will byers stan first human second
Mike Driver
Cosimo Galluzzi
art blog(derogatory)
ojovivo
Xuebing Du
we're not kids anymore.
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
h
almost home
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Misplaced Lens Cap
Show & Tell
Claire Keane
trying on a metaphor
@theartofmadeline
🪼
Game of Thrones Daily
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
shark vs the universe
seen from Mexico
seen from Mexico
seen from Mexico
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
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seen from Malaysia
seen from Canada
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@huntedprofessor
Independent multiverse sideblog for Falling Skies' Tom Mason. A history professor turned survivor, fighting every day against impossible odds to keep his head above water. Themes include horror, violence, gore, and grief. Main verses are Falling Skies and Supernatural.
Rules | Memes | Verses | Open Starters | IC writing
Sideblog | follows from @theprisonerofasgard
OTHER MUSES
SPN Castiel | SPN OC Bern | Multifandom OC Fritz | MCU Loki | MultiMuse
Mun 30+ | Written by Bowie
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R☆ckstar☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆: the boombox dies down and the guitars no longer sing. Lestat is the last one to leave the venue, disappointing his band with yet another rain check. He has been tasked with staring in the mirror, wiping off his make up and glitter stuck in his dyed hair. The wisps of blue tangle with gilded tresses and Lestat rakes his fingers through them, prying them aside. His throat is hoarse from the finale. He screamed his dark heart out until he bled from his eyes. Tonight is somewhat special: an anniversary of his death.
One of. Not the throat-cutting kind. Not the comas. Not the vampiric depression. No, it is the night when his Maker made it known to him that Lestat will die. He sheds his costume, left in a pair of yellow leather pants and a simple black blouse. His scar peers through the deep V-cut as he shoves the door open with his boot. Lestat exits the venue around back while tossing his hand over his shoulders to tie the unruly tresses back into a low ponytail. He makes it across the parking lot with a sway in his step. He chugged a bottle of wine mixed with blood to make it bearable. Cheap shit, he hates him. He asked Larry to get a box of Bordeaux and the guitarist forgot on purpose. Lestat corvette is located on the opposite side of the lot, as far away from the crazed fans' eyes as possible.
He fishes his keys from inside of his back pocket, aware of a softly beating heart someplace nearby. The vampire doesn't pay attention. He just wants to get home and shove a line of cocaine up his nose to feel something while taking a long, bubble bath. At a mere thought of it, the vampire groans as he rips the door open and slides inside of his vehicle. The bottle of cheap wine is shoved into the cup holder while Lestat searches for his sunglasses around the passenger seat. He hates the glare of the artificial beams at night. It burns his retinas, causing bleeding pain every dusk.
The door opening had Tom's back straighten, and a few layers of fatigue lifted. His car was in the far corner of the lot, a long way off from the corvette that could only belong to one man.
A boot was what sent the double doors crashing apart, and Tom watched Lestat leave with mounting alarm bells in the back of his mind. The vampire already looked pissed. He'd already gone out of his way to make sure even adoring fans couldn't bother him, bottle in one hand, keys in the other, determined to take himself anywhere but there. Nothing in that body language screamed happy to help. This was the guy he thought might know something about what killed his family? Even if he did, what reason did he have to share it with a hunter? What version of that would be more satisfying than opening one of his arteries?
I'm not getting closure in hell.
Tom was shaking his head as he stuffed the scope in his bag and turned the engine on his jeep. Nope. Nope. this was a bad idea. Maybe even one of his worst. Tom had nothing to offer that Lestat couldn't simply take, and that was if the vampire even bought that he wasn't there as a hunter. The jeep's headlights were left off as he navigated to the exit, and it wasn't until hitting the actual street that they were flared to life, lighting the turn that would eventually carry him back to his motel. Nothing close thanks to this damn concert filling up every option for miles, but that was for the better. Tom was exhausted, and at his wit's end, and maybe he'd find another lead another day.
