#i want to be adopted by them god bless

[sleepy-bear-tm]

"Reinhardt, I must say you're looking quite well. This life must agree with you."

"And you are looking as lovely as ever."

[55szn]

good luck - mv1

max verstappen x fem!reader smau

summary when max and y/n adopt a black cat and everyone thinks it’s bringing him bad luck, they are determined to prove them wrong

warnings none i think

fc various girls from pinterest

notes requested!💘 loved this so muchhajska (excuse my poor editing skills on this one lol)

INSTAGRAM

yourusername just uploaded to their story!

[new child just dropped, everyone say hi to mocha🐾][same mocha, same @ maxverstappen1]

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 819.718 others

maxverstappen1 not having the season we expected, lots of work ahead.😑

view all 6.189 comments

yourusername ❤️ liked by maxverstappen1

user male acting performance where he’s having the worst day of his life but looks so hot doing it:

user girlsnjasfkja😭

user i’m being so serious rn you HAVE to give that cat to someone else

user first dnf i laughed… second dnf i serioused

user dw i played the dutch anthem at home for you king🧡🧡

user IT’S OKAY POOKIE YOU ARE GONNA WIN ALL OTHER RACES😖😖😖

user not if he doesn’t get rid of that cat lol

maxverstappen1 just uploaded to their story!

[😍🐈‍⬛ @ yourusername] [when the cat steals your gf😑]

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 102.189 more

yourusername certified dilf‼️

tagged maxverstappen1

view all 3.578 comments

maxverstappen1 the last pic??

yourusername gave me dad vibes idk

user so true

user what are the odds of max getting a black cat and immediately starting to get bad results

user ikr

user just a coincidence 🤷‍♀️

user one time thing is a coincidence, two dnfs in a row and then not being able to get a single win in many races… sounds like “black cat curse” to me sorry

user get rid of the cat if you want him to win the championship i’m BEGGING🙏🏻🙏🏻😫😫

user you guys are so ridiculous

user mocha with the max plush omgggggg i might die🥹🥹🥹🥹

user idc what anyone says he is gonna win the championship again and mocha will be forgiven you read it here first

user cat crazy lady + cat crazy dude = perfect match💘

FEW MONTHS LATER

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername just uploaded to their story!

[4x world champion🥹🧡 i love you so much @ maxverstappen1] [beyond proud🦁🫶🏻]

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 201.179 others

yourusername black cat bring good luck 😺 not bad luck 😾 so so proud of you maxie🧡

tagged maxverstappen1

view all 5.872 comments

maxverstappen1 my girls🫶🏻🥰

maxverstappen1 love you❤️

yourusername love you more dilf💘

user just unserious as fuck😭😭

user max calling the cat and yn “his girls” like mocha is his daughter or smth😭

user she is his daughter wdym

redbullracing what an adorable lucky charm😺🍀

yourusername you know it🫡

user queen 🙏🏻

user I KNOW WHO MY GOAT IS🐐🐐 (mocha)

user mocha redemption arc ohhh i’ve been waiting for this one

user FR I ALWAYS BELIEVED IN YOU MOCHA😫

user THEY GOT MOCHA A PADDOCK PASS IM CRYINGGG

user always blessing us with the best max pictures thank u mother🥹

user please god i also want to raise a black kitty with my incredibly hot bf😔😔

user oh to be mocha…

user you don’t understand this lil family is EVERYTHING to me☹️☹️

[ramshacklefey]

It's amazing to me just how good the Mormon church has been at hiding just how bad they really are from public view. Even the shit that gets spread around is the relatively harmless bullshit. They had a crazy prophet with magic glasses. They believe in god-mandated polygyny. They think everyone who is good enough will get their very own planet after the world ends. They wear magic underpants. Mormon men are all paladins.

Here's one of the ones you hear less often:

See, like many other Christian sects, the Mormons really do believe that the existence of Christ obviates the existence of Judaism. Judaism was just a placeholder until the "real" church could be established by Jesus.

And the Mormons in particular believe, dead ass, that the entire inheritance of Israel has been given to them, because the Jews failed to recognize the Messiah when he was on Earth. They really do. They have this whole system where people are given a "divine revelation" about which of the Tribes of Israel they're a member of (don't worry, they decided that most people belong to the two tribes that are willing to "adopt" people. Only the most specialest boys and girls are members of the original ten).

Let's sum up so far. The Mormons believe that they are the people of Israel, chosen and protected by God. If Jews want to get back in on that party, they can always repent and convert to Mormonism, the one true church to which God gave all the rights and blessings that were originally bestowed on Abraham's house.

But it doesn't stop there!

The Mormons also believe, in all seriousness, that all Indigenous peoples of the Americas are descended from a small group of Jewish people who left just before the fall of Jerusalem (~600 bc iirc). Their entire weird-ass extra bible is a chronicle of those people's history in [unspecific part of America]. At the very beginning of the book, two brothers in the original family turn away from god, so they and all their descendants are cursed with dark skin, so that the good Nephites (who remain "white and delightsome") will always be able to tell themselves apart from the wicked Lamanites.

So, you've got supposedly Jewish people running around the Americas. And the "good" ones are white, and the "bad" ones are brown. Then, ofc, Jesus comes to visit them (I guess supposedly that's part of what he was doing during his dirt nap? Or possibly after he left again, it's not clear), and they all convert to Christianity, which they think is clearly the natural evolution of Judaism. Well, at the end of the book, all of them become wicked, in a kind of weird pseudo-apocalyptic series of events. They are all cursed with dark skin, until such time as they repent for their ancestors sins and return to the gospel.

But of course, Mormons being the good and kind people they are, they want everyone to receive the blessings of God and be brought into the houses of Israel etc etc. And it isn't the fault of those poor little Indigenous children that their distant ancestors turned away from God and became wicked.

So what's the natural answer? Well, Mormons are real big on missionary work, as we all know. But apparently that wasn't enough in this case.

Because the Mormon church has been one of the big players in abducting as many Indigenous children as possible, in order to indoctrinate them into being good Mormons, so that they can turn white again and be blessed. My mother remembers hearing talks about this in the 70s and 80s. The church literally had a "Lamanite Adoption Program," where families in the church were encouraged to get as many Indigenous children as possible away from their families and not let them be reunited until they were fully assimilated and ready to go back and proselytize about how wonderful the church is.

The church leadership literally talked about how wonderful it was to see these children becoming whiter. Actually whiter. Like, saying that when they finally saw them with their families again, it was beautiful how much paler they were.

I'm pretty sure this program has been officially ended, but it doesn't take a genius to speculate about who might be behind the curtains on the movement in the western US to gut the ICWA....

So yeah. Next time someone tries to tell you that the Mormons are just harmless weirdos, please remember that they're an antisemitic cult that advocates for the forced assimilation of Indigenous children to help them escape the cursed brown skin of their ancestors.

[universalitgirlsblog2]

🩷🌸PROTECT YOUR ENERGY🌸🩷

🩷🌸Your energy is sacred and precious. It is so important to protect, cherish and nourish your energy in this chaotic world. Stop giving away your energy as if it is not valuable and precious currency. Do not give away your energy to mindlessly consuming things on the internet or to other people. Stop being always available. Not everything or everyone needs our response🩷🌸

🩷DO NOT DWELL ON THE NEGATIVE

Stop giving your energy and attention to things you do not want to see. Focus on the positive things , shift from complaining to gratitude. You can also repeat the mantra -

" I am now through my sovereign divine right calling back my power and my energy from all the people , places and past events where I have given my energy away consciously or unconsciously where my energy has been taken without my consent or with my consent. I call back my energy now . "

🌸SET BOUNDARIES

Boundaries are more about you than other people. If you have a diamond at home , you will protect it , right ? Similarly, your energy is ad precious and valuable as a diamond. Protect it. I made a post on summary of Tam Kaur video on boundaries. I would suggest you to read it. Click me !!!

🩷SELF-CARE

Make self-care your daily ritual. Workout , Meditate , Do Yoga , Mirrorwork , listen to Guided meditation and do breath-work. These things work miraculously. It is the little things that matter.

🌸BE MINDFUL

Be mindful of what you consume. On social media , there are people who feed on negativity . On youtube , you may find some youtubers who love to feed on negativity and offend people to get views and engagement. Please do not waste your time watching those youtubers , watch youtubers who inspire you , it can be the wizard liz , if you want to take inspiration for mindset or it can be a productive vlog . Anything which will inspire you and help you to level up in your life. I would recommend you to check out these two posts where I mentioned youtubers who can help you to be motivated and productive - click me and click me !! Unfollow influencer or celebrities you do not like , give you bad vibes or make you feel insecure. Follow content which will motivate and educate you. Do not engage in a conversation with toxic people. Let them be. Limit your exposure to negative influences. Do not be friends with anyone , not everyone deserves your attention and energy.

🩷DO NOT TAKE ANYTHING PERSONALLY

It is never personal. Whatever people say about you , it is not about you. It is a reflection about them .

🌸CLEAN YOUR SELF-TALK

You do not have to believe everything you think. You have the right to choose what you believe. Write down your negative thoughts and switch them with positive ones.

I cannot do this -- I can do anything I put my mind into .

No one believes in me --- I believe in myself and that is enough.

🩷TAKE A BREAK

Stop mindlessly scrolling . Take a break from social media. Social media can be extremely draining. Put a time limit on social media. Be as intentional you can be about the media you consume. Follow positive influencers which will motivate and educate you.

🌸GRATITUDE

" A grateful heart is a magnet for miracles ".

When was the last time you were truly grateful for what you have ? Here is a small thing you need to do - before going to bed , think about the five things you are grateful for.Thank God or Universe for the blessings. Shift your focus from complaining to gratitude.

🩷FIND HEALTHY COPING MECHANISMS

Over-eating , smoking or drowning yourself in alcohol to numb your emotions will not heal you. Be courageous enough to deal with your emotions. Journal your emotions , do shadow work , meditate , cry or exercise. Adopt healthy coping mechanisms , they will help you in future too.

🌸CHOOSE YOURSELF

Choose yourself. Put yourself first.Be your own best friend. Be your biggest fan. Put your needs and wants first. You can never leave you , you will always be there for yourself.

