#eldritch fic
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Hi! I'm Mike and I like to write silly quotes, skits, drabbles, and some fics!
mostly Modern Warfare for now lol
Mike_Like_T_Scream on AO3 (has a lot of my bigger fics on there plus some fics that aren't even on tumblr). Only registered users can see my works on there
Teen!Ghost Au fic/ficlet list
I don’t write x reader
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(maybe useful things below like tags)
Ships and how I feel about them (list has been added onto and some ratings have changed), smut nos
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Tags to help you navigate the blog:
#drabble for drabbles/ficlets/story ideas
#bootiful art <3 for art
#fic and #fanfic for fics or fic discussions
#thanks for the ask <3 for answered asks/prompts
#fic recommendations for fics I've read and liked
#teen!ghost au for teenager Ghost and adoptive father Price
#shadow company moose for the Shadow oc Moose
#cod oc for COD ocs including those that aren’t mine
#call of duty to avoid oc things
#eldritch fic for ‘I’m not Simon Riley I’m Ghost’ soapghost fic
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sticking to Shadow Company ocs or ocs that have some form of history with my ocs
Links I will open: TikTok, YouTube, Instagram
Some requests might not be written if it involves something I am not very familiar with or something that makes me uncomfortable. Spicy prompts will be posted to AO3 with a link provided.
@ me or a link on art and other things inspired by something made on here! I'll love to see it :)
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Ship names:
Faralex: Farah/Alex
Faralexgaz: Farah/Alex/Gaz
Nikpricegraves / Pricegravesnik: Price/Graves/Nik
Nikgraves: Nik/Graves
Valrudy: Valeria/Rudy
Valejandro: Valeria/Alejandro
Valerudy: Valeria/Rudy/Alejandro
#masterlist#master post#modern warfare#teen!ghost au#pricegravesnik#nikpricegraves#shadow company moose#cod oc#valerudy#call of duty#drabble#fic#fanfic#fic reccomendations#eldritch fic#incorrect quotes#bitter past au
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Hot sexy alien water goddesses in your area? Click here to meet them!!
(Its the link to my eldritch lions fic, also yes I am using the same joke as in the end notes, IT’S CALLED RECYCLING!)
#voltron lance#voltron fanfic#eldritch lions#eldritch fic#lance mcclain#gets possessed lmao#blue lion
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Title: I am creation both haunted and holy (made in glory)
Fandom: Hermitcraft (Vaguely Season 5-6)
Ship(s) Y/N: No
Centric Character(s): in pov of Xisuma, centered around Grian,
Centric Tag(s): Watcher Grian, Admin Xisuma,
Summary: Mumbo wasn't expecting to find some strange creature in his testing world... so he sends Xisuma to check it out. This leads to some things being discovered.
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'You are so deliciously lonely'
@jonmartinweek Day 7
Eldritch Powers // Caretaking
I offer you Lonely Avatar Martin for this day, from arthureameslove wonderful fic: Like a Lighthouse, Call Me Home - it's really really good.
#occudo's art#tma fanart#jonathan sims#martin blackwood#fic rec#jonmartinweek 2024#day 7#eldritch powers
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Danny makes a nest
So Danny was visiting Dani in the ghost zone and they both get sucked through a portal and into another universe
At first, they look around searching for another natural portal but can't find one, (Fenton luck again)
After some trial by fire they figure out if they save up enough energy they can combine their ability and make a portal themselves
But like I said, they need energy for that lots of energy
So they build a nest, which helps store energy, and helps them rest and since this universe has a fair amount of ambient ectoplasm if they make the nest out of things that have ambient ectoplasm it can cut the time in half!
So dani and Danny start building their nest
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And JL are facing a problem
2 creatures are taking artifacts and spellbooks
They swoop in, take what they want and leave, they've tried stopping them but the creatures just ignore them
They are not often seen together but Constantine said they're very similar in structure and magic that they must be related
The odd part is they don't hurt anyone
They don't attack the JL members that try and stop them, they don't go after civilians and they only go after artifacts that contain death magic
The JL don't know what to make of it
Though they might have to up this on the priority list because when Bruce got home, Talia Al Ghul was their and the first thing she said was
"some creature took the lazerous pit"
#danny phantom#fic prompt#danny fenton#daily prompt#dc x dp#dp x dc#funny#dc#batman#talia al ghul#dani phantom#Danny steals the lazerous pit#Dani helps#The JL have no idea what to make of the 2 creatures stealing death mafic#Danny and dani become eldritch when they have to much energy#They have no idea
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you know what one of my favorite tropes is? forced identity reveal. and not just scenes where the villain will throw some poor civilian off a building if the Justice League doesn't stand up. I mean the kind where they're forced, through magic or powers or some sort of force, to reveal themselves.
Kryptonians are immediately identified in the crowd with kryptonite. Every Lantern hisses as their rings start to flare at the same time, glowing wildly on their hands. Glamours are forcibly dropped. Like that.
#also if someone could rec some fics with this so i don't have to write them myself#that would be awesome#i like to think there would be one to force bruce out too#need to think more about that#probably something eldritch-y#speedsters probably have an easily identifiable tell that can be used against them too#hmmm#justice league#jl#dc#dc comics#writing#bruce wayne#batman#superman#clark kent#kryptonians
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A twisty, spooky noodle boy.
For the one and only Things That Bleed, by @ghostly-cabbage @kkachis and @artistfingers
I am in love with SCP Danny’s design (cred goes to the aforementioned authors), glowing ribcages are my new favorite thing.
