#『ooc』mundane shenanigans

[dcdreamblog]

How many metal men there were? I remeber them being 6 when i was little but then a bunch appeared and dissappeared and stuff.

And does Steel from metropolis have anything to do with them?

There are 7 siblings in their family and 6 members of the team. Which is the interesting part.

(A publicity shot of the Metal Men and their creator, Dr Will "Doc" Magnus.) Doc Magnus is one of the foremost minds in both robotics and elemental chemistry, creating a lot of more mundane marvels that you and I use everyday. However his famous magnum opus was the Metal Men, showing off his invention of a device called the Responsometer. Now the science of it all is WAY above my head but down to brass (hehe) tacks, basically when a Responsometer is implanted into a sufficient amount of a pure metal, the device is able to animal that metal into a thinking, feeling robotic automaton. The personality contained within the Responsometer is able to animate every part of the metal body independently, allowing each of the Metal Men to shapeshift as if they were made out of a stable liquid and then instantly resolidify without limits. All of this without losing any property of the metal in question. The original six Metal Men were Gold, Lead, Iron, Tin, Mercury and "Platinum" (although her chosen name is Tina, which is how I will refer to her from now on). They're the hometown heroes of New Jersey if you happen to live outside the Gotham Metro and despite the unfortunate mental stability of their creator, father and patriarch Doc Magnus, the team is still getting up to their super scientist shenanigans to this day...save for that one little lady on the left. THAT, is Copper. She is the team's "baby" having been created well after the rest of the group during a manic episode of Doc Magnus' run in with a cult of super scientists (another time maybe). Helping him to escape that situation she was introduced to the rest of her siblings. ...and then almost instantly discovered she had no interest in the superhero life. Don't get me wrong, she did what was needed of her. She saved lives. I'm not calling her a coward, or a screw up. I'm saying that after about a year fighting alongside her family she found that all she got out of it was stress and injury and heartache. So she quit.

(Copper Magnus' official staff photo at STAR Labs of Gotham. OOC: phil-cho on DA)

This story isn't as tragic as you think, it's not like she walked out on her family or anything. She just decided to go to college, she now has a major in Security Services and she works at STAR Labs in Gotham where by all accounts she's a model employee and makes the same commute into and out of the suburbs as the rest of us. It's just interesting that the odd on out in their family is the one who went to college and got a respectable 9-to-5.

[indigitalembrace]

[ooc: since this is a long message I’m not encoding it, but it is encrypted in-universe]

spooky. sup.

i got somthin big cookin. but for this to work i need intel.

first, i need a favour. i cant do much thanks to the watchdog. i so much as twitch my fingers on the keyboard in the wrong place an time and this whole operation will come crashin down. so. if u can, watch the shrimp for me when they are online doin mundane stuff. because if they do stuff like use social media, play games that require a registered account, use their email and especially if they get online deliveries to their house, those all will have info that will help me figure out where they live irl.

second: tell me everything u know about how pinkie can access an affect the real world. whats the limitations. how much warning would i get. what r the access points. do devices need power for it to be able ta use em? how functional do they have to be? would pinkie be able to exit a screen the size of a pager or somthin? does it need an internet connection to jump pcs or can it do that without it?

and can it be hurt in the real world? can it be hurt by destroying its host device while its occupyin it? or is the only way to kill it digitally? did you ever have a program specifically set up for that (if so, y u no gimmie dat earlier!? rude!). how long would it take?

also any info u have picked up on shrimp or their livin space that might be useful for an irl confrontation would be suuuuuper handy as well.

give me all ya got on all these things. if its a lot, just send me a zip file or somthin lol.

i do have some unfortunate news. i think we gotta change our 'meeting site' soonish. ill send ya some prospectives later. i have a feelin that it might get compromised.

i mayyyyyy have poked the shrimp with a stick. don’t worry, they wont be able to tell the actual pc I used. I am da disquise master. it is me. also i lied. ive scrounged up some burner laptops anyway. my friends r awesome (dont worry they aint involved they just knew I needed the laptops for reasons and they are used to me Enacting Shenanigans).

oh. And one last thing. when I get there, hightail off that pc asap. im gonna signal u and give you a path to a safe pc. Do Not Hesitate. cuz trust me no matter how I decide ta play this u will *not* wanna be on that computer when im doin my thing. and ill almost certainly be disabling the wi-fi in the process.

id like u ta not be double dead. low key fond of ya spookster.

Goblin out

[ooc: If there is a lot of info to give and you don’t want to post it all here, message me and we can work something out like a google doc or something. Or maybe there’s not much for Sonny to say. I dunno, I’m not driving this crazy train lol]

[ENCRYPTED MESSAGE] Ty. Kqgwkh'j tpx cex nhw voe zrtpxf rec tpx rrmr ywn bvxu… lcvyzep fwk mfn, ye'a wwjmiakmsu. Ted abbtx Z czxokxu hqf… W bgfw zbuym nhmks yx jtwksj xmezrhybeg. [SENDING ENCRYPTED FILE "SHRIMP_DATA.zip"] Myab lvfncd ptjv xmezrhybeg ghi exvd. Qm'g vovrgmvzgx tpth jipivz afgjtmk yehns. Ghi dtp nwm vrov mcvv ntinqgu navn px uvmj avzfp. Xmev t qffgubxf tkrspbbx pfn'b lhfi yiu. As ytj fcez thetzhz fovr bas jrjtmf, pfmy ibl vrkuwiks rgu swyhntie. Bas dhjt qgjrlzvm iffziau B'jv xmez lsvg. Zf ghi jxv hql tfkd sbtfk mf cptbxx, rnl as'j zioeg wemf a nhfd pztp vzrpj, ib'l hfh cabx. Wk'l vxbko khf lims zy ye ohsj betw awj lyalhk-chfkqgu whim. Px ceep dwxg kart ease av's zxocep, rmtzcr gialsu ted thgzgx cwghihc on awj xdobbcel. Khmks zl… eo etm kh wioah fk fubkie azm, aacim ff jhcbbeg qm hf mye vxoixjt xeotx waz yoi tnag yfff rng xzvvkrwgwt wvvqvsj. B uo vhh bgfw phk ktcl ghi rkv, bcm W uhlbb rcl tie wosi mvn igr r arln ysvm kate. Vv'l rlah trlk. Efmfvfvlg yojm. Rnl mvzgbs ynwtdcy, bhc, vovn qy vv wfeag'h dtbe bas dhjt zthzheat wstbjiwgg. Z wf nwm yehn hql zzfztimwfgj iv msifj on lqixvn abnv, ult Q wc bgfw pbg andpqgu wkfm avfvxe tw lqixvn wnhjbue bas ubxibtz nhill lsvfj ivwsgxedmgh fy rn qghvkeeb vcegvcbbce. Fp bmlh kavozr wj myab tg r wzgqmoc uvivz, vv bj ciiosev on zsexiabbbx azs wpb thenmvhzhe on lcdx jozm, plm vvmg W uhe't nnzcr lnlxfjmrnl awd. B lsmw hf arvm t yzec sebhta ff ahfkl. R bivyuhfr bh rvevtm awj lvrdxfj. Nefwkhlgrtmem, yx wocgr kart utbp rvazl oxh. Jeiesu bk ux, wsjmiogxr nartmosi av cwnzu, vyavzsu tcl bas gtjsehful. Nhimsmxi ywn rf, rfuz usjm thigqv hw sckjzorl ql hf frkm liix ye lhsjg'k smx mfn, fr pxoi rfu, wk smxe nwmwtx poc'ks kavrm. Mvrm jhzbag gvvmk zvtmea mvvbi rwha, yheeamzp, ted Sbbzmf's iekrrj wimqybeg. Ghi exvd bh ardv scks yx zsv'm ocxitmw, ci bk's otav hmez yci rfu. Ohcu elcs, fm wkzevw. Gktp siys.

[bansheeoftheforest]

Why You Should Never Let Your Teacher Drink [AC Basim / Hytham]

I wrote this like 20 min before falling asleep the night before because the thought gripped me. Once more this might be incredibly OOC but I enjoyed writing this <3

It also took me exactly one (1) day to go from "haha their relationship is vague! It is whatever you want it to be!" to "they are so homosexual dear god" and I regret nothing

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Wordcount: 3,099

Summary: Basim decides to indulge their hosts and partakes in drinking. Hytham is left to deal with the aftermath. Shenanigans ensue.

