#happy one year celebration of TRANSMUTE!!!

[banana-zim]

🎊HAPPY ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY TO @scentofsteam 's PREMIERE ALBUM TRANSMUTE!!! 🎊

This album is very special to me, considering I work closely with the band in multiple ways (manager, merch, etc.). I've been a part of this journey for many years, watching Dawn compose an entire album and learn everything from audio engineering to bass guitar to sound mixing along the way. So, to say the least, today is a really special day. And I'm celebratin'.

If you haven't heard it yet, give it a listen. It's free for anyone to enjoy, it's sharing the music that matters. Spotify // Bandcamp // Youtube

yeah the poll only gave me 12 options so song 12 and 13 go into the last option :')

👽 Reblogs appreciated for more music / poll reach! 👽

#scent of steam #grunge #indie rock #synth rock #transmute #band stuff #indie band #happy one year celebration of TRANSMUTE!!! #reblogs appreciated for more reach!

[eatmangoesnekkid]

Lovemaking/Fucking as a Regenerative Practice for Women and Other Female Bodied People to Share With their Beloved of Any Gender:

I truly believe that a slow, thoughtful, openhearted, tuned in lover can just as effective as years of therapy. This is probably one of my top 3 favorite sexual arts to channel and translate about. And I know that the uninitiated read the word "fucking" and may tense up and think derogatory things. But real "fucking" is not careless or thoughtless. It is built-up or ongoing non-mechanistic primal desire--the hot, wet, sticky, dripping, stealthy, lusty, passionate heat and hunger that more easier accessed in new relationships but can nurtured or revived in long-term ones. It is our cells and tissues way of craving depth--before thought. It is actually quite divine and prayerful to be able to access this state when your mind is empty and heart is open towards your lover. Begin threading your life with more slow relaxing energy. Have a love affair with mindfulness and distill more presence in your life, like through a meditation practice, chanting, or listening to soulful music like gospel music as a passionate, holy, primal frequency that instinctively calibrates you into deep feeling. Embarking on the journey to living a slower life will greatly support you in your unrepressed lovemaking and healing arts in the future. You may find yourself naturally divesting from distractions like celebrity culture without much effort.

As you start to get familiar with and play in different colors and intensities of this regenerative practice, be sure to open your mouth, open your back throat, which opens your cervix, your metaphysical heart, and streams down even more heavenly love energy into your hands and body. Love is the healing energy, you see and when you begin to embody more love, your hands and body become portals to healing/regeneration. A lover being connected to or inside your body regenerates them over and over again, in different ways. To be a Love Goddess or Sex Priestess, means that you have generous access to your innate healing energy to shift an experience. In the female form, this is your creamy lubrication that's not just confined to your pussy, but also in your throat, ass, hands, underarms, areolas, nipples, heart, I mean- your whole body and its abundance of pheromones become oceanic.

A woman's body arcs open wide as pure water quenching every cellular thirst.

When making love/fucking, you want to also simultaneously transfer or transmute some of your arousal, desire, and heat towards the stagnant inflamed parts of your lover. Let's say your beloved lover has stagnant eyes or chronic migraines. As you climb onto or straddle your lover's lap, as you sit your ass on lover's thighs, and invite this person to suck your breasts (not that you say words, but feel the desire and intention), you then transfer that heightened arch-back energy into your lover's face by lovingly massaging and kissing and speaking life into their eyes or scalp out loud (your voice/ranges of sound is also regenerative), stimulating their energy to flow which is what creates their new body narratives. Also you don't just work where the pain site or stagnation issue is location. Also work on the extremities of your Beloved like their feet, hands, calves, etc.

Basically you are finding ways to touch and speak life into their entire body depending upon what position your body is arcing open inside of. Sitting on their face? Lovely--also massage and knead their calves while sitting to bring heat, warmth, lymph and blood flow happiness into lower extremities. For people who have body challenges, the extremities are usually more tight and cold which support eye and migraine issues and the like. You do this while being touched/sucked on (be sure to grasp/massage the nape of the neck too for greater energy unlocking) and it's this beautiful dance and transference of energy that orbits and volleys back and forth between you and your lover. It’s how you can help drain the depressive energy stored in lover’s body over the years as well. This is an advanced practice.

If you are truly connected to divine feminine, you never have to be afraid, particularly if a depth of love is present in your relationship connection. None of us will ever be all “healed” or unblemished in this 3D reality —it’s impossible and we can still share our bodies with our imperfect lovers who may be having a hard time or going through some shit for very long time and actually be of service to them. After any kind of lovemaking/fucking, be sure to go outside on grass or sand or in water on the same or next day and shake your body vigorously while barefoot and lightly clothed. When we make love or fuck, our bodies are used as portals to give, receive, exchange or extract energy. Sex is the deepest energy work, the nastier and more unrestrictive and un-egoic, the better the medicine.

You can do this same act for knee pain and anything else. As you kiss and grip your lover's body (while taking caution and care around the pain spot), you send that arousal, love, care, and desire energy, maybe you even see or feel golden, violent, or green healing and send it into the knee and the surrounding areas. You speak love into the knee and the surrounding areas, almost like you are wanting to penetrate or be penetrated by it. Penetrative (giving/receiving) energy when love is present is deeply healing for all bodies. There is so many layers and viscosities that we get to play in when it comes to healing and regeneration, where lovemaking becomes artful and a much needed 'hands on, hands inside' skillset.

When you become sensitive to energy, and aware of what it means to have a female body in your every day life, you can place your hand on lover's spine and bring an immediate shift in their reality. You can do the same thing for your child or father. You are not trying heal or fix ANYTHING--you are merely allowing your body to be that portal to love/creation it was divinely oriented to be.

But with lovemaking/fucking, that same innocent energy is extraordinarily heightened into larger and more robust erotic energy to be orbited between two lovers with open hearts and undernourished egos. While doctors can be incredibly valuable, there is also something mystical that melts and swells in you that can do what no physician can. It’s incumbent that you lay down what you no longer need to carry and access those deep states that allow you to live your highest potential and help your loved ones do the same. -India Ame'ye, Author

[artificial-transmutations]

An anniversary!

It's hard to believe, but this blog is around for almost a year now! In this time, I published about ~100 posts and almost 3000 of you crazy, good looking awesome people decided to follow my writing! Thank you so much for every like, reblog, follow or message during this year!

Much has happened indeed: I started a membership page for a while but decided to reduce it to a tip jar after a few months to focus on fewer, higher quality stories. I have made some great progress in the generation of AI pictures for my blog and, of course, I learned a lot about writing.

So, what's next? Well, there are two celebrations, so I have two announcements. I'll only talk about the first one now, though, since I don't quite *yet* have 3000 followers to celebrate (that might follow in a few weeks, who knows :) )

But now for the one-year-artificial-transmutations special:

I'm going to write another long story! If you liked Max' Journey or Closer Than Flesh, you might already know the concept: Single chapters of a long and intrically crafted story. However, this time I'll take it even further. The new (name yet undisclosed) story will be full novel length! And not just full novel length. I plan to actually publish it as a novel once I'm done. Of couse, you can still read the full thing here, free of charge, as always, chapter by chapter.

While it will of course be a story about transformation and gay romance, I also aim to make it an intriguing fantasy tale standing by itself. As such, there will be transformation, and there will also be man-on-man action - but not nearly as much as, for example, in Closer Than Flesh, where every chapter contained one or the other (or, sometimes, both). I recognize that this might not be what some of you are here for, but don't worry!

I will of course also continue to write my shorter stories with less plot and more... other content. In fact, the 3000-Follower special will revolve around that kind of stories.

But, if you could see yourself reading a fantasy novel from me with transformation content, be sure to watch my blog closely :) I'm happy for everyone who likes to read my stuff!

So, this is what you can expect here in the next months to come (writing a novel is a lot of work!). Tell me what you think if you like!

Let me close with another big Thank You! for being awesome for a whole year - and a picture related to the big story that is to come :)

#not a story

[highpriestess13]

Collective Reading!

Y’all know there’s a conjunction happening this Saturday right? On 4/20 👀👀. Let’s get into the energies happening for you guys on this day!

For starters, I see someone making a clear decisive decision to let something go and step into something new. I feel this may be between you and someone else, water and air energy… possibility of fire as well. Someone may have went into a connection with someone or gotten married and now someone may be having either doubts, there may be a lot turbulence or someone just wasn’t who they said they were. If that’s the case, I see a settlement or a divorce happening or this may be 2 people deciding to get help like a therapist or marriage counseling. However I do feel like someone is choosing to communicate that something may not be working out so there’s an ending to a relationship whether romantic or platonic. I’m not sure if someone is bipolar or constantly has mood swings, I also feel like someone has too much going on emotionally, so prioritizing the right things will help someone regain balance. So this Saturday, you may see a lot of divorces, breakups whether it’s your personal experience or others.

TRAVELING! I see some traveling for you guys, for some this may be for work. If it’s not a literal travel this could be a shift/ change of mindset. This shift will gear you towards focusing on your bag. You’re releasing the past and not letting it get to you or stop you from achieving certain goals for yourself. It’s also giving entrepreneurial energy. If this isn’t you, this is someone possibly coming towards you that have these qualities or energy. Or they may be a guide to you in some way. 666 is confirmation and I’m also getting “allow for things to happen”. This motivation is going to stem from the past like someone transmuting old energy into new energy.

On Saturday… there’s someone dealing with inner turmoil or inner demons however you may look at it if this is you. There’s still pent up anger, trauma, negativity. Someone could be feeling like a loner, this may be due to either power struggle OR abuse of power. Either way I just feel you separating yourself from anyone and anything that’s toxic and unhealthy for you or that may bring up past trauma/ triggers. If you’ve been feeling triggered a lot, it’s time to look within a figure how to maneuver around it or through it so that you don’t cause harm to others and yourself. 99 and 44 are confirmation. Heavy on keeping yourself protected and guarded from devil like energy so that your energy doesn’t get mixed up.

Someone from a spiritually gifted family or this may be meeting/ choosing your soul family or tribe. This could be your ancestors as well. I see celebrations and recognition for planting a fertile ground for your current or future family to thrive in especially on a spiritual level. The seeds took time to grow and thrive and it took a lot of hard work, dedication, ups and downs but you got it done and your ancestors/ spirit guides are celebrating you. They’re definitely happy with all of the progress you’ve made… could’ve been for the last 7 years, give or take for some. There’s still more work to do because you have such a huge responsibility and this is why they love and respect you so much because even when things get rough and tough and too much to handle you still keep going. Some of you could be catching a break or taking a much needed one so vacations are on the horizon. “Dedication” is what I’m hearing.

I see some emotions coming back to the surface. Whether it’s fears or something that’s been hidden in the subconscious for some time. I’m hearing “lying dormant”. If things begin to resurface for you at this time, it’s because you’re needing to face them so that you can properly heal and align with the energy. Be gentle with yourself and others and show some compassion.. being harsh isn’t going to do any Justice for your now anyone but being gentle will.

