#the marvels BEAST INTRODUCTION
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sparkoflena · 5 months ago
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THE MCU WAS ALLUDING TO SO MUCH AND IT SEEMS TO HAVE FAILED ME.
I don't want more Avengers movies. I want something NEW in the X-Men and Young Avengers that the stories have been ALLUDING TO THIS WHOLE TIME.
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house-of-slayterr · 10 months ago
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Greetings and Salutations,
And welcome to The House of Slayter. I’m Your Host, Fang, and I’ll be your guide through your Fandom Fantasies. So buckle in as I take you down your path of choosing

Pick Your Poison:
Slashers/Horror
Harry Potter-Verse
Spider-Verse
MCU
DC Comics
Gotham (TV Show)
Criminal Minds
NCIS
Baulder’s Gate 3
The Vampire Diaries-Verse
The Lost Boys
Teen Wolf
Hannibal
IZombie
Adventure Time
Twilight
An: Will continue to update the list as I join more fandoms.
Side Blogs:
Little Blog: @little-buggy-beetle
@sammyhatesklowns
Vampire Role Play: @auroraofsaints
The Slayter Family đŸ„°:
Moonbeam🌙: @mothmans-kingdom
Bubbe🐳💙: @kados-of-chaos
Greenie🐾🌿: @emeraldfangs
Platonic Soulmate đŸ«€: @joelsgeetar
Wifey ïżœïżœ: @myers-meadow
Beetie 😊: @ajarofpickledtears
Petit Rat🐀: @the-limp-linguine
Grand-mĂšređŸ„°: @gabrielle-de-lioncourt-anon
My Queen👑: @oceansrose2002
Pretty WillowđŸ„€: @willowbrookesblog
Mothman🩋: @x-littlemoth
Onion Boy 🧅: @frenziedslashers
Pretty Penguin 🐧: @keffirinne
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cocoabubbelle-newblog · 9 months ago
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My personal opinion
Spoilers
Marvel Writers: Hank McCoy/Beast is irredeemable. He is a despicable villain. The version you will see in the upcoming comics is a clone of himself with only up to his mid-1980s memories/portrayal. If original Beast does come back, it will still be as a villain and he can never come back to the original team as a hero. He has no one to blame but himself.
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splooosh · 1 year ago
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“Like Heck you are”
Dave Cockrum
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itneedsmoregays · 7 months ago
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opultea · 6 months ago
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Eons Ago
You and your husband listen to a tale of the mythology from your homeland, and from your lives.
A.N. - Zhongli and Cloud god reader origin story! This pair originated from my Where's My Kiss? drabbles and then had a cameo in my Babe, Look At Me! headcanons. Maybe I'll make a masterlist for Zhongli and Cloud god reader?
Zhongli x Cloud God GN Reader (No Pronouns) - Romantic - SFW - Fluff
Word Count: 1.7k
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When the sky and earth were first created by Celestia's light, they were intended never to meet. If the sky and ground ever touched, the world would be crushed between them, all life lost to the weight of the heavens. But it seemed that even despite this fundamental law of Teyvat, when influenced by the force of love, not even the gods could help but disobey.
The world was young when the God of Contracts and the God of Cloud were born. The great dragon and shimmering white tiger roamed the lands alone, observing and discovering the world. The land was not as plenteous and grand as it is now, for the gods were young and had not created the wonders we marvel at today. The two gods wandered, familiarising themselves with their land and growing their power. And then they met.
Rex Lapis was the first to notice that he was no longer alone, and he was the first to fall. The dragon stared above as the white tiger lay in the clouds, the gentle shimmer of its fur the only way to tell its form apart from its bed. The god of contracts observed the calm and loving gaze held within the creature's glowing eyes, admiring the world below. Feeling himself pulled toward the god in the sky, Rex Lapis spoke;
"Oh great creature above, pray tell your name so that I might worship it as I do your beauty,"
The illuminated beast peered to the earth below, where the dragon perched on a mountain peak. Leaping down from the highermost clouds where it lay, the god observed Rex Lapis curiously, before speaking its name.
"I am the one they call Oculi Caeli, the one who dances in cloud.” The formality behind the introduction was dropped at the soft smile the cloud god formed, head tilting. “Although, neither this name nor this form needs such dutiful reverence. After all, it seems we are of equal power and beauty,”
Rex Lapis, intrigued by the god’s disposition, proposed a contract.
“Then, let us forever consider ourselves equal so that we may always treat each other as we deserve."
The contract was sealed, and a love was born between the sky and the earth.
Your hand flew to stop any tea from bursting from your mouth. Your hidden giggling caught the amused gaze of your husband, who took the teacup from your shaky hold.
"Are you finding the story amusing, my love?" Zhongli teased, though he lovingly stroked your back to calm your spluttering.
"I just wasn't expecting such an abrupt statement," You cleared your throat. "I'd like to think there was a bit more to it than simply 'and then they fell in love', wouldn't you agree?"
A deep chuckle resonated in Zhongli's throat.
"Yes, perhaps you are right. Though let us honour our dear storyteller and allow him to finish his rendition of this tale,"
When the first humans were born, their fragility was coddled by the god of clouds, who shrouded them from the burning sun of old. Their intelligence and fairness were nurtured by the god of contracts. Together, the two gods raised the people of old to lead them to the greatness of our nation today. The people adored their gods, touched by their kind-heartedness and inspired by their great love. Temples were erected to celebrate them, and not one was ever complete without a statue of the holy tiger and dragon mid-flight, locking eyes, tails intertwined.
"I've always thought it'd be quite difficult to fly with our tails intertwined," you whispered to Zhongli, brought out of the tale by imagining the silly action.
Zhongli chuckled, patting your thigh before nodding toward the storyteller, refocusing you.
However, two familiar voices make your head swivel. "Aether, Paimon, come join us," You call, waving your hand over toward the duo.
Paimon waves excitedly as the pair approaches your table at Third Round Knockout. Aether smiles apologetically.
"Are you sure we aren't interrupting your date?" He asks, concern mixed with some level of teasing in his tone.
Zhongli chuckles, his eyes glowing with a pleased sense of pride. "Nonsense. You are most welcome to join us. We indulge in your company, after all."
The pair take a seat, Paimon quickly helping herself to the red bean bun you offer her. She looks curiously toward Iron Tongue Tian, swallowing her food swiftly before she asks; "What's the story about today? You two seemed pretty interested in it,"
You and Zhongli share a look, knowing smiles exchanged. Zhongli takes your hand in his, affectionately placing the joined hands on his thigh.
"It is a story very close to our hearts," He says mysteriously. "I'm sure you will gather exactly what makes it so as you listen,"
Aether and Paimon tilt their heads, interest piqued as they listen carefully to the storyteller, who continues the tale.
But such prosperity could never last, for Celestia felt great unrest brewing, and the Archon War broke the world.
The world turned red, the land splattered with blood and the sky angry with the hatred that seeped from below. The cloud god walked through the war-torn plains of Teyvat with heavy sadness. Tempest and blackness had been forced from the sky, causing great tiredness and discontent in the god who had always adored the pure white clouds.
"My love," Rex Lapis' voice rang deep through the open plain. "It is not safe here; Osial plans an attack. We must make haste."
"This place used to be a bamboo forest, teeming with life." The soft tone took the god of contracts from his battle-framed mind. He kept his silence and waited for his love to continue. "Now it is torn apart. Not even the weeds grow here anymore."
"Caeli, there is nothing we can do for this place, but we can save our haven from the wrath of Osial if we go now."
"Osial and his wife are not much different from us Morax; they are two gods that will do anything to protect their love for each other,"
"That may be so," The god approached, bringing his hand to his love's waist. "But they are lovers on the other side of a war. Bloodshed may not be ideal, but it is the only path we have left."
The cloud god was despondent. The deity pushed Morax's hand away.
"I will not come to watch you tear them apart."
Rex Lapis did not understand. So he left and did exactly as they both knew he would. As he knew he had to.
When he next returned, Oculi Caeli was still on the ground, staring down at the earth.
"Why are you not amongst your clouds, my love?"
"It is too painful. To be up so high, and to have such an encompassing view of all the destruction and pain in the world below." The god gripped the dirt. "I wish you would bury me. So I did not have to see anything at all,"
Rex Lapis rushed to Caeli's side, on his knees to hold his love close.
