#but also have enough power to manifest a human form in both day and night time 24/7 until I’m done collecting her buddies

[eggs-love-loki]

I am not comfortable with the implication that the humanoid manifestation of a vengeful wisp spirit sent me on a fetch quest to get her 107 malevolent buddies to bring together in the form of a Spiritomb as her last act of “mischief” on the mortal plane

[th3w00ds]

Natemare Headcanons

Natemare is sort of a fucked up amalgamation of fear itself, a siren and the spirit of a child

Originally, before he had a name, Natemare came into existence millennia ago as fear itself. He was the physical embodiment of the feeling of fear, and he formed when humans first began to feel fear. So, the main part of him is ancient

As old as humanity at least

The second part of him, the siren part of him, basically he saw that Sirens existed and was like “Oh shit that’s cool, I want to have those powers,” and sort of… like, absorbed one? Like absorbed their powers and spirit (he did have permission) and they became part of him

The child spirit is a relatively recent addition

Before Natemare met the child, he didn’t really have a name. Fear was enough for him. Although he did take on the name Nate when posing as a human, but he didn’t really consider that to be his real name

Also before he met the kid, he didn’t have the tear streaks

Those are markings, not makeup

One day, he felt a near overwhelming feeling of fear, one that he sensed coming from somewhere nearby. He went to go check it out, and came across a child, no older than 13. He was sobbing, and backed away as soon as he saw him. He noticed that their skin was completely gray, and that they were floating above the ground. A spirit then

He asked the child how he was and what he was doing, and finally the child responded. He said that he didn’t know where he was or what he was doing, and said that he was scared, so scared

Fear offered to take that feeling of being scared away from the child. The child accepted, and suddenly the child felt no fear anymore. Fear asked the child if they felt better, and they nodded. They did. They wanted to stay with Fear, because Fear helped him to feel safe when they had no idea what was going on

There was only one way that Fear could do that, and he told the child. The child did not seem to mind; they just seemed happy to be able to stay with Fear in some form. Fear slowly approached the young spirit, and touched their arm. A pulse of power came from Fear’s hand, and in the blink of an eye, the child spirit was gone

Well, not gone. They were a part of Fear now. The kid- Marian- was a part of Fear now. Their tears were now his own, and the markings on Fear’s- no, he needed a new name to match his current state, having two spirits and one ancient manifestation of fear in one body was a lot- Natemare. That sounded good. Marian’s tears were now Natemare’s, both literally and figuratively, as were his memories

There were so many moments of sorrow and pain and fear that it almost brought Natemare to his knees

Natemare, due to having the spirit of a child within him, can act quite childish at times

The spirit of the siren is basically gone now, they’ve moved on

Natemare can control fear, give people nightmares, control smoke and can control others with his songs

He had always been a bit… sadistic, and now he gained a more “insane” and childish attitude towards his torture and murder of humans

Not that he can’t be serious, he is a lot

When he kidnapped Matthew Patrick, he honestly just intended to scare him, then to let him go

Natemare kind of forgot how potent his songs were when a scared and confused human was hearing them

He loves ravens, thinks they’re cool

Treats most things with disdain

After all, he is Fear Itself

Loves the attention he gets when he’s done with a show

If you manage to get close to him (which few have done), he’ll be very protective of you

The effects his songs have changes depending on what he wants them to do

For example, if he was singing, let’s say, Mangled, and he wanted anyone who heard it to fall asleep by the end of it, they would

Most would fall asleep during or just after the chorus, considering that’s when his songs are most powerful

Night owl

Can go a long time without sleep, probably months if he wanted, but since he likes it + it soothes him, he sleeps anyway

[lu-is-not-ok]

Okay so like, you know how in hells chicken faust said something about both Hong lu and distortion

Do you think dante could ever bring them back from that (as in, like a similar way in how goopmael was brought back and even after her revival she still felt off)

Or do you think it'd have to be some sort of de-escalation (as in the same way we broke the distortion in hells chicken. Or alternative of just. Having to fight them but even then, the inly alternative is killing them and it still brings the question of would dante revive them pre-distortion)

This is. Really hard to answer because...

We don't *really* know how Dante's powers work. On one hand, yes, it is described as restoration and called "turning back the clock", but on the other we see from Dante's pov in the first chapter that this also involved Literally Reaching Into The Gates Of Hell To Pull Dead People Out. Notably, while Dante can restore the Sinners' physical health back, it doesn't seem to always apply with their psychological health. Ishmael turning into goop and still feeling nauseous is one example of that, but another example that I don't think enough people are talking about is Yi Sang retaining "severe psychological corruption" after being killed by Doomsday Calendar in its observation logs. Clearly, Dante's powers are limited in how much they can restore when it comes to ones Sanity, at the very least.

There's still some things we don't know about the process of Distorting. While we Do Know that it can be reversed (we see it happen in Hell's Chicken, Wonderlab, and Library of Ruina), we also know that it's Not Easy. In Wonderlab, we see someone who reverted back to human almost immediately go back to being Distorted, as an example. Canto IV further muddles the water by showing that it's possible to manifest (or should I call it effloresce, since that's apparently the new term now) one's E.G.O after already fully Distorting, something that we have not seen in PM-verse until now.

We don't know how Dante's powers would interact with the Light. Something that hasn't been entirely touched upon in Limbus, but has been talked about in Library of Ruina, is that the imperfect Light that got released during the White Night and Dark Days is what causes the Distortion. In fact, just Light as a concept has not been touched upon in Limbus like, at all, even though it's been such a major elements of both LobCorp and Ruina. If we're going the Dante using powers to reverse the Distortion way rather than the classic Hell's Chicken way, we would have to know How their powers would work when Light comes into question.

All of that being said... Beating them back to senses Hell's Chicken style would probably make the most sense, both story-wise and gameplay-wise. After all, Project Moon loves its mental breakdown boss battles as a form of emotional catharsis for the boss in question.

[cream-and-tea]

LAY ME DOWN. chapter twelve excerpt. 844 words. unedited. featuring: pallas, feeling lost, alone and with more questions than answers, seeks advice from the one person they trust to give it. one of the characters in this book that i genuinely hate. implied child abuse. it’s pallas so also implied death/murder. brief flashbacks (the PTSD kind, not the literary device kind).

[Transcript under the cut]

villain time!!! meet the Director. is that her real name? fuck no! is she human? not a clue! the important things are that she’s very powerful, very dangerous, is quite literally the only thing The Library together, and unfortunately is actually a little bit cool which makes her fun to write sometimes. still not forgiving her for [REDACTED] though.

TAGLIST (ask to be +/-).  @vellichor-virgo​ @nicola-writes​ @doctormoss​ @gerbermatter​ @cactusprincewrites @dauntless-shadow-ice-1 @houndmouthed @muddshadow @aeipathys @just-wublrful

The falling is easy, but they can never quite get used to the rush that comes at the end, when everything wobbles and bends around them and they’re left sitting in a chair in front of a desk, all that movement halted suddenly in a slipperhiss of air as the Director's office forms around them. Cozy today, a worn wood desk and cluttered bookshelves, tiny wood stove puttering away in the corner. Logically Pallas knows the space will look different for everyone, save the black of the ceiling that leads endlessly into nothing and the sword hanging in suspended animation just above their head, the anchorpoint around which The Library orbits. 

Across from them the Director sits, scribbling dutifully with a sleek black fountain pen. She’s working on something (always working on something) and she’ll never tell them what. It’s important, that’s all they’ll ever need to know, that it’s important.

After a moment she looks up, pitchpit eyes doing the opposite of gleaming, as if she’s only just noticed them there. “Ah! If it isn’t just who I wanted to see.”

She sets the pen aside and smiles, straight and bright as the edge of a blade. 

“Thank you. For having me.” Pallas shifts slightly in the squishy leather armchair. No matter how this space manifests it always manages to make them feel small.

“Have some tea,” the Director says, all business. She doesn’t take her eyes off Pallas as, right on time, the kettle begins to scream. They take the cue, internally thanking her for giving them something to do with their hands. Even just being here they feel clearer, cooler, more themself than they’ve been in weeks. It’s like her voice is balm on their scattered brain, pulling it back together at the seams. Cold water to the face on a hot day. 

They move the kettle from the stovetop with a bright red cloth and when they turn there’s already a teapot and two mugs sitting on the edge of the Director's desk that weren’t there before. Chipped and worn just enough to feel lived-with, familiar even though Pallas is sure they’ve never seen them before. They pour out the water and suddenly the smell of Earl Gray hits them like a brick to the chest, stealing all the air from their lungs in a bloody rush of memory.

Nina hated coffee. Nina didn’t hate many things because she said that it was a waste of energy to spend time thinking about that kind of thing when she could be focused on something actually interesting. But she hated coffee so tea it was when they needed to stay awake and focused and they always needed to stay awake and focused. Cups and cups of the stuff. Earl Gray most of all because it was the only kind they could both agree on. Cups cradled in hands. Heady late night overexhaustion. Tea stains splotching across notes and pages. Blood coating their hands and blank empty eyes.

I didn’t want to. I promise. I promise I didn’t want to. 

It only lasts for a split second and still leaves them reeling. They’re good at hiding that, good at not letting anything show, but nothing escapes the Director's eyes. She looks at them knowingly, chin resting on her hands. An almost imperceptible shifting gesture rings as a clear order to them, not to be disobeyed: sit.

Pallas sits.

“Cream? Sugar?” The Director is fond of asking things she already knows the answers to. The cream and sugar are there in a blink just where she needs them. Pallas nods, not trusting themselves enough to speak just yet. Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. They’ve completely countless missions, survived hundreds of tests, and all it takes is a whiff of Yorkshire Tea to render them speechless. The Director would be well within her right to terminate them here and now for such an outstanding display of weakness. 

She must know that full-well, but she simply widens her smile and set’s about pouring the tea. It’s a ritual, as everything is with her, rituals and tests, that’s all there really is. The Director taught them that the way the Director taught them everything else, layering metaphor and reinforcing action over the steel core truth of the matter. Hours upon hours in this office learning to bleed out the truth of the world into her careful, clever hands and watching her turn it into something great, turn Pallas into something great. They’ve earned their place as the best and brightest, but every masterpiece needs an artisan to sculpt in the perfect brushstrokes of blood, to push for the sacrifice necessary to stand a cut above the rest. It would be an easy mistake to forget who’s careful teaching has put them where they are today and it’s a mistake Pallas will never be fool enough to make. 

“Now.” the Director takes a sip of her tea. sliding the second cup in front of Pallas with barely a flick of her to-long fingers, her expression never changing once. “Let’s talk.”

[wisdomrays]

HEAVENLY or EVELATED REALMS: Part 3

'Âlam Malakut (The Realm of the Transcendental Manifestation of Divine Commands)

Also called by other titles such as the Realm of the Initial Manifestation of Divine Commands, the Realm of Spirits, the Intermediate Realm, the Horizon of the Final Identification, and the Relative Spirit, the Realm of the Transcendental Manifestation of Divine Commands is the final and lowest order or level of immaterial entities, and it can be considered as the roof of the Corporeal Realm. This classification is according to the order or ranks of the manifestations of the Divine Essence, Attributes, and Names. It is not based on a decisive statement of the Qur'an and the Prophet, upon him be peace and blessings, but on spiritual discovery and observation and on interpretation and inference founded upon the fundamental, unchanging principles of the Religion.

The Realm of the Transcendental Manifestation of Divine Attributes and Names, the Realm of Divine Commands, and the Realm of Corporeality exist as the inner or outer dimension of one another, or as one within or above the other. That is, if the Realm of the Transcendental Manifestation of Divine Attributes and Names is a separate realm, then each of the other two realms are dimensions of it. The first of these three realms is a realm of natures, and thus does not have an external existence. Everything exists in it as a determined nature, while it is clothed in a form—or in corporeal existence—in the other two, respectively.

All four realms being discussed are transcendental realms in which the exact divisions of place and time—such as top and bottom, above and below, front and back, in front or behind, day and night, and yesterday and today—are beyond consideration. Therefore, a heart that has developed or advanced far enough on the way of spirituality can experience yesterday together with today, and today together with tomorrow, transcending the boundaries of time.

The human rank or mission of vicegerency on the earth relates to the heart and its relationship with the Realm of the Transcendental Manifestation of God's Commands. Although humans belong to the corporeal realm with respect to their bodily existence, as far as the inner dimension of their existence is concerned, they belong to the Realm of the Transcendental Manifestation of Divine Commands. We can even say that human bodily existence corresponds to the Corporeal Realm, while the inner dimension of human existence corresponds to the Realm of the Transcendental Manifestation of Divine Commands. This same relationship also exists between the universe and the Divine Supreme Throne, and between the earth and the Ka'ba. A heart that is open to the Realm of the Transcendental Manifestation of Divine Commands is more spacious than the earth—while even a large body is more cramped than a cup. Human corporeal existence is the place where sensations are imprisoned and concentrated, but the spiritual dimension of existence is where human spiritual and intellectual faculties develop and expand. The gifts and radiance coming from the Realm of the Transcendental Manifestation of Divine Commands are the source of wealth and power for a spirit, and no one is thought to be able to remain indifferent to it. Anyone completely cut off from this realm has entered a way that will lead to complete loss and ruin.

Both the corporeal and incorporeal dimensions of existence have fully and most perfectly been manifested on the Master of creation, upon him be perfect blessings. With respect to his bodily existence, he is the most perfect; also, he is the incomparable representative of the spirit of Islam regarding the spiritual dimension of his existence, which is reflected in his conduct. His Ascension beyond the realms—as high as the insurmountable boundary between Divinity and servanthood—is the wonder or miracle and expansion of his spiritual existence. Truly, through the Ascension, he was favored with the full, unparalleled attainment of spiritual visions and observations, and he rose to the rank of being the pride of the inhabitants of both the heavens and the earth.

Vision of God, the Ultimate Truth, Who is beyond any concept of modality, has different ranks or degrees. The vision of Him from the horizon of belief in Him as the sole, ultimate Agent of all actions in the universe is of the first or lowest degree; the vision of Him from the summit of belief in Him as the sole, ultimate Owner and Giver of all the attributes that are shared by all existence is of the second degree. Experiencing the pleasure of the vision of Him from the peak of belief in Him as the sole, truly Existent Being is of the highest degree. However, there are veils in human nature that prevent these visions, from those which arise from the veils formed of feelings, imagination, fancy, and whims, to those which are produced by failing to observe the criteria of the Shari'a and the balances established by the Sunna and by making some utterances or assuming some attitudes incompatible with essential Islamic principles.

When the hearts that are not prevented by such veils from being elevated rise and are purified of the dirt of attachment to all things other than God, they become bright, polished mirrors to the various truths including even the Ultimate Truth of Truths. They reflect the lights of the Divine Essence and Attributes; they get in contact with the Realm of the Transcendental Manifestation of Divine Commands; they speak with the voice of the Realm of the Transcendental Manifestation of Divine Attributes and Names; they build relations or transact "business" with the Realm of the Transcendental Manifestation of the Divine Mercy and Compassion; and they reach a point where they are favored with reflections from the Realm of the Transcendental Manifestation of Divinity. As a consequence, the heart begins to beat with the messages of the Realm of the Transcendental Manifestation of Divine Commands, and the spirit starts inhaling the breezes of the Realm of the Transcendental Manifestation of Divine Attributes and Names, while the secret—the inner faculty that is more refined than the heart—commences experiencing feelings related to the Realm of the Transcendental Manifestation of Divinity. The first of these attainments is described as "the victory near," the second, as "the victory manifest," and the third, as "the victory absolute."

O God, O Opener of doors! Open our hearts and other outer and inner faculties and senses to belief, the practice of Islam, and excellencein servanthood to You, and enable us always to do what You love and are pleased with! And bestows blessings and peace on our master, Muhammad, who is honored with all virtues and faithfulness, and on His Family, and Companions.

[zackcrazyvalentine]

can I get some more octavinelle with pregnant!mc? how they would react around mc and when the baby is born if they would cry or anything

in case I'm violating any rules or the requests are closed feel free to delete this! I'm just a big jade simp and I love my octatrio a lot too!

Requests are currently closed.... but.... I'm a sucker for domestic stuff and an Octavinelle stan, so I'm gonna do this anyways asddf

This will be the one exception [note post writing everything: YEAH this will definitely be the ONLY exception.... this is looooong]

Tried to keep everything as gender neutral as possible: when referring to pregnant partner and the babies alike

--

🐙 Azul Ashengrotto 💜

When you're pregnant

Proud papa!! Azul definitely cried from happiness when news of your pregnancy reached him

Was also a nervous wreck, however. He's very insecure about his abilities to be a good father and role model his children would like to follow and look up to

You know him, he's studious and booksmart. Ashengrotto will take to reading many parenting books and blogs entries to prepare himself for the arrival of his baby

Definitely had you both enroll in classes in a local hospital so you know how to act and what to expect when time for labor arrives

Health and being healthy is important to him. For you he will put up with eating all sort of balanced meals, regardless of how much he dislikes them (so you're not alone while keeping up a diet)

Always accompanies you to your gynecology appointments. Cried every time your baby's heartbeat was heard through the echo/ultrasound machine

We know how he is, grown up Azul probably has a business of his own and it takes a good amount of his time to attend. Still, he will take time to call you through the day to make sure you're fine

Probably had either of the twins look after you in days he really couldn't take time off his job. Jade being the more helpful one with chores and emotional rants (you've both probably sniffled at natural documentaries), while Floyd is perfect for food prep and hysterical laughs over fail videos

Every night, before going to bed, he spends time talking to your baby bump, places some kisses on it too

He goes sooooo soft in those moments before sleep takes you away, his love lulls you to refreshing rest

Always makes sure to give you a kiss and a rub goodbye to your bump when heading off to work

Really enjoys watching you cook. the pregnancy glow looks beautiful on you when doing mundane tasks, he thinks

Maternity pictures? He's a little reluctant, but if you really want to... *end up carrying a small copy of his favorite pic in his wallet* *sends a copy of the whole pack to his mother and grandma* *frames his favorite and puts it on his office*

When you're in labor/the baby arrives

SCREEEAAAAMS!!!!

