#fuck the ancient one

[theravequeen]

Ranted about this guy to my discord server but they got distracted---so Tumblr gets to hear about it instead.

Yeah he's my Dr. Strange dragon.

'Short' rundown on his lore: (A TW FOR DEATH!)

When he was little, his father left and his mother died. (Sounds like the beginning of hamilton----) leaving him with just his older brother and little sister. (Older brother currently unnamed, little sister is named Mirrordawn.)

Soon enough, his older brother dissapeared, presumed to be dead, so Strangesight was left to take care of Mirrordawn.

Eventually, he was found by a night/silkwing by the name of Runeweaver (image below)

She takes him and his sister to a large palace carved into the uncharted mountains past the sky kingdom.

There he meets a dragon known only as The Ancient One. The Ancient One (just TAO from here on out) tells Strangesight that this is a school of magic, for gifted animus dragons to learn how to control and maintain their magic.

Runeweaver and TAO quickly take Strangesight under their wings as an apprentice, Mirrordawn being watched over by some of the caretakers of the school.

One day, Strangesight, Mirrordawn, and a few other dragonets were playing outside on a frozen lake, when suddenly the ice breaks and Mirrordawn falls through. After a sickening few seconds, a young icewing dives in after her and pulls her out, but she already looks worse for wear. The other dragonets sort of leave one by one, leaving Strangesight with Mirrordawn.

Someone must've told TAO, because he shows up. Strangesight begs for TAO to heal Mirrordawn, but TAO refuses, telling Strangesight that if he uses his animus magic to heal Mirrordawn, she will become corrupted and evil, and eventually the magic will rot her away.

To Strangesight's horror and despair, he is forced to let Mirrordawn die.

After the funeral, Strangesight spends a lot of time in the healer's cave, learning all he ever can to save any other dragon before the only options are animus magic or death.

I haven't decided if this happens before or after Mirrordawn's death yet, but at some point, TAO and Runeweaver get in a huge fight, both accusing each other of being a traitor to the school. It ends with TAO killing Runeweaver right in front of Strangesight.

He assures Strangesight that Runeweaver was trying to steal magic for herself, a sure sign of a dark and evil dragon.

Still young, still naive, Strangesight believes TAO, and leaves runeweaver's body, a sickening feeling settling in his heart and stomach.

Years later, Strangesight perfects his magic and becomes TAO's top student and a great doctor.

Eventually he does find out about all of TAO's lies and deceptions, but I think that's best saved for a different post, if this one gets attention :3c

[bizarrelittlemew]

ofmd x tumblr

[artgletic]

case study of the self-identified god

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 204

Danny is on a bit of a roadtrip. An accidental roadtrip and might be getting chased by some sort of assassins or whatever they were. Look, it’s not his fault, he was injured and out of it! How was he supposed to know that the Pits or whatever the people were yelling about were important. Or sapient. 

Actually, he should like… “How do you even know how to drive if you’re like, thousands of years old??” That was not what he was going to ask his current roadtrip buddy, but maybe he had a concussion. 

Ectoplasm-green eyes turned towards him from the road, framed by a mixture of black and white hair that shifted like his own. “You most likely don’t want to know the answer to that, actually.” Okay, but what if he did, huh? 

“Okay, but where are we going, because I don’t think this is my dimension…”  

They shrugged, their clothing shifting with the motion. Ha, ninja clothing for a sapient pool of ecto, or whatever it had been. “I am, not exactly familiar to things that were not known to those thrown into my blood, so we’re, I believe the saying is going in blind?”

“Oh. Okay. Y’know you’re kind of nice for an ecto-death pit thing.”

“... I am going to pretend I didn’t hear that, child.”  

“Okay. I’m going to go to sleep because my head hurts.” 

[my-name-is-apollo]

I saw a Troilus post and that made me have Feels™ all over again. Something that particularly upsets me is the image of Troilus being dragged by his hair to Apollo's altar:

Like even putting aside the fact that Troilus, apart from being Apollo's son, is also a suppliant to Apollo here and to harm anyone in a god's temple is already an unforgivable violation of the sacredness of the place-

Troilus was a little boy or a youth at the most. His hair was most definitely sacred to him. It would have been cut and dedicated to Apollo, the protector of boys, if he had reached his adulthood. But he got dragged by his hair to his death, as if he was an animal being sacrificed to the god. Achilles didn't simply kill Troilus, he deliberately violated everything Troilus would have held sacred to him - his hair, his body, his god's temple...

