#alia babbles

[spideesenses]

nsfw babble ! 18+ minors DNI

holy, are you spent

what had started off as an intimate love making kiss, turned into a tearjerking fuck.

your wrist is pinned to your back, the other hand gripping the sheets under you as miguel shoves your face into your pillow as he violently pistons his hips into yours. your muffled moans are music to his ears as you come down from your fifth orgasm of the night. you hear his grunt from behind you as your walls spasm around him. he slows down his pace, gently caressing your back. you pant and whimper at the touch. miguel pulls out of you and you shudder at the feeling.

“you okay baby?” he questions as be flips you over. your hair sticks to your face with your sweat and he chuckles before pushing your hair out of your face, peppering your face with kisses. you can’t help but press the balls of your feet into his butt cheeks, pressing him against you.

he raises his eyebrow with amusement before complying to your needs and slipping back in, watching as your face contorts in pleasure. he could watch you all day.

“mmm ‘want you to come again for me,” you plead, locking your ankles around his waist, forcing him to fill you to the brim. miguel hisses, cursing under his breath.

“i don’t think i can, my love,” he admits, chuckling at your eagerness. he’d already finished twice, and while he’d love to make you come more, the thought of his release again intrigued him.

“no?” you pout. “please?” you ignore his protests. “but i want you to.” you grip his jaw and force him to look at you. miguel loved this side of you. his little cockdrunk love. “i wanna be stuff so full of you.”

reluctantly, he slowly moves his hips, his hand resting beside your head as he gazes into your eyes. you can feel every inch of him. when you didn’t feel like he was close enough to you, you’d press your feet against his butt to make him bottom out into you and your tummy flipped in excitement when his jaw would fall, a small gasp leaving his throat.

your words in your filthy voice echoed in his head.

want you to come again.

please?

but i want you to..

miguel’s pace was painfully slow, but it was working. the sultry look in your eyes was helping him. your hand on his face, oh this was so intimate for him. your other hand gripped his bicep, squeezing it anytime he’d hit that sweet spot in you.

“you gonna come? please? i want you to come for me, yeah, fill me up,” you murmured to him like a mantra.

it hit him quicker than he thought, like a tidal wave. his hips stuttered and he moaned your name, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours. his eyes were shut tightly and your hands drew shapes against the skin on his back.

“you okay?” you repeated his question. miguel had been panting. he swore he just blacked out.

“yeah,” he huffed, opening his eyes finally. miguel kisses you feverishly. “you’re so spoiled.” he grins at you.

“and you love it.”

[blinkpen]

sometimes i look back to years ago when i was like “zoe being a comically pathetic and unstable weirdo under his wistfully romantic facade shall be a secret until it’s revealed proper” and “demersa’s face under her mask shall be a secret until it’s revealed proper” and stuff like that i laugh

[sergeantpixie]

tell me about whichever WIP isn't about elena gilbert if you can

Anon I know you're trying to be mean but a) I have no shame about how many Elena verses I have, that's my Girl, and b) I am so delighted to be able to talk about the one verse on that list that has nothing to do with Elena Gilbert, that's why I put it there! So thank you!

"I am willing to take more hurt if it's from you" is a project I've been working on for so long and I'm finally making some real progress on it which feels amazing! It's my Alison DiLaurentis/Aria Montgomery (Pretty Little Liars) fic that is supposed to be as canon based as possible, just using the subtext between the two characters to create a story where Alison and Aria were secretly hooking up before Alison disappeared.

Instead of giving you the full pitch on why they make sense as a ship (and why they are basically canon, or at least Alison having feelings for Aria is) I'll just refer to a post where I went off in the tags about them because it says pretty much everything I would say about it here: this post.

In summary: When Alison asked Aria if she knew why she picked her, the answer is: Ali's obsessed with Aria.

The premise of the story would be Alison and Aria's relationship being Rosewood's best kept secret, then when the liars discover Alison has been alive all this time, Aria feels compelled to confess what happened between them all those years ago in order to get ahead of Alison and prevent her from using that to alienate her from the other girls. (Alison is still Alison, I have no interest in changing that.) It's the girls' reaction to that as well as an exploration of Aria and Alison as characters. And maybe Ezra really is A but that might just be implied we'll see.

Between Jake, Ezra, and her first love’s girl-Jesus resurrection, Aria’s love life has never been more complicated, and that’s like, really saying something.

the tiniest excerpt :)

@randomestfandoms

[genderqueer-hippie]

I was tagged by @ineffabildaddy to fill out a get to know you doodad so here we are! Thank you for the tag, I love these things!

Real name: Jasmine - I was named after my dad's favorite flower

Nicknames & origins: In high school I was called Raph (we assigned teenage mutant ninja turtles to each other like normal ppl) and Grandma (long running joke of our friends long story) Jael was my first one online, an alias back in my days of livejournal. Jay is the most common and I enjoy it because it's gender neutral and easy to remember.

AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatchouliDreamsForever/profile

Social media: this is the only place I am active

Pets: Oscar, Grace, and Bruiser. Not pictured is Buddy, a lab/mastiff mix

Hobbies: hiking, writing, foraging, camping, video games, reading, embroidery, cooking, other things that my noodle brain has forgotten

Personality: I tend to be more shy, especially in unfamiliar situations. I'm quick to be friends if I vibe well with someone. I tend to babble like a hamster on uppers when I talk about things I enjoy. Idk I'm just a super laid back queer stoner type (who is currently very stoned lol)

Fav holiday: I don't have a favorite, actually? I just enjoy the family time of a holiday meal together.

Fav food: edamame

Fav dessert: I'm a whore for gelato

Fav color: eggplant

Fav quotes: "But I digress..." is very relevant to my daily life

Fav books: The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, The Jungle Books, Fahrenheit 451, Good Omens, Wind in the Willows, I could go on but I won't

Fav TV shows: okay in no particular order, let the list unfold- Golden Girls, Buffy, Star Trek, Doctor Who, Interview with the Vampire, Willow, Good Omens, Staged, Our Flag Means Death, A League of Their Own, Torchwood,

Fav films: Lord of the Rings trilogy, The Birdcage, But I'm a Cheerleader, Funny Face, Charade, Princess Bride, The Blue's Brothers, Eyes Without a Face, Chicago, and so many more

Fav characters: I have so many!

Fav actors: currently all about David Tennant but Audrey Hepburn is always my go-to answer

Fav songs: Rhiannon Giddens is an amazing artist and everything I've heard from her is my favorite. I highly recommend Julie

Fav genre: I listen to so many things. I guess most listened to is blues and folk, but classical is another main staple of mine.

Fav podcast: I don't really listen to them tbh

Have you ever met a celebrity? Yes. Went to a Supernatural convention back in ...2013? Osric was running around the lobby in footie pajamas hanging out with everyone. I froze when Misha sat next to me at the cocktail party. I hugged Matt and he was super sweet. Karaoke was super fun. Ah, memories 😌

Have you ever been to a concert? Quite a few! I haven't been to one in a long time though.

