#Of Everlasting || Dante

[pathomannia]

[soracities]

About once a week the world smiles at me so wide I can’t bear to look at it– suddenly there is so much light everywhere I fear I will go blind. Maybe it’s the way a stranger says excuse me while slipping by a crowd, the magpie hopping along next to the train tracks, the little bats fluttering around at sundown. I don’t know what it is but the sudden realization that I am alive & the earth is often kind. Isn’t that marvelous? How strange it is to open your eyes to another fresh morning & knowing you can start over at any point

Dante Émile, from "Listening to The Mountain Goats while on public transport"

[justv0id]

DP+HEADCANONS

I was browsing through some posts when I found this picrew and thought "Hey, I really like Vall's DC headcanons (or at least Batfamily's), so why don't I make a Danny Phantom headcanons post to match?"

So here we are.

To begin with, let's establish the Everlasting Trio because there's no way, very iconic and wonderful together, and a pinch of Ghost King/Prince Danny.

With this, I like to think that, cuz they're always so close to Danny, before and after the right to the throne, Sam and Tucker, being exposed to the strooong ectoplasm he emits, would become even more liminal than the others Amity Parkers, this with the help of Tucker being the reincarnation of Duulaman and Sam being the heir to Undergrowth (I feel disgusted every time I remember what he did to her in the episode, cuz, personal trauma, so I refuse to accept this canon and that's why in my head he was actually pampering her the whole time to be able to convince her to be his daughter).

Because of this liminality and Danny's strong ectoplasm, they would develop powers and/or the powers they kind of already have of their own would become stronger.

I like to think that with this their appearance would change a little, Danny by the power of Ghost King/Prince and Sam and Tucker by liminality, just some subtle changes but they are noticeable, like for example, pointy ears! (I love the "Danny the elf" thing and yes, I'm going to drag Sam and Tucker into this, nothing will stop me! Except Vall definitely maybe- BUT- but, he likes it too so it's okay).

So, like, I don't think it will change much whether the DP and DC universes are the same or not in your view, but they could be considered metas or aliens or magical creatures(?) to someone outside, it depends a lot on their aura I think.

And you know, as much as I may love the concept of Jack and Maddie "giving up" on their obsession for their son, their beloved child and becoming/triyng to be better parents, I'm kind of corrupted already, you know?

The bad reveal is a classic in this fandom already and sometimes I even find myself like " 🤡🤨😒" when I go to read a fic and it has the tag "Good Reveal" or "Good Parents Jack and Maddie Fenton" which is honestly kinda VERY CONCERNING if you think about it-

But anyway, if there is revelation, it's bad, very bad, vivissection and all.

Also as much as I like a redeemed Vlad, I also like to see him have all the shit he put Danny through come back to him. You know, IT IS CALLED KARMA, YOU BITCH!

Ahem ahem, pardon :)

But for Dan case, oh my boy, I want him to have redemption, I want him to cling to this little drop of a person that is Dani and to do therapy with Jazz. Besides the sparrings with Danny, obviously.

Coming back now, where am I going with this? Bad Revelation, Revenge on Vlad and Dan redeemed? Of course it's the crossover part!

Anyway, then, a mentally exhausted Danny from school fights Vlad, but thanks to the new strength that comes with the right to the ghost throne and Sam and Tucker's new powers (Which I think everyone agrees that for Sam it's like Poison Ivy-style power but to a greater degree not only affecting plants but animals as well, and for Tucker being powers based on those Pharaoh and mummies stuff and such and the classic technokinesis!) he FINALLY manages to trap Vlad in the Thermos, Tucker quickly seals this blessed Thermo in the base of welding and then Danny throws it in Walker's prison.

And then, now tired mentally and physically, he goes home, but oops! he didn't pay attention because of tiredness and got caught in the middle of transformation! And then the basic chase before he is captured and imprisoned in the lab.

But gosh, just his torture (which lasts a long time because Jazz is out busy with... eh, I don't know, and Sam and Tucker are worried and looking, but they are a little far away) wasn't enough, they caught Dani, and he started to despair, because there's no way he's going to let dad and mom Jack and Maddie touch his daughter little sister, but he can't move, can't do anything, and then they catch Dan, and Danny still can't do anything to help them, trying to draw attention to himself doesn't work (Hehe classic angst my dears).

Dani and Dan are so badly hurt by the Fenton doctors that they retreat into the cores, but since the cores are practically indestructible, and the Fentons have never even come close to studying one, their weapons don't work and don't hurt them. So the attendant is back with Danny.

But then Jazz, Tucker and Sam break into the lab to rescue the three Dannies, barely getting out while Jazz stays to slow them down. Some time ago, they managed to close the portal that was in the Fentons' basement and prevent it from working again, so Sam and Tucker have to race with the Dannies to Vlad's portal (I don't remember exactly what happened when he became president of Amity Park, but I'm going to say that he moved the portal to the city with him for pure plot convenience) but when they are about to go through, the doctors arrive, and then there is a small conflict until Jazz manages to push the trio into the portal and destroys it, but in an inadequate way, thus also destroying their home dimension (Yey more angst)

Sam and Tucker then go to CW to seek help. He cures Danny, or at least about 60% because he says he needs to cure the rest himself for his own good, and that unfortunately Dani and Dan won't be able to leave their cores anytime soon if they aren't incubated. So, stop! Danny is pregnant and then CW puts them in the DC universe, it can be in Gotham or anywhere else they want, it doesn't matter, the only thing that matters is that now they will live there together.

And that's where that Picrew I mentioned comes in, since I made the appearances of the Everlasting Trio+Twins Dani and Dan+Surprise for an AU like this.

For me, they arrived in Gotham right around the time Bruce was starting to come out as Batman or when Jason was Robin, I can't decide. But anyway, the fact is, they are in a new universe with Danny at his literal 60% carrying two cores with him, so when they discover more about this world a little with their powers, they decide to be discreet, and even with that, they also let themselves be registered as metahumans to avoid problems if they use their powers, but of course in the records the written powers are much simpler and weaker than the real thing.

Anyway, I think they would all work at WE but in different sectors (obviously), or have independent or simple businesses or something like that.

Now let's move on to appearances!

first of all, Daniel James Shade "Danny" Fenton Nightgale

Here as you can see, Danny has a lighter eye because of the incident, if there was an option for a lightning scar in the picrew I would also put it, this lighter eye of his only has about 75% of the vision.

You have to wear a single lens in that eye, he may not wear it, but it is inconvenient most of the time.

His hair is longer, and yes, I gave him the anime dead mom hairstyle, sue me. His hair used to be black, but over time, because of his great power, and the fact that his ghostly side is bleeding into his human form, his hair has turned about 70 to 80% white. Sam and Tucker like it, Sam says it's cool and Tucker says he remembers some anime character but can't remember who (😉)

The necklace and earring are a set he has with Sam and Tucker.

Piercing just because.

Makeup done by Sam, but is learning.

He also renounces his birth middle and surname, changing them as soon as he could. He only doesn't change his name because he got used to it (of course he did) and cause he learned from Jazz that she was the one who suggested his name.

Nightgale is a name that the Trio invented together and use, so as not to get too big with the three two surnames together.

He is called "Mama" by the children. And "D" and "Darling" by Sam and Tucker.

He/them

Samantha Ingrid "Sam" Nightgale

As I said, necklace and earrings are a set.

Piercing just because.

