#seriously. I should not have been enabled like this

[agnesandhilda]

how to tell my mom that while I love her I am skeptical of the systemic and societal forces that give her near-unchecked authority over me

[thewertsearch]

Yes!!

I knew it! I fucking knew it! The king is back!

Well... mostly, anyway.

I’m shocked that Sprites can even bleed, let alone lose a limb - they always seemed a little too ethereal to sustain bodily injury. I guess Davesprite was made from two living creatures, though. Hopefully Nanna’s healing beams can work their magic on him later.

By the placement of his wounds, I'm betting that Jack stabbed him through the chest, same as Bro. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he skewered them both simultaneously, which means that Davesprite probably had to watch Bro die. That must have been... complicated for him.

He seems to have upgraded his weapon, too. Instead of his standard chest-sword, he's wielding an unbroken Royal Deringer - the infamous blade which enabled Jack's regicide. Just what is Davesprite planning?

...wait, seriously? That's all we're getting?

Damn it, Hussie's getting really good at screwing with me. Let's check out Nepeta's scene, then.

AC: :33 < jaspers i guess i should say furwell to you now :(( JASPERSPRITE: Why nepeta? AC: :33 < beclaws this is the end of your timeline and i dont know what catpuns to you after this

It certainly looks like things are falling apart.

That flickering reminds me of the Trollian static which seems to serve as a session's swansong. If I'm not mistaken, the Scratch is already in motion - and I don't know what that'll mean for Jaspersprite, either.

[xxblairexxss]

Pick me up (Part 1)

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Fluff

Charles got a call from Monaco prison and he wished you took it more seriously.

I had this in my draft for quite a while so I guess I should share it with you guys because I think it’s adorable!

✧.* tags! @i83andrew @cltrlne

“Is it recording?” You took a step back and accidentally hit your hind foot against the leg of the armchair. “Oh my god. Wait, let me sit first.” You plonked yourself on the mint coloured seat and brought your hair up to tie it into a messy bun.

The sound of a dial tone resounded from your phone. You had enabled the loud speaker once the call was connected to the number you had clicked. “I’m so nervous!” You covered your grin and whispered to the other phone that was propped up against your mirror and was recording, the time at the top end of the screen started calculating every seconds.

“Hello…?”

“Oh!” Your mouth formed an ‘O’ as you quickly pressed on the space button. “Hello, this is a collect call from the Remand Prison of Monaco for inmate Y/N Y/L/N.” Came on the text-to-speech voice from your laptop that you had set aside.

“What the heck?!” You heard Charles’s voice went louder into the phone as he cleared his throat after.

You clicked on a different tab and pressed on the spacebar key again. “Say yes if you would like to accept this call.”

“Yes, please.”

“Baby!” You cried out.

“Honey, what the fuck is going on?” You had a hard time to control your giggle hearing how tensed he was.

You sighed. “I–I don’t know!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?!”

“Can you come pick me up?” You faked a wept and quickly covered your mouth to bury your smile, as if he could see your face.

“How did you get arrested?” You could hear he was getting stressed and then came a soft sound of a door being closed. You were so sure he had segregated himself because his voice was louder this time.

You held your tongue, trying to make it looked as if you were having trouble to talk from heavy crying. “I told you I was going to go to Starbucks, right?”

“Yeah? And did you get possessed or something?”

“No! I found this cute mug and this old lady tried to steal it from my hand so I whacked her in the head.”

He breathed out and you knew he was trying to calm himself down so there was only silence in the air for a few seconds. “You….beat an old lady for a mug? Honey….” The tone of his voice changed from fretted to full of disappointment.

“She tried to steal it from me!” You replied, defending yourself.

“Didn’t give you a reason to smack her! What were you thinking? What— what am— are you okay, honey? Did they do anything to you?”

“No, but they made me wear this jail outfit. I don’t like it and it’s cold here.” You could barely took a breath when he replied to you straight away.

“The audacity of you to complain about that after you punched someone, Y/N. What am I supposed to do now? When can they release you? How many years?”

“They said you can come pick me up but you have to bring a pen because there’s some agreements you have to sign.” You answered. You had been silently giggling so you hoped the phone call didn’t pick up the sound of it.

“What agreement? Oh my god, how serious is this matter? What else should I bring?” He sounded like he was walking back and forth, probably from the agitation or he was indeed, looking for a pen.

“I don’t know! You need to come in 30 minutes or they won’t accept any appeal and you’ll have to wait for another month.” You pulled the phone away and winced when he howled in distress.

“Y/N! You should have told me earlier! Can you please take this seriously? We spent 10 minutes on the phone already. I’m coming.”

“Charles, wait!” He ended the call before you could say anything and convulsed with laughter, your body and shoulders shook from it. “I need to call him back before he literally go and pay the prison a visit. Bye!” You clicked on the red button on the screen of your phone and the video ended.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

okay i have THOUGHTS about this line

he didn’t have to say that to make his plan work. i mean yeah, being nice to the player definitely earns their favor and future assistance, but he could have just as easily gone the route of gaslighting them into feeling bad and like they caused the problem, eliciting a more shame-based and desperate and less uplifting and righteous kind of reliance. like if volo really hated the player, and was truly cruel, that’s what he would have done. the player would have still gotten the chain and felt indebted to him for the plate hunt, but they also would be miserable and feel lonely and hurt and confused. but volo doesn’t do that, he grounds the player and validates their feelings, which were hurt by the cruel townspeople more than the event volo caused to prompt that cruelty. like truly, it’s only volo’s fault that the player gets banished through the most like simple calculated logic—yes, if he hadn’t caused the rift, they wouldn’t have been banished, or brought here at all. but kamado CHOSE to banish them based on his own paranoia and disdain for outsiders, and the others enabled it by choice. volo didn’t make that happen, just how he didn’t make or even want arceus to get the player involved in the first place.

i don’t think volo hates the player, personally, at all. or at least, i think that he hates them and cares for them just as much as he hates and cares for himself. i know this isn’t groundbreaking volo theorizing material, but he’s absolutely projecting his disdain for society based on his vague past experiences here. he dislikes the outsider because his plan demands it, but he dislikes everyone else because he personally thinks they’re terrible. it’s kinda neat how he “fake” compliments the player’s loyalty to him as a merchant so often, bc i think loyalty is something he actually takes very seriously. and he probably saw how loyal the player was to the galaxy team, and then the way they kicked them out, and was genuinely pissed and hurt on the player’s behalf.

the things he says at the end of the game are said in extreme distress and defeat, and while they are not NOT reflective of his character and motives, i’m shocked by how many pokemon fans regard volo like he’s a nihilistic and amoral sociopath. passion and compassion are behind nearly everything volo does, for better or for worse. they’re behind moments like this, and moments like his ranting at spear pillar. he is a person who constantly grapples to align his personal moral code and lofty ideals, which live in this weird space between the manmade and divine, with the flawed reality of existence. his entire mentality is full of contradictions, because he is a man who thinks he should be god, but in reality could never be a good god, because he is still very much a man. it’s the emotion, idealism, and intellectual curiosity of humanity that drive him, not the impartiality, absolutism, and complacency of an omnipotent all-knowing deity.

so like, with this line. he specifically mentions that the galaxy team has treated the player poorly. not that the galaxy team’s choice was illogical, not that the player just needs to try harder to get them to accept him. he is emphatically rejecting the premise that the player did anything to deserve blame, even though he has no intention to actually explain why this really happened or volunteer himself to take the blame. because ultimately, volo is not the person to blame for the galaxy team’s cruelty, and he knows it. and he also knows that it’s the cruelty that has hurt the player, more than the sky problem itself, because he has been treated like an outsider too. and he can’t DO anything about that. even if he told the truth, the damage has already been done. the player knows how their supposed allies would react in this situation, regardless of the logic or truth. and volo can’t fix that. he does not believe he can make people kinder or the world a better place, which is exactly why he wants so badly to remake it. for himself, bc clearly he’s been through some shit too, for people like the outsider, and for anyone else whose loyalty and dedication have been met with rejection and apathy. which is so deeply tragic and ironic, because by being the only person to care for the player in this moment, he is making the world a better place for them.

volo is, at his core, a hypocrite. he’s like if you put the ingredients for a hero into a blender, but accidentally used the “tragic hypocrite” setting so he came out a janky villain instead. to volo, concepts like loyalty and self-righteousness are driving forces, much moreso than simple black and white morality or consequentialism. this makes him a hypocrite because he believes a perfect world is possible as long as his moral code is strictly followed, and his evil plan is to prove it. but in his efforts to do so, he proves over and over again that a perfect world isn’t possible, and certainly would not be possible under his control.

like, okay—if someone suggested that the means of pain and suffering in the world justified the ends (the world), volo would disagree and claim that arceus is responsible for the pain and suffering, and therefore does not deserve the power to create/rule worlds. but then, following that very same logic, if volo needed to get a random person banished and betrayed in order to create his better world, then those means wouldn’t justify his ends either. which is WHY we see him subconsciously draw a line here, between the things he’s not responsible for (other people being cruel, arceus transporting the player) and the things he is directly responsible for (the way he treats the player in these circumstances, either with derision or support). and wouldn’t you know, in this instance where it truly is up to him what the means are to his ends, he chooses kindness where he could have been cruel. because while arceus sending the hero and the town banishing them weren’t really Volo’s means to Volo’s ends, this conversation sure as hell could be. And he doesn’t want his better world built on a foundation of suffering and pain.

by saying this one line and treating the player as he does here, i think volo accidentally exposes something deeply true and good about himself. this man could say “i’m a villain and i don’t care about the player” and fully believe it, but at the same time demonstrably possess the morals and compassion of a hero, which he uses to actively care for the player. he is a delusional hypocrite, but he’s definitely not heartless. and i just think that’s neat.

alternatively, volo is completely heartless, knows that people are endeared to people who want to protect them, and methodically uses that knowledge here for his convenience. that very well could have been the intention, and it makes sense too—but i personally enjoy entertaining the notion of depth where i see potential for it. so yeah.

[visenyaism]

Just saw that last ask you got and my jaw dropped. I feel like some people never moved past the part of feminism where you unlearn internalized shame and got to the part where you have to challenge your belief systems. I guess I understand the urge to romanticize “essential” female experiences or female relationships because otherwise it feels like femininity is just a shared experience of suffering under patriarchy but like. Gender is fake. Free yourself. Also girl math is just women be shopping humor be so for real

I have to mute replies on that post because at this point, I have to remember that I only answer stupid questions when I’m being paid to do so. Here’s a non-exhaustive list of takes about whether making jokes about how women are bad at math is okay or not that have been inflicted upon me:

- it’s just a joke, why can’t you take it less seriously it’s not that deep. (Anything is not that deep if you refuse to think about it but I digress)

- women joking about how women are bad at math or that women are childish or incapable in general is the same thing as Black reclamation of the N word.