Also I need to remind ya’ll that this niche chunk of fic does not require knowledge from any of the fandoms (Alex Rider, Danny Phantom, SCP) since it was written to be accessible to anyone, so if you like any of the following: Found Family, Hidden Identities, Creepy Government Agencies and Eldritch Horror Danny, I highly recommend it ! The love and teamwork put into this story is truly incredible :]
#crosshatching go brrrrrrrr#illustration#dp#danny phantom#scp danny#eldrich horror#eldritch danny#danny phantom fanart#fic rec#things that bleed#phanart#phart#digital art#bunfish can art#alex rider#scp foundation#ttb
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Eldritch Nika!!! I’ve always been fascinated with this idea ever since reading those fics where Nika is a separate entity (that may or may not have a an agenda of his own) and slowly influences Luffy to being a facsimile of himself. The You are my Sunshine and At the Gallows… are my favorites of Luffy being… slightly off and uncanny due to Gear 5/Devil Fruit. And all those “Gear 5 at Marineford” fics where everyone is horrified at the reality bending he does (Time Moves Through You being my favorite) are fantastic and big inspiration.
#please read all of these they are fantastic#all of the Luffy is Nika fics are incredible and I have been lurking in those tags on ao3 they are so good#Time Moves Through You is a big favorite and totally not because the time travel trope is my favorite no sir no nepotism here hahaha#one piece#sun god nika#monkey d. luffy#eldritch#opart#op luffy#straw hat luffy#art#digital drawing#digital art#fanart
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Prompt:
It takes forever and a day for someone to notice, but after decades of crime fighting, the Justice League finally catches onto the fact that—-
Batman doesn’t seem to be aging. At all.
Sure there are some lines on his face but anybody with as many children as him would have them. And yes, he does complain of back pains every now and again, but he’s been doing that since the day the JLA first formed, so who knows.
Come to think of it, his gaggle of kids don’t seem to be a day over twenty-two either. None of them. Even Nightwing, who should be well into his fourties’ (fifties?? Sixties???) still looks exactly the same.
The JLA decide to investigate.
Which isn’t exactly the easiest thing to do, because it’s Gotham, and every single person in that godforsaken city is bloody insane as they come to find out. (With a side dish of plausible deniability to boot)
#the batfam is effectively immortal#cryptid batfamily#what are they?#nobody knows#but everyone in Gotham takes it in stride#the Wayne’s are Old Blood after all#eldritch horrors#gothic horror#jason todd#batfamily#batfam#bruce wayne#dick grayson#robin#tim drake#fic#Oracle#spoiler#Cassandra#Damian Wayne#Damian al ghul#red hood#Nightwing#Batman#red Robin#prompts#batdad#alfred pennyworth
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I’m not Simon Riley I’m Ghost: Chapter 16
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Soap POV
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Soap went to the room where he was supposed to stay in for this, now over, mission. He was frustrated, angry. How could he forget about Ghost's nature? Of course he doesn't care that humans might die! Soap sits on the bed, sighing. It didn't feel right to leave, not when the mission wasn't even completed. Abandoning it even when people's lives were at stake... Did Price agree to this?
Soap checks his phone, having gotten a message from Gaz.
:Are you alright? Heard something about a attack from Price:
Soap went to reply when an idea came to him. The church... A meeting place for the arms dealer's men... At least, that's maybe what it's being used for. He wonders what he could find there... Maybe something that could lead to Hiro Shizuma? Soap feels like he can't leave, not until something is done about Hiro Shizuma. People were in danger and he wasn't going to walk away.
Ghost won't help. He doesn't care what happens as long as he gets his next meal.
Soap made his decision. To everyone, it's a stupid one. But he feels like he has to or else a lot of people were going to die. Soap sends a text to Gaz as he leaves the room.
:I'm fine. I'll see you later:
He wasn't sure when 'later' would be, he wasn't even sure what would happen to him. As Soap made his way through the base, back straight as he walks with purpose, he can only think about what Ghost would do once he found out what Soap was doing. Though he planned to be off base by the time the beast disguised as a man made the discovery. Going by foot was his only option, and Soap was hoping Ghost didn’t figure out his plan and chase him down.
Getting off base in full gear and armed was easier than it should have been. All Soap did was tell the soldiers at the gate he was going out on his own and they just let him go. He wasn't going to complain, they made this a bit easier for him.
Soap liked to think he was good at navigating unfamiliar areas. He had to be with his line of work. It proved useful and he probably wouldn't have gotten back to the church as fast without that skill. The sun was just below the horizon so Soap was hoping the vampires wouldn't be too eager to greet him. He wasn't sure about that tiger thing, though, or if it followed the same rules as them. Soap was cautious as he made him way towards the church, looking over his shoulder and in every dark place he passed.
He's been in dangerous situations like this before, but this had to be the first time he moved as prey and not predator. The street lights were humming quietly as he got closer to the church and anything louder than that made Soap flinch. The tiger thing had rushed him, cornered him, all with abnormal silence for something so large. He would like to no have a repeat of that.
Soap had never felt so uneasy outside of a church. It was ominous, truly.
Need to get inside…
The chances of something worth note being left behind was slim, but it was their original plan to start here before everything happened. There had to be something, anything. Just enough to get a lead, something the DGSE or Ghost couldn’t ignore. Ghost said this wasn’t a human matter, but Soap never liked sitting when something o big was happening in front of him. He was a good soldier though he had a temper… and right now Ghost was the target.
