#he was a master of the comic art form

[heyclickadee]

Quick break from the bad batch brainrot, but:

One of the hilarious side effects of the various attempts to give Scrooge McDuck a backstory in various comics is that the name gets even more ridiculous. He’s called “Scrooge McDuck” because Carl Barks needed an Ebenezer Scrooge stand-in for a Christmas issue of the Donald Duck comics. He needed a ducky antagonist, so he slapped that name on him and made him Donald Duck’s jerk-ass uncle who hates everyone.

Eeexcccceeeept that the comic readers liked the character, and Barks did too, so he kept coming back, got a more solid characterization after a few different iterations, and then eventually got his own comic series. Which ran for decades. They’re all almost one off episode stories, but Barks, Scarpa, and others kept inventing other characters (parents, siblings, various Duck relatives) connected to Scrooge and Donald as needed, later comic writers/artists on both sides of the Atlantic made attempts to tie it all together into different backstories, and so.

What you end up with.

Is this whole extended Duck-McDuck-Coot family full of people who either have perfectly normal-if-old-fashioned people names (Fergus, Matilda, Hortense, Molly, Elvira, Donald, Gladstone, Casey, etc) or bird pun names (Fethry, Downy, Eider, Roast, etc) aaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnd Scrooge.

Which isn’t a real name. It’s something Charles Dickens just made up and that Barks ran with. Because he named Scrooge according to his one-off antagonist naming conventions and then unexpectedly went and made him a main character. And, yes, the most sensible option here is to just ignore how silly it is in context, because it’s a collection of Disney comics about ducks.

The funnier option, though? The funnier option is to actually think about Fergus and Downy McDuck living in mid-century Scotland a couple decades after the publication of the only book in which the name “Scrooge” appears, having their first kid, and then deciding to name their kid that. Like it wasn’t tempting fate or asking for trouble. I’m too amused by this.

[desultory-novice]

I get the feeling that Adeline is the most likely to get therapy.

...She'll probably need it too... (Pausing the fun times for something dreadfully serious) -

"Pieces"

-

[Apologies AU Masterpost] [Noir's Field Trip]

[tales-of-green-hill]

This comic follows Sonic's story after the conclusion of the Shadow Arc

You might also want to check out This Comic!

Also, this is the beginning of the following arc!

After activating the gateway ring and going through it.

[Next Part]

Here's some old art! (The design of the gateway ring has been altered since)

It's supposed to look pretty and magical instead of icky and gross

[beesgav]

loudly declaring "my city now" but the city is still pretty densely populated and I'm ignoring like 90% of it

[stargazerlillian]

Pain and Panic as they appear in "Hades: Horn of Plenty" (Part 4).

(Source)

[rockingbytheseaside]

Hii!! I love your writing sm like you’re literally my go to blog when I get bored and I end up rereading your fics 😋. Not sure if you have rules or anything so idk what I can and can’t request (IF YOU DO AND THIS ISN’T IN LINE WITH IT I’M SO SORRY.. 😭).

Could I request the harbingers crushing on reader? Like I can imagine them being slightly more lenient with reader which confuses most of the soldiers. Again feel free to ignore this 💗‼️‼️

(giggling and kicking my feet rn, this is the type of partially-satirical fluff I headcanon. Hope you like it)

✦ When they secretly have a crush on you

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Childe

✧ The ever-cold and impeccable Pierro – a mystery that even his associates and top harbingers cannot decipher. Not many can be considered as his close confidants, so none is certain of his personal life and preferences. A cold, stern man like The Jester probably doesn’t waste a glance on frivolous affairs or pleasantries. Even if many high-status people tried to approach him - aristocrats, business partners, or noble ladies; his cold gaze shuts off any initiation for close relations. No, he sees their greed for power too clearly to be swayed.

Yet Pierro harbors a deep secret. He does fancy a type… and that type is you.

It’s not simply your physical attributes or style, his ‘type’ is literally everything you embody. The shape of your jawline when you lower your face, the delicate shadow your eyelashes cast on your cheeks, how your chest moves when you take a deep sigh. From the minor and inconsequential attributes, he memorized it to his heart until the only thing his gaze is seeking is you across the room. He was always silently enamored, his eyes watching you with reverence. However, he is a mastermind, first and foremost. Concealing his inner sonnets for his love for you came naturally just as he conceals half of his face with a Khaenri’ahn mask.

You, on the other hand, were oblivious. Nervous, even. Facing off the most powerful man, cursed with immortality just as you all those centuries felt intimidating, especially when you couldn’t grasp why his gaze kept lingering so melancholically.

“It is… good to see you again, Pierro,” – that was your initial words when the two of you spoke formally. In truth, your mind was filled with wistful thoughts: he probably settled down with someone after 500 years of immortality.

In the meantime, Pierro’s mind was at comical odds with his cold exterior as he thought: Hmmm… Yes, I’ve already decided on the name of our potential third child.

But of course, he didn’t say that, even if he looked slightly mesmerized. Instead, he just settled with a polite: “A pleasure, indeed”. It's only a matter of time before he accidentally slips and calls you his spouse in front of people.

✧ Il Capitano was avoiding you like the plague, and you couldn't fathom why. Whenever you crossed paths, his oppressive silence would intimidate you further. He would linger behind you, a looming presence so quiet that at times, you’d forget he was even there. Alas, when you finally muster up the courage to approach him directly, he'd respond with the briefest of words, avoiding any attempts of chatter.

It infuriated you. So much so that you started wondering if perhaps you did something wrong. He sparred with you countless times, the taste of a battlefield is nothing foreign when he trained alongside you. You felt like a stranger. Why he was so eerily silent was beyond your comprehension, and alas, his pitch-black expression did not portray any facial clues on what he was thinking.

The truth of the matter is that Capitano has mastered the art of keeping his head impassively still. With a helmet on his face and lack of visage, no one sees his gaze ogling your form whenever you train. Your movements mesmerize him during battles, your legs swift and your stance is powerful. Of course, he would be silent when he is staring directly at your beauty in action. You rendered him speechless, and now the Harbinger is diverting himself by discreetly peeking at you. Thank the archons for his helmet hiding his gaze.

But the Captain scolds himself. No, he mustn’t! It is improper of him to even lay his eyes upon a being so diligent and strong as you, he must respect-… Nope, his head is automatically turning towards you anyway. Lost in his silent battle of self-reprimand, he didn’t notice you suddenly approaching:

“Captain, we need to talk. What is the reason for your cold shoulder towards me? If I have done something improper you must tell me… You always avoid me, even when we’re supposed to cooperate.”

The same characteristic silence followed him, however, seeing you cornering him so sternly, even the Harbinger had to drop his resolve.

“...You must forgive me. Your beauty had overwhelmed me to such an extent that I felt ashamed to admit how you rendered me speechless to approach you.”

✧ A long time ago, before Il Dottore bore the title of a Harbinger, there was a young boy named Zandik. This little Zandik was trainee Dastur, a prodigy of his field and academic year. But he wasn't the only top student of the Akademiya, in fact, this young man was standing in the shadow of a brilliant senior student whom he always looked up to with innocent wonder – you.

You weren't aware of the younger student with short turquoise hair trailing you. He, however, was aware of you because your portrait often graced the accomplishments of the establishment, thesis research, and any academic honors of the top young researchers. Since you were a senior, Zandik couldn’t share lectures with you, yet it didn’t stall him. Every thesis bearing your name, he read; every book you borrowed from the House of Daena, he memorized meticulously. His revenant studies of everything you did mesmerized his young mind, leading him to linger behind the lecture hall doors, drawn to where you so often spent your time.

It was a harmless habit, the boy believed; surely you never noticed him?

One day, Zandik spotted you chatting with your peers in the hallway. Unfortunately for you, you inadvertently left behind your precious notebook, forgotten in the rush to your next class. The young man didn't have it in himself to run after you and directly return it. Instead, it was his chance to study your secrets. His hands hesitated only briefly before he grasped the notebook, feeling the weight of the handwriting he so admired.

When he first opened the notebook, the first page read in massive writing: “I KNOW YOU'RE STEALING MY NOTES – THIEF.”

