#Oracle Assignment Help

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[kartoshinki]

So I did some (internet) reading and turns out that the majority of my neuroticism and temperamentallity could very well just be ADHD

Which doesn't change anything but it sure is comforting to know that it's not some lack of effort or me being a bad person

And that keeping cool is genuinely harder for me than for many people who told me to do so

[rosemarydisaster]

This post inspired me to think about secret identity logistics and I think Cass being so cavalier with her secret identity would actually help. Like, it makes the rest of the family's secret identities better because Cassandra Cain is obviously Blackbat/Batgirl. By contrast they would look even more civilian and if someone is not going to realize their kid is a vigilante is Brucie Wayne.

"But wouldn't they connect the dots to the rest of the family?" Listen, If those were bats they'd simply get out of the kidnappings and hostage situations they get themselves into like Cassandra. The fact that they always need to be saved proves they're, indeed, civilians.

Also, I doubt the math would math unless you knew very specific internal things to connect each vigilante to their civilian identity. Brucie is, for starters, as civilian as can get and thanks to the Mandela effect everyone is convinced that he was caught on camera making out with Batman anyways. So that's a non-starter.

Dick Grayson is trying to be a regular person, so the public would know he exists and comes back to important things but he's mostly out of the public eye. Plus, he's a police officer, why would anyone assume he's in kahoots with his little sister that was adopted after he'd already left Gotham?? And when he came back to Gotham for a while to take care of things for his father, is not like there was a new vigilante. It was still batman and Robin (the Robin was new, but Dick Grayson is an adult so, not likely).

Then we get to the big one: Jason is legally dead. You can't assign him any vigilante because he's mmm super dead. I'm sure there's a true crime podcaster trying to argue that he was the second robin and died doing robin shit, that's why Batman and Bruce broke up. But even if it's compelling, it's also considered in really bad taste. Also, can't be tied to Cassandra because she arrived after his death.

Tim gets a similar reaction to Brucie in the sense that there's no way he is a vigilante. He's the immunocompromised Twink from Forbes "30 under 30". He's literally physically incapable of being a super hero due to both a lack of Muscles and a lack of time. That boy has to run an entire massive money making machine and, for all gothamites know, he may very well be asthmatic as well. Plus, he gets kidnapped like crazy. If he was a hero he would at least now how to avoid being put in those situations. They suspect he's covering for Cass though, since he's smart enough to realize his sister is freaking Batgirl.

This means that even if Cass is Batgirl they can't really trace Batman, Nightwing, Red Robin or Red hood back to the family (not to speak of Batwoman, Catwoman, Huntress, Batgirl a 1 and 2, Oracle or spoiler). So at this point why would you even try to connect the others? Clearly Cass is the exception, not the rule.

Like, sure, Duke did survive the Riddler ruling Gotham and if you put some effort, it wouldn't be impossible to tie him to the We Are Robin movement. But also ...is it because he's black? Is it because he's the only black person from Gotham you know of?? His sister is a vigilante, and he is black, so he must be the black vigilante of course (He would be the one making this comments in social media through his sock puppet accounts and the True Crime/conspiracy communities would be too scared to touch that one with a ten foot pole)

Damian is another one where I think Bruce would do what he can to protect him from the press (partially for his own good and partially because he's the opposite of media trained). Most of the info the tabloids would get is from people tangentially related to him. Like, sure, he does look a bit like the new robin, and his sister is Batgirl. But, unless you're one of the people claiming he's the lovechild of Bruce Wayne and Batman (test tube baby??? Batman trans???) it wouldn't make a lot of sense now, would it?

Like Cass is so fucking weird compared to the rest of her family's civilian identities it makes them look rock solid by comparison.

[stacy-fakename]

I’m sorry, but my type-a ass cannot be against the Rat Grinders. They’re essentially the kids that couldn’t get the special treatment from teachers and get by on stumbling through tests and happening to get an A without studying. The Rat Grinders feel less like people who cheated the system, and more like the kids who aren’t naturally gifted or lucky, and have to spends hours on end studying, doing extra homework and extra credit, losing their social lives and free time to catch up with the kids who can just breeze through it. Fig never went to a single class or did any homework but gets away with it because the coach, lunch lad, and vice principal are her dads, Kristin and Riz did literally the worst thing their respective class can do, Gorgug actively works to avoid using the main feature of his class whenever possible, Adaine became the Oracle through seemingly happenstance, and Fabian’s rich family bought his way into the extra curricular he’s now the captain of, and all of them skipped half of freshman year! Obviously we, the audience, know that they worked their asses off to get through school each year and to get where the are today. We know they earned every little good thing they have! Fig has worked so hard to become the rockstar she is! Kristin literally brought back a god! Riz in a supergenius detective! Gorgug is an incredible barbarian and artificer! Adaine works so hard to help all of her friends survive a toxic system! Fabian slaved away to earn his achievements himself instead of letting his father’s legacy be his identity! But think of it from an outside perspective, without all the knowledge that only the audience has! These random kids stumbled into three adventures that let them skip grinding for XP, got to miss half a year with no consequence, get special privileges and quests because they are related to or friends with the faculty, never do their assignments or go to class, became popular because of their privileges, and now randomly start spouting micro aggressions towards halflings? If I was one of the Rat Grinders, I’d be pissed off too! I’ve been both the gifted kid, seemingly effortlessly breezing through classes and befriending the entire faculty while secretly going through terrible struggle and stress, and the kid desperately trying to game my way through a system built to harm me while being furious at those who seem to thrive in it, and I can’t help but feel empathy for both. I don’t think the Rat Grinders are evil, cheating monsters who plan to destroy the Bad Kids out of spite. I think they’re just kids in a harmful toxic school system that have a lot of righteous anger at their lot in life, that has sadly been misdirected. Idk if this ramble made sense, sorry for the wall of text!

Edit:Introducing Ivy Embra, the first Rat Grinder to actually be antagonistic to anyone in any way! Also introducing Oisin Hakivar, a super nice guy who’s willing to take advantage of his generational wealth in order to help a fellow student! So the first Rat Grinder to actively be nice to someone too! He likely did something with the ice mephits, but he still seemed genuinely sympathetic and helpful to Adaine!

[aphroditelovesu]

What about a Yandad! Poseidon with his mortal/ demigod daughter??

❝ 🌊 — lady l: I got carried away and ended up writing a mini imagine. This is not canon and is based on the voices in my head lol, but I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! 💙

❝tw: threats and a slight yandere!Poseidon, but other than that, nothing else.

❝🌊pairing: platonic yandere!poseidon x daughter!reader.

❝word count: 683.

You grew up at Camp Half-Blood, surrounded by other demigods and learning to control your divine powers. Your relationship with Poseidon was complex; on the one hand, you benefited from his protection, but on the other, the shadow of prohibition hung over you. The sea god, your father, had a clear interest in your fate, and the other demigods couldn't help but feel the aura of power that surrounded you.

Your relationship with Percy Jackson, the already known hero and son of Poseidon, was a highlight. The two half-sibilings trained together, shared experiences, and supported each other in battles against monsters and other threats. The bond between them grew, consolidating a formidable partnership, feared by many enemies. Poseidon was more than pleased to see his two favorite children get along so well.

In the years that followed, Poseidon's presence in his daughter's life was constant. He guided you in training, sharing secrets of the seas and teaching you how to control your aquatic powers. As time passed, your abilities stood out among the rest. Poseidon's influence ensured that the instructors at camp also paid special attention to you, preparing you for even greater challenges. However, the constant gaze of the god of the sea also generated distrust among your fellow demigods, fueling rumors and jealousy.

Life at Camp Half-Blood wasn't easy. Monsters constantly threatened the perimeter, and quests were often assigned to the most skilled demigods. Poseidon, in turn, began to discreetly intervene in your life, providing help at crucial moments and ensuring you were one step ahead of impending dangers.

However, your relationship with the sea god was not just one of benefits. In dreams and visions, you began to receive cryptic messages and warnings from other gods and titans, warning you of the implications of being so close to Poseidon. A god can never be involved in his children's lives, well, the demigods children at least.

Tension between the gods grew as your bond with Poseidon deepened. Zeus, in particular, viewed the increasing influence his brother had over you with suspicion. The warnings from the other gods increased, and the shadows of destiny began to manifest themselves more clearly.

One night, during a vivid dream, Triton, the son of Poseidon with his wife and your half-brother, appeared before you. His eyes expressed concern as he warned of the consequences of ignoring divine warnings.

"Proximity to our father can bring blessings, but also curses," Triton said, his voice echoing like the waves of the sea.

Quests abroad became more dangerous, with more powerful monsters and mythological creatures challenging the demigods. Poseidon continued to intervene subtly, but now his help was under the scrutiny of the Olympian gods. Zeus, in his wrath, explicitly prohibited any divine intervention in your quests.

Once, during a battle against a colossal sea beast, you found yourself on the brink of defeat, your companions also injured. Desperate, you silently cried out for Poseidon's help. He responded, sending a furious wave to defeat the monster, but the price of this intervention was high. On Olympus, Zeus' anger became uncontrollable.

The situation reached a critical point when an oracle prophesied that the proximity between Poseidon and you would trigger a catastrophe that would affect not only the demigods, but the entire balance of the mythological world. The gods' prohibition on interfering in the lives of their children became an unbreakable decree.

Poseidon, however, didn't care one bit. You were his daughter and he would help you if he wanted.

[satyricplotter]

(suggestive, slightly explicit content at the end)

Even though you’ve been expecting the visit for most of the night, the Red Hood knocking at your balcony door at 1 in the morning still catches you off guard. You scramble off the couch in a sleepy daze, book falling off your lap and cracking open on the floor. For one long second, the only thing you can think of is that whoever your last assignment was has managed to find you, that you’ve finally been too sloppy and left a trail with which to track you.

That’s your first thought. Your second thought is, of course, Barbara. But before you can reach your phone to shoot your boss a SOS, or, at the very least, an alert, a second rasp at the window panes freezes you on the spot.

“Will you open the damn door?” Red Hood’s unmistakably robotic voice grits out. “It’s raining cats and dogs out here.”

You trip in your rush to open the doors, limbs loose and clumsy with relief. Hood shoulders past you with a grunt, fingers prodding at the back of his head to get at the latch of his helmet. He takes it off in a smooth motion, his hot breath forming a white cloud against the cold air of your running AC. You lock the balcony back up after him as he goes around your apartment, setting his helmet on your dinner table and shrugging out of his jacket. He means to stay apparently. You could’ve lent him an umbrella if he wanted to go back out there. Probably would’ve been best.

See, you don’t like the Red Hood much.

He invites himself over to your kitchen, opening cabinets here and there until he chances upon the dinnerware and pulls out a glass. The Gotham public infrastructure is in such state you have never once attempted to drink out of the tap, but you don’t stop him when he does. It is, technically, allowed. And he had the pitcher full of filtered water right under his nose, so. You wait impatiently as he downs two whole glasses of tap water and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand (there is a perfectly usable kitchen towel draped over the oven handle).

He glances over, notices you staring. The corner of his lips quirks up. “How obedient,” he mocks. He pats at his sides, pulls a folded envelope from somewhere in his body (the Bats have endless pockets, you’ve come to learn) and tosses it on the table. “There’s your file. You better be fucking thankful. Traipsed through half the city in this shit storm just to get you these.”

“Thank you, Red Hood,” you say politely, picking up the rumpled envelope and eagerly flipping through the files. “Much appreciated.”

Red Hood rolls his eyes at you, eternally put off by your insistence on following the proper channels of conduct. “Whatever. You got anything to eat?”

“Help yourself,” you tell him.

You walk back to the couch with the file in hand and leave him to make himself whatever he will, already too distracted by the information within to care that you’re gonna have to make a second grocery run when he’s done with your fridge. Red Hood rummages through your cabinets, pulling out far more stuff than he should for a midnight snack. At one point, he asks if you’ve had dinner, and you respond him with an absentminded (and truthful) negative. The files he’s brought are the latest Robin’s swiped from the team’s ongoing investigation on a dicey arms exchange deal that may or may not involve three out of four of Gotham’s biggest conglomerates (sans, of course, Wayne Enterprises). It’s your job to process the info—a task too menial and too tedious for Oracle and Red Robin, respectively, to handle. Besides, Tim’s far more useful on the ground.

It must be about twenty minutes of you pouring over the pages scattered over your coffee table when the man speaks up again. “Dinner’s ready,” he says.

You look up to see him setting two plates of steaming stir fry on the table. He’s taken off his gloves, his utility belt, the domino mask and rolled up his sleeves—the whole nine yards. Only missing the apron. The food looks lovely, but of course it does. Cooking is listed as a specialty in Red Hood’s file, right along with marksmanship and hostile takeovers.

Your lips quirk up at the unexpected kindness, but you shake your head. “None for me, thanks.”

“I said,” Red Hood says, placing his gun on the table menacingly. “Dinner’s ready. Come eat.”

Well. So much for kindness. You’re about as dumb as Red Hood’s subtle, which is to say only at your benefit and very much at will, so you only sigh and push the papers aside. He watches you rise and sit, and pick up the fork, before he does the same. You eat in silence.

After a few bites, you stop being disgruntled at his coercion and grateful that he’s got something other than a protein bar in you because you were, in fact, quite hungry. That’s not something you can say—or at least not in any way which he would accept, so you just shut up and eat your meal happily. That seems to be enough for him, as he watches you finish the whole plate with a satisfied expression.

“Good?” He asks.

“Yeah, actually,” you beam.

Even when he stands and brings the dishes over to the sink to wash, you are reluctant to leave your spot at the table. You watch him rinse and sponge the plates and pan, the knife and spoon and cutting board, and your afternoon tea mug. He washes his hands thoroughly and rinses his mouth with the dubious tap water again. A thorough, judicious man. He’s played remarkably nice this evening. You wonder if Oracle’s been pulling his ear to leave you alone.

When he finishes, he walks slowly the remainder of the narrow hallway of your kitchen back to the dinner table and leans against the threshold. The long line of his body catches you off guard, always so unexpectedly graceful despite his musculature, his brutality. You hold his gaze serenely, trying not to cave under his scrutiny.

