#<- ironic magic of happiness type shit

[roadkilledretard]

i have a babs seed/apple bloom work in the making and im excited for it. probably like a couple more days

[p-taryn-dactyl]

l'amour de ma vie

a/n: hi! it's been awhile since i've written for agatha but I though this was a fun idea! kind of an AU? everyone is alive and well, i've taken over. i tried to capture the same feeling of the avenger compound 2012 fanfics bc they have a special place in my heart, but also theres slight 🌶️ in this one than any of the fics i read in 2012

word count: 2.6k

warning(s): science written by someone who barely scrapped by in any type of science class - agatha being agatha - exes to lovers - discussion of a bad breakup - suggestiveness - slight jealous!agatha - top!agatha - slight 'knee thing' - mention of insecurity - slight manipulative!agatha - i love agath's hands, this isn't a warning but a confession -

pairing: agatha harkness x fem!reader, r is tony's younger sister

prompt: you thought being the sister of iron man, helping your brother not accidentally kill himself in the lab, was the hardest part of your life. turns out, it's keeping your mind objective when your ex is brought in on a mission

The lab was quiet, save the sound of Dummy bumping into tables while trying to feed you a smoothie made from bananas and motor oil, as you wandered around, your mind going over calculations and equations. Tony had mentioned wanting to create a new suit based off of the absorbent energy of the Black Panther and you, being the good sister you are, decided to try and create a prototype as a surprise. Turns out, it was a lot more complicated than you originally anticipated. While Tony was off on a well-earned vacation with Pepper, you spent your nights on the phone with Shuri as she excitedly discussed how she originally made her brother's suit. You thought it was hard to follow Tony when he went on his ramblings about new scientific breakthroughs. Now, it wasn’t as if you weren’t smart, you had a very high IQ, but sometimes it seemed as if Tony and Shuri just understood everything. As you stared at the white board against the wall, smudged questions and equations blurring together, you heard knocking against the windows of the lab. Turning, you saw Natasha and Yelena waving at you, the blonde holding a box of your favorite donuts. Sighing, you signaled JARVIS to let them in, leaning one hip against a table, arms crossed. 

“What happened?” You immediately asked, taking in the slight guilty expressions the sisters wore, super spies your ass. Natasha and Yelena shared a look before the red-head shrugged, plopping down on Tony’s swivel chair. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Yelena took a donut out of the box, sitting on the table you were leaning against, legs crossed as she handed the box out to you. Taking a donut, you raised an eyebrow, looking back and forth between your two friends. 

“Guys come on, these are bad news donuts. You only ever get these if it’s my birthday or something has happened? Did you set the laundry room on fire?” You asked Yelena pointedly, remembering the footage JARVIS had sent you two weeks earlier. She gasped, faux offense painting her face as Natasha snorted. 

“You can’t prove that was me,” yes you could, “and fine, yes, we do have news. News that Natasha is just so happy to tell you.” 

Natasha glared at her sister before she sighed, looking up at you. 

“Strange encountered something on one of his last missions, something that wasn’t sorcery but witchcraft.” 

You looked at Natasha, shrugging while slightly shaking your head.

“So? Did he call Wanda? Oh shit, is she hurt?” Worry for your friend clouded your mind before Natasha shook her head, looking away from you as she caught a donut Yelena chucked at her. 

“Wanda is powerful, yes, but she doesn’t have the knowledge required to fully take out this threat. He called in someone known for her magical expertise, after all she’s been around a while.” 

Your heart dropped to your stomach once you realized who Natasha was talking about. 

“No…” You whispered, now fully sitting on the table, eyes glued to the floor as Yelena continued where Natasha left off.

“Apparently, this threat is going to take awhile to understand and Strange has offered her a place at the compound until everything is over. He needs you or Tony to sign off on that and Tony is in Ibiza right now.” 

You just nodded wordlessly, not fully understanding what Yelena was saying. The blonde noticed this, placing a hand over yours. 

“She’s upstairs with him now.”

Your vision tunneled slightly, panic clawing at your throat. Taking a deep breath, you remembered what your job was. 

Protect the people. 

Even if that meant dealing with your ex-fiance, Agatha Harkness.

Your relationship with the infamous witch started out like every Hallmark movie Tony forces you to watch. It was a rainy morning when you ran inside a small cafe near the Avengers Tower, ran straight into Agatha herself. From there, everything was a blur. Now, you’ve pushed the memories away into a box in your mind, forbidden to open. But sometimes you find yourself thinking about the happiness that bloomed in your chest every time you were near Agatha, how your heart almost exploded when she proposed, how happy you were to finally use the wedding book you had made and continued to add to since you were six. Then you remember how Agatha, mere weeks after proposing, started growing distant. Any question about her wedding preferences were waved away with a perfectly manicured hand, claiming that she would be fine with whatever. Her response seemed romantic to you at first, thinking she would just be happy to marry you, no matter the color scheme or the flower arrangements. But then it quickly shifted to her not caring at all. Date nights got canceled, cake tasting was done solo, and you shrunk deeper and deeper into your insecurities. She was obsessed with her own power, constantly chasing leads of witches and wizards who could be easy targets. It all came to a head one night, silently. You remember sitting in the dim lighting of your shared apartment, an anniversary gift from Tony, fiddling with your ring. A glass of wine sat on the counter, untouched but tempting. Agatha had promised to come home at three in the afternoon so the two of you could design the wedding invitations, something you thought could bring her back to you. 

But she didn’t show. 

It was half past nine when you broke, tears pooling in your eyes, blurring your vision as they fell to the floor. You cried silently to yourself as you gathered up the markers and papers you had set out, ripping the designs you had happily scribbled down at sixteen. You left the pieces in the trash, glaring at them for a few moments before you wiped your eyes and took a deep breath. Then promptly burst into tears once more. You wish you had handled the situation with the grace and dignity of a Stark but no. You put all the wedding stuff in a bin, stuffing in it a closet, then you left your ring on the counter. You didn’t know when Agatha would be back, sometimes she was gone for days, but that gave you some sense of peace. If she showed up as you had finally decided to leave, you probably would have fallen for her spell once again. All your things in the apartment you just left, knowing that you hadn’t fully moved in and, not to sound too incredibly privileged, you could just replace everything you left behind. You still had that key to the apartment, probably rusting away in a drawer somewhere. Leaving should have felt like a weight being lifted but all you felt was pain. The week after you left was filled with silence, you spent it curled up in your room at the compound, being forced to watch movies sandwiched between Natasha and Yelena, Tony joining occasionally. Your brother showered you with gifts of candy and books, doing everything in his power to bring a smile back to your face. Eventually, it worked and now, a year later, you thought you had healed. 

You were wrong.

The elevator ride up to where Strange and Agatha waited felt like time was being stretched around you. Yelena stood protectively at your side, arms crossed as she glared at the elevator doors, Natasha had wrapped an arm around your waist as you had slightly stumbled from the shock. You felt both protected and exposed as the doors opened, Stephen smiling as he realized it was you, his expression growing concerned as he took in the positions of the two assassins flanking your sides. You didn’t blame him, he didn’t know, but some part of you was angry at the innocent gratefulness that was apparent in his eyes. You felt her eyes before you saw her, they pierced into you before moving down to where Natasha’s arm wrapped around your waist. Swallowing, you nodded at Nat, silently letting her know you were okay. The two sisters moved to sit on the couch across from where Agatha now stood, her eyes never leaving you despite the looks she was receiving. Clapping your hands together, you refused to look at her, instead smiling at Strange as you painted on the familiar Stark charm. 

“I heard you needed my signature?” It was more of a statement than a question as you held out your hand for the tablet Strange held. He nodded, relief painting his face as you signed the permission form, allowing JARVIS to assign your ex a room. 

“Normally we would stay in Kamar Taj but whatever it is we’re facing seems to target places of high magical energy.” 

Yelena scoffed, her eyes still boring into Agatha.

“That sounds familiar.” 

Agatha finally looked away from you, her expression almost confused until her face went blank as she raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes. Stephen rocked back and forth on his heels for a second once you had finished signing all the forms, obviously thrown off by the awkward atmosphere. He suddenly snapped his fingers as if he had remembered something, giving you an apologetic glance before explaining he had a meeting with Wong starting in a few minutes. Your eyes widened as he turned to Agatha, formally introducing you and explaining you would show her to her new room. At this, Natasha and Yelena shot up, both offering to instead be the guide. Strange looked both confused and scared, opting to just nod as he walked backwards into the portal he had summoned, quickly disappearing. 

“Guys, it’s fine. I’ll show Ms. Harkness to her room.” 

Your friends looked apprehensive, like they would rather swallow a wasps nest than let you be alone with the witch but thankfully they stood down. You closed your eyes as you turned around, heading back towards the elevator, beckoning for Agatha to follow you. 

Time to face the music.

Once the doors to the elevators shut, you focused all your attention onto the screen in your hands, hoping to ignore the way Agatha was staring at you. You heard her sigh before the elevator stopped suddenly. Thinking you were at the right floor, you took a step forward only to be face to face with very closed doors. Confused, you turned to finally face Agatha, finding her eyes slightly glowing purple, same as the emergency stop button. You opened your mouth to ask what was going on when suddenly you were pushed up against the wall, purple magic pinning you down as Agatha stood inches away from you, arms trapping you and one leg in between yours. Her eyes flickered down to your lips for a moment before they snapped up to yours, 

“Is this where you’ve been?” You heard a slight tremor in her voice, breaking her illusion of strength. You didn’t respond, your words stuck in your throat as your body reacted to being close to Agatha once more. She didn’t seem to care about your silence, continuing to speak. 

“You look very comfortable here, especially with that assassin.” She spoke with a sneer, her hands moving to now cradle your waist, her grip tight as her thumbs slipped under your shirt. You blinked, absorbing her words before you unwillingly let out a small laugh. She tightened her grip, her hips now practically flush with yours. 

“Natasha is just a friend, I’m not-” You cleared your throat, stopping yourself from justifying your personal life with the person who had torn apart your heart. Agatha leaned in close, her nose brushing against your jaw as she kissed your neck softly, causing you to gasp. 

“Not what?” She prodded, her breath hot against your skin as her tongue traced up your neck before she lightly bit your ear. 

“Agatha…” you sighed, your hands now resting on her shoulders, as if you were debating whether or not to push her away or pull her closer. Her teeth bit hard into your neck before she kissed over the spot, her knee now pressing up against your core. 

“Answer me, Y/N.” 

This was exactly why you didn’t wait for her to come back to the apartment that night, you crumbled too quickly under her hands. 

“I’m not with anyone, especially not Natasha, she’s like a sister to me.” 

Agatha nodded slightly before she leaned her forehead against yours, one of her hands fiddling with the elastic of your sweatpants. 

“Have you been with anyone since you left me?”

Her words were accusing yet tinged with slight fear, worried about your answer. You hesitated before you shook your head, embarrassed at how pathetic you had been after you ended the relationship. Sure, people offered and you tried a few times but always chickened out before anything could ever happen. 

No one was like Agatha. 

Your ex smiled, lightly bumping her nose against yours. You felt your own lips quirk slightly before you realized the position you were in. She was here for a mission, not to fuck you against the walls of an elevator. 

“Agatha-”

Before you could finish speaking, Agatha's lips crashed against yours, immediately establishing her dominance. The kiss was deep, her tongue battling yours before she pulled away, her teeth pulling at your bottom lip. Her hands left your waits, instead now cradling your face. She smirked at your expression, your eyes glassy and your mouth hanging slightly open. Her thumb rubbed your cheek as her other hand brushed a hair out of your eyes. You allowed yourself to bask in the peace of the moment, reminiscing about the time when Agatha sent butterflies ablaze in your stomach. It was quickly ruined, however, by Agatha’s next question which hit you like a bucket of ice water. 

“Why’d you leave me? No note, no explanations, just your ring on the counter and cancellations of our wedding vendors. I thought you loved me, Y/N.” Her last words were almost a whisper, like she hadn’t fully meant to say them outloud. You felt the sharp pin pricks of tears, hurriedly blinking them away, averting your eyes from Agatha. You shook your head, a dry, humorless laugh escaping from your lips. 

“Agatha, what’s done is done, we don’t need to-”

Her hand grasped your chin, forcing you to look at her, to take in the icy fury that was ablaze in her eyes. 

“No.” Her voice was firm, commanding, as you both examined each other’s expressions. “No, I need to know what I did.” 

You didn’t know why, but those words opened the floodgates, both of your tears and your words.  

“It’s what you didn’t do Agatha! You were never there, you didn’t give one shit about our wedding, about planning our life together. Power is your true love, Agatha, and I’ll be damned if I’m just a rebound,” You took a shaky breath, blinking away the tears that were blurring your vision and falling down your face, “You were bored of me, Agatha, I understand that now but by god, you could of just told me instead of stringing me along and single handedly crushing my dreams!”

Agatha looked shocked, the anger disappearing from her eyes, now replaced with something akin to despair. 

“Is that really what you thought? Still think?” 

You bit your lip as you nodded, heart about to explode in your chest at how intense this day had become. Agatha shook her head, leaning so her head now rested on your shoulder, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug. It was silent for a moment before you felt the atmosphere shift, Agatha’s hands making their way into your pants, her experienced fingers rubbing your clothed clit as she whispered into your ear. 

