#unbothered vampire queen

[bluupxels]

first day of high school off to a great start

[flippinpancakes64]

Can I Request All Of The Cullen Family With A Reader Who Tosses And Turns In Their Sleep?

Btw I Love Your Fanfics So Much!

The Cullens with a Restless Sleeper

Sometimes I think you guys are inside of my house the way you guys send me the most specific asks

Also my requests are currently closed! You guys are so sweet, every time I open them back up I feel like I have to shut them again because I get so many!

And thank you for the kind words! I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He doesn't mind

I mean, he's the one who wants to be freaky and watch you sleep

The very least he could do is not judge your sleeping habits

He does his best to work around you

You decided to turn onto your side with one arm wedged underneath you and the other one flopped over his face?

Okay he'll stop breathing so that you don't get disturbed by his breath on your hand

You smack him every once in a while but it's not like it hurts him so he's okay

He'll ask you every morning if you slept well, and if you say yes and he can see that you're rested, then he doesn't press

But if you keep waking up super exhausted then he suggests asking Carlisle if maybe there's a medical reason as to why you move so much

Alice:

I've mentioned before that the only way she'd be able to stay with you the whole night would be if she had a tv on or a book or something

Again, she's not really one to be bothered

It's not like you can control it

You're literally asleep

She thinks it's funny more than anything

Whenever you sling your arm onto her and knock her book out of her hands, she can't help but giggle

She just sort of lets you do your own thing

She tends to just stay in her spot

If you move away, you move away

If you cuddle up next to her, then she'll cuddle back

Unbothered queen

Jasper:

He gets in his own head a bit in the beginning

He thinks that he's the one making you uncomfortable

That you're tossing and turning so much because he's too cold, too hard, etc

You have to tell him that you're just a restless sleeper and that it's not his fault

After that he relaxes a bit

But he still tries his best to make you comfortable

He moves with you the whole night

And he will nudge you a bit if he thinks that your new position looks a bit uncomfortable

Rosalie:

She doesn't like to lay down for hours at end

So chances are she wouldn't even notice that you're so restless

I think it would have to be one night where you asked her to cuddle (and of course she says yes) where she finally notices

She wakes you up instantly

She thinks you're having a nightmare

After you explain she apologizes

She gets a little frustrated

Vampires have no need to be comfortable, but they can still feel comfort

The whole night, she feels like she finds a nice position and then you move

But she doesn't leave

You asked her to stay for the whole night so she stays

Emmett:

He's squirmy too

Two bugs who are very snug in your rug, only both of you move way too much

So y'all balance each other out

It works out kinda well for him

If you were a really light sleeper who never moved, then he would be waking you up all night

But since you already move so much, his tossing and turning doesn't really affect you

A perfect pair of rotisserie chickens

Esme:

She gets a little worried

She thinks you're having chronic nightmares at first

And then she's even more concerned when you wake up and she asks you about them but you say you don't remember having any nightmares

She asks Carlisle to check you out

Obv there's nothing wrong

So she just keeps an eye on you

She really enjoys cuddling, so it's a bit annoying when you squirm away and turn onto your back

And then again when you launch your leg over her stomach and turn yourself until your head's off the bed

She just resets you to a normal position and the cycle continues

Carlisle:

He doesn't mind

Again, the only time he would really care would be if it seems to be affecting your sleep health

But if you wake up energized and refreshed, then he can't complain

He's another cuddler

But since you're so active, he also has a book

He cuddles when you're in the position to do so, and then he reads whenever you squirm onto the other side of the bed

He has no need to be comfortable, so he just moves wherever you need him to

You're trying to roll onto his side of the bed?

Okay yeah just let him get up real quick and go to your side

He's a king sorry my bias is showing

Vampire! Bella:

She's another nighttime cuddler

It helps her feel a little human again

So she does get a little frustrated when you keep interrupting her zen with your movements

Like she wants to cuddle damnit why are you halfway across the bed with your leg dangling off?

She is not afraid to drag you back

Or to hold you in place with her iron grip

Sorry you're trapped

Good luck moving now ;)

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep8 Musings - LDPDL: Burning Questions

I was reading this Variety article, and they mentioned something that made me think of fan critiques of Louis' opaque motivations in the finale, and the fun laughs we've shared over how he's so unbothered by vamp nonsense that he never seems to ask important questions.

I'm drafting a separate post specifically about "Vampire Grace," but I wanted to focus here on only one point in particular:

PAUL.

We always talk about whether Louis chose Lestat over Claudia; "you take him with you, in HERE!" But I haven't seen talk about how Louis chose Lestat over Paul, and how that factors into Lou's habit of not asking HELLA important questions that could've saved Loustat DECADES of resentment.

Paul's suicide "opened the series," setting this whole thing in motion. Florence blames Louis for his death, making Lou feel like a failure.

--the first time we see Louis outright say to someone's face "I love you," it's mere seconds b4 Paul jumps off a roof. (The only other person we see him say it to is Armand, right after saying they're not companions. 💀)

Paul's memory is wrapped up in Louis' love of Lestat, cuz until Les showed up, Paul had been Lou's one and only companion--the sole person he could TALK to. As a closeted gay man, Lou was desperate for MALE companionship: understanding, acceptance & love.

Sure, he had Grace & Lily (& later Claudia)--all WOMEN--but:

his daddy's dead, and who knows what their deal was, but it couldn't be worse than effing Florence. So there's a lingering want of a father-figure; someone older/wiser who could teach & guide Lou when he was feeling "lost...in a dark way" (*cough* Armand *cough*)

a father or brother is still not the companion Louis REALLY wants/needs, so ofc there's things Lou can't tell Paul, or have with him. Les's an upgraded Paul-- a HUSBAND, not a SIBLING (*cough* Claudia *cough*).

(deep down) Lou was jealous of how candid & honest Paul was; regardless that Paul's lack of a filter was a side effect of his mental illness & religious fanaticism (cuz vampirism's an allegory for sexuality--and even in gay mecca Paris & SanFran Lou was still tryna "find himself" as the Zodiac Killer *cough Daniel *cough*)

Paul's dying wish was for Loustat to never be together

and Lou felt he'd betrayed Paul; that he'd lied/hadn't kept his word

folding like a leaf rather than saying NO, or killing himself like he'd implied (suicide by vampire instead of cane-sword/alcohol poisoning)

(and Queen Claudia called Lestat the "Father of Lies" (aka The Devil), and she ain't never lie a day in her life, either)

So the Catholic guilt was extra strong, cuz Saint Paul was right about Les; but Lou chose Les anyway--in the church, on the altar--after Paul died trusting that Lou WOULDN'T take him back.

Instead, we get this boatload of excuses from Louis about the "vampire bond," when the only bond that matters is LOVE. But this is the crux of Louis' personality/problems, and why the interview took so long for him to attempt either the 1st or 2nd time around. Cuz Louis is a hypocritical coward stuffed to gills with self-loathing & GUILT. He runs away from the truth, he runs away from his issues, and he hides from himself and everyone around him.

So OF COURSE Louis doesn't ask important questions. It's not that he doesn't care--it's that HE'S SCARED of asking, and terrified of what the answer is. So it takes him forever to even BEGIN addressing the elephants in the room.

Louis ALWAYS suspected. But he was:

Scared of the answer/truth

Scared that Les would LIE

Scared he'd forgive Les regardless

Paul died in 1911. It had been 26 YEARS until Lou finally piped up in 1937 (the end of Les's Grovel Era). But this was the PERFECT chance to call Les' bluff & get some honest answers out of him for once, cuz:

If Les (unapologetically) caused Paul's death, he can just stay gone

It's in Les' best interest to tell the truth regardless, cuz he's been desperately tryna get back in Lou's (& Claudia's) good graces for 6 years, and being sincere will earn him more cookies (he'd also be banking on Lou forgiving him regardless, cuz he's been missing Les so bad, even after being beat into the next decade & dropped a billion miles in the air)

If Les IS lying, how would they even frikkin know if they can't read his mind? Lou just wants to see what Les will say

(In 2x6 he waited to ask Madeleine if she only saw Claudia as a replacement for her dead sister--a question he should've asked BEFORE he Turned her, but... 🤷 Moot.)

So in the finale, there's 2 painful truths Lou has to contend with:

WHY is he doing the 2nd interview?

WHO saved him during the Trial?

It takes Louis 77 YEARS to reclaim the "pieces of myself" he'd lost/forgotten. He ALWAYS knew things weren't adding up with Armand. He KNEW there were things missing. Even in SanFran, BEFORE the mind-wipe, he was already losing his mind/memories--PTSD from all the awful things he'd been through.

Even book!Louis knew about Claudia's diaries for a decade b4 he finally got the courage to ask the Talamasca if he could read them & speak to her ghost.

Although Lou's naive AF, he's not an idiot--he HAD A HUNCH that Armand knew more than he was letting on, which is precisely why he kept ignoring Armand every time he asked to stop the interview.

However, for once, Lou actually wastes VERY little time with this one:

As soon as he learns the truth about "Banishment," he divorces Armand, and runs back to NOLA to find Lestat. Memory is a monster Lou'd been running scared from all this time. He's tired of running away, wasting so much time, wasting the gift, when he could be actively tryna solve his problems to make life bearable/better. The hellish prison he'd lived in was by his own design--only he could chose to stand up, take control of his life; and finally ask the burning questions. "Truth and reconciliation."

Lou could finally make peace with the memory of the two people he'd been avoiding for so long; whom he felt he'd let down the most:

For once Lou chooses to be "companion enough for myself," and live with/for himself, not relying other people to save/fix/determine his life for him anymore. That's really the only way he'll be able to be with Les in a healthier, guilt-free relationship in the future.

[clickerflight]

Clove: Part 27 - Alliance

Sup! Another one! This is another thing that has popped out from nowhere, but enjoy the lore that I myself learned about my own story today.

Masterlist - Part 26

Content: Fae whumpers, mentioned non consensual touching, pretty chill this time

....................................................

Ephraim was so incredibly grateful to see the palace appear from out of the fog. He’d found the body, confirmed with the Queen that Jack did kill the fae after he’d smelled the sorcerer all over the bloody remains, and now just barely kept within the procession as they made their way to the palace. 

He wanted to check on Hyrum and ensure he was safe. He wanted to take a long shower and wash out the images of the faes’ possessive hands on his fledgling. He had not seen Benny emerge from the queen’s carriage and doubted she would be letting him out and about any time soon.

He would need to come up with a plan quickly to get Benny away from this place. 

As soon as the procession entered the palace, Ephraim quietly broke away, rushing down the halls and finding his way into the more refined sections to get back to his room, cape fluttering behind him as he ran. 

He reached his rooms and his heart sank when he saw the door partially open. He flung it the rest of the way. 

“Hyrum!” he called, looking around. The cushions on the couch were a little askew, a glass of juice or weird milk spilled across the floor and the scent of fae told Ephraim that his night was not going to be improving anytime soon. 

He snarled, turning for a moment, searching for every detail needed to find Hyrum. 

He could smell a snake. 

Ephraim ran back out into the halls, following the trails as it led to the big ballroom breakfast had taken place in, only to lose the scent as it mixed with that of other fae. 

