#god complex squad

[tytarax]

Imagine the chaos if the reader in the divine babysitters/ too many Zamasu’s thing got sick

You don’t even sneeze dramatically.

It’s small. A tiny: “…achoo.”

But to the Zamasu collective?

It’s the sound of the cosmos tearing itself apart.

You: sniffles Zamasu #1: “BELOVED MORTAL, WHAT WAS THAT???”

You: “I think I’m getting a little—” Zamasu #2: “POISONED?!?”

You: “No—” Zamasu #3: “CURSED??”

You: “Just sick—” Zamasu #4 clutching you like a Victorian wet cat: “THE FRAGILITY OF MORTALITY IS PAINFUL TO WITNESS.”

A chorus of Zamasus rise in divine harmony: “THIS IS INTOLERABLE.”

They don’t understand “colds.” Or “viruses.” Or “immune systems.”

But they do understand that you’re warm, tired, and sniffly.

Which means: They start naming it like it’s a sacred plague.

“The Affliction of the Quiet Flame.”

“Soul-Drain Through Nasal Channels.”

“The Mortal Dissolution Syndrome.”

“Water Leakage From Face Orifices.”

You: “It’s literally just a cold.”

Zamasu #12: “A cold? A cold? MORTALS DIE FROM COLD!”

You: “They don’t.”

Zamasu #12: “THEY DO NOW.”

They refuse to move you; they build around you.

3 Zamasus fluff your pillows

2 bring 97 blankets

5 hover in a circle generating “holy warmth”

1 makes soup

1 argues soup is unholy mortal poison

8 draw sigils to “extract the illness dimensionally”

1 cries

10 pray dramatically

Zamasu #4: “We must tame this vile pathogen.”

You: “It’s allergies.”

Zamasu #4: “THEN WE SHALL ERADICATE NATURE.”

They don't know how to cook.

At all.

One Zamasu tries to boil water. (Somehow burns it) Another blesses it. Another purifies it. Another vaporizes the pot by accident.

The final product is either:

glowing

vibrating

singing

or sentient

You: “I’m not drinking that.” Zamasu #6: “IT IS MADE FROM LOVE AND DIVINE ERRORS. DRINK IT”

Oh, the next part is hell.

They all attempt healing techniques.

Simultaneously.

Your house becomes a lightshow of green divine ki beams, holy auras, and sparkly nonsense.

You briefly see time backwards. Your carpet becomes a plant. Your couch becomes a cloud. You sneeze once more, and they SCREAM.

You: “I have a fever.” Zamasu #3: “I SHALL HOLD YOU.” Zamasu #8: “NO, I SHALL HOLD THEM.” A dozen Zamasus: “WE SHALL ALL HOLD THEM.”

You are lifted by a cluster-hug of divine idiots.

Zamasu #14 is crying again. Zamasu #1 is writing your “final words” even though you didn’t say any. Zamasu #9 brings you flowers. Then 8 more bring you flowers, jealous of #9.

Zamasu #2: “If the last mortal perishes, the cosmos will weep.”

You: “I’m fine.”

---

You: “I feel better today.” Silence. Every Zamasu freezes.

Zamasu #1 (trembling): “…You… you LIVED?”

Zamasu choir: “A MIRACLE.”

They all begin celebrating like you resurrected.

Someone starts chanting your name. Someone makes a shrine. Someone paints you on their wall.

Zamasu #5 tears up: “They have persevered… truly the most divine mortal.”

You: “I just took Tylenol.”

They scribble “Tylenol” onto sacred scrolls like it’s a forbidden ritual.

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[tytarax]

lol just read your Too Many Zamasu’s oneshot

I pictured that part where all the Zamasu’s gasp at reader saying the reason they survived being bad luck as them doing some dramatic “clutching my pearls” style theatre gasp and that’s really funny to me

But also I can’t help but see it as reader wanting to be alone or trying to leave if they can, but then nope they aren’t getting that

Totally, they would be total Karens

You’d been trapped in this so-called paradise for… how long now? A few hours? Days? Time didn’t seem to work properly here, it was always twilight, always glowing faintly green, and always filled with the sound of Zamasus talking to themselves.

Correction. Talking at you.

“Dearest, you must eat,” one said, holding a bowl of something suspiciously luminous. “I do not require sustenance,” said another. “Yet I find the act of preparing food for her… soothing.” A third appeared out of nowhere. “You are wasting divine energy on mortal indulgences.” The first glared. “You are wasting divine air by existing.”

You sat in the middle of their argument, staring blankly at the bowl. “You guys do realize I can’t eat light soup, right?”

