#an eldritch horror perhaps

[drowningparty]

I just think the polite, well-behaved young man who secretly enjoys murdering people with his bare hands and gouging their eyes out and the blood-splattered god who delights in carnage and gleefully exploding people with his mind should, hand in unloveable hand, embrace their primal rage, become avatars of the slaughter together, and be deliriously happy for all of 2 seconds before one of them invariably kills the other. and it would be a real coin toss who dies first

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

i see a lot of interpretations of zor being this otherworldly, anomalous presence- larger than life, practically non-human. and i, too, like perceiving zor through this veil of anonymity. i think making them too tangible or perceivable really detracts from what's been established about their character.

but, i personally really, really like the thought of zor being human. mortal. but terrifying to the point where you'd be forgiven for forgetting it.

i think one of the things that i adored about ieytd before the third game dropped (and honestly made me a little disappointed when it was changed later on) was the fact that the agency never had a face. it just... was what it was. it had facets- granted, the EOD was always the only one of any relevance. but, really, think about what we know about the agency between all three games. compare that to how much we know about zoraxis.

there's something really appealing to me about zor being who they are... they're probably the most wealthiest person on earth. they had a monopoly that quite literally gripped the world in their first- as their emblem would suggest. they hire some of the most lethal minds in the world- chemists, inventors, engineers.

and yet... despite it all, they're just one person. to me, their anonymity is a shield against the fact they are a person. they hide behind the lethality and prowess of their elite operatives- not to mention we've seen how clever they can be when it came to manipulating prism. they're by no means useless.

but what would they be without their anonymity? what would they be without the weapons they didn't design, the lairs they didn't build, the employees they use as human shields? the second zor is gone, zoraxis crumbles. they are the support pillar of their entire corporation.

... but what's the agency's equivalent? even post morales being a character, can we be certain that he's the glue holding the entire organization together?

think about zoraxis' most lethal schemes. seizing control of the world's atomic weaponry. striking targets anywhere on earth's surface with a giant laser. exploding the brain of every telekinetic agent on the planet. are they really seeking to cause as much damage as possible- to the agency specifically, collateral, or otherwise?

or do they not know where to strike. zor's tactic- for as high the stakes have been escalating- has always carried a similar motif. cleave and strike indiscriminately until the threat is neutralized.

but it never works. zor is lashing at a hydra- sprouting new heads where the old ones have been lopped off. they don't seem aware of how to destroy the agency other than exterminating each and every one of them off the face of the earth, in whatever way is most convenient at the moment.

i just think there's something to be said about zoraxis- and by extension, zor- always being seen as this oppressive, near-otherworldly force, constantly applying pressure on phoenix... when for all we know, zoraxis could be perceiving the agency in the exact same light.

zor, ultimately, has one beating heart. the agency has thousands. and all of them are dispensable.

[mad-hunts]

[roxannepolice]

So I was thinking of the answer for one of the ask games (which is coming!) but soon realised my reflections are both too long and slightly too salty to include in a fun ask, so here we are.

Because yeah what is below is hands down my favourite Delgado!Master quote, and one of my favourites from any regenerations. Hell, it may be one of my favourites in the entire show.

Gifs by cleowho and I'm sorry I ended up including them this way but I gave up trying to find the exact moment via gif searcher when my phone started smelling of burnt plastic.

So why do I love this so much and why should this result in saltiness? Because this is a very clear statement: there's actual philosophical outlook on the universe behind the Master's villainy. A deeply nietzschean one, but ironically enough underlying much of contemporary critical theories, usually of the progressive vibe. The Master apparently sees power relations as the inherent, fundamental aspect of all sentient relations, and acts accordingly, doing onto others before they do onto them (And that [a self-defence in advance] is how the Master started). And I don't even see it as a neurotic reaction to direct abuse! No, this is something much more intellectual, frozen and abstract. The salt lies therein that there is nothing "just..." to the outlook the Master presents here. Those aren't daddy issues, or the drums (which I love and think can be reconciled with classic Who canon with a bit of timey wimey cause and effect grandfather paradox shenanigans, but fundamentally don't see as the source of Master's villainy, unless they are a metaphor of permanent unsatisfaction and indeed neurotic need for more which is on the one hand awfully difficult for one and everyone around them but on the other perhaps underlie everything you are and you don't know what you'd be without it but you actually like at least a bit of what you are and this is very narcissistic and yes I have OCD), or getaway of insanity, there is no cheap psychologizing, no never heard the music, no Doctor complex that just needs to be talked through, only actual outlook presumably built on decades if not centuries of experience. That is not to say those psychological elements aren't essential to the Master's choices, just that there is no simple obstacle to overcome, no freudian complex to solve for them to see the light. This is something much more conscious.

And I can't express how fitting it is that this nietzscheanism should be the "dark twin" of the Doctor's philosophy of fixing everything they can - in its extreme taking on the form of prometheanism. Frankly, probably the reason Thoschei gives me such a brainrot is the idea of two people with very similar backgrounds (compare and contrast with Professor X and Magneto's backgrounds) arriving at universal outlooks that are at the same time so morally opposing yet in a way fundamentally similar. Because is not overcoming all possible pains of the universe an expression of will?

And the best part? The Doctor does not refute the Master's philosophy! He rejects it morally, but does not point to any single fallacy, does not overthrow it intellectually! And then...

... And then there's the reason I see Tensimm as Goethe's Faust to Threegado Marlowe's (that is not in terms of one being superior or sth only one being a logical development and discussion with the other). At a first glance, Ten is simply repeating what Three said all those episodes ago. But there's more, and there's no way I'm risking my phone again, so a quote will have to suffice.

To have the privilege of seeing the whole of time and space. That's ownership enough.

Ownership. As in having discretion to dispose of something as pleased? As in a very simple power relation?

Like. Wow. This here is indeed a Prometheus whose desire to make people better and literal knowledge of all possible pasts and futures pushed him to call some people more important than others and superimpose his will and knowledge of good and evil disregarding anyone else's choices. This here is indeed the Time Lord Victorious. And yes, knowing when to stop was much easier when there was an external shadow to judge.

The thing is, the Doctor here concedes to the Master's outlook on the universe. Indeed, power relations are unavoidable in sentient life. This is a moment of deep understanding between them because the Doctor now knows what it feels like to wield all that knowledge and perceive no powers saying no. Except, regardless of what poststructuralism might say, there is a fundamental moral difference between power imbalance of seeing vs being seen and y'know, forcing people to build you statues and conquering all other civivlizations and humiliating them in the process. As such, the difference becomes much harder to delineate, forcing one to always reflect instead of following a set of simple guidelines.

