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#i physically cannot redesign him

little-pondhead · 1 year

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Thinking about if Dani ever gets added to the Villain Everlasting Trio au, like how would she fit in? Obviously the JL would have to figure out she's a clone and try and figure out why she exists ("maybe fenton is just that narcissistic?" flash asks, meanwhile batman is already texts agent a to get ready another room in addition to the three already prepared). Maybe she acts like the innocent kid in danger until heroes get close? batfamily trying to pspspsps her away from fenton? The trio collectively calling her their daughter?

I love this au so much, even if I still don't fully forgive you for making Tucker hot.

The way I SPRINTED to my computer.

Disclaimer: This particular AU has nothing to do with Fun Sized and Feral by @nutcase8691 or my Dani Fenton redesign from a while ago. This isn’t really important, but I thought the plot of this au might be straying the tiniest bit too close to the Feral AU (which I love btw) and I just didn’t want to cause confusion.

TLDR: Dani had to mature too quickly in their home world, so when she arrived in the DC universe, she finally got to slow down and be a kid. :)

Okay okay. Give me a moment. Since everyone is acting like the opposite of their usual self when they're playing villains, your question was, how would she fit in? To backtrack to this earlier post, I said that each of the trio's specific gimmicks somehow ties into their everyday lives. They looked at their immediate friends, family and acquaintances, picked out the traits they saw as 'villainous,' and then applied that to themselves.

Danny became a mad scientist because even though his parents love him through and through, they still hurt him the most. The threat of capture and dissection from the GIW didn't help, either. He wears a suit similar to his parents, pushes his hair up so he can see better, and his white lab coat looks a little like the GIW's suits. The suit is also red, which is the opposite of green, distancing himself further from his hero life as Phantom and connecting him more to his civilian self, where red is present on his shirt. He refuses to use his powers, as well.

Sam looks like an angel, which seems odd given her completely goth look and slightly pessimistic attitude. And if she uses her plant powers (shut up, she totally has them) as part of Team Phantom, then that rules out using them as a villain. They want to completely separate these alter-egos from each other. Well, one of the most significant sources of strife in Sam's personal life is her parents. In the show, they're seen constantly fighting with Sam, trying to mold her into their perfect daughter, when Sam is very obviously happy with how she is right now. So as a silent fuck you to her parents, Sam gets a hold of a Realm artifact, the halo, which gives her a pair of ghostly wings and the ability of flight. Now, she's the one in the air, and Sam is still doing what she does best, even as an angel. She tries to show the world that not all angels are perfect, and in fact, they can be downright monstrous. (This is where her more aggressive and destructive attitude comes in.)

As far as I'm aware, Tucker doesn't have any trauma related to his parents. (The lucky bastard.) He is the tech-nerd stereotype, however. And since he's from a cartoon from 2004, that means he gets bullied. A lot. The show focuses mainly on Danny, but you cannot tell me Tucker wasn't bullied like that, either. For the sake of the au, let's say Danny was taking all the beatings for Tucker. Maybe he was in canon; I can't remember. But not only is Tucker being physically bullied but so is his best friend. (Eventually lover!) And imagine his feelings when Team Phantom shows up to a ghost fight, and Tucker is absolutely useless the entire time. He just can't help at all. Danny and Sam are on the front lines, redirecting hits and doing damage control, and here he is, waiting for the Wi-Fi to catch up on his PDA. It eats him up. He wants to be helpful in more ways than one, and that's what the DC universe gives him. He takes another Realm artifact; this time, it's actually his by birthright, and the artifact drastically increases his physical power, just like he's always wanted. He learns Egyptian magic and dresses in a way that gives homage to his time in Egypt-which was traumatizing by itself, but hey, he has sweet beetle magic now.

Basically, Fenton, Manson, and Foley are all the results of the trio's frustrations and fears. They become the things they stress about the most to help cope with their everyday lives. The DC universe is their outlet.

So where does Dani fit in?

Well, Dani is a clone, as we know. Her creation and introduction to the world were rather sudden if you compare her to a typical baby. And that's what she is; a baby. Unless you jumped the timeline far into the future, Dani is barely a year old in canon (I think.) And after her team-up with Danny to defeat Vlad, she makes the decision to leave Amity and travels the world. She has to navigate an entire world independently, even if Danny wants to help her. So now, plop her in the DC verse. What's the opposite of an independent clone who's had to fend for herself from a very young age and has had almost no real familial bonds?

A kid. A scared, touched-starved child who's had no one to look after her for who knows how long. (Vlad doesn't count here.) Dani gets to the DC verse and cries because she and Danny can finally bond like she always wanted to. She doesn't have to put up a strong front because the trio is there to protect her. Dani is extremely young, and now she can finally be a kid. It's not mental age regression; instead, Dani no longer has to hold herself back from doing childish things or crying. Both are things that could be a danger when you're living on the streets. She spends almost all her time here now.

The Everlasting Trio had already missed her before, but they had just fully adopted her in this new world. Dani is their baby. Their little girl. She didn't ask to be born-she shouldn't have to suffer because it was unsafe at home. Well, they can make a new one, just for her, here in this universe. And look! There’s more clones for her to bond with! The GZ is more accessible than ever, and their commute between universes really isn’t that bad. They like it here! And the heroes and villains will never take her away, no matter how hard they try. Sure, Dani can have playdates with some of them, but she will wail and scream if anyone so much as suggests she stay the night without her parent's permission.

Oh, and she never stops being a little shit. If anyone doubts that Fenton and Dani are related, they are simply ushered online to see that one viral clip of Dani latching on to King Shark with her teeth and not letting go in the middle of a shopping plaza. The camera pans to the left a moment later, and the audience spots Fenton doing the exact same thing to John Constantine.

The first time the Justice League meets Dani, it's right after she got lost during a spacewalk with Danny and Sam. She enters the first place she sees, the Watchtower, and breaks down in front of Wonder Woman about how she can't find her parents and doesn't know how to get home. The heroes are baffled and try to comfort her until Danny comes barging in five minutes later, panicking over his baby girl missing. They reunite, the heroes are reeling, and Superman mentions he didn't think Fenton was old enough to have a kid.

Fenton looks up from his bear hug and goes: "Huh? Oh, no. I'm only seventeen. (work with me here) Dani is technically my clone, but we adopted her properly as soon as possible."

And now the League has two issues. Their most annoying enemy is only seventeen. And he has a clone.

What the f u c k.

Extra analysis: Dani's outfit is cleaner and a little fancier than what she wore in the show. She ties her hair up like Tucker and pins her bangs back like Sam. She already looks identical to Danny but likes to wear his sweaters, especially in cold weather. The oversized clothes remind her of her time with Danny in Amity Park, and helps hide her physique better, so it's hard to tell how old she is. She wears leggings to show that she no longer has to fight for her life every day on the streets. Now that the trio adopted her, she can relax and let someone else take the hits for a while. (We all know how fast leggings and tights can be ruined when doing literally anything.) Fright Knight gifts her a cursed doll that helps protect her in stressful situations and functions like an SOS beacon. JLD hates the bear. (She named it Strawbeary.)

She acts on her impulses more often, which the trio sees as a good thing. Even if that impulsive desire gets her in trouble, it gives everyone a chance to learn and grow as a family. Dani also refrains from going ghost at first, following her dad's wishes. Right now, she's just giving herself a break from her previous nomadic lifestyle. After a bit, she and Danny will bond over their halfa status, and she'll grow into her own unique core and powerset. The heroes dread the day the littlest Fenton decides to join her parents in their shenanigans.

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your-ne1ghbor · 11 days

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Star Boy Redesign (again help)

Ok, so I only changed his design since it looked pretty bland to me, so I added more to him. Ofc, you can't really see the bottom half of him (mainly because I didn't render it lol), but it is somewhat the same as my last redesign with slight changes.

And yes, if his magic is stolen, it can be returned, but he would just be as someone would concider dead until his magic is returned to him.

Character sheet:

Yes, he is a shape-shifter, but HE CANNOT TRANSFORM INTO OTHER HOMANS. He can only transform into his human form.

In each transformation, he has certain features applied to them, like how he has his lil cape on the mouse and rabbit version of himself, and others like the deer having some more star patters on the fur. I am debating if he can transform into objects too, but I'm personally not sure yet.

Also for anyone thinking: Wow he is pretty powerful, does he have limits?

And yes, he does. He cannot hurt people. Not because he is a pasifist, no its because thats not how Wishing Stars Function. They are only here to guide the user, give them items or advise to help them achive their user's goal. But they can heal people and animals physically but not mentally. He can also create stuff to protect the user plus other people if harm gets into their way like shields, but not weapons like swords or spears.

Personality wise, he is like a mix of Arial and Peter Pan, but like....JACK FROST CODED yk?? Still working on that part, but he is getting there :)

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gaybae1021 · 8 months

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Talkin mcd werewolves

I always had such a spot spot for the mcd werewolves. Specifically, I really liked how they didn’t go down the Twilight route, keeping traditional anthro and scary designs and not doing Alpha bs (cough cough mystreet).

That being said, the werewolves felt kind of poorly defined to me, the tribes were more like plot devices, appearing and vanishing without any real discussion of the impact. The fact that Bodolf’s tribe was hardly mentioned in season 2 I think shows that they ran out of ideas for the werewolves.

Luckily my brain is absolutely overflowing with ideas about them, so here’s my redesigns and thought process:

To anthro or not to anthro?

While I really liked the choice of anthro werewolf designs, I absolutely suck at drawing anthros. It also felt weird doing that for child characters, I know the series kept kids as normal wolves but does that mean werewolf puberty involves an awkward transition from animal to anthro? It just kind of Icked me out, so I’ve decided to keep all werewolves as full wolf transformations. Unlike twilight though, I’ll be largely referencing Wolfwalkers.

Tribes

I know the series had four tribes, but so far I’ve only needed three for the story. If I ever need more tribes, I’ll add more. I haven’t named them yet either, so I’ll denote them by color for now.

Red Wolves

Og wolf tribe, led by Bodolf and Khira. Wolves in this tribe are smaller than the other tribes, with shorter limbs, tails, and muzzles. They have light patches on their muzzles, above the eyes, and on their paws. Brown and Amber eyes are most common.

Brown Wolves

Yip’s destroyed tribe, and also the type Logan was turned into, hence Yip bonding with him so quickly. They are the largest and stockiest wolf tribe, with wide muzzles and short ears. They have lighter markings under their eyes, on their chests, and the underside of their tails. Green and hazel eyes are most common.

White wolves

Fenrir’s tribe. Medium-sized, but thin and lithe, almost more fox-like than wolf. Large ear tufts, neck ruffs, and tails make them look larger than they are. They have dark markings inspired by huskies. Blue and grey eyes are most common.

All tribes, despite size difference, are significantly larger than actual wolves, and most adults werewolves outweigh the average human.

Werewolf Creation

Werewolves can be born by having one or two werewolf parents. They can also be created by being bitten by a werewolf while in wolf form. The person will become the same tribe as the wolf that bit them. Children’s marking will usually follow basic genetics, but those bitten can develop markings independent of the appearance of the wolf that bit them.

Transformation

Transformations, like in Wolfwalkers, are astral projections. The person does not physically transform, rather their consciousness leaves their body and manifests as a wolf. This most often occurs during sleep, but anything that causes a “disconnect” between mind and body can also cause the transformation. So being knocked unconscious, meditation, or sufficient intense emotion will also do the trick.

