#i shapeshift depending on the situation

[boimann]

umm are these you mister tumblr user poopyboiman

perhaps...

[genesisvirus]

hm, should i depict evil max being able to look how he looks when he switches or just have max and evil max look the same visually no matter who's really "fronting"

former would be funnier and kinda fit with the fuckery of the world, latter would be more accurate to actual system experience

[just-a-little-unionoid]

okay but like

and also

he shrinked during the battle T-T

for ur reference

adam could easily be 12+ few in some screens tbh but at MINIMUM he’s 10-11 feet tall.

he’s not even standing up straight and lucifer is still at chest level

even next to lute, who i’m estimating to be around charlie’s height based on her screens with vaggie.

and guess what

it’s literally biblically accurate for him to be a giant. a lot of people believe he was between 12-15 feet tall in the bible.

so. there you go.

adam is tall and fat.

& here’s some adam tummy to end the post for those of u who don’t accept that.

[vidavalor]

Crowley and Plosives

@kimberleyjean asked in my recent post on rings and apostrophes why it is that I think Crowley pops the consonants of words at times, as in "BooK. shoP", and if there is a technical term for what he is doing. There is.

Let's talk about Crowley's exaggerated plosive sounds--as well as his little "mmm" thing-- and what this all probably has to do with his hiss.

In order to talk about why it likely is that Crowley pops specific consonants when he speaks-- with it being more pronounced at certain times than at other times-- we first actually have to talk about his hiss.

Crowley's hiss is less of a separate sound and more of a slur of what's known as a sibilant sound in phonology-- it's the sound of the letter s or the letters sh. If you say the word "sash" aloud, you're using sibilant sounds twice over-- once at the start and once at the end of the word. While Crowley could probably just hiss like a snake when he's in human form, we never actually hear him do that. We hear a hissing sound manifest in his sibilant sound when he is speaking-- which is to say when he's being a human over a snake. The same is true of Lord Beezlebub, whose fly buzz sound affects their speech. In their case, their sibilant sounds turn into the letter z to mimic a fly (as in, "It izzzzz written" on the tarmac in Tadfield in S1).

Sibilant sounds are part of a group of sounds known as fricatives, which are all softer in sound. They are grouped together based on how your mouth and throat move in forming the sounds and how much air is needed to move through them and in what way to say them. The letters k, p, t-- and sometimes d, b and g, depending on the word and the position of the letter in the word-- are "hard" sounds and are known as plosives. These are the sounds that Crowley tends to pop or to which he gives exaggerated emphasis in his speech. My theory as to why is basically that David Tennant decided that Crowley would feel the hiss is weak and react to it by popping his plosives to seem more intimidating, which really does go along with Crowley's psychology well.

Crowley's hiss is a feature of what of him is a snake and, as a result, will show up in the times that a snake would hiss. That means the slurred sibilant sounds show up primarily in situations in which he feels a sense of vulnerability. Snakes hiss when they're stressed or under duress and they hiss if you try to interact with them while they are digesting a big meal. In demon snake terms lol, it means Crowley is most likely to hiss in exactly the moment he does not want to (when he's anxious or afraid, which is usually when around other demons or angels). He probably cares a bit less about slurring sibilant sounds around Aziraphale after a big meal--or a "big meal"-- and Aziraphale actually probably likes it a bit as it's his life goal to keep that snake blissssssed out but the hissing around other people thing?

Crowley hates it. He haaaaaaates it. There is evidence of Crowley hating the slurred sibilants in a few scenes.

One is that when he shapeshifts into a monstrous snake to scare the guy at Tadfield Manor in S1, Crowley doesn't hiss at him-- he roars. Like a lion. (Lions are also on the arms and legs of his reason-for-therapy-alone throne chair in S1.) And this is his reaction when he makes the guy faint from fright:

He loves it. Ah, control...

Because Crowley is a lot of things, really-- he's a snake, yeah, but he's a big cat, he's a crow, he's a nightingale, he's a black swan, he's a horse... we could go on. To control the hiss when he wants to is to feel in control of himself.

We all know how much Crowley seeks as maximum control over how he's perceived by others as he's capable of generating. It's a normal response to all the trauma he's suffered. It's probably worth considering as well that Satan's attacks on Crowley render him incapable of controlling his own mind and body for the duration of the assault. He doesn't have the option to speak or, if he does, the words aren't his own. These are bodily autonomy violation issues and the result is that Crowley hates anything that makes him feel weak and the fact that he has in the hiss what amounts to a nervous tic that is a symptom of his anxiety disorder makes him feel out of control of himself.

Another example of him hating the hiss is when he intentionally slurs the sibilant s sound while mocking Heaven:

Crowley is not just talking about composers in this scene in general but using first-class composers as innuendo for sexual partners and mocking Aziraphale's potential choices if he gets stuck in Heaven for all of eternity. He does so by combining soft fricatives and his slurred sibilant hiss, showing how he equates the hiss with a sense of what he considers weak and unattractive.

The other scene that suggests this-- and shows how Crowley pops his plosives as a counter to the hiss-- is actually the end of the apology dance, when Crowley pops a t so hard, it's almost its own word: "You were righTTTTTT."

The apology dance scene and its hard T as the final note of the mock-submissive dance also makes it clear that, unsurprisingly, Aziraphale knows what the popped plosives are all about. Plosives are, well, explosive. They have harder, louder, more dramatic sounds. It seems like Crowley pops them both as a measure to counter his hiss and as a measure to try to control it. He's taught himself to respond verbally with intensive plosive popping instead of hissing, which is also why we don't actually hear him hiss all that often.

One of the only times is almost immediately after this:

Because saints and demons preserve us, it's Master Crowley, right? But then Satanic Nun!Nina interrupts them and Crowley starts slurring his sibilant sounds in sarcastic response to Aziraphale telling him that he didn't need to put the woman in a trance.

"Oh, oh, 'xcccussse me, ma'am, we're two supernatural entities looking for the notorioussss SSSSSon of SSSSSatan. Wonder if you might help us with our inquiries?'" How he controls the sentence, though, is really interesting. The extra-exaggerated sarcasm of the last sentence helps him regain control enough that the final 's' in 'inquiries' isn't hissed and he's back in control of it. He's also almost amping up the sibilant sounds he does slur sarcastically as well. Part of why it comes out here is that he allows himself to be less guarded with his speech in front of Aziraphale.

We've actually only heard him hiss his sibilant sounds about three times, if memory serves me correctly, and two of them are related to Heaven and Hell-- the two moments I mentioned above. They're examples of him trying to control-- and then sarcastically wield-- the hiss. (Particularly "celestial harmonies", which he did entirely intentionally.)

There's also one more positive instance of a sibilant slur though and that's this: "Yessssss, the 'Reign of Terror.'"

The long hiss of a "yesssss" in this scene is not one that bothers him because drawing out a sibilant sound during a sexy conversation with Aziraphale is a very different situation than one about or involving Heaven or Hell.

If you look back on the series, there are probably no more popped plosives than in Crowley trying to ascertain just wtf Gabriel is doing in the bookshop wearing nothing but their tartan bedsheet.

"WHaT. Arrre. You. DO. ING. In. THis. BooK. ShhhOP?" 😂

Crowley was literally terrified (and also losing it internally because he just jumped and basically screamed at the sight of Gabriel) and there's a very brief "shhhh" in "bookshop" that starts to slur and has him practically shouting the "OP" to finish the word without full-on hissing. It's a scene built around the plosives, really.

Gabriel probably understands Crowley's manner of speaking more than "Jim" did in this moment as Gabriel has his own affected way of speaking. His defensive speech has the same need for a sense of maintaining an appearance of control and dominance but is usually less about emphasizing plosives and more about conveying a sense of power through a perceived sense of "manliness" in a smug, corporate sort of way. The way he says "but as The Almighty likes to say: 'Climb Every Mountain'" in that 'CEO saying the bullshit company slogan to a junior employee at the company retreat' sort of way.

Gabriel usually uses intimidation through lower, more frighteningly measured tones that carry the sense that if you pissed him off, he would explode and it would not be pretty for you. It's what makes the moment when he does actually a bit shocking and that's when you hear the force come out in his speech a bit.

He pops plosives in the curse and owns the 'fucking' in that sentence as a result. That is top shelf use of a curse word, in that it's selective enough and pronounced in such a way as to give it real power. You know he's going to lose this round because he can't win it but you're still kind of afraid of him-- maybe for the first time.

But Jim? Jim has none of this.

Jim is a guileless lovebug who doesn't understand why Crowley would feel the need to speak-shout at him and pause dramatically so his "I. AM. DUSTING." response is priceless. Jim over-emphasizes all of the sounds because he doesn't know why Crowley only emphasizes the plosives and he pauses dramatically between the words more out of confused repetition of Crowley's speech pattern to try to relate to Crowley than out of understanding that it was meant to intimidate him. He uses the same sense of theatre that Crowley uses without any context as to why Crowley feels like he has to and, as a result, it guts Crowley's whole attempt to intimidate him to compensate for his own feelings of vulnerability.

Crowley and Aziraphale both are fascinated by words and the evolution of language and they speak every language in the world. This means that they both have the ability, in theory, to correctly speak in any accent in the world, which is necessary to be able to pronounce the words in every language. Between that and his self-conscious, trauma-adjacent, plosive/fricative issues, as well as just being interested in how things like pronunciation informs the evolution of language, Crowley is more aware than most of how he sounds when he speaks.

But there's also that his unique way of speaking-- when combined with his low, rumbly voice-- can be very sexy and he's aware of it, namely because it's clear that Aziraphale thinks his sounds-- all his sounds, along the full spectrum of them-- are hot. As a result, we also have scenes in the series wherein Crowley will sometimes heavily emphasize plosives-- and fricatives-- around Aziraphale just for fun because to do so has become a part of how he speaks and because the angel likes it. An example: the "lotsss of GooD DeeDsssss" bit of this:

That Aziraphale likes the full range of Crowley sounds is symbolic of the fact that Aziraphale likes the full range of Crowley, full stop. As a result, Crowley plays around with how he enunciates words, often drawing out parts of them in ways he knows Aziraphale will enjoy. His "oo" and "ou" sounds are often elongated into an "oooh"; he softens fricatives to a breath at times when speaking more gently. At other times, he amps up his RP accent and emphasizes certain words in a sentence with pauses and heavier enunciation ("canopy", "astonish") to maximize their appeal and to draw Aziraphale's attention to them, usually also for wordplay-related reasons ("did you smite them with your wrath?" in Lockdown, for example.)

Then, there is that part of their language thing also appears to be an interest in onomatopoeia, which are words that have derived in language not from a connection to other, previously-existing words but from the sounds of Earth. Crowley, in particular, loves onomatopoeia, and likes to weave words that are that into his conversation-- "frou frou", "whoop", etc.. The word "hiss" is onomatopoeia. Unlike other etymology posts I have written or will write, there is no "derived from the Old French x" or "from the Latin x" or the like for the history of "hiss"-- it's just literally that people heard a snake hissing and said that sounds like "hssss" and so we're going to call it a "hiss."

While Crowley has issues with his anxious snake hiss, though, he actively likes to make the pleasurable sound the humans (and angels and demons) can make-- the ultimate in onomatopoeia. The word that is actually more his anti-hiss than his popped plosives:

"Mmm."

"Mmm" is derived from nothing more than the human sound of contentment. It's an often almost involuntarily hum of pleasure-- the human sound of satiation. There is no other history to the word but that and there has not been since beings began to exist.