"Do not speak this way," He pleaded, bringing his lover's head to his chest. "I will cover and covet you. I will shield you from all that troubles you. But I will never be the reason you are lost to me. This, I vow forever,"
In the years following, no one saw the cloud god. Some believed the deity to have died in the Archon War. Others theorised that Rex Lapis had sheltered his love away in the mountains, so he could protect and love Oculi as he had promised. Even today, no one truly knows what occurred, why the god left this earth, and whether the great Archon Rex Lapis has since had to mourn his love.
Today, our temples still carry statues of the two gods, tails intertwined and eyes locked with an eternal love that echoes through the sky and earth even after their death.
The audience applauds as Iron Tongue Tian takes a bow, some dabbing their eyes at the sentiment in the ancient tale. Paimon rubs her eyes of tears, shooting up from her seat and flying toward you and Zhongli, fists curled.
"What actually happened? You guys can't make us listen to that story without telling us the real ending!" She demands.
You giggle behind a crooked finger, settling a hand over her shoulder to calm her. A pensive look of remembrance passes over your eye.
"The theories are not so far off. I- Oculi Caeli could not take the pressure and tragedy of war. So Rex Lapis hid the god away in Jayeun Karst, where he placed Caeli into a deep sleep. The adepti watched over the mountain heart where the god slumbered, and for centuries, Caeli lived in a dream."
"They say Rex Lapis grieved as if his love had fallen, in the years they were apart," Zhongli continues for you, his smooth voice edged with an old pain. "But he also took heart, knowing that Caeli would not have to see him committing the atrocities he knew made the god's heart break,"
You squeeze your hands around your husband's, moving your knee so it sits against his.
"When Caeli was awoken, after the war, there was a bond to repair between the sky and the earth, as our storyteller put it," You smiled softly, your eyes meeting Zhongli's, a gentle understanding present in the silent exchange. "The time they had spent apart had changed them both. Living in the dream world for so long had placed a haze over Caeli's mind, and the war and bloodshed had hardened Rex. But they fell in love once, and they were more than sure they could fall in love again,"
The two of you share a small smile, and you lean to place your head on Zhongli's shoulder, a gesture he meets by placing a hand on your opposite shoulder to squeeze you discreetly closer.
"Aww, you guys," Paimon places her hands on her heart, evidently touched. Aether smiles at the scene, his heart warming at the prevailing love you shared.
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Notes: Oculi Caeli - Latin for 'the eye of heaven' (When Morax calls you 'Caeli' it means he's calling you 'heaven' 😚)
Literally never thought this would get out of my wips, but somehow it's here. Hope you enjoyed!
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piratefishmama · 4 months ago
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I Wish | Part 6
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It was a clean sweep, the guys called it quick enough, which was disappointing for Eddie since he’d never come across a monster quite like the beast he had to play with, but no amount of quick thinking from his band mates could save them from the untimely demise of their characters.
They didn’t have enough spell slots, hit points were straggling, their potions mysteriously vanished, the weaponry they were sure they had in reserves had been used, and only one real lucky saving throw wasn’t enough to save them the following turn.
The False Hydra lurking in the cliffside caves of Rainwund snatching sailors, their ships, townsfolk, and livestock got them. Each and every one of them.
They knew what it was too early though, with Eddie’s flippant dismissal of characters his bandmates were supposed to know, his adamant insistence that no, the town was always that quiet the hell are you talking about, Gare?
Jeff made a spot on educated guess.
It still hadn’t saved them in the end, Dougie’s character lost first with a frankly dreadful saving throw, followed by Gareth’s own little gnome who lasted one full turn longer than he should have, and then finally Jeff himself, but he’d called it. Eddie knew his own friends back home wouldn’t be so quick to catch on, which was the only saving grace for this short jaunt into futuristic DND possibilities.
He could completely blindside his friends.
Probably for the best given this whole thing was meant to fit into a neat little segment on a talk show. Not to span across hours and hours of gameplay, they were already cutting it close to too long.
So, Eddie wrapped it up. With Jeff’s demise, Eddie rose to his feet, arms extending in a great sweeping arc “You fought bravely, oh daring soldiers of ill-fate, however upon this sorrowful day, the town of Rainwund was lost to the song of the False Hydra, it, and it’s victims, would be forgotten by the world and all who walk upon it. Perhaps one day, one fateful day, a new team of would-be heroes will find and defeat this deadly foe, but until then
 I humbly bid you fallen soldiers, a peaceful journey to the great beyond.”
The lights dimmed, and for a moment, there was silence while set personnel found their places, then the lights overhead relit with the cameras refocused on the desk and chairs, where Jimmy had relocated.
“Everyone give a big hand to the members of Corroded Coffin!” Applause and cheers rang through the studio, over which he made quick work of reiterating album release dates for them, followed by a quick request of, “stay tuned after the break we’re joined by the cast of MARVEL’s new—” Eddie tuned him out for the rest of it, they were being guided off by stage crew, their segment was over, it was done.
The bubble of imagination popped, the activity giving Eddie a modicum of comfort was over and done with, and maybe he’d stretched it on just a little longer than necessary with peppered suspense, but he couldn’t hold off whatever came after anymore.
Steve met them behind the curtain, beyond the veil of stage lights and TV magic, he gifted the boys little Tupperware containers which they plucked from him as they walked by full of snacks he’d apparently pilfered from the catering tables, Eddie however, he gently manoeuvred Eddie into a side room out of the way with a chirped little “and you’re coming with me, hotshot.”
The room which was dressed up like some kind of fancy dungeon, had curtains pinned to the walls, fake candles flickering on tables, and in the middle, surrounded by chairs, was a table topped by a haphazardly drawn dungeon map and a few mini figs, it looked a little bit like a discount version of his drama room domain in high school.
“What’s goin on?”
“Jimmy wants to do a little opener introduction thing with you as the frontman of the band, it should have been filmed before but you were a little in your own head, so to make you feel better they figured it’d be best to do it afterwards. It’s nothing scary, it’s to go with your little DND thing out there, he wants to basically ‘walk in’ on you as a dungeon master, scheming with a few of your mini figurine things. Maybe throw in a little maniacal laugh for him to walk in on. Is that okay?”
“Oh, uh
 yeah, okay, yeah that’s fine, I can do that” one last thing to do, not that it mattered much, but it was part of the experience! But then
 thinking about it, “is there any point to that though?” Steve raised a single brow in question “I mean, I’m going home right?” The second brow joined the first and Eddie couldn’t help but panic a little. “I am, right?” He couldn’t imagine going through all that without the assurance that he was going home after it all.
What a wild thought, considering fame and fortune had been the goal for so long, just one interview and he was ready to throw in the towel, and it wasn’t even a bad interview. He just
 didn’t feel the happiness he thought he would.
He felt
 lonely.
His band were off with their snacks, hadn’t even looked back as he was guided away from them, his ‘partner’ had ditched him before the whole thing, he’d ‘blocked’ him, whatever that meant, and even the fun opener with the host wasn’t a whole band thing, just him. On his own.
All alone.
“If you want to, sure, just say the word. Didn’t you wanna experience this first though?”
“I guess
” Steve took one prolonged look at him, then snapped his fingers, the flickering faux candlelight froze, the sound from outside the room stopped, everything just. Ceased, and Steve dropped the mirage of normalcy he’d adopted to blend into the masses, returning to the damn near ethereal looks he’d had when he’d first appeared “Steve?”
“I’m not going to force you to experience something you’re emotionally done with, Eddie.” Steve stepped closer to him, just close enough to take his hand and give it a gentle squeeze of reassurance. His hands were warm, big
 comforting
 fingers smooth but they tingled against his skin, as if the digits themselves were wrapped in a magical field of energy. They probably were. They were an instant balm to his drooping mood in any case “If you’re done with this
 if you’re tired, you can opt out, leaving this time behind wont hurt anyone here, you can go back home, and we can do something else.”
Gods there was just something so dangerous about Steve, not in the literal sense, although probably yes, in the literal sense too, but he was so
 everything. He was everything. His eyes alone, the worlds most valuable golden trinkets couldn’t compare to the shimmer in those eyes of his, as subtle as it may have been, there were flecks of gold in that hazel-green hue. Eddie could have probably lost every single minute, second, millisecond of his available lifetime, just looking at him.
How did he ever think this man was just a random homeless stranger wandering in from the cold? Better question, how was he going to manage being even remotely normal around him going forward?
“I feel like, if I stay
 I’m going to walk directly into like, the worst possible thing an it’s gonna make me feel like shit, what’s the odds of that?”
