Hera, Queen Of The Gods, Goddess Of Marriage, Goddess Of Women, And Thief Of Godly Children

DPXDC prompt. Wes Weston in Metropolis.

Lois Lane is a talented reporter and is proud of it. Her name has long been known for her scandalous investigations and  private interviews with Superman. Without exaggeration, she could call herself an extremely valuable worker of the Daily Planet.

So when she was assigned to teach the new unexperienced intern, who was completely unimpressed by her skills, Lois was more than unhappy. But the new guy was perfectly able to find common ground with people and efficiently carried out assignments, so she finally warmed up and even decided to do take him on an interview with members of the Justice League for a practice.

When they entered the room heroes were a little tense. Lois let herself be a little smug, realizing that they were used to her presence and the new man wasn’t seen as credible.

She turned to the intern to tell him something inspiring before they start to make him feel less anxious about work with such well-known personalities. And she cut herself short. The red-haired man's face expressed a strange mischievous satisfaction.

"Long time no see, Phantom. Or, should I say, Fenton."

One of the new members of the League quickly hid behind Batman and swore.

"Who the hell let Weston in here?!"

Within seconds, the conference room turned into Tom and Jerry’s film set.

"I’ve wasted the best years of my life on you, asshole! Get back on the ground and let’s talk man to man, Fenton!"

"Help!"

"I know where you live, you can’t hide from me! So listen here, you.."