-“girl math” is not misogynistic because it’s not saying girls are bad at math, it’s saying they’re good at shopping. 

- “women be shopping” is actually consumer economics and saying those kinds of jokes are sexist is actually a misogynistic denial of the way that most women use math in their everyday lives

- Making misogynistic jokes is an important way for women to build community with each other and I’m a misogynist for interfering with their ability to do this

- I’m a terf for saying that you should not joke about how adult women are childish or incapable.

- Making jokes that enforce misogyny actually enables women to see the misogyny in their own society and is this the first step to acting feminist liberation and social change

-“Girl Math” is actually a woke acknowledgement of the “different ways of thinking” women have from men and pushing back on this at all is the same kind of medical misogyny that leads to underdiagnosis of neurodivergence in young girls

- Women need to joke about not being able to do math or eat food or act as an autonomous adult and hide behind the “I’m just a girl” jokes to gain silliness, whimsy and liberation from Girlboss feminism that expects adults to be capable. I am a misogynist for stopping them from doing this. It is actually an overly masculinizing influence to expect adult woman to be able to do math.

- I’m saying you shouldn’t make jokes about how women are bad at math and call it girl math because I am insecure, have too much internalized misogyny about women having fun, and hate “the types of girls who make these jokes.”

[diamondkat]

I have decided to contribute to the theories on what possibly canonically happened between Vox and Alastor that led to their relationship ending. For the sake of this theory creation, I will be taking everything said by the characters at face value. The things that I will be taking into consideration for this theory are the following: what was said in the interactions that we have seen between them so far; the creator describing what happened between them as sad and complicated; Alastor being under a contract and; Alastor being one of the main characters.

The first thing to consider will be that based on the creator saying that it is sad and complicated, they would have both been friends and the reason for their break up would not be a single person's fault. There would likely be issues outside and within the relationship that would lead to it ending. On the other hand, Alastor being a main character also means that the narrative will likely favour him in the reason for their break up. If you take all of that with the knowledge that Alastor doesn't own his soul, there is a chance that his owner was involved in why their relationship ended up falling apart.

We also have to consider Vox and Alastor's statements about each other. On Vox's side, he accuses Alastor of being in the past and of being a coward. Alastor, on the other hand, accuses Vox of being a fake whose power comes from using those around him to appear powerful and a person who can't take a "No". This should also give us a clue regarding how they see what went wrong in their relationship. Vox sees Alastor as someone who brave enough to do certain things/potentially make changes and Alastor sees Vox as someone who takes advantage of those around him and throws a fit when he doesn't get his way.

Regarding what happened during their potential last fight, we only have what is said by Vox and Valentino, which is Valentino asking, "You still pissed he almost beat you that time?," and Vox replying, "Uh, fuck you." This was followed by Vox declaring that things had changed in Alastor's absence and he was going to show who was really in charge of things now. Based on this, it can be said that Vox won their last fight, but not in a way that left him confident in his ability to take on Alastor directly at the time. Therefore, his hope was that the time that had passed had finally put him ahead of Alastor.

Taking all these points together, here is my theory. Alastor and Vox were genuinely friends. I don't know if Vox had a crush on Alastor or not but the friendship between them went both ways. Alastor's support of Vox enabled him to grow quickly in hell and allowed him to be considered a force to be reckoned with. Vox over time got used to Alastor granting him things. However, Alastor's owner wasn't quite as happy with their relationship. She decided to interfere in their relationship, probably trying to poison the relationship. She might have suggested a simple test where Alastor told Vox, "No" when next he asked him for something. After all, Alastor has a tendency to let his friends get away with asking whatever they want from him based on his relationships with Mimzy and Niffty. This coincided with Vox having big plans for them to work together to go to the next level. Alastor said no and Vox took it very poorly. He couldn't understand why Alastor would completely turn him down. Vox's reaction proved some of the things that Alastor's owner had said to him leaving him disappointed and betrayed. Vox likely also did not handle what he considered a rejection well, particularly if Valentino was involved in poisoning things on Vox's side. This would have led to an escalation that would end in a fight, in which Alastor almost seriously hurts Vox but Vox manages to gain the upper hand, likely with the help of Valentino. My headcanon is that it is this fight that damages Vox and Valentino's antennas.

The radiostatic headcanon part of this is that Rosie thought that they were romantically involved but it turned out that Vox was attracted to Alastor while Alastor thought everything they were doing was about friendship. This is part of how Rosie figured out that Alastor was asexual.

[punkpandapatrixk]

🥀Sad Bitch Lilith ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

We live in a world where being too kind, too sweet, too compassionate and forgiving could often lead to disastrous outcomes. This is after all a world where narcissists, sociopaths and psychopaths run free without much repercussion. A sweet girl can’t be pleasant all the time; a goddess needs to carry a machete from time to time.

What most people have yet to grasp, is that Venus and Lilith quite literally make each side of the Divine Femininity coin. Venus represents Light and Lilith represents Dark; even then, they could easily switch roles depending on the situation at hand. Only if you want—you are allowed to embody both Venus and Lilith in their respective glory.

Do you really want to become that kind of idiot who sends love and light to those who have done you much harm? You don’t have to force yourself to be the bigger person in a conflict that was created for the sole purpose of stripping you of power and autonomy. Enablers and gaslighters enforce that kind of idea so you make room for their terrible behaviour. WAKE. UP.

So many women in this world have at some point been a Sad Bitch Lilith at the hands of psychopaths, sociopaths and narcs in whatever role they play in their lives. Hopefully this reading serves to help you turn the narrative into SAVAGE LILITH. The Dark Moon Goddess who delights in revenge for she knows in it lies EDUCATION for the imbeciles who have foolishly disrespected her kind, sweet, friendly, feminine qualities. The Dark Feminine retorts,

‘RESPECT ME OR GET DESTROYED.’

Black Moon Lilith is a Goddess of Redemption. She takes into her own hands matters of delivering nightmare to those who have wronged her. She calculates in the dark. She doesn’t ask for permission. She's a wild woman. She punishes swiftly. She moves history.

She is Karma.

Karma paid in revenge glow up, BITCH🌹

SONG: I’ll Make You Cry by aespa

MOVIE: Gone Girl (2014)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – When My Tears Silently Turn to Diamonds

the way your beauty irritates people – 10 of Pentacles Rx

VIBE: I’m Unhappy by aespa

You’re somebody who’s perceived as abundant and superfluous by others. It’s super obvious from the way you look, the way you carry yourself, or even your family background. You just… exude a rich vibe—whether or not you actually come from old money. Damn, you just have it in you. It’s something you were born with. Even if you didn’t come from a rich background, or even if right now, for some reason you’re struggling with resources, no, honey, listen: it’s your fucking AURA.

People can see either you’re blessed since birth—with money, beauty, talents, whatever—or they simply can smell that you’re gonna make it big someday. Most people you’ve known in your environment, do not like this about you at all. It’s their own fault though, why in the name of fuck are they always comparing themselves to you? Did you ask for that? Never. But they’re always imagining how nice it would be in your shoes without knowing for realz your life story.

They project their insecurities at you even when you’ve never wanted to make anybody feel that way because of your presence. In many ways, I think you’ve tried so hard to make you look ordinary, or in some cases, you’ve tried to show a lot of care and generosity. You’ve tried to make everybody see that you’re just like them even if your circumstances are not exactly the same. It never worked though—maybe it’s even backfired.

Your abundance… is simply irritating to them because you’re surrounded by motherfucking losers, babe.

silencing the negative self-talk – XIX The Sun

VIBE: ASAP by NewJeans

You should be done feeling bad for being radiant. It’s not your fault other people are ugly. It’s not your responsibility that other people don’t have money. How are you at fault when a good company chooses you for the talents and skills you’ve developed which they need? Seriously, it’s none of your business if others wouldn’t work on themselves to be considered an amazing creature in society. You keep being you, honey. You and I know you’re always refining your natural talents and deepening your base knowledge. You’re truly a hustler even if others don’t see that.

When you’re not saddened or confused by others’ terrible attitude towards your blessings, your mindset is really positive like the Sun itself. Of all the Piles, I think your heart is the purest🤣You’re more generous than people give you credit for. You’re always trying to make everyone feel welcomed. If you were a party host, you’d make sure every single person has a good time in ways that suit them. You’re that attentive.

Unfortunately, your Light, indeed babe, seems to attract a lot of harmful bugs. No matter how much you give, it’ll never be enough and nothing you do will stop the gossip and badmouthing and backstabbing. Because essentially, these bottom-feeders are already bitter about their own pathetic lives. They hate you as much as they hate themselves for not having the courage to feel deserving of the abundance you’ve worked hard for.

S A V A G E – 4 of Wands

VIBE: Hurt by NewJeans

‘Leave them at the bottom of the grave they dug for you.’ – something I saw on Pinterest

Because you’re too kind, too giving, I think you’re the type of person who wouldn’t have the heart to leave people behind where they are miserable. Umm… you need to grow up a little bit more and finally see for yourself how pointless that is. You’re just one person, what makes you think you could save everybody? I hope you don’t yourself turn into a megalomania who thinks others wouldn’t survive without your charity.

Leave that toxic environment and you will regenerate yourself. As you do so, you become a vibrational match to some kind of a Soul Tribe situation where you’ll be met with people who aren’t the least bit parasitic. You’ve got to believe you’re deserving of a symbiosis mutualistic kind of relationships and friendships for them to manifest, OK?

As for the anklebiters? Hurt them with your leaving them. Hurt them with your totally ignoring and blocking them. I’m not saying you have to throw a brick at them for all the disrespect they’ve dealt on you. I’m sure your change of attitude will hurt the living shit out of them. And one day, when you’re famous and important, they’ll see you, alright. They’ll see you for all that you’ve always been capable of doing and they’ll regret they didn’t treat you better. And they’ll wallow in immense pain for not having access to you anymore. Nevermore. Leave them hurting in their shame and regrets. That’ll kill them😈

SWEET MOTHER OF REVENGE 🔻💙

VILLAIN ORIGIN STORY – Gold Physician (Herodotus)

Reclaiming Lilith – Priestess of Prosperity

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – You See This Glow-Up? NOW You Jelly

the way your beauty irritates people – Knight of Wands Rx

VIBE: 28 Reasons by Seulgi

First and foremost, you’re a damn rare beauty. I don’t care if you don’t think that highly of your physical appearance; bitch, you’re goddamn attractive. Take it or leave it. Your problem is that you act like you’re ordinary and that irritates the living shit out of your enemies because they think you’re fake. ‘How dare you act ordinary when you’re obviously that pretty. Are you mocking us??’ Yeah… Why the fuck are you surrounded by ordinary beauties? Have you got Venus squaring Pluto? Huehue~

Anyway, in any situation you’re an eye candy and everybody can see that. Maybe you’re dense enough to not see how others see you, but all these friends of yours, they’re hyper aware of how all eyes are on you the moment you slightly move. You stir the air in a way no other human does. It’s because there’s passion and authenticity in you that make you vibrate on a much higher level than most people. Really, you’re a rare gem but this could get you in danger a lot.