“Mmmnn” he squinted an almost pained expression, tilting his head just a little as he thought about it “ninety percent chance of a bullshit experience.”
Eddie took one more look around the room, then down to his aged and weathered hands clasped within Steve’s own, nodded in self-affirmation, and then met Steve’s eyes once more. “Steve
 I wish we were home.”
With a twinkle of the golden flecks in his eye, a warm smile on his lips, and a snap of his fingers, the makeshift dungeon room melted away out of existence. He hadn’t witnessed this the first time around, getting to that time had been a black out, and then he’d woken up to it all. This time, Eddie got to watch.
He got to watch as the world reshaped, formed around them, he got to watch his hands de-age, the wrinkles of time worn into his skin disappearing before his very eyes, tattoos that’d marked his arms vanished until only the ones he recognised remained. His clothes returned, his body regained its youth and all the aches and pains that’d lingered in the back of his mind as a rockstar faded away.
And just like that, the trailer materialised around them. It was dark outside, as if nothing had changed. As if no time had passed. The smells, musty cigarette smoke, the faint scent of coffee, the pitter-patter of rain hitting the roof and gravel outside. He was home.
And Steve was still there, smiling at warmly him, as if he hadn’t just reshaped reality around them, as if everything was normal.
“Better?” His voice even sounded warm, like a heated blanket on a cold day, instant all enveloping comfort.
He wanted to say yes. Wanted to at the very least nod his head, but everything all at once was so very too much, everything he’d been working towards, that they’d been working towards, the band practices in Dougie’s garage, the ‘gigs’ at the Hideout, all the talk, the plans, the promises to themselves that they were gonna make it, they were gonna do something with their talents.
He’d hated it. He’d hated everything about it. He couldn’t even recall if Wayne had been mentioned during the whole ordeal. Was Wayne still around? Was he present? In his life at all? Had he just abandoned his uncle for deeply unfulfilling fame and fortune?
His next exhale came with a sob he couldn’t hold back, and instantly he found himself drawn into two broad arms and a strong embrace. “Oh, Eddie
 hey, no it’s okay, I’m here, it’s okay, you’re okay” words uttered so softly into his hair, close enough to his ear that he didn’t have to strain to hear them over the opened floodgates that were his sobs.
He’d tried so hard, for so long with that one goal in mind. And he’d hated it. He couldn’t even stick around for a whole day without the promise that he could get the fuck out of there at any point, and even WITH that promise, he’d bailed early. He couldn’t handle it. He didn’t want it. After all that planning, all those promises to himself, to the band
 he didn’t want it.
He was already too far into his life to plan for anything else. He wasn’t getting into college, he struggled to hold down normal jobs, not that he could even get one with his family name hanging over his head, with Al and his bullshit haunting him around every goddamn corner. People wouldn’t even hide their damn sneers, probably wouldn’t even interview him even if he did wanna work there, which he probably didn’t.
His life was one big dead end. How would he even face his friends? How would he even explain it to them? That he couldn’t, that fame wasn’t meant for him? That the cards of life would hand him the shittiest of deals if he stuck around for that draw?
He only vaguely registered Steve moving him as he spiralled, as he sobbed into the Genie’s shirt. The gentle guidance that took him from the living room where they’d rematerialised, to the chaos that was his own bedroom, and then onto his bed, ever so gentle in his manoeuvring that Eddie only realised they’d switched locations when Steve actually wrapped him in his own blanket, always with one arm around him. Never letting him go. Ever so attentive to his charge. Eddie chanced a look at him, his eyes wet, red rimmed, Steve looked perfect.
Of course he looked perfect. Not a hair out of place, his skin shimmering gold in the light. Perfect and entirely too soft in his attention on him.
“I—” Steve shook his head, his smile lacking in pity but drenched in sympathy.
“It’s okay, Eddie
 I get it. This is a lot, what you’ve seen, witnessed, what you now understand about that life it’s a lot to take in. You’re going to hurt for a while, but you’ll be okay.”
“W-what do I even—even do now? I—I was gonna—the plan was always—I don’t have anything else, Steve
 what am I gonna do?” His friends would be fine. They’d always be fine. They had options, parents who forced them to think of what ifs, of back ups for if the fame and fortune didn’t work out. Funny how it wasn’t because it wouldn’t happen, but because it would, and that it’d suck.
Eddie hadn’t even let Wayne try and make him think of back ups. Fame was it, stardom was the end goal, they’d be famous, and everything would be perfect. How naïve he’d been.
“Whatever you want, Eddie, you have a genuine Genie right here” he even motioned to himself, smile widening a little in a kind tease, before it softened once more just for him “but right now, I think you should sleep, we can go through the rules of Genie ownership in the morning.”
“Rules?” Eddie sniffled, lifting a blanket covered hand to wipe at his face, it was fine, his blanket had seen worse. God he was so tired all of a sudden. Probably the meltdown.
“Genies come with rules, Eddie, we come with guidelines. You kinda ploughed through with that big one right from the jump, didn’t really give me a chance to give you the run down, no harm no foul though, you’re safe, and you’re wiser. We can go through everything in the morning when we’re less frazzled.”
“Okay
 but wait, my uncle, he’ll be home in the morning, he doesn’t—doesn’t know you’re here, where are you even gonna go?”
“Crone used to say that like the Fae—” Eddie wasn’t going to bring that up but he clocked it, the word snagged in his tired brain like a fish in a net, Fae, there were Fae? Fae were real? Steve continued undeterred “—‘my surroundings adapt to my presence’, like how she just blends into wherever she pops up, it’s weird, but it’ll be like I’ve always been here to him. He won’t even notice the difference. Nobody will. Just don’t send me back to my bottle, don’t tell me to go into my bottle. Don’t do that.”
“
 Why?” Not that he would if Steve didn’t want to be in the bottle, but didn’t Genies just
 stay in their bottles? Wasn’t that like, their homes?
“Cause you’ll lose me, I’ll lose you. I told you this already but
it's been a long day. Listen... sending me back to the bottle is equivalent to banishing me and you’ll never get me back again.” Maybe not home then, Eddie’s eyes widened, suddenly sobered by the idea of Steve just vanishing because he’d said something stupid. “I had a master last half an hour once because he told me to get back into the bottle to hide from his wife. I’m here, nobody will know what I am, nobody will think anything is wrong with me being here, won't even question it, don’t send me back
 please?” Steve took his hands into his own, holding them tight in his warm, tingling grip “I—I don’t wanna go back.”
It was the least composed he’d seen the Genie since he’d met him what felt like weeks ago. It’d been a few hours. A few hours, and that was in another timeline, time didn’t even seem to have passed in his own.
He looked
 desperate. Eyes wide, pleading. A smarter man might have questioned him, checked for loopholes, traps, anything nefarious a Genie might hide in plain sight, they were supposed to be tricksters after all.
But Eddie was not a smart man, he was also completely gone over those eyes. Tragic, really.
He sniffled once more, but nodded his head, eyes drooping, exhaustion catching up to him after his almost cathartic meltdown. “Okay
 but where are you going to sleep?” If Genies even slept, it wasn’t like there were many options in the single bedroom trailer. Wayne had to sleep on a fold out cot in the living room for crying out loud.
“I’ll sleep with you, that’s fine right?” Oh.
A smarter man, would also probably just use his unlimited wishes to wish for a second bed, but again. Eddie was not a smart man.
“Yeah okay, that’s uh—that’s okay.” Eddie was in fact the least smartest man he knew.
Steve smiled brighter than the goddamn sun, and Gods both young and old, Eddie was so very fucked.
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maniculum · 1 year ago
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Bestiaryposting: Wutugald
Welcome to the first installment of bestiaryposting! This week, we're going to try and illustrate everyone's favorite critter, the Wutugald! If anything about that confused you, you can find an explanation at (this link here) and all the posts in this series at (this link here).
That said, I think we can cut the introduction there... this one is actually a mildly morbid note to start on, but the order is randomized and I've decided to just roll with it:
There is an animal called the Wutugald, which inhabits the tombs of the dead and feeds on their bodies. Its nature is that it is sometimes male, sometimes female, and it is therefore an unclean animal. Since its spine is rigid, all in one piece, it cannot turn round except by turning its body right around. Solinus recounts many marvellous things about the Wutugald. First, it stalks the sheepfolds of shepherds and circles their houses by night, and by listening carefully learns their speech, so that it can imitate the human voice, in order to fall on any man whom it has lured out at night. The Wutugald also [imitates] human vomit and devours the dogs it has enticed with faked sounds of retching. If dogs hunting the Wutugald accidentally touch its shadow behind, they lose their voices and cannot bark. In its search for buried bodies, the Wutugald digs up graves. This beast has a stone in its eyes, called [redacted]; anyone who keeps it under his tongue is believed to foretell the future. It is true that if the Wutugald walks three times around any animal, the animal cannot move. For this reason men declare that the Wutugald has magical properties. In a part of Ethiopia the Wutugald mates with the lion; their union produces a monster, named [redacted]. Like the Wutugald, it too produces men's voices. It never tries to change the direction of its glance but strives to see without changing it. It has no gums in its mouth. Its single, continuous tooth is closed naturally like a casket so that it is never blunted.
