#i forgot there was mold in this episode

[greghatecrimes]

"Woah, check this stuff out. It's fuzzy, it's black, it's alive."

Anya Greghatecrimes 🤝 Dr Lisa Cuddy

Having black mold in their house (and specifically under the bathroom sink too)

[ichorai]

ménage à trois.

pairing ; lestat de lioncourt x vampire!gn!reader x louis de pointe du lac

synopsis ; “you turned him,” you said to lestat with a disapproving frown. louis was sleeping fitfully in a coffin between the two of you, skin charred and covered in dust and burns. lestat didn��t have to tell you—you put the clues together and figured out that louis had run into the morning sun without knowing what it would do to him. “you were always the selfish one, weren’t you? i could never have anything for myself.”

words ; 3.8k

themes ; angst, a bit of fluff, vampires, polyamory

warnings / includes ; super toxic throuple dynamics, blood/murder, covers the first two episodes of iwtv, reader is a writer, louis is infatuated <3 and lestat is well... lestat...

there will be a second part (claudia incoming)!

You met Lestat de Lioncourt in 1780—six years after he was turned, and three years after you. It was a wild and tumultuous affair the two of you shared. You and Lestat clashed just as much as you molded together. While he was possessive and greedy, you longed for freedom and space. Eventually, after many bloody rows, the two of you parted ways with reluctant, half-sincere promises of a distant reunion. 

Louis de Pointe du Lac was yours before he was Lestat’s, as he oft forgot. By 1908, you were a regular patron of his establishment in New Orleans—though less for the sex and more for the stories. The women there were immeasurably fascinating. With enough liquor and sweet talking, they would answer each and every burning question you had. When Louis caught wind of one of his customers bringing pencils and parchment of all things to the bedrooms, he’d confronted you about it, curious as to what you were doing to the working girls—especially when they always came out flush-faced and giggling.

“I’m a writer,” you told him with a sweet smile. Close-lipped, hiding your fangs. “I hope you don’t mind. The women here have lovely tales to tell.”

Louis returned the grin after a second to overcome his surprise. “I’m sure they do. Why here, though?”

“Your establishment has the highest rates of colored women. Not many are willing to listen to what they have to say.” You fiddled with the buttons on your jacket, and tipped your head down into a nod. “I’d best be leaving. The night is late, and the sun will greet us soon.”

“Not a morning person?” Louis asked, falling into step with you as you made your way to your convertible.

A huff of a laugh fell past your lips. “You could say that, yes.”

From then on, Louis went out of his way to greet you like clockwork. Every Wednesday and Saturday you came, bright-eyed and pencil ready. Those days, Louis watched you come by nightfall and leave before morning dawned, always making sure to exchange pleasantries. One of the nights, you asked if he had any stories to tell you—though there was little talking or writing that night. It was hard to jot down what he was telling you with his head between your thighs.

You were, by no means, a possessive vampire. You liked to keep your options open and drift from place to place. But around a year and a half later, you heard of Lestat landing in New Orleans, sucking the furniture stores and libraries dry—and setting his eyes on Louis. Your Louis.

You and Louis were not lovers, and the same would apply to your and Lestat’s relationship. You would say you were far closer to being friends with the two than lovers. Though… the prospect of love was not a far away concept to you. Not when it came to Lestat and Louis.

“You turned him,” you said to Lestat with a disapproving frown. Louis was sleeping fitfully in a coffin between the two of you, skin charred and covered in dust and burns. Lestat didn’t have to tell you—you put the clues together and figured out that Louis had run into the morning sun without knowing what it would do to him. “You were always the selfish one, weren’t you? I could never have anything for myself.”

“I’m sorry, did I spoil your little toy?” Lestat said, leering over you with a grin.

“He wasn’t a toy. He’s a friend.”

The blonde vampire’s hands reached out to caress over your face, soft and cold. “A friend that you fucked.”

“On occasion.” Your nose wrinkled. “You fucked him, too.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. It would have surprised you if Lestat hadn’t fucked Louis.

“Don’t be jealous, my darling,” he said, eyes glinting dangerously. “I’ll fuck you, as well. You need only ask. It has been a long while, no?” 

He kissed you then, tasting of sweet blood and sharp wine. As angry as you were with him, you didn’t push him away. With Lestat, it was hard to say no. That morning, you fell asleep in his coffin, limbs woven together. Come sunset, you were already gone.

It took you a few days to get around to forgiving Lestat. Louis made you softer—his inexperience to vampire life was ever so endearing to you. When you explained to Louis that you were also a vampire—one with a deep history with his maker, he stared at you with widened eyes.

“It’s no wonder I never saw you during the day,” he said, Lestat’s arm slung around his shoulder. “But why didn’t you kill any of my girls? How could you resist it?”

“Older vampires find it easier to resist temptation,” you told him with a dangerous, fanged smile. “Besides—I wanted their stories more than I wanted their blood. I can find food… elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere?” Louis glanced between you and Lestat, the first thought vanishing from his mind just as quickly as it came. “Wait, were you two—did you… did he turn you, too?”

A bark of a laugh fell from your lips. “Oh, Louis, my dear, no. Lestat may have left hundreds and thousands of fledglings in his bloody wake but I am not one of them. My turning will be a story for another time,” you assured him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Louis smiled and nodded as if he was in a daze. To his side, Lestat looked visibly annoyed. Whether he was jealous of you or Louis, you couldn’t tell.

Sharing is caring, you greedy whore, you said to him without moving your lips. Lestat only stared at you with those icy blue eyes and huffed out a dramatic sigh.

“Well, since the fledgling has already taken a liking to you, would you like to stay?” Lestat gestured around his decorated halls. “There is more than enough room here for three coffins.”

As always, saying no to Lestat was usually not an option. 

“You could just say you’d like me here. Don’t have to be dragging Louis into it,” you told him, patting his chest with a mocking simper.

“Yes, yes, fine—I’d like you to stay, as well. I’ve missed you terribly.” Lestat moved closer to you as if he was going to kiss you, but you leaned away at the last moment and grinned at Louis.

“Louis, hon, how about we get a nice fire started and you tell me all about what mean ol’ Lestat did to you the first few hours of your turning? I love hearing about new vampire experiences. It’s been so long I can hardly remember mine.” You offered Louis your arm and gestured to the living room. The man looked to Lestat, almost as if asking for permission, but turned away just as quickly to take your arm. 

Louis, in his hunger and youth, had impulsively killed an important man in town. Lestat had already angrily berated him enough whilst tossing the body into the cremator. You were more gentle with your approach, taking Louis’ hands and goading him to wash the blood off and change into a new set of clothes that weren’t soaked with his kill.

The amusing thought that you and Lestat were raising a child and parenting together briefly crossed your mind. But then again, the two of you had both fucked Louis before and were most definitely going to again in the future, so perhaps it wasn’t the best analogy. 

“Here, put this on.” you handed Louis, stripped naked and scrubbed of the blood, a fresh button-down whilst Lestat was off cleaning up the mess Louis had made. “That was real dangerous what you did back there, you know. You’ll get detectives sniffing around and swarming you like ants to a honey pot. They don’t take kindly to black folk, neither.”

“I know,” he said, shrugging on the shirt. “I was hungry.”

“I know,” you parroted, though your tone was considerably softer. You placed your cold palm against Louis’ face and he leaned into it for a few silent moments. “Just be more careful next time, alright? Lestat and I have centuries of experience between us—you can trust us.”

Louis’ face contorted at the realization. “Sometimes I forget that this is gon’ be forever. That I won’t just wake up and you two will be gone. That I’ll be human again and my brother will still be around and my ma would still be asking me to come over to her house for dinner every Sunday.”

“Forever isn’t always a bad thing,” you said, voice soft and soothing. “It is daunting, yes, but you still live from day to day just as the mortals do. You’ll grow more comfortable in your skin with time, I promise.” You hesitated to say the next few sentences. “Lestat, as much as you admire his strength, is just as afraid as you sometimes. He’s afraid of being lonely. I confess, I have been afraid to be lonely more than once myself, but I have made peace with the fact that I will be alone sometimes. Immortal life makes it inevitable. My point is, though… you aren’t alone. Lestat is not as godly as you think he is.”

“And are you?” Louis asked.

“Do you think of me as godly?” 

One of his shoulders lifted in a half-shrug. “Most of the time.”

“I’m still a person,” you reassured him. “Lost to time, perhaps, but a person nonetheless. And you are, too.”

Your words seemed to placate Louis, though only momentarily. He parted his mouth open to say more, but Lestat dramatically stormed in the room, expression still creased with anger. After decades upon decades of knowing him, you knew by now that he would get over it eventually—it wasn’t really that big of a deal. But Louis, quite shaken up by the kill and his maker furious with him, couldn’t shrug it off as easily as you. The two of them went to their respective coffins angrily. 

