Imintoomanyfandomssmh - Gay

do you wanna hang out tonight my curse was finally lifted

Rebirth

"Human DNA contains all the necessary genes to produce feathers - it's merely a matter of selective activation."

I may have gone a little overboard with this, but I saw this on a Twitter meme, and it got me thinking:

The human body readily responds to changing environmental stresses in a variety of biological and cultural ways. We can acclimatize to a wide range of temperature and humidity. When traveling to high altitudes, our bodies adjust so that our cells still receive sufficient oxygen. We also are constantly responding in physiological ways to internal and external stresses such as bacterial and viral infections, air and water pollution, dietary imbalance, and overcrowding. This ability to rapidly adapt to varying environmental conditions has made it possible for us to survive in most regions of the world. We live successfully in humid tropical forests, harsh deserts, arctic wastelands, and even densely populated cities with considerable amounts of pollution. Most other animal and plant species are restricted to one or relatively few environments by their more limited adaptability.

When an environmental stress is constant and lasts for many generations, successful adaptation may develop through biological evolution. Those individuals who inherit a trait that offers an advantage in responding to particular stresses are more likely to survive longer and pass on more of their genes to the next generation.

Genetic change in response to environmental stresses usually takes many generations to become widespread in a population. Fortunately, we also have other ways of responding more quickly as individuals during our own lifetime. The word adjustments is used here to refer to these shorter term physiological changes that are not inheritable. The word adaptations is reserved for inheritable genetic changes developed in a population over a long period of time.

One of the more powerful types of adjustments to environmental stresses is a change in growth patterns and development. This occurs in childhood and typically results in anatomical and/or physiological changes that are mostly irreversible in adulthood. Such permanent changes are referred to as developmental adjustment or developmental acclimatization.

This led me down a rabbit hole on how a human would be affected while in contact with the Devildom and its inhabitants and how MC differs from them. Excluding Solomon as his circumstances are much more complex.

For a normal human, the risks from exposure are mainly focused on their psyche, as the brothers' sins bleed from them almost uncontrollably, and its mostly the same for other demons in the Devildom and the Devildom itself. So, as long as the human stays vigilant, they would be able to scrape by with only minor affects from the exposure. Their bodies wouldn't change, and even if they did, it wouldn't be apparent in them, but in their offspring and further descendents.

MC, however, is not a normal human. For the most part, they are immune to the affects of the sins due to their angelic heritage. But I can imagine that there would still be some results from being near them long term.

Human beings are imitative generalists. We can immediately imitate a wide range of behaviors with great facility, whether they be vocal maneuvers, body postures, or actions on objects.

So it's likely that MC would eventually start imitating some of the brothers' habits after so long. And in so duing, succumbing, more often than not, to their sins, changing them even more than before.

Which brings me to this:

MC, after being in the Devildom for so long and in contact with all these supernatural beings, begins to adapt to the environment due to their angelic heritage, exposure to magic, and close proximity to the brothers, along with their pacts.

As time passes, they begin to feel a slight change in their back and skull. They can feel the skin begin to stretch, an itch they can't seem to be free of. An ache settles there as their bones begin to change, and large lumps form there, the skin turning a bright red due to irritation.

Their diet changes, too. Foods they weren't able to eat before because of nasty side affects from human consumption no longer ail them. They become much more tempting.

Strong magic no longer makes them feel sick. Before, long exposure made their pulse quicken, head throb, stomach churn, and now its barely even a tickle. A slight sensation, like a puff of breath against their skin.

Their physical strength becomes much stronger. They break things with much more ease now. Pencils, toothbrushes, cups. All things that are imprented into their muscle memory become much harder to use. Things that were supposed to be too heavy for humans feel much lighter.

The others don't seem to notice. Assuming MCs discomfort is due to them being a human in their habitat. Neither Solomon nor the angels notice either for the same reason. Diavolo and Barbatos are the same.

They continue to do as they have done from the start. Bringing MC small comforts to help them survive. Basic necessities that humans require. They make sure that the sun lamp in MC's room stays functioning. They have human foods in stock. Medication should MC need it. All of their needs and wants are met with utmost care from the beings that love them so deeply.