Crowley makes the sound unconsciously but he also makes it consciously at times when speaking with Aziraphale because he knows Aziraphale likes the sound of it. Case in point: the very obviously intentional "mmm" in the Edinburgh phone call (and the heavy, exaggerated plosives emphasis on what followed it):

"Mmm" is also something of an etymology joke as well because, at last count, I think I had at least twenty-five instances in a note file here about intentional wordplay between Crowley and Aziraphale that focuses on frequently confused words and phrases (to founder vs. to flounder; whoop vs. whoomp; wittering vs. withering; to get a wriggle on vs. to get a wiggle on, etc..) which I bring up mainly because, especially when written, "mmm" is frequently confused with "hmm", and the etymology of "hmm" is pretty funny from a Good Omens perspective.

While "mmm" is a sound of pleasure, "hmm" is a sound made of consideration, a kind of pause in a sentence to acknowledge something that was spoken and to either suggest you're giving it thought or to show hesitation over what was said-- or, possibly, both. While "mmm" is a contented sound derived from the human body, "hmm" is onomatopoeia because it is imitative of a different, very specific sound in nature...

...it comes from the droning sound of buzzing bees.

To Crowley and Aziraphale, "hmm"-- the sound of hesitation and reflective contemplation-- is a sound of the insects that are symbolically the angels and that's amusing to them since the humans frequently swap it out with their signature sound of pleasure while Crowley and Aziraphale do not find much about Heaven very arousing.

Crowley's new favorite hobby in S2 is making dirty jokes that are going over Muriel's head-- some of which, like his handcuff innuendo while getting Muriel to take him to (literal) Heaven, are a bit on the surface. Others, though, like the frequently confused words wordplay of using "mmm" in protest of Heaven instead of "hmm" in the "mmm, bees" moment after successfully getting one over on the angels-- are examples of just wordplay jokes that Aziraphale would have found funny that Crowley was amusing himself with in the moment.

Crowley is definitely not the only one of the two of them amping up those mmms though. The only bee who has his attention is playing right back...

...and the mmm thing is not exactly new, either...

...like for him to mmm his way through an entire barbecued ox five minutes after this...

Original post that prompted this response:

[recareels]

gmorning Clari!!! 💘 I’m not sure you’ve done it before, but I’d loooove to know what type of yanderes you’d classify your genshin faves as 😘

ANDYYYY i am so sorry i am responding a few days late to this and that’s because i accidentally wrote you a whole novel for an answer :) your ask sparked so many thoughts and i just BLAAAH spewed them all over the page (*ﾉωﾉ) ugh ahahaha ANYWAY oh gosh okay i have so much to say, let’s get into it!!! also apologies for how MASSIVE ajax’s is waaaah

characters: wriothesley, ajax [childe], kamisato ayato, thoma warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, yandere behaviour (gaslighting, obsessiveness, toxic relationships, delusional thinking, manipulation, over-protectiveness, etc) words: 2.1k

₊˚⊹ 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲

WRIOTHESLEY is the controlling, authoritarian type that feels like a really strict father, all under the guise of ‘protecting you’ and ‘keeping you safe’. he veers into delusional territory a little here because he genuinely believes what he’s telling you (and himself) and genuinely believes himself to be doing the right thing. he isn’t possessive, he just wants to make sure you’re going out with safe people. he isn’t obsessive, he just wants to know where you are at all times in case an emergency strikes and he has to come find you. he isn’t overbearing, he just cares and is proactive—don’t you want him to care? can’t you see he’s only this ‘protective’ because he loves you? 

he has thoroughly convinced himself that this behaviour has nothing to do with jealousy or a desire to keep you locked up, to keep you 100% certainly safe and his forever, and nothing to do with wanting to exert complete control over you, orchestrating your every decision—and he’s pretty good at continuously deluding himself into believing it. he’s so good, in fact, and his logic is so sound, that it has YOU wondering if you’re ‘just being crazy’, if you’re overthinking things or reading too much into them. wriothesley has had a lot taken away from him, after all, and he knows exactly how the mind of criminals tick—can you really blame him for being a bit paranoid? maybe you’re the one who’s overreacting and being unreasonable. maybe you’re even feeling a little guilty for being so ungrateful—shouldn’t you appreciate having someone who loves and cares for you this much to go to such extents? shouldn’t you want to relinquish all power to someone you love equally as much? shouldn’t you trust him to make only the best, most sound and appropriate decisions for you? you probably should. 

₊˚⊹ 𝐚𝐣𝐚𝐱

AJAX is kind of like, the typical yandere, and he encompasses several ‘types’, evolving throughout the course of your relationship and shapeshifting into different variants depending on the situation itself. and while the other three men seem normal until you’re in too deep with them, refraining from showing symptoms of yandere-ness until after you’ve been with them for an extended period of time and mean a lot to them, ajax is weird from the very beginning. 

almost immediately you can sense that there’s something slightly off about him, but you can’t put your finger on what it is. it’s so subtle that it doesn’t strike you as particularly dangerous, leading you to merely write it off as one of his quirks and nothing more. 

he’s overbearing right from the start, of course; not necessarily enough to be concerning just yet, but enough for it to be abnormal—unusual—and noticeable (which reminds me of your lil ajax piece!!!). from the instant he sees you, he is irreversibly obsessed with you. you permeate his every waking thought, and eventually begin to leak into his dreams, too, and suddenly he can barely breathe without knowing where you are and what you’re doing, his concentration consumed by you. 

he begins stalking you—‘overseeing’, he had called it—making detailed notes of your favourite locations and your most frequented friends. he’s constantly got an eye on you one way or another, even if he has to employ other people to do it for him, discreetly reporting their findings every few hours. he tells them you’re in danger—which, you are, technically—and that you must be observed at all times from afar, silently and stealthily. 

ajax is patient and he can play the waiting game, carefully devising and then revising his strategy based on your moves. he loves playing predator and prey, gets a thrill from how the hunt unfolds—much like a battle, it’s a story, a rich tapestry you and he are constantly and concurrently creating, together. and that he thinks is so beautiful.

in textbook yandere fashion, once he’s gathered a sufficient amount of intel, he begins ‘showing up’ randomly at your usual spots, ‘bumping into you’ fortuitously. charming and sweet, the only thing that’s initially unsettling is just how well the two of you get along. ajax is sure not to mimic you too much—he doesn’t want to be a mirror, after all, and being too similar is far from a good thing (especially when it matches so well it simply can’t be coincidental).

well—that, and the sharp glint in his eye that flares with something dangerous every time you giggle or gush, every time you fall further for him. and once he has you enchanted, ensnared, you’re trapped for life, tangled up in him so tightly that he might as well have fused to your flesh. 

ajax likes to tell you it isn’t about power and control, but he knows that it is. he’s smart, and he’s self aware, and he doesn’t really care if this is ‘wrong’—he sees it as necessary and he genuinely believes he knows better than you do. he has to take care of you, or else who will? you’re clearly not capable of satisfactorily doing it on your own, so he must (god, how would you manage without him?). even if you oppose him or fight back against him, he’s purely convinced you’re bull-headed and stubborn, snorting at your wanting to be independent when he truly knows you’re too stupid take care of yourself ‘properly’ all on your own.

violence is a mainstay of your relationship, but not towards you; never towards you—merely towards everyone around you. his jealousy knows no bounds, but you will rarely see it outright. instead, ajax prefers to hone his emotions, to fashion them into a weapon or use them as fuel to thoroughly tear apart anyone who looks your way in a manner he doesn’t like. it’s his job as your lover and keeper, isn’t it? 

₊˚⊹ 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐭𝐨

AYATO knows what he is, and he doesn’t care. why should he, when he’s sure what he’s doing is ultimately correct and he’s used to having everything that he wants, and everything going his way, even if he has to force/manipulate it to? he’s so skilled at that in particular—manipulating situations and events to procure favourable outcomes for himself. in ayato’s mind, you should be grateful that he affords you so many freedoms—he could lock you away in the basement or a padded room, chain you to a bed with no entertainment or stimulation save for the books he has so conscientiously selected for you, and no other human contact aside from himself. but he trusts you, and he doesn’t want to go to those measures (though rest assured, he has promised you he will not hesitate to reach such heights if he deems it absolutely necessary, no matter how much he doesn’t want to; you staying his comes before his personal preferences and pleasures). as such, he allows you to roam the estate grounds under the watchful eye of his closest confidants and most capable guards (usually thoma, unless he is otherwise occupied and busy); he allows you access to letter writing materials (though they must go through two rounds of supervision and revisions before they are approved; once by thoma, and once by ayato himself); he allows you to go out in public as long as you are with him, etc. 

despite these apparent freedoms he affords you, he still picks your outfits out for you each day, and he devises a comprehensive meal plan for you each week, and creates schedules and rules he expects you to follow, thoroughly and meticulously to the letter. it is these subtle forms of ownership that he enjoys the most. he doesn’t feel the need to shout from the mountaintops, loudly and aggressively, that you are his, because the fact is so obvious, so evident, the second anyone merely glances at you. you walk like him, you talk like him, you sit, stand, and bow like him, just like he trained you to. 

ayato is also the type of yandere to punish you. he is molding your pretty little mind into exactly what he wants it to be, and that means that undesirable behaviours must be immediately and severely corrected through appropriate punishments—you must learn, or be taught what is right and what is wrong in ayato terms + definitions, so you will refrain from repeating such behaviour in the future. he is truly crafting you into the most perfect, precious, obedient little doll—and having a blast while doing so. it’s his little pet passion project, in a way; something he looks forward to working on when he has a moment of spare time. 

ayato was sly and clever with the way he initially enticed you, entrapped you, but underneath his cool, precisely chiseled exterior, ayato is selfish, manipulative, and extremely controlling. all decisions are ultimately made by and go through him. he will skillfully and carefully cut you off from all lifelines and communication, rendering you wholly dependent on him, and then will meticulously chip away at your mind until he sculpts it into exactly what he desires—someone who is as obsessed with him as he is with them. he slowly, stealthily, and steadily induces a severe, irreversible case of stockholm syndrome. the damage he does to your mind is permanent—and that’s exactly his goal. you now live for him. your days are marked by his appearances, his comings and goings, and the only thing you have to look forward to is seeing + spending time with him. you live to please him, live to be with him, and become absorbed by him, so you are merely an extension of him and no longer an individual yourself. everything revolves around ayato—he is your entire universe. 

₊˚⊹ 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚

THOMA is the most dangerous type of yandere, because thoma is genuine. thoma’s feelings are 100% authentic—and he earnestly intends to bring you no harm whatsoever—they’re just way too intense. he loves you so much that it veers into insanity, and the passion he feels towards you (and towards keeping you safe + claiming you as his) is so fierce that it physically hurts him to experience, chest blistering with scorching adoration and razored affection, something so dense and so all-consuming that thoma wants to claw through his own flesh and pry his ribcage apart spoke by spoke just so he can experience a shred of relief. 

thoma is, for the most part, an honest guy—starkly, brashly honest, so honest it shatters his words and gnaws at his voice, leaving it rough and raw, splintered to shards; but you can always trust he says exactly what he means. he severely lacks self awareness, not even realizing that his behaviour is inappropriate and extreme (he just cares about you SO much! it blinds his rationale and erodes his logic, incapacitating his ability to understand that he’s so suffocating it borders on terrifying). 

but what makes thoma so incredibly perilous is his sincerity. he truly just wants to keep you safe, eyes brimming with tears and voice hitching on barely contained emotion as he thoroughly explains to you his logic for stashing tracking devices in your bags or his reasoning for shattering the kneecaps of the man who made you uncomfortable at work, sentiment thick in his throat, words straining with the weight of his honesty, with the desperation for you to understand, to see it his way. he swears to the high heavens that he’d never hurt a single hair on your pretty, precious little head, and promises that he doesn’t want to scare you, but firmly asserts that he will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. 

and he means it. thoma is, in the most essential sense, your guard dog. he’s so sweet towards you, even submissive at times, always subservient to your every wish and whim, your every demand and desire, but he’ll fucking rip anyone within a meter of you to pieces with his teeth and bare hands alone if he feels as though you are being threatened in any way—and his standards and definition of ‘threatened’ are extreme and absurd, of course, causing him to react in a way that is severely disproportionate to the situation.

it borders on too much all the time—he is too obsessive, too protective, too clingy, but he’s also so sweet, so gentle, so incredibly bonafide that you can’t help but not be upset with him. he only does what he does because you’re his entire world, right? what’s so harmful about that? 

