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#the teens have chaos energy that needs to live
sluts-assembled · 4 months
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Aftershock
Someone bought me a coffee...that's why Reader is a little bit more descriptive than usual.
Warnings: NSFW, non consensual vaginal sex, non consensual oral sex, non consensual spanking, hair pulling, gun play, Daddy kink, face slapping, violence, degradation, humiliation
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Something feels wrong in the air when you get back to the school with Riko, Suguru, and Satoru. You don’t sense a shift in cursed energy, and everything seems fine otherwise…that is until a sword impales Gojo right before your youthful eyes. Your heart throbs in rapid beats as you pull your sword out from the sheath on your skirt.
            Many words are spoken, but you hear none as Suguru pulls you and Riko towards the school.
            “What?” You breathe with so many questions on your tongue but none finding their way past your throat. Gulping, you shake your head. “Geto, we can’t just leave him!”
            “You’ll be safer with me. I promise. We need to get Riko to safety.”
            You bite back a cry as you look over your shoulder at your friend now fighting with the man who stabbed him. If he’s fully healed, then Suguru must be right. Gojo can handle him. You need to keep moving and secure the vessel for Tengen.
            Too much happens at a faster rate than you can process. One second, Riko is telling Geto and you that she wants to keep living, she’s only a young girl who still has plenty of life left in her. This girl is more than just the Star Plasma Vessel, she is a bright star herself. You can’t help but hope that Geto will allow the girl to reach her wish, but then a shot rings out, and a bullet passes through the young teen’s skull right in front of you. Geto’s reaction is much the same as yours as shock courses through him.
            He orders you to run, and you should listen to him, but your feet fail to move. Your eyes are trained on the man who stabbed Gojo as he walks towards you two with a gun in hand. Shaking your head to clear your mind, you reach for your sword.
            Whoosh. Your hair sways with the breeze as something moves by you so quickly, and your sword vanishes from its sheath. You see this man with a scar on the edge of his lip balance your weapon in his hand.
            “Hey, don’t you know it’s rude to play with something that doesn’t belong to you,” is all you can quip as you bear your teeth at him.
            “’Guess I’ll just hafta play with ya instead. I think I’ll like the pretty sounds ya make when I have ya screamin’ in pain.”
            His eyes glint with sinister revelations, and you’re forced behind Geto’s protective arm.
            “RUN! NOW!” He pushes you towards an exit so that you can get away quicky.
            This time, you must listen because the man who stabbed Gojo and just took your sword at lightning speed isn’t someone Suguru thinks you have a chance of winning against.
            To be honest…you’re not even sure if you could beat him in a two-on-one. If Geto has free reign in a fight, then he doesn’t need to worry about structure damage or collateral. You would probably just be in the way. With amplification to your cursed technique, you move as fast as you can to flee the area and bring in outside help. Maybe Nanami? Mei Mei? You run as far and fast as you can to find your classmates, but where the hell is everyone?
            You check classroom after classroom only to end up with nothing. It’s as if everyone left early for the day. When you go to exit the school and check the dorms, you’re pushed face first into a wall. Your heavy breasts cushion the impact, but you came so close to hitting your forehead against the hard surface.
            You look over your shoulder, having to crane your neck because he towers over you. It’s him.
            “Who are you?” You can’t help but wonder, needing a name to place with all of the utter chaos he’s causing. The terror he’s filling you with needs to match not just a face.
            “’Name’s Toji. Now, where’s a little bunny like ya runnin’ off to? The only place ya need to be is right here.” His rather large hand finds your wrist, holding it down by your side as he leans his head down to the soft nape of your neck.
            You snap your head back, trying to catch his nose with the back of your skull.
            He foresees your movements and tilts his head out of the way. “Too slow, little bunny. Too fuckin’ slow.”
            Toji quickly pins you to the wall by your hips. His thumbs dip into your high waisted skirt, and he can’t help but play with the fabric teasingly. “This yer little school uniform, sweetheart? Do the boys try to catch a peek when yer doin’ all kinds of big girl fighting?”
            His patronization bothers you immensely. You’re an asset to this school, an accomplished martial artist and swordswoman. He’s acting as if you’re nothing but a young girl who just entered middle school!
            Wrenching your wrists up to the small of your back, he works a knee in between your thighs, spreading your feet apart until the fabric of his pants is nestled right against your clothed pussy.
            “Stop talking to me like that, you asshole! I’ll fucking kill you if you try anything. I swear to God, this isn’t funny!”
You jut your shoulder out, trying to gain leverage against the wall. Once again, you find your curvy tits smashed against it.
            “Watch that pretty mouth, or I’ll hafta wash it out with my come,” he whispers salaciously into your ear.
            You shriek and kick your foot up, trying to stomp on his toe. Your feet are too far apart, and Toji is having too much fun watching all of your attempts. The entertainment leaves him chuckling lowly, darkly, like a rattle snake with predatory intentions.
            He nudges your thighs farther and farther apart. With your chest and cheek squished against the wall, wrists pinned behind your back as your spine arches, and feet more than just shoulder length apart, Toji has you bent at a very odd angle. Still, you can feel something growing, poking into the seat of your skirt.
            You know exactly what that is, and you don’t want it anywhere near you.
            “No…no, no, no!” Your shrill voice fills the hallway as he spins you around to face him. You didn’t notice every detail about him before, but now, you can’t help but take every malevolent inch of him in.
His tall frame, bulky with muscles that must have taken an immense amount of endurance and consistency to form. His eyes as black as a moonless night. The way even his clothes cling to him like moss on stones, enhancing every sculpted line of his abdomen. Even the faded scar on his lip seems much more prominent. The last thing you take in is his wild hair, not as long as Geto’s, but just as black as a raven’s. Everything about this man from his clothes to his nature drips with darkness.
            However, this is your chance to try something, to even show him that you’re not going to stand here and take his perverted assault. Your right fist shoots out, but he slips his head, missing your fist as you aim for his jaw. Again, your next attack curves upwards, trying to slam your knuckles into his liver. As you witnessed earlier, he shows off his amazing speed once more, countering your fists with parries and punches of his own. You dodge and block his quick hands as hard as you can, sweat budding on your brow as he runs down your stamina. You have to act quick, be just as fast as him. You don’t want to deliver any kicks without a set up, and now is the perfect time as you see an opening in his stomach. A jab has you keep your other fist up by your jaw to prevent him from knocking you out, a cross to set up the kick, and the final delivery.
            What you do not expect is for him to grab your fucking thigh and throw you into the goddamn wall. Your back crashes against it, a large fissure in the surface as you slump down to the ground. You roll over, getting your bearings, hefting yourself up on hands and knees. You look to your side, but he’s nowhere to be found. No, not a chance. He’s behind you.
            Toji flexes his foot, stomping your left butt cheek so hard that you fall on your stomach.
            “Fuck!” You scream in anger at the humiliation he’s putting you through.
            Crouching down, he grabs you by your hair, pulling your head up. He gives you a smirk full of condescension. “Nice…but too fuckin’ slow, hon. Yer gonna hafta pick up the pace if ya wanna land a blow on me. I think I’d rather have ya blow my cock though. Sounds a lot more fun than this little back and forth.”
            Your neck feels on the verge of snapping if he keeps this up any longer. You try to grab his wrist, to pry him off of your locks, but you only end up forcing him to pull your hair even harder. Relenting, you drop your hand from his joint and try to elbow him in the ribs. Finally, you land a decent shot, but you don’t move him. Not in the slightest. Instead, it seems you only poked the bear, but the bear is pissed nonetheless.
            He bashes your head into the floor, and you use all of the cursed energy you have to protect yourself from the harm. Your brow only bloodied slightly from the abuse; your brains rattled even more.
            Toji hefts you up over his broad shoulder, slinging an arm over the back of your knees, smacking your ass once as he starts walking towards a classroom.
            “Ya know,” he begins as he slides open one of the shoji doors, “’should be glad ya ran away from your friend when you did. Just means I don’t have anyone gettin’ in my way.” He drops you on the desk at the front of the room.
            You scrunch your eyes closed from the impact of being dropped on your back, spine hitting hard wood. Sitting up, you use your elbow as balance, but with only so much room, Toji doesn’t exactly let you get far. He drags you towards him by your ankles, a cruel grin twisting his lips as he flattens you back out on the desktop. His hands clasp your knees in a crushing grip, pushing them all the way up to your buxom chest as he slithers back in between your legs, just like when he held you against the wall.
            Unable to kick, unable to knee him, unable to do much, you beat your clenched fists against his chest, attempting to strike his face even. It gets you nowhere, and you feel truly hopeless as reality dawns on you. You can do nothing as he begins biting and sucking on your collarbone and throat, leaving toothy marks and O shaped bruises in the wake of his pouty lips.
            His hands once on your knees slip underneath your navy-blue skirt, fingers ghosting the waistband of your panties, pulling on the silky fabric until he tears them off completely. They fall to the floor in tatters of lavender with a white rose on the front, and you scream at him to let you go, to put an end to this torment.
            “I get it! You’re bigger than me! Is that what you’re trying to prove?!” You bite at him, trying to prolong this, to keep him away from you as long as you can.
            He eyes you, those midnight orbs staring into you like a dragon facing its hoard of gold. “This isn’t about me proving anything. Nah, after dealin’ with yer little friends, I need some stress relief, and yer cute little pussy is the perfect thing to take it out on.”
            Already in between your legs, he has no need to pry your knees further apart, yet he does all the same. He wants a good look at the treasure he just found. His scar quirks up as he stares at your velvety folds, and he whistles with satisfaction. “I was right. It is pretty cute.”
            Your tiny cunt flutters at the compliment, wet and glistening in preparation for what is to come.
            He doesn’t rid himself of his clothes. He only pushes his white trousers down enough to free his cock. However, he does rip at yours, intent on causing you as much mortification as he possibly can. With your school uniform in shreds on the floor along with the sheath to your long-forgotten sword, you’re completely bare and oh-so vulnerable to this beast.
            “Ya ready, hon? I just know it’s gonna be tight.” He grunts as he lines himself up with your quaking slit. “Be a good girl, n’ take a deep breath for me.”
            But you hold it, and his cock jabs inside of you so hard that you wish you had listened to him. Biting your lip, you throw your head back with a yelp of pain, much like a kicked pup.
            “I warned ya,” is all he has to say before he thrusts into you, hips digging into yours, carving his monumental length into your womb, breaking your virginity.
            You’re too tight, too small, and he’s so huge. It hurts as he tears through tissue, but it feels pleasant as his cock begins to settle inside your walls. You can feel his veiny member twitch inside of you, can see the bliss on his face as he gets to know your most intimate parts.
            Toji furthers the penetration by pressing your knees all the way up to your tits again, holding you there as he looks straight at you. “Keep those eyes open. I wanna see the look on yer face when ya come all over my cock.”
            You gasp, everything about him is just so incredibly massive as he continues to bully his way inside of you. Blinking up at him with teary eyes, you give into his demands and meet his dark gaze.
            Confliction takes over your body as your brain reminds you that this is rape, but your body argues that his erection is just so nice and filling. You hold back a moan when you feel him hit a tiny ball of something that causes your hips to bump up and meet his, your clit tickled by his black patch of scratchy pubes. You turn your head to the side to avoid showing him that you’re responding to his ministrations, but he slaps you, red fingerprints blooming across the apple of your cheek.
            “Thought I told ya to keep those cry baby eyes on me, hon,” he sneers at you, waiting for you to face him again.
            And you do. You look at him with a trembling lip as the tears finally edge their way past your waterline and fall in fat rolls, joining at your chin before trailing down to your chest, slipping and disappearing in between your heaving breasts.
You keep your focus on him, even as he frees one knee in order to spank your ass harshly. His palm comes crashing down again and again and again. Several times, a dozen times. It makes no difference to you as he blindly smacks away at whatever flesh he can find. You’re more than positive the area he just beat is a cherry red with flecks of indigo bruises. It makes you want to squeeze your eyes shut and cry out, makes you want to twist under his hold, but you don’t dare to do any of it. You have to keep your eyes on him.
            “I fucking hate you,” you whisper at him with disdain tinting your features.
            “Yeah? Doesn’t really matter to me,” he presses into you, causing you to arch your back just right for him.
