#asking for a friend a sign a divine intervention | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cumikering · 2 months

Text

Toxic Phillip Graves x reader

3.4k | angst, suggestive The commander with plenty of years ahead of you never saw you like you saw him, not even close

Next to the large window of the coffee shop, you sat with your book, sipping your latte that tasted closer to milk. Your cousin wasn’t a coffee drinker evidently.

“’Scuse me, miss. Would you mind if I sit here?”

You looked up at the owner of the smooth, southern voice. The man wore an easy smile – too easy, like he knew he looked good. Your eyes wandered past him, to the many empty tables before meeting his blue ones again.

“Sorry, I’m Phillip. I couldn’t help noticing your read.” He held out his copy of the exact same book. This is Where I Leave You by Jonathan Tropper.

You gave him a polite smile. “Go ahead.”

“Not my usual read, but it resonates with me.” He sat and placed his cup of tea on the table before cracking his book open where his steel bookmark lay. “He shouldn’t have led her on,” he commented.

“But her story wouldn’t have started otherwise.”

He smiled. “That’s true.”

Phillip ordered you another drink as you discussed your common interest in literature. Before you could finish the tea, the alarm on his phone went off.

“It was such a pleasure meeting you, miss, but I’ve got a plane to catch.” He placed his bookmark back in his copy.

It was then that you noticed the scar across his right cheek. Whatever caused it seemed like it had a full intention of ripping him off the Earth – like a personal vendetta, but divine intervention let it bolt past, catching the cuff of his ear instead.

“Would it be alright to call you sometime? Maybe we can meet again when I find myself in town.”

You put your number in his phone, not expecting anything to come out of it. Not from a chance meeting with a charming man more than a few years older than you.

But days later, Phillip asked if you’d finished the book. You spoke on the phone for half an hour, listening to his analysis of the characters. He was sharp, brilliant, eloquent. It showed that he was well-read and took pride in it.

He was initially vague about his job, saying he travelled a lot. You didn’t think it mattered at all what he did. He was an online friend who was into the same things as you were. A month later when he told you he was the CEO of a private military company, you weren’t surprised at all. It was plain in the way he carried himself, his poise and decisiveness. The way he filled a room to the brim even when he didn’t try to.

Over the months, he mailed you books to read and discuss once a week. Then twice, and thrice and the calls grew more frequent, longer, later. Quieter, deeper.

He became more than a name on your screen, more than a voice at the other end of the line at nightfall. Your conversations bled into the daylight. You felt less like a secret, more like a part of his life. Like an affirmation that, maybe, you were not the only one in the liminal space.

Thinking of you, sweetheart.

Always love hearing from my woman during the day.

Your man is having some good lunch. Wish you were here to share it with.

You make me feel like I may be close to some, but never close enough.

I’ll show you how much you mean to me when we meet again.

“You promise?” you asked one day.

“I make guarantees,” he affirmed without missing a beat. “I’ll have the last week of this month off. Why don’t you fly here? I’ll take care of your flights and hotel.”

“Are you serious?”

“Of course.”

“I’ve never done this before… Flown to meet anyone.”

“No pressure, darlin’. You mean a lot to me, you know that? Don’t want you doing anything you don’t want to.”

You booked your flights and hotel. You weren’t going to be a freeloader even that you knew it would have meant nothing to him judging by the suit he showed up at the airport in. You wanted to cry when you saw him and his boyish smile, carrying a large bouquet of roses and a sign of your name. You ran into his open arms.

“What are you doing dressed up like that?” you asked with a chuckle when you pulled away.

He kissed the top of your head. “Taking my darlin’ out on a dinner date.”

He helped with your suitcase to his grey SUV and waited for you to get ready in your room before taking you to a skyscraping French restaurant. Sat next to the floor-to-ceiling window, you couldn’t take your eyes off the view, the shadows of the city dainty against the gold seeping into deep purple.

“Gorgeous, huh?” He placed his hand on yours, making your turn to him. “I knew you’d like it. We can come back whenever you want.”

“I love it, Phil.” You beamed. “Thank you so much.”

“Anything for my darlin’.” He took your hand to his lips before raising his champagne flute. “To us.”

You clinked yours against his.

At your door, he asked if he could kiss you. You nodded, not meeting his blue eyes as you bit down a smile. He called you when he was in bed, and when you both refused to hang up, you wondered what kept you from staying at his instead.

Phillip spent the next two days taking you around the city and walking you to your room at the end of the night with a kiss, which lasted longer each time.

Darling, I need to take care of something on base. Would it be fine if you’re on your own for the day? His text read the next morning.

Instead of brunch with him, you wondered around the city on your own, reveling in the tall buildings and how friendly the people were. With a sweet Southern drawl, the older women called you honey, darling and everything else Phillip had called you. It made you miss him more.

As you enjoyed your dinner, your phone buzzed with his call. It didn’t take him long to pull up at the restaurant and give you a peck in front of his SUV. You’d seen photos of him in his full gear, but seeing him in his combat uniform in real life made your cheeks heat up as you held onto his biceps. With vivid eyes and a smirk like that, he was dangerously handsome.

His touch seared when he pushed you against the wall of his entryway, fingers grasping your jaw, as he licked and nipped.

“You kiss better than last night,” he mumbled against you.

You paused at the comment, but he didn’t relent. He hoisted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as his hands roamed. He carried you to his kitchen, setting you on the counter, icy against the backs of your thighs.

His mouth trailed down the side of your neck, sucking harder at the base than you’re used to, but it hurt so good. You shuddered as a small gasp escaped you. He pulled away with a satisfied smile before setting you down on your feet, turning to open his French door fridge.

You took in his kitchen, All-black, with spotless marble countertops and seamless cabinets.

“What would you like, darlin’?”

“J- Just water, please.”

You were breathless with your cheeks warm when he led you to his living room which looked equally as lavish with the large TV in front of his plush leather couch. When he pulled you onto his lap, you let out a small squeak, making him chuckle.

“You’re always so adorable.” He kissed your cheek.

He put on some football on as he held you close, his hot, wide palm on your mid-thigh, exposed from him pushing your dress up. Every so often, he’d give it a squeeze as he sipped his beer, making your breath hitch.

“Darlin’, it’s getting late. Let’s get you back.” He patted your thigh. “Unless you want to stay? You can pick any room you want.”

He gave you a quick tour of his place, and you picked the room next to his. He gave you toiletries and his clothes for the night, and told you to come to his room when you were ready for bed. You opened his door to him on his bed in sweats, a book on his lap. He motioned for you to sit next to him, and you did, leaning onto his bare chest. You read with him, his arm around you, thumb rubbing your arm occasionally.

“Phil?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“I just- Well-“ Confidence eluded you as fast as it graced and your heart raced. “Nevermind.”

He laid his book down and turned towards you. “What is it? You know you can tell me anything.”

You felt small having to ask, embarrassed that it was even something that bothered you. But when you looked into his eyes, welcoming with that warm smile, you thought maybe it was alright. It was Phillip after all.

“I wanted to know… What are we?”

He kissed your forehead. “Whatever you want us to be. I’d love to be your man if you let me.”

You smiled, relieved as you nodded.

“Anything for my woman.”

Phillip wasn’t in his room when you woke in his bed the following morning. You figured he was in his office, and he was, with the door open.

He looked up from his computer with a smile. He’d put a t-shirt on, his light brown hair tousled now. You noted he didn’t have his usual cup of coffee with him.

“Good morning, darlin’. Sorry I didn’t mean to leave the bed so early, but I’ve got reports to send.”

“That’s okay.”

“I hope you slept well. Feel free to use the kitchen. I’ll join you when I’m done in a bit.”

You went to his kitchen, the counters lustrous in the morning light. Next to the fridge, something glinted. It was a bottle cap of his favourite beer from the night before, a foreign brand you’d never seen. You put the cap into your sweats pocket - a keepsake of your first visit to his. You made coffee for the both of you, and when you were scouring the cabinets for some sugar-

“Sorry, sweetheart, who are you?”

You gasped, turning to the kitchen entrance where the voice came from. It was a middle-aged woman, carrying grocery bags. She blinked, her smile polite but confused.

“Uhh, Phil?” You looked straight at her with wide eyes, at a loss for words.

“What is it, darlin’?” he replied from a distance.

“Phillip Graves?” the woman called out, voice thundering.

In a second, he rounded the corner.

“Mum. Hey, I wasn’t expecting you.” He took the bags from her hands, placing them on the counter before giving her a hug. “This, uh- this is a friend.” He gestured to you.

“Hi, Mrs. Graves.”

“Good morning, sugar.” She nodded at you, her eyes warmer as she unpacked the bags. “I stopped by to drop off some fruits. I was at the farmer’s market.” Her eyes flicked to you, a playful smile on her lips. “He never has anything in his house other than beer, does he?”

You let out a small laugh, and he had an amused smile as he shook his head.

“I’m still in the middle of something. I’ll finish up real quick.” He left again.

“He’s married to his job,” she commented as she opened the fridge, stocking it with the colourful produce she brought.

“Um, do you know where the sugar is by any chance?”

She turned to you and glanced at the two mugs on the counter. “If he hasn’t had his coffee yet by now, that’s probably because he’s out of sugar.” She smiled. “And you know how much of a sweet-tooth he is.”

You did.

She continued lining the fridge with apples. “He really does run on coffee. He never learnt to cook, that boy. Lucky he’s got you taking care of him.”

Your heart swelled. Did he tell her about you already?

“All done now,” she said, closing the fridge. “Tell him I say bye, will you?”

“Okay.”

She gave you a squeeze and pinched your cheek. “I’ll see you again soon, sugar.”

You beamed as you walked her to the door. She didn’t hate you, and it made you irrationally happy.

“Phil?” You stood at the door to his office. “Your mom just left, told me to tell you bye.”

He beckoned you to come in, and he pulled you to sit on his lap, his hand squeezing your thigh.

“You know why I said you’re a friend, don’t you? I promise I’ll tell her soon.” He gave you an easy smile. “It’s like introducing vegetables to a kid. You gotta do it in small doses.”

“That’s okay, I understand.“ It didn’t bother you seeing how warm she was towards you. Still, you held on to his words.

“Okay, I’m almost done now. I’ll drive you to your hotel to get ready and we’ll go out for lunch.”

As well as the day went, you went ahead of yourself, like you often did when things felt too good. It dawned on you this was a little dream, a fleeting paradise in your ordinary life. Like a ticking bomb, it was going to detonate into a million pieces, and you’ll wake up with nothing but little mice, a pumpkin, a tattered dress and the sweetest memory.

The demon lingered in the backroom of your mind, pounding relentlessly at the door, begging to be set free. You felt like you’d gone too deep, like you shouldn’t even have started with all this.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, hm, darlin’?” Phillip asked when you entered his house, tossing his keys into the entryway bowl.

You couldn’t even fake a smile.

“Did I do something to upset you?” He rubbed your arms and led you to the couch.

He turned your body to him, but you couldn’t meet his eyes. You couldn’t drown the riot in your head.

“Please. If it’s my fault, let me fix it.”

“How is this going to work?” Your eyes flicked to his, continuing in a smaller voice. “We don’t live close at all.”

“Got me worried there,” he exhaled, pulling you to his chest. “You can move here, of course.”

“It’s not that easy, is it?”

“I know it’s not. If I’m honest, I don’t have an answer for that yet.” He sighed as he caressed your hair. Silence lingered before he continued, “You know what my drill sergeant used to say? You can’t fly when you keep worrying about falling out of the sky.”

“You told me.” A smile flickered on your lips.

“We’re just a two-hour flight away from each other. As long as you still want this, don’t think too much of what’s going to come. It will work itself out.” He tilted your face to him by the chin. “We’ll work it all out.”

Perhaps he was right. You just needed to focus on what’s right in front of you. When you asked if you could extend your stay for a few more days, he gave you a peck on the lips.

He held you wordlessly for a long time until he got a call for an emergency meeting. He told you not to wait up if he wasn’t done in an hour. You hadn’t planned on staying the night, but you still had your toiletries from the other day. You got ready for bed and rescheduled your return flight, extending the timer on the proverbial bomb, even just for two more days. You wanted to float in this dream a little longer.

It was past 2 in the morning when your door creaked open. You turned, the dim light from the hallway bleeding into the dark.

“Why are you still up?” he asked, closing the door behind him.

“I should ask you the same thing.”

He turned the bedside lamp on and sat on the bed, holding your hand.

“I’ve been thinking. You’re really special to me, darlin’. I want to work this out. I promise we’ll find a way, okay?”

You choked out a sob. His words like balm to your burning chest. You sat up and wrapped your arms around him.

“You’re so emotional. It’s adorable.” He let out a small laugh as he stroked your back. “I love you.”

When your tears stopped flowing, he laid you down, caging you between his forearms as he kissed you. Your arm wrapped around his neck, a hand cupping his lightly stubbled jaw. You fell into the kiss, into the sensation of his perfect lips. His hand wandered, pinching, squeezing, rubbing, his lips unrelenting, ever intensifying.

You squirmed under him. “Phil, that’s- you’re being a bit rough.”

He pulled away. “My ex liked it this way.”

You appreciated his passion, but the comment didn’t sit right. He stilled for a second before lying beside you in silence. You didn’t know how long you lay there, but in the dark, your eyes blinked open at the click of the door.

Your heart drained, hollow, hanging by a thread like it was going to float away out of your gaping chest any second. What you thought was going to be a comforting night turned unkind, instead leaving you feeling less than. You let out an uneven breath, pulling the comforter closer around you, willing it to drown the ache.

The next morning, Phillip was quiet, not even meeting your eyes as he told you to get ready. It was jarring, when for days it was as if he couldn’t keep his hands off you, but that day felt like he didn’t even want you anywhere near him.

