#but I guess that's a good problem to have overall

[leifyposting]

y'all i finally figured out what's going on with diluc's tcg deck

a little while ago i made this post about mond trio playing tcg, because jean and kaeya's decks make sense but diluc's doesn't - he has razor and xiangling in his deck, neither of whom synergize with him, and no healer for some reason??

then i thought about it a little bit more and now i think diluc's deck is actually an excellent representation of his character: because tcg is a game that revolves around a team and diluc is a man who is used to fighting alone

ok let me explain

^ first things first! this is the diluc card. the diluc card is a hypercarry, which means you want him on the field as much as possible. there is nothing diluc wants more than to use his skill and use it often - and for good reason! if you use his skill 3 times in one round, it deals a total of 11 damage, which is insane if you consider that each character card only has 10 health. he can basically solo a character in one round!

there's just one problem. using diluc's skill 3 times requires a total of 9 dice... and you only get 8 dice per round

there are ways to get around this, and diluc's support cards are absolutely laser-focused on making sure he can use his skill. so much so, in fact, that he doesn't even have any cards that would let him heal himself?? more on that later

the point is: diluc needs all his dice to fuel his attacks. doing literally anything other than attacking (ex. swapping off or healing) would nerf his damage output. this deck is designed for one thing and one thing only: doing as much damage as possible in the shortest amount of time possible

okay now let's talk about his team comp. cause like *waves hands vaguely* what the heck is going on here, man.

^ diluc's teammates are razor (whom he's met like once in canon) and xiangling (whom he's met a grand total of zero times). most characters' tcg decks are comprised of other characters they at least vaguely know. but not diluc's

and this doesn't make sense from a gameplay perspective either. razor is also a hypercarry - he likes his field time as much as diluc does. and although xiangling is a sub-dps who does off-field damage with her burst, her element is the same as diluc's which means she can't trigger reactions with him. neither of them synergize very well with diluc

and i think that's intentional, because xiangling and razor synergize very well with each other. my theory is that these two cards are meant to serve as a kind of "second line of defense" and take over when diluc falls

because the one glaringly obvious issue with diluc's deck is this: he has no way to heal

there are a couple of different healing mechanics in tcg. the most obvious one is to have a healer (which diluc doesn't). the second most obvious one is to have food cards that heal (which diluc doesn't). the third most obvious one is to have location cards that heal (which diluc, you guessed it, doesn't)

if you play diluc as an on-field hypercarry, you'd probably want at least 1 of the above mechanics to, you know, keep him alive. but diluc doesn't have any. and i think that's intentional

because i think the diluc card in this deck is meant to burn brightly but very briefly. i think he's meant to do a ton of damage with his skill, tank the enemies' attacks without healing, and then die. and then xiangling and razor come along after him and finish off the remaining enemies - if there are any left standing

which... you know...

... is not a bad encapsulation of his character overall!

so, you know what, i owe diluc an apology. i was not familiar with his game. this tcg deck is awful if you want to play tcg in the intended way, but it perfectly fits his character and approach to life - because this deck is the deck of a man who only knows how to fight alone

[dakusan]

Hi!! I’m back!!! And with 2 days off?? Can’t wait to rot, but first I just wanted to let you know you’re amazing as always!! I love the newest vamp!skz stories you’ve written and quite frankly the banter/back and forth between the guys is soooo good! I keep re reading and just giggling bc they’re just so funny together. Additionally, I had some questions I want to lay at your feet. I was reading the stuff you’ve put on the main masterlist about vampire babies, and I was wondering about the details of vampires growing up?? How are vampire babies sustained while growing up specifically, I guess? Like, how do abnormals make it to adulthood w/o a bonded stabilizing them? In the case of a human mother, how/why does the father have to be constantly linked with soulmate? How does that work? Does this continue after the child is born since i would assume the mother is now feeding two vampires? As the child ages, who do they feed from? Mom? Dad? Both? Third party? When are they weened? Does an older child feeding from mother/father cause problems for the bonded pair? When are abnormal children “presented” to society since they’re so markedly different from normal vampire babies? Since adult abnormals “hide” in plain sight? Does everybody just pretend the babies are normals to not anger parents? How are childhood tantrums handled? (I just know Chan was a TERRIBLE 3 yr old) Overall it just seems that male vampires and especially abnormals are much more physically involved (as they should be, pregnancy is no joke) in pregnancy/child development and I am desperately curious how it works?? I hope you’re having a wonderful day and that you know you’re awesome!!!

Sincerely, a resident that just got done with handling a messy case involving pregnancy

-🩺

oh, you came back swinging. TWO DAYS OFF? two days to dismantle the anatomy of baby vampires with me? 🩺 anon, you’re speaking my love language. first of all—THANK YOU for the love on the vamp!skz chaos, the boys are menaces and i firmly believe they’ve been bickering since the womb.

now—your QUESTIONS. gods, you didn’t just knock politely; you kicked the door off its hinges

strap in. you’ve just commissioned some long ass vampire content.

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📜 HOW VAMPIRE CHILDREN ARE SUSTAINED

I. FIRST PRINCIPLES: BORN, NOT TURNED

Vampires born into the blood—Normal or Abnormal—grow like any other living creature, but their biology follows a different clock.

Physical aging stops at 21–25. The body matures to full prime (height, musculature, reproductive fitness) before locking.

Mental/emotional aging is accelerated. Even vampire toddlers think in sharper, more instinctive ways than humans. A three-year-old vampire is still a child, but one with predatory imprinting and territorial memory.

The rules of growth depend on bloodline (Normal vs Abnormal) and maternal origin (human or vampire).

II. NORMAL VAMPIRE CHILDREN

(civilized… enough)

Birth to 1 Year

Feeding:

Vampire mother × vampire father: Fed exclusively Cradle Serum for first 2–4 months, then slow introduction of live-fed blood every 4–5 days.

Human mother × vampire father: Hybrid milk for 4 months, then gradual blood introduction.

Fangs: Teething begins at 2–3 months. Baby fangs are functional by 6 months but retract unless stressed or hungry.

1 to 5 Years

Weaning:

By age 1, most Normal vampire children are weaned from maternal serum or hybrid milk. Blood becomes their primary nutrient.

From 1–2 years, they feed every 3–7 days from a parent or trusted donor.

By 3 years, blood bags are introduced (sterilized, usually from family retainers). Blood juice boxes exist—thickened with iron stabilizers, flavoured faintly with spices to mimic fresh bite chemistry.

Behaviour: They bite during play, but mostly as testing behaviour. Tantrums are handled with pheromone calming techniques or small, supervised blood doses.

Growth pace: Normal vampire kids grow slightly slower than human children. A 5-year-old vampire looks closer to a human 4-year-old.

5 to 15 Years

Fully weaned to blood bags, donor feeding on special occasions. Most families switch to bagged blood entirely by age 7–8 to reduce territorial attachment to parents.

Normals are considered “juvenile stable” by age 12—fangs fully matured, instincts tamed enough for basic schooling.

III. ABNORMAL VAMPIRE CHILDREN

(the gods-made-wrong. feral. starving stars.)

Abnormals are a different species wearing the same skin.

Birth to 1 Year

Week 1: They already know serum ≠ blood. They will cry at the scent of iron, bite at anything warm.

Week 1–2: Soulmate blood is REQUIRED to stabilize their magic. If no soulmate exists, Abnormals are fed on carefully rotated, high-lineage donors to mimic bond stability.

Erratic cycles: Some sleep for days (hibernation states), others scream-feed every few hours.

Danger: If denied proper feeding, Abnormal infants collapse—seizures, scream-fits, coma states. Mortality rates were historically high before modern stabilizing techniques.

1 to 5 Years

Still not fully stable. Abnormal toddlers often need blood every 1–3 days. Soulmate blood is still best; without it, their magic “chews” at itself, creating fever-spikes and violent overstimulation.

Tantrums: Feral tantrums are terrifying. Glow-veined screaming, furniture destruction, hunger hallucinations. Many are sedated or ritually calmed by aura-binding with the father or high-ranking Abnormal elders.

Weaning: They do NOT fully wean until age 5–6—and even then, live-fed blood remains a core diet. Blood bags are tolerated only if mixed with live-fed serum for scent stabilization.

5 to 15 Years

By 7–8, Abnormals can tolerate controlled bag-blood for day-to-day feeding. But rage cycles continue until puberty; most still feed live every few weeks for stability.

Many Abnormals fake Normal feeding patterns in public to avoid political attention.

IV. ADOLESCENCE (12–25)

Both Normals and Abnormals experience a predatory puberty spike around 12–15 years old:

Hunger increases, blood-drinking becomes tied to emotional regulation (stress, sexual awakening, territorial behavior).

Abnormals stabilize gradually if soulmate bonds begin forming, though full control doesn’t settle until ~20–25.