[puppetmaster13u]

Deep breath. Okay I love this. I absolutely love this. Also absolutely adore the idea of the entirety of Gotham being utterly horrified of a Pup having No Scent, because they should have something, even their own type of scent.

And I bet Danny's scent? Definitely sickly. His heartbeat is slower than should be, his veins stand out just a bit too much in pale skin and this general scent of death clinging to him.

But no Pack? Even the street kids keep watch over each other (helped further when Red Hood burst onto the scene & double checked on every street pack and made sure they had supplies and food and such) so for no scent?

That's like if someone has never touched someone, never experienced any type of physical contact like, ever. And that, as a concept is horrific already. But for a child?

All of Gotham is with their dear Brucie (and the terrifying Batman) on this, they need to find this scrawny sickly pup yesterday. Especially before a more violent rogue does.

dc x dp prompt

So I just got into the dc x dp fandom very head strong and I’ve been reading dc x dp fics left and right, some of the fics containing a/b/o dynamics and I just had a thought what if Danny one day took a trip to the DC universe and this universe had the a/b/o dynamics

Danny: I am a traumatized teenager that is alone and is totally normal

Adopting orphans left and right Bruce Wayne: don’t worry pup I’ll take care of you, you’re obviously neglected due to you’re having no parental scent

Danny: STRANGER DANGER, There’s a child sniffing pervert on the loose protect your childern(runs away)

Bruce Wayne: ???

Bruce Wayne: was it something I said.

[destinysbounty]

Ever since Crystalized came out, there's been this theory circulating that the reason the Overlord somehow managed to manifest crystal power seemingly out of nowhere and with no explanation (at least, none that I can find/remember), is because his fight with Zane affected his power in some way.

The main evidence for this is that:

Zane was the last person to fight the Overlord

Ice is technically a crystalline structure, depending on how it's formed, and Zane is the master of ice

When Harumi was first resurrected, she found the Overlord's spirit imbued into a purple crystal

As evidenced by past seasons, the Overlord's power seems to be influenced by his circumstances and environment in the wake of his last defeat. During Rebooted, a tech center was built over his resting place, and he ended up taking on the abilities and limitations of a computer virus. And in this case, the theory suggests that the Overlord's power was then influenced again by all the ice surrounding him as Zane destroyed both of their physical forms.

This does, to some extent, seem to fall in line with everything else we know about the Overlord. The Overlord is a being of shadow and darkness, and the shape of a shadow will always be influenced by the light around it. (And if we want to get into the theory that the Overlord was created as a result of the FSM trying to purge the oni blood from his veins, then you could even bring up the fact that the oni are shapeshifters sooo).

Now, I'll be the first to admit that this theory is ultimately pretty circumstantial, and there's nothing in canon to point to it being explicitly true. BUT, the cool thing about this theory is that it does also retroactively solve another big fandom mystery: that is, it explains how Zane survived his fight with the Overlord.

Let me explain.

When Zane came back to life after his fight with the Digital Overlord, while it was never outright explained how he did so, it was implied that he came back the same way the Overlord had: by spiritually manifesting within the systems at Borg Tower - specifically, the Digiverse. But that doesn't really answer the question, does it?

Like, the Overlord coming back as a spiritual manifestation makes sense. He's a regenerative being, an immortal abstraction of all the evil in the world. And Zane, as far as we know, is very much not that. So what could have happened to cause Zane, a nindroid, to end up being resurrected in the same way as the god of darkness? Why did he come back to life, instead of passing onto the afterlife? Even Lloyd, the special-est boy in all Ninjago, made a quick visit to the Departed Realm and only came back because the FSM said he could.

And true, it's certainly possible that Zane had a similar encounter with the FSM. Or that his power source is responsible for his resurrection, and just as we may never know how his power source works he may also never know how it brought him back to life. Those are all very possible solutions, and you're welcome to just accept those ideas and move one.

But if you're like me and you don't find those answers particularly satisfying, here's another possibility:

Just as Zane's power has influenced the Overlord, the Overlord's power has influenced Zane. In the explosion of Golden Power that caused both of them to be destroyed in unison, their souls became intertwined. So yes, Zane was meant to die. And judging by his account of the situation in Decoded, he did die. And maybe a peaceful afterlife was well within arm's reach, maybe he was just about to grab the FSM's hand...but then something pulled him back. His soul, chained to the Overlord's dark power, dragged him to the land of the living once more.

And if you really want to get into it, then you could even theorize that this connection ended up influencing Zane's power as well. During the Ice Chapter he was capable of turning people into ice samurai zombie-things kept under his control, as well as creating ice constructs like Boreal. These are not abilities that have been established in the ice power-set, nor are they logical powers for an ice elemental to have. Now correct me if I'm wrong, but the Forbidden Scroll doesn't give you new powers, it just enhances and turbo-boosts what you already have. Which is why it did nothing when Kai held it, as his power had been stolen from him at the time.

(Now before you ask why Pixal could use the Scroll despite seeminlgy not having any powers, there are very subtle implications that she had developed a very, very minor sixth sense due to her inheriting some of Zane's power. If anyone wants me to explain that in greater detail, I'd be more than happy to.)

And yes, Aspheera is also capable of creating elemental zombie/mummy things and other such constructs, but she did all that before she found the Scroll. This is a power-set she had by virtue of her being a powerful sorcerer, not something granted by wielding the Scroll.

And yet somehow, the Scroll did seem to give Zane these powers. Powers that so far have only been exhibited by two people in the series: Aspheera, and the Overlord. So if we submit to the theory that Zane and the Overlord's fight have caused their powers to mix a little, and the Scroll magnifies your power....well, it suddenly becomes very possible that the Scroll amplified some of the dark energy he inherited from the Overlord and awakened some of the Ice Emperor's more unique abilities.

And if that's true, then that really just kinda makes the whole Ice Emperor sting that much more. All of the good things Zane has done, all of his biggest sacrifices, all led to this moment. To him becoming the Ice Emperor.

I dunno. It's just something to think about.

[circeyoru]

The Cat On His Shoulders = Requested

[Alastor x Demonic Cat!Reader]

The Request

There were rumours that The Radio Demon fancies cat above all other creatures, even his own kind, that being deers, because of the black cat with red eyes that would always be around him no matter the situation. Be it a stroll through town, lunch at Cannibal Town, an Overlord meeting, a murder spree, and even to the tailor. There was always that black cat around him

Some demons thought it was Alastor’s soft spot, a weakness to exploit. The fools. You made your appearance and put those demons in their place. Turns out it was a demonic cat, one of the hellborns of Hell with the ability to shapeshift from animal to humanoid form. Your ability was even more unique, weak on your own but once paired with a sinner, you gain power and in turn boost your paired sinner’s abilities as well

Your meeting was funny to say the least. Alastor found your wounded cat form fighting for life and took you back with him to nurse you back to health, thinking you would make a good pet to pass the time. His mother and him have had a fondness for cats before and now that Alastor had the time, why not take care of one?

The moment the two of you stared at each other when you were in your humanoid form was mere silence. You immediately tried to flee since you were practically stealing from an Overlord, but Alastor was faster and got a hold of you with his shadows

“I’m sorry for hiding my identity from you, Sir Radio Demon.” You bowed your head in apology, your cat ears pinned to your head while your tail drooped lifeless. You had been acting as a cat would to avoid suspicion on you. You actually liked that Alastor was taking care of you and though treating you like a pet, he was kind. Kinder than other sinners that would take advantage of you

Alastor was quick to brush you off, nearly kicking you out the door if you were to be caught earlier on. But the two of you had spent time together for quite some time that affection was built up. You offered your ‘pairing’ ability to him. Explaining that while it was similar to a contract, it was exactly ownership of another, though others of your kind were treated as such

“My dear, how do you know I won’t treat you the same? Treat you like a slave and have you locked in a cage just to do your role as a power-up item?” Alastor’s aura darkened to seem threatening to you

“Because you were kind to me. I earn it for lying to you for so long…” Your answer was what led him to agree with your proposal, that and the fact that you weren’t lying about your ability. Just with you around, without the pairing, you boosted his powers as he did his battles while you watched from the sidelines. He noticed and kept you around most of the time. With a pairing, he’d be even more of a threat

In the beginning, you were treated as you were, albeit with the difference of your humanoid self roaming around his home. You knew his ‘thing’ with touches, so you’d avoid any direct contact with him. He was more comfortable with your cat form, but soon grew to like your humanoid form as well

Alastor loves rubbing your ears and patting your head. In turn, he actually lets you play with his ears and hair, only in private! To protect you better and make sure no one can just snatch you away, you’re in cat form and always on Alastor’s shoulders or in his arms. He loves your involuntary purring as well when you unconsciously nuzzle closer to him

You’re this close to him in public because if you die, your paired sinner would have their powers and abilities cut down to a mere 30%. While you can boost their powers at least 2 times depending on your closest and energy, you can cause just as much harm. The pairing thing is a double-edged sword

A skill the two of you found out about you was your ability to permit travels to other rings, only to your paired sinner. You once opened a portal to return to your home ring, Sloth, for a moment but then Alastor accidentally tripped and sent the two of you through the portal and both of you ended up in Sloth

It was a pleasant surprise, but Alastor couldn’t exactly do much else risk attaching too much attention to your abilities. While it was known that some abilities and powers manifest after pairing for your kind, never had you heard of this one. No wonder your friends were this wanted

You actually were there when Alastor and Husk made their bets. A mistake was Husk including you in the deal as well. With Alastor’s signal, you activated your ability to boost the odds in Alastor’s favour, Alastor needed luck and skill, you’ll give all that he needs

While you didn’t hold a grudge against Husk for including you in the deal, Alastor sure did. You watched from the sidelines how far Alastor bullied Husk into submission. You even told Alastor it was fine since you were used to it. His response was, “My darling, as long as you’re by my side, I will never let you be treated as a mere object to be used.”

You were already loyal before, but now you can say you fancy him. No surprise that Husk realized he actually had no chance against Alastor when you were near him. There were times when Husk tried to use you to threaten Alastor to break the deal, but you were no push-over, just because Alastor always protected you doesn’t mean you’re defenseless

There were times when Alastor was more protective and possessive of you, practically when you attracted other demons and sinners’ attention while being in humanoid form. He’d have his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him or have his arm linked with yours. At first you’d have trouble walking from the closeness. But you knew Alastor was just being careful

Don’t ask why, but you never saw it coming when Alastor asked for you to be his. Not the pairing or the soul contracts. But as in a romantic relationship. You nearly fainted but managed a soft ‘yes’

Nothing much changed from his nicknames for you would go from ‘dear’ to ‘dearest’, ‘sweetheart’ to ‘sweetie’, and the most fatal one was ‘My love’, that would left you shifting back to your cat form to hide from pure embarrassment and shyness

You humanoid form was more of a special sight for him now since you’d take that form when you were behind closed doors with him. Alastor loves hugging you from behind, “My love, you look ravishing as usual. Will you accompany to the bed?”

You’d giggle back, knowing that he’d have you lay your head on his lap while he reads whatever he fancies aloud, indirectly lulling you to sleep. “You’re clingier today.”

“Only for you.”

