the fact that he was feeling that very emotion when you went out on a date. With a man who wasn’t him.

But now, here you are. With Joel. On a not date. But he’ll take what he can get, so long as the two of you can have some time together.

“God, Joel. I couldn’t imagine my life not coming to see you every morning.”

He smiles.

“What?” You blush. But it’s not apparent, what with the way your skin is already flush.

“Nothin.’” Joel’s teeth show beneath the scratchy hair of his mustache. You smile back. “Just couldn’t imagine mine if you didn’t come ‘n bleed me dry of lattes ‘n cinnamon rolls, either.”

That’s wholly the truth. Something he didn’t think he’d ever find himself letting you become privy to. Yet, here he is.

“That’s sweet. It’s nice to know that you have a heart beneath all the band shirts, and flannels.”

“Yeah, well.” He stretches his arms out and you slide closer to him—taking the man completely by surprise—nestling comfortably into his side. A perfect fit, actually. “It’s hard to get to, but it’s there.”

You smile up at him, eyes twinkling beneath the streetlights above.

“That’s good to know.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your gaze is averted to the sidewalk, now. Focused wholly on the night passing you by. “Hopefully I hold a tiny little place there.”

Joel hugs you into his side, silently reassuring you that there’ll always be a tiny little place in his heart just for you.

[saphiccarma]

Sex with a Ghost

Summary - You weren't sure why you were on Earth, or why you could sense the Darkhold, but you did know you encountered the most beautiful woman on earth.

Warnings - Smut, fingering (R receiving)

A/N : I've never written smut before 😭I apologise if it's really bad (which it probably is)

Wanda moved to a house out in woods after Westview, shame filling her at what she had done. She hadn't meant to take control of all those people, make them her puppets in her own little personal town where she could live out her personal fantasy of having a life with Vision. Part of, the largest part, loved that. She had children who ran around and baked with her, who loved her and she loved them.

She saw the boys now, bolting in through the room, their smiles bright. From an outside view Wanda saw herself stirring some brownie batter. They dipped their fingers in as Wanda scolded them playfully.

It was a dream. It was all a dream. At least that's what she wanted to believe. In some reality, she had this. She had her boys and presumably Vision. A sick feeling boiled in her stomach, one filled with rage and jealousy, but also sadness.

Wanda was yanked out of her dream, her perfect dream, and back to her reality. Her eyes opened blearily, blinking away sleep as she adjusted to the light coming in from the window and softly illuminating the room. Weird, she didn't remember opening the curtains. Sitting up slowly, she listened to the birds chirping, her sheep bleating, the wind swaying the trees, and footsteps. Wanda did a small double take. Footsteps, feathery light, were above her, just barely audible.

As the footsteps continued, Wanda threw on some clothes, changing out of her night gown and opened the window fully. She stepped out, using her powers to elevate her to the roof. Wanda landed softly, a contrast to her emotions, and raised her hands, prepared to fight.

She froze.

A woman stood on the roof, her legs bending and straightening as she spun around. Her arms flew through the air as she danced along the rooftops. Blowing in her face, the wind ruffled her hair and made it whip around her face. The dress she wore was dancing with her, billowing as the wind spun past. The sunlight hit her just right so that it looked like a spotlight coming from below. The oddest part was her body. The tips of her fingers, the end of her nose, the outline of her entire figure, seemed to be floating away - attempting to carry her body up in little wisps. She looked like a ghost.

The woman slowed, spinning around and making eye contact with Wanda. Slowly, she blinked, her arms coming down to rest at her side as she tilted her head in a way that reminded Wanda of a puppy.

"Hi," she said softly, her voice mixing with the wind.

"Who are you?" Wanda asked, her Sokovian accent making it through just barely.

Blinking slowly, the woman approached Wanda, her hands splayed out in a placating way, as if she were approaching a scared cat. She got into touching distance before stopping.

"You do not know me?" Curiosity dripped from her words as she titled her head once more.

Wanda shook her head, scowling at the woman, "No."

She didn't look the slightest bit familiar. Nothing about her seemed familiar. The woman sighed, her shoulders sagging.

"But you can see me?" she asked, raising a brow.

"Why wouldn't I?"

A smile crept across the woman's face, "Because I'm a ghost."

^______________________^

As you thought, Wanda was a force to be reckoned with. She contained a violent power that was meant to be controlled, one that could not run free. Her magic was a force of nature, not meant to belong to someone who ran free throughout the world. Wanda would have been raised properly and properly taught if she had raised by witches.

You drifted through her house, taking in the cozy decoration. Couches, meant for a family lined the living room, beneath a TV and in front of a roaring fireplace. Wanda led you to the kitchen, her steps hesitant, yet confident. She had a calm vibe to her house in the decor, and despite that you couldn't help but shiver. An air of darkness lingered in the house. It floated in the air, wafting through all the corridors and seeping through the floor. The Darkhold.

"You are in possession of the Darkhold," you murmured.

Wanda's head snapped towards you, her brows furrowed, and nose scrunched, "How do know that?"

Offering her a soft smile, you pointedly glanced down at her fingers, "The tips of your fingers are stained with the darkness of it, and I can feel it."

"You can feel it? How?" she asked, pausing in her walking, staring at you curiously.

You pondered her words, wondering the best way to explain it. Even you didn't quite know yourself. Your powers were a mystery to you, they simply came to be when you died. Dying wasn't a pleasant experience, having been stabbed, you could still remember the blood flowing from the wound as you limped through the snow. When you were alive you were no one of significance, not even a witch. And yet, when you died, the gates to the underworld refused to let you in. Rather you were rejected and forced to wander the world, drawn to the dark forces of life.

"I do not know," you shrugged, answering honestly, "I just do."

The woman tilted her head, regarding you in an odd way. She was a pretty woman. Red hair cascading down her back, slightly messy, that fell atop her brown jacket. Green eyes that had the ability to shine bright red, but both beautiful.

"Why are you here?" she questioned, taking a step closer.

You licked your lips, "Because I thought you could see me. No one's seen me in years."

Carefully you took a step forward, even though Wanda looked like she wanted to step back and raised your hand slowly. Eyeing you warily, Wanda didn't step back, but her breathing increased, bushing the top of your head. Ever so slowly, you placed your hand on her arm, and for once it didn't phase through her skin.

"I'm not phasing through," you whispered, pressing your hand into her skin, "It works."

You smiled up at her, a sight Wanda found adorable, the way your pale eyes shimmered and your lips curled upward in pure delight. While you were adorable, she wasn't sure what to think of you. A ghost, who appeared at her home out of blue, and somehow knew she had the Darkhold.

"Sorry," you stepped back, hand falling away, "It's been a while since I've been around someone."

"That's alright," Wanda's lip quirked upward.

You bit your lip, pondering your next question, toes bouncing just slightly, "What do you plan on doing with the Darkhold?"

Wanda's mood changed immediately, her shoulders tensing and eyes turning to daggers.

"That's none of your business," she snapped, the thinnest layer of red coming to coat her eyes.

"I can help," you offered, enjoying the way she seemed to perk up, the red dispersing from her eyes, "I've been following the Darkhold around for years."

Licking her lips, Wanda's eyes bore into you, your fingers fidgeting ever so slightly.

"I'm going to bring my kids back," she whispered.

A sadistic grin crossed your face, "I know how to do that."