By 21–25, growth halts entirely. Fangs, bone structure, and aura lock into permanent adult form.

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📜 HOW ABNORMALS MAKE IT TO ADULTHOOD WITHOUT A SOULMATE

I. THE PROBLEM

Abnormals are born half-feral, half-divine—a magical system designed to anchor itself to one soul. Without that bond, their magic chews inward, eating at flesh, brain, and aura like a starving thing.

Infancy: Collapse states, seizures, and coma spells if unstabilized.

Childhood: Rage cycles and blood fever; some Abnormal toddlers have bitten through their own tongues mid-tantrum.

Adolescence: Magic overload peaks—abnormal teens without stabilizers either die in rage seizures, go fully feral, or fall into long hibernations (sometimes for decades).

Yet most still survive. Here’s how.

II. THE WORKAROUNDS – STABILITY WITHOUT SOULMATES

1. ROTATIONAL DONOR SYSTEM

Modern Abnormal families use high-lineage donor rotations to mimic soulmate stabilization.

Why lineage matters: Old bloodlines carry strong, “clean” magic signatures that temporarily soothe the Abnormal aura.

How it works:

Infants are fed from 3–5 carefully selected donors whose blood is mixed to a consistent scent profile.

Donors are often related to one another (sibling sets, parent-child pairs) to create genetic similarity.

Over time, the Abnormal “imprints” on this blended profile, buying stability until maturity.

Limitations: It’s temporary. Rage cycles still happen, and the child may reject donors unpredictably.

2. AURA-BINDING RITUALS (the old ways)

Before modern donor systems, Abnormals were stabilized through ritual bindings—still used in some old families.

Process: A high-ranking Abnormal (often the father or elder) performs a partial aura lock with the child.

Effects:

Keeps magic from turning inward.

Forces the elder’s steadier aura to “feed” the child’s unstable one.

Cost: It drains the elder. In some families, it killed fathers outright before the child turned five.

Feral side effect: Children raised this way often develop obsessive attachment to their bound elder. In some historical cases, adult Abnormals have killed rivals for “stealing” that stabilizer.

3. HIBERNATION STATES

Abnormals whose magic tips too far inward naturally fall into coma-like hibernations—a self-preservation mechanism.

Cycles: They may sleep for weeks or months, waking only to feed.

Risks: Prolonged hibernation can stunt growth or leave permanent aura scars.

Historically: Some Abnormals didn’t wake for years, only re-emerging in late adolescence.

4. EARLY ARRANGED BONDS

In old vampire courts, Abnormal stability was sometimes ensured through arranged soulmate courtships—mated as young as adolescence.

Brutal truth: Families traded children like pawns, hoping a natural bond would spark.

Success rate: Rare. True soulmates can’t be forced. Failed pairings often ended with rage-homicides or permanent psychological scarring.

III. LONG-TERM EFFECTS OF NO SOULMATE

Abnormals who reach adulthood unbonded are… altered.

Temperament: They remain more volatile than bonded counterparts, even in “calm” states.

Hunger cycles: Their magic never fully quiets—they’re always just a little bit starving.

Still, some learn to control it through discipline, ritual, or sheer willpower. Chan, for instance, would’ve been a feral hurricane as a child, but by adulthood, training + control = his own version of stability.

IV. FUN FACT: WHY SO FEW MAKE IT

Abnormal survival rates used to be abysmal. Before Luxe Health and modern donor techniques:

50% mortality before age 5

30% went fully feral before adolescence

Only ~20% made it to adulthood unbonded

V. MODERN ABNORMAL CHILDHOOD SURVIVAL

Thanks to Luxe Health & modern techniques, the game has changed dramatically.

1. Rotational Donor Systems Are Standard

Almost every Abnormal child is now placed on a regulated donor program from birth—carefully monitored for magic compatibility.

Luxe Health-developed “scent calibration serums” keep donors’ blood chemically consistent, tricking the Abnormal’s body into believing it’s feeding from the same individual, which reduces rage cycles.

2. Aura Therapy

Specialized aura therapists (often Abnormal elders) now help infants and toddlers regulate their magic by teaching micro-resonance techniques, even before they can speak.

Think vampire baby yoga, but feral—lots of humming, soft chanting, and controlled scent exposure to teach the child to “anchor” to calming frequencies.

3. Emergency Rage Protocols

Blood fever episodes are now treated with micro-dosed sedative serums + live-fed stabilizers within minutes.

Hospitals like Luxe Health’s Cradle Wings are equipped to handle feral toddler tantrums without harming the child’s aura.

VI. TEENAGE YEARS WITHOUT A SOULMATE

Most teens won’t meet their soulmate, and their magic is at its worst during puberty.

1. Stabilizer Bonds (Not Romantic)

Teens are often assigned temporary “Stabilizer Bonds”—trusted family members, retainers, or even aura-trained professionals who act as magic regulators.

These stabilizers live nearby, provide live-fed blood weekly, and act as an “emotional anchor” until the teen can self-regulate.

2. Training & Discipline

Abnormal teens now undergo mandatory rage-state training, learning to channel feral surges into physical movement or blood-controlled meditation.

Chan, for example, spent years in training programs, learning to force his magic inward without destroying himself.

VII. LONG-TERM EFFECTS WITHOUT SOULMATES – MODERN VS OLD

Old Era (Pre-Luxe)

Unbonded Abnormals were volatile for life, starving in their own skin, many dying before 25.

Modern Era

With proper training, donor stability, and therapy, most Abnormals can reach adulthood functional and relatively stable—though:

They’re still “hungry” inside. Nothing replaces a soulmate bond.

Many carry chronic low-level blood fever or aura scarring until bonded.

Emotional regulation remains harder—most unbonded Abnormals are quicker to anger, even when trained.

VIII. FUN FACT – WHY ABNORMALS NOW LIVE LONGER

Survival Rate Update: ~85–90% now reach adulthood, even unbonded.

Average Age Before Bonding: 40–70 years for Abnormals (many don’t meet their soulmate until they’ve already been alive for decades).

Social Impact: This has created a whole “feral-but-functional” generation of unbonded Abnormals—lethal, controlled, but still just a little starved inside.

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📜 THE HUMAN MOTHER DILEMMA – WHY THE FATHER MUST BE CONSTANTLY LINKED

I. THE BIOLOGICAL CURSE OF HUMAN MOTHERS

When a human carries a vampire child, her body is rewritten.

Gestational Rewrite: The fetus’ magic forcibly reprograms the mother’s biology to produce hybrid milk (for Normals) or blood-rich serum (for Abnormals). This isn’t just hormonal—her organs temporarily mimic vampiric traits.

Heart rate slows.

Hemoglobin density rises.

Mammary glands alter to carry blood proteins + pheromonal scent markers.

The Bonded Blood Loop: This rewrite doesn’t run on its own—it’s powered by the father’s aura. A vampire father is essentially plugged into her system 24/7, stabilizing the rewrite so she doesn’t die.

If the father is absent:

The rewritten biology malfunctions—milk curdles black, tissue necrosis can set in.

The mother begins suffering blood loss, migraines, and heart arrhythmias because her body can’t regulate vampiric-level hemoglobin production alone.

The fetus senses the instability and goes feral in-utero (Abnormals especially), often causing miscarriage or internal injuries.

II. WHY THE FATHER MUST STAY LINKED – CONSTANTLY

A vampire father isn’t just a “supportive partner.” He is the other half of the system.

1. The Aura Link

A soulmate-bonded father provides a direct stabilizing frequency that keeps the mother’s rewritten biology functional.

The link is maintained by physical proximity, shared feeding, and scent-marking—many fathers sleep pressed to their mate constantly during late pregnancy.

Abnormal fathers produce more potent aura stabilizers, which is why Abnormal pregnancies are both sacred and exhausting.

2. After Birth – Feeding TWO Vampires

When the baby is born, the mother doesn’t immediately “switch back.”

Hybrid milk or Cradle Serum continues for 4–6 months (Normals) or longer for Abnormals.

Her body is still producing vampiric-level nutrient output, meaning she’s feeding both the infant AND her own altered biology.

The father continues to feed from her regularly (usually at the throat or wrist) to cycle out stale blood proteins and keep her chemistry stable.

Without this constant loop? Her system collapses, milk spoils, and the infant starves.

III. DOES CHILD FEEDING STRAIN THE BONDED PAIR?

Yes—but not how humans think.

Physical Strain

Mothers are often exhausted by the nutrient demand, especially humans whose bodies aren’t designed for long-term vampiric milk production.

Fathers frequently overfeed from their mates to “clean” the hybrid milk system, leaving both partners drained.

Emotional/Mating Strain

Instinctive jealousy: Feeding is intimate for vampires. A child feeding long past toddler age can spark territorial instincts in the bonded father, especially Abnormals.