🩷UNDERSTAND WHEN YOUR THOUGHTS ARE NOT YOURS.

Sometimes our thoughts do not belong to us , they belong to some comment we read on internet . Ask yourself- " Are these really my thoughts ? " . If the answer is no , do not entertain those thoughts and let them go.

🌸🩷That is all for today. I hope this post helped you. Do not just read and like this post , apply the tips too ! Please protect your energy , it is precious , so are you !!!!🩷🌸

[zepskies]

Every Second Counts - Part 1

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the first one you trust to help you find him. 

AN: Finally, here we are at Part 1! Remember that A Line and a Half functions as our prologue here.

Word Count: 5.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for some mature thoughts. Fluff, angst and hurt/comfort, drug use, mentions of drug addiction and alcoholism, skeevy men, and a tinge of spice.~

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 1: "Permission Granted"

“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked, with your hands on your hips. 

You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friend’s office, still at the Wyoming University campus after your last class.

Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.

“Yes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,” she said.

After brushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, she went to you and set her hands on your shoulders.

“You have my blessing,” she said. “All I ask is that you don’t scar me with any gushy details afterward.” 

Your face began to heat up in a blush. You crossed your arms.

“All right, no one said there was going to be any of that,” you replied. “It’s just a date. Barely a date, mind you.”

“A-huh,” Dory said with a sneaking smile. “Out of curiosity, what was it about him that hooked you? You’ve been dodging Chris’s valiant attempts for like a month now.”

Chris was a French and Spanish professor. His office was on the same floor as yours, so you two occasionally crossed paths whenever you ventured into the teacher’s lounge.

He usually caught you in the morning while you were grabbing your free coffee fix at the Keurig. He’d chat you up about his classes and his dog and his new boat, and all the while you’d struggle to get a word in edgewise. Despite that, he was good-looking and pleasant, for the most part. It was just…

“I don’t know. He’s not my type, I guess,” you shrugged. You kind of liked conversations where both people got to speak.

“And Russell is?” Dory said, in a teasing tone. You chewed the inside of your lip, fighting a smile.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Kind of want to find out though.”

“Okay, well, let me know what you find,” Dory said, more wryly. You caught a bit of melancholy when her gaze drifted off. Your brows furrowed in concern as you drew closer, setting a hand on her arm.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

She was hesitant, but she eventually answered you with a confession.

“You know, it’s been about twenty years since I’ve seen him,” she said. “We’ve had entire lives already. I see him now, and there’s some of the Russell I knew when we were kids, but…there’s just a lot I don’t know about him, who he’s become.”

You could understand that. You squeezed her arm in sympathy.

“Well, he really seems to want to know you now,” you said. You remembered all the questions he asked you when he helped you carry your files back to your office after lunch today—most of them about Dory, about her career, your friendship, and ultimately, if she was happy.

“What happened to you guys?” you asked. “Why are you all so distant? Colter included.”

Dory’s face tightened. “It’s a long story. I’ve told you some of it. But basically, after our dad died, nothing was ever the same again.”

You dimmed at that. You knew their mother still lived in the cabin they grew up in, but Dory had never quite been able to tell you what happened to their dad. You’d never pushed the subject. You knew better than anyone what kind of pain that was. 

“I just wish we’d been able to stay with each other. Me and my brothers, at least,” Dory said. But she adopted a smile for you, before she returned to her desk.

“Okay. Go on your non-date at your favorite bar with Russell. I’ll be here, grading papers until Judgment Day,” she said, with a small laugh that felt like a coverup for thoughts she no longer wanted to think about.

You let her do it. You grabbed your purse and work bag off the spare chair in front of her desk.

“So you’re sure,” you wanted to confirm. “One last chance for me to tell him I came down with food poisoning.”

Dory collected her stack of midterm papers and gave you a cheeky look that said, class dismissed. Then she clicked her red pen and pointedly looked down at the first batch of papers to read through.

You smiled. Okay, you thought, giving her a little wave goodbye when you turned to leave. You had just a couple of hours to drive home and get ready to meet Russell.

“Goodnight,” you called.

“Goodniiight,” Dory replied.

You heard the smirk in her voice without even having to look back.

After fighting through rush hour traffic, you were exhausted when you got home from work. Your tentative excitement and nerves about tonight gave you some new energy though, even if you thought those nerves were silly to have.

Barely a date, you reminded yourself, as you unlocked the door to your house. Barely a date, barely a date.

The Ring Camera beside the door chimed when you entered the house, signaling your arrival. You had to wrinkle your nose at the dank-ass smell that greeted you.

Frowning in annoyance, you dropped your stuff on the kitchen table for now and shucked off your heels. You made a beeline down the hall, to the bedroom that lied across from yours. You pushed it open without knocking. There you caught your older brother, Charlie, snoozing in his bed with the covers half pooling on the floor.

His room was a mess, as usual. Your gaze locked on the evidence of half a blunt on his nightstand and two smoked roaches beside it. You were glad it wasn’t remnants of white lines of powder, like times before, but there was also a large bottle of whiskey. It was almost empty, and hanging loosely from his hand.

He managed to raise his head a bit when you came in.

“Hey,” he said, blinking bleary eyes. He cleared his throat and tried to sit up.

You shook your head and picked around piles of dirty clothes and a couple of used paper plates on the floor. You swiftly grabbed the bottle from his hand and slammed it on the nightstand.

“You promised me, Charlie,” you snapped. “You promised me for the hundredth time that you’d quit all this shit. Where even were you last night? You weren’t home when I left for work this morning.”

He sighed, frowning at how loud you were, and sat up in bed. He swung his legs over the side and held his swimming head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. He ran a hand through his hair. It was nearly black, like Dad’s had been, but he’d inherited Mom’s lighter eyes.

“I got invited to a party,” he said. “I’m sorry, I know. This is the last time.”

You expelled a frustrated breath and shook your head.

“You’re a grown fucking man, Charlie! Do you really need me to give you the just say no speech?” you said. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times I can say it,” he said. He shut his eyes tight, probably trying to fend off a headache. 

Good, you thought. Let that be a reminder of how bad he’d screwed up again. 

“And while we’re at it, what about your half of the bills? You’re a week late,” you said, testily crossing your arms.

“Yeah, I’m a little behind,” he said. Once again, he cleared his throat past a wad of phlegm. He was still a bit crossfaded too, you could tell. “You know they cut my hours to part-time at the museum. I’ve, uh, I’ve been looking into getting another job—”

“I already paid the phone bill. And the internet, the water bill, the electricity,” you said. “The house may be paid off, but the least you can do is pay your half of living here.”

The longer you stared at him, seeing the guilt hidden behind drunken eyes, you realized he wasn’t just late on his half of the bills.

“How much?” you asked.

He frowned up at you. “What?”

“How much do you owe?” you said. Your voice was as cutting as your gaze. Charlie lowered his.  

“It’s okay, don’t worry—”

“How much,” you pressed.

He looked up at you again, this time with pursed lips. After a beat, he sighed and gave in.

“About two grand,” he admitted.

You raised your eyes heavenward, muttering a curse. Your hands went to your temples as you had to pace the room. You were angry and exasperated in equal measure.

“Who the fuck do you owe two grand?!” you asked.

Charlie shook his head. “It’s better that I don’t tell you that.”

You paused. As you looked down at him, your anger dissolved into sadness, like it always did.

“If Mom and Dad could see you now, they wouldn’t recognize you,” you said.

Charlie fought not to react to that, his brows furrowing. Instead, he just looked down, unable to answer you.

“Charlie, you need help. I can’t keep doing this with you,” you said. Your shaky breath gave way to the burn of tears.  

His red-rimmed eyes became glassy as well.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said.

He was always sorry. And you always had to be the one to nurse him back to health, pick up the pieces, pay the bills. You were exhausted. The bone-deep kind of tired that felt like gravity wasn't so much keeping you down, but pushing you.

“I’m going to ask for two things: do what you need to do to get paid, and clean up your shit. If you can’t accomplish that, then I’m taking you to rehab,” you said.

“You know I’ve tried that,” Charlie said, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Didn’t really work for me.”

“You left the program after two weeks!” you retorted.

“I did it on my own! I’ve been clean for months,” he argued.

“And what happened? You go to one party and all your good sense, all your training, mentally and physically—that all goes out the window?” you said. You had half a mind not to believe him.

“Yeah well, maybe just for one night, I wanted to relax without you harping on my back,” he said, glaring up at you. “Is that too much to fucking ask? For you to give me some goddamn slack?”

Your mouth fell open incredulously.  

“I’m on your back?” you said. “Okay. I’ll get off. Do whatever the hell you want, Charlie. I’m done.”

You left his room in an angry huff. You headed over to your room so you could take a shower and start getting ready to meet Russell at Howley’s. 

By the time you got to your bedroom, you heard the front door slam closed.

The truth was, you were no longer in a mood to have fun when you pulled up to Howley’s, but you needed to escape your house. Also, you weren’t someone who canceled on people last-minute, especially not on Dory’s own brother.

You found Russell waiting for you at the bar. He waved to you with a fifth of whiskey in hand and an easy grin. He’d saved you a seat beside him.

You found yourself smiling. Your mood began to lighten as you went over to him. He looked more or less the same, but this time the jacket and jeans combo was navy blue and dark wash, respectively. His hair was swept back, lightly gelled. You smelled the familiar, rich woodiness of his cologne when you drew near, along with a hint of spicy soap.

“Hey, there.” He greeted you with a warm hand on your back. He helped you into your seat.

“Hey, yourself,” you replied, and thanked him for the assist onto the tall stool. You’d opted for jeans and a blouse, paired with your favorite leather boots. It was less dressy than he’d seen you before, but that was “work mode.” This was a more casual affair, even if you’d spent at least twenty extra minutes on your makeup.

You were glad he picked a spot at the end of the bar though. It put some distance from the group of guys getting rowdy as they cheered at the football game playing on the TV.

“How was the rest of your day, Professor?” he asked. “And what’re you wanting to drink?”

You let out a long sigh and turned toward him, resting your elbow on the counter.

“Awesome. I’m going to need two shots of tequila and an order of something fried, and preferably covered with cheese, please,” you replied.