Soap felt betrayed. It was a dumb feeling considering everything Ghost was. He hunted and killed humans, he was in 141 because it was a free meal ticket, the perfect cover with someone covering up his tracks. Soap knew all this yet he let his attraction blind him. He wanted Ghost to be the lieutenant that he had originally met. He wanted Ghost to continue being that brave man who did a hell of a job taking out problems and saving lives. But he never was that, it was all an illusion, a mask to keep him hidden so he could keep getting food without drawing attention.
The church was locked up tight, every window and door heavily secured. Not something that every abandoned building had. There was definitely something going on here. The monsters that attacked them and now the secured building, it all pointed to the fact that something had to be here. Soap circles the church again and stops when he notices something covered up by a tarp. A swift tug and a cellar door was revealed.
A padlock? There’s my way in.
Soap always kept a set of lock picks on him for this reason. It would be quicker to just break the lock but he didn’t want to risk making too much noise, so picking the lock it is. Soap fumbled with the lock, and soon he was rewarded with a satisfying click. Soap removes the lock and goes to open the cellar, freezing when he hears something behind him. A slight breeze, very light footsteps—
“Fuck-“
#i’m not simon riley i’m ghost#eldritch simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#fic#also on ao3#soapghost#ghostsoap#long post#call of duty#modern warfare#eldritch fic
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☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 3 ]
{☆} characters neuvillette, wriothesley, furina
{☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader
{☆} warnings none
{☆} word count 1.9k
{☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ]
Wriothesley was not a man of superstition. He did not kneel at the altars until his knees bled, he did not pray until his voice gave out– he did not, contrary to popular belief, suffer divine punishment for his apparent lack of respect.
After all, what Divine would look so deep beneath the waves just for a glimpse of the sinners that inhabit it?
Not them, evidently.
He hadn't slept in the past four days, though. There was a heavy air of something where ever he walked– it followed him like a thick fog, lingering and choking him until it dragged him to his knees like a chain. His thoughts inevitably linger on the striking, extravagant letter so conveniently adorning his desk at the fortress– the broken wax seal, the letter tucked into his pocket.
He'd recognize the seal of the Iudex any day. Wasn't often he spoke to him– but the shaky, distorted words hastily etched into the paper made him pause. Neuvillette always had a steady hand– elegant, flowing script that him of flowing water.
It had kept him up for days.
The implications were..haunting. He'd poured over the letter for hours, illuminated only by faint light of his desk lamp. Yet no matter how many times he tries to see what must be hidden beneath the ink, the paper itself even, he finds nothing but the shaky script of a request that sends a bolt of pure frost through his veins.
He noticed, of course, the odd goings on of Fontaine. He'd heard vague whispers of the Divine's hunt for the imposter– he'd heard, too, of the ceaseless rain pelting Fontaine until even he wondered if the nation would finally sink beneath the waves.
It didn't, though. And that only made it all the more odd. Days of constant rain, just for it to stop suddenly..he tugged his coat tighter around him, throwing up the hood of the cloak clasped even tighter over it with a grunt as he leaned around the corner of the alleyway.
He didn't believe in superstition, but this was too hard to ignore as a simple weather anomaly.
Maybe that was why he ignored his gut– he knew that this was probably a trap, at the very least it was suspicious. But damn it, he couldn't ignore the instinct to follow the only lead he had.
His boots clicked against the rain stricken streets as he stalked through the shadows, mindful of the clinking of machine patrols just a few streets away. Yet every step felt heavier then the last as he took a long, good look at the Palais Mermonia. He almost considered bringing out his gauntlets, but he thought better of it– if it came down to it, he needed information. And he would need whoever was waiting for him alive for that– the dead don't speak and all that.
The letter's directions led him in a..rather roundabout entrance to a secluded room, evidently, as he lifted his hand and quietly knocked against the door. Two rapid knocks, pause, another knock, pause, four knocks. It doesn't take long until he hears the latch of the door unlock.
The leather of his gloves creaks as he clenches his fists, adjusting his stance. He's ready for a fight, if he must, but as the door quietly slides open he feel the weight on his shoulders relax slightly– the familiar, sharp features of Neuvillette meets him. He almost reflexively smiles at the way his pupils turn into thin slits, a momentary surprise that he quickly hides well behind a cough and the creak of the door as he pulls it open fully.
"Wriothesley. I see my letter has found you well. Please, come in." Polite as ever, Neuvillette steps aside to let him in, but he can see the exhaustion lining his features– the bags under his eyes aren't as well hidden as he thinks, at least to him. "Bit odd to be inviting me all the way out here in the middle of the night, don't you think?"
His tone is smooth as he steps into the room, brushing down his hood and glancing at Neuvillette over his shoulder, watching as he shuts and locks the door behind him.
"I apologize for the..less then ideal circumstances, but I'm certain you will understand when you see for yourself." He wants to retort, but the Iudex beats him to it, vaguely motioning to the room behind him. An invitation– but he wonders if it's worth taking.
His gut says no, but he's feeling a little risky today, he supposes.
He turns back slowly, barely able to make out the two figures he'd missed on the first glance on the other side of the room– though it's hard to mistake the flourish of the Hydro Archon, even in the dark. It's the other figure that makes the breath hitch in his throat, though.
Or maybe, more accurately, it freezes. So does his blood, his whole body even, locked in stasis for a long, tense moment– he can't see them clearly, but his instincts are going haywire. He can feel his vision almost rattle where it rests against his left shoulder, cold leaking through the layers of clothes and into his skin until he has to fight to suppress a shiver.