            You elicit a lewd moan from the feeling of having him pound deeply into you like the little fuck toy that you are for him. It drives him wild, only spurring him to quicken his pace as he creates a mess out of you. Tiny and stupid with big tits just made for his meaty paws. That’s all you are to this bulky man as he rapes your virgin pussy, your slit weeping around his fat cock with a mixture of blood and juices.
            In a last-ditch effort to get him off of your body, you reach out and try to jab your thumbs into his eyes, but you just haven’t learned your lessen yet.
            “What a naughty little girl,” he drawls out, and your body goes into another state of shock for the second time today as you feel the cold barrel of his gun against your temple. “Seems someone oughta teach ya a lesson in behavin’.” He rests his finger along the barrel, just close enough to the trigger if you were to try anything again.
            Fear strangles you. You can’t breathe, too afraid that even the slightest bounce of your breasts might set him off to shoot the gun. Whimpering as you bite your lip, you nod in submission.
            I won’t fight you anymore.
            It’s an unspoken agreement, one that he acknowledges with the slyest of grins.
            Internally, you seethe with rage yet sob with agonized torment from the guttural and feral fucking. You hate the fact that you have given in to him, you hate yourself for it most of all, but with the gun pressed to your skull as he bucks his hips into you…what choice do you really have?
            Suddenly, laughter rumbles from his chest, deep and rolling like thunder in charcoal skies. “It’s kinda funny. Six Eyes is bleedin’ out somewhere, and here ya are gettin’ fucked like a little bitch in heat.”
            Tears well up in your eyes as your mouth parts. How could you not have realized Toji being here means that he won against your classmates?
            “What did you do to him?” You can’t help but ask, curiosity tormenting you alongside the hulk of a man mounting you.
            “I fuckin’ killed ‘em, sweetheart.”
            And the tears flow faster like a heavy current. It’s probably the same for Geto then. The dam breaks, and your breath hitches as you succumb to your agonized and pained wails which built up inside of you since he began playing with you.
            “Don’t cry, princess. ‘S alright. I’ll take care of ya. Make ya cry for a bunch of different reasons,” he jabs at your insecurity as he wipes away your tears with the barrel of his gun.
            And he lives up to his word, splitting your pussy with such vigor that you momentarily forget Gojo’s predicament as your back arches off of the table, hitting that tiny bomb embedded in your walls with the thick tip of his cockhead, causing a beautiful explosion to go off. Your body jolts as waves of pleasure overcome you more than several times, until you’re nothing but a twitching little prize on his wet dick.
Your orgasm and blood soak his entire length, and all he has to do to finish up is push the barrel in between your brows and demand you suck him off.
“Come on, sweetheart. Open wide for Daddy.”
It’s like calling himself that comes so naturally to him, like he doesn’t mind referring to himself in that way. Such a sacred relationship, and he doesn’t care one bit if he tramples over it, making a mockery of it.
You eye the hung and fat girth of his stalk, the still twitchy vein throbbing away at the prospect of filling your toothy cavern.
Again, with the barrel of the gun set between your eyes, what choice do you have but to follow along? Your obedience serves you well, but only for so long as he cocks the gun and strokes your hair with it, calling you all sorts of pretty and demented pet names while you take him so far that your nose rubs against his patch of hair surrounding the base of his length. Not trimmed in the slightest yet not overgrown, the musky scent wafts into your nostrils while you gag on his mushroom tip.
Your eyes water again as he shoves your head so far into his lower abdomen, you have to grip his hips to steady yourself as you’re overcome with lack of oxygen. Drool seeps past the corner of your lips, trailing down your chin along with those crocodile tears of yours.
“Yeah, I think this suits ya much better than being a Jujutsu Sorcerer. Put that mouth and puss to good use.”
You have a sudden urge to bite down on him, but he sees it in your glaring eyes and prevents it from happening by taping your forehead with the black weapon quite harshly in your opinion. It leaves you flinching, feeling as though a bruise might be left behind from the way he’s tap, tap, tapping you with the gun, silently ordering you to obey his every command or else.
Averting your eyes, you continue to bob your mouth along his shaft like the cheap slut he’s making you feel, and there’s nothing you can do but submit and “clean him up”. He shoves himself down your throat once more, twice more, again and again until come fills your mouth, and you’re forced to swallow it down.
His behemoth sized cock pops free past your lips, and you let your head fall back, not caring about the uncomfortableness of your skull hitting the wooden surface. You watch as Toji hops down from the desk, adjusting his pants before putting his gun away.
And that’s the last you see of Toji, your rapist, the man who snatched your virginity, the guy who couldn’t even be bothered to give you his shirt. You have to walk all the way back to the dorms with nothing on. But there’s Gojo and Geto…alive. And even though everything went horribly wrong today, at least you still have your friends.
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icequeenlila · 8 months
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The gang playing Baldur's Gate 3
(I apologize in advance)
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I never played this game, only seen short clips of it and my sick brain came up with this
****
The gang is at the Sully's home, playing the game. They take turns and right now it's Lo'ak's turn.
The bear scene comes on.
Neteyam: "Lo'ak, no."
Spider: "Lo'ak, yes!"
Lo'ak: "Fuck me, you giant son of a bear!"
Chaos unfolds
Spider and Lo'ak are cheering and howling at the flat screen, cackling like mad.
Kiri is watching unbothered, wrapped in a blanket on the couch, stuffing her mouth with popcorn. Girl is unimpressed.
Neteyam is screeching in high Sopran, covering his eyes but still peeking between his fingers.
Aonung is right next to him, using the chance to protectively wrap an arm around his crush. Still, he's crying of laughter, pressing a reassuring kiss to Neteyam's temple.
Tsireya is staring at the screen in wide horror, but still smiling bc she thinks it's cute when Lo'ak is unhinged like this. Still, she was definitely not expecting this, when Lo'ak asked her to come over after school.
Rotxo is filming his friends' reactions from his spot on the carpet (It's a comfy carpet). He's trying his hardest not to cackle all the way through, so the video has good quality later.
So, the scene unfolds on the screen and the living room is filled with laughter and screams, and right when the guy transforms into a bear, Neytiri, Jake and Tuk retrun from their trip to the Mal.
Chaos intensifies.
Lo'ak is seeing his life pass by in front of his eyes, hastily passing the controller to Spider.
Spider, who is equally freaked at the undefineable look in Neytiri's eyes, shoves it right back at him.
They start bickering.
All the while the scene unfolds.
Neteyam now hides his face in ernest, pressing his forehead to Aonung's shoulder.
"Help", is all he can say and Aonung has to try his hardest to suppress his laughter and the rising blush that is creeping up on him.
He would love to pull Neteyam in tighter, but he is too scared that Neytiri would stab him on the spot. So, all he can do is to give Neteyam a pad on the back.
Rotxo is still filming, really enjoying himself, hid away on the living room carpet.
Neytiri is a bit disturbed at what she's seeing on the screen, but then she decides she doesn't have the energy to yell at them right now. Not after she had to put up with Tuk just minutes ago, trying to convince her that she didn't need the newest Barbie.
Neytiri: *looking at Jake* "They are your problem."
And then she gently guides Tuk away from her chaotic siblings.
While leaving, Tuk is waving wildly at Kiri.
Tuk: "Look, what dad got me!"
She holds up her new Barbie.
Kiri gives her a thumbs up, smiling at her proudly. She was the one who taught the kitten eyes to her little sister. Their dad couldn't withstand it. Never.
Kiri is still unbothered by the way.
Lo'ak and Spider are still bickering and Tsireya is hugging her legs to her body, praying to Eywa that this won't leave a lasting impression on Lo'ak's parents. She is trying her hardest to win them over (not knowing that Jake and Neytiri already adore her).
All the while, Jake is just standing there, right in front of the screen, watching the whole scene with interest. Like, he is even standing in the dad pose, his hands stemmed into the back of his hips, his upper body leaned slightly towards the screen.
He watches the whole scene and then turns around, looking at his kids, no judgement at all.
Jake: "Is this what teens do nowadays? They watch furry porn?"
Lo'ak and Neteyam: "No!"
They then proceed to explain to their dad that they were playing a game and even explain the whole mechanics and how they ended up in this particular scene.
To their surprise Jake seems actually interested, so they give the controller to him. He fails like a dad, giving them many occasions to laugh.
The situation calms down and they end up cheering on Jake when he accidentally stumbles into a boss. (Never played the game. Sorry, if it doesn't actually work like that.)
Jake tries his hardest, but he's a newbie and he doesn't stand a chance. Still, they have tons of fun, even Kiri cracking a laugh.
At some point, Neytiri who's been watching from the kitchen can't take it any longer, walking over to them and taking the controller from Jake.
They all gauge at her, when she beats the Boss on first try.
Neytiri: *finding every one staring at her* "I sometimes play when you're all in bed. It's relaxing."
Lo'ak is practically making heart eyes at her. His mum just turned so much cooler.
From then on, this becomes an occasional family thing. But they play different games ofc. Stuff that doesn't have all the sexual stuff. They try to teach Jake, but that man is a lost cause.
Also, whenever Lo'ak finds himself unable to beat a Boss, he runs straight to his mum.
Neytiri makes him do chores for it, but secretly she loves her little boy asking her for help. And she loves seeing his eyes sparkle whenever he watches her play.
+
Like I said, never played this game. If something doesn't add up, I'm sorry, but like it's just a silly headcanon. Don't take it seriously.
Bye✨
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antirepurp · 1 year
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time for me to be obnoxious about an april fool's game at almost may wahoo ft. an unexpected moment of character analysis because i have no chill
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TRAIN.
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i hope this game is canon because rouge doing petty pickpocketing is my favorite thing actually
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he has a wallet? and a home?
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i could go on about how much i love these kids being unhinged and chaotic but unless i want to reblog this post a million times i have to cut it down. let it be known that i adore the kids and their antics tho
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you know what i also adore? blaze committing crimes in the chaos dimension because she can get away with it. i think i need more of that in my life actually
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although right after he says he doesn't wanna do more crimes i'd like to think he grows out of that opinion eventually. let the little guy steal stuff i want him to hang with rouge and have her make him worse actually
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look here shadow's had it rough in the writing department for a while but i very much appreciated this plot point of him going out of his way to get concert tickets for amy and even (reluctantly) agreeing to go with her to said concert even if it isn't his cup of tea. i know it's more presented as him trying to y'know be polite and considerate and he's going about it in an edgy way but i'd like to think it's just his way of presenting things if you will? like he know what amy's favorite band is and sees how hard the tickets are to get so he goes out of his way to get them because he cares about his friend and knows how much attending a concert like that would mean to amy. and in terms of this screenshot in particular i also appreciate amy appreciating her friends' presence at her party even if they hadn't gotten her anything! sure it does kinda come across as her being bummed about not getting gifts from them and maybe she is but i think that's okay? like she's 12 (or 13 now i guess?) getting excited about presents is pretty normal, and it's not like she's super upset about it anyway. i think she genuinely appreciates her friends attending her party more than anything
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i also found this a lovely little detail lol and it does kinda make sense! the bitch has been in stasis for 50 years and computer technology has taken leaps in that time, of course he'd be a lil rustier with them compared to his peers
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more on shadow, this guy's brain goes overdrive the second he realizes he fucked up and needs to get something nice for his friend now. like i don't have the brain power to form it into words atm but i just love what this all says about him as a character!!
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i could flail about the art in this game the whole evening honestly it's so lovely and colorful and pretty and i love how this scene is composed and shadow being seated on the windowsill idk this just put a big smile on my face when i saw it :)
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frankly obsessed with amy's unhinged energy can we please get more of this bc i live for it
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the fucking blowdart. i cannot tell you how fucking off the walls these teens are like espio's instructed to use a blowdart on sonic with non-lethal poison and he's like yeah that checks out and sonic's just like wow cool guess i'll snooze for a bit then like this shit is exactly why teenagers should be given superpowers and be put into Situations(TM) i love it
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not an april fools game making me emotional over trains
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and why yes i am obsessed obviously
it was a fun game! like tbh with a bit more content i would've been happy to pay a bit for this honestly (like. when im not broke lmao) like it's so charming and there were a lot of fun details and the jokes were enjoyable too. i just think it's neat :)
but yea that is all im glad sonic the hedgehog got murdered it was a great time
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hej! so first of all I'd like to thank you for all the amazing work you do, honestly you're my hero.
second, I wanted to know if you know any fanfictions with both stiles and derek point of view (preferable they being enemies at the beginning) because I've been looking for some like this and can't find. thanks!
I love alternating POV. Here's some with enemies to lovers for you.