CW: Alcohol and innuendos.

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Out of every promise the Wolf-Kissed had ever made, he never thought that this would be the one they would break.

It was a holiday of sorts - Hytham was not entirely sure which, as every member of the Raven Clan seemed to have different answers when asked; some said it was a festival to celebrate autumn, while others said it was a celebration of the harvest season, and some claimed that it was no different than the typical week-long feasts held in the longhouse. But now, as the two assassins had properly settled in Ravensthorpe, it seemed like they were expected to participate.

What Hytham did not expect, however, was that Basim, of all people, had finally agreed to partake. 

As the night of the festival’s fifth day rolled around, Sigurd and Eivor seemed to have worn down his mentor, and he had agreed to drink with them. Just a few years ago, he knew Basim would have refused, he still did, but it seemed that their time among the Norsemen had made him choose to partake in their culture and repent a bit extra once their own religious seasons rolled around. Yet, for Basim’s sake, he had attempted to speak to Eivor.

“I am not Basim's keeper,” he had said, although it technically was a lie, “but please, keep an eye on him. I do not wish for him to get drunk.”

“What is wrong with celebrating?” The Wolf-Kissed had asked, and he did not blame them, as this was a strong culture clash.

“Nothing. If Basim wishes to drink, I will not stop him, but...” He had hesitated. Then he had sighed. “He gets quite... Irate when under the influence.”

“Oh, I see.” The vikingr had said. And with a smile on their lips and a hand on Hytham’s shoulder, they had added; “I will make sure nothing gets out of hand.”

It did, however, get out of hand.

As Hytham had recollected from various witnesses, the three - as Hytham himself had not joined - had started off quite easily. One horn each, drinking slowly, and spending most of their time merely talking about mundane and benign things. Then, as the night wore on, and each man had gotten tipsier, Sigurd had challenged the southerner to a drinking contest, and it was no surprise to the apprentice that his mentor had agreed. The man rarely let loose, but he was never one to back off from a challenge. And so, they had drank, and drank, and...

Now, Basim was positively passed out against the table, seemingly having had just enough of his brain power left to fold his arms on the wood to support his heavy head, vaguely groaning. 

Sigurd was not faring any better, being spread over one of the benches, fast asleep and snoring loudly. Randvi, like Hytham, had arrived to collect her responsibility from the largely empty longhouse. It was also no surprise to him that she could easily lift her husband and carry him towards their bedroom on the other end of the hall, as if he weighed no more than the furs on her shoulders. Eivor was the only one out of the three drunkards to be conscious, mumbling and attempting to sit up straight, even though it seemed like they wanted nothing more than to sleep and sleep until the hangover had passed. As much as he would have loved to remind them about their promise, the apprentice knew better than to interrogate them in such a state. Finally, turning his attention back to his mentor, he sighed.

“Basim,” he tried, placing his hand upon his mentor’s shoulder. “Come on, I cannot carry you to the bureau.”

Basim groaned again, although something in him seemed to spark to life, vaguely, like he was beginning to wake up. Yet, as he shifted, he merely cranked one eye open with the extreme laziness of a fat, napping cat, the other still covered by his arm. As his vision focused and began to unblur, he breathed a deep sigh of relief.

“Hytham.” He murmured, shifting as if to get closer to him. “C’mere.” 

“No.” He really did not have time for this, especially if he wished to get his mentor out of the public before sunrise. “Come on, you big oaf. You need to get up.”

Basim whimpered- whimpered- and reached his hand out, moving wildly in an attempt to grab his apprentice. The other sighed, and decided to humour him for just a moment, not moving out of the way. Basim hooked his finger into one of the knife loops on Hytham’s belt and pulled him close, silently thanking god for his seat right by the end of the table making such a move possible, and proceeded to wrap his arms around the smaller man’s waist. Hytham had little choice but to stay there and let his mentor nuzzle into his torso as Randvi soon returned.

“See?” He said, gesturing towards the practically purring man. “This is why I don't want him drunk.”

Randvi stared for just a moment, then began to laugh loudly.

“Out of all the sights I expected to see, this was not one of them.” She grinned, coming closer, standing by Hytham's shoulder, although she kept her distance as if to not disturb the scene. “I didn’t even know that you two were...”

“We aren't,” he interjected, then sighed once more. “Well... Not when he is sober, anyways.”

Randvi crossed one arm over her chest, resting the elbow of the other upon it, hand covering her mouth in an attempt to be modest over how amusing she found this. By Hytham's stomach, he heard the low grumble of his mentor.

“Who’re you talkin’ to?” The older mumbled, still refusing to move from his position. 

“Randvi.” He replied, then turning back to the woman in question. “This is another problem.”

“What, that he doesn't recognise people?” She really could not help but chuckle. 

“No.” Basim squeezed him tighter, and Hytham sighed. “The moment there is alcohol in his veins, he becomes the most paranoid, jealous man I know.”

Basim's fingers dug into him. He had to keep himself from rolling his eyes as the mentor moved, attempting to look him straight in the eyes.

“You know other men?”

It had to be a joke, yet he said it so seriously that it was absolutely ridiculous. To his side, Randvi burst out laughing.

“Of course I know other men, you big oaf. What do you think I am, a nun?” Somewhere in Hytham’s own mind, frustration turned to momentary confusion. “Why would that even matter?” 

Hytham would never have dared to speak so disrespectfully, so harshly towards his mentor during any other time, but the chances of Basim remembering - or daring to acknowledge - any of this when he was next sober were quite low. Yet his answer and his question seemed to displease him. Basim practically growled, attempted to pull him closer again, fingers digging into his robes as he attempted to coax him into his lap. Hytham merely placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him away, letting him keep his arms around him, but forcing a steady distance to keep himself on his own two feet. 

Much to his chagrin, Basim looked utterly heartbroken, like a wounded, whimpering dog caught in the rain. Yet he was too fed up with what had already happened to even allow himself to feel bad for that infuriatingly confusing man. Before he could continue attempting to wrangle his mentor, however, he turned to Randvi, and pointed his free index finger at her.

“Not a word about this to anyone else.”

She raised her arms in feigned innocence. He trusted her well enough, but he knew that he could not trust that this situation would stay in this room, especially when the entire clan had gathered and watched them get drunk, especially when the doors were still open, and especially when Hytham would have to get his mentor out into the public to get him to the bureau. All he wished was to quell as much gossip as possible, and then, later, in the privacy of the bureau, he could bemoan that there was only one bed. His bed. 

Lending him some grace, Randvi turned to Eivor, and began to help them out of their seat. Since the Wolf-Kissed was still conscious, it was easy to guide them stumbling to their room, leaving Hytham with a short period of time to convince Basim to move. It had been different in Constantinople, where he would have had the strength, the speed, and the stamina to easily carry his mentor back to their lodgings throughout the least crowded areas of the massive city, but his body no longer allowed him such feats of strength, and Ravensthorpe was small.

“Basim,” he tried again. Perhaps some sort of reward could help... " If you get up and walk back to the bureau with me...”

Basim looked up at him. Somewhere in the near future, Hytham may either laugh or reminisce about the absolutely puppy-eyed expression he was making at him. He looked at him expectantly, waiting. Yet when Hytham struggled to come up with something that might motivate him...

“Lay with me.” 

A needle could have been heard dropping to the floor on the other side of the longhouse. Hytham froze, stared down at his mentor, and gaped. 

“I- I am absolutely not-” 

Basim whimpered again, tightening his grip.

“Please?” He begged, “Just- just lay in my arms. Is that so bad?”

Hytham merely continued to stare.

“Is that what you want? You want to cuddle?”

Basim nodded eagerly, messing up the folds and tucks of the younger one’s robes as he did so. The apprentice had to take a moment to take a deep breath, pinch the bridge of his nose, and calm his galloping, stupidly flustered heart. 

“Fine.” He said. “Fine, I will cuddle, but only if you do not struggle to get to the bureau.”

Basim nodded even more, hummed as if to further show that he understood, even though his tongue was thick and limp in his mouth. Then, as to further be the obedient man that Hytham had rarely seen, he attempted to stand, yet he swayed on his feet and forced his full body-weight upon his poor apprentice, who struggled to keep him upright. 

Once, back in their own land, Hytham was strong, and he had been stronger than Basim despite his smaller frame. Now he was just small, weak, and injured, and with Basim towering over him, he could smell the sour, bitter smell of alcohol on his lips. It was all more than a bit repulsive. 

