#why is vincent built like that

[stygiovictoria]

cloud and vin

[picspammer]

Training Season by Dua Lipa Directed by Vincent Haycock

[milykins]

Hacked

I felt like I needed to redeem myself with Donnie since I’ve had a couple comments where people expressed feeling sad that I had a girl scream and run away from him in a previous headcanon. I thought maybe I should give him something sweet and fluffy. Added some fun quotes as well.

Special thanks to @iridescentflamingo @the-cauldron-witch @avery73 and @sophiacloud28 for all of your help with this story, editing it and helping me with ideas! I hope you enjoy reading it!

Aged up TMNT x Reader

TW: None: Donnie's system keeps getting hacked into and he gets increasingly more frustrated.

“No I’m not playing hard to get! I’m telling you, Sir, it’s not that kind of phone line!”

“It’s always the time for accuracy, Leo.”

“When you put it like that it sounds ridiculous.”

“Let me be the bad-ass for once.”

On the outside, Donatello was the brain, the tech-wizard, the tinkerer. A master of all things technological and a true intellectual able to solve a Rubik’s cube in less than 20 seconds. If it was broken, Donnie could fix it, if it was a seemingly impossible situation, Donnie could figure it out. His three brothers relied heavily on him because he was the smartest, even Leo because there were some questions even he couldn’t answer. This is how it had always been, and he didn’t mind for the most part. He did feel like he was a valuable asset to the team if not a bit overused.

On the inside however, he was the shy one, the introvert, the one who secretly feared being alone forever while slowly descending into madness from his own self-induced seclusion.

Despite Chief Vincent telling them they’d be accepted by society, the collective agreement to stay hidden remained. It had served them well, why mess with it? As they aged into adulthood, it became glaringly obvious. Loneliness, the fear of being forgotten after their father passed on. The crushing reality that he may very well die alone.

He wasn’t like his brothers. Mikey had gotten himself on the scene pretty easily and had made friends and had girlfriends. Raph too, had managed to snag someone, even no-nonsense Leo had. That just left him and he couldn’t help but think. What was the point of having all of this intelligence, creating all of these wonderful inventions, all of the things he’d built… if there was no one but his brothers to share it with?

Donnie acted like it didn’t bother him but secretly he felt it: a sort of crushing loneliness that seemed to stretch on and on. Sadly, he’d sort of given up on meeting someone. It just wasn’t in the cards for him… or was it?

It had started off innocently enough, one day he’d come to work on his computer and noticed something was… off. His desktop looked normal but none of the icons worked when he clicked on them. It didn’t take him long to realize it was a false desktop placed on top of the real one. Odd, he thought. Who had managed to even do this? He’d had the best firewalls and encryptions and security that not even the FBI could crack. Yet, he’d been hacked, someone had hacked him.

He blew out a breath of disbelief, ran a diagnostic and fixed the issue in no time. He did a careful sweep and found nothing else out of the ordinary. He chalked it up to a fluke and went on with his day thinking that was the end of it.

Then it happened again. Upon sitting down in his computer chair he noticed his taskbar was horizontal.

“What the hell..?” He fixed it and upped his security and left it at that.

A week after that all of his icons were replaced with Hello Kitty characters. He was beginning to feel annoyed. Who was doing this, and why? It seemed like they just wanted to mess with him. Frustratingly he couldn’t figure out how they kept getting in. Every time, he strengthened his security it didn’t seem to matter!

He reached his breaking point the following week when he was re-routed to a popular Pokemon meme every time he clicked on something. He was going to find this person and ask them to stop. They weren’t that hard to trace and soon he was purposefully typing a message.

Please stop, you’ve had your fun but it’s getting old

No :)

Seriously, you don’t know who you’re messing with.

Someone who can’t even stop a low-level hacker, clearly.

Who are you?

No one :)

Why are you doing this?

I’m bored, it’s fun

Bored?! How did you even find me? These servers are highly encrypted!

LOL not enough… I was just bouncing around and found them.

Are you with the Foot?

What?! No? I told you, I was bored and saw your shit, and took it as a challenge.

A challenge indeed. Stop this now, this is your final warning.

He broke off their connection then because that had better be it.

Of course, it wasn’t. One boring Saturday night, he was zoned out, totally engrossed in one of his projects. His computer screen flickers a moment. He almost doesn’t see it thinking it’s a trick of the light but it does it again. Curiously, he moved to his computer screen. When he realized what was happening, he actually laughed.

“Seriously? Again?! They have no idea who they’re messing with…”

It was clear that this was same someone who had been hacking him for weeks was trying to get into his system again.

“I’ve got you this time…” His fingers fly over his larger-than-normal keyboard as he managed to secure a one-way live video feed.

“Someone forgot to cover their webcam…” He sang, “Hello, you’ve been hacked by Donatello, I thought I already told you to cease and desist.”

You are absolutely mortified. You’d been doing this for fun, and had no ulterior motives. Truthfully you had been bored and loved a challenge. Yes, you were warned but you didn’t think he would hack your webcam! Immediately, you attempted to hide, hoping he didn’t catch a glimpse of your face.

On his end, Donnie first heard a soft, distinctly feminine gasp and a string of curses. There’s a flurry of movement as you tried to move out of the range of the camera and swiftly stick a piece of tape over it. More shuffling followed, along with the sound of you returning to your computer chair.

He can’t help but feel amused. “There’s no point in hiding, I saw you. How did you think this was going to go?” He waited patiently for you to answer.

You swore softly. The cat’s out of the bag. Swallowing your embarrassment you gingerly peeled the tape off. It didn’t take you long to notice that the video feed only went one way. That was unfair and you intended to change that.

“Sorry…” you murmered. Shit, shit, shit! I’m gonna get you for that!

He took a moment to get a good look at you. Even with the soft lighting of what he assumed to be your bedroom, he could still make out your pink cheeks, flushed flushed with embarrassment and the bridge of freckles across your nose. It was… cute.

“Sorry?” He echoed. “That’s it? You still didn’t answer my question.”

“Do I have to?” You’re trying to keep him talking while your fingers worked their magic. If he could do it… so could you.

“No, but I’d appreciate it if you’d leave me alone. You’ve had your fun, go bother someone else, please.” He replies.

“But I like bothering you.” Almost there… just a few more seconds…

Donnie has to scoff at that. “You don’t even know me.”

“Not yet… there you are!” You cheered as you manage to tap into his own webcam.

In a split-second Donnie had instantly ascertained that she’d been distracting him. To his horror, the little red light of his webcam had blinked to life. Two seconds too long which meant he’d been seen…

“FUCK!” Immediately he cut the power, sending it straight through to your house. He was panicking, he’d been compromised, he was going to have to wipe her computer, all of her hard drives. His heart was pounding and his breathing had quickened as he tried to tamp down the panic he felt. No, maybe he’ll just find her… ask her to keep his secret…? All options were equally bad. What do I do…?!

Luckily, it didn’t take long for that powerful brain of his to think of a solution, albeit a temporary one. His fingers flew over the keyboard once again, restoring power on her side before getting to work.

You were utterly confused. Two seconds ago, maybe five…? Once the webcam was active, you saw what appeared to be the green, blurred image of his face. Was he wearing a mask? You heard the panic in his voice and the ensuing curse word right before your entire room was plunged into darkness. What. The. Hell. Just. Happened?

Just as quickly, it all came back and your computer was rebooting. Okay… you attempted to type once it was all back up and running but something was wrong. Nothing was clickable, nothing worked save for the cursor on your screen. Furrowing your brow, you kept trying, but to no avail. Then, something finally.

A message popped up on your screen and you wasted no time in reading it.

Apologies, I had no choice but to freeze your system. I promise I will explain everything but I need to do it in person. Meet me here:

There was an address to a building between two cross streets and he was asking you to climb the fire escape to the roof.

At first, you scoffed in disbelief. Hell no, you weren’t going to meet some stranger on a rooftop at some weird location. Did he think you were stupid?

Then, as if your mind is being read, another message popped up under the first.

I understand if this is something you might be uncomfortable doing but my identity and the safety of my family is at stake so I must give you an ultimatum. Meet me or your computer will remain frozen.

You swore softly to yourself. This wasn’t something you could fix on your own and you knew it.

You murmured a sarcastic reply. “Well, damn, I guess I’ll just go die then,”

He was giving you no choice and you needed your computer, not only for work, but it had everything. You considered it one of your most precious items. After a minute you’d made up your mind but you still packed your taser and pepper spray just in case.

Donnie was an absolute bundle of nerves. He’d already arrived at the location and was pacing back and forth while sticking to the shadows. He was berating himself about how stupid this plan was. She wasn’t going to show up, but he’d giving her no choice. He did feel a twinge of guilt but years upon years of lectures from Leo had made him be extra cautious. He couldn’t risk his family’s safety because he was careless.

You were nervous too as you carefully climbed the steps of the fire escape. Luckily, the building was only four floors but you still would’ve liked to take an elevator. Reaching the top, you took a moment to catch your breath.

“I do… computers… not stairs… you better be here.” Upon first glance you don’t see anyone and your annoyance grows. “Hello? Please don’t tell me I came all this way for nothing, I just want my computer back.”

Again, there was no reply.

Talking to yourself you groan. “Fuck… you are such an idiot…”

Donnie was only slightly panicking. To his amazement and relief, you showed up. In his anxious state he did manage to notice you looked kind of pretty despite the frown gracing your features. He felt frozen the moment he saw you but snapped out of it pretty quickly when he saw you about to leave.

“Wait!”

You turned. It was actually him. You recognized his voice prompting you walk closer to the source.

“Hello? If you’re here please show yourself. This is sus enough as it is and I’m already over it.” You couldn’t mask the exasperation in your tone. This was already beyond ridiculous.

Donnie had to admit he found her frustrated tone kind of endearing. In a fleeting thought he’d felt she was someone who could match wits with him.

 “Okay, okay, hold on, I’m coming out. Just… do me a favour and don’t scream, please.”

Arching an eyebrow you repeated. “Don’t scream? What kind of question is… oh.” You saw one extremely long leg and then another followed by a lengthy torso and a very green… okay, that’s definitely not human face. “Oh… so it wasn’t a mask…” It wasn’t as though he was unpleasant to look at though, just different.

He was trying his best to control his breathing, bracing himself for some kind of negative reaction. When none came, he took a breath and spoke, trying to keep his tone as even and neutral as possible.

“You see, when you hacked my webcam, you had unwittingly put me and and the safety of my family at risk… this is why I had to s-see you and why I froze your computer.” He was cursing himself inwardly for stuttering.

You were still trying to find your voice. You had SO many questions and actually still a bit annoyed. “First off… how…? You’re a turtle… I doubt anyone would even believe me… and… second… I didn’t even really see you! It was a complete blur and then you cut my power!” You exhaled as you took another breath. “NOW, I’m seeing you.”

Donnie couldn’t help but flinch a little. “I had to make sure, I had no idea how much of me you did see.” A soft sigh followed before he continued., pinching his skin just below where the bridge of his glasses was resting. “And if you had listened when I told you to stop, we wouldn’t be in this situation, now would we?”

He’s got you there and unconsciously you bite your lower lip. The stubborn part of you, however, wasn’t ready to admit defeat yet. “Well, how was I supposed to know that you were a… seven foot…”

“I’m six feet, eight inches.” He interrupted with his matter-of-fact correction.

Another exasperated exhale from you. “Sorry, six foot, eight inch… turtle man!” emphasizing your point, you gestured wildly at the full length of him with your arms. “Who’s apparently so good at hacking that my entire network is completely frozen and I had to drag my ass across town to beg you to unfreeze it!”

He was a little amused by this, he had to admit as his mouth quirked a smile. “Like, I said, I had to be sure, and might I remind you once again… you were the one messing with me.”