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Witch in my woods by changez
(1/1 I 5,003 I Teen)
Leaving his pack, Stiles is inexplicably drawn to the West Coast. Unbeknownst to Stiles, someone is inexplicably drawn to him.
only you can mend by bibliosexual
(1/1 I 7,226 I Mature)
The roommate part seems like the best idea of them all, at least for the first day or so of knowing him, before Stiles shows up.
Scott McCall is nineteen, athletic and cheerful with a surfer-bro kind of vibe. There’s something about his face, his goofy puppy grin and floppy hair and warm brown eyes, that reads as inherently wholesome. Derek likes that a lot. He likes the way Scott introduces himself with an easy, “Hey, man, nice to meet you,” and he likes the gentle yet firm way he shakes Derek’s hand. He’s the opposite of everyone Derek associated with in New York. He’s the kind of person Derek needs right now in his life. He’s going to be the perfect roommate.
And then there’s Stiles Stilinski.
How to Uncook an Egg by suburbanmotel
(1/1 I 15,406 I Mature)
It's all fun and games until someone gets their stupid feelings puked on.
//
Derek stares. “What are you talking about, Stiles?”
Stiles groans and surges forward, mouth on Derek’s mouth, hands in Derek’s hair, on the sides of his face, the back of his neck.
“No strings attached, ok?” Stiles says, breathless, against the side of Derek’s face, his jaw, his ear. “We can do that, if that’s what you want.”
“Is that whatyouwant?” Derek says. His hands are under Stiles' shirts, sliding against smooth smooth skin, up his sides around to his back, down the notches of his spine, everything warm and smooth. “Is it?”
Stiles just kisses him hard, harder and Derek just keeps kissing him back.
Or:
Derek never stays the night. Stiles pretends he doesn’t mind.
Baby and the Body by never_love_a_wild_thing
(8/8 I 28,179 I Teen)
Stiles recreates models' Instagram photos with his baby. At a fashion show one day, he runs into the model who's pictures he uses most often (and most ironically). Somehow they work through the animosity and find a family.
From The Wreckage by orphan_account, Winchesterek
(5/5 I 58,058 I Explicit)
The only thing Stiles wanted was a little freedom. He wanted to be able to walk where he wanted in the forest, wanted to be able to do what he wanted when he wanted and most of all he wanted to be an adult, especially because he was one. The last thing he wanted was to feel trapped by the Argent's rules about curfew. He understood that there were werewolves and getting too close to the were-border was dangerous, but hell if he was going to let that stop him from having a little fun.
Needless to say, fun was overrated and all Stiles wanted was to go home to his friends and father now.
Tell Me It's a Sure Thing by ofherlionheart
(10/10 I 67,451 I Mature)
Beacon Hills is a small town, something of a supernatural haven from hunters, but only because the Nemeton exudes so much twisted energy and attracts such ugly nasties on the regular that no hunter wants to get within a hundred miles of it. It is the hollow sanctuary where Derek and Lydia, like many others before and after them, ended up after fleeing from the nightmare of their old lives.
Then M. Stiles Stilinski arrives. Bodies begin to appear, hunters become bold enough to venture across town lines, and secrets begin to surface. But somehow, in spite of the growing chaos … Stiles is making it better.
You Don't Always Get What You Want by deadly_nightshade, Nerdy_fangirl_57
(7/? I 63,105 I Mature)
Stiles doesn't understand what he could have done to deserve this. Not only has the entire student body been out to get him since he first stepped foot into Beacon Hills High, but now he has to endure the constant bullying without his best friend Scott by his side. All in all school is survivable, even with all the harassment. That is until he finds out that Derek Hale, basketball superstar and Stiles' most persistent bully, is apparently his soulmate. Fan-fucking-tastic.
Derek can't believe this. It has to be a joke, it has to, because there is no way in hell that a freak like Stilinski could ever be his soulmate. He despises him more than anyone in the universe. So what if Derek thinks he has a cute nose, no one needs to know. Besides it doesn't matter anyway, he still hates Stilinski with every fiber of his being, his cute nose doesn't change a thing.
let slip the dogs of war by creationmyth
(12/12 I 86,920 I Explicit)
He stares at himself in the mirror. His cheeks are faintly blotchy, flush sparsely coloring down his neck. His eyes look glassy and half-crazed. “Get it the fuck together,” he growls lowly to his reflection. “You loseeverything. Get fucking used to it.”
He can’t stop thinking about it. How Derek looked at him, said his name reverently rather than disdainfully.
Stiles sits on the shower floor, shivering even though the spray is far too hot. He keeps replaying the words over and over -sometimes the person someone shows us and the person we choose to see are two different people.
For the first time, Stiles takes a moment to seriously consider that perhaps he has never known Derek Hale at all. 
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shmeiliarockie · 1 year
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I just reread Peter Pan and Wendy and now I really want to write “Peter gets dragged kicking and screaming into growing up a little bit at a time against his will and then there’s Wendy and what the hell is a kiss?” and “oops, I guess I’m actually some immortal fae creature stuffed into some rando kid’s body and if either me or Hook dies for realz Neverland will too but we’re both really getting bored here we need fresh blood” and “I was kidnapped from India by a wealthy British woman who tried to remove every last bit of who I was (culture, childhood, every last thing) and that’s why I left fuck her white savior bullshit I’d rather be a child forever than ever grow up into what she wanted me to be” and “yeah he’s my mortal enemy and I’ll feed him to the crock given the chance, but we always make time for tea, gossip, and a wee bit of philosophy every day between swordfights”
But also “creepy af feral magic teen boy wears his own baby teeth on a necklace seeking a someone willing to roleplay being his mother and the ever-so-slightly unhinged teen girl ready to teach him manners if it’s the last thing she does and it’s like Twilight if Twilight was actually a self-aware toxic romance set in a world of mermaids and fairies and pirates”
And “Wendy’s great-granddaughter (who is also named Wendy) puts her foot down and refuses to play Mother to Peter and flips her shit over the generational trauma he unknowingly created before striking out on her own until he genuinely apologizes, then they have adventures as platonic bffs” 
And “no one stays dead in Neverland for long, unfortunately”
And “Wendy asks Peter to stay and he says yes, but gets instant buyer’s remorse and has to do a lot of soul searching before deciding whether or not he is or will ever be ready to grow up or if he will return to the land of make-believe... While Wendy has to decide if he’s even worth her energy or if she should just let him go”
AND “Peter dies at the beginning and transfers the title of Pan to Wendy who will make everyone LIVE in HARMONY so help her GOD- THERE WILL BE PEACE ON MY ISLAND NO IFS ANDS OR BUTS- and Hook really wants Peter back because hyper-competent 16 year old Wendy Pan with a god complex is SO MUCH WORSE than a cocky little 8 year old chaos gremlin with memory problems so he has to figure out how to resurrect the boy to beat the monster he accidentally created”
AND- AND- AND-
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p3nnyworth · 1 year
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Item of business number one: I made a playlist
98% sure most of these will only make sense to me, but enjoy. I'm going to ramble about some music selections under the cut
Northern Star is the Pennywaynes song ever. Something about the structure is perfect for a throuple to me - both quote verses are either Wayne about Alfred. The first verse is Thomas ("he held onto someone and sung out compelled, you're why I was right to trust myself"), the second Martha ("three hours into a three minute call...I've seen the bright side my whole lovely life"), the last is all three ("they ain't casin out weddings that too big a sign, they're just looking at dresses and rings that she likes"). The vibes of this song are just,, so pennywaynes. The very term 'youre my northern star' is just,, there's so much devotion it's Alfred forever and ever. Not only is it Alfred toward the Waynes and vice versa, but Bruce toward Alfred as he's a guiding light in his life.
There Are Worse Things I Could Do (unfortunately the glee version) is a song I'm honest to God tempted to make an animatic of. For me it's Martha and Alfred in their initial low-key enemies stage, just coming into the high society life. It's mostly Martha, and how people treat her like trash, and her frustrations toward Alfred being kind of cagey about their relationship (he has feelings for her but doesn't know how to feel about it). Both of them bond over not being able to how much the gossip gets to in front of Thomas in fear he'll worry ("to cry in front of you, that's the worst thing I could do") and they end up commiserating over that
Billy Don't Be a Hero - ooough this one's about a wife but "Billy keep your head low, Billy don't be a hero, come back to me"... All the batkids including Bruce and extending back to Thomas giving their lives at the expense of Alfred losing them,, wails
Once Upon a Dream and Quartet at the Ballet probably only make sense in my head because I have an animatic for them - honestly they're both just wistful and melancholy songs about memory, and their so grand they make me think about dreaming of people you lost only to wake up to them not being there
Maybe This Time makes my soul ache just in general, but it's also big Alfred energy. Added layer of melancholy because of how Doomed by the Narrative this fucker is. This and Man Without Love are songs I think he'd sing at karaoke.
Not on the playlist because they don't fit but also eat my brain:
Does Your Mother Know from Mamma Mia as a fun upbeat Pennywaynes animatic in that phase where Thomas was infatuated with Martha but they were so Out There together Alfred was constantly cleaning up after their chaos
What is This Feeling from Wicked, specifically for the All-star Batman adjacent au I have where Alfred and Thomas meet as teens (Alfred in his Punk Era wanting to be anything BUT a butler, Thomas in still stuck in his rich boy ways) and hate each other at first
I probably can assemble more but the need to make this playlist coherent is getting me lol. Anyway I love you bye
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absurdcosmonaut · 20 days
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Sometimes I constantly debate with myself about where Sonic’s origins would be thematically.
Like… does the underground take of a regular(ish) teen suddenly thrust into the role of a monarch fit? Eh… it does fulfill the a lot of the questions about his powers and affinity for chaos, but in terms of him literally take down gods I struggle to conceptualize how a monarch would suddenly be the key. Maybe he was the extra special boy in the prophecy? But then the issue arises that the need for a royal plot is a moot point then anyway. Thinking about it… does Sonic even really need to be some lost prince to find the motivation to overthrow Robotnik? Most interpretations I have read portray as fighting Robotnik before his sibs even arrive, so even this point seems to be moot.
So then, the issue we have about Sonic’s origins is that we need a believable, down to earth, humble beginnings story that also threads the needle of an exceptional reason for the emeralds to massively prefer him.
This is the thought process my really weird au idea was born from.
Essentially, here’s the pitch:
Chaos existed alone at first in a state of constant uniform senselessness, where matter and energy meant nothing. However, upon reflection reasoned that a universe in perfect harmony, chaotic as though that harmony may be, resulted in a form of order regardless. So, he creates Mobius and its inhabitants to breakup the monotony of the universe. After all what would be of a god lauded for its dominion over “destruction” without a creation to destroy?
Living things in general were far more unpredictable than anything else in existence, so naturally chaos would favor them.
However… the god of “destruction” had one more trick up its sleeve. Though Chaos valued all life, they took a particular liking to mammals (and potentially a few other animals) for their social and nurturing nature.
It was a group of these mammals Chaos would gather and bestow the ultimate chaotic gift: free will and sentience
With this gift a pantheon was suddenly called forth from the void. The beliefs and interactions these creatures held necessitated the emergence of other gods.
The first of these species, the echidnas, dedicated their lives to the worship and mystical properties of chaos.
The hedgehogs came next and upon discovering the power of the echidnas, used the knowledge to bring about the destruction of the world and the begging of the dark age.
A few thousand years later and many new animals would come to enjoy the fruits of free will while others rejected it. Many species experienced schisms between those that gained sentience and those that stuck to their animalistic nature.
The chaos emeralds were created to ensure that the gods and Mobius would always have a backup plan if an upset were to occur… like Robotnik and the emeralds perhaps…?
Thus we have Sonic, from a long lineage of chaos users… but what if he was secretly more? What if Sonic was actually chaos himself manifesting in mobian form but because of the discrepancy can’t grasp his true nature due to his physical limitations.
It would explain why Sonic has such a blank spot in his origins with his closest friends. Why he had to be taught to speak by Tails. Why he was raised in nature alone. It wasn’t that trauma or happenstance that he would go on to defeat other gods. It would also explain why Sonic was particularly special among chaos users. Sonic should be chaos.
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onecantsimply · 1 year
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I get it. Spanish is hard as fuck- 💀💀
That being said. I'm hooked with your teen!reader series. Can I request maybe their daily life headcannons since living with Jack?
