#eldritch entity that likes to fuck around with humans and see what they do

[inkspottie]

The apartment scene reminds me a lot of coraline honestly, like mr lopee being the other mother and the crystal being like the buttons. This specifically reminds me of the scene where coraline is first offered the buttons

Yesss absolutely. Lopee is doing his best to try and convince Seb to give him what he wants. He wants Seb to take the bait, take the deal.

He’s a mixture of Dr. Facilier and the Other Mother FOR SURE.

[clockwayswrites]

The bitties must cuddle. ""Birdtritch"" Part 5

masterpost

“Nightwing!” Tim shouted, leaning forward on his perch.

Nothing.

Then a black and blue stripped hand poked out of the green feathers in a thumbs up. “I’m okay!”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Nightwing,” Hood grumbled as he stalked forward. “Hey bird brain! Let go of my brother.”

“Aww, he called me brother,” Nightwing cooed over the line.

“…maybe you can keep him after all,” Hood said to the bird thing that had leaned down to peer at him.

The green glint of the bird thing’s eyes reflected off of Hood’s helmet. Then it blinked and in that moment dozens of abstracted cyan eyes blinked into existence around Hood.

Hood reached out to poke at one with the muzzle of his gun. It went right through the ‘eye’. “What the fuck…?”

The bird thing trilled back at Hood.

Tim tapped his comm to open the all channels line. “Um, so, we have… an eldritch bird creature that has been exposed to cuddle pollen. It’s is already cuddling Nightwing and… yep, yeah, now it has Red Hood. Don’t shoot it, Hood! It’s friendly!”

“It’s a fucking menace!”

“A bird?” Robin’s voice piped up.

“Don’t get too excited, baby bat, eldritch bird. It’s the size of an SUV and has too many arms. And eyes. Sorta eyes? And yep, there goes Hood, absorbed by the fluff. Oh great, it’s looking at me now.”

“Avoid the entity, Red Robin,” Batman said across the comms, tone clipped and worried.

“Sorta hard to do, big B. It has a lot of legs right now and all eyes on me. There so many eyes.”

“Avoid the entity!” Batman barked again.

Yeah, like that was going to go well.

-

“Father! Make this creature unhand me at once!” Robin shouted.

“Calm the fuck down, it’s not hurting us,” Red Hood grumbled. “Not that it’s letting us go…”

“Actually pretty comfortable,” Red Robin said in a voice tinged with the edges of sleep. Bruce couldn’t even see a part of Red Robin in the mess of feathers.

Bruce just sighed and pinched his nose. “Boys.”

“Did you just ‘boys’ us?” Nightwing asked, though he sounded like he was enjoying the whole circumstance.

“Yes. Black Bat isn’t involved in this at all,” Bruce said. “So, boys.”

Black Bat’s soft laugh over the line was mostly drowned out by the warble that the bird entity made. Bruce absently started comparing the creature to the types of birds that roosted in Gotham as the surprisingly long neck unfolded and reached out towards him.

He regarded the bird entity steadily.

It warbled again, tilted its head, and then started preening the ears of the cowl.

Bruce sighed heavily.

“Likes you.” Cass’ lyrical words came over the line. Bruce knew that tone. She was taking pictures for blackmail.

(And everyone said girls were easier.)

“I really don’t think it’s going to let us go, B. It might not even be able to with the cuddle pollen,” Nightwing said. Bruce could see the blue tips of the boots now but nothing else.

Bruce hummed. “Gotham doesn’t have the facilities to humanely keep such a creature.”

Robin hit the ground in a crouch and started forward. “Father—”

The bird entity reached out again for Robin with one of its too many limbs. Robin parried with his sheathed blade. The coo that the entity made in response was heart wrenching. Almost instantly Robin deflated at the sound.

He crossed his arms and looked away with a huff. “Fine.”

With a much happier sound, Robin was grabbed carefully around the waist and placed on the bird entity’s back, right behind its next.

“Get off,” Red Robin grumbled from wherever he was in the mass of plumage. Some shifting along the back feathers followed the sleepy words. Then a yawn. “The Cave is the only choice.”

“You can’t be serious,” Red Hood said.

(Bruce thought Red Hood might be clasped firmly under a wing.)

Red Robin yawned again. “Large, secure, safe for us…”

“Yeah, and how the fuck do we get this thing to the Cave?” Red Hood snapped back.

After a considering silence, Black Bat pipped up with that same mischievous lilt. “Idea.”

[meowcats734]

(prompt response) A girl grows up thinking that all doors are automatic, but it's actually the work of a polite ghost.

I'd thought the four of us had gotten to know each other pretty well at the Silent Academy. At the very least, Lucet, Meloai, and I hung out together for pretty much every waking moment we had, and it was a rare week that didn't see Sansen and I sipping slurry and brandy together in his comfortable, hand-built home. 

But as it turned out, hanging out together in the controlled environment of school was one thing. Trekking across the country and sleeping in the same camp for weeks was an entirely different level of intimacy that I didn't expect. In the first week alone, I learned that Lucet snored, Sansen liked staying up late humming to himself, and Meloai just flat-out didn't sleep at all, instead electing to keep watch for us as we rested. 

I learned other things, too. As the food supplies we'd brought with us from the Peaks ran low and I had to fall back on the foraging skills I'd learned as a child, I found out that Lucet was a surprisingly picky eater. I, personally, saw nothing wrong with the meat slurries that were a staple food of the Redlands, and the only thing Meloai ate was a couple soul fragments harvested from the gremsquirrels we hunted, but for some reason, Lucet didn't seem to be a big fan of the ground-up meat powder that I'd grown up on.

Explaining that the meat grinder was a metaphor for the constant violence in the Redlands didn't seem to do much for her appetite, either.

Things got even weirder when we started reaching villages. The first one we found—Hatebroke, according to the lonely entrance sign—was entirely abandoned, and stripped clean of anything remotely perishable. I was just getting comfortable with the empty village when a door suddenly swung open as Meloai walked past.

"Rifts!" I swore.

"Where?" Meloai asked, gaze swiveling.

"What? No, it's an expression—the door, Meloai. Did—you have to have to have seen that, right?"

"Uh, sure? But don't all doors do that?" Meloai asked, taking a step towards the abandoned cabin. The wooden door swung open with impeccable precision, and I could have sworn the hinges even oiled themselves as they moved.

"...No, Meloai," I said. "Doors do not normally open themselves as people pass."

"Really?" Meloai frowned. "They did all the time when I grew up."

"No offense, Meloai, but you grew up in a dead nobleman's creepy-ass extradimensional basement," I said. "I'm pretty sure that your definition of 'normal' is pretty different from human standard."

Lucet kicked me in the shin. "Hey. Be nice, Cienne."

"Sorry, sorry, I'm just a little bit stressed from... I dunno... getting chased out of the only home I had left by a fucking eldritch abomination? If this is Iola messing with us..." I took a step forwards and shut the door; it didn't open again.

"I don't think this is Iola," Sansen said, frowning at the door. "This... I think it's a different soulspace entity. And if my guess is right, it's one that probably decided to follow Meloai around ever since she left the Plane of Elemental Insecurity."

"Wait, so we've been stalked by some invisible soulspace entity for months now? How come we haven't noticed?" Lucet said.

"Say the part about it being invisible again," I said, "but slowly."

Lucet flicked my forehead. Ow, but I guess I deserved that. "You know what I mean. Meloai, does this door-opening thing happen all the time?"

"Yes," Meloai said, grumbling. "Not like it mattered much at the Silent Academy, since there were always so many people moving around that the doors were always open anyway. Look, I obviously turned out okay, and I spent twenty years with this kind of thing happening. Don't we have more important things to worry about? Like, uh, getting enough food for you guys to eat?"

"Well, hang on, maybe one of those problems can be a solution to the other." Sansen, by virtue of being older than Meloai, Lucet, and I combined, was the de facto leader of our little group of adventurers. "I've seen people come and go in my time, and I've even encountered the soulspace entities they've left behind. If this soulspace entity is formed from the soul fragments of who I think it is, then he's not going to be hostile."

"Didn't you just say it was something from Lord Tanryn's vault?" I asked. 

"Yes, but I don't think it's that puffed-up nobleman himself. He wouldn't stoop so low as to open doors for some commoner."

"Then... who is it?" I turned to Sansen, frowning. The old man had forgotten more than I'd ever know, and I trusted his judgement.

A faint smile spread across Sansen's face. "I think it's his old butler." He cleared his throat. "Meloai. Did the soulspace entity ever set tables for you?"

Meloai gave him an uncertain nod. "I... think? That's the thing where all the silverware flies into place, and the tablecloth straightens itself out with a whoomph, right?"

"...In this context, sure," Sansen said. "Did he—did the entity do the little thing with the three types of forks? The one with two little tines on the left, the bigger one in the middle, and that delicate, long, pointy one on the right?"

Meloai nodded enthusiastically. "See? It is normal for tables to do that."

"Oi," I muttered. "Well, I guess it's not the weirdest thing we consider normal nowadays."

"Yeah, that's ol' Mairel alright." Sansen's old gaze stared into the distance as he remembered. "He was my first crush, back in the day. If there's still enough of him left to remember how to wait tables and grease doors... well. Indulge an old man for a moment, will you?"

The three of us traded looks, then nodded at once. We may have been an eccentric little group, but we were tight-knit. We trusted each other. "Whatcha need, Sansen?" I asked.

His requests were fairly simple. We cleared out the front yard of the abandoned shack, smoothing over the dirt with our feet and hands—and as we did, something... else... joined us. Something that barely remembered how to speak or think, but still knew how to set a dance floor. Within minutes, we'd cleared a square of land, with Sansen standing in the middle.