The question is, would it still be remembered if the walking counterpoint ceased to exist not physically but intellectually and morally?

[mishkakagehishka]

in my mind you are 10’3 (312cm) or 4’7 (140 cm) and there is no in between.

You are either an eldritch horror forest entity who was given a phone or the local peculiar fella who was also given a phone.

CRYING

[moonlightmirrorball]

reblog to welcome the horrors into 2023

[raskies456]

in news that surprises no one who knows me, I think John Hunger is pretty cool

[gild-ui]

"All right, love?"

"Simon, the fuck is this?"

"Wanted a pet, yeah?"

"A pet, yeah. This?" A pathetic thing. A bundle of fur covered in dirt and grime and stunk up the flat worse than the dead mouse from a month ago. "This is no bloody pet!"

He'd come home from a deployment with a shit-eating grin across his unmasked face — a rarity, truly — his away bag slung over one of his broad (lovely) shoulders, and a bundle of something wrapped up in an old shirt in his arms.

You should have known better. Should have known because when the pile yowled a sound akin to an eldritch horror and Simon had the audacity to laugh—a deep, low sound that would have you on your knees if it weren't at your expense— you nearly socked the man in the face.

It uncurled itself from the sopping ball that Simon had lain across the floor between your socked feet and Simon's steel-toe boots. Shiny boots too, aye? He could keep his boots clean yet couldn't remember to rinse the sink of his little pokey blonde hairs after a shave?!

God, it was insufferable. Man disappears for weeks to months, then reappears like nothing just happened? No 'hi' or 'hello' or 'how are you?'—

The thing yowls again, sending you skyrocketing across your living room to use the sofa as a buffer between you and the thing whilst Simon's antagonizing laugh rings through.

You're gonna kill him, you determine.

"When I said a bloody pet, Simon," your voice is biting, reminding the bloke in front of you of all times his mother had whelped at him for his own little spin on directions. "I meant a dog, or- or- a cat. Fucking 'ell, a fish would do!"

"What's wrong with it?" Simon deadpans with a raised eyebrow, those dark brown eyes filled with mirth as one of his booted foot slides the few inches in front of him and prods at the bundle of wet material and fur. The action causes another horror-like screech to erupt from it and the situation repeats itself once more.

Though, this time, you perhaps scream alongside it because the nudge from Simon's boot causes the thing to propel its tiny body forward, spearing towards the couch.

And unfortunately, you.

A few hours later, after multiple baths—yours unwillingly, his as payback, and the thing required at least two before your eyes stopped watering—the two of you determine that it was indeed a cat.

To which, Simon promptly named the thing “cat.” And you scowled whilst renaming it “satan.”

Congratulations on your new pet:

Cuppa Cat Satan Kentucky Bourbon the III, Destroyer of Sanities and Ankles.

[feralthotsandfeelings]

KASUSHKJHFSIAU Gremlins I neeed to talk about these little fuckers and I love them however since the time I originally wrote them, they've changed.....alot and also I unintentionally made them pretty problematic so we're changing that today. I need to rewrite them a little. But today we start with the basics and Lee~

Meet the not so sweet boi Lee Neya! Resident Prince of the Gremlins (sole ruler of the bunny people) and cute husband to Lust!

This cutie prides himself on his looks and is the one where most gremlin stereotypes come from, he's playful, bubbly, flirty and soft. Surface level anyways, you don't need to look to hard to find the truth.

He's a malevolent ruler of a chaotic hivemind race of people who tries very hard to subtly infect the world with eldritch and void influences. His favorite thing is melting people's mind, breaking them far beyond repair and then eating them alive for a snack. Sometimes he'll just skip that first part and shove like a wad of sock in their mouths and go to town because he finds the screaming is a little annoying sometimes.

A wolf in sheeps clothing if you will, but gremlins as a whole are more like eldritch flesh monsters in cute semi-humanoid bunny clothing. Their anatomy is....something else....compared to most living things. Gremlins are mostly made of a soft fleshy void matter shaped into their desired form, since theyre a hivemind with Lee as the head of it, he chose this cute small customizable form that could appeal to many, giving those in the hivemind a small sense of identity in choosing the color of their skin, corruption (the purple stuff on the feet in second image doesnt have to be purple...or that much), tail and ears (color, type and size) hair (color, type and length), perceived gender and gender expression and height ranging from 4 ft to 5'4" ft for adults and eyebrows and eye color. So obviously they can look like their own individuals, and they seemingly have their own personalities.

The way the hivemind works is they're all individual people right? but theyre all connected to the same sort of neural network type of thinking. Everyone can hear what everyone thinks all the time, the only one who can opt out of that is Lee. Everyone else can limit their range via proximity and sort of tune out people far away that are easier to ignore. While they can think and act for themselves especially when farther away from the hivemind they ultimately just kinda roll with what Lee says should go because he's the strongest and if you're going to disagree you're going to have to convince him or fight him about it....so guuddd lucckkk

Anyways, gremlins are chaos bunnies, feel free to ask more about Lee (or ask him questions) and since my drawing is so damn inconsistent the top image is more like what his face and top body looks like and the second is more accurate to his lower half. Side profiles are hard ;-; and yes ik the first one is better i spent more time on it

[b1rds3ye]

hi!! this is my first time doing a request so idk if I'm doing this right haha but uh, I was wondering if you could do like. yknow the masked one you made for the 141 (I can't remember the name rn💔)? I thought of like, a sequel idea. like, what if during combat an enemy manages to take reader's mask, and so reader panics and like, rips the enemies throat out with their teeth (or if that's too violent, just goes basically rabid on them lmao) and how they would react?? if this is too violent or specific dw you don't have to!! anyways, I love your content it's totally awesome ur writing is amazing! have a good day!!

YES I LOVE THE BADASSERY AND THE UNHINGEDNESS!! If I'm your first request I'm so flattered anon pls do feel free to drop by again <333 Also just going to do general rabidness because ngl the throat thing sounds like an infection speedrun and we want our masked reader to stay nice and healthy <333

Word Count: 1.2 (it got a little long WHOOPS)

Warning: Canon typical violence, reader does get a lil sadistic and unhinged <333

Beyond Task Force 141 and Laswell, many - if not all - allied soldiers wondered about what lay under your mask. Obscuring even the eyes, your visage was more unreadable than Ghost's. Larger than life, a soldier among men.

There was a running joke that there was just nothing under your mask, perhaps an eldritch horror of sorts. You let the new recruits entertain the thought, it kept morale up as they conjured more myths of you. They said that no one has seen you without your mask. They were partially right.