“I guess I have to prove you wrong.”

a/n: plz don't hate me i wrote this in two hours and i have to get up early tomorrow or else this fic would be wayyy longer and would probably banish me to self isolation bc i think im ovulating. is that tmi? who cares. ik this wasn't the best but thank you for reading! im sleep deprived

[crescenthistory]

my lovely carinaa, i'm so happy for youuu!!💫

for this celebration, could you analyze barty and how he feels around divination? wich could be if he's good at it (tarot reading, chiromancy, tea leaves reading, astrology...), or how he would interact with a friend/lover who practices it.

anyways, i want to congratulate you again for being so amazing xx 💓

hi my darling<333 thank you so so much, you are amazing and a real day 1er for me mwah

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will ANALYSE barty crouch jr. and his relationship with divination

carina's 2k celebration

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i think barty is really into divination ironically

by the time he got to his first divination class, he was already rebelling against his father and trying to create as sharp of a contrast between them as possible

considering his father is a politician who is swept up in paperwork and logistics, being a divination "fanatic" is a great way to achieve that

i mean, barty gets top grades in genuinely every single subject, i think he is the type who just puts everything together with zero effort, in that way that frustrates the academic overachievers like regulus to no end

but he rarely participates in class or use his knowledge unless it is to prove a point

so when he really throws his whole theatrical self into divination, it stands out to both students and professors alike

whether it is professor trelawney or someone else in this time period, i don't think they would be able to tell that barty is 1) bullshitting or 2) taking the piss

while evan and his other friends can clearly tell and are snickering in the background

barty would make up these elaborate stories about what he sees in the teacup or what he reads on someone's palm, gasping at what is "revealed" to him – if he was bored, he would maybe even fake cry

even though he doesn't really see anything or care all that much

his engagement and passion gets to the point where the professor invites him to have tea privately and discuss more advanced divination regularly

and barty will always commit to the bit, happily becoming the professor's favourite student and doing all the research

it was all for the act of rebellion and shits and giggles, barty's core motivations in life – until he begins to grow up a bit

as he gets towards fifth year and his perception of the world begins to even out and grow with him, i think he begins to have some change of heart

firstly, this boy has mummy and daddy issues, so being the professor's favourite would eventually do something to him

being loved? remembered? thought of? praised? validated? trusted? it was exactly what he needed

at some point, he starts viewing them as a parental figure, and quiets down on the mockery of it all

but it's not like he can just back out of how dedicated he was when he no longer wants to make as obvious of a joke of it, so instead he begins to become more earnest in his approach

especially as he learns more and more, he realises that divination is not just looking into an orb and making up random shit the way he has been approaching it; there is a method to the madness, an infinitely deep approach to this unique way of magic

while i don't think he would become a divination freak overnight, this respect would slowly be building within him as he comes to appreciate the professor more and more

made especially worse by the fact that his father got worse and worse the older he got

and as this respect grows, of course the rebellion against senior becomes more effective too, so in reality, barty still achieved what he wanted

then, if he around sixth/seventh year would begin falling for someone who is genuinely passionate about divination (whether that is whimsical!reader, spiritual!reader, etc.) that would be the final nail in the coffin

if you were to use divination in some capacity to understand him better and unpack the mystery that was barty crouch jr., he would feel so painfully seen

to have someone make an effort with him is not something he is used to

the fact that he knows so much from having weekly tea with the professor is something for you to bond over

and you get to teach barty what this form of magic means to you and how you make active use of it in your life

while barty stands by committing to bits and taking the piss out of any- and everything he can, i think he would truly see the value in it

having you hold his hand and analyse it would feel so intimate to him, and the fact that he even understood what you were saying when you read it would be something he was so grateful for

now, the joke would be less so "oh wow lads i love this useless type of magic" and rather more "i am a divination expert and i know better than all of you bigots"

(because while his affections may have changed, his personality obviously has not)

also the professor would so attend the wedding

[verysium]

ACT 1, SCENE 2: blue lock headcanons

nagi found out amazon product testers were a real thing, and he had never been more happy in his entire life. if he wasn't training to become a professional football player, that would have been his dream job.

sae became a victim of the cat distribution system the moment he moved to spain. he left his window open once, and he came back to a whole secret society of strays on his fire escape.

aryu used to watch his mother do her makeup in the bathroom every morning. after she left for work, he would use her hair curlers and nail polish to bedazzle himself. if you ever ask him to do your makeup, he would tilt your chin up with one hand and ever so gently swipe on your lipstick for you.

kaiser is a whore for attention, even if it is bad attention. if you're not listening to him during dinner, he would most definitely steal the food right off your plate whilst maintaining eye contact. gives you the most shit-eating grin once you catch him.

rin genuinely cannot function around the female species. sometimes his aunties make small talk during family gatherings, and he just sits awkwardly with his baby cousin in his arms. the baby almost always cries.

sae still uses his ipod from 2005. he doesn't have any interest in music, so he mostly uses it as a white noise filler during long flights. if you send him a song recommendation though, he will listen to it.

rin kept a diary as a teenager with some of the entries completely filled with angsty scribblings about sae. he definitely had an entire section somewhere dedicated to death and existentialism. the second half of his journal is reserved solely for you though. he sometimes doodles flowers in the margins.

raichi is chronically online. he would be the type to have an entire four-page argument with a stranger in the youtube comment section. sometimes you have to remind him that the outside world actually exists, and he needs to go outside and touch grass.

sae is secretly intrigued by artists. like how can you just transfer an image from your head onto paper? is it some sort of magic? he cannot wrap his mind around anything that isn't concrete and tangible. he sometimes walks through the streets of madrid just to spy on the old people painting the sea. if you made a drawing of him, he would internally malfunction.

isagi used to help his mother with knitting and sewing. he even learned how to crochet one summer but forgot all about it once he got into football. would not complain if you asked him to do laundry or iron clothes. he is (most of the time) very sweet and kind.

bachira does not have a sleep schedule. what is sleep? he only knows 24/7 hyperactivity and the demons under his bed. would wake you up at the crack of dawn just to go hang out in some random abandoned parking lot.

sae has to physically restrain himself whenever he does shoots for brand endorsements. he would definitely tell the truth if the product was low-quality while literally being on set for its commercial. this man does not lie. cannot model for the life of him. he lost his ability to smile a long time ago, and he feels viscerally ill every time a camera is shoved into his face. if you're there to accompany him though, he will straighten up and at least attempt to look enthusiastic.

rin is terrible at any sort of class that involves creative writing. however, he does enjoy reading haikus. it's the only form of poetry he can understand. definitely sends you one when he misses you.

reo is clueless whenever you tell him that you feel ugly in your outfit. like where is the ugliness? all he sees is the most stunning person in the world. definitely recommend taking him shopping. he would go into the fitting rooms with you and give you the most encouraging confidence boost you have ever felt.

sae has the strongest enamel in existence because he bites his popsicles right off the stick. rin tried to do that once and ended up getting brain freeze.

yukimiya is the type to go from 0 to 100 in less than a millisecond. if anyone says anything remotely negative about you, he will definitely make sure they do not live to see the light of day. he does all this with the most charming smile on his face too.

shidou has no table manners. he would be the messiest eater in existence. if the dining hall looks like a velociraptor just barraged through, you know shidou was there. he only uses a napkin because you told him to.

rin wears chelsea boots and women's clothing. he has a collection of trench coats in his closet, and they're one of the only things he's incredibly proud of. at least he beats sae when it comes to fashion sense.

ness would pack you lunch every day without you even asking for it. he also uses those glittery animal toothpicks and cuts your apples into hearts. his paper notes are little menacing though. usually it has your name written a thousand times in blood red ink.

sae would let you braid flowers into his hair, but he would wrinkle his nose in embarrassment if you ever took a picture of it. he tries to act nonchalant when you gush about how pretty he is because in his mind he looks incredibly stupid. will keep that photo by his bedside and look at it when he's lonely though.

isagi is incredibly clumsy. sometimes he will act like an egomaniac before falling right on his face. the world has an interesting way of humbling him. he does keep his mood swings in check when you're around though. your presence gives his mind inner peace.

otoya has color-coded folders for every girl he has dated. he keeps their names, likes, dislikes, and contacts all separately filed so he doesn't confuse them. however, on your night out, he got so caught up in talking to you, he forgot to even update your file. the date ended with him smiling like a damn fool. you're always the exception.

aiku is the type to just be casual about everything. he just got into a car accident while on call with you? that's okay because he got to hear your pretty voice on facetime. he took a tidal wave straight to the face while ogling you at the beach? that's no problem because he got a sneak-peek at your cute little bathing suit. this man literally has no sense of self-preservation when it comes to you.

bachira was the kid who tried to mix up weird concoctions at the school lunch table. now it translates into drinking both an energy drink and americano at once. you had to pull him away from the soda fountain because he kept trying to add every single drink combination possible into his red solo cup.

sae would blatantly stare at your ass and then tell you it was for research purposes. if you press further, he will pull up the statistics showing how buttock size correlates with athletic ability.

rin is obsessed with tea only because he saw his brother drink it at family dinners. he always sat up straight on the zabuton and sipped the bitter leaf juice as a way to impress the grown-ups. unfortunately for him, he developed a caffeine addiction in his late teens.

niko would be the tech-savvy person in your relationship. he doesn't believe in traditional flowers, so he codes you an entire HTML webpage with roses on the user interface. he also wholeheartedly believes that virtual pets are real pets.

shidou is an adrenaline junkie. he has six piercings, two of which are helix. he also snowboards during the winter and speeds on the highway for fun. (don't be like shidou, kids.)

© verysium 2023 / please do not translate, repost, or plagiarize any of my works

[moodymisty]

The Primarch's responses to their beloved ovulating:

Lion El'Jonson: Doesn't know what's that. When you explained it to him, he ran into the forest. However as an old daddy dilf HE acts like a cat in heat. 10,000 years without you? Even this autistically aggressive man realizes that that's bad

Fulgrim: "Bruh, I already knew". Magically, he somehows knows whenever his lover is menstruating or ovulating. If there is a blood moon, the wind is exactly at 11.5 km/h, the glass is by 0.075% wetter than usual and maybe a leap year, he'll fuck you. Otherwise, ‼️‼️‼️‼️🗣️🗣️🗣️ OVERSTIMULATION ACTIVATION ‼️‼️‼️🗣️🗣️🗣️

Perturabo: Teleports behind you in bed, in the night which he calculated that you should began ovulating, and is like "Wife, wake up. It's time for your monthly pelvis rupture. Also you should be ovulating. Let me take off your underwear in order to check-"

Jaghatai Khan: You tell him you're ovulating; "Okay, let's fuck." Strips you off your clothes in .2 milliseconds, fucks you in 248 different positions in 1 minute 39 seconds and 157 milliseconds, you cum about x70 times while he doesn't sweat. He laments the fact he wasn't fast enough while letting you palm his hairy titties

Leman Russ: The most excited mf ever. He and Horus have the fattest breeding kink ever. But, unlike his bro, he completely forgets about fucking his beloved and instead goes to drink "with the mates" celebrating it. Like "YAAAAA BOYS 'AM GOIN' TO FUCK MAH WIFEY AGHHFAJGAHA"

Rogal Dorn: "No." A simple no. He denies the fact that you are fertile. However during the evening, after being scolded by Good Ol' Emps for being aggressively autistic, he comes into your chambers and silently wrecks your world as he wrecked your pussy

Konrad Curze/The Night Haunter: The type of dude trying to feed the weirdest shit "for your fertility". Like he comes in with a bowl of something strange and is "Eat this, fuck toy ⊂⁠(⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠*⁠⊂⁠)" (the type of dude to have call you the most bizarre nicknames) and you later find out it's human flesh

Ferrus Manus: His wife is already madly, completely and perfectly in love with him (as he is with her). But now she wants him more? He is the happiest man alive! The Iron Hands can't get him out of the Legion Mother's quarters during this days. When she gets out, she walks around with a limp and a huge smile on her face

Angron: doesn't understand the concept of ovulation or menstruation. If you two are sexually active, he'll fuck you whenever he feels like it. Like he'll fuck you while he's slaughtering, while he's slaughtering his sons, while he's slaughtering his brother's son's, while he's slaughtering his enemies. You'll just have to grab a book or something and be a dear about it!

Roboute Guilliman: has a mental breakdown that his logistics and excel spreadsheets were wrong about the date of when you began ovulating. Cries and you try to comfort him by giving him the sloppy toppy gooah goooah 300001.2

Mortarion: is miserably happy. His hot, gorgeous, out-of-league wife wants him even more? He'll immediately oblige to her every whim. You can expect for him to agree to fuck you in the worst situations. Like he's cumming in you while Nurgle watches on and is like "THAT'S MAHH SON. ANNIHILATE THAT HUMAN FEMALE. FLAWLESS VICTORY!!!!!". Mortarion is more horny than his wife during this time.

Magnus: When you tell him, he psychically enters your mind and makes you not forget to take your birth control pills.

Horus Lupercal: "FINALLY." *the Lady of the Luna Wolves hasn't been seen ever since.*

Lorgar Aurelian: Don't let him get to you. He's not the same man this days... The man whore is being a man whore

Vulkan: His carefully veiled breeding kink is full mode. He is even lovey-dovey, which is a lot considering Vulkan. The sex is going to be romantic, with him feeling comfortable playing with his kinks. The Salamanders worry why haven't their mother walk out of her room for 3 weeks.

Corvus Corax: he ends up crying because he knows you'll be even more insatiable. You end up riding him as best as you could and spooning afterwards :3

Alpharius and Omegon: They already know. They shall know. They must know... And you're in a room with 70 different copies of your husband. The reality of being the Lady of the Alpha Legion. "Woman with 70 different husband dies after taking too much dick"

All of these made me literally laugh out loud

But Horus and Mortarion brought tears to my eyes

[jean-dieu]

All my protag from Dragon Age!! An idiot, an idiot, a sweetheart.

