#i like to think this as a form of possession

[scentedpeachlandcreator]

A deep dive into the subconscious mind :

Okay so I’ll be just explaining what I’ve read from the Book “The Power of the Subconscious Mind” by Joseph Murphy, this Book was Amazing, it had many success stories of people and many more.

If you want to read the whole thing of this book in the form of a PDF, well you will get it on this site.

The chapter of this post:

1. What is the subconscious mind?

2. What is the difference between the subconscious mind & the conscious mind?

3. How does the subconscious mind work?

4. What is the relation between the subconscious mind & the Law of assumption?

5. Success stories from the Book.

6. Answering some questions you might have.

Ⅰ. What is the subconscious mind?

The subconscious mind is the part of the brain that controls the aspect of your life 95% of the time. It's the most responsible part of your mind that controls your body, organs, heartbeat, and many more.

The subconscious mind isn’t logical, it’s completely blind and it doesn't argue, it just follows what you tell it to, what you believe so, it stores so many memories and information, and even the most bad ones that are stored deep beneath the mind.

“Your subconscious mind is like a huge memory bank. It permanently stores everything that ever happens to you, and its capacity is virtually unlimited.

By the time you reach the age of 21, you’ve already permanently stored more than one hundred times the contents of the entire Encyclopedia Britannica.

Under hypnosis, people can often remember, with perfect clarity, past events that happened many years before” from this site.

Ⅱ. What is the difference between the subconscious mind & the conscious mind?

The two-part of the brain have a Big difference between them, but they work in harmony — the conscious mind is what you are aware of, it is logical and rational, and with it you make decisions, solve, and think, and on the contrary of the subconscious mind which is illogical and irrational, it relies on the conscious mind, it does what you tell it to, let say the subconscious mind is like a servant working for a royal family, it just does what it tells it to, doesn’t argue, doesn’t have eyes, just obeys and start working, on the other hand, the conscious mind can be compared to the chief servant, overseeing and directing the actions of the subconscious mind and other faculties, the conscious mind’s role is to guide and protect the subconscious mind from harm.

Ⅲ. how does the subconscious mind work?

the subconscious works 24/7 it does not stop working, it’s responsible for your body's operation, it does not rest, it just keeps working until you die, it does work in mysterious ways, and nobody knows how, but it’s surely smart, it possesses an incredible intelligence, wisdom and many more than you can imagine.

an example by Joseph Murphy of how the subconscious mind works:

“You will perceive the main differences by the following illustrations: The conscious mind is like the navigator or captain at the bridge of a ship.

He directs the ship and signals orders to men in the engine room, who in turn control all the boilers, instruments, gauges, etc. The men in the engine room do not know where they are going; they follow orders. They would go on the rocks if the man on the bridge issued faulty or wrong instructions based on his findings with the compass, sextant, or other instruments. The men in the engine room obey him be-cause he is in charge and issues orders, which are automatically obeyed. Members of the crew do not talk back to the captain; they simply carry out orders.

The captain is the master of his ship, and his decrees are carried out. Likewise, your conscious mind is the captain and the master of your ship, which represents your body, environ-ment, and all your affairs. Your subconscious mind takes the orders you give it based upon what your conscious mind believes and accepts as true. When you repeatedly say to people, “I can’t afford it,” then your subconscious mind takes you at your word and sees to it that you will not be in a position to purchase what you want. As long as you persist in saying, “I can’t afford that car, that trip to Europe, that home, that fur coat or ermine wrap,” you can rest assured that your subconscious mind will follow your or-ders, and you will go through life experiencing the lack of all these things”.

“Your subconscious mind accepts what is impressed upon it or what you consciously believe. It does not reason things out like your conscious mind, and it does not argue with you contro-versially. Your subconscious mind is like the soil, which accepts any kind of seed, good or bad. Your thoughts are active and might be likened unto seeds. Negative, destructive thoughts continue to work negatively in your subconscious mind, and in due time will come forth into outer experience which corresponds with them.

Remember, your subconscious mind does not engage in proving whether your thoughts are good or bad, true or false, but it responds according to the nature of your thoughts or suggestions. For example, if you consciously assume something as true, even though it may be false, your subconscious mind will accept it as true and proceed to bring about results, which must neces-sarily follow, because you consciously assumed it to be true” by Joseph Murphy.

Ⅳ. what’s the relation between the subconscious mind & the Law of Assumption?

this is the most interesting part – the subconscious mind is the one responsible for bringing your manifestation/desire to fruition, BUT that requires you to change your mindset from “I can’t do this, I don’t deserve this, how am i supposed to have it” to “i can do this, I’m successful, I deserve my desires, I already have it”.

if you affirm that you won’t succeed then guess what? yeah duh you won’t, why? because you assumed so, you believed it, accepted it, then the subconscious mind started working on it, and it showed up in the 3d.

assumptions = reality.

Let me make you understand with an example:

let’s say you have an upcoming exam and you want to manifest good grades, so you study for the exam and affirm that you’ll have good grades.

you pass the exam and you wait for the results, when the teacher gives you your papers you see that you didn’t have a good grade, and your stupid self starts telling yourself “i knew it won’t work”, “i guess the law doesn’t work”, “why it didn’t work?” that THE BIGGEST STUPIDIEST MISTAKE YOU EVER MADE, don’t you understand that while you're saying this to yourself your subconscious is also listening? your subconscious doesn’t have eyes, it does not know what’s happening in the 3d.

so instead of seeing your bad grades on the paper and you start doubting yourself, take a deep breath and remind yourself of your power, and flip your thought against what your 3d is showing you saying “oh yeah i’m so happy! i did amazing this time on my exam! my parents are gonna be so proud of me!” that what persisting is, you continue being faithful and loyal to your assumption no matter what the 3d throw at you.

Ⅴ. success stories from the book:

number one:

• How he made his dream come true:

A movie actor told me that he had very little education, but he had a dream as a boy of becoming a successful movie actor. Out in the field mowing hay, driving the cows home, or even when milking them he said, “I would constantly imagine I saw my name in big lights at a large theatre. I kept this up for years until finally I ran away from home. I got extra jobs in the motion-picture field, and the day finally came when I saw my name in great, big lights as I did when I was a boy!” Then he added, “I know the power of sustained imagination to bring success.”

number two:

Last Christmas Eve a beautiful young university student looked at an attractive and rather expensive traveling bag in a store window. She was going home to Buffalo, New York, for the holidays. She was about to say, “I can’t afford that bag,” when she recalled something she had heard at one of my lec-tures which was, “Never finish a negative statement; reverse it immediately, and wonders will happen in your life.”

She said, “That bag is mine. It is for sale. I accept it men-tally, and my subconscious sees to it that I receive it.”

At eight o’clock Christmas Eve her fiancé presented her with a bag exactly the same as the one she had looked at and mentally identified herself with at ten o’clock the same morning. She had filled her mind with the thought of expectancy and released the whole thing to her deeper mind, which has the “know-how” of accomplishment.

This young girl, a student at the University of Southern California, said to me, “I didn’t have the money to buy that bag, but now I know where to find money and all the things I need, and that is in the treasure house of eternity within me.”

number three:

• How she restored her memory:

A woman, aged seventy-five, was in the habit of saying to herself, “I am losing my memory.” She reversed the procedure and practiced induced autosuggestion several times a day as follows: “My memory from today on is improving in every department. I shall always remember whatever I need to know at every moment of time and point of space. The impressions received will be clearer and more definite. I shall retain them automatically and with ease. Whatever I wish to recall will im-mediately present itself in the correct form in my mind. I am improving rapidly every day, and very soon my memory will be better than it has ever been before.” At the end of three weeks, her memory was back to normal, and she was delighted.

number four:

• How faith in your subconscious powers makes you whole:

A young man, who came to my lectures on the healing power of the subconscious mind, had severe eye trouble, which his doctor said necessitated an operation. He said to himself, “My subconscious made my eyes, and it can heal me.” Each night, as he went to sleep, he entered into a drowsy, meditative state, the condition akin to sleep. His attention was immobilized and focused on the eye doctor. He imagined the doctor was in front of him, and he plainly heard, or imagined he heard, the doctor saying to him, “A miracle has happened!” He heard this over and over again every night for perhaps five minutes or so before going to sleep. At the end of three weeks he again went to the ophthalmologist who had previously examined his eyes, and the physician said to this man, “This is a miracle!” What happened? This man impressed his subconscious mind using the doctor as an instrument or a means of convincing it or conveying the idea.

Through repetition, faith, and expect-ancy he impregnated his subconscious mind. His subconscious mind made his eye; within it was the perfect pattern, and imme-diately it proceeded to heal the eye. This is another example of how faith in the healing power of your subconscious can make you whole.

number five:

• His dream pharmacy became a reality:

Thirty years ago I knew a young pharmacist who was re-ceiving forty dollars a week plus commission on sales. “After twenty-five years,” he said to me, “I will get a pension and re-tire.”

I said to this young man, “Why don’t you own your own store? Get out of this place. Raise your sights! Have a dream for your children. Maybe your son wants to be a doctor; perhaps your daughter desires to be a great musician.”

His answer was that he had no money! He began to awaken to the fact that whatever he could conceive as true, he could give conception.

The first step toward his goal was his awakening to the powers of his subconscious mind, which I briefly elaborated on for his benefit. His second step was his realization that if he could succeed in conveying an idea to his subconscious mind, the latter would somehow bring it to pass.

He began to imagine that he was in his own store. He mentally arranged the bottles, dispensed prescriptions, and imagined several clerks in the store waiting on customers. He also visualized a big bank balance. Mentally he worked in that imaginary store. Like a good actor he lived the role. Act as though I am, and I will be. This pharmacist put himself whole-heartedly into the act, living, moving, and acting on the assump-tion that he owned the store.