So, there you are. Anyone who wants to illustrate or otherwise depict the Wutugald, post what you've got under the tag #wutugald, and I'll collect them in a round-up post in a week's time. (Appropriately credited, of course.)
And a reminder: please do not try and guess the identity of the animal described. I’m sure some of you recognized it, but keep it to yourselves. That’s not the point of this exercise, and if you start putting guesses in the tags or something, you risk influencing the artists, so please don’t.
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theredofoctober · 1 year ago
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MANNA FIC— CHAPTER ONE: PAPRIKA
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Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham fic, TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse, drugging, mild Daddy kink (it'll all make sense).
Chronologically this is the first chapter in the series.
Keep reading after the cut
Later, when you reflect on your first meeting with Dr. Hannibal Lecter, you will marvel at the Sybilan apprehension that had wreathed the merest detail of that night: the oppressive colours of his office, grey and vermillion from window to wall, the very choice to have you see him at an evening appointment, penning you in by way of the darkness.
Yet, as you sit across from Hannibal in a low leather chair, you contain only a spiteful rancour, one foot jouncing testily as the doctor attempts to extract answers from you beyond a penchant for grudging monosyllables.
“I understand that you have seen therapists in the past,” he says, in a neutral tone.
You stare at the curtains in their dissected oblongs of red and ash, like bloodied teeth against the wall: anything but meet the eyes that seem to have already picked you apart in the mere minutes you have been before him.
“Yeah,” you mutter. “A couple of times. CBT stuff. I hated it. Doesn’t work for me.”
Dr. Lecter offers you a smile so imperceptible that he might not have moved at all.
“Understandable. Cognitive behavioural therapy is a better fit for anxiety and negative thinking— it has its place, but for patients with deeper trauma, their illness may prove too complex for it to be effective. Dialectical behavioural therapy would perhaps be more suitable, in your case.”
Shrugging curtly, you do not ask him to elaborate. There is no therapy in the book that you would warm to; you had set out tonight only to put an end to familial begging, in its absence of dignity.
You resent the nakedness of your secrets before this stranger, before anyone, your suffering made public domain. Like a brow-beaten captive, you are moved to defend your self abuse against all those who seek to extract it from you.
Hannibal watches you with a dry intensity, his gaze rarely straying from your face. He is a lean, polished figure in an impeccable red check suit, dark hair swept back from a face of meticulous and rather interesting beauty.
His brows are low, almost invisible, his eyes small, and as dark as tree flux, the nose—straight, and as debonair as the rest of him—leading down from two furrows that suggest an earnest and curious whimsy.
His air, thus far, has been both tactful and polite, unperturbed by your close-mouthed unwillingness to yield to quizzing in even the most inoffensive line. You should like him, you suppose, yet you have already branded him an enemy.
He is a man; how could you ever be expected to open up to him?
“How long have you struggled with your eating disorder?” asks Hannibal.
You cross your arms over your chest, barring him out, a theological defence against the vampire of such dreaded questioning.
“You’ve read my records. You already know.”
“Certainly, but I would like to hear your experience in your own words. Such documents may represent only the most objective truths, and reveal very little of you, or what you are feeling at any given moment. Besides, they are as fallible as the professionals that create them. If there are any inaccuracies, your answers will bring them to light.”
The implication that you may share, with him, an honesty that you have refused previous therapists bears a quiet arrogance that might have won you over, were you not set so resolutely in your hatred.
“Fine,” you say. “I’ve had it since I was a kid.”
‘IT’; the word may as well be in baleful capitals, the introduction to some eponymous beast. You will give your ailment no other name aloud, have never done so, except in clandestine internet entry, forcing the thorn further beneath the nail.
Dr. Lecter digests your simple answer, finding flavour in its enigma.
“You have no intentions of recovery without intervention. What served you in your formative years, you will continue to savour.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever get better,” you retort. “It’ll always be there, so what’s the point?”
The question had shaken previous professionals into stumbling objection; not so Hannibal Lecter, whose ambiguous calm nevertheless bears the same imperceptible threat as the night.
“Would you say the same to an alcoholic?” he asks. “Many live out their lives through a succession of losses and victories, and likewise, many emerge fulfilled and content in having struck out on the path of self-betterment. Yet, by your logic, you would condemn them all in their relationship to illness.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” you object; your foot bounces so violently over the arm of the chair that Hannibal glances at it, his focus unbalanced by the distraction. “It’s different for me, okay?”
“In what regard? What prevents you from regarding your own struggles with the same grace?”
“It’s... it's not the same. I don't want to talk about it.”
Panic makes you feel almost buoyant in the room, a kite with your string cut, to be devoured by the wind.
“You have not yet reached the point that recovery seems possible, or even desirable to you,” says Hannibal, across your distress. “That is quite normal. For many individuals with eating disorders, recovery can take up to ten years to achieve— a long and difficult road, yet while there is no permanent cure, there is still reward in that destination.”
This you have heard before, in other iterations; he loses you a little, a mistake that he seems to catch in your reply.
“You don’t understand.”
“If you mean that I cannot directly empathise, that is true,” says Dr. Lecter. “I do not share your struggles. Food is a great pleasure to me. Still, I comprehend the crux of your illness— that you once seized a handhold in a rock when you were falling, and still refuse to let it go when there is earth to hold you.”
You continue to jiggle your shoe in a pattern of agitation.
“You’ll never be able to hold me.”
Hannibal leans forward and places a hand upon your foot, guiding it soundly still again.
“That remains to be seen.”
Your breath peters in your throat. It apalls you that he has touched you without asking, that his hand—so warm through the leather of your sneaker—makes you imagine it within the wet turncoat of your cunt.
Suddenly you’re standing from your seat without acknowledging the motion that led you there, like a frame scratched from an old tape.
“I’m leaving,” you say, abruptly. “I’m sorry. This just isn’t for me.”
Hannibal looks up at you, and the still, smooth planes of his features alarm you in their lack of urgency.
“Please,” he says. “Sit down. You will not be leaving here today.”
He is so slim and unassuming in his tailored suit that you feel yourself the red-capped girl of fairy tale, entering an elder’s cabin to the appetites of a wolf.
“What are you talking about?” you whisper.
Dr. Lecter leans forward, speaking with a low and graceful regret.
“I must inform you that your parents have signed a written agreement for you to enter inpatient care, overseen by myself and a colleague.”
Betrayal breaks across you in a death bed sweat: how could they? What have they done?
“No!” you say. “You're lying.”
Dr. Lecter pats a folder resting on the arm of his chair.
“I would be willing to show you the paperwork, if you insist upon it.”
“I don’t care,” you say, your voice a shrill of indignation. “They can’t just send me away without my permission! It’s illegal!”
“As guardians to a vulnerable adult, it is entirely so.”
You don’t believe him, although your parents evidently did, pressed by their earnest desperation to reverse the agonies of time.
“Whatever,” you say, coldly. “I’m not staying.”
Hannibal tilts his head at an angle of frosty amusement, and suddenly you grasp that this is no ordinary intervention, but incarceration, for reasons yet unknown.
Terror snarls through you like thunder, and you run for the door, wrenching at the handle to find it locked against you.
“What the fuck?” you cry, though you had known in your most basic, animal senses that this man—this room—would be your undoing.
Dr. Lecter has gotten up from his seat and is striding towards you, seizing your arms at the wrists, as firmly as a father; you turn your head in a feral reflex and attempt to bite him, stalled by the wool of his jacket in your teeth. He turns your writhing figure towards him, your skirt bunched up to your waist in the struggle, his palm a blacksmith’s tool on your bare skin, a scarring heat.
His expression is scarcely altered by the struggle, his breathing slow, even. You are no threat to him; he has surely restrained patients like this before, a necessary training.