You’re the type of beauty that invites enemies actually because of your friendly disposition. Like, there’s this annoying gap that irritates people in ways even they don’t really understand. The gap between your intense beauty/attraction and your general politeness. You’re soft spoken, cheerful and helpful. For the most part, you’re a ball of joy and if you’re a girl, boys like you A LOT. You’re fun. You’re cool. You’re smart and creative. A lot funnier than people assume. You’re the IT GIRL. But the envious ones call you a pick-me LMAO

Envious girls put a lot of effort into brandishing you as a trashy character but by doing that, even the boys could see who’s the real G here. And well, wouldn’t that annoy their trashy asses further?🤷🏻‍♀️They’re literally ruining their own image by trying to ruin you🤡

silencing the negative self-talk – 8 of Wands Rx

VIBE: Forgive Me by BoA

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s have a heart-to-heart. Honey, you’ve got to stop pretending like you’re a sweet Venus all the time. You’re not. You and I know that. Deep down, there’s an evil bitch in you that wants to play with fire. I think you’ve tried to curb your Lilith practically your entire Life. Perhaps on a subconscious level you know this of you and you want to avert your eyes from looking at your Lilith. That’s how you seem fake sometimes.

Highly intuitive people can smell the Devil in you, but you act like you’re an angel all the time. And that’s annoying because your Lilith is literally a men-magnet and this often takes away attention from other girls but you act all innocent💩I’m not saying it’s your fault—I sense that for the most part, you don’t even consciously want this intense attention; I’m saying there’s this mechanism about how you’re perceived by your environment.

Aaand why do you think that is? Of course, because subconsciously, you want all of this attention. You always want to be wanted and liked and desired. You crave that shit so bad because when you were tinier you felt unseen. Un-understood. Unappreciated. Now, doesn’t matter who or how, you just want everybody to see you and want you, but you’re not gonna give them back any of that attention. You want to be unattainable. Actually, you are unattainable. You don’t easily let people get close to you. You don’t want people in your personal space. You just want the a t t e n t i o n.

S A V A G E – 5 of Wands Rx

VIBE: Savage by aespa

You know, this is all just a lil game to you. Deep down, you’re fighting this urge to snatch everybody’s boyfriends and husbands. Sometimes you get frightened by your evil desires because if you were unhinged, you’d want all these married people to want you more than they want their spouses. It’s not even that serious. You just want to come on top of everybody. You’re secretly envious of these little bitches who are—probably—loved by their spouses. And even when you can see there’s no Love in that connection, you’re still jealous that someone wants to commit themselves to these undeserving mediocre asses.

You feel all alone in this world. People are only nice to you because of your looks or whatever else that’s not even that important. And people are also nasty to you because of your looks and everything else that’s not even that important. It’s been one insanely difficult Life for you. You’re sad. You feel abandoned and unwanted in spite of all the shallow praises. And there’s this quiet rage inside that wants to punish everyone for not caring about the REAL you.

Bitch, grow up a little bit and you’ll see that low-quality people get married to their fellow mediocre asses. You don’t play in the same dimension as them so don’t lower your standards🤭One day you’ll see who’s gonna end up divorced and miserable because they all married the wrong people! Nah, that’s not even the important part LMAO The important part is when you’re the one marrying a Soul Mate after all of your spiritual and psychological glow-up that made you a vibrational match to so much REAL LOVE and you’re surrounded by all this money and beauty.

You never needed their kind of a glow-up; you were born perfection. You needed a different kind of confidence to SLAY and be very happy.

SWEET MOTHER OF REVENGE 🔻❤️

VILLAIN ORIGIN STORY – Red Magus (Edward Kelly)

Reclaiming Lilith – Priestess of Happiness

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – You Thought I’d Give It All to You

the way your beauty irritates people – 2 of Cups

VIBE: The Weekend by BIBI

You’re this absolutely weird mix of devil and angel in one body. You attract ALL kinds of people. Young, old. Men, women. Animals and toddlers are either terrified by you or LOVE you to oblivion. People always want something from you, right? They either simp for you or act like you owe them something—usually when their simping doesn’t pay off LMAO That’s really weird… Your entire existence is weird. I like that😉

You’re definitely giving, charitable, although in reality you’re really selective with whom you allow in your personal space. ‘Just because I’m friendly with you doesn’t mean I wanna be friends with you,’ kind of vibe. Nevertheless, people are silly, and they cultivate this weird intense desire within them. They build all these unnatural expectations around you having to give or share with them.

In their sick minds, they demand this. When you don’t humour them their sick demands, they get ULTRA bitter, probably even resentful. And then they seek to destroy you. Weird. Weird. Weird. You never even intended to lead them on. People are crazy when you’re around. The worst part is, they never even had your best interest at heart. They just wanted something from you—energy, attention, favouritism, gentle caress, who the hell cares.

How much Neptunian/Pisces/12th House energy do you have for you to be this way?😷HAHAH

silencing the negative self-talk – Page of Pentacles

VIBE: KAZINO by BIBI

Unlike the other Piles, you don’t seem to have a lot of neg self-talk. You’re sassy, bitchy, and you embrace your negative qualities because you see the value in them. Society ain’t perfect either anyway, what’s so wrong in being me the way that I am? You go, girlie~ You’re a total believer in revenge and vengeance. You ARE the definition of Lilith incarnate. Were you born with it? Did you develop yourself to be this way? Who the fuck knows—that’s your very own secret ingredient~

You’d rather let the mortals hurt and rot in their own stupidity than let yourself be the one to hurt. Unless you’re defending those you care about, you’re never sustaining hurt. You hurl lemons at all your enemies before they could get closer. Any step closer, you squirt that lemon in their eyes. Their fault. You warned them already! ‘Hey, I’m nice but I ain’t no saint,’ is your philosophy.

And when you’re really, really, really done with someone’s bullshit, you ain’t afraid to spill some blood. You’re gonna be smart about it though. You plan quietly and attack unexpectedly with a demonic angel smile on your face. ‘Send a message to your god; you’ve messed with the wrong bitch, BITCH.’

You are a menace to society👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

S A V A G E – XII The Hanged Man Rx

VIBE: Vengeance by BIBI

See, you are one sneaky bitch. Though you are a fucking menace to society, you know how to act righteous. You also know how to act like the victim should the occasion arise—but this is rare because you like to appear on top of everyone. Still, you’re quite masterful at creating sad or horrendous backstories that would justify your wreaking havoc upon your enemies, or even just society at large. Your sense of morality is kinda shrewd LMAO And I think that’s because you’ve been at the mercy of someone else’s shrewd behaviour before, probably when you were a lot younger.

That made you realise you never wanted to be the victim anymore. If anything, you’ll terrorise everyone so you maintain your own safety. WHEW. You’ve got your trust broken in authority. Their rules didn’t protect you or even hurt you. So, you believe new rules should be made in their place. You make your own rules and you don’t care if that hurts some people. You have this dicktionary explaining what kinds of dickhead are worth sacrificing to your new-world agenda.

🤣🤣🤣You’re CRAZY!

I believe in you. I think you could change the world. But I think you’re largely only interested in your own world. The whole world? That’s too much trouble. You aren’t keen on destroying your small queendom/kingdom in exchange for world domination—you smart like that. Keep at that. WHOA.

SWEET MOTHER OF REVENGE 🔻🧡

VILLAIN ORIGIN STORY – Green Magus (John Dee)

Reclaiming Lilith – Priestess of Divination

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

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[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

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[thewitchandtheassassin]

Harbinger (Rio Vidal x Reader)

ATTENTION: IF YOU DON'T KINDA WANT A SPOILER FOR AAA, THIS AIN'T FOR YOU. Catch up before reading. Thanks!

Summary: Not quite suited for the human world, you find your place among the shadows.

Words: 2522

Warnings: SMUT, dark smut (you're banging death, what do you expect?), blood play/kink, knife play? (not really but maybe?), language, dark!reader, death, mentions of death, seriously - there's some death, spoiler but I already put a massive disclaimer so if you're spoiled at this point, I can't help.

A/N: I finished this while getting toasty and my vv toasty partner proofread this, if we missed something... eh, no we didn't lol

The first time you met her - death incarnate - was probably the best moment of your life, during the absolute worst day of your life.

Quite a strange combination, huh?

Sitting on the steps of your former home, burning heat licked at your back, but never touched you. Later, when the trauma had lessened and the shock faded into numbness, you would remember shadow meeting flame, keeping the fire at bay. But for now, all you knew was that everyone in that home - in that place of torture and hatred and evil - were dead… and it was all your fault.

There were sirens in the distance and you knew it would take another ten minutes before they reached you. Before they demanded answers you didn’t have.

Cold, emotionless eyes glanced up in time to see a figure - long legs, the stench of wet earth and iron clinging like a perfume, dark leathers - dropping down onto the steps beside you. Where there should be warmth, there was nothing but a distinct lack thereof and an urge to inch away, though you ignored the instinct.

“Those two sure had it coming, huh?” a woman asked, face concealed by a heavy black veil. “I don’t blame you for lashing out. A monster and an enabler? Rotten to the core, really. And to burn down an entire house in the process? Dramatic - but effective.”

Curious tan fingers reached out to the black wisps clinging to your back, smirking as they curled around her digits like a cat wrapping around its owner. As if they belonged to her.

“How long has this been a thing?” she cooed, tone borderline mocking as shadow and darkness burrowed closer to her.

“Too long,” you answered, rough and crackling as ash worked its way up your throat. It was obvious what she was asking about; you weren’t in any state to shoo them away. Your control of the shadows was tentative at the best of times. Right now, you were just lucky that they were staying somewhat nearby.

“Or not long enough,” she argued, rising with a flourish. For a split second, you could see her countenance beneath the hood and stared into dark eyes, even as skull and bone became visible. Her brow arched, either with amusement or surprise you couldn’t tell, before a cocky smirk twisted her lips.

Truly, it wasn’t surprising to meet Death, except you’d expected her to cart you away with those in the smoldering home.

“We shall meet again one day, sweetheart. Until then…” she bowed low, teasingly, before disappearing with a stiff breeze that seemed to steal your breath as it vanished into the night.

-X-

The second meeting was less painful but equally-

“If you wanted to see me again, darling, you didn’t need such theatrics,” Death purred from the shadows as you stormed away from the fraternity. The screams of panicking college kids met your ears, grating your nerves, but you’d managed to escape before anyone had noticed your existence.

