#Department of Hypnosis and Mind Control
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My buffer posts are moving again!
We will get back to superheroes in about 6 posts after this one :3333
But for now, have some old slumber lily lore.
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The Hum
Tentacles x f!reader
Word Count: 3138
Contains: tentacle sex, ovipositor/egg laying, hypnosis/mind control, outdoor sex, religious language/imagery
While you are deep in the woods, you come across a strange phallic rock formation. Deciding to camp there, you are inducted into a new religion by the tentacle god itself and given the mission to spread its holy message.
Quarantine in Effect
Effective immediately, the Department of Monster Affairs has quarantined a ten-mile radius around the town of Holtston due to a tentacle demon infestation. All travel planned through the area should be rerouted until further notice. Anyone attempting to breach the quarantine zone will be charged to the fullest extent of the law.
Living beings in the area are being examined for eggs, seeds, and other signs of propagation with the tentacle demon. Those infected with corruption will remain under examination. Those clean of corruption will be released outside of the quarantine zone.
If you know anyone who has traveled to the Holtston area within the past month and is acting strangely, please contact the Department of Monster Affairs immediately, as they may be infected with tentacle demon spawn or otherwise corrupted.
The quarantine will be in effect until 30 days after all signs of the tentacle demon are eradicated.
Please visit the Department of Monster Affairs website or call our hotline for more information on quarantine zones, corruption, and tentacle beasts.
Two months prior…
Your muscles ached pleasantly as you hiked along the path following your GPS.
“Alright, there are the two bears,” you said to yourself as you came across an old sign of Smokey the Bear warning about fire safety and a more modern wood carving of a black bear with a request to report any sightings of them in the area. Park rangers were trying to track their numbers as the demons had found them fun sport during the Great Incursion, severely reducing their numbers in the region. And that was why you were here.
A hiker out geocaching had claimed to see a black bear near the cache he was after. Of course, it was one of those unmarked caches that was more of a treasure hunt with clues than a “fun day in the woods with your GPS,” so you didn’t have exact coordinates. The hiker had told the preserve the approximate location but the black bear had been seen at some distance past the geocache using binoculars. So, it was up to you to go out and search the area.
You only hoped it was a bear and not anything else.
Ever since the Great Incursion, humans learned that many of the monsters their myths had been based upon were real. Many old myths and legends were inaccurate and distorted by time, but there were some that still rang true - who knew what was living in these tall mountains now? Maybe Bigfoot really was real. And you knew the old Native myths about creatures far more dangerous than a tall, hairy fellow.
Traveling for another mile, enjoying the spring air and blossoming forest around you. Eventually, you went off the trail as per the instructions. You used biodegradable flags to mark your path and easily find your way back. A couple of miles into the woods with a few more twists and turns, and you arrived at the spot of the geocache. Looking around, you spotted the water-tight steel box sitting within a crevice of exposed rock face. Perfect.
You took out your binoculars, checked your notes, and compared them to the landscape. “Okay, he was facing west and noticed the movement on the right-hand side. The black shape was walking between the trees toward the boulders that looked like a dick and balls…oh, yeah, nope, that’s an accurate description.”
Sitting on the side of the mountain were two large, fairly round boulders and a tall pillar of stone with a surprisingly round top. Usually, this sort of landform would be found in ancient river beds where the running water carved stone, but these rocks must have gotten lucky in a landslide. The spot wasn’t that far away, maybe an hour to an hour and a half, depending on how easy a path down you found. The issue was finding signs of the bear after that. It was already after two, so even if you found evidence immediately, it was safer to spend the night than risk the sun setting before you returned to your Jeep.
Luckily, you had planned for that. Your pack contained a hammock, sleeping bag, and enough food for a couple of days—just in case the search took longer than a single day.
Knowing you were losing daylight, you set off down the mountainside to reach rock-cock…or was rock-and-balls a better name? As you hiked, you mused about what to call the rock feature that could become a hidden secret of the park.
An hour and ten minutes later, you arrived at the relatively flat area where the unusual rock feature sat. Those rocks were an excellent marker to center your search around. You approached the cock-rocks and realized that they were far less natural than you believed. The rocks had seemed rather smooth from up on the ridge, but you had thought that was the distance. Now that you were closer, you realized they seemed purposively carved.
Approaching a bit closer, you saw tool marks on the rock, or what were probably tool marks you weren’t an expert. The stone wasn’t polished, but…something was strange about it. As you stood before it, the hairs on the back of your neck rose. It felt like you were being watched.
You took out the magical device in your bag to check for a Rift to the other world nearby. The color of the enchanted compass was a milky blue, the color of this dimension. No Rifts nearby. This was probably a prank or some weird art someone made then. Neat and still useful as a hidden landmark for the park.
“The Mysterious Cock Rock, that has a ring to it.” With a chuckle, you began your search for any sign of a black bear.
Your search circled Cock Rock using the unusual feature as a starting and ending point. You looked for natural animal paths through the foliage and broken branches at hip height; there were several but only a few deer and coyote tracks. A small stream at the base of the mountain yielded nothing besides more tracks. You did not realize that all the tracks were pointing away from the phallic stone you started from.
You came across a patch of blackberries. The bottom ones had all been eaten, but the ones at the top, which black bears could reach by pulling the branches, were still there. That did it for you. There was no black bear around here. A black bear coming out of hibernation wouldn’t miss the chance to munch on one of their primary food sources.
“Gods damn it,” you swore. But this was a prime area for a black bear to find food and shelter. You would set up some trail cams in the area, and even if there wasn’t a black bear around, it would be good to know what animals were in the area. You’d also put one near Cock Rock. If it was a prankster or artist, there was a chance they weren’t done with the project yet. With a trail cam, you could catch them in the act.
By the time you finished your search and set up the trail cams, it was dinner time. You decided to set up your hammock in the clearing with Cock Rock. If nothing else came of this excursion, you would be able to tell your friends you slept with the biggest cock you’d ever seen.
The camp was pretty simple to set up. You made a small fire for warmth and to heat up some water for tea. Munching on a few blackberries you had picked and your rations, you smiled; even if there was no black bear, it was a good trip. You loved the National Parks. The sun disappeared behind you, leaving you to stare into the vast starry sky. The moon was full tonight, providing plenty of light for you to see.
The wind picked up. Through the mountains, a low hum began to resonate. It wasn’t common, but sometimes, they made music when the wind hit the cliffs just right. The hum continued a sonorous tone that wavered in frequency just enough to have a rhythm. It reminded you of that special hertz music you used for meditation.
It was just so relaxing…
You felt the tension in your shoulders release. You could feel yourself sinking into that mindless, meditative state.
Yet, a thought crossed your mind. Maybe this rock formation wasn’t recent. It was art, yes—ancient art.
You rocked back and forth on your feet before the pillar of stone. You didn’t remember moving at all.
The breeze caressed your skin. Your breath was shallow. Breathing in and out with the shift of the hum. Your hands moved without your intent yet without your resistance. You unbuckled your belt and slowly unbuttoned your khaki uniform top. Undressing. Baring yourself to the phallic monument.
You knew something was wrong, but you could not stop.
The hum grew louder. Drowning all worries. You sank to your knees, sitting on your heels, your legs in a V, torso still rocking back and forth with the droning hum.
The hum grew louder again. It resonated in your body. Your nipples tingled, half hardening. Your body was flushed with heat. The fluid of arousal from your swollen nethers dripped onto the ground.
The hum was tangible in the air. You could taste it as you moaned in the same pitch. It was moving forward towards your body, displayed in offering to the stone. The hum was not caused by the wind. From in between the two round boulders, from a hidden cave that you had not seen, the darkness moved.
The darkness slithered forward in slick tendrils. The hum ceased as it reached out towards you, yet the tone still rang in your mind. It had filled your brain like static, white noise that erased everything else. There was merely you, a supplicant, a waiting vessel. And the beautiful darkness of possibility before you.
Out of the crevice, the divine creature arose. It was beautiful.
Your hand rose as you longed to touch the magnificence before you, reaching for a perfection that you could never achieve. Yet, you were not worthy to make that choice. It had to accept you. One of the thick tendrils rose and slid into your hand. Like Adam being touched by Yahweh in the Sistine Chapel, you were filled with life, created anew to serve your god's will.
“Master,” you moaned with awe.
The tendril spiraled down your arm, pulling it off to the side. Another wrapped around your other arm and pulled it out as well. Your chest was forced out, presenting your breasts and hardened nipples to your god. Even in its hold, your body still swayed to the hum in your head.
Its many unblinking eyes stared down at you like a multitude of pearlescent moons cast within the sparkling ink of night that was its body. It was examining you. Determining if you were truly worthy to serve.
“Please, use me as you will.” To be rejected by it now would break you.
Like a stray radio signal through the static, a thought, no, an impression of intent crossed your mind. Accepted.
That alone caused your body to shudder with pleasure. More of your dripping arousal fell upon the ground, soaking into the earth.
A third tendril stretched out, thicker than the others but with a rounder head shining wet in the moonlight. It dipped between your open legs, pressing against your slickened folds. You gasped with pleasure, but the rhythm of your swaying body continued. It rubbed against you in time with your swaying before easily slipping into your aching hole.
“Master,” you sighed with pleasure. The tentacle held still, but your body rocked upon it. Slow and steady. Constant pleasure.
Your god’s blessed slime soaked into your inner walls, molding them to its will. Inside, you were stretching. Opening up. Changing to what you need to be to serve it.