It simply was that no one lived to tell the tale.

You were never one for close combat, but fighting terrorists was never smooth sailing. The chaos of battle had all of the 141 separated against the tight streets of Las Almas. How uncanny that you could not see your allies but hear their gunfire. Running out of ammo, you couldn't lament at your misfortune as a shoulder pummeling into your chest, sending you to the ground and the air out of your lungs. Head bashing against the floor you groaned as you furiously clawed up to whatever heavy weight was crushing your body. You were starting to make up the figure of a man hovering over you through the blurry haze of a concussion that filled your sight. The distant static of Price's voice through the radio, probably asking where the hell were you but you had more pressing issues at hand.

Through your struggle and flailing limbs you managed to wring the enemy's pistol off of them with a painful twist of their wrist. And they retaliated tenfold, a large sweaty hand reaching down and pressing your head back against the ground. Your adrenaline makes you writhe further, he was going to suffocate you, or worse, poison you with how fucking awful his hand smelt as the stink of burning gunpowder replaced any of your oxygen. But no, he committed a far worse crime.

A singular pull and the grating tear of fabric as your mask is pulled off of your face.

A heavy moment where your enemy looks down at you and his gaze is not like before. It's clear, it's deep. It is not looking at your facade but at you and you are no longer a soldier. You are merely a human, so fragile, so weak. One that is on the verge of death in a foreign land surrounded by bodies of fallen comrades and enemies alike. One whose mythos is all but lost at the victorious and leering smirk of an enemy as they take in your face.

That simply won't do.

Pulling your knee up to create space between you and the man, you pull out your tactical knife from your waist and drive it into his torso. His smile falls only to land at settle on yours below him, just like his blood that trickles as forbidden crimson down your hands and seeps into your uniform. It's disgustingly warm. He grows heavier as he loses all control over his body and you heave to throw his figure off to the side. You stab him once again for good measure. And then again. And again. Quick, short jabs down with a sharpened blade that cuts through uniform, flesh and bone alike. You did not count how many times you drove your blade down, numbers were too complex when your mind was running faster than any comprehensible speed. There was only one goal. To make sure no one knows what happened.

A harsh grip on the shoulder yanks you back up and you swipe with your armed limb to cut your new assailant's neck but they were onto you. Catching your arm, they pull it up as they hold onto your shoulder once again with a tightening grip that digs into your uniform. But they do nothing more, no matter how much you thrash and kick.

"Wake up, Sergeant," your opponent seethes and that voice makes you still, a buoy that floats across through your rage. Deep and grounding and your captain's.

You nearly stumble back but Price catches you before you crumple to the ground in exhaustion. The adrenaline was escaping your body leaving you with barely the energy to stay upright. Your head lolls back for a second before you bring it to the side to look at your direct superior, the remnants of a concussion making your vision blurry.

"You broken?" he asks.

"Negative, sir,” you respond immediately but he looks a little doubtful, a singular eyebrow raised as he inspects you. Not your body, but your face. The dilated pupils and the taut muscles told more than any wound.

"Can't say the same about your wee friend over there," Soap whistles as he tilts his head to behind you. “Christ, you did a number on him.”

You dare turn to look over your shoulder but Ghost already situated himself in front of the body. But between his feet you could already make out the indistinguishable mass of tattered fabric and discoloured flesh. Fresh blood filled the rivets between the cobblestones, the remnants of the body inching its way closer to you-

"Was it the mask?" Simon brings your attention back to him. You nod dumbly. He only dips his head in what you can only describe as understanding as he folds his arms, fortifying his stance in front of the mess you made. You weren’t going to see your handiwork, he was too kind to ever let you.

John drops his hands down to his sides as Gaz approaches you with your mask.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side," Kyle offers you a sympathetic smile.

"Learnt that the first day I saw 'em on duty," Johnny retorts and you instinctively smile as you take your mask from Kyle. The hardened plaster of your mask had cracked, the fabric that hugged your neck had become torn but it'll do for the remainder of the mission. Slipping the mask back on, Simon offers a nod of approval while Johnny tugged at the fabric for a few finishing touches.

Ultimately the mission was successful. The task force returns to base and although none of the boys mentioned the carnage you left, there are still whispers of it on base. You had hurried to debrief and get your mask fixed but it seemed some privates caught sight of you and that was enough to spark rumours. Your mask had gotten so fractured that a shard was left back in the streets of Las Almas and revealed one of your eyes to the rest of the world. Such a small organ but so vivid. The privates saw, and more was added to the myth that was you. There was now no question about what was under the mask. No lovecraftian horror or empty space, no monster beyond comprehension. No, what was under your mask was terrifyingly human.

Masked Reader Masterlist Call of Duty Masterlist

[amomentsescape]

Eldritch monster anon here! So to answer your question, yep that image you shared is what I have in mind ^^

Slashers with Reader Who's Secretly an Eldritch Horror

Slashers x Reader

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, & Lester

A/N: I'm not super confident I wrote Reader correctly, and I didn't go into too much depth about what they look like or everything they're capable of, so I hope you still like it! You can find the original request here.

Freddy Krueger

He can't help but fantasize of the damage you two can cause when together

He sensed something was a little different about you from the beginning

But he didn't think it would be quite this drastic

What's funny though is that he thinks you don't know that he's found out about you

He's dead wrong

But it's kind of a game to you, and you're having fun with it

He's "secretly" caught you distorting the people and things around you

And he admires that fact since he does the same thing in his Dream World

You were hoping he'd catch on sooner

But oh well

It's just more fun that way

Michael Myers

He somehow doesn't know already, and you kind of want to keep it that way

Michael has this thing with power

He knows he's unstoppable, chaotic, and deadly

And he likes it that way

If he ever found out about the things you're capable of...

It would not be good

Your partnership would go from providing to battling

He wants- needs to be the monster in the relationship

And although you have the upper hand on him, he would not go down without a fight

He knows there's a darkness brewing in you

He just doesn't know quite what it is

And let's hope it stays that way

Jason Voorhees

He honestly learns about what you are pretty early on

He didn't really assume anything was off about you, but he was so open and sweet to you that you felt comfortable enough to tell him about everything

And knowing that he's not the most dangerous being around is somewhat... nice

He really admires your power and strength

And it feels good to be able to leave for a while and not worry that something will happen to you

You are more than capable of protecting yourself, and that lifts a huge weight off of Jason's shoulders

Perhaps he's too trusting, but he doesn't worry about you turning that dark power on him

You've only showed him genuine love and care, so he feels like he has nothing to worry about

Thomas Hewitt

Perhaps he's being a little naive

The way you immediately ate his "dinner" without so much as a question

The sudden increase of people coming by the house and being captured

How you come out of the most dangerous areas unscathed

There is clearly something about you that isn't... normal

But it's not his place to question it

He loves you, and you love him

End of story

Even if he did start to question what's really going on, he wouldn't press the matter

He figures you'll open up to him whenever you're ready

And if that's never, then so be it

Bubba Sawyer

He's just a sweet, naive man

You could literally show your true colors right in front of his eyes, and he'd still have no clue

But it doesn't really matter

He loves you for you no matter what you look like or what you're capable of

As long as you still care for him like this, you can do whatever you want

He will admit that his family has had a much easier time getting "food" than ever before

And those that do come by are really easy to capture since you've been with him

But those are just coincidences, surely

You're his sweet angel

He has to protect you

Little does he know that you really can handle yourself...