With very important informations regarding them of course.

Below the cut is just me rambling about them with actual informations, you can ignore LMAO

Artemis Tabris is a city elf with a fierce personality. Extremely stubborn, he refuses to stay silent in front of whatever discrimination he and his people can face. He's extremely protective of his friends and his family. Of course, it was only a matter of time before he would do something that would put him in big troubble. When his wedding day is interrupted in the worst way possible, he seeks vengeance for all the women, not caring for the consequences. He was glad to become a grey warden, as he thought it would give him the opportunity to finally be properly respected and to protect his family more than ever. He did lack the proper discipline though, often just doing whatever he wanted to do. His main past time is annoying Alistair, mostly by rubbing his relationship with Morrigan in his face. It started as more or less of a fling, but he grew very attached to her in the end, even going as far as searching for her despite everything. In the end, he gives up, and ends up with Zevran instead, and the two men manage to find happiness in life.

"Nacht" Hawke will never say his real name because he thinks it's lame. No, he's a hero, he's the main character, he's so cool, so he gets to name himself. He's a sarcastic piece of shit. He loves to annoy Carver, and the two of them doesn't go along. Despite his many flaws, he values friendship more than anything. Varric is his bff for life, and at this point they probably have matching tramp stamps tattoos. He's fiercly pro-mage, not exactly like Anders. Nacht's point of view is just "I was born like this and I just think I deserve the right to live". He's in general very against people in position of powers and in favor of the common folks. There's not a day that goes with him and Fenris fighting then kissing right after. He resented Carver when he chose to join the Templar, but they both made peace in the end, agreeing that they'll never manage to get along, but accepting to protect each other because they're family.

Aloysius Lavellan would gladly do anything else instead of being the Inquisitor. Still, the weight of the world on his shoulders is too overwhelming to ignore, and he's doing his very best to lead the organization to success. What he lacks in leadership and charisma, he makes up with determination. Cullen is coaching him for public speaking, and Josephine to polish his public image. Aloysius is in general too soft and too gentle to be a leader. He's shy, introverted, anxious, and always wondering if he did the right thing. Still, with a bit of help, he actually manages to become a worthy leader, respected for his humility and overall kindness with his men. He still doesn't know how he managed to secude Iron Bull but he's very happy about it and he loves him so very much. He tends to be kind of naive but he's very knowledgable on the world. He knows everything about plants and can rambles about them for hours. He's friends with every companion. He's a great mage, and he's always eager to improve his skills and magic, and he's not the type of man to rest on his laurels.

[anxiously-sidequesting]

Okay I'm so sorry cuz, not to post two things literally minutes apart, but I just got some inspiration for a post that's been sitting in my drafts for like 5 months now so. I want you Girlies to enjoy some Diviner headcanons I came up with

Storm wizards can visibly bristle. You know how like when your hair stands on end for any varying reasons (static shock, fear, the cold), well Storm wizards can just do this whenever. Excitement, anger, shock, etc., it can make their hair puff up and out like a dandelion. It's cute shut up

Storm wizards are physically more resistant to hearing loss (tinnitus) than any other type of wizard, but ironically enough they're the most likely to suffer from it when they're older. Along with spells of crashing storms and roaring waves they have to endure whenever they use their magic, it's common for Storm wizards to go into constructive work as adults; which involves drills and shit. A large percentage of diviners have partial or total hearing loss when they're nearing their elder years

As mentioned above, Storm wizards typically invest their time in work that involves building something in some way. Architects, plumbers, construction workers, inventors, even woodworking are jobs that you'll find are mostly Storm dominated. Due to their skill, creativity, and interest in that field they're often sought out and they often apply when they're of age

Funny enough they're paired with their magical opposite, Myth wizards, when it comes to certain things because they're also good at creating things for some reason(?). Myth wizards typically create things like art, so you'll see Myth wizards being authors, movie and play directors, performers, song writers, etc. Whether they need props for their shows or some Diviner thinks they can just do it better than a Myth wizard they usually find themselves together in a professional setting. Sparks fly

Storm wizards typically have incredible vocal range and are able to do really cool things with their voices. Ventriloquism, since they're able to throw their voice around. Mimicking other people's voices and even animal sounds with an eerie accuracy and some are even very good singers. (I'm pulling this from the website where it says that storm wizards use their voices to charm storm creatures into helping them. and also the Sirens exist)

Storm wizards are also just kinda loud. They shout and yell a lot even when they don't have to. They're banned from libraries /j

If their magic is strong enough, Diviners can sense, smell, and even taste storms miles away from when they hit. Not all of them can do this but it's very fortunate to have a friend go "oh yeah we're gonna have a tornado in a couple of hours" even if they were warned on the weather for cats beforehand

(((i was gonna say that they would be good hypnotists because that sounds metal as fuck and it seems like they have that kind of power anyway. but im afraid im making them too OP as it is so this is just kinda up in the air)))

Diviners get zoomies. It's common for them to be very "flighty" in general but when they get that random burst of energy or when they just feel super happy or euphoric for some reason they are flipping off walls man. Running around and squirming and shit. Menaces

[eltube]

(new fic!) Evil-Adult-Anon

I wrote this fic as a gift for @kndrules’ birthday this year (Happy Birthday Jay!) and after he mentioned it offhand someone was interested in reading it—so I am posting it here for all to see!

It takes place in our adult AU, where—for reference—sector V members are about 35 years old. This fic doesn’t feature sector V, though; it stars Cree!! Who is in her forties, a Japanese history professor, and still coming to terms with her life after Father. (Father is recently in prison—basically, if you have any questions about the details of this timeline, feel free to ask about it.) It also features special guests (The) Steve and The Toilenator, though you may not recognize him at first.

Enjoy!

With every step she took into the hotel lobby, Cree gripped the shoulder strap of her canvas bag a little tighter. She had tried to dress casual, but put-together: one of her nicer cardigan sweaters, the pants she actually ironed, and her new shoes with the fancy broguing on the sides. Her locs were tied back in a small, loose bun behind her, and she figured that–at least if nobody zeroed in on the death grip of that one hand on her bag���she probably looked pretty composed from the outside. 

She needed the death grip though, because the farther away she got from her partner’s familiar car, the more she felt her bravado slipping away, already making a smaller woman under this big, domed ceiling. Steve had told her way too many times that she’s “got this,” working his clueless magic that once again made her enough of a fool to believe him. Now, the stronger illusion of her–the stranger who so confidently waved at Steve as he dropped her off, as if this was all her idea–was looking down at her real self with a mixture of smug superiority and pity. 

She ran her palm along the bag’s material as she walked on the lobby carpet, grounding herself (as she had been taught to call it) by feeling the bumps along the surface. She recognized and remembered the shapes of the file folders, overflowing with booklets of paper, packed inside. Cree had brought her students’ essays along with her, like she always did during exam seasons in case she had a few moments to catch up on marking them. 

In this case, bringing the student papers along had been a kind of silent, last-ditch prayer of desperation. Like, maybe this whole thing would actually be cancelled, right? Everyone would go home, not even knowing she had shown up, and she could sit peacefully alone on these pearly white couches until Steve’s band finished practicing, just reading first-year history students’ takes on bushido and cracking up without a care in the world. 

It wasn’t going to happen–but honestly, she just needed the fantasy to get her out the door. As the knots in her stomach were reminding her very loudly now, she really did not want to come.

Trying the grounding again, Cree focused on the surroundings of the hotel as she moved towards the conference room, reminding herself to “name three things” for each of her senses. She had resisted this strategy at first, how babyish it sounded. To her displeasure though, she had to admit that when she actually tried it eventually, the damn thing worked.

I hear…the front desk people typing. Luggage carts. A fountain.

I see…ugly wallpaper. Plants. A snack counter…huh, looks like they have ice cream. That logo is familiar. 

I smell…what do hotels smell like? The scent of blandness? Parfum du nothing? ‘Clean stank’? Sure, those count as three things.

I taste…DAMMIT! FUCK! SHIT!

A jolt of surprised rage yanked Cree out of the ritual. She strode directly into something blocking her path, priming her to explode at whoever put it there–and then, just as fast, a wave of hot embarrassment followed. She realized she had knocked her foot against a sign outside the conference room. It was, actually, the exact sign she was supposed to be looking out for.

 “SUPPORT GROUP HERE,”--the text on the cardboard seemed to be shouting out loud to mock her as it toppled over. Cree couldn’t help but project onto it like it was a person she hated, some shrill little kid maybe, pointing and going LOOK WHAT THIS WEIRD LADY DID for the whole hotel to hear. Scrambling to catch herself and prop the thing back up–make it be quiet–Cree looked around, praying that no one had seen her “calm” herself into a clumsy mess. Luckily, it seemed like it was a secret between her and the security cameras at most.

“So much for mindfulness,” she muttered to herself, silently cursing her therapist. That lady was definitely going to hear about the mess she caused with her advice next week. On the bright side, though, all the potential awkwardness Cree felt around walking into this conference room seemed tamer in comparison, now. She let out a long-suffering breath, reasoning that she had come this far, and put on a brave face as she crossed the threshold.

—

The room was set up just the way Cree had imagined it–she couldn’t tell if she found this funny or downright irritating, the cliche of the scene. The circle of folding chairs, the table of cheap coffee, the name tags…it all felt like the setup of a joke at her expense, and when she found herself taking a sharpie and actually writing Cree on one–eugh—that was the punchline. 

A nametag, as if these people didn’t know exactly who she was. Even if she had changed her hair or her mannerisms much in the last 15 or so years, she was, she noted bitterly, the only Black woman in the room, so she would always be unmistakable. 

At least no one’s staring at me. At least not until my back is turned. 

The cheap label stuck to the right side of her sweater, she kept her hand on her bag as she sat slowly down in one of the chairs. It was stiff, but she took some small pride in having good posture. Others in the room, many of whom she was surprised not to recognize–shouldn’t I know everybody here?--were all milling around and making small talk, like friends. They smiled at each other, touched shoulders, laughed; they probably came here dutifully every second week while she was hiding at home.

People started to take their seats around her, and Cree tried to block the lonely resentment building in her gut from showing on her face. As the meeting started and the scattered conversations died down, she closed her eyes and conjured up her confident self from the car again, a witch conjuring ghosts of the past. She would need magic not to screw this up.

Directly across from her, one middle-aged man stayed standing with his hands folded; he, she assumed, was the group leader she talked to on the phone. 

“Welcome, everybody,” he said, and his familiar voice confirmed Cree’s guess. “Now that everyone’s sitting, we can start.”

The man, tall and Latino with greying hair and broad arms, had already introduced himself to Cree last week as Paolo. He was friendly enough, and thoughtful enough with his direct invitation to attend the meeting, that she tragically couldn’t refuse it anymore without looking like a complete jerk. And as always seemed to be the case with these people, he said he knew who she was, but she never remembered meeting him–and again, she wondered if this tendency to erase people’s names and faces from her memory made her arrogant. 

She tried to console herself with the fact that, at least in this case, there were reasons Paolo might have been forgettable; ice cream men were always wearing those stupid hats anyway, and they all looked the same in uniform. It’s not like she was hanging out with them back in the day—they were never even invited to those Anti-Kid Bingo Nights. 

Ugh, she had almost forgotten how much she hated those.

“First of all,” Paolo continued, with the attention of the room bringing Cree back. “Thanks to everyone again who brought food. Feel free to say something about your recipe when we do the circle…if it’s not a family secret!”

There were good-hearted chuckles scattered around Cree where the older members sat, the kind she hears from the tenured professors pushing 70 at work. When she’s not scared of getting a day older, part of Cree looks forward to getting to an age where unfunny jokes make her laugh like that.

“Now, we’ll start with me like always. We don’t have too many new folks here today,”--and Cree felt his lack of eye contact with her here was deliberate–”but it’s always good to introduce ourselves just in case. So, hi everyone. My name’s Paolo–feel free to share just your first name, or your last too, whatever’s comfortable–and, well, when I’m not running this group, I’m the Ohio regional representative of Tasty Taste. It’s been really rewarding for me to help build the new face of the company, and, hey…I’m sure it’s also rewarding for us that I’m able to offer free ice cream to everyone here.” 

There was a murmur of chuckles from the group again, and Cree remembered the stand she had passed on the way in, the shape and colours of the logo all clicking into place. The new face of the company. So the stand used to belong to…hell, maybe the whole hotel used to be his. Suddenly she felt a pang of nausea, like the chair she was sitting on might be coated in poisonous slime.

Paolo went on. “I’ll pass the intros around the circle now, and feel free to share anything about yourself. It can be a fact about you related to the group or not! Then we’ll go into a theme for this week’s discussion. Lou, you’re on my right–why don’t you go ahead?”

Paolo sat down, and the man next to him looked up and smiled at the group shyly. He was white and semi-elderly, with a belly but stringy, gangly limbs, and he sported a decidedly balding head of thin blonde hair. Cree didn’t recognize this guy, either, and assumed he was another ice cream man. How common was it, she wondered, for men like Paolo to still be working at Tasty Taste now?

“Hi, I’m Lou,” the new man said, and something about his voice sounded instantly familiar. “I brought some quiche today, but it is a bit of a family secret with my husband and me…” He grinned. “Um, I work as a [gastrointestinal specialist] now, but for a long time I guess people probably just knew me as a guy who walked around wearing a goofy costume…a guy who no one liked.”

With that bit of context, in his timid voice, it dawned on her. Holy shit. Her mouth fell open, shocked by how bizarrely normal he seemed across from her now. That’s the Toilenator.

