#and I was like. hm. that could actually be compelling

[maulfucker]

If you ask me my honest opinion about Maul's eyecolor I think his eyes should be naturally yellow and the rings of red a fucked up eye injury that never healed right (which is why it's so spread out instead of a regular ring around his iris). I know canonically his eyes are red and yellow because he's an evil sith and full of rage, but Eye think him just naturally looking like everyone else's idea of evil is much more compelling than him being actually that evil

[penofwildfire]

There's no real opportunity for yaoi in tpatbf and this is a good thing I think

[sha-brytols]

the most compelling part about bethany's character arc i think is the fact that she's like. never allowed to have a Choice in her life. like people bitch and moan about how bethany is too boring because she's so nice and agreeable and its like i want to slam a brick into their head because thats the POINT THATS HER CHARACTER ARC. if you're not playing a mage hawke bethany knows that everything that happens in your family is implicitly her fault. you're constantly moving and living in poverty because she cant be seen by templars. hawke and carver are basically enlisted by their father as bethanys own personal bodyguards and taught to throw their lives away for hers and carver NEVER made this part of their childhoods a secret he's very vocally bitter over how everything in their family revolves around bethany. like imagine being in her shoes, she feels like her entire life is a burden to the people she loves most of course she doesn't ever rock the boat because why ADD to their suffering. she has no agency, no control. her personality is completely informed by her circumstances she CAN'T afford to be selfish because every single thing she does has the potential to ruin her entire families livelihood.

which is why i'm super against the notion that warden bethany is her "bad" ending because "look at her she's so miserable and angry 😧 she's much happier in the circle omg." like erm. hm. perhaps. she only appears happier in the circle because it is yet another circumstance she has no control over and every wrong move she makes could result in a fate worse than death? perhaps. it's actually. good. and healthy. that as a warden she's finally showing her true unfiltered emotions and freeing herself from the mask of false optimism she used to protect her family because shes no longer a passive prisoner to her own life. the way bethany finally blossoms into herself as a warden is actually beautiful it just Takes A Second to get there because she doesn't get to fully process her anger until act 3.

[hazbinwhoree]

BRO?$!&?& OAAA I SAW YOU WERE OPEN TO ADAM REQUESTS AND OHHH. MY SNAP.

i am in desperate need. of adam smut.

NOW, WOULD IT BE OKAY FOR ME TO ASK FOR ADAM SMUT WITH A SUBMISSIVE FEMALE SINNER READER WHO IS:

usually shy nervous as fuck but absolutely watches him when he thinks he isn't looking

likes to compliment him in general (at the most random times too, despite the dickmaster being the FUCKING WORST, and she would get that but he IS kinda fine so)

touch-starved, incredibly easy to fluster and tease (bro has a thing for his voices and looks too, one word or look and she'd be on her knees)

pretty insecure in general (and is a sucker for being praised in bed)

I'd also specifically like to hear what he would say to the reader ESPECIALLY THAT IDFK AAA GO CRAZY

Adam’s Sinner

Part 1/3 Part 2

A/N: I was so fucking happy to get a request you don’t even understand. Anyway here it is, I hope I did it justice and you enjoy it!

Warnings: Smut

Adam had been aware of (Name) for about ten years. They met during the extermination, Adam cornering her in an alley. Something compelled him to spare her, and yes he realized what a hypocrite that made him. Poor Vaggie. “Fucking run, bitch.” She bolted. Adam looked around to make sure no one had seen.

The next year, Adam noticed (Name) watching him, hiding behind corners and in shadows. She did this during every extermination for about five years before Adam decided during one extermination to confront her.

(Name) peered around the corner of the dark alley she was hiding in, watching Adam kill a fellow sinner. It should disgust her, but ever since he spared her life she had a strange sort of attraction towards him. Adam looked up and (Name) ducked back behind the wall. When she peered out again, Adam was nowhere to be seen.

“What’s up, sugar tits?”

(Name) yelped, jumping when Adam appeared behind her. He put his hands on the wall on either side of her head, effectively caging her in. (Name) could feel her face heating up. Adam seemed to find it amusing. “Flustered?” (Name) swallowed.

“You know I’ve seen you watching me for the last few exterminations. What’s up with that, hm?”

(Name) had no answer.

“What’s your name?” Adam asked.

“(Name),” she answered quietly. Adam had to bend down to hear her. His proximity made her blush worse, and he snickered. “I think I figured out why. No surprise really, of course you’d want a piece of the first man in existence. I’m the fucking Dickmaster.”

He let her go shortly after their exchange, but confronted her again the next year. As years passed, Adam would spare thirty minutes every extermination to talk to (Name). He found himself becoming fond of the sinner. Her story of how she ended up in hell was interesting, and it definitely helped that she stroked his ego with compliments.

Adam found himself looking forward to seeing (Name) even more than he looked forward to the exterminations. He was grateful Lute hadn’t caught on.

A few years later, and Adam noticed (Name) wasn’t following him as she normally would. So he sought her out. She’d told him a few years ago where she lived, so that was the first place Adam checked. Sure enough, he found her there.

“Sup.”

(Name) jumped. “Adam!”

“What the fuck, babe, not interested in seeing me this year?” Adam placed his hand over his heart in mock hurt, although while he’d never admit it, it actually did hurt him.

“We can’t see each other anymore,” (Name) announced, looking away.

“Bitch why?”

“Because one of these days we’re going to get caught. I know what happened to Vaggie. What would happen if the exterminators found out their leader was socializing with a sinner?”

“You’re not like the other sinners,” Adam argued. “I’d show them that.”

“How?”

Adam was quiet.

“Exactly. And to be honest, I can’t take the emotional torture anymore.”

“The fuck are you on about, ‘emotional torture’? Come on babe-”

“Adam no. I can’t let myself get any closer to you. We only see each other once a year and I got attached, and dealing with only seeing you once a year has gotten too painful.”

Adam was rather taken aback by the confession. He felt the same way but had been gaslighting himself to believe he didn’t. For once in his life, Adam couldn’t find anything to say. He decided the best course was the course of action rather than talking.

He leaned down and abruptly pressed his lips to (Name)’s. Her eyes widened and her body stiffened. When Adam received no response on her end, he pulled back, worried he’d fucked up. She stared up at him with this look on her face that Adam couldn’t place. He didn’t know if it was positive or negative.

“Again,” she finally spoke in a small voice. A smirk stretched across Adam’s face, and he bent down once more to press his lips to hers. She kissed him back this time, almost desperately, and Adam’s arms wrapped around her waist. She shuddered and he pulled back.

“Are you okay?” No teasing or cursing.

“Yeah I just… I haven’t had anyone touch me like this in a long time.”

Adam couldn’t say the same, but this was the first time in a long time emotions had been involved. He kissed her again and snuck his tongue into her mouth as she kissed back. “I want to fuck you,” Adam mumbled against her lips. “Okay.”

Adam pushed her down on her bed, crawling on top of her. He reconnected their lips and slid a hand under her shirt. “Damn,” he commented when his wandering hand reached her chest. “Nice rack.” (Name) rolled her eyes. Adam began kissing down her neck, sucking and biting to leave his mark. (Name) moaned and grabbed onto his horns.

Adam pulled back to shed his robe, and (Name) yanked her shirt over her head. Now that Adam actually had eyes on her chest, he stared for a moment. “So pretty~” he cooed. (Name) blushed and swallowed.

“Oh~” Adam realized. “You like that, don’t you? You like being praised?”

(Name) looked away. Adam grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed, babe, it’s cute.” He returned to her neck, kissing down and down, her shoulder, her collarbone. Then he slid down slightly to press his face between her breasts. He laid more kisses on her chest before taking a nipple into his mouth.

Sensitive, (Name) arched her back and whimpered. “I like that noise,” Adam said, moving to the other breast. “Make it again.” He sucked and she whimpered.

Adam was aware he had a short window of time to make this work, so he pulled back and pulled down (Name)’s pants and panties in one swift motion. (Name) got embarrassed being so exposed, so Adam quickly shed his own pants and boxers to level the playing field.

He noticed (Name) staring at his dick and smirked. He took it in his hand, pumping it a few times for show. “You like what you see, baby? Of course you do. Can’t beat the original dick.”

He crawled on top of her again, nudging her thighs apart with his knee to settle between them. He reconnected their lips while his hand traveled down to the place she wanted it the most. “So wet for me, good girl,” Adam teased. Flustered, (Name) shut him up with another kiss.

They made out while Adam experimentally slid one slender finger into her. Met with no resistance, he added another one, and began languidly pumping them in and out. (Name) was shaking. Eager to hurry this along, Adam added another finger. Three stretched her out and she moaned against his lips at the sensation. It made Adam’s dick throb.

He fingered her, with his thumb circling her clit, until he decided she was well enough prepared, pulling his hand away. (Name) whined at the loss but was quickly shut up by Adam grabbing her legs and throwing them over his shoulders. She gasped. Adam lined himself up with her entrance and sunk in slowly, giving her time to adjust. She squirmed, his girth proving to be a little painful to take.