MC says nothing and hides it, becoming more distant. Confused and trying to convince themself that this is but a passing thing. Its not the first time something weird or painful has happened to them in all their years being in the devildom.

That is until a blood curdling scream rips through the HoL in the middle of the night, a painful sound akin to that of a banshee, snatching all the inhabitants away from what occupied their attention.

They know that voice and are all scrambling to get to them.

Mammon arrives first, already in his demon form, being the quickest of the brothers and bursts through MCs door with no regard to the fact that he turned it to splinters. He is snarling, ready to protect MC, but the scene before him makes him freeze.

MC is on the floor, on their hands and knees. Eyes screwed shut as their face twists with excruciating pain. More screams pushing past their lips, each one with more ferocity. Their covers had been pulled along with them as if they had fallen out of bed.

The smell of blood hits him like a punch to the gut. MC was covered in it. Their sleep shirt drenched in the red liquid. Its slides down their face with no intention slowing.

It brings back awful memories that he never wants to remember. Their body cradled in his arms as he pleaded for them to stay awake and stay with him after Belphie threw them over the railing.

The ringing of their screams in his ears shakes him out of his stuper, and he is at their side in seconds, his hands hovering over them, unsure whether or not he should touch them since they look to be in so much pain.

He has no idea what to do, and before he knows it, he's sobbing. Screaming for his older brother.

"Lucifer! Lucifer, help!"

The eldest was a blur of black as he rushed in. His wings and horns on full display. His red eyes practically bulging from their sockets at what he found. But he was quick to hide it.

"What happened?!" He snapped.

Mammons mouth worked to form words but could barely get them out between his sobbing breathes, "I-I don't... I found them like this and..."

There was no histation in Lucifers stride as he dropped down to one knee next to them. His hand came to softly rest on MCs shoulder to get them to look at him, but her scream of pain at the contact made him jerk it away. He gently cradled their face after that and noticed that their skin was hotter than humans should ever be. He knew enough to know that if they didn't act fast, MCs organs would begin shutting down. However, the eldest was not adept in the knowledge of human physiology and was internally berating himself for it.

"Satan!" He yelled.

The fourth born was already hot on their heels before his name could leave the mans mouth, with the rest of them not far behind.

Deja Vu for all of them. Reliving that fateful night from years long passed.

The blondes eyes scrunched together as he ran to them, leaving the others to stare in horror from the doorway.

"Their temperature is too high. We need to cool them off somehow." Lucifer said, his fist balled at his side, knuckles white from fighting off his pride and his worry.

"We need to get them into an ice bath," Satan said, the back of his hand gently lingering on MCs cheek, but when the others made no attempt to move, he snapped. "NOW!"

They scattered, but Lucifer and Mammon remained.

"We need to stop the bleeding too," he continued. "With their temperature so high, medication won't work. Their body will burn it off before it can help."

Satans voice softened, "MC, we need to see where the blood is coming from. Where does it hurt?"

MCs chest heaved, their breathes coming sharp and fast, "b-back.... he-head"

"I'm going to remove your shirt, okay?"

Satan nodded for Lucifer to begin examining their head while he began ripping away the shirt as gently as possible, paying little mind to MCs exposed form.

Satans breath stopped at what he saw, eyes wide. Six jagged tears lined their spine. Hollowed bones petruding through the exposed muscle. Strips of flesh hung over their sides, and each breath they took seemed to tear at it more.

Lucifers reaction was the same. The skin on MCs forehead had split, leaving bleached white mounds of bone in its wake. And when he looked up to see Satans face twisted with emotion, his eyes fell to the mangled flex.

Mammons sobbing intensified at the sight. What are they supposed to do? None of this was right. What is happening to MC? Why? Why, why, why, why, why, why?

MCs screams returned, and they fell to the floor in agony, reaching out to the men in front of them and latching on to them. The muscles in their back flexed, and the hollow bones pushed out further.

Asmo reapeared, "Its ready-" he gasped. His eyes fell to MCs crumbled form, and his hands covered his mouth just as Levi, Beel, and Belphie arrived.