And the old man began to dance.

Wordlessly at first, the waltz was an invitation. He took the lead, and empty air followed. And then, all at once, the air wasn't empty anymore. There was no flash of light, no thunderous miracles, but Sansen's steps became more sure, his weight more freely shifted, as he leaned on a partner who wasn't there but had been, once, long ago.

Meloai began to hum to herself, a wordless childhood lullaby that she must have heard when she was growing up, and the cadence of the tune matched the waltz to perfection.

The old man and the ghost finished their dance, and I felt a whisper of wind rustle around the impromptu dance floor.

Then the miracle was over, and suddenly, Sansen was holding nothing but empty air. He let out a long, contented sigh, memory coursing through him.

Then he opened his eyes, smiling.

"You wanted food, kids?" He stepped forwards, opening the door to the abandoned shack. Behind it, impossibly, incongruously, was a fully-set banquet table, resplendent with rich foods from an era long past, with three delicate forks set precisely by each setting. "Seems like there's something left of Mairel after all."

And the four of us ate gratefully, sustained by the memory of a ghost of an old man's friend.

A.N.

Soulmage is a serial written in response to writing prompts. Stick around for more episodes, or join my Discord to chat about it!

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[wjehfshs]

Ok I have an idea but i wasn't sure if I made it sense but here my idea:

So task force 141 had sent some rookies on a mission due strange things going on in the forest and but only one rookie survived and had they had camera to see what happen only to watch rookies get brutally murderer in a supernatural way like imagine you turn paper into a ball but instead of paper its a human body.

So ghost, gaz, and soap went to same mission only for them to be hunted by a strange entity and they run for there life's but they meet eldritch!pacifist!reader that made them want to scream but they saved them from the creature they were hunted down but reader has no trust in them.

But they apologize because that creature was their sibling and then a few years later you get captured by the enemy and you get saved by the boys also reader tells them that their sibling is coming so yeah start hiding.

After their sibling takes reader back home next morning you give them a gift saying " I was wrong about you "

Also if your wondering what's a eldritch think of slenderman or some scary monster that has supernatural that was never meant to exist

Also here the power of catbow you shall sleep

Anyway I hope your doing well

Ty for the request!

Eldritch reader, gore mentions, violence, made this whole watching marble hornets so it’s honestly perfect, blood mentions, if you can’t tell I really like writing horror

The 141 had sent out some rookies with live body cams for some training

As they where watching the body cams of the rookies they heard a scream through the microphone

One of the rookies dropped their cam onto the forest floor

They saw blood, heard bones crunching, and heard screams

The only thing they saw was some, thing, almost floating up to the last guy who was trying to run away

All they could see was him falling to the forest floor and his body contorting into what could only be described as a ball

Blood was everywhere, all over the camera lens as the crunching of bones finally ceased

They couldn’t even get a good look at the creature as it slipped away but it looked to be tall, slim, and almost dead looking

“We are not going out there Price! Fuck no” Soap argued

“Soap im sorry but someone has to go out there and I trust you three the most mate” he snapped back

They all groaned, fearing that this would be their last mission before they end up mutilated and contorted in the forest just like the rookies

The day of the mission came, they had their gear, weapons, body cams, and flashlights

As they were sneaking through the woods the entire time they felt uneasy

That’s when it happened

Gaz caught something in the corner of his eye

Unfortunately that something wasn’t quick enough to hide

It was the creature that murdered those rookies

It was hunting them

It was frozen in place for a moment before it started to creep up to them in the distance

“Go. Go fucking go!” Ghost managed to splutter out

Their legs started moving before their brains

They remember looking at the creature, hearing ghost, and then running

It was all a blur

They knew they couldn’t fight that thing

What was even the point of this mission?

This was where they died

Their contorted, crumpled bodies would have to be extracted from the forest probably weeks later

Even from the other side Price was yelling at them through the microphones to “pick up the fucking pace”

They saw another blur to their right

That’s when they heard the rustling of leaves and then unknown sounds

It sounded like yelling but in a foreign language

But not in any language they had heard before

Almost cracking their necks while turning their heads around they saw another one of those things

Back turned to them

Almost protecting them

Yelling at the other other undead looking creature

after a minute of this it backed off

Sneaking back into the unknown depths

Before they know it they saw the thing turn around and apologise to them

Wait. What the fuck

Did it just speak to them

“I’m sorry about that. That’s my sibling. They don’t really have their morals in place” it chucked, voice distorted, ranging from deep to high pitch each second, almost overlapping with itself.

Soap put a hand to his forehead, feeling the sweat dripping down his face “oh my god. I’ve gone insane” he laughed to himself

“No mate. I see it too…” Ghost whispered to him

Gaz just opened and closed his mouth over and over, unable to form even a thought apart from “run”

“What. The fuck. Is that” Price carefully whispered through the mic

“Are you three ok?” You asked cautiously

“Oh! Right I see you must think I’m going to hurt you. I promise I’m not. I’m a pacifist” you calmly explained

Soap was the first to speak up

“I… we, uh. Yes, alright” was all he managed to say

They where in a daze

You silently went back to where you emerged from

Leaving them alone and scared

3 years later the boys where on a mission

They where to sneak into the enemy’s base and collect info

That’s when they saw you

In a cage, like an animal at the zoo

“This… THIS?! Is what saved you 3 years ago?!” Price almost yelled at them

It wasn’t like he didn’t believe them, he was just terrified to see something so… grotesque

The 3 of them kept begging Price to let them free you. It was the least they could do right?

Finally he agreed and they all busted the lock

“Thank you. But my siblings coming so if you don’t want to be a literal meatball I would advise you ditch the mission and run” you laughed a little at your stupid joke

They all agreed it was for the best

They got back to base and a couple days later they got something in the mail, but it was wrapped in leaves and bark, with no address??

They opened it cautiously and found that it was 4 flower crowns made of sticks and grass

There was a note that seemed to be written with tree sap on a piece of wood

It read “thank you for saving me. I didn’t trust you when I first saved you to be honest but now I know I can. Love [name]”

[boytumms]

idk this is maybe a öittle silly, but... A boy finds out ge's going to die soon because [insert reason here]. Desperate to prevent it, he makes a deal with some devil or god or eldritch being or whatever supernatural creature, to let the being impregnate him in exchange for delaying his death. But the catch is, for every year he wants added to his life, he must be pregnant for one month. So like, only willing to do the standard nine-month human pregnancy? You get nine years of life. Wanna live as long as the average human can be expected to so like 50-60 years more? Better be prepared to be pregnant for four or five years straight then!

Does the boy go in considering how long pf a pregnancy he thinks he'll be able to take, or just how long he wants to live? If he is willing to be pregnanr for years on end to get a long life, what do the people around him think of it, seeing him just become more and more heavily pregnant wuth no sign of giving birth anytime soon? Does he begin to regret his choice at some point? Does he take a shorter pregnancy at first, but begin to panic as his years start running put again, and come back for more?

Maybe whatever being he made a deal with in the first place takes a liking to him as a nice little plaything, and grants him functional immortality at the price of being the creature's fucktoy and be impregnated to carry its offspring over and over again for as long as it amuses the creature?

(also, blanket permission for anyone seeing this to write story or make art off of this concept if you feel like it, since i sure as fuck am not gonna get around to doing anything more with it. I have too many idwas and too little time to do anything with them anyway, lol)

oo honestly, getting a year per month of pregnancy kinda sounds like a deal, if you want to live an average life, I feel like 5-6 pregnancies isn't that bad.

Maybe a harder deal could be he has to be pregnant constantly to stay alive, kind of like he's piggybacking off the life of whatever's growing in his belly, he needs to be pregnant with something in order to feed his own life force. This would tie in nicely with him also becoming the god/demon/entity's personal fuck toy/breeder. They get to fill him up whenever they want and he gets knocked up in order to stay alive :)

[oletus-writer]

hiii! same anon who requested the jack nsfw alphabet it was really great btw!! may i request a hastur nsfw alphabet?

BLESS YOUR SOUL ANON. Yes. I did not think I’d get any requests for Hastur, but here you are, being an absolute chad. (I feel like this blog is attracting monsterfuckers, and honestly? They’re welcome to stay. Although it’s a bit hard to write)

Hastur NSFW Alphabet

Warnings: nsfw

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

He doesn’t particularly sure why mortals have aftercare, but he will clean you up, but that’s it. No praises, no thank yous, just toweling you down and leaving. Someone needs to teach the man some etiquette.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

Vanity is a thing of the mortals, and Hastur does not see any need for it. He quite likes your face - how it scrunches up with pain and pleasure, how open and vulnerable it looks, compared to his.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s got a lot of cum, and doesn’t care where he puts it. Sometimes, it’s better inside of you, or over your face. He likes it when you wipe it off and lick it off your fingers, without breaking eye contact. It may invoke some feeling of bashfulness in his unfeeling heart.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Sometime, he’d like you to fuck his human version, to see how it feels for other mortals. He’d be rather embarrassed and unsure of what to do, so you’d have to take the reins.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

He knows what he’s doing if the partner in question is Shub-Niggurath, but has no experience with other beings, eldritch or not. His pride will never allow that to show through his actions, though, and he’d try to pretend he does.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

He has no preference over positions, unless the position in question implies that he hid beneath you. While not egotistical, he still needs to get over that he’s fucking a mortal. Perhaps then, he’d enjoy it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

While his mini pet version may say otherwise, Hastur is the most serious entity in the room and does not like dancing, whatsoever. He is rather quiet in bed, and therefore cracks no jokes.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes?)

As his bottom half is made up of tentacles, he has no pubic hair, nor does he have hair anywhere else: face, armpits, etc. He doesn’t care if you have hair, for it is another frivolous, vain thing that mortals care to please themselves with.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? are they romantic?)