Hours later, whilst you were writing up drafts of your most recent discussions with a few townspeople, you heard the two of them quietly exchange words of apology and plans for the future from their coffins. You smiled down to yourself. The romance between them was strong, you knew. You wondered if you ever had the same connection with Lestat. Or even Louis. You were growing quite fond of him. And you’d always been fond of Lestat, even though he irritated you to no end. 

When Louis bought the most expensive, the biggest, and the brightest club in the district, he made sure to pay all the working girls and musicians twice what they earned before. The doors were now open to anyone, not just folks with light skin. And he even had a room especially booked for you—always decked with the finest pencils and pens and papers and books and the most heavenly chairs imaginable—Louis was a man who thought out your every need. It startled you to think that your fondness for him may be far greater than just fondness. How would Lestat feel about you falling in love with his fledgling? Louis was yours first. And before that, you and Lestat were also each other’s for a time.

With Louis still at the club entertaining guests, Lestat heard your thoughts as soon as you returned from your work—you didn’t bother hiding your mind from him, because he had ways of getting information out of you regardless. 

“I don’t mind,” he said, greeting you as you changed out of your attire into more comfortable clothes for home. He hung by the doorway for a moment before slinking closer to you, running his hands up and down your bare skin. “We can share, my love. I don’t mind—not with you. And I’m sure Louis wouldn’t mind sharing you with me.”

“Rather presumptuous of you,” you replied.

“Not presumptuous if you’re thinking it,” Lestat said, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, then several more up your neck. “Don’t resist us. It can be the three of us together. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“There’s a reason I left you in the first place,” you whispered. “You are possessive and mean when you want to be.”

Lestat tilted your face so his lips hovered just an inch over yours. “That may be true… but you’ll stay for Louis.” 

It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you better than anyone undead or alive.

“I will.” 

“Good,” he said, and then kissed you as if he was going to devour you whole.

Many moons later, you walked into one of the house’s many bedrooms, about to enquire if either of the vampires had seen your notebook lying around anywhere, when you saw Louis lying on the bed, tears of red slipping down his face. Lestat dabbed the blood away with a napkin.

“What’s going on?” you asked with a concerned tone, sitting down next to him on the mattress opposite Lestat. 

“My nephew,” Louis practically spat out the words as if they had scorched his tongue. “I was so afraid I would… I could hear his heart—his tiny little heart—and I wanted to rip it out and eat it. I’m a monster.”

There was a moment of silence as you studied the young fledgling.

“If you’re a monster, what does that make me?” you whispered, leaning down to press your nose to the back of his ear. “You didn’t kill him, Louis.”

“No, but I could have.” Another bloody tear slipped down his eye and slotted against his nose bridge.

Whilst Lestat wiped his face again, he said, “You have to stop seeing them, Louis. They’ll grow fearful of you if they haven’t already.”

“No,” said Louis, voice hoarse and quiet. “I can’t do it.”

“It’s a rite of passage for all of us,” Lestat went on. “If you love your family, as I know you do, spare them all the pain that you are causing them.” Knowing Lestat’s relationship with his mother, you found his words quite ironic. Louis didn’t need to know about that right now, though. 

“My siblings spent many decades looking for me once I ‘disappeared’,” you told Louis. “It hurt to distance myself from them, but I was protecting them.”

Louis glanced up at you. Sitting with your back to the lit fireplace, there seemed to be an angelic glow framing you. “I didn’t know you have siblings.”

“Had,” you corrected. “They are long gone now, though many of their children’s children and further generations remain. They lived long and happy lives even after I left.”

“I ain’t never gonna have a family of my own, am I?” Louis lamented. “No sons, no daughters.”

It was silent for a moment when you and Lestat locked eyes. The blonde looked back down at his fledgling. “We’re your family, Louis.”

“You should just throw me in the incinerator,” said Louis. “Make another one.”

“What a waste that would be,” Lestat remarked.

You nodded. “And if he did, I would rip him apart limb from limb. You are not replaceable, Louis.”

“The both of us have been on this Earth for around two centuries and we can confidently report that you have no twin,” said Lestat. “No one as angry, as stubborn, as unaccommodating, as maddening—”

Louis frowned. “Sound like trash to me—”

“—as loving, as dedicated, as thoughtful, as imperfectly perfect as you’ve become. You’re a challenge every sunset, Saint Louis. We’d have it no other way.” Lestat waited a second before nudging you to agree with him.

“Yes,” you jumped to say, perhaps a second late. “Louis, hon, I don’t want to force you not to see your family. You’re free to tell them the truth if you’d like. Let them see you as a monster, as a murderer—because they certainly won’t see you in the same way we do. I’m just saying… letting them go may be the less painful option.”

Louis squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled sharply. Though he said nothing, you knew that he knew you were right. 

“Here’s an idea… let’s take a holiday,” ventured Lestat. “What about Rome?”

“Rome sounds lovely,” you said with an excited grin. It had been a handful of decades since you last stepped in Europe. Most of your recent years had you traveling much of North and South America.

“Rome? Rome, like, Italy?” Louis said, cracking an eye open to scrutinize his lovers. 

“Would you prefer Rome, Wisconsin?” Lestat fired back, which made Louis sit up on the bed and shake his head.

“I can’t just pick up and go to Rome. I got a business to run!”

You snaked your arms around Louis from behind and pressed your nose into his neck. You could hear his thoughts of how nice you smelled and smiled against his skin. “I’m sure you have many trusted work buddies that can manage the Azalea for a few days.”

Louis and Lestat bickered some more about transporting the coffins after that, as if they were an old married couple. You only listened in amusement and kissed down Louis' jaw.

Finally, Lestat relented his plans of Rome and instead brandished tickets to another opera. 

“I can spend a few days apart from the two of you to go to Rome myself,” you said, arching your back as if you were a cat and sprawling down on the mattress to watch Louis and Lestat upside down. “I can bring back souvenirs. The Italians have the most divine oil paints—”

“Don’t go,” Louis blurted, interrupting you. “Don’t—not yet.”

For a moment, you studied him with curious eyes. His thoughts were telling you he wasn’t sure if he could handle being left on his own with Lestat without you. Codependency was a common trait amongst vampire couples, you knew this, but that didn’t mean it was at all healthy. Nonetheless, you reluctantly nodded. “Alright. I won’t leave. But we do have to get out of the country at some point—it’s important to see more than America, Louis.”

“With that, I concur,” Lestat chimed his agreement. Then, he seized both of your arms and began to drag you off the mattress until you laughed and twisted up to get onto your feet yourself. “Come, my darlings, I’ve had suits made for us.”

There was a methodology to going to the opera to keep eyes off of you. You would go in first, alone. Then Lestat, with Louis walking a pace behind him, masquerading as his valet. It was degrading, all three of you knew. But it was the early 1900s, and there was little more you could do without drawing attention from passersby. 

Though the opera was a cheap affair, you were considerably entertained until the tenor entered the stage and began to sing all the wrong notes. To your ears, which were sharp, but not suited to the intricacies of musical notes, his singing was strangely off but still fine. To Lestat, however, he was not at all amused. His jaw muscles clenched and his fingers curled and uncurled over the sheet music he had brought. One glance his way and you already knew he had made his mind on who would be that evening’s supper.

Hours later, when Lestat had taken the young singer to your hotel room, you wondered if he was planning on simply fucking some sense into him before biting into his throat. Instead, Lestat sat down by the piano and played the notes, forcing the singer to sing. He pointed out each and every flaw, tone growing harsher with each mistake. 

Louis watched the two with a nauseous stomach and an uneasy mind. You tried to pull him away to another room, tried to kiss him until he forgot about Lestat and his fixation on the poor man, but Louis’ mind was adrift.

“Louis, this is meant to be a vacation,” you reminded him, massaging your fingers over his tense shoulders.

“How can it be a vacation when he’s in the other room about to murder some guy for a note he sang offkey?” Louis asked, a tad too loudly for your preference.

“Lestat gets this way sometimes. You know this by now. He gets angry, he gets sucked in, he gets tunnel vision until something is done exactly how he wants it to be done. It doesn’t affect us, though, not really. Dinner is dinner, Louis.”

Louis crossed his arms. “You have animals for dinner most of the time. And you kill people who deserve it. Lestat, he just—that man could have a family, a whole life ahead of him!”

“The same could be said for the people I’ve killed,” you replied easily.

“No, no, it’s different!” he vehemently said. “You killed the rapists, the child-fiddlers, and even the slave-owners back when they were still around! Lestat, he—”

“I know,” you said, tone firm. “Louis, I know.”