“Yeah! Because you were fun to mess with! It was giving me a chance to practice, and it was just innocent fun, it’s not like I could do what you did! And… AND you wanna talk about an invasion of privacy? You hacked my webcam first!”

Donnie blinked, she was really getting all worked up now, and he was trying not to stoop to her level. He was failing. “I only did it because I didn’t think you’d stop! I gave you fair warning.”

“I would’ve stopped!” He doesn’t believe you at all and you hate that because he’s right, messing with him had been too much fun.

“Really?” he deadpanned.

“Yes,” you stubbornly replied.

There’s no stopping his eyeroll at that. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

She crossed her arms with another soft huff. “Fine, don’t believe me.” A shrug followed. “So, now what?”

The tall turtle paused. Usually, he had all the answers but now that he’d frozen her computer and dragged her all the way out here, he felt at a loss of what to say. “I… I just wanted to make sure you’d keep my secret and not tell anyone.”

“Okay… I won’t.” A simple answer, and a truthful one. You watched as he looked at you a long moment. No doubt wondering if he could trust you or not.

Donnie was actually subtly checking for very slight facial cues to determine whether you were lying to him or not. He could tell that your heart rate appeared to be steady. Your gaze never wavered from his, no dilation of her pupils and no mouth tics either. He believed you.

“Okay.” He finally said. “Thank you. I’ll unfreeze everything once I get home.” He turned to leave. “Please get home safely.”

Wait… that was it? Just like that, he was leaving!? “Wait!” You rushed forward to grab his arm. “Wait… that’s it?”

He looked… confused? He had immediately zeroed in on your hand clutching his bicep and then back to your face. “Yes…? You agreed to not tell anyone so… you probably should… let me go? The less you see of me, the better? I thought you were… angry anyway.”

Reluctantly, you released his arm, speaking softly. “I’m not… that mad, I never was really, I just… didn’t want this to be… it. I feel like I could learn a lot from you.”

You watched as her hesitated, seemingly working through his own inner conflicts at this presented opportunity.

“You could…” He turned back around, facing you once again. “Although, you’re already pretty good, I was actually impressed that you’d made it as far as you did.”

You couldn’t help but puff up a little with pride. “Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself. Maybe I could teach you a thing or two.”

He actually laughed. Like a soft little chuckle with a wheeze, his lips blossoming into a smile. “Perhaps you could.”

You smiled back, that laugh of his was adorable. “I’ll let you go but, Donnie… don’t be a stranger, okay?” You already had known his name from getting into his system so many times.

He spoke your name too, softly. “Okay, I won’t.” He looked a little shy then. “Please, allow me to escort you home. It’s late.”

“How very chivalric of you.” Smiling at him with a nod. “I accept.”

Donnie looked pleased with this turn of events and then a little nervous. “I could… carry you, if you want, it’s faster going by rooftops.”

That was an unexpected offer. and now you hesitated before answering. “Oohkay… what are you, some kinda parkour master?”

He snorted softly with a little smirk. “Something like that, ready?”

When you nod, you’re scooped up into his arms at speed that makes you exhale quickly. Being in his arms and feeling the power they held was… nice.

“Hold on tight.” Is all he says and then he starts running.

Automatically you wrapped your arms around his neck watching as the edge of the building came closer and closer… and then, you were flying. Air shooting past your face at a speed that made your eyes water. Your stomach dropped and you clung tighter as you sailed through the air, landing with a thump on the other building.

“You, okay?” He wasn’t even out of breath, like this was easy for him.

“Yes…! Do you know where you’re going?” You ask a little breathlessly.

“Yep. Hold on, I’ll be there in ten.” He took off again, leaping across to the next and the next.

You had to admit it was probably the most exhilarating thing you’d ever experienced and you were actually a bit regretful when he stopped on the roof of your apartment building. Carefully, he brought you to your feet and pushed those large glasses of his up a bit.

“Here we are.” He was more relaxed now, you noticed and felt glad for it.

“Thanks, I appreciate you bringing me back.”

He offered a shy smile then. “You’re welcome. I dragged you out there, the least I could do is make sure you get home safely.”

“That is very much appreciated.” Feeling a bit shy yourself, you paused before heading in. “I’ll see you around.”

“For sure.” Donnie had found he didn’t want to leave yet either, he wanted to make sure you entered the apartment safely.

Heading in, you waved to him before closing the door behind you and took a deep breath. Wow… that really happened. That was incredible! You could barely contain your excitement as you went back to your apartment.

Once Donnie arrived home, true to his word he freed up her system and felt proud of himself for handling things the way that he did. He blew out a breath, leaning back in his chair a moment while lacing his fingers behind his head.

*bing*

He glanced at his screen to see his computer icons dancing and an unseen song playing in the background.

Ninja, ninja, rap, ninja, ninja, rap, go go go go. Go ninja go ninja go! Go ninja go ninja go! Go go go go!

Donnie snorted softly to himself and quickly typed a response.

Back in your apartment, your computer screen suddenly became flooded with memes. Mostly turtle ones of course and try as you might there was no containing your giggles and snorts as you watched them take over your screen. You liked him; there was something very endearing about his quiet shyness mixed with his sharp wit.

Typing back, you take over his screen once again. You took a breath and pressed enter. This was a big chance you were taking but you couldn’t help but feel a connection with the tall, lanky turtle man.

Go on a date with me

Check box yes or no

No rush

Donnie froze, his fingers twitching slightly as they hovered above his keyboard. She wants to go out on a date? With him? He had a mild panic attack for a moment and read and re-read the message at least ten times.

His cursor hovered over the ‘yes’ box. Come on Donnie, throw caution into the wind for once. When are you going to get another chance like this?

Making his decision finally, he clicked his mouse button.

Yes

You couldn’t hold your excitement as you blew out a breath of relief.

He said yes.

The End

@danceingfae @thelaundrybitch @iridescentflamingo @redsrooftopprincess @ninnosaurus

@the-cauldron-witch @thepinkpanther83 @avery73 @adebauchedsloth @sophiacloud28

@definitely-canon @scholastic-dragon @truffle-reblogs @fyreball66 @yorshie

[charleslee-valentine]

I wanna talk about this scene.

A head kiss is *so* significant as a choice. Obviously he can’t kiss her lips unless he wants to have his face superglued to hers, but to waste time getting upstairs to have kissed her at all is sorta what I get caught on. There’s got to be *something* going through his head to make that decision over damage control.

We know the abuse of these women, tying them up in a medical chair, is because of what he went through in his childhood. The duct tape bindings in his high chair, the experimental surgical procedures from his father, the neglect; it’s all mirrored in the leather straps, the chair itself and the identical one up at the house. But we also know Bo, despite probably killing at least Victor, has undying devotion to his mother and her legacy. Trudy slaps her child no older than three across his face without hesitation. What affection might look like or have once looked like in the Sinclair house is curious.

The forehead kiss, in the context of the abuse, can read of both possessiveness and distance. Something like staking a claim, less intimate and affectionate than, say, one on the cheek. A heavily controlled sort of relationship. But back to actual affection.

With the Sinclairs, it’s very skewed what that might be like. When Vincent and Bo interact on screen for the first time, Bo is critically injured and angry. He snaps at his brother, but his remorse is immediate and he uses words as a form of affection. Promises as apologies. Almost like begging, a kind of worship on its own.

Which itself ties into his relationship with their mother too.

Trudy is kept down at the church, having her perpetual funeral service. Bo is seen on screen for the very first time kneeling at her coffin in a probable prayer. But that kind of devotion I think is the Sinclair way of affection. As in religion, which has a recurring symbolism in House of Wax, and as such in the characters lives. Prayer drawing parallels to love isn’t surprising.

Something interesting is that in numerous religions, head kisses can be the passing on of a blessing. Bo forces Carly into the same bindings he suffered in for years, but he grants her a blessing before he leaves her there. It doesn’t seem affectionate at first, if anything it’s just kind of condescending, but knowing how Bo works is what makes it much more interesting.

The question is why?

Bo consoles Vincent after he hurts his feelings by talking about their mother’s blessing and legacy. All of Ambrose is a gift from a woman who treated them horribly, and they accept it. The killings are literally for her. In that way, I think Bo is apologizing. He’s inflicting on this woman something that destroyed his life, and he isn't some zombified, all magical slasher; he’s still very much a human being who feels pain and emotions. A lot more emotions than either of his brothers seem to show on screen, actually.

His role as the leader -or the preacher of this church they’ve built, hence why he finds Carly hiding under the robes in the church- isn’t without remorse. It’s do what’s got to be done. Which started with his parents. Victor says in the cold open, “I’m doing the best I can,” while wrestling a toddler. They call little Bo the monster while they’re actively hurting him. These excuses are pre-programmed into his complex.

In regard to further biblical imagery and the Sinclair parents, is the theater. Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? plays nonstop, with the specific scene with Carly being hunted in the theater taking place during Jane’s song. The first two lines of that say, “I’ve written a letter to daddy, His address is Heaven above.” There’s this idea of communicating with a dead parent again, just like Bo speaking out loud to Trudy’s corpse, but now it’s outwardly tying it in with religious beliefs. If Bo is the preacher, he’s simply passing along the holy message instilled in him by his parents above. Bo *is* Baby Jane in that way, but not for the most obvious reason. While yes, he is harsh to his brother, as Baby Jane treated her sister Blanche badly, there’s also the fact that he’s a washed up, desperate, abused child who craves love and validation and normalcy again. Using his communication with the divine up in Heaven above to spread a blessing is a way of getting approval. With a detached kiss to Carly, his crimes are the gospel.

A consistent theme here is not only his relationship with being abused, but also with Vincent. Biblically, conjoined twins are considered a mistake of nature. God creates two human souls, but it is the fault of nature that their bodies combine. However, because of the risks, it is also considered mostly immoral in the church to separate them if one or both will have their lives risked. For the Sinclair twins, their father did this surgery himself, at home, which is obviously wildly illegal and dangerous. That makes him a sinner and an obstacle to a perfect Ambrose, on top of being an abusive asshole. So he’s killed, implied to be shot by Bo directly. That bullet was his punishment as much as the highchair was Bo’s punishment. Vincent may not have gotten the highchair, but he does have the marks on his face to show for what Victor chose. The surgery, the sin of going against the new plan, left Vincent scarred and missing not just tissue but parts of the bones in his face. Having to wear the masks and being disallowed from leaving Ambrose is his punishment for Victor’s moral crime. God took from them both unfairly and I think, despite his devotion, Bo doesn’t quite believe in the faith fully because of that.

Again, he’s human. He has his doubts and fears. His reassurance to Vincent in the form of “Ma would be proud” goes for himself too. And his subsequent “She always said that your talent would make up for what God took away from you.” Vincent doesn’t need convincing though, he needs an apology. That’s what Bo’s speech about Trudy is, is an apology, but that doubles for both him and Vincent. And the head kiss too. Because again, he’s operating on what he’s supposed to do. It’s a routine.

At that point, I think Bo doesn’t get satisfaction from fulfilling God’s (ahem, Trudy’s) plan anymore. Carly, and by extension every other girl who was down in that cellar at one point or another, is a sacrifice to it. She’s duct taped in that chair because someone has to be suffering in order for the Sinclairs to thrive. That’s the way it’s been before. Someone has to be hurting to need God’s grace so badly as to keep up what they’re doing, rather than just forgetting Ambrose. But what makes me think Bo specifically has stopped deriving anything positive from that order, is that he also tells Vincent “We almost finished what Mama started.” Based on the number of empty seats in the theater alone, they could theoretically kill a lot more than just the six kids that night. Why stop there? Because of the sacrificial lamb down in his cellar. I think Bo thinks that his actions will trigger be some fateful event that’ll free them all of Ambrose. Some great flood or some such. And when it doesn’t come for an entire decade after Trudy’s death, I think his desperation is growing more and more over those ten years to where his faith is now slipping. Back around to the head kiss, the silent promises he makes to Carly is to reassure himself that she’ll be special and it’ll end with her.