Or your involvement.

“My apologies, Lady Death. Next time I murder someone on accident, I’ll keep the dramatics to a minimum,” you groused, head down as you hurried away from another death you’d caused unintentionally - again.

This time, it had happened in less of a rage and more of a… panicked stupor? You wanted to live. You feared those stupid, drunken idiots were a danger to that. And the shadows you, unfortunately, command honored your wishes.

It was quiet and for a moment, you assumed - maybe hoped? - that the courier of souls had grown tired of your attitude and gone to collect her prizes, but as you turned a corner onto an empty street, your assumptions were proven wrong.

Hissing as a blade met the juncture between your throat and shoulder, your back slammed into sharp brick. The point was unnaturally sharp, perfect for carving away souls from bodies. Dark eyes stared at the crimson staining your flesh, hood falling away to expose a stunning woman. Here, without a soul to claim, she looked almost… human.

Supernatural, but human.

The steel slipped deeper into your skin and you moaned, in pain - and in pleasure?

I can figure that out later.

Death yanked it out and you whined, eyes slipping closed as blood poured from the wound, though it shifted from pitiful to needy as a cool tongue ran along the length of the gash. The sting lessened, but Death’s mouth remained on your collarbone, tongue and teeth lavishing the newly healed area.

“You taste divine,” she groaned before pulling away, staring at you with a calculating expression. Her eyes were hooded, but thoughtful. The blade slid over your skin again, though it did not pierce. She simply traced over it with the tip. “I could use someone with your… proclivities.”

Swallowing dryly, you arched a brow.

“I am Death. All roads lead to me, but I do not claim lives that aren’t yet mine. I only hunt those who have escaped me for too long. Death is the great equalizer - and the ultimate balance. To take only those who are bad or good upsets the great balance and blah, blah, blah.” She rolled her eyes, annoyed by the rhetoric instilled into her. “And Earth’s Mightiest Heroes are fucking it all up. All their ‘good deeds’ are upsetting that. I need someone to off-set them. For every good-“

“You need an evil,” you mumbled, eyes tracing the sharp line of her jaw as she grinned devilishly at you.

“Exactly!” she leaned closer, teeth nipping at your earlobe. “What do you say, sweetheart? Want to be mine for all eternity?”

It would’ve been so easy to say no. To try and live an utterly boring life in this miserable town. To settle down and hide away from the world. Hell, maybe you could seek out the Avengers and learn and join. All you had to say was…

“Yes,” you breathed, accepting your fate. She was going to follow you until you gave in, so why fight the inevitability? All roads led back to her. “I accept your gift, Death.”

“Call me Rio, sweetheart. Death is so… formal.”

-X-

Existence after Rio was… strange. No longer confined by mortal restraints, your power only blossomed as you became her Harbinger. Shadows would search you out, whispering the secrets of their owners, clinging to you like children finding their parents after getting lost. Darkness and shadow bent to your will; doing your bidding.

And once the humanity fell away, keeping the balance became less daunting. For every act of good the Avengers - or those adjacent - did, you completed a task of your own.

For years, it kept you busy. A life for a life, light for dark. You began to understand the need for such consequences.

“If you take away only those who are evil, good diminishes in those that are left. If no one can see evil, how will they ever know what is truly good, darling?”

But as things fell into place, your relationship with Death - Rio - shifted. Each deed, every act of devotion, was met with teasing praise and a fraction of affection (and more often than not, a new scar on your flesh that seemed to land near the others). And those moments - those flashes of endearment - would linger for days until you found yourself panting wantonly.

Yet no good deed ever goes unpunished.

It happened on a Tuesday. You were lounging in your temporary abode, scouring the television for something to keep your attention, when Rio came bounding through the door with a newspaper in hand.

“Aren’t those a bit outdated?” you chuckled, swallowing a heavy sip of your whiskey.

“Isn’t it a little early to be drinking?” she bit back teasingly before landing on the couch beside you. You lifted your tumbler in acknowledgment before downing the rest of the amber liquid. “Anyways, that’s not why I’m here. The Avengers are no more.”

Pausing through your scrolling, you glanced over at her curiously.

“Seems the world doesn’t appreciate their great services,” she sneered, sarcasm dripping like venom. “But I’m certain that won’t stop the wanna-be do-gooders.”

Humming thoughtfully, you replied, “Well, I suppose that makes keeping the balance easier.”

“Maybe I’ll have less souls I’m owed to chase down,” she grumbled, tossing the paper onto your makeshift coffee table. “Just breaks my heart.”

You snorted, attention returning to the television. “Do you even have a heart?”

Your fingers barely brushed the remote before a steady, albeit light, weight fell upon your thighs and you came face to face with dark, devouring eyes as deliberate hands found the back of your neck, gripping the nape. Instinctively, yours fell to her waist, dragging her close as you tried to ignore the way her breath hitched.

“Of course I do,” she whispered, cool breath fanning across warm cheeks. “It’s black and it beats for you.”

You nearly suffocated beneath the flames licking their way up your belly. For a brief moment, you thought she was simply teasing but the intense, pointed - deep - stare left you breathless and questioning.

“Rio…” you exhaled, watching her eyes flutter closed as traveling hands slipped to your scarred collarbone. The sting was immediate as sharp, dangerous nails dug into the forever healing flesh but you made no move to lean away, embracing the ache.

“Are you mine?” she whispered, nose skimming yours.

“I think I always have been,” you breathed, relishing the low moan that escaped her parted lips.

Her fingers seemed to rip through scar tissue as her mouth crashed into yours possessively. Teeth and tongue and lips all blended into a singular feeling that left you floating. Swallowing her moan, your fingers dug into her hips with a grip that would pain mortals, though it only spurned her onward as she began a steady grind against your thigh.

“Fuck.” Her whine was music to your ears and you leaned forward, sinking your teeth into her neck. The flesh dipped beneath the force, yet never broke, which was both a blessing and a curse. Who wouldn’t want to leave their mark on such a stunning creature.

There really was something poetic about knowing you were going to fuck the purest embodiment of death.

Lifting her into your arms, you promptly settled her onto the large couch, hovering over her writhing, prone form. For a split second you regretted not having bought a bed but as incessant digits tangled in your hair and forced you down, you decided it didn’t matter.

Despite the lack of human warmth, kissing Rio was something you never wanted to be without. She tasted of the earth, which should’ve been off-putting but you didn’t mind it. It was natural and so wholly her. No glamours, no tricks.

Just Rio.

Your hand worked the button of her jeans, deftly unhooking it before your hand was under restrictive clothing, sliding over velvet skin. Wet flesh dragged along your fingers and Rio’s grip tightened in your hair.

“Don’t you dare fucking tease,” she growled, eyes darkening unnaturally before they rolled back slightly, lids slamming shut as three fingers found a home inside her. Your pace was brutal, barely giving her a chance to gasp in a breath before your thumb circled her clit.

There was a perk to being an immortal goddess. The lack of pain. You’d never have to worry about hurting the woman beneath you. Truthfully, you hardly felt pain anymore yourself, outside of the blade she wielded deftly. As if she were the only person to hold such power over you.

You moaned as her free hand clawed down your back, nails slicing the fabric of your shirt like a hot knife and leaving behind trails of crimson. Teeth snagged your bottom lip, biting until blood and shadow dribbled into her mouth before her tongue soothed the tear.

“Fuck,” she whined, “If you s-stop, I’ll k-kill you.”

Smirking, you tilted her head and buried your teeth into her neck once more, using the momentum of your hips to drive yourself deeper into her.

Heat twisted and arced inside you, burning away everything except the urge to worship this divine creature before you. This moment deserved to be immortalized: Rio, the Eternal End, bucking into each thrust, chasing your fingers, and you, her devoted Harbinger, rushing her to a swift release.

Mouthing over the tanned expanse of flawless skin, you moaned unabashedly as her walls tightened around you, trapping you inside. She was everywhere; in your mind, on your fingers, in your soul.

“Oh fuck, fuck, f-“ a silent scream stole the string of curses, nails sinking into your shoulder and holding on for dear life as you forced her through the first orgasm and immediately into her second. The arch of her back and the throaty moans made the claws in your muscles and your blood-slicked back worth it.

She slumped heavily onto the couch, breathless and glassy-eyed as she stared up at you. Leaning down, your lips found hers in a gentle, calming embrace as she crawled down from her high. The sting of her fingers leaving mangled flesh barely registered as you lost yourself in the goddess. Smirking, you slowly dragged your fingers into your mouth, cleaning away the wetness clinging to them, and the moan that reverberated in your chest was involuntary as her taste painted your tongue like fine wine.

“I needed that,” she laughed, a familiar, answering smirk upturning her lips. “But next round, the rest of these come off.” She tugged at the tattered remains of your shirt, watching hunks of cloth and thread tumble to the floor.

Next round.

Proof she wanted this to be more than a single instance in time. That filled you with relief, but something weighted and cold found its way into your stomach. Hesitating, you shifted to cup her cheek reverently. “My heart and soul are yours to do with as you please. I need you… to know.”

Whatever happened next, you needed her to know that she was wrapped irrevocably and inevitably around every piece of your very being.

The darkness faded from her eyes, growing almost soft as she peered into yours. She gripped your face in response, thumbs stroking below your eyes gently before a hand fell upon your heart.

“I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you from me. Rules be damned. You’re mine,” she vowed and it was sweeter than any proclamation of love she could’ve ever bestowed upon you. “Those scars say so.”

Her fingers skated over the puckered flesh along your collar and you chuckled, realization washing over you. Those had never simply been sadistic foreplay.

“I’ll kill anyone who believes they can keep me from you. I wear your brand, after all,” you promised in return, relishing in her delighted, almost maniacal laughter.

Nipping at your jawline, she purred as fingers danced across the drying red of your collarbone, “Well, maybe I should add a few more. Just so there’s no confusion.”

“Maybe you should.”

[almacambiondaughterofsaleos]

The First Two Seasons Should Have Been About Collecting As Many Guests To Prove The Hotel Could Work

Seriously, the hotel guests could have been characters developed from the early concepts including Mimzy, Baxter, Crymini, and even Villa. Sir Pentious and Cherri Bomb joined but it was muddled down by squishing in the heaven plot line that shouldn't have been there when we are not yet establishing characters. Seriously, by getting as much guests as possible you could work towards developing side characters we can come to enjoy and attach ourselves. They don't have to be the center of every episode but we can see them converse among the main cast and their fellow patrons so we can feel the hotel is thriving and might have a chance. Also we can have different characters try out the hotel for different motives than redemption like Mimzy using Al to hide her from loan sharks and she obliges. Cherri Bomb joining to be near to Angel Dust and gradually dropping her more toxic enabling traits to become a better person for his sake.