He'd always fancied himself the hunter– he was the one who dealt with unsavory folks, in the end. But he felt like a rabbit pinned beneath the crosshairs of a gun this time. He could almost feel the teeth of the bear trap snapping shut around him, crushing bone and flesh beneath cold metal.
For a long moment he thinks he feels fear.
And with a sharp click and a burst of light, it's gone and he takes a raspy, choked breath as he blinks away the blurriness in his vision, taking in the room illuminated by the lamp.
He's not sure what he sees is better, though.
Because his body knows that their Divinity is as real as the blood running through his veins.
So why do they remind him so much of himself? Why does he see the look of the boy who died in a pool of blood not his own in them?
It is a sick, cruel kind of familiar.
Wriothesley didn't believe in superstition– but that was born of the unknown. He knew, now. He could reach out and touch the truth with his own two hands.
The throne of the world was a lie.
The thing sitting on it bled red. And if it bled, it could die.
He clenched his fists tighter– and released, letting his shoulders slump with a huff and a half hearted chuckle. "I wasn't expecting you to be in possession of a wanted criminal when you sent me that letter." He could see the gears whirring in their heads, the subtle dampness in the air reminding him just how delicate a situation it truly was.
He wasn't particularly inclined to getting blasted by a jet of water today.
"Relax, I'm not going to spill to anyone else. Seriously– don't get my jacket wet. It's expensive and a nightmare to dry." His lips quirk into a half smile, but it twists into something almost genuine at the laugh covered up by a cough he hears from the Divine. Bingo.
"It's fine, Neuvillette. Let him go." Their voice is like honey dripping from their lips, and he has to close his jaw with his hand before they can see the way it dropped in his surprise. "Of course, most Divine. My apologies." He relaxes at the sharp click of his heels as he joins them on the bed, his posture far more relaxed then he's ever seen. The Hydro Archon, much to his confusion and amusement, is far too invested in playing with their hair to pay much attention to him now that things have calmed, evidently.
Huh.
They seemed pretty cozy about it, he noted. He guesses they three of them had some time to get acquainted.
"So..who's going to explain what the hell is going on?" He probed, crossing his arms over his chest and watching the three carefully– they all looked tired, but even through the exhaustion neither seemed inclined to stray too far from the Divine. "And what exactly your plan is? You can't keep hiding them here forever. Someone will sniff them out sooner or later."
"We are aware," Neuvillette interjects, lips pursed into a thin line and his thin brows furrowed. "But as I'm sure you've noticed, the hunt for the..forgive me, most Divine, but the hunt for the alleged imposter is still at it's peak."
He grumbles in acknowledgment, hanging up his cloak by the door and sliding out of his heavy coat, resting it over the back of a nearby chair. "Hm. Suppose that's why the patrols are so common now a days."
"I'm afraid so. As you can imagine, we cannot simply ask them to..stop the search. It would draw unwanted attention and suspicion. The Divine would be found immediately if we tried to bring them out of the city at the moment." Neuvillette added, looking proper and elegant, despite the circumstances– even in the face of the Divine and the Archon turning on him and tugging his hair into intricate braids. "So I hope you understand that it was a great risk to send you that letter."
He rubs his chin, huffing in amusement– a solid plan, maybe, but his power didn't extend too far out of the Fortress. He had his connections, sure, but what use were they when he had to get the, uh, "imposter" out of Fontaine? Smuggling them out wouldn't be easy, and then there's the point of where to take them they'd have to contend with.
"Yeah, yeah– I get it. But it's not like I can just smuggle them out or keep them in the fortress. Even if we got them out of the city, we'd have to find somewhere to bunker down, and if someone spots any of us lingering there.." Archons, what a mess he'd gotten himself into. He was really looking forward to the next time he could kick his feet up with a cup of tea.
"I understand. I have already made plans, in fact." Neuvillette hesitates, and he can feel the temperature drops a few degrees. "I..cannot share them in full at the moment, but it is not for a lack of trust." Neuvillette reasoned, hands folded neatly in his lap– not that it hid the way they shook slightly. He wanted to ask, but he thought better of it.
"Eh, I don't hold it against you. The walls have ears, even up here." He deflected, running a hand through his hair. He really hoped Sigewinne wouldn't ask too much when he gets back. "I trust your judgment." He hesitates for a long moment, pulling out a simple, neatly folded letter of his own.
"Memorize the code words, then burn it. I'll be waiting for your next letter." He murmurs, plucking his coat and cloak and tugging them back on one after another, shuffling back over to the latched door. He hesitates again, his hand lingering on the door.
"I just hope your plan is worth the risk, Neuvillette."
He leaves before he can respond, the harsh click of the door ringing in his ears even as he steps back into the shadows of the night.
#sagau#genshin sagau#self aware genshin#genshin impact sagau#self aware genshin impact#imposter au#genshin cult au#genshin impact cult au#furina#neuvillette#wriothesley#furina in the back just awkwardly sitting there bc she aint fighting wrio KHSDKHFKHJ#she was there for his trial when he killed two adults as a CHILD shes not fighting the adult version no ty#also writing reader to be as lowkey eldritch horror as possible. they r just playing nice rn but :)#reader collecting fontaine chars like pokemon cards#anyway wow i wonder what his plan is...wonder who it is he's involved besides wrio.......haha#cough cough#:]#looks at my other fics. haha.........ha....#anyway#slowly bringing in the key players one by one but it's probably gonna be in multiples now#if u guess correctly who neuvi is making plans w u get a lopsided gold star sticker that says “good job!” :]#i promise the lore will make sense soon (it wont im making it up as i go along)#if u see any typos no u didnt#zzzzzzzzzzzz gn#fic tag
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thinking about that meta about the endless not really transforming into different forms but rather being all forms simultaneously and just being perceived differently from different points of view. and yeah
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"So, Death was telling me something interesting about you yesterday," Hob says, sipping on his coffee.