She dyed her hair completely purple, but after a while the liminal side of her powers also bled into her form, so now there's green in it, Danny likes it and says it's pretty, Tucker likes it too, but he also calls her eggplantie cuz of it tho-

And as always, she is gothic, and now, she does makeup for others with the help of [surprise, wait a little longer]

She is called "Mom" by the children. And "Sammy" and "Honey" by Tucker and Danny.

She/her

Tucker Rick "Tuk" Nightgale

Braided and colored hair, Sam did the braids and Danny helped pick the color.

Piercing just because.

Again, the necklace and the earrings are a set.

I made up the middle name because I couldn't find it anywhere.

Now he wears lenses more regularly than glasses.

Makeup done with Sam's help, he knows how to do it himself but normally when he makes lines like that he can't replicate them, but Sam can.

He is called "Dad" by the children. And "Tuk" and "Babe" by Sam and Danny.

He/him

Dante Ruth "Dan" Nightgale

Because he was incubated by Danny, he was born with white hair.

He has no memories of before, but he vaguely has some deja vus, his personality remains practically 98% the same.

He is quite influenced by Sam, that's why he dyed his hair her colors.

Piercing just because.

He still has a clear eye with 75% vision because it is a mark on his and Danny's core from the incident.

He helps Sam with the makeup with [surprise, wait just a little longer]

Glasses because you don't really like the idea of using a single lens on your eye, so you prefer glasses with two lenses of different degrees, it's more comfortable.

He is called "Dan", "Dandan" and "Dear". And also "Big brother" and "Bro".

He/him

Eleanor Dawn "Ellie" Nightgale

No problem with the eye because was born a halfa even though she was a clone cuz she didn't had to die and revive to, so there is no mark on the core.

Born with white hair because she was incubated by Danny.

Like Dan, he has no exact memories of the past, just deja vus, and his personality has remained largely intact.

He is more influenced by Tucker, so he dyed his hair his color.

Piercing just because.

They wears sunglasses almost all the time, even at night, because 1) she likes them, 2) he feels cool, 3) they wanna have something in common with Dante.

Makeup done by Dan.

When it's "she" she goes by the nickname "Ellie", when it's "he or they" he goes by the nicknames "Dawn" and "Noir", Dawn more commonly, but Noir is when he's with Dan, so as not to confuse the two. But she is also nicknamed "Little sister", "Big sister" and "Sis". And "Muffin".

She/him/they

And finally....THE SURPRISE!

Jordan Ezra Mary "Ez" Nightgale

They was born from Sam, and just biologically speaking, the father is Tucker.

But

They are more influenced by Danny :)

Heterochromia because I want.

There's no way he could remember before since she didn't even exist, but she likes the stories of her dad, mom and mama's chaotic adolescence.

Piercing just because.

They dyed their hair pink because they really likes the color very much.

Glasses because they inherited the short-sighted from Tucker and doesn't like contact lenses very much.

Do the makeup with Sam and Dan to the others.

She is called "Ez" and "Ezzie", and also "Little Sister" and "Sis". And "Sweetheart".

They/her

And that's it! I chose for the Trio to arrive between Batman's first year and Robin's time! Jason so that the children would already be born when Damian's time as Robin arrived cuz of shenanigans. :D

Like, just imagine if Ezra becomes friends with Damian, to the point of knowing about his family's night business, or already knows. And then some typical problem happened with a being from another dimension and when Dami vents to them, Ez is like "Oh my daddy can help you!"

And instead of them bringing a sorcerer or warlock or wizard like everyone thought it would be, Ezra brings the FUCKING DAMN HIGH KING OF THE INFINITE REALMS.

@valletydarwin here, a gift, ya can name the AU 🖤💜

The picrew

[mnstcrbnll]

[ btw before pride ends. hi ]

[kcuf-ad]

Misogynist: Exists.

Magna 'Catch These Hands' Swing: I THINK THE FUCK NOT!

[mkarchin713]

Ahem-

Alfred knows all about Danny’s powers and titles.

Alfred told Danny the second Bruce came home and has been keeping Danny updated on his activities (Danny now thinks vigilantism may be genetic)

Danny decides not to tell Bruce about the ghost thing until Bruce tells Danny about the Bat thing.

Danny also decides not to tell Bruce he’s was in a polycule with Thomas and Martha (and Alfred and Sam and Tucker) until Bruce admits SuperWonderBat is canon (along with Bruce/Talia/Selina)

Danny found Thomas and Martha’s ghosts. Martha somehow fused with Lady Gotham and Thomas looks like some kind of traffic light colored gargoyle/bird thing with glowing gold eyes (later patron Saint of Robins and Talons). It takes them awhile to figure out how to replicate their living forms and they don’t want to scare little Brucie so they stick around but invisibly.

Martha and Thomas cannot leave Gotham city limits in the living realm so cannot follow Bruce.

They too agree with Danny on the “no ghost till bat”discussion but take to helping out Bruce and their grandchildren in little ways that help grow the Bats = Cryptids legends.

Bruce learns he is not Thomas biological son when Bane takes an entire gala hostage and demands a DNA test to prove once and for all that Thomas is his father (he’s not but Bane didn’t know that). This leads to a lot of Wayne Wannabe’s coming out of the woodwork(some genuinely believe Thomas could be their father. Others are just stupid). Bruce begins to have “what if I do have a sibling” thoughts when Alfred (with everyone’s permission) sits Bruce down and tells him that Thomas was infertile and his biological father was a family friend who volunteered to help Thomas and Martha have a child (he decides not to mention it was a literal 50/50 chance Alfred could have been Bruce’s Father but since no SuperWonderBat confirmation = no Wayne polycule confirmation he says nothing).

Bruce bring Batman quickly determined the “Family Friend” could only be Danny and confronts him

What happens next is up to you

New Au: Bruce Wayne née Fenton:

DP x DC AU:

Thomas Wayne is a doctor, right? Anyway Danny Fenton is studying medicine so he can better help/protect Dani and her clone bros in case they destabilize again. The thing is that Danny and Thomas look exactly alike so much that they could be mistaken for twins, save a few features.

Danny befriends him and they get along swimmingly.

(Danny is generally a good person, Gotham, welcomes the extra help and energy he provides for the city. He becomes known as the Angel of Gotham, and Bruce’s favorite hero the Grey ghost was inspired by his acts.)

He introduces him to a pre-pregnant Martha Wayne and they also get along very well, until tragedy strikes.

Thomas is infertile and or most of his sperm lead to miscarriages. Due to the pressure of the public, parents and age, Thomas asks Danny if he could help them out so to speak. (Alternatively, I would like it if they were a polycule. Also Alfred knows. To avoid scandal as well, since Danny and Thomas look so similar.)

A few months later, Bruce Wayne is born to the happy couple’s delight and Danny only asks if he could be the boy’s uncle or godfather.

Danny spends the next few years visiting the family in between taking care of the Infinite realms. Then tragedy strikes again, and Bruce is an orphan, Danny comes a few days later thinking everything is okay, when it’s not. He is devastated to find out that his friends are dead and decides to help Alfred raise the boy.

(Afterwards he goes to their graves and promises he’ll do what he can to help raise their son, not realizing that their spirits are right behind him, thanking him.)

The years go by and Bruce grows up relatively normal.

(One night Danny tucks him into bed, and Bruce tirelessly says thank you dad. Danny overhears this and is struck with grief as he knows his true birthright, but thinks it’s for Thomas.)

When Bruce disappears to train to become the Batman, Danny and Alfred both panic as neither can find him. They decide to continue as normal with Danny visiting Alfred sometimes.