Resolution: Most families establish ritualized feeding schedules to soothe these instincts—yes, even for toddlers.

By weaning age, most bonded pairs are relieved to return to exclusive feeding with each other; it’s both romantic and stabilizing for their own bond.

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📜 HOW & WHEN ABNORMAL CHILDREN ARE PRESENTED TO SOCIETY

I. THERE IS NO “DEBUT” – BUT THERE ARE RULES

Vampire society does not formally “present” children like human aristocracies once did. There are no grand balls, no ceremonial introductions. Why?

Practicality: Young vampires are unstable—especially Abnormals. Showing off a toddler who could glow-vein shriek and bite through a diplomat’s wrist is… bad politics.

Territory laws: Until a child is “juvenile stable” (see below), they’re considered part of their parent’s private territory and are off-limits to outsiders.

The unspoken rule: keep them behind closed doors until they’re safe to be seen.

II. AGE & “JUVENILE STABLE” STATUS

Normal Vampire Children

Considered “stable” around 10–12 years old. By this age, they:

No longer experience blood-mad tantrums.

Can regulate hunger for 3–5 days without breakdown.

Are safe to attend schools, gatherings, and minor court events.

Abnormal Vampire Children

Considered stable MUCH later—15+ years old on average. Why?

Their rage cycles don’t fully subside until adolescence.

Even at 12, many still need live-fed blood from parents for emotional regulation.

Their fangs, glowing veins, and aura flares are obvious markers of their nature.

III. DO FAMILIES PRETEND ABNORMAL BABIES ARE NORMAL?

Yes. Constantly.

High-ranking families disguise them. Glamour spells, carefully curated appearances, even forcing the child onto bag-blood diets in public to mimic Normal feeding habits.

Abnormal traits are explained away. Glow-vein flares? “Just strong aura for their age.” Overlong fangs? “Inherited from the great-grandfather.”

Why bother? Because ancient vampire politics hate Abnormals. Abnormal infants have historically been seen as weapons or curses—too dangerous, too god-made-wrong to trust.

Some families go further—fake entire Normal childhoods for their Abnormal children, only letting them “be themselves” in private territories.

IV. WHEN PUBLIC CAN’T BE AVOIDED

If a child MUST appear before they’re stable:

Strict control measures:

Aura suppressants woven into clothing.

Parents keep constant physical contact (holding wrist, hand, being near) to calm them.

A blood retainer is always nearby with a fresh vial in case of hunger surges.

Old families hire “Impression Masters.” Specialists who train Abnormal children to mimic Normal behaviour—quiet, slow movements, no scent-marking.

Still, most avoid this until absolutely necessary.

V. SOCIETY’S RESPONSE

Normals: Often pretend not to notice. Calling out an Abnormal child is a grave insult to the parents.

Abnormals: Usually recognize their own instantly. Many elders secretly approve of keeping young Abnormals out of the public eye—it’s safer for everyone.

Politics: Old court families gossip, of course, but most keep their mouths shut to avoid angering an Abnormal parent.

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📜 TANTRUMS, RAGE CYCLES & BLOOD- FEVER MELTDOWNS

I. FIRST TRUTH: TANTRUMS ARE NOT “CUTE.”

Vampire children don’t just cry or stomp their feet. Their magic flares with their emotions. A tantrum is a territorial threat display—even in a toddler.

Normals: Manageable. Emotional but restrained by natural biological “brakes.”

Abnormals: No brakes. No rules. A true rage cycle is closer to a mini feral hunt.

II. NORMAL VAMPIRE TANTRUMS

Age 1–5: “The Growling Years”

Early tantrums manifest as low growls, biting at toys, or chewing furniture when hungry or overstimulated.

Parents often soothe by:

Pheromone calming techniques—stroking scent glands along the neck or hairline.

Offering tiny drops of blood on a fingertip to quiet hunger-based tantrums.

Distraction chewing: Leather toys, wooden teething rods soaked in faintly scented blood.

Age 5–10: “The Sulking Years”

More emotional than physical—pouting, long silences, territorial sulks.

Normals sometimes hiss or flash fangs in frustration but rarely bite parents past age 5.

Hunger tantrums are solved with blood bag “snack packs”, often mixed with vanilla or spice to soothe nerves.

Worst-case meltdown:

Glow-vein flares are rare but possible if the child is starved or scared. Parents calm them with immediate skin-to-skin contact and a small live feed.

III. ABNORMAL VAMPIRE TANTRUMS

Age 0–1: “Shrieking With Teeth”

Abnormals scream-shriek when hungry—described as a sound that can crack glass in old houses.

Instinctive biting: They bite whatever they trust—mother’s collarbone, father’s wrist, even their own blankets until they shred them.

Age 1–5: “Rage Cycles”

This is the danger zone.

Triggers: Hunger, overstimulation, separation anxiety, or even jealousy if the bonded parent holds someone else.

Symptoms:

Glow-vein flares across the cheeks and jawline (classic feral marker).

Shaking, fever-like body heat.

Furniture or crib destruction—yes, some toddlers bite through wood.

Handling:

Immediate feeding is the first response. Even a sip of soulmate-linked blood can break the cycle.

If unavailable, aura-binding hold by the father or a trusted elder—pressing the child to the chest, forcing scent dominance until the cycle breaks.

In extreme cases, ritual sedation (soft trance induction) is used.

Age 5–10: “The Feral Fits”

Even older Abnormal kids aren’t stable.

Territorial tantrums: They may lunge at siblings, hiss, or try to scent-mark parents during jealous fits.

School-age Abnormals often wear suppression charms to avoid public meltdowns.

Punishment doesn’t work. Attempting discipline mid-rage often worsens the cycle—only calm, firm aura dominance works.

IV. PARENTAL ROLES IN TANTRUM HANDLING

Fathers (especially Abnormals):

Handle aura-dominance calming. Children instinctively submit to stronger auras; many tantrums are solved when the father wraps the child in an enveloping, scent-heavy hold.

Provide emergency live feeds—fathers are usually the first blood source during tantrums.

Mothers:

Human mothers soothe via pheromone scenting + physical closeness.

Vampire mothers produce Cradle Serum longer for Abnormal children, using serum-feeding as a calming ritual.

V. CHAN AT AGE 3? A CASE STUDY

(because you KNOW you wanted this)

Chan as an Abnormal toddler? A mini feral hurricane.

Bit through silk curtains, left fang marks on the family table.

Famously hissed at an elder who tried to touch his mother—then latched onto his father’s wrist mid-tantrum until fed.

By age 5, he reportedly bit a family retainer for touching his toys—Abnormal instincts don’t share.

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📜 WHY MALE VAMPIRES ARE PHYSICALLY & MAGICALLY INVOLVED IN PREGNANCY & CHILD- REARING

I. PREGNANCY AS A SACRED ACT

For vampires, carrying life is holy. It doesn’t matter if the mother is human or vampire—pregnancy is revered as a near-mystical act, a temporary fusion of two bloodlines and two auras.

Cultural truth: To endanger a pregnant mate is one of the highest crimes in vampire society. Ancient courts executed offenders instantly.

Biological truth: Vampiric pregnancy is dangerous, high-energy, and often life-threatening (especially Abnormal fetuses), so male involvement is not just symbolic—it’s survival.

II. THE FATHER’S ROLE

A vampire father is not passive; he becomes part of the pregnancy itself.

1. AURA-BOUND STABILIZATION

The father’s aura literally wraps around the mother’s, reinforcing her altered biology.

He maintains this by constant contact—sleeping pressed against her back, holding her belly, or scent-marking her throat nightly.

Abnormal fathers produce stronger stabilizing frequencies, which is why they almost never leave their pregnant mate alone.

2. SHARED BLOOD LOOPS

Fathers feed from their pregnant mate regularly to clear stale, magic-heavy blood proteins from her system.

In Abnormal pregnancies, fathers also feed their own blood back to the mother—yes, reciprocal feeding—to supply extra magical stability for the fetus.

3. PROTECTIVE INSTINCTS

Even the calmest vampire men become hyper-territorial.

Snarling at anyone who gets too close.

Sleeping with one arm over her at all times.

Some Abnormals scent-mark doors, furniture, and even walls of the living space during late pregnancy—claiming the entire area as hers.

III. SEXUAL & EMOTIONAL INTIMACY DURING PREGNANCY

Heightened Bonding: Pregnancy deepens soulmate bonds; fathers become obsessed with keeping their mate soothed, fed, and adored.

Touch Fixation: Vampire fathers are handsy—stroking her hair, holding her belly, kissing the curve of her throat like a ritual.

Sexuality:

Many couples remain sexually active, but it’s different—slower, gentle, often paired with blood-sharing as an act of devotion.

Abnormal fathers in particular become more tender than usual—their usual feral dominance shifts to near-worship.