Do you collect anything? I like rocks, books, physical media (CDs, DVDs, VHS), teas, wax seals and stationery

Idols? Idk that I really have an idol?

Is there a real life friend you can be yourself around? For the most part, yeah

Where would you love to travel? So many places. I haven't traveled far at all.

Random fact about yourself: when I was a kid I'd spend road trips daydreaming about running off into the woods and living a hermit life in a cave

This took longer than it should have but it was fun! I tag any of my moots that want to have an excuse to do it!

[stagefullofentertainment]

Hazbin Hotel Headcanon Bundle #1

Yet another new thing of mine! Pretty simple, actually. Just a few headcanons for, as I would like to call, my main 6. These might be out of the blue and not interconnected or maybe not, we both will have to see what happens. Be my guest, dear friend!

CHARLIE

Charlie would be an avid cute simulation games player. Minecraft, Stardew Walley, Sims and much more.

She is a holiday person who always has way too much planned in advance. Decorations, food, music, activities, everything! Halloween, Valentine’s Day, somebody’s birthday, anything!

Is on the “Cute Animals” side of Helltok.

VAGGIE

Exercises every day. Hazbin Hotel definitely has at least a little gym in which Vaggie spends no less than an hour or two a day.

 Has a custom bingo card for every resident. In there she writes sort of predictions for them, for instance, “Alastor finally asks how to use a normal phone”. Funny thing, she has all of them half – filled already.

Can play loads of songs on guitar and is a quick learner to new ones.

ALASTOR

This man does not approve of any kind of transport. He only travels by walking or some teleportation, maybe via shadows.

Is a total lightweight. A few glasses/shots according to alcohol’s degree and Alastor is a babbling mess.

When he first came down to Hell, he made a few allies, later turned friends from around his death decade. They jokingly made a bet about who will die last in Hell. Today they are either dead because of Termination Day or Alastor completely cut ties with them due to some bad blood in between. He stills does a quick check – up out of interest to see if they are still “alive”.

ANGEL

His Hell’s equivalent of dating app description would be “Angel in life, devil in bed”.

Actually knows how to sew and decorate clothes. Has made a few for himself and dozens for the Fat Nuggets.

Loves reality tv shows. Has seen all “Love Island” seasons, since it is his favourite one.

HUSK

Knows a handful of close – up magic tricks with cards. Always gets the right card.

Although he has wings, Husk never bothered to learn how to properly fly.

Loves 70’s esthetic.

NIFFTY

Listens to boy bands regularly. New, old – all!

Is the best at any kind of board game. Monopoly’s monarch, slayer of Scrabble, absolute queen of Alias. Though, she lets others win sometimes. Sometimes…

Niffty loves to study new subjects and expand her knowledge on practically anything she can possibly can.

[mitamicah]

Returning the ask: 9, 20 and 76 :)

Hehehe nice :3

Thank you for the questions :D The answers will be under the line because I am babbling x'D

9. Tattoos I want:

Oh boy I have way too many ideas :'D Like you I am not great with needles but having learned that some piercing placements and tattoo needles in general are not bothering me that much comparred to hospital needles on top of me loving the result enough to endure the uncomfortability of the needles for a tme I have found myself addicted x'D (that said my longest tattoo session so far has been 2 hours so I might change tune the day I try a full day session x'D)

Here's a list of ideas I have rn that may or may not come true (the ones with the asterix are the ones I have the most faith in will happen while the ones with the " at the end are ones where I need help from somebody else to get the idea across):

'Are You' written on my arm in Bojan's handwriting "

Lyrics from Cha Cha Cha under my chest (with some sort of visual on the chest itself - rn thinking of a fox in the bolero) post top surgery *"

SOMETHING from a talented artist in Finland * (this may seem vague and it is - the deal is that I have a date where I want to get a tattoo yet challenged myself to chose a flash or available design from an artist so to not overthink the design as I sometimes tend to do)

A fox with flowers on my right shoulder (a flash from an artist I like)

An eevee next to Flapjack on my left arm

A bulbasaur with spiked collar and/or bowlcut hair

Spirit with or without Little Creek from Spirit: Stallion of the Cimmarron somewhere on my left arm

A converse shoe with the words 'I lost my dam shoe' around it on my shin

Misteltoe branches around my rune tattoo on my left arm

The tree birds concept (x) over my right collarbone or on my right thigh

A candle under my left knee

My singer alias logo somewhere on my arm or leg

I've kept the explainations at the miminum here yet if you are curious about any of the ideas feel free to ask :3

20. Height:

I'm pretty happy with being able to say that I am around the height of the average Danish guy :3 (177-8 cm/5,10'') Tbh that is one thng I've always been very grateful for even before learning that I was trans :'D

76. Have you ever done something you told yourself you wouldn't?

Probably singing in front of people: When I was younger I was told by my mother and sister especially that my singing voice was shit and I believed them, and yet now I run to karaoke events lke a moth to a flame, sing tenor in a choir and make my own songs from time to tme. I love being proven wrong sometimes x'D

Another one is wearing a crop top or just in general having an exposed midsection out in public. This is another thing that in part has been influenced by my mother since she was very keen on putting me and her in a box together as 'people who were too big to be wearing crop tops'. (the other reason I never thought I'd do it is my own insecurities with my body that is influenced by gender dysphoria). This one I have to thank Käärijä and the kääryleet for debunking for me: Who cares if I am not 'the right size' for a crop top!?

I think that was it for now :3 thank you for the question yet again :D

[mariacallous]

Nursultan Nazarbayev, who served as Kazakhstan’s first president from 1991 until 2019, has reportedly revealed in a new memoir that he has a second wife and that they have two sons together. An excerpt from the book, which has not yet been released in its entirety, was published by the Kazakhstani outlet Orda.kz.

In the passage, Nazarbayev says he met his previously-unacknowledged wife, Asel Isabayeva, during a trip to the town of Taldykorgan.

During the head of state’s official trips to the regions, he would be met with flowers when he got off the plane. It’s well known that the prettiest local girls would be chosen to participate in this ceremony. A beautiful ritual that we’d long since gotten accustomed to. From the moment you arrive in a new place, your eyes are pleased and your soul becomes warm. But this time I was especially impressed. The young woman who presented me flowers at the airport was strikingly beautiful. She stayed in my memory for a long time — a fair-faced beauty with a fiery gaze and an elegant, chiseled figure.

The former president goes on to recount how he managed to learn the woman’s identity in 1999, when he saw her in the news after she won that year’s Miss Kazakhstan pageant.

Our friendship grew into mutual sympathy, and that sympathy into intimacy. We gradually began seeing each other. And in Asel’s appearance and thoughts, I found many qualities that I’d been searching for. And most importantly, I freed myself from my long years of spiritual loneliness.