There’s an argument bound to happen between 2 people possibly men. We have fire and air energy. Whoever this fire sign is, they’re going to be the one to attack first while the air sign keeps themselves grounded and strong minded and not entertain the other person’s approach… if that makes sense. I feel like this fire sign is upset because a female may have chosen the air sign make. With this situation, faith is being restored. Someone is leaving behind certain rules on how something should be and just going with what they want. I’m also seeing someone being a divine messenger as well.. Moses is significant too.

#fypシ #tarotcommunity #tarot cards #tarot reading #tarot #fypage #tumblr fyp #tarot reader #daily tarot #pick a deck #tarot divination #tarot of the day #divine messages #dailymessage #tarot deck #divinity #divination #message for the collective #free readings #free tarot #fyp #general readings #general reading #tarot spread #tarot spreads #collective reading #pick a card reading #pick a pile #pick a picture #pick a photo

[pinksobg]

.˚‧︵‿ . . 🫖🌷 . . ‿︵‧˚.

Tea with the hatter 🌷 茶/chá/tea

What would a person love about having tea with you? Let me hype you up <3

[ID: pile 1: a close up from yeonjun (tomorrow x together) looking to the camera, celebrating the new year (year of the rabbit). pile 2: lighted candles, they are heart shaped, some are in the color red and others in the color pink. pile 3: yeonjun with a hand up and head tilted, showing a tiara with bunny hears for the year of the rabbit (this year, oh my). he is also with a sweater in baby pink with a a little of white color (in both of his pictures). End of ID.]

for reflexion purposes only. 💞 ready? let's go! hello! <3 I missed you guys <3 hope you enjoy the reading. i love tea and having tea can mean having a good time, right? i remember doing a final work on school about alternative medicine and we studied a lot about the origin of tea, I love tea so much, and I'm happy that the word chá in my native language comes from Mandarin 茶, I was very glad to study all of that

Pile 1) your power of transmutation. it seems very clear here that you are a person who can solve any kind of problem. looks like you've done this a lot already. you look like the kind of hero who sits down at the tea table after a battle, and continues with the vitality to move on with life. hair in the wind and a radiant look, confidence. surely a hatter would love to be your friend, maybe he's a little intimidated by your posture and good looks for the first impressions, but afterwards he'd definitely feel protected by your loyalty.

cards: 9 of wands, 8 of swords.

Pile 2) hello pile two! you overflow with pure love energy. what else to say? you are a full cup. perhaps you would arrive at the tea table with a sweet or a cake in hand. what you do for people is very clear that you are filled with love. the people around you can trust you and you can always have good advice, company or a shoulder to lean on (when you are not the one who is needing a shoulder, what is totally normal too). this is very beautiful. your energy is of love. a person having tea with you would definitely be grateful for that, with your attention to that person, for example. grateful for you to being you.

cards: 4 of cups, ace of cups.

Pile 3) your pile seems to be screaming connection with music, am i right? I see you as a beautiful flautist. abundant too. very abundant. you seem like such a kind person. it seems that... you would be that flautist who dresses in green, and plays walking rhythmically and happily, with no second intentions, just enjoying the moment and your art of existing. you play beautiful songs in the hearts of others too, bringing hope. an animation you might like is "howl's moving castle". "say things you don't understand..." flowers - miley cyrus. I would love to have a tea with you for sure!

cards: 10 of pentacles, the chariot.

positive affirmations for all piles <3

A lot of blessings come in my way

I'm enough and I matter. I respect myself and I love myself

It's okay to feel confused sometimes, and clarification come easily to me when I ask

peace and love,

pinksobg

#tarotblr #tarot community #💞💞💞 #pick a pile #pick a card #pick a picture #pick an image #tarot messages #tarotcommunity #goodnight 🌙

[mysticalstreamsalutations]

So I haven’t talked about the good shit in a while.

TW ed mention (no this isn’t the good shit, but this post isn’t going to be one for toxic positivity, & I’m not sorry for it.)

I know this: Sometimes life gets heavy. I mean, unbearably so; especially with this world in a state of crisis as it currently is. One soul crushing thing keeps happening, after the other, + sometimes, all at once. It takes a fuck lot to simply not collapse under the devastation, injustice, & losses we have collectively been subjected to the past few years. And it wasn’t fucking easy prior to this either; I will not act like it was. Mentally and emotionally, many of us have felt at the end of our ropes; completely emotionally, and mentally desolate. But. I just wanted to take a moment, and speculate on what I am GRATEFUL for right now, because it is absolutely necessary for every form of recovery I am trying to achieve. (ie: alcoholism, disordered eating, self loathing.) so here is a list of things I am grateful for, in no particular order: - A partner who loves me unconditionally, and without hesitation - which is something I had not had before. Major bonus: his fur babies accept me too. My love, & his boys have become family. 🏳️‍🌈 - A Home that truly feels like my own. But also ours. Somewhere I can be my saddest, weakest, and downtrodden-est, and it is still enough. I am still enough. - Parents/siblings who love me, despite not always understanding me. They genuinely give a damn, and I can see that now. I am of the firm belief however, that no person on this planet is going to make it through life unscathed. The trauma literally starts at birth. And I don’t mean to say that everyone’s lives are the same, or everyone’s pain is. That certainly isn’t the case. But I do feel I was put on this earth to transform, and transmute my soul/energy into its greatest potential. (However painful it may be, and however many cycles it takes.) Do I often feel like I have a purpose? Not really. But I am happy that I have decided, that merely living is enough for me. And I may not see eye to eye with all of my siblings on various things, but I love them all the same. My nieces and nephews are so precious, and wonderful too. I definitely lucked out on that front. - Sobriety from alcohol dependency… k, I’ll just say it - alcoholism. & no, I haven’t had a perfect record, since starting this “journey” at the end of Feb. I’ve had some slip ups. but I feel I should be able to celebrate the fact that I haven’t had withdrawals from alcohol, or even a hangover in 173 days. (I actually only know how many days, because of a Reddit post I made back then.) - MUSIC. 🖤 If you know me, you know there is almost always a song playing in my head. I call it J’s Internal Radio, lol. Although i am personally not musically inclined, I am going to draw from my angsty emo kid self, and say this: music has literally saved my life, more than once. Or rather it has helped me to save my own. P.s. I’m still that angsty emo kid, in my heart. <3 I probably always will be. (Only now I’m bound to wear a mix of black, + very colorful clothing - like an alt. hippie or something). Fun fact: The Paper Kites= currently playing on J’s I.R. - Nature! The only place where my mind can be still anymore. Feet in the river, hands plunging in, (next to @ultraterrestrialstars and Lex the Longhaired Chihuahua) searching for the perfect river rocks to take home, & love, + tumble. That is my happiest of happy places. - My physical health, + body: While I have resorted to some unhealthy coping mechanisms these past 10+ years or so, (& in turn, don’t always give my body the nourishment, + care it needs, & deserves) my body somehow still knows that it will be okay. I can feed myself delicious and nutritious food, & in turn, i shall receive energy, contentment, + eventually, peace. It isn’t easy to take care of something so multitudinous as that which harbors a soul, but I’m not alone, & I am determined. 🖤🤍

Eta: i’m also thankful for the few friends i’ve managed to make, and keep over the years, both IRL, and online. friends i talk to (almost) everyday, and friends i can go mos without speaking to, and when we finally do it’s as if no time has passed. “we communicate through memes” friends, musical soulmate friends, queer friends, smart ass friends, silly phone game friends, foodie friends, “let’s get coffee, and go from there” friends, badass feminist friends. “this made me think of you” friends, sweet as pie friends, “we couldn’t have a surface level convo if we tried” friends. i know it sounds like i have a lot of friends lol, but i don’t. the few i have are comprised of these things though, and i’m very lucky to have them. Quality over quantity, always. My partner is one of my very best friends.

#personal #Ed mention #alcoholism #parent mention #so I guess this is 32 #gratitude #love #growth #overcoming #baby steps #etc #queer relationships #lgbtq+ #recovery #music #I’m a scorpio moon and let me tell you - that shit is INTENSE. #sobriety #alcohol free #friendship

[noramoya]

HANNAH KOZAK 2022 EXPERIENCES IN LOS ANGELES, AT THE “HOLLY TERRACE”, FOREST LAWN MEMORIAL, GLENDALE •••

“As I made my way up the familiar road to Michael Jackson’s final resting place, I wondered what I would write about this year. Then, I saw Miyuki Amano, my friend from Japan. We both reached out to hug one another. It has been two years since she was able to travel to Los Angeles because of Covid. I met Miyuki at Forest Lawn Glendale on June 25, 2010. That was the first year that I started paying my respects to Michael and creating a blog to share with fans around the globe. My heart has been heavy lately and I hoped and knew that by heading to Forest Lawn, the magic there would help. Being around my MJ friends is magic. Miyuki’s handmade MJ dolls were in front of a sign from Japan as the glaring hot sun was beating down. I asked Miyuki if I could make a photo of her with her dolls, in the shade. It’s my favorite place to make photos at Forest Lawn because of the green grass, trees and hills in the background and I love the subdued light next to the tree. “Yes, of course you may.”

She gathered all her dolls in a bag that she put on her shoulder. After showing her the tree I liked, she started to set the dolls up in a way she liked. When I first met her, she wasn’t creating the dolls but rather was traveling from Tokyo with store bought MJ dolls. As she set up the dolls, I asked her how long it takes her to create them. “One month takes each doll with the body, clothes, shoes, everything.” Hardest to make is Remember The Time Doll.” She speaks such wonderful English. It would be so great to be able to speak Japanese the way Miyuki speaks English. “Do you check the dolls in your luggage” I asked, already knowing the answer. “No, I carry them in a backpack. I’m worried to put them in luggage.” she responded.

Every year since 2010 Miyuki travels to Forest Lawn to pay her respects. “I couldn’t come for two years. I’m so appreciative of my friends. I would send my card with friends.” A group of Michael fans in Japan would gather handmade cards for him and send them to Forest Lawn Glendale.

Next I see my friend Siren. This year Siren has created multiple drawings of Michael. For years, before I knew who the artist was, I would resonate with her drawings. Finally, around 2014, I met the mystery artist and was inspired by her story. Her heart is wide open and pure.

Siren and I spoke of the spiritual discovery of Michael and our journeys. "I started to be afraid to look too hard because I didn’t want my bubble to burst but the closer you look, the more you uncover the vault of love. That vault of love is so huge of a love. It was like expanded love, oneness, universal. I couldn’t contain it. Too much for my mind and body. As I studied about Michael, I expanded. It’s not intellectual, it strikes the soul and bursts the heart open. It took me two years to unravel the threads until my mind could believe what happened.” We agreed that the pain alters us, suffering gives us an opportunity for healing. Siren continued. "Michael felt everything. He had a capacity for emotion that he would transmute into his art. We can transmute dark emotions. We are all here to learn from the anger. " We spoke about his History album and the songs that he created after the false allegations in 1993.