Achilles had previously killed Tenes as well, another son of Apollo, despite Thetis very clearly warning him not to do so. So all of this was him knowingly spitting in Apollo's face, if you think about it.

[howhow326]

Congratulations Kaos, you officially have the most accurate adaptation of Hera in 2,000 years because she is actually scary.

Edit: This post was lowkey a mistake but also I'm here for it lol

Ok so when I made this I didn't know that the writers made Hera cheat with Poseidon and I agree that is bad/inaccurate/not very demure and mindful.

I stand by my original statement that Hera screwing that one girl was good and yall can fight me on it

[sapphicdib]

I might have said this before but the nature of the iterator’s very existence is honestly horrifying. They do not die easily, and that is an understatement. Even in submerged superstructure, as the rain approaches, Moon’s siren still wails, with no one to alert but herself of her impending fate. A siren, crushed beneath hundreds of millions of pounds of water and metal, is still functional, screaming for no one. In the Saint campaign, parts of Pebbles’ structure are still active, producing steam and heat deep within despite being mangled beyond recognition, despite being fucking eaten alive. Do you think Sliver endured the same? No Significant Harassment? Suns? Chasing Wind? Without proper maintenance, it’s inevitable, and all they can do is sit idly and listen to their structures creak and groan, wondering when they’ll come crashing down.

An iterator’s death is not swift, it is agonizing, a drawn out whimper, a last punishment for daring to defy their creators. They weren’t designed to transcend, and it drives them mad.

[mumblesplash]

recently my parents have been sorting through old stuff because their basement flooded, so my mom keeps sending me pictures she finds from when i was a little kid and after a while i was like hey uh mom. these are cute and all but is it just me or does a deep and unsettling Knowledge beyond human comprehension seem to lurk behind my eyes in literally every single one of these? and she was just like ‘yeah your eyes always looked like that it was kinda creepy 🥰’

[pinkd3mon]

Dedede at the end of revenge of the king

Day 4 of drawing random kirby shitpost for every day of October

[an-established-butt-dent]

'Harellan'

Solas: Dragon age

Mixed media on paper

[nevertheless-moving]

unable to stop dwelling on the discworld trouser leg of time where, in the penultimate fight scene in Nightwatch, Carcer manages to kill teenage Sam Vimes.

Which means that the future that Duke Vimes came from can no longer exist, which means he can’t go home. Meanwhile you’ve got a bunch of history monks with stored up temporal energy, a prepared space outside of time, and the need to do some desperate damage control before the Auditors get involved. Death shows up, reality is unweaving, Sam is reading Carcer his discworld miranda rights because what else is he supposed to do.

and finally, with little other option, the monks de-age Sam so he fits the time period and send him back out into the fray.

(they didn't call it deageing of course. His memory is hazy, splintered during that terrible in between moment, They....took the time out of him? Sanded away the edges of his self for a terrible, workable fit? It...wasn't a good feeling.)

Just—damn. Sam Vimes having to live his whole crapsack life over again, but this time as his disillusioned-reillusioned, unwillingly-character-developed, noir-epic, Duke of Ankh, Commander Sir Samuel Vimes self. 

Younger (Older? He's never felt so Old, His steps so Childlike, reality twisting in his gut like one of Dibbler's pies) Sam Vimes walking around in a haze after the revolution. Desperate to go home, knowing he can’t. Wanting to drink. Knowing he can’t.

The whole precinct feels pity, he really took Keel’s death hard, hardly speaks except to do his job. Eventually he has to grit his teeth and start being present, because what else is there to do?

Resists the urge to drink until Colon takes the whole watch out to celebrate because -he’s going to be a father!

