#but vampires have better healing factors

[mt10lt20]

AC6 - Bad End. If Strangereal had faes and monsters. Ilya (Strigon ver.) >> Talisman

[dcxdpdabbles]

Is it possible to have some more Mr Flavour please?

The first thing he notices is the soft mattress underneath him. It's such a stark difference between the bed of his motel and even the bed at his house that Danny knows he's nowhere near his tax bracket.

There is such a thing as too comfortable. The sinking feeling of the plush pillow around his head is entirely like that.

When he blinks and opens his eyes, he finds that someone has placed him in a large bed with a canopy bed. Shifting about tells him that all four of his limbs were tied to the bedposts, and although he's not pulled taunt, he definitely isn't going anywhere without his powers.

The chains used were long enough that he would likely be able to shift about but not get off the bed. It looks like they were meant to allow him to move in the middle of the mattress, but that's it.

Curiously, he heaves himself into a sitting position, mindful of not going too far in any direction, running his eyes over the bedroom he finds himself in. It takes him a moment to notice that everything is themed around a mushroom forest, almost as if he was dropped in the setting of a fantasy novel.

He realized his clothes had also been changed, starting to look at the silk-like tights and tunic. He felt a weight shift when he moved his back to bring his knees up and lean on them. Glancing over his shoulder, he found a pair of wings strapped to his body.

Danny tilts his head before he goes back to surveying the room, and his eyes catch the mirror of a light brown wooden vanity. His reflection looks back at him with carefully done make-up. He has dark navy blue eyeshadow but with glitter resting on them and his cheeks to remember stars, the twinkle-looking kind. White eyeliner was also used to paint sharp butterfly-looking wings from the edges of his eyes pointing towards his ears.

Metal cuffs shaped like pointed ears were added to his ears, and a pin was attached to his hair, which held tiny little daises, even in his few strands of hair.

A jeweled collar is wrapped around his neck as thick as his thumb, with the North Star resting just over his Adam's apple.

The bed he was sitting in had a mushroom top that spanned out with a bright red cap and white poke dots. He could not see it from underneath it, but it looked like his bed was the steam of the mushroom.

Oscar dressed him up like a garden fairy.

"This feels like it was way too much effort," Danny mutters, staring at his reflection. He looks annoyingly pretty, offended the style fits him so well. He thinks he would have made a way better vampire. At least Sam would find it funny. "I have to handle it to him, though; he knows his way around a make-p brush. Wonder if I can get out of here."

Danny tugs on the chains, pulling his limbs as far as they go before a nasty pop is heard, and he has to bite down on his lower lip to stop a scream. His left wrist is useless, having snapped. A wave of agony courses through him until his healing factor kicks in long enough to snap his bone back, but the soreness lingers.

Phantom was just out of reach still, hidden somewhere underneath his skin.

"Guess not," he sighs. A few minutes pass, and Danny fills the void by reciting the periodic table and their atom masses. But when he grows bored of that, he starts patting his knees to a random beat, making popping sounds with his mouth.

That leads to him singing, at first, a few words from actual songs, then it drifts into nonsense.

He finishes his little jingle for his sodas, creating a rip-off of commercial jingles from home, adding more ecstatic slaps against his knees in a fast-paced drum roll.

He attempts to think of a rhyme for soda, using words he believes aren't real when the wall across from his bed suddenly shifts.

Danny hadn't even realized the open space across from his bed was a door since it blended so well with the flowers that decorated the wall. Oscar stands in the doorway, still wearing his suit and smiling his oily grin. "How is my lovely little fairy?"

Danny waves at him. "Hey, fruitloop. Here to kill me?"

Oscar laughs, steps in, and closes the door behind him. He crosses the room to carefully caress his hair. Danny hisses, but it does nothing to deter the man, who sighs lovingly, "I could never harm you. You're the first of your kind in my collection. Usually, my fairies have lighter hair like those of the forest, but you're from the stars, aren't you? My lovely cosmos fairy."

"Hmmm," Danny squints, "I don't like this. Just kill me."

The man laughs, dragging Danny into a hug by the chain on his left arm. "You are so mischievous and defiant. I should have collected your kind years ago."

Danny allows the hug only to feel Oscar's pockets press against him. He doesn't feel like a key is on Oscar's person, nor does he feel like he is carrying a weapon.

Quick as a wipe, Danny throws out his fist, nailing the older man between the legs. Oscar wheezes, but not enough to make him stumble. He squeezes his arms tighter, encaging Danny, and the pulled chains limit his movements.

Danny struggles against him until his eyes land on the mirror again, watching as his kidnapper grabs the side of the watch. "No misbehaving."

One click later, the North Star lights up. Shockwaves of electricity rush through his body as a scream is ripped from his throat. Distantly, his mind flashes back to the last time he felt this sensation- when he opened the portal on himself. His body spams about as Oscar coos into his hair, muttering reassurances until the power dies.

"Good boy. Such a good boy.," Oscar mutters as Danny gasps against his chest. "A good fairy can be mischievous but not misbehave, right?"

Danny opens his mouth to snap at him when he notices a glow in the corner of his eye. He raises his hands, staring at the familiar sight of Phantom's glow, feeling his heart leap with joy as his healing kicks in. He wonders if he finally got his powers back.

He wills his body to flout, to sink through solid, or even to vanish from sight, but nothing happens. He gains a new piece of his other half, but not nearly enough to turn into him. There is only a glow to his skin for now.

Oscar obviously sees it, for he gasps with delight. "My star fairy, shining for me."

Danny headbutts him, but even though he causes the man's nose to bleed, all he does is laugh and pet Danny like a cat. Another button press has the chains retreating into the wall, flinging Danny back on the bed, spread out and unable to move.

The teen frowns when Oscar eventually leaves him, promising to build him a galaxy room soon. A few hours go by, and a dull ache builds up in his limbs, but eventually, the man returns, setting up some glow-in-the-dark star stickers on the top of his bed. He rewards Danny's "good" behavior by allowing the chains to grow, and he's back to being able to move on the bed.

Days go by like this when Danny attempts to force the man to use the button, wondering if he needs electricity to finally have Phantom back. Sadly, nothing seems to upset Oscar, who chalks every act of defiance as a characteristic of his "star fairy" genes.

Eventually, Danny grows bored, even though Oscar regularly brings him food and walks him to a bathroom where he is ordered to shower—thankfully without the man inside but attached to the chains of the shower walls—and retouches his make-up with great care. His clothes are always replaced with new, clean versions, even with the same design. He doesn't know how long he's been trapped here, but he is sure it's a few days.

"Can I make sodas?" He asks while Oscar is laying behind him, hugging Danny to his chest like the teen was a giant teddy bear. There is, thankfully, nothing intimate about it, just holding him while they slept. "I'm bored."

"Of course. Your kind needs mental stimulation rather than the physical kind, don't you? That's why you made your drinks before; you wanted humans to need your potions." The fruitloop mutters, tucking the galaxy blanket over Danny's shoulder. "I'll bring you things tomorrow."

The following days are a little more leisurely with his soda-making. Oscar had his men find Danny's motel, taking everything he needed to create his Mr. Flavor soda and sets up three tables next to the bed for him to work. Apparently, Danny is his calmest fairy, so the chains around his wrists are removed, and the ones around his ankles increase in length.