Ephraim’s instincts were on high alert, rumbles and chuffs escaping from his chest, calling for his child to come back to him as he entered the ball room, looking around desperately for any snake-like fae. 

He pushed past a group, searching fervently for any sign of Hyrum. His heart jumped in his throat when he saw fluffy golden hair, but realized quickly it was a charmed human pet on the arm of a jaguar fae. 

Was Hyrum in a state like that? Was he being paraded around? Was he hurt!?

Ephraim was beginning to spiral when a hand came down on his shoulder gently. “Vampire, what is-”

“Where is he!?” Ephraim snarled, rounding on Kortops and shaking off the gossamer fae’s hand. 

Kortops gave him a look of surprise. “Who? Your pet?”

“My son! He was supposed to be safe! He’s a guest!”

Kortops frowned. “Well, you are certainly a guest, but it could be argued that he isn’t. Now that I think of it, the only protection that you could have afforded him would be calling him your property or your pet, which you clearly refuse to do. He was not in your rooms?”

Ephraim had to swallow down the urge to tear Kortops’s eyes from his head. “No. He wasn’t. I smelled a snake.”

“A snake hmm?” Kortops asked, clearly unbothered by Ephraim’s rage as he fluttered his wings. “Well, that could be Shallumn. He wasn’t in the procession but he is certainly bold enough. I will help you get your pup back, and if you will take my advice, Vampire, I would suggest publicly claiming the child as your property. The queen will not think to give him Guest protection as she thinks, like the rest of us, that he is your pet.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“As nightshade, Vampire. Come. We will find Shallumn.”

Kortops turned quickly, scanning the room before leaving the hall, forcing Ephraim to keep up with him. 

“I can’t believe this,” Ephraim hissed. He had only been here for about a day and a half, but it already felt like years. How in the world was he supposed to survive the next couple of days and get Hyrum and Benny out of this alive?

“You are in a precarious position,” Kortops commented in return, leading the way down halls that Ephraim had not been to yet. 

“What do you care?”

Kortops slowed, letting Ephraim come to his side. He slowed his walk till they stood in a quiet alcove. He searched for words for a moment before he said, “When humans come here, they are alone. You were not. When humans preach about going home, it doesn’t really phase us. We do not properly understand the concept of family, you see. But you came here with the pup, and you do not treat him as a pet and you fight for him. You have been nothing but protective to him, and you have been protective of Benjamin on top of that. It is strange and it intrigues me. That is why I care. This I tell you, under the rules of the Host and Guest, is true.”

Ephraim searched the fae’s face, and only saw sincerity there. Was this a trick? He went over the wording again in his mind and asked, “Is it the only reason you care?”

Kortops smiled, looking almost proud. “Of course not. I am fae. I care about rising in the court and there may be an outcome here that can get me a leg up. But you do intrigue me, and your bond with your pup intrigues me more, so that is the bigger part of the reason.”

“So you will help me and ask for nothing in return?”

“Perhaps something…. But I will explain it later. There is not time now. But it should not harm you.”

“And can you be trusted not to betray me?” Ephraim said darkly. “Can you be trusted to allow Benny to go with me?”

“I will only leave you if you do something that will put me in unreasonable danger if I side with you. And you can have Benny. It has been too long that we have had a vampire as the Queen’s husband and it is causing structural issues that she finds funny.”

Ephraim nodded. “Then I suppose this is an alliance.”

“That it is. We should hurry. I do not trust Shallumn with your pup.”

They found Shallumn coming out of his rooms, long and sinewy and dangerous, and Ephraim was gratified to see Kortops throw him against the wall and pin him there. 

“You have something that isn’t yours,” Kortops said in a sing songy voice. 

Shallumn’s eyes went wide, looking between Kortops and Ephraim, who was approaching with the grace of an angered predator. 

A lazy grin came to his face. “Oh, no. I was keeping an eye on him, sure, but Halia has him.”

“Halia?” Kortops asked, surprised. “What does she want with him?”

“Arm candy, I would assume,” Shallumn purred, but he yelped as Kortops grabbed him by the throat. 

“Liar,” Kortops hissed. 

“She took him from me, I swear!” he said quickly, realizing that he wouldn’t be able to pass off the blame and get Halia in trouble. 

Kortops dropped Shallumn. “Come, Vampire.”

Ephraim paused to kick Shallumn in the ribs, watching him curl in on himself with a whimper before following. 

Kortops slowed again to let Ephraim catch up and said, “Your pup might be safe after all. Halia is eager, but she’s gentler than most fae I know. Let us just hope she doesn’t want anything in return for you pup, but she is much easier to negotiate with than Shallumn.”

“Halia? The name is familiar.”

“She is the fae who spoke out at breakfast and got wilted by the queen.”

“Ah, yes…… Kortops, speaking of names, why do you call me Vampire?” Ephraim was curious now, more than annoyed. 

“It is respectful, no? I am not trying to take your name this way.”

Ephraim was surprised. “Thank you, then. That is courteous of you.”

“Of course. We are allied for the time being… Vampire, we have time to speak of my payment in return for my help as we walk.”

“What?”

Kortops looked vaguely uncomfortable as he said, “The fae have not found any good places to grow our changelings in a long time now. The humans have gotten very good at discovering them and as such we have no children. Fae don’t die easily, but we still do die and we have not had any successful changelings in a century now. They need human love to grow and…. The others are not as concerned as they should be, distracted as they are. I would ask that your village take in my changeling if I help you get home safe with your pup and fledgling intact. I will not take any humans in return as the need is dire. I do apologize for not being outright with it. The fae nature is…. Difficult to overcome.”

Ephraim was surprised. This was incredibly sensitive information. He understood that completely. It also explained why they had been so violent 50 years ago trying to put their changelings in the village. And the interest in Ephraim’s own relationship with his children made sense now, too. 

“Do you want to visit your changeling when they are placed?”

Kortops startled with surprise, looking at Ephraim and then to the floor. “I think…. Yes. I do. I would not be able to rest well knowing my changeling very well may die among a different species because I was trying to do it the traditional way.”

Ephraim nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. I can’t promise anything… But I will try my very best.”

“What are the odds they will allow it?”

Ephraim thought for a moment, a couple of childless couples who were desperately trying coming to mind. “Pretty good, I think. It depends on if the older members of the community will allow it, but I think I will be able to argue your case.”

Kortops nodded, relieved. “Thank you, vampire.”

“That is only if you can help us escape.”

“Of course. I ask a high price, and I will fulfill all that you need from me. I swear it on my name.”

“Good enough, then.” Still. Ephraim would need to be careful.

Part 28

Clove Taglist: @wolfeyedwitch @the-blind-one-speaks @whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @inkkswhumpandstuff 

@honeycollectswhump @whump-blog-reblogs @pigeonwhumps @mj-or-say10 @percy-frayer 

@currentlyinthesprial @scoundrelwithboba @whumps-and-bumps @hellodecisionparalysis

[sarabwawahm]

"The longer you live, the more you forget."

Summary: Marceline is still haunted by glimpses of her past.

Time heals. An undeniable truth, despite her wanting to scream and holler about it being wrong. They still hurted, all those discarded scars of heartbreak, but they were scars nevertheless.

Time certainly heals, and Marceline had all the eternity.

The tales of her long, long life distracted her, and she went on endless adventures just to keep it this way. She discovered new people in a new world, became so invested in it that sometimes she even wondered if her past was real, if it wasn't a prolonged dream she had while sleeping in Tree Trunks' field, if her life hadn't always been a happy mingle of fun and occasional reminiscence. She had no proof, after all, that it indeed happened. Her supposed Simon, the formerly genius scientist, had became a madman. She lost Hambo due to her bastard of a boyfriend..and her..

No. She was no illusion. Her voice would come to her in daydreams and nightmares. It was a memory, a memory she cherished and forever will. The loving voice would utter a sweet Linlin and the mighty Vampire Queen would gasp in pain. She no longer denied her loss, nor was she always mourning, but she had yet to accept. She very likely wouldn't. Not when her name was in the back of her throat, ready to call for her younger-big sister whenever something was too much to handle. Not when ocean eyes would stare back into her own in the soft blue flames of her stove before they turned red. Not when her ghost phantomed her thoughts if she lets them wander, omnipresent in the back of her mind and constantly prepared to resurface.

Marceline walked down the nighty beach, unbothered by the loud cries of the waves as she dragged her toes in the sand. For such a nocturnal hour, the place was pretty lively, a strangely familiar crowd formed to celebrate as if conflicts never existed. In contrast, Marceline felt a gloom growing within her, as if she slowly approached a cursed fate by her aimless stroll. She didn't bother, her emotions taking the little reason she had left and letting her feet lead her to a wooden house planted far away from the commotion. She frowned slightly, feeling a sudden urge to enter it. Never one to hesitate, she did, stepping in and forcing her eyes to get used to this random, complete, change of scenery. She wasn't surprised. This was Ooo, anyway, a land of abnormalities.

What shocked her, though, was the odd nostalgic feeling this space gave her.

A foggy weather. Fallen buildings. Eerily empty streets. A post-apocalyptic air.

Infantile giggles, and three figures could be distinguished amongst the chaos.

-"Sing it, Tricy! One more time!", the black haired little girl spoke.

-"Oh, Linlin, don't you think we sang it plenty of times?"

Marceline's breath hitched, and she instinctively inched closer to the trio. Simon's soft expression gleamed in the campfire, his aspect holding remains of sanity and his hair barely having strands of white. He stared fondly at the two girls, amused and warmed by the joy of his proteges.

-"Please, My Sister!", little Marceline extended the plea, using the name she knew the older girl loved.

Beatrice looked at the girl in her lap with breaf awe, before she hid it behind layer of playfullness, chuckling at her sister's innocent insistance.

-"Alright, alright. One last time!" Little Linlin cheered at that, then snuggled her head in the Beatrice's neck. It felt like home.

The voice started singing, and the adult vampire, standing a tad nearer to the group than she was previously, watched longingly as the melody she knew by heart was murmured again.

'Thank you, i'll say goodbye soon.'

As the continuous loop of words emerged her.

'Though it's the end of the world, don't blame your self now.'

As a buried hope stired up within her.

'And if it's true, i will surround you..'

As the bittersweet dream filled her with an unbearable comfort.

'And give life to a world'

As she craved what the verses promised.

'That's our own.'

[kaynes-secret-blog]

Started listening to Canada by night

Is it stupid to say I like Everett already considering my history? (Cough cough Arthur Lester fan cough cough) I mean I like he has to eat other vampires and almost drinks the soul of another vampire on the very first episode that's crazy like dude

Also I like Doris cause she has potential to become (or is already and I don't know) very fucked up and I relate to her and she's cool (acting completely calm when ur buddy is panicking bc of a vampire attack? Unbothered queen) and she likes witchy stuff (she's just like me fr)

I also love how most cop shows have like, the one girl in the middle of all the guys but here we got all the girls and Everett

Only watched the first episode and part of the second but it's cool

Thanks for the person that gave me the rec I don't have ur username now but ur cool

[foxsimthings]

• Nastya Lysenko, The Vampire / Vamp for @plumbewb 's BAD GIRLS CLUB!