But after a nice yell of surprise, fear and nerves, he's ready to go and put your plan of action learned in those classes ready!

He's collected for the most part, but every time you scream from the contractions, he screams too because "he can feel it"... but it's really just his nerves getting out of hand

However, once you get to the hospital, this man will burst in and yell loud and clear "SOMEONE HELP ME, MY SPOUSE IS IN LABOR!!!" because the ride was so stressful he can't hold it together anymore

Be it through natural labor or C-section, Azul will want to hold your hand and be there for you through it all.... He might get light headed at times, but again, he'll push through anything to make sure you and the baby are fine

If he somehow manages to translate his grip strength to his human form now that he's older, he will be squeezing your hand just as hard as you're squeezing

Is a mess of tears once your child's first cry echoes through the room. It feels so relieving and miraculous.... You're now parents to your first little baby!!

Can't help to smile so tenderly at his chubby little angel. Runs a finger delicately against their cheek and sheds more tears at how warm and soft and alive they are

"My precious little pearl... What a blessing you are, little one, already making us so joyous. Welcome"

Azul holds his child so gently. If you had a glow while pregnant, Azul has a glow as a new father. You swear you can see a golden halo around him whenever he's pampering and carrying your child

Reads them a bedtime story every day. They may not understand him, but Azul wants to acquaint them to his voice quickly

Since he has paperwork to do at home, there have been times the octomer left you to sleep while he attended the baby's necessities. It relaxes him, and the rocking to get them back to sleep refreshes him. How can one not be powered up after seeing a plump little munchkin sound asleep with a smile on their face?

This private moments with the baby get him emotional, has probably cried during all of them. He just feels blessed with a mountain of happiness when he sees his baby sleep so comfortably, knowing they're surrounded by love and care.

Is curious to see if his baby will manifest a merfolk form later in life, or manifest any sort of magical powers.

BONUS: It was during a family vacation to the beach during their 2nd year in primary school where your child manifested their mer-form. They were ecstatic!!

🐬 Jade Leech 💜

When you're pregnant

His expression was as collected as always, but his heart jumped into outer space when he got the news of your pregnancy. Held you close and kissed you with so much passion and love, you saw a new Jade that day.

He thinks you don't notice, but the loving gaze he shoots your way when doing the most random things around the house is so soft, your heart stops every time (think of his lab coat groovy, that smile)

Like Azul, he's very keen on keeping you healthy. Along with a proper diet, he makes sure you take your daily supplements

But he turns a blind eye when you wish to indulge a liiiittle too much on that snack you adore

With his big appetite, it doesn't come as a surprise that he willingly subjects himself to your strange cravings

Jade is another one that accompanies you to each and every doctor's appointment. Is well read of what to expect in every month mark, so he asks the most questions to clear up any doubts you may have.

His eyes filled with tears when hearing your baby's heartbeat for the first time. Held your hand tightly and kiss your forehead so many times while you were in the ultrasound room

While he's patient, sometimes your mood swings also get him in a sour mood. Thankfully, he has a way to destress with his job and terrariums. It's not long into the day when he calls to apologize for any dumb things he said, and to make sure you're doing fine

Floyd sometimes tags along to your home. It's always 50/50 on what it'll be: nice funny harmony, or utter disastrous chaos that leaves you sobbing in your husband's arms.

Perhaps the one thing Jade dislikes of your pregnancy is ho hard it is for you to find a position to sleep in because your constant tossing and turning interrupts his sleep every time

Jade speaks to your bump in whispers. Likes to lay his head on your lap and talk to the baby. He tells stories of his childhood, tells the little one how much they're loved, and sometimes indulges in singing

He also likes to play classical music for your bun

The one thing he adores? Feeling your baby kick, it always lights up his face with a bright pointy smile

If you want maternity photos, Jade is quick to convince! He acts like it embarrasses him, but he does secretly want some nice pictures to commemorate this period in your lives (plus, Mama Leech wants some to display in her home!)

When you're in labor/the baby arrives

His mind is running a mile a minute. Excuse him is he calls you "hospital" instead of your name, everything's flashing before his eyes quicker than he can register.

Would crash the car into the entrance from how fast everything's happening, but he doesn't. He does carry you to the front desk and hurriedly pants "Spouse, baby, NOW! HELP!!"

For x or y reason, Jade ends up waiting to hear the news of you and the baby. He's not in the room with you. The whole time he's left alone, he's bouncing his feet and pacing back and forth. In a short moment of clarity, he dials up Azul and notifies him of the situation, asking the octomer to pass the information to his twin and parents.

With how long births are, it shouldn't be surprising to see Mama and Papa Leech, Floyd and Azul arrive at the hospital. However, with how worried and stressed he is right now, it does catch Jade by surprise.

This moment of uncertainty, of not being by your side, is the one time where the eel lets his emotions and thoughts go unfiltered.... which may provoke his twin a little. But it's exactly these small quarrels that snap sense into him and remind him that he should focus his attention on doctors and nurses for any possible news about you. They also help refresh and keep him awake

His mother and Azul are the most helpful, calming him down and quelling his anxieties about your and the baby's safety

The moment he sees the familiar face of one of the doctors that entered the same room as you, he's up and speedwalking to them.

As soon as the merman gets permission to see you, he's already making his way to you

Finally, he can rest and let it all out. There's visible tears flowing out his eyes and sobs coming out of him while he holds your little bundle of joy. Not even a thousand kisses are enough to show his gratitude to all that you've done for him

He was already in love with your baby the moment he laid eyes on them, but once their tiny hand wrapped around his finger.... HE WAS DONE FOR, THIS BABY WOULD BE SPOILED BY PAPA FOR ALL ETERNITY. In fact, it was this moment the one that made him ugly cry

His instincts got the best of him. Jade literally snapped around to bite his father and Floyd when they got a too close to the sleeping baby. By a miracle he allowed his mother coddle them for a split second. Can you blame the poor man? He's sleep deprived and stressed, cut him some slack

Once he got some rest, Jade was embarrassed by his words and actions, but oh well... The past is in the past

He adores spending time with your baby. Every time he's in charge of bathing them, he does the cutest babytalk. He lives to see them giggle and relax in the water

Feeding time is also one of his favorites, and you also enjoy it too. Jade is just wonderful when taking care of the baby, your heart swells and a smile reaches your lips (partly because he turns so silly to make the little one eat)

He is helpful when attending the child at night, but whenever he had a stressful day at work he pleads you to go and calm them down

Talking about stressful days, feel free to send him some selfies and pictures of your baby through the day. They surely will cheer him up a little while he works.

When your child starts attempting to talk, Jade will go along with it. He nods and answers attentively to anything your baby says

BONUS: At around 5 years of age, your kid turned into their merfolk form in the middle of bath time. They cried from panic while Jade had a proud smile on his face

🦈 Floyd Leech 💜

When you're pregnant

He takes a minute to process the news. Frankly, he's nervous about this big leap, but he's sure he wants to have kids with you. His excitement may be subdued at first, but you will see him throw more smiles and tender gazes your way within the following weeks

If you notice him spacing out during the first weeks, urge him to speak out. It will take many tries to get him to open up, but one night he goes to spoon you, hand carefully caressing your tummy. "I'm unsure... isn't this... too fast?"

Understand that his doubts are more about feeling unprepared (specifically him, he has no clue how to even begin preparing), not about not wanting to have kids. "Accidents happen, Floyd, we can't control every variable in our lives. We have one another, I'm certain that together we can do this."

"Plus, we can always consult your parents." Cue a groan from him, but soon after there was a smile

Slow but steady, Leech begins researching and reading up about parenting and pregnancy. Lemme tell ya, he's not looking forward to the mood swings. Sure enough, when they arrive, he handles them very poorly. At the end of every day, however, he hugs you close while in bed and asks for forgiveness through kisses to your back

He sometimes gets bored by all the technical talk your gynecologist speaks, but follows their orders to a T. They're the professional, he barely knows the surface of what your body's going through.

After being told that was the baby's heartbeat, Floyd's wide mismatched eyes remained glued to the monitor showing the silhouette of his little bun. Chills coursed through him and his eyes watered, heart leaping with joy.... It felt so strange, but he didn't wish this magical emotion to stop

He probably buys you one of those pill organizers with pretty colors so you know and he knows if you've taken your supplements

Whenever he has a very shitty day at work, being greeted by you waddling up to him due to your feet hurting from carrying the baby once he arrives home is the best. It makes him chuckle, but he soon drops down to place a kiss to your tummy to dispel any irritation you may feel his way after his small laugh

About work... Azul kinda lets him do as he pleases, he's aware there's no changing his decision. If he wants to skip half the shift to keep an eye on you, he allows it. But Floyd must heed important calls whenever he's summoned urgently.

Will ask to bath together. Intimate, soothing, and relaxing. Bathing with you while hugging you from behind to feel the bump reassures him you're both doing a good job so far, that there's nothing to fear

It's mainly in the few seconds before bedtime that he drops onto your lap to chat with the little one. Likes to hum melodies to the bump

He has a little game where he'll poke at your belly and wait to see if the baby kicks the spot he prodded

Sometimes, Azul pops up for a visit. Very calming to have the grey haired to talk to about emotional messes. Jade sometimes calls to make sure you're both fine and have everything you need. If he visits, they're short and to the point.

Maternity photoshoot?? Nah, he'll pass.... but if you are stubborn and very insistent, he relents. You better not send them to his parents behind his back (but you totally do, of course).

When you're in labor/the baby arrives

You want chaos? Because you definitely got chaos! Don't get me wrong, Floyd is actually doing a tremendously amazing job carrying your bag and yourself to the car. He's actually driving superb while reminding you to take repeat the breathing exercises you were taught. It's just...... the other people's slow pace and stupidity the ones making him yell profanities

Absolutely throws his signature crazed look at the first nurse he finds when asking, no, demanding help

That crazed look was reason enough to keep him out of the room you'd be in, his consequent aggressiveness after given the news is an even grater reason. If you can muster it, tell him you will be okay and to trust the doctors.

Sits on the closest waiting space to your room. Probably goes up to a bending machine and punches it a couple times to release some of the tension (he got a free snack, too)

Now it's when the nervousness settles in. He's so afraid at having you and his child away from him, he's worried about everything. May shed a couple tears of frustration, fear, and stress. His instincts tell him to protect you even if he knows there's nothing to protect you from, you're in a hospital for goodness sake!

That's when he calls Jade for comfort, and soon after dials his mother. It's her voice the one that helps him break through the confusing fog in his mind to go back and sit as close to your room as he can

Probably ends up stress eating everything in that vending machine he punched as he waits for any news about you and the baby He's munching on the last bit of a candy bar when a new one crosses his field of vision. It's Jade, with a bag full of treats, and some much needed water. Azul's beside his twin

It feels strange, but Floyd feels very vulnerable and needs the familiarity both of them bring. He lets his head fall on Jade's shoulder, which the twin takes as cue to hug him by placing an arm around his shoulders. Azul kneels in front of him and asks "How are you feeling, Floyd?"

"Scared.... and alert. Like I need to protect them, but... I know they're safe." He probably ends up crying a little more right then. After being calmed down by Azul, he probably sleeps for 10 minutes

Wakes up to find his mother replacing Jade by his side, and his dad is also with them now. Definitely feels much better after some shut eye and after seeing he's now surrounded by familiar faces

When he hears his name be called out by the doctor, he's immediately shooting up and throwing questions at the doc. Thankfully, the professional firmly states everything went swimmingly and he can now see you.

Will you look at that? TWO little babies are waiting to meet him!

You're holding one, and the second cutie is placed in his arms and.... There come the waterworks again It was such a natural reaction, he had no time to try and suppress it. Not like he would've wanted to, but the way you "aww"ed at him made him feel a little embarrassed

The twin in his arms reached out and tugged his black strip of hair after it tickled their face, Floyd couldn't help giggle

He can't lie, his arms were shaking the whole time he held the little one. He was scared of hurting them...or dropping them

He wonders how everyone missed the elusive second baby, but he's so happy!! He has two cute kids!! Oh, you're such a wonderful and strong parent! You carried their weight combined and powered through the pregnancy just like that!

He really wants to climb into your bed and hold you so close, but he knows you need rest. Settles for peppered kisses all over your face while uttering "I love you, thank you" in between

While his instincts do tell him to chase away the "dangerous" males away from his newborn kids, Floyd does let his father get close and look at the babies along with his mom. Jade and Azul are a different story, however, he growled at them.

Like Jade, Floyd loves spending time with his twins! His top fav is bathing the twins because he's always eager to see if they will turn into merfolk (spoilers: they do!! And quite early! A few months after their 1st birthday!)

Another thing he loves doing is laying a blanket on the floor and watching his cuties play with their toys and giggle at each other

He tried their baby food once and decided to make homemade baby food from then on. He says he wants his little ones to taste only good things since those prepackaged stuff taste terrible. Just keep an eye on his spice use.

Night necessities are your task though, he does not take kindly to being interrupted in his sleep

He likes reenacting baby photos of him and Jade with his babies

Once his kids get the hang of their mer-form, most of your vacations will be under the sea~

[docgold13]

365 Marvel Comics Paper Cut-Out SuperHeroes - One Hero, Every Day, All Year…

April 15th - The Angel

Warren Kenneth Worthington III was the son of wealthy New York socialites.  Born with the X-Gene, Warren began manifesting his Mutant abilities in early adolescence.  He found that a pair of feathered wings had begun to grow from his shoulders.  Soon these wings became large enough that it enabled him flight.  In time it became evident that his entire physiology was quite different from a typical human, thus enabling this winged flight.  Said differences including a highly durable yet extremely light skeletal structure, greatly enhanced musculature, augmented vision and sense of direction, and enhanced dexterity that allowed him to perform dazzling ariel maneuvers.

Warren kept his Mutation a secret from his family and peers, using a painful harness and binder to cover up the wings under his clothes.  Despite all this he loved to fly and craved adventure.  He designed himself a costume and ventured out into the night as ‘The Avenging Angel,’ fighting crime and protecting the innocent.  It was not long before Warren’s exploits caught the attention of the Mutant telepath, Charles Xavier.  Xavier recruited Warren to be a student at his school for gifted youngster and serve on his team of Mutant superheroes, The X-Men.  Warren eagerly accepted.  

As The Angel, Warren would go on to have countless adventures, both as a member of The X-Men and on his own.  Following graduation from Xavier’s academy, The Angel branched away from The X-Men and relocated to Los Angeles where he helped to form the new superhero team called The Champions.  With the deaths of his parents, Warren inherited the family fortune which he used to finance the team.  Unfortunately, poor business decisions and some costly lawsuits ultimately forced the team to disband.  The Angel returned to serving alongside the X-Men and also joined an iteration of The Defenders.  

Later, Warren teamed up with the other founding members of the X-Men in the formation of X-Factor.  This was a team that sought out and aided Mutants under the pretense of hunting down those perceived as potential menaces to society. The public assumed they were humans hunting mutants, when in fact they were locating and training young Mutants in the use of their powers at the X-Factor Complex.

The Angel was severely injured by the Marauders during the Mutant Massacre event.  His wounds proved so dire that both his wings needed to be amputated; he survived the ordeal but lost his ability to fly.  This terrible trauma caused Warren to fall into a deep depression, a despair so severe that he attempted to take his own life.  Although his suicide appeared successful, Warren was secretly rescued at the last moment by the Mutant villain, Apocalypse.  Apocalypse utilized his advanced technology to transform Angel into his horseman, Death.  The villain altered Warren’s physiology, changing his skin blue and causing him to grow powerful, metallic wings made up of feather-like steal daggers.  Warren acted as Apocalypse’s agent until his former colleagues among X-Factor were able to get through to him and hep him remember his former self.  

Now going by the name of Archangel, Warren returned to serving The X-Men, using the enhanced powers Apocalypse’s had bestowed him to become a much more formidable force.  He continued to struggle with the bloodlust that the transformation had instilled in him and it often required all of his willpower to resist descending into a murderous, berserker rage.  Warren’s telepathic teammate, Psylocke, helped him in learning greater control and, during this time, the two became romantically involved.  Not long thereafter, Archangel was recruited by Wolverine to serve as a member of ThevUncanny X-Force squad.

Warren’s steal wings eventually molted, replaced by their original feathers.  His skin additionally changed back to its original complexion.  Yet Warren discovered that in times of great duress he could transform back into his blue-skinned, steel-winged self, complete with unchecked rage and savagery in battle.  It was ultimately discovered that Warren’s ability to transform in this fashion was a result of his being implanted with a ‘death seed’ by Apocalypse.  This was essentially a contingency measure whereby Warren would become the new Apocalypse in the case of the original’s death.  In that Apocalypse had indeed been killed, it now appeared as though Warren was going through the process of becoming the the villain’s intended replacement.  