He may come off as cold and detached, but he is quite overwhelmed by the fact that you trust him, and eldritch being, enough to show yourself so vulnerable like this.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcannon)

I am too traumatised after discovering that hedgehogs, bats, elephants, walruses, turtles, etc. masturbate, but I’m going to say Hastur doesn’t do it often, since why masturbate when he can fuck the real thing? But when he does, he’s quick, discreet and efficient.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Hastur enjoys degrading you - foolish, lowly mortal, it is an honour to be fucked by him - but doesn’t particularly have any other kinks. Sure, he’d like to fill you with his cum and watch it drip out of you, but the prospect of having another child is not that appealing.

L = Location (favourite places to have sex)

The bedroom, since he has a reputation to keep. Yes, it is a mortal thing to care about other’s opinions, but he can’t stand having Yidhra constantly teasing him. If he knows there is no one around, he might fuck you in the middle of a match.

M = Motivation (what turns them on?)

Gods, what turns him on? He found it hard to believe that he was sexually attracted to mortals, since he never found sex appealing, but when it comes to you, he’s lost. He enjoys seeing you try your best at something; it makes him want to reward you.

N = No (what turns them off?)

He doesn’t want to have children, or make a family - he’s already got his son, and was, in my opinion, an absent father for the most part. Please don’t tell him to breed you, and don’t call him daddy. He’s had brothers who were half-mortal, and that didn’t go all that well (see The Dunwich Horror).

O = Oral (do they prefer giving or receiving? how skilled are they?)

Does this being even have a mouth? Most likely, he can just split his face in half and consume whatever it is needed to be consumed, so he can give oral, if one has a penis. With a vagina it would be different - he’d have to reach into you with his tongue as one might with fingers, and pleasure you then. He does like receiving oral, but he also likes working you up with his mouth alone (and serving you).

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

He keeps an average pace, not too fast, but not slow either. Although, don’t expect anything gentle or romantic from him; he’s a quite bit embarrassed about his feelings towards you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies)

Another thing that mortals do that is beyond his understanding - to him, quickies are like masturbation but with two people involved; it only temporarily satisfies you.

R = Risk (are they experimental? do they take risks?)

He’ll be more than happy to try some of the more tamer things, but you’ll have to do your best to convince him to do the more risqué stuff. He’s got an image to hold and a Yidhra hovering over his shoulder, looking for something to use against him, so the public and semi-public stuff is out the window.

S = Stamina (how long do they last?)

Naturally, as a god, he could last quite some time topping. Because he doesn’t have experience receiving at all, you’d have to be patient with him, and don’t expect him to last as long. It is a bit overwhelming for him, physically and mentally.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them?)

Why would he buy the toys when he could replicate them on his body? You’ve seen his attack animation and human version, so there’s no doubt he can shapeshift, to some degree. If you do not mention the prospect of toys, they wouldn’t even cross his mind, but is comfortable using them if you want him to.

U = Unfair (how much do they like to tease?)

He’ll tease you, sure, but that’s only if he remembers - this includes denying your orgasm and overstimulating you, but no public or prolonged teasing. He is a patient being, but doesn’t understand why some mortals take so long in to foreplay.

V = Volume (how loud are they?)

He’s got a lovely voice, and isn’t afraid to use it. While the noises he makes in bed mainly consists of grunts, he would talk to you a bit, degrading you. If you top him, it would mainly consist of heavy breathing and heavenly moans if you make him feel good.

W = Wild card (a random headcannon for the character)

Hastur swears. No I will not elaborate.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

(I did all this research and now you have to know) octopi have a tentacle that is their penis, typically longer than the other arms, called a hectocotylus penis. The erection functions similarly to ours - it stiffens - and the cephalopod uses its size to convince females to mate with him. However, the sperm is stored within the body, different with how our testicles are outside of the body. Yeah anyway tldr Hastur has tentacle dick.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Now, based off my research about the most common species of octopus (octopus vulgaris) breeding habits depend on the time of the year, the location, the temperature, the light, and nutrition. Assuming the fact he is part octopus anyways, I’d say that his sex drive will depend on the listed things, aside from how good you look.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

There is no need for sleep for a god, and he is no exception. He might lie there and watch you sleep, for a moment, before continuing on with his day.

[hlvrfreakyfriday]

(( so i've decided to repost the Freaky Friday fic here on the blog, to have one other place to read it besides just ao3. here we go! ))

HLVRFF: Chapter 1

It all happened so fast, Benry didn't even detect what was going on until after the fact. And by then, it was too late for him to do anything about it.

Being an eldritch horror from the cosmic void, Benrey had a lot of real fun abilities at his disposal. One of those being the ability to 'astral project' as he'd heard humans call it. He never really used this one too much, though. Until he moved in with Gordon, that is. He'd found that slipping out of his own body to go hang out in Gordon's dreams was a pretty sick way to pass the time at night, when nothing else was keeping his attention successfully. Or when he was feeling lonely. Being the only one in your friend group who doesn't need to sleep at night kind of sucks sometimes.

Gordon was… a little unnerved by the brain-intrusions at first. But he never told Benry to fuck off with that shit, as the night time chats with the entity were much, MUCH preferred over all his PTSD night terrors. Dreams never kicked in right whenever Benry was there, including the bad ones, so it was a win-win situation, really. However, if a dream was already in the middle of happening when Benry jumped in, the dream didn't just automatically stop.

He never thought much about it until tonight.

Benry wasn't really feeling in the mood for any video games, so he decided he'd go see what ol' Feetman was up to in dream land. He got himself laid out nice and comfy in his bed, slipped out of his body and into Gordon's.

And soon came to very much regret it.

Gordon was having a nightmare about Xen, looked like. From his vantage point, he could see the man fleeing for his life from something. He didn't see what, but whatever it was, it had the poor guy scared absolutely shitless. Benry could feel all the horrible emotions Gordon was having while sharing a headspace with him, and yeah, no, this was not cool. He needed to calm Gordon down, show him he was just dreaming. If he could get him in a more lucid state, the nightmare would be easy to knock away.

Dream-Xen wasn't set up the same way as the real deal was- but thankfully Benry was able to just clip through everything just like the real one, which allowed him to cut Gordon off as the human frantically made his way through the winding tunnels.

When Gordon rounded the corner and came face to face with Benry, the human let out a strained shriek, and looked like he was about to book it back towards whatever he was fleeing from before. Whu..? Oh, shit, right. Benry was playing the bad guy when they were all on Xen, so of course Gordon wouldn't be very happy to see him, even if he wasn't at the same giant size he was back then.

…Wait.

Benry was the main threat to Gordon and the Science Team when they were on Xen.

So… did that mean…

As if to answer Benry's unspoken question, a massive, pale hand came phasing through the roof of the cave, one of its sharp black talons nearly impaling Gordon as it did. Gordon fell to the cave floor and looked on in horror as the monstrous owner of the hand brought their face into view.

Gordon wasn't having a nightmare about Xen. He was having a nightmare about Benry.

The alien's heart dropped like a fucking rock at the realization. Dream-Benry raised his fist, looking like he was getting ready to crush Gordon, and that's when real-Benry shoved down the sanguine and shadow building up in his throat and dove towards the human. He grabbed Gordon, and then sunk them both down into the floor, escaping into another chamber. Gordon thrashed in his grip, desperate to get away, but Benry held firm, and flipped the man around to face him.

"dude, dude, you gotta- you gotta calm down. that thing- that's not me, you're dreaming-" Benry tried to explain, but Gordon wasn't fucking listening, he just kept screaming at him to let go and get away and-

They were both silenced when the sole of a giant combat boot came down hard directly on top of them.

------------

Benry's whole form jolts as he returns to a more corporeal state of being. God, fuck. Dying was never fun, even in dreams. He lets out a heavy sigh and blinks- wait. His eyes are open? Why is it so fuckin' dark, then? He looks around the room, and does see… a faint light, shining in the corner of the room. Focusing on that light, his eyes begin to adjust a bit more to the dark. It's then he realizes that everything is blurry? He moves to push himself up into a sitting position- oh holy fuck he feels so tired and heavy and weak. What the shit. He brings a hand up to his head to rub at his eyes… and finds that his cheeks are a lot less bony than he remembers. Benry blindly gropes at his face some more, and feels what is very clearly a scruffy beard that he very much did not have before.

"yo what-" he says aloud, cutting himself off instantly when he hears himself speaking with Gordon's voice.

That's… new.

And would explain why he can't see shit all. Benry carefully feels over for where he knows Gordon's bedside nightstand is, and turns on the lamp once he finds the switch, to back up the little light from what he now realizes is Gordon's night light. Okay okay, no longer dark, but still blurry as hell. Squinting at the nightstand, he makes out the general shape of Gordon's glasses, and gingerly picks them up and places them on his face. Ah, there we go, blessed with sight once again. Albeit still pretty fucking shitty sight. This isn't how Gordon's eyes are ALL the time, is it? No, no, can't be. That'd be messed up. His sight, and all of his other senses come to think, are probably just all discombobulated from being forced into the wrong body. Yeah. Totally. He just needs to give it a minute.

Suddenly, a scream rings out in the house, in a voice that Benry recognizes as his own.

Oh shit, Gordon.

Welp, 'giving it a minute' is now officially off the table.

Benry quickly hops out of bed (ignoring the foreign ache in his-Gordon's? legs) and bolts towards the door. It's here that he makes yet another discovery.

His usual powers didn't carry over with him into Gordon's body, apparently, as when he tries to clip through the door because it's faster than opening it, he just fuckin' slams right into the damn thing. He groans, both in pain (so much pain…) and embarrassment, before opening the door like a normal human person and books it down the hall to his bedroom.