That was approximately 400 years ago. So much so that the memories of your student self were long forgotten in your mind. When you later on met the 2nd of the Fatui Harbinger, you expected the Fatuus to coerce you for cooperation. To demand you to leverage your expertise in Khaenri'ahn technology, or perhaps blackmail you into his maddening cause. But none of that transpired.

The grown man, now known as Il Dottore, stood blankly in front of you, eerily placid. His once youthful awe had matured into something far more inscrutable, like a long-buried sincerity breaking through his Doctor’s mask. Without a word, he extended a hand, offering you an old, tattered notebook. It was that same old notebook from your Akademiya days.

“... Huh? Where did you get this?”

“Perhaps a young boy was too excited to pilfer what wasn't his. I apologize for borrowing it. That boy never wanted his idol to think of him as a thief. If it wasn't so arduous to seek you out all those centuries, I would've returned it to you earlier.”

✧ With his face perched on his knuckles, Scaramouche sat down listening to your ramblings. You would think a Harbinger with his temper, would long since exhausted his patience, waving you off to scram from his presence. Yet the moment you start talking, he is obediently listening, like a devoted man waiting for his blessing from the Grand Narukami Shrine

“But I never saw you enjoy any snacks or drinks while you’re out,” – you mused with excitement, launching on a tangent about this mysterious Inazuman beside you. “Oh! How about this, I’ll start guessing your favorite pastime food or beverage and you tell me if I am right or wrong.”

Scaramouche raised an eyebrow, but crossed his arms indifferently - “A futile endeavor but suit yourself anyway.”

Undeterred, you accepted the challenge. You listed each and every single delicacy in Teyvat that you could recall, from Inazuman mochi, dango, and sake to even Mondstadt’s Cold Cut Platter and wine. The Balladeer only scoffed, amused at your silly attempts to deduce him, as if he was some mystery you should decipher.

“Ugh, Okay! My last attempt. Is it… green tea?!”

Scaramouche went silent at the sight of your anticipation - “Hm,”

“No way… did I guess correctly, at last! Are you a herbal tea enthusiast? Oh, I knew it, I knew it!”

You exclaimed with unattained joy, leaving the Balladeer to silently observe your self-proclaimed victory. The truth of the matter is - that wasn't the correct answer. Scaramouche doesn't care for any teas or snacks, not when his artificial palettes found human indulgences to be redundant. Yet, looking at your jubilant face, glowing with delight as if you’d uncovered some profound world secrets, he couldn’t bring himself to confess. How foolish.

“Hah, fine, you got me. You must be thrilled to guess something so mundane.”

“Well, maybe mundane to you, but I was pretty curious what a living puppet would prefer to drink.”

Your sudden words caused Scaramouche to freeze. He never told you he was a puppet by nature, and most people would never guess what he is. Yet here you were, stating it so simply and obviously. Most ridiculously, you didn’t seem crestfallen by the weight of this truth. “You knew…? I'm not sure if I should compliment your keen observation, or if this is another one of your random guesses. What gave it away?”

“I thought it was obvious.” - you eased a sincere smile, your hand reaching to carefully brush a stray hair on his head. “No regular human would have such a perfectly pristine face like yours. Even if they had the most luxurious face-care routine.”

If puppets had blood flow, there would've been a pink hue dusting his cheeks. It seems he was the fool here after all. Ever since that day, he has found the taste of green tea to be rather soothing.

✧ A popular misconception about Pantalone is that he allowed you to walk into his life and pursue him so easily. Trully wrong. In reality, it was this Harbinger who had been pursuing and courting you from the very beginning - like a lovestruck fool, no less.

At first, Pantalone tried to be the charmer. He’d offer you heavy bags of Mora as if it was pocket change and say in his best alluring voice - “Go spoil yourself with something new, dear. I want you to look your best on our next date.”

The issue was you were dense like a rock. Because you blinked at the mora and said simply: “Why? I already have comfortable clothes, I don’t need any right now.”

He wanted to slap himself. Any attempts at spoiling you with riches or gifts were futile, especially when you humbly rejected his monetary help out of casual practicality. You always stated that others in need would require it more. Very well, he won’t sulk just yet. He decided on his next act of refinement. He’d invite you with him to any luxurious events: galas, opera performances, dinner parties; all carefully orchestrated to impress you, showcasing how he can provide you with any wonder from the world, linking his arm elegantly with yours to flaunt how you’re accompanying the 9th of Fatui Harbingers himself.

That didn’t work as well. Whenever a business meeting occurred with vital connections, your gaze bore no interest in the wealth of the higher class, nor did you beat around the bush to dismiss yourself. Instead of marveling at the company of riches and endless champagne flutes, he’d instead find you marveling at the ducks swimming in the pond of a garden – “Look, duckies!”

Pantalone was in visible distress. All this gold that people die for yet you so naively dismissed him. Was he unworthy of your simple love? Was he too pompous for you and forgot his own origins? His self-doubt gnawed at him at night, so much so that his own subordinate would see him pacing in his office with a tremor of restlessness, thinking how he should open this topic with one he so openly treasures.

“My dear, please tell me what your heart seeks,” – he once opened the discussion with you, his hand clasping yours in an act of pleading. “I do not wish you to be uncomfortable with my actions. Just say the word and I will bring you what you want.”

Once more, you blinked at him in that same sweet innocence, but instead, you spoke with a smile: “Oh, you silly, silly man Pantalone. I never wanted your mora or status. I do not wish to be indebted to you, no. I just wish you to be as you are. If you want to take me to a restaurant, take me there, not because it’s a fancy establishment, but because it has your favorite food. Plain and simple.”

The young Harbinger didn’t know it was possible to fall in love even more. It seems he mistook your humble sincerity with naivety, never once pondering that perhaps you didn’t want a partner for the sake of connection or money. That being his true self was something he could even offer you.

In the upcoming days, Pantalone’s subordinate could clearly see was smitten beyond logic or reason. Like a grinning child, resting his chin on his palm when sitting behind a desk, feet almost kicking with excitement. He really was enamored with you from the start.

✧ If there is one thing Tartaglia’s heart relishes, it’s the rush of a challenge. And you, as a whole, challenged this young man on a daily basis. His bubbling persona and eccentricity to rush into action was an antithesis to your blunt calmness and reason. If he is the one launching into battle, you are the one who is yanking him by the collar while maintaining that unimpressed look.

Thus, as a challenge, Childe took it upon himself to make you break that serene attitude from you. At least once, and his heart will soar with victory. Unbeknownst to him, everything he did fumbled.

He started with cheesy attempts to flirt with you, flipping his ginger hair back while leaning on the wall with a captivating smile to make sure your eyes were on his form alone. It might have made you swoon, if he hadn’t miscalculated and leaned against the door instead, stumbling awkwardly when it swung open.

Another attempt was made when he tried to play the savior. The two of you were strolling when a Hydro Hilichurl Rogue stumbled upon your path in the wild, its makeshift scythe warning you two to get away. For the Harbinger, this was an easy opportunity to dispel such a puny target and save you. Except the Hilichurl Rogue kept throwing hydro slimes, which his vision of the same element was useless against. You managed to drag Tartaglia (almost) unscathed.

Everything was going against Tartaglia’s luck and he felt like an utter failure in front of you. He’s the 11th, for crying out loud, he always fairs well when something challenges him. Yet here he is, getting bandaged by you after fumbling countless times in your presence. Your first impression of him must be beyond salvageable at this point.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought you’re a problematic teen who gets into trouble all the time. Because you sure act like it,” – you stated to him simply. Securing his cuts and bruises on his shoulder.

“If I confess that such accidents rarely happen, would that change your opinion of me, or is it too late to start from zero? Ouch-” he winced when you tightened the bandages, his bruises not alleviating the sensation. The culpability of it all made him sulk, realizing he was probably putting you into trouble with all his shenanigans. “I’d die for you, you know.”

“That is the dumbest thing I've heard.”

Your words were concrete, his gaze averted with guilt and sorrow. But you continued quaintly.

“Why would anyone say something so senseless? I don’t want you to ‘die’ for me or anyone, even. What about ‘keep living’ for someone? For me… for your family, for yourself. Anyone can blindly plunge themselves to their death, but it takes actual courage and strength to keep living for those you care about. So please, do that for me instead of getting into trouble.”