Note: Haha, it's one of the older asks. You can probably tell I write and post whatever I have inspiration on

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland

@crowleysthings

@donustellaron

[k0re-drawings]

showing new things about my omori au, Hikori! im gonna write some more info for context¿?

in this au Mari and Basil die in a incident caused by Sunny... which i will explain later on!! (will probably do a comic of it) im also following a little headcanon i have, so in this au there's shapeshifter cat that follows Hikori around headspace (Mewo aka stray cat) which shapeshifts depending on the situation... also Hikori can feel afraid ououou i do have more but i think i will continue with more doodles! i hope i have the rest of the gang's designs soon! for now have this little dump of doods and info... HAHA💦

[aestherians]

Change and Loss

Word count: 1362

Expected reading time: 10-11 minutes

"If your otherkinity still serves you, it will never really leave you," is what I used to say - more as a reassurance than a statement of fact. I mean, how could I know for a fact that it was true? I didn't have any experience with losing a kintype. I still don't think I do; not really. And I always saw the idea repeated in the community - one time otherkind, always otherkind.

But I don't believe that's true anymore. I'm still a bison for sure. I've never doubted that. I'm still Ɐwhrayɐ the gnoll and I'm still Ben the shapeshifter… but I'm beginning to accept that those sides of me have changed.

"One time otherkin, always otherkin. If your otherkinity still serves you, it will never really leave you"… but what if that's not true? What if you still benefit from your kintypes, and they disappear regardless? What do you do if you lose a part of yourself, or if a part of yourself becomes unrecognizable to you? How do you keep living when you've lost yourself?

Sometime in 2023 the distress of always having to hide my true self became too much to bear alone. But I'm not a brave person. I think the better solution would've been to just bite the bullet and start expressing myself, but hindsight is 20/20. I've survived 25 years by hiding everything that makes me 'weird', and the idea of leaving my one dependable survival strategy behind was (is) terrifying. I went to a free self-help seminar ("Take control of your life!") but all it taught me is that I need a dependable support network before I can take control of my life. I went to my doctor to try and get a referral for a therapist (it's cheaper than just finding your own therapist). Instead he sent me to a psychiatrist for my 'delusions'. The psychiatrist told me my experiences, worldview, and self-perception were unusual but not harmful - they could only help if my goal was to get rid of my schizotypal traits (traits that weren't even significant enough to warrant a diagnosis). If all I wanted was to learn how to conquer my fears and express my true self, they couldn't help. It took months of visits to get the diagnosis: Traumatized by peer abuse, too poor to afford my own therapy, and too anxious and ADHD to even find a therapist in the first place.

I can't even say I was left at square one. I had started out hopeful. Nearing the end of 2023, I just felt helpless.

At the same time, my studies were drawing to a close. I completed my bachelor's degree in animal science and all it took was a diagnosis of ADHD so I could legally buy amphetamines, a compound-diagnosis of autism so I wouldn't get kicked out when I inevitably misunderstood exam questions and failed final after final, and 5½ years - almost twice the expected time for a bachelor's degree in my country.

It should've been freeing but instead it left me directionless. Helpless and directionless - that's how I entered 2024!

In the past, in the strictly structured day-to-day of school, my kintypes have been a source of comfort. Especially my Ben fictotype, which probably fell into the category of coping mechanism. I awakened in a time of intense stress and retreated to that world whenever my present life got too much. When crowds got me overstimulated or I missed an important deadline or fought with my neighbors or drifted apart from old friends, I thought about all the times Ben!me had gone through similar or worse. I cut off a friend in my present life after finding out he'd abused his ex - but in my other life I'd cut off a friend who tried to murder me, and things still turned out fine. I lived through it. I could live through it again. Every situation had a parallel in my other life.

I still don't know why that method failed me, but eventually it did. It's not that it didn't work, it was more that I suddenly had to put an effort into making it work. As if I'd always been able to enter Narnia and now suddenly I had to personally petition Aslan to let me back in. It started in the fall of 2023 but it wasn't until spring 2024 that I fully realized. Coping had never been an effort before, and the worst part is, I don't even know why it suddenly was.

My fictotype was drifting away, even when it still served me! This wasn't supposed to happen! Had I been lied to?!

I think our community has a lot of survivorship bias. Whichever mailing lists and newsgroups get archived, and whatever snailmail gets published, that's what our history is based on. The people who made archivable geocities sites get to write our story - not the people on closed forums or in private chat groups. People who leave the community don't tend to leave behind pristine essays on their fully archived websites explaining why they left. It does happen, don't get me wrong, but it's rare. And when they do leave behind messages, it's usually some variant of "I still love the community that fostered my awakening, I'm just an adult with responsibilities now and I don't have time for this."

But what about the people who don't love the community? Who 'unawakened'? Who aren't passionate enough to leave behind a final message? Do we ever hear from the otherkind who 'fizzled out' and became human - or at least lost a kintype?

You can understand my panic, right? I considered turning my fictotype into a copinglink, but my ADHD is so debilitating I barely remember to brush my teeth - no way I was gonna remember to do daily reinforcement exercises. Especially frazzled 2024 me (still frazzled as of June but I'm hanging in there!).

I was forced to accept whatever my come.

I'm still Ben, on some level, but I won't say "I'm thankfully still Ben," 'cause is it really that bad to not be Ben? Even if that facet had served me well and could still serve me? $1,000,000 could serve me well, but uselessly pining after it doesn't serve me.

I didn't prepare myself for loss because I really wasn't sure I was gonna lose a part of me - and, in any case, grieving preemptively is a waste of energy if you ask me. Instead a turned to the Bison - not my own bison theriotype, but the archetype of the Bison. When one woowoo solution fails, why not try another?

The Bison has always been a good teacher to me - better than any self-help seminar or psychiatrist. The Bison takes everything in stride. The Bison survives until it can thrive. The Bison ruminates on the present, it doesn't ponder the future. The Bison doesn't grieve or fret unnecessarily. It exists in the now. I exist in the now.

Of course, the chance that anyone reading this works with the Bison spirit is slim, but I think its teachings can help everyone - regardless of spirituality.

When turning to other worlds doesn't aid you, accept it, and turn to the present world. Let your worries pass through you, you can't see clearly when you're pent up with worry. You can't prevent the seasons from turning, all you can do is turn with them. Accept your lack of control, instead of trying to grasp at the uncontrollable. Sometimes change is unexpected, and you may not like it, and it might not even open up new doors for you. Not all change is good. But you cannot prevent every unwanted change, and you have to keep living regardless.

My fictionkinity doesn't have the intensity of my first few years post-awakening, but it also doesn't have the casual reassuredness of decade-old kintypes. It comes and goes, and when it comes it's like a whisper. And one day it might become too quiet for me to notice. One day it might not return.

But I think I can live with that.

[cobaltperun]

Woe out the Storm (4) - Back in Black

Wednesday Addams x female Reader

Summary: It took some time, but eventually you came to realize only Wednesday Addams could look at the raging storm of chaos and destruction and make a home out of it. Only she could listen to the cacophony of the roaring thunder and hear a melody.

Story warnings: Wednesday Addams, violence, slow burn

Story Masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

Word count: 3.6k

-I got nine lives, cat's eyes, abusin' every one of them and running wild-

Thing failed to find out who was the one disguising as Rowan, he did his best, but the imposter slipped into the crowd and Thing lost sight of them. So, you were kind of back to square one since Rowan was officially gone and the shapeshifter didn’t need to pretend they were him anymore. You could argue your situation got even worse, as you didn’t know who you could trust. Well, that hardly bothered Wednesday, because, as she said, she trusted no one anyway.

Well, that one stung.

That night you came back to your room to find Enid kneeling on the floor with her fists balled up and hitting the bed, sobbing hysterically. “Enid?! What happened?!” you ran up to her, You’ve never seen her this upset unless it had something to do with her mother. Even that was back when you met her! After the first Parents weekend she had!

“My life is over, Y/N!” she wailed as she turned and more or less just rammed into you with how hard she threw herself into your arms.

You gasped, the air knocked out of you, but you managed to rub circles into her back, hoping to soothe her at least a bit as her tears stained your shirt. You weren’t entirely comfortable with people crying on you, but you figured it would be fine. “We’ll figure things out, okay?”

It was terrifying how fast she flipped the switch and looked at you, hopeful and happy all of a sudden. Enid flipping between moods like that usually meant trouble for you. It made you dread her next words. “You’ll take Yoko’s place?! Thank you, Y/N!” she threw her arms around your neck and hugged you tightly. “You’re the best!”

You froze completely. Yoko’s place? The Poe Cup? The canoe race? The lake?! “No! Nope! No way! None of that!” you abruptly pushed Enid away and took several steps back. You were met with Enid’s eyes, all big, expressive and filled with tears, complete with a pout on her face. “None of those puppy eyes either! They won’t work on me on this!” you cried out pointed a finger at her, firmly maintain your position on this as your heart hammered against your chest at the mere thought of being close to that much water.

She bowed down her head and clasped her hands together. “Please! Y/N, my whole life depends on this!”

You blinked several times, unable to believe what you were hearing. “And my life depends on not doing it!” you exclaimed incredulously.

“Please?” she tried with extra puppy eyes, batting her eyelashes and damn near making crocodile tears fall from her eyes.

“Enid there’s water involved! Sorry I don’t feel like drowning!” you were not budging on this, no way. Not worth dying for. You were terrified of huge bodies of water, well, any water scared you, but anything even ten times as small as the lake was the stuff of nightmares!

Enid looked up, genuine tears once again filling her eyes. “You won’t drown!” Enid at least had the dignity to pause for a second before saying that. “No one drowned in the Poe Cup!”

“I will! I can’t swim!” you exclaimed just as the window opened and Wednesday came in. How did she even climb up to the window in the first place?

“Wednesday, help me convince her!” Enid searched for back up in the last person you figured she would. “She needs to take Yoko’s place!”

You covered your eyes with your left hand and groaned. Enid should have known better.

“Why?” Wednesday asked. She was actually humoring Enid’s request? Well, that was unexpected.

“Yoko had a garlic bread incident at the dinner, she had a major allergic reaction which means she’s out of the Poe Cup! And I don’t have a co-pilot because Y/N won’t take her place!” Enid declared accusingly pointing a finger at you.

“Of course I won’t! I can’t swim!” you repeated as you threw your hands down in frustration. This was pointless, you were not going to participate, and thus you were already turning around and making your way to your part of the room. You weren’t about to argue about this.

“You can’t swim?” Wednesday asked clearly puzzled by the lack of such a basic skill.

You turned back to look at her and just shrugged. “I feel excruciating pain and light up like a Christmas tree when too much rain falls on me. The hell do you think happens if I fall into a lake?” you nodded, seeing Wednesday piece it together. “Exactly. Look, if the only way I’m getting somewhere is by a boat, I’m not getting there, I don’t care if someone is about to kill everyone I care about, if I have to risk falling into any body of water they are on their own! It’s their fault for getting caught in the first place!” were you being way too dramatic? Absolutely. Were you serious? One hundred percent. Nothing could make you approach any bigger body of water. Especially not a school competition.

“Y/N!” Enid whined, desperately trying to fill up the co-pilot position on her team.

You turned to her and pointed a finger at her. “No, you hear me? It’s a simple two letter word. No!”

“Can’t you just zap to the shore if we start sinking?” was Enid actually trying to tell you a cup was the most important thing at the moment?

You felt your eye twitching you were going to get a headache at this rate, and all because Enid was being unreasonable about this. “I’m not even going to entertain that thought,” even if you weren’t scared of water there would be no containing the burst of lightning that would happen if you fell into the water. How couldn’t Enid see that your canoe sinking meant not only you drowning but likely her and everyone else in the water close to you?