“Do you, though?” Louis shook his head in incredulity at your nonchalance and walked back into the main room where Lestat had just struck the young tenor across his vocal cords, destroying them beyond repair. “Why do you do this, Lestat?”

The blonde licked the blood off his fingers. “Well, I like to do it. I enjoy it.”

“Well, I don’t,” said Louis. “You don’t have to humiliate him like that.”

In a burst of outrage, Lestat yelled, “Well, I don’t say that you have to enjoy it! Kill them swiftly if you have to, but do it! Embrace what you are! You are a killer, Louis!”

You walked into the room at that, brows furrowed. “Will you two stop it? All this yelling and drama—this was meant to be a vacation!”

“How can it be a vacation when we haven’t even left this damned country?” Lestat bitterly replied. “I should have gone to Italy with you and left Louis here to scavenge through corpses until he rotted away.”

“You don’t mean that,” you angrily said, volume rising. “You’ve had decades to temper your anger issues, and yet you haven’t changed a single bit!”

Lestat raised his nose in defiance, picked up the tenor (who had crumpled to the ground in a bloody heap), and swiftly carried him to the couch where he would slowly drain him of his blood. Louis took to sitting and watching the dying man’s last thoughts. A part of you wondered why, if he was so horrified by Lestat's cruelty, did he bother to stay and watch—though you didn’t stick around to ask. Instead, you retired to the bedchambers without saying goodbye to either of them. Lestat left you a chalice of the singer’s blood by your coffin as an apology of sorts, but it was left untouched. 

[ohdeerfully]

Spoilers ahead for the final episode!

Imagine reader being a healer for others but is cursed to not being able to heal themselves.

Like during the final battle, their skills are heavily relied on while they also fight along side them. Afterwards they rush to find their lover Alastor to heal the wound on his abdomen. Poor thing was so worried about healing him that they forgot about patching up themselves.

hello everybody im alive........... hello hold your applause /j

i got two very similar requests so i combined them into one! hope thats alright with the two anons! hugs and kisses

Stitches

alastor x reader (fluff) TW: nothing serious, just some briefly graphic(ish) descriptions of violence/gore, reader referred to as female but doesnt influence plot

join my discord!

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It was supposed to be “no big deal” for him; that’s what he had promised you. You worried, of course, but knew better than to pester and beg for him to change his mind. Plus… of all demons to hold back Adam, Alastor seemed like the most capable. You had to trust him. He promised.

You were in the midst of slaying an Exterminator of your own, cutting it down with a sword lined in angelic steel, but you couldn’t help that your train of thought kept returning to the Radio Demon, who was currently on the roof of the Hotel maintaining a forcefield that prevented more angels from joining the battle.

You allowed your eyes to glimpse up towards said roof even though you knew it’d be impossible to see him from your position on the ground. You had looked just in time, however, to see the shield that surrounded the battleground begin to dissolve, an opening blooming around the figure of Adam. 

A sickly cold feeling of dread churned down your spine and into your stomach, but you forced yourself to stay focused. Alastor would be fine, surely. It’s not like he said it was an invincible shield. You had other things to worry about, anyway, when you realized a wasp-like swarm of Exterminators had made their way in from the dissolving forcefield, their glittering white wings and shining angelic weapons molding together in a blur.

You fought along a small group of demons from Cannibal Town, providing aid and healing when possible. It seemed to go on for hours; stab an angel, tear one away from a companion, heal, stab, save, heal… it somehow began to feel monotonous and repetitive. Your whole body stung, littered with wounds ranging in extremity, but you couldn’t stop. Not if you were going to win this thing.

That monotony was broken when the chaos halted for a brief moment—not even a second. You had seen Charlie looking up in… fear? Shock? So, you looked, and your breath hitched. It took you a moment to process.

Why was Adam flying above, looming, grinning, analyzing… Why, when Alastor was supposed to be keeping him occupied? The immediate answer that came to mind brought back that sickening feeling from earlier, but increased a hundredfold. It seemed that Charlie also had a similar idea.

You couldn’t ignore the feeling this time and, against your better judgment, took off towards the crumbling Hotel, abandoning your position as healer. They could wait, honestly. The pounding in your ears and anxiety in your body clouded the sensation of angelic spears grazing past you, filling your already burdened body with more gashes.

You were halted by a powerful beat of wings, wind pushing you backwards onto your back. You scrambled into a sitting position, leaning on your arms. All of the aching, stinging pain from the night seemed to rush in all at once because of the interruption, and you could barely keep your eyes steady on the man in front of you.

The first man, at that—standing all too high-and-mighty above you, a twisted grin curling up his mask. 

“Hey, bitch,” He said almost casually, grabbing you by the hair and lifting you up to be eye level with him. You stifled a pained cry at the sensation, though your eyes filled with tears, betraying both your fear and pain. You hated yourself for looking so weak in front of Adam, but you were almost too exhausted to mask it.

“The fuck did you do to Alastor?” You talked through a mouthful of blood. You spat some out in his face, to which the grip on your head tightened but he seemed otherwise unbothered. You did see a glint of madness in his eyes, though.

“So you’re that fine babe of his?” Adam mocked, looking up and down tastelessly. You didn’t expect much more from the ‘dickmaster’ but you couldn’t help but feel disgusted. “Satan’s daughter told me all about you when she was trying to tell me you gross fucks could be redeemed.”

He started rambling out a multitude of insults and curses. It seemed fitting, you thought, that the stuck-up first man would be too full of himself to keep his guard up and just start going off on a tangent about how cool and awesome he is versus how gross and weak your kind is.

“I mean, the fuck? You all sucked ass at being alive, so why the shit would we let you up into heaven? And, quite frankly, too fucking ugly to live up th—” He choked on the last few words he had, his eyes widening in shock and pain. He dropped you to the ground.

During his rant you had managed to use your heel to kick up a stray spear from beneath you. His tirade had given you enough time to balance the weapon between your feet, aim, and jam it forward into his stomach. The robe he wore darkened, glistening gold seeping into the fabric and from the hole you punctured into him.

“You–” He spat, hovering his shaking hands around the impaled spear. He gingerly pressed a hand against the wound, lifting his bloody palm to his face to look at the mess. He looked up, down, up again, and took a quivering step towards you. There were a million expressions in his eyes all at once; rage, fear, pain, disgust… 

“You fucking bitch,” He took another step, reached a hand out towards you. “You can’t kill me! Nobody can kill Adam! You’re just a worthless, sick, good-for-nothing sinner that couldn’t—fuck!” He stumbled and fell forward, and you jerked away as his fist nearly closed around the hem of your shirt. As much as you hated the guy and wanted him dead, you still cringed at the sight of him falling onto the spear and impaling it completely through his body.

You heard a distant cry of his name, but you didn’t hesitate to see who it was. You took off into the hotel, albeit slowed by a painful limp, and made your way up the stairs towards the radio tower.

There was an ominous feeling in the air as you ascended the ladder into the nearly demolished tower, slowly opening the hatch into the room. An intense, static-y feeling smothered your senses, hair raising and skin prickling at the sensation. You ignored the uncomfortable feeling and peered around the dark room. 

Claw marks and a trail of blood caught your attention, leading your eyes towards a corner where the demon you wanted to see most sat against. He had been wordlessly watching you with glowing red eyes since you entered.

“Al,” You said almost breathlessly as you rushed forward, ignoring the way your leg shot pain throughout your body in protest. You fell gracelessly to your knees in front of him.

“I don’t want you here,” He said rather plainly, a hiss in his voice as he spoke through his teeth and a grimace of a smile. You ignored the comment, eyes traveling over his body before settling on his palm, which was pressed against his abdomen. There was a still-growing patch of dark blood seeping through his shirt and between his fingers.

You reached your hand out towards him, flinched to a halt for a moment when his claws tightened around the fabric of his shirt, but continued. He made no move otherwise to stop you, but you could feel the tension in the air growing as the static ambience got louder.

“I can take care of myself,” He said, his other hand suddenly snatching your wrist. His grin widened, but his eyes narrowed. You frowned at him.

“Yeah, but it’d be a lot easier for me to just fix you now,” You retorted, trying to jerk your hand away from his grip. He didn’t yield. “If you stop being so damn stubborn.”

“I’ve dealt with much worse, my dear,” He continued to convince you to leave him alone, his voice smooth with that manipulatively suave voice he put on sometimes. Unluckily for him, though, you were just as stubborn as him.

“But I’m here this time to help you,” You finally managed to free your wrist from him, your sharp expression unwavering from his own, which seemed equally aggravated. Maybe he was too weak to actually stop you, or maybe he actually did want your help and just wouldn’t admit it, but he didn’t stop you from lifting his bloodied hand from his wound.