The once serious expression on Tartaglia's softened with each word you spoke. Now he realizes that perhaps you putting up with his impulsivity stemmed not from frustration, but out of sincere worry. Maybe in his attempt to charm you, you were the one charming him all along. Especially when you sit so close to tend to him, it would feel so natural to wrap his arm around and embrace you.

“You’re right… I suppose it is reckless. Living for yourself seems truly priceless if it means seeing you beside me for another day.”

[vxnuslogy]

— empty souls do not breathe, they wait.

pairing: kinich x gn!reader

premise: ajaw has always thought that after kinich's death, all will eventually bow to him as their new king. what he didn't expect was to grapple with his host's loneliness and find the reason why he sought your presence during nights that grow too cold.

— warnings: slight angst if you squint

— author's note: ajaw holds a very special place in my heart so deserves to be the main character of this fic. and after almost 24 hours of having no electricity, it'll finally leave the basement. this is heavily inspired by this comic on twt so please go give it a read! art credits to @.n249 on twt. | 2.5k words.

— tags: @ryescapades @moineauz @mikashisus @https-sourlimes ; if you'd like to be tagged, please fill out the forms in my pinned!!

there was something wrong with kinich. mavuika’s eyes scanned over the wounds on the poor boy’s body and the blood dripping from his forehead. long gone was his usual bandana and golden rimmed eyes were now tainted with a strange red. 

this man is not kinich.

“so kinich has fallen, too,” her voice sullen, eyes barely able to look at the husk of one of her heroes. though her stance is not tense, it certainly wasn’t relaxed either. “kinich” followed her movements carefully—the way her hands twitched towards her claymore, her eyes he could not read, and the unmistakable tone of her voice. the pyro archon was disappointed.

“i, too, would be disappointed if you didn’t notice, archon.” kinich dipped his head low and let out a bone chilling laugh that scratched his throat the wrong way. blood stained glove came to push his hair back as mavuika stares at the eyes that did not belong to the dendro user of the scions of canopy. 

“it was a shame for that brat to die, but oh well,” a twisted grin tugged at his lips as mavuika’s face remained passive. “it is i! the almighty dragon lord, k’uhul ajaw!”

he takes a deep breath before letting his host’s arms fall to his side. “per our agreement, i will stand in and make kinich the greatest hero for all of natlan to see!”

“and would you be satisfied with that?”

ajaw’s gaze hardened as his lips tugged into a deep frown. the pyro archon’s eyes now held a fervor brighter than any hope this entity of chaos has ever seen. was she still hoping that kinich would miraculously survive?

“are you implying that not even celestia is celebrating my return? their gift is now mi–”

“the gift you claim for yourself does not respond to you,” ajaw flinches back, eyes zeroing into the vision of his person as his fists shook in rage. “dreams will die if their master has fallen. there’s more to the contract between the two of you than you think.”

ajaw sees red. teeth snarling into a disgusting scowl as he readied kinich’s weapon—ignoring the way this too did not answer his call for blood. “are you mocking me, archon?”

much to the dragon’s surprise, the woman laughs. she laughs. at him? he’ll never know because he’s already zipping away from the scene. 

“this is merely a trial, a simple waiting game.” 

“why the hell am i using that servant’s party tricks!” ajaw screams as he lands in the far distance. he’s been using kinich’s grapple hook to come to and fro natlan these days as his mind flies back to this boy’s archon and her infuriating claims. “bwah! forget it, i have other things to deal with like–”

“kinich?”

like you.

the person from kinich’s life that he’s persistently pined over for years on end—ajaw even thinks kinich does it unintentionally, the boy was missing a few screws in the emotional department after all.

ajaw doesn’t answer back. he just blankly stares how your face is drained of its color. the way your fist grips at your chest like you're about to rip your heart out and the shaky–afraid–smile you flash him as you come to sit beside him.

you kept your distance—normally you’d sit so close your fingers would slightly entangle with kinich’s. ajaw observes you from the corner of his eyes before looking at natlan in the distance. back in his pixelated prison form, he could barely see natlan as a whole, just bits and pieces as he focused his energy to disturb and plan kinich’s untimely death.

“what are you doing here?” 

how strange, ajaw didn’t mean to voice that question out in the open. especially with the way you look at him as if your world had crumbled to dust, leaving no trace of your home to pick up. something tugs at ajaw after your blank answer. the great almighty dragon lords do not feel, they wreak havoc, instill control, so why? why was this heart beating in such a melancholic rhythm?

“let’s go,” he says as he slowly comes to a stand, trying to mimic kinich’s attitude and actions towards you to the best of his abilities. you look at him, tears threatening to spill, yet you still smile and take his outstretched arm. ajaw doesn’t voice how you immediately drop his hand when you stand—you always hold kinich like your final lifeline, so why are you letting go?

ajaw understands, he simply won’t accept this fact.

you loved kinich, not ajaw.

you wanted kinich, but you still treated ajaw with the same treatment.

you treat his wounds with care, apologizing whenever he winces and flinches, pressing soft kisses to the calluses of his hands and his forehead. you let him listen to your beating heart that drummed the same melancholic melody and wipe away at the tears he never acknowledges whenever the figure of kinich’s dismantled body haunts him at night. 

you acted as if you loved him and ajaw can’t live with this anymore.

so he runs away—punishes himself into confinement until you won’t be able to follow him. and then he thinks. sitting silently on a patch of grass as the sun slowly fades into another dreadful night. now that he’s left alone to grapple with all the uncontained emotions kinich himself couldn’t answer, ajaw finds himself at a loss.

“hey kinich,” he whispers to the wind, a bare hand filled with scars and scratches—free from the gloves that didn’t fit him—tug at the fabric of his shirt, right above his heart. “have you always been this lonely?”

ajaw hugs his knees, hand grabbing at his hair harshly–this body did not belong to him, he does not deserve your kindness or love. he won’t admit it, but now under the scrutiny or judgment of no one, ajaw comes to finally admit of his stretched jealousy for you and kinich. how come this insolent servant of him had someone who deeply cared about him despite his attitude? someone who was born to accompany him through thick and thin, to infuriate and fret over but still share whatever he or you could share with one another. neither of you left each other, and ajaw wanted that.

will ajaw have to live his life like this? chasing after the shadows of your relationship with kinich until his legs finally gave out? 

“ugh! i hate you kinich!” he screams into the wind as they howl back.

“don’t say that, ajaw,” his world stills and the already chilly breeze turned colder. there you were, under the light of a fading sun with a small smile on your lips. “you’ll hurt kinch’s feelings.”

he scoffs. grip tightening as he buries his head on his arms. “then he can stay dead if he can’t handle some words from me! my servant,” his voice quivers slightly. his breathing shakes and turns shallow as you step towards him. “don’t come near me!”

you take one step, then two, then you’re sprinting to ajaw before he could run away for a second time. you cradle his head to your chest as you let his iron grip bruise your arms and silent tears be soaked in your heart. 

“my kinich would not be offended by me!”

“i know he won’t,” you say in a whisper, hand rubbing circles to his back and ajaw finally comes to understand why kinich always sought you out each night when his past comes to haunt him. you kept his fears at bay with your overwhelming love for him. ajaw wonders if there’s also some love from you reserved for him. 

the following nights, ajaw spends his time in your arms as you tell him stories from your childhood. how kinich had saved you from a safety malfunction when you went bungee jumping, the kinds of flowers you press into your journal, and the many photos from your family in different nations.

“do you not miss them, human?” ajaw asks, another photo from your mother as she stands in front of a quaint flower shop in fontaine. you only smile and tuck away another album under your bed. the sight of ajaw curiously sifting through your photos—from family, friends, and kinich—makes something swell in your chest. it bloats and bloats until you’re sure it can hold all of natlan with ease.

“i do,” you reply, sitting by the edge of your bed and looking at the dates written behind each photo. “but at least they send me things so i know they’re doing well.”

ajaw frowns in contemplation. “will they come home?”

will kinich come home?

you don’t voice out the question that’s floating in ajaw’s mind and just smile. watching the flame from the small lamp on your bedside table flicker, your reflection staring right back at you as you meet ajaw’s gaze. 