Communication

Werewolves in wolf form can still understand spoken language, but they cannot be understood by humans. Werewolves in human form can still understand werewolves in wolf form.

Injury

While transformed, the two forms are still linked. Injuries sustained to either form will transfer to the other. In the same way, so long as one body is being sustained, the other does not have sustain itself. Since the body is technically resting, the wolf does not need sleep, and so long as the wolf hunts, the body does not need food. Hypothetically, werewolves can remain transformed indefinitely. However, there are risks associated with this.

Lost werewolves

In the past, Werewolves were occasionally used in blood sport and hard labor. A massive beast of human intelligence that never needed sleep? It was easy to see why fighting arenas and military generals were eager to capture werewolves and use them for their own gain. Sometimes, they would manage to escape, but they no longer knew where their bodies were. Being separated from their bodies for long periods of time would essentially cause them to go feral. These “lost werewolves” are essentially immortal, the strength and instinct of a wolf combined with a faded but still present human cunning, and no need for sleep. The stigma of werewolves as dangerous is mostly due to the few cases of attacks by lost werewolves. This is what happened to Logan, and also what destroyed Yip’s tribe.

Leaders

No alpha crap in my version, we’re following actual wolf behavior with a leading couple. I don’t necessarily think the tribe is a fully related family unit like wolf packs, bringing new people into the tribes is actually quite common, but most of the tribes definitely follow the idea of “they are our leaders because they take care of us” not for any strength/bloodline reasons.

Now onto the werewolf characters I have so far!

Bodolf and Khira

Leaders of the red wolves. Both have equal authority, though are quite different in their beliefs. Bodolf is more open to working with humans, whereas Khira is less trusting, and unless a human is joining their tribes wants very little to do with humans.

Logan

Turned after an attack by a lost werewolf. Initially struggles with accepting this new part of himself, but becomes more comfortable with support from Donna and Yip. Gains his leader mark after fully accepting his role as Yip’s guardian. His growing family kind of symbolizes the regrowth of a tribe that was almost wiped out.

Yip

Last surviving member of the original brown wolves. Was taken in by Donna and Logan while they searched for his tribe, and more importantly, his body. Eventually Logan and Yip find the ruins of Yip’s tribe, and after an epic showdown with the lost werewolf that turned Logan and attacked Yip’s tribe, are able to bring Yip’s body home.

Leona

Child of Kiki and Zane. Initially human, she was born very weak, and Zoey didn’t have much hope she would survive. Desperate, Kiki took her to the Red Wolves, hoping that turning Leona would give her the strength she needed to make it through. Bodolf was out, so Kiki had to plead to Khira, who has never been fond of her. Khira initially refused, as she had no idea what effects turning a child would have. She also insisted that if she did it, Leona would have to stay with the tribe. Kiki was able to convince her otherwise, and Khira begrudgingly agreed to turn Leona. The turn was successful, and Leona’s health improved, though she has some developmental delays and stunting.

Donna

Le gasp, a significant shift from canon! Not entirely sure if I want her to become a werewolf, but at the same time it would be incredibly cool and give her something else to do in season 2 besides generic mom. If she is turned, it was either an accident by Rollo/Lello, or she intentionally had Logan turn her. She gets her leader mark at this point.

Rollo and Lello

Identical twins, both in human and wolf form. It can be difficult to tell them apart while transformed, though their personality differences make it clear who’s who very quickly. Rollo is energetic and playful, while Lello is more reserved.

Fenrir

Prince of the White Wolves. Unlike the other tribes, during the timeskip his tribe has adopted many human practices. They live in a more traditional kingdom, and have more traditional power structures. For example, Fenrir’s mother has significantly less power than his father, and lacks the leader mark. Fenrir recognizes the problem with his tribe’s new practices, but doesn’t stand up to his father. He is kind, but also cowardly, and when push comes to shove his loyalty stays with his family. Takes the role of leader after his father is killed by Laurance.

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joron1a-stardustlor · 4 months

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my opinions on the disventure camp all stars redesigns

Side note i physically cannot watch s2 without being so uncomfortable with the animation style but i think ik about it enough to give my ideas

Also ratings are for the redesigns and how good they are to me

!Trigger warning !

i am unfortunately pansexual and i want to kiss every single one of these redesigns 😔(excluding fiore, thank you to the person in the replies i forgot to clear that up omg)

-love the light red stripe and large bow, though i think blue suits gabby more i thinks its cute 9/10

Ok this is one of the best redesigns in my opinion I love her coat, shes hot, I WANT TO KISS HER 10/10

i think i prefered the old hair better but, who cares pop off James, our absolute king ! 5/10

THEY FIXED HIS SKIN THANK GOD

AND HIS STUPID ASS BOWLCUT new hairstyle lookin FRESHHHHG YUL! 10/10

litteraly nothing changed abt him but hes still hot 1/10 (again i have not watched s2 but im so scared they'll break up huntessally we need that poly rep and silliness!)

Um I LOVE HER HAIR SHE REALLY DOES GIVE A PAINTER/ARTISTIC FEEL and i love her bun 8/10

Her design is still kinda meh to me, but i love her ponytail 7/10

i kinda wish his hair was more fluffy but idc live laugh AIDEN 7/10

GRETT IS BEAUTIFUL, SHE WAS ALWAYS BEAUTIFUL AND IM TIRED OF PRETENDING SHES NOT OK 1000/10

Im curious abt her weight loss storyline that they mentioned when they released her official design, and she seems happier :]

OLIVER! THE SILLY! PRAYING FOR MORE JUSTICE TO THIS MAN 7/10 i miss his green uniform though, wonder what a beige one means?

(Side note I had an oc named oliver who looked similar to him so it caught me off guard when they revealed his name)

Saved the best for last:

THE VEST AND THE PONYTAIL DUDE SHE IS LITTERALY DRESSED LIKE ALEC💞💞💞 I WANNA THROW AN AXE AT HER HEAD I LOVE FIORE! 12/10

TOM TOM TOM TOM TOM TOM TOM TOM TOM TOM

TOM SWEEP

I HEART TOM

BARK BARK BARK BARK

JAKE BETTER STEP OFFF

Ok thats (not) enough me going insane over tom, i love him i wish i could kiss this man I LOVE HIS CASUAL FIT TJOUGH IT SUITS HIM 10000/10

(Ignore the image below)

DADDY??? SORRY DADDY SORRY

You will never see me publicly annoucing me simping for characters bc im scared of my irl friends making fun of me 💀 but Alec,Tom and Riya had me going through a character arc where idc anymore :]

Anyways i see the divorce didnt go so well huh...

If your looking for a wife im pretty sure Nick is single

I NEED TO SEE HIM MAKE UP WITJ FIORE AND HAVE HALF THE SEASON OF THEM BEING EVIL SILLIES

i miss his blue vest though storywise I 100% see why they designed him like this to show its been difficult for him, cant wait for alec angst or him just going batshit insane :3 7/10

Tom vs Alec final 2 plsss????

#Can you tell i like tom and alec???#i love them a normal amount #<- LIES #disventure camp #disventure camp all stars #disventure camp gabby #disventure camp riya #disventure camp james #disventure camp yul #disventure camp hunter #disventure camp tess #disventure camp ally #disventure camp aiden #Disventure camp grett #Disventure camp oliver #disventure camp fiore #disventure camp tom #disventure camp alec

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blueberry-bubbles130 · 2 months

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So because I cannot help myself. Here’s another Chloe-centric miraculous au.

Hawkmoth here actually has some brain cells. And his motivation for Miracle Queen changes. So he wants to test how the broken peacock miraculous works with another miraculous and akumatisation. He still akumatises Audrey and Andre to distract Ladybug, Chat Noir and Ryouko while he essentially blackmails and forces Chloe into becoming Miracle Queen. However he akumatises her, as well as having her unify the peacock and bee miraculous. And then have her take on Ladybug and Chat Noir alone. As apart of the blackmail, he tells Chloe he’ll only let her parents go, until after fighting Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Spoilers, this goes horribly wrong.

The peacock miraculous, which in this au simply kills people because it emits far too much magic when broken, is pushed too far with the unification with the bee and the akuma. So it explodes magic, while Chloe was wearing it. This causes a massive blast, injuring and changing Chloe, while momentarily stunning Hawkmoth, Ladybug and Chat Noir. Hawkmoth gets the peacock back and now knows he has to fix it to work properly and Ladybug and Chat Noir get the miraculous back. Apart from the bee, because Pollen goes with Chloe, as Chloe runs away.

As a result of this, only Hawkmoth, Ladybug, Chat Noir, Natalie and Chloe knows what happened that day. So because Chloe ran away for what seemed like no good reason to everyone else in Paris and no one knows where she is, Audrey and Andre are really worried. But out of the people who do know, no one is telling them anything. Even Ladybug and Chat Noir.

A side effect of having the peacock blowing up in her face, is that Chloe sort of gets the powers from it without needing the miraculous. At the cost of her physical appearance change.

Felix eventually shows up and seeks out Chloe finding her, and she tells him what happened. They make a deal where he’ll help Chloe get revenge on Ladybug, Chat Noir and Hawkmoth, and inform her of what’s happening with her parents. And Chloe will help Felix get the twin rings back, and figure out what happened to Emeilie and who Hawkmoth is. So Chloe gives Felix the bee, so he can go out and fight to see what’s happening. They form their own morally grey team because they have their own goals but don’t go attacking people. They also fall in love with each other.

Eventually Hawkmoth, because he has some brain cells here, ends up one step ahead of Ladybug and Chat Noir and figures out this has some connection to Chloe. So he starts attacking Audrey and Andre, mainly Audrey to lure Chloe out.

An important note here is that Adrien, Felix and Kagami aren’t sentimonsters.

Also the Heart Hunter akuma is being redesigned and rewritten to suit Hawkmoth’s new motivation, a reason as to why no one else knows what happened that day, and to still keep in Ladybug’s hypocrisy with letting the other temporary holders use their miraculous.

Here’s a shitty little comic thing I made about Felix and Chloe.

#miraculous ladybug #chloe bourgeois #felix graham de vanily #ml fanart #mlb fanart #miraculous au #miraculous fanart #ml au #miraculous fanfiction #miraculous ladybug au #Phantom Princess Chloe au

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skyistheground · 2 months

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Found here through the one Inscryption animatic!