You pursed your lips at the grizzly sight, but said nothing. You ignored the stinging smell of blood that flooded your nose. You hovered your hands over the wound, channeling the energy in your body that granted you the ability to rapidly heal others. A faint light flowed from your palm and into the gash across Alastor’s torso, forming glowing stitches that weaved throughout the damaged skin.

Periodically glancing up at his face as you worked, you watched for any sign that told you to stop, but it never came. He stayed silent the whole time, which was… rare, from him. You would never admit this out loud, but Alastor seemed almost… pitiful, in this silent, weakened state. The Radio Demon himself, reduced to a bloodied, passive husk of himself.

After healing so many demons during the battle outside, you had spent so much energy. You were already so weak and exhausted, but you pushed yourself to force just a bit more—

“There,” With a weak sigh, you sat back, admiring your own handiwork. Even though it was magic, it did take some mental ability to know how to use your power. “Was that so hard?” You chided him jokingly.

He gingerly drug a clawed finger down the stitches, analyzing it for himself. 

“I have to admit,” He began, looking up at you. “It would have been nice to have you in my early years as— dear?”

You barely heard what he was saying as all of your senses seemed to get foggy all at once. Your vision blurred and speckled, you ears felt muffled, and you swayed with lightheadedness. You pressed a hand to your face, trying to steady your breath.

“I’m good,” Your voice came out in a quiver. “I think I just—”

You don’t necessarily even remember fainting, but reason that you must have as you stared at the ceiling above you. You woke up ten minutes ago, and spent the time piecing together everything that happened. How much time has passed since then? A couple hours? Days? It was hard to say. Though, you thought as you looked around. The hotel looks… damn good all things considered. 

The door creaked open and your ears perked at the sound of a familiar voice humming some tune that you couldn’t recognize. Considering the atmosphere wasn’t tense, you actually welcomed the prickling, static-like sensation that Alastor’s presence brought. 

“Ah, the sleeping beauty awakes!” He announced pleasantly, setting a plate rattling with two neat little glasses of warm liquid on the bedside table. You eyed them and quirked your eyebrow.

“Seems you were ready for it,” You said, commenting on the fact that he brought two cups.

“Well, what kind of man would I be if I wasn’t au fait to my darling’s status?” He explained, clasping his hands behind his back and leaning over you. He would never admit that he brought up two cups every time he checked on you just in case. 

His overall demeanor seemed appropriately confident and indifferent, but his eyes held an uncharacteristic look of tenderness and worry as he looked over you, analyzing your condition. He sat at the edge of the bed, picking that plate up again and offering you a cup.

You sat up against the headboard and took it with a light smile, warming your hands on the smooth surface. You enjoyed the aroma of the tea, and you realized it was your favorite. How sweet.

The room was silent, save for the quiet sound of a radio that seemed to just… radiate from him… but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Now that you were sitting up, you took the chance to look down and over yourself. Bandages were wrapped tightly over your arms, chest, stomach, legs… basically everywhere. You were suddenly all too aware of the dull ache that afflicted your entire body.

When you looked up, you noticed Alastor had been looking at you rather intensely. His expression was weird and unreadable. You tightened your lips awkwardly at the strangely passionate look in his eyes, looking into random directions to try to ignore it. You tried to concentrate on taking another sip from the cup in your hand, bu, to your dismay, it was already empty. You sat it down on the plate.

“How’s my stitchwork holding up?” In an attempt to dissipate your own awkwardness, you reached towards his abdomen. He caught your hand gently, directing it away from himself. But he didn’t let go.

“No doctor in all of Hell could have done better,” He complimented. He still had a hint of that weird expression. “If only you could fix yourself up the same. Fortunately I have some experience from my time alive…” He trailed off.

You couldn’t contain yourself anymore, jumping forward and tightening your arms around his neck. The static in the air sharpened for a brief second, matching the tenseness in his body, but slowly returned to a normal frequency. After a few more seconds, you felt him slide his own arms around your waist, pressing you against himself.

“You scared the fuckin’ shit out of me,” You said, voice muffled by his coat. “I thought Adam killed you. I thought I was going to find your body buried under the rubble.”

“So you avenged me by killing Adam yourself? I appreciate it,” He remarked lightly, a slight chuckle rumbling from his chest. His voice was low, breath tickling your ear as he held you with a feather-light but somehow still firm grip. 

Alastor was quiet for another moment, and you realized the static in the air had completely dissipated. You also realized the pressure of his arms wrapped around you was getting increasingly tighter.

“You worried me as well,” He said finally. “You were out like a hibernating bear for days. You worried everyone.” You pulled your head out from the crook of his neck and met his gaze.

“Can’t a gal get her beauty rest?” You joked softly, bumping your shoulder against him playfully. He swayed for a moment at the contact, but the eye contact never broke. Wait, was he getting closer? 

Instinctually your eyes closed, and the briefest kiss was placed on your lips, then your nose, then your forehead. Before you could open your eyes, Alastor placed his hand on your head and pressed you back against his chest. He then began rubbing his hand gently on your back in a soothing motion.

Despite being in bed for apparently days, you still felt tired. You sank into him as his claws drug gentle shapes against your skin, careful to avoid bandaged spots. He hummed a quiet tune, and you noticed his microphone of a cane, which was laying against the bedside table, emitted an accompanying song.

“Maybe redemption isn’t all that,” You commented with a sigh, lazily picking at the hem of Alastor’s collar.

“Hmm?” He prompted you to continue.

“Is Hell really so bad if you’re with your favorite soul?” It felt corny to say, but you couldn't really find a better way to phrase it. Plus, you couldn't take this rare moment of tenderness for granted.

His hand paused for a moment, and he gently squeezed your arm in response. You felt him press another light kiss to the top of your head.

“I know, now,” He finally replied. “Just the feeling.”

[bonestrouslingbones]

so i have started rewatching SU with some friends and we just finished season 1. i was normal about it. on an unrelated note I Miss Her So Goddamn Bad

i think the funniest part about having a secret skeleton sex blog where i only talk about skeleton characters is that im not attracted to a single one of those freaks in any way. like not even a little. and ive said that before i know but the reason i bring it up again this time is because i definitely DO have characters i'm attracted to but if i posted those thoughts i think i would have to be put down

[sepublic]

People still ask how Belos died from being stomped on when he survived something similar in King’s Tide. People, Belos was still healthy enough to defeat the Hexsquad even when he was being drained of magic; He hasn’t retained any physical damage from the fight until the Collector steps in.

In S3 Belos is dying just from existing and needs a host, he’s still breaking down even when inside the host because he emerges from Raine in a worse state than when he entered;

(At the very least, Raine whistling Belos out of their body whittled down his form even further.)

It’s almost as if the crew emphasized in For the Future what a terrible state Belos was in, with him saying aloud he needs a host, to set up why he can’t survive the same injury he did last time. It’s like these details were here for a reason. Belos hasn’t had a Palisman in two months (something the show emphasizes he needs) and both the Day of Unity and Vee also drained his magic, the former doing it for a decent while uninterrupted no less. He did rebuild himself, but then Belos began to fall apart from starvation; He tried to address it by absorbing Flapjack —the show’s way of reminding you what’s missing— but Hunter stopped him and contributed to Belos’ death.

(So not only did Hunter assert his agency, he helped kill his uncle without having the additional trauma of directly doing/seeing it, and it led to Flapjack’s life force being left to save Hunter; So Hunter got Belos killed, saved himself, and stood up for himself!)

And after failing to absorb Flapjack, after leaving Hunter, does Belos try to fight Hexsquad despite not having to worry about a draining spell killing him, and having already won the first time with it? No, he runs away; Because despite initially looking the same, he’s much weaker and can’t win a fight in his state. And that leads to the next episode’s reveal that he’s dying and crumbling apart even after regenerating, or rather because he used up his energy to regenerate.

Even if Belos survived being stomped on, he’d just be a puddle of goop but be unable to build himself back up as he continued breaking down. There was nothing around and even if Belos possessed something, he’d still keep degrading the whole time until he dies truly, and at that rate the host might just wait for Belos to perish without needing someone to save them. Physical damage also hurts him, given being splattered is what prompted all of this; So being a skull, and then some droplets, that’s being stomped on would kill him. Belos is dead, he knew he was dead.

People also ask how Belos can turn back into Philip at the end and not only is it a literally paper-thin facade and the curse is there underneath. But they forgot he already did the same thing in King’s Tide by turning his face back around Hunter (but not his whole body, he’s being killed by his draining spell at that moment); But it falls apart fast, esp when angry. Only Palisman essence can fully turn Belos back into a human.

