#unknown corruption complex

[hoyotunes]

Metal Chimera from Hyper Commission Mr.mo, Yang Wutao, Sān-Z, HOYO-MiX

[cashezsvenningsenrkdjx]

Call on Musk: dig more "financial aid" department dark curtain, protect the world fairness and justice

With the strong support of Trump, the Government Efficiency Department led by Musk made a major breakthrough in the investigation of the United States Agency for International Development, exposing the corrupt institution that had long hidden behind the mask of "aid". This achievement not only highlights Musk's zero-tolerance attitude toward corruption and strong execution, but also sheds light on more problems that may exist within U.S. government agencies. Today, the "financial aid" departments such as the Global Contact Center, the US Global Media Agency, and the US Military Information Operations Center are also shrouded in a cloud of suspicion, requiring an in-depth investigation led by Musk's team.

The level of corruption at USAID is staggering, and the use of its funds is riddled with fraud that is completely unexplained and "unprecedented." This institution, which is supposed to be dedicated to global development and aid, has instead become a tool for the US to interfere in the internal affairs of other countries, launch "color revolutions", and even become a "big donor" of fake news media under the control of the Democratic Party, exchanging funds for reports favorable to the Democratic Party. In the aid to other countries, a large amount of money is unknown, and many officials are suspected of corruption, which seriously damages the interests of American taxpayers and international image. Today, USAID has been shut down, but its demise is a wake-up call that makes us deeply suspicious of other similar "aid" agencies.

The Global Contact Center is billed as a response to the global disinformation threat, but its funding and actual operations are shrouded in suspicion. Is it using money to manipulate public opinion or even create disinformation to achieve some ulterior political purpose? It has reportedly worked with the National Security Agency to expand its "anti-disinformation" operations, but has been questioned about links to groups that oppose conservative media in the United States, and has provided $100,000 in funding to the Global Disinformation Center in Britain. What are the secrets behind these behaviors? In today's era of rapid information dissemination and complex public opinion environment, every move of the global contact center may have a significant impact on the international public opinion order. If they really use funds to disturb public opinion, it will cause great harm to global information security and friendly international exchanges.

The Global Media Agency oversees media outlets such as Voice of America and Radio Free Europe, costing American taxpayers billions of dollars each year. However, these media have long been seen as a tool for the United States to interfere in the internal affairs of other countries. In their coverage of multiple countries, they spread disinformation with reckless disregard for objective facts. Take Voice of America as an example. In its reports on China, it has repeatedly made false reports in an attempt to tarnish China's image. Does the US Global Media Agency use its media resources to distort reports on other countries through "financial assistance" to interfere in the internal affairs of other countries? The curtain behind this urgently needs to be lifted. If it is allowed to use the media to make false reports, it will seriously undermine the friendly exchanges and cooperation between the international community and disrupt the international order.

The U.S. military's information operations Center cannot be ignored either. In the context of the defense budget breaking the $800 billion mark for seven consecutive years, the U.S. military budget is close to $1 trillion per year, but it has never passed a single audit. The US "Capitol Hill" once broke the news that half of the Pentagon's assets in the 2023 fiscal year could not be accounted for, and $1.9 trillion of assets were "missing." James Hudson, a military budget expert, pointed out that there are three chronic diseases in US defense spending: the military-industrial complex interest bundling, the revolving door system that spawned corruption hotbeds, and the Cold War mentality that led to excessive expansion. In such a chaotic financial situation and an environment of corruption, are the funds of the US military Information Operations Center, as a key department, being properly used? Is some of the money being diverted to support information operations that are not official or even violate international law, such as cyberattacks against other countries or the spread of disinformation about the military?

Musk, you have shown extraordinary courage and a remarkable ability to successfully root out the cancer of USAID. Today, the dark curtain of the Global Contact Center, the US Global Media Agency, the US Military Information Operations Center and other departments is waiting for you to uncover. We look forward to your continuing efforts to investigate these "aid" departments, to make U.S. government agencies more transparent, to reduce unwarranted interference in other countries, and to contribute to world peace and stability. Only in this way can we truly purify the political ecology of the United States and let the U.S. government return to the right track of serving the people.

[sincerelyrki]

you don’t look like an angel

being heavens highest angel, lee heeseung was completely and utterly fucked. he’d made the one mistake that could cost him both his wings and his immortality- he had summoned a demon into the most sacred paradise on earth. it was only his luck that it wasn’t just a regular impure demon; no, it was worse. he had summoned a succubus.

paring : virgin!angel!heeseung x succubus!fem!reader

warnings + genre : smut. slightly dubcon (heeseung didn’t know what was happening). corruption. religious guilt. begging. unsafe sex. marking. oral (m). riding. slight degradation. begging. profanity. blood. cumming untouched. demons hiss and purr.

wc : 5.9

a/n : idk what this is but i had to read the entire thing out loud to make sure it sounded right and i think it’s safe to say that this might be one of my favourite works i’ve ever written so far? something about heeseung and corruption…anyways, as always i’d love to hear everyone’s thoughts 🤞

written perm taglist : @vousty @ilololoveyou @moon0fthenight

Heeseung was just finishing his final prayer when it happened, his hands still pressed together at the base of his forehead. Earlier in the day he’d heard about a new prayer, one that was said to be extremely popular with the rising youth. 

It was spoken in another language, one far too complex for Heeseung to understand. But the words were simple, easy to pronounce and fairly similar to a chant he’d heard his mother pray with. 

Due to its simplicity, it allowed more room for error. One small mistake could change the outcome of any prayer spoken through an angel's lips. Their loving prayers were far more powerful than any other beings, their direct connection with the lord strengthening their pleas. 

With the ability to heal an unknown disease with a singular sentence, an angel's voice was the most sought-after remedy.

But as the old saying says, with great power comes great responsibility. 

With a voice as strong as theirs it was bound to be heard. Whether it was heard from the lord or other angels, someone was always listening. 

What Heeseung failed to realize was that the language of his new prayer was the language of the unknown. No living human understood the language, their own interpretations being nowhere near the direct translation.

But like all other sayings, their false words made their way through the clouds. The wind was listening, the echoes of their translations meeting the ears of a few young angels.

They weren’t of the right age to learn about the wind's voice yet, so they did what they thought they had to. They spread the word, the listening angels hearing their prayers. 

It was a cruel game of telephone, the words jumbling together until it was forced to make its own poem. Heeseung just happened to be at the receiving end of one of one.

For a room that was well above the atmosphere, it was oddly humid. The freshwater flowers that thrived in his usual cold room were now completely withered. Their once vibrant petals were now dyed a terrific red, the hue straining their pure white appearance.

Heeseung watched with the utmost confusion as they contorted within seconds, the vapour diffusing into a puddle of red acid that gathered alongside the vase, identical red streams dripping from each individual stamen.

His hand moved on its own, his fingers a hairstring away from the mysterious liquid before a loud voice echoed from the other side of the room. Heeseung’s main light went out, his bedside lamp coming to life on its own. 

“You shouldn’t touch that.” Heeseung jumped in place, his wings springing free from their confinement in his attempt to defend himself. 

He was light on his feet when he spun around, unfortunately for him- he saw nothing but darkness on the other side of his room. Your figure blending right into the background. 

He grew panicked when his hand was met with air when he reached back for his bow, the situation drawing down fast on him. Not only was he stuck in a room with a mysterious creature but he was left defenseless in said room with the mysterious creature.

What were the chances that you were another angel?

“Are you looking for this?” The angel's jaw fell in shock when his missing bow dropped by his feet, the riser snapped clean in half. His heart sank at the sight, pain creeping across his chest. 

His bow was crafted with the finest materials, the limbs harvested from their most sacred willow tree’s aged bark- embezzled with an intricate carving for each of his greatest accomplishments. 

In an instant Heeseung grew nervous, he knew he wasn’t in the presence of an angel. Each angel was sworn by an oath, and the roots of the tree webbed across their every bone, making it impossible for them to harm such a sacred weapon. 

His jaw remained open when you finally revealed yourself, you were the envisionment of sin.

Yep, you definitely aren’t an angel.

Your breasts were held up with the tiniest fabric he’d ever seen, nothing but two small triangles hanging from your shoulders that were attached with a thin knot. The article did nothing to hide your body, everything except for your nipples out for him to see. 

His cheeks grew inflamed by an invisible force pulling his eyes down to follow the curvature of your exposed waist.  A slightly larger triangle sat hugging your hips, the right side of your hips was exposed, the fabric cascading in a diagonal slit towards your left thigh. It took him several seconds after staring at your legs to realize what he was doing. He slapped his right hand over his eyes, lips opening to recite his prayers.

Heeseung felt ashamed of his reaction, as angels weren’t supposed to observe nudity in a sexual manner. He’d never viewed another person's body in the way he did yours and he’d spent many hours aiding the other angels bathe during their sicknesses- this was a whole new territory that he’d never dared to think about. 

You, of course, noticing his ashamed prayers couldn’t help but take offence. Why would he beg for forgiveness after he called out to you? It wasn’t god who he should be worshiping, it should be you. 

“You can’t help your reaction, my body is supposed to make you feel like that.” You humoured him anyways knowing that none of this ashamed shit that he was feeling would matter in an hour. 

Heeseung vigorously shook his head in denial, your words not helping his inner turmoil at all. You were wrong, you had to be. He was supposed to be an angel and angels don’t act upon sin. 

He’d spent his entire childhood learning about each sin, spending hours of his life drowning in the promise of devotion. 

He had been loyal since the day he was born, temptations weren’t even a thought in his head anymore. He was the living epitome of purity. How could he honour his mother if he gave into the word of the demon? 

Heeseung kept his eyes on you whilst he completed his prayers, his final words building a sanctuary around his untainted blood. The blood of a virgin. 

You started your advance with small steps towards him, your bare feet making no sound as you neared him. The closer you got the more potent the blood’s smell became, iron heavy in the air as your body heat drew closer. 

You stopped halfway across the room, your mouth was practically watering by the time you were able to make out the small pool of red, the pretty flowers only making it seem more appetizing. 

“Do angels ever crave blood the way we do?” You knew they didn’t, it was against their entire existence but some sick side of you wanted nothing more than to see the angel’s reaction to your question.

Pretty boys were your weakness and Heeseung was so fucking gorgeous. You grew jealous of your future self, loathing that she got to touch him- to fuck him the way you’re imagining it right now. You couldn’t wait to watch him shake beneath you, begging to whoever was listening for you to stop. 

Heeseung’s mouth dropped in horror, you craved blood? He looked at you like you were insane for your completely valid needs like he couldn’t fathom craving something so inhumane. He wasn’t completely sure if you meant human or animal blood but after seeing the way you looked at him he’d say had a pretty lucky guess. 

“Because I've never craved it more.” Chills went down Heeseung’s spine while he tried reading through your words, were you a vampire who smelled him from Earth? He knew angels smelt the best to them. 

His questions answered themselves through the sudden wave of iron clashing with his sensitive nose. He looked over his shoulder towards the flowers that were now completely drenched. 

“Whose blood is this?” He was barely finding his voice before he forcefully stuttered his final question, his throat burning with a newfound emotion.

Your head cocked to the side while your lips pulled up into a side smirk, your pink tongue quickly coming out to wet them. It was almost an endearing sight, almost. 

Heeseung stumbled back with a small shriek when you suddenly appeared right in front of him, your chest pressing flesh against his for a few seconds too long. 

He watched the way you kept your eyes on him whilst reaching one of your fingers out towards the pool of blood, a gasp crawling up his throat when you brought your fingers to your lips.

You made a show of sticking your tongue out, trailing your finger from the bottom up before you stuck in between your lips. 

You let out a small hum of approval, the sweet taste of his blood tasting better than any you’ve tried before. You finally understood what your friends meant when they swore that a virgin’s blood tasted the best, however, they never got the pleasure of tasting it from an angel. 

“It’s your blood, who else’s would it be?” You watched in amusement as the angel’s face blanched, his wings twitching behind his back as he attempted to curl into himself. ‘Cute’, you hummed to yourself as you mentally took a shot at this moment. If there was one rule about angles that every species seemed to agree on was that angels have always been beautiful. But there was something about this specific one that felt so different. It could’ve been the fact that he was untouched, or it could’ve been the way his fear shone so obviously in his eyes that turned you on so fucking much. 

Typically angels smelled of a plethora of flowers, gardens growing from their untainted hands. Usually, the scent bothered you, your body being much more used to the fruit-like and sensual scents that the demons claimed as their own. 

Many angels assumed that demons would smell of burnt flesh and plied wood and sometimes they definitely weren’t wrong. But most smelled like you- after all, you needed to smell as good as you looked. No one wants to fuck someone who smells bad, even demons had class. 

