#oracle of ascendance
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hamsahoney777 · 2 years ago
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Oracle of the Day: Your heart is the strongest generator of energy to ever exist. No man-made machine will ever be able to duplicate the power of loving-kindness that is inside of you.
You are being asked not to wait and to act on your dreams. No one is you & that is your power.
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cygnusoracle · 1 year ago
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Hellooo my friends! Hope you all are doing great🤍 happy to be back here yaaaayyyy
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tomasorban · 1 year ago
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Oracle cards for each Zodiac sign 29. June 2024 / project, business, work
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Aries Taurus
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Gemini Cancer
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Leo Virgo
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Libra Scorpio
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Sagittarius Capricorn
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Aquarius Pisces
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ascendedunicorn · 2 years ago
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New tarot and oracle cards on deck‼️ These 2 beauties arrived in the mail today 📬
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goldroses123 · 3 months ago
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- VENUS -
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
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orphancookie69 · 9 months ago
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Hay House: Heal Your Life+ Virtual Event!
I love free events from Hay House! I have heard from this speaker before, but this group in general doesn't have a bad apple! Highly looking forward to this event!
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Mystical Connections: A Day of Spiritual Awakening hosted by Colette Baron-Reid! Here are some tips for before the event:
"I open my heart and mind to any and all practices that will serve my highest good."
Sanctify Your Space
Be Prepared
Set Your Intentions
"I give myself full permission to jump whole-heartedly into whatever calls to me."
So I jump into the event after it was live and I started with a quiz and based on the results I am being called to learn about Energy Healing. Collete Baron-Reid is the host. There are 11 speakers to help connect to the divine! There are direct and indirect messages. If you upgraded your free experience, you can opt in and try to get a reading.
Jeralyn Glass: The power of sound healing. Crystals, Sound, Music. Intentional Vibrational Music.
Collete Baron-Reid: How to navigate the world with Oracle Cards. We are always manifesting, manifest intentionally! Pick a deck or use one digitally (see below). Ground and neutralize before doing a reading. "If my feelings were a place, what is that place...where am I?" You and the place are not one in the same, you are looking at the place. Do a 3 card spread: What do I need to know now for what I want to manifest? | What would my next right action be? | Advice. Who do you need to become to have the experience you want to have? Advise a daily practice of card pulling. Trust the plan, inspiration means of the spirit.
Free Oracle Card Reading | Colette Baron-Reid (colettebaronreid.com)
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Kyle Gray: 4 secrets to angel communication. Everyone has angels with you at all times. An angel is divine spiritual energy that is part of the whole. Having that personal experience is one of the hardest things. Most cultures have some idea of angels in them all over the world. If you feel fear, you are on the precipice of a miracle. When you go direct, it's more responsibility. But you are born to be that powerful. 4 tips: visibility (allow yourself to be seen), openness (have your own experience and be open to it), vision of holyness (seeing yourself lovingly), willingness (make a practice a habit).
Sara Landon: She channels the Ascended Council. She has done events with Mike Dooley. She teaches how to channel. Open your own channel to the divine. The voice that guides is subtle, loving, and from within. Go within. Feel love and light. "What does my soul want me to know?" "What does my guide want me to know?" Trust it. Automatic writing is a great way to channel. Accept where you are in this moment, ask yourself-what brings you joy? Messages can come when you least expect it. Trust yourself. Open your channel to the divine. We are all so connected.
Shawn Leonard: He is a psychic medium that helps connect to your spirit animal. In spirit you give to get. All my relations, everything is connected. You are always being watched over. If you feel drawn to a particular animal, talk to them in the spirit world. Talk to the animals you are drawn to.
Dougall Fraser: Aura guide and cosmic coach. psychic, author, intuitive. He sees color. You can change your aura. Most people present 1 or 2 colors. Purple=natural leader, destiny. Step into purple to change your energy. What would a leader do? Energy color is constantly changing. Radiant Green=creativity, communication. Gold=vision into reality, action.
Rebecca Campbell: She guides through a sacred ceremony. Connecting to earth, mother, and ancestors.
Radleigh Valentine: Angels. Work with 4 powerful arch angels. Your life can be what you want it to be. All challenges put you on a path towards joy. There is love behind the lesson and struggle. Don't do it alone, but you are never alone. Angels love you. Archangel Michael=protection, safety. Archangel Uriel=epiphany, transformation. Archangel Jophiel=beauty, faith. Archangel Ariel=courage, manifestation. Transformation is sometimes a solitary thing or a village thing. You are where you are supposed to be. Don't stay stuck or in fear. Don't stay stuck in a lesser version of yourself. You are meant for more. You are loved beyond your wildest dream.
John Holland: embracing your inner oracle. You are a soul that comes to body. If you have a gift, start sharing your gift. Everyone has a different spiritual awakening. Synchronicity is two things coming together with meaning. What is the why behind the want? Set an intention when you wake up. Look out for signs. Reach for your inner technology before your outer technology. Say yes to the universe. Write down the signs. Create a high vibe environment. Do not explain it away. High vibe alignment.
Abriola Abrams: Manifesting with your ancestors.
Sonia Choquette: The world is undergoing massive change. We are creating a new world.
A lot of good speakers today. I love these free events! I am looking forward to the next event, who was your favorite speaker? I loved Dougall Fraser. I am not as strong in auras.
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rascosmicwisdom · 2 years ago
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□ Tarot Readings $25
□ Weekly Horoscope $25
Message Me!!!!
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emmbny · 2 years ago
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Oracle!Reader Part 19
Masterlist - Part 1, Part 18
Warning! This chapter has child abuse, neglect, racism/classism and other sensitive topics! This is a imposter sagau so expect these things frequently. Attention! This chapter is extra long as it deals with Y/N's past and present. But I don't want to force a backstory that you guys might not want. Therefore you can read and choose what part of the backstory you want to be 'canon' for your Y/N. Whether be all, parts or none of it. It's your choice.
Your earliest memory was of a hospital. A vase of dying daisies, a child-sized bedding and a window slightly cracked to let in the night breeze were the only things you remember from that day.
A nurse gently knocked before walking in without looking up from the papers in his hands. 
"How are you feeling today Y/N? I hope you aren't suffering from nightma-Oh! You're awake!"
The brief exclamation from the startled nurse pieced you in that you weren't supposed to be awake. Or maybe, you haven't been awake for a long time?
Dry cracked lips wheeze out your small plea. "W-Water…" Coming back to himself, the nurse adhered to your request and brought the cup to your lips.
It was a cool relief to your aching throat and the first thing you asked him was.
"Who's Y/N?"
That cup of water and clinically clean blanket was the comfort you had during the next flurry of events.
That day, laying in a bed on the pediatric floor of a hospital, you learned that your parents were dead.
An accident that would have presumably traumatized you had little to no effect on your psyche. When the doctor asked you what happened you didn't have an answer.
You didn't have an answer for most of their questions either. After a series of fruitless questions the doctor and psychiatrist called in, settled on the diagnosis 'Retrograde Amnesia'.
Being stuck in a medically induced coma, you had to relearn how to walk along with other basic info. The photo of your parents, friends and house went ignored on your bedside. Why should you care about people and places you didn't remember? It's not like you were going to go back.
Most of the hospital staff gossiped in poorly concealed whispers as your nurse, Malcohm, walked with you around the floor. It was all the same thing.
"That child's poor parents, to not even be remembered by the one thing left behind."
It didn't bother you much but Malcohm always shooed them away with a scowl. He was kind to you, from helping you remember your name, to remembering what your parents' names were. 
It's not like you didn't remember that you had a name or that you had parents. But all the memories you had of them were gone. All your past experiences were gone too. 
The doctors were relieved to see that your memory loss was only applied to everything before the accident and not after it too. A date to be discharged was decided and a stoic man came to greet you. 
There was no warmth or care in his voice as he introduced himself as Mr. Castio. Not a drop of sympathy as he explained that you would be attending your parent's funeral. That your relatives would be there too, to discuss who would be willing to take you in. All you could do was stare at the newly replaced daisies and nod silently. 
If there was one thing you had relearned during your time at the hospital, it was that adults were to be obeyed. With a sad goodbye to Malcolm, you trailed behind Mr. Castio into the shiny black car.
You sat in the first row dressed in traditional and simple black clothing. Multiple people came up to you apologizing for your 'loss'. With a soft nod, you thanked them and they left satisfied. Mr. Castio had already advised you to not bother explaining the situation.
All your relatives spoke fondly of your parents until it came time to name anything they liked about your parents. The whole room went silent before little hesitant whispers floated around the room.
Seems you weren't the only one that couldn't remember.
The silence only got more unbearable once the topic of who you would be going with came up. Older adults volunteering younger family members while they vehemently denied the position. 
It was only after one uncle asked what would happen to your parents inheritance that greedy stares bombarded you. Picking at the stray fabric of the cushion, you ignored them all.
Mr. Castio clarified that the money would be untouched until you turned eighteen. Immediately, everyone looked away. No one wanted to raise a seven year old to adulthood without any immediate compensation. 
The funeral ended with your parents being incinerated. No one took the urns. It made you wonder why none of your grandparents showed up.
By the end of the day it was your aunt who agreed to foster you. Mr. Castio brought you to your parents house to collect your belongings. 
The house was clean and in order but the slight dust showed that it hasn't had a visitor in a while. Entering your room, you noticed how plain it was. Not a single toy, drawing or other personal object in sight. 
It unnerved you enough that you packed quick enough to not stay any longer. Curiosity poked at you to find out what kind of parents you had but you were more concerned on what your aunt is like.
She had a son and a husband you haven't met during the months you lived there. Her son was rude but never gave you any personal trouble. It was more common for him to throw a tantrum over one thing or another then bother you.
It wasn't an ideal life, but you weren't miserable. You ate three meals, had a bed and had supplies for school. Everything is fine, life is fine.
That thought was repeated as you sat in school with paper being thrown at the back of your head. The teacher ignored the behavior and your aunt repeatedly told you to not cause trouble. Even as you ate a different meal then your cousin and slept in the cramped closet-like room.
It was fine.
Until it wasn't.
A broken picture frame laid on the ground between you and your cousin, the ball he was playing with rolled to the opposite side of the room. When your aunt walked in, he cried and blamed you for it, saying that he told you not to play indoors.
This wasn't your fault and you said as much, but no matter what you said she just shook her head. You laid in bed with an empty stomach as your cousin’s words echoed in your ears.
"You shouldn't have tried to snitch on me."
School got worse with your cousin instigating more bullying against you. The house got tense as your cousin put all his energy into making you miserable. Day after day your aunt looked more and more stressed.
You still couldn't understand why he kept picking on you. There were no plans of revenge or fights, you relatively stayed neutral and passive. Life wasn't fine but you would have stayed like that until you overheard a conversation.
"-yeah, I'm only getting that much money for fostering Y/N. Shitty, right?"
Inelligle sounds came from the telephone in your Aunt's hand as she stored her jewelry. 
"If only my son would stop taking it. He already fights so much with Y/N and I just punish Y/N because a parent should always take their child's side. That child should have just passed away with their parents if they wanted to cause trouble."
Silently, you left back to the closet with the makeshift bed. Staring at the ceiling, you slowly accepted the reality of your situation.
Her wishing you to be dead alongside your parents wasn't the issue. What mattered was that she didn't care about the truth. She knew it was your cousin who started every problem and punished you because you weren’t her kid. 
That night, sleep didn't reach you as you spiraled into plans of vengeance. 
