#Outcast of the Realm AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

doppel-doodles · 25 days

Text

Since everyone is making their own little version of the characters I thought I would join the fun for my Fallen crown Au! These were supposed to be quick little sketches just to get some ideas down but they still took me the whole day:'D will probably change as I draw them but I wanted at least something down on for the time being and I do like how most turned out!

Single versions plus some info and ramblings about each under cut for those interested:

My lamb was mainly based on both, yes the actual player character but also the vibes of my own plathrough which were very "oh god who let this child be in charge?-" while I'll still mostly just call them Lamb I figured they should still have a proper name so I went with my friends @/tamaruaart suggestion as it suits them rather nicely! And most note worthy detail is honestly just the fact that they carry something from each bishops realm on their person now, I like to think they treat those items like little trophies:>

Narinder is probably my weakest I feel like, he definitely needs something to give him some extra "ompf!". I basically made his undertaker fit a sorta reverse or at least loosely inspired by his white robes in game. I imagine he is very boney or a straight up skeleton underneath so he covers it all up beneath heavy fabrics, but because I lack subtly I still covered him in bones regardless-

And yea I kept the veil cause 1. It's a look and 2. It coviently covers up his now sewn shut third eye.

There wasn't much reason behind making him an undertaker, I simply thought it suited him, when your the former god of death you aren't exactly squeamish around corpses. Lastly the dark blues are there to contrast the other followers warm tones, as they kinda seen him as an outcast which is just fine for narinder he isnt exactly thrilled to be here.

I'll put Leshy and Heket together as they were sorta designed as a set.Since they are both youngest among the bishops I sorta latched onto the headcanon that they get along pretty well and just stick together after getting into the cult so they just share a lot of their duties. So I gave them some matching elements like the puffy shorts but also stuff that contrasts like Leshy having looser clothing and Hekets being more tight. Or Heket getting working gloves with a little belt to hold tools plus a hat for the sun, meanwhile Leshy will happily dig through the dirt bare clawed in the sun for hours-

I debated on giving Heket an apron but honestly I think she would only wear one while cooking or tending the farm plots there is no reason for her to wear it casually, the gloves though stay for I reason I utterly love because its PETTY-

Literally the only reason she keeps them on almost constantly is because when the lamb asks she can be like "ew, I'm not touching you with my bare hands." Yes, my humour is broken moving on-

I also gave Leshy a cane just so he actually has something to feel around with when he is areas he isn't too familiar with so he isn't running into crap- on that note, Heket can speak a bit but not exactly loud or for a very long time without seriously hurting her throat, once I properly learn it I definitely wanna draw her using sign language.

Lastly bodies, Leshy was based off a previous drawing I made of him in bishop form, I simply made it less monsterous but he is in charge of chaos so he had to remain a creature- Heket is more straight forward, she is a frog and she is large and in charge.

There was one reason why I made Shamura a tailor and that was the mental image of them sewing the bishops clothes when they were younger and dressing them up all cute.

I went for more pink colors mainly because I thought it better suited the purple and would make their red eyes pop! Honestly I really love their colors they remind me of a Berry! I've drawn shamura before but honestly the only things that stuck were the colors,face and then also the hand markings I did tweak their eyes a bit I wanted something more stern feeling.

For clothing I kept everything nice and loose, while they are the tailor I also love the idea that in their spare time they either teach the youths in the cult or are like the champion of the fighting pit because war is also their domain and they can be- so I wanted them dressed pretty comfy to deal with whatever may come! But still keep everything pretty mature and mildly fancy maybe in the future I'll do some fancy gold and silver embroidery to the pants because of that.

As for body type I wanted them to be pretty thin but unlike Narinder who is twink material under his cloak they have a bit more bulk on top to show that they can choose violence if they so wish-

I adore me some pathetic but still serving men, honestly except for the cross on his belt I completely ignored the fact I made him a medic- If he needs to treat something gross he can throw something over to protect his clothes but just like Heket there is no reason for him to wear that while not working.

Otherwise my main goal was simply to make Kalamar look pretty and fancy. I debated on either short or long bottoms until I realized I'd have to figure out his tentacle situation, then realized I don't hate myself THAT MUCH so bro got put into a floor length gown, work smarter not harder kids.

If I have an excuse to give a character a shawl I will take it so fast.

His body type I mainly wanted to flesh out the roster so I tried making him very squishy and huggable looking, I debated on thinner so he looked more dangly and stretchy but that made him kinda to similar to Narinders build for my liking.

69 notes · View notes

sp0o0kylights · 1 year

Text

Like the Wolf Steve/Eddie Werewolf AU

I have so much of this stupid thing written and it’s stuck on ch. 2 so imma just throw all the pieces up here now.

This is a werewolf AU, not an A/B/O fic. My version of Alphas and Omegas runs like a mixmash of Patricia Brigg’s, Ilonia Andrew’s, and Carrie Vaughn’s. There is no second gender, werewolves establish a hierarchy within a pack by who is most dominant/submissive, with two Alpha’s to a pack and Omegas being an extremely rare gift. Direct eye contact is considered a challenge and society has evolved to accept multiple types of Packs, including ones that include others beyond werewolves. All is explained in fic.

Warnings: Period typical homophobia, Eddie having trauma responses/being bullied/being hunted, mentions of Chrissy’s bones going snappy snappy, and a general mention of the delightfully dumb social/moral/ethical issues that paranormal creatures raise.

Eddie Munson was not anyone's idea of a proper pack Alpha.

Nor was he the kind of guy people wanted in a Pack, (capitol P intended, because “Titles are important, Edward.” and fuck did he hate when adults called him that. He went by Eddie for a reason.) or anywhere near them, period.

Experience taught him that even in a traditional Shifter town like Hawkins, filled to the brim with werewolves and not much else, people would pick literally anyone over him when it came time to pair up.

Witches, the Fae, hell, even humans were better than him in the eyes of his peers. They wouldn’t pick him to be their PE tennis partner if he was the last guy left, let alone allow such deep and familiar actions like “treating him nicely” or “waving hello.”

Letting him in their Pack? Any Pack, from a “true” one with the whole bond thing and fancy magic, down to the stupid social ones that did nothing more than let you know who your friends or coworkers were?

Perish the thought!

“My mom says you’re a total freak.” One of the old-blooded, rich brats had said in third grade, and the nickname had stuck like glue ever since.

It followed him throughout the years like it was branded on his forehead, accompanied by a steadily growing list of insults.

Weird. Faggot. Failure. Lone Wolf.

Other.

Different.

He'd tried long ago to stop letting it hurt him. The way they made him aware that he fell so outside the realm of what others considered normal that they actively shunned him.

It took until his sophomore year to get good at pretending it wasn’t painful, and at least by his third attempt at graduating, he had it down to where others believed it.

Had even carved out a place for himself, starting with the Hellfire club.

Gone about, rounding up all the other undesirables, the outcasted freaks who just didn’t fit into the stupid little social circles or dumb hierarchies of small towns the world over.

Took in Grant the human, and Jeff the half vampire and Gareth, who was sick all the time even though he was a werewolf.

Then the small group of incoming Freshman who’d been too loud, too proud, and far too nerdy to walk the halls without some kind of protection.

It wasn’t much, but for someone like Eddie?

It had been everything.

Too bad he was in Hawkins, Indiana, where people like him didn’t get to enjoy things.

Not without bad things happening.

Really bad things.

Chrissy Cunningham pulling an exorcist level of demonic possession, dying on his ceiling, and crashing down like a broken porcelain doll to the floor of his trailer level of bad things.

Suddenly Eddie wasn’t just the guy who couldn’t follow the same societal norms as every other bland teenage werewolf.

He was dangerous.

Satanic.

His freak status elevated from “guy with long hair and weird clothes who wouldn’t stop acting like he was an Alpha” to “wolf willing to exchange his very soul in order to bring about the end of the world”-or something.

Eddie hadn’t really listened much to Jason Carver’s rabid ranting, but he got the gist well enough.

It didn’t even matter that for all the magic in the world, demons and satan were more of a human concept than anything that had proven, hard hitting magic sitting behind it. Satanic panic was just in, and Chrissy-

He couldn't think about Chrissy.

Not that the truth mattered anyway.

No, the only thing that did was that one of their golden children had died in their town. A town they built, full of old werewolf families and a handful of powerful allies, that catered to them.

They needed reparation for the insult that had been brought upon their power.

Eddie was just the convenient lamb they had chosen to slaughter.

So here he was, outcasted by the whole town. Watching as the people who hated him collectively lost their minds, regressing back to the days of one singular Pack hierarchy controlling everything. Two Alpha’s to rule them all, with Jason fucking Carver was taking on the role as one of them.

Screw all the centuries of the world that had built past that. The way society was no longer “letting the inner beast win” but was instead getting along, moving forward.