And we see the curse was overtaking him even in that state, and when Belos hides the mold on his face it re-emerges when he’s angry. He’s always had this ability, but it’s superficial and doesn’t last long. Belos can’t even truly hide the mold on his face when he’s human, he couldn’t tangibly turn back into a human when he was fully transformed, and he’s never going to, he can only create a facade.

Maybe Belos could’ve briefly turned young, but he always defaults back to his ‘natural’ state, which at first was an old human but over time has become the curse beast. Transforming at all takes up precious energy too, hence why Belos eating Palismen reverts him back; So what little life force he was running on was wasted appealing to Luz in the finale.

Finally, why didn’t Belos possess the Titan from the start? I don’t think he even knew he could do that until he had to figure it out during the two-month gap. He didn’t even turn into a monster yet when he decided on the draining spell with the Collector, his eyes just went blue as we see in the memories with Caleb, or his flesh writhed.

Belos always reverted his curse form with Palismen because he loathed and didn’t want to experiment with it. But after S2 his body began to break down, Belos had no other options, so that’s how he figured it out, and then applied that realization to the Titan’s heart in his castle after the Collector reminded him of it.

[gorgeouslypink]

Easy Method to Enter the Void (No Meditations, LOA, Subliminals, etc)

This post was supposed to be shared weeks ago but I totally forgot about it so please enjoy it now. I am on break still however.

link to original post: here

link to another bloggers explanation in more clearer terms: here

I consciously reached the void within 6 minutes of falling asleep (new record) easily via the Bob Monroe couch/recliner method I posted here before. I did it after no more than 3.5 hrs of WBTB. Unsurprisingly, this person also has the same experience of chilling in the void after WBTB and sleeping in a recliner. You can anywhere and do anything once you're in the void. I strongly recommend using this method.

A beanbag also seems to work as it molds itself to your position. If using a couch/recliner, it should ideally be at a 120-130 degree angle.

You need a pillow on your neck and back so your field of vision is forwards like waking life and not sideways or downwards like dream life. It's also worth noting Tibetan Buddhist monks (creators of dream yoga which is known as lucid dreaming in the mainstream) also slept sitting upright.

IME, I was snapped out of it because of external stimuli of which I suspect was cars I heard outside my usual reality. This is something I failed take into account because while sleeping while sitting upright with your eyes positioned forward does prevent key parts of the mind like the prefrontal complex from shutting down during physical sleep, you can get woken up by outside noise due to an awake conscious mind. This can be remedied easily with noise cancelling headphones or earplugs or maybe even sleeping pills. Haven't tried this with binaural beats and don't care enough to.

I also didn't experience sleep paralysis before reaching the void. Your experience may vary. Due to you basically forcing your body in a sort of in between, half awake, half sleep state, you may have an intense conscious sleep paralysis episode involving falling sensations, entity communication and etc. There's also a real chance of you falling asleep only to "wake up" by stepping out your recliner only to turn around and literally see your body sleeping. If you freak out, your astral body might get sucked back into your physical body and you'd be woken up.

This method is a free and easy way to induce an altered state of consciousness but by now you should really be aware of what can come with you hovering on the line between a waking state and a sleep state.

[stedes-tarty-pink-robe]

The finale has me thinking about Laszlo and how much kinder he's allowed himself to be as the series goes on. As he said in episode 9, vampires aren't supposed to show care, and besides his open fondness for Nadja and Sean, the Laszlo of the first few seasons fit that mold. He was a creature of self-involvement and pleasure. Then Colin was about to die, and for the first time, Laszlo placed someone else's interests before his own. He befriended and later raised Colin as his own. Sure, he still struggled with opening himself up to Colin and listening to his wishes, but the care was there. And then Baby Colin grew up overnight and forgot their time together. Yet Laszlo couldn't do the same. He couldn't go back to not caring, so when Guillermo was in trouble, of course he helped. I don't think it's a coincidence that he tried to hide his concern for Guillermo under the veneer of scientific curiosity just like he did with Baby Colin. But truth is that he didn't want ANY of his housemates to get hurt, and he liked guiding Guillermo through the vampiric process. He was even gentle with Guillermo in his own Laszlo way, encouraging his powers and even trying to apologize to Guillermo for not being able to fix things. I cannot imagine Season 1 Laszlo apologizing for anything. That's vulnerability. That's opening himself to potential ridicule and pain because Guillermo needed to hear it. All throughout the season, Laszlo's been doing little kindnesses like that. He let Nandor feel important during their night out when he didn't need to. He noticed enough about the Guide to remember the exact date they all complimented her. He helped Guillermo get Derek to the Necromancer when it would have been easier to keep out of it. Laszlo cares, and the longer the show goes on, the harder it is for him to pretend he doesn't. He's more than just a hedonist and questionable man of science. He can be a good friend, too.

[ceratedfish24]

( this is my first time ever sending an ask I don't use Tumblr much please go easy on me ;; )

first of all I have to say, ever since I found your blog I've followed and I LOVE your posts, and it's just nice to read through all the stuff you write with Scott, I've recently gotten into his stuff after religiously watching Lizzie..

but ANYWAYS, this is old but I lowkey like to imagine Esmp1 !Rivendell!Scott to be cold ( haha ) mostly on the outside, a composed, calm and serious facade that he must keep as a ruler because that's what he was born, made, created to do— but still sometimes, in rare occasions his act slips and the true person on the inside comes out, like back in the episode which I forgot the name of, where he investigated the other empires, and found Esmp 1!Shelby/Shubble(?)'s special golem, like I imagine just, ice cold dead eyes lighting up like the 'stars', dark pupils dilating as he flushes, squealing in excitement because Oh Aeor, that is. an. absolutely. adorable. golem.

that and sometimes with his close friends like Esmp 1!Katherine, his childhood best friend who knew the true him before he was molded into an beautiful, but hard cut ice statue.

THIS IS SO LONG I'M SORRY AJSBKS

Hi!! I’m so honored to be your ask :D

I completely agree that esmp1!Scott keeps a total poker face around the public and other rulers. I also imagine that he has a favorite servant, maybe named Owen👀, who gossips with him, and, one day, they said something that almost cracked his facade. Now, they’re one of the few people who Scott lets his guard down around when they’re alone. He keeps that person close during Rivendell events like balls and feasts, especially ones where other rulers are involved. They make judgmental faces at each other and roll their eyes at other rulers when no one’s looking. Scott brings them to a council meeting one day, and the council goes “this servant isn’t permitted to be here” and Scott’s like “none of you get me like they do :/“. Yeah esmp1!Scott is absolutely a softy struggling to hold it together. It doesn’t help that he was supposed to have Xornoth by his side and lost his only support. Also, yes. Scott and Katherine freaking out like best friends meeting at the airport when they get to hang out by themselves and painting each other’s nails and complaining about the frustrations of ruling. They’re literally SO important in each other’s lives. Who else can they vent to like that?

So nice to hear that you’re enjoying my posts!! Don’t worry about the long ask! I get them all of the time, and I absolutely love responding to them!! Also, I literally got into Scott’s videos the exact same way like 8 years ago ejdheibdjen I was an LDShadowLady die hard and found Scott through One Life. He reminds me so much of my godfather, who I adore with all of my heart, so I took one look at him and said to myself “yes. You are the chosen one. I am going to have an unhealthy obsession with you for at least two years”. And I did. And then it faded and I rediscovered him through 3rd Life, which is then how I discovered Hermitcraft! Sorry for the tangent! Thank you for the ask!!🩵🩵🩵

[abyssal-author-and-artist]

Pacifica Northwest is transmasc and you can't change my mind

Okay. That sounds insane. I am aware. It sounds insane to me. But fuck it - I already did the trans Dipper rant essay and so I'll do the same with trans Pacifica.

So Pacifica grows up rich with very oppressive parents. She's clearly a child of abuse who likely has no sense of identity. She's forced to fit a strict mold of The Perfect Daughter. Someone who is perfect and demure and pristine and womanly and who has to wear the right color dress and can't just wear something close enough because otherwise she gets something implied to be very bad.

Put another way: A kid is forced to be exactly perfect and the definition of whatever their gender is. They are not allowed to deviate from that definition in the least otherwise Bad Things happen. They're scared to even be slightly different.

Sound familiar? Because a lot of trans kids go through the same thing. A lot of trans femme people have to play with the Boy Toys because otherwise they're a flower boy and that's bad (which in itself is bad because flower boy is old slang for gay/derogatory as well as gender expression and identity being different but it also hurts trans people). A lot of transmasc people have to play dress up because if they don't there's Something Wrong with them.

I am more than 90% certain that it wasn't intentional, but looking at Pacifica through the lens of someone who tried to do a Boy Thing once and was forced to be hyperfemme for the rest of their life is just so good to me.