^______________________^

You danced in the spare room in Wanda's house, your legs burning and lungs thumping from exhaustion. The nightmare was still in the front of your mind, phantom pain in your stomach. A knife being plunged into your stomach by a girl your age, the snow coating you as you were left to die, hauling yourself up to limp away, and finally collapsing in the snow.

There were light footsteps entering the room, ones that you ignored, hoping Wanda would go back to sleep. But she didn't, you caught a brief glance of her leaning on the doorway, her arms crossed and a small smile on her face, filled with adoration. It had been a few months since you first met Wanda, and while the woman was harsh, sometimes considered cruel, you understood her. She was kind to you, welcoming you in and caring for you.

"You should stop," Wanda said softly, her eyes taking in your sweaty face. She didn't even know ghosts could sweat or get tired; she didn't even know you could eat.

You gave her no response, continuing through the movements. Your arms hurt from being raised and if you could bleed, you were sure there would be blood staining the floors. Red wisps stopped your movements, pinning your arms to your sides, spinning you around to face Wanda who had her hand raised slightly.

Glaring at you, you huffed, "Wanda."

She approached you, gently cupping your jaw in her ring clad fingers, digging just slightly into your cheeks. The tips of her fingers were cold, stained from the magic of the Darkhold.

"I told you to stop." Her voice carried an air of dominance. One that filled you with shame.

"Sorry," you mumbled, "It just helps me to cope with stress."

While your gaze was fixed on the floor, you didn't notice Wanda's lips curl into a smirk. She leaned in close, her breath warm against the shell of your ear.

"I know a better way to help you destress." Her voice was sultry as she spoke those words, pulling back and tilting your chin up.

Your heart pounded as she pulled you in for a harsh kiss, her lips pressing up against yours. Fighting for dominance, Wanda shoved you back towards the wall, slamming you against it. Her teeth bit down on your lip, requesting permission to enter. Your lips parted to allow her tongue to slip in. It was a heated kiss, one that only ended when Wanda pulled back, her breathing heavy.

Her pupils were blown as she looked down at you, "Bedroom?"

You nodded, letting out a surprised squeak when Wanda lifted you up, your legs wrapping around her waist. Taking the opportunity, you nipped at her neck, relishing in the way she growled softly. Teasingly, you liked a strip up the column of her throat. Wanda let out a shaky breath, the palm of her hand landing on your ass.

"Stop that."

You grinned against her neck, pressing a soft kiss before biting down hard. Wanda growled once and suddenly she was no longer holding you up and you were falling flat on your back before you landed on the mattress. She climbed on top of you, trapping your body to the mattress,

"Someone's being naughty," Wanda smirked down at you, her eyes filled with mischief.

You smiled up at her cheekily as her hands snuck under your shirt, making their way to your breasts. Her hands came to tease your nipples, pulling at the little nubs and twisting. You gasped, squirming underneath her. She leaned down to kiss at your neck, nipping and soothing the marks over with her tongue.

"Wanda.." you whined, hands coming up to pull on the fabric of her shirt. Ignoring your whine, one of Wanda's hands slide down the side of your body, making its way to the waist of your pants. She tugged on the waistband, and you lifted your hips up, allowing her to pull it off with your panties and throw it to the side. She shuffled down, keeping her left hand playing with your breast, and the other resting on your waist. Her lips, soft against the wisp of your skin, trailed up the length of your thigh, kissing up to where you needed it most.

You whined, tugging at her hair, "Touch me."

Wanda chuckled, the sound cruel and cold, "I am."

A moan escaped you when she bit the inner skin on your thigh. Her index finger and thumb twisted your nipple harshly, resulting in a breathy moan from you. You tugged at her hair, trying to encourage her to get on with it. Wanda just laughed, her breath tickling your core. She swiped her fingers up your folds, your slick gathering on them.

"Aww," she cooed, not at all sweetly, "Is this all for me? I've barely touched you." Her fingers tapped on your lips before you could respond, asking for entrance. Opening your mouth, you licked her fingers clean of your slick, her fingers heavy on your tongue. "Does my needy baby want me to fuck her?"

"Yes," you pleaded when her fingers popped out of your mouth, "Please."

Wanda didn't respond, instead attaching her mouth to your clit, swirling around it. Her fingers entered you slowly, ever so tediously pumping in and out. She licked and sucked at your clit as you moaned, pulling at her hair for more. She ignored your silent please, instead continuing to swirl her tongue around your clit and pump in and out of you slowly. Picking up pace, she switched to hammering into you harshly, curling every now and then, hitting your sweet spot. Moving her mouth away, Wanda silenced your whine by attaching her lips to yours, kissing you passionately. With everything going on, you quickly reached your climax, that familiar heat coiling in your stomach. Your legs trembled as you started to let go, pressure building inside you, and just before you could have release, Wanda stopped. Her fingers pulled away and she stopped kissing you.

"No!" You cried, sitting up slightly to grab at her hand and pull it back to your core. Wanda laughed in faux pity, frowning at you. Before you could protest anymore, her fingers rammed into you once more. Wanda edged you two more times, pulling you to the edge, reading your body language, before she would pull back and look at you with regret that she didn't really mean. And for the fourth time, two of her fingers pushed into your sore pussy, her palm slapping against your clit if she went far enough. If it were any other time, you would've been embarrassed at the wet sounds that came from the room and the moans that escaped your mouth when she hit the perfect spot. Your climax came quickly, her skilled fingers bringing you to the edge.

Her fingers slipped out just slightly, causing you to panic, "Please, please, please," you begged, "Please."

Wanda continued pumping in and out of you languidly, considering your plea, "Go ahead." You sighed with relief when her fingers picked up pace, pounding into you again. Your climax came as quickly as it had gone, your body tensing as you finally let go, spilling all over her. Pulling out slowly, Wanda brought her fingers to her mouth, moaning at the taste of you.

You laid panting on the bed, arms spread out as your chest rose and fell. Wanda flopped down next to you, her other hand that wasn't in her mouth coming up to brush your hair out of your sweaty face. Smiling at her you kissed her lips softly, tasting yourself on her. She hummed softly, pulling you closer. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, your head leaning on her chest, listening to the sound of her heartbeat, her very real heartbeat. Her fingers played with your hair, stroking your neck softly as she wrapped herself around you.

"Let's get you cleaned up," she whispered, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

"No," you whined, pulling her back when she tried to pull away, "Stay here."

Wanda laughed, the sound soft and melodious, "Just a few more minutes."

You smirked in victory, whispering three words you never said until you met Wanda, "I love you."

[lecsainz]

Hope you're doing amazing! I love your blog so much! I come here almost every other day to day dream about my favourites and read your pieces again and again. Could i request Carlos x reader fic where Carlos comforts the reader after some reporters prod into their private life and the reader feels overwhelmed... Angst to fluff and maybe smut in the end?

SHE’S A BAD BAD GIRL

parings: carlos sainz x famous!reader

authors note: I gotta say, mixing a bit of AU with regular fanfic, can I just say I love doing magazine features?

summary: that one where the media makes up stuff about your relationship with carlos but he ain't gonna let that shake our relationship.

☆. . . masterlist !

Exclusive Source Reveals Startling Insights Into the Relationship of F1's Rising Star and the Elusive Heiress

The Power Couple: Carlos Sainz and Y/N Y/L/N's Love Story or PR Masterpiece?

By TMZ Magazine - September 2023

In the glitzy world of fame and fortune, where the line between reality and illusion often blurs, power couples are born just as swiftly as they fade away.