The sequel was interesting. He was discharged from his position. He found new employment with a large chain store, became manager, and later on, district manager. He saved enough money in four years to provide a down payment on a drugstore of his own. He called it his “Dream Pharmacy.”

“It was,” he said, “exactly the store I saw in my imagina-tion.” He became a recognized success in his chosen field, and was happy doing what he loved to do.

Number six:

• Boy of sixteen years turns failure into success:

A young boy who was attending high school said to me, “I am getting very poor grades. My memory is failing. I do not know what is the matter.” I discovered that the only thing wrong with this boy was his attitude, which was one of indifference and resentment toward some of his teachers and fellow students. I taught him how to use his subconscious mind, and how to succeed in his studies.

He began to affirm certain truths several times a day particularly at night prior to sleep, and also in the morning after awakening. These are the best times to impregnate the subconscious mind.

He affirmed as follows: “I realize that my subconscious mind is a storehouse of memory. It retains everything I read and hear from my teachers. I have a perfect memory, and the infinite intelligence in my subconscious mind constantly reveals to me everything I need to know at all my examinations, whether written or oral. I radiate love and good will to all my teachers and fellow students. I sincerely wish for them success and all good things.”

This young man is now enjoying a greater freedom than he has ever known. He is now receiving all “A’s.” He constantly imagines the teachers and his mother congratulating him on his success in his studies.

Number seven:

• Scientists Use the Subconscious Mind:

Many scientists realize the true importance of the sub-conscious mind. Edison, Marconi, Kettering, Poincarè, Ein-stein, and many others have used the subconscious mind. It has given them the insight and the “know-how” for all their great achievements in modern science and industry. Research has shown that the ability to bring into action the subconscious power has determined the success of all the great scientific and research workers.

An instance of how a famous chemist, Friedrich von Stradonitz, used his subconscious mind to solve his problem is as follows: He had been working laboriously for a long time trying to rearrange the six carbon and the six hydrogen atoms of the benzine formula, and he was constantly perplexed and unable to solve the matter. Tired and exhausted, he turned the request over completely to his subconscious mind. Shortly after-ward, as he was about to board a London bus, his subconscious presented his conscious mind with a sudden flash of a snake biting its own tail and turning around like a pin wheel. This answer, from his subconscious mind, gave him the longsought answer of the circular rearrangement of the atoms that is known as the benzine ring.

Number eight:

• How a distinguished scientist brought forth his inventions:

Nikola Tesla was a brilliant electrical scientist who brought forth the most amazing innovations. When an idea for a new invention came into his mind, he would build it up in his imagina-tion, knowing that his subconscious mind would reconstruct and reveal to his conscious mind all the parts needed for its manufacture in concrete form. Through quietly contemplating every possible improvement, he spent no time in correcting defects, and was able to give the technicians the perfect product of his mind. He said, “Invariably, my device works as I imagined it should. In twenty years there has not been a single exception.

Number nine:

• How a famous scientist and physicist escaped from a Russian concentration camp:

Dr. Lothar von Blenk-Schmidt, a member of the Rocket Society and an outstanding research electronic engineer, gives the following condensed summary of how he used his subcon-scious mind to free himself from certain death at the hands of brutal guards in a Russian prison camp coal mine. He states as follows:

“I was a prisoner of war in a coal mine in Russia, and I saw men dying all around me in that prison compound. We were watched over by brutal guards, arrogant officers, and sharp, fast-thinking commissars. After a short medical checkup, a quota of coal was assigned to each person. My quota was three hundred pounds per day.

In case any man did not fill his quota, his small food ration was cut down, and in a short time he was resting in the cemetery.

“I started concentrating on my escape. I knew that my subconscious mind would somehow find a way. My home in Germany was destroyed, my family wiped out; all my friends and former associates were either killed in the war or were in concentration camps.

“I said to my subconscious mind, ‘I want to go to Los Angeles, and you will find the way.’ I had seen pictures of Los Angeles and I remembered some of the boulevards very well as well as some of the buildings.

“Every day and night I would imagine I was walking down Wilshire Boulevard with an American girl whom I met in Berlin prior to the war (she is now my wife). In my imagina-tion we would visit the stores, ride buses, and eat in the restau-rants. Every night I made it a special point to drive my imaginary American automobile up and down the boulevards of Los Angeles. I made all this vivid and real. These pictures in my mind were as real and as natural to me as one of the trees out-side the prison camp.

“Every morning the chief guard would count the prisoners as they were lined up. He would call out ‘one, two, three,’ etc., and when seventeen was called out, which was my number in sequence, I stepped aside. In the meantime, the guard was called away for a minute or so, and on his return he started by mistake on the next man as number seventeen. When the crew returned in the evening, the number of men was the same, and I was not missed, and the discovery would take a long time.

“I walked out of the camp undetected and kept walking for twentyfour hours, resting in a deserted town the next day. I was able to live by fishing and killing some wild life. I found coal trains going to Poland and traveled on them by night, until finally I reached Poland. With the help of friends, I made my way to Lucerne, Switzerland. “One evening at the Palace Hotel, Lucerne, I had a talk with a man and his wife from the United States of America. This man asked me if I would care to be a guest at his home in Santa Monica, California. I accepted, and when I arrived in Los Angeles, I found that their chauffeur drove me along Wilshire Boulevard and many other boulevards, which I had imagined, so vividly in the long months in the Russian coalmines. I recognized the buildings, which I had seen in my mind so often. It actually seemed as if I had been in Los Angeles before. I had reached my goal.

“I will never cease to marvel at the wonders of the sub-conscious mind. Truly, it has ways we know not of.”

Number ten:

• How archaeologists and paleontologists reconstruct ancient scenes :

These scientists know that their subconscious mind has a memory of everything that has ever transpired. As they study the ancient ruins and fossils, through their imaginative percep-tion, their subconscious mind aids them in reconstructing the ancient scenes. The dead past becomes alive and audible once more. Looking at these ancient temples and studying the pottery, statuary, tools, and household utensils of these ancient times, the scientist tells us of an age when there was no language. Communication was done by grunts, groans, and signs.

The keen concentration and disciplined imagination of the scientist awakens the latent powers of his subconscious mind enabling him to clothe the ancient temples with roofs, and surround them with gardens, pools, and fountains. The fossil remains are clothed with eyes, sinews, and muscles, and they again walk and talk. The past becomes the living present, and we find that in mind there is no time or space. Through disci-plined, controlled, and directed imagination,you can be a companion of the most scientific and inspired thinkers of all time.

Ⅵ. Answering some questions you might have:

Can i command my subconscious mind to induce me into the void state Aka "pure consciousness" ?

Yes you Can! You Can even tell it to bring you your desires, just Say "subconscious mind, i command you to induce me into my pure consciousness instead of sleeping".

I want to manifest my desire but i don't know how it will happen?

Don't worry, your subconscious will find any way to bring your desires, just relax and trust it.

Can i use my subconscious to bring me Ideas in writing/drawing/crafting?

Yes! Just tell it to, it may Come to you in a dream or in a flash of an idea.

Can i command my subconscious to make me successful or achieve something?

Yes you Can! You Can literally make your subconscious do anything you want, even bringing your desires.

Do i need to script or write in details what i want?

Well if you want to script in details because you want to, then feel free to do it! But you really don't need to, cause you're subconscious is smart and it is literally you so it knows what you want even when you don't mention it.

Do i need to list every single desire when i am in my pure consciousness?

No lol, you Can just visualize or just Say "i already have my dream life" or "i have my desired list".

Can i recall past memories that i don't remember?

Yes you Can, just tell your subconscious to make you remember them.

Do i really need to reprogramme my subconscious to shift or induce my pure awareness?

Well..i don't think so, that my belief, but it's not necessary, cause i think this is just a limiting belief and it's not true, it's all based on your assumptions, you don't need to reprogramme it, your subconscious is more than smart, it's incredible that it is the only part of the human that the scientist can't figured it out.

Things to remember:

Your subconscious mind is like a powerhouse, it restores many memories, informations, and many more.

Your subconscious mind is sooo smart and has an Infinite intelligence that you're not aware of.

Your subconscious mind start working on bringing your desires the moment you want it or affirm for it.

Your subconscious is blind, it just rely on you (it doesn't know what happening in the 3d).

You Can get answers to your problems through your subconscious mind.

Want Ideas? Don't know what to write for your novel or story? Don't know what to paint/draw? Just Ask your subconscious and it will surely give you the answer.

Want to meet your dream partner? Owning 3 mansion? Just affirm and persist and your subconscious will find a way to bring you your desires.

You Can recall past memories, Dreams, or your shifting experience by just asking your subconscious to make you remember them.

Final note: anyway, i Hope this post was hopeful for you all, the Book opened my eyes, i learned ALOT, and it was very helpful, the subconscious mind does work in mysterious ways and it is just incredible, and i Hope i cleared some limiting beliefs you had about the subconscious mind, i really recommend Reading the Book or the pdf, you will thank me later 😉.

Xoxo, Eli

[yandereunsolved]

Yandere Daryl Dixon w/ immune reader— 'we're all infected, why does it matter if you're the cure?'

Yandere Daryl saw your scraggly ass aimlessly wandering through the abandoned pharmacy he needed to raid. Walkers, five of em', and you fought them off bare fisted. Pretty badass, and fucking stupid, if Daryl has anything to say about it. You're bleeding from your neck more than any living person should.

A bite. You're bit.

No wonder you could care less if one of the rotting corpses bites on ya.