Perhaps he had a lot in mind, maybe something about his meeting the night before – you knew it happened sometimes, but this time, the stillness made you nervous. Rejected, unwanted, out of place. Something was brutally wrong and it hung heavy in the air, it made you hard to breathe.

He finally broke the silence when he pulled up at the hotel lobby. “This isn’t working out.”

You turned to him, not believing your ears. “What?”

“This is a mistake,” he declared.

“But… Last night, we just- You said you loved me.“

“Why are we talking like this is some kind of negotiation? It’s not.”

The harsh tone sent chills down your spine. He’d never used that voice on you.

“I thought you liked sex, sweetheart. Why’d you wear those cute outfits otherwise?” His smirk turned to a frown. “Also, you laugh too loud. It’s off putting.”

You froze in your seat, like you wanted to scream but your voice a prisoner in your throat. Your stomach churned, bitter, singeing.

“You didn’t think this was real, did you? Don’t worry, it’s not like I don’t want to see you again. We’ll get coffee when I visit, okay?”

Your lips quivered as you blinked your tears away, but you were not going to let yourself cry.

“Oh, come on! Don’t start crying now. You’re making me look like the bad guy.” He threw his hands up in exasperation.

Was he not? When he told you all those things, some of the kindest words anyone had ever said to you. When the gold he gave you was brass at heart.

“Fuck you, Graves.” You got out of the car, slamming the door shut. Your tears stained your cheeks as you walked away.

It was the last time you saw or heard from him until two months later.

Hey, just wanted to let you know I’m attached now. We’re visiting next month. Want to meet up?

You regretted not blocking his number. You wiped away the tear that slipped.

Three years later, the universe sprinkled chaos and stirred its pot. You met another Phillip. Your cousin asked if it was the Graves variety. You said no, with a smile brighter than you ever remembered smiling.

This one held your hand and brought you home to meet his mum. This one didn’t bring up his exes when you didn’t ask. This one laughed harder when you cackled.

This one didn’t have to lie about his intentions, because a few years later, his promise of forever came without you even having to ask.

Thanks @shadofireshinobi for making me write this <3

@tiredmetalenthusiast @two-gh0sts @rowanyaboats

172 notes · View notes

ckret2 · 3 months

Note

You know, after seeing your evil Ford au, I wonder what would happen if evil! Ford, met cannon! Ford. I feel like Cannon! Ford would hate him because he's just an example of what would happen if he haven't learned his lesson on perfection and how it's impossible to reach and how he doesn't need to impress people to be happy. I wonder what evil! Ford would think of his original counter part..would he be a little regretful? Since his cannon counterpart got more happiness than him? It's honestly intriguing to think about.

That's actually part of why I made Evil Ford: I was thinking about a dimension of lost Fords (like the dimension of lost Mabels in Don't Dimension It) and asked myself, which Ford alternate would Canon Ford most hate to meet?

So yeah you're right, Canon Ford would HATE Evil Ford—but not for thematic "you haven't learned the moral lesson about perfection & family" reasons. That's how audiences think about characters, it's not how people think about other people. When's the last time you hated somebody in real life because they missed the point of their own narrative arc—rather than because, say, they're rude to cashiers?

No, the reason Canon Ford hates Evil Ford is much simpler.

Similarly, meeting Canon Ford wouldn't make Evil Ford feel regretful because Evil Ford still thinks he made the right decision. What does he care if Canon Ford is "happier" if he only found contentment by—what—giving up on his high ambitions and settling for being a washed-up burnt-out ex-academic with no memorable achievements to his name? Evil Ford would rather die as a miserable overachiever than live as a peaceful slacker.

And he didn't spend thirty years on a completely different life path from Canon Ford without developing a totally different perspective.

Note: when Canon Ford found out Bill lied about the portal and declared he'd stop Bill no matter what, Evil Ford thinks that's Ford betraying Bill, not the other way around.

Also note: Evil Ford thinks Canon Ford is only motivated by anger over being deceived—not concern for the safety of the whole planet. Like yeah sure, he's HEARD that excuse; but that's what he thinks it is: an excuse. If he'd decided not to forgive Bill, he probably would've used the same excuse himself. A convenient, heroic-sounding moral justification for a thirty year vengence quest—but he doesn't really care that much about who's running the Earth, why would his alternate self?

(And really, Canon Ford? Thirty years? Thirty years?? You never found anything more productive to do with all that time than stalk your former mentor because you're MAD about ONE LIE?? If Canon Ford had said he thought killing Bill would net him more interdimensional fame and praise than he'd ever have as his underling, then Evil Ford could understand THAT—he himself has had misgivings about the fact that he's signed up to spend all eternity playing second banana—but as it is, though...)

Also also note: Evil Ford never reconciled with Fiddleford because he never acknowledged Fidds was "right" about Bill. He spent two-thirds of his life estranged from his brother. He moved across the country from his family. He made no friends in Gravity Falls, and likely no other college friends than Fidds. But he spent over half his life working with, dreaming with, living with Bill Cipher.

Evil Ford is evil; but he's not heartless.

Bill's the muse that gave him the blueprints he needed for his greatest invention and for the culmination of his life's work as a scientist and explorer. Bill's a near-god who hailed Ford as the greatest genius of his century, the man who's going to change the world, and via divine weirdness intervention he personally made sure that prophecy come true. Bill's the guy who—after Ford's embarrassing failure of a portal accident—welcomed Ford into his gang with open arms and the assurance that all his hard work wouldn't be for naught. He's Ford's longest-lasting friendship, his partner in crime and in science and in just about everything else by now, the person he trusts to puppet his body.

Is that a very skewed perspective on Bill? God, yeah. But it's Evil Ford's perspective.

If someone told you that all your suffering is due to the one person you trust most in all the world and the one person outside your family you care about the most—someone you've known for over thirty years—and your life would be so much better if you'd ditched this person the very first time you didn't get along—and that ditching them would have been the moral action—and that, in fact, you should have dedicated your life to killing this person...

Would you regret your life? Would you envy the life of the man who told you all this?

Or would you despise him?

How much more would you despise him if you knew he was you—had lived the same life as you—and that he had killed the most important person in your world?

Oh, Evil Ford resents the hell out of Canon Ford. Who are you—you slacker, you betrayer—to say you're "happier" than your counterpart? How do you deserve that "happy" ending? How is that fair?

Evil Ford only has one regret: not locking up his entire family before Weirdmageddon, where they'd all be safe... and where Bill would be safe from them.

#stanford pines #grunkle ford #gravity falls #evil ford au #fanart #my art #(I made these pictures much tinier than i usually draw to ensure they'd actually upload lmao)

121 notes · View notes

sporadically-writing · 1 year

Note

Hello! I saw you had requests open for Critical Role and was wondering if you could do a one shot maybe with Percy with a reader who comes from the modern world? And they joined the team and are both on watch for the team at night and have a heart to heart about their homes maybe? (Possible realization of one or the other or even both falling in love? 👀)

Howdy! Absolutely!

Quiet Moments

Pairing: Percy de Rolo x reader

Warnings: Trapped in a parallel world, slight sadness

Word Count: 663

Honestly, meeting someone who has traveled from other planes of existence is not the weirdest thing that has ever happened to Vox Machina. However, attempting to get you back to where you came from was a far more difficult task than anyone had previously believed.

To be fair to everyone, they tried everything they reasonably could to get you home. However, unfortunately, some things are beyond magic and everyone realized, you were stuck in Exandria.

Everyone felt terrible. In the time you had spent with them, you had quickly become a treasured friend amongst the group and despite your many differences and the learning curve it took for you to find a means of personal defense in this world, you fit into the group just fine.

Which meant seeing you so saddened by the fact that you would never return home again, weighed heavy on all their hearts.

Not sure what to say to you, they sadly left you to your own devices, hoping to cheer you up when the information wasn’t as fresh. Well, all of them except a certain gunslinger.

Percy, more so than anyone he knows, understands how your brain, when turned against you, can eat you alive. He might not have been able to prevent it for himself, but he wasn’t going to let you torture yourself with depressing thoughts alone.

He was quiet as he approached, respectful. Waiting for you to give him any sign that you wanted him to go.

When you didn’t he walked the rest of the way and sat beside you. He had to give it to you, for someone not from this plane, you sure knew how to find picturesque places to be contemplative.

He sat down on the other end of the log, watching the sunset for a moment. “You know,” he said, breaking the silence, “you always find the prettiest places to camp for the night.”

He was testing the waters, attempting to see if you would talk to him. In a rare moment, something Percy would vehemently deny if you asked him later, he found himself hoping to any deity that would hear him that his plan would work.

Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Kowalski De Rolo the Third is not a pious man. With the horrors he’s suffered one can imagine why his faith in the gods might not be as strong. But, he recognized the delicate nature of the situation and for his poor heart, he needed you to respond to him. To let him be there for you and help you in whatever small way he was capable.

He had lost a home once, he’d found a new one. Now he hoped he could guide you through the same.

To his surprise, whether it be luck, divine intervention or just wonderful you, you spoke. “Comes with not being from here I guess.”

Percy chuckled as lightly as his short breath in the moment would allow, “Yes, I suppose.”

He’s quiet again, slowly reaching over and taking one of your hands in his.

Surprised at the gesture you look at him. His expression is hidden momentarily as the setting sun glints off his glasses but in a moment, tortured yet hopeful green eyes turn to face you as Percy offers you a sheepish but well meaning smile.

Your heart squeezes a little as tears work their way to your cheeks and Percy does his best to comfort you.

Once you’re a little calmer, looking away but still holding your hand, Percy opens up. He tells you as much as he can manage while keeping his composure but you get it, comforting him a little as well.

You stay that way until you can fully see the stars. Hearts beating together, coming to terms with what is to come. Your hands are still entwined, a promise that whatever happens next, you’re there for each other.

You aren’t quite there yet, but there are marks of love in you both.

Navigation

Request Rules/Character Sheet

#percy de rolo x reader #critical role x reader #tlovm x reader #vox machina x reader #the legend of vox machina x reader #x reader #request

398 notes · View notes

evita-shelby · 3 months

Text

Incantatrice

Chapter 20

Cw: murder, suicide, ghosts and blood

A/N: friends, romans, countrymen, it has been an honor to write this fic with y'all

Special thanks to @thegreatdragonfruta @zablife @wandawiccan60 @call-sign-shark @cljordan-imperium and @minaethrym

It has been a year since Grace died in his arms. Had she lived would their marriage have survived the year, he wonders?

Would she have lived to leave him and take Charlie or would she have stuck by his side even as the Italians kill them one by one?

Tommy is pushed to call for a truce after Arthur’s death. So close to Grace’s death that their funerals take place the same day even if a year apart.

First John now Arthur. Only Finn remains and he has been packed off to Boston with Ada and Karl for their safety.

“Where will you go?” Polly asks him after she tells him of her plans to go to Australia and find Anna’s grave. Michael is hesitant to go, but keeps his knowledge of Polly’s deal with Luca a secret.

Self-preservation trumps all after all. Not that he blames them.

“Hell, finally.” Tommy is strangely at peace with it.

With Grace and Lizzie and little Charlie he had considered staying alive, but now he knows it was never the sapphire, he is the curse.

As long as he lives, everyone he loves will keep dying.

First with Grace and now with Arthur.

He might make it easier for Luca and just take his revolver into his mouth. No one but Tommy Shelby can kill Tommy Shelby.

They have lost anyways.

“I would have said there is still a chance, but I don’t think there is even if we had divine intervention.” The witch taps the card that came next in their last reading.

Two of cups, failure, loss.

The vendetta would be over, the Changrettas the winners.

But at least its over.

“If you can keep an eye on Charlie for me, I would forgive you for betraying me, Pol.”

His aunt nods sadly, and leaves to catch the last train to London.

“Do it, Thomas, we will be together again, me and you and Charlie watching us from heaven with Lizzie and little Ruby.” Grace’s voice said as if she stood behind him.

The way she adds Charlie’s name sends a shiver down his spine.

Had the Italians killed him?

“Luca doesn’t keep his promises, my love, he took my sweet boy even if he wasn’t your son.” The ghost says and he turns to see her in her modest clothes when she was a barmaid, when she pretended to be the woman he fell in love with. “Join us, while we wait for the others, Tom. Just take the gun and join us.”

And he does.

Thomas Shelby is thirty-six years old when he takes his own life.

On a two of cups he wrote: “You did not keep your word.”

And just like that, it is over.

The villain defeated, the dead avenged and England ripe for the taking.

And yet Eva’s wine tastes like blood all the same.

It never got easier for her, killing even indirectly always made her see how further and further the light is.

“Tonight we celebrate our victory, maga. Tomorrow my mother comes with the children and our new life truly begins.” Luca takes the glass and kissed her hands drenched in blood only she can see.

“You killed them all didn’t you?” He is covered in blood as well, but his have the handprints of children on his pristine white shirt.

Luca plays dirty, she should’ve known he wont let them live.

“A vendetta is a vendetta, I couldn’t take any chances, Eva.” He explains his actions so well she can almost believe his lies.“I didn’t want to, but I had to, vita mia.”

He wanted then dead, always has.

His brother and father’s death only gave him the reasons to finally do it.

“Why?” she asks as to why he’d go so far.

Polly and Michael never got on their train, Ada and the two boys never reached Benjamin Younger where he waited for them to start their life together.

Every single drop of Shelby blood had been spilled over the earth on his orders while they celebrated Tommy’s suicide.

“Because I don’t forgive those who betray me.” Luca’s hold on her wrists become manacles, manacles that won’t ever come off now.

The shadow that she saw the day they married had never left, how could it leave when it had become them.