Choosing Carly specifically, could come from a biblical Madonna-Whore complex. Bo saw the whole group the night before, only two of which were girls obviously. Between them, Paige is pregnant. The Bible states directly that she should be burned for that (as she is out of wedlock.) Ambrose is, to him, a Holy place, but bringing Paige in and keeping her alive, no matter for how short a time, would technically be making the entire land impure. So Carly it was. I do think he has an attraction to her, since whoever has the video camera that night takes special care to record her lips, and then he makes a comment about them after supergluing them. It’s just the fact he could’ve kissed her at any point before the glue came out, and chose not to. Just that little head kiss. Because as much as he’s preached, he has to resist temptation himself or it’s all for naught. Does that mean I think he doesn’t assault any of the women? No, absolutely not. There’s a sex swing in that cellar. It’s just a matter of repenting. The first time we ever see Bo’s face, he’s on his knees in the church. Out of all the empty buildings in Ambrose he chose to go pray at church before the group showed up. He knows what he’s gonna do and knows he shouldn’t. Hence the other meaning of the kiss again, the apologetic side combined with the resistance.

Bo is such a deeply, deeply complex character. He went through so much only to turn around and inflict so much. Going back to their father’s choice to do the surgery on his own, the impacts of having a whole person removed from the back of Bo’s head is so unknown.

From the way they were conjoined, their skulls may have very well been attached. Seeing as Vincent has impacts to the development of his brow bone, cheek bone, lower jaw, and nasal bridge, those bones would have to go somewhere, and the realistic answer is that they would’ve been fused to Bo, or at least the parts of those would’ve been there. All in the back of Bo’s head, directly against his skull. To me, it’s incredibly, incredibly unlikely that no impacts would’ve been made on Bo’s brain development. How much of his violent impulses are even his own, and how much comes from a traumatic brain injury, inflicted by their father himself. Certainly blaming that baby for being a monster, when it’s a consequence of his own behavior, seems about fitting with the rest of the manipulation processes that go on in that family. Which Bo had to learn from somewhere. Trudy was likely his biggest abuser, but I think Bo modeled a lot of himself, unconsciously, after their father. Killing him was just taking on that role, and the religious filtering of it all, is Bo’s way of processing that. The father, the son, and mama’s Holy Spirit.

[lelanida]

The dualism of Sky. A small essay.

Vincent Diamante, maestro, we don't deserve you. Music is the heart and soul of Sky. It's not the face of the game, no. Music does not try to attract attention and force you to interrupt the gameplay in order to enjoy it. Instead, it works for the atmosphere, not just without overriding everything else but also giving other aspects leadership positions. Sky's music is patiently waiting for you to pay attention to it. And since we're all here, let's appreciate it.

Sky has two main leitmotifs. The first is the theme of our first flight on the Isle of Dawn. It also plays during the loading of the game during the daytime. The second is the "Flight" by Aurora. Not many people pay attention to this, but these two melodies accompany us (in one form or another) in a bunch of other compositions. "The first flight" sounds at moments of special emotional uplift and "Flight" at moments of decline. You may think: "Well, what's the big deal? The music, written at a time when lore was still important, contains an interesting subtext.". But it's not that simple. I listened to the rest of Sky ost. I have tracked the use of these leitmotifs, and I can say with confidence that these two themes never play together. The composition either uses only one of the leitmotifs, or both, but at different ends of the song... ...I was thinking until I listened to the soundtrack of the season of prophecy.

The theme that sounds when you complete the trial. In it, both leitmotifs are woven together.

This is the ONLY theme in the entire game built in this way. I sat in a stupor for a while and was about to bury this musical analysis. But then it hit me. What was the season of prophecy about anyway? No, not about the trials. NO, not about the extra candle cakes. The season of prophecy was about Alef.

The theme of passing the trial is the theme of Alef. And it combines two opposing leitmotivs.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, get ready for madness because this simple detail puts everything in its place.

As soon as I found out about the existence of the Megabird in lore of Sky, this character immediately interested me. I liked how she was essentially detached from the whole action, but at the same time, incredibly tightly woven into it. Megabird is Sky's phenomenon whose potential TGC is afraid to exploit.

I have always been confused by the generally accepted image of a Megabird. She is always portrayed as a powerful, very wise, prudent, and merciful being. The true and only ruler of this world. Everyone was pleased. But not me. And the most important thing is that I couldn't explain why! Something inside me subconsciously resisted the concept of monotheism within the framework of Sky, but there was no specific reason. I had a feeling that it was simply... wrong. And now I realized: This is indeed wrong! Megabird, as the only deity, will actually break the whole system!

Sky is steeped in dualism. It's always one thing against another. I mean:

Life and death.

Nature and machine.

Sky and ground.

Descendants and ancestors.

Children and elders.

Light and darkness.

In this, Sky is different from Journey. In Journey, you didn't have a clear enemy. Journey taught that you can become your own enemy. The ancient civilization destroyed itself, not someone from outside. And the messengers must step over themselves, and themselves only in order to be reborn. Journey taught you to look into yourself. Sky is about something else.

Even though the concepts of these games are similar, Sky is a fundamentally different game. Sky is about joining up with others. Therefore, Sky sets a clear boundary between "we" and "they". And I'm not saying it's a bad thing. Otherwise, this system simply would not have worked. In Sky, everything has an opposing force. The other side of the coin, if you please.

Megabird just can not be the only deity. This contradicts the whole system, starting from philosophy and ending with music. Someone, something, sentient, unsentient, there MUST BE SOMETHING on the other side. That's why I made Angst.

Let's return to the topic of the two leitmotifs and the Alef. The system of confrontation between the two sides can give us an answer to another question.

What is "the void"?

We know that after the explosion of the crystal, Alef fell in a kind of "void", from which he still has not found a way out. But what kind of place is this? Many people used to think that this is something like a dimension of darkness. But I can disagree with this.

At first It is logical: Alef was imprisoned in a darkstone crystal and fell into darkness. But I have a question: Why does this "darkness" charge us?

The void is not darkness. If it was the darkness, it would have extinguished the skykids' cores in the blink of an eye. The void is the place BETWEEN light and darkness.

Alef, the child of light, was imprisoned in a darkstone crystal, the gift of darkness. Together, they created a new, third kind of energy. Chaotic, unpredictable, wrong. Alef has united in himself, things that, according to the laws of this world, cannot be combined. Therefore, it is his theme that connects the two main leitmotivs of the game. The Alef was on both sides at the same time.

But you can't be on two sides. You're either light or dark, or you're not on anyone's side, like ancestors were. At the moment of the Shattering, Alef literally tore the fabric of the Sky universe itself. That's why he got into the void. After all, if he does not obey the fundamental law of this world, then he has nothing to do in this world.

The void is the space between light and darkness. Like a number divided by zero, the void is negligible, but at the same time infinite. It is a mirror that doesn't allow energy to mix. Therefore, the floor in it charges us. The void reflects our own light back into the cape.

That's why the Megabird sends us to die in Eden. With our sacrifice, we repeat the same shattering on a reduced scale and fall into the void to the Alef. But Alef sacrifices a fragment of his former power to bring us back to the side of light. And when that happens, the void just pushes us out.

Something like that.

[mintygreencake]

Little reminder,

Your faves would not be alive if it wasn't for Milo Greer. And I stand by that, because if Asher stayed in the ward any longer I promise you he'd be on t-shirt. That also goes for Damien, David, Lovely and most likely Huxley. 💀 (Probably Sam and Vincent too cuz I know they wouldn't last too long)

Your faves would have been your favorite clothing brand by the time the department gathered their forces.

Just another reason why Milo Greer is THAT guy, shout out to my man he just built like that 😭

[doja365]

[Unwanted Ransom(Chapter 6)]

Masterlist Brutus

TW- some shows of mental illness

10 years ago...

"Xerxes come on say something this is a safe place."

"Then why is there a camera?"

"It's there just in case you get-"

"I get what, crazy? Yeh, lady I know the drill"

"It says in your file that you have gone through multiple doctors in the past since your mother's death."

"And what makes you think you can fix me?"

"Because you are special, you have so much potential, and you put it all to waste."

"Who cares? My so called 'family', if I can recall they abandoned me, neglected me, and one of the little brats scarred me." Yep you obviously know who I'm talking about

"Xerxes, don't put the blame on others."

"You've been married for 15 years, three kids, one teen, one toddler, and one infant.

You're parents are divorced and no matter how many times you and your husband hate each other you wanna stay married in order to prevent the same trauma you had pass on to your kids.

Did I get it correct? Oh wait don't answer that I'm always correct." I sighed laying my head down.

"And you've become observant when it comes to hurting others, see I've studied your pattern of behaviour based on the reviews all your other doctors have represented to me before I took this case. And boy was it a long read.

Technically I'm entitled to tell you anything that could help you. And you thought that you could go through me?"

"I don't give a fuck what people say, who do I trust? No one, if a friend wants to jump on train tracks, don't expect me to hold their hand.

I don't give a damn what they insinuate about me anymore, I am an Amala never a Wayne, so I don't give a damn what you think you're entitled to." And with that I abruptly stood up and grabbed my bag, I head out there.

The only reason I went there because, my 'dad' heard that I got into a fight and handcuffed the brat in the janitor's closet.

Just suck it up Xerxes, in a few years, you can finally escape them.

'Just suck it up' That's the advice I'd always tell myself no matter how much I cried, scream, or hurt myself.

Present...

"AHHHH, PETE, THERE IS A FUCKING BUILDING!!!!" I screamed as I held on tight to him.

"JENNY MOVE YOUR HAIR, OH SHIT!!!" he lost a bet so he had to swing me from Vincent's house to dad's. When we finally descended, I sighed and laid on the floor for a while.

"Y'know MJ would normally puke with this." He sighed.

"I'm built different" And I walked normally inside my house, I didn't feel any signs of...

fuck

oh wait

Oh shit

never-mind

I rushed to my bedroom's toilet and hurled a lot. Gosh, I should've listened to MJ. With that I washed my face, and brushed my mouth. I went down-stairs ignoring my surroundings.

I kinda had a crush on Pete for a while, but then I met Vincent and felt like Pete is a brother to me.

"AYOO, PETE LET'S GO WATCH SAW 2-" I immediately cut myself off when I saw, something I thought was a dream.

oh wait

it can't be

tell me I'm dreaming.

OH SHIT....

"Hey baby bird-" Richard stuttered, and tried to hug me.

"Back off Grayson, dad what the fuck is going on."

"Xerxes-"

"Who said I was talking to you limp-dick? Now dad seriously what the hell is going on here?" I looked at dad with puppy eyes, gosh I'm so adorable.

"Now, they just came here to drop your stuff." He explained.

"They are not my things they are Xerxes' things, I only things that I need are what I have now." I stated, as I looked at the cunt who ruined my life, I only sighed.

"Xerxes-"

"Zip it Timothy, or I'll tear you're tongue from your head." I stated, I've been watching the Originals again, and might I add, Nikklaus' has been looking good.

"Xerxes-" Jason tried to start. But I cut him off with a glare, he then corrected himself.

"Jennifer, we miss you and we apologise-"

"For what? Neglecting me? Abandoning me? LEAVING ME TO DIE?"

"We didn't mean to." They all protested.

"Bullshit!"

"Language!" Dad sighed.

"When is my birthday?"

"January 7?"

"No, it's September 8, what the hell is wrong with you people?" I was eager to run and ditch these people and run up to my room.

"Xerxes, you're my sister come on." He tried to grab me, but I dodged it and grabbed his hand spinning him downwards. Thanks Nat.