None have captured the public's attention quite like that of Formula 1 sensation Carlos Sainz Jr. and the enigmatic heiress Y/N Y/L/N. This power couple's whirlwind romance has been the subject of intense speculation, with many questioning the authenticity of their love. In a TMZ exclusive, we delve into the inner workings of their seemingly sensational union, revealing what lies beneath the surface.

It's no secret that the world of celebrity romance often blurs the lines between genuine affection and calculated publicity. In the case of Carlos Sainz Jr. and Y/N Y/L/N, sources close to the couple suggest that their relationship might be more PR strategy than a heartfelt connection. Our exclusive source, a close friend of the couple, disclosed that the pair has carefully orchestrated their romance to maximize benefits on both ends.

"They both know that being in the spotlight can help boost their respective careers," our source shared. "They decided it's a mutually beneficial arrangement. Carlos gets more media coverage, and Y/N can use his popularity to her advantage."

Y/N Y/L/N, the elusive heiress whose life has been shrouded in mystery, has raised eyebrows with her numerous high-profile relationships over the years. It's no secret that she's been romantically linked to at least eight A-list celebrities, including musicians, actors, and even fellow heirs. Despite her apparent aversion to fame and the media circus that surrounds it, Y/N has consistently found herself in the headlines due to her high-profile affairs.

"The irony is that Y/N has always claimed to hate the attention that comes with dating famous people," our source revealed. "Yet, she's continued to choose partners from the same world she professes to despise."

As the couple's relationship has garnered more attention, their PR teams have been working tirelessly to manage the narrative. They've employed tactics such as carefully timed public appearances, social media posts, and interviews to keep the public intrigued and invested in their romance. This calculated approach, however, has led many to question the authenticity of their connection.

"Their teams are skilled at using the media to their advantage," our source admitted. "It's all about perception and maintaining their status as a 'power couple.'"

As the world continues to watch this captivating couple's every move, one question lingers: Is their love story genuine, or is it a calculated maneuver to seize the attention of the masses and advance their respective careers? Are Carlos and Y/N truly in love, or are they orchestrating a well-choreographed PR campaign for mutual benefit?

Stay tuned for more exclusive updates and revelations from TMZ Magazine.

Y/N lay sprawled across the plush sofa in the cozy living room of her shared home with Carlos in Spain. The afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting warm rays of light across the room. She'd been catching up on some reading when her phone buzzed incessantly, drawing her attention away from the book.

The headline on her screen was impossible to miss: "The Power Couple: Carlos Sainz and Y/N Y/L/N's Love Story or PR Masterpiece?" The TMZ article had surfaced online, and her heart sank as she read through the scandalous claims about their relationship. It was a relentless invasion of their privacy, dissecting their love as if it were a staged performance.

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, and she felt overwhelmed by the intrusion into their lives. She knew she had to confront this with Carlos, who had always been her rock in times of turmoil.

Carlos entered the room, sensing the tension in the air. "Y/N, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice filled with concern as he sat down beside her.

She handed him her phone, unable to speak the words herself. Carlos read through the article, his expression growing darker with every word. He clenched his jaw, his protective instincts kicking in. "This is complete nonsense," he muttered angrily.

Carlos's anger simmered as he continued to read the invasive article. His protective instincts flared, and he couldn't fathom how anyone could twist their love into something so far from the truth.

"They have no idea what they're talking about," Carlos said, his voice low but filled with determination. "This is just trash journalism trying to stir up controversy."

Y/N looked up at Carlos, her eyes filled with gratitude. She'd always admired his strength and resilience. "I know, Carlos, but it still stings. I hate how they're trying to make our love seem fake."

Carlos's expression softened as he turned to her. "Mi sol," he whispered, using the affectionate term he had for her. "Our love is as real as the sun streaming through those windows. Don't ever doubt that."

Y/N managed a faint smile, her heart aching a little less with his reassuring words. "I just wish we could shut them up, Carlos."

A mischievous glint flickered in Carlos's eyes as he looked at her. "Well, maybe we can," he said cryptically.

Before Y/N could ask what he meant, Carlos swept her into his arms and stood up. She laughed in surprise, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Carlos, what are you doing?" she asked, her laughter mixing with curiosity.

He grinned down at her, his eyes dancing with mischief. "I'm taking my sunshine to our room," he said, "away from all this nonsense."

Y/N couldn't help but giggle as Carlos carried her bridal style down the hallway to their bedroom. His laughter joined hers, and it echoed through their home, drowning out the noise of the world outside.

In that moment, as Carlos playfully carried her, Y/N realized that their love was a sanctuary, a refuge from the chaos of fame and gossip. It didn't matter what others said or wrote about them. What they had was real, unbreakable, and filled with a kind of love that could weather any storm.

As they reached their bedroom, Carlos gently set Y/N down, and they both burst into laughter. He pulled her into a tender kiss, sealing their promise to protect their love from the prying eyes of the world.

As Carlos set Y/N down in their bedroom, their laughter filled the air like a sweet melody, banishing the remnants of unease brought on by the intrusive article. With a loving smile, Carlos cupped her face in his hands, his gaze locked onto hers.

"You know," he whispered, his voice laced with desire, "there's one thing those journalists will never understand."

Y/N's breath hitched as she met his intense gaze. "What's that?" she asked, her voice barely more than a soft murmur.

Carlos leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a teasing, tantalizing kiss. "That our love," he murmured, his voice husky, "is the real deal."

Their kisses deepened, their passion igniting like a flame. Carlos's hands slid from her face down to the small of her back, pulling her closer. Y/N's fingers tangled in his hair, and she moaned softly against his lips.

Their love was a fire burning brightly, an unbreakable bond that no amount of gossip or scrutiny could diminish. As their clothes fell to the floor, they reveled in the intimacy that was entirely their own, a celebration of their genuine love.

In the quiet of their bedroom, away from the prying eyes of the world, Carlos and Y/N proved that their love wasn't just a masterpiece of public relations. It was a passionate, fiery, and deeply genuine connection that left no room for doubt.

As their bodies entwined and their moans of pleasure filled the room, they knew that their love was their most cherished secret, a sanctuary where they could be their true selves, far away from the judgmental eyes of the world.

liked by charlesleclerc , taylorswift , and 13.657.473 others

carlossainz55 just had the best night of my life! thanks, gossipmongers, for the motivation.

tag: yourusername

comments have been disabled.

[srvbryn]

I can request that luke x reader end up on a mission where consecutively luke is jealous of the guy they are on the mission with but after all they face they make it through together.

Luke Castellan. Jealous

Luke Castellan X Hebe!Daughter!Reader

Summary: WHAT THE REQUEST SAID PERIOD!! 🤭🤭

Warning: insecure Luke + Sassy Luke (it's not that bad I promise), kiss scene is oddly specific

738 words 😋

A/n: HAIAI for the one that requests this - i'm not sure whether you want Dark!Luke or just Luke SO I hope you enjoy reading this! 🎀 I hope the scene adds the jealousy touch you were looking for 😭😭

As Ares sent Tom, his newly claimed son, on a quest, he surprisingly included both you and Luke.

Tensions ran high, especially when Tom, seemingly oblivious to the atmosphere, went out of his way to gain your attention.

Luke's subtle glares and tightened jawlines, and Tom, enjoying the tension he created, sported a cocky smirk.

During one skirmish, Tom took an unnecessary risk, earning a wound that you promptly tended to with nectar. Luke's eyes narrowed as he watched you care for Tom, his possessive instincts kicking in. "You're not the only one who knows how to patch up injuries," Luke muttered under his breath, his competitive spirit burning.