A year ago today the shadow had begun to consume Luca and now the transformation was complete.

The man who stands before her has become the true devil of Birmingham, and she his queen.

He is not the man you think he is, she can hear Audrey’s warnings.

But I do know him, the witch reminds herself, they’d been married for six years and she knows him.

She should’ve known he wasn’t going to stop until everyone was dead. And now that Shelby was gone, he wouldn’t stop until all of England fears the Black Hand.

Sabini will learn that the hard way when he outlives his use to her husband. Poor little Aurora will die just like her parents and siblings will too.

And because she loves him, she will help him every step of the way.

“A good thing I never plan to, mi amor.” The witch let go of his hands and wrapped them around his neck.

No matter what she will never regret choosing him over all the men the world had offered her that day.

With a kiss she lets the darkness consume her as it seeps in through her mouth in a loving kiss.

Fin

#eva smith shelby #luca changretta x eva smith #luca x eva #incantatrice #luca wins the vendetta au #peaky blinders fanfiction #evacore #tw: blood #tw: suidice

25 notes · View notes

hiphopncountrychick · 3 months

Text

J. Cole: A Hip-Hop Icon Who Raps Without Guns, Gangs or Negativity

In the world of hip-hop, where the spotlight often shines on extravagant tales of violence, gangs, and materialism, one artist has consistently stood out for his commitment to authenticity and positivity. J. Cole, born Jermaine Lamarr Cole, is an iconic figure in the rap industry who has managed to make a profound impact without resorting to the glorification of guns, gangs, or negativity in his music. With thought-provoking lyrics and a dedication to being true to himself, J. Cole has carved out a unique path in the rap world.

On this special day, January 28th, we celebrate the birth of one of hip-hop's most influential figures - J Cole. Known for his insightful lyrics, powerful storytelling, and raw authenticity, J Cole has carved a niche for himself in the music industry. Let's dive into the remarkable journey of the artist who started rapping at the age of 12 and has since become a triple platinum-selling artist with his groundbreaking album, "2014 Forest Hill Drive."

Early Years and Passion for Hip-Hop:

Born Jermaine Lamarr Cole on January 28, 1985, in Frankfurt, Germany, J Cole developed a passion for hip-hop at a young age. Growing up in Fayetteville, North Carolina, he began rapping at the tender age of 12, showcasing his innate talent and determination to make a mark in the world of music.

The Struggles and Triumphs:

J Cole's journey to success was not without its challenges. After graduating magna cum laude from St. John's University, he faced the harsh realities of the music industry. Working odd jobs to support himself, Cole's perseverance eventually caught the attention of Roc Nation, where he would later cross paths with hip-hop mogul Jay-Z.

Meeting Jay-Z and Signing to Roc Nation:

In 2007, J. Cole was on a rap website and he read an article on how Jay Z was making his tenth studio album, American Gangster. J. Cole had high hopes of meeting Jay-Z and being signed under him.

After reading the article, J. Cole conceived of a plan on how he could make beats for Jay-Z’s American Gangster. He saw this as an opportunity, a calling from divine intervention to pursue this path to get himself in the limelight of music. He said it was as if “God is telling me to get on this album. So I was praying for it.” This was going to be how he was going to get on as a rapper.

With his plan in mind, Cole went to work and carefully selected all his best beats for Jay-Z. Cole and his friend got all the beats on a CD and waited outside the Roc the Mic studio in the rain waiting for Jay-Z to arrive. They had a hunch that Jay-Z would be there to finish working on the American Gangster album.

Two hours passed before Jay-Z showed up in a black Rolls Royce Phantom. The opportunity came, standing in front of J. Cole was the person who he had visualized, dreamt of meeting, and moved to New York for. This was the person who could hand him his ticket from his overdue rent and into stardom. As he walked up to Jay-Z, words refused to form but J. Cole mustered up the courage to approach Jay-Z and hand him the CD.

Jay-Z saw Cole and said “Man, I don’t want that.” Cole in an interview with ABC said that “I thought he was evil at that point — cause it caught me off guard, I had such high hopes, that just one little phrase like that from him.”

A year later, it was Jay-Z asking to meet J. Cole. The same person he previously dismissed. Veteran A&R Mark Pitts played for Jay-Z one song which lead to a three-hour meeting which lead to multiple meetings until eventually, J. Cole was officially the first artist signed to Roc Nation.

Things will materialize sooner or later as long as you stay persistent.

"2014 Forest Hill Drive": A Masterpiece Unveiled:

In 2014, J Cole released his magnum opus, "2014 Forest Hill Drive." This album, named after the address of his childhood home, is a deeply introspective work that earned critical acclaim and achieved triple platinum status. The tracks not only showcase Cole's lyrical prowess but also offer a raw and unfiltered glimpse into his life, covering themes of love, fame, and societal challenges.

A journey of trials and tribulations combined with lessons learned is what Jermaine Cole experiences. A vivid picture of each phase of his journey gets depicted beautifully to me.

In life, I believe that we all get distracted from different environments and prioritize materialistic things such as social media and use it as our main source of love, mistakenly.

In this album, Cole vividly portrays that this should not be the case and instead, we should prioritize non materialistic things such as friends, family, and home to bring happiness.

"Love Yourz" and "No Role Modelz" are emblematic of the album's brilliance, marrying profound messages with infectious beats. "2014 Forest Hill Drive" not only propelled J Cole into the mainstream but also solidified his position as a storyteller capable of weaving intricate narratives through his music.

Conclusion:

As we celebrate J Cole's birthday, it's not merely an acknowledgment of the passing years but a celebration of an artist who transformed dreams into reality. From the streets of Fayetteville to international acclaim, J Cole's journey is a testament to talent, resilience, and authenticity. So, to those unacquainted with his work, take a deep dive into the world of J Cole – an artist who not only raps but leaves an indelible mark on the soul of a generation.

As we conclude this deep dive into the life and artistry of J Cole, I invite you to join the conversation. What resonated with you the most about J Cole's journey? Share your thoughts, drop a like, and let me know your favorite J Cole song. Engage with me in the comments, unraveling the lyrical tapestry that defines his impact on the hip-hop landscape.

I want to hear from you—what aspect of J Cole's life or discography would you like us to explore next? Your feedback fuels my passion for storytelling. Don't forget to share this article with fellow music enthusiasts. Let's create a community that celebrates the artistry of J Cole and anticipates what's next. Thank you for being part of this journey. Stay tuned for more tales from the world of music!

Honorable mentions:

@todayinhiphophistory

@hiphop

@music

@jcoleofficial

#j cole #hiphop #hip hop #music #rap #spotify #album review #today in hip hop history

24 notes · View notes

endless-ofdreams · 1 year

Text

have a laugh !

yandere!jester x queen!reader.

“ your majesty? ”

your attention fell from the food in front of you as a faithful servant, the teacher of your whole life, called for you.

“ yes? ” your smooth voice almost made their legs fall with shame. but they stood their ground.

with careful steps, they took two, looking at you with a soft smile. “ you know i've helped your family for many ages- ” they interrupted themselves, clearing their throat before clasping their hands together in front of them. “ and such an honor it has been. ” they finish their sentence with a soft sigh.

you drink the last sip of wine in your cup, leaving it next to your golden plate. “ i am well aware. ” you said, not in a mocking manner, but just like them; remembering those days where you were not less than a princess, following your parents around the garden as they explained the numerous plants in the place. who would've thought that months later your parents were to fall ill because a venomous leaf made their way into their hands. “ and for that i appreciate your presence and guidance. please. ” you lowered your head as a sign of a passive attitude. “ tell me what's brought your here. ”

they nodded, quite happy to see that their teaching haven't been in vain and that you were indeed a good monarch.

“ i only wish to gift you the idea of marriage. ”

a small sad smile made it's way into your face. “ really? ”

“ i do not wish to impose. ” they raised their hands. “ of course, i only advice what's good for the kingdom as my knowledge lets me. ”

you raised your hand. “ do not fret yourself, my dear friend. ” your silky voice retounded in the throne room. “ i completely understand. do you not remember how my parents would tease me with that too? ” you giggled at the memory of your mother threading your hair as she explained what was needed to be done to secure your home. “ even my father had some arranged meetings. ” you sighed. “ sadly, that did not follow. ” another sad smile.

your maester felt themselves smile at the thought. “ of course. how can i forget? ”

“ let's go past those memories and allow us to return to the present. ” you stood up, the servants around you suddenly alarmed but you didn't pay much attention; they've been like this since your first years. they thought of you as delicate being the only legitimate heir of your parents as your brothers and sister would die at birth.

“ what do you recommend me to do? ” you asked as you walked outside the room with them following beside you, their hands behind their back as yours were gracefully in front of you, together.

“ do you, for divine intervention, remember the list your father made? ” they asked with hope. “ some names at least? ” they quickly added at the sight of your frown.

“ i am afraid to dissapoint, ” they sighed beside you, “ i do not. ” you smiled as a type of reassurance. “ but. ”

as you reached your chambers, or as you still called your parents room in your mind, you both stopped at the big doors that closed the entrance to the most big room of the palace. “ i trust in you to choose them. i'd gladly help but i am afraid... ” you trailed off.

“ i totally understand. your majest has far more important matters to attend. ” they lowered their head as a reverence, taking a step back. “ thank you, your grace. ”

you smiled at that, turning around to open the doors before they stopped you with a soft grab to your shoulders. “ your parents would've been so proud. ”

at the feeling of tears burning your eyes, you just smiled before nodding. “ you're dismissed. ” you said before entering the room.

your maester smiled, feeling content that the discussion went well and thanking the gods they didn't had a brat monarch as they had listened rumors about in other kingdoms (which makes him add a mental note to not put them on the list they would give you soon), making their way to their studio.

to the naivety of the both of you, bells sounded rounding the corner, the shadow of a tall body made it's way to the light before the maester could see as their entered their own room.

a laugh escaped you and the ones around you as your beloved jester made their tricks, falling flat in his body as you closed your eyes for a second to regain your breathe. just as you did, the jester raised himself off the floor, raising their hands; finishing his show.

you and a bunch of other monarchs applauded in delight, you, as always, being the most loud of them all. and at that, the jester exhaled a sigh before smiling widely.

“ oh, dear jester! ” you exclaimed as you made your way to him, his smile getting more wider (if that could be possible), hugging you sideways as you held him the same. you returned your attention to your guests. “ as you all may know. a tragedy came upon this castle. ” the room turned silent, knowing this to be a heartfelt speech. “ my parents died before i could be considered a proper queen, ” you softly smiled. “ but my maester taught me how to be one- if time and my people allow it.” everyone agreed with small hums or a soft 'yes'. “ and my beloved best friend. ” you turned to the jester one more time, who smiled again at the sight of your ethereal face so close to his. “ this person has brought a smile to my face, has made me laugh in the most blue moments of my life and for that, i thank him dearly. ”

“ your welc- ” he started with his silky voice.

everyone clapped after a few seconds of silence, you hugged him while that happened and the jest couldn't help himself in smelling your essence. cinnamon from your tea, wine from your latest drink and a small smell of cherry. he smiled as you broke the hug. “ thank you, my jester. ” a sudden charge of adrenaline went through him at the possesive adjective to which adorned your voice greatly.

“ your grace! ”

the jester furiously turned around to the sound of the aggravating voice that interrupted the moment.

you, on the contrary, smiled at the sight of the duke of a close place near your kingdom, someone of your own age you once considered a brother at how close you were.

“ my friend. ” you said with emotion in your voice as you walked away from jester, who clenched his fists and jaw at the... disgusting filth of a man- no, not a man, a boy. “ how are you? ” you softly asked as you hugged him. and he returned it too, while closing his eyes.

“ well, i have heard from your dear maester that you're planning to marry? ” the duke asked as he broke the hug, his hands still in your arms.

you chuckled, quite flustered at the thought of your old friend telling that to everyone in the kingdom. “ yes. ” you simply said although the smile in your face reassured your friend that you held no malice intent in that simple word.

“ may you choose a worthy companion. ” he bowed, taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles as he saw you with a charming gaze. “ my queen. ”

the jester walked away in mad anger, taking off his hat, the funny sound of bells dying as he threw it to the side without anyone paying a single piece of attention as he stormed out the room. meanwhile, you, obliviously, kept talking to your old friend.

you left the party few moments after that, saying goodbye to your guests and inviting them to stay until morning if they wished so. a lot agreed while a few left. you left them in charge to your guards, to protect them and your maester, to watch them.

you were preparing yourself for bed, taking all adornments in your head, before some harsh knocks sounded behind the doors to your chambers.

“ come in! ”

a bunch of servants appeared, mostly females. one of them walked closer to you as she spoke. “ your grace, forgive us for intruding like this- but. ” she gulped. “ there's been a murder. ”

your eyes widened as a hit of dejá-vu hit you.

“ princess, we must go! ”

your cries could be heard through the corridors as you saw almost all the servants, even the chefs and maids, running to your parents chambers.

“ b-but my father- my mother! ”

the maester held you back, even if you were a teenager, with strength. the only last thing you saw before a maid scurrying inside the door to the room was your father's face. open eyes and wide mouth while white foam ran from his nose to his jaw.

you shook your head as you felt two hands holding you, a bunch of maids surrounded you as they tried to fan you with their dirty dresses but they stopped as you blinked.

“ f-forgive me. ”

“ your majesty, please follow us. ”

and you did. as the maids walked you, still dressed with the gown you decided to wear., to the throne room and as the doors opened, all chatting went quiet and everyone bowed. you raised your hand before walking to the throne, sitting on it.

everyone looked at you with wide eyes.