Dream pouts, though he would probably deny that that's what it is. "You are gossiping with my sister behind my back?"
"You know we talk."
"Gossip," Dream mutters again, steps taking on a pace adjacent to an irritable trudge. "What unseemly things does she say about me?"
"Why do you think she says mean things about you?"
"Every time we speak, she calls me an idiot," Dream says, and Hob lets out a startled laugh.
"That's what siblings do," Hob reminds him. "You know she loves you."
"Hmm." Dream plucks Hob's coffee from his hand, taking a ponderous sip. "What praises does she heap upon me, then?"
Hob shakes his head in fond exasperation. "She says that you -- Endless, that is -- can like... change your appearance for different people? Or creatures? Like. If you met a cat you would appear as a cat to them?"
"You do not quite have the right of it," Dream says. He hasn't returned Hob's coffee, despite having insisted that he 'did not require mortal sustenance' when Hob had offered to get him his own.
"What's the right of it, then?"
"It is not for human minds to comprehend."
Hob groans. "At least humor me and try to explain? Do you turn into a cat or not?"
"I do not turn into anything," Dream says, offended. "How base and common."
"Shapeshifting is base and common, I'll make sure to tell all the shapeshifters I know," Hob tells him seriously.
Dream lets out a sigh that Hob recognizes as meaning fine, I will answer your inane questioning about the nature of my existence. The funny thing is, now that they've gotten over the six hundred year barrier of what's your name and what do you do for work, Dream delights in talking about his creations. He will speak at length about his work given half a chance.
It's the personal -- whether that's something as mundane as how he takes his tea or as fundamental as what an Endless even is, exactly -- that's been hard to get at.
"I am a cat," Dream explains.
Hob stares at him, looking up and down at the very man-shaped figure walking beside him as if he needs to double-check. "You're definitely not a cat."
"Yes, I am," Dream says. He does not appear to be joking.
And apparently Hob is still thirteen years old all these centuries later, because he says, "Prove it."
"You cannot see it because you are not a cat," Dream sighs, as if this is truly a tragic occurrence.
"Maybe I am a cat," Hob suggests, tucking his hands in his pockets, all casual. "How would you know?"
Dream gives him a sidelong look. "You are not a cat. Though perhaps you would be more peaceful as one."
"Doubt it. But wait, so, if I was a cat I would be able to see your cat form?"
"In essence, yes. But. You speak as if I would be donning a coat. These are not forms. Merely fragments. Simultaneous angles on a whole."
"Fragments," Hob repeats. He works it through like a particularly hard math problem. "Hang on. So. You're also a cat now. If we met a cat they would see a cat."
Fuck, this is getting weird.
Dream looks proud of Hob for getting it. "Yes."
"Could have attempted to explain that instead of just saying I am a cat," Hob tells him. "I also still maintain that you are not actually a cat."
"I am as much a cat as I am a human," Dream says.
"So, not," Hob says.
"No," Dream agrees. "Because I am Dream."
"You're a nightmare, is what you are," Hob mutters, and Dream smirks.
"That, too."
They've been walking in silence for another few minutes when Hob asks, "What's your real form?"
Dream frowns. "All of my forms are real, Hob."
"Sure, you look like this or that to different people. What do you look like to yourself?"
"All of my forms are real," Dream insists.
"So what I'm seeing now isn't some kind of default? Are you just always different? Is this like that we don't know how other people see colors 'cuz everyone's eyes could be different thing? Or is there any internal consistency to you?"
"I don't know what thing you're referring to."
"What I'm trying to find out is did I invent this version of you in my head?" Hob asks, getting stressed about it now. Did his subconscious somehow decide this was what Dream should look like? Presumably Dream knows what he looks like to Hob. What if he doesn't like it? "Did I just decide yep that's what dreams should look like in 1389 and you've been stuck wearing black ever since?"
Dream chuckles. Probably amused Hob would ever think he had that much power. "No. There is what you call internal consistency in my appearance. Different creatures, cultures, and so on will see different aspects of me, but there is not a different aspect for each person. It is not infinite."
Oh, thank god. "So, you want to look this way."
"I suppose."
Never a straight answer with him.
"Well, just for the record," Hob says, "I fell in love with the entity but I happen to quite like the shape as well."
"The shape," Dream repeats, with a smile.
"Here's where you're going to tell me you're also a triangle or something."
Dream is silent.
Fucking hell.
"I'm not even going to ask," Hob decides, forcibly moving on. "I have another question."
"You have many," Dream observes.
"That's what you love about me," Hob says, and Dream tilts his head as if conceding the point.
"If there was a human culture that thought of dreams as represented by cats," Hob starts, "they might see you as a cat?"
Dream sips at Hob's coffee, considering. "I suppose."
"And was there ever one?"
"No."
Hob lets out a long breath. Dream is frustrating as hell to talk to sometimes, but Hob can't say he doesn't enjoy it anyway, doesn't enjoy the puzzle. "Was there ever any culture like that, though? That saw their dream representation as something other than a person?"