Eddie hadn’t needed whatever had actually happened with Chrissy to know how much of a lie it was, but then he hadn’t planed on pulling back the facade either.

To bad for you, you idiot.

Not that there was anything he could do. Not with his van, stupid idiotic, easy to spot van out of commission, blown up transmission leaving him stranded not even two miles from his house. He’d exhausted himself just to get to the boathouse, knowing damn well that it wouldn’t make one ounce of difference if he’d bolted or called the cops.

They were gonna lay Chrissy’s death on his head, and now his chance to escape their wrath had all but dropped to zero.

Best he could do was hide. Wait it out.

Hope whatever the fuck had gotten Chrissy wasn’t going to come after him too.

The reminder didn’t help, that he had no idea what the hell had even happened. His mind ran in circles with his terror, trying to make sense of it, but all he could think about was how he could leave this damn boathouse.

How he could get out.

Out of Hawkins, out of Indiana, just fucking out.

It was that terror, the surge of adrenaline and the pure knowledge that if anyone caught him, his chances of survival dropped to damn near zero that he blamed for not recognizing Henderson’s voice.

Hadn’t even picked up on the younger wolf’s scent, he’d been so freaked out.

Wired with the intensity of a cornered animal, Eddie’s wolf staring out of his eyes and firmly in control the second he realized he wasn’t alone and whoever was here was calling his name, and all rational thoughts went right out the door.

Add in Steve fucking Harrington, former King of Hawkins High and total asshole violently poking around, and well.

There wasn’t a thought to be had at all.

Not in Eddie’s head, anyway.

He’d attacked when hiding no longer remained an option, proud of himself for pinning the larger wolf to the wall, snarling like the devil they thought he was.

And Harrington-Harrington let him.

Put his hands up as he crashed back against the wall. Kept his eyes off of Eddie’s, kept his throat exposed until Dustin could talk Eddie down.

Explain some things.

Explain all the fucking things, which didn’t help his situation, at all, but did at least help his overall mental state.

“We’ll work this out.” Henderson had said, voice confident, and Eddie, exhausted, starving, haunted by Chrissy’s bones snapping every time he closed his eyes-believed him.

Even if it was the stupidest thing to do.

Because for all his bravado, all his jumping on tables and loud speeches, the Throne he DM’d from and the Hellfire Club he ran-Eddie Munson had a secret.

He desperately, desperately, needed someone on his side.

Anybody.

Especially now, when he could feel himself seconds away from falling apart, life ripped out from under him a second time.

Pity this time round he didn’t have yet another Uncle to run to.

(It took Eddie a long time, in that same boathouse, to realize that Harrington had never retaliated against him for Eddie’s attack. For pinning him to the wall in front of his Packmate’s and making him look weak with a broken glass bottle, of all things.

Had in fact, backed down.

Which was a hell of a thing, when Eddie had discovered that the damn freshman hadn’t been fibbing for fun.

They really did have a little established Pack, bonds and all, and Steve Harrington really was the Alpha in control of it.

A born werewolf from one of Hawkins oldest families, with all their rules, fancy parties and refusal to be anything other than the best and he’d let Eddie, trailer park trash and son of two bitten, made, werewolves, pin him down like a puppy.

If Eddie hadn’t been wrestling with the existence of a hell dimension, hand made superpowers, and the reality of a world where humans were experimenting on species of various kinds, the long held treaty laws be damned while they raced the Russians to do fuck knew what, he might have caught on that Steve was just as different as he was, a whole lot sooner.

As it was, he just remained exhausted, hungry, and very, very grateful for the stupid freshmen.)

xXx

Shit hadn’t really gone sideways in the boathouse until the third time Henderson's little crew had dropped off food.

Dustin took in the look on Eddie’s face when Steve had unloaded the honeycomb cereal box, like the man had just seen water in a desert, and outright cackled.

Eddie reached out automatically, hooking his arm around the freshman’s neck and pulling him taught to his side. Dustin shrieked as he was put into a nuggie, Eddie spinning them as the younger wolf pushed ineffectively at his arms.

“Say uncle!” Eddie taunted with a grin.

“Ow, ow, Eddie!” Dustin whined, before finally going limp and shouting; “Fine! Uncle!”

Eddie dropped him with one last hair ruffle, grinning widely at him.

Dustin grinned back, even as he pretended to fuss at his hair and clothes. “God, it’s not my fault you just realize Steve adopted you.” He said, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Why you gotta take it out on me?”

Eddie went to automatically deny that he was taking anything out on Dustin. He was just the youngest wolf in the Hellfire Club which meant by all the rules in the universe, he was the automatic target for all teasing.

The the kids words sunk in.

Sunk in the same way fucking teeth went into a steak, all sharp and deep and pointed.

Eddie froze so fast he almost nailed his face on one of the overhanging oars.

“What?” He said, positive he misheard.

“Those are your favorites right?” Dustin said, pointing at the offending cereal box on the ground. “He’s always been like, weirdly good at knowing what his packmates eat. I’d say it’s an Alpha thing but it’s totally not.”

“What.” Eddie said again, his voice coming out as more of a surprised croak.

“Max insists he pays super close attention but come on, it’s Steve. I once watched him trip trying to do the dance from the Breakfast Club. It’s absolutely just like, his weird little superpower.” Dustin hummed for a moment, face scrunched up in thought. “Like, snack-sense. Stevie Snack Sense!”

Eddie stared, the words “Steve adopted you” and “weirdly good at knowing what his packmates eat” ping-ponging around his head.

Henderson’s grin grew impossibly wider. “Get it? Like Scooby snacks?”

Then he laughed his weird little cackle again, ignoring the way Eddie had crashed like one of the shitty computers their school was so proud of owning.

‘Danger alert, the Freak is overheating. Danger alert, the Freak is-’

“Henderson are you coming or what!?” Steve yelled, causing Eddie to jump and Dustin to spin around, shouting something rude back.

“Keep your walkie on, okay?” Dustin said, turning back with a worried look that would have been touching if Eddie had been paying any attention at all, before scampering off to have an argument with his Pack Alpha.

The same one who apparently, allowed such things from whiny, teenage puppies, and also, was trying to adopt Eddie.

Into his Pack.

Eddie just stared after them, feeling vaguely like the world no longer made sense.

Probably because it didn’t.

#Hungry verse #werewolf AU #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #werewolf steve harrington #werewolf eddie munson #pack #packmates #0o0 fanfics

531 notes · View notes

cookierunauprompts · 2 months

Text

Shadow MIlk Cookie as Beetlejuice AU

Idea spawned from a lovely artwork on ex-Twitter by @Ashuribbon

Shadow Milk Cookie is basically Beetlejuice from the old 1989 cartoon and Reader is their Lydia.

Shadow Milk Cookie gets up to all kinds of PG mischief and Reader is often the one running damage control or cleaning up the mess left in their realm by Shadow Milk (often to their annoyance) or getting brought along on adventures in his realm. Similarly only capable of being summoned or dismissed from Reader’s realm by saying his full name three times in succession.

while it would seem to an outsider that they should hate each other they are actually each other’s only true best friend

(since Shadow Milk’s pranks have a habit of coming off as antagonizing if not mean spirited thus causing alienation, and Reader is regarded as a social outcast for their esoteric interests and a-typical behavior (dealer’s choice))

and they would move the sky and land of their respective realms for each other and ensure each other’s wellbeing.

(I don’t know how deep Beetlejuice’s friendship/affection towards Lydia ran since there were times I read that Beetlejuice had a weird crush on her, sooo… do with that what you wish)

----

Submitted Prompts #18

submitter this is so very silly please continue this because i love it a lot. Also send me the link to the artwork because i wanna see it.

#submission #shadow milk cookie #Shadow Milk Cookie x reader #cookie run au #cookie run x reader #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run au prompts #crk #cr kingdom

46 notes · View notes

sepublic · 2 years

Text

I dunno if there’s a name for this type of genre/setting, but. I’m really digging how S3 seems to be going for that type of story, often coming-of-age, involving a ragtag group of tweens investigating their suburban neighborhood, performing historical research and unraveling a mystery, in response to supernatural happenings. There’s a monster lurking out there, and they have not much beyond your typical, everyday household objects to defend themselves; And of course, the beloved flashlight!

Obviously three of our protagonists DO have actual magic, but I have to wonder if prolonged separation from the Demon Realm will cause a witch’s magic bile to run out... Thus forcing the kids into a time limit and making them struggle even further against the odds, esp since even their original strength wasn’t enough to defeat Belos’ monster form. This might be why Amity has her Palisman; Willow and Gus have more innate talent and thus ‘bile’ to run off of, but Amity isn’t as gifted and so runs out a lot more quickly, and has to rely on her staff as a backup.