Russell’s grin deepened. “Okay, I’m thinking ‘awesome’ is code for something. But we can get started on that order of Forget Today’s Unfortunate Events.”

He flagged down the bartender with a raise of his hand, but he shot you a glance.

“Though I’m hoping it’s not all of today that you wanna forget,” he said.

Your lips threatened another smile, as the memory of your hand being swept up into his, and soft lips meeting the back of your hand filtered through your mind.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s possible,” you said.

After about ten minutes of playfully debating the appetizer menu (you swore by the pretzel and beer cheese, but Russell had his eye on those spicy wings), he finally settled on ordering both.

“When in doubt, don’t go without,” he’d remarked.

You swept a pretty coil of hair over your shoulder and downed your tequila shots with a lime wedge. Meanwhile, Russell tried not to linger his eyes on the way your tongue swept over your finger to catch a drop of lime juice. Your nails were manicured, and the shade of the polish matched your lipstick.

Russell didn’t pretend to know the art and science of a woman’s wardrobe, but everything about you was thought out, it seemed, falling in line with what he’d expect from a (sexy as all hell) college professor. You’d also told him at lunch today that as of last year, you now had two doctorates: History and Ancient Studies.

Even with all that under your belt, you also seemed refreshingly down-to-earth, a lot like Dory in that sense. He could see why you two were friends.

“So, are you from here, or are you a transplant, like my sister?” he asked.

Dory hadn’t come to live in Wyoming until their aunt and uncle took her in, when she was about eight years old. Before last month, Russell hadn’t seen her since. It hurt his heart to think about, but he tried to focus on you.

You now seemed to be staring a bit listlessly at the glass of whiskey in his hands. He laid a hand on your arm and called your name.

“Hmm?” Your brows rose as you blinked to attention. “Oh! I’m sorry. Yes, I’ve lived here pretty much forever.”

“You okay?” Russell asked. “Tequila hit ya a little hard?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m sorry…”

You raised your hands up to your temples. You debated whether you wanted to open up about this, but…considering who Russell was, you thought he might just understand.

“Dory told me you’ve been trying to reconnect with your brother, right? Colter?” you said.

Russell nodded. He wasn’t sure how much Dory told you about their family business, but it dimmed his mood.

“Well, you could say I’ve got a brother issue of my own,” you said, laughing humorlessly. “You don’t have to talk about yours, but maybe you’ll understand… My brother is a veteran too. He was a Captain, air force pilot. He fought in Afghanistan, mainly.”

Russell processed that with a nod. “Yeah, I was there too. Special Ops.”

“Wow, okay. Then you know what it was like for him, coming back home,” you said. Your gaze fell to your empty shot glasses. “It was hard, after…”

“After?” he prompted.

You sighed. “Near the end, he lost half his unit in a raid, off of some flawed intel.”

Russell’s brows knitted together. Hmm. Grief, survivor’s guilt, feeling like you don’t belong.

He was starting to get a clearer picture of who your brother was. It struck at familiar chords inside himself that he wasn’t so comfortable with. He shifted in his seat, fingers flexing over his glass on the counter.

You didn’t notice, but you did push the shot glasses away from you.

“I helped him the best I could,” you said. “I got him a job at the museum I interned at when I was in undergrad. He’s there as a security guard, but it’s not really enough, you know? It’s like, nothing satisfies him. I just…I don’t think I know how to help him anymore.”

You couldn’t help it. Emotion bubbled in your throat, making it close up on you as tears stung in your eyes. Your lower lip wobbled, and you tried to turn your face away. Embarrassment coiled up in your chest and made your face hot.

You felt a hand cover yours on your thigh, squeezing warmly. You looked up and met Russell’s gaze, both sympathetic and understanding.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, trying to calm your shuddering breath. “This isn’t exactly first date material. I can’t believe I unloaded on you like that.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “Believe me, I get what your brother’s going through.”

He pushed the plate with the last piece of soft-baked pretzel over to you.

“You finish that if you want, then you go ahead and pick something else off the menu. I won’t even argue with you this time,” he promised with a grin.

It got you to laugh, at least, and he gave you a napkin for your tears.

God, get it together, you told yourself. You’re a damn mess.

“Thanks,” you said. You managed to smile as you blotted at one corner of your eye. You hoped you hadn’t just irreversibly smudged your mascara.

Russell surprised you by brushing his thumb against your other cheek, wiping a stray tear away. Your face began to warm with a blush.

“Again, I’m sorry for dumping on you. We had a fight right when I got home,” you admitted.

“What’s his name?” Russell asked.

“Charlie.”

“Older or younger than you?”

“Four years older,” you replied. “He enlisted a few years after he graduated high school.”

Russell flickered at a smile. Enlisted, huh?

Yet another thing he and Charlie had in common, except Russell hadn’t made it through high school in the classic sense.

“What do you think?” you asked.

“I think your brother sounds lost right now. I’ve known a lotta guys like him, unfortunately,” Russell admitted. “Walking back into civilian life, it ain’t easy. That I know my damn self. Just like I know a thing or two about being an older brother. He’s probably doing his best to keep it off your shoulders.”

You shook your head at that. Trying, maybe.

You weren’t even sure of that anymore. Still, it made you all the more curious about Russell and his family.

“I know I said I wouldn’t ask this, and you don’t have to answer. But did you and Colter have a falling out or something?” you asked.

Russell expelled a deep breath and took a sip from his glass. How was he supposed to navigate this minefield with you?

“You gotta understand that me, my brother, my sister, we didn’t grow up like a normal family,” he said.

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded. “Dory’s told me some of it. It sounded…rustic.”

He snorted. “Putting it mildly.”

He shook his head and drained the rest of his glass. 

“Well, my brother’s got an idea about me that isn’t true,” he said.

Your head tilted in curiosity. “Which is?”

His lips briefly raised in a wan smile. 

“We don’t gotta get into that one tonight. But uh, the truth is, I’ve tried reaching out to him several times now. He just doesn’t wanna hear from me,” said Russell.

You considered him for a moment. You laid a hand on his arm, covered by his jacket. 

“Don’t give up,” you said, with a sigh of your own. “Despite some things I said to him today, I know I can’t. My brother’s the only real family I have.”

Russell grew curious then. “What about your parents?”

You gave a weak smile.

“They passed away when we were young, but…we don’t have to get into that one tonight,” you said, borrowing his words. 

His expression fell. “Jesus. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you,” you accepted, twisting the napkin around your fingers.

An awkward lull of silence fell between you, until Russell nodded and blew out a breath.

“Well. Heavy, huh?”

You chuckled and rested your head against your hand.

“I know. Again, my fault,” you replied. 

“It’s okay, swee—. Mmm,” he cut himself off, shooting you a knowing glance.

“Were you about to sweetheart me?” you asked playfully, nudging his hand. “You know how I feel about that.”

“No, ma’am. Not at all,” Russell shook his head. His smile gave him away though. You laughed and grabbed his arm.

“Come on,” you said.

He allowed you to lead him out of his seat. He already had a tab open, so he’d settle up with the bar later. “Where we going?”

“You’re gonna lose to me at pool,” you said with a smirk.

Russell laughed and wrapped his arm around your waist instead.

“Oh, okay. I’m gonna give you a run for your money, though,” he promised.

And he was true to his word.

Russell Shaw turned out to be a more than worthy opponent. You studied the board as you changed the angle on your cue stick no less than five times.

“You gonna make a move, or we going to be here all night?” he said.

He was smiling as he leaned against his own cue on the other side of the board. His clever moves had left you in a difficult position to get your three remaining solid-colored balls into the pocket.

“You hush. I’m thinking,” you said, fighting your own smile.

“Careful, you’ve got steam coming out of your ears,” he teased.

You shot him a narrowed look for that. But then you smiled, as the answer came to you. You walked around to his side of the board and nudged him with your hip.

“Excuse me, sir,” you said to him over your shoulder.

Russell made way for you, but his eyes followed the way you bent over to line up your shot. Namely the curve of your ass in those tight jeans. He could see you knew exactly what you were doing, in more ways than one.

You shot your shot. The solid green ball leapt over his white-striped blue one and managed to sink into the pocket. You straightened up and gave him a triumphant little smirk.

He tried to temper his smile (and ignore the way his cock twitched).

“All right, go on, do your little victory lap," he said. "But remember, I let you go first.”

“Like that matters,” you quipped back.

You went back to the other side of the board to line up your next shot. Russell noticed a pair of drunk men ambling your way from the bar, but before he could make a subtle move to put himself in between, one of the men’s gazes slid down your form and gave into the base urge to let out a low whistle.

And he slapped you right on the ass.

You gasped, grabbing hold of the pool table. Then your shock melted into ire.

Russell was already heading toward you with an angry frown of his own, but even he had to stop short, when he watched you throw a punch that cracked the drunken man across the bridge of his nose.

Good form, Russell thought, when the guy reared back with a howl. His nose dripped blood when his hands came away from his face.

His buddy started to raise his hackles, but that was when Russell stepped to your side. He angled himself toward you and loosely gripped his pool cue by his hip, like it was an extension of his arm. He was fully prepared to use it like one.

“Fucking bitch!” said the one who was still dabbing his nose in vain. He glared at you, his eyes watering involuntarily, while his friend tried to keep him upright. You rolled your eyes.

"You're the one who's crying, bitch," you returned. Russell held in a snort. He cleared his throat and looked on at the pair of idiots.

“I’d have a little sit down if I were you,” Russell told them, with a smirk. “Let that be a lesson to ya. And if it don’t stick? Well. Whatever you start, I can damn well finish.”

His steely gaze reinforced the promise of his words. The other men were still angry, but even drunks had some sense of self-preservation. They ambled toward the back of the bar to find another pool table.

Russell focused his attention back on you, finding you looking down at your hand, rotating your wrist and flexing your fingers.

“Well, look at you, slugger,” he said. You met his smile with one of amusement.

“That’s just what I needed tonight. A broken hand,” you quipped.

“Aw, it doesn’t look as bad as all that. But can I see?” he asked. You allowed him to take your smaller hand in his. Your knuckles were red and tender to the touch when he gently pressed. You hissed in pain.