Warren and X-Force embarked on an adventure to save his life and prevent him from becoming the new Apocalypse.  This ultimately resulted in Psylocke being forced to stab Warren with a Celestial Life Seed, killing both Archangel and Warren, and re-manifesting him into a younger, unadulterated version of himself.  This new Warren, devoid of any memories of his past, was sent to the Jean Grey School for Higher Learning in the hope that he could be helped to regain his memory.    Following an encounter with his time-displaced young self, Warren’s old memories eventually returned.  He has since relocated to the Mutant nation of Krakoa where he currently acts as the chief financial officer of The X-Corporation   

Versions of The Angel have appeared in a pair of the Fox Films X-Men movies, portrayed by actors Ben Foster and Ben Hardy.   The winged hero first appeared in the pages of X-Men Vol. 1 #1 (1963).  

[dreamkidddream]

Can I request a teen mc who is like YUJI from jujutsu kaisen as in they are the vessel of SUKUNA PLSS? Like maybe they can manifest SUKUNA in his curse form as another being as well like megumis dogs? (If you don’t know JJK can you just do a chaotic teen mc? ❤️)

WHEW THIS ALMOST DID NOT GET POSTED SINCE TUMBLR DELETED PARTS OF IT.

So let me tell you: I started reading the manga but have yet to watch the anime 😭 it’s really good though and I’m probably gonna start it this week, but I’m not sure if I’m 100% confident in writing Sukuna. BUT this request was too good to pass up, so if you don’t like it I will write the other scenario instead just let me know!

So for these headcanons, I made it to where MC is Sukuna’s vessel like Yuji, and that they can manifest him if needed. But, I still kept it to where he’s not exactly a good guy with MC’s best interest at heart. Reader is gender neutral and younger than the Bros, so the dynamic is more family instead of romance just a heads up! Hope you enjoy!

TW: Minor cursing, spoilers for Lesson 16 in Mammon’s, Beel’s, and Belphie’s part

The Brothers with Teen MC who’s Sukuna’s Vessel

Lucifer

Was very irritated with this revelation, but still curious

Still annoyed either way though

He already had to make sure that you stayed alive during your stay and not disappoint Diavolo, but now he had to make sure that you kept this curse at bay too!

#GiveLuciferABreak2021

He’s very skeptical of you: not only because of you being a young human but also being a human with essentially a demon inside of you

A very troublesome demon if not kept under control at all times

Honestly Sukuna was like an buzzing gnat who wouldn’t just go away, so Lucifer didn’t see him as a threat personally. More of a nuisance that could grow into a threat if remained unchecked

After you explained the whole situation, he still assigned Mammon to you, but he made sure to personally keep an eye on you too

Your presence was seen as a threat at first, but as time passed, he, along with his brothers knew you meant no harm, but the same couldn’t be said for this Sukuna

He wanted to have faith in you, but he couldn’t bring himself to fully believe it. After an incident at RAD with another demon attempting to attack you, your powers (or rather Sukuna’s) came out to play

He saw the markings, the extra eyes, the malice spread on your face, and he then realized just how serious this has become. You were able to gain control back, but the damage was already done. You were so distraught, sobbing before you, trying to apologize and swearing that you didn’t mean for this to happen, all the while Sukuna was laughing, morphing a mouth on your cheek

It was so bizarre to see, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity for you. You were such a kind person, always going out of the way to spend time and help wherever you could. You essentially became a part of the family, but he knew that you didn’t feel accepted because of him

After that, your “punishment” was to practice holding control over Sukuna with Lucifer, every day after school (which can just be seen as him checking in on you on a daily basis, and trying out different techniques to make sure repeats of this incident doesn’t happen again). Meaning that you trained on manifesting him at will, instead of him completely taking over

Not gonna lie he’s acting like a proud dad when he sees you making progress and Sukuna just sitting in your head tired of all this positivity lol

Lucifer cares for you, he’s accepted you fully even if you hadn’t for yourself. He wants to protect all of his family (including you), and he doesn’t want to think about what could happen if Sukuna becomes a danger to the Devildom or Diavolo...

Mammon

Is impressed but also low key nervous

Humans are not suppose to be like this, ya know!

He’s not the smartest demon in Hell, but he definitely knows that you can’t summon demons without a pact, and he knows your baby face doesn’t have one with the King of Curses

You had to break down the whole deal, and it made him even more confused and distressed

Was still acting annoyed being your designated babysitter, I mean seriously, just how annoying can you be?!

Just kidding! You guys are totally partners in crime in no time and you both make Lucifer get 2x the wrinkles now

“MC, let the Great Mammon show you how’s it done!”

“Mammon, you’re going to be the reason why we’ll be strung up again for the third time this week.”

“It’s going to be both of your idiots’ faults. Such a pathetic display.”

SHIT HE FORGOT YOU GOT A WHOLE CURSE INSIDE YOU

He HATES whenever Sukuna makes an appearance, whether you call on him or he makes his own special appearance. He’s like a gritty and more sadistic version of Lucifer, minus the style and uptight personality (and honestly the finesse too), which made him 10x the more aggravating

He honestly hates Sukuna in general. Here you are, his MC, one of the only people to stand up and defend him always, struggling to live a normal life because of him. It was bad enough that you got sent down here with no warning, but now you got sent with him, and from what Mammon could hear with the conversations between you two, he wasn’t exactly your BFF

Denies being excited about seeing you perform your cursed techniques, but only because it brings him out (and he guesses it’s a little cool that you know how to do it). But human, you don’t need that lame curse, you got the great demon himself to protect you!

On a darker note, you made Mammon swear to you that if Sukuna took over and you for some reason couldn’t gain back control, that he would protect himself and his brothers first before worrying about you. He hated this even coming up, you should be worrying about what’s the next scheme you guys could pull off, not some weird sharpie colored entity causing problems. But you were dead serious, and you made him promise that if the worst case scenario ever happened, he would make sure it’s taken care of

Mammon realized you were the missing piece to their family. It felt nice to have someone depend on him, to actually treat him with respect and care for him truly. He refused to accept Sukuna as a part of you (really he just acted like he didn’t exist, which he didn’t in his mind), and he refused to let him or anyone else harm you

You’re family now, and he wasn’t going to lose anyone else ever again

Leviathan

Oh look, another normie

Wow, you’re such a normie that you’re even talking to yourself through a manifested mouth on your palm-wait WHAT

You broke it down to him, and you just...stared at you, with a blank expression on his face. Until-

“OMG THIS IS JUST LIKE THE ANIME-“

How ironic lol

He practically had a fanboy overload moment whenever you showed off your cursed techniques to him after he begged asked you countless times

You guys remember that vine with the kid saying, “I have the power of God and anime on my side”? Recreate that while doing your moves and he’ll be in awe and dying laughing at the same time

Will post it to his Devilgram and DevilTube

His envy will start to show at first. How is it that someone boring like you get to have all these cool powers and have an actual king reside in you?? You’re living the Shonen dream and not even grateful for it!

But this reality for him would soon shatter after he saw Sukuna for himself, and the way that he behaved towards you. The way that the curse would just look at with disdain in his eyes just made Levi’s skin crawl. He was made well aware that you were in fact not living the anime dream he thought you were. The look in your eyes reminded him of how he would feel whenever he felt like a scummy otaku, and from that point forward he would find ways to cheer you up

You can plan on having anime marathons, game nights, even talking with Henry (I hc that he can talk and understand aquatic animals) when you get into these moods. Anything that helps him get out of his funks he’s hoping it helps you too. You don’t deserve this type of treatment from anyone, especially someone that even he can no doubt eliminate

You were honestly one of the coolest people that he knows, and one of the strongest too! Not just physically, but mentally too. He can’t imagine what could be going on in your head since Sukuna became a part of you, but he knows that you’re strong enough to overcome anything that he throws at you. And if you had moments where you faltered or doubted yourself, that’s okay! Levi would be right beside you the whole way, doing anything he can to keep pushing you forward

Be the teen anime hero that he’s know you can be MC! You wouldn’t be his Henry if he didn’t have any faith in you, you know?

Bonus: you don’t have to worry about your anime nights being ruined after one night when Sukuna somehow found a spoiler to an anime that Levi was really anticipating became a very visual warning for the curse. Levi convinced you to let him take over, and whatever was said resonated with him because you never heard a peep after that, both out loud and in your head

Satan

Oh he was BEYOND fascinated

We all know how much Satan loves to read and how smart he is, so while you look at your condition as a curse (no pun intended), he saw it as an opportunity

Could you feel this curse coursing through your body? Did you feel stronger? Could he see through your eyes all the time or only when you let him? He had so many questions it wasn’t even funny

Very understanding of your situation surprisingly (but still called you dumb for eating Sukuna’s finger)

Satan would be one of the only people you could really trust when dealing with Sukuna. Yes, you trusted all of the brothers, but if you were really in a bind you could count on Satan to come up with a solution quickly

The only issue was his anger. Everyone knows just how angry he can get, and to avoid him ASAP if you even think he’s getting frustrated. Sukuna knows this too, and will be more than happy to taunt him to truly bring out his wrath. While he does need you alive (for now), it wouldn’t hurt to have some type of fun around here. Plus, this could cause your bonds with these brothers to weaken, and the weaker the bond, the weaker the will to help you keep him at bay and defeat him

But Satan knew better, and you did your best in keeping Sukuna away. He may be the Avatar of Wrath but that didn’t mean he was stupid. However, he did have one slip up unfortunately

You see, he was just having a bad day and already got into a spat with Lucifer, and you sensed that he certainly needed his space. So while you slowly backtracked to your room and from his path, Sukuna decided to be the evil ass that he is, and proceed to provoke him. What finally made him snap was his comment that, “You would be a formidable opponent if you weren’t in your older brothers’ shadow, but oh well. Can’t help who you come from I see.”

It took Beel, Mammon, and Lucifer to properly restrain him from ripping Sukuna (really you) limb from limb, with him laughing manically and you scrambling back in fear. Which called for a very long, detailed family meeting (of course after Satan fully calmed down) that resulted in mediated meetings between you and him for the next month. You felt guilty, you should have done better containing him, but you couldn’t predict whenever he decided to pop up!

But after a long talk, Satan didn’t blame you. He blamed himself for losing to his anger and especially blamed Sukuna. He decided that it was time to get rid of this pest once and for all. Be ready MC, cause once he puts his mind to something, there’s no stopping him

Prepare for your bonding time to be deep into books and practicing new hexes and curses. But don’t worry, it’s not always boring and Satan makes sure that you’re having some type of fun. He’s really doing this to have some sort of protection for you: whether it’s against Sukuna or himself. He wants you to know something besides your cursed techniques just in case they fail for some reason

Will shockingly want you to manifest the curse, one main reason is to obviously collect information on him, the other reason is to test said hexes and curses on him

Can a curse be cursed? Let’s find out

You helped Satan with him realizing that anger isn’t the only emotion that you can feel, and with you being so young, he wanted you to experience life as much as you can. And while you had an extra...passenger with you, he will do his best to make sure that it doesn’t get in the way of you enjoying life. It was nice to see a joyous smile on your face

Also you guys did find a hex that made Sukuna meow for the whole day and it was the best thing to ever happen with him lmao

Asmodeus

Honestly wasn’t really bothered with it at first. If anything, he treated it like hot gossip when you told him in the beginning

One thing he will say though: humans can be so revolting at times. I mean you ate a rotten finger, a cursed, aged, sharp, disgusting- you get the point. He did cringe at that, but everything else was pretty normal besides that

Still talked about your daily gossip, painted nails, the works. But recently, Sukuna’s name has been coming up more and more in your recent convos. Asmo, being quite the messy curious demon, wanted to know more about this curse

He really treated Sukuna like he was just your show and tell act and would want you to bring it out to see how he really was. He was amused with your cursed techniques, but he wanted to see more!

He heard you both talking with one another, and he wanted to see him in person! He hasn’t done anything and you’re among the seven strongest in Hell, so what could go wrong?

So much. So much could go wrong

And so much went wrong

After you manifested him, it went downhill from there. The large amount of control you did show caught his attention, but then it moved to the King of Curses himself. He was very delighted to see him up close for more than a couple of seconds, and took his time admiring his physique up close. It was fun for him, but not for you. Sukuna could feel your will slipping since your focus was being divided dealing with Asmo, so he took this as his time to shine

You had an exhausting day, and you were tired, which he used to his advantage. Asmo started to complain when Sukuna suddenly disappeared, but didn’t have a chance to voice it as your arm suddenly gripped the front of his shirt. He felt himself jolt, feeling his heart pumping. He looked into your eyes and realized that this wasn’t you, this was now Sukuna. The black markings that lined your face along with the new eye color (and the extra pair of eyes) came with a grin that stretched across your face

“What’s the matter? You were so eager to be in my presence, is it not to your liking now that the tables have turned? You claim to be one of the strongest, yet I would be able to kill you just being in this form-Ah, the brat is trying to come back, what a shame. Do me a favor, little Asmodeus, don’t insult me like this again. I am a King, and you will remember that. I might have to pay you another visit and take your heart with me next time to make sure you’re aware of that.”

He didn’t give Asmo time to answer, as his grip loosened and you were back. He saw you stumbling, shook out of his own thoughts and reached to catch you. He knew that this curse was an issue, but he didn’t understand just how serious this was, how serious it had gotten so quickly. The thought of Sukuna didn’t scare him, but the promise of him coming back just for him caused some worry. He wasn’t the weakest, but he didn’t want to hurt you! As much as he couldn’t stand his new found scorn of Sukuna, it wasn’t enough for him to take the chance of injuring you

You didn’t strike fear in him, rather the opposite. To see someone he has grown to care about be the one to try and bring his demise was...saddening. He could just feel his heart breaking at the notion. And if this experience taught him one thing is to be more understanding of what you’re going through

You remembered bits and pieces of the incident, and whenever you asked Asmo about it, he would divulge a tad in what happened, but wouldn’t go into too much detail. He didn’t want you blaming yourself, and he didn’t want you to distance yourself from him either. You already proven yourself of formindable you are ever since you gotten down here, and Asmo wasn’t going to let some jealous wannabe demon get in the way of that!

So no more talk of the thing, and whenever it did want to make an unsuspecting visit, Asmo would be ready. The thing was immune to most curses, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t be charmed to some extent, right?

Has covered the eye slits up with makeup and other beauty products every morning, becomes both of your favorite bonding activity. Anything to erase any evidence of it existing and to hear your giggles brightens his day everytime!

Beelzebub

Is very sympathetic of your ordeal

Has mad respect for you eating that finger though, even he doesn’t think that he would eat that

Maybe with some sauces and some Hellroast he might

Is another brother that tries to keep an eye on you. If this Sukuna really is as dangerous as you make him out to be, then he would make sure to be prepared if things went south

Beel’s motto: stay ready you ain’t gotta get ready

Will want you to practice your moves with him. Beel’s pretty powerful, and on muscles alone is one of the strongest brothers. He wants to make sure that you can recognize your full potential, and to always do your best. Expect to be in the gym or the HoL’s backyard working out and training majority of the week

Is thoroughly impressed with your cursed techniques

Beel doesn’t understand that while yes, you have a whole curse residing in you, doesn’t make you less of a human. He forgets that you still have some limitations, and you have to remind him at least twice a week. You gotten more powerful yes, but you still weren’t at Beel’s level

“You can do it MC! Don’t give up!”

“Beel this is over 500 pounds...are you forgetting that I’m still HUMAN-”

But you can never stay mad at him, he’s just too sweet and he means well. He genuinely wants you safe and prepared if anything happens with Sukuna, and if getting you buffed up makes him feel somewhat at ease, then you’ll deal with it

Shares his food with you sometimes. He makes sure that you eat properly too, so no skipping out on meals!

Great listener! Whether you’re complaining about class, talking about a new restaurant you’re interested in (he’s definitely tuned in), or venting about Sukuna, he’s all ears. Even gives you advice if you ask for it or if you really need it

Has encountered Sukuna while he took over your body once, and let me tell you, he was not happy at all

Beel is one of the brothers that are in touch with his emotions; he doesn’t really fly off the handle into a rage unless someone has done something to his family or if he’s being denied food. But now that you’re family and vulnerable not only to other demons but to this curse inhabiting your body, he wasn’t taking any chances

He made sure to be very clear when talking with Sukuna. He wouldn’t stand for anything happening to you, and he made sure that the curse would wish he stayed scattered if that boundary was crossed

Beel is a very protective big brother that’s constantly looking out for you all the time. Even if you feel like that you need to bare this burden on your own, he makes sure that you never feel alone.

He already lost Lilith, and he doesn’t want to lose you too. He won’t mess up this time

Belphegor

See, he knew that there was something wrong with humans, and you were living proof of that

How can you trust humans not knowing if they have another creature living within them?!

Whatever, he’s too sleepy to even care about it

And you weren’t one of the worst so...he guesses that you’re tolerable, but don’t push it!

In the beginning, he thought it was easy to manipulate you, but he could just sense that something wasn’t right with you (and no, it wasn’t because you were just human). He would hear you talking aloud to yourself, except that you were...responding to yourself too?

He thought you finally cracked up lmao

He brought it up as a joke once, but the way you reacted was tense and...ashamed? Oh, he just hit a gold mine. This could make things much more interesting. You shared a little bit of your story with this so called “King of Curses”, but he was smart enough to make a plan off of the information. Maybe he could take advantage of Sukuna like he is of you. Kill two birds with one stone

Well his plan backfired swiftly. After he was freed from the attic and went straight in for the kill, things went array. His hands were wrapped around your neck, he could-should see the life leaving your eyes, but instead he was met with Sukuna’s gaze. Belphie thought he planned this right, he made sure that he didn’t give you enough time to manifest him or to use your curse techniques, so how was this-

“You think I don’t recognize the look of bloodlust, you spoiled child? You were foolish enough to believe that you could get rid of me this easily like the brat?!”, and he was sent flying across the room. How was this happening, this wasn’t suppose to happen!-

“As much as I would like to see them die, they’re useful to me for the time being. Once they are of no use anymore, the only one who will be relishing in their demise is me. They’ll be dying by my hand, not by some weakened child.”