“You and I are going to take her down tomorrow,” Wednesday suddenly said and while you were genuinely surprised you looked at the goth girl like she was your very own savior.

Besides, between you and Wednesday, all of you knew who was a better option for a no rules race against Bianca. Especially since Wednesday had a personal vendetta to settle.

“Wait, you’re joining the Black Cats?” Enid was just as surprised as you were. She got way to close into Wednesday’s personal space, prompting the girl to back away a step. “You’re willing to do that? For me?”

“I want to humiliate Bianca so badly that the bitter taste of defeat burns in her throat,” Wednesday said with a sense of finality you haven’t heard from her before.

“Somehow I’m not surprised,” you commented evenly, even if you were incredibly happy Enid would stop trying to get you to join the team.

“Yeah, but mostly you’re doing it because we’re friends, right?” Enid kind of got the wrong idea.

“Just let her have this,” you said to Wednesday and she glared at you. Well, at least it was just a regular glare and not a death glare.

Wednesday turned around, probably uncomfortable due to Enid’s infamous puppy eyes. “Tell me how she keeps winning,”

“It’s a real brain cramp. The past two years no other boat has made it across and back without sinking,” and Enid still wanted you in the boat. Despite knowing that. And knowing how you were with water.

“Sounds like sabotage,” Wednesday noticed, which granted, wasn’t a difficult conclusion to reach.

That got Enid thinking. “There are no rules in the Poe Cup, and she is a siren, which makes her master of the water.”

“Then we just need to beat her at her own game,” Wednesday decided.

Maybe you’d actually watch this time. In a tree, at least two hundred feet away from the lake. Away from all the water.

~X~

And you did watch, from the exact position you thought you would.

“Y/N! Come on! At least cheer from the stands!” Enid yelled up at you.

“You’re barking up the wrong tree Enid! This is as close as I’ll approach the lake!” you yelled back from your spot up in the tree. You had everything you needed, binoculars to watch the race, and a tiny version of the Black Cats’ flag stuck in the branch you were sitting on. As far as you were concerned this, roughly two hundred feet from the lake, was as close as you’d come.

You couldn’t exactly see it, but you were sure a Enid’s eye twitched at your behavior. “You’re being irrational!”

You were also safe from the water. “Exactly! Now let me be!” oh you understood full well just how irrational you were being. Understanding and acting in a way that would change that were, however, two entirely different things.

Enid groaned, threw her arms up in the air in frustration and stomped back to her team. You watched as the teams got into their boats and you felt nothing but dread at the mere thought of being in one of those. Water beneath you, water all around you and the boat very likely to be sunken the only thing keeping you alive. Well, you were sure Wednesday figured out a way to win, but if it was you you’d be a panicking mess that would barely be able to row.

You watched the race, flinching when an axe swung over Enid and Wednesday’s heads. Yup. Forget drowning, you’d be decapitated from how much you’d be panicking right there. You wouldn’t even have the mental capacity to duck.

That would be an embarrassing way to die.

Every time a boat sunk, regardless of who it belonged to, you looked away. Finally, after what felt like eternity, the only ones left were Enid and Wednesday’s team and Bianca’s team. You bit your lower lip as something seemed to push their boat away from Bianca’s. Enid would never forgive herself if she lost this close to victory and, somehow, you figured Wednesday wouldn’t be much different. Especially after what she said last night and the way Bianca defeated her in fencing in her first week here.

Somehow the pushing stopped, probably something Thing did because no one on the team moved and the Black Cats managed to catch up and make Bianca’s boat sink, thus, with being the only ones left, there was no doubt who won. “Hell yeah!” you cheered, pumping your fists up in the air so hard you nearly fell off the branch.

~X~

Somehow you couldn’t say you were surprised that almost the entire school cheered for Ophelia Hall’s victory. Well, from what you could see it was more for Bianca’s loss, but still, you doubted Enid, who was soaking up all the attention and smiling back at the students, was complaining.

Wednesday didn’t look so pleased. In fact, she looked like she was in an ever worse mood than she usually was. She looked uncomfortable actually, now that you took a closer look. Finally, it looked like she reached the breaking point and left the crowd.

You gave her a minute and then went after her. You could understand on some level that she felt uncomfortable given the situation. You didn’t expect to find her sitting on the ground, leaning back against the Edgar Allan Poe’s statue. She looked a bit distraught, and you realized just how uncomfortable she was with everyone looking and smiling at her. She needed to get away from the crowd and for a moment you considered leaving her alone, but she likely already noticed you, so there was no going back.

“Overwhelmed?” you approached her carefully, ready to leave at the smallest sign she didn’t want you there.

“Unsettled,” she corrected you and opened her eyes to look at you, but otherwise didn’t show any negative reactions to your presence. You still let your eyes turn red to make it clear it really was you.

You nodded at that, smiling just a bit at her and motioning to a spot half a dozen feet away from her. “Do you mind if I sit with you? I’ll leave if you do, you just need to say a word.”

Wednesday watched you for a few moments. “I don’t mind,” she eventually replied, so you sat there, as silent as she was. Maybe it was because she didn’t mind you were a raiju, or maybe there was just something about her, but you felt at peace around Wednesday. There was just something predictable about her. Well, maybe predictable wasn’t the right word, but there were patterns in her behavior, she was cold, but she was honest, when you interacted with Wednesday you knew exactly what not to expect and that was enough. Maybe it was the way everything about her contrasted everything about your powers. Loud to her quiet. Brief bursts of energy to her consistent and constant flow. Bright to her dark. Destruction to her creation.

Wednesday looked up and suddenly seemed to shift all of her attention to the statue. “Y/N,” she spoke your name and you just realized that this was the first time you heard her say your name. You actually liked how she said it.

“Hmm?” you tilted your head to the side, waiting for her to explain what she noticed.

“What are you doing down here?” Enid burst the bubble you two created as well as prevented Wednesday from telling you what she found.

“Hiding. People keep randomly smiling at me. It’s unsettling,” Wednesday explained as she got up and you took that as your cue to get up as well.

“It’s called having your moment! You took down Bianca Barclay, try to enjoy it,” Enid led the two of you back to the pentagon wrongly named Quad. “The girls wanna know if you wanna hang out later. Oh, come on, it won’t kill you.”

“I’ll think about it,” Wednesday replied after a brief thought.

“Great!” Enid went back to other girls from Ophelia Hall.

“So, what did you see?” you finally asked, bringing focus back to the moment before Enid showed up.

“I’ll tell you later,” Wednesday decided when she noticed Weems approaching the two of you.

~X~

That later didn’t quite come, at least not before you fell asleep, completely unaware of Wednesday's plans for that night. You were a light sleeper, you had to be, otherwise you could risk not noticing rain or storm until it was too late. So, when you heard the window opening your eyes snapped open and you carefully took the covers off. A brief look around the part of the room you could see made you notice Wednesday wasn’t in her bed. “Wednesday?” you called out, loud enough for her to hear if she was the one that came in, but not loud enough to wake Enid up.

The silence followed by footsteps heading toward Wednesday’s deck was all the answer you needed. With a sigh you pushed your body off the bed and changed into a red T-shirt and black trousers, there was no way Wednesday would take you seriously in pajamas, even if they weren’t nearly as colorful as Enid’s.

The first thing you noticed when you rounded the corner was the book she opened on her table. “Is that the book you were looking for?” you walked over to the table and, mostly instinctively placed a hand on the back of Wednesday’s chair as you leaned forward to look at it.

“Yes,” Wednesday replied, for now not reacting to your proximity. You weren’t touching her, so maybe this was fine. She flipped the pages until she reached a half ripped picture and set the half she took from Rowan next to it.

“Crackstone?” you couldn’t help but recognize the man on the picture.

“You know who this is?” Wednesday immediately turned to you and you took a step back, realizing now just how close the two of you were.

You went and leaned back against the wall next to her desk. “You don’t live in Jericho for four years and somehow avoid learning about him. Jericho’s founding father, from what I heard he despised outcasts. Nearly wiped them out four centuries ago,” you explained, but it didn’t make sense. How was a man that lived all that time ago related to Wednesday?

“How do I learn more about him?” Wednesday asked, for a moment you felt nervous at having all of her attention on you.

“Uh, The Pilgrim World might be a good start,” you figured. “Just find a way to get volunteer work over there and I guess you’re all set. I’ll trade with you if I get it and you don’t. Though, knowing Weems neither of us are getting it.”

“Why?” there was that small head tilt again.

“She’ll probably want to keep me close, so I don’t get into trouble again this year and I don’t think she’d put you in The Pilgrim World, in case you end up causing trouble,” you grinned a bit, but there was a good chance Enid would get it, so not all hopes were lost. “Now, how about you tell me why you didn’t bring me along?”

Wednesday looked down at the picture. “This doesn’t concern you,” she stated evenly.

You rolled your eyes. “Like hell it doesn’t. Someone killed Rowan, who tried to kill you, and you are my roommate, you might need a lightning beast as back up against oversized Gollum,” you replied, resisting the urge to cross your arms and take a more defensive stance.

“I don’t intend to rely on you,” okay, that stung, why did she have to be this stubbornly independent to the point of wanting to do everything by herself?

“Why not?” you still asked, wondering if you could have a proper conversation with Wednesday about the topic.

“Man can will nothing unless he has first understood that he must count on no one but himself; that he is alone, abandoned on earth in the midst of his infinite responsibilities, without help, with no other aim than the one he sets himself, with no other destiny than the one he forges for himself on this earth,” your eyes widened as she said that, as if reciting her own personal rules in life.

You grinned widely, recognizing the quote. “Yet he sounds almost entirely different when talking about love,” the stoic mask broke for a few moments as Wednesday, surprised at your words, actually blinked a few times, averting her gaze from you. “It's quite an undertaking to start loving somebody. You have to have energy, generosity, blindness. There is even a moment right at the start where you have to jump across an abyss: if you think about it you don't do it,” you fired back with a quote, one that she clearly recognized.

“Such sentiments fit my parents, not me,” Wednesday looked you in the eyes, fierce, a cold flame burning within them.

“No, I guess it doesn’t. Which one does then? Aside from the one you just quoted at me?” you knew you were pushing, but the hint of intrigue and wonder in her eyes made you keep doing it. Made you push until you pushed too far, regardless of where that might lead you.

“Hell is other people,” a simple, short quote, and you had to admit it told you a lot about Wednesday, probably more than she dared to realize.

“Ah, I see,” you nodded, smiling right at her. “I'm going to smile, and my smile will sink down into your pupils, and heaven knows what it will become,” once again she avoided your gaze. “We’re saying the same thing, just with different words. I think there’s a lot of beauty in that,” you didn’t dare phrase it as a question, you just glanced outside the window before looking at Thing. He seemed uncertain of what he was witnessing at the moment. Was it a side of Wednesday he didn’t get to see often? If so, you felt a sense of pride at that.

“Perhaps,” Wednesday agreed after some silence. “I prefer to stay away from that phrasing,” there was something different in her eyes at the moment. Was the fact you went and repeatedly quoted Sartre back at her that impactful?

“Of course. You are you, nothing else would fit,” you dared to take a step closer to her, leaning against the side of her table. “Say, Wednesday,” you motioned toward the picture with your head. “What kind of life will begin on the other side of this?” you asked her.

“Bold of you to assume this will qualify as despair,” she retorted, showing once again just how well she knew Sartre. ‘Life begins on the other side of despair,’ Sartre once said and that picture looked like despair to you. A desperate situation where the fate of the entire school, filled with werewolves, sirens, gorgons, vampires, a school that had you, a raiju, still rested on the back of one girl that wasn’t a part of any of those groups.

