#patron gods

[bonesandthebees]

bee! new qsmp fic! it looks silly i love silly stuff so im gonna read this cause yes

okay first of all this start is very cool i love it the descriptions just ahhhh youre so good at writing like genuinely

all normal things tbh

idk fit the gods feels like a normal thing as well

just a small history

i love that kristin is the stable one according to phil

i dont know the newer eggs but empanada is such a cute name and em as a nickname is so surieje

TUBSTER!

tubbo is sooo silly

theyre so silly i love this bee

his hubby has arrived!

i love him just arguing with an invisible being and tommy is just like there

this was a very silly fic i very much enjoyed this bee keep being silly idk bye now :D

- 🪿

awww thank you I do go a little overboard with the descriptions sometimes lol so I'm glad they're appreciated

tbh yeah fit being surprised about the gods is funny considering he's literally talking to a guy with wings

in my head kristin is stable in the sense that her existence as a god is firmly cemented. unlike other gods her power almost never fluctuates and is very rarely effected by outside sources because death is constant and inevitable. kristin personality-wise is not stable that woman is a goof who finds it very funny to watch her angel get chased after by so many men on this weird island while he just wants to take care of his kids

the newer eggs are empanada, sunnysideup, and pepito! empanada is such a cute name for an egg right?? she said herself that people can call her em as a nickname

tubbo doesn't care if no one else can see tommy he can see tommy and he can see his god husband being annoying and fucking his shit up of course he's gonna argue with him

I'm glad you enjoyed!!

[anonymousfury]

religion

when I was young I was only exposed to christianity, aware of hardly any other religions, to the point where I still have trouble being comfortable as a witch

these things still feel ~taboo~ from the ingrained teachings that if it wasn't christian it was wrong and like my mom is still going to catch me (that's it's own trauma)

I know that with time these feelings will be more memory that reactionary

most of the time I wish I had other witches to befriend (nearby) that we could get together and craft-chat and bond over these things

right now I feel as if it's just my patrons and I, and eventually I want it to be my patrons, myself, and others <3

[sorry-i-forgot]

astarion: yeah my former master gave me these scars

my oath of vengeance paladin:

[aziraphale-is-a-cat]

DPxDC Warlock Batfamily

They're not warlocks in the traditional sense, no fancy spell work or obvious theming. In fact, most anyone less magically attune than John would just assume they were metas like anyone else on the team, but they weren't.

It took a while to notice, just passing off the magical fluctuations around them as the ebb and flow of the natural world, or maybe some residual curse vibes from Gotham (ew). But it was too consistent. When Batman slipped into the shadows it pulsed, and when Oracle seized control of nearby computers it surged. When Nightwing took his inhuman leaps into the air simply trusting that he would reach his lading point it soared and when that nightmare of a Robin brought a room to darkness it rested like a heavy weight on his shoulders.

They weren't individual users, their eclectically cohesive group structure was too uniform for that; but they weren't some family of sorcerers either, being quite obviously unrelated by blood save for a few. The most likely answer was that they were all warlocks in service to some common diety, taking on aspects of its power to enforce it's will upon the mortal world- and John really hoped it was a helpful entity, because they were in deep shit.

Peeling the partially liquefied tentacle off from across his chest, Constantine sat up and brought his hand up to cup his bruised face. He prayed to whatever was least likely to hold a grudge that their little hail Mary there had bought them enough time to perform a summoning.

"Hey Bat, get your patron on the phone, this is getting fucking Eldritch."

"What the hell are you talking about," Hal Jordan pushed himself out of the rubble with a massive green fist construct. "Bats isn't a magic user."

"Hm." Batman grunted as he picked bone shards out of his gauntlets. "I'll need to get something for the ritual."

Everyone present sat up to look at him like he'd grown another head, except Superman and Wonder Woman who seemed a little excited.

"I'm sorry, you're a magician?" The Flash pipes up from behind the ruins of an old altar, only to receive a level glare from his black clad coworker.

"Warlock."

"Oh."

Constantine grabbed onto some chains hanging from the precariously damaged ceiling, rising to his feet. "We don't have much time; that thing's off licking its wounds in space or something, but it'll be back. You go off and collect whatever artefact you have from wherever you hid it and I'll start drawing the circle, where are we pulling your Patron from?"

