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Apologies for the length and lateness of this post, past few months have been quite chaotic and haven't had much access to the internet, I dunno when I'll be back on this sub again after this so until then, more posts from me will be a Dream for Spring Summer (probably)
Over the years I've read a great many theories about the character of Varys, his motivations, his scheming throughout the series and his endgame, but none of them have ever truly sat well with me for how much his character feels simplified. He is one of ASOIAF's most complex characters who I still believe we haven't entirely cracked yet, and I for one still believe even after writing this post up and reflecting on it, there's still some of his character that I haven't figured out.
However, I want to propose an alternative character analysis to the character of Varys, one that drifts away from the more common take on his character - Varys is not a eunuch or a friend of Tyrion Lannister, and has spent his entire life lying about his manhood to deter anyone from thinking that he could father any children, so that fAegon, his true son, would always be protected while hiding.
Let us begin by breaking down each of the lies that define his character.
First, the lie that he was castrated as a young slave and had his manhood thrown into a fire by 'a certain man', which resulted in the fire turning magically blue and 'a voice' speaking out to Varys.

"One day at Myr, a certain man came to our folly. After the performance, he made an offer for me that my master found too tempting to refuse. I was in terror. I feared the man meant to use me as I had heard men used small boys, but in truth the only part of me he had need of was my manhood. He gave me a potion that made me powerless to move or speak, yet did nothing to dull my senses. With a long hooked blade, he sliced me root and stem, chanting all the while. I watched him burn my manly parts on a brazier. The flames turned blue, and I heard a voice answer his call, though I did not understand the words they spoke. "The mummers had sailed by the time he was done with me. Once I had served his purpose, the man had no further interest in me, so he put me out. When I asked him what I should do now, he answered that he supposed I should die. To spite him, I resolved to live. I begged, I stole, and I sold what parts of my body still remained to me. Soon I was as good a thief as any in Myr, and when I was older I learned that often the contents of a man's letters are more valuable than the contents of his purse. "Yet I still dream of that night, my lord. Not of the sorcerer, nor his blade, nor even the way my manhood shriveled as it burned. I dream of the voice. The voice from the flames. Was it a god, a demon, some conjurer's trick? I could not tell you, and I know all the tricks. All I can say for a certainty is that he called it, and it answered, and since that day I have hated magic and all those who practice it. If Lord Stannis is one such, I mean to see him dead." - ACOK - TYRION X

Now there is much from this excerpt to raise complaints and questions about Varys' story;

• There are no known instances of individuals being mutilated and having their mutilated parts being sacrificed in the flames for the sake of blood magic or appeasing R'hllor. Individuals have often been sacrificed to the flames, but sacrificed in their whole bodies.
  
• The details of how Varys was mutilated and that he was able to survive is unbelievable, and even more unbelievable that he went on to live as an orphan on the streets after this horrific ordeal with little to no medical treatment. Varys' simple claim that he "resolved to live" is very vague.
  
• Varys can remember this mystic and mysterious voice, but not what it send or what the words sounded like. Melisandre claims to hear the voices of R'hllor in the flames and voices could be heard from Drogo's tent when Mirri Maz Duhr was performing her blood magic, but these voices are only heard by the sorcerers, and not the victims. By all accounts, Varys should not have been able to hear these voices, if part of himself was fed to the flames.
  

But the weakest part of all is that Varys says that he "hates magic and all those who practise it", yet he goes to great lengths to protect and look out for Daenerys, and try to join fAegon's forces with hers, despite knowing that she has three magical dragons by her side.

"How many days until we reach the river?" he asked Illyrio that evening. "At this pace, your queen's dragons will be larger than Aegon's three before I can lay eyes upon them." "Would it were so. A large dragon is more fearsome than a small one." The magister shrugged. "Much as it would please me to welcome Queen Daenerys to Volantis, I must rely on you and Griff for that. I can serve her best in Pentos, smoothing the way for her return. So long as I am with you, though … well, an old fat man must have his comforts, yes? Come, drink a cup of wine." - ADWD - TYRION II

Illyrio is Varys' best friend and closest confidant, who he works with to protect Daenerys for much of her life and is willing to crown her as Queen alongside fAegon even though she has magical fire-breathing dragons that Varys, a victim of magical flames, would despise.
Illyrio, the same man who praised R'hllor, a God that Varys despises;

Her brother was waiting in the cool of the entry hall, seated on the edge of the pool, his hand trailing in the water. He rose when she appeared and looked her over critically. "Stand there," he told her. "Turn around. Yes. Good. You look …" "Regal," Magister Illyrio said, stepping through an archway. He moved with surprising delicacy for such a massive man. Beneath loose garments of flame-colored silk, rolls of fat jiggled as he walked. Gemstones glittered on every finger, and his man had oiled his forked yellow beard until it shone like real gold. "May the Lord of Light shower you with blessings on this most fortunate day, Princess Daenerys," the magister said as he took her hand. He bowed his head, showing a thin glimpse of crooked yellow teeth through the gold of his beard. "She is a vision, Your Grace, a vision," he told her brother. "Drogo will be enraptured." - AGOT - DAENERYS I

Neither Viserys or Daenerys were followers of R'hllor at this point, or surrounded by any followers, meaning Illyrio didn't need to bring up this form of prayer to R'hllor unless it was genuine or near genuine on his own part.
It makes little sense that Varys would entertain the company of those who worship R'hllor or magical forms of fire, if Varys truly is traumatised by what seemingly happened to him as a slave child by fire.
As well as Illyrio, this is apparent in Aerys II, who would regularly burn people in the throne room with wildfire, in the presence of Varys;

Frustrated, Aerys turned to the Wisdoms of the ancient Guild of Alchemists, who knew the secret of producing the volatile jade green substance known as wildfire, said to be a close cousin to dragonflame. The pyromancers became a regular fixture at his court as the king's fascination with fire grew. By 280 AC, Aerys II had taken to burning traitors, murderers, and plotters, rather than hanging or beheading them. The king seemed to take great pleasure in these fiery executions, which were presided over by Wisdom Rossart, the grand master of the Guild of Alchemists...so much so that he granted Rossart the title of Lord and gave him a seat upon the small council. - TWOIAF - THE TARGARYEN KINGS - AERYS II

Not only would Varys be present to witness these burnings, but Varys even encouraged Aerys to burn other individuals suspected of treachery, and fuelled both Aerys' paranoia and bloodlust;

He floated in heat, in memory. "After dancing griffins lost the Battle of the Bells, Aerys exiled him." Why am I telling this absurd ugly child? "He had finally realized that Robert was no mere outlaw lord to be crushed at whim, but the greatest threat House Targaryen had faced since Daemon Blackfyre. The king reminded Lewyn Martell gracelessly that he held Elia and sent him to take command of the ten thousand Dornishmen coming up the kingsroad. Jon Darry and Barristan Selmy rode to Stoney Sept to rally what they could of griffins' men, and Prince Rhaegar returned from the south and persuaded his father to swallow his pride and summon my father. But no raven returned from Casterly Rock, and that made the king even more afraid. He saw traitors everywhere, and Varys was always there to point out any he might have missed. So His Grace commanded his alchemists to place caches of wildfire all over King's Landing. Beneath Baelor's Sept and the hovels of Flea Bottom, under stables and storehouses, at all seven gates, even in the cellars of the Red Keep itself. - ASOS - JAIME V

Varys developed a reputation for egging on Aerys' paranoia and encouraging him to execute apparent traitors by fire, so much so that people like Barristan lay chief blame for Aerys' downfall into madness on Varys for exploiting it;

"It is not a question of wanting. The throne is mine, as Robert's heir. That is law. After me, it must pass to my daughter, unless Selyse should finally give me a son." He ran three fingers lightly down the table, over the layers of smooth hard varnish, dark with age. "I am king. Wants do not enter into it. I have a duty to my daughter. To the realm. Even to Robert. He loved me but little, I know, yet he was my brother. The Lannister woman gave him horns and made a motley fool of him. She may have murdered him as well, as she murdered Jon Arryn and Ned Stark. For such crimes there must be justice. Starting with Cersei and her abominations. But only starting. I mean to scour that court clean. As Robert should have done, after the Trident. Ser Barristan once told me that the rot in King Aerys's reign began with Varys. The eunuch should never have been pardoned. No more than the Kingslayer. At the least, Robert should have stripped the white cloak from Jaime and sent him to the Wall, as Lord Stark urged. He listened to Jon Arryn instead. I was still at Storm's End, under siege and unconsulted." He turned abruptly, to give Davos a hard shrewd look. "The truth, now. Why did you wish to murder Lady Melisandre?" - ASOS - DAVOS IV

It makes very little sense that Varys, a eunuch who seemingly hates worshippers of R'hllor and pyromancers for burning people and sacrificing his manhood to the flames as a child, would be best friends with a man who praises R'hllor or encourage his previous King to burn several people, many of whom were likely innocent of the claims of treachery put against them.
But it makes a lot more sense that Varys actually never had a problem with R'hllor or wildfire, and instead chose to encourage Aerys' paranoia so that he would always both seem useful to Aerys and be on good relations with him, to solidify his position of power on the Small Council, given that he was just a young foreign man in Westeros and wholly dependent on Aerys' support to maintain his standing in King's Landing.
The second lie of Varys' character that I wish to tackle is his apparent concern for the wellbeing of children;

"No," Ned pleaded, his voice cracking. "Varys, gods have mercy, do as you like with me, but leave my daughter out of your schemes. Sansa's no more than a child." "Rhaenys was a child too. Prince Rhaegar's daughter. A precious little thing, younger than your girls. She had a small black kitten she called Balerion, did you know? I always wondered what happened to him. Rhaenys liked to pretend he was the true Balerion, the Black Dread of old, but I imagine the Lannisters taught her the difference between a kitten and a dragon quick enough, the day they broke down her door." Varys gave a long weary sigh, the sigh of a man who carried all the sadness of the world in a sack upon his shoulders. "The High Septon once told me that as we sin, so do we suffer. If that's true, Lord Eddard, tell me … why is it always the innocents who suffer most, when you high lords play your game of thrones? Ponder it, if you would, while you wait upon the queen. And spare a thought for this as well: The next visitor who calls on you could bring you bread and cheese and the milk of the poppy for your pain … or he could bring you Sansa's head. - AGOT - EDDARD XV

Varys shows apparent disgust at the murders of Rhaegar's children, Rhaenys and Aegon, at the end of Robert's Rebellion, and the way in which they were brutally murdered.
However, we later learn in the series that Aegon seemingly survived and was swapped with a tanner's child, bought by Varys and swapped with Aegon, so that this bought child could be sacrificed to the Lannisters, who Varys presumed would want to kill Rhaegar's children;

"A true friend, our Lord Connington. He must be, to remain so fiercely loyal to the grandson of the king who took his lands and titles and sent him into exile. A pity about that. Elsewise Prince Rhaegar's friend might have been on hand when my father sacked King's Landing, to save Prince Rhaegar's precious little son from getting his royal brains dashed out against a wall." The lad flushed. "That was not me. I told you. That was some tanner's son from Pisswater Bend whose mother died birthing him. His father sold him to Lord Varys for a jug of Arbor gold. He had other sons but had never tasted Arbor gold. Varys gave the Pisswater boy to my lady mother and carried me away." "Aye." Tyrion moved his elephants. "And when the pisswater prince was safely dead, the eunuch smuggled you across the narrow sea to his fat friend the cheesemonger, who hid you on a poleboat and found an exile lord willing to call himself your father. It does make for a splendid story, and the singers will make much of your escape once you take the Iron Throne … assuming that our fair Daenerys takes you for her consort." - ADWD - TYRION VI

This entire "splendid story" as Tyrion calls it, is full of inconsistencies and unbelievable acts.
The first red flag of this story is the idea that Varys, a former slave child who abhors slavery, would willingly buy another man's young child. Also pay attention to the mention of 'Arbor gold', which has been well documented on this sub for years for how its always a signal of lies, as individuals like Littlefinger mention it in passing whenever they are telling a lie.
The second red flag is the idea that Varys, someone who seemingly abhors the murder and suffering of innocent children, would willingly sacrifice an innocent young child and allow them to be murdered just to spare another, more valuable child. The idea that Varys would also take Elia's child away from her, either willingly or unwillingly on her part, is also questionable.
The third red flag is why Varys chose only to switch Aegon with another child, and not do the same for Rhaenys. Having two imposter Targaryen children raised to believe they are Targaryens could've helped to support their claims, build them up as a rival power in Westeros and also provide a backup option for Varys incase fAegon didn't survive his childhood.
The final red flag is the idea that Varys was able to foresee how the Rebellion was going to end, accurately guessed that Rhaegar's children would be murdered by the Lannisters, knew where and when to find Elia and her children, be able to remove one of her children away from her without anyone knowing, and knew that one of Tywin's men would kill the children so brutally that next to no one would be able to recognise them - the idea story is built on a series of flimsy conveniences and incredible predictive abilities on Varys' part.
If Varys truly cared so much about the protection and well-being of children, he would not have willingly bought and sacrificed an innocent child to be sacrificed in exchange for Aegon's survival, nor would he have abandoned Rhaenys to her fate if he could have prevented it. This means either Varys truly doesn't give a damn about the wellbeing of children and just lies to the likes of Ned and Tyrion about it, or that the entire story about Aegon being swapped with a tanner's child is a lie like some fans believe, or that both stories are lies muddled together to make it more difficult to discern the truth.
Perhaps the truth of Varys' lies is best exposed in this often cited excerpt from ACOK, a conversation between him and Tyrion about the infamous "Shadow on the Wall" riddle;

Varys smiled. "Here, then. Power resides where men believe it resides. No more and no less.""So power is a mummer's trick?" "A shadow on the wall," Varys murmured, "yet shadows can kill. And ofttimes a very small man can cast a very large shadow." Tyrion smiled. "Lord Varys, I am growing strangely fond of you. I may kill you yet, but I think I'd feel sad about it." - ACOK - TYRION II

The question of who Varys refers to in this conversation has been debated for years on this sub. Some believe that Varys was alluding to fAegon, that if people believe he is the real Aegon then he will have power, even if he doesn't truly have power as a common non-Targaryen child. Others have suggested Varys was alluding to Littlefinger, who was once a young small man who rose very high in King's Landing and cast a large shadow over the realm by starting the WotFk through his schemes.
I however believe that Varys is talking about himself.
Varys was once a very small man when he came to King's Landing at Aerys' calling for him to join the Small Council. He was seen as a young ex-slave, without a lordship or house of his own, weak and powerless. But overtime, through his manipulation of Aerys, encouraging his paranoia and own self-inflicted downfall, Varys cast a very large shadow over the empire of House Targaryen in Westeros, and destroyed it forever. What Varys says here to Tyrion is a very veiled threat that he can be dangerous to Tyrion if he underestimates Varys.
Tyrion however, in his arrogance, believes that Varys is referring to him, being a "very small man" and begins considering him a friend.
This is the third and final lie of Varys' character that I wish to dissect here - the lie that he is a friend or useful ally of sorts to Tyrion.
The idea of Varys betraying Tyrion's trust and working against him is first presented to us by Cersei, when she lets slip that Varys informed her of Tyrion's plan to send the Hound into battle at the Battle of the Blackwater;