“they will, we just wait.” 

ajaw frowns. “waiting means to waste your efforts to hope for a miracle.”

despite his harshness and pessimism, you chuckle. gathering all the stray photos, you put them back neatly in the album. as you make your way to the window to close the window, you turn back to ajaw. “an empty soul does not breathe, it waits. you’re waiting, too, ajaw.”

“i am not waiting for that vermin!” he protests with a huff. you laugh as he falls back on your bed, both hands behind his head as he stares at your bedroom ceilings. a contemplative expression falls on his face as the furrow of his brows from embarrassment finally eases. “is he even still alive?”

you hum as you lay beside him. your eyes gaze at the still blazing vision on his pants and close your eyes. “a person’s vision is their ambition. they die out when it's been fulfilled or when its master passes,” ajaw looks at you with storm clouds in his eyes but you shift in your position and gently close them with your hands. “so long as kinich dreams, he’ll still live. he’s not the type to leave business unfinished.”

tonight ajaw dreams—he hopes that your belief turns out to be true. in the blanket of night he’s grown to be afraid of, he sees you and kinich. but strangely enough, he sees himself in between you two—not as an obstacle, but as a part of your happiness. ajaw finds himself really liking this dream. 

the night kingdom, like its name suggests, is a perpetually cold and dark landscape with only the wayob in front of him casting a faint light. small engravings of his ancient name glows in a light purple as he gazes at his hazy body. surprisingly enough, his bandana still stayed securely on his head. 

“seems like i’m still under the wayob’s protection,” he says to no one in particular as echoes about a flame burning bright eases his worries. “if i’m still here then surely we must have won.”

kinich was about to turn and walk away—to where? he’s not quite sure. as he takes a step after another, the wayob—the original bearer of his ancient name—speaks to him in a voice he can only describe as all knowing; omniscient like his archon.

“you seem troubled, “malipo” kinich,” it said and this makes kinich stop in his tracks. “do you not trust your little companion to bring you victory?”

kinich doesn’t answer immediately. he takes his time to weigh out the answers he could reply with. “trust is a strong word. we’re only bound by a contract after all. i’m simply weighing the chances of my gamble.”

the wayob chuckles, deep and fatherly. kinich felt his shoulders start to relax a little more as the wayob continued to speak to him. “bearers of the “malipo” name are often accompanied by saurian companions through thick and thin. some, if not all, of them had an unbreakable bond between them.”

“so i’ve heard,” kinich says, arms crossing over his chest as he questions, “but a lot of people have questioned your judgment because of it.”

kinich hears a chuckle again as he hears something akin to glass breaking in the distance. 

“i’m well aware, “malipo” kinich. which is why i’m glad,” when kinich looks up to the dark sky, hundreds of shattered fragments rain down on him but he doesn’t shield himself. he feels his heart beat a little faster when he catches sight of his body—lacking his bandana and gloves—land a few feet away from him.

“my judgment was proven right, once again.”

“wait–” but the wayob had lost its glow. kinich doesn’t get the chance to dwell on it further as his own body possessed by a small dragon is grabbing him by the shoulders and screaming at his face.

“consider yourself lucky that i see some value in you “malipo” kinich!” the dragon shouts as he raises his hand, the same hand he always uses to summon ajaw’s power before being blinded by a green glow. “consider this an investment! so you better bring in some profit or i’m taking your beloved as hostage!”

a persistent series of knocks on your front door rudely awakens you from your slumber. grumpily leaving your bed, you try to rub the sleep out of your eyes as you prepare yourself to berate whoever is at your door at this ungodly hour.

“what is it—”

“you win this time, human!” a small dragon screams at you. you blink a few times as you hold out both your hands for ajaw to land on as he huffs and obliges. “i’ve fulfilled my end of the deal, so you better keep yours!”

“please don’t tell me you actually made a deal with him…” when you look up, you feel tears threaten to spill from your eyes again. kinich stands there, a sheepish hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looks at you in distress. you let ajaw go and let your hands drift to kinich’s face, dragging them under his eyes and tracing over his lips as a ghost of a smile starts to form.

you chuckle in disbelief. “yeah, maybe i have.”

“i hope you know the consequences of your decision,” you sneak a peek at ajaw who has his little pixel arms crossed over his chest. you turn back to kinich, a smile on your lips as you tug him inside your not so empty home. “you’ll just have to wait and see.”

ajaw quietly watches as you make kinich some food, a homely ambience blankets the house as you and kinich catch up. he’ll never openly admit it, but he’s glad you agreed to his deal. he feels kinich’s eyes follow him like a hawk as he sits himself down on your shoulder. you offer him a spoon of food but he only huffs in decline. 

you’re waiting has paid off, though ajaw will never verbally admit. the other half of both your souls has come home and your statement was proven right: ajaw’s soul—as well as yours—will always wait for kinich to come home.

and kinich smiles, because like ajaw, he’ll never verbally admit how he’s been waiting for him to save him from the night kingdom all this time.

© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.

[camilledlc]

I think Wade Wilson is way more intelligent than people give him credit for. Or, another character essay no one asked for :

This will be based both on comics and movies. Also, spoilers for Deadpool and Wolverine.

I think it's often said that Wade doesn't know how to read situations, as he often acts inappropriately during them. He doesn't seem to sense the mood of the person he's talking to, angering them more often than not, and he doesn't really care about watching his mouth around children, etc. There are tons of examples of Wade being 'stupid', and 'immature', blah blah blah. But I don't think that's quite true.

Wade has also numerous moments where he perfectly reads a situation. He is extremely aware of how others may perceive his scars, he figured Negasonic Teenage Warhead pretty easily during the first movie (when talking about sarcastic comments or whatever, if I remember correctly). He knows how people act and think, and he definitely knows how to assess a situation. When he got Johnny Storm killed, he knew what he was doing. He was into a dangerous situations, just having been kidnapped and he couldn't fight, not even knowing how strong and what powers Cassandra Nova had. But by turning her against Johnny, not only was he able to assess her, but also prove that he wasn't here to cause her trouble. It was a cruel and ruthless action, but it was smart nonetheless.

Besides, people often forgets very important facts about his skills. Wade is an extremely good fighter, and that's partially due to the fact that he's a master at almost every martial arts. He knows a bunch of them, and he is capable of practicing them with impeccable form. He's also a master at espionage, infiltrations, cover missions, etc. He knows how to handle a lot of different weapons, and he is canonically one of the best fighters in the entire Marvel Universe. All of those skills require a certain level of intelligence. Fighting demands to remember the different styles and techniques, as well as enough practice to switch between them easily. Espionage, infiltration, and cover missions demand someone who is capable of discretion and and ability to judge a situation, notice details that no one else would and invent on the spot creative ways to do things. All in all, he has to be extremely smart to be able to do all of that. That's also without counting the fact that he knows how to speak fluently five different languages.

With all of these proofs, it's impossible to say that Wade is dumb. But why does he acts like it?

There is no official answer as to why Wade is this way. The most you can get is that he is extremely mentally unstable. This is the result of both a bad childhood and very traumatizing experiences as a superhero. It is said he was already mentally unstable during his childhood, so I'm inclined to believe that it also has something to do with his brain in general.

What I personally believe is that Wade is someone who gets bored extremely easily. He has ADHD (not really official in the movies, but canon in the comics), and he always seems to jump from one topic to the other. His mind is often considered a mess, and he himself sometimes has trouble keeping up with it. I think that someone like him has to be stimulated at all times, because boredom is definitely the worst thing that could happen to him. Even in the last movie, he seemed to hate his job because of how boring it was, not hesitating to go back into action and becoming more and more himself again as he just do exciting things. He has always been like this, even before he got his regenerating factor. When he did his job, he wasn't always careful and often loud-mouthed. It didn't interest him to just kill people, he wanted a fight. He wanted a back and forth, a sort of game. He needs to feel in danger, needs the thrill of it.

But then he gets his mutation. Suddenly, he can't die, he can't be seriously hurt, nothing has any real consequences. And so the games became boring. What is the point of putting himself in dangerous situations if he's never really in danger? How boring it is to do a job where you're perfectly safe? The only kind of thrill he can find anymore is by having the back and forth verbally. That's when it has consequences, and people actually able to surprise him, to beat him even. Attacking by talking his is one way to not feel bored. He surprises, he shocks, he annoys, but it's always different. Even during the last movie, when he was with Logan, he clearly said they didn't need to fight, yet he couldn't stop edging him verbally, always finding ways to push his buttons.