Nobody noticed her gaping expression while Lou continued, now so clearly resembling a time-lapsed version of the villain, like a parody act that walked offstage. “It’s been great for me to get to know people through this group,” he smiled, “And I’m glad more people are coming every time. Sigmund doesn’t come with me since it’s not his experience, but he says he can really tell it makes a difference and he’s grateful to all of you.”

Lou sat back in his chair and the group clapped, something that Cree gathered was customary during this “introductions” phase. She awkwardly raised her hands and clapped once, feeling distinctly stupid, like she was at show-and-tell or something. How long has the Toilenator been married? 

More than that—though she realized how cruel it was, while he was being vulnerable—Cree was embarrassed to think she had any common issues with the Toilenator. 

As the next few people introduced themselves, their words blurred into nonsense and this parallel between them horrified her more and more. She was suddenly haunted by a mirror image of herself, wearing an oversized toilet seat around her head, getting bullied by people—who were, by all accounts, total freaks themselves—is that the kind of company she was seeking solace in? 

More people spoke, mostly ice cream men, or B-list villains, or some guy who watered the lawn at the mansion. Ignoring them, she wondered if the Toilenator had any of the same messed up problems as her—maybe he even went to the same therapists about it. Maybe right after Cree left those offices, all woe-is-me, this old guy walked in after her, clearly doing so much better about it since he can be at home making quiche all day. As if all of this couldn’t be more humiliating, now the Toilenator was beating her at therapy! 

“…would like to share something?”

Cree looked up as she noticed the room was staring at her, expectant. It was silent now, no one else sharing, meaning it must have been her turn to speak. She stupidly opened and closed her mouth and sat up straighter, running her hand along her canvas bag nervously again.

”I, uh.”

Paolo was looking over and smiling patiently, and the patience of it sort of made it worse.

”Sorry. I’m…I didn’t bring anything. Didn’t know it was a potluck. I um…well, you all know who I am. I’m Cree. You know me whether you met me back then or not. Everyone keeps telling me to come to one of these things, but I never felt like I…I dunno, deserved it. But now I’m here, so I guess I have to catch everyone up.” 

Once the first words were out of her mouth, it became a kind of compulsion to speak, which in a way was a mercy. She caught faces with eyes burning into her, but fought the urge to try and read their thoughts.

”So, I was Father’s apprentice. For…10 years? Something like that.” 

Speaking his name made it real. She might as well jump right into it. 

”I guess, you know…I realized in my mid-20s, that after everything I worked for, I wanted out. It wasn’t worth it, and he never intended to give me any of the power he promised. I guess a lot of you worked for him for money, but he never even paid me. Then I realized it was his future or mine—he didn’t want me going to school, didn’t want me doing anything that took me farther away, and I guess…something in me sensed it would only get worse. I took a chance, I left, I cut contact and left for college and didn’t look back. I was scared he’d come after me but lo and behold the case against him came together just in time. And it’s only with him in prison that I feel like I can say anything without putting everyone I know in danger, so I’m not used to…saying anything. But I’m trying to start.”

 The room was listening intently, with a kind of respect that she only got in a really good lecture—the kind she never expected and worried she couldn’t rise to. She kept talking anyway, facts spilling out of her that she was always worried would explode if exposed to the air.

”I had some distance from everything, and I compartmentalized everything from back then until I graduated, but…you know, I still live with all the shit I did, while I worked for him, while I was trying to prove that I could be him someday. What I did to kids, to my own kid sister…and I went to him, right? And I did it year after year, and I convinced myself they deserved it. I didn’t think it was right to call myself a victim, because of that. Sometimes I felt I should have been sentenced with him. But becoming…”

 She took a shaky breath, feeling the full weight of the listening silence. “…becoming a teacher, when I’m working with my students…they’re all adults, right, but even then, I keep thinking…the power I have over them scares me. When I think about doing to them what he did, I feel sick, and it just makes me realize…damn, it was wrong when it happened to me, too. I was like that back then, just…young, and powerless, and wanting to impress someone who could move me up. No matter what it took, right? And he knew that. Even the guilt I’m feeling now, it…he made me feel it on purpose. And it worked.”

Cree had her eyes trained on the floor now, on a space between her shoes, and she was afraid to look up after saying what she knew was far too much. These people connected to her by Father’s common thread of abuse—she didn’t know if their pity or their total apathy to her pain would be more devastating. Whatever reaction there would be, it was the one she was afraid of—it was the escaping of the story, the reveal to the world, that hurt her every time. 

—

Cree felt her arm quickly shoot up to her face to wipe at a hot tear escaping. She and Steve had joked on the way over about how her crying was an inevitability, that it was just about how many fugitive tears she let get away. She thought she had prepared for it then, but she never could.

”Cree,” Paolo said in the silence, his voice sounding even-toned and not so sympathetic as to taunt her. “We are all so glad that you came to a meeting. And though it may not be at all close to what you’ve experienced in its intensity, I think you’ve put words to a dynamic that many of us in this group felt in our work lives for a long time.”

Cree bit down on her cheeks and braved glancing up again, seeing that several people were nodding respectfully, including Lou, who had an indisputably kind smile on his face. She wanted to mock it, but it was too genuine for that.

The woman sitting beside Cree wordlessly handed her a tissue and a glass of water, which she sheepishly accepted. When Paolo continued he addressed the entire group, taking attention away from her, helping her come back from where she had gone.

”Many people have said in group before,” Paolo said, gesturing to the circle, “that we have feelings of guilt, like you described. That we feel we can’t be considered Father’s victims, because we weren’t children when he hurt us, or because he didn’t hit us physically, or because we only suffered abuse in the workplace and not interpersonally.” There were more nods around him. 

“It comes up quite often, too, that members of the group are ourselves perpetrators—we hurt children on his payroll, and so we had no right to speak. And it’s true that many of us are guilty of things that we very well may not be forgiven for.” Paolo shrugged. “I’ve spoken to some people, former Kids Next Door operatives, who I hurt while I was an ice cream man. I want nothing more than to reconcile with them, but some of them—rightfully, I think—don’t speak to any of us. There’s a reason this group is for people who worked for Father. We all feel this tension. But it is powerful to break the cycle.”

Cree smiled, finding Paolo’s speech corny, but in a way that released some tension in her. The Toilenator—Lou, Cree reminded herself—was standing up and passing a dish around, apparently sensing an opportunity to relax everyone further. A thin elderly man looked over as he took a piece of quiche, adding his input:

“I had hoped I would see you at a meeting soon, Ms. Lincoln,” he said, and she immediately recognized his voice as the butler, Wintergreen’s. He broke into a smile at the way her eyes must have widened. “Yes, it’s been many years—and I often wondered if you were well, after you disappeared.” His face grew serious again, and he added: “I saw a lot of things back then that, if I could go back, I would not have allowed, or so I tell myself. There are people I would have protected. If I had been a better man…well. The point is to be a better man, now. Though a very old one, certainly.”

That old refrain of laughter, of middle-aged amusement at a tired joke, bubbled up and helped eat away at the nerves of the moment. Cree’s smirk was one of genuine mirth, this time. Her mind swirled with possibilities of what Wintergreen had been doing, feeling, all this time. Here was someone who served Father tea, who made the delightful children sandwiches for lunch. She had never even thought he had a conscience. But in its way, that must weigh on him, too.

Maybe she wasn’t—in every way—alone.

”I became a teacher after I left the business, too,” one ice cream man added, holding a hand under his quiche to catch the crumbs. “And I think what you said about teaching—seeing yourself in your students, and everything—well, that was a really good point. My students are adult learners, and in a new country, so sometimes when I see them lacking confidence, I remember how I felt when I messed up at work and Father exploded at me…you know, it takes me right back there. I’m not an angry guy, and I try to make class fun, but I just think…what if? What if that’s me one day? Sometimes I even have to leave the class because it messes me up. But, I don’t know if this is true for you…it makes it feel more rewarding to do it the right way. To be patient and not like some tyrant. I keep reminding myself that’s not who I am, because I get to decide.”

”I feel the same way about my patients,” Lou beamed, sitting back down now that the quiche tray was empty. “I love reassuring them, especially about things that are embarrassing, like stomach issues can be.” He shrugged. “Humiliation was a common theme in the ways all the villains targeted me, but it doesn’t have the same power anymore.”

”Damn, everyone sure moved up!” Cree thought aloud, laughing in spite of herself. “I guess the job market can’t be that bad, huh?”

”Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Paolo laughed back. “After all, this group is my big career move, and they pay me in quiche!”

The response to this quip was uproarious, so disproportionately so that Cree found herself earnestly cackling along. As the evening wound down, the relief of introducing herself gave way to a rush of endorphins, powering her forward. 

She had conversations with people her teen self would have never spoken to—wouldn’t have been caught dead sitting in a circle with. That old outline of herself would have called this group a joke, a bunch of expired villains sitting in a circle like a kindergarten class, a cautionary tale about what happens when you let yourself go soft. 

She would have laughed about that with her teen ninja friends and then gone home alone, tried to sleep with the pit in her gut, knowing that she’d have to meet him tomorrow, to give her report, to get her orders. In the back of her mind, Cree thought to herself how much she would have wanted to hold that lonely girl. How much she wished she could call her up and invite her here herself.

—

By the time Cree met the car in the parking lot, she had four phone numbers tucked in her pocket, scrawled on hotel stationary in shaky hands by people who swore they had gotten the hand of technology enough to stay in touch. She often told people she’d call them or text them, fully intending to throw their cards in the trash the second she left—she didn’t intend that, this time. Though she guessed that time would always tell.

Steve unlatched the door handle and grinned at her from the front seat, a fry from the fast food place nearby hanging out of his mouth. “What’sh up?” He said, lips full, and then swallowed quickly to free up his speech. “Band practice was awesome today, you’re gonna love the new album.”

Cree climbed in, slung her bag over her shoulder and onto the floor in front of her. She realized how heavy it was, what she had been carrying all day.

“I’ll judge that when I hear it,” Cree grinned back. “Did you get me a burger?”

“‘Course.” Steve shook the paper bag beside him. “Your go-to after a rough day. I’m guessing you need it, huh? Tell me about everything that sucked on the way home, I’m all ears.”

“Actually,” Cree looked out the window, watching the hotel start to roll past as the car moved. She smiled again despite herself. “I was gonna say you can have it. The eating’s pretty good at these things. And man, you won’t believe who made the food.”

[demonjunction]

I love the Wayne family, and now I'm very curious what attracted Willie to Willow.

Really, it comes down to the fact Willie is an idiot. Now, I typically don't call people idiots, because I think naturally struggling with some things is horrible to name call someone for, so, let me put it more accurately. Willie is a willful idiot. He is well aware that he is not book smart, very emotionally intelligent, or good at stopping his sentimentality from clouding his judgement, yet he lowkey gets offended when others pick up the slack or so much as want to compliment his flaws with their strengths.

The thing is, Willie could very well make up for these flaws by having more direct conversations with others, letting them know he's there to listen if they need him, or asking for specifics when someone is upset, but he chooses not to. He wants to be the hero that gets to stop the disaster and then fly away, never dealing with the aftermath of anything. He wants that to be enough even when he knows it's not, because his idea of heroics is extremely superficial and he hates the idea of unpacking that.

His previous wife, Laura, very much picked up the slack for him. I think he secretly loathed that she never trusted his decisions, even though the decisions he made were severely irresponsible. He constantly based them on ideas around the greater good, not the well being of his family. Willie was very much the type to say shit like "they have two young kids at home, they need this more than we do", all while having kids of the same age. His family was just this magical, untouchable concept that could never go awry, a sort of extension of himself. If he was strong, so were they, and he was shell shocked when it did, mentally lying to himself and convincing himself his children were happy when they left the house.

Going a bit off topic, but I promise it's relevant. I think this is why Willie combats with Cor so much, because Cor recognizes her own flaws, and either works within them or with people that make up for them quite well. Aka, Cor makes Willie look really bad without meaning to simply by being self reflective and realistic with what she can and can't do. For instance, she's not always great at picking up on emotional cues, so she'll ask others directly if they're alright or what they mean, etc. Queen and Cor are business partners because Queen is better at picking up on some emotional cues or reasoning than Cor is, and Cor never chastises Queen for that. Also, in direct contrast to her dad, Cor adores strong women who are not afraid to take charge and kick her in the ass when she lets any of her flaws overcome her, so long as that's what makes them both happy. Honestly, even Willie's completely sadistic son, Sin, puts him to shame, checking in on Cor whenever they're together at family reunions while Willie pretends everything is alright, and I think Willie is well aware of that.

But Willow? She is a literal (well, with the ears), scared bunny who lashes out unprovoked at those she feels want to put creative individuals like her in boxes, which ironically means she puts them in boxes instead. Next to her, Willie suddenly looks like the more sensible and reasonable one, not to mention, Willow seeking guidance from him strokes his ego. He has the excuse of not participating in conflict, because it will make his anxious wife nervous, and he values her happiness over his own, supposedly. Unlike with Laura, Willie feels as if he's treated as capable, even if he does very little to earn that title. They're also commentary on how complacent couples in Heaven can be in some ways. In Heaven, Willie doesn't have to worry about being called out for not worrying about the big things, because everything is handled. But, he can feel achieved dealing with the more practical things Willow doesn't want to, since she wants to focus primarily on her art (mood, honestly). So it's a win-win all around, except for his adult children who still have to deal with his BS point of views.

[blitz0hn0]

For the ask game: general 1, 3, 6, 7. Prisoner, 1, 3 (Amane), 4 (mikoto) I didn’t ask too much questions did I

I AM SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG RAHHHH I got the notif, forgor, got another ask for this like a day ago, forgot again, and finally check my inbox today lmao you asked the perfect amount of questions no worries!!

