#Minor Worldbuilding

[thesoulesscollection]

In The Name Of Love & Betrayal

I apologize for the lack of interaction but I do hope you enjoy this even with a rare ship and odder plot. 

CopperRightVin (I may try to think of a different ship name for my sake 🤔 just so it won't be mixed up with CopperRightMin)

Tw/Tags: Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Double Agent Charles, Morally Ambiguous/Grey Charles, Ooc Charles (But for this it's in character if that makes sense?), Domestic Fluff, Minor Angst, & Plot/World Building Heavy(Ish)

From a day so prolonged, Charles is fatigued by the end of it. Within seconds, in a snap of the finger his life is altered drastically and he doesn't know what to ponder about it. Since then to now, tiredly slumped in the backseat to some luxuriant vehicle, he can't even use his brain, or even his body for that matter. 

"Look tired there?" In his haze Charles can hear the familiar accented voice up at the driver's seat. 

"Hmm, You don't look well, darling" A second, softer, smoother voice recalls. Gloved hands then cups his face that brought him to reality again. Past bleary eyes, which showed to be a momentary struggle for him to focus, saw a face looking genuinely concerned for his well being. "You should get some sleep, doll. We had a long day, didn't we, Right, dear?" Not too long after Charles did close his eyes, he barely hears the last conversation between the two men. Some he picks up on, either it relates to him and or the day that led them here, other topic pieces he ignores for the calmingly numb buzz sound in his head. 

"He should. Did so well for us earlier" 

With a broken little whine Charles can't help to preen at the glowing praise, "... I. Y-yeah… I did…" 

"You did. We're so proud. For putting all you knew on the line for us" Life as Charles ever known is uprooted, changed forever to which he can't back out on. 

"Never expect much outta you in the terms of a good strategy plan but that one worked out spectacularly" The driver, Right, says with a chuckle. 

"...They… Didn't know what hit them… I-it. It was amazing …" In between a yawn, Charles continues with them. Once he would've felt bad, still there's a nagging voice saying he should, although pushed back, he's actually expressing pure giddiness. "... You all. You should've seen their faces" He can picture them, no matter how he forced it to dissolve into a faint memory where it is permanently seared into his mind. The looks were an odd combination of shock, anger, sadness, and more importantly, betrayal, if they found out about his status.  

"Yes. We saw a few. They were utterly beside themselves in grief. They think you're dead" 

"... That's … Good" Decidedly Charles laid their head on the man's lap, curling into a tiny ball rather than bother an attempt to sleep in their stiff seat. "I should feel bad for them… I don't though…" Spoken softly in a hush, as if someone could hear them. Maybe that made the (ex) pilot a traitor in the law's eyes, in his old friend's viewpoint nevertheless he'll grow past it. 

"Eh' you shouldn't feel too bad for those dogs anyways" Right snidely remarks, earning a tutting noise from their partner. "You're back with the clan and us" 

"Yes. There's quite a few who miss you. We certainly do"

They cracked their eyes open a little, staring up at Reginald with a sullen expression when they replied, "Not exactly who I was referring to. I could care less, they saw me as a simple minded, naive fool they can use. You won't believe how many times I wanted to shoot them in their smug faces. Better yet crash the plane into the nearest building per my 'great plans' with them in it. Painfully ridiculous in what I had to deal with on a daily basis" 

While rambling on, Charles stops, sensing Reginald's fingers cautiously curl around his thick, white locs. "We know. So who do you mean then?" 

"There were these two people I was assigned to work with during my time with the military" Charles picked up, heavily exhausted, and he fought against it. "In order to take both you and the Toppats down" 

In the internal rear side mirror Charles saw Right perks a brow, suddenly curious. "You mean Stickmin and Ms. Rose?" His robotic eye turns a blazing red, and a scowl on his scruffy face. 

"Yes... A part of me does wish I could've told them. I knew better than to spill. It would've risked everything more than it already did. They were amazing in their skills" Charles sympathetically understood why he couldn't have at the time. His teammates, thinking he was their best friend, were regular, run of the mill thieves turning a brand new leaf for the government. 

Far too much a risk to his main cause. They were more trouble then what Charles thought their worth was to him. 

"You shouldn't miss them" Reginald took his turn to respond, looking rather bristled at the mere mention. "Likely they were only in it for themselves. They're a danger to the clan and I'm amazed we aren't totally inoperative" 

"I know. Still they were something" Charles sighs dismissively. 

"We're home. Finally" Right pipes up, curt, as he stops the car and exits. The back door is opened moments later, Charles stays put on Reginald's lap. A gentle persistent nudge at their sides keeps them awake, just barely. "It was a long ride for us. Do you need help?" 

"U-uh, no… No, I think I'm fine. I can handle it" 

Right hums, not believing a single word with Reginald helping the third party up and out the car. "You need it the most. Today was quite spoiled with excitement" He sleepily imagines Reginald fret over him. 

"Sure" He purrs, "I love a good tending to"

In one swift movement, Charles is swooped into the strong arms, obviously it was Right, cold metal earning a chilled shiver. Again he hears Reginald speak across his head to the man, the man's hands freely brushing a loc behind his ear. Well earned sleep came in a slow progression that is able to fully drown out his problems. Enough he for once could relax, to snuggle into the other's broad chest and notice in his daze they entering a house. Charles is met with a deeply intimate warmth seeping into their skin, soothes the aches in his body. A sleepy smile adorned their worn face, safe to be at ease, be with people he's known and loved for years..

[currentfandomkick]

Warning: this is a one-shot from me, feel free to add on.

Danny knew something had been off about Clockwork for a while. He also knew Ancients don’t get sick for no reason. So he did what he could to help the symptoms—iced rags for the growing fever, forced the ageshifter into the literal sands of time in the Long Now to keep him warm and calm the ever-chattering teeth. If this helped force Clockwork into not working and something equating sleep, that was between Clockwork and Nocturne.

