#no one in the human realm knows it exists

[evilminji]

Weird/Unusual Crossover time?

Weird/unusual crossover time! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ (oh shit~! She's back on her billshit!) (That's RIGHT! Nothing is sacred and NO ONE IS SAFE!)

ANYWAYS~

Danny Phantom. Cultivation Novels (my current obsession). A match made in hell? Or an exciting new adventure‽ Cause like... the Zone DOES go EVERYWHERE, right? Infinite means Infinite means "Literally Without End" Infinite.

As in, Forever.

You COULD, in fact, pick a direction and just... keep going. Forever. For always. Without end or limits. The Zone is not just "really, REALLY big and we need a word your mind could comprehend." Not "as big as a galaxy or the known universe". It is? On a scale that even GODS can not comprehend.

The place GODS go to die. A place they are BORN from. The great primordial soup where universe end and begin anew. Where the cracks are glued backed together, and the souls of the living flow in and out. Endless scraps of fabric, realities, atop a churning sea of green. Keeping everything even.

After all... you can't CREATE a soul. They got to come from SOMEWHERE. Where do you THINK they arrive from? When populations grow? Thin air‽

But... ah~, there in lays the rub, doesn't it? Would knowing the Zone? Knowing SOME of it's mysteries and machinations (for NO ONE, not even all the Ancients COMBINED, can ever claim to understand even a fraction of them all.) mean that Danny??? Was powerful in a Cultivation reality?

He's certainly a powerful GHOST.

But?? They FIGHT ghosts all the time. Wouldn't he be WEAKER and more in danger? As they try to hell the restless spirit move on? Not knowing he is balanced between life and death? They could very well kill him.

Which, given the moral standards of the Realm? Would NOT be viewed as a bad thing.

But! On the OTHER hand?

He is a ZONE ghost. Not a simple spirit. Far beyond what they are used to dealing with. Arguably? ASCENDANT. From a higher plane of existence. A lower one. Several steps to the side. He is, for all intents and purposes, shrimp colors to the human eye. The color blue to a blind man. An orb to the two dimensional.

CAN he even interact with the world's cultivation systems? Does it recognize him as a god? A dead man? Some sort of ascendant dead god?

Something... Not Right™

Yet still utterly natural? Clearly not meant to be here. Yet... not wicked. Granted, not, perhaps, benevolent. But...

Because what IS he? Is he a boy? A man? A corpse? Immortal, perhaps? Is this creature a demon? The resentful dead? They DONT KNOW! It... probably scares a lot of them. Makes some of them think he is a test. Probably makes OTHERS wanna fight (friend? Hey! New friend!).

And like? Why would Danny even BE there? He's already immortal. The swords are pretty cool... but he has Fenton tech.

So, WHY?

I propose?

His well know Anger Issues. His fear of becoming Dan. He's heard meditation is good for shit like that, right? Mindfulness and stuff. Sam recommended it. And? They were watching Fantasy Kung-fu 17, "bamboo monks of vengeance" (now with more slow motion aerial battles). So he was like? Hmmmm... those misty valleys and mountains shots DO looks relaxing... I could go camping...

Maybe find a mysterious old kung-fu monk? Is that what they are? Tucker. Tucker! What's the name of this genre again? Xanxia. Yeah. That! I'll do the whole "live, laugh, love. Hot girl, cultivation summer" thing! That'll fix my shit! This is a GREAT idea!

Thus? Danny. Terrorizing some poor Xanxia Cultivation world with his Zone Ghostiness. Pretending to be a human... very, VERY badly. Yes, hello Fellow Locals! It is him! Average Human Man! Take me to your *checks notes* Cultivation Sect! *smiles with far too many teeth*

#nailedit he's gonna get SUCH a good job at blending in! A thing that is both real and possible to achieve!

@babbling-babull @legitimatesatanspawn @mayfay @hdgnj @spidori @the-witchhunter @leftnotright @lolottes

[scarletwitchproperty]

Death as the life she fled

masterlist

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal

Words: 3.1k

Summary: Death has a son, but she cannot stay away. She should though, because in the end it will hurt even more when she has to let him go.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, hurt, swearing, character death

a/n: here's the agathario one shot that made me cry writing it lmao enjoy

It hurts, watching them from afar. Lurking in the shadows as a life so precious grows without knowing their other parent, her. Lady Death. 

From his conception to his birth, Death hoped against all odds that her child would come into the world free of all her burdens, healthy and vigorous as any children should be. Not sickly and so frail that her love refused to let her come near, afraid that she was going to take him away. 

Eventually, she will be forced to lead her baby boy into the afterlife, say nothing as Agatha curses her for eternity. She knows her wife well, if you could even still call her that. Knows the nightmares that plague her every night, knows the reason why she keeps on killing other witches. A simple distraction for her, keeping Rio occupied so that her heavy gaze doesn’t next fall on their precious boy. 

Even when their son is nothing but a newborn that only knows hunger and his mother’s love Rio cannot stay away. She tries to, of course. But one such night where Agatha is exhausted as any new mother is, sleep deep from exhaustion and their son’s fussing through the day, Nicky’s cries echoing in the forest, Death approaches her son. His intelligent blue eyes seem to immediately recognize her, as tiny as they are, for he reaches out for her while making noises that no entity like her should fold for. 

But she does, fall for her son every night that she comes for him. Every night she can she cradles him in her arms while his other mother is none the wiser, bonding with Nicky like any normal human mother would. She calms him in the depths of night when Agatha cannot, learns the way he likes to be rocked when something sets him off, knows he likes to listen to her voice when she speaks like he remembers her doing when he was still in her Love’s womb before his birth. 

Sometimes she stays with Nicky until the sun rises, on the rare nights where her work doesn’t urgently need her. Rio keeps her little boy safely in her arms, asleep until she puts him back in Agatha’s arms when she has to leave. As he gets older he sees her fade into the early morning shadows, and Rio knows that her son is able to see her still when she goes into her realm to evade her wife’s notice. 

It is not until the boy reaches two and a half years of age, such a sweet period filled with many milestones for any children, long after Nicky learns to walk and just starts to say a few words, that Agatha starts to get suspicious about her nightly visits. She sees the way their son looks over her shoulder, tiny blue eyes always fixed on the shadows around them, little mouth forming a pout without fail when he doesn’t find what he’s looking for. 

He calls Agatha mama, their boy, and he has taken to calling her mami. Such a sweet word in the mouth of their son, but one that sheds light upon their apparent connection that shouldn’t even exist. 

There’s a plague striking the little town where Agatha chose to settle in this time, and as always people are not strong enough to fight through the sickness, so it is said that Death should come for them. Nicky is only two, unaware of what he’s done when he calls for his mami when he sees her take a poor woman’s soul in the afterlife. Rio freezes, eyes wide as she turns to her son to see him in the arms of Agatha. 

“Mami! Mami!” Nicky cries out with tears in his eyes, not comprehending why his mama won’t let go of him. He doesn’t understand why he never sees his mothers together, doesn’t know why his mama gasps in horror when it dawns on her why her little boy has taken to calling her a word that wasn’t even meant for her to begin with. “Want mami!” 

Rio tries to stop her boy but it is too late, the air shimmers around her and for the first time in as long as their son has been on earth Agatha finally lays eyes upon her. In shock she let go of Nicky who doesn’t waist time running to Rio, and as a reflex more than anything lady Death bends down to receive his tiny body in her arms. She stills has her work face on, bones and all, yet her sweet boy sees nothing but his mami as he looks into her eyes. 

“Mami me miss you! Please stay with me and mama!” Nicky continues calling out for his mami despite being reunited with her. It has been days since he last saw her, he really missed the sound of her voice, the way she would cuddle him at night when mama is asleep. He totally misses the utter fury in Agatha’s eyes as Rio cuddles him. ‘’Mama always sad, please make mama happy? I no want mama cry!’’ 

It’s Rio’s turn to cry, because she knows. She knows Agatha cries herself to sleep most night, sees it in the tear tracks visible down her pale cheeks when she comes to visit Nicky. But now, hearing it from their baby boy’s mouth…

‘’I know sweet boy, I am aware,’’ Rio admits to her son, kissing him on the forehead. Nicky presses himself as close to his mami as he can, craving her warmth. ‘’But mami cannot stay with you both, she has a job to do. I told you, do you remember mijo?’’ 

