#let me fuck that ancient entity

[ninedigitninja]

Rook: Is that what Vorgoth is?

Emmrich: Oh, no one knows what Vorgoth is.

Rook: So no idea what's under the robes?

Emmrich: ...

Rook: Purely academic interest of course.

Emmrich: ...

Rook: Like you haven't wondered.

[somnoir]

How to pull a Batman by J. Constantine

John Constantine wouldn't say he was quite fond of children. He's not fatherly by any means so he knows that he's not suitable for raising children. It's just that he somehow ends up with a young girl at his front door (how she found the house of mystery, he's not sure). The little girl looked normal but she felt off. Too drenched in death to be a run-of-the-mill child. Her red hair seemed to turn into flames at the tips, and her eyes were eerily teal and glowed. Everything about her seemed wrong.

"Hello." She murmured, "Clockwork told me to come find you."

And she was just blinking, looking utterly uncanny as John reluctantly welcomed her into the house. "Master of Time?" He hesitated, knowing that amongst the many powerful beings he'd met the ancient of time had been one of them. A mirthful entity who seemed amused by the chaos and order of the multiverse. 

"He told me to give you this!" The girl fished out a glowing green paper from... y'know, he's not sure. 

And in mocking calligraphy the words:

"You owe me :). p.s. there's more."

was directed at John like a fucking signal. 

Great... Being indebted to the cosmic entity of time has made him a father.

He thought it'd happen one time. Just once. Little Jasmine was adept at the occult and got along well with ghosts, often playing peacemaker when one of them tried bothering Constantine. She was concerningly liminal for a twelve-year-old child, but she brushed it of for the fact that her siblings were either halfas or very liminal. Was he concerned, admittedly yes. 

It wasn't until there was a pounding at the door again did he start praying to any god willing to listen. But no. The sentient house practically dragged him through the halls and led him to where Jazz was eagerly waiting, a grin on her face. 

"My baby brothers are here!" She excitedly says, eyes practically sparkling as she grabs him by the hand. 

"Slow down, darlin'. They won't bloody leave if we slow down." He sighed in exasperation, before pulling the door open. Two pairs of eyes stared into his very soul, making his breath hitch.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What the hell was Clockwork sending him?!

"Danny! Dan" Jazz squealed, dragging the two halfas into the house. One with green eyes and another with red. 

"Clockie wasn't kidding when he said he's a sad guy in a trench coat." The one with green eyes muttered, still floating and staying close to Jazz and his twin. 

"Clockwork slept with that?" The red-eyed one unabashedly judged. "Another fruitloop..." The boy snarled.

John Constantine could already predict the future at this point.

Daniel and Dante take to the house immediately, haunting it to their hearts content.

In the course of four years, the hellblazer drowns in the depths of fatherhood, making sure that no one could find out about his children. No. Not even Batman.

He'd be damned (even more) than let anyone involve the best parts of his life in contingency plans and whatnot. 

His kids grow up to be a rowdy and peculiar bunch.

His eldest, Jazz, was turning out to be one hell of a magician. Especially in necromantic arts that he's tried not to touch many times.

The twins, Danny and Dante were little hellions that made him want to tear his hair out. Its later on when Clockwork comes to visit their children (because its joint custody now) that he's informed that one is the crown prince of the realms and to be king upon the expiration of his mortality, and the other was an alternate version of him and was dubbed the world destroyer. 

His fourth child and second daughter had come in the form of Sam, who had popped up in the house and was decorating it with plants he from different dimensions. Also, she was apparently a green witch that now had the powers of the spirit known as undergrowth. The house was green.

His fifth child came in the form of a boy with a red hat and a laptop clutched against his chest. Tucker had seemed so harmless and sweet compared to his older siblings... until John found him performing ancient egyptian rituals and casually hacking into the Pentagon for fun. 

His last (Thank god) daughter was a zoomie toddler. Little Elle had arrived three years after Jazz did. A five year old with such intense wanderlust that he was tempted to buy one of those harness leash thingies parents had their children wear. Also, like the twins in which she was the clone of, she was one hell of a child being directly connected to the speed force.

So in conclusion, John Constantine was the father of three children on the verge of becoming Ancients, a highly intelligent girl with a very deep connection to death, the successor of fucking Undergrowth, and a boy who could effortlessly hack into government systems whilst being a pharao-in-training. 

Batman must never know.

In the far future, John Constantine battles it out with Bruce Wayne, who's children thought it was a good idea to start flirting with his hellions.

Constantine: TO HELL WITH YOU IF YOU THINK IM LETTING MY PERFECT JAZZY PANTS DATE YOUR FLIPPY SON!

Bruce: SHE'S GOOD FOR HIM!

Constantine: YEAH WILL IS HE GOOD FOR HER?!

And then it gets worse once John catches the Red Hood displaying some ghostly courting behaviour towards Dan. And he's just.

Constantine: Tell your children to back off.

Bruce: You think I haven't tried???

Then comes Danny and Tim with their unhinged behavior. Constantine isn't even mad about the fact that his son is dating one of the Bats. He's just concerned about the chaos with these two.

Bruce: okay, that one is not allowed. How do we get them to break up?

Constantine who's already witnessed Danny making plans to brutally murder Ra's for some spleen: Yeah, no. Good luck with that one.

By the time it's just Sam, Tucked, and Elle, he's praying it's not one of the Bats.

He really is.

Tucked is emmersed in his work but that didn't stop him from befriending Bart Allen and the current Kid Flash. Time travel is the one they usually discuss. (Dante and Constantine were very much on the same page when it came to keeping them just friends.)

And then Sam somehow ends up catching the attention of a daughter of Zeus. By this point, Constantine was preparing to fight god again and would have to ask his ex for a favor.

He's just so happy his precious princess Elle was being a sweet fifteen years old and wasn't daring crazy people.

(Damian was being rather suspicious...)

[weyounbathwater]

A donkey with a man's name was found playing poker call that a card ass ian lmaoo wait whats happ

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🪱 trillcore Follow

Guys, that same admirer left me another bouquet of Kilmarian daisies in my quarters <3

#personal #dax rambles #wishing for her

32 notes

⚜️ kaiwinning Follow

Gentle reminder that your pagh femininity can be damaged by engaging in unclean behaviors, such as violence, contact sports, rectal copulation, and real person shipping. Please stay vigilant and protect your pagh in the name of the Prophets!

#kai speaks #religion #the prophets #pagh #pagh hacks

98 notes

⚾ captainsiskoofficial Follow

So, was anyone going to inform me that someone installed this ancient program onto the station's computer, or did everyone assume that I would eventually learn from Jake?

9 notes

🛸 nogging5 🔁 jakeykeykey Follow

📰 jakeykeykey Follow

🛸 nogging5 Follow

Jake, I'm starting to worry about your obsession with "ancient" humor....

544 notes

🛠️ chiefengineer1 🔁 moremorn Follow

🍺 moremorn Follow

🛠️ chiefengineer1 Follow

How are you doing that?

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🍞 bababariel Follow

It seems as though I have returned, but as an entity inside the station computer.

#there are a lot of us in here

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🐊 cardassianpride Follow

Vent. Don't reblog.

#How long has my ex wife been sleeping with my guls?! #I just caught her doing it with the new recruit #and she tried to tell me this shit about how since I do it all the #time then she can do it too? #and I tried to explain but she just said that we aren't #married anymore so I can't tell her what to do #the state of the cardassian family is in fucking pieces #cardassia is doomed in the hands of women like these #ugh I need to call *** ***** to feel better #vent

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To the last anon: no, the Grand Nagus will not give personal advice to anyone who makes under four million slips of latinum per fiscal year. This was outlined in the Nagus' own rulebook in volume 3, section 387, paragraph 910. You would know this if you had done your own research. Stop asking for more clarification or you will be audited.

#finance #commerce #cw audit #mod b

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🍾 kanar-gul Follow

Repair station pussy really hit different

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🐊 cardassianpride 🔁 cardassianpride Follow

All of these beautiful bajoran women ready to serve the state make me fit to burst 😍😍😍

🐊 cardassianpride Follow

WRONG BLOG WRONG BLOG WRONG BLOG

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Hello, friends! What a wonderful opportunity for me to introduce myself using this, delightful, quaint social media experience! Let me, as the first Dominion representative on this platform, extend my warm welcome to the citizens of the Alpha Quadrant!

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[mire1li]

Reader as Alastor's Mother part 2

Part 1!, Part 3!

𓋼 You would absolutely decorate his microphone with a bunch of ribbons you found!

And he would absolutely allow it in fear of upsetting you, although he began to take them off later on when he had to leave, but seeing you get sad at his actions changed his mind… It did not help that the ribbons were glittery.

“Oh look, Sparkles got sparklier!” Angel had said when Alastor was passing by.

𓋼 He wants you to be happy but don't even try having feelings for anyone in hell, they'll most likely 'disappear under mysterious circumstances' and then you'll just so happen to hear their screams on Alastor's radio broadcast <3

Lucifer tries to flirt everytime he sees you outside (or once he comes back to see the hotel which… would be 'some' time later…) But it's not long before Alastor shows up bcs he has a shadow follow you everywhere

“My mother certainly would not want someone so… ancient…”

“are you trying to make me sound like a fossil?”

“Maybe~ I can’t say for sure though!”

"Y'know, I've stolen wives before… maybe it's time to steal a mother instead!"

"I'm going to fucking kill you"

𓋼 Lucifer would play silly games with you and bring you gifts by leaving them at the hotel’s doorstep, although you never received any (like he thought you did) because Alastor would always take them before you saw them. Or he would make them his own to give to you if you were having a worse day than usual!

“Mother, I had noticed that you weren’t feeling all too great so I brought you a wonderful gift!”

“Oh, thank you, darling!”

Your mood always brightened when he gave you these gifts. 𓋼 One time when Lucifer visited the hotel, he went straight to you to ask you about how you liked the gifts.

"[Name]! Hello, deer, how are you? Did you like the gifts that I left you?"

"Hello Luci, I'm fine, thank you! … Gifts? what gifts?"

"The ones… that I left on the doorstep of the hotel!"