Danny managed the timelines related to his home universe. If he dragged Dan into helping the more volatile ones as a cautionary tale, well. It was that or another session with Nocturne and Jazz about his feelings as the sole survivor of a tied off time knot.

Danny managed the butterfly affects and set up systems to alert him to when something was liable to harm a timebranch, and for possible timeknots. Detangling timelines was a tedious at best, but necessary to avoid time mattings. Those had to be destroyed and the timeline before the time matting diverted.

Dan was in charge of worst of the timeknots while Danny focused on preventing them. They were lucky to avoid any matts before Clockwork took a turn for the worse.

It started with a broken glass cough. Then he began to groan and thrash. Then Clockwork spewed what could only be described as ‘time juice’ that deaged him as Phantom but not Fenton.

Danny did not appreciate being a toddler again.

Dan said he wasnt adopting him if it was permanent before calling some shadow thing to help him cut off another timeknot and create another benign paradox loop.

Danny sat his toddler tail in front of his mentor and did the only thing he could think of: threaten him into confessing.

“Clocky,” he half sang, “if you don’t tell me what’s making you sick I’ll call Auntie Death and have her get all your exes meet at once.”

Clockwork glanced about the Long Now.

“… one of my, reflections shall we say(?), is badly injured.”

“Reflections?” phantom wrinkled his nose. “You mean mirror born?”

“No, more autonomous duplicates. They’ve all developed beyond what i needed initially. My own alternate developments, you could say.”

“So a not clone-clone is in trouble?” Danny leaned forward, tracing Clockwork’s eye scar with his eyes.

“It appears he was… indisposed until recently and awoke to a serious time matting.”

Phantom blanched at the thought of one of those. “And he can’t cut it off?”

“It appears he is in combat, and losing.” Clockwork shuddered violently for a moment. “Badly.”

Danny narrowed his eyes. Time mattings are beyond him, but he can save Clockwork’s reflection.

“Which timescreen do i go in to help?”

“Danny,” his mentor frowned. “You don’t have to—“

“I want to, fright means no one faces their thing on their own. So let me help.”

Clockwork muttered the time screen’s location.

Danny flew into the middle of a battle. Kronos was big, bad and obsession mad.

He did catch a few magic users and shot them with an ectoblast each.

He forgot his brain would catch up to his body’s deaging at some-point.

“Leave my daddy alone you buttheads!”

That did cause the colorful adults to turn around and look at him. He didnt care—his daddy was sick, really bad sick because a chunk of him went obsession mad because of how matted the timeline was and those are really bad and—and—

“How did a toddler get here!”

“When did Kronos have another kid?”

“Child, you are confused, your father did a bad thing and is being handled.” A woman with armor kind of like Mommy interrupted.

Then Daddy screamed.

Danny whipped his head back to Daddy. Daddy’s in a glowing circle snarling and scared and angry and—and these people hurt His Daddy!

The trenchcoat guy was chanting something and gold chains and Daddy was hurthurthurt.

“I said let my daddy Goooooo!” He wailed at trenchcoat.

The chanting stopped while the colorful meanies ran around and some green people put up bad shields.

“Daddy!” Danny flew up to this version of Daddy. “Daddy daddy daddy!”

Kronos hesitantly extended his large hand for Danny to land in.

“Other Daddy said you needed help an an i help! So can Perry-me since he does knot cuts an’ an other daddy’s all sick now an’ its real real bad! He has chest boogies an’ it got all on me an’ i’m little again but i know i’m supossed to be bigger than a big boy but not like,

An adult. Perry-me’s an adult and he’s like, a lot of sad and angry and Jazz says he needs the there-a-pee but i dont know what potty training has to do with his angeries. I think he need to do like, an ecto poo or something.”

Danny waited for this version of Daddy to say something.

“… which version of me do you belong to?” Kronos asked the boy incredulously. He glanced over the Justice League in the distance.


“He says you’re his, his re-flex-on”

Kronos eyed the speedsters responsible for the horrendous timematting that required a reset spanning back at least six generations to prevent. Possibly more for a thorough job well done.

“Origin then, i see.” Kronos returned his attention to the ghostling. “And why would he send you?”

“Daddy says i’m a hero but i think he’s trying to make up for my other mommy and daddy always forgetting me and that their stuffs want me on their, their wab, Wa, luh, lab. Lab! Words are hard.”

Kronos briefly debated killing the distraction. Or at least sending it away. That stupid bond to Origin getting in the way of fixing the clusterfuck that is his sector of the multiverse.

“Yes they are little one. Do you have any reason to stay here?”

“I help! We go to Perry-me and Other Daddy and they can fix it! Perry-me’s been covering for Daddy since he got sick. I make the, the portal and Perry-me’s good at fixing time problems where, where they start. Daddy’s good at listening an, an everyone de, deserves help so i help!”

Kronos glanced at the gathered Justice League with the Laughing Magician contest with… and the child before him both being outside of his omniscience.

Of course Origin would adopt the closest thing to the Laughing Magician in his sector.

“You’re not going to leave until i agree, are you?”

“Daddy is fright, and fright means no forgetting or ignoring or pretending the person isnt there and doesn’t need help or leaving them on their own when things are bad. And time matts are really, really bad!”

Kronos sighed. “Lead the way laughing magician.”

Kronos did give the Justice League a dark grin as they left in a portal the toddler clapped into being.

“Daddy! I found the hurt you! An’ it’s a, a super bad time matt! Worse than when Perry-Me killed the world!”

—

The Justice league stared at one another in horror after Superman finished relaying what the kid had said.

Kronos as his father is bad enough. There being multiple Kronos’s is worse. Then Kronos’ mystery kid having John Constantine’s inherited title and role as the laughing magician?

They are, in a word, fucked if the two return. And they will. Its only a matter of time.

Batman was twitching a storm while John downed his flask.

(Barry was oddly quiet.)