"There was one that thought dreams lived in bubbles, therefore I was the reflection of light along a bubble's curve," Dream says, expressionlessly. As if that isn't wild and fascinating. "However, that civilization has since disbanded and morphed into different forms."
"Which civilization was that?"
"You would not know it," Dream says.
Hob tips his head back and groans. "God, you're like an edgy teenager who knew that indie band before they were cool. Oh, which band? No, you wouldn't know them, they're too niche, too underground."
"Underwater," says Dream. "It was a civilization of dolphins."
Hob trips over a crack in the road and just manages to catch himself. Dream stops by his side, watching him with some concern, like he worries Hob might break himself in his clumsiness.
"The way the world looks to you must be insane," Hob says, staring at Dream.
Dream's lips tip up in the faintest smile. "Human perspective is narrow."
"Clearly. I wish I could see all your other forms. Must be amazing."
"You wish to see them?" Dream sounds surprised.
Hob scoffs. "Of course. But it's not sounding very possible."
Dream inclines his head in agreement.
Then a thought occurs. "Wait." And god, Hob has said a lot of stupid-sounding things in his life but this is about to be one of the worst. "If I pretend to be a cat, can I see your cat form?"
Dream can never answer a simple question directly, but apparently this absurd query is fine. "I suppose it is possible in theory for you to see it. But pretending is not enough. You would have to wholly assume the perspective of a cat. I do not know if it would be possible in practice."
Hob's never needed much more encouragement than that to try something. "Alright. Hold my coffee."
"I am already holding it," Dream points out.
"Hush. I'm being a cat."
How he's supposed to do that, Hob doesn't know. He paces back and forth before Dream, squinting in the sunlight. He looks at him from every angle. He tries to imagine what cats might dream of. Mice? Freedom? Sleeping in warm places? Their dreams must be feeling and instinct-driven, not intellectual.
Hob crouches down, looking up at Dream from as close to a cat's height as he can manage. Dream merely raises an eyebrow.
"Are you going to meow at me?" he asks mildly.
"Meow," Hob says, and Dream's mouth pops open in a round o of surprise that is one hundred percent worth the indignity of kneeling on a public street and meowing. "What do cats dream about, anyway?"
"World domination," Dream says solemnly.
"Haha," Hob says, but Dream doesn't take it back.
"Alright, I'm channeling megalomania," Hob tells him, shutting his eyes. "I'm channeling my inner despot."
"And an imposing one at that," Dream observes, looking down at him.
"Quiet, subject, can't you see I'm in the middle of ruling with an iron fist? Or paw?"
"I am quaking in my boots," Dream says. "Please, show mercy."
Hob squints back up at him. God, he's really trying, but it's hard. Cats live close to humans, but they are still so alien. Off in their own worlds, their own battles and hierarchies.
"Will it work if I lick you?" he asks. "Like how cats groom each other."
Dream blinks at him, once, twice, slowly, catlike, which he must be doing intentionally, because he's a bastard like that. "This is, as I believe you would say, getting odd."
Yeah, it is getting fucking odd.
"Perhaps you should try imagining my female form," Dream suggests, and if Hob weren't already on all fours on the sidewalk he'd have fallen over. "It is human, and may be easier."
"You have that?" Hob squeaks, scrambling back to his feet. "But I thought it was like, a species perspective thing? Do women just see you as a woman, then?" Then he shakes his head. "No, that's way too simplistic."
"Women can see me like this as well," Dream says. "Or however their culture dictates."
"So why would someone see you as one gender or another, then? Just a culture thing? Preference?"
"Why do some people see God as a woman?" Dream asks the air.
Hob groans. "You are impossible."
Dream smirks.
"Or maybe you just like being unknowable," Hob guesses.
"Perhaps."
"Perhaps. Yeah, perhaps. I'm sure." Hob cracks his knuckles. "Alright, my unknowable cosmic entity of a significant other, let's see if I can turn you into a woman."
Dream stares at him flatly, but Hob can see the slightest uptick at the corner of his mouth.
Hob still doesn't know what exact perspective he needs to see Dream as a woman. Maybe if he just believes really really hard he can make it happen. Force of will. It's how he'd always planned to make himself immortal, anyway, absent a fortunate encounter with one prickly dream entity.
He stops looking at Dream, and tries to look through Dream. Tries to imagine how it feels to see the true depths of his eyes, how the cosmos in them go straight to infinity. He tries to see around the way the light reflects off of and shapes Dream's form to the shape within, like a sculptor seeing the body in the marble before it's carved. Hob is no artist, but he tries.
And he knows Dream. He may not know all these angles on his form, but he knows Dream, the entity, the person. They have had a long friendship, Hob and the concept of dreaming.
And just like that, the perspective shifts. For a split second, Hob sees an infinity before him, the eternity of all existence condensed in all its brilliant, glowing facets--then his brain skids around it to avoid going mad, latches onto an angle, and slams back to earth.
Hob sways, rubs at his eyes, and then laughs hysterically. "Fuck!"
"Hob?" Dream sounds uncertain now. "Are you well?"
"I think I just glimpsed cosmic knowledge never meant for my mortal eyes, or whatever," Hob tells him, somewhat maniacally. His ears are kind of ringing, eyes swimming in the afterimages of a very bright light. "You're incredible, do you know that?"
"As you judge," Dream says.
Hob finally drops his hands from his eyes.
And immediately slaps them over his mouth, letting out a sound so high-pitched and manic he hadn't thought his vocal cords could manage it. "Holy shit."