According to Nazarbayev, he married Isabayeva in a religious ceremony. The couple’s first son, Tauman, was born in 2005, and their second son came in 2008.

The joy of fatherhood, the happiness of kissing one’s baby came back to me when I was already over 65 years old. My babies’ first steps, their first words and babbling speech, holding them in my arms, the magical world of their toys, their first day of school, the joys of them learning to read and write, their noisy run to come greet me when I came home after work — all of this seemed to lighten my burdens during the period when the capital was being built.

Nazarbayev writes that his first wife, Sara, and his three daughters, Dariga, Dinara, and Alia, understood and forgave his decision to get married for a second time.

“There you have it, friends. I’ve laid out the whole truth. What you have to say about it is your business. This is life. There’s one irrefutable truth: the heart wants what it wants,” he concludes.

[jojosbizareadventureoc]

PILLARWOMAN/ HUMAN OC

❝Dont judge a book by its cover or a person by there actions alone. It can prove a fatal mistake.❞

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

G e n e r a l I n f o r m a t i o n

Full Name

☾ Emily Rose

Namesake / Meaning

☾ Grandmother's name and mother's favorite flower

Alias / Nicknames

[c]☾ Desert flower

Hamon dancer

Age

☾ 100,000 years (Appears in her late 20s early 30s)

Mental Age

☾ 100,000 years with childlike humor

Species

☾ Half human hamon user half pillarwoman

Gender

☾ Female

Pronouns

☾ she her miss maam

Sexuality

☾ straight

Blood Type

☾ unknown

Birthday

☾ 100,000 years ago around april

Birthplace

☾ An unknown tribe of pillarmen close to American mountains

Nationality

☾ Early Pre American pillarman and early native american hamon monk

(I dont really know. Her tribe was from somewhere closer to north america)

Zodiac Sign

☾ aries

Occupation

☾ Hamon student first then hamon instructor training in hamon healing and defensive fighting. After her village was destroyed she traveled the world doing so many different jobs she has forgotten most if them. Today she travels the world looking for more information about her heritage and healing others as she goes.

Affiliation

☾ (depends on the role-play plot)

Goal

☾ to learn more about her mothers heritage. Possibly find more like herself. To try and feel less lonely.

❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉

❝The world over time though interesting in its changes has grown cold and lonely to me.❞

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

M e n t a l & P h y s i c a l S t a t e

Disabilities

☾ sun burns easily

Allergies

☾ lightly allergic to the sun and pollin

Mental Illness(es)

☾ light insomniac

Illness(es)

☾ none

Genetic Disease(s)

☾ none

Diet

☾ loves meat and sweats other than that she has a normal diet

Hygiene

☾ loves to be clean. Hates public toilets. Can not stand unkempt nails.

❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉

╭──────────.★..─╮

╰─..★.──────────╯

❝My nails are my pride. They have to be perfect.❞

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

P e r s o n a l i t y

Personality Description

☾ kind and caring to everyone. She respects all life and tries not to harm anyone or anything but she does hate bugs. Emily loves to explore and learn about new technology. Emily loves books and music and being outdoors. Shes usually nice to everyone but if you make her mad or hurt her friends she turns into a terrifying predatory like defender with the aura of a tiger stalking its prey. She hates womanizing men and meaningless flirting but secretly is shy around good looking guys and if one were to flirt with her she would mentally shut down turning into a babbling mess like a teen age girl. She has a fear of forever being alone due to her race and long lifespan plus shes afraid her strength with be to much for anyone to ever be safe with.

Positive Traits

☾ always loyal to friends. Kind and soft hearted. Easily makes friends. Loves to help. Loves to learn and teach.

Negative Traits

☾ tends to hate herself. Has a habit of being a loner. Freaks out when seeing bugs or being threatened by bugs. When she gets angry she shows some of her pillarwoman powers blowing her human cover.

Strengths

☾ is 100,000 years old and carries a lot of knowledge with her. Is super strong and tough. Can see hear and smell better than humans. Can use strong hamon for healing and fighting.

Weaknesses

☾ sun burns easily. Gets depressed at times and just shuts down. Fears hurting others. Doesn't like fire. Is a slight insomniac. Is a natural lightning rod often getting struck

Hobbies

☾ listening to and playing music. Singing. Painting. Drawing. Training with hamon and martial arts. Healing others. Reading books. Researching history. World traveling.

Habits

☾ stays up for several days and nights at a time. Eats to many sweets. Drinks an inhuman amount of alcohol. Hums to herself an old lullaby her mother use to sing. Takes incredible good care of her nails.

Bad Habits

☾ over reacts to nasty bathrooms and braking a nail. Picks at her scabs or bites her lip till it bleeds when she's nervous. Often spends to much time alone.

Talents

☾ can sing play instruments draw paint is extremely flexible remembers things very well use hamon for healing or fighting is grate at martial arts and knows more than any human hamon user alive in current day about hamon

Beliefs / Religion

☾ all life is precious

Phobias & Fears

☾ bugs and that shell live eternally alone never finding anything about her mothers half of her family and that shell accidentally hurt someone

Pet Peeves

☾ hates womanizers and bad nails

❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉

╭──────────.★..─╮

╰─..★.──────────╯

❝I will squash you like a bug if you ever harm an innocent soul again.❞

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

L i k e s & D i s l i k e s

Likes

☾ music. Sweets. Meat. Art. Reading. Traveling. Helping others. Learning. Training. Watching horror movies.

Dislikes

☾ bugs womanizers breaking a nail animal cruelty bullies storms

❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉

❝Don't try and quote the past to me. Give been there.❞

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

T h i s O r T h a t

Introverted or Extroverted ?

☾ a little of both

Calm or Tense ?

☾ mostly calm

Insane or Sane ?

☾ sane just a bit silly at times

Patient or Impatient ?

☾ patient with some impatient with idiots

Logical or Emotional ?

☾ a bit of both

Reckless or Careful ?

☾ careful

Organized or Disorderly ?

☾ both

Would Rather Working or Relaxing ?

☾ non decided

Optimistic or Pessimistic ?

☾ optimistic

Honest or a Liar ?

☾ honest but has secrets

Would Rather Have Fame or Obscurity ?

☾ obscurity

Brave or Coward ?

☾ brave when needed

❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉

❝Let me help you with that.❞

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

A p p e a r a n c e

Hair

☾ long and white with a slight wave to it

Eyes

☾ a spooky white silver with long thick lashes

Skin

☾ very fair and light

Height

☾ 5 foot 9

Weight

☾ 245

Body Type

☾ athletic and well toned

Age Appearance

☾ early 30s late 20s

Scars / Wounds

☾ several but there faded all over her body

Tattoos

☾ none

Glasses

☾ no

Casual / Common Clothes

Formal Clothes

Party / Hangout Clothes

Sleep Wear / Pyjamas

❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉

❝Please tell me there's more cake.❞

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

A b i l i t i e s

General Abilities

☾ Emily is a grate martial arts fighter and developed her own style if fighting that makes her look like shes dancing. Shes grate with a whip and a long pole often using them in combat. Shes a master hamon user but mostly uses it to heal. When fighting with hamon she seams to be using electric currents of energy that runs threw every living thing. Its like her mode is lightning.