Which, I guess is not unlike Belos, perhaps; I can definitely see him focusing on the kids’ palismen, as he deals with his own dwindling time and energy... Anyhow, I dig this type of horror story where the kids are forced to confront the hidden sins of their town’s past, as a literal ghost comes back from the dead to haunt them.

It’s a mystery and of course you have the occasional kind adult or parent struggling to make things right; Struggling against the danger that threatens the idyllic life kids are meant to have, because these types of stories I imagine are meant to shatter the illusion of a perfect suburban neighborhood, show there’s shadows lying beneath the picturesque surface and nostalgia. A critique of that nuclear family image, because of the skeletons in the closet... Typically the ones who don’t fit in, the outcasts from whom the protagonists are, and find acceptance in fighting the idyllic facade. They too relate to being unacceptable and hidden away, hence their connection to the hidden darkness they unravel. I guess that’s what’s at root behind the fundamental appeal of these stories, what makes them resonate with audiences so much, that and the rad aesthetic of course.

It’s all really a metaphor in a way for a protagonist’s struggle with their parents and their need to be accepted, even as the parent adjusts to a shaken-up status quo they’re totally unprepared for and how they can somehow maintain their duties as an adult amidst all this, accepting that this status quo isn’t so perfect after all. Like Paranorman, Stranger Things, Deltarune. I don’t know WHAT the name is for these type of stories is, but I’m delighted to see The Owl House naturally develop our protagonists’ circumstances into this kind of familiar, recognizable story. The perfect neighborhood isn’t so perfect actually, it’s all a social critique by the end of the day.

And of course, the beta AU aspects are noticeable, especially the baseball bat that is a common trope of these kinds of stories; Which just gets back to what Dana said about her original intentions for the show to be darker, even as it literally becomes so! She DID clarify that Luz and the kids were made younger and more cheerful, precisely as her own creative choice; To paraphrase, if everybody is edgy then nobody is edgy, the brightness of someone like Luz was chosen by Dana herself, not Disney, as a way to contrast with the surroundings.

BUT... That’s how it starts for the story! But as things develop and Luz’s character grows and is hurt, experiences the loss of innocence in coming of age stories... Yeah, I can see the vibes of the Beta AU always having been the intention for the crew, they just opted to have the cast evolve into that, instead of starting off that way! Which of course, creates the nice contrast between then and now that makes the darkness of recent events all the more apparent. I dig it.

It truly feels like such a natural and perfect way to portray Luz’s arc to evolve in her return to the human world, confronting what she’s learned of it since then, and coming to terms with how she doesn’t fit the mold that Gravesfield wants, recognizing its cruelty towards those outcasts, and unveiling the truth. All while finding her acceptance from her mother and peers... Because that’s what it’s really about at the heart of the story, what it’s a metaphor for. It’s the ideal and classic genre to explore and settle her issues back home, in a home that isn’t as normal as some might claim it is away from the Demon Realm.

This could easily be its own isolated, more mundane AU and I love the range this show offers; I’m almost surprised the show didn’t go for this setting earlier, but that’s only because there’s a time and place for it and the time is now after carefully building up to it. Luz is truly disillusioned with the human world after living in a different place and seeing how it easily could and should be better, which just allows her to really make a stand against it this time. Now she knows another life is viable and isn’t interested in returning back to this one. This could be the end of her hero’s journey with how Luz has come back changed; But unlike the classic version, the beginning is not her end.

#the owl house #Luz noceda #the owl house season 3 #meta #analysis #tropes

446 notes · View notes

irenespring · 24 days

Text

Possible House MD AU Project Plan

Someone stop me from making my next project a House MD/School for Good and Evil AU. I think SGE is such a fascinating world (and so much darker than I think people realize, especially people who are only familiar with the movie, there are two genocides in the first three books). I've been obsessed with it since before the third book was published and it is so much fun to adapt characters into. The possible project would be Hilson based, and involve some teacher characters from the actual SGE books.

I did this project with SVU a couple years ago and it was SO MUCH FUN. And all my readers were like "okay I have no idea what SGE is but I trust you" and ended up like "I care about this so much what the fuck is going on at the murder school how will the characters escape." I think the same reason it worked for SVU could make it work for House, though obviously it will be different because the characters are different and have different reactions to things. The issue is I only attempted such a crazy AU after like fifty works published in SVU, compared to what will be seven for House.

So bear with me, here are three possible options:

Everyone (Cuddy, Wilson, House, most side characters) are already in Good, but from vastly different backgrounds. This worked for the SVU AU because I think Good is the more interesting and more horrifying school (at least in Evil you're allowed to be gay). Wilson would be the character from "Woods Beyond" or outside the traditional fairytale realm, from a small village, Gavaldon. House is from an upper-class backgrounds within the fairytale realm. House already knew about the evils of Good, and really doesn't want to be there, because it's what his father trained him for. Wilson realizes he's gay and therefore doomed unless he and House (with help from Cuddy) can escape.

House is sorted into Evil, Wilson is sorted into Good. Mainly focuses on how unjust the sorting system can be, since in the books illustrated that a lot of Evil students were abused as children, which spurred on their behavior. Focuses on whether or not someone can be different from what is assumed (Wilson hates the restrictions and fear in Good, House doesn't want to be Evil).

SGE traditional AU: Wilson is sorted into Evil, House is sorted into Good. They are both from Gavaldon, where they were codependent friends (Wilson was the golden boy, House was the outcast). Everyone is shocked, especially them. But like what happens in the books, they both learn that yeah...maybe there is some truth to the sorting. Wilson does like not having to pretend to be perfect and conform to societal rules, and also having an outlet for his inner mean-streak. House likes not being immediately treated as a monster and learning healing potions. They plan to wait out the school and live together with magic in the woods. Except that House hates Good's rules too, and Wilson discovers about 75% of Evil's students die. Things reach a boiling point when House and Wilson are discovered, and House refuses to apologize. Then they must find a way to escape before they are summarily destroyed.

#house md #hatecrimes md #fanfiction #alternate universe #fanfic writing #gregory house #james wilson #hilson #school for good and evil #I just remembered SGE exists and feel compelled to write about it #It's such an interesting fantasy dystopia and it is clear the author created it that way on accident #There is so much creepy horror-adjacent writing to be done #It would but the characters in so many Situations #However the premise is so bizarre I would need to bet on having enough readers trust me from past work that it wouldn't suck #Or readers who are just morbidly interested in whatever crazy nonsense is going on over there #I PROMISE IT WOULD BE COHERENT AND FUN

18 notes · View notes

madame-mongoose · 1 year

Note

Please tell us about the Cinder au I love Spyro!!!

LAUGHS EVILLY YOU'VE ACTIVATED MY TRAP CARD

Okay so basically my au focuses on rewriting Cynder's story from Legends to better fit the Reignited universe while also introducing Ember and Flame into the mix. Here's their designs as I have them currently!!!

Now I'll put the lore under a readmore-

Cynder is a young dragon who originates from the Magic Crafters homeworld. Outcasted by her peers and overlooked by her elders in favor of the child hero, Spyro, she runs away. Jealous and angered over the unfairness of her situation. She stumbles inside of a cave where she finds a large, black, glowing crystal. It whispers to her, beckons her. She lays a paw on it, entranced, and blacks out. She awakes to find herself in a nightmare world. One twisted and ugly full of her fears and insecurities. She eventually finds Him. The Nightmare King, shrouded in darkness. Only his eyes able to be seen. He speaks to her and appeals to her emotions. Manipulating her and promising that she will be loved by all is she can help free him from his prison. Cynder, a young and desperate child, agrees. She awakes, her body changing, her scales darkening, her horns growing sharper, and chains forming around her neck and ankles. Marks of the nightmare king appearing on her scales. Now starts her task to free him. She becomes a terror, wielding elements of darkness to aid her in battle. She must steal a crystal from each dragon homeworld and lay them together in the abandoned Nightmare temple in dreamweavers to summon him back to the waking world.

Along her journey she meets Flame, Spyro, and Ember who she defeats in battle. Spyro being the first she beats, as he overestimates his abilities due to his previous wins. This spawns a NEED to defeat her and he chases her all across the dragon realms. She meets Flame in Peace Keepers. He boasts how he can easily defeat her, having a huge ego. But he's all bark and no bite. Her kicking his ass just crumples his self esteem completely (think teru from mp100) Spyro convinces him to join forces and they continue pursuit. They fight her together in Beast Makers and are defeated, but with quite the struggle this time. The last world she visits, Dream Weavers, is where we meet Ember. Ember is the hardest opponent she faces. Being the princess of the homeworld and also most gifted dreamwalker gives her a huge upper hand. Ember, during the battle is able to see inside Cynder's mind for a brief moment and sees the corruption she's under. And it shocks Ember so much it gives Cynder time to defeat her and continue her journey to the temple. Ember is HORRIFIED bc she KNOWS who the nightmare king is. Malefor. An ancient dragon who once overtook the lands with his creatures of terror and destruction. Every dream weaver who is set to rule is taught this history and made to meet him in the dreamscape to understand truly what a monster he is. Ember screwed up when she met him tho, and a piece of him escaped. Growing that crystal found in Magic Crafters.