Wade is a very bored person, with a great understanding of where the limits are. And because he's so good at finding the limits, he's even better at crossing them willingly, sometimes at the expanse of the people he loves, because he can't be bored.

(I also like the interpretation of him just needing to be at the centre of attention, but I think it's a bit more classical and has already been done and re-done. So, this one is a bit trickier and way funnier for me.)

[jarofstyles]

Can you write something about love bites pretty pleaseeeeee like Harry’s obsessed with giving them

Yes 🤭🤭🤭🤭 here is a tiny one!

Check out our Patreon

Warnings- kinda dirty hehe

——

“So pretty.” Fingers brushed over her sensitive skin as she looked in the mirror, trying her best to ignore how the sensation wanted to make her shiver. The large form behind her wasn’t helping her achieve that at all. “You look so gorgeous tonight but… my favorite are these.” The marks on the curve of her neck that he’d sucked into pretty bruises, blooming purple.

It was no secret between them that Harry quite liked the marks on her, but he liked putting them there the most. “Thank you.” She laughed through her nose, blending the makeup on her cheeks before setting the little sponge down. “But you’re very distracting, you know that? How am I supposed to cover them if you’re petting all over them?”

“Don’t!” The whine was nearly comical as she caught his scowl in the mirror. “Don’t cover up the art, precious. Leave ‘em there.” It was a travesty, in his opinion, any time they were covered with makeup. Even if she was quite talented at the magic of making them disappear, he didn’t appreciate his little marks of love being covered up. “S’not like we’re going to the Louvre- which, they’d probably appreciate the art anyways. We’re goin’ for drinks at a dingy club to buy overpriced martinis while we chat shit while I wait for you t’get tired enough for me to bring home and love on you.”

Harry was many things. Blunt was one of them.

“Tell me how you really feel, H.” She snorted, putting powder under her eyes. Her hand stuttered though, when she felt him tuck his face into her neck and a wet, hot swipe licked over the marks. It was a bit pathetic how quickly she felt lax, like a dog rolling over for belly rubs, but she gave a shaky exhale as his teeth found a new patch of skin to nibble on.

“I feel like… you should leave those marks so people know t’fuck off, that you get fucked well, that you’re mine. Let their imaginations run wild about how I gave ‘em to you balls deep, or if I did them just like this. As long as they know that you’re a loved and taken woman, m’a happy man.” The grumbles against her skin were finished with another bite, eliciting a noise blooming from her throat.

It was hard to say no to the man in most capacities, with his soft green eyes and his strawberry pout, but when he ran his hands over the front of her dress and his tongue over her throat as he found a new patch to work on, sucking harshly enough to make her knees weaken and her clit throb between her legs? It was impossible. “Harry…” the sigh of his name was accompanied by the lull of her head back against his shoulders, letting him slip his hands under the front of her dress and the makeup brush fall into the sink.

“Lucky we’re even goin’ out when all I want to do is worship that sweet cunt all night. But I’ll be good, I’ll let you get finished with your makeup and all that if you leave ‘em be. Show ‘em off for me. Please?” The plead was melted into her bones, breathing picking up as his fingers cupped over her lace covered cunt, holding it firmly. The man knew how to get his way and this was a solid example. The sweet and silly vibe of the room transforming into the hot and sensual teasing one that he had mastered the art of. ��I’ll let you choose whatever you want me t’do to you tonight. Whatever my girl wants. Jus’ let me give you another one and leave my art alone. Everyone should be able to see it.”

How could she say no to that?

[dark-konohagakure2]

imagine succubus!reader lurking in the phantomhive manor to find a victim for the night cause a succubus gets their energy if they take control but ends up getting caught and noncon-ed by sebastian until she cant take it anymore and begs to stop

UGHHH I HAVE BEEN STUCK WITH THIS IDEA SINCE THE DAY I IMAGINED IT 😭😭 petition for more succubus!reader fics 😔

tw: noncon, succubus!reader, size difference, tail pulling, rough sex, overstimulation, humiliation, creampie

All characters depicted are 18+

Sebastian takes his duties as the butler of the Phantomhive household very seriously, so seriously in fact that he doesn't ever sleep, mainly because demons don't need to sleep, but the fact still remains that there is no butler more diligent than Sebastian. His keen senses are able to pick up on the smallest of noises, even the faintest creak of the floorboards won't escape his notice. If a pin dropping doesn't go unnoticed by Sebastian, then there is no way in hell that he won't notice the presence of another hellish entity in his midst.

He is equal parts intrigued and concerned. Sebastian knows he can effortlessly dispatch any threat towards his master, bit even so the thought of another demon being after him is quite concerning. Never one to waste his time dwelling on any worries he might have, Sebastian will quickly do his part as a butler by apprehending the uninvited guest.

It's comically easy for Sebastian, he's not called a devil of a butler for nothing, he's able to use his superior strength to yank the little demon over to him when she's unaware, grabbing her by the pointy tail, which makes her hiss out in pain like a cat. Sebastian likes cats, even the ones with claws, but he sadly can't pet her, not when she's been such a bad girl as to even attempt to endanger his master.

Sebastian knows precisely how to deal with a naughty little succubus like herself, her kind feed off the sexual energy and desires of men, so he'll give her exactly what every succubus wants, he'll give it to her until she's begging him to stop. It's a fitting punishment for the demonic intruder, and it finally gives Sebastian the opportunity to stop feigning his humanity, even if just for a short while.

"Naughty thing, did you truly believe you could intrude oh my master's property without consequence? Oh how adorable~ I'll be sure to give you something to remember before sending you back to our home~"

His eyes are glowing unabashedly now, the glowing red orbs now having a feral intensity to them as he starts teasing the lesser demon, yanking on her tail roughly as he exposes her holes to his hellish gaze, teasing her sensitive pussy lips mercilessly before he decides to have his fill of her. Sebastian hasn't had a good fuck in a while, and certainly never with another demon that was aware of his true nature, so he's going to savor this rare treat.

Being centuries old, Sebastian is well versed in the art of making somebody come undone around his cock, whether they want to or not. His hips will slam against her from behind, his balls slapping against his ass while he fucks her raw, pulling on her tail like a bully pulling on the braids of a girl he likes. Sebastian's cock is long and thick, even in his human form, so it'll ram against her oversensitive womb with every thrust, forcing her into one mind breaking orgasm after the other.

Demons typically can't reproduce with one another, so Sebastian can cum inside of her to his heart's content without a care in the world, and he won't be satisfied with cumming inside of her just once, he's going to breed her until she's begging him to stop, and for hours after that too. It won't take long for her to go from confident and rude to whining and pleading with him to show mercy, but nothing will come of those pleas aside from her receiving even more mockery and even more loads shot into her already overstuffed womb.

He finds her reactions and pleading to be both adorable and pitiful, not to mention ironic; a creature who feeds off of sex now begging him to stop fucking her, her impish pussy overflowing with cum and weakly gripping his cock, fucked loose from the brutal pounding she's getting. He definitely won't be stopping anymore despite her pleas, after all, lesser demons make lovely fucktoys.

"Oh my~ begging already, little one? How sad, your kind usually loves getting ravished so, you truly are a disgrace from all demonkind~! How cute~!"

But alas, he can't keep this adorable little kitten as a house pet as much as he wants to, his young master would never allow such a thing, but Sebastian takes pride in the fact that he successfully subdued another interloper, and she won't mess with him again, that is unless she wants her holes destroyed again.

[kitkats-and-kittens]

I know Dc has always proclaimed Tim Drake as the best detective and the smartest Robin and he is. By conventional measurements he is the best detective and he’s very smart but I wish they would acknowledge that each Robin is incredibly smart in their own way.

Dick Grayson is a master manipulator. He’s a genius when it comes to reading people and honestly whenever I need to write young him in fanfiction I literally just do Missy for Sheldon.

He’s smart. Book smart, but also people smart and people need to acknowledge this more it pains me to see DC forget this in exchange for a far more fannon. Far less complex version of him. He’s smart! Let him be smart.

Jason Todd is also book smart, though less mathematics and science and more classical literature. That man knows his way around the collections of Fyodor Dostoyevsky and that’s not even mentioning his street smarts.