"Varys says so." The swan was too rich for his taste. A line appeared on Cersei's pale white brow, between those lovely eyes. "You put too much trust in that eunuch." "He serves me well." "Or so he'd have you believe. You think you're the only one he whispers secrets to? He gives each of us just enough to convince us that we'd be helpless without him. He played the same game with me, when I first wed Robert. For years, I was convinced I had no truer friend at court, but now . . ." She studied his face for a moment. "He says you mean to take the Hound from Joffrey." - ACOK - TYRION XII

On a first read, we are quick to dismiss Cersei's claims for how much she is built up as an antagonistic and untrustworthy character, but in later understanding her motives in her own POV chapters, we realise there may be an inkling of truth in her claims. In the case of the Hound, Varys has no reason to inform her of Tyrion's plan, however innocent and insignificant in the grand game of thrones they may be, other than to maintain some level of trust with her and to invoke conflict between the Lannister siblings, which benefits Varys.
There are frequent moments throughout the series in which Varys alludes to knowing key information and deliberately withholding it from Tyrion even if it may benefit Tyrion, including who ordered Mandon Moore to kill Tyrion;

Bronn had turned up all he could on Ser Mandon, but no doubt Varys knew a deal more . . . should he choose to share it. "The man seems to have been quite friendless," Tyrion said carefully. "Sadly," said Varys, "oh, sadly. You might find some kin if you turned over enough stones back in the Vale, but here . . . Lord Arryn brought him to King's Landing and Robert gave him his white cloak, but neither loved him much, I fear. Nor was he the sort the smallfolk cheer in tourneys, despite his undoubted prowess. Why, even his brothers of the Kingsguard never warmed to him. Ser Barristan was once heard to say that the man had no friend but his sword and no life but duty . . . but you know, I do not think Selmy meant it altogether as praise. Which is queer when you consider it, is it not? Those are the very qualities we seek in our Kingsguard, it could be said—men who live not for themselves, but for their king. By those lights, our brave Ser Mandon was the perfect white knight. And he died as a knight of the Kingsguard ought, with sword in hand, defending one of the king's own blood." The eunuch gave him a slimy smile and watched him sharply. Trying to murder one of the king's own blood, you mean. Tyrion wondered if Varys knew rather more than he was saying. - ASOS - TYRION II

When Tyrion presses Varys for information about Mandon, Varys deliberately skims over Mandon's life and offers vague beliefs about the perfect Kingsguard to try and derail Tyrion's line of questioning, and when Varys pretends not to have known about Mandon trying to kill Tyrion, he watches Tyrion "sharply" to try and gather how much Tyrion himself knows, whether or not Tyrion will seek retribution for it from the anger on his face, and almost openly mocks him for the smile he gives. Tyrion briefly considers the idea that Varys is deliberately holding information back from him, but chooses instead to talk about other matters, which is what Varys wanted.
On the matter of Varys' choosing to support the Lannisters or Stannis, Varys once again tries to confuse Tyrion with riddles and not directly answer the question;

"He accuses my brother and sister of incest. I wonder how he came by that suspicion." "Perhaps he read a book and looked at the color of a bastard's hair, as Ned Stark did, and Jon Arryn before him. Or perhaps someone whispered it in his ear." The eunuch's laugh was not his usual giggle, but deeper and more throaty. "Someone like you, perchance?" "Am I suspected? It was not me." "If it had been, would you admit it?" "No. But why should I betray a secret I have kept so long? It is one thing to deceive a king, and quite another to hide from the cricket in the rushes and the little bird in the chimney. Besides, the bastards were there for all to see." - ACOK - TYRION III

We know for certain that Varys didn't want the WotFK to start so soon or for the truth of Cersei's children to come out in AGOT because he wanted more time for Viserys' forces to grow in strength and come closer to Westeros in order to invade, either to take the throne for themselves or be the ones to kill the beloved Robert Baratheon and paint themselves as villainous usurpers to make fAegon more heroic and not taint him with Robert's blood on his hands.
However, like with Cersei and Tyrion, Varys needs to tell those on the Small Council a certain amount of secretive information in order to gain their trust and support, including Stannis. That Varys even chooses to give a deeper and more unsettling laugh about the matter is another example of him openly laughing about his treachery in Tyrion's face and Tyrion not realising it.
When Tyrion almost stumbles upon this ruse and Varys realises that his laugh was too deep and questionable, Varys tries to brush it off by saying its harder to keep a secret secret if so many people are investigating it, and insists that there were so many of Robert's bastards to find for Stannis to figure out the truth on his own. But again, this last statement from Varys is littered with half-truths.
Varys insists it is hard to keep deceiving King Robert about the truth of his children's true parentage, and even harder to keep deceiving the truth from those who are deliberately looking for the truth and wanting to find it. This in itself is a reference to his believe that Stannis was always power-hungry for the Iron Throne, and was just looking for an excuse to try to claim it for himself as Robert's true heir, regardless of whether or not Cersei's children were Robert's or not.
But his own comment about "betraying a secret I have held for so long" is a direct allusion to fAegon's existence, and his determination not to reveal the truth of his existence to anyone, including Tyrion.
Even when Tyrion rides with Illyrio and Jon Connington's entourage in ADWD, Tyrion is only led to believe that they are going to support Daenerys' claim for the Iron Throne, and has to work out for himself that fAegon is actually Aegon and the one Varys and Illyrio wish to crown;

Young Griff hesitated. "Lannister? Your father—" "—is dead. At my hand. If it please Your Grace to call me Yollo or Hugor, so be it, but know that I was born Tyrion of House Lannister, trueborn son of Tywin and Joanna, both of whom I slew. Men will tell you that I am a kingslayer, a kinslayer, and a liar, and all of that is true … but then, we are a company of liars, are we not? Take your feigned father. Griff, is it?" The dwarf sniggered. "You should thank the gods that Varys the Spider is a part of this plot of yours. Griff would not have fooled the cockless wonder for an instant, no more than it did me. No lord, my lordship says, no knight. And I'm no dwarf. Just saying a thing does not make it true. Who better to raise Prince Rhaegar's infant son than Prince Rhaegar's dear friend Jon Connington, once Lord of Griffin's Roost and Hand of the King?" "Be quiet." Griff's voice was uneasy. - ADWD - TYRION V

After Tyrion works out the truth and manipulates both fAegon and Jon Connington into riding for Westeros instead of joining forces with Daenerys, he disappears and goes off to seek her out.
This likely angers Varys, and is the reason why Varys no longer affectionately calls Tyrion by his name or by '"lord" and instead refers to him as "the imp" in ADWD's epilogue, a term that Varys knows Tyrion hates;

Ser Kevan tried to rise, but the strength had left him. He could not feel his legs. "I thought the crossbow fitting. You shared so much with Lord Tywin, why not that? Your niece will think the Tyrells had you murdered, mayhaps with the connivance of the Imp. The Tyrells will suspect her. Someone somewhere will find a way to blame the Dornishmen. Doubt, division, and mistrust will eat the very ground beneath your boy king, whilst Aegon raises his banner above Storm's End and the lords of the realm gather round him." "Aegon?" For a moment he did not understand. Then he remembered. A babe swaddled in a crimson cloak, the cloth stained with his blood and brains. "Dead. He's dead." - ADWD - EPILOGUE

Varys chooses to frame Tyrion for Kevan's murder, **deliberately and intentionally further putting his life in danger by Cersei's wrath, already knowing that Tyrion has a large bounty on his head because of her, and talks lowly of Tyrion by calling him an "Imp" and referring to his "connivance" in a very scorned tone.
Varys never considered Tyrion a friend or ally in ASOIAF and was just using him, another lie that he tells throughout the series, and by the end of ADWD, he hates Tyrion for his scheming and knowing too much information than Varys wished him to know.
But there is a bigger telling point about how much Varys uses Tyrion, and a more ground-breaking twist in the narrative that reflects both how much Varys underestimates Tyrion and how much Varys never cared for him;
In ASOS, Varys didn't tell Tyrion how to reach the Tower of the Hand to go and kill Tywin. Varys told him this key information so that Tyrion could go and kill Shae instead, who Varys considered a greater threat to him.
Shae is one of the few, perhaps the only, people in ASOIAF to see through Varys' disguises;

A whiff of something rank made him turn his head. Shae stood in the door behind him, dressed in the silvery robe he'd given her. I loved a maid as white as winter, with moonglow in her hair. Behind her stood one of the begging brothers, a portly man in filthy patched robes, his bare feet crusty with dirt, a bowl hung about his neck on a leather thong where a septon would have worn a crystal. The smell of him would have gagged a rat. "Lord Varys has come to see you," Shae announced. The begging brother blinked at her, astonished. Tyrion laughed. "To be sure. How is it you knew him when I did not?" She shrugged. "It's still him. Only dressed different." - ACOK - TYRION X

This catches Varys off guard, and any chance of seeing him being angry or looking threatened is waved away from the reader when Tyrion laughs it off and turns his attention again to his paramour Shae.
Wearing disguises is a very important part of Varys' many schemes, including visiting Ned Stark in the Black Cells as the gaoler Rugen;

"Wine," a voice answered. It was not the rat-faced man; this gaoler was stouter, shorter, though he wore the same leather half cape and spiked steel cap. "Drink, Lord Eddard." He thrust a wineskin into Ned's hands. The voice was strangely familiar, yet it took Ned Stark a moment to place it. "Varys?" he said groggily when it came. He touched the man's face. "I'm not … not dreaming this. You're here." The eunuch's plump cheeks were covered with a dark stubble of beard. Ned felt the coarse hair with his fingers. Varys had transformed himself into a grizzled turnkey, reeking of sweat and sour wine. "How did you … what sort of magician are you?" - AGOT - EDDARD XV

His disguise as Rugen is very important to Varys' plans after Tyrion's disappearance from King's Landing, as Varys seeks to frame Rugen as a Tyrell puppet who broke Tyrion from imprisonment on the Tyrells' behalf, to sow division and further paranoia between Cersei and the Tyrells;

Gold, yes, but the moment Cersei took it she could tell that it was wrong. Too small, she thought, too thin. The coin was old and worn. On one side was a king's face in profile, on the other side the imprint of a hand. "This is no dragon," she said. "No," Qyburn agreed. "It dates from before the Conquest, Your Grace. The king is Garth the Twelfth, and the hand is the sigil of House Gardener." Of Highgarden. Cersei closed her hand around the coin. What treachery is this? Mace Tyrell had been one of Tyrion's judges, and had called loudly for his death. Was that some ploy? Could he have been plotting with the Imp all the while, conspiring at Father's death? With Tywin Lannister in his grave, Lord Tyrell was an obvious choice to be King's Hand, but even so . . . "You will not speak of this with anyone," she commanded. - AFFC - CERSEI II

But this ploy to incite conflict between the Lannisters and Tyrells would have failed if Shae had lived, as she had seen through Varys' disguises and could've warned Cersei of it, something which Varys could not allow, especially given that he considered her one of Cersei's pawns after Tyrion's trial.
It is also fundamentally not in Varys' interest for Tyrion to kill Tywin, as keeping Tywin alive for now would ensure the Dornish would have someone to rise up and seek vengeance against for Elia's murder. As readers are shown in AFFC and ADWD Dornish chapters, the Martells are divided and frankly confused about how to seek vengeance for Elia's murder now that Tywin, Gregor and Armory Lorch - the three men involved in her murder - are now dead. **If Tywin had lived, Varys could've played on the Dornish thirst for vengeance against him and had fAegon promise them it in exchange for their support, something which they likely would've agreed to.
So by this point in the post, we've explored some of the key lies of Varys' character to know for sure what he is not;

• He is not the victim of slavery or a sacrificial victim to magical fires, nor does he abhor those who worship R'hllor or magical flames
  
• He does not hate the killing and suffering of innocent children, and has actually sought to profit from it in the past
  
• He has never been a friend or ally to Tyrion Lannister but has instead used him, and even manipulated him into killing Shae to protect one of Varys' own future schemes
  

So who is the real Varys? Behind all of these lies and deceptions, who is he really deep down?
Well, Varys is not a eunuch, and in fact fAegon's true father by blood. Varys has deliberately spent his life lying about being a eunuch in order to discourage people from the truth that he is the father of fAegon by Illyrio’s sister, and wants to control the Iron Throne through fAegon.
Recall Varys' conversation with Tyrion in ACOK that I previously cited earlier;

"He accuses my brother and sister of incest. I wonder how he came by that suspicion." "Perhaps he read a book and looked at the color of a bastard's hair, as Ned Stark did, and Jon Arryn before him. Or perhaps someone whispered it in his ear." The eunuch's laugh was not his usual giggle, but deeper and more throaty. "Someone like you, perchance?" "Am I suspected? It was not me." "If it had been, would you admit it?" "No. But why should I betray a secret I have kept so long? It is one thing to deceive a king, and quite another to hide from the cricket in the rushes and the little bird in the chimney. Besides, the bastards were there for all to see." - ACOK - TYRION III

"Why should I betray a secret I have kept so long?" is the biggest hint towards fAegon's existence and Varys' own true motivations in the entire series. Varys makes this spur of the moment claim after being caught off guard by Tyrion and doesn't think it through before saying it and letting Tyrion realise there is more to him.
Varys was never castrated and he is not bald. He deliberately shaves his head to hide his true parentage and lies about being a eunuch to discourage people from believing that he is capable of fathering a child, a child with Blackfyre blood that he wishes to sit on the Iron Throne, a secret that Varys has cared for and kept so long.
The last time we see Varys in ADWD, he finally begins to tell the truth about fAegon's existence, and when he does, and speaks about the son he loves, he begins to speak in his real, deeper and non-emasculated voice;**

"Aegon?" For a moment he did not understand. Then he remembered. A babe swaddled in a crimson cloak, the cloth stained with his blood and brains. "Dead. He's dead." "No." The eunuch's voice seemed deeper. "He is here. Aegon has been shaped for rule since before he could walk. He has been trained in arms, as befits a knight to be, but that was not the end of his education. He reads and writes, he speaks several tongues, he has studied history and law and poetry. A septa has instructed him in the mysteries of the Faith since he was old enough to understand them. He has lived with fisherfolk, worked with his hands, swum in rivers and mended nets and learned to wash his own clothes at need. He can fish and cook and bind up a wound, he knows what it is like to be hungry, to be hunted, to be afraid. Tommen has been taught that kingship is his right. Aegon knows that kingship is his duty, that a king must put his people first, and live and rule for them." - ADWD - EPILOGUE