Damn, she really gave it to him, Russell thought.

“Sorry,” he said, but your hand felt fine, at least. More than fine. His gaze flicked up to yours as his amused grin deepened. “Good hit though.”

If he liked you before, he might’ve fallen half in love with you right there.

You laughed through the pain. “Yeah, my brother did teach me something. Shit.”

Russell led you back to the bar after you grabbed your purse. There he called to the bartender for some ice. The guy nodded; he’d seen the entire exchange and was sympathetic.

You knew this sort of thing was just par for the course at this kind of bar, but they had the best drinks. Charlie had to carry you out of here on your twenty-first birthday, drunk off your ass. Not to mention, he’d punched out two handsy dicks that night.

You recounted the story to Russell over a couple more drinks. Your conversation was lighter then, filled with laughter and a warm, companiable feeling. He was still rather evasive about his job, but you supposed he had to be, since it was government contract work.

Private security, mainly. Or so he'd said. This man made you infinitely curious, and a bit apprehensive, if you were honest.

And yet, at some point while you two shared and laughed and split a hot sandwich with another round of beers, you realized it.

I like this, you thought. And I like him.

However, the night had to come to an end sometime. Your third involuntary yawn told Russell it was time to call it.

"I'm okay," you tried.

"Nah, you've gotta work tomorrow," he said. He signaled to the bartender. "Let me go ahead and close out my tab."

“Oh, I can pay for half,” you said, reaching for your purse now hanging from your hip.

“You kidding me? Put that away,” he said, guiding your hand with your wallet aside.

Smiling, you accepted his generosity with a small thank you. Then, you let him take up your sore hand again, just to carefully press the half-melted bag of ice over it.

“Feelin’ better?” he asked.

Your smile became softer. “Yeah.”

You had no doubt that this man, tall as he was, with his broad shoulders and the controlled way he carried himself, could’ve laid both of those drunken assholes onto their asses. His intimidating gaze had promised as much.

But his hands were gentle for you.

“I was about to win that game, no contest!” you said, laughing as you and Russell headed out of the bar and into the parking lot.

“Hey, hey, I still had time to win it back,” he argued. “I only had three more balls to go. I could’ve sunk that with my eyes closed.”

“Three balls, huh?” you said slyly, and maybe, a little tipsy. “Might wanna get that looked at.”

Russell snorted. “You think you’re funny, huh?”

“Hey, you laughed!” you said, pointing at him.

He shook his head, despite his amusement. He slowed to a stop in front of his car.

“Where’d you park, huh?” he asked.

“Over there,” you said, pointing several parking spaces down. Your eyes were drawn to his car, however. “Wow. This is your car?”

Russell grinned and patted the top of his black Chevy.

“Aw, yeah. That’s my baby,” he said. “She’s a Chevelle, 1967.”

You didn’t know much about cars, but you could see this was a classic beauty. You passed a hand over its sleek paint job without touching, so you didn't get any fingerprints on it. Though you quirked a smile over your shoulder at him.

“She?” you intoned.

“That’s right. She,” he confirmed.

You smirked and crossed your arms. You paused in front of the passenger door, and when Russell drew in closer, you had to crane your neck up to meet his warm gaze.

“Now, if I go in for a kiss goodnight, are you gonna deck me?” he asked, with a teasing glint in his eyes.

You tilted your head, your own eyes dancing.

“I’m sure you’re brave enough to find out,” you said.

Russell decided he’d take that bet.

He leaned in slowly. He made a show of hesitating, raising a brow, as if waiting for a blow. You were tempted to laugh.

But then he let loose a true smile, and he bowed his head to press his lips against yours. Your eyes fell shut, and your hands moved to flatten against his chest. A firm fucking wall. Jesus.

He circled his arms around your waist, bringing you in closer. Your fingers wound up in his hair, while he tilted his head to kiss you again. You met him with the same fervor with each new kiss, and the feel of your body, soft and pliant under his hands, each little sweet sound that you made, it all drove him to delve in deeper.

You moaned into his mouth at the first warm swipe of his tongue against yours. He tasted like the burn of good whiskey.

You pressed yourself flush against him on instinct. He found no other recourse but to back you up against the side of his car. His hand tangled into your hair, gripping, then easing through the soft strands.

Russell veered away from your soft mouth after a while, just to burn a line of warm, wet kisses along your jaw, and down your neck with the added rasp of his beard.

His lips found the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder. He kissed and sucked at your skin, even grazing with his teeth. You gasped softly in his ear, shuddering against him. You ran your hands over his shoulders and down his strong back out of a need to feel him.

His hands were heavy along the curve of your waist then, squeezing your hips. It all felt incredibly right. And by right, you meant body tingling, warmth churning in your lower belly, and wetness growing between your legs, for sure dampening your panties.

You tugged him back by his hair, so you could reach him for another steamy kiss.

“I’m staying at a motel, if you wanna…” he said, between kisses.

You paused against his lips, parting from him softly.

“Or not," he added. "Just thought I’d mention.” 

You giggled, catching your breath, and then smoothing your hands down his chest. The faint throb of your core was telling you one thing, but the warning signals of your more cautious mind were telling you another. You thought for a moment…but then you sighed. 

“How long are you really in town?” you asked.

His wet lips tugged to one corner, ruefully. “A few more days, probably.”

“Right,” you said with a frown. “Russell, I like you. I actually, I really do. If you were sticking around for a while, it’d be one thing. But you’re my best friend’s brother, and I—”

“No, I get it. I can’t predict when I’m gonna be able to swing back into town, and you’ve gotta live your life,” he said, but not without care. He curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear. 

Your heart tugged, almost painfully.

“You’re a good guy, Russell Shaw,” you breathed. “Why can’t you be a good guy who’s staying?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. Then he cringed, knowing how you felt about sweethearting men. “Ah, sorry—” 

You smiled and covered his mouth with your fingers. 

“It’s okay. You have permission to sweetheart me.” 

After blinking his surprise away, his face eased into a grin.

“Then I’ll wear that badge with honor,” he said. 

Your shoulders shook with laughter when you let your forehead fall against his chest.

Russell remained what he had been throughout the entire night: a gentleman, who accompanied you over to your car.

After another stolen kiss or two in front of your sedan, you parted ways from him with a bit of a heavy heart. You wondered if you made the right decision, or if you should’ve just gone for it for once, instead of second-guessing yourself like usual.

You did know this. The rumble of his Chevelle driving down the opposite road would be imprinted on your memory.

When you returned home, you realized that the house was empty, and in complete darkness.

Charlie still wasn’t home.

Worried, you flicked on the lights and began to text his cell, only to find a note for you on the kitchen counter.

And it worried you even more.

I’m sorry. I’m going to make it right. 

— C.

AN: 😬 Well then! lol We're diving straight into the drama and feels on this one. What did you think of her "barely a date" with Russell? 😂

And where do you think we're going next with Charlie?

Next Time:

Dory was sat next to you on the couch, rubbing your back with sympathy and concern in her own eyes.

“You should call the police,” she advised.

You’d thought of that, but if Charlie was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then depending on what it was, you didn’t necessarily want him locked up in a cell. He wasn’t a bad person, he was just…lost. You wanted him to get help.

You set down the butterknife beside the jar and turned to her, after drying your eyes the best you could.

“Do you think your brother would be willing to come back to Wyoming?” you said. After a beat of hesitation, you specified:

“Colter, the tracker.”

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

Series Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Russell Shaw Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Russell S. Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

@brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum

@waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady

@leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy

@kmc1989 @jackles010378 @emily-winchester @waynes-multiverse @jessjad

@my-stories-vault @deans-spinster-witch @syrma-sensei @stellasfictionalworld @ultimatecin73

@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @pieandmonsters @lhymer1995 @taehyungxjungkookistaekook @lovelystoriesaj

@nicksalchemy1 @spnwoman @onlyangel-444 @sexyvixen7 @illicithallways

@wolkenprinzessin007 @alwaystiredandconfused @carpenterswife @cheynovak @grilledcheeseandtomato

[yoru-no-seiiki]

VILLAIN! READER WITH A YAN! MASOCHISTIC! PROTAGONIST

tw/cw: DDNE, mentions of abuse, actual abuse (by reader), implied parental neglect. protagonist’s gender is whatever you want it to be. gn pronouns.

[ second part ]

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU.

You wholeheartedly believed that you’d rule the world one day. The oracles deemed it so, and the rest followed. The only problem being is that you’d rule with an iron fist, causing the death of millions under your tyrannical reign. Many opposed your position as heir to the throne.

In comes the protagonist, your adopted sibling who is also destined for great things. The difference being is that they’ll gain it through defeating you.

Everyday is a murderfest with you trying to kill the kid but because of plot armor they’re resistant to any and all sorts of spells, weapons and even people you’ve hired.

Yan! Protagonist who had been abused their entire life saw this as just an act of love. Even moreso since you were so determined to hurt them everyday. It must mean you adored them does it not? They don’t understand why they’re not able to die or properly get hurt by you though, so at times they’ll even try to get in your way to make it easier.

But this just ends up with you hating them further and further.

As the two of you grow up, tactics start to become even more underhanded and deadly. You had lost all sense of empathy and kindness at this point. You had also halted trying to hide your attempts as your sibling clearly knew of it anyways.

But with your duties increasing as well, you are unable to execute much of your assassination attempts much less see your sibling directly. It came to the point of dull poisoning plots of which Yan! Protagonist had literally gained an immunity to with how frequent it was.

Yan! Protagonist never wanted to become ruler. A kingdom was far too much to manage and think about. All they wanted was to relax and be with you.

But with you being all busy and ignoring them. . . they simply can not stand idle and let this be!

And so they throw themselves into their studies. Those that doubted the Protagonist are now in awe of the way they picked up things in addition to their overflowing determination. They must really want to take you down.

Unbeknownst to them, they were simply doing this so you’d go back to giving them your attention.

Years after you’d officially taken the throne, they barged into castle. Thousands of troops behind them as they declared,

—

“Exalted sibling, I’ve come to take the burden of the throne from your hands!” The protagonist stood before you in all their glory. Magnificent as the scriptures had foretold. Absolutely befitting for the next in line for the throne. Blessed with a face sculpted by the gods.