Adam reached between them to give her clit attention, and that loosened her up right away. He bottomed out with a groan, closing his eyes. “Fuck, babe, you’re so tight.” Adam kissed her again, basically bending her in half as he began thrusting. He swallowed her whimpers and moans while his pace picked up in speed and intensity.

He had tried to be slow and gentle, he really had.

Adam set a brutal pace, and (Name) clawed at his back as he pounded into her. “Fuck, yeah, you’re so good for me, tits. Such a good girl, all mine,” Adam talked as he fucked her, and his every word brought (Name) closer to the edge. “You feel so fucking good.”

Adam’s thrusts were getting sloppy as he neared his own climax. “Cum for me,” he murmured. “Fucking cum for me, baby.” (Name) did, her back arching off the bed, her head thrown back and mouth open in slack pleasure. Her tightening around him pushed Adam over the edge, and he buried himself as deep as he could, cumming inside her.

They both panted, holding onto one another as they came down from their highs. Adam pulled out and rolled off of (Name), collapsing onto the bed next to her. He pulled her into his chest and covered her with one of his wings, nuzzling his face into her hair.

“I’ll find a way to see each other more,” he muttered. “I’ll figure something out.” (Name) buried her face in his chest. “Promise?” Her voice was muffled.

“Promise.”

[moonstruckme]

Glad your back love! I have a request if that’s alright. Remus and reader going on a bookstore date and lunch or something!! That would be so cute. Imagine how excited both of them would be picking out books and being affectionate. Just a lot of fluff and cuteness. Thanks sweetness hope you enjoyed your break!

Thanks for requesting sweetness!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You’re feeling a bit guilty about the teas you’ve snuck in, but if there are two people who can be trusted around books, it’s you and Remus. He takes a careful sip as he leans in to skim the titles, sticking one hand in the pocket of his pants. 

“Island of Love,” he reads, amusement lilting his tone. “Original.” 

“I think I’ve actually read some of that author’s stuff,” you say. 

Remus quirks a brow at you interestedly, hand coming out of his pocket to pull the novel from the shelf. “Let’s see, a summer wedding, the groom’s brother and bride’s maid of honor hate each other, but—oh, he’s frustratingly attractive…and something about passionate summer heat.” The corner of his mouth twitches. “Wonder what that could be alluding to.” 

“Alright.” You steal the book from him, slotting back into its space. “I never said this stuff was, like, literature to be studied at Oxford. If you’re going to disrespect my section, run along to yours.” 

“Fairly sure it’s considered rude to abandon your date,” he muses. “What’s my section, by the way?”

“Depressing stuff.” 

“Oh?” 

“Mhm.” You take a sip of your own tea, trying not to fluster under his attention. You scan the shelves idly for a distraction. “It’s all rather doom and gloom. Very well-written doom and gloom, to be fair, but I’m not always looking to have my life changed. This stuff is fun, at least.” 

“I see,” he hums. “Oh, this looks familiar.” 

You turn to see him holding up the shiny new version of the worn and waterstained paperback that rests perpetually on your nightstand at home. 

“How do you know about that?” you ask him. 

Remus smiles. Your heart flutters. “It was on the coffee table when I was over last week. Are you rereading it?” 

“Yeah.” You shrug, turning your eyes away from him. “I reread it a lot, it’s my favorite.” 

“Mm, I noticed it looked fairly battered.” 

“Well-loved,” you correct him. 

He chuckles quietly, and you grin because you can’t help it. “Right, so sorry. My mistake.” 

You brush a piece of hair out of your face, slotting it behind your ear. Watch Remus’ eyes track the movement. “So what’s your battered book?” 

“Hm?” 

“Your favorite,” you clarify. “The book that’s all war torn and full of nonsensical annotations.”

He thinks for a minute. “I’m not sure,” he admits. “I have a few I go back and forth between, but lately it’s been The Secret History.” 

You have to cover your mouth with a hand to hide the full breadth of your smile, and Remus narrows his eyes at you. 

“What?” he asks.

“That book is so depressing.” You shake your head, delighted at being so right. “I mean, it’s beautifully written,” you amend. “Really gorgeous. I’m just not sure I found the plot as compelling as the prose.” 

His mouth actually drops open. You can’t tell how much of the shock is teasing and how much is real. “You thought that book had no plot?” 

“No, I mean, plenty happened.” You turn to face him, forgetting about the books around you for a moment to focus on this one. “But I felt like it happened so slowly, and there was so much in between that was just tons of description. It was like they almost skimmed over the murder part! There were so many plotlines that were brought in and then just disappeared, though I guess I can respect the ways in which it reflected real life.”

You think for a second that Remus might argue with you (he should, really—it’s his favorite book and you’re slandering it), but he keeps his mouth shut, watching you interestedly. 

“And don’t you think Richard was a bit passive? Henry and Bunny had so much going on, but the narrator could have literally been a fly on the wall the whole time. He kind of reminds me of Nick Carroway, you know?” 

“From the Great Gastby?” He tilts his head, eyes squinting a bit (it’s devastatingly cute). “How’s that?” 

“Just, they’re both such flat characters.” You frown. “I don’t really think either of them needed to be in the story at all. I mean, having a narrator that’s a character with no personality is effectively the same as having a non-omniscient third-person narrator, right?” 

Remus is biting the inside corner of his lips like he’s trying not to smile. “Right.” 

“What?”

“I’m just thinking that I need to get you talking about books more often,” he says. And that’s real affection in his eyes, mixed in with the humor. 

You look down, grinning at the front of your shirt, but his little smile doesn’t waver. 

“Shouldn’t be hard,” you say. An awkward, obvious sidestep of the compliment, but he lets you get away with it. “Your turn. Let’s go to your section.” 

He shrugs. “If you think you can stand it,” he says, but starts moving in that direction. You notice he’s still holding the copy of your favorite book. 

“Aren’t you going to put that back?” 

“No.” He doesn’t need to look down to know what you’re talking about. “You’ve already torn one of my choice novels to shreds, now it’s my turn to read yours.” 

A little bite of nervousness snips behind your belly button even as his sidelong look lets you know he’s only joking. “You could always borrow mine.” 

Remus blinks. “I’m flattered that you’d trust me with it,” he says, and it almost has you blushing again, that he knows the significance of you offering him your copy, “but I think I’ll read the un-annotated version first. But if the offer still stands after I’m finished, I’d love to read your thoughts on it.” 

He says it like it’s nothing. Like taking the time to read your favorite book twice, just so he can get to know you more thoroughly, isn’t the sweetest thing anyone’s ever so much as thought of doing for you. You worry that if you look down, your heart will be glowing right through your shirt.

“Alright.” You muster your courage, taking him by the hand. “But now we also have to find one to read together.” 

Remus has looked down at your joined hands, something like shyness coloring his expression, but he looks up to quirk an eyebrow at you. “Are you so sure we’ll be able to find something we can agree upon?” 

“So long as it involves a main character that actually does something, I think we can manage.”

[dioslesbianwife]

You know what time it is chaos time.

The jofoes partner saying the as so beautiful she wishes she could get them pregnant.

Like they helped her with something important and her saying thank you beautiful man I wish I could get you pregnant.

LMAO i would def say this to them (cause it's true) anyway totally, hope you enjoy and ty for the laugh and requesting

Dio

He literally freezes for a second like his brain blue screens.

"…You…wish you could… get me pregnant?" He repeats it slowly, like he can’t quite believe his ears.

Then he bursts out laughing- the smug, delighted kind.

"Of course you do. I am a vision of perfection, after all."

He leans down and cups your chin, purring: "Tell me again, my dear... Tell me all the absurd little things you would do to worship me."

He's SO into it. He thinks it's hilarious and adorable and he feeds off the worship like it's oxygen.

Kars

Kars just raises an eyebrow at you at first.

"That is biologically impossible."

(Thanks, Captain Obvious.)

But when he sees your very earnest, starry-eyed expression, he actually smiles, a rare genuine one.

"You would wish to give me life? Hm... A fascinating sentiment."

Secretly? He’s absolutely preening inside. His ego is stroked SO perfectly.

He’ll teasingly remind you later, too: "Careful. Admiration like that may compel me to keep you at my side forever."

Yoshikage Kira

Kira chokes a little bit.

He's trying to help you reach something off a high shelf when you say it- and he just stops moving entirely.

"…You…you think I'm...pretty?" he says very quietly, almost stunned.

You nod seriously, and he blushes faintly, smoothing his hair back.

"That’s… very flattering."

(Internally he's screaming.)

For the rest of the day, he’s lowkey dazed and keeps sneaking glances at you like you hung the damn moon.

Diavolo

Diavolo immediately glares at you -  but it’s very obvious he’s flustered.

"Tch. Foolishness."

But also... the corners of his mouth twitch like he’s fighting a smile.

You can practically hear him replaying it in his head on loop later, brooding in his dark throne room like,

"She wishes she could impregnate me...because I am beautiful..."

He’s smug about it for DAYS.

If you bring it up again, he’ll growl, "Say it again." (But softer. And he won't meet your eyes.)