Danny can now freely move about the room to his heart's content. Oscar vanishes for hours on end but eventually always comes back every night to watch Danny work on his sodas. He brings glass bottles the two fill, and Oscar hauls them away to who knows where.

Danny can't really tell the time as there are no windows, and the only source of light is one large lamp hanging from the ceiling. However, Oscar's behavior has a pattern. The older man shuts off the giant lamp and lights some fairy lights, leaving the room in a dull glow.

He only does that when the pair go to bed, making him think it's nighttime. Danny carefully counts the hours from there.

One day, Oscar doesn't come back, as the hours drag to what he knows is nighttime. This is his chance. He takes his wooden spoon, the one he uses to mix the syrups in a bored flavor experiment, biting down on it as hard as he can.

Danny grabs his feet, bending them until two nasty cracks are heard. The wood muffles his scream, but even as his healing attempts to fix the damage, he yanks and pulls his limb until it slips through the metal cuffs.

Once they land on the ground with a clack, Danny is hit with a wave of nausea. His tunic is coated in sweat, his head is swimming, and he doesn't feel Phantom, but Danny is free.

A few minutes go by when his healing gets to work to fix the damage as he drags himself to where the door is. The chains had allowed him to wander there, but he never attempted to pry it open.

Today, he not only tries, he succeeds. His bare feet return to a healthy state, allowing him to stand in the doorway. Outside his colorful galaxy, slowly losing the first theme bedroom, is a long grey hallway filled with other doors.

Each door has a number painted in a large black font.

Danny glances both ways, sees no one, and sprints down the hallway on his right. He makes it all the way to the end, where all that's visible is a single door. He looks over his shoulder to where he came from and finds that his room is the last one in the hallway, showing no exit.

He gulps, praying this is the way out while carefully twisting the door numb as quietly as possible. Thankfully, no soul is in sight when he pushes the door open.

The first thing he realizes is that the space is much smaller than his cell, looking more like a broom closet than anything else. Inside, a chair is set up in front of multiple monitors that are all handing over a large desk. Two file cabinets are on the side, but that's all the room there is for.

Squinting, Danny realizes it's a security system. Getting closer, he watches as various light brown hair people dressed as fairies are shown chained up, moving about their rooms frantically and fearfully.

They are all forest themes with a number on the corner of the screen. Danny realizes he knows those numbers and glances back over his shoulder. Sure enough, the numbers are in the same font and color as the ones on the screens.

Well.

Danny hums, rummaging through the office in search of keys. He is alight with dying, but he doubts the other people Oscar has kidnapped are Halfas in waiting. There is nothing on the desk, so he turns his attention to the file cabinets

Inside are deranged notes on fairies' habits. Records of their diet behavior and a shockingly large amount of physical exercise for each kidnapped person are documented.

Apparently, where Danny, a star fairy, needs mental simulation, the forest fairies need to do HIT training mixed in with random types of Dance to keep them happy and healthy.

Number 4 was tap dancing, while Number 7 was doing ballet. It was so unfair. He would have loved to develop some muscle here, making his new desire to break into the grid storage easier.

Maybe he could shock Phantom back. The next drawer has his bottled sodas, which clack against each other. A note about storing his potions for future healing is on top of them, and Danny's face twitches.

Fruitloop.

He considers the drinks before deciding the other captives may need an energy boost to help them leg it when he sets them free. He grabs a premade hanging water cooler, swinging it over his shoulder after checking to make sure his sodas are inside.

Eventually, Danny finds a ring of keys at the bottom of the last drawer. After confirming that the exact numbers are painted on them, he rushes out of the office. He arrives at number 1 with a cheer and flings it open.

A man in his mid-twenties jumps a good foot off the lofted tree-shaped bed. He is also dressed as a fairy, but instead of Danny's blue and purple hues, this one is in different shades of brown, and his face is clean.

A similar color to the one Danny wears is wrapped around his neck, but the centerpiece is a large oak tree instead of a star.

Danny grins, holding out a bottle of cola. "Hey man, want a drink?"

The stranger only has chains around his wrists, which means he can scramble to the back of the wall the second Danny speaks, "What?"

"Oh, by the way, I'm doing a prison break. You in?" He laughs, swinging the keys around his other hand.

Hours later, Number 1—he refused to give Danny his name after the boy attempted to rip off the collar on their necks. Apparently, explaining that he wanted to feel the zap all over his body instead of wanting to set Number 1 free was "alarming"—it had helped him free all nine captives.

The Halfa was the youngest among the group, as everyone else was at least older than twenty, though it looked like ages ranged from early twenties to late forties.

The only things they shared were chestnut hair and earth-themed fairy costumes. Danny stood out for more than just his manic grin and bubbly personality. He offered one of his sodas at every rescue.

Everyone had accepted a drink from the overly cheerful child, who eyed Danny with distrust but was willing to follow him through the last door. It led to a ladder drilled into the wall. Danny volunteered to go up first, ensuring the coast was clear after forcing a latch to open above him.

Oscar had stashed them in a bunker far outside Gotham's city limits. It took some coaxing, but Dannt got the group to wander through the darkness, holding hands so as not to lose anyone. His powers weren't entirely back, but he's always been able to see a bit better in the dark than his friends.

He chatted the whole time, offering more bottles whenever someone grew too anxious. He spent twenty minutes describing all the flavors he made for his sodas, taking careful steps through small dips in the uneven ground. It seemed the bunker was on a hill, isolated from people.

Eventually, they caught sight of a road, and everyone breathed a breath of relief when a car came into view. It was three loops of curling roadways down below. Still, it passed under the only light post, showing a sleek black model that indicated wealth.

Number 3- who also refused to tell him her name- was in the process of thanking the heavens that someone could help them when Danny demanded that everyone drop.

It was gratifying when they all did it without a second thought.

"That's Oscar's vehicle. He drove it at the restaurant." He hisses as the car rounds the cliff's side, nearing them. The air grows cold as the rest of the victims try to hide in the shadows.

It won't work. Despite the fact that they are on high hills, there is no coverage. The second Oscar's headlights were within reach so he would see them.

Danny considers the sobbing Number 3, her once joy now gone, and realizes she doesn't want to be found. Unlike him, if she gets hurt, she won't unlock the powers that had once made him unbreakable.

He takes off his cooler and hands it over to Number 1 with a soft command: "Stay low, and no matter what, don't try to save me."

"What-"

Danny stands from his hiding spot, flinging himself over the edge of the cliffside in a familiar leap and landing with a loud thump on the lower hill. He drags himself to his feet, running in the opposite direction of the group, singing at the top of his lungs his new Mr. Falvor jingle.

Oscar's headlights fall over him as the man hits the brakes. A second of silence later, the car turns on its wheels with a loud screech as Danny rushes to the edge of the second loop.

"My Star! What are you doing!?" Oscar cries, but the tone sounds amused as Danny flings himself over the edge with a cheer.

"Come catch me! I want to play a game!" He calls out, ignoring the ache of his knees, and takes off in a run the second he lands. He hears the roar of the motor as Oscars round the side, foot on the accelerator, and laughs alongside Danny.

He barely makes the leap when the vehicle smashes against the road railing. Oscar had attempted to run him over.