Batman nodded in agreement. "The Infinite Realms."

"Fucking Hell."

-

The Watch Tower was crowded when Batman returned flanked by two other members for his little hero coven, carrying a small case decorated with constellations and nebulae.

Wonder Woman stepped up to look at the container, obviously curious, but not touching it.

"It will be wonderful to see him again, Batman. After this is dealt with I hope to hear the tales of my sisters from beyond."

"He'll definitely be happy to chat after we're done," Nightwing commented. "I hear he's been training with Pandora."

Red Robin nodded to that, an exasperated look on his face as he likely anticipated a long and drawn out conversation about different kinds of swords. Amazons liked their blades.

John gave that idea some concideration, Amazonian ghosts probably get up to some killer fights without having to worry about, ya know, death. He called out to the Dark Knight, "I've got the circle done, now we just need your call."

The three of them walk over to the summoning circle unceremoniously carved into the watch tower floor, Batman narrowing his eyes at the damaged paneling but saying nothing otherwise. The Dark Knight opens the case in his hands and pulls out what appears to be a small model space station.

The Coven spread themselves evenly around the circumference of the circle and Batman begins the ritual. "Salve patrōnem, egō stellam vocō." He throws the model space station into the circle where it appeared to float as the symbols in the ground lit up.

Slowly, a figure formed in the center, first as hands holding the model and spreading out over its arms and to its body in the shape of a young boy. He seemed to be wearing a black rubber hazmat suit with white accents and green lichtenberg figures crawling up his left arm. White hair appeared and with it piercing green eyes that seemed to be fixed on the toy in his hands. A cape flowed out behind him less like fabric and more like the endless void of space littered with stars and a cold weight settled on the room.

"Damn B, y'all really fucked up the floor this time."

Red Robin snorted, "Nice to see you too, Danny."

[eyesthecolorofarson]

DpxDc demon twins AU where Danny is basically fishingarret on YouTube. If you haven’t seen him he’s this psychopath of a man that walks barefoot in Florida and other dangerous places like Australia and the Amazon and removing invasive species. He does this by picking them up with his bare hands. This man feels so fear. He willingly poked a wasp nest. He tackled a 15ft python. And every time he picks something up he says yoink. Danny ‘already dead’ Fenton being left in Florida instead of Ohio

[foldingfittedsheets]

Todays the day. I need to get a job, even if that jobs not in the gaming industry. So I’m heading to the library to print up a resume and apply at a little local chain of mattress stores.

The guy instantly liked me when I went in to do a secret shop for a competing store and offered to hire me on the spot so I figure if I can chat with him he’ll still like me enough to consider me.

[faerygardens]

I haven’t really talked about the news but I will say the one thing that’s been making me smile is people telling stories of Techno continuing to troll them in death, not only w him revealing that his name was actually Alex not Dave and the fucking death merch, but stories like Sophie’s and Jewish fans’ struggling while trying to light memorial candles (matches snapping, the candle taking forever to light or flickering out several times, etc), or like Wilbur’s where Techno visited him in his dreams to call him a loser for dreaming about Minecraft, I even had my own experience when I left the house to try and get my mind off things in which a crow sat in a tree branch right above my head and cawed loudly, interrupting my sad thoughts and only flew away after I smiled and sent a video of it to my brother, it’s just so like him to continue to troll people from beyond the grave and it makes me smile

[qsmpbutwithsignlanguage]

I see your 'QSMP players' irl romantic partners are patron gods that give them assistance in times of need' and your 'Tommy is Tubbo's patron god because of the marriage gag and Tubbo is very, very tired' and I raise you a 'CDawgVA is IronMouse's patron god who randomly appears to tell IronMouse to go to sleep and has bought nearly every Cinnamoroll in existence for her'.

Just. Think about it.

[bluegiragi]

Have you ever stopped to think about fresh shaved baby König when he first joins the military? Buzz baby 🥹🥹

i know this isn't what you asked for anon, but I've had this mental image in my head of what if Ghost and Konig swapped hair lengths for the longest time and this was the perfect excuse!!

