#They dragged me down/I didn’t make a sound/You’ve got me/Cursed | The Mayor/Zimo

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“Replace bone marrow with glowstick juice so the kids get a neat little surprise when they break a bone.”

“Blood poisoning, how tasty.”

“Just don’t break a bone and they’ll be fine~!”

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“If you dare harm any child in my city...”

“The police will never find your body.”

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“I’m not good with children.”

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“You can’t haunt me more than the screams of all those I’ve killed over the years do.”

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Headcanons - Various

A post for various headcanons for this blog, let’s gooo!

The Mayor/Zimo

It is really hard for Zimo to stop smiling- borderline impossible. He’s still trying to get better at it, but he’s been smiling near-nonstop for centuries, so he’s quite used to having a creepy grin plastered over his face to hide how he’s actually feeling.

Zimo’s power is cumulative- every single soul he’s cut down over the centuries, he’s absorbed the life force of. He gains more power the more he kills.

He is morally gray, wanting a better future but still more than willing to kill to get it. Zimo’s early life is all but an echo now- but faint rings of it can still be felt in how he carries himself in combat, and around royalty/gods. While he is out from under LBD’s control.... He’s still very much permanently changed by her command. If you dare try to harm what he cares about... Prepare to suffer.

Due to the amount of power within him, Zimo is now slowly (and trust me when I say ‘slowly’), constantly disintegrating. The cracks in his skin glow a rather brilliant white with undertones of blue, but he does his best to use a glamour to hide these cracks from mortals’ sights.

When he is powerless, his eyes are a rather muted green.

Zimo can speak and write any known language in his world.- He’s had centuries to do whatever, so for a time, he lent himself over to learning as many tongues as possible.

In my AUs, Zimo is, in fact, the mayor of Megapolis- he’s just usually very quiet and rarely seen in public, although that flipped on its head as LMK began.

He still struggles from time to time, trying to get around the built-in wording to call LBD ‘my lady’ or ‘my mistress’. It... Irks him every time he does.

Zimo can contort his body in any way, shape, and form with no harm to himself. However, he usually doesn’t do as such due to how... Unsettled it makes those around him.

Writer of Worlds/Doll

They have a new ability in this version of LMK.- They can access the power of Nature, one of the darkest Writer alternates. This power is on par with the Samadhi Fire (capable of ripping the universe itself asunder), yet they showed a great degree of control over it when they were using it in their battle against MK and crew (and Zimo). This ability can only be accessed when they are flooded with power, and is controlled almost entirely by emotion.

Unlike their other alternates in the LMK area of the Writerverse, Doll has no item on them to signify what variant of Writer they are. They view the scars in their skin as evidence enough of their version of reality.

Due to the Mayor advocating (for a time) for a more livable minimum wage, Writer (in this universe) is able to afford more than they can in other LMK Writer-verses.

Both/String Cutters

The tropes this couple generally follows are: patching up wounds and worrying about losing the other, light combat couple vibes (with Mayor slowly showing Writer how to actually fight), acquaintances to friends to lovers, ‘the world’s shit but we’ll find the beauty in it anyway’.

Looks like a cinnamon roll (and is a cinnamon roll) x looks like they would kill you (and would kill you), ‘has never gotten in trouble’ x ‘gives no shits’.

The scars the two have from Zimo’s power start around the heart, and go outward- Zimo has less despite having his powers longer, simply due to his powers only recently growing unstable. Writer has more scars due to their body not having been prepared for that amount of power.

Writer tends to call Zimo ‘Z’, regardless of if they’re in public or not. Zimo usually calls Writer by name in public (at least, when reporters are around) and refers to them as ‘Sunflower’ when there are no reporters present.

The two are running on very limited time, as far as they know- and yet, they have very little PDA outside of potentially holding hands while in the general public.

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[Writings - “Won’t Lose You Again”]

A short drabble from my Discord. Takes place shortly before the Mainverse, and for context...:

Writer (in my timeline) had their Talisman AoE taken down for a time by LBD, after days of being surrounded by the other’s demonic power. They were possessed with the Mayor’s own power and (upon LBD’s death), the Mayor’s power grew more unstable- and started to disintegrate them from within. So, Zimo (the Mayor) took it on themself to free Writer from xeir power, after they collapsed, unconscious.

"I lost you once, I won't lose you again." The last scraping of chalk filled the night, the circle lighting up as its creator stepped within, eyes on the cracking form of his beloved. They couldn't handle the power they'd been forced to wield. Much like his own shell, they had begun to crack under the pressure- under the immense strength they were never meant to carry. Unlike him, they had been cracking faster, fractures of white appearing like spiderwebs across their skin in the past few days. Only now had they grown too weak to remain awake, and he had taken it upon himself to free them. He knew the pain the power brought- the mass instability it forced upon the mind. But he would find a way. The circle pulsed, glow growing ever stronger as the smell of bone and ash filled his lungs. The lines started to retrace, the cracks losing their power to be replaced by scars that weaved across the other's flesh as he lowered his head.

This was for the best.

"...I'll see you soon." He smiled as the chalk on the floor became blinding, pure-white filling his vision as he saw the chest of the other begin to rise and fall once more, for a brief moment assured that they would live.

And then, everything was burned away in a tidal wave of blistering, painful white.

➰

 ".....ugh..." Writer pushed a hand against the floor- or at least, tried. The last thing they remembered was taking a step towards the sink to do dishes, and then....falling. They could barely move, energy drained beyond any form of breaking point. It was as if every cell in their body was aching, on its own version of a deathbed as they inhaled the taste of bone and ash. Writer coughed.

"...hello, darling." A familiar voice greeted them, looking up to see the forever-disquieting smile of Zimo looking back, eyes once more glittering a pure, dangerous white. They felt hands picking them up, pulling them into his arms as his smile became a fraction softer, eyes not quite-so-wild. At the edges of his cheeks, they could see... White cracks. Cracks that, not a day prior... Had been nothing but scars.

"....Z..." They wanted to ask why. They weren't from this world- if they died, it didn't matter. If he died... "...you..."

"...yes." His smile never faltered, never faded. "...you're safe, now."

"....bastard..." A chuckle.

"...I have been called that, yes..."

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