"Oh, you naughty star fairy!" The car is thrown in reverse and starts down the much longer road as the man driving it sings Mr.Flavor's jingle. Danny doesn't look towards the victims, worried he'll give them away, as he whoops loudly and takes over into a sprint.

The longer road bought him time, but now it's just him against a speeding car. There is no light down here, and he forces himself to be as fast as possible. He can hear Oscar getting closer, but he pushes through, wanting to put distance between them and the other kidnapped people.

He uses the fact there are trees alongside the road to his advantage, but beyond that is a cliffside and the crashing waves of the sea. He could jump, but even if that brought back Phantom, Oscar would potentially cut his losses and turn back, catching the hiding group. He weaves through the barks as Oscar drives behind him, yelling about punishments and naughty fairies.

He gets pretty far, he thinks, the hill with the bunker long behind him, looking much smaller when Danny runs out of trees. Then it's just him and the open space. Oscar's headlights bathe him as the man jumps off the road, speeding until the motor sounds like a roaring monster.

Danny can't outrun him, so he doesn't. He stops, twists on his heel, and spreads his arms wide open. He doesn't close his eyes as the lights get closer, and he sees Oscar's mad, flushed face seconds before the metal rams into him.

"KID!" A horrified cry fills the air as Danny is thrown from the windshield. It's like time has slowed down.

He manages to turn his head in time to see multiple police cars come to a stop just a few feet away from him, a man in the process of throwing himself out of his car, one arm stretched toward Danny.

His face is twisted in horror, but Danny recognizes his eyes. It's the masked man who felt guilty the day he was kidnapped. Ha. He knew he was an undercover cop.

Danny hits the ground hard, rolling three times before he lies broken and tired. His skin is glowing, and his hair puffs up a little, like it was electrocuted, but that's the only real chain besides the multiple wounds on his body.

Phantom's powers are still not entirely back.

He feels numb as the background noise of the police swarming Oscar is heard, with one of the Gotham heroes leading the charge with a war cry. Danny can't bring himself to turn his head but watches Red Robin fly by on his motorbike, aiming the front wheel hood of Oscar's car.

He uses that as a springboard to launch himself through the front windshield- already cracked by Danny's body, and attacking the driver like a beast. Police near the car, all with guns pointed and shouting.

Someone drops to their knees in front of Danny blocking his view. It's the same undercover cop who is talking fast and desperate, but Danny can't really understand him because of the ringing in his head. He feels his healing factor finally start, but it's much slower than normal.

Hands carefully turn him onto his back so they can put some pressure on the bleeding coming from his neck. Glass had smashed against his flesh there, and Danny hadn't even noticed.

The man's desperate face fades in and out of focus until his healing finally pops his ears, and sound rushes through his senses.

"-going to be alright!" The man is screaming. "Hang on, kid. Hang on. What's the ETA on the medics!?"

"Five minutes! Keep putting pressure on his wounds, Grayson!" someone shouts back out of Danny's eyesight. Hmm, dark spots are appearing in his vision now. He was going to pass out soon.

He should tell Officer Grayson about the rest of the Numbers before he does.

"The Others...."He coughs, spitting some blood. The man's face spams.

"Don't talk. Save your strength," he commands, but Danny ignores him, forcing his hand to raise and point to where the group was hiding.

"The others...are hiding....I lead....Oscar away.....from them. They need help.....please." He babbles, watching tears gather in the man's blue eyes. He blames himself—Danny can see it clearly as day—for putting the Halfa in this position the day he helped the rest kidnap him.

Obviously, he needed to do it to find the rest, but that doesn't stop the guilt from eating him alive right in front of Danny. He forces his face to twist into a smile.

"Don't be sad....I told you....I wanted to be a ghost." His words are a bit clearer as his healing throbs around his throat, but it's all he can handle. He fells himself, fading as the look of devastation clouds Officer Grayson's face. Just as Danny passes out, he mutters. "Delete Oscar's footage of my soda making. It's my secret formula."

He surrenders the blissful darkness as the ambulance sirens fill the air.

[iron-touch]

Of Bones and Body Horror: Bad to the Bone and How JoJo Weaponizes Fear

While this essay focuses on Stand design for the main villains of JoJo, it is also meant to explain the creation process for Boney and his Stand, Bad to the Bone, in Iron Touch. Spoilers for Chapter 38 of Iron Touch and all of canon JoJo below!

In recent years, I feel there's been a push for villains and antagonists in fiction to be sympathetic to the heroes and audience, usually with the endgame of redeeming them by the end of the story. While this is a perfectly fine character archetype, my favorite type of villains are the ones that you love to hate. You understand why they do the things they do, but you do not want them to succeed or have a happy ending. Someone you can rally against and want to see the protagonist defeat. Whether they're a misunderstood friend or a brutal tyrant, though, the main antagonist of any given story must pose a challenge for the protagonist, and in the context of a JoJo part, I think the best way to do that is through fear.

While the Grand Marshal was also designed with these principals in mind (suppression and mind control are both Very Scary™), it's with Boney and Bad to the Bone that I think I best executed the concept of fear and intimidation in a villain. Besides, at this point, I consider Boney to be more of a """"main"""" antagonist than the Grand Marshal is.

When making a character/ability designed to invoke fear in a shonen story, there's two key concepts that you should keep in mind.

First of all, it needs to seem unbeatable. This isn’t just a villain we’re talking about, this is the main villain. Whenever the audience sees their ability in action, they should think "how the hell are the heroes going to beat that?" They should be a step above everyone else at first glance, otherwise it won’t feel like there’s as much of a threat for the protagonist to overcome. This is where I came up with Boney's resurrective ability. If you see someone die and die and die over and over again, to the point where they just casually kill themselves and come back fine later, how can someone ever expect to truly defeat them? That, and it had two bonus points going for it: it goes against a fundamental rule of Stands that Jotaro lays out ("no Stand can revive the dead"), and it parallels Diavolo's ultimate fate at the end of Vento Aureo.

The second thing is a little more complicated. The ability itself should invoke fear. Any superpower can be scary in the right environment; you can put a guy with super strength in a series where none of the other characters have any special powers and he'll seem scary by default. That's not what I mean. Something about the ability should be fundamentally terrifying.

To better explain what I mean, let's compare Dio and Dio. Err, I mean, Dio and DIO

Designing for Intimidation vs. Designing for Fear

I don't care what anyone says, Dio is a great villain. He's this perfect Satanic archetype that the story expertly frames and builds towards as a powerful adversary, the ultimate threat. He's egotistical, calculating, weirdly charismatic, and most importantly, scary. Both Phantom Blood Dio and Stardust Crusaders Dio convey the feeling of fear extremely well, but they both do it in different ways. You can best see this through their respective abilities.

The vampires in JoJo have some pretty scary abilities. There's the classic blood sucking and healing factor, but then you get the really weird shit like the Space Ripper Stingy Eyes. Compared to other JoJo parts, though, Phantom Blood is a much "lower level" story. That first fight with Dio in the mansion after he rejects his humanity perfectly shows just how strong and durable Dio has become after using the Stone Mask, but it's only as tense as it is because at that point in the story, none of the other characters have any sort of super powers. Put any Stand user worth their salt up against Dio there and suddenly the fight becomes much more even.