As the quest continued, Luke attempts to win back your attention became more apparent.

All while subtly keeping an eye on your reactions. Insecurities lingered beneath his confident exterior, and he couldn't shake the feeling that Tom's antics were slowly chipping away at your focus.

One evening, around the campfire, tensions reached their peak. Tom, in a moment of bravado, tried to impress you with a flashy display of swordplay.

Luke, unable to contain his frustration, interrupted, "Enough showing off. We're here for a quest, not a theatrical performance."

The exchange escalated into a heated argument, with Tom challenging Luke to prove himself worthy.

In the aftermath, Luke's insecurities remained, but he found a safe place within your arms - especially when you slept with your head on his shoulder.

The quest led you through treacherous terrain. Tom's eagerness to impress became more pronounced with each passing day, drawing amusement from you and aggravation from Luke.

On the second day, as you and Luke set up camp, Tom, nursing a minor injury, couldn't resist an opportunity for an ounce of your attention. "Hey, (Name), think you could patch me up? Your healing touch works wonders," he grinned, casting a challenging glance at Luke.

Luke, retorted, "Don't you have some divine healing powers, Montgomery? Or is that too much effort for the god of war's son?"

You sigh, handing Tom a spoonful of nectar. "Save the bickering for the monsters. We're here for a reason."

The next day, during a battle with harpies, Tom took an unnecessary risk in order to demonstrate his combat abilities. Luke being Luke of course he noticed the danger unfold. "Watch your back, Montgomery!" he exclaimed.

He couldn't help but mutter, "Trying to impress someone, Tom?"

Tom smirked, "Why, jealous, Castellan?"

You interrupt them with a sigh. "Enough of this. We need to focus on the quest, not on each other."

In the quiet moments, Luke's insecurities surfaced. That night, as the three of you sat around the campfire, Luke glared at Tom, "I'm not used to sharing the spotlight, especially when you're trying so hard to win my girlfriend's attention."

Tom, surprisingly, replied, "I get it, man. But she's not a prize to be won."

"Yeah well she's my girlfriend so please back off" Luke scoffed.

It was the final day, which is finally the time for the three of you to go back to the camp.

As the quest concluded with triumph, the adrenaline still coursed through your veins. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the landscape. The trio stood victorious, catching their breaths.

As you began to share congratulatory words with Tom, Luke's hand subtly found its way to yours.

With a gentle tug, Luke pulled you away from the group, guiding you toward the edge of the forest.

The air between you crackled with unspoken tension from the quest. Once beneath the canopy of trees, Luke stopped, his eyes searching yours.

"Sweet," he began, his voice low and intense. "I couldn't stand watching Tom try to steal your attention during this quest. It drove me insane."

Before you could respond, his lips met yours in a passionate kiss and the realization of how much he valued you.

The forest around you seemed to hold its breath as the kiss deepened, expressing the intensity of the emotions both of you had kept hidden.

When he finally pulled away, Luke's eyes bore into yours, a mixture of possessiveness and vulnerability. "I don't want to share you with anyone. You're mine, (Name)."

The words hung in the air, and you could feel the weight of his emotions. As you reassured him by tilting your head forward and putting your soft lips on his. His lips were warm and soft. They parted slightly, allowing your tongue to slip inside.

"I love kissing you, y'know that?" Luke murmur.

[zvaigzdelasas]

[BBC is UK State Media]

The United Arab Emirates (UAE) has funded politically-motivated assassinations in Yemen, a BBC investigation has found, exacerbating a conflict involving the Yemeni government and warring factions which has recently returned to the international spotlight following attacks on ships in the Red Sea.

Counter-terrorism training provided by American mercenaries to Emirati officers in Yemen has been used to train locals who can work under a lower profile - sparking a major uptick in political assassinations, a whistleblower told BBC Arabic Investigations.

The BBC has also found that despite the American mercenaries' stated aim to eliminate the jihadist groups al-Qaeda and Islamic State (IS) in southern Yemen, in fact the UAE has gone on to recruit former al-Qaeda members for a security force it has created on the ground in Yemen to fight the Houthi rebel movement and other armed factions.

The UAE government has denied the allegations in our investigation - that it had assassinated those without links to terrorism - saying they were "false and without merit".

These are largely between the two parts of the "real" "legitimate" "internationally recognized" coalition govt of Yemen you've been scolded so much about over the last month btw [22 Jan 24]

Continued after the cut

The killing spree in Yemen - more than 100 assassinations in a three-year period - is just one element of an ongoing bitter internecine conflict pitting several international powers against each other in the Middle East's poorest country.[...]

In 2015, the US and the UK supported a coalition of mostly Arab states led by Saudi Arabia - with the UAE as a key partner - to fight back. The coalition invaded Yemen with the aim of reinstating the exiled Yemeni government and fighting terrorism. The UAE was given charge of security in the south, and became the US's key ally on counter-terrorism in the region - al-Qaeda had long been a presence in the south and was now gaining territory.[...]

Under international law, any killing of civilians without due process would be counted as extra-judicial.

The majority of those assassinated were members of Islah - the Yemeni branch of the Muslim Brotherhood. It [...] has never been classified by the US as a terror organisation, but is banned in several Arab countries - including the UAE where its political activism and support for elections is seen by the country's royal family as a threat to their rule.

Leaked drone footage of the first assassination mission gave me a starting point from which to investigate these mysterious killings. It was dated December 2015 and was traced to members of a private US security company called Spear Operations Group.[...]

Isaac Gilmore, a former US Navy Seal who later became chief operating officer of Spear, was one of several Americans who say they were hired to carry out assassinations in Yemen by the UAE.

He refused to talk about anyone who was on the "kill list" provided to Spear by the UAE - other than the target of their first mission: Ansaf Mayo, a Yemeni MP who is the leader of Islah in the southern port city of Aden, the government's temporary capital since 2015.[...]

Mr Gilmore, and another Spear employee in Yemen at the time - Dale Comstock - told me that the mission they conducted ended in 2016. But the assassinations in southern Yemen continued. In fact they became more frequent, according to investigators from the human rights group Reprieve.

They investigated 160 killings carried out in Yemen between 2015 and 2018. They said the majority happened from 2016 and only 23 of the 160 people killed had links to terrorism. All the killings had been carried out using the same tactics that Spear had employed - the detonation of an improvised explosive device (IED) as a distraction, followed by a targeted shooting. The most recent political assassination in Yemen, according to Yemeni human rights lawyer Huda al-Sarari, happened just last month - of an imam killed in Lahj by the same method.[...]

Mr Gilmore, Mr Comstock, and two other mercenaries from Spear who asked not to be named, said that Spear had been involved in training Emirati officers in the UAE military base in Aden. A journalist who asked to remain anonymous also told us he had seen footage of such training.

As the mercenaries' profile had made them conspicuous in Aden and vulnerable to exposure, their brief had been changed to training Emirati officers, "who in turn trained local Yemenis to do the targeting", the Yemeni military officer told me.

Through the course of the investigation, we also spoke to more than a dozen other Yemeni sources who said this had been the case. They included two men who said they had carried out assassinations which were not terror-related, after being trained to do so by Emirati soldiers - and one man who said he had been offered release from a UAE prison in exchange for the assassination of a senior Yemeni political figure, a mission he did not accept.

Getting Yemenis to conduct the assassinations meant it was harder for the killings to be traced back to the UAE.