The unspoken truth? Pregnancy is the one time an Abnormal’s instinct to devour turns fully into protect.

IV. FATHERS AS PRIMARY ANCHORS

1. Infancy

Fathers provide aura dominance to keep newborns stable, especially Abnormals.

Many spend hours daily in skin-to-skin contact with the child—chest-holding, wrist-feeding, scent-marking the baby to imprint “safety.”

2. Toddlerhood

Abnormal fathers often handle tantrums personally—wrapping the child in scent-dominance holds until calm.

Normal fathers are calmer but still heavily involved—playing, teaching hunting instincts safely, and monitoring early aura flares.

3. Emotional Role

Vampiric fathers are far more present than human ones historically.

Ancient belief: “The child learns to feed from the mother, but learns to live from the father.”

V. COURTSHIP & SACREDNESS

Pregnancy care is so culturally important that courtship rituals include proof of paternal reliability.

A man who fails to properly care for his pregnant mate? Considered unworthy, socially disgraced.

Abnormal males, in particular, are judged on how well they stabilize their mate. In old courts, fathers who failed to protect their mate during pregnancy lost territory rights.

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📜 BONUS: PREGNANCY, MOTHERS & THE HOLY FEMININE IN VAMPIRE SOCIETY

I. PREGNANCY IS SACRED – ALWAYS.

In the vampire world, pregnancy is not just biology; it’s ritual, miracle, and blood-magic incarnate.

Why? Vampires are predators first. Life is rare. To create it—to grow it—is a direct defiance of death itself.

Feminine principle: Women are associated with stability, fertility, and quiet power. Even the most feral Abnormal bows, instinctively or culturally, to a pregnant figure.

II. THE HOLY FEMININE

Vampires (Normal or Abnormal) instinctively see women as anchors to their chaos. This isn’t “soft sexism”—it’s a deep-rooted magical truth.

Calm aura: Female auras carry a naturally stabilizing frequency; vampire men often instinctively relax near strong female presences.

Fertility as magic: A fertile or pregnant woman—human or vampire—exudes a denser, sweeter scent, almost narcotic to vampire senses. Many describe it as “tasting like first spring rain.”

Cultural reverence:

Pregnant women are untouchable in most societies—harming one is punishable by death.

Even non-pregnant women are afforded deference in Abnormal courts; insulting one can trigger blood-duels.

III. PREGNANCY AS A BLOOD-MIRACLE

1. The Mother’s Role

She is seen as the vessel of future bloodlines. Her body is considered temporarily divine—a fusion of two bloodlines into one magic.

Human mothers are revered even more fiercely because they risk their lives carrying vampire children.

2. Rituals & Traditions

Blessings: In ancient courts, pregnant women were anointed with cradle oils (blood-infused herbs) to protect the fetus’ aura.

Naming Rights: In many traditions, the mother names the child, not the father, symbolizing her as the one who “pulled the soul through.”

IV. FATHERS DURING PREGNANCY

A vampire man’s behavior during pregnancy defines his honor.

Fathers as guardians:

No male (even family) is allowed to touch a pregnant mate without permission.

Fathers are expected to physically shield their mate in public spaces—hand on her lower back, walking half a step ahead in crowds.

Abnormal reverence:

Even the most violent Abnormal males lower their voices and movements around pregnant women, as if instinctively aware they carry something holier than themselves.

Failing to protect one’s mate during pregnancy is a social disgrace.

V. THE DARK SIDE

Not every vampire respects this sacredness. Some are cruel, patriarchal, or power-hungry:

Old clans sometimes treat women as prized breeding stock rather than individuals, especially Abnormal females due to rarity.

Mate-bond coercion: In less progressive courts, forced bonds or arranged pregnancies occurred under the guise of “honouring bloodlines.”

But modern vampire society—especially under progressive families —despises these old ways. Luxe Health even has laws prosecuting any violation of maternal rights.

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

oh, 🩺 anon… YOU DID THIS AND IT WAS DELICIOUS. THANK YOU. seriously, the way you ask things—specific, feral, curious—feeds my brainrot like premium soulmate blood.

so, enjoy, rest, hydrate, stretch, eat. love you 💋🦇

[teh-nos]

.

[villain-in-love]

I like how the way I just off-handedly mentioned this fact perfectly reflects the way Kiera herself talks about her experience with torture.

One day in a conversation with Thistle she just casually goes "So here I was in that basement, hanging off the hooks that were stuck into my spine, and I distracted myself by thinking about-"

Aaaaand now Thistle is even more determined to never let Kiera out of the "safety" of his dungeon ever again. No more military campaigns for you, young lady. Enough is enough.

Kiera herself didn't quite understand what was with that shocked expression on Thistle's face when she told him what happened. She spent at least two centuries at war, did he really think that she was so lucky to never get caught as a war prisoner? Did he think there were no curious people who took advantage of her regeneration abilities to learn more about human anatomy?

[cerbreus]

Sometimes I have an epiphany about something about myself being very not normal when I'm trying to explain all these intricate paths of logic and plans and how I map out every little tidbit of every little thing I'm stressed about or working towards n I see the look on their face and go 'oh okay so this isn't.... How normal people approach things.....'🤔

[adore-gregor]

🫠

[quatregats]

Just started thinking about my department and my program and now I'm stressed out again

[lavenderjewels]

maybe im just very hard to please when it comes to media lately but I didn’t really like this bsd episode

[misskamelie]

Good to know (?) I'm keeping my streak of "even if I'm unprepared I'll get a passing mark, which I'll refuse because my pride prevents me from accepting anything below a certain threshold" no matter what kind of higher education system I'm in

[devilmokujin]

dlc cases in ad vice are like atrociously long and don't feel like they contribute THAT much to the actual plot of the game........... i feel like reefer madness had WAY more relevance than the naked city and they obviously put like. way more "effort" into making the latter because they think that's what ppl who play the game want more of (super misogyny + seedy underbelly + stupid ass murders + romantic tragedy...??????) which. is probably true but that makes me go -_- even more LOL

[catboybiologist]

Today I just found out that the woman who's been the most supportive of me in my transition believes that trans women shouldn't be able to compete against cis women in sports. Do you happen to have any good peer reviewed resources on the effects of estrogenizing HRT on someone's athletic abilities. Said woman in question doesn't seem to believe there's been any research done, which I deeply doubt. Thank you so much for your continued advocacy for us transfems.

I know you're turning to me for scientific guidance, but I'm just so fucking done with this issue overall. To quote contrapoints: I have nothing left but rage.

I've been on this road before. I could give you some. In most ways, trans women match cis women of their height and weight. But there aren't a lot. Yeah, its a problem. But fucking NOBODY will even study it because of how hot this issue is right now.

But more importantly: There will never, EVER be a study that meets their standards. There's always SOME physical metric that has differences between trans women and cis women. It's become essentially an iteration of the multiple testing problem- if you keep on doing statistical tests, eventually something is going to land.

I don't fucking want to provide studies. I don't want to cut myself down. I don't want my defense of myself to be "oohhh look at me I'm just as weak and pathetic and infantile as cis women"

Is this fucking feminism? Really?

I'm fucking done. Call me the evil hysterical woman, but this entire conversation reeks of misogyny to its fucking core. Organized sports as we know them are made by men, for men, to celebrate male accomplishments and excellence. Cis women can and do equal or excel men in many, MANY physical metrics. But the arbitrary set of rules, the arbitrary set of bouncing balls and scoring systems, are all made to reward the physical abilities of men. We create spin offs and systems of score tracking and variations of the same things over, and over, and over again, to give the fragile little male ego more and more reasons to stroke itself.

Let's take a look at some whiny as piss men not being able to handle the thought that women could EVER be physically notable.

Olympic target shooting used to be mixed gender. A woman won one year. The next year, it was segregated. Not only was it segregated, but the scoring system changed so that the scores of men and women could never be directly compared again.

Last year, Donald Trump sat on stage with Riley Gaines, the transphobic swimmer who whipped up the vitriol about Lia Thomas, and bragged about how it wasn't fair she lost her competition because he, Donald Trump, a 78 year old out of shape wax sculpture of a man, was male. And that he could beat Riley. A trained D1 swimmer. And Riley took it, because it advanced her grift.

There's a now infamous poll that 1 in 8 men think they could beat Serena Williams in a tennis match. Its pretty old at this point, but I'm guessing that number is even higher now.

This entire conversation centers around "trans people crushing the dreams of female athletes" but oh my fucking god, are we not doing that as a society already? This entire fucking "debate" is just an excuse for more and more cis men to sit their, stroking their fucking egos on live television about how big and strong and powerful and fucking WHATEVER men are, and even the trace of maleness in trans women is enough to permanently make them some kind of ubermensch that destroys cis women by every metric imagineable.

