#gotta go watch something now

[xxplastic-cubexx]

so like do you think they made the plastic wheelchair ALONGSIDE the plastic prison as a Just In Case situation, only after they realized charles was going to be a frequent visitor, or both as in because they knew charles was going to be the only person visiting him during planning they decided to make him a chair ahead of time

[shokupanda]

me when time moves forward at a steady pace: how the fuck is it more than halfway through july already. this fuckers rapidly sprinting when im not looking huh

[evilfloralfoolery]

Love Bites: A Tale of Indulgent Preternatural Fuckery

I was going to wait until morning to post this, but fuck it. I make my own rules. Please enjoy some poncy ass fetish fuckery between 324 year old French vampire Lucian d'Alarie and his far more modern 82 year old, tattooed werewolf lover, Marrok Rafe.

Guess which one has "the thing."

*This story already has multiple parts that I may or not post. It depends on a few factors.

_____________________________

“Lucian?? Lucian!! Where are you hiding??”

Somewhere from the other side of the ridiculous estate, his beloved is bellowing in a manner that would wake the dead.  Or, in Lucian’s case, the undead. 

- I am not hiding.  You are simply blinded by whatever rage has a hold upon you. -

He bursts through the door.  The balcony door.  From outside of it.  Marrok never did appreciate the simplicity and ease a door offered.

“Get out of my head.”  Marrok’s voice is a flat growl, a rumble far too low to be human.  

Because he is not.  

“And how else would you hear me, hmm?  With all of your grandiose nonsense.  Mon dieu, Marrok.  I realize that we have no neighbors, but–” 

“What. Happened.”  Again, not a question.  A demand of sorts.  

Lucian does not grant him an answer at his impatient behest.  Instead, he takes a moment to appreciate the feral being before him.  Lean and well-muscled with shoulders even broader than his own, skin bronzed from the sun, and adorned with a myriad of tattoos, Marrok looks every bit the part of the apex predator that he truly is. The topmost portion of his rather absurd length of jagged jet black hair is pulled tight by some manner of elastic, revealing the tips of his pointed ears and the shaved sides of his head beneath.

There was a time when Lucian found such a thing appalling.  But it suited Marrok on many levels.

“I am not certain.”  Lucian sinks down into one of the wingback chairs near the now flung-open balcony doors, just beyond the reach of the sun’s rays.  “I feel . . . strange.  Like a mortal does when nursing the beginnings of an illness.”

Marrok folds his arms with a disgruntled frown, the permanent artwork that resides there flexing with the movement.  “That doesn’t happen to your kind or mine.”

“Not necessarily.  We do not know everything, you and I.  Perhaps–”

“No.” Marrok cuts him off.  “It’s not fucking possible.” 

Lucian pinches the bridge of his nose between two fingers with a wince.  Not only is his head pounding like a drum, but an incessant prickle also resides there.  The nuisance saw fit to surge to a burn at times, causing a far greater inconvenience, one that he rarely dealt with, unless too much sunlight were involved.

Which was not currently the issue at the moment.  However, that knowledge did little to placate the persistent tingling itch.  After several attempts at fending it off, Lucian resigns himself to his fate, tugging a handkerchief from the pocket of his trousers and making good use of it.

“HhhehISSSSHHIIU!” 

“ExcusehhhISSCH! ISSCHHuh!---hhhuuh . . . !  Hhhh . . .!”

Ungodly, wretched misery of a—

He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and exhales a slow, steadying breath.  “Très désolée.  I . . . have not the control to manage this.” 

“This is bullshit!”  Marrok looks as if he would rather cast himself in the confines of the fountain from the third story balcony than exist in this current shared space. “You can't be–” he gestures with an exasperated flurry of fingers “--that!”

Lucian arches an eyebrow. “Unwell?”

“Don’t.” Marrok tears away the band holding the layers of his thick hair with a snap of elastic.

Sprigs of haphazard darkness jut from his scalp in an almost comical defiance and Lucian morphs a laugh into a cough on purpose. 

“This isn't funny, Lucian.” The words are more of a growl, rumbling and full of an intent to intimidate. 

If anything actually served to intimidate Lucian. 

“And yet, here we are.” 

“No, there you are. We are not doing this.”

“You speak as if I had some choice in the matter.” 

Marrok is two centimeters from his person in half as many seconds. “You did this to yourself. I don't know how you did it, but you did.” 