The tentacle sunk into you deeper and deeper. Your hips rolled in rhythm. Its blunt head pressed against that perfect spot inside of you. Again and again, as you fucked yourself upon your master. Then, your walls twitched around it as pleasure overcame you.
The rhythm broke. While that hum still filled your mind, it was enough to start raising your awareness. Wait. This creature. This was wrong. This was…
Another blip in the hum, so much louder than your thoughts, drowning them out. Submission. Pleasure.
Pleasure. You wanted pleasure. This was pleasure. This divine creature, this god, would bring you untold pleasure. All you had to do was submit. Fall back into the warm cloud of static and let it rewrite you. The little bit of your instinctual mortal fight for independence that had clawed its way to the surface let go, sinking back into the all-encompassing hum.
“Forgive me, Master,” you pleaded with a sigh. A tendril dripping with slime rose; it hovered before your face. Leaning forward, you placed a reverent kiss on the end of its head. Absolution was granted as the tendril anointed your face with a spurt of holy slime.
With your full submission, your Master used your body as it willed. Other tentacles moved forward now. Some were like the tendrils holding your arms, and they wrapped around your legs, lifting you into the air. Some tentacles had broad textured pads at the ends, others suction cups, and others split open, revealing tongue-like appendages or even smaller and more dexterous tentacles. The tentacles descended upon you.
A mouth-like tentacle pressed against your lips in a profane kiss. It split open at the end, revealing a long tongue that swirled around your mouth, slowly inching down your throat. You moaned around the tongue as two of the padded tentacles engulfed your breasts, the cilia-like tentacles stimulating every inch of skin they covered, making them tingle.
Another thick tentacle pressed against your ass, filling you up but staying still. You could feel it gushing slime, coating your insides, your walls eagerly soaking up the blessing. A small suction cup placed itself over your clit, starting a rhythmic sucking in time with the hum. The tentacle in your pussy held still, letting your inner walls clench around it - gradually falling into rhythm with the hum.
The tongue in your throat was starting to cut off your air. Your vision started to fade to black as your body jerked, trying to breathe. Thick slime formed on the tongue, pouring down your throat and filling your lungs. If it were not for the hum, you would have panicked while you drowned. Yet, like a child in the womb, you were sustained, breathing in your god.
From deep within your pussy you felt a pressure. The tentacle that had been sitting inside of you finally moved. It pressed upwards, shrinking and squeezing to pass through your cervix opened up to it by the corruptive slime.
Your eyes rolled back in your head from the pleasure of your god entering you so completely. An orgasm washed over your body. Through the ecstasy, there was another blip of contact. This time, it was more than an emotion. A vision was granted to you.
An ancient past where the people of this region had properly worshiped your god for the fertility and unity that all experienced under its thrall. Then, the Division. Magic ripped away from this world. Your god torn from its people. It waited in hibernation under its phallic altar until the Great Incursion. It could sense the people miles away but was too weak to call out until you. You had come to it. You had laid next to its altar in offering. You resonated with its call and accepted it into your mind and body.
The vision transformed into a prophecy.
You would take it to others, spread its teachings of unity and pleasure, and bring others into the chorus of the hum—you as a saint, you as a brood mother. It would put itself into you so you could bring it into town. Then you would give birth to it anew just as you had been reborn in it. Piece by piece, your god would be bestowed upon those worthy of the pleasure.
You could not speak around its tentacle. Yet, if there was any final resistance to your god’s will, you released it. Yes. You would accept this task. You would bring unity and pleasure to your fellows. Build a new cult to your god just as it deserves.
Its eyes pearlescent eyes shifted. Not eyes, you realized, but eggs. They traveled down the tentacles that rested inside of your body. You felt the first egg stretch your pussy lips. It pushed inside of you and pressed against your cervix. Your body waited on the edge as the pressure increased, waiting…waiting…then it slipped into your womb.
The sensation of your god placing itself inside of you sent you into another orgasm. The eggs were coming rapidly now. Eggs of all shapes and sizes. Small eggs, covered in protective gel, like frogspawn, poured down your throat, filling your stomach. The tentacle in your ass lined your insides with eggs, sticking to your innards like octopus eggs to a rock. And most precious of all, the large eggs gently laid in your womb that held the majority of its divine essence.
It was unending. Your mortal body eventually was overwhelmed. Eggs still being pumped into you, you passed out.
You awoke to the chirping birds of dawn. Your nose was cold. Slowly opening your eyes, you saw the canopy of trees above you. You had slept so well. Sleeping in your hammock was better than the ground, but it was never as comfortable as bed. Usually, you had a couple of knots you’d have to stretch out. Yet, as you sat up and gingerly put your feet on the ground, you felt no soreness. Though you did feel oddly bloated, and your uniform felt tight around your breasts and stomach.
Looking around the campsite, you furrowed your brow. You didn’t remember going to bed. Yet, everything was packed away, and the fire was properly doused. Strange. Maybe you had been so tired that you did everything on autopilot before crawling into the hammock. Well, no matter, it was time to report back to the station that there was no evidence of black bears.
As you packed up camp, you hummed. Not happy little do-dos but a long, sonorous frequency that moved up and down in a relaxing rhythm. Something about the tone wasn’t quite right. Humming it alone felt wrong. Your friend should be at the ranger station today. Maybe you could share the hum with her.
Comments and reblogs are appreciated. Trying to think of a name for the tentacle religion and the god itself - thinking Ch'thon/Chthon kinda basic but it works...
There will be more to this, but I thought this was a good ending point for part 1 of an ongoing series.
Find more stories in my Masterlist
#department of monster affairs#monster x reader#monster boyfriend#monster fucker#monster lover#monster x human#teratophillia#tentacles#tentacle monster#tentacle fucker#tentacles x reader#eldritch x reader#hypnosis#hypnok1nk
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Vox's Manipulation of Hell
I've been watching a ton of videos on the most evil comic book villains, specifically Batman villains. One thing that I love about the best and scariest Batman villains is that, more than anything, they are intelligent. It's not about powers, wealth, or even status. It's about their sick, wicked, and brilliant minds. This is my favorite type of villain and it's why I like Vox.
Spoilers for "Amnesia the Dark Descent."
One of the scenes that I don't see discussed very often, except maybe when bringing up Angelic Security, is the scene with Vox and the press. This is the scene that shows that Vox is a master manipulator. In a world where everyone there knows it is populated by the worst of the worst, he's somehow gotten people to trust him. Yes, you can say that it's because of his hypnosis, but even if that is true, it's still not so simple. He might be able to implant the ideas and beliefs that he wants people to have, but he has to maintain behavior and act in a way that reinforces those ideas and beliefs (at least publically). It's why he is so obsessed with his image, why he goes out of his way to stop Valentino from jeopardizing that image.
Brainwashing is not as simple as hypnotizing someone and telling them to believe something. In "Amnesia the Dark Descent," the antagonist needs to torture people for his end goal. So the victims don't become numb to the torture, he wipes their minds so they don't remember it. However, this doesn't work because the injuries still remain. The physical reality in front of them does not match their memories and so they do still become numb. Vox needs to maintain an image that matches what he wants the public to believe, to make it, well, believable. Even though they are in literal Hell, Vox is able to convince people, through hypnosis combined with clever manipulation, that he is trustworthy.
We never see Vox use physical violence to get his way. The closest we get is him grabbing Valentino, but even then he immediately switches back into manipulator mode once he's got his attention. He makes Valentino believe that not attacking the hotel is his idea. We even see him manipulate Velvette by playing on her status as the youngest Overlord and the possible insecurities that might cause. She has to call him for help when Valentino is throwing his tantrum. Her department is in chaos and she is very clearly rattled. When Vox specifically makes the comment that she "has everything under control," Velvette immediately goes on the defensive, insisting that of course she does.
Honestly seeing that Vox is willing to manipulate even his own allies makes me wonder if he didn't try to play Alastor as well. Except that one ended very poorly and was potentially a key factor in their falling out. Because for all the manipulation he does in his own right, Alastor does not like the taste of his own medicine and would definitely not react well to being on the receiving end of the game.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin vox#hazbin alastor#hazbin velvette#hazbin valentino#hazbin hotel vox#vox hazbin hotel#alice rambles
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can bald moth get beat up 👉👈
Of course he can get beat up! And more!
Ain't it fun?
Vee's & reader [?] Vaguely implied Velvette x reader
Warnings: mild gore, Valentino is his own warning, the reader turns the tables on Valentino, there are mild plot holes but uh, we don't talk about those!! Takes place before the show.
Song used
You were beyond pissed, your darling dumbass of a sibling made the decision to sell their soul to an overlord, and had the audacity to ask you to help them out of it.'
The overlord in question?
Valentino, one of the three Vees.
Your sibling came over to you begging, screaming, crying for you to help them because they didn't know what to do!
They better thank God above that you were related because otherwise you would've let them rot.
It started with you researching the Vee's, taking in every single smidgen of information you could get on them, from interviews, to stalking Velvette's social medias because she posts everything and anything on there.
Then you began shopping for more.. charming clothing, whether that be a dashing suit, dazzling dress, or something in-between it made you look the part.
Now how exactly would you climb your way up?
You supposed you had to start dealing in souls, climbing the ranks until you became an overlord, after all how hard could it be?
I don't mind
Lettin' you down easy, but just give it time
If it don't hurt now, well, just wait, just wait a while
You should've gotten into the soul dealing business ages ago, considering how now regular sinners now scrambled to get away from you leaving you alone as you did your business.