Come on Sammy, one drink won’t kill you— and after the first drink he’s cracking jokes and after the second hes smiling and after the third hes honestly the life of the party and sometime after that he’s crying about how he was going to be a father and my wife would be ashamed if she saw me drinking like this and— 

Oh shit, Did anyone else know he had a wife?? A PREGNANT wife??? What—aren’t you like 12—no you're 17 now aren't you but when did—

You guys n’ver met ’er—oh gods none if you ev’n know ‘er, is jus’ me...

What—when did you lose—

I lost her the same damn day I los’ ev’rythin else, whadya think...bleeding Carcer...the fuckin revolution...

So! That! Sam only vaguely remembers the night, but rumors travel faster than light on the disc, so by the next day the whole damn city knows about poor Sam brung low by the loss of his poor, tragic, pregnant wife, so young to be a widower, and the Seamstresses nod because they already knew, don’t ask them how, somethings you just have to know in that trade.

And his mother—I don’t know, sue me, I’m a time travel fiend but there’s something deeply intriguing about a man meeting his dead parent, who is somewhat younger than him, and stepping into the old relationship like a badly fitting thing that's supposed to fit well. She would know, right? How would she deal with her son’s impossible grief? Maybe she wouldn’t know—he spent most of the time out of the house, running with different street gangs, maybe he avoids her until she dies and lives with the guilt twice over. God, we don’t even know her name. There’s just so much narrative and emotional potential that I don’t even know where to start.

When he’s on duty, which is most time - it’s agonizing because at first he remembers cases, saves lives that would have been lost. But the more time passes, the hazier his memory because in the original timeline he was becoming an alcoholic. Fuck! A kid dies and he could have saved her if he hadn’t been such a drunk, if he had just remembered where the asshole lived, but it’s all a haze, and he wants to drown out his guilt, but that’s what caused this in the first place.

Good young Sammy, who spends his rare off-time in dusty libraries (and yes, the irony that he’s apparently Carrot now is not lost on him) reading gods-only-know.

It’s not like he can ask the wizards for help, cutthroat and vicious as they are now in the not-so-distant-past.

Good young Sam, who...talks to the Broken Drum’s pet Bouncer like he’s a real person and not a dumb rock? That’s a bit weird, but he’s a bit of a funny guy.

Good old Sam, who believed the testimony of the dwarf who said the humans were trying to rob him and let the dwarf go??

the PROBLEMS this man would cause, good grief. Can you imagine a moderately progressive middle aged man with some degree of begrudging diversity and equity training that he did, for all his sins, pay attention to, suddenly going back to like, 1990, going back just 30 years, and going...oh damn this is kind of fucked up, no man you can’t say that, holy shit.

Except Sam’s lived through even more rapidly shifting social moroes! There’s no seamstress guild, there’s no women allowed inside the university, there’s no black ribboner’s society. People hunted trolls for their teeth! But Sam can’t just unlearn everything, and he can’t shut up, and he has no real luck and anyway he would absolutely get himself (temporarily) fired.

FUCK. Sam has no idea what to do with that. None. Zero clue. Wanders around in a haze until that dwarf he saved from police brutality finds him and insists on repaying the debt. No, he insists, do you have any idea what debt means to a dwarf?

“Sort-of?” he replies hesitantly, and that honest admission of incomplete knowledge shows a hell of a lot more respect and understanding than any self proclaimed dwarf-expert ever did.

Gets a job as a surface man, hauling rocks into the city. It’s backbreaking work, but, in true Discworld fashion, it’s also one hell of a workout (again the irony of being Carrot is not lost him. he freezes for a minute while hauling a rock cart, when he remembers he's technically Lost Nobility too, in a strict sense, but someone curses at him in the street and he's comfortingly grounded)

And here is where this au slides into a SPECTACULAR romantic comedy, BEAR WITH ME. Because in his time on the Watch he’s already done noir, action adventure, war story, detective who dunnit, psychological horror, but guards guards only allowed him to be a romance protagonist in an extremely limited context.

Give me righteous, twenty-something-looking, can’t-say-he-doesn’t-have-style, young Sam Vimes, not an alcoholic,  being fed three square meals a day by his dwarven forced found family, hauling rocks. He is startled to find him bumping his head on a low hanging bar that he doesn’t think used to be there, eventually realizing that he’s an inch or two taller than he remembers. Huh. Guess all that bearhuggers really did stunt his growth.