"Touch me one more time, and your arm won't be the only thing that will hurt."

I immediately rushed upstairs and ran to my room, locking it, which activates voice-recognition. Gosh, I was so angry with them. I started to get really angry and accidentally punched a hole in my wall that was connected to Morgan's room.

"JENNY!!!" Oh fuck.

"SORRY M! I'll fix it later." And with that I just dropped onto the bed. I grabbed my phone and texted Vincent.

Jinx- Hey V

V- Hey Jen, how r u?

Jinx- My previous fucked-up family is back now

V- damn, wanna hang tommorow? 🙂

Jinx- Sure, but I gotta lotta hw tho 😢

V- call me if you can then 🤙🏻

And with that I decided to lay down and wonder how fucked up my life could get. I started to fall asleep so I decided to shut down all of my devices, in order to avoid the annoying sound of the 'Brady Bunch' trying to text me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N- It could've been longer if my dumbass didn't accidentally delete my first draft, could've been so much better.

Taglist

@lunayaps, @not-aya, @iluvcatzz, @vanessa-boo, @ivyrose9194

[desmorotu]

more redacted headcanons!!!

some might be angsty? most of them?

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

- i saw a hc where milo isn’t necessarily short, but the other guys are just unbelievably tall. in my head milo is 5’11, ash is 6��5, and david is 6’9. tank is the only one who looks deceiving bc they’re like 5’10 in my head but their wolf is as big as david’s. ppl from the outside make the joke that shaw security is secretly a tall person club

- guy was a music major before he switched to writing. i mentioned it in his playlist post but i get those vibes HARD. he also writes honey poetry because he knows they secretly like it

- i like the idea that darlin and angel came from a rough family upbringing because 1. it’s relatable to a lot of ppl and 2. it would explain why tank shoves themselves into harms way and why angel is so outgoing now. it shows different responses to trauma imo.

- babe sometimes has crippling panic attacks on the thought of angel being a latent empowered and leaving them alone as the unempowered person of the group, but in my mind babe is the latent one and they’re a fire elemental.

- sweetheart feels guilty sometimes for being empowered while the other mates aren’t. they know it has absolutely nothing to do with them and that they can’t do anything about it, but sometimes they feel a pang in their heart at the fact that the other two won’t feel their core swell and warm up when looking at their mates.

- starlight has night terrors about the time they fell down—both times. they also think about when avior fell and they can’t help but intrusively picture what he looked like when he finally landed. it makes them physically ill. avior has to be extra careful when talking back about their experiences sometimes.

- lovely is still goes to therapy every week to work through the trauma of adam, dying, and now they’ve added the summit on top of that. they’re withering away into a husk of themselves. they’re so exhausted with dealing with all of this pressure, but they’d do anything for vincent (and i think that’s going to be their downfall).

- gavin has been brought to tears on multiple occasions at the thought that freelancer loves him for him and not just because he’s an incubus. he’s had to muffle his sobs because he genuinely does not know how he deserved someone so loving. he hasn’t brought it up to them yet.

- i think that freelancer is on the ace spectrum (greysexual maybe?) and that gavin was the only person they’ve ever really had sex with, or wanted to have sex with. they trusted him enough to “show them the ropes” and he built their confidence to where it is now. gavin helped build their relationship with sex and while they’re still on the spectrum, they’re more positive about it and they enjoy that kind of intimacy with him.

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

that’s all that i can squeeze out of my brain rn >:( i haven’t been on tumblr that much and UGH it’s just bc my real life is more interesting than my redacted life (which is a very good thing, but still it makes me sad) and i have no motivation to post 💔 but here are some hcs that have been on my mind lately :3 i hope they make sense

k byeee 💟

[us3rnam3-r3dact3d]

remembering again the full extent of what forever is

Ao3 | 3.6k Words | William's POV

TW: Blood and injury, angst, hurt no comfort, self deprication and hatred, intimidation and threats of harm/death.

“Solaire.” David Shaw’s voice was steady on the other end of the line, even as William heard the not so muffled sounds of rowdy wolves in the background. “This is a courtesy call. Doesn’t have to be anything more.”

"Alpha Shaw," William replied, "what can I do for you?"

“I just kicked the shit out of one of yours.”

_

Alexis makes another play for Sam after finding out he is leaving the House of Solaire. David intercepts. William cleans up his mess, fifteen years late.

William Solaire is not a kind man.

William had a cellphone, but he rarely ever used it. It was mostly for the purpose of reaching his few, non-clan contacts. His most common calls were to the Department, hour long affairs of waiting on hold, talking in circles, and nearly pulling his hair out trying to get even the simplest things done. 

So, when he heard the insistent buzz of his phone somewhere in his office while taking his morning (evening) coffee, he was surprised. Most people didn’t call him. He had clan members who vetted and handled most communication coming in to him, sorting out what was pointless, what could be handled by lower ranking members of the House, and what actually needed to go to him. There were only a few people who had his direct phone number. His progeny, both of whom were avoiding him. Samuel, who was avoiding him even more than Vincent and Alexis were.  Porter, who would only call if he were in a situation he truly couldn’t get himself out of, which was unlikely, seeing as he was in Skyside for a short vacation after the business at the Summit. 

He had fumbled with his coffee, opening every drawer in his desk before finally finding it under a stack of file folders on the bottom right. He huffed and answered the call just as it was about to be sent to voicemail. 

“Solaire.” David Shaw’s voice was steady on the other end of the line, even as William heard the not so muffled sounds of rowdy wolves in the background. Will didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of this particular outcome. Most likely because he and Shaw rarely if ever communicated directly. Their territory agreements were initially set in place by Shaw’s father, whom William had known professionally for many years before his death. It was out of respect for Gabriel Shaw that William made no move to encroach on Shaw territory after he died. It would have been too easy. Such a young alpha, so inexperienced, and riddled with grief. He had instead allowed David Shaw the time to grow into an alpha in his own right, subsisting off of more than just his father’s memory. It was a wise investment. The Shaws were a valuable ally to have, even if that allyship was becoming tenuous due to his actions at the summit. They were valuable, but fatally mortal. Shaw and his pack were not built to understand William’s thoughts and actions. He thought that a kindness of sorts. “This is a courtesy call. Doesn’t have to be anything more.” 

“Alpha Shaw.” William spoke to David Shaw with respect, just as he had his father, just as he did during their first meeting. Even that broken, snappy young man had always been called ‘Alpha’ in William’s presence. “What can I do for you?” He checked his watch, a beautiful, green faced thing that Vincent had bought for him. He had forgotten that. He blinked and refocused. It was nearing midnight. Too late for the Shaws to be incredibly active. 

“I just kicked the shit out of one of yours.” 

While they didn’t speak frequently, William had had his fair share of conversations with Shaw over the years. He had never heard him speak like this, or indeed sound so angry, so outraged. 

Will’s cold heart seized in his chest. 

“Samuel?” William breathed, but felt foolish as soon as the name left his lips. Shaw audibly scoffed. Of course not. For one thing, Samuel was no longer a member of his clan. For another, he was the mate of one of Shaw’s wolves. If he did anything to hurt his mate, William could see Shaw protecting his own over Samuel, but from what he knew about the man, Shaw wasn’t the punishment type. 

“No.” Shaw snapped. “Alexis.” 

“Ah.” William sighed. That pounding of fear and pain in his chest from an hour or so prior. Alexis got into trouble often, and his connection to her pain had distanced over the last fifty years. It certainly wasn’t as present as Vincent’s still was, as the echoes of his own progeny’s emotions were. Betrayal, sweet and cloying, still sat heavily in his throat. “That, I will admit, makes more sense.” 

“She’s drunk.” Shaw replied. “At least… Sam says she’s drunk. I don’t know how it works for vampires.” 

“It’s possible.” William confirmed. “She must have fed from another vampire.” 

“Yeah.” Shaw ground out. “She certainly did. She stepped foot on my territory. I’m entitled to defend it and my pack.” 

“Absolutely.” William said. He ran his hand over his face and fought not to sigh straight into the phone’s receiver. Stupid. She was now his only heir and she was encroaching on tenuous ally’s territory. She would be the death of him. 

“If you’d like to collect her, I’m looking right at her. Or I can hand her over to D.U.M.P..” 

“I’ll be there momentarily.” 

The Shaw den was well known to him. He had never been inside himself, but most of Dahlia was split between their two groups in terms of territory. The den was familiar to him as he was sure Wonder World was familiar to David. He carried a healthy level of suspicion and respect about the place, just like he did the people who inhabited it. Power respects power. Like calls to like. 

He knocked. It felt silly to knock. He entered every room with the certainty of his presence. He rarely had occasion to knock, but it would most likely be uncouth to appear inside of the den unannounced when they’d been attacked by someone bearing his blood mere hours earlier. Shaw’s Beta answered. He’d met the man once before, but was embarrassed to say that he couldn’t remember his name. The wolf grinned and stepped aside, ushering him in. 

“She’s healing already.” The Beta reported. “I’m sure she’ll be good by sunrise, given how much blood Sammy says she must have drunk.” 

It was uncomfortable to hear the endearment on the wolf’s lips. He shook off the instinct to demand respect for his Duke. Samuel wasn’t his Duke anymore. 

“I have no doubt that she’ll recover.” William smiled politely. The Beta had a casual air about him, but William could feel the raised hackles of every wolf they passed on the way to the Alpha’s office. It wasn’t an unusual sensation for William. He was, more often than not, the most powerful being in any room.

They rounded a corner to a small corridor of open offices, and Will spotted Samuel on a plush leather couch, bent over his knees and taking exaggerated breaths. His mate was sat next to him, blood dried over their mouth, rubbing small circles into Samuel’s back. 

Will moved before he even thought. He was knelt before Samuel in an instant, searching for his eyes. He heard the heart rate of every wolf in the room pick up. The Beta stilled and held out a hand. Everyone froze. The only sounds were the hammering of half a dozen hearts and the snarls and growls of Sam’s mate, startled into a defensive position by his sudden movement. 

William didn’t touch. He knew that this wolf’s claim to Samuel was more powerful, more sacred than any he’d ever had. Still, seeing him shake, struggle to breathe, made Will’s throat tight. 

“Samuel,” he said softly. Sam didn’t look up. He could see better from this vantage point. Samuel’s knuckles were bloody but long healed over. There was a mess of red on the side of his neck. 

Alexis had bitten him. 

William felt anger boil in his stomach like acid. He hadn’t felt like this in fifteen years, since the night he’d carried a shaking newborn from Alexis’s house. 

“Oh my boy,” he said softly. He looked up to Sam’s mate, who was swallowing growls and trying not to flash teeth. He could smell Alexis’s- his- blood on them. He shook his head. “I am so sorry. I will deal with her.” 

“You should have already dealt with her.” Samuel’s mate sneered. Sam stiffened. “She fucking bit him.” 

Will didn’t reply to the disrespect. He owed them this. He owed Samuel this moment. He wouldn’t let his damned pride take that from him. 

He stood, let his hand grace over Sam’s hair as his mate’s growls subsided. 

He knocked gently, unnaturally on the Alpha’s office door. 

Shaw was sat at his desk, his face and hair splattered with blood, inspecting his battered knuckles as he stared down Alexis. She was sat across from him in one of the plush, maroon chairs for visitors. William could almost convince himself that she was having a civil meeting, sitting politely with her back to him. As he stepped closer, though, he could see the strange tilt to her head, he could hear her ragged breathing. 

“Solaire.” Shaw nodded, his face grave. He indicated lazily towards Alexis. “She’s fucked up but she’ll live.” 