Lucian rises to his feet with an almost bored aire. “Accusational hysteria does not suit you, mon cher.” 

Clawed fingers snatch at the lapels of his shirt. “Don't patronize me, you French fuck.” 

“Is that what you desire, then?” Lucian slides his hands to cup the snarling visage between his palms. “Some French fuck?”

He casts the other “man” a smirk that  promises seduction, but not without a staggering dosage of smug upper handedness.  And clearly, Marrok isn't entertaining anything of the sort. 

“Get off me.” He gives Lucian a rough, but far lighter shove than anticipated. 

The werewolf stalks over to the ornate bookcase, scans several titles, and swears when he realizes whatever he desires is near the topmost part of it.  Not that this hinders him in any way.  Marrok simply jumps, snatches his preferred literature from its resting place, and rebounds off of the wall to land effortlessly back onto his feet.

“Whatever are you doing?”

“Research,” Marrok grunts.  

He flops down into the chair formerly occupied by Lucian and begins leafing through the text while Lucian has a seat upon the bed.

“Marrok.” Lucian gestures with one hand. “Come to me.” 

The werewolf doesn't look up from his reading. “No.” 

“S’il vous plaît, mon cher.  I am so very cold.”

Marrok turns a page. “You're dead. Comes with the territory.” 

“Do you not think that I am incapable of feeling a draft simply because I am no longer mortal?” 

“That’s right,” Marrok says.  “And you know that shit.” 

Well. One had ways of changing that type of attitude, especially with the omnipresent twinge dwelling deep within his sinuses. The simple act of breathing would be enough. Not that one such as Lucian needed the trappings of this rather human inconvenience, but even the undead still functioned in a similar fashion, needed or not. 

He allows his breathing to slow, for his breath to hitch, and makes a show of fumbling for his handkerchief as his expression dissolves into abject helplessness.

“Hhh-hiiih. . .! HiihhISSSSHU–ISSSCH! . . . HhIKGSSCH-UUH!”

He buries his nose in the crumpled fabric, shoulders shuddering, unbound hair curtaining his face.

The book snaps closed. Footsteps that are more of a marching stomp approach. 

“You did that on purpose.” 

Judging by how much of that sentence is coated in the most inhuman of growls, Marrok is more than merely ruffled. He is infuriated beyond measure. 

“I assure you that I did n–”

Marrok is atop him, pinning him to the mattress. 

“You did.”  The werewolf snarls against his mouth and fangs graze his lips. “But I'm fresh out of fucks.” 

“Mmm, are you?” Lucian reaches between his legs with a most uncouth clenching of fingers around Marrok’s most sensitive attributes. “What a shame that would be.” He snatches handfuls of the thin, black cotton shirt Marrok is so fond of and jerks him against his chest hard enough to elicit a grunt from his lover. “Je veux te baiser.” 

“Hope you don't like these pants.” Marrok's nails slash the well-stitched fabric to indecent ribbons before Lucian can answer.

“Such violence in you.” Lucian flashes him a hint of his own fangs, different from that of a werewolf, but equally as lethal. “It is a quality I find most captivating.” 

The dark yellow of Marrok’s eyes is near amber. “Stop talking.”

__________________________________________________________

(TBC or no?)

[novadragoness]

A builder who totally understands where X is coming from, collecting all those shinies for Coco, because she also likes shiny things, and has been secretly leaving pretty rocks on Unsuur's porch for weeks now.

[tswwwit]

Quick question. What would happen if someone came up on one of dipper's old graves and decided to resurrect him during one of his reincarnations? Would his soul leave the current vessel and get sucked back into the old one, or would his corpse just be filled with a whole lotta nothing?

That's an excellent question!

My first impulse is to say that resurrecting Dipper's old body wouldn't have an effect. Whoever did it would end up with a zombie, or the shell of a body with nothing in it.

My second impulse is: What if Dipper did get sucked out of his current body, and popped right back into his old one? Now you've got one very confused Dipper, and one extremely distressed demon who just saw the love of his life get his soul sucked out, going limp and dead right in front of his eye!

