#god he really is so cool

[plush-rabbit]

Dating Jonathan Ohnn/The Spot Headcanons

Okay, so when I write jonathan/spot I'm keeping it close to what we have seen and the general vibe from him but also how im interpreting him so here is what I headcanon dating him like and a bit of him in general!!

-

Jonathan Ohnn:

Jonathan Ohnn is awkward by default. While there are moments where’s confident, around you, he falls back to feeling young. All he wants to do is impress you, but when he stumbles and can’t find the right words to compliment you, he’s feeling warm all over himself. He’s a tall man with broad shoulders, and he hardly ever stands to his full height. When working, he’s usually found hunched over, and it’s starting to translate whenever he does any errands. You always reprimand him, your hand on the curve of his back as you tell him to stand straight. He smiles apologetically and for the next few minutes will walk upright until he’s back to his usual position. You hardly have the heart to tell him to stand up straight up again, so you hold onto his arm, walking beside him. 

Most people would assume he is closed off and stoic, but he’s the opposite. He’s a rather emotional person. He’s able to hide it well for the most part. He isn’t afraid to let his emotions show when he’s feeling a certain type of way. He’s expressive, and it is usually the most prominent when he’s jealous. His face will twist into a scowl, and he’ll hold you close to him, hovering above you. When he speaks, it’s sharp and insulting to the other person- it’s probably one of the few times that you ever do get nervous because of him. He’s a smart man that won't do something that will get him into serious trouble, but he’s emotional and volatile. On the other side of the spectrum, he’s also one to look at you as if you painted the stars and the moon onto the sky, as if you’re holding the sky with your hands. He can never really hide his emotions from you- maybe it’s because the two of you are so intimate, but it’s like you can read him like an open book, like he wears his heart on his sleeve despite the walls that he tried to put up. 

It’s not all the time that the scientist is direct, but for the most part he is when he’s around you. He tells you things as if it’s the most common knowledge with no room for debate to be held with him. He’ll tell you that you’re pretty, and that he likes it when you laugh, that it sounds sweet. He’ll mention how he cares for you, terribly so, and while holding your hand in his, and he’s tracing over your knuckles, telling you that he hopes that he gets to have a long and happy life with you. When your hand tightens around his, he’s brought back to reality, and he’s clearing his throat, unsure of where to look. He can tell you how he never wants to part from you, how you look so pretty under the sun, but he can never tell you that if you just asked, he’d drop everything and run away with you, that he’d want to be with you, that you’re the only one for him, that no one else can compare.

If he had to choose a favorite activity, it’s just being next to you. He doesn’t need anything more. He finds himself thinking that he has to be with you, needing to be next to you, wanting to know that you also want the same as he does. He’s desperately into you, needing you like he needs air, like air is a second thought to him, that as long as he has you, that’s enough. In the beginning of the relationship, he’d hold you at night, letting his arm fall asleep under your weight, brushing his nose along your cheek, and pressing a kiss where he touched. A thought made itself known to him that he wouldn’t want to leave you, not willingly. In the late nights that you two shared, where you called his name and kissed his lips, he could only picture you with him in the future. He holds your hand in his when you’re asleep, and he presses his palm against yours, and he knows that to keep himself sane, he needs to be with you, that to deprived him of you would be torturous. He hopes that you feel the same.

Work is a bit of a distance for the both of you to have a shared lunch together. On top of that, he doesn’t want you around Alchemax. He’d much prefer it if you stayed as far away from it as possible. If you ask about his day, he always gives you the most vague answers. If he can prevent you from knowing what it is that he is working on, he will. Every answer that he tells you about what he’s working on is from old projects, articles that he’s read, stolen ideas from the other scientists. He never wants you to mix with his work- no matter how draining it is for him.

Arguments are far and few between, but when they do happen, they tend to be loud and upsetting for both parties. Words slip without meaning to, and seeing the other quiet and look away with tears in their eyes, makes the fight stop. Working late nights and having to worry about being caught or something going wrong when that cannot happen, makes him irritable. He grows frustrated and snaps easily, and the few hours that he does get to rest are not enough. He doesn’t mean to snap, and always one to defend yourself, an argument will break out. Sometimes a fight will be resolved after one of you walks away to cool down, sometimes it takes the whole day for either of you two to speak to each other, pride often getting in the way. However, he hates being upset with you. You’re something good in his life, and he hates it when you won’t kiss him goodnight. So he’ll swallow his pride and apologize to you with his arms wrapping around you, kissing the top of your head.