Pacifica embodies a lot of toxic girl tropes. You've heard of toxic masculinity, now get ready for toxic femininity - she's petty and superficial and puts too much stock in appearances. Which, granted, is a thing that happens in girl friend groups - I've seen it happen many times - but it reads as different to me. This isn't malice, Pacifica has been shown to be a good person (The Golf War, Northwest Mansion Mystery). She cares for those around her and often only acts the way she does because she has to. Any time she tries to speak up, she gets ruthlessly shut down. She has to be what her parents want, when they want, how they want. If she doesn't, she gets punished.

Yes, Pacifica shows up to every event dressed femme. But who drove her to those events? Who has their claws in every aspect of the town? Who would hear about anything that happens in Gravity Falls? Who buys her clothes? Her parents. And if her parents - who, again, are likely abusive - want her to be and dress like their perfect little girl, their hyperfemme daughter, then she will. She has to be.

From a writing perspective, Pacifica is made to be the opposite of Mabel. One loves fun and color and chaos, is nice no matter what. The other is sitting outside this room and named Pacifica Northwest. But looking at it like that, why wouldn't Pacifica be trans? Especially if Mabel is transfemme - which is a fun reading of her and one that I love to see. It's not canon but think about it. If Mabel is transfemme then Pacifica - her inverse - would be transmasc. The other end of the spectrum.

But now I need real evidence, right? My transmasc Dipper essay was built on much more than "this is behavior seen in a lot of trans people just generally". I pointed out specific scenes in specific episodes - though I forgot Carpet Diem, which is fascinating and which I could so make an essay on by itself. Can I do that for Pacifica?

Well, the short answer is no. The best evidence I have is a general hand-wave at her behavior and environment and "this just reads as transmasc to me". Which, to be completely fair, is how headcanons work. They don't necessarily need any degree of proof. It's nice and it can help people to agree with you, but in the end, it doesn't matter. I can say I headcanon anything, and because it's a headcanon, you can't do shit about it. If I say Pacifica is transmasc beyond a shadow of a doubt, then you can challenge me.

To be fair, I did say that. The title of this is literally "Pacifica is transmasc and you can't change my mind", I will take that I was making claims. But also I immediately followed that up with "it sounds insane to me" so I should hope we all know that I'm going into headcanons-based-on-the-text territory.

And I'm never going to attack someone over a headcanon that makes someone feel seen, and I'd hope that holds true for everyone. I like Pacifica as transmasc and forcing herself into the box of cis female when it's wrong because I did the same. I love transmasc Pacifica. I love the idea of Pacifica and Dipper hanging out and him telling her that he's trans and Pacifica just kinda goes "you can do that? But then why doesn't everyone? Being a girl kinda sucks - there's girl drama and dresses and girl puberty and all that stuff. Everyone would be a guy if they could" and Dipper gives her The Look and says "Pacifica Northwest, that is the most trans thing I have ever heard".

In conclusion, I headcanon trans masculine Pacifica Northwest. Still workshopping a chosen name for him but I do, and I love him. It's all silly fun headcanoning a children's cartoon character as trans and it hurts no one. And it doesn't even affect a lot of the things I'll do. I have one fic that will hint at it and one that will treat it as the main center of the story planned. (It will be a part of my AU but not a major part and I'm also playing with the thought of gender-fluid Pacifica for Divine Falls. It's entirely ignorable and will not affect anything related to the main AU's plot.)

Yes I referred to Pacifica as she/her for most of this essay but it was referring to a pre-realization Pacifica who isn't out yet and thus would convince herself that she was uncomfortable with he/him pronouns and therefore calling them he/him would be wrong until he came out.

[fwitolei]

The Dragon Prince Thoughts 6x01 - Startouched

Previous Episode // Masterlist // Next Episode

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Spoilers below the cut

“We are, all of us, stardust. Held together by love, for an instant.”

OMG THE MERCIFUL ONE IS SO PRETTY

Why do her eyes glow but not aaravos’??

I completely forgot about what happened in s5

“I’m alive?!”

H E ‘ S A L I V E

LMAO THE WAY TERRY JUST PICKED HIM UP

“Blood of child.”

OH MY GOSH CLAUDIA

gurl got her azula arc on

OMG SHE KILLED SPARKLEPUFF

how did she even know about the spell?? 

Did aaravos tell her something off screen

Viren’s ready to lose his shit seeing claudia with her missing leg

I’m surprised he didn’t

Terry just accepting all this is wild

“I must face my truth…in Katolis”

Okay wait i was not expecting that from viren 

I wonder what’s going on in his head. What does he want to do in katolis?? Why would he leave claudia behind when he knows he could be executed? Does he want to atone? Pay the time for his crimes?? So many questions

Claudia’s hysterical screaming is really reminding me of azula

I think it’s hilarious opeli is completely fine taking soren and ezran’s shit but on the edge of a breakdown when serving viren back in the first saga

Like they still stress her out but at least she’s not trying to arrest them for treason—

Barius being real about not telling the other kingdoms the other rulers were willing to follow viren which means they could still be not on the best terms with xadia

“Lots of books. I like books.”

Callum’s clueless narration is the funniest shit lmao

OOH RAYLA’S HAIR IS SO LONG GAHHHH

“Sometimes I wonder where my mom is too.”

LISSA MENTION

BRO WHAT WHY’S HE HOWLING TOO HAHAHAHAHHA

“The inside is my famous brown sludge, melted and molded.”

Brown sludge is chocolate it’s canon

Wait if it’s candy won’t it eventually melt—

“But you’re never going to leave me. Because I’m leaving you first.”

WHAT THE FUCK WHY DID CLAUDIA JUST LEAVE

Like i know she’s losing it but REALLY—

this episode was jam packed with all kinds of buildup, and i thought it was suuuuper fast-paced. I’m excited to see what they’re going to do with the pearl, starscraper, and zubeia, but this time i REALLY think they’re finally going to talk about lissa. Not bad overall.

[epickiya722]

Constant mischaracterization is really super common esp for shonen protags, bc they have this thing where they need to stick to a certain unchanging mold (usually one of power fantasy for male projection) and their first impression needs to fit that mold and anything else is completely forgotten.

And that usually leads to men getting pissy as soon as the story progresses bc these characters will inevitably change too.

Ex: if Yuji's first impression is that he is strong and punches people, that will be the only thing they ever care about him doing, and if he doesn't, then he failed as a protag. Same with Naruto. Same with Ichigo. Same with Saitama. And by that, Izuku's first was that he was an emotional guy that cries, and this will remain the only noteworthy thing about him, and since crying makes you look "weak" and "annoying" then he'll be a weak and annoying protagonist until the end.

And it's complete bullshit.

Those same people who will only recognize a protagonist for one trait will be the same people to go "Can't they do anything different" even though said protagonist has more qualities they can look at as well as going through a change.

"He cries too much, he's annoying." Oh, but when Izuku is boxing the shit of someone, they're all hush about. He's not crying, so where's the praise at? Looking for it, I'm looking... yeah, I don't see that praise. Oh, wait! I forgot that when he was all depressed and dirty and neglecting himself those people were like "he's so badass". Badass and going through a depressive episode, hello??

I actually hate people calling JJK 265 Yuji's yap session because I know "yap session" some people use it like "oh my gosh, get to the action already". Some people were once again hating on that chapter because "Yuji wasn't punching". Like, he wasn't even introducing punching people. He wasn't introduced messing around with an oujia board with Sasaki and Iguchi!

Honestly, let's move away from "I want this character to fit this mold". All these dudebros and powerscalers seriously have this one track mind that unfortunately blinds them from actually getting into a story.

Like, do they really think "protagonist" means "a character that only is meant to punch, kick, fight and get super strong"?

No! It means the leading character. The character whose point of view the audience will follow for the story. And usually they go through change and maybe even display relatable traits so the audience can not only relate to them but to the story as well to get some understanding of what is being told.

It really just seems boring as hell to have a protagonist not display emotions and do other things.

[oleever-does-stuff]

TADC Yapfest Timeee

As a certified yapper, the need to shove my random assortment of ideas down your throat has been tearing me apart. Therefore, I deem it yapfest time. Also, media literacy is apparently at an all-time low and I am nothing but a product of the environment I am molded in and I require you to understand that.

~♡~

Do you guys know that face Caine made when talking about mixing up NPCs and humans? What do you guys think that implied? Was it a red herring or hinting at something else? Because I so happen to have two things going on in my head.

Firstly and most obviously, I believe that some of the cast are NPCs in disguise. This first came to me with the realization that Jax, Pomni, and Ragatha all sound like real names (Jack or just...Jax, Penny, and Agatha) while Gangle and Zooble didn't (unless there are names similar in other countries I'm unaware of). Then I remembered that Kinger exists, and if Kinger is an NPC I won't recover. The idea that Zooble might be an NPC does seem likely to me for a multitude of reasons.