Could you tell more about that AU?

sure thing! i don't develop it much right now but i am really glad you took interest in an old project!

the au is essentially P03 took his charicatures. ocs. uberbot personality matricies and built them bodies to help out around the factory. it was very self indulgent. i also made an au of an au relating to the old data with them (which was slightly implied in that animatic but not a lot)

(the art is a bit old forgive me)

this is the only image i have of them together that isn't whiteboard doodles. i will go from left to right

curator/the archivist

as the title implies. manages the archives. has a lot of busywork and responsibility. the archives is a big room where everything is represented by a file. it's a computer library in physical form

all the responsibility makes them seem like the most calm/patient and.. kinda? it's more that they are good at hiding when they are frustrated. already has a pretty big managerial role with the librarians so will check in on everyone else's work

nexus/g0lly

collects things from the internet, works closely with curator. the glowy bits are projections, including the arm (where the crank would be... opposies w/ p03. it doesn't work btw). the wheel is optional and she can extend it back to float but doesn't because that's less fun. i forgot exactly where the scratch came from?

she has the vibe of p03's younger teenage sister (it did this to himself) and is very whimsical. she doesn't really bother him that much, more afraid of upsetting him than anything. more often bothers the other bots with random things she finds

kodak/the photographer

manages the factory's security system. all of the cameras are his eyes he can tab between. he is also part furnace and can run on biofuel. likes to leave the factory from time to time to go on walks. he cannot float like the first two but walks around on tripod legs

prefers to keep to himself most of the time. he does his job and then takes his breaks walking around in the projector woods. wants to go to the real woods some day but that requires either crossing an ocean or everyone seeing you and how you're clearly not supposed to be there

sketch/unfinished

robot project that p03 started but never finished. it did have an intended job but i honestly forgot. mute/blind unless given a face by someone else. i remembered wanting to redesign it but as it exists now, the cables attach to the ceiling and there's only designated spots it can run around. body is pretty frail (compared to the other bots. it's still metal) so the others are careful

acts animalistic and strange until given a face. then mirrors the personality of whoever it can follow around. it slowly learns over time and one day will have its own personality

the au with the old data i mentioned has to do with my oc k. who is the old data that got pissed p03 backed out of uploading it to the internet so took him over to do it themselves. took over during the unfinished boss fight (in this au not like the actual uberbots themselves did the game thing. since p03 wanted to do that himself) but the takeover was known and alerted for. the exact details of this version of the au are lost on me but here is k as p03

and k as k once they lost (because they were still stopped) and became a permanent addition to inscryption world because they couldn't lose the consciousness she gave himself after possessing a sentient character (yay newer art)

#asks #do i even tag.... anything #kverse #i haven't used that in forever #inscryption #why not for sorting purposes #it felt good to talk about them again even if i don't remember everything

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chalkrevelations · 5 months

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Something that already strikes me about audience response to Day's family in Last Twilight is the amount of anger and shaming language I'm seeing directed at them, and what I keep thinking is that Day is not Heart.

Sure, it may turn out that Ramon and Night have hidden what happened to Day because they're ashamed or don't know how to deal with it, that they're the ones who imposed the "abroad in the US" cover story, that despite seeing Aon use his cane when he comes over and Day lights up like he never does at any other time, they just haven't bothered to get Day a cane to help him maneuver the world. But we don't know any of that, yet, and I'm going to suggest that assuming all of those things infantilizes Day in much the same way that people keep pointing out his family doing, by making him a victim of his family's behavior instead of accepting that a lot of his isolation is self-imposed. No, his family isn't doing things perfectly (redesign your kitchen for function instead of form, when even sighted people are stubbing their toes, for god's sake), but why automatically assume his family did all that to him instead of assuming that Day, himself, did those things, or at least had a hand in them?

What we know at this point is that nobody except Day, himself, shut him up in his bedroom like a hermit and demanded that food be left at his closed door so that he didn't have to interact with anyone, even his family. And once he's made up his mind about that, there's only so much persuasion and so much coaxing and so much fight you can have with a grownass person when they've decided they're not going to do a thing. If Day is going to refuse to come out of his room, he's not five years old, and they can't drag him out - physically cannot, I mean, not without someone getting hurt, plus that's also assault. (The discussion of five-year-old autonomy, when they actually are small enough to pick up, is for another time.) And then try to repair the relationship after you've done something like that. Mork tricks Day out of his room with the fish tank gambit and finds ways to keep tricking him to stay out of it. Nobody has (figuratively) locked Day in his room the way Heart was; Day has walled himself off.

So, I'm wiling to wait to hear if Night and Mom have just decided to tell everyone Day's abroad to hide what's happened to him, or if Day was involved in that cover story, if Day has used that to hide himself away and avoid having to talk to former friends and acquaintances in this new state of perceived vulnerability. And if we never hear for sure, I'm willing to not just assume that this was something imposed on Day against his will, based on what we've seen and learned about Day so far. He has enough internalized shame to do it, himself. When he gets his cornea transplant, he tells Night in Ep 1 - and it sounds like he expects it to happen fairly soon, and he probably expects that a lot of things will go back to normal then, and that this will all be a bad dream, so why not treat this entire time as some sort of liminal space, a time out of time, away from everyone and everything, and never let them see him like this? Why not just go back when he's himself, again?

When he wants to, Day is perfectly capable of pushing back against people who he's absolutely smart enough to know are infantilizing him, from his bratty behavior in the caretaker interviews, to the way he's apparently gotten rid of several caretakers in the past, to the "fuck you" of following Night into the Shining Institute instead of staying in the car. If my dude wanted a cane to help him maneuver, he would have one. Until they prove it to me that he doesn't already have one, tbqh I'm going to suspect that he does, and that he shoved it in the back of a drawer and buried it with other stuff - if he didn't break it over his knee and throw it in the trash. Do you think Mom isn't going to give Day whatever he wants? Day's mother may not be doing everything perfectly, but she is not Heart's mother. And anyway, he's a grownass person with a phone and a computer he's able to use, why are we assuming that Day can't get online and order a cane for his own self, instead of waiting for his family to do it for him? He could get Aon's help, if he needed help with it.

#day (lt)#morkday #last twilight #last twilight the series #and tangentially #heart (mc)#moonlight chicken

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smiles-ocs · 4 months

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Some concepts and ideas for Castor and Ronan’s story called Starchild. Some of these are… hard to get to drawing, specifically Ronan’s younger siblings, might redesign them, but they’re all very young. Ronan left to join a crew so he could make money for them while his parents physically can’t work, and he made sure that his 12-year-old brother is very helpful. Then some random character ideas. A first mate on Castor’s pirate crew, two important characters named Rigel and Esther, castor as a young boy, and random scene ideas I have.

There’s a lot of crap I’m rambling about under the cut so go there if you want to know more about the characters, lore, and spoilers

I also have an idea of a deity or something of the sorts. It’s bascially a “Star God”, something with incredible power that was given to them from the heavens, and it is responsible for the starchildren that have shown up around the world, hence why this series is called Starchild. The whole thing around the Star God is a mystery, but people do know it exists thanks to the star children. This is a little dark but some explanation on Starchildren:

Starchildren are born every few hundred years or so, it’s unknown how often a starchild is born, but people believe that starchildren are the star god’s children, and that when they reach a certain age, they are sacrificed to deal with all the problems the world is having. They believe that if a starchild is not sacrificed, demons from hell will arrive to destroy the world. I hinted at this on my last post, but starchildren turn into strange creatures, the main one being the Leviathan. There’s also the Kraken and the other one who’s name is so complicated I’m not even going to bother with it dhskdbsk.

Long story short, the whole thing is a lie. Starchildren have incredible power when they become adults and are “awakened” as Starchildren. They remember the person that gave them that power (the Star God) and their purpose, which is watching over the people. However, centuries ago, someone in high power believed that Star children were too powerful, and out of fear, he came up with an excuse to kill starchildren before they grew too powerful, because no one should be more powerful than him. So they killed starchildren when they were young and weak, hiding behind the excuse of it being a sacrifice to the world or something, using the blood to cleanse the world and keep the demons at bay. That way, if the starchildren escape, and inevitably take on the role of “deities”, people will believe that the demons have arrived to punish them for failing, and will try to kill the awakened starchildren.

Starchildren cannot escape their fate, however, because they cannot hide unless they are far away from people. They have blue hair that shines in the darkest fog, blue hair that cannot be hidden, and a star birthmark somewhere.

I suppose there’s no reason to hide this now, but Castor is the starchild of this era, originally called Orion, but he changed his name for safety. He ran away when he learned that he was going to die, trying to escape on a boat. The people almost caught him, but the kraken appeared, seemingly saving his life. As Castor tried to hide from people, he tried to hide his blue hair, but it constantly shines through whatever he hid it in. The best he could do was to wrap it up and put a thick hat on, which helped, but even so, you can see in his wrapping the blue hair. He tried to dye it, hide it in mud, even shaving it, but the blue cannot be covered up, so hiding in plain sight was nearly impossible to him. He left to sea to avoid people, but accidentally became captain of the pirate crew. He’s a very jaded man who is intimidating and skilled in sword fighting. People respect him as a captain, so he is in high status on his ship (obviously 💀). Problem is, there is a very, VERY high bounty on the star child’s head, so even the most loyal crew members may turn on him if he is found out.

Castor trusts no one, but he seems to have a soft spot for Ronan for some reason. Even when he eventually finds out that he is the starchild, he can’t bring himself to kill him. He’s just a boy…

Obviously, Esther and Rigel are starchildren as well. Rigel is an ancient starchild, who lived a good life before the starchildren sacrifices. He roams the ocean, punishing anyone who threatens the innocent or disrespects the ocean. There were a lot of starchildren too, but the creatures of starchildren were hunted and killed, leaving Rigel, Esther, and Castor the last three starchildren. Esther was a starchild who escaped the sacrifice, who is far more cruel and jaded than Castor, and when Castor is “awakened”, she goes after him to use him to punish everyone.

Rigel is that turtle Whale island thing, Esther is the kraken, and Castor turns into the Leviathan.

The star god is no benevolent being, and is not a god at all. He’s a regular human who got magic from some meteorite, idk, there doesn’t need to be any specifics lol, and he grew immensely powerful. He resides away from the ocean, but he is not a good person. He’s greedy, selfish, and does nothing to help the innocent starchildren he “created”. He would love to have the starchildren to do his bidding, but if they die, it’s no matter, cuz he doesn’t need them. Idk maybe he’s not greedy lol. Either way the star god is not a good person, but I kinda want the star god’s role to be similar to Davy Jones in pirates of the Caribbean. There must always be a star god.

Anyways I hope that all makes sense 💀💀 Ronan is just there, being roped up into this nonsense, but he’s a good boy with a good heart and wants to help the starchildren, and he and Castor grow close.

#this was supposed to be a simple post but I DUMPED all that lore on you lol #I mean… at least the lore is easy to explain #unlike Clover’s story good GRIEF #my brother asked why his story is called ‘golden clover’ and I couldn’t begin to explain it 💀💀💀#it’s so complex #but I’m proud of it #this story is easier to explain tho and I like it a lot!#I felt weird combining the ocean and stars together #but idk they’re kinda connected in a way you know?#space and the ocean are very mysterious and unexplored #but space is more explored and more safe to travel through lol #but regardless there’s a lot of similarities between the two so maybe it’s not weird to combine them #poor Ronan will struggle through a moral dilemma through a lot of this #Esther is an interesting character so I’m hoping to explore her more #ocs #original characters #starchild

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dapperinsanity · 5 months

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Hazbin Hotel: Alastor Redesigned!

Here we have Alastor, a radio host and former hunter! I decided to keep the deer element for one reason and that would be my first impression of the original Al. He is not inspired by a well-known creature in native-american culture. Although, I assumed the original was said creature, I decided to throw any traits that would make people assume that he is said creature. Why did I keep the deer part? Well, when I first saw the original the only reason I assumed Alastor was a deer in the afterlife was because he was cursed to be one as he is a hunter. I don’t know the actual story for the original but I liked the idea that he was cursed to be a deer because of being a hunter. It’s his punishment. Anyways, being a hunter was a big part of his life and he would often murder other hunters in the forest for the fun of it. It started with hunters he was in competition with then as time went on, any human was fair game to him. He doesn’t eat them because I saw no reason to keep the cannibal trait the original has. Instead, he just buries the bodies near his secluded home and likes to keep specific parts of the body or anything on the person as a trophy to put on his wall.