While he isn’t unattractive by any means, and his quirks have their own charms, it doesn’t stop him from being insecure in the relationship. Whenever the two of you are in public, he feels the need to hold your hand to show to others that you’re taken, and that he’s right there. He’s never been one to take control in a relationship, and most flickered out fairly quickly, so when you both last longer than any of the ones before, he gets a bit freaked out in wondering what’s keeping you around. At night, when you're sleeping beside him, he’ll sit in bed and stare at you, and wonder what it is that attracted you to him. It must have been something, but he doesn’t know what it is and if he only knew, then maybe he could keep at it- maybe he could keep you. 

Maybe because he doesn’t know what keeps you around, and he feels that at any minute, you’d leave, he resorts to buying you things. Nothing too lavish- nothing that would make you wonder where he was getting the money to pay for such ornate accessories. He will buy you small things- your favorite snack, a set of food containers that you held and remarked at how cute they were, or a mug decorated with your favorite character. It’s all enough, and it is never enough. He loves seeing your smile, and feels his chest swell in pride when you use any of the things he’s gotten you. Whatever it is that you want, he’ll get it for you, just to see you smile up at him. You always seem to return the favor even if he isn’t all that materialistic like you are. It’s little things that you gift him- a folder for his files, a mug that he only uses at home, a shirt that he’ll wear and keep even if the threads start to peek, a pen that he keeps clipped onto his coat. 

His lips will press against the corner of your lips or your hand when out in public, he isn’t the biggest fan of public displays of affection unless he’s feeling particularly possessive. However, behind closed doors, he is a very affectionate person. He loves to wrap his arms around you and rest his head on your shoulder whenever he gets the chance. He loves the warm feeling that you start in his chest. If he could, he’d find some way to bottle it forever. He likes to be near you, even if the two of you are doing your own thing and not speaking, knowing that he could glance over and see you, is more than enough. It’s silly and he’d never admit it to anyone- especially you- but he hates not having you near him when at work. He was never a fan of pictures, but if you’re in the frame, he’s lifting the camera to capture the both of you in a moment of stillness. He sets the picture as his phone background. During work hours, if he’s not messaging you, he’s looking at the background, enraptured by your smile.

Jonathan beams under your affection. Will smile softly when he lays his head in your lap and feels your hand begin to thread through his hair and scratch at his scalp. After a long day, he melts under your touch, humming when you twist a pinch of his hair around your finger. He’ll hide his face in the soft plush of your stomach, where you can see the corner of his lips stretched in a wide grin. When you kiss him, you sometimes pepper them all over his face, and he smiles, leaning in to try to kiss you. His face grows warm under your hands as you cup his face, with half-lidded eyes, he blinks at every kiss you press against his face. They’re feathery and soft. Every press of your lips against his face has him leaning into your touch. When you kiss at his moles, he feels himself smile, and hides himself into your palm, laughing when you coo at him to turn around. 

The Spot:

After transforming into The Spot, he’s much more clingy than he was previously. When you happen to be home, he’ll give you time to relax and decompress from your work. However, once enough time has passed by, he’ll sit beside you and stretch over you. He misses you terribly throughout the day- your text messages are a clear proof of that. Plus, it’s not as if you could blame him. He’s stuck at home all day with only you to talk to, he’s grown heavily dependent on you. 

The incident messed him up- it ruined so much of his life. Without you, he’d be without a purpose, without anyone being there to ground him through his panic attacks and depressive episodes. He needs to hear from you, needs to remember that you do still care for him no matter what he looks like. There’s always going to be a part of him that’s terrified of knowing what you think of him. He saw it on your face when he first came by- fear, shock, pity. He isn’t sure what was worse, but then you cried, and you held him. There are times where you’ll kiss at a white space, and he’s fisting his hand together to restrain himself from asking for more. He can’t be greedy- not when he looks the way that he does. 