Time crisis

Clockwork looked sick, this was the first time Danny had witnessed something like this so he couldn't help but feel concerned for his mentor. However, no matter how many times he asked what was going on, the Ancient refused to answer.

The halfa was taking care of him and finally Clockwork revealed that he was under attack. Danny raised an eyebrow in confusion, he saw no one in Clock Tower and the Observants were not around, seeing his confusion the Master of Time explained himself more clearly.

Clockwork had multiple bodies, distributed in different dimensions. And while they didn't follow the same rules, their job was the same, "preserve the timelines". One of his other bodies must have sensed his timeline being altered multiple times and awoke from its rest to repair the error.

Someone must not have been happy about that, if the damage Clockwork was receiving was anything to go by. The Ancient had no doubt that if they kept attacking him they would cause him further damage, which would be a big problem for the timelines.

The reason he didn't want to tell the halfa that was because he knew Danny would want to help, but not all of his "parts" were good, nor did they have the same methods to "repair" and he didn't want to show the boy a bad part of himself. Although he doubted his other "self" would attack young Daniel, seeing how fond he was of him.

Danny of course, offered to solve the problem. Knowing the boy was stubborn, Clockwork sighed in resignation and opened a portal to the DC Universe, where the Justice League was facing Kronos, Danny stepped through the portal immediately and started running to the battlefield.

Wonder Woman was gritting her teeth in fury as she faced Kronos, who was scowling in annoyance, his gaze seemed to be fixed on the speedster for some reason; half of the League were injured but holding their ground, and John Constantine had almost finished preparing a spell to destroy the titan once and for all. He opened his mouth to tell the Titan it was his end when a teenage boy ran past him.

Danny, who had no idea what was going on, stood in front of Kronos not knowing what to say. He didn't quite know how to fix the situation. Kronos looked at him in confusion as John choked as he noticed the boy in the path of his spell.

"Fate is not inevitable" the halfa told the Titan decisively. While he had been a hero and understood why the people around him would want to "stop" the other Clocky, he didn't want to see his mentor die (even if this was some sort of clone? Danny didn't quite understand), he was selfish, and he knew the other Clocky had his reasons. He looked at the wounded on the battlefield and took a deep breath before looking at the Titan again.

"Come home with me and we'll find another way to solve it" Danny offered, ignoring the heroes glaring at him. Kronos was still silent, he knew he could kill the boy in seconds but something in him protested at the idea.

Danny wondered if he could lock the being in front of him in a Fenton thermos.

[wordsvomit101]

That awkward moment when you realized that your big bro got laid with the person you tried to kill.

Author Notes: Credits to @eternal_auditor & @jazeswhbhaven, I got this idea for this shameless worldbuilding headcanons for Heaven and Angels thanks to both of them and the latter's "Angel Bros Headcanons: Michael Flips" post. I also just want to write the scenario in general. Warnings: Raphael is a caution flag himself, depictions of violence, thoughts of brutalizing and eating someone (being directed at MC) by Raphael, a lot of name-calling from Raphael directed at MC

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(Heaven - Time of Councils and Assemblies)

In the tranquil embrace of Heaven, evening descends like a gentle caress, casting a soft golden hue upon the timeless realm. As the radiant sun dips below the horizon of ethereal clouds, the celestial landscape is bathed in hues of pink, orange, and purple, creating a breathtaking tapestry of colors that stretches across the vast expanse of the heavenly domain. The sky is like a canvas painted lovingly by the hands of God, with the colors of a thousand sunsets, each stroke a masterpiece of divine artistry. The clouds, like celestial brushstrokes, dance across the canvas, their forms ever-changing, their edges illuminated with an ethereal glow.

Amidst the celestial splendor, angelic beings gracefully glide through the sky upon the archways of purest gold span the thoroughfares of Heaven, their graceful curves reminiscent of angelic wings in flight. Beneath these archways lie crystal atriums, their transparent walls revealing the celestial wonders of Heaven in all their resplendent glory. Their iridescent wings shimmer with divine light, flying gracefully as if they dance and pirouette in ethereal ballets, painting radiant trails of luminescence across the sky.

The lower-ranking angels engage in celestial chorales, their melodious voices intertwining in harmonies that resonate throughout the Heaven. The soaring soprano of archangels blends seamlessly with the velvety alto of cherubim, weaving a symphony that would uplift the soul and transport the listener to realms of pure bliss. The music reverberates through the celestial expanse, like a cosmic symphony conducted to worship the Almighty.

For middle-ranking angels, their beloved duty during the Pilgrimage to the Mount of Revelation to commune with their dear creator has to be despairingly pushed to merely Contemplation of Sacred Texts and attending to the Halls of Eternal Wisdom, a lesser, but an honorable duty nonetheless.

Even higher above, amidst ethereal spires and resplendent palaces that grace the heavenly expanse, angelic artisans toil diligently within the Halls of Artistry. Their deft hands sculpt magnificent statues and weave intricate tapestries, each a testament to the wonders of creation. They yearn for the day when their divine creator will bestow upon them a glimpse of their artistry, even a millisecond of recognition for their unwavering dedication to him would be more than enough.

While other angels tend to the flourishing celestial flora in the Gardens of Eternal Bliss. Radiant blooms burst forth in a splendor of colors, their petals shimmering with an otherworldly luminescence. The angels nurture these heavenly gardens with love and care, a single damage to a petal of these beautiful flowers is enough to have their heads roll to the disgusting pit of Hell, however making a mistake in God's favorite garden is an even bigger sin.

It is a mundane day for all of them.

Bang!

"Sir-!"

Creak!

"AAAAAA-!"

Crunch!

"I have yet to finish my prayer-!"

Snap!