Flinging the door open and flicking on the light switch, he's met with a very concerning sight.

------------

Gordon lurches up into a sitting position, reflexively throwing his arms up, as if to hold off the massive boot that was trying to squash him like a bug. It was just a dream, he thinks as he realizes that he's not dead or on Xen. Doesn't do anything to calm his residual panic, though. His heart is still going a mile a minute and… and that's not right. His heart isn't beating right.

His brain finally catches up with the rest of him, and he realizes that he's in an entirely different room than he was when he went to sleep. It's Benry's room from the looks of it, but… it's not right, either. Why is the lighting so weird. The light's not even on, but he can see, he can see SO clearly and- the colours. They're all so much more vibrant, and there's ones he doesn't even recognize. He can't even think how to DESCRIBE them, what the fuck.

Ignore that for right now, Gordon, you gotta calm down, he thinks to himself. Closing his eyes, he reaches a hand up to run his fingers through his hair. Doing such has often helped him ground himself during anxiety and panic. But instead of feeling his long, soft hair, he feels a knit beanie. He does not wear knit beanies. His roommate wears knit beanies. His roommate whose room he inexplicably woke up in just now.

Gordon's eyes snap open and he looks at his hands.

They are not his hands.

"What the fuck," he utters, barely above a whisper, in what is definitely Benry's voice.

No. No? No. No! This isn't happening. This is NOT fucking HAPPENING. He's still dreaming, CLEARLY he's still dreaming! He just needs to wake up. C'mon, Gordon, you can do it. Wake up. Wake up, Gordon. Wake UP, Gordon. WAKE UP, GORDON-

A scream rips out of his throat, as he feels something else in his borrowed body rip.

[baldursgrave69]

A Devil You Know

Summary: The warlock Gem has been blissfully free of her patron since she was abducted by the mind flayers. Of course, this could only last so long.

Word count: 1.8k

Find me on AO3 here

Adding a new cast of characters to the baldursgrave universe.

I hope you enjoy this fic about my warlock Gem and my brother’s character Syx, a young, naive amnesiac barbarian who Gem is on a mission to protect.

Gem’s feet ached as she and her companions trudged through the blighted village near the Druid’s Grove.

They had been out all day trying to find their way to the goblin camp where the druid Halsin was being held. Everyone, even Syx, was silent as they dragged themselves through the ruined village. As they approached the outskirts of the town, Gem caught a whiff of an all too familiar scent. Cherries, musk, and a hint of sulfur.

“Gem, are you wearing perfume?” Astarion teased.

“Dear gods,” Gem mumbled, hearing a loud snap behind her. As she turned her eyes met Raphael’s. The fiend, now presenting himself as a human, was her patron. The entity that granted her the power to summon eldritch blasts. A sly smile covered Raphael’s face as he adjusted the sleeve of his ornate tunic.

“For fuck’s sake,” she whispered, glaring at the devil. He ever so slightly shook his head, she was not to tell her companions that she knew him.

“My my,” Raphael began, his voice like smoldering ashes. “What manner of place is this? A path to redemption, or a road to damnation? Hard to say, for your journey is just beginning,”

Gem felt herself tense up as Raphael taunted her companions with that corny poetry she was all too used to.

“The mouse smiled brightly, it outfoxed the cat. Then down came the claw, and that, love, was that. Ah, they do know how to write them in Cormyr, don’t they?” he chuckled, grinning at Gem.

“Who’s this guy?” Syx asked Gem loudly. Gem grimaced as Raphael turned to the barbarian.

“Well met, I am Raphael. Very much at your service,” he said lowly with a bow.

“Are we talking to the mouse, or the cat?” Gem snapped, stepping between Raphael and Syx. Raphael narrowed his gaze in her direction.

“Neither,” he growled. “The fox, rather, hiding in a word: a silent observer - about to break the silence,”

Gem scoffed, Raphael was rarely ever silent.

“What I have to say merits some privacy, perhaps some more… refinement let’s call it. This quaint little scene is decidedly too ‘middle-of-nowhere’ for my tastes. Come,” Raphael snapped his fingers, engulfing them in white flames.

As the group steadied themselves, Gem felt a sense of dread in her stomach. A sulfurous smell assaulted her senses as she looked around, recognizing exactly where Raphael had taken them.

“There, middle of somewhere,” Raphael smirked, watching Gem’s face contorted with realization that he had brought them to the Hells.

“This is nice, where are we?” Syx blurted out, taking in the surroundings. A massive table filled to the brim with food sat behind them and Gem noticed Syx’s eyes grow wide

“Don’t you dare,” Gem barked at Syx as he eyed the banquet.

“The House of Hope, where the tired come to rest, and the famished come to feed - lavishly,” Gem glared at Raphael as he encouraged the group to feast.

“Go on, partake. Enjoy your supper, after all it might just be your last,” Raphael sang watching the group.

“What makes you say that?” Gale chimed in, eyeing the man.

“Call it a ninth sense,” Flames began to engulf Raphael, the room filling with the smell of sulfur. Astarion, Gale, and Syx jumped back, startled. Gem stood firmly planted, rolling her eyes at her patron’s theatrics. When the flames died down, the group could now see Raphael for what he truly was, a devil. His skin now red, horns protruding from his head, and large imposing wings stretching outwards.

“What’s better than a devil you don’t know? A devil you do,” Raphael chuckled deeply. Gem let out a scoff.

“Am I a friend? Potentially. An adversary? Conceivably. But a savior, that’s for certain,” Raphael glared at Gem, silently warning her to keep her thoughts to herself, lest he act on his power over her in front of her companions.

“What makes you think we need saving?” Astarion said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Gem knew Raphael must know about the tadpole. She had wondered why he hadn’t come looking for her yet.

“Come now, why play hard to get when you’re in deep over your tadpoled head? One skull, two tenants, and no solution in sight. I could fix it all,” Raphael smiled a sly smile, snapping his fingers. “Like that.”

Gem shifted uneasily, looking over at Syx. His eyes were wide as he watched Raphael. Gem worried he’d try to make a deal with the devil, she couldn’t let that happen to him.

“We’re not making any deals,” Gem hissed. Raphael smiled wide.

“I’m sure you’ll change your mind, before it’s changed for you. You’ll exhaust every possibility until none are left. And when hope has been whittled down to the very marrow of despair - that’s when you’ll come knocking on my door.”

Gem felt heat rising in her, an anger so pure she could explode.

“I’ll be there when the luck runs out,” and with that, the group was transported back to the blighted village, dizzy from their quick trip to the hells.

“Fucking devil,” Gem grumbled, looking over to Syx. He stood awkwardly, his long arms hanging at his side, eyes glassed over.

“Are we all alright?” Gem asked, moving towards Syx. He turned to her, a big smile crossing his face.

“That was wild, I don’t really know what just happened,” he said earnestly.

“Don’t worry about it,” Gem tried to smile at Syx as she patted his back.

Astarion watched Gem for a moment, the familiarity with which the cambion spoke to her was odd. Gem noticed Astarion staring at her and flashed him a nasty look.

“What’re you staring at, fangs?” Gem asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What? Nothing,” he scoffed, running his fingers through his white curls.

“You seem particularly miffed by this devil,” Gale commented, looking at Gem.

“He’s a devil, Gale. If you’re not ‘particularly miffed’ there’s something very wrong with you.” Astarion let out a quiet chuckle as Gem snapped at Gale.

“I felt rather flattered, actually. Being invited to dine with a devil,” Gem cocked her head to the side as she glared at Gale.

“It left a bad taste in my mouth,” she spat at him. “He’s bad news. We would be wise to steer clear of any ‘infernal assistance’.” she mumbled.

Astarion observed Gem’s body language, watching how tense she was.

“Seems like you have experience with that kind of help,” Astarion commented as he watched her.

“Any idiot knows not to make a deal with a devil. I don’t want to hear anymore about this ‘Raphael’ character. I’ve had enough of him already,” Gem hoped that her companions would drop the subject. She had been enjoying her time away from the devil that owned her soul.

“Yeah guys, let it go,” Syx said, draping his arm over Gem’s shoulder. She wrapped her arm around his side, giving him a squeeze in thanks.

“Let’s just camp for the night, shall we?” Gale said after a moment of silence. “I think I’ll make a lovely potato soup for dinner. Syx would you like to help?”

Syx immediately pushed Gem to the side, jumping excitedly at the prospect of helping Gale with dinner. Gem readjusted herself after being thrown off balance by Syx smoothing the front of her clothing. Astarion shot her a smirk as she steadied herself.

Later in the evening, as Gale and Syx prepared dinner, Gem sat by the fire with a glass of wine. The camp was alive, Wyll and Karlach sitting across from her as they finally had the chance to catch up with one another. Laezel was stood at her tent, grinding a sword against her sharpening stone. Shadowheart watched Syx peeling potatoes, rushing over to help him as he almost cut himself with the paring knife. Gem looked over to see Astarion stood at this tent, engulfed in a book.

With everyone occupied, Gem decided to wander off. She walked across a log bridge to a small ruined building. Finally alone, she sat against the cool stone and let out a loud sigh.

“It’s been entirely too long, Geminara,” a familiar smoldering voice appeared from the darkness. Gem jumped up, reaching for her dagger.

“Now now, that’s no way to greet an old friend,” Raphael appeared from the shadows, stretching his large imposing wings. Gem returned the dagger to her side, leaning up against the stone wall.

“I’ve had my fill of you today,” Gem griped, watching as Raphael walked closer to her. In an instant he was next to her, hand around her throat.