This is why you don’t like the Red Hood. Every time he looks at you, he sees you wholly. As you are. Not, crucially, as you want. It has been this way since the first time he laid eyes on you—a single glance and he had taken the measure of you. No further explanation, no time to make amends. And what’s worse: he expects you to be honest. He expects you to say what he can read in your face. He doesn’t let it go when you deflect, when you coat your truths in niceties. He wants it raw and open.

You can’t play dumb with Jason Todd.

He breaks the silence first. “Were you expecting Grayson this evening?”

The non-sequitur catches you so off guard you break eye contact accidentally. What’s Nightwing got to do with anything?

“No?” You say, evidently baffled. “Nightwing’s been off-world all week. Why would he be coming around?”

He cocks his head to the side, sucks in the bit of flesh below his lower lip. "So you knew it was me who'd be coming around?"

"Obviously?" What is he going on about? He clearly doesn't believe you, either. It's childish when you stomp your foot and whine, but he always brings out the worst in you. "I'm serious, Hood. I've been waiting for you all evening. Just you."

Jason pushes off the wall and approaches, staring you down with slightly raised eyebrows. “Then, if you knew Dick wasn't coming with, what are you looking so fuckable for?”

Despite how much it bruises your pride, you cannot help but sputter. The staring is one thing, the passing brushes are another—even the stupid pulling at your pigtails like you’re both in kindergarten is… permissible. But this? Coming at you so straightforwardly when all you know how to do is circumvent and hide? Desperately, you respond to the one thing in that sentence you can make sense of: the accusation.

“I don’t like Nightwing,” you whine. Jason fixes you with a look of dry incredulity. You huff. How you despise him. He can’t even let you lie. “And I don’t dress for him either.”

“Hm.” He reaches over to pull at the neckline of your admittedly skimpy top, his knuckle brushing against your chest. “Sure.”

You bat his hand away, and stand up, but that leaves you much closer to him than you expected. Or wanted. “This is not fuckable,” you grit out. “This is… pajamas.”

Jason cranes his neck to take a close look at you, every bit as assessing as the first one had been. One of his large hands comes to play with the hem of your shorts, pushes it up just a smidge, and the pads of his fingers are rough and calloused against your outer thigh. Your eyelids flutter, and he has the nerve to smile.

“That’s a blatant lie, you know,” he says, dipping his head low so the words brush against your lips. “Try a little, huh?”

“This seems like a you problem, my guy,” you snap, so close you might as well be speaking into his mouth. You need to get away. You don’t.

Jason’s smug when you gasp after his hands close around your ass and bring you forward, flush against his body. The hardness in his pants trapped between you, a pressing weight just below where it should be. Should be? What are you—but Jason adjusts before you can scold yourself, lining up your crotch with his and grinding. It feels bigger this way, which is insane because it's already pretty fucking huge, and a hot flash of desire runs through you lightning-quick and just as obliterating. You slump against him, head on his shoulder.

“That’s my problem,” he murmurs against your ear. His thumbs press just under your asscheeks, playful. “You gon’ do anything about it?”

[theic-manic]

Tarot Hellenic Deity Communication Post that should probably be a book someday.

Hello, Feeling inspired by some other posts about Deity identification via tarot I wanted to tweak their ideas and add some additional strategies that help me. This is a devotional post to two of my patron Gods, Lord Apollon and Lord Hermes, who are assisting me with my Oracular duties. Praise Apollo and Hermes.

Post index:

My Background

Some notes about this post

The Major Arcana: Intro

The Major Arcana Deities

The Minor Arcana Part 1: How to incorporate the Minor Arcana

The Minor Arcana Part 2: The Suits

The Minor Arcana: Part 3: The Courts Pentacles Swords Wands Cups

The Minor Arcana part 4: Notable Pip Cards

A Note on Gender

A Note on Symbolism

What the Hermes? (important!)

Deity Communication troubleshooting

How to incorporate Shufflemancy as a Tarot reading clarifier (link to another post)

Notable sources (used in addition to my own knowledge & research) My background: I started Tarot at the age of 11 (2001) and own dozens of different tarot and oracle decks, my exposure to various interpretations over almost 2.5 decades has allowed me to appreciate the nuances in interpretations and even assigned deities. As such, while I do know the broader meanings of each card, I also check the interpretation provided by various deck creators as their own divine guidance adds to my work. E.g. The Tower in my Murder of Crows deck has a very different vibe to The Tower in my Gold Lyre tarot deck. I will be covering deck design nuance after the list of card deities. Some notes about this post: Firstly: I will only be listing Hellenic deities as I currently work with the Hellenic Gods and while I have worked with the Kemetic Gods briefly, I have a distant while cordial relationship with them. I had worked with the Norse Gods for 3-4 years prior to moving to my current locale, however I acknowledge that my time with them has passed (at least for now) and I want to limit this to one pantheon. Secondly: In some of the other posts that assign deities to tarot cards, I found it odd that they would assign say, Freyja to some cards but not Aphrodite, arguably Freyja's Greek counterpart. As such, I will be taking care to check that I don't miss any deities due to these overlaps however this means that some deities will be gaining more cards than typically assigned. Note that some of the Gods of other pantheons have multiple equivalents in the Hellenic Pantheon so in the case that occurs, I will do my best to select whichever one already has their Hellenic equivalent listed by other sources and in cases that hasn't occurred, I will select/assign whichever Hellenic God/s best fit the card.

Thirdly: I won't be assigning deities to each of the numbered minor arcana for a couple of reasons; 1. Not all decks have imagery for these cards except for literal pentacles, wands, swords or cups images 2. While I prefer the Rider-Waite approach to providing story images to these minor cards, said images can be distracting to one's intuition or may add to the confusion. However I will explain how to incorporate these cards into your readings to gain clarity, especially if you draw Major Arcana that can be assigned to a couple of potential deities.

Finally: I will be adding the concept of Shufflemancy at the very bottom. This is optional but I find that it can really add to a reading... however as an Apollo and Hermes devotee I am a tad biased.

If you find this post to be useful please share it so that others may find it.

The Tarot Cards:

Major Arcana

The Fool: Pan, Hermes, Dionysus, Apollo, Morpheus

The Magician: Hermes, Apollo, Empusai

The High Priestess: Hekate, Selene, Artemis, Persephone, Aphrodite, Medusa, Melinoe, Lamia, Empusai

The Empress: Aphrodite, Hera, Demeter, Lamia, Empusai The Emperor: Zeus, Ares, Hades, Apollo

The Hierophant: Apollo, Athena, Hermes

The Lovers: Aphrodite & Ares, Eros & Psyche, Dionysus, Pan, Hades & Persephone, Lamia, Empusai The Chariot: Helios, Apollo, Hermes, Ares, Nike, Athena, Lamia Strength: Athena, Artemis, Medusa The Hermit: Kronos, Prometheus, The Muses*, Hades, Hermes, Hekate * The Muses appearing may also be a more subtle Apollo sign, use surrounding cards to guide your interpretation here. Wheel of Fortune: The Moirai*, Zeus, Hermes, Tyche, Morpheus * The Moirai are the triplet daughters of Kronos & Nyx or Zeus & Themis depending on which lore you refer to. They were also on friendly terms with Apollo and worshipped with Apollo at a number of shrines & temples. As such, please check surrounding cards carefully to determine which Hellenic deity/ies this acts as a confirmation card for. I would not rely on this card alone to confirm a deity's presence. Also pay attention to card imagery & any notes from the deck creator in the accompanying booklet if applicable.

Justice: Zeus, Athena, Themis

The Hanged Man: Artemis, Prometheus, Demeter, Poseidon, Hermes, Morpheus

Death: Persephone, Thanatos, Hades, Hekate, Melinoe, Lamia, Empusai

Temperance: Artemis, Iris, Apollo, Hades.

The Devil: Dionysus, Pan, Ares,

The Tower: Ares, Demeter, Eris, Perses.

The Star: Aphrodite, Hermes, Nyx, Astrea

The Moon: Artemis, Hekate, Selene, Morpheus. Medusa, Melinoe, Lamia, Empusai

The Sun: Apollo, Helios, Brigid, Eos

Judgement: Persephone, Hades, Hephaestus, Metatron, Nemisis

The World: Hermes, Nike, Gaia, Kronos, Athena, Demeter, Arachne

The Minor Arcana:

Intro:

As mentioned at the beginning, I won't be assigning deities to every single minor arcana card however I will be assigning deities to the suits, court cards & a few notable numbered cards to assist with deity identification.

Part 1: The Suits

Wands: Ares, Apollo, Eros, Hermes*

Swords: Ares, Athena, Hades, Athena, Hermes* , Poseidon*

Pentacles: Gaia, Demeter, Hephaestus, Athena

Cups: Aphrodite, Hermes* *Refer to Part 2b

Part 2a: The Courts Pentacles:

Pages: Pan, The Muses, Apollo Knights: Athena, Artemis, Demeter Queens: Persephone. Gaia, Demeter Kings: Hades, Chiron, Pan Swords:

Pages: Athena, Nike, Arachne Knights: Athena, Hermes Queens: Hekate. Athena, Themis, Melinoe Kings: Hephaestus, Hermes

Wands:

Pages: Apollo, Artemis, Athena Knights: Apollo, Orpheus Queens: Aphrodite, Hestia Kings: Zeus, Ares, Apollo

Cups:

Pages: Aphrodite, Eros Knights: Aphrodite Queens: Hera Kings: Poseidon, Dionysus

Part 2b: Notable Pip cards (Ace-10) Certain Pip cards of the Minor Arcana have strong deity connections based on their traditional meanings. I will not be covering the meanings as there are enough books covering this.

Aces: Pentacles- Demeter, Gaia, Swords- Athena, Nike Wands- Pan, Aphrodite and/or Ares, Apollo Cups - Aphrodite, The Nesoi, Eros

9 of Pentacles: Persephone 10 of Pentacles: Hephaestus, Arachne

2 of Swords: Hekate 3 of Swords: Hermes 4 of Swords: Arachne 5 of Swords: Ares, Eris, Melinoe 7 of Swords: Hermes 8 of Swords: Athena, Eris, Arachne 10 of Swords: Poseidon

3 of Wands: Hermes 5 of Wands: Hephaestus 8 of Wands: Dionysus 10 of Wands: Hephaestus

2 of Cups: Hermes with the caduceus, this can also clarify a divine partnership (Hades & Persephone, Ares & Aphrodite etc.) 8 of Cups: Nereus, Melinoe 10 of cups: Nike

Part 3: How to incorporate the minor Arcana

Whenever I am reaching out to deities via Tarot I do this in two stages. Stage 1: Deity identification Stage 2: What they want me to know (this is when a structured spread would be appropriate or simply apply traditional interpretations to the cards). Stage 1: With Deity identification stage I am purely interested in identifying who is in my room/orbit/astral right now but as you likely picked up in the Major Arcana list, many deities share cards and this can become confusing, especially if you draw cards that share the same gods. Solution: Look at the minor Arcana cards and which deities they align with to clarify which God is likely reaching out to you either via direct correspondence or relationship. Examples: 1. Sometimes I will draw Major arcana that are typically associated with Hermes & Apollo (makes sense as they're my patron gods) however if I also draw some wands* then I will typically sense that it is more Apollo that is reaching out whereas if swords pop out, or the 2 of cups, then I am getting a Hermes vibe. (*8 of wands is the one wands card I'd assign to Hermes due to its meaning) 2. If I draw some cards assigned to Ares and another God but draw some cups minor Arcana, I will then lean towards this being Ares as cups are associated with Aphrodite. I then consider how the minor arcana + Major Arcana identifiers act as Deity aspect (or vibe) identifiers. E.g. Ares Major Arcana + Cups cards will likely indicate to me that I am getting Ares' softer side. However if I get Ares + Swords, then I am likely being shown his more traditional warlike nature. If I draw Wands cards, then this is typically aligning with some more passionate energy from Ares. And this is when I gather the cards, reshuffle and commence stage 2 where I am seeking what message/s the identified God/s would like me to know. Even when I draw Major arcana in these readings, I will stick to their traditional interpretations rather than deity correspondences. This assists in me receiving a clearer message.

A Note on Gender:

If you are using a gender themed deck (e.g. a Goddess tarot deck) this may make deity identification more challenging for you as you could potentially mistake the identify of a deity depending on the style of the deck. If however you are confident with interpreting tarot or just work with goddesses or gods, that's cool too. Deities sometimes may appear as a gender not typically assigned to them as they find this is an easier way for you to connect with them.

Pages & Knights are gender neutral, so take their pictorial representation with a grain of salt if that helps.

A note on Symbolism: Some decks may have symbols to help you better discern which deity is reaching out, especially with cards that share numerous gods so please pay attention to the illustrations of the major arcana in addition to the clarifying minor arcana cards. Certain themed decks may make this easier or more difficult however if like me you own many tarot decks then the deck you feel called to use is a sign in itself. E.g. Whenever I feel drawn to my Golden Lyre deck, I know that Apollo and Hermes are going to show up (& they do). If I feel drawn to my Vlad the Dracula, Diablo or another "dark" deck, this to me has Ares energy. Ultimately, much of this depends on your connection with the divine, how you best communicate (e.g. which clair-sense is strongest for you), your physical & mental health and ongoing practice with the Gods and honing your intuition.

What the Hermes?! Hermes wanted me to mention that if you see a lot of his cards (you likely noticed that he is associated with many tarot cards) this means either a) your deity has an urgent message that they need him to deliver to you, b) the deity reaching out does not have very good history with one of your patron gods so he is delivering their message to keep the peace or c) the deity is just not good at communicating via tarot (see below)

Deity communication troubleshooting:

The cards are a real mixed bag and/or nothing makes sense: You might be tired, hungry, dehydrated or just not ready to receive messages.

Some Gods take longer than others to "talk": Oracular deities and deities with a decent history with Oracles & the likes are very vocal through tarot for me whereas other deities aren't very good at communicating through tarot & perhaps another method would be best such as Shufflemancy, meditation, tea leaves, automatic writing or a range of other methods. E.g. Ares takes a while to talk to me through tarot and that's often because 1. Apollo is very loud & Ares likes to... give him space and 2. There appear to be some stories of Ares potentially having poor experiences with oracles, e.g. an Oracle allegedly directing the people of various places in southern Asia Minor or the likes to bind Ares' statue in chains and even an annual rite involving this to force him into being more peaceful...  The oracle promises that "thus will he become a peaceful deity for you, once he has driven the enemy horde far from your country, and he will give rise to prosperity much prayed for." Wikipedia I'll admit my ignorance with much of Greek mythology however upon learning more about Ares' history with Apollo and certain Oracle cults I have learned to be more understanding of him taking longer to communicate this way. Even writing this & feeling my back hurt I can sense Ares' disapproval of Hermes & Apollo guiding me to write this post.