You didn't really know what to do at first but after doing from research at the local hellish library you got a pretty good idea on how to become a overlord, and a surprising amount of sinners were willing to sell their souls to you in exchange for something, it was odd, you would think they'd want to keep their souls, but hey you weren't complaining!
You're not the big fish in the pond no more
You are what they're feedin' on
It wasn't long before you found yourself hanging around the social circles that Velvette in particular frequented, fashion industry folks, influencers, top dogs in those departments, and you slowly but surely landed on her good side.
Just enough that she started bringing you around the other Vee's.
So what are you gonna do
When the world don't orbit around you?
You held out your hand to shake Valentino's hand when Velvette brought you around to spend the night, apparently Vox was elsewhere at the time, according to Velvette he was "Whining over the absence of an ancient deer" whatever that meant.
You just held a smile at the moth as he talked about something you could care less about.
Oh he had no idea what was in store for him.
So what are you gonna do
When the world don't orbit around you?
Ain't it fun
You had to admit you underestimated the piece of shit, your sibling did say that he was 'charming' at first, picking them up at a club and convincing them to work for him, the weird ass smoke he omitted didn't help either.
Livin' in the real world?
Ain't it good
One thing you clocked about the Vee's was that they were all about control in some way or form, Velvette liked the control she had over social media, Vox over everyone with his weird little hypnosis that you had to invest a pretty penny into a weird pair of contact lenses to prevent him from using it on you, and Valentino with the employees under him, like your sibling.
You couldn't really blame them, now that you were an overlord yourself you could admit having control over people was exhilarating, better than any drug.
Bein' all alone?
Where you're from
You've gotten exceedingly good at holding your breath when he emits that weird smoke around and wearing clothing that prevented his saliva from touching you, it wasn't hard to figure out what that pink drool could do to someone especially since Velvette marketed it as a 'love potion'
You might be the one who's runnin' things
Well, you could ring anybody's bell and get what you want
You were unofficially the fourth vee at this point, seen hanging around them, mainly Velvette, you had your own territories, your own line of power, if things went south you could hold your own for a little while, but you'd prefer not burning the bridges you had built with two of the vees.
You would prefer having a proper title of a vee, but fours a crowd, three is a more... Manageable number.
You see, it's easy to ignore trouble
When you're livin' in a bubble
So you bide your time, waiting for all sinner's least favorite time of year, extermination day.
So what are you gonna do
When the world don't orbit around you?
Usually the Vee's would hide away in their tower, secure from the chaos outside, watching as other sinners had their afterlives ripped away from them, spears, swords and other weaponry purged into them.
Mm-mmm, uh-uh
But this year, you had managed to convince Valentino to go out with you the night before extermination, supposedly wanting to get wasted and discuss an idea you had involving something in your area of business and his.
So what are you gonna do
When nobody wants to fool with you?
Luring him to a loud club that barely had any security cameras.
Oh-oh-oh, uh-uh-uh
Ain't it fun
You simply used his own devices against him, he didn't even notice that you weren't even halfway done with your first drink.
Livin' in the real world?
Ain't it good
Bein' all alone?
You made up an excuse to use the restroom, within a few minutes he drunkenly followed in pursuit, only to be met with you and a crowbar.
Oh-oh-oh Ain't it good to be on your own?
You swung at his knees knocking him off balance causing him to collapse on the dirty public bathroom floors.
Oh-oh-oh Ain't it fun you can't count on no one?
His eyesight was already horrible thanks to his missing antenna, that plus the dizziness from the many drinks he had consumed?
He struggled to make out your form, you were blurry.
"What the fuck??" He spluttered out as you rolled up your sleeves not bothering to respond, not bothering to give reason for why you were about to do what you were about to do.
Uh-uh-uh Ain't it good to be on your own?
You lifted your arms up before swinging the crowbar down on him, causing him to scream.
Uh-uh-uh Ain't it fun you can't count on no one?
Drowned out by the loud club music his screams went unheard by the other patrons.
Ain't it fun
Livin' in the real world?
Don't go cryin' to your mama
You swung the crowbar at him, leaving behind cuts and bruises, Valentino tried to defend himself only to get smacked down by you.
'Cause you're on your own in the real world
By the time you were done he was bloodied on the ground, you reached down and dragged him to an empty bathroom stall, leaving a small trail of blood behind you.
Don't go cryin' to your mama
'Cause you're on your own in the real world
You rolled down your sleeves as you left the club acting as if you were told to go away instead of having just beaten up an overlord.
You made your way back to the Vee's tower, complaining to Velvette the moment you walked in about how horrible your night was, how "Valentino had blown you off for some sinner," and "You had forgotten your phone back at the tower,"
Don't go cryin' to your mama
You fell asleep that night peacefully, knowing that by the time morning arose and extermination day started his chances of survival were low.
'Cause you're on your own in the real world
Don't go cryin' to your mama
You held back a grin, acting sympathetic as Vox bitched about Valentino not coming back that night, looking through different security cameras finding nothing but you leaving the club disgruntled and in the early morning Valentino stumbling his way out.
'Cause you're on your own in the real world
Ain't it fun? Ain't it fun?
Baby, now you're one of us
The Vee's are a powerhouse trio, and they'll always be a trio, three's a perfect number and four's a crowd.
Ain't it fun? Ain't it fun?
Ain't it fun?
Ain't it fun
Vox, Velvette and now you, just with the letter V Infront of your name I guess.
Livin' in the real world?
Ain't it good Ain't it goo-oo-ood
Bein' all alone?
It was just soooooo unfortunate that Valentino didn't make it back during extermination that day!
Ain't it fun
Livin' in the real world?
It was just so, so unfortunate that he was pierced by angelic weaponry on his way back to the Vee's tower!
It was his fault for not coming back that night like he was supposed to! But no! He supposedly got distracted with some floosy!
'Cause the world don't orbit around you
Ain't it good Ain't it goo-oo-ood
Bein' all alone
But it was so lucky that you were able to take over his part of the entertainment district, how lucky it was that you were up for the challenge for taking over the studio and managing the things down there, even if you didn't have the souls of his employees under your belt, yet.
Uh-uh, uh-uh-uh-uh
Don't go cryin' to your mama Not to your mama
'Cause you're on your own in the real world Don't go cryin'
Honestly the industry grossed you out but it was whatever, on the other hand, your darling dumbass of a sibling was free.
They took their newfound freedom and fled, leaving a thank you note and a basket of goodies.
You sighed knowing that the next time you saw them it'd be to get them out of trouble again.
Don't go cryin' to your mama To your mama
'Cause you're on your own in the real world Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Don't go cryin' to your mama Yeah, yeah
For now you'd sit back and clean out the studio, kicking out and keeping sinners or hellborn, enjoying the life of a Vee.
'Cause you're on your own in the real world This is the real world
Don't go cryin' to your mama Don't go cryin'
Sure right now the other two were upset at the loss of their "friend" or in Vox's case more than just a friend, but nothing time couldn't fix, they'd get over it.
'Cause you're on your own in the real world (This is the real world)
Once their tears have dried, once they stop thinking he'd be around the corner bedazzling his guns or being a creep they'll realize that you run things better, that you're more of an asset then he ever was.
Don't go cryin' to your mama This is the real world, don't go cryin'
'Cause you're on your own in the real world Oh, oh
You were better than him, more efficient, more cleaver, more charming, less of a creep.
Don't go cryin' to your mama Don't you cry to your mama
'Cause you're on your own in the real world
Eventually Valentino would be forgotten like all the dead overlords that came before him, discarded like the gross trash he was.
Don't go cryin' Don't you go, don't you go cryin'
Don't go cryin' You're on your own
Don't go cryin' Don't go cryin' to your mama
And you'd still be around, in his in your studio, with your staff, in your spot beside the other two vees.
Don't go cryin' Don't you cry, don't you cry

GOOD EVENING FOLKS! IT'S DECEMBER FIRST AND WITH THIS IS THE START OF OUR 25 DAYS COUNTDOWN TO CHRISTMAS! THANK YOU FOR TUNIN' ON IN! I HOPE YOU ALL HAVE A WONDERFUL NIGHT!!
Psst! Join our discord!
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teehee, im the charlentino (thats their ship name i think?? it sounds cool!!) anon, and im here with more charlie/vees stuff cuz the brainrot is strong 😭 (and yeah, i initally wanted you to rate the ship but i got out of control a little lol)
i actually thought a lot about val's smoke and all the stuff he uses, a bit of relaxation for charlie to forget all her troubles with redemption and such, so she can enjoy her time with him. she'd willingly come back for more, just one last time... and like all drugs its probably addictive sooo not his fault she got herself hooked and comes back more often than he calls her ^_^
as for vox, i think he'd enjoy sharing her with val, and he was probably the one who got vox onto that. it would stroke his ego, alastor doing all that in her hotel and she still comes to the vees instead. and ofc no one could pass an opportunity to have a piece of that charlussy. to me vox is all about control and being the best of the best - even though the sinners don't care much about charlie's status, it will have to mean something in the future. the sooner they can get to her the better. plus i can't just not include vox's weird alastor obsession, so he'd totally be like "admit im better than him" with his hypnosis (it's not necessary, she'd be outta her mind before he even used them). it would be a power trip for him, having a princess on her knees for him?? but ohhh im stuck the hypnosis... him and val do make the perfect pair with their powers.