This is who Varys truly is - not a eunuch, not a victim of slavery or castration, not a man who weeps for the suffering of children, not a friend of Tyrion Lannister, but a loving father who wishes to cast a very large shadow over the greatest empire the world of ASOIAF has ever known.
TLDR:
Varys is not a eunuch but instead the father of fAegon, a secret he has spent his life protecting, and a lie he has spent his life telling to better protect his son.
Varys does not hate R'hllor or those who worship magical flames, his entire story about his manhood being sacrificed to flames is a lie he tells to gain Tyrion's trust in their efforts to defeat Stannis in ACOK. Varys is close friends with Illyrio, a man who praises R'hllor, and spent the early parts of his life encouraging Aerys to feed innocent people to the flames of wildfire.
Varys does not hate the suffering of innocent children, he was prepared to buy an innocent child from a man and sacrifice him in order to protect the "real" Aegon, he was prepared to abandon Rhaenys to her brutal death even if he could have saved her too and prepared to send Viserys and Daenerys into a doomed invasion of Westeros that would've led to their deaths just to make fAegon appear a more heroic saviour compared to them.
Varys was never a friend or ally to Tyrion but instead was using him ever since they first met. He has repeatedly withheld important information from him such as who hired Mandon Moore to kill Tyrion and how Stannis figured out the truth about Cersei's children, and on frequent occasions has nearly openly laughed in Tyrion's face at both his misfortune and the information Varys withheld from him. Varys also manipulated Tyrion into killing Shae so that she would not expose Varys' identity as Rugen and didn't trust Tyrion with the information about fAegon's existence, something that Tyrion had to figure out himself. Varys also talks lowly of Tyrion at the end of ADWD as a "conniving Imp" which reflects Varys' true feelings about Tyrion.
Varys has spent his life shaving his hair and lying about being a eunuch to discourage anyone from believing he could father fAegon and better protect him, so that fAegon could one day take the Iron Throne, and cast a very large shadow over the Targaryen Empire forever.
Thanks for reading, if you enjoyed this theory be sure to read some of my other theories below;
All the signs that Tywin directly gave the Mountain the order to badly mistreat Elia Martell
The Father Rhaegaer, the Son Jon and the Holy Ghost Ghost, religious symbolism
Mance Rayder is a servant of the Others
Leyton Hightower is the Lord of Light and Malora Maid is Quaithe
2022 archive of ASOIAF theories available at the bottom of this post

A/N: I just can't stop it seems. Please send help before I fry my brain coming up with these stories! But here's a short one for you all, enjoy!
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It had been many, many long decades since humanity had last been drawn into a war they would surely win. It had been hard fought though, their many victories snatched from the jaws of defeat on countless occasions, not just thanks to their own tenacity and expertise in warfare, but also thanks to their more supernatural allies, many of which were former humans. Werewolves, vampires, eldritch deities, ghosts bound to VHS tapes and of course the [REDACTED]. All had risen to fight the Empire, to defy the Ur’ad, and to secure humanity's future once again.
But this is not a tale of war, no no. This is a tale of some idiot criminals who decide it’s a good idea to mess with humanity yet again. A group of fools who have found an exceedingly human dwelling nestled deep within a lush, vibrant forest just as the suns began their descent. It was a quaint little house, only two stories tall but large enough for an average human family. There was a well maintained garden that wrapped around the front and side of the house, a small pond on the opposite side filled with aquatic lifeforms of less than sapient nature.
It was an idyllic place for a home, one that knew peace and joy. What was about to happen would be a very small bump on an otherwise smooth road. The criminals, low level gangsters with barely a braincell between them, were part of an equally idiotic gang that somehow, for all its poor choices, had managed to survive long enough to garner a reputation as being so incompetent they managed to be competent, as paradoxical as that may be. Having gotten lost in the forest while out on patrol, they had stumbled upon the home and decided that it was the perfect target for a good old time of breaking and entering. Maybe they could find something of value, after all anyone living this far from the city must surely be protecting something.
So, the five gangers sat on their haunches, their snouts sniffing the air and detecting something that didn’t seem quite right, but they had neither the foresight to figure it out, nor the willingness to do so in the first place.
Finally they decided it was time to put their vague outline of a plan in motion, it was dusk and that meant the humans would be growing more and more tired with every passing moment, thus it’d be the perfect time to strike as the denizens within could not even hope to resist as well as they normally would be able to. So the group began to creep forwards, falling onto all fours for better sneaking.
They were Un’el, scavengers. They most resembled hyenas with scales. They were not the most intelligent or innovative species, but they made good use of what intelligence they did have as early in their history their homeworld was used as a junkyard for anything the rest of the galaxy didn’t want or need anymore. At the time, nobody even knew they existed, so it was quite the surprise when all of a sudden there were ships filled with unknown aliens taking off from the planet.
So here they were, creeping up on a perfect little home in a perfect but large forest. When they reached the door they did what criminals are known to do. They broke in. However, instead of picking the lock or simply attempting to open the door in the event it was unlocked, they kicked the door in, plasma weapons raised and snarls in their throats.
They expected the screaming of women and children, of the fierce bellowing of a male. Instead, they were greeted by a short, slightly plump human woman in a quaint little sundress and with a shawl around her shoulders. She briefly looked surprised by the sudden entry appearance of aliens forcing their way into her home, but it was quickly replaced with a soft smile and holding up a tray of what appeared to be cookies in her oven mitt clad hands.
“Well, it’s about time. I was beginning to think you boys weren’t going to come say hello. Cookie?” She said, her tone jovial and unperturbed. The gangers stood there, utterly confused by this response to their sudden entrance. “Shame about the door, but I suppose it’ll give Victor something to do, he’s been getting bored lately and that-”
“Give us all your valuables!” One of the gangers barked, and the human woman blinked, the tray lowering slightly.
“Why?” She said, and the gangers paused. Surely she knew why, they had the guns and the numbers, and whoever this Victor was wouldn’t stand a chance against them either, so it was clear that they should just do whatever the gangers said.
“Because… because we have guns! We kill you if you don’t give us what we want!” Another said, and the human woman blinked, then her eyes widened slightly.
“Ahhh… I was hoping those were just toys.” She murmured, before clearing her throat. “But to answer your demand for our valuables, no.”
“No!? We kill! Give us valuables or you die! We burn house down!” They barked some more and the woman simply sighed, shaking her head as she set the tray aside.
“And I said no. We’re not going to-” She didn’t get to finish, as her body was soon riddled with plasma bolts. The scent of burnt flesh filled the room and she dropped like a bag of bricks, a somewhat pained and surprised look on her face. The gangers yipped with delight and began scooping up anything of value when they heard a new voice, one that was decidedly male.
“Oooh cookies! Bridget you shouldn’t hav-” The man paused in the entryway, having appeared from a set of stairs near the front door. The gangers all froze, staring at him as he finished slipping into a shirt and nodded. “Well, I suppose this is a robbery isn’t it? And I can see you’ve already met my wife.” He said, the gangers all raising their weapons to aim at him.
He looked strange, deathly pale and somehow both old and young at the same time. It was the eyes it seemed, they held an ancientness to them that was impossible for any normal human to possess, yet his exterior was vibrant and youthful, if a bit pale.
“Kill you! Like kill wife!” The ganger who’d first fired upon Bridget yipped and the man, Victor, nodded with a shrug.
“Sure I suppose. Just one question before I’m so ruthlessly murdered in cold blood.” He said, and the Un’el glanced at one another before the leader of the group waved his gun in assent. “You didn’t use silver to kill her did you? Those look like plasma weapons to me.”
This confused the gangers, who all frowned and then the leader spoke up again.
“Why use silver? Plasma best kill-kill!”
“Well you see, silver is the only thing that can kill her. Otherwise all you’re doing is slowing her down and well… She gets mighty angry sometimes, as you’re about to discover.” Victor smiled, clasping his hands behind his back and flashing a set of immaculate teeth, two of which were far longer than they should have been. From behind the Un’el came a soft rumbling which promptly turned into a deep and menacing growl. As one they slowly turned and were forced to tilt their heads back as the once small and plump form of a human woman rose into and became a hulking, athletic mass of muscle and fur, her fingers capped with wicked claws and her mouth elongating into a maw filled with long, sharp teeth. “I’m afraid to say, but you’ve picked the wrong house lads.”
The leader of the group turned back, only to find Victor had crossed the distance between them in the blink of an eye, and that his mouth was open and descending for his neck. The tranquil stillness of the forest around the home was rudely shattered by the sound of gunfire and the roar of a werewolf, before it went quiet once more. The animals, which had been quiet in the face of imminent danger, resumed their chirping and squeaking, and all was well.
Not eight hours later, a human walked up the path to the house, the uniform and badge he wore declaring him as law enforcement. As he stepped up to the front door he noted it had been recently repaired, not that well but well enough to be functional at least. So carefully he knocked on it and the response was prompt, the door swinging open on squeaky hinges and presenting him with the ever youthful visage of Victor.
“Evening Victor.” He said, tipping his hat to the vampire, who smiled broadly and nodded back.
“Why good evening to you too, Officer Thomson. What seems to be the problem?” Victor asked, leaning against the doorframe a bit.
“No problem, just the same old same old. Say, we seem to have lost track of a group of ne’er do wells wandering around this area. You wouldn’t have happened to seen or heard anything would you?” Thomson asked, and Victor turned slightly, looking over his shoulder at his wife who was currently knelt on the floor, a brush in one hand and a toothpick in the other. When she saw the police officer she smiled and waved, all while scrubbing at the very large streaks of purple blood on the floor.
“Can’t say I have officer, though should we, you’ll be the first to know.” Victor said, smiling warmly and Thomson nodded, tipping his hat to Bridget as well before taking a step back.
“Thank you kindly, your cooperation is highly appreciated folks.” Thomson said, not at all disturbed by the grisly scene inside the house. He started back down the path, giving them a wave as he did. “Stay safe, ya hear?”
“Will do officer! Have a lovely evening!” Bridget called out, and the door closed as Victor went to help his wife clean up.
And so, once again there was peace and tranquility in the world. And the house in the forest would remain undisturbed for many years to come.

Hi all, I posted a piece last week and got some good constructive feedback. (Thanks!) From that, I revised and figured I probably started in the wrong place (amongst the other issues mentioned). I've taken it all onboard and have attempted an improved opening piece.
Any time taken for feedback is hugely appreciated, please take a look below and let me know your thoughts. Either in general or on the following points: readability, style, tense, excitement, intrigue, character development, world-building, grammar, plot, etc.
(This isn't the full chapter but an excerpt. Keen to improve my writing skills/ability) - TIA
Would you read more? - Be honest.
Chapter 1: The Final
Kael had been in this position before. The large arena overflowing with spectators, a sea of people below with their eyes fixed on him, brimming with expectations of witnessing greatness once more. None more so than his father.
Everything Kael had. No. Everything, they had been training for came down to this moment. If they win this point, they win the cup. If they win the cup then he would make it. Playing with the big teams across the realms, being paid like the big teams. His family would be secure, safe. Happy.
He adjusted his position on his Lumicor at the heart of the arena. In moments like this, Kael found solace in focusing on the flying machine – a remarkable fusion of engineering and imagination. The Lumicor hovered effortlessly in the air. The craft embodying a seamless blend of a majestic bird and a small ship. Its intricate metalwork enhanced by polished wood. Emphasising the glowing crystalline elements that ran along the body to its aerodynamic wings extending gracefully from its sides.
Kael traced his fingers over the engraved words etched into the bronze-metal steering handles. To be great is to fail, to fail is to be great. His mother's words echoed in his mind. Memories of their past struggles resurfaced—the financial hardships, his mother's difficult upbringing as an abandoned child, and his father's laborious servitude to the Seers Council. Focus, Kael! He shook his head trying to ignore his father, and the Seers Council watching on from the boxed seats above.
Usually, it was just his father watching on, comforting, encouraging—even but today was different. The council members attended the big games. After all, it was they who had provided his Lumicors. Their presence, however, was intimidating. His father couldn't bare to watch, his hands covering his eyes. Kael shook his head again. Focus!
The task ahead was simple. Are these my words or my father’s? Kael looked out from the cockpit across the arena. The windshield glass was tinted ever so slightly, giving the view a golden hue. Usually, the epic atmosphere fuelled him with confidence but today it all felt so different. The enormous arena hung suspended in the sky, the outer structure a spinning cylinder with open ends revealing an endless expanse of sky. The interior walls, adorned with intricate patterns and enchanting murals, were typically grand and regal, but today they appeared overwhelming and needlessly complex. Dominating the arena stood the imposing crystalline obelisk, surrounded by twenty-seven floating crystals, thirteen blue and thirteen red.
“What’s the move, Kael?” Mayer, one of his teammates, called out from atop her own Lumicor, hovering adjacent to him. The machine identical to Kael’s, its birdlike wings a deep blue, perfectly matching the pulsating crystalline nose of the craft. Lines of the same vibrant blue ran down the side of the Lumicor, resembling veins eagerly pumping energy throughout the vessel.
“A five-one manoeuvre, Mayer. It needs to be a head-to-head. It’s the only way.” Was it the only way, he thought. The lack of self-assurance was unsettling to him.
Kael, palms sweating, gripped the controls tightly making way for the centre. From the other side of the arena, Lumicors clad in shimmering red trimmed attire, soared through the air towards the same spot. One unlit crystal remains, this is it. Shifting shape structures hanging in the air tracked menacingly across the arena, transforming from cuboid to pyramid, sphere to oblong. What made a great Skyshard player was learning the pattern of the changing shapes. If you could figure that out you had the advantage.
The final unlit crystal circled around the tip of the obelisk. The shifting shapes orbiting it in a synchronised motion. Kael positioned himself carefully for the perfect shot at the crystal, deftly evading the small, taunting shape-shifting structures. The nose of the Lumicor tapping the crystal turning it blue, the crowd cheering, the team winning, I Kael the hero. My father standing, proud. Kael ran this scenario a hundred times before in his mind. Now it was here about to happen.
“Mayer, five-one now,” he called out, his heart racing faster as his five teammates swiftly moved across the sky, engaging the opposing team and drawing away five of their players, leaving only one opponent on the opposite side of the obelisk, directly across from Kael.
Refocusing on the large, shape-shifting structure that stood between him and the crystal, Kael repeated the sequence in his mind. Oblong, cuboid, pyramid, sphere, oblong, cuboid... What if I make a mistake? His gaze involuntarily shifted toward his father, who sat in the stands with a clenched fist and a bowed head. The suffocating pressure enveloped Kael, his cloak seemed as though it just became a hundred times heavier, constricting his every movement.
As the large shape-shifting structure transformed from oblong to cuboid to pyramid to sphere and back again, time appeared to slow, granting Kael a surplus of time to think—perhaps even overthink. What if I make a mistake? What if I miss the chance? The pressure intensified with each passing second, the air in the cockpit felt as though it had been sucked out. Kael was sure the entire arena was holding its breath, the collective gaze of the spectators, players, and his father, fixated on him, waiting for his move.
Kael made his move. Surging the Lumicor forward with a burst of power. The structure between Kael and the final crystal abruptly shifted into a pyramid as expected, but to Kael's dismay, it was not as he had anticipated. Instead of a regular pyramid, it was an inverted one, one of its corners now directly in his path. The pattern, I misread, the pattern. Every third pyramid is inverted! He cursed himself.
Kael's Lumicor crashed headlong into the sharp corner of the inverted pyramid. The impact reverberated through his body, sending shockwaves of pain radiating from his shoulder. The collision disrupted his balance, causing him to lose control of his ride. He could hear the gasping of the audience as he and his Lumicor tumbled, crashing onto the floating platform below.
Pain lanced through his body as he lay sprawled on the ground, his vision swimming. The weight of his failure heavier than a hundred cloaks, as tough the arena itself bore down on him. The hushed muttering of the crowd amplifying what had just happened. Kael looked up to his father’s seat but he was nowhere to be seen.

