2018 is the year we all learn to make pacts with demons
in 2018 we let the seals slip away and grasp the clawed hand of the Abyss! reach into the void between worlds and pull out a friend! pact yourself, body and soul, to entities coursing with infernal energy!!
Reach into your local hellish rift and you will find a friend and boy
You’re a regular office worker born with the ability to “see” how dangerous a person is with a number scale of 1-10 above their heads. A toddler would be a 1, while a skilled soldier with a firearm may score a 7. Today, you notice the reserved new guy at the office measures a 10.
You decide it’s best to find out what you can about this person. Cautiously, you approach his desk. He’s a handsome man, tall, but with a disarming smile. How could such a friendly guy with such cute, dorky glasses be dangerous?
You extend your hand. “I noticed you’re new here. What’s your name?”
He shakes your hand warmly. His gaze is piercing, as if he’s looking right through you. “The name’s Clark,” he says. “So, how long have you worked for the Daily Planet?”
This one wins.
It’s been a few weeks, and one of Clark’s friends shows up. She’s pretty and all, enough muscle that she must work out. First thought would be that she should be maybe a 6.
Clark’s introducing her around. “This is my good friend, Diana, she’s in from out of town.”
You blink, and take a step back in fear. You’ve never seen an 11 before.
The day Bruce Wayne shows up for his long promised interview with Lois Lane, you can’t help it, the mug your holding drops from your fingers and sends a shock of hot coffee and ceramic shards across the floor.
Clark stops a few feet away and squints at you worriedly from behind those ridiculous glasses you’re 99% sure he doesn’t actually need, and asks tentatively, “Everything all right?”
You ignore him in favor of staring at the inky dark numerals hovering over the beaming fool gesticulating some fantastic yacht story for a gaggle of secretaries and minor columnists.
That’s it. Your gift has officially gone haywire. There is no other explanation. Because there is absolutely no way that Brucie Wayne is a 10.
At this point, you’ve seen it all. Miled manner reporters and billionaires at a 10 and a model-like woman at 11. You were really starting to doubt your power. The day you really stopped believeing in it was when Bruce Wayne came for another visit, and this time with a kid. The kid couldn’t be more than 10 years old, a bit on the short side.
He was an 8.
The day you started believing in it again was when you saw on tv the formation of something called the justice league.
There were those same numbers over superman, batman, wonder woman and robin. That’s when you put two and two together. You wonder how nobody at the daily planet noticed that Clarke was Superman with glasses. You wonder why you didn’t notice. You wonder why nobody put two and two together that Diana Prince and Wonder Woman looked exactly the same. You look in the mirror as the realization hit you and you see your own number change from a 3 to a 9.
my sister just told me that technically kangaroos have five limbs because their tail is classified as a leg bc they use that to propel themselves forward which makes them the only pentapedal animal on earth
she just told me that there’s a frog that literally grow a spiky moustache and goes and fights other male frogs for a gf
turns out flamingos aren’t actually pink. they’re born grey but turn pink from the shrimp they eat
so my dudes,,, it turns out theres a flower that only blooms every couple years, and ik what ur thinking “wow it must be beautiful”. turns out it smells like fucking corpses!!! what!! the fuck!!!
my best friend just told me that frogs use their eyeballs to swallow their food by retracting them into their head and pushing the food down and honestly?? the most horrific thing ive ever heard
The wizard realized that it was finally time to take on an assistant to help him with his practice. Someone to pass down his arcane secrets after he is gone. Someone with a youthful perspective on the world, not saddled with the weight of experience. Most importantly, someone to do the heavy lifting. He won’t be around forever, after all – one backfired spell and his centuries of work would be lost. The incident with the elixir of youth had been an unpleasant reminder of his own fallibility. True, it had worked as intended, but he had somewhat underestimated its potency.
But why choose an apprentice with an eyepatch?
Easy. He figured the loss of one eye would make him more cautious about losing the other. Great wizards have had their careers destroyed by foolishly foregoing safety goggles while brewing noxious potions.
True. But also should he lose the other eye after learning enough he might forgo caution and dabble in other forms of ‘seeing’.
Perhaps, but then he will be under the tutelage of a great wizard who can oversee his dabbling.
And anyway, the eyepatch makes him look tougher, which partially compensates for his mild temperament. Young people these days are such sensitive snowflakes.
thisacelovesheadcanons 