‘’Mmh, mami help people when they die, si?’’ 

‘’That’s right Nicky, I help their soul settle into the afterlife,’’ Rio continues talking, aware of Agatha approaching at her back. She wipes her tears away, slowly detangling herself from her son. ‘’You have to go back with mama now though,  mami has to work okay?’’ 

‘’Mami come back after?’’ 

This, the hopeful look on her son’s face is all it takes to break Lady Death. And so despite the open hostility in her beloved’s eyes intended for her, Rio squeezes her son tighter against her and makes him a promise that even she knows she might not be able to keep. 

‘’For you? Always mijo, I will always come back.’’ 

Nicky goes back into his mama’s arms with red eyes, hiding his little face in his mother’s chest so as not to make his mami even more sad by seeing him cry. The son of Death stays oblivious to his mothers conflicted feelings for each other, blind to the love and anger his mama feels for his mami. 

‘’How long has this been going on?’’ Agatha asks with false calm, face neutral while her eyes convey a totally different story. ‘’How long have you been seeing my son without my permission?’’ 

‘’Our son Agatha, ours. Nicky is as much mine as he is yours,’’ Rio sighs, a heavy feeling settling in her chest. She fights to keep her composure, reins in her more impulsive thoughts. ‘’You can pretend that you hate me all you want my Love, but do not deny me this one thing. I am his mother, just like you.’’ 

‘’How long?’’ 

Rio knows this is a losing battle. She sighs again, ignoring the tugging for another soul’s retrieval for this one time. 

‘’He was but three days old when I…when I started holding him in the night. I wished only to get a glimpse of our little miracle, to stay in the shadows and leave you alone, but Nicky was crying so much and you slept so profoundly I feared something was wrong so I-I appeared to him as I appeared to you when we first met,’’ Rio confesses, hands toying with a purple lily flower. ‘’He reached for me Agatha, with his tiny little hands he reached for me in the dark. Nicky stopped crying as soon as I held him, and the way he looked at me…I fell in love with our son the moment his eyes met mine. How could I not when he has his mother’s ey-‘’ 

‘’I forbid you from ever seeing him again, do you hear me?’’ 

‘’What?’’ 

Surely, Rio heard wrong. Agatha couldn’t be possibly asking her to- 

‘’You heard me right the first time, Lady Death,’’ Agatha says with fury as she turns her back on Rio. ‘’Today is the last time you’ll ever lay your eyes upon my son, Rio. Go behind my back ever again and I’ll find a way to kill you even if it’s the last thing I do.’’ 

‘’My Love, please he’s my son too-‘’ 

‘’He is mine and I won’t let you take him away from me!’’ 

‘’You know I can’t change anything Agatha!’’ Rio shouts in a desperate attempt, broken by the alarmed eyes of their baby boy peeking through his mama’s hair. She feels his distress, sees how Nicky cowers from their fight. ‘’Please my Love, I love him just as much as I do you. You cannot ask me to stay away from our son because you’re afraid I’ll take him away!’’ 

The kiss is unexpected, full of lust, love and anger.  Agatha moves against her like they’re the only people in the world, exploring Rio’s mouth with her tongue and pulling moans from her that Lady Death has no shame in letting out. Agatha bites down on her bottom lip, right hand coming up to cradle Rio’s cheek as their forehead settle against one another. 

‘’You were the only person I thought I could trust in my entire life, yet one day you’re going to take my baby away from me,’’ Agatha breathes against her lips, a lone tear running down her cheek. ‘’And the worst part of all of this is that I still love you.’’ 

‘’Agatha, please-‘’ 

‘’Goodbye, my Love.’’ 

Six months. It takes Rio six months to find them again, the days bleeding into each other as she looks for her wife and son. The killing of witches had doubled in the last six months, Agatha’s effort in distracting her dwindling down as their boy’s birthday approaches. Which is partly to blame as to why Rio manages to find them. 

Another dead coven, another job. She just barely leads the last witch into the afterlife when Rio feels tiny hands tugging at her robe. She stops, looking down into the bright blue eyes of a very special little boy. 

‘’MAMI! I found you mami!’’ 

Nicky cries as Rio hugs him, heart whole once again as her little boy is back in her arms. She looks around, expecting to find Agatha running after their son, but not even the animals in the forest make a sound. No one is here but them. 

‘’Oh mijo I missed you my little prince,’’ Rio whispers against his hair, breathing in the earthy scent of the little one in her arms. He stills smells the same, a mix of her and Agatha. ‘’But why are you on your own? Is your mama coming?’’ 

At the question her little boy bursts into tears, hiding his tiny face into her neck. 

‘’It’s their fault mami, mama was hurt because of them,’’ Nicky cries as he squeezes Rio, blind to the way his mami’s eyes darken with anger. ‘’They tried to hurt me mami, they saw the flowers I made for mama and they threw rocks at me. One lady had a knife and mama got hurt because she pushed the lady away from me.’’ 

‘’Where is she? Where is your mama?’’ 

‘’In the water, she was writing something in the dirt but then…no more.’’ 

Rio ran, she ran until she arrived at the riverbank where Agatha was bleeding out with her face down. Nicky was silent as her eyes caught on to the writings in the dirt, the symbols and letters all part of a very familiar ritual. 

‘’Oh my Love, you tried to call on me,’’ Rio cries out as she takes Agatha’s face in her hand, brushing her lips against her cheek. ‘’My smart girl, I’m right here with you. Everything’s going to be okay.’’ 

There is an imperceptible green glow to her lips as Rio brushes them against Agatha’s nose, her cheeks, her jaw, her neck and lastly her lips. There is no more bleeding by the time Rio sits back to witness Agatha’s skin turning back to its natural color, Nicky pressing into her side to see the change. 

‘’Your mama is a very smart woman mijo, never forget that,’’ Rio says, smiling when her boy cuddles deeper into her. Agatha’s eyelids flutter and her heart drops, knowing that she has to leave. ‘’Take care of your mama for me, okay Nicky?’’ 

‘’I will mami, don’t worry,’’ Nicky says with a big smile on his face. His tiny face turns sad as Rio gets up, dusting her cloak as she turns around, and that is how she completely misses Agatha opening her eyes. ‘’But mami, who will look after you?’’ 

‘’Don’t worry mijo, I’ll be fine on my own.’’ 

If only she had turned around at this very moment instead of slipping into the shadows like usual, Rio would’ve seen the yearning on Agatha’s face, the lingering regret as she let her leave without saying anything. 

The circle continues like before. Rio comes back almost every night to see Nicky, only this time Agatha is aware of her nightly visits. Sometimes she’s awake, other times not. She never says anything though, only watches in silence as Rio and Nicky bond more together each night. 

But alas their blissful time together had to come to an end, eventually. 

Nicky falls sick three days after his sixth birthday and never gets better. Everyday his tiny body is wracked by coughing fits too great for a boy his size, fever too high for someone so young. 

They try, Agatha and Rio, for months they try to find a remedy to their son’s sickness. But deep down they know nothing is to be done, that it is inevitable. 

Something to be known about Nicky is that he loves to sing, he even created a song with his mama. At this point he hasn’t used his voice for anything other than talking for months, until one day. One deceptively peaceful day, where he sings for a small crowd in a tavern as Agatha tries to con people into giving her money, old habits die hard they say. 

When Nicky finishes his little song, nausea hits him. He gets down from his stool, stumbling as he walks by tables and benches, turning around only when his mama calls for him. 

‘’I have to go now. My mother is waiting for me.’’ 

Agatha is frantic as she runs after him, knows what he meant when he said those words. Try as they might, Rio’s calling to him. That night they fall asleep in front of a dying fire, Nicky safely enveloped in his mama’s arms with a content smile on his face. 

Rio comes out of the shadows the moment they fall asleep. Her dark eyes are lined with tears, a torch in her hand as she observes her little boy opening his eyes in the dark of night. He smiles when he sees her, ever her happy boy. 

‘’Is it time mami?’’ 

Rio nods, a finger resting over her lips telling her son to stay quiet so as not to wake Agatha. Nicky almost bolt towards her immediately, but it is without counting Rio gesturing towards his mama. The little boy smiles again, turns around and bends down, kisses once, then twice his mother’s cheek. 

‘’See you later mama!’’ 