I don't give two shits about saving sports, one way or another. I detested organized sports long before I transitioned. Ya wanna talk natural advantage, and how sports rewards exactly the kind of physical ability that a certain brand of cis man pushes themselves to? I have a very mild ankle deformity that means jogging for long periods of time is painful. My best mile time is over 11 minutes. And yet I don't see any of the fuckers that are "better" than me out there in the ocean, clinging to the bottom on a single breath for minutes, or up there with me on top of Whitney. Only one of those skills is celebrated.

Fuck me that was a tangent. My point is, I've long since realized that sports are a self propagating system for the egos of people with a very particular kind of physical prowess. The only exception to this is when its exploitative of people with that kind of extremely specific physical prowess, and leaves those it exploits in the fucking gutter. I don't need to start bringing up CTE, I know y'all know exactly what my take would be on that.

but what is sending me over the fucking edge is how I'm supposed to be the crazy one. I'm the delusional tranny for pointing out that we have lost the fucking plot entirely. This is recreation. Its entertainment. And we are using it to punish people. Fuck this.

I'm so sorry OP, but just don't engage in that game. If you need a calm, measured argument, try attacking the misogyny of it all. The only way to "fix" sports is to create more events that reward and celebrate the physical abilities of cis women: flexibility, extreme long term endurance, and fuck I'm not a sports person nor do I want to waste brainspace on more than that. We need a system for cis women, one that doesn't tell them "here, have this shittier, less viewed, less supported, less encouraged, less celebrated version of something a man is good at". Trans people would find some place in that and in theory, there would be nothing to complain about.

Jesus fucking christ, if I see one more male news pundit start talking about trans women in sports I'm going to straight up devolve into a misandrist.

[roz-ani]

I hereby declare the 1995 "Pride and Prejudice" TV series to be the superior adaptation. Thank you. You are dismissed. Have a nice day ❤️

(rambling in the tags)

[mickyschumacher]

[MEANS I CARE!]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: isack is entirely confused why his best friend is avoiding him. or in which you realised you're in love with your best friend.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: childhood friends to lovers, mostly angst, bits of fluff, a reader with dismissive avoidant attachment, reader struggles with her emotions, initial anger from confrontational!isack but overall caring!isack, cute love confession at the end! // poorly proof read as usual

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: isack hadjar x bsf!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.2k

𝐀/𝐍: poured a bit of myself into this one! it's hard to tell from my writing, but i struggle with expressing my emotions and telling people i care for them. i've heard it's quite common for older sisters to have avoidant attachment issues so... i guess i check the box ◡̈ anyway, this one might be a tad bit dramatic but lmk what you think! ♡︎ // also miss mcrae's album has a lot of avoidant attachment!!

🏎️ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | ⚽️𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

You and Isack were opposites in every sense that mattered.

Where one would claim he was too expressive, you couldn't bring yourself to show you cared.

Where he was indecisive, you held all rationality.

And where he trusted freely, you locked yourself up.

But nevertheless, you had been childhood friends since he moved next door to you. Neither of you had a problem with the way you both acted. It was sort of like give and take: where you lacked, he made up for it and vice versa.

It never really mattered. At least that's what you thought anyways.

This year was different from every other. There would be no other like it. Because Isack was debuting as a Formula One driver. His life long dream. And you couldn't be anymore proud.

You didn't outright say it–you couldn't. You remember smiling when he told you and saying congratulations before Isack simply rolled his eyes and pulled you into a hug.

You remembered him thanking you when you pulled away, stomach churning at the lengthy hug. You were confused. Eyebrows furrowed, you asked why.

"For believing in me," he said with the most beautiful smile and the warmest brown eyes holding your own.

That was the defining moment... the moment you realised you were in love with your best friend.

There were signs. There were always signs.

Your extensive care for him and only him. The constant worry every time he went out on track. The small skip in your heart beat when he'd return home with your favourite ice cream. Your slight amusement when you'd pretend to be cross with him and he'd think you were being serious. The little trinkets he'd bring back from every race to put on the shelves in your bedroom. Or the way he lowered the volume of the TV before you'd even ask him to because he knew you didn't like it.

They were always there. But the line between best friends and whatever... it was so similar... so blurry. How could you've ever known?

But that day... it was like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over your head and reality had finally been opened to you.

You loved Isack. Not liked. Not admired. Not fancied. Loved. And you had been for years.

God it scared you. It terrified you.

People never said it to you but you knew how you were.

When you invested too much of yourself into one thing, you stopped it only moments later. You didn't want to stick around to see if something would be good. It was the assumption it would hurt. So if you could dismiss it before it even had the chance to... that's the only way you could ever relax.

You never understood how people did it. How you could give so much of yourself away. What happened when it all inevitably failed? Why wouldn't you protect yourself first? Why did you have to deal with the mess of emotions?

Loving Isack... it meant showing the most vulnerable sides of yourself. And it's not that he didn't know you. He was your best friend, of course he knew you. But that made it worse.

In your years of friendship, you had cried twice in front of him. And you hated it every single second of it. That he could see you break down. That you weren't the strong friend he normally relied on.

Loving Isack was going to fail.

You knew it.

You knew it when he crashed in the formation lap on Australia and it felt like a part of you had been ripped and torn into pieces when you saw him cry on the screens.

You knew it when he came to you, thought to be out of tears, but almost on his knees, hands immediately wrapping around you for a hug, asking you why this had happened to him and you couldn't do anything but apologise to him and tell him he'd come back stronger while you cried so silently.

When his parents thanked you for being there for Isack... fuck, you knew it would all backfire.

So you slowly stopped. Like you always did.

Fewer texts. Fewer jokes. More lies. Forcing yourself to do something–anything–else but care too much.

You hated it. You hated that it was bringing you some calm despite your body screaming at you.

It was getting difficult to keep it up. How many more times would you blamed it on the time zones? As if you hadn't memorised them the moment they came out. As if you hadn't been doing this his entire career.

But the small break after the Saudi Grand Prix meant Isack was back home. After you had missed your usual good luck text.

You had forgotten actually. You were in your room, studying quietly, unaware anyone would be home as your workaholic parents were out like normal.

Consequently, the thumps up your staircase were loud, almost deafening. Your ears perked up as the door of your bedroom went wide open.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Isack's shrill voice echoed in your bedroom, chest heaving as he stood in front of you, arms firmly to his side.

You turned from your desk. You eyed his attire briefly. The hoodie and sweatpants, the bags under his eyes... he'd probably just come from the airport. The one where you'd usually be waiting for him. "Excuse me?" You asked, throat dry from not speaking in hours.

Isack blinked, swallowing. He took a step forward to you, eyes flickering over you rapidly to see if you were okay. "Is something wrong? A-Are you sick? Are you stressed? Tell me what's wrong so I can fix it."

You could feel it. The tear in your heart growing while annoyance boiled under your skin. He didn't need to fix you. That was your job.

"I... I don't know what you're talking about," you sighed out, standing from your desk before you walked to your shelves. You chewed on your lip, nervously eyeing the trinkets Isack had brought you.

You needed this conversation to be over before it went somewhere else.

"Putain de merde," Isack swore, running a hand through his hair. He walked to you again. "Like hell you don't... you don't talk to me for a week and avoid my calls and you don't know what I’m talking about? Like I'm crazy?" He asked with a small scoff.

You sucked in a sharp breath, turning to face him. "I told you with the time diff–"

A loud groan interrupted your sentence. Isack breathed slowly, fingers pressed on his nose bridge. "I swear to fucking God, if you mention that stupid fucking time difference again, I will lose my mind."

You stayed quiet. You weren't sure what to say. You wanted to peel out of your skin, you were so uncomfortable. You hated confrontation. Isack knew you hated confrontation. And yet...

Isack sighed quietly. He stepped closer to you, holding your hands with his gently. "Please, ma moitié. Please tell me what's wrong. Did I do something? Why... why won't you talk to me?"

Your eyes burned at the crack in his voice. Fuck, this sucked. You hated yourself for feeling like this. It was like it was on the tip of your tongue but you could never get it out.

"I..." you said shakily, forcing yourself to remove your burning hands from his while you pretended like you didn't see the hurt flash in his eyes, "It's nothing. Nothing is wrong."

"So it is something. Something has been bothering you. Since last year... since I told you about my seat... something's been wrong. What is it? What happened?" Isack queried softly, brown eyes searching yours so deeply for an answer.

He noticed. Of course he did.

Shit.

"You know you can tell me anything."

But I can't! You wanted to scream it. You just couldn't tell him.

"Isack, please... just– you know how I am. I'll deal with it, hmm?" You said, trying to muster up a smile.

He stared at you quietly and you were scared he was seeing too much of you. The debate in his eyes... the way he chewed his lip... he also couldn't tell if he should say it.