By 2017, the UAE had helped build a paramilitary force, part of the Emirati-funded Southern Transitional Council (STC), a security organisation that runs a network of armed groups across southern Yemen.

The force operated in southern Yemen independently of the Yemeni government, and would only take orders from the UAE. The fighters were not just trained to fight on active front lines. One particular unit, the elite Counter Terrorism Unit, was trained to conduct assassinations, our whistleblower told us.

The whistleblower sent a document with 11 names of former al-Qaeda members now working in the STC, some of whose identities we were able to verify ourselves.

During our investigation we also came across the name Nasser al-Shiba. Once a high-ranking al-Qaeda operative, he was jailed for terrorism but later released. A Yemeni government minister we spoke to told us al-Shiba was a known suspect in the attack on the US warship USS Cole, which killed 17 American sailors in October 2000. Multiple sources told us that he is now the commander of one of the STC military units. Lawyer Huda al-Sarari has been investigating human rights abuses committed by these UAE-backed forces on the ground. As a result of her work, she would frequently receive death threats. But it was her 18-year-old son Mohsen who paid the ultimate price.

He was shot in the chest in March 2019 while on a trip to a local petrol station, and died a month later.[...]

A subsequent investigation by Aden's public prosecutor found that Mohsen was killed by a member of the UAE-backed Counter Terrorism Unit, but the authorities have never pursued a prosecution.

Members of the prosecutor's office - who we cannot name for safety reasons - told us that the widespread assassinations have created a climate of fear that means even they are too afraid to pursue justice in cases involving forces backed by the UAE.

Reprieve has received a leaked UAE document that shows Spear was still being paid in 2020, though it is not clear in what capacity.

[princepqul]

very rusty doodle, but wanted to try some shattered glass orion :3 i think orion would be falsely-noble and righeous, almost akin to sentinel, and primus (evil) would treat him as such with gifting him the matrix and giving him the constant jesus spotlight.

yap session of my TFO SG thoughts below the cut (spoilers) ｡･:*˚:✧｡

alright cool where do we start (pulls off my huge conspiracy board wall)

i wanna imagine that most events stayed the same. d16 and orion were good friends, orion was adventurous and d was sternly worried, but it starts getting strained as they go on their journey for the matrix. meet b127, join elita, then learn about the truth of iacon via sentinel prime (replacing trion) on how alpha trion is a false prophet.

instead of orion + gang crashing out right here, orion realizes that. huh. sure, trion kinda bad for caging them all up and forcing them to do this dirty work, but this leadership kept them afloat and all that power completely intoxicates orion for a minute. d16, very obviously, kinda hates that. why are we being put to work for trion's misdeeds? this is horrible, guys!! and orion only seems to yearn for that complete autocracy trion has and he wants for himself. after all, all those rebellious moves was him wanting to give himself more autonomy, more power, and here was a method that works.

they met the high guard, led by starscream who wants to put a stop to trion's tyranny, and d16's the only ones whos like "oh hell yeah im on board brother". maybe theres some sort of orion vs starscream fight here? but its more fuel to the fire for their relationship. something something this post on how d16 thinks hes the crazy one, something something.

jump cut to d16 fighting trion. hes rightfully furious at this all and wants him dead, and is even willing to kill him infront of all of iacon. orion stops him, saying how they can let him live, let him do the dirty work, but d16's now properly scared of his best friend. he cant let orion do this, he needs to make sure this all ends. it turns into a dpax fight, and when theyre not looking, d16 manages to kill trion, a strike from his canon. this completely infuriates orion, and he pulls out his axe to kill d16, but starscream (whos been assisting d16 the whole time) jumps out infront and takes the blow. d16's devastated and jumps after starscream's body that nearly falls into cybertron. holding his wrist, still seeing that hes holding on, d16 tries to pull him up when, in his moment of vulnerability, he's kicked. orion pax, his best friend, kicks him and starscream into the inner gore of their planet, plummeting towards the unforgiving primus.

the bystanders of iacon doesnt see this. they can only see so much from their angle, and when orion steps back, all they see is a bot, energon-splattered and shaken from the attempt on his life. so, what does he do? he paints on the most pathetic, worry-stricken face when he turns to his people, voice wracked with grief when he woes on the horror that unfolded before him. when d16 falls through cybertron, holding onto starscream and trying to find leverage on the edges of iacon's structure, orion rises, taking trion's matrix from his chest and tells the people of iacon that he will make sure he leads everyone into a brighter future, one rid of these animalistic lowly bots. and when he replaces his cog, speaks to his people, and sings of his future, primus makes sure to cast a brilliant spotlight on him, as if a new savior truly has arrived.

just before he can completely level all of iacon, megatron rises from the pits, armed with ratbat, and sets to finally take down optimus prime and stop this. unfortunately, optimus is simply too strong with the matrix, and hes forced to retreat with whats left of starscream, and the high guard. aaaaannnnnddd now SG TFO is just optimus leading millions of autobots under his leadership, unknowing of his betrayal, and a new group of decepticons trying to stop them once and for all.

ok thats all , maybe one day ill draw/write this all (shrug). time being, have evil optimus prime <3

[simply-ivanka]

Who’s Afraid of Project 2025?

Democrats run against a think-tank paper that Trump disavows. Why?

Wall Street Journal

July 29, 2024

By The Editorial Board

Americans are learning more about Kamala Harris, as Democrats rush to anoint the Vice President’s candidacy after throwing President Biden overboard. Ms. Harris wasted no time saying she’s going to run hard against a policy paper that Donald Trump has disavowed—the supposedly nefarious agenda known as Project 2025. But who’s afraid of a think-tank white paper?

“I will do everything in my power to unite the Democratic Party—and unite our nation—to defeat Donald Trump and his extreme Project 2025 agenda,” Ms. Harris tweeted shortly after President Biden dropped out. She’s picking up this ball from Mr. Biden, and her campaign website claims that Project 2025 would “strip away our freedoms” and “abolish checks and balances.”

***

Sounds terrible, but is it? The 922-page document doesn’t lack for modesty, as a wish list of policy reforms that would touch every part of government from the Justice Department to the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. The project is led by the Heritage Foundation and melds the work of some 400 scholars and analysts from an eclectic mix of center-right groups. The project is also assembling a Rolodex of those who might work in a Trump Administration.

Most of the Democratic panic-mongering has focused on the project’s aim to rein in the administrative state. That includes civil service reform that would make it easier to remove some government workers, and potentially revisiting the independent status of agencies like the Federal Trade Commission.

The latter isn’t going to happen, but getting firmer presidential control over the bureaucracy would improve accountability. The federal government has become so vast that Presidents have difficulty even knowing what is going on in the executive branch. Americans don’t want to be ruled by a permanent governing class that doesn’t answer to voters.

Some items on this menu are also standard conservative fare. The document calls for an 18% corporate tax rate (now 21%), describing that levy as “the most damaging tax” in the U.S. system that falls heavily on workers. A mountain of economic literature backs that up. The blueprint suggests tying more welfare programs with work; de-regulating health insurance markets; expanding Medicare Advantage plans that seniors like; ending sugar subsidies; revving up U.S. energy production. That all sounds good to us.

Democrats are suggesting the project would gut Social Security, though in fact it bows to Mr. Trump’s preference not to touch the retirement program, which is headed for bankruptcy without reform. No project can profess to care about the rising national debt, as Heritage does, without fixing a program that was 22% of the federal budget in 2023.