General:

1. My favorite prisoner? It really is Mikoto I cannot tell a lie 😭 why? He's just... So heartbreakingly earnest. And when I was on Milgram Twitter back in 2021 I really didn't want his story to be a DID story. I wasn't about to discuss that stuff on a pretty public account no matter how intrigued we were. However, as time went on, and we thought about how all the other prisoners are "mentally ill" in some form or another, we held out hope that the whole "DID murderer who doesn't remember" thing would be subverted in some way. We came to really really look forward to his second trial, and after Purge March even moreso. In our opinion, Milgram team fuckin DELIVERED when Oct. 25th came around. While I personally relate more to John, Mikoto's story and how it's being told are very important to me. The extreme ambiguity of it all makes it better honestly; it's strikingly realistic in that sense. A host who has no idea what's going on or how to deal with it, in a boat with a bunch of presumable singlets who feel the same way, strikes a chord that few other medias have. Plurality is a very difficult topic to do justice, but I think Mikoto's narrative is very humanizing.

3. Favorite headcanon has gotta be the sibling-type relationships, particularly Amane and Fuuta. I love the idea of them stirring up trouble together. Trans headcanons are also my favorite anything ever (transmasc Fuuta and Mikoto/John and nonbinary Amane are my personal favs but transfemme!Fuuta, transfemme!Kazui and other trans headcanons are all GOATed imo)

6. RAHHHHHHH DIFFICULT favorite MV? siiiigh it probably is MeMe. Surprise tone-shift? Check. Tarot motif? Check. THE CRIME IN BRUTAL DETAIL? Check. Lyrics go crazy. Color palette goes crazy. Outfits go crazy. Although I will say "I Love You" is criminally underrated and provocative. Also LOVVVVED Harrow, Tear Drop, INMF, Purge March and Deep Cover. It's so hard to pick!!

7. Who I would get along with? Ironically, probably Fuuta. I think I would put up with his gruff attitude better than most, and we'd probably have similar worldviews regarding justice and the systems in place in society. I've been in similar (thankfully less serious) positions regarding his murder. We both enjoy video games and ramen lol he's still a little shit tho. I also feel like Yuno and I have very similar worldviews and would get along just fine.

Prisoners:

1. What do I think of Amane? Easily one of my favorites. Why? SHE IS SO REAL THAT'S WHY. She's thoroughly heartbreakingly indoctrinated but STILL trusts herself enough to do what's in her best interest in protecting herself. She denies herself so much joy to honor her devotions, even though I'm almost sure she will come to realize that the only "god" looking out for her is her. She just wants everyone to have the "heaven" of infinite happiness she's been promised, and doesn't yet understand that it's something one must make for themselves and that no one can see and know her every move and judge her like that.

3. Amane's first verdict was cruel, but I understand why it happened. Magic's very vague about who she killed and it seemed like she did it simply because the doctrine said to. It was almost like she'd been manipulated into doing it and didn't feel bad at all. When really, she was just joyous that she got to punish her abuser for once, using the rules THEY told her; not the other way around. I still do regret voting "unforgiven," personally. Her second verdict though? Based. I was in the trenches w y'all for that shit. Purge March my beloved. She had every right to punish someone who would torture a child and I don't see how Kotoko doesn't get that??? Amane inno sweep all the way they better treat my girl RIGHT from now on.

4. What do I wish people understood more about Mikoto? Woooo boy. How do I word this.

In the fandom: Mikoto is just a host alter - he's as capable of being mean and aggressive as John is capable of being nice. And his response to John and anger towards the protector is as natural as it is unfair. He's not immune to being a flawed human and deals with stress very differently from John despite sharing a body. Mikoto's denial keeps him going along "normally," but it's doubtless that "he," Mikoto, is truly the responsible one for the crime (as hosts often are the ones making big decisions). And idk, people seem to understand overall?? But there still seems to be confusion sometimes, about how John isn't "just" a protector, but a completely separate person/ego state. Neither one is the "main" alter, or a "nicer"/"better" alter. They're rounded people like the rest of the prison.

In-universe: I wish they understood him and John. I wish they knew he switched sometimes, and that though they're different they aren't dangerous just by virtue of being like that. I wish Mikoto wouldn't shame himself for not "measuring up," and accept himself and what he's done. But we're going to superhell so idk about that.

Thanks for asking!

[magicalgirlagency]

Whats your thoughts on Mami Tomoe in general? I dont like PMMM but Mami does interest me alot as a character concept: a veteran MG who took other, younger MGs under her wings to guide them; whom sees enough shits in her time that shes gone somewhat unstable but keep up a facade of cheerfulness to comfort her students. Im intending to create a character using this concept as well.

I wanted my character to have her Happy Ending - the rest of her younger teammates as well. I think it'd be rather ironic to base her on a dark MG while she belongs to a lighhearted Magical girl story. Shes still in a vague designing state, with a concept and some basic traits and backstory. I wanted to her to be a MG veteran who saw some serious shits during her younger days too, but with help from her mascot (who is not the bad guy in this story) and eventually the MGs whom shes teaching, shes healing from her past traumas and is on the road to a beautiful future.

I know there are other MGs from other shows that are good mentors for their team, but weirdly enough Mami was the first one who introduce me to this concept (PMMM was also the one to introduce me to the Maho Shojo gerne, but I dont like it so I evetually follow Pretty Cure instead, best choice ive ever made) so shes the one I pick to base my character on. Mostly for the ironic part.

I absolutely adore her. I even had a sideblog entirely dedicated to her back when this account got temporarily deleted, just to have any idea of how much I loved her. Heck, one of my self-inserts was inspired by her, too.

One of the many reasons why I love Mami could dial back to Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon's Kino Makoto/Sailor Jupiter. A strong yet sensitive girl who has lost her parents on a tragic accident and now craves the feeling of a family with the friends she makes.

Mami is indeed a fascinating character herself, and I think her death, while understandably haunting the narrative afterwards at least, was very disrespectful (she died in the span of ONE episode! Right after she debuted!) and the jokes that were relentlessly cracked by everyone and their mother for 10+ years are not funny at all.

Imagine if I were to crack jokes about Flapjack's death. You guys wouldn't like them, would you?

No, you guys wouldn't like them. It'd be cruel and done in bad taste.

Anyways, back to Mami...

She's the cool and experienced onee-san/senpai type of character, approachable and friendly; she's skilled and graceful, plus with an epic theme tune to boot. Of course, her calm and collected persona is just a mask that hides how terribly lonesome and scared she is. To quote Bebe in The Rebellion Story:

"Mami is a real crybaby. She gets lonely super-easy; I know, I know."

Homura's description is more in-depth, though:

"She would always put on a strong front and push herself too hard, despite having the softest heart of any of us."

This vulnerability of hers is more explored in Magia Record, though. She joins the Wings of Magius so she could help in finding a cause to save her friends from despairing and becoming Witches, as she feels guilty for dragging them into such a hostile world.

Except that the WoM's methods were very cultish, thus causing her to be brainwashed and used as a puppet, distance herself from the ones she was supposed to guide and protect, and when she'd be challenged by outsiders, she'd quickly lose her cool.

Turns out that no matter the timeline/universe, Tomoe Mami will always be the first one to crack at the revelation.

And I like that, because it makes her morally grey, which it's something quite rare in the Magical Girl genre. She wants to save her friends, but she has participated in dangerously unorthodox methods to achieve such an end.

Anyways, I've been rambling about Mami for too long, that I've forgotten your concept. Sorry! Your idea is amazing! My followers having galaxy-brained suggestions, as always!

[dumuzithemessiah]

If anyone deserves to be hugged from Kingdom Hearts the most..

Vanitas deserves it…He’s been through enough shit as it is…

With all the abuse he’s been through + strong negative emotions he’s been through…

As Darkness is one of my domains and as someone with no physical light in me I would be the someone he could relate to…

I would give Vanitas the hug he seriously needs…just because someone is a dark type doesn’t mean they have to be evil…

I’m literally known as The Rainbow Hero/Hero of Rainbows as that is what the Nibirian word Messiah means...although the rainbows are more so moonbows…

The word Messiah always referred to me not your false man made lie called Jesus as he is so fake as the letter J is only 500 years old as translations of lies made my man have been made over time… plus Cesare Borgia is where the fake Jesus gets his face from proving how much of a lie Jesus and Christianity is!

Multiple gods and goddesses exist! So tough shit if you lying hateful vile deceitful humans don’t like the truth and reality of everything! Truth doesn’t favour your hateful selfish species!

You humans have done nothing but act hateful, deceitful, intolerant, murderous, warlike, evil, act actually racist, and act terrible throughout history…

Mankind deserves what they’re gonna get on Judgement Day…

Humans gonna get “The Big E” for all the lives they took and continue to take and for damaging the Kosmos that badly to the point if my kind doesn’t act when Judgement Day happens then the Kosmos is gonna explode and that would destroy the Universe and kill all mortal life…. Magical life can escape such destruction…

So based on that and how much pain I’ve been in with neglect, abuse, lack of support, being attacked for being not human, lack of those who truly understand me, being treated badly because my existence proves their lies as what they are: lies…etc…so I can understand a bit what Vanitas goes through… as I go through similar pain, anger, and depression….but for different reasons…

I’d be producing Unversed too if they existed with how I’ve felt throughout my time on Earth….

Vanitas and I aren’t so different as humanity often calls me evil for speaking the truth and for being a dark type…

But unlike Vanitas I at least try to do the right thing…

I hope Kingdom Hearts gives Vanitas a redemption and happy ending with him and Ventus being true brothers and him becoming a true person…

I also lack actual light in me so I can also relate to Vanitas in that area too…

I separated my light into two beings: Kosmin and Lumuzi.

I also separated my “feminine” side making Geshtinonna.

Nibirians have reverse gender standards compared to humans…

We look nothing like humans either…

So the whole gods resemble humans is a man made lie…

I am married to Marduk but haven’t seen him since I arrived on Earth so I really miss him… Marduk is a light type with no darkness in him…

So he in a way makes up for the lack of light in me…

But as of right now I am alone and miss my family… so many emotions of anger, loneliness, sadness, stress, depression, etc…

So I am a lot like Vanitas in that way…

So ironic that the god[[aka me]] who created the Universe and Multiverse is a bit like Vanitas..

When I was younger in the First Universe I was a bit more like Sora… Pretty much a cheerful goober of a boy…

It’s pretty stupid to call me “vain” or “egotistical” just for being what and who I am as I can’t help being me…

So humans, who have done such great amount of harm and bloodshed, I will ask this: Who are you: A species that has literally messed up the balanced of life and death, spread so much war and genocide, spread so much lies and hate, etc, to call anyone egotistical but yourselves?!

I literally sacrifice my own happiness to heal the Kosmos, stress myself out by speaking the truth - which is part of my job but still - am far away from my own family and friends thus am lonely, and to top of that I deal with bullshit after bullshit every fucking day!

You humans have zero right to call anyone egotistical but yourselves!

Think of history and how humans have acted as even today they act horrible towards another!

I made the Kosmos and in turn the Universe put of loneliness and desire to be surrounded by loved ones! Eventually that lead to me protecting others from harm! And I literally sacrifice myself in the First Universe to take out The Great Evil Herself!

And given what horrible things Ishtayr did to me… she held me against my own will, forced me to marry her by using evil magic to make me agree in order to hold me against my will, did the grape without the g which is possible as shapeshifting is a thing…she also tortured me with fire, scarred me up, threw flaming spiders at me, etc, then when I sit by her throne cause I thought maybe some good was in her, then she yeets me into Kohora aka the true Underworld?!

There is a reason why a god who has life as one of his domains also has death, reincarnation, resurrection, etc!

And humans think I’M SELFISH?! With the literal hell I’ve been through?

I could go on and on about the bad things I’ve been through..

Okay I got it way worser than Vanitas… If Vanitas wasn’t a fictional character he’d be shocked how bad I’ve had it in my life..

Plus what happened in the City of Hell? Ancient city with a blood nectarine orchard? Had Ishtayr worshippers? They attacked my twin children I had with Marduk named Qupit and Yorupit… they couldn’t fly after the attack…

I literally raged and burned down the ancient city as there was nothing but evil there and no, nobody was gay in that city as hateful lying Christards love to lie about! Just all sorts of evil that you’d normally think of as evil! And those who tried to escape and looked back turned to stone from the sight of the dark elemental flames!

I only brought the twins there as I thought we could quickly pick some nectarines… the twins begged me to go… and they wouldn’t take no for an answer….

I hope the twins…my children…are doing better now though…

I just want all the evil to go away…. This Helveon War as it’s been dubbed to finally end so I can be with my loved ones and for Ishtayr to be gone…

Nothing the false Messiah Jesus was written to go through can hold a damn candle to the horrible shit I’ve been through… Jesus is just a fake anyways as he never existed and the whole Jewish king thing came from Nabatean writings about me when I was trying to teach humanity the truth!

Sin means “wisdom” in Ancient Nibirian not “crime” you hateful lying human bastards…

Sin also is my disguised form when I returned to the middle world aka the Universe as Yumera aka Dream World is above the Universe and below it is Kohora which is a surreal magical paradise!

Stop taking words from my homeplanet and corrupting them with your hateful lies!

A satahn is a word meaning magical prosecutor not an evil entity or an individual!

Ehden means “wilderness” not “paradise” like you humans gleefully lie your asses off claiming what it means but in reality your false meaning isn’t fact but a lie! It is pronounced Eh-den not Ee-den, you jerks!

And being one of The Holy Four Kosmos Deities I can assure you I feel the Kosmos’s pain directly..