Strengths

☾ pillarman speed strength and super senses. Strong healing hamon and lightning energy hamon.

Weaknesses

☾ can't use her lightning energy hamon in water or when soaked due to the water being a conductor. Sunburns easily. Is mostly a pacifists preferring not to fight. Terrified of bugs. Doesn't heal as fast as full blooded pillarmen because she's half human.

❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉

❝Care to dance with danger?❞

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

C o m b a t & I n v e n t o r y

Fighting Style

☾ dancing marital arts style where she almost never stops moving.

Strategy

☾ confuse her enemy by constantly moving then strike when they least expect it or just directly strike with hamon

Inventory

☾ travels carrying a hikers backpack with her equipped with mostly basic survival gear like a tent sleeping bag or hammock and some food along with maps and compas. Always has some kind of book and a small flute called an ocarnia. Has a retractable long metal pole good for conducting her hamon and a rope whip. Often wears or has in her backpack a heavy metal suit for speed training.

Status

☾ she likes to live a peaceful life but will fight if the moment calls for it.

❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉

❝Can we all just get along?❞

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

S t a t s

Physical Strength

☾ 9/10

Mental Strength

☾ 9/10

Reflexes

☾ 9/10

Endurance

☾ 9/10

Speed

☾ 10/10

Technique

☾ 10/10

Cooperativeness

☾ 10/10

Self-Control

☾ 10/10

Intelligence

☾ 10/10

Stamina

☾ 9/10

❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉

❝All life is precious. Especially a short human life.❞

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

S t a n d /H a m o n I n f o r m a t i on

Hamon or Stand User ?

☾ hamon

Hamon Type

☾ indirect, direct attacks/ healing

Hamon Description

☾ emily is able to direct the flow of electric energy from her body or another living thing into electric lightning like attacks including punches and kicks and she can direct the electrical current threw her metal staff to deliver strong strikes at a distant as well as using her whip to do the same. In a last attack she can summon her final strength and shoot a bolt of energy from her hands. If she is near a good source of energy like in a city full if electricity she is pretty much never out of ammo. She prefers to heal with her hamon and as long as the wounds are not life threatening she can heal anything.

Limitations

☾ can not use her hamon in rain or when wet. If she uses to much of her own energy her body starts to shut down. If she heals to many people at one time she can get sick and weak.

Drawbacks

☾ she is a walking lightning rod and ends up burning a lot of clothing by being struck by lightning. Often ends up shorting out electronic devices by accident due to her high energy.

❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉

❝Dang it I short circuited another radio.❞

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

❝Stop hitting me with lightning nature!❞

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

F a m i l y & R e l a t i o n s h i p s

Family

Father

☾ deceased. Former hamon Indian chief

Mother

☾ deceased pillarwoman

Aunts / Uncles

☾ dead

Siblings / Cousins

☾ dead

Grandparents

☾ dead

Friends & Close Friends

☾ the speedwagon foundation and the joestars

Love Interests / Crushes

☾ Joseph joestar ,ceaser, karrs, esidisi, whamuu, Santana

Partners

☾ none

Enemies / Rivals

☾ bullies and basic bad guys

❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉

❝I wish I wasn't the only one of my kind.❞

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

B a c k g r o u n d & O v e r a l l

L i f e

Background / Backstory

Grew up peacefully at first with her mother teaching her to use her pillar strength and senses wisely. She had a hard time making friends when she was young because the kids were afraid of her. Even after she wondered away from her sleeping mother one morning and learned she was immune to the sun. Her father was a hamon student and found her playing with a puppy. He also saw flowers growing around her as a result of her hamon. He began to train her from then on and thought her to use hamon to heal as well as defend.

Teenage Years / Adolescence

☾ when she turned 13 her father had become a grate hamon teacher and healer in there tribe. He was in his late 50s but her and her mother aged slower than him. They both continued to train her and she became a hamon warrior when she turned 15. Her tribe accepted her and she soon had many friends. She fell in love but they were never to be together. There lives were just to different and he rejected her witch caused her to develop a fear of rejection and she decided never to fall in love again.

Adulthood

☾ As time passed on her father became chief of the tribe and she in turn became a princess but they did not really use that sort of tital. Emily was now well into her 30s and her father was very old. They both had heard of her mothers clan being attacked and wiped out by other rogue pillar men and that other hamon tribes were also being slaughtered. Fearing an attack emily's parents sent her away to train and learn more about her powers and herself but in reality they just wanted her to be safe. While she is away the rogue pillarmen attack killing everyone and her mother falls by there hands refusing to join them. By the time Emily returns 5 years later she finds the ruins of her home, her people nothing but corpses, and a crumbled statue of her mothers body witch turns to dust when she touches it. Emily morns for days and goes in search of revenge but never finds anything to tell her what happened.

Current Location

☾ Traveling the world (depends on role-play story)

Residence

☾ nomads don't live anywhere long

❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉

❝Guess the nomadic life suits me.❞

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

T r i v i a / E x t r a

☾ loves all animals

☾ has worked for police and mafia and yakiza

☾ has a fortune of her own hidden in secret locations all across the world

☾ is a simp for big muscles and nice butts

☾ lives spring and fall

☾ loves skinny dipping and hot springs

❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉

╭──────────.★..─╮

╰─..★.──────────╯

❝Lets just enjoy the jurney.❞

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

T h e m e S o n g ( s )

☾

❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉

❝Im just one big mystery.❞

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

C r e d i t s

Artwork / Faceclaim Credit

☾ none

Character Design Credit

☾ imvu creators

Sources Used

☾ imvu for character design

Misc info.

☾ Training outfit

Speed training armor

[purekiller]

˙    ☠️   profile .

BIRTH NAME :  bartemius crouch junior.

ALIAS  /  NICKNAME :  barty.

TITLES :  the kamikaze.

AGE :  19.

DATE  OF  BIRTH : 04/11/60.

PLACE OF BIRTH :  london, england.

BLOOD STATUS : pureblood.

RESIDENCE :  london.

EDUCATION :  graduated from hogwarts (slytherin, dueling club).

OCCUPATION :  professional socialite.

SIDED : death eaters.

BOARD.

˙    ☠️   personal details .

GENDER :   cis man.

SEXUALITY :  queer.

FACECLAIM :  evan mock.

TATTOOS :  the mark on his arm, a snake crawling through his spine.