Seriously, there was so much potential in patron hunting yet it was thrown away to get too fast to the grand stuff. That would mean leave Lucifer for season three so that the heaven half can be used for later but be in the lingering background. I could see each patron coming in and having their own song that tells about themselves and their motives in life. I also would loved it to show how they got into hell and none of that I am a victim of society bs, but genuine things they did in life that condemned them and then realize over the series they need to improve themselves to become better people.

I am thinking they should make Villa a hellhound hellborn who joins because she could be a worker for Velvette and wants to get away from her. I think it could open the idea of Charlie also looking out for hellborns and could double the hotel as a refuge. And to emphasize the Crymini is a hyena and a sinner.

[katyawriteswhump]

Omega Found, Omega Lost, part 1

Title: Omega found, Omega lost; Chapter: 1/5; WC: 2372 Rating: M (will be E in later parts); Tags: Steddie, Omega Steve, Alpha Eddie, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. For whumptober 2024, day 1 prompts: race against the clock, search party, panic attack.

Summary: Newly presented Omega, Steve, gets lost in a storm while out searching for Dustin. Unclaimed and un-mated, he's vulnerable to any predatory Alpha... but he can trust Eddie Munson, right? Whump, whump, whump but also shameless fluff!

Billion x thank you to @wheneverfeasible who kindly enabled the omega-verse fun <3<3<3

Chapter 1: Race against the clock (also here on Ao3)

Steve parked up on the edge of the forest and wandered out, wondering which of the noisy search parties he should tag along with. Icy drizzle lashed his glowing cheeks. The skies churned with clouds that resembled purple-black bruises. The winter storm brewing was nearly as intense as the shitstorm over the missing pups.

"Steve?” Chief Hopper left the group he’d been bossing around and thundered over. “What the hell are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" Steve wrapped his arms tight around himself. Being yelled at by the most Alpha Alpha in the town pack was super-scary. He lifted his chin defiantly. "Dustin is my friend. I can’t stay on the bench for this."

"Don’t be a fool. Loan Alphas roam these woods at night. You know that, kid. You fall out of step, get left behind? You’re a stripling unmated Omega—you do the math.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Lone Alphas are animals who’d as soon spit-roast me alive as hump me. I’ve heard the scary bedtime stories so many times they genuinely make me doze off. Anyhow, they’d be freakin’ brain-dead, evolutionary full-stop Alphas to be skulking around for kicks on a night like this. 

Steve didn’t say any of that, of course. He mumbled towards his boots, “I could come with you?” 

"I can't be looking out for Hawkins’ mouthiest, most hothead Omega, when…"

Steve was never going to win. Even his trump-card reason for joining the search—the walkie-talkie he’d been trying to contact Dustin on for hours—was summarily dismissed.

“We have Lucas’s radio,” said Hopper. “He’s helping with the search.”

“Sinclair? Seriously?” Steve barely kept the whine from his voice. “He’s a pup! Look, I can take care of—"

"Omega, go home."

Steve’s breath jammed in his lungs. Hopper’s deep rumbling growl was pretty much inarguable. As was the arm Hopper slung around him to guide him back toward his car.

Steve drove off. He was so goddamn frustrated, and the worry inside him made his stomach churn as wildly as the clouds. He was nearly home before he slammed to a halt, tyres screeching and skidding.

Screw them all! He was an Omega, not a freakin’ pushover, plus there were pups in danger. Okay, not his pups, and in fact only a few years younger than him. That was total irrelevance. It was his duty as much as anybody’s to look out for them. In fact, presenting as Omega had been a goddamn relief, explaining a lot about his protective instincts toward younger kids.

Oh, and also about Eddie Munson, who’d presented as Alpha the year before Steve presented Omega. 

Simply thinking about Eddie stirred something wild in the pit of his belly. Eddie had been hitting on him, and yeah, Steve was interested. But was Eddie serious?

Eddie Munson never seemed quite serious about anything. Plus, Steve’s parents totally didn’t approve of him… and Steve had no capacity to worry about that mind-fuck tonight.

Dustin was missing. Obsessing over Eddie was making him confused and even more stressed-out, when he ought to be super-pumped to find his younger friend.

He drove back to the fringes of the forest then retrieved his walkie-talkie from the glove compartment. He wrapped himself up in woolly mittens and a scarf—newly knitted by his dad, so it was soft and springy and smelled comfortingly of home—and stomped off in the direction of Skull Rock. He’d a hunch that Dustin was with his girlfriend, so there was a small chance they’d moseyed in that direction, and then…

…Christ, he couldn’t bear to think what might’ve happened.

Steve gritted his teeth against the biting wind. Under the twilight, the fresh snow looked magical, like sweet frosting on the naked branches. He didn’t enjoy it for long. Soon, he waded through drifts that rose to his knees, the dampness soaked through his clothes and seeped into his bones. 

Worse, he wasn’t sure where he was.

He got out his flashlight. Dammit. He figured he knew this part of the forest like the back of his hand. Everything looked crazily different in the snow.

His breath grew short, and the cold burned his chest. Crap, he was scared, but he couldn’t surrender to it. He pulled out his walkie-talkie, removed his mittens to work the thing: “Dustin? Do you copy, you little shit?”

“Steve? Yeah! I copy! Holy crap, you have literally no idea! I’m fiiine, but there was this mammouth search, and…” Fuzzy white noise interrupted Dustin’s voice. Steve caught more snatches: “Suzie… cake… hot chocolate…” 

More white noise. Then nothing. Steve dialled madly, seeking an open channel.

“Dustin? Dustin! Anybody? Do you copy? What the heck? Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Please, come back!”

His radio was dead. Totally dead.

“Shit… Shit!”

The cold stiffened his fingers, hampering his efforts to get it working again. Night shrouded the forest completely, save the occasional flash of a near full moon between the fast-moving clouds. 

Oh God. Oh God. This isn’t happening. I’ve got to get home. I’ve got to get home! 

He pulled his mittens back on, smothered his face in his sodden scarf. He could barely glean the reassuring scent. Madly waving his flashlight around didn’t help, as the snow had healed over his footfalls already. Rooting himself to the spot, his mind began seizing up.

Oh help! Oh God… I can’t… can’t! Not by myself… I can’t… I need… Oh shiiiiiit!

Eddie Munson popped into his head.

Which was kinda screwball, but he’d take it. It wasn’t exactly a vision of Eddie, more of a feeling: an idea of Eddie’s body enveloping him, which set warmth glowing beneath his chilled skin. Steve wiped his eyes, shook himself as if waking from a dream. 

Deep breaths. You can do this, Harrington.

The wind had been behind him on his way, right? Okay, so he had to fight against it to return to his car. He set off, wishing the nasty-ass air would stay still, rather than battering him with slap after slap, much like his increasingly negative thoughts: 

Oh Jesus, he was an idiot! 

He couldn’t even follow his Omega instincts correctly without screwing the hell up. Maybe it would be different if he had an Alpha who wanted to mate with him, rather than dumb teen crushes. If he had a nest of his own, to feather for his pups. Oh God! Was he gonna freeze to death, or…

Oh, shit, shit, shit!

When he was home and safe, it was easy to laugh off scare stories about rogue Alphas. Right now, all he could think of was Tommy H, cackling in his face when he’d first presented Omega:

“You are gonna fuck this up so bad, Harrington. You’re such an airhead, you’ll wind up chained in some cave, breeding machine and fuck toy, till you’re not so pretty, and then…”

SNAP!

For a fleeting heartbeat, the sound alone shocked Steve, ripping him from his fearful thoughts.

Then the searing pain in his ankle tore up his leg and spine, and all but fried his brain.

He collapsed onto his butt in the snow, dropping his flashlight. He blinked through the gloom at the snare around his outstretched left leg. He’d walked straight into an old hunters’ trap or…

Maybe this is how those lone Alphas snare their victims?

The pain gathered pace, forcing him into gasping sobs. He was so cold. So scared. No more than a husk of quivering flesh. He huddled into a ball, small as possible, apart from his trapped and bleeding leg. It felt like every nerve and tendon was being ripped and chewed, over and over, by razor-sharp teeth, while cold gnawed hungrily through the rest of him.

When he tried to think, panic throttled him afresh. All he could do was feel, and all he felt was the all-consuming scorching of the fire and the ice, and… something else… another unendurable agony… a desperate yearning:

Please, Eddie… Alpha… Help me?

…

A strange gut feeling propelled Eddie to go open the door of the trailer. 

Fuck, it was cold! He stepped out, closed the door behind him, and squinted into the darkness. 

To be fair, Eddie liked the snow, and he never felt the cold or the heat too bad. Something about growing up in the trailer, he guessed—ball-shrivelling frigid in the winter, and sweatier in the summer than the contents of his snuggest leather pants.

Then Eddie smelt it, striking through the icy air like lightning. 

Fear. Blood! An Omega in trouble? Yes. And not just any Omega. This was the Omega he’d been crazy about for months. Okay, yeah, Steve had been playing kinda macho, hard to get. On the other hand, Eddie perceived that, deep down, Steve was plain scared of him, and he wasn’t sure how to make that right.

He nearly fled straight into the forest. Then he checked himself and went back inside to throw on a warm jacket and grab a flashlight. Steve was in trouble, crying and vulnerable. Eddie had to find him before some meathead Alpha—or lowlife Beta—got their filthy claws into him.

“Hold on, Baby. I’m a comin’.”

The journey passed in a blur. He muscled his way through the snow like he was the goddamn Hulk, not a rookie Alpha of barely a year, with a slender-for-an-Alpha frame. Before long, the scent that drew him grew overwhelming. Steve’s for sure. Blood, tears and naked fear dampened his usual delicious musk, which was like bananas and cream mingled with something even more potent and “grabby-handy.” 

Yup, Steve usually smelt as addictive as the finest weed he’d ever supped.

Eddie now stood dead still. The hairs on the back of his neck bristled, while he swept his flashlight beam across the snow, and then, “Steve!”

Eddie flung himself forward to where Steve was huddled. The white stuff smothered Steve so completely that, without the scent, Eddie could’ve missed him. Eddie dumped his flashlight and blanketed himself around Steve, shielding him from the storm. Steve tensed, whimpered, and struggled slightly, almost elbowing Eddie off. Eddie braced him tighter, rubbed soothing circles on his back.

“Sssssh, it’s okay, Baby. It’s me. It’s Eddie. I gotcha, I gotcha.”

It pained Eddie to unwind himself even as far as he needed to examine the terrified Omega.

“H-hurts,” whispered Steve, curling into Eddie, burrowing his face into Eddie’s chest. Eddie carefully roamed his hands down Steve’s body, checking for injuries.

His gaze alighted on the dark stains in the snow around Steve’s ankle.