You wanted nothing more rip it from their skull and watch the blood rain down on their regal clothing.

“You’ll have to take it from my cold, dead body.”

The protagonist froze in their tracks. Your words and pure confusion taking a while to settle in.

Wait, what?

. . . to be continued

Anyways that’s just a smol part from one of my webtoon ideas i’ve been writing haha. It probably won’t be expanded on until I officially published that one and it’s like further down the list of webtoon order so oop-

©️ yoru.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

[feroluce]

I've only recently started having my own thoughts about Emanator!Sampo and I think my favorite version of this is that he is technically an Emanator, it's just that he doesn't talk about it because Aha is a dick who only blesses people that don't want it and Sampo hates it here dkjxkdkdck

Aha blessed the Mourning Actors! A whole faction of people who have specifically made it their life's mission to resist Elation! THEY made a literal worm THEIR Emanator just to see if it would be accepted into the Genius Society! And when it wasn't, Aha just as easily killed it and tossed it aside! So I feel like there is a good possibility that Aha looked down at Sampo, this little oddball who doesn't seem to even like Epsilon or a lot of the Masked Fools and was like.

Hey.

You know what would be really really funny.

And I feel like being an Emanator wouldn't even be a plus for Sampo, because of how he operates. Sampo excels at blending in; he managed to smuggle himself onto a planet

that had been isolated for 700 years,

with only one (1) single city on it,

and going even further, he snuck himself into the Underground,

where the population is even more sparse,

and STILL. Not a single accusation of him being an alien! Not even after the Astral Express lands and proves that interstellar space travel is possible! Sampo is so thoroughly ingrained into Belobog that yeah, some people admit they don't know his origins, but none of it ever comes with the question of whether he actually is a Belobog native or not. Sampo knows exactly how to blend himself into his surroundings in the most subtle way possible. And being an Emanator, something far more powerful than any normal human or Pathstrider could ever hope to be, would only throw in a massive extra variable for him. Sampo would have to be so so careful to keep a lid on his Emanator traits, to keep up the appearance of being totally normal and average at all times. It doesn't help him at all.

And this part is pure indulgence, but I love taking Aha's closeness with mortals, and THEIR tendency to take human form, and twisting it into a case of THEM using Sampo as a vessel.

I want Aha to look at Sampo the same way all of us look at Sampo. A chew toy. A plaything. Something to shove through the meat grinder. Aha thinks Sampo is hilarious and a funny, silly little guy, and THEY want to put him in Situations just to see what he does. Sampo is not a fan.

This though, this is what makes Sampo so wildly entertaining as a vessel. Because Aha knows that Sampo does not want to be a vessel, does not even want to be an Emanator, and THEY find it SO much fun to watch the mental gymnastics he has to pull to convince himself he's ok with it, this is fine actually, because he's not exactly about to tell off a literal god. He doesn't feel like getting a smiting today, please and thank you.

Because squeezing yourself into a human vessel is so different than merely adopting a human disguise, there's already a human soul in there, it's kind of a tight fit. If Sampo doesn't make room, doesn't all but dissociate right out of his own body, it could cause. Consequences.

And so, Aha always gives a warning, just to watch him squirm.

It begins with the sound of bells.

Just little ones, at first. Small, clinking little sounds that could even be considered nice. Something almost gentle, like a wind chime in a pleasant breeze on a warm day. This is the signal for the countdown.

Sampo breathes in, breathes out. Makes himself as small as possible within his own body.

The bells rise and multiply, tinkling wind chimes give way to sleigh bells, to shopkeepers bells, the sound of something inevitable approaching, something entering.

Sampo breathes in, breathes out. Dilutes himself, weaker and weaker concentrations.

The bells rise and rise, multiply and multiply, celebration and tragedy resonating in the sound of church bells, ringing bright and loud, the sounds of weddings and funerals both the same.

Sampo breathes in, breathes out. Becomes like smoke, like vapor. Hollows himself out.

Empty, empty, empty until he echoes, like a bell, like something with the sole purpose of being shaken and rattled around, a thing to be struck, the sounds jarring and punched out and gasping and piercing the air, the lung, the eardrum.

Sampo breathes in.

Beaten he rings, bashed in he sings.

Aha breathes out.

[sgiandubh]

News from Birmingham, 2: 'we're out of battery soon'

ACHTUNG, BABY: these pics do NOT belong to me. Please do NOT steal them, Mordorians, as you usually do. I don't want to see them chez Marple, BIF or Purv, I do not want them on X and I certainly do NOT want them on Brazilian Instagram accounts who also charge people, or ANY OTHER Instagram account, for that matter. I will come for you with feather and brimstone if you do. Fuck ye and yer clan if you show no respect - this is a legit casus belli situation.

Heroically reporting from the Q&A panel, our girls are running out of battery juice in their phones, because -as loyal C mainly - they took a bajillion pics. I am selecting them as I write.

First thing, C specifically asked the minder (whom many people I have talked to, today, described as a 'nasty pox of a man'/'un asco de hombre') to let the fans sit next to her and ask their questions as they feel, no tedious standing in line needed. C, always the politician of Those Two, LOL:

Before anything else, I was entrusted with a FULL audio recording of the Birmingham panel. As per copyright regulations and attendance contract I am NOT allowed to post it and I do not want to harm my two wonderful friends in ANY way, shape or form. That being said, I will take my time, tonight (and lots of Nescafe Brasero Strong) to listen to it and give you all the juicy parts, in transcription. Short transcribed bits, we can do. Thank you for your understanding,

And boy, do we have juicy parts, babes. For now, I will just share the best pics and the on the spot reactions.

First question was 'how do you feel as a real mom?' Her solution was to simply say ' Sophie, where are you?' I will check with the audio and repost, but it simply goes to say: a) she won't address anything Blonde Bambino related and b) she/they are still very close to Skeleton, whom they seem to have adopted. Sort of. Sophie knows many secrets. Trust.

✔️Will she stay/remain in Scotland after OL is over? 'Well, my husband is Scottish and so are his parents'. Lip service to the narrative all the way.

✔️A fan asked something she did not understand/catch well, while Steve the 'Asco de Hombre' minder was fumbling around with the mic, so she informally went 'whaat?' So Steve dutifully barked, in a LOUD voice 'IT'S ABOUT TONY, YOUR REAL HUSBAND' (🙄 - I would fire that dick on the spot, he simply makes her look controlled and a fool). I was also told to listen carefully to the audio, for context and I shall give you my honest sentiment, as always. Note to self: to be found around the 25' mark.

✔️Turns out the fan asked if she and Tracula share the same musical tastes. She answers du tac au tac/on the spot, 'who, me and Sam?' (CAITRIONA!). And this is when Steve 'Nasty Pox of a Man' interjected, 'NO, TONY, YOUR REAL HUSBAND'. Like father, like daughter: remember that Tydavnet interview for the public Irish radio, when she was promoting Belfast? Well, there we go ('And Tony!/ 'And Tony' - zero enthusiasm, Mr. Balfe, bless your big 💖in Heaven).

I will come back with more. Our friends' batteries died, but they still managed to share with me the entire audio panel.

And I swear to God - if I ever see one of your sock accounts (@homechef, anyone?) come to steal from here and then tell the world it was the Team or who the hell else who found it while you were having your tonsils polished/an umpteeenth root canal mended/dinner with Brad Pitt's Sunset Boulevard lookalike/whatever, you shall be reported.

And yes, I have more pics. In fact, I have about 35 of them, in all and for all.

I LOVE MY FRIENDS AND THEY LOVE ME. TAKE THAT, HATERS.

[hana-no-seiiki]

Hi, i dont know your request are still open, but. Maybe Arlecchino! reader? where the batfam first time met them, they think she is a enemy? (well she is actually, idk) by her mysterious manner? they know her from Damian, who is friends with Lyney and Lynette. Damian never met with reader. But, one day. Lyney and Lynette is been bring to the Wayne Manor by Damian. For a simple dinner, yes. They tell that they are orphans that live in a orphanage named "House of Hearth" at France.

They come to Gotham for study. And yes, Bruce feels sympathy for them (actually want to adopt them.). Well thats just an idea he have in his mind. But, now. Bruce interested as they said that "Father" which is reader is a woman. And lucky, Reader is at Gotham for some "business", Bruce added that he like to make this "Father" came to have dinner with them tommorow.

(Fatui Harbinger is a netral organisation. Yet, still indeed dangerous. They only search something important for their own fortune, maybe like a mafia or something?)

Anyway. When the Batfam met with Reader, they cant help. But find, reader is.. Strange, and mysterious. But cant help by their charming aura. And, why is reader suddenly accept the offer to met with the Batfam? because, she want to make sure about her guess that Bruce Wayne is the Infamous Batman. (okay, maybe the fatui harbinger have some issues with the superheros ig). As Batman was the one who failed her mission for seeking a Hydro gem. She managed to escape of course.. (Idk, its your choice to finish the rest of it, im already fucked up to think the rest of it.)

Anyway, love your writing. I mean, the things i imagened of batfam have a crossover with genshin or hsr became true by you. I never found a writer that made such a Batfam x Genshin/Hsr/Honkai impact one like you. Maybe later make a Ada Wong! reader x Batfam? Im sorry if i have a lot things to say. Thank you for reading this shitty words of mine. Rest well, may God bless you. 💕💕💕💕💕💕

omfg i was just about to start a draft on Arlecchino reader!!! but i wanted to wait for when our dear Father is out first so I can read her story, etc.

I’ll save the bulk of my ideas/fic for when I fully know her lore but this is what I got from the story quest.

The name Arlecchino was the most people got from digging information on you.

You were this mysterious entity among the notorious Fatui Harbingers. Neither vengeful nor greedy. Nor were you ever known to actively seek out blood outside of the Tsaritsa’s orders.

Your priority has and will always been the House of Hearth. Your children. You were never too far from them.

After one of the relics your master told you to obtain was destroyed, you were to punished by being forced to help with the next acquisition. The Crown of the Pyro Clan.

You were stationed in East America. Particularly Gotham for investigation.