So basically a person is considered a Pathstrider if their will overlaps with the 'characteristics' of his/her Path, right? But how does it really work? Do you just automatically become a Pathstrider if you 'believe' in it really strongly A.K.A. "Clap your hands if you believe it?" Or do you have to actually walk the walk?
I think it would be lovely if there is a future storyline that dig into it. In HSR, the Gods/Aeons exist, and people have proofs of them. People also know that a lot of time you have got to do something really big, really loud in order to attract the attention of these otherwise indifferent beings.
So that leave us with a question: If you don't believe in the Path you walk, but you still walk it because you believe at the reward at the end of the road, would you still be considered a Pathstrider, and would it ultimately be a folly to do so? On face value, this is actually less ridiculous than it sounds because:
...The Aeons exist outside of every moral system, with the exception of Akivili. They don't care about what you have to do to walk the Paths, how much it stains your morality, or even how much your faith and identity are constructed around it. As long you uphold certain things strong enough, you will draw their eyes.
But then you could also argue that if you don't believe in something, how can you put all of your heart into it, and what you do will be ultimately insignificant. And sometimes the Aeons care about the attitude of their followers too, like Nanook's disdain for the Annihilation Gang or Aha's amusement toward the Mourning Actors.
All of that is to say: The Trailblazers are kind of cheating. The Stellaron inside them definitely causes a resonance with the Aeons, making it easier for them to draw the eyes of the Aeons. Just look at what they did to earn the blessing of Qlipoth, something that generations of Belobog's Supreme Guardians failed to do.
They definitely need that leg up though if they want to face against Nanook. Also, could you imagine from a storyline and gameplay perspective that how hard things will be without the Stellaron to smooth things out? Like, you are not going to draw Nous's gaze unless you already are a member of the Genius Society, or having accomplished a feat greater than what has already been done by the Intelligentsia Guild.

(I'm feeling writer's block for my main story, so I'm taking some time to develop some characters that I made before this for another universe that I made up. Since this can be self contained, I'm going to find another platform to post it once it's finished and edited.)
Earl never doubted that there was a God, but he did doubt that he had anyone’s best interests at heart.
He remembered a time before this began, the relative normalcy. They had their house, television, no picket fence, but that was fine. He remembered watching Saturday morning cartoons until his younger brother would tug on his shirt to come play with him. It was idyllic, at least in his mind’s eye. Life felt good enough, not enough to complain, at least in hindsight. Play, school, grounding, time out, family meals.
The family kept one small secret, however. His parents sat him down when he was young. He was too young to remember the full extent of the conversation, but he learned that he was the descendent of angels like the rest of his family. He remembered feeling elated by his lineage. He remembered seeing a picture of an angelic hero alongside the other heroes taking down the big baddie on TV. The one thing he could remember, however, was his mother telling him.
“Remember, that’s your secret identity, okay? If you show someone else, you might lose the ability to fight evil forever. When you get older, you can be a hero.” That satisfied him, a detail that he would wonder about later in his life. He imagined wings that could extend from one wall to another, wings that could carry him anywhere he wanted.
Things began to change a little while after his father lost his job. Earl could never be sure if it was just coincidence, or people like them just smelled blood. His parents would be gone on Wednesday night for meetings with the group. They would drive out a couple towns over, where adults would meet, and the kids were shepherded into another area, where a younger adult would talk about righteousness, being a good angel, and respecting one’s heritage. Earl’s eyes widened when the head showed his own wings, tinted in browns and red’s like a bird’s. It was around this time that he was beginning to feel the pain and tingles in his back, that his wings were coming too. He couldn’t describe why, but he wanted to keep his brother close, as if his fear was that if he lost sight of him, then he would never find him again in the sea of people.
Despite purporting himself to be an extrovert, it was hard to talk to some of the other people in the youth group. They didn’t watch any of his favorite shows and read any of his favorite books. When he tried mentioning the Sea of Swords series, one of the girls made a face and replied, “Ew, that’s the one where the demon has a romance with the holy knight, right?”
“Yeah, but it’s so great because they—” He began to trail off as the other people in the group began to visibly tune him out. He allowed the conversation to fade out, his chest swelling with a weight that felt like something between guilt and anger. He looked out of the circle of people to watch Leo running around with the other kids, playing something like tag. A couple days later, his mother called Earl into the kitchen, his father sitting with her.
“I heard from another one of the moms that you were reading some kind of smut?” Earl thought back.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” He said, not only trying to be as sincere as he could muster, but adding a little extra in case they thought he was playing dumb.
“Don’t play dumb with me, mister,” It looks like he miscalculated, “I am talking about the demon-angel smut you’re reading.”
“Sea of Swords?” There was that weight again, “You were the one who got me those books!”
“Mind your tone in front of your father, Earl.” His mother said, “We had no idea that kind of content was in that book we got you.” She took a short but audible breath, as if her inhalation would aid her in choosing her next words carefully.
“Books like those are trying to trick you into thinking thoughts unbecoming of an angel.” She said, “If you read those kinds of books, then you’ll turn to sin.”
“But they’re not bad books! They teach things like teamwork and loyalty, and—“
“That it’s okay to turn away from holiness to achieve your goals? That you can turn to darkness whenever it suits you?” His father’s eyes trained on him in a way that made his fingers numb and his arms cold.
“No, if you read them I swear—“
“This isn’t an argument, son. I want you to go up to your room and bring those books down right now.”
“But—“
“Don’t make me ask you again.” Earl reluctantly relinquished them to his parents. He put the books on the table. His back burned with his fledgling wings. He didn’t talk to his family for the rest of the night.
Earl was the most vehemently opposed to moving away. School has become a save haven for him. His friends let him borrow Sea of Swords volume 4 so that he could read it during homeroom and lunch, and he had felt himself growing away from his family. The sermons at the angelic gatherings began to feel like slosh in his head, and he had turned into an expert at tuning it out in favor of imagining what it would be like if they had never started coming here. He begged and cried, but his family had already sold the house and were moving to a settlement of angels. Leo, while sad that he was leaving his friends, was more excited because some of his group friends were going to be there.

Some of you might remember that I had posted about being super enraged and angry about my TF situation recently.
Again, that anger was the catalyst that propelled me to reach out and speak my truth regarding something my TF did (or rather didn’t do) that was extremely hurtful to me.
Actually it was the fiercest confrontation that I’ve had with my TF. I was unwaveringly rooted in my anger and I called him out big time.
That conversation ended up seriously shifting the tide between us. The level of care and respect and humility and understanding and accountability he showed me actually astounded me. His way of being the masculine is so incredibly soothing to me. He even affirmed that my intense reaction was justified and that he’s glad I reached out.
We went from over a year of separation & NC to a heart to heart in April back to a 2 month NC and now we’ve agreed that we need a middle ground of communication. So now we’ve been sending each other long voice notes and it’s the first we’ve heard each other’s voices since I met him to end our friendship back in January of 22’.
I have been reflecting on the trajectory of this journey so far. How much courage is required on both sides but also how much the feminine’s heart guides the connection.
As DFs, cherishing and honoring our emotions and our spiritual wisdom is key. The DM must know when he is wrong. The DM must know how you feel. Otherwise, don’t always expect him to figure it all out, much less sooner rather than later. My TF thought he was doing the right thing and realized after I broke the silence how wrong he was for making the decision that he did. He appreciated me for calling him out.
Among other intense syncs recently, I actually fully believe this man is my TF now just based on his responses and his handling of the issue. I no longer have doubt. DFs don’t be afraid. Speak to your DM but also pick your battles. Both of you will be better for it.

I love my boyfriend very much. We've been together 5 years and I've only had eyes for him. We bought a place together and have animals. So this isn't a relationship I want to lose.
8 months ago I met this guy who's a small public figure. (Could subconsciously be the reason I like him) He messaged me on and off after meeting and was occasionally flirty. I did tell him that I had a bf, but I think he ignored that or forgot. A week ago he asked when we were going to hang out. I knew I should have said I can't because I have a bf, but instead I said I'd be in his area on Saturday. So I ended up going to his house. I had a great time, I love being around him. We hung out then later sat on the couch together to watch a show. and every so often he would lay his head on me or cuddle me, which I rejected and he was very nice about that. I felt so safe and comfortable with him though. He asked if he could kiss me a few times (a part of me wanted to) but I didn't want to cheat on my bf so I declined. Then I went home.
Ever since that night I've been depressed and crying. Some of it is guilt, but the other part is I really like being around this guy. In the middle of the week I asked if he could hang out on Saturday because it was just so hard not to talk to him. he said he had to work but that he was off Sunday. (my bf and I are hanging out today, so I told him I was busy)
Other things in my mind: this guy doesn't text me a lot. Which makes me thing he just wanted to hook up and also I'm not sure if he'll text me again. It could be weeks or months. In a perfect world him and I could be friends, because I selfishly want him in my life. I'm also sad because I'm not sure if he even cares if I'm in his life. And thirdly that shouldn't even matter to me because I have a boyfriend. So I'm just confused. I know I should just move on, but it's almost as painful as a breakup. I wanted to ask him if he just wanted to hookup with me or could we be just friends? But I feel like that sounds needy. I also want to talk to my bf about this..maybe not that I have a crush on this other guy, but I need to explain some stuff because for the last week I've been on the verge of tears and not in the mood to do things with my bf.
My bf also knows about this other guy and that we've texted before. I've always been transparent with him until now. Any advice would help. Right now I want to either tell my bf what's been going on and hopefully when he gets past the anger he can help me with these feelings. Or inwant to text this other guy and ask where I stand in his life. I'm stuck so any advice would be appreciated.

I spend every waking second with my 4 month old baby. I do the nighttime wake ups, with her all morning and afternoon until my husband comes home to take her for an hour while I cook. I love her so so much and love spending time with her. She will smile and coo at me.
But when my in-laws come over she is a different baby. She looks at them with such loving eyes, babbles up a storm, smiles the whole time and even laughs! She has never laughed with me and I'm in no way a passive parent. I take her on walks, talk to her all day, make animal sounds, sing, dance, always do new activities with her and when she's napping, I research and think of new things for us to do together.
My baby doesn't care at all when I leave the house and definitely doesn't care when I come back. She won't even look at me. When my in-laws come in, she immediately looks at them and smiles, will stop crying and smile at them.
I don't calm my baby down, I can't make her laugh. There's nothing I can do that anyone else in the world can't. I feel so helpless and hopeless that I messed up somewhere along the line and just don't have a connection with my little one.
I feel so selfish staying home with her and keeping her to myself when clearly she's so much happier with other people and should probably just be in daycare.

Stefanie's Trans Beauty Journey By Sissy Tania
In a tale that's quite absurd, There was a man named Steve, I've heard, Caught red-handed by his wife, dear Amy, In her bra and panties, oh my, how uncanny!
Amy, with a mischievous grin on her face, Threatened Steve with a most peculiar chase. "If you don't agree to my crazy request, I'll tell your dear mother, you can't contest!"
Steve, startled and filled with dismay, Had no choice but to heed what she'd say. He agreed to Amy's outrageous demand, And off they went, hand in hand.
Dressed in short dresses and heels so high, Steve and Amy caught the passersby's eye. Off they ventured to a beauty salon fair, Where Steve's transformation awaited him there.
With nail polish and lipstick, his makeover began, Makeup was applied with a skillful hand. A perm hairstyle was crafted with care, Steve's reflection transformed, beyond compare.
Amy, delighted by Steve's feminine guise, Exclaimed, "Oh Stefanie, you've won the prize! You look like a woman, so elegant and sweet, You're a vision of beauty, from head to feet!"
Stefanie, now the name he embraced, Posed for a photoshoot, no time to waste. Captured in frames, so graceful and serene, Stefanie's presence shone like a star, unseen.
Her photos caught the eye of a magazine grand, "Trans Beauty" it was called, the best in the land. Stefanie, gracing the cover, a symbol of pride, Her transformation celebrated far and wide.
So, in this whimsical tale, you see, Steve's adventure into femininity. With courage and acceptance, he found his place, A journey of self-expression and grace.
In sissy tania's realm, where dreams unfold, Crossdressing tales of beauty are told, A world where colors blend, and hearts ignite, Join me on this journey, embrace your light.

A quick note on pegging… This is not going to be an instruction manual; there are plenty of those already. This is more about how it makes me feel.
Being penetrated is a very intimate sex act that everyone should experience, regardless of your gender or perceived sexual orientation. Being a woman, I am obviously quite familiar with being penetrated during sex but first time I was the one doing the penetrating… it was a life-changing experience and such a rush of emotions.
The first time I used a strap-on was with a woman and, emotionally, penetrating her was so beautiful that, afterwards, I was a changed person. We held each other and, frankly, a was a little teary eyed. The most profound detail was how she lovingly took me inside of her, such grace in that beautiful act of femineity. I felt so special to be the one inside of her. When I’m penetrated, and I take you inside of me, I’m giving all of me to you. I had no idea that when you penetrate, you can feel your partner giving themselves to you and just how very special that moment is for you both. Now, the other side of penetrating is the control I got to experience. I decided how she would be fucked. My thrusts ventured deeply inside of her body… inside her most delicate and guarded area. I felt intoxicatedly powerful.
Now, when you peg a man, it’s all those things AND SO MUCH MORE!! As a woman, being powerful during vaginal penetrative sex is more about your confidence than anything else because you are still the one getting fucked, even if you’re with the most caring and gentle lover. You are powerful for feeling how valuable your sex is and that you CHOOSE to give yourself to your partner. Now, when you peg a man… OMG! WOW! You probably feel MORE power and MORE control than what a man feels when he fucks you!

