#this is my version of the unwanted guest

[alsointheoss]

Ianthe as Claude Frollo: Now this is more like it

Pal as Esmeralda: Okay Tridentarius. I put on the costume. Give me back my glasses

Cam as Phoebus

[circeyoru]

What if there's a side story of Collection Of Overlords where the hotel crew accidentally made Bambi, specifically from Unwanted Soul HAHAHA

Like, another of one Charlie's random activities that they wanted to know Alastor more, and they kept bugging him so Alastor just thought about telling them about his voodoo stuff

And the Charlie wanted him to show them, and Alastor hesitantly accepted, but then some like, loud crash or something interrupted Alastor's spell that made..

Our little Cursed Cat! Bambi!

HAHAHAH

Everyone was stunned, and Alastor literally panicked when he realized Bambi took a run towards Collector/Reader's room

Cat's are liquid, so Bambi slipped right under the crack of the door making Alastor have a heart attack 😭

But once Alastor slammed the door open and was about to protest, Collector/Reader had already picked up the cursed cat and is petting it

"MY LIEGE-"

"hmm? Oh Alastor, did you know about this adorable kitty? You two resemble alot"

3am thoughts.. THEYRE EATING ME UP

OH OH!!! Cursed Cat Alastor strikes again!! This series' first Cursed Cat Alastor appearance!!!

I'm pretty sure a lot of people already know Alastor's Reader's/your favourite Elite in your collection. Plus Alastor's actively keeping it only belonging to him. And what happens when Cursed Cat Alastor comes along? Well...

In this story, I don't think Alastor's willing to share his power without cause or a good reason, cause you play a role in his vast abilities, so he's not gonna show them off like that. He's trying to mimic your mysteriousness. So in this ask, (1) Alastor's not gonna join Charlie's activities when you're in the hotel, (2) Alastor won't let Charlie learn much of him as he believes you're the only one that should know -cause you own his soul so him too-, and (3) Alastor's not gonna entertain Charlie like that.

So how does Curse Cat Alastor appear?

Let's say, Alastor was performing his duties. He's testing some powers you lend him in order to reconstruct his room to what it was before (remember half of his room was a literal swamp? yeah, that) and then some new features to prove he can handle things. Then Charlie and Vaggie suddenly burst into his room unannounced and he messed up.

Poof! Cursed Cat Alastor is here!!

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!" Charlie tried apologizing so many times "We didn't knock cause it was urgent." Vaggie somewhat lied They didn't catch the red creature that run through them and out of Alastor's room Alastor sighed, a bit annoyed but kept his composure, "What is it that you need, Charlie?" Vaggie watched the cat run, "Huh, it's going to that guest's room. You know, that one that actually paid."

Remember how it was with Alastor and your powers combined? Yee, Cursed Cat Alastor is literally built to locate you. Not only that, but it shares the same affection Alastor would to you. So? Competition!

Alastor panics and immediately runs after it, he can't risk using his powers cause he didn't want to mess anything up.

Meanwhile, you're in the library, looking through a number of books that float around you. As usual, your eyes remained closed. You sat in a chair without anything near you apart from the floating opened books. Your concentration broken when you heard scratching sounds directly below you. You paused in your reading and leaned over to see what was making that noise.

"Hello, you."

You heard the static meow from the cat that weirdly resembles Alastor way too much. You weren't aware of any hell version of a cat being red or having that kind of smile, not to mention owning and wearing a mini monocle.

"Aren't you cute?"

You reached to pick it up slowly, to test and see if it would claw at you or express defense. If it was a cat, then they don't like to be touched too much. Truly reminds you of Alastor. You noticed it shaking a bit and turned it to the side to see its tail wagging happily and excitedly.

You carefully placed it on your lap, letting it make itself comfortable. It purred loudly with static effects when you started patting its head, then moving down its back. You hummed along and smiled. When you asked if it could understand you, it nodded and purred, its head nudging into your stomach.

"Any owner?"

It hissed loudly, but then its ears drooped down and bowed its head down as if apologizing for its rude actions.

Your smile widened, got to love its personality and the resemblance it had with Alastor. So... "Let's forget your old owner, now, you follow me."

It meowed loudly, sitting at attention as if sensing what you're about to do.

Your fingers snapped and a black collar appeared, "Let's name you Red, you're fur was the first thing I noticed, you see."

The collar was inscribed with the bolded and capitalized name 'RED' with a wave of your finger and placed around its neck. Red purred and hugged you in gratitude.

"My Liege!" The doors burst opened and in rushed Alastor who looked like he fought krakens barehanded. His eyes glared down at Red who was in your wonderful hold. "I apologize for troubling your reading time, but I'll be removing this... thing that has taken up your space."

"Oh, no need. This is my new pet, Red. Red, say hello to Alastor."

Red hissed at Alastor and leaned closer to you.

Alastor emitted deafening static at the creature with his head tilted to the side.

You smile, "Aww, you two are getting aloud already~"

The characters are from {Collection of Overlords} here, you can check it out in MASTERLIST for the works

[temis-de-leon]

Replaced MC AU/AU - Part 3

Characters: demon brothers, Diavolo, Barbatos, male! MC and crushing! male! NES (MC x NES)

How’s it gonna be , Intro – Part 0 , Part 1 , Part 2

Masterlist

You can read about this MC and this NES here!

CW: Solomon is mentioned, jealous and mean brothers, black cat x golden retriever behavior i think, one single kiss, a bit ambiguous at the end, not very angsty really, NES x MC centered

A/N: my favourite version of NES and MC by far, I enjoyed writing this a lot. However, my pc came out as homophobic and decided not to connect to any WiFi for this chapter, so I won't be able to update the links nor the masterlist until next week. Also, some people aren't properly tagged once again because I can't find their blogs for some reason?? So so sorry for that, but I don't know what to do about it.

.

NES was… someone they didn't expect. Unknowingly infuriating, always distracted and too unbothered to care about any of his surroundings. He was a disaster that enjoyed living in disaster and, if they weren't threatened by his presence, Satan and Belphegor would love his insolence.

Barbatos remembered an occasion, one moment from the second week of NES's attendance at RAD, where Lucifer gave him an earful for his ‘impropriety and insulting attitude towards the uniform’. Mammon had been there too, shirt out of his pants and jacket nowhere near closed, backing his brother up.

NES’s pristine appearance lasted only two periods before MC saw him chocking under his tie and laughed at him in sympathy. After that, he'd only wear the uniform ‘the Lucifer way’ if MC was there to eventually mess up the outfit.

And how could the eldest brother object to that?

“They need to loosen up, Lucifer”

MC always had the last word.

Solomon found the situation hilarious. Witnessing the brothers competing against each other in search of MC's attention was one thing, but adding NES to the equation? Yes, Barbatos had to somewhat agree. It was funny.

Who had been cooking for hours in the kitchen if not NES trying to make a quick snack for his fellow human? And who was the first one to leave the House of Lamentation each morning, already waiting next to MC’s seat by the time everyone else arrived?

Mammon called him a simp. Asmo liked to call them both the kettle and the pot.

And while, yes, Lucifer was the one and only Avatar of Pride, none of the brothers were able to admit just how big of a deal NES was becoming.