He wants to put you down like he should. He lines up his crossbow with your head, and like a deer caught in headlights, you flee.

Goddammit all.

Shouldn't matter anyway. You'll become another walker. At the most you got some gauze.

It had to be months again before he saw you on another run. There you are—banged up and just a lil more than skin n' bones, but there you are alive none the less.

Yandere Daryl admits to himself that it's the first time he's been intrigued by someone in a long while. Maybe that's why he's insisted on going on runs by himself these past few months. Maybe just maybe deep down he wanted to see you again.

It isn't hard to simply surprise you from behind and disarm you. He knocks you out and lowers you to the sidewalk. He doesn't see any walkers near, so he can check your wound out easy.

You still have gauze over it, but it has long since needed a change. It's drenched in fresh blood and covered in old. He unwraps it to see the damn bite. He can't tell if it looks better or worse now.

"Poor sap, what am I gonna do with you? Whats good a cure if there's no docs, only greedy men in this world." He tsks.

Yandere Daryl picks you up and carries you back to the group. He wraps a slightly torn shawl around your neck. It's one he found near the store you collapsed at. There's a reason you have been out here all these months.

You could'a just given up and died.

You could'a found a group.

Instead you found him again.

"Must've been fate, huh?" He chuckles humorlessly.

The way you looked at him. You're runnin' from somethin'. He just has to figure out what.

Yandere Daryl decides you're his to take care of. When he carries you into Alexandria, he doesn't let anyone else get their hands on you. He doesn't answer anyone's questions while he walks in and towards his house. He locks himself in and tells anyone that comes by to piss off.

Screw the rules and whatever the fuck.

You're a mystery that he has to solve.

So he grabs a change of clothes and some food for you. He plops them down on the table and sits in the opposite chair.

He doesn't mind waitin' for a while. It gives him plenty o' time to think. Somethin' in him is just stirrin'. He just can't decide what.

Yandere Daryl calms you down after you wake up. You can barely form words on those pretty lips and tongue of yours. Naturally, you question him and his motives. You're defensive and don't elaborate at first.

It takes just a handful of threats about exposing you and spreading around the fact there is an immune person to unravel your need for secrecy.

Somewhat.

You only tell him that you're being hunted by a group you were once with.

"Mind elaborating, hun?" Daryl draws out while looking over your figure for what feels like the thousandth time.

"I'll tell you—but I swear to God if you use this against me I'll stab you through the head a dozen times over."

"Fair nuff."

"They would—If you get bit and are injected with... well, enough of my blood then it acts as a cure..."

They fuckin' what?

Yandere Daryl vouches for you, and you end up in Alexandria. You get no ifs, ands, or buts about it. They assign you to his house. Daryl definitely convinced Rick that since you're a newcomer and you trust him more, he could keep a watchful eye on you. It totally isn't because there's this strange all possessing feeling that keeps latching onto his heart when you're around.

He keeps your secret safe n' sound. He manages to steal enough makeup from rundown stores to keep your healing bite covered up. He makes sure you are eating and getting healthier. He checks up on you before and after he gets done with a run. Hell, he reminds you of shit he forgets about all the time.

This does extend to him killing people to keep you safe. They looked at you wrong. Maybe one of the residents feels suspicious about you. They may even have confronted Daryl and questioned him. Oh, well. Just another one pushed to the biters.

Daryl has never had a strict moral compass. So he doesn't feel bad about murdering people who he is supposed to consider his neighbors.

Of course, those who came with him to Alexandria get the privilege of questionin' you just a bit. He's quick to shut that shit down, though.

Carol is the only one who is close enough to knowing that you are immune. She knows that Daryl has something more than platonic towards you. She also knows that you were injured with something that looked suspiciously like a walker bite mark when Daryl first lugged you in. (She snuck in and looked through your scarf while Daryl wasn't aware.)

She just isn't looking for trouble. She doesn't want to believe it, as it doesn't seem plausible. There have been too many false hopes from the CDC to Eugene.

So she let's Daryl foster his feelings towards you while watching out for you both. If Daryl ever oversteps a boundary with you, Carol will be there to knock him up side the head, call him a stupid redneck, and threaten him in the most motherly way possible. 

Yandere Daryl never saw you have so much terror in the eyes as the day he mentioned The Saviors. It clicked in his mind immediately. He has only felt that rage one other time in his life: when he learned Meryl had been handcuffed to the roof and left for dead.

He didn't think, but he acted. He held you and refused to let go. It's just so fuckin' unfair. He loses everyone that has a semblance of importance to him. Not you. Not this time.

His only thought was that he was going to burn every one of those fuckers to the ground—innocent or not.

[novaursa]

The Gods Are Cruel (and so is he)

- Summary: Maegor always thought of you. Even when you were convinced he had forgotten you.

- Paring: niece!reader/Maegor I Targaryen

- Note: This story captures Maegor's inner struggle and events before Fire and Blood.

- Rating: Explicit 18+ (just to be safe)

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

For as long as Maegor can remember, you have been the one thing denied to him. He’s conquered kingdoms, brought men to their knees, and ruled with the iron will of a dragon. But he cannot have you. His own father, King Aegon, forbade it. “She’s your niece, Maegor. There are limits, even for us.” As if the blood of the dragon were not meant to twist and coil upon itself, strengthening the line.

You’re the second-born daughter of Aenys, the weakling king who, even now, sits the Iron Throne in pitiful splendor. His half-brother’s mewling reign grates on Maegor’s nerves, but it’s the distance between you that fuels his rage. You’re imprisoned on Dragonstone, hidden away like a relic too precious to behold. And for what? To preserve your innocence? To keep you untouched by his flame?

His hand tightens around Blackfyre’s hilt as he recalls the way you looked at him, the first time your eyes truly met. You were but a girl then, your hair falling in soft waves of silver down your back, your eyes wide with awe and fear. A look that has haunted him ever since, seeping into his dreams, twisting his desires into something darker, more dangerous. He dreams of you, night after night, your body beneath his, your mouth forming his name like a prayer. You, the one thing he cannot have, the one thing he would raze cities to possess.

And yet, you are kept from him. Aenys has you guarded like a treasure, a pawn in his political games. The gods themselves conspire against him, placing you always just out of reach. He has seen you only in glimpses now, from across the court or from the back of his dragon, Balerion, circling above Dragonstone like an unholy sentinel.

What do you think of him? He wonders, in the quiet of his chambers, when even the echoes of war fall silent. Do you fear him, as the rest do? Or do you feel it too—the pull between you, the force that binds your fates as surely as dragonfire and blood?

His first wife, Ceryse, lies cold and untouched in his bed, her barren womb a constant reminder of the child he was never meant to sire with her. He took her as duty demanded, but his heart—and his loins—have always belonged to you. A woman he could mold, could teach, could keep. In his darkest thoughts, he imagines how your skin would feel under his hands, how your breath would catch as he whispered your name. Y/N.

Does your heart beat faster when you think of him? Do you lie awake at night, wondering if he’s thinking of you, too? You must. You have to. Because if you don’t, what is left for him? What can satiate this unquenchable thirst that rages through him, consuming him like wildfire?

The gods mock him with every breath you take beyond his reach. They have shackled him to a woman who cannot bear him heirs, as if to deny him the legacy he was born to create. They have put you on Dragonstone, behind walls and guards and duty, as if they think any of that could hold him back forever. But he will have you. His father’s wishes, Aenys’ weakness, the gods themselves—none of it matters. You belong to him.

In his mind, he sees the two of you, alone in the Dragonmont, the heat of the beasts around you only heightening the fever that pulses through his veins. He would take you there, make you his in every way, his hands on your skin, your nails in his back. The thought is almost unbearable in its intensity. But it is only a dream, a hollow mockery of what he craves.

He remembers the song you played once, in the Red Keep, your fingers dancing over the strings of a harp. It was a haunting melody, something about love and death entwined, the lyrics slipping from your lips like smoke. It was not for him—you hadn’t even known he was there—but he felt the words like a dagger in his chest. The horror of his love. A love that destroys, that devours. And yet, he would have it no other way.

You are the one thing that could calm his rage, and the one thing that stokes it to an inferno. He could burn the world for you, if it meant seeing you by his side, wearing his crown, carrying his children. He would destroy anyone who stands in his way, even the gods themselves. Because you are his, and he is yours, no matter how high the walls they build between you.

The gods are cruel. But so is he. And he is patient. For now.

But not forever.

Exile is a bitter draught, and Maegor tastes its poison on his tongue every day. Here, across the Narrow Sea, he is surrounded by false smiles and sharper knives, an unwelcome guest in a land that does not know the fire of dragons. He is supposed to be broken, he thinks. This was Aenys' intent—to crush his spirit, to strip him of power and keep him from you. It should have worked.

But Maegor is not so easily broken.

Every day he is here, he feels you slipping further away, like water through his fingers. Every day, the distance grows, a chasm that he fears even a dragon’s wings could not cross. You must think him weak now, to have been cast aside, to have failed in taking what is rightfully his. Do you believe the stories? That he is a monster, a madman, unworthy of the blood in his veins?

He paces the halls of this foreign stronghold, his mind churning with thoughts of you, of the night they took you from him. He had almost had you, his hand outstretched, your name a growl on his lips, when Aenys’ guards pulled you away, your eyes wide with something he cannot name. Fear? Betrayal? Desire?

Aenys had raged at him, his voice trembling with a fury Maegor had never thought his spineless brother capable of. “You will not touch her! Do you hear me, brother? I will not let you taint her with your madness!” As if your purity were some fragile thing, as if you were not a dragon yourself, with fire in your blood.