Levi was already crying. Worrying over his best friend. But now it was so much worse. What was happening? How is he supposed to help? He wants to desperately, but has no idea what to do.

Beel was the same. He's hates seeing the people he loves more than anything in so much pain. His strength has no use in this situation, and it pains him. This is not a battle he can win.

Belphie is still as a statue. His mind racing, feet frozen in place, unable to look away. Was this what my brothers felt that time? This fear that seeps into his stomach is the same fear and agony that he felt when Lilith died. Not again, not again, not again.

"MC can you stand?" Lucifer asks.

"No," MC wailed. "Hurts too much.... can't move. Please make it stop! I can't-"

Their screams turned to agonizing sobs.

"Belphie, we need you to put them to sleep." Lucifer commanded.

Belphie did not move. He barely heard him speak.

"Belphie!" Mammon yelled.

He still did not move. Caught in the well of his own misery and regret.

MCs voice broke through, "Belphie, please!"

Belphie was shoved forward by Levi before his feet began to move on their own. Hesitant hands reached for MC, his thumbs brushing over their eyelids until they closed completely, and they fell limp into Lucifers arms.

Lucifer called Diavolo to let him know of the situation. They did their best to keep everything in order while waiting on MC to recover. Weeks passed, and the Prince and Barbatos began to visit the HoL daily to check on MCs progress.

They treated MCs wounds as best they could, even bringing Simeon and Solomon to try and help as well, with Luke sending baked treats he made for MC. The angels magic did little to help as the bones would tear the wound open anew as it continued to grow even larger with flesh new beginning to form around it.

None of them had ever seen this before. Even Solomon was at a loss. Angelic healing magic was the strongest in all three realms, and it wasn't working. Human medicine wasn't helping, and neither was demonic magic. So, the sorcerer turned to experiments and research. Pilfering through all his old tomes and notes. Taking viles of MCs blood for testing. Satan helped him with his search as well, staying awake for days on end.

Weeks turned to months, and Belphie took to staying in MCs room in order to keep them in a state of comatose to help them endure the pain, only allowing them to be awake to eat whatever food his twin brought for them. Beel had taken to being their bodyguard when the others weren't around.

Mammon came and went. Bringing with him items he believed might make MC feel better, but he wouldn't stay for long. It hurt him too much to see MC in this state. While he was away, he spent his time searching, bribing, and threatening others to find a solution. Witches or other demons, it made no difference to him. He would pay any price.

For a while, Levi stayed locked up in his room. Feeling as though he would just get in the way. But it wasn't long before he couldn't stand not having his best friend there with him. So he began visiting them, even when they weren't awake. Talking to their sleeping form about whatever game or anime he was currently fixated on until his rambling turned to pleading for them to get better.

Asmo had declared himself MC's nurse. Washing their hair and body, cleaning their wounds, and using special creams and oinments to help with swelling and scarring. He could often be found sitting by their bed holding their hand in his lap as he whispered compliments to them. His smile unaltering even if it never reached his eyes.

Lucifer came late in the night, letting Belphie and Beel leave to get true rest, and he would just sit in silence as he watched their breaths rise and fall. And when he knew he was completely alone, his back would bow with the weight of his pain, shoulders sagging under the pressure. His fist would fly to his hair, strands coming loose as he pulled. Tears would well up in his eyes. Was this Fathers doing? Was he punishing you as he had done to us? Was he truly so petty to put you through all this pain? His tears would stop as soon as the twins returned, and he would stand, his spine rigid and head held high before turning to leave himself.

This all became a routine until MC's wings and horns stopped growing.

Their wings were massive, comparable to Lucifers, and pitch black, the tips white on the underside like those of Black Vultures from the Human Realm.

Their horns were smooth like polished crystal as they curved up and around the crown of their head like a halo, the ends bent upward. Black at the base and fading to white as they went.

Finally, they found the answer thanks to Solomon.

The Sorcerer had come to the HoL, exhausted and worse for wear, but with a triumphant smile on his face. Satan, Diavolo, Barbatos, and Simeon followed close behind.

He gathered them all in MCs room, where they still slept.