He may not be the best conventional detective but he knows how to distinguish different gangs and their territories. He knows where dealers like to run their shops and he knows when a crime is too messy to have been caused by any of the rogues in the area.

Stephanie of course is a mix of the two. She’s good with people and she’s good on the streets but she’s also for very obvious reasons amazing at puzzles. Any tricky, seemingly impossible sort of quiz she’s got it, which is especially useful when the criminals of Gotham enjoy sending their hero’s on a wild goose chase.

She’s incredibly good at seeing through riddles and word vomit and she’s an amazing detective in her own right which should be used more.

Cass has been proven to be a great detective on so many occasions and of course do we even have to mention how adept she is at reading body language?

Her knowledge of combat is obviously unmatched and I’d love to see comics take this and apply it to her detective skills. How cool would it be for her to analyse a corpse and tell the fighting style of the assailant just by noting where on the body the strikes landed?

Realistic? No, but this is comics. Let me have my fun.

Damian was obviously trained in a dozen forms of martial arts, but he’s obviously knowledgeable about other things. The LoA are eco terrorists. You’re telling me that kid doesn’t know plants?

And that’s not even mentioning his knowledge of weapons and how he knows the ins and outs of organised crimes after living surrounded by it for a decade.

Plus his undercover skills.

Duke is new to me so I don’t know as much about him, but like Jason and Steph he grew up in the narrows and was part of gang, plus he apparently survived the riddler at like age 7 (pls don’t quote me on this I know practically nothing about zero year). So I can assume he’s incredibly intelligent. Street smarts! Also his powers let him look into the past which as evidenced in WFA can be used to help solve crimes.

Like I don’t want them to be conventional detectives. Let Tim be the Sherlock Holmes of the family. He’s already shown to be very observant.

I want to see more of the batfam using their own unique skill sets to solve crimes. They’re all good detectives they just have different ways of solving crimes.

Pls Dc, they would look so cool. If WFA can do it so can you! 😭😭

[tangledinink]

PATREON - KO-FI - COMMISSION INFO

'hey, whatchya makin' over there--? oh good god--'

yay! a ✨masterpost.✨

general art tag is here.

faq is here-- plz consider reading before you send an ask!

friendly reminder post!

-> 💎 I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now?

[ rottmnt au in which splinter is able to obtain cloaking brooches when the turtles are still tots, and they live their lives are 'normal' humans, so very much so that they eventually forget their mutant origins... until they remember... ]

cw: themes of child neglect/endangerment, child abuse, gender dysphoria, self-sacrifice, and mental illness. plz be mindful of tags.

-> 💫 Gemini AU

[ rottmnt sep au focusing on leo and donnie raised by big mama in the grand nexus hotel and performing in the battle nexus-- and, eventually, their long-lost family members. ]

cw: themes of child abuse, self-sacrifice, cults, blood and injury, ableism, emotional manipulation, sexual assault, and csa. plz be mindful of tags.

-> 🦶 Foot Squad AU

[ rottmnt au in which the turtles were raised in the foot clan alongside cassandra jones, and, eventually, april o'neil ]

cw: themes of child abuse, cults, and emotional manipulation. plz be mindful of tags.

-> 🧬 TMNT: Stabilize

[ tmnt fan iteration following the turtles' attempt to uncover the origin of the mutated forms in order to save the life of their father, master splinter ]

cw: themes of child neglect, parentification, chronic/terminal illness, death, mental illness, psychosis, and self harm. plz be mindful of tags.

-> 🦢 Swanatello

[ that's right-- the au the fandom has for SO LONG been asking for. a rottmnt x swan lake crossover. you guys... you guys HAVE been asking for this, right...? ]

cw: themes of memory loss/delusions/unreality, domestic abuse, and death. plz be mindful of tags.

-> ☘️ Clover Crown

[ in which leo is spirited away to the feywilds, home of the fae and their kingdom... without the rest of his family, however, he's forced to navigate his new surroundings and companions on his own. ]

cw: themes of body horror, abuse, ableism, and emotional manipulation. plz be mindful of tags.

-> 🐢 Processing Grief Through Ninja Turtles

[ a very loose 'series' of comics exploring grief/loss with rottmnt ]

cw: themes of grief, death, loss of a parent, and loss of a sibling. plz be mindful of tags.

[sadlilghostt]

BURN A MOTH

Characters : angel dust, alastor, vox, valentino x human reader.

๑ | synopsis : angel came back to the hotel with a beaten bruises on his face, once you saw this your heart dropped at the sight that you started bombarding him question which he refused to answer, but you kept pestering him. Once he finally admitted, oh dear Satan hell have never been more hotter than your rage.

๑ | tw : cursing, bit blood will be mentioned.

๑ | a/n : this is actually an adaption of the small comic I made, click here to see the art!

Master list | master list

Sipping your coffee as you him yourself a tune while reading the book in your hand as the hotels door slammed opened revealing your favorite spider demon.

Upon seeing his figure, your mood brightened seeing him as you dropped your book and skipped to the tall spider.

" Angeeeel! " you beamed, but after seeing his whole form stopped from you from pouncing on him as your felt your heart dropped.

Angel was covered in bruises and a busted lip and a black eye on his right eye.

" holy shit- angel, what happened to you?! " you scurried closer to him trying to reach for his cheeks but failed due to his height and leaning away.

" I'm fine toots, just got into a fight. " he murmured as he held your shoulders refraining you from jumping on him.

" nah nah, don't give me the "just" angge, you're literally a mess! " you huffed as your grabbed his hand and pulled him to the sofa. " sit. "

" toots- 's ok- I'm fi- " you cut him " sit. The. Fuck. Down. " that was enough for him to shut his mouth and flipped himself to the sofa.

He flinched when he felt your fingers into his busted lip, his other arms went to grab your waist while his other set of arm were on your shoulders and his other arm was on your wrists, stopping you from touching his face further.

" what the f- angel! Let me look! " you groaned as you climbed into the sofa in between his legs as you reached out to his face.

" 'm tellin' you! I'm fine! " he groaned as he pushes you away but you kept pushing yourself into him.

" fine?! Bitch- you're literally bleeding! "

" angel... Please? "

Angel groaned more as his grip from your waist and hand lessen finally giving you an access to him. Your hand softly touched his cheek with him flinching in the process, angels head turned away from you, away from your eyes. You could see tears swelling up into his eyes as your eyes scanned his injuries more.

Angel felt terrible, he felt worse, he felt... Dirty, he hated it.

He sighed deeply before turning to you.

"Satisfied? " he asked but stopped once he saw your dark expression.

".... Y/n?.. "

" angel.. I want the names. "

" huh? Why? - "

" names. Please. "

Angel sighed in defeat " fine.. It's my boss, valentino.. Don't know the fuck happened to that dick but that jerk suddenly barged in 'ta my room and started roughin' my shit up. " he groaned, at the story he just told you, everything around you gone blank as your vision started to go red.

"... Uh y/n?.."

Alastor was just in his room, playing soft songs to his radio while he enjoyed his venison when he heard footsteps outside of his door before his door was barged open.

His smile became strained as his brows knitted as he saw the certain spider demon out of breath in his door step.

" ever heard of knocking before or have you just loose your manners entirely. " alastor scowl but his smile still remains.

His antlers becomes larger as symbol starts to appear around him as the statics became loud.

" this better be very important or I'll have your head on my wall for disturbing my dinner like that and barging into my door without my permission. " he growled as his neck snapped side way.

Once angel finally catches his breath he raises his head to face the radio demon.

" i-its.. Pant it's the human! Fuck- hurry and get your ass out of here! "

The sound of the television bugging and short circuiting and crashes filled the bee's tower.

" OW- WHAT THE FUCK- HOW ARE YOU THIS POWEFUL?! " valentino screeched as he tried to fly away but only to be stabbed by a thrown butcher knife on his wings by you. " FUCK! " he cursed as he glanced at his pierced Wing trying to tug the butcher knife off of his wings, he glanced back at his fellow tv demon but his eyes we're blown wide only to see a hanger piercing into his screen. Val stopped from his movements when he saw your shoes.

He slowly tilted his head up to see you glaring at him with another butcher knife on your hand.