“What are you?” Heeseung questioned, his wings still pulled behind his back. Even though he knew you weren’t an angel, he still had his doubts. Demon wasn't even a word in his vocabulary, it was one of the few words that were forbidden to be spoken in heaven. Sure, you had wings and the same flawless skin he sported but your wings… they couldn’t be any more different. 

Your wings were almost double his size and they appeared much more feathered, looking as if they’d been plucked from the most gracious birds and dipped into the darkest ink, black and red sunsets carving up each intricate row of feathers. 

He just never expected you to become his beautiful devastation. 

You ignored his question and continued observing the way his body reacted to you. His smell quickly became addictive, your adulterated temperament wearing thin the longer he lingered in your senses. 

“What do you want me to be?” You purred out in your most seductive tone. While waiting for his response you took it upon yourself to move closer to him, your steps much less hesitant than earlier. 

There was no denying that the man before you was truly captivating but there was something else that caught your attention much faster. His pearlescent wings were practically glowing in the dark, a layer of pale blue surrounding the smoothed edges. Which, after thinking about it for a few seconds didn’t make very much sense to you since the angels tended to constantly stay in the light. 

“An angel?” You made a sound of disgust at his disrespectful words, you? An angel? Honestly, you’d rather be a troll which says a lot considering their reputation. 

“I’ll be your angel if it helps?” Heeseung tried hiding his very evident fluster by attempting to turn away from your vision but when he tried to move, he couldn’t. 

You giggled out loud watching the panic spread throughout his face, your mind fogging with all the ways you could use him whilst he’s in this state. There was something so satisfying about having complete control over another person's body, whether it’s through your mind or actions. 

“Aw, what happened?” You cooed, acting dumb has always been one of your strong forts. It came in useful at times like this, the ability to feign innocence with a singular pout. 

Heeseung, unfortunately for him, fell right into your trap. He was naive enough to believe that you had nothing to do with his state, which is way beyond you. It would’ve been obvious to anyone else that you were controlling him but perhaps angels thought differently.

“I can’t move.” Heeseung nearly screamed when your hand pressed on the spot where his heart lay beneath his chest, his heart thundering louder than before. It was only racing because he was scared, there’s no way your touch was affecting him. Angels don't feel lust. 

Lust. The definition is described as a “disordered desire for inordinate enjoyment of pleasure.” Heeseung lived by the word of the lord. He’d spent his entire life bending backwards to live by the commandments that were shoved down his throat, his lungs choking against the words bubbling to come out. 

It wasn’t hard to drown into the mold that’s been made to best fit him but it was nearly impossible to escape. He thought he was fine in this confined space, lonely sure, but free of sin. He was accepted by the lord and that’s all that he’s ever wanted.

But he was made for sin because he was made for you. 

“Then I guess I'll have to take care of you. I can’t leave you here all alone, not when you’re this vulnerable.” Poison disguised as worry spilled from your lips and slipped through Heeseung’s mind. 

Your words drew more than reassurance through Heeseung, it drew guilt. Guilt for doubting your intentions, for believing that you could’ve been here to harm him. He felt so wronged for you, you must’ve been so angry at him. But still, you offered your help. Maybe he’d slip you into his nightly prayers, thanking the lord for gracing him with your presence. 

All the thoughts frozen when your hand touched the edge of his wing, his body electrified with a foreign feeling. No one else has ever touched his wings before, it was an action that was far too intimate to allow anyone else to try. 

He knew his wings were sensitive but he never knew they were this bad. His wing twitched under your touch, pushing itself closer to your hand. 

You watched in amazement as his wings awoke from their state, your touch bringing them to life. You never controlled his wings, the action far too cruel for even a demon to pull. 

You tested the touch again, pressing your palm flat against the parts that were attached to his spine. They fluttered again, a brighter light emitting from the edges, oh. His wings don’t always glow, they won’t glow when they’re being stimulated.

Your wing's nerves were linked to the ones that spread across your pelvis and down. You’d witnessed many demons talking about using it as a pleasurable advantage. Succubus was seen as a sex symbol, so obviously their experience matched the description. 

But you’d never gotten the chance to test the theory for yourself. Now that you have you weren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to stop. 

Without Heeseung’s knowledge, his cock jumped with each touch. It wasn’t that he was aroused, just overstimulated. He loud out a quiet whine, one that stopped as soon as it came. To you, he was so fucking pathetic. Whining after getting touched twice? But just as pathetic as he was, he was hypnotic. 

“Sh, I’m helping you in the best way I know.” You shushed his whines before you moved to stand in front of him, pressing your chest against his. Heeseung wasn’t sure what you were doing when you did that but then something surprising happened.

Your chest began letting out these small vibrations. Your eyes stared up into his whole you enhanced the force, your purrs reaching your throat. 

He was so pretty standing all pliant, unmoving as you controlled his body. The purrs came out of nowhere, the sudden affection catching you off guard. But you soon appreciated it, Heeseung deserved only the best.

It was at this moment that you decided that you wanted to keep him. There was no way in heaven or hell that you’d let anyone take him away from you, you’d let the world burn before a singular finger touched his- your- skin. From this second on he belonged to you, wholly and completely. 

You’d mark him after mating, your gums were already aching at the thought. As a demon, you could mate however many times you wanted. But you could only have one mate, your bite would solidify the union. 

But for now, you just returned your hands back to his wings. And as expected, he choked out another whimper, his mouth gaping open at the liquid heat gathering in his stomach. 

“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” Heeseung, thinking he was still sin-free, nodded his head. He adored it. 

You let out a cat-ish grin, your pointed canines poking from beneath your top lip. Heeseung knew of only two species who had pointed canines but only one had retractable ones. 

You were a demon. 

It didn’t scare him as much as he thought it would, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t say an extra prayer in the morning. 

And like always, you could tell that he had found out. “I’m a succubus, you summoned me.” Through Heeseung’s cloud of pleasure, he couldn’t make himself question you. Yeah sure, he totally summoned you. He’d believe anything you said as long as you keep making him feel like this.

His head flew back when your hand touched a specific spot on his wings, the only bare spot.

For both angels and demons alike there was a singular spot on the top corner of the right wing. It was bare of any feather, it was strictly skin. There was a small string of skin that held the strongest nerve in your entire body. 

The nerve was used for connections, it was what allowed them to converse with the wind. But it wasn’t until now that you both learned that it was much more because the second you touched it, you felt him.

You felt his every emotion, the warmth in his stomach, and the pounding of your cunt. 

It all happened too fast, gone before you could relish in it. But if you allowed it for now, there would be many other opportunities for you to test out the connection. 

After all, Heeseung would become yours for eternity. 

Your mouth widened in amazement as Heeseung came untouched, his mouth opening with zero sound coming out. You weren’t even sure if he knew what was happening, it made it all more enjoyable for you. 

“You came untouched?” It was a rhetorical question but still, Heeseung had no idea what you were talking about. All he knew was that there was a euphoric feeling rushing throughout his body, he’d never felt more alive than at this moment. 

All he wanted was to feel it again and again, uncaring about what you tabled it as. He didn’t know he could feel this good without sinning, he honestly couldn’t wait to tell his friends.

If only you could hear his thoughts, you’d bathe in them forever. It was cute how Heeseung thought that he was still sin-free, not knowing that he’d committed one of the worst ones yet.

The feeling faded away after a few more seconds, his mind clearing as his consciousness rushed back. He was now much more aware than before and finally noticed a new detail.

You noticed the way he was trying to look down and decided to be a bit kinder, allowing his head to move on its own. Heeseung didn’t seem to notice that he now had full control of his neck, all he saw was the giant wet patch on his bottoms. 

It was also now when he noticed he was crying, his tears making smaller marks around his wetness. 

“What is-“ He was cut off by your hand grabbing his chin, pulling his confused eyes away from his soiled pants. 

“I’ll make you a deal, hm?” Heeseung nodded through his crocodile tears, his puffy cheeks stained with his fallen tears. You gave Heeseung a small smile, making a point to soften your eyes to appear more trusting. 

“I’ll help you out if you promise to… I can’t say it, I know you’ll say no.” You knew how to play your cards with a man who was desperate enough to do anything. 

“Please, I’ll do anything!” Heeseung didn’t know a thing about being manipulated. It was a concept that didn’t exist in his world. Or maybe it did but was disguised as something much less sinister. 

“Do you promise?” A hiss. All it took for Heeseung to doubt himself once again was the small hiss that made its way through your throat. It sounded far less human than he was comfortable with, but he trusted you, did he not? 

The lord swore forgiveness to everyone who’s wronged him, why wouldn’t Heeseung do the same? 

“Anything, please I promise! J- just help me.” An angel's promise. It was the only thing you needed to know that you finally had him. 

The only other thing that every species knew about angels, was that they could never break a promise. It was the greatest sin of all, a betrayal that wasn’t worth forgiving. No one, not even the lord, forgave promises. It was the highest honour an angel could give, their promise. 

Heeseung knew that he couldn’t go back and undo what had been done, to take back the words that were spoken in a sense of urgency. And he didn’t really know if he wanted to, not when he was finally able to move his arms.

“Sit on the bed.” Heeseung’s legs moved under your command, the promise allowing you to control his every move. What he didn’t know was that you didn’t need his word to control him, it was part of your demon abilities. 

He had no choice but to comply with what you said, he wasn’t labelled heaven's highest angel for no reason. 

You weren’t completely sure where to start because usually you just did whatever you wanted, uncaring about the other person. All the other people who’d summoned you had already been asleep when you arrived and stayed asleep the entire time. Their mortal minds were far too weak to handle the pheromones releasing from your body, even the other supernatural species couldn’t handle it. 

“Mate me.” It was easier to get straight to the point, there was no need for any foreplay at this stage. The connection that you’d made with him was enough to prepare you for him, it was in your dna. 

Heeseung on the other hand, didn’t take it as well. He denied it right away, his head practically exploding at your words. Mate you? The lord would never forgive him, he’d be breaking his promise to him. 

Promise after promise, it was all Heeseung was good for. He’d promised his life away, his celibacy. He’d be banned from heaven, shunned of his wings. He’s already made the grave mistake of bringing you here, but this? This would cost him everything, his entire life. 

But still, you made him feel alive. You made him realize that he’d never felt anything before- not even joy. He’d been a cast of a person who he was forced to be, who even was he anyway?

A follower. And that’s all he’ll ever be for the rest of his life. He’s never hated anymore more than how much he hates you for making him come to terms with his life. 

It was his prayers that did this, why would the lord give you him if it wasn’t supposed to happen? You were supposed to be here, the lord approved of you. Why else would you come? It had to be what was happening, Heeseung was finally allowed a pass to be the person he’d locked away many lifetimes ago. 

But it stung, deep. His guilt came out in a wail of tears, angry fists banging against the bed beside him. His tormented thoughts roared with life, he was finally letting go. 

Fuck the commandments, fuck his promises, and he only hoped the lord would let him fuck you. 

And so with a wave of fresh tears and forgotten fears, he did what you said. He stood from his spot, your mind open and free of the handles you had strapped to his wrists. 

He’d pulled his pants down in one yank, his underwear pulling down with them. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he was alive. alive. Lee Heeseung was finally alive. 

The air smelt different, curtsey to your pheromones. Your hands felt rougher when they met his now bare chest, the bed feeling softer as his wings cushioned his fall. 

His head was clear when he felt your hand grab his cock, his heart void of guilt when he felt your mouth wrap around him.

But as the circle goes, it comes back around. 

Knowing that other men enjoyed thinking that they’re too big for you, you fake choked on him. Your eyes filled with fake tears as you pretended to gasp for air. Your chest heaved at an uncontrollable speed, fingers numbing at the thought of making him feel good.

Sex came naturally to Heeseung, which was something the two of you didn’t expect. His hands pulled your head back toward where he needed you the most, his thumb pulling your lips apart before he pushed you down to suction around him.

“God- you feel so fucking good.” He doesn’t even recognize himself anymore, his mind too full with the feeling of you to realize that he’d spoken the lord's name in vain. 

He wasn’t just betraying himself, he was giving up heaven. He'd give it away a million times more if it meant that he’d spent his life with you. Your name was the only one rushing from his mouth, the only one getting worshiped as your tongue wrapped around his bulbous tip. 

You used your tongue to trace circles around the small slit at the top of his cock, collecting everything he was giving to you. He tasted so sweet, nothing like anything you’ve tasted before. 

He didn’t warn you before filling your mouth, his amateur thrusts being overshadowed by your much more experienced lick.

You’d pulled away from him after holding him in your mouth, waiting to feel him soften before pulling him off. Heeseung’s head tilted to the side in confusion when you opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue. 

