#but im at work and im bored
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yeehaw, baby!
#if u know me u knew this was inevitable#kon el#conner kent#tim drake#timkon#im gonna ramble after the boring tags ok#dc comics#fanart#western au#superboy#OK !!!! ITS TIME#so kon. obvs is a cowboy here#definitely a bit of a magnet for trouble but not an outlaw#still not the sort of person the son of the drake family's supposed to be talking to but yk kon's gonna try anyway#on tims end it pretty much follows the same events as the comics bc if it aint broke dont fix it#<- in terms of the whole sneaking out at night to do his own secret detective work thing at least#i have a whole silly story for the rest of it but im not gonna get into it all here lmao#but yeah i love cowboys and actual cowboy history vv much so this probably wont be the last u see of this au ദ്ദി ˉ꒳ˉ )✧#for now this post's rlly just for goofing around with design ideas#my art
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I just wanna say bc I KNOW you're somewhere on tumblr, to the teenage girl who attended Take Your Kid To Work Day at an office building in Ontario, Canada circa 2013 and had a conversation with a middle aged woman in which you showed her your Black Veil Brides fanart and fanfics and ship content and told her about different fanfic tropes including a/b/o verse bc she happened to know who Panic! at The Disco and Fallout Boy were and thus you felt the need to show her your bandblr ship art, that was my fucking mother and I had to clarify all that to her including looking my mother in the eye and trying to explain a/b/o verse without sounding like a lunatic.
It's been 10 years and I still regularly sent evil energies in your direction. Since you'd be probably two years younger than me and thus legally an adult now, please know if this post reaches you it's on sight.
#she cornered me in the car and asked what shipping was and i almost had a fucking heart attack#imagine being like 16 years old and habing to explain knotting to your mother#random emo music girl I'm glad you had fun talking about your Band Guys to my mother#bc i also attended take your kid to work day at that office and i know how boring it was#but christ alive why did you have to fuck me like that?#anyways i hope this post reaches you so at the very least you know i think about you at least once a week#this has been weighing on me for ten years#im almost tempted to blaze this post
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i know that chilchuck saying there's not much interesting for him to say about his daughters and then saying, like, two sentences about each is Very In Character but what would have been funnier is if he was like. hm. it's not very interesting. and then smash cutting to, like, five hours later and he's still going on about them (marcille listens attentively with sparkly eyes. we've done it. we've found how to make him talk)
#mainly because every time I mert my dad at a bar whoever is sitti g next to him sees me and goes. ah. you must be the daughter#I Know Your Whole Life Story Now#yall im so boring. i work sleep and play video games or craft. there is Nothing Else about me!!!#WHAT IS HE TELLING PEOPLE#dungeon meshi#chilchuck
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#blurry buddie save me save me blurry buddie
#911 abc#911#911edit#911 fox#buddie#buddieedit#evan buckley#eddie diaz#my gifs#can you tell im bored and procrastinating working on my fic?
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after jasons death bruce "accidentally" slips harvey a crowbar while hes in arkham and kisses his cheek and says, voice soft and colder than ice, "make him hurt for me honey"
it takes 6 guards to sedate and drag two face off the joker the next time two face sees him and for the rest of their lives as soon as harvey sees the joker he goes after him like a rabid dog.