"I dont recall seeing any gifts there… but Alastor recently started leaving the hotel more often! Not for very long though…"

And then Lucifer realised. You never received his gifts because Alastor got to them first! After that, he made sure to put a note with his signature on them. Though, that still didn't deter Alastor, to Lucifer's dismay.

𓋼 One time, Angel returned to the hotel at an unreasonably late hour, so you went to make sure everything was alright.

"Are you alright, Angel?"

"Huh? No, I'm totally fucked!"

"Why? What happened?"

"You know Valentino right? My boss?"

"Of course I do, everyone hates him quite a bit here and you always talk about him"

"Right, well, fuckin' Val made me work an extra 10 hours!"

"He what?!"

"Yeah! Absolute bitch move."

Naturally, Alastor was watching and listening to you two so you turned to him, with quite the menacing look in your eyes.

"Oh Alastor, prepare your radio broadcast!~"

𓋼 You noticed that most of the residents of the hotel all came to you for advice quite often (except Niffty, she's just an entirely different entity)

"It seems they have become quite fond of you, Mother"

"They have, haven't they?"

Alastor's expression was always one of annoyance whenever someone came to you for help. He wouldn't dare admit it, but he was most certainly jealous of anyone who even stood too close to you, let alone talked to you.

𓋼 Because of that one time that Alastor stood right next to Charlie to spite Lucifer, Lucifer decided to stand just that close to you to get back at him.

"An eye for an eye, Mr Radio!"

"I recommend you watch yourself."

𓋼 One time, when you were out of the hotel and walking around Hell with Alastor, Vox just so happened to see you on one of his tv screens, Valentino sitting by him, messaging someone.

"Hey Val, who the fuck is that with that old-timey prick?"

"Hm? No clue."

"You didn't even look, fuckhead"

"How would you know? You're too busy eyefucking Alastor."

"I am not"

"She's probably just another one of those redemption hotel idiots. It doesn't matter"

But Vox still just glared at the screen.

𓋼 Vox continued to keep an eye on you, seeing just how wonderful you are and so when you were outside the hotel alone (or so he thought) he went up to you. Somehow he didn't catch onto the fact that you're Alastor's mother.

"Hello-"

"What do you think you're doing?" Alastor, of course, suddenly appeared out of thin air, standing in between you and Vox, with an even more annoyed smile than usual.

"Alastor, is this another one of your friends?"

"No-"

"Yes, absolutely, ma'am. Great friends, in fact!"

"Ha! Well, you see, this is my Mother."

"Your what?"

Yeah, Alastor simply walked away with you whilst Vox was buffering.

𓋼 Vox constantly tried to talk to you alone but Alastor was always there to stop him, so unfortunate.

"Would you stay away from my Mother, you-! Ahem, my apologies, Mother."

"Hah! Your mother? I think you meant our mother!"

𓋼 Alastor would absolutely cover your ears when swearing at, or insulting, anyone.

𓋼 When you first met Valentino, you were so mad at him on Angel's behalf that you knocked him out and brought him back to the hotel with you. Of course, Vox was there with Val but he was like a lost duckling, just slowly trailing behind you, unsure what to do.

"I'm back!"

"What the fuck did you do??" Angel was lying down on the couch when you entered, dragging the unconcious Valentino behind you.

"A favour to you and hell!"

"No, but how?!"

"That's a secret~"

"Ok… so why'd ya bring him here?"

"Redemption"

𓋼 Back to Lucifer! He would tell you random animal facts to try and impress you! He would also unironically ask around, and search up (if necessary), how to impress a woman.

𓋼 Lucifer would suddenly start playing the violin for everyone in the hotel 'for everyones' entertainment' as he called it. (It was meant for you though). Each time Lucifer did this, Alastor told you that something important happened that required your attention. You always stayed for the beginning though.

𓋼 One day, you were baking cookies and you and Alastor left the kitchen for a while whilst they were in the oven, however, you both somehow managed to forget about them… so when the smoke alarm suddenly rang, you ran into the kitchen, everyone wondering what happened.

"Fuck!"

"Language, Mother."

"Don't you 'language' me, young man!"

𓋼 You redecorated his room. He wasn't a fan of all the new colours, but he still appreciated the gesture. (There was a lot of glitter involved)

𓋼 After a while of you staying there, everyone definitely sees you as a mother figure (Alastor didn't appreciate this much either but he's willing to look past it for his friends)

𓋼 As small gifts, you made everyone items that resemble them and filled them with different colours of glitter and paper that remind you of them. Bonus: Behind the scenes! 1. Yuri's bad timing:

2. Vox and Val:

[shizuturnspages]

PLEASE hear me out yan ajaw whether hes taken over kinich or made a contract with us like kinich has POTENTIAL and ill DIE ON THIS HILL

and if its the latter u can annoy him and he cant do shit we finna become a bully with this one

... how about both?

Ajaw Taking Over Kinich

❥ When Ajaw takes over Kinich, you’re no longer dealing with just a yandere—now you’ve got this ancient being level of possessiveness wrapped in Kinich’s body. His obsession? Fucking amplified. Ajaw doesn’t just want you—he needs you like a force of nature, like the sun fucking needs to rise. You’re not just a person to him; you’re his divine claim. And this isn’t some subtle obsession—Ajaw’s got that “I will literally destroy worlds if you leave me” kind of energy. It’s overwhelming and all-consuming.

❥ Kinich might still be in there somewhere, but Ajaw’s taken over, and he’s using Kinich’s love for you to fuel his own fucking twisted desires. Imagine that—Kinich still loves you, but it’s buried under Ajaw’s possessive rage, and that makes this shit even more terrifying. Ajaw’s merciless, and Kinich’s gentle nature is just another weapon to get you to submit. One minute you’re being coaxed in softly by Kinich’s memories, the next? Ajaw’s locking you away, claiming you’re his and only his. Forever.

❥ With Ajaw in control, you’re untouchable—but it comes with a fucking price. You belong to him, and he’s going to make sure everyone knows it. This isn’t just regular protection—it’s on a divine level. Anyone who even looks at you? Gone. He’ll bring down the full force of his godly power to keep you safe, and if that means erasing threats from existence? So be it. You’re his, and he’ll ensure no one ever comes between you, even if it means sacrificing the world to keep you close.

Ajaw’s Contract with You

❥ In this scenario, Ajaw’s not taking over Kinich—he’s making a contract with you. And let’s be real, he didn’t want this shit. He’s a powerful, ancient entity, and now he’s bound to you, someone who’s more than happy to mess with him at every turn. And he can’t do shit about it. You’re his contracted partner, and he’s supposed to be controlling the situation, but you’ve turned the tables. He’s stuck, and you’re having the time of your fucking life making him squirm.

❥ Now that Ajaw’s bound to you, he’s technically at your command—but he’s not happy about it. You can push his buttons, tease him, and get under his skin in ways no one else could dare. He’s used to being worshipped, feared, and obeyed. But you? You’re treating him like a toy, poking fun at his divine powers, and reminding him he’s stuck with you. And that pisses him off in the best way. He tries to act all cold and detached, but deep down? You’re the one driving him fucking crazy.

❥ The more you tease him, the more fucking obsessed he gets. Ajaw isn’t used to someone who doesn’t cower in front of him, and that only makes his obsession burn hotter. He tries to keep control, tries to act like h.e’s the one in charge, but you keep flipping the script. You bully him, annoy him, and he can’t do shit to stop it. And the worst part for him? He likes it. You’re the only one who challenges him, the only one who doesn’t fall in line, and it fucking drives him wild.

❥ You know those moments when you’re really pissing him off, and he wants to punish you but can’t? That’s where the petty god shit comes in. He’ll try to get back at you in the most ridiculous ways—subtly messing with your day-to-day life, making things inconvenient, like blocking the sun for a few hours or causing minor natural disasters just to make you mad. But the more he tries to assert dominance, the more you push back. You two are in a constant back-and-forth, and honestly? It’s fucking hilarious.

❥ Even though you’re bullying the hell out of him, Ajaw’s possessiveness never fucking fades. If anyone else tries to get close to you? Oh, they’re fucking gone. He might be bound to your contract, but he’ll still pull some divine shit to make sure no one else gets near you. And deep down, you know he’s obsessed. No matter how much you tease him, at the end of the day, Ajaw’s burning need for you is so intense it practically consumes him. You hold all the cards, but fuck, does he love playing your game.

[fizzy-fizzy]

THEY DID THIS WITH HER HALLOWEEN VERSION TOO AND I CANNOT FATHOM HOW MUCH ANGUISH AND RAGE I FEEL

MALUGAZ, WHEN I CATCH YOU MALUGAZ, MALUGAZ WHEN I CATCH YOU. (Yes, I am salty about the fact SHES the optional boss now and not the power greedy hog...)

Guys, hear me out

[disillusioneddanny]

Barbie and Ken {Dead on Main}

The light flashed bright in Danny’s eyes, momentarily blinding him as he held the sign with his name up. He couldn’t believe this was happening. When Jazz had told him that she was going to set him up with a coworker of hers, Danny was expecting a nice night at dinner where they had some wine, talked about shared interests and all that jazz. 

What he got instead was a knock out drag out fight with a bastard who immediately started throwing hands as soon as Danny had walked into the restaurant! He hadn’t even gotten to meet this guy that Jazz was setting him up with! 

She had set him up with an English teacher at the school she was working at. The siblings had moved to Gotham together as soon as Danny had graduated from high school. In that time Jazz enrolled in Gotham University and got her degree in Chemistry and her teaching license. 

Danny decided to go to school for linguistics. When you already know all the dead languages and most languages come from those, the idea of studying all of the others just sounded neat. 

But none of that mattered now. 

Why?

Because Danny Fenton was in fucking jail. 

He scoffed as the police officer booking him in had him step away from the camera and put in his finger prints before escorting him to the hallway where the jackass he fought was already waiting, handcuffed and leaning against the wall, a scowl on his face. All Danny wanted to do was meet this Jason Todd guy that Jazz had been talking up for weeks and instead he got some fucking liminal prick who wanted to fight instead. 