"Get that damn stalker away from me!"

~~~~~~

Only at the end of the working day Miss Lane realize that Weston did not take a single photo or note during the entire evening. Wes doesn't respond to her outrage and says he's already taken care of it.

The next day, Phantom himself arrived at their office and immediately headed to Weston.

Danny: I brought a thumb drive with photos, "Mr. Jameson". May now Dobby be free?

Wes: Until next Tuesday. Paulina ordered me to drag you to school reunion.

Danny: What? Hell no, Valerie will be there. I'm not looking for death.

Wes: Not my problem, I’m still mad at you. Can't believe the photographer at the press conference where your identity was revealed was...who he was again? Oh, right, not me. Such a betrayal.

Danny: Come on, Wes, you were on vacation at this time.

Wes: Get out of here.

Danny: How to get you to forgive me? I swear on my life you’ll be the photographer at the wedding, okey?

Wes: The guarantee is so-so.

Tim's Birthday, he's about to open Bruce's gift

Tim, dead stare at Bruce: If there is any form of hologram in here, I am killing everyone in Gotham, including myself

Bruce, terrified: Oh..., uh, well good thing there's not

Tim: Are you sure?

Bruce: Yes

Tim, opening the present: Oh, a new camera. Neat.

Everyone:

Tim:

Everyone:

Jason: Okay, what the fuck was that about

Tim: He knows what he did.

Dick: the only reason I haven’t is because I fear for the doctors there.

Tim: oh please. I’m not the Joker.

Kon, suddenly in the middle of stopping a robot: he’s much worse.

Lex, confusion evident on his face: what?

Tim after saying something extremely worrying turns to Dick immediately after

Tim: Please don't put me in a mental hospital

Dick: I'm not gonna lie to you, I consider it sometimes

Time Travel is my favourite trope and I think we need more fics where both Obi-Wan AND Qui-Gon time travel together because no matter when they get sent it's chaos. They're saving the galaxy and being physic flash-bangs to everyone around them.

like before Bandomeer?

The entire council is baffled to watch as Qui-Gon 'never taking a padawan again' Jinn has suddenly cut off his post-Xanatos depression tour to return to the temple and beeline to the creche with a frantic energy. His wild eyes immediately single out a fluffy, red-haired initiate.

"You." he exhales with a pointed finger, slightly ominous as he towers over the child. Said child starts vibrating with delight. "Me." he agrees, launching himself at the man. Qui-Gon drops to his knees with a thud that cannot be healthy. Obi-Wan's attempts to clamber into Qui-Gon's robes and maybe onto his shoulders is thwarted by the fact that Qui-Gon's massive hands are cupping Obi-Wan's tiny squishy cheeks. He stares at the initiate for a few minutes with an intensity that is starting to worry people.

Finally, "You're so small." Qui-Gon sounds like he might cry.

'What the fuck?' Plo Koon projects at Mace.

"I'm 9! That tends to be the case!" the child chirps back.

"You're nine." Oh. Ah. Qui-Gon's eyes are distinctively misty. He squishes the boy in a hug so hard he squeaks. Mace makes a series of gestures that imply the need for a head-scan. Depa obligingly drifts off towards the halls. Qui-Gon scoops the child up onto his hip and claims him as his padawan on the spot. The assorted council members and creche-masters burst into noise. Mace tells Depa to bring some space ibuprofen as well.

after Naboo?

Anakin is a little apprehensive of his place in both the order and Obi-Wan's life, but then one day Obi-Wan wakes up and is suddenly a lot less sad in the force?? In fact, if Anakin didn't know better he'd say he was almost giddy, but he's watched Obi-Wan try to pretend his world hasn't fallen apart for the past few months so it can't be that, right? And um, Miss Bant? He knows grief is a funny thing that affects people differently but he's pretty sure 'massive mood swing' and 'having full conversations with invisible people' is not...great? and you said to tell you if Obi-Wan got really weird in any way.

Anyway after a lot of medical exams, intense consultation with the archives, and a couple exorcisms, Anakin ends up being raised by his 'real' master and his ghost master. He is far more well adjusted emotionally and far less well adjusted for what counts as normal people behavior(not talking to thin air). When questioned on this, all he ever says is that he's talking to Qui-Gon. Isn't he...dead? Well, yes. Wait, he's a ghost? Ghosts are real? ...Well this ghost is real.

This starts a great number of existential crises among non-force sensitives and incredibly heated theological arguments amongst the Jedi. Whenever Obi-Wan is questioned on this, all he ever says is some variation of "the force got to know him for 5 seconds and kicked him back out." Mace backs him up on this even though that reasoning is technically blasphemous. Qui-Gon is having the time of his un-life. He's ascended to his final form, his sheer existence is a heresy, this is truly all he has ever aspired towards.

the Clone Wars?

The minute they get dropped back Qui-Gon immediately goes and haunts the shit out of Dooku. They have a signed terms of surrender and promise of info on the Sith Lord within the year. Only half of it is because Qui-Gon's giving Dooku complexes that are only perceptible to shrimp, the other half is because they now have a ghost spy that is not bound by the laws of physics nor spacetime.