As Basim stopped swaying and Hytham managed to keep them both still and upright, and with his mentor incapacitated, lazy, dull, and slow, the younger had little to no problem to manoeuvre him; first he made the older one let go of him, as he still attempted to cling on, then he turned him so that they were hip to hip, and flung the other’s left arm over his own shoulder. Hytham’s right arm came around his waist to further support the other’s stumbling, and before he knew it, Basim sighed a wistful sigh and placed his own right hand over his. The alcohol made him even warmer than usual. Somewhere behind them, he could hear Randvi’s bright laugh and a very amused ‘good luck!’, clearly feeling no need to help her friend.

Luckily for him, it was quite late, and the residents of Ravensthorpe were either drunk, sleeping, or drunk and sleeping, therefore the path from the longhouse to the bureau was mostly empty, beyond a handful of Eivor’s crew who hadn’t managed to take themselves home and fell asleep against the nearest porch or fencepost. Basim, to his credit, was dutifully following in stumbling step with his limping apprentice, humming and murmuring with soft concern when Hytham’s breathing turned raspy or shallow with overexertion. Finally, as they stepped into the little cabin that Hytham called his, he could not help but take a deep breath of relief. With just a few further steps, he could - admittedly more carefully than he really wished - place his drunk mentor on his bed. 

The bed barely fit Hytham, he was small, but the bed was smaller, which was not a problem as he usually slept curled up. Basim, however, who was taller, took up every free space and looked comically large. The mentor tossed and turned for a moment, wiggling and squirming on his back, attempting to look at Hytham, who was not yet in bed with him.

“You- C’mere.” 

Hytham rolled his eyes. He could hardly believe that this was the same mentor who complained about him being clingy, too feeling, too sympathetic, too tethered to emotions. Yet he merely grabbed ahold of Basim’s legs and pulled off his boots, he did not want dirt and mud tracked into his bed, after all. 

“Yes, yes, be patient.” 

Basim groaned and threw an arm over his eyes, clearly majorly grieved by such a minor inconvenience. Hytham did not bother to remove his or Basim’s robes; it was bad enough that he was about to share bed with his drunk, clingy, possessive mentor, and so he did not want to have Basim question him about why they were undressed, too. Instead, he merely kicked off his own boots and placed both pairs to the side, then he began to close the doors, locking them. 

“Hythaaaaaam-” 

While a heavy sigh escaped him, he could no longer help but smile, if only slightly. He would never admit it, but his mentor’s clinginess was... Slightly funny, perhaps even a bit endearing. Finally, as the last candle was snuffed, the apprentice moved back towards the bed, where Basim had his arms opened wide - or at the very least, as wide as he could, with the bed being pushed up against a wall. 

“You are absolutely infuriating.” Was all Hytham said, before he, like the obedient acolyte he was, dropped himself into his mentor’s arms. He only felt a little pleased hearing the ‘Omph!’ the other let out. Still, Basim seemed incredibly pleased, as he immediately wrapped his arms back around Hytham’s admittedly small waist, holding him close. He had propped his head up with Hytham’s pillow, and Hytham had landed far up enough that Basim could easily bury his face in his hair, which is exactly what he did. Nuzzling and, once more, purring like a Persian street cat. 

As he relaxed, deciding that his mentor’s warm body would be a suitable enough resting place for the night, he drifted off to sleep. There was no need to stay awake and hope to escape his arms sooner or later. Knowing Basim, he would wake and once more make his grievances known. Very well, it would be a problem for tomorrow...

...

As the warm sun filtered through the windows of the bureau, Basim was the first to stir. 

The inevitable hungover pounded with a certain unfamiliarity throughout his head, vision still unfocused and body feeling disgustingly hot. Yet, as he stared up at the ceiling, he realized two things:

First and foremost, he did not recognise this ceiling.

Secondly, he was not alone in this bed. 

His brows furrowed, and he attempted to shift and take a look at the very familiar man, who still slept soundly against his chest. Even when his focus waned and ebbed in and out of consciousness, even then, he recognised the short, incense-smelling hair and that sharp nose that rested against his ribcage. He squinted. 

“...Hytham?” 

The man in question began to stir now, too. He stretched and had yet to open his eyes. All acknowledgement the older got was a short ‘hmm?’. 

The realization that he could not remember the night before startled him like being thrown into icy water. 

“Why-” His voice was still thick, tongue clumsy, as he attempted to decipher the situation. “Why are you laying on me?” 

He dreaded the answer. Hytham, to his credit, was calm. He cranked a lazy eye open, a gesture that Basim did not even recognise to mirror his the night before. 

“You asked me to lay with you, and you were quite insistent on it, too.” Hytham yawned. “So, I obliged.”  

He paled, the look of abject terror dawning on his face in such a way that Hytham could not help but laugh. Loud and clear, bright. Basim was not yet sober enough to realize that they were both still clothed.

“According to what I could get out of you last night,” Hytham continued, “you ‘merely wished to cuddle’. You refused to get up or get to the bureau otherwise.” 

Finally, the younger moved, scooting off from his mentor’s warm body and standing up. His legs especially ached after last night’s attempt to drag Basim back, and so, he took a moment to fully stretch. As he looked back at Basim, he saw that he did not look any less concerned. 

“And no,” he clarified, “we did not sleep together.” 

He heard his mentor take a deep breath of relief, as if he had been holding it until he got that confirmation. Turned with his back to him, done stretching and now fixing his robes, Hytham merely shot a questioning look into thin air, shaking his head slightly. Sure, he had enjoyed confusing him, but the fact that Basim seemed to not even question the possibility that they could have-

Behind him, Basim swallowed dryly, a motion that was easily heard in the thick silence of the room.

“I did not...” The older winced at how rough his voice still sounded, “I... I did not do anything else, right?” 

This time, Hytham turned to him, and continued to look at him as he strode over to where he had placed his boots, putting them on.

“Besides asking me to lay with you, holding me like a child’s toy, and attempting to put me in your lap in front of Randvi?” He faked thinking for a moment. “Not that I know of.” 

This time, the older blushed, a dark colour that travelled up his body in embarrassment. He threw his hands over his face, as if wishing to hide from the realization of his own behaviour. Lucky for him, as it meant he could not see Hytham’s only slightly sly grin.

“What can I say?” he shrugged. “I told you not to drink.” 

He turned and moved towards his desk. From his bed, he heard Basim groan.

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Please consider supporting this fic on AO3 as well!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61799041

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[unkiindness]

🌈Pride month questionnaire: allies can fill out too to show support!

❤🌈Sexuality: Demisexual, Bi-Panromantic spectrumish…?  I tend to go with fluid.

💛🌈Gender pronouns: she/her/they/them (I don’t care which you use.)

💚🌈Gender: Grey-demigender, Non-binary 

 💙🌈Relationship status: Single as a Pringle.

 💜🌈Celebrity crush: Don’t have one.

💙🌈Crush: I got few and some of them are fictional!

💚🌈Best Friend: Which one?

💛🌈When you came out: Uh, I was in my mid-20s.  Waiting for Dad to drop something off with a work friend when I just, “oh hi, i’m bisexual.”

❤🌈First person you came out to: My mom then my aunts?  Family wise.  Friend wise, y’all know i’m gay.

💛🌈First gf/bf: I had them online.

💚🌈First heart break: 2008

💙🌈Ever had a crush on a straight person?: Yes.

💜🌈Fallen for a friend?: Yes.

💙🌈Cool straight friend: I don’t have many but offline friend Reuben.

💚🌈Best LGBTQ+ friend: I have quite a number but i’ll go with Whiskey, they’re loud and proud.

💛🌈Person that made you doubt your sexuality: I don’t remember.

❤🌈Are you proud of your sexuality?: I think so, but I think the explicit stuff should be saved for people you’re actually safe with?

💛🌈Are you comfortable with your sexuality?: I’m still getting used to it?

💚🌈Describe yourself: Eldritch Horror in the corner.

💙🌈LGBTQ+ hero: Sailor Uranus from Sailor Moon

💜🌈Favourite part of being LGBTQ+?: I don’t know, because why isn’t this more normalized?

Tagged by: Stole it. From @whiskeysrpcenter Tagging: Steal it.