You will not go quietly, as perhaps others have, before you. You bring your knee into his groin until you hear him grunt in the desired pain, but he does not lose his grip upon you, only drives you back against the door, his eyes churning with a wild satisfaction.
“You will learn not to disobey, little one,” he says, and before you can absorb the threat there is a needle at your neck, and chemical night.
You half-wake some hours later to the voices of two men, one of them Hannibal, the other unfamiliar, speaking in a curt and cautious rhythm.
“This is her?” asks the unknown man— through fluttering eyelids you see him, all rumpled hair and scowling good looks, an image from some obscure BrontĂ« novel. “The patient you talked about on the phone? What have you given her? She looks out of it.”
“A mild sedative,” Hannibal replies, “with some additional compounds. It’s alright, Will. She will revive soon, likely in a confused state. This will pass.”
Will hangs back, his mouth an angle of uncertainty.
“Forgive me, Dr. Lecter, but I’m a little confused as to what I’m doing here.”
“Your role will be paramount to the healing process,” says Hannibal, touching a hand to his colleague’s flannel sleeve with familiar tenderness. “Together, we will each be whatever our subject requires from one moment to the next. A healer, a father, a lover, a friend—”
“All while crossing the boundaries of what could be considered valid treatment into an inappropriate relationship,” Will cuts in, sharply. “Surely that’s only going to make things worse.”
Dr. Lecter approaches you, adjusting a pillow behind your head; you are too out of it to object, unsure whether it is a chair or a bed you occupy in your prone state.
“What is appropriate is not always the most effective method of healing,” says Hannibal. “This patient requires complex support. Decisions to be made for her that other professionals would not be comfortable making.”
Will shakes his head, grimly amused.
“And you are.”
“Certainly. Over the years I have seen results from the most unorthodox approaches. I have an interest in observing how she will respond to mine.”
You watch the two men exchange glances, and blearily wonder if they are merely friends, or something more.
“Dr. Lecter, I have no idea how to connect with her,” says Will. “And frankly the idea of trying isn’t something I’m particularly enthusiastic about.”
“Your discinclination to be involved may work to her benefit,” says Hannibal, smoothly. “While my part is to provide gentle guidance and compassion, you will offer the firm hand required to leash the chaos of her disturbed mind and behaviours.”
Will scoffs in disbelief.
“The good cop, bad cop routine? That seems a little obvious for you, doctor.”
“And yet it may be precisely what she craves. Stability. Discipline.”
At this, there is a certain change in the air of the room; one day, you will know it as hunger, so many appetites contained between two men.
“Well, which one is going to come first?” asks Will, relenting. “Stability, or discipline?”
“When she is fully awake, we will know," say Hannibal. "And we will deliver it.”
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thedissonantverses · 30 days ago
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Dragon Age as an Introduction to Post-Modernism(Part 1)
“The center cannot hold.” This is one of my favorite quotes in the English language. You’d think I’d have first heard it one of my many literature classes but no, I first saw it in Stephen King’s The Stand, which if you haven’t read it is a buck-wild coked out good vs evil narrative where the Antichrist uses the U.S. Military to destroy the world.
Anyhow, the full poem is by William Butler Yeats and goes like this:
“Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?”
Now dear reader, I don't know about you, but when I read that I am strongly reminded of:
"And so the Golden City is Blackened
With each step you take into my Hall.
Marvel at perfection for it is fleeting.
For you have brought sin into Heaven.
And Doom upon all the World. "
Before we go any further, we need to define Post-Modernism as a school of thought. But first, we start with Modernism because it is easier to define the former against its predecessor. In a lot of ways, Modernism was driven by schools of thought like the Enlightenment. There's the idea that there is some kind of utopia humanity is striving for. If you were a say, white, upper-class man in the 1880's who sees more democracies forming, more advances in science and technology, less restrictive rule of the church, it was easy to think that humanity was going to achieve some great final universal destination. Humanity is ultimately good and eventually everything will be okay.
Then WWI happened. Yeats’ poem above? The historical context surrounding it is the utter, devastating ruin that was WWI. A war often overshadowed by the sheer, unapologetic evil of WWII, but WWI was the first time in history humanity saw what horror technology, biological warfare, and mechanical ingenuity can unleash. Nine million military dead, 23 million wounded, and 8 million civilians dead. Try to wrap your head around those numbers. How do you cope with the knowledge that humanity is even capable of that kind of unmitigated destruction. That we can rip entire countries to shreds and not even blink. At the same time, the Spanish Influenza killed, by the lower estimates, 50 million people. The human brain physically cannot comprehend what those numbers look like. An entire generation was just gone. I cannot emphasize enough what this phase of history did to humanity on a large scale, psychologically and physically. All of the worst things we are capable of a species, we did and then some.
Which is how we get to Post-Modernism. Rather than aiming for some universal ideal, we are aiming to understand. The center cannot hold because there is no center and never was. There is no universal morality. Get comfortable with cognitive dissonance and unreality. Get comfortable with the idea that two things can and must be true at once.
Just to make it perfectly clear, Post-Modernism is not a centrist philosophy. There are very hard lines in the sand when it comes to things like slavery, genocide, colonialism, eugenics, centrism, fascism. We do not tolerate such things on this blog. Okay? Okay. One of the reasons I'm writing this is because I truly think the death of media literacy is contributing to the rise of fascism we're seeing world-wide. Forgetting, ignoring, and white-washing history is not the goal.
Another large takeaway from Post-Modernism is that if you read a war story and came away feeling inspired, it's probably a bad story. I strongly recommend Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five or Tim O'Brian's The Things They Carried if you want good books to explore this particular topic further. War is horror. It is the Void, the emptiness you stare into that stares back. It takes everything from you, including yourself. Trying to make sense of something so senseless is a Sisyphean task I, and many other have spent our whole lives chasing. One of the reasons I'm so fascinated by history was when I learned about the Holocaust and just could not understand.
Until I did.
As for how all of this applies to Dragon Age, what I want to spend the next four parts exploring how these ideas of unreliable narration, existential horror, history being written by the victors, and that one man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter are the whole point. I want to take a look at each game individually through my favorite literary school of thought. Hope to see you on the next part, where I shall tackle Origins first.
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oliverdeend · 2 months ago
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Introduction!
I’m Oliver and I’m a 19 year old hobby artist from Germany â˜ș
This is my first time being active active on here, soo.. I’m still new to this đŸ«¶đŸ»
I’m autistic and I may have spelling mistakes because I’m dyslexic and I’m not a native English speaker (please don’t be mean if I write something wrongđŸ„ČđŸ™ïżœïżœïżœïżœ)
This is a tickle blog and I thought I’ll post the stuff i usually post on instagram here too! (Most of them have bad quality because I deleted the original pictures, but from now on I’ll make sure they’re in good quality😅)
I think it’s also important to mention that I don’t do commissions or anything because I’m a very slow drawer who takes lots of monthly breaks đŸ˜”â€đŸ’« (but you can always ask/ DM me and I’m always reading asks/ DM’s â˜ș and if you’re lucky I might just draw you something if life isn’t too consuming and you’re not a demanding jerk entitled to my time)
(Help on how to do things/ run a blog and things I can do better is appreciatedđŸ™đŸ»đŸ©·)
Fandom list under the cut!
DC villains and Heroes
Tabaluga
Marvel (x-men too)
Slashers Movies
Disney Villains (maybe heroes too depending on who)
Adventure Time
Transformers (hopefully I’ll manage to get the details đŸ„Č)
Sh-Ra (on Netflix) / He-Man
Stop motion Movies/ Short Movies (a Mister Brothers Christmas, Peter cottontail, Wendel & Wild, etc..)
Ben 10 (and everything else that belongs to the franchise)
The Octonauts
Hilda (on Netflix)
Hazbin Hotel/ Helluva Boss
The little Prince
The Sandman (on Netflix)
9 (the movie from 2005 with the little “dolls”)
Star Wars the Clone Wars
School for Vampires
The amazing digital Circus
AnimeâŹ‡ïž
Welcome to demon school! Irim-kun
Assassination classroom
Seven deadly sins
Overlord
Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle
One Piece
Sacrificial Princess and the King of Beasts
I'm the Villainess, So I'm Taming the Final Boss
Ancient Magus Bride
That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime
Reborn as a Vending Machine, Now I Wander the Dungeon
Delicious in Dungeon
Dragonball Z (idk about completely all of it but I’ll try my best)
Comics/ Manga/ StoriesâŹ‡ïž
SiĂșil, a RĂșn - The Girl from the Other Side
The Invisible Man and His Soon-to-Be Wife
The Property of Hate
Vast Unknown
Creepypasta And SCP (not all of them but some)
Video Games
Dead by Daylight
Poppy Playtime
FNAF (again idk much about the new stuff but I’ll try)
Undertale (maybe Deltarune too but i don’t know much about it)
Backrooms
Lethal Company
Fran Bow
Little Misfortune
Night in the woods
I’m pretty sure I forgot some but this is all for now 😋
You can always ask for a Fandom even if it isn’t on the list, I’ll let you know if I’ll be doing it (and hey, maybe the new fandom even lands on the list if I like it :)
Side note: these are the ones I’ll be drawing or Writing for, not all I know. I know plenty more wich I just didn’t want to include because they’re too hard to draw or just not my cup of tea
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amethystandemma · 26 days ago
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Welcome to chaos!