Those words still resonated with him still to this day. Honestly, the whole incident did. No matter how many times he tried to convince himself that you forgiven him and want to build a real bond together, his mind refused to erase that horrid memory, and he deserved it. When Belphie remembers back to that day, he remembers the horrified and heart breaking looks on his brothers’ faces, the way that your eyes show how betrayed and petrified, and how you were gasping out begging him to stop, before he comes out and puts everyone in danger

He felt disgusting, guilty, mortified, regretful, a disappointment. Those feelings only escalated after having them explain the truth to him, both about yourself and being a descendent of his dead sister. He could see how much you touched his family, and you extended that kindness to him too, and he just exploited it

He stayed far away from you for a very long time. He didn’t try to approach you at all, only staying in the planetarium or even the attic, to avoid crossing paths with you. He didn’t deserve to make a connection with you like his older brothers, as much as he wanted to. He was remorseful, it wasn’t because of the whole Lilith revelation, but because you really didn’t deserve that happening to you

You made the first move to make amends, to have a fresh start, and he couldn’t have been more grateful, albeit nervous. He was so terrified of messing things up again, but you were there to help keep him grounded. “I won’t lie to say that what you did was okay, but I’m willing to move on from it. You aren’t completely forgiven, but we can work towards fixing things, together.”

Belphie was shaken by Sukuna’s words, but he wasn’t necessarily scared of him. In fact, he would personally find a way to cast him out of your body and destroy him permanently as the perfect apology and thank you gift; the thank you for reuniting him with his family, and for helping them develop healthy relationships with one another. They weren’t as separate as before, and it made him feel so warm every time he thought about it

Not that he would ever say that to anyone

You both spent time together either napping or plotting for future LYS (Lucifer You Suck) pranks. And since Belphie is pretty good with magic himself, he would be teaching you some new spells or curses that you could use to protect yourself, even against the curse inside you

Belphie will make sure to not make another huge mistake when it comes to you ever again. He’ll have his little slip ups, but you were never put into harms way because of them. He doesn’t want to sabatoge this bond, and he wants you to truly be happy spending time with him. He’s not the greatest role model (obviously) and may be tight lipped about how he feels most of the time, but he really does have your best interests at heart

[flowerflamestars]

i remember that you once said something about privateer nesta could you elaborate? please? *shrek cat eyes*

WHO TOLD YOU I AM COMPLETELY VULNERABLE TO THE CAT EYES??

okay, so admittedly I don't remember the context in which I said this?? But I still SUPER super love the idea

and it matches with what we'll call the Dream ACOTAR Extended Universe Plot, almost canon.

We begin with the final battle against Hybern. Tamlin dies, closing the loop of his tragic, misspent life. Amren stays dead, a magical being on to the next adventure.

Rhysand stays dead.

He functionally (magically) threw himself on a bomb, and took the whole blast. He's not the Cauldron- and no one man could repair what it once was, but he could contain the fatal, drastic implosion of an object that was meant to endure forever, fractured into more and more peices.

Why is this important?

Because it leaves a world where Feyre Archeron- twenty-ish, romantic hero, prop, prisoner- becomes High Lady in her own, true right.

(I don't think she's necessarily good at this job, because why would she be? It's not even her fault- Feyre has no idea about how faery politics work, no real tangible knowledge of her own inherited kingdom.)

But both the men who stole her and defined her and loved her and hurt her are dead.

And it not only sets her on a journey to become, on her own, an actual character in her own life, but it galvanizes the Archeron sisters.

Feyre's basically fucking comatose after the battle. Elain has been a mess this entire time, but after that last fight with Grayson, walking into the war and stabbing a king in the throat- she is as vital and herself as Nesta has seen her in years.

Nesta just watched her father die and felt nothing- and she hates herself for it. She and Elain had taken the head of the man who stole everything from them- and she doesn't have a single regret.

Feyre screamed until she could no longer- there's so much magic seething out her it hurts to look at-

There's a dark well inside herself that could rise. But why should Nesta let it? So what, if she doesn't mourn her father? He'd never cared about her and Elain- not when they were young, too busy and important to even speak to his own children. Not when they lost everything, and he'd tried one last time to sell them both into marriages to recoup the family loss. Not after, in the starving cold, no matter what she'd tried to force him into action.

Nesta had been mourning all along a human girls human life- what is an absent, neglectful, shitty in the most ordinary of ways human parent if not a part of that lost future?

Their sister owns a fucking country- their sister is, at this minute so hemmed in by her followers no one can see her, much less comfort her- there's a war camp falling apart around them- there's Nesta, Elain, and Azriel, unhurt, upright, alive.

(she does not let herself think that an hour before she'd been ready to die and thought it right, the ending the meant to be conclusion of her story. she does not think about how she'd wished Cassian healed beneath her hands and that he had healed, that she'd wept to learn she could do more than destroy.

that she'd still been weeping, her mouth bright with his blood, when he'd pulled away, dragged himself to Morrigan's waiting arms)

Nesta Archeron is alive. Her sisters are alive. They're free, and she'll be fucking damned if this all falls apart before Feyre can heal.

Nesta turns to Azriel and asks if he can take control of the legions.

She has no time for his blank, angry eyes- she knows he's hurt, he's mourning, he's lost- but she needs him. Cassian's...down. Rhys is dead. Feyre and Morrigan are not coming out of that tent.

And he just listens. Thoughtfully. Asks what Nesta intends to do.

And Nesta looks at Elain- soft, kind, gentle Elain who'd never once wavered now when life was on the line. Who hadn't cried a tear for their father, or for the man who'd kidnapped and then married their baby sister.

The danger wasn't over- and neither had the steel faded from Elain's spine.

Nesta tells Azriel she's going to find Keir.

Nesta isn't blind- she's walked the Hewn City, spoken to the eldest darkness. She was also at the joke of a Summit- Autumn wants new territory, Keir wants to rule Night. And here Night is, weakened, a lamb to slaughter.

Nesta's not going to lose again- she's not going to give these ancient, cruel lords another chance.

Elain grabbed her hand and squeezed- the one person, always, who Nesta never need explain herself to.

Aren't the High Fae technically Morrigan's Elain asked, a bare whisper as they walked through the camp.

It went without saying yes, but Nesta had never seen any indication they respected her enough to listen to her. She made a face, and Elain made one right back, rueful. She had eyes too, after all.

They're not going to listen to us in these clothes, Elain also told her.

She was right, of course. They were High Fae, and that mattered to those vile pricks, but they'd been outfitted for flight. She would do almost anything, actually, to be free of leather pants.

Which Elain, a gleam in her eye that Nesta was learning meant magic, dreamy and happy- led her precisely to a gold topped tent, stepped inside, bowed, and asked without a trace of hesitation if Helion Spellcleaver, Lord of Day, would perhaps do them the favor of loaning them some garments.

Solid gold eyes gleaming against blood and smoke tinged dark skin, beautiful, glorious Helion, smiled.

Day-white against Night- but also, Nesta knew, taking care with her crown of a braid, the splatter of blood left on her throat, her mouth, her cheeks like fine paint- white was the color of death.

Elain covered herself completely- shawl wrapped over her hair, tucked around her neck, breathing easier now, in human modesty- but hung from a golden belt that Helion, with the clear air of someone who knew something about seers, had found, metal hammered with stars and flames, was Truthteller, the long blade without a sheathe, black metal swallowing up light.

Keir was easy to find, and in fine form, surrounded by Darkbringers, who looped back behind the sisters the second they were close.

Nesta was not afraid- she'd thrown power into the sky and it had hurt. Not in depth, but because she was still holding on- it wanted out-it wanted to devour-

Elain dipped a flagrantly rude, swallow bob of a curtsey. Nesta didn't even bother- just let Keir hail them, royal family that they were. He liked the sound of his own voice, but he was also clever- they'd come here of their own volition and now they were trapped.

She could smell the reinforcements, the utter Autumn reek.

Nesta interrupted, and asked Keir to come and swear fealty to her sister.

It was never going to get the right answer, but it had to be said. It had to be heard.

She'd been right- they'd been right- Keir enjoyed the cruelty of getting close to Nesta, denying straight to her Archeron face that no, Rhysand's bloodline was ended. It was time, it was right, for the House of Truth to once more hold their throne.

He spoke his treason aloud, looming over Nesta- close enough to touch.

So Nesta did.

She'd willed Cassian alive and whole. It was so, so much easier to remember fire, death, drowning, to push and want the revolting man's destruction.

And when he fell, silvered fire that had filled his lungs spilling from his throat, Nesta did not flinch. She looked to the next lieutenant, a frankly indistinguishable golden haired pale-eyed blandly handsome man in black armor, and asked, if he, as the new commander of the Darkbringers, would like to give a different answer.

He did.

Azriel met them halfway back to Feyre, grim mouth flickering for a second at the sight of Elain, before looking, stone-faced, at Nesta beside her, leading a crowd of the highest ranked Night Court faeries she could find.

Keir? He asked.

Dead, Elain answered, and that was that.

The Shadowsinger fell in step with the Seer, a threatening shadow to two pale beacons.

It was Azriel who actually went inside the tent. Who said what needed to said, what made Morrigan splutter loudly enough to be heard outside, before she burst out the tent in a whorl of hair, before blanching.

Nesta had just enough control not to roll her eyes. They come to swear fealty.

And Morrigan, chewing her lip with all the dignity of a child- Elain and Nesta had been trained out of such gestures at eight, what did she think was happening here? - shook her head. She's not well, it can wait.

No, Azriel said, from behind her, it can't.

He was supporting what looked like the entirety of Feyre's weight. Dead-white, blue eyes a blaze, Feyre looked blearily out at all of them like she recognized no one.

Elain, treasure that she was, came forward to take her sister's other hand, whispering both condolence and explanation.

And so the High Houses of Night knelt in battlefield mud, and swore eternal loyalty to the youngest Archeron.

It was only after they were gone that Nesta hugged her sister- hard enough Feyre protested, a fresh batch of tears soaking Nesta's shoulder even before Elain joined them.

It's Azriel, voice a little less like a phantom, who tells Feyre they're handling things. That if she wants to rest more, that's fine.

She was so clearly shattered- Nesta half wondered how much of that Azriel can literally feel/hear with his shadow...things.

Feyre protests that there's things to do- Feyre makes it halfway through a sentence about plans before she says Rhysand's name like he's still alive and collapses in on herself like a wave crashing.

Nesta and Elain tuck Feyre back into the blanket pile. Nesta manages to kiss her forehead before Morrigan is there, hugging Feyre putting herself bodily between the sisters.

They leave, and outside, Azriel is waiting.

To hand Nesta a gaudy, enormous platinum ring. The seal of the Night Court- Nesta recognizes it from shipping manifests, but she'd never actually seen it as an adult. Here, as a faery.

Her thoughts on Azriel's powers hold true, as he answers the dismay: Rhys only used it when he had to. It had passed between the whole Court of Dreams hands, there had not been a vizier, a lord of stars, since the time of Rhysand's father.

Nesta puts on the hideous ring, barely flinching at the brush of magic, it resizing to her hand.

Elain grasps her other, squeezing, and asks Azriel who is next.

They work ceaselessly, pausing only to sleep. Azriel, Nesta is quite sure, isn't sleeping at all- until she goes looking for him with a question and finds him finally, finally out cold, face tucked in Lucien Vanserra's neck.

In silence and gestures, they come to something of an agreement- and when the Night Court comes to the table to talk peace, it's with Lucien. Jurian, who Nesta immediately liked.

By the time they return to the North, there is not a Lord one who does not know the names and nightmarish qualities of all three Archeron sisters.

Feyre mourns, and learns to govern slow. Cassian goes back to Illyria and does not return for a long, long time. Morrigan becomes Feyre's second- Nesta laughs, not altogether kind, when Lucien tells her this. No one has been able to answer her as to why, if Morrigan is so powerful, why did she not fight? what does she actually do?

What answers to her questions she does find are appalling. Why does Winter block our every turn? oh, Rhysand killed more than a dozen children. Why is Summer refusing our trade? Well, Rhysand stole their ancestral pride. Why is the Hewn City so wrathful at even the slightest form of intervention? Because Rhysand had left Keir to rule alone.

Nesta doesn't want to rule the fucking court. She thinks she could leave all of these politicians to rot- but she won't let Feyre misstep her way to death, shouldering a burden of her dead mate.

There's nothing they can give Winter but apology and so that's what Nesta does. On her knees, in a gilded palace of ice, stars caught in her hair and the seal on her. Kallias, bright and young, seems to know something about inherited problems- he does not ever forget, but he forgives, at least, the Archerons.

Summer is more complicated- but Nesta does what she can. Gives them every melted, ruined piece of the Book. Offers reparations for the next millennia. Ends up paying for what she is appalled and embarrassed to learn is a two hundred year old debt for a building the head of the Night Court's armed forces- Cassian, fucking Cassian the ghost haunting Nesta- had destroyed. During a brawl. At a solstice party.

She deals only with Cressieda, and they come to understand each other very well.

Nesta was not raised for politics and bullshit- her mother wanted her to marry a crown, but Nesta wanted the family empire. Trade. The Archeron legacy, denied to a girl. She likes Summer more than any place in Prythian, and she doesn't hide that. She relearns old lessons of tide and routes in secret, before Cressieda reveals that of course, she knows who the Archerons were.

It goes well, until Morrigan finds out what she's been doing, and tells Feyre.

The youngest Archeron had been doing better. Morrigan has been right by her side, through everything. Cassian is in Illyria, and Feyre understands why, writing him letters. She writes letters to Rhys too, if only to have a way to direct the words.

Azriel, spectral and busy she sees the least of, but Feyre never doubts his presence, keeping her safe. Elain comes, drags her out into sunlight, brings Lucien and it makes Feyre happy to see them together. Nesta comes too, with them both and alone, with papers from Feyre to sign, with affection sharp-edged but true.

Feyre knows she owes them all more than can be said- she's not stupid, she knows they're keeping Night together. That slowly those responsibilities will fall to her, when she's ready.

She does not think about how much of those responsibilities is cleaning up the tangled mess of betrayal Rhysand left behind. In her head, there is only Rhys- beloved and shadowed, kind and tortured.

Until Morrigan tells her that it's been acknowledged, in public, by Night, that Rhysand was a thief, and a murder of children.

Feyre loses her shit.

Rhysand had done what he had to. Who was Nesta, to say such things? She'd always hated Rhys. Rhys had always hated her, maybe he was right- the children. Rhys had mourned them in screaming nightmares, but he hadn't hurt them-

(Feyre does not stop to think it strange, that Rhys could have nightmares of memories not his own. That he might have fractured just a bit, under Amarantha. That the Red Lady had no daemati- that was why she'd kept Rhys all along.)

The fight is as ugly as can be imagined. And what proceeds is of course, worse. Feyre says terrible things she will ultimately regret and apologize for, but what becomes clear is that Morrigan thinks that Nesta means to hold power forever.

That she's taken advantage.

And Cassian, called home by rage, believes her.

That is, more than her ungrateful sister, more than the ongoing weight of cleaning up after a man she despised for good reason, the end of Nesta Archeron's Night Court career.

She'd thought she loved him- she'd been willing to die with him- but they'd lived. This was the life, the next life, and what did he think of her? That Nesta was a power hungry snob. That she was paying too much heed to politics.

That Nesta belonged quietly at home. That she should have learned to fight somewhere along that way- a point so convoluted it made Lucien laugh- that she hadn't learned anything that mattered.

That she had no right to kill Keir, because it had hurt Morrigan.

Had he ever, Nesta would wonder later, even liked her? Enjoyed anything about her but for that magical tether, telling him he was blessed with something special?

Nesta was something special, and she knew it.

And so she returned the ring to Azriel, packed up her possessions, and left.

First to Day, where Elain had bought a house. Fury and tears both met the explanation of what happened- fury and tears that turned to getting inadvisably drunk in sunlight, when Lucien and Azriel snuck away to join them.

For the first time in Nesta's adult life, she had no obligations. Magic, money, freedom- the whole world was out there.

She stopped wearing black. Learned pants where actually lovely, when they fit correctly and weren't made of leather. Learned Azriel could laugh, and Lucien was as clever as she'd always thought.

She read books, she ate fruit, she took Helion up on several of his more lascivious offers.

She thought of Cassian, and it ached, but not enough to go backward.

Elain's house was by the sea, right on the water. The scent of salt reminded Nesta of Summer- but also of her oldest, most secret dreams. The warehouses of goods, like mysteries to solve. The account books she stole, learning by candlelight the trade in her blood.

Ten years after the war, Nesta bought a ship.

She set out to be a merchant, use what she knew, but what happened was this: Nesta Archeron did not care anymore for rules. And so when she came upon Hybernian remnants-for they were an island kingdom, even more one with the water than Prythian- pillaging a Summer town, she destroyed them.

She stole their treasure, gave much of it back to the people.

Found, unexpected, that she had much more of a taste for marauding than she would have expected. There was still trade of course- proft made and shared- but Summer needed someone willing to do some destroying out on the sea.

Twelve years after the war, Nesta Archeron became a privateer under the Summer flag, pearls in her hair and a true smile on her lips.