There was no sadness or shock on your face when you eavesdropped on her phone call with Mr. Castio. You merely noted the date that Mr. Castio would pick you up from your Aunts. You always had a feeling she would give you up, it just took longer than expected.
She and your cousin left to go celebrate whatever made-up achievement he lied about. Leaving you, an eight year old, home alone to your devices. If you ignored the list of chores you had to clean for ‘provoking your cousin into hitting you’, of course.
The house was cleaned to perfection when your aunt returned. The door creaked as she peeked in to see you dusting off the bookshelf in the guest room. She left satisfied as you set a book back on the shelf, covering a broken lock.
That night she told you to pack everything as Mr. Castio would be coming the next day. You simply nodded and left the room as your cousin laughed. You smiled too when he began asking what would happen to the money as your Aunt shushed him furiously.
Breakfast was cold as usual the next day, the mocking jeers your cousin spouted rolled off you with no reaction. Rolling his eyes at your ‘tough act’, your cousin scoffed before opening his lips to spout whatever snarky remark he had. Until the door to your Aunt’s room slammed open. She stormed in and whispered-yelled to him while pulling his ear.
You didn't have to hear to know what was said. All you heard next was-
"I didn't take the money!"
She's too mad to shush him and yells back. "Then who did?!" 
He stutters as he glances around the room. His eyes lock onto your stoic face with a frustrated expression.
"It was Y/N, they took it, they took the money!" He points at you as faux tears bubble up, his pathetic little sniffles only earn an annoyed sigh from his mother.
"What money?" You ask, tilting your head. Wide eyed, you stare at them both innocently, confusion emitting from your being all the while.
Mouth agape, your cousin looks back to his mother as she pinches the spot between her eyebrows.  "You're grounded until I get back all the money I lost, or until you return it." 
He tries to argue more but the ring of the doorbell interrupts the argument. Mr. Castio is let in and he merely motions you to follow him. Your aunt leaves the room with more wrinkles than she came in with.
With no goodbye, you grab your bag and walk to the door. Pausing you glance back at your cousin, a wide smirk is clear on your face. His eyes widen as realization sets in but there's nothing more that can be done as you close the door. 
--------------------------------
The sun breaks dawn as a quill scratches against rough paper. The ink is used in elegant strokes as Violetgrass is grounded and packaged. Yellow-slitted eyes read it over once more before folding it and writing the recipient on the exterior. 
Pearly white scales glint with the ray of the sun as the snake is woken up gently. Sleepily, she loops around and climbs the outreach hand to hang around the owner's neck.
"It's merely daybreak, who could be needing medicine so dearly?"
"A fever could kill, you know that as well as I do, Changsheng." A smooth, melodic voice comes from the snake-eyed man as he stands from his desk and walks toward the cabinets. The letter is put into one cabinet and another is opened to obtain an opened vial of medication.
"Herbalist Gui stayed the night to take care of this particular patient so I'll give them the last of the medication so he can go home."
Glasses perched and viridian hair tied up, Baizhu walks into the back room and knocks softly. A tired looking Gui startles as a child sleeps on the bed. Her father is slumped on the bed as he sleeps soundly, his eye bags comparable to Gui's from his many nights spent worrying over his daughter.
"Go home Gui and have a proper rest. This should be the last medication she needs, her fever has lasted over the past few days but she's stable."
"Thank you Dr. Baizhu, I'll get going now. Let me just grab my belongings."
Gui stands from the small stool and ambles around the room quietly to not wake the patient. Baizhu stands at the bedside and pours the medication into an infuser.
A low fire begins to burn as the medication is properly prepared. Soon enough, Gui leaves the room as Baizhu brings the cup to the girl's lips for her to drink. It goes down smoothly and Baizhu turns to retrieve any supplements to aid her when-
"Dr. Baizhu, there's an emergency!"
Gui bangs the door open with a troubled look as the girl stirs and her father wakes up with a start. Baizhu smiles at the father as he takes long strides towards Gui.
Gui wouldn't react this strongly unless there's a real emergency. Baizhu has worked with him long enough to tell when something is out of Gui's expertise or life threatening. 
"I'll need to step out for a while to deal with this. Please keep watching Yiran, I can assure you that she's past any dangerous stages Mr. Kuan."
Kuan nods his head sleepily and stays in his seat as Baizhu walks out the room. The door closes and Baizhu follows Gui as he asks "What's the situation?"
Gui speaks as fast as he can while walking toward the pharmacy entrance. "Qiqi was missing most of the night, which isn't abnormal, but she's at the front desk crying inconsolable while carrying a person on her back. They're bleeding out heavily and I saw multiple cuts, bruises and arrows in their body."
"I'm sorry to ask this from you but please prepare the treatment room. Once you do so, I can take care of them as Qiqi runs the front. If anything, I'll close the front until the patient is stable."
Gui nods before turning back as Baizhu steps into the threshold of the front. His eyes scan the room and quickly spot Qiqi and the patient she's holding.
Qiqi stands frozen in place as she grips you on her back. Tears roll down her cheeks without stopping, a stark contrast to her blank expression. Baizhu walks closer and kneels down to her level as his eyes dart over your unconscious body.
"Qiqi, I need you to follow me while carrying them. Can you do that?"
"Dr. Bai… Dr. Bai, they need herbs. Dr. Bai, Dr. Bai…"
Qiqi stares past him as if she doesn't register his words. Baizhu recognized the name 'Dr. Bai' easily as her name for him when she was still learning to remember.
Changsheng lifts her head as she hisses in a cooing way. "Qiqi, you want to save them, correct? We have the herbs but you need to bring this patient to the treatment room."
Baizhu reaches toward the zombie child and carefully wipes away her tears. “There’s no need to worry Qiqi, just do as Changsheng says. Remember I love you most.” 
Qiqi nods but she doesn’t stop crying much to Baizhu’s surprise. Deciding to leave that for another time, he slowly walks to the treatment room passing by an exhausted Gui who sends a worried glance at you. 
“Don’t worry about it Gui, injured patients aren’t the most frequent but I have plenty of experience caring for them. Just go home and rest.” With a sigh, Gui leaves as Qiqi stands next to the clean bed. 
You’re quickly transferred to the bed and positioned to lay on your side for a proper inspection. “You should stay outside. Qiqi. I’ll let you see them when I’m done.” Not looking back, Baizhu changes his gloves before gingerly touching the bloody wounds. Bits and pieces of scrap can be felt inside the injuries under his fingers making him frown.
“There’s quite a range of injuries on them. Not counting the bruising and cuts, there are some deep stab wounds.” Changsheng comments from her perch as she stares down at the zombie.
“Their calves have been pierced too, it’s cold to the touch with elemental traces. Someone used a cryo vision on them. Their back isn’t straight and their breathing is harsh, I’m suspecting some broken bones. They must be identified soon so I can heal them.”
As he pulls his hands away, a small metal arrow tip falls out onto the floor. “That one has hydro elemental energy, different then the cryo one earlier. Two assailants means double the bleeding.”
“Baizhu! That can be dealt with afterwards, look at their head!” Changsheng’s sudden hiss pulls Baizhu’s attention to the area in question. The pillow your head is laying has begun to be stained red as a puddle forms. Blood dribbles out of your cracked lips as your breathing becomes strained.
Dendro glows at the tips of Baizhu’s fingertips as he carefully trails his fingers across the wounds. “Changsheng, they don’t have much time left. Their qi is perfectly balanced so I’ll only need to transfer some lifeforce. That head injury is the most pressing injury but I’ll spare some power to temporarily block the bleeding.”
The puncture wounds shine a soft green and the blood on your loose, shoddy bandages slow down. A pained gasp breaks free from your lips at the accident brush against your cracked spine.
Baizhu and Changsheng both peer down at your head, your matted hair knotting from the blood makes him grimace. “Their skull met with great impact but it’s not fatal.”
“Not yet, at least.”
“This mask needs to be removed for proper circulation and examination. More injuries may be hiding beneath it.” Baizhu speaks absentmindedly as he changes gloves and begins to reach toward the bloody mask on your face.
Your eyes snap open, making Baizhu freeze in surprise until you push him with enough force causing him to stumble. Changsheng hisses in retaliation as Baizhu steadies himself.
You stumble off the bed with a sway as blood rolls down your forehead. With glossy eyes and cracked lips you speak slowly. "Don't… touch it…"
Baizhu and Changsheng share a worried look at each other before focusing on you. Taking a step closer, Baizhu raises his empty hands in an act to calm you.
"Now, now, I'm just trying to help you. That mask is obstructing my care and can cause a serious problem."
"I… said… NO TOUCHING!" Your arm flails to the side, knocking over objects and causing a loud crash. 
An animalistic yell rises out of your hoarse throat while your limbs swing around in agitation. Baizhu keeps a safe distance away as he watches you.
"This enraged fool will be the cause of their own death!" Changsheng yells over the sounds of vials and glasses crashing.
Baizhu doesn't respond as he stares at you, your every movement is carefully noted under watchful yellow eyes. 
Your pupils blown wide, trembling body, and strange movements weren't lining up with a simple blood loss excuse.
A small hand tugs his pant leg as your rampage slows to an end. Baizhu looks down at the red rimmed pink eyes of the zombie child.
"What is it, Qiqi? Do you have something that can help them?"
Changsheng keeps a watchful eye on your exhausted body as your endless mumbles of refusal continue. Your bag in Qiqi's hands is handed over to Baizhu without a word.
"Is this theirs?" A single nod before she steps away to stare at you with a seemingly worried frown.
Baizhu opens the bag to find it completely empty. Not a single speck of dust or dirt can be seen in it unlike your dirty, ripped clothes. But before he closes it, he spots a tag on the inside of it.
'Property of Y/N L/N'
With that new information, he sets the bag down on a farther table and looks back to you. You stand trembling next to the bed as pieces of broken objects litter the ground. With slumped shoulders and eyes threatening to roll back, your voice cracks with every mumble.
"Don't take it off. Can't take it off.. Won't let you take it off…"
"Y/N? Is that your name?"
No reaction comes from you. He tries again. "Y/N, can you hear me? Can you understand me?"
Again nothing, not a twitch, not a flinch or even a slow in your mumbles. With a tired sigh Baizhu makes up his mind.
"Changsheng we have no other choice, I'll knock them out so be prepared to share my life force with them during the struggle."
"No."
Baizhu looks down at the snake in slight surprise, Changsheng speaks in a wary voice.
"For whatever reason, Teyvat is reaching out to me in warning. Don't take off the mask, keep it on and heal what you can."
Baizhu spares one more glance before sighing. "If that's really what you believe then we will do things your way. Perhaps Y/N's body is stuck in a fear response and may actually kill me."
Baizhu carefully steps past the shards and approaches you with a gentle smile. "Qiqi clean up the mess, lest our patient injure themselves on it. As for you Y/N, you can relax. I will not take off your mask, you are safe here."
Immediately your eyes roll back and you collapse to the ground. Baizhu was swift enough to catch you before any injury but your reaction was enough to cause him grief.
"Qiqi, as soon as you are done, manage the front for me. This will take a long while."
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Change was something you grew used to during your childhood. You changed schools, caretakers, friends and homes long enough to know the process by heart.
Adapting was another thing you were good at. Shady houses with out of control classmates and unending fights meant that it was a dangerous place. That you had to stay low and be on edge constantly. Everything you owned had to fit in your locked bag or else you would find it missing the next morning.