(...somehow this feels wrong)

[spacedace]

Here be the first little bit of the new DP x DC AU I warned about earlier where Tim, due to his constant repeated attempts at cloning Bart & Kon, accidentally summons slightly eldritch Elle who is very interested in what he’s up to.

As always feel free to run with this as a prompt if yall find anything here interesting :D

*

Tim didn’t mean to summon her.

He’d been in the lab, staring at the data on the latest failed attempts at cloning Kon and Bart and feeling like he was cracking in two. Eyes burning, chest tight, world spinning out into shifting impossible shadows around him as his mind and body struggled to push him forward into another day without sleep. The hush of water in the tanks, his unsteady steps on the cement floor, the chill seeping into his bones.

He stumbled and swayed through the maze of the lab, numbers dripping like blood down the screen as he tried to stare at the figures. He needed to try again, needed to bring them back, in whatever capacity he could. This time would work. This time he’d get it right.

When he saw her, feet clumsy as he rounded a corner, he thought she was just another hallucination.

How could she be anything else?

Skin like a polished mirror, hair like the white-hot flash of lightning, eyes as green as the depths of the Lazarus Pits. She floated before a tank, spectral and strange with a long wisping tail that drifted off into nothingness in place of legs, body shifting and changing before his eyes in ways that bodies should not be able to. Outside of the eyes the face was…not there. An impression of the shapes that you’d expect to see in a human face, like the Question’s. Sometimes though the features defined, sharpened. Mirror bright skin crackling as faces took shape in the glass.

In the low light of the lab, he almost imaged one of those faces was Kon’s. Dimples and freckles and high cheek bones and the slant of a silhouette that haunted Tim’s dreams at night. A flicker of her lightining hair and it was gone. Smoothed back into soft blankness once more.

He watched from the of the aisle as she lifted too-long mirror shard fingers and rest them gently on the glass as she seemed to peer in at the lifeless body inside.

Attempt 76.

One of his tries with Bart. The organs hadn’t grown right during the age-up process. Tim had cried for that one as he had for all the others. As he had for Bart and Kon when they had died. As he still did as the fact that it was more maddened grief than hope that kept him pushing forward anyway.

He closed his eyes to the hallucination at the end of the aisle. Breathed deep and steady. It might be gone when he opened his eyes again. It might not be. It might be something - someone - else when he dares look next. He’d been through this time and time again over the days and weeks he’d been throwing himself at this agonizing wall. The only difference this time was the intricate strangeness, the total lack of recognition he had for the figure, baring the moment he almost saw Kon in its face.

Coffee. Maybe some harder stimulants, if he had any left. New data to review, new attempts to be made. He didn’t have time for the effects of sleep deprivation.

Tim opened his eyes.

He jerked back as he came face to face with himself, warped and strange and green in the reflective face of the being where it now hovered so close that if it breathed he would feel it upon his face.

She tilted her head at him, curious. Hands rose to cup his face, rest on his shoulders, wrap around his arms, cradle his hands. More hands than he’d seen before. More hands than he was able to truly comprehend, stomach souring as his eyes stung and strained in the attempt to look at the impossible warping of her body. Despite the glint of shattered glass that made up her fractured palms and splintered silver fingers, her hands were soft and warm where they curled around him. Almost human in the way they held him in place, the hold pleasantly firm.

He’d never had a doting elder aunt to pinch his cheeks and demand to get a look at him, but he imagined this might be what that felt like. The way the being shifted her head from side to side, his reflection warping in the curved reflection of the planes of her featureless face, added to the strange idea. His hallucinations didn’t normally touch him, though. And never so…kindly.

Tim felt his blood go cold as he realized it might not be a figment of his fracturing mind floating before him.

Swallowing nervously, he tried to shift backwards, to slip out of the many grasping hands before the softness turned sharp and began to cut into him. He felt something cool against the back of his legs, hair standing on end as static electricity built up on his skin where he brushed the trailing tail he hadn’t noticed her curl around him. The entity leaned in close, the depthless green of her glowing eyes consuming Tim’s entire field of vision, and he was flooded by the sudden, horrible awareness of being Known.