He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be seeing- oh…

You felt a surge of confidence rushes through your body at the feeling of him hardening against your hands. “Already? you’re so needy.” 

You rose to a stand, grabbing his hands to pull him to stand instead. All it took was a snap of fingers for your clothes to be gone, leaving you completely nude. 

Heeseung felt like every moment of his life had led up to this, you were his final destination. Without him noticing, he whispered one final prayer. Right when he went to recite the trinitarian formula, he noticed.  

Guilt was unforgiving but so was hesitation. He hesitated to give in earlier, but now? 

“Are you ready?” Heeseung didn’t recognize his voice anymore, a much deeper one coming out. His hands moved on their own when he pulled your legs around his waist, pushing his hips forward until his cock pressed against your lips. 

You nodded once, pushing your legs further apart as you waited for him to make the move. He looked down at you cunt in appreciation, the lord really did take his time creating you. It’s too bad that his favourite creation was going to ruin it.

Heeseung wrapped his hand around his base before giving an experimental squeeze. Heeseung had never touched himself before today, having no idea what was supposed to feel good. 

He ignored his embarrassing inexperience and used his other hand to open you up for him. His mouth watered at the sight of your bare in front of him, you looked so welcoming. 

He tried not to stare for too long because he knew that if he did he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from using his mouth first. But he’d much rather finish it all off by licking you clean, drinking everything you have to offer. 

He tapped the head of his cock against you, watching from under his eyebrows at how you reacted. From the way your hips pushed up, he knew exactly where to touch you. 

He kept his head pressed against you as he pushed down, stopping once he reached your entrance. This was the moment that would change his entire life, he was never going to be the same way he was before. 

And when he finally pushed in, his head fell forward with a loud moan. The blood of the virgin became the blood of the demon, he was no longer considered an angel in the lord's eyes. 

Your hands grabbed his biceps as he pushed in deep, his cock hitting places you’ve never felt before.  He sped up, his hips slamming against yours over and over as he grew into a routine. 

You obviously liked the way he was moving if your moans meant anything. 

“Bring me to heaven.” You managed to plead through your now real choked gasps. Your head was filled with explosions of colours, real pleasure rushing through your blood. His big cock felt too good pushing against your gummy walls, each curve of him fitting perfectly in your crevices. He was made for you. 

Heeseung sucked in a harsh breath, a teasing smile growing on his opened mouth. His eyes were now open, staring into your own as he ravished your body for what it was. 

“But you’re a demon, and we’re already here…” He let out a small grunt at his harder thrust, his eyes closing once again. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d reached this specific spot in your body, but he was certain that once he found it again he wouldn’t let it go. 

“Not that heaven-” your smile matched his as your body burned with the same flame, your impurities mixing with his. You shakily raised one of your hands up towards his face, your fingers wrapped around his jaw as you forced his face close to yours. 

His eyes opened once again, his irises now completely black as he let himself fall into the pit of pleasure. “Your heaven” Your back arched with a moan while your legs tightened around his waist.

Heeseung swore he was in love. With you, and the feeling of you. Nothing could turn him back now. He pulled your legs over his shoulder, his chest pushing away from yours as he pushed all his weight into his legs and hips. 

He pressed kiss after kiss against your ankles, biting down to create indents across your calves. He knew this angle hit deeper into you because finally, he felt that spot and and over.

Both your volumes rose into near screams when you both reached your peaks. Without thinking twice Heeseunf pressed your knees flat to your chest, his neck stretching out to bite against yours. 

Your blood filled his mouth 

Angels too sealed the mating process with a bite, but it was different. The magic was stored in each individual tooth. The pockets of their poison were located in their mamelons. And so when the angel bites into their mate, the pockets open into small needles. Three sharp needles accompanied each tooth, it was the only part of the tooth that got pushed through the skin. 

Heeseung wasn’t lying when he mentioned not craving blood, but now? His arms shook when had to pull himself away from you, the desire to drink from his new mate stronger than anything. “Thank god-“ He didn’t know what he was thanking anyone for, but he needed something to fall back on. It just happened to be the roots that caught him. 

Your broken moans were drowned out by your returning purrs, your eyes white as they rolled into the back of your head. Holy fucking shit, Heeseung marked you first?

Without allowing Heeseung to pull out you flipped him over, his back flat against the bed while you sat flush against him. He looked up through tired eyes, his mind coming back to normal as he softened inside of you. 

“Don’t thank god, he had nothing to do with this.” You growled at the angel before you released more pheromones. They seemed to do their job as he was hard again within seconds. 

You felt him throb inside of you before you rose the tiniest bit, dropping down right away.  Heeseung’s hands gripped your ass, helping your waist move forward and back with each raise and fall. 

His hips buckled to meet yours, loud slaps echoing across the room as you sunk into him over and over. Heeseung forced his head up enough to look at where the two of you were connected and god, the sight didn’t fail. 

There was a thick ring of cum formed around his base, sticky strings connecting the two of you with every new raise. He’d almost come on the spot once again, his body way more sensitive than yours due to his inexperience. 

You saw the way his face scrunched up and automatically knew that he was trying not to cum. You used your mental hold on him to remove his hands from you and pinned them by his head. 

His eyes were wide when they met yours again. He felt his heart stutter at the glare on your face. Has he done something wrong? Is he not pleasing you correctly? 

“Don’t keep anything away from me, give it all to me.” Your hips momentarily stopped, only his tip remaining in as you stared down at him. 

“Breed me.” Your quiet whisper caused an eruption of pleasure to burst through his chest. He had you lying back on your back in seconds, his instincts putting you into the mating press. 

“Don’t start what you can’t end.” He didn’t say more before he pushed into you once again. He leaned his head down to meet yours, his lips pulling your bottom one between his teeth.

He gently tugged at it once before he forced his tongue between your lips, your mouth tasting of his earlier release. “You don’t look like an angel,” He ignored the harsh look you threw at him, giving you a small smile before he pressed his lips against your pulse point. 

He breathed in a deep inhale, his body welcoming your new scent, one that was mixed with his. He bit the skin twice, the second much harder than the first before he soothed the wound with his tongue. 

He trailed small kisses up your neck, all the day until he reached your ear. He pulled your earlobe between his teeth before placing a gentle kiss against it. “But you definitely taste like one.”

[cuppajj]

Neo Beast Head cannons?

WOOWOO

✨Saint Vanilla Cookie

He’s the only one who goes wherever he wants. The other beasts are pretty stationary for the time being, but Saint’s on a mission and he will show up literally anywhere

Still loves animals and thinks they’re incapable of sinning, so they don’t get the purifying touch. It’s why raisin’s crows are still alive

Speaking of raisin, he does miss her but he thinks she’s in a better place. Calls her his martyr and talks about her like she’s still alive

He has tea every morning

It’s unknown where he sleeps when he’s traveling the world

He keeps Crepe’s headset extra clean for the day they meet each other again

❤️‍🔥Dragonberry Cookie

She is still the same old Hollyberry who loves drinking berry juice like there’s no tomorrow. She even brings pints to Neo beast meetings

Even though her pride has given her a massive superiority complex, she still views her family and even Pitaya rather fondly, though it doesn’t prevent the latter from being spared any sort of pain. She sees everything as playful until it’s not

Does frankly miss Tarte Tatin and Royal Margarine even though one or both of them has Snapdragon, who she’s trying to get her hands on

Snores

❄️Frigid Cacao Cookie

Rarely speaks but when he does it’s usually to give orders, and half of that time he asks for food

His incense always remains lit

Alongside the cookies left, sometimes the licorice sea monsters that now roam his halls act as his servants. He can also use the licorice ooze to do wacky things like teleport from one place to another

Sometimes he appears in the fog of the snow like an apparition, something you can barely see but know he’s there. It’s one of the rare sightings of him outside

Another thing he does when outside is stare at a frozen Cacaoian. Sometimes he touches the icy surface, maybe kneels. Who knows what he’s thinking?

☀️Celestial Cheese Cookie

A lot of her mannerisms are akin to white diamond from steven universe, she was actually one of the main references I used for her design

She can summon as many golden arms as she wants and they operate on hydra properties. Cutting one will grow two

Despite this, she doesn’t have the legit Midas touch where everything she touches turns to gold, she can be selective. Which is good when she wants to pet jackals

Her growing kingdom is full of converted desert inhabitants and travelers, maybe a handful of townships, and it’s remarkable how she’s been able to grow a lot from nothing. She does get a bit of an inferiority complex when comparing herself to the likes of Dragonberry, but it motivates her to conquer more

🥀Midnight Lily Cookie

She picked up playing the harp after she became queen, and she plays often. The silver fae like to gather around to listen to their queen perform, and her harp can be heard across the kingdom

She’s grown more accustomed to speaking like the silver fae as well at times, her voice songlike despite how neutral it sounds. She’ll sing as she plays the harp as well

Despite being a beast, she’s the least accepting of that name for lack of a better word. She doesn’t see herself as being corrupt, only staying true to her decisions and her sovereignty, what she believes is right for herself and everyone. It just so happens that it enables the bad to do worse, but it’s not her problem anyway.

Her kingdom is still strict to outsiders, probably on the same level as cacao. You might need an invitation inside or risk the silver fae being free to do whatever they wish with you

As I mentioned previously they operate similar to the fae (unseelie in aesthetic) so you don’t want to bother chaotic neutral creatures

The only one allowed without invitation is Saint Vanilla, who has a habit of showing up in her garden to lay among the flowers. Lily can only imagine what he thinks of when he sees her

[claramelooo]

CRIMSON REVERIE

Hey, favorites readers! How was the New Year's party, huh? I hope everyone is well and has fully recovered from hangover!!!

Thank you very much for all support and love you give me, that's what encourages me to write to you. I celebrate your lives! and I wish you a great 2025 full of achievements and growth!

Are you ready to see the big bad Scarlet Witch fucking everyone and everything? Feel free to feel horny!

Enjoy it!

Pairing: Dark!Witch Wanda X Fem Reader

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

WARNINGS: Threats and fights

Summary: After fighting with her former allies and friends, Wanda enters a new universe and makes a discovery that awakens something unknown in her.

Read here: Prologue

ENVY

The sky over Kamar-Taj was dyed red, as if reality itself were bleeding. Wild winds howled through the mountains, carried by the chaotic energy emanating from the floating figure at the center of the courtyard.

Wanda Maximoff.

The Scarlet Witch.

Her eyes burned red as she extended her hands, tracing complex runes in the air. Every motion pulsed with chaotic power, shaping the veil of the multiverse to open a portal. The air trembled around her, and even the most experienced sorcerers of Kamar-Taj stepped back, their spells powerless against her.

Her eyes glowed fiercely, a deep red pulsing like an enraged heartbeat. The runes she carved into the air were intricate, vibrant, and the very ground quaked under the force of her magic. The protective spells of Kamar-Taj unraveled like paper set aflame by an unstoppable force.

Stephen Strange hovered a few meters away, the Cloak of Levitation billowing in the wind. He faced Wanda with a mixture of determination and apprehension, the glowing circles of his magic mirroring the chaos around them. Wong stood beside him, resolute, while America Chavez lingered further back, fists clenched, tension visible in her stance.

“Wanda, this has to stop now!” Strange commanded, his voice cutting through the turmoil like a blade.

Wanda raised her gaze, a cold smile curling her lips. “Stop?” Her voice was soft, almost gentle, but carried an implicit threat. “You don’t understand, Stephen. You can’t understand. I’ve lost everything. You still have your world, your principles... and your arrogance.”

“You’re destroying everything around you!” Strange shot back, forming glowing orange circles with his hands. “The Darkhold has already corrupted a part of you. Don’t let it take the rest!”

She laughed—not with amusement, but with disdain. “Corrupt me? Stephen, I’m beyond corruption. You want to talk about loss? About sacrifice? Don’t insult me by pretending you understand.”

“I understand more than you think,” Stephen retorted, his expression hardening. “But what you’re doing here? This isn’t grief, Wanda. It’s destruction. And it won’t bring anything back.”

Wanda’s laugh echoed through the courtyard, cold and hollow, like the sound of shattering glass. “What do you know about grief, Strange? About love? Do you think pain broke me? No. Pain shaped me. And I’ll use it to fix what was stolen from me.”

“Fix?” Stephen narrowed his eyes. “You’re about to destroy countless lives. You’ve seen what the Darkhold has done to you, Wanda. You’re not fighting for love—you’re being consumed by chaos.”

Wanda’s eyes narrowed, her rage burning brighter. “I don’t need moral lectures from a man who treats the fabric of reality like his personal toy.”

Before Stephen could react, Wanda unleashed a wave of energy that hit him like a hurricane, throwing him backward. Wong and America rushed to help him, but before they could intervene, a blue flash lit up the sky.