Also, really think of the powers that Dio has in Phantom Blood. Super strength, a healing factor, some ice abilities, laser eyes...none of these are really scary on their own, right? You can all find those abilities on an X-Men lineup. I'm not saying that makes them bad or Phantom Blood Dio a bad villain, but he's made scary through his actions and narrative framing more so than just his powers on their own. Dio isn’t an effective villain because he can shoot lasers out of his eyes, he’s an effective villain because he tried to poison the protagonist’s father and fed a baby to its newly zombified mother.

Ironically, I think the scariest of Dio's abilities are the one he neglects to use in combat. He hypnotizes/mind controls a guy at one point and he somehow creates a bunch of grotesque zombie chimeras out of different people and animals. He does send a bunch of these chimeras out after Jonathan, but most of the time they feel like generic grunts rather than imposing monsters or tragic victims.

Compare this to Dio in Stardust Crusaders. The World is as scary as it is iconic, and I think part of the reason that it is so iconic is because of how scary it is. While it does lose some of its fear factor after Jotaro realizes he also has the same ability, it remains a horrifying ability nonetheless.

Time stop goes beyond just intimidating the way something like super strength and laser eyes are. Even if Dio wasn't a vampire, he would still be terrifying with The World (his vampirism just adds some extra sauce to it by making him especially strong and sturdy). It stops everything, everywhere, with just a call of its name. There's nothing you can do against Dio; in fact, you won't even be aware of what he's doing until its already over with. Rewatch the scenes where Dio kills Kakyoin and stabs Joseph in the throat, or even when he surrounds Jotaro with a shit ton of knives. They're all helpless, oblivious to the fact that they're about to die. That is scary.

What makes it even better is that the whole part builds up to this reveal. As early as the Steely Dan fight, the Crusaders beg and bargain with Dio's cronies to reveal the secret to his Stand, and we even get to see little out of context demonstrations of it later on in the part (like when Hol Horse tries to shoot Dio or when Dio moves Polnareff down the stairs). The fan speculation surrounding what the hell The World's ability was must've been wild at the time of Stardust Crusaders' initial release. While the reveal doesn't have the same impact it once had, those early readers must've been blown away back in the day.

Dio is not the only JoJo villain that's framed like this. Killer Queen installs a certain paranoia that anything someone touches could literally blow up in their face, King Crimson weaponizes disorientation and the idea of not being fully in control of your body/actions, and Whitesnake takes the idea of wiping your memories up to eleven by outright stealing them. Even ignoring Stand abilities for a second, Kira and Doppio/Diavolo use the idea of a devil hiding in plain sight while Pucci and especially Valentine exploit their positions of power for their own gain.

Now, back to Boney. In addition to his resurrective ability, I wanted something that truly scared me on a personal level. After all, there are a bunch of ways you could bring someone back to life. Michelle even anxiously rambles some of them off in Chapter 35. But that wasn't good enough for me. It needed to be scary.

Transformational body horror is something that I've always been scared by. I think my first exposure to anything like that was that one episode of SpongeBob where he spends the whole segment slowly morphing into a snail (as I'm writing this, I'm wondering if this episode is also what gave me my fear of needles, given that a syringe is what starts the transformation). I'm 24 now and I still can't watch that episode. David Cronenberg's The Fly is the scariest movie I've ever seen purely because of the vile, nauseating body horror on display throughout most of the film. I remember accidentally stumbling across a transformation porn story on DeviantArt as a kid (I didn’t even realize it was a fetish thing until I was much older) and being completely revolted by it. This shit freaks me the hell out. Our bodies are our most personal aspects of ourselves; so having them be forcefully, non-consensually violated and mutated into someone else, something else is perhaps one of the most sickening experiences I can imagine.

So of course I had to put it in Iron Touch!

It was precisely that disgust and terror that I wanted to convey with Bad to the Bone. Boney doesn't just die, he doesn't just take you down with him, he forces you to become him. Against your will, you are forced to metamorphosize into an adult man, feeling every muscle and bone twist and contort into something definitively not your own, and that will be the last thing you experience before your soul is overridden and erased forever. That is scary.

I decided to have Bad to the Bone be activated by touch because it was specific enough for Boney to have control over while also being inconspicuous enough to feel like a threat in every day life. It's got that Killer Queen feel to it; anything Kira touches can turn into a bomb, while anyone Boney touches can turn into him. Since Iron Touch and most of its main cast was conceptualized in mid-2020, I wouldn't be surprised if certain current events at the time also influenced this aspect of the Stand.

Another thing I find interesting is that while JoJo does body horror a lot, it generally doesn't freak me out or make me uncomfortable. I can watch Rohan turn people into books just fine, I can watch Jolyne unravel herself into string without a sweat, I can watch Cioccolata dissolve people into mold no problem. Characters get dismembered, cut in half, stabbed, punched, crushed, burned alive, and even decapitated and I don't flinch. The only time the anime ever made me scared or uncomfortable through its body horror was when Dio's bone started turning everyone into plants in Stone Ocean (I remember some of the stuff with the Corpse Parts freaking me out in Steel Ball Run, but its been a while since I've read it and I don't feel like going back and looking for the specific panels that gave me the heebie jeebies).

I think what separates people turning into plants from something like Heaven's Door is the process between the two. There's no great effort of Heaven's Door turning into people into books, nor do they fully turn into books, their face just peels open like a book and they've got a bunch of pages underneath (oh, and Okuyasu's arm got all twisty I guess). That sounds a lot more graphic than it actually is. It's too instantaneous and fantastical to freak me out. Holes may start to show up in Jolyne's skin as she unravels herself into string, but she's also always fully in control of this ability and there's never any gore shown underneath the exposed skin. These abilities don't convey that sense of a forceful, even painful metamorphosis the same way that something like The Fly does, no matter how overpowered or deadly they are. That's what freaks me out about the plant guy in Stone Ocean. The sequence in the anime where his eye turns into a flower is expertly animated, but god damn it made me feel sick.

So, that's how I came up with Bad to the Bone. But that's just me. What does all this talk about fear and body horror do for you?

For people writing JoJo fanparts or stories heavily inspired by JoJo, I hope that this serves as a helpful guide for conceptualizing your main villains. One of the biggest hurdles I see people come across when writing a story like this is Stand development, with the main protagonist and antagonist being the biggest source of frustration among up and coming authors. While protagonists are another beast entirely, for antagonists, people often get caught up in making their Stand the strongest or most complex thing they can think of. From what I've seen, this usually doesn't go well. Instead, focus on what scares you. The main villain should be the last person you'd want to fight, so you'd better give them a good reason for that.

[incognitonio]

A little scenario where Marcy notices Finn being bit too intense during one of the dungeon duo adventures. Usually, he's the first one to take a break and recuperate as he still needs to catch his breath or tend to his injuries but this time, she's becoming a bit more concerned about his lack of concern for his own well-being.

She has less stuff to worry about since she has both vampire and demon powers as well as the fact that most dungeons are dark and located underground which means that she mostly looks out for cool loot and her buddy. She knows Finn is a tough guy and can handle things by himself pretty well but something tells her he's dealing with a different kind of pain that can't be solved by a healing factor.

I wanted to make a small comic about Finn dealing with personal stuff, the most prominent one is the loss of Jake in his life. That episode where he goes on an adventure with Simon and him being oblivious or desensitized to the dangers around him made me think that Finn is adventuring as hard as he can so he can live life to the fullest while also having a good enough excuse to die sooner without it being considered suicidal. That and his line about secretly wanting to see Jake again in the Together again episode inspired this weird little headcanon I have about him.