When would it be too late?

.

.

The Demon Prince's birthday arrived and the mandatory celebration was as grandiose as one could expect. Everything was bright and full of laughter, the streets cramped with food stalls, demons and witches alike throwing mesmerizing magic tricks for the children, acrobats, costumes, music…

At one point MC considered handcuffing himself to NES. Even Luke was easier to manage!

Fortunately, Beel ended up finding him playing darts with a succubus and her partners. Unfortunately, MC seemed to be the only one who wanted to check if he was okay.

It was becoming… draining.

Not NES, of course. Sure, he was a handful, but none of his mistakes were intentional. Everything he did came from naiveness and ignorance, being new to the Devildom, and what he lacked in common sense he made up in enthusiasm.

At least he didn't steal his valuables and he’d never threatened to kill him or eat his heart, something MC still thought about frequently. The worst thing NES ever did to him was throw them both to the ground when he tried to slide on the floor at full speed. And he still apologized for that from time to time.

Did the brothers ever apologize for all the things they did or said? The way they used to look at him? He couldn't remember.

Now they were doing the exact same thing to NES. Treating him like an unwanted guest instead of the roommate they insisted on having, turning down every single one of his ideas, including the good ones, and very passively threatening him in a condescending tone, as if they could impress MC with that.

Maybe it was a demon thing? Or rather regular jealousy brought to a dangerous level?

Whatever the reason, MC didn't waste any time sitting them in the living room and chewing the hell out of them, something that enraged Lucifer and put a strain in their relationship, still making it difficult to make small talk, but of course none of them would back down. The rest of the brothers weren't so obvious showing their annoyance, but it was still there.

The good thing was that, as long as MC was there, NES wouldn't be the receiving end of any bullshit. The bad thing was that MC didn't know what was going on behind his back. And NES, bless his soul, was never willing to tell him if any of them made him uncomfortable.

It was draining and NES gave him a sense of peace, but the brothers missed him and they wanted to monopolize his time, but MC wanted to spend time with his new friend and that made the brothers angry and jealous, which made MC anxious, which made NES worry.

Every factor made the situation worse. The brothers were too much, NES was too good for the Devildom and MC was too done with everything.

However, the time passed surprisingly fast as they sang Happy Birthday to Diavolo, eating in the midst of it all, dancing with each other and talking like they used to do before the ridiculous ordeal, albeit with a subtle tension that limited their topics of conversation.

They even ignored NES! Which was better than any other option!

So, once the voices toned down and the guests divided themselves into small groups, MC forced himself to whisk Diavolo away for a moment and have a serious talk, Barbatos following close and listening with a curious glance.

That proved to be nothing but a waste of time.

“It's too soon to take conclusions, MC. I'm sure the brothers just need time. After all, remember your first year here!”

He did remember. That's why he was so worried.

And why did Diavolo talk to him like that? He was 100% sure Lucifer insulted NES to no end anytime he had more than one horn of Demonus. What did they call NES in the privacy of their office? What did they think while they talked to him and faked respect? What were they plotting when they looked MC in the eyes and promised him they wouldn't threaten NES anymore?

Too many lies.

“Alo?”

But then… NES smiled so easily… Like none of that bothered him. Luckily, MC didn't mind caring in his behalf. He wondered if being able to save someone from the fate he had last year was the root of all his actions.

“You look so worried, you're gonna get all wrinkly! Not like you'd look bad, but if you're going to have wrinkles, won't you rather have them in your eyes? Like, from smiling too much, you know?”

He did smile then, imitating NES’s caring expression.

“There you are, handsome! You're gonna be the envy of all in 90 years!”

“Do you really think I'm going to live that much?”

“God, I hope so”

They laughed softly, but it still sounded too loud. MC looked out for the brothers, checking their positions in the ballroom before grabbing NES’s hand and dragging him to one of the balconies. He preferred not having the moment tarnished.

“Good idea! Too hot in there…"

“Don't lie to me”

“Wha…?”

MC stared at him quite sternly, although trying not to look to much like Lucifer, but he needed an answer.

“Do they still bother you? Do they threaten you? Do they ignore you? What do they do?”

“Whoa, whoa, MC. Here comes the frown again…”

He raised his hands, caressing MC’s frown until it softened. His touch was warm and soft and it made MC lean towards him, not wanting it to end. When he opened his eyes again, unknowingly closing them before, NES stayed in that position.

There was silence for a few seconds, interrupted only by the violins, the harps, the pianos and other instruments serenading them under the moonlight. NES could only stare at MC’s lips for a fragment of a second before someone grabbed the scruff of their necks with poorly hidden aggressiveness and brought them back to the ballroom.

MC raised his gaze in fury, bending down to help NES get up again. He expected to see red eyes and black feathers, but, to his surprise, what stared back at him were purple eyes and a long bovine tail.

He wanted to scream at him, to ask what the actual fuck was wrong with him. Would he had acted the same if it was one of his brothers instead of NES? Would he had such hate in his eyes?

But people were staring, very obviously amused at the sight of two humans being put back in place.

MC would have to wait.

.

.

“NES! What happened?!”

MC watched as the boy waved at him, hanging upside down where Mammon usually spent countless hours. His arms were tied behind his back and the rope covered his body in a way that surely left no room for the blood to circulate properly. His head already looked dangerously red and MC knew he couldn't leave him there for too long unless he wanted him to have permanent damage.

“I think I failed my last test, but I don't really remember”

“What do you mean you don't remember?”

“Well, I'm very dizzy right now, but I'm sure it's okay. Lucifer will get me out of here soon enough”

Or he won't.

MC sighed, cursing in silence before studying the thick ropes and the tight knots. He knew he wouldn't be able to untie him by hand and he wouldn't be surprised if the kitchen suddenly lacked knives, no doubt the result of Lucifer's pettiness and sadism.

“Wait for me here, okay? I have to get something to cut the ropes…”

“Wait, wait! MC!”

He turned around, patiently staring at his loopy smile and cloudy eyes. He couldn't wait for too long, but maybe he could indulge a couple of minutes.

“What?”

NES briefly looked away, his embarrassment gaining MC’s attention. Now that was a rare sight.

“Have you seen Spiderman?”

His heart stopped for a second and he felt his cheeks getting hot. His hand, previously grasping his hip, fell to his side and made him lose balance.

“You can say no, of course. We can forget about this and I won't get offended. A little sad maybe, but I can manage. I like you too much to stop liking you for a kiss. Does that sound weird? You get me, right?”

His rambling gave MC the opportunity to go down a couple of steps in the staircase and align his face in front of NES’s. The position was weird and staring at his chin was an experience he didn't know he would get the chance to live, but he didn't care.

It wasn't until he finally kissed him mid-sentence that he noticed a figure peeking around the corner, eyes staring without blinking and jealousy ready to made itself known.

Accepting the challenge, MC closed his eyes and grasped NES’s hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

Dinner that night would be fucking awkward.

.

.

.