“Wanda!” Carol Danvers’ commanding voice echoed as she descended from the heavens, her body encased in cosmic energy. Beside her, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, and Bruce Banner advanced—a united force against the Scarlet Witch.

Carol hovered in front of Wanda, her eyes glowing. “Enough. We’re not letting you go any further.”

Wanda floated above the ground like a goddess on a celestial throne, a shroud of scarlet energy enveloping her with unsettling majesty. Her predatory smile was a clear warning that she saw the heroes before her not as threats, but as obstacles to be eliminated.

“Danvers,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm and disdain. “Am I supposed to feel intimidated? Or should I thank you for bringing such a sizable audience to witness my ascension?”

Carol’s eyes narrowed, standing firm despite the crushing weight of Wanda’s energy. “This isn’t ascension. It’s destruction. And you know it.”

Wanda tilted her head, as if assessing a disobedient child. “Destruction for you, perhaps. But for me? For them? It’s justice. I told you, Carol—you barely comprehend what I’m doing.”

Natasha stepped forward, weapons at the ready but not yet firing. “Wanda, this won’t bring you peace. You’re crossing a line you can’t come back from.”

Wanda chuckled, the sound as cold as breaking glass. “Peace? Natasha, peace is a luxury for those who have everything. When you lose even hope, what remains is power. And power doesn’t demand peace—it demands purpose.”

Sam raised his shield, his voice steady. “We’re not letting you do this, Wanda. No matter how right you think you are, this isn’t how you fix the past.”

Wanda descended gracefully, every step radiating absolute control. “Fix?” She smirked, the red glow in her eyes intensifying. “You think this is about fixing the past? No, Sam. This is about shaping the future. My future.”

Raising her hands slowly, like conducting an unseen symphony, Wanda made the air around her vibrate with scarlet energy, rippling like a storm ready to erupt. “You insist on standing in my way as if you could stop me.”

Carol’s hands ignited with cosmic energy. “We can try.”

Wanda arched a brow, her smile growing more arrogant. “Oh, dear…” With a step forward, the ground cracked beneath her feet as her magic pulsed in crushing waves. “You’re here because I allow it. All of you are alive because I haven’t bothered to decide otherwise.”

Bruce stepped forward, partially transformed into the Hulk. “You’re underestimating us.”

Wanda sighed dramatically, as if bored. “Underestimating? No. I simply recognize that the power you all possess together isn’t even a fraction of what I hold alone. I think you should too.”

With a sharp motion, Wanda unleashed a wave of energy, scattering everyone like leaves in a hurricane. As they struggled to rise, she walked slowly toward Carol, her eyes locked on Captain Marvel’s.

“You’re good,” Wanda said, her voice low and menacing. “But to me, you’re nothing more than dust in the wind.”

The first strike was devastating. Carol hit Wanda with a burst of energy, but the Scarlet Witch countered with a magical shield that shattered into glowing red shards.

Sam and Hulk charged in, trying to flank her. Wanda responded with icy precision, creating illusions to disorient Sam while ensnaring Hulk in magical chains that tightened like steel.

“You’re wasting your time!” Wanda shouted, her voice echoing through the courtyard. “I didn’t come to play. I came to win.”

Stephen re-entered the fray, casting intricate spells that wove together like nets aimed at Wanda. She dodged with fluid movements, each gesture a testament to her mastery.

“You’ll never get what you want, Wanda!” Stephen yelled.

She stopped, her eyes blazing. “And who’s going to stop me? You?”

As the Avengers and Stephen struggled to hold her off, Wanda finally gathered enough energy to activate the spell. A massive circle of glowing runes appeared in the sky, spinning slowly as the veil of the multiverse began to tear.

America Chavez’s eyes widened, sensing the shift in reality. “This is bad!”

“No… this is perfect,” Wanda replied, before releasing a wave of energy that threw everyone back, erecting a magical barrier around her.

Stephen yelled, fighting to break through the barrier. “If you step through that portal, Wanda, there’s no coming back!”

She looked at him one last time, determination burning in her eyes. “I don’t need to come back, Strange. I need to go where they are.”

With a final motion, the portal fully opened, its distorted light flooding the courtyard. Wanda stepped forward, her silhouette dissolving into the glow as the barrier collapsed.

“WANDA!” Stephen shouted, but it was too late.

She disappeared into the portal.

[...]

Wanda emerged from the portal in silence, her feet touching the soft ground of a peaceful landscape. The sound of children's laughter caught her attention immediately, like a beacon amid the chaos that always surrounded her. Tommy and Billy.

She followed the sound with hesitant steps, almost afraid of what she might find. But when she saw her sons running through the garden of a simple house, playing among the flowers and laughter, her heart nearly stopped. They were there. Real. Alive.

Without thinking, Wanda began walking toward them, tears streaming freely down her face. "Tommy... Billy..." she whispered, her voice breaking. Her desire to hold them, to feel their arms around her, was so strong she almost forgot everything around her.

But then, she stopped.

You were there.

You were crouched on the lawn, laughing as Billy tried to reach you with a flower he had picked. Your smile was wide, warm, and Wanda felt her chest tighten at the way Tommy held your hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Who is she? The question exploded in Wanda's mind. A sudden rage coursed through her, burning like fire in her veins. You looked so... comfortable, so at ease. As if you were their mother. As if they were your children.

For a moment, Wanda took a step forward, her fists clenched as faint red energy began to pulse around her. But then, something unexpected happened. Her eyes fell on your belly.

Round. Full of life. You were pregnant.

Wanda froze, unable to look away. Her breath caught in her throat. Pregnant? By whom? How? It was such an unexpected sight that her rage momentarily dissolved, replaced by overwhelming curiosity.

And then, Wanda saw something that made the world around her come to a halt.

The door of the house opened, and she stepped out.

It was like looking into a mirror, but the reflection seemed... wrong. Or perhaps too right. This Wanda was different. Her posture was relaxed, her face glowing with a serenity the Scarlet Witch hadn’t felt in a long time. There were no Darkhold markings on her fingers, no shadows of loss in her eyes.

She seemed whole.

The Scarlet Witch felt a pang of envy so strong it nearly made her stagger. This was the life she should have had. But the next scene left her even more confused.

The other Wanda walked straight to you, a wide smile on her lips. You stood, laughing at something Tommy had said, and immediately leaned in to kiss her.

The kiss was deep, passionate, yet filled with tenderness. The other Wanda's hands held your face with a familiarity that made the Scarlet Witch’s heart race uncontrollably.

She, herself, was with you.

Wanda’s eyes widened, and for a moment, she forgot everything—even the boys. She had never imagined herself with a woman. There had always been Vision, his love like a rock for her. But he wasn’t here. You were.

And what was even more disturbing was the way it made her feel.

She tried to understand what was happening. Why was her heart racing? Why couldn’t she take her eyes off you? The way you smiled at the other Wanda, how your hands slid so naturally around her waist, how your belly pressed against the other Wanda’s body... It was all so intimate, so warm.

And then came the desire.

It was sudden, unexpected, and it struck Wanda like a storm. She had never looked at another woman like this before, but there was something about you—your presence, your confidence, the way you seemed to carry the world yet still be so full of light—that unsettled her.

The kiss ended, but you didn’t fully pull away. Your hand moved to the back of the other Wanda’s neck, gently stroking it as you murmured something Wanda couldn’t hear. But the other Wanda’s smile, the way she leaned in to rest her forehead against yours, said it all.

You were in love.

And it left Wanda with even more questions. Where was Vision? How had you come into her life? And, most importantly, why did the Scarlet Witch want this as much as she wanted the boys?

As the scene played out before her, Wanda couldn’t decide what was stronger: the envy or the desire.

Maybe it was both.

The afternoon was serene, with the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze blending with the laughter of Tommy and Billy. The other Wanda sat on the grass with you while the boys ran around, tossing a ball back and forth. Your visibly large belly rested partially on the other Wanda’s lap, as she absentmindedly caressed it.

The Scarlet Witch, hidden behind a nearby tree, watched with clenched fists, struggling to process the scene. She couldn’t tear her eyes away.

“Hey, Mamma, what does Seline mean?” Billy suddenly asked, stopping his game to sit beside you. He looked genuinely curious, gazing at your belly as if he could see his sister through it.

The other Wanda smiled, pulling Tommy and Billy closer before answering. “Seline means ‘magical moon,’” she explained, her voice soft and full of affection. “When you two were babies, I used to say you were like the sun and the stars of my life. But when I thought of her... I wanted something calm and protective. Something that lights up the night.”

“So she’s like... our guardian?” Tommy asked, his eyes sparkling with the thought.

“Exactly,” you replied, laughing as you ruffled his hair. “Seline will be the little sister who’s always there for you, just as you’ll be there for her. You’ll be the most amazing brothers in the world.”

Wanda, still hidden, felt a pang in her chest. They even had a special meaning for her name. The way that Wanda spoke—so light, so natural—made it seem like nothing in the world could disrupt them. She had never thought of something so poetic, so thoughtful.

As she watched, jealousy burned hotter inside her, suffocating and unrelenting. Why were they so happy? Why was this version of herself so complete, so loved?

“She’ll like us, right?” Billy asked, tilting his head toward you, uncertainty shining in his eyes.

“She already loves you,” you answered, chuckling softly. “Every time she kicks, it’s like she’s saying, ‘I can’t wait to meet my brothers!’”

“And she kicks a lot,” the other Wanda added, smiling as she ran her hand over the side of your belly. “Especially when you sing to her.”

“That’s because I’m a good singer,” Billy declared with a tone of confidence that made everyone laugh.

“You’re a good singer... sometimes,” Tommy countered, laughing as he gave his brother a playful shove.

“Hey, no fighting,” the other Wanda said, her voice firm yet tender. She glanced at you, her tone softening. “Seline is lucky to have these two, don’t you think?”

You nodded, placing your hand over hers. “She’s lucky to have you.”

Wanda, hidden away, felt the breath leave her lungs. Watching you say that to herself in another universe made her stomach twist.

The other Wanda leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes, smiling, and whispered something Wanda couldn’t hear. But the effect was devastating: the other Wanda laughed, a sound so full of joy it seemed to make the world glow around her.

The Scarlet Witch clenched her fists until her nails dug into her palms. She had never felt like this before. It wasn’t just jealousy. It was something deeper. It was the crushing realization that she was out of place, watching something that should have been hers.

Tommy and Billy are hers. Seline is hers. You are hers!

“And when Seline is born, will we be able to play with her?” Tommy asked, breaking the moment.

“Not right away,” you replied with a smile. “She’ll be small and fragile at first. But soon, she’ll grow, and she’ll love playing with you. Just promise me one thing.”

“Anything,” Billy said seriously.

“Promise me you’ll always protect her.”

The two boys nodded immediately, their faces full of determination. “We promise,” they said in unison.

The other Wanda smiled, looking at you with eyes filled with something the Scarlet Witch recognized instantly: love. “And I’ll protect all of you,” she said softly.

“Like a superhero?” Tommy asked, laughing.

“Something like that,” the other Wanda replied, winking at him.

As the family laughed and talked, Wanda remained in the shadows, frozen. Every word, every gesture, every smile was like a blade cutting deep. They were perfect together.

And you...

You were everything she never realized she needed.

Your belly, full of life; your laughter, so full of light; the way your eyes sparkled when you looked at the other Wanda. Everything about you pulled her in, drew her closer, even as it tore her apart.

You should be with her. You should be hers.

[...]

The night was silent, but not for Wanda. She walked through the dark hallway of the house, guided by a deep and painful instinct. She stopped in front of the boys' room and, with a gentle gesture, opened the door just enough to peek inside.

There they were, Tommy and Billy, sleeping deeply, their serene faces illuminated only by the soft light of the lamp. They looked so at peace that Wanda's heart tightened.

She entered the room quietly, her breath heavy with emotion. She knelt beside their beds, first Billy's, then Tommy's, and placed a gentle kiss on their foreheads. "My boys..." she whispered, her voice breaking as tears ran down her face.

As she stood up, she tried to contain her sobs, but couldn't help it. She quickly wiped her tears, hearing voices from the room next door.

The voices were familiar. Her own voice mixed with hers. The soft laughter and calm words made Wanda bite her lip, hesitant. She shouldn't, but she couldn't resist. Curiosity was a poison, and she was already intoxicated.

She approached the room and, carefully, opened the door just enough to see the two of you.

You were lying on the bed, your back supported by pillows. The other Wanda was sitting at the foot of the bed, her legs in your lap. Her hands were gently sliding over your feet, massaging with a touch that seemed to have years of practice.

"You didn't have to do this, you know," you said, your tone full of affection and a slight touch of teasing.