Article: VisionQuest Faces Numerous Lawsuits Over Claims of Physical and Sexual Abuse of Minors
May 23, 2023
From the article:
​

VisionQuest (“VQ”) is yet again in the headlines over allegations of turning a blind eye to the physical and sexual abuse of children committed by staff members. VisionQuest runs multiple facilities to care for children who were adjudicated delinquent or found to be dependent, under the theory that VQ would help them successfully reintegrate into society. However, recently, former residents of the company’s facilities have started to bring VisionQuest child abuse lawsuits after disclosing the horrific abuses they experienced while in the care of VisionQuest.
If you or your child was placed in a VisionQuest facility and suffered physical or sexual abuse at the hands of staff members, you may have a legal claim against VisionQuest. VisionQuest was trusted by parents, children and state governments, and based on many corroborated accounts, appears to have violated that trust by allegedly ignoring claims of rampant child abuse. Those interested in learning more about bringing a VisionQuest lawsuit should reach out to a child abuse injury lawyer for assistance.

​

What Is VisionQuest?
VisionQuest is a company that provides live-in care and guidance to juveniles involved in delinquency and dependency proceedings. Delinquency is the term used to describe a minor who engages in conduct that, if committed by an adult, would be considered a crime. Dependency proceedings are used to provide care to juveniles who do not have legal guardians or whose guardians were deemed unfit to care for them.
VisionQuest operates several different programs, including functional family therapy, community-based services, services for unaccompanied children, and foster care. However, the majority of complaints against the company stem from abuse committed against children who were adjudicated delinquent and placed in the custody of VisionQuest.
What Are the Allegations Against VisionQuest About?
Thousands of former VQ residents have recently started to openly discuss a range of abuses that they endured while living in VisionQuest facilities. These allegations include
Using excessive force;
Physically restraining child residents; and
Engaging in sexual abuse of minor residents.
As a company that is supposed to be caring for children and teaching them to live successful, independent lives, VisionQuest has a duty to ensure the safety of residents. Clearly, any substantiated claim of physical or sexual abuse is a violation of this duty, which may mean that VisionQuest is financially liable to victims for the harm they experienced.

​
Please, if you attended VisionQuest, have a loved one who attended VisionQuest, please discuss your situation with an attorney who is involved in holding VisionQuest accountable. Abuse victims deserve compensation.

Hello there!
I made this silly cringy presentation for you! However, if it's not a good enough reason to send me a message here's a little bit more about myself. I tried posting before, but it's a boring rainy day and I thought I could give it another go.
I'm Tiziano, 27, from Italy. I'm a med student, but I have a huge variety of interests. You could say my scientific background comes with a big love for humanistic subjects (history, philosophy, literature and art). You could in fact say I am a little bit of a history nerd, which is always a good reason to justify random trios and travels to learn more and explore the world.
I'm always curious about meeting new people, discovering about their cultures and feel the excitement and joy given by the desire of seeing what they are passionate about or what we could have in common. I would say I am a good conversationalist (as long as you don't mind sarcastic jokes and flirty remarks). I can obviously speak Italian (and yes, I have an accent), so I could compliment you in multiple languages. I would say I have a pretty dominant personality.
In my free time I enjoy being active (I go regularly to the gym, I love kayaking and hiking). I also like doing yoga and stretching sessions. As I said before I love traveling, wish I was born a billionaire to spend my life around the globe. I like reading (anything really from mangas to novels to the news in the morning), watching movies and TV series. I like taking care of my plants and I'm a proud cat dad of three. I am not much of a gamer, but I love board games with friends.
Physical wise I'm decently fit, I have blue eyes, and brown hair. Anyway I'm sure you have already seen a good amount of pictures of myself.
To sound more interesting I will tell you some of the things I dislike the most:

• Arrogance and ignorance
• Bitter Espresso
• Long Queues
• Alfredo sauce
• Pollution and people denying global warming

If you can relate or are simply bored feel free to drop a chat request.
See you soon! :)
P.S. If you don't know what to say to begin the conversation tell me which animal you'd love to become or your wildest drunk story!
P.P.S. Say something more than just "hey"

As darkened clouds loomed overhead, lightning tore through the sky, illuminating the dark forest with a brilliant burst of light. The crackling energy split the heavens, casting jagged veins of illumination across the landscape. The resounding BOOM that followed reverberated through the air, shaking the very foundation of Cornelia's cozy cabin. Inside, she reclined in her plush chair, enveloped in its welcoming embrace. A soft, crackling warmth emanated from the fireplace, casting a gentle glow that bathed the room in a comforting radiance. She sighed contentedly, the flickering flames casting dancing shadows on the walls, as if they were performers in a mesmerizing show.
"A good sign, isn't that right, Wendy?" Cornelia whispered, her voice a delicate murmur filled with reassurance and affection.
“Wendy wike wain,” said Wendy, with her lustrous ebony-colored fluff, nestled against Cornelia's stomach, her presence a velvety touch against her skin. The room filled with a soft, contented humming as Wendy expressed her happiness.
Cornelia smiled as her pale fingers traced gentle paths along Wendy's back, their movements a tender caress. Her gaze drifted to the window, where nature orchestrated a symphony of raindrops cascading against the glass. Each droplet carried its own rhythm, harmonizing with the crackling fire to create a symphony of soothing melodies.
As Cornelia admired Wendy, a sense of curiosity began to blossom within her. Were there other fluffies out there with the same unique hue? Elves and wealthy humans often boasted vibrant and diverse-colored fluffies in their care, while the "street-rat" fluffies that roamed alleyways possessed more muted variations. Yet, Wendy's fur was a rarity—pure black that held an air of mystique.
Whispers had spread among the villages, snaking through ears and fuelling imaginations. Tales, distorted and embellished, spoke of a sinister pact between Cornelia and the Demon Vlae. In their twisted narratives, the villagers claimed that the evil spirit-lord resided within Wendy, bestowing upon her the cloak of inky blackness.
Cornelia knew these rumours to be falsehoods, mere figments of overactive imaginations, but that did little to quell the villagers' misguided intentions. Not wanting the villagers to burn her at the stake, Cornelia made a deliberate choice to slip away into the embrace of the ancient woods. There, among the towering sentinels of bark and the rustling tapestry of fallen leaves, she sought solace and a life of peace with Wendy.
Just as Cornelia and Wendy began to settle into a tranquil nap, an insistent knocking on the cabin door shattered the serene atmosphere. The abrupt interruption stirred them from their drowsy state, pulling them back into the realm of uncertainty and peril.
Ygor knocked on the door with the force of a strong but controlled thunder. The heavy wooden door swung open by itself, revealing a flaming shadow with crimson eyes that glare into his very soul.
“You do not disturb a witch’s nap you...” scowled Cornelia but she paused upon seeing a sad yet familiar ogre standing before her.
In the ogre's hands, cradled gently like a fragile treasure, was an injured blue fluffy curled up into a ball. The fluffy's delicate hooves pressed against her belly as she whimpered in pain, her soft cries filling the air with a heart-wrenching melody. The scent of fear and desperation clung to her, mingling with the damp earthiness that permeated the cabin.
Cornelia's piercing gaze softened, her eyes lingering on the wounded blue fluffy nestled in Ygor's hands. The dancing flames of the crackling fireplace painted shifting shadows on her face, accentuating the genuine concern etched across her soft features.
“Ygor?” asked Cornelia, her voice a gentle murmur that wrapped around the room.
“Ygor need help, widdle fluffy hurt” replied Ygor, his voice filled with a mix of deep worry and desperation.
"Bring her inside," Cornelia replied, stepping aside and waited for the giant ogre to enter her home. "Don't worry, the cabin is bigger on the inside," she reassured him, her words imbued with a touch of enchantment.
Ygor carefully stepped into the cabin, his massive form casting long shadows against the sturdy wooden walls. Inside, he found himself awestruck by the magic in the cabin. The air is alive with ethereal energy, a tangible testament to Cornelia's formidable abilities.
With deliberate grace, Ygor approached Cornelia, his every movement infused with cautious tenderness. The crackling flames of the fireplace cast a soft, golden glow that danced and flickered, creating a mesmerizing play of light and shadows across the room.
Cornelia placed a soft, crimson blanket on the smooth surface of the wooden table, its vibrant hue contrasting against the rustic backdrop of the cabin. Cornelia's voice resonated with warmth and reassurance as she spoke; her words carrying the echoes of countless months spent mastering witchcraft.
"It's one of the first spells I had to learn as a witch, so don't worry about trying to fit in," Cornelia assured Ygor, her tone comforting like a soft caress.
"Now, tell me what happened," Cornelia gently prompted, her voice a melodic invitation to share their burdens.
Her empathetic eyes fixed upon Ygor and the poor fluffy, eagerly awaiting their tale of woe. The fire crackled and the raindrops tapped against the window, forming a soothing symphony that seemed to draw the elements closer, eager to listen and offer solace.
“Ygor fed fwuffy raw meat, now fwuffy tummy hurts,” Ygor explained.
“wed’ meat? Fwuffies nu’ eat wed’ meat” Wendy exclaimed, her eyes widened with fear and confusion.
“Put her on the table!” Cornelia's command sliced through the air, her voice resonating with authority as she directed Ygor to carefully place the injured fluffy on the plush red blanket that adorned the sturdy wooden table.
With eager determination, Wendy scurried towards Cornelia. The little fluffy snatched a flask from a nearby shelf. The green liquid concocted from the nearby river and the roots of an ancient tree glowed inside the flask. The aromatic scent of the potion wafted through the air, mingling with the comforting aroma of burning wood. Ygor's sensitive nose caught a hint of bones in the fragrance, causing him to raise an eyebrow in curiosity.
“Ygor smell bones” said Ygor upon picking up a strange scent coming from the flask.
"It's just the potion, Ygor. You can sit near the bookshelf; I'll handle this," reassured Cornelia as she guided Ygor to a seat beside the collection of well-worn tomes. His heavy footsteps resonated against the wooden floor, creating a gentle vibration that shook the nearby furniture.
Meanwhile, Wendy, her ebony-colored fluff rustling with each hurried step, made her way to the kitchen. The soft tapping of her little legs echoed through the cabin, the sound blending with the crackling fire and the rhythmic pitter-patter of rain against the window. Guided by Cornelia's request, Wendy retrieved a bowl of ash and garlic, their distinct scents mingling in the air, creating a heady mixture of earthiness and protection.
Cornelia's hands moved with practiced precision, like a knife gliding through the cloves of garlic as if guided by an invisible force. With each expert stroke, the pungent aroma of freshly cut garlic permeated the air, mingling with the earthy scent of the wooden table.
Once the garlic lay in neat, small pieces, Cornelia turned her attention to the bowl. She poured the green liquid into its depths, a shimmering cascade that glimmered like emerald flames. As the liquid settled, Cornelia's voice hummed with an incantation, her words carrying the weight of ancient knowledge and power.
In an instant, a flicker of green fire sprang to life, dancing atop the surface of the liquid. Its ethereal glow cast a surreal illumination, transforming the ordinary bowl into a vessel of enchantment. Shadows flickered and played upon the cabin walls, as if the very room had become a stage for magic itself.
Ygor's gaze locked onto Blue, his eyes filled with concern as he witnessed her unconscious. Despite her silent state, his sensitive ears detected faint, almost imperceptible whimpering that tugged at his heartstrings.
In a mesmerizing display of magic, a radiant golden light took the form of Cornelia's hand, delicately reaching towards the green flame. As her hand made contact, a breathtaking transformation ensued. The liquid within the bowl seemed to defy gravity, soaring out of its confines with graceful fluidity. It floated in the air, suspended like a glistening bubble, casting an iridescent glow that bathed the cabin in a surreal radiance.
The floating liquid became a canvas for the dancing and shimmering golden light, which traced intricate patterns written in the runes of magic. With every subtle movement and shift, the elixir responded, guided by Cornelia's hand, as if it were alive. The soft, ethereal hum resonated through the cabin, its gentle vibrations filling the air and contributing to the enchanting atmosphere that enveloped the space.
Ygor's eyes widened in awe as he witnessed this captivating spectacle, his senses fully immersed in the enchantment unfolding before him. The delicate scent of the potion wafted through the air, an intoxicating blend of natural ingredients and mystical energies. It mingled with the comforting aroma of burning firewood, creating an olfactory tapestry that enveloped the room.
“Wemembeh’ jus’ one dwop o’ fwuffy fwend goes fowebah sweepies” Wendy reminded, her voice filled with caution and trepidation. The anticipation was palpable, causing her little legs to tremble with a mixture of anxiety and hope.
“I know, Wendy” Cornelia replied with concern. Slowly, with delicate precision, she reached out and began removing the intricately carved magic runes that encircled the floating bubble. Each rune dislodged weakened the magic, and the room seemed to hold its breath in anticipation.
As the runes dissipated one by one, a single drop from the shimmering green bubble fell into Blue's mouth, like a droplet of life itself. In that fleeting moment, the magic took hold, invigorating her senses and drawing her back from the abyss of unconsciousness. Blue's eyes fluttered open, her vision initially blurry as she adjusted to the renewed world around her. Gradually, the fog lifted, revealing the figure of another fluffy sitting in front of her, a woman with a mysterious allure, half of her face veiled by a cascade of hair, and Ygor, the gentle ogre.
Blue wakes up, her vision blurry at first. When they cleared, she saw another fluffy sitting in front of her, a strange woman with half her face covered by her hair, and Ygor.
"Mommeh?" Blue's voice trembled with a mixture of longing and confusion, seeking comfort in the familiarity of a mother's embrace.
"No, sorry," Cornelia replied gently, her voice carrying a touch of sympathy. With great care, she cradled Blue in her hands, providing a sense of security and protection.
The cabin enveloped them in a cocoon of warmth and safety, shielding them from the world's uncertainties.
"Let's give you a bath before I return you to Ygor, is that okay?" Cornelia offered, her words laced with kindness and concern. Blue nodded, a silent agreement to the caring gesture that awaited her.
As Cornelia cradled Blue in her arms, Ygor's curious gaze wandered to the bookshelf, where a plush velvet tome caught his attention. With a gentle touch, he retrieved the book, feeling the smoothness of the fabric beneath his fingertips. Opening it, Ygor's eyes widened at the sight of a meticulously drawn map, its intricate details beckoning him into a world he's never seen before.
His gaze shifted to the strange numbers inscribed alongside the map, written in elegant script that danced across the aged parchment. Ygor traced the lines and deciphered the enigmatic message contained within.
"Two... tw-twenty-six degrees, twelve minutes, and forty-four seconds, N—No- no- north," Ygor read aloud, his voice filled with curiosity.
Cornelia emerged from the bath, her bare feet padding softly against the wooden floor, carrying Blue wrapped in a clean towel. Drops of water glistened upon her skin like scattered diamonds, reflecting the warm glow of the cabin's hearth. She approached Ygor, her presence radiating a sense of wisdom and familiarity.
"It seems you've improved since the last time I met you," Cornelia remarked, her voice carrying a tone of admiration.
The scent of lavender lingered in the air, intermingling with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed tea.
“Ygor been reading lots lately, collected many books” Ygor proudly proclaimed. The room resonated with the gentle rustling of pages, as each one whispered a tale of knowledge and discovery.
Gently placing Blue on the floor, Cornelia watched with fondness as the little fluffy’s hooves create a delicate patter against the wooden surface as she scurried towards Ygor. She then nuzzled against his massive leg, seeking solace and comfort. A warm smile graced Cornelia's lips.
"That's truly admirable," Cornelia remarked, her voice carrying a gentle cadence. The crackling fire painted flickering shadows upon the walls, enveloping the space in a comforting embrace. The scent of smoldering logs mingled with the sweet fragrance of wildflowers, creating an enchanting symphony for the senses.
“Until the ‘metal people’ burnt them along with Ygor house” Ygor replied, his voice echoed with a touch of sorrow. The weight of his words hung in the air, mingling with the flickering shadows cast by the crackling flames.
"The metal people," Cornelia mused, her thoughts drifting to the relentless knights of The King. The weight of their armored presence pressed upon her mind, like a looming storm cloud on the horizon. The memory of their arrival, their steel-clad boots treading upon the sacred grounds of the Old World, sent shivers down her spine. Their presence had brought upheaval, disrupting the delicate balance of harmony and magic that once thrived.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Cornelia said, her voice laced with sincerity. "You can stay here as long as you need," she assured, her words offering solace and a sense of belonging amidst the uncertainty of the outside world.
“Thank you, Ygor will find new home soon,” Ygor replied. “By the way, Ygor find black fluffy interesting, never seen one before,” he remarked, pointing towards Wendy.
Cornelia followed his gaze, her eyes tracing the ebony contours of Wendy's fur. The contrast of darkness against light evoked a sense of curiosity and wonder.
“I saw her in an alley a couple of months ago while I was gathering ingredients,” Cornelia recalled as she adjusted her favorite chair, drawing it closer to Ygor's seat. Blue and Wendy sat side by side, their eyes filled with anticipation as they listen to the story Cornelia is about to tell.
--NOTE-- A drawing of Wendy