His exile was swift, the king’s command carried out by his lapdog lords who dared not look Maegor in the eye as they escorted him to the ship, bound for a land that does not know him. Aenys spoke of protecting you, of preserving the fragile peace between the Crown and the Faith. He was terrified of another rebellion, afraid that Maegor’s obsession with you would shatter what little stability he had managed to cling to. The Faith would rise against such a union, scream of abomination and blasphemy, and the weak-willed sheep of Westeros would follow.

And so, Maegor was sent away like a common criminal, the dragon without his fire, the beast without his prey.

But what they do not understand, what even you perhaps cannot see, is that this does not break him. No, this only feeds the flames, stokes the hunger that gnaws at him day and night. In his solitude, he thinks of you, of the way your lips parted when you spoke his name, the tremor in your voice as you told him to stop. And beneath that tremor, beneath the fear, he heard something else—something that made his blood burn and his pulse quicken.

You want him. He knows it, has seen it in your eyes, in the way you cannot help but look at him when you think no one is watching. It is a look he has seen before, in women who knew the danger of wanting a man like him, who knew the risk and were drawn to it all the same. But you—you are not like them. You are his niece, his kin, and that only makes the desire more potent, more twisted.

It is as if the gods themselves crafted you to tempt him, to drive him to madness. They dangle you before him, a prize he cannot claim, and laugh as he claws at the edges of sanity, his mind unraveling with every thought of you. Y/N, the name a whisper on his lips as he dreams, a curse and a prayer all at once. He imagines you as you must be now, cloistered away on Dragonstone, your beauty kept hidden from the world, your spirit shackled by duty and fear.

What do you think of him now, your would-be captor, your would-be king? Do you despise him for his failure, for letting them take him from you? Or do you still dream of him, as he dreams of you, your hands reaching out in the darkness, your voice calling him back across the sea? He would come for you, if he could. He would set fire to this whole wretched land if it meant seeing you again, holding you, tasting the lips that have haunted him for so long.

But no, he is here, caged by exile, by duty, by the very blood that runs through his veins. Aenys thinks this will keep him at bay, that distance and shame will cool his fire. A fool’s hope. Every night, Maegor’s dreams grow darker, his thoughts more twisted, until he no longer knows where desire ends and madness begins.

He thinks of what he would do, if you were here now. How he would take you in his arms, heedless of your protests, your pleas. You would fight him, at first—he knows you would. But he would not stop. He would crush every barrier, break every rule that the world has placed between you, until there is nothing left but the two of you, entwined in a knot of blood and fire and desire. He would teach you what it means to be his, to be bound to him in a way that no one, not Aenys, not the gods themselves, could sever.

And would you love him, then? Would you finally see him for what he is, for what he could be to you? Or would you still fear him, still see him as the monster they have all made him out to be? It does not matter, he tells himself. Love, hate—they are two sides of the same coin, both burning with the same intensity. And he would have either, or both, if it meant having you.

He will not stay here forever. This exile is a cage of straw, and he is a dragon. One day, he will break free, and when he does, he will come for you. No more half-measures, no more hesitant glances and whispered promises. He will take you, as he was meant to, as he was born to. And if the world burns for it, so be it.

The gods think they can keep him from you. But he will show them the folly of trying to chain a dragon. And when he does, he will take back what is his, with fire and blood.

The wine in Pentos is bitter and thin, a poor substitute for the strong, dark vintages of home. Maegor swirls the goblet, his gaze unfocused, the liquid rippling like the storm inside him. He’s been here for what feels like years, a dragon caged, his wings clipped. Exile is a wound that festers, seeping poison into his thoughts, breeding resentment, rage—and longing. Always longing.

He imagines you on Dragonstone, your days spent looking out over the sea, wondering if he’s forgotten you. Do you think him weak for not returning, for letting Aenys and his lapdogs banish him so easily? The thought of your disappointment, your disdain, cuts deeper than any blade. He should be there, should have fought harder, should have…

The door to his chambers bursts open, and his hand flies to Blackfyre’s hilt, the dark thoughts scattering like smoke. But it is no assassin or enemy lord. It is Visenya, his mother, sweeping in like a tempest, her eyes alight with a fire he hasn’t seen in years. For a moment, he thinks he is dreaming. Visenya, the indomitable, the iron queen who shaped him, forged him in the heat of her will and her ambition. The only one who has ever understood him, who has ever truly known him.

“Mother,” he breathes, his voice rough from disuse.

She crosses the room in a few swift steps, her presence as commanding as ever. There is no preamble, no softening of the words that follow. “Aenys is dead.”

The goblet slips from his fingers, clattering to the floor, the wine spilling in a dark pool at his feet. Dead. The weakling king, the half-brother who took everything from him, who caged him in this foreign land and kept you locked away. Dead.

“How?” he asks, his voice a low growl, his mind reeling. This changes everything. The iron bonds of exile shatter in an instant, and all the bitterness, all the rage that has been festering in his heart explodes like wildfire.

“His own weakness killed him,” Visenya says, her lip curling in disdain. “The Faith rose against him, the realm crumbled around him, and he could not hold it together. He was never fit to rule. He left the Seven Kingdoms in chaos.”

And you. What did he leave you with? A kingdom in ruins, a throne contested, and you still locked away, still untouched, still denied to him. Maegor’s blood boils at the thought of it, at the thought of you alone on that bleak island, your beauty hidden from the world, your spirit shackled by a man too weak to protect what was his.

“He is gone,” Visenya continues, her voice hard as steel. “The throne is yours, Maegor. But you must act. The lords will not sit idle; they will scheme and plot and raise their banners for Aenys’ wretched brood. You must return, and you must take what is rightfully yours.”

The throne. The Iron Throne, forged by fire and blood, by the will of their house. But more than that—more than crowns and kingdoms and power—there is you. The promise of you, the dream that has tormented him in the long, empty nights of exile. He sees it all, now, with a clarity that almost blinds him. Aenys is dead, the gods have finally relented, and the path to you is clear.

He rises from his chair, his eyes fixed on Visenya’s face. “And her?” He does not need to speak your name; they both know who he means.

Visenya’s eyes gleam, a predatory smile curling her lips. “You will have her, as it should have been from the start. She is your right, your reward. No one will keep her from you now, not the Faith, not the lords, not even the gods. You will take the throne, and you will take her.”

The words are like a balm, soothing the raw wound of exile, of longing. He sees it now, the vision of what could be, what will be: you, by his side, crowned in Valyrian steel and dragon’s flame, the blood of your enemies soaking the earth at your feet. His queen. His wife. The one thing denied to him, now within his grasp.

Aenys is dead, and with him, the last barrier between Maegor and the life he was meant to have. He will return, he will seize the throne, and he will take you. The thought of it fills him with a fierce, terrible joy. He imagines the look on your face when he storms Dragonstone, when he bursts into your chambers, his eyes wild with the need that has driven him mad for so long. You will fight him, at first, as you must. But he will not be denied. He will make you see, make you understand that you were always his, from the moment you were born.

He thinks of the song you played that day in the Red Keep, the haunting melody that still echoes in his mind. There is horror in our love, the words sang, and yes, there is. There is darkness, and fire, and blood. But there is also something deeper, something that binds you to him in ways you cannot yet fathom. He will show you, when you are his, what it means to love a dragon, to be consumed by the flame and not be burned.

He looks at Visenya, his heart hammering in his chest. “We go to Westeros. We take the throne, and I take her.”

She nods, the fierce pride in her eyes a reflection of his own. “Yes, my son. You will have it all.”

The gods have relented, have finally turned their faces from him and given him what he has craved for so long. The throne, the power, and you. His beautiful, stubborn, untouchable Y/N. No more dreams, no more whispered prayers to uncaring gods. This is destiny, and it will not be denied.

He is coming for you, and nothing—not lords, not priests, not the very heavens themselves—will stop him. You will be his, as you were always meant to be. And if there is horror in it, then let there be horror. Let the world tremble before the fire of his love.

Because he is Maegor, son of Visenya, true heir of Aegon the Conqueror. And he will have what is his.

[coffee-kitty4090]

DC What if??

In this alternated universe, what if MAZAHS was a form William (Billy) Batson could be able to transform into?? Not just a form that belongs to Alexander (Lex) Luther from Earth Three. Who is that universe SHAZAM counterpart, all thanks to the Power of MAZAHS.

However, I’ll be twisting a few things to make this work.

Firstly, Billy Batson will still be able to transform into SHAZAM, but MAZAHS is a secondary transformation he can undergo. This allows Billy to possess two immensely powerful and distinct forms, and each is capable of tapping into different facets of power, either magically or godly. Only having to utter the magical word, either SHAZAM or MAZAHS, for their respective transformations.

Secondly, these forms were either gifted or forced upon to by the magical Wizard from a rock.

Originally in this universe, the Wizard was going to gift two people, one for each role. One of those chosen individuals will have the title and powers of SHAZAM, the Champion of the Gods (who are the same). Then the other chosen individual will have the title and powers of MAZAHS, the Champion of Magic.

However, the Wizard hadn’t much time left since he was already pretty old. So, he gave Billy both of the titles and powers, because one, Billy passed the test, and two, he couldn’t find another champion. Then like most mentors (if you want to call him that), the Wizard then shortly died after transferring the titles and responsibilities over to Billy, with a brief explanation for how they work.

Thirdly, I made it so that SHAZAM and MAZAHS are each other opposites (since their names are literally the same but backwards). I made them to be from the same coin, but each with their own side. Certain things about them are the same, yet they’re not, and have their own differences.