Which usually, the halfa was all for getting into a fun ghost fight! Even with fellow halfas or liminals. But not when he’s supposed to be on a date! Not when he’s trying to make himself look good for a guy who sounds like a match made in heaven for him!

Sure, the fight was a lot of fun, and it was the first time in years that he got to fight another ectoplasmic entity, but that was beside the point! Now Jason was going to think that Danny was nothing more than a criminal. 

Oh, Danny hoped to the ancients that Jason hadn’t seen his fight with the liminal. He hoped to anyone who was listening, to Clockwork, to the Ghost Queen, anyone who was willing to listen to his pleas, they had to make it where Jason didn’t see him get arrested. 

“Todd, Fenton! Follow me,” a guard shouted, Danny glanced over at the asshole and raised an eyebrow. 

“Todd?” He said incredulously. 

“Fenton?” The man asked with a disbelieving laugh of his own. 

“Danny,” Danny said with a small smile, trying not to lose his shit. If his fucking date was the same guy with that fantastic left hook, he was going to lose his mind. 

“Jason,” he said, letting out another chuckle. “Jazz was right, we did have instant chemistry, but not for the reason she thought. I’m fuckin’ sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never just attacked someone before. Well, not like that, at least,” he said, shaking his head as the two followed behind the guard. 

The officer snapped at the two to shut up and Danny held back a sigh as he glanced over at the liminal. It was likely that Jason didn’t even know he was liminal and damn, that was a story that Danny wanted to hear as soon as possible. In the meantime, though, he looked this Jason Todd up and down and smiled to himself. 

Jazz definitely knew what Danny’s type was. That was for damn sure. 

Jason Todd was built like a goddamn tank. While Danny still managed to be taller than him by a few inches thanks to that Fenton height, the six foot man stood tall and buff compared to Danny’s own tall and lanky. He was absolutely sure that Jason could throw him around like a rag doll if Danny let him and by the ancients would Danny let him. 

The freckles that smattered across the bridge of Jason’s nose reminded Danny of some of his favorite constellations. If he looked close enough he bet he could find quite a few, just looking where he was he found ursa minor, polaris sat right at the tip of Jason’s nose. He wanted to trace each and every constellation on his skin. 

“Don’t worry about it, I have a punchable face,” Danny said with a laugh as the two got shoved into a holding cell together. He turned to the officer and called after him. “Don’t we get a phonecall!”

“Shut the fuck up,” the officer said before walking away. 

“Gotta love Gotham’s finest,” Jason said with a chuckle as he sat on a metal bed with a pitiful paper thin mattress on top of it and a threadbare blanket laid on top. Danny took a seat beside him and let out a breath of air. 

“Well, this wasn’t what I was planning for our first date,” Danny said softly. “I was thinking we’d get dinner, probably bail because I’m not big on fancy dinners and it was Jazz’s idea and then we could go walk around together and talk about books and the fact that the smog in Gotham is terrible.”

“That does sound fun,” Jason said with a chuckle. He glanced over at Danny and gave him a small smile. “You’re not what I was expecting. I mean you’re a lanky mother fucker but that punch to the jaw was no joke, I think it’s already bruising.”

Danny chuckled and took Jason’s face in his hands and turned his face to the side to look at where he had punched him to the face. “Yeah it’s bruising,” he said but smiled softly before he allowed his hand to ice over and pressed it against the bruise. “How’s that feel?”

“Better,” Jason said with a sigh as he smiled up at Danny. “You’re a meta?”

The halfa let out a soft hum. “In a way, does it count if you died in a freak lab accident and then came back wrong and with weird ghost powers?”

Jason looked at him startled before he threw back his head and let out a laugh of his own. “I’m jealous, all I got when I died and came back wrong was a white streak in my hair and an intense rage that never really goes away.”

Danny tilted his head and looked Jason over for a moment before he noticed the little ball of a blob ghost that seemed to be gnawing on his core inside of his chest. 

“Remind me when we get out of here, I can fix that rage for you,” Danny said with a smug smile. “And trust me, I bet without that messing you up, you’ll get some fun little ghost powers too.”

Jason just laughed and launched into the tale of how he had come back to life in the first place, telling Danny a wild tale of assassins and weird pits of ectoplasm called Lazarus Waters and how he decided to become a crime lord in the night while during the day he went to school and eventually became an English teacher where he found a passion for helping teenagers who wanted to go somewhere in life. 

In turn, Danny told his own story, about being a small town hero and later defeating the Ghost King, only to turn down the throne when it was offered and instead moved to Gotham with his sister to finally live a normal life and managed to somehow become a linguist despite the childhood dream of becoming an astronaut. 

He didn’t know how long they spoke to one another, but by the end of it, Danny had completely forogotten he was in jail in the first place! At least until a guard came in and opened the cell. 

“Fenton, Todd, you’ve been bailed out!” he barked. The two quickly got up and followed the man out of holding and into a hallway where Jazz and a tall dark haired older man stood giving the two twin looks of disappointment. 

“Hey Bruce,” Jason said, a dopey grin on his face as he looked at his father.

“Hey Jazz, thanks for hooking us up,” Danny said with a grin as the guard uncuffed each of them and they immediately held hands. “Now, I know you want to chew me out for getting arrested. But technically this is your fault for setting me up with a liminal, of course we were going to get in a fist fight. Also, Mr. Wayne, interesting to meet you, Jason has told me so much about you it’s batty,” he said with a wink. 

“Danny don’t you dare even think about it,” Jazz growled out, pointing a finely manicured finger at him. Danny looked from his sister to his date and smiled. 

“Thanks for getting us together, Jazz, you’re a great coworker,” Jason said with a smile. “But we have a date to finish,” he said. Danny turned the couple intangible and the two shot into the air and out of the jail before either of the family members could stop them. 

Jazz sighed and turned to Bruce. “I’m so sorry for introducing them to one another, I didn’t think that would happen,” she said with a sigh. 

Bruce looked up at the ceiling before he looked back at Jazz. “Would you like a drink?”

“God yes,” she said with a sigh before following the older man out of the jail. 

[hikarry]

Crowley's post-divorce assembled squad should be Nina and Anathema

No, they are not there to comfort him. They are there to give him shit and have drunk nights in his apartment while watching Golden Girls

Crowley: 6000 years! 6000 fucking years and all I get is an "I forgive you"?! He will see what he will need to forgive me for when I-

Nina: What? Storm Heaven and cause a scene?

Crowley:

Crowley: I could, if I wanted to

Anathema *snorts into her wine glass*: Right. You would have your ass handed to you in a silver platter

Crowley: You don't know what I'm capable of. I'm the fucking Serpent of Eden!

Nina: And so far that hasn't helped you much now, has it?

Anathema: Yeah, that little title of yours didn't make the angel stay, did it?

Crowley *downs the whole wine glass in one go*: Why do I even invite you guys over?

Nina: Because you are a depressed ancient supernatural entity that lost his only friend and we are the second best option

Crowley: Yeah yeah, and who's fault was that?! It was your stupid idea that fucked me!

Anathema: Technically Aziraphale probably would have left regardless if you confessed or not-

Crowley: Get out

Anathema: What if I do? *laughs* Will you call me again at 1 in the afternoon because you need "some witchy advice" but spend an hour complaining about your life instead?

Crowley *grabs a throw pillow*: Book girl, I'm warning you

Nina: Oh don't be ridiculous *grabs the pillow from his hand* Drink your wine and let's finish this episode. I need to work tomorrow

Anathema: And I need to go back to Tadfield to, you know, be with my husband

Crowley *grabs the pillow again and throws it against her face with a growl*

[tiddygame]

Ghoap god type au part 4! Now on Ao3!

part 1 /// part 2 /// part 3 /// part 4 /// part 5 /// part 6 /// part 7 /// part 8 /// part 9

I have not slept in A While because meds are meds so I don't know if this makes sense! Let's Go!!!

And shout out to these people for making me happy stim by requesting to be tagged! I hope this chapter is worthy of such an honor lmao:

@imjustheretofightforlove / @pieckyghost / @life-as-a-gamergirl

Ghost doesn’t know why he continued to give offerings to the god. He should have stopped when he had the chance, but he didn’t. Flowers, jewelry, rocks he thought looked cool, even an entire wallet he stole from a soldier who got on his nerves; It all went on the offering table. 

Something had changed. He doesn’t know what, but there was a difference. And not knowing was terrifying. Ghost liked to compartmentalize, to think things through and sort them into organized boxes. Decluttering the unknown was how he stayed sane.

If there is a problem, do not panic, just figure out what you can do. And if you can do nothing, then you have no reason to panic. The rigid line of thought was the only way he could trick himself into thinking he had any control over his life, that fate hadn’t already woven her strings.

So how do you think through something beyond your comprehension?

Try as he might, he could not and would never be able to truly understand divinity. There was no rationale he could apply to Soap that didn’t make his ears ring. It was all well within arms reach but firmly out of his grasp.

He shouldn’t continue to show patronage to something so unpredictable, so volatile.

“Besides,” Soap said, making eye contact once more. He grinned. It didn’t look human. “I’m not letting you go that easy.”

And yet, every night he would take his dinner to whatever lousy altar he’d created and sit down to eat with an entity that could kill him without raising a finger, would eat and talk to him like they were friends. He’s not sure of when he lost his fucking mind, but it was certainly long gone.

Everything about the god terrified him. It was ancient, domineering over one of the most prevalent parts of humanity. Everything had to die someday, and at the end of it all, Soap would still be there, even as it died too.

So when he appeared behind Ghost at a bookstore of all places, he damn near shit himself. 

He just wanted a book to occupy his time between battles, a distraction from the boredom of downtime. It was the same town as before, barely a few weeks since their impromptu meeting in the temple. He had been perusing the shelves and grabbed a book that caught his eye, some book about the history of the town, and was reading the back of it when someone was very suddenly right next to him.

“Anything interesting?”

Ghost flinched, reaching for a sword that wasn’t there as he turned to face the person who somehow got the jump on him. And just like everything else with the god, he doesn’t know how he knew that the person was Soap in disguise.

He looked nothing like the renditions he’d seen of the god; The man before him was short and had pale skin, light brown hair, and brown eyes. He looked about as non-descript as a human could get. Yet, he still knew that the man was no man at all, but a god that came from the heavens just to make his life miserable.