“Listen here, pipsqueak. You will treat me with the respect I am owed,” he growled, tightening his grip on her throat. Gem clawed at his hands, trying to pry them off of her. “Shh, we wouldn’t want to alert the others,” Raphael whispered, releasing his grip. Gem coughed, steadying herself.

“I have missed my favorite pet,” he continued, tracing his finger along her cheek. Gem shuddered at his touch, his skin almost too hot to bear.

“Now, listen up. I have plans for you, dear,” Raphael grabbed Gem’s chin, moving her head to look at him. “You will continue looking for a cure for this tadpole issue. As long as you do, I’ll keep your list empty,” Gem looked at her patron in confusion.

“Why do you care if I cure the tadpole?” she asked. Raphael narrowed his gaze, piercing into Gem.

“I can’t lose my favorite warlock to some worm,” he smiled. “I have grand plans for you my dear, in time. Now go, and do keep that pretty mouth shut, yes?” Raphael grinned once more at Gem, before disappearing in a cloud of smoke.

Gem staggered backwards, trying to catch her breath. What did he have planned for her, she wondered. As she paced back and forth in the ruined building, trying to gather her thoughts, a familiar voice rang through the night.

“GEM? GEM WHERE ARE YOU?” Gem chuckled, pulling herself together and going to find Syx.

“I’m right here,” she smiled, walking back into camp. Syx ran up to her, his eyes wild.

“I couldn’t find you, I thought something happened,” he said nervously.

Gem gave his arm a squeeze, reassuring him that she was alright. Gale handed Gem a bowl of soup, which she took and sat down next to Astarion at the fire.

“You’ve got a strange look in your eye,” Astarion commented quietly. Gem looked over at him, realizing he had been looking at her.

“What are you on about?” she asked nonchalantly, eating her soup.

“Ever since we met that devil, Raphael, you’ve acted strange,” Gem felt a nervous pang in her stomach. She was forbidden from telling them anything about her pact with Raphael. She didn’t want Astarion to go prying.

“Well, we were transported to the hells by a devil earlier. I’d say this is a normal reaction,” she shrugged, trying to appear casual.

Astarion narrowed his gaze, he didn’t buy what she was saying. He knew there was more than she was letting on, however he decided not to pry. Not yet. The rest of the night passed quietly, everyone slowly winding down and preparing to rest. Gem had a feeling she wouldn’t be getting much rest this evening, her reunion with Raphael still twirling around in her mind

[giantchasm]

let's hear abt the fucked up au

OK. So, as you may have seen, when I first beat Scarlet and Violet I made the following meme as a goofy little joke about how I thought it was funny another time travel plot came immediately after PLA

I didn't think it through much more than that at the time. But the post has been making rounds and as its popped up in my notifications again and again, I got to thinking...-

It's said in Scarlet and Violet that humans can't come back through the time machine. But let's humor the idea for a moment, just for funsies: What if Barry and Emmet did seek Sada out to get their loved ones back? What if it worked? Wouldn't that make for such a happy ending?

...On the surface, at least.

You see, there's a theory I've seen floating around about Area Zero. The theory posits that the time machine isn't an actual time machine, and that the Paradox Pokemon aren't actually from the past or future. This theory reasons that the 'time machine,' Paradox Pokemon, and AI professor were actually created by a legendary not yet in the game-- one only alluded to in the Scarlet/Violet book.

The going theory at the moment is that this Pokemon is some sort of eldritch entity that feeds off of imagination/desire and creates things based on people's wishes. That's why the box art legendaries resemble Heath's beloved Cyclizar and why the paradox Pokemon exist despite the holes in the timeline they create. None of it is real.

But if two people were to go to Area Zero with the wish of being reunited with those they care about, what would happen? Would it be like what happened when Turo/Sada went to Area Zero with the desire to see what they saw in the Scarlet/Violet book?

Would something be birthed?

What I'm trying to say is imagine an AU where Barry and Emmet get wind of what Sada's doing, go to the crater to hopefully be reunited with their loved ones, and are-- except... they're not. They're reunited with replicas based on their loved ones exactly as they perceive them.

They don't notice the things that don't add up. 'Dawn' and 'Ingo' behave exactly how they anticipate they would. But for everyone else...-

Things are weird.

Ingo doesn't remember how to run the singles train the way he should (After all, Emmet wasn't there.) Dawn doesn't recall conversations she had with Lucas or Rowan when Barry wasn't listening. Neither of them remember anything about Hisui despite historical records showing that's where they went.

...What's going on?

Their other loved ones would grow suspicious. Things wouldn't add up. But when they'd try to point this out, they'd be rebuked. Clearly they're "just not happy Dawn and Ingo are home."

So they begin to investigate the crater themselves and come in contact with some teens who claim to have entered it. Cue the Scarlet and Violet friend group also catching wind of what's going on.

And a shitstorm ensuing as Florian/Juliana, Nemona, Penny and Arven travel to Sinnoh and Unova to talk with Lucas, Elesa, Cynthia, and anyone else who might become wrapped up in all of this (I can see Looker getting involved) all to try and save Barry and Emmet from the same fate that befell the professor; AKA getting way too wrapped up in a fantasy.

But that's easier said than done. The two would drag their heels in, and it doesn't seem like 'Dawn' or 'Ingo' mean harm. After all... Koiraidon might be fake, too, and Koraidon is perfectly loving and sweet.

Scooby Doo investigation antics and psychological horror ensue.

[cat-appreciator]

I’m jamming together story ideas in my head, as one does, and I might actually have the beginnings of a plot? I have a setting *and* overarching character goals instead of just a setting! Now I’ve just got to figure how to solve the plot …

I began by rotating in my head an old idea of mine, itself composed of shiny things I liked enough to steal:

1. The idea of a landscape built over giant, ancient machinery. You may recognise this from MMORPG World of Warcraft’s Ulduar or Action Platformer Hob’s everything, but the real genesis of it comes from half a line from the song Dominion Road by The Muttonbirds: “he can see the engines in the hills”.

2. “The protagonist washes up on a mysterious island, joins a society of similarly stranded strangers, and must find a way off the island”. This could be Gilligan’s Island or Lost but for me it’s the basic plot of Cassette Beasts, a game best described as “80s Pokémon Brigadoon”.

A mysterious island riddled with enigmatic, gargantuan machines, snatching up shipwreck victims for unknown reasons, is a cool setting! But it sat there as a setting, being idly rotated in my mind, until it idly collided with a couple of other ideas:

3. The Tatterdemalion King. “Tatterdemalion” is a cool word and one I had idly appended to a different fantasy world years ago. The Tatterdemalion King sounds reminiscent of the King in Yellow. I decided that it creates an illusion of a physical form for itself by assembling various rubbish and scraps into a humanoid shape - which I may have gotten from Elizabeth Bear’s Jacob’s Ladder trilogy (otherwise forgettable, and Bear has some really fucked up ideas about neurodivergence which emerge in her sci-fi (and more recently her fantasy) writing). It’s also possible Pratchett’s Auditors got there first.

So now I have an eldritch entity sitting at the heart of the machine-island, reaching out its influence to snatch up passing shipwreck victims from other worlds. But “eldritch god of lost things” isn’t, thematically, a match for “giant machinery built into the landscape”.

4. The existence of the engines implies the existence of an Engineer.

5. From there neurons started to jam together furiously: the Tatterdemalion King is imprisoned on the island, kept there by the engines, for the purposes of the Engineer. It’s been reaching out, snatching lost ships or sailors, in the hopes that it can grab someone that can free it.

5a. The Engineer is probably not present on the island at all; it has robots running about to keep the engines running.

5b. These robots present a major threat to the human inhabitants in their shipwreck shantytown, because humans tend to poke around and interfere with the proper running of the engines.

5c. Why has the Engineer imprisoned the Tatterdemalion King? It could be as a power source, or it could just be because eldritch entities are inconvenient and not particularly nice.

Thus I have my plot: the protagonist washes up on the machine island, and has to uncover the secrets of the island and find a way to free the Tatterdemalion King in order to return home.

6. Thus I have my current sticking point: What exactly is the mechanism by which the King is freed? Once I have that I feel like I’ll be able to work backwards from there, but it needs extra brain power applied first …

6a. The answer is probably not “sufficiently large explosives to blow up the engines” or “assemble the four power crystals at the control dais”. To cage an eldritch god of lost things those engines are doing something metaphysical, so the solution must lie in how they’re doing it.

6b. ???

7. Profit?

[voidselfshipp]

I Bet On Losing Dogs

->Cw: body horror mention,hurt/confort,gif contains Fire,spoilers for TMA from episodes 77-83.

Summary: after events of Not Sasha and the death of the mysterious book keeper, Jon finds himself adrift with nothing to his name, falling back on the one person that he can,his eldritch being of a girlfriend,jerico.

->Only mutuals/Friends allowed to reblog.

Jonathan looked at the small room Jerico had carved out for him. This house,Like many things hes seen, bends to the Will of things beyond his comprehension.

Despite everything that had happened,losing his home and practically the entirety of his things, he still had found a place to stay,of course its the only person who understands what happened.

--Are you okay-- ah,there she is, jerico stands there at the entrance of his room. She looks concerned and her arms are folded over her chest like they usually are.

--Im...alright-- he lied, unconvincingly so.

--The hell ya are--She answered,stepping into the room, the safeguards she had put into place wobbling the mirage of her human form as the endless tumoltuos sea she had for skin breaks into foamy dark waves.

--Jerico ive burndened you enough by making you set up a place for me here

She rolled her eyes as she usually does whenever he says nonsense-- Youre no burden and you didnt make me do anything--Her arms wrap around his neck in a hug,he sighs and reluctantly hugs her, feeling shy and out of place. --You have a home here

Jonathan remains silent,face Burning with shame, his arms squeeze her and in no time hes burying his head on her chest,holding Back tears.