"So what's wrong with em'?" Mammon squawked, impatient as ever.

"There is nothing wrong with them. Not truly. In simple terms, MC has evolved. They are no longer human." Solomon answered plainly.

"So they are a demon now?" Beel asked.

"That's the intriguing part, No. After running multiple tests, I could find no trace of the human genome or anything connected to demons or angels in their blood. From what I can gather, the genes from their angelic heritage were domant before being activated by their experiences here in the Devildom. Their body evolved to survive. Normally, these new genes would be passed on to their descendents much later, but due to their peculiar circumstances and the power they have aquired, the process was excelerated. MC is no longer human and neither demon nor angel. They have become something new."

"Would they be comparable to a Nephilim or Cambion?" Diavolo asked.

"I don't know. All we can do is wait and see. But I do not believe they will pose a danger. If anything, this cements them as a connection to all three realms. Having been born a human with angelic blood and their relationships with all of you and pacts with the brothers, they might well be your greatest asset to create the peace you have been working so diligently for."

They all turned to look at MCs sleeping form.

"Then what are we waiting for, huh? Let's wake em' up!" Mammon exclaimed.

Lucifer looked over to Diavolo and received a warm smile and a nod.

With them all gathered around Belphie lifted his magic and MC stirred.

Their eyes blinked open, and they were greeted with new life.

Drawing reference to MCs new form. Science Overview

Aged Barbatos is making rounds again suddenly so here’s a master post of all the art I’ve done for easy findings and viewing!

pls work

you may think your only options are

but in fact you can

Reblog if you love lesbians and you love lesbianism and you love being a lesbian and you love lesbians

are u ever sick w longing. and i don't just mean romantic longing. i mean longing for a place you barely get to see, longing for friends you no longer have, longing for feelings you might have left behind in your childhood, longing for creativity, longing for a rich and more expansive life, longing for less inhibition. longing for more passion. longing for ur life to be so incandescent w something it thaws all the frost in ur bones. are u ever so consumed w it it rends ur heart in two. do u understand me

Please help me rebulid my Bakery

Vetted here by @90-ghost

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Donate to Please Help Ismail Rebuild His Bakery, organized by Valeria V

From Flour to Rubble: Ismail's Journey of Resilience Ismail, a baker from Gaza, on… Valeria V needs your support for Please Help Ismail

I'm Ismail Almughanni an entrepreneur from devastated Gaza trying his best to rebuild his Bakery 🍞🥐🥖

On a quiet morning, the aroma of freshly baked bread filled the street, signaling the start of a new day at your small bakery, a place you took immense pride in. For years, this bakery had been a haven where people from all around would gather to enjoy the warm, delicious pastries and bread that you carefully crafted. It was a symbol of hard work, a beacon of hope, and a destination for anyone seeking a taste of comfort amidst life's challenges.

But one day, in the blink of an eye, everything changed. The sounds of bombing began to shake the city, and it wasn’t long before the fires of war reached your neighborhood. There was no warning, no chance to escape or save what you could. Shells rained down on the district that housed your beloved bakery. You watched helplessly from a distance, unable to do anything.

Minutes passed like hours. When the noise finally subsided, and the thick smoke that blocked out the sun began to clear, you looked towards your cherished place. It was destroyed.

The walls that once protected you and brought you closer to your customers had collapsed, and the oven where you had kindled the flames of hope had turned to ash. Everything was shattered, broken, as if that place had never been a sanctuary of peace and comfort.

But the destruction wasn’t just physical. The pain in your heart was far greater than any material loss, a place filled with beautiful memories now reduced to rubble. The moments when you saw smiles on people’s faces as they savored your bread, the laughter that echoed through the bakery—those were now just memories, dissolving in the ashes of devastation.

As days went by, you tried to piece together the fragments, not just of the bakery but of yourself as well. You knew rebuilding wouldn’t be easy, and the wounds left by the war wouldn’t heal quickly. But you also knew that the hope you had infused into your bread would remain alive in your heart, even if the tables and chairs were destroyed, even if the bakery itself was gone.

The bakery may have been destroyed by war, but its spirit lives on in you, in everyone who tasted your bread, and in everyone who walked into that small place and found a slice of happiness.