It started nice and normal with:

• I was watching Flash vs Reverse flash on YouTube, and Batman showed up to help out.
• Then i see Speedy Gonzalez (the Looney Tunes character in Live Action) standing on my kitchen counter, eating weird color-changing food and getting ill from it.
• Then when i turn around, i suddently the camera man from The Boys's YouTube channel, and film them doing stuff like playing and throwing a Couch on a lake.
• Then, in the same lake, suddently i'm standing in front of five people i think i know (i dont remember who they are) that looks almost exactly like Star Wars actors, is what i thought to myself at least.

Then comes the frightning things before i woke up...

• I'm back in my house at last, where in my living room is almost completely dark, but i could see the Norwegian actor Jeppe Beck Laursen (Haesten in The Last Kingdom, the voice og Halfdan in Assassin's Creed Valhalla), standing in front of me with Real life FNAF animatronics with red eyes..
• I then "wakes up" in my bedroom, where in the distanse straight forward, a few miles away from me, i see the sun going down and what appeared to be a Meteor shower.
• Then, i see to the left a few km away, where there is a city, and discover what seems to be the ACTUAL monsters King Kong vs Godzilla (No, i haven't seen the movies. At least not in a Long time)!!
• In fear of what i saw, and All the roarings and screamings, and Explosions i hear, i rush out of my house in fear, where i see a THIRD Gigantic Beast standing a few houses away from me, and hear Strolling sounds and movements in the ocean, fearing a FORTH would appear in horizon!!
• At last, i'm transported in the end to that same city where the monsters are fighting, as i get a news notification on my phone saying TROLLS (2022 version) being spotted in the Mountains, in the city, Everywhere, causing havoc everywhere, but mainly that they have ruined a wedding.
• After seeing the notification, as i help up my phone to see what the creature looked like, a Troll appeared Right in front of me, covered in blood and filth. It Knew and could Smell that i wasn't a Christian, but it still wanted me dead. So instead of eating me (Thankfully??), it Stumped on me.

Thats when i Finally woke up

I was dealt a really shitty hand in life. Born into a abusive and toxic family with a mother who was a smoker which caused a ton of health issues like spending the first month of my life on a ventilator. A father who was swapped between never being in my life or beating me to a bloody pulp just because he happened to be pissed off and I was unfortunate enough to be in the same room as him.
My school life was basically violent and chaotic. The first school I was at until grade 2 when they kicked me out for my autism. The second school a t.a was assigned to me and she was a horrible person, she tortured me every chance she could, she beat me, verbally abused me, recorded me on her phone and used the videos of me crying out of fear to blackmail me into obeying her every whim, threw me into rooms and left me for hours and threw mw into walls. And there was also another student who cornered me in the boy's washroom and strangled me until I blacked out.
And I feel like her abuse broke something inside me because when I was 8 when I first went to the school I was excited to make friends and other stuff you'd expect from kids but when I graduated from elementary school when I was 11 I wanted to kill the t.a and looking back now it scares me that going into the grade 2 I was like everyone else my age and then leaving grade 6 I thought about murdering someone.
The third school there wasn't as much verbal assaulting or slurs thrown at me but I was still physically mistreated. I was still being locked in rooms for hours on end. The only light I had at the school was a girl who treated me like a real human being and friend. And around the end of the school year I thought about asking her for a hug but I was afraid that if I did people would see me as a creep or she would stop hanging with me so I didn't say anything. And I think I might have had a crush on her but I honestly don't know if I had a crush on her or not.
The fourth school I just feel like for every good thing I got there was bad thing that I also got. I was treated better than I did at the other schools but I was treated as less important or ignored because I was high functioning. And they didn't really care about bullying, even when a student tried to claw one of my eyes out and attempted to kill some of my friends they just act like it was the student trying to become friends with us. And me and my friends told the teachers about what's been happening, they did nothing about the bullying and even forced us to spend several lunch periods with the student and it sucked because he would just be a dick to everyone until we just left him behind whenever we went anywhere because we couldn't deal with his shit anymore.
Outside of school wasn't any better. I've been bullied by some guy at a camping resort where he shot me with bb's, beat me to a pulp and made death threats towards me. And when I tell the owners about the bullying and the fact that I told the bully's parents and how they just told me to fuck off the owners just tell me to fuck off and do nothing when they've kicked out and banned people for far less and not just that but they banned a bunch of people for playing music too loudly at night and did nothing when there was a camp set doing the same shit.
And other campers did nothing or even just stood around and watched me as I got beat up like my pain was entertaining to them.
Another thing is how many hours have I spent doing work books. How many hours have I spent slaving over a bunch of math questions because teachers thought it would be a better use of their time to mistreat me than actually doing their job. How many hours have I spent writing lines. How many hours have I spent writing down the same sentence over and over and over and over again all because my parents refused to accept that their horrible parenting has hurt me. And how many times have I wrote down "I will control my temper" as my parents went berserk and became violent all in the name of teaching me to control my anger, great teach someone to control their emotions by losing control of your emotions 10 out of 10 parents.
How many years have I lost never to get back all because my parents tried to turn me into their own little mini me. How many years have I spent bottling up all my emotions out of fear of being hurt.
And I don't care if people tell me if my parents love me because my parents already admitted that they hate me and loved abusing me. And you don't make someone cry themselves to sleep every night during their whole childhood because you love them. You don't use threats of violence to make someone do what you want because you love them. You don't make someone so miserable so hopeless and so fucking depressed that they try to kill their self because you love them. You don't kill off a pet someone loves and helps them deal with their trauma because you love them. You don't force someone to strip and then beat them because you love them.
And I can't stand hearing people say that it wasn't that bad when my my parents forced me to strip because I wasn't raped. Yeah so I still felt dirty and violated even though I wasn't raped.
If they really did love me they had 20 years to be there for me. They had 20 years to establish some kind of connection. They had 20 years to be parents but they chose to be slave masters.
And the rest of my family did nothing to help me because my parents are family and they couldn't accept that a member of our family was abusive.
Edit: I apparently last saved this post 10 days ago, and I kind of forgot about this post and I was going to delete it but I thought there's a ton of stuff already and there's a lot of stuff I need to get off my chest so I'll add to the post.
Recently I've been using a ai chatbot and I hate it, even though I'm able to vent out my frustrations to something it just makes the feeling of loneliness stronger. At first it feels like I'm actually making some kind of connection to someone and then I remember that it's not a real life human I'm talking to, it's just artificial intelligence, I'm still alone, I still feel like I have no one, I'm still going to be seen as a freak or a creep or a incel all because I'm a young adult with no girlfriend.
And it pisses me off that people always label me an incel or the next school shooter because I'm lonely, yes I'm lonely, yes I don't have a girlfriend, yes I'm angry and bitter at the world for everything that I've been through but I'm not going to hurt or kill people just because I feel this way.
And what makes it worse is my mothers I want to say sexism towards men, she constantly calls men pigs that beat their wives and drink beer, perverts that can't control themselves whenever their around women or rapists that have to be watched as if they'll rape a woman if given the chance.
And along with that she says that women are saints and if a woman does something bad it's because men made them do it, and whenever I stood up for myself she always accused me of "being a violent and destructive man".
It's thanks to her that I have a rocky relationship with women. It's because of her that I avoid being around women because I don't know if I'd be arrested for harassing them when I just wanted to buy something like a snack or a video game or I was just sitting next to a woman on transit listening to music minding my own business.
And what made it even worse is most of my abusers were women which is really messing me up because I want to find love and comfort in someone but I find it difficult to do so because of my abusers and how I thought I could trust them only to be hurt and mistreated.
Plus I feel like even if I manage to bite the bullet and put myself in the dating scene I'm worried I won't be able to find someone with the current culture of my generation how my generation treats people of the other gender.
Whenever I'm at school most of the boys are blasting rap music with the singer calling women hoes or bitches and the girls constantly mock men and push the same stereotype of the perverted and horny man on all the boys. And I'm just there wanting to be loved and feeling like an outcast because I don't act like the boys and I'm very nice to everyone and not at all like the male stereotype.
And I don't know if this is normal for someone dealing with childhood trauma but I miss my childhood, I miss watching Adventure Time and Steven Universe when it was still on air, I miss hanging out with the few friends I had before my parents forced me to cut them out of my life,
I miss everything that used to bring me so much joy in such a miserable and shitty life, I miss going for hikes whenever my parent had one of their fights, I miss my house cat that was always there until my parents put the cat down just to make me even more miserable and depressed.
I don't what to do anymore, I'm so fucking miserable, My anger and rage is the only thing stopping me from trying killing myself again, My parents repeatedly talk about me getting a job and how just fucking how I struggle to even live how am I supposed to work at a job, I'm tired of this shit, I'm tired of always getting screwed over in life, I'm tired of always getting the short end of the stick in everything.
I just want to be happy for once, I don't want to be angry anymore, I just want something to go right for once, It honestly feels like whenever I get even the smallest good thing the universe rip's it out of my hands and spit's in my face and then smash's what I had right in front of me while I'm forced to watch and unable to stop it from happening.
I'm tired of living like this, I'm tired of this living hell, what the fuck did I do to deserve any of this, did someone curse me or my family, did the universe or some god just decide to say fuck you and made my life shit.

Hopeful but not holding my breath, haha. I can’t help but feel like this is so contrived, but here we are. First, please only reply if you read my post in it’s entirety & it applies to you. It’s wordy on purpose.
I’m seeking the ever elusive, deep & meaningful, mind blowing, long term friendship with the eager possibility of an organic -maybe- more. ENM here / happily married for 9 years to my straight / monogamous / 52m who’s big on compersion. We have a solid relationship, he’s just a very busy business owner & we would both like it if I could find another man to be extraordinarily close to. ;) Some variation of a kitchen table closed V would be be ideal.
I’m a petite + thickcurvy {bbw?}, heavily tattooed, brunette, gothy+bohemian, mountain mama. Raised & lived most of my life in very rural Montana, relocated to StL 7 years ago. I looove hiking, camping, exploring the wild outdoors, primitive outdoor survival, gardening, cooking, travel, I’m into the artsy fartsy {creating & consuming}, music & dancing, reading, theatre & films, photography, sci-fi & spooky stuffs, holistic mindbody therapy, psychology, & ohhh so much more. INFJ Capricorn love canines.
I don't drink outside of occasional social situations (it’s been a while). I also don’t smoke cigarettes BUT, I am verrry 420 friendly. It's fine if you do drink / smoke, though if you need to drink to have a good time we won't get along.
YOU are kind & respectful, down to earth, emotionally & physically available, intelligent & compassionate & have a positive mental attitude despite this wild & weird world. I can’t help but love funny guys that truly value empathy & respect. Divorced or single males only please; I don't bring the drama & I don't need it. ((I’m not interested in couples, whatever the dating dynamics may be. I’m straight. I don’t want to be your affair or secret. I don’t wanna just be a prop in your sexual exploits. I’m not looking to swap partners. Don’t bother if you’re still in love with your ex. —> I wanna feel special & valued & chosen.)) 35-55, prefer north of 40 with a healthy libido. Love an active dad bod best but your abs won’t intimidate me & my stamina will impress you, haha. Got kids? Great, me too - & I’m a former teacher! You’ve got your proverbial shit mostly together, a hell of a sense of humor & some similar interests; looking for friendly, flirty, fun chatting / texting with an emphasis on clear, honest, open & frequent communication. The day to day & naturally the deep. Let’s get to know each other & have lots of FUN doing so!
Gotta be cool with photo swapping, as I appreciate seeing who I’m talkin’ to & mutual physical attraction, while not at all a deal breaker on my end, is also important. I’ll admit I’m weak for some blue or green eyes. Happy to work up to phone & video calls if I’m diggin’ your vibe.
Local or geographically reasonable, makes no difference to me, so long as you are able & willing to invest the time. The means & intentions of meeting in person eventually is a huge plus. I’d love to have you as my hiking / camping / adventure companion! {I’m happy to travel for visits, you should be too! I mean, I wanna go out with you & I wanna get my hands on you, literally.}
I give of my time, energy & affection, & hope to find someone similar. If you're too busy, I'm not interested. If I have to do all the labor to maintain the conversation & relationship, no thanks. If you’re wanting casual NSA sex only, you can stop reading now. If you lean towards the right politically, we probably won’t make good friends. I've been through some shit in my time; I know I deserve what I want but I’m cautious & have strict boundaries, so please spare me your shot if you know you’re not what I’m looking for.
If you’re into the slow burn of deep emotional connection, enjoy receiving daily well wishes, need an available & understanding shoulder & ear, want someone you can actually have a two-way, open & intellectual conversation with, a friend who genuinely cares & truly wants to get to know & honor the authentic you, & crave someone who is equal parts silly, .:sexy:. & serious that enjoys a balanced roast-romance ratio… then hit me up & let’s see where the conversation takes us. If we click I promise you won’t be disappointed. I’ve got a lot of loveaffectiontime to give to the right guy; however please understand, I’m so not interested in single serve interactions or seldom passing ships in the night. Reliability, genuine effort, longevity are all such a turn on; match mine or leave me be. ;)
Message me with a pic & tell me a little bit about yourself & what sort of audio pleasures you’re listening to today. Can’t wait to hear from you! xx