My last introduction post is like a year old, so here we go.
AmethystandEmma’s Intro
Hi everyone! I’m Emma. I’m 20 years old, autistic, and a Christian. Plus a bunch of other stuff, but those are my main three things.
My username is AmethystandEmma because Amethyst, Princess of Gemworld is one of my favorite superheroes!
I’ve been writing fics since sixth grade, so about eight years now? I’ve recently gotten into drawing as well.
My main fandoms are currently DC Comics, Marvel Comics, Harry Potter, Hogwarts Legacy, and Fantastic Beasts. They are subject to change though, so keep that in mind.
As of October of 2024, I have become less active on all social media sites. I was feeling extremely stressed and social media was part of the reason.
I’m fine with minors being on here. I remember how lonely I felt without fandoms. It’s important to be able to connect.
It literally makes my day when people comment on my stuff or share it. I usually check out the other person's profile as well and try to spread the love back!
If you have any questions or just wanna chat, give me a DM or ask!
Pfp is a commission from @giselsann of Sebastian Sallow and Althea Moonlace (Sebthea). The header is also Sebthea.
Now, for my content (under the cut).
Fanfics!
The Funeral of Anne Sallow [COMPLETE]
Part 1
Proposal Gone Wrong (Newt Scamander x OC fic) [COMPLETE]
Part 1 -> Part 2
Radiant Glasspetal and the First Quidditch Match (Oliver Wood x OC fanfic) [COMPLETE]
Part 1 -> Part 2
No Making Out on the Quidditch Pitch! (Oliver Wood x OC) [COMPLETE]
Part 1
Young Love (Sebastian Sallow x OC) [COMPLETE]
Part 1
Times Are Changing (Oliver Wood x OC) [COMPLETE]
Part 1
The Wedding of Bruce Wayne and Silver St. Cloud [COMPLETE]
Part 1
Stolen [ONGOING]
Part 1 -> Part 2 ->
Rise of the Blue Comet (Dick Grayson x OC Fanfic) [ONGOING]
Chapter 1 -> Chapter 2 -> Chapter 3 ->
My Tags
DC: #aqua charming, #aqua grayson, #blue comet, #d'aqua, #callie eclipse, #macy cobblepot, #kindal blazilike, #red veil, #shane todd, #scarlet quiver
Marvel: #sunny castle, #sunshine castle, #sunny parker, #sunshine parker, #halo
Wizarding World: #althea moonlace, #sebastian sallow x althea moonlace, #evangeline sallow, #newt scamander x evangeline sallow, #rhea silverthorne, #ominis gaunt x rhea silverthorne, #zelma silverthorne, #eleazar sallow, #radiant glasspetal, #oliver wood x radiant glasspetal, #hadlee euphoric, #cedric diggory x hadlee euphoric, #damian glasspetal, #trial of sebastian sallow, #sebthea, #cedric diggory x hadlee euphoric, #cedlee
About my OCs
Althea Moonlace
Eleazar Sallow
Evangeline Sallow
Radiant Glasspetal
Rhea Silverthorne
Zelma Silverthorne
My Linktree is here!
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thequiver · 5 months ago
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Who is.... XuĂąn Cao MáșĄnh | Karma? - A Reading Guide
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XuĂąn Cao MáșĄnh is an X-Men affiliated character from Marvel Comics first introduced in 1980. XuĂąn is a Vietnamese refugee who parents both died on the passage to America, leaving her in the care of her uncle and in charge of herself and her younger siblings. XuĂąn's family is very important to her and drives much of her story. XuĂąn is most commonly associated with her first team and close friends, the New Mutants, and spends a considerable portion of her appearances with them. XuĂąn is also a lesbian and an amputee!
Despite the heavy importance of her heritage to her story, it was not until 2023, some forty-three years after her introduction that her name was officially changed to something recognizable in Vietnamese. This interview, with Vietnamese comic creator, Trung Le Nguyen, who had the opportunity of writing XuĂąn in 2023, does a great job of breaking down the issues with the spellings we see in earlier comics. While the change has been made to correct her name now, for most of the issues in this reading list you will still see the unfortunate old name of Xi'an Coy Manh and the nickname "Shan."
Reading list under the cut!
Introduction and New Mutants
XuĂąn was introduced prior to the formation of her first team. She spent a fair amount of time with the New Mutants before moving on to a more personal mission. Please note that this period contains some absolutely disgusting and highly targeted fatphobia towards XuĂąn specifically.
Marvel Team-Up (1972) #100A Marvel Graphic Novel (1981) #4 New Mutants (1983) #1-6, 29-34 New Mutants Special Edition (1985) #1 X-Men Annual (1970) #9 New Mutants (1983) #35-37 Secret Wars II (1985) #9 New Mutants (1983) #38-40, 43-44, Annual 2 X-Men Annual (1970) #10 New Mutants (1983) #46-48, 50-52 Fallen Angels (1987) #1-2 New Mutants (1983) #53-54
Search for Siblings and Adulthood
XuĂąn makes the choice to leave the New Mutants to search for her younger siblings, and embarks on what also becomes a journey of self discovery! She doesn't always have a HUGE role in these issues, which is heartbreaking, but when it comes to XuĂąn it's helpful to have as much information as possible even if she's only in one or two panels...TRIGGER WARNING: during New X-Men there is a deeply uncomfortable plot in which Rahne (Wolfsbane) forms a romantic relationship with a student....and all of the students are mad at the child and the staff (XuĂąn included) talk about how they need to forgive Rahne....
Wolverine (1988) #4-8 New Mutants (1983) #81 Wolverine (1988) #27-30 New Warriors (1990) #45 X-Force (1991) #33-34 Beast (1997) #1-3 New Mutants: Truth or Death (1997) #1-3 X-Force (1991) #75 Mekanix (2002) #1-6 X-Men Unlimited (1993) #43A New Mutants (2003) #4-13 New X-Men (2004) #7, 9, 13-15 New X-Men Yearbook Special (2005) #1 New X-Men (2004) #16-19 Decimation: House of M- The Day After (2006) #1 X-Men: The 198 (2006) #1 X-Men (1991) #183A X-Men: Manifest Destiny (2008) #1C Uncanny X-Men (1981) #501-503 X-Men: Worlds Apart (2008) #4 Uncanny X-Men (1981) #504 X-Infernus (2009) #2, 4 Uncanny X-Men (1981) #508
New Mutants- Again
In 2009, XuĂąn joins the newly reformed New Mutants and things are....definitely interesting.
New Mutants (2009) #1-4, 6-10, 12 X-Men: Legacy (2008) #235 X-Force (2008) #26 Uncanny X-Men (1981) #524 X-Men: Second Coming (2010) #2 New Mutants (2009) #15, 17-22 X-Men: Legacy (2008) #246 New Mutants (2009) #25, 27-28 Wolverine and the X-Men: Alpha & Omega (2012) #4-5 New Mutants (2009) #33
Regenesis & Utopians
Following the schism between Cyclops and Wolverine, XuĂąn followed Wolverine to Westchester where she once again found work at the school. After Utopia was abandoned she joined a group known as the Utopians.
Astonishing X-Men (2004) #48-56, Annual 1 New Mutants (2009) #44, 49 Avengers vs. X-Men (2012) #11 New Mutants (2009) #50 Astonishing X-Men (2004) #57-59 X-Termination (2013) #1 Astonishing X-Men (2004) #60 Age of Apocalypse (2012) #14 X-Treme X-Men (2012) #13 X-Termination (2013) #2 Astonishing X-Men (2004) #62-66, 68 All New X-Men (2013) #40-41 New Mutants: Dead Souls (2018) #1, 4, 6 Uncanny X-Men (2018) #12-19 War of the Realms: Uncanny X-Men (2019) #1-3
Krakoa
Like most mutants, XuĂąn moved to the island nation of Krakoa, where she rejoined the New Mutants...again and underwent the crucible in order to give her twin brother another chance at life.