Fourthly, SHAZAM is fundamentally the same in this universe, both in appearance and personality wise, while I have changed MAZAHS entirely. Because it’s not Alexander Luther who is in this form, it’s Billy Batson.

As MAZAHS, Billy will retain his true appearance that, by magic, is in a way altered to be less recognizable. And because I can, the outfit is more child-like and arcane, reflecting his unparalleled command over magic. Yet, in this form is still similar to SHAZAM’s in terms of colours, and their iconic lighting symbol.

I also have it that SHAZAM embodies Billy’s ambitions, mirroring the qualities that he sees from his deceased father, CC Batson, as well as other heroes. SHAZAM brings forth a peaceful personality, aligning with Billy’s innate kindness and what he thinks a hero is and should be. On the flip side, MAZAHS represents the reverse. MAZAHS embodies Billy’s natural personality, complete with a mischievous nature. Like SHAZAM, MAZAHS is still Billy, but he displays and exudes a more feral and untamed demeanor, acting more like a trickster.

Fifthly, I think that their powers and skills have been divided, yet not.

I have it that SHAZAM does still possess proficiencies for using magic. They’re, however, not anywhere near the same level as MAZAHS, whose mastery over magic is unparalleled. Similarly, the same applies to MAZAHS, who also acquired and connected to the powers of the Gods, but not to the extent of SHAZAM.

I think of it being split around 20/80 in terms of how Magically or Godly their abilities and roles are.

Sixthly, I want and need miscommunication.

SHAZAM is known and written about in a lot of cultures in the DC universes, but now that there’s also a MAZAHS in this universe. I think that SHAZAM and MAZAHS would be confused as the same being and there, because when they were spoken or written about, their names are interchangeable.

It either because, neither of them would be around each other outside. Or because there have been many individuals that have been gifted those titles. It also plays in with that now they are the same being. So, that is where the title SHAZAM, the Champion of Magic, probably comes from.

Finally, I think that Billy would likely stick to only one form. He uses SHAZAM’s form the most (obviously), and only tends to use the MAZAHS form if it’s needed. Reserving it for situations that demand a different kind of and an immense magical prowess. Where SHAZAM cannot win with brute force.

It's mainly because he doesn't want to be seen and treated like a kid, or because SHAZAM and amazing muscles.

I haven't thought much about this idea, but I thinks a fun concept.

[sgiandubh]

Dear Plagiarism Anon

You wrote and I immediately blocked you (this #silly game must end at some point, don't you think?):

You sound suspiciously the same as the three other Anons sent to me over this last week and I think I know who the fuck you are, darling.

You also know very well that, at this point in time, there are no more neutrals in this fandom. Playing Switzerland in Gaza only suits tone-deaf R2D2 Marple and her hypocrite minions - it has never been my cup of tea. And let common sense be the judge of my supposed irrelevance, when I see you pouncing on my inbox like the deranged troll you are, each and every time I am posting something.

I hope you do have a family, too: mine is a wonderful bunch of people I have not seen in almost six years. I intend to compensate this shameful situation before I will have to leave them again for a while. I also think it is absolutely clear I am not working for you and as such, not bound to write every single day or disclose any content in my possession.

I have never plagiarized anyone, in my entire life. I was, in turn, plagiarized myself, by a couple of you guys across the street. Imitation being the best form of (questionable) flattery, it amused me at first, until it didn't. Is this your latest theory on me? Pity is probably the best word to describe my reaction.

Grammar and vocabulary policing responds to your mean allegations about shippers being stupid and unable to read, write or speak proper English. I have explained that hundreds of times. You can do better, too, and prove what the fuck you said. But you won't, because this is not how this idiotic game works, is it?

[maleyanderecafe]

Is it wrong wanting to have someone to love you the same way a yandere would? Or is it just insecurity? Idk

If you want the short silly answer, no, not really. You can imagine anything you want without repercussion. I can imagine a giant cat dog creature as a pet if I wanted to to make me happy. Sky is the limit. Also this is a yandere blog, so I imagine most if not all of the people here have wanted that in some way or another.

If you want the more long winded analysis answer. Also no. I've heard somewhere that yanderes fulfill the Maslow Hierarchy of needs (though this could have been a meme, who really knows). Which are from bottom to top- physiological needs (so basic needs like food, shelter, clothes etc), safety and security (health, stability, safety), love and belonging (trust, intimacy, friendship), self-esteem (worth, dignity, independence) and self actualization (personal desires, goals, etc). Yanderes can pretty much fulfill most of these needs, so basic needs like food and clothes, security (they can kill for you), love and belonging (because they love you no matter what), and self-esteem (yanderes are very good at encouragement). The last two are more iffy since they kind of focus more on the person's internal fulfillment, but they do match up with a lot of the needs on this pyramid that they would theoretically provide for.

For a lot of people too, the idea of being loved unconditionally is something that they do not have in life (due to possibly abusive/neglectful parents, socially not being accepted, feelings of isolation) which I'm sure most of the people reading this have some sort of issue like that. It can also be a sort of kink thing since a lot of people who do like yanderes tend to like a more protective, gentle figure and more possessive lover. It also can be a form of escapism from the current world we have now, as it can be very difficult with everything going on. It could very likely be some sort of insecurity, but it can also be something else as well. It's hard to say because I can't read people's minds or know everything about their lives.

But no, I think it is actually pretty common for people to want to have a yandere to take care of all the issues they may have in their life and there's nothing wrong with that.

[mundaneblue]

Alien Stage Theory time!!

With Round 7 just around the corner, I felt it fitting to look back on my theories I've gathered so far and very heavily believe in. But my most CRUCIAL one that I always feel like talking about is:

Ivan meant for both him and Till to die in Round 6.

So I am of the opinion that Ivan did NOT plan to do the whole sacrifice at all.

It was spontaneous.

And I have several reasons to back this theory up.

So we all know that ever since Ivan and Till were kids, Ivan had been obsessed with the idea of them escaping together.

He knew Till valued “freedom” and because he did, Ivan started to value it too. But never alone. Only with Till.

Since Ivan went back to Anakt instead of escaping after Till did the same because of the fear of leaving Mizi.

Even in the scene where Ivan finds Till passed out in around 6, he looks helpless, and cradles his face in a “Dont worry, it’ll all end soon” kind of way.

So when Till stops singing and Ivan approaches him to kiss, the kiss was NOT planned.

Now this was the factor that surprised everyone. Even Unsha. It was so unexpected that he wished he knew what Ivan was thinking, but that’s the thing.

Ivan WASNT thinking.

Even Ivan himself was shocked at what he was doing since he had no control over his actions at that moment at all.

And this correlates to ivan's eccentric behaviour. As we know that ever since he was a child, he never really felt like he fit in with his fellow peers. This is very interesting to me as in Black Sorrow we are shown this picture of Ivan being very uninterested in spending time with the kids in his class. He has this mundane look of unamusement.

But as we look at more alien stage content, we see that Ivan was actually one of the most social in his class. Everyone admired him.

This shows that the rounds/videos don't necessarily mean what was infact happening but what the characters themselves felt.

This is also why I believe Ivan and Till were way more closer than what Ivan painted in his rounds. He just never felt the same love from Till, hence his constant inner mantra of wanting Till to look at him.

Now we've gotten that clear!

The main thing I want to deliver is that Ivan is an unreliable narrator. And he doesn't know how to handle his feelings in a methodical way. He has this distortive, almost possessive view when it comes to love and honestly that, to me, is what makes Ivan Ivan.

Ivan doesn't know how to properly think when he's faced with his emotions. He's used to tuning out his emotions to do things. So when his emotions get involved? It's like an electric shock and he relies on the thing closest to him to hold on to.

And that thing is Till.

Ivan was obsessed with Till. I'm sure we all know that but people really undermine his determination when it comes to Till.

I really do believe that Ivan planned for both him and Till to die in R6 as an ode to their longing for freedom.

Because all Ivan ever wanted was to be free with Till.

The counter statements that suggest he wasn't choking Till and merely had his hands on him simply doesn't sit with me as the animation clearly showed Ivan's hands clenching hard as he progressed to choke him.

Look at the dent formed by Ivan's fingers on his neck, right at the crucial point of air supply.

And Till is shocked but as he's gradually losing air, his eyes start to get heavy and he gets ready to accept the darkness that follow

And while Ivan is getting shot, he chokes him even harder.

Because that IS his goal.

For Till and him to die so they'd be together in whatever life that follows hereafter.

I disagree when I hear that Ivan meant to sacrifice himself for Till. Yes that did happen at the end but it was never what he initially intended. His initial intent was far more dark and possessive. Which is very on brand for a Vivinos character.

However, now we're getting to the sacrifice part and I believe this is where Ivan had a turning point.

As he gets his final shot and basically sees he's about to die, he looks at Till in surprise.

Because no matter how much he wished for them both to be together, he can't kill his God. He can't kill his Universe. Ivan is possessive but Ivan is also weak when it comes to him.

This smile of his shows that sentiment. "Ah I really can't go through with it afterall"

Ivan always believed he and Sua were similar but he resented her for sacrificing herself for Mizi. He believed he was better than that. He won't ever do that. Wherever Till goes, he goes. Yet, when he was actually faced with the task of doing it, he finally realised what Sua felt. Because Sua, just like Ivan, was also quite possessive of Mizi.

He couldn't do it, and at that moment he knew that he and Sua really weren't so different. Only difference was that while Sua was loved, felt love. Ivan never felt it.

Ivan did everything for Till. He stayed at Anakt for Till. He pursued alien stage for Till.