If arguments were few and far in between before he turned out the way that he is, they rarely exist now. He never wants to give you a reason to kick him out. He’ll take a house husband role and clean and cook, and do whatever it is that needs to be done around the house. In the beginning, he acted more as a guest rather than a partner. He made himself small, didn’t eat too much of the food that you brought, he’d shower when you’d leave and would sleep on the couch. Fear kept him on a leash, and he believed that maybe if you didn’t see so much of him, then you wouldn’t leave him when the time came. Whatever it is that you would have asked him to do, he would do a damn good job to prove that he could still be of some use to you. A part of him kept waiting for you to leave him like everyone else had, and when you’d invite him to sleep in your bed, sit down and have dinner with you, shower with you- he was engulfed with waves of emotion. You really did want him to be part of your life, you didn’t want a house guest, you wanted a partner, you wanted him. 

You’ll leave your phone unattended, and he’s tempted to look through your messages, to find out what you really think of him. Are you planning to leave him? Are you talking to someone else? Are you making fun of him behind his back as he lays in your bed? He never looks through your phone. He can’t bear what the ugly truth of it might be. Out of all the possibilities, he’d rather take your word that you don't mind him as he is now. You’re the one who goes shopping for the necessities for obvious reasons, and each time you leave through the door, there’s always something heavy in him that tells him that you aren’t going to come back. He waits and waits, and time ticks on slowly as if to mock him, and he’s waiting and waiting. His spots swirl and congest at certain parts of him as his anxiety increases. After sending you a quick text message, you reply immediately- always. And yet, it still isn’t enough. He must annoy you, but he can’t help it. Pressing your contact button, he’ll call you, and he must sound panicked, because you speak quietly, telling him what you’re doing and asking what he’s doing- you ground him. When you come home, he hovers over you and lays his head on your chest, wrapping his arms tightly around you.

He never wants you to let go of him. He’ll rest his head on your lap, and even if you can’t play with his hair, you still let your nails scratch over him. It’s during these moments, that you let your hands wander, the pads of your fingertips ghosting over him, teasing at his holes, before swiping down and tracing patterns over the white. You like to look at his face hole a lot is what he’s noticed. You’ve told him that even without facial features, he’s still so expressive. His body has been stretched, limbs pulled and torso compressed and while he’s always been soft, it’s much more apparent now. He’ll squirm under your gaze, and make a high-pitched noise when your hand curves over his stomach. Placing kisses over him makes his gasp for breath, especially when you interlace your hand with his and kiss where his moles used to be. 

When he first arrived at your place, he was terrified of what you’d think of him. He’d never admit that he feared that you would be like everyone else and turn him away, but you didn’t. For as long as he’ll live, he’ll always try to repay you for your kindness. He can’t take you to dinners, or buy you things, but he can certainly peek into places afterhours. He can pop into places and grab something that he’s sure you’re going to like. For a while, he can lie and say that he had gfs saved up for you, but you start to catch on when reports of robberies start to have their own section in the local news. You give him a pointed look, and he looks the other way, fiddling with one of his holes.  

It took a minute for him to get used to your fascination with him. A part of him thought it was some kink thing but when you gasp in fake-offense and shove him, he comes to the conclusion that it isn’t some kink thing. His arm will be outstretched towards you, and you’ll rim the edge of the spot with your finger. If you ever want to dip your finger into one of his holes, he’d rather you tell him first. He doesn’t have complete control over where a hole will pop up and doesn’t know the exact limitations of it, so he worries that he’ll cause some freak accident with you there. When you two cuddle together, and you want something from the kitchen, he’ll make a hole and reach what you want. It doesn’t always go smoothly, but it’s the thought that counts. You’re sure at one point, you saw the inside of a convenience store, but with the plethora of snacks, you chose not to comment, and acted blissfully ignorant when an article of stolen goods popped up. 

Due to being lonely and having an immense amount of time to himself, he is much chattier than he was before. He’ll ramble and go on for hours about any of the series that he’s watching. At this point, it’s like you’ve already watched it yourself. He’ll talk about the symbolism and parallels that the characters share, about the use of color, and how things are in reference to another one of the director’s works. It’s nice to see him so animated about something. It’s during his ramblings that his holes will vary in size and numbers. The more emotional he is, the more that they appear, and sometimes, you’ll see one appear under a cup and drop it elsewhere. You’ve been lucky so far that the cups are empty and always land in something soft. 