They all froze, eyes widening in collective revelation. Then, in perfect unison: “She rejects divinity itself! Such humility!”

You dragged a hand down your face. “That’s… not what I said.”

The main Zamasu, or maybe just the one who talked the most, stepped forward, face serene, voice dripping with reverence. “You misunderstand our purpose, beloved mortal. This sanctuary exists because you cannot be trusted to wander alone.”

“Yeah, see, that’s the thing,” you said, standing up. “I love wandering alone. It’s kind of my hobby.”

Every Zamasu gasped dramatically, hands flying to their chests like they were in a cosmic soap opera.

“She wishes to leave us?” “Unthinkable.” “Unacceptable.” “Unholy.” “Unflattering!”

You blinked. “...Unflattering?”

That one straightened, looking mildly defensive. “Your absence would make our divine visage seem lonely.”

You squinted. “You’re gods. Can’t you just, I don’t know, not be lonely?”

There was a heavy silence. Then, almost sheepishly, one muttered, “We tried that. It was boring.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yes?” a dozen voices answered instantly.

You inhaled through your nose. “I walked into that one.”

Later, after you’d escaped their fifth group discussion on “the ethics of mortal nap schedules,” you tried to sneak outside the glowing barrier they’d made. It felt like soft glass under your fingers, warm, humming faintly.

Maybe if you poked hard enough-

A hand materialized beside yours. “Ah, ah, ah. No escaping paradise,” one said sweetly.

You turned to glare at him. “Paradise doesn’t usually come with surveillance.”

Another appeared behind you. “It is not surveillance, dear one. It is care.” A third: “Eternal, unyielding, omnipresent care.” A fourth: “A divine comfort, if you will.” A fifth: “An act of worship, truly.”

You threw your hands up. “It’s stalking!”

They looked legitimately confused. “Stalking?” “Yes!” you snapped. “Following someone around and not letting them breathe!”

One put a hand to his chin. “That sounds like devotion.” Another nodded solemnly. “Indeed. A sacred act.” A third clasped his hands together, misty-eyed. “We are so devoted.”

You groaned, head falling into your hands. “Unbelievable. I’m living in a cult made of the same person.”

The lead Zamasu tilted his head. “A cult implies hierarchy. We are all equal, perfect reflections of the divine.” “Cool,” you said dryly. “Then maybe one of your ‘equal reflections’ can make me a door.”

“No,” they all said at once, smiling serenely.

You stared at them for a long moment. “You know what? Fine. I’ll build one myself.”

They exchanged glances, intrigued, even proud. “She builds. How beautifully mortal.”

You picked up a rock. “I swear I will throw this at you.”

One smiled, hands clasped reverently. “She threatens! How adorably violent.”

Hours later, they were still circling, still murmuring divine nonsense, still absolutely thrilled by every sarcastic comment you made.

At some point, you stopped arguing.

You lay on your back, staring up at the fractured sky, muttering, “If this is paradise, I want a refund.”

The nearest Zamasu crouched beside you, smiling warmly. “There are no refunds in divinity, dearest mortal. Only eternity.”

You turned your head, deadpan. “That’s the worst slogan I’ve ever heard.”

He blinked, then actually looked pleased. “She critiques our marketing. She engages.”

You groaned into your hands. “I’m never getting out of here, am I?”

A hundred voices answered softly, almost lovingly: “No.”

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[tytarax]

On my knees. Please, if you have the chance, can you write a sequel to that fic of Y/N finding the goku black clones and zamasu

Or

Could you please write another fic for platonic Yan infinite zamasu?

Your writing is so good I want to eat it ;-;

Thanks! And please don't eat my writings, it'll be bad for your stomach, love :(

(I had to go look for those scenarios because I forgot the fuck are they're about. Sadly, I got lazy and didn't find it.

Believe it or not, this has been in my drafts for months, sorry :(

The sky had been broken for days, violet cracks stretching across the heavens, each one pulsing faintly with a sickly divine glow. Cities were silent, the wind carrying nothing but ash and whispers of gods.

And you were still here. Somehow.

You had been scavenging what remained of a ruined street when the air began to hum, not wind, not energy. Voices. Too many of them.

“Ahh… the mortal endures,” said one voice, smooth and delighted.

You froze.

Then another voice, the same one, spoke from behind you. “She persists, despite the purification of this world.”

You turned slowly. There wasn’t one Zamasu. There were dozens. Hundreds. They floated above the ground, overlapping one another like reflections in a cracked mirror, all identical, all smiling.

“Oh no,” you muttered. “It’s a group project again.”