(im also thinking of desperate "mr. vox pleaseeee help me advertise the hotel, i'll do anythingggg" charlie. but thats separate from this scenario)
so, to sum it up: they definitely share, though vox likes some alone time with her every now and then
velvette on the other hand? i don't think she'd be willing to. she'd like charlie for herself. and with her fashion thing i think she'd dress up charlie like her personal doll, her brand's fancy lingerie, full face of makeup just to ruin it by sitting on her face. by the time velvette gets her turn charlie would be already deep enough to just accept and enjoy it. vel wouldn't admit publicly to interacting with her though, after charlie's interview on the news. wouldn't wanna ruin her own image by associating with such a loser, so just some alone time. she's short but deadly and i can't imagine charlie topping with any of them, so vel is on top too. i'm a little lacking in the velvette/charlie headcanon department, which is criminal!!! i need to fill my head with more toxic yuri...
technically it was a deal with valentino, but if there's anyone he would share his favorite toys - it's his best business partners. (or lovers, i also like the polyvees ship as a polyam person myself >_<) and charlie comes back to the hotel tired, filled with guilt, telling herself that it was all for Angel's wellbeing, she totally doesn't enjoy this, and actually- shit, she totally can't wait for the next time val calls her.
charlie and vaggie would definetly have a huge fight about it, and the "you didn't tell me you're an angel" argument would hold no power, since charlie didn't tell her about the deal with val too. and she'd be neglecting their relationship in favor of moth dick appointments, val is insatiable. love me some good relationship troubles (and he probably loves this too cuz he's an asshole lol) <3
here i am, such a huge charlastor shipper, devoting my time to charlie/vees... sorry deer boy, there's enough princess of hell for everyone !!
(btw, do you do anon sign-offs? i'm definetly gonna ramble some more, and i would be 🌈 anon (for my everlasting love of putting charlie in situations<3))
Ooooo sooo good!! Shes so addicted to Val's drug she just cant get enough <3 Val would definitely share his new toy with Vox and Vel if they were interested 🤭 and I totally agree with you on Vox making her say she prefers him to Alastor hahah. He'd probably say some shit like "Tell me, little Miss Morningstar. Am I better than that radio bitch?! Tell me im better than him. Tell me." While having his way with her :)
Imagine Val forcing her into a threesome... she'd be all like "Hey, this wasn't part of the deal!" But before she can really start protesting, Vox and/or Val use their respective abilities to lull her into a sleepy, drowsy, hypnotic state, so she cant fight back 😳😳
Honestly I have a hard time imagining how Velvette would interact with her! She would definitely make her do some degrading shit tho, just for her entertainment. Make her walk on all fours and call her a stupid dog/puppy, that type of thing lol.
Also, yeah! I can do anon signs offs! Youre the first! Welcome, rainbow anon! Ill be happy to hear any other rambling you have in the future lolz
#hazbin hotel#asks#ship rating#hazbin hotel ships#hazbin hotel fandom#vees#charlie morningstar#valentino#vox#velvette#vox x charlie#vox x charlie morningstar#valentino x charlie#valentino x charlie morningstar#velvette x charlie#velvette x charlie morningstar#hazbin hotel ship#proship#anonymous#🌈 anon
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Lock and Key
I made a final girl for @thesightstoshowyou's slasher OC Lochlan Smith because I have no control over the brainworms.
Kieran "Ki" Dufresne
Full name: Kieran Desdemona Dufresne
Age: 21
Pronouns: She/her
Orientation: Lesbian
Occupation: College student, intern, radio DJ (part time)
Height: 5'6" (168 cm)
Hair: Light brown, long and wavy
Eyes: Brown
Ethnicity: White
Location: East Coast, USA
Detailed info under the cut:
Bio:
Ki is the daughter of Joni, an ex-opera singer turned vocal coach, and Michael, a marketing analyst. Ki's father cheated on her mother for years, starting when Ki was a toddler and lasting until she was 12, at which time he requested a divorce so he could marry his mistress, who was pregnant with his son. Joni was awarded full custody and cut off all contact with Michael. Ki does not speak to her father and has never met her half-brother.
She competed in track and field and cross country in high school, doing well but not exceptional. She is no longer on a team, but continues to run for fitness and her own enjoyment. One of her bucket list goals is to run a marathon on every continent.
Ki is studying music theory and composition, with a minor in audio engineering. She works part time at her university's radio station and has an internship at a local recording/production studio. Her dream career is to compose film scores, particularly for horror, psychological, and/or experimental films. She has taken a couple of film studies classes in college but found the student body in that department to be largely insufferable.
Personality:
Ki is not particularly gregarious and outgoing, but neither is she shy. She is very comfortable with herself - her appearance, her interests, her sexuality. She carries herself with a quiet confidence in professional settings, gets tongue-tied around cute girls, and has a decent-sized friend group that she enjoys spending time with, though she also appreciates her solitude.
Likes: Live music, indie films, dive bars with too-loud music, record stores, old movie theaters, dogs that look like muppets, anything with cinnamon
Dislikes: Excessive movie franchises, peach-flavored alcohol (courtesy of her freshman year), clef tattoos, men who try too hard to be charming
Because of her father's betrayal, combined with years of the type of harassment that many queer women receive from men simply for existing, Ki often views men with mild contempt. Any man who tries to flirt with her after being informed that she is not interested, or who comes on too strong, gets immediately waved off with a sneer. Until a man can prove that he is capable of interacting with her without seeing her as something to fuck or use as a trophy, she is fairly mistrustful of them. Most of her male friends are also queer, and the ones who aren't were introduced to her through other friends/friendly acquaintances. She dislikes the "man-hating lesbian" trope because of its often misogynistic and transphobic subtext, but would rather fall into the "man-hating" category than be forced to appease some loser's ego.
Ki and Lok:
Ki's saving grace is that she is more resistant to his persuasion/hypnosis than others. (This is due in part to her attitude towards men - she has no interest in hearing what he has to say, so he has to say it much more forcefully to get it into her head - but, like Lok, she also has some supernatural heritage a long way down the line.)
She is not immune, but she is not as quick to fall under Lok's spell and, like a wound healing over, his hold on her wears off on her after awhile. The more intensive the trance he puts her in, the deeper the wound, and the longer it takes to heal, but unless he breaks her mind completely, it will wear off.
Gestures, in particular (like the three snaps Lok favors to return people to a deep trance), do not work well on her. An intensive trance is required to make them work on her at all, and deep, repeated conditioning is needed if he wants it to work more than once or after a longer period of time (i.e. more than an hour). Lok therefore has to mainly resort to verbal commands with Ki, and even then he has to be quite specific and may even have to repeat himself.
Lok is bigger and stronger than Ki. She has to rely on creativity and her slight resistance to his main skill in order to escape him.
#original character#final girl#ki dufresne#i want need and deserve more lesbians in horror#and lok deserves a final girl who hates him on sight
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General Masterlist
Here are all my stories not directly related to the Rare Bookseller series:
fuck you, I'm a goddamn menace
The story of a half-redeemed villain and the hero team determined to protect him.
part one
part two
the truth is...
passengers
A world where alien parasites take excellent care of their hypnotized human hosts.
chemical imbalance - A passenger struggling to control their human host visits a doctor for answers.
corporate retreat
An anxious IT person working for an underground supervillainy organization gets sent to their brainwashing department for a mental readjustment.
masterlist
human resistance
The story of some of the last humans on Earth in the face of an unstoppable force -- aliens that use their own weaknesses to turn them into mindless slaves and pets.
masterlist
a good grade in being brainwashed
Stuffy, stressed out corporate lawyer Vinay, lonely and anxious, decides to buy a pet for a companion. He isn't expecting to find his old college roommate, frenemy, and secret crush, now wiped of his memories and most of his personality.
masterlist
one-offs
Whumpy one-offs, primarily featuring hypnosis, drugging and psychological whump.
lay down on the operating table (sedation whump)
listen to my Voice, hero (mind control villain)
the defiant princess (princess hypnotized by her advisor)
walk home late at night (classic vampire kidnapping)
get lost (a hapless wanderer and the fairy who collects them)
we'll make great pets (an owner of a human pet finds the tables turned)
happy to help (disaster genius, put-upon assistant)
simple word problems (hypoxia)
siren song for sirens (siren gets entranced and captured)
test tube fairy (sedated fairy captured in a test tube and drained of magic)
chloroform rag (winner of the sedation vending machine poll)
silent night (winner of the holiday sedation vending machine poll)
challenges
Augusnippets Masterlist
Hypnovember Masterlist
cyoa
Whumpy choose your own adventure stories
brainwashing chair
the fairy king and his real estate agent
The story of Benjamin, disillusioned and unhappy real estate agent, and how he becomes the consort to an egotistical, annoying fairy king.
Smartphone
fanfic
Falsely Persuaded (for whumpsday's Kane & Jim)
My ask box is open as well, if you'd like to ask the characters anything or talk about whump tropes.