--You always have a place to stay here,this is your home too--She muttered, rocking Him side to side--cry if you need to

And her heart shatters like brittle coral as tears stains her shirt and sobbig falls past the lips of her beloved archivist. The Eye had gotten away with so much,she never particularly liked that entity even before Jon came into the picture.

He can feel her blood boiling,though hes not sure if he can sense her ire or he can feel her blood bubbling and pressing against her skin.

Tears fall past his cheeks like waterfalls, and she guides him to his bed to hold him better. She hates seeing him upset,stressed, she knows this is the peak of Many,many years of stress and dealings with the supernatural.

--We'll figure it out--She promised, voice soft and gentle, cooing like the softest Rumble of the Ocean-- first you rest,then you concentrate on gathering your strength, then we can see what we can do

--Youre always too Kind to me-- He whispered,voice Weak and broken-- I have no right in disturbing this peaceful life you made for yourself

--Shut the fuck up,Jon--jerico stated,voice firm and yet always loving-- Youre my boyfriend and this is not your fault--She promised pulling away a little to wipe off his tears. But the liquid falls down her thumb to her palm, they pool like water dripping from a stalactite. 

He sees her hold his tears in her hands, he soon stops crying as Curiosity takes over.

The water moves on her right palm, pulling and stretching as it struggles to acquire a form. First, Its a cat, that licks its paw and then does a little dainty walk to her pointer finger, then it becomes liquid again as it slides to her left palm,where it becomes a small octopus that waves at him.

--What...are you doing?--He asked.

--Distracting you,is it working?-- she asked with a knowing grin.

He lets out an annoyed,flustered groan-- oh my god

--Yes,dear?--She asked and he glared at her. The octopus waves at him one final time before It dissolves into steam.

Jeri giggled with joy and gave him one final big hug,he hugs back and sinks into his embrace. She pets and plays with his hair,humming softly to calm him down.

--My baby, my baby

You're my baby, say it to me

Baby, my baby

Tell your baby that I'm your baby-- she sings softly, he sighs under his breath and begrudgingly scoots to sit on her lap.

Jon rests his head on her shoulder,hearing her sing-- I bet on losing dogs

I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place

By the ring

Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down

I'll be there on their side

I'm losing by their side

--if youre telling me youre always by my side, you made it explicitly clear-- he announced,not loud enough to disturb her singing. He wanted to Keep listening,but he was going to be a hardass about it.

--Will you let me, baby, lose

On losing dogs

I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place

By the ring

Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down-- she keeps singing,ignoring her boyfriends brisk attemtps at playing tough guy.

She humms the rest of it, and slowly he falls asleep,emotionally and physically tired. When he goes limp in her arms, she lays him down and kisses his forehead.

--sleep tight, love-- jerico muttered softly, love in her voice that is as soft as silk.

Then,she returns to the kitchen, where she makes a cup of tea for herself. Whilist thinking about everything that has happened, her ears catch the jingle of bells.

By instinct she looks at her side and finds a New door on her kitchen, she already knows who it is and she doesnt care for a visit from a fellow eldritch being.

Yet the knocking starts, soft and then loud,loud enough that it might wake up Jon. This is what makes her Open it, "Michael" as he went by these days, couldnt enter her home (see: her realm) without her permission,hence why she opens the door instead of him.

Michael can only stand at the entrance, leaning on the door frame with his tall,too long of a body. His long hands and fingers Stretch into an unconfortable length And his grin has too Many teeth.

--well,afternoon Antiquarian-- He said,voice playful and sing songy-- why the sour face?

--Your presence--She replied without much thought.

--Tsk Tsk-- Michael scolded-- that the way to receive a friend?

They were barely Friends,mind you,she liked his proclivity to mischief but drew the line at murder-- what do you want?

--Just to check up on you--He replied,sounding so sorry for his friend who gives him a cup of tea which he gladly takes-- after all,ive heard youve been dealing with some rather heavy things

She rolls her eyes and drinks from her own cup-- things yalls lil war has caused, mind you

--Ah well, side effects I suppose-- he backtracks as soon as she glared at him-- I mean,unfortunate of course

--Youre here to revel in my pain then ill kick your ass back to your ugly ass endless corridor-- she bit Back like a pirana,  voice sharp like fangs and her growl echoing the breaking of stormy waves.

--Im only here to deliver advice,Entity to entity-- He stated-- Your love for the archivist makes you weak--

--Gee,thank you for the advice,leave-- She interrupted, going to the nearby kitchen aisle to fix up a few maganizes Back on the little spot she puts them at.-- and it doesnt,by the way

--Youre choosing a side-- he continued,a little annoyed-- Wether you like it or not,youre Siding with The Eye

--Tell the eye and The Spiral and The Web or how Many of you fuckers are there, that you can shove that war up your asses, I do not care for it-- she tries not to tip her hand but he already knows what shes trying to say.

Theres a brief, unconfortable silence, Michael hasnt moved an inch-- you really do love him,dont you?

She sighed--You already know the answer

--you know,Ive always admired that about you--She turns to him and raises a brow--I mean it! I really do! Youve always had more heart than any of us. Its impressive

He watches the corner of her lips twitch into a tiny,Tiny,smile. He chuckles and adds--Ah,theres that smile I like to see

--Im on jons side,get it through your thick spiraly head --Jerico stated, leaning on the kitchen aisle,arms folded-- ill stop this war,or if it happens, ill make sure you all dont damage this precious world

--Im sure you will--He finishes his drink and sets the empty cup on the entrance of the door-- thank you for this by the way,you always make the best tea

She finally cracked and chuckled a little-- okay leave,shoo begone

He nodds--Okay,okay im leaving. Good afternoon,antiquarian-- Michael said,walking into his endless corridor and closing the door.

--Goodbye,Michael

Jerico puts the two cups on the dishwasher and leaves to Open up the bookstore.

There was a war coming, but Jon wouldnt have to face it alone. She was there with him,even if he lost

[tigerdrop]

I like how you interpret benrey as a guy who just wants love and affection. A lot of people tend to forget that despite benreys weirdness, before Gordon came along apparently benrey was friends with almost all his coworkers and let them come over and play games. During gmans confrontation with Gordon, benrey interupts and harrases gman (a very SCARED gman) for his playstation information. And at the end of it, when gman leaves, benrey grumbles about how he just wants to play games with people. I'm pretty sure the only person benrey can't figure out is Gordon. Because benrey got along pretty well with everybody else except Gordon. People say that Yeah benrey gets along with science team bc they are also supernatural, but not everybodys supernatural at black mesa? There's at least some humans that have gotten along with benrey. An obvious answer: Gordon gives a lot of mixed signals and also over reacts A LOT. it foils benreys weirdness, makes it more obvious. Gordon points out things that Yeah, makes benrey seem strange. To anyone else, benrey is just a chill dude. To gordon, benrey is a cosmic entity thing that wont leave him alone. And I'm also not saying benrey isn't weird, or doesn't understand things sometimes. But if benrey did have a lot of friends like he said he did, then he must've done something right! Gordon is like a lil messed up guy! Jumps to the worst conclusions all the time, And with benreys chill attitude or impassive tone, that of course would clash with someone like Gordon. Which is what makes them interesting to write. Makes them interesting to explore their dynamic in many ways I think

god i love getting asks like these. benrey is genuinely a pretty normal guy, weird eldritch powers notwithstanding.....like, him getting along with the other AIs isnt really a consequence of them all having weird abilities, like you said. tommy and darnold dont even have anything fantastical going on! theyre both just normal guys......at worst, benreys awkward toward others. gordons the only one he pushes around, and he only seems to push gordon around b/c gordon initiated an antagonistic relationship by being unable to provide his passport (and then immediately doing his gordon thing of "being belligerent and rude for super flimsy reasons)

this exact point is what i try to drive home in this latest chapter of co-op game theory: benreys awkward and absentminded and, yeah, a little weird, but to an observer that isnt gordon, his behaviors pretty straightforward. he threw a shitfit b/c gordon was being super fucking rude to him from the moment alyx met them! and she may not have known exactly why he jumped to (what seemed to be) the nuclear option, but gordons not even self aware enough to realize that hes being a major asshole. and the reasons he gives for acting that way only make sense to him! to anybody else, theyre borderline incomprehensible

but like.....if youre looking at it through gordons eyes, like youre basically forced to do by virtue of the first-person POV in hlvrai, its hard to see a perspective beyond "benrey is a freak and a jerk and a bonafide Bad Guy". which is why im having a lot of fun looking at them from every other characters' perspective

gordon might have a point that benreys done some bad stuff, but if it was all just a game/simulation, by his own admission......how do you justify that enmity to someone else? sure, he cut off your arm (in the thing that you freely admit isnt real, and is just a simulation), but you killed him. you won. isnt that enough?

its neat stuff and i know i talk about basically the same shit ad infinitum but thats why i like writing them so much!

[tlscog]

So people who stay close to the MC will after a while also see the monsters haunting MC? How would the ROs react if they some truly gruesome and terrifying monster and MC's all nonchalant and says, "Oh that's Jeremiah! Haven't seen them in a while! They are pretty harmless actually, just occasionally gives me mild migraines and shows me gruesome ways in which I might die in the next few hours." Turns out MC has named pretty much all of the recurring entities.

Essentially yeah, or you can let them see it yourself - I am trying to find a blend between exposure and purposely allowing them to see what you see. So it can go both ways and can have the same effect on others.

The following scenarios are going to be during the relationship stage and not really super serious.

Sol

“Why is that here?”

I lift my gaze from my bowl of food, following her gaze to see a human body resembling a centipede with multiple feet and arms scurrying up the wall. It’s head is turned backwards but I can still hear the breathing.