How to incorporate Shufflemancy as a Tarot reading clarifier:

Notable sources (used in addition to my own knowledge & research): https://backyardbanshee.com/tarot/deities-associated-with-tarot-cards/

Updates made July 14 2024:

I have started to add the lesser-known deities such as Medua, Lamia, Empusai, Arachne and Melinoe and will slowly add the others. Please comment or DM any Hellenic deity or spirit requests to be added.

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 10

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 9, Part 11

This chapter has sensitive topics! This time it's less on the religious side and more on the general awful shit that happens. It's specifically about a child (and adults) so you are warned!

Sunlight streams through the flap in the tent waking you up. Crawling out of the tent a gift laid in front sparkling for your attention.

A rough and raw cut Cor Lapis innocently sat where the hatchling used to be. Fingertips gently caressed the object before you stashed it away. Another item to be sold if you came upon hard times.

After packing up everything and eating a light breakfast you began the trek to Liyue. Activating and using that teleport waypoint would be so much easier but the suspicion you would get from it was just not worth it.

Farmers, hikers, and the occasional adventurer passed by as you hiked and eventually got to the Guild. Katheryne spots you and smiles.

"Ad astra abyssosque! Welcome to the Adventurers' Guild. Ready to start your first set of commissions Y/N?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." You mutter as you take the paper from her hands. Moving to the side, more adventurers are welcomed and assigned commissions. Fingers crossed for easy commissions, you scanned the list and the corresponding map.

Straight to the Heart - Qingxin must be freshly picked to be made into effective medicine. Pick it off the mountain and get it to the caretaker within the time limit. Enemies may be in the area.

Full Speed Ahead - The path is needed for a transportation vehicle moving people. Make sure the path is clear within the time limit. Defeating enemies may be necessary.

Increasing Danger - Hilichurls are building towers in the circled area. Destroy these towers for the safety of the people.

That last one would be hard, you weren't comfortable at the thought of hurting the cursed people of Khaenri'ah as well as the other civilizations that Celestia bombed. Your characters were always strong enough to destroy the towers and leave but you aren't.

Perhaps you can lure them to a different area and destroy the towers once they were distracted? Do they count as creatures of Teyvat that could recognize you as the creator? Or is the corruption from Celestia too strong?

Spreading Evil - A abyssal mage is scheming something in the square area. Defeat it and it's hilichurl allies by preventing the completion of the ritual.

Nevermind, this one takes the cake on what you did not want to do. What will you do if the abyssal mage is electro? You're basically useless! Well, maybe not since you can light up a torch and burn it till the shield breaks but still. Your divine aura may be prominent to them and cause them to report back to the Abyssal Prince. You weren't eager to ever meet him.

You go back to Katheryne and show her the commission list.

"Just a question, is the abyssal mage in this a electro one?"

Katheryne opens a separate book and scans it for a second before nodding. "That's correct, it was reported to be a electro abyss mage with four hilichurl allies."

"I'm afraid I can't accept this commission. I can only control electro and the shield can't be broken by simply waiting for it to rain like I can with pyro mages."

Katheryne nods at your words and flips through the book as she speaks. "Understood, the only commissions left at this time are either in a rank above you or too far away. You can wait here or check back in a few days to see if we receive any more commissions."

Would it be worth it to try convincing her that as you have no rank, you can do any commissions? Probably not, arguing with a robot never goes well. Sighing you're about to move away when a man nearly bulldozes you as he tries to get to the counter.

"Please help me! I'll pay whatever I have to if a adventurer can accept my commission!"

Moving to stand at the side you look up at the man and narrow your eyes trying to figure out where you've seen him before. Katheryne takes the panicked state of the man in stride and asks what commission he is trying to request.

"My daughter Yiran was being babysat by a new nanny due to my regular one getting sick, and she was kidnapped! Treasure hoarders stormed the dock area, and the babysitter hid leaving Yiran in the open. I was working at the Blackcliff Forge when the Millelith approached me and told me what happened. The only thing that was retrieved was this."

In his hands is a child sized dirty dark teal shoe. You're only relieved that it isn't bloody. This man is the one who stands near the toy seller with his daughter. Manager Kuan if you remember correctly.

"Please, I'll pay whatever I have to for someone to accept my commission and find my daughter. The Millelith refuse to put more attention on my case due to the increase of monsters. But the more time passes the farther away Yiran gets."

Kuan speaks with urgency as Katheryne shakes her head sadly.

"I'm afraid we don't accept commissions like these. While the guild may rarely accept a lost pet commission, they are usually never completed. To protect our reputation the guild does not accept commissions that we aren't sure can be completed. Only if a adventurer or team personally accept it can we accept it."

This seems to break Kuan even further. Tears of frustration well up in his eyes making him rub them roughly pushing up his glasses. His grief and discouragement is visible on his face as he continues trying to convince Katheryne.

The wind rushing in your ears don't let you hear or make out his next words. The wrinkles in his face seem to deepen and his black hair turns grey. The once short fine hair grows into a shaggy mattered mess of silver. Facial hair grows and tangles together as his clothes are torn into ruin. The once middle-class looking outfit is covered in patches, holes, dirt, and dried blood. It's him.

Dad.

"I'll accept the commission." Your words come out quiet, but he hears them. Turning to you, you see your adoptive father's face flash for a second before it melts away to Kuan's face. The illusion is broken as your father's image is gone with Kuan shakily smiling at you.

"Really? Name your price, I'll pay whatever I have to, to find Yiran."

Closing your eyes in a look of contemplation hides the tears that threatened to build up.

"Let me make it clear. I cannot promise to find Yiran and I will not accept any money unless I manage to find her or her body. I will try my hardest to find her but if after a week, I cannot find her I will have to leave this commission undone. Mostly because she could be in another nation by that point and it would be impossible to find her then."

"I understand, I just want you to try while there is still a chance." Kuan speaks to you with a sad smile. It's uncomfortably too similar to your dad.

Katheryne begins to walk Kuan through the process of drafting a commission and Lan places a hand on your shoulder. The rugged sigh that leaves her as she speaks hint to what she wants to speak to you about.

"Y/N was it? Come and speak with me for a second." Silently you follow her around the building, a safe distance from Kuan.

"You may have talked big game while the funeral director was here but you're a beginner adventurer. Do you understand what kind of commission you just accepted? If you somehow manage to find Yiran, it won't be a little girl. It'll be a gruesome corpse."

"At least that way I can bring something back to bury. Something to remember his daughter by." You say with a sense of longing. Memories of you sobbing over the lack of items to remember your father by rise to the surface.

"Even still, you should have left this to the Millelith. It may be hard not to accept it but you'll regret it when you cannot find anything and come back empty handed. You gave him hope when it's better to just give up-"

Firmly you place your hands on her shoulders. Your grip turns bruising as you force her body closer to yours. Lan's brown bob brushes against your face as you whisper in her ears.

"How hypocritical of you Lan. Don't you realize? You take on any commission containing the word 'sword', no matter the difficulty, to give your brother a proper funeral. That man, that father, is willing to put up with the emotional pain of hope to make the best of his chance at finding his daughter before it really is too late. And I will do what I want, for who I want, for anyone that reminds me of my own motivation. If I have to come back to him and hand him his daughter beaten, bruised, bloody body, then I will."

You push yourself away from Lan as she steps back with fear in her eyes. Her expression changes into a mixture of fright and wariness. There's no doubt that she's wondering how you knew about her mission about her brother. And despite the consequences that can come from this, you can't be bothered to care.

Kuan was not your father but he reminded you so much of him. Your dad that took you in and cared for you how no one else ever bothered to. If helping Kuan gives you the same feeling as when you would help your dad, then you'll gladly do it.

Turning back you turn the corner and Kuan is already smiling tiredly at you. The ache in your heart grows as the swell of happiness refuses to stop.

"Again, thank you so much for accepting. The commission I filled out has all the information I got from the Millelith, it's very little I'm afraid. They are taking this very lightly." There's a bite to his words this time.

"It's okay, I'll make do with the information you gave in. I should get going now to make the most of the time. You can expect to hear from me by the end of the week."

Taking the commission from Katheryne titled 'Missing Treasure' Kuan gives a wave as you begin walking to the city's main entrance. Not wasting time, you start flipping the pages and skimming the pages.

Yiran, a few children, teens, and two adults were taken around the same time. The adults were homeless while the children and teens were either poor or orphans. It seems the treasure hoarders did their homework on their victims.

Kidnapping these vulnerable minorities is a commen tatic in human trafficking. Orphans have no one that would look for them and the government could care less about the homeless. Liyue is such a bustling and thriving market that these kinds of people are pushed out and ignored.

You've lived through that on Earth, you intentionally avoided the rich areas due to this reason. Living here as a homeless orphan would be even worse. People look past you like you don't exist while those that do acknowledge your existence tend to behave violently. The government doesn't fix the problem due the fear of homelessness fueling people to work even when it's not good for them.

Yiran was probably a mistake. Either they were targeting the babysitter, mistoke her for a different victim, or saw her as a lucky grab. If Yiran wasn't kidnapped, the Milelith would have done even less. You shouldn't have expected Liyue to be any better than other rich cities on Earth.

The walk past the glamorous streets feels almost taunting. The guards that doze off and leisurely chat make your blood boil. Scolding them now would do no one any good. It would only eat up the time you need to find Yiran's body. Your thoughts were better off solving this case.

Making a detour you go to the scene of the crime, the docks. It's damp, with little security and it's mostly children and the poor. Makes sense as the main docks are simalir to a tourist area, no one wants trash around.

The majority of the ships are gone meaning no sailors are around. The timing was perfect. For once the treasure hoarders pulled off a good plan. Did the traveler only meet the stupid bunch or were the smart hoarders avoid the traveler intentionally?

Either way you followed the rough path the hoarders took until they left the city entrance. A cart must have been driven due to the amount of people to carry and restrain is too much for a group. This helps you narrow it down that they had to follow the path shown on the map. Liyue's terrarin is filled with mountains and rocks that make it nearly impossible to go off track.

You cross the wooden bridge, pass the small pond, climb the stairs and begin trekking through the path. There's a teleport waypoint that makes you sigh in relief. You really didn't want to have to walk the whole way back, plus it's a quiet enough area that you don't have to worry about witnesses.

Climbing up the boulder, you touch the waypoint and begin climbing back down. You weren't eager to use your wind glider just yet. The hike is pleasant but you keep your eyes peeled for anything that can serve as a clue.

Eventually, you get to a small village-like area, it's nearly abandoned judging by the lack of, well, anyone. You do freeze at the sight of Morax's Statue of the Seven.

The only question that runs through your mind is should you touch it?

On one hand you would get the geo element and just more power in general. On the other hand that would basically summon Zhongli to your area and you weren't ready for round 2 with a Archon.

The conclusion you arrive at is that you'll wait till you're injuried to touch it. At least that way you can test if you're able to be healed by it.

Making sure to keep a safe distance from the statue to avoid triggering it, you're about to continue your journey when you notice something. A book on a flat rock with the title 'Tracking and Hunting - a guide for the new and experienced'.

Was this not the book you were trying to find yesterday? What luck, you could use this to track the treasure hoarders with more effiency! Grabbing it you flip to the first page but are startled by a yell.

"Hey! Apologies for the intrusion but that book is mine for the time being."

Xingqiu and Chongyun run up to you as you hold the book to your chest. The pale blue exorcist is too busy calming himself down from the jog to pay much attention to Xingqiu reaching for the book with a polite smile.

How fake.

"Is it really? I simply saw this book laying on this rock, all abandoned. If you can't respect a book then you definitely shouldn't have checked it out."

Xingqiu grits his teeth and his polite smile strains in his effort to keep his annoyance in check. "Thank you for the advise, I'll be sure to keep better track of my belongings."

It seems Xingqiu is putting up his act due to his reputation as the second son of the Feiyun Commerce Guild. You need him to break character so that you can recruit him to help you find Yiran. He's all about justice and chivalry after all.

"I'll be happy to return this book if you- wait what the hell is that?" Your tone goes from mocking to confusion as Xingqiu steps closer letting you view him. The change in your tone brings Xingqiu and Chongyuns attention to you.

You stare at Xingqiu's hair with increadibility that slowly morphs into laughter. Your laughter grows as Xingqiu inquires what you're laughing so hard about.

"What the hell is that haircut? It's more uneven than mountains, with more layers than an onion with some strands poking up like a porcupine. If you paid someone for this haircut then get your money back!"

You hold the book to your stomach as you double over in hysterics. Chongyun keeps a palm over his mouth as he struggles to contain his chuckles. Xingqiu's calm facade seems to crack with each ring of your laughter and your next words seem to break him.

"I don't know how much self-confidence you have to have, to go around with that hair, but I need some! Oh god, what are those bangs?!"

Chongyun turns away as he trembles with laughter that slips through his fingers. Xingqiu crosses his arms in annoyance as he begins his own tirade.

"What kind of person are you? Who begins to mock the person they are basically stealing from? Do you have no chivalry?! What gives you the confidence to give someone else shit for their style when you can't even choose one?! A Liyue style glider with Inazuma style clothing is terrible combination, only able to be worn by a simpleton like you!"

He pants harshly while pointing at you as the laughter dies down. Chongyun looks at his friend in some shock and seems to struggle in whether to intervine or not. You stand up with a smug grin and lean closer to the Guhua swordsman.

"Still not as bad as the bowlcut you're sporting."

Xingqiu groans loudly at your words and lays his palm open. "Let's just stop this stupid conversation. Return my book now."

"Like I said, I need it so either help me out or let me keep it."

"Return my book or else." Xingqiu's hands clench tightly and Chongyun places a hand on his shoulder. He ignores it.

"I'm not returning it unless you make a choice between the options I presented."

A sacrifical sword is quickly pointed at your neck as Xingqiu stares at you.