• 26 years old

• San Myshuno

-Seduction 5

-Physical Strength 5

-Mental Strength 5

-Manipulation 5

-Anger Management 0

• Pansexual, single, and not looking but highly dtf

• Bad Girl Archetype: FLIRTY GIRL & THE FIGHTER

• Bad Girl Foes: THE REAL GIRL & THE CLASSY GIRL

• While perhaps not always a bad girl, Nastya has always given Bad Girl Energy. After the loss of her mother, and to care for her younger brothers, she hustled as a bartender from only slightly under age until a regular patron drunkenly asked her to step on his face for a hundred simoleons. This fateful request would send her down a highly lucrative path, and one that would land her as a certified Bad Girl. Nastya enjoys doling out pain to willing victims, for a price, but her tongue is just as sharp as her tools of the trade. Her scathing remarks are known to leave lasting emotional scars and while she may almost be classified as a Real Girl for her exceedingly blunt honesty, she rarely goes out of her way to help anyone but herself. Nastya looks out for Nastya and her siblings. Extremely few others are afforded such a luxury.

Nastya loves to work out in her spare time and has the abs to show for it. She's also TALL, and that has never stopped her from wearing six - or more - inch heels. Nastya sincerely loves to tower over people and delights in making them uncomfortable. Her goal in life is to be remembered as a pitiless gargoyle. She will bulldoze through anything and anyone in her way, either through brute strength or slice-and-dice comments. This Unbothered Queen cares more about the state of her manicure than the feelings of some Trust Fund Baby who thinks she's hot shit.

• I am not a bad girl, I'm The Bad Girl. No one does it like Nastya, but they all try so hard - it's very cute. Push your luck with me and I'll fuck your mother, make your parents divorce, then marry your daddy so you have to call me Mommy. But if you can behave, and you like a good time, call Nastya to get nasty.

[vcmpirequeen]

MARCELINE ABADEER is based on MARCELINE from adventure time. she is a 33 year old/immortal half-vampire/half-demon, aspiring musician, and uses she/they pronouns. she has the power of transformation, flight, and color consumption & is written by ALEX.

IC INFO: after having been alive for a thousand years, perhaps, some would expect marceline to be bored with the world or entirely lacking empathy, yet she's managed to cling to her more human traits throughout the centuries. they’re naturally emotional, even if they have difficulty expressing their feelings directly apart from through their music, and sentimental, attaching herself to the objects and people that have stood beside her throughout the years. she's playful, occupying days with mischief often to the annoyance of those around her - yet rarely intentionally malicious, unless forced to more malevolent deeds due to hunger. still, a certain amount of selfishness after centuries of having to survive alone dwells, as well as lingering fears of abandonment and a general independent nature. 

to most, marceline is seen as fearless - and is, when it comes to facing monsters and slaying beasts, yet facing vulnerability remains something of a struggle, even if they’ve found herself opening up more in recent years than most of their life. she holds deep care for those surrounding her, truly wishing to help them and being willing to sacrifice things dear to her for them. half demon and vampire queen she may be, but that half human side of her will always remain.

HEADCANONS:

they're a thousand years old - they’ve lost track of their moral code - and the gender binary. i headcanon marcy as nonbinary, usually using she or they pronouns but really she’s chill with whatever! 

coming from a place like ooo, they're not great at blending in, constantly fighting the urge to float above the ground like they always used to, suck red from objects in front of others, scare people by shapeshifting, etc. after hundreds of years of instinctual actions, she can’t help but fall back into her patterns at times - and will just try to act like she definitely wasn't just hovering a few feet above the ground if someone acts shocked. 

while adventurous and mostly unbothered by being transported into evermore, she’s also very sentimental and finds herself quietly missing pieces of home… not that she’ll ever tell anyone. it hurts, seeing the faces of those she calls her best friends not even recognize her.

and, though happy to have a new land to explore, they hate being trapped in a single town. she’s definitely tried to fly as high as she could to see if she could break past whatever barrier is trapping them within… only to land right back where they started.

they're slowly rebuilding their wardrobe in evermore: with plenty of red, of course, but she’ll only suck the red from her clothes as a last resort! most days, she’s wearing long gloves, a wide-brimmed sunhat, or carrying around a parasol to protect her skin - definitely just because she really cares about her skincare routine and not because she's a vamp.

she’s a constant wanderer, with no sort of permanent address currently, as "aspiring musician" doesn't exactly pay the bills. so, their "wardrobe" is more of a stuffed suitcase, and their beloved axe bass is nearly always with them.

and canon, but for the non adventure time fans, yes, marceline IS a vampire, but she consumes the color red rather than blood - and, of course, can drink blood, but tends to only do so when starved of red and forced into a frenzy. they can even drink shades of it like pink, though it doesn't sustain them to the same degree. she's actually incredibly wary of other vampires, given that she was a former vampire hunter before being turned into the last vampire in ooo against her will. but, given that most vampires in evermore aren't as cruel as the ones she fought back home, they're going to try to give them another chance - and maybe it'll be nice to have some others who can understand her.

though bonnie is the genius between them, marceline is fairly intelligent herself - in different ways than bonnibel, with a creative mind rather than analytical (not that bonnie isn't also creative, but they aren't exactly the rockstar marcy is)… but they can’t be bothered to apply themselves if it doesn’t involve something fun or musical.

[midnightunderground-hq]

Plot Drop 001: And Icarus Fell

THE TRUTH OF THE MATTER....

My most dear puppets, I regret to inform you that something terrible has happened in our humble home. The night of the late Orator’s funeral, our Fae and Wizard absconded into the night and dared to cross into the Otherrealm of the faeries. Sweet Nora was none the wiser to her part as accomplice in such a treasonous action. You should never trust a traitor, young Wizard, especially when you do not know what actions they have committed to cause an exile such as this.

Time is nearly impossible to tell in the realm of the faeries, so how long they wandered before it all began is anyone’s guess. If only they had known off in the distance the bells were ringing, indicating a violation of parole. The Queen’s Guards were swiftly upon them after that. 

It was truly the fact that Nora was human (no matter how powered she may be) that saved her from imprisonment. The Queen called across the border to the young woman’s circle leader, Thaddeus, and threw the thin veil came forth Karlha, called upon to honor assistance to the Wizard after saving her from a terrible night of drinking. It was an unfair trade but the Night Candidate seemed unbothered to both leave Esmeray to rot and free Nora.

They were pulled apart quickly and Nora watched as the young faery raised her head in reverence (or perhaps a mock showing of it) and said, “I await my punishment, my Queen.”

I tell you, my most enthralling creatures, how beautiful it was to see that Wizard fight for her friend. How terrible spells can be though when cast in unknown lands - how heavy those consequences must weigh upon her brow. On her way out though, she was able to snag a small trinket; a fitting gift, and the last she would ever have, as Cerese, as part of her punishment in crossing borders without approval, banned her from ever returning, even if it meant aiding Esmeray.

And now we come to a cross roads. On one side sits the Wizard, unable to return, unable to help her friend. On the other the Fae, unable to return, unable to help herself.

But, perhaps, you could. Nora collects those she trusts or those who may be willing to aide in the young faery’s retrieval from the Otherrealm. Her sentencing will be taking place soon and you know neither why it is as extreme as it is nor how you are supposed to interfere. 

If you don’t, well, I suppose a headless faery can be just as good company.

THE FATES ARE CRUEL AND UNKIND....

When asked to roll to see if they arrived safely in the land of the faeries:

Esmeray rolled.....9 (mixed success): She was able to enter, however alarms bells were tripped.

Nora rolled......10 (complete success): She was able to enter undetected and unbothered.

When asked to roll to see if they could leave successfully:

Esmeray rolled.....5 (complete failure): She was captured by the Queen’s Guard with no hesitation.

Nora rolled......3 (complete failure): She was captured by the Queen’s Guard with no hesitation.

Friend of the past came to aide:

Nora called for help (complete success); The vampires and Karlha were called and saved her from being stuck in the faery realm, with the stipulation that she could never return.

When asked to roll to see if they procured anything of use:

Esmeray rolled.....4 (complete failure): She saw nothing of use and was forced to endure her fate.

Nora rolled......7 (mixed success): She was able to grab something of use, but at a terrible price.

IMPLICATIONS FOR THE GAME....

Esmeray, the Fae, has been captured by the High Court and is being held prisoner until her trial in TWO DAYS time. You must work together (or not, should you find yourself caring less) to help save her lest the Queen shout off with her head. You must:

Find a way to the realm of the fae

Figure out what exactly Esmeray did to deserve such a harsh punishment

Make a compelling argument to Queen Cerese Fiala as to why she should be spared

Any threads occurring from the running event are free to take place and be finished, but please note, no muses would know about what occurred until the following day November 4th.

This is a plot drop! While other actions in game effect how our story may progress these drops are the biggest way to influence the future of the Midnight Underground. One wrong move could send you, and everyone else around you, spiraling towards certain death.

THERE WILL BE ROLLING! Due to the important nature of this plot drop, any interactions with NPCs regarding Esmeray’s trial, as well as the trial itself, will result in having to roll. Esmeray’s fate is laid directly in your hands. Should you fail, the consequences for her could be extreme.

My most cherished angels, I live to revel in the horrors unfolding. As my darling always says you are such thrilling entertainment. Try not to get our girl beheaded like my dear Anne Boleyn, won’t you?

Sincerely,

[goldenworldsabound]

A,L,t & z??

Helloooooo Rattie, I, the Comte de Saint German, am taking these 🥰the others have been so greedy, haven't they? 🙃

A - Activity what’s something they enjoy doing together?

I'll enjoy most anything if it's with ma chatounette. A favorite past time of ours is pretending to be human tourists in Paris, and particularly obnoxious ones at that. You wouldn't believe the incorrect information tour guides disseminate. They should be grateful that Crystalline and I correct them, but they never are. It's fun, anyway. 😄Observing behavior is always fun~

L - Love when did they realize they were in love?

It was many centuries ago, you know. Not long after the Babel incident that brought us vampires into being. We worked together in service of the Queen at that time. How could I not fall for ma minette? They were the same as I was. Intelligent, and dedicated, and perhaps a bit sweeter than I've ever been, hehe. 😊I don't know that there was a single moment when I suddenly fell - it was more that I woke up one morning and realized it had happened. And I immediately began the appropriate courting process. But that was just for show - we both knew what we felt, and what we wanted. And the Queen was thrilled to have the first vampire wedding to officiate, ahaha! 🤭

T - Touchy do they like PDA? How do they like to cuddle?

I adore cuddling. After a long trip away, there's nothing more I want. I'm quite fond of holding them from behind, and kissing their hair and neck. I just want to hold them in my arms however suits us both at that moment 🥰

I was deeply amused to see the grandchildren react to us sharing a simple peck of a kiss in front of them - Noe seemed overjoyed, I suspect due to the humans who raised him being openly affectionate, while Louis grumbled about it being "disgusting". Domi seemed mostly unbothered, though she focused her attention on Noe almost immediately to see his reaction, haha. None of these reactions were surprising, but it was fun.