It was a bit easier in the city where most were working class. Making friends would be too much trouble and fairly fruitless. You were content to stay invisible and deal with any problems outside of public view. Some students just didn't know how to describe you, some were too fearful of what they accidentally saw to say anything about you.
The most and least stressful was the rare times you ended up with a rich family. On one hand every student knew you as an orphan but at the same time, rich kids loved to feel like heroes. All you had to do was play the weak and kind student. Nearly every student flocked to be your guardian angel as you showered them with compliments.
You never lacked lies and stories to tell but you also never stayed in one spot for longer than a few months. Each time Mr. Castio got more and more fed up with you. From a stoic disappointment to a quiet rage filled with belittlement. 
It was at 12 years old that you got fostered by your third wealthy family. They already had children, a daughter your age and a son who was barely three. You already knew that you would be their designated babysitter.
After a month of living there, you began to truly enjoy it. There was no mistreatment, obvious favoritism, a nice allowance, and even your own room. Even though you held no love for them, you followed your foster parents requests with no trouble.
Cleaning, babysitting, organization, yard work, sewing and more spontaneous jobs. Not only did they give you a bonus for the work, they also let you buy stuff with it when you asked. 
You didn't need to be constantly catered to like their daughter, you were just happy to sleep without fear of getting robbed, an empty stomach or bruised skin.
After a while you began to realize just how much you depended on them. It worried you, you agonized endlessly about getting attached and abandoned. You worked harder at school, gave in to their request full of smiles and got along with their children swimmingly.
The longer you stayed and obeyed, the larger the possibility of them adopting you or at least fostering you till adulthood became. 
But, you really should have known better. You’ve gone through it so many times, yet it seemed you still didn’t learn your lesson on who you can trust. The only person who truly had your back was always going to be yourself.
A normal day, a nice lunch and a polite request to do the dishes, something you were happy to oblige in. The sponge absorbed the soap and water letting you wash the dishes with ease. The chore is second nature to you.
 Their daughter was out of the house, probably hanging out at a friend's house. Their son was with them in the dining room as their chatter reached your ears clearly.
“I’m so glad we got lucky to foster such a kind child.”
“As am I. They work hard, get along well with everyone, and help us around the house without complaint.”
Their praise was something you were still struggling to get used to. But it made you happy nonetheless. You couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that it was an exaggeration or a lie no matter how many times you chided yourself.
“That’s true, I never expected a kid with that upbringing could be so smart.”
“What child wouldn’t do well with us taking care of them? They struggled a bit at first but they seem to realize what a good deed we did with fostering one of their kind.”
The water running down your fingers felt colder, almost like ice was traveling through your veins. Was that really what they said? Did you hear them correctly? You held onto some semblance of hope that they weren’t speaking about you like that. But the longer you listened, the smaller your hopes shrunk as your doubts grew.
They spoke about you as if you were a pet. Due to what? Being an orphan? The class difference? Your race? Your gender? Or was it just you? All their past compliments and words that seemed innocent are thrust into a new light. One full of demeaning words hiding as kindness.
The dishes in your hands become like dynamite. Just one drop and it’ll set off a whole chain of events where you can tell them off. To scream insults and obscenities from feeling tricked. Yell at them exactly how you feel, how angry it made you to be spoken as if less than human. As if less than them. 
Instead, you set the clean dish onto the drying rack. A deep breath is taken and then two more. Impartial rationality is focused on as your wounded heart is shoved away.
You have a good home, you aren’t being abused. Taken advantage of? Yes, but you get paid for it. This isn’t a family, it’s a job. It’s the best foster family you’ve had by far. They were wealthy and if you played your cards right, you could graduate from this upper class school and get a good job. 
It’s a good deal. It’s the best deal someone like you will ever get. You should be grateful, you don’t need their affection, love or attention. You just need to survive long enough to support yourself. You shouldn’t ruin a good thing.
Those words play on repeat as the last dish is set on the drying rack. The sink is turned off before you grip the counter tightly. Water is drained down the sink as you tell yourself that you’re just angry. Your blurry vision is just from anger, you remind yourself over and over again.
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A strong stench of iron permeated the room as skilled hands continued to work on your body. Blood splatters stained Baizhu’s clothes, sweat on his temple as he carefully traced the wounds with Dendro glowing on the tips of his fingers. Life force was continuously given to you as Changsheng stabilized Baizhu’s weakening body.
With the most pressing injuries taken care of, Baizhu examined your bloodstained back. The broken and fractured bones there were the next in line to be treated. Grabbing a pair of scissors from the bedside, he raised them to the midline of your clothes.
“The blood is keeping the clothes stuck to their body. We don’t have time to pull the clothes off carefully.” The small mumbles left Baizhu as he concentrated on not accidentally nicking your skin. 
Once done, he set the scissors aside and pulled the remains of your clothes off. A clean wet cloth is gently used to clean the blood off as your skin becomes visible. Simultaneous gasps leave the contracted pair as the cloth is dropped.
“Those scars! Baizhu, this isn’t a mere coincidence anymore. This person is much too similar to The Creator. Those scars are exactly as described in the scriptures.” Changsheng’s frantic hissing doesn’t reach Baizhu as he stares sternly at the marks in question.
His lips part hesitantly as his eyes never leave your body. “We should leave it be….”
“And what reason may that be?” Baizhu reaches an ungloved hand to thumb the old and faded scars as chills run down his spine.
“While it may be true that they are suspiciously similar to the Creator, there is more to this situation. The most widespread theory on why their blood is gold is that their blood is supplied with pure elemental energy and oxygen unlike everyone else that simply wields elemental energy. Even inhuman beings don’t have elemental energy coursing through their veins.”
Baizhu focuses his attention back on your bones as Dendro is summoned by his vision again. Changsheng rests herself with a tense posture as she waits for Baizhu to continue.
“Y/N is bleeding red and naturally absorbs my Dendro seamlessly. Furthermore, the scars on them have a strange aura on them.” Changsheng gives a look to Baizhu silently conveying her theory.
He shakes his head in response and clarifies. “It’s not god remains, but it’s similar. If god remains are like a natural poison and plague on a body, then this aura is the cure. The best way to describe this is that they are god cores. I believe it’s connected to the reason their qi is perfectly balanced despite the situation.”
Changsheng settles down at Baizhu's words as she watches him continue to care for you. Your breathing hitches as your bones are healed and snapped back into place. A low wail is all that can leave your throat.
“So Y/N is something in the middle? Will you really care for them even if it means taking care of a potential imposter?”
A heavy silence follows the question as Baizhu’s natural smile softens. The medical supplies that were used during all these hours litter the room in a mess. His gold eyes stare down at your pale, trembling body. 
“Yes, I will. They are still a patient that was brought to me. If they truly are an imposter then the Millelith can deal with them after they’ve healed properly here.”
Baizhu cleans his hands and changes gloves once again as he examines the remaining wounds on your body. Smiling down at Changsheng, he speaks smoothly “Shall we begin the final stage of their treatment?” 
-----------------------
Middle school reaches its end and the summer before high school came. You had passed with a high grade from your many long nights spent awake. Long days spent babysitting their son while upkeeping the chores while their daughter played leisurely. 
You felt proud of yourself to pass with those grades while dealing with them. As the months went by, your foster parents felt less and less of the need to treat you the same as their children. At the end of the day, they still paid you so everything was fine.
Summer was reaching its end and you were creating a list of items you would need for the new school. Halfway through, a soft knock on your door broke your focus. Your foster parents stepped in and asked you to join them in the living room.
Swallowing down your nerves, you nodded and followed them. Were they planning on giving you up? So close to the new school year?
The moment you sat down, they dropped the metaphorical bomb. "We want you to stay back this year and go to high school next year instead."
That wasn't so bad right? You just need to wait another year to start high school. It's not like you could be thrown out at 18 with no high school diploma, left to fend for yourself after giving up a year of school for them.
It's safe to say that you reacted badly to the news. Every 'Why?' was given a half hearted answer that changed constantly, and when you put your foot down and said no, something about them shifted, as if a curtain had been lifted or a coin had been flipped.
The once kind and gentle gleam in their eyes dulled into something akin to annoyance. As if you were doused with cold water, the atmosphere became tense and you just knew that you messed up. You, who had been so careful to stay on good terms and always abide by their request, was looked upon with coldness. 
“A child like you should not be giving us this disrespectful attitude.”
“We’ve clothed you, fed you, provided everything in that room. And it’s now with this single request that you’re rejecting us this harshly?”
The lecture goes on and on. Told how grateful, how sorry, how happy you should be. Cruelty laced every word has their arrogant figures towered over you. There was no chance for you to speak up, the helplessness you felt only pushed you down further.
At the end you were sent to your room with the date of your ‘fostering’ decided. The suitcase you took out and began to neatly fill felt foreign. You truly believed that you would be staying here until your 18th birthday. With the room bare and your eyes puffy, you tried to sleep.
Thoughts of what you should have done came to you in waves. You should have just accepted it. Even if only as a facade and found some way to prevent them from alerting the school in time. You wouldn’t have lost anything, if only you weren’t so stupid.
Tears spring up and it’s wiped away harshly as more replace it. Bitten lips begin to bleed as you hold back any embarrassing sobs that crawl up your throat. It’s only as footsteps are heard outside your room that you freeze.
Eyes wide you listen to the conversation as the sadness turns to bitterness. The bitterness wraps around your heart and squeezes as you learn the truth behind the matter. Their precious daughter had failed her grade and they just couldn’t let their child be upstaged. 
Teeth grinding, you sit up from your bed and begin to dig through the stash of objects you’ve found throughout your time in this household. A plan forms in your mind that all depends on what opportunity is given to you.
Your ex-foster parents announced a dinner to be held at a fancy restaurant and dropped the responsibility of watching over their son on you. Their daughter cheers happily at the sound of her favorite restaurant being chosen as you go to your room. Curled up in the bed, you try to ignore the stabbing pain in your heart.
The door slowly opens as the house goes quiet, their son toddlers to your bed with wide worried eyes. Chubby fingers pat your cheek softly “Are you okay? You sad?” The broken sentences are cute as he stares at you sadly.
Sitting up, you pet his head and smile at him. Your eyes are a strange swirl of emotions as you reassure him of your well being. The next sentence is a familiar one, just with different intentions than all the times you’ve asked before.
“Do you wanna play a game of hide and seek?” The smile on his face is so bright that you almost feel bad for your actions. 
Mr. Castio picks you up the next day, your ex-foster family waves goodbye to you as you enter the car. Their son cries and begs his parents to stop you as they soothe him calmly. Their daughter is the first to leave as you close the car door.
“How could you fuck up such a good deal?” The harsh words are spoken easily now that privacy is ensured. Wrinkles are as clear as his scowl as he drives away and out of the neighborhood. 
“I got you to be fostered in a family like this, and you couldn’t just go along with what they asked? I never had much expectations for you, but did the amnesia take away your brain too? Actually, you were probably born this way.”
Curling your knees into your chest, you try to ignore his demeaning words. Round two of being treated like a worthless child began as you endured the long car ride. The more he spoke, the more you shook.
“-really. Making my life harder than it has to be. All because you couldn’t shut your damn trap. Is your useless pride worth more then-”
“Why don’t you shut the fuck up instead?!” That was all it took for the loud argument between you both to begin. You had already tried to play nice with one set of arrogant adults, why should you deal with another?
A pained smirk crawled onto your face as you cursed Mr. Castio out who didn’t hesitate to dish it back. Whether it was being nice and submissive or being rude and blunt, both had the same outcomes.