Doppio

Doppio turns BEET RED.

"H-Huh?!! You want to-  get me- pregnant? What the hell does that even mean?"

He covers his face with his hands and crouches down like he's about to explode from secondhand embarrassment.

"You think I'm that pretty...?"

You reassure him and he just lets out a tiny whimper.

For like a week straight after, whenever you compliment him, he’ll get shy and mutter "She wants to get me pregnant..." like it’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to him.

Enrico Pucci

Pucci stares at you silently for a long moment.

"That… is not how biology works." He says it with a totally straight face.

But his ears are turning pink.

He tries to turn it into a theological discussion about life and creation and destiny- 

but you can tell he’s secretly flattered to hell and back.

He’s a little extra affectionate after that: lingering touches, softer voice, glancing at you when he thinks you’re not looking.

Funny Valentine

Valentine chuckles immediately.

"Such patriotic devotion to your president, my dear."

He tilts your chin up and gives you a sly, knowing smile.

"If I could be blessed with such a thing... it would be a child as beautiful and strong as its parents."

Plays along smoothly because God, he loves how much you adore him.

Will absolutely offer to get you pregnant instead.

Diego Brando

Diego does a double take like he MISHEARD YOU.

"You wanna WHAT- ??"

He’s caught somewhere between being insulted (he's not some weak thing!!) and SO smug because you think he's beautiful.

He smirks, ruffles your hair, and says, "Yeah, you’re obsessed with me. Can’t blame you."

Teases you about it nonstop after:

"Bet you'd knock me up if you could, huh? Make me your cute little trophy husband?"

(He's secretly kinda into the idea, not that he'd ever admit it.)

Tooru

Tooru grins like an idiot.

"Aww, Y/N-chan-  you think I'm that pretty, huh?"

He immediately jumps on you, pretending to faint dramatically into your arms: "Impregnate me, my goddess!!"

He plays it up so bad you’re both laughing, but then later he just looks at you, all soft and earnest:

"You're seriously too cute."

Starts using it as blackmail when he wants attention: "You SAID you wanna get me pregnant. C’mon, cuddle me."

[gracebethartacc]

had a dream about a au/plot where hms encountered doppelgängers (soul 2 when❓) and I wanted to doodle something of that :3€

(in the dream they were more convincing/manipulative but I drew it more horror-like/soul guilt themes for funsies sake. THOUGH Methinks in this scenario the doubles could go both ways tbh… horror wise I find “character A talking to ‘character B’ only for the REAL character B to walk in the room, the fake one still acts the same though even after being caught (“wait where are you going!? A!?! Come back!”)” wayyyy more compelling… I love doppelgängers who might actually be real but there’s not enough proof to it it’s soooo fucked (looks really hard at calamarispiders magical girl au. That’s My Shitttttt it’s so fucking Good as a trope god I love it save me fear of the unknownnnn gnaws on bars of my cage)

[piningforstan]

Talking in Your Sleep

Part One | Part Two

Summary: You start to suspect that there’s more to Stan than what he tells you, at least while he’s awake. Asleep is a different story

Pairings: Stanley Pines x GN!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: None, just angst

A/N: Don’t ask me why I put characters I love so much through so much heartache. There might be something wrong with me

“You dated him, didn’t you?”

“Hm?” You pretended not to be paying attention, wiping down the bar. No matter how many times you cleaned it, it stayed perpetually grimy to the touch. You doing the rag over your shoulder. “Who?”

“Weird guy. Lives in the woods.”

“Pines,” the other guy at the bar supplied. The foam of the cheap beer left a rim around his mouth. The former nodded.

“Oh, yeah,” you said casually, though it was anything but. Dated as in committed every dip and plane of his body to memory, told him about your childhood, envisioned a life unfolding before you with this man you considered your best friend. Until his lies ripped it away.

The two men continued their conversation then as if they only needed you to confirm something they already knew.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t partially want the job at Skull Fracture because you knew it was a notorious house of gossip and rumors, a way to check on Stan without actually having to speak to him. You picked up bits and pieces of what he was up to, how he was, all without actually inserting yourself.

In a small town like Gravity Falls there wasn’t much to talk about, and Stan posed a compelling story every time. You supposed it was a good thing that they never tired of him, speculating about his life and his job and everything else. You were of minor interest, too, since everyone knew you had lived and worked with him. But you never revealed much. It disgusted you, this unwavering loyalty to Stan. What did you owe him?

It became well known, anyway, that you refused to offer much in terms of fodder for gossip. You were intriguing in a vague, less interesting sense, a lens through which they hoped to grasp a better understanding of Stan.

The roar of the bar usually muted those thoughts of him. Music blared at all times of the day, men smoked and fought and cursed, greasy-smelling food wafted from the kitchen, and you facilitated all of it with a plastered smile. You needed money after leaving Stan. Gravity Falls wasn’t exactly a hotbed of employment opportunities, and unless you wanted to be stuck in the lumber business you had no other option than barkeep.

Your name floated over the din of drunk bikers, your manager appearing out of the back. “There’s a call. For you.”

You wiped your hands on your thighs and followed him to the phone. “Hello?”

“Doll, you gotta help me out.”

Stan’s voice, deep and rasping, struck you like a slap. Your stomach dropped. It took you a few moments to eke out a response. “Stan?”

“They, uh, got me down at the station. Some bogus arrest.”

“What?” You shook your head. “Stan, you got arrested?”

“Just say you’ll come down, eh?”

“Why are you calling me? I’m at work.”

A pause on his end, the sound of a door being slammed shut. “I ain’t got no one else.”

You inhaled sharply and exhaled out your mouth, fingers digging into the phone. You could examine your decision making abilities later. “Fine. Fine, Stan. How much is bail?”

“S’not much.”

It s’was much, you came to find out, nearly all of your savings. But for some godawful reason, you still loved Stan, and you knew since his voice rang out on the line that you would do anything he asked. You loathed yourself for this, loathed him for putting you in this position.

Stan was grinning sheepishly and rubbing his wrists as he walked out of the station. Everything you had to say, all of the reprimands and lectures, vanished upon seeing him.

“You cut your hair,” you blurted stupidly.

Gone was the mullet, the unruly curls. You quickly admired the shape of his jaw leading into his neck, his slightly too big ears that endeared you to him even more. He looked younger this way.

Stan rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling. “Yeah. If bad haircuts were a crime, I would’ve been arrested a lot sooner.”

You opened your mouth to tell him that you had loved his mullet, but promptly closed it again. It hurt to look at him, properly, since that night in the basement; the ache you carried in your heart increased tenfold now, throbbing so painfully that you thought you might now understand how people could die from broken hearts. You tore your gaze from him. Suddenly the bushes outside the station held your rapt attention.

“Listen, uh, thanks. For bailing me out. How much do I owe ya?”

“Stan, you’ve forgotten I’ve balanced your books. You couldn’t pay me back even if you wanted.”

“That’s not true,” Stan protested, “the Shack’s been breakin’ even most days. She’s doin’ alright. Not the same without you, though.”

He rushed this last part, an afterthought that he wanted to retract but had already brought to life.

“Well, that’s good to hear,” you said. Perhaps if you pretended you didn’t hear him entirely, it wouldn’t take roost in your mind.

“I’ve been meanin’ to tell ya —”

“I have to get back to work, Stan,” you said, sharper than you meant to. You couldn’t think with the amount of hurt being in his company afforded you. “Do you need a ride?”

He nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets. The drive back transpired in silence. Your headlights sliced through the darkened woods like two sabers, finally falling onto the Mystery Shack as you pulled into the gravel lot. You still considered it more home than your place now, a room you rented from one of the locals. You didn’t realize just how much you missed it.

Your grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Have a good night, Stan.”

“You should come in. Please. I won’t keep ya long.”

Your resolve, well, dissolved. Not that it was heavily fortified to begin with. You found yourself crossing the lot to the porch and in through the front door, the process a lot like slipping into a familiar piece of clothing. It smelled distinctly Stan-ish, you noticed, though not unkindly. He had kept the place neat since you left. The reminder of that afternoon, dragging your meager belongings out, glared in your memory. Stan watching out the window as you drove away.

“Jus’ one cup. I swear.” He placed a mug of coffee in front of you. Your mug. The one you forgot.

“Thanks,” you mumbled. You were grateful for the excuse to do something with your hands, even though the coffee tasted like mornings with your feet in his lap and his lips on your shoulder.

“I hear yer workin’ at the bar now.”

You smiled grimly. “Regrettably.”

“Ya know you always have a job here,” Stan said.

“What’re you doing?” You set down the mug on the table. The anger boiled in you, words escaping like trapped steam with no where else to go. “You can’t just act like nothing happened. Like this is normal.”

“I jus’ wanted to talk,” Stan told you. His throat bobbed uncertainly. “To apologize.”

You stayed quiet.

When he realized you wouldn’t be responding, he forged ahead. “I should’ve been honest with you. From the beginning. But ya don’t understand where I was when I met you — I finally reconnected with my brother after ten years and then I lost him. Again. Because I fucked up.”