[elxfi-archived]

@skyvar​

I just realized, a baby between a Hollow and a Shinigami could maybe get Mayuri's attention, idk any exact details about this verse, but if she still in the 12th, is there possible worry, fear? Would she try to hide it? Is that even possible in the 12th? Is Starrk even known as her man there? And if so, how do they feel about a Shinigami bedding a Hollow? I prob could ask more, but yeah first gotta know if she is still in Soul Society.

[Hi hi! Thanks for the questions, Snow! All good things that we have indeed discussed. So primarily, I interact with @diversoulity​‘s Mayuri. I think Zeke is an incredible writer & his Mayuri & Chiyo click very well. Generally in this verse, Zeke’s Mayuri doesn’t have too much interest in the twins (not as babies, at least). His Mayuri is not a fan of babies & honestly just doesn’t want them near the division. He’s well aware of Chiyo’s pregnancy & by who. Mayuri is a smart man with eyes everywhere. Of course he found out. He doesn’t care what she does with her personal life, so long as she continues to serve the division well. So she is still a member of the 12th. However, we did discuss what would happen if things were different. If we interacted with a Mayuri who did want to get a hold of the babies. In that scenario, she would speak to Kyoraku about her situation & see about a transfer of divisions (most likely to the fourth), but would put forth every effort possible to conceal her pregnancy up until that point. If that were not a possibility, I imagine she would desert the Soul Society all together & go to Kisuke for help (being that she is still close with him). This isn’t to say I’m not open to interacting with other Mayuri’s who WOULD take an interest in the twins. Everyone’s interpretations are different & I love to explore different paths. But as of her main verse (being that there’s no pocket verses with alternate scenarios at the moment. Things can get messy when you have too many verses), what I originally stated is how things are at the moment.  I hope this clears things up!]

[ferineelegance]

((morbidly hilarious how, at least currently, the verse with the darkest hypothetical endings on here is freakin fuzors verse. Not RDR, or any of the more default ‘mature’ verses, no. The freakin verse that spawned from the obscure, cheapo, afterthought toy-seller, Y7-rated anime ends up the most depressing shit on here mentally/emotionally for Esie lol and it’s not even a close race.

[highway-in-the-sky]

With the first ark of the idw comic I wanna take a breather and go over it all. Give some more in depth thoughts, I will start to do the same at the end of issues for IDW as well as archie when it gets more actually serious, as well as talk about arks when they end.

The idw sonic comic starts on such a high note, This first ark feels exactly how a sonic story should, great characterization of the main crew, fun action set pieces and quick pacing. It doesn't get too bogged down or doesn't stay for too long. Right off the bat it nails the characterization of sonic and most of his crew which, to me at least, is the most important thing about this comic. I could watch sonic and friends to anything from the extreme to the mundane as long as they are written well. It was also very exciting to see neo metal sonic and metal overlord again. I loved the mr. tinker plot even if I wish we got to spend more time on it and all the original characters introduced slapped.

Rough and Tumble are you usual mooks, the duo that can take a punch but ultimately will get beaten in the end without too much issue. However they are such cool designs (especially a fan of rough's) and are played goofy enough that it's just fun when they show up. They also got that team rock intro and people make fun of them for it. It's a bit I will always love every time.

Tangle is great, it's nice to have a solely action oriented female character who can party alongside sonic. Sure amy is there but amy has more responsibility as well as has a lot of baggage through her history in the franchise, plus you have to worry about romance shenanigans which is kinda exhausting with those two (I have been jerked around with this ship for so fucking long with the will they won't they, just say they if they will or won't already). Tangle is just here to fucking party and I'm super here for it.

Whisper needs a hug, While we are missing most the pieces currently (I'll get into more with the tangle and whisper mini series), she is already a super fun character. She's super cool and I love her design a lot, I can't say much though without talking about the mini series

and Starline my favorite, It's just fun to see a character who's diehard loyal to eggman but not blindly so. While we haven't seen much yet so I won't get too into it, I love how even when starline goes under eggman's nose it's not to double cross or backstab but to hopefully bring him along with him. Sure in litteral outcome this does end up similarly to backstabbing but the context makes it so much more interesting then just "I'm going to stab the main villain in the back."

However it's not all sunshine and rainbows I do have some complaints, Namely with you guessed it Shadow, and trust me I'll have more to complain about as this goes on but for where we currently are I'll say this, he's not totally terrible, his first appearance is actually pretty enjoyable, sonic and his moral conflict feels very in character even if shadows stubbornness to the extreme it's shown feels ooc. However his lack of willingness to actually work with anyone and listen to plans is just so frustrating and contradicts how he acts in other games, like heroes and 06 (I know 06 isn't canon but god damn shadow's characterization is on point and I think looking at it for reference is fine). Now I know that this isn't entirely the writers fault, this is obvious when you look at Even Stanley and compare her writing of shadow in her personal sonic fan comic to the idw comic and it becomes obvious. I've also heard good things about shadows writing on Ians Archie run so it stands for him as well. A lot of the problems can be laid at segas feet as they want him to be this standoffish lone wolf kinda edgy rivil to sonic who cares for nothing but a good fight and that's just not really shadow. It ignores that shadow has made connections with team dark and has this strong mutual respect with sonic. It just makes me dread seeing my favorite character instead of excited. I will say while mandates are the major point of blame here I will say some of this can be layed at the Ian Flynns feet as he's not perfect. This becomes clear as Evan Stanley's writing of shadow is much much better (even if still restrained in this confine of the mandates) Shadow in the Chao race ark is much better than the battle for angle island ark and def metal virus. I'm getting ahead of myself but what I will say is this is my biggest complaint so far with the writing. So far Ian Flynn has done a great job aside from this and it doesn't prevent me from enjoying the comic

also so far all the artist do an amazing job the art in this comic is exilant!

[drstrangefictions]

What If... He Who Remains Could Send Frigg Lokidottir Home?

Chapter Three

Loki Laufeyson & Original Female Character

Word Count: 2K+

Spoilers: "Loki" Season 1; "What If...?" Season 1; "i don't want to be saved" fanwork

Basic Warnings + Trigger Warnings: Shenanigans! Like in an OOC way i think?

AO3: Link

Master List || Previous Chapter

Frigg stood behind Loki, at a distance, and watched him interact with the mortal in need of assistance.

“A cat?” Loki sputtered. He spun on his heels and glared at his daughter. “This is my assignment? This is what you’re having me do?”

Frigg waved him off, offering no explanation. The plan was to keep that bit of information to herself until after Loki had completed an entire day of mundane, everyday hero tasks. She smiled at his distress about his assignment and leaned into the scepter, putting most of her weight on her right side.

“You’re enjoying this.” He mocked. He stared up the tree that the cat had scurried into hour earlier. “What’s the best way to go about this?” He glanced back at Frigg.

“You tell me, trainee.” She scrunched her nose and smiled. “You really only have two options. Non-magic and magic. Go from there.”

The mortal who had explained the situation to Loki stepped toward Frigg and crossed her arms. “You know, I feel bad for having to play pretend on this one. It’s one thing to live next to Steve and pretend to be a nurse, but this is just sad.”

Frigg nodded. “Well, it’s not very often that we, as superheroes, get calls for cats in trees. We have to make this up sometimes. And I think that’s the best start for Loki because he isn’t that good with people and you’re a professional agent. You can lie and you can handle him is he has an outburst.” She glanced over at Agent 22, despite her face being altered by the mask making her look like a civilian rather than the agent that Frigg has come to know, and lightly shrugged her shoulders. “That’s also not a cat, that’s Fury’s flerken, Goose. Goose is usually a sweetie.”

“That explains the mouth tentacles.” Agent 22 returned her attention to Loki who was using his magic to slowly approach the cat toward the top of the tree. “That isn’t the same flerken that took his eye, is it?”

“I believe so.” She said. She squinted up at Loki, trying to catch a glimpse at what he was doing and if he had reached the cat yet. “I hope Goose doesn’t try to beat up Loki.”

Agent 22 laughed. “Well, if that thing is as ruthless as you say…”

Frigg nodded and smiled. “Knock on wood. Oh, I think he’s got the flerken.” She peered up at Loki again. Her eyes widened at the sound of Goose hissing violently at Loki.

Loki yelped at the violent noise; he lost his concentration and came crashing down into the pavement. Goose landed on his chest and sauntered off of him toward Agent 22 and Frigg, rubbing up against both of them while narrowing his feline eyes at the God of Mischief.

“Well, that could have been worse.” Agent 22 muttered and scooped Goose up. “At least my precious Goose is alright.”