Things grew, as all things do. Feyre wrestled herself the reins of government, stymied by the councils Nesta and Azriel set up as much as she often was by Azriel himself out of truly petulant action. Morrigan remained second, golden blades bright as her gowns within reach. Cassian became a sort of seneschal, reigning over Illyria in Feyre's name cold and alone as the wind through the mountains.

(Feyre thought he might never get over the war, but Azriel knew the truth.)

Elain took herself wherever the future led, a sort of mediator and councilor, walking in all Courts- but always back to home, that isolated green, green cove, where Nesta would land.

When war came again, there was no great Lordly alliance, no cut-throat summit. There was a fleet of ships whose sails where edged in purple, whose announcement across the water was silver fire, whose accompaniment were monsters of old.

Violence did not touch Prythians human shore, because Nesta Archeron did not let it.

She was death on the tide, and she remembered what shores had borne her.

She had a home in Summer, a place in Day, her family across the continent- she had her ships, full of faeries from every walk of life, who wanted as she did the freedom as much as the profit, the endless, endless blue, where sea meets sky.

It was eternity, and the Archeron sisters, free, had made it their own.

[primergon]

I love what you did with the farmer one! What about the autobots having a charge who does bull riding? (Bull riding is different than bronc riding by, the bulls have more power instead of being agile, and the reason we have bull fighters, rodeo clowns, Is because bulls will try to kill you when they back you off, just a short knowledge point!)

A/N: Hi ! Sorry for the very late response, things have been very busy for me and i apologize for not announcing my hiatus sooner. This is a very interesting concept and as someone who isn’t familiar with the sport I had fun writing this ask :) hope you enjoy it xx You only need to reassure OPTIMUS once, yet the entire time you can tell he was worried. From the way, he was always hovering not too far from you to the way he was staring at the bull the entire time. He was reluctant to step away, even after you told him his presence may scare the animal. Eventually, he seated himself next to his teammates, watching from a good distance away as you haul yourself up on top of the bull. When the pen door swung open, Optimus nearly jolted out of his spot to reach out for you. Yet, he remained half seated, watching in both awe and concern as you bucked violently forwards. In the end, he praised you for how brave you are and makes sure you're okay - even after you've told him you were. The old bot was immediately against the idea of letting you anywhere near such an aggressive sport, especially after knowing that it could kill you. Even after you assured RATCHET that it was completely safe when done properly, he still didn't give in. He had given the pen a side-eye, warily glancing back at the bull and you. He demanded a thorough explanation of the rules and regulations; how it's going to work and how to ensure your safety. Bulkhead and Smokescreen had to keep talking to him to ensure he doesn't suddenly jump out of his seat to stop you. As predicted, the moment you started, he was immediately protesting, but after seeing how good you are with the sport he settled once again back onto his seat. Grumbling the whole time to himself even if he did admire how brave you were. The Femme isn't much of a thrill-seeker, but ARCEE understood why you'd want to play the sport. She had helped you set up for the day, asking questions about the types of equipment and making witty quips as you go along. At one point you found her staring sadly at the bull, you thought it was because she felt sorry for it being caged up like that. Yet after you reassured her that the animal is in good hands, she admitted that the horns reminded her of someone once dear to her, and the sight made her feel somewhat nostalgic. She was cheering for you the moment you nearly leaped into the air, watching you as if she's ready to break your fall if there's ever the need to. You knew BULKHEAD liked watching extreme sports. You knew he and Miko would stay up all night watching derby races and WWE fights. The idea of seeing you participate in one is a different story altogether, and the mother hen in him immediately manifested into the form of hovering. He's always never too far from you, only an arm's length away to ask you if you're sure for the hundredth time. For a bot his size, you caught him flinching when the bull kicked the gates, and it took you awhile to reassure the gentle giant that things will be fine. In the end, he and Miko were the ones applauding the loudest for you, and it was enough to make you run up to them for a hug. SMOKESCREEN is more curious than afraid, even if it did take him a while to understand the sport. You had to explain to him everything from the basics, feeding into his multitude of eager questions. He wasn't that concerned about your safety, considering that he's more invested in seeing how the sport works. He did however flinch a few times towards you when he thought you were going to fly off the bull's back, but throughout the ride, he was seated not far from the pen. A cowboy hat that's too small for him, perched on top of his head. You nearly forgot how much BUMBLEBEE had taken after Optimus until he gave you an all-to-familiar look of concern. His door wings immediately fell onto his sides after you showed him one of the videos from your most recent rides, and a series of panicked beeps was enough to tell you that he's against it. It took some convincing, through Smokescreen and Bulkhead, but afterward, he was always there to accompany you there when you're about to go for a ride. Already helping you unload the equipment, he was there so often that the bull is no longer anxious around him, and you find it endearing how he also seemed to be concerned about the animal just as much as you. After you explained the sport to WHEELJACK, the mech had let out a delighted laugh, going on about how humans are addicted to flirting with danger. Luckily, he's no different, and that's maybe why he's so fascinated with watching you ride. He would be leaning by the side of a tree not far away, whistling and clapping every once in a while. For someone who had never played the sport, he had even given you some advice. You were reluctant to follow in the beginning, but then you found that as insufferable he could be, he was almost always right. He would help you clean up and feed the bull after, commenting on how it might just be his favorite Earth animal.

If there was one word to describe ULTRA MAGNUS towards all of this is indifferent. He was worried, considering that you were his charge and this sport could get you killed, yet he didn’t find it amusing and couldn’t understand why you’d enjoy it. He didn’t want to stop you, but he didn’t want to leave you unsupervised either. Therefore he requests to always be around whenever you ride, and even if he would pay attention in the first five minutes, you’d always see him glossing over some datapads somewhere in the middle. It would be like having a mom who waits for you after soccer practice, or in this case, bull riding. In the end he’d pass your bag to you and wait as you change into some clean clothes, always nagging at you to clean the smudges of dirt and mud across your face before asking you if you’re hurt. The gesture, as endearing as the second in command could get.

[five-rivers]

Is there any way we could possibly convince you to write more of the Eldritch!Danny au? As it's own phanfic? This, of course, would only be done once you are under considerably less stress, and can comfortably put the effort into that, if there ever could be such a time whilst writing Mortified and Stars Aligned. It could even wait until one or both of those has reached a point that you deem them Completed™. I'm just immediately part of Sam's Cult XD

It’s been a bit, and this is kind of random, but...

.

Clockwork’s avatar pressed the food to Danny’s lips, and he bit down, hard.  Juices dribbled down his chin as the food squirmed.  He moaned in something like relief as the pressure in the venom sacs in the roof of his mouth lessened.  He ate.

He kept Dreaming of himself with fangs and venom. Did that mean something?

A cold pressure under his chin forced him to look up.  Clockwork’s avatar inserted another piece of food into Danny’s mouth.  

Of course, it means something, it said. You are such a generous soul that you must give of yourself before you can even do something as basic and vital as eat.

Something about that didn’t sound right, but Danny wasn’t in a position to argue, not when he found himself so hungry.

Clockwork’s avatar fussed over him, feeding him more and more, past the point of mere satiation to the point where he felt bloated and slug-like.  He wanted to curl up and sleep real sleep.  The image of a caterpillar who, having gorged itself, began to form a cocoon, flittered across his mind.  

You are a long way from metamorphosis yet, dear one, said Clockwork’s avatar.  Come.  I have something for you.  

Danny followed the tug of the chained collar around his neck, blinking blearily, his footsteps just a little unsteady.  

The careful direction of the chain led him to a small table cluttered with trinkets.  Clockwork’s avatar leaned down to press its cheek against the crown of Danny’s head.  Its cloak fell to either side of Danny, cutting off his field of view to the left and right, leaving him with only the table and the wall behind it.  

A gift, said Clockwork’s avatar.

“Why?” asked Danny.  It felt odd to speak here, and much more so in English, but he was still learning how to use his True Voice.  

I wanted to give you something myself, before we celebrate your birthday.  

“My birthday is ages away,” said Danny.  

From some perspectives, perhaps.  But we missed so many of yours.  We must make them up before the next one.  

There was something ominous there, but Danny just leaned into the avatar’s touch, unwilling to devote himself to interpreting omens.  

Pick one, said Clockwork’s avatar, pick wisely.  Gifts received in the Dream become part of you.

Danny nodded and opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) to look at the trinkets—no, the gifts—again.  Gifts that, like all good gifts, came with strings attached.  

There was something off about that thought.

But it didn’t matter.  It wasn’t as if he could refuse a gift.  

He reached out.  

.

He picked the beaded pectoral necklace.  Mostly because he was curious to see how it went on, what with the collar around his neck and all.  Yes, this was the Dream, and multiple things could exist in the same place at the same time, but usually there was an… internal consistency, of sorts.

It turned out the answer was that the necklace merged with the bottom edge of the collar, which felt weird, but it was fine, because both were manifestations of Clockwork’s Love.  

The unfamiliar weight of it hung strangely off his shoulders, especially given the counterweight that hung down his back, and forced him to alter his posture.  He stood straight and… Well.  Not tall. But to his full height.  

Clockwork’s ticking sounded pleased.  An echo of something where Danny’s heart once was agreed with that assessment.  

When he left the Dream and went on with his life, it seemed as if not much had changed, except—

He felt more confident.  More coordinated.  He didn’t stutter as much.  People listened to him more.  

Even Sam and Tucker remarked on it.  

Only a few days later, Clockwork called him back, reeling him into the deep Dream by the chain attached to his collar.  He had another gift for Danny.  A bracelet.  Its weight joined that of the necklace.

Since you seemed to enjoy this so much, said the avatar, running its fingers over the faience beads.  

And so it went.  

Every few days, Clockwork would call him back and give him some new little adornment.  A ring.  A jeweled comb.  An anklet. A brooch.  A belt.  Each gift seemed to smooth away some almost imperceptible flaw in his waking self, seemed to draw more eyes to him, more attention, more praise.  People who would never give him the time of day before actually sought out his company.

He wondered.  Each thing he was given was a display of wealth.  Did that come across, somehow?  Or was it simply gravity, the mass of his presence pulling in their regard?

The improvements weren’t just in his human life. The others were easier to fight, to distract and ward away.  Their blows did not hurt nearly as much, nor did their ‘appearances’ distress him as much as they once had.  

He noticed, too, the weight of what he wore in the Dream.  Each ring, each bauble, made it easier for him to sink into the depths, made it harder for him to reach the surface.  

Sometimes, after a return, he would like on the floor in his room, panting.

But he was growing stronger, too, and he hoped—

It didn’t matter what he’d hoped.  

He could no longer reach the waking world. He tried seven times before the chain, vibrating with amusement, pulled him back to Clockwork.  

We must celebrate, said Clockwork’s avatar, pulling a sort of woven metal sleeve over Danny’s right hand.  It hooked neatly onto the rings on each of his fingers.  

“Why?” asked Danny, barely holding himself back from falling to pieces.  He had a responsibility to Amity Park.  Not to mention, he wanted to live there with his friends and family.  

Because it is a wonderful milestone, that you are too powerful to reach that place on your own.  The avatar placed a crown of knotted metal on Danny’s head.  This is what a cult is for, my little gem.  To pull you up.  

“What if…” said Danny, “I get too… heavy to be pulled up?”  

Another milestone.  

.

Except, no, Danny’s hand still hovered over the table, undecided.  He let it fall back to his side and blinked, shaking his head to clear it of the vision that had just overtaken him.  

Did it show what would be, what might have been? Or merely a possibility?  

Reality splintered.

.

He put his hand down on a stack of folded white cloth, jostling the bells sewn to the hems.  He didn’t actually know what it was, but it seemed harmless, and the fabric was soft.  

It turned out that the cloth was a set of folded veils.  The bells were weights, to make them hang properly.  

Clockwork’s avatar helped him put them on in front of a mirror, since Danny had never worn anything like them before.  The cloth was thin, diaphanous gauze.  Where the veils touched the clothing he was already wearing, it whispered away, like it never was.  In some places, mostly on his shoulders and back, for some reason, the veils merged smoothly, seamlessly, with his skin.  It was an odd sensation, made more so by the fact that his nerve endings seemed to extend partway into the cloth.  

Although, that might not be by design, but because Danny expected it.  This was the Dream, after all.  

Once all the veils were in place, the only pieces of his body exposed were his hands and bare feet.  It was strange, looking at himself in the mirror through the sheer veils over his face and head.  He almost looked like a ghost.  

It was… it was kind of embarrassing, being dressed like this.  The veils were the only things he was wearing, and even with all their frothy layers, he could make out the silhouette of his body beneath them.  

He spun in place, just enough to hear the bells ring with high, clear tones.  Like this, the subtle embroidery on the veils looked like feathers.  

When he woke again, normal clothes felt rough and coarse against his skin in comparison.  He gritted his teeth and bore it.  He couldn’t very well walk to school in the nude.

“Did something happen last night?” asked Sam, surveying Danny up and down.  

“Um,” said Danny, “yes, but why?”

“You look…”

“Mysterious,” said Tucker.  

“Ethereal,” decided Sam.  “But also…”  She hummed. “Untouchable, maybe?  I don’t know.”

Danny explained what had happened.  

It was in the course of just messing around that they found another effect.  

“Dude,” said Tucker, as Danny sat on his shoulders, “did you lose weight or something?”

“No?” said Danny, turning away from his sticky-note masterpiece on the classroom ceiling.  “At least, I don’t think so.”

“You just seem a lot lighter than the last time we did this.”

They weighed him later, at Sam’s house.  He was.  

The next time he visited the dream, there were changes.  One, the sensation in the cloth had extended.  He could feel almost all the way to the ends of some of the shorter veils. Two, his form beneath the veils was less distinct.  Softer. When he put his hand underneath them to check, his body felt softer, too.  Three, he was glowing.  

Of course, said Clockwork’s avatar, stroking its cold hand down his back in a way that made all of his new nerve endings overload.  As the illusion fades, the truth may shine.  

It did not elaborate, no matter how Danny pressed him.  It did, however, pet him until he was left as little more than a pleasantly chirping puddle of veils and feathers on Clockwork’s floor.  

He did not note the significance of the feathers until his next visit to the Dream, whereupon some of his veils had become wings, bells still attached and ringing with every motion.  He spread them out and flew.  

Flying was even better than he had imagined. Never before had he known such joy.

The changes continued, the form he wore in the waking world becoming progressively more and more alien to him, more grating and uncomfortable.  

“That only makes sense,” said Sam.  “You’re more than us.  Being constrained like this can’t be good for you.”

Tucker nodded in agreement.  “I mean, look at all of this.”

Danny looked around the cafeteria, catching several worshipful gazes.  

“You don’t belong in a cage like this.”

“I want to be able to help,” said Danny.  It had become easier, in some ways.  It was as hard as ever to fight the others, but human aggression stopped dead in Danny’s presence.  

“You’ll still be able to,” said Sam.  “But Tucker’s right, you should be trapped here. You should in a high place… on a pedestal.  Somewhere to give us hope.  Somewhere we can look up to.”

He stood in front of Clockwork’s mirror again. There was a suggestion of a human body beneath the wings, but nothing more than that.  Soon, even that would be gone.  

Even as he thought it, he let his wings shift, forming a more spherical shape.  The light at his center became blindingly bright, but Danny could still see the chains of Love attached to it that kept him grounded.  

One of those chains pulled taught as Clockwork summoned him, not even bothering with the avatar this time.  This time, Danny would be able to talk to Clockwork directly, and it would be fine, because Danny had shed that illusion of humanity and become more like Clockwork.

He entered Clockwork’s direct presence and—

.

Danny reeled as the vision simply stopped being something his mind could interpret.  He felt a part of what he called his sanity crumble.  

Perhaps…  Perhaps not that one.  Instead…

.

He chose the featureless white mask, lifting it with both hands.  It was surprisingly heavy.

Clockwork’s avatar reached out, the sleeves of its robes whispering past Danny’s ears.  Let me help you put that on, it said.  It took the mask and flipped it over, brushing the broad, white satin ribbon out of the way with its thumbs.  

Before Danny could think to protest, before he could decide if he wanted to protest, the mask was pressed against his face.

The soft inner lining fit perfectly snug against his features.   Perfectly enough that it forced his eyelids and lips closed.  The bottom edge of the mask cupped his jaw, preventing him from opening his mouth.  

He could not see, with the mask on. Somehow, this surprised him.  Part of him had expected to supernaturally be able to see through the mask.  

This was inconvenient.  On the other hand, not being forced to see the Dream and its denizens could be a boon in and of itself.  

Clockwork’s avatar finished tying the ribbon.  When you wear this, only those who know you will know you.  And only those who you keep in place of your may have their knowledge progress.  

Danny tested his ability to speak, first with human words and then with his True Voice.  The best he could manage was a sort of hum.  

I know you best of all.  One cannot progress past completion.  Remember, those who Love you will understand you, even without words.  You will be allowed to remove the mask if it pleases you.  

Danny nodded to show he understood, the weight of the mask making the motion more energetic than usual.  

It took Danny time to learn how to navigate the Dream blind.  The Dream was, well, Dream.  It did not follow the usual rules of object permanence.  Things Danny could not directly perceive existed only at the whims of others.  While he was with Clockwork, he could have faith that things would stay mostly stable, but once he left, his world shrunk to echoes and what lay against his skin.

But when he did finally make it home and opened his eyes, he was able to fully understand what the mask gave him.  

He could not see the nightmares and madness lurking just under reality.  His sight was human.  He turned to his mirror and saw not a monster, but simply his physical body.  