His hands formed into fists. Stan took a breath, seemingly to steady himself. “I was lost. I was angry. It was easier to lie. And what was I s’ppose to do? Spill the whole truth? When I first met you, you were a stranger. I had no idea that you would stick around w’me as long as you did.”

“That’s…fair.” Stan looked relieved at this, though it wasn’t long lasting. “But why not tell me the truth when I asked?”

“I didn’t know how. Every time I tried, I…I couldn’t. Would you have had a different reaction, though? I knew you would leave.”

“At least I would’ve heard it from you straight, Stan. I had to find out while you were asleep that you were keeping these huge secrets from me.”

“I know. I’m…I’m sorry. I didn’t want things to end the way they did.”

You bit down on your lip to keep the tears at bay. “Neither did I.”

“We could try it again, ya know.”

The way he looked at you was so earnest, so genuine, that you had to close your eyes to ward off the image of him as a skinned-knee child, the one who solved problems with his fists and resided just below the surface of this man now.

“Stan —”

“Please?”

You swallowed, your throat thick with emotion. “I don’t know if I can trust you again.”

“The truth is out now. You know everything.”

“But I will never be able to ignore the feeling that you’re hiding something from me,” you said. “So much is still unclear to me.”

“Ask me anythin’. I’ll tell ya.”

You couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes as you said, “Stop building the portal or whatever you’re doing. Focus on the people — here — in your life.”

Focus on me, you inwardly pleaded.

Stan’s jaw feathered. “I can’t stop working to get him back.”

The swift finality of his words washed over you, a decisive blow to the traitorous hope you still clung to. Coffee not even halfway drank, you stood and rounded the table. Stan’s cheeks were wet with tears as you put your hands to them, pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Goodnight, Stanley.”

The bar shined. It was never dirty for long, you ensured that when you bought it, ensured that you wiped away every mess. You could even see the door opening in the reflection of the bar, two small bodies stepping through. You looked up.

It wasn’t rare for new faces to visit. It was summer, the height of tourism season, and your bar was preferable to Skull Fracture. Gentle music drifted from the speakers. Bar wasn’t even the right word — you served small meals and drinks of all kinds, not just alcohol. You smiled at the two children as they approached. “Thirsty?”

“Yes!” The girl, buried in a sweater despite the heat, smiled brightly at you. Her braces winked in the low lighting.

“And,” the boy said, her brother, glancing at her purposefully, “we need to ask some questions.”

You nodded. “Ask away. Lemonade okay?”

The juxtaposition of the two, the girl, looking around eagerly, and the boy, doing his best to present himself as mature and composed, brought a smile to your face. He laid a notebook on the bar counter, brows furrowed.

“Where were you the night of June twenty-first?”

“Hm. At home, I suppose.”

“Can anyone confirm that?”

You peered at him. Amusement ignited inside you, a flicker of affection. You loved kids, always have. “I live alone, so, no.”

“Did you see anything…peculiar that night?”

“Not that I can recall.” You set down two glasses of lemonade in front of them. “Why?”

“There was a reported sighting of an unidentifiable object in the sky,” the boy said. “We were just gathering information about it.”

The girl wiggled her fingers, whispering conspiratorially, “Aaaaaliens.”

“We don’t know that,” the boy countered.

“I wouldn’t be surprised. Strange things always happen in this town,” you said.

“You see them too?”

You smiled softly at the two of them. “I do.”

“I’m Dipper. This is my sister, Mabel,” the boy introduced, jerking a thumb at her. “Would you mind telling me stories about what you’ve seen?”

You entertained their questions, recalling the unexplainable things you’d seen over the last thirty years. You refilled their drinks twice. They listened intently to your stories, interrupting only to clarify something specific.

There was something familiar in their shape of their mouths, the keen way that they interacted with their world. Had they been in town before? You knew some families returned to Gravity Falls every summer to enjoy the wilderness and disconnect.

“What did it look like?” Dipper asked, leaning forward in interest.

You had been telling them about the time you swear you saw glowing lights in the trees, floating blue spheres leading you away from the path. “Well, they —”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Dipper said. “I should be putting this in the journal.”

“Dipper,” Mabel warned him.

Dipper ignored her. “Would you mind following us home? I’d love to write everything down and-and draw a picture, if you don’t mind.”

His cheeks flushed at this.

You gazed around the empty bar, then shrugged. What point was there to owning your own business if you couldn’t close down when you wanted?

“Sure, give me one moment.”

The twins appealed to you. And you were curious to find out more about them. Not to mention, it had been a long time since someone wanted to talk to you. Really talk. You weren’t lonely, per se, but you sometimes missed the comfort of another person. As you closed the cash register and locked up, you couldn’t ignore the fact that you had wanted kids, long ago, but the years slipped away and now the dream was gone.

You liked these kids. Even though you’d only known them for an afternoon, you’d taken a shine to them — smart and witty, perceptive, the right amount of childish enthusiasm. You told them to put their bikes in the trunk of your car and followed their direction back home.

“You live…here?” Your stomach dropped as the Mystery Shack emerged from the dense forest, the S lying precariously on the roof.

“Kinda,” Mabel said, “we’re staying with our Grunkle Stan for the summer.”

Dipper, insisting that he got the front seat, turned to you. “Do you know him?”

“Kinda,” you muttered. “If it’s all the same to you, I might just stay in the car.”

The twins exchanged a look. A pointed, knowing look, like they suspected their uncle had done something to lose your favor. They weren’t wrong, exactly. Dipper and Mabel ran inside with the promise to return shortly. All you could do was stare at the Shack numbly, imagine the man within and the memories you held with him. You should’ve known that he would make an appearance, stomp out onto the porch after his niece and nephew to investigate.

Stan’s expression crumbled.

You couldn’t hear, but he uttered something to them. They gesticulated frantically back. Your heart had leapt into your throat by the time the three of them walked back to the car, Stan lingering a few steps behind.

“Grunkle Stan says we shouldn’t bother you,” Mabel said, pouting.

You finally forced your gaze to him. Stan had aged well, you reluctantly noticed, still unbearably handsome. The same broad shoulders. The features that you knew so well, lined with the years you spent apart.

“They aren’t bothering me,” you choked out.

“You shouldn’t fill their heads w’stories,” Stan replied, refusing to meet your eyes.

“They aren’t stories,” you and Dipper both protested at the same time. You shared a secretive smile with him.

“Jus’ tell the nice person sorry and let them get on with her day.”

Mabel tugged on his suit jacket. “They told us that you knew each other.”

“We-We did,” Stan said.

You supplied, “A long time ago.”

“Then come inside and catch up!” Mabel beamed at the idea. “You gave us lemonade so it’s only fair. I can make you Mabel-cakes!”

“If it’s fine with your uncle.”

Stan studied you closely. You could only imagine what he saw, your greying hair and swollen knuckles. “Uh, yeah…’course.”

You were both pleased and devastated to see how the inside of the Shack had changed. Judging by the “exhibits” and amount of items in the gift shop, business was prosperous. A redheaded girl at the register waved at you as you passed. Dipper disappeared upstairs to fetch his journal, and Mabel busied herself preparing the pancake mix, leaving you alone with Stan.

“It’s, uh, been awhile,” Stan said, effectively breaking the silence.

You feigned an interest in the water stains on the ceilings. “It has.”

The last time you were together had been almost— what, two years ago? You had knocked. Stan had answered. He touched you with expert precision, years of exploring one another resulting in experiences both familiar and new, somehow each brief encounter over the years never dulling your attraction. You weren’t proud, necessarily, of your weakness in the form of Stan Pines. You had almost overcome it until today; you should’ve known that the twins were Pines.

“How’s the bar?” Stan asked.

“Fine.”

“I’m sorry if they were botherin’ ya. Kids.”

“They weren’t,” you said, and you meant it. “They seem really great. They’re your niece and nephew?”

“Great niece and nephew. My brother’s grandkids.” When you arched a brow in confusion, Stan grimaced. “Other brother.”

“Oh.” You hugged your arms around yourself. Should you ask him how his search was? You wanted to care, but found it hard when it only brought back painful memories. Clearly it hadn’t been well, not if his brother was still absent.

You bit your lip. “Do they know?”

“No, they don’t.” Stan’s face shuttered closed.

Indignation swelled inside you, pressed against your rib cage. “You haven’t told them?”

“Everyone thinks that —” he lowered his voice, “—that Stanley Pines is dead. Including their parents and my brother.”

“I can’t believe you.”

“What I do with my life isn’t your problem,” Stan snapped. “You made that clear.”

“They’re good kids, Stan.”

“You don’t think I know that?”

“Don’t push them away, too,” you told him softly. “I-I need to go. Can you tell them I’m sorry? Say that I had to go back to work or something.”

Stan’s words chased you out the door: “Whose the liar now?”