And his last act was also for Till. He wanted his last action to be for himself, to finally grant his long due wish of being with Till but he couldn't do it. And while the sacrifice was spontaneous, it was just so...easy to do. Because again, Ivan thought Till never cared as much about him as he did (abandonment issues at their finest) so him dying wouldn't really affect him as much.

This makes Ivan so much more tragic for me. And this heavily fits him as a complex character.

"Thank you for being the victim of my shallow emotions."

When were you or your feelings ever shallow, Ivan...

[mononijikayu]

immortal sukuna who — in your fourth life (2).

immortal sukuna masterlist

immortal sukuna who doesn’t know how to care for you, watches with clenched fists as you stumble, frustration simmering beneath his cold exterior.

“damn it.” sukuna mutters under his breath, hating the helplessness he feels but unable to look away.

immortal sukuna who despite his inexperience, can’t help but fuss over you.

“you’re doing it wrong, little bird.” sukuna growls, but his grip on your arm is careful, his touch lingering longer than it should.

"i-i'm sorry." you whisper back to him, the guilt in your voice prevalent. sukuna felt the throbbing pain in his eyes, looking at you. he didn't want you to feel this way. not ever.

“just... let me help you.” sukuna says, though his tone is sharper than intended. he never wants you to be aggrieved by his frustration. because it wasn't you. it was him.

immortal sukuna doesn't know what to do. he doesn't know how to take care of you in this way. and he was angry at himself.

immortal sukuna truly only wants nothing more than to ease your life, feels a rare pang of helplessness every time you hesitate.

“you don’t need to ask me, little bird." sukuna whispers, quieter now, as he walks beside you, a silent guardian, fiercely protective even when you can’t see him.

“but i...” you whisper back, your voice echoing a tone of guilt.

sukuna shakes his head, his lips pursed in a flat line. “it doesn’t matter. i... i want to care for you. so, don't worry, little bird."

your lips pursed into a line. "alright."

immortal sukuna who understands the fragility of your human form, spends sleepless nights imagining how to show you the world through his eyes.

“if you could see what i do… you’d know why i want to protect you." sukuna murmurs in the dark, his voice soft and uncharacteristically tender. “the world is cruel, little bird.”

“but you aren’t." your sweet voice echoes as the wind rustles through the flower-laden field. “you’re kind.”

immortal sukuna can feel his heart shatter. “i was never kind, little bird. if i was… why would i be cursed like this?” his voice trembles with the weight of unspoken pain, the question hanging heavily in the air.

you step closer, tilting your head as if trying to see sukuna through the shadows. “but you are kind to me. you guide me when i stumble. you stay by my side. that’s kindness.”

a flicker of uncertainty passes through sukuna, and he shakes his head. “you see what you want to see.”

“but i see you, even if my eyes cannot.” you insist gently. “you protect me because you care. isn’t that kindness?”

immortal sukuna cannot help but let out a soft, incredulous laugh, a sound so foreign to him. “perhaps… but i’m still a monster.”

you reach out, fingers brushing against his arm. “even monsters can have soft hearts. just look at how you’re here, with me.”

the weight of your words sinks in, and for a moment, sukuna’s icy facade cracks, revealing the warmth beneath. “you really believe that, little bird?” he asks, vulnerability creeping into his voice.

“with all my heart.” you reply, your smile brightening the dimness around you. “you’ve shown me more beauty than i could ever imagine. just let yourself be the one who cares.”

in that moment, as the flowers sway gently in the breeze, immortal sukuna feels the impossible stir within him—a glimmer of hope, a touch of warmth he never thought he could possess.

“maybe… just maybe, little bird.” sukuna tenderly whispers back to you. “i can learn to be kind.”

immortal sukuna watches as you close your eyes, tilting your head to feel the warmth of the sun on your face, a smile blooming despite your blindness.

“can you smell the flowers?” you ask, inhaling deeply. “it’s like spring has come just for us.”

sukuna nods, though you can’t see him, the corners of his lips curling up. “yes, but you make it brighter. you always do... little bird.”

you turn towards sukuna's voice, as if trying to catch a glimpse of him with your other senses. “do you think the flowers know how beautiful they are?” you muse. “or do they just bloom without knowing?”

“maybe they know, little bird.” sukuna replies, his voice softer than usual. “just like you. you bring light to places I never knew existed.”

you laugh lightly, a sound that dances through the air like music. “you’re sweet when you want to be, you know. just admit it—you enjoy this little world we’ve created. well, it was mostly you. i was just....helping you out.”

sukuna hesitates, then concedes, “perhaps i do. it’s… nice to feel something beyond my curse.”

your hand finds sukuna's own, fingers intertwining effortlessly. “then let’s create more moments like this. you can help me experience the world, even if i can’t see it.”

immortal sukuna squeezes your hand gently, the warmth of your touch igniting something deep within him. “i’ll always be here to guide you, little bird. wherever you want to go, i'll bring you there.”

you lean in closer, your voice barely a whisper. “and i’ll find you in every flower, every breeze, and every moment we share. even if i just hear it or smell it. because you, sukuna, are my world.”

immortal sukuna feels his heart racing, and for the first time in eternity, he feels something other than the weight of his past.

immortal sukuna finds lightness, a sweet tenderness that makes him want to protect you fiercely, not just from the world, but from the shadows lurking within himself.

“then let’s make this world beautiful together, little bird.” sukuna murmurs, a vow laced with warmth, a promise of kindness that echoes softly in the field of blooming flowers.

you smile at him with everything in you. “together!”

immortal sukuna smiles the happiest because of you.

“together.” sukuna agrees, taking your hand and kissing your ring finger, as though a promise, as though a vow.

[justcallme-ange]

what's your favorite things to draw about your crivals design?

Oooh that's a hard question, I think saying everything would be a copout haha. With Techno it's hard to say because I literally took all my fav things to draw and just like stuck them on him? Posing him is super fun because I get to study animal anatomy and try to make it work on an anthropomorphic form. His face though I have to say is the most fun. His teeth and tusks have been a treat to draw cuz I don't get to draw them often? And his ears and mane too, the ears because they're just as expressive as like eyebrows, and his mane... I just like drawing fluff what can I say. As for Dream, I think his expressions have been the most fun. cc!Dream's voice has a lot of variety as well as inflections, and it's really fun to try and think of a stylized way to portray that when I'm only doing a single drawing or comic panels where there is no sound. I also just like drawing his hands? I like drawing hands in general but with all the skills that c!Dream possesses it's fun drawing them doing things XD

[sophieinwonderland]

Hot take: Pluralphobia is a systemic issue...

It's not always as visible or identifiable because it's often associated and mixed with other forms of discrimination but that doesn't make it any less real.

When you start recognizing it for what it is though, it's hard to ignore.

There is an ingrained sense in many cultures that being multiple in one body is wrong. The oldest form of pluralphobia is a fear of possessing spirits that are often seen as demonic entities. This view, I would argue, shaped a lot of the harmful and downright murderous stereotypes around DID when it became a disorder.

DID gave people a way to reinvent what was previously seen as demonic possession in the form of mental illness. But it all stems from the same root fears.

The fear of sharing your body with another. The terror of not having control.

The fear of people who are multiple. Because how can you trust somebody if you don't really know who is in control from moment to moment?

If you don't believe that this is a real issue, then I might ask you how many workplaces do you think would be perfectly okay with you identifying as plural and letting your headmates go by their chosen names whenever they are fronting?

I am willing to bet that while there may be a few out there that would be fine with this, many would not.

And while sysmeds are not the root cause of systemic pluralphobia, they do contribute to it when their whole ideology is centered around furthering pluralphobia, but only for the plurals they don't like.

[mozillavulpix]

The other reason I think it's so nice that Satoru transformed is it probably wasn't the plan from the very beginning.

Him and Daifuku don't have Precure names, and the only real merch of them transformed they have are some acrylic stands (which got sold out so fast they started opening up pre-orders for another batch within a few days lmao), a card of them in the movie-branded candy toys and some stuff in the collab cafe.

We're past the Episode 30 powerup in the show, so even if they got the forms in the show now it probably wouldn't do much to affect the plot overall. And they don't start rolling out huge new merchandise lines this late into the series.

It kind of feels like a thing where they originally just had the intention of Satoru being a supporting character who the girls could go to for animal facts (and Daifuku for kids with bunnies to relate to) but then as they kept writing the season they realised how much he added to the group dynamic when he was around and then thought "actually he's just as motivated as the Precure to help people, it would be kind of cruel to not let him be a Precure at some point".

Like they seemed to have the same thought with Seiji in Happiness Charge, but for him it was only in the very tail-end of the series and as far as I remember he didn't really get any powers of his own, he just got possessed by darkness and then stayed in that outfit in the final battle.

Basically, the series could have easily gone without giving Satoru anything. But even if it's just vague fanservice that doesn't get officially named as them being Precure, they did go out of their way to come up with designs for them and let them have that moment of spotlight.

Honestly, even if they're not the same gender, I think audiences find themselves relating a lot to 'the character that doesn't have any superpowers but tries to help anyway'. They're more like 'us', after all. So giving them something really helps that feeling that 'anyone can be a Precure'. Even if you're not someone that Bandai will sell dolls of.

now when they'll show up in the show is a whole other question

[gay-dorito-dust]

possession au reader actually clapping tf back when Ford returns and is like “Oh yeah, you know that dream demon? That you summoned way back when and failed to run by me for some reason? Yeah, I trust you can put two and two together, smart guy.” they spit out that last part.

I can see reader bringing up the fact that if Ford has actually payed attention to what the paintings on the cave wall, Bill wouldn’t have been able to possess them nor the portal would’ve ever been an thing, at least that’s what reader thinks.