Out in public we typically hold hands, or I offer my arm to ma chatounette. I've no shame about PDA with ma cherie. Why should I? 😊

Z - Zzz how do they sleep together?

Cuddled up 🥰 Ma minette has a large piles of plushies, which I'm fine with, but when I am home in bed they absolutely must cuddle me. I am a very jealous vampire, you see, and if they cuddle the plushies I'll be most put out. They don't seem to mind much, hehe. 😝

[variousqueerthings]

movies watched so far this halloween (the monstrous feminine):

1. Elvira (10/10, was exactly what I wanted it to be in every way, this one is for the lesbians and the drag queens and the high femmes)

2. The Wasp Woman (3/10, they kept mixing up wasp and bee lore and we didn’t even get to see her as a monster wasp woman until near the end)

3. Possessor (7/10 on concept alone. Not as queer as it should have been narratively, but we get a couple of amazing genderfuckery sex scene shots, including the lead seeing her own body, but with an erect penis -- think that may only be the uncut version)

4. Twins Of Evil (5/10, I think I’m just not a fan of this kind of exploitation movie... it started out interesting, but then gave in to a more formulaic unbothered plot that didn’t lean into the complexities enough. Peter Cushing decapitates a vampire though)

[heliotrope-journey]

Cross a Fear in 2024

Good evening, vampire hunters.

A letter with Frederick’s handwriting was discovered by George Louis Pendragon in the lavender field outside Ellington. He looks at the sky for any sign of the sender only to be greeted by a blood moon. Photo by Martin Adams on Unsplash.

“Dear Thalia,

I have received your letter. It is burdensome to fathom that we’ll never see our brother again. Darkness swirls in our home and I cannot return soon, but I am writing to you so you’ll know I’m thinking of the family. I had thought for a few long hours on Christmas night that the town played a cruel joke and that Rajel was comatose. How could I be fooled into thinking he’d make it? He did boost repeatedly in his youth that he is the most powerful thing in the universe. So what force surpassed him? If it’s death, it’s too obvious of an answer because it would mean the mark he left on us would’ve died with him.

Rajel dwells in my thoughts daily. It’s comical how we went from keeping Esther up with our storytelling squabbles to him saving me from becoming one of the Zombie Queen’s servants in the palace overlooking Galicia. Who can forget him yelling to her, “You turned him into a zombie!!!” before drawing his frozen sword at her?  He took a heavy beating, but he bought Eli time to feed me a potion to restore the blood flow in my tissues she killed. It goes to show that sometimes the most powerful thing in the universe needs a little help every now and then so why didn’t I see the danger that took him? I realized that too late when I saw him sitting on the couch in the basement and I ran over to hug him thinking that the news of his death was just a dream and that everything will be okay. When I touched him, his body was ice cold. His eyes were open, but he wasn’t moving. He was in no pain and I tried to get him to talk, but I soon to realize I was hugging a husk. It was the thought that he was alive that was just a dream and I awoke feeling empty. Everything’s never going to be okay again, but hearing back from you and knowing Eforie and Cody are with me helped me see that it doesn’t mean I am forced to face this alone.

Please give Esther my regards. It would help dry her tears knowing Rajel bequeathed me the love he was not embarrassed to show all who knew him. He represented the best in all of us and that alone is more powerful than a killing curse. We’re following the Rainbow Road to Ellington to buy lightstones to help protect you from the darkness threatening to infect the hearts of mankind. Death is in hot pursuit of the three of us, but we will fight knowing that the love Rajel left behind will not be wasted. Should you find my message, I will meet you in the Berninger Pub to deliver the lightstones. Find yourself a black cloak and sit at the table by the window. You’ll blend in by the candlelight, leaving you unbothered by prying patrons.

Love,

Frederick”

Sincerely,

WN

[cinberella]

DEVIL IN DISGUISE

Artist: @skylar102

Rating: M

Pairing: Malec

Word Count: 48.500

This fic was created for the ​ Mini Bang 2023 presented by the @malecdiscordserver

CHAPTER 6/7 Unleashed

"God, Magnus, what have you done?"

The Vampire’s voice holds stupor and dismay in it as if he could not believe his eyes. Truthfully, the scene before him is nothing less than horrifying. It reminds him of what he found inside a rogue vampire’s den a while ago. It was macabre. And Raphael is pretty used to dealing with blood, isn’t he? But so much of it? From just one man? He is frozen on his spot, disturbingly aware that the blood, on the floor and all over the walls as well, belongs to one of his friends. 

"What I had to." 

Magnus answers him, his burning eyes glowing with a feral amber light.

"Did you torture him? Angels above, Magnus… Meliorn has always been one of us, how could you…”

Raphael can hear the horribly beaten man’s slow heartbeat, so he knows he is still alive. For now, at least. Magnus looks different, though. He has never looked more like a Prince of Hell than now.

“Meliorn is hiding something from us. I know the Queen is involved in this mess, and he will tell me where that fucking Sword is. Unless his loyalty to the Queen is worth losing his life.”

“I didn't think you would go this far... The Queen won't forgive you so easily if you kill him."

Magnus rolls his liquid golden eyes, snorting. As if he cared about the Queen; though, he cares about his dear Vampire’s feelings. Raphael may be difficult to deal with but he has always been a loyal friend and a fair man.

"Look, Raphael, I didn’t have fun doing this, ok? Ragnor here can confirm that I tried to reason with him at first.”

“He did.” Ragnor confirms, calmly, sitting comfortably in an armchair on the other side of the room, unbothered, looking carelessly at the Seelie man chained to the ceiling by his arms stretched upward as if he meant nothing to him, as if his life meant nothing.

Meliorn seems to be unconscious; his face an unrecognizable mask of blood and bruises and his eyes are swollen and black all around. Raphael wonders if looking like that, he’s going to lose his sight. He is shirtless and his torso is covered in cuts and bruising contusions. And a mix of dried and fresh blood as well. So much… blood.

All in all, the scene is quite disturbing to watch, especially because of the utter stillness of the man, which appears somehow unnatural.

As they step further into what seems to have become a chamber of horrors, Raphael hears the terrified gasp the Warlock that he is roughly pushing inside lets out, perhaps realizing he is the next one. Raphael also notices the slight but constant shaking of his body. Galaster hasn’t drawn a single breath since they walked in, probably as shocked as the Vampire was at being faced with such barbarity.

After Ragnor caught him and brought him to Magnus’ hideout, the High Warlock welcomed him and seemed ready to deal with him right away, but something made him change his mind. In fact, a fire message arrived, out of the blue. The tone of those written words, read aloud by Magnus for everyone’s benefit, was urgent and frantic, asking, demanding Magnus to open a portal for whomever it was. Magnus looked mischievously pleased by the unexpected visit and ordered Raphael to take Galaster, already handcuffed with special restraints blocking his magic, to another room. Magnus was emanating a spine-chilling, frightening aura and was sporting a wicked smile on his lips; that was a grimace Galaster has never witnessed before. Before being dragged away, he saw Magnus open the portal, and Meliorn step out of it. It seemed much more like a trap, but Galaster couldn’t know what happened next. He guessed Magnus and Ragnor would proceed to interrogate the man about the Queen’s real intentions. On the other hand, the Queen had just tried to trick him, or so Ragnor told him, and surely Magnus wouldn’t trust Meliorn to be on his side, despite their century-old friendship. 

But this was no interrogation…  This was brutal and merciless agony. Galaster has made many bad decisions in his life. Decisions he is not proud of. In the past, he had thought for a long time that Valentine could really be the only hope against Demons... But then the outcast Shadowhunter turned out to be a visionary psycho-murderer and Galaster regretted having fought alongside him. He contributed to the deaths of his fellow Warlocks. Of innocent Downworlders. But Galaster has always been a coward and has been in hiding for 20 years, knowing he wasn’t worthy of forgiveness. Magnus Bane, instead, has always been a man of different moral stature. So far at least. Now he too seems to have lost that same humanity that makes Warlocks better than their demonic parents.

Galaster starts squirming against Raphael’s body. He is terrified. Meliorn was Magnus’ friend, so he can’t even think about what the Warlock may have in store for him. What kind of physical and mental torture he will make him endure? And Galaster is not that strong, is he?

“Unfortunately, I still need confirmation that the Sword is kept at the Seelie Court.” Magnus goes on, wiping his bloody hands on a rag. He could have cleaned them magically, but the effect would be different. Way less dramatic or horrid.

Raphael holds the Warlock firmly, still gawking at Magnus with a shocked expression. Magnus is finally showing what his true nature is, isn’t he? He is more than just a half demon, in his veins runs the blood of one of the most powerful Greater Demons. Raphael gets it, but this? Torture?

His face must be showing his consternation, because Magnus laughs at him, half amused and half annoyed.

“By Lilith, Raphael, don’t look so appalled! Meliorn is a tough nut to crack. But I am going to give him a little respite, ok? I guess I can lavish some of my attention on our dear Galaster now. What do you say, Ragnor, will we be luckier with this one? Will he tell us what we want to know? Or will he break too soon… He doesn’t seem very… resilient.”

At that moment the chained man moans and begins to cough up blood.

"Help… Please... Raph…" His voice is feeble and gurgling as he keeps drooling reddened saliva.

Magnus throws the blood-soaked rag to the ground angrily and stalks toward the man, grabbing his hair and yanking his head back violently, causing him to whine in pain again.

"Meliorn, don't be so annoying. We are having a conversation here. You better shut up and save your breath for later. Don’t worry, I’ll make you scream again soon. Now it’s Galaster’s turn, though. So, be quiet, yes? And enjoy the show.”

He releases Meliorn’s hair and spins around to stare at the other Warlock.

“Galaster, are you ready? I think you'll find these chains very interesting. They not only prevent you from using magic like the handcuffs you're wearing now, but they're made of adamas. So, they will be very unpleasant against your skin. You know that those marks don't heal, right? You will carry the scars forever, assuming you’ll survive."

"What? That's barbaric. Please Magnus, no… You can’t..."

Magnus shrugs nonchalantly, while Raphael starts pushing him to make him advance toward the chains dangling from the ceiling. The Vampire has not much of a choice, even if he doesn’t agree with Magnus’ methods, he won’t get in his way. He is not that stupid.

"Well, Galaster, I can, actually. Yet… what is gonna happen it's up to you, really. Meliorn has been useless so far and I'm losing my temper. If you tell me where is the Sword and who got it in the first place, I'll let you go, you will be free to run away and keep hiding like the filthy rat you are. Otherwise, I'll take all my wrath out on you, Galaster. This is a promise… I won’t hold back; I won’t spare you any suffering. Or even death, if necessary."

"Fuck, Magnus. We're not like that. Don’t you want to try and persuade him to cooperate? You can’t kill someone in cold blood like this."

"Oh, no? Well, watch me, Raphael. We have demon blood, my dear. And it is cold. Shadowhunters are right about that. Our blood calls for blood. And I'm sick of everything. Rebel Warlocks, hypocrite Nephilim people, and even friends who don’t trust me…” 

That sounded dangerously like a threat. Raphael widens his eyes, taken aback, but shuts his mouth once and for all. Magnus’ expression softens then.