And, Brenda Jenkyns, who traveled with Siren from Canada, came over to hug me and we made a photograph as well. It felt good seeing my old friends… Brenda's artwork is so beautiful to see up close. Her details and colors are so bright and lovely. It made me smile and happy to see her and the latest art.” — Hannah Kozak .

CAMILLA PEADILLA, FROM LOS ANGELES, CREATED THIS SERIES OF PHOTOS OF MICHAEL’S SMILE.

…”It’s been thirteen years without Michael Jackson and today, more than ever, I find it encouraging to see people come from different parts of the world to celebrate him all these years later. The creativity behind the cards, letters, paintings, and flowers inspire me and it feels good to be outside, amongst other people who could feel the love that this man carried within and shared with his music. Michael wasn't just one of the greatest artists to walk this earth. He was a kind, compassionate, generous, heart centered, loving and forgiving soul. He teaches us what's important. We have gone through some dark times the last two years and being at Forest Lawn today gave me a breath of fresh air. I'm grateful I discovered Michael Jackson and the community that he touched. We all have a different story of how we came to know his magic. Mine started after I broke a few ribs on Iron Man 2, the day Michael took his last breath. Sharing our stories brings us together in love which is all Michael ever wanted to do: heal the world. Now, more than ever, our world needs healing and being around others who understood his mission, helps heal my heart.” — Hannah Kozak

@swift-fated @mj-fans-alliance-blog @mjslays @mjvideos @mjjproductionz @mjjsecretlovers-blog @mjjofficial @mjjsourcesblog @anneke-treasure @anniemjjloverr @annievvv7 @annievvv77 @michael-jackson-blog @michaeljacksonslegend @mjkopforever @smellyblanketmjj @lisamjfan777 @caffeinated-chaos-bean @bp2003gaming

[moreinterestingtimes]

Isotyr

Age: 207

Race: Lolth-Sworn Drow

Class: Berserker Barbarian

Gender: trans man

Sexuality: bisexual

Once of a noble House of Menzoberranzan, Isotyr was born the first daughter of his parents, the fourth child. His mother had wanted a girl desperately to carry on the family name and legacy, training Isotyr ferociously to do just that, to be a strong warrior, though still a beautiful and charismatic young woman. Over time Isotyr realized he was not that at all, cringing at the concept of being a daughter even if that was a position of privilege in drow culture. It still did not feel correct for him. On top of that, he had troubles remaining calm in moments of tense political banter, especially when the situation would more or less be fated to end with him slitting the throat of the other person. Why pretend that wasn't the way things were going to turn out? (In modern terms, Isotyr is definitely some sort of neurodivergent that has trouble with social cues).

In a tense encounter of this nature with one of his elder brothers where Isotyr did lose his temper, he stabbed his brother to death with a sword. While she hadn't been thrilled with the technique, his mother was happy to celebrate her "daughter's" first kill, which had happened before "her" hundredth birthday, to make it even more exciting. As she began to plan a feast for family and friends to present Isotyr to society as now a grown woman, Isotyr confessed that he instead felt like a man, and he wanted to instead be presented as the now third son. His mother did not like hearing this, and she instead attempted to take his life. Rage, even stronger than before, entered his body, and he hacked his mother to death with the same sword.

He wandered as an outcast in the underdark for several years, but soon enough found his way to the surface, in towns that would more or less accept him, even if he was sworn to Lolth, because he was shunned by his people. Surface healers and transmutation specialists even helped him to transition in exchange for his protection of their shops or temples. He agreed, and over the course of the next few decades, he was forged into a man of power and a berserker of skill.

He was in Baldur's Gate when he was abducted, taking a job as a mercenary and guard for nobles of the city. They were surprisingly kind to him, and they even treated him more like a knight than simply a hired guard. He was almost accepted as a friend. He wonders what would have happened if the mind flayers not come.

[cosmicangel888]

Ascension Books ~ The Blessings of all Soul Journeys IV

I am finishing the compilation of my journey's and I am so happy to be offering excerpts and timelines, the visions of the play we call life - the characters, the stories, the vibrational healings and the gifts we open, are blessed with as we arise each level of becoming and begin anew -

The culmination of every new cycle, to know that God, you are One; there is eternal loving life and know that god is with you in all faces of what you come to, against, and flow with - there is no us-them, it is fallacy and even though as deep and 'Real' the story may seem - there is nothing more real that you and spirit as one thought - feeling, being, becoming - alchemy in all moments -

What has been so ever-more true with every passing hour; there is a divine source, an essence of all life, the miracles of all life, to all life, there is a Divine God, a voice of gentle knowing, of gentle song, and will answer if you ask, seek, will be your guiding light and the uplifter of your every wish of divine secrets and knowing to great holy wisdoms of the universe and beyond - for there is infinite life, secrets of intelligence, knowing, healing, abundance of soul gifts and sharing - we are stepping into this miracle in every new day -

There is great purpose to life, to all moments, there is great mystery and great magic, there is heavenly blessings and so many beings that adore you in your weakest and in most self loving moments - and why we are all here to show one another a new way to navigate our awakening earth and human family - our stories matter, we matter and we are priceless and deeply honoured by so many as we heal and transcend our limitations and arrogance of separation - it has been a brave path - but one that can be healed and transmuted to such incredible joys and purpose of heart.

My guides said, after years of black magic, voodoo, and games, scheming, and plotting to suppress, silence, stop my path of divine unfolding, 'you have survived what many could not, would not, and for that, we honour you in this journey, we celebrate you, and you are the voice and offering of us all' ~ ancestors and guides

In the severity of what I had survived and although your teams will not let you in on 1/2 of what goes on behind closed scenes, they will only give you what you need to transcend and deeply honour your own process and path - to continue and carry on, and believe in the oneness with God, source and spirit of all that is -

I know of the essence of God, I feel IT, I know It in my way, and all feel God uniquely and my offering is unique to me, and cannot be copied, nor should it be - it is meant to flow and be the challice of change and offering of sacred joy and all else feels its way to new life - as a powerful small floral seed, growing through cement, I grow - I move, I arise - I did not die, I did not surrender to any other's lesser truth of me, or want of me to small and misheard, and unknown, or how dare I receive or know of myself as being valued - how dare I have such feelings of myself - and so too is what I know will be of service to others; move on, get up, and know you are loved, that is enough - keep going, keep moving for you and even if you are the only one speaking what you speak - there will be a night light and a morning kiss from the Heavens - the Heavens will walk with you always

When I was in my 20's, working a very rigorous schedule in a very big city, walking to the doctors ill with pneumonia, which was only about 8 blocks from my office; and upon arriving, I was prescribed with a penicillin and sent to the pharmacy downstairs in the lobby to fill.

As I stood waiting in the line up, I felt myself getting lightheaded and as the room began to spin, spiral, I gauged how far the chair was in front of the line up for the pharmacist taking our prescriptions and to where I was standing - would I make it before I fainted - and well, lets say I fainted right there.

In the line up, within a minute of falling the others standing in line circled around me, and someone handed my prescription to the pharmacist and they called my doctor for advice; I turned my head to the left, and saw as the room continued to spin, and my awareness was in and out of coherence, I saw a strange tall man, a being, so tall, and very very thin, with wild dark hair, and a long flowing coat, like the one worn in the matrix; this being came in from outside, and came directly to me; circled around me twice and chanted a scripture of ancient tongue -

My first thought was, 'I am being read my final prayers before death' and 'what a nice man; ' I oddly thought later - how did a busy business district, in mid day, there be a beautiful being that did such a thing to help me, and the majesty of his chant, and pure intention, helped me to my feet within minutes without any drug, or ambulance, or doctor.

I later found out who this being was and it was not a human, but my family from Sirius, a being that travels with me, in the lightships always above me, and of course with their technology of spirit, they dematerialize and materialize on point, in form, and in whatever way we need them to for whatever needed; and this being, always there for me, when I need them, in my hour of need; it is my spiritual family always there for me;

As I have moved through this chapter of my life, I am moved ever more deeply of the deep commitment of my teams, my guides, and my masters, all the beings that walk with me, the many sisterhoods of divine light, healing, teaching, and the many galactic councils and ships that hover and move with me in nature beyond what any one imagining can conjure - for reality, matter is not really what we think in 3D, 4D, and even 5D - it is far more beautiful and fluid and magical if we allow it -

This being and like many experiences many will have and have had over the years of strange and unique beings that will stick in our memories that when we look back, were divine interventions occurring for our safety, for our own remembrance of how much we are loved, and no different than the Pleiadian experience I had when I was about 5 years old - of the movie stars from HeeHaw Entertainment Show coming to my door one Sunday evening.

This memory was called forth after I had my awakening over sixteen years ago, when I was ready to begin my interactions with my celestial teams, and families, and why we move through the density clearing, the healing for such experiences - for it requires a more able body, mind, open knowing that there is life beyond human form, and more divine majesty that ever thought - and as more and more lightship sightings become prevalent, such awakening stories upon earth will be bathing every entertainment channel and movie house for the recognition we have all been aching for for eons - we are One, and we do belong to a family far grander and so very unconditional than ever thought -

The beings at my door that Sunday night, were not the movie stars but my Pleaidian Family; the Bird People, beings, veiled and cloaked in human form so too not stir concern and freight - higher vibrational beings can cloak themselves in what they know we would not feel shaken about, or out of our skin in, or nervous of fearful of - and this is how preparing for first contact will move about - in strange yet familiar ways, meetings that are simply unexplainable and remembrances of lightship meetings that simply will not leave your consciousness and you just know there is more going on while you sleep than you ever thought -

Just as the many meetings with my teams, I know it will be more and more surreal and why I have survived and maintained my faith and deep love for what many simply disbelieve in - and that is ok, for it is special to have a very divine and intimate encounters that will be more and more on the rise as our collective awakens - © 

Call in your own remembrances - and feel the excitement of healing, through your acceptance of the oneness before each day, you can feel the oneness and acceptance of beings that have a vibration unlike your own and why you must honour the triggers and heal them - for just like my vibration of truth, love, and openness triggers many that are filled with jealousy and hate, so too will the same reactions be for our celestial friends and family - for they speak the same vibrational language of love, self honour, and self healing potentials; their vibration of truth is even more pure and even more loving, unconditional and all must prepare for this - for love is a real vibration and it will trigger what is not operating as such - © 

This is purposeful for the going within and healing - so it is all a beautiful and divine path of self harmonizing and self love.