YES YES PLEASE- I WAS DOING A TEST TOO SO I WAS FUCKING PANICKING-  Anyways yes you can request headcanons-
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Jack knows his hair gets more gray with you around. Well you ain’t bad- You’re just a handful- Lmfao he enjoys it, but he can’t help but let out a sigh at times. The utter energy you can emit while you’re with him can have neighbors that would probably throw something out their window and into your own. He gets why. He really does get why- 
- But still, he’s glad about how much chaos you bring him. It could bring him victims to brutalize if they dare to do something to you, whether he is around for the event or not. But with that, it also spreads more noise around the house, as well as the comfort of knowing that you’re okay. A comfort of knowing that his child is processing fine, even after all they had went through. 
- He could just be drinking tea and reading a type of book. Perhaps compilations of Shakespeare’s quotes, remembering and memorizing each one. And then he hears a few clattering from upstairs. It can either make him smile faintly with faintly raised eyebrows, or it can make him sigh with faint disappointment once he hears the string of curses that flows from your voice. 
“Language!”
But honestly, Jack may have you help him around in the house. Whether it be with daily chores or simple tasks that he may need some help with when working from home. Either way, it has his life easier. He’ll reward you with tea and treats right after. A good reward for a hard day’s work, right? Perhaps some rare head pats after. 
- When it comes to school work, Jack pops in to help you at times. Whether it be with helping you take a break, or if it be helping you with your work. When it will come to things like the Human Body or things like English homework, bet your ass that he can help you. Of course he won’t give direct answers, but he’ll get you on the right track so that you can work things out for yourself. 
- Just because of him, you have excellent grades. Of course he may notice when they start to stoop a small bit but he’s not too worried unless he knows when you’re truly getting burnt out. Those times may be one of the worst, so he advises that you do what you can before he has you rest for a good while. Due to your own past, he knows that you couldn’t really just... stop doing work when you get burnt out because of... previous parents. But that won’t fly in his house. Not with him- Expect some of your favorite treats and some tea when you’re done with what you can manage. He’ll cover for you if the teachers call him in for something- 
“Good job, Dear. Rest for now.” 
When it comes to things like bullying or you getting picked on for something, Jack isn’t standing for it. He is quite literally going to accompany you too school and he will make sure he has info on the students that are picking on you. Those people will not expect what they’re going to get after school. 
- They’re getting abducted for the day. Jack’s going to make it clear of why he had kidnapped them both to you and the children, and he will make sure that they don’t pick on you again. Of course he won’t go as far as to kill them, but he’ll make sure they’re traumatized. You got a very overprotective Father. Congratulations for you. And when they’re released, the very next day, they don’t come up to you. They don’t talk, they don’t look, they don’t even do anything towards you. Nada. Nope. 
“Touch my child again and I will not just traumatize you next time.” 
Overall, life with Jack is a very big improvement compared to what it was before with your previous parental figures. But you got an overprotective Father figure now. Expect nothing but the best treatment.
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insom-nom-nom-niatic · 4 months
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So hear me out...
I cannot stop thinking about this Teen Wolf story that's been plaguing my mind for the past month... and it goes a little something like this:
Set in present day which brings most characters to be in their early 30's/late 20's.
Issac ends up on his own (away from Argents) in the forrest regions of France or England.
He meets a (insert fae creature/possibly also over run by a "dormant" demon) and that's his mate. Both supernatural beings trying to lay low and now get burned at the stake but ALSO keep the near town safe. (I still don't have a name for her uuuuuuugh)
Most of the characters live near the couple along with a small "pack" of not only werewolves and Banshees this time.
The pack doesn't have an Alpha cause fuck that bullshit but Issac being himself is pretty much the Alpha/leader. (His partner runs the chaos club but he tries to keep everything under control)
Issac met Theo on his last trip back to Beacon Hills, needing help from Chris Argent and befriending Theo, bring him back to (wherever he's living) and growing a close, brotherly bond with the slightly younger were-being. BFF bond!
Kira found Issac's mate in a time of need, helping her recover and becoming BFFs for better or for worst. She has become a close friend of Isaac because of this and their shared histories (what some might call betrayal) with Scott, and is the one he looks to when things begin to really pop-off.
Stiles ends up on a special FBI mission to the town, given his interests in the abnormal, and finds himself at Issac's doorstep.
After the death of Aiden, Ethan found solace in Issac and a reason to protect the innocent while also being a part of a pack alone. He couldn't be in a pack with more Alpha energy given everything that had happened, but also needs a team to keep him in line. (He and the girl may or may not have resurrected Aiden)
Danny followed close behind Ethan and continues to learn all he can about the supernatural and becoming a bit of a witch in some sense. Though, he and Ethan called it quites, both remain the other's biggest supporter.
Parish comes along on the more difficult "hunting" missions, letting his hound out to play in order to keep the peace back at home.
Braeden follows (though she really didn't need to) Parish to find the pack after noticing more and more bodies being found in very random towns throughout the globe, emanating to this one area. But lends her own services to the impending doom with some faces from the past.
Meredith lends a hand when things get tricky, having odd knowledge of the supernatural since coming back from her catatonic state and learning from one of the eldest Druids in Europe. She keeps an eye on Issac's mate when she gets her "feelings" of something being off. Knowing the ticking time bomb in their midst.
THE PLOT:
As more and more supernatural beings begin to invade the wildscapes of (insert town), the pack get stopped by a group of wild shapes outside Isaac's property alerting them to the imminent threat to all living creatures. The pack now have to prepare, comprehend, and fight a presence that has had millennias to build its strength.
Not to mention, the creatures taking advantage of the chaos to come.
Some will thrive.
Some won't survive.
Some can be trusted and some will break them all.
Everyone is a threat to someone.
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house-of-slayterr · 1 year
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Domestic Life with the Zsasz Family:
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An: I had a shit day at work so I need some of their chaos to combat mine 😂 also I need to write more of Vanellope, I haven’t written much of her yet, and I want to give her more of a personality. Just imagine a baby Victor with Barbra’s sass.
@flaysthings @keffirinne @howl-fantasies
Oswald built a separate wing in his mansion for them. As much as he adored keeping Maggie close, he does like to distance himself from Victor. Things always break when Y/N and Victor are on the same room, and Oswald was growing tired of replacing things. They’re in charge of everything that happens in their part of the house. Oswald doesn’t enter their space and he doesn’t want to.
Basil is an early bird, I’m pretty sure this kid never sleeps. He’s got eye bags for days and practically lives on coffee. Because of this, he’s the first one up on the morning and always brews more than enough coffee. He knows Y/N is picky, and not a fan of American coffee, so if he knows she’ll be home, he’ll stop by her favorite coffee shop and bring her a fresh cappuccino.
Victor is the next to rise, he hates sleeping cause it makes him “vulnerable”. Despite Basil not being his biggest fan, the two boys are capable of getting along. But it’s more like they can both occupy the same space for more than an hour without trying to kill each other. He just silently poor Vic a coffee and the two don’t dare to open their mouths. Why should they, there is nothing to talk about.
Y/N needs her beauty sleep, she’s always the last to wake up. She flat out told Oswald not to call her for an emergency before noon. Oswald has enough respect for her (and values his life) enough to keep that promise. Besides he knows Vic will be up, so he’ll just call in his second best assassin. The house better be on fucking fire if one of them wake her up.
V is a moody teenage girl, she too is not one to be woken before she’s ready. This girl may only be 4’11 and weight 100lbs soaking wet, but she could drop a groan man before he even blinks. She’s ruthless and sadistic like her father, and it only got worse once she actually met him. You would have to bride her with no less that $50 to join “family breakfast” even then, she’ll show up for five second, shove some toast in her mouth, flip you off and leave. And while you weren’t paying attention, she totally pickpocketed another $50. Your fault for letting your guard down in Gotham city.
Maggie has probably the most normal routine out of all of them. She goes to bed at a normal time, wakes up when the rest of the world does, and has never been late to work a day in her life. She full on gives herself time to shower, pick an outfit, do her hair and makeup, cool breakfast for everyone, and get an extra coffee on her way into work. Sometimes Basil will just sit there and watch her run around and get ready, even helping out sometimes by handing her something if she misplaced it. Which is rare, and it’s more likely that Victor moved something just to fuck with her.
It’s incredibly rare if they’re all home at the same time. And nobody in their right mind would dare to interrupt the families morning routine. If the five of them have collectively decided to be civil and eat together, you’d be an dead man if you stood in the way of that plan. Between Y/N being ready to shoot you in the knees every chance she gets, V knowing how to knock someone out in under 5 seconds with a pressure point, Basil’s super strength, Victors knife throwing skills (he can and will kill you with his butter knife and continue to make breakfast lien nothing happened) and Maggie knowing how to make anyone feel guilty, it’s best to just leave them be. Maggie has been able to make grown men cry with a single look.
Now breakfast is a grand even in this household. With everyone’s jobs and life styles, a lot of food is needed to maintain energy and stamina. V is a growing teen, she could eat 5 pop tarts without even thinking about it. Basil is a meta human and eats almost three times more food than everyone else. Vic and Y/N have to keep their bodies in shape for their assassin work. But Maggie isn’t really much of a breakfast person, she eats more out of necessity than wanting to. It’s a full feast of omelettes, hash browns, bacon, sausage, Maggie’s tofu scramble and or smoothies, and entire gallon of Orange juice, and more than enough coffee to fuel a small village.
There isn’t really much room for talking with everyone stuffing their faces, but if talking does occur it’s never good.
Victor: you know Y/N and I have fucked on this table right?
Maggie: *spits out coffee and covers Vanellope’s ears* Why the fuck would you say that you crazy old bastard? The fuck is wrong with you? We were having a good time and you just had to go and ruin it!
Victor: *smirking like an idiot*
Basil: Maggie, just stop reacting you’re giving him what he wants.
Maggie: I’m sorry I have emotions Basil, maybe you should try it sometime!
V: *snickering and removing Maggie’s hands from her head* Jokes on you, I dissected a rat on this table.
Maggie: *starring with wide eyes* I swear to god if anything else has done something deplorable on this table I picked out for us-
Basil: *swallowing and avoiding eye contact*
Maggie: *glaring suspiciously* what did you do?
Basil: I may or may not have used one of your chairs to torture one of Kean’s lackeys.
Maggie: *quoting that one vine* this house is a fucking nightmare!
Based on how breakfast goes, Maggie will warn Oswald about her “parents” mood for the day. At least someone’s gotta have a good day, right? She totally goes to Alfred and asks him how to get Blood stains out of Mahogany. Alfred doesn’t ask questions cause he’s a smart man.
If Maggie is busy or stressed and forgets to eat, V and V won’t do much. They just kinda glare at her but let it slide. But Basil and Y/N take that shit seriously. They aren’t above force feeding her. Of course Basil has a more gentle approach and he will interrupt her, or go to her work and sit down to eat with her. But Y/N will straight up tie the girl to a chair and shove food down her throat if she has to. She does not fuck around.
Now if the family gets together at night, it’s take out time. They’ll order from places all around the city, and each of them will get their own tub of ice cream. You’re probaby think it’s costs a lot right? Wrong! You think anyone in their right mind is going to demand the Y/N Zsasz pay them for their services. Ha! That’s a joke. She threatens her way into free food all the time, and she has no shame in it. Of course she can afford to pay, Oswald pays her handsomely, but it’s the Principle. And the name of the game is ✨Crime✨.
It doesn’t matter that Vanellope is only like 14, (she’s Selena and Bruce’s age) they will watch rated R horror films. Of course Maggie being the only reasonable adult there (Basil is a close second, but he forgets that children V’s age shouldn’t be seeing those things) draws the line at anything that has too much sexual content. Besides she doesn’t really want to be in the same room as Y/N of Vic if a sex scene comes on. That’s just awkward, and she’d honestly rather be tortured by Wendell again.
Vic is the worst person to watch movies with. He just complains that the gore isn’t realistic enough. Y/N is not about just making out with him on the couch to shut him the fuck up so everyone else can enjoy the film. As if anyone can pay attention to the screen while they’re doing that. V usually sits on the floor and works on whatever little trinket she’s building at the time. She likes to multitask. And Maggie is usually leaned against Basil snuggling under a blanket. Kryptonians are exceptionally warm, who needs a heater when you have Basil? Basil doesn’t really care much about what they watch, he’s just happy Maggie is Happy and Y/N and Victor aren’t currently trying to kill each other.