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The Journey of Life or Death: Our Displacement from the Ruins in Gaza

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The Journey of Life or Death: Our Displacement from the Rubble… Hani Yasser needs your support for "Help us build our future after being dis

Hello, I’m Hani, 26 years old, from Gaza. Life wasn’t easy even before the war. I studied social work, but due to the lack of job opportunities, I was forced to work as a taxi driver. But in October last year, everything changed in unimaginable ways. The war on Gaza began, and my life, as well as my family’s, turned into a never-ending nightmare.

We lived in an area close to the border, and when the shells started raining down on us from the very first hour, we had no choice but to leave. We heard the sounds of bombings destroying the homes and streets around us, and we witnessed how our city turned to ruins in just a few hours. Massacres were happening right before our eyes; children, women, and the elderly fell as helpless victims. Everything we loved disappeared — our home, our neighborhood, and our neighbors.

At first, we tried to hold on. We stayed for two months in northern Gaza despite the destruction all around us. But when the bombing intensified and targeted every surrounding area, we had to make the hardest decision: to flee south. The journey was not easy. Everywhere, the destruction was immense, roads were cut off, and there was no means of transportation. Every moving vehicle was directly targeted, and we were terrified of every sound.

Still, we had to move forward. I gathered my family: my father Yasser (55 years old) and my mother Manal (50 years old), who suffers from diabetes and high blood pressure, my sister Safaa (23 years old), my brother Ibrahim (15 years old), and my younger siblings Nasser (7 years old), Bara’a (5 years old), and Adam (3 years old). We began walking on foot, covering over 15 kilometers, while I carried Adam on my back at times. We could hear the planes overhead and see the devastation around us.

With every step, we approached the checkpoints controlled by Israeli soldiers. The sight of armed soldiers inspecting everyone heightened our fear. The children cried, and every day Nasser would ask me, "When will we go back home?" I had no answer. Each time I looked into his eyes, my heart would break, knowing that he was searching for hope amidst the sorrow.

After hours of waiting and fear at the checkpoints, we finally entered the south. But our suffering didn’t end there. We were taken to Deir al-Balah, to a school overcrowded with displaced people. The classrooms were extremely packed, with each room hosting at least five families. We couldn’t find a place inside, so we had to sleep beside the school’s wall, living in a makeshift tent made of cloth and wood provided by some people. I watched the children as they tried to sleep and felt powerless to provide them with safety.

Another month passed, and we were asked to leave that area and move to Rafah. We lived in a small tent for four months among thousands of displaced people in the Al-Zawaida area. But during the last month, heavy rains flooded our tent, making it impossible to stay there. We were forced to relocate to a school that was still under construction. We have now been living in this school for five months, sharing a single classroom with five other families, struggling to survive and stay alive.

Our emotions are a mix of fear and pain, but every time I see my family standing strong together, I feel that there is still hope in our hearts. This journey was not only physical but emotional as well. Every day, we live with the hope of returning to our home, which now only exists in our memories.

In the midst of this suffering, getting food and water has become a daily challenge. We live in harsh conditions where food aid arrives in limited quantities and is not enough to meet the needs of my large family. Sometimes, we are forced to wait in long lines just to get a small amount of food, while the children endure hunger and anxiety.

As for water, the situation is even worse. We struggle to obtain clean drinking water, which puts us at risk of illness. The health conditions around us continue to worsen, with many diseases spreading due to the lack of cleanliness and overcrowding. I see my brother Adam (3 years old) suffering from a persistent cough, and my heart breaks knowing I can’t do anything to help him.

These conditions surround us from every angle, making life more difficult, but we continue to endure, hoping to return to our normal lives.

My campaign is legitimate and documented, and I’m here to ask for your help. Please support us in this journey by sharing my story or providing assistance to my family. We need help now more than ever, as every step of support is a step towards hope and survival.

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Donate to "Help us build our future after being displaced from Gaza!", organized by Hani Yasser

The Journey of Life or Death: Our Displacement from the Rubble… Hani Yasser needs your support for "Help us build our future after being dis

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