At times the paper takes no position. For example: The blueprint features competing essays on trade policy. This is a tacit admission that for all the GOP’s ideological confusion on economics, many conservatives still understand that Mr. Trump’s 10% tariff is a terrible idea.

As for the politics, Mr. Trump recently said online that he knew “nothing about Project 2025. I have no idea who is behind it.” That may be true. The chance that Mr. Trump has read any of it is remote to nil, and he doesn’t want to be tied to anyone’s ideas since he prizes maximum ideological flexibility.

The document mentions abortion nearly 200 times, but Mr. Trump wants to neutralize that issue. The project’s chief sponsor, Heritage president Kevin Roberts, also gave opponents a sword when he boasted of “a second American revolution” that would be peaceful “if the left allows it to be.” This won’t help Mr. Trump with the swing voters he needs to win re-election.

By our lights the project’s cultural overtones are also too dark and the agenda gives too little spotlight to the economic freedom and strong national defense that defined the think tank’s influence on Ronald Reagan in 1980.

***

But the left’s campaign against Project 2025 is reaching absurd decibels. You’d think Mr. Trump is a political mastermind hiding the secret plans he’ll implement with an army of shock troops marching in lockstep. If his first term is any guide, and it is the best we have, Mr. Trump will govern as a make-it-up-as-he-goes tactician rather than a strategist with a coherent policy guide. He’ll dodge and weave based on the news cycle and often based on whoever talks to him last.

Not much of the Project 2025 agenda is likely to happen, even if Republicans take the House and Senate. Democrats will block legislation with a filibuster. The bureaucracy will leak with abandon and oppose even the most minor reforms to the civil service. The press will revert to full resistance mode, and Mr. Trump’s staff will trip over their own ambitions.

Democrats know this, which is why they fear Trump II less than they claim. They’re targeting Project 2025 to distract from their own failed and unpopular policies.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Unspoken Melody p.1

Hi guys, here's a new story about Oscar and YN, a famous pop star. Let me know what you think :) If you want to read more of my stories, here's my masterlist.

Two drivers, one unforgettable concert, and a chance encounter with a pop sensation that leaves Oscar questioning everything he thought about music—and maybe even himself.

Oscar leaned against the wall of the car, arms crossed over his chest as he watched Lando fiddle with his phone.

“I still don’t get why you dragged me here,” Oscar said, raising an eyebrow.

“Because you need to live a little,” Lando replied with a grin. “And trust me, you’ll thank me after tonight.”

Oscar rolled his eyes but didn’t push further. He wasn’t a fan of pop music, and this YN person, though apparently a big deal, wasn’t even on his radar. All Lando had told him was that she’d invited him to her concert as a thank-you for being in her latest music video. When Lando added a casual, “You’ll love her,” Oscar had scoffed.

The venue was already buzzing when they arrived. Lando, predictably, had VIP seats right in the center. Oscar couldn’t deny the setup was impressive—the lights, the crowd, the electric energy that pulsed through the arena. Still, he kept his expectations low, determined not to get swept up in the hype.

Then, the lights dimmed, and the crowd erupted into cheers. A spotlight illuminated the stage as the first chords of a song Oscar didn’t recognize echoed through the arena. And then he saw her.

She walked out with a confident grace, her voice captivating from the first note. Oscar felt a jolt run through him, like he’d just been plugged into the very power grid lighting up the stage. Her presence was magnetic, her smile dazzling under the glow of the stage lights. He couldn’t look away.

“See?” Lando nudged him with a knowing smirk. “Told you.”

Oscar ignored him, his focus entirely on YN. She moved effortlessly, her voice weaving through the air like it was meant to be there, commanding everyone’s attention. For the first time, Oscar understood what people meant when they said someone was a star.

By the time the concert ended, Oscar’s hands were sore from clapping. Lando shot him a smug glance as they stood to leave.

“You were into it,” Lando teased, elbowing him in the ribs.

“I wasn’t—” Oscar started, but the lie died on his lips. He had been into it. More than into it.

“Well, you’ll be glad to know we’re not done.” Lando pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen. “We’re going backstage.”

“What?” Oscar’s stomach flipped. “Why?”

“To say hi, obviously. She invited me.” Lando rolled his eyes. “Don’t be weird about it.”

“I’m not being weird,” Oscar muttered, though his pulse was racing. The thought of meeting her up close, of hearing her speak directly to him, felt like more pressure than being on the starting grid of a Grand Prix.

Lando led the way to the VIP area, breezing past security with a casual confidence that Oscar envied. Oscar, meanwhile, felt like his legs were made of lead as they walked through the backstage corridors.

The VIP lounge was smaller than he expected but no less glamorous. Laughter and conversation filled the room, but Oscar barely registered it. His gaze zeroed in on her instantly. YN stood near the bar, chatting animatedly with a group of people. She was even more stunning up close, her smile as radiant as it had been on stage.

“Lando!” she exclaimed when she saw them. Her eyes lit up, and she crossed the room to greet them.

“YN!” Lando pulled her into a friendly hug. “Amazing show, as always.”

“Thanks.” Her gaze shifted to Oscar, and for a moment, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “And you must be…?”

“Oh, right.” Lando clapped Oscar on the shoulder. “This is my mate, Oscar. He’s a driver too. Not in music videos, though.”

Oscar’s face burned. “Hi,” he managed, his voice embarrassingly soft.

“It’s nice to meet you, Oscar,” she said, her smile warm. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“Yeah, it was… incredible,” Oscar admitted, his usual cool demeanor completely abandoned.

“Glad to hear it.” She tilted her head slightly, studying him. “You look a little nervous. Don’t worry, I don’t bite.”

Lando burst out laughing, and Oscar shot him a glare. “I’m not nervous,” Oscar said quickly, though his voice betrayed him. “Just… impressed.”

Her laughter was light and genuine. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

For the rest of the night, Oscar tried to play it cool, but every time YN spoke to him, his heart raced. As they left the lounge, he couldn’t shake the way she had smiled at him, how easy it had felt to talk to her despite his initial nerves.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Lando asked as they walked down the corridor toward the exit. He had his usual smug grin plastered on his face.

Oscar gave him a half-hearted glare. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Maybe a little,” Lando admitted with a chuckle. “But you’ve gotta admit, I was right. She’s amazing.”

Oscar sighed, his expression softening. “Yeah, she is.”

They stepped out into the cool night air, the muffled sounds of the crowd still buzzing behind them. Oscar shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing at the ground as they walked toward Lando’s car. His thoughts were a whirlwind of her laughter, her voice, and the way she had looked at him like he wasn’t just some guy tagging along.

Lando unlocked the car and climbed into the driver’s seat. As Oscar slid into the passenger side, Lando glanced over at him with a smirk.

“You’ve got that look,” Lando teased.

“What look?” Oscar frowned.

“The ‘I’m completely smitten’ look,” Lando said, leaning back in his seat with a laugh. “Don’t even try to deny it.”

Oscar groaned, tipping his head back against the seat. “I’m not smitten.”

“Sure, mate. Whatever you say.” Lando started the engine, but before pulling out, he added casually, “Just so you know, she has a boyfriend.”

Oscar blinked, the words hitting him like a splash of cold water. He sat up straight, turning to look at Lando. “What?”

“Yeah, some actor guy. Been together for a while,” Lando said, his tone nonchalant as if he hadn’t just crushed Oscar’s very fragile, very unexpected hopes. “She doesn’t talk about him much, though. Likes to keep it private.”