Tags:

@gimmemorecherries @tellybearryyyy

[into-fiction]

re: Elphaba staying (or being forced to stay?) I could potentially see them keeping Elphaba in chains somewhere, maybe Morrible does something to contain her powers, idk? And Galinda being kept around as leverage (i.e., we'll hurt her, kill her if you don't comply). Afterall, the Wizard tried to present her as positive leverage in the movie ("and if it makes you happy, maybe even your friend here").

The question is, how much would Elphaba sacrifice for Galinda? She chooses Animals/political resistance over her, ultimately. Would she willingly hurt animals to keep her safe? I think most gelphie shippers would probably like to believe that she would do anything to keep Galinda safe, but I think there's a conflict there that a lot of gelphie fic doesn't address. Yes, we all talk about how their relationship is "doomed by the narrative", but really, they ultimately just choose themselves over each other. Not true love, some would say, or at least not a compelling romance.

That's to say, I think there aren't many "Elphie stays" stories simply BECAUSE they're doomed by the narrative. When the narrative changes to accommodate their relationship, everyone suffers! There's no triumph, no character arc for either of them, just some kind of dystopian timeline, right?

(Unless both Morrible and the Wizard somehow get killed, say, before the hot air balloon scene. Then Elphaba wouldn't have any need to leave, though there would be a serious power vacuum and it's not like two random University students could fill it, right?..... shhhh I'm thinking....)

see the part where i hit a wall in any 'elphie stays' scenario is we actually have no idea what the wizard wanted her for. he has his spies now, so what else does he need? i actually don't even know there would be any other spells he'd ask her to cast on Animals.

tbh, i don't think elphie would need much restraining. lets be real- without the grimmerie, she still is someone who has almost no control. if she can't float a coin on purpose, she's unlikely to be able to escape easily. esp if glinda is leverage and esp if her personal morals prevent her from wanting to hurt anyone.

but really, what would her job be?? no doubt the wizard wanted to harness her magic somehow, likely to continue to control and suppress the Animals, but a direct spell like the monkey wings? seems like a one time thing. in fact- how would they even put a positive spin on winged monkeys without a wicked witch to blame it on?!

i agree with glinda being used as leverage! i think that makes the most sense. and as for whether hurting glinda is a strong enough incentive to push elphie to do something she opposes.....hm. how far would she go? if one of the guards had put a gun to glinda's head and said "stand down or else" - would elphie have stayed? would she have fought it every second or would she have listened to glinda?

and glinda herself! would she have begged elphie to cooperate? would she have told her 'its alright don't worry about me'? if she had said the latter, would elphie have felt better about letting her get hurt?

or, in a world where elphie listens first and stays of her own free will, would they even need to threaten her explicitly? or would elphie have cooperated out of her own desire to see things through from another angle?

[thatguythatdrawsalot]

Tyrian - First Debut Design Critique.  

No way! It’s my favorite character from RWBY that I get to talk about which means it’s gonna hurt more when I say anything remotely negative about them- but surprisingly I wasn’t biased, I think.

After this critique I will either do Adam next or the redesigns I failed to make in some posts of mine along with the ones I’m not satisfied with such as Blake, Yang, and Neo.

RWBY Archives

Hm. Hm, Hm, Hmm. Interesting.

Tyrian is just a straight up scorpion with nothing compelling to note. They’re allergic to saying anything compelling.

I guess his role in the story and personality says more about his design, he’s got an attire that fits his combat style beautifully where nothing is dangling to his hip or boot to be flying around when HE flies around. His shirt with the smallest cuts to his collar tells me that it’s pretty tricky to land a hit on him… but the exposed chest to show his scars, showing he’s proudly survived worse than whatever his next opponent can do to him. I love it. I also gotta mention that Tyrian is a serial killer, and he very much gives the impression of being a hunter rather than a huntsman. When you’re running from Grimm and see this man, even with weapons, you’re not gonna get the impression that he’s a huntsman coming to save the day but instead the one who started the panic for Grimm to come in the first place.

Now uh… where’s the purple? 

Hair

His model is gorgeous- ahem! I mean his model is gorgeous! 

His braid isn’t modeled horribly like Weiss’ which thank the stars, but maybe it’s just too dark for me to properly see and judge but I’m gonna assume it looks good!

You can tell the animators have the easiest time animating Tyrian in combat as they don’t have to worry about animation limitations with the model. He doesn’t have large coattails like Yang and when he does, such as his brown coat that he wears occasionally, it doesn't seem to get in the way! It’s amazing they can animate Tyrian with a jacket so well but they can’t with Weiss’ dress or even Neo in a coat without it looking clunky.

Primary Color - Purple?

I LOVE the color purple, it’s the best color to ever exist and I will not hear any slander that it isn’t. Now why in everything that I love did they just go with BROWN??? Tyrian is suffering from a Yang problem, stuck in brown except Yang is better off given her hair/gauntlets at best, Tyrian just has his eyes… and it’s not even the correct shade of purple that he’s named after. 

The only time he’s ever touched tyrian purple is when he was in Salem’s castle and whale where the lighting was much fitting to the color. I don’t understand why they didn’t put the tiniest bit of purple like making his hair a super dark shade of it or a gradient or a small streak like Ren’s pink hair. I would’ve tolerated a random bandana slapped on his knee if it meant my man could wear the best color!

There’s “theories” that the purple is symbolic of his “true nature” where he’s actually hiding it deep within him which is why he doesn’t wear it for a surprise element- yeah no, he’s introduced as someone already unhinged, why are we gonna use his main color as a metaphor? Have the purple eat him up! Look, LOOK! PURPLE! I got him in purple and it did not kill me.

Negatives?

Here’s the part where the bias is just gone-ish, I tried guys, I really do.

This outfit is lovely for Mistral but why is it still kept when he gets to Atlas??? The coat he wears doesn’t even protect anyone from a harsh winter, at best it protects one from a windy walk in the woods. Why did everyone in Salem’s council get a new outfit but Tyrian doesn’t? This man is gonna freeze and maybe I can write it off as Tyrian not caring about what his body goes through. He’s proven that he’s willing to dislocate his thumb just to do Salem’s work.

So I guess the next point of issue is the bandages. I assume Tyrian has scars beneath the bandages and if that’s the case, why hide em? The scars on his chest weren't an effort to cover up? Now maybe it’s just a fashion choice like how Oscar and Cinder do it, or maybe the scars on his arms have an in-universe reason as to why they’re covered compared to his chest. I’ll just have to wait and see but it is pretty… odd? You know with the whole aura rules and the fact I just find bandages to not be a so stellar design choice in RWBY, especially when there’s no scars to begin with but I could be wrong!

Redesign

So due to the law of “No One Being Allowed To Scroll Down To My Old/Bad Art-” I did redesign Tyrian in the past with little to no change other than just wearing purple cause that was my only issue with the design at the time. This is also just a redesign for him in Mistral than in Atlas. Now it’s just somewhat a complete overhaul as I got him to be tanner to show he’s from Vacuo cause obviously why not? He’s from the desert. His accented color is black as it makes him a lot cooler and dangerous! It also got the purple to pop up way more than what the brown hues did. His eyes are also permanently purple because take a shot on how many faunus characters have yellow/golden eyes already. I do think the redesign is just not enough, his boots especially as his prior ones made him be more protected, but also I did say this was nearly a complete overhaul- if people really wanted to, don’t be afraid of genderswapping the members of Salem’s council. After all Salem needs the maiden powers so why surround herself with dudes than with maiden candidates? I kept Tyrian the way he is because I do try to stick to canon as much as possible. That’s just me- changing outfits but not the story as much as possible.

Conclusion

I love him, I really do, if his name was something like Taupe there’d be no issue but my man aint wearing the best color alive cause it seemed whoever designed him wasn’t given his name until afterwards where they slapped purple on him as a last minute decision to his eyes. It’s frustrating.

Other than that, his design still says a lot about him that I can adore. From the braid resembling a scorpion tail to the scars on his chest that scream “DANGER” to any of his next victims, it does carry him a lot. It just doesn’t carry him well when they get to Atlas, what a shame.

But of course it’s just my opinion. If you love this design or hate the design, please share your opinion. I’d love to hear it! 

[cultkinkcoven]

me: so what is your perspective on everything? Does it not offend or disappoint you at all to have self identifying as Luciferians and Satanists denying your influence, our relationship, your principles? Or do you not care?

Lucifer: The argument you were making is that we should empathize with all people, right? You are capable of empathizing with people who are not good, who you don't like, who you may not even respect. You are comfortable still recognizing those who you don't like at all. For you, empathy is not endorsement of the people you like but acceptance and understanding of all people as people, even the people you hate. You do not need to obsessively align yourself with virtue or goodness to recognize.

me:... yes? I think I'm missing the point.