(During this time Danny helps with Gotham, brings food to the circus acts that come to town, helps abused women get on their feet from their husbands, helps street kids get better shelter, food, water, helps at the hospital when they need it, even helps give birth to a baby Drake, etc..)

When Bruce comes back to Gotham, Danny is nowhere to be found or at least hasn’t been to the Manor in a few months. That gets put on the backburner as he now is the Dark knight and has to help Gotham.

(Danny is on vacation with his kids and their aunt.)

Side note: Bruce doesn’t really have powers, just his limits are a lot higher than normal, ie:

Slight super strength, some floating = gliding, advanced healing but not by much, higher tolerance to pain and slight invisibility = camouflage with the shadows. If Bruce got more ecto energy than maybe he might develop, but it is unlikely.

Two situations where Bruce confronts his birth father:

1- Justice league needs to summon a ghost specialist as something supernatural is afoot. They summon Phantom as he is seen as a friendly guide to spirits, shades, etc.…

The moment Danny locks eyes with Batman he rushes straight out of the summon circle and goes to hug Batman. Everyone is confused as they thought he would attack, but he is just scolding Batman for disappearing without leaving a note for him and A. Batman is confused as he doesn’t recognize him and Phantom asks if there is anyone he trusted with his identity.

Basically Superman and Wonder Woman stay as Danny de-transforms and now Bruce recognizes him.

2- The bat family have died a lot, and so one day, Bruce gets hurt and to check for poison in his blood he runs through the Bat computer to find out his blood is different than before as part of his DNA is unknown now, so he thinks that the Bat computer is faulty, not before Alfred reveals to him the truth of his birth.

(1 and 2 can go together. You can do a reverse where female Danny Fenton looks like Martha Wayne and she is infertile, where the roles are reversed, but Bruce is still a boy.)

[firstfullmoon]

“When Mary Magdalene meets the resurrected Jesus, she looks right at him, but does not recognize him, “supposing him to be a gardener.” Only when he addresses her does she realize who he is. She turns toward him. John does not describe the action, only the dialogue, so it is left to us to imagine what leads Jesus to say, in the Latin that has become metonym for the scene as a whole, Noli me tangere, usually translated as “do not touch me” or “do not hold me.” The noli me tangere encounter is another one artists cannot resist. There are myriad arrangements of Jesus and Mary Magdalene: his hand stretches out in refusal, she kneels, he bends, they both stand, they look at each other, one looks away. Almost always she reaches for him. Sometimes she makes contact. The multitude of portraits reflects the ambiguity of the simple phrase, which opens a range of possible relations. Perhaps he rejects her touch because he cannot bear the shock of intimacy, divided as they are by the fact of the resurrection. Perhaps, even as he speaks, he touches her, to hold her away from him. It’s possible, the philosopher Jean-Luc Nancy argues, to translate the phrase as “do not wish to touch me.” If you do, then it becomes an exhortation to love the death too, because it is intrinsic to every life. Meanwhile, Mary’s hands hang in the air. Resurrection is Dante’s eternal rotation, “spurred on by flaming love”: it is the ongoing allegiance to keeping in sight the appearance of disappearance. It is living as if. It is a game of hands, an everlasting reaching after what escapes, what you love.”

— Elisa Gonzalez, in “Minor Resurrections: On failing to raise the dead”

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (II)

Chapter 2 : ‘Through me the way to the City of Woe’

Hi, everyone!!! Here we go for a second chapter! Drama is upon us, the plot is plotting! Let me also introduce you to Samantha, Andrew’s partner… I’m sure you’re going to love her a lot…

I hope you like this series! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 4510

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Through me the way to the City of Woe, Through me the way to everlasting pain, Through me the way among the lost. Justice moved my maker on high. Divine power made me, Wisdom supreme, and primal love. Before me nothing but things eternal, And eternal I endure. Abandon all hope, you who enter here.

Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy : Inferno, Canto III, 1321

Andrew was tired, but then he was tired all the time.

As he prepared himself a strong coffee that morning, Sam was busy on her phone, probably going through her social media or reading the news. It didn’t really bother him, he was quiet in the morning anyway, liked to start slowly, to emerge into the world in a silent and gentle way. He was naturally a night owl, it was a struggle every morning to get out of bed early. At least, before the new year of classes started, he could go to work later, no classes schedule early these days.

Elwood was sleeping again. After an early walk around the neighbourhood, the dog was back on his comfortable bed, curled in a black and white ball, softly snoring. Andrew looked at his dog with love, refraining from petting his head, choosing to let him rest instead. He was a good boy, he deserved all the sleep he wanted.

He thought of you as he poured some coffee in his favourite mug. The meeting to distribute classes for the upcoming year was today. Of course, there had been one already before summer, so lecturers could begin preparing their classes if they needed. But some new arrivals would change a few things, some negotiations between lecturers too. Andrew himself was going to switch a class with Colm, another professor from the English department, inheriting a class about Yeats’s poetry instead of biblical studies. If he wasn’t against some religious metaphors – and given the weight of religion in Ireland, Andrew reckoned that he could never escape from it anyway – he was happy to avoid teaching about it.

But you were new at Trinity, and he wanted you to enjoy yourself during your first year. Upon his arrival, Andrew had lacked a guide, someone who would explain to him how things worked, especially the more selfish and ruthless side of the institution. If Trinity was wrapped in traditions, it was also filled with professors who cared little about their colleagues thriving in their academic pursuits, especially if that meant compromising with their own wants. Some professors were kinder than others, more willing to compromise. He’d help you navigate through the meetings, and hoped you could get to choose your classes too…

“My mother wants to invite us on Sunday,” Sam broke the silence that covered Andrew’s kitchen. A blank silent, an emotionless one; neither uncomfortable of comfortable, one that was there to settle on the furniture and in the corners of the room and simply lay there, undisturbed.

“I can’t on Sunday, I’m helping Jon with his film project, and then I’ll have lunch at my parents’. You were supposed to come to lunch with me.”

Andrew turned to Samantha then, sipping on his coffee and grabbing an apple as a breakfast. She said nothing, but her frown spoke volume. She was annoyed, maybe even angry.

“It was planned, baby. I’m sorry, we can go next week.”

“I think I’ll go see my parents anyway,” she said, her tone cold and firm, the one Andrew knew meant that he had no chance of changing her mind. He heaved a sigh, rubbed at his tired eyes with the back of his hand.

“As you wish, I’ll warm my mom.”

“You’re really not coming with me?” she asked, and her eyes were throwing daggers at him.

Andrew bit on the inside of his cheek, his stare growing sterner as well.

“I had planned to spend time with my family, and my brother needs my help. I’ll come with you another time.”

We had planned to spend time with my family… but he didn’t say that out loud, unwilling to start an argument.

She mumbled something under her breath, turning to her phone again; something about ‘a useless film’, and Andrew didn’t want to hear her comment, he knew he wouldn’t like it.

“Won’t you be late for work?” she asked, her voice calmer again, but the remark annoyed Andrew anyway.

“I don’t have classes, and the meeting is at 1pm, I can take my time.”

She could have added a comment on his time blindness, but she didn’t, and he was grateful for it. He relaxed a bit thanks to that.

“Busy day for you today?” he asked, and she heaved a sigh in response.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll come over tonight. Besides, we might go for drinks with the guys from the tech company we’re working with at the moment. Do you remember? I told you about them.”

“Of course, I remember, honey,” he answered with a soft, tender voice.