And if you think I’m harsh I’ll have you know other members of my kind aka other gods and goddesses wouldn’t put up with humanity’s evil ways either…

It’s a mixed bag what god or goddess is real as Pele for example is real and she’s royally pissed at humanity! Pele is the daughter of King Enkai and Queen Ninsun who’re both male and are my rebirth parents but yeah mythologies are written by man thus don’t hold any accuracy hardly!

[gotta-hug-em-all]

The end? or the beginning?

Hiya cuties! I’m uh… not used to writing in this sorta way, I usually post on other websites, but this one is kinda too long to put anywhere else. So you’re stuck with me blogging it instead! Hope that’s ok with all the fine residents of Rotomblr! Just some background, I can’t keep Pokemon because I didn’t pass the really easy yearly “are you smart enough to raise Pokemon '' competency exam. Like ya know, the one that like 99.9% of people pass? So I’ve been going around collecting hugs instead of Pokemon. Gym leaders each give me a challenge to do so I can hug their Pokemon, and today I did the final gym, Drayden’s. His was pretty simple: slay three dragons. More specifically, beat his three dragon type Pokemon in battle. So that’s what I was doing! I’m gonna be like really dramatic about it cuz that’s fun, but I promise I’m not making anything up. This is Jace Embrace letting you in to see his (very large sized) heart. Aaaanyways, without further ado, here’s the story of how I beat Drayden!

So it all started with a waiver. Standard stuff really, most of the time the stuff I do for fun is really dangerous, so you gotta sign away your right to like do stuff if you get hurt and stuff, but this one was like… way different. The agreement that the other person is trying to hurt you kinda makes it go to a whole nother level. I’d prefer if I didn’t die, after all, but also if I go out fighting a dragon type in my knight outfit, I guess that’d be a pretty fun way to go. This waiver was like at least 30 pages longer than all the other ones I’ve signed before. It’s that kinda anxiety I live for, the kind that makes me scared, the kind that makes me want to run away. Not running away is the best part. Standing my ground and telling myself I can do something even if my subconscious tells me I shouldn’t. Being the master of my own subconscious makes it all worth it. The only thing that brought me conscious resistance was the understanding that my friends, boyfriend, and Frank (A love variant Solosis I created on accident/on purpose) would miss me if I were gone. But I think just like people who go climbing and caving, they accepted that my hobby was dangerous, and supported me despite that baggage. Honestly… I can’t thank them enough for that. It’s been nice to have that off my shoulders, even if there was a time where it dragged me down so much I almost turned into someone I hated. But all that’s behind me by a lot now, I’m a new man (new femboy? Is that a saying people use?) now, and I couldn’t love myself more. Rough around the edges a bit, but hopefully that changes. I’m pretty damn hopeful it will, especially after the events of this story. Oh shit I got off track again, so I signed that waiver. It's so ironic that I feel the most alive when I put my life on the line, but I’ve found happiness in it.

The countdown rushed by, Drayden sent out his Fraxure first, I guess he was doing this gym leader style. I felt pretty confident about this, which for reasons I’ll get into later, was stupid. But that’s ok, stupid isn’t a dealbreaker, just an issue to work around. So I charged into combat, and of course this did not go super well. I am a human. Humans don’t have super special magic powers, they have super normal mundane powers, like calculus. I don’t know calculus and even if I did I don’t think it’d help me fight a dragon type. Anyways, I started getting my ass absolutely kicked, like so hard, like it hurt a lot. I tried to like… unlock my inner anime self, but obviously that doesn’t exist in real life so I kinda just looked like a dude shouting at a Fraxure while getting his ass beat first. Drayden wasn’t even giving commands, just sorta letting it fight like a Pokemon in the wild. I ended up getting knocked to the ground several times. 

Drayden honestly trains his Pokemon well, the rule was that I wasn’t allowed to faint, otherwise I’d lose the battle. Kinda like a normal Pokemon battle. He definitely trained it well cause I didn’t die, and it was definitely being soft. I think the goal was to get me to quit. After a few minutes of getting roughed up, I stumbled back, clutching my sword arm, which had been heavily wounded in the process. My sword was all the way across the room, and between it and me was the Fraxure. For the first time in the whole fight, Drayden barked out a command.

“Finish him. Dragon Tail.” There was nothing I could do. Simply put. It was faster than me, stronger than me, it had more stamina than me, even my tiny-ass brain could put that together. I was fucked. I didn’t run though. I never run. I stood my ground, holding up both arms, gritting my teeth as the movement brought stabs of pain to me. What was coming for me would hurt, I knew that, so I braced for that pain. As the Fraxure charged me at full speed, I heard a voice, but not with my ears, with my brain. It spoke loudly, with a deep and monotone voice, almost like a robot. “{Anomaly. On. Your. Six.}”

Before I could even look behind me, there was a burst of force I felt on my back. Not enough to move me, but enough to feel it. The Fraxure in front of me seemed to hit an invisible wall inches before its attack made contact, dropping to the ground, fainted. I gasped, shocked that I was still conscious. As I looked behind myself, Drayden returned his Fraxure to his pokeball. Behind me was a rather large Sigilyph, its patterns looked strange, its markings having much more complexity than what I was used to seeing on my adventures. Yet… it looked familiar to me. “{Anomaly I am… rather I was… the Keeper. I sense you do not recognize me. It has been 8 months since I last met with you face to face. I now wish to fight alongside you. I await a new purpose. To fight alongside you like the knights and Sigilyph of old. Let me aid you in combat. Now, and until we part.}” Not gonna lie. I kinda cried a lot. But I had to keep fighting. I ran up and hugged it, gasping in pain of course, my right arm was still injured. After a short hug, I stepped back. Suddenly, the Sigilyph’s eye began to glow a soft purple as I felt the pain in my arm fade away. It was definitely still wounded, I still couldn’t move it right, but at least it didn’t hurt. I looked behind me, back at Drayden. He gave me a smile under his white beard. What a GILF. I still don’t know if he knew this would happen, oh well.

Drayden threw out his second pokeball, letting out a hearty chuckle as a Druddigon appeared. I figured I should give a name to my first ever pokemon “I guess this is where the real battle starts. I’m gonna start calling you Squire, is that ok?” the Sigilyph responded “{Your wish is my command. You are right handed. For now, you will be left handed. Fight with your left arm as your right is wounded.}” Its eye began to glow again, and I could feel a weird sensation in my hands and head. Squire didn’t explain until later that handedness is determined by both genetics and the way the brain develops. He couldn’t change the way my body was genetically routed, but he could subtly rewrite my mind to make me temporarily ambidextrous, turning all my (admittedly low) sword muscle memory into muscle memory for a mirrored stance. I don’t quite understand it all, but I understand it enough to know it works. This weird feeling didn’t last long, and I was quickly snapped out of it by Drayden giving a command to his Druddigon.

“Druddigon, Revenge.” He ordered the pokemon, which caused it to charge me with brutal intent. From Squire, I once again heard his voice in my head “{Anomaly, I am casting the protective seal of reflection and the protective screen of light.}” Its patterns began to glow and shake, and two different translucent layers of energy surrounded me, as if to serve as a miniature forcefield clinging to my skin. I took up a defensive stance, knowing I still couldn’t dodge this attack either. It hit me with an all things considered quite forceful shoulder check, and I was sent flying across the battle arena. We weren’t using the two dragons for obvious reasons, so instead we were using a flat arena so I didn’t accidentally fall to my death. As I flew, I realized something. I wasn’t actually hurt all too bad. None of me felt broken, just a few cuts here and there. Time seemed to slow down as my mind was driven into overdrive. I heard Squire’s voice in my head once more. “{I have taken the liberty of temporarily increasing the speed at which your brain functions. I will also cast the seal of the tailwind to allow you to move faster so your body moves at the speed your mind thinks. This is how the knights of Relic Castle once fought. Fight with bravery and purity of heart. I will serve as your spotter.}”

My movement sped up once more as it beat its wings, causing a magical wind to press my body to move faster, catching up with my sped up mind. I was able to grab ahold of one of the rafters of the arena, slowing the impact and hanging from above. “Follow him, Night Slash” Drayden shouted at his Druddigon, which flapped its wings and began pursuit. It would normally be way faster than me, but with Squires assistance, I now fought with it on an even playing field. I still needed my sword, and I knew just how I’d get to it.

As the Druddigon flew into the air, I swung myself down from the rafters, landing feet first on its head, moving far faster than it expected. Its guard wasn’t up yet, so I was able to kick it in the snout with both my metal armored boots. Using its face as a springboard, I jumped off of it in the direction of my sword, the Tailwind carrying me until I was very close. I ran up and as I leaned down to snatch the sword, I felt a subtle suggestion in the back of my mind telling me to do a flip. So I did a flip, grabbing the sword in my left hand as I did. I’m glad I heeded the advice of the suggestion, since doing the flip allowed me to see what was behind me: a full speed charging Druddigon with a claw wrapped in darkness aimed directly at me.

In midair I raised my sword to parry the claw, in a movement the felt familiar but I knew I had never used. It was around this point I realized Squire wasn’t just watching me, he was helping me, teaching me moves on the spot I had never learned, giving me muscle memory that I’d never had before. The human body was versatile, I had never really thought about it much, but with Squire’s help covering for my statistical weaknesses I was able to employ these techniques, techniques used by knights of old, stored in the Sigilyph’s memory to help people like me fight. No wonder he followed me for so long. I had accidentally unearthed an ancient tradition that he was purpose-built to serve. His mental assistance was clearing up the brain fog that my ADHD caused, making it easier to enter the flow state. I could think clearer, coming to these realizations in the split seconds before the Druddigon struck at me. My sword parried the blow effortlessly, transferring the energy of the slash into the ground instead of my face, causing the Druddigon to let out a roar as it smashed its claw on the metal ground, making sparks fly.

“Dragon Tail.” Drayden barked orders at the Druddigon as I looked down at my sword. I was expecting the sword to be heavily damaged, but whatever protective barrier that Squire applied to me also had enveloped the sword, also strengthening its durability. Before the Druddigon could begin his attack, I began mine. I charged it with the tip of my sword pointed at it, unleashing a flurry of whirling slashes and stabs. From here on, I fell into a rhythm, my body almost moving on its own as I fought with my mind in tandem with Squire, using both its view and my view, a third person view and a first person view, an experienced mind and a brave mind. The Druddigon had thick hide that allowed it to shrug off most attacks, but by aiming for weak points and getting it to slam into walls, I eventually brought it down. 

Drayden sent out his final Pokemon, his Haxorous. This was his ace, I did do a little bit of research before the fight (watching one mewtube video that I fell asleep right before the midway point of), but Squire was bringing the knowledge of that video that I had passively absorbed to the forefront of my mind. I knew he would try to have it set up with Dragon Dance, then strike at me with Dragon Tail until it won. I could win if I didn’t allow it space to set up, so that’s exactly what I did.

The rest of the fight was a blur as I sunk into tactics, once again entering a trancelike state as I was assisted by Squire. Before I fully realized what was going on, I brought the Haxorus to the ground, finishing the fight by smashing the pommel of my sword into its head hard enough to knock it out. By now my sword, despite its increased durability, was heavily damaged, so I quickly sheathed it and bowed to Drayden in true fashionable Jace style. “Good fight! I had a lot of fu- oop…” I said as I suddenly felt all the strength drain from my body, causing me to fall to the ground. “{As a downside to increasing your speed and mental capacity… battles such as these will be very physically taxing on your mind and body. A good night’s rest will do you good, but for now just sit and take a breather.}” 

I laid there for a few minutes as Drayden approached me, withdrawing his Haxorus. Once I felt I was physically able, I sat up and reached a hand towards Drayden, which he knelt down to shake before picking me up like a baby and taking me to a bench for me to sit down on. “You fought well.” His normally ever-present glare had softened a bit, making him seem almost like a grandfather. “I will allow you to hug my Pokemon now, and I will grant you this badge. It’s not the normal badge we give, you will have to return and fight me in a Pokemon vs. Pokemon battle for that, but it is a badge. The Opelucid badge of honor. I don’t normally give these out to just any person who enters my gym, but you have shown outstanding courage, determination, and most importantly of all, kindness. You’ve made friends along the way in your journey and fostered relationships that will last you a lifetime should you cultivate them with great care. Your optimistic personality is admirable as well, for you shine as a light in other people’s darkness, although you might want to make sure that your light is not blinding, even legends have flaws and I urge you to keep that in mind as you continue your journey across Unova. Lastly… I’ll get to my point in all this. You have two Pokemon that would call you their master if you had the means to have them join your party. One of them is here, the other you have sent off to stay with someone else. Both of these could only exist in the way they do because of your love. I believe if you were allowed to raise them, you would do so far better than most trainers. I cannot change the current establishment to allow for people like you to prove yourselves, but I do intend to fund a project for people like you who struggled in school to get the help they need. Your story has taught me something valuable: sometimes all someone needs to be great is a little help here and there. I’m going to appeal to the league and ask that they give you a two month temporary license. I trust during this time you will study hard for your next exam. I believe in your ability to succeed this time. Keep your head held high Jace, I hope that one day you surpass me in strength.”

The rest of the day was a blur. There’s plans for me to get a whole ceremony celebrating my accomplishments and stuff. I won’t complain but I think it’s a bit much for little ol me… I plan to study hard like Drayden said. Squire has already agreed to help me, and I have convinced him to start calling me “Jace” or “Knight” instead of “Anomaly” so that’s cool. I look forward to my future. I might’ve failed my trainers license exam 9 times in a row, but I wasn’t built different back then. When I was on the journey back to the hotel room I was staying in with my boyfriend, we were talking about the trainer license exam. The conversation went a little something like this:

“Do you think you can learn enough to pass in two months? It’s been a while since you’ve been to school.”