“Why are you here?” Ghost was too on edge and confused to put the fearful respect in his tone that he normally used when speaking to the god.

“I just came here to look for books, the same as you,” he replied, trying to keep a straight face and play it earnestly but smiling far too much.

Ghost didn’t dignify that with a response, continuing to stare down at him, book still in hand.

Soap sighed, “Alright, alright Mr. Grumpy, maybe I wanted to talk to you again.”

Ghost asked, “Why?” But he realized that probably wouldn’t get him the answer he wanted, “What do you need to talk about?” He was hoping to cut through the small talk and jump right to the essentials.

“I said want. Not need.” Soap corrected. When Ghost looked even more exasperated, he whisper-shouted, “I’ve been stuck in limbo for who the fuck knows how long! I need stimulation! Interaction! Conversation! Anything!”

Oh, gods above, this is the worst torture the god could have devised. He’d rather take eternal pain and misery over becoming a chatty god’s only conversation partner. Fuck, he’s done a lot of bad shit, but nothing to deserve this!

The god grabbed the book out of his hand from where he was still standing petrified and dumbfounded. Soap looked at the book, hummed, and then began browsing the aisle himself.

Soap mused aloud, “I’m not surprised you’re a history nerd… Is there anything else here that’s more interesting?”

A few weeks ago, the god had been so weak he could barely conjure a physical form, now he was in a bookstore to make fun of him?

“The god of death is calling me a nerd with shit taste.” Ghost hadn’t meant to vocalize that thought, but he was still trying to mentally catch up. 

It seemed to catch the god off guard as well, with him snorting as he tried to cover his mouth to stop from laughing, “I didn’t mean ye’ have shit taste, I meant history isn’t an interesting read when you lived through it.”

And at Ghost’s core, he was nothing if not a pain, so even as he was scrambling to figure out what was happening, he pointed out, “But you weren’t alive. You said you were in limbo.”

“Okay, smart-ass. Alive, limbo, whatever. I need a story — one I haven’t heard before.”

“Do you even know how to read?”

His accent became thicker with indignation, “‘Course I do!” 

“This language?” Ghost asked, gesturing to the shelves.

Soap immediately responded, “Ye—,” he cut himself off, looking at the book he grabbed from Ghost. It was upside-down and he twisted his hand awkwardly to have it back upright, squinting at it as he answered, now positive, “Yeah!”

Ghost mumbled, “Hmm, I figured you’d only be able to read dead languages.”

That one got a full laugh out of the god, he desperately tried to quiet his chuckles before they were told off for being too loud. Ghost isn’t sure why, but he felt oddly proud.

Soap was still smiling in an effort to stop laughing as he said, “That would make sense I suppose.” It seemed that not being able to laugh only made the situation funnier, huffing air out of his nose in a quiet giggle. “Well! What book would you suggest?”

Ghost pointed to the other side of the bookstore, “I’d suggest you stop looking in the non-fiction section.”

Soap looked around, muttering a curse under his breath. Seeing where Ghost had pointed, Soap grabbed his hand and dragged him along. Ghost was too surprised by the sudden contact to fight it, which was probably for the best. He may love his personal space, but he loved not getting smote even more. 

“Okay, well, now what book would you suggest?” Soap repeated himself, this time not bothering to browse the shelves as he looked at Ghost for a recommendation. 

Sighing in resignation, “What genres do you like?” If he could get this done with quickly enough, he might still have some time to himself before he had to return to camp. 

“I don’t know. All of them I guess.”

He is not going to get this done with quickly enough to have some time to himself before he has to return to camp.

Ghost let out an even longer sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose before coming to a solution. The store had their books sorted by genre, so it would be easy enough to grab one or two from each and then get Soap to pick one. 

The god of death’s personal shopper. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

Luckily for both of them, Ghost has had an exorbitant amount of downtime and knew of a few popular ones that weren’t complete garbage. Death seemed content to trail behind him as he picked out the books, admiring the simple building.

The store had large windows facing west, golden light stretching over the shelves and reaching across the floor to tell Ghost how much time he was wasting. The smart thing would have been to just grab a random book, sing its praises, and hope he didn’t get called out on his bullshit. Of course, that would require being smart, so instead Ghost went through almost the entire fiction section, ending with a total of seven books. 

The stack of books was ridiculously tall as he set them down on a table at the back, intending to explain them to Soap and let him pick a couple. 

“This is everything, one book each from most of the genres.” Ghost backed away when Soap stepped closer, looking like an owl as he turned his head sideways to read the spines. Ghost gave up trying to understand the god. 

He pointed to the one on top, “This one is—“

“Fantastic! I’ll take them all,” Soap said, completely ignoring what Ghost was about to say. 

“What?”

“I’ll take them all!” Soap repeated, as if he hadn’t been clear enough the first time. He grabbed the stack of books, adding the one he’d snatched from Ghost to the pile as he walked to the counter.

“But… You don't have any money…” Ghost’s quiet protest went unheard as Soap walked away. He had a small existential crisis as he wondered what mistake he made that led him to this exact moment. He decided the mistake was being born as he followed after the god of death, knowing he probably wouldn’t have enough to cover the books.

Soap set down the books next to the cash register and gleefully asked, “How much for all of these?”

The shopkeeper looked a little surprised at the size of the stack but began checking them and adding up the cost. Even without seeing the number, Ghost was already bemoaning having to explain to a divine being how the economy and poverty work.

But apparently, Soap wasn’t done confusing him as he grabbed a wallet out of his pocket and began pulling out credits as the shopkeeper gave the total. 

At first, Ghost checked his own pocket thinking Soap had managed to steal his wallet and was in for a rude awakening when he found out Ghost was broke, but his wallet was still there. He wasn’t going to ask in front of the shopkeeper where he got it, but curiosity was eating at him. 

Ghost stared at the wallet. He recognized it vaguely but didn’t know from where. It was only when Soap was putting it away that he realized it was the one he’d stolen from that annoying soldier and offered to the god.

And who said your misdeeds come back to haunt you?

Once the books were all bagged, Soap gestured towards it and Ghost sighed as he grabbed the paper bag, supporting the bottom as it was lifted off the counter. Mirroring the same motion, Ghost gestured towards the door. Part of him was curious if the god would pop back out of existence when he walked into the light like he did last time.

Ghost whispered once they were far enough away, “You know I stole that wallet, right?”

Soap snorted, “That’s what made it one of my favorites.”

Ghost let go of the handles of the bag, only holding it from the bottom, and opened the door for Soap. Soap nodded in thanks like everything that had transpired over the last two or so hours was a normal interaction. 

Fortunately, the god did not vanish upon stepping outside, disproving his theory.

No, it was unfortunate. He wanted this to be done with. He didn’t want to keep talking to Soap.

His mouth didn’t seem to get the memo as he started to ask, “Why did you actu—”

“Ghost!”

The shout from someone behind him immediately sucked out any positive feelings he had. His usual glare was back as he turned to face the voice. There were two soldiers, a miserable little search party that looked disgusted at even having to go near Ghost.

“The General needs you for something.”

Of fucking course he does. He risked a glance to where Soap had been standing, unsurprised to see that he’d vanished. Ghost didn’t give them a verbal answer, just glared at them until they both began shifting where they were standing.

He felt a little relieved at being able to put the threatening tone back in his voice as he informed them, “I’ll be back before dinner.”

The one that spoke before looked to his partner and tried to forcefully say, “He needs you now.”

Ghost stepped closer, looming over them as he repeated, “I said I will be back before dinner.” He waited a moment, making sure they were properly threatened before he turned around and walked in the opposite direction of camp.

“Why were you at a bookstore?” One of them called out, almost accusatory as if it would stop him from leaving. He had forgotten about the rumor that he couldn’t read; He doesn’t know how it started, but it was a favorite amongst his fellow soldiers.

“What bookstore?” Ghost yelled back, not bothering to turn around.

The forest looked beautiful in the orange light of the setting sun. He was heading back to the temple, not because he missed Soap, but because it was the only place they wouldn’t be able to find him. If he really was needed, there would be soldiers crawling all over town searching for him.

He didn’t like going somewhere so secluded without his sword, but it was back at camp and he was not going back yet, wanting to piss off the general as much as he could. He hadn’t wanted to walk into the village with such an obvious weapon on his hip out of respect for the residents, but now it meant he only had a hunting knife to defend himself with. Nothing to sneeze at, obviously, but he would have felt a lot more comfortable making the hike through the forest with a heavier weapon.

A chill began to take hold as the sun dipped below the horizon. A cold front came through a few days prior that made sure the days were a lovely charming example of the upcoming fall weather and that the nights were frigid enough to make anyone regret not being on a tropical island.

He made the trek much quicker this time, now knowing the path. Which was a very good thing as the shadows grew stronger as he made his way through the trees, trying to make him trip on roots that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

When he got to the temple, he set the bag down and made quick work of gathering a small amount of firewood and kindling with the last of the waning sunlight, the chill turning into a freezing wind. His fingers shook slightly as he made a small campfire near the empty doorway to the right of the statue, paranoid about proper ventilation even with all of the cracks in the roof.

Using the light to see, he pulled down some of the vines, setting both them and the greener wood near the fire. Hopefully, they would dry quickly enough to be used later in the night. He quickly sorted through the books, taking them out and setting Soap’s collection to the side. 

He was trying to read the first page of his book when Soap appeared again. He didn’t look up as he greeted, “Good evening.”

“I do not like the way they treat you.” The god was blunt and Ghost couldn’t help but huff a small laugh at the amount of simmering anger the god held over what was a standard interaction for him.

“No?” Ghost asked, wondering why being told to return to camp was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

But he may have underestimated Soap’s anger as the god answered, “No. They don’t get to speak to you like that.” The sentence was punctuated by the campfire flaring slightly, the flames suddenly rising higher, illuminating more of the temple before they rescinded.

Ghost looked up at that, moving the book away to stop it from getting singed. He was not ashamed to admit that he was nervous, he just would never tell Soap that. To have him suddenly swap from someone friendly and charming to an undeniably pissed-off god was alarming.