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When the Tech Division of the DHMC is in the care of two horny idiots, not a lot of work gets done when you give them a new toy to analyze~
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'THEY BROKE THE LAWS' Matt Gaetz SILENCES Democraft With SH0CKING 'FBI Whistleblower Video' Usman Rana https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tIZAxI72Is8
At sixty five, I've had lots of reason in my life to have zero respect or confidence in the FBI and this only cinches it. This is working on being the most egregious of broken faith, but only barely, it's a high bar standard after the attack on the Weavers, Waco, Oklahoma City. I know there are good men and women who serve, but I've no respect for the "leadership" that has constantly and consistently failed us, The American People, and attacked Americans for simply following the law and holding standards. It's long overdue for the FBI to be completely disbanded. I can't imagine ever having confidence in them again. As a teen, living in Chicago, I watched the FBI investigate "The Chicago Seven conspiracy" situation and demonstrate the criminal acts of the Chicago Police department. That's the last respectable thing I've seen the FBI take part in. John McClain, GySgt, USMC, ret.
youtube
BREAK THRU THE PSYOP! - INFORMATION CONTROL IS MIND CONTROL! - LEARN ABOUT CRIMINAL HYPNOSIS!
https://www.secretdonttell.com/shop pdf&mp3 available
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Lillian's Thoughts on Shizuoka Division
Hojo Kanon
"Hojo Kanon, also known as 'Mz. Hyde'. Subject is a former scientist of Chuohku whom was let go by Otome-sama after finding about her... extracurricular activities. Subject used to be an outstanding scientist for the government. However, an unknown experiment revolving around the Hypnosis Microphone sent her into a year-long coma, which may have had something to do with her current disposition. Otome-sama has stressed that caution be used in regarding her, as her current mind makes her extremely unstable and dangerous."
Aichi Reika
"Aichi Reika, also known as 'Belladonna'. Subject is a wealthy woman of the upper class of Shizuoka. Subject has a standard 'rags to riches' story in that she was born the daughter of an escort and an unknown man. Subject's mother was later murdered by one of her patrons, which brought her into the life of crime and decadence. After murdering her wife's killer in revenge, subject began marrying other wealthy men before executing them for their money, increasing her status.
"This behavior did not sit well with the socialites of Aoyama, who evicted her from the city, forcing her to relocate to Shizuoka, where she became acquainted with Subject Sakura. Personal belief states that subject would be a worthy fit for Chuohku, as Kaori-san mentioned."
Kito Sakura
"Kito Sakura, also known as 'Renegade'. Subject was born introduced to crime early on, due to being born into the Kito-gumi, a small Yakuza gang. Subject was physically and mentally abused by her family members for being the offspring of one of her father's women in the gang. Subject took control of Kito-gumi after murdering her father, stepmother and brother. Under her control, the Kito-gumi grew into a large and powerful Yakuza, rivaling that of the Katen family of Yokohama.
"Subject's crimes are not looked at deeply due to bribery by the Shizuoka police department. As a result, subject has sought to spread her influence outside of Shizuoka, which has been met with opposition by numerous other cities and divisions. Subject is not considered to be a threat, but like Subject Kanon, caution should be used when dealing with her."
Silent Tragedy
"Personal belief is that Shizuoka Division team did not acquire their HypMics from Otome-sama, as Kaori-san mentioned. Despite that, Shizuoka Division team has proven to be quite effective with their HypMics, as they've, in a short amount of time, attracted much attention from the populace of Japan. However, due to their nature, Otome-sama and Ichijiku-san have stated that they must be brought down at once.
"Interaction with group seems highly likely. Should battle occur, taking out the leader, Subject Kanon, first would be advisable due to her rap ability. Subject Reika should be dealt with next, with Subject Sakura saved for last. As stated, Shizuoka Division team should not be underestimated, though victory should be possible if thoughtful action is used.
"Report and analysis on Shizuoka Division team, Silent Tragedy, completed. Moving on to next available assignment."
#hypnosis mic#hypmic#hypmic oc#hypnosis mic oc#hypnosis microphone#inner circle#toshima division#lillian rees#shizuoka division#silent tragedy#hojo kanon#aichi reika#kito sakura
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Mystake divorced the fsm au
Implying Mystake didn’t do the typical parenting hypnosis on Garmadon as well
And by extension Lloyd too.
Mystake did explain this Oni custom to Misako at least because mild mind control is well off putting
Misako’s just accepted this as another Oni thing and if it will protect Lloyd well good.
I mean Garmadon did do a lot of Oni instinct fueled things and they were very shocking but sweet too her
Remember Misako is a monsterfucker
Lloyd and Misako lived with Mystake for a time after Garmadon was banished
Misako didn’t want to see or interact with Wu after what he did.
Oh sure she understood why he did it. But it still hurts and that’s her husband.
Lloyd also grows up with his Gammy’s second true face (Mystake’s Oni form). So he’s not really scared by much due to it.
When the ninja inevitably see Mystake’s true form they finally realize where Garmadon gets his looks
Garmadon does send his shadow to visit with them and send funds to care for them.
Garmadon seemingly able to leave the underworld during day of the departed is a mood.
Since it’s basically ninjago’s Halloween and traditionally the dead are walking the earth on Halloween.
Misako knew the local schools would discriminate against Lloyd due to his father otherwise she would’ve left him with Mystake to attend them.
So that’s why she sent him to Darkley’s and the Skulkin her husband ruled over would protect him.
Unless they wanted a visit from their Lord’s vicious mother who would gladly gnaw on their bones
I love all of this.
-Ivy
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Upon further consideration. Even though it is entirely the wrong ecosystem and I know I already said that Merman!Adrien was born in the coral reefs. But. He totally looks like a betta fish. This guy is colorful and has long, beautiful fins and he totally has little neck fins that pop out when he’s angry (but just make him look even more adorable to everyone else). Like, if the mer-community cared at all about photography, he would still be an underwater model. Does everyone forget the fact that he’s one of the fastest swimmers in the School and definitely a vicious fighter when he needs to be? Yes. Yes they do.
Meanwhile, I don’t know you guys caught my little Easter egg before. But I totally want to make the Gotham Sirens all actual sirens in this AU. Because it works, and it’s funny. So here’s the rundown;
Selina Kyle: I want her based on an iridescent shark— which isn’t a shark, it’s a species of catfish. Which is... maybe partly why I chose it. Because of this, her tail is all her black, but in the right light some of her body is iridescent and shines with soft blues and purples. This isn’t bioluminescence like with a deep sea mermaid, it’s just the color of her skin shifting in the right light like glitter. I say skin, because she doesn’t have scales (iridescent sharks have no scales). So her tail is smooth and slippery. Great for escapes. Being a siren, some of her features are exaggerated even on her fish half. So, her tail fin is more flowy and feathery, almost like a beta fish’s but not nearly as long, and the edges of the tail fin are extra thin, so that they shine and are extra iridescent even in dim lighting. She doesn’t have whiskers, but she does have minor control over her hair. She can control how it floats or falls in order to evoke a certain aesthetic, and the tips of her hair do act as weak sensors. She can’t grab anything with it though, it’s kind of like if you can wiggle your ears. You can move it, but you can’t really... do much with that.
Harley Quinn: totally based off a Mandarinfish/ mandarin dragonet. She has a shorter tail than most mermaids, but it’s much wider and rounder. She has a long torso though, with a decently large, rounded dorsal fin on the middle of her spine. She is very, very colorful. You can tell she is meant to be a siren that captivates immediately, whereas Selina is more of a siren that was meant to allure with mystery. Harley is all bright blues and reds and the occasional dash of pink, supplemented by a few black spots and outlines to bring the other colors into sharper focus. She isn’t fast like Selina, but she is small and agile and very hard to grab ahold of. Her fins are very thin and delicate, but soft and incredibly flexible so they are almost impossible to grab and keep hold of. She is also scaleless like Selina, and her tail naturally produces a mucus that is enhanced by her Siren genes. Instead of being a smelly deterrent, Harley’s natural mucus is actually a quick-acting toxin that can be absorbed by the skin and induces hallucinations. She can control when she does or doesn’t produce it. She still keeps her hair up in pigtails (her hair is mostly blonde, but her fish half does color the tips of each side of her hair so she still has the split blue-and-pink look. Only natural this time). Don’t underestimate her just because she is much more compact in size than a normal siren/mer-person. She has a surprising amount of strength in her upper body to compensate for her lack of easily maneuverable tail.
Poison Ivy: I couldn’t quite decide which species I wanted most, but I knew immediately she had to be an eel mermaid. She’s still very environmentalist and all about protecting the oceans, she will straight up terrify to death anyone she catches dumping in the ocean. Litterbugs, beware. But we’re gonna go with a mix of a dragon moray eel and a snowflake moray. Her main body is dark green, but she has black-and-orange spots down her body and tail. Some look like leaves, others look like skulls. Really, it’s like an ink blot test so it mostly depends on whether or not she’s trying to intimidate the people who see her. Scared people will see skulls, people who are on her good side will usually fondly pick out leaf-patterns (Harley). And she still lives up to the nickname Poison Ivy (humans have this name to her, and she liked it) because she entire body is riddled with different toxins. Like Harley, her body can produce a toxic mucus— but Ivy’s mucus-toxin just makes the victim very drowsy and uncoordinated. Her kiss is also toxic, and is boosted by her Siren powers. Anyone she kisses, as long as she wills it, is temporarily mindlessly in love with her and will work to please her even without her having to say anything. This can be as simple as saving her from a tough situation to... more. Ivy is also the largest of the three infamous Sirens, clocking in at right about ten feet long from head to the tip of her tail, and she is the most physically strong. She suffers a bit in the mobility department purely because of how big her body is, but she is still extremely agile and quick-striking. She often hides amongst kept forests and dense seaweed because she likes plants more than people, but also because her body easily camouflages amongst the similar shapes and colors. Both a captivator and a mysterious beauty in her own right, she has skills that match both Selina and Harley in the Siren department, but it’s tempered by the fact that Ivy is the most quick to attack. Harley enjoys playing with her prey much more, Ivy just does what she needs to be able to get to the violent part. She is picky in her prey, however, in that she really prefers only preying on those who harm the ocean.