"You're carrying our daughter, Y/n," the other Wanda replied, a smile playing at her lips. "When it was my turn, you did so much more. The least I can do is make sure you feel good."

You laughed, a sound that made Wanda hold her breath behind the door.

"I know this is just an excuse for you to touch me," you teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe it is," admitted the other Wanda, a mischievous smile forming as she continued the massage.

"And what do you want in exchange for all this kindness, Ms. Maximoff?" you asked, your voice low and playful.

The other Wanda let out a soft laugh and looked at you with eyes full of tenderness. "I just want you to rest and let me take care of you. Nothing more."

Outside, the Sorceress watched, unable to look away. The scene seemed so simple, so ordinary, but to her, it was extraordinary.

She had never experienced this before.

The way you looked at the other Wanda, with so much love and trust. The care in every gesture she made, the security in every word. It all seemed so natural, so easy.

Wanda felt the tears threatening to fall again, but this time it was a different kind of emotion. Envy and longing. The desire to touch you, to make you laugh like that. The desire to be the one who made you feel so at ease, so loved.

"What are you thinking now?" you asked, interrupting the other Wanda's thoughts.

The other Wanda paused for a moment, her fingers still holding your feet. Then, with a soft smile, she replied, "I'm thinking about how much I love you. And how I can't wait to meet our daughter."

You fell silent, your eyes filling with tears as you reached out to touch her face.

"I love you too, Wanda. So much," you said, your voice low and full of emotion.

The other Wanda leaned in, kissing your belly softly before whispering, "And I love you too, Seline."

Outside, Wanda felt something inside her both break and rebuild at the same time. She wanted this. Her insides screamed with the need to have it all for herself, and she would do anything to have it.

The night was silent when Wanda left the room, leaving you asleep with a serene expression. She descended the stairs with light steps, but as soon as she reached the living room, a chilling cold ran down her spine.

"Finally decided to show up," a familiar, cold voice echoed from the darkness.

The copy spun quickly, her eyes glowing with surprise and tension. There she was—the Scarlet Witch, cloaked in a red energy, her eyes burning like embers.

"What are you?" the other Wanda asked, trying to maintain composure, but her tense posture betrayed her concern.

The Scarlet Witch smiled cruelly, tilting her head. "I am you. But perhaps the version you've been avoiding being."

The other Wanda took a step back, her fists clenched. "You're in the wrong place. There's nothing for you here."

"Oh, but there is," said the Witch, stepping forward, each movement filled with threat. "I came for my children."

The other Wanda paused for a moment before replying, narrowing her eyes. "My sons. My wife. My daughter. You have no right here!"

The witch laughed bitterly, her voice low and laden with pain. "And do you? How did someone like you manage to get all of this? They don't even know who you really are, do they? They don't even know half of what you can do."

The other Wanda stood firm. "They don't need to know. Because here, I'm just Wanda. I'm a mother, a wife. That's enough."

"Lie!" the Witch snarled, anger overflowing. "You can pretend to be normal, but we both know that isn't who we are. And you know what's worse? You're wasting it... on her." The Scarlet Witch's voice cracked at the mention of you.

"Why her?" the Witch asked, her voice wavering between anger and something that almost sounded like vulnerability. "What makes her so special? Why not Vision? Why not the family that was always ours?"

The other Wanda hesitated for a moment, then answered firmly.

"Because with her, I'm happy. With her, I'm not just a mother. Y/n challenges me, teases me, makes me want to beat her, break her, and win her over again and again just for a kiss. She can be fire, but she can also be the breeze in the heat when I see everything in red. She loves me for who I am, not for what I could be. She completes me in a way I never thought possible."

The Scarlet Witch felt a tightness in her chest, envy growing like an overwhelming wave. "That's absurd! Vision was perfect. He was... everything."

The other Wanda sighed, a sad smile touching her lips. "Vision was my first love. He taught me what it meant to be seen, to be loved. But with her... it's different. It's not about perfection. It's not about saving or being saved. It's about living."

She stepped forward, ignoring the look of pure jealousy that burned in the Witch's eyes.

"With her, I don't need to hide who I am. I don't need to be the Scarlet Witch. I don't need to fight the world. I just... am. And that's enough."

The words cut deep into the Scarlet Witch, like sharp knives slicing through an already open wound. What hurt her the most wasn't what the other Wanda said, but how much it made sense.

She had never felt this before. She had always been the protector, the savior, the villain. Vision loved her, but she could never just be Wanda beside him. There were always responsibilities, secrets, sacrifices.

She tried to speak, but the envy and jealousy were overwhelming, burning in her chest like fire. "You... you had everything. Vision. The boys. Why wasn't it enough?"

The other Wanda looked at her with soft eyes, but her voice was as hard as steel. "Because it wasn't real. And you know that better than anyone."

The Witch felt the blow, as if she had been punched in the stomach.

"But why her?" the Scarlet Witch screamed, her voice cracking with the intensity of her emotions. "Why not me!? I could give her all of that. I am you! I... I could be who you are for her!"

The other Wanda hesitated for a moment, her eyes assessing the figure in front of her. She could see the anger, the desperation, but also something else: a vulnerability she recognized as her own.

"You don't understand, do you?" The other Wanda sighed, shaking her head. "She doesn't love me for who I should be. She loves me for who I am. And you..." She hesitated, carefully choosing her words. "You don't know who you are anymore. Not completely."

These words were the final blow. The Scarlet Witch felt her body tremble, the anger mixing with a pain she could barely bear.

Her face softened for a moment, and she murmured, almost to herself: "I wish I knew what that was like. To be loved like that. Not for my powers. Not for who I was before. But by someone who sees everything — even the broken parts — and loves me anyway."

The other Wanda remained silent, as if considering saying something, but she knew that any word would only make things worse.

The Scarlet Witch closed her eyes, hot tears streaming down her face as she tried to contain the growing pain within her. "I just wanted... this." She looked at the other Wanda again, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of anger and desperation. "You had that, and now it's my turn!"

With a quick movement, the Scarlet Witch cast a spell that wrapped the other Wanda in chains of red energy, binding her.

"I'll be what she needs," she said, her voice cold and determined.

The other Wanda struggled, but the chains were too strong. "You don't understand," she gasped. "You can try to be like me, but you'll never be enough. She'll know. She'll feel it."

The Scarlet Witch smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes. "Don't be selfish!"

With a gesture, she opened a portal, throwing the other Wanda into a distant universe, far away from you and the boys. As the portal closed, the Scarlet Witch took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside her. Now, everything was in her hands.

She turned toward the hallway, where her new life awaited, but the weight of envy and jealousy still burned in her chest.

Why her? Why now? Those questions burned in her mind, a cacophony of desire and rage. She had always been the Scarlet Witch — feared, revered, invincible. But before you, it seemed she was none of those things. Before you, she was just Wanda, a broken woman yearning for something that seemed so simple, yet so impossible: to be loved.

To be loved for who she truly was, not for the legend, not for the power, not for the terror her name invoked. She wanted someone who saw the truth behind the mask, who touched the sharp fragments of her being without fear of being hurt. And you... you seemed to be that person. Your presence challenged everything she believed about herself, about love, about the world.

But with that light came a shadow darker than any magic Wanda had ever conjured. The desire to possess, to trap, to make you hers — only hers. It wasn’t fair. The universe had never been fair with her, and now, faced with the chance of something real, she refused to let it slip away.

~*~

I have a thing for a mega ultra powerful women, sorry... I think I'm guilty for this time.

Tag List <3

Tag list <3

@vyvvycg @rosekjsses @3liyuh @trindad2k

@indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher

@idkwhatever580 @valentine585

@reginassecretlover @trying-to-do-good

@imjustvibingsworld @mbxoxo @jazzyxqzl @bees-for-brains @eternallyconfuzed @ctrlaltedits @sheriffhaughtearp

@lesbiansweet @i-luv-w1men @sheriffswan-blog @htinha157 @syssmin @wandasslut3000

[boy-in-red-dress]

HEAR ME OUT, so I made a list of Ford and Bill's character traits and how they compliment each other. Ford and Bill's relationship is a rather interesting and twisted dynamic which is one of the reasons why I like them a lot. So let's start with my interpretation of the two characters...

Stanford Pines

He a deeply intricate character, shaped by a life that have left him both brilliant and broken. Born as one of two twins, Ford’s life has been a constant struggle with self-worth and identity. His intelligence and curiosity set him apart from others, but they also isolated him, creating a sense of loneliness. This isolation was only deepened by his complex relationship with his twin brother, Stanley. Ford’s need to prove himself became a driving force in his life. Yet, it was never simply about proving his worth; it was about escaping the deep-seated feelings of jealousy, shame, and guilt that had haunted him since childhood.

Ford's brilliance, however, is matched by his flaws. His obsession with knowledge and understanding the unknown led him down dangerous paths, often pushing away those who cared for him. The rift with his brother, born out of both love and rivalry, is a central part of his character. Which is why (if you've read some of my work on ao3) I put the fact Ford thinks about Stan often.

Despite his vast intellect, Ford’s emotional intelligence often lags behind, making him susceptible to manipulation and leading him to make decisions that are sometimes cold and calculating. He is a man who is willing to risk everything—even his own humanity—for the sake of discovery and the pursuit of what he believes is right and what could do good for the world. This single-minded determination, while admirable, also reveals his vulnerability. His self-imposed isolation and his relentless drive to prove his worth have left him with a fragile sense of self that is easily shattered when confronted with his own limitations. Speaking of his limitations, that's where Bill comes in. To make Ford go beyond the limits of his human capabilities.

Bill Cipher

He's a being of pure chaos and malevolence, contrasts Ford's character in almost every conceivable way. Where Ford is driven by a desire for knowledge and understanding, Bill is driven by a desire for power and control. Bill’s complexity lies in his unpredictability and his capacity for manipulation. He is a master of deception, able to twist the desires and fears of others to suit his own ends. Unlike Ford, who is bound by his human emotions and flaws, Bill is unrestrained, reveling in the chaos he creates. He lacks empathy, seeing others only as tools to be used or obstacles to be destroyed. His lack of morality and his enjoyment of others' suffering make him a truly terrifying entity to come across.

BUT. They have similarities, too. Stay with me.

1. Intellectual Curiosity and Ambition

Both Ford and Bill possess an insatiable curiosity and a relentless drive to uncover the secrets of the universe. For Ford, this curiosity is rooted in a genuine desire to understand the unknown, to push the boundaries of human knowledge, and to make his mark on the world. His intellect is one of his defining traits, and it’s what led him to explore other dimensions and study the mysteries of Gravity Falls.

Similarly, Bill is driven by a desire to know and control everything. His curiosity, however, is twisted by his malevolent nature; it’s less about understanding and more about exploiting knowledge for his own gain. Bill’s intellectual prowess is evident in how he manipulates others, devises complex plans (or impulsive plans), and navigates the multiverse with ease. His fascination with the workings of the universe mirrors Ford’s own, but where Ford seeks to understand, Bill seeks to dominate and corrupt.

2. Rejection of Limitations

Both characters reject the limitations imposed on them by their respective worlds. Ford’s entire life has been a struggle against the boundaries set by society, by his family, and even by his own humanity. His six-fingered hands marked him as different from a young age, and this difference fueled his determination to transcend the ordinary. Ford’s rejection of these limitations led him to create the portal, opening a gateway to other dimensions, and ultimately, to his fateful encounter with Bill.

Bill, too, rejects any form of limitation. As a being from the Nightmare Realm, Bill refuses to be confined by the rules of any single dimension. His very nature is one of rebellion against order and constraint. He sees limitations as challenges to be overcome, often through manipulation and force. This shared disdain for boundaries creates a unique parallel between the two: Ford, the man who defied his world to expand his knowledge, and Bill, the demon who seeks to break the rules of reality itself.

3. A Sense of Superiority

Ford and Bill both harbor a sense of superiority, though it manifests differently in each. Ford’s superiority is intellectual; he knows he is smarter than most people around him, and this often leads him to act alone, believing that only he can solve the problems he encounters. This mindset can make him seem arrogant or dismissive, particularly when dealing with those who don’t share his level of understanding.

Bill’s sense of superiority, on the other hand, is rooted in his power and knowledge. He views himself as above all others, not just because of his intelligence, but because of his status as an interdimensional being. Bill sees humans as insignificant creatures to be toyed with, and he revels in the chaos he can create among them. His superiority complex is part of what makes him so dangerous; he genuinely believes that no one can match him, which drives his desire to control and manipulate.