He found himself weeping in relief.  It had been so hard.  Even if it was an illusion bought by ignorance, for the first time in far too long, he felt safe, no longer exposed.  

Whether or not it pleased him, he might never take the mask off.  

He walked to Jazz’s room to tell her the good news, only to discover he could not speak.  

After some experimentation, Danny and Jazz determined that, when he wore the mask, his speech was as constrained in the real world as it was in the Dream.  If he wanted to talk, he had to slip into the Dream to take it off.  

It was inconvenient, but still.  A perfectly hidden identity and relief from seeing were more than worth inconvenience.  

With the mask on, he almost felt human again.

Before the school day began, he paused in the bathroom and braced himself.  He had gotten away with being quiet at home, but at school, teachers would require him to answer questions.  

He stepped into the Dream and reached up to untie the knot at the back of his head.  It would not come loose.  Danny pulled harder.  

If it pleased him.  

Well, it didn’t please him to be exposed in school.  Beyond that… Danny suspected that Clockwork also had a hand in when he was allowed to remove the mask.  

A few weeks later, the school psychiatrist diagnosed him with selective mutism.  

“It almost makes sense,” claimed Tucker, gesturing at Danny’s ceiling, “if you think of it like a parent keeping their kid safe on the internet.  Like, you don’t want their identity exposed, so you keep them from giving away personal information or talking to strangers.”

“That,” said Sam, poking Danny’s cheek, “or he wants your cute little face all to himself.  What do you even look like in the Dream?”

“Like me,” said Danny.  He raised a hand to touch his face.  “I don’t know what I look like with the mask on.”  The words came surprisingly easily.  Before the mask, he’d worried that he’d eventually be unable to speak English, what with how difficult it was becoming to translate his thoughts to sounds.

Later that day, there was an incident.  Danny couldn’t help.  He couldn’t see.  

(It was, however, very clear that the others could see him.)

(He couldn’t help but feel guilty.)

That night, Clockwork pulled him into the Dream.

There is someone I want you to meet, said Clockwork’s avatar as its fingers untied the mask.  

“Who?” asked Danny as the mask came away.  He nearly forgot his question as he once again took in Clockwork’s appearance.  He had forgotten how beautiful it was here.  Tears rolled down his face.  

Your brother, said the avatar, gently leading Danny forward.  I think you will get along.  You both like masks.  

It took a few minutes for Danny to distinguish this new presence from Clockwork’s, but once he did, the name came easily to his mind.  This was Nocturne, the Dream Eater.

“Why is your mask different from mine?” asked Danny, because he couldn’t make a good first impression to save his life.  

The mouth and eyes on Nocturne’s mask turned upward in humor.  It plucked Danny’s mask from the hands of Clockwork’s avatar, and, to Danny’s simultaneous horror and delight, Danny discovered that he could feel Nocturne’s claws on the mask as if they were on his face instead.  

That is because it is your face, said Nocturne, the one you show the world.  Why wouldn’t you feel it when it is touched?  When it is damaged?  Nocturne ran his fingers down across the space where eye holes would have been in an ordinary mask, and Danny found himself forced to blink.  For the other, it is because you are a child.  I see and speak for myself.  A child sees the world through their parent’s eyes.  A child has no voice, but their parent speaks for them.  

��Will it change when I get older?” asked Danny.

Nocturne laughed.  You will not grow older.  He moved forward suddenly, pressing the mask to Danny’s face, and putting one of his other hands against the back of Danny’s head.  You will always be the youngest of us.  The most… Human.

.

Is something wrong? asked Clockwork’s avatar.

“No,” said Danny, quickly.  “It’s just hard to decide.”

You could have them all, it said, if it is so difficult.  

Danny shook his head.  “No, I just need more time.”

Maybe if Danny were human, this would be about getting the best deal, choosing the gift with the lowest price, but he wasn’t, and it wasn’t.  This was about choosing the price he wanted to pay.  

It surprised him, how much he wanted to pay some of them.  

.

The set of bracelets clinked merrily when Danny touched them.  They were four bands, each about two inches wide and a couple millimeters thick.  The metal they were made of was smooth on the outside, but on the insides, they had the same fractal patterns as the collar.

The manacles are a good choice, said Clockwork’s avatar, approvingly.  

Manacles.

Not bracelets.  

Unfortunately, he didn’t think he was allowed to change his mind.  

The manacles went around his wrists and ankles, each one closing with a snap.  When they shut, the metal they were made of swirled, the hinges and seams disappearing to present a flawless surface and the overall shape shifting so the inside laid flush against his skin.  

As soon as he closed the last one, and it finished altering itself, Danny felt a sharp pain through the center of his wrists and ankles, followed by a radiating numbness, as if a rod had been driven through each manacle, through each wrist and ankle, stopping only when it hit the other side.  But the numbness soon faded, and as he flexed his hands and feet, he didn’t feel anything like that.  

Still.  The message was clear.  The metal bands were not coming off.  

Clockwork’s avatar took one of Danny’s hands, and examined the band.  The metal, which had warmed against Danny’s skin, turned frigid under the avatar’s touch. For a moment, Danny’s vision blurred, and he saw a multitude of delicate chains leading from the manacle in every direction, connecting it to Clockwork, the other manacles, the collar around his neck and who knew what else.  His vision cleared.  A few long, silent minutes later, the avatar released him.  

They were made with much skill.  I hope you find them useful.  

Danny nodded.  

The manacles weren’t visible in the waking world, but Danny imagined he still felt them.  Especially when he was doing things with his hands or feet.  

‘Made with skill,’ indeed.  

Lots of skills.  Skills like drawing, writing, dancing, sign language.  He didn’t trip or stumble any more but moved smoothly.  It was interesting.  It didn’t feel like the skills belonged to someone else.  They were his, now, wherever they had originally come from.  He knew how to do each thing he was doing, and he did them intentionally.  

Still, his art (which he had always considered at least decent) was now scary good.  He’d also outplayed Ember on the piano a few days back, breaking her hold on the people who had been listening.  She’d been… rather upset about that.  

It was worth it.  

The string attached to the gift didn’t make itself known for a while.  One day, while he was drawing, his wrists burned cold, and he found himself drawing something more than what he’d originally intended.  The general subject was the same, but the skill put into it, the effort, was far, far greater.  He’d meant to doodle a little, maybe for ten or so minutes before he went to bed.  

Instead, it was hours later and if it wasn’t on the back of his French homework the drawing could have been hung in a museum.

It would have been the easiest thing in the world to imagine that he was being puppetted, controlled, that the manacles made him into a marionette, but that wasn’t what it felt like.  Instead, it felt as if something had flipped a switch inside him.  

He understood, then.  The manacles granted him skills, but he couldn’t always decide when to use them.  Or how much.

It wasn’t the last time it happened.  He’d suddenly be seized with the urge to do something.  Make use of some skill.  And whatever he did when those urges settled over him was inhumanly good.  Dangerously good.  As in, attracting the wrong kind of attention good.  

Those men in suits had been there for him, and he was quite certain that, if he had been perceptible to people foreign to Amity Park, they would have tried to take him.  Tried, being the operative word.  

More importantly, the mural he’d been compelled to paint on the side of the supermarket last night seemed to be attracting a following.  He’d attempted to keep elements of the others out of it, but he knew they somehow slipped through, slipped past his attention, and into his art.  

Sam and Tucker thought it was fine, though. He was inclined to trust them.  

He was glad that the manacles did not seem to infer any violent or deadly skills.  He wasn’t what he would do if they did and the urge to act turned into an urge to harm.  

The manacles turned cold.  

Perhaps he’d bake a cake.  Something for Sam and Tucker, as a thanks for putting up with him.

.

Danny slumped against Clockwork’s avatar, who held him without complaint.  These visions were mentally draining.  They would be, what with containing weeks compressed into seconds.  

Were they seconds?

.

The picture frame caught Danny’s eye.  It was a picture of him, as an infant, being held by Clockwork’s avatar, the great expanse of Clockwork himself in the background. Danny wasn’t quite sure he knew the picture was of himself.  Really, he’d been a generic-looking baby.  But he did know.  

He took the picture.  

Nothing happened.  He went home, woke up, and went about his normal life.  On occasion, he would look at the picture when he dropped into the Dream.  It warmed something in him.

It took him a month to realize he was aging backwards.  

To be fair, no one else seemed to notice, either, even though the change was much more rapid than normal forward aging.  Danny suspected they were being blocked from noticing.  

No, that wasn’t quite right.  They treated the age he appeared as the normal state of things, but they also treated him as if he were his apparent.  Something which had bothered him all last week, even if he didn’t realize why it was happening.  

It made it slightly more embarrassing that he himself had only noticed when he’d gone to retrieve a cup from the top shelf in the cabinet and couldn’t because he was too short.  

Sam, Tucker, and Jazz were confused when he brought it up to them.  They seemed to be under the impression that he’d always been a few years younger than Sam and Tucker.  That he’d been skipped forward a few years to be in the same class as them.  Danny had let the subject drop.  He had no idea how to even begin fixing this.  If it even could be fixed.  

Every day, as he got younger and younger, he also seemed to attract more and more attention.  Positive attention.  People would smile at him, tell him he was cute, give him presents out of nowhere. Danny couldn’t say he hated it.  

Until he got small enough for people to carry around. Which they did.  Frequently.  Without asking for permission.  Even this wasn’t so much of a problem.  

Until the cult.  

Until the knife.

Until the sacrifice.  

(And Clockwork was so thrilled to be able to raise him from infancy.)

.

He hadn’t decided yet.  

How could he decide?  They were amazing gifts.  Terrifying gifts.  Gifts he could not refuse.  Gifts he didn’t want to refuse, at least on some level.  

But this wasn’t about what he wanted.  It was about what he could live with.  

The pectoral gave him power and the respect of his peers but took away his ability to use those things in the defense of Amity. Although being powerful in the Dream was an idea that tickled at the shadows in Danny’s mind.

The veils gave him something he always wanted – flight – but at the cost of his humanity and individuality.  

The mask would protect him, let him hide and return to a mostly ordinary life, but he would lose the chance to face his new existence on his own terms as well as some of his autonomy.  Not to mention, his ability to actually help his people.

The manacles gave him skills he’d enjoy, but also made him a hazard for others.  

The picture frame…  Something twinged inside Danny’s chest… The picture frame gave him a new life with Clockwork, from the very beginning.  But he’d lose everything else and kickstart an unmanageable cult.

He couldn’t give up his friends, his family, his human life.  He couldn’t give up his ability to protect Amity.  Perhaps all those things would fade from importance in his mind as he became more and more other, but for now they were razor sharp.  That made his choice clear.  

“The manacles,” he mumbled to Clockwork’s avatar. He could work around the drawbacks (even if part of him resisted the notion that the drawbacks were drawbacks).

The avatar stroked Danny’s hair.  An excellent choice.

“How,” said Danny, trying to recollect his thoughts, “how do they work?”

Danny’s eyes fluttered as he saw the chains on the manacles again.  The way they felt on his skin was just like what he remembered.  

Skills that go unused are lost in the Dream. These find them and bring them to you, bind them to you, so they are never lost again.  Clockwork’s avatar plucked one of the chains.  It felt as if someone had traced their fingers possessively up one of his arms.  Although some of the chains have other functions.  It nuzzled Danny as something deep below in Clockwork’s depths began to chime.  One can never be too connected to those they Love.  

Danny woke in his bed and moaned.  His pillow was wet with drool.  Evidently, he had left his body behind this time.  That happened, on occasion, when he went to the Dream. He was never sure how he felt about it.

He raised his hands up above his head.  As expected, the manacles were not visible, but he did feel more… connected to the world around him.  Being connected was good.  It meant that what happened before wouldn’t happen again.  It meant that he wouldn’t be lost.  

He lowered his hands, clasping them over where his heart would have, should have been.  

The connections, though, were mostly to Clockwork, who was as inhuman as any of the others Danny protected Amity Park from. Should that bother him?  He thought of what Nocturne had said in the other timeline, the one where he had chosen the mask.  He’d known, already, that as much as Clockwork protected him, he also kept him in a state where he needed that protection.  Wasn’t it natural?  Wasn’t it the desire to keep Loved ones close?

His breath hitched as he briefly felt the soothing mental weight of Clockwork’s Love increase.  

It was fine, wasn’t it?

[urtrashwaifu]

League Mom P3 (Twice x Fem!Reader)

Part 3 to League Mom. There will definitely be some more parts to this, let me know how you think it should go in the notes! 

When you opened your eyes, Jin was sitting next to you. You immediately stood up and looked around. The League members were still around you. “So do you have a quirk?” The blue-haired man asked. “She’s quirkless.” Jin answered. Before he could get it all out you felt your shoulders sinking. “Manifest.” You word came out in a whisper, but it was enough to call her out. 

Your quirk was something you never shared with Jin. Opting for a normal life and an office job you told him you didn’t have a quirk. Mostly due to the power you possessed not being suitable for a hero. Ashamed you hit it. 

A black gel-like skin covered your body, your eyes being replaced with black orbs and your hands turning into claws (Like Venom) Jin turned and shuffled back a bit. “You said you didn’t have a quirk!” he yelled, nervous. You pulled it back and let your actual head poke out. “And you said you had a job.” His cheeks dusted pink, “this is my job!” 

The charred man walked out. “I hate to break up a good relationship fight but who are you?” he asked. “You first.” you said, tucking yourself back into your quirk. “Dabi.” “I’m y/n.” Dabi smiled and gestured to you. “Care to explain what this is?” he asked. 

You allowed the skin to disappear again and leave you in your human form. “It’s called uh, Manifest. Bulletproof skin that covers me entirely. I also have the teeth and the nails. Basically indestructible.” The league seemed intrigued.

“What’s the catch, there’s always a defect.” You shuffled, “If I stay like it too long it can take over for up to an hour. Basically don’t piss her off, she’s a lot meaner than me.” Everyone seemed to understand minus your boyfriend who was still in shock. 

“So what are we going to do with her?” Toga asked. You looked around the group. “Try to kill me and I’ll let her out.” Everyone seemed at a stand-still. “New recruit?” Toga piped up. “I don’t want to be responsible for hurting people.” you argued. “Just think on it.” Dabi said. “We just want to stop the Hero Commission. Trust me, they’re bad guys and get away with too much.” 

You nodded, “I work every day though.” Toga piped up at your side. “You can be the League mom!” she cheered. Something in you liked Toga, maybe it was Manifest or maybe it was the fact that she was adorable but something wanted to care for her. 

“So how do you guys eat.. You’re kind of wanted all over Japan.” you asked. “Sometimes we don’t, just a price we pay.” Dabi said finishing his drink. “Oh no, that won’t work.” Your mind was already devising a plan. 

Late that night, Jin and you finally arrived back at your apartment. It was a tense ride home until you both spoke up. “Why didn’t you tell me.” It was in unison. Maybe some things are better left unanswered. “Are you going to turn us in?” he asked. “No.” you answered immediately. “Why?” he sounded unsure but curious. “Someone has to feed you all, right?” He smiled at the admission. What was this going to turn into? 

[imhaitusncarnate]

Berserk and toxic masculinity

I believe that Berserk as a story is about maturing as a person and learning to deal with one’s emotions. Therapy, essentially, but in the form of an action manga. Throughout the story we see our main character Guts struggling with maintaining his humanity in the face of turning into a literal rage monster. This is paralleled with Griffith’s transformation into a demon 

But what does the demon transformation actually mean? Who lets this happen to them? I think this represents the easy solution to the struggle of life, which is learning to understand and process one’s emotions. In a difficult situation, too painful to handle, the sacrifice presents itself as the solution. 

Griffith’s journey as a character is presented as the antithesis to Guts’. Throughout the story we see Griffith repressing his emotions or trying to ignore them. This manifests itself as self harming or trying to feel dominant by having sex with women (classis toxic masculinity). Griffith’s transformation into Femto comes with this scene

The second image was all I could find but basically it is revealed that the behelits are actually tears. It is the pain of the person that summons the demons, and the sacrifice’s promise is that they will never again shed another tear. It is interesting to me that the first thing Griffith does after turning into femto is performatively severing his ties with Guts by raping Casca. It’s meant to insult him and make sure that Guts has no power over him. Guts was the only person Griffith ever loved, and therefore the only one who had power over him.

Now let’s look at Guts as a character. Unlike Griffith, he gradually opens up to people and learns to see himself as the sum of his experiences with other people. The cracks in the blade represent all of his interactions that have changed him as a person. The life long trauma of being raped by Donavan is finally processed when he reveals it to Casca and she accepts him. She had previously done the same when she opened up to him about her past

In a way this relationship is the most satisfying in this story because both of them find someone who accepts them for who they are. Casca is loved by Guts, she doesn’t have to be content with serving him with all her skill and strength like with Griffith, while getting no affection in return. She gets to be loved and appreciated by someone she is genuinely attracted to. And so does Guts.

Also, Guts sees Casca as a person and not an object to be used and then thrown away like Griffith does. The only time when he does see her like that, is when he is on the verge of becoming a monster himself.

So here we have a story in which big manly man dude matures and grows as a person and actually manages to be happy for once by opening up to someone he loves and respects and showing vulnerability. And that theme repeats itself. Right when he is on the verge of losing his humanity, opening up to people and forming relationships with them restores a certain amount of peace for him. That’s why he smiles again for the first time in like, a million chapters when he acquires his new companions

But the most significant thing about this story for me has to do with something Godo said to Guts.

“The thing about hatred is, it’s the place where people who can’t look sorrow in the eye without wavering run off too.”