“I still haven’t finished that bloody logo for them…”

Andrew was brought back to their university days then, when she studied art and he studied literature. When she longed to paint all day long and he fumbled through notebooks and broken guitar strings. When they both had dreams that were too big for them. They had made a choice, had decided to finish their degrees, and not to make the hardest of the sacrifices that would have opened the gates to a life filled with art. Andrew had changed major from music to English during his first year, had passed his exams instead of spending his time in a studio. Samantha had specialized in design and publicity, and had given up her brushes that painted the coasts of Ireland in favour of simpler shapes created on a screen. Andrew couldn’t say that he had regrets about it. He liked his life like this, on the outskirts of Dublin, sharing his love for poetry, writing his own poems, waking up most days by Samantha’s side, even if after all these years she still didn’t want them to move in together, and he couldn’t fathom why. He loved his job beyond measure, always finding a fascinating detail to study, something new to read that would shake his world. He still sang with friends when he felt like it, sometimes wrote music to fit his poetry. He had a full life, a happy one, he couldn’t complain, really.

He thought about the engagement ring he had bought once, when she wasn’t ready to get married. She had said no, it had broken something inside of him. But he loved her, he would be patient, he could wait, and anyway, that was years ago…

“You’ll do an amazing job, you always do,” he encouraged her, but she rolled her eyes.

“You’re too sweet sometimes,” her words were spoken as criticism, not as a compliment. He clenched his jaw.

“Anyway, I’ll be pretty busy too, today,” he said, even though she hadn’t asked about his plans for the day, but then she hardly ever asked. She listened when he spoke about it though, and that ought to be enough. “We have our final meeting to select the classes we’re going to teach. I’m a little worried for Y/N, though.”

“Why? I’m sure she can take care of herself.”

Sam’s tone was a little dry still, he wasn’t sure if she were jealous or simply still annoyed.

“Trinity isn’t always filled with the nicest people. A lot of academics are quite selfish sometimes. I want her to have a nice time teaching. She seems very nice. And I arrived only last year, I know how stressful this situation can be.”

Sam nodded, but didn’t seem convinced.

Andrew threw the core of the fruit in the bin, finished his coffee, washed his mug. He didn’t want to argue, didn’t want to fight. Still, for some reason, he really wanted to talk about you. He had been worried upon learning that someone would share his office now, and he was relieved to find that you were kind, smart, and everything but annoying. He hoped the two of you could become friends.

“Y/N said that she found a poster for the office too! Can’t wait to see what she’s chosen.”

“Nice,” Sam nodded, and Andrew knew she wasn’t paying attention anymore.

He let out a long exhale through his nose, and she didn’t notice. He grabbed his water bottle, crossed the room, stopped to drop a peck on her head as he walked by her.

“Have a nice day, babe. I love you.”

“You too. Love you.”

She didn’t look up from her phone, and it sounded automatic, the way she answered. Andrew remembered when they started dating, about seven years ago. Both in their early twenties, young and naïve and heads full of dreams. She used to stare at him for hours, she used to look him in the eyes every time she said she loved him, to make sure he knew she meant it. He wasn’t so sure she meant it every time she said it anymore…

He pushed the thoughts away; he reckoned that this was his busy, anxious brain talking. Instead, he put on his shoes and his denim jacket, grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He stopped thinking about Sam, and thought about you and the poster you had promised you would bring today, and he walked out of his flat.

The meeting was over, and you seemed happy. Actually, you seemed ecstatic. And it made Andrew happy as well.

He had managed to get the class about Yeats, as planned. He had helped you through the meeting, discreetly, in whispers, but it was enough for you to secure classes you were interested in teaching. This year, you would teach three classes bound directly to your research, a general introduction to 19th century English literature, another about revolutionary writings in which you planned on including a fair share of pamphlets about women’s rights, and another about 19th century novels. You were buzzing with excitement as you walked back to your office, chatting with Andrew and his good friend Colm.

“I have so many things to prepare, but also… I feel very confident in these subjects,” you grinned at the two men.

“You can’t be happier than Andy finally teaching only classes he wanted,” Colm laughed, bright and loud, throwing his head back like a child despite the fact that he was middle-aged man.

Andrew nodded, heaving a relieved sigh.

“I thought Lydia was about to make a scandal…”

“She didn’t want you to leave one of the difficult classes. You’re too popular a teacher for that.”

Andrew rolled his eyes.

“I definitely am not.”

“You are too! Students love him,” Colm added, turning towards you. “And I will easily admit he’s a good professor, great at explaining things, and always very calm. But let’s be honest, the fact that most of our students are attracted to him helps a lot.”

Andrew looked away, trying to hide that he was blushing, but you laughed anyway.

“Such a pretty mug!” Colm teased, trying to grab Andrew’s chin, but he merely pushed his friend away, laughing.

“Quit your nonsense, would you?” Andrew laughed. “Don’t listen to him, Y/N. He loves talking shite about others.”

“That is not true! Y/N! Please, with your feminine point of view… tell him I’m right.”

You chuckled, shied away, but answered anyway.

“Oh, I’m sure Andrew must be popular, yes. I would have definitely preferred staring at his face when I was a student, compared to the old dinosaurs I had to put up with.”

Andrew was blushing so hard, even his ears were turning a bright shade of red, but he couldn’t refrain his grin nonetheless.

“Please, tell me I don’t fall in that category!” Colm protested, making you laugh.

“No… not quite yet. You still have a couple of years ahead of you,” you joked, and Andrew burst into laughter, while Colm mumbled something under his breath, rolling his eyes.

“Well, children, this is my stop, have a good day,” he mumbled, entering his office while Andrew and you continued a bit further.

“I’m glad you’ll give classes you’re interested in,” Andrew said, giving you a warm smile.

“Thank you so much for helping me throughout the meeting. It was… a lot to take in.”

“Yeah, some people here are proper gobshites.”

You laughed at that, entering your shared office.

“Hmm… I have noticed, yes. You seem particularly fond of Ian,” you chuckled, and Andrew rolled his eyes.

“I’m a very peaceful kind of lad, but that arsehole deserves to get some sense being punched into him.”

You raised a surprised eyebrow at that. If you had been teasing, the fact that Andrew had turned more serious as he answered made you intrigued now, rather than playful.

“Really? What did he do?”

Andrew stared at you for a few seconds, wetting his lips before he would answer.

“Nothing illegal, don’t worry. But he’s an arsehole. He will destroy your career and reputation if it serves his interests. Especially if you’re a woman.”

He saw you clenching your jaw at that last remark, and he heaved a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he shook his head, and he hoped you could see that he meant it.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not you who is at fault. Anyone else I should be cautious about?”

“Mahon, O’Reilly, Evans, Hillstone and Patterson.”

You raised a surprised eyebrow.

“You’ve got a whole list ready,” you pointed out.

“I’ve been here for a year. Fool me once, shame on you…”

You slowly nodded, Andrew sighed again.

“Don’t worry, the rest of the bunch are nice though. Most of them are nice.”

“I’m used to it.”

You shook yourself out of the conversation, a smile growing on your features.

“I have something to show you!”

Andrew frowned a little at that, bending to avoid the lamp hanging from the ceiling as he walked over to your desk. He had grabbed his thermos filled with his favourite brand of tea.

“Really?”

You pulled out a rolled poster, and he laughed.

“Oh! So you did settle on some decoration!” he pointed out, while he opened the buttons of his grey tweed waistcoat. He buried his hand in the pocket of his tweed pants while you fumbled with the empty frame.

He put down his thermos on the edge of your desk, then pushed back a strand of hair that was falling across his eyes, readjusted his glasses upon his nose. You were quick to place the poster in the frame, and you grinned up at him once you were done, right before turning the frame around to show him the poster.