My redesign Al cannot shape-shift and this is how he normally looks. Despite me throwing away his original trait of voodoo magic, all demons in hell have some sort of powers/abilities. One of his powers includes the ability to talk to other citizens of hell without having to show up in person. The said victim would still see him, he is just not physically present. He can talk through any radio no matter how old or modern it is. Alastor can still make deals but this was a power granted by Lucifer himself. While I’m still expanding on this idea, Alastor can conjure up a “physical” contract for a person to sign. (Think of Disney’s Ursula)

While the following may not be magical powers, Alastor is a mastermind of manipulation and deception. This trait was something he had when he was living as he uses it strategically. It’s part of the reason why he has such a high status in hell as he uses these traits to become more powerful. He makes deals with anyone, including humans and angels as his contracts are binding which means that anyone that signs one is obligated/forced to serve him. While he enjoys ruining someone’s life and deceiving others, he craves control and power which is the main motivation for his actions.

Lastly, the reason I added an x on his forehead and replaced the irises with x’s is due to the fact that he shot himself after he was caught murdering in his lifetime. This wasn’t done out of depression and regret as it was done out of pride/ego.

#art #my art #Adam’s art #digital art #digital aritst #beginner artist #beginner’s art #artwork #artist #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel redesign #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #redesign #character redesign #character design

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kiraisrika · 1 month

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Hazbin Hotel: Trace The primal Light 2/3

Finally its here!!!

Link to part 1 : xxx

Link to redesign poll ; xxx

Lets talk about Villains

In HH season 1 the big bad villain is Adam and well...lets just say he serve his purpose...not in a good way tho

I know, yes, HH tone fits with his characterization but i have more expectation for the big bad of HH. In my eyes and partly because of my own religion, i would expect him to be more of a fatherly type, and its just doesn't make sense that he enjoyed the extermination this much considering the sinners is his children. I would assume he would be the type that is forced to that pedestal because he believe its for the greater good.

- And then i have the idea, how about instead of Adam, his son is the villain? Cain, the first murderer, the father of evil its just so fitting, he is after all the first human who spilled blood on earth.

In my rewrite Cain is the Villain, the big bad, the perfect contrast to Charlie.

Cain is a sinner no doubt, but because of the forgiveness of Abel he is able to rise to heaven and "Cleansed" all and all he's a total hypocrite. He is the one who pitched the idea od extermination believing that it will protect heaven in an extent, himself.

Cain is someone who held beauty in high regard, he believes heaven is beautiful and sinners are not, it can threaten the baeuty of heaven and he cannot allow that.

He often calculate others move silently, thinking of every possibility and because of this he is an excellent fighter. His only concern can be split to 3 parts;

1. Will this benefit me?

2. Is this thing/person will get in my way?

3. Will this bite me in the back later?

He has affection, ofcourse but its so far in between.

He is everything that Charlie's not, he is selfish, hypocritical, pessimistic and manipulative.

And so, that concludes the big bad of the show what about other villains?

- Lute is what you call the villains right hand man, she truly believes that angels cannot do anything wrong, if it were it must be for "The greater Good" she don't Follow cain blindly no no no, she believed that what's he's doing is for the grester good, and so she follows him.

- Vox, unlike the original IS Alastor REAL rival.

Alastor and Lucifer isn't as involved as the original, Lucifer doesn't trust Alastor yes, because of how unexpected he is and he doesn't like the fact a man like him is near his daughter. With the surge of the internet and introduction of modern technology in hell, it safe to assume that Alastor if anything at all will atleast be wary of Vox, him being the one who have dominion over the new rise of technology means that it will overshadow his old timey Radio.

They have a real rivalry, trying to one-up each other in every way possible, Alastor is as invested in this as Vox is

OG Vox could never

- Valentino in my rewrite is more serious, he is more like a spider than angel dust is, he will not be afraid to use physical or psychological torture to torment his victims.

He gets in Angel's head alot, he will gaslight and guilt trip Angel to do his bidding, his only concern is money and power.

because he has Velvette and Vox on his side, He nearly Has every information in the pride ring and that's how he trapped his victim inside his grip.

If anything were to happen, its okay, he has control over hells information network, and he intented to use it anyway

Season 1 episode 9

As i promised you, its finally here

Episode 9 as i was saying is the prolog episode that will lay out season 2 and tease possible theories.

Season 1 ending with the hotel gaining traction, and getting more popular. But not with a slight hiccup, Cain and Abel founds out, Abel is delighted by this this can possibly be another way to control hell's overpopulation with less blood to be spilled while Cain is concerned and stressed, an unexpected variable has come in his way, and he intend to get rid of it.

In the end episode 8 he planted a bug down down to hell, to where the hotel is, trying to spy inside the hotel.

In episode 9, with the hotel gaining more popularity each time the main cast works together to handle the customers, including Sir pentious and in the end they have a celebration surprised party for Charlie because she has worked so hard.

In the party they have fun, and Sir pentious watches silently while smiling, he has finally found his comfort place a place where he shouldn't act "Evil" for the sake of attention because he was finally enough.

But suddenly a smoke emerge from the party scene, Vaggie immediately took a stance, Alastor grabbed his microphone all the cast present freezed.

It all happened too fast.

The bug appeared, lifting Pentious to the air and stabbed him with it's sting he can only say "i'm sorr-" before he was cut off with a deeper stab that choke him.

The bug disappeared, leaving the heavily injured Pentious to fall, Charlie immediately runs to catch him, but before she can even touch him his flesh, skin, everything turned into that of a rose petal.

The cinematic shot pans over the kneeling Charlie, the cast, the countless roses petal that covering the entire floor, only leaving his hat and clothes to spare.

And Vaggie recognized that all too well.

The screen cuts off and slowly a calming humming sound can be heard.

The scene switched to a man sitting down in front of a table and caressing a single rose, its all a dramatic tonal whiplash from the scene earlier, this scene seems bright, light coming in clearly through the window, showing the beautiful golden hour, cinematic shot showing besides him a single vase with 6 roses i. It.

The humming stopped, he bought the flower in front of face, revealing the man's eyes but not his identity.

"Rose petals look so much prettier when its removed from it's thorny stems don't you think?" that man say seemingly to told no one else but himself.

Then, footsteps can be heard from outside that room, and then a voice rang "Cain, are you ready yet?" revealing the man's identity.

The man's grip tightened around the rose, breaking apart the petals from it's thorny stem, and he leave petals falling softly to the table, saying "yes, wait a minute"

The camera still focuses to the petals as door closing can be heard offscreen, then the camera pans out slowly, showing the table, the chair, and the vase ontop of it, containing 6 roses left.

A single rose petal drop down to the floor and the episode ends.

Cain and Vaggie

Now with episode 9 finally out of the way lets talk about Vaggie more in depth now.

I already covered most of what i dislike about Vaggie in my part 1 post so lets get straight to the point.

I wanted Vaggie to be more involved with the narrative without Charlie and actually have a character outside of being Charlie's girlfriend.

Vaggie once named Valitas, is Cain's favourite disciple. Cain took her under his wings since childhood and train her how to fight, Valitas respected Cain alot and admired him, and Valitas is one of the few people Cain actually cares about.

So when Valitas "betrayed" Cain, Cain draw an X with her own spear to her left eye and blinded her. Cain is hurt, Vaggie is hurt.

Vaggie always had a dream of that night, or her memories of training and sparring with Cain

Despite the calming tone of the dream, she will always woke up gasping and screaming.

This will be finalized in season 2! I will talk about it in part 3!!

Oh and btw feel free to give me ideas for the guests or even Cain and Abel, because i havent settled on Their designs yet

#kira rambles #hazbin hotel rewrite #hazbin hotel critique #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #Hazbin hotel: trace the primal light au #Not supporting vivziepop

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willows-arts · 1 year

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I've finally started redesigning the robot masters in my own style. Here's Shadow!

For those of you who don't know, my Shadow is a little unique compared to in the games and in Megamix. For one, he's not an alien. I did away with that completely. He also cannot merge into the shadows, and he does not have his blades tipped with poison. Rather, he's an expansion on Wily's studies with electromagnetic waves through Magnet and Gemini, this time focusing on the reflection of light. As a result, the surface of Shadow's armor is comprised of many tiny little mirrors that can all individually adjust to reflect light, thus giving Shadow the potential to render himself invisible to the eye through the bending of light.

This does come with the cost of him being both very delicate and very expensive to repair, so he avoids physical confrontations as much as possible; he's far better adapted to silent ambushes and assassinations, after all.

#Willow Arts #megaman #mega man #rockman #shadow man #shadowman #if you have any questions pls ask!! i love questions teehee #Willow Rambles #mm hcs

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ambrosethedarling · 7 months

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I would love to hear your thoughts behind the new tattoo you gave Jason! (I also wasn't a fan of the other one)

You 🤝🏼 Me

Hating that old design

But yes absolutely I can! It’ll all be under the cut because I’ve got a LOT to say about the design and lore of the swords

To start with the thought behind my original design was that the tattoos would disappear when the swords were summoned meaning that the tattoos weren’t just tattoo but the actual swords. A cool concept but my execution was NOT it and it’s just not my vibe.

I went back after that first design and looked through everything we know about the All-Blades for my redesign and this is all the information we get.

The blades are mystical and made of copper

Designed to kill magical beings and cannot harm anything else

Can only be summoned in the presence of absolute evil

Are powered by the wielder’s soul and blood

Can be summoned at will

Multiple swords and blades can be summoned depending on how much soul the wielder has

Some of this I liked, such as being powered by the user’s life essence, and some not so much, like only being summoned in ‘Absolute Evil’. Boringgggg and also limiting. So I made my own lore for a new design.

I wanted to lean heavy into the soul and blood aspect so the tattoos are a deep red brown like dried blood, and wrap around both wrists and his left arm in organic flowing lines. There are points on his finger, wrist, and chest that are highlighted with a little circle target design and those are actually acupuncture points that link directly back to the heart.

The only inorganic element are the solid bars that wrap around both wrists and they’re to represent the fact that the Blades are tied to Jason and him to them. They’re quite literally cuffs he cannot remove.

The cross guards are copper and the stone used as the pommel is a Bloodstone, also known as Heliotrope, which aside from being pretty are said to increase courage and motivation and benefit endurance along with physical strength.

My own lore of the Blades is this:

The All-Blades are powered by his soul and blood [and can be directly pulled from his own blood] though summoning too frequently will leave Jason weak and light headed as the blades draw the copper from his blood.

The blade portion of the sword is a solid manifestation of his soul [similar to Lantern constructs] and are warm to the touch. Depending on how much ‘soul’ he’s got, the sharper the blades will be.

Both the Blades and tattoos will glow when used or Jason is using magic, and hum and pulse softly to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

The Blades are able to harm magical and non-magical beings alike, though cannot harm Jason.

They can be ‘broken’ and will disappear when shattered. This hurts Jason and, depending on the severity, can manifest as a physical wound on his body.

It takes concentration and magical energy for him to maintain the Blades in physical form for extended periods of time and will get smaller as his energy tires out before disappearing.

He only has two Blades, they can change shape, design, and size and can be summoned together or individually.