"Give it back or you'll know my sword." The familair line makes you smile happily as you place the book on his outstretched hand. "Sure!"

"It's just a shame that I'll have less resources to track down those treasure hoarders. I hope I can find them in time..." You speak outloud as you pass them making Chongyun glance back at you. Xingqiu is still gripping his sword without looking at you.

"Wait, please! Can you explain why you are tracking down the treasure hoarders?" Chongyun finally takes the initiative and calls out to you.

Smiling pleasantly you turn to Chongyun and speak while being well aware of Xingqiu resisting the urge to look at you.

"I'd be happy to. Last night treasure hoarders swept through the lower level docks in Liyue and kidnapped some people. That includes my commissioners daughter, Yiran. The cart they are driving must be following this path but I know it'll split at some point. That's why I wanted the book to help me track the hoarders down."

Chongyun's face returns to his usual frosty look. "I understand why you were in such dire need of the book. I would like to help you. My name is Chongyun and I'm a exorcist. I track down ghosts and evil spirits so perhaps my experience can help you."

"That would be a great, thank you so much! I'm Y/N and feel free to speak comfortably."

One acolyte joined, now you only need the other. But if Xingqiu is being too stubborn to help you then you're better off leaving him-

Your train of thought is cut off by the book being thrusted into your arms as Xingqiu walks toward the stairs leading further down the path. You and Chongyun send Xinqui a confused look at his sudden actions.

"What are you two doing gawking at me like that? We're wasting time standing around like this."

A huff of laughter leaves you at his words and you motion Chongyun to follow along as you begin to follow Xingqiu.

"Nice to see that his highness is willing to set aside time in his busy reading schedule to help out with this case."

"I'm a purser of chivalry and justice first and foremost. It seems you do know that I'm related to the Feiyun Commerce Guild. You've got guts to treat me in such a unabashed manner."

"What's the Feiyun Commerce Guild? Some small family business? You didn't really expect me to recognize you immediately right? I mean I'm just a traveler who recently arrived."

Xingqiu seems a bit embarrassed at how he psyched himself into revealing himself. The mockingly kind tone you use only enhances it.

"Can you two please stop arguing? The treasure hoarders will hear you both and run away before either of realize at this point."

Chongyun's calm demeanor and words remind you of your original mission. Now that you recruited the useful acolytes, it's best you don't get too distracted.

"Chongyun is right, why don't you tell me your name bowlcut?"

"My name is Xingqiu and I'm the second son of the Feiyun Commerce Guild. A great displeasure to meet you Y/N." He scowls as he speaks but there's no real bite to his words.

"Nice to meet you too bowlcut. While I read the important sections on your book, why don't I hand you the notes from the original comission? Are you intrested in reading it too Chongyun?"

"No, my main focus is on exorcisim. I'll just keep watch of you both while you read and walk."

Nodding you hand the notes to the curious Xingqiu and search through the book as Chongyun guides you both down the staircase. The treasure hoarders must have lost time going down this steep staircase without crashing the cart.

Finishing it rather quickly due to your previous knowledge on the subject, you spot two Milileth guards on the right. They might have seen something suspicious! Tapping Chongyun's shoulder you point at the soldiers.

"Let's ask them if they saw anything, a cart being driven must have caught some attention."

He nods and stops Xingqiu from walking off, Xingqiu only waves you both away as he stands in place. Being careful not to touch and trigger Chongyuns yang enegry you walk with him to the guards.

"Hello, we were wondering if you saw any carts passing by from the Harbor. If there was too many then were there any that looked particularly suspicious?"

Only one guard answers you as the second is too busy relaxing at the table. "We do a routine inspection on everyone that passes through. If any of them were suspicous we would have escorted them to the city."

"So who was watching over whenever you escorted a suspicous person/group back to the city?" You ask in slight disbelief.

The guard goes quiet as if contemplating on what to say... You aren't sure whether to laugh or sigh. The second guard is dragged over by the first guard.

"Oh are you both here for a face reading? The blue one has some striking eyes which indicates a strong spirit but the other one is a bit harder. That mask makes it difficult but I can tell that you have a, what's the nice way to say it? A rather plain but ordinary face, you can think of it as good thing if you think about how easy it is to change it to something more interesting."

Your expression drops in unison with Chongyuns at his words. You had a feeling Liyue's guards weren't the best but this was even more pathetic than you thought. It's clear this guy was slacking off during his whole shift.

"We don't want a face reading so don't expect us to pay for your crappy words. We just wanted to know if you saw any suspicous carts passing by."

"Oh well I kind of left for some tea at the Emerald Maple Inn on the left. A older lady passed by me and stayed by the roadside during that time so I suppose you're better off asking her."

Chongyun presses a palm to his face at the second-hand embarrassment. The only thing that's stopping you from slugging this incompetent soldier is Yiran and the fact it's a nice sunny day.

"Thanks for the doing less then the bare minimum. We'll be on our way now." You say in a polite voice and push Chongyun back to Xinqui while ignoring the offended man.

"That was so embarrassing. A traveler like you who is new to Liyue should not have had to see such a... lazy soldier." He puts the truth very kindly before holding a hand to his head as he steadies his breathing.

You get back to Xingqiu and explain what happened. He managed to look even more disappointed than Chongyun and the three of you climb the left hill to the Inn. Xingqiu had already finished reading and you swapped the reading material to their original owners.

Tables are set up outside the Inn and one of them has a elderly lady drinking tea at one of them. Walking up to her, you smile kindly as the guys hang back to question the owner of the Inn.

"Hello ma'am, around last night or early this morning, did you go down by the road? If so did you notice a strange cart passing by?"

"In fact I did, I told one of the guards when he came back but he didn't take it very seriously... Well a few people were driving a cart loudly talking about meeting a group at the fork in Guili Plains. I'm afraid that's all I know."

...Was the book even necessary now? What kind of cliche convient villain move is speaking about your evil plans out-loud? There goes all the compliments you gave them for making smart choices. But they did choose the one time when no guards were present. Does that cancel out their stupidity or show just how lucky they are?

"Thank you so much for the information. I'll get going now and use it wisely." The old woman nods at your polite dismissal and rejoin the disastified duo who brighten up at the information you obtained. Until a young boy comes out from the Inn asking.

"Is that the cough adventurer with the medicine? cough"

That sounded familiar, too familiar to be a coincidence. The old woman attends to the boy's coughing fit as you look through your handbook.

Straight to the Heart - Qingxin must be freshly picked to be made into effective medicine. Pick it off the mountain and get it to the caretaker within the time limit. Enemies may be in the area.

Yup, the area where the comission takes place is your exact location. This was your commission to deal with.

Turning back to Xingqiu and Chongyun who are patiently waiting for you, you explain the situation. They agree to seperate from you and continue the path to Guili Plains while you finish the commission. Promising to catch up with them soon you wave and Xingqiu shoots you one last remark.

"Oh and be careful when climbing! Geovishap hatchlings have a tendency to push off unlucky climbers!"

...He was joking right?

With a mental note to get him back for that, you turn back to the old woman and show her the commission paper.

"Hello again, before I leave to continue my journey I would like to get that pesky qingxin for you first."

She smiles relieved and brings you near the back of the Inn. Pointing upward to a mountain that was more of a rocky hill, she tells you of a qingxin that grows there.

After she leaves to prepare the rest of medicine, you begin climbing. Your climbing skills are rusty so you slide down at the worst times but you manage to pick up on your old skills relatively quickly.

So focused on climbing, the wind brushing against your cheek goes unnoticed until a leaf hits you. Moving it away leads you to looking at the gorgous scenary of Liyue.

The clear water of Luhua Pool. The mountains dotted with trees and grass. And even the areas with ruins make for a picturesque view. In the distance you can see the Wangshu Inn. You really hope Xiao never catches wind of you or else you'll constantly be monitored.

Finally arriving at the top, you sit down and rest your body. You aren't aching but you weren't about to pick the flower and jump off. Planning was still needed to avoid a broken bone.

Should you use the wind glider or speed climb down this hunk of rock?

The wind seems to pick up as the pebbles are thrown off the rock you're on. That was not a good sign for a beginner like you. Seems speed climbing it is!

Mapping out a route that would have you alternating between sliding and climbing you double checked it before standing up. The moment you pick the qingxin from it's place that you remember that the time limit for this comission is 30 seconds unless you defeat an enemy.

Scrambling you hurry down while mentally counting down the seconds. That's probably why you didn't notice the geo slime that you kicked off the mountain in your rush.

It's only after handing the qingxin just in time to the old woman that you notice how squishy your boot is.

You end up leaving back to the path with a bag of rewards from completing the commission and some slime concentrate in your bag. There's a clear crunch of the leaves as you walk the path quickly in hopes of catching up to the duo.

You pass by the wilderness and animals as you keep jogging. There's a small stone bridge and you spot the different shades of blue hair moving rather quickly. Getting closer you see the new third indivual.

A black figure with glowing red undertones dives between the sword and claymore clashing against the sacrifical knife. The pyro delusions and maroon mask makes it clear that the fatui agent isn't going to relent easily.

Summoning your sickle, you run into the fray as the agent dissapears leaving a red silloutte behind.

"I didn't arrive too late right?" Xingqiu blocks a strike and Chongyun uses his skill to apply cryo to the area.

"Right on time actually. Quite suprising for someone like you." Superconduct heightens your damage as your sickle slices the agent's arm with electro.

"Ha ha. On the other hand when is your other earing arriving? I believe it's long overdue." Xingqiu's raincutter is summoned making reactions fly around.

Frozen, superconduct, electro-charged, and some shatters keep the agent from barely moving.

"For the last time, will you both stop fighting and focus fully on the fight?" Chongyun's cold clear voice seems to momentarily redirect your attention to the fight. It's only now that you can actually look at the state of the Fatui agent.

A mask half frozen with chunks of it biting into his skin, the blood stains the ice red and the eye's flicker. His arm and legs seem to jerk at random times, most likely from the electro-charged reaction still running in his system. With multiple slash marks and grave wounds that breeched his suit into his skin. It's the hand barely hanging to his wrist that bleeds the most.

This was less of a fight and more of one sided beat down. Compared to when you and Heizou fought those Fatui skirmishers this was a breeze. Made sense but it still felt nice to see some progress in your own strength.

The bone is visble as the blood continues to spurt out of the wound as the agent staggers. None of you move as he sways before falling backword onto a huge chunk of leftover ice. It stabs his stomach letting you see the now pink tip of the ice that went through him.

The force also wretched the hand off his wrist making it land with a sickening splat. Lucky as always, it lands at your feet. Blood drips down from your sickle onto the decapitated hand making you sheathe it back into nothingness.

Looking back to the freeze team, their clothes have much more blood but they ignore it and walk past the body. With them as your guidance, you follow them and grip the agent's sacrificial knife in your hand before quickly stuffing it into your bag.

"So how did that fight even begin? I never saw any mention of the Fatui being involved with the kidnapping."

The way you easily move on to a conversation is comical. You had just committed a joint murder with a duo that you met a mere hour ago and yet you don't feel distraught. Not like the first time you killed in Teyvat. It seems you're starting to adapt to Teyvat's laws. Would you ever fully adapt to it's religious beliefs about the 'creator'?

"The agent jumped at us yelling something about paying back a debt due. But judging how suprised he was when he saw us, he must have believed we were someone else." Chongyun explains thoughtfully.

Xingqiu presses a hand over his mouth seeming to ponder something.

"Do you think the Fatui agent met with the treasure hoarders at the fork? Since the hoarders cart were the only suspicious people going through, it would make sense that they would be meeting the Fatui."

"Then if you're right, something must have gone wrong at the meetup. Damn I wish he didn't die, we could have questioned him."

Depending on the meetup, chasing after the treasure hoarders would be useless if they gave Yurin and the rest of the captives to the Fatui.

"We would have gone easier on the agent if we knew you could control electro. I don't see any vision on you so how do you control the elements? Are you similair to a cartain golden haired traveler?"

"Let's just say it's an ability I gained after an upgrade. It's not a delusion though so forget that kind of possibility."

Xingqiu shoots you a skeptical look at the nonchalant way you dismissed his questions. Chongyun, ever as guilable nods in understanding before asking his own question.

"Did that upgrade also give you your perfect spirit?"

Being careful not to trip on a abandoned wagon, you glance questionably at Chongyun.

"I have no idea what that means. I've heard of yin and yang energies but I'm not well versed in it."

He places a finger to his chin as he struggles to explain the concept to you.

"A perfect spirit is something of a legend. Everyone has a mix of yang and yin that can changes depending on the day, mood, constiution and other factors. I'm one of the few that has a pure yang spirit that I struggle everyday to control. But your spirit is perfectly balanced and even during the fight it didn't waver. It's not just perfect, it's also similair to a void. It feeds on the surrounding energies and stabilizes them. Usually I would spend half an hour after a battle to calm down but with you here I had no need to."

Was that a perk of being the creator? If so that can be pretty neat but on the other hand it also makes you terribly shady. Under a better circumstance you could use it as proof of you being the creator. It really is a shame.

"When I studied the books in my families library, it said that only the creator could have such a spirit..." Of course you had to be right.

The red scrapes that you earned from the fight seemed to grab the attention of both vision holders. To them, it's proof that you aren't the creator and to you, it's proof that no matter what kind of evidence you gather, your blood will always disprove it.

"All those little things about you don't seem to be adding up Y/N. The electro, the vague backstory, the strange aura that surronds you, the so-called perfect spirit and that mask aren't making you any less questionable."

Xingqiu's voice slips through the cracks created by Chongyun in your identity. The crushing of dirt stops as Chongyun and Xingqiu block your way.

"The creator is not one to be messed with or imitated. Evil spirits and demons are the only ones filthy enough to do so. There's a large chance you've been possessed by one. Allow us to purge you, I can promise that in death you'll be freed."

His prototype archaic claymore is summoned in his hands, he always had a one track mind when it came to exorcisim after all. Xingqiu stays behind but the sacrifial sword in his hands is clearly visible.

The day had been going so well too.

"I think you both are getting ahead of yourselves." The smooth words only make them freeze and glare at you.

"I mean neither of you even gave me a chance to speak! Chongyun do you really belive that the creator is only desecrated by evil spirits and demons? I mean just think of Xinyan's concerts, many of those people were just simply terrible."