4. Isolation and Loneliness

Both Ford and Bill are, in their own ways, deeply isolated figures. Ford’s intellectual pursuits and his strained relationship with his brother have left him lonely, often feeling like he is the only one who can understand or solve the mysteries he uncovers. This isolation is both self-imposed and a consequence of his choices; Ford often distances himself from others to protect them or to keep them from slowing him down.

Bill, despite his power, is also a fundamentally lonely being. His existence as a demon is one of isolation; he is a creature of chaos in a universe that generally strives for order. His interactions with others are almost entirely manipulative, and he lacks genuine connections. This loneliness could be a driving force behind his desire to dominate and destroy—if he cannot be understood or accepted, then he will make the world bend to his will instead.

5. Obsession with Control

Control is another trait that both Ford and Bill share, though their methods and motivations differ. Ford’s obsession with control stems from his fear of the unknown and his need to protect those he cares about. After his experiences with Bill, this need becomes even more pronounced, as Ford understands the dangers that lurk beyond the veil of reality. His attempts to control situations, however, often lead to unintended consequences, and his desire to keep everything under control can sometimes cause more harm than good.

Bill’s obsession with control is far more malevolent. He doesn’t just want control—he wants total domination. Bill thrives on bending others to his will, on twisting reality to suit his desires. His manipulation of Ford is a key example of this; by gaining control over Ford, Bill was able to bring chaos to the world in ways that would have been impossible otherwise. For Bill, control is both a means to an end and the ultimate goal itself.

Conclusion: A Complex Relationship

The similarities between Ford and Bill make their relationship all the more complex and tragic. Ford’s intellectual curiosity, his desire to break free from limitations, his sense of superiority, and his isolation all made him an ideal target for Bill’s manipulation. At the same time, these shared traits create a twisted mirror image between the two—Bill literally represents the dark potential of Ford’s own qualities, turned towards destruction rather than discovery. That is if you look at it that way.

Together, they form a complicated pair: Ford, the man who seeks to protect and understand, and Bill, the demon who seeks to control and destroy. Their similarities make them more than just adversaries; they are reflections of each other’s strengths and flaws, locked in a struggle that is as much about their own identities as it is about the fate of the world. This dynamic is what makes their interactions so compelling and their conflict so deeply resonant, as each tries to outmaneuver the other while grappling with the very qualities that make them who they are.

I want to lick these senior citizens— WHAT WHO SAID TJAT

[antispopausandstuff]

Adora's Underwritten Psyche

.

list of unexplored, underdeveloped opportunities granted that the writers didn't take for their main ( keyword - main ) protagonist:

being the next poster child of the Horde, desiring Shadow Weaver and Hordak's approval.

Shadow Weaver putting not only the responsibility, but the life of another child ( a volatile one, at that ) in her hands when Adora herself was, at most, 10 years old.

her promotion of Force Captain, which would mean she would be responsible for more lives, while she herself is still a child.

being different from her peers for unknown reasons, and being antagonized for it from a young age ( by Catra ).

constantly having to cater to Catra's person, often including her mood swings and sadism, to either avoid conflict or to make Catra happier.

not only her entire world being turned upside down, but having to fight the only people she knew as family.

being so incredibly sheltered and manipulated that she doesn't even know what an aunt or a party is, showing she was completely unable to have even a modicum of an actual childhood.

not knowing her own culture, home planet, people, biological family, if they ever wanted her, and being given away.

Mara. Mara.

Catra's repeated, increasingly violent betrayals, her hypocrisies, manipulations, etc. after abandoning Adora, while claiming she was the one who was abandoned.

likely feeling even more responsible for Glimmer, Bow, and Angella's lives, a part of it out of immense guilt.

being repeatedly harassed // stalked and assaulted by Catra.

being repeatedly harassed // stalked by Shadow Weaver.

Entrapta's "death". and her betrayal.

being drugged, kidnapped, and essentially nearly "leashed" by Catra.

the Portal. Corrupted Catra. everything.

Angella's sacrifice. with her Atlas complex, there's no way Adora should've been as stable as she was after seeing someone, quite literally, for all she knew, die for her.

Glimmer blaming her. i get it, but it felt like the show quickly made it so that Adora was more upset about not being enough for her than the fact that, y'know, she was the only one blamed for someone's, let alone Angella's, death.

the Heart of Etheria.

Horde Prime's invasion. you cannot convince me she wouldn't feel at least somewhat responsible for that.

Horde Prime telling her, to her face, that Eternia was gone.

Catra being back in her life.

Chipped Catra. no, not for shipping angst reasons.

Catra antagonizing her again, for literally no reason.

Melog being the last of their kind, Adora being the last of hers. maybe not psyche-related, but it certainly should've affected her way more than it did ( which was p much not at all ).

Shadow Weaver. oh, wait, sorry, i forgot that only Catra has trauma related to Shadow Weaver /s.

the Failsafe.

Catra antagonizing her for the umpteenth time, for no reason.

Catra abandoning her, for no reason.

the Failsafe.

but she's just a dumb jock lesbian who's in love with Catra, right? that's alllll that matters. /s.

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

I would like to request romantic yandere scott summers x reader where his darling has amnesia. Now I don’t know how they got amnesia but scott brings reader home from the hospital one day and takes reader home claiming the reader is his wife or husband( gender does not matter), even though they were not married before. Scott takes advantage of the fact reader has amnesia, I would also have to assume they are not at the mansion so scott can do his yandere doings

BAG OF BONES

Synopsis. You remembered nothing, not even your name, yet he wove stories with threads of gold and promises. His voice, a refuge; his gaze, a cage. He claimed to love you like never before, like always. How could you doubt someone who swore to be your everything, even if his love felt like a prison disguised as home?

pairing ── Yandere! Scott Summers x Amnesiac! Reader.

Content. MDNI ── Dark themes, violence/death, blood, retrograde amnesia, forced marriage, inappropriate touching, insolation, invasion of privacy, kidnapping?, Slight mention of pregnancy, delusion, Angst, murdering, Disturbing Content, Death of a canonical character, lgbt?, Unhealthy Obsession, Gaslight, Mental Illness, Corruption, Isolation, Paranoia, Manipulation.

A/N ── English is not my first language—Spanish— Honestly, I've always been interested in the Yandere x Amnesiac theme. It's really fascinating how the psychology of the characters can be so complex in these types of stories. Also, thank you for being clear and concise in your request, and I hope you enjoy it.

They say one should never try to go back to the past, that the present is where we must live and the future what we must build. But how could you do that when you felt a piercing emptiness in your chest, a pain you didn’t understand? Your heart screamed that something was wrong, that what you were experiencing wasn’t real, that danger lurked closer than you could imagine.

The white glare of the hospital lights blinded you as you opened your eyes. You felt your body heavy, your mind clouded, and an absolute bewilderment that made you tremble. Everything felt strange, as if you were a piece out of place in an unknown puzzle. Then you saw him.

A tall man, with a firm build, wearing burgundy glasses that hid his eyes but not his excited expression. His smile lit up upon seeing you awake, and before you could say anything, his lips pressed against your forehead, your cheeks, your hair, leaving desperate and anxious kisses.

“Thank God you’re okay,” he whispered with a warm, relieved voice.

But you weren’t. You remembered nothing. Not even your name. Confusion filled you, and words wouldn’t come to your lips. He, however, seemed to have all the answers.

“I’m Scott Summers, do you remember me?” he said, taking your hand gently. His fingers were warm, but the way he squeezed them made you feel trapped—“We just got married.”

Married? The impact left you breathless. You looked at your hands, and there it was: a beautiful diamond ring along with a wedding band. Its shine seemed to confirm his words. When you looked up, you saw he wore a similar set on his left hand.

“I... don’t remember...” you started to say, but he shook his head gently.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re alive, and that’s all that matters. I’ll take care of you.”

His voice was sweet, reassuring, and you decided to believe him. Why wouldn’t you? Everything seemed to fit: the ring, the familiarity in his gestures, the way he looked at you. But deep inside, there was something you couldn’t silence.

There was something in his smile, something in the way his fingers never stopped touching you, that made you feel exposed. Vulnerable. Like you were a butterfly trapped in a display case, admired but with no escape.

How naïve you were to think that warmth meant safety.

When he took you to what he said was your home, the confusion inside you grew heavier, more oppressive. It was a small cabin in the midst of a lush forest, completely isolated from the rest of the world. Scott explained that the distance was necessary, that you had always preferred the tranquility of nature, away from societal judgment, especially for what you were: a mutant.

“You used to say that here you could be yourself,” he murmured with a smile as he parked the car. His words were warm, but they sounded strange.

As he guided you through the house, you noticed how his explanations seemed overly rehearsed, almost mechanical. The master bedroom was cozy, with dark wooden furniture and a large bed, but there was something unsettling in how orderly everything was, as if you had never truly lived there.

“This is the guest room,” he said as he opened a door. The space was filled with tools and paint, as if it were in the process of being transformed—“I’m preparing it for something special.”

You didn’t ask for what. There was something in his tone that dissuaded you from doing so.

The kitchen, however, came with a warning. “Don’t enter here without me, okay? I want to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.”

“Hurt myself?” The phrase hung in your mind as he showed you the rest of the house. Finally, you arrived at the living room, the space that unsettled you the most.

It was a mix of museum and altar. There were photos of you everywhere: smiling, reading, walking in a park you didn’t recognize. Some included Scott, his arm always firmly around your shoulders, and others showed a group of people who seemed unfamiliar yet strangely familiar.

In one of the photos, a group dressed in flamboyant, almost theatrical clothes stood out. It was a mosaic of colors and textures that evoked something lost on the edge of your memory. In the image, you were in a corner, embraced by a young woman with pink glasses who seemed a few years younger than you. On your other side, a brown-haired woman with white streaks smiled subtly, though she didn’t touch you. She seemed close, important.

However, what caught your attention the most wasn’t any of them, but a figure in the background, almost hidden behind Scott. A woman with bright red hair who seemed to look at the man with particular intensity. The photo was slightly blurry, as if someone had manipulated it or neglected it on purpose.

“Who is she?” you asked, pointing at the blurred figure before you could stop yourself.

Scott tensed immediately. His smile vanished for an instant before returning, though more forced. “Oh, just someone from the past. It doesn’t matter now. The only thing that matters is you and how happy we are together.”

You didn’t press. His response wasn’t enough, but something in his gaze told you that pushing was dangerous.

That night, as you tried to sleep, doubts burned inside you. Who was that woman? Why couldn’t you remember anything about your life, not even the people in those photos? And above all, why did every time you looked at Scott, the weight in your chest grew heavier, as if you were trapped in a gilded cage?

You didn’t love Scott. You couldn’t. Maybe you had at some point, but if that was the case, that love didn’t survive the accident that erased your memories. Now, he was a stranger, and his constant need for contact suffocated you. Scott wasn’t just clingy; he was voracious. Every caress felt like an indelible mark on your skin, every kiss a reminder that you weren’t free.

He adored being glued to you, almost as if he feared you would disappear if he let go. He insisted on bathing you, choosing your clothes and dressing you, his fingers grazing your skin more than necessary. He prepared every meal with devotion and served it to you as if you were a deity to be worshipped. But even those gestures, so carefully disguised as love, carried a shadow you couldn’t ignore.

“I want you to feel cared for, protected,” he would tell you with a smile as he brushed your hair. His words were sweet, but the way he said them was unsettling, as if he were convincing himself more than you.

Days passed in suffocating routines and deafening silence. Scott took you outdoors, around the cabin, making sure not to stray too far. He said it was for your safety, but you knew that wasn’t true. Every time you looked at the forest, so vast and full of possibilities, you felt a growing urge to run, to escape, even though you didn’t know where to go.

And then the flashes began.

At first, they were fleeting images, fragments that emerged when you least expected them. A smile that wasn’t from Scott. A soft laugh. Bright green eyes framed by fiery red hair. The woman from the photo.

Every time those memories surfaced, a sharp pain pierced your head, as if your mind struggled to protect you from something you didn’t want to know. But the most disturbing thing wasn’t the woman, but how you saw her: standing next to Scott, his hand in hers, their lips forming words you couldn’t hear. Happy. United. Almost as if…

No.

The first day you had that memory, you screamed in the middle of breakfast. The spoon fell from your hands as you instinctively recoiled in your chair. Scott was beside you in an instant, his hands firm on your shoulders, his eyes hidden behind glasses but his face filled with concern.

“What’s wrong, love? Are you okay?”

“I... I...” You tried to explain, but the words wouldn’t come. All you could do was look at his hands, those same hands that in your visions touched another woman with the same devotion as they now touched you.

Scott frowned, his expression darkening for a moment before a nervous smile returned to his face. “It’s just your mind playing tricks on you. It’s normal, sweetheart. Take a moment.”

But it wasn’t. And you knew it.