#I absolutely love talking about lore #and making things up for Jason’s magic #it’s so underutilized #and can be so cool #I love it so much #magic Jason for the win #dc comics #jason todd #red hood #dc all caste #dc all blades #ambrose ask #ambrose talks #a lot lmao

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olet-lucernam · 3 months

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A Hollow Promise [20] chapter v, part i

main tags : loki x original character, post-avengers 2012, canon divergence - post-thor: the dark world, canon-typical violence, mentions of torture

summary: In the aftermath of the Battle of New York, the Avengers need a few days to build a transport device for the Tesseract. With the Helicarrier damaged and surveillance offline, SHIELD sends an asset to guard Loki in the interim: a young woman who sees the truth in all things, and cannot lie.

Even long presumed dead, her memories lost to her, Loki would know her anywhere.

And this changes things.

Some things last beyond infinity. And the universe is in love with chaos.

(Loki was never looking for redemption. It came as an unexpected side-effect.)

chapter summary : despite his chains, loki begins gathering his pieces on the board. astrid works on escaping her own confines, and mitigating the damage of disasters to come.

recommended listening : no place like home, todrick hall

[PREVIOUS] | [MASTERLIST] | [NEXT]

The solitary cell was deep underground, far below expansive cerulean skies and the firelit gold of the palace halls, in deepest wing of the dungeons.

Loki supposed he ought to be flattered.

It had long since fallen into obsolescence, disuse, and disrepair, contrasted against the cells shelved several staircases above it- a well-lit, refitted sector of the dungeons that Loki himself had headed the redesigns for, only a few centuries ago.

Oh, the irony, he had acknowledged with a smirk as the Einherjar escorted him past the bright rows, smooth-cornered and minimalist and cold as carved ice within a hallway of black stone. Each chamber was faced with the slow-rippling sheen of a containment field, the weft of it as tight as a seine net, its meticulous smooth-locked gears bearing Loki’s signature style, obvious to any mage skilled enough to realise that there was a difference.

Time and age may have begun to dull the Allfather’s edge at last, but Odin was still too proud and too cautious to store Loki, untried, on display amongst the common rabble- and least of all in a prison that was reliant upon magic that Loki had custom-engineered. Not only could he easily escape, he might unleash the other inmates as a distraction, or just for the fun of the ensuing chaos.

Loki could admit that the thought was deeply tempting.

It would take time, for Odin to decide his strategy and settle upon the sentence pre-emptive to the trial- using supposed exceptional circumstance and royal authority to override that of Glintir, Asgard’s delegated halls of justice- and more to strip down and renovate one of the cells to contain him. A few months, at the barest minimum. Perhaps less, if his mother was involved in the process; perhaps more, if Odin was in a particularly paranoid or vindictive humour.

In the interim, his current lodgings were the one place best equipped to contain him.

Despite surface appearance, the stone walls and oaken doors and rusted iron fittings were steeped in old magic- old protections- drawing from the core of Asgard itself to keep itself strong despite the physical decay. The unevenly-hewn cells had been hollowed out near the very roots of the realm, cloistered against ley lines and veins of unstable ore, the stagnant air thick with wild mana; it set Loki’s nerves sparking, its taste similar to the thrum of the Bifrost, but unfiltered, flowing directionlessly like water swirled in a pail, knocking against the sides and swilling back into itself.

Beyond it-

Loki ran his thumb across the valley of his palm.

The maelstrom of mana was like the wash of daylight over the stars- rinsing out any lesser source of power like bleach. It was part of the reason, he assumed, as to why Odin had ordered to have him thrown in such scarcely used accommodations, using the cell’s unique conditions to overwhelm his carefully honed sense of ambient magic, and prevent him from perceiving or tampering with anything that laid beyond his cell.

Yet, the logic only applied to lesser sources of power.

Even the might of Asgard was nothing to an Infinity Stone, even one disguised and sealed in a lesser form.

Clear as a beacon, singing through him and lingering like the soft metallic ring of a struck tuning fork, Loki could feel the sheer potential energy of the Tesseract even as the gaol door was bolted behind him. In fact- turning his head towards the ceiling, a few degrees above and across from the cell door- Loki was almost certain that he could guess its precise location within the Vault.

He would not have thought much of it, were it not for the fact that he could feel it reaching into the cell, intangible currents swirling in to greet him. Since returning to Asgard, it had become a constant presence, a companion in the dark.

His eyebrows twitched contemplatively, as he wound the Tesseract’s energy around his fingers, and sent a shimmer of his mana brushing against its edges.

The Tesseract glimmered back against him amiably, playing into their wordless game of call-and-response as it drifted, omnipresent and aimless and eldritch in the manner of gravity wells and hydrogen clouds.

Odd. It was odd.

The Tesseract wanted to help me- wanted me to find you- and it responded to you, when you asked it to open the way to Earth –

Astrid was right, as ever.

Even at the time, and more recently with the benefits of a clearer head and the absence of the Black Order monitoring his every thought, Loki could appreciate how unnaturally easy it had been to open the portal. When he had reached out through the Sceptre, hooking into Selvig as an established conduit, experimentally tapping at the Tesseract, Loki had felt its attention swing towards him- effortlessly piercing past and through Selvig’s flesh and the lightyears of space to alight upon him, considering him with what felt akin to mild disinterest.

Then it rippled, as though in reaction to him- and spat a mouthful of energy from within its titanium cradle, setting the PEGASUS scientists scattering into coordinated action, searching for the root of the anomaly.

Loki hadn’t questioned it. Only the naïve and the omnipotent refused the advantage. And besides which, it was a fool’s errand to attempt to understand why the Tesseract had behaved, as Selvig had so elegantly phrased it. It was not quite sentience in the way that most sapient lifeforms would comprehend it but- from experience, Loki knew that the greater an artifact’s age, the more likely it was to possess opinions; and the greater its power, the more unknowable those opinions tended to be, and hence its behaviour more unpredictable.

Applying that same logic to an Infinity Stone- a remnant of the universe’s creation, a concentrated ingot of one of the essential, esoteric forces that underpinned the very fabric of existence, an extant piece of the demiurge itself- and Loki had quickly concluded that there was nothing to be gained from wondering why.

And yet.

I suppose you must not be overeager to be in Thanos’ grasp, he mused in its direction. Or perhaps you’re simply fond of Astrid. Either way, I can entirely sympathise.

The Tesseract sheened back at him.

Loki quirked a slight smile.

He had, however, noticed something odd.

A tendril of the Tesseract’s power steadily tapered downwards- several layers of strata below his cell, to where there should be nothing but inert bedrock.

With nothing else to occupy his time and increasingly restless mind, Loki had begun whittling at a method to borrow and coast on the Tesseract’s power, imbuing it with his own magic until he could glimpse through it. In theory, the restrictions of space should be nothing to the Space Stone itself- and after investigating what had attracted it to one of the least interesting sectors of Asgard’s foundations, it would be useful for his other schemes amongst the Nine in the coming months.

It could have been worse, Loki supposed. He had experienced worse. And the quiet gave him space to think.

Loki held fast to the thought, keeping a firm grip. Staring at the dark walls of his cell, he could almost taste the buzz of the silence in his teeth, a held breath like the artificial hush of a theatre as the drama played out onstage. It sat within him as though he had swallowed a bulb of glass, and was left waiting to see if it would break under the pressure of his throat.

Fine. It was fine. He had free reign of his magic within his cell, and the vague favour of the Tesseract, and the freedom to think, even if he could feel the jagged pieces of himself shifting against each other, disjointed, his mind still split and frayed at the edges despite Astrid driving out the lingering influenced and dosing him with her own mana to give him time to heal, it was fine, he wasn’t there anymore, he needed to be hale and whole in order to drive off what was coming, everything was fine and even if it wasn’t he would never let them see it-

Loki felt a warmth bloom against his spine, just behind his heart.

He startled, like the whip of a livewire sparking off, instinctively careening back and lashing out against other, other, not again-

The slow press of a presence seeped through the spell embroidered into him, warming him through like an orchestra tuning before a symphony- resolving from blank heat into pattern and form, detailed as lacework.

It was golden- the very essence of gold, bright as hot metal, alive in the manner of hydrogen clouds- rippling into satin lustre, dissolving into powder-fine glitter, coalescing into smooth candlelight, diffusing into dappled daylight.

It hit him like sunshine striking through a glacier, shattering kaleidoscopic against his insides.

Oh.

The connection was weak, wavering. Through it, Loki could only discern a watercolour haze of emotion and surface thoughts, like the flit of shadows behind a curtain of finely-spun gauze- the link too new, nothing more than a single hastily-anchored thread, stretched too thin by the immense physical distance and the decomposing magic contaminating her, to convey anything more coherent.

Still, Loki felt the relief melt through him, the intimate press of another mind against his both foreign and familiar, a welcome anathema, a guest rather than an invasion.

With a practiced twist of his wrist, Loki threw up a screen against Heimdall’s gaze.

“Hello, darling,” he murmured into the cell’s quiet. “Have you missed me terribly?”

The warmth stilled.

Loki could sense a current of realisation within it, gently whorling together and condensing.

A solar-flare burst of mana surged within the connection- slamming against its limitations, pouring in power, attempting to pry the connection open- and Loki winced against the shock.

“Steady, dove,” he grunted out quietly, letting the words taper into a fond laugh. “The link isn’t strong enough just yet, and there is no forcing it along- have a little patience, darling. It will strengthen, with time.”

It had stilled at his entreaty, reluctantly withdrawing, but Loki could discern the hesitation-frustration-question-impatience-want lingering in it.

He smiled faintly, massaging the aftershock-ache out of his chest.

“You must have known its purpose, when I wove it. I had to have a way to find you again,” he explained in a murmur. “As a side effect- while you sleep, your mind will come to me. And when I sleep, I will dream in you.”

The warmth rippled faintly, tentatively pressing a few degrees closer, pausing at the tremulous point before it overstressed the fragile link.

Loki had the simultaneous sensation of staring out at a mist-shrouded figure on the other end of a long, treacherously narrow rope bridge, suspended above the sheer drop of the abyss- and of someone gently resting their chin on his shoulder from behind, reading something over his shoulder, a slight weight leaning in against the backrest of his chair.

The nebulous gesture haemorrhaged affection, and casual determination.

Loki laughed into the dark, his dark head lifting.

It tasted of revenge, only sweeter.

Yes. Everything would be fine.

“I have a question.”

“Mn.”

The noise of acknowledgement that Alethia made was unenthused, but Barton either didn’t notice or didn’t take it as sufficient dissent.

Striding back into the dim, windowless VERITAS testing room with what apparently passed as lunch- an armful of vending machine junk food- Barton let his haul drop to the table in a cascade of technicolour plastic wrappers, plucking a bottle of Mountain Dew from a utility pocket and cracking it open with a firm twist.

If not for the sleeveless, matte-black SHIELD jumpsuit and cinched gun harness, the former assassin, marksman, and one half of STRIKE Team Delta, codename Hawkeye- brass-blond and stocky, square-featured and almost generically Midwestern- would have looked like nothing more than an overgrown burnout frat boy.

Several seats away, Alethia remained reclined in her chair, clean-soled boots propped atop the desk, crossed at the ankles. Her eyes were closed, mouth soft, ash-blonde hair pinned up at the back of her head, one arm draping from the armrest.