William rounded the chair and got a good look at Alexis. Most of the minor damage had healed, leaving behind smudges and splatters of blood and dirt where there were once cuts and scrapes. The worst of it, though, was still healing. Someone, most likely Samuel’s mate, had taken a bite out of her neck and shoulder. The meat of her shoulder was oozing blood down her front, staining her torn dress from blood red to black. Her throat was pried open like a clam, the pearl of her exposed trachea fluttering as it tried to maintain its structure. Her blackened eyes were hazy as they glared back at Shaw. Her arms twitched, her inch long, sharpened nails digging into the crushed velvet arm of the chair. Will imagined that, if she had the strength, she’d be biting for anything with a pulse, Shaw included. One of her hands jerked towards him as he came into her line of sight. He took it gently in his own. 

“Your kindness does not go unnoticed.” William replied to Shaw. “And it will not be forgotten. If I may, what exactly happened?” David nodded slowly and ran his fingers through his hair, which had begun to go stiff with blood. 

“Sam was attending a pack meeting.” He said after a moment. “That’s his right. His mate is a member of this pack, so he is too. Your progeny-“ he sneered as he looked at her, “-invited herself. My Beta and I met her at the door and barred her from stepping foot in our den. She was… unsteady. Sam asked for privacy and stepped out to take care of it. His mate followed. By the time I smelled blood she was already on the ground. It took three of us to get my wolf off of her.” 

Alexis coughed and squeezed his hand, her lips curling up in disgust or anger. William couldn’t keep his attention on her face for very long. He didn’t know if it was the echoes of her pain or his own that filled him up when he did. 

“I apologize for my clan’s intrusion on your territory.” 

“And-“ Shaw raised his hand, his face twisting, as though apologizing for the interruption. “-and the intrusion on my pack. Sam is the mate of one of my wolves. That makes him a full fledged member of this pack.” 

William’s brow furrowed. He was well acquainted with vampires’ sometimes antiquated ideas about shifters and other mortal empowered races. The idea that a vampire would lower themself so much as to identify as part of a pack above their own Clan of origin was shameful to many older beings like himself. He couldn’t help the shiver of prideful objection that tried to overtake him. It was his blood in Samuel’s veins. That part of him screamed to draw him back, to collect him away from harm, to have him and understand him and protect him in a way that Shaw never could in his last fifty-odd years on this earth. 

But that was the same instinct that screamed in Alexis to cross territory lines. That was the same instinct inside of her that turned Sam, even when he begged her not to. That possession before love, before respect, before care. That ugly part of her that William punished so readily came from him. 

So he swallowed it down like blood in his throat. Hot and bitter and unkind. Samuel did not belong to him.

“I want to be very clear to you, William.” Shaw continued, his voice teetering on the edge of control. William imagined that it was only the mutual respect the two of them had cultivated that kept Shaw from losing his grasp in decorum entirely at this point. “Sam is mine. He is a member of my pack. He belongs to his mate. And he belongs to me. She touched what is mine . Sam asked me to keep her alive, so I did. But if he had allowed it, I would have killed her, regardless of any allyship.”

“You openly admit your willingness to kill my progeny?” William asked. His voice was purposefully blank of anything that would give away his position on this issue. Shaw was treading on dangerous ground. Many kings had killed for less.

“Yes.” Shaw replied easily, as though he were unaware that that word alone could be the punctuation on his life. Shaw knew it. William could see it in those dark, steady eyes. “In order to make this next part stick in her brain.” Those dark eyes shifted to Alexis, who was struggling to sit up properly in her chair. Her neck was fluttering closed, healing slowly. “If you come onto my territory again, if you hurt a member of my pack, if you so much as look at Sam in a way that displeases me, I won’t take his wishes into consideration. He wants you left alive out of some sense of Maker loyalty? That’s fine. But I won’t let the opinions of a single pack member revoke my right to protect what is mine. Do that shit again, and you’ll meet your end between my teeth. Do you understand?” 

Alexis bared her bloody teeth, gasping down air and blood. 

“He’s mine.” She gasped, voice ragged and popping. “In a way he can never be yours. When you’re dead and gone, he and I will still be here. And when I’m ruling monarch of the House of Solaire, I’ll do what I please with him.” 

Silence rang through the room. William swore he could see Shaw’s teeth grow and sharpen in his mouth. Heat bubbled up in his own chest. Shame burned through him in a way it never had before. 

Will’s hand snaked to the back of Alexis’ neck, cradled her nape in a gentle hold. He had made the decision before she even finished talking. 

“Alexis will never have her invocation rights returned to her.” William said softly. Two sets of predator’s eyes snapped to him. “I will give my own ability to invoke her to Vincent.” 

“ Vincent ?” Alexis screached, jerking under his hand. He held fast, his nails digging into the tender flesh. 

“He is a closer ally to the Shaw pack than he is to me, now.” A rueful smile curled around his elongated fangs. “Should something happen to me and Alexis become monarch of the House, someone outside of her control will hold her invocation rights. Vincent is a kind man, and will not abuse that ability over her. And he loves Sam. More and better than I was ever capable of.” William cut his gaze to Shaw. “Is this satisfactory?” Shaw stared him down, unblinking, and unafraid of a trance or threat. It was rare for another empowered person to meet his eye. He supposed that was why he had always liked Shaw so much. He was unafraid of William’s power, but not ignorant of it. 

“That’s a big thing to give up.” Shaw sighed, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “I find it hard to believe that you would hand over any power, let alone something so… useful.” His lips curled around the word with disgust. Shaw was far from the first mortal to find invocations distasteful. Wolves. They so valued their freedom, their democracy. Short sighted, fast fading, mortal creatures. William had seen Shaw’s father pass through life in the blink of an eye. Shaw would do the same. Already, his brow was creased with premature worry lines. The quiet, twenty-year-old Beta had become the intimidating, thirty-year-old Alpha would become an old man would become a body in the ground. He aged, and he would die. He could not protect Sam, not in any meaningful way. In the long run, it would fall to William. This was the least he could do for Sam, who he had failed in so many ways, so many times. 

“I care for Sam more than I value this power.” He admitted softly. “And… I am more ashamed of my progeny’s actions than words can describe.” He folded his hand over his chest and bowed his head. William had not bowed to anyone in centuries, not since his Maker had forced him to. William knew with a frightful certainty when his Maker’s blood had adorned his body like a brand new, tailored suit that he would bow to no one ever again. And yet here he was, his head inclined, his back bending under the weight of his progeny’s actions, his actions. Shaw sucked in a breath as Alexis jerked. He knew how rare this was. “I beg the forgiveness of your pack and its Alpha.” Shaw bristled under the formality. 

“Yeah well…” he huffed. “Get her off of my land and keep her off.” 

“Happily.” 

Shaw left the office to move Samuel away before William and Alexis made their leave. Sam didn’t deserve to hear her screeching as she spat venom into Will’s face, into the face of his only ally left in this town. WillIan’s gaze froze her in her spot even as she craned to catch sight of Samuel through the door as Shaw left. The shadow of Shaw’s imposing figure blocked his pack from their view. 

“I think,” William said softly, his voice stilling Alexis’ frantic movements, “that it is time to reorder my Court.” 

Alexis finally fell into silence. She blinked up at him owlishly, her blackened eyes brimming with… something. Anger, perhaps. Or grief. 

“What?” She breathed. He brushed his knuckles against her throat and let what little magic he could externalize flow into her. His magic knew hers, had known hers for fifty years now, as well as it knew himself. It was his blood in her veins, afterall. Everything that she was he had been, he was. 

Her wounds closed over slowly. She winced at the sting of his magic, rarely ever used to heal. Samuel would have made easy work of those injuries. William wondered if someone had stopped him from healing her. He doubted that Sam would have let an injury lie unless under direct order from his mate or his Alpha. 

He was so good. And it was Alexis’s blood in him. It was William’s.  

“You do not want to rule a House.” He replied. “Not truly. You want power over those around you. And you want the freedom to do what you please. But you cannot have both. To carry power over others is to be tied to them, to belong to them. That is something you have never understood.” 

“Will-“

“It would be a kindness, I think,” he said, “to save you from the burden of the crown.” He bent to lift her up into his arms, cradled her head until it rested, limply, against his shoulder. She spasmed for a moment but eventually gave in to his hold. He was reminded of a night decades ago, holding a slight, bloody thing in his arms in the woods outside of his territory. She fought his every touch, his every kindness. He remembered, even then, even in the dying tilt of her, the hunger that rang through every bone. That was there before him, but it was so familiar she might have inherited it. Perhaps that was why he had turned her. Perhaps that was why he had allowed her to live after what she did to Samuel. Perhaps that was why she had remained on his court, in his line of succession. 

No more. William Solaire was not a kind man, least of all to himself. The parts of him that had bled for Alexis stopped here, in this room, in an unfamiliar office in the territory of the only ally he had left, an ally he might have strengthened or lost tonight. 

“You are my progeny.” He said softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head through her blood-matted hair. “I will care for you for the rest of your life.” He closed his eyes to his next words, let them wash over her unobserved. He owed her this, at least this. “But if you touch Samuel again, Shaw won’t have to kill you. I will do it myself.” 

He carried her home, tucked into his arms and weeping. He prayed that, come morning, his progeny would still be his, that the ache in his chest- her chest- would ease. He prayed that, one day, he would pay back all that he owed. 

For all of his riches, he doubted he would ever wrap his hands around enough. That, William thought, had always been his problem.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Anne Baxter (The Ten Commandments, All About Eve)—her soft, gentle voice in "all about eve", those gentle eyes with something odd behind them, the way she flips from Sweet Innocent to Viper on a dime......there was something Built Different about anne baxter, man, and it makes her so good for playing people who are Built Wrong. also one of my favorite batmen villains (her joint episode w vincent price is a delight) and of course I'm obsessed with her columbo episode where she bosses around edith head and does fabulous movie star things for no good reason. and i would be REMISS if i didn't mention her slink—oh the slink—in the ten commandments...................pardon me i must go think of sinning again

Waheeda Rehman (Chaudhvin Ka Chand, Pyaasa, Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam)—90+ films and counting, an absolute legend of Hindi cinema. When I see her in Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam it makes me want to chew glass

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Anne Baxter:

The prettiest murderer in that film. Just so beautifully evil as Nefertari.

Anne Baxter was part of my Bisexual Awakening. My family has a tradition that every Palm Sunday we watch The ten commandments on TV together... And starting from a very young age, I essentially developed a crushes on Anne Baxter's Nefertiri & Yul Brynner's Ramses. Dude, the woman was HOT! They both were! My crush definitely wasn't helped by the fact that Anne Baxter's costumes were a bit on the sheer side. She had a way of capturing you with her eyes, and I never understood why Charlton heston's Moses didn't just have a threesome with Nefertiri and Ramses. LOL

Her Nefertiri in The Ten Commandments was FORMATIVE TO ME. If not the hottest old movie lady, then she definitely played the hottest old movie character. if that makes sense.

Look. Listen. I only *just* discovered her on a post from the Have You Seen This Romcom poll blog. Saw she had the same last name as me and went OOH hi hello. Went to her IMdB and saw she was born in Indiana like moi. I am now even more intrigued. Been eagerly telling my partner this, and he was like "maybe you guys are distantly related?" And after 2 hrs of going down the tumblr tag + her imdb photos, I'm In Deep(tm) and I can't stop looking at her like 😍 When I go to my grandma's house, bet your ass I'm gonna check my grandpa's genealogy and see if we're somehow related. Sorry that's not really propaganda I just got real excited, esp when I saw that the submission deadline was extended (bless your soul). Narrowing down the movies where she's hottest in was Hell tyvm. I've only just discovered her, she looks gorgeous to me in every movie still I see of her gdi lol.

Waheeda Rehman propaganda:

Linked gif

Linked gif 2

[glazedsnail]

I finally typed the silly Shane x ♀Reader I had in my notebook for weeks.

It's an accidental voyeurism tale of what happens when you try to check in on newlyweds.