“Goose just needed a landing pad.” Frigg laughed. “Ah, are you alright down there?”

Loki slowly rolled onto his side and pushed himself up onto his knees. “How would you feel if you slammed into the pavement from that high?”

“Not the greatest.” Frigg inhaled through her teeth. “You’re a little bit more durable than most beings.” She sifted her weight back to both feet and slung her arm around the still standing scepter. She pulled an Avengers tablet out of a pocket dimension (she more than likely just opened a portal to the facility and yanked the tablet from Tony again). She logged in under her official credentials and opened up the training log for Loki. She checked off the ‘Cat Task’ and searched for something else that he could do in the same day.

Loki pulled himself to his feet. “I don’t think that was a cat.”

Agent 22 smiled at Frigg and Loki. “Thank you both.” She hurried away.

Frigg peered over her corrective lenses at Loki. “It was technically a flerken. He’s generally nonviolent.” She looked back down at the tablet in front of her. “A lot of these are going to be good deed acts; I want you to pick one.” She turned the tablet around and showed him the never-ending list of community service and good deeds.

He began skimming the list when a swarm of emergency vehicles drove past them. His head snapped in the direction that the emergency vehicles were headed. He quickly shoved the tablet into her chest and ran around the street corner to get an idea as to where they were headed.

“No, no, no, no. You’re not going to chase after them, you’re not prepared for Midgard emergencies!” Frigg followed him. “You don’t even know what the emergency is!” She grabbed at his leather coat, only to stumble forward because he had teleported himself early enough to evade being grabbed. She groaned and opened a small portal and tossed the tablet through it. She closed the portal and transported herself to the top of the nearest building in attempt to find her overly-eager-to-prove-himself father.

She spotted the vehicles a few blocks away from her; she slowly and worriedly floated toward the emergency. She landed just past the do-not-cross police barricade.

“Hey! You aren’t supposed to be this close!” One officer shouted.

“The structure is collapsing.” One officer said.

Distant chatter from remaining officers and firefighters turn into background noise.

“How many are still in there?” She asked quickly. “And did any wannabe heroes run inside?”

“One man ran inside.” The officer held his arms out.

Frigg looked around the officer. “That’s probably my idiot! Did he have mostly black and gold?” She pushed past the officer.

“That wasn’t Loki of Asgard, was it?” The officer asked.

She nodded. “Training to be an Avengers and this was not part of today’s itinerary.” She jogged up to the building but stopped and put up as many personal shields as she could before the burning building exploded. Many officers and fire fighters were still pushed back by the force of the explosion, Frigg herself was thrown back into the nearest firetruck.

She shook her head and looked up at the crumbling building. A fairly small figure jumped out of one of the third-floor windows with something in his arms. She flicked her arm out in his direction and encased him in a sheer green bubble; she brought them down slowly and released them once Loki’s feet touched the ground. Two shorter figures ran up to Loki and collected what was in his arms. The muttered their “thank you”s and were ushered away by paramedics on standby. Frigg stood up and brushed herself off as she walked toward her crazy old man.

“How was that for a good deed?” He asked.

“How was that?” She raised her voice slightly. “How was that? Absolutely insane. Reckless. You could’ve gotten yourself hurt and I have no doubt that pulled that stunt was bad for you, Frost Giant, I mean, look at what that did to you, you’re about as tall as me. Doing good things, saving lives, doing your part to preserve humanity isn’t about ‘look at me! I’m doing good things’! It’s about wanting to do good things, not recognition.” She smacked his arm.

Loki looked away from her. “What I did was out of line.” He paused and glanced over at the family he helped. “What would happen to those kids’ parents if I never went in and saved them?” He looked back at Frigg.

Frigg sighed in defeat. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. But running into a burning building is not something you and I can safely do, and you know this. You’ve got to get back to the Tower. Let the professionals finish up here, I’m begging you.”

Frigg pulled her horned helm away from her face, she turned it and stared at her reflection in the slim forehead covering. She looked back up and walked toward the freezer unit she and Tony had installed specifically for scenarios such as this one— Jötnar are not meant to be around intense heat, such temperatures can cause them to shrink rapidly, and that’s what happened to Loki. Had Frigg gone in after him, she would have suffered the same problem. Shrinking happens rapidly but recovering is rather… annoying.

While Loki was lock away in the freezer, Frigg was out leading her first Young Avengers “mission” in the skies (she was only in charge because Iron Heart and Iron Man were in Sokovia, Captain America’s protégé was in England with him, and Thor was off world). The defenses were left to Frigg, Kate Bishop, and Peter Parker (none of which wanted the responsibility of handling the situation called in by S.H.I.E.L.D., however with everyone gone there was little choice). With little time to call for more experienced Avengers, the three Young Avengers took it to the skies. Frigg teleported them into the middle of an all-out war between S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Skrull fugitives. Frigg shuddered at the image of Kate nearly plummeting to her death from the Heli-Carrier, and she would have too if she didn’t catch her quick enough. Peter wasn’t doing his best in the skies. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were dropping like flies, and they were outnumbered. She was overwhelmed with fugitives, and she thought herself to be a powerful witch; at the same time, she was the only one on the side of S.H.I.E.L.D. at had magic abilities, everyone else was more scientific or brute.

They were extremely uncoordinated. Kate, Peter, and Frigg don’t always work together and when they do it’s a chore for some reason. She feels like they don’t listen to her when she needs them to do something, and they didn’t. Frigg was frustrated with being ignored, maybe they could’ve succeeded had the two other Young Avengers listened! She felt like she was the only one defending the Heli-Carrier. They were lucky to walk away from that alive…

She knocked on the door to the freezer. “It’s just me, wanted to check in on you.” Her voice was soft and melancholy. “And let you out.”

“Come in.” Loki’s muffled voice was heard.

Frigg turned the heavy lock and pulled the door open. “You’re looking better than the other day.” She slowly placed her horned helm back on her head.

“And you look like you’ve had a rough day.” Loki rubbed his hands together.

Frigg nodded. “Well, I can’t wait to tell you about it some other time.” She rubbed the palm of her hand. “If you’re feeling all right, I’d like to take you to the training grounds and train for something a little more real. I mean, I know you really don’t have to, you’ve got plenty of years on me for that sort of thing, and you don’t even have to do that today. You’re just getting out of recovery and all.” She rambled.

“Slow down.” Loki chuckled. “Let’s just go back upstairs and do something that these mortals consider normal.” He suggested.

Frigg nodded. “Right, right. If that’s the case, I’ll just watch TV until I pass out.” She shrugged her shoulders and stepped away from the door.

Loki stepped out of the freezer and closed the large door behind him. “It was kind of you to have Stark make this for us.”

“Correction: I made it with his permission and resources. He put in the bare minimum.” She pointed finger guns at Loki. “That TV isn’t going to watch itself.”

“So, what exactly happened today.” Loki followed Frigg toward the elevator.

She widened her eyes on fear and cleared her throat. “I may or may not have almost gotten myself and two Young Avengers killed.” She slipped into the elevator and repeatedly slammed her fist against the ‘close doors’ button.

Loki stood dumbfounded for a moment and only reacted when the doors started to close without him in the elevator. “You did what?”

“I’m not a good leader. Or maybe I am and everyone else is bad at listening.” She said.

“This is what these mortals call a ‘Training Ground’?” Loki stared at the back of Frigg’s head in disbelief. “This is just a very large, closed in space. Above us is nothing more than a place for an audience. Is this a joke?” He asked.

Frigg shook her head and looked up at the plexiglass that Loki was referring to. “That’s the control room. An audience may be up there but for the most part, that room is to control what you see down here. This is the mortal equivalent of the Mutant Danger Room—same concept, endless possibilities of threats and scenarios to handle, displayed by drones with illusion tech and real impact. So, I do recommend not getting hit, it will hurt. It’s an in-door training ground and it’s used for individuals like us—magic, powerful, those who are considered to be too dangerous to train outside. Captain America and similar mortals have the luxury of outdoor training; however, I don’t believe that type of training it as enriching. What are you fighting out there anyway? A stick with a mans face taped to it. In here you have virtually any- and everything.” She placed her hands on her hips and walked toward the far end of the in-door training grounds. “What would you like to face?”

“I can pick anything?” Loki asked.