By direct contrast, if not for her own jumpsuit, Alethia would have resembled something fae, pretty and still in a way that was not quite natural or human.

As he swung back into his seat, spinning into place, Barton tossed one of the packets in her direction with characteristic flawless aim.

The bag of sour candies struck her boots, falling to the table with a crinkle of plastic. Alethia lifted her lashes just enough to eye the sugar-loaded projectile- then proceeded to ignore it, settling back again.

On the other side of the room, supervising the automated collation of results from their latest testing session, Dr Abigail Brand watched the exchange- observing and unobserved, the blue light of the screen reflected in the curve of her dark irises.

As the de facto head of Project VERITAS, and another of SHIELD’s externally sourced, fixed-term hires- headhunted from AIM several months ago, for her unique expertise in improving AI recognition and classification of human response data and biofeedback- Abigail saw more of Alethia than most.

Privately, she would argue that this was both in the literal and figurative sense.

As a consultant, Abigail was aware that her every interaction within SHIELD and its agents was glossed with a tepid distance, like a layer of clear, flexible resin. As an outsourced asset, Alethia was choked into near immobility, even when her collar slackened under Romanoff’s watch, constantly monitored and quarantined by a closed circle of operatives.

Abigail wasn’t ignorant as to which of them had it worse.

SHIELD had asked one of them nicely for their cooperation. However, Abigail strongly suspected that she wasn’t the only one savvy enough to say yes, given the same opportunity.

Abigail was good at recognising those like her. It was a necessary survival skill.

Within sealed rooms and months of ten-hour days, she had formed a rough sketch of who Alethia was, and they had charted out enough common ground to stand comfortable with each other.

In the wake of the Incident- jeez, are they really calling it that- she had recognised a shift.

Alethia had seemed- for want of a better word- happier. She was less guarded, less opaque, her smiles coming easier and her moods milder.

Judging by her response, Romanoff had interpreted Alethia’s mellowing as an opportunity- as signs of a burgeoning sense of comradery. There was a glimmer of optimism and increased warmth in her handling, and in the less falsely casual tone that Romanoff and Barton had taken with her- pressing their thumbs onto the scale of her conversion from risky asset to invaluable agent. Fury did not seem like the type to refuse an advantage, or fail to capitalise on potential value, and so had likely sanctioned her recruitment, if possible.

Abigail didn’t really think that anyone at SHIELD was stupid, but sometimes they did a very convincing impression of it.

If there was anything that she had learned, however, from spending few more years in academia and research than was strictly good for anyone’s mental health, it was that the sharpest and most highly regarded people in any given field were typically the ones most fixed in their outlook.

Looking at Alethia, all she could see was someone who had finally gotten what she wanted, and was now content to wait out the remainder of her sentence, and even be cordial for its duration.

Which begged the question: what had she wanted? And when, and how, did she get it?

“Alright, so, we’ve encountered gods now,” Barton was saying, splitting open a bag and popping a few Cheetos into his mouth with a crunch, “as in- real, literal, fell-out-of-the-sky Norse gods.”

“We have.” Alethia agreed idly.

“And we’ve got proof of aliens in HD. A lot of corpses too.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Alright, so- how many of the stories are true? How many myths, fairytales, religions, whatever- how many of them are real, or based on something real? Is the History Channel gonna start looking like National Geographic? How many clowns do we have to add to the circus? We’ve got aliens, demigods, whatever the hell the Nazis were doing back then- should we start looking out for vampires? Werewolves? Mermaids? I mean, why not, right? How many are we talking, here? I mean, how much weirder is the world going to get?”

There was a long moment of expectant silence, punctuated by the quiet crunch of corn puffs.

Then Alethia opened her eyes and straightened slightly, her hair mussed as she turned towards Barton.

“Oh, were you asking me?”

“Yeah, I’m asking you!”

“Oh. How should I know?”

“Y- wait, you don’t know?”

Alethia shrugged one shoulder, settling back with a flick of her wrist.

“Bring me your gods, and I’ll tell you if they’re real.”

Abigail grimaced, taking a hasty draught of her cooling coffee to hide it.

Fuck, give me an existential crisis, why don’t you.

She could almost hear Alethia laughing, warm as a heartbeat, unmalicious.

Alethia had remarked, once, that Abigail had never asked her anything outside of the testing sessions. According to her, most people gave into the temptation eventually; Fury was a notable exception, for which Alethia appeared to have a grudging respect, but Romanoff had been delicately circumventive in her attempt, while Barton had been unabashedly obvious in his.

Operating on too little sleep and too many hours of coding, Abigail had answered with a touch more blunt honesty that she probably should have.

I’m not stupid, she had muttered, you’re like some fucked-up genie, or that fairground thing from that weird-ass Tom Hanks movie. I’m not going poking that psychological hornet’s nest. If I gotta ask, I deserve the monkey-paw treatment.

Pft-!

Alethia had barely stifled her startled giggle behind her fingers, clear hazel eyes creased at the corners and glittering delightedly.

Abigail had frozen, mortified- what the fuck, Brand, why would you say that- until Alethia had spoken again in a faintly strangled tone.

It was Big.

… What?

The, ah- title of the weird-ass Tom Hanks film. It was Big.

Abigail had thawed, nodding slowly. The awkwardness ebbed just enough to let her mouth and scientific curiosity run away with her impulse-control again.

Why do they always ask you something?

Alethia had hummed quietly, cocking her head, open as the skies.

As a general rule?

Sure, yeah.

She had lifted her shoulder in a wry half-shrug. Curiosity. Hubris. People either want to witness the party trick, or prove it false. There are few who like to think that their deepest secrets are available to a perfect stranger, prima facia. But also- some of them just want the bragging rights. Of being the one to beat the living lie-detector. Alethia exhaled quietly. Spies. They’re the equal of surgeons, when it comes to ego.

Abigail had frowned, nose crinkling sceptically.

But- hold up. Their deepest secrets wouldn’t be available if they just kept their mouths shut, she argued. You need something to go off, right? You’re not psychic. All they gotta do is shut up and believe you halfway about your whole- truth- thing. Err on the side of caution.

Alethia had smiled, the motion as precise and conscious as the unfurling of a wing, half-hidden beneath the lingering skim of her fingers.

As you said, Dr Brand. You’re not stupid.

Abigail shivered at the memory, teeth clinking against the ceramic rim of her cup.

The words had been spoken casually enough, but there was a knowing in Alethia’s face that had rattled Abigail’s nerves.

It was nothing.

She’s not psychic.

Barton frowned in consternation, the Cheetos bag rattling in his lap.

“So you have no idea which stories are true? Even after hearing them?”

“Stories are stories. Their intent is different. They contain truth,” Alethia said, “even if they are not true.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“No it is not.”

“Because they really kinda sound like the same thing.”

“And yet it’s not.”

“Okay, so what’s the difference?”

Alethia exhaled, deep and quiet- then levered herself upright with a press of her palms into the arms of her chair.

“Thor and Loki were born approximately a year apart. Around 1150CE.”

“Were they?” Barton swallowed thickly, fingers already stained to the third knuckle with orange powder. “Hang on, how do you know that?”

“He told me. Except Norse mythology originates from the old Norse religion- which is thought to have been at the peak of active worship between 500BCE, and 1000CE. Do you see the dilemma?”

Several seconds late, Abigail registered the implication of who he was.

Barton gave no sign that he had noticed. But Abigail knew better than to underestimate those who had Fury’s favour.

“Oh. Yeah, okay. How is it possible that there are myths about Thor and Loki that are that old,” Barton said slowly, “when they hadn’t been born yet?”

His tone was one of statement and deduction, rather than question.

“I don’t know,” Alethia admitted with startling ease, almost laughingly, turning her head to meet Barton’s gaze with a pleased glint in her eyes. “Therein lies the mystery. Barring an anomaly in space-time, it’s impossible for Norse mythology to be a factual record of events. Yet it still has some correlation to the truth, as the planet is now aware. The myth is true; the mythology is not.”

“Huh.”

Tearing open a candy bar and breaking off a chunk, Barton mulled over Alethia’s statement.

“Okay, so- basically, a bunch of myths could turn out to be referencing something real, but,” he popped the bite into his mouth, speaking around it, “the folklore might not actually be that useful, in practice.”

“In essence, yes.”

“Huh.” Barton sucked nougat from between his teeth with an obnoxious smack. “Do you think we’ll be seeing more of this weirdness? Like, out in the open?”

“Mm, most likely,” Alethia said lightly, lifting her eyes back to the ceiling with a blink, “now that SHIELD can no longer swallow it back into the darkness.”

Barton paused, stilling like an animal sensing danger.

“You make it sound pretty sinister.”

“SHIELD has a list of enhanced people called the Index, constantly track their movements regardless of what they have or haven’t done, and threaten them into keeping their abilities hidden from the general public,” she said dryly. “You quite literally disappeared me.”

“Come on,” Barton rolled his head back in his chair exasperatedly, “that’s unfair and you know it. Even you have to admit that SHIELD’s mission is to protect people-”

“Which ones, and from what?”

Her tone was lacklustre, almost vacant, as though this conversation was one that she had with him many times before, and had little hope of it progressing any differently this time.

Abigail wondered what it said that she had to say it again- but also that she begun to anyway.

“Most of them- these myths in hiding- are in hiding from things like SHIELD. You are not the heroes in their stories. You don’t know about them because they don’t want you to. They masquerade as baseline humans and lie to your face and never think twice about it, because they are protecting themselves. They could be right here, in this room, and you would never know. And who could blame them?”

Abigail’s stomach dipped in terror.

The door opened.

“I got lunch,” Romanoff announced.

“I got lunch,” Clint protested, rattling a bag of pretzels in her direction, quickly switching gears into the distraction.

“You’ve got a future heart attack and type-two diabetes.” Dressed more casually than her partner, her dark-rinse jeans and scoop-neck sweater still relatively professional, Romanoff lifted a brown paper bag into the air. “I bought something with nutritional value.”

“If you went to the sandwich bar on the second floor, I seriously doubt that. Unless, you know, nutritional value is interchangeable with salmonella-”

“Shut up and eat your fibre, Clint.”

Sweeping across the room, Romanoff placed an oblong package on Abigail’s desk, wrapped in white deli paper: crab meat in mayonnaise, shredded lettuce, sliced tomato, pickles, and a dash of hot sauce on French baguette, in a somewhat inauthentic, New York approximation of a Louisiana po’boy.

Romanoff had a memory for such things.

Offering Abigail a brief smile, Romanoff turned to Alethia with a skim of chin-length cherry curls. “Ali. Caprese on focaccia, right?”

Ali? Abigail wondered with a twist of her mouth, as Romanoff tossed Alethia her sandwich with a low underarm throw. That’s new.

“I had them hold the pesto, add aioli, rocket, and red onion,” Romanoff added as Alethia caught the package with one upturned palm.

“What did you get me?” Barton asked expectantly.

“Salmonella.”

“Nat.”

“Did you save me some Oreos?”

“Please. I’m not a monster, Natasha.”

“Roast beef on wholewheat.”

“Hm. I’ll allow it.”

“Seriously, it’s a miracle you don’t have a nutritional deficiency-”

“Look, I keep telling you, peanut butter is a source of protein-”

Shrouded by the smooth-flowing banter between the agents, Abigail made the mistake of stealing a glance at Alethia.

She was looking directly at her.