My teams have, under my agreement, God, and the soul contracts with beings, groups, and so on, such inclusions for me to do what I am here to assist with, my souls unfolding, for humanity, for Gods plan, for many other things, majesties, and such the immediate response team is always with me - they guide me, they heal me, they honour me as I them, it is all held with the vibration of humility and pure open channel as unconditional love for one another - and the vibrations I feel are real and true - that is the path of an empath and sensitive - for the greater good - they are my greater good - and I honour and valued all beings of my support far more that could ever be mentioned in one article or book - for there are beings that have no definition or name and cannot be described -

There is such love on this journey and know dear lighted ones, when you are ready and devoting to your own life of self love, self expression and knowing yourself deeply with God, there is such magical stories you each have and will share in your own fine timing - never rush this path - soak every moment for you and what you are leaving and growing, learning, and embedding within - it is a song, so be free to change, liberate, and sing with and to your own teams, and God - all is as God is, if you allow it -

So be the blessing of the magic One

Love and grace,

Joanna

World Ascension Healing Classes, Intuitive Sessions, Healing Sessions, Ascension Books, Healing Systems, 5D human-socio-altruistic re-write ~

DONATIONS - see our PayPal link here; paypal.me/JoannaLRoss * [email protected]

This is my story -

I am a messenger of the Divine, and the Galactic Assembly of Light, Unity, Oneness, and Love

#ascension

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#firstlandings

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#awakening

#healinghumanity

#survivingtrauma

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#healingvictimhood

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#Youtube

[kopawz]

On October 3rd... you’re going to be seeing a lot of Full Metal Alchemist, I can guarantee you that!

Countless artists and writers have worked together this year to bring you something wonderful to celebrate this anime series that has brought us happy memories we fondly recall, and at the same time- has emotionally smacked us with a baseball bat time and time again.

With this- I bring you previews of the art, and a little description of each scene you’ll soon see this weekend, each piece dedicated to a scene in a story written by a loving fan, and passionate creator!

“Even a single screw out of place could throw an entire arm off, and yet through trial and error, she had managed to figure out how to do this reliably.

Aurora's transmutations were the most beautiful thing Ed had ever seen in his life. Through those brief moments he could somehow see a little Winry, a little him, and a lot of someone entirely new.” (Labyrinth of Shadows, @edisacornball​)

As fun as this dinner was turning out to be, it was clear that if they didn’t behave themselves, even two well-known and respected public figures could be thrown out of a five-star restaurant without an ounce of mercy. (Aching Hours, @movequickly)

When something dire happens so suddenly, it seems like time comes to a standstill for you- but not anybody else. Do they not realize what is about to happen? How dangerous the situation is? A few moments will feel like an eternity until these moments, too, pass. (Aching Hours, @movequickly)

I for one, can’t wait to have my socks blown off by these full stories, and for your socks to be blown off by the wonderful art of others!

#fmabb21 #fma

[marveldc-imagines-hub]

Subtitles: Episode 8, Previously On

Subtitles Masterlist

Summary: As they seek out Vision a Westview that doesn’t seem to want them to find him, more memories from [Y/N]’s past begin to appear. They almost seem drawn out of the dark depths of their mind by some unseen force but it’s hard to tell whether it’s friend or foe. Who is forcing [Y/N]’s memories to the forefront of their mind--Wanda or someone else?--and is it tied to the suddenly hostile Westview blocking them from finding Vision? Who is trying to keep them distracted?

Word count: 6,584

Warnings: Cursing, descriptions of death and declining mental health. Mostly angst, tbh.

Tag list: @madamevirgo @ravennight41 @multifandomgirl16 @cyanide-mustard @badasspolygenderfriend @austynparksandpizza @sophster1881 @haileyybird​ @maceidelic​ @alexpress @angelvinella