#harvey voice: you know why im not killing you jokes? cause you can only die once and i want to hurt you so much more than i want to kill you#jason was harveys baby too after all#spent my entire boring work meeting thinking about how robin!jason bruharvey would end in the joker dying no matter what bc of two face#this is all bruciemilfs fault btw. theyve been making me insane about bruharvey#bruce wayne#harvey dent#two face#also bruce doesnt tell harvey to kill or not kill the joker bc he cant request someones death#but he also cant make himself ask for his sons murderer to be spared#i dont think any version of bruce would be comfortable with openly planning someones death let alone actually doing it#but after jasons death he gets so cold and numb to everything that he just turns away from it#he knows hes being too violent.knows hes hurting people too much but the only time hes not remembering how small jasons body was in his arms#is when his blood is roaring in his ears during a fight. maybe if he becomes the worst monster in gothams shadows#no more little boys will go cold and silent. no more fathers will stand in the doorway of rooms that will never be full again
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its just supervised phone calls like
in the wise words of stan himself: give me money
#gravity falls#art#stan pines#ford pines#im vaguely proud of how long this is and how fast it came out but. ugh the framing is so boring#book of bill#new drawing alert#artists on tumblr#i GOTTA work on pacing for these things. holy shit dude#but whatever the endurance test was good ig#the guys came out decent despite me not drawing them since 2017#editing to be less self deprecating lol also this idea barely makes sense. oh well
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〔00〕 — 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌 : perfect perception
DIRECTORY: concept, chapter 00, chapter 01
it was always just you, and your family.
just you, your mother, twin brother, and grandfather. the puzzle is complete, there is no need for an extra couple of pieces to add on to your already satiated life. there is no need to work hard, or to endure painful endeavors to attain what you want; not when your family would complete it all for you.
it wasn't like you could, or should, complain, no? you have everything granted to you from when you were born. scarred hands, jagged figure, weary eyes; those aren't necessary for a person like you, who will always be sheltered, in both cozy blankets and loving arms. oblivious to the cruel world and pesting hands that claw on innocent beings like you.
a steady house life, a mother who shielded your innocence from all the bloodshed within the family's ordeals, who read to you fairytales, who had you sleep in her bed when you feared, when you foresaw what you thought were monsters under your bed. instead of inhibiting hatred for an heir who'd flinch at raising hands and the sound of clanging swords, she encouraged your meak demeanor and even spoiled tantrums. she runs her hands across your silky tresses, and kisses your forehead a thousand times if you'd even mention it in a passing moment. she dresses you in jewels, in velvety, silky clothes, and bathes you in toys and gifts you never seem to ask for. your little body sleeps on her chest, and listen the steady beat of her heart, calm and beating, all for you.
you teach her softness, and the joys of being a mother. a concept foreign in her eyes, raised opposite to you. she sees herself in you, and projects what should've been her childhood to her youngest twin child.
you have a twin brother, who, despite being born only a few minutes before you, was significantly older than you, both mentally and spiritually. from the moment he was taken into the world, his duty to take all your pain away and to become your very light was established. and like the warrior he is, he takes that daunting task and transforms it into motivation. he is your knight in shining armor, the prince who catches you when you fall, the one who braves your nightmares, the swordman to your royalty. he trains, all day and night, from such a young age to protect you from unnecessary dangers he understood even his mother fears you'd be subjected to. he does not complain, he does not find reasons to gripe; he takes the scars, the bruises, the punishments and missions all in stride. if it meant seeing you happy and unaware from all the cruelty of living; then so be it. as long as, by the end of the day, he comes back to your shared room to find your tiny form drawing a childish imagery of the little family you love and cherish.
you teach him compassion, vulnerability, and share with him the admiration for arts.
then there is your grandfather. a hardened leader, a monster to all those who serve, but an idol in the eyes of oblivious you. he justifies violence in the wake of achieving his goals, he doesn't tolerate mankind's treatment of nature and its animals, and takes the lives of those who dares oppose. but you are treated differently, like glass that shatters at the softest of hits. his words are sugarcoated and stripped down to the most infantine of comprehension, his eyes are soft every time he kneels to your level to gently request that you return to your room. ra's does not kneel, he does not plead, he does not stoop to those younger than him. but to you, naive and dewy-eyed, akin to a fawn hiding behind a mother's legs, he does. every week, he takes in various experts in the field of teaching to become your mentors in whatever passion you have. he is the foundation of your growth, and he prides himself in that regard.
from him, you learn your love of animals. from you, he learns of weakness, and defeat to such platonic desires.
with your little family, you are happy. you never have to find reasons to complain about food, clothes, or any luxuries their family, akin to royalty, could obtain. you have a family smothering you in affection, attention, to the point where all you have to do is smile at the slightest thing and notice how they melt to your whims.