Dream frowns. "Are you well?" he asks again. "Perhaps I should not have allowed--"
"I fucking did it," Hob whispers, mostly to himself. "Oh my God. You're a woman. I think? You look like one. I guess?"
Dream looks down at himself. Hob wonders what he sees--does he see what Hob sees? Or does he see the incomprehensible mass of everything that he truly is under the human trappings?
"Ah," he says, and presses a single fingertip to one of the breasts that he now has, prodding it curiously. "It appears that I am."
Okay, so he can see what Hob sees. Good to know.
"Yup," Hob says. He can't seem to steady himself whatsoever. "Yup, yup. You are."
"Impressive, Hob," Dream remarks, looking up at him again with a smirk. His jaw is narrower now, his lips plusher, but God, it's that same fucking smirk that drives Hob insane.
Hob wonders if Dream's female form is also bound by some limitations on appearance the way his usual form is. He hopes so, because it if turns out he managed to manifest Dream's tits to fit his own subconscious desires, he might just have to choose Death at last.
Hob still has his hands over his mouth. He makes himself drop them.
Dream frowns at his silence. "Are you not pleased?"
"I'm very shellshocked and reorienting my view of the universe," Hob tells him. "Also, you're very beautiful and it's just a lot all around."
That smirk again. Whatever minor amount of immunity Hob has developed over the centuries is obliterated by the new shape of him. "Ah."
"Ah," Hob echoes. "Can I kiss you?"
"You may."
Hob does so with his usual enthusiasm, perhaps more, as he does so love novelty. Dream tastes much the same, feels much the same to his hands, and yet not, like Hob's different perspective on him has altered the angle of his touch. Hob runs his hands indulgently over the softer curves of him, settling them on Dream's waist.
"Dear heart," he murmurs into Dream's mouth. "Most beautiful thing."
Dream makes a soft sound and rests his face against Hob's.
They stay there for a long moment, frozen in the middle of the sidewalk. Then Dream asks, "Would you have still kissed me if I was a cat?"
"On your little furry head, yes," Hob says, and pecks his cheek. "I thought you were a cat."
"I am," Dream says.
Hob groans. "Enough, I'm getting confused again. Let's stop with the metaphysics and go home and do something less headache-inducing."
"Like playing with the new toy you've found yourself?" Dream asks, raising an eyebrow, but obligingly lets Hob wrap an arm around his waist and tug him along down the sidewalk.
"Pretty much!" Hob agrees. "If you're amenable."
"I suppose I can bear it," Dream says solemnly, as though being kissed and coddled and worshiped is the greatest hardship of his eons-long existence.
Then he says, quietly, "You are singular, to perceive me thus."
"As..." Hob looks at him as they walk, looks at the elegant cut of Dream's cheekbone and the sweep of his eyelashes, the longer fall of his hair. "You mean, in more than one... facet?"
Dream nods. "You... see me. The truth of me. And still, you look upon me kindly."
"What other way is there to look at the one you've loved your whole life?" Hob asks, throat tight.
Dream leans into his side, and Hob presses a kiss to his temple, holding there for several steps. And he continues to hold him close as they go on, keeps his unfathomable boundless entity within the circle of his arms, where he can keep on fathoming him.
#really a toss up what's making hob lose his mind more. the eldritch vision of dreaming as a concept? or dream's tits?#listen he's a simple man#a simple and very bisexual man#dreamling#dreamling fic#dream of the endless#hob gadling#my writing
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Eldritch Danny/Eldritch Ancients reveal idea.
Danny starting to vaguely realize he's different form the type of halfa Vlad is, that he's getting powers so much faster and that he's not really aging, that he's getting different traits not normal ghost ones.
Frostbite kinda hinting this is different but not really saying anything, Clockwork assuring him this is fine but not explaining stuff telling him that knowing is not dangerous but undoable.
Danny wanting to press but getting odd sense that getting an answer would change things and a sense of foreboding when he asks so had been sort of ignoring it. When stuff gets to weird for ghost stuff sort of hiding it and going to frostbite or CW for answers.
He tried showing Sam, Tucker one time but they got really bad headaches and it seemed to mess with them a bit so he noped out of there. Sam and Tucker deciding just weirder then normal ghost stuff, though they can tell that's a bit off. Jazz knowing somethings up but also ghost stuff is weird... though she's suspecting that ghost stuff isn't really the right term, but if what she suspects is a thing is a thing she's not to sure what that would even mean.
So Danny's trying not to thin about to much, none of them are... until they're in English class and the topic is horror Mr Lancer announces syllabus is changing because classic horror and ghosts don't seem like a great topic to do and instead they're going to do cosmic horror.
Danny just sitting and listening about cosmic horror and eldritch entities and slow realizing creeping in, reading the pieces and just sitting in English class when he realizes he's not half ghost or half human, not even full ghost he's beyond that.
That Frostbite calling him great one is the same as ancient one.
That the ancients are more than ghosts... that he is to.
Just sitting in English class as the fabric of reality breaks a little as he realizes and fully becomes what he has been without knowing.