You looked her in the eyes, losing every sense of time, it could have been a minute, or an hour. You didn’t know how drowning felt, but somehow you decided you were drowning in her eyes. In those black, emotionless eyes… Somehow, during that night, you felt as if something shifted just slightly between the two of you.

And you weren’t sure either of you realized it.

A/N: So, between being sick at the moment and my free time significantly dropping soon enough I'll try to get chapter 5 in a few days and after that, the story will have to slow down a bit. I'll try to get a chapter out once a week, but there's no way I'll be able to repeat the Lost update pace. Thanks for reading, see you next time!

Story Masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

[snivyartjpeg]

space dandy is one of my favorite anime ever so here's a real self indulgent rain code au where the detectives are space bounty hunters and shinigami is yuma's horrible alien parasite

(lore + spoilers below)(it's a lot so warning for that lol)

so like space mercs and bounty hunters are a classic right? imagine there is a whole ranking system on these guys ran by the intergalactic united government, and there's one guy who's the best in the business: a professional bounty hunter who has no name. he simply responds to his ranking- number one.

he carries out his work anonymously, his face only known by very few elites. born and raised to kill, he's really got no other identity to him.

he's never been fit for close combat, so he excels in stealth and marksmanship, as well as using his little genius mind to macgyver his way out of most situations

well eventually number one gets a little too cocky and gets fatally wounded on a mission. as he's dying, he hears the voice of an alien parasite who goes by shinigami. she's close to death as well without a proper host, so she proposes a deal: she takes over his body, and he gets to live. desperate to survive, he accepts, but the shock of her takeover knocks him unconscious and gives him amnesia.

by the way, shinigami works a lot like venom- she gives him super powers but also she does get hungry. yuma ends up letting her devour (read: she takes over his body and makes him devour) any hunted targets they kill.

anyway, now wholly dependent on her as a guide and life support system, number one manages to escape the planet he nearly died on and reach a trade center to find help. however, once he gets there, he is immediately chased by other bounty hunters and police. while running, he catches sight of a wanted poster, featuring someone with a face that looks just like his...

he finds what he thinks is an old abandoned ship to hide in, but turns out this worn down hunk of metal is inhabited by a man named yakou furio and his band of misfit outlaws that are also hiding from the fuzz. they have a big panic upon meeting, but all calm down and ask their newest guest how he got here. after giving his long winded explanation, number one gets accepted into the crew, and they name him yuma, after fubuki endearingly mispronounced the term U.M.A. (Unidentified Monstrous Animal, the thing the crew initially mistook yuma for).

the nda are all different types of aliens too! yakou is of a carnivorous race from a planet that's always raining. desuhiko is from a shapeshifting race of aliens that often blend into other planet populations. fubuki is a 4th dimensional time being, encased in a robotic body so she can interact with the lower plane creatures. halara is basically a furry from a planet ruled by anthropomorphic mammals (they look like some sort of gray fox). and vivia is like danny phantom- a guy who only half died thanks to a wormhole warp accident, so he can travel between spiritual and physical planes and cause anomalies. they've all got their own crimes and past, but they're all good people. will i ever draw them? hopefully someday!

anyway, this kinda plays out like a humorous, episodic show in which the crew go on odd jobs and missions to scrape by, all while trying to not get hunted as bounty targets. eventually things would get intense when they get attacked by a huge ship that's manned by a masked man... and this masked man seems to have it out for yuma, specifically. who is he? why is he attacking? whatever will this band of misfits do?!

i guess we'll have to find out next episode...

(or you can send any asks about this au. i WILL infodump abt it)

[ariseur]

Hihi!!! 💞👐 my first time in the FF fandom and your stuff for sephiroth was the first thing that I saw, your writing and headcanons for him feel so accurate to his in-game self! If I may, I wanted to request maybe some hcs for a shapeshifter!reader x sephiroth 👉👈 im not really that well versed in the world and lore of ff, so I'm not really sure if a shapeshifter is even plausible in game :')

Maybe reader was an ex experiment of some sorts, made to be used as a weapon?

I just really want to annoy sephiroth as a cat or sumth (i think sephiroth deserves a Turkish angora to match with his gorgeous hair 🤲 despite being around puppies so often)

For a little angsty hcs maybe readers transformations can be painful at times or not even work out properly so they kind of end up looking messed up :') (or they just get something like a dog ear not changing back to a normal human ear after changing back into a human on a more silly note)

This also kind of opens up for more... naughty things, just change a limb into something, y'know. But I saw that you don't write NSFW in your rules so I'm perfectly okay with you leaving this part out! Feel free to ignore this request, I'm just having brain worms about sephiroth 💞💕 love love love your sephiroth stuff he is the best wife 🫶

A CHANGELING - SEPHIROTH

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ notes - helloooo anon!! i literally loved this request sm thank you so much for sending it in and those kind words 💕!! i’m not exactly sure if it’s possible for a shapeshifter to exist in ffvii, as far as i’m aware the main source of the planet ( mako ) only really helps with like super strength and SOLDIER abilities? but if you look further into the games and you see the.. things.. hojo keep in those test tubes, i think the “used-as-a-weapon” circumstances are pretty doable in this situation :) feel free to send any more ideas if you have any!!

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ warnings - intended lowercase, i talk about pre and post nibelheim seph, post nibelheim sephiroth being manipulative and psychologically abusive ( canon ), spoilers for crisis core and sephs origin story, at the end of the blurb he calls you a silly girl so fem!reader in mind although the rest is gn!reader, lmk if i missed anything!!

✧˖° SEPHIROTH with a shapeshifting reader— hmmm.. i think it depends on your attitude towards the whole situation.

✧˖° for example, if you’re more nonchalant about the situation then i suppose he would be, too. im sure he would be curious at first, but ultimately i dont think he’d care all that much. if you’re used in battle or are well known among shinra or some other organization and he ends up meeting you ( im starting off with pre nibelheim SEPHIROTH first lol ), then he’d definitely be fascinated by your capabilities and how far you can stretch your talents out.

✧˖° if we’re in crisis core era and its like.. before the events that transpired with genesis n all that— he’d wouldnt be as interested as one might think. he’d def be like, “ooh cool” but after the essential introduction then it’d must become normal to him. i think his reaction would also depend on how well you can control your abilities and how you use them to your advantage !! like— for example; if you can stretch one of your limbs or manipulate any part of your body, he’d wanna experiment with that and ask you some questions whenever you have time. if you can change your shape into an animal or another person though— he’ll definitely have a little more fun with it

✧˖° post nibelheim SEPHIROTH takes more advantage of your situation, especially if you can morph yourself or change into another being. if you can shapeshift into an animal or something small, he’ll have you scope stuff out for him or something like that. he will entirely and shamelessly abuse your power and will somehow make you think that you’re obligated to do this for him— especially if you knew him pre nibelheim and still stuck with him afterwards. you do want him to feel better, right? won’t you do this simple task for him? he promises that he’ll treat you well and will return back to normal if you just do this one thing for him :((

✧˖° i think his fixation on jenova and his own identity might even transfer over to you in some form. i feel like sephiroth believes things happen for a reason and so after his spiral, he often thinks that you were brought to him and that its a sign. he’ll use your ability and somehow connect it to his role in the lifestream and that it symbolizes versatility and you were brought to him with the purpose of your assistance to his goals n whatever blah blah blah post nibelheim SEPHIROTH is mean in his own way and i am sorry but i am not an apologist for this man’s actions !! i fully believe that he would manipulate you into becoming his little puppet to help accomplish his own ambitions.

✧˖° post nibelheim SEPH does care for you, and he’ll always tell you that— but i cant always say that he says it in good faith.

✧˖° but!! on a more positive note, i think ( pre nibelheim ) SEPHIROTH would be heavily amused with having someone who can alter their shape by his side. as anon mentioned in their request, i can totally see SEPHIROTH with a turkish angora or some sort of cat beside him!! i can just see you trotting over to him all of a sudden, hopping up on the back of his chair as you let your fur whoosh with every sauntered move you take. he furrows his brows, thinly arched and silver, before he realizes whose wet snout is pressed against the nape of his neck as he reaches a gloved hand up to run against your pristine ivory coat; earning a soft purr from you. UGHHHH i need this man so bad SEPHIROTH bae you know where home is

✧˖° if the process of shapeshifting is somewhat painful or it’s more abrasive on the way when you shift back, SEPHIROTH will always try his best to comfort you when it gets too difficult. he might be a little awkward, but the best thing he can offer is a reassuring hand on your lower back as he whispers in your ear that everything will be okay in the end. he’ll even try to make you laugh with his dry ass humor, it might not help because he’s so calm in this situation and you’re probably freaking out but he’s trying his best (╥_╥)

✧˖° something that i really like touching upon when i think about shapeshifters or people with the ability to alter their appearance is body and face dysmorphia!! i think it would be inevitable if you switched yourself up enough and would eventually develop some sort of insecurity within yourself and the way you look— perhaps thinking you looked some way when you didn’t or if everything just starts melding in your brain. i’m not sure if SEPHIROTH would know what to do in this situation but i’m sure he’d understand how you could feel this way, especially if you were treated as a weapon ( we’ll touch up on that next !!).

✧˖° i wrote a fic about SEPH feeling uncomfortable with himself due to the fact that it’s like— written in a setting where his wings are just sprouting, and i feel like that would happen at one point. if you wanna include that fic in this little timeline, then i feel like it’d give him all the more reason to come to your aid when you need it. i mean, if you helped him— isn’t it only fair that he does the same? he won’t tolerate any nitpicking at yourself or self deprecating comments, he won’t tolerate self loathing or anything of the sort; he is the there for you and whether you seek comfort in him is up to you, he reminds you.

✧˖° if you wanna include the ex-weapon part in this, i think SEPHIROTH’s heart would break— especially if it’s post nibelheim. pre cc SEPH is utterly baffled that you were treated that way, and is always cautious when addressing the topic or when talking about your feelings revolving around it.

✧˖° i think any decent human being would feel sympathetic when it’d come to a situation like that, but post nibelheim hits wayyy harder for him. after it comes to light that he was an experiment and only created to be the poster boy for shinra / the perfect SOLDIER, he feels for you even more. except, instead of like his previous self where he’d encourage you to work through it and let these feelings of sadness and emptiness pass along with letting go of your trauma, post nibelheim would have you use it and it only gives him more knowledge in order to manipulate you. he’d make it a case of using your resentment and all of these years of hardships to fuel your anger; to further develop these feelings of hatred towards humanity. it just gives him more to manipulate you with. but, you won’t have to worry about a thing when you’re with him, just help him take over and rightfully restore what’s his— what’s yours.

✧˖° now let’s end on a happier note, shall we? ^.^

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

with his mako eyes flickering over your sheen coat glimmering in the sun, SEPHIROTH watched as you cantered along the grass, soft flecks of dirt trapped under the light brown strands of your fur.

he softly chuckled to himself as he watched your small tongue loll out of your mouth as you panted, observing the heat of the sun getting to you ( or more so, your current body in the form of a dog ) as he sat in the shade, safe from its wrath. his eyes, slender and catlike, stayed fixated as he watched you roll around— your tiny body disappearing momentarily beneath the tall, tapered leaves sprouting from the ground.

sephiroth tilted his head up slightly, narrowing his eyes as he scanned along the knoll before he saw your head pop up from the green weeds, this time, coated with your real human hair and regular face. his lips quirked into a half smile while he watched you grin at him lazily, the sun draining you especially as you change your form. he reveled in the way your pink lips split open with your smile. he reveled in the way your eyes lit up when you saw him, even when you held those big, wet puppy eyes.

your hands slid from underneath you, shoulder with the part as you pushed yourself up from the dirt; ignoring the way it got stuck under your fingernails, reminding yourself that you’d have to clean them out later. putting your knee down, you pushed yourself forward and hustled towards him. letting out an airy laugh, you plopped yourself down on the raised hill where sephiroth sat. the tree above you provided shade that you instantly felt relief once you were under, the coolness of the obstruction healing your soon to be burnt skin.