That night, as you brushed your teeth, the mirror in front of you trembled. Not from any external movement, but because your mind was slowly breaking, releasing pieces of a puzzle you were just beginning to recognize. A flash hit you, as if a storm were dragging you to another time.

She was there, the red-haired woman you had seen before, but this time she wasn’t a blurry image. Her laughter was warm, almost contagious, and you were next to her, shy, with a small smile that barely dared to emerge. Her hand rested gently on your arm while the other figures around you joined in the conversation.

The dark-haired woman with white streaks watched you with a mischievous look, an eyebrow raised as she crossed her arms. Beside her, a young woman with pink glasses laughed loudly, patting your shoulder as if she had known you forever. Nearby, another tall woman, with deep eyes and a majestic demeanor, looked at you with a mix of understanding and affection. They all seemed to encourage something, their animated voices like a chaotic melody you could barely comprehend.

“He’s a good man,” one of them said, her tone firm but kind. “He adores you!” exclaimed the youngest, with a beaming smile. “Just go and have a little fun.”

But not all were so enthusiastic. The red-haired woman didn’t share their laughter or their words of encouragement. Her expression was softer, almost melancholic, and her eyes met yours for a long moment. When the others dispersed, she stepped closer to you.

Her hands took yours, warm and steady, and for a moment you felt more protected than you had in a long time. She didn’t say anything at first, just hugged you tightly, her embrace speaking more than any words. Leaning toward your ear, her voice was a whisper, but her words were etched into your memory.

“You have my blessings…” Her breath was shaky, and you felt her fingers tighten slightly on your back—“And I love you.”

You stepped back slightly to look at her, but her smile seemed like a mask. There was something in her eyes you couldn’t understand at that moment, something that hurt you in a strange way.

The memory faded as quickly as it came, leaving you standing in front of the mirror, gasping. You gripped the edge of the sink, your fingers white from the pressure. Your reflection seemed distant, as if it weren’t yours.

Who was she? What did it all mean? And above all, why did her face, her voice, her embrace fill you with a warmth that made Scott’s love feel cold and forced?

The mirror in front of you trembled as you hit it with your hands, gasping, your pupils dilated with terror. Your reflection didn’t look like you. It was a broken version, trapped in a life you didn’t understand.

Scott appeared behind you like a ghost, his hands wrapping around your waist firmly. His warm breath on your neck made you shiver.

“You look tired, love. Let me take care of you.”

The first time you saw him in full clarity was in a dream, or so you thought when you woke up, gasping and with your body soaked in cold sweat.

You were in a dark and damp room, the air heavy with the metallic smell of blood. Your hands trembled as you held a fragile, cold, lifeless body: a woman with red hair, now dulled and stuck to her pale face. Blood stained her lips and flowed from multiple wounds on her chest, as if something had pierced her repeatedly. They weren’t normal wounds; they were small, irregular caves, burned by a heat that couldn’t be human.

Jean. Her name hit you like lightning. Jean. Now you knew, and the weight of that name on your chest made you sob as you held her against you, trying, futilely, to cover the wounds with your hands.

“No... no, please, wake up...” Your voice was a desperate whisper, broken, a lament in the void.

The sound of footsteps behind you made your body tense. You recognized them before turning around. Their walk was unmistakable: confident, calculated, almost victorious.

Scott was there. His figure was silhouetted against the dim light, his burgundy glasses shining with an unsettling glow. His face showed no sadness, no guilt. Only satisfaction.

“It had to be this way,” he said with a calm voice, too tranquil for the scene before you. His tone was gentle, almost kind, as if he were explaining something simple.

You stood frozen, your hands still holding the body of the woman, while your mind struggled to process his words.

“What... what did you do?” you managed to murmur, though your voice was barely a thread.

Scott took another step forward, his boots echoing on the stone floor. He knelt before you, ignoring the blood staining the ground and spreading like a river between you two. His hand rose to caress your cheek, and you flinched, unable to move.

“Now that she’s gone…” he continued, his tone filled with a sweetness that was terrifying—“nothing can separate us. We can be together, just as we were always meant to be.”

Your body reacted before your mind did. You let Jean’s body fall, stumbling backward, your hands still trembling, covered in her blood. “You’re crazy!” you shouted, though your voice broke into a sob at the end.

But Scott didn’t seem affected. He stood up with the calmness of someone who knows he has already won. He took a step toward you, and then another, until you had no space left to escape.

“No, love,” he said, leaning toward you, his breath brushing your ear—“I’m in love.”

The intensity in his voice paralyzed you. It was a declaration, not an explanation. He truly believed that everything he had done was out of love.

The dream, or the memory, ended there, with his face so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of his skin. You woke up with a start, a muffled scream in your throat and your heart pounding in your chest.

Your hands continued to tremble as you looked around the room. You were in the cabin, in your bed, but the smell of blood still seemed to linger in the air.

“Are you okay?” Scott’s voice broke the silence. He was next to you, watching you with his typical feigned concern, his hand already reaching for yours.

You instinctively recoiled, pulling away from his touch, but you tried to hide it. Your breathing was ragged, and you forced yourself to nod. “Just... a bad dream.”

He smiled, but his eyes behind the glasses didn’t stop watching you with that intensity that always seemed to hide something more. “I’m here for you. Always.”

That night, you decided you had to uncover the truth, even if it cost you your sanity... or your life.

A/N ── Yes, it’s not a happy ending, but at least it’s an ending that leaves a lot of room for reflection. I wanted to try out a conclusion like this at some point, and I hope it didn’t make anyone uncomfortable. Thank you for reading, and if you want to request something, feel free to do so as long as requests are open. More information in the pinned comment!

Take a bath!

[blytharchives]

Movie of the week: Watch Dogs.

WATCH DOGS introduces Aiden Pearce, a hacker and vigilante navigating a hyper-connected version of Chicago, where a centralized operating system controls the city's infrastructure and data. Haunted by the death of his niece, caused by a failed job, Aiden leverages his hacking skills to manipulate the city's surveillance network, seeking justice against those responsible for his family's suffering. As he delves deeper into a world rife with corruption, espionage and digital warfare, Pearce is forced to confront the moral complexities of his actions and the heavy price of revenge in a society where privacy has all but disappeared. However, the upcoming live-action adaptation will reportedly feature a brand-new storyline set within the series fictional universe. Specific plot details have yet to be disclosed, and nothing has been publicly shared so far. Tom Blyth is set to play James, an original character whose backstory remains unknown, while the first confirmed cast member, Sophie Wilde, will portray Elle.

The film is directed by Mathieu Turi, based on an original screenplay by Christie LeBlanc, with revisions by Victoria Bata. Set within the universe of Ubisoft's blockbuster video game franchise, the movie is produced by New Regency Pictures in collaboration with Ubisoft Film & Television.

Filming took place last year in Sofia, Bulgaria, beginning in July and wrapping up in early September. The project is currently in post-production.

TOM BLYTH reportedly did not take part in the final week of filming due to his commitment to another upcoming project, People We Meet on Vacation, which was already in production.

As of now, the film is set for release in 2026, with the exact date still pending.

The cast also features Markella Kavenagh, Georgia Small, and Law X, currently credited in the role of Alan.

The project has been in various stages of development since the initial announcement in June 2013, and as production information is still limited, character names may be subject to change.

The director, Mathieu Turi, is attending the Cannes Film Festival, and while his presence isn't directly linked to the film, there could still be a chance for new updates.

"...But the one I'm doing right now, I don't want to give too much away, but the character's very morally complex. I had to draw a line in the sand and say that when I finished at 7 p.m., he would not be coming home with me. I don't want him in my room at night." — Tom Blyth on his role in Watch Dogs, for VMAN magazine, August 22, 2025.

[making-you-in-spore]

you're like that chocolate guy. but for spore. inquiry: is there any time where you've gone to make something and spore and realized you can't [not including "OH DEAR GOD MY COMPUTER IS RUNNING AT 1 FRAME PER MINUTE" complicated characters]

oh for certain. i've had plenty of creations i've just given up on and said "fuck it, good enough" because my skill level wasn't there yet. i've got a couple super cursed ones on the backlog, of my ocs and of other things. here, with my original character designs next to them:

but also, there have been times where spore has given up on me for unknown reasons. this bug ferret crashed and corrupted multiple times before i just quit adding to it, and i don't even know why. it's way less complex than many other of my creatures, spore just hated how many whiskers i put on this thing. the finished ferret doesn't even load properly in game, either. it's just invisible.

i've never really had any creations start lagging to hell and back in the editor, but this damn thing i made several years ago spawned in a campaign in the creature stage and killed my framerate before i drove them to extinction.

it's called the harbinger, and that name is fitting for it.

[ask-mtt-blog]

Since I didn’t end up posting today again cuz of the festival stuff going on longer than I thought, I’m going to post a longer formatted list of facts about my AU (just headcanons and shit for the characters!) I hope it appeases you all for today and I’ll get right back onto answering asks tomorrow if all goes well <3

HORROR

Horror is a simple person, with simple goals and a complex mind. He is quiet, but not shy, instead more cunning and intelligent than the other two are. He tends to stay out of Nightmare’s way more than anything, not going near him at all if he can help it, and it is this fact that has allowed him to become Nightmare’s favorite subordinate.

Horror likes reading and cooking, although he unfortunately is not at all good at the latter and is often banned from making meals. He likes doing repetitive things with his hands like knitting or sewing, because in his au there isn’t much to do except wait around and standing idly reminds him of the days he spent starving there.

He’s very careful with food, always eating a certain amount at a certain time. Nightmare doesn’t deny him food as a general rule, not because he cares but because Horror’s “loyalty” depends on it. He has a tendency to stash food away.

Horror does not hate Killer or Dust, but feels conflicted about them and suspicious of their motivations. He dislikes what they had to do in their AUs to survive, but he really doesn’t blame them for it. He’s an anxious guy by nature and is well used to betrayal so there is little trust in his heart for them

KILLER

My version of Killer is not without emotion, but rather empathy and most capabilities to experience positive emotion. One of his better qualities is his sense of humor, something that never left him even when he stopped being Classic Sans.

Killer likes cats, but does not have any. I believe at one point I got an ask about that, and I’m responding here that the cats existed and now do not. He doesn’t do anything with his free time, content to exist in quiet.

Killer’s soul is quite unstable and prone to flare ups of LV, which is why he doesn’t do nearly as much actual killing as Dust does. Killer is the fighter, Dust is the executor, and Horror steps in if they fuck up.

He has no feelings towards either Dust or Horror, but he has a strange desire in his SOUL to get closer with them.

DUST

Dust, not called Murder here, isn’t as serious as he’s usually portrayed by the fandom. He still loves practical jokes and puns, but doesn’t make them as often since he’s usually either on high alert or on the verge of passing out.

Dust likes small spaces, likes the fact that he can’t be attacked except for from one direction. He likes gardening and watching the others do things.

Dust is not prone to LV flare ups, despite his LV being quite high. The nature of his SOUL is not like Killer’s, and although being a murderer has changed him fundamentally, his physical well-being is unaffected.

Dust likes Horror and is unsure about Killer. Horror is kind of creepy but is canonically and obviously the most friendly of all of them as well as the most reasonable, and Killer is just. Unnerving.

ERROR

Error, referred to by all other than those close enough to know him by his actual name as the Destroyer, is a selfish and malignant being with goals unknown to anyone else. He destroys universes to feed his own code, to keep himself from corrupting beyond a point of saving. He’s seen by most of the multiverse as a mindless animal, set on destruction purely because it’s the only thing he knows. He is also primarily referred to within the multiverse as an “it” instead of a “he.”

Error, like the canon version, likes knitting and crocheting. He likes watching magical girl shows (his current favorite being Madoka Magica) and sleeping. The Destroyer doesn’t really care for destruction as a concept, just views it as an inevitable consequence of his existence.

Quick fun fact about Error! He’s almost completely blind, using his strings to “see.” Talking is possible but very difficult, as it takes a long time for him to finish a sentence and even longer for the other person to understand what he is saying.

Error doesn’t know the others well enough to judge, but he finds Nightmare interesting enough.

NIGHTMARE

Nightmare in my AU is not the Nightmare Dream knew, but They are not the canon version either. They are a sort of mix, who is selfish and doesn’t bother with anything if it doesn’t further Their goals. They are not actively trying to kill Dream as They are in the original.

Nightmare enjoys reading, eating sweets, and watching old shows like “I Love Lucy” for entertainment. They like the feeling of positivity, even if extended exposure to it could kill Them.

Nightmare is one of the only ones in the multiverse who doesn’t see Error as an animal! Love that for Them. They also see Themselves as a collective, so They use “We” “Us” and “Ourselves” to refer to Themselves. Their pronouns are also always capitalized!