Lucifer: I am the King of Hell. I do not like or love everyone who belongs in my sphere, I don't like most of the people I have to deal with. Not liking them doesn't mean I must turn away from them, it means I don't like them. So, in this context of so called Luciferians despising you for living Luciferianism, for embodying my essence more authentically than what is comfortable, to me, is a much needed reminder to everyone. In fact I employ my chosen to stir up their own cult so my followers don't get lazy. Just because you call yourself a Luciferian, just because you think you know me, doesn't mean you do, doesn't mean I like you. Those people acting that way doesn't necessarily disappoint me, because that would imply that I already had raised expectations. I already know who is and isn't truly aligned with me. But I am not concerned at all with telling people what they can identify as. Those people can claim to be Luciferians. They can claim to be anything. What is a name? Claiming to be a Luciferian doesn't mean you understand my essence, it doesn't mean you necessarily actually make me proud or embody me. It only means you have identified with me in some way. Celebrities can have lots of fans, that doesn't mean they know all of their fans. In the same way that you do not like or moralize all those you empathize with, I am not within all those who claim my name. My name will always remain free, that's the way I want it to be. People can wear it as much as they want. It doesn't mean all that much to me to be adored. I am amazing, I should be adored. I am. I restrain my efforts and concern to those who want to do more than just adore me.

me: so it does not bother you at all that these people make claims about who you are and what it means to serve you?

Lucifer: Do I care about misinformation? Hm, maybe a little bit. But anyone who is truly interested in me and my truth will not be swayed by misinfo. Learning how to determine what is and isn't true within your craft is Luciferianism itself. Ironically, without these people, my truly chosen would not be tested enough. They can be ... annoying I suppose. But I am not compelled to stop them. I allow falsehood to exist because the pursuit of truth requires contrast.

me: Do you think I possess the right to speak about who I believe you to be in absolutes to your other followers?

Lucifer: The right? Yes. Everyone has the right to speak. You could talk absolute nonsense if you wanted to. Everyone is going to project their own idea of what and who I am. The only difference is what sticks and works. You can tell your followers that I hate gay people. That won't work very well for them when they meet me. You can tell your followers that I believe in radical empathy. They will discover this to be true when we interact.

Me: but what if they don't? What if they happen to interact with a Lucifer that is different from my own and then believe that you do in fact hate gay people and don't believe in radical empathy?

Lucifer: Then that Lucifer is irrelevant to the original conversation about your Lucifer. Everyone has the power to decide what Lucifer means to them. You will not agree, perhaps you shouldn't. I have always been against the idea of singlified dogma. I believe that everyone should be able to decide who I am in their own craft. But that doesn't mean I don't value education or the defending of my honor. That means I will never stop someone from saying what's on their mind, even if I myself disagree.

The answer you're looking for is that, at the end of the day, I choose my chosen people. I am the one in charge of determining who does and does not get to know Lucifer. Not you. Not any of your little friends. The only conversations that truly matter to me are the ones that are held with me.

me: and what about my sharing of our conversations?

Lucifer: People are inspired to come to conclusions based on what you say is said between us. They also have the freedom though, to disregard everything you say was said by me. You can only write about your experiences, the reason why so many people have stuck around you is because something you said reined true for them. They related to you, they agreed with what you described. I will never indulge you with the ego trip of saying you are the realest and everything you say is the most true. However, those who have aligned themselves with you do so because what you said was true to them. It will not be for everyone. But I can at least say that I am fond of most of your friends.

me: hm... do you think I'm doing a good job?

Lucifer: Do I think you are? Yes, yes I do. I personally think you are doing exactly what you were meant to. But objectively, no, you are not doing a good job or a bad job, because you're not doing a job. All you are sharing is the things that have reined true for you, and that is all you can do. If your perspective is determined to be truth, it will be because other people recognized it, not because I declared it.

me: hm.

[thegamingcatmom]

Vampire!AU where Mother Miranda takes you as her bride.

...

That is all.

.

.

.

JK-

Right so:

Miranda is obv. the Vampire Queen or whatever.

Alcina and her daughters are vampires too, obv.

So are the maids that were canonically experimented on. (Miranda gotta have some numbers.)

Since we got vampires in there, we also gotta have werewolves, right?

-> Enter Heisenberg and his lycans.

Sal is the butler (aka: The heart and soul of the house, bless him).

Donna is...a mystery.

"The Mold" is basically Miranda´s nest

Eva is alive and kicking.

And a vampire too.

She can be...scary.

Just like Momma.

The "vessel" operation is still going strong. However-

It´s her long deceased wife Miri´s trying to bring back.

Reincarnation style, if you will.

Uhhh, what else...OH-

The villagers are under some sort of vampiric mind control (aka the mold?) that allows Miranda and her coven to feed on them undisturbed.

-> Enter MC (aka The Disturbance).

aka: The bane and salvation of Miranda´s existence.

Miranda is hooked right away for obv. reasons (points to the aforementioned wife thing).

(Eva will be overjoyed to learn her Mama has returned.)

She must have MC.

Their wedding shall be a grand celebration for the whole village to see.

A celebration fit for royalty, as it should-

MC: "Uhhh...excuse me?"

Miranda: *gradually snaps out of her frenzied inner monologue to blink at MC with a mix of confusion and reverence*

MC: "I´m looking for a dude called Heisen...*checks her palm* ...bur-BERG. HeisenBERG. Do you know where I can find him, by chance?"

Miranda: *slow blinking*

MC: *slow blinking too*

Miranda: *remembers this is her soon-to-be bride*

Miranda: "Ah...forgive my...manners. *awkward smile cause being nice is indeed quite awkward, bride or not*...Heisenberg, you say? Why, yes...I am quite familiar with that...man."

Miranda: *fights back an instinctive hiss! cause werewolf*

...

MC: "...O-kay...? Can you tell me where I can find him, then?"

Miranda: *slow blinking*

MC: *slow blinking too*

Miranda, getting sus: "...And to what possible end, if I might ask?"

MC: *tf is that question*

MC, getting annoyed: "...Because I asked...?"

Miranda: *eye starts twitching as she fights back the urge to lash out at the sheer audacity-*

Miranda: *...soon.to.be.bride*

...

Miranda: "...Of course... *dark fake chuckle*...You shall find him in that factory of his. *points down the road* Follow this trail until it splits, then proceed to the right, where you will come across a large windmill. From there, it is rather impossible to miss."

Miranda, under her breath: "Unfortunately..."

MC, who is totally not weirded out by now: "...Okay...thanks. Uh...cya around?"

Miranda: *wedding bells*

Miranda: *satisfied smile starts spreading*

Miranda: "Hm...cya, indeed..."

MC: "..."

Miranda: "..."

MC: *slowly turns around and continues down the road*

Miranda: "...Little bat?"

MC: *stops in her tracks*

MC: *hesitantly turns around cause, despite being the only other person present besides Strange Lady, she still doubts whether that nickname was actually meant for her cause...whut?*

MC: "...Yes?"

Miranda: *satisfied smile becomes even more satisfied because her term of endearment has been accepted*

Miranda: *turns serious all of a sudden*

Miranda, doing her vampire compelling thing: "...Tell me."

MC, without hesitation: "He´s my uncle."

...

Miranda:

.

.

.

This was supposed to be a sexy vampire thing and then it turned into reincarnation & vampires vs werewolves with MC in the middle of it all cause our girl might just be the only one capable of uniting their worlds and ending a war that has been raging for centuries.

(Could this war have anything to do with a certain someone dying at the hands of a certain someone else? Good question. 🤔)

And it all starts with a (rather questionable) marriage.

THAT IS ALL.

.

This post was brought to you by The Invitation - a (rather poorly made) movie about vampires.

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.

EDIT:

NO BUT LISTEN-

Miranda going "I'll take what is due", just like she did in Resi Village? Except what is "due" is her wife, who died at the hands of one of the lycans? Or even Heisenberg himself??

Miranda going "I've waited so long for you..." when she meets MC, just like she did in Shadows of Rose when she met Rose??

THOUGHTS FEELS IDEAS 😭

(Dammit, I might actually have to write it now cause I am OBSESSED. 😩🤌)

[demonslushh]

HMS design sketches!

My mind Design has changed a bit since last time, if you remember my last post. But I would like to say, I have lots of explainations as to why I designed these guys the way I did.

I'll explain below the cut! Consider this a mini-analysis, especially regarding soul. If you guys are interested more in my breakdowns of lyrics and like this analysis, let me know so I can post my takes more, haha. I have lots to say about this album, but having some feedback might help me feel motivated to actually post my analyses!

Alright, so here we are. I'd like to say that, first off, Heart and Mind's designs are pretty self-explanitory — And mostly based off of personal headcanon. Albeit, there are a couple little details I want to highlight.

First, the angel/fallen angel imagery. I talked about this in a past post when I posted my previous mind design, and I really wanted to keep it. Something I noticed in fandom designs is that Heart would have a lot of Angelic traits and Mind didn't, which is totally fair, but I liked the idea of playing with the concept of a fallen angel/"dark" angel theming with him since they're represented as opposites in every other way.

I also do like the idea of Mind being a fallen angel based on a few themes through his story — Particularly in Be Born when he states that he once was in control. The prospect of him being pushed out of power at some point feeds well into this theming.

The other aspect I'd like to highlight is regarding Heart's "Face" and Mind's Chest.