“‘s hot out here, i swear. can nev’r get a break.” you muttered, placing both of your hands on your face as you leaned back into the foreign dirt behind you, uncaring of small bugs simply trying to traverse around you. sephiroth laughed, “i can see that.”

he turned his head to the side, scanning over your heated figure before he cocked his head in bemusement. letting out a small huff, you peeked one eye open out from underneath your elbow— even in the blistering rays of the sun, you could never get tired of sephiroth’s laugh; whether a wry chuckle or a cachinnation that was never intended to make it past his lips. you let out a small huff yourself, “what’s so funny?”

“one body part remains unchanged, dearest.” he lifted a leather clad hand up to his face, motioning towards his ear while his gaze softened; watching how your hands came up to flutter around the right side of your face only to find no ear. your brows crinkled as they met in the middle before you felt on the top of your head, the pads of your thumb and index finger fiddling with the folded ear protruding through your hair. lips forming into an ‘o’, you made an audible noise of surprise before you shut your eyes and let your head loll back again.

you applied pressure on the morphed body part, sephiroth watching in awe as you concentrated on fixing your error. your lips twitched upwards in a small smile before removing your hands and putting them at your sides, looking back at your beloved while he remained collected as ever.

a wider smile tugged at his lips— a rare sight indeed. he shook his head before mumbling a small, “silly girl.”

𐙚 taglist ; @snoopicle @ch3rryfiles

𐙚 requests are open — june nineteenth, 2024

[bucketsofmonsters]

The Shapeshifting Detective - Part 8

cw: parental death, grief, referenced murder, police brutality, slow burn, more tags will be added as the story continues

male shapeshifter x fem character

word count: 3k

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 (Final Part)

Kate had no idea how long she’d been in here or if the others had been taken into custody. She’d been waiting for hours, locked away in a room with no windows, no clock, no way of telling the time at all. 

Her wrists were sore. Her brain kept circling back to it over and over again. They were unbearably sore, both of them shackled to the table to prevent her from running off. They were irritating at first but after a while, she came to appreciate them, their unyielding weight helping to keep her present. 

She didn’t know what was happening or how long it had been or what would come of her but she knew her wrists were sore. 

Eventually, even they were not enough. She’d been able to stomach a lot in the last days, but sitting still and alone was not one of them. 

She had nothing to throw herself at, no justice to find. She was just here. Alone, in a room, waiting for the dust to settle. Waiting to see how she would come out of this. If she would come out of this. 

The creak of the door pulled her back to herself and her head jerked up to find whoever had come to break the infernal silence. 

When he entered the room she felt like she could breathe again. Her detective walked up to the table she was chained to and suddenly everything was going to be alright. 

“Harvey,” she said, a swell of relief filling her chest. 

When their eyes met she realized her mistake. “A bit familiar, don’t you think miss? Wonder where you picked up that habit?”

It wasn’t her detective at all. 

His dishevelment told a different story than the one she was used to. Gone was the man who just didn’t quite fit his clothes despite having shaped himself to belong in them, always sitting slightly askew with his wild hair and off-center tie. 

No, this man looked like he’d walked through hell, eyes bloodshot and his stubble growing unruly. 

She had no idea how much he knew about the situation, how much he’d been told about his mysterious doppelganger. The vitriol present on his face said he probably knew more than was good for her. 

He leaned over the table, looming over her, and Kate did her best to pull away with her hands chained, tethering her down. 

“I don’t know you,” she spat out, incapable of feigning demure answers despite knowing it was undeniably in her best interest. 

“Really? That’s odd, some people at the station say we’ve gotten quite close. Congratulated me on latching onto the killer so fast. Wasn’t that clever of me? How did I find you out so quickly, I wonder?”

“I didn’t kill anyone.”

“Then why did you confess to it.”

Of course he believed her mother. She certainly hadn’t done much to earn any trust with him. It stung anyway. “I didn’t. She’s lying.”

“Now now. Your mother is an upstanding woman, I don’t think she would lie to me. And you…” He grabbed her chin and tilted her head to the side, as if to inspect her. She reeled back, pulling herself from his grip, a movement he seemed to find amusing. “Well, I suppose what I think about you depends on how well we know each other. What do you say, Katherine, do we know each other or not?”

He spat her name at her like it was poison. It might as well have been. 

“You’ve questioned me a few times, that’s all.”

“Oh, just a few. I only remember us speaking once but perhaps I’m misremembering. Maybe I wrote it down somewhere. I did find some very interesting notes about you in my office. They were very complimentary, seemed like we’d spoken quite a lot. Can you remind me if that’s true?”

“It was a couple times. That’s all.”

“Consistent. Smart, you shouldn’t be changing your story.”

“You can’t do this,” she insisted. She knew he could, though. That was the problem, wasn’t it? He could do whatever he liked. Who would stop him?

“I promise you I can. You know what I find odd? The way you looked at me when I walked in here. You didn’t look at me like the prime suspect in a murder case who’d only spoken to me a few times. Who were those big, hopeful eyes for? Because I know one thing for damn sure, they weren’t meant for me.”

“You’re insane,” she hissed at him.

His hand snapped up faster than she could track and then her head was being slammed forward into the table in front of her, the world spinning as she pulled back. 

“I’m going to get the truth out of you one way or another,” he snarled. 

“I didn’t do anything,” she sobbed out.

“Maybe you didn’t. At this point, I don’t really give a shit. What was that thing? Are you one of them?”

“I don’t know anything,” she said through gritted teeth. There was no getting out of this, she could see that now. 

“Yes, you do. You’re on its side, the only thing I don’t know is if you’re a piece of shit turncoat human or one of those monsters.”

The door opened and a man you didn’t recognize walked in. Harvey snapped to look at him, snarling out an impatient, “What do you want?”

The newcomer was some other police officer, his hat not quite facing forwards properly and his jacket buttoned up just one button off. 

“Someone wants to see you,” the newcomer said.

“I’m a little fucking busy, actually.”

“I’m sure you are,” he said, and faster than either of them could react, he slammed Harvey forward, throwing everything he had into banging his head into the table. 

It knocked him out cold, his body sliding unceremoniously to the floor as Vincent rushed over to her side, a frantic look in his eyes. 

“Evelyn is in the other room,” he said, speaking as fast as he could get the words out. “They started poking around and we couldn’t make them leave. They were gonna find them either way.” He gestured down at the unconscious man below him. “I just untied them and told them no one would believe them, seemed like the best option at the time.”

She tried to move forward, into his space, the shackles stopping her unbecoming display of desperate affection before it could even really begin. 

He seemed unaffected by Kate coming to her senses about the action, wrapping an arm around her and holding her tight to his side. “Let’s get you out of here,” he muttered, and she could feel his chest moving as he spoke. “I don’t want to- Oh my god, are you bleeding?”

He reached for her instantly, his hand cradling her cheek as the other rose to wipe at a drop of blood she hadn’t even noticed, the viscous liquid spreading across her skin. 

He immediately reached for his pockets, muttering angrily under his breath. 

Upon finding nothing he began rooting around in Harvey’s pockets, pulling out both a handkerchief and a key ring victoriously. 

“I’m going to get you out of here,” he promised, pressing the handkerchief gently to her wound, cleaning it as best he could before beginning to try the first of many keys. “Just hold on a minute.”

“What are we going to tell them?” she asked as he tried key after key, looking warily out towards the rest of the station. 

“You’ll see. I just have to wait for…”

Before he could finish his sentence, all hell broke loose, the sounds of yelling and rushing about filtering through the door. 

“What is that?”

“Our cue.” He said, trying keys as quickly as he could, a slight shake to his hands as he did. Finally, one clicked into place and the cuffs snapped open. 

Kate stood, rubbing her wrists and Vincent gave her a nervous look. “You may want to turn around.”

The words echoed in her ears and before she could really register them, he was changing. The horrible snapping of his bones accompanied itself with the creation of new angles where they shouldn’t be. 

The cracking and shifting noises were drowned out by the noises of chaos that were slowly filling the building, but it did nothing to stop them from reaching her ears. 

She wondered why he had to shift like this. Surely there were more efficient ways to travel from one body to another. Human bodies weren’t that different, seemingly creating a new set of bones and tissues for every one seemed horribly inefficient. 

She thought, perhaps belatedly, that she should be scared. Or at the very least, horrified. And yet she couldn’t quite bring herself to be. 

It hadn’t even really occurred to her, to be honest. Perhaps some of it was due to her current, exhausted, sluggish state. She just hadn’t thought of it, hadn’t considered being afraid. 

Why would she be, asked a little voice in the back of her head. It was just Vincent. 

Instead, bubbling up, slower than they should have, were other feelings. Relief, gratitude, but nothing resembling the revulsion she was sure should be present. 

As he transformed, she was lost in thought completely, busier mulling over the situation than actually watching the seemingly possible transformation. 

He winced at her as soon as he had enough of a face to wince with. “Sorry, you shouldn’t have had to see that.”

Vincent looked more scared than she did, staring at her as if at any moment she might scream and run, never to be seen again. 

She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. It didn’t feel like one, like anything close to being either reassuring or a smile, but he seemed to understand the meaning, giving her a quiet, sweet smile back. 

And then he held out his hand, as if to escort her out of the room. She took it and he led her into the chaos. 

Evelyn seemed to be at the epicenter of it all, shouting and throwing things around the station. No one really seemed to know what to do with themselves, trying to calm her while simultaneously acting like if they got too close they might spontaneously combust. 

As she watched the chaos unfold, the comfortable weight at her side disappeared and suddenly she felt very exposed. 

She glanced around nervously and saw Daniel sitting in the corner, a distant look in his eyes. He seemed like he’d be less of a problem than Harvey had been. 

Evelyn drifted over to her and pulled Kate towards her. She went with little protest, leaning into the woman as she was guided to her side. She was the only other person left who didn’t want her locked up, now that Vincent had made himself scarce. There were worse people’s arms to be clinging to. 

As Evelyn argued and Kate stood, unlistening, at her side, she saw Vincent dart back into the interrogation room and she did her best to avoid looking at the door again, keeping as much attention away from there as much as possible. 

She heard the door creak once more but kept her eyes adamantly forward, tensing up even more at the noise. She imagined no one could tell, it was hard to look more tense than she’d already been. 

She heard Evelyn slam her hand down on the table beside her, hard, and guessed someone’s attention had drifted a little too far. 

Kate should be paying more attention, should be helping more with this plan she wasn’t privy to. She just couldn’t draw herself back into the present. It had been too much, she was too tired. 

And then, storming through the doors of the police station with a bang, was her mother. 

Now she was aware of everything, pulling away from her and further back toward Evelyn. 

An arm snaked around her waist and she was grateful for it, grateful for the reminder that at least someone here was on her side, even if it was more for Vincent’s sake than for hers. 

“Why is she free?” her mother asked, looking around frantically, looking more confused than angry, despite the way she’d entered. 

The policemen around her seemed just as confused as to why Kate was standing amongst them, looking around for someone with an explanation and finding no one. You hoped Vincent would be back soon. You had a feeling you’d be thrown right back into the interrogation room if he wasn’t. 

“She killed him,” Kate insisted quietly, sounding unconvincing even to herself. 

Her mother took a step forward and she couldn’t help but flinch. At that, her mother paused, shifting back once more and keeping her distance. 

“You can’t fool them. They know the truth, they believe me.” Her voice sounded strained and distant and Kate couldn’t help but wonder how much of that was just her mind going. Nothing seemed to quite make sense anymore. 