#danny phantom#dp#eldritch danny#au#fic prompt#the ancients are eldrtich beings#dp au#danny fenton#clockwork#dp lost time#frostbite
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MDNI. photo credit @ave661 — warnings: tentacle fucking, breeding kink, eldritch horror könig. 🐙
eldritch!könig who's very overprotective and easily jealous. he see's you talking to other sea god's, one's he'd forbid you from seeing in fear they'd flirt with you — or worse, take you with them.
so when he see's you over there, sitting by the shore, the sand beneath your toes and speaking to an ancient, powerful sea god, he feels his blood boiling. he drags you back from them, chanting out something incoherent and pushing you down against the sand in a cave.
sliding his thick, wet tentacles into you and forcing you to maintain eye contact and mutter his name through breathless moans. his eyes don't leave you; they're filled with red, an angry red as he continues to bury a thick, hard tentacle into your poor hole. he lives for your whines and mewls and how you beg him to cum, how you're under his control, under his gaze.
eldritch!könig who, oh so desperately, wishes to fill you with his babies. he's so possessive of you; his prized possession. putting a child in your stomach would scare off any other sea god's and creatures who got too close for his liking.
it takes a lot of convincing, but he has you breathless and panting for hours as he continues to slide each of his eight tentacles into you. he slides he first inside, letting it thrust in and out of your used pussy till he's satisfied and his suckers are drooling out potent, murky fluids. a substance staining your inner walls.
then, he pulls out, bringing it to your mouth to suck on and stiffle your needy sounds as he rubs another tentacle against your sensitive, overstimulated clit. his sweetheart beneath him just begging to cum. you're making yourself a mess, those glistening tears and puffy lips...
he eases one inside before pulling away, your eldritch using your body for his own pleasure until the sun rises over the horizon. that golden glow over your body, and those precious tits. he couldn't help himself from toying and playing with them, preparing you to take his cock instead this time.
and, he's so ruthless with you. yet, his words are so loving that you're a babbling mess by the time he's finished. slapping his thick, heavy shaft against your stomach and kissing your lips softly before easing the tip inside, fully pushing himself in and groaning out a string of german curses as you tighten around him.
there's no stopping till he's completely satisfied and laying beside you wth his seed still oozing out your sloppy pussy. he'll push a tentacle inside and plug you, keep you safe and full beside him.
...
reblogs and comments appreciated.
#orla speaks#eldrich horror#eldrich horror konig#drives me insane#MFMFMFMDMMM#konig x you#konig x reader#cod konig#konig cod#konig mw2#konig call of duty#könig call of duty#könig cod#könig#könig mw2#könig x reader#könig fanfiction#eldritch#call of duty headcanons#call of duty fic#call of duty mw2
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I want Constantine to bitch slap amanda waller
So an unknown magical entity has been attacking and demolishing government labs and servers
There doesn't seem to be any connection between the attacks so the JL are confused
At first, they send in superman, but he can only get out that he works for the JL before the creature attacks him. He woke up 1 week later in Kansas, in civilian clothing and with a black eye
The worst part is he can't describe it in detail, the creature's form is constantly shifting and changing, one moment it was nothing more than a clump of limbs and organs the next it looked like a shadow brought to the 4D world, and the next it looks like a teenage boy, even his abilities can't get a proper read on it
So they keep sending JL members to try and deal with it while the creature just shows up, destroys the government building, and disappears
Eventually, they talk to Constantine about it and he comes to the conclusion that the entity for whatever reason sees the JL as its enemy when superman asked what it was john told them he's never seen something like this but its powerful, ancient and pissed off
so john (after promises of booze, repaid debts and a lot of favours) agrees to meet the creature and find out what it wants
What no one was expecting was for the creature to take Constantine with it when it disappeared
2 weeks later john shows up in a government meeting looking pissed
Before he can be questioned he struts up to amanda waller and slaps her out of her seat
:YOU PHYCO! BECAUSE OF YOUR FUCKING IDIOCY WE MIGHT HAVE A FUCKING WAR WITH THE INFINET REALMS!
After that, he steals her access card, teleports to the highest security facility and breaks something out
When the JL get there they see john profusely apologising
The creature was there in a much more...visible form holding a child...wearing clothing with experment numbers
#danny phantom#fic prompt#danny fenton#daily prompt#dc x dp#dp x dc#funny#dc#superman#eldritch danny#Dani captured by the goverment#Danny goes on a ramoage looking for her#Constantine it pissed#Amanda walled started and founds the GIW
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Random idea
Danny can open windows to other realties just fine but portals are another thing.
Naturally according portals are rare in the DC realties. Seeing each of the batfam in a battle of death not unlike his own Danny resolves to help. Dyeing and being brought back has side effects even if they pretend to not recognize them and Danny knows why. Trauma sucks.
So Danny as King of the Infinite Realms places a price on the soul of one John Constantine. He sorts out the hellish mess buying the contracts from each of them. It was not easy but none of them could officially claim his soul with so many wanting it.
That was how John Constantine was summoned to the Infinite realms because if one owns a soul then they can summon it to their home reality.
"I'd pay the Devil Twice as much to keep your soul." - I am a righteous hand of God- Danny choose to sing as the activation.
John was forced to find a scientist that could understand and build the ghost portal or be tormented with memes.
Was not Johns fault if the portal is too small for a human form and Danny had to take a much smaller animalistic form..
#dc x dp#dp x dc#danny phantom#dc comics#batman#danny fenton#fanfic writing prompt#batpham#eldritch little baby man#jazz fenton#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc fic#dp x dc prompt#dp x dc fanfic#batkids#red hood#redhood#dick grayson#nightwing#jason todd#barbara gordon#brain dead#tim drake x danny fenton#tucker danny phantom#oracle#oracle dc#ghost king danny#danny phantom fanfiction#tim drake wayne#tim drake
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