Not really used to making comics and dialogue yet. I gotta learn how to write better lines and panels.

[jojoma]

Some time ago I wrote out points why I ship Astarion with Karlach (them remains my favorite and headcanonical ship in the entire game). But I understand how conflicting and possibly traumatic the relationship is. I wanted to write a lil bit about this. But it'll be a long post 😁

The game is currently bugged in such a way that the couple doesn't have a happy end (in my opinion, cuz Karlach return to Avernus only with AA), but there is an absolutely sad ending (when spawn Astarion runs away from the sun and Karlach die alone). I, like many other hellspawn enjoyers (snezhjeyka, decembersiris), thought about how much it would be better if they died together on the pier. At least it's better than what is happening in the spawn Astarion playthrough by now (described above). They both are deprived of a normal life, both refuse to live without what is valuable to them (Faerûn, sun) and without each other, and both turn to dust. It's very poetic, tragic and etc. But I'm more interested in angst before this.

I mean only the player knows all the variations of events. For example, that Karlach can be fixed or that Karlach cannot be turned into a vampire. The relationship has no prospects from their points of view, and the options that they have cannot completely satisfy both.

Karlach dies quite quickly. She can die in her beloved world or try to survive in the hells. And we all know what Karlach think about it — she would rather die now and here. But as soon as Karlach start relationship with someone, it becomes also her lover’s problem. It would be strange if her partner accepted that Karlach would die so soon without even trying to convince her. Now put Astarion into this place: he is just beginning to heal and feel alive. Even before he defeat Cazador, loving relationship with a patient and gentle partner (such as Karlach) can influence him in a good way. So Astarion is afraid to lose his lover and Karlach is afraid to return to Zariel’s place.

On the other hand, Astarion needs to decide what he'll do with the ritual and soon enough. And unlike Karlach, he doesn't know what to do. In my opinion, if Astarion could make the choice on his own, based on background he would be choose ascension. The decisive factor in the other direction can only be his love interest. My strong headcanon is this: as Astarion will not agree with her early death, as Karlach will never agree to become his spawn (10 years of slavery to Zariel was enough for my babygirl). And any of other companions or Tav/Durge as Astarion's lover can offer to stay with him, help him full recover and adapt to a new life (anyway spawn Astarion will be alone in the future). Karlach doesn't have such opportunity at the moment, and her condition lead into the hell with no guarantee of survival or return to Faerûn. It requires some sacrifices from Astarion, which due to his condition, he may not be ready for.

I can imagine such dialogues before bedtime, turning into heated disputes:

— I'm worried about your condition, Karlach. — I don't want to talk about it. — There's other options. I think you should return to Avernus with me. — Well, and I think you shouldn't get involved to the ascension ritual. I know you want to take Cazador's place. — It's not up to you to decide. This way I can protect you and may even save you by turning you into a vampire. — I'll never become yours or anyone else's spawn, thank you!

I need to stop making myself sad 😢 They deserve a very very happy end.

[ginger-snap-makes-art]

Lucky: Memoirs From the Backlot

Lucky

Memoirs from the Backlot

By: Ginger Snap

1914

There are many things that one may constitute as ‘lucky’. It is lucky, for instance, to find 10 dollars on your way to work. To see your cat sleeping comfortably on the neighbors porch after he took off through the open front door. To have a warm, safe home and parents who love you. To not be turned into an immortal creature of the night by a nefarious nosferatu with a textile mill to fill, and to love someone very dearly and openly without societal or personal repercussions.

If you were to judge one’s luck on those factors, Benoit Blanchette (or Blanchet, if you asked him how to spell it) and William O’Reilly were possibly the two most unlucky people alive.

But, none of that was enough to ruin them. After all, the two had managed to find each other after all their time apart, find new friends and new found glory as a preteen pair of vampire abolitionists, and even began to heal the many wounds their impossible childhoods set upon them. Now, decades away from where they had begun, the two maintained steady employment, changing the world in whatever ways they could through film making.

Benny winding days away rearranging scenes and talking actors through motivations to characters lives they would never fully want to understand. William spending hours upon hours putting pen to paper-dutifully writing dialogue and prose burning with love and longing and passion that would put a tear in the eye of any easily impressed actresses on set. Then, every night they could look forward to coming to their small, one room cabin and sharing their woes and wonders from the quick days around the lot. Talking long into the night about new ideas, old friends and adventures journeyed on together, and sometimes just lying next to each other-both feeling content in each other's warmth and company.

To spend not a day apart from one another, and to feel fulfilled in their livelihoods was to feel quite lucky indeed.

It’s a shame that their luck always found a way to run dry.

------------------------------------------------------------

“Two days???” William repeated, incredulous to his boss as he reiterated the information for the 4th time.

“He’ll be completely safe, we just need him for a meeting in Chicago with some benefactors. They’re very surprised we’d even allow a vampire on set and we just think Benoit will be a better representative for the company. He’s less….”

“Tall?” Benny offered.

“…intimidating. You’re very good with the people on set but I worry your stature and quiet demeanor would make them nervous. Also Zippy stares and it frightens people.” Mr. Horsley finished as delicately as possible. “Anyway, we can’t force you to do anything but we can’t afford to take you both. It’s Benny or I have nothing.”

William wanted to call bull. He was just as charming as Benny. Sure, Benny had those soft, deep eyes and that warm country twang and that bravado that came so naturally when telling a story you’d think he was born for entertainment; but he also had a propensity for putting his foot in his mouth. Like everything else about him Benny would let his words get too fast for his own good and wind up saying something that would earn him a death glare at best and gunshot to the chest at worst. What if he wasn’t there to stop any problems, what would happen then? God he couldn’t handle it if Benny got himself hurt because he wasn’t there to balance out all his loud bombastic energy.

“But I-“

“William,” Benny interjected. “It’s fine. I can handle two days with Horsley and a few other oldies.” He gave William an assuring smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’ll be okay.”

“Well…if you’re sure, I trust you…” William replied nervously.

Benny threw another shirt in his suitcase. “Alright, I’ll call that packed. When do I get going?” He asked, pulling the bag over his shoulder.

“The car is just about packed up-just give the driver your bag on your way out and we’ll leave in 30.”

Benny’s face paled a little. At the best of times moving machines made Benny ill. Trains, boats-even carousels got his stomach to lurch uncomfortably-but cars were the absolute worst. They were too slow for him and made little rocking and ricketing motions that felt so unnatural. But, Benny couldn’t afford to get lost running there himself and the producers felt the need to ‘coach’ Benny on proper etiquette for the meeting. He supposed that you could only tell so many stories about turning well-to-do mages into paste before someone got nervous introducing you to wealthy folk.

William nudged him and gave him a look, silently asking:

“You gonna be okay?”

Benny swallowed hard and nodded. Horsley turned around and left the room, leaving the two alone.

“Hey, you know you don’t have to do this, right?” William asked.

“I know but, it’ll be good for the company. They’ve done a lot for us, I can manage this.”

“This is the longest we’ll have been apart since….” William trailed off.

He didn’t need to finish, they both knew what he was going to say.