His grip on his weapon is firm but he nods his head solemly.

"I'm well aware of that but I earnestly believe that you're possessed. Someone like you who accepted a comission to save a little girl isn't one who I would suspect to be a sacrilegious person."

"And even if you are simply a horrible person that finds enjoyment in mocking the creator in this fashion, I could deal with you instead." Xingqiu leers closer as he expertly twirls his sword.

"Defending chivalry and spreading justice is my passion after all." The kind smile on his face mocks you.

Taking out your weapon would only agrivate the situation and confirm their belief. Instead you bow to them and speak curteously.

"As the situation has degraded this badly, I may as well reintroduce myself truthfully. I'm Y/N, an oracle for the creator. My main purpose is to investigate acolytes and the citizens faith simultaneously. The creators spirit envelops me like this to protect me and help me protect others."

Your words catch them both off-guard. Xingqiu double downs on his stance as Chongyun takes a step back.

"I was ordered to be as vague as possible which makes me very suspicious but I have to be careful in what I say. The perfect spirit sitaution may be new to me but there's a very logical explanation."

"And what may that be? If it's not satisfactory I will purge you as soon as possible seeing as you must be possessed by a demon of unknown caliber."

"Think back to when the creater controlls you, does your yang enegry ever get out of control?"

"Of course not, the creators spirit inhibits us and allows us to access blessings that belong to them."

"Then why can't I, who is constantly connected to the creator access those blessings?"

"Thats-!" Chongyun bits his lip as he looks away clearly conflicted.

"The creator is all powerful! Do you think that their perfect spirit isn't strong enough to completely overpower mine?"

Chongyun loses his grip on his claymore and it's dissapears into the air. He's far too anguished between what he knows is a fact and what his own feelings tell him. Too easy, easy to the point where Xingqiu steps in.

"That's a nice runaround and although I can't comment on this perfect spirit conversation as I have not been allowed to read those books yet. I believe it's your identity as a oracle that is the most questionable."

"I know, a clever and eloquent man like yourself would not be so easily swayed by a charlatan like me."

"Cut the crap and show me whatever proof you have. Or is your hands as empty as your skull?"

Ignoring his words, you send a mental thank you to Ayato and display the fan. It would be useless to use in convincing Chongyun but Xingqiu would know due to his high-standing.

Just as you suspected Xingqiu's eyes widen for a second before he moves closer to examine the fan.

"It's the real deal... This texture is one only used in Inazuma for those close to the Electro Archon." His fingers brush against the fabric of the fan before he pulls away with a softening scowl. "I suppose you weren't lying if you managed to get this fan. The Kamisato Commissioner is said to be a elusive man."

Chongyun looks at the fan and Xingqiu in confusion before sighing and giving up on understanding the conversation.

"If that quells all remaining doubts then lets get going. We wasted a lot of precious time." Quickly you walk past them and smile at the sounds of their footsteps following you.

Putting the fan back into the safety of the bag you remember how thankful you are for meeting Ayato. At least with proving yourself to him, you managed to get such a useful tool. It's only fair to milk it for all it's worth.

The fork comes into view and your breath catches in your throat.

The lush grass was crushed under a mix of debris and blood. Crimson stained and dripped down the stone hedge as pieces of dirty clothing drifted in the area. The huge wreckage of a smashed up transportation vehicle was the main center piece.

Aside from the dead bodies littering the area.

Bodies of treasure hoarders with elemental wounds were the most abundant. A few Fatui skirmishers with makeshift reaction and weapon wounds laid in the clearing. The war-machines were deactivated as the bodies rot inside.

Taking steps forward to the middle of the wreckage, it's a single item that installs fear.

A pink flower pin lays innocently on the ground. The blood and dirt on it seems to glisten with malice as the sun reaches it's peak in the sky.

It's finally out!!! OMG it's been so long since I last posted. Work's been burying me, every weekend is a birthday/event/funeral, plus the fall semester is going to start soon. Not to mention Fontaine is almost here and I didn't even finish a single area of Sumeru. Someone stop time, I need sleep. I hope I gave reasonable explanations for the stories behind the commissions. You know the first commission completed with the Qingxin? If you climb the mountain I described, you will find a Qingxin. I know this chapter may be a bit boring since it focused on the kidnapping but I hope Xingqiu and Chongyun were written well enough. I don't think they have a romantic relationship like many fans describe. Then again, I don't like shipping in general. I gave Xingqiu a similair dynamic to Ayato but there is difference. Ayato is more of a 'pretend to be formal while insulting' meanwhile Xinqui is more juvinele with 'I feel annoyed by your presence and the fact I like it is even worse'. Both are fun but if something else works better with Xingqiu's personality please let me know! Time for me to actually finish exploring the summer event and go to even more activites I don't want to attend T-T. (I'll recheck it when I can on my PC) Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @sielt, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @conspicuous-mayonnaise, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @sielt, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zeniths, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @undecidingfate, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @fluffy-koalala, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling

[hmslusitania]

prompt number 2, 8, 15, or 35 for TimKon or something with arrowfam (tv or comics lol)? Or whichever prompt that's calling to you! :)

I went with 8: "Am I close?" "Not even a little."

The thing is, Kon shouldn’t really be surprised. Tim, who hates surprises but keeps secrets like it’s his first language, is exactly the sort of person who — given a modicum of leeway — would plan some insane surprise situation for his boyfriend without even letting Kon have a hint about what it is.

“You scheduled us all a shift in the Justice League’s old moon base because you want to see what happens when Bart tries to run at reduced gravity,” Kon guesses, poking the bare strip of skin between the hem of Tim’s shirt and waistband of his boxer briefs. Tim is sitting up in bed and hunched over his laptop, focusing heavily on some case details for his latest Gotham bullshit situation. Kon is pretty much immune to random body aches, but his back twinges in sympathy the longer he observes Tim’s posture.

“No, but I do want to do that now,” Tim says, shifting a little when Kon pokes him again.

“Why won’t you just tell me?”

“And ruin the surprise?” Tim asks, twisting to look at him. The new posture does nothing to help the state of his back, and Kon can’t look at it anymore without intervening. He snatches Tim around the waist, uses his TTK to put Tim’s laptop safely on the floor, and hauls him back to bed.

“Can I get a hint?” Kon asks, when he’s got Tim’s spine properly straightened out and Tim’s face mashed against his chest.

Tim hums, considering. “No,” he decides finally.

“You convinced Wonder Woman to let us borrow her jet, so we can go to that crazy mall out in the middle of space where they sell everything and relive our wasted youth as ‘hoodlums who lurk in malls’,” Kon guesses, grabbing the two Gotham goons trying to rob the bank he’d been assigned by the collars of their jackets and hauling them up into the air while they scream.

“If you’re going to operate in Gotham, please observe Bat-comm protocol,” Oracle scolds mildly through the earpiece Kon had been talked into.

“I was never—” Tim starts, and is interrupted by the sound of his bo staff hitting the goons at the bank he’d been dispatched to. Kon thinks this is probably moor coordination than the general Gotham goon squad typically gets up to — robbing a dozen banks simultaneously in broad daylight because they’d been under the impression there was just the one daylight vigilante — but he’s not the detective here and his only real job is to help prevent the robberies. “—a mall hoodlum.”

“That’s just because the one mall in Gotham that wasn’t constantly getting carpet bombed by fear gas when we were growing up didn’t have a game store,” Steph pipes up in the comms.

“Ooh! Is that the surprise? You’re finally gonna teach me Dungeons and Dragons?” Kon asks.

“Kids, as much as I respect both games that help you hone skills like improv and storytelling and math, and the joys of young love,” Black Lightning says over the comms. “Maybe you can work on planning your date night later?”

“Sorry,” Tim and Kon reply, and Kon goes back to delivering his set of goons to the waiting members of the GCPD Oracle had dispatched to collect them.

Kon doesn’t reconnect with Tim until they’re done stopping all the robberies, the Bats, the Outsiders, and Kon pitching in because he’s in town. He meets him on a rooftop where Tim’s perched on a gargoyle to observe his city, and he smiles when Kon extends the bag of Bat Burger takeout his way.

“Did you get the fries Jokerized?” Tim asks.

“No, that felt like it was in really bad taste,” Kon replies.

Tim hums and goes a little pink beneath his mask. “Actually, they’re pretty good, and since even Jason’s said that, it’s just one of those weird facts we have to live with.”

“If you guys go into Bat Burger in costume, do they give you discounts?” Kon asks, unwrapping his own burger. “Like, I think the Flashes all have free admittance to the Flash Museum, or would if it was possible to keep them out of it.”

“They don’t give us discounts, but they do look at us kinda funny if we order things besides the menu items named for us,” Tim says.

“This city’s insane, right, like, you do know that,” Kon says. It’s kinda supposed to be a question, but he can’t quite make it one since it’s such an obvious statement.

“Yeah,” Tim agrees, with nearly a fond sigh about it.

They eat their burgers in companionable quiet for a moment, and then Kon prods Tim in the knee. “So was I close? Game night?”

Tim grins at him. There’s a sesame seed stuck at the corner of his mouth, and it shouldn’t be cute, but Kon is uselessly gone on him, so it is anyway. “Not even a little.”

--

“Someone crafted a superpowered rage room and we’re going to—”

“Nope.”

“The Watchtower needs new permanent crew for a six-month shift—”

“It has nothing to do with space.”

“Well, that’s — wait, is this blindfold lead-lined?”

“Did you just try to x-ray vision your way into a hint?” Tim demands, and stops walking. Kon, guided only by Tim’s hands on his shoulders, also lurches to a stop.

“Well, yeah,” he says.

“Cheater,” Tim scolds.

“I already agreed not to use my super-hearing or my super smelling, you’ve gotta give me something,” Kon complains.

Tim mutters something under his breath that might be “I give you plenty,” but Kon’s pretty sure it’s not the time for that kind of talk.

“Step up,” Tim instructs, and Kon places his foot on a wooden stair that creaks under his weight. “Another one.”

The second stair creaks too, in a way that’s deeply familiar, and Kon knows before Tim says that there’s one last step onto the porch, and that really begs the question of why Tim’s dragged him to the Kent household as part of the surprise.

Tim circles around him and pushes open the front door, pulling Kon inside by the hand.

“Surprise!”

The call comes from more than just Ma and Pa Kent, and when Kon pulls down the blindfold, the living room is packed with people. Bart and Cassie and Cissie are all there, and Clark and Lois and Jon and Kara, and right in centre, Krypto, who launches himself to lick Kon’s face as soon as Jon lets go of his collar.

“We know it’s not really your birthday,” Ma says, nudging Krypto aside so she can hug him. “But it’s the anniversary of the day we got you back.”

“Kind of like a re-birthday,” Tim suggests, squeezing Kon’s hand.

“Okay,” Kon says, choking on the lump in his throat, which the rest of the group takes as an excuse to hug him as well.

“Sorry it’s not space,” Tim says when Ma squeezes him one last time and then goes to cut apart the cake she’s made.

“That’s okay,” Kon promises, kissing him even though his face is covered in Krypto’s slobber and even though Tim makes a face about that. “This is way better.”

[valtsv]

Is augury kismet a homestuck oc of yours? I've never read it but I'm aware of the term kismesis and that the trolls have six letter first and last names. I'd love to learn more about them if they are, I love hearing about your other ocs like Annie

yeah she is! she's my fantroll oc from an rp server where we were randomly assigned blood colours and classpects and had to construct a character out of that. augury is a jadeblood mage of light prospit dreamer, so i decided to go with a tormented clairvoyant angle. she's exceedingly nihilistic and passive at first, because she's labouring under the conviction that free will is an illusion and that none of her choices matter because her entire life is already predetermined and has been since birth. this isn't helped by the fact that, in alternia, it kind of is, since your place on the hemospectrum heavily dictates your social opportunities and lifestyle choices, as well as being forcibly befriended by a particularly unstable purpleblood (my friend @zoomane's oc terack). they have a relationship best described as "toxic codependent moiralleigance", despite not actually being in any quadrant. augury's name reflects her nature, since "augury" is derived from "augur", a type of oracle in ancient rome who attempted to divine the future from the flight patterns of birds, and "kismet" is a word synonymous with "fate". as a mage of light, augury uses her power's focus on knowledge and fortune to attempt to divine the fate of the players and react accordingly.

augury is an adult (all our characters were adults), which means that she has a role in the empire. since she's a jade, she's not allowed to be conscripted, but she's not very good with or interested in infants, so she became a space warrior nun instead of joining her peers in the brooding caverns. her strife specibus is snarekind (relating to the theme of the threads of fate), and she mostly uses it to set traps and garotte people. she has a rosary made of a tempered high-strength metal alloy which she can rely on for that purpose in a pinch.

apart from being thoroughly depressing and ominous to be around, augury is fairly detached and standoffish. she cares a lot more than she lets on, but she has a prickly outward demeanour and a defensive mean streak that make it hard to notice until you get to know her better. her horn shape reflects this - they resemble thorny vines erupting from her skull.

[anonymous-eggy]

We all know @redspringstudio are all geniuses. but i need you guys to know just how genius these guys are. they put so much thought into assigning their characters flowers, that my oracle cards described Mhin fairly well.

I feel like Mhin is doubtful of their power over themself and the situation they're in. We know them to be incredibly capable and smart, but we also know them to get stuck by mental blocks easily (and, as Mc points out in the demo, it's only their own fault.)

perhaps they need to have trust in their inner strength and allow themself to succeed with the help of Mc and their tools.

there's also a card in this deck for the magnolia, kuras's flower, but I'll make a separate post for that eventually. the deck is Woodland Wardens! highly recommend it

[path-of-grass-and-leaves]

How to Handle Difficult Spirit Communication

UPG Warning: All of this information comes from my personal practice and is not universally true.

To start, spirit communication can be challenging when done solely through divination, but that doesn't mean it's impossible. For beginners, I suggest researching how to sense and perceive spirits. After a while you'll likely begin to develop your own personal methods.

That being said, you don't need to have highly developed spiritual perception in order to communicate. This is where divination comes in. It can be difficult and sometimes frustrating but the more you practice, the easier it will become.

Let's dive into some of the common causes of unsuccessful spirit communication:

You don't know who you're reaching out to or why.