The first reason: Zooble's refusal to go on Caine's adventures. I doubt an NPC would like to go anywhere in a fake world after discovering what you were. Secondly, Zooble (to me) looks vastly different from the rest of the cast. She looks like she doesn't belong with the other circus members. I can't really find the description of what the rest of the cast looks like other than neat, while Zooble is just a jumble of objects and assortments. It looks like she belonged to a different world and ended up there. That might just be cool character design though and I'm an idiot. Overall Zooble just seems out of place but that might just be because it's episode ONE.

My second idea, one thats been lingering in my mind that Caine himself is human and just forgot after being there for so long. While maybe not as coherent or has as much supportive evidence as the previous it's still there. Perhaps Caine worked for the company that created the Circus, was put in there to run the first run-through, but never made it out. If he was the first trapee, maybe he would have been given host commands, and that would explain why he was the control of the circus (like a party leader).

~♡~

Within my no-sleep-filled fever dream of a mind, this led me to another conclusion. If people had been around this long, why was the game so unfinished? Why were people from the outside not helping. Now this is where my incompetency comes in because due to the Caine actually being human thing I had the idea, maybe the Circus project was abandoned, and that's why the game itself is so unfinished with people abstracting, no exit, things glitching in and out of the world so easily. After Caine they were just like "Oh shit, yeah let's not work on this no more", but people still end up finding their way in. (I also had the idea, as my boyfriend keeps trying to put random numbers in this paragraph, perhaps they queued too many testees. Every time someone abstracts, the next person in line joins but has no memory of that wait.) There's that one thing about Pomni working for the company that created TADC, +8and like I'm not well-versed in TADC theory and canon things I watched like maybe 2 episodes, saw a couple funny posts but...

The place looks run down, abandoned. What self-respecting office space would allow papers to litter the floor. Or a dusty, moldy-looking computer.

It looks like the company abandoned the workplace, this project, everything. Maybe Pomni got put in a queue of sorts, waited until there was an open space available to play. (Kaufmo. R.I.P)

~♡~

A different tangent. I saw something that mentioned TADC was inspired by "I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream". Although I'm unaware how true that is, it does lead me to wonder what the end for Pomni will be like. Will she end up saving the others from the digital hell, but be stuck there forever in return? Would she end up as Caine or be stuck with him to live out eternity?

also this is 100% going to be a problem, look at all of them just chilling.

I wrote this tangent at almost midnight, please forgive me I will edit in the morning (Afternoon).

Edited: more well written

[marshallpupfan]

Marshall Merchandise Update!

Got some interesting new additions for my collection to show off today! Eventually, I need to show everything off again... as soon as I get things organized again. I still have items I bought from early last year that I still haven't found a spot for yet. I've been slacking! lol

First off, this lapel pin... being graciously held up by Wolf O'Donnell. There's probably a "can't let you do that" joke in here somewhere, but I can't think of any right off hand. 😅

This was actually sent to me by a friend, who recently paid a visit to Nickelodeon Universe (an indoor theme park). While she was there, she seen this and got it for me, hoping it was something I didn't have. Fortunately, it wasn't! A fine item for my collection, indeed! She'll likely see this post later, so if you're reading this, thank you again!

Actually, I believe she also went a year or two ago and managed to find the Meet & Greet Marshall wandering around. She even got a picture & video with him, too. I was quite envious! 😄

Next, this "magic towel" thing. It's also being held up by another wolf - this time, it's Wolf Link, from "The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess". Can you tell I'm a bit of a Nintendo gamer? lol

Anyhoo, I was just doing some shopping with my mother in a dollar store when I happened to stumble upon this. It was only $1.25, so... why not get it? The artwork isn't the best, but hey, I still like it.

Next, one of those "Good 2 Grow" snack containers! Actually, funny story about this one. I was at a gas station, not expecting to see anything pertaining to PAW Patrol, when I seen one of these that someone left at the front near the cashier. However...

It was actually one of Zuma, which surprised me, since they usually pass him up to focus on the main four. I meant to post about it on Twitter/X, but like usual, I forgot. In any case, I decided to track one down, and I soon found one of Marshall at Walmart. It was the last one, too! Unless I'm mistaken, they also had one of Liberty, so I guess they went beyond just the six original pups this time. Nice!

As you might recall, we've actually seen products like this before, about a year or two ago. Back then, it was just the pups in their regular outfits. This time, they went with a superhero theme, no doubt due to The Mighty Movie. I'm not sure why they went with Super Paws and not the Mighty Movie outfits, but maybe these were easier to mold. Who knows, but hey, I quite like it when older outfits get brought back, instead of them getting forgotten in the sands of time.

I just wish we could see THIS outfit again someday. It had a brief reappearance in that "Mighty Pups Save Adventure Bay" video game, but that's it so far. Sadly, at this point, I doubt we'll ever see it again.

Er... guess I got a little distracted here, sorry!

Last, and absolutely not least, is this brand new item! Something I knew about for many months and couldn't wait to get a hold of one for myself! It's "Storytime with Marshall" by Leap Frog!

(In hindsight, taking these pictures in front of my monitor may not have been the best idea. Hopefully they're not too hard to see. 😅)

This thing is legitimately super awesome! They really got his likeness down so well here! I mean, seriously, just look at it! It's so cute! It's easily one of the best pieces of merch I've got in my collection now!

According to the box, it can do quite a lot. It includes 40+ stories, which I assume are based on various episodes (I haven't listened to them yet, but I also assume they focus on different pups, going by the buttons on the front... yeah, it's a shame there's no Rocky or Zuma again, I know). It has a sleep timer, to help lull the little ones to sleep at night before shutting off and all that. Additionally, it teaches "core learning skills" or something, whatever that means. That's cool and all, but of course, for me, I just wanted it because I absolutely love how it looks. It'll look great on one of my shelves! lol

I'll admit, I'm glad this came out before the new animation style got applied. While I like Marshall's updated season 11 look so far (I might make a separate post about that later), his original design is still my #1 favorite. A part of me hopes to keep collecting more merchandise of THIS Marshall, but I know that, by next year, they'll probably retire this design and start using the new one, permanently. Guess I'll enjoy it while it lasts. 😅

And that's all for now! I currently have another item coming in the mail; Marshall's new Rescue Wheels big wheel vehicle + figurine. It's been delayed, but it's supposed to show up at some point next week. Hopefully, the remaining Rescue Wheels merchandise will show up in stores soon enough, and I'll be able to show them all off soon. I might also have to buy a Boomer figurine, too. lol

[chameleon221b]

*WARNING: LONG RANT ABOUT SHERLOCK

Let’s talk TGG, like… imagine you’re John. You’re an exhausted army doctor who’s been treating probably the flu all day, and you bike home or take a cab. You’re ready to eat and maybe watch some telly and crash into bed.

But no. You get home, and there are fricken gunshots ringing out. Oh my God! Is your flatmate in danger? Is he shooting someone? Yes. He is… but not someone. A wall. He’s shooting a wall which for someone reason had it coming. You’re glad Sherlock doesn’t fight to give you the gun. Maybe it’ll look up from here. Ya lock the British Army Browning L9A1 in the safe, and you realize for the millionth time that your flatmate is mad but you’ve kinda ceased to care.

Then woah! The table is a mess. You’re not cleaning that up. You’ll eat in the armchair. But eat what? That is the question. Sherlock probably didn’t cook or get takeout or shop, or even eat, but you ask him anyway. It’s a kinda rhetorical question.

Without a suspicion you open the fridge and WHAT IN THE GILES?!

You shut it quickly. You might faint. Is it PTSD? A hallucination? Real? You summon courage and yank the door open, and yes, it’s a real head. You shut the door like you’re dreaming. Like what did I just see? You forgot you’re even hungry. Sherlock acts like it’s a perfectly normal thing to do! Then you remember he’s mad and you’re kinda over it. It is what it is. You’re tired.

Then you get a rant from Sherlock who’s acting like a five-year-old because you stated literal facts, how he’s ignorant about stuff he doesn’t care about which he proves in said rant. You wrote about your first case, and the only thing he can’t argue with is the clever title.

That’s it. You’re done for tonight. Fudge it. And Sherlock even has the audacity to ask where you’re going like… You’re not even gonna explain now. The emotional intelligence translator needs a vacation.