“Uh—”

“They treat you like a fucking dog and can’t even speak to you with a shred of respect?”

The god’s form was flickering. This is what Ghost wanted, to know the tipping point for the god, but he wasn’t sure if this was the scenario in which he wanted to find out. He’d prefer for it to have been on the battlefield, the god having lost its patience with protecting him, not next to a campfire in his own temple.

“Soap—”

“Why do you fucking stay? They have no fucking right!”

The flames flared again and Ghost grabbed the handle of his knife. Just like the last time he was at the temple, he knew it would do nothing, but he could at least find comfort in the lie.

Soap noticed the movement, making eye contact. Soap was still breathing heavily and Ghost was doing the same, albeit for very different reasons. The god heaved a sigh, slouching over as he covered his face with his hands.

Once more, despite all rationale screaming otherwise, Ghost stayed. There was a long silence, the only noise being the crackling of the fire and the whistling of the wind. 

The god was sitting with his legs crossed, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands propped up his head. He was still staring at the ground when he asked, “Why? Why do you stay?”

“It’s complicated.” 

Soap looked unimpressed, “No, it isn’t.”

“No,” Ghost agreed. “But it’s a story I don’t like to tell.”

The god let out a long breath like he was trying to calm himself down as he rubbed at his eyes, “Didn’t you say you’d be back for dinner?”

“I lied. Late morning at the earliest.” Soap chuckled, much more tinged with defeat than it had been a few hours ago. The silence was back and Ghost hesitated before grabbing his book again.

“Thank you.”

Ghost wasn’t expecting that and felt a bolt of panic strike through him, not knowing what the god was thanking him for. 

Soap gestured towards the stack of books, “For humoring me today. I haven’t laughed in a long time. Thank you.”

The somber tone settled over him, the emotional whiplash from the past ten minutes alone was enough to make his head spin. Unsure of what else to say, he stuttered, “You’re welcome.” It sounded a lot more like a question than he intended.

Soap nodded and let his head fall again. 

And, just like that, he was gone, fading away with the wind. He stared at where the god sat, ruminating over his words. When he came back to the present, he saw that the books were gone as well.

He would have laughed, Death having grabbed his haul of books and scurried off in the breeze, but the honesty behind the god’s not-quite confession weighed on him. He tried to read, but was only flipping pages as his eyes ran over the words, not taking anything in.

He’s been in this situation before, waiting out time to piss off the general and he knew how it went. Sleep wasn’t an option; He always found something to occupy himself with to stave off the inevitable boredom. He was lucky to have a book this time, but try as he might, he couldn’t focus on it.

He gave up on reading and instead turned his focus to the campfire in front of him. He added another log carefully, taking care to not smother any of the other sticks. He didn’t have much fuel and he’d need to make it last until sunrise. 

Ghost woke up to light streaming in through the open doorway and birds chirping obnoxiously loud. He grumbled and tried to go back to sleep before remembering that he was never supposed to be asleep in the first place.

He tried to get up quickly, to stand to attention and scan for any threats or changes that indicated someone had come in during his nap. Instead, he sat up slowly, having to prop himself up on his arm to not lie back down.

His fire was miraculously still burning. The temple looked the same, there weren’t any assassins hiding in the corners, and his stuff hadn’t moved. It took him an embarrassing amount of time to remember that he never went to sleep with a blanket or pillow, yet now had both.

Instead of thinking about that, he stood slowly, his joints popping along the way. He yawned as he gathered his stuff, smothering the fire and folding up his bedding. Still not even half awake, he dropped the pillow and blanket at the base of the statue.

He grumbled out what was meant to be an expression of gratitude, but he’s not sure he got any of the syllables out. Taking as deep of a breath as he could to try to wake himself up, he began the walk to the river. 

It’s a miracle he didn’t get lost as he stumbled through the woods, listening for the sound of rushing water. When he finally got to it, he was sure to avoid getting too close to the slippery bank, not feeling like drowning so early in the morning.

He walked over the ramshackle bridge that crossed the river and led into camp in the early afternoon. Just like last time, most of the soldiers quieted upon seeing him. And, just like last time, the general came stomping out of his tent, though this time significantly angrier

“I need you to listen to me carefully,” he began, seething with so much anger over Ghost’s disobedience that he was twitching. “I am going to give you ten seconds to explain yourself. If you do not have a good reason for why you went AWOL, you are going to wish you had never been born, am I understood?” 

Ghost had mastered the voice of false innocence and remorse, “I’m sorry General, I wasn’t paying attention and got delayed by an hour.”

“An hour?” The general had a deceptively calm tone, one that spoke of being on the edge of doing something drastic. But the general was no god and Ghost had no qualms about giving him a shove.

“Yes sir, I know I said noon. I’m sorry for being late.” Ghost hung his head like he was ashamed. He was already mapping out a lie to explain why he arrived almost a full 24 hours after the search party said he would.

“Noon?” The general asked. Both of them were playing a very dangerous game, weaponizing an unstable but calm facade and putting on a little show for the rest of camp to sit back and watch.

“Yes sir.”

“I was told that you said you’d be back before dinner.”

Ghost lifted his head and glanced around, furrowing his brow in faux confusion, “Before dinner? No sir, I was trying to hunt for something to bring back to camp. They caught me right before I went into the forest; I might have said I was trying to find something for dinner, but I knew it would take me much longer than that.” Oh, how Ghost loved gaslighting.

The general’s lip curled, thinking he found a thread to pull, “Do you normally go hunting at night, son?” The words were full of poison, but Ghost already had an excuse.

“No sir, I looked for tracks yesterday afternoon, set up camp, and woke up early this morning to hunt. Unfortunately, I was no—”

“He’s lying!” One of the soldiers shouted, walking closer and shaking off his friend trying to pull him back. “He was walking out of a store! He wasn’t hunting!” Ah, that must be one-half of the search party.

Now emboldened, the other half approached from the stables, and joined in, “Yeah, he was leaving a bookstore with some guy.”

Uh-oh, that’s not good. He didn’t realize that they saw Soap. 

He was trying to figure out if he should outright deny it or try to claim that he, the notorious loner, had made a friend in town. A friend that just so happened to leave that day so they couldn’t ask for him to verify Ghost’s story. Hmm…

“What? No, he was alone.”

Never mind, that’s perfect; Only one of them saw Soap.

The two began arguing over whether or not Ghost had been alone and Ghost “timidly” chimed in, “Bookstore?”

The first one that had spoken paused his argument and turned back to the general, “He even had a shopping bag!”

Adding fuel to the flames of their anger, Ghost made a point of looking at his hands to show they were empty. He gently corrected like he was just trying to help the two remember, “I was walking out of a general store. Alone. I needed berries for bait.” 

The rest of the camp gave odd looks to the search party, the rumor of his inability to read not helping their legitimacy. Now he just had to hope they didn’t ask why he didn’t have any camping or hunting supplies aside from a small bag. 

The general looked more irritated than irate, “That’s enough. All three of you are being punished for insubordination. For now just get the hell out of my sight until tomorrow morning.”

Ghost tried not to smile too wide as he nodded and walked away, very happy that the general reached his limit before more glaring holes could be poked in his story. The other two looked offended at getting punished with him, one standing slack-jawed as the other even tried to argue before getting dragged away by his friend before he could dig himself a deeper grave.

Ghost was going to be punished regardless of what he did or when he returned, but dragging the other two down with him was well worth it. Plus, the rest of the camp would now think they were liars as well who tried and failed to get him punished.

All in all, it was a rather successful trip to the bookstore.

…

Had he been paying more attention, thinking more clearly, he might’ve thought to hide his tracks, to not leave an obvious trail to where’d been, to hide the evidence of his time spent at the temple of the god of death.

[lazerswordweilder]

Superman turned as Constantine walked in “Constantine, we’re getting some help from a hero called Phantom because they’re a ghost hero but something was… wrong.” Superman said, looking conflicted. Constantine paled a bit but shook his head muttering about how Phantom is probably a really common name among ghosts.

“You know how you stare into water and you can’t see the bottom? That’s the feeling you get when looking at him, like you’re standing on the edge of an abyss that could come up and swallow you at any moment, like you’re fighting a tiger that’s merely humouring you for it’s own entertainment and could beat you any second?” Zatanna described “It’s like… I don’t know, it makes you want to run far away and never look back, it also wants you to bow down in respect, it wants you to stare in awe at his power, and then suddenly he laughed or moves away and it’s like the spell is broken. He said he was a ghost and none of us asked anything, I didn’t really want to know more.”

“White hair, green eyes, pale skin, black and white clothes, have you heard of him?” Flash asked, Constantine paled a couple more shades as Flash listed off Phantoms traits

“Do I know Phantom? Of course I know him! Everyone knows him! Please tell me you know him. Oh fuck, which ever gods I haven’t pissed off yet please tell me this is a joke and I’m wrong.” Constantine said, only saying Phantoms name in whispers and his emotion changing every sentence.

Constantine dealt with… a lot, and nothing scared him much anymore, that’s not to say he didn’t get scared, just that it took a hell of a lot to do it, and seeing him begging was unnerving

“Phantom? What should we know about Phantom?” Batman asked, Constantine ignored him and pulled out heavy book opening it up to a page with a picture of Phantom. The image depicted him with his mouth open because of some type of sonic attack aimed at something off screen, he wore a black crown and a green ring both of which were on fire, various other ghost like entities bowed down to him and I couldn’t read whatever language the text was in.