I think this happens more often among beginner practitioners. It was definitely one of my first mistakes when starting. You want to get into spirit work so you dust off your divination tools and start searching for the first spirit willing to talk to you. This IME has resulted in spotty or inconsistent communication and downright unpleasant experiences.

You should know why you're opening channels for communication. Are you attempting to contact a specific individual? Are you searching for a spirit guide or familiar? Are you seeking information or help with a working? Maybe you just want to honor your house or local land spirits. Maybe you suspect that a spirit is trying to get your attention and you want to find out why.

Whatever the reason, you want to make sure that you have a vague idea of who you're contacting and what your intentions are. One thing that I've found when reaching out without direction is that sometimes several unrelated spirits will come through, tying up the lines and confusing the reading.

Divination method is too limiting.

Some spirits prefer specific divination methods so it's important to experiment. Not getting results while using the pendulum? Try something else, like automatic drawing/writing, shufflemancy, or scrying. Tarot meanings not lining up? Try reading the images or elements and numbers instead, or adding an oracle deck to the mix.

I find that using two or more techniques at one time yields the best results. This includes asking for signs and performing dream work or spirit travel.

Results are being overlooked

I always make sure to write down results during divination. Otherwise it's very easy to miss out on key information. Let's say that I'm doing some bare bones spirit identification. I choose to use tarot and shufflemancy. During the session I notice that I'm pulling a lot of wand cards and many of the songs mention fire in some way. So, okay, now I know that this spirit is likely connected to the element fire. Good enough for now.

The next day I ask a follow-up question and don't get any results. This is when I would go back to my notes and review them. It's possible that my question was answered during the previous session and I had overlooked it while focusing on the more obvious information (the fire themes), and the spirit is frustrated with having to repeat themselves.

Questions are too broad or too restrictive.

Let's go back to general identification. I break out my tarot cards and ask, "Who am I speaking with?" and the cards that I pull aren't making sense. In my opinion this question is too direct and open-ended. I might want to rephrase it and ask something like "Which of the images on these cards best represent your preferred form?".

If successful, I would at least have a general idea of appearance and go from there. I might take note of additional details like the suit of the card, it's elemental and planetary correspondence, and assigned meaning.

I would avoid yes/no questions completely. In my personal experience they're always inconsistent, frustrating, and require a lot of guesswork.

Certain actions are required for contact.

Depending on context, culture, folklore, personal path, etc., some spirits may require that you perform a certain ritual or provide an offering before they will speak or work with you.

Now I'm not suggesting you leave offerings for just any random spirit, but there are some situations where it's appropriate. If contacted by an unknown spirit, for example, I would skip all forms of veneration and go straight to divination. But if I were to try and work with, let's say the spirit of my local river, I would have my offering ready before introduction.

You're communicating too often.

Just like any activity, spirit work takes energy. Overdoing it can and will result in burn-out.

If your attempts at communication are unsuccessful you might just need a break. Make sure to step back often and focus your attention elsewhere, like self-care, socialization, and hobbies. Answers will often present themselves after or even during a period of rest.

[little-pondhead]

The Folly of Men -

Chapter 3: #228B22

AO3 - MASTERPOST

[GENERAL TW: Swearing, lukewarm violence, lots of POV changes, and mild body horror.]

-

Damian was still being watched. The summer storm had well and passed, but the eyes he felt on the back of his neck were persistent, following him no matter where he went. He drove himself mad, tearing his room and the rest of Wayne Manor apart for bugs, asked Oracle to scan the city while he patrolled, and even pulled in a favor with some magic users to ensure he wasn't being haunted. Nothing! It was concerning his family, but Damian didn't care. He kept himself surrounded by others at all times whenever he left the house. Something was out there, ready for him to be truly alone. He didn't want to give them the opportunity.

The day came when he was assigned to patrol with Orphan since Batman was with the League but was separated due to the Riddler's schemes. They had solved the riddle already, thankfully, but Damian was intercepted while on his way to their meet-up point.

Pru, a former League assassin, caught his attention from one of Gotham's rooftops, and he swung down to meet her.

“Assassin,” was his only greeting. Damian was not a fool. No matter what had happened between Pru and Drake, she was still dangerous. He drew his sword easily and pointed it at her neck, reminding her that he was still a threat as well.

Pru didn’t look too happy to see him either. “Don’t give me that shit, Robin,” she snarled. “I’m just here to pass on a message.”

“I believe you are loyal to my brother, not me,” Robin hissed. “Why should I believe anything that comes out of your mouth?”

“Because it’s important!” Pru looked frustrated. “Eth Alth'eban is on lockdown, and I barely managed to get out. I can’t get in touch with Red Robin; every time I try, something happens and messages are re-routed or destroyed. Lightning strikes on the communication towers in Antarctica, the encrypted server that runs through Bolivia crashed from a fucking hurricane, even the goddamn carrier pigeon got drawn off course from high winds in Brazil! Do you have any idea how erratic the past two weeks have been? It’s like something is out to get me!”

“So why come to me? You’re in Gotham now.” He pointed out.

Pru threw her hands up, exasperated. “Because Nightwing told me Red Robin is out of the country to help with flooding in Qatar! Apparently, there’s a fucking tropical storm hitting it for the first time ever! You’re the one who really needs to hear this, anyway, so I gave up and found you. It seems Gotham won’t let me leave until I say my piece.”

Damian considered the situation. Pru really did look like she’d been through hell and back. She looked furious at something, and her clothes were still damp from rain. Except it hadn’t rained in Gotham for a while. Not since…the summer storm. The back of his neck tingled again, and he glanced around. Clouds were closing in. Fuck.

He sheathed his sword. Pieces from this puzzle were starting to fall into place, but he needed more information. “Say what you must,” he nodded to Pru while tapping his comms to alert Oracle to the conversation. He also activated his emergency tracker, hoping Orphan or Nightwing would find him in time. Their conversation would end quickly once the woman relayed her message, and Damian wasn't about to force Pru to stay because he was nervous about being alone.

“Finally,” Pru sighed and sat heavily on the rooftop, not minding the glass that dug into her hands and thighs. “Your grandfather has a new Heir.”

Damian blinked, pausing. He wasn’t quite expecting that.

“I only knew about this early because they killed my inside man in the medical department. I got a hold of his notes, and it looks like they were in the middle of treating an unknown entity, and the files all referred to it as the ‘Demon's Heir.’ I'm not Red, so I can't be sure, but the records don't start in a way that would suggest they made a test tube baby or another clone."

"And it is not my cousin they are treating? Perhaps grandfather has changed his mind and declared Mara his ideal Heir."

Pru stared at Gotham's roiling clouds, looking frustrated. She didn't seem to notice anything strange about them. "No. Mara al Ghul was in Kuwait until recently. She and the others from the Demon's Fist were doing something on orders from Mother Soul. It's above my pay grade, so I can't tell you much more than that other than they left suddenly without finishing their business. I'll take a guess that Mother Soul will be pissed about that. I do know that the medical records were updated two days ago to reflect a stab wound to the entity's chest. Their name was also updated: Phantom."

Damian considered Pru's words. He turned the clues over in his mind like stones, carefully examining anything that might hint at deceit. She was telling the truth, unfortunately. "So someone named Phantom has claimed the role of Demon's Heir, and my cousin most likely heard this news first and abandoned her post to attack the usurper," he summarized. "And my grandfather has closed off his city for one reason or another, presumably to either train or protect Phantom. Am I correct?"

Pru nodded. "That's pretty much it, birdie. Whatcha gonna do about it?"

He ignored the jab. "I will consider my options," he said stiffly. "Now that you've served your purpose, leave Gotham immediately." Orphan, where are you?

The former assassin laughed and hauled herself to her feet, brushing off the glass and dirt that stuck to her clothes. "I'll consider it. I've been running around for weeks; Red Robin won't mind if I crash at his, will he?"

"He will."

"Tough shit. See you around!" Pru jumped off the rooftop and into the alley below, not giving a shit about potential muggers as she waltzed into the night.

He was alone.

Damian watched her go before tapping his comms again. “Did you hear everything?” He asked Oracle, but no reply came except static. He expected this but cursed anyway. Thunder started to rumble overhead; he felt it deep in his bones. Whispers of electricity started crawling along the rooftop, following wires and coming dangerously close to touching him. He was forced to back into a corner on the rooftop and hoped his rubber-insulated boots were enough to prevent a shock. The feeling from earlier was stronger than ever. Someone was watching him. They knew he was finally alone. Obviously, Orphan nor Nightwing would get there in time, so Damian would have to deal with this himself.

He turned in a circle, straining his eyes to see through the cloud cover. He still couldn’t pinpoint their location, but he knew they were up there. “Reveal yourself!” He barked, hand on his weapon.

A moment passed. The air pressure changed, making his ears pop uncomfortably. His eyes were trained on the sky as rain started to fall. The clouds above the city gathered wildly, swirling together and reaching down toward him. The bolts of electricity that crawled over the rooftop raced together and rose up to meet it, becoming large bolts of lightning that could do real harm to the city if even one got loose. He stepped back into the corner even further, watching the mass of storm clouds finally get low enough to spread out across the building like a thick fog, revealing a figure in the vague shape of a man.

Great. Of course, it was something magical. He'd be having words with the magic users from earlier.

The man wasn’t touching the ground. In fact, Damian could hardly make out his legs as his broad form blurred from the wind, snatching bits of his green body away. Smaller rain clouds encircled his waist like a belt, and his hair looked more like jagged horns sitting against his brow. While he wore a well-loved weather vest and thick gloves, the rain around them would have soaked the man through by now. But he was perfectly dry. Damian was a little envious.

The man was smiling at him, but not the kind of smile that welcomed him into the conversation. No, this man of clouds and lightning was holding himself like someone was forcing him to be there. His red eyes looked like a swirling red cyclone, and his overall air was disinterested and tired.

Damian flinched as the man opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out except drawn-out screeches and clicks. It sounded like thunder was crashing right next to his ear or a tree getting struck by lightning. He didn't like it. The man frowned, realizing Damian couldn't understand him, and cleared his throat to try again.

“Hello, little Robin,” the man eventually tried, this time in Arabic. His voice was…strange. It sounded like he was gasping with every word, and the thundering sound was still there, muted and layered under the greeting. "I'm sorry, I forgot the people of this world are not natural speakers of the Realm's language."

“I am not little,” Damian snarled, likewise in Arabic.

“Of course not,” the man waved his hand. “A ghost’s size does not determine their power. I greet you nonetheless, little Robin.”

Damian had a feeling that speaking with this man was going to be infuriating. “Who are you?” He demanded. “And why are you in Gotham City?”

“You may call me the Navigator,” the man bowed a little, stiff in his back like he wasn’t used to the action. The Navigator, it seemed, was used to being in power. But by bowing to Damian, he showed his reluctant submission right off the bat, hoping to appease him and have a civil conversation. “And I believe you have a hunch as to why I’m here. You noticed me pretty quickly, after all.”

“So you are the one who’s been stalking me.”

“In plainer terms, yes.”

“I presume you’re the one who’s been messing with Pru as well?”

“You would presume correctly,” The Navigator's face scrunched and swirled like he was making a face of disgust. “I would rather have sent my sylphs to do it, but the Scepter insisted I do this part myself.”

More new information. If Damian remembered, sylphs were elemental wind spirits. So the Navigator was either a spirit himself or someone who could control them. But he said ‘ghost’ earlier. How did that fit in? He didn't look like the undead Damian knew of.

And ‘the Scepter’ was said with an inflection that suggested it was a name. Scepters were symbols of royalty, but Damian didn’t know anyone who actually used one or went by that name. It was no title he’d ever heard of. Whoever they were, they had to be more powerful than the Navigator if they had truly sent him after Robin.

“Aye, I can hear your brain working from here, little Robin.” The Navigator rolled his eyes, stretching the tiny cyclones. “You three are so similar that I’ll never find peace.”

“I don’t quite follow. State your business quickly; I’m losing my patience.”

The Navigator waved his hand, summoning a tablet out of nowhere. He tapped on it a few times clumsily, like he wasn't used to holding it, and then tossed it to Damian. The boy caught it easily and examined the thing. It looked like a normal tablet, similar to the ones Drake made and sold. It had a shield logo stamped on the back with Egyptian hieroglyphs engraved around the edge. It was warm to the touch, and Damian felt a little tingle as he turned it over in his hands. This was filled with magic.

The screen was made from something other than normal glass, that much he could tell as he scrolled away, trying his best to absorb the information quickly while keeping an eye on the stranger. It was a contract, he realized. The contract had been written on papyrus and then scanned in digitally. Half of it was written in a language he recognized but couldn't read. The other half contained details on limitations for the Navigator and instructions he was to follow regarding 'ghostlings,' 'The Guardian,' and...Damian Thomas al Ghul-Wayne.

Damian paled beneath the mask. His full name was in this contract. This was about him. The magical being before him knew who he was. He sped through the pages faster, frantically looking for answers.

...And as stated previously, the Navigator, Ancient of Storms, will grant Damian Thomas al Ghul-Wayne his blessing. This blessing will last the entirety of Damian's natural life until death returns him to the Realms. Upon completing the blessing, the Navigator will dispatch one guard to watch over Damian until the Scepter returns* but will not interfere with him personally.

During this period, the Guardian will fulfill the contract between the Gardener, Ancient of Growth, and one Ra's al Ghul. *The Scepter will enter The Guardian's time loop, and therefore, the Navigator may return to the Realms once the time loop is closed again. The runaway ghostlings will be promptly returned to their Lairs and Haunts in the correct dimensions.

As one last note, the Navigator will also refrain from fucking around with The Sword and The Shield unless he wants to find out what they can do. (I'm serious, too. The Shadow is busy, but I'll still find out if you try something, and I will kick your ass with no hesitation. The other two will be more than willing to punt your ass into Soup Time, as well.)

Upon completing this assignment, I release you from your bind, Ancient of Storms. Return to your Lair and rest with your sylphs. Thank you for your service.

Upon signing, all parties agree to abide by this contract until its terms are met. May the End take our souls if it is ever broken.

The Navigator, Ancient of Storms

Jasmine Nightingale, the Guardian's Scepter

At the bottom, under the signatures, Damian spotted a smaller note addressed to him.

Damian al Ghul, I look forward to our first meeting. Don't forget to bring your sword!