Taglist: : @stfuchaase @k1-an @meggs-wonderland @kkeromenoo @va109 @marvelous-maniac @cruzerforce4256 @blarsh @marathedemonoverlord @junni-berry @arylleb @b-a-m-2006 @jonielunar @piercedddriver @cosmidaydreaming @bluegrey02 @anxious-chick

[racefortheironthrone]

The Unwanted Guest and Grand Lysis

As part of my ongoing obsession with a certain transcendental plural entity, I re-read "The Unwanted Guest" with an eye towards what was Palamedes thinking about Grand Lysis and the nature of spirit magic shortly before the transmutation.

While a lot of the discourse on TUG has focused on the permeability of the soul (for good reason), I found myself on this re-read focusing on a different bit of Sextus' Poirot reveal:

PALAMEDES It’s all so messy … so much messier than we ever imagined. I’ve been in Camilla’s body for months now, and I’ve started remembering things I never saw. This is the real truth of Lyctorhood, Ianthe—it’s not some bloodless swapping-out of batteries. It’s grafting; transplantation. When you absorbed Naberius Tern’s soul, you didn’t swallow a diamond. (emphasis mine)

When I initially wrote my essay about Grand Lysis and Paul, I had thought of the Sixth's version of the Eightfold Word as a megatheorem that was enacted in the very moment as we saw it in Nona. That's certainly how it appeared at the time, but this paragraph above strongly suggests that the process we see later with Paul on the Ninth was in a certain sense already underway throughout their time on New Rho.

This certainly explains why Palamedes was so confident in his psychic duel that he had out-thought Ianthe about something so core to her core area of expertise: the nature of the soul. Because contrary to Ianthe's arrogant presumption that only she had "eaten ice cream," Palamedes and Camilla had been experiencing transplantation-leading-to-lysis for months and had been thinking really hard about what it all meant about the soul and the nature of Lyctorhood.

Moreover, one of the things I absolutely love about TUG is the way it completely recontextualizes and makes us rethink one of my favorite passages from Nona:

They dashed toward the abandoned body of Ianthe Naberius—an abandoned body that was now propped up on its elbows, staring out with pale, distrustful eyes, an expression on its face of commingled hate and despair. “So there was another way, Sextus, after all,” the body murmured. The figure crouched down and extended their arm. “I know how hard it is for you to kick against the goad,” said the new person. “But there are more worlds than this. Come with us. We are the love that is perfected by death—but even death will be no more; death can also die. There’s still time, Ianthe. Time for you, and for Naberius Tern.” The abandoned body stared at what had once been Camilla’s hand, at what once had been Camilla’s face, then at the hand again. After which it said brightly— “I bet you say that to all the boys.”

As I said in my original essay, one of the things I originally thought was so funny about this sequence is the idea that Ianthe would ever have contemplated the idea of Grand Lysis with Babs. But now that we know what passed between Ianthe and Palamedes during their psychic duel, it explains exactly why Ianthe is consumed by "commingled hate and despair," because she's just had a core element of her worldview, her ambitions, and her sense of herself comprehensively debunked and sees the proof of it standing before her.

And it also throws in a different light Paul's offer to Ianthe, which is rendered far more sympathetic and compassionate than before. They’re not just trying to convert Ianthe to their way of thinking, they’re recognizing that lysis is actively happening to Ianthe regardless of her will. Unwantedly, the inviolability of Ianthe's personhood has been compromised because she never stopped to count the cost of ascension, and thus Ianthe Tridentarius no longer exists - she is Ianthe Naberius (not Tern) now. Better to fully embrace the comingling of "proteins and lipids and molecules" and become something new and whole, rather than poison yourself with resentment and denial for a myriad.

And thus the tragedy that Ianthe refuses Paul's good news.

[cassiopeiathe1st]

so as a biology major, here's some things i've been chewing on after reading the unwanted guest. this post is brought to you by the part of my brain that saw the 7th's hereditary blood cancer and thought ok but what KIND of cancer is that.

the phrasing of "permeability of the soul" makes me think of semipermeable membranes and diffusion. diffusion is a passive process -- our molecules, when left to their own devices, want to be everywhere because entropy, but the semipermeable membranes that make up cells organelles etc make life possible by keeping things organized. this dividing & filtering process is required to keep things in place. with me so far?

to me, this concept of permeability emphasizes that souls are objects with boundaries. there's a line somewhere, however blurry (clearly very very blurry) or porous, that divides self & other, and! and!! that line only exists because it is somehow constructed, maintained, enforced. see: ianthe working so hard to convince herself/pal/the hypothetical audience of this play she's putting on that she's just ianthe with no babs mixed in. or john's ritual of retelling his story to alecto/harrow in NTN. something something being the unreliable narrator of your own identity.

palamedes calls the process that merges him and camilla to give us paul grand lysis vs. the "petty", incomplete lysis of eightfold word lyctorhood. lysis = the disintegration of a cell by rupture of the cell wall or membrane. the boundaries of their souls are sliced open so their contents can be poured out & mixed together to make someone new. but even in conventional lyctorhood, there's some kind of exchange of whatever material makes up the soul between cavalier & necromancer. as our boy tells ianthe at the end of the unwanted guest,

This is the real truth of Lyctorhood, Ianthe--it's not some bloodless swapping-out of batteries. It's grafting; transplantation. When you absorbed Naberius Tern's soul, you didn't swallow a diamond. You swallowed a piece of meat...and the longer you digest that meat, the more its proteins and lipids and molecules mix in with yours, until you can't tell them apart anymore.

idk where i'm even going with all of this, i'm just rotating it in my head, but:

tamsyn muir is so precise with her necromancy jargon & anatomical terms that i feel like there's definitely meaning to be found in the imagery here. there is poetry in biology, the universe is made of stories not of atoms, etc etc

it turns out lysis is also the title of a dialogue of plato on "the true nature of loving friendship," so if any classics enjoyers have thoughts on that connection i would love to hear them!

if lyctorhood is transplantation, is it possible for that transplant to be rejected? can the graft refuse to take?

souls are contained within their edges not unlike how a cell membrane contains its cytoplasm. or how a capri sun pouch contains its juice. and lyctors slurp that shit up and digest it baby

why choose to link the soul so closely with water? (the river, bubbles, currents & waves in the river, nona saying the water of the river "doesn't want to touch us.") contents of souls = liquid in the same way that the river is a liquid??? the river = spirit version of the primordial soup???

dulcinea refers to the river having two shores, not just a generic "shore", so it sounds like they're different in some meaningful way. but that may be conditional on what happens in alecto ("if this ends well you'll find that out")? is the point of the river the river itself, or is the point of the river to separate those two places?

[sassy-cass-16]

trying to coherently write out my thoughts on monstrosity in the locked tomb unexpectedly led me down a rabbit hole where i've discovered that ianthe tridentarius is the most horrifically tragic literary version of a vampire in existence. more below

Ianthe is kind of a perfect vampire. She “fucking ate Babs” in order to ascend to Lyctorhood, which is a holy position in the setting of the series, but because the whole thing relies so heavily on dramatic irony, the reader is aware that Lyctorhood is a form of monstrosity in itself. while she is a Lyctor, her form becomes more monstrous (her golden skeleton arm), she becomes immortal and gains enhanced magical death-based powers from literally feeding off of a stolen soul.