New Mutants (2019) #1-2, 5, 7, 9-11, 14-19 Marvel's Voices: Pride (2021) #1L New Mutants (2019) #20-24, 26, 30-31 Love Unlimited Infinity Comic (2022) #31-36 New Mutants: Lethal Legion (2023) #1-5
Extra:
The 2023 Magneto series goes back over some New Mutants (1983) things to bring back Magneto the teacher, XuĂąn's in it and it's written by JMD so you know I had to recommend it!
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jayden-acquinas · 5 months ago
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Introduction
"You may call me, Scylla."
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~An X-Men/Marvel OC~ Mod being @vibrant-the-artist
ê§đ‘°đ’đ’‡đ’đ’“đ’Žđ’‚đ’•đ’Šđ’đ’ê§‚
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𝗱 𝗣 𝗘 𝗡 𝗜 𝗡 𝗚 𝗙 𝗜 𝗟 𝗘.
𝗱 𝗣 𝗘 𝗡 𝗜 𝗡 𝗚 𝗙 𝗜 𝗟 𝗘. .
𝗱 𝗣 𝗘 𝗡 𝗜 𝗡 𝗚 𝗙 𝗜 𝗟 𝗘. . .
𝗱 𝗣 𝗘 𝗡 𝗜 𝗡 𝗚 𝗙 𝗜 𝗟 𝗘. . . .
𝗱 𝗣 𝗘 𝗡 𝗜 𝗡 𝗚 𝗙 𝗜 𝗟 𝗘. . . . .
𝐅 𝐈 𝐋 𝐄 𝐎 𝐏 𝐄 𝐍
N A M E
Jayden Winters Acquinas
A L I A S
"Scylla"
A G E
Seventeen
P R O N O U N S
She/They
D A T E O F B I R T H
December 18th, 2007
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-⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘-
꧁A B I L I T I E S꧂
"The Sea Beast"
Can be broken down into many subsections of abilities, as most of Jayden's mutation affects her physical anatomy and how her body functions.
The Overview of all of these traits include:
Total Water Manipulation
Seeing Ultraviolet
Gills on the sides of the torso
Webbed hands
Fins on the ears, arms, and legs. Oddly enough, no natural tail(?)
Visibly sharper teeth
Very slight resistance to deeper water pressures
Resistance to lower temperatures
Prone to faster dehydration
Less nutrient gain from plants, naturally drawn more to a carnivorous diet.
Subject is very clearly akin to some sort of sea-monster, internal workings leaning more towards it as opposed to her outward human demeanor.
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꧁B A C K G R O U N D꧂
"I didn't mean to lose track of my ma..."
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...
Subject wanders the city and prowls the waterways.
No point of origin known at this time.
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m0chisw1rl · 2 months ago
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My Introduction + Boundaries àȘœâ€âžŽ ₊ âŠč
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Hallo!!! I’m m0chisw1rl but you can call me mochi! here’s something’s you need to know about me!!!
Gender- Female (afab) she/her pronouns
Hobbies- art,dance,and writing
Mbti- ISFP
Interests
Music
Current Joys - Tv Girl - Clairo - Laufey
Beabadoobee - The Smiths - Cas - Montell Fish
Mitski - Phoebe Bridgers - Conan Gray - Lana Del Ray
Faye Webster - Alex G - Arctic Monkeys - Radiohead
Billie Eilish - Mac Demarco - The Weeknd - Djo
Shows/Movies/Anime
Ponyo- Aurthur and the Invisibles - Mean girls - HxH
Howls Moving Castle - KNY - Silent Voice - Spiderman
Wild Child - Bleach - Tokyo Revengers - Big Hero 6
MHA - DeathNote - My Neighbor Totoro - Arcane
Things I’ll post
(diff from writing)
-random thoughts
-how im feeling (angry,sad etc)
-random angry rants (i get angry often)
- expect random posts and deletes | (‱ ◡‱)|
Writing (will and won’t)
Will
- fluff
-angst
-headcannons
- M & F reader (ONLY no character x character)- i don’t want ppl fighting over ships they don’t like
- smut (maybe, only for older characters)
-smaus
-oneshots/imagines
Won’t
-inc3st
-r@pe
-weird kinks (kn1fe,p1ss,and v0mit)
-b3astiality
-su1cide
-p3dophilia
-n0ncon
-yandere (stalking/predatory behavior)
Fandoms I Write for
-Kny (Demon Slayer)
-Mha (My Hero Academia)
-Stranger Things
-Harry Potter
-Fantastic Beasts
-Howls Moving Castle
-Percy Jackson (new movie)
-Avatar+Legend of Korra
-Naruto
-Criminal Minds
-OHSHC
-JJK
-Haikyuu
-Kuruko’s Basketball
-Genshin/ Honkai Impact
-Tokyo Revengers
-AOT
-Descendants (1-4)
-Chainsaw Man
-Saiki k
-Cobra Kai
-Kickass (1)
-Hotel Transylvania
-Miraculous
-Pen15
-Spiderman
(across/into spiderverse)
-Teen Titans (go&tv series)
-Marvel
-BSD
-Love and Deepspace
-One Piece
-Seven Deadly Sins
-Gakuen Babysitters
-Toilet Bound Hanako-kun
-Mob Psycho 100
-Dandadan
[also I write stories of my own characters]
wattpad profile -livingdead_g1rl
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I hope you all can respect, my rules and my boundaries
\(^ミ^)/!!!
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crystalbeetle888 · 4 months ago
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Animal Instinct Pt.1
Charles X reader X Erik
In the wake of losing a friend, you seek out revenge on Sebastian Shaw. However, you are not the only one after him, as a team of meddling mutants try to convince you to join forces. Will you give in to these persuasive outcasts, and join their family? or do it alone as you always have?
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Master List Pt.1 - Pt.2
Word Count: 2,289
Content: Violence, swearing, sexual references, possible bigotry it’s the 60s, slow burn, some angst, eventual happy ending, maybe smut?
1932, Western Australia
The summer sun beats down on the curious community. A sign, ‘Miss Miracles’ Marvelous Exhibition and Oddities’, stands proudly in the tall, dry, grass. Eleanor, a tall woman with luscious dark curly locks, and an equally well groomed beard, sits idly in the shade of some gumtrees, sipping on a chilled Cola. The sound of a distant cry interrupts Eleanors' peaceful evening. Looking back towards the rest of the circus performers none of them seem to notice. Another cry sounds out over the grassy field causing Eleanor to stand in concern, leaving her Cola on the dirt. Walking out into the grass, she follows the cries until she finds a small wrapped bundle laying in the weeds. Eleanor quickly scoops up the child, cradling them close as she looks around, hopeful to find their guardian. The field around her is empty, without any sign of life. The baby's cries increase in the midday heat. “Oh there you go” She coos, unwrapping the fragile being, the child's arms springing free from their confines in anger. Eleanor gasps in surprise, tracing the birthmark across their little face. “Oh my” She smiles gently “You’re just like us”.
Walking back towards the trailers and tents Eleanors’ body is flooded with love for the child. And in that moment she decides to raise the very special babe as her very own. 
1962, London
You walk through the dark cobblestone streets, the air is crisp and reeks with the stench on alcohol as you weave through the crowd of drunks. You duck down a skinny alley, stopping at a set of large metal doors. Knocking, the door cracks open to reveal a grumpy old man “You’re late Animal” Richard coughs. “Yeah, I know, I had some shit to deal with” you step inside. He scoffs at you, closing the door behind you both “Yeah well don’t let it happen again, you’re up against Bolt today” Nodding, you take off your Afghan coat and place it on a hook “When?” “Now” he replies before walking off. Sighing, you quickly smear some soot across your eyes and bandage your knuckles before stalking down the hallway. The sound of the roaring crowd is muffled behind the large metal door you stop at. Rolling your shoulder and stretching your neck you ready yourself “For tonight's final battle allow me to introduce to you the young and electrifying Bolt!” The crowd bellows and cheers, loud thunderous zaps echo throughout the building, your hair standing up from static. Patting your hair down, you groan allowing your signature wolf tail to extend from your spine, your ears growing long and pointed, covered in fur. “Our next contendant needs no introduction”
Your fingernails stretch into long sharp claws, your hands and feet elongating into a stretched out sort of paw. “She is the undefeated, the unchallenged, the untamable”
Your eyes honed in and teeth sharpened. You’re ready. “Ladies and Gentlemen give it up for the Animal!”.