You sincerely hoped that your ex-foster family would enjoy the gifts you left for them to find. 
The drugs you had placed in the nightstand for the strict and uptight breadwinner to find. The photographs of the breadwinners affair you printed and left for the house spouse to find in the cupboard. And finally the positive pregnancy test you set in the liquor cabinet that they never failed to open at dinner time.
By all means, their ‘perfect’ family should fall apart, it was just a shame you couldn’t see the fall out yourself… It didn’t stop the unease and slight guilt you felt for their son who had truly done nothing to you. It’s not like your actions would have too much of an effect on him right? You, you weren’t wrong.
Right?
At the lack of insults, Mr. Castio stopped his verbal abuse. Deep in thought, you stared out the window as the scenery passed by. Where you would go next was not known but it was all right. You would find a way to survive, you always did. 
You had to.
-------------------------
Calloused hands smoothened the blanket on your semi-healed body as Baizhu ignored the exhaustion setting in. The sun was high in the sky as the afternoon lull began to set in. Qiqi opened the door slowly as she peeked in, her eyes trained on your bandaged form.
“Dr. Baizhu, is it done?” Her hesitant voice was answered with a smooth smile and a calm voice. “It is, but Y/N needs their rest. You’ve been tense since you brought them in at dawn, that’s not good for you. Go to the courtyard and practice your arithmetics.”
Qiqi gives a small nod before walking away. With a sigh, Baizhu cleans up the remaining mess from the long treatment. “You’re exhausted, Baizhu. Stop acting tough and get some rest.”
Changsheng’s snotty but caring tone is clear to Baizhu as he walks out of the treatment room. “I’ll instruct Qiqi to gather some more herbs once she’s done. Before I can rest, I’ll need to check up on the counter. Gui should have arrived an hour ago.”
Opening the door, Baizhu is greeted with the sight of Gui giving a farewell to the last customer. At the sight of the doctor, Gui perks up in interest. “How is that patient? Did they make it?”
“Thankfully they did, but they’ll need to stay here a few days for the more severe injuries. I believe their name is Y/N, so address them by that name until we can ask them ourselves..”
Gui nods in response as Baizhu looks through what herbs they still had to use. Different prescriptions come to mind as he filters what information he knows of Y/N. What could trigger an allergic reaction, what medicine could have been consumed beforehand? What prescription is affordable without having too many side effects?
Those thoughts consumed his mind as Qiqi returned and he mindlessly instructed her on what herbs to gather according to the prescription of his choosing. Gui leaves deeper into the pharmacy as Baizhu finishes and stores the medical file safely.
Did you have any means to pay the treatment or follow up prescriptions? Any family to contact for visiting and support? You wouldn’t be the first patient to have no one to rely on but Baizhu still couldn’t shake off the feeling of something more going on with you. 
It was quite perplexing that he, who took great care to focus on being the best physician and on his own contract, was so drawn in by you. With a tired sigh, Baizhu pushed up his glasses as Changsheng raised her head to look behind him.
A knock on the doorframe only urged him to turn around and look at the unexpected visitor. With weary and suspicious eyes Baizhu stared straight ahead, “Is there something I can help you with?”
Lips curled into an ambiguous smile and with a polished voice, the visitor replies.  “I hope so, do you happen to have a patient wearing a mask?”
This chapter was fun to write, what writer doesn't like giving a trunk ton of trauma on their protagonist? I get 18 years to configure to my liking, what did anyone expect? But as always you don't need to consider this your Y/N's backstory. In truth I won't have you think back to these memories much as you have moved on from that past. You have for a long time. This is just the 'canonical' explanation as quite a few of you seemed to like my version of Y/N. Which makes me very happy! My editor approved of this idea, and edited it quickly enough for me to pump it out. I deal with the heavy work and don't need to do the annoying work! Also feel free to ask if anything was confusing. One last thing, after I got rid of the spam/porn bots I saw that I reached 1k followers! That's pretty amazing but I'm not sure if a special should be done or not. And if so, what should I do?
Taglist: Check Masterlist for more details but everyone is welcome to join it!
@vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @liansh3ng, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @shellofthewell, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @millienolife @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0, @esthelily, @t-rex-red, @ck123, @steadybreadbluebird, @118gremlin, @stratonia, @time-shardz, @farelady-fate, @valeriele3, @francisnyx, @byakuren100, @waveto-earth, @flyingpansaurus
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harmoonix · 2 months ago
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Job indicators in the Solar Return Chart!🎐
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Little disclaimer: The Solar Return chart is like a little oracle different from your natal chart. Is like a forecast that shows things that can happen in that specific year! THIS specific post will show placements related to getting a job💚
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Look for Jupiter 💚🎐:
Jupiter is a very beneficial planet it helps with manifestation and luck! Look for:
Jupiter in the 10th house = helps with opportunities, focusing on your job/career path during that year
Jupiter in the 8th house = gaining money that year. Can be from a job or someone can pay you
Jupiter in the 6th house = preparing mentally for a job and getting better with being practical/experimental
Jupiter in the 11th house = Very influential, gaining friends who can help you with getting a job/social networks
Aspects:
- Jupiter x MC aspects = getting more attention related with your job and more good luck
- Jupiter x Saturn aspects = the job can come to you quite slow but it's definitely for the best
- Jupiter x Mars aspects = getting hired fast, can happen with the job to come fast to you (or some manifestation)
- Jupiter x Moon aspects: To keep you optimistic and to always have hope. Hope dies last
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Look for Saturn💚🎐:
Saturn in the 10th house = Lots of discipline and having hardships with getting a job, stress and anxiety being involved with your work
Saturn in the 6th house = Not having a job can impact you mentally, you can become anxious about getting a job but also practical and might practice a lot on yourself
Saturn in the 1st = Improving yourself with the time, can be good for manifesting some job involving hard work/practice
Saturn in the 9th house = Can help you discover and do a lot of research, being open to opportunities and having elder people helping you
Aspects:
- Saturn X MC aspects can involve someone elderly helping you out, someone who may be known
- Saturn X Pluto aspects = Powerful influence and can lead to others helping you to find/get a job
- Saturn X Mars aspects = Putting a lot of mental power to bring yourself up, and not be negative (related to a job being denied)
Earth RISING in your solar return!🎐💚
Although not 100% job related. Having an earth rising in your solar return is an indicator of being more practical in that specific year, you might always be busy/distracted and down to earth
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Look for Neptune!💚🎐
Neptune in the 1st and 10th house in the Solar Return can indicate getting a good amount of attention and can help you to get new social networks
Neptune in the 6th house can be stuck mentally or exhausted, not knowing what to do with your life or where to start with your career
Neptune in the 2nd house can help with money for a time, make sure to always stay out of debt though and don't let others fool you
Aspects:
- Neptune x Ascendant aspects the same thing with a getting attention mostly from people outside your circle
- Neptune x Venus aspects can help you build relationships with others, that can lead you to gaining some help
- Neptune x Saturn aspects expecting the best or worst from a situation. Somehow you're always prepared
- Neptune in a fire house can help with a faster manifestation to jobs
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Hope this gave you some insight related to some career/job placements! Stay safe 💚🎐 and wish you the best!
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astrologydray · 2 months ago
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Part of fortune in the signs
The Part of Fortune in astrology represents where you may find natural joy, prosperity, success, and alignment with your purpose. It combines the Sun, Moon, and Ascendant mathematically, so it’s very personal to your chart.
Part of Fortune in Aries ♈️:
Your joy lives in the fast lane. You’re at your best when you’re bold, leading the charge, or starting something fresh. Life rewards your bravery—so be the one who dives in first (bonus points for doing it with zero hesitation).
Part of Fortune in Taurus ♉️:
Slow down, indulge, and own your worth. Your bliss is built brick by brick, in comfy clothes, with good food, pretty things, and solid routines. You don’t chase; you attract (and it looks effortless).
Part of Fortune in Gemini ♊️:
Words are your wand. Your joy shows up when you’re curious, clever, and sharing ideas like confetti. You’re the cosmic gossip columnist, storyteller, or trivia champion who turns info into gold.
Part of Fortune in Cancer ♋️:
You win when you lead with heart. Creating comfort (for yourself or others), nurturing spaces, or honoring your roots? That’s your glow-up path. You’re the soul-soother, the kitchen witch, the emotional alchemist.
Part of Fortune in Leo ♌️:
Your happiness wants you to be seen. Think main character energy, creativity, and pure passion. When you shine unapologetically, the universe sends you standing ovations.
Part of Fortune in Virgo ♍️:
Order, excellence, and small details = your sweet spot. You thrive when you’re helping, healing, editing, or refining something into perfection. You make “getting your sh*t together” look like an art form.
Part of Fortune in Libra ♎️:
Charmed, balanced, and aesthetically blessed—that’s your lane. Joy comes through beauty, harmony, and good vibes. You’re the peacemaker, matchmaker, or artist who sees the world through rose-gold lenses.
Part of Fortune in Scorpio ♏️:
Your treasure is hidden in the depths. You’re here to transform, dig deep, and maybe stir the cauldron a bit. When you trust your power, you unlock intense joy (and possibly a mysterious windfall).
Part of Fortune in Sagittarius ♐️:
Your fortune’s tied to freedom. You’re the cosmic wanderer, always chasing meaning, adventure, or a really good story. When you’re exploring new horizons—literally or mentally—you feel most alive.
Part of Fortune in Capricorn ♑️:
Boss energy, but make it divine. You’re fulfilled by progress, legacy, and doing the damn thing right. When you commit to your mountain, success comes calling in tailored clothing and respectful silence.
Part of Fortune in Aquarius ♒️:
You’re wired for weird—and it works. Joy comes from breaking molds, thinking ahead, and connecting with your fellow aliens (aka community). You’re the oracle of innovation and future-friendly vibes.
Part of Fortune in Pisces ♓️:
You’re tuned into the cosmic playlist. Your bliss is in dreaming, creating, healing, and flowing. Logic might take the backseat, but your intuition’s got GPS. You thrive when you trust the vibes.
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cygnusoracle · 3 months ago
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Lovely weekend people! 🩵 it has been months since I last posted. Hope you all are doing good🥹 I will be doing free tarot/oracle reading. Look forward for the post. Feeling grateful 🫶🏼
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literallyjusttoa · 9 months ago
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I have fully reworked and redesigned my Apollo timeline!! These designs are meant to depict Apollo from 2591 B.C.E all the way to 392 C.E., so a good 2,983 years of life lol. A lot of things have changed from my first and second versions of this timeline (which you can see here and here if you're interested) so I'm just gonna rewrite the whole things here for y'all to read and enjoy! (Also disclaimer as always I am not a mythology expert, and I am taking some liberties with dates and time periods so sorry if anything seems off!)
Baby: 2591 B.C.E
Apollo is born. That's pretty much all that happens here.
Fighting Python/Exile: 2591-2582 B.C.E.
Right after being born, Apollo goes off to fight Python. After this, he is exiled from Olympus for nine years due to his crime of committing murder. During those nine years, he spends most of his time as either a shepherd or a traveling musician, and observes mortals and their ways of life a lot.
Pre-First Punishment: 2582-2300 B.C.E.