And the vampires-as-consuming-horror feature blends with the series’ recurring idea that love is an act of consumption. The Unwanted Guest is a perfect microcosm of that: Ianthe is trying to convince Palamedes (and herself) that Naberius is truly and completely dead, when in reality, his soul and hers are permeable, and her act of eating his flesh—an act that her twin sister is jealous of despite the fact that Ianthe loves her too much to kill her—has, in biological fashion, made him an inseparable part of her. She has his memories. She has his opinions on duelling.

Just as meat gives the body protein, as blood continually nourishes the vampire, Naberius gave Ianthe part of himself that she will never be rid of. If Ianthe had consumed Coronabeth, she would have at least spent eternity with the person she loves most in the world. but in believing she outsmarted the system, she became its most unfortunate victim.

Corona is mortal. Corona will age and die and Ianthe will become more and more like Naberius, losing more and more of herself to him, and Corona will never know either of them as themselves again. can you imagine. can you imagine how wretched the Tridentarii must feel?

they've been a single unit since birth. their parents defied cultural naming conventions for the specific purpose of making them into a single unit. Ianthe looks like Corona's shadow and Corona looks like Ianthe if she wasn't vitamin D deficient. can you imagine the horror of watching a part of yourself slowly wither and eventually die because you loved her too much to eat her? can you imagine the horror of your own shadow becoming someone else's, so slowly that neither of you could notice until you couldn't recognize each other anymore?

Ianthe and Harrow have one thing in common and that is loving someone too much to consume them, and paying the price. Corona and Gideon have one thing in common and that is being desperate to be consumed by the person they love the most.

Ianthe is horrible and the Lyctors are horrible because John Gaius is horrible. but the series does such a good job of showcasing what is horrible to them. the horror of god is that he's just some fucking guy. the horror of ianthe is that she's a vampire who ate the wrong person. i am spiritually biting and gnawing on these books.

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Saved

Part 1 – Sihtric x reader

Authors note: while rewatching the Season 2 of TLK and going wild with exploring my newly acquired skill of taking and editing screenshots I became obsessed with the idea of writing my own version of how Sihtric met Uhtred. Please bear with me as I'm working on learning to concentrate on the essentials and leave out unnecessary details, but I also believe that small details can make the characters more vivid.

Summary: reader is Uhtred’s sister and a skilled healer. She travels with her brother’s men and after the unsuccessful attempt on Uhtred’s life gets curious about the young prisoner, the sole Dane from the group of assailants that is left alive.

Warnings: violence and mention of blood

Word Count: 1,129

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Sihtric found you sitting in your favourite spot near the lake, beneath the shade of the ancient oak tree whose sprawling branches provided protection from the scorching sun. He hesitated for a moment, gathering his courage, before taking a seat beside you. In your presence, he still retained an endearing shyness, as if uncertain of how to navigate the depths of his feelings. Sihtric stole glances in your direction, admiring your strength and beauty. His mind raced with the desire to strike up a conversation, but he couldn't find the right words. Finally, he mustered the courage to speak.

"I just wanted to thank you for saving me," Sihtric said, his expression serious as he turned to you.

"Saving you? What did I save you from?" you asked, puzzled.

"From feeling miserable, unwanted, and like I didn't belong anywhere," Sihtric replied, glancing into your eyes for a moment before lowering his gaze, his fingers fidgeting with the Thor's hammer amulet hanging around his neck. Nervousness radiated from him, mingled with a charming blend of insecurity and shyness that made a smile curl on your lips.

"You had every reason to hate me for attempting to kill your brother, but you never did. Instead you showed me kindness that I never truly deserved," Sihtric continued.

He had changed so much since the day you first met. You could still recall that evening as vividly as if it were yesterday, when Kjartan's men had tried to take Uhtred's life. They might have succeeded if not for Halig, who noticed the suspicious absence of the newly arrived Danes and urged the others to search for them. You had been on the verge of sleep after a long and busy day. Being a healer in a warrior's camp meant there was always an abundance of injuries to tend to, even without a battle. Men would hurt themselves during sword training, get kicked by horses, or foolishly engage in fights over trivial matters. Today, you had to fix a dislocated shoulder all because of an argument about the best whore at the White Goose tavern in Lundene. The shouts and clash of swords roused you from your slumber, causing you to hastily dress and rush out of your tent. Expecting yet another drunken brawl, you sought to find Uhtred and put an end to it. However, by the time you arrived, the fighting was already over. You approached the gathering of men, only to discover five lifeless Danes being dragged away from the lawn behind the stables.

"Uhtred!" you called out, fear lacing your voice as you saw him leaning against a stable pillar, breathing heavily. "Are you hurt?"

"All is fine. Don't worry, little sis. Unfortunately, I can't say the same for our Danish guests, but don't fret, they won't be needing your attention," Uhtred grinned, attempting to lighten the atmosphere as he noticed your concerned expression.

"Let me check on you," you insisted, pulling him closer to the torchlight so you could assess his injuries. At first glance, there were some bruises and a swollen eye, but no apparent serious damage. His movements lacked any signs of pain or hesitation, indicating that he likely didn't have any broken ribs. Still, you were reluctant to let him go, but Uhtred firmly took hold of your hands, kissing your palms, and with a determined voice, called out to the men dealing with the corpses behind you: "Secure the prisoner. I'll need answers from him later."

"I'm fine, sis. Truly, I am. Please don't worry," he reassured you, turning to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead. Apart from Ragnar, Uhtred's Danish brother, the two of you were all that remained of your family, and the bond between you had always been remarkably strong. You loved this proud, stubborn, and courageous young man, and he cared deeply for you.

Reluctantly, you turned your head to catch a glimpse of the young, bruised Dane, his hands awkwardly tied before him as Clapa dragged him away. The Dane was in a pitiful state, with fresh cuts and scrapes covering his arms, a split eyebrow, and a bleeding lip and nose. Anxiety radiated from his tense body. In a fleeting moment, his eyes met yours, and you detected a flicker of despair within them. It struck you how young and handsome he appeared, despite his current circumstances.

Uhtred's men returned to their respective fireplaces, the evening just beginning. You knew all too well that this minor incident wouldn't deter them from their usual activities of drinking, gambling, and arguing about the “best whores”, as they did almost every night. You had no desire to be part of that. Tomorrow, there would be more dislocated shoulders and broken fingers to tend to, and since Uhtred seemed fine you eagerly longed to return to your tent and go back to sleep.

As you made your way past an empty wagon, you noticed Clapa and Halig engaged in what seemed like an argument. Initially, you hesitated to involve yourself, suspecting it was another petty quarrel you didn't want to be dragged into. However, as you attempted to quietly pass by, your eyes caught sight of the silhouette seated by the wagon. It was the young prisoner, the sole Dane who had survived today's assault on Uhtred's life. His gaze, as he was being dragged away from the small battlefield by Clapa, his hands bound and his face smeared with blood, lingered in your memory. An unexplainable feeling stirred within you, prompting a change of heart, and you headed straight for Clapa and Halig.

“What are you two arguing about? Aren't you supposed to be guarding the prisoner?" you asked with frustration evident in your voice.

"We are, lady!" Clapa replied defensively. "Uhtred ordered us to decapitate the corpses, but Halig lacks the courage to do it."