However, it wouldn't be a normal day if there wasn't a Raphael brutally tearing and eating fleshes of every angel on his path to the Chamber of Divine Counsel to meet with other Seraphs. His blood-caked shoes thundering over polished marble as he swaggers through the vaulted corridors of Heaven, his crimson-smeared wings unfurling like banners of carnage. Red marred his short blonde hair and white attire. With each wrathful step, he leaves a trail of dismembered angel carcasses, their alabaster feathers floating like ethereal snowflakes in his wake. His crimson eye fully emits an aura of violence and fury.

Thump!

Bursting into the Chamber of Divine Counsel with enough force to make the office tremble, the room was bathed in an ethereal glow, and the other Seraphs present, Gabriel and Michael, sat in their resplendent chairs, their expressions inscrutable. Raphael's form, however, drenched in the gore of his victims, stood in stark contrast to the pristine surroundings. He only has one thought of personally feasting upon that purple hair wench's flesh when she is still alive and making her watch herself being devoured alive and cut off her tongue so she couldn't even voice out her pain.

"Why... Why is it always her...! That bitch!"

The pure white chairs, crafted from the finest celestial ivory, bore the brunt of his rage, splintering and crumbling under his kicks. Yet Gabriel and Michael, their faces devoid of emotion, paid him little attention.

"If you insist on throwing a tantrum, I implore you to do so in a realm more suited to such sorrowful displays. Hell would accommodate your temperaments more appropriately."

Michael stood tall over the intricately designed long table with a mindmap and countless brainstorming notes. Standing in a place Brother Lucifer used to stand in each council meeting. His glare locked on the furious blonde seraph before him. A frown, as if carved in stone, creased his handsome face, adding an air of solemnity to his prideful demeanor. Around his neck, a regal purple choker, embellished with ornate gold rings and shimmering gemstones, encircled his throat. At its center, a prominent gold ring held a solemn cross pendant, its gentle clinking accompanying his every movement.

In a swift motion, Michael tilted his head to the left, displaying effortless grace as he dodged the flying chair hurtling towards him at high speed. The chair collided with the wall, its impact leaving a deep dent in the panel, a testament to the force behind the throw.

"Shut that shitty mouth of yours! Maybe try to go down there yourself to ask why our dear brother is entertaining trash!" As Raphael spoke, his voice trembled with anger and frustration, his words dripping with venomous accusation. A few veins already popped on his crazed, striking appearance. Filled with unrepressed anger that led him to kill his spies who reported to him and fly from the dungeon up here.

Yet Michael continued to look at his notes, his face blissfully indifferent. His right hand continued to write on many of his papers on the white table.

"He has simply strayed from the right path."

Brother Lucifer’s footstep-less feet headed for the vile tiny red devil.

'Stop it.'

However, he couldn't say the same about his head. Memories he had been trying to wipe from his mind for years served only to haunt him. Taunting him of the gut-wrenching event more than a hundred years ago.

In the silence, pure white hands pushed through the grass and preciously held up the rotten red thing.

'Don't dirty your hands.'

His brother stroked that thing's body so softly with his hands so similar to how he once did with Michael's face. Those strong, beautiful hands that once held his face so tenderly to wipe his tears away. As he placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

'Brother...'

"I remain confident in my ability to guide him back to the right path." 

His brother's hand was holding Michael’s ray of light. The light in Brother Lucifer’s hand had stopped in front of the disgusting beast's chest, unable to advance further. He was again protecting worthless things that didn't deserve his grace.

'Why did you save it?!'

When his brother finally stood before Michael on his third step, black energy, not white, began to flow from his body.

'No-NononononoNONO-'

From his beloved brother’s head, the gorgeous head of the Morning Star, bright red horns that were the same color as the vile thing that tempted him began to grow.

'Brother- Brother Lucifer please!'

"You shall witness it in due time."

"I love you, my brother. Which is why I will give you one last chance. Return."

Crack!

The force of Michael's left hand left a massive crack in the opulent crystal marble table that trailed down to the other end of it. Effectively bringing clarity back to Raphael as the blonde gazes at Michael's hard knuckle gripping the table painfully, ignoring the blood pooling down to the marble floor and further dirtying the former pristine chamber.

Michael's abrupt actions were met with an air of knowing silence from the two. It wouldn't be far-fetched if they possessed a secret understanding of his motivations that would elude outsiders.

"Hmph," a scoff rang out and pierced the silence of the room, originating from the slender man with platinum blonde hair seated to Michael's right. His face, though classically handsome with a pale complexion, remained stoic and emotionless, belying the arrogance that dripped from the single syllable he uttered.

"Then you better live up to those words."

Gabriel's lean was a graceful movement, his body sinking into the chair as if it were a throne. His arms crossed over his chest, the crisp white of his shirt contrasting sharply with the gleam of the gold chain that adorned his white jabot ruffle shirt. The fabric of his sleeves rustled softly against the delicate filigree, creating a symphony of subtle sounds that echoed through the silent room. His eyes, deep and enigmatic, surveyed the scene before him, his expression a mixture of amusement and quiet contemplation.

"Furthermore, even in his current state, Brother Lucifer still demonstrates a reverence for God. It is conceivable that his actions are merely a symptom of his yearning for God's divine presence."

In this timeless realm, where Gabriel proudly proclaims to reign supreme as the epitome of seraphic obedience, there exists but one for whom he would willingly surrender his esteemed position: Brother Lucifer. The firstborn of God's creations, Brother Lucifer's devotion to his Maker surpassed all others, earning him the title of Morning Star. His brilliance illuminated the heavens, casting an unrivaled radiance that even Gabriel's wings could not obscure.

It was Brother Lucifer who instilled within the celestial choirs the rituals and observances that expressed their gratitude to the Almighty. Yet amidst his unwavering piety, Brother Lucifer adhered to a solitary discipline known only to himself. Only a select few had glimpsed this secret regimen, elusive even to those who had followed his every step for countless eons.