Brahms Heelshire

He has found it a little odd that the food still arrives on time without so much as a word from Malcolm

And he hasn't seen a single soul since you began to staying with him

But he's very happy with all of this, so he doesn't question it

He can sense that you're a little... different than other people

But that's part of the reason he likes you so much in the first place

He only realizes the true extent to this theory when you somehow force him to bed without so much as a touch

He was completely flabbergasted at this, but he didn't dare question it

Safe to say that he has no intention on giving you a hard time again

Norman Bates

He doesn't question a thing

If anything, you're his good luck charm since all of these good things started to happen when you showed up

The motel business is booming

Any issues he was dealing with seemed to disappear in plain sight

Everything seems to be going his way for once

Mother keeps telling him there's something off about you, but he ignores her

What does she mean?

You're his sweet and perfect partner

There's nothing else to it

You want to show him the truth at some point, but he just seems so happy right now

Maybe you'll tell him later

Billy Loomis

Billy straight up demands for you to tell him what's going on

Unlike a lot of people, Billy follows his gut instinct

He's known something was up with since you two started seeing each other

His world was just too... perfect

And he swears that there's this dark aura that surrounds your head at all hours of the day

It's only after his latest kill went too well that he interrogates you

When you tell him, he asks you to prove it

The look on his face when you showed him just what you were was enough to send you into a fit of laughter

To be honest, Billy is a little bit scared of you now

Knowing that you're capable of literally taking him out of existence is intimidating to say the least

Best believe Billy is going to do his best not to get on your bad side

Stu Macher

Stu is true golden retriever energy

Meaning, he is very sweet and loving towards you, but there's not much else going on inside that brain of his

He doesn't suspect a single thing with you

You are his perfect partner, and that's about it

Sure, his killings with Billy have been going super well, and he always comes out unscathed

Yeah, that person who shushed him in the movie theater was found completely mutilated the next day

What about it?

You wouldn't have anything to do with it

Stu just thinks that you are made out of 100% innocence

And you kind of like it that way

You'll tell him when you're ready

Until then, you just appreciate Stu treating you like a person and not some powerful God

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent has been finding himself with a new sense of inspiration for his wax art

He dreams of this ethereal yet terrifying being he has never seen before

He's told you about the dreams, and you always respond with a soft smile and a "that's interesting"

Vincent as no clue that you're the creature he's been seeing

And you must say, his art is pretty damn accurate

You didn't have any intentions on telling him the truth, at least not right away

But the way he sees this version of you as his muse makes you want to say something sooner

He's basically idolizing you, and he doesn't even know it

Not that he doesn't act this way with you normally

But how fun it could be to see his reaction once you tell him the truth

Bo Sinclair

Maybe he suspects something is going on, but he doesn't say anything

Ignorance is bliss

And although he's usually one to demand what he wants to know, he doesn't quite feel comfortable doing that with you

There's something in those eyes of yours that tells him he may be better off not knowing

Plus, things for him and Ambrose have been going suspiciously well for him

He literally had some random man run up to him begging to become one of the wax figures

This is all just odd

And he knows you're hiding something by the way you smile at him

But everything is so perfect that he doesn't want to ruin it

So for now, let him be ignorant

Lester Sinclair

He's never really been in a relationship as passionate as this one before

So you best believe any single thought or doubt that goes through his head is immediately thrown out

He loves you, and you're so nice to him

There's no way you could be hiding something from him, right?

I mean, it's a little odd how you seem to appear from thin air, and your hair never has a single strand out of place

There was something that feels... not real

But that's just crazy

He probably only feels that way because of how perfect he thinks you are

Until you explicitly stand before him in your true form, he's going to just ignore these thoughts

[shinyspooks]

literally and non-literally

so. i'm literally obsessed with @zillychu 's fire core au. so i HAD to write this.

note: i imagine this happens sometime between danny actually starting to talk to them and them finding out about the halfa thing- so like, really early bonding/flirting stage?? you'll get what i mean

Warnings: blood mention, Danny kills a ghost off screen. + said ghost's arm gets torn off. this fic is comedy though i promise

Word Count: 1k

Read on AO3

This had been a bad idea.

That was all that Tucker could think, as he and Sam stood under the cover of a nearby half-destroyed building, watching as Phantom beat another ghost to a pulp.

Neither of them had seen the other ghost before, and it seemed that they likely never would again, if the way Phantom was tearing into them was any indication.

Literally, tearing into them, it seemed, as Phantom fiercly bit down on the other’s arm and ripped it clean off, blood splattering down to the pavement, followed by the ghost’s body, slamming down with such force that it made the ground tremble. When the dust settled, the ectoplasmic body didn’t so much as twitch.

“Wow.” Sam said, interrupting the unsettling silence, “That was kinda hot.”

Phantom, arm still in his mouth, turned around with a look filled with so much abject horror that if this was any other situation Tucker would’ve laughed.

Letting the arm drop from his mouth to fall to rest on top of it’s original body, Phantom joined Sam and Tucker on the ground. Well. Sorta on the ground. He got closer to the ground. But he remained floating, as usual.

“Ah-” Sam interrupted him before he could speak, “You’ve got a little-”

She reached forwards, towards Phantom’s face, and he instantly floated several feet back, letting out a hiss. Sam froze, before letting her arm drop to her side.

“Right, no touching.” She said, “But, uh, you’ve got some blood- or, ecto, on your face.”

Phantom almost seemed to hesitate for a second, before using his fist to try and wipe the ecto-blood off his cheek. He didn’t do much other than smear it a little, but both Sam and Tucker decided to not mention it. Phantom floated a bit closer again with a small sigh.

“I hope,” He started, “That when you said hot, before, thatit’s in reference to the literal heat, cause otherwise…”

“Otherwise…?” Sam tilted her head to the side with a smirk. Tucker silently shook his head at her, but she ignored him.