Cynder makes it to the temple and lays out all the crystals in order, ready to summon her King. Spyro, Flame, and Ember all confront her, but it's already too late. She frees him from the nightmare realm. The mass amount of power she uses knocks her out, the portal she opened beginning to suck her in. Ember, in a state of pity for her rescues her last minute and takes her with the group to safety. When Cynder wakes up she is PISSED. (This is pretty much all the most detailed plot I have so far the rest is story beats) After that I want Cynder to have a moment of clarity and realize through a really hard hitting scene that Malefor was just using her. It takes her a while but she slowly reforms and tries to make amends. Her and Ember have a love hate relationship. Ember feeling guilt over being the cause of this in the first place, but also hating Cynder's guts for what she did. And Cynder just hating her in general akhdjs. Flame being very skeptical and the hardest to warm up to Cynder. Kinda taking a Sparx like role from Legends? Except less annoying bc fuck Legends Sparx fr. Spyro I'm still debating on tbh. I want him to be really headstrong and like child hero syndrome?? And Cynder eventually becomes like bad influence big sis to him?? But yeah they all create a found family thing and figure out a way to defeat Malefor for good

#also cynder and ember are enemies to friends to lovers #bc i said so #spyro #spyro reignited trilogy #spyro reginited #cynder #cynder the dragon #my art #monnie answers

232 notes · View notes

loweya-blog · 10 months

Text

Mammon Deity AU Headcanon

What does Mammon look like as a deity?

Deity: The Great Mammon

Other Titles: Father of Crows, Gilded Trickster, King of Calamity

Main Domain: Fortune/Misfortune

Old Domain: Fortune (only fortune)

Other domains: Wealth, travel, and trade

Symbolic Animal: Crows

Outfit: Black and golden silks, as if he would settle for less. Of course with plenty of chest exposure. 😉

Accessories: Golden earrings and rings

Personal Item: Goldie, his pouch that has infinite amount of grim/human currency

Old God Era

Before being outcasted, he was the deity of pure fortune.

The Old Gods (what I’m calling them for now.) had believed that deities needed to be pure good and only influence the world in purely good ways. But even before he was an outcast, Mammon struggled with this idea.

Because of his trickster personality, Mammon was too much for Michael to handle and give over to Lucifer to essentially raise.

As a deity, he would give people fortune through wealth. People would beg for him to give them luck on certain things or to give them wealth. However, sometimes Mammon gave wealth to the wrong people or at the wrong times and this ended up causing problems on Earth.

Michael would get pissed at Mammon but this was one of the few times Lucifer would stand up for him, since Mammon can’t control fate or the future.

New God Era

When he was casted out of the old god’s realms, he acquired a new domain. Misfortune.

Despite what the brothers think, the new domains they acquired were domains they were always meant to have, if they hadn’t been suppressing themselves to be pure.

He was the fastest to adapt to the new gods, though he hated how himself and his siblings were treated as not part of the new faction so he led them to fight Cerberus, which almost got them killed until Lucifer stepped in.

Now as a deity of fortune and misfortune, he’ll give people fortune in exchange for misfortune for something else.

Oftentimes he’ll be trying to outsmart those who call upon him and cheat them out of their wealth or fortunes.

However, if he takes a shine to someone, they’ll be showered in non-stop wealth and fortune.

He ended up showering a sick little girl in silks, wealth, and coins. This ultimately helped the girl but she was confused when all of this started appearing in her room. Also she wanted a toy, not a brand new racing horse.

Due to one of his schemes, he accidentally created a widely used trading route.

Though he didn’t intend to create the new silk road, he fully accepted the mortal’s new sacrifices for the trade network.

Most people blame him for their misfortunes, even when he didn’t cause it or when it happened for reasons outside of his control.

He’s gotten used to it but it still hurts internally when people only see him as a scummy god or some cause of calamity

But he does kind of like the “King of Calamity” title since it sounds badass

When pissed off, he absolutely will cause misfortune on purpose. He can make a mortal’s life absolutely miserable if they manage to piss him off. This is rare.

Usually a mortal can only do this by severely insulting one of his brothers or his dead sister.

Considered getting a crow feathered cape but the idea of crows without their feathers made him too upset to actually buy it.

He feeds a flock of crows and takes care of them. They're considered The Great Mammon's sacred crows. Nobody is allowed to touch them but him.

59 notes · View notes

doors-to-infinity · 1 year

Text

A DP x DC crossover. A what if went through my head. What if somebody from the DCU gets incomplete information about a Halfa, wants one, can’t reach them because they’re too far away in a different universe?

And decides- then we’ll make one (with the incomplete information they have) and control them! Because they come to the conclusion that halfas are pretty powerful. (Spoilers: They are in this AU!)

So the prompt:

Somebody from DC researching different universes finds out about halfas - specifically the most recent entity (Danny, not that they now that) - ghost portals, the Infinite Realms, while lacking crucial details. What they pick up leads them to the belief that they could turn a human into a monster capable of adapting their strength and powers to anything.

So they kidnap Batman - as one epitome of what an average human without modifications., enhancements, metagene, etc. can achieve - and somehow brute reverse-engineer the transformation via ectoplasm. (Not Lazarus Waters.)

'Somehow' means that they don't replicate the exact details of Danny's accident. It’s simply impossible because they're in a different universe with different rules and there's various differences between Bruce and Danny.

He 'survives' as a halfa, because he clings to his love for his family and friends. He doesn't want to leave them hurt again, his children orphaned (once more) and his father lost of his son. That lets the universe-boundary-shattering metamorphosis take hold. His body is torn apart and put back together, ectoplasm infusing him.

It also fries his memories (temporarily). He only remembers that he has to 'protect' someone, with his focus being on the outcast and children. It’s not an obsession, more like the only lead he has in his worries. (There are no ghost obsessions in this AU.) He flees, frenzied in pain and lack of memories, and believing for the short-term future that he's dead so he's stuck in ghost form.

Not that anybody has these details at first because their experiment goes horribly wrong for these people as well as Bruce. Their memories get fried as well that they don't even remember their research on different universes or that they had Batman kidnapped. Any records were destroyed. The portal blew up.

Unfortunately it’s enough for those who paid for them to keep looking for Bruce.

It leaves Bruce's loved ones believe that these people might've killed him. There's simply too much of his blood on the scene and everything points to human experimentation.

Bruce drifts in the physical world and feels drawn to Gotham, where he becomes a helpful, protective cryptid.

Danny, in the ghostzone, feels a full-body shiver. He’s no Ghost King, will never be, but somehow he senses that something has happened.

Clockwork’s senses have alerted him to this and he’s grim.

Remember - halfas are powerful in the AU. Bruce has no idea what happened to him and is in a bad mental state from his half-death on top of his already existing trauma. He fears that his family is dead but doesn’t know and the uncertainty makes things worse for his mind.

Nobody has idea what he’ll be able to do because the way he became a halfa, his mental state, his experiences, his age, all differs from Danny.

I promise for this would be a happy ending, if bittersweet. Bruce died - he was changed in a way that can't be undone. Not to mention the side-effects as well as adapting to that he's a new species. His loved ones at least thought for a few weeks that he was completely gone.

#dp x dc crossover #dc x dp #dp x dc #bruce wayne

157 notes · View notes

anartisticalniche · 4 months

Note

Hii I love your au sm and question what's the timeline in the au??

thanks alot glad ya like it!

dont wanna spoil too much of it so im going to describe it as plainly as possible:

-Pre-main story: how the Mario Bros and SMG4 were before and what they were doing before Mario vanishes

-Mario disappears from the kingdom, and SMG4 is first asked by Luigi and then ordered by Peach to search for him in the seas, accompained by Tari and Saiko

-They meet SMG3, and get captured, forced to join his crew instead

-They meet the Outcasts (Meggy, Axol and Boopkins) and bond with them (under the pretense that Three wants to capture them for money, but then changes his mind)

-They get both find out by the Great Barrier inhabitants almost traspassing the forbidden borders and also ratted out to the Mushroom Kingdom guards by someone in the crew (wont say who tho😝) and a war between the two Kingdoms/Realms wages, with the crew right in the middle of it

-SMG4 and SMG3 are the only ones (alongside another character) that get separated from the battle, and are both stranded on a strange island (lots of bonding between the two of them in this part eheh)

-A mythical legend becomes a reality and they have to destroy the big bad villain (i wont say who it is yet) and the climax of the plot happens

-after joining forces and havin destroyed a bigger enemy than themselves, the sea and land people are at peace with each other, and SMG4 and others decide to join the crew for real, and the adventures continue afterwards

This is what i got for the main story, then after that ill play around with some more stuff that happens in universe and make some more side comics (both general and shippy ones dw😌), mixing ideas etc

#also #we MIGHT lose some characters along the way #cant expect me to keep everyone alive now can we *laughs evilly*#so yeah lots of adventure angst and gayness in my AU #better be prepared😂#smg4 pirate au #a corsair freebooter #nichetalk

22 notes · View notes

goldenheart-supremacy · 8 months

Text

Outcast of the Realm, AU Part 2

Part one

Nimona is the 'young girl' Nimona from the movie in this AU, so expect a meeker personality...