“Yeah…I know…but, hey! We’ve been through worse! We can handle two days away from each other! Hell, it’ll probably be good for us: we need to know we can still survive on our own, right?” Benny asked.

William felt his throat tighten a little. He couldn’t even fathom going through a whole day with his best friend being there at some point. It wasn’t like they were in danger or anything, not like before they joined Nester studios. But still, he couldn’t imagine going to sleep alone tonight. Part of him did worry like he’d somehow be unable to make it through two boring days alone on a quiet, unassuming film set in the middle of nowhere. Stupid as that felt.

“Yeah. Yeah that’ll be good.” He finally responded.

If Benny felt any more confident than William he might’ve commented on how he obviously didn’t believe that, but it felt a little like calling the kettle black. So instead he changed the subject.

“Alright, well, since I’m gonna be gone and I do most of the chores around here I should probably run down what needs to be done.”

William groaned. “Oh come onnnnnn, they can’t wait a few days?” William hated doing chores. Anytime he tried anything around the house it was like his brain leaked out of his ears and he would manage to screw the simplest things up. He just wasn’t built for domestic labor. Thank god Benny was so naturally good at it and got a weird joy out of keeping a home, so it never seemed to matter.

Benny rolled his eyes. “No, dummy. We got a schedule to keep up with, if we give up on it now we’ll never get back on it. It’s just a few simple tasks: I think you’ll manage while I’m gone. Yer the smartest guy I know, after all.”

“…how am I a dummy and ‘the smartest guy you know’?”

“I don’t know a lot of people.” Benny shot back a shrug.

“On second thought, why don’t you up the trip to a week?”

-----------------------------------------------------------

Benny waved one final goodbye to William and Zippy before hopping in the back seat of the car and speeding off onto the main road.

Zippy and William watched the car disappear into the distance until only dust clouds remained.

“Alright Zippy, it’s just you and me for the next two days! What’s the play? Chess? Darts? You wanna get really into wood carving and then give up on it a week in?” William asked.

“Oh.” Zippy scratched the back of his neck. “I actually have plans.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah I’m gonna go dig a really deep hole in the desert with some of the grips.”

“Why?”

“Seemed fun.”

“...Can I come?”

“I don’t really think it’s my place to invite anyone…”

“Oh…well…have fun?”

“Yeah…”

The two stood next to each other awkwardly for a few moments before Zippy cleared his throat and walked away to find his hole digging buddies.

“Welp….guess I could get started on that chore list…or maybe I’ll get a head start on my script revisions for Saturday? I’ve got this, I’m not gonna let a little loneliness get me down! I’m also gonna stop talking to myself…publicly…like a total freak…” William’s eyes glanced around at the few crew members giving him confused looks before spinning on his heel and walking inside.

“Okay, I have two days to revise my latest script, do the laundry, sweep the floors, and clean those blood reserve bottles that have definitely coagulated by now. And then I’ve just got to fill the rest of the time with super cool, fun stuff that I’ll brag to Benny about. Piece of cake!”

-----------------------------------------------------------

Two Days Later

Benny stopped on his heels in front of the one room cabin he called home, panting slightly after his journey. It may have been a long run home, but he could not handle being in that car the whole back. For multiple reasons. He rubbed a hand on his face roughly, trying to steady his breaths and soften the obvious anger lines on his face as he approached the front door.

He reached for the knob, but stopped when he heard William talking on the other side.

“Honestly, who do they think they are? ‘Oh, Benoit is just less intimidating than you!’ Bullshit, what does he have that I don’t? Of course between me and Benny it’s always him, isn’t it? Always the talented one, always the charming one-just so lucky to be so blessed. Bet he’s having a wonderful time right now schmoozing rich bastards out of their fortunes with that stupid country accent and those big, ridiculous stories. I’d have stories too if I wasn’t rotting in a mill for a fucking decade. But no, instead Benny is out there living it up while I’m stuck here like a loser who can’t shake out a fucking plot to save his life! God, why is script writing so fucking hard?!” Benny heard the clattering of something crashing against the wall.

Tears burned the corners of his eyes. He took a shaky breath, steeled his nerves, wiped his face, and turned around. If that was really how he felt then he wouldn’t bother burdening him with an early arrival. As he went to step down the front steps he lost his footing, cursing as he tumbled into the dirt below. As he struggled to his feet he heard the sound of the door swinging open and William was standing above him on the porch. As if he didn’t feel small enough already. Ugh, and his hair was down. He had no idea why but somehow William’s hair being in that messy, unruly state of curls and frizz like he had just woken up from a hard night's sleep always made his mouth go dry and-

“Benny? I thought you weren’t supposed to be back for another 8 hours.” William’s voice broke through his racing thoughts.

“Meetin’ ended early. I chose not to stay behind for the drive back. Ran home as fast as I could.” He hoped his words didn’t sound too bitter. “You seemed busy so I figured I would come back later.” He dusted off his jacket and started walking away.

“No!” William yelped suddenly. He paused awkwardly, seemingly surprised at his own outburst. “I mean, uh, I just wasn’t expecting you so soon but it’s really great to have you back early.”

Benny scowled. “You sure? I would think my ‘stupid country accent’ would just distract you while you tried to work.” He spat.

“Oh…you heard that?” William looked at the ground shamefully. “Benny, I didn’t mean any-“

“I’m sure you didn’t.” Benny cut him off haughtily. “I’m sure you didn’t mean for me to overhear any of it.”

“Benny, come on I was frustrated. You know I don't actually think any of that stuff.”

Benny huffed and crossed his arms, looking away.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure the only reason Horsley picked me over you was because the old rich bastards had way more fun making fun of me than they would’ve anybody else. Just one more person out there who can feel better knowin’ they’re smarter than me, right?”

“That’s ridiculous-Horsley is a nice guy, there’s no way he’d bring you along just to throw you to the dogs.”

“If he wanted someone that makes vampires look good he would’ve just taken you.” He sat down on the front steps, head in his hands. “God, I’m such an idiot; I seriously believed that someone saw somethin’ worth seein’ in me. Somethin’ besides a complete joke anyway.”

William sat down next to him, unsure of what to do.

Benny looked up at him, wearily. “ Do you have any idea what it’s like bein’ friends with someone who’s better than you at everythin’ that matters?”

William looked back at him, incredulous. “Are…are you fucking serious right now?”

Benny raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Everyone knows it-you’re the one who’s got everything going for him. Looks, smarts, talent, charm. I’m just the guy who can run fast and is lucky to be your friend.”

William’s eyes narrowed. “ That’s not funny, Benoit.”

“What’s not funny?”

“This. This bullshit you’re pulling on me right now.” He stood back up, fiddling with his needle as he paced. “Do I know what it’s like? As a matter of fact, I do. I’m not an idiot, Benny. There’s no way you don’t notice the way every crew member is enthralled by your stories, how everyone seems to be saved just in the nick of time by your oh-so-sage wisdom about cowboy bullshit, how every two bit actress on set blushes and giggles around you like a braindead, lovesick, basketcase!” He made a frustrated, strangled noise and flopped back down. “Meanwhile, I’M the loser who writes crappy, pulpy, mediocre romance he’s never actually experienced and gets left behind when it’s time to do any of the real studio changing work.”