“I love this illustration. I had it hanging in my dorm when I was a student, and then in my first apartment. But my fiancé finds it a little… dark. And he’s not particularly interested in literature so… he doesn’t really get it. Anyway!”

You stopped your little rambling, grabbed the frame, and showed it to him.

Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow, immediately recognising Gustave Doré’s illustration of Dante’s Inferno.

The black and white print showed Virgil and Dante standing on the edge of a precipice, staring at a hurricane carrying the souls of sinners, talking to a couple crying in their everlasting punishment. Andrew had not read the book since his own college days, but he remembered that this was the punishment for those guilty of lust.

“Do you like it? Can I hang it?” you asked, an excited smile he found adorable on your lips. “I thought the black and white would fit your poster quite well.”

“Sure, go ahead. Need help?”

But you were already placing the frame against the wall.

“I have to admit, I’m quite surprised by your choice,” Andrew inspected the print, leaning against your desk, his hands still in his pockets. “I didn’t picture you as a fan of Dante… especially given his… conservative thoughts.”

“I love Inferno. I’m not going to pretend that I love the entirety of the Divine Comedy, but I love Dante’s image of hell. The haunting part of it. The way it is structured. Of course, it’s medieval thinking about issues that have radically changed now, but… It was a long time ago. If I don’t appreciate all of his thoughts, I do admire his imagination. Besides, it was a heavily political book. I’m surprised you don’t give him more credit for that.”

He answered your teasing smile with a genuine one.

“I do remember a little bit of that. Last time I read it, though… I was a student and hadn’t chosen to suffer through it. Besides… I think I was a little too young to understand it fully.”

You nodded.

“I’ve read it many times. I don’t know, there’s something… something about it that draws me in. Not the Christian moral lessons, of course. But just… I don’t know… there’s something fascinating about it. And I often wonder what our version of hell would be today. If we kept the structure, if we kept the place Dante created… how would we view those who are imprisoned there? Would we find their pain justified? Would we find it unfair to punish them like this? And who would we place in there? If we replaced the references to people Dante knew by people from our world, who would be stuck in Hell?”

Andrew pondered on these questions while he kept on listening to you. He had a few names in mind, for sure. He smiled at the thought, didn’t interrupt you while you babbled away about the book, about the things you loved and disliked about it.

“And I love Doré’s illustrations so much! They’re haunting, just like the book. And this one in particular, with Francesca and Paolo… like… their story is so sad, but even Dante was touched by them. Even if the moral in his book is outdated now, goes against what I believe… I’d like to think that we’d turn their story around today, that we wouldn’t condemn their love or include such a warning towards fiction through them, you know… with the whole reference to Arthurian myths and everything… don’t know if you remember that… but anyway… what would we think of them today? I’d like to believe we would find their punishment in hell unfair.”

You trailed off after that. You were nervous when you looked at him, pushing some of your hair behind your ear.

“Sorry for the ramble,” you apologised, but Andrew frowned in response.

“No need to apologise. Why would you?”

“I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me at all. Your thoughts are very interesting.”

You blinked at him, as if surprised. You gave him a bright smile, growing a little shy.

“Right, thanks. But we should get back to work.”

Andrew nodded, moved away from your desk and bent again to avoid the lamp hanging from the ceiling.

He looked at you as you stared at the poster for a moment. He was happy you were the one sharing his office, you were getting along well, you were so nice, you were so smart and always seemed to have something interesting to say. He just wanted to talk to you more about this book you loved, but you were right, you both had a lot of work to do. He should focus on this article he was reading before the meeting. Instead, he looked at you for a moment longer. And before his brain pushed the thought away, before Samantha was on his mind again, he didn’t fail to notice how beautiful you were.

He looked for his thermos across his desk, furrowing his brow when he didn’t find it there. He rolled his eyes, annoyed at himself when he remembered where it was.

He walked over to your desk again, reached for it while you were still focused on the poster. But his fingers got clumsy as he threw you a glance, and it fell across your desk. Some of the warm beverage was spilled on the wooden surface.

“Shite! God!”

You turned around at the sound, but Andrew didn’t see your eyes growing slightly round. Instead, as a reflex, he had grabbed your phone and papers to secure them, was already looking for some tissues to clean the mess he had made. You reached for some Kleenex tugged inside your backpack.

“Christ, I’m so sorry,” Andrew profusely apologised, hurrying to clean your desk too. “Sorry, I’m so… long, clumsy limbs… I’m so sorry…”

He cursed at himself under his breath, didn’t look at you, fiercely blushed. Always count on him to ridicule himself…

“That’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” you reassured him, and when Andrew looked up again, you had an earnest smile on your lips. “It was just an accident, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m sorry…”

Andrew was so flustered, so embarrassed… He finished cleaning, handed you back your things without making eye-contact, rubbed at his collarbone through his shirt as soon as his hands were empty again.

When he finally looked up once more, you were still smiling.

“It’s nothing, Andrew. It’s merely a little bit of tea. Besides, you’ve saved the most important items on my desk. Nothing to be so upset about.”

The anxious side of him had kicked in, he couldn’t help it. He ran his fingers through his hair several times while he forced out a chuckle.

“I know, sorry…”

Andrew walked back to his desk, looked at his computer screen while he heard you chuckling lightly. He saw in the corner of his eyes that you were fondly shaking your head at him.

Why did he have to always make a fool of himself, huh?

All you wanted to do was to rush home to share the good news with Frank.

You had managed to get interesting classes, including some linked to your research… you were so excited to get to work and begin teaching in October.

When you came home, Frank was on his computer, working. He kissed you when you leaned closer, but focused on his screen again, and so you decided to wait for dinner to talk to him about your day.

You took a shower, prepared dinner. Frank was still working, he only stopped when you told him dinner was ready.

“Smells nice,” he said with a smile, squeezing your hand, and you took the gesture for a silent thank you.

“Thanks!”

Frank remained silent as he started to eat, and so you jumped on the opportunity to speak about your day.

“The meeting about classes and lectures was today. And it went so well!” you started babbling away, Frank looking up at you with an emotionless gaze. “I’ve managed to get topics I’m interested in, and I’m going to teach about my research too! I mean… not directly about my research, but problematics bound to it! I’ll have a class about the male gaze and female gaze dynamics, another about feminism and feminist essays…”

“That’s great, babe.”

“Yeah! Andrew helped me navigate through the meeting quite a bit, and he got the classes he wanted too, so…”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah! And…”

“Could you hand me the salt, please?”

“Sure. I’m also gonna work quite a lot on the 19th century, which is great! I like that period, especially for novels. And that means that I can include lots of female writers, like Austen and the Brontë sisters, obviously… but I can also spend some time on feminist movements, cause that’s really an important century for them.”

“Good, good…”

“Yeah, that’s grand, and…”

He heaved a sigh, and you grew quiet.

“You’re alright?” you asked, trying not to show your disappointment.

You knew that this question meant that the conversation would focus on him for a while, and you might not be able to talk about today again.

“I… Y/N, we need to talk.”

Your heart sank.

That was not the answer you were expecting…

“Talk?”

“About us.”

“What? What do you mean? About the wedding, you mean?”

“No, I…”

He hesitated, looked at you for a moment, before putting his fork down.

“I think we should break up.”

And that was it. Words that were shattering your world spoken like they were easy to let out, like they didn’t mean the earthquake they produced. You merely stared for a moment, waiting for Frank to tell you that he was joking, to take his words back. But he didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” he went on. “But I think we should go our separate ways.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? We’re engaged! We’re going to get married!”