“In simple words, because clearly that’s what you need, anything is game.” She stood in front of the elevator that was just barely noticeable because the door panels did not match with the panels of the wall surrounding it. “From Thanos to myself, or even you. You could pick your very own father as a threat to handle. The choice is yours unless you want me to pick your challenge for you.” The doors behind her opened up and she took one large step into the elevator.

Loki crossed his arms. “Give me my attack on New York.”

Frigg nodded as the elevator doors closed. “Good luck.”

[loyally-unfaithful]

pairing: agatsuma zenitsu & hashibira inosuke — though it can be interpreted as pre-relationship

genre: crack (?)

prompt: “I can’t believe I’m sitting in a mall jail with you of all people” (23.) + modern!au

a/n: aaaaaaaaaaaa thank you 🥺🥺🥺

and thank u for requesting ! kinda nervous since this is the first request i’ve ever received haha,,, you didn’t specify a format ? so i wrote it in scenario/hc form—if that’s not what you wanted, you can send a message and i can turn it into a ficlet (Ф∀Ф )

edit: reposted because to my displeasure, this would not show up in the tags :(

« i can’t believe i’m sitting in mail jail with you, of all people… » zenitsu groaned, burying his face into his hands.

how did he even get into this situation in the first place?? how does inosuke always manage to rope him into doing some dumb, impulsive, potentially life-threatening shenanigans???

this was supposed to be a completely mundane, uneventful, trivial, everyday trip to the mall.

the pantry was starting to look rather sad and it was his turn to go grocery shopping, so he asked his flatmates if they wanted something while he’s at the shops and started organising his shopping list.

he doesn’t quite understand why tanjiro needed 20 pairs of cheap earphones, but he feels like he shouldn’t question it…

zenitsu hated shopping, absolutely abhors it. something about spending time in the supermarket with the monotonous droning of the cooling systems and the machines singing a duet with that same pop song put on repeat just drained the energy out of him. going shopping was just a drag.

but it was his turn, and he’ll get it done and over with.

everything was gonna be normal and ok.

as he made his way to the shops, he’d mentally pat himself down to check if he had everything on him and go through his list again.

keys? check.

wallet? check.

face-mask? check. (not because of corona, it’s just because it’s common courtesy in japan.)

mobile? check.

hotel? trivago.

inosuke? check.

wait inosuke?!

« wait inosuke?! what are you doing here??! » the blond shrieked in surprise, stopping dead on his tracks.

the loud young man would halt next to him and ask him if he’s gone blind/deaf as inosuke has been « following you since way before. »

now that zenitsu thinks about it, he did remember inosuke exclaiming something like being bored at home and wanting to tag along…

regardless, he doesn’t know if he’s more alarmed by the fact that he didn’t notice inosuke was trailing beside him this whole time or by the fact that the boisterous young man actually had it in him to be sneaky.

zenitsu grinned nervously, praying to whatever god or gods above that everything will be okay despite the human sized tornado he has with him…

even so, the shopping trip was characterised by more peripeteias and tribulations than it really should:

they haven’t even gotten near to the actual store within the mall and inosuke has  already tried to punt a 5 year old for apparently staring at the black haired man for too long.

zenitsu had to quickly defuse the situation and apologise the very alarmed mother and petrified child as inosuke stood still in his shadow, clutching the corner of the blond’s sweater and watched the interaction, not saying a word.

zenitsu grumbled something about dragging him into inosuke’s mess and returned to his walk to the market, inosuke still hanging on the blond’s sweater.

zenitsu’s mind is still boggled. why does tanjiro want 20 pairs of earphones…?

but he ignored this riddle and took inosuke’s hand in his, leading the both of them to the shops—the blond found it oddly endearing how there was such a juxtaposition of inosuke’s rough hand paired with how softly and carefully he’s returning the blond’s hold.

zenitsu allowed the warmth to ground him and, thankfully, they’ve soon made it to their destination safe and sound, without yet another disaster

the two would disperse once in the market, zenitsu collecting these 20 damn pairs of earphones and go down his list while inosuke ran off to god knows which aisle to go ham on the snacks.

the blond would casually shop when he’d hear hurried footsteps before a bunch of product was dumped in his cart. the raven-haired boy would then dash off again to repeat the cycle. the same cycle that has spooked zenitsu more than it should.

one time, zenitsu turned around to find two piercing blue eyes stare back at him. he swore his heart leapt out of his chest as he screeched at the uncannily realistic boar mask that greeted him.

zenitsu is still recovering from his mini heart attack while inosuke bursts into hysterical laughter at the blond’s ‘near-death’ experience.

the latter has just caught his breath when the energetic young man has run off yet again. zenitsu wants to know where the hell inosuke procured such a mask and who the hell put it there. it’s not even near halloween?? they’re literally in june???

when most of the items have been retrieved, zenitsu would window shop as he waits for inosuke to bring yet another armful of snacks. the blond’s current preoccupation was a hair trimmer. should he buy it? his hand hovers as he reaches out, but then halts it to slowly retract it back. he looks at the hair trimmer again… his dilemma. then again it looks scary, maybe he shouldn’t… his gordian knot.

deciding that buying the item would be pointless, the blond looked around. inosuke hasn’t returned in a while…

it seemed that inosuke had already grabbed everything he wanted, and soon found himself bored in a quiet and empty supermarket—boredom and an empty mall: a couple made in hell, a recipe for disaster.

the quieter of the two has started to make his way to the till when he heard a large crash. he silently hopes it has nothing to do with him or the person he brought with him. but of course it did.

inosuke had dived into one of those ball racks near the toy aisle, the rack itself not looking as upright as it should and its content having spilt all over the place.

zenitsu just… takes one look and pretends not to see it.

he just

walks away

so close yet so far. the blond has managed to reach the cash register and has started unloading the contents of his cart when he sees inosuke with his own.

they make eye contact.

zenitsu knows what he’s gonna do.

the black haired man puts one foot on the empty cart.

the blond slowly shakes his head, half trying to tell him to not do it because it’s fucking stupid and half pleading him to not cause more trouble.

inosuke eyes contained a determination and resolve that not even god can stop.

almost like watching an accident in slow motion, zenitsu watched, petrified, as inosuke yeets himself on the cart and send it speeding down the aisle with more force and a higher velocity than what was considered safe.

surprisingly, or unsurprisingly, zenitsu hears a loud crash and a noise that sounded like a potato sack was thrown on the floor—and he was sure he didn’t just hear it because of his sensitive ears.

abandoning his own groceries, he ran off to join inosuke, who laid by a couple of soup cans, some still rolling anyway somewhere—the stand that held them and the splash zone surrounding area having been reduced to chaos.

the young man was comically strewn upside down on his upper back, his lower half flopping over and folding into himself.

ok ooc, but i suck at anatomy but suck even more at describinf so here’s an artistic depiction of how zenitsu found inosuke

ok bye bye sorry for bothering you

« inosuke what…?!! i— are you literally dumb? »

the boarheaded young man just shook off his injuries and righted himself, unfazed, as zenitsu continued his yapping and rambling.

« monitsu..

– what?! zenitsu stopped midword in his lecture, having long stopped bothering to correct inosuke.

– monitsu, run. inosuke finished as he rushed to make a quick dash. »

zenitsu was just sat there, stunned, when he felt an ominous presence behind him.

he slowly turned his head around to delay the inevitable, offering a nervous and fearful grin to the shadow hovering behind him.

with a pathetic expression and an even more pitiful shriek, he was dragged into the mall security office by a guard as another security member chased after the other young man.

despite having run like a bat out of hell, inosuke soon joined zenitsu in the mall jail.

« i can’t believe i’m sitting in mail jail with you, of all people… » zenitsu echoed, having dragged his palm down to cover his mouth.

he sat immobile waiting for inosuke’s apology, or maybe any sign of repentance.

he waited.

and waited some more.

« at least try to pretend you’re sorry?!? » the blond gaped in disbelief.

« huh? why? » inosuke just turned around to look at zenitsu blankly. « it was your fault we got caught anyway… »

the blond’s immediate reaction was to retort and argue but swallowed down his arguments. he’s fighting a losing battle.

snapping his mouth shut, he sulked in his own corner as the two waited for tanjiro to collect them.

he sighed, it was… embarrassing. but it didn’t really matter that much at the end of the day: inosuke would probably forget most of the incident within 20 minutes of being freed, and zenitsu just doesn’t find it in him to be mad forever. especially at inosuke.

did zenitsu ever mention he absolutely detests going grocery shopping?