"You," he breathed heavily, glancing up at the mass of clouds. "Explain. What on earth is this?"

The Navigator cocked his head a little too far to the left. "I thought it was pretty self-explanatory," he said in a bored tone. "I was essentially sent on a ravenger hunt to find you and some escaped ghostlings. You shall receive my blessing whether I like it or not, and then I'll leave you to return to my Lair. Hopefully, I'll never have to grace these rotten clouds again!"

"It's 'scavenger hunt.'"

"Huh?"

"Never mind. You are useless at explaining. What is this 'Ancient of Storms' title you have? What are these Realms this contract speaks of? Why must you give me a blessing?"

"Ughhh," the Navigator rolled in the air, groaning. "I'm the embodiment of storms, isn't that obvious? I'd rather deal with Plasmius now than talk with a naive ghostling like you. What kind of ghostling speaks like this anyway? It's rude! I've been practicing my manners; the least you can do is humor me. At least Phantom can figure shit out on his own; I don't have to explain anything to him."

"Phantom?" The name caught Damian's attention. "You know Phantom? Who is he? What does he want with my grandfather?"

"Dunno, little Robin. That's between the Scepter and the Gardener. They had a contract in place decades before your grandfather was even born. And since I'm not allowed near Phantom for a while, all I know is that he's been handed over to Ra's al Ghul for a chance at recovery. He was involved in an incident recently. I don't know the details, but he's hurt so badly it's turning the Realms upside down. That's why I was sent away; I thrive off chaos."

"So, again, you are useless," Damian snarled. He turned away, which, in hindsight, was a stupid move, but he was so angry at the lack of answers that he didn't care. He buried himself back into the tablet, scanning through the contract again, looking for anything useful. Everything seemed so organized, yet the information he wanted felt just out of reach.

He vaguely heard the Navigator mutter in surprise. Something about freaky time visions being too accurate before a blinding white hot pain spread across his body. He dropped the tablet, falling to his knees. It felt like lightning was crawling under his skin, burning him from the inside out. He was distantly aware that he was screaming but didn't know how to stop it. Then the pain was gone in the next instant, and he was left collapsed on the roof, eyes screwed shut as shudders racked his body. He smelled burning flesh. A misty touch brushed away his damp bangs, cooling his brow.

"Yup, I'm pretty sure he's still alive," the Navigator murmured. "Well done, little Robin. Perhaps the Scepter knew what she was talking about when she said you could house my power. Either way, I've said my piece. The rest is up to you. Goodbye, and I hope to never see you again. Feel free to pass on those ghost rabies to the Gardener if you ever see him, though."

And with a rumble of thunder, the presence of the spirit disappeared, taking with him the gentle rain and green storm clouds. Damian lay on that roof for what felt like ages, staring into nothing and dazed from the pain. Nightwing eventually found him, however, with Orphan not far behind.

"Baby Bat!" His elder brother cried, sliding to a stop beside him and gathering Damian in his arms. Cass hovered next to them, unsure of what to do.

"Baba," he croaked in return. "The tablet..."

"Don't worry about that," Nightwing pushed his bangs back, just like the Navigator had. "Are you okay? You're shaking; Oracle lost contact with you over an hour ago and you never showed up to the rendezvous spot. What happened?"

Damian tried to tell him. A being made of storms came by, looking for me by name. He wanted to say. He cut off my comms and shared a contract with me. Then he struck me with lightning and left. We need to bring the tablet back to the Cave for analysis.

But his throat was too dry, and Damian's mind was in too much pain to form the words. As he curled up in Nightwing's arms, all he could mumble was the word 'baba' again and drop his head to the side. Nightwing cursed, instructed Orphan to grab the tablet, and swiftly made the trip back to the Cave with a sense of urgency. Damian groaned the whole way. His body was tender, and every jostle sent tiny shocks through his nerves.

He must have passed out at some point because he remembered skirting around Crime Alley one moment and Alfred checking his vitals the next. The butler gave him a gentle look and dabbed his forehead with a cool cloth. "Where's-" he tried to ask.

"Quiet, Master Damian. Master Dick will be here in a moment." Alfred soothed. Damian dropped it and settled back into the medical bed. When had he taken his clothes off? How long was he out?

A few minutes later, his siblings got the message that he'd awoken and stormed the med bay. "Baby Bat!" Cried Dick, sliding into the room and bolting to Damian's side. "Are you okay? Do you remember us?"

"Yes, baba." Damian croaked. Alfred held a glass of water to his lips, and he sipped carefully to soothe the burn in his throat.

"Dickie told me you got one hell of a shock," Jason, the second eldest, stood in the doorway, arms crossed and staring at them. Cass hung from his side, overwhelmed with anxiety. Steph was shuffling an exhausted Duke into one of the other medical beds, simply so the boy could feel included but still get some rest.

"I did," Damian confessed. Dick gripped his hand tightly, helping him sit up better. "I've been feeling a presence stalk me over the past few weeks, and tonight, I was finally confronted when Cain and I were separated." He left out the part with Pru for now but relayed everything the Navigator had told him, including the details he'd seen on the contract.

Everyone stayed silent as he spoke, but Dick looked like he was ready to bite someone by the end of the story.

"I'm calling everyone back to the Cave," he decided. "This is a Code Addams."

Jason shook his head immediately. "I'm all for punching storm cryptids," he said. "But you know this doesn't fall under Bruce's emergency plans."

"He's right, Dick," Steph frowned. She sat on the other side of Damian's bed, playing with his fingers lightly, and he didn't have the energy to move her. "We can put out a warning, but this sounds like League business to me. Most of us won't really be any help when it comes to al Ghul family drama."

"It's not 'drama,' Brown. Grandfather has taken a new, unknown Heir that has connections to several powerful entities if I'm not mistaken."

Steph nodded. "Yeah! Drama! And if that freaky storm demon shows up again, then we're even less equipped to deal with it. B's not even here right now to help, so we're on our own for this one."

"I'll even send Babs a copy of the contract; she'll probably be able to find something we can't." Jason started tapping away at his phone with one hand, updating the BatKids group chat on the situation and unloading the work onto Barbara.

Dick looked devastated. "But-"

"Hey, Dami?" Duke groaned, cutting everyone off. He was tangled in the thin sheets of the bed now, squinting at the youngest Wayne like he was staring at the sun. "I was kind of half-listening, but you said something about the lightning strike being a blessing, right?"

"Correct."

"Okay, um. Are you aware you glow now? Well, glow more than you used to?"

"...I was not aware. What do you see?"

Duke shuffled and threw an arm over his eyes. The lights of the med bay were giving him a migraine, but he refused to leave now. "You used to just look like a lamp. Now, you look like a bolt of lightning," he said. "There's electricity following your nerves. And your eyes are glowing green—just like Jason's when he's mad. Whatever you got hit with, it's definitely doing something to your body. I just don't know what."

Everyone paused at that.

"Well shit," Jason eventually broke the silence, bringing Cass even closer like a teddy bear. "Looks like we should get a hold of Talia and Bruce, at minimum. Demon Brat, you should probably go to Eth Alth'eban if you want answers."

Damian thumped his head against his thin pillow. "Fuck."

"Potty mouth!"

-

Danny was starting to get tired of waking up sore.

At least he recognized the room. It was the same one as before and actually decorated like a patient's room, not an underground bunker with his own blood splattered on the walls. He groaned, trying to shift his body. How much was he missing? His lungs were back, obviously. They felt raw in his chest. His vocal chords were also half-baked, but speaking wasn't really an issue right now.

What mattered was his pounding headache and the fire beneath his skin. He had started to sweat in his sleep, which is something he'd never done ever since he had died. Danny tried to glance down at this chest. (Had someone slipped his bones back into place?) The bandages were professional work but pulled away easily when he tugged on them. He hissed as they caught on fresh scabs and drew tiny amounts of blood.

His torso was a fucking mess. Danny was underground for ages, he knew. The GIW treated him like an immortal lab rat by tearing open his body every day to poke around and take samples. It was a miracle they didn't find his broken core, which was hidden deep behind his heart.

The cuts on his torso were being held together by surgical staples; no doubt any stitches or glue dissolved when in contact with his blood. His skin was flushed, puckered, and oozed green. The stab wound was fresher and looked nastier than what Lunch Lady could cook up. It was probably infected. He most likely would have scars even as a ghost. Frostbite once told him that wounds to the soul were the hardest to heal, and Danny didn't see himself getting over this anytime soon.

He laid his head back, staring at the smooth ceiling. A whine built in his throat. Why did everything have to hurt? He just wanted to go home.

But where was home?

His home was gone.

He had nothing to return to.

His parents pretty much disowned him the moment they sold him to the GIW.

The whine turned into a quiet sob, and he let himself sit there and shake. All he had ever done was try to be a good son to his parents, a good friend to Sam and Tucker, and a good brother to Dani and Jazz. Why did it have to be up to him to save others? Sure, it was kind of fun, but the stress of protecting both humans and ghosts got to Danny fast. The others didn't understand. No one understood. And now they never will because Danny was gone and had no home.

And there was that heavy pain again. His core became impossibly cold, uncomfortable against his human heart. It was pulling at his skin and at his bones. He gasped and cried, balling up the bandages in his fist. Was his chest caving in? His core felt like it was trying to turn him inside out and tear him apart.

Why was no one there to help him? Why wasn't he good enough to be saved? Was it because he couldn't save that little girl? Were his failures finally catching up to him? He'll do better, he promises...

Desiree must have heard his silent pleas. The door to his room opened, and a single man entered. It took a moment to recognize him through his tears, but Danny eventually saw that he was the same man who had soothed him to sleep previously.

"Ra's al Ghul," Danny managed. The man nodded to him, coming closer to stare at Danny while he writhed on the bed.

"You are having another panic attack."

"C-can't-"

"The doctors say you have lungs once more. Use them."

"It hurts-"

"Then let it hurt," Ra's didn't look away from Danny. He was cold but not disgusted. He expected Danny to be strong enough to handle this himself. "You are my Heir now; either embrace the pain or let go of what torments you. Become stronger."

"I can't!" Danny sobbed. His shoulders shook with the effort it took to speak. "They'll come back-"

Ra's firmly said, "They shall not."

"You don't know that! I'll be cut up again!"

"You are not from this world, Phantom. Whatever torments you cannot follow."

The words slowly sunk into his brain. The weight was lifted off his chest for a moment. Another world? He wasn't in his home dimension? The GIW didn't exist here? His parents weren't waiting around the corner with a bone saw and handcuffs?

That was great, but that also meant he truly was alone now.

There was no way for him to find his way back, was there?

The pressure from his core lessened, and his body stopped trying to eat itself. His chest expanded again, allowing him to breathe properly through choked sobs and broken groans. He clenched his teeth, trying to stop the tears. He really was useless.

"You are not useless, Phantom." Ra's had a hard light in his eyes. "As mentioned before, you are an al Ghul now, one of my grandsons, no matter what you were previously. You are very valuable to the League now, and I refuse to let you go."

Danny sniffed. "I can't offer you much," he said. "I remember that Undergrowth promised you power and knowledge, but I'm practically a high school dropout, and I'm so weak I can barely lift my head."

"So you shall regain your strength. I have lived a long time, grandson, and I shall live even longer. Your recovery will be swift when compared to the erosion of time."

"Mr. al Ghul..." Danny said defeatedly. His throat felt thick from all the crying. "I couldn't even keep my town safe. All I'm good for is killing kings and pissing people off. I don't want to bring you that kind of shame."

Ra did not show any signs of his satisfaction with Danny's words, but Danny could taste it in the air. "So you were a warrior, yes?"

"I-uh, sort of? I'm a ghost, and I died two years ago. Ghosts fight for every reason and no reason. I kinda had to learn on my feet or risk getting Ended."

"A warrior who cannot die. A man who has the will to act." Ra's appraised him like a prized cow. "Yes, I shall be able to use you, child. The al Ghul legacy shall never die out if you become the Demon's Head. Phantom al Ghul is a...fitting name, I suppose."

Danny wrinkled his nose. "I don't know what half of that means, but okay. And my name isn't really Phantom; that's just my title and hero name. My real name is Danny."

"Then, Daniel-"

"Danny!"

"Daniel, now that your tears have stopped, let me call for refreshments and fresh bandages. We must discuss the Gardener's contract and your usefulness in great detail."

Danny sighed. He was calmer, but now he had to do an Ancient's magic paperwork? He'd rather let his core swallow him whole.

At least someone needed him again.

-

The group followed Jazz’s decision without a second thought and stepped through the giant portal alongside her. Luckily, it led right to the edge of the In-Between, where Clockwork and a few others resided in their individual spaces. Jazz yelped as she realized there was no solid surface to land on and flipped around in the air uncontrollably. Sam and Tucker had the same fate. All of them kind of bobbed around like ducks in the water before Danielle sighed, gathered them all up with some rope from Tucker’s pack, and hauled them along in the vague direction of Clockwork’s tower.

For a space called Long Now, it didn't take very long to reach the tower, even with Dani hauling along three passengers. Everyone was pretty quiet during the ride, still processing what they had seen in the underground facility. It was a little strange. None of them felt disgust or fear at Danny's actions, but anger and sadness at what he was forced to endure. Not once did they consider abandoning him, even though others might have shied away from his monstrous outburst.

Jazz wondered what Clockwork could possibly say to them that would make the whole thing better. She just wanted to see Danny. She wanted to sit down with him and watch shitty kid's movies while they huddled under that one big quilt her parents had. The one that was gifted to them as a wedding gift and the one they added to when something important happened. She felt horrible thinking about it now.

Jazz would probably never see that quilt again. And if she did, she would probably burn it.

"We're here," Dani quietly announced, untethering the group from her body as they touched Clockwork's island. Long Now was a special place even in the In-Between. The tower's foundations were in varying stages of decay, and much like its owner, the building warped from looking good as new to 'about to fall over' kind of old right before their eyes. Everything felt so fragile.

They entered the lower entrance, climbing a spiral staircase past rows and rows of clocks lining the walls. Everything was ticking out of sync, which usually annoyed Jazz to no end. Right now, she couldn't care less.

Reaching the top had a lack of fanfare. One minute they were passing the biggest fucking grandfather clock they'd ever seen, and the next, they were in Clockwork's main room at the top of the tower, facing the old ghost himself.