Ko-Fi Shoppe

~~~

You were too busy trying to calm the anxious gnawing in your stomach to notice Westview subtly changing around you. It wasn’t until a vine wrapped tightly around your ankle and made you almost trip and fall face-first into a fire hydrant that you looked around with a frown.

    The vine itself—thick, spiky, and definitely not native to the suburbs of New Jersey—had sprouted from cracks in the sidewalk, which spread and opened further as other vines crept after it. After tearing the one holding you off and stepping out of its reach, you noticed the fences of houses reaching far past their yards to create maze-like paths that covered the sidewalks and street ahead of you. The houses that these fences belonged to were also warped in a way that made them look like you were viewing them through funhouse mirrors, stretching far into the sky and bending overhead in your direction like they meant to block you from leaving in that direction—or meant to block you from being seen by anyone flying overhead.

    Your eyebrows arched so far up on your forehead that you weren’t sure that they were still there. “What the fuck is going on?”

    You weren’t as concerned about the magic happening itself—if some random civilian walked by, they’d barely react at all and the maze and houses weren’t causing any actual damage, just being incredibly annoying—as you were by the fact that you couldn’t tell who was doing it. Your first thought was Wanda, naturally, but it made no sense that she’d be trying to keep you from finding Vision when she was the one who’d originally sent you to go get him; not to mention that she’s never created such a bizarre display of magic, at least intentionally. You considered yourself next, as you’ve known yourself to cause random transmutations when you get too antsy, but this wasn’t the type of power that you controlled and when you tried to reach out to interact with the energy, you received opposition instead of energy bending to your will. It was somewhat difficult to pick out because it seemed to hide away under the blanket of Wanda’s magic that reached across everything in Westview, but the aura of the twisted architecture surrounding you was dark and hostile.

    You first attempted to humor whatever magic was at play and made your way through the maze but as you did so, the fences shifted around you to extend their white picket prison. You stopped and sighed. “The end is nigh… and I am not going to spend it dealing with this shit.”

    A little voice in the back of your head told you that you could probably set fire to the whole magic mirror setup and be done with it but you ultimately decided against it; Wanda would probably find out and definitely wouldn’t be happy when she did. Instead, you placed your hands on the fence and as you did so, posts morphed into gates that you could easily pass through. You continued through the maze via this method and were surprised to feel the opposing magic back away from you after your pushback.

    “Oh, thank god,” you grumbled under your breath as you made it through the last of the maze. 

Unfortunately, you celebrated too early as the cement underneath your feet suddenly began to melt back into its liquid form. It would have been fairly easy to use your powers to reharden the cement but exhausting yourself fighting with the opposing force until the sidewalks of Westview shifted into grassy fields on its outskirts seemed like a bad idea in the long run, especially with the twins’ disappearance, Wanda dealing with Agnes’s strange behavior, Monica’s return, and the warning churn of your stomach telling you to stay alert. So, you settled for trudging along through wet cement until the magic decided to back off again.

Not so much trying to cause damage as it’s trying to mildly inconvenience me, is it? you thought.

Just as before, once the magic trying to keep you distracted was rivaled by your own, it receded and you were soon walking on the regular, hard sidewalk once more. You cleaned your pants and shoes up by turning the wet cement still clinging to them into something much more manageable—water—and continued on your way. Sorting through the mix of concern, nips of mild hunger, and the energy-seeking compass in the center of your now twisting in every which direction, you managed to eventually focus back into the feeling of Vision somewhere in the distance. It got stronger as you walked, so you began to pick up the pace.

Then your unseen opponent returned, stronger and now in the mental realm instead of the physical. At first, you thought the kickback was just Westview’s borders—the Hex, Monica had called it—trying to right the wrongs of someone within it having memories of the outside world, something you’d experienced before. However, you felt the menace rippling underneath the surface of the haze and when you tried to fight back this time, you were met with an angry strength. The fog making your head feel heavy seemed to spread through your bloodstream and take home in your bones, weighing your body down until you stood still and lame in the middle of a random neighborhood. You were a prisoner in your own body; you couldn’t move even if you wanted to, but you didn’t even know if you did because your brain was so full of dark storm clouds that you couldn’t think straight. You knew that you stared slack-jawed into space but it felt more like you were sitting in a dark room inside your skull and watching the outside world from a TV screen. As you watched on, the fog that took over your mind and body took your eyesight too.

===

===

===

The first few memories were fleeting. 

You were a few years old and holding your mother’s hand. It was much less boney and knotted than you remembered your mother’s hand being, as was the rest of her. She was younger and stronger, standing next to you in a worn nurse uniform and overcoat and staring ahead with a scowl, concealing whatever emotions she was feeling otherwise. You were in a bedroom that was only vaguely familiar to you and the two of you watched an old man that was barely more than a skeleton slept under a heap of fraying blankets. As you stared on through the wide eyes of your child self, your grandfather heaved a final breath before falling into a deep, eternal slumber.

A couple of years older, you were in the old but cozy, sunny yellow kitchen that your mom love to cook in. You sat at the dining room table, kicking your legs and picking at the splitting wood as your mother and a stranger argued in the other room. You had never heard your mother raise her voice to such an extent before but at the time, you were much more concerned about what kind of sandwich you were going to help her make for lunch. You never saw the stranger aside from a flash of [H/C] as he left and he was never seen or heard of again.

You were still in the kitchen but its appearance had changed ever so slightly. Yours did too, as you were a teenager now, and now your mother sat across from you at the table. Though she was still healthy now, her overall haggard appearance would be one that she carried on for years to come. She was telling you about her doctor’s appointment but you were only somewhat listening as you were stressed about high school drama and final assignments to be turned in before summer break. You heard words like “dementia” and “Alzheimer’s” but the meanings were lost on you in that moment.

Then you were in a nursing home. You could feel the harsh lighting, hear the TV from the lounge behind you. The smell of cleaning supplies burned your nostrils but the smell of your mother’s stale perfume soothed it. Unfortunately, nothing could soothe the ache that made your heart feel like it was going to shrivel up and die when you came to tell her that you changed your major in college so you would be better equipped to help her, only for her unable to recall having a child at all.

You were pinned against a wall in a Sokovian HYDRA base, although you didn’t know the organization that you were studying with was HYDRA at the time. Shivers of equal parts fear and exhilaration made your entire body quiver and the clipboard you’d been holding clattered to the ground. While a large group of Sokovian war protestors had to hunch together to fit in the cramped and cold holding room, Wanda seemed to take up the majority of the space just from her spot of holding you into place. Her hair was a mess and her face and clothes were dirty but her eyes were full of more life than you’d experienced during your entire time working in the base. She was angry and determined and powerful and gorgeous, and she told you that if you ever ran into her again that she’d kill you—and you were surprised with how okay you were about the idea, as long as you got to see her again. When she let you go and you apologized, she told you what she and the others were doing here; this was the catalyst that sent you investigating into HYDRA and finding out about their much more sinister nature, as well as the pain you’d helped cause.

Finally, the slide show of memories slowed and instead of being confined to your brain, you were back in your own body—or so you thought until you looked around and found yourself staring at a younger copy of yourself. Instead of Westview, you were in a HYDRA testing room, and instead of simply re-experiencing, you were quite literally watching a memory unfold around you as if you were an unwanted audience member standing around the active set of a TV show. Or a ghost, you decided, as the younger you walked through you as if you were nothing but air.

Your younger self was dressed in an all-black work uniform and lab attire, with an identification card clipped to your chest that granted you high-level clearance. You’d worked immensely hard playing HYDRA’s game to get to where you were now, which was standing in the control room with two other agents and preparing to analyze the test about to unfold on the other side of a large glass window. In the test chamber, a door slowly slid open and Wanda, unkempt and spacey, entered.

You wanted to break her out. Judging by the way your younger self tensed up—not enough to be noticed by your superiors; you’d mastered your mother’s emotional lockdown of a scowl at this point—your feelings weren’t far off from the initial experience. 

Wanda made her way farther into the room, closer to a scepter with a glowing blue stone that was being held on a pedestal. As she did so, the younger you readied their clipboard and pen to take notes and one of the two agents spoke, “For our notes, Miss Maximoff, can you please state your name and confirm your status?”

The younger copy of your current partner did as she was told. “Wanda Maximoff. Volunteer.”

“Begin experimentation,” the other agent—a doctor and one of your immediate superiors—stated.

“Doctor,” the first man said, “with respect, not one subject has survived direct contac—”

He was broken off as the doctor flicked on the intercom to speak to Wanda again. “Touch the sample.”

Wanda made her way forward but before she could do much, the stone suspended in the scepter—the mind stone, you knew now—detached itself and floated towards her. As it got closer, its glow grew brighter and bright blue magic wafted over Wanda as she stared before reaching out to touch it. While you remembered this situation thus far, what happened next was completely new to you. The mind stone shattered before Wanda’s eyes, revealing yellow golden yellow magic that poured from the remains. There was an explosion of light and within it was a flash of a shadow. From where you were standing, you couldn’t quite make out the shape.

Then the light died and Wanda collapsed, and the rest of the memory ran as you remembered. The scientist and doctor ran out to check that Wanda was still alive, while your younger self recollected themselves enough to take pictures of notes and research reports from the control desk with an old school digital camera that they’d managed to sneak in.

“Well,” a familiar, incredibly out-of-place voice sounded from behind you, “that’s a surprise. I had no idea you and [Y/N] went so far back.”

You spun around to see Agnes and a modern Wanda standing just behind you. Agnes watched your echo with mild curiosity as they carefully rifled through the control desk and gathered as much information as they could to examine at a later time. The dark energy that radiated off the woman was the same that you’d sensed earlier, hiding just underneath Wanda’s own. Being this close to the unhidden source now, the magic felt sharp and acidic and tasted like bile on the back of your tongue. The anxiety that had been gnawing at your stomach increased tenfold as your guts twisted around themselves. It had been Agnes all along.

Past you finished their investigation as they were called in to take Wanda to solitary by one of the other HYDRA agents. When they rushed out of the control room, they passed through Wanda and Agnes, confirming that the women were in a similar state of being to you.

Surprisingly, Agnes was completely unaware of current you’s presence. She walked casually over to the desk and attempted to make sense of younger you’s rummaging before making a face and shrugging.

Wanda, on the other hand, was staring directly at you. To anyone else, it could be said that she was simply looking through you who the commotion happening in the test chamber, but when you met her gaze, the slightest of jaw clenches told you otherwise. While it was Agnes—Not Agnes, a ghost of a whisper in sounded in your head—whose magic had been toying with you, it seemed that it was Wanda’s doing, at least to some extent, that brought you to watch this scene with them. 

“You know,” the ravenette said, “I really did like them for a while. They were fun to string along for entertainment, and they were a hoot at events and to run errands with. Such an awkward little thing. I could see their crush from a mile away whenever you three were around each other. I just thought they’d be the out-of-place, pining neighbor whose love was unrequited, a comedic plot device of sorts. I didn’t think you would actually return their feelings, let alone both you and your husband, you naughty dogs. I should have known sooner that something was up.”

You and me both, sister, you thought with a soundless snort.

“Oh well,” Agnes—question mark?—said with another shrug, “our friendship was fun while it lasted. Let me know if you ever get bored with them. We did often flirt a bit, [Y/N] and I.”

“What do they have to do with any of this?” Wanda asked, throwing a mild glower in the other woman’s direction.

“Why don’t you tell me?” Agnes responded with a sickly sweet smile, then walked past Wanda and out of the testing room. “Come along, dear! We’ve got much more digging to do.”

Wanda glanced at you one last time before following. After a moment, you trailed after them.

===

===

===

Past Wanda was sitting and watching sitcoms via the one amenity she had the dungeon-like room she was held in when your past self walked in.

“Wanda,” past you gasped and moved to rush to her side before freezing and throwing a glance towards a security camera in one corner of the room. The faintest blue-black light danced appeared to dance around your echo’s fingers as the lens of the camera warped and changed into a round silver disc, then the light disappeared and you watched yourself hurry to younger Wanda’s side. 

She didn’t acknowledge you until you placed a gentle hand on her back. She jumped a bit and turned her glassy-eyed, hollow-cheeked face towards you; in the same instant, the TV turned off. 

Past Wanda offered past you a wobbly smile that you returned. You reached into your pocket and pulled out a candy wrapped in colored foil that looked neon in comparison to the dull coloring of the rest of the environment.

“Hey, look, Wanda,” you tried, offering the candy to her, “I brought you something. Remember these? You told me once that they’re your favorite.”