Lady Death cries as her son runs into her arms, her smart little boy ever trying to comfort her. She takes a step with him still in her arms, another tear falls. 

‘’Don’t cry mami, I’m okay,’’ Nicky says as she keeps walking. He gently pokes Rio on the nose, trying but failing to lift her spirit. ‘’It’s your turn to take care of me, right?’’ 

In front of them the veil to the afterlife opens, cold air seeping from the opening. Rio knows she’ll be able to see her son again, but Agatha never will. Unless she dies, and that she will never allow. 

Nicky jumps down from her arms, stops right as he passes a foot through the veil, and turns a sad eye onto Death. 

‘’You take care of mama okay?’’ 

The next day when Agatha awakes, she’s cold. So very cold, and so is her little boy. Her heart drops as Nicky’s face stays frozen in time when she turns him her way. She shakes him in vain, cries to the sky to bring her boy back to her, to give her more time. She only needs more time…

‘’Agatha?’’ 

Blue eyes fall upon a figure dressed in green, time stops. 

‘’Did he suffer?’’ 

‘’Of course not,’’ Rio admits, a tear leaking from her eye. ‘’He went in his sleep, didn’t feel a thing.’’ 

‘’Good.’’ 

Rio breathes, takes a step, tries to reach for Nicky but recoils as Agatha slaps her hand away.

‘’I made him kiss you goodbye,’’ Rio tries, for the last time, to connect with Agatha. It doesn’t go well, as one would imagine, and a purple glow overtakes her love’s blue irises. ‘’My Love, you know I didn’t want to do it. If I could-‘’ 

‘’Leave.’’ 

‘’What?’’ 

‘’Leave and never come back.’’ 

‘’You don’t mean that, Agatha.’’ 

‘’Yes I do. Nicky was my son and you took him,’’ Agatha screams as she stands up, purple mist wrapping around her. ‘’He was mine and you took him!’’ 

‘’HE WAS MY SON TOO! Don’t you dare take that away from me, he was my baby too!’’ Rio yells back as furious tears run down her cheeks. ‘’You’re angry well I’m angry too! I hoped everyday that he wouldn’t suffer the consequences of our actions, that Nicky wouldn’t die simply because he’s Death’s son. Don’t you think I blame myself enough for both of us? Don’t you think I would give my own life to get him back?! I would tear down the entire world to get our baby back if it meant having you back too, but I can’t. I lost him and I lost you, and there’s nothing I can fucking do about it!’’ 

Death leaves and never comes back. Not until centuries later, when a group of witches summon her onto this fake reality made by the son of the Scarlet Witch. Blue eyes meet brown as a flower is presented, love centuries old gone undetected in her eyes by everyone but her. Her Agatha. 

‘’Surprise, my Lady.’’ 

[phantom-overdose]

((If anyone ever wants to write with a scruffy, kind of (unintentionally) goofy, sweet but still totally animalistic, former prisoner, werewolf-esque, character (complete with wolf tail) who has read a bunch of self-help books and who is super committed once he falls in love, and who also just so happens to be from a post-grand-fairytales fairytale realm full of magic and chaos and all that good stuff... just, ya know, let me know <3))

[magnusmodig]

ovo whispers menacingly abt his grandstanding .

[maimedaffair]

there had been a stir of reports of something on the border of prythian causing trouble with the mortals. more than normal , humans were coming into their territory through the gap in the wall. none returned. the humans hadn't raised a fuss about most of them , given those lost were from that odd cult of them that worshipped the fae. so long as those humans came here of their own volition , their lives were forfeit according to the treaty. while no act of war , it was enough of a problem to draw the ire of the humans near the border.

so tamlin sent his general to see if he could find a source of trouble -- see if it was fae at all. the humans could not distinguish anything outside of their own species , so it would fall on the fae's shoulders regardless.

finding @vulpesse was unexpected. the mechanical golden left eye whirs in its socket as lucien's gaze flickers over the woman. everything in him stirs with warning. she is not of his kind -------- no , she feels older than his kind altogether. the smell of humans led him here. more specifically , blood. if he feels fear , it does not show on his face as he offers her a charming grin &* a sweeping , low bow. ❛ i hope you can forgive the intrusion , my lady. 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍 𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐀. i'm an emissary for the spring court of prythian.   my high lord sent me out to see what the fuss with the humans might pertain to. ❜ an auburn brow arches. ❛   you wouldn't happen to know anything about that , would you ? ❜

STARTER CALL ( accepting ! )

[torgawl]

crack theory: what if the abyss twin isn't a descender because they're an ascender?

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Guizhong (don't mind me re-dropping this with the fixed ones, shh)

[astrifurious]

wondering if there any literature or media or articles or just ANYTHING about finding love to be terrifying to a cosmic horror degree

[derpuyt]

My D&D OC, Cantho!

Little minifig concept

Dual minded (cursed by a fae)

Double the lifespan (same fae lmao)

Cantho is somewhat intelligent, more in street smarts than book smarts

And then the "sealed" version Loh'pe

Absolute idiot

They fight for control sometimes

His battleaxe is also a pan for cooking and also a fork

[steveyockey]

To be aware you might be trans but unwilling to do anything about it is to create endlessly bigger boxes within which to contain yourself. When you are a child, that box might encompass only yourself and your parents. By the time you are a gainfully employed adult, that box will contain multitudes, and the thought of disrupting it will grow ever more unthinkable. So you cease to think of yourself as a person on some level; you think not of what you want but what everybody expects from you. You do your best not to make waves, and you apologize, if only implicitly, for existing. You stop being real and start being a construct, and eventually, you decide the construct is just who you are, and you swaddle yourself up in it, and maybe you die there. There is still time until there isn’t.

This reading of TV Glow’s deliberately anticlimactic, noncathartic ending cuts against the transition narrative you typically see in movies and TV, in which a trans person self-accepts, transitions, and lives a happier life. Owen gets trapped in a space where he knows what he must do to live an authentic life but simply refuses to take those steps because, well, burying yourself alive is a terrifying thing to do. The transition narrative posits a trans existence as, effectively, a binary switch between “man” and “woman” that gets flipped one way or another, but to make our lives so binary is to miss how trans existences possess an inherent liminality.

Humans’ lives unfold in a constant state of becoming until death, but trans people are uniquely keyed in to what this means thanks to the simple fact of our identities. You can get lost in that liminality, too, forever trapped in a midnight realm of your own making, stuck between what you believe is true (I am a nice man with a good family and a good job, and I love my life) and what you know, deep in your most terrified heart of hearts, is real (I am a girl suffocating in a box).

And yet if you want to read the film as being about the dangerous allure of nostalgia, you’re not wrong. I Saw the TV Glow totally supports that interpretation, too! But in tempting you with that reading, the film creates a trap for cis viewers that will be all too familiar to trans viewers. Somewhere in the middle of Maddy’s story about The Pink Opaque being real, you will make a choice between “This kid has lost it!” and “No. Go with her, Owen,” and in asking you to make that choice, TV Glow is simulating the act of self-accepting a trans identity.

See, the grimmer read of the film’s ending truly is a nihilistic one. It leaves no hope, no potential for growth, no exit. Yet you must actively choose to read that ending as nihilistic. If you are cis and the end of I Saw the TV Glow left you with a gnawing sense of dissatisfaction, a weird but hard-to-pin-down feeling that something had broken, and a melancholy bordering on horror — congratulations, this movie gave you contact-high gender dysphoria.

In an infinite number of possible universes, there is at least one where I am still living “as a man,” embracing my fictionality, avoiding looking at how much more raw and real I feel when I “pretend” to be a woman. I think about that guy sometimes. I hope he’s okay.

Consider, then, my cis reader, that TV Glow is for both you and me, but it is maybe most of all for him. I hope he sees it. I hope he breaks down crying in the bathroom afterward. I hope he, after so many years locked inside himself, hears the promise of more life through the hiss of TV static.

Emily St. James, “I Saw the TV Glow’s Ending Is Full of Hope, If You Want It to Be,” Vulture. June 4, 2024.

[five-rivers]

Little thing inspired by various Justice League summons Danny posts I've seen about.

.

Interdimensional travel was hard.