“I’m sorry, Y/N… I know it’s pretty sudden…”

“PRETTY SUDDEN! WE’RE ENGAGED! YOU’RE EATING MY FUCKING FOOD!”

“There’s no need to shout…”

“NO NEED TO SHOUT! OF COURSE, THERE IS A NEED TO SHOUT! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!”

“I’m sorry… but it’s best if we don’t stay together.”

“Why? What happened? You… We’re supposed to get married…”

“I’ve met someone else, Y/N.”

Your eyes grew round, and suddenly all air had left your lungs.

“You… you’re cheating on me?!” you asked, your voice lowering again, your emotions bubbling too much, tears rising to your eyes.

“No! No! No!” Frank defended himself, shaking his head vehemently. “Nothing happened. I swear, nothing happened… but… Y/N, if I am able to feel this way for another woman, then we shouldn’t get married.”

“For how long have you known her? Who is it?”

“You don’t know her. We’ve met through work.”

“How long?”

“Not long… a few weeks.”

You raised an unimpressed eyebrow, crossing your arms before your chest.

“A few weeks? You’re trying to make me believe that you want to leave me for a woman you’ve met weeks ago?!”

“You don’t understand, we’re in love…”

You felt your head starting to spin, you had buried it in your hands.

This was a nightmare, just a bad dream, you would wake up and everything would get back to normal, you would tick all the right boxes again…

“What do you mean in love?”

“I love her. I know that it sounds… mental, but I do. And if I can fall in love with someone else like this… then you and I shouldn’t get married. It means that I… that I don’t love you enough to marry you.”

“You’ve got to be joking…”

“I’m not. I’m sorry, but I’m serious.”

“What’s her name?”

“Does it matter?”

“No, no… Do you want to be with her?”

“Yes. But I don’t know if she’ll want to be with me.”

“Really?”

“She’s not single either.”

You laughed then, tears streaming down your face too, unable to cope with the tidal wave of emotions that was drowning you.

Denial, pain, betrayal, anger, sadness…

“I’ll gather my things,” he said, standing up while you started shaking on your chair, struggling to breathe.

You didn’t even notice that he was moving away, that he was packing… you remained frozen on your seat, sobbing, while Frank was gathering fragments of your lives and tearing them away from your space.

He only reappeared about an hour later in the kitchen, the rest of your meal was cold. You hadn’t moved an inch.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

And then he was gone.

[zeravmeta]

ordeal call 2 is all about dantes and jalter and how much the avengers love guda etc etc BUT it also brought up a little more limbo parallels to guda

guda despite all their rage and hatred and genuine vengeance... just does not have it in them to be an avenger class servant. even when presented with the perfect opportunity to do so they simply do not have the type of rage that burns forever. they're incapable of being anything other than an ally of humanity.

an utter inability to change who they inherently are, much like limbo, who also burns with every type of hatred against humans there can be and yet does not hold any ill will towards humanity, so even though they failed to become a Beast due to not holding any sort of 'love' for humanity, they also do not hold any sort of 'hate' for it as well that would allow them to become a curse against humanity.

no ever burning grudge but also no everlasting love, the weakling last master of humanity and the most pathetic and monstrous human being are one and the same, incapable of being anyone or anything more but themselves

[mkarchin713]

* taps mike* -Ahem

The press is having a field day with the discovery of “Brucie’s secret family”.

The famous playboy actually has three children with the same woman who is married to another man through their entire relationship.

The eldest Dante is the heir to DALV co and just got out of juvie.

The youngest is a notorious pick pocket and vagabond who is wanted in six states for somehow escaping police custody.

The middle child Danny is the most delicious though. He helped save the Purple Backed Gorilla from extinction and is dating the reclusive Manson Heiress and the boy who somehow ended one hit wonder Embers career.

Fic idea

Ellie in Gotham, vibing it up, when this guy (Batman) comes out of nowhere and asks her to do a DNA test.

Ellie: “lol, sure, but your gonna be real confused.”

Ellie finding out she shares DNA with this guy and pauses before whipping out her phone and calling Danny.

Ellie: “Yo Danny? Are you adopted?”

Danny: “What no???”

Ellie: “Then why is Batman saying he’s my dad???”

Danny: “What?”

Batman: “who’s that?”

Ellie: “the guy I’m cloned from.”

Batman: “?????”

[ashevi666]

working on drawing bride (everlasting) hong lu

you're here? good The new roadmap will be released soon. Maybe on Halloween or the day after? That's my bet. We'll find out the name of Hong Lu's canto (it's going to be named The Light Fading watch me predict this), the picture for it. Then we'll also get to know what our intervallos will be, one of which will be related to Hong Lu.

Once his Canto comes out, we'll finally get to know everything about him. He'll get new sprites that have emotions that aren't just :) :o ^▽^. He'll get his own WAW ego that will be the main face of the Battle Pass for months. The battlepass will also be naive cyan. All of it. He will also get his own Mili song. His own Mili song!!!!!

I can't wait to find out what's the deal with him, why he goes as Hong Lu and not Bayou, which his family seems to not know? At least Xichun didn't even bother calling him Hong Lu in front of the others. I also want to know what the hell the creatures in the gates(?) are in his promotion art. AND WHAT DID DANTE MEAN BY THE LIGHT IN HIS EYES FADING?? I CANNOT LET THAT GO. WHAT DOES IT MEAN. IS IT STILL FADING. WHERE IS IT GOING. WHY IS IT DOING THAT. anyway. my predictions for the future: The Roadmap will come out on the 31st of October. (or the day after that) Canto VII will be called The Light Fading. It has to be connected to light. It must be. He will lose his eye in his canto. He will die in-story at least five times in his canto. He will distort.

i am normal about hong lu

[soracities]

Charles Wright, from "Mid-Winter Snowfall in the Piazza Dante"

[cath-lic]

Hello, I was wondering if you believe non-Christians can be saved? I know many Catholics believe everyone that doesn't accept Jesus will go to hell. Personally, I find this outlook very sad and I was curious on other points of view so please anyone respond with their own opinions. I mean to ask you this: If God is love and is forgiving of our sins, why would he send everyone to hell simply because they could not find their way to him?

hi!! YES absolutely everyone is saved!! now, everyone and their brother has a conflicting opinion on this, but i’ll throw in my two cents.

my first, more concrete point: john 3:16. the everyman’s verse!!

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

okay, but what if someone doesn’t believeth? vatican ii’s lumen gentium, no. 16, also covers this. (italics added by me)

Those also can attain to everlasting salvation who through no fault of their own do not know the gospel of Christ or his Church, yet sincerely seek God and, moved by grace, strive by their deeds to do his will as it is known to them through the dictates of conscience. Nor does divine Providence deny the help necessary for salvation to those who, without blame on their part, have not yet arrived at an explicit knowledge of God, but who strive to live a good life, thanks to his grace.

however, it’s important to note LG no. 14. bear with me here.