The door rolls upwards from the floor and you step through into the blinding lights. The people cheer, shaking and rattling the cage in excitement. In front of you stands a tall, shirtless, sandy haired man, with fingers of electricity crackling from his skin. You roll your eyes and snarl at him ‘They can never keep their clothes on can they?’ you think. Crouching down as you leap towards him, he launches several strikes of lighting towards you in retaliation. “And they’re off folks! Animal makes the first move, but Bolt manages to keep this terrible beast at bay!”
You dodge and roll out of the way as he attacks you, running on all four attempting to get close to him. “It seems like Animal can’t catch a break, Bolts got her successfully locked out!” He keeps you back with his consistent assault. “This doesn't look good for Animal, she may have finally met her match!”
Beyond frustrated, you run to the opposite side of the cage and launch yourself off of the chainmail fence towards him. “But what is this? Animal has finally found an opening! Will Bolt survive the Animals' savage attack?”
Landing on top of him you manage to get in several hard punches to his face before he zaps you off, sending you flying across the cage. “Oh and it looks like the little miss wolf might have bitten off more than she can chew!”
Clutching your chest you groan in pain as the singed flesh regenerates, looking down you notice the front of your shirt fried off revealing some cleavage “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” you growl. A sudden zap to your back snaps you out of your thoughts. “Oo that’s gonna piss her off, watch out Bolt!” 
Turning around in anger you retract your wolf features and replace them with a large set of tan wings, sharper eyes, and razor sharp bird talons. “It seems like the Animal has a few more tricks up her sleeve”
Flapping your wings you fly across the cage, dodging the lighting strikes and jumping off the fence looking for another opening. Bolts’ moves get sloppier as time passes, he’s clearly getting exhausted ‘It’s only a matter of time’ you think. Thanks to your regenerative powers it takes an incredible amount of physical exertion before you become tired. “And it looks like Bolt might be running out of fuel people, what will he do next?” ‘God I wish he would stop commenting on everything’ you think, irritated.
Finally an opening occurs, Bolt throws himself off balance and stumbles. Leaping on the opportunity, you spring from the fence down into Bolt, throwing him across the cage and knocking him out. “Would you look at that! Animal has done it again!” The crowd goes wild hollering and whistling as you throw both fists above your head in triumph. 
“Well done Animal” Richard pats you firmly on the back before shoving an envelope in your hands “Now put your tits away woman, this isn’t a brothel” he grunts before disappearing once again, leaving you alone in the dark hall. The sound of footsteps approaching from behind causes you to turn, a lone pale man with auburn hair approaches. You take notice of his crisp suit and cigar scent. “You’re not supposed to be back here” You watch him with caution. The man smiles gently, yet no kindness can be found. “I’m only here to talk Y/N” he stops a few metres away. You narrow your eyes “How do you know my name?” You ask. “Dear, I know many things about you, I know you were abandoned to the freaks. I know you’ve suffered through great violence. I also know you’ve taken revenge on those who’ve crossed you-” “Yeah I do” He stares at you with an unreadable expression before chuckling “I think we got off on the wrong foot, my name is Sebatian Shaw and I am here with a once in a lifetime opportunity for you” You raise your eyebrow in question “There is a revolution coming when men will no longer tolerate our kind, not even as entertainment. Each of us will make a choice to be enslaved, or to rise up and rule. You are free to choose however know, if you are not with me, you are against me” 
You stare at the stupid man, wondering how someone could be so presumptuous.“With you leading us?” you ask unimpressed, “Yes” he nods, “So I’m still enslaved to a man” you question. Shaw chuckles clearly not expecting that reaction “I’ll take my chances on my own, now get the fuck out of my way before I mince you” The mans smile flattens as he steps to the side of the hall, allowing you to pass. Walking past him, he places a hand on your shoulder “You will regret this Animal” Turing to face him, you jerk your shoulder out of his grip and lean in close “Fuck off” you spit angrily before striding off down the hallway. Shrugging on your coat, you shove your earnings into your pocket and step back out into the cold night “I thought you’d never show up” A woman's voice calls out in the alley. Looking over, Star stands there hugging herself for warmth, a cigarette in hand. Star is a prostitute you’ve become unlikely friends with, her wild orange hair and intensely freckled face reminds you of home. Outcast by her folks for wanting to be an free-loving artist, Star found herself struggling to find work or friends. Something you could relate to. You have always found it difficult to keep a regular job or bond with well adjusted ‘normal’ people. Star reminded you of the carny folk, free-spirited, kind, accepting, slightly deranged and unhinged. Despite being worlds away from family, Star always made you feel at home.
“Had some shit to deal with first”, she smiles rolling her eyes “You always have shit to deal with” Chuckling you offer your arm to her, “Shall we?” “We shall” she giggles linking her arm with yours. Star likes to wait so the both of you can walk home together after work, given that you both live at the same dingy ass motel. Star rambles about her current clients, recent politics and fashion crazes, you nodding along as you walk down the abandoned streets. Your ears prick at the slightest noise. ‘It’s too quiet’ you note to yourself, the hair on the back of your neck stands on end as the air shifts. You stop walking, head swivelling at your surroundings. “What’s wrong?” Star whispers. You sniff the air, turning your back to her, cigars and heavy cologne, your brows furrow. Suddenly, the air flutters behind you and Star lets out a pained yelp. Spinning around, time seems to slow as you see Star gasping for air, a silver blade sticking out from her chest, blood pooling around it. A menacing red man stands behind her with a dark grin. You attempt to reach him but before you can produce your claws, he vanishes. Star stumbles forward and you catch her in your arms, her breath shudders. “It’s alright, you’re okay, you’re going to be okay” You whisper to her panicked. Sliding the both of you to the ground, you press on the wound, fruitlessly trying to stop the blood from seeping out. “Oh no, oh Star please don’t” You plead as her eyes begin to flutter in and out of focus and her breath shallows. “No, please, no, no” You cry, looking at your red stained hands uselessly. Your body shakes, breath lodged in your throat, as you watch helplessly as the light in Stars’ eyes fades and her body stills. You gasp for air, in shock at the death of your only friend.
“I told you, you would regret it Animal” You look up to see Shaw standing a few metres away, the red devil man standing behind him. “Humans are such fragile things really, and this one, well, I don’t think she could have been lower on the food chain if she tried” He chuckles, hands casually in pockets like he didn’t just take away the one person keeping you grounded. Your blood boils at his words, your claws and teeth quickly growing as you stand. “Such dirty business streetwalking, it’s a shame wasting such a pretty face like that-” You lunge at him with a roar, the devil man teleporting the both of them behind you as you fall and roll to the ground. Turning to face them, Shaw wipes his cheek of blood, you just managed to nick him. “Tsk Tsk, you really are a savage animal aren’t you?” He mocks. You snarl at him ready to lunge again “Don’t bother beasty, we could play cat and mouse all night” You bear your teeth, and tense to jump at him “When you’ve come to your senses I’m sure you’ll be able to find me” 
“I’ll fucking kill you Shaw!” You yell, overwhelmed by anger. He smiles “I seriously doubt that” and with that the two of them disappear once more, leaving you completely and utterly alone in the world. You feel empty, looking down at your friend's bloodied body on the sidewalk. Kneeling down, your hands ghost over her skin, almost afraid to touch her. You gently cup her cheek and brush some of her hair away from her face. You softly graze over her face with your hand, careful not to wipe any blood on her, as you attempt to burn the image of her face into your memory one last time. “Okay, it’s time for me to go Star” you whisper to her, leaning down and kissing her forehead. “I’m so sorry” pulling away you cry before grasping a lock of her hair and cutting it with your claws. Stuffing the hair in your pocket, you wobble to your feet and stubble away from her. You fear if you look back that it would somehow make this all the more real, and you might not be able to leave her body until someone made you. You knew you couldn't risk that. And Star would never want that for you anyway. So you stumble through the streets. You can’t tell how long you've walked for but suddenly you're back at the motel staring at your door. Unlocking it, you shakily step inside before closing the door behind you. You let out a shuttered breath, sliding down the door and onto the floor. Curling in on yourself you hug your head between your arms, letting out a muffled whimper. Your mind is numb and your body aches as you continue to lay huddled on the floor all throughout the night.
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