“Is this him? And stop staying his name out loud you don’t want to get his attention, we just call him The King if we have to talk about him.” Constantine warned,

“That’s him.” Wonder Woman said and pointed at the image, Constantine somehow got even paler

“Constantine are you-” he swayed standing up and Flash caught him “-okay?!” Flash asked, Constantine stood up and tried to wave Flash off

“That’s not a regular ghost you’re dealing with, that’s the Ghost King. The High King of the Infinite Realms, Defeater of the Tyrant King, Wielder of the Crown of Fire and the Ring of Rage, Ancient of Space Heros and Protection. He rules the entire Infinite Realms! I don’t fuck with the Infinite Realms! My demons don’t fuck with the Infinite Realms! Not even the little guys! And he rules the whole place! You don’t get it, you don’t become king by popular demand in the Infinite Realms, you have to beat the King in a fight. The King has been dead for three years, he’s practically a new born in ghost standards, and that was a few years ago! He bet Pariah Dark as a newborn, Pariah Dark is one of the most powerful ghosts ever and got bet by The King which he was a newborn, and The King’s only getting stronger.” Constantine explained, the room got silent as we took in what Constantine said and the implications of it “Please tell me you didn’t upset him.” Constantine asked

“He was fine.” Superman said

“He seemed happy, even a bit sad when he left, he really liked the windows.” Wonder Woman offered

“Well that makes sense, like I mentioned he’s practically a baby and he’s known to like space, it’s his domain for heavens sake!” Constantine said “Okay, 1) we’ll call him up, explain you’re all idiots and aren’t up to date with realms news and didn’t immediately recognise him, don’t say you don’t know him, he’s said to be merciful but lets not test that 2) offer him a room here and access to everywhere and whatever else we can give him 3) call him your highness and don’t say anything controversial incase he has strong feelings about it. Whatever else you’d do to someone who could destroy not only us but our entire universe.” Constantine ordered, for once no one protested being called an idiot.

[glytchedmuffins]

Okay, so, I talked about some Sampo thoughts before, but I never really talked about the whole poem thing, which seems to be a must when talking about this man so here we go.

I've seen many takes regarding the Sampo of Kalevala and Sampo Koski, his true identity, what role he plays and etc.

I personally have yet to read it, so most of my knowledge is based on wikipedia and tumblr.

I did notice that the theory that Sampo's real name is Ilmarinen (no idea if I spelled that correctly), the creator of The Sampo, is somewhat popular.

But, what if Sampo IS The Sampo? Like his name is actually Sampo Koski, it's not a fake name.

Like, let's say Sampo was born on Kalevala like most people believe, and let's say he was born there years ago, like, hundreds of years ago.

I say that because Sampo always gave me ancient vibes, which is why he calls himself an old timer, and if we go with the theory that he is an Emanator, then it is definitely plausible.

Anyways, back to Kalevala, if Sampo had left the planet hundreds of years before now, then it would make sense that stories of Sampo would change as time went on, eventually becoming the poem we know, when it wasn't how it really happened.

Basically, The Sampo of Kalevala is about Sampo Koski himself but hundreds of years of oral story telling led to it changing and you can now no longer tell it was about a person.

This can also create other ties, for example, The Sampo was stolen by a powerful entity and eventually lost, which could be Aha yoinking Sampo off the planet in reality, which to them was probably very confusing.

Why would Aha do this? Well, we know for a fact that the planet has gone to war over a powerful artifact before (gestures over to Guyun) and it def fits into Aha's MO to start a war.

After all, we do know there was battle after The Sampo was stolen in the poem.

But wait, you may probably not ask, Sampo is a living being, not an atrifact! Which to that I raise Sampo's lines from the recent events that show that this man sees all relationships as transactional and expects people to see him as a tool, so.

And if this is true, this would mean Sampo had the power the grant endless riches to people, and knowing people, he was no doubt only seen as a way to get rich rather than as a person.

Would explain why he joined the Masked Fools in the first place, before he grew older and realized these people sucked too, especially if they knew about the Emanator thing, and he proceeded to fuck off to Belobog where he was probably treated as a person and not a god/tool.

So to sum up; Sampo was born on Kalevala many ember eras ago, was able to grant people riches, was used and seen as a tool, Aha thought it would be funny to remove Sampo from the planet and start a war, Sampo joins the Elation as a means of escape, regrets it, goes to Belobog to escape, again, grows attached, and now has to embrace his powers and Emanator status instead of running away to protect the place he can finally call home.

[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Part 11: ~

In Times of War:

Last chapter before the official Rescue Arc begins.

TW: War, PTSD and Death.

Part 12:

'Attention, all personnel. Message from the mainland has stated that the rescue will be here by 13:00 hours. I repeat 13:00 hours. Gather your belongings and prepare closing down.'

Roper had to admit. He found great joy in making an announcement instead of Rennick.

It was a busy yet strange morning for Beria. The crew ate their breakfast as they worked on getting the rig closed. None of them had done this before. Only gotten themselves ready in swapping shifts or leaving it stable enough for another set of crew to arrive. They'd all been trained, but it was the case of remembering.

Roy, Caz, Finlay, and eventually Innes and Muir worked on moving food from the pantry and into the containers. Leave nothing purchased from Cadal's pockets behind. The last thing you want is to be in debt to them. Brodie and Raffs focused on The Stack with the help of Engineering and Pontoons. There is no need for an explosion now. Luck was on their side, and they'd like to keep it that way.

O'Connor left the Pontoons to Fergus. He accompanied Rennick to Administration to collect all the important documents Beria will need. Despite Rennick seemingly hating everyone, O'Connor was someone he always tolerated. He was one of the few who never got a verbal beatdown and knew to stay in his lane. Plus, working in the depths of the rig meant the pair never saw each other. Just quick acknowledgement as they entered the canteen. Currently, the pair sat outside the building, eating their breakfast in mostly silence.

'I can't believe we're doing this,' Rennick muttered as he chewed through the sausage barm that dripped grease and tomato ketchup. He never knew how hungry he was until his infection. Before, Rennick just survived on coffee and stress. He often wondered how he hadn't dropped dead from it all. 'Sneaking us back to the mainland and hoping they let us go.' Of course, it was McLeary's idea.

'If you have a better idea, then I'm all ears.'

'No. But...' Rennick did not have any other ideas. 'Operation Spy?' Once again, of course it was McLeary. 'We're not spies, Dónal. Look at us.' He pointed to him. 'Tinker.' He pointed to Dobbie, who was walking by. 'Tailor.' He pointed to Innes. 'Soldier.' He pointed to himself. 'Twat.'

O'Connor tried not to laugh through the sip of his coffee. Then, it hit him.

'Did you say my first name, Davey?'

'Oh get fucked, O'Connor. Of course I know your name. I know everyone's first, middle, that you don't have, and last name.' He tossed the rest of his sandwich into his mouth. 'Now, get your specks on and help me.'

Like the old fud he was, Rennick sulked towards his office to begin the search for documents. With a last sip of coffee, O'Connor followed. Good thing, too, because he side-stepped a tendril Rennick was going to use to drag the older man along. 'Alright. Alright.'

'Well, move it.'

Apart from the knocked over books, Rennick's office was practically untouched. Might be because The Shape didn't make it this far before dying. O'Connor went first, put on his round glasses, and began to shift through.

'Surely, they wouldn't need half of this?'

'You'd be surprised,' Rennick scoffed. 'They'll want all of our documents and any damage updates.' He paused. 'Which I never reported.'

'What could you even put in a report now? Beria damaged from an ancient entity we drilled through and royally pissed off?'

Okay, Rennick had to chuckle at that. Just one chuckle, though.

O'Connor continued to shuffle. From daily records to first aid and payments. All were needed. He tucked the most recent file of contracts under his arm and slid the rest of the files towards Rennick, who lingered halfway through the door. O'Connor went to stand, but a glint from a picture frame caught his eye. It sat on a shelf under the desk, and curiosity got the best of him. The resemblance was undeniable. Of course it was Rennick. He was younger. Early 30s. Leaning against a military jeep with two other blokes. They all held their issued rifles with wide smiles and dripping with sweat as they wrapped cloth around their foreheads. Rennick wasn't wearing a shirt, where a tattoo could be seen on his upper arm. What it was was hard to tell due to the angle. O'Connor glanced to his manager, who was shuffling through the files. He slowly walked over and offered the frame. 'I don't think you should leave this behind, eh?'

Rennick looked up from the paperwork, and his eyes widened. He gently took the photo and gazed at the memory. The same feeling from yesterday came back. The nostalgic feeling and the yearning to be young again. O'Connor noticed the hurt look in Rennick's eyes as he dazed off into the past.

The day was a scorcher, expected for the desert. As the soldiers could finally take a break and check their equipment, Rennick was called over by the men who stood beside him. George and Kenneth. The trio had been thick as thieves, and George was going to make sure this was a memory to keep. Rich lad from Cornwall. Always had the best technology. The camera was a birthday gift from home. He gave it to a clearly bored Officer, who had to be walked through how it even worked. Rennick remembered rolling his eyes. He was always impatient.

'Come on, whilst we're still young!'

'Young?' Geroge called as he jogged over. 'I thought Churchill dragged you out of a retirement home, Rennick?'

'By the end of this war, I'll be frog-marched into one.' The three wrapped one arm around each other's shoulder and raised their rifles with the other.

'Say Churchill!'

'Churchill!'

Click

'Africa?'

Rennick snapped back to reality. 'Yeah. We'd just captured Fort Capuzzo. What about you? I never saw you there.'

'I was never in Africa.' O'Connor leaned against the desk. 'I was in Dunkirk.'

'Oh, you poor fuck.' The pair shared a chuckle.

'What happened to the others?'

'Kenneth went to join the R.A.F,' Rennick explained. 'George and I went home at the end of it all and stayed in touch.' A pause. 'He died from a heart attack four years ago. Lucky bastard.'

'And Kenneth?'

'Haven't the foggiest.' If he had to guess, he was either dead or the one sitting in a retirement home. But, enough about that. Rennick focused his attention on O'Connor. 'Didn't agree with Ireland kicking their feet up with The Swiss and Spaniards?'

'Yep. It wasn't right. We were at war. Lives were at stake, and I had a job to do.' With a brief story to tell, O'Connor lit a cigarette. He knew Rennick wasn't a smoker. 'I was a driver. You felt so powerful driving troops across France's fields and roads, avoiding enemy fire. Younger me saw this as an adventure.' Like Rennick, a look of nostalgia washed over him. Then, the hurt look crept in his eyes. 'Until I got too cocky and sent the us into a death trap.'

The crushing pain of the jeep landing on his leg ran through his body. It was a feeling that would never leave. Some would say having a constant limp for the rest of your life was enough punishment, but for O'Connor, it was when he saw...