Whosoever knowing that the Catholic Church was made necessary by God through Jesus Christ would refuse to enter her or to remain in her could not be saved.

i’m not a theologian, i’m just joe off the street—so i may be taking things out of context. forgive me!

however—as much as i am catholic, i believe that this is putting WAY too much importance on the catholic church as we know it today. it is far, far different than the original organization founded upon the rock of st. peter, and i believe that there are many things that god takes issue with in the catholic church (notoriously, jesus criticized large institutions like these). therefore, i don’t know how much i believe that the catholic church today, nor as a whole, was made necessary by god through christ.

my second point: my most fervent belief is that god is love. pretty much all of my friends are atheists, and they are kind and caring and loving people. it is, therefore, impossible for me to believe that they are not saved.

my second-and-a-half point: i take a little bit of issue with your phrasing of “send” to hell.

personally, i believe that hell is not necessarily Dante’s inferno, but a place of complete and total separation from god. i also believe that hell is not a place you are sent to, but rather a place you send yourself.

i mentioned purgatory in my earlier answer to a different anon; this is where that comes in. i generally concur with pope francis when he says that he likes to think of hell as empty (note: he was not issuing doctrine here). i believe that in purgatory, 99.999% (you get it) of people, if not 100%, are able to reconcile with god and see the consequences of their decisions, good and bad, throughout their life.

you know when you tell someone something that is true, but they keep on rejecting it, no matter what evidence you show them? that’s what i imagine is happening to the other .001%.

god is endlessly patient; he doesn’t mind spending eons trying to convince others to have empathy for their fellow man. however, humans are not as patient. they get fed up and walk away—and this is my (limited) understanding of the process of going to hell.

i’ll be honest, i don’t know if hell is permanent, temporary, etc. i’m not sure how helpful it is to debate it, either. but what i do know is very helpfully summarized in this post by the lovely hymnsofheresy.

whenever i have doubts about some aspect of what i believe being incorrect, i remind myself that god is love. he loves us more than anything in the world, and nothing we can do will ever change that. he doesn’t look for reasons for you to go to hell; he wants to be with us all the time.

thank you for sending in this ask, and i hope it helped ❤️❤️❤️

[mkarchin713]

Overgrowth claimed grandpa rights the second he found out what the trio needed the tree for.

He’s already started knitting plant clothing for his little seedling and bragging to all the other ancients.

Now the ancients are fighting over who gets to adopt Tucker so they can be grandparents too (Danny already got claimed by Clockwork, Pandora and Frostbite)

( o.o) okay... so...

I am loosely basing this of how one of my OCs powers work? But... can Overgrowth make ANY plant? Past, present, future? Possible, probable, hypothetical? ANY any plant?

I ask this, because Humans? NOT born from a plant.

Buuuuuut they COULD be.

Of course they could. The plant would be a dead end. Unable to reproduce or cultivate without humanity. Just? The most costly, ungainly, unnatural plant imaginable.

Which is WHY it doesn't exsist. Why it will never exist.

But COULD it? Oh easily. Child's play. There are countless billions of billions of plants that COULD exsist. From benevolent to world ending. But why would Overgrowth give a shit? Why MAKE such pointless things?

Well... Sam wants a kid.

Full stop.

She wants a kid and is NOT about to do that whole "risk her life and irreversibly change her body with child creation" thing. So? How does one have a child with two fathers, one mother, who was not carried to term inside said mother? A surrogate perhaps?

Naaaaah.

No, no. It's time to get the machete and go Bully God(tm). Specifically THAT God, over there. The plant one. Give her the nonexistent child creating plant or Snippy Snippy, Overgrowth, you fuck!

Sam. Sam, please. Begs her beloved husband's. But until THEY can carry Child, they can shut up and help menace a Deity. Dani, her beloved S-I-L who's just here for adorable future munchkins and general Chaos, agrees. Square up, boys.

She obviously, gets her plant.

It's an abomination.

Just? THE nightmare of a tree. Oozy tar like bark, sickly appearance, bone colored needle like leaves. Single, giant, blood red "fruit". They have to feed it ectoplasm, their own blood, and basicly everything to make a body. Meaning flesh, bones, blood, nutrients and minerals.

Proper horror movie.

Sam? Fucking LOVES her Baby Tree. It's name is Mortica.

Now, OBVIOUSLY, everyone in Amity? Knows to mind their Business by now. The Fenton-Foely-Manson throuple or what ever order they've decided on today, are both terrifying and willing to throw down. Fenton is Phantom. Manson is Samantha Manson. Their husband will laugh at you instead of help. Not worth it.

But OUTSIDERS? Tourists passing through and cousins come to visit?

They see a huge, fuck off, nightmare tree straight out of Poison Ivy's fever dreams. Do the reasonable thing. Call the Justice League Help Line.

So NOW JLA Dark is sitting Very Nervously, in this terrifying throuples home. Trying to ask HOW they got the Tree. Trying to ignore that one of them is a ghost of incredible power, the other an Avatar of the Green, and this nice man is just? Cool with having a nightmare tree baby? Yeah. Of course.

Just... just please tell them if it's gonna eat people. Yes or no.

@nerdpoe @hypewinter @ailithnight @hdgnj @the-witchhunter

[mnstcrbnll]

[narenohate]

my golden guard! luz au is just kinda funny to me. she's so bad at it that god has to intervene so she stops fucking up.

context blast up there... or down here?

“Through me you go to the grief wracked city; Through me you go to everlasting pain; Through me you go a pass among lost souls. Justice inspired my exalted Creator: I am a creature of the Holiest Power, of Wisdom in the Highest and of Primal Love. Nothing till I was made was made, only eternal beings. And I endure eternally. Surrender as you enter, every hope you have.”

― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

-

Through the red he'd carried her. She remembers it in those minutes. It had just happened, hadn't it?

Why does it feel so long ago, if the pain of the broken rib and the warmth of her own cape still are felt, a residual ghost touch, as if her armor were an amputated limb?

Almost tender was that embrace even as she shook, each breath ripping the fight further and further away from her tight-fisted grip.

Every hair had stood on its end, the buzzing in the air ever-louder as her vision wavered, pain and fear battling for control over her conscious mind.

Each of her captor's steps feels like a stab to her chest.

There's a bloody exhale, preceding a breathless laugh. She feels the underside of his glove, leathery and worn, along her ribs.

She's disgusted by it now, she will forever be disgusted by it. She feels as if she's still in his grasp - she will never not be.

Luz had exhaled then, as she does now, and both times she coughed a mouthful of blood.

"Hush, now. We will be home soon." he told her and it echoes nw. "You had told me once… Your mother knows of medical practices, doesn't she?"

She rasps out;

"Don't bring her into this-" There's an edge of fear to her voice which she loathes, "Leave my mom alone."

"She would like to know her daughter was a hero, wouldn't she?" he asks, and it borders on genuine; "You've made mistakes-"

"Like you!" she regrets it in retrospect- it wouldn't have hurt so much if he hadn't squeezed her ribcage shut again then, to shut her up and hear nothing but her coughing blood.

He walked so slow. Agonizingly so, as if to stretch those last moments for eternity, cradling her somehow even closer, shifting her, knocking out of her lungs every last trace of a breath.

"The Titan greets us to his realm," he said, and against her cheek she felt the bobbing of his Adam's apple, nudging her in that moment to blink the tears from her eyes.

She feels her gaze pulled to it - this horrid doorway before which they linger taunts her for a brief moment, a sea of black tar streaked in deep blues and yellows.

And with a single step, the silence of it swallowed them whole. In the dark now, at least Luz could hear herself breathe-

Yet just as she did then, she smells it now;

Both times did she wheeze, fruitless, in an attempt to clear her sinuses from it. Titan's blood has a powerful, astringent, sulphuric smell.

It clung to her - maybe it is gone in the present because she simply got used to it.

"Clean up, lamb." he said, nudging her. He wanted her to take the edge of his cape, she understood. He made her bleed before - a tooth. The gap of it still stings.

"I hate you." she whispered.

That which surrounded her then was pure black, a realm where his steps slowed even further, dragged down by the brackish tar.