“That's not true, lady!" Halig interjected hastily. "I just needed a drink first. You can't deny a man a drink, especially one who's tasked with severing heads from still-warm bodies. Besides, it's better to do it later when the blood has thickened. And there's no need for two men to guard a securely tied-up prisoner”

"Alright, enough quarrelling, lads. Halig, go and fetch your drink, and Clapa, get yourself an axe or do you plan on using your eating knife? I'll keep an eye on the prisoner," you ordered firmly. As Uhtred's sister and a skilled healer, you were accustomed to giving orders, and his men knew better than to argue with you. Both departed without hesitation, not bothering to question your decision, although it must have seemed peculiar to them that you wished to remain alone with the prisoner. Turning your gaze towards him, you approached cautiously, maintaining a safe distance just in case.

“Are you hurt?" you inquired, observing the Dane who sat beside the wagon, his back resting against the wheel. He raised his head, confusion, and distress evident in his eyes. He didn't respond just shook his head.

“Your lip and nose have been bleeding quite profusely. Wait here, I'll fetch my bag," you said with a chuckle. "How foolish of me, as if he had much choice in the matter," you thought to yourself while making your way to your tent to retrieve your medical supplies. You always kept a bag prepared, stocked with clean rags, salves, potions, and other necessities, ensuring you wouldn't waste time searching when urgently needed.

Returning with your bag and a piece of bread in hand, you offered it to the prisoner, but he made no move to accept. Leaning his head back against the wagon wheel, he closed his eyes. Shrugging your shoulders, you placed the bread back in your bag and instead took out some clean rags and a leather flask filled with water. The Dane opened his eyes, watching your every move. Kneeling before him, you dampened the rags and reached out your hand to cleanse his face. Startled, he instinctively flinched and jerked his head back, accidentally striking it against the wheel, eliciting a groan of pain.

"Hey, stay still. I only want to clean your face," you said, perplexed by his sudden reaction. His whole body tensed as you gently touched his forehead and continued to clean his bruised cheekbones.

"The brow will require stitches," you informed him.

“Why are you doing this?" the Dane spoke, his voice husky but soft. "I am a dead man. Why would you bother stitching my brow if your husband will later torture me for information and then kill me anyway.”

Tilting your head to the side, you continued to wipe away the blood from his face, now focusing on his busted lip and chin.

“I don't have a husband. I have a brother whom you sought to kill tonight," you said, finished with cleaning his face you observed his features intently. "And if there's one thing I know for certain about my brother, it's that he has never tortured anyone, nor will he ever," you couldn't help but think about how handsome this young man was and you felt a pang of sympathy for his unfortunate circumstances. He believed his fate was sealed and had resigned himself to it. His gaze remained fixed on the ground, as if he dared not meet your eyes.

“I didn't want to kill him. I just did not have much choice about it," the Dane's voice remained calm, resolute, and tinged with sincerity. "I only wish Lord Uhtred would grant me the honour of dying as a warrior, sword in hand. And I would willingly share everything I know with him.”

“Not that I fear the pain," he hastily added, "I simply owe no allegiance to Kjartan.”

Unexplainably, you found yourself believing this man. Every word he spoke carried weight, and you suddenly felt deeply sorry for him.

“You are very kind to me, lady," the Dane continued, his voice filled with a sense of shame for being here, for being a part of what had happened. "I don't deserve your attention, but I am immensely grateful for it."

"What's your name?" you found yourself asking, driven by an inexplicable curiosity. It was as if fate had brought this unfortunate young warrior across your path, and a growing resolve began to take shape within you. You did not want to let him to the fate he thought inevitable.

“I am called Sihtric, lady,” the Dane answered with no hesitation. “Would you like to live?" you suddenly asked, as a seemingly absurd idea took hold in your mind.

[crystalclearmist]

Just finished rereading Danny Phantom : "A glitch in time" and I'm absolutely vibrating in my seat about the new lore

Spoilers under the cut:

1. Vlad has continued his cloning experiments, even after Dani and her melted brothers :

This is also the only reason Dan Phantom is able to get a stable body at the end of the book.

Also, he designed almost functional clones with high science but really shitty technology skills. If he had help he probably would have succeeded ages ago (see point 5)

2. The staff that Clockwork always uses? Really f*ing important. It would be a tragedy if something happened to it

3. Ghosts are manifestations of human emotions

4. Tucker had a two day stint as the mayor of Amity Park and lost the job because he accidentally dropped a baby. He was also listed as married to Ember. Do with that as you will

5. When Tucker is in class he is so bored he keeps designing A - grade tech :

6. The Fentons RV, the Ghost Assault Vehicle, has 3 funny little buttons (big ghost, bigger ghost and unwanted guest)

It also has cup holders

7. Amity Park has its own version of Instagram called "Spectergram" and it has a livestreaming option

[lilacsolanum]

I am a huge fan of the Locked Tomb Trilogy/Series(???) and also have been narrating audiobooks for two years. Audio is so, so important for accessibility for reasons far beyond impaired vision, and I've always been sad the short stories aren't in audio. I made a fan version of The Unwanted Guest for people who prefer audio. My take on the characters is my own so don't expect a Moira Quirk impression, but my performance is definitely informed by hers.

(Note: There may be a glitch or two or some weirdness here. I used this project to experiment a new DAW on rather than something I was getting paid for, you get it, and there may be some uh-ohs from my journey. plz forgive me.)

[vbnhuet]

Before I start another writing project I couldn’t finish, I’m just gonna leave my idea so my head won’t explode. Weird Bowuigi AU idea time.

So we’ve seen Bowser being the “sugar daddy” in the relationship all the time, basically spoiling Luigi and give him all the fanciest rooms, clothes, food because he’s king and all that. But I feel like a role reversal would be entertaining to explore.

So I’m imagining like a regent/aristocrat/business??? AU. Bowser is born blue-blooded and rich but have no self restrain on spending money, while Mario started off as a commoner, but through hard work and being generally lucky in the real estate scheme got himself to the same social status as the other nobles. The two got into a years long rivalry trying to court the same lady (Peach), and bowser spent all his inherited money on crazy expenses and bad business decisions just to try and woo her.

At the end, Bowser obviously loses. Losing his lady and in massive debt, still he begrudgingly show up at Mario’s engagement party to save face and not look like a sore loser. He mingled with the guests, getting a bit tipsy, and then when he tried to pat on Mario’s back to congratulate him, a taller, thinner version of Mario with a different moustache to look back at him. The other guy told bowser that he’s Luigi, Mario’s twin brother, and Bowser just blinked in confusion. He was Mario’s rival for years, and now he just know that mario got a twin brother??? Where was this guy at the social meet ups?

At first bowser thought Luigi was just some nobody who leech off of Mario’s success, but Luigi just smiled and told him that “oh no, I’m the chairman of the business, actually”. bowser laughed it off because he thought luigi was joking

But Bowser went home and search up Luigi’s profile and… holy shit. Three mansions. Hotels and casinos. Multiple brand deals. And he owns like most of the estates in their region. No wonder why bowser was losing to Mario. He underestimated those two because they were born commoner, but turns out behind the scene, they were owning probably triple the amount bowser ever owned in his life. But while mario was having his face plastering all over the place, Luigi, the one who make all the important decisions in the family was trying to keep a low profile, cooping up in his personal mega-mansion on a private property somewhere because he was too shy and awkward.

