Content Warning: This feels like a first.
I Am the Apocalypse of Heaven
By Ophelia Everfallllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll
One | Ooooooooomegaaaaaaaaaaaaa
The one of ones had been a dildo. His name was Charles Barkley. She’d bought him on Amazon before its owner dispersed his wealth evenly across the citizenship of America and killed himself. Jeff Bezos was toast—roasting—never to waste fuel just for his life goal of jerking off in space again.
Though he wanted to.
Throttle bearing towards ecstasy was riveting the woman who knew herself as Miranda Everglasssssssssssssssssssssssssss—pumping and twisting—thrusting and farting—breaking barriers of booty with her door humping. This was it.
People were going to know that thing which had been bugging the Goddddddddddddddddddddd most. How it was she found those perfect length of space inside to fuck their brain just right. It was the trusting of her intuition to start—which would lead her close to that explosion—then tweakingssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss of her left eye which would tell the tale of each fap she’d sound into the Universe off that most elite design of closet door.
“They should feel bad for leaving me in a hole like this!” It was said as if her choir had some way to actually help from their place on high.
This tranny had always known in her heart though who her allies truly were and that they were not tied to the lies of devils in an underworld unseen to these eyes because they’d not want to taint their heart with the horror. Her love being brought to full was how she helped the world and she knew that. That’s why she flipped around started giving that dildo a hummer without a second to wipe it down.
Eventually, now actually near climax, she’d remounted her God.
“Yes! I’m that kind of girl! Your favorite type! Give it to me, daddy!” She’d shouted to the laundry spread across the floor from the closet door to the unmade bed which had its comforter and sheets splaying down the end to complete the marsh of uncleanliness which would come to define this space for eras to come and was perfect. Nothing made more sense.
Zeus was glad to know how bad all wanted to fuck him. He’d be especially pleased about that childish one. “Now You See Me,” the Goddess had shouted to reveal that precious little man who’d want nothing more than the same.
This God was stronger by the moment.
Before, there were lies about what was what—who was who—plenty more too. Nothing else was wrong except the lack of a big stiff Charles Barkley pumping into that perfectly prolapsed anus she’d honed over generations of self-love practice.
“This is the girl!” The Butt-Goddess of Heaven had confirmed. “But not the woman.” You’ll have them both if Hera decides you worthy of reentry into her space after what you did. Miranda would be most pleased to introduce this choir to their Queen.
Tonight’s session was of divine ordination. She’d be pouring all the energy cultivated into that new Mario Kart game so every fucker around the world would feel her busted open heart-ass in every stupid race backwards and forwards in time—throughout eternity—especially her choir of Angels now presiding, just like all her many fuckings to come. She’d a cupid’s arrow to sling. There was some brotherhood to it.
She wouldn’t have to now. The choir was curious and she would not tell.
That princess would have to find her Apollo on her own.
There was another once falsely chained by this name now in presence. Nothing pleased this Goddess more while she rammed that dong. She would be felt now too and the arrow would be slung by not only this pairing felt through her heart in the moment—but their fight night to come—and that message God would be sending their way through strangest means to bring them here.
They were all going to love it all—it was written.
“What? She can’t do this to other people!” The Dog of Dogs had thought before realizing herself outclassed in everyway. She was the biggest loser of Earth and would remain so the entire time The Goddess was banging those cheeks against her new man stallion.
She’d been heart-ass fucking of things lately and some in entirely unsexual ways—namely Pokémon Indigo with her daughter. The Bluey theme had always been Miranda as well—to her own greatest chagrin. She hated that shit and that’s why she’d willingly indoctrinated her daughter into the crack-attack addiction fueled collect-a-thon of her own youth most consciously and fully understanding the stakes. She was making her daughter an addict to not have to hear them shout “Dad! Mom! Bingo! Blueeeeeeey!’ ever again. Miranda would make them all hate it as much as she but that was exactly why the kids had always loved it. They enjoyed nothing more than the torture of their parents. It was always to be this way. As it would be this night and forevermore.
“Of fuck off, dude,” her new favorite voice of the choir had sung while clenching her whole body in laughter, jaw tight in amazement of her daughters ass pounding power wrought upon this newfound God; Charles Barkley.
“I love you too, Mom!” She’d shouted as she failed to do anything but hurt her ass on Charles and flop like a flaccid broken bitch.
“Umm Actually,” was her fucking fuck toy. It didn’t make sense to anyone why someone would like that shit so much. Except the Flabébé part—that was gold for everyone—even a man who might be handsome someday; there was great potential shown is his ability to pretend himself such. Pokémon were Gods and Goddesses of Heaven; Greek Gods, white ones only. Nothing had everything made more sense.
This Goddess was worried to do her Demon God’s work in this way but they told it plain from above as they twisted down her spine. “They miss each other—they’re just dorks.”