Wanda stared blankly at your gift. After a moment, she took it and began picking at the foil.

Past you gave past Wanda another strained smile. Your furrowed brows caused deep lines to be etched into your forehead, showing no lack of concern, but you tried to stay positive. Gingerly running your hand up and down Wanda’s back, you carefully looked over as she freed the chocolate-covered candy from its wrapper. “You look good. You’re doing much better than you were when we brought you back.”

Wanda’s eyes lazily traced the pattern of the room’s stone walls as she brought her treat to her lips and carefully nibbled at it. When she found it free of tampering, she relaxed a bit and popped it into her mouth.

You watched as your past self rested their chin on her shoulder and squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m going to get you out of here, Wanda. I promise that I’m going to save you. I just… wish you’d let me help you more.”

Well, young me, you thought, you certainly broke that promise, then went off and murdered a bunch of people. Nice job.

Wanda’s past self finally fully acknowledged yours; she rested her head on top of yours and her thin fingers brushed brushed over the knuckles of one of your hands. She shook her head and mumbled, “I have to do this. For my people.”

Your echo sighed. The two of you sat like that together for a few moments longer before you separated yourself from her and headed out of the room. As you walked out of the room, the silver that blocked the security camera transformed back into a lens. Wanda looked back to the TV and blinked, and the television turned back on.

“Huh,” Agnes piped up to Wanda again, “they were just as piney here as they are in Westview then. Weird. I thought they had a reputation as a crazy psycho killer outside? Hoo boy, did you see any of the work that they did after Sokovia? I looked into it when I figured out that they weren’t just another ordinary townee. The Alchemist? Wished I’d managed to keep them on my side; I’d love to sit down and talk about all the ways they tore up those agents.”

You grimaced. You never regretted going on a HYDRA manhunt but it wasn’t exactly one of your most redeeming qualities.

Wanda frowned. “Trying to cope with all they had done while working with HYDRA was too much and they had to do it alone. I told [Y/N] I would return but then I never did. They thought it was their only solution.”

You were surprised to hear her empathize with you, let alone know about your revenge spree at all. You hadn’t realized how much it felt like a secret that you had been keeping from her until a weight was lifted off your shoulders when she talked about it.

“Still,” Agnes said nonchalantly, “turning an alive former HYDRA agent into a very much not alive scarecrow and leaving posting him up in his own field? Genius and I love the creativity. And the way they turned the guy who shot them into a bloody bag of bones? Delicious.

“But anyway,” she went on, the glee in her voice shifting to something more pensive, “little orphan Wanda got up close and personal with an Infinity Stone that amplified what otherwise would’ve died on the vine. The broken pieces of you are adding up, buttercup. I have a theory, but I need more.”

With a wave of her hand, a dark wood door appeared in the room’s far wall. Wanda’s eyes widened slightly with recognition and she immediately walked forward and through it. Agnes trailed cheerfully after her.

You made a move to follow them but you didn’t make it before Agnes shut the door behind her. You jiggled the doorknob but the door wouldn’t budge, and then it melted back into the wall and vanished altogether. While you were relieved to be away from Agnes’s acrid magic, panic rose in the back of your throat at the idea of Wanda being alone with Agnes and you being trapped in a bizarre memory realm with no idea of how to get out. You ran your hands along the wall in hopes of finding the door’s outline once more, to no avail. You spun around to search for another route—

—and you were suddenly standing on a street in Westview. 

This wasn’t Westview as you currently knew it but Westview before Wanda had turned it into her special little safe haven. Instead of watching this memory like a movie, you were now involuntarily reliving it as a prisoner of your head again as your body and mouth move on its own accord.

You were paused mid-walk across the street and staring at a breathtakingly gleeful Vision for the very first time. He was standing out in the open without a human disguise of any kind, wearing a very attractive form-fitting turtleneck and looking over an empty plot of land. He must have felt you staring because he turned his warm, earth-shaking gaze towards you.

“Hello there!” he hollered with a friendly wave and a smile that made you wonder if one look from a stranger could make you weep over how attractive they were. He stepped from the dirt plot to the sidewalk, then made his way to the curb. He held a slightly crumpled piece of paper in one hand and you could see a red heart in its center out of the corner of your eye.

For whatever reason—maybe because of the fact that there was a very inhuman-looking man, who was causing your body to have all sorts of reactions, walking towards you—you felt compelled to walk over and meet him. 

“Excuse me,” Vision said as you got closer and pointed to the lot behind him, “I’m looking to buy this spot here. Do you live around here?”

Temporarily, while I try to look for a cure for my dumb-bitch memory disease, you thought. Instead of saying this aloud, though, you said something much more stupid. “Are you aware that you’re red?”

Vision blinked. He looked at his hands if he was in fact just now realizing this, then looked back at you with wide eyes. One hand moved to touch the golden gem embedded in his forehead, which you now connected to the mind stone on the previous memory that you had experienced—Wanda’s memory. 

“Oh, goodness,” Vision said, “yes I am. I’m sorry, I hope my appearance doesn’t make you uncomfortable. If it does, I could make a more appealing one—”

You felt yourself break into a grin and one of your hands waved itself dismissively at him. “Not sure there’s a way to make yourself any more appealing than you already are. It’s just unusual is all.”

Vision chewed on one side of his bottom lip before smiling sheepishly at you. If only you’d been able to tell when this interaction had actually happened that he was “blushing” in the only way his synzethoid body allowed over you complimenting him; you would have had a field day with making him flustered.

Then his eyes drifted slightly above your eyeline and the hand touching his forehead gem fluttered slightly to the right—his left. Without thinking of how it might come off, he said, “You’re unusual-looking yourself.”

Luckily, you weren’t too easily offended. You briefly touched the gunshot scar on your forehead with one hand, the exit wound scar on your neck with the other, before dropping them both and shrugging. “Got shot in the head once. Operation gone wrong.”

“A soldier?” 

Unfortunately, the version of you in this memory was already struggling to recall memories. Instead of telling the pretty stranger that, though, you said, “Something like that.”

Vision nodded and awkwardly fiddled with the paper in his hands. His gaze flitted around before settling on you again, “Well, I think you’re appealing too.”

You felt your cheeks grow warm but you hid your embarrassment with a snicker. “Thanks.”

The man cleared his throat. “Yes, well, that’s good then, isn’t it? That we both like each other’s looks just fine. Not… that I want you to find my visuals appealing. Not— not that that’s a bad thing to be doing so either! It’s just that—” he paused to collect himself. “I have a partner. A girlfriend of sorts.”

“Of sorts?”

“It hasn’t really been discussed,” he clarified, “but we are deep in the throughs of our relationship.”

“Congrats? Also yeah.”

Vision blinked. “I’m sorry?”

You pointed over your shoulder. “I live around here. In a hotel more often than a home but I’m considering getting a rental a couple houses over.”

Because if I don’t find who I’m looking for—a doctor? Scientist maybe?—I’ll be stuck here until I remember where I came from.

    You were brought out of your grumbling thoughts by the childish excitement that erupted from Vision’s shining smile and spread throughout his body until he was practically vibrating. He quickly scrambled the rest of the way over and flashed the paper he held at you, then almost immediately folded it up before you could actually see anything other than a flash of red on white. He told you how wonderful it was to be meeting someone from the neighborhood and before you open your mouth to say anything in response, a billion questions seemed to pour one after the other from his mouth. You caught a few—did you know why the plot he was looking at was open, if there was a nefarious reason behind it lacking any home already? Was the neighboorhood safe, did you like it there?—but you soon found yourself distracted by the way the gear-like patterns in his blue irises swirled faster as Vision became increasingly giddy.

    Then one word came flying out of his rambling mouth and you felt like you had been hit in the gut with a sack of bricks. You actually had to stop yourself from choking on a gasping breath and steel yourself in preparation in case he said her name again. Luckily, Vision seemed too deep in his his own thoughts that he didn’t notice you blanching from the kickback of yours.

    Wanda? It couldn’t be. It wasn’t like there weren’t any other Wandas in the world. Then again, you’d never met another Wanda since your Wanda and there was something about her name coming from his mouth that assured you that his Wanda was yours too.

    Is that why you had come to Westview? Was Wanda the one you were looking for?

    You placed a hand on Vision’s shoulder, both as a way of grounding yourself and grabbing the man’s attention. It worked and Vision’s bumbling died off as he looked at you with wide eyes.

    “I’m so sorry,” he said, and lifted his free hand to scratch at the side of his neck, “I got quite carried away there, didn’t I?”

    This past version of you wanted so desperately ask about the Wanda he spoke of, to confirm that she was the Wanda that you’d known in what seemed to be a past life at this point. You wanted to know if she was safe, happy, and if he was taking care of her in the way that she so needed after everything she had been through. When you looked at Vision, though, and the plot plans in his hand and the place of his and her future home, you bit your tongue. Something told you that it wasn’t your time to ask nor was it your right to do so. It had been so long since you’d tried to help the Sokovian woman escape a dingy HYDRA base and failed, and wherever she was now, she was probably better off without you intruding.

    You put on a mask of a friendly smile to hide the way your heart was being picked to pieces by a thousand imaginary needles and gave Vision’s shoulder an equally friendly pat. “No worries. I do have to stop you, though, have an appointment to get to. I’m really not the person to ask about future home life—like I said, usually a hotel—but if I have anything to tell you, it’s that this is a good place to settle.”

    Vision beamed. “Really?”

    You dropped your arm and stepped away from the robotic stranger to take your leave. “This place is easy to turn into a home. You’ll love it here.”

    Vision heaved a sigh a relief and he waved to you and you gave a parting nod and began walking. “Thank you! Oh, and it was nice meeting you, neighbor! Hope to see you again soon!”

    Something deep in your heart told you that you wouldn’t be seeing the British gentleman again, or maybe you were finally coming to terms with the fact that your brain would drop yoru memory of him before the day was over. You cast one last glance over your shoulder, trying to commit every detail of Vision to memory the best that you could, before heading back across the street.

    “Looking forward to it!”

===

===

===

    One minute you were walking and the next you couldn’t feel any part of your body that was below your waistline. The scene had shifted again and you now found yourself staring spacily off ahead. You were outside and you felt the familiar presence of a large facility behind you but you couldn’t place what the building was for or why you were there. In fact, try as you might, you couldn’t place much meaning to anything. Your brain was blank aside from several questions that you had no answers to.

    Why were you in a wheelchair? What had happened to your legs? Why were you outside? Why were there old people and people in scrub uniforms milling around you and talking to you in passing as if you had any idea who they were? Where was your mom? You had classes to attend and needed a ride.

    You took a sighing breath and felt a tanginess of citrus on your tongue that sent shockwaves throughout your body—or what left of it that you could feel. Your eyes shot open wide and you swung your head around, looking for the source of the taste of candied citrus, the feeling of thin fingers carefully brushing across your knuckles. There was a memory there, clawing just under the surface of thought-killing fungus that seemed to have taken over your head over… however long it had been now. You just had to remember—

    Before you could could remember, you saw her appear before your very eyes. She was walking down the street past you with only a green yard and strip of sidewalk separating the two of you. She wore a dark outfit and her hair cascaded behind her in the breeze, fluttering like flames. You couldn’t see her face well because of the distance you could feel the deep, powerful sadness radiating off her in waves; it was almost strong enough to force you into tears. Still, she walked with purpose and she held a piece of paper in her hand that she glanced at every other second. She happened to turn her head to toss a stray chunk of her back over her shoulder and for a brief moment you thought that her dark eyes met yours.

    You screamed her name and attempted to chase after her. However, in that moment, you forgot that you were paralyzed from the waist down and stuck in a wheelchair, so when you lurched forward to stand, you were quickly greeted by hard earth knocking the wind out of you. You hissed in pain but the impact didn’t stop you, nor did your lack of working legs. You shoved the wheelchair away in a fit of irritation, then began crawling your way across the public yard, following a trail of a very specific shade of red as you dragged your body along.

    You didn’t make it very far before you felt strong hands grasp your shoulders. You flailed around, prepared to fight whoever was trying to disrupt your mission, only for you stop struggling altogether when a flash of reddish hair appeared in the corner of your vision. You looked up at and stared at the only face that held solidity in your mind with eyes the size of dinner plates as she knelt next to you and helped you into a decent sitting position. Once you were settled, her hands moved from your arms to cradling your face and when you could see the heartbreak in her eyes this time, you actually did feel a few tears wet your cheeks.

    Your eyes fluttered shut as her gentle hands caressed your face, brushed away the tears that were now flowing like a waterfall. Your own hands found their way to her waist and you held on for dear life. With a wobbly voice that was barely above a whisper, you gasped her name again, “Wanda…”

    You felt the warm touch of her forehead pressing against yours, her nose ungracefully bumping against your cheek as she held you. “[Y/N]?”