Solitary would not be said without Brother Lucifer's name being attached to the word. He found solace in his own construction of hallowed sanctuaries. These Majestic Temples of Worship at odd places in Heaven served as his solitary refuge, where he could commune with the divine without the distractions of others. His devotion ignited a spark in other angels, who, inspired by his example, crafted Halls of Artistry. They sculpted countless colossal statues of the Almighty, their grandeur exceeding the limits of mortal imagination.

No one dared step one foot into his havens, they were for Brother Lucifer alone, and death would be upon those who broke that unspoken rule.

Yet there were times he allowed Gabriel to join him during Celestial Meditation in the secluded Garden of Eternal Reflection, a sacred sanctuary hidden deep within the heart of Heaven. Here, amidst the fragrant blossoms and tranquil pools, Brother Lucifer let Gabriel join his silent meditation and prayers. It was one of the highlights of Gabriel's day when his brother was still around.

"Not if he is messing with the descendant of Solomon."

Raphael's voice now had the former rage in it that reminded him of what he came here for, to be in these two insufferable presences. He could barely believe it when one of his spies uttered those words out of their useless mouth. That Lucifer? The Morning Star? His brother who despises Solomon as much as any other angel and the one that would bite another head off if they recklessly touched him even in the rendezvous night at the sacred Eternal Flame at the heart of Heaven where they allowed themselves to let loose for a bit?

It sounds fucking unbelievable, but when they show him a picture of that purple-haired vixen bumping parts with his brother, it sends him off the reels. He kills most of the spies and storms out of his favorite dungeon to here.

"Pardon?" Michael's mismatched eyes bulged, his neck creaking and twitching as he stared up at Raphael in a frenzy of incomprehension, his falsely composed display gone. The mere hint of the truth was liable to send the black-haired Seraph into a rampage and murder them all.

"Are you suggesting..." Gabriel's face, previously etched in stoicism, crumbled into a mask of horror. He couldn't believe the words that had escaped Raphael's lips, but he couldn't shake the realization that was slowly creeping upon him. He desperately wished that the words that came out of Raphael's mouth were nothing more than a cruel jest, but the look in his eyes said otherwise.

"I said, he's with the descendant of Solomon, that purple-haired harlot...that traitor....that cheat- That tempting trash!"

It pissed Raphael off even more as he raised his voice volume, veins now appearing on his throat, especially at the reminder of his text with that two-timer. The sheer self-satisfied energy radiating off his phone screen almost makes him fly down to Hell to choke that bitch until her brain pops out of her head himself.

"This is preposterous...impossible..." Michael's jaw hung slack, his eyes wide with disbelief as Raphael's accusations cut through the air like a madman who had just been cheated on. His normally steady stance faltered, replaced by a palpable sense of hysteria that made his body tremble. He stumbled backward, his back colliding with the cold, unforgiving wall as if seeking solace from the onslaught of emotions that threatened to consume him. The wall provided no comfort, its smooth surface a stark contrast to the turmoil raging through his body.

"I'm not joking. I heard her talking about Lucifer, his scar, his... 'thing'," The mere mention of his beloved brother's private part sends shivers down his spine as his voice quivered. The thought of that conniving bitch taking full advantage of the trust Brother Lucifer had placed in her made his blood boil with simmering rage. And that she dared to go against her promise to him as if those moments they shared in the poisonous sky of Hell meant nothing.

"She knows his exact measurements!- You know what, look at this shit yourself!" With a resounding slam that echoed through the room like a thunderclap, he unveiled the damning evidence: a collection of photographs frozen in time, capturing moments of intimate interaction between Lucifer and the individual in question.

The images fell upon the table with a heavy thud, causing the fragile surface to tremble under the weight of their revelation. Despite the force of impact that threatened to shatter the fragile table beneath them, the pictures remained intact, their unspoken truth radiating from their glossy surfaces like a painful revelation begging to be acknowledged.

Michael's face contorted with a ghastly twitch as if he were attempting to conjure laughter, but the sound that escaped his lips was more akin to a hollow echo in the thick, suffocating atmosphere. "Shut up," his mind struggled to piece together the unthinkable truth that lay sprawled before him like a macabre revelation. Denial, a feeble shield against the onslaught of evidence, crumbled before the weight of reality, leaving him quaking.

"I swear before Thrones of Heavenly Majesty I will make her rue the day she even touched him. She corrupted him and brought him over to the side of temptation. God would never-" As Gabriel's solemn vow echoed through the room, the air crackled with the intensity of his conviction, thick with the gravity of impending retribution for the sinner.

His words struck a nerve, exacerbating Michael's fraying composure. The gravity of the situation bore down upon him like a suffocating weight, his anger bubbling to the surface in fervor.

"FUCKING SHUT UP! IT'S NOT REAL! IT'S NOT REAL!" Michael's voice cracked with anguish and insanity, his outburst sending shockwaves through the chamber. In his distress, the chamber was engulfed in an inferno, casting eerie shadows that danced upon the walls. In the distance, the echo of Michael's despair mingled with the desperate prayers and curses of those trapped within the blazing office. The once-orderly chamber had become a scene of utter chaos and destruction.

"O, Almighty Creator," Gabriel's voice trembled with urgency, his words a fervent entreaty to the absent God above. "Grant us clarity in this hour of darkness, illuminate our path with Your divine light."

Meanwhile, Gabriel's attempts at prayer offered little solace as he grappled with the implications of Raphael's revelations.

His murmurs grew more frantic with each passing moment, a desperate attempt to find solace in the face of unsettling truths. "Guide us through this tempest, O Lord, for we are adrift in a sea of uncertainty. Let Your wisdom be our compass, and Your mercy our salvation."

But despite his fervent appeals, only shrieks and flames answer back, echoing throughout Heaven from the burning chamber they're in.

"She said she'd only do that with me..." Raphael’s voice cracked with bitterness, each word laced with venomous resentment. His fingers curled into fists, nails digging into his palms as he fought to contain the seething anger threatening to consume him whole. "...she lied...she lied..."