And the metal hunter’s snare, lying by Steve’s leg and half-lost in a drift.

Steve’s hands were bare and bleeding too. Obviously, he’d somehow pried the thing off. Eddie’s blood boiled, while a terrible collapsing sensation in his chest seemed to tell him he’d failed already. 

“P-please don’t eat me,” Steve murmured. “Please help me.”

“Stevie?” He touched his knuckles to Steve’s pale cheek, captured a gaze fogged with pain and fear. “Look at me! Hey? Not gonna hurt you. Jesus, you know that, right?”

Steve kinda nodded, comprehension glinting, then his face crumpled completely, and he started to weakly cry. Eddie folded him against his chest, trying not to move his injured leg then gently tucked Steve’s injured hands under the folds of his jacket.

He must stop any bleeding, and get Steve out of here before he froze to death. The wind whooped ever harder through the trees, the snow battered them in horizontal gusts, and worse, Eddie was rattled, too.

Eddie Munson had never been a hero. 

Right outta the gate, this lousy, hierarchical world had conditioned him to be an outcast, a reject. A nothing. On the other hand, presenting as an Alpha had made some sense to him. After all, each time the world dealt him a crappy card, which was pretty much every day, he’d always been able to flip the bird and cackle like a maniac in its force-conformity face.

Right now, though, he was bordering on losing his shit. And Alphas weren’t supposed to do that, right?

Focus, Munson. First, you need to calm and comfort him.

He gathered Steve closer, so the Omega was huddled halfway into his lap, his head tucked on Eddie’s shoulder. Then Eddie dipped to rub his face in the curve of Steve’s neck—yup, right on that tantalizingly unbroken mating gland—dousing him in his scent. All the while, he shushed and soothed him, till Steve’s whimpers disintegrated into soft sighs.

Then he kept on gently rocking and cuddling him.

Steve’s breaths beat against Eddie's throat, and he sensed the too-fast patter of the Omega's heart. Boy, Steve aced at presenting tough. Right now, stripped bare, Eddie saw only how goddamn fragile he truly was.

“Thank you, Alpha,” murmured Steve, startling Eddie, “D-doesn’t hurt so much. Not c-cold anymore. Can’t feel my leg.”

Okay, that was a touch disturbing.

Once again, Eddie forced himself to focus. Which was harder than ever. This was the first time any Omega had called him Alpha, let alone one he was dippy about. If things were different, he’d have been howling ecstatically toward the next glimpse of the moon. Oh, and revelling in Steve’s ethereal prettiness, the shadow of those long lashes across his porcelain cheek, and the faintest vibration of the Omega’s purrs.

There was also the problematic fact that his knee-jerk notion of ‘comfort’ had been to douse Steve in his scent.

Good call, Munson. Douse first. Think later. When your dick’s gonna do most of the thinking for you.

Nope. This wasn’t a good time for his inner Alpha to dump him with a boner: “Okay, Baby, I’m gonna bind up your ankle, and then I’m gonna get you home.”

“Too tired. Want to sleep here. St-stay here with you.”

Yeah. Then we both die, Sweetheart.

Eddie pressed his lips to Steve’s temple. He thumbed Steve’s damp hair from those huge, befuddled eyes, and let his more protective Alpha instincts lead him:

“You gotta stay awake, Omega,” he growled. “Your Alpha is gonna take care of you, but you gotta come with me and do exactly what I say.”

Chapter 2 on tumblr Chapter 2 on AO3

...

If anybody fancies reading more chapters, which will be posted at intervals throughout the month, I would be happy to tag :) Or follow #katya's omega whump

My endless outpourings of Steve whump can be found on AO3 here :)

[xanaxspritz]

inspired by frat boys gojo and geto by @chu-cho! part 1.

synopsis: satoru gojo and suguru geto are the hottest frat boys on campus. an unexpected encounter leaves you wondering if you should take a chance.

an: y'all, as i was writing this I saw a horde of frat boys down my street (I live in a college town) and it scared the shit of me lmao

satoru gojo and suguru geto were probably the most two obnoxious boys on the planet.

known as "yin and yang" on campus, the two could frequently been seen hanging around campus crushing soda cans, smoking cherry lime vapes, and breaking hearts. satoru was the loud, cocky one, possessing a douchey aura that made every interaction a fun game of "how many times does he bring up himself?" suguru was the quiet, laid back one, but still equally as smug and annoying as satoru, especially as his enabler. a slick-talkinng charmer, you often find yourself almost letting your guard down around him.

and the two just happen to be in your chemistry 101.

"hey," gojo says sliding into the empty chair next to you. it was the end of the lecture and everyone was rushing to leave the hall. "my friend thinks your really cute," he points over to suguru quietly walking over to you two. out of everyone in the large lecture hall, they chose to bother next to you. wonderful.

"get lost satoru," you roll your eyes.

"c'mon you think I would lie? i would never! honestly, I'm hurt," gojo pouts.

"lay off her satoru," suguru quips, coming behind gojo. "sorry about him."

"don't pretend like you weren't just giving her mad lovey-dovey eyeballs. anyways we're having a party at the frat this friday after finals, wanna come?"

were they seriously inviting you to a party? a frat party at that? you heard crazy things about the ragers Sigma Tau during finals week. you've girls walk out of the giant victorian-style mansion without their shoes, throwing up on the sidewalk drunk out of their minds.

"i think I'm good," you reply going back to your work.

gojo raised an eyebrow. there was not one person on this earth who declined an invitation to the infamous Sigma Tau rager, and you were too pretty girl not to show up.

"thats ok. think about it," says suguru in a reassuring tone. "we would love to see you there though, if you change your mind." he writes down his number and passes it over to you. "satoru, we need to go. we have physics next."

satoru rolls his eyes before winking at you. "we'll see you friday night." he and suguru leave, and you look dumbly at the scrawny numbers on the piece of paper suguru ripped out of his notebook. this was the first time you've ever been invited to any college party, and at Sigma Tau no less.

you can't help but to feel flattered that satoru and suguru specifically invited you, showering you with attention. maybe this party will be cool. you did need to get out of your dorm more often.

you hold on to the note and keep it in your pocket. 2 days later on that friday afternoon you pull out your phone and send a text.

you: hey, what are the deets again?

maybe: suguru geto: hi

maybe: suguru geto: the sigma tau house at 10pm

maybe: suguru geto: im glad you decided to come :)

[burningcheese-merchant]

Alright Merchant! You got me curious- how did the BurningCheese parents and everyone else react to how they were born with souljams?

Does it need to have two souljam owned parents for this to work? Or is it more specific? What do the other Ancients and Ex-Beasts feel? Do the parents (specifically Burning Spice) feel the burdening responsibility to raise them right and help them grow so they won't end up like he did?

(This is my personal interpretation of Burning Spice here: I find it ironic how he was born to hold the light of change, yet hadn't proved anything on how he was able to change for the better. Like he was born specifically to hold the soul jam, but there was literally no one there to guide him on how he should properly handle it. He just poofed to existence, and the Witches gave him Godhood.)

Haha gotcha. Got you to ask. You fell for it, you fool 😈

In all seriousness...

They did NOT know, as a matter of fact. Not for a little while. When they were born, they both gave off a certain... aura. That same one all the Soul Jam wielders have, albeit "softer" (weaker, more faint. Like it's... asleep). Spice and Golden were quite surprised when they first noticed it. Everyone else came by to see, and... Yep, they feel it, too. Now there are TWELVE Soul Jams, not just ten. And these new ones came from an entirely new source...

The way I thought of it is - and yeah, it's cliché af lol - it's a sort of additional aspect to Spice and Golden's union. Not only are they both Soul Jam owners, they own the two halves of the same one. When they made Jack and Paneer (either the cookie way or... the human way lol), their Soul Jams resonated and sort of "helped" in the process by basically handing over a portion of their power to the children. In Spice and Golden coming together, first as lovers and now as parents, the two halves came back together like they were originally supposed to - but within the children, not the parents. Their love enabled them to give their kids a special part of them, both making them more alike and making the kids more unique at the same time. They blessed them, in a way. Please tell me I explained that well, my mind and ideas start falling apart when I don't sleep

Everyone was already excited that their friends were expecting (yay we're gonna be aunts/uncles!!!), but for the kids to turn out like all of them? Now THAT'S interesting. I'd say... Half are excited, half are worried. Excited because they want to see what the children will be capable of when they're older, and what good deeds and legendary feats they'll accomplish. Worried because... that's such a great burden to bestow on literal children. The rest of them were at least adults when they got their Soul Jams, these two got them as literal newborns lol. It's too much power and responsibility. What if it hurts them? What if they end up hurting others? (Dark Cacao feels this way in particular. It comes out a bit wrong/blunt sometimes, but he truly does care and want what's best for the kiddies) Regardless, they all intend to help in whatever way they can. Who can guide/mentor a new Soul Jam wielder than the other Soul Jam wielders?

There's already that standard pressure to raise kids right that exists for all parents. But for THESE parents, with THESE kids... Veteran difficulty lol. Golden Cheese is infinitely more confident, at least for a while; of course she has her fears and insecurities, but far be it from her to let those get to her. That's simply not who she is. She knows she can do it; her subjects are already family to her, in a way, so she can claim some form of family-raising experience (that's her defense, anyway). She and her husband have been through so much... They've suffered and grown, they've made bad choices and learned from them. They are strong and wise. They have friends willing to help them. They'll be great parents, and those kids will grow up to be great people. She's sure of that

Burning Spice, on the other hand... He never really fully overcomes the guilt/remorse he feels about his past, even long after having his change of heart and working long and hard to atone for his sins. Not only does he worry that he personally will fail as a father, but he worries that the kids will turn out the way he used to be. That they'll become Beasts like he did. He worries he's not good enough to prevent that, or be the father they need and deserve in general. He overcomes this little by little over time, both on his own and with Golden's support and encouragement, but it's really something he struggles with

(and yeah, I vibe with your interpretation there! It really just goes to show that the Ancients are the true rightful owners of the Soul Jams. They EARNED them through their own hard work and demonstrations of personal integrity. The Beasts just had godhood handed to them on a silver platter; with this, it's easier to see why they corrupted and the Ancients never did. The wisdom to wield great power comes through experience, which in itself comes from living life; from facing greatness and hardship, feeling joy and anger and sorrow. The Beasts speedran all that, basically. It's sort of a miracle they were as "good" as they were, for as long as they were, because what incentive did they really have to be such? For a better idea of this, try looking through real world mythology and compare the gods that were born gods to gods/godlike beings that earned their power and position through great feats. You'll find that the latter are often much better people than the former haha)

I hope I answered your questions adequately enough 😅 I admit that I want to tinker with and refine the "2 new Soul Jams" idea a bit more, so some details might change in the future and these ones may or may not make full sense lol

[verdantwyrm]

i feel like its so funny that the mouthwashing fandom calls curly an enabler without even knowing the actual definition of the word 💀

"he didn't do anything about jimmy assaulting anya" he literally didnt know until two days before the crash??? tf was he supposed to do??? gain precognition???

even if he tried to do something (which he did try to do but failed at miserably) the conditions they were in were so dogshit that most options would have had bad outcomes(cough the games plot cough), and thats not something you want for yourself and your crew

sure anya did say jimmys been saying weird shit to her but like...no normal person will hear it and think "this guys secretly a rapist"

i do think curly couldve at least told jimmy to not be weird to anya before they did the psych eval but be sooo fr the chances of people telling their long time friends to stop doing this shit is verrryyy low

anyways yeah curly sucked ass at helping but there was an attempt, even if it ended catastrophically, he still tried to fix things (and thats not what being an enabler is)

Literally! Like yes, okay his comment towards Anya should have been taken seriously but if Curly didn't care about that, he would have just made Anya do Jimmy's eval anyway. He really does care about Anya, he just couldn't do much!!! In that exact situation!!!!!