'Nigel? Nigel? Answer me, please. Get this jeep off me.'

'NIGEL!'

The pair fell silent. They looked at each other for some form of comfort. There was no need for clarification. War was Hell, but there were good moments. It's how you stayed sane. The toughest challenge for both men was returning to civilian life. But, here they were after thirty years. They had to be thankful for that.

Rennick broke eye contact and huffed. 'Well, let's get out of here.' No reason to dwell on the past. Rennick went to move. And he couldn't. Whenever he tried to move his head and 'arm' out of the doorway, he just lightly shook the office. He was stuck. 'One moment. Just...J...' Nope. Completely stuck. 'Can you help me?' He looked at O'Connor, who was trying with every fibre of his being to not laugh. Which lasted about five seconds. He let out a scream-laugh, leaning on his knees and sounding like a dying pterodactyl. It was the mood booster he needed.

O'Connor's laugh must be contagious because Rennick just started to laugh along. His was a hysterical cackle in comparison. Everyone on Deck heard the pair, and Muir could see what the problem was, thanks to his height, causing him to snort.

Through their laughs, O'Connor leaned against Rennick's head and helped him shuffle the arm out, which was causing the block. If he could get himself in, then he could get himself out. Once free, Rennick pulled backwards, causing O'Connor to trip onto the handrailing, but still they laughed.

When all was said and done, they began to head for the Deck.

'So, what was your tattoo?'

'That's something I'm taking to the grave, Mr. O'Connor.'

[vertical-tacos]

Got any headcanons for Any The Mario madness cast or even headcanons for Existing horrorbrews? :0

(THIS TOOK ME A SOLID HOUR TO WRITE BUT THE ASK WAS JUST THAT MOTIVATING. I HAD TO)

I don't know which one to be specific about (and I don't have any large amount of hcs for anybody but M, MX, and V)- so here's one from each (will include a new one for M just because)

I hope you like reading! CAUSE THERE'S A LOT OF TEXT DOWN THERE.

M- He's one of the only entities there that "grew up" like a semi normal creature- so yes, there is a teenage phase he went through, but he will absolutely REMOVE YOU if you talk about it

Horror Peach- can still be found in the castle, acting like a true princess would. she's also really good at singing in various octaves (she has and can shatter glass)

Horror Yoshi- Can see it acting like Toothless (HTTYD). it's quite instinctual by nature, but some victims have actually gotten it on their side with enough toads / practice. however M can still overpower the yoshi, and got to em anyway. Yoshi ends up being more malicious than usual towards M for a few days afterwards.

John.D- Rarely goes full violent, actually! usually quite pleasant to be around (M has gotten mad at it for not attacking his victims at times but he eventually just gave up) but the trumpet it has is it's most prized possession- try to take it, and there WILL be issues.

(how tf do I headcanon a straight up NORMAL GUY???) "Chris Pratt" - He's not really Chris Pratt, just some wannabe lookalike in the wrong place at the wrong time. M assigned him Pratt's voice when he found out he snatched the wrong guy, though, so almost nobody notices.

Grand Dad- one of the most mature of the group. He's seen a lot of memes and ideas come and go, and he's definitely the guy you go to if you need help remembering an ancient piece of media. He's also probably got a photographic memory and a love for tea & crackers.

Somari- He's creature coded. in a good way. his game's coding mixed Sonic's movement with Mario's- which also ended up giving him creature behavior in some areas. better at seeing in the dark, heightened sense of smell, the whole shebang. just saying, though...do NOT let this man in your house during the summer, there will be blue hair EVERYWHERE.

Beta Luigi- loves to garden, especially flowers- he keeps a whole bunch of red ones in perfect condition to remind him of Mario. he didn't stay at the mansion's gates forever (mostly via the help of some of the gentler fellas), and eventually retreated to his (and Mario's) place. He will flat-out refuse to go anywhere near the windows or anywhere that leads outside if there's a thunderstorm. also he has a mountain of plushies he hides in during said storms (again, curtesy of the gentler aka not murderous ones)

L is Real- his body is naturally hydrophobic. while he was trapped in the fountain's water, it served as some kind of fucked up way of making sure he can never breach the surface, but once he was rescued he found out (after a lot of persuading and probably being shoved by MX or one of the other heavy-hitters) that he can never enter the water again. he can't break the surface of the water, good or bad.

IHY Luigi- whether or not the flames are prominent, he's always burning. Whether it be some cursed reminder of what was done to him, or some sentence from greater entities for betraying his brother and all those he helped, he's always burning. he doesn't feel it anymore, but his body temperature is very high. do not touch this man you will get burned. also with this comes a constant smell. he can't smell it but boy can the others.

Turmoil- has a little tail. not a long one, but a tail nonetheless. helps him with balancing when making sharp turns- and also just in general. you'll find it's harder to push this thing over than what would seem. also he eventually gained the ability to unhinge it's jaw, which confused the FUCK out of a lot of the others- because in NO WAY was that part of Yoshi or Mario's code.

Coronation Day Peach- considers his forest sacred ground, and oftentimes gets violent towards ANYBODY who enters, not just mario lookalikes. many of the others had to win him over just to come and hang out. however turmoil and horror Yoshi got automatic passes due to being more "wild animal" than "subject", and D.O Luigi got a pass for just.. being a sad little kid in the wrong place. Somari got a boosted chance but still had to give offerings. also he probably talks like nightmare moon.

D.O(Day Out) Mario- thinks he's the "coolest" Mario here. even bigger ego than M, which pisses M the hell off. he's gotten his shit rocked by almost everyone in the mod.

D.O Luigi- sopping wet cat energy to the MAX. OH MY GOD, believe me when I say he got taken under Grand Dad's wing immediately to protect him from most of the crazy Marios. he also hangs out with many of the Luigis and looks up to coronation day Peach.

Dictator Mario- he probably believes in the stock market TOO MUCH due to one success he had that skyrocketed his career. trust me when I say many bullet bills were blown up when he found out that his money had no real use here, and that he was not as powerful as he used to be in his own world, before he was acquired by M.

Devil Mario- multilingual due to all the boos possessing him- in other words, some of the boos know other languages and will take control of speech if "needed". in other words, he's a great translator if convinced the deal is worthy of his time. they've also used it to keep people OUT of a conversation or plan by speaking a language the eavesdropper can't understand.

(ig I'll include him too) Racist Mario- BANNED from all conversations regarding other consoles or games. He's also in a mutual "I hate your guts" relationship with Grand Dad and Somari due to them being bootlegs.

(YAYY MY BOY!!!!) GB- he can't remove the bunny ears. even if it seems like they're gone, they've just been really well folded against the hat. however he can control if the ears are coming out of the hat, or are on the sides of his head like regular human ears (they still look like bunny ears though).

DJ Hallyboo- gets into the most fights. mutual restraining order with Racist Mario. However, as long as he doesn't consider you a pirate, he's actually pretty laid back.

Mr. L- despite what he's become, he still harbors an innate love for Daisy. probably keeps her safe in his world, never letting her access the overworld / other areas in the mod. it took him a bit, but he eventually started using his true form around her. it also took HER a bit to actually become comfortable around him again. Also, the clones / illusions he has? he can see through any one of them if he wants to, and can "take control of them" too- moreso swapping the illusion's location with his own. his illusions do not speak, and always look a bit more blank in expression than he does (if that's even possible tbh). he has used this trick to startle, scare, get the upper hand, and pay frequent visits to daisy.

MX- A FUCKING POWERHOUSE. yes, it's very evident in the mod how strong this guy is- but I'm talking he can bite through bricks too. not just run through them. not like this strength is always good though! because if he's not in his false hero form (which is exhausting to be in than his real form as it's like compressing yourself into a small room which makes him feel cramped after a while), HE CANNOT CONTROL HIS STRENGTH! he has broken countless doorknobs and is the last person trusted to open a door.

V- considering he knows how to make people feel paranoid, afraid, and all the other scary emotions, he can probably read minds. not communicate telepathically, but at the very least he can take one read and know EXACTLY what makes your defenses break. if he can't see you directly, the only thing he can hear is your heartbeat. the faster it is, the LOUDER it is- and the quicker he'll track you down. there is one singular case this has been used for good, and that's when Lucas took a wrong pipe, ended up in hellish heights, and therefore in the virtual boy. if you call him soft for this action, though, trust me when I say you're now royally fucked.

(I know nothing about the source media so these are purely, 100% made up for the classified castle gang)

Stanley- excellent memorization skills, can read smth once and know exactly what he has to say. however, with this comes a complete inability to forget what he's gone through.

Abandoned Luigi- terrible fear of water (gee I wonder why), but sadly he is not hydrophobic. he will just NOT GO NEAR WATER whenever possible.

Costume- probably into really old movies and cartoons. get this man a copy of every scrooges episode in existence, NOW. he either never speaks, or speaks so muffled only those with REALLY good hearing (like Stanley, V, Mr. L) or with really good language understanding (cough cough devil mario) can understand him. nobody else around? you're not making out a word he might say to you.

LG- not good at stage management or acting, but the best at planning. sometimes his ideas are so good they get utilized in whatever plays omega sets up.

W4R- the worst at acting, but the best at stage management. faster than he looks. Omega likes recruiting him to rearrange the sets.

YOSH- the BEST at acting. he can sound more emotional than what you would think possible for the (guy? thing? idk).

(Ayy my fav showman!!) Omega- he think everything a fuckin play. considers his victims the audience at least, and actors at best. this view includes the others. he has a LONG list of every character in the mod and how best to integrate them into every type of play he thinks of. also he doesn't need to make eye contact with you to see you. if you're in a spotlight, he'll always see you.

Mr. Sys- he's great at business management. also good at tracking people down (dictator mario has indeed hired him for intel on his enemies). he's got a good customer service attitude, and the WORST losing attitude. he also screams like a little girl when he's startled, which is found hilarious by almost every other being in the mod.

(giving a group hc for these guys* aka the dog, lakitu thing, lizard, and whatever the fuck the last guy is) YCBU Entourage- acts like a mix between the three stooges and a group of feral creatures. mimicking at best, I'm telling you. they've memorized "You cannot beat us" and sometimes will blurt out single words from that sentence if they think it'll contribute to a conversation.