Clockwork didn't even look at them. He seemed exhausted.

"We're here," Jazz announced. "Tell us what you know."

"No greetings, Jasmine? I thought you raised Danny to have manners, so where are yours?"

"Locked behind the walls of Fentonworks. Tell us what you know, Clockwork, or I'll break everything here." She snarled. It wasn't an empty threat, and everyone knew it.

"Please, Clockwork," Tucker added. "We saw your message. Where's Danny?"

Dani started crying into Sam's shoulder. "Where's my brother?" The ghost girl sobbed. "I want to see Danny!"

Clockwork sighed. He was aging rapidly, growing wrinkles as they watched. "Daniel is safe, for now. I hid him in another world. However, the flow of time has changed. New paths are being forged. If things continue as they are, Daniel will become something worse than Dan."

Danielle muffled another sob.

"Daniel did something I did not expect while having his rampage in Yellowstone. It will take a delicate hand to make sure his actions do not cause him to go down the wrong path."

"What did he do?"

Clockwork looked them each in the eye. His eyes were glassy and blank, like the face of a new watch, but his sincerity was enough to reach them. "He sealed off the Realms."

Tucker choked. "I'm sorry, he wHAT??"

"Daniel, in his explosion of sudden power, sealed off the Infinite Realms from your home world's influence. Only the power of an Ancient can break that barrier now. The only portal still open is the one located in Fentonworks, protected by the strongest shield your mortal world has to offer. Vortex had to be sent out to collect ghostlings who didn't return in time. By sealing off the Realms, Daniel effectively declared they were under his protection and claimed the title 'Guardian' since only Guardians have the right to seal off worlds."

Jazz's mind was spinning. "He...sealed off our world. Did he do it on purpose?"

Clockwork shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not. This was a decision made by Fate alone. He was simply the strongest power source available that was also willing to defend the Realms to his End. The Realms responded in kind and claimed him as Guardian. That is a title and a burden he will share forever."

"Oh, god..." Jazz sat heavily on the floor, reeling from the shock. Dani left Sam's shoulder and crumpled into her lap, still crying. Tucker and Sam also offered each other comfort, leaning on each other as Clockwork's words sunk in. "So, what happens to him? Where is he now? What future do we have to avoid?"

Clockwork waved his staff, summoning a few large clocks with reflective surfaces. The clockfaces glitched and changed to show different pictures of Danny, all doing various things at different stages in his life. One had Danny laughing with a group of strangers. Another had him shaking hands with a green-skinned man. A third was him sitting in a hospital bed, getting stabbed in the chest. They cycled through different pictures and videos, and it was hard to look away.

"This is the future we must avoid." Clockwork motioned to the smallest clock, which showed a furious Danny screaming into the vacuum of space, tears pouring down his face. A large rip into the Realms tore open from his Wail, and the stars surrounding him started to get sucked in.

"If this future comes true, Daniel will destroy not only your home world but the Realms as a whole," The Ancient explained. "Because of his new link to the Realms, no one will be able to take the title of Guardian from him. He will become a destroyer and tear apart every universe and every timeline. Everything will just...End."

"That's horrible," Sam whispered. "What's the tipping point?"

Again, Clockwork looked them deep in their eyes. "Your betrayals."

"WHAT??" Danielle screeched, whipping around.

"You betray him by dying, Danielle. You melt in his arms and ask why he didn't save you. Samantha, you betray him by leaving him. Your home world is never unsealed and you can't stand not being able to see your grandmother again. Tucker, you betray him by lying to him. You say you're on his side but end up stabbing him in the back for a 'good cause.' Jasmine, you betray him by acting just like your parents." Jazz felt tears prick her eyes, but Clockwork kept going. "You see the monster he has become and can't look past it. The four of you betraying him would be his last straw, and Daniel would rather tear apart the universe than be reminded of you four ever again. And so he does."

Sam protested, "We would never!"

"You wouldn't." Clockwork agreed. "But you can, and in some ways, you already have. That is how time works. If you do not want to bring about this end, you must actively fight against this destiny like Daniel has fought against Dan."

Tucker whipped out his PDA, already taking notes. "What's the game plan, then? I would rather eat Dash's underwear than stab Danny in the back. If I have to throw hands with an evil version of myself from the future, I'm willing to do that, too."

Clockwork smiled at them for the first time since their arrival. "That was the right response," he told Tucker. "You're already taking a step away from that future. But for the best ending for everyone, all four of you will need to connect with the Realms as well."

"But we don't have the same power that Danny does."

"No, but your will is just as strong as his. Prove to the Realms that you're willing to fight, protect, and love just as much as Daniel. Become his support. Do it right, follow in his footsteps, and the Realms shall accept you with open arms. You will be bound together as a family for eternity."

The four looked at each other. Jazz gently wiped away the remainder of Dani's tears as they pondered over the ghost's words. Connecting with the Realms would probably mean giving up some amount of their humanity, especially if it truly was a forever thing. They might follow in Danny's footsteps a little too closely-but for their friend and brother? They would do anything.

"Fuck eternity!"

"Tell us what to do."

"We'll always be there for Danny."

"I don't plan on eating any underwear, but I will fight evil me if that's what it takes."

Clockwork shriveled up, folding in on himself several times before unfolding into a child, like a phoenix (but without the fire). He looked less exhausted now, less like the promise of the End was no longer hovering over his shoulder. "Become the Guardian's Shadow, Danielle. Take up his mantle while he is away and keep the peace in his stead. Be the Guardian's Sword, Samantha. Be at the front of each fight and kill when he cannot. The Guardian's Shield will be you, Tucker. Your wish to protect those around you will come true, and you will gain the power to shield them from harm. And Jasmine-"

Jazz held her breath.

"You will have the most difficult job. You will be the Guardian's Scepter. His symbol of power. You will work behind the scenes to stage events that shall work in his favor no matter what."

She released her breath, surprised. "A scepter? Like the symbol of royalty? But wasn't the position of King given to another?"

"In sorts. Daniel helped elect a council to rule the Realms and refused to be a part of it. However, you shall be his Scepter, only wielded in times of need. You will take the dark and harsher jobs that shouldn't be brought to life. You will pull the strings to ensure the timelines stay together, and he never strays from the path."

"How would I do that?"

"You need to become my apprentice."

-

After Jason's statement about coming to see Ra's in person, the whole Batfamily blew up. Words were said in person and over text, and Damian was too exhausted at the time to get a word in edgewise, so let Jason argue for him. Eventually, Bruce had to take a moment away from his League duties and settle the matter over a conference call. After debating, he allowed Damian to return to the League of Assassins, provided Dick went with him. The man was already on a leave of absence from his job to cover for Batman, and he could keep a level head when dealing with the Demon's Head.

So off they went as soon as Alfred gave Damian the all-clear. Strangely enough, he had no side effects from being struck by fucking lightning. Well, almost none. He did feel flush every once in a while, and his veins burned like there was liquid battery acid in them, but other than that, he was fine! No, he didn't need another cold press, Alfred! It was only a few hours by plane; he'd be fine!

And honestly, with the news that Eth Alth’eban was on lockdown, Damian thought it would be harder to enter the city. Undetected, at least. Sadly, they were found out immediately and had a group waiting for them as they touched down. As soon as he stepped off the Batplane onto the private airstrip in Yemen, he was quickly surrounded by the 'welcoming' entourage of assassins. They took his bags, herding him toward a black car as Dick jogged to keep up with them. Damian was glad they didn't do a pat-down in their rush; he'd hidden the tablet under his clothes just for this purpose.

"Hey!" his brother shouted. "How did you guys even know we were here?"

"This is a League matter, Nightwing." The head of the group, a one-eyed man named after the god Balor, whom Damian recognized as part of his grandfather's elite, barely turned to look at Grayson and dismissed him entirely.

“No, this is a family matter,” Dick leaned against the door of the car, preventing Balor from opening it and shoving Damian in. They stared at each other long and hard.

“You are not an al Ghul.”

“Damian was nearly killed by a storm demon and told there was a new Heir who is somehow connected to said storm demon. I’m not leaving him alone.”

Balor considered the options before him, glancing at Damian. His one good eye assessed him. The boy simply raised a brow. “I’d prefer it if my baba came with us.”

The assassin’s face twitched, which was the equivalent of a snort of disgust, but gave in to Dick’s demands and herded them both into the car. Two more assassins slid in on either side of them while Balor took the passenger seat. The driver barely glanced at the airport security as they drove the vehicle off the tarmac and into the middle of the desert.

The drive felt long. Damian held a stoic face whenever Balor looked at him and refused to engage in any conversation with Dick. Even when the AC was turned off, everyone started sweating, and his brother was threatening to sing show tunes until they turned it back on.

He ended up singing, of course. Damian just zoned out as his brother started warbling through the entire soundtrack of Hairspray. Truly, the man had questionable taste. For their credit, the assassins made it through the entire performance of Hairspray and halfway through High School Musical before the driver slowly leaned over, never taking their eyes off the desert landscape, and flicked the AC back on to blast. They lasted longer than Bruce would have.

Dick still finished the High School Musical soundtrack despite getting what he wanted. No one ever said he did things half-assed.

Finally, Damian spotted the maze of canyons that housed the Assassin City, Eth Alth’eban. Damian wasn’t sure if his elder brother had ever been there before, but the tight hold he had on his hand suggested that Dick either had very complicated memories of the place or was anxious about being in enemy territory. He wasn’t really interested in asking.

As they approached, the main gate was large and imposing. The sun was high in the sky now and beat down on them to reflect all the minute details that had been carved into the gates. They were gorgeous pieces of work, ones that Ra’s was no doubt very proud of. Guards were there to welcome them, examining the vehicle from top to bottom to ensure nothing strange was being brought in from the outside world. Damian glared at his brother when the man leaned forward to take the attention off of him and the hidden tablet, loudly asking the outside guards when they could go in yet.

One of them narrowed their eyes at Dick. “An extra?” They hissed in Arabic. “This was not approved by the Demon’s Head.”

Balor jerked a thumb at Damian. “His choice,” he responded simply. “The Bats are never alone. The Head is aware of this." Since when? They never called ahead. Damian felt the burn of lighting in his veins again. He caught Balor's eye in the rearview mirror and realized that the man's eye color was much lighter than it was supposed to be. It was shifting between gray and blue, like a cloud, and stared at him with unusual intensity.

Fuck. Of course, the secret guard that was mentioned in the contract. It must have gone into effect when the Navigator returned to wherever he came from. How did he know they would end up in the Eth Alth'eban?

Whatever was said next, Damian missed, but eventually, the gates opened, and the car was let through. Dick was quiet once more, staring at the lush city, probably trying to figure out how to do a backflip off the tall buildings. They headed straight for the palace that was past the training grounds. Most people were taking a noon daybreak, so the grounds were empty when the car pulled up next to the designated drop-off point.

Balor motioned for the group to leave the car, and the two assassins tugged on Dick’s arm painfully, practically dragging him along and not allowing any room for him to wander off. Damian wasn’t touched, but he was no less shuffled in the same direction. They went up the steps, through hallways lined with servants and fountains, following a path Damian recognized easily. They were headed to the medical wing.

His mind raced. Was he ready to meet this ‘Phantom’ fellow? Would he insist on fighting to the death to prove his worth? Had his mother gotten his message and made it here before him? So many questions ran through his head, yet this was not the time to ask them. Damian bit his tongue and instead played the part of the perfect al Ghul. Silent, deadly, and proud.

Balor was leading the way. He studied the older man's back carefully, looking for any other inconsistencies in his behavior. There were none, except for a single cloud symbol stamped into his neck that shimmered the same color as Vortex. Did this mean he was possessed? Was he another one of the Navigator's blessed? Did Damian also have the same symbol? No one else seemed to notice the mark, so Damian put it in the back of his mind. He'd have Dick check his neck later, just in case.

They'd reached the end of the medical wing now, where Damian knew the rooms were sealed off for quarantined patients.

Indeed, a pair of guards stood in front of the extra set of doors. Balor nodded to the guards and pushed through without stopping. The quarantined corridor was short, with only six rooms, three on each side. Five were marked with a little green flag by the door, indicating their vacancy. The sixth, the farthest on the left, had a little red flag displayed. Damian pushed his way to the front of the group and beelined for the door. This was it. Soon, he'd have some answers.

His grandfather opened the door before he could knock. The al Ghuls looked at each other, noting how much had changed since they had last seen each other. His grandfather looked…well. He was healthy, and there were no visible injuries. His clothes were immaculate but simpler than his usual ornate robes. It felt like Ra's was dressed for a close social visit, not for taking over the world and planning murder.

"Damian," His grandfather was as short as ever, however. "You are late."

"Good to see you too, old man," Dick snarked. Ra's ignored him, waving a hand to Balor, who promptly shut the door again before Dick could walk through after Damian. The two were to wait in the hallway, apparently.

Damian moved further past his grandfather, forgoing the greeting. His eyes were glued to the hospital bed. Draped in rich blankets and wrapped in soft cotton bandages, a boy around his age was sitting up and staring at him with green eyes similar to his own. He was holding a glass of Lazarus water, raised to his lips like he was about to drink it. Honestly, if it wasn't for his incredibly pale skin and wispy white hair, the boy could have been his-

"Holy shit, we look exactly the same!" The boy lowered the glass, staring at Damian in wonder. His voice was double-layered, like the Navigator's, and it grated on Damian's mind with the sounds of screaming and creaking ice. "Are you Mr. al Ghul's other grandson? This is so freaky!"

Ah, so this was Phantom.

-

[helpolnix]

how do I know if the god will talk to me/want to work with me?

I feel as though it’s a big misconception that you need a god’s permission to worship them for whatever reason when you absolutely do not.

Finding out if a god would like to work with you however, may be a bit harder for most. You can use divination to ask. Literally anything can be divination as long as you can assign meanings to whatever you’re using. Playing cards, dice, smoke or even fucking clouds. You can always ask for a sign that would be something you’ll understand. There’s no shame in that.

I myself use oracle cards and tarot. I’m working on using runes too as I think they’ll be helpful to my practice. But I also often look at the clouds for a while and my brain will sometimes make something out of nothing. Coincidence or not, it helps!

Just reach out to them in any way you know how or what feels most comfortable to you. Don’t be afraid <3