It’s no surprise that he’d rather not step out into public. You’re the one to do the errands and he feels bad that he can’t pull his own weight, but you always reassure him that being there is enough- more than enough. At one point, work must have taken its toll, because you come in near tears, exhausted with the clients and co-workers. You mention how one customer was particularly awful, and he holds you, running his hand up and down your back, trying to comfort you. He can’t be seen out in public with you- he fears what will happen if people know where he’s been hiding out- but he can pop in on others, and make sure that you aren’t bothered again. It’s moments like these where he’s so focused, mind swirling and reflecting on his spots, and there’s precision and accuracy on where he wants spots to appear and reappear. He never wants you to find out about what he’s doing, so he makes sure that the person can’t recount the events and that when they’re found, it looks like they fell down the stairs, body crumpled and bent in ways that can’t be explained. The next day, he makes you breakfast. 

It’s not rare to find you in one of his old shirts. Jonathan hardly ever uses them as of late, despite your claims that he should wear something considering he’s just in his skin and practically naked. He never really listens to your claims-  it isn’t as if you haven’t seen him naked before, he’s even made himself decent by hiding his shaft. His old clothing might as well get some use, and it makes him feel warm that you still wear his things- it really cements the fact that you still want him. You pull the oversized button up over a plain shirt, and call it fashion, and who is he to argue with your obviously correct statements. There’s something nice about him waking up to you wearing one of his shirts as you cook breakfast, the soft blue color and white spots, making him linger at the doorway. In the time leading up to everything, he had never thought that his life would turn this way- die by an explosion seemed so much more plausible than him becoming what he is. And now, he sits in your shared home, his body pure white and dotted with black spots, and with you, your head on his lap and his nodding off to sleep as you both watch a movie.

[bree-paints]

My copium where they all survive and they are an iconic one eyed trio

Also some random sketches because 266-267 have been killing me emotionally thank you

[vanyafresita]

IMAGINE YOURSELF.

TELL ME OF YOURSELF.

WHAT IS IT YOU WANT?

and here is some close ups from the still frames with no filters !

[doverstar]

can't express accurately how happy it makes me that c.s. lewis did not leave room for many interpretations in narnia. it's christian and you can't get around it. susan chose to care more about worldly things than what matters and he said what he said. the lion is Jesus. evil is evil and good is good and people have to choose. and that makes some readers angry because it's nearly impossible to ignore and they want to ignore it. they want it to be something else and they can't make it something else without making it not narnia. love that. that is doing it right

[wishchip106]

LET HIM GET UP LET HIM GET UP

[somnoir]

first time giving a prompt

deaged!Danny (may include Dani, Dan and/or Jazz too if you like) given to Themyscira to be raised by Kronos (Clockwork). They were given a vague reason (they either might end the world or save it. kinda like the PJO Great Prophecy "to preserve or raze")

cause a boy/s is/are involved. They get sent to be raised by Diana instead

i just really want mom!Diana to happen

god I love mom!Diana so much! I need this woman to just pop up to the watchtower with her own baby and tell the others to fuck off cause, BATMAN HAS HIS BABIES I HAVE MINE!

Percy Jackson themes? Let's go!

Children of Diana - part 1

Kronos was always a mysterious and frightening figure in their stories. The father that devoured their children upon a prophecy of a throne to be taken by his child. Five had fallen into his stomach, Hestia of the hearth fell first, whilst Hades was the last to be eaten. Only by Rhea's cunning did their youngest, Zeus, survive his father's hunger and grow to be king.

But Kronos never truly stayed dead.

He was time embodied, moving with every universe, even as he melted away from their world and into another.

Hippolyta told her stories of Kronos, along with how she wished for a child and how her love for one allowed her to make Diana out of clay and give her blessing of goddesses to be a mother to a blessed daughter. Diana heard stories from her mother of everlasting Kronos who's name shifted with worlds, with his domain of time. How the titan has moved past from his children and embedded himself into the stars.

Diana heard of his stories but never in her lifetime did she expect to be met with that same Titan.

Her first instinct was to bow, to greet this almighty titan with the proper etiquette. But Kronos only smiled at her, snapping his fingers.

One moment Diana was Louvre, then next she was beside her mother in Themyscira.

"Diana!" Hippolyta blinked, bewildered to see her daughter before the atmosphere turned tense, cold.

Once again, the Amazons were graces—perhaps even cursed—with the Master of Time's presence.

"Kronos." Hippolyta sucked in a deep breath, her stance going rigid as she prepared to greet and attack their guest. "My lord..."

"Progeny of mine," Kronos wore a purple rone that shadowed his face, with a body that floated from the ground. In his hand was a peculiar staff with a glowing blue clock. "I have no trust in my children but... You Amazons are more sensible and responsible than my brats."

