Hi! I'm Thalassa, |30|, she/they pronouns are both cool. Welcome to my not-at-all-organised selfship villain blog. Asks and Requests are CLOSED for now!
Welcome! I write headcannons and x reader content for villains across a multitude of franchises, but mostly Disney, Transformers and the Darksiders video game. Detailed list is below!
NOTE this is my fun blog for funsies. I’m only going to write for characters I know about and am interested in. If I don’t know a requested character then the request will be gracefully declined.
Since this is also a self ship blog my F/O's are indicated in the list below. If we share an F/O then fantastic! We can obsess over them together. Any negativity or weird possessive behavior over a fictional character will be blocked/deleted.
I will also not be writing any rape, incest, greivous bodily harm etc.
if you see me liking contradicting headcanons for the same character just know it's because I do not give a fuck and I have an active imagination #hewouldsaythat
WOW I'm actually quite surprised with you, Gaston! And again, it is a good point...! The fact that he does kinda acknowledge that -- and acknowledges himself among the bad guys -- does lead me to have a sort of admiration for him!
Good on ya' Gaston... But this *is* a trial for Jafar. 😅
... The thing that gets me though is, both Jafar and the Lorekeeper are kinda in the same boat -- and while Jafar is kinda rightfully under scrutiny, Lorekeeper kinda got the "Poor Nana" treatment.
Here is my catalogue for TFN2026! I will be there all weekend!
I hope everyone likes my stuff, I think the array this year is quite nice : ) I will have old stock from last year on the table aswell, alongside a couple of bits that I couldn't quite fit in the catalogue.
A question I have been BURNING to have answered when looking at your models of Hoki with his hood down (hot. Impeccable. 10/10 love your models) how. How is he getting that thing off without tearing it. How is he putting it back on without flappy torn bits everywhere. In the film it looks like they burst from his skull through the fabric and he was just stuck in that hood ever since.
... Let's be real: that hood is not coming off unless he lifts his robes up. 😅
Because yeah, the hood is part of the robe itself. There's no way he's getting the hood off, unless the robe comes off first -- or is at least lifted up enough to where he can flip it back.
It's called the Global Justice Report, it is here. This is an actionable plan which can be sent to legislators and demanded of political parties. We could save the world within our lifetimes.
It has always been possible. It is still possible.
Alrighty! This is Kraken Guard reporting! Just on the way back home from vacation -- still got a lot of gifs to make for Creeper when I get back, and I gotta figure out my verses for these two -- BUT! I am available!
Again, this is Kraken Guard, if anyone is interested in writing with the Horned King or Creeper, please, reblog! Spread word!
Hades x y/n but like. Platonically. Like Hades and y/n as besties and all the shenanigans he would drag you into lmao
Y'know I almost never get platonic asks, this was delightful.
Platonic!Hades & Reader: Shenanigans
Oracle of the dead. Priest/ess. Acolyte.
These are the roles bestowed upon you as the sole Soul responsible for the Necromanteion of Acheron. Very important roles. Full of godly veneration, and pomp, and…uh…certainly some circumstances.
Look- temples to Hades were never exactly in high demand, and this site was long past it’s heyday. What once would have been a small villages worth of operations had been downsized to pretty much just you running things as much as you could without dropping dead yourself.
Occasionally the priests and priestesses of other temples stop by, wincing at you sympathetically. You wonder, in between cleaning up sacrificial goats blood and patting tearful visitors on the head, if their gods take any notice of the gold edged, silk lined, overtly poetic show their priests put on. Seems like they have their hands full with sacred duties out the wazoo.
You’re not sure if any of their duties include fig & wine nights to bitch with your deity until 3 in the morning.
“No no no – just- repeat that-” Hades sniggers into his worm mimosa, the both of you sat around the firepit several drinks deep. “You did what to one of Ares’ generals?”
You grin maniacally, drink sloshing as you gesture to the elaborate crane system hidden in the roof above you both.
“Ok ok ok – so I got word that General McBig-shot was heading up to consult his dead Grandpappy or whatever-” you gesture dismissively. “- about if the next battle would go well or if he was going to end up decapitated and used as a desk ornament, as you do. But I summoned up the old man – thanks for that by the way -” He flashes you a burning thumbs up that coincidentally roasts some of the insects on the ceiling. “ - and he flat out told me that he had no interest advising said general because the guy went and shacked up with some pretty Roman legionnaire last campaign.”
“Oy, Ouch.” Hades rolled his eyes, still sore over the whole ‘Pluto’ naming debacle in his new follower base across the sea. You pat his knee idly.
“I know, stupid name, can’t believe they’re getting away with it, I agree. Anyway – old man gave me the go ahead to traumatise this general because crossing faction lines is only excused in this family if you’re topping when you commit treason. So I go Full Oracle, eyes rolled back, smoke everywhere, rejigged the old theatre crane to lift me up and drift me about a bit – told him he’s not going to win any fucking battles if he’s following his dick out into shooting distance and to stay with his fucking army this time.”
Hades chokes on a worm and spends a good minute – very godly-ly - coughing up a lung.
The Necromanteion of Acheron, as one of many entrances to the underworld and where three of it’s rivers originate, is technically a site perfect for necromancy. Since Hades never allows full on resurrections, you get a lot of folks just coming to speak to dead loved ones or ask for advice.
It’s not that you don’t have sympathy, but the customer service schtick got old LONG ago.
At least when Hades visits it’s only 75% of the time because he needs to add to your workload.
The rest of the time it’s because you have completed the most sacred duty you have: getting the eternally overworked Lord of the Dead to take a few hours off.
In no particular order, you and the sharp minded, sleazy, secretly very very childish God of the Underworld have:
Taken Cerberus on a multitude of mildly disastrous walks
Taken pot shots at ghosts that have escaped the underworld and ranked your scores based on how hard you can concuss a ghost.
Barricaded the temple so you can watch tartarus vision (TV) together and yell at the screen about other peoples terrible decision making.
Prank called other gods at their temples and run away.
Watched Hades eat different elements to change his flame colour and gag at the taste. (You won a bet and still maintain the purple flames were the best. Hades flatly told you that if you ever tried to make him eat pot ash again you’d have a new job eternally trying to redirect the Styx with a spoon.)
Hosted the international death gods support group; lowkey seemed like everyone in this profession got the godly short end of the stick and needed to vent, but you didn’t expect Odin to immediately clock Hades as a fellow schemer and declare him far better company than his brother. Hades was floating on that high for months.
One memorable incident wherein Hades ruthlessly picked apart your clothes, your house, your altar and your – well, everything - and dumped a few raw fist sized gems worth more than half the land around the temple into your lap without even waiting for you to pick your jaw up off the floor. “If you needed petty cash just ask next time – sheesh- my own Oracle walking around in rags…”
Gathered every blanket and throw you had, until Hades snorted at your paltry mortal provisions and snapped in some heavy blankets fit for royalty. Who needs a normal job when you can have a godly sleepover?
One night where Hades, distinctly more uncomfortable looking than usual, shoved a scroll in your hands – jabbered at you like a broken water fountain as you read it, and teleported away as soon as you looked up at him in shock at the new contract in your hands.
A guaranteed resurrection clause upon your death. Anywhere you like.
You prick one finger and press a bloody fingerprint to the section meant for your name.
You’re not sure where else you’d go. The next priest would likely get the bestie duties wrong. Can’t have that.
[ID: king haggard’s castle from the last unicorn (1982), the horned king’s castle from the black cauldron (1985), and maleficent’s castle from sleeping beauty (1959) /end ID]