“At least is not my cereal,” I remark with a scoff, “Let him stay in the corner, he isn’t hurting anyone.”

“You befriended these creatures-”

“Shh,” I furrow my brow at her, “If you hurt Anthony’s feelings he might just decide to come over and rip my spine out - really not in the mood for any shock horror this early in the morning.”

“These creatures have been haunting you since your birth and you decided naming them would appease them?”

“I will admit... it doesn’t help.”

“You astonish me,” she remarks, “It’s incredibly idiotic but I pitty you.”

“Aww, thanks,” flashing a small smile.

She awkwardly shifts close to me as she rests both of her arms on my shoulders, staring at the creature still doing its thing in the corner as she breathes out.

“I can tell you how it was probably made.”

“As a Eldritch you probably have had plenty of experience tormenting.”

“I devour stars. Not torture the weak and feeble minded.”

“But you do end up dating,” trying to mimic her tone, “the weak and feeble minded.”

Hayden

Hayden steps into the room with a bowl in her hand and freezes instantly, “What the actual fuck is that!?” I can see her trying to decide whether or not to toss her bowl and attack it or find a place to put it down first and not lose her food, then attack it.

“Woah, hold on. He isn’t bothering anyone.”

Following her gaze to see a human body resembling a centipede with multiple feet and arms scurrying up the wall. It’s head is turned backwards and its breathing is the only thing filling the sudden awkward silence.

“It is bothering me!”

“I can’t just tell him to leave, it doesn’t understand English nor does it care. Just ignore Anthony over there and just sit down, please? I don’t want to have it trying to tear my skin off.”

She shoots me a cold and icy glare before plopping down in the seat next to me, “This is so stupid, why did you even name them?”

“Easier to keep track... that and it makes them a little less scarier.”

“How is that working for you?” she asks sarcastically.

I admit with a chuckle, “Not really.”

Despite her complaints she is watching it through the corner of her eye, “I am starting to wonder if these little shits ever come into bedroom and watch us go at it like-”

“Hayden!? What the fuck?”

“Don’t act upset with me, I am supposed to be losing my shit with the thought that Anthony the human centipede is in the corner staring at me!”

Eris

Eris freezes the moment she steps in the room, she shoots a glance between me and the creature in the corner.

Following her gaze to see a human body resembling a centipede with multiple feet and arms scurrying up the wall. It’s head is turned backwards but I can still hear the breathing all the way from here.

She grabs a chair and sits down next to me, “Do they really not bother you?”

I shake my head, “Not really. I have gotten used to them being around me.”

She nods slowly, “I don’t know how you can ever get used to... that.”

“Anthony is precious to me,” I joke, “Something about being a human centipede in the most literal way possible has its own flare.”

“Still disgusting,” she then looks at me, “I am sorry you had to live with it all your life, but please stop naming them. I am not willing to...” she looks back at it, “have Anthony being a permanent addition to the team.”

“He comes and goes.”

“I’d prefer if he’d go.”

“Rude.”

“You have a strange fixation with naming them, and I am starting to think that it is starting to get to you and it is seriously affecting your better judgement.”

Tarragon

Siding next to me, he rests his arm on my shoulder as he stares at the creature in both intrigue and disgust. A human body resembling a centipede with multiple feet and arms scurrying up the wall. It’s head is turned backwards but I can still hear the breathing all the way from here.

“It’s hard enough knowing we have to fight them, and now they haunt all of us because of you.”

I arch my brow, “And you are blaming me!?”

“Of course not, but it is kinda your fault.”

“Well, Anthony and I have come a long way. So you can just leave me alone and go blame me in a different room -  seeing as it is my fault that I had no control in it.”

“Anthony? Really?”

“That is what you are going to question? Not the fact that you could have been upsetting me?”

“They have been haunting you since forever, don’t tell me now that I am upsetting you,” he rolls his eyes, “So what is Anthony’s quirk? He just sits there in the corner?”

“Occasionally trying to crawl into my skin.”

“That’s my job!”

“Into, not under.”

“Keep on being a smart ass,” he rolls his eyes.

Zhurumhan

“They really don’t know about privacy, do they?” he points at the creature in the corner.

A human body resembling a centipede with multiple feet and arms scurrying up the wall. It’s head is turned backwards but I can still hear the breathing all the way from here.

“They don’t,” I nod, “It comes to a point where they bother you in the shower, those are the worst ones.”

“I can imagine being bothered in the shower being a terrible scenario.”

With a chuckle, “Only when they do it.”

“Hmm,” he then asks, “You think Tarragon will throw a fit if I used my magic on it.”

I stop him, “Leave Anthony alone, he isn’t bothering everyone by trying to scale a wall in the corner - look at him.”

He keeps his gaze locked onto me, a hint of disappointment in his face, “You can’t be serious.”

“He will disappear in a moment, he isn’t even trying to hurt anyone over there,” I then whisper, “Besides, do you really want to provoke him and then he attacks me the next time I see him? Just think of the pain I will go through.”

“Then I’ll just kill him if he appears again.”

“You aren’t going to be next to me 24/7″

“I can be.”

“What if I need to poop?”

“They even appear then!?”

“Aren’t you even listening to a word I am saying!?”

[just-a-creep-babe]

What type of April fools pranks would the creeps pull

-tiny anon

I, ah, went more-so with how they act on April fools instead of what pranks they do, mostly just cause I’m bad at thinking of pranks :”)

ALSO I didn’t have much time to write this & I wanted it out by today, so it might not be as refined as my other writing 😳👉👈

Nonetheless, hope this is alright! ☺️💖

Masterlist: x

Slenderman

No pranks from him tbh

This tired eldritch dad is, unfortunately, probably gonna (unintentionally) get the brunt of most pranks—just cause he’s at the wrong place at the wrong time 😐😔

And, y’know, you would THINK that because he’s telepathic, he’d be able to get a read on what the lil shits are planning, right?

But nope

He never prods into the others’ brains unless he has a reason to (out of respect for their privacy), so he ultimately always ends up paying the price

It doesn’t help that he tends to forget humans have this specific tradition once a year

Otherwise, he probably WOULD peer into their minds to find out what they’re planning

It somehow just always sneaks up on him smh

There was maybe only one year that he just so ~happened~ to remember

And that was pretty much the only year he didn’t get fooled by anyone/anything ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Jeff the Killer

Oh boy

One of the absolute worst people to get pranked by

When he combines forces with BEN?

The two are unstoppable

Pranks range from the classic slime-over-the-doorframe trick to some of the most innovative, dickish pranks he can think of

If only he used his powers for good 😔👊

He can & WILL flip the entire mansion around, if need be, to prank people

Nothing’s off limits if it means he gets to humiliate someone

(Even though he should know not to cross certain boundaries smdh)

He pretty much always ends up having to do EXTRA chores for Slender as a punishment for going too far :”)

BEN Drowned

My mans is part of the aforementioned chaos duo

Being a ghost entity that roams the internet, he happens to get ~plenty~ of ideas to fool the others with

He will legit spend WEEKS planning ahead for what he wants to do, how he wants to do it & how it’s all going to go down

Again, if only he used his powers for good :”)

This day of the year is, like, legit the one & only day he plans everything out to a tee

He’s usually a lazy boi™️ but no shortcuts are EVER to be taken on April fools

His fave victims include Masky (it’s funny to see him get so upset), Dark Link (I mean, he’s not gonna pass up an opportunity to embarrass his rival), and, surprisingly, Jeff

He LOVES turning the tables on his prank buddy

Jeff tries to get him back for it, but it’s very difficult to properly fool BEN 👀

Such are the perks of being a super smart internet-lurking ghost, I suppose 🤷‍♀️

Eyeless Jack

Eh, he’s not too keen on the whole thing

He considers himself a bit too mature to deal with that kind of “childish behaviour”

He’s not very fun to prank either, because A) he’s got super fast reflexes, B) he’s got heightened senses, and C) if the others somehow manage to catch him off guard despite that, he’ll just be like “ok cool” and carry on with his day

No Shits Given

Still, knowing how goddamn chaotic the mansion gets during this time of year, more often than not, he tends to make himself sparse

Either he locks himself up in his room, or he sticks around the creeps that also don’t like the tradition, or he leaves and goes,,, wherever he usually goes when he disappears from the mansion sometimes

On the rare occasion that he does stay behind, he might help one of the creeps to get their revenge on someone that pranked them

But only if he’s feeling particular playful that day, which doesn’t happen very often

Honestly, because he takes pity on Slender, if he comes back to the mansion being a mess, he’ll help clean things up

Overall a good boi that deserves some head pats for not turning into a goddamn monkey like the others smh

Masky

Masky is essentially the 2nd tired dad figure that has to deal with “this shit again,” as he puts it

Except, unlike Slender, the others aren’t scared of him, so he might ultimately get the worse brunt of it (even worse than what his boss gets)

Something about the way he reacts just makes for some ✨quality content✨ to the others

And, just because they can, they like to film him

It sucks for Masky, because not only does he get his ass handed to him, but then the others also get blackmail footage of him 😐😐

He hates it lmfaoo

Honestly considers hiding under a rock until the day’s over

But, somehow, they always manage to find him & drag him back out into the fray

This poor manses can’t catch a break

Someone help him please—he’s too tired to deal with this 😔🤘

Hoodie

I know we haven’t gotten to him yet, but Hoodie’s somewhere between Toby & EJ when it comes to the tradition

He’s relatively laid-back & won’t actively go out of his way to fool someone

But, hey, if there’s a prank to be had like right there, who’s he to not go for it?