“Because otherwise, you’re a lot crazier than I thought.” Phantom said, crossing his arms with a huff. If anything, Sam’s smirk grew wider at that.

“Hi, I’m Sam, and I’m a lot crazier than you thought I was.” She said, linking her arm around Tucker’s and dragging him in closer to her. “This is Tucker, he’s also a lot crazier than you thought he was. May I know your name?”

“Don’t drag me into this.” Tucker muttered, and Sam lightly kicked his shin, making him sharply inhale. Phantom slow-blinked at them both. Truthfully, they didn’t really need him to tell them his name, they both had a pretty solid guess that he was, maybe, perhaps, the Phantom, but he didn’t need to know that. Besides, when it came to somewhat eldritch or fae-like beings, there were whole things around names, so it was best to give the matter some form of caution.

(And even if it wasn’t a fae-name kind of situation, the fact Phantom had not willingly gave them a name to call him by at this point did imply that they should treat the matter with some delicacy).

“…Nice try.” He said, “It’s not something you need to know, though.”

“Hm, maybe we should try giving you a name then…” Sam trailed off, thinking. Tucker let out a defeated sigh, immediately realizing that she was about to throw their previous caution and delicacy around Phantom’s name away entirely. Phantom looked almost confused, and slightly angry, like she hadn’t gotten his point, but couldn’t even say a word before she was speaking again. “Ah, I know. We’ll call you Casper.”

Phantom slow-blinked again, now very obviously confused.

“You’re choosing, of all things, to name me after the old high-school?” He asked. Now it was Sam and Tucker’s turn to look at him in confusion.

“No?? I- Oh, wait.” The realization seemed to hit them both at once. “You wouldn’t have seen that movie, would you?”

“Movie?”

“Casper, the Friendly Ghost.” Tucker elaborated. Phantom seemed to bristle.

“Ghosts are not friendly.” He said. Sam and Tucker both shared a look that made him glower at the both of them. “Seriously. Ghost’s aren’t friendl- wait, hold on. If you’re naming me- you think I’m friendly?!”

The silence that followed seemed to be response enough for him.

“I’m not friendly. I- you both aren’t just crazy. You’re insane.” Phantom said. Sam seemed to consider something for a moment.

“Hmm… You know, you’re pretty cute too, Casper.” She said, and Phantom sputtered, suddenly dropping to stand on the ground.

“Cute?!”

“Ah-” Tucker suddenly felt the need to maybe do some damage control. Phantom was already a threat enough without a damaged pride. “Of course, you’re very, uh, scary and powerful-”

“In a hot way though.” Sam interjected, “In a non-literal hot way.”

“Sam!” Tucker had to admit that she was objectively correct, but- “You can’t just say things like that-”

“You know I’m right. He’s hot. Both literally and non-literally.” As she said so, she gestured at Phantom, who had taken to staring very pointedly at the ground. Was it just Tucker’s imagination, or was his face turning a little green-

Phantom’s fists suddenly clenched, and when he looked up at them again, it was with a glare in his eyes, the edges of his hair slowly growing more smokey than its usual state.

“Get out of my town.” He hissed, eyes flashing a brighter shade of green. Ah. It seemed they had reached Phantom’s idiocy limit for the day.

Not wasting any time, Tucker flipped Sam’s grip on his arm so that he was the one holding on to her, turned, and started to drag her away at a rather speedy pace.

“Aw c’mon, I was only messing around!!” Sam complained, but still allowed herself to be dragged. From some distance behind them, Phantom tsked.

“Keep playing around like that and you’ll get burned.” He muttered, quietly, but not quietly enough for them to not overhear.

“Was that a pun? Wait- Tucker, the ghost knows puns-” Sam said, planting her feet into the ground. It was enough to give Tucker pause as well, turning around-

Phantom had already vanished.

“He knows puns, Tucker.” Sam continued, “Tucker. We’ve got to bring the joke book next time.”

[in-search-of-an-exit]

Hatchetfield, Continuity, and Eldritch Horror

So, Nerdy Prudes Must Die just came out and it reminded me how much I love the Hatchetfield series and I want to talk about one aspect that makes it so unique and interesting. Continuity.

If you don't know Hatchetfield is a series of stories by Starkid that has three stage musicals and a series called Nightmare Time and a short film. It is a horror anthology series where in every story some different supernatural or other horrible event occurs where characters die or the world ends in different ways. But that is kinda of not true because anthology isn't quite the right word.

The characters stay the same as the inhabitants of the small town of Hatchetfield but each story focuses on different characters at different times and the interesting part is that while certain individuals will act differently because of something related to the horror or supernatural elements mostly they always stick to canonical personalities and histories, and it is heavily implied that the events all actually happen and there is some wider story where there are multiple timelines.

This creates two really cool effects.

One is that you slowly start to learn more about the characters as you encounter them in various stories, and different things come about depending on how the current threat affects them. It also gives more information than any length single timeline would because we get to see what pushes them to different points. From NPMD for example, the story takes place two years after The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals in which the world ends and Paul and Emma fall in love, but we see in NPMD that Paul for the first time gives Emma his number perhaps hinting at what the timeline would be for Paul and Emma's relationship to mature without the intervention of a world ending disaster.

The other thing is about Eldritch Horror. Hatchetfield's core story revolves around the Lords in Black a group of Elder Gods who orchestrate most of the events. In most cases Eldritch Horror has difficulty truly selling the concept of creatures outside of our dimension who are not bound by time and space, and even if they demonstrate their power to the characters, as an audience it doesn't have a huge effect. But with Hatchetfield, because as an audience we are aware of the multiple timelines, we take on the role of the eldritch beings and see the stories from their perspective. In NPMD they make references to other stories implying that it is the same Lords in Black everytime with Tinky talking about having "another Spankofski" for his collection(an episode of Nightmare Time.) They also play with having the audience being the perspective of these Eldritch beings with the stagecraft like in Black Friday where entering the Black and White has the president move in from the audience, or in TGWDLM the ending has the audience clap for the end of the show with Emma screaming for help and unsure why the audience won't help her.

Its a really cool format that I personally have never encountered before and really sells the horror and makes you more invested in the characters.

[the-one-and-only-duckduckgo]

I (finally) finished Season one during my 7 hour long train ride, and since nobody asked, here's a new summary.

The Magnus Archives but I've finished season one (and that didn't help with the confusion)

There's Jon. He's an Archivist, and he got that anxiety rizz™

He also sounds like his life would crumbie in pieces if he doesn't have a seventh cup of coffee before the sun rises.