"Except for Hestia. I would trust her but she is too close to them for my liking." He drawled, startling Diana.

Hestia was the eldest of the traitors, the first to be eaten. She was still referred to as a traitor and yet there is evident fondness in Kronos' voice.

"Nevermind that." Kronos waved it off, "Pandora has claimed that you are trustworthy—" THE FIRST WOMAN PANDORA?! "So I shall trust you with this prophecy. Especially, Diana... Wonder Woman. You will prove essential to the fulfillment of this prophecy."

Diana's body stiffened, unable to help but grab her mother's hand. Blessed as she was, Hippolyta squeezed her daughter's hand, comforting and reassuring before they nodded and waited for the prophecy...

Kronos was smiling.

"From the death of youth, a monarch shall rise,

To fall, and rise again with time's reprise.

Brother and sister by the throne will stand,

Balance to bring, or doom to command.

Should the path be dark, the stars will weep,

For the universe's fate, the king shall keep."

Diana's breath hitched. The prophecy was... It was scary. She couldn't fathom it. From the lines alone, there was a possibility of the universe's doom... But it involves a king of sorts.

What did that entail?

Kronos was laughing now. "Be wary, Diana of Themyscira... The High King of the infinite realms and his siblings will arrive soon..."

"The infinite realms?!" Hippolyta almost looked faint.

"Yes. The king, his royal siblings the prince and princess have entered a new cycle. Their oldest royal sister is currently regent and unable to raise them in the realms."

Diana cleared her throat, "My apologies, but why is the regent unable to raise her siblings?"

"Regent Queen Jasmine Phantom died long ago. She is a full ghost whilst her siblings are epitomes of balance, both living and dead. As they are still very much alive, being in the realms for too long during their years of development is unhealthy for their constitutions." He explained, glancing at his staff.

"It is time."

Again, Diana was startled and almost lunged forward for more answers before her mother squeezed her hand again. Her breath caught, glancing back at her mother who sent her a warning glare.

"I wish you the best of luck, Diana." Kronos smiled, almost softly, "You will do well to raise my children. I am in your debt."

All at once, Diana was suddenly the mother of three and someone the Master of Time owed a debt too.

Diana had not expected to find three children in her home. Yes, she expected to find three individuals, but she had at least expected infants. Not three children who's ages varied.

"Hello..." The middle of the three said, blue eyes, black hair, scrawny and small.

"Hello." She softly said, looking around her apartment before crouching in front of the children with the softest smile she could ever give. "I am Diana. Could you give me your names, little ones?"

"Dante." The eldest of the three, with blue eyes that flashed red, grunted.

"Daniel but I go by Danny." The middle smiled, then gestures to the toddler that clung to Dante. "This one is Danielle but she likes to be called Ellie."

The girl waved at her, rosy cheeks with blue eyes pile her brothers.

"Clockwork said we had to come to you because our sister couldn't keep us in the realms. We're sorry for the trouble." Danny grimaces, genuinely apologetic and clasping his hands together.

"I told that bastard that we didn't need to be deaged or anything. But no! He kept saying that we needed a vacation or whatever." Dante scoffed, rolling his eyes before adjusting little Elle in his arms.

Diana saw the discomfort on the eldest's expression as he tried to adjust his little sister in his arms. She offered her service to him, gesturing for Dante to give the toddler to her, bur she received a growl and a glare from crimson eyes.

One of the boys was the king of the infinite realms turned into a child. The prophecy had clearly stated that the king would be joined by his sister and brother, so the possibility of little Ellie being the king was void. So it was between the boys then.

"Don't be mean, Dan! Miss Diana is already trying her best right now. I'll tell Clockwork and Aunt Pandora that you're being mean to their favorite." Danny snapped, swatting his brother's shoulders.

"It is alright, your majesties."

"Oh!" Danny flushed red, "No need for that. You don't have to!" He insisted, "I'm not king at the moment since Jasmine demanded we were given a break... I just didn't think that a break meant going through a new human cycle."

Diana's eyes softened, so Daniel was king. "I see... I do not mind being your caretaker, little ones. I have friends who have children, and I have found myself rather envious of them. Truthfully, I never expected to beae children myself but... My mother lost the ability to have one herself, and yet she made me from clay."

Dante nodded, "We've heard of your story. It's quite beautiful how your mother loved you so much, even when you were nothing but a dream... But she managed to make you reality with that love. It's quite inspiring."