Obi-Wan only nominally pays attention to this as he immediately goes and implements his 19 step seduction plan with Cody (he had to focus on something on Tatooine to pass the time). It fails. Spectacularly. Publicly. Ah right. Tatooine was not exactly the height of his sanity. Everyone in the GAR and temple is now riveted by High General and Councilor Obi-Wan Kenobi's attempts to go on a date with his Commander, who bats him away him like a particularly annoying stray and seems one bouquet of cactus away from committing mutiny. Anakin is worrying if it means his master knows about his secret marriage and this is some sort of really weird power play. (It is, but not in the way he thinks)

The next time Dooku goes after Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon spends a good few months appearing tear-stained at the edge of Dooku's perception and only communicating in terrible wails and discordant mutterings of 'padawan. my padawan. my little one.' 24/7.

"Wait, you're annoying Dooku into surrendering?"

"Oh no Anakin, we're crushing his psyche like a bug. :)"

Eyes

Dp x Dc Crossover Writing Idea

“Red Robin!”

When he backtracked to find the owner of the voice he was a bit surprised to find a young boy, maybe eight years old if he had to guess, dressed in a red sweatshirt that dwarfed him and a pair of gym shorts that had seen better days.

Not many Gothamites called out to the vigilantes, a silent agreement to stay out of their way and not to look too closely. This kid however stared up at him with bright blue eyes unafraid of getting the Red Robin’s attention.

A fan?

Before he even opens his mouth, the kid gives him a small, hopeful smile, eyes shining with something that reminds him of himself when he was that age and following Batman and Robin with his camera around his tiny neck.

“I brought you a gift,” the boy say with nervous excitement. He enthusiastically swings off the backpack he had on to dig through the contents, taking his eyes off the vigilante and showing his unwavering trust that nothing bad would happen to him while Red Robin was here.

The boy pulls out what appears to be a jar wrapped in newspaper, the worn page ripping in some spots to show the clear glass underneath. Small hands present it like it’s Red Robin’s birthday (which it wasn’t).

He takes it cautiously, the kid hasn’t been hostile but this was still weird, and pulls it closer with enough space so if it’s a bomb it doesn’t blow up in his face.

It’s got weight to it and the slight sloshing tells him it’s filled with liquid. He carefully unwraps the ‘gift’, keeping his eye on the boy who stands waiting anxiously.

Tim almost drops the jar as soon as he sees what’s inside. Only his reflexes from over the years held on and his expression turned neutral.

A pair of eyes sit at the bottom of the jar. The orbs were crudely extracted, tissue floating around them like a mane of hair around a head.

He turns the jar to see the irises and… he knew these eyes. The slimy green is filmed with death, but he recognized these eyes from the number of times the owner locked them onto him, the cruel possessiveness they possessed when they gazed at him. Never again apparently.

Tim doesn’t speak for a while, not knowing what to say, but also thoughts racing too fast to form any proper sentences.

“Do you like it?” The small, nervous voice interrupts those thoughts.

What an innocent question on an equally innocent looking face.

“How did you get Ra’s Al Ghul’s eyes?”

The teasing chatter over the comms immediately hushes into shocked silence.

“I took them from his body, so you knew he was dead. I burned the rest so you don’t have to worry about him coming back again. The Pit there is gone anyway,” the child explains easily, not fazed in the slightest from the words he speaks.

“Grandfather is dead?” He hears Damian whisper over the comm.

So many other questions were flying through Tim’s head. He looks the kid over again.

Black hair and blue eyes. In any other situation the kid might have been a possible Wayne adoptee. He’s not a clone from what he can see though. Despite the coloring he doesn’t really look like any of them. Pale skin like Tim, but has freckles. The same kind of nose as Damian, but wide, round eyes. Jaw kind of like Jason, but his body shape is too narrow. Bright, almost icy blue eyes like Dick, but eyebrow shape is flatter. Lip shape like Bruce, but from the kid’s anxious lip biting he could see the faintest trace of dimples.

“Who are you?” He asks instead of the other million and one questions.

The boy blinks almost like he wasn’t expecting the question. He’s cheeks color pink with blush as he grins widely.

“I’m Danny!” He introduces cheerfully like he didn’t just hand a vigilante a jar of eyes.

“Hi, Danny,” Tim greets almost dumbly. “Want to tell me why you gave me this?”

Danny scoffs his shoe against the pavement in what appears to be embarrassment.

“Well, I know when you ask someone for something, it’s nice to give a gift or something. Like I did something nice for you so maybe you’ll do something nice for me?”

He takes a moment to absorb that child-like reasoning.

“So you want me to do something for you and you thought I would like Ra’s Al Ghul’s eyes in exchange?”

Danny studies him and fidgets with the large sweatshirt sleeve.

“I just thought you would like proof. Like the whole ‘bring me the heart of my enemy’ kind of thing. Do you not like it? I couldn’t just take a picture ‘cuz I didn’t have a camera with me, I know you like photography. I can do something else for you if it’s not enough,” he offers worriedly.

Tim freezes.