“If I were to take the whole exam in one sitting… it might be a little tough.”

“Would you fail?”

“Nah, I’d pass.”

[knoxs2nd]

i've been thinking about shannon/kanon, and how their characters reflect yasu's conflicting viewpoints toward the idea of change, and how those, in turn, reflect her different responses to her trauma

yasu's childhood dreams were always about how change would be for the better: she could change her personality and become the perfect maid (shannon), and be loved by everyone. after falling in love, change means being rescued by battler, so that she could escape her predicament. there's even "magic", a type of change of your worldview: escapism through fiction and your own fantasies, for fun, comfort, and emotional relief.

at some point, though, even the hope that change is coming, that change is imminent, that change will alleviate all the suffering she's gone through, makes things come to a breaking point. she can only wait for things to change for so long, with hope and magic keeping her afloat - her present anguish, her implied suicidality, can't continue to be ignored.

so, along comes kanon. a part of yasu that isn't focused on the future and what's to come. kanon is a part of yasu that rejects change, is forced to accept living in the present. that's why he's allowed to be free with his feelings: bitter, angry, discontent, misanthropic. feelings yasu hadn't allowed herself to revel in, because they didn't have a place in the happy futures and dreams she waited for. ironically, the part of her who decides to stop hoping for change, who is and will always be furniture, who accepts his predicament and the shit hand he was dealt and won't hope for anything more, also helps her feel free. she's a survivor: she can exist, on her own, without relying on other people's love, and she can be...fine. there's a kind of strength in that.

that's why yasu needs both of them. the part of her who wishes to escape, who dreams about a happier future, who tries to act as the person she wishes she could become...and the part of her who can live through the present, who's unhappy, angry, and bitter, but will survive, damn it.

[wherethedeadneversleep]

Is That My Shirt?

Featured couple: Paul & Sonya

“Are you wearing my shirt? it looks good on you.”

Sonya had always carried a deep-seated resentment towards men and vampires alike, stemming from a series of painful experiences that had left her scarred and wary. Even the man she was bound to filled her with an overwhelming sense of suffocation. But fate had an ironic way of playing its hand. Paul who she was inexplicably drawn to, possessed qualities that defied her preconceived notions.

With Paul, she felt liberated from the constraints of her own inhibitions. He unraveled her deepest fantasies and awakened a side of her she never knew existed. Their encounters were not just physical; they transcended the boundaries of mere lust. They delved into realms of emotional intimacy, where vulnerability and trust intertwined.

But she had to be careful with these encounters. She had to use a lot of magic to cloak them from the eyes of Hades. As the bride/slave of Hades himself, Sonya knew all too well the wrath and possessiveness he held over her. He was known for his vengeful nature and relentless pursuit of those who dared to cross him. If he discovered her secret meetings with Paul, there would be dire consequences.

Rolling over on the bed her lips curved into a smile. " It's not the only thing that looks good on me. " Her brow raised as she rolled over on the bed now resting on her back - head propped against a pillow. " You really do enjoy playing with fire, don't you? "

With his long body stretched out beside Sonya, Paul her flashed his own smile. The smell of sex still lingered heavy in the air, as he reached over, and playfully flicked a loose strand of hair away from her neck.

"I like fire," he coyly replied, as the tips of his fingers then slid along the generous mounds of her breasts. Eager digits stroked her nipples through the thin fabric of the shirt, until they became perfectly taut.

"Okay, for sure, the shirt looks way better on you than it does me. But... I'm thinking it's gonna look perfect in a... different way in a few minutes."

The hungry, predatory gaze in his blue eyes took on a wild glow, as Paul crawled over, until he was on top of her, twisting the bedsheets around his waist while doing so. Sonya deserved better than that piece of shit she had problems with. Paul was more than happy to make her feel good in any way possible. He wasn't sure how far the two of them would get in the beginning, but as luck would have it, he managed to convince her that not all vampires were worth killing. From being casual friends-with-benefits to something more, Paul was beyond satisfied with his relationship with Sonya.

His body ached for her. It was impossible not too--with the sharp curves she rocked, and the tattoos on her pale skin, she was a total rock star vixen. Her wicked beauty enticed everyone who stared at her, but he was the one who had the pleasure in having her all to himself.

With his cock already hard, he leaned forward, and pushed his shirt up and over her tits. Bending his head, he licked and sucked on her nipples. He lavished her taste, as his tongue swirled and suckled on her buds, while the tip of his manhood brushed and teased the slit of her entrance. It was far from the first time they've fucked that night, but every time he entered her, he couldn't help but feel like melting. She felt so damn good every single time. Paul normally wasn't the type to do any foreplay; that was only reserved for special ones like Sonya. It said a lot for the likes of him, who generally didn't like to get attached when it came to relationships.

She couldn't deny the rush of excitement that coursed through her veins as he brushed her hair aside, revealing the vulnerable curve of her neck. It was a simple gesture, yet it held a magnetic power over her. But deep down, she knew the truth - her blood held a lethal secret, a poison that would bring him nothing but agony. Her blood possessed a venomous power that could bring him to his knees, weakening him with each drop that entered his system. It was a cruel twist of fate, their forbidden romance bound by an invisible barrier.  She yearned for the taste of his immortal kiss, to feel the sharp sting of his fangs against her skin. 

" Fire and Ice, who would have thought? " She closes her eyes, surrendering to the intoxicating sensation that courses through her veins. Every nerve ending comes alive under his skilled touch. As his touch lingers, she can't help but yearn for more. The ache deepens, now finding herself lost in the labyrinth of sensations that he evokes within her.

Until him, she never knew what it felt like to have someone's touch be electrifying. Before it had felt like a task a duty that she couldn't wait to end, but not with Paul. With him she never wanted it to end.

She bit the corner of her lips when he crawled on top of her. That predatory look in his eyes reminded her of the first time he had kissed her. Memories of their first encounter flooded her mind, replaying like a vivid movie reel. It was a stormy night, rain pouring down in torrents as they sought shelter under the awning of a deserted building. At that moment, he had captured her attention with his enigmatic charm and mischievous smile. Their lips had met tentatively at first but soon ignited into an inferno of passion.

She couldn't help but rake her nails roughly across his back when his tongue staked across her already sensitive nipples. The overwhelming heat amplified between her legs as she rocked her hips upward feeling how hard he already was. A soft moan of his name falls from her lips. " Paul .. "

She's impatient and can't wait another second to have him inside her. Hips angle just right putting him where she needs him. The moment he starts penetrating her head melts back into the pillow with a breathy moan. His thick length forced her body open, every one of her nerves alight and tingling. A single hand moves to the back of his neck as her eyes reopen and lock with his. She could feel the overwhelming throb of his cock inside her. " I need you now. "

He let out a hiss when her nails raked his back, causing the surface of his skin to become inflamed. Any time she left marks on his body, he loved to show them off like battle scars. It only made his hunger for her intense and undeniable. The way she called his name was like a siren to a sailor in the sea - but unlike being lured to his death, he was coming home to sweet paradise. Her wet, swollen heat was more than ready to take him one more time.

When she angled herself in the perfect position, he moved in with one, hard thrust. For a brief moment, he was still, only to enjoy how perfectly their bodies fit one another. Yet patience was not among his best qualities.

Now face to face, and nose to nose, he ground his hips against hers, moving back and forth, pounding her hard, with the sound of flesh slapping all around the room. The look of hot desire was unquestionable in his eyes. While Paul didn't need to breathe, it was out of habit for him to do so. The labored motions of his chest rising and falling were practiced, as he had only been turned into a vampire not even a decade ago.

The memories of being human still remained, and he'd had plenty of sexual partners as a human and vampire, both male and female. But no partner could tug and claw at his attention the way Sonya had. She stirred emotions within him that he didn't believe were possible to have until they became as close as they did.

"Fuck, you're mine," he groaned," as he tightened his grip over her hips, and moved his long, hard cock harder, faster, and deeper into the welcoming heaven between her thighs. Dipping his head once more, he captured her lips, kissing her, tasting the passion they shared for one another.

Her mouth gaped open as he plunged inside, the stretch just intense enough to heighten her pleasure. Stars begin to dance behind her eyes as she adjusts to his size once more. He's big, firm, and unyielding, so she holds to him as if her life depended on it.

Eyes focus, the danger of having a predator perched above her is just exhilarating. As his pace suddenly quickens her moans come from the snap of his hips, it's brutal pleasure. The vampire above her is ravaging her body and she can't get enough. He's fucking her so hard and deep, so good, that her nails dig into the flesh of his back threatening to draw blood. Nothing ever felt as good as the now engorged flesh at her core.

With each grind of his hips, hers met his with equal intensity. Her breaths come out in uncontrolled pants, her body writhing and bending just for him. She can feel the hot rush of her own blood, every vein and artery in her body. It pulses with each beat of her heart. Her whole body is on fire but all she can think about is the way he hits bottom with each snap of those hips. Her eyes never closed until the moment he moaned out claiming her as his own. For once she wasn't sickened by those very words, in fact, they nearly threw her over the edge. As their lips crashed together both her hands moved from his back and slid to his hips - fingers latching tightly.

He felt so good, as he always did, the strong pulsations of bliss building way too quickly. Her conflicted cries echoed through the room, interrupted only by Paul's loud grunts of effort. She draws back from the kiss to bury her face into his shoulder as she trembles trying to hold back and will away her desire to give in so quickly. Despite not having fangs it doesn't stop her from biting down on his shoulder to try and stifle her moans.

Paul uttered a ragged cry in response. She had quite the powerful bite, but it was actually quite the turn on for him - a kink he hadn't been aware of having until now. His frenzied pace overpowered hers. Sweat and gasps mingled with wild abandon. This hot, reckless haze was a moment in time he wouldn't mind spending hours in with her. It was absolute, sheer bliss.

His blue eyes flashed a look of sheer, desperate need. No other partner ever made him feel so much emotion like Sonya did. The overwhelming sensations, the intensity, the energy, the heat - it was all because of her. There was no way he could have anybody else but her. She was his live wire.

The surging, raging, raw animalistic need blazed through him like fire. Fingers threaded through her flaming red hair. He clung to her as if his very life depended on it. The mattress beneath them creaked angrily, as the headboard slammed into the wall.

He ground his hips against hers, slammed into her over and over again, and until finally, he came undone. Even as he spilled himself inside her, he didn't pull out. He wanted to fill her to the brim because there was no way he could ever quit desiring her. He was completely and shamelessly addicted to her.

Goosebumps erupted behind her neck and traveled down her spine. She was covered in sweat now, they both were and she was about to break. God his lips, his mouth, all over her, licking and sucking hard, and it felt so good... it made her dizzy and weak. She sunk her nails into his shoulders and it did nothing but spur him on harder, faster; like her heartbeat in her ears, pounding with no relief. He took her to the moon and back and she’d followed willingly, feeling every sensation tenfold, intense and earth-shattering, screaming out loud until they both came together simultaneously.

Her trembling body withered beneath him. She fought to catch her breath, her eyes briefly fluttering closed. As he held her tightly, she could feel the warmth of his embrace enveloping her. The only moments when she truly felt alive were these. when she was with him and he was inside her. She cherished these intimate moments, where their bodies intertwined and their souls connected. In his arms, she found solace from the chaos of the world, a sanctuary where time stood still. The intensity of their love was palpable as if every touch and every whisper carried the weight of a thousand emotions. Together, they created a world of their own, where passion and desire reigned supreme.  

When she finally opened her eyes, she discovered herself gazing deeply into his captivating eyes. Her fingers were now delicately caressing the skin on the nape of his neck. " Lie to me and tell me I don't have to go back. " She wanted to hear him say those words even if she knew it was impossible for her to stay. As she continued to stroke his neck, a wave of longing washed over her. The desire to escape reality and remain in his embrace grew stronger with each passing moment. She yearned for him to reassure her, to make her believe that they could defy all odds and be together forever. 

Her hand gently withdrew from his neck, finding solace at the side of his face, where her thumb delicately caressed his lips. How she loved the taste of those lips and how amazing they felt against her skin. As she continued to caress his lips, a rush of memories flooded her mind. She remembered the first time they had kissed, the electric spark that had ignited between them. It was a moment that had changed everything. The softness of his lips against hers had always been a source of comfort and passion, a reminder of the intense bond they shared. With each gentle stroke of her thumb, she felt a wave of warmth and affection wash over her, reaffirming the depth of her feelings for him.

"Mmm," he hummed as he playfully licked her tongue when it came to touch his mouth. The saltiness of her sweat remained, and he couldn't resist tracing invisible patters along her upper arm, as their bodies gradually settled down. He welcomed her sensual touches, while his eyes remained firmly locked with hers. She asked him to lie, and that was exactly what he'd do for her.

"'Course you're not going anywhere. We're gonna crash right here, babe. We sleep all day, and party all night! That's our motto, y'know."

What Paul wouldn't give to have her as one of them - a member of the group. He wanted to tell David and the others all about her, and what she had to offer, but he couldn't risk getting her into trouble. After everything they've done together so far to keep her hidden from Hades, one mistake to cost them everything. And knowing she was a vampire hunter of all things, well, they'd cross that bridge whenever they'd get there. For now, he just wanted to relax with her in her warmth.

Hands roamed along her body, again, taking in her sensual curves. They remained joined, as his lips traced kisses along her neck and shoulder. Occasionally he'd rock his hips against hers, while his fingers caressed her breasts or teased her nipples. Paul just could never get enough of her. He was one hundred percent addicted to her.