LIKE MY WORK? CONSIDER BUYING ME A COFFEE // CHECKING OUT MY MASTERLIST | LINKS CAN BE FOUND ON MY DESC

[olivia-lovecraft]

Not going on anon for this. What would it take for Olivia to swear off warlockery // What is one life choice she would change // Best kind of shoe

I have been thinking a lot about this, so I am going to answer the first two OoC!

What would it take for Olivia to swear off warlockery?

Olivia would turn from the path of ‘Warlockery’ in a heartbeat if she discovered it wouldn’t help her achieve her goals. She would never fully turn her back on witchcraft, but her mother’s path was one of the hearth witch, so blessing and warding homes, use of magic in mundane and medical tasks, that sort of thing. She has been studying it over the last year, but it far overshadowed by her warlock-y shenanigans.

A potential storyline I have been sketching out for her, though, is one that could potentially put her back on course to become a priestess. Naturally, she would still be drawn to shadow and void, but her entire direction would change. The idea would be pursuit of eternal life, while devoting her life to becoming a shield rather than a poisoned dagger.

Mind you, this is not a complete concept. It is simply something I have been considering behind the scenes.

What is one life choice she would change?

This question has come up in the past, and Olivia, when answering IC, goes on about the importance of not yielding to regret. She often states that she has no regrets, even if she is lying to herself, and will say there is nothing she would want to change.

But that is a lie.

Recently, with the pain of Dar’thea’s fate and the loss of Sophia, Olivia has started to ponder the wisdom in loving demons. Dar’thea is still very important to Olivia, and she is sort of hooked and can’t go back. However, in a moment of weakness, she did confess that she wished she could go back in time and turn from the Warlock path entirely. She would have had no predisposition for caring about the fate of demons, and she would have saved herself heartache.

Now, I don’t know if she would truly make this choice on a good day, but I wanted to apply it to the question, because I can almost feel Latilda looking smug about it. I say that with all the love, since, I know Latilda offers a lot of fuel for thought, even if it didn’t hit home with the characters it should have.

Best Shoes? (IC)

“You absolutely cannot go wrong with a pair of heeled ankle boots. They have more support than typical heeled shoes and they come in a variety of styles,” Olivia grinned. “However, if you mean to ask about something ‘practical’ I most certainly go for a pair of lovingly worn leather boots.”

[ Thank you for the ask, @latildarommel! ]

[scoutxselkies]

Hello everyone, I’m Beanie & it’s absolutely wonderful to meet you all! I’m very excited to bring this Walmart Deadpool  muse to the roleplay! Under the cut, you’ll find some background information and character traits about Scout. Who’s ready for clone shenanigans, lost fingers regenerating in cafeteria chili, and zany mutant antics!?! :D

| B A C K G R O U N D |

🚑 Fellow mutants from the compound may know her as Seventeen, a nickname she stubbornly gave herself to draw attention to the cloning program she was created from. There were sixteen other clones deemed “successes” to varying degrees. However, each had been relocated to organ harvesting tanks once they were made obsolete by the creation of a superior clone. 

🚑  Scout's project was an intended blueprint for future super soldiers, and thus she’s been combat trained to her limits. Not only could she totally give John Wick a wedgie, but she’s an excellent marksman and can march like nobody’s business. The program convinced her to strive for high performances by stating if she remained an “important asset”, then she would not be replaced by future clones. However, she realized years later that the scientists had lied to her. 

🚑 Scientists improved the regenerative healing factor with each clone. Scout’s mutation is the most advanced they’ve produced yet, but the near-immortality comes with multiple drawbacks that scientists hoped to eradicate with the next batch of clones. Her younger clone, whom she calls Eighteen, is still trapped inside the compound. 

🚑 Eighteen is a mere, nine year-old girl innocent to the bleak future of all clones and is often seen carrying a Mr. Potato Head toy. Since her grand unveiling, the scientists have pitted her against Scout in hopes a rivalry will encourage both their mutation’s development. Scout instead began exhibiting a protective, sisterly attitude that disappointed her creators. She preferred keeping Eighteen ignorant to the specifics of their future within the program, and was cautious never to misplace her anger upon Eighteen.

🚑 Scout was aware that the program couldn’t cause her permanent harm -- at least, not while she hadn’t been categorized as obsolete. No matter how gruesome the experiments or harsh her training, she knew that her mutation would keep her alive. Living a life of little consequence caused her to develop a facetious sense of humor that targeted scientists, guards, and her fellow inmates on the daily. She’s hardly ever serious, much to the dismay of others, and has repeatedly treated Thalia Kim’s endeavors like a joke. Scout occasionally cheered up Eighteen with trouble-making antics. Apart from that, her shenanigans were mostly for her own amusement and the only form of rebellion she could exhibit without jeopardizing her standing as an important asset. 

🚑🚑🚑 tldr; local clone with john wick-tier combat skills & marksmanship lived under constant threat of being replaced by newer, improved clones. being deemed obsolete would mean a semi-conscious immortal life of floating in an organ harvesting tank. copes with stress, fear, and the sensation that nothing matters by being kinda a dick.

| P O W E R S | 

🚑 for this blatant wanda wilson audition, i have given her deadpool powers

🚑 REGENERATIVE HEALING FACTOR: The ability to heal and regenerate oneself, even from life-threatening injury or presumed death. I think I wrote out her strengths and weaknesses best on her application, so I’ll drop a link to that HERE !!!

🚑 She relied on a specially designed painkiller while living in the compound to manage her pain, one of the drawbacks of her ability, and is running low on supply.

| L I F E  ON  THE  O U T S I D E | 

🚑 She escaped during the summer breakout three months ago, and is currently rooming with a reformed thief serving his final days of house arrest. Gilbert was seasoned criminal, occasionally rendezvousing with the band of villains when their needs intertwined. Scout’s presence technically break one of the terms of his deal: no unauthorized visitors allowed. 

🚑 Gilbert was the one who came up with the nickname “Scout”; he caught her intruding in his house, rummaging through his pantry & eating his stock of Girl Scout Cookies. 

🚑 Since her escape, she’s become quite fond of reality television (she’s a member of Bachelor Nation 😎 ), gummy candy snacks (Gushers and Trolli 4 life), and generally feeling entitled to having fun. 

🚑 Scout avoids involvement with mutant politics and infighting, choosing instead to live an ordinary, civilian life that’s as mundane as possible. This is a final act of rebellion against her creators: the seemingly wasting of her mutation’s gift of near-immortality. Between her bouts of stubbornness, however, she grapples with questions about her existence, her purpose being alive, and cyclical guilt about her mutation.

| C O O L  R A N C H  P L O T  I D E A S |

🚑 I don’t have any preset plots for her at the moment, but I’d love to brainstorm, check out everyone’s plot pages, & reply to a bunch of open starters to see how things develop organically! If you have any plots in mind or think Scout would fill a good wanted connection for your muse, NEVER FEEL SHY ABOUT MESSAGING ME~! <3 <3 <3 I promise I’m super friendly & am ALWAYS down to get #lit with character angst & silliness! :D :D :D I PROMISE THAT I’M JUST A BIG MEME!

🚑 I’m working on a premade plot page for her, and will probably post a link to it OOC once it’s ready! Until then...check me spying on all your muse blogs & sneaking into your DMs with plot bunnies! ;D

[unkiindness]

Like this if you want to continue to rp with me.  I’m mostly on discord.  If we’re mutuals feel free to ask me for a friend request! :D / 

[elxfi-archived]

@skyvar 

ohhh!!! thank u for giving me the pleasure to know bout the actual situation and especially the what if situation!!! much appreciated, considering such thing had not happened yet (and if, unknown) that a shinigami & arrancar got a child, that sure must spike some ppl’s interest (ichigo certainly had aizen RIP) so its nice to see that in this scenario, she would take more drastic measurements Good mom!

[You’re welcome! Thank you for asking and taking interest!  While this situation was entirely unplanned by them (and something they hadn’t even considered as a possibility) both Chiyo & Starrk just want what’s best for their children. I can’t see a scenario where they wouldn’t make every effort possible to keep them safe. Chiyo was definitely BIG worried about her captain when she first found out she was pregnant. Even now, she’s worried about her children being looked at as a ‘spectacle’ or being gawked at. They fully intend to raise them rather secluded from the Seireitei & prying eyes & are going to be conscious of who comes in contact with them during their formative years.]