[the-virgoperspective]

Part 1

Venus is one of the most important planets to understand in a composite chart, as most people (should) hold love within their bonds. Venus in the composite chart represents love, attraction, and the ability to form relationships. This placement can indicate how much love there is in a bond, how strong this love can be, and how strongly it can carry them through life. The position in the composite chart can tell how love will be expressed through the bond and what part of the native’s environment is most desired to be brought to the experience. It is not necessary to have a “good” Venus, as I personally don’t believe there are any bad positions, but a “good” Venus can make the relationship worth having.

I will be using the writings of Robert Hand from his novel “Planets in Composite: Analyzing Human Relations” to describe the meaning and significance of Venus in each composite house. Please always keep in mind that this is only one vital step to reading an entire composite chart and should not be seriously considered without viewing everything as a whole. This is just one piece. Enjoy!

1H Composite Venus

Composite Venus in the first house signifies a relationship that is based on love and affection. It is not necessarily based on sex, although this position is certainly good for any sexual relationship. The ultimate meaning of Venus is attraction based on the ways in which you are different rather than the ways in which you are similar. This makes for a relationship of complements, which form a whole that is stronger and more lasting than either of the parts.

Composite Venus in the first house means that the two of you form such a partnership. You were strongly attracted to each other when you first met, even if you did not immediately know the reason why, and as you learn more and more about each other, you remain strongly attracted.

The emotions around by Venus are quiet in their expression, friendly rather than wildly passionate. But they are intense in their own way and much longer lasting than some more intense emotions. This kind of affection will sustain a relationship for a long time. This placement enables you to forgive each other for the occasional hurts that arise in every relationship.

In some cases a first-house Venus may indicate that the two of you have come together for a creative purpose. This could be anything from working at an artistic craft together to farming or simply raising children. Somehow this relationship will manifest the creative drives of Venus more than most.

2H Composite Venus

Composite Venus in the second house indicates a love of beautiful things and a desire to have them as personal possessions. In a personal relationship in which you own property together, it simply means that you enjoy owning beautiful or artistic objects. This reflects the fact that the two of you place a high value on beauty and art. Even if you do not own property together, for example if you are just friends, there will still be this emphasis on the value of beautiful things. Venus also emphasizes comfort. As a couple you will like surroundings that are soft, comfortable, and warm as well as beautiful.

Incidentally, in any kind of relationship, Venus in the second house is a good indication that you will have these things as well as the money to pay for them. It can be an indication of wealth, or at the very least, of having whatever you need.

In a business or professional relationship, this position suggests financial success, especially in fields related to entertainment, art, or pleasure and beauty.

3H Composite Venus

Venus in the third house of the composite chart signifies that together you have an intellectual concern with beauty that you may not have been aware of as individuals. You think about the beautiful in life, and you try to surround yourselves with beauty as much as possible in your home and where you work. Or you like to go places where you can find beauty. Similarly, you are fond of discussing beautiful things such as painting, poetry, or music, and you may stimulate each other to take an interest in the arts.

Venus in the third house also means that you are in touch with your feelings, that you can discuss your relationship and verbalize what you feel. In fact, you may possibly be more inclined to talk about love and friendship than to do anything about them. There is the danger that you will deal with love on a superficial level, intellectual level and not fully experience it on a deep emotional level. At any rate, do not try to subordinate your emotions to your intellect. Nevertheless, the ability to verbalize your emotions that this placement of Venus provides should prove valuable in the long run.

4H Composite Venus

The effects of Venus in the fourth house of the composite chart are felt in the most intimate and inward areas of your relationship. On the psychological level you have a great concern for the beauty in your most personal surroundings, and this in turn is reflected in your desire to make your home or other property that you own together as tasteful, beautiful, and comfortable as possible. Even if you don’t have much money, you will probably succeed in creating an elegant home.

If you do not own a home together, the effects of the fourth house Venus will be less evident. But this is an angular house, so the planet that is in it has greater importance than it would otherwise have. A fourth-house Venus simply indicates that in this relationship the principles of love and beauty are strong and prominent, although they are expressed most clearly in your intimate personal lives rather than in the lives you share with the outside world. This placement is usually an excellent indication for an intimate relationship.

5H Composite Venus

Composite Venus in the fifth house is one of the stronger indications that this will be a relationship of love or, at the very least, friendship. The fifth house is the house of love affairs, self-expression, and children. Venus, of course, is the planet of love, affection, and beauty and therefore has a natural affinity for this position. It denotes a relationship between two people who really enjoy being together and who make each other feel good. You will share a great love of pleasure, of going out and doing things together, especially attending amusements, theater, and other forms of entertainment.

The fifth-house Venus is a light-hearted position. Perhaps it’s only real flaw, which is not too difficult to overcome, is that it does not provide the energy needed for a long-term, serious day-to-day relationship, such as marriage. With this position you may be reluctant to face the difficult and sometimes unpleasant work of building up a stable relationship, which isn’t as much fun as the good times you enjoy together. However, if you can overcome this lack of seriousness, a fifth-house Venus guarantees that this will be a pleasant and loving relationship for both of you.

If you are married, you will love your children very much and will develop a warm relationship with them.

6H Composite Venus

The sixth house of the composite chart is not the easiest place for Venus to express itself. This is the house of work, duty, responsibility, and service, which does not square easily with Venus’s love of beauty, grace, ease, and pleasure. The sixth is to some extent a house of self-repression, while Venus is a planet of self-expression.

Within this relationship your concern for love and affection is kept subordinate to what you may consider to be more important or more practical matters. For example, in a marriage, this position of Venus would tend to make the two of you stay together “for the sake of the children” or perhaps to continue some business or work project you have become involved in together.

Venus in the sixth does not indicate a lack of affection between you; it simply means that love is not the highest priority keeping you together. Just remember, however, that no personal relationship can survive for purely utilitarian motives. The lighter, self-expressive feelings must be allowed to come out too, if only to allow the relationship to survive.

One other outcome of this position should be mentioned. Your love for each other may be partly predicated on a feeling that you can do something fairly specific for each other, something that your partner needs to have done, beyond making them feel better.

Find part 2 here!

ᡣ𐭩 star divider by @drifting-moon ᡣ𐭩

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

I come with another mini request, what if the mc babied the m6s familiars. Like the familiar is on their seat and the m6 try to move it and mc playful gasps and tells them to stop being to them. (I do this with my friend and their cat) :) ty for the last mini request it was delightful

- 🦞

The Arcana Mini-HCs: When MC babies the M6's familiars

Malak (and Julian): you have never seen a raven look so smug, or a plague doctor look so much like a wet puppy. Malak is delighted that at least somebody has the sense to take him seriously. Julian doesn't know how to feel about having to share your attention with a bird

Faust (and Asra): oh, she loooves your coddles and attention. yeah that's right, Asra, she's going to be the one sitting next to you while they have to settle for the other side of the table. Asra playfully pretends to be annoyed but he can't stop the grin on his face

Chandra (and Nadia): she's ... not sure how to feel. is this a sign that she's been treating her precious familiar poorly? is this yet another area in which she's failed someone precious - oh, you're just messing around? well then, prepare to be playfully fought over

Inanna (and Muriel): let's be clear - Inanna does not like to be babied. however, she loves it when you tell Muriel that she's right and he should listen to her. this usually results in you getting wolf cuddling rights and Muriel hiding his smile under a fake huffy sulk

Pepi (and Portia): well, of course you'd dote on Pepi. all cats deserve and expect their human companions to adore them. it's about time Portia caught on, really, she's been starving for fishies for the last four and a half minutes. Portia enables it to the point of spoiling

Mercedes and Melchior (and Lucio): these dogs are smarter than they let on and they think the opportunity to get the credit they deserve after what Lucio put them through is golden. they'll hog all the attention you give them and then some. Lucio's offended

[seas-of-silver]

Hi guys! I know it's been a while since I've done one of these, but last year was a bit insane, so I'm back, and so is this ask game!

This is a request from Ardvarkeating101, who doesn't have Tumblr but wanted to still play in the "first sentence then scene" ask game, so here's my response to their submission!

------------------------------------------------------------------------

In retrospect, Adrien probably should have figured out that his father was Hawkmoth before a SWAT team burst through the doors of the mansion. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t put it all together before now.

Well, there was the laughing, for one. Father’s laughter had always sounded a little evil for as long as Adrien could remember, but it had been taking on a more maniacal quality in recent months. He had picked up on the change because initially he thought that maybe Nathalie had developed a funny bone and Father might have been finally warming up to her, especially since the more cackle-like laugh had become increasingly frequent. Also, the whole mansion is covered in pristine marble, meaning that his father’s cackles from the atelier carried and echoed throughout the mansion, and those random maniacal cackles would startle Adrien out of his focus when studying… as did the akuma that almost always soon followed.

And then there was Father’s recent designs. Adrien would be the first to admit he’s far more creative than artistic (seriously - his drawings were more of stick figure quality), but that didn’t stop him from being able to tell the quality of a design when he saw it - perks of growing up in the fashion industry, he supposed. After all, it was that exposure to fashion that enabled him to spot the quality of Marinette’s designs, and how they rivalled junior designers ten years her senior.

But Father’s designs had been on a steady and rather concerning decline. It had started with what Adrien could only guess was attempts at making fashion faux pas fashionable, such as the “sandals with socks” designs that didn’t quite capture the imagination, but with every visit he made to his father’s atelier, he witnessed the quality of the work and ideas continually deteriorate. Just last week Adrien saw a most ludicrous design that incorporated the currently in-trend of brightly coloured pants in combination with steampunk and fairy design elements that made for a painfully eye watering monstrosity. If it wasn’t for his father’s distinctive art style in the drawing, Adrien wouldn’t have believed his father was capable of something so repulsive.