‘YOU WERE THE ONE WHO BROUGHT BILL HERE FORD!’ You snapped, ‘YOU BROUGHT HIM HERE BECAUSE YOUR EGO WAS A FRAGILE AS GLASS! YOU COULDN’T BREAK THROUGH YOUR RESEARCH AND INSTEAD SUMMONED A DEMON YOU WERE WARNED NOT TO!’ You were sick and tired of the ridicule your character has undergone for thirty years, you found it insulting when you weren’t the one to have summoned the freak in the first place!

You refused to be the scapegoat for a family who couldn’t see their own flaws and accept that maybe they were indeed the problem.

‘What-‘

‘IM NOT FINISHED!’ You cut Ford off with a shout, glaring at him as the rest of the family was stunned to silence. ‘YOU’RE AT FAULT HERE STANFORD PINES BECAUSE HAS YOU ACTUALLY LISTEN TO YOUR COMMIN SENSE, if you even had any to begin with, THEN MAYBE YOU WOULDN’T HAVE WASTED THIRTY YEARS OF YOUR PATHETIC LIFE FOR SOMETHING SO TEMPORARY!’you added as you extenuated your anger and frustration in the form of a few well placed pokes to his chest.

‘Hey that’s not fair-‘ Stanley tried to intervene but you looked at him with a glare that silenced him immediately.

‘I wouldn’t start talking if I were you Stanley Pines because I’m just about as sick to death of you as I am your six fingered brother.’ You spat venomously but now your voice was as calm and level that it made the tension worse as though ever was waiting for you to snap again.

‘Blame me for your faults that you know are yours, blame me for every wrongdoing you’ve ever done but it won’t take away the fact that you are the one who committed the crime.’ You had the room and you knew it because you can tell they were trying to come up with something, anything to shift blame on to you but were failing massively as Stan and Ford’s mouths opened and closed like a fishes. ‘The monster is in this room and it wears human skin.’ You finished, letting them know that forgiveness was the last thing you wanted from them, you went thirty years without anything but blame, ridicule and deformation against your character.

You wanted to see them beg and plead for mercy that will never come, not even in death.

[highdefhoetry]

a clash of sword and flame.

cw: nsfw!!! mmf, competitive threesome, penetration (penis in vagina), doggy style, missionary, blow job/facefucking, oral sex, unprotected sex, creampies, spanking, hair pulling, praise, body worship, fingersucking, fingering, g-spot stimulation, multiple orgasms, biting/marking, possessive zoro, pussydrunk sanji

summary: zoro and sanji find out you've been fucking them both. a competition ensues, with you smack dab in the middle.

You were in trouble. Big trouble. And no amount of sweet talking or sugar coating could get you out of this situation. 

Your eyes dart back and forth between your two furious crew mates - Sanji, who was half naked in bed next to you, clutching the white sheets in tight fists, and Zoro, fully clothed and standing in front of the closed door with his arms crossed and his face twisted into a scowl. Both looked at you expectantly, waiting for an answer, silently fuming as a thick and palpable tension wafted through the air. 

It was a well kept secret. Or so you thought. Only Nami and Robin were privy to your midnight visits to the kitchen and your early morning calls to the crow’s nest. You had made sure of that. There was no reason anyone else on the crew needed to know that you were secretly fucking two of your crewmates. Hell would break loose, knowing how intense the rivalry was between those two. 

But even the best kept secrets eventually came to light. And the consequence of your sex-driven decisions was staring you right in the face.

“Tch... you can’t be serious…” the swordsman sneered, shooting daggers at the blonde. “I can’t believe you fell for the shitty cook’s bullshit.”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?!” Sanji stumbles to his feet while struggling to pull up his briefs, his erection still visible through the white fabric. 

“She's smarter than that,” Zoro storms towards him until they’re both neck and neck. “She knows she can do better than a perverted cook who can't keep it in his pants.”

“Oh, so you think you’re better than me?!”

“I don’t think I’m better than you. I know I am.”

This is bad. Really bad. The two of them always bicker and argue, but they might actually kill each other this time if you don’t do something about it. You pull the thin bed sheets up to your chest, hiding your nude form underneath, and stand up to try and get between them. You created this mess, you had to at least try to stop it from escalating any further.

“Guys, don’t fight…” you try to reason with them, but your words go unheard as their argument continues.

“At least I know how to treat a lady! A brute like you has no concept of chivalry or romance!”

“I don’t need any damn chivalry,” a smirk creeps up Zoro’s face, twisting his expression into one of manic rage. “And I don’t need to smooth talk a woman to get laid.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Sanji’s voice falls, the quiet tone a stark contrast to the previous screaming and yelling. He tears his eyes away from Zoro and looks at you with both passion and scorn in his gaze. It breaks your heart, seeing him this way. This wasn’t what you wanted at all.

But strangely, it doesn’t last. Something shifts in his gaze, encompassing his body as he breaks away from the argument.

He returns to the bed, gently taking your fingers and leaving soft kisses from the back of your hand and up the rest of your arm. It happens so fast you don’t have time to protest, succumbing to his embrace as he wraps his arm around the small of your back. His soft hands glide across your skin, caressing every sensitive nerve with the most delicate touch he can muster. A fluttered moan escapes when his lips reach your neck and shoulders. You close your eyes, then open them again when you feel Zoro’s sharp glare boring into you. He watches on in shock, fists clenched tightly at his sides.

“A beautiful lady like her needs to be worshiped properly… something an ape like you could never do,” Sanji’s sweet words flutter in your ears, making you shiver as he leaves a trail of soft kisses across your skin. “Ma chérie, tu n'as pas besoin d'un imbécile comme lui.”

Zoro mutters something about “stupid fancy French bullshit” as you try to suppress your moans, melting at the praise Sanji is showering over you. It’s what you love most about fucking him; he treats you like a goddess, devoting himself entirely to your pleasure. You truly feel like he’s become your lover, as if the two of you are the only ones who exist in this moment.

But you’re suddenly reminded of the other’s presence when you’re pulled toward the other side of the bed and into a strong pair of arms. Zoro holds you tightly, muscles bulging as he wraps himself around your frame. He’s shirtless, and his black pants are laying on the ground beside the bed, leaving him in his boxers. You feel his erection press against your back and instinctively rub your ass against it. Just how he likes.

“You’re not doing it right,” he grunts, glaring at a shocked-looking Sanji while he pushes you onto your stomach. You start to say something, but you’re silenced when his rough, calloused hands take hold of your thighs and spread them out, pulling your hips back onto his while his tip pushes into your hole.

You cry out when his cock starts pumping inside you, slamming into your walls at an incredible pace. Your teeth sink into the pillow, muffling your cries of pleasure as the swordsman fucks you deeply, passionately, right in front of the cook. He grunts quietly, letting out short, labored breaths while enjoying the feeling of your walls clenching around his shaft.

“She’s not some… delicate little flower…” he grumbles in between strokes. “You need… to fuck her… properly…”

It was rough and intense, as it always was when you fucked Zoro. But you couldn’t get enough of it. You loved the way he’d manhandle you, tossing you around like a doll into whatever position he wanted. You’d melt when he told you how tight you were, how fucking good it felt to be inside you, how you had the best ass in the Grand Line. He spanks you a couple times, grinning when he hears the surprised little noises you make from the unexpected impact. His fingers run through your hair, then grasp a clump of your locks before pulling back tightly. Your head moves back, forcing you to look Sanji in the eyes as he watches Zoro fuck you into a dizzying headspace. He gawks at you wide-eyed, cheeks pink and cigarette dangling precariously from his mouth.

“Sanji…!” you gasp, earning another spank from Zoro.

“You’re mine, got it?” he sneers into your ear, tugging your hair a little harder. “Say it nice and loud so the shitty cook can hear it.”

“I’m yours.”

“Good. Say it again.”

“I’m yours!” you cry out, feeling Zoro’s cock throb inside you. He speeds up, the steady pumping turning into a wild, frenzied rhythm that is so intense you start seeing stars. Then finally, he explodes inside you, filling your hole with comforting warmth. You can feel him throbbing as he holds your hips, making sure he’s emptied every drop of cum inside you. Making sure Sanji knows who you belong to.

You lay down on your stomach, skin damp with sweat and flushed with heat. But you don’t get to rest for long. You’re pulled into another firm pair of arms that flip you onto your back, forcing you to look your French lover in the eyes despite your guilty conscience telling you to hide. Your eyes dart away, but when a gentle hand takes your chin and pulls it towards him, you bashfully meet his gaze. You expected anger, sadness, resentment… but all you see reflected in those eyes is worry and concern. 

“Ma cœur…” he runs his thumb across your bottom lip, cradling your cheek in his other hand. “Are you alright? Did that idiot hurt you?”

He runs a hand down your chest, flicking your nipples before caressing the soft, supple skin underneath. He gently gropes your breast, coaxing moans and other little sounds from your parted lips before running down your stomach and between your thighs. His fingers play with your clit, teasing it by massaging the hood of your clit. Your moans become louder, your body becomes more desperate for release. Sanji pushes a finger inside you, despite your hole still slick with Zoro’s cum, and curls against your walls until you erupt in an intense orgasm that causes your legs to shake. Zoro had brought you to the peak, but Sanji had pushed you over the edge.

Your cry of pleasure is so loud it makes your throat feel hoarse. Satisfied, Sanji smirks and pulls down his white briefs. It was his turn now. He enters you slowly, carefully, and calmly, asking every now and then, “Does it feel good? Am I going too fast? Are you alright, ma amour?” 

You nod and spread your legs, inviting him in.