“ who will be kind enough to explain? ”

silence kept going for a while before a single hand in the crowd caught your attention. everyone around the owner scattered. jester.

you smiled as you nodded. “ please, dear friend. ” you extended a hand to the front, where it was empty as everyone was crowded in the back of the room; apparently feeling safer in that area.

the jester bowed, taking his hat as he swiftly moved it from his side to the ground for a few seconds before standing up and putting his hat again. the bells sounding gloomy like the atmosphere around the room.

“ my beloved queen. i see myself as a friend in your life, may i dare say. ” you nodded again, showing him he was right. “ and with so much right a friend may have, i choose myself to announce you the most dreadful news and to offer you my most genuine condolences. ”

your breath quickened as the words seemed similar to you.

“ the maester is dead. ”

a sob ripped it's way to your lips. your hand flew to your mouth to cover it but everyone could see your trembling eyes and watery eyes. you looked away for a while before letting some clear tears leave your eyes, maids around you lowering their heads as they also mourned the death of the most oldest and wisest of everyone in the kingdom.

you returned your gaze to him, which seemed to still stand still.

“ i was informed of a murder. ” your soft voice no longer could be spotted. instead, a harsh tone that made even the toughest soldier tremble replaced it.

the jester nodded. “ i saw it, your grace. with my own eyes. ” with his free hand, he pointed at his red eyes that always seemed to shine with humor and happiness.

“ tell me. ”

and just in time, the doors opened with the only people missing in the room. two guards and... your friend.

you frowned as the duke tried to free himself from the strong arms of your guards holding him down while screaming.

“ d-duke? ” you shakily asked, trying to deny your ideas- trying to fool yourself from the obvious observation.

that seemed to have his attention as his head snapped to your direction, his eyes red and wide, his nose running and his jaw and left cheek stained with a few spots of blood. “ your majesty, i didn't do it! ”

the jester laughed, making some people behind him tremble as they have never heard your jester laugh with such a dry and empty emotion. “ a clown trying to fool the queen. ” he turned his hed slightly to the side. “ that's supposed to be my job. ” a few chuckled were heard while you still stood in disbelief.

you turned to the jester, once again. “ jester. ”

he turned to see you, with a soft smile; one you used to gave as reassurance. “ my queen. ”

“ explain me- us, what happened. ”

“ majesty- ” the poor man tried to talk.

“ silence, you fool! ” but you didn't gave him a chance.

the jester held his smile back. his victory smile as he cleared his throat, walking towards you. “ what happened, your grace, is that i was returning to my personal room, to take off my makeup and clothes and get a well deserved rest after i noticed the guests no longer required entertainment to enjoy themselves. ” he explained with his soothing voice, everyone hypnotized by this. “ and as i walked beside the maester's studio, i heard an altercation and, trying to protect who your majesty helds dear, i went inside. and there it was. ” he pointed at the criminal, whose eyes went wide again at the accusation. “ this monster stabbing our dearest elder. ”

you gasped as your attention once again went to the one you once considered a friend.

“ no. NO, IT WASN'T ME! ” his screams increased in agony as he could feel all the judging gazes towards him. “ WHY WOULD I KILL HIM?! ”

“ ha! i know that too, you filth! ” the jester pointed at him again, a sickening smile in his face whiche everyone but the duke seemed to miss. “ before i found you covered in blood, i specifically remember you asking about the majesty's plans to marry, correct? ”

you looked at the duke with a scowl and a fierce gaze, making him look at the floor for comfort instead.

“ y-yes... ” he whispered as gasps filled the room. “ but it's not for what you think! ” desperately, he begged for mercy, for a chance to explain.

the jester opened his arms, bells sounded as he raised his eyebrows. “ jealousy! ”

everyone in the room seemed to feel the mourning as they started to shout at him, a few wifes even throwing their jewelry in hopes of hurting him.

you stood up from your throne.

again, the room went silent.

“ you know i hold you close to my heart as... i held-...” you gulped. “ the maester and my parents. ” you clasped your hands in front of you, your head laying to the side. “ but, as they taught me, i should not judge without proof. ”

the jester nodded silently.

“ what do you have, dear jester? ” you asked, exhausted and emotional.

everyone gasped as the guards threw the suspect to the ground, the jester walking to him as he, as delicate as a jester could be he ripped the collar of the duke's clothes making a layer fall from it. a metallic sound ringed through the room followed by some gasps.

you walked to stand behind his frame, gasping as your hand touched the jester's shoulder, to which he answered with his own hand above yours, delicately tracing your knuckles with his thumb; the sight of a dagger tainted with blood made your knees weak and you held the body of your only alive friend in a crushing hug filled with desesperation.

the screams of the duke were still loud and strong but you managed to block the disgusting sound of his voice.

the jester cooed at you, caressing your locks as he kissed the side of your head. “ i'm sorry, my queen. ” he whispered next to your ear, fighting the urge of kissing your trembling lips.

you immediately shook your head. “ no. ” you looked at him with tears in your eyes and fire in your iris. “ don't ask for my forgiveness, it's not your fault. ” you stood straight, a hard sigh left your lips and sniffling, you cleaned your tears before turning around, facing him.

“ you are charged with the murder of the maestre of the palace and for that, i will have your life in return! ” your voice grew in volume as the desperate cries of the criminal tried to make you change your mind. what a fool, he must know that hate is stronger than compassion.

you turned around, walking to your throne once more; followed by the sorrowful cries and the light sobs of the crowd as the duke was taken by the same soldiers that brought him.

when the doors closed, everyone started murmuring between themselves.

a murder for jealousy?

who would've thought the duke to be a killer? for love, nevertheless!

doesn't he have various concubines? why not choose from them?

doesn't he have a wife?

a gasp. was he planning in killing her next?

“ honorable people! ” the jester exclaimed, driving everyone's attention to him. “ i know this is too much for everyone to have in mind and for that, i apologize in behalf of your majesty and everyone present. i beg of you to sleep peacefully tonight, the killer has been found and he won't do any more harm thanks to the justice made by the hand of our marvelous queen. ”

words of affirmation sounded through the room. the jester smiled.

“ so, please, return to your homes. this celebration is over. rest. ”

everyone nodded and grabbed the hand of their companion, afraid they might dissappear. the jester walked to you, standing next to your throne as the doors closed; leaving you alone with him and two guards.

you touched your forehead as the consequence of crying so hard hit your head.

“ my dear queen. ” his voice, smooth as silk and sweet as cake, cooed at you as he crouched down in front of you at your right side.

you softly smiled as the sight of a familiar face. “ my dear jester. ” you held his hand. “ i won't ever lose you, right? please. ” you rambled before sighing, no longer wanting to cry. “ tell your queen you won't leave. she commands it. ”

the jester chuckled, caressing your hand before kissing your knuckles, a bit of his lipstick staining your hand. “ i won't ever leave you, my queen. my life is yours as my soul, my breath is for you to take and have, my heart beats for your orders and smile. command and i shall obey. ”

you giggled at his silliness, “ you always know how to entertain me... even in such gloomy events. ” you whispered the last part, a frown appearing while you watched both of your hands together.

“ will you tell me a story to sleep? ” you suddenly ask, jester only raised his eyebrows in slight surprise, you were quick to add: “ i just want to know you're there with me, like before. ”

he smiled at the memory of a ten year old you, he no being older than five years, smiling at him as he recited a story while your parents watched from behind with a smile of their own.

“ your wish is my command, my queen. ”

you smiled with him.

after all, aren't jesters terrific storytellers?

#yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere #soft yandere #yancore #male yandere #female reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere x you #yandere blog

294 notes · View notes

janetbrown711 · 1 year

Text

The World is Not a Nice Place (to those of us who breathe)

Pigsy has a pretty good gig for himself: a nice little restaurant, a cute regular customer (who's name he keeps forgetting to ask), and a place to call his own. However, his life changes forever when two orphans hide out in his storage closet to hide from the police.

AKA Pigsy adopts MK and Mei as kids AU <333 This will be a whole series, so prepare for a lot of cute dadsy content and lil Mei and MK (as well as some divine intervention bc why not).

Part 1 Part 2

Ao3 Link

Pigsy was the proud owner of a little noodle shop his grandma helped him set up called “Pigsy’s Noodles'' and it was his pride and joy. He’d been running it alone for two years now after a teenage and young twenties-hood of running around, getting into fights, and getting severely traumatized with his best friend. It was his grandmother’s suggestion when Sandy threw in the towel leaving Pigsy aimless, and he couldn’t thank her enough for it.

It was different without her around, certainly not any easier, but being a local business in a city that was only being more commercialized by the second gave his place an identity and authenticity no chain restaurant could ever replicate, so business was stable.

Sure, he didn’t exactly live a life of luxury, but his studio apartment above the restaurant was all he needed. He was a pig of the simple life, according to his grandma anyways.

That didn’t mean he didn’t miss the chaos and Sandy, whom he hadn’t seen since… well.. a while, but that didn’t mean he was completely alone. He had this one regular who came in to work on his capstone for his masters and applications for doctorate programs who was kinda funny and cute and smart. Granted, he rarely ever paid his tab, but Pigsy liked listening to him ramble about the Legends of Sun Wukong, so that kind of made up for it.

If only Pigsy could ever remember to actually ask for his name.

Today was going to be a slow day, Pigsy knew that. Grey storm clouds covered the sky, giving the city an almost haunted feeling. It would probably rain soon enough too, so any hopes of foot traffic were dashed. His regular was still there, of course, but something was off with him too. He was quiet, reading something on his laptop with a worried brow, which worried Pigsy too.

“You– uh– readin’ the news?” Pigsy asked, drying a glass off with a towel to mask his concern.

“Yeah– there was a huge fire last night. You know that ancient ancestral home to the descendants of the White Horse Dragon?”

Pigsy nodded.

“It burned down, as well as an apartment complex nearby,” The regular turned his laptop around to show the chef. Pigsy got a good glance at it before cringing.

“Yeesh– is everyone okay?” He asked. The semi-stranger shook his head.

“The owners are both confirmed to have died, but no one can find their daughter, and there are at least ten dead from the apartment fire,” he turned his laptop back around.

“Dang, how old is she?” Pigsy asked, setting the glass down.

“Seven, I think.”

Goddamn.

“Hope the kid’s okay,” Pigsy looked out the window, staring at the neon glow of his sign against the dull gray sky.

He should probably close.

“Hey um– you got any more dissertation writing to do today? I’m thinkin’ about closing early” Pigsy asked.

The man sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, lifting his glasses up as he did. “I don’t know if I can focus on that, but I know I can’t really go home– it reeks of smoke since I live a block down from all that.”

“O-oh, right, yeah– uhm… feel free to stay as long as you need then, I won’t close til you’re all good,” Pigsy blushed, thinking about how stupid that idea was.

The stranger gave him a soft smile. “Thanks.”

“Ah, no problem– so long as you actually make a dent in that tab of yours,” Pigsy tried to tease but got something in his throat halfway through that made him cough and therefore sound like a flustered idiot.

The stranger laughed a little and went back to his laptop, while Pigsy went to clean the grill, desperate to scrape away his embarrassment.

Almost twenty eight and he was out here blushing like a piglet.

The pair were silent again for a while, except for the occasional siren or two as police drove down the street, which was hardly an unusual sound for Megapolis. However, after a bit of this, Pigsy and the customer both jumped when they heard pots and pans crash to the floor in the back.

“Was that a rat?” The man asked.

“No-! That’s ridiculous-!” Pigsy defended, his face red as a tomato. “I’ll go check it out– I swear this place is sanitary,” Pigsy quickly turned off the grill, grabbed a broom and prayed he was right.

He went back to the back of the restaurant, frowning when he saw the back door was open, though only a crack. With a sigh, he went and shut it, sure to click the lock this time and now really really praying there wasn’t a rat or any other pests.

“Anyone in here?” He called out. He wasn’t exactly shocked when there wasn’t a response, but as he got closer to the storage closet, he could swear he heard something shuffling– probably an animal like he suspected (he was usually so vigilant about the door dammit– this was so stupid). Now holding the broom like a weapon, he approached the closet door carefully and quietly, listening to more shuffling before quickly grabbing the doorknob and flinging the door open, causing two shrieks of children to ring out.

“Pleasepleaseplease dont’t hurt us-!”A little boy cried out, shielding his friend– a girl– with his arms and trembling.

Kids??? What the fuck were kids doing here???

Quickly, Pigsy flicked on the lightswitch and set the broom down.

“What’re you two doing here? This is a private business and I don’t–” Pigsy was going to lecture more but noticed the girl who was crying a lot and looked oddly familiar.

“S-sorry, Mister, w-we didn’t know– we’re sorry about the pot i-it’s just–” The boy apologized but the girl interrupted.

“I-i didn’t mean to do it, I-i was just trying to c-clean a-and– a-a-and n-n-now m-mom n’ d-dad are– a-a-are– a-and so we just– and then the cops– a-a-and–” The girl couldn’t get through her sentence before choking on her tears.

Wait a minute…

Holy shit.

“You’re the missing dragon girl, aren’t you?” Pigsy knelt down. The girl nodded her head as she hugged her knees close to her chest.

“D-don’t tell anyone, please,” The boy pleaded. “ ‘specially the cops, they’re spooky.”

Pigsy snorted. “Yeah I know that, but you can’t just hide here kiddo, people are looking for you– maybe even your family.”

“MK’s my family, I don’t have anyone else,” The girl sniffled. “A-and those guys are scary, th-their eyes are all red.”

“Red eyes? Kid, I know cops are bastards, but they don’t have–” Pigsy stopped to think for five seconds before suddenly getting very, very worried.

Demons.