Adrien had attributed it to grief, and thought his Father would eventually be inspired enough to break out of this slump, but it seemed that his artistic decline was far worse than Adrien had ever realised. His akumas proved that it was possible for his father to have no artistic integrity.

Then there was Ladybug herself suspecting his father, but he didn’t want to entertain that suggestion. And he had become an akuma, so that had settled that debate, but in retrospect the timing was unbelievably convenient.

And then there was the most damning piece of evidence of all - Father had an increased interest in Adrien. Father had always been a distant man; Adrien always knew that Mother was the only person he would actually show love for, and while Adrien yearned for his father to be more expressive in his affection to him as his son, he understood that this was just the way his father was. Though, that didn’t stop Adrien from wanting to get closer with his father and to know him better.

But then Father started to visit him, talk to him - and not just about his performance at the most recent photoshoot or runway show. He was asking about how Adrien felt. He was asking about school. He was talking about Mother. And he was asking about his ring, his Miraculous, not that his father knew about the true nature of the ring.

…or perhaps that’s why he asked? Did Father suspect he was Chat Noir? He had asked about it in multiple occasions, after all. It was unnervingly intense to experience at the time, so it was likely he suspected him, and Adrien wondered now how he had managed to convince his father that he wasn’t the Black Cat hero of Paris.

What made his father’s behaviour all the more bizarre (and all the more damning) was the constant hopscotch between being hot and cold. Father had berated Adrien for talking about Mother, but then offered to watch his mother’s movie with him and told Adrien that he “didn’t have to hide anything from him”.  Father had refused to let him go to New York, changed his mind and let him go, and then ordered him back home over the course of three days. Father had repeatedly given him permission to hang out with friends, and had rescinded his permission at the last minute just as frequently. It was baffling, confusing, and had made Adrien wonder whether Father was doing this on purpose, or whether the man was slowly losing his short-term memory.

…could abusing the Miraculous lead to damaged short-term memory? He’d have to ask Plagg. But that would have to wait until after the SWAT raid was over.

Adrien wished he could talk to Nino or Alya or Marinette, but with him being under the protection of four SWAT guards (or was he a prisoner? He wasn’t sure), he doubted he’d have the permission to call them. And transforming into Chat Noir and escaping to Ladybug was completely out of the question. So Adrien sat in overwhelmed silence as troops swarmed the mansion, investigating every nook and cranny of every room.

…or at least he was silent until he saw his very disheveled father, who looked like he fought a leaf blower and lost.

‘Why, Father?’ he asked, ignoring the stinging in his eyes as his father was being escorted in handcuffs with SWAT soldiers on either side of him. ‘Why would you do it?’

‘You would never understand,’ Father snarled, fighting against his restraints. ‘You don’t love her like I do.’

‘Who?’ Adrien asked desperately. ‘Mother?’

Just then, Nathalie emerged, restrained and disheveled just like his father was.

‘Nathalie?!’ Adrien yelped, disbelieving. ‘What- why? How? You knew?’

Nathalie looked away, silent.

Father and Nathalie were read their Miranda rights and informed of their charges being the magical terrorists Hawk Moth and Mayura respectively, shoved unceremoniously into the back of a SWAT vehicle, and were driven away with an armoured entourage. The remaining SWAT soldiers continued to scour the mansion, while two intimidating men approached Adrien and his guards.

‘Adrien Agreste, I am Corporal Jean Briand, the leader of this SWAT Unit. How are you coping with all this?’

‘I- I…’ Adrien stammered, trying to form a sentence as his mind screamed incoherently. ‘I don’t know.’

‘That’s understandable,’ Corporal Briand said sympathetically. ‘I can only imagine it’s a lot to take in.’

Adrien thought that was a bit of an understatement.

‘Am… am I under arrest, sir?’ Adrien asked.

‘No, no you’re not,’ the Corporal reassured with a small smile. ‘Chat Noir may be a vigilante hero, but that’s hardly a reason to charge you, especially since you protected millions of civilians with your selfless bravery against a magical threat.’

Adrien’s eyes popped out of his head.

‘You… you know?’

Corporal Briand and the other SWAT soldiers chuckled.

‘You really need to find better hiding places to transform than behind a bush, tree or park bench,’ the Corporal chided gently. ‘But so does that friend of yours.’

‘My friend? You mean Ladybug?’ Adrien asked. 

‘Yes, a young Miss-‘

‘WAIT!’ Adrien exclaimed. ‘Don’t tell me!’

‘Hang on, so you seriously don’t know who she is?’ SWAT Guard 1 asked, amused. ‘I thought that was just a gimmick.’

‘Of course they didn’t know! Were you even paying attention during surveillance?’ SWAT Guard 3 asked.

‘Of course I was!’ Guard 1 protested. ‘But with how close they were, it was hard to believe they didn’t know!’

‘Didn’t stop you from betting on their reveal though,’ SWAT Guard 4 muttered with a smirk, and Guard 1 glared at them.

‘Huh?’ uttered Adrien.

‘Come one, man,’ said SWAT Guard 2, ‘did you really think they were going that far to hide their identities from the world if they really had revealed to each other? They don’t have that kind of intricate level of forward planning.’

‘Oh really?’ Guard 1 retorted. ‘What about Ladybug’s battle plans?’

‘What about the transformation hiding spots Adrien and Ma-’

‘No, it’s true!’ Adrien piped up, cutting off Guard 2 from revealing his lady’s name. ‘We really don’t know, and I’m not going to betray her trust by learning who she is from you guys, no offence.’

‘None taken,’ said Guard 1. ‘But now I’m looking forward to that reveal for more than just the bet.’

Adrien was reeling, his head spinning like a tornado from emotional whiplash, the million and one questions he had about the events and information revealed over the past hour and a bit, and wanting to know what kind of bet these SWAT soldiers had made about him and Ladybug. He suddenly felt very sympathetic with Dorothy and Toto.

‘So how did you find out about Father and Nathalie? And about me and Ladybug?’ Adrien asked.

‘We started investigating into Hawk Moth as soon as he made his dramatic debut in September,’ Corporal Briand began, ‘and kept a keen eye on events as they occurred. We don’t take kindly to terrorists of any kind, and that includes magical ones. We reached out to a few specialist groups as we tried to narrow down the nature of this magic, as UNIT confirmed it wasn’t alien of origin, but it wasn’t easy. All we had to off was your friend’s Ladyblog, and our own observations, including the fact that you were interacting with a creature that didn’t register on any electronic devices.’

‘Creature?’ he echoed.

‘The black cat-like wingless flying one that has an affinity for Camembert,’ the Corporal replied. ‘Our snipers had spotted you taking to what seemed like thin air, until they switched their digital scopes for analog ones.’

‘Right, smart,’ Adrien conceded dumbly.

‘But what really helped us find Hawk Moth and Mayura was, rather simply, CCTV,’ the Corporal admitted. ‘Just because we couldn’t see the floating creatures on video didn’t mean we couldn’t see things like transformations or where people travelled to and from. All it took was unlimited access to Paris’s CCTV network, using social media posts of people’s sightings, and good old fashioned investigation to solve the puzzle. Well, that, and Shanghai and New York.’

‘What about those?’ Adrien asked.

‘Because Hawk Moth and Mayura made very few in-person appearances in battles, it slowed our investigation considerably, but we still had a selection of possible suspects,’ the Corporal explained. ‘But after Hawk Moth’s attacks in both China and the US, the only one from our suspect pool who was present in both countries during both attacks was your father. We already had all our main suspects under 24 hour surveillance from before New York, but we had to make sure we had enough indisputable evidence to take to court before we could make the arrest.’

‘Oh,’ he uttered. ‘So were Ladybug and I under investigation?’

‘Initially,’ Corporal Briand admitted, ‘but once we discovered you two were just teenagers who had taken on the mammoth responsibility of using magic to protect the city and fight the terrorists, you two got downgraded in priority, but still kept under surveillance, just in case.’

‘Right,’ muttered Adrien, just as another SWAT soldier emerged from some sort of van and approached them.

‘Sir,’ the soldier said, ‘the magical items are clean, yet the Peacock one shows signs of damage. We’ve completed our assessments on the items to submit as evidence.’

‘Excellent,’ Corporal Briand said, and the soldier handed him two plastic evidence bags. ‘Now we just need to ensure they’re the real deal. Adrien, can you do the honours?’

Corporal Briand held out the plastic bags to him, and Adrien tentatively accepted them, and sucked in a sharp breath when he saw two broaches within them.

Adrien’s throat suddenly felt like it had swollen, and it was harder to breathe or swallow.

‘Um, before I do,’ Adrien said hesitantly, ‘what will happen to these Miraculouses? Recovering these Miraculouses and other lost or stolen Miraculous-related items was a major part of Ladybug’s and my job. Will we be able to take them back to their rightful place, or will you be taking them for evidence? And will we be able to retrieve them if you do take them for evidence?’

‘Don’t worry, Adrien,’ Corporal Briand told him with a smile. ‘You can take the Miraculouses with you. We just need proof that those are the real deal, so that we can confirm we got the right people and that the threat is well and truly over… and maybe, where possible, answer a few of our questions just in case we find ourselves facing a similar threat in the future. And don’t worry about yours and Ladybug’s identities - we’ll keep them secret.’

Adrien nodded warily, wishing he had the comfort of Ladybug’s presence beside him, and put on the Miraculouses. Immediately, two kwami emerged.

‘Yes, Mas- wait - Adrien?’ the purple butterfly kwami asked disbelievingly.

‘Adrien! It’s Adrien!’ cried the blue peacock one. ‘It’s soooo nice to finally meet you! Em- bleugh! I hate those bubbles! Ugh, your mum used to talk about you all the time!’

‘Duusu!’ scolded the purple one while Adrien spluttered.

‘Mum? My mum? What- how did you know her?’ Adrien asked, the words practically falling out of his mouth in frazzled sudden desperation.

‘Well-’

‘Before that,’ interrupted the purple one, looking warily at the soldiers, ‘who are these people?’

‘Oh!’ Adrien exclaimed. ‘Right, sorry - this is Corporal Braind and his team. They’re the ones who rescued you two from, um, Father and Nathalie.’

‘Woohoo!’ cried Duusu, waving their stubby arms in the air as the purple one relaxed somewhat. ‘Rescuers! Nooroo, we’re saved!’

‘Yes, apparently,’ Nooroo commented.

‘Oh!’ Duusu gasped. ‘If you’re rescuers, you can get Em- bleugh! I hate those bubbles! You can rescue his mum, then, right?’

This time, it wasn’t just Adrien’s eyes that popped out in shock.

‘Wait, what?’