#i have PLANS that i cannot share with you right now because the haters will sabotage me /ref

[pinkushu]

My sketches for Charlie’s birthday are so cute!!

[roadkill-creatures]

AfterDeath nonsense for the beach party au that you don’t know about yet cause I haven’t finished writing it yet 🔫

[shutupdevvie]

i simply cannot share the thoughts happening in my brain rn

[mmpookie]

going insane over here dont mind me

[motorganism]

Flails my arms around

[br3adtoasty]

Curse or Blessing?

[rielohel]

My excellent and creative mind vs it’s tendency to give up or forget

[vampcubus]

[mercless]

@windchaser: the   heart   (   or   is   it   a   bell   ?   )   in   his   chest   hammers   in   his   ears   ,   setting   his   teeth   on   edge   ,   each   pearl   tremorous   and   sending   vibrations   outwards   ,   shaking   just   beneath   the   first   layer   of   his   skin   until   that   too   grows   quiet   and   still   ,   not   in   peace   or   any   true   absence   of   sound   or   movement   ,   but   in   the   way   that   one   goes   deaf   over   time   ,   or   the   way   an   inexperienced   rider's   legs   grow   numb   .   each   breath   is   effortful   ,   shallow   when   he   tries   for   deep   ,   more   inhales   than   exhales   ,   and   it's   silly   ,   all   of   this   comparison   :   after   all   ,   there   isn't   and   hasn't   been   any   life   in   his   chest   for   a   long   time   ,   no   need   to   draw   breath   and   risk   someone   hearing   ,   and   despite   how   real   the   threat   feels   ,   the   walls   seeming   to   enclose   around   both   of   them   like   a   tomb   ,   his   tomb   ,   any   actual   danger   lies   just   beyond   their   only   exit   .   it   is   all   in   his   head   . he   knows   this   .   he   knows   this   ,   and   yet   — the   edges   of   his   vision   begins   to   dim   like   the   mouth   of   a   tunnel   ,   and   with   the   slightest   buckle   of   his   legs   ,   he   slumps   forward   ,   head   pressing   into   the   wall   just   over   talon's   shoulder   for   support   as   he   squeezes   his   eyes   shut   .   this   ,   however   ,   is   as   effective   as   trading   one   closed   space   for   only   a   slightly   less   closed   place   ,   but   his   hand   ,   trembling   against   the   wall   ,   contracts   ,   and   it   is   almost   grip-like   ,   almost   reaching   ,   and   is   stopped   only   by   the   stone   that   claws   embed   themselves   in   .   he   will   take   whatever   he   can   ,   he   thinks   ,   or   at   least   it   must   be   him   thinking   ,   for   who   else   would it   be   thinking   this   thought   ,   this   thought   that   rises   to   the   top   of   his   mind   like   the   air   bubbles   of   one   drowning   .   there's   a   something   of   a   sigh   ,   more   like   a   quick   puff   of   air   ,   and   he   deflates   ;   his   neck   gives   in   to   the   heavy   ,   weak   lean   of   his   head   ,   slipping   from   the   wall   and   lolling   upon   talon's   shoulder   .   it   is   unclear   whether   or   not   he   fully   or   at   all   registers   this   contact   ,   a   touch   that   would   appear   intimate   if   drawn   from   any   other   context   .   the   way   his   claws   dig   further   into   the   wall   could   mean   anything   .

Eyes alight with adrenaline dart about the confined crawlspace the unlikely duo had taken cover in. With the threats lurking just outside of the makeshift cover, not even the shadows seem trustworthy in their cool embrace. A worn boot gets shuffled further away from the band of light that acted as the border between false safety and hellish peril. The slow, even breaths moving their frame did not match the wild rhythm trapped behind their ribs. It was eventual that their paths would cross with the worst creatures the bowels of Hell could regurgitate into this humble, dusty world. The gunslinger at least was smart enough to know when his match was met, seeing as he went for cover rather than try his luck with the mess of brimstone and bone that was making its way through whatever was left of this unfortunate settlement. And if the situation weren't so dire, Talon could have conjured some words to compare this fact to how not even that sense of his had helped the dead man from not being stuck with this state. Or how he should put the same train of thought toward this doomed quest to stop the Harbingers…