Nimona is mostly compliant to the director because they understand how it's only cause they're under her protection that aren't being haunted down.

The Director told Nimona how she saved her from the rest of her kind who are nothing but monsters.

The Director also lied about Nimona's parents; she told them that Nimona's parents would've eaten her alive if she hadn't saved them.

Nimona still shifts to whatever they want, but only when the director isn't around.

The director lets Nimona shift, but she usually instructs them to practice shifting into dangerous things and trains her to fight.

Nimona complies, but they don't really want to hurt anyone.

Nimona knows that the Queen was working on a way for people to accept shapeshifters more, however this confused them because they met the Queen once and they thought they were nice, and like the director told them, Shapeshifters were evil.

"That's why I want you to learn how to fight. Some people don't like this, and they could be violent. You need to help protect the queen, understood?" This was the frame of thought the Director tells Nimona.

Nimona was hoping that if the Queen was successful in "changing shapeshifter's for the better" that the Director would allow them to explore the world more themselves. They don't know, of course, that the director's just lying to them and how humans were labelling the "slave shapeshifters" as the good ones, and the "free shapeshifters" as the ones with evil intentions and needed to be hunted down.

Unless the shapeshifter allowed themselves to be slaves and servants, they would be executed once caught.

The director was still working on a way to kill the Queen.

Plot twist: Ballister is a half-shifter and half-human. This meant he could shift, but only to one thing; a black panther.

Plot twist: The queen is the reason for him being 'half-human' Plainly said, she's the mother. The 'human half'

The father was sent away as an order of the Queen. He only found out later that the document that sent him away was fake and Valerin never wanted to them to leave.

Before his death, he gave Ballister a sword with a secret crest that Valerin gave him before the night they conceived Ballister.

His dying breath was 'Show this to the queen... She will lead you to your mother.'

Ballister's goal in life, apart from protecting innocent humans and shapeshifters alike, is to find his mother.

Ambrosius is still a knight here. His job entails leading hunts and/or help build relocation sites for the "slave shapeshifters".

While people wanted the shapeshifters as slaves, they didn't wanted them living with them in their homes.

Ambrosius was still a Gloreth descendant, except Gloreth's backstory is just being one of the most well known shapeshifter hunters in history.

Gloreth's a hunter that's well respected by everyone in the realm, even the director.

The director has an unhealthy obssession with Ambrosius because of this. [Yeah, you know... She is judge Frollo in this AU, too.]

This is why Ambrosius also volunteers a lot to head into field missions; to avoid being alone with the director.

He already confronted her about it, but Ambrosius is certain she would try something crafty if the opportunity presented itself.

However, Ambrosius couldn't actively go against the director so this was the best thing he could do.

After returning to the main city from another finished construction of a shapeshifter village/slum, Ambrosius reported to the director.

It was something he begrudgingly did every time. Luckily, a briefing session with her always meant her advisors had to be in audience so she definitely couldn't try anything then.

Ambrosius's latest assignment would be to track down a particular 'black panther.'

This specific 'black panther' is presumed to be a shapeshifter that they couldn't confirm for sure yet.

They are assuming it's a shapeshifter because it's seemed far too intelligent to be a simple animal.

However, they are also aware that some animals can be intelligent.

If it was a shapeshifter, the director wanted to get something from it. Even if they couldn't capture it once confirming it is a shapeshifter, the director instructed Ambrosius to do their best to get something from it; a limb for instance.

This was so she could leave it somewhere to frame the shapeshifter after she finally got around to killing the Queen.

Cutting off a limb doesn't usually prove fatal for a shifter, because the limb could just regenerate.

But of course, Ballister's half a shifter so it wouldn't regenerate. He still has fast healing, though.

That's all for now. Need to figure out other things for more later.

#nimona #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #goldenheart #ballister x ambrosius #Nimona AU #Outcast of the Realm AU

50 notes · View notes

lynxgriffin · 1 year

Note

I'm curious about the world of Eldritchrune. Is there a Light World where Kris came from and if so how did they access the Dark World and find Ralsei? Are there multiple Dark Worlds? Also how does one tame great and terrible beasts? Sorry if that's a lot of questions but this AU is so cool!

Haha, thank you very much! I'm honestly playing a lot of it by ear myself. XD To try and muse some things out…

Yeah, Kris would come from a light world (or just a normal world in this case), probably with a rigid and unforgiving social structure where they already are an outcast. To even find the Dark World, they'd probably need some forbidden texts from the librarby, plus a ritual of some kind to get themselves a portal to it.

I think it'd just be one large Dark Realm, rather than multiple Dark Worlds with their own fountains. If it's one big area though, places of it probably look pretty different…some more wild and some more like ancient civilizations.

They'd need some knowledge forbidden to mortals, which would come at a great cost, as those things tend to do! Then they'd probably be able to both understand and speak to the Eldritch beasts, and then actually command them with specific words. But, in order to actually maintain that influence they would have to treat them as friends or at least be considerate to them...something Ralsei would insist is "the power of friendship" and all that!

#ask lynx stuff #Eldritchrune

85 notes · View notes

pininghermit · 1 year

Text

Betrayed Flames (Alucard x Reader)

Request: Hi! I came across your blog and found your writing very delightful! I wanted to suggest an AU for Alucard, one was an friends to enemies to lovers type or an AU in which the reader and Alucard knew each other beforehand but the reader died and was reincarnated but only Alucard remembers them. Thank you for considering! @houseof-harkness

Pairing: Adrian x Witch Reader

Summary: Fire, while capable of nurturing and providing warmth, could also be destructive and consuming. You carried the responsibility of balancing these opposing forces within you, understanding that your power could both create and destroy.

AN: I hope you like this. As always this will be getting a part 2 which I will be working on soon (*staring at my wips)

Deep within the secluded depths of the dense forest lies a hidden realm, veiled from the prying eyes of society. It is here that a group of individuals known as witches dwell, existing as social outcasts on the fringes of the broader population. These enigmatic beings have deliberately chosen seclusion, retreating from the bustling towns and cities to evade the clutches of the church.

Within the forest, they find solace and freedom, escaping the constraints imposed by society's norms and expectations. Surrounded by whispering trees and the mystical energies of nature, they embrace their unique abilities and knowledge, honing their craft in secrecy. These witches possess ancient wisdom passed down through generations, harnessing powers that the world often misunderstands or fears.

While the rest of society views them with suspicion or hostility, the witches find solace in their hidden haven, far removed from the watchful eyes of those who fail to comprehend their true nature. It is within these secluded woods that they commune with the forces of nature, forging a deep connection with the earth, the elements, and the unseen realms.

Their practices, rituals, and beliefs diverge from the teachings of the church, and it is this perceived deviation that has driven them into exile. Seeking refuge among the ancient trees, they preserve their traditions, explore the mysteries of the universe, and find a sense of belonging among their kind.

While the witches may remain hidden, their presence in the forest is palpable. It is a realm where magic and the supernatural intertwine, where secrets are whispered among the leaves, and where the witches can truly be themselves. The forest serves as their sanctuary, protecting them from the prying eyes and judgments of the outside world.

In the depths of the forest, the witches thrive, each possessing unique abilities and perspectives. They form a community bound by shared understanding and acceptance of one another. Together, they navigate the intricacies of their existence, drawing strength from the bonds they have forged and the hidden powers that lie within them.

You grew up in this forest, surrounded by women who rejected society in favor of practicing the powers gifted to them by the world. They were not just witches; they were farmers, warriors, scientists. Their seclusion promised more freedom than any prestige or social acceptance ever could.

While you did not live in extravagant palaces or adorn yourself with invaluable jewels, you were content spending your life wandering among the trees. Your home provided more comfort than any worldly riches could offer. It was far superior to the society that sought to burn you into oblivion.

You vowed never to let anyone harm your people, for as long as you stayed alive. You would unleash your fire upon anyone who dared to try. Yes, you were born with the magic of fire coursing through your veins—an insatiable hunger gripping you since the day of your birth.