It was a true statement, and one that, in retrospect, was obvious. Of course interdimensional travel was hard. It was reaching out of your reality and into one that had an entirely different set of rules. However, having an interdimensional portal in one's basement tended to skew one's understanding of these things. That was why it took Danny so long to realize that the Observants were actually worried about him.

"Wait," he said, looking up from the (admittedly very passive-aggressive) report the crowd of Observants had just dropped on his (already crowded) desk. "You want to change my summoning ritual because you think other dimensions might hurt my human half?"

"Some of them certainly will," said one of the Observants, testily.

"I didn't know you cared about that," said Danny, still somewhat stunned.

"We normally wouldn't," admitted the Observant, "but although the position of Ghost King is, politically, a figurehead, you are metaphysically vital to the Realms as a whole. Damage to you is to be avoided, when possible."

"Uh huh," said Danny, looking back down at the summoning ritual change paperwork. Although, through a combination of Danny's own nature and the nature of time across dimensional barriers, Danny still looked fourteen and spent a great deal of his time going to school in Amity Park, he had years of experience interpreting the Observants' paperwork under his belt. "Yeah, it's just that I don't think this is the best way to, like. Do that."

"It is the best way to protect you!" said the Observant who had, apparently, been selected as the group's spokesperson.

"Maybe," agreed Danny, who wasn't entirely sure that was true. "But I feel like some of these modifications would kind of be a problem for wherever I wound up."

"Then they ought not to summon you."

While Danny agreed with that sentiment in spirit (getting summoned was almost always inconvenient and annoying), in practice, he wasn't so sure. "I don't think there's any way to communicate that to the guys who are summoning me. Like, some of them get me with old Pariah Dark rituals. And most of them don't really care if their mistakes screw over other people, so..."

"Next to the well-being of the Realms, that is a minor concern."

Danny didn't disagree with that, but he wasn't about to waste time arguing with the Observants about it. They just didn't get it. He tapped his finger on another section that was bothering him. "Also, this seems to keep me from getting out of the summoning circle at all. If someone is summoning me to ask for help, that's going to keep me from doing much."

"It will also keep you from inadvertently exiting into a hostile environment."

"Even in my home universe?" asked Danny, pointedly. "This seems like something more geared to imprisonment than protection."

The Observants were silent.

"Oh, come on, guys, really? Again?"

The Observants scattered.

Danny sighed and picked up the paperwork. He didn't think it was all bad ideas, honestly, but he needed a second opinion that hadn't tried to stuff him in the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep Mark 2.

Maybe Clockwork would look it over for him.

.

"It isn't an entirely terrible concept," said Clockwork, "except for the obvious drawbacks."

"The whole being trapped in the summoning circle bit," said Danny.

Clockwork nodded. "To be fairer than they deserve, there is no way to modify that portion of a summoning ritual in some types of universes but not others. Not from our own side of things, in any case."

"And I mostly can't get at the other side," said Danny with a groan. He perched on the back of Clockwork's chair. "I do want to make sure that I, I don't know, fit with other universes enough that I won't completely demolish them just by existing."

Clockwork hummed. "There are some ways to do that. There are drawbacks, however."

"Bigger drawbacks than accidentally nuking a planet because my radiation is different than theirs?"

"It depends on your perspective, I suppose."

Danny sighed. "Go ahead and tell me, then."

Clockwork picked up a pen. "You are a shapeshifter. You have multiple forms, one of which cannot be harmed through any normal means and which similarly would have little negative affect on the environment unless you acted to cause negative effects. Change the current ritual so that a summoning puts you in that form, and then further change it so that you cannot leave the circle unless you are in a form that will not automatically cause harm or be harmed by the laws of that universe."

"You mean my Ghost King form."

"All your forms are your Ghost King form."

"You know what I mean."

"I do," said Clockwork, smiling.

"It freaks people out, though."

"Your current form might, as you say, freak people out," said Clockwork. "If your summoners were, say, ants."

"Is that likely?"

"Not particularly. But consider the multiverse. Not all of your summoners will be human."

Danny crossed his arms, frustrated that there wasn't an easy solution. "I guess I could always shapeshift into something nonthreatening after. Hard to see if it's something safe without running into

"You can do more than that."

"I can?"

"Yes," said Clockwork, setting the pen to paper. "Let me show you."

.

The summoning circle shimmered and shivered as Constantine and Zatanna recited the chant, their voices rising and falling. Batman and other members of the League stood by, watching, waiting.

This, this ritual, wasn't their first choice. It wasn't their second, third, or fourth choice, either. But nothing else they had tried worked, and the entire world was at stake.

They were summoning the King of All Ghosts. An eldritch monstrosity that had once tried to conquer all realities. But the alternative was worse. Much worst. At least, with the King of All Ghosts, there was a chance that they could negotiate and that it'd want the Earth more or less intact for the sake of conquering it. At least, with this kind of summoning, they could offer a sacrifice, a bargain, a deal.

And if Constantine was good at anything, it was deals.

The lines of the summoning circle flared green, then pure white, and, without any other fanfare, the King of All Ghosts was there.

It filled the circle with starry darkness, struck with nebulae and aurorae. The clouds rippled as a star died near its heart, fiery cataclysms spreading throughout the being. A crown like the accretion disk of a black hole burned around its highest extremity.

Something like a voice, echoing and many-layered, emanated from the being. "Nghftùsh phlarûm âzgûm (1)." It paused, and the League felt it examine the area more closely. "Ko wgâ âzgûm nghftùsh derza. Ko gok hubhûfh fhtù gâh mglwnuh...(2)"

Constantine swore. "Oh, bollocks, I don't know that one. Would it be too much to ask that one of these things speak English? Just a little?"

"Nghftùsh ak. Ko ngngi. (3)"

"Zatanna," said Batman, "could a spell let us understand one another?"

"Kù-nghînku bùr fùmúu umni snîgûrip. (4)" It seemed to bend closer for all that it didn't move. "Nghftùsh laglúfhâk krîk ko phlî ak phlorza. Chthe nî hîhnâ, ka. (5)"

"I think I understand a little," said Captain Marvel, raising a hand. "I think it understands us just fine."

"Hagthu. Nghftùsh ngngi ùk nî chthe kûmpù nû gâ. (6)"

"It wants to get out of the circle," said Captain Marvel.

The veils of green light that shrouded the being rippled. "Dal phlù. (7)"

"Not without an agreement in place, you're not," said Constantine.

"Gagthashîzgathg. (8)"

"God," whispered Flash, "that hurts my throat just hearing it."

Batman shot him a glare, then stepped forward. They'd prepared a list of demands. Most of them were negotiable, but it was better to start something like this with things you were willing to remove or throw away. It took several minutes for Batman to read the whole thing.

"Ku. Chthal lohúfhâk hagthu. Fhta nghftùsh kâk phlorza ko thru. (9)"

"What did it say?" asked Batman.

"I'm... I think it said it'll do it, but it needs something from us in return."

Batman nodded. They'd expected something like this. Whatever it asked for, it would, without a doubt, be exorbitant. Then, they'd go back and forth, reducing each of their demands until they'd reached a deal both sides hated, but could accept. Constantine had bet that, at minimum, the King of All Ghosts would want the entire population of Earth as slaves.

"Nghftùsh kâk hû ko mglwno nî phnglâ gho-lobi. (10)"

"Uh," said Captain Marvel. "I think he said one of our lives."

"Hik! Rlo phlarâk kruk nîk ghû. (11)"

"Not just any of us," said Marvel. "It has to be someone who's a parent."

A tension fell over the room. They'd known they'd have to sacrifice something. A single life wasn't much, but for the King of All Ghosts to specify a parent...

"But are you sure it's just one?" pressed Constantine.

The King of All Ghosts gave off a sense of... exasperation? "Úzg, hû. (12)"

"One," said Captain Marvel. "Just one."

"And just us, not our kids or anything?"

"Nghftùsh ngngi ùk e nghuu. Gù phlarâk fush ko du? (13)"

"No, it doesn't want children. They're... wrong, somehow?"

"And it's not a sex thing?" Constantine sounded... strangely hopeful.

"Hik! Fhtùl! (14)"

"No," said Captain Marvel. "And... something about fat, maybe?"

"Oh, we're definitely getting eaten, then," said Constantine, with forced cheer. "I volunteer, then. It's not like my kids are sitting up waiting for me or anything."