PIERCINGS : nipple piercings, snake bites and an albert.

CLOTHING :  mostly punk-ish fashion. stays away from the usual robes of the wizarding world to 1) rebel and 2) blend in with the muggles.  

HAIR STYLE :  shaved head that he dyes every once in a while. right now it's pink, to bartemius crouch sr.'s horror. 

POSITIVE  TRAITS :  open-minded, extroverted, fun.

NEGATIVE TRAITS :  controling, vicious, elusive.

HOBBIES :  painting, especially portraits. carries a sketchbook with him at all times, enchanted so the paper never runs out. 

INSPIRATIONS :  my man hobbie brown, luke castellan, eddie munson (as cringy as that is) and jesper fahey. 

---- BIOGRAPHY  , i'll bite the hand that feeds me .

Bartemius "Barty" Crouch Junior, the high gem of the Crouch family, was born during a thunderstorm.

Outside of the walls of the manor the sky cried, poured acid down onto the poor little ants and growled with the terror of having to welcome into the Earth a little creature with cruel eyes and something really similar to… A tail? 

(It was later found that Bartemius had a very rare congenital anomaly. The tail was removed and Bartemius Sr. threw it out. Barty seemed to think the fact he couldn’t keep his tail messed him up for life.)

He made his way through childhood with a loving mother, dedicated father and a house full of tiny little house elves who obeyed his every babble. But, Bartemius had, well, behavioral problems.

For one, he kept setting fires around the yard. It started with insects burned under a magnifying glass, grew into more and more objects until he tried to set fire to his grandmother’s couch. It was then that his every move began to be watched. And Bartemius didn’t like that.

So he learned to disappear behind columns, to walk without making any sound. Perfected through the years, he became a tiny ghost, running without ever being seen, keeping secrets behind a mocking grin.

Being a spy is only fun when you’re eleven and bored. Once you turn fourteen and pops seems to be busy with way more than a secret cause, things get much more complicated.

It started with a feeling in his stomach, a sensation that told him his old man was spending way more time than necessary at the Ministry. It ended up with two families being taken care of by a single man, being hid by one man. Well, two, once Barty caught up.

And it was easy to use it against old man Bartemius. Gifts got more expensive, friends got to stay over for much more than a single weekend during the summer, the talks of the mark got dropped indefinitely. Control did Bartemius Jr. so good he almost looked like his dad under a certain light. 

But the thing about control is, once you have it you do anything to maintain it. It was worse than fame, worse than money. He needed it, he needed to have it over everything and anything. His friends, his schoolwork, the way socks were arranged. The way his father responded to him, the house elves. There was nothing he was able to let go of.

And as all titans, he was bound to fail.

His last year at school hit as a motherfucking forest fire. His father’s second family was found dead after a dark mark appeared in the sky, something Barty feared would happen sooner or later (Hopefully later than sooner). Then, as if one thread could undo everything he built, his friends were suddenly too involved with the Dark Lord to care about his new toys, new books, new personality. It wasn’t funny anymore, the world turned their eyes away from him.

All he wanted, all he longed for, he had. He was, officially, a ghost.

Daddy didn’t care once he got the mark. It didn’t matter anymore, their side had enough soldiers. He fought too hard, for too long, so much that no one moved once he gave in. So, there he was, at the bottom of the food chain, his name not mattering for shit.

He couldn’t take that.

It took a while, months of preparation, days and days of taking in every inch and making it a mile. It took him everything he had. But once he began to fly the sun didn’t even feel that hot.

The Dark Lord was especially impressed by the kamikaze they had stored in the back, one that was willing to go out and spread his word with the force of explosions around London that destroyed a small fraction of the Order’s headquarters. 

So, without anyone’s help, he was beginning to take what was his back. No help from Sr., no help from his friends from way back when.

Just a ghost, coming back from the dead, borderlines forgotten in a blaze of glory.

[kaytrawrites]

Clothing the Crowfather

Summary In which the Crowfather is born and clothed. Jack is paid, and Wilbur and Ranboo are there.

Notes Yes, I ripped the dialogue for the last half of this fic pretty much directly from the stream(s) The Crowfather was originally lored into existence. Hush.

Story

Phil leaned against the stone wall surrounding the balcony outside Tommy’s current office, listening to the young man, Ranboo, and Wilbur excitedly spitball names for Phil’s ‘Hero’ persona. They had been talking for quite a while, and while Phil had suggested that they decide later, Tommy was adamant that it needed to be decided now.

“Crow man,” Tommy suggested. At the word ‘crow’, Phil tensed. There was a reason he wore a cloak while he was walking around and tried to move quickly in the air while others were around. His pitch black wings were heavily discriminated against among the Elytrians. Being born with feathered wings wasn’t uncommon, heck. Phil’s amazing wife, Miss Trixtin, had beautiful soft brown feathered wings herself. But black wings were heavily discriminated against as most of the older folk thought that they brought curses. Most of the younger folk didn’t care, but the comments still left their scars.

“Crowfather.” Tommy stated firmly. “That sounds the best.”

“Whatever you decide, Tommy.” Phil replied.

“But what about his outfit?” Tommy continued. “As a hero, you need to protect your hero identity so that bad guys don’t go after your family!” The kid was getting really excited now.

“Not sure that would be an issue…” Phil started, his mind drifting to the sparring session he and Trixtin had done just yesterday. She was on par with his skills, combat wise, maybe a bit worse due to starting later in life in comparison. Well, she could easily take care of herself.

Tommy sighed. “Phil, please.”

Phil glanced between the exasperated Tommy and the excited Ranboo, and shook his head, smiling slightly. “Fine. Fine.” He sighed and pushed his cloak back off his wings and brought one forward so the pair could see. “What did you two think would look best?”

“Oh wow!” Ranboo exclaimed, his eyes going wide. “The rainbow across your feathers is beautiful!” Tommy nodded, his expression excited.

“Black!” Tommy exclaimed. “Uh, what highlight color though? Black can be kind of a vilinious color…”

Phil’s mind drifted to an old chest and the word slipped out. “Silver.”

“Yes! That’s it!” Tommy replied. “I’ll need to talk to some people about possible outfits and measurements.”

Phil pondered for a moment as Tommy and Ranboo went into another excited conversation about clothing. “I...I think I might have something at home that might work.”Phil interjected after letting the two babble for a few.

“Well, by all means!” Tommy replied, puffing up a bit. “We might get some inspiration from it.”

Phil nodded, and hopped lightly over the brick wall, spreading his wings and turning toward the house he and Trixtin shared. It didn’t take long and when he landed, Trixtin looked up from the project she was working on. “You’re home a bit early.” She smiled.

“Tommy and Ranboo waylaid me and dragged me into a little project they are working on.” Phil explained. “They want me to become a ‘hero’ for the community.” He sighed, and looked up at the storage containers on the second floor. “They decided to call my ‘hero persona’ the Crowfather.” He held up a hand, asking Trixtin to wait a moment. “They were insistent that I use an alias to protect you.”