"You want to cry," he stated, making your eyes widen. "I can see it in your eyes. The redness. Your red cheeks. You want to say something so just say it! I'm worried for you."

"Stop saying things like that." You let out an exasperated groan. You brushed past him, clambering into his shoulder. "I don't understand how you do it," you murmured angrily more to yourself than him.

The tears were freely flowing down your cheeks before you knew it. You glared hard at your desk, eyes hot as though it would stop you from crying.

You couldn't see it but Isack could feel his heart breaking at the sight of your figure shaking. You could feel him gently lay his hand over your shoulder. "It's okay to cry," he mumbled, "I wish you wouldn't hide it."

You felt sick. Like your stomach was churning. It felt like his hand was leaving an imprint on you, searing you. Exhaustion was clouding your body. Exhaustion that had built up over the course of the past few weeks.

"I can't do it like you, Isack. I can't show I care. It's so hard. It's like I have to constantly fight myself," you quietly said, unable to bear this any longer.

"Hey," Isack murmured, hand travelling to your face to turn you to him. His eyes softened at your wet cheeks. Wiping them with the pads of his thumbs, he held your chin with his thumb. "It's okay. You don't have to do anything like me. Take your time. Do what you want when you want."

You breathed quietly while you stared at your best friend. He was right. It wasn't as easy as he made it sound, but you were so tired of feeling like crap. You focused on his encouraging smile and opened your mouth.

"I... you were right. I was avoiding you," you admitted, eyes falling to the floor in embarrassment. You could feel he wanted to say something but he stayed quiet, waiting for you. "I was avoiding you because I care."

Isack furrowed his brows. "I don't understand."

You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating how much you wanted to say... how much you could say. "Last year... when you told me you got your seat, you thanked me."

He nodded in agreement. "For believing in me. Because you always do," he murmured, his free hand rubbing your own softly, comforting you.

You smiled gently at his words before taking in a sharp intake of air. "It just made me think, well, realise that I'm in love with you. And I always have been," you breathed out, the weight slowly lifting off your shoulders.

You could see Isack's eyes slightly widen but you continued. "And that terrifies me, Isack. Because it means I care. I care a lot for you. And I'm scared that because I care, something will go wrong. I-I didn't mean to shut you out. It's not what I want. It's just all I know. So I'm sorry. And I'm sorry I'm dumping this on you when you don't feel the same way and–"

"Wait, wait, wait," Isack interjected, hands both reaching to hold your face gently. He held your eyes with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. "Who's says I don't feel the same way?"

You mouth felt dry, heart speeding. "I... You do?"

Isack smiled, laughing softly as he nodded. "I thought it was obvious. That maybe you just didn't feel the same way."

He watched a dark expression fall on your face. You were in that same dreadful space you had just been in. "Hey, ma moitié, what's wrong?"

Your eyes fell to his once again. "What if I can't love you enough?"

It sounded strange but he knew what you meant. Even with all your care... what if you couldn't show you loved him enough? What if you couldn't express it?

"Not possible," Isack retorted, casually shrugging.

"But I–"

"I see it," Isack firmly told you, quietening you easily. "I see it when you're at my races and you stand on the side, letting me go to my parents first. I see you and your camera taking pictures of us when you think I don't. I see your heart. I see all of it."

You blinked, eyes burning all over again. For the first time in forever, you stepped forward, hugging him tightly. "Je t’aime, Isack.

His arms wrapped around yours, holding you closer to him. Isack smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Je t’aime, ma moitié."

"Did you bring me any souvenirs?" You mumbled against his shoulders, sniffling slightly.

You could feel his body rumble with a chuckle. "Depends. did you even watch my race or were you busy 'sleeping?'"

You pulled away, making a face, guilt still swirling within you. "I did watch it. You know I watch it even when I'm mad at you," you pouted.

Isack grinned. "Then of course I did."

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[madame-fear]

Okay but like am I the only one that thrives on angst?? Because imagine if Jacaerys and his young wife, who he by the way only married for the support of The Arryns, had marriage problems because there’s always been tension between her and Baela (just an idea, I love my Baela bc she’s my girl!!) as Jacaerys was supposed to be married to her instead..and might I mention that reader was shipped off to Dragonstone by herself to give birth to her son and she’s been alone and scared all the time, until she’s brought back to Kingslanding after her mother in-law, Queen Rhaenyra, finally claimed back the throne with a peace treaty between the Hightowers. His wife is so so shy and alone because she’s only used to being with their baby, and Jacaerys is just absolutely worried for her because he hasn’t visited her at all due to his duties as heir and it just so happens that his wife thinks he hates herr 💔💔 (this was a bit long..but idk)

𐙚 𝐐𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐀 𝐉𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍.

ೀ amira speaks.ᐟ : the so awaited Arryn reader fic is here !! Hope it was what you expected, and overall enjoy it! Thought this was longer than 3.6k words! 😭🤲💗 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : ∿ request above! ˗ˏˋ ꒰ word count : 3.6k

˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : angst to fluff. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : Jacaerys Velaryon x Arryn!Wife!Reader.

After many years of a long, nearly never ending war, it had finally subsided— bringing peace for once and for all. It had been the same war that provoked the death of innocent people, and the one responsible for your marriage with Prince Jacaerys, as well.

A rather complex marriage, you’d say it was— though, it was an engagement that could only be expected. Betrothals and marriages had never been done for the sake of genuine love, but only for the sake of allies & tying deeper bonds between the Houses; helplessly falling in forced, unhappy marriages.

There had been little to no time for any of you two to establish some sort of proper relationships between each other. It worked as an engagement with the sole purpose of gaining support from House Arryn amidst the war with the Greens. “A betrothal, in exchange for support”, and it served with it’s purpose as it should in a way, you guessed.

Except, for the looming tension that came along your marriage.

Jace’s previous betrothal to Lady Baela, firstborn daughter of the Rogue Prince, wasn’t unbeknownst to you; a betrothal that had to be broken off when you appeared in the picture, as the support from the Arryns would be placed as number one priority— with Jacaerys marrying you as the one and only condition for yet another ally. It was inconvenient, but very much needed.

The growing tension between you and his previous betrothed notoriously loomed in the air as soon as you both met one another— being presented with little to no words from Baela, and most of the time, all the endless attempts you did in order to establish a good relationship with her, were dismissed; thrown into the wind, as you were given a cold stare, with no words said... Being walked right past, left ignored.

Often times, you could feel her contemptuous stare fixed on you, each time you were sat next to Jacaerys.

Solitude had leisurely grown as a frequent monster lurking in your surroundings. “I can’t do anything about it, I can’t act as an intermediary to your relationship.” was the strict response given to you by your future Lord Husband, when speaking your mind regarding how the Lady Baela gave you a cold shoulder, despite the constant friendliness you had to offer.

Jacaerys didn’t seem to care much at all. You swore that the eldest Velaryon prince was as indifferent towards you, as his previous betrothed was— maybe, he even resented you for breaking off his already arranged betrothal. And you couldn’t say you didnt understand the situation, however.

Years of having known, trusted, each other, growing by each other’s side... Having their betrothal arranged for years— you could even silently observe the way in which they gazed at each other, occasionally. All of that had only been for it to turn into ash & dust when the time to seek support from allies had come.

But what other choice did you have, except none at all? Had you any blame, at all? Were you truly the one at fault? The growing solitude and the hefty weight of guilt was nearly asphyxiating. You felt desperately trapped in an escapeless labyrinth, being fully aware of how you had no one at all to release each one of your thoughts to— with your betrothed often giving you a cold shoulder as well, or simply, being far too engaged in his duties. Each private conversation, managed to quickly be dismissed; you had been forced to be kept to yourself, in a way.

All for a war between kin. All for the sake of allies. And you, right in the middle of it all.

Things hadn’t grown to become any better at all by the time you fell pregnant with your first child— with his child. Much less considering it was all still under the looming tension of war felt in the atmosphere.

Dragonstone had become your temporary home; one you had been sent to all by yourself, still being with child. Taking proper care of yourself throughout your pregnancy had been a difficult task, considering how the general situation provoked a constant state of fright and concern to you. Alone, with no one else to rely on; finding mere solace in talking to yourself... Or, rather, talking quietly to your unborn child.

It wasn’t exactly the healthiest thing for the fragile conditions you were mentally experiencing— it simply deepened that inner void, those bitter feelings of loneliness; poisoning you slowly with every quiet tear you dropped late at night in your chambers, after holding on to the knot that formed on your throat during the day.

The rocky castle had been the same place where you had birthed your child— a healthy boy, much to your fortune. Something that the Gods had finally graced you with. And that grace was, providing an heir for your husband... Though, you had given birth to your babe in the mere company of a few maids, and maesters. Your own mother-in-law couldn’t be there by your side, as much as she deeply desired to. Your own husband, with his duties as Rhaenyra’s heir, couldn’t assist, either— and much less, your own blood.