There was a light to guide them. She could not comprehend its source.

"I will help you get over it." he said, his words fading with no echo, as lost as their souls.

She loathed to know how he'd try. Pondered briefly if she'd clamp down on his neck with her teeth.

And then she questioned, to herself; could she even die here?

That which she doesn't know stings her.

A sound of anguish fought its way out of her.

And, though by that point she knows she had realized they were not all alone, Luz came to understand that nothing that heard her had turned to help.

In the dark, something moved. It was the hair standing on end, it was the light coming from nowhere.

She felt Belos move slower and slower. Did her eyes close? Or was the world simply so dark?

"Luz, quiet." she heard, and so still she became, nothing but the beat of her heart did she hear - for he'd sounded terrified.

Suddenly she understood, and it was clearer and brighter than the sun.

She heard it, paws heavy, wingtips dragging along the muck, and she understood it even before the smell of its rotting corpse reached them.

"Run."

That sets it off, alright.

The silence dies with that lonely word, whispered with bloody and bated breath.

It tore through the air and filled up her ears with a high-pitched ringing sound; A roar like she'd never heard before spelled their fate, set off the hammering of the chase;

In the dark, the mud rippled. The smell of rotting flesh and mold made her dizzy, pulled from Belos some sort of angry shout, that which was lost in the cacophony of the chase as soon as he let it out.

She only felt it from how close she was to his throat.

For once he'd obeyed, for once he'd heard a plea from her.

It mattered not.

To the ground they fell, and to her skin it clung, sticky and thick, pungent in smell, so terrible that Luz could taste it as she breathed in with an open mouth.

It slowed down its chase, and catch its breath it did not, though all around her in a circle did she feel its footsteps, rippling along the mud.

Along with their fate, it brought the light.

At first her vision's return was the catalyst for nothing but Belos' hand grasping onto hers, his eyes wide and teary as he pulled her close…

And then pushed her in front of him, almost, as their Lord fell upon shared view.

Luz thought, for a moment, that the sun perched between its horns would be a light shining upon a clean skull - for very clearly did she know what a Titan ought to look like;

And that was nothing of it.

Its skull was at first like shifting sand, but as her eyes focused on that white thing, Luz's mouth fell agape;

God's face was almost fully made of maggots. They blended with god's bones, the same color, separated only by the shadows Its Light cast upon its own visage.

It pushed against her head. It is God. It is the Devil. It is, for a second between her tears, her father in a hospital gown, the tubes coming from his nose like over-engorged, misplaced tapeworms.

Its flesh rippled as it got closer to them, something crawling in it. Clumps of oily black fur, strands clinging to greenish, gangrenous wounds.

Bile rose to the back of her throat just then, as her gaze drifted to the cut which sliced its chest open, and found nothing inside.

She knelt.

it was no conscious choice. She was told, and though she obeyed, never did she hear the order.

She opened her mouth, but instead of pleas, blood was all that flowed.

When the light is cast upon it, the red is all too bright, for the brief moment before Limbo swallows it.

The thing she looked up at was not her mother's God.

Padre Nostro rang in her ears nonetheless, Belos' hoarse voice praying under its rushed breath.

It let her look at him, pushed oh-how-pathetic-is-this-really-all-you-settled-for through her mind; Though he knelt, it was not without struggle.

He fought back, thrashing against the invisible binding which Luz found didn't truly hold her down.

God's understanding of her pushed the brain against the sides of the skull. She knew then that the little barriers between the bone and the skin and the brain were all shaky and jittery.

Out the deepest breath, a shaky hand reached out almost gleeful, and between her fingers she gripped his hair.

Not a word was said. Luz refused to let her eyes shut from the pain, even as it grew, for she had for very long wished for this;

With strength she hadn't known she had, she pushed Belos' head onto the mud.

Bow she did not, when she tasted her blood all over her mouth. She let it stain his cape and his hair.

It dripped and dripped. There came a muffled plea. She knew he told her this would not last. She also knew, without rhyme nor reason to explain it, that he'd remember this.

And yet, she kept pushing.

There was darkness creeping in slowly, overcoming the edges of her vision.

And yet, she kept pushing.

And for an eternity, she held him there. In the dim and the quiet, where it was only their breath and the buzzing of the flies and the smell of rotting flesh, she was reminded, bitter and vengeful, of their shared chambers.

She kept his head under the mud until he stopped thrashing.

Almost against her will, her head tilted up, and she met it eye to eye. Such a solution was hardly even temporary, she knew, and it knew as well, as it stared back.

Its eyes were empty sockets, yet she knew it saw her.

A blind thing could not hold such a hateful gaze.

Oh, what she'd done; Such small revenge for such grandiose malice.

The pressure of its words filled her mouth with copper.

It is dying. Its last breaths are being wasted here, with Its killers.

It is pain and desolation, it is hatred, and it is something too quiet to be wrath as she'd call it.

God knelt. It was Helios before, it was Nhanderu before, it was Kronos as Horus and a thousand other voices in name.

Luz heard screaming. Much louder, much more than just her own, though her throat hurt and she knew she was part of that unseen cacophony.

Her eyes could not shift from the maggots. Closer, closer, came a hypnotic dance as Luz dragged her body on its hands and knees.

For a second she did not understand it; And then, as her face rested against the pale bone of a snout, so cold it stung, it came to be that she knew it; the last shred of its power, the last bite of its plate - The last name of this God.

To know it was the same as her own overwhelmed her with a foreign, resentful grief.

An oversized paw tilted up her head with only its claw.

God held the sun between its horns. She stared transfixed, and laid trembling fingers over its talon, fruitlessly trying to keep its tender, cold touch.

Its wings spread open, a membrane full of holes and veins.

Which of them screamed? She wasn't sure. Everything faded, except for the sun, and the paw which was raised up to it, gripping onto the flame; Though its shape changed, its glow never dimmed. It was sharp and jagged. It was God.

And then, God stabbed the soft spot where spine snaps into skull.

-

Luz Noceda breathes in. That's the first sign that something is terribly, horribly wrong.

The second one? It's not the pain, but instead the fact that she can hear again, see again-

And her god is nowhere to be seen nor found.

She is doubled over. Her skin is opening up. The base of her skull, where God killed itself and killed her too, is on fire.

A whimper slips off with her breath, but with the next inhale, it turns into a cough. Her rib- no. It's further. It's more.

Everything is too much - she is light and defenseless, armor lost somewhere in this battlefield, and she is soft and shaky, hand on her chest, reaching for where it hurts. She knows something clattered to the floor when she awoke.

And then she remembers Belos.

Painfully, she manages to pry her eyes open, and figures that the thing on the floor – clean wood, worn out, its polish long faded – is an Azura figurine.

The cheap plastic meets her grimace with a blank, crooked, off-the-mold smile.

Her ears are buzzing. Did her brain hatch into flies?

"Mija, did you choke?"

At first hardly do those words register. But then, she realizes she had not been sure of whether or not her little stunt killed the emperor.

So she forces her spine to straighten, turns her head to face her mother.

She looks the same as she did a year ago, when she left Luz at the bus station to go to a summer camp- she looks the same as when Luz abandoned her.

The piercing burn of the blade stays, a cloying reminder of the mantle which befell her that day.

Though she is not there, Luz knows, clear as day:

Elsewhere, far away, at this moment, in a throne room occupied by only a grimwalker, sitting at the foot of both his metamorphosis, his death, and the throne of the emperor which he worships, the heart of a Titan with a thousand names stops beating.