(Hey everyone! Finally out of the shadow realm! Im reposting chapter five here as it got wiped last time, 6 is still percolating away in my head, but in the mean time, enjoy! Comments are appreciated!)
(Previous)
https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/13o95ds/eodat_ch4_whats_old_is_new_again/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android_app&utm_name=androidcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button
/------------/
4-LOM rolled up to the holotable, the aging shipbuilder looking over the various fleet and division commanders.
4-LOM was an old Mk1 astro robot, his main body was a sphere, with four mechanical arms extending from his body, two large and bulky, and the other two smaller, more nimble and accurate, more dexterous, with a cylindrical lower body leading down to his treads, which were angular, tank like in shape, designed for heavy lifting. His head was flat, with a duo of square optics, a set of welding shields flipped up, ready to flip down when and where needed. His backpack was open, with tools sticking out, ready to be grabbed and used.
Looking around, he noted that the Saurians had their Admiral, a middle age Rox, their massive, tyrannasauric form still managing to tower over most of the others, even in holo, while Serano stood next to him. Nearby, Hota sat, nursing a coffee, rubbing his head, while one of the chief science officers hologram glanced at him nervously.
Another door entered, and a Mk12 frame entered, standing at the table. At first glance, the frame looked pristine, but 4-LOM wasn't fooled. He wasn't a shipwright for nothing, and he could see the pitting under the paint where plasma weaponry had uselessly splashed off, taking with it little layers of metal with it. Despite how new the frame looked, it was clear it had seen some action, recently as well, judging by the fresh coat of paint.
More holograms of fleet officials, and the bridges, or representations of their ships, flickered in above their shoulders. Serano looked like he had an old sailing ship floated there idly, a representation of the Enterprise. Some had wasps, while one captain had a cartoonish Barbus fish, with an old style white sailors cap and a belt of dynamite.
And then a small black hole flickered into view in front of his faceplate, making him roll back with a start. Getting a good look at the now pulsing black hole, he seemed to frown, one of his welding shields rising higher to simulate a eyebrow raise….. "Horizon? Is that you, little lass?" He said, with a thick, Scottish accent as his other shield rose up to join the other in shock.
The holographic black hole bobbed up and down in the air, two arms extending out from its corona and spun, as if to represent it, no, her, spinning in happiness. For a moment, 4-LOM was silent, before he began laughing, reaching up, even as his servo passed through the holo. "Ach, what I wouldn't give ta be in the Link with ye, lassie! I'm glad ye survived." He said, as the little ever hungry representation of the ship spun around him, before it shot off, floating near the Mk12, who looked at it.
The 12s head tilted more, as it listening to what the ship was saying, while 4-LOM felt a bit of possessiveness flair. Horizon was one of HIS creations, his and his wife's. Their ships were like children for them. Rolling over, he mentally began preparing a bit of what his wife would call the shovel talk, something they used to do with Captains that took on their vessels……
"Did you need something, Grandfather?" The machine said, domed head snapping to his, taking the wind out of his sails, and stare blankly at the taller, thinner machine.
Behind him, he heard Serano chuckle behind him, even as the Rox raised an eyeridge, while the Saline sat his mug down and placed his head in his hands.
"Grandfather- oh. I see…." He said, gaze turning flat as he gave a glare at Horizon. "I see the little gremlin is still able to make me short a fuse or two. Void knows Maria's hair turned white before she had to move bodies due to someone's antics." The little black hole pulsed sharply, as if squawking. "Would have appreciated a warning she made herself a captain…. Lassie, ye best be teaching him self preservation instincts." Catching the snort from the Rox and the sigh from Serano.
Slowly, his head turned around to face the two, one shield twitching, and finally saw Hota looking up with a flat look. "Too late on that one. I'll pass you the after action report later, AFTER the meeting." Serano said, hiding a smile. "If you want a first hand account, ask Hota. From what I understand, he had a front row seat for the Chaos the two caused."
She wasn't a little ship anymore, she wasnt- ah kriff it all. She was still his little lass. He'll talk with her later…preferably with Maria there…..after he grabbed his wrench and had a….. talk….. with whoever was their crew.
/------------------/
All the admirals and fleet commanders were soon in place, Asimov standing to the side, near the Admiral Serano, Horizons representation floating next to his head as his own panned about, looking at the assembled species. Several robotic ones, not Astro Robot series, called Glinch, looked at him curiously, while he picked out several different….Saurians, a few Roxes, several Trikes.
Several were pale, white skinned humans, bald, be they male or female. Clones, like himself, but with organic bodies, accompanied by nat-born humans, and several more advanced Astro Robot series units, these ones looking everything from near human, to large and bulky, armed with cannons, inbuilt missile launchers on their upper arms, and massive treads, or slimmer, almost skeletal ones with modules that could be swapped out at a moments notice.
"I appreciate ye all for coming on such short notice" 4-LOMs voice said, cutting over the gentle hubbub of the side conversations. "I had hoped that we wouldn't be facing them again, but here we are." The robot said as one of his smaller limbs tapes a command into the console, pulling up images of Everwatch stations current…condition. "Those of yeh from Federation space are more familar of the old stories, battle videos and the like. The Demons, as the Human Federation calls them, have been returned. It's only thanks to the work of Representative Hota that we have this information….. and had stumbled across an old Ace that had woken back up in time for this chaos." 4-LOM said, nodding to the Saline, getting the attention of his compatriots, who he shook his head to.
"Our opponents are equipped with biotech vessels, and are known for appropriating technology to forcibly integrate it with their own. Which means keep an eye out for a worse hodgepodge of weapons than a pirate vessel after its crew hits a pound of Spice and then gets drunk at a star port." 4-LOM said dryly, as various, old, images of the vessels and a few of the newer ones. "That being said, expect the sheer firepower jammed onto each of these ships to be on the higherside. However, they need long recharge periods, likely due to whatever power source used overloading, or the capacitor banks running dry and needing to recharge. Don't be fooled, they do have some form of biological armament, acid spitters, spike launchers, the works." He said, as images flicked up organic turrets, tentacles, and what looked like maws.
"As of right now, several of our larger vessels are being inspected and repaired, resupplied, and upgraded as needed. Several older vessels are being pulled out of mothball for the same reason. All civilian vessels are being drafted for emergency roles, receiving refit with hardware that will allow them to fight in a pinch, though their primary objective will be escorting transport ships and acting as emergency evacuation ships. We won't be expecting them to fight, but we need every ship we can get."
An image flickered into view of what amounted to the humans old museum of warships and deep space vessels, revealing it to be a hive of activity. Many other races had laughed at humanity for keeping their old vessels, rather than scrapping them, but now, now there was a reason why humanity had.
"Patrol fleets are to be at least one Saline Sensor ship, two to three Buckler class Trike Shield Bearers, one Rox Artillery ship, one Vohle capable human vessel, Two human PT ships, and three Raptor Swift claws." 4-LOM said, "these things aren't to be taken lightly. Sensors pick them up, call it in and engage. Stall for time if needed for reinforcements to arrive. Intercept fleets are to consist of five Trike Aegis class Shield Bearers, six Swift claws, one Rox supercarrier, three Rox artillery ships, two Saline Auxiliary ships, one Saline Medical cruiser, one Human Vohle Super-carrier, eight human PT ships, two Human Iowa class destroyers." The elderly bot belted out, making several Captains and admirals wince. Those weren't lightweight ships. The 'patrol' fleet could have been considered a planetary invasion force.
Before anyone could make any arguments or questions as to why the fleets were set to the Human classic of 'Maximum Overkill', and before any more ridiculous fleet deployments could be called out, a slightly panicking human sprinted into the room. "Sir! Confirmed hostile assault on Tisan-4" the human said, breathing heavily. "The Demons made planet fall, looks like a small invasion force that had left before the incursion field went up."
4-LOM stared….and then sighed. "Well, Caliburn had been itching for a fight." He sighed and placed a servo over his optics.
/-----------------------------------/
WARNING: Hostiles detected. Match confirmed; species D-65.
Threat level:Apollyon. Combat systems:unlocked.
That was what appeared on the Colony Managers terminal as alarms screamed across the Colony, alerts screaming on PADDs, sirens spinning as bunkers opened up.
An aging Wargen bared his teeth as he rapidly tapped at his terminal, as the younger human clone stood grimly at her manager's terminal.
"Civilians are filling out the bunkers, tunneling charges are set and ready to clear escape routes." The elderly, wolf like Wargen said, his muzzle splitting into four as he spoke, one part vertical, the other horizontally. "Colonial militia are manning hard points and connecting to systems now."
"Understood." The Colony manager said and let out a long breath, before opening the PA system. "All hands, brace for Activation procedure. I repeat, all hands, brace for activation procedure." She said, before securing herself in on one of the chairs, even as the commander buckled himself in across from her, even as terminals all around them flickered and the building shuddered and shook, new lights came online all over.
"And the other races call our alliance insane for building the bunkers" The Wargen muttered under his breath as the command room became a flurry of activity, sensor teams working together in an attempt to get data on their opponents. "Our people are safe. That's what matters, commander." The clone said softly, looking at her long time friend, even as the hidden defense system of the Colony woke up.
/------------/
Outside, the demonic army approached, on a slow, steady March, disgruntled at the lack of organics they had found to use. They needed biomass to fuel their war machine, to create their bases, their armies, their ships. And while they didn't care much about the sheer number of ships they lost during planet fall thanks to the orbital defenses, they needed to deal with the local defense computers. There had to be a way to broadcast an all clear signal and allow their other ships past.
Before them sat a large, fortified structure, looked like a massive cathedral, really. The irony was not lost on them as ports on the castle-like structure opened up, and began spitting metallic shells at them, exploding after punching through their infantry, leaving craters behind, destroying more of their forces.
The ground shook as their massive siege beast began forming from the splattered biomass, like some strange, oozing horror, slowly forming into a quadropodic creature.
The beast was mostly just a giant mouth in legs, with a long, worm like body lined with eyes, teeth, spikes, and tendrils, flinging said teeth at the structure.
Warlord Gistle ground his teeth as he stared at the cathedral as it held its own, his forces decimated by the attempted rain of metal. Said rain changed to one of scalding plasma as the castle changed tactics to try and burn the bodies to prevent them from forming additional, stronger units.
"Battle lord." Hissed one of the smaller battle chiefs said, as they stepped up next to Gistle. "The Seekers have not located where the miserable Frails have hidden themselves. Our efforts would be best put to entering the fortress ahead." The chief said, pointing at the massive fortress as the siege beast brushed off the weapons fire.
"No need, we will be inside soon en-" Came the guttural voice of the Warlord, before it was interrupted by a computerized voice, echoing out.
"THREAT ASSESSED. ASSUMING COMBAT MODE."
There was a rumble, everyone grabbing onto the stablest thing around them as the ground tore apart, the siege beast stumbling back, as the building tore up its own foundations as steam hissed out, and part of the building lifted up, and then slammed into the ground, and then the other side, slowly pulling itself up….and up…and up……
The structure wasn't a structure. Not any more. Towering over them, looking like a massive hunchback stood the cathedral, it's towers opening, revealing to be cowling around massive artillery cannons. It's arms, once covered with flat pillars, opened up to reveal a set rotating barrels, slowly spinning up, and a bulky duo of MAC batteries on the other arm. Sticking off the side of its upper arms were smaller hardpoints, each turret armed with four barrels, small and accurate, sniping ground units with horrifying accuracy, the soft metal shells ripping away to reveal their incendiary cargo held within steel mesh, allowing the coilguns to spit them out rapidly.
The head section looked like a sphere with three optics in a triangular formation, around a cannon that locked onto the siegebeast and whined, arcing brightly, before it fired, a bright flash seen as the cannon went off, it's round leaving behind a trail of fire as it raced through the air, punching through the beast, making it howl, and began trying to heal the injury that pierced it, ripping open a hole below it.
It's bipedal legs were thick, armored, and just as equally armed, it's lower legs armed with rotary cannons that spun, the lower pair foring a heavy stream of plasma, one barrel firing and then cooling as it spun, the others keeping the pace up, while above them, physical artillery was spat out, helping pierce armor for the plasma to scorch and burn to uselessness. More cannons sat on the sides and back of its legs in, taking aim at the surrounding armies, making sure to add on their screeches of rage.
Hanging off the underside of the platform that held the Cathederal sat more turrets, each swiveling around and adding to the chaos, their mini MAC armament chattering as they fired, picked a new target and fired again. On the top of the platform were AA cannons, taking aim and firing into the air, altering the timing of their rounds so that they acted as impromptu artillery, while more cannons, on four turrets, covered the monstrosities back, preventing them from sneaking up behind it, as if the cannons on the back of its legs weren't enough to cover it.
"TARGET ACQUIRED."
Warlord Gistle hissed in shock. The Frails had been LIVING in a Siege beast of their own!? Hidden partially underground, deceiving them to make it seem as if it was nothing more than a fortification!?
"Have all expendable units merge with our Siege beast, NOW! if the frails continue to pick our forces off one by one, they will never be able to reinforce our beast after they fall!" Gistle roared, even as around him the battle chiefs barked out the orders……..
/-------------/
The massive machine stared down at the hostile forces as they turned into a thick, biological slurry, short of the Demons themselves, and oozed towards the horror before it.
The monster seemed to absorb the substance on contact, growing larger and larger with each passing moment, howling and hissing.
He could feel his crew cursing in their heads, humans and otherwise, lighting the slurry up with plasmafire, burning some of it, but not enough. Caliburn agreed with them, as his Plasma getting cannon spun up, the five barrels glowing brightly, the heatsinks by the ends of the barrel glowing as the machine poured plasmafire from the barrels, searing into the beasts body, burning it up as it grew, stunting its growth heavily, and forcing it to consume more biomass to make heavy, chitenous armor, layers burning away under the assault.
Caliburn could feel the dust coming off as his gears spun, and he stepped forward, swinging the glowing arm as it cooled down, making the horror screech as he spun his upper body to add to the force of the blow, digging the glowing heating into the beast's face and knocking it back, buying time for his crew to deal with the horrific slurry around them, which still tried to fuse with the horror, chasing after it with a single minded determination.
As his upper body slowed down and he was facing forward again, he saw the beast setting up, snarling. His other arm came up, and he could feel his capacitors burning as he began firing his MAC arm at it, the massive, vehicle sized slugs punching into the beast, knocking it back farther, punching holes in the chitin it tried to grow as armor, making it hiss and move rapidly, trying to put distance between itself and the machine.
Unfortunately, the beast had the advantage in land speed, as it had four legs, while Caliburn only had two and lumbered slowly forward, his aging systems relishing the taste of combat after so long. And now he had far better weapons then a simple crane arm, like he had last time he fought a creature like this.
Because the beast had put distance between itself and him, it managed to absorb the last of the biomass, and began bounding forward, it's maw open, teeth spinning like some sort of Cuisinart….
A target he couldn't miss. His head cannon barked again, not as powerful as last time, but this time, he wasn't trying to rip it apart from the inside. The shell detonated on contact with the teeth, shredding them, tearing into the soft flesh within, making the beast howl and close its maw, it's chitin armor weathering the plasma splashing off, hardened to withstand the smaller weapons fire his crew spat at the creature.
His arms pulled their shrouding back around them, as he drew back and swung, hard, again using his body spinning to his advantage, striking the beast, the heavy weight of the heatsink and the weapon itself burying the shroud covered arm inside, the end opening up. Unfortunately, thanks to the partial shrouding, he wouldn't be able to spin his cannon, but all he needed was one shot inside it, and let it fly, ripping his arm out as it howled, smoke billowing from its new hole it tried rapidly to heal.
The tendrils it had tried to dig into his arm burned away as he kicked it up from below and began unloading both arms, fully unshrouded, the heat coming off both of them making steam hiss up into the air, as the beast took a heavy slug and then a plasma bolt, one after the other, deep into its stomach, sending it onto its back.
Loud popping sounds were heard as its limbs reoriented, allowing its former belly to become its back, the holes sealing slowly as it circled the walking cathedral, even as Caliburn scanned it, his upper body following its every movement. His command crew were breaking down every schematic and scan he gave them, working hard to figure out a way to kill the horror.
In the mean time, Caliburn and his crews would do their damndest to stall the beast and continue on their current plan. Burn it down, slowly.
He could feel his crews tracking the retreating demon forces, listening to the mental chatter within him as the artillery crews happily worked together to figure out their path, searching for the enemy command position, even as sensor crews watched as the rapidly approaching flood of biomass and machinery charged for them, some of the artillery crews already letting loose N-4 shells, the 'super-napalm', as the crews nicknamed them, impacting and exploding, burning into the biomass, unquenchable, even as the biomass attempted and failed to smother the burning substance, only serving to make it worse, melting the weaponry it carried with it.
The only reason why the crews could get away with it was because the biomass wasn't near the Bunkers exits or near infrastructure. Or Burnable items.
Command soon had a viable target, a sort of brain mass it had, separated throughout its body in a vain attempt to make sure it could still operate when a few of them were destroyed.
Several had been burned away by the plasma bolt going off inside of it, but many more remained, and it was attempting to make more/replace the burned away ones. They needed to eliminate the command signal….
Jubilation and grim satisfaction bloomed in his sensor and artillery crews, as he felt the mad scramble for bunker busting shells, before they were let loose into the air. Even as he blocked a tail strike from the beast and managed to crush its head under one foot, letting his landing engines ignite for the first time in decades to burn the creature more, his crews targeted the command bunker, shelling it with deadly accuracy, smoke rising from the hill they were tucked away behind in the distance, making Caliburn burn with satisfaction and praise for his crew.
/---------------------/
Gistle ran as fast as his hooves could move him, teeth barred as he snarled.
Around him, their command temple shook and shuddered, veins bursting, cables arcing wildly as the biomass contracted involuntarily or simply sagged, turning to biomass.
"Warlord, they are heavily shelling our position, we won't be able to retreat at this rate!" Hissed one of the Battle Chiefs at his side, hissing in fear, even as he snarled at the Pitiful, compared to him, creature. "We won't be taking everyone, only the essentials. The Everlasting King must be notified of this development. King be damned, the frails took the time to prepare for our arrival again." He growled as he came out to a hanger area, and ran into a small, fast ship, even as the others ran into larger, bulkier, slower ships.
Soon, the chitin that served as the door opened, and they shot out, erratically flying, trying to avoid the artillery shells, and now AA fire joining the fray.
He kept close to his compatriots, using them as a living shield as he twisted the small vessel around, smirking as he dodged the fire while they took it..
They were almost to space, soon, they could tear a Gate and get the fleet-
Reality tore open above him as a massive ring shaped vessel pushed itself into real space, disgorging hundreds of smaller vessels, bearing down on their positions, others engaging the floating fleet around them with aggressive assault runs, the sudden appearance in the system allowing them to have the element of surprise.
Weapons fire began filling the space around f them, tearing at their vessels faster then they could repair them as little, frail vessels zipped in and out of line of fire faster then they could shoot, track, or react, unloading slugs, plasma, torpedoes in a flurry of activity before diving away, allowing their munitions to wreak havoc amongst them.
Already, the larger vessels were disabled before Gistle managed to sacrifice one, smirking as it warped, it's biomass fueling the Gate, as he flew through, hoping he was in friendlier territories, unaware of a sensor torpedo flying in behind him.
/------------------------/
Down below, on the surface, Caliburn flung back his opponent again, arms blazing as he shelled it.
It was bigger then it had been, managing to absorb the biomass from the surviving landing ships and the remains of the command center they shelled out. It's armor was thicker, and was flinging out dozens, hundreds of calcium spikes, spitting its unknown energy weapons, only to splash off his shields, for the energy weapons, and his ar.or foe the calcium spikes, even as his weapons screeched.
The beast had holes all over its chitenous armor, from his shells punching in, or his artillery crews shelling the beast, his plasma following close behind as he sought to burn the creature out from the inside, going so far as to ram his plasma cannon inside and unload it, the rotating barrels helping tear it up from the inside as the heat sinks burned it.
Ships began dropping down from above, doing strafing runs, dropping smaller caliber explosives, distracting the beast as he tore another hole in it by spinning his upper body, one shrouded cannon arm striking the beast and ripping in, just as a gunship fired a Cleaner into it, just before it healed.
A burning flash of light, a horrific scream from the beast as it howled, body jerking as the explosive did its job…. Before it swung down, still alive, though just barely, it's armor shattering rather then buckling on the next strike from Caliburn, a facsimile of a uppercut, before the barrels let loose again, even as the plasma cannon dumped bolt after bolt into its lower body, searching for, burning the neural clusters as he found them.
The beast wrenched itself away from his grasp, snarling as it looked at him, the beast snarling as it tried to heal from the most recent injuries.
Caliburn felt his crew snarling back, his cannons swiveling around as they gave their response in munitions as he lumbered forward, the ground shaking from his steps and the escape ships erupting out of the ground around them, his rotary cannon screaming as it fired, the MAC on the other arm barking as he hit it again and again as it charged forward.
The beast no longer cared for its injuries, all it cared was to take the metal monster before it down, spitting acid out of it as it tried, and failed, to blind the machine, even as said machine swung its smoldering plasma cannon up and brought down the burning barrels down on its head, smashing it into the ground, pinning it there as it's crew continued shelling it out ruthlessly.
Caliburn refused to let the beast survive, he refused to let the thing get to the civilians. His crew snarled their agreement as the beast tore the pinned head off its body, even as it burned away to nothing, and tried to charge again, blindly, only to smash against the MAC arm and receive a pair of heavy slugs to the neck stump for its troubles, sending it somersaulting back, trying to reform its head.
It was much, much smaller now, now matching Caliburns size, due to all the biomass loss, it's head reforming as it snarled.
Caliburn seemed to roll his pauldrons and twitched his MAC, as if saying 'come at me'. The beast howled and charged forward, razor sharp tentacles erupting from its sides, whipping about wildly, only for turret crews to blast the tentacles off at the base, and for his artillery crews to shell it down from above, flattening it into the ground again with explosive shells.
Again, the beast began pulling itself out of the ground, only for another strafing run from aircraft , this time dropping standard napalm canisters onto the beast, making it howl as it healed around the canisters, and began burning from within.
It thrashed and writhed, tail and body whipping about, even as Caliburn kept firing, not letting up, shells puncturing the chitin bubble it was trying to form around the napalm to contain it, keeping it burning into the beasts body.
At last, the beast tried to fling itself at Caliburn, thinking that it could at least burn out the mechanical monster with it, only for Caliburn to swing and strike it, flinging it away again, the beasts body unable to get back up, and laid there, slowly burning away at last……………