Before all of this chaos, the vee's were just peacefully doing their thing when screams and crashes echoes below their floor. When vox came to check it out, he saw his staff beaten up and then a human in the center of the room, walking towards his direction, vox tried to stop you but only to be shoved away by you. Vox didn't like that so the two of you fought for a moment before the moth overload finally came down and aw the two of you in each other's neck, once you saw the sight of him, your attention quickly changed to val. And then this happened, but with vox now laying on the floor with a hanger on his screen.

" I'm gonna fucking tear that shitty ass wings and give that shitty lookin cottond to nifty and make it my door mat and hang your head into my wall. " you grinned as you raised your butcher.

" might as well chop your dick off and feed it to the cannibal~well if you have one. " you giggled as you saw val paled.

Valentio screamed as you swung the butcher towards him only to be you pulled back.

" alright that's enough. " a familiar static voice called behind you.

Alastor held you by the back of your T-shirt as you still tried to advance to Val as he screams.

" AAAAAAAAAAAAAA "

" as entertaining this is but I cant have my little human wiping out the vee's just like that! Imagine! Getting killed by a mere human! " alastor humored as his eyes landed on a defeated vox.

" oh how pathetic! "

Angel was just behind alastor, his mouth was dropped open as he saw the massacre you made.

"... Holy shit.. "

[sophieinwonderland]

The Plurality of... Avatar: The Last Airbender

Major Spoilers For Avatar: The Last Airbender ahead! And minor spoilers of related properties.

Water. Earth. Fire. Air. Long ago, the four nations lived in harmony. Then everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked. Only the Avatar, master of all four elements could stop them. But when the world needed him most, he vanished.

Welcome to the world of Avatar: The Last Airbender. A world where some people are born with the gift of bending, an ancient art that allows them to control one of the four elements. But only one. Even if they came from parents who were different types of benders, each bender only gets a single element.

But there exists a single exception to this rule. The Avatar. The one person in the world who can master all four elements.

But we're not here to talk about the Avatar's cool bending powers. We're here today to talk about…

The Plurality of The Avatar

Plurality: A state of multiple self-conscious agents, or "headmates," sharing a single body.

The Avatar isn't merely a jack of all trades bender. Simply knowing how to use the four elements is only a small part of their toolbelt. And perhaps one of the least important. Despite the series placing a strong focus on the need to master all four elements, perhaps the actual most important thing about the Avatar is that they reincarnate and are connected with their past selves.

This allows each Avatar to speak to and learn from the experiences of past avatars. This is most prominent in what's called the Avatar State, a sort of super form where their eyes (and downvotes) glow as they channel the skills and abilities of all the past avatars through them.

(Art by @joeyscomics)

Aang's avatar state is a sort of blending of the avatars without a distinct identity of its own.

Additionally, there were also a couple instances through the show where Aang, the current avatar, switches into other avatars.

During the season 1 mid-season finale, The Winter Solstice, Aang first contacts Avatar Roku, his firebending predecessor. Trapped in a temple with no way out, a group stands outside the door prepared to strike as soon as the avatar steps through. They expect to see a small child walk through the doors. But what they see instead is Avatar Roku.

Once the enemies have been defeated and fled, Roku turns back into an exhausted Aang, who drops to his knees.

In season 2, this happens again with Aang switching into avatar Kyoshi. Again, sure to spirit magic, Aang physically transforms into Kyoshi.

(Obviously, real plurals don't physically transform, as cool as that would be. But spirits in the avatar universe do have shape-changing capabilities, being able to alter both their own forms and the forms of others. There are many examples in Legend of Korra and the comics, but one big one we see in A:TLA is Koh The Face Stealer, who as you can guess, steals people's faces, physically transforming their bodies. Simply put, we can accept the Avatar Spirit as having the ability to naturally shapeshift.)

So there's the basics of the Avatar's plurality. We have multiple people sharing a body. We have system-like internal communication. We have switching. And we even have a state that could be best described as blendy.

In the plural community, a system that's formed from past lives is sometimes called Fenigenic or Phoenigenic, drawing its name from the phoenix; The mythical bird that dies and is reborn from its ashes.

From Pluralpedia:

Fenigenic is a system origin that describes systems who formed from past lives in some way. They may believe they left their past life and were reborn again as a system, came into the system from a past life into the body (causing plurality), were a system in a past life and were reborn again with the same one, and/or various other scenarios. This is an intentionally broad label that can describe many different experiences.

With these established facts, without a doubt, the avatar would qualify as a Pheonigenic system.

But I want to delve even deeper. Because at its core, Avatar: The Last Airbender isn't just a story about a kid who happens to be plural. It's a story about plurality. It's a story about dissociation. About connecting with and building connections with parts of yourself. And about taking responsibility for those parts, even when you aren't actually them. And all of this is what make the series so fascinating from a plural perspective!

The Avatar State as a "Self-Defense Mechanism"

At the beginning of season 2, Aang enters the avatar state while scared of losing his friends, and talks to Roku again. Roku explains to Aang what the avatar state is.

The Avatar State is a defense mechanism, designed to empower you with the skill and knowledge of all the past Avatars. The glow is the combination of all your past lives focusing their energy through your body. In the Avatar State, you're at your most powerful... but you are also at your most vulnerable.

At this point, Aang learns that if he dies in the Avatar State, the cycle breaks and the avatar will never reincarnate again.

Let's take another look at that wording though. "The Avatar State is a defense mechanism." It's a word choice that you wouldn't expect to find in a fantasy cartoon. "Defense mechanisms" are more a psychological term, having their origins in psychoanalysis.

Why does this matter?

Because the avatar state, at its core, is a dissociative state. And dissociation has often been described as a defense mechanism itself. From Wikipedia:

In mild cases, dissociation can be regarded as a coping mechanism or defense mechanism in seeking to master, minimize or tolerate stress – including boredom or conflict.

And later when talking about traumamatic dissociation, it goes on to explain:

Symptoms of dissociation resulting from trauma may include depersonalization, psychological numbing, disengagement, or amnesia regarding the events of the abuse. It has been hypothesized that dissociation may provide a temporarily effective defense mechanism in cases of severe trauma; however, in the long term, dissociation is associated with decreased psychological functioning and adjustment.

What's interesting about the avatar state is that, while there are some times Aang goes into the Avatar State to protect himself, often he enters it as a response to stress in general.

The first couple times we see Aang go into the Avatar State, it's to physically protect himself. Once to freeze himself. Then again to fight Zuko. But the next time he enters the Avatar State, there's no danger. There's no need to use it.

This is when he's at the Southern Air Temple, and sees his old friend Monk Gyatsu. It's when he really learns and has to process that he's the last airbender and everyone he ever knew is dead.

Aang doesn't use the avatar state as a physical defense mechanism here. Rather, he enters the avatar state as a psychological defense mechanism.

It takes over because he's disengaging. He just learned something traumatic and he can't come to terms with it. He shuts down, and his friends have to reach him through the pain.

This becomes a pretty common theme throughout the series from then on. Sometimes, it's the physical danger that causes him to transform. But other times, he's triggered into this state by his friends being in danger, or from losing Appa.

Time and time again, we see the Avatar State as being triggered by extreme mental stress more often than by any sort of physical stress.

A big part of Aang's journey though the series then becomes learning to master the Avatar State and the dissociation that comes with it. To take control of it instead of letting it control him.

Avatar's Take on System Responsibility

"System responsibility" is the concept in the plural community that if one headmate does something, then the entire system of headmates is responsible for it. Some feel this is unfair, but for practicality, it makes sense. If someone steals something, then obviously you can't send only one headmate to prison. So a big part of being plural ends up having to accept that if someone else you share a body with does something wrong, even if you don't agree with it or don't even remember it, you're responsible for it.

And Avatar has its own form of this, where all Avatars have a single spirit that is reincarnated, and are therefore responsible for the actions of their past lives.

This is most exemplified in the episode Avatar Day.

In this episode, the Gaang wander into a town that's celebrating the titular Avatar Day. They see a parade with massive wooden floats of the past three Avatars. Aang, Roku and Kyoshi.

What appears to be a nice festival that the Gaang is enjoying is quickly turned on its head when a villager sets fires to the figures and the crowd begins chanting "down with the Avatar" while the figures burn.