“Look, I won’t tell anyone you’re here, but how’s about you move to the kitchen where I can keep a better eye on you two, okay?” He said, looking over his shoulder at the backdoor. As the kids nodded and slowly stood up, he grabbed the padlock on the high shelf and put it around the back door for extra security, before going back to the kids, who were watching nervously.

“Look uh– just keep your heads low and stay behind the bar, there should be some room for you two if I shift some boxes around,” Pigsy scratched his head and went out to the kitchen, but the kids didn’t follow him.

“Everything okay back there?” His regular asked, lowering the lid of his laptop.

“Y-yeah-! Yeah, just– um… keep studying,” He smiled nervously. The semi-stranger gave him a curious look before raising the lid and getting back to work. He quickly went back and found the kids still standing in the doorway of the storage closet looking down.

“Hey, what’s the matter with you two?” Pigsy asked softly. The girl pulled on her long black hair nervously and sniffled.

“I-i’m scared they’ll see us,” She confessed.

Pigsy immediately got on one knee and placed a hand on her and the boy– MK–’s shoulder. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you two, okay? You have my word.”

The kids exchanged weary glances before nodding. Pigsy gave them a weak smile before standing, reminding them to stay low before leading them out to the kitchen where they remained creeping low, but not before the regular saw them.

“Um… hi,” His customer gave a wave to MK and the girl, who froze.

“It’s okay kiddos, he’s a–” Pigsy glanced at him.

“A friend,” The man finished his sentence for him, which made Pigsy blush a little.

“Oh– hi-!” MK waved a little before getting on his knees and hiding under the bar like Pigsy instructed, which the girl shortly followed.

“Mind telling me why you have kids hiding under your bar?” The scholar teased a little.

“Ah– well uh–” he glanced down at the pair, who were having a silent conversation with hand signals he didn’t know.

“There’s some trouble stirring up right now and they needed somewhere safe to stay so I figured why not keep ‘em in my line of sight, you know?” He shrugged at the half-truth.

“Oh, that’s really sweet of you,” The man said with a smile, going back to his laptop so he didn’t notice Pigsy’s face turning dark red once more before he turned around and got back to cleaning.

After a while of casual silence, Pigsy heard the bell ring and muttered to himself when he heard them say “Megapolis Police, we’re here looking for a little girl, Mei Dragon. She’s long black hair and was last seen in a green jacket with white shorts and sneakers.”

“You see any kids here?” Pigsy scoffed as he scraped off the fond from a pot.

“Look here, wise guy, we’re gonna search this place whether you like it or not,” One of them snarled, but Pigsy just rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” He said, setting the pot down to dry while picking up an iron skillet. One of the cops– a slightly smaller but still plenty muscular one– eyed him.

“This’ll be quick anyways,” The officer said.

“Better be, or else you’re gonna scare off my customers,” He crossed his arms and stood in front of the cupboard where the kids were hiding. He glanced at his regular, who seemed just as annoyed at the presence of police as he was.

The officers huffed and began snooping around, looking under tables and in the bathrooms, getting huffier the more and more they didn’t find the girl– Mei.

Man, Pigsy was really bad about asking for names.

When the cops went to the back, Pigsy heard the girl start crying again. Pigsy bit his cheek before crouching down again and asking what the matter was.

"S-sorry, Mr. Piggy, I-I don't know why– I-i just keep–"

"Hey, it's okay kid, you just gotta be quiet for a little bit longer and then the scary guys will leave and we can find you somewhere a lot safer to be, okay?"

The girl rubbed her eyes with her jacket sleeve and nodded, which was when Pigsy noticed her eyes were glowing emerald green.

So uh… that was interesting.

"Does she normally…?" He turned to MK who nodded.

Alrighty then.

“Hey– there’s the dragon brat-!” One of the cops shouted from the doorway to the back.

Shit.

“Yeah well if you want her, you’re gonna have to go through me,” Pigsy huffed, gripping the pan and going into a fighting stance. Just like that, the cops shed their skins to reveal they were actually just a massive tiger and the larger one leapt towards Pigsy, who knocked him as hard as he could in the jaw with the skillet, sending him into the grill.

“Woah-!” The girl watched in awe, bringing Pigsy way back.

“Oh my stars– Are you okay-?!” The regular closed his laptop and shoved it into his bag frantically.

“You good at running?” Pigsy asked as the smaller one jumped to attack, but he whacked them away too.

“Can be under pressure-!” The man quickly slid his bag around his shoulder.

“Great– take the kids and run,” Pigsy said, taking MK’s arm and pulling him out of the hiding spot before placing him on top of the bar, then doing the same with Mei.

“Right uh– Let’s get going then-!” He said, helping the kids jump down as the bigger tiger demon got up and tried jumping towards Mei, but Pigsy got a hold of his neck and was able to hold him back and thankfully the kids and sexy customer were able to get out. However, he must not have hit the second guy hard enough because he was back and instantly tackled Pigsy to the ground and gave him a nasty gash in his shoulder with his claw, tearing through his chef’s shirt. Pigsy was able to kick the guy off of him, and when he saw the bigger guy was making a run for it, he grabbed the nearest bottle of rice vinegar and threw it at him, which shattered against his head on impact.

“Ha-! Take that ya bastard-!” Pigsy was pleasantly surprised his aim was still good, especially with his arm stinging severely from the previously mentioned gash.

“Alright, piggy, you wanna do this?” The tiger turned away from the entrance.

Ah, fuck– Where’s Sandy when you need him?

He hit the smaller in the face with the skillet again, before having to duck to avoid the bigger one leaping at him once again. Thankfully, his size and strength failed him when he overestimated how much power to put into that and he went crashing straight through the wall (which was not good for Pigsy’s bills, but priorities).

Jiangjun– we need the dragon, not the bacon,” The smaller tiger growled and stood.

“You were the ones pretending to be cops,” Pigsy growled and leaned against the bar, trying not to wince in pain.

“This is a mercy, Pig Man,” The big demon got up and snarled. “You can’t kill us, but we can kill you.”

Before Pigsy could protest again, the tigers bolted out of the restaurant, and Pigsy scrambled to keep up.

The street quickly turned into a mad panic as people bolted out of the way of the tiger demons, which was kind of good because there was a clear path for Pigsy to follow. Did he have a plan? No. Did his arm hurt with every attempt at running? Yes. Did he even know why he was sticking his neck this far out for these kids? Kind of– He wasn’t heartless– if kids are in danger he’ll protect them, that’s how normal people responded.

He also hoped his regular was okay– if they lived he was going to make sure he asked for his name.

When he caught sight of the trio, they were dashing around a corner, and the demons quickly followed. Pigsy was starting to fall behind and so said a quick prayer to whatever and picked up the pace, mortified when he turned that corner and found they got themselves backed into an alley.

“Nowhere to run, Little Dragon,” The bigger tiger licked his lips and got on all fours. Pigsy scrambled for something to grab, but the smaller tiger pounced on him and that quickly became a struggle of its own.

“Mr. Piggy!” Mei cried out, her eyes still glowing but flickering to a wine red. She balled her little hands into fists and stepped away from MK, who was forced to let go of her arm and so grabbed onto the man.

“Get away from him!” She shouted, and a rush of hot air flooded the alleyway, causing the tiger to stop fighting Pigsy, though he still had him pinned and with claws at his throat.

“B-boss, you said she was too young,” The small one said.

The bigger one growled, “She’s supposed to be, but something’s… different.”

“I saidget away!” She screamed, and Pigsy couldn’t believe his eyes– she was suddenly surrounded by an aura in the shape of a very, very large Jade Dragon, who’s eyes stared menacingly down at the two tiger demons. There was something else too– sparks of that red from before, but whatever that was it was clearly restrained, despite her anger.

“C-c’mon boss, let’s get out of here,” The small tiger let go of Pigsy and scrambled away. The larger remained, staring down the beast until it opened its massive jaws as if to spit fire or water, and then he ran.

“Wow-! That was so cool Mei-!” Her best friend cheered for her while Pigsy forced himself to stand.

“Yeah, not too bad– kid-!” In the middle of Pigsy’s compliment, all of the glow faded from Mei’s eyes and she passed out, thankfully caught by the regular.

“We should get you– you two– to a hospital,” The man said, his face going pale at Pigsy’s appearance.

“What? I’m not that roughed up,” Pigsy denied, despite feeling so dizzy from blood loss he had to rest a hand against the wall of the alley.

“C’mon, I’ll call a cab,” The man rolled his eyes playfully before calling the car and then they were off.

.o0o.

Once they were at the hospital, things quickly got awkward as it became more and more apparent to the staff that they had no relation to Mei and didn’t know any of her medical information. Thankfully her situation was a lot less serious and she was awake and had perfectly fine vitals in just a few minutes, whereas Pigsy had to get stitches and a blood transfusion, and was put under observation for a while.

The observation period was boring, of course, and it had him wondering just what the hell he was doing with his life. He didn’t know these kids– he didn’t even know that customer’s name– why was he out here destroying his very livelihood and fighting for them like they’re his own kids?

“Are you doing alright there? You're almost done” The nurse, “Ming-Hoa” according to his lotus-shaped name tag, suddenly spoke up. Pigsy blinked and shook his head.

“Yeah, yeah, just… thoughts,” He shrugged.

“Getting into life threatening situations often does that to a person,” The nurse laughed a little, checking all of the monitors and writing something down on his clipboard. “What you did was very brave. That girl could very easily be dead, her family is indebted to you.”

Pigsy sighed and closed his eyes. “That’s the problem– the kid doesn’t have a family.”

The nurse nodded a little. “Well… I’m sure they’re happy wherever they are.”

“What’s– uh–” Pigsy looked down at his hands. “What’s going to happen to the kid now?”

The nurse had a small smile on his face. “Well, custody of her will be decided by her parent’s will and the boy will undergo a similar process, though if there’s no will, he’ll be placed into foster care.”

“Wait– him too?” Pigsy tried to sit up.

“Oh, you didn’t know? He was also orphaned in the fire the other night, though he was in the apartment buildings.”

“But they can’t split those two up, they’re practically siblings– joined at the hip and apparently all they have." An expression of sad realization washed over the chef's face.

"Yes, yes, but unfortunately that is how it goes unless the person taking in the girl was willing to take the boy too," Ming-Hoa explained.

"How could anyone not? I know I sure would," Pigsy huffed as the nurse checked the monitors once more and started unhooking all of the devices.

"Well that's what we like to hear," He said as he took off the heart monitor from Pigsy.

"Sure..?" Pigsy raised an eyebrow as he stretched. The nurse continued to type something into his computer as Pigsy stood and gathered his things, which was really just his torn up chef’s shirt.

“The Dragon Family Lawyer will meet you just outside to discuss a few things, Mr. Zhu,” He said. Why exactly the nurse knew about Mei’s lawyer when he wasn't even her nurse was something Pigsy didn’t have the energy to question.

“Uh… thanks,” He nodded, throwing on the torn shirt over his white tank top and bandages before heading out to the waiting area, which was strangely cleared out except for Mei, MK, his customer, and a woman wearing a white pantsuit and high heels with lotuses on them– the lawyer, most likely.

“Ah, Mr. Zhu, I’m Gatita, the lawyer for the Dragon Family Estate,” The woman stood, but before he could go to shake her hand, Mei jumped from her seat and gave Pigsy a hug.

“I’m sorry you got hurt, Mr. Piggy,” She apologized profusely.

“Hey, I’m just glad you’re okay kiddo,” Pigsy patted her back before she let go and joined MK back by the bead maze.

“I’m glad to see Miss Mei likes you already,” The woman smiled fondly before going once more to shake Pigsy’s hand, which he did before taking his seat next to the regular.

“So… what exactly do you need to talk to me about?” Pigsy asked.

The lawyer reached into her bag and pulled out a large manilla folder. “Well, there was a peculiarity in Mr. and Mrs. Dragon’s last will and testament, which says that if no one remains of her immediate family, then it would be up to The Dragon King of the East, and it appears he has chosen you,” she said, pulling out the document that stated just that.

Pigsy blinked.

“Mr. Zhu?”

“S-sorry there, i just– what???” Pigsy shook his head. “I-i’ve never met any Dragon King and I know damn– dang well that I am not better for her than any king in an actual castle would be.”

“Well, mystical beings often have their ways of looking around. Plus, Mei is merely a descendant of Ao Lie, she’s not as draconic as her great uncle and his family. It would be better for her to be raised in a more humanoid environment,” Gatita said, pointing to a specific paragraph of the paper Pigsy still couldn’t hope to read.

“You know I ain’t exactly human myself, right?” Pigsy snorted.

“I suppose you truly haven’t spent any time with dragons then,” The lawyer laughed to herself like Pigsy didn’t literally just say that.

“Well, either way, you wouldn’t be alone. You’d have my number for any emergencies, and plus your husband here will be of great help,” She smiled at the man next to Pigsy and both of their faces turned red.

“Woah– wait now– we’re– I’m not–” The man protested.

“Oh! My apologies, I just assumed because both of you were present– it doesn’t matter. Custody would primarily be given to Pigsy for both the boy and the girl–”

“Both of them? I didn’t think you were in charge of both of them,” Pigsy sat back in his seat, his head beginning to spin.

“Are you suggesting you’d want to split the two up?” The woman frowned a little, glancing back at the two seven-year-olds.

“N-no! I just–” Pigsy rubbed his forehead. “It’s… a lot. I’m not exactly rolling in money here and I just–”

“There is a sum of money set aside for Mei and the boy’s childcare, as well as Mei’s inheritance, but that won’t be available until she is eighteen for safekeeping, and as far the academy goes, her and the boys admission has been paid in full for the next eleven years already so that’s not a concern either,” She said, pulling out more documents and Pigsy was still not going to read any one of them– though it didn’t matter because it seemed like his customer was doing it for him (probably because he actually understood them because he was smart and stuff).