The weight of betrayal hung heavy in his heart, suffocating him with its oppressive presence. Raphael's chest heaved with each labored breath, his heart aching with the sting of betrayal. "Fucking cheater..." His words dripped with venom, the bitterness of betrayal poisoning his soul.

With a primal snarl, Raphael's control shattered like glass, shards of rage cutting deep into his consciousness. He lashed out blindly, his teeth sinking into the flesh of a passing stupidly brave angel that came to check on the three Seraphs, the taste of blood a bitter reminder of his own foolishness.

"I hate her..." The words escaped his lips in a guttural growl, each syllable dripping with raw fury. His grip tightened around the angel's trembling form, nails digging into flesh as he sought to vent his pent-up rage on an unwitting victim.

"I'm not sloppy seconds..." Raphael's voice cracked with rage, his crimson eyes ablaze like a firestorm. He tore into the angel's flesh with savage ferocity, his actions a grotesque display of his inner turmoil. "...I'm no side bitch!"

Boom!

— — — — — — — — — — — — — —

"Hm?", in the dim recesses of his grandiose office, Lucifer, who was engrossed in his craftsmanship of carving the statue of the divine, lifted his gaze from his artistic endeavor by the sudden but subtle yet discernible disturbance in the island above the sky of Hell.

His pure white eyes shimmered with an otherworldly glow. Despite the plaster and pigments that adorned his once-pristine garments save for his bloody back that had his broken wings. His form radiated a timeless beauty, marred only by the grim expression on his handsome visage.

The sensation he felt was like a creeping up from above, like a ripple in the placid waters of a celestial lake.

'What are those three getting angry at right now?'

Raon, who was perched upon the plush velvet couch that adorned his office, her tall form immersed in the pages of an ancient tome, looked up swiftly at Lucifer's voice, a rare occurrence after hours of silence.

Once she raised her gaze from the text, her curious eyes meeting Lucifer's form with silent inquiry. Normally, she would wait until Lucifer is willing to tell her what is on his mind, but currently, she is bored and needs a break after reading several magic grimoires Lucifer gave her and practicing with them for almost a whole day.

'Let's just hope he will at least give me a short answer.'

"Um, Lucifer, is there something wrong?" Raon's voice, soft and tentative, carried a note of concern as she awaited his response, her gaze fixed unwaveringly upon him.

Lucifer's answer was measured, his words carrying the weight of foreboding. "I feel there's a disturbance. There would be a storm soon," he left out the part that it was most likely his brothers being angry about something again.

"Is it related to the angels?" Yet the young woman still managed to catch onto the hidden message, her question not directed at ordinary angels but at his brothers as she nervously tightened her grip on her grimoire.

Lucifer nodded solemnly. "Very likely," he confirmed. His gaze remained fixed on the distant horizon but his voice relaxed to ease the lady's tension as he contemplated the unfolding events in the celestial realm.

"Oh, then I will get back to my training-", with a subtle shift of his form, he turned his attention back to Raon, his gaze meeting hers with a serene intensity as he stood up to clean himself with a swipe of his finger. He tidied himself with a cleaning spell and put his tools and statues back into their orderly places without doing so himself physically—a casual display of his magic that Raon wishes to get to one day.

"It's fine," Lucifer assured her, his tone gentle yet authoritative. "Let's take a rest. Care to join me for a walk to the observatory room?" Quietly, he held out his right arm for her to hold on to if she wanted to accompany him.

Raon's heart fluttered at the invitation, her breath catching in her throat as she struggled to contain her excitement. "Really? I-I mean, of course! Please lead the way." Her words spilled forth in a rush of eagerness, her eyes shining with anticipation as she rose from her seat and she excitedly but carefully walked over to Lucifer's spot.

As Raon raised her gaze, a silent query lingering in her eyes, she studied the handsome devil's countenance for the slightest hint of unease. Finding none, she shyly reached out and clasped his arm, a silent agreement passing between them. Together, they embarked on a leisurely stroll, the pace unhurried yet purposeful.

Lucifer, typically swift in his movements, slowed his steps to accommodate Raon, pausing whenever she expressed a desire to linger and marvel at the exquisite white blossoms that adorned Paradise Lost, a sight reserved only for the privileged few. The air was filled with a sense of tranquility and reverence as they meandered through the garden, each step bringing them closer to their destination, yet allowing them to savor the beauty that surrounded them. Unbothered by the chaos that is currently exploding in Heaven.

[zal-cryptid]

Well now I've gotta ask what kinda life the person transformed into a ViewMaster's got nowadays.

A difficult one. There isn't a lot he can physically do, and he relies on others to help him with daily activities. That's something a certain protagonist is gonna have to learn - everyone relies on each other in Toyland. Everyone has their handicap.

[ask-mobile-iterator-project]

Asking all what are your opinions on the Ancients?

[BROADCAST HANDLED BY ADMIN AND OVERSEERS]

admin notes

firstly: thank you @cloverlady and @charlottenanachi for helping me with coloring!! and @fauxbia for helping with the writing :D

This is ask #30, wowie!! I've made a couple (3) Activation Logs I'll be posting in the next few days!! There was a comic I was working on, too, but idk when that'll be done, sorry...

I don't have Activation logs for all of them on the Askblog because I feel the first three explore what I want to share right now well enough. Hopefully you guys like LOF, PU, and SLS

In the meantime, I've also updated ToyHouse bios slightly, mostly surrounding relationships.

Also, I plan to open a Discord Server focused on my OC AU very soon!! It'll be 16+, though, due to subject matter. That being said, here is another reminder to check the content warnings!! The more lorestuff I post, the more I'll be getting into sensitive and upsetting subject matter...

and once again, "architect" is just the in-universe term for "ancient."