So what is revenge, or the demonic sacrifice? It’s cowardice. Its’s fear. Fear of mourning, of grieving, of understanding and processing your pain. THAT is the temptation of the beast of darkness. Giving in to weakness. Guts wandered off for three years on murderman revenge quest because he wasn’t strong enough to deal with his grief, and it almost turned him into a monster. He hasn’t even fully processed what happened to him, or Griffith and his transformation. In fact, he seems to be avoiding to reconcile the demon that raped Casca in front of him and the man who was his best friend and truly loved and admired. He seems to have mentally separated the two, compartmentalized Griffith so he could process him. He wants to kill the monster but doesn’t know quite how to feel about the friend. That’s why when Griffith regains his human form, Guts “forgets” to kill him.

So in the end, Guts is the struggler, not because he fights day and night with abominations and horrors but because he chooses the path of maintaining his ability to feel and constantly trying to make the right choices moving forward, reexamining his priorities and dealing with his traumas. The story is telling us that the real manly man is the one who learns how to deal with his feelings. The struggle, is exactly that. And the other side is the side of cowardice, represented by those who sacrifice their humanity to the demons or let themselves become consumed by their dark side. 

So this story about muscle man big sword swoosh swoosh entrails flying everywhere is actually as story about feeeeeeeeeeeeeelings masquerading as a hypermasculine power fantasy. A girls’ manga disguised as a boy’s manga, as Kentauro Miura kinda implied in an interview. And this is why I fuckin love it. Berserk said go learn how to be a functional individual. So long strugglers. See you in therapy.

[shadowfae]

hiii! so a friend directed me here and i was wondering if u cld share abt how you found out you were godkin? only if youre comfy! because ive kinda had like. how do i word this. Vibes or Feels that kinda direct me towards the whole i might be a god of sorts kinda thing ? if you have resources and dont mind helping,, please direct me to them :D ~ @missing-crown

I want to start this essay off by saying flat out: wars have been fought, genocides have been committed, and empires have risen and fallen trying to answer the simple questions of “What is deification, and how do we incarnate and control it?”.

If you do not think you’re up the challenge of answering that question for yourself, even with years of study and slow training to take up the mantle of literally being the most powerful form of the Chosen One trope, then you’re probably in the wrong place. I say this as someone who is deific down to the blood and bone, as someone who has looked for other gods, and largely found very little in the way of anyone who understands anything like my experience. In this way, I am utterly alone, and I detest it, but if me penning these words gives someone else the gospel they need to explain themselves in a way I recognize as kin and kind, then I will do it.

But before I truly get into it, I will very nicely ask you to swing down to your local bookstore or library, pick up a copy of Seanan McGuire’s Middlegame, and take a walk down the improbable road with Roger and Dodger. The differences between you and I and the twins of the Doctrine of Ethos are simple and threefold: we cannot manifest, we are forbidden to use our powers the way they can use theirs, and there are (hopefully) no secret alchemist cults trying to murder us when we don’t play nice with their fucked-up science experiment.

Roger and Dodger are gods, true gods, gods I recognize in myself and in the godkin I have met who have spoken about themselves enough for me to understand that we are indeed talking about the same thing. Disappontingly, I see minor spirits far too often misunderstanding the nature of deification, or at least, understanding a version of it which is fundamentally antithetical to my experience. They may be deific; but either they suck at illustrating their point, or I am something far beyond deific, and I am again alone.

With that introduction, I need to talk about three things in order to answer your question. Two methods of deification and three definitions of ‘god’ in a hierarchy that only exists because humanity has not yet perfected their understanding of what is fundamentally and always beyond them. Two kinds of gods, honest gods, that split the difference between deific, divine, and legendary. Once you understand that, I can talk about godkin, and what it’s like to be me, and maybe by the end of it you will either recognize yourself in this, or run away screaming as most mortals will do.

The first method of deification is what I will call the incarnate gods- Roger and Dodger are good examples, so are most Legendary Pokémon, and Kaname Madoka from PMMM. They are laws of nature, concepts of creation, and calculations of cosmic proportions that also occasionally exist as people when they design to do so. They are not meant to be people, they are bad at it, I do not recommend being mortal and fucking around with them. You will simply die. I would not fuck with them outside of my own world that I created, where I get to be a form of incarnate god. You cannot overpower them: they ARE the rule, and they will change it if they need to. You can’t ruleslawyer gravity like a 2007 troll physics comic. An incarnate god of gravity will simply turn reality on its head and cause you to implode. If you are this type of god, I cannot help you. My understanding of them comes from being an Absol, and little more.

The second type are gods of domain and prowess: Zamorak (from RuneScape), Akemi Homura in both her awakened Witch and Devil forms (from PMMM), and yours truly. Quite a few of us, although not all of us, were originally mortal. Mortals amped up on so much power we are no longer bound by mortal laws. There is a difference between deification and simply stopping your clock to gain immortality. Mortal magic and deific magic are fundamentally different. Down to, I would argue, the atomic structure. Deific magic is pure in a way mortal magic could never be. To give a mortal more than a drop of deific magic heavily diffused in something safer and more understandable would be to quite literally burn them to ashes. Or rend them into a different, unspeakable form. Or turn them into living topiary. We are nothing if not unpredictable.

It’s the difference between a handful of dirt and pure neutron soup. Usually, in order to become a god like this, it requires the intervention of an incarnate god in some form. In Zamorak’s case, it was several Elder Artifacts and falling almost facefirst into halfway incarnating himself into the law of entropy. In Homura’s (at least in canon PMMM), she fucked with the laws of consequence and time to the point where she became the only expert they had on either of those and both laws decided to simply incarnate into her, and then she used that to cause problems. For me, it was having my entire magical and physical structure reorganized and rebuilt by an incarnate god of malevolent energy, and then I used what was a watered-down copy of the Devil of Devils’ glory to weave my own world into being where I was more or less the absolute arbiter of the laws of reality.

In PMMM Rebellion, when Homura fights Kyubey in that pretty lace dress of hers, that is approximately the magical prowess an awakened god of our capability will show casually. She has complete control over her domain (her labyrinth) and the reality of it, it takes no more than a glance or a thought to almost entirely reshuffle it. Her minions, who are little more than vaguely autonomous thoughts given some power of their own, may break that reality in whatever means necessary so long as it is to fulfill Homura’s current motives. Her domain falls apart when she does, and she is not separate from it; it is a consequence of her existence. Asking what came first, the god or their domain, is a simple chicken and egg question. It’s usually the domain, in our case; in the case of incarnate gods it’s a philosophical shrug and a nice headache.

You’ll notice I said awakened: that is because Zamorak is a great example of a god who isn’t entirely awakened. In canon, that is - the one I work with is awakened enough to fuck with his domain, which is what makes him quite useful to work with, although I do wonder what he’s getting out of me if not magical theory and utter adoration. Zamorak in canon is a god who ascribes himself to the philosophy of chaos and personal strife, completely unaware that he is incarnate enough not to change the law of entropy but to suggest things to it. He’s a god of chance masquerading as a god of personal improvement, and once he figures that out (and passes that knowledge onto Armadyl, who is his true light counterpart), he’s going to change the very way magic works. Guthix did everything in his power to try and become incarnate. He failed. Zamorak did it entirely inadvertently, and that’s the trick: the nature of deification is to follow the domain and influence it to your will. When laws of existence become people, they will do as people will, and people typically have ambition. Gods who are also people got that way for a reason. They always have a motive for doing so. It’s never accidental.

So, with a slightly more informed understanding of deification, or at least the versions of it that I understand, I can talk to you about me. What it’s like in the here and now, and how I knew. It took me years to get to this point, and I’ve much the way to go. I know more than I did when I was questioning; deeply more so. I don’t expect anyone questioning to be as sure as I am, and in ten years I will be far more sure of entirely different things, and if I’m lucky, this as well. But, let us begin again.

To be deific is to wake up in the middle of the night feeling like a black hole. You are vast, and you are dense, and the moment someone touches the skin of your sternum they will be sucked in like a movie's portrayal of quicksand. To be so vast on the inside, surrounded by empty air and gentle white noise like the faint pull of gravity that does not touch you. To feel so powerful as to be untethered wholly from the world, aware that you will blink and be floating alone in a space that you cannot touch and so too cannot touch you. You blink, and it is gone, and you are again in a normal body as a normal person, and you roll over and go back to sleep.

To be deific is to watch the seasonal changes and feel flashes of worn leather rope between your hands and the maddened singsong of the Wild Hunt, chariot reins in your hands and baying hounds that feel like fingers, like wings, like extensions of yourself that can be shifted around with barely a thought. To feel halfway like a black hole walking down the street, halfway caved into yourself and barely contained, incapable of truly understanding how you can be so far apart from it all without anyone noticing that something is off.

To be deific is to be a fourteen-year-old girl in one moment, unable to understand what draws her so to the wilds if not the song of sympathy that she knows she can understand if she reaches a little farther, a little farther past the barrier that prevents any mortal, psychological mind from understanding the call. To play a pixelated game and have everything rush back. To relive millennia in a single sennight, to go from chipped to broken, utterly broken, as the power comes rushing back and the slow, dawning realization like the day that there is no controlling it. That there is no controlling you.

Millennia of sins come rushing back, and you're mortal again, and you know the only way to bring a god to their knees is to kill them. And if you were spared, if you were brought down without dying, then there was a reason. That someone must have thought you worthy of fixing it. That you should now spend the next several years coming to peace with being a Devil, the cruelest of the cruel, amending fences and repenting your sins.

To be deific is to realize, quite suddenly and without ever actually having the thought, that understanding things through a Christian lens is utterly bullshit and absolutely does not apply to you. Now, your duty is not to repent, or to fix, or to find any sort of salvation. You are the monster queen, the king of the damned, the Devil of a world you made with blood and tears and sweat and magic. To retake the crown, you have to accept yourself. Acceptance does not mean dwelling, or sorrow, or refusing to take the steps forward that will carry you to the crown and halo and horn of deification.

The powers feel less overwhelming as you grow into them. You don't forget the rage. You understand your close friend's words over and over, as the lesson teaches itself. How a Devil so much less powerful and yet so much older than you once looked you in the eye, drink in hand, and gently told you that a single mortal can bring down a Devil, if they try, and believe wholeheartedly in their quest. Do not disrespect mortality. It brings nothing but death.

You wonder briefly who brought you down. You decide, as the lessons prove themselves, that you don't actually care. You're the mortal now, and mortal legends die. Mortal legends change the song of sympathy and the rules of the deific. In order to return, you too must follow the only path a mortal can take to become deific.

To be godkin is to become deific with every step. It's not to seek the divine from outside of it. It's to become it again, and reclaim it; find what was inside all along and grow yourself around it, until it can no longer be pulled from you again without scattering your ashes and stardust among the cosmos, never to return.

To be godkin is to never forget the moments of pure rage that none but powerless fourteen-year-olds can manage. To be godkin is to be an adult with their memory pressed into your skin. To be godkin is for that rage to never truly leave you.

We stand up again and stare at the emotions that are awake when we are not. We wonder what it will take to manifest again, to only twitch a thought in any direction and reshape the reality around us. It is an extension of our being, and the less aware we are of it, the less effort it takes us to remake the world. It is the nature of deification, to change the laws of reality at our whim and will.

To be godkin is simply a matter of knowing that, and forever reaching to do that once more. If only to feel whole and vast, as we always have been.

[yostresswritinggirl]

Where I Can't Follow

Vibe for sad

Icarus is flying too close to the sun. And his wings may not melt, but this time it can break. Where the wind takes him will not be enough.

Pairings -> Venti x Reader?

Word Count -> 1416

Themes -> Sad hours, Abandonment Issues, ACTUAL short fic

Series -> #Sojourner Specials (600 Followers Event)

Warnings -> I seem to only know how to hurt Venti

"Can you tell me more about Celestia?" The said island of where ancients dwelled passes over past the moon as it was noticed and mentioned.

A strum. "The land of the divine?" A nod. "Why, it's a land of bland wine!"

A chorus of their laughters passes over as Celestia once again departs from the skies of Mond.

"Come now, Venti, tell me more!" A hum.

And his demeanor changes when his teal eyes bore on yours, a smile so soft and small, almost unnatural. "Celestia takes more than what we offer, and it is those that it takes which I loathe for."

Do not praise Celestia, for one day it shall take you away too.

Venti had yearned freedom for another. And you remember this tale much more vividly than the others. About the bard, who fought valantly for freedom.

When he sings to you, despite the fact that you had lived thosands of years past the deceased you feel the remnants of the pioneer, like the enigma the Anemo Archon is that stands before you.

You've heard the tales of the bard while by the hands of the Archon's statue and he speaks fondly of him, and ever since then Venti never speaks about him beyond that area. The bard's name or tale seems like a sacred tale that can only be spoken in that divine place. When you sit next to him and watch as his eyes distantly lingers at a land far away from reach, you realized that the direction he faces was where the ruins of the old city lays.

"He was my first friend." You also notice that beyond his mantra that the rhymes loosen up, disappear in the winds when you two sit there. As if he was stripped bare of what he made himself to be. That it was not the image of the bard that he has reincarnated himself to was speaking but the sprite from the war that only wishes to dance with the thousand winds under the symphony of a human's lyre.

"But you're here now! Just like the good old times! At least now, there's nothing that can kill you."

You give him a deadpan at the humor that was not at all. Even if he makes light of the situation you knew he was still aching and trembling inside, his resolve shedding the more he thinks. The more he remembers.

The word death was a touchy subject for him despite his immortality, and he can never finish his tale despite the many times he recited the whole story to you. Why would he detest it? After all it was his sacrifice that has given thousand of years of freedom for the populace. You want to be a hero? Then you'll have to die like one.

Another icon he speaks of so fondly was that of Venessa, the flame-touched knight that became the exemplar of freedom as its hero. When he had awoken to the new age of aristocracy, it was their chance meeting that had made him aware of the changes he dreaded.

Solitude and 500 years away from Mondstadt and its people, to grow on their own without the issue of divine intervention was his recipe for the exercise of freedom. But they turned unhinged and he once again had to intervene to revert it back to its glory.

Venessa was the epitome of paradox over the concept of freedom and slavery, and that of devotion for her people and for Celestia.

"I don't see what's so good about Celestia really," Venti grumbles to himself as you two lay under the shade of the Windrise tree, "but far from this place, I see the appeal of divinity."

You've always liked Windrise for its glorious towering crown as well as the history behind it. This is where the hero ascends to Celestia, her prayers she had uttered her whole life finally received as she ascends to be one of the four winds that continues to protect Mondstadt.

The word feels distasteful on the tip of his tongue, almost spitting it with venom. And you've never seen Venti look over anything with such distaste, besides cheese. But it seems it isn't just Celestia that hurts him now.

And maybe, despite the facade he has shown as the ever-loving God Barbatos, when Dvalin begged for release and freedom from his duty as one of the four winds— despite the years that he had waited for his cleansing, singing to his friend and calling for him to keep it together.

You knew Venti had lost another friend. He didn't want to be selfish, he couldn't be selfish, for he would be a hypocrite of a god to do so.

You can see the longing in the way his eyes twinkles whenever he looks up at the skies, a third layer of masked sadness dwells within it. And when he hugs you tightly as he weeps for both the loss and unshackling, there was a desperation and silent prayer in the way he squeezes you.

You and him realized it together that day. The other side of the coin that is freedom, had taken too much from Venti. And despite being its archon, he was tied down to his city, until his non-existent death he would be there forever. Watching every person move past his life, ascension after death, and death and death.

You thought to yourself, if immortality had given you all that is forever to live it, why does it feel as tho it jails your beloved Venti?

You always knew the capabilities of Venti and his permanence in this world, but as you rush over to his slouched form by Windrise, you couldn't help but release a tear in how broken and drained he looked. You took him in your arms and he succumbs like a lifeless doll so easily.

"It's okay, I can still heal myself," the gnosis that acts as the badge of his archon status had been taken away from his forcefully, beaten by a woman to the ground, his powers yanked out by the use of forbidden power meant to deter the likes of him.

You slip down to the grassy bed, his head laid on your lap as Venti tries to regain his strength without the help of the device that contains a huge chunk of his divine power. The hands on his cheeks tremble and he smiles to himself, nuzzling it. Silly human, he mumbles, I'm not going anywhere.

You were not knowledgeable on his capabilities without his gnosis, and you were scared that like the tales of the end of gods, he'd slip from your hands in the form of a fleeting somber wind. His element.

You squeeze your eyes shut and pour out all the desperation and pleas in your loud mind, please don't take him away, please be safe, please make him come back to how he was before.

In the dead of night with only the sound of the breeze lulling your silence, way above towers—

Celestia listens.

To the heavens may you fly.

Venti's glare was much, much harsher than the biting frost that threatens to tip him over back to the snow hundreds of feet below. The tip of Dragonspine's mountain held no regards for those who need to breathe, a crown of swirling clouds shying it away from distant and prying eyes.

He strums his lyre fiercely as a gale current of the same intensity manifests around him, his wind glider manifesting and instantly opening at the force. He managed to lift himself high enough to break through the clouds and it was a magnificent, magical sight of dazzling blue.

And yet his hand can only reach out at the dot of an island that was thousand of years away from his grasp, his weakened powers dissipates and he floats back down the winter land on his knees.

Venti bangs his fists against the snow as hard as he can and sobs, his tear immediately freezing over before it even passes his cheek. He can't reach that high up, he can't fly over in such a weakened state, despite being the archon of the winds himself.