It turns out, this town believed Avatar Kyoshi murdered their leader, Chin The Great.

In order to prove he wasn't a murderer, Aang volunteers to stand trial. Even though Aang and Kyoshi are separate people in a way... in another, they aren't. And Kyoshi being a murderer is something that would continue to follow Aang around.

So he agrees to go on trial, and refuses encouragement from his friends to escape. And he could escape if wanted to.

When viewed through the lens of a plural system, what we see here is a demonstration of system responsibility, where Aang is showing himself willing to take responsibility for the actions of past Avatars.

Later in the episode, Katara decides that they need to call Kyoshi herself to prove their innocence, and dresses Aang in Kyoshi's clothes to "see if it might trigger something."

And it actually does! This stunt causes Kyoshi to take front! (With a full body transformation because spirit stuff.)

In the end, Kyoshi confesses to killing Chin, who she calls Chin the Conqueror, and Aang is willing to accept the outcome of the trial.

It's not just this one episode though. It's a running theme of the series.

The franchise even.

In season 3, Roku reveals that the whole reason the world was in danger was because of his connection to and weakness in stopping Fire Lord Sozin, who went on to wipe out the Air Nomads. Aang is left with the responsibility of making up for Roku's mistakes.

In the books, it's revealed that Avatar Kyoshi's earliest trials were a direct result of the failings of Kuruk, the avatar before her. And his were a result of Yangchen's mistakes. And in the sequel series, avatar Korra is left to make up for the mistakes of not just Aang, but also Avatar Wan who started the cycle.

The Avatars are people who share a single soul. Each new avatar can be viewed as a new host in the same system. And each one therefore is responsible for making up for the mistakes of those that came before.

This is what the avatar franchise, at its core, is about. A single system making mistakes through life after life, and having to fix those mistakes in the next, hopefully making the world a better place and keeping balance along the way.

A Story of Connection and Balance

With all of this in mind, Aang begins his journey is a system cut off from his headmates.

A central theme of the story is restoring that connection. This story really begins with Aang entering the avatar state in the Southern Air Temple. This is the first time he loses control and nearly hurts the people he cares about.

The avatar state here is something powerful, yes, but also something to be feared, making him a danger to his friends. He doesn't understand at the time what that state is exactly. It's something that leaves him confused and scared.

Through the series, he gradually learns more about the avatar state and his past lives. He begins to learn from avatar Roku. Then from Kyoshi. He learns about their lives, and has to reconcile their past mistakes. He also has to learn to accept himself as the avatar. Something which he struggled with throughout the series, and led to him fleeing his people.

At the end of season 2, Aang nearly dies in the avatar state. In a canon webgame called Escape from the Sprit World, while unconscious, Aang enters the spirit world and goes on a journey where he has to reconnect with the past avatars in order to prevent the avatar cycle from being broken, going back all the way to meet Avatar Yangchen, the airbender before him.

After meeting and learning from all these avatars, he's able to awaken with a new connection to them. (Albeit with no memory of this side quest.) Although he's told he won't be able to enter the Avatar State for the time being.

After this, on the Summer Solstice, he was able to meet with Roku once again to learn about Roku's own past, and his history with Fire Lord Sozin.

All of these events laid the groundwork for a final realization in the series finale. That the past avatars were always with him. He's able to meditate and reach out, and commune with each of them.

Finally, Aang has become a fully-realized avatar, tearing down barriers that kept him separate from the rest of his system!

And in the final battle, Aang is able to access the avatar state with full control over it for the first time.

Some would say that this was because of a conveniently-placed rock. Which, yes, that might have been the literal trigger that unblocked his chi. But narratively, I would argue that it was the connection with the past avatars that truly allowed him to access the avatar state again. That finally connecting with them all was how he truly earned this ability!

Conclusion

So there we have it! The story of Avatar: The Last Airbender is not just an incredible story, but an incredible story of plurality and connection between headmate.

This was really fun to write about, and I enjoyed talking about the plurality of the Avatar.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read!

I think with that, I've covered everythi...

Oh... right...

I guess I didn't cover everything about the plurality of the Avatar, did I?

Guess I need to plan for a Plurality of The Legend of Korra in the future! 😁

(And if you're interested in more of my ramblings about plural representations, you can check out my post about the Plurality of Batman. Or you can read about The Plurality of The Hybrid Chronicles: What's Left of Me, where I analyze a novel about a world where everyone is born with two souls.)

[32bitterra]

(March 1 - March 29, 2024)

Back once again for the renegade master, D4 damage with the ill behavior (camper fans come get ya food. more under the cut.)

AW YEAAAH

This is not a comic, just me getting easily distracted in art form. One of my friends thought Chloe's helmet was a TV screen.

Artist's block then began to beat my ass, but we will brute force our way through.

I wonder if Maloof likes Tom & Jerry.

This one's for the bird nerds and/or lovers of corny jokes out there.

Signs of spring.

ELKA DOOM FANS WHERE YA AT? MAKE SOME NOISE (I was feeling inspired.)

With Elka's help, the artist's block was vanquished.

This one is based on a dream I had months ago. They are listening to this because it kept me sane during the inordinate amount of time I spent on it.

Dart's head shape is like a modified version of Quentin's head shape (or maybe the other way around.) Visualizing it this way has made it easier to draw him.

A very important task as Bobby's henchman, you see.

(Note: since people have been unsure of what Bobby means when I show it - he wants Benny to bite into the apple first since he can't bite it with his bad teeth.)

Katherine.

I hope you took some time for Vernon on Storytelling Day (March 20)

There's been this commercial that plays "What A Feeling" and every time it comes on, it makes me think of Crystal without fail.

Is Chops wearing lipstick? The color is similar to Kitty's lipstick ... Did he steal it from her?

A Kitty-less Franke, how sad. I've expended all my energy to draw Kitty, so she has to be by herself.

J.T. has a very nice face. He has a very trustworthy smile. I trust him.

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

why do all the publicly available copies of the Arcanic Scriptures have Chapter 2 missing?

For context: I'm answering other people's lore questions! Drop me an ask about your lore and watch me get it comically wrong!

Alright, let's begin!

The Arcanic Scriptures are named after Bob Arcanic, a famous woodworker. He wrote the widely renowned manual, which were called scriptures for the reverence with which other woodworkers treated it, for free and distributed it widely to make woodworking a more easily accessible trade <3

Chapter 2 contained a special secret technique called woodbending, which entailed turning wood liquid so it could fit any form and didn't have to be sanded smooth.

Unfortunately, Bob's greatest competitor, Meanie MacFuckFace, didn't want such a precious secret to be spread, because it would lead to a decrease in his and other master woodworkers' profits. So he hired the world's greatest assassin and thief to kill Bob and destroy all copies of Chapter 2:

Fluffypaws. *Gasp*

Fluffypaws demanded all the fish in the Great Lake as compensation for her services, and Meanie agreed. She snuck into printing presses and homes in the dead of night by sitting at people's front porches and meowing piteously until they let her in for warmth, before clawing the pages of Chapter 2 to shreds and disappearing.

Before she could get to Bob, however, he caught wind of the contract. In what would come to be spoken in awed whispers for aeons to come, he performed a great act of woodworking. Using his wood-bending, he took all the trees surrounding the Great Lake and bent it to become a massive sieve. Then, as Fluffypaws descended on him, he used the sieve to fish up every single fish in the Great Lake and handed it to her.

Fluffypaws, delighted, agreed to forsake her contract and protect him instead. Though he could not afford to pay her to protect every copy of the Arcanist Scriptures, he kept her by his side to protect his life and his personal copies of chapter 2. And though Meanie MacFuckFace's new hired goons could destroy publically circulated copies of Chapter 2, none could get past the magnificent Fluffypaws, long may her white fur be luscious and easy may the blood wash off it.

Tagging the list for this work of art <3

Taglist: @coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch

@tragedycoded, @finickyfelix, @urnumber1star, @ratedn, @ramwritblr

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west, @differentnighttale

@evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms, @xenascribbles

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii, @trippingpossum, @real-fragments

@unrepentantcheeseaddict, @the-inkwell-variable, @paeliae-occasionally, @an-indecisive-nerd, @thecomfywriter

@seastarblue, @wyked-ao3

(Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)