However, you were also aware of the dual nature of your power. Fire, while capable of nurturing and providing warmth, could also be destructive and consuming. You carried the responsibility of balancing these opposing forces within you, understanding that your power could both create and destroy.

The forest was not the only solitary existence in those woods. You had the most peculiar neighbor in the form of Count Dracula, whom very few dared to challenge. Both the colony of witches and the Count existed in peaceful harmony.

But for you, you found a friend in Dracula's son, Adrian. A Dhampir, who, like you, knew very little of the world. You were both young and the forest became a playground for your adventures. Every day was an opportunity to explore springs, discover unique rocks, and create colorful bouquets out of weeds.

The forest became your playground, a realm where imagination knew no bounds. Amidst the whispering trees and dancing sunlight, you embarked on countless adventures, discovering hidden springs, collecting unique rocks, and creating vibrant bouquets out of humble weeds. Every day brought new excitement, a testament to the magic of friendship and the enchantment of nature.

Adrian, with his vampiric heritage, possessed extraordinary abilities that fascinated and intrigued you. He demonstrated his supernatural speed, effortlessly gliding through the forest like a fleeting shadow. His sharp fangs, a symbol of his vampiric lineage, both frightened and captivated you as you marveled at the unique traits he inherited.

In turn, you shared your own magic with Adrian, showcasing your burgeoning abilities with fireworks of light dancing on your fingertips. The night sky became your canvas as you wove spells of color and wonder, filling the air with shimmering displays. Adrian's eyes sparkled with joy and awe, his laughter echoing through the forest as your magic lit up the darkness, occasionally leaving burned holes in your dresses. Being a Dhampir, he was not bound by the limitations of the night. Together, you and your friend freely roamed the forest, exploring its wonders under both daylight and moonlight.

In a world where you were exiled for your nature, your friendship with Adrian became a saving grace.

You met Lisa, Adrian's mother, very early in your friendship. She was a human healer who displayed immense kindness towards you, the only human who had ever done so. Even your biological parents had not shown such compassion. Whenever you talked to Lisa, the fields of magic and science converged, creating a profound connection.

Even the reclusive colony of witches opened their gates to Adrian. They welcomed the child of Dracula into their homes, whether it was the ice witch with her unmelting snowflakes in the summer or the earth witch teaching both of you the language of trees.

The forest aligned its two forces, creating a community of two existences that had seldom communicated before.

However, it all came crashing down one day. You watched in horror as humans from the nearby village rushed in with torches and pitchforks. They burned your houses and harmed the people who raised you.

The witches fought back, and the forest seemed to join their cause. Elements danced on their fingers as they tried to defend what they had built with such effort. You stood there with them, countering the fire of the torches with the fire on your fingertips. But alas, fire does not quench fire. The smell of burning flesh filled the clearing you once called home.

Hidden behind metal shields, the humans came prepared with their wards. As you looked around, you could see humans closing in on your camp.

Someone had to hold them back, someone had to create an opportunity for others to reach the castle. Rushing others out of the way, you stood in front of the crowd that hollered at you with hate in their eyes. Fire raced on your fingers as you summoned the very last of your power.

It was enough to burn you and the rest of the crowd. It would buy time for others to make it to Adrian. And if, by some grace, you survived, you wanted to see your friend and thank him for his help.

As you fought alone, you felt the wetness of your blood flowing from your nose. Your eyes had been dry for a long time now. You blinked, trying to focus and spot potential attacks.

That's when you spotted him—Adrian. Relief washed over you as you watched him from afar. He had come at last. Your people had made it. But your relief shattered when you saw him standing next to your attackers.

Concealed behind the forms of men who shouted slurs at you, you observed his hard-set face, so different from the easy-going smiles of your friend. "Adrian," you called out, but he did not respond.

His face flickered with some emotion as you felt a pitchfork stab you. He did not reach forward to help you. No, he just stood there as your body collided with the cold, hard ground of the forest floor.

The men around you cursed death and doom upon you, while a priest walked ahead, muttering prayers that escaped you.

"Were the rest captured?" the man next to the priest asked as you held your arms behind your back. They cuffed your hands, and your magic died.

Your heart stopped when another man replied with a loud "yes" that rang in your head. No, no, no, they couldn't be captured. You looked at Adrian, who remained unmoving from his spot. He must have saved them. He would never let harm come their way…

"All dead." The world ceased to exist. Your eyes, which had dried a long time ago, filled up with tears.

As you lay on the ground, gasping for breath, your gaze locked with Adrian's. Anguish and confusion washed over you as you struggled to comprehend his betrayal.

"Why, Adrian?" you managed to choke out between breaths, your voice strained with hurt. "We were friends. We were supposed to protect each other."

Adrian's eyes met yours, but they were filled with anger and resentment instead of the warmth and understanding you once knew. "You witches… You're the reason my mother is dead!" he spat, his voice laced with bitterness.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to understand the depth of his pain. "Adrian, we would never harm Lisa. You know that! She was kind to me, to all of us."

His face twisted in a mixture of rage and grief. "Kindness? Is that what you call it? She was burned alive, mistaken for a witch! And what did your precious coven do? Nothing! You just stood by, letting innocent people suffer!"

The words pierced through your heart like a blade. "Adrian, you know it wasn't us. We didn't do this. We've always sought peace, harmony with nature. The villagers were the ones who attacked us, who attacked you!"

He sneered, his voice filled with disdain. "Don't play innocent with me. You witches and your powers, always manipulating, always pretending to be benevolent. But I see through it now. I see the truth."

Adrian declared coldly. "You witches have taken everything from me. Now it's time for you to pay."

When the men failed to burn you, their fire unable to harm you. They tied you to a heavy rock and pushed you into a stream where you had countless meetings with Adrian.

As you were dragged towards the stream, the weight of betrayal and sorrow weighed heavy on your heart. The sound of rushing water grew louder, drowning out any hope for reconciliation.

As the cold water engulfed you, your voice faded into silence, but the fire of vengeance burned brighter than ever within you.

But even as water rushed into your lungs and breathing became difficult, only one thought consumed your mind—vengeance.

You promised to return, and when you did, everyone would pay for their crimes, even your beloved friend would not be spared.

As your world fell into the darkness of the void. Not far away in a lavish room a woman labored as nurses and doctors rushed around her.

It had been hours since her contractions started. Even the most experienced of nurses seemed to have lost hope. The child should have been dead by now.

But then in a matter of seconds the situation flips itself as the anxious nursemaid hands the mayor the the village his daughter.

A daughter whose eyes shine brighter than any she's ever seen before.

#alucard #alucard x reader #castlevania #adrian tepes #friends to enemies #childhood friends #witches #Adrian x witch reader #adrian tepes x reader #betrayal #hurt and possible comfort

71 notes · View notes

illwynd · 6 months

Text

A Song in the Key of Death

It's still Halloween, so here's a new spookyfic!

Human AU, teen outcast Loki and dead rocker Thor. Loosely based on Trick or Treat (1986). 3.3k words.

“You should be loyal to your heroes. They can turn on you.” - Sammi Curr

Contents: thorki, underage sexuality, bullying, violence, mentions of death

(Read on AO3 or read below)

Hero worship is easy when you’re a high school outcast. Especially when your hero is Thor.

Loki lies in bed, headphones on his ears, Thor’s voice loud in his head. Drums thrash, guitars scream, and at the center of it all is Thor. He has Thor’s poster on the opposite wall, where he can look at it as he’s falling asleep.

Thor’s music speaks to him.

His parents disapprove. His classmates call him a freak, a weirdo.

Loki doesn’t care.

He’s bought all the magazines with pictures of Thor in them, and he’s bought all his albums, and he’s watched all his videos. Loki’s dreams at night are filled with the way Thor moves, sleek black leather clinging to his legs, the torn shirt practically falling off his shoulders, so much bare skin, and he bares it as if daring anyone to say anything. His eyes are piercing and lined with kohl and his hair is long and messy and his body is thick and powerful. Anyone could want him. He could want anyone. Clearly, neither of those possibilities bothers him. In the realm of metal, Thor is a god, above all the petty prejudices and small-minded fears.

Loki thinks about it and he writes letters he doesn’t send.

Thor, if I ever met you, would you want me?

No one else seems to.

Loki watches as the media tries to tear Thor down, calling him satanic, calling him depraved, calling him obscene, and he feels like he understands, the way no one else could. They’re both misunderstood. They’re both mistreated. The only difference is… Loki longs for Thor with a ferocity that only a lonely 17-year-old can muster, and Thor doesn’t know he exists.

Loki dreams and he plays Thor’s records obsessively and he knows every song by heart and he writes still more letters. Letters he would not ever admit to writing.

The week Thor dies, Loki is in a daze. He hears about it in a brief mention on some news show his mother is watching, and he doesn’t think it can possibly be true. A freak accident. A fire in his hotel.