Still doesn’t get what some of the looks from women he’s getting are about, sure, he’s dirty but so is everyone else. Fine, he took his shirt off, but it’s hot out, there’s far wrinklier than him hauling heavy loads, get a life. 

Happens to glance in the Ankh one day when it’s particularly slow and shiny and is startled to realize that he might be turning heads for a different reason. Oh. Right, not that he was ever a heartbreaker, but he did alright for himself... when he was a younger and his face hadn’t been broken so many times. Which...it isn't now.

Is mildly disturbed by the revelation.

Especially once things blow over at the precinct and what with high mortality rates, he ends up with getting hired again. The boys are delighted to have him back, nevermind that he’s an odd one, noone is ever quite in your corner like Vimsey, absence makes the heart fonder, no one else works that hard, and he’s not even competition for promotion. All around great guy, we should set him up with somebody and just, no.

It just keeps getting worse! He’s literate! He’s a feminist! He believes abuse victims! He’s got a tragic backstory! He’s unreasonably good in a fistfight! He’s kind to animals! Word gets around that there’s a good man on the watch and he’s just waiting for a good woman to come snap him up. The widower excuse doesn’t hold people off completely, and for some it’s its own sort-of appeal. 

Things REALLY become stressful after he rescues that carriage full of noblewoman.

What’s he supposed to do? Let them get robbed? Or worse? Chasing down and beating up 10 goons is as easy as beating up one, when they’re that stupid, getting separated like that, drunk and distracted, and he knows these streets better than anyone, really it’s nothing. And oh lord he’s Modest too.

I mean, they were genuinely greatful, as genuine as people like that are capable of being, the skill having grown rusty. And then there is something...magnetic about the man. An air of command.

So, soon enough you get Lady Marigold of Marigrave calling on Treckle Road for that gallant young officer who rescued them, she really needs to thank him. And Viscountess Elanor Thitzferal specifically requesting that he guard her at her next soiree. And Baroness Julieta van Shoeholten insisting that he come to her home while her husband’s away, for... manly protection.

Aaaah just zero sympathy from the guys. None. 'It’s become a competition, they’re just trying to see who can get me into bed first, it’s like I’m a piece of meat, you can’t send me sir, the Marquess greeted me in a nightee last time you made me go to—' and 'small gods Vimes are you even listening to yourself, shut the hell up'.

Simultaneous to this, (again this is several years into the timeline) swamp dragon accessories come into style. Which means abandoned swamp dragons scrounging on the street. Vimes takes one back to his apartment, blows his paycheck on dragon medicine, and eventually, heart in his chest, brings it to the Ramkin estate. The sunshine orphanage doesn’t even exist yet and he’s just standing outside the gates like an idiot, what is he thinking. Turns around, but her carriage is pulling up and—

well. they meet. it's cute. he's never felt so young. he's never felt so old, too old for her, too poor—

and certainly her thoughts linger too long on the awkward, kindly, handsome young commoner, but is it any wonder she doesn't quite connect it to the stern, dangerous, sexy young guard the ladies seem to be in some quiet, cuthroat competition over?

i have this gorgeous, absurd scene in my head in which Vimes is strong armed into standing guard at some high society soiree and one of the pushiest ladies insists he dance with here, or, if he prefers, if he's not confident about his skills, he can dance with her in-private at her home and he’s like [grinding teeth, looking for a way out, seeinf one] “I would be honored to dance with you.”

Steps right into some ultra-complex dance with multiple partner swaps (she never thought he'd pick this one, devilishly intimidating to one not strictly trained, and you barely spend anytime with your first partner).

But he does alright. Better than alright, for a common man, sometimes misstepping but his hands and feet always end up where they need to be. Raises several eyebrows part way into the song because he's throuwing in some slightly scandalous, no innovative, extra lifts and twirls that wouldn't become fashionable for another decade or two. Who even is that guy? Some out of towner? No, no he's in a guards uniform...how very strange.