I can relate.

One of the causes of his anxiety seems to be his least favourite colleague, Martin.

Martin is described as unqualified, suspected to be a ghost and sent into various deadly situations.

He also sleeps in Jalapeño's bed.

I FUCKING LOVE GERARD KEAY

Everyone works in a modern remake of the Library of Alexandria, which would be very cool if there weren't a lot of murderous creatures.

(there are a lot of murderous creatures)

And worms. Would we still love them if they were human? Probably not.

Everything is ruled by a guy named Elias Bouchard. Everyone told me that he's nice.

In what world is a guy named fucking Bouchard nice?

Jane Prentiss is spreading the worm agenda.

SHE DESERVED MORE THAN THAT HELP IS THERE A CHARITY WHERE I CAN GIVE HER A VIRTUAL HUG???

Michael the eldritch horror is very lovely.

OH AND I DIDN'T TELL YOU BUT JALAPEÑO USES THE TAPE RECORDER CAUSE THE STATEMENTS DON'T WORK ON COMPUTER. THERE'S A REASON BEHIND ALL THAT.

That also means that there are statements that can be recorded on the computer and that we therefore don't see. I want to know what they're about.

#JusticeForSasha2k24

I am still lost in the English names.

Gerard Keay still burns books.

But that's ok, cause they're evil books from BLOODY JÜRGEN LEITNER I HATE JÜRGEN LEITNER DON'T GET ME STARTED ON THIS USELESS PIECE OF SHITTY OLD PARCHMENT WHEN HE WAS BORN HIS MOTHER CRIED AND SHOULD HAVE STRANGLED HIM I WISH HE GOES TO HELL ALTHOUGH NO HE WOULD RUIN THE GAY PARTY HAPPENING THERE I WISH HE DISAPPEARED IN THE COFFIN WE SEE AT THE BEGINNING AND WENT ON A CRUISE IN PETER LUKAS' BOAT GOD I HAVE SO MANY THINGS TO SAY ABOUT THIS LITERARY DISHONOUR. Fuck you, Leitner.

Hmm, yeah. Sorry. Where was I?

Season one's over, still no trace of the queer rep I was teased with.

Although, that may be a good thing, given the fact that as soon as a gay appears, they get killed/ replaced/ vanished by by some antique object.

Does that mean antique objects are homophobes?

Although these antiques come from Salesa's shop. Perhaps Salesa's the real straight supremacist here.

Selling dangerous items seems like a rentable activity tho. I should do the same.

Starting from now. Does anyone want a totally-not-illegal coffin? Antique dolls? You get your money back if they kill you.

So...uh...yeah. Good show. Amazing sound effects. Watch it. Wahoo.

[radioisntdead]

can we get op reader just beating the absolute SHIT out of valentino while vox and velvette watch on in horror? :3 perhaps others too, like perchance we somehow stutmbled upon valentino's set while angel was there and are just *appalled* and therefore decide his second living privileges need to be taken away <3

- snake

Good evening my dear!

When I tell you I audibly screamed when I read this request I mean it my dear! I despise Valentino and I adore this request! I did change some things because it didn't make much sense for the reader to just pop into the studio randomly and start going ham, so I went with some light backstory and causally gave the reader the found family treatment, anyways enjoy!

The Forgotten one

Reader fic,

Warnings!!

Mild torture {I say mild but limbs are getting ripped off, I don't go into detail and there isn't much of it but be warned!!} I'm imagining reader as an eldritch horror, This is literally just the reader murdering the grape guy horrendously, Reader ended up in eternal damnation for a reason! Also I'm imagining the reader to be British??? I don't know why, that was accidental but if you get British vibes that's why.

You died centuries ago, your generation laid long forgotten, you could barely remember your life before the black death had claimed it, you could just barely recall the high fever, hurling over in your cot and spitting out the blood that had gathered in your mouth.

You probably weren't the best person since you ended up here, maybe you were a tyrannical peasant? A murderer? A person of the night? A thief?

Maybe you had a family, maybe you were wedded, maybe you had kids, maybe you didn't.

Who knows, you certainly didn't.

You wondered if you will ever be able to recall those forgotten memories about your life.

All you knew is that you climbed the ranks quickly once you ended up in the underworld, gaining many souls, and power one could only dream of, becoming a feared overlord.

You've gone through many names, The dark one, the Wicked, The witch, the Warlock, A child of darkness, the devil's child, {That one didn't age well},

Most recently though you were deemed as the forgotten one, always lurking, watching, never coming out into the spotlight unless necessary, sending one of the souls you kept in your place while you hid in your castle.

However decades of solitude gets rather boring,

So you decided to go out, see what was new, after all when was the last time you were out and about? The 70's? Oh you adored the results of that decade.

Well venturing out turned out to be such treat! Turns out that fellow who adored ducks's charming daughter opened a hotel to redeem sinners! Oh how darling it was!

You popped in to visit it, finding the residents quite lovely, you simply adored how Charlie thought that you of all sinners could be redeemed! It was quite a foolish thought

But you liked that hotel along with it's lovely little residents,and if playing along with the Princess's delusions of you getting redeemed after so, so many harsh years, would let you stay in that hotel and cure your boredom then it wouldn't hurt to entertain that foolish thought now would it?

And so you stayed as one of the residents on the path of so-called redemption!

you got along well enough with the others, although Vaggie and Alastor were suspicious of you at first, although you and Alastor got along well after bonding over how the noisy picture box was overrated, it had wow'd you at first but that quickly faded as it progressed,

It took Vaggie awhile to trust you, but after you had taught her some of the skills you had picked up in your lifetime you became like a parental figure to the woman, which played out well as Charlie was already quite fond of you,

You had practically proclaimed them both as your daughter and daughter in law, you adored them both, baking them treats, gifting Vaggie a pair of some type weapon, giving Charlie something related to unicorns, or a joint gift for them,

You quite liked their reactions upon receiving something they liked,

You liked seeing them happy a little too much, so much that you started giving the others things you thought they might like, expensive alcohol for Husk, shiny sharp knifes to hunt bugs down with for dear niffty, vintage radios for Alastor, tools and things for inventing for Sir Pentious, and matching clothes for Fat nuggets and Angel for Angel dust,

You liked seeing their expressions when they liked something, it gave a warm, bubbly feeling in your stomach,

You liked spending time with everyone too.