Abigail’s blood seemed to drain directly to her vital organs.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

Her gaze was unworldly, frighteningly intense, like staring into the core of the sun. Abigail had the sensation of being an insect trapped in amber, paralysed at the mercy of a being that could carve her soul open and leave it to bleed, if she stood in her way.

After a moment, a faint, knowing smile softened at Alethia’s mouth- as though greeting Abigail for the first time.

Without comment, Alethia strained forward to drop her wrapped sandwich on the desk, and kicked off sharply- swivelling her chair, catching her boot against the table behind her to halt herself.

With the slant of her torso, her new position effectively left her with her back to Romanoff and Barton.

The message was clear.

Abigail forced herself to relax, unwrapping her imitation po’boy with trembling fingers and refusing to look back at Alethia, who was now humming a soft, romantic refrain.

She just had to reach the end of her contract. That was all. Once Project VERITAS entered its final phase, she could begin looking for another position. SHIELD would provide her with a mostly accurate reference from a credibly falsified employer, avoiding a damning void in her work history, so she could head back out and-

And then what?

It wasn’t an unfamiliar question.

After completing her studies, she had quietly left her school, declining to enter the graduate program. It wasn’t for her, she had decided, and to his credit, the head professor had been understanding, sending her off with his good will and a glowing reference.

But the world had been wilder, then, and smaller. Their conflict had been fought in shadows, both sides of the schism tacitly agreeing that obscurity was the best source of protection, for now.

But now the light had flooded across the globe, and there were fewer shadows to hide within, and-

What now?

What now, Brand?

Sooner or later, it seemed she would have to make the trip back to Westchester.

Later, when she had the time to think about it, Abigail asked Barton what Alethia had been humming.

Ironically, despite being mostly deaf without his hearing aids, Hawkeye had an excellent ear for music; even from Abigail’s tone-deaf attempt at replication, he had quickly identified the piece.

It was opera, apparently, one of those recognisable classical pieces that had filtered into common knowledge without anyone knowing actual title.

The song was an aria, from La traviata.

Sempre libera.

It was clever, and biting, and exactly what she could expect of Alethia, and it should have been enough of an answer just to hear the title.

Except Abigail had gotten curious, and listened to the aria, and looked up the lyrics, because scientific curiosity should not be sated by the first answer it encountered.

Alethia had not been humming the defiantly carefree, fluttering refrain- free and aimless I frolic, from joy to joy- sung by the opera’s protagonist, Violetta. Instead, she had been humming the lines of Violetta’s lover, Alfredo, as he sang offstage.

Love is the heartbeat of the entire universe, they read, the melody drawn out in gently sloping notes, mysterious, altering, the torment and delight of my heart…

The shackles, Loki decided, were a little excessive.

Chains as thick as a femur looped between his wrists and ankles, connected by a third to the collar resting against his clavicle, which locked into a fourth wrapped around his waist, from which two more were linked and leashed in the grip of a set of helmed Einherjar- Loki had wanted to roll his eyes at that alone, but he hadn’t been able to resist the low huff of laughter when he was met with no less than ten figures in golden armour outside his cell, dispatched to escort him to Valaskijálf Hall.

At least it would appear that Odin was finally taking him seriously.

The thought was bracing, allowing him to pull forth all the practiced, aloof insouciance of an Asgardian prince.

Odin was paying attention- it was only right that Loki give him a show.

He could already feel the discomfort twisting into the guards, like thumbscrews, in the face of his calm irreverence. They were the ideal test audience- Loki had manipulated enough of the Einherjar over the years that their thoughts were all but cellophane to him.

Admittedly, it was far easier to play the unrepentant monster when she was with him- emerging into consciousness like the break of dawn, burning and righteous and steadying, like a weapon warming his palm.

Over the weeks, their link had stabilised, enough that it could finally convey more than echoes of emotion.

He could feel the moment that she snapped awake in his mind, the breath of a spectre.

Where-?

Loki let his gaze drift briefly, letting her see his surroundings.

His eyes glazed a subtle circuit over dark, mirror-gloss floors, inset with knotwork motifs of amber marble, opulently engraved gold pillars bearing the weight of the high ceiling and its delicately detailed fresco. Fires burned in braziers thrice his height, contrasting the clear natural daylight streaming from the breezeways at his back. Through him, Astrid could no doubt hear the gentle clink and rattle of the chains against his leathers, and the smooth scrape of the Einherjar’s laminar armour as they kept in pace with him, in a parody of an honour guard. Loki could smell mist from the waterways, and sunshine, and the crisp opening knell of autumn- contrasting the heat of early summer that Astrid was currently experiencing in New York, from the trap of SHIELD’s air-conditioned base of operations.

It all tasted traitorously of home.

Trial, he explained to her simply.

Ah. Palace?

Yes.

She paused. Hm.

After a moment of consideration, Astrid sent him a breeze of blasé contempt, and a flash of a memory- of what he recognised as a casino lobby, somewhere on Midgard-

Loki almost choked.

Astra!

The Hall of Valaskijálf, the magnificent heart of the Palace of Asgard and the seat of its power, was being compared to the Bellagio on the Las Vegas strip.

Loki had to forcefully remind himself that dissolving into delighted, scandalised laughter would, at this juncture, be a bad idea.

Against his mind, Astrid preened, irreverently.

Sheath, she murmured with a tint of melancholy, curling around him, setting a little of her mana through their connection to press warm against his heart.

Shoulders relaxing minutely, Loki sent her every ounce of fierce, violent affection that was welling in his chest.

Dagger, he whispered back tenderly, his magic twining into hers like laced fingers.

Even despite the solidified connection, it was still like comparing the glint of a distant star to the heat of the sun, or hearing strains of music just beyond coherency. Loki would have wondered if he had not unconsciously chosen it as a masochistic punishment, if not for the fear that it was affecting her the same way.

“Loki.”

His heart stopped briefly.

“Hello, Mother.”

Loki whipped his head to meet the sight of her, blasé and unmoved.

Astrid tensed in his veins, wary and curious.

Queen Consort Frigga of Asgard was not dressed for court, devoid of the finer trappings of her station. Rather than an elaborately braided, sleekly curled coiffeur, brocaded chrysalis silks, and waterfall sheets of jewels, her gown was one of her simpler garments- a relatively subtle teal satin, with a seafoam-silver shawl draped over her arms. Her only item of jewellery was a set of turquoise pendant earrings, handcrafted in a simple Vanir design, waves of copper-blonde hair left unbound to her waist.

She looked- tired, anxious. Loki could see it in the lines around her eyes, in the tight downturn of her mouth. Her fingers were laced together, one thumb pressing at the opposite palm unconsciously.

Crushing an acute lurch of guilt, and the momentary embittered wish that he could have hated her for all that she had- or, more accurately, hadn’t- done, Loki steepled his eyebrows sardonically at her, his voice soft as velvet.

“Have I made you proud?”

“Please,” Frigga implored quietly, her eyes wide and unblinking, intent and quietly afraid, “don’t make this worse.”

“Define worse.” Loki riposted dryly.

“Enough.”

The king’s voice echoed throughout the throne room.

Loki consciously resisted the reflex to straighten his spine. He felt Astrid coil in response, her attention diverted from Frigga.

Loki turned towards the throne.

Set upon the raised dais, at the summit of three flights of curved steps, was the high seat of Hlidskijalf.

The seat itself was nothing so magnificent- a square of gold, hemmed by broad, rectangular blocks at either side to serve as arms, and a low back- but its silhouette was made imposing by the heavily ornamented wings of solid gold that curved from either side. Bevelled at the edges like a great axe blade, their gentle upward arch framed its occupant, like the centre of a set of inverted scales.

The Allfather sat comfortably upon it, as ever.

His armour was darker than when last Loki had stood in his presence, compared to his burnished silver-steel war plate, or the ceremonial armour that he had worn for Thor’s almost-coronation.

By contrast, the pitch leathers and aged gold plate looked almost tarnished.

Knowing his father, it was undoubtedly a message.

Loki met Odin’s gaze, finding one piercing blue eye gazing down at him dispassionately.

He refused to blink.

“I will speak to the prisoner alone.”

Odin spoke with a calm, almost reasonable authority.

Instinctively, a pit formed in Loki’s stomach, even his jaw worked with defiance.

A thousand years of conditioning- of loyalty, deference, and respect instilled towards his father, his commander, his sovereign- was not so easily broken.

Meanwhile, he could feel Astrid assessing and dissecting the Allfather like a lancet, merciless and unawed.

Whatever it was that she saw, Loki could already feel her dislike forming.

Frigga glanced towards her husband, settling one last unreadable look upon Loki- and turned on her heel, departing with a swirl of heavy skirts and quick steps, accepting her dismissal with dignity.

Loki watched her leave, before swinging his attention back to Odin.

So, Astrid stated, her presence cloaked across Loki’s shoulders like draped arms and mantled wings.

So, Loki agreed, leaning back into her support.

He drew closer to the steps with three slow, measured steps, and snapped his heels together in a sarcastic salute, the crisp clank of his shackles echoing out into the empty hall.

Provocateur, Astrid teased, like lips against his cheek.

This time, Loki left himself exhale a laugh, swaying forwards slightly.

“I really don’t know what all the fuss is about,” he said with a rehearsed air of callous, flippant levity, palms splayed as much as they could within the chains.

“Do you truly not understand the gravity of your crimes?”

Rich, Astrid commented dryly from across their link.

Loki sent back something that evoked a huff of agreement. Of all those involved, Odin had the barest understanding of his actions- even in his ignorance, Thor had at least witnessed the destruction for himself and had almost hit upon the correct question to ask.

“Wherever you go,” Odin proclaimed, almost blandly, “there is war, ruin- and death.”

Astrid stilled dangerously.

Dove, Loki calmed her, his expression sobering.

“I went down to Midgard to rule the people of Earth as a benevolent god.” Loki allowed a soft, taunting smile break through, unable to resist the accusation that welled. “Just like you.”

“We are not gods,” Odin said sagely, all but ignoring his closing barb. “We are born, we live, we die. Just as humans do.”

Hypocrite, Loki shared with Astrid, receiving her dry agreement in reply, before shrugging.

“Give or take five thousand years,” he corrected with a flat-lipped, sardonic smile.

“All this,” the Allfather mused, a hint of scorn finally bleeding through, “because Loki desires a throne.”

“It is my birthright!” Loki snapped, unable to withstand the insult, as though Odin had not told him that he was born to be a king, as though he could not have known what he was implying through the lens of that lie, as though the Norns-damned throne was all it was ever about-

“Your birthright-!” Odin bellowed in reply, leaning forward in his seat, as though to swiftly crush the insolence shown to him. “Was to die!”

Silence reigned for a moment.

In the ringing quiet- and the detached shock that, even now, there was still something left in him to hurt at a truth he had already known- Loki felt it.

Pure, clean, unadulterated rage, the emotion borrowed and possessive and selfish, swathed him.

It tasted like destruction on his tongue, like intent on the edge of his nerves, borne in the currents of something heart-deep that threatened to obliterate anything before it. Her mana burned bright in his nerves, crackling behind his retinas, threatening to radiate out of him and contaminating his own magic.

And if Odin caught the traces of a foreign mana in him, active and alive-

Loki reached for Astrid with thoughts like cool water and nepenthe, gathering her wild mana into his core, hastily absorbing and reforming it before Odin could notice.