“Raphael, I would never hurt you, but I won't let this world go to shit. Not if I can avoid it. There are still people I care about and I need to make it clear to the Consul that if she doesn't want the Shadowhunter line to be exterminated, she'll have to listen to us. I’ll put my hands on that damn Sword, no matter what the cost and I am not going to hand it back to the Clave. It’s too dangerous. By Lilith… They are nothing more than a bunch of incompetents at best and bloodthirsty traitors at worst."

Magnus looks around, catching the irony in his words, and giggles briefly.

"My God, Bane, you're a monster." 

Galaster whispers with a strangled voice, trying to escape the lethal grip of Raphael’s hands around his arms. But he isn’t strong enough, and his magic is obstructed by the restraints Magnus put around his wrists. Magnus lifts one of his eyebrows, smirking. Raphael shivers again.

"Am I a monster? Me? And what about you, then? You joined the Circle 20 years ago, you betrayed us and stained your hands with the blood of so many innocents. I just want justice, Galaster, and I may spare your life if you tell me where the Sword is. Otherwise, you are going to suffer… well, a lot."

A sob erupts from the Warlock’s mouth, his face transfigured by fear.

“Magnus…” Raphael knows he is not going to stop him. But…

“Raphael, if you're not strong enough, please leave the room, I've made it soundproof so you won't hear his screams, as I bet you didn't hear Meliorn's.”

Raphael shakes his head.

"No, I'll stay. I don't like this, but if this is the only way..."

"You know it is... We need to retrieve the Sword before it's too late. Shall we proceed?”

With a flick of his wrist, Meliorn is freed from the chains and his battered body slumps awkwardly to the ground. 

Ragnor stands up from the armchair and kicks him away with his foot, making room for Galaster to take his place. When he deems it enough room, he turns to the Vampire. The British Warlock oddly seems to be having a great time.

"Raphael, bring him here so I can hang him. I think Meliorn has passed out again and won't wake up anytime soon. Magnus went a little rough on him.” He sounds almost amused by the situation.

“Magnus, this time try to make this last a little longer, ok?" He concludes and Magnus shrugs,as to say “I’ll try”  and starts rolling up his sleeves intently. Raphael thrusts Galaster forward to make him move, but Galaster puts up some resistance.

"No… Wait, please…”

The Warlock drops to his knees, resting his forehead on the ground in prostration before Magnus; he is sobbing in earnest now, but Magnus looks down at him with undisguised contempt. For being a magical immortal being Galaster is admittedly reduced to an embarrassing begging mess. But he must know he is nowhere as powerful as Magnus, and if the High Warlock has decided to torture him to death, his only hope is to tell the truth and implore his mercy.

“Please, Magnus… I’ll talk, please.”

Magnus stops rolling his sleeves and grins.

“I’m listening.”

Galaster straightens up, sitting on his heels and looks up at Magnus like a mistreated puppy.

“Ok, sure So… Valentine... when he died… I knew I had to run away… And I never meant to go back to New York, I swear… But they found me, somehow, and they asked me to portal the Sword from Paris and to obscure any trace of the portal. They threatened me, and I thought… I could do just this one thing, right? I could disappear again, afterward, I thought… but Ragnor... Shit... I didn't mean... Please, Magnus… forgive me, ok? I'll do whatever you ask me. Just… Spare my life… I am immortal, I cannot die... Please…" 

The Warlock is rambling by now, having his fear taken the best of him. Magnus’ eyes are cold and unforgiving, though. His words even more, spat out through his teeth.

"Frankly, you are unforgivable, Galaster. As I said, I have no pleasure in inflicting pain, although I am good at it since as you know, I am my father’s son, after all. Do you wanna have a taste of my skills?"

"No… For God's sake... Magnus… Please…" Galaster whines and Magnus’ eyes shine with impatience.

"Stop begging then and tell me where the Sword is, so Ragnor can bring you back to whatever sewage he found you all in one piece."

A glint of hope lights the Warlock’s eyes. He nods frantically. He will talk, he will tell Magnus anything to save his life.

"The… The Sword is… It is already in Idris, ok?” Galaster is clearly overwhelmed by sheer terror and seems now unable to stop the tears, as he tries to speak between sobs.

“They… They asked me to create a portal near… near Brooklyn so you would be indicted… But the Sword was taken to Idris, I think... Oh God… I think pretty much right after I portaled it to… to New York..."

“Whom are you talking about? Who brought it there?” Magnus asks, relentlessly. He expects the Warlock kneeling before him to say Alec’s name; Alec Lightwood and his siblings were responsible of this whole mess. He has been so damn sure, but… apparently, he has never been so wrong in his life.

"Johnathan Morgenstern.” This is the name Galaster chokes off in the end, bowing his head forward in total surrender.

Magnus frowns, wordlessly. Because Johnathan Morgenstern is, was actually, Valentine's long-dead son. So, maybe he got it wrong.

“Who?”

“You heard me right. Valentine's son. I know, he died when he was just a toddler, I… I can’t explain why, or even how he has come back… But he is not human anymore. He’s not even a Shadowhunter anymore. He returned from Hell to take his revenge. He wants... He wants to break down the gates of Hell and rule Edom together with his sister. He told me as much. And I know he has made a deal with the Queen. She… She will reign on Earth, this world will be a… colony to her Seelie Court, while Johnathan wants to dominate Hell. But… there will be no more barriers between worlds, they will merge into one single realm. With the Cup and the Sword, he will be able to control demons and annihilate all the Nephilim people who are now protecting Mundanes... So, they will all die. Everyone without demon blood in their veins  will die. I am so sorry…"

Galaster seems to have regained his eloquence, but what he just said… It makes Magnus' blood run cold in his veins. Raphael and Ragnor seem equally petrified. Valentine's son? The little baby had horribly died in a fire at the Morgensterns’ mansion in Idris, shortly before Jocelyn managed to deceive and end her husband's life with the help of Lucius Greymark, the man’s parabatai. That night Jocelyn got pregnant with a girl, who was born nine months later in Alicante. 

How did Johnathan even survive? One thing is for sure though; being Valentine and Jocelyn’s son, the boy must be a Shadowhunter, he has angelic blood and could not have survived in Hell. So, what Galaster said makes no sense. In any case, his angelic blood may have granted him free access to Idris until now, and if he already brought the Sword there… It would be a disaster.

“Look, there's no way he survived the fire, much less he came back from Hell. Don’t mess around with me, Galaster… You don’t wanna play this game, do you?”

The Warlock seems calmer now, as if resigned to his fate. There is not much more he can do. He is at Magnus’ mercy and there is no point in keeping the truth for himself.

“Magnus… I’m not lying. He is a monster… He has demon blood in his veins and he is powerful…”

He is not human anymore…  The Warlock’s previous words sink in, eventually. Magnus’ eyes widen in realization.

"...there is something wrong with him… I mean, he’s not a Warlock, or a Seelie, but he has something absolutely demonic in him. And he is a shapeshifter… I saw him change… so he now looks like one of them... He took the place of the nephew of the Head of the Paris Institute a while ago and he had been living there for months.”

The Warlock stops speaking and looks up at Magnus, desperation and regret clear on his face. 

“It’s too late, Magnus. He has the Sword…. And when he puts his hand on the Cup... He... He will destroy our world to its foundations. I am sorry… So sorry."

Magnus’ jaw twitches and his hands close in tight fists. It’s way worse than expected, but it’s not his habit to give in without a fight.

"Raphael… We have to hurry."

The Vampire nods, looking alarmed, and willing to follow Magnus’ orders.

“I know… Tell me what you need me to do, and I’ll do it… Just… It seems that Alec is not involved, after all.”

“No, he isn’t.” Magnus admits, flatly. He is relieved, but he has no time to process what happened with the young Shadowhunter. It must be an explanation for his behavior. Raphael and Maia, and even Meliorn, they were right.

“And Isabelle either, right?” 

When the Seelie man, still laying on the floor, speaks again out of the blue, Galaster trail off in surprise. Meliorn scoffs then, shaking his head and lithely sitting up. His voice is firm and steady and he glances up at Raphael, grinning at the Vampire. Then he turns his awfully swollen eyes toward Magnus.

“I told you, didn’t I? Isabelle is not a traitor.”

He stands up easily, a moment later, his lopsided smile still plastered on his bruised face. Galaster gapes at him, and he gasps in surprise when his whole body shape becomes blurred and glows with a multicolor light. 

Right… He thinks. Seelie magic. 

When the glimmer around his figure fades away, all the bruises, wounds, and even the blood that covered his skin have disappeared. Meliorn is completely unharmed and standing in front of the Warlock in all his angelic-and-demonic combined glory.

“What the fuck?” Galaster mutters in disbelief.

Magnus can’t help but chuckle softly at the man’s mystified reaction, while Meliorn picks up a tunic that was on another armchair and puts it on.

“Galaster? Are you ok? You seem a little pale…” Magnus mocks him with evident satisfaction.

“You… You didn’t…”

“No, I didn’t hurt Meliorn, I don't usually engage in torture and turn my back on my friends. I’m not that kind of man, and I pride myself on trying to listen to them, despite my prejudices. I was sure that the young Lightwoods were behind this, but they made me reconsider my assumption. Or at least they convinced me that there might be another explanation. As much as I don't trust Shadowhunters, I do trust those who have stood by me for centuries. I can't say the same thing about you, though. You betrayed us twenty years ago, and you are going to pay for that, now. We will deliver you to the Clave and you will be tried for the crimes you committed when you were in the Circle. I'm sure the Clave won't have as much mercy on you as I'm having. I didn’t lie, you know? I don't like to inflict pain... But you... You deserve no mercy, Galaster, and my hands are itching… Raphael? Please, take him away, before I can indulge in rash deeds."

"What? No… No, you promised to let me go if I told you the truth. Magnus… You gave me your word…"

Magnus scoffs and points at him, looking at Meliorn in clear amusement.

"He still doesn't get it, does he?” He asks the Seelie man, feigning incredulity.

Then Magnus steps forward and crouches in front of Galaster. He utters his following words coldly and in such a detached way that the kneeling Warlock seems to be about to burst out crying again. 

His eyes are wet and his lower lip is trembling, but Magnus doesn’t pity him.

“This was all a farce, Galaster… Everything I said was a lie. Besides, I can't let you go. You're my ticket to get to Idris now, I need you. You shall meet with none other than the Consul herself, in her opulent office in Alicante, pleading your case. Raphael? Call Isabelle and tell her to get ready, we're taking this scum to the Institute."

"Got it… I'll call Izzie right away. Let me just get this package ready to be delivered to the Clave, ok? Just… Don't you think you overdid it with the amount of blood? It bordered me on the far-fetched side."

Magnus shrugs. “Maybe. But it worked; so…”

Raphael is unabashedly grinning now as are Meliorn and Ragnor. Who can blame them, though? This was so easy, after all, and they played a great team game. More than great. And above all, Magnus is such a good actor, isn’t he?