Chatting at the bar with husk, Angel dust explaining things to you that you don't know, watching your fellow residents sleep with Sir Pentious, sparring with Vaggie, scrapbooking with Charlie, watching one of Niffty's roach puppet shows, taking a trip to cannibal town with Alastor to visit Rosie,

You slowly began seeing the hotel residents like family, you didn't have a family, or at least you didn't anymore so you don't know exactly how they worked but you thought that this was good enough,

They were your beloved family now, formed from delusional hope,

and you were their family reborn from a forgotten era, burned to ashes and thrown to the dark pits filled with brimstone, sin and death.

You'd do anything for them, you'd die for them, you'd live for them, and you'd kill for them, they most definitely were your family now.

And you typically protect family, right?

Right?

You heard about what happened in Valentino's studio with Angel dust, the bruises.

You were displeased,

More then displeased you were upset, you were angry, how long has it been since you were this angry how dare someone lay a hand on your dear family member?

You waited until the majority of the hotel were asleep, most notably Angel,

You made up an excuse to go out, saying you had to check up on your castle after all you had unfortunate sinners working there and they're headless chickens without you!

Charlie told you to stay safe before she went up to bed with Vaggie.

You would be safe!

fortunately though, a certain Vee, would not be safe.

You did stop by your castle, to grab a spear with Angelic steel, you mentally thanked yourself for grabbing it a several extermination days ago,

You twirled it in your hand before a large sinister grin over took your face.

It had been awhile since you were out for blood.

Getting into the Vee's tower was disappointingly easy! Scaling up the wall and breaking a window? Child's play!

What wasn't easy was finding Valentino, the bald pimp moth guy, you had to look through several rooms, why did they have so many rooms? Did they even need these???

Nevermind all that, after searching for an inconvenient amount of time,

you finally found the one that had dared to harm your dear family member, you tilted your head as Valentino squinted to see who you were, unraveling his wings once he didn't recognize you.

He didn't look like much, he was tall, red eyes, and he looked like a grape with wings, the grimaced, oh poor Angel Dust, he had to look at this everytime he went to work!

Thankfully after this he didn't need too, you twitched, transforming into a more demonic form.

"Who the fu-"

He didn't get to finish the sentence as you swiftly kicked him in the kneecap causing him to fall, cursing you and wincing at the sudden pain in his knee, taking that moment you kicked him again, this time on his side, pushing him properly on the ground, placing your shoe on his ribcage you began to slowly crush his rib, grinning at the beginnings of a cracking noise

Unfortunately the little grape screamed out for the TV fucker to appear,

You could hear the sound of cables getting ripped out and the sound of footsteps.

"Val, what is it this time? Is it about angel dust again, I- ShIT VaL, wHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?''

And the TV man makes an entrance shouting, how annoying, well you could always deal with him later, raising your hand pitch black inky tentrals came out from beside you, wrapping the TV headed man and attaching him onto the couch.

Returning your focus to the soon to be deceased, again, grape

You bent down to wrap a claw onto his wing,

It was soft, maybe you could make something for Niffty with it, a blanket perhaps? Or maybe a coat?

You pulled out the wing as Valentino screamed out in pain, blood splattering onto you, the floor and the walls,

a door swung open behind you before quickly being closed, just barely leaving a gap for a phone camera to sneak though, the owner of the phone looked on in horror.

You kicked Valentino over causing him to hiss and groan as he now laid on his stomach, how unfortunate for him, who knew that if you horrendously abused your employees an centuries old overlord would be out for your blood!

You grinned at how helpless he was now, how pitiful!

You grabbed one of his arms and pulled, nerves and muscles separated and blood leaked out.

Vox looked on in complete and utter horror, he couldn't do anything,

Would he be next?

The Vee's floor was destroyed, Valentino was shredded and separated, stabbed in the head with the angelic steel you had brought along as to ensure he would NOT be coming back.

Both of his wings were folded and set neatly on the counter away from the carnage, after all if you were to make Dear Niffty something with them they had to be clean, mostly, you'd have to clean them again, who knows what diseases that man was carrying, Yuck!

You took some of the carnage and place them into containers before putting them in a bag to carry with you, you tucked the detached wings under your arm, dusting yourself off you checked the digital clock on the wall,

You should get back quickly, they'll be up soon.

Moving around the broken glass and furniture that had gotten caught up in the downfall of Valentino you made your way out the door,

You let Vox free from your tendrils, hearing him move to possibly inspect the remains of his business partner and whatever else.

You wonder if the third one was still recording?

Oh well, that's none of your concern,

You knocked things over, shattered, torn and destroyed anything you could get your hands on as you went down the Vee's tower, destroying what you could.

At the bottom floor a box of fireworks caught your eye, you supposed it was for one of the Vee's something, maybe Velvette's fashion thing or one of the skinned grape's filthy films,

Well either way, you were going to borrow the fireworks, set them up on the ground floor and light em' up,

The fireworks boomed onto the floor, sparkling and bursting into flames, burning and sizzling anything it could get it's clutches on.

You left swiftly after, getting bored, and you were practically done anyways.

You should head home now, and stop by your castle to dispose of that spear.

You hummed as you moved around the kitchen swinging a spatula around on your finger before checking on the meat that was beginning to brown in the pan,

"Good Morning [Name!]"

Charlie popped into the kitchen, turning your head to her, you smiled at her,

"Morning Dear Charlie, I'm preparing breakfast for everyone, French toast for the majority and I picked up some fresh demon meat to make something else for Dear Alastor since he doesn't like sweet things,"

"Really? That's so sweet of you!''

"Mhm, It's nothing, But be a dear and call everyone to the dining room so they can feast?"

You ask tilting your head as Charlie nodded with a 'Yes!' before hopping off to gather everyone for breakfast.

You turn back to the stove, poking your spatula into the simmering remains of Valentino, hopefully the peppers and seasons make him taste decent, you would hate for everyone else to enjoy their food and Alastor be the only one to not enjoy the meal.

Hopefully they didn't suspect you when the news covers Valentino's demise and the destroyed tower.

You are not a good person by any means, you were condemned for a reason, this all started to sooth your boredom, you can NEVER be redeemed....

Or could you?

Maybe this little makeshift family that you desperately want to protect could change you, make you a better person.

It was a foolish thought, but as long as you can make them a mildly concerning breakfast, spend time with them, give them trinkets you think they would like, you were willing to entertain that foolish thought, more then willingly.

Thank you for tuning in folks! I'm working on those Susan requests and the other WIPS I have in my pocket so look forward to those!

[ballad-of-the-lamb]

I've been bingeing your art in this blog for, like, the last hour. Sooo much good stuff!