There was only so much that his own magical core, and the mana-supressing runes in his shackles, could do to mask her presence. Ironically, it was fortunate that the connection was yet to develop to its full strength, muting her.

Given the strength of her rage, however, an intensity so heady that he could overdose on it-

Bastard. Her thoughts were incandescent, tumbling through his own and breaking through to a fresh level of coherency. Bastard. How dare he-

Beloved, please, calm- for me-

“- as a child. Cast out onto a frozen rock. If I had not taken you in,” the corner of Odin’s mouth lifted, almost a jeer, “you would not be here now to hate me.”

Abruptly, Astrid’s mood crystallised, bright and clear, giving Loki space to breathe again.

No, Loki heard her decide, no, better- wait and sic Daddy on him-

He took a sharp stride forward, back into more pressing problems.

“If I am for the axe, then for mercy’s sake, just swing it,” Loki challenged Odin in reply, sotto voce and almost obliging. If he seemed preoccupied, if Odin was given cause to suspect anything, if he found out about Astrid-

He felt the sharp knife of instinctive fear, sick in his stomach.

In this respect, Odin remained exponentially more dangerous than Thanos.

Astrid offered a flicker of conviction in comfort, her temper still cooling.

“It’s not that I don’t love our little talks, it’s just-” Loki paused pointedly, as though considering his phrasing. “I don’t love them.”

Odin didn’t respond to his insolence, as though it mattered so little to him that it was unworthy of a reaction.

“Frigga is the only reason that you are still alive, and you will never see her again.” His announcement was perfunctory, prelude to dismissal.

Ah.

Well. The Allfather knew how to mete out cruelty with the political precision of an autocrat.

“You will spend the rest of your days in the dungeon,” Odin concluded softly.

As though choreographed, the guards gave a short tug on Loki’s chains, drawing him back a step from the throne.

He should have been prepared for it.

He had been prepared for it, intellectually, had predicted the most likely ruling and Odin’s pretence at a measure of mercy, had expected to be kept in cold storage indefinitely lest Odin ever encounter a better use for him, or a quandary that Thor’s brawn could not resolve- even while he knew that the sentence would never be carried out. Between the Tesseract’s power and Astrid’s sheer will and wit, all Loki would have to do was ask.

But this was the ruling, the mock trial that was all that Loki was worth. Odin had not even deigned to ask why. He had assumed, and accepted the lie in confirmation of it.

Alderliefest, she gentled him, her mind as unclouded and radiant within his.

She strained for him like an outstretched hand, fingers flared and trembling.

Ah, Loki realised ruefully, so I really am being cruel to both of us.

Gripping onto her lifeline, winding the necessity around his fist to ground himself, Loki spoke numbly.

“And what of Thor? You’ll make that witless oaf king, while I rot in chains?”

“Thor must strive to undo the damage you have done,” Odin spoke sharply. “He will bring order to the Nine Realms, and then-”

The Einherjar behind him clamped leather-gloved hands down on his shoulders, prepared to haul him away.

“Yes. He will be king.”

Internally, Loki dissolved into triumphant laughter.

He felt Astrid’s flutter of curious confusion- and her sting of pleasure at being surprised.

Later, he vowed, darkly heated, already in anticipation of witnessing her reaction.

What Odin had meant as a parting volley- as salt ground into an open wound- was a precious piece of intelligence that Loki would have otherwise been hard pressed to obtain.

The Nine was in chaos, then. The damage you have done could only refer to the destruction of the Bifrost, only recently repaired and restored to functionality, with the assistance of the Tesseract.

Without the Rainbow Bridge, Asgard had limited means of interstellar travel. Their spaceworthy fleet had atrophied over the centuries of relative peace, the great warships considered obsolete upon the construction of the Bifrost, the streamlined technology left to fall behind the other galactic powers. Almost no one knew of the secret passageways that Loki had discovered, let alone mapped them, and there were few his equal in the kenning arts who could locate, stabilise, and manipulate the few that could accommodate passage of a large volume of troops.

Without the Bridge, Asgard had been cut off from the other eight realms.

And without Asgard’s presence as a deterrent, every world within the Yggdrasil complex would have been overrun with opportunists for months, if not close to years.

It was a cold necessity- a nasty shock to the established system, both for those who had relied upon Asgardian arms for the safety of their realm, and for Asgard itself at being so simply and effectively hamstrung for almost two years.

Thor would do what he did best, of course, and battle his way through the marauders, trussing them up and tossing them into the dungeons to rot beside Loki- but the damage would already be done.

The seeds would be planted, and people would start to think.

And when people started to think, they would start to talk.

And that, Loki could work to his advantage, like hot metal upon an anvil.

Thank you, Allfather, Loki wanted to say, laughing against the pain as he was led away, for your most gracious cruelty.

With that, the first gears were in motion.

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chaifootsteps · 6 months

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Ahoy Chai, I’ve been cooking up my own little rewrite for Hazbin/Helluva for funzos and I wanted to get your opinion on some ideas I’ve got.

The rewrite is called ‘Charlie’s Sinners’ cuz I like the reference to Charlie’s Angels, but it’ll be changed in the future for a couple reasons

This rewrite will condense Hazbin and Helluva into one narrative, but the main focus will be on Hazbin. So the story will be Hazbin’s but Helluva characters will appear.

The setting will be on Earth, not in Hell. This is because viv hasn’t done anything really interesting with Hell in any of her work, her Hell just feels like a shittier Earth. Plus, while this will be a narrative that has religion as a theme, religion will not be the primary focus of the story. So characters will be inspired by, but NOT explicitly based on religious/demonic figures. One more thing, other religious concepts and figures besides Christian ones may be included as well, so the setting being in Christian Hell wouldn’t make sense. Of course, I’ll be doing my homework to accurately and respectfully represent these religions and their cultures, since viv cannot be fucked to do that either. There will 7 main characters: Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, Alastor, Husk, Nifty, and Baxter. I specifically went with 7 characters because they’re meant to represent the 7 deadly sins in their personalities, interests, goals, etc. (Charlie=Pride, Vaggie=Wrath, Angel=Lust, Alastor=Gluttony, Husk=Sloth, Nifty=Envy, and Baxter=Greed)

The big, overall theme of this rewrite will be how we as intelligent mammals can improve. Whether it be ourselves, our relationships, our jobs, our society, even our world, the big question is how can we be better people? Also, how do we maintain being better people? It’s similar to Hazbin’s theme of redemption, but more down to earth and personal methinks. Bojack is gonna be a big inspiration for this, though I’ll have to check out Morel Orel as I’ve heard that has religious themes and is very dark.

Now while I haven’t redesigned any characters yet, I have been experimenting with body diversity in the characters because we all know how allergic viv is to such. For Charlie, I’ve made little change to her admittedly, mostly because she’s the most human of the main cast in the og Hazbin. Though having been inspired by other redesigns I may make her a little more plump since in my rewrite, Charlie is not royalty, but is still part of a powerful and weathly family and lives a luxurious yet sheltered lifestyle. For Vaggie, I intend for her to act as a foil for Charlie, so she’s short and stout, built like a cement brick because she’s lived a rough and tumble dog eat dog life. Tbh, I haven’t thought super hard how her physical appearance would tie into her story/personality/motifs yet, I just wanted a swole Vaggie because god’s gift to the earth is buff women. I also plan on giving her plenty of scarring, not only because wrath and violence, but so they could resemble the patterns of a moth’s wings.

For Angel, I’ve made them plus sized. This is because I’m keeping the spider motif with Angel, though much more subtle. Since tarantulas can be hairy/fuzzy, I liked the idea of Angel outwardly looking soft and cuddly, but inwardly holding some bite and venom that shines through their words and actions. My Angel is still a known sexual figure, though here they’re going to be a semi independent Onlyfans type model instead of an adult film star, so they’re very bottom heavy in comparison to Vaggie’s top heavy bulk and Charlie’s more evenly distributed body. Also they’re gonna have a fat ass cuz thorax, I just couldn’t show it super well from this angle. Angel is also gender fluid here, going by he/she/they pronouns

Finally is Alastor. He’ll be the only character in the main cast that’s keeping the spindly bodies viv is known for, though I’ve translated that into him having an uncomfortablely thin, almost emaciated body, based off Jack Skellington. This would also fit in with a deer motif, what with their long and thin limbs. I also liked the idea of a figure/representative of gluttony being anorexic in their physical appearance, like their so gluttonous that no matter how much they try to fill themselves up, they will always feel a terrible ache within themselves for more. All that so say Al is super thin, but he ain’t no glutton for food here, he just doesn’t take good care of himself. Currently, Alastor is the character that I’m both not changing that much but also radically departing from his og incarnation.

And that’s pretty much it for now. I’ll have Husk, Nifty, and Baxter sketched out soon, I’ve got classes atm so I can’t do that right now, but if I have piqued your tea interests I’d love to share more!

These are awesome ideas, and I love the sketches! They're a much needed breath of diverse body type air!

#simplyanartist #vivziepop mention #actual blog post

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azumetapraline · 1 year

Text

Yipee

I have finally redesigned the Metalor fanbabies I created on like Summer 2020! Back then, only the first one had a name… 😆 But now that they all have an actual design, I thought I could share them here! 🤭

More details right below 👇

Nemili

Nemili is the elder sister. She is a bit like her parents: she likes knowledge (especially history and magic) and books, but she diverges from them with her calmness, empathy and desire not to fight. She dislikes battles and war, and will only fight if she *really* has to (to save the ones she cares about). She would rather discuss and negotiate first. While she is skilled with magic, she prefers to use it to protect her allies than to create attacks. With her magic, she can create weapons and shields. She also knows many magic tricks Magolor taught her.

Meedo

Meedo is the middle brother. He resembles his dads in the sense that he is a fighter: while he is not actually aggressive, he won’t miss an opportunity to fight, either for training or to try to help or save someone. He is a gamer: it’s his main hobby after sports. While he cannot fly nor float, he is strong and agile enough it doesn’t stop this him from being an adventurer. Ever since he can think by himself, he has dreamed to be a knight, and so with his father, he is slowly training to be one. He could use magic if he wanted to but for now, he prefers to fight physically.

Stellphi

Stellphi is the youngest sibling. They are still a child and they don’t talk a lot, much more introverted than their siblings. They are very creative and playful, getting Meta Knight’s sense of strategy and Magolor’s taste for pranks. They dislike to fight, but love to feel useful, so they use their magic to heal and help instead (as well as some tricks here and there, of course). They also seem to have a strong character (their parents’ ego had to be given to at least one of them after all 😆).

That’s all I got for now! Of course I will give them a more detailed backstory one day, but for now I really can’t write much more. Feel free to draw them if you want! The boundaries: don’t ship them with anyone, don’t make obscene/adult/distasteful/offensive/political content involving them, don’t "gijinka" them, don’t change their age and don’t alter their designs too much (changing their clothing is okay). Please use the tags I’ve added to this post if you want to draw them (and @ me!!! I wanna see!!)! 💖

#metalor #kirby #azu's fan characters #nemili kirby oc #meedo kirby oc #stellphi kirby oc #⬅️ pretty much these tags the rest is for my gallery and visibility x)#*posts this then leaves because of feeling cringe*#kirby fan character #kirby oc #kirby fanart #metalor fankid #fankid #fanchild #fanart #metalor fanart #azu's artwork

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