    Hearing your name on her tongue sent you into a fit of sobbing laughter, though you weren’t sure why. Goosebumps erupted across your skin and you felt the stuttering of a billion bird’s wings in your stomach, pounding against your ribcage. You had so many things you wanted to say and yet you could remember a single word, so you merely fell into a bumbling chant of “My Wanda, my Wanda, my Wanda, my Wanda…” Your eyes stayed squeezed shut for fear that if you opened them, she would no longer be there. 

    Wanda’s lips brushed against your eyelids and then your cheeks, not quite leaving kisses but a warm, tingly feeling nonetheless. A smile was there, you could feel the curve of it as her mouth traveled from your temple to your hairline, but it was one of the same sadness that you’d seen in her eyes. She mumbled against your scarred forehead, “Oh, [Y/N], what happened to you…?”

    You finally opened your eyes—luckily, she didn’t vanish into thin air once you did—and finally met her gaze again. You moved your hands to cover hers that still held your face and pressed them harder against your cheeks, as if you could imprint her fingerprints into your skin.

    After a moment of just silently basking in her presence, you sighed softly and replied, “I don’t know.”

    Pain further etched itself into the lines of Wanda’s face; you quickly reached out to smooth them out with your fingertips.

    “You don’t remember anything?”

    “Not much,” you replied. Then you smiled. “I know you. All I know for sure is you.”

    Wanda looked like she was on the verge of bursting into tears herself but she swallowed her sobs instead. She adjusted her position and sat back slightly, scrubbed her hands over her eyes and looked around at your surroundings. She glanced at the paper she’d once been holding but now sat in the grass next to her before her gaze settled back on you. Sadness shifted into determination as she took your face her hands once more.

    “I’m going to get you out of here, [Y/N],” she said, “I promise I’m going to save you.”

    You went to nod but the sound of something flying overhead caught your attention, then a flash of yellow light over Wanda’s shoulder.

    A powerful jerk in your stomach seemed to control your entire body, forcing your head and body upward. Then you were standing on the sidewalk on the outskirts of a neighborhood with a maze of twisted houses and picket fences behind you. You were no longer trapped inside your own head, watching or reliving memories, but standing mid-step in the Westview that was bubbled by a Hex of modern Wanda’s own creation.

    Vision was flying through the air nearby and approaching fast.

    Your powers seemed to move one step ahead of your mind; before you finished the thought, one of the fun mirror houses was turned into a staircase that led to nowhere in the sky. As you turned and began racing up them, you waved your arms in Vision’s direction and hollered, “Hey! Toaster oven!”

    Vision was clearly on a mission home but you managed to catch his attention before he flew too far past you. He rounded back around and met you at the top of your stairs. He quickly surveyed your immediate surroundings, taking in the bizarre scenery before casting a concerned look your way. “What in the world is going on here?”

    “Uh, well,” you paused and took a glance around yourself, then rambled off, “I just spent a nondescript amount of time trapped in a mental live-action remake of my past and I’m pretty sure Agnes is not Agnes but some unpleasant, magic-y person who kidnapped our kids and now is trying to get… something, I’m not sure what, from Wanda. Also, I think she might have a crush on me and I’m pretty sure she caused the carnival set-up next to us.”

    Vision blinked. “Well, that’s… a lot.”

    You hummed your agreement and nodded. Then you held out your arms to him. “Shall we?”

    Vision eyed you from your place on a freshly mutated staircase then snorted softly as he gathered you into his arms, bridal style. “Surely there must be a way for you to travel with those powers of yours.”

    “There is,” you affirmed, “but this is probably faster and I should probably keep my strength to save our kids and your wife. Oh, by the way.”

    Vision gave you a questioning him as he prepared for flight. You wrapped your hands around his neck and brought your lips to his in an quick kiss. When you pulled away, you met his curious gaze and said, “I’m so happy to have met you.”

    Vision’s expression grew warmer and returned your kiss with a softer one of his own. He briefly nuzzled his forehead against yours before pulling away.

    “I’m glad to have met you too,” he said softly. Then he shifted his gaze to look past you, towards home, and he said, “Now, let’s go get our family.”

#marvel #marvel x reader #marvel headcanons #marvel imagines #mcu #mcu x reader #mcu imagines #mcu headcanons #wandavision #wandavision x reader #wandavision imagines #wandavision headcanons #poly!wandavision #poly wandavision #gender neutral reader #reader insert #fanfiction #scarlet witch #vision #marvel vision #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch imagines #scarlet witch headcanons #wands maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagines #wanda maximoff headcanons #vision x reader #vision imagines #vision headcanons

[midnighter13]

the world in mutable delight

Y'all I'm so full of feelings. So many of them. Anyway I've been shouting about Caleb using his Transmuter's Stone on Molly to anyone who will listen for actual years so now, please have more soft pre-widomauk feelings about it.

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31672169

The process of recovery, Caleb knows, can be a strange one. Of course, there is hardly anyone stranger than the singular Mollymauk Tealeaf, to begin with. Between the circumstances of his deaths, his lives, and all the magic that brought him back to them, it is hardly a surprise that he needs some time to gather up all the patchwork pieces of himself again. Caleb has no doubt that he will reclaim everything he wishes to, in time; after all, he has never known anyone better at creating beauty from shattered glass. The massive stained-glass tribute within his tower is as close as Caleb could come to capturing the artistry with which Molly created his style and his life and his whole self, and seeing him in vivid, vibrant life again has reminded Caleb that even his best effort could never possibly do him justice.

It is best that way, though. Mollymauk Tealeaf should never be captured in something so still as glass, so static as paint. A whirling dervish of color and laughter and terrible ideas and sheer wonder needs a living canvas to flourish, and thanks to a miracle, he has that chance again.

 One day soon perhaps, Caleb would like to ask Molly about the decor of the tower. He is still fond of his best effort, the beauty that Molly’s memory lends to his library, but it needn’t be the same forever. It would be equally wonderful to listen to Mollymauk create something new, to see if Caleb can create with magic what Molly’s endless font of color and bullshit can imagine.

… Of course, that would require Caleb to overcome the way his mind goes blank every time he thinks about approaching Molly. There are so many things he wants to say, needs to say where Molly can hear him this time, but he doesn’t seem to have the language to express the maelstrom of emotions trapped inside his chest. There is so much happiness and relief and affection and amusement and delight and and and— 

And it is all stopped at the back of his throat by the sharp point of the memory that springs up every time, the fact that the manifestation of all of Caleb’s magic, all of his drive and talent and hope and hunger, failed when Molly needed him. Again. Nine months ago, on Glory Run Road, Caleb’s magic was not enough to keep him alive. And two days ago, in the crumbling city in the Astral Sea, Caleb’s magic was not enough to bring him back.

So. There are a few things he must grapple with himself, before he can indulge in everything he wants to say to Molly.

It has been fairly easy to hang back, so far. He has managed to distance himself enough from the celebrations to keep from spilling his heart across the ground at Mollymauk’s feet. Simply looking at him, vibrant and energetic again, is enough to sustain him—simply hearing his voice, the handful of words he speaks with endless inflections, is a feast when he has been starving. So Caleb stands a handful of feet away at all times, and watches the rest of his family hug and touch and reconnect until his eyes go dry.

The first night of their return to the Material Plane would have been no good, anyway. With how tired they all are, how nearly broken and still very bruised each and every body among them is, it is not the time to show Molly around the whole tower. There will be time for that later, always time for that later, to his greatest elation—later, he will take Molly by the hand and show him everything that he built, every piece of his heart that he conjures to house his friends, his family. He will show him that no matter the time that passed, he kept Molly safe in his mind and gave him a place here, always waiting for him to come home. 

But that will have to wait until Caleb’s hands no longer shake with the phantom weight of his Transmuter’s Stone; and besides, he would have to wait anyway until Molly and Yasha willingly part from each other, and those two certainly have shown no signs of budging from each other’s sides, not through the exhausted pile the (whole, finally whole) Mighty Nein slept in that first night, nor at meals with the welcoming Clay family the next day, nor the hours full of odd conversation and new acquainting and re-familiarizing that followed. There has been plenty to occupy Molly upon his return, more than enough to let Caleb sit outside of arm’s reach and drink in everyone else’s stories, and pretend that his heart has not leapt every time Molly’s bright, lively eyes have turned to him and lingered in return.

Now, basking in the afternoon sun on the second bright day since their family saved the world and was made whole, Caleb knows that he should be taking more action to recover his arcane stores. But each time he tells himself that he will get up and look for a suitable stone, his throat becomes tight again. He makes excuses to Essek, to Veth, when they ask: they are safe here in the Grove so he does not need the protection it grants him; they are among a family that seems very partial to glowing crystals as light sources, so he is in no rush to regain the darkvision he lost with the Eyes; why bother to make himself quicker to move, when they are all enjoying a well-earned rest? Neither of them question him further on it, though there is deep understanding in Essek’s eyes and a shrewd worry in Veth’s. They let him lie back and look up at the endlessly-shifting canopy of green, and try to reorganize his thoughts in peace.

Someone, however, does not abide by that peace. Only a half-hour into his meditation, and having made very little progress in unsnarling his tangled heart, Caleb hears the soft sound of bare feet on moss approach, and stop beside him. When he turns his head, there, of course, is Mollymauk.

“Magician,” Molly says firmly, and plunks himself down on the ground beside Caleb’s head. He settles in, wiggling his toes in the moss. One foot has nails freshly painted in bright teall, the other in charming pink. Both colors, of course, suit him perfectly. Then he says, “Mister Caleb,” with a widening grin, and Caleb’s breath catches once more in his throat.

“Hallo, Mister Mollymauk,” he says in return, the smallest greeting that settles sweetly on his tongue. He pushes himself upright, and turns to face Molly in kind. “Your words are returning to you, it seems.”

“Some,” Molly says, and the word that is not empty is accompanied by a decisive little nod. It takes effort, it seems, but Mollymauk has always been an obstinate individual. Regaining all his words may be like trying to pick up pieces of confetti one at a time, but if Mollymauk wants them back he will have the time to do so now. And hopefully, his friends can continue to help.

“That is very good to hear,” Caleb replies, and he cannot stop the smile that spreads across his face at Molly’s pleased expression.

“Magician,” Molly repeats, and holds out a closed fist between them. Caleb hesitates, unsure if this is a greeting or a request—then Molly shakes his hand a little, impatiently, and Caleb obligingly holds out his own open palm beneath it. Mollymauk’s tail swishes in broad strokes behind him, and he opens his hand to drop something into Caleb’s palm.

A blue-grey stone the size of a hen’s egg hits his palm with a soft sound. There is no ring around this one like his first, but when it catches the light it sparkles with countless tiny deposits of mica, glittering like stars. Caleb blinks at it, then up at Mollymauk. “Ah… thank you?”

“Magician,” Molly insists; then, after a pause, “lucky,” accompanied by that little flicker of his fingers that he used many times before, whenever he mentioned how little he understood about magic or asked Caleb if he could cast a spell. And perhaps it is not elegant, no kind of official communication that even a Comprehend Language could parse, but Caleb understands him perfectly, and his throat stings as though he might cry.

“Oh,” he says, and stares down at the stone in his hand. “Th-thank you, Molly. How did you know…?”

“Joy—” Molly clears his throat, a quick little cough and a wrinkle of his nose that spells frustration with his voice. “Jester,” he says carefully, clearly, “told me. What—hmm. Happened. Empty—”

He takes a deep breath, seems to gather his thoughts. He reaches out and closes Caleb’s fingers around the rock in his palm. “Empty,” he says again, softer now. Then he says, “Caleb,” and brings his hand up and presses his lips to Caleb’s fingers.

Caleb’s heart is nearly tripping with how quickly it hums. His ears are hot, and he knows that the afternoon sun cannot be to blame in the pleasant shade of the Grove. “Molly,” he says, helplessly. “Molly, I—I’m sor—”

Molly’s tail smacks gently into his knee. His eyes narrow as he looks up at Caleb, somewhere between playful and warning. Caleb swallows hard. He takes in the sight of Mollymauk’s face before him, and memorizes the new weight of the stone in his hand.

“Ja, okay,” he manages. “I can use this, Molly. Thank you.”

“Ja, ja,” Molly says, grinning wide and cheeky once again, and the laugh that bursts from Caleb feels like lightness, like relief, like forgiveness.

Molly is still smiling at him, his tail tapping softly against the moss. He releases Caleb’s hand from his grasp, the stone safely inside. Then he puts one hand up and crooks his finger at Caleb, in a universal gesture of come here.

Obligingly, Caleb leans forward, narrowing the space between them and trying very hard not to blush all the way to the roots of his hair. Molly puts his hand on the side of Caleb’s face—warm, his touch is so warm and firm and real again. It’s almost enough to distract him, enough that it takes him by surprise when Molly leans forward and kisses him firmly on the forehead. Then he lingers there, and Caleb lets his eyes close just for the moment as he memorizes the feeling of being here, with Mollymauk Tealeaf, safe and happy once more.

When Molly sits back, he folds his hands in his lap, contentment written so plainly across his face that he hardly needs the words to say it. Caleb thinks of five things he could say, a dozen, a hundred possibilities like fragments of fate. But Molly only has so many words to give, and it is better, for right now, that Caleb can speak his language in return.