“Oh don’t give me that.” Benny responded, face flush. “I’m a novelty to our crew, your writin’ is the only thing good and earnest enough to keep these films afloat with all the trashy actors comin’ and goin’, and don’t get me started on all the actresses who I have to hear gush about that ‘tall, mysterious writer’ who gives them their scripts every week!” He groaned. “I’m not even a good director, I’m just a lousy stagehand with a fancier title to make me feel better-you’re the real creative genius.”

“You’re plenty creative.”

“Name one thing I do that isn’t yell ‘cut’ and ‘roll’ and do whiskey runs for Fahrney.” Benny grumbled.

William paused. He hadn’t expected to bring this one up today but he supposed if they were truly airing it all out.

“...You used to play music a lot.”

“Psh. I knew, like, one song.”

“Oh come on, don’t lie to me. I know you wrote some songs yourself. You just don’t ever share them for some reason.”

The color drained from Benny’s face. “How did you- Y-you haven’t heard any of ‘em, did you?”

“No. But I know you write them sometimes in your journal-don’t look at me like that; I know you journal when you think no one’s around, dumbass-and you hum when you write music.”

Benny stared down at his boots. William took his lack of response as clearance to continue.

“I miss your music. What happened to it?”

“Honestly? My guitar broke in Virginia when we had to fight through that swarm of-”

“giant bees with the silver tipped stingers, oh yeah. You broke it over that mage’s skull.” William finished.

“Well he was gonna get the jump on you; I couldn’t let that happen!”

William smiled for the first time since the conversation started, but quickly waned again. “ So, why didn’t you ever get a new one?” He asked. “It’s been years.”

“Didn’t think anyone cared for it much. Gets disheartenin’ after a spell to keep doing somethin’ that everyone around you doesn’t seem to like.”

“I liked it.”

“Why? You don’t listen to music much. Last time we were in the city you hated all the music we heard. Said it was just noisy bullshit.”

“I don’t know…I guess it’s different when it’s you.”

It didn’t seem possible for Benny’s face to get hotter and redder. He said nothing. William shuffled in closer, placing his bad hand on top of Benny’s. Benny gently brought it up to his bad cheek, and the two sat there, any remaining frustration from their spat evaporating and disappearing like mist in the wind.

“We can’t do this to each other.” William said. “We can’t get this jealous of each other. It’s not fair-it just hurts us. I don’t know about you, but I’ve had my fill of leaving you with scars.”

Benny pressed William’s hand harder against his cheek, like he was trying to memorize the feeling of his coarse, black palm contoured against his skin. Normally he’d flinch or wince if that part of his face was touched, but if it hurt he didn’t show any sign of it.

“I’d do anything to keep from leaving you hurt again, Willie. It’s just so hard to see myself as someone with anythin’ when I’m standin’ next to you, you’re so just so…lord I can’t think of a word strong enough to describe what you are. Some days I wake up and I think I must be the luckiest guy in America to be lyin’ next to you.”

“Psh, you’re one to talk.” William smiled, heat burning at his cheeks. “Some days when I wake up next to you and see your face it’s like I’m staring at the sun…but if it didn’t hurt to look directly at the sun, I mean. It’s not that you’re hard to look at, it's that you’re-I’m getting off track.” He took a breath. “I can’t believe I know someone like you. You’re not just something Benny-you’re everything I want.” William paused, eyes flickering with the recognition of what he’d just said, muscles tightening. “ Uh, to be. Everything I want to be.”

“Even with my stupid accent?” Benny laughed, somehow missing the obvious faux pas just committed in front him.

William’s body untensed. “It’s like honeyed silk on my ears.”

“I don’t think that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t have to, it sounds nice.”

“Well you would know-you’re the talented writer here.” Benny smirked up at him, like he had just won an argument William didn’t know they were still having.

William laughed, playfully shoving him away. “Fine, you got me. Maybe I’m not the worst at my job or something, I don’t know.”

The two sat there for just a moment more, wondering if the air felt this warm and comfortable to anyone else in the world right now.

“Alright, enough sappy shit, I need a drink and a change of clothes.” Benny stood up, preparing to head inside.

William shot up, looking more nervous than ever. “Uhhhhh, you sure you aren’t in the mood to go visit Zippy or something first? I hear he dug a really deep hole while you were gone!”

“What?”

“Yeah I don’t know. Or maybe we could-”

“William,” Benny stopped him. “Did you not get all the chores done?”

“Well, I, uh-”

“Come on buddy, it’s okay.” Benoit assured, opening the front door. I'm sure what you did manage was plenty goo-oh dear lord what did you do?”

“I can explain.”

“I have no idea how you possibly could in a way that makes sense but I am dyin’ to know what’s on the ceilin’.”

“That would be our bedsheets.”

“...You know what? If I had seen this before I overheard you talking shit I might’ve been more less upset because if I managed to do this to the house in two days I’d have a breakdown too.”

William laughed nervously. “At least you know for sure there’s something important that you’re always going to be better at than me?” He shrugged.

Benoit blinked a few times.

“Are you mad? You can be mad.” William winced.

Benny’s eyes scanned the room, still in disbelief before a cackle escaped his throat. William looked down at him as he started to double over with laughter and smiled, only one thought going through his head.

“How did I get so lucky?”

[artstar1997]

Happy First Shocktober Day! Halloween is four weeks away and I can finally show the first Monster AU artworks I made for the whole month. Here's Queen Poppy, Branch, and my trollsona, Queen Rose for my Monster AU, where all the trolls characters are gonna be monsters and outcasts (it has lots of horror and monster references so ask me about it).

Rose in the monster AU is a vampire (a strigoi) who is the lead singer and co-leader of both the Snack Pack and the Boo Crew. As the niece of the ultimate vampire king, Count Dracula and the granddaughter of Celestia, the vampire queen of the country that she rules over, Rose is one of the most powerful members of both groups. Highly intelligent, dramatic, sadistic, smart, temperamental, clever, logical, competent, wise, witty, mischievous, cunning and conniving, Rose pulls the strings behind the raids that she and her beast friends would plot against their prey, usually in a form of a flash mob musical number, but she is open for additional ideas as long as it’s useful and it works.

Even right from the start, Rose hates the Republic of Gilead for the oppression it instills on innocent humans that she would manipulate anyone to get to her prey/targets by exploiting the mistrust among the commanders, economen, and those who were loyal to them. She also finds sadistic pleasure in psychologically breaking her victims before even openly hunting them, a trait that she mentioned sharing it with her cousin Abigail from Transylvania. She has an insatiable hunger for revenge by ravaging the Republic’s human settlements, in which she displays sociopathy and psychopathy in the manner in which she murders her prey until she met Eagle, a human outcast who ends up falling for Twilight, another royal vampire who turned out to be one of Rose’s younger sisters. He was able to help Rose discover a path to change their perspectives, in a non-threatening way and was able to tell her the secret to bringing down the overarching regime once and for all.