His pranks tend to be relatively low effort—like a joke or a lie or something that tricks someone into believing something kinda stupid

His victim makes a fool of themselves, everyone has a good laugh, then the joke’s over & people move on

Albeit sometimes, the gag lasts longer than intended

Like that one year he convinced Toby that slugs can communicate telepathically because of all the fungus they eat

And Toby believed it for many months until Slender had to break the news to him 😔😔

Also, somehow?? homeboy’s damn near impossible to prank

Many have tried, all have failed—no one knows how he does it 🤷‍♀️

Ticci Toby

Prank time! Prank time! Prank time!

Boy fucking lives for the day he gets to have fun & mess around with the others

Every year most likely ends up with him getting injured, but hey, nothing new there :/

Unlike BEN & Jeff, he probably won’t turn the mansion upside-down (both figuratively and literally smh) to trick people 

He’s more-so in it for the goofs

Like he doesn’t actually wanna humiliate or embarrass anyone too badly, ya know?

He’ll recruit others & form a prank gang because he knows there’s strength in numbers 😌✨

And it’s an unspoken code that those in the prank gang can’t prank each other

So, honestly?

Toby might be the most wholesome April fools-er out of everyone :3

[aturinfortheworse]

continuing in the trend of most of my creative projects - i am drafting a pattern for a kind of skirt that ive never seen before, probably because there's no good reason for it to exist. i have spuriously practical justifications for this but the real reason is that its fun.

all i know at the start is that the top has to fit around my waist and the bottom should be near my ankles.

thats it.

when i start trying to work out the pattern i do not even know the shape of the pieces.

maths, especially when applied to real world problems, has a kind of eldritch quality for me. it is alluring and mysterious and just beyond the reach of what my mortal brain can comprehend

but ive failed high school maths twice, which is often enough to have remembered some stuff. and i do know some other things about the skirt. I know that most skirts are bigger at one end than the other. I know that I want the seams to be straight lines. I know that I have a ruler. So I draw a trapezoid.

I spend a good (meaning here both entire and enjoyable) hour working out what length the bottom edge of the trapezoid should be. I can't measure it bc I haven't drawn it to scale - bc I don't know what the bottom edge should be.

I divide it into triangles and rectangles, bc those are the shapes I can work with.

I get enough information out of this monster to calculate the angles of the blue triangle, which tells me the angles of the GREEN triangle, which lets me calculate its edges which gives me the edges of the trapezoid.

The answer is 65!

I show this to a friend and he's like "The bottom of the triangle increases linearly with distance - so 58/110 = 5/y then x = 45 + 2y."

I, briefly, see a glimpse of the fundamental machinery of the universe. I'm looking through the eyes of an entity so vast and perfect that even this brief reflection of its sight makes me want to rearrange my life in pursuit of it.

Why the fuck am I making stuff? I have, at the outside, if medicine gets really good and my liver continues to hold the line, maybe ninety years left in which to do things. I have to dedicate every fucking second of it to learning about maths, I decide.

I realize I don't know how to turn that algebra into an answer. I definitely could work it out - I was almost okay at algebra! - but the clock is ticking on my one precious human life so I ask him for the answer.

It's 64.

Close enough! I know all the things! I can cut out the skirt!

It occurs to me to just quickly (one precious human life slipping through my fingers) just quickly check that hem length against an actual skirt. I realize that I'm actually pretty much just making a half circle skirt, albeit in two pieces.

The triangles are now irrelevant. The hem length is insane. I have invented the world's worst hobble skirt. Precious human life to live, skirt to make, maths degree to enroll in - I move on.

What I REALLY need, I tell myself, is half of a half-circle skirt.

Picture a flat circle of fabric. Cut a circle out of the center, the size of your waist. Put it on so the waist bit is on your waist. That's a circle skirt.

A half-circle skirt is the same thing, except that you have to cut a circle (your waist) out of a semi-circle (the skirt.) That complicates things a little, but there are calculators for whatever-fraction-of-a-circle skirts. You give them waist circumference and skirt length, they give you waist radius and fabric length.

But I want the measurements for a shape that is half of a half-circle. That might be the same as quarter circle skirt? I'm not a visual thinker and I'm having fun learning about maths, so I discard that possibility.

What do I need? I ask myself.

I don't know the answer, so I make a NEW diagram.

I realize that what I need is Y, which is X+110.

What I have is a quarter of a circle with a bit missing.

But quarter circles make right angles and that 40-cm-edge is basically a hypotenuse, right? What is a quarter-circle if not basically a triangle? If I find the other angles of the "triangle," I can find the other edge lengths.

How the fuck do you find the angle of a corner where a curve intersects a straight line? I ask myself. But that's coming at things backwards. Really the question is What can I do with the information I have?

I know that 213 is 1/4 the circumference of a circle. The 40-cm-curve is parallel to the circumference of that circle. Maybe the angles are the same for the curve as they are for the circle?

But I'm not convinced 213 is the right number, and that seems Very Important, so I go through my notes and make sure I've calculated the right circumference.

Waist measurement eighty, skirt length 110, half-circle skirt calculator, radius, circumference... wait, what was that first one again?

Forty and eighty and half all collide in my head and I finally realize that forty is half of the circumference of my waist. Because a curve that runs parallel to a circle is a fucking circle.

Well, that was a stupid mistake, I say. Maybe I shouldn't dedicate my life to uncovering the hidden mechanisms of the universe. I'll spend the rest of eternity distracted by the crankshaft of the infinite. And I still won't have a good winter skirt.

But I've got it all sorted out now. I just need the radius of my waist measurement. And my this is a quarter of a circle, so 40*4=160 cm circumference, chuck that in the calculator, radius of 25, all good!

The most complicated piece of math I actually needed to do was radius+110. Oh well, no harm done, no fabric cut. I'll take a break and tell tumblr about it.

And then I write the post and I realize that I found the radius of a 160cm circle which is still, notably, not my waist.

[augment-techs]

I'd like to learn more about your SDMI Aus, they sound very interesting. Specifically the Time travel AU.

0_0 Ohhhh, boy, of all the questions to ask about my love of SDMI, those AUs are some of the most detailed. Strap in. The Time Travel AU: You know that narration the Nova Annunaki gave us just before everything really went to hell, showcasing all the Children of Nibiru leading up to our disaster babies? The Time Travel AU started because I had this very weird idea of a group nearly identical to that, but working under the guidance and jurisdiction of the Annunaki. Who did not care about a treasure or a curse or anything that complicated--they just wanted to FIX THINGS. Then I thought to myself, "But I also hate what happened to the Gang's parents," and an image of the parents I actually like superimposed itself onto my brain. They're no good at being noble, but I figured if the reasonable ones had a little help, it would be nice (delightful) to explore. Because Jones came off as actually pleasant, but no-nonsense in post-Nibiru, I decided to give him every unpleasant thing I could think of and let him actually work his way into a more fitting redemption arc. Give him anxiety, give him a guilt-complex, give him not-quite DID with The Freak hanging around in the back of his mind; but also make him actually put some effort into his job, and reign in Bronson's idiocy, and recruit Janet as an aid before slowly easing her into taking his place as Mayor--because, I also decided to have The Entity get pissy and super-ultra curse him for his defiance. He wants to turn his back on over twenty years of haunting Crystal Cove? Fine, in that case he can keep his speed and his strength, but also can't leave the city limits or experience extreme emotions without getting horribly sick. Angie gets a pass on anything too bad, because I hc that the talisman around her neck actually served a purpose and she's probably the most put-together person in this group--despite keeping her knowledge of the unknown and the future away from her husband, because she figures she can shoulder that burden. No, I decided to make Angie lose her fucking mind as she finally paid attention to just what the hell Velma was doing in her "relationship" with Shaggy and drive herself up the walls trying to deter negative fallout and broaden her daughter's horizons when Angie wasn't helping to save the world. The Blake parents did and didn't need as much of an overhaul as I thought they would, just a little blunting of their sharper edges and some deep diving into backgrounds that there is no fucking way the canon was going to give us. Nan Blake has a host of mental health issues going on in the background that get laughed off as dark humor? Not here. Here she gets to be a little bit like every other Stephen King protagonist/antagonist with dormant psychic abilities from her house being built over the Entity's tomb and living in the Cove her whole life. Haven't decided if she can merely feel or see when a choice their group makes can lead to real ripples of change, or if I should give her something like that thing Mina Harker had when Dracula had a go at her. Barty Blake was the one I had to sit and contemplate on the most, because he both reminds me of Fred and Brad, but also like those movie stars from the '50s that could have been from another planet for all they acted like human beings. So, I gave him foreign heritage, a Trans-Atlantic accent, his last name coming from his wife, ties to royalty and the ability to actually use a sword if he has to; all from his sometimes forgetting words in canon and Daphne's dislike for the Swedish family that owned that graveyard reminding me of that weird thing between the Danes and the Swedes. The Annunaki possessing Nova is their emotional support alien-eldritch god and also kinda doubles as Miss Exposition and a pseudo-service animal to Jones having a bad time. None of them fall specifically into the roles previous groups filled in their inter-personal relationships or that whole element thing, because, again, for them it isn't about solving mysteries, it's about keeping their kids--and the world as an

afterthought--safe. Jones isn't a coward and could kick everyone's ass; Angie's knowledge is strictly focused on the occult and people as they are; Nan is vain and air-headed and could also kick ass, but needs someone constantly there to remind her to stay in the moment; Barty is very goal oriented, but unless something ties directly back to his family, it's only a passing concern for him; and Annunaki-Nova is the one that has help these idiots save the world while experiencing things from the perspective of a dog that can fit in a handbag. Then of course I'm working on a No Mask/Alternate Dimension/Not Everyone Dies AU. A Star Wars AU. Episode Tag-Canon Divergence AUs. Honestly, I have so many.