Warnings: NSFW/Accidental Voyeurism/Swearing

Small extract:

‘They’re still at it.’ ‘Abby, get down, we shouldn’t be watching.’ ‘You can stop watching, but I know you want me to narrate.’ She laughs, without being contradicted. Penny slowly joins her. ‘Aw, her wedding dress is on the floor.’ She says, as she sees your hastily discarded garment. Hopefully from where she is, she cannot see the tears, other snatched laces, and even teeth marks Shane left on your dress as you finally arrived in your now conjugal bed. 

Pretty tamed, and honestly? I wrote it back then especially for the lame joke at the end. A fun small read.

Ao3 version up here, and Tumblr version under the cut.

Picture of the incriminating notebook I write quick smuts in. You'd never guess.

‘The wedding was great, wasn’t it?’ Following an idea of Mayor Lewis, the entirety of Pelican Town is heading to the farm. Better than admitting that he forgot to give you their wedding gift, he pretends he had planned to give it as a group the next day. ‘Why did we have to be so early though.’ Most young adults are recovering from the reception. ‘She’s a farmer, they’ll be up.’ ‘Anyone saw them leave the reception last night?’ Asks Marnie, Jas trailing behind in her hand. ‘They just up and disappeared, did they not?’ Shrugs Gus, a bit saddened the newlyweds didn’t stay long enough to try his new deviled eggs recipe. ‘From their own wedding reception, how rude.’ ‘Right, Pierre’ Laughs Caroline ‘ Like you cared at all while slumped over the bar.’ ‘Open bar, may I add. Right?’ He shouts to the back of the cohort. ‘Ugh, don’t scream like that, dad.’ ‘My head…’ Moans Sam, holding Vincent with a limp arm. ‘Nobody forced you to drink that much.’ Snaps Jodi. ‘It’s a wedding, of course we’ll drink. Wasn’t expecting to have to wake up with the chickens the very next day.’ Groans Sebastian, head in his hood. ‘Speaking of, pleasantly surprised by Shane not having a single drink.’ ‘Well Marnie, you know he’s not had a drink for ages. Besides, he was too busy with the farmer…’ ‘Lewis!’ ‘Heh, perhaps this is why they left “early”...’ No other sounds are heard apart from the slow steps of everyone in the dirt path. ‘What do you mean, Elliott?’ ‘Oh, Penny, bless your heart.’ ‘You know what’s..expected after a wedding, right?’ ‘Alex, we have actual kids here, pipe down.’ Some throats are being audibly cleared. ‘Speaking of…Do you think it’s a sensible idea to…’ Too late, they’re at your farm. The sun shines on all the bountiful crops. Bleatings and mooings can be heard. ‘Oh the poor things, sound like they’re hungry.’ Pities Marnie. ‘That’s not possible, she’s nothing but diligent on all the feedings and tending!’ They walk to your house. The dry soil makes them realize you’ve not watered anything yet. Bizarre. They’re used to more assiduousness in your daily tasks. Your pet’s water bowl is even empty. The younger villagers start snickering. ‘What’s so funny?’ Snaps Lewis. ‘I mean…’ Abigail starts, in between laughs. A heavy “thump” is heard from the house. ‘Surely they can’t be fighting. Already?’ ‘If they’re fighting, Shane’s winning.’ ‘Vincent! Get down that crate this instant!’ Loudly whispers Jodi, snatching her son from the window from which she takes a peek. ‘Oh.’

She quickly retreats, signing to everyone else to do the same. ‘What?’ A collective ‘Ooh.’ erupts from the crowd as they eventually understand. They’re quickly gone from your property. However the younger ones have a better idea. ‘That’s uh, impressive.’ Gulps Maru, lending her window view to the next one. ‘Your mom built them a squeaky bed.’ Jokes Sam to Seb, joining him by the window. ‘The sound of the bed is what shocks you? Not Shane’s… stamina?’ He retaliates. ‘If that’s what beer and pizza gives you, why am I bothering with eggs and training?’ Laments Alex, looking away. 

‘They’re still at it.’ ‘Abby get down, we shouldn’t be watching.’ ‘You can stop watching, but I know you want me to narrate.’ She laughs, without being contradicted. Penny slowly joins her. ‘Aw, her wedding dress is on the floor.’ She says, as she sees your hastily discarded garment. Hopefully from where she is, she cannot see the tears, other snatched laces, and even teeth marks Shane left on your dress as you finally arrived in your now conjugal bed. The mere mention of you finally being his wife was enough to drive him crazy, and he was going to show you how great he would be at disrespecting you each time you’d walk the threshold of your bedroom. ‘Hey Emily, when she comes to you for mending don’t judge her too harshly.’ Abby is finding the whole ordeal very amusing, and cannot stop peeking at the window. ‘Do you think they just came home, got themselves naked and just went at it?? And…Are like that since last night?’ Emily says back. ‘That’s not physically possible.’ Haley scoffs, trying to look disinterested, on her toes from the porch. ‘I mean, with breaks. I see wrappers on the floor and’ ‘Oh, fuck Abby can you stop scanning the whole room?’ ‘Seb wants your focus on the bed.’ Sam laughs. ‘Hey, hands where I can see them!.’ ‘I’m grabbing a cigarette, you perv.’ ‘We’re all pervs.’ States Emily. ‘And I’m the oldest here. I should tell you all to stop this.’

But they don’t. They stop talking, but it only accentuates the sounds coming from the poorly sealed window. Shane is grunting as he makes you squeal, beg. Your voice only ever muffled by his wet kisses. The level of your moans growing as he groans ‘You love that huh? Come on, cum again for your husband.’. He feels your inside clenching at his voice, the sole allusion that Shane is your husband makes you quiver. Knowing that this is your husband’s cock hard at work against your plushy walls, and that it belongs to Shane, is more than efficient to make you see stars and leak all over him.

‘He’s…really making our farmer scream isn’t he.’ ‘They both sound like they’re having a good time.’ ‘We should stop watching. Aw they’re holding hands.’ ‘Penny, only you and Abs are watching right now.’ Seb points, smoke escaping from his smirk. ‘We should have stopped twenty minutes ago! As the oldest I take responsibility and’ Emily was about to grab Abigail and Penny but is stopped by the view. ‘Who knew Shane was this…potent.’ ‘Isn’t there something quite enticing?’ Laughs Abigail, welcoming Emily at the window. ‘No’ She shakes her head. ‘It’s so wrong!’ ‘I think it’s the tenderness and the…’ ‘Roughness?’ ‘Girls, can you PLEASE stop analyzing our friends’ love making?’  Sam, Seb, and Alex are down the porch, hands in their pockets, looking away. ‘Wait, wait.’ Abby says. ‘He’s…Oh Yobba he’s a healthy man! He’s falling on her chest, she’s shaking..’

She describes your arms wrapping around Shane, sweat falling on his back and forehead, resting on your bare chest as he gave you yet another orgasm. You’re both trying to find a steady breath, but cannot resist each other's lips. ‘I love you.’ You whisper to your husband, his head on your forehead, looking straight into your satisfied eyes. You feel his exhausted cock twitch inside of you, as if the words were enough to start him again. ‘I…love you’ Shane says back in between breaths. ‘I love you so much.’ he repeats, his sweaty hair finding the warm groove of your neck. You feel his hot breath on your chest, the fast thumping of his heart against your damp skin. His hand on your breast, his lips peppering kisses on the soft skin of your throat as if to apologize for the rough teeth marks he left all over, that you will carry for days. Showing off that you belong to him. 

‘Haley what the fuck are you doing??’ ‘The lighting is too good.’ She quickly whispers, snapping a picture of your intertwined bodies, falling into bliss. ‘Never going to look at Shane the same way now.’ Says Maru who joined the herd of men, clearing her throat. ‘Can’t believe he hid that from us, from me! His favorite coworker!’ They all laugh as they finally leave the window. ‘He belongs to the farmer now anyway.’ ‘Lucky lady…’ Whispers Penny ‘Hopefully that won’t affect the farm, right?’ 

They all look around your farm. One day of negligence won’t really be of any harm. But they need something to clean their mind. ‘We owe it to them.’ Ventures Alex. ‘Yeah, that’s the least we can do.’ Joins Seb. But they stay a long time standing without looking at each others. ‘So, do we start?’ ‘Give us a second, Penny.’ After a while the door swings open. ‘Aah!’ they scream. Shane, coffee in hand, an old pair of joggers on his worn out body, appears on the porch. ‘Good…Morning?’ He starts in a raspy voice, surprised to see such a crowd. They all get flustered, stammering one after the other. Emily takes a deep breath and starts. ‘How’s your coffee?’ She shouts clumsily. ‘I mean, enjoying yourself? I mean, enjoying your coffee? Outside? What a glorious day.’ Shane looks at all the faces one by one. ‘Erm’ he starts. ‘Can I help you?’ ‘We’re here to give you two your wedding gift.’ ‘But Mayor Lewis has it.’ ‘And he left.’ Shane’s confusion grows as their malaise expands. ‘Ok.’ He laughs, leaning on the door’s frame, pulling some of his wild sweaty hair falling away from his content face. ‘Thanks for coming to the wedding, actually.’ ‘You left before we could even say congrats, man.’ Says Sam, faking being hurt. ‘Surely had an itch to scratch.’ ‘Sebastian shut up.’ ‘Right.’ Shane chuckles. ‘Sorry ‘bout that. Needed to rest and all.’ He clears his throat, sipping on his coffee. They laugh awkwardly, in false understanding, knowing fully well what had happened. ‘We thought you might need some help around the farm, after last nigh…evening.’ Maru says, keeping them all on track. ‘Yes!’ Excitedly pipes Haley. ‘That’s why we’re here, cause we certainly didn’t hear or see anything and.’ Emily slaps the back of her head before whispering. ‘You’re staring at his crotch.’ ‘Is everything ok, Love. Oh.’ You appear at the door, a bathrobe tightly around your waist. You’re about to remove your hands from Shane but swiftly remembers that you’re married, and he’s yours. Despite his clear and usual abhorrence of public display of affection, he grabs you by the waist, bringing you to his warm embrace. After all, you’re his wife, and they are the intruders. It’d be rude not to show you how proud of his wife Shane truly is. ‘They’re here to…help around the farm? If I got it right?’ They quickly nod. ‘You must be exhausted.’ ‘You’ve been very busy.’ ‘Very very very busy.’ ‘Guys!’ Maru snaps, blushing heavily. ‘I’m not against it.’ You say, your hand secretly rubbing Shane’s back. ‘I wouldn’t mind just… resting with my husband.’ You add, grabbing his firm buttocks in your needy hand. ‘Thanks guys.’ Shane swiftly says, pushing you back in and closing the door, rebecoming the animal he was all night. They exhale, more or less proud of themselves for keeping a straight face. ‘So uh, where do we start?’ ‘Do you think they’re at it again?’ Abigail laughs. ‘Surely not!’ They pause, looking away or at their feet. ‘That’s not love at this point.’ Says Sebastian, lighting another cigarette. ‘That’s just lust.’ ‘No no, it’s definitely love.’ ‘Abby how the fuck are you back at the window?!’ ‘Oh yeah, she loves Shane’s assets alright.’ ‘Sam for Yoba’s sake don’t join her. Can’t you do like Maru and Penny? They’re already gone feeding the sheep.’ ‘Is that a euphemism?’ Haley laughs, walking towards the farm, not making Emily laugh one bit.

They watch you as you show Shane, your husband, how appreciative you are of all he’s done for your body all night. You’re kneeling in front of him sitting on the bed, his joggers barely down, his rough hand holding your hair, grabbing your skull, as you slowly stroke him, your tongue playing, teasing, tasting him. He groans, impatient, his hand shaking on the back of your head. And you take him whole.