The Gods have a strange way of treating you, you thought. Blessing you with an heir to your husband, and, simultaneously, remaining to provide you with solitude throughout the entire way.

Not long passed after you gave birth, that war had finally subsided, moving from Dragonstone to King’s Landing with a small babe in your arms. Queen Rhaenyra had made peace treaty with the Greens, allowing her to claim her birthright, the Iron Throne, for once and for all— bringing a wave of relief, tossing aside a hefty weight burdening you.

Of course, just one small bit of a burdening weight had been removed from your life, and you dared to say, it was the most important heaviness lingering on the atmosphere— yet, you still had your own issues to solve. Moving all by yourself with a small baby boy towards the Red Keep wasn’t an easy task either, it simply stirred the occasional anxiety you suffered, along with bitter loneliness.

Those series of events happened in, what you considered, to be such a short time lapse— barely allowing you to process your wedding ceremony, the looming tension between you and his previous betrothed, not being able to have properly bonded with your husband as you married for mere alliances, having very little bonding with your mother-in-law, living in a whole different place from one day to another, having a babe, and moving once again this time with your child after the peace treaty...

... And you could keep naming each, and every single one of the little things that provoked an asphyxiating knot on your throat; one you had to bitterly swallow and keep to yourself. How could you not be overwhelmed with the circumstances?

You had grown used to being alone, with only the company of your little boy to keep your sanity hanging from a fragile, fraying thread. You briefly, and very feebly managed to interact with the rest of the members of House Targaryen— but you never throughoutly engaged in a deeper bond with them, or were often seen walking around the large halls, once the war had finished and you moved to the Red Keep.

The war had passed immediatly after the peace treaty with the Hightowers. No usurper on the Throne, no more dead men and innocent people— and all the burden you carried behind of you now, was that of the lurking solitude haunting you. It was just your small, sweet boy and you to spend time together; the one whom you found some warmth, despite still being practically a babe. Though, you couldn’t occasionally help but long for the company of anyone else from your new family.

At the present moment, you spent time on your private chambers. your little boy rested on your lap, as you quietly sat on the ground. On his hand, was a dragon wooden toy which he played with— making some cooing sounds. He had been your only companion for the moment, managing to spare you from any feelings of loneliness from the moment you had learned you were with child, being the one you often spoke to despite not receiving back an answer.

A faint grin graced your lips, with your hand gently caressing the back of his hair. You craned your head gently, releasing a soft chuckle at the sight of your boy engaged into his own world. You both were almost headed to sleep, but you preferred to spend some more time together— enjoying the quietness of the night, and the peace that came along.

The stillness looming in the atmosphere had been interrupted by a soft knock sounding twice against the wooden doors of your chambers. Raising your sight curiously as your boy remained playing in your lap with the wooden dragon toy. Not often having many visitors at the late hours of the night, you softly muttered “Come in.”

The door was gently swayed, revealing to be your Husband the one who knocked, closing the door behind him— which, it wasn’t a common occurence, for him to visit you in your chambers. The constant duties of the eldest Velaryon prince, on his role of being his mother’s heir to the Throne, were more than time-consuming; occupying the entirety of his attention.

But of course, with you being his wife, mother of his son, having shared little to nothing — plus having married only for alliances — and having some previous marriage problems regarding his broken betrothal, could only burden his thoughts. You had done an important effort to be a proper wife to him, one that couldn’t pass unnoticed.

You married to support what his mother fought for, you managed the notorious tension there was between you and his previous betrothed— you had given him a son, birthing all by yourself, and moved to Dragonstone, and then the Red Keep all by yourself, as well; only for him to spend his days focused on what was asked of him, leaving little time to even pay you and your baby son a short visit.

Guilt was overriding him in a constant, haunting manner. It was only natural for Jacaerys to be consumed by his preoccupied feelings towards you. Perhaps, you didn’t often engage or bond together in a convenient way, and you might’ve had troubles before when it came to discussing about your uneasy relationship with Lady Baela— but that didn’t mean he didn’t love you, much less notice your strenght in every sense.

It was only fair to show his appreciation, and his concern for your wellbeing.

“Hope I’m not troubling both of you with my presence?” Jace said in a lighthearted manner, with a faint grin appearing on his rosy lips, tilting his head briefly. His presence had been quite a surprise for you, and that expressed on the looks in your features, along with some tension in the air— not being used to being visited by Rhaenyra’s heir, your husband. Which, if anything, it deepened the looming guilt on him.

You shook your head gently, looking down at your son timidly, using your index finger to delicately caress him on his cheek. “Not at all, we were spending some time before heading to sleep.” you muttered in response. “Is anything the matter? Has something happened?” you inquired with slight concern, furrowing your eyebrows, lifting your gaze once again, staring into his dark coffee eyes. The innocence on your features were most beloved by him, managing to properly appreciate them as, now, it was just the two of you in the room— no duties in between, no one else to bother you.

Jacaerys shook his head. “Nothing’s the matter, fortunately.” he answered, with a tone of relief. His lips frowned for a split second, thoroughly processing his words before continuing. “I... Simply wished to pay you, and our son, a visit— as I haven’t been able to do so lately with my duties as my mother’s heir.” his eyes lingered on the ground shyly, before returning to stare at your own. “I wanted to know if you were doing alright as well, and if you felt comfortable around, of course.”

The expressions on your face softened leisurely. “Oh,” your lips partly opened in surprise, stuttering for a moment, before closing them rather quickly. You had been momentarily taken aback by his unexpected statement, as you had never shared a private moment like this with him before. It had been a situation you would have never guessed you would ever experience, yet, here you were— and it felt as if the world surrounding you stopped for a second.

You swallowed thickly, looking down over your boy, who stared at his father, and then at you. “Keep playing with your toys, my love. I will be right back.” pressing a smooch on your son’s forehead, you carefully moved him so he would sit on the rug decorating the room beneath both of you. A wide, almost toothless smile graced his features, before continuing to play with his own toys as you stood, and approached Jace.

It was almost admirable how much of a dedicated, loving mother you were, Jace thought to himself, staring at the scene— with a grin helplessly increasing on the corner of his lips. Your hands turned into fists, meekly fidgeting with the fabric of your dress. You almost couldn’t stare at him in the eyes, allowing him to notice as well a growing fluster in your cheeks.

“I-I’m... Doing quite alright.” the words came off whispered, and stuttered, from your lips, “We have been managing together all this time, after the war.” you mentioned, staring at your boy — who was absorbed into his own innocent world — before returning to stare at Jacaerys. “Thank you... For asking.” the eldest Velaryon smiled sweetly at you, noticing how you very faintly stared at him in the eyes.

“I’m quite relieved to hear so.” he replied back, in a low, casual tone, continuing to offer a kind grin to you as his eyes guided themselves towards his baby boy playing in the background. Brief moments of awkward silence passed, with a palpable tension in the atmosphere.

You had been given little time — to not say , none at all — to bond with each other, before your wedding ceremony. You knew nothing about one another, and it could only be expected that you would be awkward in each other’s presence. But now that the war had ended, the possibility of engaging in a proper, sweet manner with each other was now given. You could softly hear Jace take a deep breath, before continuing to talk with you.

“I came to visit you to offer my apologies, as well.” furrowing your eyebrows, your stare darted at his own— which lingered on the ground, noticing a rosy taint beginning to cover his cheeks. “What for?” it was a rather innocent ask, or at least, Jace considered it to be that way. With a lingering guilt that weighed constantly on him, offering his apologies felt very little with everything he actually owed you, after all the things you had done for him.

The heir nibbled on his lower lip for a moment, allowing himself to properly process in words each and every single little thing he had to thank you, and apologise for. “For many things, I dare to say.” he scoffed in a teasing way, provoking a frowny grin to grow upon your lips, as you kept delicately fidgeting with the fabric of your dress in a discreet manner. “One of the things I would like to apologise for the most, is for... Not simply not visiting you, and our baby son due to my duties as heir— but for having given you a cold shoulder all this time, in a way.”

Your expressions began softening, not uttering a single word to allow him to continue. The looks on your face were almost puzzling to him, as it contained several emotions— all mostly ranging from surprise, to a... relieved one. But mostly, a shyly relieved look began expressing itself all across your features. “I never expressed to you my admiration for your strength and courage. Much less, I have given you my gratitude for marrying me and giving me an heir, all in order to gain new allies amidst war.”

“You have done everything by yourself. Moved to Dragonstone alone, birthed alone, and moved to the Red Keep after the peace treaty all by yourself, with our boy. I often scorn myself for not having done the slightest effort of accompanying you.” it was true. All this time, you had grown to be used only to the presence of your little child offering you solace, and company.