"Hik nuk. Ngngi ko. E hâta phlarâk lerzaolûm. (15)"

"Not you, there's... something wrong with your soul."

"Oh, he's a picky eater, too, huh?"

"Let's not antagonize him, okay?" said Flash. "He's kind of-- He's kind of looming, right now."

And so it was. Somehow. Without moving.

"Who will... satisfy you?" asked Batman.

The entity did not move, but it managed to indicate Batman anyway.

"Very well," said Batman, before anyone could even attempt to talk him out of it. After all, his life for the lives of everyone in this universe was a very good deal. "Take me."

For the first time, the King of All Ghosts moved, all that darkness, all that light, rushing towards Batman.

There was a burst of blinding light.

When everyone opened their eyes again, a boy with black hair, blue eyes, and a jawline that bore more than a passing resemblance to Batman's was stepping out of the summoning circle.

"That's much better," he said, stretching. "No offense, dude, but you kind of suck at Ghost Speak." He turned to Batman. "What I was asking for was a template so I could exist in your universe and do what you want without accidentally blowing it up because of incompatible physics, but whatever. Not sure how you guys got me eating you out of that."

"You wanted a human appearance so you could better conquer this world?" asked Batman.

"Uh, no? You've got a pretty strong clause against conquering the world in your paperwork there. You're probably thinking about Pariah Dark, but he's old news." The boy smiled widely. "Let's get started on your problem, okay?"

I've been summoned.

You haven't summoned me before. You have a nice space station here...

I can. You can't.

Inter-dimensional language differences are so annoying.

I hope you can do something. This will be difficult, otherwise.

Good. I don't want to be in this circle forever.

Close enough.

Figures (literally, 'certainly').

Okay. That sounds good. But I need something from you.

I need one of you to be my template (literally, life-pattern).

No! It's like being a parent.

Yes, one.

I don't want your children. What is wrong with you?

No! Gross!

No way. Not you. You're crazy (literally, your soul is cracked).

[k0mmari]

Endless Abyss(kinda)! SY AU

First things first, this is very much inspired by this post by @/rainbowsmagicandshit and @/allpiesforourown, HIGHLY recommend reading that fist just to get a glimpse of where I started off, but do note I have accidentally deviated from the original idea a bit, so uh, oops ig.

This was born out of a mix of different ideas (as usual), so think of this as ‘The AU where SY is a demon, and also the Endless Abyss, and also my excuse to have Binghe possibly make a harem consisting entirely of SY’s’, or, as I like to call it:

As per usual, Shen Yuan has died. It happens to the best of us, and of course, he died while reading the glittering piece of trash that is Proud Immortal Demon Way.But, as he is in the process of getting snatched away by the System, something goes wrong, and the System has to quickly redirect itself and it causes SY to get knocked out of course.

His soul scrambles to find a new host, and it manages to find someone suitable enough. When SY wakes up though, he isn’t greeted by the sight of a roof, or a forest, or anything remotely familiar; instead, the moment he regains consciousness, he’s senses are flooded with as much information as possible. It’s like a computer with too many tabs open, but in this case, you can see all the tabs at the same time and all of them are playing the most obnoxiously loud videos possible, in fact, everything feels so overwhelming even thinking becomes too much.

What SY doesn’t know is that he has transmigrated into the body of a Titan, an almost extinct godly demon race that only existed in the confines of Airplane’s first drafts, and it turns out shoving a human soul into the body of a deity doesn’t bode so well, since what the human mind is able to process doesn’t even come close to what a Titan is able to feel. So because SY can’t get a hold of his own mind, his control of his own body is also not great, and he is completely unaware as his newly acquired body goes on a rampage.

See, SY is currently in a very old version of the Demon Realm, so old in fact, Heavenly Demons still rule over the Realm. It really is quite a shame that SY wasn’t in his right mind at the time, and instead of being able to observe how ancient Heavenly Demons governed demonic society, he instead accidentally set on a path of destruction, with the casualties being anything that had the bad luck of standing in his way. In fact, the destruction got so bad a few of the Heavenly Demons rulers, who notoriously hated each other, settles on a temporary peace agreement and joined forces to stop the mad Titan.

SY, in his frenzied state, didn’t even notice as hundreds of years went by as the Heavenly Demons tried to stop him, and also barely noticed when they finally managed to chain him down and cast him away to be forever banished to the Endless Abyss. His body, once so tall it grazed the clouds, was torn apart, with each of its different parts sealed away in various locations as an attempt to diminish the Titan’s power. It worked, actually, and unbeknownst to the demons, SY slowly began to get his thoughts in order; the event that finally pushed him to coherency was when a few of those Heavenly Demon rulers got greedy, and while sealing away SY’s body parts, attempted to harness his power for themselves, and tried to create legendary weapons out of his flesh and bone.

Most of them failed, a Titan’s power to overwhelming for even a Heavenly Demon to handle, but one of them succeeded, and created a powerful sword made from the Titan’s own heart: Xin Mo. Unfortunately for the creator of Xin Mo, it didn’t take long for them to fall into madness and eventually succumb to Xin Mo’s power, casting themselves away to hold onto the sword forever in the same valley SY’s hands were sealed; but it is as they say, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure, and while Xin MO’s creator perished, they managed to take enough power away from SY for him to finally be able to think.

It had been a thousand years at this point, and SY’s first coherent thought was that he desperately needed a break, and that in all these years, he hadn’t managed to get a single glimpse into the world of PIDW, and what a waste! Specially since he was now in the most interesting area Airplane had managed to create, he was itching to explore the world. Of course, in his current state he wasn’t exactly able to move (having his limbs cut off certainly didn’t help, but apparently it had been so long since he was imprisoned that his Main Body had started to fuse with the Abyss? Really, more of a slight inconvenience than anything), but he also had become tired of his Titan body with it’s Titan feelings, and so he decided to split his consciousness and create a small army of human sized avatars who were later dubbed his ‘Watchers’, who’s sole purpose was to explore the Endless Abyss and send their findings back to the Main Body (in bite sized, easy to understand thoughts).

It is the first years of his Watchers wandering about that SY finally understood what had happened to his body, and figured out that Xin Mo was a product of his flesh. He figured that since demons tried to use his body for malicious purposes before, with one even succeeding, he decided that one Xin Mo was enough, and came up with a plan: He was going to piece his Titan body back together as a means to prevent anything of the sort happening again, but he was immediately going to seal the Titan body away again, as to not have to deal with it’s overwhelming power.

As the Watchers were sent to locate his body parts again, one of their first findings were the hands, which also meant the resting place of Xin Mo itself. How lucky, he thought! He could just take the hands away and maybe leave one of the Watchers guarding Xin Mo so when Luo Binghe eventually comes to retrieve his sword, SY at least can catch a glimpse of his favorite protagonist! He wasted no time, and while his avatars tried to unseal his hands, one of them went to move Xin Mo, just so it was out of the way, and in doing so the sword retaliated and ended up disintegrating the poor Watcher. What a rude sword, going against its own body.

Fine! If Xin Mo was going to be difficult so be it, and SY formed a new plan: before reuniting his Titan body back together, SY send his Watchers to keep an eye on as much of the Endless Abyss as possible and the moment Luo Binghe fell in, he would turn to hugging the protagonist’s thigh and help him survive the harsh environment as long as Binghe took Xin Mo. Well, it should be no problem, right? Binghe was fated to get the sword one way or another, and SY is sure his involvement will be small insignificant enough that it won’t be much more of a side quest for the future Demon Emperor!

Now, if he were a half human, half Heavenly Demon teenager who just got pushed into hell by his teacher, where would he land….

*

So, as you can see, this is mostly more like SY’s origin story lol, but I’ll probably write Binghe’s first meetings with the Watchers sometime soon (hopefully).In the meantime though, enjoy some more of the bonus sketches I did while figuring out the AU, and of course, if anyone has any questions or thoughts about this, feel free to send them to me!

[nightingale-prompts]

You are not Special- DC X DP Prompt

Interdimensional God-like beings are not known for their patience, however it looked like they had gotten lucky.

This being that had been summoned against its will to their universe was actually quite calm. They sat back on a makeshift throne made by the cultists that had brought them here. Its body was the form of a young man draped in silk. He paid little mind to the cult bowing and scraping at his feet as he absentmindedly examined his nails for anything under them. They were as pristine as his marble-like form.