Trixtin snorted. “Babe, I flipped you this morning. There is nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah. I know that, the boys know that, but they were enjoying their project so much that I didn’t want to protest.” Phil shrugged.

Trixtin smiled. “Alright. I understand. Do you want the old box?”

“Yeah. Thank you.” Phil replied, smiling in return.

Trixtin set down her project and ascended the ladder up to the storage. It didn’t take long for her to return with the box in her arms, her soft brown wings easily slowing her descent. She set it on the table and removed the lid. The black fabric and silvery metal within made Phil pause as he was reminded of old memories. He shook his head. The past was in the past, and today was a new chapter.

Trixtin lifted the first article of clothing from the top and held it up. The familiar wide brimmed hat and the black veil swooshed gently with her gentle movements. The silver armor was removed next, followed by the clothing and appropriate padding.

She helped Phil undress, and don the dark clothing. As he walked, the armored boots clacked menacingly across the wooden floor. He hesitated to don the hat just yet, turning it slightly in his hands.

“Want me to do your hair?” Trixtin asked. “For old time’s sake?”

“Sure.” Phil agreed. She brushed his hair back from his face and tied most of it into a tail in the back. The last time he wore this outfit, he had to use gel to keep his hair out of his face.

Phil carefully donned the hat, pushing the veil up so he could look Trixtin in the eye. “Thank you.” He leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. He let the veil fall, and stepped out of his house, spreading his wings. He took off with a powerful down-flap and soared toward the pub where the young pair were waiting.

He kicked out and landed on the balcony with a solidly metallic thud, his wings flaring down and out. This particular outfit did not have a cape to fully cover his wings, just a ridge of armor to protect and strengthen the bones.

“Holy shit!” Tommy exclaimed as Phil stood.

Silver gauntlets covered his hands and arms up to his elbows, and greaves covered his legs up to his knees. The shoes were quite cleverly designed so that they had thick short claws on the toes which provided additional ways to defend oneself as well as grip for balance. He had a single piece of shoulder armor, the other had been put back in the box, as the crest emblazoned on it would not be a good thing to flash around. Everywhere else was covered in pure black fabric hiding light but incredibly strong chain armor.

Phil removed the hat carefully and smiled at the gaping pair. “Well?”

“Holy shit! It’s awesome!” Tommy exclaimed. “It’s perfect!”

Philza smiled slightly. “Thanks mate.” He let out a sigh he didn’t realize he was holding, relieved that the boys didn’t have issues with the outfit.

A sharp knock on the door, “‘Ello?!”

“Shut up. Shut up.” Tommy hissed, opening the door slightly and squeezing out into the hall. “Hey! Hey Jack!” Tommy chirped, cheerily.

Wilbut phased into view, and rested a hand on Jack’s shoulder, making Jack jump. “What the f-”

“Sorry ‘bout that. Sorry about that. That was just the onsite security.” Tommy said, waving a hand to indicate that Wilbur should back off. “You’re not actually allowed to be here between the hours of…”

Wilbur squeezed Jack’s shoulder. “Oi! Ge’ off me!” Jack snapped, turning and forcefully brushing Wilbur’s hand off him.

Tommy cleared his throat. “You’re not allowed to be here…” Tommy tried to repeat, but Jack was completely distracted by Wilbur, who was phasing in and out as Jack tried to grab him.

“Stop!” Jack growled. “I’m gonna’ beat this ghost to death!”

“Oh, no no no,” Tommy stepped between Jack and Wilbur, who was sticking his tongue out at Jack with a childish grin. “Jack. What’s up man? What can we do for you?” Tommy asked, putting on a charming smile.

Jack sighed and looked toward Tommy’s office. “You have an office in the roof of me pub.” He stated, annoyed.

“This isn’t your pub,” Tommy denied.

“It’s to the side!” Ranboo chimed in from within the office.

“It’s not to the side, it’s in the roof!” Jack snapped back, his blaze rods spinning around him, indicating his agitation.

“Alright, I’ll tell you what, Jack.” Tommy raised his hand, placatingly. “Rather than paying rent through currency, I’ll pay rent through experiences.” Tommy grinned and continued speaking, cutting off the slightly concerned look that Jack gave him. “I’ll let you have a moment with the Crowfather.”

Jack gave Tommy a baffled look. “What is the Crowfather?” He asked.

Tommy started walking toward the door, “When you go in, don’t be-” He started.

“Tommy!” Wilbur interrupted. “This is a lucrative business opportunity. A moment with the Crowfather needs to be a selling point!”

Jack sighed. “I don’t know what that is!” He said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Hearing the idea, Tommy switched gears, the thought of income bringing a grin to his face. “Actually, J. What don't you pay me to have a moment with the Crowfather?” He offered.

“You live in my roof!” Jack snapped back.

Tommy nodded, unphased. “Okay. You give me - what’s the best thing you have on you right now?” He asked, cocking his head. “Any pennies, or buttons?”

Jack spread his arms apart, annoyed. “I have literally nothing!” Which was true. Jack had left his bag downstairs; he didn’t even have the apron he wore when he was behind the counter of the pub.

“Okay.” Tommy nodded. “That’s fine. You can pay me back later. Here’s what you do.” He walked over to the door, resting his hand on the handle. “You come in - and remember, it’s our pube.” He gave Jack a charming smile.

Jack stared at him blankly, opening and closing his mouth. Wilbur was stifling a giggle.

“You come in here, and we’ll give you a moment.” Tommy started. He took his hand off the door handle as a thought occurred to him. “You’ve heard the tales of the Crowfather, haven’t you?” He asked.

“What? No.” Jack said, shaking his head slightly.

TImmy grinned and walked toward one of the open balconies leading out of the roof. “Well, you see, Jack. He swooped among the lands and cherished us all.” He spread his arms apart grandly. “Did you know, he invented trees?”

“Oh, my god.” Phil chuckled, thankful the pair was out of hearing range.

“He’s like- He’s big.” Tommy stated, fluffing his feathers, a cheeky grin on his face. He turned back toward the office, placing his hand back on the handle. “Jack. We’ll give you a moment with the Crowfather, alright?”

Jack sighed, “What is the Crowfather?” He asked, exasperated. “I don’t know what that is!”

“Look. We’ll give you a moment with him and then you’ve gotta leave, cause we’re in the middle of, you know. The hero business.” Tommy stated.

“I own this building!” Jack said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “It’s my place of work.”

Wilbur phased through the door, a concerned expression on his face. “If Jack wants us out, you can take my old house.” He offered. “I don’t need it anymore.”

Jack shook his head. “No. He can stay here. I just want him to pany me for it.”

Tommy sighed. “Alright, I’ll give you,” he paused, thinking over everything in his bag.