He’s the one that gets up to get extra snacks or alcohol if anyone wants it. Maggie takes movie night seriously and will talk about the movie for like 3 days after. Everyone pretends to be annoyed but they secretly think it’s cute how excited she gets. Like she’ll watch a Zombie film and three days later be following Vic around like “but if you put that many nails in a bat, wouldn’t it be useless? There’s not enough space between them for the nails to penetrate skin.” And obviously Vic wants to give her an answer, for scientific purposes obviously. Not just cause he wanted an excuse to make a zombie apocalypse weapon and try it out on some poor sap who wolf Whistled at his wife.
If V falls asleep durring movie night, Victor will pretend he doesn’t care. But one glare from Maggie has him picking up his daughter and carrying her to her room to tuck her in. Nobody saw him give her a kiss on the forehead and he’s going to keep it that way. And if Maggie falls asleep, they all have pretty much the same response, just leave her be and drape a blanket over her. But more often than not, Y/N or Basil will notice her getting sleepy, and force her to go off to bed. Maggie is the only semi normal one out of all of them, and nobody what’s to be the one to fuck that up.
Craziest of all however, is anytime the family comes together because somebodies fucked with one of them. Wether that be directly or messing with one of their loved ones. Despite what it seems, with how bat shit insane Victor and Y/N are all of the time, they do know how to show restraint. And they show it often. You never show someone all your cards right? People are already terrified of them just by name, and they aren’t even using their full potential. And we already know Basil is fiercely protective and doesn’t give two shits about the law.
Maggie and Vanellope are a little more civilised. But they don’t fuck around then it comes to family. Maggie is willing to give her life without hesitation. And V is willing to take one. She doesn’t shy away from blood or gore, but she really specialised in the mental torture side of things. Whatever idiot fucked with her family will end up in Arkham for sure. And even then they aren’t free from the teen. Y/N has connections and V will beg her to use them to fuck with the villain from the inside.
Despite having killed people when she was a child under the Doll Maker’s rule, and now having dropped Ivy and Sofia, Maggie still isn’t a cold blood killer. She doesn’t like to get her hands dirty if she doesn’t have to. So while the family is torturing whatever idiot tried to test them, Maggie is comfortable on the distraction duty. AKA operation distract Jim Gordon. A nice lunch, a wild goose chase or a heated make out session, you take your pick. Jim is a weak man, and no matter how hard he tries or how suspicious he is that she’s hiding something, he can’t resist her charms. She’s not afraid to show a little cleavage to get his attention all on her.
You know what they say, families that SLAY together STAY together…
An: Nobodies says that, but they should lol!
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luverofralts · 2 years
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Arkhelios University
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Finding the bookcase that Nathan mentioned was far easier than Roman had expected. Considering that Nathan alleged that Dorhack had an interest in this so called secret room, Roman figured that it would be harder to find. He’d had to sneak past the war currently taking place in the Rivales dining room to get to it though. Lucy, Pia and Elaine were currently shouting over each other at the top of their lungs, making it easy to pass by unnoticed. Emilia had left the chaos, probably to return to the Durant house to gather her thoughts. At this rate, by the time Elaine got around to shouting at her son, she’d already be hoarse. Nathan might just escape his mother’s wrath if she spent all of her energy on reprimanding her new heir. He’d probably get an earful later, but if he played his cards right, Elaine’s natural instincts to avoid parenting might kick in and Nathan might quickly be ignored and merely resented by his mother.
This whole Chun disaster made Roman thankful that his grandparents were dead and buried. He couldn’t imagine trying to tolerate his grandmother telling him who to marry and what career to choose, or putting up with his grandfather’s attempts to push him into the paths of people he deemed worthy. Roman still lived in the shadow of his deceased family members, but at least he had the opportunity to make his own decisions. He shuddered to think about training his own heir one day. It would presumably be Theo, and his son had had enough issues trying to find his purpose. There was no chance of Roman trying to force his son into a mold that he didn’t fit. Well, he hoped so anyway. Who knew what having a teenager that powerful would be like?
The family album lay on the middle shelf of a plain bookcase in the hall. It looked completely ordinary. If Nathan hadn’t mentioned it, Roman would have just passed it by. He had horrible and strange photos of his own family; he didn’t need to dive into what could possibly be Kaeileen’s baby photos, or a scrapbook of Jolanda’s victims.
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With a steadying breath, Roman pulled on the book, only to find that it was bolted to the wooden bookcase. Moving it triggered some mechanism that swung the bookcase around, nearly smashing Roman against the wall as it spun.
When the bookcase had locked back into place, Roman closed his eyes, counted to ten and then prepared himself for the worst thing he could possibly imagine. It was better to prepare for the worst and then be pleasantly surprised if he was wrong. Anything having to do with his mother was always terrible. What would he find in this room? Some kind of bloody altar? A detailed plan to kill Abe and steal away their son? His mother’s recorded confession to every crime she’d been accused of?
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Roman was almost disappointed to see a sparsely decorated room, filled with strange objects.
This isn’t that bad. Some of this stuff could have been stolen from one of Abraham’s secret lairs. After finding the cavern under the Helios house crammed full of bloody inscriptions and an unsettling amount of infant items, this room looks almost normal. Well, normal for Arkhelios anyway.
He tried to make an inventory in his mind of what he was seeing. Over in the corner, a large pile of books called to him. He already had a stash of disturbing literature from his grandmother; he could start his own creepy library of terrifying books if he borrowed a few from the owner of this secret place.
Roman could identify some of the odd items, such as a lie detector machine and what he assumed was the DIY plastic surgery device that had mangled Kaeileen as a teen. Who did they belong to? Jolanda would be the obvious candidate, as the ability to change your face and practice passing lie detector tests would be invaluable for her line of “work”. Then again, Emilia had been an actress in her younger years which was also a line of work that required eternal beauty and an ability to fool others into believing obvious lies.
What kind of phone just hovers in mist like that? Who does it call? Could it connect me to someone who knows about my mother? Was this all that Nathan wanted me to see? What does this all have to do with my mother?
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A loud crash came from downstairs, jolting him from his thoughts. Lucy and Pia were likely escalating their arguments into physical violence, which meant that Elaine might try to find her favourite non-biological child to help calm them down. If he was lucky, she might just think that he gave up and went home. If he wasn’t lucky, Nathan might tell her where he’d gone to save himself. Roman had never been so glad to be able to teleport in his life. Now that he knew about this room, he could just teleport back here when he needed.
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With a heavy sigh, he began inspecting the walls of the room for answers. Just because he could return here, it didn’t mean that he wanted to risk the owner of this room finding out that someone had discovered it.
Displayed openly on the wall was a picture of his mother, in her dark form no less. Few were brave enough to even mention Kamalani. All pictures of her outside of the Bellamy house had vanished from the walls of Arkhelios. Roman probably owned every copy of any photo his mother had ever been in. Several were “donated” to Wanda’s office anonymously after Dorhack’s arrival. Omar had kept a few that his wives had found in his wallet after he passed, and with his death, Roman now owned those too. The only exception seemed to be his mother’s art. Now that she was infamous and presumed dead, the value of all of her paintings and sculptures had skyrocketed. He didn’t ever intend on selling anything of his mother’s that he could obsess over, looking for some secret meaning, but it was nice to know that if he ever decided to, maybe they could pay for Theo’s college education after all.
The portrait of his mother was painted in a style that seemed to match her own work. Roman had no idea about the technical ways paintings were made, but Abe occasionally dabbled with art and had opinions on Kamalani’s work. She had been talented enough to earn a comfortable living selling her art, while Abe usually just drew sketches whenever he had the time to draw, so as much as Roman loved him, he usually didn’t pay much attention to Abe’s art critiques.
Would she have taught Theo how to paint if she were here? No, probably not. She seemed pretty insistent on obliterating him out of my life. She never even taught me how to paint. She was too busy running away from me and Dad.
Roman ran a finger along the edge of the portrait’s frame. In tiny print in the bottom right hand corner were the initials RR. He ran through every scrap of information he’d collected about his mother in his mind. There were no relevant names that he could remember that started with R. Her little secret family of Osbert and Keiki had no connection to any names that began with R either. The only name that began with R was his own, and he’d certainly never painted anything worth hanging on a wall.
Curious, he gently eased the painting off of the wall, checking for hidden booby traps. His mother loved traps and there was a decent chance that this secret art collector probably did too if they were such a fan of her work.
There was a small inscription handwritten on the back in pencil.
“To Gio,” Roman read slowly. ”Here’s something to remember me by while I’m gone. I don’t do many self portraits, but I’ll be gone for a long time; long enough for you to forget what I look like. Give me a call if you need to talk. Love...Aunt Romana?”
He sputtered reading the dedication, his mind conjuring ideas that he didn’t know how to process.
“Aunt Romana?” he repeated, staring into the painted eyes of his mother. “RR. Romana Rivales, it has to be. You didn’t name me after your favourite painter...You named me after yourself.”
Suddenly the room felt like it was spinning out of control. What had Ginevra said about Romana? What information had he willfully ignored as boring gossip? His mind raced through his memory, looking for clues.
There’s a picture of Grandma with Mom at an exhibition of Romana’s paintings. It was in that book Theo found. When Grandma was a teenager, Mom took her to see Romana’s work, that’s what the caption said, I think. Grandma just neglected to mention that my mom had yet another secret life that I don’t know about. My mother became a somewhat famous artist under one name, and then did paintings in the same style under another! How many twisted secrets does that woman have? What’s her real name? Why-
Roman paused mid thought, suddenly exhausted from the mental energy of chasing after his mother’s ghost. Beside the troubling portrait, there was an ominous poster of what looked like Emilia- if she had been warped by some kind of dark magic, that was.
I don’t have time for all of this. My mom has two secret lives now, Lucy’s destroyed her entire future with the Rivales, my Mom is leaving paintings to Giovanni, Emilia has something shady she’s hiding....Just for once, can something in my life be normal? All of this on top of running a foreign estate, managing my own house, dealing with three kids, trying to start some kind of career and worrying about pregnant Abe. I need a vacation, except every time I leave the country, some kind of bullshit about my family pops up.
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With another heavy sigh, Roman took some quick photos of the room with his phone, and grabbed as many creepy books as he could carry in his arms. There was no way that he was going back downstairs to be stressed out even further by the Chun siblings. He was teleporting home, pouring himself a drink, and locking his office door.
I can always come back later to finish up investigating my mother’s web of lies. Except- Nathan mentioned that Dorhack knew about this place. Was this his secret area? It doesn’t seem as bloody as he made the Chun house, so I doubt it. What is with the Rivales family anyway? Is my mother really a Rivales, or is that just another lie? Does Dorhack have anything to do with that creepy picture of Emilia? It’s not pink enough to be any part of the void that I’ve seen, but- No. No more speculation. Just day drinking until Abe and the kids are home. We can worry about all of this together.
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potterhq · 2 years
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                CHAOS AT HOGWARTS QUIDDITCH PITCH
Erica Loudergreen, Sr. Correspondent for the Daily Prophet
HOGSMEADE VILLAGE, SCOTLAND - It was a devastating sight at the Ministry of Magic’s party leaders’ debate yesterday evening when the voice of notorious Dark witch Bellatrix Lestrange rang through Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch declaring anti-Muggleborn sentiments. The scene was evocative of public attacks made during the Great Wizarding War, with the crowd composed of the greater wixen public as well as Hogwarts school children racing for every available exit as hexes rained down from indeterminate locations. Official Ministry security and volunteers were able to evacuate the scene and halt all spellfire in approximately 32 minutes, but the damage was already done: 
“It was MADNESS,” said Elspeth Weekes, 57. She, her wife, and their three children were separated during the chaos; all have been reunited, uninjured, as of the writing of this article. “Like something out of a nightmare. I looked around and suddenly I was alone. What was that horrible woman thinking, attacking a place with so many children?”
The Auror Department released a statement to the press following the attack: Bellatrix Lestrange was confirmed as being present at the debate while the attack took place; she is believed to have at least five other accomplices and all are currently at-large, whereabouts unknown. There are zero reported deaths, though fifteen wix are currently hospitalized in St. Mungos for injuries. While the majority are expected to recover quickly, three people remain in critical condition for damage related to the Cruciatus curse, the very malediction that Lestrange was charged for casting on Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom in 1980. 