you were never alone when you didn't want to, you were always guarded, safe, and constantly served.
as you should, as it always should be.
and it was a routine you were used to. you never complained, you never pondered beyond primitive knowledge, you had never desired for more, or wanted less. life was normal despite the strange arrangements with servants always being by your beck and call, or how your brother would always seem to come seeking you after another day of "hard work" your mother doesn't permit you to try, with gashes that litter his tan skin and usually sharp eyes, still fixed with a glare though softened once your arms come to coddle him as a reward.
he finds comfort in your hold. it never once registered within you his ever-growing strength and how his hold on you would always seem to to tighten whenever a potential friend would pass by.
yet you are loved either way, you are cared for. what more is there to ask when you have and always been the singular pearl dripping with grace, poise, and a softness beyond the brutish weapons swung within the training grounds your brother finds himself in.
you are loved by everybody: by your mother, by your brother, by your grandfather, and you're the necessary voice that calls out mercy for whenever a servant would be punished for maintaining a less than satisfactory performance when it comes to serving you. you're the light of reason beyond instictive swings of the sword and the impulsive raise of a voice demanding for battle to settle a deal; biting your lips in disappointment every time your mother attempts to punish a small mistake a servant would do right in front of you.
although certain voices in the hallways find your presence... unsavory, out of place, or they simply pity you; whispers filtering through the kind words everyone else never withdraws from you— nonetheless, they'd have no choice but to obey your childish whims, to smile at you, to be kind and diligent to your emotions.
everything is perfect.
yes, yes it is. an undeniable fact within the factions of your heart. you ignore the subtle strain within your chest, the way the emptiness becomes blatant, and the misunderstood desire for something else... something greater, far beyond the honor of your current family; and replace it with temporary joy.
a joy that softly smiles at the piling gifts, a joy that teaches itself to be good, to be grateful, and to dismiss the ever-changing spotlight you have for your family.
to ignore their hushed whispers whenever your small, eight-year old form with wide eyes, holding a toy between your chest, inquire about what they're discussing with that requires such... strained air and ridged poses.
to ignore their careful words, their gentle hands that pats your hair, that beckons you to come to a different room, and the irritation and bubbling tantrums paired with the heat that wraps your boiling thoughts and clenching hands.
you ignore, and try to neglect that growing ache that insurmountably never passes.
even if you lay in bed every night, unable to sleep, gaining consciousness slowly but surely after another day passes.
you ignore, and dismiss, and it all becomes a cycle that you ought to never break, to never rupture with childish curiosity and the thirst for wisdom.
... because everything is perfect.
everything is perfect. like the candlelight beams of the moon dancing through victorian styled windows, fluttering past the curtains to kiss your resting body every night you lay sleeping on a king-sized mattress, surrounded by soft, cotton plushies and silky, cool blankets as your brother coddles you; your head laying on his chest like routine.
it is perfect like the gardens of flowers all planted with your favorites, an array of colors harmoniously dancing to the sway of traversing winds and bumbling pollinators.
it is perfect like the daily hustle and bustle of your servants, buzzing through wide spans of hallways with their voices mingling through busy air and the wafting scent of a new delicacy your mother ornately chose for you to try.
everything was perfect, until it wasn't.
until the illusion of completeness, of unity and satisfaction were shattered like the bones of your brother's opponents, powderized to mere dust.
until you take notice of the hollow piece in your heart, until your servant mentions a father (a word so foreign, so similar to mother... but different all the same) in mere passing when you two had conversed whilst they were tying your shoes.
at first, you didn't pay a mind, proposing to yourself that you'd ask your mother instead after you've finished your daily assignments.
but then, unlike every other time where you dismissed, ignored and forgot— you began to ponder.
the word, the meaning, its possible etymology and every historical relationship it might've contained; a lesson your brilliant mentor taught you, one that served as a paveway for curious, little you, to investigate.
a trait you're sure nobody really tackled within your family.
if that is so, then where does your stubbornness, your drive to seek answers, come from?
you try to solve the puzzle pieces, ones you thought were never present in your life, your mind wracking through stored memories of a young, prying individual like you; until you came to a conclusion.
does it possibly come from a... father?
father...?
father?
father.