[nelrunari]

❖ And the Dream calls: Calista Vallin.

Character Name: Calista Vallin

Pronouns: She/Her

Age: 28

Trigger Warnings: cult / human sacrifice / body horror / eye horror / war

Appearance: ( click me fellas you’re not gonna regret )

HEIGHT: 5’8”

EYE COLOR: amber (visible), blue/gold/pink (under the eyepatch)

HAIR: brown, with a subtle auburn touch. wears it loose and over the left shoulder

BUILD: toned, but still retaining some softness to it. resembles an hourglass shape

NOTABLE FEATURES: freckles (cheeks, nose & shoulders); an eyepatch made of purple scales covering the left eye; three eyes underneath the eyepatch

Personality:

EARNEST; Spare sunshine? It’s impossible to get a reaction from her that isn’t anything but genuine.

FEARLESS; When you’ve been through hell and few are the things that can scare you, Calista has the determination of a true adventurer, never backing down from a challenge, no matter how mundane it might be. She’s not afraid of taking risks or trying new things in general.

LOYAL; Congratulations, you have befriended Calista Vallin! Calista will now DIE for you.

ENIGMATIC; Some secrets are safer played close to the chest. She doesn’t actively lie, but omits details in order to ensure a relaxed atmosphere. The last thing she’d want is for others to fuss over her. Stay around long enough and you’ll soon feel that something looms around her.

SELF-DESTRUCTIVE; When selflessness and insecurity teams up and beats the shit out of you behind a denny’s. Calista has a low sense of self-worth, jaded from previous experiences; it’s a fruit of survivor’s guilt and fear of not being the figure she dreams of.

OVERACHIEVER; Haunted by her father’s atrocities, she works thrice as hard to ensure her region has a bright face and good reputation. She tries too hard, though.

All things considered, it’s a miracle Calista turned out to be such a forgiving and kind person. She’s honest, and sometimes comes across as blunt to ensure her point has been made. Grudges? She’s never heard of them; it takes a lot to make someone like her hold a grudge. Being an advocate of self-indulgence Calista loves throwing parties, and though she’s not always there you can be certain she helped organize it. As a result of her upbringing, Calista is a justice enthusiast, and doesn’t mind bending the law/turning a blind eye in order to deliver it; her silence cannot be bought and you’re going to regret trying to bribe her.

Background:

Calista is the youngest daughter of Fayt Vallin, the region’s previous Guildmaster. Along with her mother and two older siblings, Maribella and Gustav, they lived quite the perfect life in the tropical lands of Canicula. Quite perfect, but all thanks to Fayt’s impeccable ways of keeping secrets locked down.

For over thirty years Fayt managed a cult dedicated to studying the omnipresent and omnipotent deity known as the Redeemer. Adoration turned into obsession through the years, genuine curiosity when faced with dead ends turned into desperation. The fear of losing followers and support soon steered Fayt into a path of corruption and greed, it turned him into someone who would do anything to obtain power.

It all happened right under the Vallin’s roof, deep in the chambers underneath the mansion. The use of dark magic, countless failed experiments and human sacrifices through the years allowed Fayt to came up with a formula to obtain the Redeemer’s powers. Three untainted souls and a seal that would ensure their safety and provide a path back to this world.

However, by the time of this discovery he was labeled as crazy and hopeless, and lost a great amount of support for both sacrifice providers and monetary. And so, he would provide the sacrifices himself.

Three untainted souls, a seal, and a ritual performed by the remaining members of the Cult. Fayt sent his own child into what could only be described as hell, a trip which only Calista returned from. The ritual would’ve been a complete failure if not for Calista’s success.

The power is overwhelming. As is the echoing of familiar voices within her head consuming her consciousness, it sends her in a rampage. Annihilation is the Cult’s aftermath.

She can’t remember.

The Guildmaster of Auris, moved by the child’s struggles, takes Calista under her wing. Offering not only a second chance in life, but the necessary training to make her skilled enough to become a Guildmaster, should she wish so. The cold is unbearable and the training is excruciating, all while firmly believing she shouldn’t be alive, doubting her humanity, identity and whatnot. The only sense of comfort through those twelve years coming from the safety of having a guardian that treated Calista like the child she never had.

It is with unwavering resolve and a sense of responsibility that no 17 year old should have that Calista takes on the duty of Guildmaster.

She had to make things right. She had to give these people what her father couldn’t.

Memento: 

Auresque, Calista’s war ax. It’s made of bronze and adorned in gold; it looks heavy (because…it’s really heavy). Between the blades rests a little chamber where she carries enchanted water to fuel her healing enchantments.

Natural Abilities: 

n/a she’s just a strong human!

Power History:

WATER MAGIC; Elemental magic. Though some venture into using it offensively, it is more commonly used for supporting roles. In order to master this art one is required to memorize a ridiculous amount of spells and always have a portion of enchanted water on your person at all times; knowing the spells won’t help you without the water.

SUPPORT: Depends on one’s knowledge on the matter. Being proficient grants one the ability of healing any sort of physical wound that wasn’t inflicted by an entity. It does not heal the soul’s wounds.

OFFENSIVE: Usually a last resort. Just like healing, it responds to spells and its purposes are rather vast. Water Whips ( self explanatory. up to 6 at once ), Bounding Shackles ( restrains the target’s ankles and/or wrists. up to 4 at once ), and Icicle Spears ( they can frostbite if held onto for too long. )

MISC WATER SPELLS; Calista has developed water spells shenanigans solely for her own enjoyment. Such as: sparkly/rainbow/neon colored water spells, they do nothing but look aesthetically pleasing! They can anf will dye your tongue.

SOUL CURSE; The aftermath of Fayt’s ritual. Calista’s soul is an amalgamation consisted of three souls that once belonged to her sister, Maribella, and her brother Gustav. Besides affecting her personality and mood, the curse grants immense power that she chose to never harness. It prevents her from falling ill, she cannot get drunk or poisoned; the curse absorbs it all. However, all these benefits come with the high price of a shorter lifespan.

EYEPATCH SEAL: Created by Areta herself. It’s stitched into the eyepatch, and greatly helps keeping Calista stable.

Extra:

Pinterest board

❖ Nelrunari Section ❖

Ward: Chimestone

Player Tag: Here

❖ OOC Section ❖

Name/Alias: Mal

Contact: @calistavallin - twitter

Age: 26

Pronouns: She/Her

[llagerstatte]

4, 24, 25! :)

4. Huddling together for warmth

I am here for huddling of any kind, but when it’s necessary? When the characters are desperately cold and needy and there’s just a touch of pain, and the literal reality that touching the other person, holding them close, will make that pain go away, will ward away the dangerous, protect the both of them? I AM HERE WITH FUCKING BELLS ON.

Don’t think I’ve ever written it. I really should. Something where one character has or is close to getting hypothermia and the other has to quickly warm them up, oh yeah. And the first character is slightly delirious and struggling a bit and the second has to hold them still and pinned up against their body.

24. Telepathic soulbonding

Wait, how is telepathic soulbonding different from normal soulbonding? Are bonded characters telepathically connected?This has a lot of potential! Though I’d be mostly here for the plot and how it can work in different scenarios and environments rather than pure relationship shenanigans. I love the idea of soulbonding not because two people are ~the perfect match~ but because of dubcon or codependency going too far. Unhealthy relationships fuck yeah!

Again, haven’t written this. It’d be fun to play with something like, hm, it happens in some kind of desperate required-to-do-this-to-survive scenario and then having to live with the consequences afterwards. Because being telepathically soulbound to someone doesn’t sound too great to me, haha. Unless it’s a very easily controlled telepathy? But all the unwillingly shared secrets, and the forced (mental) proximity, and yessss if maybe one character was in serious danger or injured and the other could only feel echos of their pain and was in a panic trying to find them, contact them, and getting nothing…

25. Circus AU

Honestly, I have no strong feelings about circuses. I think I may have gone to one when I was a small child? I know they exist but that’s about it. I have zero clue what would even happen in this. Characters have different jobs in the circus? Like other mundane AUs that force characters into very specific jobs that are nothing at all like their canon jobs or roles or anything really about what they want, it’d be hard, I think, to not get at least a little OOC.

Terrible answer, sorry.

[unkiindness]

So, I got iced tea on my keyboard.  Uh… I haven’t been able to write or work much on my blogs.  I can’t type with the left side of my keyboard, and I hate typing on my iPad.