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

Every Shadowhunter knows that in one of the guarded rooms adjacent to the Consul's office, there is a permanent portal, that can be connected to all Institutes in the world. It is mainly used by high-ranking officers of the Clave visiting one or other Institute or by the Heads living and working in the diverse cities who need to go to Alicante for whatever reason, or even to transfer prisoners who are to be incarcerated, tried, or executed at the Guards. The procedure is magically complex and is operated by a few portal workers, properly trained to interface with each portal on the other side of the magical channel. They are responsible to make sure that travelers arrive at the desired destination safely.

Clary and Sebastian are walking along the corridor to get there and two guards are following them, as ordered by the Inquisitor, but the girl knows that, provided they really go through the portal, it is very unlikely that they will land in South Africa as they should. Probably, one of the Shadowhunters in charge of their transfer is a traitor. But Clary is prepared. For starters, she is ready to react, she has her weapons and won’t hesitate to use them in case the blond Shadowhunter attacks her. Secondly, she has activated a special rune to be localized by her mother and Lucius, Luke, as she has always called him. And most importantly, the Cup she is holding in her hand is not the Cup. 

It's a simulacrum. A fake. The Cup has already been brought to safety for some time. When all this mess started, Clary was sent to New York undercover, to figure out who at the New York Institute could be the traitor. Because it was obvious there was a Shadowhunter involved. It must have been. A Downworlder alone could not have activated the Sword and in any case, Jocelyn knew that Magnus Bane was a man of honor, even though the two hadn't interacted in the last 19 years and were never friends. But both knew the value of loyalty. During the Uprising, Jocelyn pretended to be part of the Circle, she double-crossed Valentine, dangerously putting her life at risk. And she lost a son for the cause; in the end, she murdered her husband and Magnus respected her for that; he understood her pain, in some respect at least. And Clary knows her mother has always returned the favor toward the Warlock. But the Inquisitor... She had no idea, and she issued an arrest warrant for the High Warlock. In fact, no one knows about Clary’s true mission. Only her mother, Luke, and the Consul of course. Not even the Inquisitor knows the truth; as far as she is concerned, she did entrust the Cup to Clary a few minutes earlier and Magnus Bane is nothing less than a criminal. Well, the Clave will apologize to Magnus Bane when it's all over. The High Warlock is on the run at the moment and Clary hopes they don't catch him. She doesn't want him tortured or worse when she knows he's innocent. Not that she could do anything about it right now. Now she has to stay focused; anything can literally go to hell in a blink of an eye.

Now, Clary's at the reckoning. The Sword hasn't been found yet, but she knows it's her job to find it, and to do so she must humor this imposter, whoever he might be. The short distance from the Inquisitor's office to the Portal room feels longer than usual. Clary feels the tension in her shoulders as she walks unhurriedly, Sebastian following.

In the end, nothing happens and they cross the portal, under the watchful eye of the few Shadowhunters in the room. She is not very surprised, though, when past the glowing light of the portal, finds herself at the edge of a forest edging the shore of a lake. Well, the place is familiar to her. She has often seen those tall conifers and the silver water of the lake; on the other hand, she grew up in Idris, so she knows immediately that they are near Lake Lyn and the fact that Sebastian, or whoever this intruder is, wanted to take the Cup with him is concerning. She knows what that means, even more, if he has the Sword as she suspects.

And she bets the Sword is nearby. Who the Hell is this man? A well-disguised Warlock? But he entered the Institute and Idris’s wards without issues, so he must have angelic blood in his veins.

This makes no sense at all. He must be a Shadowhunter, but he needs demon blood to accomplish the ritual with the Cup. Maybe he has an accomplice… She must be very, very careful.

Clary is walking ahead of Sebastian again, slowing her pace and with all her senses on alert. The young man follows her and doesn’t say a word, but she needs to face him, so she stops in her tracks and spins on her heels, abruptly to look at him straight in the face. He is… smiling.

“Clarissa. It’s so nice to finally meet you. I have waited for this moment for so long, you have no idea.”

She frowns. The impostor cannot know it, but Clary met Sebastian five years earlier and it is not possible that the boy doesn’t remember her. They were barely teenagers when they met and they traded a soft, innocent kiss on the lips. Sebastian had been living in Paris for a few months then, after having lost his parents, and he was a timid and kind boy, and Clary spent a few days with him when she accompanied her mother to visit her friend Elodie. She and the blond boy clicked very fast somehow; they were so young and after those few days together and that delicate kiss they hadn’t seen each other again. Clary had her life in Idris and Sebastian in Paris, but she is sure he would remember that kiss.

However, when she introduced herself to him, the day before at the New York Institute, he gave no sign of recognizing her. And he looked eerily different. His eyes had lost all their gentleness.

Clary immediately considered that he had just arrived from Paris... and it was a sketchy coincidence, right? Of course, she couldn't share her suspicions with anyone. Not even with the young Lightwoods, who immediately welcomed her with open arms. Well, at least Isabelle and Jace.

She had yet to figure out what kind of person Alec was. But it was pretty clear that he didn't trust her, which made him either a possible suspect or a precious ally in her eyes. Clary leaned more toward the latter. Again just because of her instinct... And yet, she was rarely wrong.

"Where are we? And above all... Who the Hell are you?"

She finally asks, showing no agitation or fear. Her mother knows where she is, or at least Clary hopes so. Someone will come soon for her.  And the Cup is far away, somewhere safe.

"Oh, you're right sorry. I should introduce myself. And maybe show you what I really look like. I bet you'll notice the resemblance."

Saying so, the young boy changes his shape, his appearance. It’s a complete, full morphing of his body and face and even though Clary has already seen shapeshifters change their shape before, she knows no Shadowhunter possesses that ability. They may use a glamor but the effect is not the same. It drops altogether, it’s just an illusion. Therefore, the transformation that is slowly happening before her eyes is fascinating and horrific at the same time. The body structure of the boy, his skin, his eyes... everything transforms deep to its inner essence. Sebastian is gone in a few moments and instead of him, another boy is standing before her, more or less of the same height, slender, with red hair and green eyes, exactly like she and her mother.

"Hello… Sister." He confirms with a smirk.

"No... It's not possible. You are dead. Our father killed you; you died swallowed by the flames."

"No…” He retorts angrily, “our father saved me. He took me away from the fire and entrusted me to my mother. Or at least to the mother who actually raised me, nurturing me with her blood."

"Who are you talking about?"

Johnathan shrugs as if anything he was referring to was absolutely obvious.

"Well, Lilith… of course. I grew up in Edom, Clary and I assure you… It was not an idyllic experience. But the time will come when I will get my revenge against her, too. I will get even, Clary, in due course and for everything that happened to me. I will rule over Edom. I will dethrone her, and I’ll do it for you. I... I want to make you my Queen, what do you say? When I heard that our mother had another baby, that I had a little sister... Well, I decided to survive in Edom to come back to you. Despite the torture and all the pain Lilith inflicted on me every single day I spent with her, the thought that I still had someone to live for... To fight for, well, it made me hold on. Now give me the Cup, Clary... You need to drink my blood before I can put an end to every Shadowhunter’s existence, reduce them to be human again as they should be."

"Your blood?" 

Clary mutters in dismay. She is shocked by what this boy revealed. Is he really her brother? And was he raised by Lilith? The Queen of Edom?

"Yes... Lilith’s blood in my vein will make you a creature of Edom, like me if you drink it from the Mortal Cup. When our sword, the Morning Star Sword, finally burns your runes away and gets rid of any drop of angelic blood in our veins, we will rule over Edom, together."

Johnathan looks so calm and confident, and Clary is overwhelmed by a new feeling. She is sorry for him. Alone and abandoned, raised by a Demon, unaware of what love can be. What having a family even means. But she can’t let him win. She can’t.

“I am not going to Edom. Here is where I belong, ok? And you too. I am not going to drink your… blood.” 

The mere idea makes her stomach churn in disgust.

“Oh, but you will. This is the most precious gift I can offer you, or do you prefer to become a Mundane and succumb to the horde of Demons that are about to pour into this World?”

Good Lord.

“How…”

The boy rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed by her continuous puzzlement.

“The Sword, my dear… The Morning Star Sword that has belonged to our family for generations and that only you and I can activate with a simple touch, because of our name, can open a rift between here and Edom, but first I need to get rid of Raziel’s blood in our system.”

Of course, he is the only one who can use the Sword even if he is not a Nephilim anymore. That’s… terrifying. Clary can’t allow him to put his hand on that infernal blade.

“Where… Where is the Sword?”

“Not far from here. So... Are you with me, Clary? I know you are not to blame for what happened to me. You weren’t even born. Our mother abandoned me to die in that fire and our father left me in the hands of the Mother of Demons. But you? You are not to blame and you are my lil’ sister. I want to share my glory and power with you. We'll get to know each other, and I promise you, you'll be happy with me. Nobody will get in our way; you will get everything you want. I'm your brother, Clary, I just want to protect you and you'll learn to love me back. I'm sure of it."

He spoke his last words more sweetly, as if he really believed them and it’s heartbreaking in its craziness.

“Johnathan… I can't believe you survived… But our mother… She didn't abandon you, she tried to save you. It was Valentine's fault. That night… It was he who started the fire… She… She loved you and she has never forgiven herself for failing to protect you. I'm so sorry for what happened to you, but… I can't give you the Cup. You will have to kill me, Johnathan. Is this what you want?"

The boy's young but unsettlingly sharp face hardens a bit more at her rejection, and his eyes turn pitch dark. They are evil, bloodcurdling, revealing his demonic nature. Clary notices that he has no runes on his skin, at least on the visible parts of his pale body, and wonders if he can even bear them without losing his mind. Even more than he has already had.

She instinctively recoils when those devilish orbs meet her eyes. Her brother stares at her with those abyss-black eyes and Clary suddenly feels weak, and dizzy, her wobbly legs are suddenly unable to keep her on her feet.

"What the Hell… What are you doing to me?"

"Sleep, little sister, and when you wake up, it will be in a new world. A wonderful world that we will build together..."

Clary feels her lids heavy as she collapses, somehow gracefully, to the ground while her senses leave her, rendering her vulnerable and completely at her brother’s mercy.

She won't surrender… she must stop Johnathan and retrieve the Sword… It’s her mission, she must resist the sleepiness… But it's a losing battle.

Clary closes her eyes, as darkness envelops her. She hopes that her mother is on her way before it’s too late. Before Johnathan can open a rift to Edom, before he finds out she hasn’t the real Cup, cradled to her breast and his hopeless wrath destroys the World.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Alec enters the Consul's office, head held high and a stern scowl on his face, pushing Galaster Qibynn in front of him, in an attempt to make him walk faster. They were just in time, the portal to Idris was about to be shut down.

The plan Magnus Bane proposed to them was… well, literally crazy. But the Warlock was persuasive enough and convinced him that this was their only way to get to Idris in time. The unsanctioned transfer of the rogue Warlock would cover Magnus’ traces entering Alicante’s wards. Or at least, this is what they hope. Alec of course, but also Isabelle, Jace, Maia, Lily, Raphael, Meliorn, Catarina, and Ragnor.

They stayed in New York, waiting at the Institute to Maryse's sheer bewilderment; she was however silenced by a truly menacing Raphael. 

Such a large gathering of Downwolders all together under the roof of the Institute was surely unprecedented. They are ready to jump into the portal, should it open again. But for now, Alec is alone. The Consul is standing in front of her desk and is glaring furiously at him.