... your brother, too, said the same word.
when he was tired and beat from his training, when all he wanted was a singular hug, whose hands were stained with dripping ichor and knees bruised from hitting upon rocky ground. his emerald eyes were seeking your presence, and you find how his delirious state, itching for calm after another stormy trial of missions, was abnormal; unlike you who flinched at the dizzying scent of blood.
too mature, now you've noticed. a presence that exudes superiority, that takes the lives of those who rebel, that punishes anything less than perfect; that only softens, whose shoulders only sag when he takes in your presence within the same room as him— traits too foreign in the midst of a brother the same age as you.
so when you denied him of oasis, when your young brain was too scared, too worried and all the more wishing for answers on why he always comes back bleeding and injured, rejecting his offer for you to come closer— he all but seethes, and instead sighs; watching your quivering lips and the igniting fight in your eyes, a shaded mixture of your mother's and his.
"you're exactly like what mother told me. stubborn like our father when inconsolable... but i love you too much, akhi/akhti, to care for your lesser."
he muttered under his breath, emerald eyes gleaming under moonlit glow as he looks at you, emotions too miscellaneous beyond the swirling pools of green that always keeps a watch on you.
sometimes, he feels less like a brother and more of a knight. sometimes, you wish to rebel and instead dig deep into what's been happening to your brother these past few years, shaped by experience you never once caught yourself transpiring through. sometimes, you wish he doesn't treat you like a glass ornament.
sometimes, you wish you had a normal family.
as much as his words were sweet, as much as you would've felt warmth at the mere affection and exception he holds you in regard to his heart, even if he takes your body in his arms prior to your previous rejection, all but melting and rocking your body to sleep; a common method he utilizes to make you feel drowsy, and to eventually forget the blood on his sheathed sword and sinful hands once your eyes drift to a close—
you still reflect upon his words even if weeks had already passed by after that incident, even if he must've thought your somnolence was enough to dismiss whatever was the 'grammatical' mistake he'd mumbled that night was a product of fatigue after a long day of work.
... because despite being the perfect family, despite the love and care they foster within your heart; washing off the beating emptiness in your chest was harder than any injuries you've obtained after momentary clumsiness.
at least you knew when those scars were incurred, at least you had people to comfort you through the tears that escaped through your eyes.
but this immaterial emptiness has long since festered within the confines of your caged soul.
it beckons you to choose rebellion, it traps your thumping heart and tightens its hold on it, snaring it in a pit you couldn't crawl yourself out of.
desire drives you further away from delusion, from the foundations of weaved lies and rose-tinted picturesque perfection.
and you began to crave satiation to at least mend the missing puzzle piece in your heart; piece by piece, stitch by stitch.
who is your father? what is a father? why did dami told me i'm like... our father?
as you sit alone in your bed, toys long forgotten, alone with only the cool breeze fluttering by your window to accompany you. the questions begin to grate at your mind, yet all you do is bring your knees closer to your chest, lips dry at the forgone isolation you put yourself through after a cycle of endless thinking.
"momma will be here soon," you mutter to yourself. your voice, meek and highly pitched, young and cradling childish curiosity; it breaks at the seams when your fingers bring itself to touch and wipe away at wet cheeks and tender, aching eyes.
dami was right; you are stubborn like your father.
because even if they try all necessary means to shroud your life in seclusion from reality— you don't easily back out of a losing fight.
even if the tears you shed from the lack of progress were insurmountable, even if you knew you were at a physical disadvantage shall push come to shove where you'd have to fight your dearest brother, even if it means struggling against the invisible shackle your beloved family locked you in.
because your perfect perception of your fucked up family has long since dissipated from the moment your servant and your brother mentioned a foreign word.
a simple word, a small mistake, yet acting as a newer path of life that long since diverged from the only way you knew how to live.
and you still wish to solve the mystery of your forlorn emptiness.