General siren information for this AU (or my take on it, anyway). Sirens do have a few common traits that solidify them as one distinct race of Mer-people even with each one usually taking on very different fish-traits. The most well known is a siren’s Charm ability, in which they can use their voice to captivate an audience and perform minor hypnosis. This can be done through both singing and regular speech, as long as their voice is in use and they are putting care into the types of tones they are using. The Charm ability becomes entirely ineffective on other mer-people once they realize that a Siren is not a normal mer-person and even if they don’t know, other mer-people are resistant to the Charm effect. It can only be as potent as social manipulation on other sea dwellers, and cannot make a mermaid or merman do something too far out of their normal character. For humans, knowing they are being Charmed allows them to slowly build up a resistance to the charm’s effect. If they build up enough resistance, then they become effectively immune unless caught off guard. A Charmed human will do almost anything the siren demands, as long as it is not drastic enough to shock the human out of the mind control (i.e telling them to kill a loved one or jump to their death knowingly).
Sirens are largely carnivores, where normal mer-people are omnivores. Some sirens (Ivy) do participate in eating humans, but it is known to be fairly unhealthy (like eating junk food) so it is now done mostly in moderation. Sirens have two sets of teeth, but unlike Deep Sea mermaids, neither set is retractable. The set that is visible is human-like, while behind those human teeth hides a set of needle-like teeth that can slightly extend further out of the gums when necessary for hunting but cannot be completely hidden. These teeth are backward’s curving, like giant snake teeth, and it is notoriously difficult to escape a Siren’s bite.
Sirens, unlike other mer-people, actually do have a need for air and cannot breathe under water. They can hold their breath for hours at a time and speak under water, much like dolphins, but they need to break the surface for air at least once or twice a day. This, of course, leads to more contact with humans.
Sirens are the only mer-people who can develop legs. This happens when they let themselves completely dry out, and if they desire to they can morph their tail into two legs. Their legs will never look human however, as their toes will be webbed and everything below their bellybutton will still be the same colors and pattern as when it is a tail, along with any scales or armor plates they might have remaining. A siren can only maintain this shape for a maximum of forty-eight hours before their skin dries out too much and they start to get dehydrated. Immediately upon contact with water over three inches deep, their legs will begin to re-morph into a tail. Splashing the skin with small amounts of water will only delay dehydration for a maximum of an extra twenty-four hours, as the body consumes water faster than it can be replaced by splashing or small amounts of rain.
That’s what I got :) hope you like it!
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Late Night Errands Chapter 1
Mulder x Reader
Summary: The reader is a paralegal preparing to help defend her client on trial in a week. The stress has finally convinced her to go out and get a stethoscope to help calm her down. Little does she know a certain agent was watching her out while she was out late at night, and it makes her a prime suspect in his eyes.
Y/n= your name
Y/f/n Y/l/n= your first and last name
B/f/n= your best friend’s name
...
Y/n slammed the door shut then started to punch the sides of the steering wheel. What in the world was going through her mind? Of course this store wouldn’t have any stethoscopes! Even if it was a pharmacy. People don’t have stuff like that lying around in their homes. Not normal people, anyway. What was she gonna say to the employee when they inevitably asked why she was looking for one? “Oh, I don’t need one, I just want it for my weird-ass heartbeat kink!” Yeah, that was one conversation she didn’t want to have.
She silently stared at the moon for a few brief moments. Why couldn’t she have a normal kink like everyone else? Like feet, maybe. It still would’ve been weird, but dammit, at least she’d be able to find porn of it. The best she could find easily was cardiophilia fanfiction, and even then, it was scarce.
She snuck glances around the parking lot. Nobody in sight. So hopefully, nobody would notice the blush on her face when she brought up an hour long “asmr heartbeat” video for the sake of calming herself down.
She smiled in bliss. When a heartbeat was in the background, it was like everything melted away. She groaned in frustration when she heard a text from her friend, B/f/n.
Don’t forget we’re having lunch tomorrow! I’m taking your mind off that trial if it’s the last thing I do!
She was double pissed now that the stress of last week filled her head. She was a paralegal, and one of her clients was set to go on trial less than a week from now. It was the oddest case she’d ever seen. The case of Bill Brown.
The man had killed exactly one-hundred people in the span of less than half a year. And the details he gave were chilling. They were vivid and graphic. So, he must’ve been a sociopath or something, right? Well he was super remorseful. And upon turning himself in, that’s right, turning himself in, he sobbed for three days straight. What’s strangest was he claimed he didn’t know they happened until the memories came back to him that night.
She wouldn’t have believed it either, if he didn’t point to bodies that hadn’t been found yet. He helped officers uncover at least a quarter of his victims.
It gave everyone working in his defense a headache. Argue innocence and a false confession? He flat out admitted details the public didn’t know. Did they argue insanity? He seemed pretty fucking sane during interviews and psych evaluations. Self defense? Not in a million years.
What got at her was the genuine feeling he was innocent, and that someone, or something, could be out there. The idea of being out there in the city alone with it out and about gave her the creeps.
“Whatever,” she whispered, turning the audio up so she could return to her blissful ignorant state. Where everything melted away. Where she was actually pretty happy with a smile on her face. With that, she began to drive away.
…
All she could think about when she finished getting dressed was the trial. The trial, the trial, the trial. This was gonna be the biggest train wreck she would ever see in her career, and she had only become a paralegal a mere three years ago. She didn’t envy the defense attorneys she was working under.
Her thoughts were interrupted by three knocks at the door. Strange, she wasn’t expecting anyone today, except for B/f/n, and she was always late for everything.
She looked through the peephole to see two people in fancy clothing outside. She opened the door just a crack.
“H-hello…?”
“Y/f/n Y/l/n,” the man asked. Y/n nodded hesitantly. The man speaking held up the badge and the woman behind him did the same. “Agents Mulder and Skully, FBI. We have a few questions about your client. The one who’s set to go on trial next week.”
She turned her head to the side.
“I’m sorry, I think you might be mistaken. I-I’m not an attorney, I’m just a paralegal.”
“Oh, we’re not mistaken. That’s exactly why we wanted to talk to you.”
She looked inside her apartment real quick, then back at them.
“Okay… come on in. Just come in quickly so the cat doesn’t get out. She has a habit of running outside.”
She was internally grateful that her friend talked her into going out for lunch. She would’ve felt embarrassed if she had had to talk to these well dressed professionals in her pajamas. Skully knelt down, petting Y/n’s cat that had just walked up to the two.
“Um… would you like tea or anything? I’m about to make some for myself now.”
Skully lifted up one of her hands while she let the small animal nuzzle into her other one.
“That won’t be necessary. We plan to be out as soon as possible.”
“O-okay… um... I’m guessing you’re here to ask about Bill Brown?”
Mulder nodded.
“That’s correct.”
“I… don’t really understand. He’s set to go on trial less than a week from now. Why is the FBI getting involved? I thought this was settled, more or less.”
“We think he may be the wrong guy. We’re investigating a series of murders strikingly similar to the ones he supposedly committed a year and a half ago. We need to look at some of the previous evidence and cross examine it with the crimes happening now.”
She still seemed unconvinced.
“Why haven’t you gone to my firm? Or better yet, the police? I-I’m sure they have everything on file.”
Mulder shook his head.
“The lawyers won’t speak to us. And the police department doesn’t want to reopen the investigation when they’re so close to closing it. They don’t want to cause panic.”
She nodded. That actually wasn’t that hard a story to believe, considering the people she worked with on a daily basis. She just looked around the room.
“Okay… you might want to rethink my offer about the tea, then. And have a seat. Because this’ll take a long time.”
...
She presented them with a long list of documents. Some images, most legal papers. She pulled out the two things that were most of interest to her, a map of where the killings took place as well as a few images of supposed murder weapons.
“I’m not really sure what you’re looking for, so here's everything, I guess.”
Skully started flipping through the legal papers, reading passages of the man’s confession. Y/n’s cat slipped under Skully’s arms and laid on her lap as she continued to read. Mulder took a keen eye to the map.
“When did these murders take place?”
“Um, September 14th through February 10th, sir.”
“And he moved here the day these murders started, correct?”
“C-c-correct. You… didn’t already know this?”
“Oh I did. I just wanted to make sure you did. Encyclopedic knowledge of a case is the sign of a good paralegal, don’t you think?”
“Oh!” She let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Thanks…”
“Tell me, Y/n. What do you think happened?”
“Well, the evidence clearly shows he’s guilty, so… we are going to be arguing that he did these crimes due to mania and insanity.”
“No, Y/n. What do you really think?”
She looked down, and started to get finicky. She sat up straight.
“I think he’s innocent… and I have a theory about what happened. But… I don’t think anyone would believe me.”
Skully raised an eyebrow.
“Why haven’t you brought it up with any of the defense attorneys?”
She looked away, then back at the both of them.
“You won’t… tell anyone, right? I don’t wanna lose my job because everyone thinks I’m crazy.”
Mulder nodded expectantly.
“Of course not. Now, what did you find?”
She flipped through the papers.