Oscar stared out the window, a strange mix of relief and disappointment settling in his chest. Relief, because it meant YN’s warmth and attention toward him had been nothing more than her natural charm. Disappointment, because, well… maybe he had been a little smitten after all.

Lando glanced at him as they drove off, his grin softer now. “Don’t overthink it, mate. She’s just one of those people who makes everyone feel special.”

“Yeah,” Oscar murmured, forcing a small smile. “Guess so.”

But as they merged onto the highway, Oscar couldn’t help replaying the evening in his head. YN might have been unattainable, but she had left an impression he wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

Part 2

[housederiva]

Shadow Dragons Blurb anon - YES that's exactly the one I mean! The little backstory bit when selecting the faction?

Fantastic! (I put the og question in this for anyone else who's confused)

I'm going to break down every part of it because I'm not sure how long you've been playing Dragon Age or how much preexisting lore you know, and I'm wording this like you've never played a DA game before (sorry for any redundancy) Also this is just my take on it so keep that in mind xx

Rook risked everything to liberate the incident people of Tevinter, even though it would anger the ruin elite -> Tevinter was built on and functions upon the back of their slaves' labor. Without it, the empire is nothing. This makes the Shadow Dragons as a concept and an organization a threat to the empire's power

The foundling Rook was adopted into a military family and joined the Shadow Dragons to fight from the shadows for change in Minrathous. -> A foundling is someone who was abandoned as an infant or a very young child and then cared for by the people who found them (which gives the 4 race options an explanation as to why they're in the city...or at least the player the ability to infer one themselves) Minrathous is the capital and largest city in Tevinter and where all the big decisions get made. The military aspect of the Mercar family to me implies Rook's adopted family are Soporati, which is one of the lower classes in Tevinter - members of this class often serve in the military. (The family's rank would be higher if any of them are mages, how many generations of mages the Mercars' have would raise the rank even higher. Personally, I'm interested in what happens if you play as a mage Rook and if no other Mercar has magic and if any of them will be seen outside my AO3)

While guarding a visiting dignitary who was investigating a slavery ring in the nearby city of Nessus, Rook concluded that the mission would fail without throwing caution to the wind. -> Rook was on a job for the Shadow Dragons where they were ment to act as a bodyguard for an unknown man of high rank (my fingers are crossed that it was Dorian) I believe Nessus is a typo and it's supposed to be Nessum, the city featured in Absolution. Whoever the dignitary was, he wasn't able to get the information he needed to uncover/stop the slave ring one way or another so Rook overstepped themselves, disobeying orders to just guard the dignitary to get him to the information he needed by putting him in danger

Alone, they snuck the dignitary deep into Venatori-controlled zones and brought him back, along with the rescued slaves. -> Venatori are blood magic and red lyrium (both not good) using mages which are rotting Tevinter from the top down, They're the main antagonistic force against everything the Shadow Dragons stand for. So, not only did Rook disobey their orders, they led this important official through very dangerous spaces that, if they had gotten caught, would have gotten both of them killed and compromise a part of if not all of their faction. However, the risk of getting the dignitary closer to the ring paid off and every slave was freed, and the dignitary was returned unharmed

These actions brought Rook to the Venatori's attention, and the Shadow Dragons decided to keep Rook out of sight. -> Rook's on a shit list now. The opposition knows what they look like/who they are and has been effectively taken from the shadows and put under a spotlight. I'm assuming the Viper, the leader of the Shadow Dragons, made the call to shelve Rook so no other job would be compromised by them being recognized

[scripted-borscht]

Why do I think agathario are well and happy, and why should you think so, too—a comprehensive analysis presented in three acts, supported by scientific evidence.

Or…What if I examined agathario through the lens of quantum mechanics and described it in transparent human language.

Now on AO3 for your convenience.

Act I: Pre-canon.

As we know, Agatha was born during the peak of the witchcraft era in Salem. The concentration of energy within that egregore was so intense that it required something to balance and offload it. This is where Agatha steps into the spotlight; her succubus powers have always been intended as a tool for energy balance.

Let's pause for a moment to explore Agatha's origins more closely. With witches' growing power during that era, the need for a stabilizer became apparent; however, no creature of such nature existed yet. The recipe was clear—a robust vessel designed to securely harness that immense energy within, a vessel that would hold the power to suck out the lives of those who exploit their abilities. Our theory suggests that death particles were used to create such a vessel, - Agatha. If that were the case, it would indicate that agathario is a prime example of quantum entanglement.

Energy generates energy, and every action sets off a chain reaction. As Agatha used her powers more frequently, she became increasingly empowered, eventually reaching a point where stopping was impossible. The overflow of such potent energy within one individual would have undoubtedly destroyed them, eliminating the possibility of that balance tool concept. So, while Agatha balanced the energy of her surroundings, it was necessary to introduce something that would've helped her maintain her own equilibrium.

This is where Death makes an entrance. What could possibly serve as a more fitting counterpart to balance the immense power of such a vessel as Agatha Harkness than a celestial being? Rio was gradually draining the overstock energy within Agatha with every interaction they shared. Everything in the terrestrial space is energy waves; every time you think, speak, move, or feel—especially feel—you transmit energy. Rio was vital for Agatha, she was channeling that extra energy, which allowed Agatha to stay alive. In essence, Rio served as a life support system for Agatha, which becomes more apparent when viewed through the lens of 'Out of Death - Life.' In simpler terms, Rio was draining Agatha's life force so that Agatha could keep balancing the energy field. Their bond grew stronger, eventually becoming imperishable. Feel free to call it "they fell in love" or call them "soulmates" if that resonates with you.

Act II: Canon.

Agatha. Evanora, a formidable witch, instinctively felt that the fetus was something more—something else—something beyond the ordinary realm of life. In 17th-century Salem, education had yet to embrace physics, which was just beginning to emerge as a science. This limited perspective led her to misinterpret the situation, viewing it through the prevalent beliefs of the time and, unfortunately, labeling it as evil. Agatha was never meant to embody evil; instead, humanity labels anything related to death as such, and that perspective is entirely understandable.

As soon as Agatha is born, Evanora is resolutely committed to killing that evil, and, as expected, Death appears at the scene. The moment Rio lays eyes on Agatha, she feels an undeniable connection, realizing they share a unique bond—two halves of a remarkable whole destined to unite and share an extraordinary journey together. So, Death doesn't take the child that night. Instead, Rio intends to empower Agatha to thrive independently by equipping her with essential practical magic skills. As they go through the experience together, they become closer and naturally develop feelings for each other.

Nicky. Any energy can be transported from one location to another by leveraging the principles of quantum entanglement. Because the state of one particle is instantly correlated with the state of another, regardless of the distance between them, it is possible to transfer energy through terrestrial channels without physically moving the energy itself across that distance and without limitations. The concept of zero-point energy proposes that a vacuum state contains minimum energy, which can be manipulated through entanglement.

Agathario represents quantum entanglement, with a vast amount of unutilized energy between them, the extra energy Rio drains from Agatha. All energy must be recycled on the celestial frequency, so it's only logical that the surplus, entering into the reaction with agathario's love for one another, has naturally formed a new life. It is a fact that Nicky was brought to life without the use of any spell or incantation, which makes the creation even more remarkable. He was created by implementing a quantum energy teleportation protocol. Fandom likes to joke that Rio is the father, and it is true, in a way.