will you give up just so easily? would the tears you shed all become mere depression?
no, not even as you sit in your too-huge bed, with no clue on where or how to start a hopeless journey; too young to plan, too little to fight, too tenderhearted in the views of your family.
even then, your red, rubbed raw eyes seek to look back on your first hint from within the room
a dictionary was sprawled across the opposite end of the bed, thrown haphazardly, opened to a certain page that highlights words closest to 'father'.
you crawl, with sore arms and wobbly legs, to retrieve the heavy, hard-bound and gold-encased dictionary, lounging on your bed with a damaged spine.
your fingers return to traverse multiple pages yet again—
stubborn, impatient and impulsive.
earlier, it came to you in the form of realization that the dictionary your mentor assigned you to read had a missing word cut precisely with a blade and replaced with an unintelligible one.
earlier, you realized just how much your perfect family was only perfect because they've hidden the truth from you.
earlier should've been years ago, earlier should've never been swept off the rug so easily. but what could an eight year old like you do? you've none of damian's talents to quickly learn, you're raised differently. it is only now you wish you weren't so gullible.
and as your fingers strum against pages, near to ripping out expensive paper, tears unceasing, lips bitten 'til bleeding— you learn, and you grow beyond simple comprehension.
motivation, and the drive to uncover all things unsaid, even if the end would result in something negative.
through them, you'll soon learn of spite, of anguish, and bitter contempt.
but for now, you're merely left alone, with only a mantra of words all circling back to dami's words; so many questions left unanswered.
reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.
a/n: honestly don't know half of what i wrote + i don't like this as much as i wanted it to come out. this went through multiple revisions with an added fact of me trying to discern why my writing style keeps fluctuating 😭 guys please comment about what you think of this. if this flops, i'm gonna quit writing LMAO. this is a bit more formal than my usual style (re: again & again) because i wanted to capture the regality of the al ghul's family partly told through the perspective of a child.
taglist: @th0rn118, @obsessedwithromance @rogueofbullshit @ch1cky-093, @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd, @confused-they @biiibs01, @ghostdoodlen, @earlqurl, @chericia, @herebyaccident0, @ilovemyhusbandnanami, @mintynilla, @lilyalone, @anonymousdisco, @plsfckmedxddy, @maria-figueiredo, @143637-hrrm, @neerathebrightstar, @jsprien213, @realifezompire, @sammytheotakunerd, @sh4rk-k1d, @confused-they, @peptox, @lillian-morningstar.
#🌷... yael's works#series: do i look like him?#yandere dc#yandere dc comics#yandere batfam#yandere batman#yandere damian wayne#yandere talia al ghul#yandere ra's al ghul#yandere dc villains#platonic yandere#soft yandere#yandere#yandere x male reader#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x y/n#yandere x gn reader#male yandere#yandere angst#yandere bruce wayne#yandere x darling#guys please comment im gonna cry#this was a bit on the more... boring? side#chapter one is angstier i promise you all
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ive literally never interacted with the rats smp ever besides like once
but ren and martyn exist. and a lot of my other favorite creators. so we're going headfirst into rat yaoi. raoi, if you will. ratataoi?? ratatouille yaoi? ...ill work on it
#i also am one of the poor souls who misread ren's specialty as snuggling. sigh... dreamers continue to be dreamers#rats smp#mcyt#art#digital art#my art#rendog#renthedog#martyn inthelittlewood#martyn itlw#martyn fanart#is there a duo name for this. like.#rentyn#that sounds like renting thats kinda funny... cuz theyre.. theyre in a hotel.... yeah ok#okay how about this one#treebark#is that it. is that their duo name. is that a trafficblr only one i dont know how mcyt works despite being here for the majority of my life#hello#whatever we continue on with regular boring tags because wooahhh exposure woahh guys pay me in exposure (dont)#i formally apologize if you are really taking time out of your day to read these tags. you will not be receiving compensation#rats smp fanart#rats smp season 2#rats smp 2#rats in paris#ratshipping#i guess#yeah#yeah i can't deny it im sorry for trying#did you know this is the end of the tags#truly it is
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i call this one "god damn it jesus christ i was just doing this to wind down from my other comic why did it take like 2 days to finish" and also "therapists don't take style points so i guess this'll do" and also "i cant fucking use the knuckleblaster it makes me mad" and finally: "bowing back to v2 in the first fight is funny so i illustrated it. theres some other stuff in there too i guess."