Heart does not have a head in my design, and Mind's chest is completely hollow. I thought that it would be interesting to remove the other's main attribute from each of their designs — So heart does not have a head and, therefore no sort of physical brain, and Mind has no heart in his chest. Again, this was moreso just a headcanon choice, I think it plays into their stark divide during cocophany more. It was fun.

Now, for my favorite aspect: Soul.

My choices for his design do require a bit of explaination based on my analysis of lyrics throughout songs, so I will do just that.

I believe that soul is not a unique entity. Soul is not a third part of the whole — Rather, he is a "hallowed" out version of Whole, and only really exists when Heart and Mind are split, because they split out of him, not just from eachother.

Here's why I think this:

The way that Soul is discussed as opposed to the other three is different in many instances, which is why I've vnever really seen him as a unique Third part, but just a husk of whole.

In the first instance, Mind is saying that he and heart split into "two parts". (of course this could just be the matter of how early on Be Born was written, but ... Shhh.) To me, this says that Soul never "split" into a part — So then, what did happen? This line makes a lot more since when you consider the idea of Mind and Heart splitting off and leaving Soul as a product, rather than a third full party.

Second and Third refer to how Soul describes himself/Is described by others. The second example, from Storm and a Spring, I think is the most compelling evidence that made me really commit to this idea of Soul — "And Oath formed from us both that it would stay whole." This essentially directly states that Soul would be Whole, if not for Mind and Heart's split. And the third example says that Heart and Mind reside within him, which is just another supporting example to the other two points.

So for that reason, My Soul design is essentially "hollowed" — The open void in his chest has no heart or anything resembling it inside, and his mask is half cracked open to show Mind's vacancy as well. He still maintains a few traits from each of them, like one broken wing and one whole wing, having each of their halos, and two sets of arms — one organic and one robotic.

And yeah, that's sort of it. Hope you guys like them :D!

(I may render these later, too. Depends on where motivation takes me, haha.)

[tossawary]

I found a beaten copy of the "Star Wars: Shadows of the Empire" novel (set between Ep5 and Ep6) in the thrift store and I'm trying to read it. I thought, "Oh, this was written in 1996, so that's before the prequels or any of the more recent shows. Even if this isn't good, it's not a long book, and it'll be interesting to catalogue some of the differences in world building and vibes."

And then I actually tried to read it and, uh, I would call the writing "competent on a basic level but not sophisticated". Like, I was trying to read some of the "Jedi Apprentice" novels earlier and I guess I was expecting, hm, something a little more advanced than those books? It's serviceable! There are many turns of phrase that I enjoy! It's just not as compelling stylistically or in world building as I might have hoped. And it wasn't long into the book before I was like, "Oh, right. Ah. Hm. I forgot what it was like to read Older Sci-Fi Written By A Straight Man. Of course, the main villain has a human-looking killer droid assistant who looks like a sexy blonde woman! Of course he does! Of course!" None of the characterizations are great, but the Leia POVs are making me since.

I'm having trouble taking the main villain seriously because he's just... he's just not interesting. Prince Xizor's secret backstory where his family's deaths were Darth Vader's fault are revealed to us in Chapter 3 via narration, he's just thinking about it, and it's like, "Well, that seems like it could have been saved for a more dramatic reveal later." And generally, he's such a Batman Gary Stu of a character so far: he's an unfathomably wealthy businessman, he's also an interstellar crime lord, he's also a master of martial arts, he's got an impeccable poker face, he's Vader's rival, he knows everything because he has spies everywhere, and the narration takes the time to tell us twice in 3 chapters that he is (and his species is) very, very sexy. Reader, you MUST know this. Trust us.

And I was reading these descriptions of him thinking, "This style of introduction reminds me almost EXACTLY of something else... but what...? OH. He's getting introduced like a HARLEQUIN ROMANCE NOVEL MALE LEAD." Which is super funny because Wikipedia claims this villain is supposed to try to seduce Leia later in the book; an attempt that the publishers apparently wanted to be successful but the author refused to do, fearing fan backlash. Which is just... thank fucking goodness, I WOULD have been pissed off, yes. WHY would Leia fuck this guy? Everything about him suggests she would choke him with a chain like she will with Jabba the Hutt. Let this woman have her loser smuggler with a heart of gold boyfriend!!! I hope she gets to shoot at this guy for a seduction attempt, but that won't make up for how incredibly boring this character is to read about in his every single scene.

[more-mara]

Omg what tag is that. My favorite writer matching my freak.

Cockwarming Oscarmark 🫣 Oscar being horny and Mark’s like yeah if u want it that much then don’t let him come! Oops who said that.

Erm…anyways 🫶

Mark knew that morally this was wrong. That fucking a guy half your age who you're supposed to be managing was somewhat a conflict of interest but Oscar was addictive- so beautiful and pliant as he lay under Mark, cock hanging heavy between his legs as he got fucked within an inch of his life. Soft moans falling from his lips with every harsh thrust as he begged for release, eyes a little glassy and unfocused. Mark was only a weak man, who could blame him with such a sight underneath him.

But Oscar was, for lack of a better word, insatiable. It felt like he was horny all the time and maybe Mark was just getting old, his body not cut out to go at it for three rounds anymore despite how beautiful and compelling Oscar looked every time he begged for Marks cock.

It was often that Mark would get cornered in the garage, have Oscar leaning in to whisper something nasty in his ear before looking at him with big innocent doe eyes as if he hadn’t just asked if Mark would fuck him over his car despite the rather large number of engineers around them. Or sometimes, after a good race, Oscar wouldn’t give Mark a choice, would just show up at his hotel with a condom and a bottle of lube and bend over the nearest piece of furniture- stretching himself with careful fingers as Mark watched on, mouth agape as he wondered for the millionth time how he, of all people was able to bag a gorgeous 23 year old who, all consumingly wanted him.

Mark often wondered if he was even able to give Oscar what he wanted, his body was not as spry and flexible as it used to be and sex had become something more like a workout- he couldn’t fuck Oscar the same way he would have been able to if he was 20 years younger.

“Mark, I did well, didn’t I?” Oscar asked, and the question was innocent enough but the glint in Oscar’s eyes as he leaned in to rest his chin on Marks shoulder was an indication otherwise.

“Yes…you did,” Mark said suspiciously, not taking his attention away from the television as he tried to ignore the weight of Oscar’s dainty hand as it came to rest on his thigh.

“Don’t I deserve a reward? For driving so good?” Oscar asked, his voice sultry in tone as he placed a small kiss on Marks neck. Mark sighed, closing his eyes momentarily to try and steady himself.

“Hm, maybe you do,” Mark replied, still not looking at Oscar who was starting to squirm a little where he sat, clearly riled up- desperate to be fucked.

“I fingered myself already, you wanna take me? You can just slide right in, I’ve already done the hard part,” Oscar said, his voice quiet but steady and Mark didn’t bother to argue that the hard part for him was the actual sex- particularly when Oscar only ever wanted it rough, moaning ‘faster’ or ‘harder’ despite Mark pounding him as fast as he could.

“Mark, please,” Oscar whined impatiently, ghosting his hand over Marks crotch. Mark could feel his cock twitching in interest as Oscar placed another sloppy kiss on his neck.

“If you want it so bad, come and take it,” Mark grunted, watching as Oscar scrambled to remove both his own and Marks jeans, exposing Marks now half hard cock. Oscar clambered into his lap, all limbs as his ass started to grind down on Marks cock. Mark let out an oof as Oscar sat down on him with force. He gave a sheepish apology before guiding the leaking tip of Marks cock to his already stretched hole.

The picture as he sank down was something so beautiful that mark was sure he could die right now and be content, watching as Oscar’s face scrunched up as he took him inch by inch, sweet little moans falling from his reddened lips. Once Oscar had take his full length, he lay his head on marks shoulder, panting heavily with a small whine as he got used to the stretch. Mark felt when Oscar’s thighs started to flex- an indication that he was ready to move. Hands were gripping Oscar’s waist immediately, holding him down on his cock.

“M-mark?,” Oscar stuttered, both confused and incredibly turned on from being held down on Marks length.

“Stay still, my good boy,” Mark whispered, holding him firm. Oscar wriggled in his hold, grinding himself down on marks cock. Mark tutted at him which halted the younger boys movements immediately.

“Mark?” He questioned again, his beautiful brown eyes misting with lust as he stared at Mark, in all his gorgeous glory.

“My boy, my beautiful beautiful boy,” Mark whispered as he dragged a hand along Oscar’s jaw- Oscar leaned into the touch, his eyes slipping closed.

“Please, Mark, want you to fuck me,” Oscar said, eyes still screwed closed as his thighs shifted a little- cramp starting to build in them.

“If you can sit here and not cum, I’ll give you what you need,” Mark said and Oscar had to bite down his moan of complaint- he knew mark wouldn’t change his mind, the stubborn old man.

Oscar breathed in deep, settling himself into Marks hold as he huddled into his chest, his face in Marks neck. Marks arms wrapped around him, cuddling him close.

“That’s my boy,”

[veliseraptor]

December Reading Recap

It's not that late in the month! It's still January!

long-ass post cause I read a lot last month; putting it under a read more to save your dashes.