"You know cults get a bad reputation in these modern times." He said not looking up at the heroes who had invaded his sanctuary intent on sealing him away. "Not without cause of course. But not every cult is evil. As oxymoronic as that sounds. But it used to mean a group of people devoted to their god of choice, no different than any other religion except they lived solely to dedicate their lives to it. No tricks or schemes, just beliefs. None of that sacrifice or blood here though. I like cleanliness and a good batch of dessert for my alters."

"We aren't here to give your offerings." Batman said simply.

The teen stretched lazily and shrugged.

"You are free to just pray, take a rest, eat, or do whatever you want."

"You don't belong here. You must return to your own realm." Superman said fimly but cordially.

The cultists panicked as they looked between their god and the heroes. Some had disdain etched on their faces others had sadness.

"Don't belong? I do what I want. Who are you people to tell ME what to do? Do you own this planet? This universe?" The god challenged.

"We are the protectors of this planet. Surely you understand that we can't let you stay here using humans like servants." Superman retorted.

Constantine had a bad feeling about what came next as he got between everyone to speak.

"Sorry, forgive him. We don't want to offend. It's just that our universe has had enough beings like you causing issues in the past. We are a bit exhausted because every major event seems to hit our planet. We are a bit defensive."

The teens's lip curled.

"Do you think you are the only planet with such woes? How conceited. What you believe that your little planet is so special that it is the only one subject to the powers of beings you can't control? As we speak there a thousands of beings influencing this world that have a bigger effect than what I'm currently doing. Are you tired of being the playthings of the universe? Bah! The universe doesn't care one bit what goes on on this little planet over the billions of planets in this universe. You are no more special than a bit of algae on a frozen world." The teen sneered.

"But that doesn't change the fact that we would like one less threat to deal with," Batman said as Constantine tried to shut him up. "Even if you do not care about humans, we care what you can do to us."

"A good point but I never said I didn't care. I'm actually fond of humans but no more fond of them than any other lifeforms. There are billions of aliens in this universe alone. But not one is special because all life is special. Not one is better. But any damage I could possibly do to you could easily be done by the many unseen gods of this realm. These beings have built this world from those that actively created it, ignore it, and those that don't even realize it exists. Could you believe that your own creator doesn't know you are there? It's actually very common."

"You're dodging the question and talking in circles. We just want you to leave." Batman sighed irritably.

"You keep telling me to leave. I have just arrived but I've also always been here. Is this how you greet me?" The teen crossed his arms.

"Are you a god of this world?" Wonder Woman stepped forward this time. "You dress like that of a Roman god."

"Do you like it? I got it from Rome a few thousand years ago."

Well, he never failed to turn something into a compliment, that's for sure.

"But that's a complicated question. If you're asking if I made your universe then, no. If your asking if it exists because of me then, yes. It exists because I do. It's my nature. So I'm not a god. I'm a law of nature." The boy leaned back and kicked his feet childishly.

"You look like a kid." Clark blurted.

"Well... you're right. But you didn't have to point it out." He pouted.

"I mean, you just look...like a person. Not a force of nature." Clark quickly corrected.

"I look like what you can perceive me as. Can't ask a two-dimensional creature to understand three dimensions. Think of me as an anthropomorphic personification of a concept." The teen stood up finally and walked around his bowing worshippers.

"And what are you?" Batman said stiffly as the boy reached him.

"I am the Void. The absence of force or untethered space and infinite possibilities. A place of raw unprocessed energy. So if I exist then a tethered space with one string of possibilities exists. Think string theory." The boy laughed.

"Wait, I know what you are. You're an Ancient, an Endless. I thought I'd get a break from your lot after Morpheus." Constantine said.

The group turned to Constantine in surprise, not surprised that he knew what the kid was but that he had done this before.

"Look, kid. Your lot don't show themselves often. Especially not in front of so many people. You'd usually lay low among mortals." Constantine said suspicious of the young Endless. "Do the others know you are playing around?"

The teen presses his lips together. He glares like someone has ruined his game.

"Should I try summoning them and ask." Constantine smirked, he knew he found his in.

"You wouldn't." He frowned.

"I would." Constantine said "Unless you want to go home on your own."

The boy tried to protest but a portal opened on its own and a hand reached out grabbing the boy by the ear.

"What are you doing in the mortal realm this time?! I told you to focus on fixing the timelines not playing god like a child!" The voice boomed.

"But Clockwork-" The teen whined as he was dragged through the portal "I was just pulling a prank. I swear!"

The boy's voice was muffled and distant as he got to the other side. Then the prtal closed and it was over.

The room went silent.

"He was right. There is nothing special about any life form over another. But that also means he is no different than a human child and held to the same standards." Constantine said lighting a cigarette before leaving the ruins. "You can handle the rest right?"

[kabuki-writes]

An Entertainment For The Gods

chapter: 2 chapter 1 | 3 | 4

pairing: emperor geta/emperor caracalla x acacius' daughter!reader

summary: Through an invitation from the Emperors themselves General Acacius and his daughter attend one of the bloody Gladiator fights at the Colosseum. But this time it is not only the brutality of the arena that encaptures Geta and Caralla.

warning(s): mention of violence | mention of alcohol consumption | swearing | sexual implications | semi-edited | english is not my first language, faults may occur | please let me know if i missed anything

Note: -

word count: 2.5k

There was no bigger temple in Rome than the Colosseum. A monument to the Roman Empire, an architectural masterpiece as well as a slaughterhouse for humans and animals. They had to die for the amusement of the masses in the pale white sand and under the eyes of the Roman citizens as well as the Emperor's. You've never visited the arena before, it just wasn't the entertainment you usually seeked as you fancied the amphitheater and stage plays of comedies or tragedies. No one really died from a well-spoken dialogue and the stages weren't drown in blood afterwords. Your father was a similar soul with this. As someone who had seen war and death countless of times, Acacius developed a distaste for the useless killing, which he argued was the mere core of the collosseum's existence.

But while one would despise this form of humanity at its core brutality, other's simply loved it. First under Commodus the fights in the arena became more frequent, while Septimius Severus after him didn't change anything in that matter. Under Geta and Caracalla however Gladiator fights reached an all time high, especially those 'special' spectacles with exotic animals or ships. They themselves had an own Gladiator school under their wings, which was due to their wealth filled with the most skillful warriors and the best equipment, that it was almost unfair.

Given the fact that both twins enjoyed the performance in the arena and the bloody outcome, it wasn't surprising that they were frequent visitors. For the Emperor the colosseum had an own arena box with the best view over the inner pit and with two throne like chairs for each one of them to sit comfortably. It wasn't unusual for them to have guests here either and this time it was a special one. The moment Geta and Caracalla stepped out, the masses greeted and cheered for their Emperors, who - at least in Rome - offered them bread and games to forget the common sorrows of life. Both of them were dressed in the finest, colorful fabrics, while their golden laurel crowns throned on their heads. They waited for General Acacius at the balustrade to come forward, join them and speak to the people. He was still their celebrated hero, their triumph card, so to speak. It was an easy way to win the hearts of the people through a figure like Acacius, who was the ideal Roman.

After your father held a small, yet powerful speech about the braveness of the Gladiators they'll see today, a slave went forward to place a cushioned chair between the thrones of the Emperors. You hesitated a second, since usually you would be seated at the side of your father. "Since we've heard that you had never witnessed a fight in the arena befoe, we thought you might like a good view", Geta suddenly explained to you, before he sank into his own chair. "Please, sit down."

Your eyes went to your father for a quick exchange and you saw in them how he displeased this way of treatment, yet he nodded and you sat down. More and more you understood that the situation had a differnt tone in it. It wasn't mere courtesy why the Emperors treated you like that and given the way you'd read their eyes, it was more than clear that you've captured their interest. Usually any woman of the realm would fight for that privilege, but you had seen how your father acted in front of them, how worried he was when you first made your way to the palace - something was off. You knew you needed to pay attention and be cautious.