[liesmyth]

All your TLT posting is making me questioning if I should try it.. The only thing i'm worried is that I don't want to start a series and then finding out in the third bookthat the author made the antiheroic genderbent mao protagonist throw the metaphorical atomic bomb on the japanese because the author is an american descendent of a Chang Kai Shek general and wanted to absolve the yankees to grant herself a career (it worked greatly). So should i still try TLT as an olde commie? Love your blog btw, please continue reblog all those TLT fan art they look great! Thanks!

whew lowkey glad I couldn't get past the first book in that other series. anyway *clears throat*

If you like LESBIANS, Locked Tomb is the fandom for you. If you like BONES and FAILWOMEN and ARE ANGRY AT GOD, Locked Tomb is the fandom for you. If you like BAD JOKES and SHITTY MEMES, we have those in spades. If you love EXCELLENT FANART and DIVORCES that last TEN THOUSAND YEARS and LOCKED ROOM MURDER MYSTERIES, if you think EVIL COUGARS are SEXY, if you think PLUTO totally COUNTS as a PLANET, Locked Tomb is the fandom for you!!!!

[here's the rest of the tlt manifesto on ao3, podficced by @/wilfriede ]

On a serious note! I think TLT is definitely informed by leftist politics, and it has many themes that lend themselves to juicy interpretations on top of a really meaty worldbuilding and characterisation. Also the fanart SLAPS. And if you read the books you can check out my fics which, not to brag, are some of the weirdest I've ever written! featuring such tropes as: "bodyswapped man sucks his own dick" "vagina dentata" "ritual sex to have a baby during a mass death event" "in-universe academia" and "orphan girl meets her parents for the first time and they suck"

tldr please read the locked tomb <3

[butterflysnowflake]

new Wolf thoughts just dropped

so something that occurred to me last night- in the wedding scene, after being unfrozen, Wolf offers a selfie with Lydia and Astrid and poses and everything, only to look a lil disappointed when they don't seem interested (and why would they be? Lydia was a Mario Bava stan and cop movies were probably the last thing she'd ever watch). The poster behind his desk in his office is very heavily implied to be the one from the movie he died making, based on the foreboding tagline, the suit he's wearing on it (same one he's wearing in the afterlife) and, as @one-fancy-flapjack pointed out, his pose showing the non-injured side of his face.

Going off the design style/fonts it's very likely from the 1980s, which puts his death date way before the existence of smartphones or even cell phones.

So the incredible implication I'm getting here is that 1. there wound up being in universe, a whole Frank Hardballer fandom, whether genuine or ironic, well into the 2010s, which makes sense! either people watched them on TV, were introduced to them by their parents, or had cult midnight movie sessions, 2. big enough that people coming into the Afterlife during the smartphones era ran into him with their skullphones or whatever the punny term for them there is and begged him for a selfie and 3. at some point, someone (probably Janet bless that patient woman's soul) had to explain the concept of a selfie to him for the first time.

and this old dork LOVES it and will offer one any chance he gets because he's nothing if not good to his fans. it's really sweet the fact he must have a decent ongoing fandom in the afterlife and the knowledge that even after he left the world of the living, people were enjoying his movies.

[lord-squiggletits]

Wanted to send an ask as well to hopefully provide some distraction from…recent events.

Are there any parts of world building in the TF IDW universe that you wish were explored/expanded upon more? Or that you want to explore in your writing? Like certain aspects of pre-war Cybertron, cybertronian culture, post-war Cybertron, etc?

Okay this is actually perfectly timed for a rant I wanted to go on about the way mnemosurgery is written in IDW1 because I hate how JRO basically made it an ontologically evil field of medicine both intrinsically and in terms of the average person who does it, like

First of all I want to preface this by saying I'm not accusing JRO of having any particular beliefs, this is just my commentary on how things came off and how his writing style contributes to both virtues and flaws in his writing. So I might say "he's basically saying this" but in the sense of "unfortunate implications, accidental or purposeful, in his writing."

But like... it makes me so mad because the worldbuilding around mnemosurgery kind of makes no sense to me? It seems like a really fucking wasted opportunity to cast basically every mnemosurgeon in the continuity as evil and to make it so that even just doing mnemosurgery is basically a toxic, destructive act that will literally kill you? Honestly, I don't think JRO even came up with mnemosurgery as like, "here's a thing that exists in this world and how it works" so much as, he took a character-first approach to writing (as he always does) and wrote mnemosurgery to work whatever way would work best for Chromedome and other character-related conflicts and plot points.

Like, mnemosurgery can view/alter memories from a living person but from a dead person it can only get moments from right before death. Makes sense. Mnemosurgery slowly kills you every time you do it??? Uh... honestly that comes off more as a handwave to make it so that any time the LL needs information they can't just needle it straight out of whoever's mind they need bc of course Chromedome can only do it when it's really important after all. Mnemosurgery... is only ever used for brainwashing people? Like, literally every mnemosurgeon except Chromedome is evil (and cartoonishly so, for Trepan and Sunder, like literally unredeemable monsters in every way) and any time they actually enjoy their field of medicine it's bc they're a sadist that likes to manipulate and oppress people? Kind of... uncreative.

Mnemosurgery is ADDICTIVE?? You're addicted to needling people's brains because mnemosurgery is ontologically evil and then it literally kills you? Okay like... do I even need to explain how tone-deaf it is to incorporate addiction of all things into the worldbuilding here? "You're an addict which makes you dangerous to society. The good ones stop doing the addictive thing because they're morally strong/care about others/aren't hedonists, but the bad ones who only care about doing their drug of choice are evil because the fact that they don't quit shows that they don't care about other people and OF COURSE the main/only fate that awaits addicts is their inevitable death by their own addiction!" Like, we get enough of that shit in real life, JRO. Did you really have to take an already heavily stigmatized condition like ADDICTION and slap it onto your ontologically evil mnemosurgery where the evil ones are evil because they love abusing/manipulating people and don't care enough about dying to stop being addicted to mnemosurgery? Come the fuck on.