Can we hear more about notable members of the Cult? Cheese Parm's s/o and such

cult info below cut b/c i'm gonna be typing a lot;

Everyone listed here are basically the main runners/cast when it comes to plot relevance in the story in itself. there are plenty of cast & characters that aren't- but they wont pop up for anything other than background characters perhaps staring on in horror at god antics or one another's antics.

we'll start from the top;

GALLOWS [ girlyed cheese ]

the most recent member of the cult to be saved specifically by the lamb themself from sacrifice within Darkwood.

a lot of cult conflict will begin with the uninitiated, the unknowing. and the influence of the twin gods will be seen on her in real time as the story progresses.

she is generally a very generic playful-but-tricky fox character, but there's a lot she hides; much like the rest of the cult members. her past is not happily talked about, or seldom is.

she was a native to Darkwood. She is chaotic because of it.

she was meant to be burned at the stake.

EKPYROSIS [ asbestos ]

This word derives from a Greek word for a great fire. It represents a belief held by some scholars of Stoicism, that says that the universe has no beginning or end, and instead is destroyed and remade in a great conflagration in a cyclic manner. Just as life & death ever are.

Her name stands out among the rest of the cult because it was the name that the Lamb bestowed upon her upon being given the title of disciple. Just as Narinder took Baal & Aym to learn from him, the Lamb took her.

Her previous name is not known to anyone mind the Lamb themself, Narinder, and cheese parm.

She is more inclined to using and being influenced by the eldritch artifacts & relics the Lamb or Narinder tend to return with.

She leaves an uneasy and terrible 'uncanny valley' feeling tenfold within her vicinity, which makes her hard to be around. It is not just being outright creepy- but it's a lot more akin to literally feeling reality dip and bow around you into something not quite right.

She does not move like a normal person. The way she walks, runs, jumps- it's all too impossible to replicate without someone shattering every bone in their body.

When she speaks, her voice is delayed from her mouth. And it doesn't always line up perfectly.

most notably; cheese parm hates her. for good reason.

OTHERA [ bong water ]

An average cult member on the surface. They are a caretaker, they are matronly, they work as the local therapist. Generally just likes taking care of people.

When the Lamb, Disciples, & Narinder aren't around to listen to confessionals in the booth they are typically who does.

It's an unspoken rule to not make them angry or let them get to '1' when they start counting down from 5.

He is typically known for the reason morale is good. A good shoulder to rely on.

He is the third oldest member of the cult, resurrected multiple times over to serve his purpose, next to cheese parm & his sister. they are also the only one that asbestos seems to actively fear besides cheese parm.

EUNOMIA [ they/theminem ]

Eunomia was a minor goddess of law and legislation, whose name means "Good Laws", and is specifically a goddess of order according to good governance.

The second disciple. Known for learning the use of the Lamb's personally created curses specifically, though does know the ones Narinder passed on. They do not deem themselves worthy enough to use those.

Generally a very angry & spiteful person for a multitude of reasons. It mostly comes down to 'bearer of the curse' and the curse being knowledge.

They are the only one really permitted to 'backtalk' due to how much they actually do know their place.

they are very heavily disciplined under the rule of self-flagellation, and know the tenants and rites better than anyone else in the cult. even the head ritualist.

as said on paper. cheese parm's s/o. the significantly scarier one. they have not had a reason to be scary in a good couple hundred years! don't make them start now.

has 2 adopted kids w/ cheese parm they raise.

PANKRATIAST [ cheese parm ]

The Pankration is a sport of unarmed combat that featured in the ancient Olympic Games in Greece. This specific association fits as he's specifically an unarmed fighter first and foremost.

While not a disciple, is considered one generally in 'importance' to the higher ups of the cult. While he is no more important than Gallows, Othera, Minced Meat, or any other average member- he has the veteran's respect.

Was given a name by the Lamb, and since he does not speak, it's not like he can correct anyone otherwise.

well. doesn't talk. only ever communicates in vague grunts and noises that voice displeasure or a neutral 'ok'

Generally considered stoic, he does not feel strongly about most things.

The village executioner. The head missionary. Bartender. Does all the jobs no one else wants to do, and even others when no one else does it.

Smells of gore & wet dog constantly.

Knows. Remembers. Knows why death is broken, knows how it broke, will not tell Lamb or Narinder. He is a Witness.

Knows all the weaponry the Lamb uses & can use it just as effectively on a physical level.

The first of the flock. Will be there even when there is no more flock to have. As it will ever be, pinkie promised back in the Silk Cradle back where he was first found.

ILONA [ taco bell qsdea ]

a specialist in alchemy, cooking, & plants. Tends to the farms, gardens, & warding stones.

The first of the cult members Narinder warmed up to directly after descension. They brought him food every day, they gave him supplies, and other than the Lamb- they were the first to not be terrified of him.

They are very blind and often need a guide when they are not allowed to use their clicks and noises to find the way.

They are immune to Gallows' tricks and run off of the 'fae logic' of most things.

Their name means 'joy'. A name they decided on after speaking to Narinder for a time.

The first cult members recruited directly after Narinder's descension.

Immune to the horrors Somehow. There is something hiding behind those big ol eyes

Can fly. They have wings attached to their arms, and for it, require special clothes.

will be involved a lot in narinder plots

MINCED MEAT [ childbirth gambino ]

head cook but kind of as a threat. the lamb put them there for a reason. they are pretty mid.

constantly paranoid and in a state of fear or unease. Does not sleep because of it, and instead compulsively cooks almost all day and night.

most random screeches or noises in the cult come from this little guy

absolutely scared shitless of the Lamb.

The first Dissenter since the Lamb's ascension. They were made an example of. Now they will never. They have seen god's wrath, and would rather die.

narinder likes to bully this thing by hissing at him in the night

attached to beansnesed'd bsbisebies hip when in the chapel or out and about.

the prime example of 'the lamb is not a good person.'

ALOPE [ deep dish pizza ]

cheese parm's little sister. and borderline clone. she copies everything he's done up until adulthood when she started to become her own person. though it's been hundreds, if not thousands of years, she's still trying to figure out who she is.

made a pinkie promise to the lamb, just like cheese parm, to always be there. and she has!

ripped as fuck. like, more than cheese parm. huge. absolute beast thing.

the lamb prevented a fated death in her, the first time he ever did so, and for it her title is technically 'Saint Alope' within the cult for being the act of a miracle.

like her brother, never speaks vocally, never shows her face. gets across feelings through vague grunts. uses sign language where cheese parm does not.

the fastest in the cult. rivals narinder in base speed without using necklaces or unnatural abilities.

uses two ritual dirks or daggers at any given point, throwing knives, things of that sort. protects the village next to cheese parm, and you'll never hear her coming. totally, absolutely silent.