After his exile, Apollo is allowed to ascend to Olympus. He takes on a form that is extremely similar to the mortals he's been living amongst for the past nine years. As the youngest member of the Olympian Council, Apollo is slightly naive, but desperate to prove himself to the rest of his family. Myths that occur during this time: 1. Apollo finds and mentors Chiron 2. Artemis and Apollo successfully convince their father to release Prometheus from his punishment. 3. Periphas, a king of Attica and priest of Apollo, was so beloved by his people that they honored him above Zeus. This angered Zeus, and he sword he would strike Periphas down and burn his home to the ground. However, Apollo begged Zeus to spare Periphas' life, and Zeus acquiesced. Instead, Zeus turned Periphas into an eagle, the same eagle that now rests on the top of his sacred sceptre.
Post-First Punishment (Troy): 2300-1250 B.C.E.
Back from his time as a mortal, Apollo is now the patron god of the city of Troy. He is extremely attached to his people, and has taken on a lot of their fashions and customs. He is a bit more reserved on Olympus because of the punishment, but he is still young and sure of himself, and is often one of the most active gods on the council. Myths that occur during this time: 1. Hermes is born. 2. The music duel with Marsyas occurs, and he is flayn. 3. Lots of cities are founded on the west coast of Ionia (Modern day Türkiye), many with myths surrounding Apollo. The city of Miletus was founded and named after a son of Apollo. Klazomenai claimed Apollo as their principal god. The city of Colophon becomes the seat of the Oracle of Apollo Clarius, and one of his sons, named Mopsus, lives there. Erythraea is also connected to Apollo's oracle, as it is the birthplace of Herophile. Once you add Troy to the mix, it seems as if Apollo just did a tour of Ionia and set up a bunch of towns along the way, which I think is pretty cool. 4. The seven against Thebes make their march to restore Polynices, Oedipus' son, to the throne. One of the seven, Amphiaraus, was a seer and favored by Apollo (and sometimes his son!). Amphiaraus was fated to die in battle, but Apollo found multiple ways to stretch out his final moments. He redirected attacks so that Amphiaraus was not harmed, and when the man's charioteer was killed, Apollo took the reins himself. When Amphiaraus finally passed on, Apollo wept over his corpse and let him be consumed by the earth, creating an Oracle at that spot.
Asclepius: 1250-1210 B.C.E.
Asclepius is born and Apollo keeps the same look throughout his entire life! Apollo doesn't have much to do with it, but the Argonauts set sail during this time.
Stealing the bolt/Killing the Cyclops: 1210 B.C.E.
This design only lasts a couple of weeks. In his grief, Apollo loses himself.
Second Punishment 1210 B.C.E
Apollo is given to Admetus as a servant for several months. The punishment doesn't last long, but Apollo's time with Admetus is essential in his journey to heal from Asclepius' death.
Trojan War: 1194-1184 B.C.E.
The Trojan War breaks out less than 20 years after Asclepius' death, bringing ruins and carnage with it. Apollo fulfills his duty as the patron god of the city, and viciously protects Troy from the attacks of other Olympians.
Post-Trojan: 1184-940 B.C.E.
The war was lost, and Troy was sacked. In the time following this, Apollo distances himself from mortals, desperate to escape the pain and grief of the last 70 years. This period of his life ends with the myth of Daphne. Myths that occur during this time: 1. Dionysus is born 2. Apollo saves Hemithea and her sister Parthenos and makes them immortal. 3. Apollo's oldest known temple is built in Thebes.
Daphne and Hyacinthus 940-776 B.C.E.
After the death of Daphne, Apollo is devastated. While he had been avoiding the mortal realm before, now he became increasingly uncomfortable on Olympus. He stayed in the mortal realm often, building up his reputation and setting up his popularity in Ancient Greece proper, which was just breaking out of the Dark Ages. Near the end of this period, he loves and loses Hyacinthus. Myths that occur during this time: 1. The cult of Apollo from Crete brings his worship to Delphi officially, and his temple is built at the site. 2. Apollo's music duel with Pan occurs.
“Main” Apollo 776-500 B.C.E.
Starting with the first Olympic games, This period is defined by glory and worship. Apollo's popularity in Greece increases exponentially, and this is only added to once he takes the reins of the sun chariot. He meddles in mortal affairs often during this time, growing into the persona we see of him today. Myths that occur during this time: 1. Niobe's kids are killed 2. Apollo falls in love with Cyrene, and gives her a city. 3. Tarquin purchases the Sibylline books. Sometime before this, Apollo curses the Sibyl of Cumae. 4. The Pythagorean cult is established, a group that religiously followed the teachings of Pythagoras. Alongside this, they mainly worshiped Apollo at Delphi. They used math to break down music, and believed "the universe as a whole was composed of harmony and numbers". 5. Phorbas, who is either a savage king of Elis or a giant, preys on travelers on the pilgrimage to Delphi. To put a stop to this, Apollo challenges the man to a boxing match, and kills him during the fight. Another Phorbas, this one hailing from Rhodes, is often confounded with this one. Apollo dated the second Phorbas, so I bet this was very confusing for a lot of poor Greeks. 6. The city of Megara fought for independence from Corinth, and claimed Apollo as their patron god.
"Classical" Apollo 500-300 B.C.E.
As Ancient Greece moves into it's classical age, and the height of it's glory, Apollo's worship continues to grow. In the 400's, Pericles and the architects of the Acropolis in Athens used the money held by the Delian league (An allied group of islands in the Cyclades, lead by Delos) to create their temple to Athena, which held the Athena Parthenos. This, alongside many other ways in which Athens attempted to take control of the rest of Greece, caused tension in both the mortal world and Olympus. Apollo begins to see cracks in the foundations of Greece, but can not do much about it at the time. Myths that occur during this time: 1. The Peloponnesian war breaks out. It lasts 27 years, with Sparta claiming victory over Athens in the end. Olympus continues to degrade as Athena and Ares spar. 2. Shortly after this, the Theban War starts. Sparta had won the Peloponnesian war and taken Athens place as the head of Ancient Greece, but many city-states took issue with this. Both Corinth and Thebes waged war against Sparta, with Thebes being victorious in this struggle. Thebes was Dionysus' city, and Corinth, Poseidon's. The Olympian council continues to splinter. 3. Apollo's first temple in Rome is built. The Temple of Apollo Medicus was constructed outside of the religious boundary in Rome, as Apollo was still seen as a foreign deity at this time, and so his worship was not permitted in the city proper.
Late Greece (300-146 B.C.E)
Greece is falling apart at the seams, with civil wars breaking out all over the region. Rome is growing stronger to the west, and eventually takes over Greece completely at the end of this period. Apollo attempts to ignore the signs of failure, keeping up a relaxed, even as the war begins to devour Greece entirely. Myths that occur during this time: 1. Dionysus journeys to India 2. Trophonius and Agamethus are killed.
Fall of Greece: 146-32 B.C.E.
Olympus falls, and will not come back together for a while yet. With each deity lost and unfocused, they all have to find their own way back to their former glory. Apollo is one of the last to return to the council, spending centuries wandering the ruins of Greece, burying his people and mourning the culture that had been lost. It is not until Augustus brings his worship to Rome that Apollo returns to Mount Olympus.
Rome 32 B.C.E.- 140 C.E.
Apollo is now one of the chief gods in Rome. Even though he is at the same level of power and popularity that he had during the height of Greece, it doesn't feel the same. Apollo drifts, going through the motions with very little passion behind it. It takes some time for him to warm up to his new civilization, which leads to:
Late Rome 140 C.E.- 392 C.E.
As Rome continues to grow and prosper, Apollo begins to grow fond of it's people. He interacts with them far more, and begins to once again meddle in their affairs, especially when it comes to the various emperors that ruled the nation. This trend continues until the eventual end of pagan worship in Rome. Myths that occur during this time: 1. Apollo meets, falls in love with, and eventually kills Commodus. 2. The Bacchanalia, which was a private cult festival of the Dionysian cult of Liber that was full of drinking and mingling of all social classes, becomes popular. This festival is obviously associated with Bacchus first and foremost, but there was a common rumour amongst members of the cult that you could meet Apollo at these celebrations.
And that's the whole thing! Hope you all enjoyed, this took a lot of time and research lol.
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ascendedunicorn · 2 years ago
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Card of the Day: Surrender - I can release my need to control.
*Yes we have the Free Will to go on our destiny but trust in the Unknown more, you won't be led in the wrong direction.
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recycledraccoon · 1 year ago
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Minor thoughts on Oisin and how he seems primed to fuck over Adaine specifically. The flustered ping-pong balls that were a plan all along. The quoting her own words on the previous Elven Oracle back at her in regards to the storm.
I mean...imagine you're a skinny little dragonborn wizard, in a class with a cute elven girl. You don't talk to her, but one of your adventuring party members is pissing thinking that party is getting preferential treatment, so you KNOW about her. You watch from the corner of your eye or from a spot on the back of the class whenever she's actually there. Partway through the year she goes to jail, and when she comes back she and her adventuring party save the world from a dragon. (A dragon of whom your Grandmother had been fond. ((Also, coincidentally, the Vice Principal.))) One of them created a god.
(Your entire party is being groomed into rage by two of your teachers.)
You're in her class again. She is the Elven Oracle, already an accomplished adventurer. She and her friends are popular. She's very pretty. She does not know your name. She does not know who you are, just a skinny dragonborn a few seats back.
You go on your Sophomores Year Spring Break Adventure and don't bother to think about her party at all.
(You and your party are going to kill a god. Your teacher is going to ascend to godhood in their place and you and your party will have Made That Happen. You are angry and determined with each final blow you deal.)
You return from Spring Break angry and with a sore chest.
You find out the elven girl's party has resurrected a dead god and the live streamed the entire fight. They must think they're so much better than you and your party. You'll show them.
(Your friend refuses to change her faith. She cancels the paperwork. The rest of you kill her, confident she will make the right choice and join you again as a proper Champion for your new god. You help kill her. She does not get back up. You hide the body and none of you can say anything. You're so so angry.)
The world descended into darkness and you can do nothing. The sun finally breaks across the sky again right before Junior year. You and your party have made plans and are on the cusp of greatness. You've gained muscles to spare and ink on your scales in carefully selected runes, no longer just a skinny little dragonborn.
(You have a new cleric. He's not your friend. He's a haystack hick from that cult-church from Freshman year, and he's here because the god you're going to kill needs a Champion and he fits the bill, nothing more.)
The first day of school the plan starts to be put in motion. Immediately that party of kids is interfering, in your way. It rackles. You push on anyway, seething inside even as you act the part of being reasonable.
You go to a party at the houses of one of her friends. You've been practicing making spell runes on the inside of ping-pong balls. You're ready.
The pretty Elven girl in your class finally looks at you. She approaches you, gives you a drink, and chills it in your hand. She has to ask your name. You have shared certain wizarding classes with her since Freshman year, tho she was barely there. You have to tell her that.
You chat. She clearly gets flustered, calls you great, and flees back into the house. Your friend teases you for others to overhear. It's a convenient excuse to use your geometry and apply physics to miss every single shot and lay your trap. The drink isn't so perfectly chilled in your hand anymore.
(You talk to her. Play nice. She isn't smooth, but she smiled at you and maybe a part of you is vindictive in seeing her flustered. It's a shame she turned down the diamonds, as dragon madness would have been so poetic. You steal her summons to steal something from the house. She didn't know your name. Didn't remember you. You feel justified. Your anger burns cold like frostbite, like static in the air. You purposely don't wonder if that first miss was intentional or genuine.)
You see each other in class sometimes.
You plot and kill monsters the woods. You will win the battle. You will win the war.