An ordinary Wayne Ent. office worker by the day, mafia capo causing havoc by night.

You weren’t really taking your job seriously, so you were soon caught by Gotham’s finest.

And soon after that, their obsession.

God is Tim such a great pair for Arlecchino reader tho. I already see him drooling all over them-

[lovedrruunk]

It would be so cool if you could write a venture x reader where Y/N is too nervous to speak to Venture so Mercy wingmans for them‼️

‘The best wingwoman ! ଘ(˵╹ᴗ╹)━☆

Venture (Overwatch) x GN reader

Authors note!; super cute request!!! Did I tell u guys I'm a mercy main…. DISGUSTING I KNOW!! But I also main Ana so it cancels out… also tbh there’s a lot of requests that I haven’t gotten to *YET* simply bc idk how to go about them :( but this one came to me rlly easily !! Ty!!! also finished this whole thing while listening to phantom of the opera on repeat for 2 hours (i need 2 write a moira fic omg...) UPDATE: HELLO??? THE MERCY MYTHIC? okok ill stfu now sry!!

Earlier today, you were dragged to a work party by your colleague and guardian angel, Angela Ziegler. You begged her to let you stay home, but she refused, saying she wouldn't be able to go without you since you were the only coworker she actually enjoyed spending time with. And so, being the amazing friend you are, of course, you agreed to go to keep her company!... Just kidding!

Angela knew you too well. Once she mentioned that the cutie from the Wayfinder Society was attending, you did a complete 180, now asking her what you should wear. She couldn't help but laugh at your reaction, amused at how predictable you were when it came to romance.

Sloane Cameron, also known as Venture, also known as the cutie from the Wayfinder Society, had quickly captured your attention ever since you first met them a couple of months ago when the Wayfinder Society was adopted by Overwatch as a sub-branch. Being the head anthropologist for Overwatch led you to spending a good amount of time with Venture and their team. Granted, it was just work and sharing data and all that, but you couldn't help but find them super intriguing. They were funny, lively, and so passionate about their work! But as badly as you wanted to get to know them, you just couldn't. Their confidence was a blessing and a curse, being the cause of why you liked them and the cause of why you were so terrified of talking to them.

Every week or so, you and Angela meet up at the cafeteria at Overwatch's headquarters to catch up while drinking your morning coffee/tea/whatever, which you of course just use as time to gush about your overwhelming crush on your new coworker. But last week... last week, you had decided enough was enough. You made a promise to Angela that by next week, you would at least ask them if they'd want to hang out outside of work. Feeling pumped and confident, you had excitedly gotten all dolled up for the party.

And now, here you were. The party was in an old Victorian mansion with lots of expensive art and chandeliers, nothing less for Overwatch, of course. The first time you had attended a work party, you were extremely underdressed, assuming it was a casual get-together, not at all expecting it to be an elegant and serious "ball" like party. You cringed at the memory before Angela snapped you out of it, handing you a glass of champagne.

"So? Is today the day?" she questions as she leans against the back wall you had been standing next to.

"I don't know, Angela..." you whined as you not so discreetly stared at them from across the room.

It was the first time you had seen them in formal attire, and you couldn’t help but admire how they looked good in everything.

"Go ask them to dance!" She suggested happily.

"What!? No way! I can't dance, especially not with them!"

“Oh, don't give me that! The worst they could say is no."

"'No' is definitely not the worst they could say. They could say 'get away from me' or 'why are you talking to me about something other than rocks' or 'your foundation doesn't match your neck.. and no I would rather drop dead than dance with you'."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm serious!- Wait!! Did you see that? They smiled at the new rookie! What if they like her!? What if they came here together!? What if they're dating!? Married!!? Oh my god, and now they're chatting it up with Tiff from communications! They're laughing, what's so funny!?"

"You have got to be kidding me..."

"Right!? She's not even funnier than me..."

Catching you off guard, Angela grips your shoulders, forcing you to face her.

"Shut up," she says sternly, fighting off the urge to smack you in the face. "Just ask them. You'll never know until you do... And if you don't, I owe that infuriating geneticist twenty bucks..." She murmurs the last part to herself angrily.

"Y'know what? You're right!"

You quickly finish the glass of champagne, putting it on the table next to you. Feeling encouraged by your friend, you take a deep breath before marching towards Venture... right before turning your heel and marching straight back to Angela.

"I feel like I'm gonna throw up..."

"You haven't even said anything!!!"

After a bit of back and forth, Angela is fed up and tells you that if you weren't going to do anything about it, then she will.

As she makes her way towards Venture, you whisper yell at her, begging her to come back and let you give it another try. But knowing you, she decides to ignore your desperate pleas as she continues to happily strut towards them.

From the distance, you can't make out what they're talking about, and it's driving you nuts. Angela's back is facing you, but Venture's face lights up, so you decide to take that as a good sign. And just as you start to smile... Angela turns around and points at you.

You freeze in place for what felt like a year before your eyes focus again. Venture is grinning as they wave to you, and Angela uses her hand to call you over. You force a wide smile (not aware of how crazy you look) as you timidly walk up to the two of them.

"Y/N! I was just mentioning to our sweet Cameron over here how you love to dance! They've never been to a party like this, isn't that crazy!"

"Yeah!! Wayfinder never had the funding by itself to afford something like this! I've never really had a reason to learn how to dance, so I have no clue; was hoping you could teach me!?"

"Me? Oh, sorry! I don't know how to dance!"

"But... Dr. Ziegler just said.."

"I know! Poor little Angie... ever since her last birthday, her memory has been terrible!! Must've confused me with Lena!"

You could feel the death glare Angela was giving you, but you continued to smile innocently at them.

"Well... I guess this would be a good opportunity for us to learn, don't ‘cha think?" Of course. Of course, they would somehow find a solution to your excuse.

"Great idea!!" Angela claps her hands together happily. "Why don't you two head to the dance floor? You'll only learn from experience!"

"I agree!"

Before you can say anything, you're dragged by the hand of a very excited Venture, and although your palms are sweaty and your head is spinning, you can't help but feel so much excitement.

. . .

And so as the dancefloor clears and the two of you are making your way out to the gardens, you spot a grinning Angela and a scowling Moira putting away her wallet.

[wish-upon-the-universe]

"what if the king adopts siffrin" "NO what if Bonnie and nille adopt him" "wait what if ofile adopts them" WELL WHAT ABOUT EUPHRASIE ADOPTING SIFFRIN.

Hear me out.

Housemaiden Euphrasie finds a dark haired teen with nothing more than the clothes on his back, a shitty dagger in hand, and a handful of Vaugardian and Porterian phrases under their belt. She hears their accent, sees those metal pins, *knows* that light hair far too similar to her own and decides. This child should be protected.

So she gives him a place to stay, among her fellow housepeople at the House of Change in Dormont.

And Siffrin grows up there. He visits the Observatory with her, studies that eternally locked door, takes a few classes and learns about the Change God. He clings to her when there's too many people in the cafeteria or when that one new scientist girl starts flirting with """Euphie""". Siffrin reads so many manuscripts of plays, takes classes to learn other languages and acting courses to occupy time and maybe sometimes he visits other cities to explore other Houses (with Euphrasie, ofc). He can help her see who wished for Vaugarde to be saved, and run away faster than anyone and escape the House when the King arrives. And later he can stumble on that study-all girl, rumored to be blessed by the Change God (how strange!) after helping her growing party defeat a particularly large sadness. Then he can see Euphrasie and panic when she starts to speak nonsense, saying something is broken, failing, rotting, and realize that Vaugarde's intent, as pure as it was, has trapped him in time. And then he can cry when he "shoves" her and apologize and she can just hug him and promise them that its ok!!!! Its all over, its all ok, and she's more than happy to bless them on his new journey.

And Euphrasie!! She cares for Siffrin almost like her own child. He has a family, somewhere, but until they can be reunited... she can be a guardian. She can play favorites just a little when she's nominated and accepts the position of Head Housemaiden (she pretends not to see Siffrin cry with pride). She can teach him, and try to bury the past under the changing future with them. She can tell him about the wishes, and they can wish for a savior from the King together. She can cry and hope that Siffrin escaped, or that Mirabelle was able to save him with her blessing. She can see the broken, rotting, failing wish and Siffrin with tired eyes and an exhaustion in his bones, and know that their past- even just a little- has caught up and it has ruined them. She can see the haze of something familiar take over her and wake up to a viscious shade still in the sky, coming from... Siffrin? She only gets a glimpse, though, before she's out like a light and waking up to overhearing Siffrin talk with his party about continuing to travel. She can heal herself as as much as she wants to hold them close again... they deserve to explore the world with a new family. So when she blesses them, she asks they never forget her and the promise to come back and write letters and they whisper "I love you" before parting ways.

So yeah, Euphrasie adopts siffrin

[harzilla]

*slaps hand on table*

Tell me about your Yuusona. Your twst protag. I love seeing people's ideas and concepts. Are they just you? That's awesome! Are they twisted from a Disney character? Sweet! Are they your way to work through your trauma? More power to you!

One of my favorites is @ilmacore 's Maria. Blessed adorable abuelita Yuu.

I have four currently rolling around in my head. Each one is based on a type of genre.

The first is chubby!Yuu, the shoujo/magical girl type. My darling lil chubby gal who is another member of the sunshine team. The best damn support these boys will have. Her nickname from Floyd would be capybara(I originally had it as manatee but capybara fits her more because she's genuinely nice and tries to get along with everybody). I see her wearing a lot of cottage core, florals, etc... soft feminine clothing. Her ending would have her finding a way back home but being able to travel back and forth between Twst and her home world. You can guess which boy(or boys) might have a crush on her based on these pics.

The next one I call punk!Yuu. The one who fits the shonen archetype. Had a shitty life growing up and was a homeless teen. They ended up in Twst after dying from being hit by a car. Most likely to throw hands for pissing them off. Floyd calls them pistol shrimp. Climbed on and smashed the head of an overblot. Threw Jade at Floyd during book 2's investigation. Protective of those they care about. Lots of piercing and punk style clothing. My favorite ship with them is actually Riddle. Very opposites attract situation. But they have a lot in common(Yuu's father was a worse version of Riddle's mother) Yuu teaches Riddle to live life more freely, and Riddle teaches them to be less rebellious. This Yuu stays in Twst when they find out the truth of how they got there because they're genuinely happier then they ever were back home.