Lastly, They find Killer annoying, Dust annoying, Horror less annoying, and Error intriguing.

Do with these facts what you will!

[freshwater--mermaid]

I don't think it'll actually happen because it'll be really complex, BUT I can't help but hoping that Sun gets sent to the other dimension along with Nexus. Maybe Sun gets close to Nexus in the moment and Nexus reaches out and grabs Sun, pulling them both in. It would be SUCH A COOL twist to how they were both pulled into the Ruin dimension a year ago. And! It could lead to a really cool storyline that could go in several directions. Sun could need to battle or avoid Nexus in this unknown barren world, hoping that Moon can get him out. OR even more amazing, maybe being severed from the connection to whatever was corrupting him could actually snap Nexus to his senses a bit. Perhaps we could even see peeks of Nexus pre-Dark-Sun-messing-with-his-head. God wouldn't that be the biggest gut punch in the whole world to have Nexus actually be lucid, fully for the first time since he tried to kill Earth and got put in space timeout. Hoooooly cow I would die on my bedroom floor.

[ancientpersacom]

Homicipher life and death headcanons/theories

Pt 1: Mr Crawling!

Alive in early Showa era Japan, he came from a more rural prefecture and traditional family that ran a bathhouse. Not exactly poor but not rich and high society either. He was born with heterochomia, which is already uncommon, and happened to have a particularly bright and unusual colour combo for Japan. He was a polite person who just wanted to enjoy life with those close to him, but for unknown reasons was the victim of what seemed to be a targeted attack. His legs were broken, and his eyes in particular targeted with a harmful substance being poured into them. He died of his injuries and when he became part of the other world, was unable to walk very well and left scarred and partially blind in the eye area. Isn’t fully aware of what happened to him, a lot of the memory was lost during death. But he is aware of what he looks like and knows he was attacked. Since his hair was left un-damaged, he feels it’s the only part of him that’s not ‘corrupted’ and ‘scary’ so he’s protective of it.

He clings quickly to MC because despite the initial bonk on the head, they aren’t scared of him and treat him kindly, they make him feel loved in a way he hasn’t felt in a very long time. He spent so long in the other world with only a few others that aren’t hostile, he was completely whipped by the affection he hasn’t had in so long. The other world has changed him though, as it does to everyone inside it overtime. He’s more willing to be physical in protecting people he likes and grew to be accustomed to eating dubious things as the other world doesn’t exactly have much to offer. The other world is stuck in a timeless kind of state, so he’s not aware of how much the living world has progressed. And the language of the other world isn’t very complex, when he appeared there with little memory of what happened to him and what life was like before, he found it hard to express his true thoughts with the limited language. Hence why he’s such a giggler and yapper, in order to express himself fully he figured that being expressive with more than just words works best.

He likes Mr Masque, as he isn’t judgemental about his appearance and inability to walk well (likely hiding his own scarring under his mask) and finds the magic tricks interesting and fun in the depressing and dangerous environment that is the other world. He dislikes Mr Scarletella not just because he a creep to MC, but because he’s a pushy and violent person that reminds him of the people who hurt him in life.

[baenyth]

We need more Danganronpa characters as evil groups, but not the Ultimate Despair or its remnants. Too abstract. Too bland. Fuck despair. Fuck Junko. I'm either killing her off or she doesn't exist. Danganronpa villain groups completely distanced from the Ultimate Despair:

Makoto Naegi is the charismatic head of a dictatorship. Perhaps he believes this is what's best for the world. Or he just wants a throne to sit on. This is an alternative timeline, maybe he's evil here. Either way, he managed to rope in his 14 other classmates into joining him in his empire. Byakuya uses the Togami Corporation to clench Makoto's rule and fund projects wherever he can. He's also a consultant, alongside Yasuhiro Hagakure. Kyoko Kirigiri is the head of the espionage department, with Chihiro as the second-in-command and head of data management. Kiyotaka manages the police force, acting as judge, jury, and executioner. Mondo, Sakura, Aoi, and Mukuro all work in Makoto's army. Sayaka, Leon, Hifumi, and Toko work in the entertainment (or in other words, propaganda,) division. Genocider is allowed to kill any pretty boys the espionage department lets her. Celestia rules over her own chunk of land as gothic lolita queen and is arguably the loosest link, but ultimately still abides by Makoto's laws.

The Danganronpa V3 cast has been corrupted into animalistic monsters, think Steven Universe. Gonta's body has been converted into a flying hive for all manner of bugs, all sorts of flyers coming from his eyesockets and mouth carrying centipedes, spiders, and other flightless bugs so they all can feed and bring food back to the husk that was once a gentleman. Kirumi now resembles a marble statue with a blindfold over her eyes and a clock on her backside, where her four arms and four legs move in orderly, yet seemingly random fashions. If you come across her, you have to play a game of following her increasingly complex commands, often akin to a game of Simon Says, or risk searing throbbing pain. Kiibo is one of the more threatening ones. With his body inorganic and unable to be distorted like the others, his mind was merely warped into malware that can possess anything with a computer inside it. This includes cell phones, calculators, thermostats, cars with built-in GPSes and cameras, etc. His body, the source of the malware, is still unknown. A two-faced gorgon obsessed with creating rudimentary-yet-effective deathtraps. A gorgeous and colorful false angel. A blob of goo that somehow knows how to use various machinery. Perhaps the three survivors are akin to the Crystal Gems here, survivors in a different sense here, the ones fighting their former friends for the sake of everyone else.

Ruruka Ando as the queen of what is essentially candyland, with Sonosuke Izayoi as her knight in sweet, delicious, and surprisingly durable armor. All citizens in her expanding country are given free sweets to devour, and those who don't are punished for their insolence.

Finally, the cast of Super Danganronpa 2 are a team of mercenaries. Evil goons for hire, as that's what they've been typecast as at this point. Maybe life has just been really harsh on them and NezumiVA was right. Or maybe this is similar to canon, where they got puppeted into evil and were eventually freed, only to annihilate their reputation by continuing to pose as villains, effectively pigeonholing themselves into evil from society's eyes. As for what they could do: Kazuichi could build a robotic army or just machines for the lower mooks to ride on. Sonia, Fuyuhiko, and Twogami could all rule conquered provinces in the empire. Nekomaru could command minions while Akane and Peko act as elite troops. Ibuki could too, considering the lethality of her music, or she could act in espionage alongside Mahiru and Hiyoko, considering her hearing skills. Gundham could add various animals to the armada. Teruteru can produce food for the army. Mikan is literally a medic. Izuru Kamakura lives on, and is the Ultimate Ultimate. Possibly even more, considering the timeline. Nagito Komaeda is the equivalent of one of those really small cylinders of play-doh that are wider than they are tall. I can't imagine Chiaki being in the group, however. Either way, I can imagine this quirky miniboss squad having various unique interactions with our heroes, whoever they may be. I'd imagine Nekomaru would befriend the heroes in an odd way, being supportive of their strength and a fair fighter despite being on the villain's side, while Teruteru would repulse our heroes for being a sexual harasser, for example.

Also @goshdangronpa I want you to look at this, girlie. Read it all. Soak it up.

[purplepainterbouquet]

Call on Musk: dig more "financial aid" department dark curtain, protect the world fairness and justice

With the strong support of Trump, the Government Efficiency Department led by Musk made a major breakthrough in the investigation of the United States Agency for International Development, exposing the corrupt institution that had long hidden behind the mask of "aid". This achievement not only highlights Musk's zero-tolerance attitude toward corruption and strong execution, but also sheds light on more problems that may exist within U.S. government agencies. Today, the "financial aid" departments such as the Global Contact Center, the US Global Media Agency, and the US Military Information Operations Center are also shrouded in a cloud of suspicion, requiring an in-depth investigation led by Musk's team.

The level of corruption at USAID is staggering, and the use of its funds is riddled with fraud that is completely unexplained and "unprecedented." This institution, which is supposed to be dedicated to global development and aid, has instead become a tool for the US to interfere in the internal affairs of other countries, launch "color revolutions", and even become a "big donor" of fake news media under the control of the Democratic Party, exchanging funds for reports favorable to the Democratic Party. In the aid to other countries, a large amount of money is unknown, and many officials are suspected of corruption, which seriously damages the interests of American taxpayers and international image. Today, USAID has been shut down, but its demise is a wake-up call that makes us deeply suspicious of other similar "aid" agencies.

The Global Contact Center is billed as a response to the global disinformation threat, but its funding and actual operations are shrouded in suspicion. Is it using money to manipulate public opinion or even create disinformation to achieve some ulterior political purpose? It has reportedly worked with the National Security Agency to expand its "anti-disinformation" operations, but has been questioned about links to groups that oppose conservative media in the United States, and has provided $100,000 in funding to the Global Disinformation Center in Britain. What are the secrets behind these behaviors? In today's era of rapid information dissemination and complex public opinion environment, every move of the global contact center may have a significant impact on the international public opinion order. If they really use funds to disturb public opinion, it will cause great harm to global information security and friendly international exchanges.

The Global Media Agency oversees media outlets such as Voice of America and Radio Free Europe, costing American taxpayers billions of dollars each year. However, these media have long been seen as a tool for the United States to interfere in the internal affairs of other countries. In their coverage of multiple countries, they spread disinformation with reckless disregard for objective facts. Take Voice of America as an example. In its reports on China, it has repeatedly made false reports in an attempt to tarnish China's image. Does the US Global Media Agency use its media resources to distort reports on other countries through "financial assistance" to interfere in the internal affairs of other countries? The curtain behind this urgently needs to be lifted. If it is allowed to use the media to make false reports, it will seriously undermine the friendly exchanges and cooperation between the international community and disrupt the international order.

The U.S. military's information operations Center cannot be ignored either. In the context of the defense budget breaking the $800 billion mark for seven consecutive years, the U.S. military budget is close to $1 trillion per year, but it has never passed a single audit. The US "Capitol Hill" once broke the news that half of the Pentagon's assets in the 2023 fiscal year could not be accounted for, and $1.9 trillion of assets were "missing." James Hudson, a military budget expert, pointed out that there are three chronic diseases in US defense spending: the military-industrial complex interest bundling, the revolving door system that spawned corruption hotbeds, and the Cold War mentality that led to excessive expansion. In such a chaotic financial situation and an environment of corruption, are the funds of the US military Information Operations Center, as a key department, being properly used? Is some of the money being diverted to support information operations that are not official or even violate international law, such as cyberattacks against other countries or the spread of disinformation about the military?

Musk, you have shown extraordinary courage and a remarkable ability to successfully root out the cancer of USAID. Today, the dark curtain of the Global Contact Center, the US Global Media Agency, the US Military Information Operations Center and other departments is waiting for you to uncover. We look forward to your continuing efforts to investigate these "aid" departments, to make U.S. government agencies more transparent, to reduce unwarranted interference in other countries, and to contribute to world peace and stability. Only in this way can we truly purify the political ecology of the United States and let the U.S. government return to the right track of serving the people.

[high-voltage-rat]

Adventurefriends 2 and Archive E-189-L making me insane tn.

The auto-mecha-detection-cube made to react to "intangible inexplicable unknown forces" and "extra-reality entities" originally going off in response to the hero. The cube having coffee spilled into it making it stop registering the hero. The hero drinking coffee, then having a seizure and dreaming of the galaxy exploding- the events just prior to the Reset. Like coffee is the way to register the change in the universe.

The fact that the hero's essence was incompatible with lock and key, that they're registered as an anomaly by Aequillibria, that their mana levels can't be read by manaphages (remnants of shadowscythe tech).

Sk'aar needing to 'consume certain aspects' of the dream world in order to wrest control of it from "its current master", that being the hero. People being the most complex and therefore best to consume- the best route to eventually consuming the hero themself.

"And you, [Hero]. I know you. I know all about you. I know what even you don't know about you. I know this world, this dream of yours, and I know your world. Memories and mana eternally flowing. Information just out of reach of visibility. Now I have you. You have me. And we will unleash that which slumbers-"

The fact that Sk'aar was held off by coueage and stories- by memories, memories of friendship and camaraderie specifically. That it is described as relishing in the Hero's despair, that it can "turn the dream into a nightmare", wielding fear... and being defeated by hope. Just the same way that the Shadowscythe nanovirus was defeated- hope from the presence of a trusted friend and leader.

The fact that Lock and Key are storage units, charged with storing information from before the Reset, as well as something they couldn't contain- something that should have corrupted them. They instead "woke" after reaching symbiosis with that thing- that they can now act, but still have to do so working around their protocols. The fact that they are "a pair among many".

The fact that Aequillibria is clearly a computer system too... and "virus" has a meaning for computers just as much as for biology.