The swarm moved closer, the sound of their divine ki a low hymn. “You need not fear,” said one, reaching toward you. “We will not harm you. You are… exceptional.”

“Yeah, that’s what people usually say before doing something weird.”

They blinked in near unison, an eerie ripple of confusion.

“We would never defile such beauty with violence,” said another. “We would preserve you,” murmured a third. “We would protect you from yourself,” whispered a fourth.

They were surrounding you now, forming a perfect circle, each version of Zamasu watching with almost childlike reverence.

“You survived the cleansing,” one declared proudly. “A miracle among mortals!”

“More like bad luck,” you muttered.

Several Zamasus gasped in perfect harmony, scandalized. “Blasphemy against your own resilience?” “How adorably humble!” “She mocks herself! How mortal!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “I swear, if I had a senzu bean for every time a god called me ‘adorably mortal’…”

The nearest Zamasu floated closer, his tone soft, disturbingly affectionate. “You... must be safeguarded. You will remain here, under our collective watch.”

“Wait. Remain? As in-”

“Yes,” they all said at once. “Forever.”

You took a cautious step back, trying to look calm while every survival instinct screamed run. “Listen, I appreciate the attention, but I’m more of a ‘live alone and not be watched by omnipotent clones’ type of person.”

They tilted their heads, synchronously. “Alone?” one repeated. Another frowned. “Impossible. You are far too precious to be alone.” “Too fragile,” added another, placing a hand over his chest. “Mortality is fleeting. We will ensure yours is not.”

You sighed, muttering under your breath, “I miss when the worst thing chasing me was a Saiyan.”

The entire sky shimmered as if the world itself laughed at that, or maybe that was just them. The Zamasus closed in, their glowing hands forming a soft green dome of energy around you.

“We shall build a paradise,” the main one said gently, “for you and us. The last untouched soul among perfection.”

“Yeah,” you said dryly, staring up at the horde, “paradise with a thousand green babysitters. Exactly what I wanted.”

A pause.

Then, to your horror, several Zamasus looked genuinely pleased. “If that pleases you,” one said, bowing, “then so it shall be.” The others nodded in absolute agreement, their collective voices echoing through the broken air:

“It shall be.”

You sighed again, staring at the glowing field forming around you, muttering to yourself: “I’m never mocking Goku’s ‘crazy god problems’ again.”

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[tytarax]

So I have this comment from God-knows-when and I just read it, sowwy @melisahoxha009

---

You decide that if you're going to survive living with fourteen divine babysitters, they need to learn how normal people function right?

Right?

So today's lesson:

Money

You: Okay, mortals use money to buy things

Silence

Every Zamasu stares

"...Buy?"

...

Right, you forgot civilization doesn't exist anymore.

You: Okay, imagine you want an apple

Zamasu #4 creates an apple

You: No no, a normal person wants an apple

Zamasu #4 deletes the apple

You: A normal person wants an apple

Zamasu #4: Then they acquire an apple

You: How?

Zamasu #4: They pick it

You: What if they can't?

Zamasu #4: Then they ask someone

You: Why if that person says no?

Zamasu #4: Why would they?

You: Oh my gosh...

Collective "Yes?"

---

You: Okay! Let's say someone grows apples

"Good"

You: And another person wants apples

"Excellent"

You: The second person gives the first person money

Silence...

"...Why?"

You: Because the farmer worked hard

"So the reward for labor is... a piece of paper?"

You: It's more complicated than that

"Then explain"

(I'm to lazy to write Zamasu #X a lot of times okay??)

You: So money represents value

"What determines value?"

You: Supply and demand

"What determines demand?"

You: What people want

"What determines want?"

...

"What determines people?"

You: STOP

---

The Zamasus gather in a circle.

A serious theological debate begins

---

"So mortals collectively agreed that small objects represent resorces"

"An exchange system"

"Fascinating"

"Honestly impressive"

---

You: Thanks

"We didn't say it was a good idea"

You proceed to make the mistake of explaining jobs

You: People worked to earn money

"They required the permission to obtain resources?"

You: Kinda

"So they spent most of their lives performing tasks they didn't enjoy"

You: Sometimes

"...Oh"

For the first time in all day, they look genuinely disturbed.

"Good thing we ended their suffering then"

You: Zamasu!

---

"Beloved mortal"

You: Yeah?

"Your species was deeply concering"

You: ... You all commited genocide...

"That has nothing to do with this"

You: IT ABSOLUTELY HAS EVERYTHING TO DO!

The argument lasts 6 hours, nobody learns anything.

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