“While they were at his house… they found a lot of these DVDs.” She was somewhat mumbling under her breath. When she pulled out the image she presented it to Mulder. “I’ve looked them up and they’re all from a lesser known hypnotist.”
Mulder read the bottom of the DVD covers.
“Hannah Martin?”
“...yes. I’ve tried to find those specific DVDs myself, on her website or Amazon or whatnot, but, uh, I can’t find them.”
“Why do you find these significant?”
“Um… Skully, was it? May I please have the written interview?”
She handed it to her. Now that her hands were free, Skully began to pet the cat sitting on her legs, who purred in appreciation. She cleared her throat and began to read.
“Bill said ‘I moved to start a new life, I tried to smile every day, I helped my neighbors, I listened to hypnosis videos every night before bed to make me a better person. I did my best to turn my life around… but I guess I was a monster this whole time. Last night, my memories came back to me in my dreams. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…’”
Mulder nodded.
“So you think that the hypnosis videos he watched before bed may have mind controlled or influenced him into committing these crimes overnight?”
Her face began to turn red and a wave of feeling stupid hit her.
“I’m sorry! I know that sounds insane!”
“No, not to me.” She was in awe. He was actually entertaining her insane supernatural idea? “How far have you looked into this Hanna Martin?”
“You have to pay at least five-hundred dollars for her to create a hundred and fifty custom sessions to send to you personally through DVDs. Um, the first alleged murder was one hundred and forty-nine days before the last alleged murder. That day he confessed would be day one hundred and fifty.”
Mulder seemed incredibly interested. He gazed down at the image he was holding.
“Thank you for bringing this information to my attention. Can you please scan this and make a copy for me? I want to see if I can track down these DVDs.”
“O-okay!”
She was a little excited that her idea was being entertained. And, aside from that, this agent was very cute! So he was cute and as conspiracy crazy as she was?! She smiled like a dope when she was no longer being watched, her back to the two. She began making the copy.
“Another question for you, Y/n.”
She gulped. Something about this man saying her name made her stomach drop.
“Y-yeah…?”
“Do you go out at night often?”
The feeling of her stomach dropping was now from fear.
“What do you mean?”
“I saw your car parked outside the local drugstore late last night, any reason for it?”
She swallowed, hard. She was going for ulterior motives, but she was relieved she had something to fall back on.
“I was getting my medication. Um, I can show you if you want proof?”
“There’s no need to. But midnight is fairly late to be running errands like that, don’t you think?”
She breathed in.
“I couldn’t sleep. So I thought I might as well do something productive.”
He nodded. She turned to look at him, but she couldn’t quite read his face. Was he insinuating what she thought he was? Or was this all in her head? If he thought she was involved, he was probably crazy. She just laid out all this evidence to prove her client innocent, and possibly even helped point to the real killer, yet he thought she might be the guilty one?
“Did you happen to purchase anything from this hypnotist?”
“No, I don’t have that kind of money… and besides, i-if I am right, I don’t know if I would want to get anything from her.”
“Mhm.”
Her dopey smile and blush was gone by the time she handed the copied image to Mulder.
“I’m not sure about the legality of this…”
“Don’t worry. I’ll deal with it.”
She was a bit angry when they left. B/f/n was a bit confused walking in.
“What happened?”
“Ugh! The stupid FBI is involved in the case now. They wanted to see some stuff.”
She tilted her head to the side and her nose crinkled in disbelief.
“The FBI?”
“I don’t know either! Just… help me pick up these papers. Actually, don’t! I need to make sure they’re all in order before court in a few days!”
She nodded as Y/n began to put everything as they were supposed to be.
“...that guy was kind of cute.”
She sighed.
“I thought that, too. But actually, he’s a dick.”
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America’s Gay Men in WW2
World War Two was a “National Coming Out” for queer Americans.
I don’t think any other event in history changed the lives of so many of us since Rome became Christian.
For European queers the war brought tragedy.
The queer movement began in Germany in the 1860s when trans activist Karl Ulrichs spoke before the courts to repeal Anti-Sodomy laws. From his first act of bravery the movement grew and by the 1920s Berlin had more gay bars than Manhattan did in the 1980s. Magnus Hirschfeld’s “Scientific Humanitarian Committee” fought valiantly in politics for LGBT rights and performed the first gender affirmation surgeries. They were a century ahead of the rest of the world.
The Nazis made Hirschfeld - Socialist, Homosexual and Jew - public enemy number one.
The famous image of the Nazis burning books? Those were the books of the Scientific Humanitarian Committee. Case studies of the first openly queer Europeans, histories, diaries - the first treasure trove of our history was destroyed that day.

100,000 of us were charged with felonies. As many as 15,000 were sent to the camps, about 60% were murdered.
But in America the war brought liberation.
In a country where most people never even heard the word “homosexual” , historian John D’emilio wrote the war was “conducive both to the articulation of a homosexual identity and to the more rapid evolution of a gay subculture. (24)” The war years were “a Watershed (Eaklor 68)”
Now before we begin I need to give a caveat. The focus of this first post is not lesbians, transfolk or others in our community. Those stories have additional complexity the story of cisgender homosexual men does not. Starting with gay men lets me begin in the simplest way I can, in subsequent posts I’ll look at the rest of our community.
Twilight Aristocracy: Being Queer Before the War
I want us to go back in time and imagine the life of the typical queer American before the war. Odds are you lived on a farm and simply accepted the basic fact that you would marry and raise children as surely as you were born or would die. You would have never seen someone Out or Proud. If you did see your sexuality or gender in contrary ways you had no words to express it, odds are even your doctor had never heard the term “Homosexual. In your mind it was just a quirk, without a name or possible expression.
In the city the “Twilight Aristocracy” lived hidden, on the margins and exposed their queerness only in the most coded ways. Gay men “Dropping pins” with a handkerchief in a specific pocket. Butch women with key chains heavy enough to show she didn’t need a man to carry anything for her. A secret language of “Jockers” and “Nances” “Playing Checkers” during a night out. There is a really good article on the queer vernacular here
And these were “Lovers in a Dangerous Time.”
In public one must act as straight as possible. Two people of the same gender dancing could be prosecuted. Cross dressing, even with something as trivial as a woman wearing pants, would run afoul of obscenity laws.
The only spaces we had for ourselves were dive bars, run by organized crime. But even then one must be sure to be circumspect, and act straight. Anyone could be an undercover cop. If a gaze was held to long, or lovers kissed in a corner the bar would be raided. Police saw us as worthy candidates for abuse so beatings were common and the judge would do all he could to humiliate you.
Now Michael Foucault, the big swinging french dick of queer theory, laid out this whole theory about how the real policing in a society happens inside our heads. Ideas about sin, shame, normalcy, mental illness can all be made to control people, and the Twilight Aristocracy was no different.
While cruising a park at night, or settled on the sofa with a lifelong lover, the thoughts of Priests and Doctors haunted them. “Am I living in Sin? Am I someone God could love?” “Is this healthy? Have I gone mad? Is this a true love or a medical condition which requires cure?”
There was no voice in America yet healing our self doubt, or demanding the world accept us as we are. And that voice, the socialist Harry Hay, did not come during the war, but it would come shortly after directly because of it.
Johnny Get Your Gun… And are you now or ever been a Homosexual?
For the first time in their lives millions of young men crossed thousands of miles from their home to the front.
But before they made that brave journey they had another, unexpected and often torturous journey. The one across the doctor’s office at a recruiting station.
In the nineteenth century queerness moved from an act, “Forgive me Father I have sinned, I kissed another man” to something you are, “The homosexual subspecies can be identified by certain physical and psychological signs.”
These were the glory days of patriarchy and white supremacy, those who transgressed the line between masculine and feminine called the whole culture into question. So doctors obsessed themselves with queerness, its origins, its signs, its so called catastrophic racial consequences and its cure.
“Are you a homosexual?” doctors asked stunned recruits.
If you were closeted but patriotic, you would of course deny the accusation. But the doctor would continue his examination by checking if you were a “Real Man.”
“Do you have a girlfriend? Did you like playing sports as a kid?”
If you passed that, the doctor would often try and trip you up by asking about your culture.
“Do you ever go basketeering?” he would ask, remembering to check if there was any lisp or effeminacy in your voice.
Finally if the doctor felt like it he could examine your body to see if you were a member of the homosexual subspecies.
Your gag reflex would be tested with a tongue depressor. Another hole could be carefully examined as well.
Humiliating enough for a straight man. But for a gay recruit the consequences could be life threatening.
Medical authorities knew homosexuals were weak, criminal and mad. To place them among the troops would weaken unit cohesion at the very least, result in treachery at the worst. In civilian life doctors had much the same thing to say.
The recruit needed a cure. And a doctor was always ready. With talk therapy, hypnosis, drugs, electroshock and forced surgeries of the worst kinds there was always a cure ready at hand.
Thankfully the doctors were not successful in their task, one doctor wrote “for every homosexual who was referred or came to the Medical Department, there were five or ten who never were detected. (d’Emilio 25)”
Here’s the irony though, by asking such pointed and direct questions to people closeted to themselves it forced them to confront their sexuality for the first time.
Hegarty writes, “As a result of the screening policies, homosexuality became part of wartime discourse. Questions about homosexual desire and behavior ensured that every man inducted into the armed forces had to confront the possibility of homosexual feelings or experiences. This was a kind of massive public education about homosexuality. Despite—and be-cause of—the attempts to eliminate homosexuals from the military, men with same-sex desires learned that there were many people like themselves (Hegarty 180)”
And then it gave them a golden opportunity to have fun.