“How do you know I like photography?” He demands.

Danny tilts his head curiously.

“Because Tim Drake likes photography,” he says like it’s obvious, “and you’re Tim Drake.”

Well. This is less than ideal.

“Red Robin, take him back to the Cave,” Batman instructs over the comms.

Yeah, he was getting there.

“Do you know the other’s’ identities?”

Danny nods and hums affirmatively. Tim waits.

“Oh! Yea. Batman is Bruce Wayne. Robin is Damian Wayne. Red Hood is Jason Todd. Nightwing is Richard Grey-“

“Okay. That’s enough.”

Tim glances around the empty alley they were standing in, checking to make sure no stray people heard. Luckily they were truly alone.

“Danny, do you want to come back with me?” He asks, but it’s not really a question. The kid was coming back regardless, it would just be better if he went willingly.

Unsurprisingly, the kid lights up like a little sun at the offer.

“Really?” He nearly shouts in excitement.

“Yeah, kid. I parked my bike a few blocks from here. You ever rode a motorcycle before?”

Danny shakes his head, nearly bounding on his toes.

“Not in this lifetime.” And wasn’t that odd wording? “Are we gonna grapple there?”

“Think you can hold on?”

“Yeah!”

He kneels down so the boy can climb onto his back and lock his arms around his neck and hook his feet together around his torso. Danny is worryingly light as he stands.

The kid is the picture of an excited and overeager child as they carefully fly over rooftops and then drive back to the Cave. Even when they park inside the safety of the Batcave, Danny’s eyes are filled with child-like awe and wonder, so curious and chattering with questions and wild imagination. It would be cute, endearing even, if the jar of eyes wasn’t sitting heavily in his pocket.

Alfred came down not too long after their arrival with a tray of healthy snacks and some waters. Danny happily munches on the apple slices as he wanders around where Tim can see him.

The rumble of the Batmobile can be heard almost an hour later after Tim has to tell Danny not to touch the weapons for the fourth time. The kid’s attention is drawn to the sleek black vehicle as it parks by Tim’s bike. He trots over with wide eyes as the doors open and Robin exits, then Batman.

Unfortunately, Dick is in Bludhaven and Jason is visiting Roy and Lian this week. Cass and Steph were gone as well and Duke was sleeping. It was just the three of them and this kid with Alfred as the only buffer.

Danny stares openly, curious, as the duo makes their way over to the computer where Tim has claimed his sit.

Tim turns the jar that he set on the table so the eyes are facing them and slowly leans back again, suddenly very tired. Damian flexes his hands into fists tightly while Batman is very still.

“Hi,” Danny chirps like nothing is wrong, oblivious to the tension in the air.

Batman takes a measured breath. Robin glares down at the child, but remains silent for now.

“Who killed Ra’s Al Ghul?”

Danny blinks blankly.

“Nobody.”

“You’re saying he just dropped dead?” Damian sneered in sarcasm.

“Death took him,” the child says simply as if that explained everything.

“How?” The word is demanded and emphasized.

“Like Death takes everyone. His expiration was overdue.”

Bruce frowns and Damian almost snarls.

“I demand you start making sense!”

Danny glares back in offense.

“I’m being very clear! Maybe you should ask better questions!”

The twelve year old growls at the smaller child and Batman has to place a firm hand on his shoulder to keep him from attacking.

“Danny?” Batman questions after a tense moment.

The boy’s arms are crossed in irritation, but he blinks out of his glare to stare up at the man.

“Yea?”

“How do you know our identities?”

“Oh, memories.”

Danny looked like everything he said made sense and it was driving Tim up a wall.

“Memories,” Bruce repeats.

“Uh-huh,” Danny nods confidently. “From the Lazarus Pit.”

A jolt goes through Tim as he recalls what the boy said earlier about the Pit.

“Didn’t you say the Pit was gone?” He asks before Bruce could continue his line of questioning.

Danny turns with a bright smile as if he was proud Tim remembered.

“Yea! Well, gone from this world anyway.” Tim was concerned. “I took the memories from it before sending it back where it belongs.”

“Okay. How did you know how to ‘take the memories’ and send it back? Back where?”

“I was born from it. Duh. It went back to the Realms or I guess you’d call it the Afterlife,” Danny actually rolls his eyes as if they should already know this.

“Born from it?” Damian asks with a wavering voice, hidden well from the child but not from them. “Nothing has ever been born from the Pits.”

“That you know of.”

And wasn’t that the kicker.

“So, to clarify, you come from the Pits. You know who we are because you took the memories from said Pits. Death took Ra’s because his time was up. And you took the eyes from his corpse to give to me because you thought I would like it as a gift so I would do something for you.”

Danny positively beams.

“This is why you’re my favorite!”

Damian grinds his teeth harshly.

“What is it you want Red Robin to do for you?” Batman asks in strangled hesitation.

“Oh!” Danny perks up like he remembered and hops over to Tim with pleading hands. “Can you please make me an identity? You’re really good at all that stuff and I was hoping you could find me a family. Someone to adopt me. A nice family, with a bed and family dinners and a dog. I always wanted a dog.”

Tim has the sudden urge to scream.

Fucking lmao