Outside the window, they gasp. ‘Well.’ Abby starts, a grin on her face. ‘Shane must be pleased that his wife…’ ‘Abby…’ ‘Knows her way…’ ‘Abs I swear to Yoba and all that is dear.’ ‘Around a cock!’

[toonztown]

Mafia husband! x (GN) reader Part 1

How did your life get this like, slaving away for a man you don't love? it started 10 years ago, back in high school.

you remember being in class writing a particular topic you had been assigned in your notebook when you were called the principal's office, when you reached your eyes landed on your parents faces. they were crying.

tears streaming down endlessly as they wept openly, with red faces and puffy eyes. It seemed they were shedding tears for a long period of time, you were bewildered. Your parents especially your father never shed a single tear, not even when we had to bury the family dog after it succumb to old age.

your eyes scanned the room, besides your parents were scary men dressed in black suits covered head to toe in tattoos and piercings that was when your eyes landed on him.

a tall gentleman with slick back hair was sitting at the principal's desk, like the others he also had numerous tattoos and piercings, but this man had more jewelry than the others and was more well built as well . you assume from the cold dead gaze he gave you when your eyes met, he was the leader.

the corners of his lips curled to make a smirk as he looked at you up and down, looking back you wish you could have slapped that damn smirk off his face hard enough to leave a bruise.

"a fair price to pay, consider your debt cleared Mr. Vincent," the leader said, smirk widening into a grin*

Your father, Vincent Harvey, finally looked into your eyes. the words that came next would ruin your entire life. Well to explain, you father had always had a tiny bit of a gambling addiction, him and your mother often fought about him spending the rent money to 'test his luck' at the pub, he never once won.

he looked you in the eyes, and there was silence momentarily before he finally spoke, his voice was so soft that it was just above a whisper

"..looks my gambling finally caught up to me, i uh- borrowed a large sum of money from some very dangerous people to gamble, i lost it all in a matter of moments and.. you have to understand- they were going to kill us. it was the only way, my dear (Y/N) Mr. Capone here, asked for your hand in marriage.. in order to clear my debt."

after he finished speaking, i couldnt say anything. It was like words were stuck in your throat. your heart beat was pounding in your ears like big drums.. your entire life forcibly taken from you, just like that.

over the loud noises you could hear your parents try to explain the situation to you.. you didn't want to listen, how can they be so selfish to sell their own blood.. their only child to save their own skins.

the next few moments after were a blur, Mr. Capone and his cronies escorted you out to the car. Reluctantly you got in, looking out the window as they drove off to your new life.

you remember feeling a hand on you shoulder, you turned your head to see Mr. Capone who was smiling at you. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, maybe you'll learn to love him? what a foolish thought that was.

the next moment his nails were digging into your shoulder causing you to wince

"why the long face my betrothed? after all, your getting wed in a few days, like it or not." he said, his grip on your tightening to the point your sure a bruise will be left, a small pool of blood started to stain your white uniform. No matter how hard you pulled he wouldnt let you go, he seemed to be getting immense joy from your torment.

they finally pulled up into the driveway for a big mansion, he got out and opened the door for you . As you looked around your unfamiliar surroundings fear was carved into your face, looks like your life as a mafia's spouse had just begun.

[thewhumpcaretaker]

⚜ Marquis of Los Angeles: Ch. 5 - French Nights

ཐི♡ཋྀ Thank you for the beta-read, @kavalyera! ཐི♡ཋྀ

Summary: Vincent has started cooperating as a ghoul, performing tasks for Sebastian at night and sleeping by day. But neither he nor Sebastian can rest peacefully.

TW: nightmares, mind control, war PTSD

The California days were only the French nights. Vincent’s body recognized them instantly as the time for sleeping, for what would have been an early bedtime in Versailles. A depression bedtime, maybe, but so much the better. After all, he had just lost everything.

He came home at each sunrise so exhausted and haggard by LaCroix’s tasks. He went from end to end of the city, delivering inscrutable messages that he himself didn’t fully understand, stumbling through social interactions in an underworld whose alliances he had yet to master, being poked at and at times outright attacked by anyone who might wish to test what LaCroix’s latest plaything could do. What hurt the most was that he wanted so badly to do LaCroix’s work effectively and he didn’t even know why. His long-term plans (to gain vampiric power and undo LaCroix completely, of course), had little to do with these daily tasks. Yet he came home miserable over every inconvenience and misstep.

The sight of LaCroix overwhelmed him. His night built towards it in anticipation, and not because of the many gifts LaCroix tried to use to buy his affection. No, it was something about the look on the man’s face, an eagerness. As if it weren’t enough to wear full lips and strong nose and glimmering eyes (all of which he loved to picture bruised and bloody and humbled), those features arranged themselves in such a gloriously domineering way. All his attention fixed on Vincent with a desperate possessiveness, an expectation of performance, and such a pride whenever he did well. Vincent wanted more of that. But the encounter itself always proved too much for him, too nerve wracking. He would snap at LaCroix until LaCroix snapped right back, and run to his room wanting nothing more than to be unconscious.

And so, vampiric sleeping hours suited Vincent immediately, as did his new sleeping quarters in the guest bedroom down the hall from his regnant.

That very first night, LaCroix informed him that it was a great honor to be given this bedroom, that it was not ordinarily meant for ghouls, only for the few diplomats significant enough to be offered a day’s stay so close to his own resting place. Here was the respect Vincent had been promised. “Come to me if you need something,” LaCroix said, “Though I’ll appreciate it if you try Sheriff first. His is the last door, on left. You will note that one must pass by his room before reaching the elevator. So if you try to run away – “

Vincent rolled his eyes. “I won’t.”

“Yes. Well.” They nodded at each other awkwardly until Vincent had the good sense to close the door on LaCroix (finding, to his disappointment, that it did not lock), and began exploring his new cage.

A fine layer of dust told him that it was rarely used. The gilded writing desk in the corner had perhaps never been opened at all, and contained nothing. Neither did the dresser - LaCroix had no nightclothes large enough for him, but he’d promised to buy him something tomorrow. Everything was a mere shell in the style of a hotel room – made to look like a home but to usher the guest onward before it could become truly lived-in. Vincent would bet money that the Prince didn’t like having guests.

With nothing to see, he switched off the electric chandelier and the sun became his nightlight, creeping almost imperceptibly around the edge of the blackout curtains. He tried to open them, to look out at the city by day, but found that they were pinned tightly against the wall at each corner. In a rush of rebellion against his situation, he tore them free, and looked out from the dizzying height of Venture Tower. His hands toyed absently with the edge of the curtain as he lost himself in contemplation. Below, the people rushed through their morning commute, pulsing through the veins of the city at a steady beat. LaCroix’s people, LaCroix’s blood rivers. And his perhaps, one day, if he could wrench them away from his master. The sun played on his skin, kissing it. He was warm, and alive. He could make the best of this. Put him above any city and he would rule it. Yes, everything would be fine, and he’d just sleep with the curtains wide open so he felt a bit safer. He exhaled shakily and sunk back onto the bed.

Vincent set about making himself at home in his lavish, canopied four poster with tasseled pillows and a mountain of gold-embroidered comforters. He pulled them around himself into a plush nest, covering all but the top of his head, and tried to cuddle away the profound sense of trauma that was settling into his bones. After all that had passed in the previous days, he'd needed this so badly: to be somewhere warm and soft and bright and soon to be unconscious. He rubbed at his wrists, where the rope had pressed into them, and his puffy eyes, and curled in on himself to fall asleep.

He was being carried, as he had once been as a child.

He was being carried to bed in the middle of the day, and he didn’t trust the thing that was carrying him at all. It was a gory, demonic figure, which he might have recognized as his father by its face if it had a head. But it didn’t, and he recognized it instead by the way it sent his heart slamming into his ribcage, the way he struggled against its touch in instant panic.

Abruptly, it dropped him. Somehow, that was worse. Vividly, so vividly that it must be real, he felt himself slam into his bed and sat up screaming in his Versailles bedroom. He threw off the tangled covers, dashed to the door to be in the presence of someone human, anyone, just the guard who stood by his room at night – and the guard was headless, gore trailing over the collar of his suit.

“Oh - bordel de merde...oh mon dieu... [Oh – holy shit…oh my god…]” He backed away trembling beyond all control, terror hitting him over and over in waves as the thing turned its headless body towards him. He couldn’t tell if he was more afraid to keep looking at it, or to turn his back on it in order to run. Tripping over his feet, he tore his eyes away and sprinted down the staircase and into the grand entrance, past headless maids and headless Myrmidons and headless butlers who all reached slowly towards him, mindless and uncaring. Was there anyone in the house who wasn’t headless? In the whole world? Or was he completely alone in some hell dimension? No one could speak to him. No one could see him or listen to him. They could only hurt him if they got to him, and he was screaming, he realized. He was screaming so much and –

And someone else was screaming too.

In the depths of the palace, someone was near him, screaming in the same agonized fear. Someone else must have a head on their shoulders. No, for once, in the clutches of his worst dreams, he was not alone.

Vincent did not stop screaming, did not stop tearing through the halls, fighting to escape. But someone was there, and he felt a mysterious kinship with them. He did not know where this poor, pitiful friend had come from, or where to look for them, but they became his constant companion. For every French night and California day that followed, the screaming of a fellow sufferer would visit him again, and whenever it did, he immediately started searching, trying to reach them.

.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸. ཐི♡ཋྀ.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.*✧*.¸¸.

The Los Angeles night was sunless and cold and it suited LaCroix just fine. As much as he missed the sun, he feared it more. Besides, night was clear, it was silent. Free of distractions…that was, until Vincent arrived.

Beautiful terror of a creature, Marquis Vincent Bisset de Gramont. LaCroix caught himself repeating his name in his head and repeating his face behind his eyes. In the midst of long meetings or bent over his desk at midnight, he glanced out the window at the blackness as if he half expected to see Vincent on the sidewalk below. Where in the city was he at any given time? And why exactly did LaCroix care?

Vincent made him crazy, made him do the most absurd things. The ghoul obeyed him, but barely. He asked too many questions. He deviated from his assignments to talk to people he shouldn’t be bothering, to chase information and probably freedom. And worst of all, he seemed so heartbreakingly miserable. So LaCroix bought new suits, and strawberry cakes, and antique books of poetry, all for Vincent. All to try to appease him. He could never seem to do the thing that would bring Vincent to heel, couldn’t win his loyalty and it unsettled him greatly. He had never felt so protective over a ghoul or so challenged by one. Every day was a struggle for control, a playfight that was more than just play. It made him invested, it made him want to break Vincent’s mind like a cinnamon stick, and at some particularly baffling moments, it made him want to break himself. To give up and just wring his hands and plead, “Why won’t you listen to me? Why do you hate me? What am I doing wrong?”

He felt nerves building in his body twenty minutes before Vincent was due for his daily report each morning at 4 AM, anticipating another chance to win him over. If he didn’t know better, he would have called those nerves exhilaration. Even joy. But he did know better, because it always ended badly, with Vincent slipping through his fingers yet again.

So he would retreat to his chambers after Vincent had stormed off, left with a dull anxiety and the inexplicable wish that someone was in the room to watch over him. To chase away the feeling that he would be shot in his sleep and never wake up.

Yes, shot. That was the real fear, even though he ran a finger along the edges of the curtains before lying down to ensure they were still securely pinned. That was what he dreamed of – the Russian invasion, Waterloo. The bayonets, the muskets, the canons. The deafening explosions that had once ended his life. Even the dreaded fire of the sun, when he dreamed of that, was a kind of gunshot, a piercing gold blaze that tore a hole in the curtains and struck him through the heart in audible thunder. Bullets went everywhere, through everything. One day, they would find him.

How absurd it was, how irrational. He would never die that way. He couldn’t understand why his mind kept suggesting it.