The third Yuu is adopted!Yuu. The one from my previous musings. A Yuu that fits the reincarnated! Archetype. This Yuu originally died in the bad ending timeline where Yuu overblots and becomes a calamity class monster who destroys the world. They were given a second chance at life when they finally died in the first timeline. They reincarnated as an infant and was adopted by Crowley. This Yuu is fairly mellow, when asked why they did something the answer is just they felt like it, but is also good at pulling at Crowley's strings to get what they want. They have a preference for loose, casual clothing. Preferring to wear things like oversized t-shirts and hoodies. Their ending is they almost repeat the calamity when their past life memories begin to overtake their current life after all the overblots including Grim's. But the difference is the previous life Yuu has nobody, but this Yuu has their friends, Grim, and Crowley to save them.

The fourth Yuu I call Author!Yuu. They're pretty much a Yuu who gained so much magical power they became the equivalent of a god. Because they were the first anomaly, they don't age at all and have lived thousands of years accumulating magic and knowledge, even out living Malleus. Their life is lonely and they actually don't want to see another person end up like them. Their magic allows them to manipulate the timelines within a certain limitation. They can't rewrite timelines completely, but they figure out a loophole by finding the alternate versions of themselves they think will give the best outcome for the "story" of the world. This Yuu is the one who figured out the precognitive dreams system to help each Yuu out. This version of Yuu exists in a world where ALL the stories of Twst are true. Fanfics, fanart, game, manga, novel, etc... every story is its own world and this Yuu records every one of them within their great library. Every book in the library of their soul is a story somebody has written about the world of Twst.

So, tell me more about your Yuus.

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 1 . Horrible Intuition - Cale/Reader

notes: I'll try to update this once a week

tags: mild cursing

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist prev . next

Kim Rok Soo’s knowledge about the new world he is in was all from the novel titled ‘Birth of a Hero’. That and whatever he had read in his study at the Henituse castle.

So when those reddish-brown eyes of his landed on an unknown figure that looked important, he was confused. Good thing Eric Wheelsman has his back, aware that his dongsaeng is not up to date in whatever’s going on in the capital.

“I’m not sure if you’ve heard of them but that’s _____ Perduellio, known as Roan Kingdom's Medicus[1], and they are a northeasterner too. They have been adopted by the Perduellio family who is aligned with the Gyerre Duchy.”

The person in question was busy running around healing whoever they could. They were wearing a white robe that reminded Cale of Ancient Greece or Egypt[2]. However, this one looks more luxurious as unnecessary details have been added such as gold linings, sash, beads, and crystals.

Despite all those details what caught Cale Henituse's attention was not their clothing. Rather, the number of guards they have following them.

“It is said that they have a weak body so they have guards everywhere. The story was that the Perduellio couple encountered _____ on the streets when they were 4 years old and immediately felt a connection that’s why they were adopted. Then 5 years later, they manifested a healing ability that seems to be a blessing from the Sun God. Oh, they can also perform small light tricks. In fact, I think they were supposed to showcase some of it today.”

Midway through Eric’s words Cale had stopped paying attention. Instead, he observes the adopted Perduellio. Eric might say that the guards are there for _____’s safety, but to the redhead, it looks as though they are guarding a criminal.

‘Oh well it’s not like I’ll meet them anytime so not my problem’

…Cale spoke too soon.

After the plaza incident, Crown Prince Alberu requested for that very same person to be Cale’s healer. It was to strengthen that image of the crown providing the young master of the Henituse County with the best as he recovered. 

While Cale understands and agrees with the intention, he has a hunch that this decision will smack him in the back later.

“Don’t worry young master, I know all information about young master _____ and have deemed them safe! Actually, the second child of the Perduellio family is said to be something akin to an unofficial maiden of the Sun God. The only reason it’s unofficial is because they are not officially affiliated with the Sun God Church as the Perduellio’s said their health would not be able to handle it.”

Cale, who is now relaxed and lying down on a bed meant for foreign officials, became a bit interested in this fact. Even though the Roan Kingdom has no official religion, families would still consider it a great honour if one of their relatives were deemed a saint or a holy maiden.

“The young master also doesn’t have to worry about political battles. Even though the Perduellios support the third prince, young master _____ is known for not taking any political sides. This is especially true when it comes to helping those in need. It is also why the young master is famous even with the common people.”

What Hans said brought some relief to Cale’s mind. He already has enough on his plate and he doesn’t want to add to it by joining a political strife. But even if he did he’s sure he could make the crown prince act as his shield. 

Hans finishes his report by saying that Cale is to be healed 2 times before the King gathers everyone and makes a proclamation. Each session will last up to 30 minutes only. This was because the crown prince insisted that no guard shall enter Cale’s room while _____ is healing him. The limited time is the Perduellio County’s compromise as they reasoned they don’t want _____ to become sick.

“Humans are odd, why are they healing other people when they are sick? Well, you weak human also save people when you are weak yourself…”

Cale pays no attention to the black dragon’s ramblings in his head as he observes _____ who has come to heal him. 

“That’s odd, I thought the guards were for that human’s safety. Why do they look more relaxed now that those guards are gone?”

He can’t hear anything. Cale can’t hear anything. Blah. Blah. Blah.

He doesn’t need to know any more unnecessary details that might potentially hinder his slacker life. He has already heard too much about the crown prince, no need to find out secrets about this healer that weren’t even mentioned in the book.

However, he can’t deny that the guards are acting odd. They are too strict with the time, and instead of it looking like they are worried. To Cale, it looks as if Roan's Medicus is a prisoner who’s granted limited visiting time.

During the two sessions everyone, Cale and the children averaging 7 years old, could tell that the healer knew that Cale was fine and didn’t need to be healed. This is more prominent by how the only thing they seem to be doing is removing Cale’s stomachache from eating while lying down and replenishing his energy.

Speaking of replenishing his energy.

The Vitality of the Heart works wonders when it comes to keeping Cale in tip-top condition 24/7. However, _____ makes him feel more refreshed. Every time the healer replenishes his energy he feels as though he has taken a particularly good bath. As if he was soaking in freshwater where the temperature was just right. 

Weird considering that their power is supposed to be from the Sun God.

“Human this is weird! That human seems to be using a new power, but don’t worry this great and mighty being can tell that it isn’t dangerous!”

Maybe if Cale tries really hard enough then he will not hear unnecessary comments that can jeopardise his slacker life…

“This is our last session correct?”

“Yes, uhm as you already know young master Cale, this will be the last time I get to officially check on you. You seem to be fine now but try to rest if you can. I heard that you’re going sightseeing in the Ubarr territory, I hope the sea can help you relax.”

Their soft and gentle voice along with tempting words about resting, slacking off in Cale’s vocabulary, sounded like music to the young man’s ears. Unfortunately, his itinerary in the Ubarr territory doesn’t line up with the doctor’s prescription.

“Really weird… Now that I pay more attention to it, they kinda smell like you human…”

But first, Cale is going to pretend to be deaf for his sanity…

Also, smell? Again? Just what does he smell like? First, it was the crown prince, then it was this baby dragon. Why does everyone have questions regarding smell?

In any case, it’s not like they’ll meet again right?

Wrong again! 

Cale was unfortunate enough to encounter the healer again while they were in the Dubori territory of the Caro Kingdom. Poor Cale was planning to pretend he didn’t see anything. But since his luck seemed negative, they made eye contact as soon as he thought of his great plan.

Well, it’s only right to properly greet his healer back in the capital right?

“I didn’t expect to see you here young master _____ much less without guards.”

“Ah no young master Cale, I still have them. They are just currently changing shifts so I have a few minutes to myself.”

A few minutes to themself… Perduellio’s adopted child said in their usual soft, gentle, and almost inaudible voice that Cale wouldn’t have caught it if they weren’t in close proximity. Cale had known since back at the capital how soft-spoken _____ was but didn’t expect that it would be this difficult to hear them.

However, he still caught and heard those words.

Words that again, sound as though there’s more to _____ than being the precious adopted child of the Perduellio’s family.

“However young master Cale, you look as though you are going beyond the territory walls. Please be careful as I’ve read about a phenomenon occasionally happening there.”

“What could that be?”

“I’ve read in an ancient text that dead mana rises there sometimes, but no one knows when it happens…”

_____ suddenly stopped speaking as they noticed a few things:

Their guards are coming over, and;

Tasha caught their eye

“Oh seems like my guards are here. Also, I would like to apologise as I didn’t realise…”

The usual prim and proper _____ is now rushing to get back to their guards making Cale unable to hear the last bit of their sentence. 

Good thing the invisible black dragon did.

“Human! That weird human knows that Tasha is a Dark Elf! While they were bowing to you I heard them say ‘I would like to say sorry as I didn’t realize you have a Dark Elf with you’.”

What now? Cale couldn’t comprehend how _____, whose supposed power was only healing and light magic tricks could know. So he asked Tasha if any nobles knew about her.

“Me as a Dark Elf? No way young master, that’s like asking for a death sentence. However, I am a bit close to Perduellio’s blessed child. Even though they are blessed by the Sun God, their healing powers don't have any purification in them.”

Safe to assume that _____ has known about Tasha for quite a while now but hasn’t said anything.

Cale can feel an additional headache coming. He has a hunch that this would be far from the last time he deals with that healer.

And wouldn’t you know…

Not even a day later Cale encounters _____ again. This time it’s in the most unlikely place you’ll see a child of the Sun God would be. 

The City of the Dark Elves.

Or the City of Life as they named it.

It was a peaceful morning, their stay in the City of Life was extended because of the dead mana rising. Despite that, Cale didn’t mind as he planned to take this chance to sightsee and talk to the necromancer. 

“Young master Cale, young master _____ is now in our healing ward. I don’t know what happened to them but they seem to be in bad shape. I figured I’d let you know as they were your healer previously. I have also sent a message to the crown prince.”

…Who would have thought the first thing Cale gets to sightsee in this city of life is this world’s version of a hospital.

‘Ah damn it, why is my intuition always right?!’