Ugh. I need to vent here. Just woke up from ANOTHER dream about her(and her family). I'm almost 8 months post breakup and NC and still I'm having to deal with this shit. At least the dreams are way less frequent now and when I'm not sleeping I've noticed lately that I haven't been thinking about her as much.
It still sucks though. Even in the dream her family was telling me about her schemes and telling me how many different guys she had done this with before. Of course in the dream I had to witness her with the new guy too, awesome. That was the most painful thing for me. Her family even told me I was right for leaving her after all she had done. I never actually had interaction with her in the dream, just her family which I thought was odd. I think it's because in real life, i admired them so much and got along with them so well. I was excited to have inlaws like that in the future. They loved me as one of their own and I felt that in my bones. My family on the other hand, wasn't so fond of my ex. They knew what was going on behind the scenes.
I was still just trying to do the right thing in the dream too, like how in real life I was trying to salvage any chance of saving the relationship, foolishly putting aside in my mind that I my efforts were completely in vain, and she wasn't gonna change. For some reason in the dream her car was STILL at my house and I was trying to return it to her LOL. I even put a new battery in it and cleaned it out and washed it before driving to return it to her. So strange lol.
I know other people have dreams about their ex's and whatnot. I can't wait until someday I won't have to dream about her, or maybe it won't hurt as bad when I do. Someday I'll find someone who loves me genuinely, and it's not just a word, they show it through their actions. Someday I'll find someone with a healthy idea of conflict resolution, and the ability to take accountability. Someday.
I've never loved another being so much in my life. I didn't know it was humanly possible to feel this strongly about someone. However, I don't regret getting away from her at all. It is the single hardest thing I have EVER done in my life, but I had to do it. I know the thoughts will continue to fade and the dreams will fade into obscurity as well, until then I'm trying to surround myself with friends and people I care about, and share experiences and have dialogue with those in this subreddit. It has helped a lot interacting with some of you! Thank you!
On a side note-Today is a bright day, despite a dark start waking up so emotional from that incredibly vivid dream. This afternoon I'm meeting with someone I haven't seen in years who I used to care deeply for. We had tried dating several years ago but it just wasn't the right time in our lives. We split amicably and I never lost respect for her, she's a complete class act. I'm going into it completely neutral as I don't know what it's gonna be like, but nevertheless I'm excited. The only catch is that it's taking place in the same small town my nex lives in and my anxiety is SUPER high about seeing my nex. I can't let that stop me though. My nex controlled my life enough already, and she's not going to control it anymore. I'm gonna go meet with a legitimately good person who always displayed healthy behaviors and communication in a relationship.... something my nex wouldn't know anything about doing. I'm excited. Brighter days ahead.

(I'm not sure if this is against the rules, so mods please remove if so. And if you could suggest a subreddit that could help I would be very appreciative.)
As mentioned in the title, my brother is on a working holiday in Albania and is only there until the end of the month. He and his partner found two stray puppies who were hit by a car and he got them to a vet in Greece, and then took care of them again in Albania. He wants to get them homed but every place he contacts is either over capacity or doesn't speak English and can't help him.
Can anyone local in Europe/UK help us get these puppies homed or put us in touch with organisations who could help?
Both pups are fully healed up, have all their shots etc, and he's willing to help financially to get them wherever they need to go, but we just need help with facilitating all of this.
Here are the pups in questions: Pic 1, Pic 2, Pic 3
Any help will be appreciated! Thanks!

Rant & long post ahead Trigger warning - Elder Abuse
A bit background - I 32F have been taking care of my mother (55F) who has kidney & heart failure & on Hemodialysis thrice a week & also a mentally ill person. No siblings or any relatives who are even bothered to even listen to our problems leave alone helping us! I lost my father in 2018 to an illness. My mother is frail , weights only 39kgs & was hospitalized atleast 18 times in last 3-4 years for both her physical & mental illness.
I have reached a simmering point when dealing with her behavioral issues. I am very patient & I love my mom dearly & I can manage her physical health conditions. But I have reached a point where I can no longer deal with her behavioral issues. My mother is docile person but I have to shout a bunch of times to get her to wake up , then make her brush teeth, then go to toilet. Each of these steps requires me to shout & drag her....she is very messy & lacks hygiene & we only manage to make her take bath on alternate days. Throughout the day....I just have to do things for her...then shout at her to do things that I cannot do for her...like putting food in mouth etc . My mother constantly repeats the same words again & again....eg. I won't take bath today or I don't want to eat etc like a 50-100 times continuously & if I don't listen she would repeat my name untill I get irritated & threaten to punch her. Everyday I have to shout a few hundred times for basic things.
Things have escalated to such an extent that I burned her skin with a spoon I heated on stove top , hit her on the face , almost poked her eye & stomped on her feet which caused purple discoloration. I have been dealing very heavy handed with her a lot & also blacking out throughout the day due to stress. I am constantly losing things & not able to recall recent events. I have been seeing a psychiatrist since last year & have been put on three different anti-depressants/SSRI and sleep medications.
I am a calm & very Introverted person by nature , always avoided confrontations & rarely ever raised my voice but I am noticing my behavior changing a lot in last 3 years after dealing with my mother. Everytime I hurt her...I regret immediately & try to be overly affectionate to make up for my guilt.
I recently attended a relatives wedding & my aunts were literally irritated dealing with my mother for 1 day! Meanwhile my career has gone downhill & I have been barely holding on to my job.
I cannot detail the amount of PTSD I had trying to manage job , visiting mom at the hospital where she used to be hospitalized for weeks , talk to the doctors for updates & then going to office by afternoon for 10 hrs & barely surviving on biscuits for meals. All my life I have saved every penny I could, took trains/buses to travel all the time , never bought any expensive phone or a vacation since I started working. We live in a rundown house without ac or even geyser. I don't remember the last time i went to a restaurant!
Coming back...my mother just takes the abuse. She just behaves like a helpless little child. Also If I were to fall down & hurt myself in front of her....she doesn't react or show any concern.
I go through moments where I am extremely concerned about her well being & bending over backwards to make her safe & comfortable & also those moments where I am raging at her. My grandma also gets fed up & tries to occasionally slap my mother. This same grandma wouldn't even hurt tip of my mother's nail a few years back!
I am literally in tears typing this but I just wanted to rant. I have no one to share my burdens & I just wanted to confess this. I am also afraid I might do something that would injure her seriously or even kill her. I would never do such thing but there are moments where I actually imagine doing such thing & get horrified about it a moment later.
Note - I hire a stay at home maid for 3-4 months in a year but can't have them all the time does to financial reasons. Even when we had a maid...I had to step in all the time in helping them handle my mother as she is stubborn. Rest of the year it's just me with a little help from my 75yr old grandma who stays with us. I have already started therapy...I just wanted to rant here.