“I understand it’s a lot, Mr. Zhu, and if you truly feel uncomfortable, you can turn the offer down. However, if you do, they will without a doubt be separated and live very, very different lives,” The lawyer said with an earnestness the chef didn’t expect.

Pigsy glanced back at the kids, seeing how happy they were in each other's company, and then thinking back to how fiercely they protected each other and– hell, even him.

He’d have to be heartless to tear that apart.

“I… I’ll take them,” Pigsy said.

“Are you certain?” Gatita asked seriously. Pigsy nodded.

“I am.”

“That’s what we like to hear,” She smiled, taking out a pen from her bag and handing it over to the chef.

“Wait, that’s it? No evaluation, no checking bank accounts or backgrounds or anything?” Pigsy took the pen nervously.

Gatita laughed. “We did all of that beforehand; you’re all clear Mr. Zhu.”

Pigsy blinked again. He glanced at the man to his left.

“I’m no lawyer, but everything looks legit and–... and I can help a bit too, if you’d want that– like around the restaurant and stuff,” His customer said, his hands pulling on his scarf nervously.

Pigsy smiled a bit, probably like an idiot, before glancing at the lawyer and covering his mouth and mouthing “I don’t even know your name.”

His customer laughed a little before copying his motion and mouthing, “it’s Tang.”

Tang.

It was perfect for him.

“Right,” He smiled more, lowering his hand and turning back to the documents.

He had no idea what it took to raise a kid– let alone two.

Then again, he’d have to be an idiot to turn down what was probably a small fortune.

But he shouldn’t just be doing this for money.

And he wasn’t– he cared about those kids and couldn’t imagine forgiving himself for separating them.

Plus it was technically her family’s wants, and who was he to say he knew better than literal celestial dragons?

With a breath, Pigsy gripped the pen tighter and signed his name across every dashed line Gatita pointed to, and then it was official.

Pigsy just adopted two kids he barely knew, one who was a descendant of a literal dragon.

He hoped he had even a clue of what he just got himself into.

#my fics #lmk #lego monkie kid #pigsy #dadsy #freenoodles #spoiler free #mei lmk #mk lmk #mei dragon #adoption #whoops guess I'm a dad now #uhhhh #idk how to else to tag this thing #fjdakls;fjdaksl #it's cute stuff #so uh #read it #<333

54 notes · View notes

thesagebrushkid · 23 days

Text

AI Art Question Answered

People ask me about my view point on AI ART and so here it is:

1) If you use AI to create images (the proper term is IMAGES, NOT ART) Then you are lazy, a thief and essentially a murderer. You are also an advocate of Satan and all divine powers of evil.

2) If you do not list the images you are posting as rendered by AI, you are a liar.

3) If you render AI images and post them but do not have a profile filled out, you are a coward.

4) If you claim you cannot draw and that's why you use AI to create images, you are a karen and a bullshit artist of the highest degree.

5) If you ask me to forgive you because you feel you can create "art" by "uttering a few words to a computer" the answer is no. You are a pathetic karen of a life form and you deserve no forgiveness. If that's the only way you can create then becomes a writer and leave the REAL art to REAL ARTISTS. if you REALLY want some art made, PAY A REAL ARTIST. Sorry if it takes more than 15 seconds to get done. but you are not the center of the universe.

6) If you call yourself an "artist" and what you create is "art" then you are a moron and need to go back to school and learn what art is.

7) If you call yourself my friend and say you support my art and career but go behind my back and use AI, you are a two-faced bastard.

8) If you use AI to create any form of porn or sexual fetish images, you are a pervert, mentally deranged and need serious intervention. Not to mention a Boy/Girlfriend.

9) If you consider "INSPIRATION" and "THEFT" as meaning one of the same thing, in the terms of "AI ART" (or anything for that matter) then you are a totally uneducated buffoon for not even knowing the different meanings of the two words and need to go back to school.

10) If you live in the USA and render AI images, then sign them and put them up for sale, you are (as of the latest governing laws of 2024) committing a crime and officially labelled a criminal in all forms of the word.

11) If you print out AI images and host them at a convention or museum as ART, then you are not only a liar, criminal and a thief, but you are a pathetic piece of wasted air and flesh that needs to be (censored)

12) If you claim your ADHD or Dyslexia prevents you from learning to draw, you are a pathetic narcissistic sot. There have been great painters throughout history with mental and physical problems bigger than yours. So, cry me another river KAREN!

13) If you put a watermark on AI images, you are a serious piece of shit and are ignorant about the laws currently in play against "AI art."

14) If you hide your AI image and ask for a donation to see them, you are breaking the law and need to be arrested.

15) If you tell your computer to render the image a God or any other religious figure head, you are a sinner and breaking your own faith's moral codes. Remove yourself from the world of the living please.

16) If you use an AI program to render images of any Aboriginal or Native People from anywhere in the world, you are an immoral turd fest and no better than the people that treated them centuries ago.

17) If all you do is render images of underage boys and nothing more (clothed or not), you are a Pedophile and you need to have your member, and hands chopped off with a dull axe and locked away for life.

18) If you use AI to create images to spread hate, lies, fear and violence to people you are prejudice against, you are just the product of Satan's seed and a Daemonette's egg. From Hell you were born and back to Hell you WILL go.

19) If you claim that you are "expressing yourself" with AI art", you are an asswipe. You are lying to yourself and no, you are not expressing yourself. Expressing yourself comes from inside yourself and artistic talent, be it traditional art, music, or dance. It comes from inside you; your heart, mind and soul. You are not expressing yourself; you are lying to yourself.

20) If you dare utter "what is the harm?" you are inhuman and you deserved to be dragged into the street and (censored). Today 4/2/2024 NYC is starting to post AI art on subway tunnels and on billboards. That alone has taken jobs away from 52 REAL ARTISTS, not to mention food off the tables for their families, utilities unpaid, rents and mortgages unpaid. But I guess you do not care if kids go hungry. Just do not complain where you see more people living on the street because YOU PUT THEM THERE.

21) If you say you do not have the mind to learn art, then you are a born looser. If you were able to graduate HS, College, learn to drive a car, restore some old furniture, do laundry on your own and play sports, you can learn to draw. you are just a lazy looser looking for any reason to cheat your way through life.

22) If you know all this and do it anyway you are a monster.

==============================================

In short, AI art is NOT ART and never will be ART. Art can only be created by human beings. No other creature on this planet. Art is the product of imagination, study, time, practice, technique, style, control and love. Art is not JUST expressing yourself, it's the ability to step back and look at the completed work and gain a sense of accomplishment, be its good or bad. And from that completed work, we learned how to improve. Art comes from the mind, heart and the soul. AI imagers are not artists. It takes away the very things that make us human.

If you paid someone to create a picture for you, telling them what you want to see in the picture, does that make YOU an artist?? NO! And the exact same thing can be said for AI. You did not create the image. Hell, you did not even pay for the image to be created. There-fore you are NOT an artist. You are just a narrator with inhumane criminal intent.

I seriously do not care if this post causes me to lose any or all of my watchers with this post. I would rather have no watchers at all than a whole bunch of demonic AI crime lords on my board, there just for a quick steal or sexual fix.

#Ai Art #AI artists #Criminals #Immoral #Idiots

2 notes · View notes

bonefall · 2 years

Note

For the dead warrior thing, how's about the non-ThunderClan dead meddies from arc 1? Mudfur, Barkface, and Runningnose.

(And on the note of fleshing out StarClan-as-deities, I'm curious, do you think Clan cats would pray to specific cats for divine intervention or to StarClan as a whole? If the former, who would the cats get in contact with for, say, good luck in romance or help conceiving a litter?)

a) Mudfur

Mudfur joined StarClan at the worst possible time, and spent his first few years agonizing over the fact he couldn't get in touch with Mothwing. Once he could rest assured that Willowpaw could receive the visions for her, he was so done with stress and responsibility that he turned down several prestigious positions around StarClan.

He would have made excellent signs, he could have been excellent at crafting newborn spirits, and he would have been able to blow the clouds away with a mighty breath. Instead, he likes to nap in the dappled starshine, and spend time with his beloved mate and kits.

He's ready to fade now, actually, he's made his peace with his life and would like to move on; but he wants to be the last to go. Since Leopardstar is so venerated, he won't fade for a very long time.

b) Barkface

Barkface is a natural at dreamweaving. Like a spider, he can lace together memories, wishes, and desires, and gently unravel them into the minds of sleeping cats. Of course he's called on for very important prophetic dreams, but more than anything, he loves to grace the minds of elders with images of their glory days.

He lived a long life, and he's been reunited with many lost friends in StarClan. He also loves what he does, so it will be generations before Barkface decides that he'd like to pass on.

c) Runningnose

(in my rewrite, runningnose is actually a very different person and also a dark forest cat, so this one's for the canon Runningnose fans out there!)

Runningnose is still trying to find his peace. He went through a lot in life and had to make a lot of hard choices, he was even a cat who went through a trial (though it was unanimous in the end that he was worthy of StarClan). He joined StarClan as a weary spirit.

He was pretty quiet at first, not having the willpower to do very much, but with the help of his friends he's found a place in growing herbs. They don't make him sneeze anymore, and he defies a StarClan stereotype that Medicine Cats are usually bad at floramancy.

This is because he's patient and humble, he won't resort to pointlessly chasing away clouds and making perfect weather. He will gladly lay, wait, and coax the smallest stem through the thickest snowbank, as long as he knows it will help at least one clanmate through leafbare.

When Littlecloud joined him, it was like he suddenly had a burst of great energy. He's still not the vibrant soul he was in youth, but he has all the time in the world to regain his spark.

d) Do the clan cats worship individual spirits, or StarClan as a whole?

Answered below the cut

I hadn't considered it before, but, sometimes yes. Overall, StarClan is a shifting clan, full of cats who are relevant to the living. Cats fade away when they're ready to rest, so bothering a random spirit would be fruitless or perhaps even rude. Generally, if the cats are praying, it's to StarClan as a whole.

There are exceptions of course. Leopardstar will pride herself as an avatar of battle and gladly bestow favor if she's contacted. Firestar will show up if you so much as think about him too hard. But sometimes, a cat will pray to a direct ancestor, or a friend will "lend" one of theirs.

"My grandmew had NINE kittens, if you ask her she'll totally help you have a litter!"

"My grandpaw's brother died at sunningrocks, dragged down TWO RiverClan warriors with him! He'll help me claw their ears off tomorrow!"

"Remember the wisdom of Tallstar the wanderer, who visited many lands and guided his clan across them. Pray to him tonight, and he will protect you on your journey to the mountain."

#Starclan keeps its godlike aspects AU #Mudfur #Runningnose #Barkface #warrior cats #Clan Culture #Bonefall Rewrite

37 notes · View notes

ushitenevent · 1 year

Text

UshiTen Drabble, Day Four: Sunflower, Pt. III and IV (Soulmates)

Sunflower, Pt. I and II

Sunflower, Pt. III and IV (Soulmates) (G, 1000) ☼ UshiTen Exchange 2023 Creator Sign Ups: here ☼ UshiTen Exchange 2023 Beta Sign Ups: here ☼ Join us at the UshiTen Exchange Discord: here

Satori opens his own chocolaterie and Wakatoshi visits for an entire week to celebrate its grand opening. Satori is busy, but Wakatoshi is patient, and although the days are for his customers, the evenings are for him and Wakatoshi to explore Paris together. They eat expensive French dinners, drink wine on the grass of the Champs de Mars in front of the Eiffel Tower, take a night boat along the Seine, and walk along the banks of the water while sharing ice cream cones.

“All these years and you never found someone either, huh Wakatoshi?” Satori says one evening as he licks at his gelato. They sit together in the grass in the Tuileries.

“No,” Wakatoshi says. “It does not bother me.”

“Maybe you’ll be a late bloomer,” Satori says excitedly, waving his cone around. “Your mark’ll appear when you win nationals and they’re putting the gold medal around your neck. Or you’ll be a hot, retired volleyball player and someone will come up to you and say they went to every single one of your matches and then you’ll get your flower. Or you’ll—”

“Maybe,” Wakatoshi says with a shrug. “It does not matter to me, really.”

“I know,” Satori says with a sigh. “I don’t get it.”

“Why does it matter to you so much, Satori?” Wakatoshi asks. “Your soulmate does not make you who you are.”

“I know that,” Satori says. He leans against Wakatoshi’s big shoulder as he stretches his legs out in front of them. “I guess I like the idea that I belong to someone. That they belong to me too. Divine intervention, fates intertwined, all of that. It’s romantic.”

Wakatoshi hums in consideration.

“What if you do not like your soulmate?” he says. “The fates cannot know everything.”

“I think it wouldn’t matter,” Satori says. “I think the soulmate bond would make you like and love each other even if you wouldn’t normally, right?”

“Maybe,” Wakatoshi says, but he’s frowning, like something’s bothering him.

Satori doesn’t like the shift in his best friend’s demeanor, so he bumps his shoulder.

“Hey, you cut your hair short,” he says. “Are you copying me?”

Wakatoshi nibbles at his cone and nods.

“You look very handsome with your haircut.”

Satori flushes. The back of his neck heats.

“Oh, you,” he says. “You’re too good to me. You always have been.”

“I treat you the way you deserve,” Wakatoshi says and he says it seriously, like it’s offensive that Satori might consider otherwise. Knowing him, that is exactly how he feels. Ushijima Wakatoshi is the best person Tendou Satori has ever known.

Satori smiles and sighs and tilts his head onto Wakatoshi’s shoulder. “You’re great. I love you.”

Wakatoshi smiles back. “I love you too.”