Feast of Souls and Wings of Wrath by C.S. Friedman. I've really enjoyed this series so far, which has been sitting on my shelf forever because it shares an author with the Coldfire Trilogy, which I love. I read a complaint about it that was criticizing the fact that the male characters are less well developed than the female characters, which is, to be fair, kind of true, but also the female characters are pretty great so I'm not really complaining. It's got some gender issues as one might expect from a early 2000s fantasy series, but fewer than I would've feared, and it's interesting enough in terms of the worldbuilding and story it's telling that I've put in the effort to track down the books (which aren't the easiest to find anymore). Looking forward to reading the last one, slightly delayed by my used copy getting lost in the mail.

Super-History: Comic Book Superheroes and American Society, 1938 to the Present by Jeffrey K. Johnson. I don't know why I keep reading books about superhero comics when they keep disappointing me, but for some reason I do keep doing it. Very shallow analysis and I learned absolutely nothing new from this book. I suspect I spent too much on it. Ah well.

Silver in the Wood by Emily Tesh. Me and novellas have a love-hate relationship - when I like them I really like them but a lot of times they don't work for me. I've had this one on my shelf for quite a while and was pleasantly surprised by how much I liked it. A lovely little story with the texture of a fairy or folk tale.

Seduced by Story: The Use and Abuse of Narrative by Peter Brooks. This book was interesting but not quite what I was hoping for - I wanted more of a dissection of the way that the tendency to narrativize everything can be problematic (in the academic sense) but I felt like that ended up being less the focus than I wanted it to be, and that there were fewer examples of the trend than there could have been. I think I found the first chapter the most compelling of the five, personally.

When Women Were Dragons by Kelly Barnhill. I really enjoyed this book while I was reading it and then read a bunch of critical reviews and was like. Hm. Maybe this wasn't that good after all. So I'm not sure what to make of that - either my own taste is bad or I was just enjoying the ride too much at the time to notice. I suspect the latter might be the case. Not that it was bad, but it was certainly a somewhat shallow and obvious metaphor, and I feel like the return of the dragons halfway through the book ultimately weakened the book as a whole.

Bird Box by Josh Malerman. Not my favorite work of horror but I did love that (a) everything remained unexplained all the way through to the end and (b) the sustaining of tension was impeccably done. I powered through this book in a single plane ride, pretty much, because the pacing dragged me through it without wanting to stop.

The Empress of Salt and Fortune by Nghi Vo. I've had this novella on my shelf for ages too, and while I didn't love it quite as much as I expected to based on the responses I've seen elsewhere, it was a good one, and actually felt well suited to a novella (which is sometimes my issue with them). I'm going to be picking up the sequel, when I get the chance.

Daughter of the Forest by Juliet Marillier. Apparently this past month was the month of (a) picking up books that'd been sitting unread on my shelf for a while and (b) fantasy books from the early 2000s. I enjoyed this one but wasn't overly impressed by it, on the whole; certainly not enough that I'll be picking up the following in the series, though that's partly because what drew me to this one in the first place was the conceit of the fairy tale retelling. And I will say that, of the fairy tale retellings I've read - and I've read a fair amount - this was one of the better ones.

The Hunter by Tana French. Been a long time since Tana French, and also I always forget how much I like reading mysteries until I read another mystery. Also how much I like Tana French. I really liked this one and I'm glad I finally got around to it.

Orbital by Samantha Harvey. Read this little novel on a recommendation from my father and while it's certainly not my usual fare I'm glad I did. I'm not totally sure what to make of it as a whole but just in terms of the reading experience, and the prose itself, it was a pleasure to read.

The Secret History of Moscow by Ekaterina Sedia. Yet another book that I've been meaning to read for literal years! I don't even remember when I picked it up or why, I think it was sort of an impulse purchase possibly based on a blurb comparison to Neverwhere. I didn't love it but I'm glad I read it just the same - there's definitely something about the texture that reminded me a little of Sergei Lukyanenko's books, which I remember really liking and now kind of want to reread. I wonder how hard those are to find these days.

Black Water Sister by Zen Cho. Definitely one of my favorite books I read last month. Possibly the favorite. I really liked Zen Cho's other work I've read but I think this is my favorite of hers, and definitely comes with a recommendation - also cements that I'm going to be looking for more of her work in the future.

Wonder Woman Unbound: The Curious History of the World's Most Famous Heroine by Tim Hanley. Yes, another history of comic books and another...well, it wasn't as much of a disappointment as the other one, but I still found it fell short of what I wanted, particularly in the analysis of more modern comics. The skating over of Greg Rucka's run felt particularly egregious to me, personally, and I don't think that's just because I really like it. I did learn some things from it, but on the whole found it less than edifying.

The September House by Carissa Orlando. One of my other favorite books of the month and one of the better works of horror I've read in a while - the profoundly unreliable narrator and the gradual reveal of just how unreliable is very well done. I'm not sure that the twist on the twist worked for me - that it wouldn't have been better with just the twist - but I felt the book was well done enough to earn the benefit of the doubt on that front.

American Scary: A History of Horror, from Salem to Stephen King and Beyond by Jeremy Dauber. Better than the last history of American horror I read, but still not particularly outstanding in terms of the actual analysis, and I didn't learn a whole lot that was new from my other readings on the topic.

The Bright Sword by Lev Grossman. I've not read any Lev Grossman before because I heard pretty mixed things about the Magicians Trilogy, but my sister recommended I give this one a try and I'm glad I did. I'm not deep in Arthuriana, and perhaps someone who was would feel differently (and I'm not totally sure how I feel about the ultimate antagonist choice), but I liked the way that it used lesser known/more obscure knights and I'm always a sucker for a good aftermath-of-a-collapse story. I guess that's the post-apocalypse literature fan still in me despite the fact that I haven't read much of that genre recently.

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun: Vol. 7 by Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou. I'm so glad that we've hit this point in this novel. I'm especially glad because it's now passed the point where the human translation stopped so I can actually read something that's not a (cleaned up) machine translation. But mostly I'm glad because this is the point of the story where things really get juicy (for me, specifically). As usual, the next volumes can't come out fast enough (but also please, translators, take your time).

Challenger: A True Story of Heroism and Disaster on the Edge of Space by Adam Higginbotham. I read Midnight in Chernobyl and really liked it, so I was excited to read this one and felt like I was suitably rewarded, despite being loosely familiar with the outlines of the central story. This book went more deeply into the lead up to the Challenger explosion, and how the warning signs were there for many, many years prior to the launch itself. Compellingly written piece of reportage.

Our Dogs, Ourselves: The Story of a Singular Bond by Alexandra Horowitz. I really enjoyed reading the previous book by this author, but I felt this one was a little...I'm not sure. Sentimental? Polemic? About the author's personal feelings rather than a more scientific/information angle? It was more a book of personal essays than anything else and while that might have been fine it wasn't what I was looking for.

Monstress, vol. 9: The Possessed by Marjorie Liu. Every time I read a new volume of this series I feel like I should go back and reread everything that came before. Continues to be That Good, though, and I'm going to be following this one for however long it goes, which still feels like it could either be a while or not that many more volumes. I'm not reading that many graphic novels these days but I'm happy to be keeping up with this one. If I felt like returning to my old vice (single issues) this would definitely be a series I'd follow month by month.

A Thousand Ships by Natalie Haynes. The entire time I read this book I kept thinking "The Silence of the Girls did it better" and that really, I feel like, sums it up for me. I just wasn't impressed! It wasn't actively bad, didn't contain anything that really pissed me off, but...just felt thoroughly mediocre, and I came out of it not sure what all the fuss was about. So I guess mark another Greek myth retelling down as a disappointment. (And yet, like comic book history, I keep reading them anyway.)

The Fisherman by John Langan. Two whole horror books I actually really liked this month! I've had this one on my list for approximately forever and I feel like it was worth the long wait for me to finally get around to it. I'm a little sad this author doesn't seem to have published anything else, because I would love to read more by him.

The Remaking by Clay McLeod Chapman. On the flip side, horror that was, while not unpleasurable to read, not particularly good. It was very much the definition of "fine." I don't regret the experience of reading it but I wouldn't recommend it either, and probably won't be picking anything else up by the same author.

Black Sun Light My Way by Jo Spurrier. I'm still excited about this series, currently reading the third one, sort of want to make other people read it but (a) it's not that easy to find and (b) I feel funny recommending it for reasons I can't fully articulate. But I definitely have a new terrible blorbo and a new even worse threesome ship and I'm sure there isn't any fanfic. Thank you so much @mongooseland for introducing me to this one.

---

So that's December, in books. Like I said, currently reading North Sun Guide Me Home by Jo Spurrier to finish out that series, and then I'm reading the next volume of QJJ that just came out in translation, and then I'm planning on The Legacy of Kings by C.S. Friedman to finish out that series, and after that...not totally sure. Might go back to trying to rotate through genres, but probably not. Maybe there's some more early 2000s fantasy that's been on my list for a while that I can read. We'll just have to see.