The world fell away from him, his stomach lurching with the sick-sweet feel of free fall that used to exhilarate him when he’d first become Robin and had flown from rooftops dangling by his grapple and his belief in the magic being Robin instilled in him. The lab, the equipment, the piles of data and desperate scribbles, the failed clones, Tim himself. All swept away in the flood of green and the roar of lightning and the cool press of glass.

He came to would could have been minutes or centuries later. Gasping and sick on the cold cement floor, shivering as he dry heaved. His mouth full of salt and copper and the burning crackle of ozone at the back of his throat.

For a moment, disoriented and dizzy, he thought it had all been a hallucination after all. Or some fractious dream visited upon him by his torn and tattered mind after he’d finally collapsed from exhaustion on the lab floor. That the entity truly had been just in his mind, a consequence of his refusal to rest until his work was done.

Then he felt the glass-cool fingers running through his hair, the warm hand rubbing at his back, heard the low murmurs of reassurance in a voice that was almost, almost human.

He spasmed as he tried to jerk away, hissing with the sharp sting of pins and needles dancing over every nerve. His limbs were heavy and clumsy, and he was crashing back to the cold floor under his own weight before he could even try and drag himself away. His breathing came in short, aching gasps as he tried to twist away, only managing to roll to his back to see the entity where it sat calmly looking down at him.

She had a face now. A solid, steady one that fit her in a way that made him think it must be her real one, though what that meant exactly he didn’t know. The glowing eyes had dimmed and shifted, more human looking with black pupils and white sclera. Button nose marked with silver-tarnish freckles that spread over her cheeks too. A mouth, with lips curled into an apologetic smile. Her hair, still shifting as if caught in a wind that wasn’t there, was still the bright white it’d been before, but the lighting of the locks had settled into faint crackles between the curls. Whatever she was, whatever she’d done to him, he could look at her without feeling like his mind might just crack in two.

“Wha-“ His voice cracked, painful and hoarse like he’d been screaming. Maybe he had been. Swallowing around the burn in his throat, he choked out a hissed, “What are you?”

Her head tilted in that curious slant again, more human features giving her a bright, youthful look as she peered down at him questioningly. “You summoned me, Little Gaffer, shouldn’t you know?”

*

Gaffer is a term used for a glass crafter, as well as light technicians for stage/movie productions. I’m using it as the term for the person who creates a Clone, with the clone themselves being a Mirrorborn, and the person they are cloned from being called the clone’s Reflected. Gaffer is probably a bit of a stretch for this, technically I think someone who makes mirrors would be called a Glazier (Glaziers are glassmakers) but I wasn’t vibing that as much. Besides I like the vibe of glass + light = mirror in a way.

Anyway, opening volley of a new AU where Tim ends up becoming like a warlock to Elle to get his loved ones back, while Elle is just having the time of her sorta eldritch little life watching this absolute mess of a human wreck shit and cause so much chaos even without the powers she starts giving him.

(Elle in this is both the God Queen of Clones/Mirrorborn as well as the Ancient of the Speedforce (which I’ve decided is called the Ever Onward in the Infinite Realms, because I literally can’t be stopped from trying to make normal DC things sound mystical because spooky Infinite Realms aesthetics haha)

Have a tiny bit more written for this, but don’t know how much I’ll end up writing for it with all the other projects I have currently lol, so if anyone is interested feel free to run with it as you so desire haha

[bonesandthebees]

THAT ONE SHOT IS PERFECT

ive been hoping someone will write something with tommy being a god ever since I saw that hc I swear and you fucking delivered everything I couldve hoped for

I love love love it so much

that clingyduo was so spot on for their whole marriage thing

also I get even more excited every time an egg uses sign language now that im learning it, but its funny every time someone asks why im learning sign language and im like uuuuuh for fun? (and definitely not bc of mcrp fanfics)

so late to answering this but thank you!!! I had such a fun time writing that silly thing and it was mostly bc I want more of god!tommy in the qsmp spouse pantheon. like, no disrespect to anyone who hcs qsmp and dsmp as taking place in the same universe, or the people who want sbi in there, but for me personally I think the absolute best place for tommy is as tubbo's annoying ass god husband who he hates. it's just so funny that way and I want more content to exist for that

so glad you enjoyed!!