THE LIRBARIANS (2014–2018) 'And the Trial of the Triangle'
Tom and John Pope should have hatefucked, it got to the point where it was weird that they didn't
Falling Skies, 2x02 | "Shall We Gather at the River"
That face you make when the most insufferable person you know simply will not die.
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I haven't finished falling skies yet but I have so much appreciation for John Pope's eternal frustration and awareness of the Mason family plot armor. That man knew he had to cause enough conflict to stay relevant in Tom's life, but not enough to make him a villain who needed to be outright killed. While also working with him enough to be considered redeemable, but not to the point where Tom would be gutted if he died. You can't tell me that mf wasn't walking that fine line on purpose, knowing damn well it would get him further in the narrative than he had any right to go
🐝 * ― 𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑺𝑻𝒀 𝑪𝑨𝑵'𝑻 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.
❛ i can't be the person you want me to be. ❜ ❛ i can't be the only one fighting for this. ❜ ❛ i can't be the reason you hate yourself. ❜ ❛ i can't do this anymore, but i don't know how to stop. ❜ ❛ i can't do this if you don't trust me. ❜ ❛ i can't hate you, and that's the worst part. ❜ ❛ i can't keep loving a ghost. ❜ ❛ i can't keep waiting for you to choose me. ❜ ❛ i can't look at you the same way anymore. ❜ ❛ i can't lose you, too. ❜ ❛ i can't make you love me. ❜ ❛ i can't sleep without thinking about what happened. ❜ ❛ i can't stop thinking about the way you left. ❜ ❛ i can't tell you the truth without losing you. ❜ ❛ i can't tell you to stay when i know you want to leave. ❜ ❛ can't you hear yourself? ❜ ❛ can't you just do me this one favor? ❜ ❛ can't you lie to me, just this once? ❜ ❛ can't you please just listen? ❜ ❛ can't you see that i'm trying? ❜ ❛ can't you stay, just for tonight? ❜ ❛ can't you stop pushing me away for five seconds? ❜ ❛ can't you tell i'm scared? ❜ ❛ can't you understand that i needed you? ❜ ❛ can't we go back to before everything changed? ❜ ❛ can't we just be friends? ❜ ❛ can't we just have one normal night? ❜ ❛ can't we pretend, just for a little while longer? ❜ ❛ can't we try again? ❜ ❛ you can't ask me to stay after everything you did. ❜ ❛ you can't decide how you want me now. ❜ ❛ you can't erase what happened. ❜ ❛ you can't fix this with an apology. ❜ ❛ you can't just show up here without calling first. ❜ ❛ you can't keep punishing me for surviving. ❜ ❛ you can't leave like that and expect me to still be here when you come back. ❜ ❛ you can't love someone only when it's easy. ❜ ❛ you can't promise forever when you can't even promise tomorrow. ❜ ❛ you can't save me from this. ❜ ❛ you can't say you love me and then disappear. ❜
casually losing my mind over his facial expressions here
RESURRECTIONS, BOTH GOOD AND BAD | accepting
ever since i died, i've been feeling sort of strange. | @gravegotten
"Only 'sort of?' That's got to be more of a good sign than bad, right?" Tom wasn't a seasoned veteran, hunting wasn't his life's work. In fact, he'd spent the vast majority of it in blissful ignorance of the horrible things that went bump in the night. But, he wasn't sure he'd ever be used to people who just... came back. It was probably a good thing he hadn't known it was a possibility back in 2003, when he had no less than three reasons to give resurrection a try.
"What's giving you trouble, if you don't mind me asking?" Lucy was too solid for a ghost, too self-aware for a revenant, and too sane for a zombie. If she hadn't admitted to being undead, and if it weren't for the perpetual chill that followed her every move, Tom might have never guessed at all. "It's alright if you do. You don't owe me an explanation."