Loki doesn’t remember anything about the next day at all. Or the day after that. Even the bloody nose and bruises he gets from a couple of the more brainless of the high school assholes when his inattention gets him in trouble, even that barely registers. The shove at his backpack at the top of the stairs, barely catching himself from going down face-first but catching himself wrenches his shoulder on the banister and practically breaks his arm, and the laughter of his classmates all around at his pale sweating face and pained gasps. Then being the one to get a detention when he leaps up and lashes out at the one who had pushed him, driven by fury. His hero's dead and this is the shit he has to deal with every day and nothing is ever going to get any better. And even that fades into the dull grey of bitterness like a fog in his mind, until none of it seems to matter.

And then it’s Friday, and he stays up late because there’s a storm coming and he suddenly wants it. He wants to hear the sky tearing itself apart.

The wind howls and the clouds race past the distant stars and he goes for a walk, not even bothering with an umbrella or a slicker, just pulling his hoodie up to cover the earphones, and Thor’s voice rings out over the rumble of the storm.

The smell of ozone. Metal on his tongue. The feeling of the hairs on his neck rising.

Loki realizes what it means half a second too late.

It is the brightest light he’s ever seen, and the loudest sound he’s ever heard, and as it passes through him, too sharp and sudden to even be called pain, he is sure he is going to die.

He wakes up in a hospital bed. He knows it from the subtle but pervasive odor of disinfectant, the unsettling feeling of an IV drip taped into a vein in the crook of his arm, the warble of distant beeping machines.

Below that sound, even softer, though, there is music. He can hear it. He doesn’t know the song. But then Thor starts singing.

He knows Thor’s voice. He’d recognize it anywhere. And it is not a song Loki has ever heard before. Loki tries to find out from the nurses—only once, though, after the way they look at him when he asks about the music.

He’s discharged the next day, with some painkillers for the burns and an order to call them if anything gets worse, and he goes home and frantically Googles all the lyrics he scribbled down. Surely it’s some unreleased material, right? Some songs that never made it onto an album. That happened all the time, and it's possible he was hearing, oh, strains from some orderly's headphones amplified through a vent near his bed, something weird like that. Isn't that possible?

But he turns up nothing about the lyrics, if so. Dejected, he goes to the kitchen to find something to cram in his face.

The toaster shocks him when he tries to make toast. The coffee pot sputters and gurgles and dies. The clock on the microwave flashes 6:66.

At least peanut butter smeared on a slice of bread doesn’t require electricity.

Soon after, Loki lies down to sleep in his own bed, with a sigh, and he stares up at the poster of Thor. Loki would feel like more of a creep, studying every inch of Thor’s body in the picture, except for the look in Thor’s eyes. He feels like, somehow, they already know each other.

He slips into dreams and Thor is there. Above him on a stage, growling into the mike, screaming the melody, hips gyrating. Then the stage is gone and it’s just them, and it’s so real he can smell Thor’s sweat. There’s nothing sweet about it. Thor between his legs, and it’s sharp and real and he’s never felt so alive.

He wakes up slowly the next morning. Late morning. Saturday. The house empty and echoing with the distant sounds of lawnmowers and cars going by on the street and kids playing in the neighboring yards. He lies there with his eyelids glued shut, groaning under his breath. Throws an arm up over his head to hide from the creeping sunlight for as long as he can, and he’s half dozing when the music starts up again.

The strange thing, though, is that this time it sounds distorted, the way a record sounds when you spin it backwards. He’s heard of that, bands doing it as a joke or a way to mess with all the most credulous parents and preachers and journalists who are deeply concerned with the forces leading the youth astray. The corner of his mouth curls up reflexively.

But the difference is that there’s no vinyl under his fingers. The disjointed rhythm and jolting vocals are coming from nowhere, drowning out all the more prosaic sounds from beyond his window, and there's no logical theory he can invent this time for where it could be coming from.

And as he listens, his body feeling like he’s drifting, floating, and impossibly heavy all at the same time, he begins to make sense of the sounds. Begins to pick out the words.

Pentagram circle – lightning struck – bring me back – bring me – obey me – bring me – obey me – pentagram circle – lightning struck

Loki breathes slowly, hearing his heart beat in his ears.

He does it that night, alone in his room. He’s researched as much as he can and he’s put together the rest by feel, by intuition. He draws the pentagram on his floor in ashes, with black and red candles burning at the five points. He plays Thor’s albums on his stereo while he recites an incantation he found on the internet, elaborated with a few of Thor's lyrics to make it sound cooler. But nothing happens until he switches his stereo off, falls silent, feeling foolish for having tried. He presses his hands against his eyes. When he opens them again, his gaze lands on the plasma ball sitting on his shelf, a toy he had barely thought of in years.

He was already lightning-struck and still has the burns to prove it. But the feeling, the taste in the air as he clicks it on…

He can hear music again, softly.

He kneels beside the pentagram, and as the music grows louder he tries to hum along. He can hear words and he sings the chorus, his hands on the plasma ball, the tickle of electricity on his fingertips.

He should be more surprised when a shadow fills the center of the symbol on his floor. Tall black leather boots. Sweeping upward, torn black skintight denim. Mesh over pale, muscled abdomen. More leather over the broad, massive shoulders. Tendons of the neck and the strong, set jaw. Long black hair, messy and animal. Fierce eyes…

The scars on his face, his arms—those take a moment to register. Burn scars, deep and gnarled.

“Thor,” Loki says, the name filling his mouth as his eyes are wide with awe. It’s the moment he’s always dreamed of. And this, this is something he never would have thought it could be. It is Thor in his bedroom. Because he called him back to the world of the living. Because he resurrected his hero from death.

He thinks of his old lust-sodden fantasies and he knows that they were nothing compared to this. They were sad and desperate, begging for a single scrap of attention or acknowledgment. Once, just to breathe the same air as Thor, he’d have considered his whole life fulfilled. Once, he’d written so many secret longings, in the terribly certainty that Thor would never know, would never see them, would never care. Hopelessness had been safety, and despair.

Now, he watches as Thor frowns down at his kneeling form.

And he watches as Thor takes in the sight of everything else around him and seems to come to a conclusion in a moment, striding forth, breaking free of the pentagram’s boundaries with a shiver of blue-white lightning crackling all over his form.

Thor strides forth, seeming not to notice him at all.

The dark figure of him slips into the shadows and disappears.

All the candles go out.

Loki lies on his bed for the next day and a half. He lies curled around his radio, weakness immobilizing him.

The news pours in. Electrical storms. Freak accidents in which dozens of people were injured or died. Speakers, amplifiers. Live mikes. Event sound systems.

Loki lies there listening, and inside him a fury is growing. He has been loyal. He has never been as devoted to anything or anyone as he is to Thor. To Thor’s music. To his message. To… to him. He has been loyal!

He thinks it like a scream. He can feel it in his throat, searing.

It was Thor who lied, who deceived. It was Thor who used him.

Why had Thor simply… walked over him, not even glancing at the one who had brought him back? Why had Thor not even noticed him?

Loki girds himself and prepares. He loads up his parents’ car (the one nobody really drives often, the terrible old sky-blue Cutlass just sitting out in the garage with rust in its wheel-wells and a cassette deck that eats tapes every full moon) with his backpack and camping gear from his brief truncated scouting days and a bunch of junk food and torn paper maps, and he hits the road, intuition still pulling him along like a current.

He still just wants Thor. But now there is more than that.

His hero has turned on him. And though he is not stupid or naïve enough to believe in fairness in the universe, it is a situation that calls for action.

Thor is somewhere out there, killing people, breaking things, wreaking havoc. Loki figures he can find him, can let the same feeling deep inside pull him along like a tide to wherever his hero is. And then there will be a reckoning.

It is a foolish thought, perhaps. One that only a dejected 17-year-old could have conceived.

Being too young and dumb to know what is impossible is an advantage sometimes.

He drives with the radio turned low and the windows rolled down, the air off the highway buffeting in his face and stirring the hairs on his arm, fighting against the heat of the sunlight. Smell of asphalt and diesel exhaust and the endless fields along the roadside. He’s been driving for hours, barely aware of the mutter of “Crazy Train” through the speakers. When the song cuts out in another two and a half minutes, the station turns over to a news break, a radio announcer’s impassive description of the inexplicable trail of mayhem that has struck over the last few days. No one wants to say it, no one wants to admit that the string of incidents is connected. No one wants to acknowledge the obvious.

That, at least, is a problem Loki doesn’t have. He knows exactly who is at the center of the storm.

And maybe that’s why he’s the only one who seems to notice that… the body count isn’t what it should have been. The last few, particularly.

But it’s hard to think on that too deeply when the music inside him is welling, drowning out the monotone of the newscaster entirely.