Your parties have a standoff in the cafeteria. You play your part to diffuse the situation, your teacher has been harping on your friends to stop antagonizing the other party. You feel her mind touch yours gentle probing of intentions, her friends all around her as you lock eyes.
(The devil's honey your group gets from that bee girl all goes to your teacher. He is preparing himself to ascend to godhood, and he needs it for his prayers.)
She is searching for your intentions and feelings. You tell her only 'Sorry'. She believes you. You are not entirely sure why. She and her party will hopefully die during their Last Stand exam, and have no way to revive themselves in time, be trapped there until after elections.
Maybe she just wasn't perceptive enough to see the deception.
(You hate her and all her friends. You have had no devil's honey. She believes you. Briefly, you wonder if it was a lie at all.)
They catch you. They know. Your team goes to ground and waits out the remaining days 'til elections and the culmination of everything you've been working for.
It rains at the party, and you have no more masks. You are angry. She must never have been that good of an Oracle at all, and you take joy in mocking her with her own words from long ago.
She's nothing more than an elven girl in your class who was full of herself to remember your name.
(There is nothing left now to stop you from being as openly angry as you like.)
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dilf-docs · 4 months ago
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Tuyo Será, Y Tuyo Será
sub!javi peña x younger fem!reader
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summary: after an stressful day at the office, javi finds solace in your warm embrace: you, his informant, who he has yet to cross that line he always crosses, like a goddamn vice.
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, pwp, sub!javi, mommy/daddy kink (they call eachother mami and papi), oral (m. and f. receiving), hand job, face-sitting, fingering, creampie, p. in v., overestimulation, praise kink, degradation kink (u call him a slut once or twice lol), real men yearn™, bit of angst sprinkled, no sense whatsover just feels™
word count: 5,924 words
side note: i'm gonna be very honest with y'all. i listened to the theme song of narcos, tuyo (so good check it out), and got infested with a real bad crave to re-watch (but before reheating my narcos nachos i want to finish my romcom february marathon and finish the mission impossible movies). also, my tl is filled with javi gifs and my lewd thoughts abt him have gone beyond comprehension (not the bush reblog doing numbers...). see, it all started with an audio of him yelling maricón while i browsed twitter, which in case u don't know is the spanish equivalent to the f slur. sorry, it made me horny. javier's so bossy and intimidating but what if he wasn't? i'm all in for brat taming but i have a thing for sub boys lowkey. ah, i almost forgot, HAPPY VALENTINES MY LOVELY CITIZENS! (it's literally 12am) this is a gift from my single delulu romantic ass to you (and it's filthy sex? well, yes! isn't that a testament of our town's core beliefs? that's true love to me idk) (update: i became an oracle or smth bc our silly 49 year old babygirl freak admitted on the snl 50 red carpet he's into submission IJBOL)
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The air around him was tingued with women for the night, licor, suave conversation and burnt cigarettes.
The Cali cartel case had been stuck for a while. After the success of Pablo Escobar's hunt and Murphy leaving, besides his ascend, Peña felt the need for things to go fast; succesful. Besides, he had found it hard to balance the stress left behind, the one women and nicotine used to fix before.
He's nursing a glass of whiskey, despite claiming he was going to quit that too, eyes scanning the bar for you.
Sure, informants weren't his thing anymore, but he had a long history with you: you, who despite the violence and danger stayed, probably for the money, probably for him. Yes, he likes to think from time to time that your reason for choosing Colombia and denying the fake ID and passport he gave you was for this borrowed time you had with each other, filling the gaps between long nights at an office too big for a person, all to avoid the same loneliness waiting for him back at his apartment, because home meant warmth, and there was no one waiting for him back there.
So he chose to entertain you when he picked up the phone.
"Peña" he answered the call, fingers drumming against his desk and the poor hues of the lamp above scattered paperwork, some pages tinted with coffee circles caused by the base of his mug, filled over and over again.
"It's me" and he smiles at the sound of your voice, sweet, unlike the bitter taste of caffeine. "Is it a bad time to call? Are you busy?"
Filler questions, to steady your heart. The lonely office answers back mockingly on Peñas side.
"For you, I'm always available" he responds instead, cheeky. "What are you doin' up late at this hour?" he's asking, even if the question applies to himself as well. "Stayed up thinking 'bout something?"
Your tongue backfires you, speaking before you can stop yourself.
"You" there's a satisfied hum on the other line.
"So I take you call for a lead?" he leans back on his chair, arm resting behind his face. "Would be real helpful, hermosa"
"Sorry to dissapoint" how would you reveal the real reason you called? No. Never. "I just wanted to hear you"
He's standing up before he can register, pacing around the dim lit room.
"Baby..." he's already speaking up, condescending. No, not you too.
"C'mon, Peña" your heart beats dangerously, feeling it swell painfully on your throat. "It's been a long week, hasn't it?" a beat, "I'm on this bar near the office, mind if you join an old pal for a drink? I know you are alone too"
The feeling settles in, like his mind.
"Yeah?" he challenges.
"I see the office lights, all dark. 'Cept for yours"
He laughs, "You're a true detective, baby. Might have to hire you"
He's always calling you baby, because that's what you were when you started working this. Baby first, laced with intrigue and amusement at how you'd stand tall despite your age, ready to risk your life to free your home of the violence and terror drugs had brought upon. Baby now, more like a reflex, a habit Javier Peña can't break; the worst of his vices.
"Well, am I not already?" you laugh. "Come, will you? Just a drink and I'll leave you alone. You're free to drown on paperwork after that"
Worst is, Javier had already agreed the moment he picked up the saccharine tinge of your voice on the phone, impossibly addicting.
"Deal"
So now he's here. And he's finally seen you.
"You're here"
He takes a quick scan of your body, sporting a rather simple outift. Yet you seem to pull it off, hair cascading down in soft waves that ressemble the sea, very fitting in their job to compliment your tan skin.
"I am"
"You said you were here" he remarks, finishing his glass.
You take the glass from his hands, stiff from all day at the office, then raise it, mockingly alluding a toast.
"Wanted to let you relax for a bit" you add. "Thought you stopped"
"I needed it" not to admit out loud your call had made him nervous, hidden desperation and fire behind your apparent casual words. Or maybe it was his mind, far too tired and stressed to think straight.
"Good. Ready to go?"
"Where?" but he's already stand up from the stool.
"My place" and there's that same undertone he picked at first (once an agent, always an agent) now less hidden and more out in the open for him to follow or quit, much like any other of his addictions.
"For?"
"It's up to you to find out"
"Cheeky baby" he's chastising, his eyes full of something dark, and not punishing. "Are you going to murder me? Drugged my drink?" he attempts to do a terrible joke, all to calm down the fire on his soft belly and the throb of his cock. Fuck, when was the last time he had blown off some steam?
"You don't bite the hand that feeds you" you quip, but your teeth ressemble fangs. "¿Quién te crees que soy?" (who do you think I am?)
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The walk to your apartment felt longer, despite having been here on a pass before, or when sending novice agents to watch for your safety.
He's never been inside before, but now he's taking the stairs two at a time, despite being tipsy, reaching your floor while you giggle with confidence, yet there's some uncertainity when you fumble your keys due to shaky hands, probably because you've never let him inside or because of your plan for tonight.
"It's very you" he comments out loud while you mumble a soft Shoes off. He takes another quick scan, some dishes drying on the counter, a rugged carpet and a flower vase with some petals fallen over the coffee table in front of your TV. It looks like a home, lived in: unlike his, that seems a curated effort to show someone occupies it, as a hotel room rather than a place to live. It's your warmth, thought, the one that wraps him up like a blanket or a fire.
Peña's been so busy looking around that he doesn't notice you've dissapeared.
"Baby?" he searches around, "¿a dónde te fuiste?" (where did you go?)
"In here" coming from the yellow-ish light at the end of the hallway.
He walks in slow steps, the floor creaking under his weight. Javier is opening the door, and the last he expects is to see you like this: on the bed, sprawled out. Fuck, he had imagined it alright: pumping his cock to the thought of you, but never thinking he'd got the very real thing for him.
"Baby-"
But here you were, all while he drools like a pathetic hungry dog, wordless and so fucking touch starved.
"Like what you see?"
His eyes roam over every dip and curve of your body, how your skin trembles even if he hasn't touched you and the room is hot. Heat is building within him, primal instincts fighting to take you, claim you, and make you his. It's a goddamn burning feeling he knows all too well.
"Mucho" he grins wolfishly, purring "bet it tastes as good as it looks" (a lot)
You sport a victory grin. "Why don't you find out?"
Your voice is like a siren call, and he's surrendering to the years of depriving himself of you.
He slowly walks to the bed, afraid if he speds up things, he'll wake up of this dream. He begins to unbutton his shirt, revealing his honeyed skin and soft belly from stress eating and licor, a smattering of dark hair trailing down past his navel.
Peña makes a pause at the edge of the bed, where you have sat up. He delicately cups with his rough hand your soft cheek, capturing your lips in a short n' sweet kiss. Finally, tasting all of you, tongue in your mouth wet, exploring every corner to get to know you: not the brave and loudmouth but the needy and touchy side of yours in bed. It speaks about pent-up passion and a hunger that seems to be only sated by the taste of you; the water to calm his thrist.
"Need you, baby" he breathes against your swollen lips. "Want to feel your skin and heartbeat as my own"
But a smile paints your lips as you sit on the edge, and he's unsure what it means.
"Slow down, needy boy" you taut, kissing the tip of his nose. "Do you remember our call? Said you've been through some stress" Javier lets out a little whine, "haven't you?" he nods eagerly, melting under your confident touch across his bicep, tracing his stomach that protudes over his jeans and belt. "So, how about this? I had an idea"
He raises an eyebrow, trying not to get distracted by your persistent touch.
"Better make it good. My patience is wearin' thin" and you can't help but coo at his strained pants and needy demeanor, so contrasting to his broody and serious nature.
"You've had a terrible week" fingers now getting lost down his happy trail, dangerously low to his pulsating cock. "Why don't I help you? But not like you think, no" you smile. "Let me take care of you, baby. I'll do all the work, and all you have to do is follow my orders like the obedient pretty boy you are. Sounds easy, right?"
A shiver runs down his spine as his dick strains against his pants. He bites back a groan, hips twitching involuntarily as you tease him.
He gulps, thinking about it. It's a new proposition that makes his cock pulse. Truthfully, it's been a week, no, weeks filled with stress, and the idea of letting someone else take control, despite his preference on him being the one in charge, aligned with his powerful masculine husk, makes it hard to picture it. But your parted swollen lips, eyes set with that determination he loves and his aching aging body...
Al carajo con todo. Peña is in. (Fuck this shit)
"Are you sure you can handle all of this?" with a stupid grin on his face, signaling his heating body, glistening with a sheen of sweat from the make-out session from before. "I'm not used to this, but for you, baby, I might make an exception. I trust you to take good care of me, yes?"
You hum, standing up. Even if he towers over you, you feel in power.
"¿Cuál es tu plan, mami? I want to hear every filthy sinful thing you have in mind" (what's your plan?)
You stand in your tiptoes to lick his lips, then planting a wet kiss that sends a jolt of electricty straight to his aching cock. Javier's heart pounds with anticipation while your tongue roams his mouth, making out until his pupils are blown wide and hair disheveled. He must look pathetic now, but he doesn't give a flying fuck about it.