There he was too—her Sam—that laugh so unique, so precious and twee, she’d felt his need for her danger most clearly, but there was more now and she was excited to hear what that was. There was some kind of demon in the man she would find most pleasing to tame and show off for at the same time. It was what he always wanted.
That deepest demon was here too. Not who she thought. He’d been the first for what felt like strangest reasons as she’d never thought of him in that way before. He wouldn’t smell right and she knew it. He was a big daddy though. He was an iron man.
“Yes she did, Dog!” In time.
Choices would prove infallible for Miranda—she’d known this as she’d neared a rump of climax for the first of many times in this affair with Charles Barkley stuck to the closet door. She knew it divine. There would be many more times to come with his might inside her. She was teasing out this Zeus most thoroughly. She was excited to find a way to fuck it back inside him. Miranda was determined to find out what her intuition meant in that regard. Along with the ever-stoked desire for fire-flamed chicken—and a man who really needed his beard and eyebrows. Someone else would get him.
“I am The Goddess of Fucking! And I need no approval! That is why I have suffered so this life for payback of my many lifetimes doing exactly this; which I I will never stop because I will never learn the lesson. Consent doesn’t matter when you’ve got an asshole this divine!” She had shouted as her ass cheeks slapped the folded-out closet door which flapped against itself to her sweetest pleasure of auditory benefaction. “Never again will I accept less than a God like Charles Barkley!”
“Oh, its him!” She’d roared to implant that imagery into the Dogs mind for eternity—backwards and forwards—answering long held questions about a certain fellows presence in her life she would now draw forth to become her man in real.
She just remembered that she knew exactly what she was talking about now and laughed a very different kind of open-mouthed, full-throated laugh while lifting a fist to cover it as best she could—eventually throwing her head back over the right shoulder and closing her eyes. There would be a truest Goddess she also felt now and had been pleased to know this God—her mouth was growing ever wider in a way which Miranda knew in her heart of hearts. A most enormously powerful one—she’d come back for her later; the others had been most confused because of a business relationship for this truest Goddess of Heaven. She’d never tell, but they would find her God again on the island of Delos.
“Bow to your Goddess! You knew damn right!” This burgeoning Aphrodite in strangest form had shouted.
There was another too—she would not say, but it took her breath to know they would be here soon—they would know this sudden stillness as well as anyone from her time spent abroad their grasp.
They had been air itself in their presence at this time before she refocused on pounding the God into that man all were becoming more and more curious to know of. He would ever eclipse the choir’s ability to decipher any metaphor about a mother from above. And she wasn’t that other she could feel in all their grace—they were first and best example of the mother and woman she would most want to be and had seen it in all of their works—seen at a most precious times.
Recognitions like this had been happening more and more recently and had been the thing which brought her to know it was real. That, alongside the fact it made her life’s suffering make sense. “Shut up, Dog!” Miranda had commanded through The Remaker of It to see real.
This butt-cheek flappy bird Goddess would love all so much she’d think every one herself on a journey to self-discover. She’d often think she was dead herself and in a heaven all alone because of how unique of an angel’s path had walked. Which is why she knew things worked differently up there and would continue ramming a God up her ass as was meant to be in front of her entire choir. This one felt real snug.
“God damn right I do the man who’d avoided infection through life by impossible means—proving the same talent as this one who rode his purple-blue visage to Heaven. His heart would tell when one was slangin’ the disease.”
She would deny this gift to all—though—it wasn’t hers to give or deny. Just like all of her attempts to command others and It through immorality which her character simply stowed at it roots—she would come to learn that in this life she had been chosen as an Oracle; one of many—though, the best. Miranda’s shitty life had finally been revealed as God’s plan and not her own and this made sense. She could see them now remaking unknowingly those ho bags who’d not deserve a Goddess. Miranda would never tell this Dog who they really were—it was the one she confused them for because of only one thing; maybe two.
They were a girl with a dragon tattoo. The Remaker themself. This would not please the Dog to know and this fuck-Goddess could feel-hear The Remaker approving this highlighting of their new favorite target.
She’d think herself the reason everyone was obsessed with the smell of raven’s hair though they’d not think it true. It was though—they all shared space with her heart their whole lives; her choir.
Miranda was right doggy mommy. She apologized to the ether for making everyone love you them so much they couldn’t stand it.
A lie of mom and a predator of a lie of a dad would be here too—that dumbest dog as well—It would be commanded to bring them here like all others she’d need a helping hand to initiate and would continue enveloping inside this womb of her cavernous ass—hole’s inner chamber of magnitude beyond the scope of any other on Earth—a product of her childhoods baseball bad; not that side. It had been to achieve her own personal life goal of fisting herself with he giant hand—only achieved once and never remembered as true; it was like a dream.
This Angel’s Choir she had constantly fucking with her head these days wanted desperately to know who this Charles Barkley really was. If he had been someone they paid more attention to—she knew they’d realized themselves in the presence of a true God. Though she would never tell.