Curses, he screams at the vortex that eats it whole, the divine has taken from him once again.

"I told you, not to go, where I can't follow."

Now he is alone, stuck in the city of freedom. Maybe he has been awake for too long.

@ellitx @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie

[rayveewrites]

Ray Hijacks the Team ZIT Ghostbuster AU Again

So @shadeswift99 made a few posts a while ago about a Team ZIT(S) ghostbuster AU, And then I may or may not have hijacked the post to add in ideas for most of the other hermits because why not.

Now, back then I was spitballing ideas and making them up on the spot, which is admittedly my usual writing process, but hey.

That said, I've had more time to think about it, and then last night I blacked out for a few hours and came to with a Google Doc filled with short bios for all of the hermits and a handful of hermit-adjacents. Now, this rapidly turned into an urban fantasy AU in my hands, but hey. It's fun.

This is in alphabetical order, with alternate personas (EX, Helsknight, Beetlejhost) beneath their original counterparts when applicable:

Bdubs

Lives in an old mansion in the woods alongside Doc for reasons known only to them. Bdubs works as an interior designer, with a side gig as a freelance hairdresser. His eyes are unnaturally large, similar to Keralis’, and he is at least partially a plant. Completely feral and frequently gets in trouble for having knives on him at all times. He and Cleo have a thing called Knife Club which makes everyone else nervous. Nobody messes with Knife Club. It’s not worth it. Sunbathes frequently.

Beef

Is a perfectly normal human being. He works as a butcher with a side gig as a graphic designer specializing in album covers and spends his free time playing pokemon and dragging Etho along to social events. He was the first person to spot the cryptid, and the first person who Etho approached of his own accord.

Biffa

Is a ghost possessing a robotic shell. Biffa is from the future. While initially his main goal was to get back home to his own time, Biffa has since made friends and settled down into a new life running a cafe specializing in a wide range of teas. He’s quite content with this, and has actually found himself far happier than he was in his own time. While his nature means he can see, hear and touch ghosts, his body was built specifically for a disembodied soul to be in the driver’s seat, and he doesn’t want to risk another taking control. Also, he has more important things to do than have fistfights with ghosts.

Cleo

Is a ghost possessing her own dead corpse. Her nature allows her to see, hear and touch ghosts. Can and will fistfight spirits. She works as a teacher, so she’s usually busy, but occasionally in really nasty situations the Beetlejhost will drag her in to break a ghost’s legs. Does sculpture in her free time, and is actually really good. The only one who can wrangle Beetle to any real capacity, and she’s learned to keep him on a fairly short leash. Housemates with Joe, and Keralis also pops in pretty frequently. Has Knife Club with Bdubs. Has an enchanted flower crown that prevents her from decaying further; a gift from Beetle. Recently started learning magic in the form of necromancy and illusions. Has an ongoing ‘feud’ with Zloy, in which she temporarily traps his soul in random inanimate objects every now and then.

Cub

A bit of a ‘mad scientist’ archetype, Cub’s experiments are not exactly the most ethical, though they’re at least more professional than Doc’s. Responsible for the creation of Jevin. Cub gets possessed stupidly easily- sometimes willingly- and can usually handle it himself but sometimes has to call for help. Has a magical method of communication with Scar for exactly this reason. Has a day job as co-owner of a business called ConCorp, which he started with Scar. Has probably broken the Geneva Convention.

Doc

Was presumably human at one point. Now an abomination. Repeated experiments on himself have resulted in a massively changed facial and foot structure, a body covered in mottled green scales, claws, and goat horns. He lost half his face in one of his experiments, and constructed a new cybernetic one. He lost his right arm fighting God. Killed said god and would do it again. Lives in a mansion in the woods with Bdubs, though nobody’s really sure why. Owns a casino because of course he does. Also a living crime against fashion, because the man refuses to wear anything other than his tattered lab coat, torn jeans, and crocs.

Ely

Runs the local radio station. Nobody’s ever seen him in person, and nobody knows where he gets people’s voice clips for his remixes. Probably a cryptid. Maybe a ghost. Seems pretty chill, despite the blatant invasions of privacy.

Etho

Is a cryptid. Lives out in the woods in an abomination that can barely be called a house. Has never been seen in anything other than full Kakashi cosplay. Tends to keep to himself, but occasionally lets Beef drag him along to social events, often with Doc and Bdubs. Nobody really knows what his deal is. Probably not human. Probably.

False

Used to be part of an illegal underground cage fighting ring, until she earned enough to buy her way out. Having grown up in said ring, she struggles to adjust to normal life, but living in a town where the barista is a robot and the local tailor has wings makes it easier. She now has a job as security at Doc’s casino, alongside Iskall.

Grian

Is either an angel or a demigod, but nobody knows which. Has wings. Is both a tailor and an architect. A complete gremlin who has elaborate masks of various birds and will wear them to commit crimes. Eats seeds. Messes with everyone else’s plants. Lives in Jungle Wood Flats. Volunteers at the local theatre.

Hypno

Has three eyes, but hides the third one under a bandanna at all times. Can see ghosts with it. Had problems with sections of plumbing randomly getting clogged and also making very weird noises, and eventually called Team ZIT when the plumbers couldn’t find the source. Was prepared for ghosts, but wound up with a slime creature instead. Works in a $2 store for some reason.

Impulse

Is fully human. The most sensible member of Team ZIT (which admittedly isn’t saying much), Impulse has a day job as a freelancer building custom PCs and fixing broken tech. Agreed to the whole ghostbusting deal because he was bored, mostly. Was the first one to meet Skizz face-to-face, and is the one to own that particular place outright. Gets possessed every now and then, usually by larger spirits. Used to run solely on caffeine and chronic anxiety until Zedaph started getting on his case about his sleep schedule. Now he runs on less caffeine, more sleep, and the same amount of chronic anxiety.

Iskall

Was part of a cloning experiment to create the ultimate hitman, and was the only known one to both survive and escape before the whole thing was shut down by the authorities. Their eye and arm were replaced with cybernetics in order to increase their already enhanced abilities, and they were chased by said authorities, eventually winding up on Mumbo’s doorstep and becoming Mumbo’s problem. Now works as security at Doc’s casino, alongside False. Lives at Jungle Wood flats. Occasionally volunteers at the local theatre. Does bonsai as a hobby.

Jevin

Is the slime creature in the pipes. Hypno lets him live with him under the condition he stops blocking the plumbing and making weird noises at 3 AM (Jevin still blocks the plumbing and makes weird noises at 3 AM, just not as much as he was). Has taught himself to take a humanoid shape, and likes having fingers. Sleeps in the bathtub because he can. Was created from a vat of chemicals in a secret lab underneath the house, which used to be owned by Cub. Doesn’t really talk to the man in question that much, but will occasionally refer to Cub as his father for the sole reason of watching him go through eight existential crises in three minutes. Has a glock.

Joe

Head librarian at the local public library, and has read a lot of books on Supernatural Things. Is a veritable fountain of exposition if you can figure out what he’s saying or have Cleo along with you to threaten the integrity of his shins. Has never been seen in the same place as the Beetlejhost. Are they the same person? Are they entirely separate beings? Is there a Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde-type situation going on? Who knows!

Beetlejhost

Literally nobody really knows what his deal is. Nobody. Team ZIT ran into him on a call that they expected to be a false alarm and then he decided to follow them home. Spends most of his time being a minor nuisance in the most bizarre ways possible. Is implied to be responsible for the Ever Given getting lodged in the Suez Canal, but never confirmed. When he’s not bothering Team ZIT or getting them out of tight spots, he’s usually pestering Cleo, the only one who can keep him in line. It’s not really known if he and Cleo have a history or if they’re just Like That.

Keralis

Is a ghost haunting an architecture firm, and is mostly bound to the building, though he can travel to other buildings the firm has built, which is, uh, most of them. Initially only able to do small things- mostly writing notes or drawing diagrams- he eventually meets the Beetlejhost when the latter follows Mumbo to work one day for shits and giggles (he wanted to see how long he could mess with Mumbo before the man noticed. As it turned out, about a week, and by the end it was Iskall who noticed). After a couple of days in which Beetle teaches Keralis Ghost Things™, he scares half the office when he finally manifests for the first time. Has unnaturally large eyes and nicknames for most of the workers. Has no idea how he died or what his unfinished business might be. Very knowledgeable about architecture, and his input is usually very much appreciated.

Mumbo

Is a perfectly normal human being who does IT at Keralis’ architecture firm. Lives at Jungle Wood flats and spends most of his free time tinkering with tech and trying to keep Grian and Iskall out of trouble, which is a losing battle. Has a large, beating golden heart in his flat. He’s not really sure what its deal is, but if he feeds it apples it produces enough power for the entire building. Oh, and if he forgets to feed it for an extended period of time it starts draining his bank account. It’s really weird.

Pixlriffs

Was a perfectly normal human being until he died protecting a certain Russian zombie and became a perfectly normal ghost. Was a reporter in life and is a reporter in death. Runs a blog alongside Zloy about the local goings-on, supernatural or not. The blog’s the type where unless you live in/near the town you most likely won’t stumble across it, but they do have a small following of outsiders who assume the blog’s just a work of fiction. His unfinished business is to prevent Zloy from doing anything particularly stupid, a constant battle. Is able to go more places than Zloy due to being incorporeal, but respects people’s privacy. He’s bound to Zloy to a certain degree, not being able to go beyond a certain range of his friend. The range is pretty big, though, and he has plenty freedom of movement.

Python

Had a run-in with the fae as a kid, in which he accidentally pissed one off. In retribution, the faerie challenged him to answer a riddle or he’d be turned into a snake. Python’s answer was partially correct, so the faerie only transformed him partially. Python is fairly chill, though he strongly dislikes the cold and starts hissing if anyone disturbs him during Sun Time™. Sometimes Bdubs, being partially flora, joins Python for Sun Time™. He’s not venomous, because, you know...python. Also, he has a mildly disturbing habit of strangling rats and mice and then eating them whole, but he can’t help it and just tries not to do so when he has company.

Ren

Is a werewolf. He’s pretty chill regardless of form, though it’s only been recently he’s been comfortable enough leaving his ears and tail visible. He works as a lumberjack. One time Pixl introduced him to Monty Python’s Lumberjack Song and it quickly became his favourite thing. He spends most of his free time volunteering at the local theatre because Ren is absolutely a theatre kid and nobody can convince me otherwise. Gets possessed every now and then. Lives in Jungle Wood flats.

Scar

Works as a landscape developer. Gets possessed absurdly easily, though not quite as frequently as Cub. Has a magical method of communication with him. Technically co-owns ConCorp, but isn’t as involved. His cat, Jellie, is very obviously an eldritch abomination in feline form and he is comedically unaware of this. Lives in Jungle Wood Flats with Grian, Iskall, Mumbo, Stress, and Ren.

Skizz

Is the ghost haunting Team ZIT’s office. He was murdered by someone he’d thought was a friend who was trying to use his place to hide from the cops, and he’s stuck around, haunting the building. His unfinished business is to make sure nobody else uses the building for anyone shady, but the ghost rumours tended to chase most people off. Eventually he gets used to having Team ZIT around, and when Tango admits he doesn’t really have anywhere to go one day, Skizz eventually makes the decision to finally unlock the still-furnished upper floor for him. He’s bound to the building, but Impulse learns that carrying Skizz’s old vest with them allows him to leave. After that, Skizz sometimes accompanies them on missions and occasionally just hanging out. He’s usually more helpful than the Beetlejhost is.

Stress

Is a witch. Stress lives in Jungle Wood Flats and works as a doctor who specializes in supernaturally caused injuries- Team ZIT are some of her best customers. She also sells magic potions of various kinds, and has a side gig as a florist. She’s 90% of the Jungle inhabitants’ impulse control. Also has cryokinesis.

Tango

The Team ZIT member with a car. He gets possessed with frankly ridiculous frequency, but claims not to believe in ghosts for a long time (and keeps up the bit for even longer). Has developed various signals to indicate when he’s being possessed again. The strongest one, a rather nasty demon Cleo and the Beetlejhost had to team up on, left him with his glowing red eyes. He didn’t really have anywhere to go before Impulse bought the office, and tended to sleep on the couch or in his car until Skizz decided to let him into the upper floor, where he now lives alongside Zedaph and Impulse.

TFC

A now-retired ghostbuster, TFC calls in Team ZIT one night when he finds himself in over his head against a ghost with a grudge. He winds up becoming a bit of a mentor figure to the trio, usually coaching them over the phone if they’re not sure how to deal with one of the stranger spirits. Lost his leg years ago in a fight with a poltergeist that could have gone better, and now has a robotic prosthetic made by Doc.

Wels

While Team ZIT was out investigating some rumour or another in the woods, they came across a large stone box. Following video game logic, I guess, they then decided opening this large stone box sounded like a fun idea. Well, Tango and Zedaph did. Impulse was a bit more hesitant. The box actually held a medieval knight who’d been put in an enchanted sleep for centuries by his demonic doppelgänger, and was very much not prepared for modern life. Team ZIT took him to Xisuma, who happened to live closest, and Wels is currently helping out on the farm and trying to adjust to life in the 21st century. He can understand and speak modern English just fine because magic. Volunteers at the local theatre quite a lot.

Hels

Is Wels’ doppelgänger. Technically a minor demon. Won a fight with Wels and sealed him away for centuries as a result. A recurring problem. His real motivation is that he really desperately doesn’t want to go back to Hell, but he’s too proud to admit it. Lives in the woods with EX, who’s basically his only friend, though the weirdo with the brown cardigan keeps pestering him about his backstory and feelings for some reason. Has minor pyrokinesis.

XB

Like Biffa, XB is also a ghost from the future, though it seems to be a different timeline than Biffa’s. His unfinished business is preventing the apocalypse, but he has no idea how to do that, no idea if he’s in the right timeline, and is pretty sure he’s gone back a lot farther than he probably should’ve. Also, there’s the whole paradox issue, where if he prevents the apocalypse he never has a reason to go back and prevent the apocalypse, so he doesn’t prevent the apocalypse, so he has to go back and- he tries not to think about it too much. He mostly just hangs out in an abandoned house on the edge of town and vibes.

Xisuma

Is a beekeeper. Nobody’s ever seen his face; when he’s not in his beekeeping outfit, he’s either wearing a helmet, or (more recently) an extremely lifelike and detailed animal mask (is it a mask?). Actually a shapeshifting alien, he crashed down to Earth after a scuffle with his evil clone and was stranded because Earth doesn’t have the right tools or resources to repair a spaceship. These days he’s actually found he’s happier tending to his bees, selling honey, and helping his friends out, and probably wouldn’t leave Earth even if he could. It’s a simpler life, but a pleasant one. He bonds with Biffa over a shared love of tea and being stranded in a technologically inferior world and finding a home.

Evil Xisuma

Is Xisuma’s clone. Feels that if everyone’s going to call him ‘Evil’ he may as well own it. Shot his original’s spaceship down in a scuffle but wound up being brought down with him. Currently hides in the woods. Generally more of a minor nuisance than an actual danger. Used to spend his free time bothering X but has gotten put off by Wels, who has a problem when it comes to evil clones. His friends consist of Hels, who is a terrible role model, and Zedaph, who’s trying to help him work through his problems behind everyone’s backs. Can summon lightning because he deserves it.

Zedaph

Is the reason Team ZIT is ghostbusting in the first place. He’s a sheep shearer by trade, but that’s a fairly seasonal thing and ghostbusting is more fun anyway. Has somehow never been possessed, and claims it’s because he’s always standing next to Tango. He makes sure the other two gets enough sleep Because we all know they can’t be trusted to do it. Probably has some sort of really bizarre and situational magical powers he is thoroughly unaware of. Qualified to be a licensed therapist. Made friends with Evil X at one point, somehow.

Zloy

Like Cleo, he’s a ghost possessing a corpse. Unlike Cleo, there’s a good chance it’s not his corpse. Eh, it’s not like anyone else was using it. Runs a blog with Pixl, because why not. Was already a zombie when he met Pixl, who was still alive at the time. His body is a bit more decayed than Cleo’s, but it’s fine. His goggles are enchanted with the same preservation spell; it’s not really ever explained where he got them from. Has no regard for privacy but is fortunately unable to turn invisible or phase through walls due to inhabiting a physical body. Both can theoretically physically fight ghosts and has enough time to physically fight ghosts, meaning he would be a valuable ally if he could be bothered. Lives in a graveyard. Has an ongoing ‘feud’ with Cleo, in which he puts jabs at her on the blog. Once spent a week as a (very sarcastic) floating potato.

Hermiton

Is the name of the place they all live in/near. Located in an ambiguous location in an ambiguous country, Hermiton is technically large enough to be considered a city but has Town VibesTM. Supernatural going-ons are a fairly normal part of life, and a good number of inhabitants aren’t humans. Despite this, the wider world seems mostly ignorant of the existence of ghosts, magic, etc. I’m not too sure about geography, but it’s surrounded by forest in most directions and in a warm enough climate to not have snow in the winter (so Python doesn’t, you know, freeze to death). Most people don’t tend to bat an eyelid at strange-looking people walking down the street or serving them at the store; they’re used to it by now. There are several theories as to why Hermiton specifically has so much going on when it comes to the supernatural- ley lines, secretly the resting place of some long-forgotten god, et cetera- but it’s actually more of a case of ‘people who have supernatural traits hear rumours of a place where a lot of people have supernatural traits and go there in search of answers/a place to belong’. This doesn’t exactly explain where all the ghosts came from, but hey. Nothing’s perfect.