THAT'S ALL I CANNOT THINK OF ANYTHING ELSE MY BRAIN IS FRIED!!! TY FOR READING IT ALL :D

[non-euclidianavalanche]

One of my favorite things in video games is unclear lore, or just a lack thereof. In a world of Game Theory and hundreds of thousands of lore-centric games throughout history, having one that's just...

Oh! Hey look, it's them again!

Who is this? Neow of course! What do we know about them? absolutely nothing!

Okay, that's not entirely true. But it's so sparse it may as well be nothing. Described as a large whale-like creature with 6 eyes, Neow is some sort of cosmic entity from beyond this plane. She seems to have some sort of vendetta against the spire (You are Slaying the Spire after all...) And resurrects your character's dead body to do it all over again. Roguelikes my beloved, they couldn't make me hate you. There are four characters you can play as:

Ironclad: Look, he's your first d&d character. Human(?) fighter who made demonic pacts after his village was destroyed by a raging fire. (Which I'm pretty sure was also caused by demons but whatever, you do you king) From a martial arts standpoint, it's all forms of fighting. Obviously a sword fighter, but the card art shows all different types of weapons and ways they fight. They're skilled, and are now acting as a reincarnated warrior to forever fight the spire. (While reading through the Wiki I learned they are predominantly featured on a colorless card [can be in any deck] instead of a rare red card, which is pretty neat)

Silent: (my girl frfr) Your second d&d character, a poisoner rogue reminiscent of when you played Skyrim for the 8th time this year. A rogue, her description being "A deadly huntress from the Foglands. Eradicates her foes with daggers and poisons" She has similar head garb to a few enemies, and thematically fits super well. She seems less pushed out of the Foglands as they call it, and more like she was led here. As though her mind was fully clouded and she arrived. She seems to be a sort of bounty hunter, assassin typed beat. But just like... Why? Answers naught to be found.

Defect: Beep Boop, Robot that has fucking magic(?) "A combat automoton which became self aware. Ancient technology allows the manipulation of orbs."

Sorry not sorry but that's magic. (Dope magic too) It is considered self-aware, and based on some events dialogue you find it has one directive. Balance. Now, why in the hell did a robot seeking balance end up in a giant spire? No idea, not a damn thing is said about it. They're just there and awesome. (Defect is my favorite though, gameplay wise. I'm sorry, shocking you with 40+ damage by literally just pressing End Turn in a card game is so funny.)

Watcher: (my favorite by design and it's not even close.) Look at her, she's so pretty and pretentious and holier than thou. (One of the events details her walking into a room where a bloody fight is happening, waiting patiently until it's over, then just going up to the next room. She gives zero shits.) "A blind ascetic who has come to 'Evaluate' the spire. Master of the Divine Stances." She's a monk, and a cool one at that. Her play style is all about switching stances, and really brings out the longer turns and heavier impacts if you know what you're doing. So, you'd think with them releasing desperately from the other characters in the series they'd come with some lore, right?

Right?

Right?

A little bit. But not enough to give us anything we didn't already know.

So sure, yadda yadda, all these characters but what is the spire? The titled spire of which we are to slay?

A big fuck off tower in the middle of nowhere, that leads forever into the sky. And here's the best part, you never even fight the spire itself. Sure, you fight growths and things made by and from the tower. But the final boss isn't the building.

If, throughout your trials of the three floors and multiple bosses needed to get through. You sacrifice a relic from a chest, choosing to meditate instead of rest, and defeat a burning elite. You get three keys, which let you into the final level.

Chapter 4: The Ending

Instead of a large scroll map through the individual nodes, you get a map with one singular path.

A campfire to rest, a merchant to buy any last minute potions or cards, and then an elite fight before the final boss. Remember how I said earlier that you don't fight the spire? You don't, but you do fight growths and eventually its heart.

Fight the tentacle and shield combo that are in the elite fight, (who are both little bitches btw) and you'll come face to face with the Corrupted Heart

This is the final boss. You can only do a certain amount of damage to it per turn, and every card you play deals you 1 damage to you! (2 later in the fight) Fucking rude.

But let's say you do it. Let's say the blade strikes through, or the electricity ceases the heart. You win! Congrats, you get to see a little animatic. (Side note, love the art style of this game) Of the character leaving the spire... And just kinda looking around. Then you get one of my favorite end screens of any game.

So just like... Yeah, you did it! 🎉🎉🎉 Rogue like gameplay says you did all of the things, and you got to the end. But something about not knowing all of it gnaws at you when you look from the surface. This whole post is made with bare bones research (300 hours and a few fandom searches, which is where all of the images are from) and I still feel like I know less than when I started. Sequel coming out early next year, and I'm very excited! That's all.

Oh, totally unrelated! Play Monster Train. It's not this game, but it's very similar. Card games, train going down through hell to reignite it. Very fun time.

[byteing]

to the surprise of nobody i also have a bunch of oc concepts floating around in my head. few of them have names, those are always the last thing to come to me (or the first, but then the character gets designed around the name instead of the other way around, and i never keep them)

(bg3) vampire lord who made several spawn but actually fed them her blood to ensure they were true vampires with no bonds to her. in this way she has secured the absolute loyalty of a few of them and often has no idea what to do with it. the thing about becoming powerful when you never meant to is that you are viewed in particular ways by particular people, and she has a lot of trouble... navigating that. she has trouble in general with kind of letting decisions be made for her, which is both how she became a vampire and how she's now a rich Lady(TM) with no idea what to do with herself. unfailingly polite and lacking in backbone despite appearances.

(bg3/general) a child vampire, a mistake made by one of the above's spawn. possible one of a set of twins - one of whom was either never turned at all, or was turned much later and kept as a spawn (unlike this one, who was forcibly freed and is a 'true' vampire). general explorations of what it means to be a child in body and (to some degree) mind with the experiences of an adult - but without ann.e ric.e's mildly skeevy hyperfocus on sexuality lmfao. there are so many more experiences you get locked out of if the world believes you to be a child! and those experiences change over time too. can't even work in the coal mines anymore goddamn. plus the difficulty of loneliness/isolation from peers, feeling out of place around both children and adults, etc etc. sullen and snappish. they are Not Nice, and why would they be? have you ever been a child? sucked, didn't it?

(sandman/bg3/general) devastation. not of the endless, but an anthropomorphic concept of a similar nature and make - not quite a god, but perhaps something close. also known as desolation, havoc, ruin, and many other names. often found after great catastrophe (whether general or personal), it is likely that this entity is tied to Destruction of the Endless in some way given the overlap between their domains. not necessarily a deliberate creation of his, though - more like the aftermath of destruction.

(arcane/bg3/ffxiv) vastaya (at least in arcane; other universes will vary ofc), probably fennec fox based, with a lot of inspiration from that one furry guy from TOUCHSTARVED. i know literally nothing about them yet other than a vague visual design but looking at photosets of lest from arcane got to me. almost certainly lives in piltover, possibly in indentured servitude. always looking for an advantage over other people. has to really be coaxed into giving a shit about people, but has an easier time caring for the general population rather than individuals. partly due to trust issues/trauma but partly just due to the way their brain works.

(arcane/general) revamping an ancient necromancer/warlock oc to fit him into this universe instead. his name is mersal (but you will know him as vox, unless you are a very close friend) and all he fucking wants is his dead cat back (and to be left alone forever). definitely fits into sandman and bg3 too i just havent decided how yet.

[emeraldmew]

Hey, sis.

#also someone remind me to make my Cosmic Horror Toddler theory into something coherent

Whenever you have the time.

Okay. So bear in mind we're only like seven episodes in and I have no evidence and really no thought behind this beyond "would that be fucked up or what?" and "ooh I'd love to see what an eldritch abomination growing up is like."

There are also like, all of the spoilers for the original TMA below so like, if you're just listening to Protocol you might want to skip the rest of this post.

Tenuously connected point 1.

One of the things from what Jonny and Alex have said about Protocol is that it's supposed to involve exploring "what makes a person" right? And we also already know Jonny's answer to this question from his, uh, cannibalism discussion.

Short version: a "person" understands their actions as something that actually does things to the world around them beyond simply fulfilling a want like hunger/capable of choosing to do evil.

Tenuously connected point 2.

In the Archives universe, a point is made that the Fears "don't think. Not like we do." They work off instinct.

Tenuously connected point 3.

While I never looked into the ARG before Protocol's release I have since looked into the summaries of what it revealed. Among other things the ARG revealed Magnus Institute of Protocol was studying children via... psychological experiments of dubious morality. Aside from this being why Sam is snooping into the Magnus Institute (for those who haven't looked into the ARG yet, his name is among the children researched) the experiments are pretty much looking into how children at various stages of development display empathy and whether they conform to orders or choose not to and stuff like that (I'm sure I am not wording this part right someone with a better background in psychology can probably expand further).

Anyway, my point is the idea of choices and such is being studied in relation to psychological development in children.

Tenuously connected point 4.

The way the cases so far have played out in Protocol does seem to show a difference compared to Archives.

Smirke's original categories don't seem to fit quite right anymore as each of the cases seem to have stuff that doesn't cram into the original boxes. As the blurry categories were already a major point in TMA regarding creating the Eyepocalypse and even Sam calls out the categorization the OIAR use in the first episode this isn't surprising. But it does suggest that the Fears have changed from what they were before.

Quite a few people have also suggested that in the cases we've seen sometimes the incidents seem to fulfill a desire (in a monkey's paw way, of course) rather than simply finding a random victim. This might suggest the presence of intent rather than only instinct.

So what?

I'll admit it's just sort of my own "ooh wouldn't that be messed up? let's explore that further" thought process doing the talking here, but The Thing that was Fear has existed since things could feel afraid. It's ancient. But it's also a cosmic horror entity that has been shown to grow from it's initial state to what we saw in Archives (see ep 200).

It's something on a cosmic level. Maybe it wasn't done growing. The Fears don't think "like we do"...

but neither do babies.

What if by Protocol the Fears have developed more after leaving their cradle? To a point where they can at least begin to think or choose.

What if the Fears are eldritch toddlers and they're learning how to play?