"Alexander Lightwood, you know we were about to close all the portals for a reason, don't you? You were not allowed to bring that Warlock here. The orders were clear. So, I wonder… what on Earth was so difficult for you to understand in the sentence "No Downwolders are allowed in Idris"? My life is at stake here."

Alec can’t really help but roll his eyes. He is already so…done. Everything happened incredibly fast and he has still to understand how he ended up in Idris with this handcuffed Warlock. At the same time Catarina was updating Maia about what happened with Galaster, Isabelle called him, summoning him back to the Institute. Apparently, Magnus had gotten his hands on the one who stole the Sword and was willing to hand it over to them. But the Warlock demanded that the prisoner needed to be taken to the Guards in Idris, using the portal at the Institute. Galaster Qibynn would talk to the Consul and the Consul alone, revealing Johnathan Morgenstern’s plan. Isabelle explained that the Warlock wanted to get immunity for himself in exchange for information about the Sword’s whereabouts. That was what Raphael told her.

Alec then rushed to the Institute with the two werewolf girls only a few moments before the small delegation of Downworlders arrived, dragging Galaster in chains with them.

Obviously, Maryse Lightwood freaked out, but eventually, faced with proof of Magnus' innocence and the real risk that the Sword could have been already in Idris, she let Alec go, pursuing this crazy idea Magnus came up with. Just before jumping into the portal to Alicante, though, Magnus grabbed his wrist and looked straight into his eyes. It wasn’t a friendly look. And his words still resonate in his ears.

"Apparently we need to work together for the greater good, Shadowhunter, but don't think I can ever forget that you deceived me and tried to incriminate me for things I didn't do and would never even think of doing. You got into my pants for your vile purposes and I hope you did have fun because that won't happen again. I despise you, are we clear? When we get out of this mess, just stay as far away as possible from me... The risk that I may try to incinerate you remains absolutely plausible. Do you understand?"

Alec was overwhelmed by guilt and regret and he was sorry for… for everything. But Magnus’ hurt feelings and his anger needed to wait. So, he rebutted, trying to convey his displeasure, but cutting it short nonetheless.

"Magnus… Look, I don't have time for this right now. But don't worry, I promise I won’t bother you with my presence. I know I hurt you and even if it wasn’t my intention, I am well aware of what I have done and I’ll take full responsibility for that. Now let's go and get the Morning Star Sword before Valentine's son succeeds in ending the World, shall we?"

Magnus’ eyes shone with something similar to admiration, and a weird form of respect.

"Lead the way, Shadowhunter." 

The Warlock said in the end.

And now here he is, following Magnus’ plan, trusting him, and putting himself at risk, fully and without any safety net. Good Lord… He is going to die, isn’t he?

"Consul, I am well aware, but I wouldn’t have brought him here if it wasn’t crucial. Much more than your life is at stake here. There's no need to lie. You should know that someone with Demon blood has already managed to sneak into Idris, so there is really no point in keeping those people who can help you away from here. They can help you… We can help…"

"So, this is the Warlock involved in the theft of the Sword? I remember him, he is a traitor, he used to work with Valentine. But he is of no help now and he can’t remain here. You need to take him back to New York. You can put him on trial there if you want. I don’t care. You can also execute him right after, for what matters."

Galaster fidgets on the spot, clearly at unease with the Consul’s words.

"You’re not listening to me, Consul.” Alec goes on. “We know who else is behind the theft of the Sword. We know who wants to derune us."

She furrows her brows in sign of annoyance.

"How do you even know about this? It’s classified."

"Seriously? My mother told me. I can’t believe you hid this from all of us. We could have lost... everything... Our runes, our blood, our power… our angelic mission…"

"Lightwood, I can assure you; it wouldn't have been of any benefit if Shadowhunters panicked and started picking on the Downworlders. Fear is no good counselor and emotions cloud judgement."

God, why she keeps giving out platitudes?

"Well, but it wasn't a Downwolder who wants to destroy us, but a Nephilim, right? So, you need to secure the Cup, now."

And it’s then that the Consul does something unexpected. She snickers smugly at him.

"The Cup is perfectly safe and Clarissa Fairchild is pursuing the finding of the Sword. We think the Verlac boy may be the culprit. His Aunt is already under arrest and the Paris Institute is compromised. I know you and your siblings don't think highly of the Clave, but we're not a bunch of idiots."

An ungracious and disrespectful snort resonates in the office.

"Well… I beg to differ, Consul."

It was Galaster who spoke so irreverently and quite rudely to the woman, making her eyes widen in surprise.

The man easily jerks off Alec's steel grip around his bicep and the cuffs around his wrists vanish into a blue cloud of magic. The glamour falls in the blink of an eye and the Warlock standing there next to Alec is no longer Galaster, but Magnus Bane in person.

Alec can't help but look in admiration and awe at him. His posture, his proud gaze, his loud and intimidating power. Something flutters in his stomach, something that is more than wonder, more than respect. It's something he can't come to terms with at this moment. Now they apparently have to go and save Clarissa Fairchild, left alone against her demonic brother. If only they knew where he brought her. Magnus seems to read his mind.

"Where is Clarissa?" the Warlock requires, in a resolute tone that demands nothing but an answer. "Her life is in danger and I can't believe you let her go alone."

The Consul seems more irritated than concerned.

"By the Angel, what do you think you’re doing, Mr. Bane? Ms. Fairchild is perfectly capable of neutralizing one Shadowhunter. She is with Sebastian Verlac, and we don't know yet if he is the traitor. We are waiting for her to report back. They headed to the Johannesburg Institute where they are ready to receive them. We need to understand his motives and to find out whether there are other Shadowhunters involved. It's a very delicate mission, as you surely understand. In any case, the Cup is safe. You don’t need to worry about that. We gave her a fake one."

Magnus closes his fists and glowing blue sparks start spreading from his hands. He looks furious.

The Cup may be held somewhere secure, but the Clave always puts its people’s life in danger, recklessly and without sparing a second thought. Clary is alone with an infernal monster and Magnus cannot stomach their indifference to her fate. What would happen when Johnathan discovers she doesn’t have the Cup? Who knows how he would react?

"Idiots! Sebastian Verlac has probably been dead for months. The Shadowhunter with her is Valentine’s son, her brother. And he came straight from Edom to destroy us all."

The Consul looks at him dumbfounded. Now she is decisively listening to them. 

"What?"

"Valentine's son. He didn’t die in the fire at the Morgenstern’s mansion as we thought, and, don’t ask me how, but he has Demon's blood in his vein. You see, Consul, he is a Nephilim, and even with his contaminated blood… he can both activate the Sword and use the Cup to derune us all."

At that moment, a red-haired woman and an African American man burst into the Consul's office.

"Jia! Clary has never arrived in Johannesburg… She's still here, in Idris… she's at Lake Lyn… We need to go."

Alec hears Magnus whisper a curse that no one would dare to utter in the Consul's presence, but… whatever. He is not wrong. The two men look and nod at each other, with the same resolute expression on their tense faces.

"Let's go. Maybe it's not too late. Jonathan doesn’t have the Cup, after all." Magnus says, whirling his hand to open a portal. Maybe he can’t obliterate the Nephilim kind, but he can still hurt Clary and open a rift to Edom. No Demon Tower in Alicante could protect the city then.

Alec braces himself to jump into the light with the Warlock, thinking once again that it’s true… He is going to die, isn’t he? Well, it doesn’t matter. It’s for a good cause. They will stop Johnathan Morgenstern at any cost. He and Magnus together.

[thelovelybitten]

vera’s first watch of south park — season six (part 1)

i’m blazing thru these seasons like it’s nothing omg. happy tho, i like it more and more each day.

EPISODE 1:

new intro ???? the old one will be missed

TIMMY TIMMY TIMMY TIMMY best part of the new intro

THE BUTTERS SHOW GHBGBFDJ HE’S SO JFKBSKJD

butters why are u in kenny’s sweater

oh. that’s why

stan still referring to butters as kenny haha

kyle spitting facts. once again

STAN NOT THE LYING

KYLE TRYING NOT TO LAUGH

THEN THEY ALL WATCHING CARTMAN ON THE PHONE

nah butters was real for saying no

“kenny would have done it.” STAN NOT THE PEER PRESSURE GOOD LORD

y’all is gaslighting him >:(

oh my god.

poor butters :’(

the three boys are so terrible for this

like poor baby boy

oh no oh NO BUTTERS IS IN FOR IT

the BOYS ARE SO MEAN

BUTTERS IS SO FUCKING REAL FOR CALLING OUT THE BOYS

oh fuck the largest PUTT PUTT GOLF COURSE ?? butters winning as he should

oh god butters gonna be grounded for a decade

CARTMAN FDJBKBFDSKFS HE LOOKS SO SILLY

i know cartman ain’t abt to beat up his lovely mother BC IT’S ON SIGHT

what the FUCK CARTMAN

WHATEVER, WHATEVER THANK YOU TIKTOK

this 4 month child is wild

WHAT IS THIS MELODY BUTTERS ??#?2/31?

EPISODE 2:

i miss the old intro

wait kenny isn’t in the postcard

so he’s actually dead dead??? FUCK :’(

STOP CALLING BUTTERS KENNY >:(

i hate how they making butters do all this shit god it’s sad

wait what the fuck

EW DON’T MAKE BUTTERS EAT HIS OWN-

I’MMA THROW UP NOW

it’s AIDES NOT AIDS GOD DAMMIT

oh no butters i hope he slims down for his own sanity

cartman. don’t talk to butters to like that u are no different jackass

GUYS STOP

U ARE 9 YEARS OLD U CANNOT PERFROM LIPOSUCTION SURGERY

honestly if this gets graphic i’m skipping thru it

CARTMAN EW WHAT THE FUCK

this is so fucked up i can’t condone this my sons are feral and i wanna protect butters so badly

HE’S LITERALLY DYING CHRIS

OH LORD.

i’m so disappointed with my kids rn

like poor fuckin butters he’s so baby and he’s being bullied

what the hell oh my god the sign

butters gets beat by his own parents??? god the trauma for butters

EPISODE 3:

god this is almost unwatchable

TAKE ON ME SO REAL

where is miss liane ???

i’m so sad rn

also irritated

IKE !!!! HE’S LITTLE SKI FIT

can we get the shit off of butters’ face

OH NO IKE MY BABY

FRENCH FRIES, PIZZA

stan is like. wtf

I KNOW UR NOT SHITTING ON MY BEST SON, MY FAVE SON

stan is so unbothered as he should

the parents JUST WANNA SKI

heather?

STAN IS 8 BFFR

EVERYONE AND THEIR MOTHERS WATCHING STAN RACE LMAO

STAN IS SO BABY FJBKDBFKDSKG

BUTTERS BUSTIN IT DOWN AS HE SHOULD HE ATE THOSE 4 SECONDS

stan: :| he’s so unfazed

AYO ???? I’M WORRIED FOR STANLEY

he’s GOT HEATHER ???