I just watched @pastraspec 's video on Hello Nieghbor and this part made me laugh louder than necessary

This is amazing. Like, Lex is OBVIOUSLY a bad guy but he seems so genuine and seems to ACTUALLY value that Kon won’t do anything for him now. Sure he thinks he can convince him but there aren’t threats, actual fear, or anything of the sort being used so he’s better than canon(that everyone ignore… which I prefer) Batman.

An excerpt of morally-ambiguous-dad!Lex for @robotogato to hopefully enjoy, haha.

"Clones really don't get soulmarks, though," Kon says in frustration. "It doesn't even make sense that I'd have one."

"Well, I suppose there's the possibility that I just want you so badly that it happened anyway," Lex Luthor muses idly. "A Luthor doesn't generally accept being denied what they want."

"Very fucking funny," Kon mutters, shooting him a glower. "I'm being serious here, asshole."

"Hm," Lex Luthor observes, inspecting him neutrally. "Not even a moment where you let yourself want to believe that, was there."

"Why would I wanna believe that a bastard like you wanted me?" Kon sneers at him.

"Because I am the only person in the multiverse who would burn down reality for you without hesitation," Lex Luthor says like he's talking about the weather or something. Like he's just stating a totally inconsequential fact or reiterating something as obvious as the sky being blue.

Like there's no question there at all.

"I hope you fucking die and I hope it fucking hurts," Kon hisses as the whole world seems to bleed red, just about choking on his fury.

"Well, it will if you don't close your eyes," Lex Luthor says, raising an eyebrow at him. "Quickly, ideally."

"Wh–" Kon is almost stupid enough to ask, and then he realizes and immediately screws his eyes shut, snapping his hands up over his face just in case.

His eye sockets feel like they're on fire.

"Ah, I suppose I live another day," Lex Luthor says. "Rage and anger are notable triggers for the heat vision, if you're still unfamiliar. And apparently arousal as well, although I have very definitely never encountered that version so I can't say if it's more or less potent than rage."

"How do you even know about it, then?" Kon asks, hating that he can't trust himself to look at the bastard without killing him. Lex Luthor could be doing any stupid fucked-up thing right now and he'd have no fucking clue.

"I am a very intelligent person who can afford very good information," Lex Luthor says. "And I am also more intimately familiar with Kryptonian DNA than quite possibly anyone else on this planet, Superman included."

"Superman has Kryptonian DNA," Kon retorts dubiously.

"He does," Lex Luthor agrees. "His special little gift from dumb luck and blind chance. Some of us actually had to put in a bit of effort to get that kind of power, though."

"You don't have that kind of power," Kon says. "You have money and the fucking bullshit fear that you put into people."

"Ah, but I have you now," Lex Luthor counters mildly. "Now don't I."

"You don't," Kon snaps.

"Oh, give it sixteen years or so," Lex Luthor says, making a dismissive gesture as Kon's eyes finally stop burning long enough for him to risk a glare at him. "Your full powerset should be in by then, and I imagine I'll have had a bit of time to change your mind somewhere in there."

"I don't care what whatever custody law bullshit says about it, I'm not gonna stay with you," Kon says tightly. "Sure as shit not for the next sixteen years!"

"Oh?" Lex Luthor asks, raising an eyebrow at him. "Then where exactly are you intending to go long-term? Just planning to stay in a lab for the rest of your life?"

"Why the fuck not?" Kon says in exasperation.

Lex Luthor's eyes narrow.

"Oh," he says like a realization. "Someone's actually made you assume that you belong in a lab, haven't they."

"Yeah, I can't think of a single unrepentant bastard who might've had a hand in me belonging in one of those," Kon bites off darkly. "Real fucking mystery there, huh."

"Hm," Lex Luthor says.

When the door opens, a lot of thoughts rush through Tim's head at lightning speed. If any telepaths were near, he's sure his mind would have given them mental whiplash because he felt like he was going Mach 20 from what the fuck to a very natural oh my god Bruce is going to fuck this up and ending up at I know exactly what to do in about five seconds.

A haughty looking Prince watched them with a straight spine and a scowl on his lips as he stood- proudly, happily, next to Talia Al Ghul who looks just as royal and proud beside him.

"I thought you'd be taller, Father."

If anything was different- anything at all, he's sure this scenario would have gone wrong.

Had Tim been any less prepared then he was anyways.

Because Tim is not oblivious to the fact that as Bruce has already allowed three children into his life in the past- it would make sense that Bruce would follow the trend and collect more as time went on.

Tim is prepared. He lived alone for the first thirteen years of his life wishing for a younger sibling to watch over and he has made plans for every scenario that he could possibly conceive.

His plans got even more convoluted as he joined the Wayne family and he promised himself that his relationship with his successor would be the best in the family because he wants to win at being a big brother.

He has been training for this his entire life.