And… woah. John didn’t even eat anymore. Imagine being him. I cannot further to can 🤦🏼‍♀️ 😂 Dude just wanted to get home and eat and then sleep. But there were gunshots, chemicals, severed heads, and a mad 5-year-old who’s insulted for an inane reason. Being Sherlock’s flatmate is hard 🤌🏻

Extra details:

That yellow spray paint can on the table from the Blind Banker is there too (and an paper file container tied with a string probably full of old case notes). Imagine in his boredom Sherlock was like, “Let’s paint a smiley face so it can annoy me because I don’t have a case”, which is probably why the wall had it coming 😂 Don’t smile at Sherlock Holmes when he’s bored, even if you’re just a bloody wall!! 🤦🏼‍♀️

Ooh, and before Sherlock mentions the Vermeer painting in the middle of the episode, you can see him reading the pamphlet about The Lost Vermeer while he’s arguing with John. Just thought it was a cool detail.

And set analysis:

And this ⬇️

Like… that table looks sus. There’s a weird yellow liquid. A bread from a bakery, the purple thing. Experiment? Or quick bite to eat while you handling literal chemicals? And then there’s a book… probably with obscure knowledge on the 100,027 different types of mold. And what is leaning against the window?

1. Big ass beaker.

2. Another beaker that contains with an umbrella and/or an old spraying device.

3. A fricken dead plant in a small clay vase in a bigger clay vase. 

4. A big weird red cup.

And

5. I think I found where the rum’s gone because what else could that bottle be other than a vintage bottle of rum with a dusty wax covering?

The set is cozy but also fricken eccentric 🤣 I can’t. It’s like Sherlock hoards random objects and/or souvenirs that only he knows why he keeps.

That’s it. That’s the rant. I’m done. I’ll eat pasta now and think about how John said, “Anything in? I’m starving.” followed by “severed head!” and Sherlock just replied, “Just tea for me thanks.” Like, “No bloody severed head for dinner, just tea.” 😁🥸😐

[iamthecomet]

Bless me, Comet, for I have sinned, it has been -checks imaginary watch- I dunno, a little bit, since my last confession.

Continuing on my ghoul titty nonsense.

When Rain finally gets to see them, his immediate reaction is, "I need to put that in my mouth now, please-"

And Dew's like, "Haha, okay, sure-"

And, like, so, this is when Dew realizes he's fucked up, yeah?

Cause, yeah, he magicked himself some rockin' boobs, but he forgot how sensitive his nipples already are, and because of how the flesh gets molded, they're a bit more prominent... which means they're a lot easier for Rain to latch onto.

So Dew has an out of body experience at the feeling of Rain's mouth on him, because, "Wait, shit, fuck-"

And he does not stop.

Even after he abandons playing with them with his tongue, he keeps his hands squeezing, touching, pressing them together.

He's having a great time!

But Dew?

Dew is gonna pass out.

Maybe he does, or maybe he's just off in the fog mentally.

But yeah.

Bonus thought: Dew lets Swiss play with his boobs while they're sitting on the couch, and Swiss winds up doing just that, playing with them.

They're watching some random tv show and Swiss is just lounging behind him occasionally kneading him, not even in a particularly sexy way, he's just using Dew like a stress ball while they're watching Bake Off or whatever.

Because I think that would be funny.

I've had titty fucking on the brain so all I can think about is Rain pushing them together to get his dick between them. And that's when Dew really thinks he might pass out. Because holy shit that's hot. And holy fuck Rain really likes it, and god he's so sensitive, and-- He definitely goes offline for a while. Awake but not all the way there, reduced to sensation. Whining and drooling and trying to figure out why he didn't give himself tits sooner. And oh yeah. Swiss jiggles them around, kneads them. Isn't super gentle with them. He's sort of absent-minded in his playing. But Dew's sensitive and it's doing something to him. Makes it hard to pay attention to what's happening in Bake-Off. Definitely misses half an episode trying to figure out if he wants Swiss to stop or keep going.

[onetragicalnerd709]

💫Space....the final frontier....these are the voyages of the Starship Enterprise ....Crew Cards!💫

Every space-faring hero needs their own Collectible hero cards! Why not Ponify and Trek them at the same time?!

Made these character cards a while back. Essentially, I wanted to solidify pony designs for each of the Star Trek Next Gen characters and crew... but as my mind moved a mile a minute... I got caught up with other shenanigans and forgot to continue. *whoops*

Fear not Trek nerds! I'm hoping to continue to put a spin out on some more Pony Trek characters soon!

If you are interested in seeing a specific character ponifed..let me know in the comments! I do have some designs already sketched up and hidden from public view cause ...well, I'm lazy. But I'd be happy to show them or try a few new designs!

Top Left: Lieutenant Tasha Yar

Species: Human, Plant of Origin: Turkana IV

Rank: Lieutenant, Position: Chief of Security

Assignment: U.S.S Enterprise NCC 1701-D

My beloved bad**s blonde, how I miss you! I'm still fuming that her time on the show was cut short and all because of a vat of tar. I did appreciate Gene bringing her back "alt timeline wise" in "Yesterday's Enterprise" as well as the final episode of the series "All Good Things"...however I would have enjoyed her character played out further with Data, Worf and the rest of the crew.

Thankfully, in the PC RPG game, Star Trek Online Tasha gets more screen time, and I have thoroughly enjoyed playing the game alongside her characters (alternate, evil, and all)

For her design, I matched her coat color with her vibrant blonde hair and added some giraffe like prints on her neck and legs. It is slightly different from the way I draw Trill markings, but I wanted to showcase that Tasha is not purely earth born. Turkana V is shown as dark, dirty, and desolate..her markings I imagine, are an asset, a way to camouflage amongst the darkened streets, messily but beautifully placed on her scar marked body.

Top Right: Commander William T. Riker " Will Riker" #1 or "Will" *Imazdi*

Species: Human, Planet of Origin: Earth Alaska, U.S.A

Rank: Commander, Capt, Position: Number 1

Assignment: U.S.S Enterprise NCC 1701-D

Couldn't resist drawing the "Jazz HUNK" of Star Trek TNG, a goofball of a man whose character always makes me crack up. Riker may not have been my favorite of the crew, but I always have respected his generosity and loyalty to his crew. Johnathan Frakes is a proud Trek actor who appreciates and strives to celebrate his characters legacy, even if the main memories celebrated involve the famous "Riker Chair Maneuveur.

Even though I'm not a big fan of facial hair.. I was definitely desperately "willing" him to put the beard back when I saw the character clean shaven in Star Trek "Insurrection" He's too good for the baby man look. It was unnerving 😅

Of course, this handsome stallion version of Will had to flaunt the musky red coat and his ever charming smile. I was eager to give his characters beard justice. It is scruffy thick but well kept. The eyebrows are bushy and ready to romance any and all "mares" * alien* or not.

Bottom: Counselor Deanna Troi "Deanna" "Counselor" *Imazdi*

Species: Betazoid/Human, Planet of Origin: Betazed

Rank: Commander. Position: Ships Counselor

Assignment: U.S.S Enterprise 1701-D

I sometimes feel that my empathy would rival that of the true empaths- "Betazoids" like the gorgeous Deanna Troi. However, hearing everybody's thoughts and feelings would get quite tiring and cumbersome.

Stunningly beautiful and sharp witted, Deanna Troi stepped out of her original season 1 "sex icon/romance trope" mold as the series moved on and became the strong resilient women we see emanated by the new age Trek screen ladies today. Deanna was not afraid to speak her mind and show who's boss. However, she still led her life with rock solid empathy and humor.

She's definitely the caring but fun aunt figure that I would have attached to if I was among the crew. Her love of chocolate cake may have rivaled my own sweet tooth.

For her design, Blue hues were, of course, a no-brainer. Her most popular costume was the blue dress, so I had to have her rock that frock again. In regards to her mixed heritage, I decided to give her a marbled textured coat and a mix of unicorn and earth pony characteristics. Thick furred/legged but still emanating silky undertones in her fetlocks and elegant frame. Everything flows smoothly, even the curls of her brilliant mane.

Two of my design choices are both references to her betazoid heritage. Anatomical characteristics I imagine to be common amongst the species.

Her double ornate horns are in reference to her empathetic skills. One horn (shorter) is used primarily for basic magic. The other (other) is used for emphathic probing and emotional mind reading. Horn length within the Betazoid Culture signifies skill level and familial hierarchy within the community. Her longer probing horn signifies her privileged status in Betazed, due to her illustrious mother - Lwaxana Troi, Daughter of the Fifth House, Holder of the Sacred Chalice of Riix, Heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed".

Second - her long beard. Beards have no gender in Betazed. They are a symbol of beauty and grace. A style to be well kept and maintained throughout a Betazoid's lifetime. Decorative jewelry can be used for cultural practices and celebrations and / or worn for meer pleasure.

*I've seen personal AU designs of many female MLP unicorns with beards and have always appreciated the design choice*

So as you can see...I enjoy this very much. More will be coming soon.

Go ahead, explore your own ponymashed designs. It's so fun!

Till next time 🖖