YOU DONT EVEN KNOW HEATHER

i wish wendy was the female lead fucking missed opportunity

let’s GO SKIER!STAN

hc: stan is so athletic, football? baseball? skiing? HE IS A BEAST

i also hc stan being good at hockey too

let’s GO STAN MY BOYYYY

kyle looking at a picture of him and stan style crumbs

stan is doing so well i love him

NOT THE TITS KNSGBSBSD

stan main slayer

so FUCKING WEIRD

EPISODE 4:

okay boys this show is. a choice.

SHELLY WATCHING BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER SO REAL AND TRUE OF HER

y’all robbing butters

OOP. CARTMAN.

BUTTERS IS STILL HOLDING SHELLY’S TAMPONS GSKBDSGBKS

kids YOU CAN’T GO INTO A BAR

boat going through anger management i would too

DAMN SHELLY GOING THRU IT

i feel u miss girl, i feel u.

lord LMAOOOOOO

*immediately calls clyde* so FUCKING VALID

EPISODE 5:

my fucking KIDS I HAVE MISSED THEM SO

YO WHAT THE FUCK NOT THE CASUAL BEHEADING

SAVE THE BBY COWS

KYLE DON’T DO IT

cartman is A FREAK

kyle destroying cartman as he should

stan in HIS LITTLE SPY SUIT

“we have to carry them one by one” is carrying TWO AT A TIME

stan fighting his parents SO SLAY OF HIM

KYLE ATE TOO

oh no BUTTERS U GOT THIS

BUTTERS NAMED ALL THE COWS OMG A BABY

LIANE A QUEEN

stan becoming a vegan??? he won’t last i’m sorry

craig’s FAMILY JKFDSNJKFDKS

i love dogs thank u for ur service

cartman IS SLAYING FOR THIS

8 FUCKING DAYS HOLY SHIT

stan looks so bad omg

wtf

TOLD Y’ALL HE COULDN’T BE VEGAN

lowkey this is fuel for my fanfic

[thegoldenlily]

I loved Sydney's energy in Last Sacrifice where Rose was trying to dash into the woods and Dimitri was hotwiring cars and they were both punching people and Sydney just sat there and drank her coffee and wrote fake e-mails to Abe about how boring West Virginia is

Sydney be like:

[grampstaxidermy87]

Tame The Beast

Pairing:Volturi Kings x Shifter!Reader

Requested by the lovely: @transient-colours

Request: Okay so like I'm obsessed with the idea of poly Volturi kings with a shifter reader. Like the idea of the reader resting at the base of their thrones in animal form while trials take place? Mmm. Or when the reader gets restless from being cooped up inside all the time, all four go for a vacation in the wilderness and just let loose? maybe they can meet because the reader is the daughter of a leader of a shifter tribe that has come to form a treaty with the Volturi?

Warning: death, extreme fluff, and slight angst.

An: I am so sorry this took so long darling; I rewrote this so many times and I finally got to a point where I felt comfortable posting. I hope you enjoy my lovelies!

Soft chuffs of bliss vibrated in the ears of the immortals as they stood in their places around the throne room, many wore an expression of adoration as they chose to listen to that instead of the pitiful pleading of those on trial throughout the day.

Once the doors shut on yet another guilty party being taken to the dungeons Marcus let out a huff to release his growing aggravation, his tense expression softened immediately when he felt a pressure on his lap.

Turning his attention to the large feline whose head laid happily on his lap, A warm smile pulled at his lips as he began to run his fingers through its fur.

"I’m alright Mia Regina, just one more and then we may retire to my chambers." The Tiger hummed as it looked up at him, ensuring his words were truthful so she wouldn’t need to worry.

To unknowing witnesses, seeing a jungle cat in Volterra Italy surrounded by bloodthirsty vampires, you'd be rightfully alarmed.

But to any who lived in the supernatural world, this was the most important creature on the planet. Protected by not only the vampire race, but any who have met her.

To say she was a well-loved queen would be a horrible understatement, The appearance of a beast she took but inside she held the heart of an angel.

And that heart belonged to the three most feared men on earth.

"My sweet, come to me." Aro called out, beaming when the tigress looked at him.

Marcus growled at him for stealing her attention, watching with a slight pout as she slowly stood and trotted over to the raven-haired king.

Aro leaned downward and took her fluffy cheeks in his hands, pressing his face into her fur as he read through her thoughts of the day.

He chuckled at the quips she had made for a few guilty parties that now were being disposed of in the dungeons furnace, feeling prideful that no one but he was able to hear his queens' witty remarks.

He always found joy in his wife's humor, finding it as a breath of fresh air during on the gloomiest of days.

"As delightful as always my beloved." Pressing a kiss to her snout he leaned back as she moved on to her final lover, who did not bother to hide his mischievous smirk as he eyed her approaching form.

Unbothered as she lifted the front half of her torso up so that her body covered his, completely hidden to those who would enter now.

"Hello Kitty." He teased, biting back his laughter when she huffed at him for the nickname.

"Don't rile her up brother, we still have one last trial to get through and can't have you sitting there with ripped clothes." Aro warned though even he knew when it came to those two, he might as well be talking to a wall.

Ignoring his brothers' words Caius leaned forward and buried his face in the fur of her chest, fingers tangling into her sides as she plopped her head atop his. Panting wildly as he scratched her sweet spots, tail swooshing faster as she tried to keep herself standing.

"You're just jealous that she loves me more." Caius teased earning a growl from his brothers.

-Reader Pov-

As the last trial commenced Caius continued to rake his skilled fingers through my fur as I laid beside his throne listening as Aro's commanding voice filled the air, "We have come to our final decision. Young Ivan for your crimes against your coven and our kind as a whole, you have been sentenced to death. Felix."

Screams of defiance echoed in the marble throne room as the guard followed his king's demand, ridding the criminal vampire of his head.

When Caius's hand left my fur I plopped onto my side, letting out a soft huff at the blissful feeling of the cold across my body. Demetri was standing guard on the other side of my ferocious king, seeing as he was one of my personal guards he was never far.

It had been a little over 5 and a half years since I met my imprints and became queen.

My father wasn't very pleased by this fact since he expected me to take over as the leader of the pack when he passed. But I didn't belong there...my rightful place was right here with my wonderful husbands.

There was only one thing I did not like about my life here in Volterra...the humans.

My tribe resided in the jungles of India it was perfect cover for our kind as we took the form of different jungle cats. But here in Italy there was no way that I could go out without causing a scene, meaning I was stuck cooped up in this castle.

There was only so many times you could run through the same halls before it drove you crazy.

"Il Mio Amore?" My head snapped up to see Marcus watching me with slight worry, leaning forward to peer at me when he noticed that I had been still for too long.

Aro's attention was now on me after hearing his brother's tone, he stood up and knelt down to my side. I looked up tiredly at him as he placed his hands on my cheeks.

His eyes grew distant as his fingers ran through my fur, a yawn rumbled from my throat as I leaned into his touch.

He looked down at me sadly, standing up he looked over at Demetri, "Why don’t you take the queen out to the gardens for some fresh air, we’ll send the twins to stand in for you if you are needed.” Demetri nodded and waited for me to lazily stand up before leading the way out.

Once the doors shut behind us Aro turned back to face his fellow kings. "What did you see brother?” Caius inquired, Worried for his queen and mate.

“It would seem that our darling (Y/n) has been growing rather restless lately.” Aro commented, his brows furrowed as he went over the thoughts of his mate again.

"I have noticed as well, brother...Her animal side craves freedom. Perhaps it is time to take a much-needed break?" Marcus hummed knowing it would be the best option for their queen, and the smiles that formed on his brother's faces assured him they would not argue against it.

“I believe I have a few calls to make.” Aro said bidding his brothers A-dew while he made preparations.

———

“My queen, you can shift back now. I have ensured no one will disturb you.” Demetri stated, placing a black silk slip dress on the stone bench he turned his back to give me privacy while I transformed back.

“Thank you, Demetri. You’re safe to look now.” I spoke smoothly after I pulled the dress over my curves before laying back on the bench.

“Are you alright madame?” The blonde asked walking closer and blocking the sun from blinding me as I looked up at him.

“Just tired darling, nothing to worry about.” He didn't seem convinced but let it be as he looked up at the sky. "It's nice out, wouldn't you rather run around the garden?"

Letting out a hum I covered my face with my arm, "I’m not feeling it today dear; I think I’m just going to sunbathe for a while.”

His brows furrowed in concern, clearly worried by his queens sudden change of character from my usual energetic self.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted Felix signaling him, "Excuse me for one moment my queen.” Not waiting for a reply he sped over to his friends side.

“What happened? Do the kings need me?” Felix shook his head gave him a look before making sure their queen wasn’t listening.

“The kings have an island just outside of Rio, the kings plan on bringing her there for a vacation.” Demetri caught himself before he could gasp, "Oh she is going to love that! Perhaps this is just what she needs to get back to her old self again?”

Felix hummed in agreement, "Let us hope, my friend. For her sake as well as all of ours.”

After another hour I decided to retire to my bedroom, I was surprised however to see my blonde king running around my room throwing my things into suitcases.

"Caius why are you packing my things? Is there a mission?" His head snapped up when I entered the room, a smile that he showed only when we were alone appeared. "No Dearest, not a mission. Come sit."

Motioning to the bed he watched as I walked deeper into the room and sat on the edge.

Appearing in front of me he knelt down and took my hands, Eyes soft as he saw the tiredness in mine.

"We have noticed how restless you've become being stuck in the castle for so long." My smile fell and before I could open my mouth, he sent me a look. "Don't argue because everyone has noticed it, you feel trapped...confined. Something we never wanted you to feel."

He lifted my hands up to his lips, kissing each knuckle with utter worship. "We wish to take you to one of our islands by Rio. The plan is to stay there for a month, to which you will be able to run free and without worry as much as you want."

My eyes widened in awe as his words processed in my mind.

"Oh Caius..." He smiled as tears filled my eyes, pulling me into his tight embrace as he stood up. "I've been so tired..." He hugged me tighter, "I know my love, just know that the next time you feel like this...tell us. We are your mates, your lovers, your husbands. We wish to be there for you as you are for us."

Wiping away my tears he cupped my cheeks and brought me in for a kiss, "We love you more than anything kitty, and I cannot wait to see you in your element."

---

The ocean air hit me like a wave the moment I stepped out of the private jet, shutting my eyes as I soaked in the warmth.

"Darling, would you prefer to go directly to the house or run around a bit first?" Marcus asked as he appeared at my side, happy to see a hint of his wife's true self finally coming back.

"You already know which one I'll pick don't you?" His only answer was a smirk, holding out his hand I quickly shed my jewelry and cape and handed them to him.

"Go wild my love." Placing a kiss on his lips I laughed happily before running.

Rips and tears filled the air as I shifted, falling to all fours as I ran faster. Time seemed to slow as the wind slipped through my fur, a feeling of bliss that I haven't felt in a long time.

This sense of relief...not having to fear being seen by humans.

God had I missed this feeling.

----

"I suppose we do not need to fear if we made the right choice or not." Aro hummed as he and Caius joined their brothers side.

"I doubt we do, Look at her..." Caius stated watching their wife in awe.

Marcus hummed in agreement, "She is finally herself again, our beautiful (Y/n)."