His strokes are longer, deeper, more controlled. His dick pulsates within you, the slight curve of his shaft hitting your walls perfectly and spurring you towards another orgasm. He holds your legs at his sides, gazing deeply into your eyes without tearing them away for a moment. You’ve never felt so seen, so vulnerable. You almost forget there’s another person there with you.

It’s not long before you cum again, this time a little harder than before. Sanji cums shortly after, having kept himself in control until this moment. Ladies always came first. That was something he lived by, a motto that made sex with him all the more satisfying. You smile up at him, mirroring back the affectionate grin he’s giving you from above. He fills you with his own cum, pumping into you a few more times as if he was trying to shove his own seed past Zoro’s. He wasn’t going to let the swordsman one-up him. It was his own way of claiming you. 

You’re only given a small respite before the next round. A strong pair of hands grips your ankles and yanks you towards the other side of the bed. Zoro locks eyes with you, brows furrowed in displeasure as he takes in your blissed out expression. He leans forward and kisses you intensely, biting your lower lip while his tongue presses against yours. His teeth sink into your neck, leaving bite marks down to your collar bones prominent enough to see. He’s mid-bite when Sanji crawls on top and pushes him off. The blonde looks pissed as he notes the marks on your skin.

“You’re like a damn animal!” he yells, once again butting heads with the surly swordsman. “This is no way to treat a lady!”

“She likes it, you moron!” Zoro spits back, forehead pressed against Sanji’s. 

“Guys, please…!” You try to placate them, but it only ends with each man taking hold of your hands and pinning them down on the bed next to you.

“I made her cum, twice,” Sanji notes while planting his lips onto your wrist. “How many times did she cum with you, mosshead? Oh, right. Zero.”

“I can make her cum just fine, curlybrow,” Zoro sneers, lacing his rough fingers with yours while nipping at your neck. 

“Oh, yeah?!”

“Yeah,” he says with a smirk.

You feel another pair of fingers push inside your hole and dig into your walls, seeking out the ribbed spot he knows will make you scream. It doesn’t take long for him to find it, and within seconds you’ve reached another climax, an orgasm brought about by his expert hands and the steady way he’s pumping them inside you. He pulls them out and sticks them in your mouth, letting you suck the cum off his chapped skin. You see him smile as he watches your lips encompass his hands. Focused entirely on the feel of his fingers in your mouth, you shudder when you suddenly feel a soft, wet tongue lapping at your clit. And when you look down, you see a mop of blonde hair in between your legs, Sanji’s soft hands holding each of your thighs. He eats you out, his lips kissing and licking every part of your mound. His tongue darts in between your folds, circles around your clit, tastes the entrance of your hole and the puffy lips around it. Still dripping with both sets of cum, he licks that up too, tasting the sweet mixture of you and his arch rival. 

You arch your back and throw back your head, giving him further access to you. He buries his face in your pussy, inhaling the scent while eating you fervently, as if you’re the best goddamn thing he’s ever tasted. But as you’re enjoying yourself, something forces your lips apart and shoves itself inside your mouth. The taste of dick and sweat fills your senses. Instinctively, your lips wrap around Zoro’s shaft and take in his massive cock, lips sliding up and down before letting your tongue linger on his tip. The swordsman groans with every soft movement, carefully pumping in and out of your mouth and speeding up only when he’s sure you’re ready to deep throat him. You open your jaw wider, signaling that you’re ready, and within moments he cradles both of your cheeks in hand and fucks into your mouth with ferver. 

The next orgasm shocks your system, sending electric waves through every nerve. You cry out hoarsely, high pitched notes warbling through the air that are muffled by the thick cock in your mouth. The taste of salty cum fills your senses as Zoro finishes; the warmth slides down your throat when you swallow it whole. He pulls out, allowing you to catch your breath. Sanji tears himself away from your pussy, looking at you with a completely blissed out expression before collapsing beside you. The swordsman lays at your other side, squishing you between the two men on a bed that’s only just big enough for the three of you. 

“...Stupid shitty cook…” Zoro grumbles, pulling you into his chest. You can feel his racing heartbeat as your skin presses against his, sticky with sweat and other fluids. He glares at the blonde, who’s finally coming to his senses enough to argue with him again.

“Damn mosshead…” Sanji returns his scowl before grabbing your arm and pulling you against him. His heart is pound against his chest, a steady beat beneath flushed red skin. 

You look over at Sanji, then back at a now snoozing Zoro who still has his arms wrapped around your waist, clinging to you possessively. You hear quiet snoring from behind, and look to see that Sanji has fallen asleep, as well. 

You wondered what this meant for the three of you, if you’d wake up to another round of bickering or if the two of them had come to some sort of silent conclusion. Your own heart races as you consider the future, a selfish part of you hoping this wasn’t just a one time thing despite knowing the trouble it had caused. 

When your own eyelids start to close, you decide that the matter can wait until morning. You’re exhausted, and it would take more than the promise of treasure to tear you away from the two men you loved most in this world.

[worseperson]

Please don't flop :( I think I might be onto something

(All mentions of energy in reference to craft is based on the dialog from the Head House Maiden talking about craft sickness and Siffrin being exhausted after Act 5’s finale)

It’s clearly shown that Wish Craft is able to access more craft types than just Time Craft, it only gives the wisher the energy to fulfil it.

There’s also the fact that the King and Siffrin change their form rapidly in the end. This change is MUCH faster than normal Body Craft. According to Isabeu and Mirabelle it takes a few months to medically transition with Body Craft. It’s not explained why it takes a few months but Mirabelle and Isabeu talk about there being a lot of recent advancements in the field of Body Craft. It’s possible that the length of the process is due to needing to conserve energy although this is unconfirmed and purely conjecture.

Another example of bodies changing from Wish Craft can be found in Loop. It’s unclear how but after giving up and eating the star shown in the intro it’s implied they made changed form against their will.

Speaking of Loop, Siffrin’s ability to retain EXP between loops, keep the party’s items, select the spot they loop back to, and every other Quality of Life feature (INCLUDING THE KNIFE) is due to the deal Loop made with the Universe. This is proven by how Loop had none of those features in “SASASASASA: a prologue” and their answer when asked what was up with the whole getting possessed thing when unlocking the knife (“Just Universe things”)

It’s also implied that Siffrin got stronger, not just from farming EXP, but from the Wish Craft. As seen by the move "(Just attack.)" and SIffrin immediately becoming Level 99 during Act 5 (although this is likely due to Quality of Life (Not connected to Loop this time)). The King also got stronger but it is unclear if this just due to the Body Craft (See Odile talking about why body craft is banned in Kabeu). Also Loop's pretty strong in the final fight.

Wish Craft is also able to apparently destroy the world? This can be shown with how Loop destroyed their world(?) and made it anew (As confirmed by there being no timeline branching or alternate worlds according to Insertdisc5). Siffrin and Loop also do this anytime they loop back

And the most interesting part, what destroyed the Country, the language, or it's name?

The country was erased by Wish Craft, but it remains visible at the end of the game. The country is glitchy and headache inducing, but it IS visible.

The name and language of the country still remains, but they were removed from everyone's memory. The language cannot be read without additional wish craft, attempting to do so will either be incomprehensible or cause splitting headaches, but it still exists.

Colour exists too. People can see colour, but only in dire moments. According to a book on Colour theory found in the House, people forgot how to see colour.

I believe wish craft is connected to all types of Craft and the craft of memories

It's also interesting how Wish Craft has a limited range. Only vaugard is frozen by the King, Siffrin is also implied to only be affecting Vaugard (Based on dialog from the King) Is the world Loop came from still there? Is there an area that wasn't affected by the erasure of colour or the country?

I'm done, I have a bit more I could talk about but I'm done

[fishymom-art]

Also since AO3 is a bit on the fritz, please accept my comment here

1) Human bites have a high chance of infection, and boy do the Preston adults look bite-able

2) Love Dipper being a wellspring of nerdiness!

3) may I join in the sport of Triangle Flustering?

4) And let's add another one to the ADAC (All Demons Are Cats) bingo with Bill bapping stuff off the counter and being a nuisance!

5) "Lizard drawn by a child", you know stuff is dire when BILL of all people goes for immediate insults

6) the plan hinges on a minuscule fact (kneecap possession), which is SO Bill... He just picks a detail and builds everything on it

7) "Minigolf with guns" is a TERRIFYING concept even without Cipher being the one to suggest it!

8) Scaring the crap out of rich douches, for a good cause! Chaotic good at it's finest!

9) From the ominous mood I am assuming the Theraprism is not simply requiring Bill for additional forms, do they?

Again, apologies for the format, but I don't want AO3 to eat the comment

Toodles, and goodnight!

I LAUGHED THROUGH THE WHOLE COMMENT AHHAHAHA THANK YOU SO MUCH

I love your comments and dw, your wouldn't drown - I read each and every comment I get!

Please, do bite Preston Northwest

Dipper is the same level of nerdyness as I am. All the nerdy things I like are automatically his special interests (2001: A Space Odyssey and 2010: Year We Made Contact are the movies ever, prove me wrong)

Yes, you can join the sport of Triangle Flustering. It is something commonly practiced among the Pines family and is a perfect family activity

I like thinking that if Bill can't cause chaos on big scale, he'll make sure to cause as much of it on a smaller scale to compensate. So yes, he is a cat

Hey, he insults everyone all the time! Gotta say though, this one is the least creative one

I also like the fact that I didn't even consider if the Guards do have kneecaps at all. So now it just looks like Bill basically assumes everyone who has visible legs has some sort of kneecaps, which in turn can be broken.

I would watch someone play mini golf with guns actually

Bill brought "eat the rich" to a whole new level

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[p1nkc4lyps0]

saboteur