However, let's not forget that Rio is a cosmic being coded to take life, so essentially, Nicky is a quantum paradox. He was not supposed to happen. Hence, he couldn't stay on the terrestrial frequency as it would unbalance the natural order.

The Darkhold. Dark magic is a concept without basis. All magic is energy, and energy itself is neutral. However, the Darkhold housed formidable spells, endowing the book with a profound influence over mortals. We know Newton's second law states that the acceleration produced in the body is directly proportional to the external force applied to it. Without external force, the body cannot accelerate. Now, if we consider the contents of the Darkhold as an external force and apply it to the surrounding matter, the book would become animated. This doesn't mean it becomes a living object that can move or interact on its own, but rather that it would possess energy that could affect and respond to anyone who interacts with it. The energy field of the Darkhold was all-consuming; it devoured everything in its vicinity. It also possessed the ability to form a bond with its users, resonate with them, and create some kind of connection.

After Agatha declared her animosity towards Rio, the latter took deliberate steps to ensure Agatha would undeniably possess the Darkhold. As Rio could no longer be around, the book was meant to replicate her effect on Agatha by absorbing the excess energy. The temporary solution was effective until Wanda destroyed all copies of the Darkhold, forcing agathario to revert to the original arrangement. Rio seeks out Agatha right after the Darkhold vanishes, determined to restore her crucial role as Agatha's life support.

Act III: Post-canon. Ghost. What is a ghost, exactly. And why does Rio hate ghosts.

A ghost is an unphysical state in the context of gauge theory. Gauge theory asserts that any reference point remains constant, even if the measurement changes. In simpler terms, it's like when two things appear different, but in essence, they are the same. Therefore, Agatha becoming a ghost does not change her identity; she remains Agatha, just in a non-physical state. Ghost particles are "frozen" in time and space and exist on the border of two frequencies, celestial and terrestrial, making them immune to energy recycling processes. In terms of interaction, ghosts are more aligned with celestial frequencies than terrestrial ones. As a ghost field represents an energy state, interaction on the celestial plane is possible since its essence lies in aether and not in physical matter. Therefore, terrestrial frequency turns out to be challenging for a ghost as it cannot interact with objects physically due to the lack of a physical form.

So, why does Rio hate ghosts. It's quite simple, really. The in-between-two-frequencies realm is the frequency that Rio primarily occupies. Although she is a cosmic entity whose natural habitat is the celestial frequency, her role is to guide energy toward its recycling, which means her "office hours" are spent on the border between realms. Now, It is true that a person becomes a ghost due to unresolved issues, and their energy seeks to complete a cycle before being recycled. When a person dies, they may initially not realize it, trying to act as they normally would. However, they cannot, as they are now in an unphysical state. So, all these confused former humans float around on the same frequency as Rio, trying to figure out what is happening. This situation can definitely be annoying; Rio has a valid point. Furthermore, it adds significant complexity to her role as Death.

Agatha is exceptional, however. First, she has never been just an ordinary human. Second, she possesses enough knowledge to understand what is happening. Third, well, she is Agatha. Agatha becoming a ghost actually benefits agathario significantly. She gains immunity to energy recycling, which allows her to maintain the form that Rio is bound to and loves deeply. They are now on the same frequency, and Rio no longer needs to cross dimensions in order to be near Agatha. Additionally, Agatha is now able to continue her essential work of balancing energies within the witches' egregore, all while encountering fewer risks. Obviously, at first, they would undoubtedly miss the physical aspect of their relationship, particularly sexual intercourse. However, they would come to appreciate and connect with each other on deeper levels, which could be much more fulfilling and enjoyable than mere physical touch.

Bonus: After eons of dedicated service to the Universe, Agatha would be rewarded with a permanent position among cosmic entities as the force of balance. She and Rio would become true equals in every aspect of existence. They would have all of eternity to spend together, work and play:)

That's all, folks! I appreciate everyone who made it to the end. Thank you for taking a moment of your life to read this, and thank you for your interest:)

[ekat-fandom-blog]

Mythical au

Alfred had been the guardian angel of the Wayne family for many centuries. He'd been worried that he'd be forced to watch over a different family after Bruce died, but luckily he'd decided to take in Dick then Jason then a whole slew of children after and he didn't worry about being taken from his family for decades at a time. There would be challenges, he knew, but nothing he wouldn't do for his family.

When Bruce brought home two half dead children, Alfred knew that they were going to be a permanent fixture in the family's lives even if Bruce insisted that he was only fostering them until their aunt could safely take them in.

↓ more ideas ↓

Alfred Guardian angel - has a human form, minor healing powers, minor precognition concerning their charges He's the guardian of the Wayne family and upon his "death" he'll go visit his previous charges. After a few years in heaven, he'll choose a new form and come back to Earth. Knows what species his wards are almost immediately, but tries not to say anything as it's typically considered rude to talk about someone else's species without them saying something first. He isn't aware that some of his charges have no clue they're anything other than human.

Bruce Human No one but Alfred, his teammates, and his children believe Batman is human. No one thinks Brucie could be anything but human. His kids have a running joke that he's not actually human.

Dick Selkie - seal that can turn into a human, in human form they have a coat, if a human steals said coat they can force the selkie to do whatever they want, can be vengeful and dangerous, are normally friendly helpful and attractive. He takes many precautions to hide his coat from everyone. He sometimes sneaks to the pool in the mansion to swim. Bruce didn't know for a few months. Jason didn't find out until before Ethiopia. Tim figured it out after one month. Damian didn't know until Dick decided that Damian wouldn't use his coat against him.

Jason Wraith - steals/hoards souls, holds grudges, targets those who've wronged them until they've captured their soul and can force them to wander outside of the spirit world for eternity. He became a wraith after being resurrected and is very vaguely aware of being one. He's definitely collecting and hoarding souls, but has no idea what to do with the souls he collects. His ultimate goal is to collect Joker's soul and force him to wander aimlessly for eternity. He absent mindedly tries to take any ghosts for his hoard whenever he zones out around them. The magic community and ghost community are aware of this very-much-alive wraith and have mixed feelings about it, but the overall consensus is that it's a bit funny. His family - except Alfred, Danny, and Dani - don't know.

Tim Sphinx - smart, guardian, can prophesy, ferocious, generous, merciful He doesn't know he's a sphinx. He gets glimpses of the future but doesn't normally say anything to warrant anyone becoming suspicious of him having prophetic dreams. If he was aware he was a sphinx, he'd be able to tap into his true form and become stronger, faster, and better at controlling his prophetic ability.

Damian Imp - crafty and mischievous demons with minor magical abilities and a craving for the spotlight, typically garners attention from those who want to enslave them, born pranksters, impulsive, good at shapeshifting and conjuring fire He's very unaware that he's an imp. Talia is also unaware. Ra's is aware and hiding the fact that they're imps.

Danny Halfa He's very confused about Jason being a fully alive ghost (almost, kinda). He does think it's funny when (in ghost form) Jason tries to add him to his hoard of souls when he's sleepy or absent minded.

Dani Will-o-wisp halfa - mischievous, sometimes they're reported to have led people away from their deaths and sometimes they are reported to be the cause of people's death mostly due to causing confusion in said people. Dani's aware of being a will-o-wisp, seeing as she shines brighter than Danny and has a propensity for wandering and mischief. Also, she was told about being a wisp by a wisp while traveling. She also thinks it's funny when Jason tries to add her and Danny to his soul hoard when he's sleepy or absent minded (when they're in ghost form of course, he doesn't react when they're in human form).