Like, I understand that "the science of studying/altering memories" is heavily laden with nightmare fuel as is, and I don't have a problem with that (and stuff like the Institute) because the mind/memories are an intrinsic part of personhood, so any scientific field around it (or any government that wants to sponsor it) will abuse that knowledge just like with any other field of medicine. But to use human examples, why the fuck does mnemosurgery have to be inherently evil? What about stuff like Alzheimer's that degrades ppl's memories to the point of not even remembering a few seconds ago? Wouldn't it be beautiful if mnemosurgery could help with that? What about psychological issues where maybe people with intense PTSD/trauma/etc could have their worst memories be removed/dulled so that they become mentally stable enough for psychiatric/therapeutic interventions to become effective? What if someone has a TBI and wants help recovering the memories they lost?

What about non-scary, non-medicinal applications of mnemosurgery? What if someone just really treasures the memory of a particular day with their best friend and visits a mnemosurgery every couple years so that information creep doesn't slowly alter their memories of that precious day? What if it was possible for mnemosurgeons to intensify memories, so that maybe someone could have a happy memory intensified and think of it any time they're sad, struggling, having mental health struggles, etc? What if mnemosurgeons could take/copy memories from people's brains and convert them to video format in a way that other people could watch it? Imagine the sheer potential present in that when it comes to preserving history through literal firsthand testimonials of what happened! What if a mnemosurgeon could transfer memories from one person to another-- what kinds of breakthroughs in empathy, communication, and understanding others could happen if you could LITERALLY see a conflict from another person's perspective? In those ways, mnemosurgeons would basically be able to act as a hybrid of doctor, psychologist, diplomat, mediator, and archivist all in one!

But no... instead we just got "Mnemosurgery is evil and pretty much only used for brainwashing, 99.8% of all mnemosurgeons are evil creeps, oh by the way it's also addicting and will literally kill you if you do it too much." SMFH.

[dragonji]

guys I cant keep lying by omission I do Have to say . it's not that I dont ship qyz with anyone its literally just that I do Nawt like seeing him with yy to be so honest with you

[ellatamara]

Some more deities from my homebrew dnd setting. These are known as the elemental elder gods and have been involved in some big lore drops recently.

In my setting, there are 20 triangular artifacts like the faces of a d20 bound to 20 planes: 16 outer planes and 4 elemental planes. These deities are the first stewards of the elemental planes' faces.

Ontogwi was given stewardship of the face of water. They decided not to touch or use the domain, and because he is its first steward, no one else can claim it without him touching it first. Despite this, he still grants divine magic to her followers, powers of healing, moonlight, and water bending. Ontogwites also don't believe in death as a concept.

Karadris was given stewardship of the face of air. Then she fucking ate it >:)

Doshaera was given stewardship of the face of earth. To prevent others from claiming the domain, she broke it into many pieces and scattered it across the world, hidden deep underground. Eventually, its shards started making their way into dwarven vaults and dragon lairs.

Thalaar was given stewardship of the face of fire. Being prideful, he displayed his artifact in the light of the sun, where it was sealed for millennia before a group of adventurers in the fire plane managed to bring it down, immediately leading to a fight over who should have it. It was claimed by the vampire Nauron.

Om nom

my players are probably wondering how the Crimson Coven acquired this tasty triangle ^

[wolfsbaneandthistle]

The sapient species of Enith. I want to do individual posts for each species, but idk when I’d get around to that.

Corldaxians (pronounced Corl-dax-ee-ans) are the most common, and are certainly the ones that have the easiest time in space. Kielni (kee-el-nee) are also very common, and many space stations- though not as many spaceships- are made to fit them. For most of Enith’s history Kielni regularly hunted Corldaxians. Both inhabited the same islands, both used the large rainforest plants as shelter, and Common Corldaxians are the right size to be easy prey for Kielni. Needless to say the social and religious repercussions of this are wild. Radraki Corldaxians were also hunted by Kielni, if less often, due to Radrakis living mostly in plains and Kielni preferring rainforests.

Taysya (Tay-s-yah) are the largest of the space-fairing species, and didn’t regularly hunt any other sapient species on Enith. They were mostly oceanic, flying long distances like albatross, so they fed on primarily fish. They did spend time on land, but did so mostly in the deserts of the drier islands. This, combined with their strange language, made them a mystery to the other sapients until well into the final dark ages. Present-day they are dramatically better known, with some Taysya-class ships and space stations allowing them to travel the stars with their sibling sapients.

Tarahsit (t-air-rah-sit) sure do exist. They’re entirely oceanic, so they are unable to join the others in space. They’re isolation and their languages being even stranger than the Taysya’s made them virtually unknown as sapient until even after the final dark ages. But today they are fairly well documented, and are included in Enithian society to the extent that they can be.

There is… another species that is currently being debated as sapient. But five sapient species coming out of Enith is already ridiculous, how could there be sixth?

[furiarossa]

Danny Runner - Updates

Update #2 for the Danny Runner website! A lot of characters are still missing (there are a lot that we have to re-design and upload, yup), but we updated the info, a lot of links, some worldbuilding and... uh... there are a couple of technical issues, but you could start to enioy the site too!

Also, since we explore it through the screen of a laptop, if you have a tablet or a smartphone, could you please tell us if the stuff is visible and if links work? Thanks in advance!

[stranger-trails]

three more of these!

major gods

mortals and magic

[runawaymun]

i really need to do a post about how Rivendell is run at some point

[ask-mobile-iterator-project]

[BROADCAST HANDLED BY ADMIN]

admin note: I got a little carried away with this one. it was just rlly fun to draw LOF like this lol

also this was a question someone submitted to me on discord bc they dont have a tumblr uhhh this wont be the standard but i made an exception bc it was too good not to answer

[wardensantoineandevka]

the most important thing we learned in Midst 3.04: Foundation is that stormwater management significantly includes a series of interior street fountains and other water features after filtering the rainwater

I'm in particular excited about that, given I was posting the other week wondering what stormwater management looked like