Overall, I guess it depends on exactly what kind of resurrection was pulled off. A body alone type thing will get you no brain or soul to go with it, but if it specifically targeted the soul itself? Then you better have enough oomph behind it to yank it out of someone who's currently alive.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

reopening the ask box is like... just finishing vacuuming shed cat hair, and then immediately going and petting said cat vigorously & watching with delight as So Much Fur sheds right back onto the floor

[radioves]

its quite shrimple actually

[smalltimidbean]

One of those weeks with too many thoughts of things to do, but none of them happen

Well, at least not to the degree you want them to be happening

[getjingled]

I am barely 5 minutes into Joel’s and desert duo is already glued together and scar gave grian sand

[thebuttsmcgee]

Ive seen some people get mixed up (also sorry if this comes off pompous I swear I'm not I just really fuckin enjoy these movies ghggb) so I'd like to clarify that the Big Bad Wolf is an already established character in the Shrek world.

And he's just some guy. He also might transform into a human woman with a strong accent when there's a full moon according to a halloween special but ya know.

The wolf that chases Puss in Last Wish tho is, Death, straight up, as he said.

Some promotional media did advertise him as the double b wolf but that was just to not spoil the surprise. (Apparently some promos would also just call him The Wolf so yeup.)

However, it's also not unreasonable to mix up the 2 since in Shrek's ogreverse (ogre universe I NEED to coin the phrase c'mon now) there's been a few number of soft rebooted characters from a lot of Shrek media.

But to go off strictly from the movies, the 2 most obvious examples are Rumpelstiltskin and the 3 bears.

The left depictions are really just one-off jokes/background characters that rarely appeared in more than 5 scenes from previous movies (Shrek 3 and 1 respectively), while the right depictions are the later focused antagonists that got plenty of screen time (Shrek 4ever after and Puss in Boots 2 the Last Wish respectively).

The difference tho is that the original depictions are really Just one-off jokes. Nothing more than just something in the background. The Big Bad Wolf however is an already established part of Shrek's friend group alongside the 3 little pigs, Pinocchio and Gingy.

Basically, not someone they could just easily make a soft reboot about like with the aforementioned 2 examples.

It is incredibly likely tho that DreamWorks did base Death a bit off of the real life folklore of the Big Bad Wolf. Considering how much they love old tales, and how much old stories had him as the main antagonist. (Plus c'mon. Wolf from Bad Guys literally says he's the big bad in every story, they're definitely self aware at this point.)

Having the penultimate depiction of the end of life itself in their fairytale inspired long-running world be loosely based on the most popular antagonist from old folklore stories is most likely on purpose, and I gotta say, based.

It's also likely that Death can take whatever form he chooses. But I'm cool with gnarly wolf form. 👍

[bunnyb34r]

I wish my brain would let me play video games again without a care

Now I'm like "no I can't bc I'm wasting my precious free time. I can't reason using my day off to play video games when I could be using that time to do literally anything else" like fucking come on

[scaredysap]

tfw there are four entire villains in front of you but you only have eyes for your boy

[lexalovesbooks]

Finished the umbrella academy last night and while I’m not surprised to see that just about everyone hated it, honestly other than uhhhh one plotline it really went about how I expected lol

[genspiel]

...so, we know that decim got his job after the 15th floor was vacated by quin. but. was there a previous arbiter of viginti??? who were they and where tf are they now??? i'm-

[tswwwit]

Had a very funny thought in my head of bill successfully getting a cult started at some point between reincarnations just bc he’s bored. By coincidence dipper gets reincarnated into a kid who grows up in said cult and bein all culty n stuff. When it’s finally time for bill to pick up his human he’s low key annoyed that dippin dorks all culty. Problem is immediately fixed when dipper remembers everything and goes back to normal.

The experience becomes a very funny story at dinner parties where dipper cringes and bill thinks it was a wacky time. I imagine the cult gets broken up by dipper bc i want to give them a happy ending too.

Oh boy, poor, poor Bill. It's one thing for Dipper to pretend to be subservient - that's all fun and games, not real. But a version of Dipper where he's actually, sincerely, bowing and kneeling before Bill? That gets a full on 😬 Sure, he likes weird! This is certainly that!

But it's like. The flipped version of Dipper watching Bill cheerfully working at a soup kitchen, or tenderly nursing a baby bunny back to health or something. Not what he should be doing. Bad. Just so wrong. Man, he's gonna be glad when his feisty little guy gets his brains back

Also contains: One confused Dipper, whose 'god' is actually really... annoying?? And for some weird reason, it seems to make said 'god' happy when he finally gets fed up enough to be bitchy about it.

[1roentgen]

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