When pressed for further comment, Interim Head Auror Zacharias Smith told the Daily Prophet: “This crime is still under investigation, honestly, you people know that I cannot divulge details of--” CONT. ON PAGE 5, COLUMN 3.
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“...it is remarkable, really, that this woman has managed to live off of the energy generated by her festering obsession with a dead snake-man and her own, bloated ego for this long. While we may share ancestry, Bellatrix Lestrange is no more my great-aunt than I am a three-tonne purple elephant with sparkling wings. Some may wonder how I am able to treat her violent acts with such flippancy, but the matter is this: blood purity as a concept is erroneous, pathetic, and ridiculous. It is by mocking Bellatrix Lestrange that I hope not to stop her reign of terror, a task I will leave to those much more adept at defensive magics than me. Rather, I want to illuminate these truths - that this woman is ludicrous, her “cause’ is ludicrous - and no good or sane person on this Earth should ever want to be like her…” 
--excerpt from “I’m Writing This From My Hospital Bed In St. Mungo’s Because I Am Actually That Furious” for Teen Witch Weekly, by Scorpius Malfoy
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From the Office of Magic and Might Party Leader, Selene R. Blishwick
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE 
I am deeply saddened to see political theatrics dominate the headlines following last night’s debate, rather than the pressing issues facing our British magical population today. My thoughts and spiritual focus is with the victims currently recuperating at St. Mungo’s, and I wish them peace and healing after this preventable attack. 
The so-called “Order of the Phoenix” has claimed responsibility for the tribute to the late Minister Shacklebolt and Auror Harry Potter, and I have little doubt in my mind that they also orchestrated the ambush in order to “prove” that their vigilante antics are needed. I assure you, they are not. Under my leadership, I vow to transform the Ministry of Magic from a reactive, weak force to the absolute security that is needed to protect our most valuable - and vulnerable - magical peoples, especially our children. 
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Thank you all for participating in our opening event! The timestamp is now OCTOBER 1ST THROUGH OCTOBER 30TH, 2029. You are welcome to continue + wrap up threads from the Ministry Debate, but please do not post any new starters for that event. 
The above article excerpts + press release are our creative way of wrapping things up. Hopefully, this will give you all some inspiration and your characters something to react to in-game! See you on the dash!
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specialkbrown · 1 year
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BASICS
Legal Name: Keltie Georgia Brown Nicknames/Alias: Kelt, Kel, Doc DOB: Jan 1 1993 Gender: cis female Sexuality: heterosexual, heteroromantic Place of Birth: Barking Public Hospital, London Currently: London Nationality: English   Day Occupation: Phlebotomist   Jolly Rancher Occupation: Poison/Serum maker
HISTORY Childhood/Family Life: Keltie was born to a 15 year old mother, a girl who was passed from gang member to gang member in order to way-lay the rent she and her family were late on. There has never been that much of an investigation on anyone’s behalf as to who her father was and Keltie doesn’t care to know. Her mother dropped out of school to raise her and took up many different jobs – all minimum wage or ‘free’ before falling into the drug scene and eventually overdosing when Keltie was 16. There was never much food on the table, contributing to the thin (often gaunt) look of Keltie as she grew up.   Education: Attended public schooling, fell in love with the sciences, excelling in particular at biology and chemistry. Awarded a scholarship (given to under privileged teen girls who strived in the sciences) to attend Imperial College London. Graduated with a degree in Biochemistry with a year in industry and Research. Adult Timeline:  2011: awarded scholarship and enrols in Imperial College London. 2011: scholarship included student accommodation in campus living. 2012: took a job working at a pharmacy part time, also began to develop interest in researching illicit substances, probably due to her mother’s habitual use and eventual overdose. 2014: graduates with honours 2015: works in pharmaceutical research, easily bored and finds herself creating better recreational drugs for her old college friends. Begins to make a decent amount of money on the side 2017: connects with Jabberwocks and begins to work in the pharmaceutical creation, but finds herself bored with sticking to the strict guidelines 2019: decides to begin looking ‘elsewhere’ for more stimulating ways to create her own medicines mid-2020: Leaves the Jabberwocks after a rather good pitch from the Jolly Ranchers and spends an entire year creating a serum that will compel most people into ‘forgetting’ the part of their brain that stops them from saying what they’re thinking. 2021: starts human trials on the serum, tweaking what she needs to with several mistakes with local homeless people who are willing to trial her drugs for shelter and money – most of them happy to have a bottle of booze in exchange for 24hours with the drug maker. mid-2022: launches a serum to the Jolly Rogers to stop the inhibition reflex in 78% of people tested.
PERSONALITY
Positives:  +smart: Keltie has found a leg-up in life thanks to the way her brain can process large scientific concepts and produce rather good illicit substances and   +driven: Kel wants to be the best in her field and she is damn sure that she is.   +focussed: Oftentimes Keltie can go days on end without leaving her flat (or the basement of her flat, that is), this is both a positive and a negative trait that fluctuates depending on the situation.
Negatives:  -reclusive: Kelt loves her own space and isn’t really one to let people into her home. It’s chaos, but she knows where everything is and doesn’t like many people in her space.   -manipulative: Keltie often steals blood samples from the lab she works at and finds the quickest way to blame it on her colleagues or clerical errors. With doe eyes and a giggle, she can talk her way out of most situations.   -obsessive: have you seen her notebook? Speaks for itself, really.
Personality Type: ISTP – The Craftsperson
Archetype: The Alchemist
Likes & Dislikes:  + her iPad and Apple Pen + the smell of chimney smoke + writing notes all over her favourite chemistry texts when she finds a better or easier way to conduct a test   + cigarettes + coffee/energy drinks - sleep - being told she’s wrong - other people - small talk/chit chat - Wednesdays (pension day at the blood bank)
RELATIONSHIPS
Parents: Father unknown, Chrystalle Emilia Brown (deceased)   Siblings: None, though with her father unknown, there is a definite possibility to having half siblings. Children: None. Current Partner: [open] Ex-Partners: [open] Boss/Employer: [open]/NHS Co-Workers: [open] Friends: [open] Enemies: [open]
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION
Build: too-thin (gaunt and drawn looking) Hair Colour: light brown/dirty blonde Eye Colour: Grey, large black flick in left iris due to chemical reaction during experimentation in her teens Distinguishing Marks: black flick in left iris, several healed self-harm scars on right forearm, multiple chemical burn scars on her chest and stomach from experiments gone wrong.
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kdipshit · 1 year
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What my teenage self can teach me ;
She’s just as carefree in her teens as she was when she was a child. I do not get the privilege of my teenage memories at this time, but I know they are there, and I know there is good. At some point in time, I chose to rid myself of the memories, knowing that if I ever wanted them back it would take time, to protect myself, from the emotions attached. I don’t think I was equip to deal with the intensity in which I felt all these new emotions, but I am now.
I think when I lost myself I got scared and ran home. I wasn’t looking for myself, I was looking for home, in a sense I guess, thats what it felt like I had lost.
To find home in thyself, is what I think everybody is unconsciously trying to achieve, if of course they haven’t already obtained it, thru a strong sense of self and a wonderful support system, whenever you may encounter them. I feel almost whole again, with myself back. I think the only thing stopping me from saying I’m fully whole again is the mahi that must now be done, I am ready, I am strong, I am fearless. Maybe changing the way I write is changing the way I think…who am I kidding thats definitely the case, and it can actually make sense now aswell.
At some point, the feeling becomes a choice, im okay with being a roller coaster, as long as it’s moving, I can find peace in the wind. Holding on causes my beautiful roller coaster to malfunction, and not run as smooth, it becomes scary. Let go, be free, put your arms up girl. Live and let die.
I want something that you can read, and you can feel. When I was a teenager, tumblr was home to me for some years, I was alone there, i discovered a brilliantly dark side of me which ultimately inspires my art, which ultimately inspires me as a human being, if I really think about it. The dark side, my dark side, is creative, very active, and amazingly bright from within. She can delve deep into the pits of her ocean heart, constantly moving and changing shape. I like it here, it’s chaos, but it’s peacefully done. It’s wholeheartedly done, it’s well thought out and well put together, it’s red and it’s black and it’s white and it’s loud and it’s welcoming. I’m big chillin up in my little corner of hell. Little Nikki’s room is what comes to mind lmao, kinda gives me Muir street room vibes, although I do not remember sharing that room with my sister lol.
My room has always been my safe place, and I was too busy sitting in my room thinking about it to realise I been here. I always thought I had to find a safe place… my creativity comes to life in my room, and it manifests itself on the walls, and on the floors lol. The energy of my room represents the energy of who I am, everything is external and my mark is everywhere. To come to that realisation would bring me to the present moment, and remind myself that I actually exist. I’m everywhere, happily. Happily everywhere.
I don’t want to try to be relatable, I guess I have a lot of people pleasing traits about me that I’m not sure how I got, doesn’t matter I guess bc at the end of every day, I don’t like it. I don’t like trying to constantly get approval, but I don’t know how what caused the trigger to be in the first place. My brain needs some gardening
Procrastination is delaying something knowing it will be worse later. Feelings can only manifest off of a thought. It’s scary to think about how honest I’m about to be in this ‘blog’, this mark, this spit in the universe, I guess it shouldn’t ever matter, it should just be. I’m sure if my mind could speak she would be so proper, like the way I write. I love it I love it so much.
Instead of saying ‘I’m bored’, which creates the negative emotion, say something like, ‘I am fully open to receiving inspiration’, or something maybe idk…
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Anhedonia Chapter 1 Part 1
This turned out to be a lot longer than seemed reasonable for a post so I've split the chapter into 2 parts.
Rhene has long since accepted the fact that her life is boring. She works a job, she goes home to her cat, she has friends she can spend time with. Life is perfectly full of things that make most people perfectly content. But she's not. So maybe going back to school will give her the chance to improve things, change things, find a better a job. There's always a salary increase if you've got a Masters degree and what's a few loans compared to improving ones life? Oh! Ya know, she never got to study abroad as an undergrad! She could totally start off abroad! That's totally exciting, right? At least maybe she'll find something new to hyper-fixate on so she can pretend like her life isn't completely unfulfilling. Yeah, this is totally a great idea. What could possibly go wrong?
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Tags: Long fic, slow burn, eventual poly MC, named MC
CW: None
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Prologue <- Master List -> Chpt 1 Prt 2
Peace in Our Time
Rhen exhaled a long sigh weighed down by the weariness and exhaustion burdening her body. The bedroom door shut with a punt from her heel, feet kicking off shoes before shuffling across the carpet, her bag tumbling off her shoulder to the floor as she flopped onto the welcoming mattress and comforter.
It was only the first week of the foreign exchange program, but she had been run around and kept busy to the point of near-exhaustion. Yet, Rhen still had enough energy to smile, a hidden, secret feeling only for her. It was something she hadn’t felt in a hell of a long time: light and giddy with anticipation like an electrifying surge flooding her system. Memories of being a teen—a kid, really—walking through the painted and poster-ridden halls of high school, holding hands with a guy she couldn’t keep a coherent conversation with as she blustered and flustered after him… the picture saturated her memories. Being an adult now and not an absolute idiot of a teenager, Rhen knew she hadn’t been in love, but it sure had felt like it then, and it sure felt like it now. 
This wasn’t what she had expected from studying abroad. Studying? Sure, of course, maybe some sightseeing on the weekends. But not this. She never even hoped for something like this. The campus was sprawling, architecture ancient and awe inspiring, the students so diverse even despite their human appearance. The university town brought back memories of her time as an Undergraduate, living on campus. Though, back then, the apartments were a hell of a lot smaller. And here, the class selection was too good to be true. For years she had begrudged her university’s class unavailability and selection, but this… This was academic nerd heaven. Being able to learn Infernal, and Infernal and Ancient Human Linguistics was absolutely fascinating! Not to mention Spellcraft, Devildom History, Potions, Curses and Hexes. And magic. Holy shit, there was magic. Real magic! Practicing the Craft was a secret witches held tightly to their chest in the human world, but here?... Damn, she hadn’t been this excited about school in, well, a hell of a long time.
The monotony of life before the program: working a 50 hour work week, everyday, only to go home to sleep or watch a few hours of Netflix while eating microwave meals, was upended by this absolute chaos, and honestly? She couldn’t really complain. Hell, she was ahead of some of her classes just because she wanted to read the textbooks.
Was this all just a dream? A part of her trembled at the thought of this all just being a cruel imagining of her mind.