#we draw at times!#comic#ultrakill#v1#v2#i just think theyre neat and i was bored of. green#context: working on my actually long comic. drew these to refresh my eyes so theyre lower effort than they could be. don't really care 2muc#art#the only reason the last two are splash pages is i. cough. wanted to go to sleep before 3 am tonight#wasted all my multiple-panels energy on pages 3 and 4. you get splash pages and you will rejoice.#if it feels disconnected yeah i didnt script it either and it took like two days. this is entirely vibes all the way through#i was literally just bored and i like v2#ok good night im going to take my nap
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screw it. im posting this too
#autoresponder#alter ego#hs#homestuck#danganronpa#danganronpa thh#can u tell im on a chihiro zine project rn#lovisas art#why do i keep posting at like 9 am? its bc im bored at work and want attention#lil hal
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BRO LITERALLY DOXXED HIMSELF TO THE CYCLOPS. he was asking to get jumped come on
#ATHENA WAS LITTERALLY BEGGING FOR BRO TO SHUT UP AND HE WAS JUST LIKE:#“HEY CYCLOPS IM THE REIGNING KING OF ITHACA AND MY NAMES ODYSSEUS BET YOU CANT FIND ME���#my art#epic the musical#epic the cyclops saga#odysseus#odysseus of ithaca#odysseus epic#athena#athena epic#eurylochus epic#out off topic but people that sent doodle request on ask im not ignoring y'all ok#it's just that my grandpa fell down on the kitchen and hit his head so now ive been a bit busy taking care of him#he's good btw nothing happened to him it was just a cut#but the gdi head always bleeds so much it was so scary#plus i felt another artblock starting so I had to doodle something silly and funny to kinda motivate myself lol#AND PLUS i started trying animating and turns out I KINDA HATE-LOVE IT#it's SO MUCH WORK TAKES SO MUCH TIME IT CAN BE SO BORING AT TIMES#but also once you kinda check how its looking overall it feels so good and fun??#anyways ill probably get to those asks around the weekend when ill have some free time :)
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First post....hello everyone.......💝
#getting back into ososan after like 5 years im crazy brah#trying to figure out how to draw them again HONESLTY i didnt even draw that much fanart when i first got into it#Emmmm hope you all like though. i need to go work on my blog theme its a bit tew boring right now#osomatsu san#jyushimatsu#ichimatsu#todomatsu#karamatsu#my art🐇#otoutomatsu#zaimokumatsu
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You own me for 24 hours, tell me on anon (or off 🤭) what are you doing
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this is stupid
#sorry i know this is so they would not say that.png but im bored at work and thought it was funny#stex#starlight express
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✧ Eddie 'Pretty Boy' Diaz ✧ (1/?)
#eddie diaz#eddiediazedit#911#911edit#eddie series#kaygifs#literally doing this cause im bored at work lmfaoo
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More stuff from stage play photos I have saved! This scene was definitely one of my favourites, XD
#pov: you're trying to get stuff done but failing#william james moriarty#sherlock holmes#sherlock and moriarty#hehehe#moriarty the patriot#yuukoku no moriarty#i loved this scene so much#the way sherlock just barges in like he owns the place#like#i was bored#so imma talk to you#i figured out where you work too btw#which you know since im here now#even if we have literally never spoken outside of random encounters#i still decided to visit you#at work#because#i wanted to#:)#and moriarty's just like: .....#'i have math homework to grade'#btw#artist's note i guess#im gonna be kind of busy#for the next few months#since my university starts up again in like two days#so definitely gonna slow down on the art front#anyway#i like moriarty the patriot
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