So when Bruce- oh poor emotionally constipated Bruce who deflects big emotions with anger -looks at Talia with fire in his eyes at what Tim is sure is a valid anger about having a very clearly his child hidden from him for a decade opens his mouth, Tim does the smart thing and slaps his hand over Bruce's mouth without any hesitation or care.

Talia lifts an eyebrow in amusement as the young Prince's eyes widen fractionally in surprise.

Bruce goes back to being a still life painting in real life as he looks at him intently.

Tim does not care and looks at him sweetly in a way he knows that Bruce knows means that he'll tranq him if he doesn't think about his words.

Batman was very out of it when Tim became Robin.

Tim read a parenting book and decided boundaries were very important in a caretaker situation.

(Yes, Tim considers himself the caretaker in this situation. He thinks it's funny.)

(Bruce did not find it funny after being tranqed for the fifth time, but he could never find all the tranqs.)

"Bruce. Isn't it so wonderful that Talia has created such a gift to the world? It's almost like welcoming a child with love is a much higher priority than whatever you were about to say."

Bruce's left hand twitches in such a subtle way that allows Tim, who knows his partner very well from the past few years, to know that Bruce was surprised.

Tim nods acceptingly before giving Bruce his ability to speak back, and smiling at their guests nicely and genuinely.

Nodding his head to each in greeting, "Ms. Talia, Prince. Please come in for some tea."

He pretends not to notice the barely there shuffle of the Prince's right foot wanting to hide behind his mother, nor does he linger on the vaguest tightening of Talia's hand on her son's shoulder as she glances around them casually.

She smiles at him, politely sharp. She actually reminds Tim of his own mother- weilding the twitch of her lips like it could cut deeper than any hidden dagger.

"That sounds lovely."

I know nothing of Inner Demons but I might use the rest to write a story if that’s chill?? I want Zane and his tired, idgaf, politically positive husband to find a way to ADORE her. Zane likes power so when he meets the woman who RADIATES it, he befriends her. The other(an OC I created literally only for the reason of, ‘Zane’s political marriage was talked of once and I need to fox that’ and made a character solely to somehow endear himself and be barely tolerated by Zane.

Can I use these in a rewrite?

gimme an Aphmau that flirts. gimme an Aphmau that gets Zoey, Garroth, Aaron and even Laurance (when you catch him off guard) flustered. gimme an Aphmau whose the boss. gimme an Aphmau whose witnessed the horrors. give me an Aphmau that’s learned to mature and live in the horrors, who wipes the blood off her lips with her thumb. give me an Aphmau whose not afraid to stab you through the heart when you went a little too far. give me an Irene that invokes eldritch horror in me, give me an Irene whose a little too comfortable with killing for good and just reasons, and Aphmau has to stop herself from going too far. give me an Aphmau soaked in blood, being brought back to earth by Laurance holding her tight. give me an Aphmau who makes shitty puns and jokes and keels over laughing at them. give me an Aphmau who winks at you. give me an Aphmau whose not afraid to cause mischief and chaos (especially in mystreet). give me an Aphmau who gives her boys stone cold orders, and they follow through without hesitation like the good bloodhounds they are.

give me an Ava who loves to party late into the night. give me an Ava whose drunk off her ass and making horrible decisions. give me an Ava whose not afraid to be a bitch and tell it to your face. give me an Aphmau that radiates matriarch energy, who can be serious and stern enough to tell you to cut the shit and everyone listens to her. give me an Aphmau whose in charge. give me an Ava who leashes her boys and takes them out on walks. give me an Ava whose in control, whose in charge of everything going on in her life, and though she may be self-destructive and watching her life fall apart, she’s the one who chose to let it burn.

give me an Aphmau who went through hell and came out stronger because of it. give me an Ava that would take the throne in a heartbeat. give me an Aphmau and an Ava with a lotta love to give and they’ll happily let anyone into their lives, because everyone’s lapping at her feet and wants a taste. everyone wants a bite of her, so she ends up with a whole pack of dogs that’ll do anything she asks them to. give me an Aphmau that embraces that and feels confident in her own skin and loves each and every one of her partners and loves her life and don’t you dare fuck with her, or else the whole packs gonna go for your throat.

give me an Aphmau who radiates happiness and joy and love and kindness, who takes in everyone and anyone, who is the mother to all, who will forgive the unforgivable and turn the devil’s darkest soldier into someone totally and wholly devoted to her. give me an Aphmau surrounded by devotion, undying loyalty, trust, never-ending love. a family that she built from scratch with her bare hands. the gods won’t love you, but she will. she’ll become your new god. gimme an Aphmau that would make a high priest tremble. everyone loves her, do they not? don’t you want a taste too? she’s entrancing. you want to do what she says. she’ll give you a home, she’ll give you love, she’ll build heaven and allow you to live in it.

she’s Aphrodite. she is Hera. she is Persephone. she is Athena.

give me an Aphmau who is power incarnate.

This just in: Vaderkin believes that all red-heads are related