Chance meeting | @garglemyballsack
Cities were still difficult for Tom Mason to manage. Difficult, because they were still standing. Intact, open, occupied. It was hard to look at the functional society, and not see the bombed, hollowed-out graveyard that was Boston. Leveled at the center, save for a few twisted remnants that rose from the ruined earth like a half-eaten carcass. Walking one of the few open streets was an invitation to get shot, or worse. Ripped open. By creatures the people milling past him on the sidewalk couldn't imagine. And he wouldn't want them to. It wasn't this world, this universe, that was under attack. It was the one he'd been ripped out of. Fighting that war had led to the leader of the opposition so sick of his leadership, his refusal to lay down and accept defeat, that she'd spent god knows how much power and resources to beam him here, like it was the USS Enterprise. Except, no one had to be welded into the transporter.
And it hurt like hell.
Hands shoved in his pockets, tall frame slightly hunched, Tom walked on. Wasn't even sure where he was going. Boots carried him to a crosswalk, and when his gaze lifted, every muscle in Tom's body locked. Brown eyes wide and fixed on a young blonde woman on the other side of the street. Hair tugged back in a ponytail, face framed by fringe, looking for all the world like just another person in New York. Because she was. Tom thought seeing his wife alive would rock him. This was not his deceased wife, but Karen. His eldest son's girlfriend, taken by the enemy and made into a monster. Except, this world had fast-forwarded 10 years, and this Karen was older. Healthy. Not melded to a parasite that dug its hooks into her brain stem and spinal cord. Not the woman who tortured him, killed people he loved, and sent him here.
Some dim part of his brain thought he was still on the sidewalk, not on the street itself. Tom was still frozen when a car horn consumed his world, and a rough hand yanked the back of his coat from behind hard enough to knock the wind right out of him.
"Sorry—" Tom kept his footing and still tried to find Karen in the crowd, but she was gone. Brown eyes turned instead to the stranger. "Thanks for that, I owe you one." Tom's senses had come back in full swing, like Karen had stretched them like a rubber band, and he couldn't help the slight flicker of recognition. This guy looked like photos he'd seen on a library computer. Unless this world was just full of similarly attractive men.
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More Wyle Tummy!!
(Thank you @basiate-culam-meam for finding the episode!!)
Let's get rough : Prompts for manhandling and other rough situations
(Throat) - sender grabs reciever by their throat
(jaw) - sender takes hold of recievers jaw harshly
(wrist) - sender has hold of recievers wrist / wrists
(twist) - sender twists reciever's arms behind their back
(bind) - sender restrains reciever with item of choice
(pull) - sender pulls reciever roughly to them
(drag) - sender drags reciever to / away from something
(hair) - sender pulls or controls receiver by their hair
(pin) - sender pins reciever to the wall
(knife) - sender uses a knife against reciever as a threat
(nick) - sender nicks reciever with a knife
(push) - sender pushes reciever roughly
(eyes) - sender forces receiver to look at them
(neck) - sender grabs the back of reciever's neck
(smack) -sender slaps reciever
(grip) - sender grabs reciever by their shirt
(gag) - sender forces reciever to stay quiet (with hand or with a gag)
(strike) - sender hits reciever with their hand or other item
(kneel) - sender forces reciever to kneel
I got that dog in me. (Waiting at your door till you come home.)
Julia Soboleva, “Reunion”
VERSES / ABOUT
Name: Tom Mason
Height: 6'1" / 1.86m
Sexuality: Bisexual
Occupations: History professor, 2nd in command of the 2nd Massachusetts, part-time hunter
Family
Rebecca: Wife, deceased in both verses
Hal: Oldest son, alive in main verse, deceased in SPN
Ben: Middle son, alive in main verse, missing in SPN
Matt: Youngest son, alive in main verse, deceased in SPN
Parents: Father: deceased in both. Mother: deceased in main, alive in SPN
verse | exile
Tom thought meeting with Karen would gain him information they needed to end the alien invasion. Instead, her only goal was to remove him from the war in a way that would ensure he suffered. Tom was welded into a machine, and after what felt like the separation of every atom in his body, he woke in a world still intact. A world that wasn't his. Tom is dropped into your muse's universe with nothing but the clothes on his back, harrowing memories of the alien invasion, and fear for the boys he left behind.