[1] Medicus is the Latin term for healer that stemmed from Medeor that means to heal or cure

[2] my main vision was Claude de Alger Obelia's clothes minus the chest window lol

[windvexer]

On what I'm going to call "peer positioning" in witchcraft, and the scary empowerment it can bring you

I think a lot of people who get into witchcraft have a problem with being able to see themselves as peers & equals to the powers they cultivate around them.

I see this most often discussed when it comes to gods. "Just because your god asks you for something doesn't mean you need to do it!" Etc. I think we've all heard that.

But today my thoughts are on the tarot, and how some people seem to treat tarot readings as "the truth" or "the answer" that then must be followed, even if they (the living, breathing, human practitioner) don't really agree or don't really want to do that.

I'm really big on the analogy of a witch as a monarch, and the concept of various powers (like gods, spirits, tools, and spells) being counselors in the throne room.

In this context, it's easier to adopt the mindset that all of these powers have their own personalities, abilities, and goals - and that they can & will provide conflicting information when you ask for advice. (Especially ancestors - so opinionated!)

Imagine Captain Picard sitting in the meeting room with Geordi, Riker, and the rest of the space nerds.

Captain Picard is like, "the power core is failing and the away team is stranded on the planet. I think we should use the nebula to hide until the Gromflomites stop searching for us." And then Geordi is like, "but Captain, the engines would never make it! We have to go rescue the away team immediately!" And Captain Picard is like, "damn... Wow. I really wanted to go to the nebula, I thought it was the best choice :/ but if you're saying we literally don't have to worry about the Gromflomites..." Then Riker is like, "Captain, no. Geordi isn't saying the Gromflomites aren't a problem, he's just expressing his top concerns as Chief Engineer." And then Picard is all, "oh, so... this is conflicting information? Did that mean I did a bad reading on Geordi, or that negative spirits are stopping me from being able to communicate? Is Riker possibly a trickster?"

If you're captain of the ship, monarch of the kingdom, (etc.), then it might be important to ask yourself:

Am asking for input from my counsel of allied powers, and then making choices for myself?

Or, have I inadvertently signed over my decision-making process to these powers?

And I think it all kind of comes back to "peer positioning," or, witches being able to develop a spiritual framework within which they are equals to the powers around them.

Since beginning practicing witchcraft in earnest, I have often demanded a course of direction. Instead of asking, "how do I accomplish this?" I would ask, "what do I do?"

And the answer was the same every time, deeply infuriating, but also very scary: "Do whatever you think is best."

I think that's the problem of being the captain of the ship. Once your counselors are done giving their input, you are the one who has to make the final call.

Lately I've really been on a kick about witchcraft as a path of empowerment, and I think that viewing spiritual input as just that - input - is a vital part of the process.

Even if you are a true-blue believer in the magical power of tarot, tarot is still just one counselor sitting in your throne room.

Even if you have tutelary spirits, guardians and guides, gods and angels, providing blessings and support - they are not sitting at the head of the table.

You are.

I think that a framework of allied powers as peers and equals is relatively basic, and does have its flaws. But I also think it can be helpful in a variety of ways:

It can provide a system of understanding why allied powers can give conflicting advice, or even seemingly bad advice that doesn't align with our personal desires.

It can provide a tool for processing spiritual input.

It helps restore a sense of personal authority to a practitioner.

It can help a practitioner reclaim control of a path that's grown a mind of its own.

It aids in practicing that most oppressive of skills - liberated autonomy.

I just think it's something to consider. At the end of the day, most of us have probably got to make our own calls.

[I'm making this post because in the past few months I've been helping witches consult the tarot, and they've been giving feedback like, "so this is what I should do, right?" or, "what is it telling me to do?"

I can basically see the huge reblogs where people are explaining that a period of time where they signed complete personal autonomy over to their god was the most empowering and spiritually electric time in their lives,

and I want you to know, I'm not speaking about vows and oaths made to entities that gives them control over your life. I'm talking about situations where witches put down their autonomy so they can have both hands free to shuffle tarot.]

[y-rhywbeth2]

Yesterday my brain made the conection between Sceleritas telling me that Durge was always "pining" for Bhaal's blessing in the form of the Slayer, and Shadowheart saying that all she's ever wanted was to serve Shar and receive her blessing in the form of becoming a Dark Justiciar. And then I lay awake screaming internally until 2AM thinking about character parallels and similarities and Shar and Bhaal's competition to be the worst parents in Realmspace.

"Shar inflicts constant agony on me but she doesn't kill me in situations where she could, which means she must love me! She must!" meet; "Dad deliberately sending me into cardiac arrest, letting me fear for me life and then resuscitating me with a sensation compared to the lash of a whip is affection!" (And they're both so desperate for their gods' love because said god will never really let them have anyone or anything else.)

Shar wants Shadowheart to kill her parents so that she will have no other attachments but Shar, Bhaal forced Durge to kill their adoptive parents so that they would have nobody else but Bhaal.

Both of these characters have been groomed from a young age/birth to be hollowed out into the vessel of a god, and both had the people that raised them forcibly taken away so that they couldn't interfere. Shadowheart was kidnapped from her family so that she could be taken in by her new "real family". Durge was forced to kill their family before they hit puberty because their "real family" would be coming to get them soon.

Shar and Bhaal both inflict pain on them in order to keep them in line.

She's "Shadowheart", because it's a name that suits Shar. They're "The Dark Urge," because it's a name that refers to Bhaal. Both of these names erasing and overwriting the names their family gave them; Jenevelle and whatever Durge's adoptive parents named them.

Shadowheart never lost herself anywhere close to the extent of Durge as far as I've seen, but neither of them could quite erase their personhood. Even when she was destroying lives and torturing people for Shar, Shadowheart couldn't shake the caring girl who loved animals and flowers. Even the Gate's most prolific serial killer stopped to give coin to a beggar, because buried somewhere in there was a child who experienced poverty and homeless and felt empathy.

Differences in power dynamics mean this one isn't a perfect parallel, but it's still interesting how Shadowheart has Viconia and Durge has Orin - people in their lives who resent them and want to see them fall, because they feel the other has robbed them of their proper place of honour in the eyes of their joint deities.

And, of course, they're both amnesiacs whose amnesia is actually the key to them escaping their abuser.

Anyway, I'm sure there are more dialogue parallels and things to find between them, but the main point to take away is that there should be an option in certain cutscenes to shank Shar and Bhaal.

[11queensupreme11]

7th love interest - cú chulainn!

yep so everyone who voted for cu chulainn in the previous poll (which was surprisingly a majority of you) got it right!

for those who don't know, cu chulainn is a character from the ror spinoff: apocalypse of the gods, and he is a demigod. like, an actual 50% human and 50% god.

yeah so that means there are now 2 types of demigods in the ror verse: a human with the strength of a god (gained via drinking ambrosa aka, zeus' blood; ex: heracles before ascension) and now the actual half-blood that we're familiar with

BECAUSE I ALREADY STATED IN ARSENIC BLUES THAT BIOLOGICAL HALF-GOD AND HALF-HUMANS DON'T EXIST AND ARE IMPOSSIBLE TO CREATE, CU CHULAINN WILL BE LIKE PRE-ASCENSION HERACLES: a human with the strength of a god BUT he got this through drinking lugh's blood and was also blessed by him (hence why he will have some of lugh's powers too)

so..... why cu chulainn? well, he actually has a lot of similarities with percy:

both are mortal children of a god. percy being the biological daughter of poseidon and cu chulainn being the adopted son of lugh (for my fic at least)

both have doggies 🥺🥺🥺

both are heroes/warriors. 'hero' more for percy, and 'warrior' more for cu chulainn (i'll explain this later)

both started young. cu chulainn actually started at age fucking seven 💀 and twelve years old for percy

both have ungodly amounts of rizz. percy's getting bitches left and right in BOTH pjo universe and ror universe, and cu chulainn's a fucking whore. no fr, in a lot of his lore, men hated his ass cuz they feared he may "steal their wives and ruin their daughters". he was balls deep in everyone 💀

both have hilarious beef with war gods 😭 ares for percy and morrigan for cu chulainn (fun fact: morrigan actually tried to rizz him once but he rejected her and she's hated his ass since 💀)

both have A LOT of enemies 💀 percy's pissed off like half the greek pantheon in the pjo verse and is on every monster's hit list and cu chulainn literally got killed because the sons of the people he killed wanted to get his ass for revenge 💀

both are really really good at killing their enemies 😂 percy's kill mostly consists of monsters tho and maybe some enemy demigods whereas cu chulainn pretty much killed hundreds of people in táin bó cúailnge in less than five minutes cuz he went into goblin mode 💀💀💀 (and then he went on to terrorize the entirety of ireland)

HOWEVER!!!!! there are also some MAJOR differences between them that i can't wait to explore.

cu chulainn was born into royalty. his mother was a princess and the sister of the king. then there's broke ass percy 😭

cu chulainn is an arrogant asshole in the myths and in the manga and percy's an actual sweetie pie who was raised well by her mom 🥺

cu chulainn's basically the heracles of ireland, and by that, i mean he was a huge fucking piece of shit 💀💀💀 yeah, he's basically as much of a jerk as pjo!heracles 💀

you know how in greek myths, there's tons of heroes that we learn about (theseus, odysseus, hercules, etc), but then you read the non-sugar coated version of their stories and realize "omg these are horrible ppl"???? yeah that's the same with cu chulainn 💀 back in ancient times, they pretty much called anyone who can kick ass a "hero", which is very different from our modern definition where we think of good people who go around saving lives. cu chulainn was more of a warrior than a hero tbh 💀

also, the dude was a rapist too (so he's already fitting in well with the yanderes yaaaaay 🤗)

i'm gonna have so much fun writing about him and percy lmaooo they share so many similarities, but at the same time are so wildly different

anyway, cu chulainn will show up in ACT TWO, not in act one!!!

and for those curious to learn more, here are some links:

for the list of stories of the ulster cycle (some don't show up, so i suggest googling the title to read it else where)

someone's analysis of the sexism and misogyny in these stories with excerpts to back up the claims. they also go into detail about how much of a shitty person he was lol