A yawn wrought open her jaw and she buried her face further in the comforter. She wanted to stay up, to keep reading: it felt like she didn’t have enough time in the day to do all the things she wanted to do. The fact that she even wanted to do anything was a fuckin Christmas miracle and she needed to ride out this wave of energy and motivation for as long as she possibly could and sleep was trying to interfere with her plans. Granted, maybe if she actually left her bedroom for anything besides school then maybe she could get more things done, but then that would increase the risk of running into one of her housemates. Could she even call them housemates? It was more like she was an unwanted guest in their house.
For the most part she had been successful in keeping out of sight of her devilish hosts. Since their first interaction her first night in the entrance hall of the house, Levi hadn’t spoken a word to her, nor had she really seen him, yet he still insisted on existing in her space and spamming her with texts. She almost thought that perhaps he had set up a bot to do his dirty work, if not setting alarms to remind himself to harass her.
Why? Because for some reason he was convinced she could get Mammon to pay his debts to the brother. How the hell he came to that conclusion she couldn’t fathom. Her tour guide and escort babysitter seemed to want as little to do with her as she did him. He walked her to campus and to each of her classes—if he decided to show up—and then home again, but every moment they spent within the vicinity of each other, he complained loudly about how annoying she was and how too good he was to be having to do the lowly task of watching over her safety. He was complaining to the wrong person: if it was up to her, she’d be on her own.
Aside from them, Asmodeus was the only other one who had seemed intent on interacting with her and that interest had faded after a day or two. Thank sweet baby Jesus. His flirting grated on her nerves, like he was making fun of her as he cooed over her while picking at her clothes with poorly hidden judgement.
Her DDD chimed again. And again, and again and again. She groaned, pulling the comforter over and around her. If the phone hadn’t been a gift from Lord Diavolo himself—it sucked that communication between the two worlds was impossible through human technology—she would have thrown the damn thing against the wall. It was either one of three people: Mammon, demanding to know where she was, Lucifer, who wanted to check on her and her progress with settling in in the most oppressive, cold manner she had ever experienced, or Leviathan. Leviathan, who continued to text her phone despite her obstinate refusal to even open his texts.
Another chime and Rhen reached for the offending device, the main screen nearly blinding her with LED brightness. Instead of the litany of unread messages, the time was what caught her attention and Rhen exhaled a whine. How did it get so late?! How was time so weird here?! Maybe it was the constant darkness of a never ending night that covered the Devildom, or maybe she just wasn’t counting down the monotonous minutes until something less boring happened like she used to.
“Human!” Mammon kicked down her door.
Then again, she was finding that her moments of peace and solitude were all too often disrupted. And that was saying something considering she had only been here a week.
“Yes, Demon?” The words slipped from Rhen, and she cringed at the brashness. On top of everything else, Rhen was having a hard time putting to words why exactly she kept slipping into a casual tone with Mammon. Maybe it was because he was a demon, or maybe because he was a shit, but she didn’t feel guilty being upfront with him, if not even a little mean. The part of her that used keeping up that socially expected niceness and politeness as a means of keeping people at her preferred distance? It was no longer her first go-to with him, the ingrained need to be passive and agreeable just… an anxiety that didn’t exist with him. Rhen didn’t care about making friends, so why was she treating him like he was one? Sure, demons hardly seemed to respond to polite requests and kind words, but that hadn’t stopped her a week ago.
So many things were changing.
It was unnerving and one hundo percento needed to just not be a thing.
Mammon scoffed, “Human, I need you to do my Devildom History assignment!”
“Absolutely not.” Rhen sat up, phone forgotten amongst the blankets, ruffling her wildly loose hair and yawning.
“Come oooooon! Lucifer will kill me if I don’t do well on the next test and I have a photoshoot to go to, so I can’t do it. Since we’re in the same class, you can totally just do my assignment too!” He laughed, so carefree and jovial, as if it was the most obvious thing to do.
“Nope.”
It was surprising to see a demon so easily fall to tears. No, actually, he was probably just trying to guilt her into saying yes and thought she’d cave under his waterworks. Too bad for him, “Instead, I’ll help you study and complete the homework yourself. Academic dishonesty is nothing to joke about. Come on, go get your books and I’ll help.”
Mammon paused and she could feel the scrutiny. Careful Mammon, don’t wanna pop a synapse thinking too hard. That was another, another thing: despite being a multi-millenium year old being, the demon was a bit of an idiot.
Whatever thought passed, he was quick to turn his nose up. Ah yes, the haughty asshole approach. Wasn’t Lucifer supposed to represent all things prideful?
“As if a human could help me. I’m Mammon, the great Avatar of Greed. Humans bow and revere me, and if they’re lucky, I might just help them. You, little Human, have nothing of worth to me.”
Holy shit, apparently human men weren’t the only ones with fragile egos. “Ah, my mistake. I thought you had come to my room, asking for my help. Must’ve gotten confused; my bad.” Maybe if she ignored him he’d just go away?
The ensuing silence meant he was going to give up and go bother one of his brothers, feeding Rhen just a taste of hope.
Yeah, she wasn’t that lucky.
Mammon, having kept to the door, further strode into her room, even going so far as to sprawl himself along the foot of her bed. The tilt of his head, the purposeful rise of his shirt, the simmering half-lidded expression he was giving her…
Ah. He was changing tactics.
Rhen rolled her eyes.
“If you did the assignment for me, I’d owe you a favor~”
Rhen cleared her throat, schooling her features and leveling the most uninterested expression with absolutely zero effort, “Why do you assume a favor from a demon sounds appealing to me? And you can stop: being pretty won’t get you what you want.”
The soft, almost ethereal expression hardened and he’s right back to being Mammon, “Why are ya so difficult, Human? Come on, I need to work! With Goldie still in Lucifer’s evil clutches, I have to get money somehow! Can’t you give me a break?”
Rhen sighed, closing her eyes and scratching her fingers over the crown of her forehead, “I’m sorry you had your credit card privileges revoked, but that’s on you. The only thing I can offer is to help with the homework. I’m not cheating for you, or anyone else. Take it or leave it.”
His displeasure was obvious and he scoffed, crawling off the bed in dramatic fashion and headed out the door, “I shouldn’t be surprised; it’s not like a lowly human could help me anyways.”
The salty-ass bitch!
Rhen brought her middle fingers up as the door shut. For a sliver of a moment she felt for the guy. As far as demons went, not being able to perform your sin sounded like it would be uncomfortable. She could get that. At least that’s how it made sense to her. Now that he was gone though—
Her cell phone chimed and Rhen whipped around to find the offending object, forcing it under her pillows. Insistent, manipulative, annoying as shit assholes! Did no one understand social-emotional boundaries?! Leviathan still wouldn’t leave her alone about finding Goldie—the fact that he named his credit card is… a lot—and tricking Mammon.
                                               OtakuWaterLizard
You can’t keep ignoring me!
                                                                             I’m really sorry, but my answer won’t change.
Make a pact with Mammon.
                                                                                      I’m sorry Leviathan, but I can’t do that.
Make a pact with Mammon.
Make a pact with Mammon.
Make a pact with Mammon.
Don’t you dare ignore me, Normie!!!
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Make a pact with Mammon
Make a pact with Mammon
                                                                      If you want your money back, you should really talk to Mammon
I will not stop until Seraphina is avenged and I have my money back!
To do that, you need to find his credit card and then force him to make a pact with you!
Would this be never ending?
Would she never be allowed a moment of peace ever again?
Wait…
Another chime went off.
Fuckkk, this was the most stupid-ingenious idea. She had said she wouldn’t get involved, but holy fuck getting Leviathan off her ass and Mammon in a better mood would be worth anything at this point. And apparently the only way to do that was to find the damn credit card. Then she could give it to Mammon, tell Leviathan his plan is ruined, and live in relative fucking peace.
But only one person knew the whereabouts of the card, and if she wanted to find it…
That only meant one thing: talking to Lucifer.
“I am in literal and figurative hell.”
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All morning she had been distracted, logic-ing out the best way to get what she needed. It didn’t help that she had no idea as to Lucifer’s schedule, but for once Mammon assisted her, supplying her with exactly what she needed: a time and place to ambush him.
Ambush, politely coerce if not beg: same difference.
She wanted to get there early, that way if Lucifer was ahead of schedule—he seemed like such a Type-A personality, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility—she wouldn’t miss her chance.
Being anxiously aware of the time, however, made everything drag out, keying her up even more so.
The second the professor dismissed class, Rhen was packing her bag, shoving pens and notebooks in haphazardly. The room was still bustling with students trying to leave the class and if she was quick enough she could dodge lingering demons hoping to eat her, find Lucifer before her next class, and evade-
“How are you holding up? Every time I see you, you’re always running off somewhere. The work isn’t too difficult for you? I could help tutor you if you would like.”
Dammit.
Rhen looked up, the pale sorcerer smiling down at her. Solomon—like, the Solomon, biblical king Solomon—was the other human exchange student, who, unlike herself, was an established sorcerer and is also inhumanly old despite his youthful appearance.
How in the hell did she get chosen for this program? It’s not like the other students were competition, but having herself next to Solomon as representatives of the human world… Man, she couldn’t even perform magic yet. It’s no wonder she’s caught eyes with demons as they—literally—circled her in the RAD commons. Rhen glanced behind Solomon, three demons lingering outside the door, glancing in at her and Solomon.
Yeah, these asshats weren’t subtle.
She smiled, beaming with enough cheer that she hoped Solomon was able to read her sarcasm, and at the same time the idea of him picking up on her irritation at being talked to being mortifying, “Oh, that’s sweet of you, Solomon. Thanks, but I’ve just been busy, settling in, ya know?”
“Ah yes, I imagine living in a house with six handsome demons can be very distracting.”
Rhen’s eyes narrowed, but her smile remained perfectly intact, “Honestly, any demon would make it difficult to settle.”
“If it would help, you should come to Purgatory Hall: Simeon and Luke are eager to meet you,” he said and for a moment her thoughts of active disdain for the man in front of her fell away.
“The other exchange students? You mean-”
“The students from the Celestial realm: angels, yes,” he said.
Rhen paused. Huh, she had been so immersed with the demons and the demon-world, she had completely forgotten that there was a flip side to this world that also existed. Hmm… She refused to ask Solomon for help—she’d rather punch Satan, Lord and avatar of Wrath and all things hissy-fitty—but maybe befriending some angels would be enough of an incentive to ward off the soul-hungry bottom feeders.
“That… would be nice. I’d love to meet them,” Rhen said, the first genuine smile ever directed towards the sorcerer. 
Solomon nodded, “The three of us are planning to go out to Café Lament to eat Friday; you should come.”
“You’re going into town?” Right, Solomon can go into the city with no worries since he’s a powerful wizard who commands 72 different demons, “I haven’t had a chance to explore the city. My babysitter only sticks around long enough to walk me to and from RAD…” Rhen huffed, and Solomon let out a laugh and for once it didn’t feel like he was being condescending.
“If you want, and your babysitter is being negligent, I’d be more than happy to walk around and show you the best places to go. Here, hand me your DDD.” Solomon held out his hand and she only hesitated a moment before letting it fall into his slim fingers. How taxing was this outing going to be? Sure, she was getting a bit cabin-feverish to the point where she was contemplating just taking a gamble on the roulette board of ‘Ways to Die or Get in Trouble’ and go for a walk in the woods surrounding the House, but… while she hadn’t found a reason to care about the only other human down here with her, making even the most basic of relationships was beneficial. Also, meeting angels was interesting as fuck and she would not miss that opportunity. Though, perhaps she should keep the ‘goddammit’s to a minimum around them… Would they be offended by that? “There, now we have each other’s number.” A tinge of smugness slipped onto his voice as he slipped Rhen her phone back.
She stood there, letting silence settle between them as she looked over the sorcerer. Pale skin and white hair, a slim build, he was honestly nothing special. She could admit he was physically attractive, but how he held himself—like he was always aware of some joke that no one else was in on—had been keeping Rhen constantly on edge. The fact that Lucifer had also warned her about Solomon only cemented the fact that she didn’t want to get involved with the dude.
Yet… according to myth? Legend? Solomon had control over 72 demons. So did that mean he had pacts with them? If so, maybe he could give her some insight on how they worked, or why Leviathan was so desperate for her to make a pact with Mammon.
Solomon cleared his throat, “Well I should-”
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
Solomon’s eyes widened before settling back into place, “Of course.”