So cue Bower, trying his hands at courting this insanely rich but socially awkward man, basically trying to leech off of his wealth and get that revenge on Mario. Luigi pretty much dwarfed bowser in everything when it comes to wealth (I could see Luigi coming over to bowser’s place and just turning his nose up and start commenting on how bowser is terrible at architectural design and stuff like that), so bowser have to use his “charisma”. Showing up on Luigi’s property unwanted with a grand piano, dumping love letters in front of his door, offering Luigi rides on his crumpling vintage cabriolet. Luigi promised Mario that he wouldn’t spit out a single coin for bowser… but somehow this is working.

[grimgummies]

Fun fact I had this theory that there were Spooky Month villains other than Bob who were based on the 7 deadly sins,,

Fun fact two this theory may have just been confirmed by the recent public Patreon post,,

I'll admit my theory wasn't this exactly but it's so close it's insane,,

And now that I'm thinking about it I'm connecting the dots and it's all coming together,,

So far I've come up with this: Moloch is wrath. No explanation needed. He's constantly depicted as angry and aggressive.

Dexter is lust. But not in the traditional sense. He has a lust for killing. It's a desire he cannot escape. Plus his last name is Erotoph (which is a shortened version of the word erotophonophilia, which is a term that refers to a person who gains pleasure/gratification from killing. With Dexter I don't believe his lust is sexual at all. Because remember, lust can refer to any form of intense desire)

I'm a bit iffy on this one, but I believe that Skidad, the Eyes, and maybe even the cult itself represents greed. The cult is constantly shown to have a desire to take everything. They represent greed in the most extreme sense. Also consider what Mr Clown said in the Newgrounds ending of Unwanted Guest: 'We will take all and get everything. Everything will give us more than is all'

And ofc we already know that Bob is gluttony. So I don't need to go on about that (but I think it's super interesting that his gluttony is represented in such an extreme sense. He's literally a cannibal.)

[noirs-pages]

Lucifer 1

Summary: This particular demon that Diavolo brought in interacted with you and Solomon very differently. So much attitude stuffed in that tiny feathered body of his.

(wow, you all really enjoyed that last one huh?)

Anytime you would enter a specific part of the house, particular the little room that Solomon swore he’d turn into his office one day but never bothered, there would be this pressure on your head. Nothing physical, it doesn’t weigh down in the same way with, say, a book upon your scalp, but more as though there’s a looming hand over your self, waiting to crush you down.

That, as you’ve come to know over the years, was the power behind a high demon’s stare that has rendered so many of your colleges numb with fear. A show of power that has permanently warped the perception of these little creatures that had forms that weren’t those common black blobs.

Honestly, to this day, you could never fully understand why such a stare had this much of an effect on the average person. It felt no different than dealing with a stoic mage who’s been in power for just a bit too long. You thought it was just simple exaggeration, but with what you were taught back in university, that was not the case.

You suppose this was just another privilege that comes with being favored by your little Diavolo.

“You’re not exactly the best at hiding,” you called out, lightly spinning the platter of food out of boredom, “you can come out of the bookshelf now. I know you’re hungry.”

Whenever you come face to face with this little feathered creature, you can tell he has no clue how to interact with you. You’ve bore witness to his glare when Diavolo first brought him here in this house, but that was only time he ever thinned his eyes so. You remember Diavolo widening his wings, just the slightest bit, and just like that, the black bird with peacock patterned feathers became complaint, in a way.

In a way, besides the horns, this demon reminded you of those beautiful sirens with their many vibrant feathers. Though, mostly, you have to say he looks like a corrupted version of those angel doves that have been rising in popularity. Though, compared to them, this poor critter was but a shadow. Whatever stress he was under before being brought here was apparent in his various bald spots and weak plumage.

You set the platter on and he still doesn’t look at you in the eyes. You stand before him as he settles himself on Solomon’s disused desk, eyes bouncing around your form rather than at it. He didn’t fear you, you would recognize that body language. Rather, it seems like this demon dove was trying to keep himself quiet in the way one would inside a temple.

This bird you have yet to name didn’t fear you, but he felt on the cusp of it.

“Oh, has he started eating yet?” And, of course, Solomon would pop his head in at an unfortunate time.

As though the food vanished out of existence, the little bird leveled a harsh glare to your roommate. His wings, shabby as they are, widened as though to flap him away, the peacock patterns in his feathers swirling in such a way that reminded you that, yes, this was in fact a demon. They reminded you of his own eyes.

Solomon, much like you, was unaffected by his hostility, though he didn’t cross into the room. Glad to see he’s keeping your advice in mind. One has to be delicate with these creatures that are full of distrust.

And, just so Solomon doesn’t try anything while you’re not looking, you push him back and closed the door.

You simply sighed. Solomon knows what he did wrong.

“You know…” he started.

You just hummed for him to continue.

“I have to say, this is my house and that little guest of yours makes me feel like I don’t belong here. He treats me like a bother, an unwanted vagabond, in my own home.”

“I mean, can you blame him?” you shrugged, “The first person he saw was me, so he probably thought this house was mine.”

“It just, such a shame,” Solomon shook his head, “First you steal Barbatos from me,”

“Buddy, I had no control over that one.” He’s never going to let that one go, huh?

“And now you have another powerful pet at your disposal with seemingly no effort at all. You have to understand my frustration with all this.”

You snorted. “I know and it’s funny for me.”

“Your cruelty knows no bounds, does it?”

“Hey, you’re the one that wants to keep me around.”

[snowywinterevenings]

I’m working on the last chapter of Scars on Our Hearts, so I thought I’d throw this on tumblr. I know I’ve posted it before, but tumblr’s search function is a disaster, and I can’t find it, so here it is again, a glimpse into one of the many worlds Obi-Wan stopped in before getting to the one in the story.

The ghost follows them for three days, and Obi-Wan waits for it to show itself, more curious than anything about the visitor to whom he feels a strange connection. Their shadow is filled with such infinite sadness that it makes something in Obi-Wan’s own chest ache, pain so sharp that he cannot even begin to fathom its cause. He does not hunt for the ghost, sensing no ill will from him, but the love and devotion he feels bent in Cody’s direction makes him a bit uneasy.

The intruder makes his move while Obi-Wan is away one night dealing with some absurd emergency. He ends the meeting with an abrupt resolution for the matter and speeds home, ready to tear their unwanted guest to pieces, but he is met with the most unlikely scene imaginable, his own double seated on the edge of the bed beside Cody who is sound asleep. There are differences between them, his counterpart’s hair cropped short along the sides and worn longer on top, his form a touch thinner as though he doesn’t always remember to eat, and a blade that is similar but not identical to Obi-Wan’s own, at his waist. The most obvious difference is his attire, more that of a Jedi than an emperor, though darker in color than the Jedi favor.

“A few moments more please.” It is strange to hear his voice from the lips of another, but he hums, granting the ghost his request, knowing deep in his soul that no version of him could harm his sleeping heart.

He would agree to nearly anything to soothe the ache he feels in the Force.