The 101st Airborn - Homosocial and Homosexual
“Homosocial” refers to a gender segregated space. And they were often havens for gay men. The YMCA for example really was a place for young gay men to meet.

Now the government was already aware of the kind of scandalous sexual behaviour young men can get up to when left to themselves. Two major government programs before the war, the Federal Transient Program and the Civilian Conservation Corps focused on unattached young men, but over time these spaces became highly suspect and the focus shifted to helping family men so as to avoid giving government aid to ‘sexual perversion’ in these homosocial spaces.
But with the war on there was no choice but to put hundreds of thousands of young men in their own world. All male boot camps, all male bases, all male front lines.
The emotional intensity broke down the barriers between men and the strict enforcement of gendered norms.
On the front the men had no girlfriend, wife or mother to confide in. The soldier’s body was strong and heroic but also fragile. Straight men held each other in foxholes and shared their emotional vulnerability to each other. Gender lines began to blur as straight men danced together in bars an action that would result in arrest in many American cities.
Bronski writes, “Men were now more able to be emotional, express their feelings, and even cry. The stereotypical “strong, silent type,” quintessentially heterosexual, that had characterized the American Man had been replaced with a new, sensitive man who had many of the qualities of the homosexual male. (Bronski 152)”
Homosexual men discovered in this environment new freedoms to get close to one another without arousing suspicion.
“Though the military officially maintained an anti-homosexual stance, wartime conditions nonetheless offered a protective covering that facilitated interaction among gay men (d’Emilio 26)”
Bob Ruffing, a chief petty officer in the Navy described this freedom as follows, ‘When I first got into the navy—in the recreation hall, for instance— there’d be eye contact, and pretty soon you’d get to know one or two people and kept branching out. All of a sudden you had a vast network of friends, usually through this eye contact thing, some through outright cruising. They could get away with it in that atmosphere. (d’Emilio 26) ”
Another wrote about their experience serving in the navy in San Diego, “‘Oh, these are more my kind of people.’ We became very chummy, quite close, very fraternal, very protective of each other. (Hegarty 180)”
Some spaces within the army became queer as well. The USO put on shows for soldiers, and since they could not find women to play parts, the men often dressed in drag. “impersonation. For actors and audiences, these performances were a needed relief from the stress of war. For men who identified as homosexual, these shows were a place where they could, in coded terms, express their sexual desires, be visible, and build a community. (Bronski 148)”

“Here you see three lovely “girls”
With their plastic shapes and curls.
Isn’t it campy? Isn’t it campy?
We’ve got glamour and that’s no lie;
Can’t you tell when we swish by?
Isn’t it campy? Isn’t it campy?”
The words camp and swish being used in the gay subculture and connected to effeminate gay men.
I would have to assume, more than a few transwomen gravitated to these spaces as well.
Even the battlefield itself provided opportunities for gay fraternization. A beach in Guam for example became a secret just for the gay troops, they called it Purple Beach Number 2, after a perfume brand.
This homoerotic space was not confined to the military, but spilled out into civilian life as well.
Donald Vining was a pacifist who stated bluntly his homosexuality to the recruitment board as his mother needed his work earnings, and if you wanted be a conscientious objector you had to apply to go to an objector’s camp. He became something of a soldier chaser, working in the local YMCA and volunteering at the soldier’s canteen in New York he hooked up with soldiers still closeted for a night of passion but many more who were open about who they were.
After the war he was left with a network of gay friends and a strong sense of belonging to a community. It was dangerous tho, he was victim of robberies he could not report because they happened during hook ups, but police were always ready to raid gay bars when they were bored. “It was obvious that [the police] just had to make a few arrests to look busy,” he protested in his diary. “It was a travesty of justice and the workings of the police department (d’Emilio 30).״
Now it might seem odd he was able to plug into a community like that, but over the war underground gay bars appeared across the country for their new clientele. Even the isolated Worcester Mass got a gay bar.
African American men, barred from combat on the front lines, were not entirely barred from the gay subculture in the cities. For example in Harlem the jazz bar Lucky Rendevous was reported in Ebony as whites and blacks “steeped in the swish jargon of its many lavender costumers. (Bronski 149)”
The Other War: Facing Homophobia
“For homosexual soldiers, induction into the military forced a sudden confrontation with their sexuality that highlighted the stigma attached to it and kept it a matter of special concern (d’Emilio 25)”
“They were fighting two wars: one for America, democracy, and freedom; the other for their own survival as homosexuals within the military organization. (Eaklor 68)”
Once they were in, they fell under Article 125 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice: “Any person subject to this chapter who engages in unnatural carnal copulation with another person of the same or opposite sex or with an animal is guilty of sodomy. Penetration, however slight, is sufficient to complete the offense.”
Penalties could include five years hard labour, forced institutionalization or fall under the dreaded Section 8 discharge, a stamp of mental instability that would prevent you from finding meaningful employment in civilian life.
Even if one wanted nothing to do with fulfilling their desires it was still essential to become hyper aware of your presentation and behaviour in order to avoid suspicion.
Coming Home to Gay Ghettos
“The veterans of World War II were the first generation of gay men and women to experience such rapid, dramatic, and widespread changes in their lives as homosexuals. Bronski 154”
After the war many queer servicemen went on to live conventionally heterosexual lives. But many more returned to a much queerer life stateside.
Bob Ruffing would settle down in San Francisco. The city has always been a safe harbour for queer Americans, made more so as ex servicemen gravitated to its liberated atmosphere. The port cities of New York, San Francisco and Los Angeles became the prime destinations to settle. Vining’s partner joined him in New York, where they both immersed themselves in the gay culture.

Other soldiers moved to specific neighborhoods known for having small gay communities. San Francisco’s North Beach, the west side of Boston’s Beacon Hill, or New York’s Greenwich Village. Following the war the gay populations of these cities increased dramatically.
The cities offered parks, coffee houses and bars which became queer spaces. And drag performance, music and comedy became features of this culture.
These veterans also founded organizations just for the queer soldiers. In Los Angeles the Knights of the Clock provided a space for same sex inter racial couples. In New York the Veterans Benevolent Association would often see 400-500 homosexuals appear at its events.
A number of books bluntly explored homosexuality following the war, such as The Invisible Glass which tells the story of an inter racial couple in Italy,
“With a slight moan Chick rolled onto his left side, toward the Lieutenant. His finger sought those of the officer’s as they entwined their legs. Their faces met. The breaths, smelling sweet from wine, came in heavy drawn sighs. La Cava grasped the soldier by his waist and drew him tightly to his body. His mouth pressed down until he felt Chick’s lips part. For a moment they lay quietly, holding one another with strained arms.”
Others like Gore Vidal’s The City and the Pillar (1948), Fritz Peters’s The World Next Door (1949), and James Barr’s Quatrefoil (1950) explored similar themes.
In 1948 the Kinsey Report would create a public firestorm by arguing that homosexuality is shockingly common. In 1950 The Mattachine Society, a secretive group of homosexual Stalinists launched America’s LGBT movement.
References:
Michael Bronski “A Queer History of the United States”
John D’emilio “Coming Out Under Fire”
Vivki L Eaklor “Queer America: A GLBT History of America”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Lesbians
In 1947 General Eisenhower told a purple heart winning Sargeant Johhnie Phelps, “It's come to my attention that there are lesbians in the WACs, we need to ferret them out”.
Phelps replied, “"If the General pleases, sir, I'll be happy to do that, but the first name on the list will be mine."
Eisenhower’s secretary added “"If the General pleases, sir, my name will be first and hers will be second."
Join me again May 17 to hear the story of America’s Lesbians during the war.
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"Pre-production"
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Affirmation
O Spirit,
No matter what my tests be,
May I bear them joyously
By feeling Thy presence always in my heart.
Thus all the tragedies and comedies of life
Will seem naught but dramas
Of ecstatic entertainment.
The Mind Controls the Effectiveness of All Programs for Health and Success in Life
In this jungle of life, surrounded by enemies - disease, poverty, suffering, bad habits, and wrong desires - there are so many rules to be observed that life becomes intolerable when you try to keep them all in mind. You tire of them because each department of life is limitless in its potential for diversity. When you attempt to apply health rules you are nearly overwhelmed - there is no time to think about anything else! And everyone has a different set of health precepts for you to follow. We are under a great hypnosis. As I tried different methods, this truth dawned on me: MIND CONTROLS THE EFFECTIVENESS OF THEM ALL.
God has given us one tremendous instrument of protection - more powerful than machine guns, electricity, poison gas, or any medicine - the mind. It is the mind that must be strengthened. An important part of the adventure of life is to get hold of the mind, and to keep that controlled mind constantly attuned to the Lord. This is the secret of a happy, successful existence.
Paramahansa Yogananda
Man’s Eternal Quest p 68
*People spend entire days and nights researching the latest health measures for the current virus, as well as for other maladies. Condense that time to a practical level for balanced living. Your mind becomes stronger through meditation, positive thinking, and application of health laws. A state of overall wellbeing springs from God-attunement. Spiritual joy is preventative medicine for illnesses of all kinds. The cells of your body become activated with energy, as if they are dancing and sparkling with prana or lifetrons. Wishing you a day of healing God joy. OmVitality, Annie
Learn to Meditate through Home Study - Share this with your friends who might like to learn:
https://yogananda.org/lessons
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