Danny soon explained, "Our mortal mother died many years ago. She and our father were ghosts, citizens of the infinite realms before my siblings and I encouraged them to follow through with reincarnation. We would have had our eldest sister do the same, but she is more stubborn than our parents." The fond smile on his lips was one tinged by melancholy and longing.

Diana realized that these children were ripped away from what they called home, forced by their own sister for their sakes. Immortal monarchs were thought to be all powerful, undying and never needing rest.

Diana herself saw it as such, with how Zeus refused to relinquish his throne, of how his siblings and children attempted to usurp him the same way he did with Kronos.

But the royals of the infinite realms seemed to be of a different breed. The dead who were once mortal, living, before time caught up to them and their existences were given to the realms. That humanity seemed to be what made the Ghostly royals to be so... Extraordinary. Because it was clear to Diana that the regent Jasmine loved her kingly brother and royal siblings with all her heart. Especially when she was willing to sit upon the throne, carry the burden of monarch, for a life time. All because she wanted them to be given a chance at happiness.

Diana has heard stories of the realms, of how the previous king, a tyran named Pariah Dark, was defeated. Phantom became king through conquest and it was rumoured he had still been a child, still alive and only half dead, when he was given the crown.

"Well then..." She cleared her throat, smiling softly. "I hope that you will be able to live comfortably with me, little ones. I will not force you to see me as a mother, but I will do everything I can to be a proper caretaker. I will love and cherish you the same way my mother and sister did."

That statement alone seemed to have affected the three, enough that Dante relaxed.

The second time Diana tried to take Ellie from his arms, Dante sis not resist. He carefully tucked his sister into her arms, showing her how she liked to be held.

Ellie giggled, reach up to her and nuzzling her cheek against Diana's chest.

"Adorable." She whispered, kissing the little girl's forehead before turning back to her brothers. "May I know how old you currently are?"

"Physically or chronologically?"

Diana chuckled, "Physically."

"I'm ten. Danny's eight and Ellie's two." Dante explained, pointing to them each whenever he spoke. "But chronologically, we're around... Actually, I don't know. Time in the realms and time here is different. It's also different from our earth. So..."

"Ah, no need to explain if it's too confusing. I understand that time flows differently for everyone. Let us just say that you've existed for a few centuries, yes? Keep it vague for everyone else." Diana grinned, already thinking of how Batman would be utterly perplexed by that.

"Well then, let us get you settled in, yes? Unfortunately, I only have one guest room." Diana frowned, cooing at little Elle that tried to wiggle our of her grasp, "I was planning on moving soon since this part of Paris is a little too loud for me."

A little white lie. She'd have to ask Bruce for help of finding a new space in a short time.

The three looked suspicious, skeptical, and already feeling guilty. Diana was quick to act, ushering them to their rooms, asking them if they've eaten and what they'd like for dinner if not.

Aside from a new place, she needed to acquire herself some parenting books. Yes. Lots and lots of parenting books, especially if her children were eldritch beings.

Maybe Bruce had more experience in that field.

No, Diana, do not think like that. You're a mother now.

Especially when she was the mother of three while Bruce was only parenting one child. Though said child was now a rather rebellious fifteen year old.

Masterpost

[nothingbizzare]

Just some kid and his hamsters

[alowkeyclown]

sure i'll go with u to the haunted ruins wreathed in half memories from your traumatic childhood PLATONICALLY COMPLETELY AND TOTALLY PLATONICALLY OF COURSE IM SO CASUAL ALL OF THE TIME DON'T EVEN WORRY

[emil1863]

The most illegal thing Koby has done is learn a divine language... Which is only a little bit more illegal than dating a God

So.

Thoughts on language/religion in regards to this au. They aren't fully fleshed out but I'll clean it up as I go.

Learning a divine language is kinda taboo, like, you can learn them, and it's certainly less frowned upon than poneglyph, but outward practice isn't really accepted. Many people who are religious or follow religious practices are well versed in divine languages, in order to feel closer to their respective Gods.

Besides, religion makes people feel at ease and the world government is pretty relaxed when it comes to punishing those for worshiping or following their Gods. With how many there are, and how deeply a lot of it is ingrained into so many cultures, it'd also be a pain in the ass to control both that and pirates.

Koby learns through the people he meets while traveling. A lot of them think it's odd but fascinating that a young, wide-eyed marine wants to learn something like that. They indulge him anyways.