(also very happy to hear you get excited when I reference the eggs signing it's at least one tiny way I can stretch my ASL knowledge after not using it for several years)

[i-am-church-the-cat]

Corporate wants you to find the difference between these two pictures

[aziraphale-is-a-cat]

DPXDC Early Heroes and Patron Gods

(From this poll)

With the formation of the Justice League, the general public for the first time became widely interested in heroes and vigilantes. Vigilantism as it was, started in the fringes of society, where itheir stories were shared, but never properly documented.

Eventually, among the few vigilantes still around they were able to track down one person who was mentioned as possibly the first. So Lois Lane packed up her bags for the drive to Illinois, because she had scored an interview with the one and only Valerie Grey.

Red Huntress: A lot of getting shot.

Lois Lane: You were part of the first generation of heroics, under the name Red Huntress. What was it like?

LL: Okay- from other heroes' stories, you seemed to be well established in your skill long before coming in and kick-starting the Chicago vigilante scene, where did you get your start?

RH: Amity Park, doesn't exist anymore. I know what you want to ask, and yeah I wasn't the first. I was originally a rogue for this other guy.

LL: Another hero?

RH: Yeah, Amity Park got a big influx of ghosts in the early 2000's, got all but completely isolated during that time for government research into the supernatural. One of the ghosts was this kid named Phantom, he kept everyone in line.

LL: Do you know what happened to him?

RH: He's still around, watching over whoever needs him.

LL: He's still active?

RH: Passive, more like.

-

The interview set off an avalanche, the accompanying pictures of the Phantom in his prime brought forward all kinds of accounts from minor heroes of meeting him. How when they thought they were caught and cornered, sure they were going to die, a white haired kid popped out of nowhere to save them. These savior stories meshed together with his clearly supernatural origin led people to deify him, and soon he was known everywhere as Phantom, the Patron God of Heroes.

The whole thing was mostly dismissed by the Justice League, Batman was especially skeptical of the word of mouth stories. The Young Justice team on the other hand were enamoured by the tales, even as a joke building a shrine to the hero who would never grow up (And maybe after it started to be maintained and grow in size, it stopped being a joke).

But it all came to a head when the Young Justice team was fighting Klarion, and loosing badly. The Witch Boy had stolen several magical items, and was using them to great effect. Superboy was trapped in a cage of energy, Megan and Kaldur were incapacitated by fire magic, and Kid Flash and Beast Boy were frozen in place. All that were left were Artemis and Robin, both badly wounded when the battlefield lit up.

They were saved by the Phantom, Patron God of Heroes.

[dick-chugger]

Greek mythology "fans", stop making Ares a misogynist challenge

[rocker-socks]

I see your Bruce adopts Billy au and raise you Diana adopts Billy while Bruce hovers on the sidelines playing godfather who has the adoption papers ready if something bad happens. Jon also gets this treatment.

[nellasbookplanet]

With Marisha mentioning on last 4SD that Laudna went to that dinner with the Briarwoods thinking it might be her in to leave Whitestone and go study/train her magic abilities, I wonder how much this early trauma has impacted how she talks, or rather doesn’t talk, about being a sorcerer.

Because Laudna doesn’t really talk about what it was like growing up as the only sorcerer in town with abilities she didn’t understand, nor does she seek to learn more about them now (but she wants to give Imogen all that she never had, and the first thing they try to do in the campaign is figure out Imogen's magic). She may talk about her death, sometimes almost flippantly, but not about how it feels knowing that it was her magic, that one part of her that made her special, that she wanted to use to get out of her simple life, that made Delilah choose her as her undead puppet, or the inverse in knowing that if it wasn’t for said magic dooming her, she would just be dead-dead, like the rest of the people in that tree.

And I wonder, is part of Laudna scared to explore her own abilities and self? Is it part of her compartmentalization, where doing so would force her to face a part of her own trauma that she’s been trying to ignore? Did dying trying to reach for something Bigger ironically remove the magic from it all, reduce her sorcerer abilities to just another thing that was used take control of her life away from her? Does leaving herself in the dark feel like taking part of that control back?