"Citizens of Rome, the arena welcomes you! Emperor Geta, Emperor Caracalla, we the people bow to your greatness and the mighty of our beloved Empire! Under the eyes of the sun the colosseum presents to you a spectacle like no other!", the high-toned, yet thunderous voice of the richly decorated announcer set the beginning of the show and drew all eyes on the white sand down in the arena pit, where a group of men in armor but with a limited equipment of weapons entered through a door from the Colosseum's catacombs. "First we present to you the brave Gladiators that will be our Theseus' today! They may not need to save their Ariadne, but they'll still have to face horde of Minotaurs today in an attempt to safe their own lives!" With those words a couple of other doors opened and six wild bulls entered the arena. Their massive and strong bodies stirred up the sands with every step of their big hooves. They may've been animals, but they had terrible weapons on their head with sharp horns that grew out of their heads.

Caracalla clapped with a joyful laugh. "Oh i love mythological pieces, even though they forgot the labyrinth!"

Your fingers nestled with the fabric of your dress in nervousness as you watched the men prepare themselves for the attack of the angry bulls, which were already pawing with their hooves. More than one set off to ran towards the Gladiators and given the fast but powerful movements of those animals, it didn't take long until the first fighter got overrun by them and another one faced the horns that drilled themselves like spikes into his torso, where blood spilled like a waterfall. The other fighters tried their best to ran or face the bulls with the few weapons they'd been given. One of them even striked down a beast by pressing his sword into its neck, when it was running towards him. You watched the spectacle with a neutral, yet pale face, while the Emperors seemingly enjoyed the show. Geta quickly noticed the way you followed the happenings down in the arena and leaned towards you.

"Are you not entertained, y/n ?", he asked you in a low voice, still loud enough to overcome the cheerings of the crowd. Your eyes went to him, facing the deep blue of his own, while you tried to put on a mask of apathy. "It is hard for me to understand, why useless killing is viewed as entertainment, I'm afraid," you answered, but it just got you an amused smirk in return.

"Oh it is not useless. You see, nothing is as entertaining as humanity itself. What lies more in our human nature than violence, power and the survival of the strongest? Without that, your father wouldn't be able to win all his great victories and our father would not have been able to secure the Roman Empire after the weak reign of the senate."

"And yet Emperor Marcus Aurelius believed that true strength isn't born in violence, but in mindfulness and kindness. The ability to speak, think and therefore to thrive for something higher than mere survival, is what distinguishes us from animals," you responded in a clear, settled tone. This sudden response surprised Geta clearly as his eyes widened and his fingers tensed up. Even Caracalla's eyes had left the arena for a moment and were locked at you. Even though he followed the fight down there, one of his ears had catched every word you'd said. What a sweet, naive woman you were... it made this whole moment even more interesting.

The corners of Geta's mouth twitched and at first you weren't able to tell if he found your words disrespectful or not. In fact, he'd not expected such a bold answer from a woman, especially not against an Emperor. And even though he wouldn't agree with you, it proved him right, that you were not a simple-minded girl. Naive maybe, but not dull.

"Interesting thought, my dear. But would you recite the words to one of these brave warriors down there too? Who will ll earn their freedom, if violence keeps them alive long enough? We offer them a precious gift, and in return they entertain us."

Your eyes went to the pit again, which was mottled in deep red blood now with only one man and one bull remaining. The moment was intense as both animal and human watched each other with intensity, before the bull stormed forward and the speer of the Gladiator, who waited for the perfect moment, hit his opponent. The massive body fell to the ground and the people cheered in Ecstasy. Geta and Caracalla clapped with admiration for the celebrated Gladiator, as he sunk to his knee and bowed to them.

The next round began after the exhausted and wounded 'hero' stumbled through one of the doors, back into the darkness of the catacombs, before he was replaced by a bigger group of Gladiators, who now had to face armed chariots. Their opponents wore the armory of old Sparta while they teared down one after one with their arrows. You leaned back in silence, watched by Caracalla, whose eyes were taking in her side profile for quite a while now. Even though he loved the fights down there, the blood, the violence... you encaptured him more right now. Your stern face, which carried a deep displeasure for this, while you tried so hard to hide it, it was captivating.

Everyone, even his own twin tend to underestimate Caracalla. Even though he was born a couple of minutes earlier than Geta and was therefore technically older than him, his stature was smaller and he wasn't as tall as his brother. This was accompanied by the fact that he enjoyed the pleasantries the god Bacchus had to offer him: wine, music, arts and sex - even more than Geta did. Together with his rather impulsive way of acting, it often led to the false thought that the more capable brother of them was Geta. Oh, Caracalla hated this, it was a misinterpretation weaved like a thread through his whole life. Because he had a gift, he could read people and together with his extensive web of information sources and spies within the city of Rome and beyond, he had a power that lied in the dark. And it was a preparation he did on purpose after he'd learned about the plot that was once set against Emperor Commodus. Some would've said it was paranoia, maybe it was, but he would call it 'preparation'. Nonetheless it came with the pleasant side effect of knowing a lot about the people around him.

"I've heard that you rather choose the theater over the arena", he said with a soft, yet unreadable smile on his lips. "You're a dreamer, aren't you?"

As you heard his voice next to you, your eyes quickly turned to him. "There is nothing wrong with dreaming, my Emperor...", you answered and he nodded quickly as if he'd hoped for that answer. Caracalla even grinned, his golden tooth gleaming in the light. "No, not at all." My Emperor. The way you've said it with your eyes looking at him. It electrified him, so much so that the cheers of the crowd almost faded in the background. You'd faced the pit and the fighters again, but he was still staring at you.

"Which play?"

"Octavia," the name almost shot from you mouth.

"And you consider yourself to be?"

"Octavia. And you?" You didn't even expected him to give you an answer on that, but meanwhile Caracalla's grin grew wider.

"Nero," he said just as fast as you'd answered before.

Your eyes instantly went back to the Emperor, whose eyes were now focused on the deadly fight between a Gladiator and a chariot rider. He couldn't hold back a chuckle, while he watched how the man pushed his sword through the neck of his opponent, ripping off his head.

Nero.

"Why?", you suddenly asked, this time it were your eyes, that watched him.

"I cannot blame him for setting himself free." His answer was almost like a whisper, yet you heard every word. It was a very unconventional way of interpreting the mad Emperor, one she herself would even despise, if he wouldn't seem to be so certain of it. It meant something more.

The arena fight slowly came to an end, when only to oppontents were fighting for the right to claim the victory. Nearly all of the Gladiators and chariot riders were dead, their bodys laying in the pale sand and drowining it with their blood, a weird composition of death that accompanied your questions about Caracalla's answer.

After a final hit, one of the men went down on his knees. He was wounded, severely, and he now felt the tip of a sword against his neck. He surrendered and the gods had to decide what will happen with him. One of the Gods was Geta, who stood up from his chair and approached the balustrade, while the crowd called for a decision. The Gods need to decide, yet Geta suddenly turned his head to you. "What do we say,...? y/n, should he live or die?"

Your face grew even paler than it already was, your fingers were almost digging themselves into the armrests of your chair. You felt a thousand eyes on you, even though it was only Geta and Caracalla watching you, as well as the eyes of your father from behind. The Gladiator waited, while his opponent's arm was cut off and his head was bowed down as if he awaited death. And the crowd screamed and screamend. Death, Death, Death, Death, Death.

It rang in your ears, you didn't want to make this decision. But the moment you faced the Emperor, just as you opened your mouth, Geta simply bowed his thumb down - Death.

And the sword went down. Death.

The head dropped in the sand followed by the body, the cheers errupted in the arena, screaming the name of the victorious Gladiator. But you just stared into the nothingness that was in front of you, while you bit your tongue to the point of pain. "Don't pain yourself about this, my dear. There was only one answer anyways," Geta said while he suddenly reached out for your hand and kissed your knuckles, before he took his glass of wine. You didn't move, you couldn't.

Caracalla stared at this scenery and his fingers were shaking as his eyes darkened. The intense urge came up his mind: To simply take his brother and throw him from this box into the pit, his neck breaking from the impact. Those thoughts sometimes came and went, but they got more intense every time he saw Geta interacting with you. And this interaction hit a new high point in him that was only interruped by your form the moment you stood up.

"My Emperors, it was a pleasure to join you, but i need to leave now...", you said in a tone that tried so hard to be polite and not carry any emotion, before you turned your back and quickly stepped out of the imperial arena box, followed by your father General Acacius, who bowed and excused himself in an equally neutral tone.

Both Geta and Caracalla watched them leaving, before the taller one of the twins took a deep sip of his wine. "She'll learn to love it sooner or later."