verse | the hunter
Set in the Supernatural universe, Boston University history professor Tom Mason was a married father of three young boys when he booked a wooded cabin for their 2003 family vacation. Three days in, the novelty of nature had faded, and his sons begged for pizza instead of fishing. Tom left Rebecca and the boys to head into the nearby town for some frozen pizza, snacks, and movies. A trip that took less than an hour. When he returned, he found broken windows, the door torn off its hinges, and tall six-legged, insect-like monsters standing over the bodies of all but his middle son, who they seemed to be leading away. Tom tried to attack the creatures, but he was knocked unconscious, and woke beside the corpses of his youngest, his oldest, and his wife. Tom hasn't devoted his life to hunting, he continues to teach at Boston University, but his grief lives on in him like a second skin. He hunts when cases are nearby, and branches out to other states during summer and winter breaks. He knows he needs a life beyond revenge, but he still wants to know what killed his family. He has no evidence except photos one of the boys must have taken with the disposable camera he packed for the trip, and no hunter he's met so far has identified what they are. Tom is level-headed, logical, and warm with others, but his bottled anger reaches the surface when a monster is in his sights.
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Situation prompts | accepting
( exhausted ) : too tired to stay standing, too stubborn to lie down | @eladead
Tom knew the risk. He knew a vampire had every reason to rip his head from his shoulders just for being a hunter. Yet, even louder than self-preservation was another voice in the back of his mind. One that whispered that something as old as this vampire might have the answers he needed. Answers he'd been chasing since the day he found the shredded remains of his family in a cabin full of monsters he'd never been able to identify. Him, or any hunter he'd come across.
Was knowing what killed them worth dying for? There was every chance he might.
The history professor rubbed at his heavy, aching eyes from the driver's seat of his car. He'd been there most of the night, scouting, hoping to catch sight of this enigma of a man. How far had he driven to get there? How long had it been since he slept?
Too damn long.
If things turned ugly, he was in no shape to deal with it. Self-preservation made yet another weak attempt to turn that car around, send it back to a motel room, but Tom stayed where he was. Just waiting, watching nothing but the entrance.
PROMPTS FOR RESURRECTIONS, BOTH GOOD AND BAD * assorted dialogue for that moment when a character comes back to life... but did they come back as themselves, or did something go wrong? adjust as necessary
how long was i out?
it was dark, and i heard voices. i was trying to get out.
don't look at me. i don't want you to see me like this.
tell me the truth. how long was i gone?
who brought me back?
i don't remember what happened. one second i was there, and the next...
you were out for quite some time.
don't worry. i've got you.
i saw you die.
i can't live with myself if you're gone.
i don't know how to function without you here.
wipe those tears away.
i'm right here! there's no need to cry.
something feels off about you.
are you sure you're all right?
you don't sound like yourself.
that wasn't supposed to happen like that.
your death was all my fault.
i never should have gone in there alone.
can you please tell me what happened?
no one is telling me how i died.
i didn't hear anything while i was out.
that was a bit weird.
i'll be fine. just have to deal with this nasty bump on my head.
is that my blood or someone else's?
you were not supposed to do this.
he was supposed to stay dead!
this was never meant to happen this way.
i think you made a mistake in coming back.
i can't live without you.
i'd really like to avoid dying again if i can help it.
is this the first time you've died?
there must be something we can do to bring them back.
i think i can heal them.
death is only the beginning.
maybe you should have stayed dead.
is that really you?
don't ever leave my sight again.
there you are! welcome back! how was it, being dead?
did you see god?
are you the one i should blame?
let's just hope there aren't any consequences to this.
you never should have interfered.
i don't really feel like myself.
ever since i died, i've been feeling sort of strange.
that's what death does. it puts things into perspective.
is death something we should be able to reverse in the first place?
this is a very bad idea.
why can't you just stay dead?
please reverse the spell.
i'm not ready to say goodbye.