"Oh, but I don't want to spoil any surprises... it wouldn't be fun" you grin. "Are you willing to be obedient for me? So you get to see what I have planned. Now sit, on the edge of the bed, now"
Wordlessly, he sits on the edge you previously had, his feet planted firmly on the floor, his thighs spread wide in a delicious manspread Peña often did.
"I've done as you asked, baby" voice firm with a low desire. "What's your next move?"
His chest heaves with each ragged breath that drags like a cigarette.
You drop on your kness, pushing his thighs further apart, red nails (just as he liked; did them a day earlier for him) digging into his jeans as you squeeze the thick muscle. Then, you lean down and press a kiss to his bulge. A low, guttural groan tears from his throat, touch igniting sparks of pleasure that raise through his veins., hips bucking involuntarily, seeking fricction. His hands clench on his side, hold as white as your sheets, trying not to grab you and disobey the looming domineering aura you had imposed on him.
"Want to hear your pretty sounds when I treat you good, baby. All of them; don't hold back"
"Fuck, baby" he pants, voice starined with the effort of holding back. "W-want to hear your every breathy moan, every filthy curse and-"
You nuzzle your face into his bulge, cutting his words effectively, the rough fabric scratching your face over his painfully hard bulge, eyes teasing.
"Hmh, hear me? No, papi. Today is all about you, just you"
He shudders at the contrast of your soft skin over the rough denim. He gazes down, eyes as dark and intense as yours, a bead of sweat sliding down his temple from the intensity of his arousal.
"You're torturing me, baby" his voice is a low rumble on his chest. "You want me to beg, plead for your touch like a desperate man?"
Peña reaches down, calloused fingers skimming along your jawline before tilting your chin up to force your gaze to meet his own. His thumb brushed across your lower lip, the rough digit dragging across the delicate rosy skin.
"Very well. I'll play your game and be what you want me to be"
"Please, want to hear you baby: beg, plead for me. And I shall give" you squeeze his thigh, playing with his belt buckle, a soft metallic clink echoing in the charged air. "Would you want me to help you? Use your words"
"Please, y/n" he raps, your name a delicious sound on his lips. "Please, I need you. Your touch, your kiss, your everything... I'm begging you, baby, help me"
He never imagined he'd have you like this, let alone, on this scenario. Why had he restrained himself when you had always wanted this as much as he did: with the way your eyes took him in everytime he walked in the room, or the way your hand would linger on your brief meetings to share information. It was the way you held onto him, like faith.
Peña reaches down, fingers fumbling with the buckle of his belt hidden under his belly, struggling to undo the clasp. The agent curses, feeling dumb all of a sudden with his display of desperation, at how a young girl gets him so out of himself, horny stupid. May be the lack of women or just, well, you.
"Touch me, baby" he pleads, his eyes dark and intense. "Wrap your hands around my cock and stroke me- Want to feel your mouth on me, for you to take me, please-"
He leans back, chest heaving. This raw need he feels, it tugs at his heart and cock.
"Since you've been such a good boy, I'll reward you" you smile, oh so sickenly sweet, as if you weren't edging him. "Gonna shove my cock so far my throat you won't be able to think of anything else"
Javier shudders at your words, cock leaking with precum at the thought of your lips around his shaft. The room falls silent, and he swears you might just be able to hear the beat that pounds in his ears, that be the reason why you're smiling while he anticipates your touch.
You unzip his jeans with a calculated sense of purpose, the denim material parting to reveal the straining bulge of his erection.
"Such a pretty cock, Javi" the nickname makes his groan, "is this for me?"
He lifts his hips, allowing you to tug the jeans down his thick thighs, dick in display.
"Fuck, y/n" his voice echos a needy rumble. "I'm not a man who begs, cariño, but for you, I'll do"
Peña's rough fingers grab your hair, guiding your face closer. The room grows hotter, and you swear you can smell his musky aroma, impregnated with desire and arousal.
So your reward is to wrap your lips around his tip and suck harshly. Javier lets out a rough hiss at the sensation of your mouth, even if just the tip. He feels your tongue swirling around the sensitive flesh, lapping at the drops of precum that had already leaked from his tip.
"Dios" he cries, his head falling back as he archs into your touch. His hand's hold on your hair turns more rough, as he's fighting the urge to thrust deep into your warm welcoming mouth.
You pull back, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. You enjoy every second of his disheveled state, and the way your eyes darken, reveling in the power you hold over him, Peña's desire burns even more ardent.
"Please" he begs, "need to feel your throat around my cock as you swallow me down" and then he's bucking his hips slightly, not to force himself on you, but to let you set the pace. He moans at the wet sounds of your sucking, lips stretched around his girth.
Over and over, you take him, your technique getting more confident with each turn.
"You're a natural at this" he praises, voice rough with arousal. "You're gonna be the death of me"
You pull out with a Pop! making him whine.
"Don't talk, baby. I just want to hear your moans you desobedient old man" he barely registers your next move, slapping his cock. He lets out a sharp, breathless moan at the contact. "Will you behave now and let me jerk you off?"
"Sí, sí, sí" he pleads without a second thought, or embarrasment of his needy state. He feels your hand wrap around his throbbing dick, fingers barely able to encircle his thick girth. You stroke him with a teasing slowness, and his hips buck involuntary as he gasps, the pain bordering on pain at the intensity.
He then bites his lips, trying to hold back the desperate pleas that'll sink his masculinity even further, but his chest heaves with the effort, his skin sweat-slicked over his tense muscles.
"Mmm, yes..." he breathes out, the wet sounds of your palm gliding along his arousal, more than he could take. "I'm all yours, baby. Use my cock the way you want"
You smile, "that's my good boy"
He tangles his fingers in your hair once more, guiding your hand as you stroke him. Your fingers and lips brushing drive him wild, whines he can't contain coming out.
"D-don't stop" he begs, eyes fluttering as he looses himself in the haze. "P-please, keep on touching me, making me feel this good. I want to paint your skin with my seed-"
"Beg for it" your voice is low, and you slap his cock again. "Go on, wanna hear you, pretty boy"
Javier lets out a shar gasp at the sudden sting of pain mixing with the pleasure coursing through his veins. His balls tighten, the pressure a ringing sound on his ears as you continue to stroke him ruthlessly.
"Please" voice reduced to a desperate, needy whine. "Please, I need it. I need to cum so fucking badly. Te lo pido, cariño. Déjame, por favor" (i'm asking you, honey. let me, please)
He bucks his hips frantically, fucking himself with your fist at the amounted pleasure.
It's a real picture: disheveled hair that sticks to his equally sweaty skin, fluttering droopy eyes, ragged panting and desperate moans spilling from his pretty lips.
"Fuck, I can't- can't hold it back" he mumbles, eyes wild and fevered. "I'm going to cum, all over your hand. Please, let me have this. ¡Te lo ruego!" (i beg you)
He was lost in the haze of lust, body trembling with the force of his impending climax. The pressure was unbereable; he needed to find release.
"Aw. Pretty boy can't take it anymore, can he?" you coo, laughing a bit. Your nails dig on his thigh. "Do it, baby. And don't hold back: I want to hear every filthy little sound out of your lips"
Peña throws his head back at the same time a low, guttural roar of pleasure rips through his throat. His cock jerks and spams in your grip, spurting hot shots like a volcano. Javier's never felt like this before: so fucking hard, hips bucking and thrashing as he rides out the waves of his intense climax, painting your hand with his cum.
"S-so good. Se siente jodidamente bien, carajo" he moans, hips jerking erratically as the last spurts of his release dribble out onto your fingers. (shit, it feels so good, fuck)
His body slumps back against the bed, and from your knees, you get to see his chest and tummy rising up and down, struggling to catch his breath. His seed still glistens on your hand, so you do the most reasonable thing and suck it off. Javi's cock goes hard again at the sound, dying to see what it looks like, if the image is as obscene as what he can hear, but his back is killing him, so he lays still, fluttering eyes as he looks at the ceiling, a satisfied smirk at the corners of his mouth.
"That was-" he can't even speak, oh God, "I want to" he fumbles his words, "want to please you in return, baby"
But you're not done for tonight. You get up, and he gets to observe your body as you slowly undress the last remanents of your clothes (underwear), a show for him and his hooded eyes. Peña licks his lips like a starved man, but fuck, wasn't he?
Then, you push his body to stay against the mattress, sitting on his lap. He gasps sharply as you pin him down, straddling his lips with a wicked gleam in your eyes.
"Do you think you deserve to cum inside me, Javi?"
He can feel your core pressing against his sensitive cock, wet and hot, making him shiver.
You pinch is nipple, waiting for an answer. A soft cry escapes his lips, and he's arching into your touch. There's a jolt that goes straight to his dick, and he can feel himself getting overestimulated, twitching and jumping under you.
But his eyes are dark and hazy, wandering with lust your body, hands roaming wildly with teasing touches. You brush his too, no, burn it where your touch meets his soft tanned skin, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
"Mmm, I don't know if I deserve such a reward" his tone low and seductive, but there's a twinge of insecurity laced, as if he does believe he isn't worth it. "But I want it. God, I need it" you smile at his pleading. "Want to feel your tight little cunt squeezing my cock, for you to milk me for dry, to take every last drop of my cum"
He rolls his hips slightly, semi-hard cock brushing against your dripping sex.
"Tell me what I have to do to earn the privilege" he whines. "Haré lo que sea, sólo dilo" (i'll do anything, just say so)
"That's my good boy"
You grab his cock, settling it on your entrance, wet folds receiving him. You tease the tip before sliding it slowly inside, and Javier's body shivers when your slick heat taunts him, making him gasp sharply. He feels your moist coat his dick, allowing him to glide his cock along your slit with ease.
"So fucking wet, baby" he praises with a groan, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he fought the urge to surge forward, to bury himself in your welcoming heat in one hard thrust. "So ready for me"
You sink down slowly, every inch of your tight walls gripping him. It flutters and squeezes around his cock perfectly, making his eyes roll back in ecstasy.
"Feels so good, baby" he pants, hips lifting slightly to meet yours as you settle onto his lap. He can feel you enveloping him completely and its driving him mad. "Gonna make me cum before I'm even fully hard" 
He meets your gaze, drowning in your dilatated pupils, your breasts bouncing with every move and breath. Javier finds that, with such a view, it's not hard to fall into this supplicant version of himself.
You start bouncing on his cock, letting it hit all your spots. You whine, softly.
"God, Javi, feels so good-" he's babbling nonsense in spanish as he holds you by your hips. You feel your release coming.
"Shit, Javi. Mami is cumming-"
You fuck yourself faster on him, making Peña moan louder when you ride him harder, hips slamming down onto his with urgency. The wet slap of fleash against flesh fills the room, mingling with his cries and your whines.
"Do it, baby. Cum for me, want to know I made you feel good" he urges as he feels your walls flutter and squeeze around his dick, his fingers sinking into your ass' soft skin, guiding your movements.
With one final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside your cunt. You come undone around him, pussy clenching and rippling along every inch of his cok, sending him over the edge.
"Fuck, mami. I have to-"
You hold his hips down, still on your senses despite just having an orgasm.
"Wanted to cum without my permission, you needy slut? I said I want to hear you beg for it, ask me to come, and don't ever do it without me telling you to"
He can feel his cock pulsing and throbbing inside her, the urge to release his load overwhelming. But at your stern command, he forces himself to hold back, gritting his teeth as he fights for control.
"Perdóname, bebé" he pants, voice strained as he holds back. "It won't happen again without your permission" (forgive me, baby)
"Good. Have we learned, then?"