Rhen fiddled, twisting and pulling at her fingers, “Your pacts… Why did you make them?”
He didn’t respond at first, watching the Rhen as she peered at him through her lashes. “Are you thinking of trying to get one of the brothers in a pact? That's admirable, especially considering how inexperienced you are. I’ve tried many times to make a pact with a number of the brothers; only Asmodeus has ever agreed.”
Rhen was too startled, her back straightening with a snap, to be offended by the backhanded comment, “You and Asmodeus? The socialite, Avatar of Lust, who comes onto anything he deems pretty and will only do things for his own pleasure? Huh. Well, that’s surprising.”
Solomon shrugged, giving her a sheepish smile, “Yes, he is rather like that, but there’s more to him than just being a flirt. I would not underestimate him, or any of them for that matter. That would be your first and last mistake.”
Her initial reaction was to scoff. Right, like Asmodeus would risk doing anything that threatened to break even a single nail, but Rhen caught herself. As much as she didn’t care for the guy, Solomon was… well, a powerful sorcerer, and the Lords of the House of Lamentation were much older and much more powerful than Rhen could ever imagine a human becoming. Shit, he was right. Most of her interactions were with Mammon and Leviathan by proxy, both of whose personalities mirrored those she associated with idiotic humans. They had their flaws—intense flaws—but if she pushed them enough, even by accident, they could probably completely erase her from existence. And Rhen was pretty sure Lucifer wouldn’t stand against one of his brothers for her meager safety.
Rhen shook her head, shifting her weight, “No, I’m not interested in making a pact. I’m just curious as to how it works. From how Leviathan talks about it, it’s all about subjugation. Is that it? You trick or overpower demons and collect them like Pokémon?” She asked, her curiosity quite genuine.
Solomon laughed, and Rhen frowned, turning away out towards the window to mask her reaction. There it was again: the oh-you-sweet-naive-girl-why-don’t-you-know-this-supposedly-obvious-thing vibes. Green light washed over her face as she moved towards the window overlooking one of the alley alcoves that sat nestled, innocuous, throughout the campus. A little stone bench surrounded by bushes-that-weren’t-quite-bushes, flame beetles flickered in and out of sight, the insects Devildom fireflies more-or-less.
Solomon mirrored her only moments later, “I guess some would see it like that, yes. As for me, I’ve made a large number of pacts, all for various reasons and all through various means. I would warn you though: if you are considering making pacts, I would wait until you’ve gained some proficiency with your magic. Pacts are an extremely complex magic; most don’t attempt to make one unless they’re certain they can withstand any potential backlash.”
Backlash?
“What do you mean?”
Even though he didn’t, Solomon sure as hell looked like he wanted to give one of those big, exasperated sighs, “No pact made is the same because pacts are contracts—promises—made between two individuals, usually a human and a demon, which is reinforced by magic. What goes into a pact depends on the two making it. There are some who make pacts that have an equal exchange between the two parties, a symbiotic relationship, but there are others who make pacts by tricking or overpowering an individual. Those ones are much more common. If a party breaks a component of their pact, there tends to be significant consequences.”
Rhen nodded, humming. So, that’s why Leviathan wanted her to make the pact: with Mammon’s credit card, Leviathan could pretty much force Mammon into accepting all kinds of terms and conditions, and if he broke the pact, he’d be punished for it. Leviathan wanted to use her as a means of absolute control over Mammon.
Yeah, fuck that.
And thinking of– She’d dawdled too long.
Meeting Solomon’s curious gaze, Rhen smiled, “Thank you, Solomon, for satiating my curiosity.”
“I’m glad I could help.”
She turned, gathering her things, glancing at the time, “I’ll text you later and let you know my schedule for Friday. Later!”
Solomon nodded, waving as Rhen ran out of the classroom.
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“Lucifer!”
Rhen went over her made up script again in her head, needing to not flub this. As idiotic as the brothers seemed (to be fair, she had only really held a decent conversation with 2 of them), Lucifer… well, wasn’t. He was what she had kind of expected a demon to be: intelligent, cold, demanding, and domineering. Red eyes that stared into her soul, ink black hair groomed in a way that suited suave, intellectual types. The fact that he was either always in his school uniform or in a suit with his coat hanging off his shoulders like a frickin’ cape was somehow even more intimidating. It only made sense that she was a bit terrified of the dude. Lord Diavolo wasn’t even that chilling. But trying to lie or be clever prooobably wouldn’t go over too well with Lucifer; the deceit would only put her in a bad light and the chances of him seeing through her bullshit were high.
So half truths it was.
“Good afternoon, Rhen. You’ve become quite the celebrity here, haven’t you? And you’ve made it through the week without being eaten. Good for you.” Red eyes glanced around behind her, “Where is Mammon? He is supposed to be with you outside of class at all times,” Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, pinning Rhen to the spot, “Unless you are not in between classes? You know, it would look poorly on you, and therefore me, if you were skipping.” Those piercing, always staring eyes always kept Rhen on edge, and the fact that he had a cool smile leveled at her only made the fact that he was so nonchalant over her well being even more terrifying.
“What? No! Of course I’m not skipping! I–” Rhen cleared her throat. Right, let’s try not to yell at the scariest motherfucker. “I mean, no, I am not skipping. I wanted to find you, and Mammon was complaining about not having time to grab something to eat. So, since I’d be with you for a few minutes I told him he should go and get something while he could.” Please believe the lie. Please believe the lie!
“It is Mammon’s job to ensure your safety. He cannot do so if he is not with you.” Lucifer sighed, “I will have to remind him of his duties.” Collecting himself, he refocused on Rhen, “You said you were looking for me?”
“Yes, I was actually looking to find you because I had a question I was hoping you could help me with,” she smiled, polite and as perfect as her nervousness allowed her.
Lucifer tilted his head, “If it is within my power, I will answer as best I am able.”
Rhen took in a deep breath, “So, theoretically, if a student were to have an item confiscated from them, what would happen to it? I imagine how human universities and demon universities handle that sort of thing differ from one another. How involved does the student council get with the personal lives of its students? It’s a thought I had that could help with my end-of-year paper.” Lucifer can’t not answer considering it’s a question that affects how she performs as a student!
The shift of his expression was minimal, a slight narrowing of his eyes. Rhen held her breath.
“I suppose it doesn’t hurt to tell you. Compared to other schools, RAD traditionally allows its students quite a bit of freedom. However, if the student council decides that a student possesses something that is causing problems, we confiscate it. Sometimes we return the item after an amount of time, sometimes we don’t. Any particular reason you asked?”
Rhen nodded, her smile faltering as she tugged and fiddled with her fingers. It was only a moment before she was able to hide the nervous tell, “Well, you see… Mammon is my delegated chaperone; however, he is still a demon, and hence has certain advantages over me… As Student Council President and his older brother, is there any… advantage I could use? Something for leverage?”
“Are you implying that I know his weaknesses and can exploit them when I like?” The subtle smug expression did nothing to encourage Rhen to try and refute his statement, “I suppose that is true in a way, but that’s not the only reason Mammon cannot say no to me. Mammon has many weaknesses, however, it is not my place to just freely give them out to whoever may ask. I may have, however, taken one particular weakness of his and frozen it, but the others you will have to discover for yourself, understand?”
“Ah, yes, of course. Thank you.”
Lucifer nodded, “Yes, well, I must be off. Take care not to be late for your next class, Rhen.”
“Of course.”
Rhen watched Lucifer walk down the hall and around the corner, a loud exhale filled with panic and relief leaving her practically deflated against the wall.
Holy shit. He knew. He had to know! There’s no way he couldn’t. Yet he mentioned freezing the account. Which seemed stupid. Of course he’d freeze the account if he didn’t want Mammon spending money. That was probably the most obvious thing she’d ever heard Lucifer say to date.
Rhen chewed on her lip.
She couldn’t say she knew Lucifer; they’d barely spoken aside from status updates, but he practically oozed control-freak vibes.
Lucifer was the type to always have a reason for what he did. So why did he say something so… dumb?
Wait…
Why would he freeze the account and then take the credit card? If the account’s frozen, he wouldn’t physically need the card to prevent Mammon from using it… What did Lucifer say? He took one of Mammon’s weaknesses and froze it? No, ‘and frozen it’ was what he said. How do you freeze a credit card aside from through the credit lenders? It’s not like he shoved it in the freezer or something.
Incredulous disbelief washed Rhen from the inside out.
No… He couldn’t be serious. He wouldn’t possibly do something that obvious.
Not that having a credit card sit in a freezer was an obvious, normal thing to have, but it seemed much too… silly of a thing for Lucifer to do. Could there possibly be a not-so-serious side to the first born?
That thought was much too unnerving to focus on. No, no it kind of made sense. It’s something so not-Lucifer that no one would ever think of it. That totally had to be it! Rhen glanced at her DDD for the time. If she was quick, she could make it back to the dorm, grab the card, make it to class, and then give the damn thing to Mammon when he came to pick her up. Little shit better be grateful.
He wouldn’t be, but Rhen was kinda okay with that.
Hopefully no one was in the kitchen and whoever had cooking duty wasn’t keeping on top of things.
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lamortexiii · 2 years
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The HellBilly Pulpit: Fly Children, Fly
It’s a mess. 
This country. This world.
Our grandparents and parents have not done much to progress this world. 
We are still living with racism, classism, poverty, hunger, and homelessness. This is 2022. We should have evolved much farther beyond this by now. But here we are. Those in power, stay in power with antiquated ideas and sensibilities.
Enough is enough.
I’m going to tell you a bit of advice. I’m coming from the position of an outsider myself. A black sheep. An anomaly to my surroundings. So please. Don’t dismiss my thoughts as some middle-aged man who doesn’t get it.  I do, I did, and hope to keep up with it.
Children, younglings, teens, and young adults. Get up!  Get out there and make a difference.  Go vote. Go fight for a cause. Don’t take anyone looking down their nose at you. Don’t let them make you complacent.  You all are some of the most diverse and free-thinking people in decades and the world will soon be yours to make what it should be.
The boomer's days are numbered. Their numbers are thinning.
Take the opening and learn how things SHOULD work and get them back that way.
Be kind. Be open-minded.
Reach out to those who have less and try to help wherever you can. Set an example for your younger siblings and children of your own that you can be proud of.
Make chaos. Make anarchy. Make noise. Beat on their doors and tell them that you’ve had enough. It’s time for the new blood to take charge.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry for any part of this situation that the elders have left you all in. I’m sorry for any part that I may have been inadvertently involved in. I saw my errors and decided that I wasn’t taking part anymore.
Empathy. Compassion. That is what is going to make the world a better place.
Believe in your science. Believe in your art. This can be a dawning of a new age and I want to see what fires you all can start.
Deconstruct religion! Tear down the church's walls. Be like those pagans before us and realize what your truth is that you carry in your heart.
Cast your spells. Speak to the other side. Look at the mother moon and ask her what guidance she can offer.
Your cards and your divine gifts will help you keep your moral path. Don’t give in. Don’t just give up, refuse to grow up! Don’t let the brimstone and fire stories they used to scare you with, keep you from walking your path.
In my spiritual path, I don’t necessarily follow one set of ideals. I use many from many sources to help me feel aligned and in touch with my soul and its connection to the universe. I’ve meditated on this issue, I’ve thought long and hard and tried to put my best energy out into the world to try to help make it a reality.
Part of what drives me is my connections to my ancestors. I’ve asked for guidance or any clues as to what the solution could possibly be. The thing I come back to again and again is that our solutions lay not with my generation, but with those following on our heels. I truly feel that this could work. So I write to you all. I try to reach out to give hope where there is none. Strength to bolster someone’s weaknesses. I write to express my message that all is not truly lost. That we need to come together in our dismissal of “normalcy” and show the world what they didn’t know they were missing.
You may not think so now. But I’m telling you all… this reality is temporary and it’s all clay in your hands.
Remember, you can cause more from chaos within.
I hope you all use your intelligence and spiritual knowledge to make this world a better place.  Make it what it should have been so long ago. These old fucks aren’t going to do it.  It’s time for you to take the reigns and get this world back on the right track.
I believe in you. My brothers and sisters believe in you. Ask us for any help you need. We will boost you up. We will give you all the advice we can along with all the support we can.
Fly Children, Fly.
Don’t look back.
Ava Satanis
HBVV
The HellBilly Pulpit Blog by @hellbillyvvitch @thehellbillypulpit
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