Gets to Sybll and she's used to embarrassment during these dances, she tries to get out of them when she can... but can't always. Men awkwardly skipping the lifts, or worse, trying and failing. But him — oh it's him, the one who helped little Erold, and looked at her like—like—well like she was someone beautiful. And he's doing it again, and he's strong and there's a quiet moment where she's in the air, they lock eyes, and the rest of the room melts away.

And then the partners change again, the moment ended.

Just...living throught it all again. To the left, a dance he almost knows the steps to, throwing others off balance with erratic moves , honest mistakes, and delibrate stepping on toes. Improvising. Ruining. Improving. Getting far, far too much attention.

Hes almost excited when the first assassains start coming after him. It's like a hobby.

Everyone tells him he should get a hobby.

Interactions with young vetinari...I don't have the energy to write it all down, the slow circling in on each other, both burning with the need to fix the city, save it, their city.

needless to say he ends up fired again, life under real threat after offending some high lord.

Conveniently enough he has an employment opportunity- bodyguard to fucking Vetinari on his 'grand sneer.' The bastard knows vimes isn't what he seems, though sam is pretty sure that he doesnt know the exacts.

Vetinari hypothesis:(the ghost of keel? Keels son, with some hereditary curse? Or a larger spirit of justice possessing a string of unrelated souls? He knows things he shouldn't- mind reader? Fortune teller? Havelock once arranged for a wizard to bump into him on the street, the magical fool gave an odd double look and then muttered something about destiny looping in on itself giving him a headache. Destiny? Lost noble? And hes far too familiar with sybyl, one of the few bearable noblewomen in this city. And his thoughts on guilds, when havelock can trip him into speaking... Most of all, if hes reading him at all correctly (for all the mystery hes not that hard to read, unless thats a very clever cover) then it seems that behind those dark haunted eyes is Respect. Loyalty. For vetinari. What an interesting man. A puzzling asset. An intriguing threat. )

Did I mention the timeline is changing, healing slowly around the place where it was torn? Healing enough around scars to perhaps get some flexibility back, with some painful stretches and...massaging of said scar tissue?

And hes heading to unresting uberwald, a place where a werewolf pack still hunts humans and, truely unrelated but perhaps equally exhausting, an eldritch spirit of vengeance just might be looking to stretch its legs in a hapless vessel?

Opening drabble Vimes Vetinari Meta (Unwell) Scene from the Uberwald Grand Sneer

[heartsfortwotpot]

im borred take my ugly fucking object show host polycule. or dont i dunno

[ganondoodle]

(wip- OC)

felt like i needed to do one of my typical character (re)design things tm so i chose this lad who doesnt even have a name still, he will get his cool coat back dw uwu

idk if im making him more or less unique/interesting bc of how my OCs usually look these days ... he fits well to the other updated designs .. but maybe too well :/

(also not a demon but one of the ... animal/sea people like ki'ita, this lad isnt directly based on a specific one, just kinda ..tentacly)

[ohitslen]

Guess who had a little too much fun with the pathetic reincarnation AU idea :))

To summarize! WW gets reincarnated in a very distant future where humanity is more settled down in the planet. He remembers everything and decides to keep living his life as normally as he is able to. That is until he meets his neighbor when he moved to a new apartment.

(More below the cut)⬇️

He was an absolute weirdo of a guy who looked just like Vash in so many ways yet was so different in many others at the same time.

He pretends that his system isn’t going haywire every time he is around the man, the one that resembles someone he cared for so deeply in a life that wasn’t his but remembers all too well. He decides to pretend he doesn’t know Vash because he really doesn’t, not this one at least.

Meanwhile, Vash is going through a very trippy existential crisis for seeing Wolfwood again after what felt like dozens of centuries. This could clearly not be him however because, well, he knows why. So he pretends not to know him because wouldn’t that be weird if he acted like he did?

They avoid each other like the plague, the beautiful and horrible emotions that swarmed on their insides too much to bear just by the presence of the other. They could slip at any moment so it was better to evade the neighbor.

The thing here is, that life has never gone how they want it since ever.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[flamemons]