"Yes, yes!" he cries out, eyes wide and pleading. "Please, y/n. I beg you. Need to cum so badly, I- it's too much, please let me. Please, please, please!"
His fists ball tightly on his sides, knuckles turning white as his body trembles with his impending release.
"Please, let me have your permission to cum," he begs, voice a desperate, needy whine. "I'll do anything, baby. I'll be your good boy, your obedient fucktoy. Just say the word. Please, I'm begging you- let me cum for you"
You push your erection against your core, nodding in response.
"Cum for me, loudly, so I know that you're thankful for this"
With your permission granted and hips pressing down firmly against his, Javier allows himself to surrender to the overwhelming urge to cum.
Thick, hot ropes of cum erupted from his shaft, painting your velvety walls with his essence. He can feel each powerful spurt of his release, the sensation of his balls emptying inside you pushing him to even greater heights of ecstasy. The pleasure was almost too much to comprehend, the feeling of your hot, slick walls milking his cock for every last drop of his release sending him spiraling into a state of euphoria.
"Thank you, baby" he pants, struggling to catch his breath. "Thank you for letting me cum inside you"
"Is that so?" I chuckle, "want to really show me how thankful you are?"
Without telling him so, you slip out of his dick, cum still leaking from your legs, and place on top of him: on his face, even if he slightly struggles for air, keeping yourself held up on the headboard of his bed, barely putting any pressure on him.
"Then eat me, baby" you feel his hot breath against my folds, "reward me for riding your needy dick; wanna hear just how pussy starved you are"
Javier's eyes widened as you suddenly straddle his face, the scent and taste of your combined releases filling his nostrils and coating his tongue. He could feel the sticky essence, a mix of your arousal and his own cum, smearing across his cheeks as you ground your dripping core against his mouth.
Without hesitation, Peña dives in, his tongue delving between your folds to lap up the sensitive nub. He moans deeply, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and against your cunt.
"Mmm, fuck yes" he growls, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as he pulls you down harder against his face, savoring your sweet pussy that tastes like him too. "I'm starved for this pussy, baby, could eat this pretty little cunt for hours and never get enough"
Peña seals his lips around your clit, suckling the swollen bud as he fucks his tongue deeper inside. He can feel his cock twitching and hardening once more, the sensation of your dripping sex against his face and the taste of your releases on his tongue reigniting his desire.
You grind my hips up to meet his face, moaning loudly as he continues to devour your cunt. He looks up at you, mouth still glued to my pussy. His eyes are glassy and he's whimpering into your folds. The image alone makes your pussy gush.
"Sweet boy, keep going. Doing such a good job with your tongue" you moan while his hips buck into nothing in the air, "love how you eat me out"
Javier moans into your dripping pussy as you ground her hips against his face, the praise and encouragement spurring him on. Your juices flow freely, coating his chin until they drip down onto his chest.
"Love eating this perfect pussy. I fucking love the taste of you, the way you gush and quiver against my tongue. I could spend all day with my face buried between your thighs, worshipping this sweet cunt"
He could feel his own arousal growing, his cock hardening and throbbing as he lost himself in the act of pleasuring you.
Spurred on by your praising moans, he redoubled his efforts, sucking your clit hard as he plungs two fingers deep into your soaked cunt. He pumps them in and out, curling them to stroke that sensitive spot inside you.
"That's it, hermosa. Ride my face. Please, use me baby, please"
He can feel your thighs trembling on either side of his head, body tense as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. The thought of tasting your release, juices flooding his mouth, made his own arousal swell to painful proportions.
"Would you let me use your nose, papi? Wanna cum on your face, grind off of it" you say, but even if you ask for permission, you're already over it, riding it.
Javier lets out a muffled moan of approval as you begin to grind your dripping pussy more firmly against his nose, using it to stimulate your most sensitive spots. He can feel the sticky essence of your coupling smearing across his upper lip and coating his nostrils as you ride his face with increasing urgency.
"I want to feel you cumming, drenching my face with your sweet juices" he pleads. "Paint my fucking nose with your release, baby"
He could feel your thighs quaking and clenching around his ears, body tensing as you chase your rapidly approaching climax. The scent of your arousal is overwhelming, the sweet aroma filling his nostrils and clouding his mind with lust.
"That's it, baby. Fuck my nose, use it to make yourself cum," he urges. "Give it to me, y/n. Give me everything you have"
You grip the back of his head, pushing him down while grinding your wet pussy across his face. You feel yourself tightening your hold as you come against his mouth, Javier letting out a muffled cry of pure, unadulterated pleasure as he feels your fingers tangling and tugging demandingly.
"Then be a good boy and take it all"
"Yes, mami!" he gasps, the words vibrating deliciously against your soaked, sensitive flesh. "I'm your good boy. I'll take it all, every last drop"
Peña feels your pussy clench and spasm against his mouth, walls fluttering wildly as your climax crashes over you. He whines deeply, the sound drowned out by the gush of your release flooding his mouth and pouring over his chin. The taste of your arousal is as sweet as he imagined, intoxicating, exploding across his taste buds and sending a bolt of pure lust straight to his aching cock.
"You taste so fucking good, baby. So sweet and perfect" he pants, his voice hoarse. "I could drown in this pussy and die a happy man"
He feels your body shaking and trembling above him, hips still grinding weakly against his face. But you still have the strength to lace your fingers through his hair and pull his head back.
You can feel his dick barely grazing your ass, rock-hard again.
"Now swallow it, and I might help you with that" you slap his cock with your free hand. He bucks and jerks at the mix of sensations; the way you toy with him and tease him, only heightening his desperation and desire. "Be a good boy just as you've been. I want to see this throat swallowing it all"
You taut his neck and adam's apple with your nails, the pull exposing the vulnerable column of his throat. He can feel the sharp sting of the nails digging into his skin, the sensation sending a dark thrill of pain and pleasure racing down his spine.
"Yes, mami" his voice a low, submissive rasp. "I'll swallow every drop, just like a good boy"
He tilts his head back further, Adam's apple bobbing as he gulps and swallows, trying to obey. The taste of your cum coats his tongue and slides down his throat.
"Good boy" you praise, stroking and slapping his shaft, your eyes never leaving his.
"Fuck!" he cries out, his hips thrusting up to meet your hand.
He can feel his release swiftly approaching, the pressure in his balls growing to an unbearable level. The way you touch him, the taste of your release still lingering on his tongue... he's gone insane, and it's your fault the same man who took down the biggest druglord of the world is now reduced to a moaning mess.
"Please, mami" he begs, his tone desperate. "I need to cum so badly. Will you allow me?"
"Do it" you pant, "and don't hold back any cute cries coming from your lips"
With your permission granted, Javier's cock spams violently in your grip.
"Fuck, yes! I'm cumming so fucking hard, mami. Thank you, baby, thank you so much!"
Thick, hot ropes of cum explod from his cock, painting your hand and his own abdomen with his essence. His body convulses beneath you, muscles clenching and unclenching as his climax tears through him.
He gazes up at you, eyes hazy and mind fucked.
This newfound pleasure was almost too much to comprehend, a weird feeling of ecstasy he had never dreamed of. And it was you, of all people, who had made him come by rendering him to a whiny and needy submissive part of himself he didn't know.
"Thank you for letting me cum, mami" he pants, his voice a low, rough rasp. "I am forever in your debt, baby"
You giggle, laying down next to him, while pressing a soft kiss to his sweat glistening temple.
"Anytime" you reply, so sweet and simple, as if you hadn't completely ruined his life.
But well, wasn't he known for his love to get into places he shouldn't have?
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cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @joelsknees / dts: para @ann-gell u know i love u right? my mx valentine, xoxo. no autorizo que te sientas mal así que ten una cochinada ft. javier peñita, te la dedico con amors, my hot funny lovely friend ♡
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occasionalsnippets · 5 months ago
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Ngl i can imagine FD MC dumping an iced coffee on bruce while he's working on cases bc he hasn't slept for days and just going
"Your coffee, Bruce."
"...thank you."
(I love this au sm omg)
A/n: set during the early Tim Robin days
Taglist: @dragondevinity, @lonely-star2044, @sheep-from-rad, @ilxandra, @thethingwiththefeathers, @star-wars-lycanwing-bat, @sackofsadstuff, @zonked-times, @paastaboi, @venfia, @fantasy-angelo, @linaisadream, @shirp-collector-of-fixations, @roseapov, @alittletiredcry
The ever present fluttering of bats greet you as you descend into the batcave, two small bags in one hand and a hot mug in the other. Your sweater does little to protect you from the frostiness. There still aren’t any railings, you note as you head deeper in.
Mr. Wayne- Bruce Wayne- Batman- sits by the batcomputer, laser focussed on the recent case, some drug that’s been hitting Crime Alley, that has taken over him. You’ve counted the hours, the case first popped up beginning of the week and he hasn’t left the cave in three days.
You set the mug down on the table. There are two thermoses and four cups resting there already. The scent of coffee lingers. Mr. Wayne turns his head ever so slightly to look at you. Illuminated by the bright screen, his dark circles look deeper than they’ve ever been.
"Hot chocolate from Mr. Pennyworth,” you tell him.
He blinks slowly. “Not coffee?”
World’s greatest detective, everyone.
“Obviously not. You haven’t slept in three days.”
“There was a case.”
“And you, what, couldn’t leave the cave and go upstairs for three days to deal with it?” You raise an eyebrow.
“It’s urgent.”
“You’re using it as an excuse to destroy yourself.”
His jaw tightens and he turns to stare back at the data displayed on screen and begins typing. Rude but you didn’t expect this to be easy.
“Mr. Wayne. Here is what is going to happen.” Your finger curl around the handle of the mug. “Either I pour this hot chocolate directly onto the keyboard and your costume or you go wash up, I send the info to Oracle and we can both go upstairs to drink hot chocolate and sleep.”
You hope he does not make you have to do things the hard way.
“Choose.”
He does not waver beneath the weight of your heavy stare but he does stop typing. He still does not answer.
“Mr. Wayne,” you sigh and start lifting up the mug.
“15 more minutes,” he bargains.
“5.”
“10.”
“5 or I pour this over you and tell Mr. Pennyworth not to replace what you’ve wasted.”
“Fine. 5 minutes.”
“And then you’ll go wash up.”
“And then I’ll go wash up,” he agrees.
“Also, unclench your jaw,” you tap the side of his cheek and order, “unless you want to develop bruxism.”
His face shifts and settles. “… Thank you.”
“Mhm.”
The five minutes pass in silence. He does not solve the case, obviously, but an agreement is an agreement and you push him off to the showers when time is up. The bag you brought down with a change of clothes is left by the showers while you go clean up the batcomputer.
First, email to Oracle with the case information. Second, gather up the thermoses and mugs into your second bag to bring upstairs so Alfred can finally clean them. Third, wipe down the table.
By the time you are finished, Mr. Wayne has exited, fully dried off and dressed in the pyjamas you picked out instead of the batsuit. He remembered to dry his hair today. Better than two months ago when you struggled to even make sure he wouldn’t drown in a bathtub, accidentally or not.
“Hold onto the hot chocolate, we’ll warm it up again upstairs.” You motion towards the only mug left on the table. “C’mon.”
And so the two of you ascend, back to the warmth of Wayne manor where Mr. Pennyworth and Tim are resting soundly in the night. And as you lead the way, Mr. Wayne reaches forward and grasps your hand, slowly, uncertainly, like a child seeking comfort in the dark.
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