He did get better at understanding the language but his pronunciation isn't great, kinda hard to make some of the sounds Luffy makes too. Especially when he isn't used to talking like that, nor are most people. Demigods have an easier time picking up on speaking the actual... Words?

Robin understands the language of the Gods, and the rest of the Straw Hats do pick up on it a little bit just through exposure to Luffy. Luffy isn't the greatest teacher, but having people who want to understand him is always exciting. He is thrilled when he meets up with Koby on Water 7 and Koby can understand him.

[deoidesign]

It's my right to tell myself I can do just a little animation just for fun just for really quick to do some action and then spend 3 days straight on it

[ricky-mortis]

Curtwen Week Day 6: Happy Ending

[serenity-the-firefly]

i think carpenter and hayward should have some kind of ghost hunting youtube channel but for unlicensed gods. they go around snarking at each other and arguing over what kind of god this is and how best to deal with it. hayward ALWAYS thinks its an old harvest god and they have NEVER once made a situation better

[just-null]

I wanna squish and smooch his cheeks 💙

You keep missing.. but it's okay, Noritoshi's happy to have your lips and hands brush his skin at all..! yet, he'd still prefer you stop missing the mark..

You're lucky he's fond of you, he wouldn't let just anyone squish his face as they pleased. though no one gives his cheeks kisses like you, so in a way this is a fair trade.

[skrunksthatwunk]

thinking about how eiji's a pole vaulter and how ash talks about eiji "flying" and how eiji's associated with bird imagery and how eiji's free (unlike ash) and how eiji comes in on a plane and leaves on a plane and how ash cannot fly, ash cannot be free, how nyc is ash's prison, and how ash is the leopard who dies climbing the mountain, unable to live at such elevation, how he was trying to reach the sky and be free but was always stuck to the earth, how he chose to die instead of climbing back down, how he chose to die where he could see the sky and hope and freedom almost like a bird with eiji's letter right in front of him rather than letting everything go wrong and ruin it once again, how eiji's a failed pole vaulter anyway, how a bad fall ruined his career and grounded him (physically and emotionally), how it took flying to america and meeting ash and needing to save him and skip for him to try flying again, how he landed hard and harsh and still the thought of that escape compelled ash to protect eiji at all costs because if he could fly that means something to him, even if he doesn't think he can fly, how eiji is the manifestation of his hope and how when he breaks and asks eiji to stay with him a while he folds himself over his legs and weighs him down and traps him and grounds him, how ash fights like hell to keep eiji alive not because he thinks he can be like him (hopeful, flying, innocent), but because he makes him forget the gravity of his situation, and so he can see eiji fly again. how he wants to see him escape. how eiji is a bird and ash is a wildcat and how ash never once saw eiji as prey. how eiji never saw ash as a predator. how it is eiji's naivete that first endears ash to him, how it is his freedom and flight and removal from darkness and his ability to leave that darkness that really roots eiji in ash's blood as something essential to him keeping on living in this hell of nyc. how it is that distance from the violence and that hope for the future that ash chooses to surround himself in as he dies. how ash dies in a dream because he feels more than anything that he can't fly like eiji, that he can never leave. how his violence is a part of him and will be forever, how it weighs him down. how he wants to enjoy the view from the mountainside rather than looking up from the ground below. as if they can both fly. as if he is with him up there and not grounded. eye-to-eye with what he can't have, seeing eiji's homeland: the sky. how he dies trying to reach the top because he couldn't take retreating and trying again. how ash, tired and tired and tired and convinced it will go on forever if he crawls back down the mountain, chooses to close his life deluged in eiji, in eiji's insistence that they can fly together, in eiji's hope for him and for them, in eiji's beautiful dream. how ash dies without trying to realize that dream. how ash, in dying, destroys it.

[egophiliac]

HOW WE FEELING ABOUT THE UPCOMING NEWSS 👹👹👹

man, it's a good thing they stopped doing the episode 7 SSRs, because I'm really low on keys and gems right now and --

OH NO

[aroaceleovaldez]

i think a lot about how early-series, demigods are referred to pretty equally as "demigods," "half-bloods," and "godlings," - the last used particularly by gods at demigods - but after that "godlings" is almost exclusively used to refer to minor gods.

something something i am literally always chewing on the concept of the line between immortals/demigods/monsters/etc being thinner than it appears