The song has been growing louder since three exits back, and his hands grip the steering wheel. His knuckles creak. His heart thuds in his chest. He shifts his hips on sky-blue leather, a subtle motion of his driving foot to relieve the tension that has built up in his body.

What will he do if he finds him? What will he say?

He’s still wondering when the air rushing over his arm grows cooler, the sunlight abruptly gone, clouds closing in overhead.

The song grows louder still as the first drops pelt down on the windshield, and he curses and hits the wipers as the rain brings down all the dust with it, splattering the car with crud, smearing it grey-brown across the glass.

“You don’t play fair, man,” Loki murmurs, grumbles. His lip twitches. “That’s okay. I'm used to it.”

He knows the place instantly when he sees it. The music has been growing louder for the last hour, until the rhythm of the drumbeat has taken up residence in Loki’s core and the shriek of the chords travels along his every nerve. He jolts the steering wheel sharply to the right, veering off the highway, down the side road, onto what can barely be called a driveway, into a dirt lot that’s already half filled with vehicles even older and more beat-up than his.

It’s gonna happen here. He knows it, even as he slams it into park and yanks up the emergency brake. He has to sit there shuddering for a few moments, the car still trembling beneath him in sympathy.

Screaming metal, a song in the key of death, battles against the sounds of pedal steel guitar in a whining country tune.

The door hinges squeal likewise and nobody even notices when a 17-year-old wanders into the bar, and for that he supposes he should be a little bit grateful. He takes in the smells of spilt cheap beer and cheap bar food and too-infrequent bathing and various varieties of road dirt. He takes in the sights of an entirely different sort of leather boots and sticky-topped tables and the chicken wire surrounding the whole stage area, walling it off from the jeers of flying glass. There’s a band up there now, just getting tuned up for the evening. It makes Loki think of the “Rawhide” theme for a second, and the idea makes him laugh.

He’s got his hand in a bowl of free peanuts and pretzels when Thor shows up and takes over the stage. The musicians around him jolt at first with electricity, pain written across their faces. A few resist it, fight back. They’re the ones that slump to the ground soon after.

The rest go along with it, and their bodies begin to play their instruments in a way they never would have before. A tune they do not know. A stubborn energy that doesn’t come from their tired bones.

There is lightning crackling over everything as Thor’s form appears in the midst of them, limned in spotlight blue. Chains glittering. Leather glistening.

Loki wants to see it. Part of him just wants to be part of this. He never got to go to one of Thor’s live shows when he was, well, alive. He can’t miss the chance now, and he pushes forward through the press of hicks and bikers to get closer to the stage.

Another part of him, though, is burning. His hands clench at his sides.

If Thor is going to be going around exacting revenge like this, he at least owes it to Loki—the reason Thor is alive again—to bring him with. Loki has plenty of his own revenge that he’d like to grab.

That is what infuriates him the most. The fact that Thor had dismissed him without a thought. Walked past him and turned away after everything Loki had done for him. After how much Loki had wanted him and everything he was.

When the first bolt of lightning shoots from the neck of Thor’s guitar, Loki can taste it in the air. Revels in it, in the sight of some wannabe-cowboy burning to a crisp not twenty feet away from him.

Another bolt shoots out. Another.

People are screaming, running, fleeing. Suede fringe and bolo braids flying.

Loki is ducking between them, toward the side of the room—he’d spotted it when he first came in, a door that barred the way to the stage area.

The knob turns under his hand.

When he makes it up onto the platform, there’s nobody else left alive in the building. Dead musicians and dead patrons and dead barmen.

Thor is still there, panting hard under the bright lights, guitar still slung on a heavy chain over his shoulders. Sweat glinting. The lights hot and still.

Loki approaches, fearless, and he feels himself smiling.

“You need me. It’s all been falling apart, hasn’t it?” he says, thinking of the newscaster's bland monotone. Feeling the fading bruises on his own body from school. The feeling. The feeling that has driven him. The vengeance and rage and betrayal.

Thor plays a broken, sorrowful chord before the pick falls from his fingers. His face turns sharply to where Loki stands.

“I brought you back, Thor. You owe everything to me.”

Thor stares at him, brow twisting.

Loki spreads his hands, welcoming. “Come here, beautiful.”

Thor strides closer. And in the empty bar, Loki reaches up and trails his fingertips across Thor's scarred face.

“Your music will live forever. The legend of you will keep it alive. No one will ever be able to forget,” he promises. “At least, that’s how it will be if you have a good manager. One who believes in you.”

Thor gazes at him. His kohl-lined eyes pierce into Loki’s core, and the feeling is like nothing he has ever experienced. It’s like everything he always dreamed. Everything he could have ever hoped, writing desperate, aching letters into the darkness.

Thor stands before him, and Loki pushes down on his shoulders until Thor kneels before him. Hands he has watched in videos countless times come to rest on his waist, fingers splayed. Wrapping around the sharp angles of hipbones beneath denim.

There in the middle of the wreckage, Thor presses his brow against Loki’s abdomen, bowed as if in prayer. It is a chaste gesture, and it makes Loki’s blood burn hotter than his own sweatiest wet dreams of a month before.

Then Thor’s face turns upward. His eyes intense and staring back into his.

Loki buries his hands in Thor’s hair, feeling the softness of it.

“We will do great things together,” Loki murmurs, swept up in pleasure. “Just you wait.”

#thorki #my fic #spookyfic

27 notes · View notes

the-cosmos-withinus · 8 months

Text

Shadow Puppets AU - Father Josiah, General William and the Cult of Gravesfield

It is genuinely easier just to put a general warning for Triggering Topics than it would be to list them all. Just be wary.

-The original town of Gravesfield was founded by Father Josiah as an offshoot of the Protestant Church, blending their traditional belief system with Puritan practices independent of the Church of England -Unbeknownst to his followers, Josiah had actually been excommunicated which was why he started his own church. -Father Josiah kept in power by exploiting the faith of the Townsfolk, particularly children whom he abused and sexually assaulted. He targeted vulnerable families and extorted them with aide from the church, or blackmailing them into staying -Such as the case with Caleb when he tried to take Philip and leave after finding out what Josiah was doing to him by revealing he knew who the boys really were (Wittebane is not their real name among other things, I might make a full lore post about) and threatening to expose them to keep Caleb in line. -He has a partner in General William, the two are not exactly friends, but both keep quiet about the other's sins to not have their own exposed. William is a prolific serial murderer who largely targets young women for hanging under the guise of calling them Witches. -Part of their unspoken pact also included Josiah accusing people who spoke up against him of Witchcraft and turning them over to William -Father Josiah was the first to find the Collector's Tablet in the woods, but believed he was a Demon specifically one representing his sin against children, and has been trying to keep the Collector hidden and kill him (genuinely he thinks if he can kill this Shadow demon that he will no longer molest kids) -His crimes were not exposed until one day Astrophel (the Collector) intervened while he was abusing Philip, and almost killed him. Josiah tried to accuse Philip of Witchcraft and summoning a Demon, but Philip and the other kids that he abused came forward with what he had been doing to them -Despite being instrumental in getting him caught and brought to justice, Astrophel has regrets not actually killing Josiah himself and even Centuries later he's still not over it. -After Josiah was executed, the townsfolk Gravesfield tried to move on with life as normal but the town was struck by a series of tragedies, starting with the disappearance of the Wittebane brothers, eventually leading to them abandon the apparently cursed town -Some of them moved to other settlements, but others simply rebuilt the town, establishing new Gravesfield in 1636 where the disappearance of the Wittebane brothers was romanticized into local legend because the story of a younger brother trying to save his older brother from a Witches enchantment sounds so much better than the tragedy of Fayerweather family and other horrors of old Gravesfield _"Witch Hunter" General William, as previously stated, is a serial killer who masks his kills in the guise of protecting the Town of Gravesfield from Witches -He is secretly a half witch who's powers never developed, causing him to be outcast among the Demon Realm, rejecting and resenting his magical heritage -He first met Philip when the boy was eight years old after he had an encounter with a real demon, and saw potential in him, yet kept his distance because of Father Josiah's interest in Philip -When Josiah was exposed, William took it upon himself to declare the preacher had been possessed by a Demon and hung him himself -Caleb disappeared a few years after that, and when Philip was twelve, and he immediately went to General William and his team of Witch Hunters for help, all accompanied him on his quest to save his brother, but this was left out of the legend. -General William became a father figure to Philip when they first arrived in the Demon realm, with William taking him on as an apprentice for not just for Witch Hunting, but trying to shape him into a killer to carry on his legacy once they returned to Human Realm. -Centuries later, the uniforms of the Coven Scouts are very loosely based on Belos's memory of General Williams

#shadow puppets au #philip wittebane #toh collector #lore post #toh ocs #Father Josiah #General William

27 notes · View notes