“...moments with the Crowfather.” The muffled voice of Ranboo suggested from within the office.

“We’ll pay you via moments!” Tommy said, cheerfully.

“What is the Crowfather?!” Jack demanded. “Explain it to me!”

Tommy grinned, and swung the door open. He indicated to Jack to enter, which he did.

Phil had replaced his hat, once again garbed fully in black and silver. He had hopped up on the balcony railing, his clawed boots providing additional balance. He swallowed, took a breath, and spoke. “Caw.” He stated, his voice deep and resonating.

Jack’s eyes went wide beneath the colored lenses of his sunglasses. “Crowfather? Is that you?” He asked.

“It is I.” Phil, no. The Crowfather stated, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

This hero business seemed like fun.

[phoenixduelist]

@count-v-dracula

All the sudden silly-serious plot/thread ideas that hit me out of the nowhere:

⚔️ More of... whatever the fuck they are doing on the deck in that thread, because writing the end of that response still has me like 👁👄👁

🩸 Making a surprise visit to Lord Beckett in full Count & Countess getup to scare the everloving shit out of that little bastard. They are there to speak to the manager 🤣

⚔️ Vlad terrorizing the Vihar crew with his teleporting, walking through walls, though on the Vihar there is always a conveniently placed oar...

🩸 Them hunting Ottoman pirates. (Don't let me spiral into a history babble in a thread ideas post)

⚔️ If he can sense such thing, maybe tell her that she actually died once? (Been dead for 2-3 minutes, miraculously saved by Marcell's strength and nobody told her this)

🩸 Her absolutely giving 0 fucks that Vlad can snap her neck in a second and being completely unfazed, furthermore grinning like a maniac when he throws a tantrum. Although that grin can be wiped off real fast if her hands are in danger instead her life

⚔️ Him witnessing the...'dental surgery' when she loses a tooth in a fight and taking part of it by holding her jaw open while the gold solidifies & burns into the cavity-

🩸 Young duelist interactions!! I live for that concept that they briefly knew each other from her Hungarian Duelist years

⚔️ Follow up to that, him also making an appearance when she's crowned Queen

🩸 Witnessing a PTSD triggered episode which explains why her alias is indeed Devil.

⚔️ Interactions with the crew!!! Pest is unfazed, the rest have....various reactions 🤣

🩸 Vlad's reaction to her 'hair care routine', read if it's too long she will simply chop it off with her sword. And go back to whatever she was doing

⚔️.....Queen Rozália much later after death becomes the Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse, Providence; General Rozália the Second. That...would be an interesting meeting for all three of them XD

🩸 Personal space? Never heard of that.

[spideesenses]

U write about yours and your man’s sex? kinda goals😭

yeah🥺 him n i are long distance so i feel like it’s the only thing i can do bc i miss him sm

[lonelyspriter]

"The Waters of Disaster and i am, the WARRIOR!" - Updated hat and scarf for promotion of Knuckles Series.

"Knock, knock! What is this?! That's Knuckles and Tikal's daughter named Kelly."

The most fighting tomboy warrior and current guardian of the Master Emerald, one of Alex's friends.

Her persona - Tough with Buttercup's personality from PPG.

Year and birthplace: 10 years, Angel Island.

Alias: Knuckles the Girl (by Sonic), Knuckles (hero name), Knucks, Knux, Callie (by Mrs. Harukaze), The True Strongest Thing Alive, Guardian of the Master Emerald, Champy (by Pop), World's Master Treasure Hunter, Dear Daughter (by Knuckles, same catchphrase as Dr. Eggman).

Alignment - Good.

Likes - Same as Knuckles' like list, helping her parents' requests (although, she's annoyed for doing with Chao by Tikal's request but must helping), teachering Doremi (like Knuckles to Wade), her motorbike.

Dislikes - 8 some things of Knuckles' dislike list, Girly things, Some disgusting things.

Friends - Alex (best friend, teammate and rival like Sonic vs. Knuckles), Tom (best friend and teammate), Rooney (good friend on meditation), Zoe, Onpu (good friend), Katie (close friend), Hana, Momoko (friendly rival), Sonic (good friend and rival), Tails, Sticks (2nd friendly rival), Mighty (strongest friend), Shadow, Marle, Trip, Aiko (friendly rival), Hazuki, Rusty 2.0, Omega, Tania, Amitie, Ringo, Chris, Frances, Doremi (best friend), Pop, Mrs. Harukaze (Haruka), Classic Sonic and other Classic heroes, Zooey, Roy, Amy (close friend), Knuckles (father), Tikal (ghost, mother) †, Knuckles' father (grandfather) †, Pachacamac (ghost, godfather) †, Big with Froggy, Silver, Tangle, Espio, Vector, Charmy, Tails Nine (New Yoke City Counterpart).

Neutral & Frenemies - Dr. Robotnik, Sage, Dr. Done-It, Surge (arch-rival), Kit.

Enemies - Badniks, Dr. Eggman, Dr. Mindman, Heavy King, Metal Sonic, Rusty Rose (until being upgraded), Tails Nine, Scratch, Grounder, Coconuts, Decoe, Bocoe, Princess Bibin, Zavok, Mr. Harukaze (Keisuke), Mr. Dr. Eggman, Mr. Dr. Robotnik, Dr. Deep, Dr. Don't, Dr. Babble, Dr. Done-It (New Yoke City counterpart), Oyajide, Infinite, Nominatus, Retro, Beta, Scourge (arch-nemesis for stole Scourge's speed power and killed all of Destructix even his girlfriend) †, Charlie (victim, banished), Belinda (victim, banished), Rough, Tumble.

Voice - Children (Overall), Meritxell Ribera (Spanish).

[gloriabomfim]

Top 10 Joy's alias by Lilac:

Top 10 Joy's alias by Lilac: Giggly Grub Pink Bow Wonder Coocoo Cockroach Tiny Ticklish Tot Babbly Bug Babe Bow-tiful Buzzer Petite Peeker Lil' Laughter Larva Snuggle Snapper Joystick Jr.

[dimmed-lantern]

Tint the Oath.

The air hung heavy with meaning as Vuong’s words echoed through the room. “Hunger,” he said, “is the first tongue—the one we learn before we speak.” And how right he is. For I have known that emptiness too, an echo in my soul calling out to be filled. Yet what if another hunger lives within, one just as deep? A hunger for love, warmth, a hand to hold in the dark. It began that night at the dinner table—I shall tread softly, build bridges with words instead of walls under the alias of Romeo Lancelot.

While external forces may stir surface emotions, here in the stillness I have found my center. Respect is a given, kindness is my language. Within these pages, trivial questions are the sweetest love notes of mine: did sleep treat you kindly / did the aliens spare you and let you return to Earth / and how’s the universe treating you with its cloak? My adoration hasn’t reached its peak as your mug painted my lips, I had no wish to rush my meal—I want us both to eat well, to savor each silly pickup line. Music plays on even in silence, an imaginary soundtrack just for two, though my skill with strings remains imperfect, but at least I’ve tried. As for with you, I have finally found my missing piece and at long last, I am whole.