That’s when Satori feels the skin above his ribcage suddenly heat.

“Ow!”

He frowns and pulls away from Wakatoshi, slapping his hand over his side.

“What the—”

Wakatoshi scratches the back of his neck at the same time.

Satori looks up just as Wakatoshi pulls his hand away.

There’s something there. At the nape of Wakatoshi’s neck, visible now that his hair is so short.

Satori doesn’t understand what it is at first. Then he leans in closer and his eyes widen.

“Satori?” Wakatoshi asks uncertainly into the shocked silence.

He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t understand. How could it be?

Satori reaches forward and brushes his fingertips against a little sunflower on Wakatoshi’s skin.

“Wakatoshi-kun,” Satori says, his voice trembling. He looks up at Wakatoshi with big, glowing eyes and a disbelieving expression on his face. “Have you ever looked at the back of your neck?”

It turns out, the universe isn’t mean; it just has an unfortunate sense of humor. Give an unlovable child, a baby monster the promise of a soulmate from birth, and then mark his soulmate somewhere almost impossible for him to see.

“When you were three months old, you had a terrible fever,” Satori’s mother tells him when he asks, later. “We took you back to the hospital.”

It was near the middle of August.

“My birthday is in the middle of August,” Wakatoshi says to him, wonderingly.

Satori wasn’t born with the little sunflower on his ribcage, his mother tells him. He was kept in the children’s ward for two days. When his fever finally got better, they brought him home. It was only then that they noticed the new little mark.

It seems impossible to him. That two babies should pass by each other in the children’s ward of the hospital and their souls should recognize each other, even if they will not know that for years. They will not grow up together, but they will meet again in high school. Their souls will be familiar, they will continue to call to each other, to be comforted by each other, but still Satori and Wakatoshi will not know.

They will not know for years and years, although that will not matter. Not in any real way. They will still love each other all the same.

“You were right,” Satori says, smiling up at Wakatoshi. His arms around Wakatoshi’s neck, the Seine quietly whispering against the bank beside them. “I don’t need a soulmate either. I have you.”

“I am your soulmate, Satori,” Wakatoshi says, amused.

“Well so you are,” Satori says. “Guess it works both ways then.”

Wakatoshi laughs and Satori reaches up to kiss him.

“You were right too,” Wakatoshi says, his voice a gentle rumble.

“Oh? I usually am, but what about this time?”

Wakatoshi rolls his eyes a little—or as close as someone like Ushijima Wakatoshi can get to such a thing—and brushes his fingertips against Satori’s cheek.

“I like the idea of belonging to you. And of you belonging to me too,” he says. Satori’s face warms, his heart pounding in his chest. His little sunflower twinges.

Wakatoshi smiles gently and leans down to kiss Satori, his best friend, the other half to his own soul. “It is romantic.”

#ushiten #ushijima x tendou #haikyuu #a drabble a day

8 notes · View notes

welcometowritersblock · 10 months

Text

Burden of Love

This is a story written about original characters - it is romantic angst. It’s actually about another iteration/life of two other characters, but this is a stand-alone in and of itself, too! I hope you enjoy.

TW: Blood, Death, Knives

“It’s okay, it’s okay, don’t cry,” she whispered, managing a small smile. If she could’ve stepped forward, if she could’ve reached out, she would’ve grabbed Arista by the cheeks to wipe away the tears. But she knew better than to move. Even just breathing, she could feel the dagger slide against her insides. All Catalina could do right now was focus on Arista as she sobbed, trying to stay strong for her princess.

“C… C-Cata… Catalina…” was all Arista could manage in response.

“See? The curse is broken. You’re yourself again.”

“Catalina…!” Arista repeated with more urgency.

“Is it wrong that I’m… kind of happy that worked?”

“Catalina….! W-why did you-“

“The curse said… it would end when you took a life of a loved one.”

“C-Catalina… that… you know the witch meant… the king or queen. One of my parents. That’s why she cursed me…!”

“I… I do know that… I also know… you didn’t want to hurt your parents.”

“That doesn’t make this a better solution, Catalina!”

“I feel like… it is. After all. The curse is broken. You’re free. The king and queen are safe. What more could you ask for?”

“Not to have a knife wedged into your chest, Catalina!”

Catalina let out something similar to a laugh, blood starting to drip from her mouth.

“Princess, protecting the royal family is my duty-“

“We could’ve figured something else out-“

“And I’m tasked with watching over you-“

“I know the court mage tried and couldn’t do anything-“

“You were suffering and your parents didn’t know what to do-“

“Surely we could’ve found someone else who knew about spells-“

“And they began discussing locking you in a tower-“

“One of the dusty old books in the library could’ve had some information-“

“And I. Couldn’t bear to imagine you locked up or injured-“

“What’s the point of the damn library and the court mage if they can’t do anything-“

“It had to be this way-“

“Why did it have to be you?!”

“Because I’m your guard and knight, princess. And your friend. I’d die a thousand times over to keep you safe.”

“I never asked you to!”

“It’s my duty.”

“I am positive that this situation was not included in the contract you signed-“

“Fine. It was my choice. I know you’re not happy with me, princess, but I chose this.“

“Idiot, idiot, idiot, Catalina, why?!”

“Well… maybe I just had to know for sure whether you saw me the same way I saw you. Stupid way to find out, though. Maybe I should’ve just asked…?”

“S-stop making jokes! Catalina…!”

Arista finally moved and grabbed her knight by the shoulders when her knees began to give out. Arista wasn’t particularly strong, but she could help Catalina stagger into a sitting position rather than simply collapse.

“This. This isn’t right. What do I do? There has to be something I can do. C-Catalina, how do I save you?”

“Dunno. But if you’re trying to find something to do, you could hold my hand.”

“No, I need to find you a healer or a cleric or-“

“…so you’re going to leave me here alone?”

Arista took a look at Catalina. She didn’t want to admit it, but she knew if she left for the the infirmary downstairs, without some kind of divine intervention, there’s no way Catalina would be alive when she returned with a healer. There was so much blood leaking from the sides of the dagger, and from her lips.

Arista silently fell to her knees besides Catalina and took her hand in her own.

“Thank you, princess.”

“S-stop that. You know I’m in love with you, now. Can’t you call me my name for once?”

“Mmhm. I think I can manage that, Arista, but your mother won’t be pleased.”

“Please… please shut up…” was all Arista could manage between sobs. When Catalina didn’t respond, she held her hand tighter.

“I take it back, please keep talking to me, say something, anything…!”

“For you? Anything.” Another joyless laugh to sit with Catalina’s faltering smile, light slowly fading from her eyes but the affection for the princess was ever-present.

“I’m sorry I made you cry. And that I’m leaving you alone.”

“If you’re sorry, don’t do it!”

“Arista. I’m sorry if this burdens you, but I need to make sure you know I love you, too, okay?”

“Why couldn’t you have told me that before?”

“Because you are the radiant princess and I am your lowly knight, destined to follow behind and protect you, never stand beside you.”

“I don’t care if you’re a knight and I’m a princess, I wanted you! I didn’t want a prince, I didn’t want the crown, I didn’t want the kingdom, I… I wanted you, Catalina!”

“I’m sorry.”

The pain she was trying to keep out of her voice couldn’t hide anymore. Keeping the knife in slowed the bleeding, but the pain persisted. Every breath made it stab slightly further into her insides. Then again, who could imagine the pain of it coming out if it was so excruciating going in?

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing! What are you apologizing for?! I’m the one who stabbed you!”

“Because you love me and I’m leaving you. I can’t save you from this. From holding my hand, from watching me die, from your own tears. I’m sorry. I wish I could’ve done better.” Catalina continued to unravel as her mind grew hazy from blood loss, her tight grip on Arista’s hand lightening with passing moments. Tears finally couldn’t be held back, and the brave face she was trying to put on for Arista dropped into a fearful look.

“I love you, Arista. I’m so sorry. I know that only makes it harder. How cruel of me. I love you. I’m sorry.”

“C-Catalina…”

She reached with her free hand, cupping her knight’s cheek. “I… I love you, too. And I. I forgive you.” A deep breath, fighting back sobs to continue to use her voice. “I love you and I forgive you.”

A barely there smile was visible on Catalina’s face for but a few seconds before there was no light left inside of her.

Time passed in silence. Arista isn’t sure how long.

“…Catalina?”

She had never stopped crying, but it returned with a vengeance. She squeezed her knight’s hand, as if to make up for the grip that Catalina had loosened.

“Catalina…”

And there she sat, watching as her knight’s body grew cold, knife still in her chest, eyes still open, whispering her name like a prayer.

No gods would answer her prayer. And neither would Catalina.

#angst #original character #original story #writers of tumblr #what the fuck do I tag this #cey writes #writeblr

2 notes · View notes

the-primordials · 2 years

Text

The Primordials Timeline:

Before The Beginning There Was Nothing. Only Everlasting Silence & The Eternal Void

⬇️

Unknown Time Frame:

The Void Primordial Is Sealed.

The Primordials Clash.

Billions Of Years Pass As The Primordials Lick their Wounds.

Christos Declares Himself King.

Primordials Offered The Choice Of Bending The Knee,

Or! Face The Same Fate As The Eternal One.

First Era Begins= F.E

⬇️

1 F.E:

Eden Is Born.

The Universe Left To Grow And Expand On Its Own.

⬇️

2 F.E:

The Primordials create their first living creations;

Primes: All 2nd Gen. Gods Creation

High-Humans: Christos's Creation

Time-Keepers: Invar's Creation

Phoenixes: Lark's Creation

Shapeshifters: Morwen's Creation

Reapers: Mrithun's & Lavada's Creation

⬇️

6 F.E:

The First Creation To Die.

The Shade Receives Its First Occupant.

⬇️

6507 F.E:

The High-Humans Begin Killing (War/Hunting) The Primes, Phoenixes, And The Shapeshifters.

⬇️

6511 F.E:

Gods Finally Ask The Primordials Permission To Be allowed To Intervene. Time-Keepers Sent To Stop The Ongoing Genocide.

⬇️

6514 F.E:

Time-Keepers All Wiped Out By The High-Humans. Christos still refusing to allow direct intervention.

⬇️

6521 F.E:

All Other Sentient Races Become Extinct, Except The High-Humans.

6522 F.E:

Zotikos Finally Having Enough, Decends Upon Eden With Many Other Gods To Punish The High-Humans For Their Transgressions.

High-Humans Kill The First God In History.

⬇️

6523 F.E:

After The First God Fell last year. High-Humans Finally begin Their War With The Gods.

⬇️

6579 F.E:

The War Finally Comes To A Clashing And Tragic End.

Many 2nd Generational Gods Had Fallen During The War. And Many Names Were Forgotten.

( THE SONG OF THE FALLEN & THE FORGOTTEN )

The End Of The 1st Era.

⬇️

After Hundreds Of Thousands Of Years A New Era Begins For Eden.

The Second Era= S.E

⬇️

1 S.E:

The Gods begin to to heal and repair Eden after Hundreds of thousands of years from their Dormancy.

⬇️

8 S.E:

Eden finally healed after years of painstaking repair.

But many cracks in reality remain.

⬇️

9 S.E:

The new younger gods begin to learn from the old on how to rule and create their own races.

⬇️

Unknown Time:

Devils and Outer-Gods begin to enter the universe.

⬇️

25 S.E:

The Fallen gods bodies finally begin to show signs of decay and begin to create a deadly miasma and strong pockets of divine power overflow.

The Gods decide to place their children, brothers, sisters and friends bodies to rest in one special grave far from the lands of Eden.

⬇️

30 S.E:

Gods begin to disappear. And later found dead. Bodies twisted and tortured, unnaturally so. Many begin to fear for their lives at the unknown entity(ies) that hunt them in the dark.

⬇️

33 S.E:

After years of hiding in their separate dimensions the gods convene once more in the "Hall Of The Gods" after much preparation.

The Grave of The Fallen has also turned into a massive mist of pure power and death. Seemingly corrupted.

⬇️

34 S.E:

From the grave of the Fallen. Many beings made of corruption, death and divine essence rise using the Fallen Gods and Goddesses bodies as their vessels. They are dubbed Darklings.

It is confirmed from their aura they are the entities that made the gods retreat to their domains out of fear for those 3 years.

And a war breaks out once more, between the gods and beings that wish for godhood.

⬇️

8 954 137 S.E:

⬇️

After nearly 9 million years of fighting the Gods triumph over the Darklings. And the Devils who had in fact been the trespassers, instigators and manipulators who had corrupted and committed such sacrilege on their dead family members bodies and graves.

8 954 138 S.E:

After everything from the past years. A new grave is erected on the edge of the Western Continent. And in remembrance of their family members Althaia and Zotikos create the seed of life, which is planted above their graves. Giving life to The World Tree.

⬇️

8 954 180 S.E:

After decades of peace, the younger gods are given free rein over Eden. As to commemorate this moment the younger gods begin to populate Eden with mortals once more.

⬇️

8 957 006 S.E:

As the millenniums past and a sense of renewal and peace had finally graced both the young mortals and gods. A new and final threat revealed itself. The Outer-Gods.

⬇️

8 957 307 S.E:

For the last 300 years, mortal and God fought side by side in a war against the False gods and their offspring(Uilebheistean Sgàile {Shadow Monsters}). After 2 months into Spring the war finally comes to a clashing end.

As the bodies of war are swept away and mourned. It is announced to the gods by Christos that the one to bring the Outer-Gods to Eden was in fact the High-Human from the first Era that ascended to godhood; Eoghan, The God Of Light & Destruction.

Due to his enormous strength being on par with even the 6 Primordials together he was allowed to rule a small part of the far western continent over a few human cities. As a call and a sign of peace.