When the ghost eventually stands, he whispers, “sleep well, my heart,” and champagne gold eyes wet with grief finally meet his own. The words have been said before in a much different context, and Obi-Wan knows now what has caused such pain. He has a hundred questions, but he leads his counterpart into another room in silence and settles him into a chair, drawing a blanket around his shoulders. He doesn’t know whether it would have been a kindness or a cruelty to leave him watching over Cody while he disappeared to make tea, but some of the grief has ebbed away by the time he returns.

“Forgive me. It was not my intention to disturb your peace, but… you reminded me so very much of us.”

“What are you?”

“A traveler.” It is not a terribly satisfying answer, but Obi-Wan supposes it’s easier to admit than calling himself a broken ghost. “I move between realities. I have seen so many now, but this is the only one where I have encountered someone like me.”

“Someone fallen.” It does not surprise him to know that the Obi-Wans of other realms live more often in the light. Even he clings to it each night.

His other half nods, thumb tracing over the lip of his tea cup, clutching it tightly in his hands as though he is attempting to leech the warmth from it like he has not been warm in years. Perhaps he has not with his Cody lost to him somewhere along the way.

“How long ago?”

“Three years.” The end of the war then. A little shiver winds down his spine as he recalls their discovery of the chips. “He spared me from death at the hands of his brothers.”

“Did you burn your galaxy to ash?”

“It is not what he would have wanted.”

“I doubt he would have wanted this for you either.” He nearly offers their home as a place for the ghost to rest, but he has never been very good at sharing, and he does not think it would truly ease the pain. His haunted other half must find and make his own peace.

“Keep him close.”

“Always.”

The ghost leaves, vanishing into the night, and Obi-Wan takes up his vigil, watching over Cody as he sleeps. He joins him eventually, holding him close, and he hopes that someday the ghost can do the same, that he finds the lost love for whom he has been searching.

[bekaroth-reads]

Dracula x Human reader

[”But, Oscar!” I hear you say. “Which Dracula is it?” to which my answer is, any one you want it to be. Pick a version, swap it out partway through, trade them like Yugi-oh cards, throw an Alucard or two in there for the fun of it. Sort of a reader and a dracula insert. Also i proofread this fast, so there’s probably plenty of mistakes :P]

The night was waning on longer than you realized. You knew that Vlad said that he had something that he had to work on most of tonight, but the large clock in the corner just chimed three. You weren’t a creature of the night like he was, but when your partner was a vampire you learned to rearrange your schedule accordingly. That being said, even you had your limits, and seeing that it was only a few hours until sunrise you were about to make sure that there wasn’t something wrong. Though things hadn’t been that hectic lately, seeing as it was Count Dracula you were talking about, that status could change at the drop of a pin. As if he was reading your mind, he came walking into the room just as you were about to stand and look for him.

While you were a bit off about there maybe being an unwanted guest around, there still seemed to be something wrong in the way of his demeanor. Usually, he carried himself so confidently, nothing but sure on who he was and why he should be proud of that. But, tonight he simply looked exhausted; his usual stylish self replaced with a disheveled man that looked like he was about to topple over. He almost seemed like he was sleep walking when he entered the room, and didn’t notice you sitting in the chair by the fireplace, which was what let you know that there was certainly something wrong.

“Be glad that I’m not a hunter, Vlad.” You teased and he tensed. He quickly relaxed when he realized that it was just you. “Apologies, my love. Things have been stressful as of late.” Vlad sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose in an attempt to fight away an oncoming migraine. You stood and walked over to him. When you were closer you could see that he was starting to gain a few flecks and strands of white in his hair that you didn’t notice earlier in the dim firelight. Vlad sighed and leaned into your hand when you went to brush some of the snowy strands from his face. “When was the last time you’ve eaten?” You asked holding one of this mis-colored strands between your fingers so that he could see it as well.

“A few days past. I will be alright for another few before the need becomes urgent.” He tried to brush off your concern. That’s when you knew there was something truly wrong, as you knew that he was never one to turn down a meal, or especially the hunt that went with it unless there was something actively preventing him. This seemed to register on your face as he was giving you an answer before you even asked a question. “The people in the usual town are starting to suspect there’s something happening. And, I’ve not yet had the chance to travel to the next one over.”

He had gotten better over the years of actually practicing caution and evading attention rather than gaining it (which he rather did enjoy) and have to deal with the all of the hunters, or worse, the church. Not to mention that times and technologies were progressing at an alarming rate these days, so it was much more difficult to avoid being found than it was when he first started hunting. Regardless, it was foolish and borderline dangerous for him to wait this long without anything, and you both knew that. Animal blood would keep Vlad from totally keeling over and passing out, but it still didn’t give him what he really needed to thrive.

“You need something.” You said as you took one of his hands and placed a few soft kisses to each of his knuckles. He hummed in appreciation before turning your hand over and repaying the gesture. “I simply cannot. There is nowhere I can get blood at the present. I could not even get to the nearest town before sunrise.” He didn’t seem to be catching onto what you were offering. So, you lead him to sit on the nearby bed to make you able to match his height a bit better; from there you lead his head to rest against your shoulder, his face nestled into the crook of your neck. “Who said you had to go anywhere?” You whispered into his hair where you gave the top of his head a kiss.

Groaning in frustration, Vlad started to pull away, but was only able to will himself far enough away so that he wasn’t actually touching his lips to your neck; he remained close enough that his hair still brushed against you every time that he moved his head when temptation tried to pull him back to you. “No. I cannot do such a thing. Not to you.” Even the thought of doing such a thing drove him wild; actually acting upon it would probably make him feral. The scent of your blood ever so slightly wafting through your skin as it flowed through your veins was already the sweetest incense he could be blessed with; were he to actually taste it, there would be no guarantee that he wouldn��t lose himself entirely to it.

“Take it. Take me. Think of it as a gift.” You insisted as one of your hands weaved gently into the hair at the back of his head trying coax him back to you. “I… cannot…too decadent…” Vlad mumbled onto your neck, his lips now close enough to brush against your skin, his mind too clouded to form full sentences. “And, when has a count ever denied decadence?” You laughed as you scratched lightly at his scalp. Your laugh was cut short as your offer was taken and you felt teeth sink into your neck. A whine tore from your throat at the first sting of the bite. Sting turned to dull throbbing, and then melted into something else which wasn’t totally unpleasant. The lips sucking and soothing over the bite made you almost forget the pain altogether, and you wondered why you had never done this before. That was about the last thing you wondered as you started to feel lightheaded.

Once again that seeming connection that he had with you kicked in as he forced himself to pry away from you after one more kiss to the area that he had pierced with his fangs, sending one more soothing wave across it. Looking down at your loopy and slightly blissed out face, Vlad shook his head and chuckled a bit. “I thank you kindly for your gift, my love. But,” he place you properly on the bed and kissed your forehead, “don’t think this will happen often.”

“Why not?” You slurred almost as if you were drunk. “That would be one reason.” He huffed at his handiwork as he placed a hand to your neck. The concern on Vlad’s face softened when he felt your pulse going just fine. Not wanting to worry you in any way, although you were practically too out of it to even think to worry, he wore a gentle smile on his face. It wasn’t totally an act though. He couldn’t help it when he teased, “Another would be that you cannot eat sweets for every meal. It will spoil everything else.” Vlad placed one more kiss to your forehead and went to make sure that the thick curtains were tied shut for the coming dawn.