This pie I have baked for you with care offers itself now as sustenance for both body and soul. Each slice a reminder of the oath etched on my being. To protect you, even if it means peeling myself away slice by slice, like fruit parted by a careful blade—eager to be devoured willingly, mouthful by mouthful. To open your eyes to a new world you haven’t yet seen—where you shine brighter than a Van Gogh gallery—where you are seen and cherished even in babbling nonsense—and if loneliness creeps in, remember my ears waiting to hear your voice once more as your every word is a sweet burst upon my tongue, a feast I gladly devour.

“And there we are again in the middle of the night, dancing around the kitchen in the refrigerator light.” For now, I shall keep this letter short yet hopeful. My world stands unveiled before you—will you dare to enter?

[droningmachinations]

To Tell A Lie: A Droning Machinations Episode

Written By Joseph M.

My name is John Flint, and I am a 22 year old living in the city of Delaney, in the state of South Texas. There's another Delaney in the bordering state of North Texas, and that's where Michael Spear enters the fray.

Spears goes by the alias of Yvarg on a popular chatting application I use called Discord, and its that site where Yvarg asked me to help with an ongoing situation. There was a terrorist organization, a radical arms-dealing terrorist group called LEVIATHAN, and he and my other friends, whose aliases are coolguy80101 (Dylan Steirn) and antienjoys (Joseph Swaney) were preapring to head into a fight with them. I drove down and booked a motel near where they planned the fight was going to take place.

It was a dingy single room with a toilet in the corner that couldn't flush, and I was told that whichever housekeeper on staff that day would clean it while I was gone. The walls were sticky, cobwebbed and yellowed; and a tiny navy blue spider nestled quietly above my nose whenever I slept–including this time–and I discovered it this morning.

I shooed away the spider as I was eating breakfast, watching a fight between my friends and the LEVIATHAN thugs happening in alley not too far away from my room, on the fifth floor. I quickly ran downstairs with the only weapon I had, a butter knife. As I pushed a crowd of guests in the lobby away, their eyebrows and mouths tilted downward, and they exhaled with a gruff choir of snorts and grunts.

There was a squad of cop cars, sirens wailing and lights flashing as they pulled up next to me. One of the cops was familiar, a man named Officer Vant Cristoff. He ran up with an ebony-hilted pistol, approaching the perpetrators in the fight; these perpetrators included my seemingly delusional Discord friends, whom I had never seen in person until now, and had only seen images of online.

As I watched Joseph Swaney, they babbled drunkenly, they walked with a twisted left foot, and they threw their hands in the air with a care-free and cross-eyed smirk. It was as if surrendering themselves over to the authorities was supposed to be a lighthearted occasion, as if Joseph's maniacal behavior was supposed to be funny.

I had never seen such blatantly defeated admissions such as these, and I deduced all three of my friends' eccentric gestures to be the effect of extraneous circumstances. Michael was curling up into a ball on the floor, rolling back and forth, muddying his blond hair and getting gravel into its curls; Dylan was slapping Joseph in the face, spanking their neck with a flat palm, lifting Joseph up like a trophy for everyone to see and bodyslamming them onto the floor.

Even the shrewd Officer Cristoff–a man with years of work in law enforcement and a gilded badge to show for his clever and cunning personality–had a bewildered frown on his speckled and red-bearded lips. He adjusted his badge as he approached my wildly-scampering friends; it was embarassing for me to watch them smear their neatly ironed polos and shirts in mud knowing that the police officer knew I was close with them. He whipped out a pistol with the quickness of a python lashing at its prey, and called for Joseph to freeze, waking them, Dylan and Michael from their apparent trances.

He really had no intention to shoot anyone.

"What's going on?" asked Joseph.

"I don't know." I drew towards him, still wary of a remaining possibility: the pink elephants could return to him and he'd be back in a trance. "What do you think happened?" Unaware of his own frenzied mania just seconds ago, Joseph Swaney indulged me with such an expression of shock, a look silently pleading with me to sleuth about and seek out muddled truths.

And as Joseph came to his senses, he saw Officer Cristoff's handgun pointed to his face.

It became very clear what was happening; I saw cylindrical cannisters with wires sprawling out like the tentacles of a jellyfish littered across the alleyway, and there were words etched into the side of the barrels, scratches in the abrading metal surface.

There was a lid a few feet away from each cannister, and a label written onto each lid in jet black marker ink. Each container had a tensile steel spring that had been triggered by a wooden switch flipping down, like a nimble eel swirling up to snag a fish in the darkness. Combined with the cables, hooks, levers and gadgets entangled in the lacework of complex mechanisms dangling outside of the can, this indicated to me that something had triggered the mechanism, but I couldn't figure out what.

Curious, I inspected the contents of each can. There was a beeping coming from one of them, but I couldn't trace the exact container that emitted that obnoxious beeping, that noise that lingered in my ears and kept me up later that night.

As I moved from one receptacle to the next, the noise faltered; it reached a screechy high note, like a seasoned singer at an opera house. The noise was at its highest as I began inspecting the last cylinder; lodged into the can was a steel prism that fit in my palm.

It beeped constantly, like a phone always filling with notifications. I removed the device and examined it; Michael's, Dylan's and Joseph's voices interspersed with my quiet train of thought.

I ignored them and flipped the beeper onto its side, finding a gleaming neon-red light hidden on the side of the beeper, blinking quickly whenever they talked and slowly flickering out when they didn't speak.

The beeper didn't seem to do this with anyone else's voice. Therefore, I deduced that the buzzer was engineered to detect my friends' voices and trigger a spring, pop the lids off and cause the gas within the jerrycans to be released, a toxin whose properties induced their hysterical states.

Michael, Joseph and Dylan claimed to see apparitions of a winged celestial clad in golden habillements and wielding a rapier; a crowned man with a skin of black fuzz, a sparkly silver cape, ample black wings that shielded the subdued back street from the whirring street lamps whose intense glare lured moths and flies, and the radiant neon parties coming from inside noisy apartment buildings; and a youthful looking companion with a mischievous smirk and thicker aqua fur, wings with spear-pointed tips and pastel blue splotches, and generously cyan-tufted ears poking out from the back of his head.

In front of them both, as the three claimed, was a typhoon of white fur, making quick work of the LEVIATHAN terrorists.

Though the creatures were merely characters in stories turned into convincing hallucinations by jury rigged gas bombs, my three friends described their experienced with such astounding vividness, that tempted me to probe LEVIATHAN further and find the producer of the hallucinatory gas.

This led me to an abandoned shipment warehouse in Salem, Oregon.