"Man, I'm so high on you," he mumbled, half joking, half serious. He bent down and sensually sucked on her bottom lip, until he kissed her once more, but slowly. "Baby, it's gonna be alright, you hear me? S'gonna be okay."

Their bodies still entwined, Sonya couldn't help but smile at Paul's words, her eyes filled with gratitude. She knew that things might not be easy for them, but she also knew that they had each other. And as long as they had each other, they would face whatever came their way together. For a moment, she closed her eyes, savoring the feel of his touch.

She knew staying here all night would have it’s consequences, but it was something she was willing to endure if it meant being here in Paul’s arms. " I'm okay, " She whispered reassuringly, running her fingers through his hair. " I trust you, Paul. You know that, right ? " He might literally be the only person she trusted. She couldn't help but feel grateful for every moment they shared.

Their bodies were still entwined, and she could feel the warmth of his skin against hers. The scent of their lovemaking still hung between them, a reminder of the intensity of their passion. She hated those moments when she would blank out on him, it was only because so much was going through her mind. It was almost a constant that she was thinking of away to free herself from Hades and yet still be able to protect not only herself but her vampire lover. There’s nothing she wouldn’t do to keep him safe, to keep him all to herself.

But one thing she could always count on was Paul’s ability to bring her back to the here and now with the way his hands traced every curve of her body. The way his mouth lingered on the sensitive skin of her neck, his breath warm against her cooling skin.

She was safe here with Paul, and the world outside felt almost irrelevant. They were their own bubble, their own world. And in this world, they had each other and that was all that mattered. She shuddered at his words, her heart swelling with so much trust. " Maybe not today and not even tomorrow, but you’re right. It’s all going to work out in the end. " Her body was so relaxed now, all the tension seemed to have melted away.

"Just keep thinking positive," Paul said in a low, relaxed voice. His eyes were half-way shut, and while it was far from sunrise, he wouldn't mind taking a nap with Sonya in his arms. The world felt absolutely right when they were together like this.

His fingers rubbed against her arm, enjoying the way she felt against him. He could do this all night and not get bored. Though he told her to think positive, the thought of her having to return to Hades, and have that asshole touch her made his blood boil. Yet what chance did he, a regular vampire, have against a freaking god of the underworld? It was like comparing a pebble against an entire planet.

"Let's just stay here," he mumbled. He squeezed her body against his, hugging her tight. He didn't have to say "until it was time for her to go." She already knew.

There was always next time.

[theuniverseawakens347]

FUCK ASS RETARD CON ARTIST VIVICCA A WHITSETT // ERYKA BADU UGLY INCEST TWINS

SHE MY “adoptive god mom” THIS LIFE TIME ANYWAYS THIS DUMMY RIGHT HERE AND CHRISTINA SIMOS ( sister IVF/ INVITRO) OWE CLIVE DAVIS W FUCKTARD LEE GARLINGTON AND JASON George ( Shayne Murphy and eryka badu child 🥚🏊🏾‍♂️)

ANYWAYS DONT CARE WHO BELONG TO WHO YAL GON FIGURE THAT OUR URSELVES IM NOT DOING EVERYTHING FOR YOU LAZY SHIT FUCKS.

But THIS BITCH AND BADU THE RING LEADERS TO THE DRUGGING PIMPING AND CPN / OTHER FRAUD GOING ON IN THE “free Mason “ COMMUNITY. AT BEYONCE .. JAYZ .. DIDDY STYLE .. as you go HIGHER INTO THE TIERS YOU GET MORE “perks” BUT YOU GOTTA DO SOME FUCK ASS LOW BALL SHIT ,

And ALL YOU WHO SIGN UP BECOME A SLAVE TO THE LEE GARLINGTON CLIVE DAVIS KRIS JENNER FAMILY SEED KLAN LIKE TRISTAN THOMPASON AND KHLOE CHILD OF OJ .. ROB LEFT KRIS BC NICOLE TRIAL WHO DIDNOR DIDNT DO IT,

HE DID IT. 🤷🏽‍♀️🖕🏽

KRIS STOOD BY HIM AND WAS PREGNANT AT THE TIME, ROB FOUND OUT AND DIVORCED HER ON THAT BACK END OR WAS TRYING TO BUT OJ FOUND OUT AND KRIS WANTED TO KEEP HIS $$$ AND RECORD COMPANY SO THEY SHOT ROB WHEN HE DIED BUT NEWS SAY CANCER ..

YOU ARE INCUBABYS YOU AINT COME OUT THE WOMB FORREAL, YOU CAME OUT A TEAT TUBE THE BABY THAT WAS IN THE ATOMACH GET RETURNED BACK TO THE HOMELANDS .. as I’m calling it ..

THE OUTSKIRTS OF THE “DOME” ..

And ways YA MOMS PUSH ONE OUT, and the doctor hands her a “genetically modified version” HAS ME OR MY ORGINAL BLOOD LINE IN IT SO THAT THEIR KLAN AT KEVIN SPACEY READING RN CAN ATTEST WILL KEEP A TRACC RECORD OF “slaves” GIRLS AND BOYS THEY PUT INTO THE INDIATRY TO BE TRAFFIC / PURPOSELY PREGNANT BY INCEST WILLINGLY OR WEIRDO SHIT,

Basically wanting RHEIR OWN “spiritually” CONNECTED BABIES TO USE TO CONTROL THE POPULATION MKULTRA FORM BY “voodoo” / “hoodoo” .. WITCH MAGIC LIKE SALEM WITCH TRIAL SHIT MIXED W PAGONISM..

Fuck the spelling,

SINCE YOURE A SLAVE YOU HAVE TO MY PROGRAM FOLLOW THE SIMULATION.. A FEW OF YOU GOT LICKY AND WERE LET FREE MEANING LEGIT CAME OUT THE COOCHIE NO SWITXHS BUT YOU WILLINGLY OR YOUR PARENTS HALLE X DDG SOLD YA BABY AND UR SOUL AT SOME POINTNTO GIVE UP FIRST BORN AS PAYMENT IE SNOOP / CORDELL / CORDE / CORRI / Julian = payment for record labels ..

ANYWAYS.. THE LKAN FROM THE FIRST PARAGRAPH STARTED THE SWITCH AROUND MEDOTH BC THEY WERE BROKE AND NEEDED TO OAY BACK CLICE FOR ACTUAL HEROIN METH AND WEED THEY STOLE .. IRONICALLY OFF MY DADDY THE ROCK ( POT) THAT OTHER SHIT IS THE WEIRD WHITE MAN VICTOR GARLINGTON WW2 MKULTRA MIND CONTROL UNDER A DEADLY WEAPON OF DRUGS TACTIC ..

Skipping pieces , cause FIGURE OUT YOUR OWN FUCKING SHIT IM SO TIRED OF YOU FUCKTARDS FUCKING W ME N ME HAVING TO FIGURE IT OUT MY FUCKING SELF. FAILED ME ON THAT DEPARTMENT OF “coming out” but I digress..

ANYWAYS THESE MOFOS RETURNED THE MONEY BUT FOUND FUN IN BEING SICK SINISTER BASTARDS WHILE THE QUEEN ME WAS ASLEEP AND TOOK ADVANTAGE OF MY FAMILY IN ALL PHYSICAL PLAINS ..

AND THEN PINNING THEIR FUCKED UP INCEST AND DRUG DEATH CRIMES ON MY FAMILY NAME TO EXONERATE THEIR OWN .. YOU YOUNGING STILL FALLING TRAPPED TO THE MKULTRA MIND CONTROL ENSLAVEMENT CAMP ..

NO LONGER IS IT INCUBABY “pick your child” IT LITERAL KIDDIE PORN AT JERRY FROM SUBWAY style,

THEN AS YOU GET OLDER YOU BITXHES LAUREN LONDON SOLD A LIFESTYLE OF LAVISH DREAMS TO SET UP NIGGAS TO “die” FOR A “become THE first millionaire in your family” BULLSHIT.

Knives out type beat, and MAFIA .. games sets ..THEN YAL NIGGAS SELLING NUDES AND WHATEVER ELSE OFF THE ORIGINAL BLOOD / CREATION OF ME N MY HUSBAND.. WHICH IS WHY WE ALL TO A DEGREE LOOK ALIKE..

“HAPPY HUNTINGZ” FIND YA CLONE vs THE REAL ONE..

FOUND ME N MY HUSBAND,

BUT FUCKTARDS DONT WANA MAKE RIGHT AND TELL ME WHATS UP, SO HERE WE ARE WAITING FOR THAT TO HAPPEN SO THE TIME LINE CAN BE RESTORED BACK TO FUCKING PEACE .. BUT THE LONGER I SIT AND GET ANGERY LEE KNOWS MY DADS ARE GOING TO KILL .. but she afraid cause she and her KLAN DAVID SPADE ALREADY ADMITTED THE FUCK AHIT OF MY COOCHIE PICS + BASEL SHADFAN THE KILLING SUSU “ money heist” POT ..

= FEDERAL FOR THISE WHO WILLING JOINED AND DID IT / vs JAIL TIME/ PURGATORY FOR THOSE WHO DISNT KNOW AND ADMIT FULLY THE PARTY THEY PLAYED in the never ending fucktard incest killing spree of VICTOR CHARLES MANSON ARLINGTON HOWARD NUGENT REGIME.

Like be soooo fucking frfr, CLEAN UP YOUR FUCKING PART. THIS SHIT IS IRRITATING. VIVICCA COME OUT AND OWN YOUR FUCKING PART MISS YOU LIVE IN A SHOE BOX FILTHY ASS APARTMENT , yo cats love me more, HEAD ASS BITXH. IDC ABOUT A FILTHY CAR IM IN IT RN CAUSE YOU DID THIS SAME WEIRDO SHIT TO MY MOTHER DARNYCE WALLACE RELLY LISA BONET .. ORIGINAL BLOOD YOU THEN DRUGGED AND SENT TO AQUAMAN WHEN I AWAKEN IN 2021 CAUSE SHE AWAKENED TO THE TRUTH TOO,

WHY YALL NIGGA KILLED MICHAEL AND WHITENEY AND PRINCE AND XXX AND NIP FIT BUT ITS SOOOO MUCH MORE THERE.. etc ANYONE WHO TALKS ABOUT THE MATRIX CAUSE THE QUEEN GOTTA WAKE UP, me.. AT BEYONCE ALREADY CAME OUT W CASSIE ABOUT THE TRUTH

Mans Clive’s end IS restoring my shit BUT THE REST OF YOU SMALL CIVILIANS UNDER LEE GARLINGTON AND MICHAEL HEIMOS AND ANDRE HEIMOS AND HOWARD NUGENT AND ANTHONY BARTON SHIT, an BEN AND TINA TICKNER

ANTI/ MASON / ILLUMINATI / KILL ADONDI CASHAY MONEY HEIST .. FUCKTARD AJA MILES FEDERAL AND DEPORTED .. IDR WHAT YOU CALL IT MAKE FUCKING RIGHT NO MORE MATEIX THERE WILL BE RESTORATION TO THE ORIGINAL SHITS .. like Futurama

AND IM TALKING MONSTER INC THEME BUT PLANET OD THE APES GET DOWN WAR IF YAL KEEP FUCKING TRYING ME IN THE STUPID ASS CAR.

Over IT over you OVER THE GAMES DONT CARE WHAT OTHER 🖕🏽 LEE GARLINGTON TYPE OF “movies” AT HUNGER GAMES YOU THREW IN THIS BITCH.

Like be so fucking frfr , the games are beyond childish and stupid and bitch grew up mentally and physically THIS time, YOU FUCKING NEED TO TOO,

“Miss none of this is real it fantasy”

THEN STOP CALLING ME FUCKING CRAZY WHEN I CAN READ YOUR FUCKING THOUGHTS AND REGRETS THEU MESSAGES.

AT CHRISTOPHER WHITE RAPING A DEAD BODY AND DAQUAN FILMING IT SAME W JANAE AND SHANNON T DOUGH IN THE HEAD AT CORREY C TOO .. AND SOLO? FINAO ..

ALL TELEPATHIC AND HOW A RIGHTFUL SCARY COUNTER PART THATS COMING FOR FUCKING W ME AT STICCY AT IAN 72nd N VERMONT CREW / AT WEST BLD JHENE AIKO / NEIGHBORHOOD.. DEATH ROW..ETC ORIGINAL BLOOD ON THE GROUND AND FROM THE SKIES,

GREEK / AFRICAN/ MYTHOLOGY AND ALIENS STAR TREK, ZENON w raven symone/ PLANET OF THE APES 2 .. acolytes..

LEE YOU AND YOUR FAMILY MATRIX TIME IS UP, NIGGAS IS WAITING ON YOU TO HAVE THE FUCKING CONVERSATION W ME AND FREE ALL MY FUCKING LOOKALIKES AND THEN SOME FROM FUCKING SLAVERY,

AT OBAMA TREVOR NOAH NOAH DECORSI DIGUSTED CAUSE YOU TOLD EVERYONE SOMETHING DIFFERENT AND WEIRD CAUSE YOU WANTED ME TO SEEM FUCKING CRAZY AND MENTALLY PHYSICALLY DIRTY AND YOU THE “GOOD” ONE TO KEEP SHIT GOING.

IN YOUR HEAD I AM YOU AND YOU ARE ME,

IN REALITY BITCH YOU JUST ANOTHER FUCKING CHARLES MANSON SCARED BITCH.

You’re 72 I’m 30.. like really my dude? TALK AND ATOP CALLING ME CRAZY BEFORE I LET “THE EAGERLY CRAZY HAVE YOU” 🙂🖕🏽🤷🏽‍♀️