[speckledfiction]

This might be a huge reach, but having read the unwanted guest I find myself wondering if the whole perfect lyctorhood process is building up to be an ee cummings reference, specifically to I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart)

Thoughts under the read more

This is mostly just me noodling on the facts that there's a perfect lyctorhood where the two selves mingle and intersect but neither is obliterated, and on the idea in tug that it's impossible to consume a soul without being influenced by it.

Is there a version of the Gideon/harrow fusion where Gideon eats harrow's heart and they both literally and spiritually carry each other's hearts?

If that is what the series end up going for, does that mean that we can infer anything interesting about the series trajectory from the third verse of that poem?

The full text is:

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

                                                      i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

There are so many lines that feel like they echo lyctor stuff tbh I'm a bit insane about it.

I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) is basically just one flesh one end in more words!!

Anyway if (big if) this ends up being relevant, what do we think about the tree called life? I feel like it would be cool if it does end up being relevant, but I'm not sure I can see how

[yoonalgc]

( ❀ Hello, everyone! ...What a surprise, right? It's me again... attempting to bring a girl into this world. WIll I succeed? Let's see. It's Sera here to introduce to you my character! She is brand new so I'm expecting her to grow as I write her. I've listed some plots at the bottom but I prefer to do brainstorming. I'm open to plotting in either Tumblr IMs or over Discord, whichever you prefer. Without further ado, please read my rambling. ( I'll have a pinned I'll post later. ) Like this post ♡ and we can plot! )

◡ profile / plots / pinterest / playlist

BACKGROUND !!

Born october 4th, 2001. ( 1004, she asserts reflects her — it is an angel number after all )

Grew up in Gumi which is a smaller city just outside of Daegu.

Parents were high school sweethearts who waited to start a family until he finished his military service and she finished school. Mother was a flight attendant. Father is a former professional choreographer.

Family used to be fairly well off before the drastic change and her mother's medical bills became increasingly more expensive.

They eventually moved to Seoul in 2016 when her father got an opportunity to choreograph for an entertainment company.

Father gave up his career after his wife’s passing in 2019 to attend to a portable convenience stand by the Han River once owned by his own father. Their formerly close relationship grew estranged and tense rather quickly.

Used to be a competitive archer. Failed to make it on the national team multiple times, nevermind the Olympics. Became easily discouraged and decided to quit after an argument with her father. She even threatened to drop out of school unless she could join a company to focus on her dancing.

Before lgc, she joined an entertainment company while in high school only to get scammed into a trainee program and drained of almost all her money via their training debt scheme.

Waited until she graduated to audition for Legacy Entertainment. Somehow, she got in... and from there, she begins to change a bit as a person.

PERSONALITY & MORE !!

Works at an arcade/PC Bang for now. She likes to sneak in a nap in the dinosaur safari VR machine.

She uses the nerf gun and water gun from the prize table to ward off unwanted guests or customers who overstay their welcome. Careful, she has great aim.

Oddly good at fixing things ( to a certain extent ), a trait she picked up from her brother who has a penchant for inventing. Being practical helps quite a bit, though.

She is no stranger to putting on an act to get something for free. a convincing & skilled liar. she even stole someone’s phone once to sell but will never admit this. jokes about needing a glucose guardian but never say never.

Tendency to be flirtatious. offers compliments — sincere & underhanded.

Only actually been in one serious relationship that she considers was worthwhile & lacks the motivation to pursue anything else. Often finds herself leading people on but falls for people easily as she's rather susceptible to romantic gestures, then forces herself to lose interest when things get a little too spicy.

Good listener. Purveyor of gossip. Collects many rumors, rarely spills to anyone. Tell things to her at your own risk. She will hardly speak a word about her own background ( and will even lie sometimes ) but is content to know everything about everyone else.

Has a good sense of humor and able to laugh at herself.

Actually kinda lazy about everything unless it's dancing. She just likes to say she's just laid back.

Speaking of dancing, she is especially into the art of waacking/tutting/vogueing, as she finds the elegant precision to be appealing and especially fun to do.

Very opinionated & can come across judgmental for her willingness to speak her mind, Notorious for reacting with her face ( ie. side eyeing ).

An introvert. Also claims to really hate people but is naturally social despite this.

Often plays a vain character, usually an exaggerated version of herself ( channeling Goddess Gyuri & Mijoo ) — perhaps to compensate for or conceal… something. Part of it being that she enjoys entertaining people with her antics. It is not rare to catch a glimpse at her "real self" but it's hard to even say what that even is.

Calm but when she's memeing and being crazy, she becomes unhinged. Like so.

A bit fickle & indecisive, sometimes allowing her impulses to take control of a decision ... or out of pure spite.

Had a time where she was so desperate for money, that she was willing to lie to get freebies or sympathy discounts. But we don't talk about that time anymore. It was just a phase.

Not malicious by any means but it is easy to interpret her actions as such. She desires attention and love in this aftermath of her life plummeting, and just goes about it in a rather unconventional way.

Hates people who smoke. Her mother's lung cancer being the main cause. If you smoke any substance, prepare for to be side-eyed and judged.

Lastly, she is @lgcxnoeul's weirdo cousin.

CONNECTIONS ??

anyone who comes to the arcade/pc bang. she's almost always there. bonus points if you're a bit of a menace or you want to challenge her to a game. the possibilities with this one are pretty endless!

flirtationships a plenty. applicable to any gender; she certainly does not discriminate. she is the type to unabashedly flirt, compliment people, or make flirtatious jokes. ( however when the heat comes, she usually resorts to aloof behavior and runs away. )

obviously people will be put off by her antics so frenemies and antis alike are welcome! antagonistic or toxic relationships are welcome in general.

gossip friend. what is said between us stays between us ... of other people's rumors, of course. but it's best to be careful who to trust with secrets.

fake friends. speaks for itself. mutually beneficial, forced laughter, eye rolls when the other looks away. she's been entrenched in this fake friend group just for the laughs

an ex. she's only dated one person in a serious way before and it didn't turn out too well... or it ended amicably. who knows? was a rather innocent relationship but it broke her heart. happened shortly after she joined lgc in 2020 or overlapped. discussion is required!!!

that being said, she most likely had a couple flings here and there that lasted a short time. she's prone to running away or getting "bored".

jokingly, she always says she wants a "glucose guardian" and you are the perfect candidate. she constantly convinces you to buy things for her ( mostly bubble tea ) or you might even do so willingly. either way, it makes her happy.

she has a "dark past" ( not so distant... maybe 5 days ago is considered the past ) in which she tried to fleece people out of money just to get by. don't look at her if she might have pretended to fall in front of you for sympathy, too.

this is vague but... people she can assist with dancing in any way or their overall confidence.

people who know her real personality and are tired of her putting on this strange over confident persona.

went to high school together ( Hanlim gang )

for the lgcu event, she is in younggong. i'm still figuring out what she will be doing but i will need one person from there to do a thread with.