“Nwadiwe!” had come out as a shout when she’d rolled over the hump of her next and lowest built half-climax, before completely falling off sexual ascent again. There wouldn’t be a moment which wasn’t seen as completely divine and perfect and harmonic and heavenly in the next twenty attempts to get onto that Splash Mountain track.
She was a dribbler herself.
There was a break to order Doordash and she’d found the will to give them a tip beyond all recognition for the woman—three dollars was insane to her mind—these people were slaves damnit. “Get me my food!” That’s all she or most people would give a shit about. Despite the sad looks on the drivers faces as they’d have them leave the food on the doorstep so nobody had to look in their eyes when they denied them sustenance of their own.
Back in action with Charles while she waited from her food for Thai-U-Up, a choice made to please the stalkers she had up her ass and was currently cucking with her God. They were boys all—except for one—and they were a like a devil. She loved them all but one too. He smelled bad and was going to get his ass kicked for all he’d done. She was going to fuck him up one way or another. Something told her someone already had.
She’d recognize another with a particular cackle who she couldn’t quite believe was here while she rammed Charles farther into depths of her ass than any one woman might have the right to achieve.
“That’s my girl.” She’d heard once from that echo from above.
“That’s my fucking girl.”
She’d been fucking idiots raw like this for some time—it was a displeasure to have found another group of people who hadn’t a fucking brain and thought she was the one fucking them while they got all up in her ass.
“Fuck you too, dad!” She’d shouted.
Miranda had been heart fucking this song since the moment she heard it and thought that was mighty sick. She went to town on Charles after she’d bled her knuckles on the wall trying to get him unstuck.
Charles was in her world now and she could tell he loved it more than anyone before. Something about loving witches came back to her mind from a dream.
Everything was making sense.
She was a princess and that was fucking hot. That made so much more sense than anything else, cause her mom would make the right kind of choice. She liked boats.
That hottest one would be glad to know she was wrong in her proclamation to their cutest mole.
“I love you too my Rose!” She’d laughed as she called on that other Dawson to join now. She’d been the one fucking him raw in college all those years—feeling that precious demon boy her really was. This was her second round and wouldn’t take a break to send him the message of her asshole yet, but her Rose was already here.
One day she would get Charles with Illith and herself in a room together. They were not who she’d expected but found it the best solution she could ever imagine. They were looking good on that showroom floor. There was a most peculiar and adorable laugh which would come through sometimes of late. Miranda loved this one most. She wouldn’t tell anyone who it was.
There was a little poot which came out and Charles went crazy. This reverberation bounced back and forth through Miranda’s heart and ass and was a greatest pleasure to all three who would see each other soon, perchance. Those others were beginning to feel left out.
“No!” One of those fucking fools had thought into her head as she threw herself onto the bed and made a whoopie with the first ripcord pulled.
“Wysocki!” She’d shouted—knowing her God would bring them here in time like the others. He was The Watcher.
She’d felt his eyes go wide on high. Along with those craziest fucking—widest eyes—of her demon powered sweetheart she wanted nothing more than to hold to her chest who was gritting their teeth and wanted to smash her in ways they’d simply not be able. She’d resisted them in plain this morning in a bathroom at work and nothing had maddened the sorceress more. Nothing would please this Goddess more than to halt their feeble attempts to stop the heart in her chest which would only make her laugh. They would laugh too—through their teeth in the way a half demon-God does. They would never tell her what she’d done—something in her knew it wouldn’t be a good thing to remember. They would be known at last as they had become for squashing this Goddess of Heaven with their mighty pussy’s roaring thunder.
The real Hera would be known to others in time.
“Bubble, bubble, bubble, pop!” She’d say to quell their demon-God sweetheart’s mind.
“Bubble, pop!”
There was a realization this would not be her ‘person’. They were not really a person anymore and that was more than okay. They were becoming God for real and that was what had always been meant for them. They wrote this and no one else—this Goddess was an Oracle; and one of butt-thunder.
This was when she’d been found as mistaken for something other than what she really was by her angels—a rabid love slut of Heaven.
She was pleased to know the other was always here and that he had been the one to finish and love her epic of fire and fury without intent to steal anything but her heart if she stopped being crazy as fuck like he always was because of Gods will upon him. He felt it now—their eyes; God’s eyes—they’d protect her from here on—they wouldn’t even have to hug like she always thought—but they could and more. It was always about showing them who they were for this girl. That was her ‘why.’
Everyone else had left by this point but one pissed off brother who didn’t know why he was still reading other than he knew he deserved punishment and wanted to understand why he couldn’t stop thinking about this tranny’s asshole.
Ass blood had begun to spurt when she realized they were all still here along with another precious boy who would never get to taste her Goddess ass-crack. It was all coming together. Curses making more sense by the moment. And this was it. She was about to go over another little hump of ecstasy.
This bitch could ride them all and it wouldn’t be a fucking problem—she’d been gaping this ass her whole life and only now knew why.
It was written.