He holds up his free hand and crooks his finger at Mollymauk in the same gesture of come here. Molly’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and his tail patters rapidly against his shin—but he leans forward, a smile lurking at the corners of his lips, just enough to show the dimples in his cheeks and the light dancing in his eyes. Caleb puts his hand to Molly’s cheek, and gives in to the temptation to run his thumb gently along the vibrant peacock feather there. Molly’s smile grows wide, showing teeth and crinkling the corners of his eyes, as Caleb leans forward and presses his lips gently to Molly’s forehead. He holds him there for a long moment, savoring the warmth of his skin and the once-again inescapable whiff of sandalwood and incense.

Words are few and far between, right now, but words are not the only thing they need. For now there is touch, and there is warmth, and there is magic, and there is Molly. And for anything else, there will be time for that later. 

#Mollymauk Tealeaf #Caleb Widogast #widomauk #critical role #critical role spoilers #c2ep140 spoilers #critfic #fanfiction #my writing #Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast #I'M FULL OF FEELINGS ABOUT THAT TRANSMUTER'S STONE FOLKS #FULL OF FEELINGS ABOUT WIDOMAUK AGAIN #HAVE A WEE BIT OF ANGST WITH MORE JOY ANF FLUFF

[itsmyara]

A Toast (N/SFW)

Pairing: Hisoka/Machi

Word Count: 790

Warnings: N/SFW, Oral Sex (with Champagne), Shibari, Light Dom/sub, Switching.

Note: This is a translation of a 2017 New Year's Eve fic I've written. Just a little smut to celebrate 🥂

The black kimono was open, falling off her shoulders as she tilted the bottle of champagne, spilling its bubbling contents over her bare, exposed breasts, feeling it quickly slide down her abdomen to seep between her legs. At that end, his ravenous mouth caught the alcoholic liquid, its taste mixing with her most intimate juices.

Hisoka was filled with delight, his tongue running free over her sex, his lips sucking that tender, succulent flesh, and his teeth nibbling into it at times in eagerness, drawing moans that sounded in Machi's throat. She, in turn, grabbed his hair with her free hand, holding him hard against her, controlling him according to her will while standing over him.

When she put on that black kimono on special occasions, she became a nawashi, and he, who normally found pleasure in the most unusual ways, delighted in falling at her feet and serving as an object of her art and pleasure. For hours she would devote herself to restraining him, binding each of his limbs together in ties and knots that intertwined symmetrically, using the threads of her transmuted nen as ropes. And Hisoka would cum, more than once, only during that process if Machi allowed it, but whenever he was at the near peak she caused him some form of sharp pain that made his sexual energy go out of focus.

And he hated her for it. And he loved her dearly for it. He knew that when she gave him permission to release, the orgasm would come with an intensity beyond compare.

But at that moment, a little past midnight, when fireworks were still audible in the distance, what she allowed him was to make a toast in her body, and he took the chance to devour her with passion, intoxicated by all the sensations that her threads caused in his flesh, the moans that echoed through the abandoned empty room, and the taste and feel of her pleasure. Hisoka's golden eyes rolled in ecstasy.

When Machi's body began to shake, giving the first hints of what was to come, it didn't take long for her to throw the bottle far away, causing it to crash against the wall, and with her other hand, also free now, she squeezed him tighter against her body, her thighs tightening around him with increasing pressure. Hisoka wanted to grab her in his own claws, to turn that white flesh red and purple with the force of his desire for her, to reach deep, to burrow inside that luscious little body in every way possible; to be one with her in the most animalistic way, and the restraint of that madness only multiplied it exponentially.

Devouring Machi would never be enough to satiate the desire she aroused and fed with such mastery. The taste of her climax flooding his mouth, accompanied by her whimpers and moans, would never be enough. He would always want more. A lot more.

She was now panting on top of him, and it took her a few moments before she was able to breathe properly. He was panting himself, causing her goosebumps with the hot air that was coming out of his mouth without a rhythm.

When she recovered, she sat on his lap in silence, casually admiring her own work, which still held him tightly. Her stare slowly rose to meet his, watching it glowing in that demonic way that could disturb so many people. But she was relaxed, with that kind of peace that could only be felt after a storm. Her hand touched his face, making him lean against her, and Machi's lips curved in a rare smile.

"Happy New Year, stupid," she whispered calmly, and it was his turn to smile.

"Well maybe it will be, if this beginning is a foretaste of the things to come…" he replied mischievously, and she sealed his mouth with her finger before leaning to cover it with a kiss instead, which naturally intensified until their breaths caught again.

"It's too early to say… we're not done here yet…" Machi murmured with her lips still brushing his, and then her threads released all of his body at once.

In less than a second she felt his weight on her, his needy hands grabbing her in ecstasy with the newfound freedom, the insane desire pouring over her like the open floodgates of a dam. And she delighted in feeling it all in her own flesh, in being under him after subduing him to the limit more than once.

It was her turn, and even though he hadn't tied her up, she knew she was now restrained in his eagerness.

And that really was the best way to start a new year.

#hisomachi #hisoka #machi #hisoka x machi #machi komacine #hisoka morow #myarawrites

[groovesnjams]

GROOVES n jamsS.O.T.Y. 2021 |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| 31 ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

“PEACESIGN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" by Black Dresses

MG:

One of the abiding but mostly unspoken rules of Grooves N Jams is that the more outwardly unpleasant, aggressive, or inhospitable the song is, the more DV and I will agree it’s good. Black Dresses overflow “PEACESIGN” with harsh electronics, thrash guitars and abruptly beaten drums. Ada Rook’s vocals alternate between growled and strangled. She screams “No hope!” so many times that no single piece of punctuation could possibly encompass all the meaning she’s packing into those two words. It’s a demand, a threat, a wish, an inquisition. It’s good. “PEACESIGN” is very, very good. I don’t know if I’m self-selecting or if this truly was a watershed year, but I’ve never heard more cracked and blistering trans-feminine rage. I can only imagine I’ve missed it in years past, an utter disappointment, because when have trans women not been under constant attack and scrutiny? The anger and sadness that inform “PEACESIGN” become a sort of catharsis as they’re allowed to drain without the threat of being overwhelmed by a consciousness that is always forced to exist within a hateful world. It’s the most beautiful and uninhibited anger has ever sounded, to me, and it’s a triumph worth celebrating, even though, almost predictably, Black Dresses no longer exist after being forced apart by an entitled fanbase.

DV:

Not to be dramatic but at this point asking, “Can we make something beautiful?” counts as optimistic, to me. I’d settle for making something adequate or functional; most days I’d be happy just to make something. Every time I listen to “PEACESIGN” I have a moment where I think my internet connection’s fucked up somehow, tripped up by the stuttering production. This is an accomplishment in itself, one Black Dresses exceed in the visceral, overdriven dynamics of the rest of the track. “PEACESIGN” is outwardly harrowing, sure, but there’s also an inherent beauty in posing questions about art via art, and that’s the scab they’re picking at here. If you think about it hard enough, “Can we make something beautiful/ For a better world?” might be the only kind of question worth asking; it’s located at the intersection of deeply personal and highly pretentious where all the most important questions live. What better way to pose it than shrieking repeatedly until your voice is transmuted into an electronic warble?

#gnjsoty2k21 #black dresses #peacesign!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #music

[deathduty]

[Morgan makes a valentine’s day brunch and carries her spread on a tray to the bedroom. Situated around the fruit is this oversize mug, stuffed with what appear to be odds and ends and some ordinary snacks. Resting on top of the mug is the following letter, carefully written out on the best stationary in the house.]

February 14, 2021

My dearest, Deirdre,

Once, not quite a year ago, I went for a walk along the Outskirts, and picked up as many things as made me think of you as I could fit into my bag. I was sad and missed you, and so everything reminded me of you. The dirt, the grass, the shell of a worm’s old skin, a bundle of clover, some flowers, pebbles, plastic litter by the side of the road, flyers crammed into the side of the door. Even the sun made me think of your smile, and the clouds, of your soft cheeks. And if I could’ve squeezed out a drop of those to take with me too, I would have! I missed you so much, the whole world was one beautiful, annoying, unrelenting reminder. But when I came back from my walk, I turned all that mess and longing, all the floating junk of a day, into the tourmaline stone you wear around your neck so often.

But now I am yours, and you are mine. There is no reason to miss you like that anymore. And so, one might ask, what makes me think of you now, if I don’t have that aching want to filter my attention?

An acorn, the exact color of your eyes. A straw wrapper, from Al’s. A cherry pop. A button. Chocolate pretzels. A paper bookmark. The little vertebrae of a dead rodent. Grave dirt. A frayed ribbon. Wildflowers, especially dandelions, which I’ve had preserved in a paperweight for you. The mug you plucked this letter from.

It’s taken me a little bit of time to wrangle enough things to fill this mug with you. More than one walk, more than two. But it would still seem that I don’t need to long for you to find you around me. Adoration and steady, returned affection can yield their own gifts too. 

I no longer have the power to unify my affections into something clean, compact, and beautiful. My mess is sometimes messier now than it was when I transmuted that necklace, or when you came in the middle of the night to scrape me off my porch last Valentine’s. My love is fragmented, odd, mysterious, sticky, needy–as many moods and in as many unwieldy pieces as these reminders and offerings I give to you. But whatever its state, my love is yours to have and keep or return as you see fit. And I believe, in spite of the sad stories I carry behind me, that it will be safe.

Valentine’s Day is still a lame made up holiday, but it is also still meant to be celebrated with the people you care about. And the person I care about more than any words or gesture can contain is you. Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.

Yours,

Morgue

#c: morgan #letters #no one look at me im 🥺 #valentines is good maybe #🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 #submission

[flameleads]

@gcldenchild​ asked:

though his footsteps are unnaturally quiet, sun boy is moving towards his bampás while in his field of view. he’s also holding something behind his back — something a little large.

it isn’t until his hands move into view that a jar full of glass cranes in a little beach-themed terrarium decorated with crystals is exposed to his eyes. where did he keep it? who knows. but there’s faint transmutation marks around every part of it, so clearly he made it all himself.

“ ah … bampás. h-happy father’s day. sorry, ‘m not really used t’ celebratin’ this at all … but i made this f’ y’. ”

he’s quiet and squirmy. this is his first time celebrating this since — well since he was 4, really.

god, it’s been so long since he had a stable father figure to celebrate.

“ ‘m not really good at this sort’a thing … but th’ cranes are just a thing i associate with y’. mustangs, i mean. i almost pulled a prank on m’ own by makin’ a thousand of’em outta his mail t’ put in his office back in east hq, but that fell through when he caught m’. ‘m not gonna do that t’ y’, but i thought … glass cranes might b’ nice. there’s also some palm oil scent in there t’ help keep bugs away from it  … i-i know ‘s not really much, but —

iwannagivesomethin’t’yabecausey’tookcare’am’wheniwasatm’worstokayilovey’. ”

…. that last bit was fast. but he’s not running — he’s just glancing down at the floor with a red face.

it seems he’s still getting used to saying i love you to people other than luna.

He hadn’t moved from his spot in the dining room. Edward knew what he was doing by getting him to eat a full breakfast and not just the slim pickings he grew used to. It meant his father stayed put for longer before and after eating. Contentedly full, he sipped at his second cup of coffee. There would be more, his son said, and he had no idea what that meant.

Wait, was Edwin in on this too? Roy tilted his head to the side as he watched the other approach. He had something behind his back. Did... did he get him something? But he wasn’t---no, Edwin called him bampás, which translated to what Edward called him. He wasn’t sure how he earned that moniker from a boy he only knew for a couple of months, but he wasn’t about to reject it. Quite frankly, it was an honor.

And what an honor this gift was. Carefully, Roy took the jar from Edwin’s hands to study it. Those were cranes if he recalled correctly---Hawkeye knew fauna better than he did. Cranes made out of glass in a terrarium, one decorated with crystals. He... he made this for him. Doing so had to have taken a lot of precise alchemy and time. Black eyes traced over what he could see in pure admiration.

It was beautiful. To think Edwin took the time to make him something so precious only after knowing him for less than a year. Once again exercising great care, Roy put the jar down on the dining room table as he looked to Edwin. Of course he wasn’t used to celebrating this day---he couldn’t blame him for that. So nervous too, his voice quiet. Not once did Roy interrupt. There was a story behind this gift, and he wanted to hear it.

Like many good stories, it started with a prank---well, what almost became a prank. His Mustang was just as perceptive then. Good to know. The number one thousand had significance that Roy didn’t miss, though. If one made one thousand paper cranes and made a wish, said wish would come true. Wasn’t that how it went? Edwin made glass ones for him instead, and he even thought ahead for a way to keep the bugs away. This gift was incredibly thoughtful, and he knew exactly where it would go in his room.

Not before he thanked Edwin, though. A small smile accompanied watery eyes as he moved to hold his arms open. If the other didn’t want to hug him, he would accept that. He merely wanted to show gratitude.

“I love you too, and I love what you made me. This took a lot of time and thought, didn’t it? I can tell.” Pausing, he considered his next words for several seconds. Xerxian wasn’t his strong suit when it came to languages, but he knew enough. “‘B’ni’---that’s what you are to me. I’ll take care of you at your best, your worst, and everything in-between, all right? I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

#gcldenchild #ic; light a fire | roy #ic; from the desk of roy mustang | answered asks [ unprompted ] #father's day tw #[ roy was not expecting this either ] #[ god these boys are so sweet ] #[ I love them with all my heart ] #long post tw