But lately, something cut through the thunder. A scream, somewhere close to him. And even while he bled out, wailing hopelessly, he felt some consolation in the knowledge that there was a fellow sufferer near him and they were at least screaming out together. That he was not alone.

He was dreaming of the sun as a bullet when it happened. His chest was torn open, with fire catching at the edges of the hole, spreading and spreading, slowly consuming his body. He was screaming. And, as so often happened these days, he heard someone else screaming nearby. Oftentimes, this second scream guided him, giving him something to hold onto while he lay dying. But this time, it suddenly stopped.

His own crying got worse, much worse. Whoever they were, they were dead, or had left him. He was dying alone, burning from the inside out with the flames of the sun and the desperation to be held one more time. “No! Please don’t die, please don’t leave me, come back, please, please…” He gasped uncontrollably even though his lungs were gone by now, burned to ash -

“LaCroix.”

He scrambled back against the headboard. The lights were already on, casting Vincent in a stark, washed out white before his eyes could adjust. He realized too late that his chest was shuddering violently with gasps and his face was covered in tears. He couldn’t possibly hide what had just happened to him. “What-what the hell do you want? What are you doing here?”

Vincent stared at him in silence for a few beats, breathing almost as fast. Sebastian could hear his heartbeat flying. The man must have run to his room. “It was you.” He just about winced as he spoke, as if he regretted those words. “That is – what I mean is that you were screaming.”

LaCroix wiped at his face and arranged his body into a pose that didn’t involve being flat against the headboard in terror. “Don’t be stupid. Why would I be screaming?”

“Oh, come on.” Vincent’s eyes narrowed, thoroughly unwilling to entertain his act.

“No, I will not ‘come on.’ This is entirely untoward. If you don’t have anything intelligible to say, you will vacate my room. At once.” Don’t resist me this time, please, he thought frantically. He put all his effort into the command. Just get Vincent out. Pretend this never happened. He was still so damn rattled, all he wanted was to lie down and shake.

Vincent swore at him but turned on his heels. He was halfway to the door before the implication hit LaCroix. “Wait.”

He turned back, glaring now. “Do you want me out, or not?”

Now it was Sebastian’s turn to stare at Vincent in a mix of pity and wild anxiety, and to blurt out, “My god, it was you. I heard you. From all the way down the hall…you must have been in absolute horror.”

Vincent lifted his chin, although his lips had gone very tight. “Yes. At least I can admit it.”

“But why? What on Earth could…I mean, you’ve had a peaceful life, or at least I thought – “

Vincent just flinched away from his gaze.

“…Am I wrong about that?”

“No! No. I have nothing to complain about, I have no reason to be so...” He continued to stare at the floor, flushed and breathing too fast. In another moment, he blurted out, “Please don’t compel me. Not right now. Don’t make me say this.”

“I would not, Vincent. I won’t.” The look on his face was pulling something tender out of LaCroix that he had thought was long dead. “It’s not for…times like this.”

“…Thank you.” He shifted uncomfortably. “May I go?”

“If you…if you want to, yes.” God, why did everything have to be so awkward between them?

But Vincent stopped at the door, and tipped back his head, cursing quietly. “Damn it, this is going to bother me, you’ll be in here upset and it bothers me, you always bother me and I hate it, I hate hearing you, I hate looking at you, I hate feeling like a fire alarm is going off in my gut whenever you’re not perfectly pleased, and it’s MADDENING, and I HATE it, and we’re both stuck with it, so let’s just get this over with…” And he rushed back across the room and dove onto the bed and…and…

LaCroix had not been hugged in at least two hundred years.

Not by anyone. Not his sire. Not any of the ghouls he kept at a distance. Certainly not by any of his associates. And who else was in his life? No one.

It was warm, and tight around his middle, and full of Vincent’s tip-tap-tip-tap pulse and his silken softness and his porcelain cheek and his vivacious, passionate being. It made him feel like his ribcage was cracking in half and his lungs were all over the floor. It made his brain flicker out of all functionality. It made him fucking cry. Again. A lot. And he hadn’t done that in front of another person in almost as long.

Get the fuck off of me, he was trying to say, but it didn’t work for two reasons. Firstly, he couldn’t form coherent words of any kind. And secondly, he didn’t want that at all.

He didn’t manage to say a single word before Vincent ran out of the room.

The nightmare was the farthest thing from his mind as he stared at the ceiling, his face slack with shock, waiting for something to make sense. He clutched the blanket against himself, trying to fill the space where Vincent had been. What was this longing that had been reawakened, this vacancy? To be sure, there was no gaping hole or a sunbeam bullet at the center of his body. But still, he had been shot, that much was certain. He felt pierced by a warm, burning, human sort of light.

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[iolaussharpe-24]

Am I just a delusional shipper or does this feel like it should have been a thing?

Spoilers for Gargoyles (1972) ahead.

"Go on, your voice pleases me."

"'The sin was not my own, but forced upon me by the incubus; who overnight did slip into my bedchamber and taunt and seduce me with demon's promises until I was as if on fire. He was of uncommon height and finely built. A devil's face of frightful beauty that did put me in a spell. I had no will of my own, but did let the incubus do his will until I was driven mad.'"

Those are actual lines out of the movie. I didn't paraphrase. At all. I played the scene where she was reading out of the book, and typed every word she said. This is a movie about demons who "sometimes take human women" who are trying to conquer the world. Also, in this movie, the gargoyles with wings are the breeders. This one says as much. He was basically the leader. His reaction to being told that he's lost is literally, "Not as long as there are two winged breeders."

Also, the way the gargoyle acts when he first sees Diana just SCREAMS "shipping fuel". If this were written in the modern day, they would have done it. You can't convince me otherwise. You know why I say that?

BECAUSE THE 90s DID IT!!!

I don't care that these two stories have nothing to do with one another. This is a really good comparison. And, even if it wasn't, I have plenty of fuel for this fire. (I don't even need my usual go-to of vampire movies to prove this point.)

Diana and The Gargoyle fit into two categories that I love and frequently ship. Hero/Villain (though I guess this is more damsel/villain) and Human/Monster. I'm going to give examples from both categories that I will die shipping. (They overlap quite a bit, actually.)

Jareth the Goblin King x Sarah Williams

Katara x Prince Zuko

Rey x Kylo Ren/Ben Solo

Vlad Dracula x Mina Murray/Mina Harker

Erik x Christine Daaé

Batman/Bruce Wayne x Catwoman/Selina Kyle

Elisa Esposito x The Amphibian Man

Catherine Chandler x Vincent

So, with all that context in mind,

DOES THIS REALLY LOOK LIKE THAT MUCH OF A STRETCH?!?!

[draculasstrawhat]

I’ve said this before but one of my favourite bits about the Horror Kings trio of Lee, Cushing, and Price is that I had always assumed Cushing was a fey little man built upon the lines of Martin Short.

Peter Cushing was 5’ 11”.

Now, look. In the UK 5’ 11” isn’t abnormally tall, but it’s a bit below the 75th centile (UK) for male height. It’s taller than at least 70% of British men. My father is 5’ 11” and my family have this joke that while my dad is forever striding off ahead, you can at least always find him in a crowd, because he sticks up above pretty much everyone else in it. 5’ 11” is A Decent Height.

So why on Earth do I always think Cushing is just so tiny and petite?

And then I remember that Vincent Price and Christopher Lee were respectively 6’ 4” and 6’5”. He probably had one of the only frequent coworkers in British film at the time capable of making him look like a elfin and delicate creature.

[holidayslinger]

this started as me just working out some tommy headcanons/thoughts/whatever i'm having and sort of ended up being first time i love yous/tommy finding his family fic idk im on a role im obnoxious and im a terrible writer who is not proofreading or going back over anything i'm spewing from my fingers tonight so please just.....scrolls

the thing about tommy that hits so hard is just how much he longs for a family like you have to wonder if that's why he joined the army - he's my age, probably graduated right after 9/11 in the peak of patriotism and brotherhood and blah blah blah, after growing up with a father who clearly didn't show him love at best and was actually abusive at worst and we don't know anything about his mom but we can assume he just didn't have that family he needed but the army just brought him into a situation of war and homophobia and violence that he probably didn't expect because it's not the pretty lie that was sold and then he got of the arm and probably joined the academy - a lot like eddie, maybe he longed for the team-feeling that the army had or at least sold and maybe there was a part of him that felt like he would be able to finally settle into himself.

except he landed under vincent gerrard and every single defense mechanism in him just reverted - reverted back to the person he became under his dad, the person the military forced him to be under dont ask don't tell, because it was just easier (and boy he regrets it - he regrets it so much because that's not who it is and he wants to think it's not who he was but it doesn't matter does it because it's the person he showed himself to be and he's lucky hen or chim will even speak to him now). and then he slowly started to find a bit of a place under bobby but then that never quiet felt right either, did it? so he left there too and kept trying to find his place. hen was queer and chim was accepting and bobby wasn't homophobic, but he still never quite felt like they were his family - never really belonged.

and he thought he could maybe find that at harbor. lucy is great and they get along and they go out sometimes, like he did with the 118, and eventually he just stops hiding. he comes out and he thinks maybe this is when it happens, especially since it was a non-thing to the people at his house. he never shouted that he was gay from the rooftops or anything but he just stopped pretending and it was freeing but he still didn't find his family.

and the thing is, what this whole post started with, is that that's such a queer story isn't it? there's a reason so many queer people are drawn to found families. because a lot of times we find our people outside of our blood relationships. even when we have decent relationships with our families but especially when we don't. it resonates with us. and tommy is still looking for that even once he lands at harbor. they're friends and they're co-workers, but it's still nothing like the 118 has built.

and then he meets buck.

and, well, maybe he's starting to find a family in evan, but he's not quite sure how or where or if he fits because evan has this whole family with group chats and inside jokes and sure he gets along with eddie and that's such a huge step, to be let into the whole buckley-diaz family dynamic, but he still feels like he's on the outside, like he's looking for his own family and his own place. and he still isn't sure how much the 118 wants him around, even though he's kept up with chim through the years, and even maddie and chim have had him and evan over to dinner together. and it feels like it could be something, but he still doubts because how can he feel like he deserves something he's never been allowed to touch.

so one night when they get back to the loft and they're getting ready for bed his phone goes off at the same time as evan's and he quirks an eyebrow before looking to see that he's been added to a big group chat for the 118 and they're partners he just looks at evan questioningly.

"what?"

"did you do this?" he shows evan his phone.

"obviously not. did you see me do that?" Evan laughs and slips into bed. "It must have been Maddie or Chim. I keep telling you everyone likes you. Now plug in your phone and come to bed."

"it's just - "

"I know," Evan says, rolling to his side, reaching out to pull Tommy onto the bed. "You're so so jealous of this family or whatever. You realize you're part of it, right?"

"Not really. I'm just - "

"My boyfriend?" Evan slips his arm around Tommy's middle, sliding his hand inside Tommy's shirt. His fingers are cold, but Tommy can't bring himself to care. "My partner."

"Yeah."

"Yeah, exactly. You're my family, Tommy, so you're there's. Get used to it. They can be kind of annoying."

But Tommy doesn't think that's true because he's never had a family. He can't imagine being annoyed by it.

"Oh."

Evan laughs and it's almost a beautiful enough sound that he forgets what they were even talking about.

"Oh, he says." Evan presses close. "You are so lucky I fell in love with you a long time ago - " And that's another first that Tommy isn't sure he's ready to wrap his head around.

"You - "

"Yeah, yeah. Don't make a big deal of it, Kinard." Evan reaches up to turn the light off. Evan settles next to him and Tommy almost thinks he's asleep. He's not even sure if there's a point in saying it but -

"I love you too, Evan."

Evan hums a quiet sound, and Tommy knows that means he's heard, but he also thinks it might spook Tommy if he says anything else.

So, yeah, Tommy finds his family.