“They do,” she said, slumping further into Evelyn’s side. The woman took her weight without protest, giving her side a little squeeze that she couldn't make sense of. 

“Of course they do! I am a well-respected woman. And who are you? Unmarried, unsociable, why would they believe you?” The words were careful, intentional, but not how they normally were. There was no tact behind them, not really. 

As she yelled at Kate, restrained and unnoticing of the people watching, it occurred to her that this was not, in fact, her mother. Her mother would never make a scene like this and if she did, if she really snapped like she was supposedly doing right now, she would not keep her distance and try her best to avoid frightening Kate. 

Because that’s what she was doing, stepping away, keeping from shouting too loud, keeping the blame from Kate's shoulders as best she could. It was a show, one calculated to harm her as little as possible while revealing the truth to some closed-minded police officers. 

But Vincent was struggling, struggling to make it natural and believable, so she threw him a bone. 

“You can’t fool me,” Kate said loudly, having no problem making it believable. Maybe she should give Vincent some lessons when this was all over. “They’ll see it soon too. I know you killed him.”

“And I would’ve killed you too if I knew how much trouble you’d cause me,” she said with a scoff. 

And then her eyes widened, looking around at where she was, her breath catching in her chest before she turned tail and ran. 

Everyone was too shocked to stop her, quick orders to chase her down being shouted amidst the chaos. 

Most of the officers left, starting the search efforts. Those who remained didn’t seem to know what else to do with Kate, milling around her awkwardly. 

“What are you doing?” Evelyn snapped. “You heard the woman, she’s innocent, don’t you have better things to be doing than terrorizing this poor girl any further.”

They didn’t seem fully convinced but they seemed more frightened of Evelyn than they were wary of Kate. 

She wondered what it would take for them to fully be done with her, be entirely convinced of her innocence. She imagined there was very little at this point. She’d already messed up too badly, broken too many rules. That crime she was guilty of and so they were convinced that something must be wrong. 

She couldn’t bring herself to care any longer. There was no anger left in her. 

Evelyn began to pull her towards the door and she followed like a well-drilled pup. 

Harvey passed them as they attempted to flee and she knew instantly that it was her detective. She was so much better at seeing it now, at recognizing it, even as distant as she felt. 

He smiled at her and then turned towards the rest of the precinct. 

“And that concludes this case. My apologies for keeping this from you, but I felt the ruse was necessary to find the truth. The lovely Miss Katherine here was willing to help, once she heard my plan. Her intention, of course, was to clear her mother of any suspicion. When we cornered her, she told a different tale. I just needed time to settle the case. Fortunately, she seemed set on doing it for me,” he finished with a put-on laugh.

She heard Evelyn sigh beside her and mutter under her breath, just barely loud enough for Kate to hear, “He really is too much.”

Confused murmurs filled the precinct but Vincent did not seem like he wanted to stick around to clear anything up. 

That felt like it was best. She had no idea where the real Harvey had ended up in the chaos or how long they had until he returned. 

She let Vincent lead her off, Evelyn shifting Kate over to him, shouldering most of her weight as they walked. 

She stayed tucked carefully into his side. It felt safe there, secure in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“Why didn’t you do that before freeing me?” she asked, much later than she should have, but at least she still had the sense to ask at all. 

He looked away, a sheepish air taking over him. “I didn’t want to keep you locked in there any longer than I had to. The plan was just to incapacitate Harvey but… it wasn’t right.”

“You’re an idiot.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. I got the job done though.”

“Hmm.” And then, perfectly patient, holding out just long enough to not inconvenience them too badly, she collapsed. 

[sunderingstars]

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✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ GENDER ⌝

sampo analysis m.list

— what the stars reveal: interpretative analysis, theory, elation!sampo

— word count: under 1k

— overview: (as of 2.5) a companion piece to my sampo character story & brughel poisson analysis! an examination of the similarities between sampo’s relationship with gender and the relationship higher beings have with gender.

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Across the board, Aeons and higher beings in Honkai: Star Rail seem to have more complex relationships with gender than the average character. Beyond going by They/Them pronouns (further emphasized by THEY/THEM in recent updates), Aeons often have androgynous looks and even “multiplicity” of identity. It makes sense — beings who exist so far above mortal comprehension would obviously have a different understanding of gender (if subscribing to it at all) and be less likely to care about mortal binaries. As such, Their identities, much like every other part of Them, are multi-faceted and vast, only able to be attempted to be understood by mortal frameworks (which often don’t fully capture the identity anyways). 

Higher beings closely affiliated with Aeons also have nuanced experiences of gender, like Emanators. Emanators are sometimes referred to by the “it” pronoun set, as shown by Boothill at the beginning of 2.2’s Trailblaze Mission:

While looking through the Data Bank and Official Wiki, it also seems that Emanators can be referred to by any and all pronoun sets according to the situation — for example, the Wingperor of the Wingweavers (Abundance) is referred to by binary pronouns (he or she), the Harmonic Strings (Harmony) are referred to by they/them pronouns since they are multiple embodiments of Xipe, and the Noblesse Worm (Elation) is referred to by it/its pronouns. 

From this, we can surmise that Emanators — in a categorical sense — exist in a genderfluid state. Depending on the specific Emanator’s position and relationship with their Aeon, they can be referred to by any set of pronouns, perhaps even ones that haven’t been established in-game yet. 

It is important to note that in Boothill’s specific case, the “it” pronoun may be used as a way to dehumanize — rather than referring to the Emanator by it/its pronouns the Emanator themself chose to go by, Boothill almost seems to be projecting an “it” status onto them (i.e. assuming that because of their specific position as an Emanator, they are no longer “human” or relatable). This is an issue Emanators may run into writ large; despite existing in a multitude of different states, there is most likely dehumanization that comes from separate sources, the kind that reduces their identity to the “other” rather than understanding the nuanced existence they inhabit. 

It is also important to note that both Emanators and Aeons have a history of changing appearance. The aforementioned Harmonic Strings can take the form of any Family member regardless of gender, Tingyun was used as a vessel for Phantylia, and Aha Themself has been known to assume mortal form to toy with others. As such, any character who is able to quickly and effortlessly change appearance is a notable candidate for higher existence theories.

Which, of course, brings us to Sampo. As I detailed in my Character Story & Brughel Poisson analysis, Sampo not only has a history of genderfluidity, but of physically changing appearance with ease. Brughel Poisson seems to be an alias he uses often, to the point it’s implied he has an entire place of residence in the Overworld as her. While this could be purely for the benefit of his scams, it also shows a casual disregard for gender norms, the kind that almost seems to imply a more nuanced, complicated existence than what mortal frameworks can offer. 

I also have a theory that the reason Madam Poisson was so confident in talking about the wigs in Part IV is because the wigs don’t exist. If Sampo is able to shapeshift on his own, then there would be no need for wigs or other such amenities — his different identities would be so convincing because he literally changes his own appearance. Having such a power and doing so with ease would place him much closer to a higher being in my mind. 

However, even if we aren’t assuming he can transform on his own, his relationship with gender still seems very Aeonic in nature. Or rather — he doesn’t seem to care about it beyond what it can do for him. Again, the ease with which he embraces genderfluidity speaks to a deeper and more complicated relationship with gender, one that has been seen overwhelmingly in the cases of Aeons and Emanators. 

(Note: Sparkle has also been shown to directly shapeshift across genders as a part of the Masked Fools, however this power seems to come directly from her mask. Sampo, on the other hand, is able to manipulate his appearance (through his own power or otherwise) without his mask, giving the sense that his mask is either A. Only for decoration or B. Holding a power even more deep-rooted to the Elation than that of a common Masked Fool.)

Overall, I see lots of similarities between Sampo’s experience of gender and the experiences of higher beings. The almost uncaring nature towards gender norms, the casual fluidity of being, the ease of transformation — it’s all there. Also, as a genderfluid person myself, I just think it’s really neat!

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ જ⁀➴ thank you for reading to the end!

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© analysis by sunderingstars. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[solidwater05]

Big post with a whole bunch of species headcanons! Not every character is here and some headcanons have more detail than others simply because I happened to have more ideas for those

First I want to say that in my headcanon, avians and bird hybrids are different things. While hybrids (in general) are a mix of different species with any combination of traits, avians are pretty uniform in what kind of bird traits they have, and in general avians are genetically more similar to each other than random birds hybrids are to each other. With that out of the way-

Grian is a parrot avian, and he has a ton of vocal stims, from whistling and singing to mimicking noises he hears.

Martyn is a parrot hybrid, and he loooves to do silly voices and mimick creeper hisses

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Gem became an anglerfish sea monster of sorts thanks to the water in Hermitcraft. The same happened to Mumbo (catfish) and Grian (cod). And also False but I don't know what kind of fish fits her </3

Pearl is also a fish, but in a different way. She's a salmon that can shapeshift into a human (or any mix between fish and human, like a mermaid)

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In Secret Life, Gem had the great idea to replace her eye with an eye of ender. She became some sort of end portal creature. Nobody else has ever seen anything like it and frankly, they're scared. But Gem thinks that it's standard for a universe so full of horror

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Skizz is an angel, and angels are soulless! This is why he wasn't in Double Life, the soulbound mechanic didn't work with him.

Another angel is Zedaph, he's a sheep/angel hybrid. He has a weird half-soul thing going on but it's fine really.

Zedaph prefers not to fly long distances if he can avoid it, because long ago he hurt his wings badly and he has chronic pain now

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Impulse is a demon, and while demons can usually fly, his wings are underdeveloped and can't get him off the ground. He uses elytra instead.

Scar is another winged elytra user. He's a vex and vexes can fly, but it's painful for him to use his wings

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Scar is an actual vex like like the ones evokers summon, and he uses some sort of vex magic to appear hybrid-like. His true form is a little vex guy.

Cub is a human turned vex, and his hybrid-like appearance is his true form. He can look fully human if he wants to, but not fully vex

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Xisuma is a voidwalker. Voidwalkers are beings that form very rarely when particles and soul fragments lost to the void come together and become conscious. They're the only beings that can survive in the deepest part of the void

Voidwalkers are so rare that most of them live their whole lives without finding another living being, especially because they don't tend to leave the bottom of the void.

Because voidwalkers spend their whole lives in complete darkness, their eyes aren't super well developed. Xisuma's vision is blurry, he has visual snow, and he's very sensitive to light. His helmet actually filters out a lot of light so it doesn't give him a headache

His helmet also helps him breathe. Voidwalkers are not made for high pressure atmospheres

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Etho is a phantom hybrid. He's allergic to cats and also the sun. He needs very little sleep. His silver hair is not a species trait, it's dyed

^that's a Hermitcraft-only headcanon. I see him as a silverfish in the Life series, for no particular reason. The silver hair is a species trait in that case

Bdubs is a glare hybrid, being scared of the dark is part of his glare instincts. The moss coat isn't part of him but I'm sure he could be mossy if he wanted to. He can probably fit inside a moss block

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Tango is a blaze hybrid. Or a blazeborn? I imagine it's a similar situation to avians and bird hybrids but I haven't put that much thought into this one. And both blazeborn and blaze hybrid can be shortened to blaze anyways

She can't get burned, and water hurts him. Water breathing negates water damage

His flame naturally burns orange, but it can be other colors depending on what she's using as fuel. For example, the blue Dungeon Master look comes from burning soul sand

Her body temperature also depends on fuel. Normal, orange Tango freezes very easily, but blue Tango's body temperature is so high that he doesn't even feel the cold

He has tritanopia, as do all netherborns. There's only really two colors in the nether so beings from there didn't evolve the ability to see more than that

She can hover, which he uses mostly to break her fall and do big jumps

Because she can't touch water (without potions at least), he takes soul sand baths like a chinchilla. Yes, this makes him blue for a while