(The War Of The Gods)

The End Of The 2nd Era.

⬇️

After a million years of minor Ages that come and go for the ever growing mortals. And as the Ages come and go. Many become forgotten to the sands of time.

Also known as The Age Of Mortals.

Invar declares the dawn of the Third Era Of Eden.

The Third Era= T.E

⬇️

1 T.E:

Mortals flourish and a new age for science and magic dawns. Many of the different mortal races have divided themselves into countries. Each with their own unique cultures & set of gods they worship.

⬇️

5 T.E:

The small Blue Sun Empire that worships the Outer-God Eoghan. Is still in the process of expanding their influence and borders on the Western Continent, through any means.

⬇️

19 T.E:

A child born between The Demon King & and a Solarium is rumoured to have been conceived 4 years ago. From this knowledge it sparks a war. The Arkin Empire & The Kingdom Of Dreams go to war with Primnore.

⬇️

34 T.E:

As the war in the East still wages on, the Blue Sun Empire finally reaches a deadlock of skirmishes on their borders with the Arashu Kingdom's Beastkin. Sparking a war of their own, The Border Wars.

Tho it does not last long, the war ends nearly as quickly as it started. 6 Months that's how long the war lasted. Ending when the guardians of the World Tree intervened, The Dragons.

⬇️

118 T.E:

The War of the East is finally put to an end when a Demi-God is killed on the fields of battle. The Gods intervened and brought the matter to a close. Leading to treaties and peace talks for all three countries.

⬇️

146 T.E:

The Blue Sun Empire has been making huge leaps and bounds in the fields of science & magic due to their Patreon in recent years. And because of this they begin to bring back the ancient technology of a bygone age, an Era where the First Humans ruled with power comparable to the gods.

⬇️

201 T.E:

After nearly 60 years of peace, The young God Algar, The God Of Oblivion & Corruption. Goes on a rampage by manipulating the Horrors born of the Vortexes. His first target being the Dream Kingdom.

The Gods wish to intervene but ever since the end of the 2nd Era Christos forbade any gods from killing or fighting each other.

⬇️

203 T.E:

After 2 years of bombardment after bombardment from the Horrors. The King of the Dream Kingdom asks their Patreon Gods for mercy. And after all the carnage the gods have had to witness they oblige the King. And in doing so the gods Summoned beings not of this world not bound by its rules, its laws. Heroes of another world.

⬇️

204 T.E:

After a year of rigorous training and many battles, the Brave Heroes finally slay The Evil God. As such they are rewarded and sent back to their home world as promised. Prompting the Heroes to be sung and praised for centuries to come in the lands of Eden.

⬇️

704 T.E:

Now.

#the primordials #lore #info 4 u #fantasy lore #Timeline #The World OF Eden

13 notes · View notes

wolint · 2 months

Text

GODLY GUIDANCE

Psalm 32:8

Godly guidance is the basis for our Christian faith. At times God appeared or spoke in a way that the Scriptures do not define for us. Nevertheless, the person receiving the guidance had no doubt it was God at work. At other times God used very specific means to give guidance to his people.

Guidance is simply that someone other than us is showing, telling, and directing us in what to do, where to go and what to say.

Many in the Old Testament received guidance from God and in the New Testament, we are instructed to ask God for guidance.

God’s word and his presence are essential to Godly guidance. While God continues to reveal Himself through Jesus and his signs and miracles, we, through Jesus’ ought to seek guidance through prayer, the word, and spending hours at a time seeking God. When Jesus returned to heaven, he promised in John 14:15-17, the coming of the Spirit of God, the Holy Spirit who would direct and guide believers. The Holy Spirit who guides us and leads us into all truth.

Throughout history since the New Covenant sealed by Jesus’ death and resurrection God has continued to offer personal guidance in a variety of ways, but His promise of guidance comes through His Word and Holy Spirit. We do not need to cast lots, blindly place a finger on a verse in the Bible or ask for a sign. God has made his will clear to us in his Word and through his Holy Spirit.

There is a normal and universal need for divine direction and Godly guidance even if people want to believe otherwise. Nobody can lead themselves without a compass: a compass in any form, human (corporation, group, family, friends, and God-God, especially). In society, the wise and educated are revered and sought after by those struggling with decisions. Unfortunately, human wisdom is often based on natural and physical experience and guidance which can lead to catastrophe, since every human being is fallible and our wisdom often questionable according to 1 Corinthians 1:20.

According to Isaiah 59:1, there is no place God cannot reach us, no place too far, too deep, and too dark that His hands cannot reach to guide us. All we need to receive His guidance is to communicate our need to Him in prayer.

Jeremiah 29:13 promises if we seek, truly seek God, we will receive answers? “You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” So, God promises that those who seek His counsel with all their hearts will find it.

As seen with Saul in 1 Chronicles 10:13, whose unfaithfulness led him to seek guidance from a medium against God’s will.

We all require guidance, and we can’t trust our judgment or understanding in dealing with life’s issues without Godly interventions and guidance as stated in Proverbs 3:5-6.

Godly guidance can also be determined for God’s path for us through other people as we see in varying scripture. Proverbs 6:20-22 says we receive guidance through the influence of parents while Proverbs 15:22 encourages us to seek the counsel of wise people for guidance.

God is still able to guide us when we ask, as we see with those He gave guidance in the scripture, and things worked for them. Such people as:

For Abraham, God appeared to him and gave him specific instructions in Genesis 17:1-8 as well as appearing in human or angelic form in Genesis 18:1-15.

Jacob received guidance through a dream in Genesis 28:10-16.

God spoke to Moses, through a burning bush in Exodus 3:2.

Gideon sought God’s guidance through a sign involving the fleece and the morning dew in Judges 6:37-40.

through Hagar in Genesis 16:7, we see that God gives guidance through angels to people including Hagar.

If we are committed to God and know His word well, then we will know God’s will in most situations. It will be clear without even asking.

PRAYER: Dear Lord, teach me to do your will, and let your Spirit lead me on level ground in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Shalom

WOMEN OF LIGHT INT. PRAYER MIN.

#spotify #devotional #christianpost #women's ministry #biblestudy #biblestudy christianpost women's ministry #biblestudy christianpost 'women's ministry #conference #family #prayer meeting

0 notes

stellar-waves · 4 months

Text

staring down the sun [15] *

⏯ chapter index

⚠ warnings: dangerous threat looming

. . .

standing here until you make me move

. . .

“Connor!” Murphy cries through the wall.

“Murph, go! Get the fuck out of here!” Connor screams, banging a flat hand against the steel. He hits the wall again, silent rage building in his core. He grits his teeth as he and Elena search the room for a way out.

The immediacy of their situation sinks in, and Connor and Elena look around with wide, desperate eyes. The timer keeps ticking, each beep telling them how much time they have left to live. Connor thinks of his brother, knowing that while Murphy can take care of himself, Connor can’t leave him all alone in this world. Their family prayer fills his mind, stuck in his throat, as his eyes dart around, looking for an answer.

“I’m so sorry, Connor,” Elena says, her voice strained with growing fear.

He blinks and looks at her, turning to face her completely. The ominous beeping accelerates, and they both jerk their heads to see the final few seconds on the timer tick away. They quickly look back at each other, eyes still wide and incredibly frightened.

Tears pool beneath Elena’s green irises, and her voice is calm.

“Sláinte mo chara.” Cheers my friend.

The moment the words leave her lips, Connor grabs her face and kisses her. He feels the shock in her skin, but she tangles her tongue around his, kissing him back. He moves his hands fast to grab her back, like he’ll never let her go again. And Elena pulls at his coat collar with a tight grip, her heart beating fast against his own. This might be the last thing they ever do, tasting each other, holding each other tightly.

But as they slow the kiss and steady their breathing, they realize that something happened. Nothing happened, actually. The beeping had stopped without them realizing it, leaving the timer frozen with only 3 seconds left. And they are still alive, eyes wide and frightened for different reasons now.

Elena slowly lowers her heels back to the floor, releasing her grip on Connor’s coat as he steps back. They stare at each other, still trying to catch their breath.

Suddenly, the mechanical sound of the wall moving snaps their attention, and Connor guides Elena to move behind him. He holds up the gun that he’s sure—he hopes—has one bullet left, aimed at the steel and whatever awaits them on the other side.

And there stands Murphy, like fucking Rambo, with his obscenely large knife in his right hand. Connor lowers his gun and pulls the slide back out of combined curiosity and anxiety. One bullet left. Fuck.

Murphy moves his eyes between Connor and Elena, raising an eyebrow as he fights a smile. “Ye two alright?”

“Aye,” Connor exhales slowly and nods, feeling Elena move from behind him. He can still taste the salt of her skin on his lips, but he blinks hard, narrowing his eyes toward his brother. “The fuck did ye do there?”

“Oh, I cut the red wire,” Murphy says with naive confidence, holding the knife up proudly. Connor rubs his hand over his face while Elena mumbles a few curse words under her breath. The twin smiles, though confused by the reactions he’s getting. “What? Just like in the movies, yeah?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Murph,” Connor scowls. “Didn’t ye think ye might be wrong?”

“Well, it fucking worked, didn’t it?” Murphy exclaims, looking incredibly annoyed.

“Divine intervention or luck of the Irish?” Elena asks, a hint of sarcasm coating her voice.

Murphy squints at her, biting back with his own snark. “You choose, lass.”

“Shut it, both of ye,” Connor interjects, careful not to raise his voice as the adrenaline seeps back in. “We need to get the fuck out of here before something else happens.”

Somehow, Elena doesn’t look too concerned. Connor feels his pulse quicken while he watches her brow furrow, a sign he now knows means she’s thinking fast about something. He gives her a moment, but his impatience (fear) crawls up his throat, forcing him to say her name. “Elena?”

She blinks, shifting her eyes between the twins. “Why would they rig explosives here?”

The question settles in Connor’s brain, and he realizes the puzzle they need to solve. “Ye think they’re hiding something here?”

Murphy catches on, too. “And they wanted to make sure no one would find it if something happened.”

Elena nods. They each look around, inspecting every corner of the office.

An emblem in the corner catches Connor’s eye. “Murph, go check Lombardo’s wrist for a watch.”

His twin gives that look like they’re talking to each other on a wavelength made only for them. Within seconds, Murphy runs back to the slain crime lord, the move coaxing Elena closer to Connor.

“What’s going on?” she asks, clearly confused.

He swallows hard and points to the geometric design etched into the wall. “I’ve seen this before.”

Elena leans in closer, studying the design with that furrowed brow. “Back in Boston?”

“Well, aye. I didn’t want to worry ye, but one of those guys in yer apartment was wearing a watch with this symbol on the back.”

He anticipates anger and frustration to pour out of her mouth, but curiosity coats her voice instead. “Do you still have it?”

“I do, back at the church.”

Murphy runs in and hands Connor a similar watch. He holds it up to the markings on the wall for comparison, and sure enough, that same design is engraved on the back of the watch.

“Holy shit,” Murphy says under his breath.

Connor gives the watch to Elena, and she promptly drops it to the floor, smashing it under her boot. His eyes widen as he looks up at her, and she shakes her head. “Can’t risk it. I’m pretty sure he used it to trigger that bomb.”

He exhales quickly and asks Murphy for the Rambo knife. As he runs his other hand across the metal, Connor feels a narrow crevice drawing a box around the emblem. Carefully sticking the tip of the knife into the crevice, he pries the facing off to reveal a hidden hard drive.

Encased in black aluminum, three blue LED lights flicker in the center as the drive hums. Elena cautiously pulls the device out, finding several thick ethernet cables and a power cord attached to the back. She looks to Connor and asks, “Think we should take this?”

Fuck, she must be rattled if she sounds that uncertain. Connor twists his lips up one side of his face, considering both the risks and the benefits of stealing that drive. Surely, the risks are nowhere near what they’ve just been through. “Aye, we should,” he confirms, nodding as Elena removes the cables. The lights on the drive fade off as she pulls the power cord, the absence of the humming sound replaced by Connor’s heartbeat echoing in his ears.

Elena takes off her jacket, wrapping it around the drive and hugging it close to her chest as Connor slides another loaded magazine into his gun. Murphy stows his knife, and the three of them make their way back through the building. Lombardo has already been positioned with his arms crossed, as Murphy took care of that when he grabbed the watch off the dead man’s wrist. Connor and Murphy then quickly yet carefully finish ritualizing all of the slain gangsters, sidestepping the pooling blood as they place the pennies over their eyes.

The trio runs back to the van, where Dolly and Duffy are sitting up front with the engine running. Just as Connor slams the door shut, Dolly shifts the vehicle into gear and drives away from the curb.

“All of the girls made it to the church,” Duffy confirms. “What took you guys so long?”

“Bit of a snag in the plan, Duff,” Murphy answers before Connor can open his mouth. “Didn’t count on disarming a fucking bomb.”

Duffy turns his face back toward them, and Connor can see Dolly’s eyebrows rise in the rearview mirror. “No shit!” they say simultaneously, sounding a lot like the twins.

As Murphy explains what happened, Connor glances over to Elena. The hard drive is still wrapped in her jacket, sitting on her lap. She noticeably shivers, though her hands hold the drive steady with each turn the van makes. Connor takes off his coat and hands it to Elena. “Here, I’ll trade ye,” he offers softly, taking the drive as she hesitantly takes his coat. She slips her arms into the sleeves, smiling modestly at Connor and mouthing, “Thank you.”

God, her mouth…it’s all he can see, all he can taste.

. . .

⏮ [14]

[16] ⏭

#boondock saints fanfic #connor macmanus x oc #the boondock saints #boondock saints #connor macmanus #murphy macmanus #fanfic #fanart #illustrated moments #staring down the sun

0 notes