It wasn't the heavenly glow of their blasted feathers desperately trying to be hidden from sight, nor the stink of their brimstone, that worried Talon on the effectiveness of their hiding from the monstrosity that needn't fret over one haunted man and a poor excuse of a demon. When they're certain that there was nothing else creeping just beyond their vision, Talon's hat lifts so that their eyes of embers could next see what their soulful associate made of their situation, only for brows plastered with blonde strands and drenched in salt and grime to crease at his struggle. But they know what it is; so close stuck between those cobbled walls they can feel the trembling and hear the hitched breathing searching for receding air. They know, because there was only one other time they've ever seen him in such a state. When the wooden beams had collapsed and there was more smoke than sense in the air.

The realisation feels like a veil lifted from their eyes, but it's of no help when Yone lurches forward. Toward them. Locked into place with lungs constricting and veins tensing, Talon waits for the blow that has been threatened all too many times before. The one given to the demons he's hunted down again and again, only waiting for the hellspawn's guard to drop even slightly to be his opening. Trapped between his face and that reaching hand, they brace for the worst. Only for the sound of scraping gravel, and a pitiful exhale, to wring them back into the present instead of their fearful, fictional scenarios. Strands of white settle over their shoulder and they dare not move - cannot move - as the gunslingers head finds their shoulder to lean on instead; Their protruding feathers, ruffled from the situation, act as a far softer pillow than their clammy skin or rigid brimstone. Eyes as wide and glistening as coins do not blink as he remains in this resting place. Every follicle of hair and keratin stood on end. Their own hands finding purchase in the wall to their back to help with the added weight upon them. Even as clear as it is, that he is in no state to scheme, there is still hesitance stemming from the demon's unease.

Focus ticks from features hidden away in cascading locks to the extended hand enclosing them, and finally to over the gunslinger's shoulders into that blinding light beyond their hiding spot. The grumblings of an old nature is cold to his woes of being stuck in such an enclosed space, urging Talon to save themself before he brings them down with his folly. And the thing with a pulse cannot help but wonder why he sought comfort in their presence. If it was even a passing thought... Thankfully, time is of the essence, and as the rumbling danger quietens, Talon knows that the small, fleeting window of opportunity is an unforgiving one. Their neck, which had craned away from the other's head, now leans their own toward his ear until the rim of hats meet. Words as quiet as a blade through the air slither from their tongue, hot breath disturbing the fine hairs shielding the other from sight,

"Stay with me, gunslinger." Gingerly, their own claws find his shoulder and take a hold of his coat. Not to move him - in fact they aren't too sure why at all. This wasn't the time to help gather strength to push through his fear, nor resolve what clutched at his heart. But then, when would it ever be? Certainly never if they didn't leave this cranny. Talon holds then, expecting the very walls enclosing them to be torn through at any moment. But when their fears are once again left wanting, they return their focus to Yone with another attempt to rouse him. The bed of feathers beneath him being pushed upward, encouraging that he rises.

"You need to be here in the waking moment. This interstice ain't our grave." Their worn, silvered tongue promises no plan against the doom lingering just out of sight. But despite every dispute and argument against their chances, they were going to need to face it together to have any hope in hell.

[the-choir-inbox]

Op, will nischa ever be canon here

[you will just have to see]

[franollie]

i am telling you i am C O O K I N G, okay…like future batman!cass au is coming together in my mind rn

[wintrwinchestr]

what if i told you that strangers part 3 is over 6k words so far and i’m not even close to done. like we’re literally just getting started. i’ve just been yapping.

[pommigranite]

when the crackship becomes otp so now you gotta curate your own content and the haters (little brother) keeps squashing your dreams by reminding you that said crackship is impossible in canon

[oldbutchdaniel]

insane ask but does anyone have or know of a resource with just like. photos of lestat. like i guess the kind of thing you’d use for an icon or something. possibly this is just a screen cap site but it would be really awesome if it was just like. lestat archive. is that real

[goldendiie]

Giggling. Y’all don’t even know yet.

[tteokdoroki]

꒰ note. hello hi just a quick poll to help me out with a wip !! choose wisely :3