Hearing his words shed a light of understanding to the implicances of war when it came to the perspective— after all, being heir to the Throne is not easy at all, much less when your birthright is usurped. But for Jace, being an heir occupied with his duties, before and after war, was no excuse to give offer you a piece of his genuine love and admiration. If anything, he resented himself for not having visited you earlier.

“There hasn’t been a single moment where I haven’t thought about you, or haven’t grown any more preoccupied. And I’m sorry for not having shown it earlier, when I should have. Your efforts have never passed unnoticed.”

A gentle sigh spurred from you, nibbling shyly on your lower lip, with your gaze meekly darting towards the ground. Hearing such statement coming from him felt almost surreal, considering each moment you spent alone, wondering to yourself if your husband felt mere disdain towards you after breaking off his previous betrothal to Lady Baela. You had to process the moment for several seconds, leaving a few seconds of silence to hang in the air until you gave your response, but you couldn’t deny that a part of you was satisfied to know his true thoughts about you.

“I would’ve thought you... Resented me for breaking off your betrothal, and occupying the place of Lady Baela.” you muttered timidly, maintaining your eyes gazing at the floor. His eyes widened faintly in surprise. Gods, your words didn’t help with the intensely growing guilt-feelings he suffered, almost as if your statement sharply stabbed him in the heart— how could he ever resent you?

You had nothing to do with anything. You simply did your required duties, what was asked of you.

Jace stood silent for a moment, “How could I ever resent you?” he began, a certain desperation, and disbelief, vibrating on his tone upon hearing your statement. It almost shattered him, knowing you thought that— and all because his mind was consumed in war strategies and responsibilities as heir. The tip of his index finger placed itself on your underchin, delicately — yet firmly — lifting your face so you would stare at each other.

His dark coffee eyes stared profoundly into your own, “I could never resent you for something that was not your choice, much less after all the efforts you did.” you swore you could feel a knot beginning to form on your throat, from both the overwhelming sensation of having thought all this time that Jacaerys disdained you, and from content. “The idea of breaking off my betrothal to Lady Baela and become used to your presence for alliances might have been complicated initially, but I could never resent you for it.”

“Quite the contrary, I have grown to love and silently admire you.” both his hands had gone to cup your cheeks affectionately, taking the moments of quietness to admire every inch of your features. That was, before his arms rapidly embraced themselves around you, tightly wrapping you into a hug. One of his hands went to the back of your head, interwining his fingers in between your hair, as his other hand softly moved up and down, caressing your back; nuzzling the tip of his nose against your hair in a discreet manner— finding comfort in your sweet scent.

For a moment, you stood there, being firmly hugged by Jace, as you leisurely processed the — quite abrupt — situation. Your eyes had widened slightly in surprise, only to feel your body relaxing a few seconds after the eldest Velaryon held you in the warmth of his arms, slowly giving into the embrace. Your arms delicately wrapped themselves around his own body, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. A wide range of emotions came afloat at the moment, but all you could feel, was a gleeful sensation of relief.

What you had so longed for, had been finally given in your life— to seek and find comfort in your husband.

“All I can only do, is constantly cherish the lucky fact of your existence, I have never felt a single ounce of resentment, or hatred.” he muttered, continuing to nuzzle his nose against your hair in a loving manner, before firmly pressing his lips against your temple for several seconds. “I hope you can forgive me, and know that I’ll be visiting and spending time with both of you more often— because I adore you, immensely.”

The ghost of a soft, shy grin began growing on the corner of your lips. You knew everything would be alright, from now on— it would all be less dreadful, and less lonely, knowing that your husband would now be accompanying you in a proper manner.

The Gods did have a strange way of treating you, but all for an ultimate good.

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[simpsdept]

Rosie x Alastors wife reader!

A/n: hii! I hope this is good! I tried my best to fit in with her character

(Requested:shugar0cone)

-The first time you both met was through Alastor, obviously.

-You entered Cannibal town and it was actually pretty nice, just like Alastor had told you.

-And it was pretty peaceful, despite the cannibalism every now and then.

-Alastor brought you over to a nice, old style looking building, it kinda reminded you of Alastor’s style, which you loved.

-Instantly you notice a lovely woman also known as Rosie, the over lord and the owner of the cannibal colony.

-Alastor dragged you over to her, with a smiling face and waved over to her.

“Well well well, look who it is! Alastor my old pall”, Rosie exclaimed with a large smile as she walked over to you two. “It’s been ages deary, where have you been?”, She then looked over to you, and smiled, taking your hands. “Oh! And who’s this lovely dear?”

Alastor let out a chuckle, his smile never faltering. “This my dear, is my lovely wife, [name]!” You waved nervously at the cannibal overlord.

“Oh! I would have never guessed!” Rosie smiled, happy. “Now tell me dear, how did Alastor here score such a lovely lady like yourself?” She smiled, you smile back, you were about to speak up but she spoke first. “Oh why don’t you come have some tea with me dear? I would love to get to know you more!”

You smiled and nodded at her offer. “Alright then, thank you”. You and Rosie both left together, Rosie speaking to you, as Alastor was left to stand there alone.

-After that event you two have grown pretty close together. Having tea together or hosting small parties for friends were often on your schedule.

-You two definitely gossip together, a lot. You’re basically just two adult women with the minds of a middle schooler, gossiping about a lot of people, especially Susan.

-You both totally gossip a little about Alastor too. You’re his wife but it’s fun to talk about the weird or strange things he does to Rosie, resulting in Rosie using them against Alastor playfully later.

-You’re never jealous of Rosie and Alastor being close. It’s obvious their friends, and Rosie’s to sweet to actually get with a man that’s already taken, and Alastor would never cheat on you. He is a gentleman when it comes to his ladies.

-She will offer you limbs and parts of demons for you to eat, if you take them then eating demons for snacks would be something both of you eat on a daily basis together

-If not then she’ll respect your decision and will try her best to make food you actually will eat, wanting to make you as comfortable as possible during the times you hang out.

-Best girl to get help or advice from. She’s literally the best. No one can compete. She’ll sit and listen to any problems you have, whether it’s relationship problems with Alastor, or something different. She’ll give you the most genuine advice she could give you

-I’d like to think you both enjoy wearing matching outfits together. Just two best friends wearing stunning clothes. She’ll definitely try to get you into her style, and you most likely will.

-Overall she’s your perfect, sweet gossiping bestie

[franavu]

I think one of the problems with C3 is structural. Matt seems to be wanting to tell a story with themes about Gods, Divinity and Religion, which, great. But if you're going with those themes one of the worldbuilding questions that should at least be thought about is "in a world where the Gods are real, what does that mean for culture, society and community?" and the answer seems to be "it doesn't". It's like the religion parts are worldbuilding-adjacent, like, "I guess they're religious too." And this was fine for the previous campaigns and literally any other story, but for what C3 is doing, it should at least have been minimally addressed.

Part of it was that Matt could have gone in pre-campaign-prep, "For reasons, your character needs to have an opinion on the Gods that is rooted in your background." Something like, "the orphanage that Ashton grew up in was run by Lawbearer people and they came down hard on even minimal rule breaking, which made it a miserable place for a kid like Aston to grow up in, so he's understandably bitter." Or, "of course Chetney prays to the All-Hammer, he's a craftsman, he tries to go to the temple on his holy day, but he hasn't managed it for the last 20 years, and he feels vaguely guilty about it." That would have at least given the PCs some connection to the larger narrative.

It's also that in the whole first arc the Gods weren't relevant unless the BHs specifically needed a priest for something. And themes of religion could have been there from the beginning, which could have connected with the overall Predathos narrative. I think something really interesting could have been done with Jrusar, and worship of the Lawbearer and the Wildmother, and civilization rising from the wilds. It needn't have been particularly invasive, just there in the background, the same way the governmental structure was explained but not particularly relevant for what the BHs were doing there.

And it's such a shame, because Matt is really good with personal faith, and individual interaction with the Gods, but it seems to break down with organized religion. And I don't know if it's a blindspot, or if he was so busy during pre-campaign-prep that he just went with what he had, which, again, would have been perfectly fine for literally any other story, just not this one. It's just that this whole campaign feels like missed opportunities, and the feeling like it could have been so much better. 

(Like, for example, a personal frustration is that the Vasselheim parts could have shown diversity in forms of worship for different parts of Exandria, and diversity in ritual from priests of different Prime Deities, and show that despite their differences they are all working together towards a common goal. Instead in communal situations, we get fantasy-Protestantism, with a sprinkle of fantasy-Catholicism ritual on top. (And don't get me started on the alcohol ban, don't the fruits come from the Wildmother's bounty, grown and harvested under the Dawnfather's aegis? Isn't the All-Hammer the God of all craftsmen, including the vintner and the brewer?) It could have still been a bleak and hard place, just rooted specifically in the religions and Gods of Exandria.)