______________________________

Tags:

@barcelonaloverf1life @naysha140 @shinnerslighttt @mmkkzz @ange-olras @earfq0ake @honey-eyed-munson @koshkahhh

Please leave a comment, if you want to be tagged in the next chapter.

If you liked my fic, please feel free to like, reblog and leave a comment. I am always happy to hear your thoughts <3

[bet-on-me-13]

Lex is Vlad reincarnated

So! Lex Luther, the greatest person to ever exist, had recently made a discovery.

A few weeks ago, a Cult of moronic simpletons had managed to kidnap him. Him! All for some stupid Demonic ritual where they sacrifice the wealthiest man they could find in return for something meaningless like "No More Poverty" or "No More Starvation".

He had survived, of course, and was unfortunately save by Supermoron.

But before the Man of Steel had busted in, he overheard something from the Cultists. Apparently they had chosen him for more than just his wealth, there was something more about his Soul that they were after. It felt "Divine", as if he had the soul of a God stuffed in a Mortal's body.

And obviously it must be correct. He was already the most intelligent man in the world, One of the wealthiest, and held more political power than any single man on the planet, so of course "God in disguise" was the next logical addition to that List.

Over the next few weeks he studied and prepared.

He needed to make sure that his efforts would be rewarded, that those Cultists had been correct about him despite their idiocy.

After buying up as many Magical Artifacts as he could related to Identity and Soul, he tested himself on Each and Every One. And Lo and Behold, he is truly a God.

Well, the Reincarnation of One. Apparently this was common in immortal beings such as himself, reincarnating themselves into mortal bodies as a sort of Vacation from their Duties. All he needed to do now was find a way to regain his Memories and Power without dying, and he would truly become a God On Earth.

A few more weeks of Preparation, and he was ready.

Apparently the Manchild of Steel had caught onto his plan in that time. His Ego probably couldn't bear another God living in the same City as himself, so he tried to stop Lex's plans of Ascension. Thankfully, in his research he had discovered his Rival's vulnerability to Magical Attacks, and set up countermeasures for him and his Breakfast Club should they attempt to interfere.

He stepped into the Ritual Circle, and began his Ascension to Godhood.

Try as they might, the League could not foil his plans this time. The Ritual Circle lit up with a sickly green light, and expanded to cover his entire body. The Ritual began to finally complete itself.

He had Won.

...

Oh.

...

Vlad stood at the center of the circle for a few moments. He took in all his Memories of his most recent Life, and Facepalmed so hard he was sure The Badger heard it back in the Realms.

Ten Tousand Years of Therapy specifically to curb his egotistical tendencies, and That is how he decides to spend his most recent Life? Acting as a Billionare Supervillain attacking a well meaning Hero for nothing less than Ego?! He even Cloned them!? Had he learned NOTHING!?!?

"Careful Team, we don't know how powerful he is now." He heard his current Nemesis say.

Oh right...they were still there.

He didn't really feel like explaining everything to them, and he technically still had about 40 years left on his Vacation...

He simply turned his back to them, flew back to his Mansion, turned back into his Human Form, and set about his Day. Maybe he could right a few of the wrongs he had done on this life?

It would certainly throw his current Nemesis for a loop. And while he may not Hate him anymore, he definitely still liked to Mess with him.

Maybe this would be more entertaining than he thought?

[silverspectre51]

Summoning the Boy King

Darkseid was rampaging through Metropolis, Superman was injured, and the Justice League was desperate. As the League hid between fallen skyscrapers, John Constantine prepared a last-ditch effort to save the Earth.

The Hellblazer drew an intricate sigil on the ground; its circular design stretching over six feet in diameter. Most of the symbols within were space-related, while the others were themed to royalty. Batman, one of the few heroes in-the-know, grunted.

"Are you sure this king ghost can help?"

Constantine sighed and pinched his nose.

"He's the High King of the Infinite Realms, Bats, an' he's bloody powerful. He'll stop Darkseid, alright, but what he does afterward is anyone's guess. Believe me, I wouldn't be doin' this if we had a choice."

Batman sighed and glanced at the smoke-filled horizon.

"Alright, get on with it, then. We're running out of time."

Constantine nodded and placed a single offering in the center of the sigil: a squishmallow of Disney's iconic blue alien, Stitch.

"I beg your finest pardon," Batman sputtered, "What on Earth is that?"

Constantine sighed again as he took his position at the edge of the sigil.

"Mate, the book was very specific. Unlike his predecessor, the new king requires a single offering of space or alien theme that is suitable for children. It's bloody strange, but beggars can't be choosers."

Batman just shook his head and looked on. Constantine raised his hands and started the summoning chant. An eerie, green glow spread across the sigil, and light fog gathered above it. Little white orbs floated up from the ground and spiraled together, forming the slowly spinning visage of a spiral galaxy.

"Incredible..." Zatanna gasped, "This summoning is on a level all its own. This king of yours is on the level of Gods."

Finally, something began to form over the small galaxy. Batman's expression quickly softened, much to the surprise of his teammates. It was mere seconds before they understood, as a black blob full of white stars formed into the shape of a boy. The blob had spiky 'bangs' if you could call them that and eerie, glowing green eyes.

The squishmallow floated into the boy's arms and he squeezed it excitedly. At the same time, he took on a far more human form, with pale skin and snowy white hair. His eyes had whites now but still glowed green. He was dressed in black and white, royal attire with green accents, a black crown floating in a green aurora, and a black ring with a green stone. A black cape flowed down his back, its underside looking as if it were cut from a clear night sky.

"Awesome offering, dude! What can I do for ya?"

The voice was a reedy tenor in the throes of puberty, and its owner was more than a little geeky. The boy's smile was infectious, or it would have been were it not for the specific circumstance.

"How old are you?" Batman asked, his tone soft, "We weren't expecting a child."

The boy waved him off like it was nothing.

"No one ever does. And, um... technically I'm fifteen. I know, I don't look it."

Constantine cut in, clearly out of patience.

"Look, this monster Darkseid is destroying our world. We need you to stop him."

The boy turned in the air and took in the destruction around him. Somehow, he seemed to understand the situation immediately.

"Okay, but I gotta get permission first. This'll take a lot of power." He paused, taking a breath, and then yelled in a strange language. "Mom!"

Constantine paled and the other heroes shrank back as a green portal tore into existence. A young woman, barely an adult herself, floated out. She had waist-length blue hair and the same glowing, green eyes. She wore a royal outfit in white and maroon, complete with a glittering, silver tiara studded with rubies.

"What's the matter, Danny? Are you okay?"

Danny nodded.

"Mhmm! These guys need me to take out this Darkseid guy, though. Can I use my full power?"

Constantine snuck a drink from his flask. He did not sign up to deal with the fucking Queen Mother of the Infinite Realms, nor had he known she existed. God, he needed a smoke...

The Queen Mother smiled softly and pressed a kiss to her son's forehead. She spoke whilst taking his new plush.

"Yes, Danny, you may. Let me hold onto this for you so it doesn't get dirty."

Danny nodded and turned away.

"Okay, thanks mom!"

The Queen Mother vanished through and with the portal she had created. Moments later, Danny shot off into the city, with the remaining able-bodied heroes hot on his trail. The young king reached Darkseid rather quickly, engaging him while the Leaguers looked on from cover. Darkseid was foolishly amused.

"A child dares oppose me? Flee, whelp."

Batman tensed as Darkseid unleashed his Omega Effect. Two red beams shot from his eyes, and yet the young king floated firm. Two eerie, green beams shot from his own eyes and, to the shock of everyone, overpowered his foe's. Darkseid shattered into many tiny pieces which then vanished into thin air.

"Man, he really wasn't smart!" Danny grinned, "Who fires a death beam at the king of the dead?"

He received no response, as the heroes were too stunned to speak. Smiling, he saluted the group before tearing open another portal.

"Oh well; villain gone, carry on. Later guys!"

Batman glared at Constantine, but the Brit had already absconded. Heaving a sigh, he resigned himself to this new reality. Darkseid was gone, but there was an incredible new power to worry about.

(Note: My only source of information is DP canon, DP fanon, and the Justice League cartoons from the early '00s. I apologize for any inaccuracies with Batman's or Constantine's behavior.)