Like all vampires, Rose has the regular powers of a vampire, like vampirization through the venom in her fangs, supernatural condition, healing factor, shapeshifting, and wall crawling, but because she is a strigoi, her vamp powers are in the highest level and she has the ability to move around at day, which usually kills a lower level vampire or a nosferatu but she is weakened by it. She also shares the same weaknesses as well such as decapitation and stakes (both are effective), silver (causes allergies), garlic (cause a vampire's throat to swell, get an upset stomach, or spit out deadly flames from their mouths if consumed), and fire (fire is lethal to vampires just as it is to any other creature, although due to their healing factor, they can survive it better than most) but she is immune to certain vampire weaknesses such as aversion to religious symbols or words, which depends, based on how strong the faith of a human is. Just like the royal vampires and the vampire monarchs, she has vampiric magic powers, lordship over lower level vampires, limited transcendence, and her mind has great mental prowess and abilities, which she uses to psycho-analyze the targets by undermining their self-confidence, exploit their weaknesses, provoke guilt, and simply to just mock them. The vampire gift that she gained after she endured the Vapors (a next level event in the afterlife of vampires who turn 115 after they have the fangceañera and earn their capes but they gain their unique vampire powers after enduring it) is her sound manipulation and vocals powers, which she uses to bewitch potential victims or targets, usually humans through her voice and manipulate them under her command.

Poppy in the monster AU is a werewolf alongside Branch, but Poppy has reddish fur alongside her twin sister, Viva and her dad Peppy, while Branch has silver fur, one of the two colors (the other is gray) that his pack have. As an alpha, Poppy is known for being idealistic, determined, compassionate, cheerful, sweet, kind, energetic, enthusiastic, and committed to helping all those around her while being somewhat naive while Branch is the second-in-command, who is over-cautious, detached, efficient, reserved and rational but over time, he started to become more open and accepting to other monsters aside from his pack, albeit he is also wary about rogues and humans.

Poppy first met Rose when she was a three year old pup and Rose was a five year old vampire. Their first meeting made Rose laugh out of happiness that she grew her fangs and gained her first set powers. They become the closest cave friends that they ended up leading two teams, the Snack Pack, and the Boo Crew. Poppy is also curious about humans that she would borrow books about humans from the Nevermore Castle because of her fascination of them, which Rose doesn’t mind as long as it’s useful when they raid human settlements for their targets and potential victims. She is also the first to accept Eagle to their group.

Branch, on the other hand, first met Rose when he was a toddler and she was a three year old by the time his holder brothers, John Dory, Spruce, Clay, and Floyd used to babysit her, which is difficult because Rose tends to crawl on walls and ceilings. Even as Rose and Poppy became best friends, they would see him a lot until his grandma, Rosiepuff, who was the former alpha until his aunt took over, was shot by a monster hunter. Because of this trauma, Branch spent most of his time with his pack for years until he reunited with them and joined the Snack Pack. He shows distrust over Eagle when he accidentally came to the Nevermore Castle, due to being a human but as time passes on, Branch started to trust him when Eagle discovers that he is an outcast and teaches him and the monsters that not all humans are evil.

For the physiology, Branch and Poppy possess superhuman condition, a lycanthropic infection in their saliva that enables them to turn humans into werewolves via bites, and wolf physiology that all werewolves possess. These traits are also enhanced during the full moon but they also have the same aversion to silver as vampires and other werewolves do. When it comes to what parts of their kill to eat, which is usually cooked, Poppy (and her twin, Viva) love to eat the hearts of their prey while Branch loves eating the drumstick (usually legs or arms).

Btw, there are more to come so be prepared for the Snack Pack as monsters in my monster AU! Stay tuned ghouls and mansters!

[vickyvicarious]

Somehow Arthur feels very, very close to me. I seem to feel his presence warm about me. I suppose it is that sickness and weakness are selfish things and turn our inner eyes and sympathy on ourselves, whilst health and strength give Love rein, and in thought and feeling he can wander where he wills. I know where my thoughts are. If Arthur only knew!

I know there have been a bajillion thinkpieces written lectured and adapted about how blood giving or taking is sex and sexual appetite etc but man vampire lore is sleeping on blood being a vessel of one's love

So true!

Especially when we consider the difference between the vampires drinking vs. the humans transfusing. Like, I was musing about this exact thing the other day. With each transfusion, Van Helsing (et al) is performing a kind of medical vampirism. But there are a couple key differences between that and actual vampirism. And the love is the biggest one.

We see humans giving blood as an expression of their love. They are willingly sacrificing their own health to heal another. The first transfusion makes this extremely clear, with Arthur speaking of his devotion using the words:

"My life is hers, and I would give the last drop of blood in my body for her."

And that's before he even knows she needs it! Love and devotion and bleeding for another are already linked concepts in his mind, and this line makes the connection clear to readers too. As for the result - in this diary entry you quote, Lucy describes the effect as not only a physical boost, but a kind of spiritual/emotional one too. It's not just that she is physically doing better and feeling happier because of that. She is specifically thinking of Arthur after he has given her blood, and feels her love for him stronger than ever. There's a sense that his blood, full of his love for her, is in her veins now, and her love for him is strengthened by it. After Jack gives her blood, we get one of the best moments in their relationship, with the shared secret/smile at one another about the past failed proposal. I think this is such a wonderful gesture of friendship and platonic love. I wouldn't be surprised if Lucy is feeling closer than ever to him in that and similar moments too... and it doesn't have to be because of his blood in her veins, but couldn't that be a contributing factor? (We can also say maybe empath!Lucy helps her feel the effect of the emotion in the blood even more, but that's slightly beside the point.)

I've even wondered if perhaps in-universe, emotional connection makes a transfusion more likely to be successful. Remember, at the time the book was written, blood types had not yet been figured out, so the success or failure of transfusions was kind of a mystery (though only for another like three years after publishing). We can easily say "oh, Lucy is conveniently a universal recipient" and leave it at that. But thematically, it would be quite fitting if the closeness between two people makes them more likely to have their blood 'accepted'. It would also fit with the comments Van Helsing made that Arthur "can do more than any that live," or is "better than me, better than my friend John" when it's time for him to give Lucy blood. Sure, it makes logical sense for someone who isn't her doctor to do it, and he is young and healthy (and tall! more blood!), but there's also a sense that he has more 'right' to do so than the others, because he is her lover. If we run with that, the love linking them makes his blood more effective, or at least more likely to be accepted.

Now, let's contrast all of this good, love-filled blood-gifting with vampires, shall we? Just as Arthur spoke of his love in terms of giving blood, the vampires speak of taking blood in terms of love:

"He is young and strong; there are kisses for us all."

(Not to mention the whole "you never love"/"oh yes I can" exchange afterwards. That's an even more explicit example in a lot of ways, just a bit longer than this one line.) In a sense, vampires taking blood is an expression of their 'love'. But as I discussed in the post linked above, a vampire's version of love is predatory. It consumes. They don't accept blood that is willingly given. Instead they take blood, and forcibly compel people to 'offer' it to them by suppressing their minds/negative emotions in a hypnotic trance. This is where you could bring back the sex comparison, but only in the sense of an assault. They might make their victims come to them, but they aren't really consenting. There's a reason the word love is in quotation marks for them! And the absence of blood being willingly given means that rather than being a vessel for love like we see amongst the humans, instead any link created between the vampire and their 'donor' is very predatory. There is a connection created there, but it's one that is designed to make it easier to feed more, to corrupt their victim more. Maybe Dracula can feel Lucy in some way, just like she felt Arthur - but maybe it's more in the sense of him being able to know where she is or to influence her more. In fact, there is plenty of suggestion that some kind of psychic link is created between a vampire and their victim, one that can perhaps go both ways at times (such as Jonathan possibly getting a glimpse of Dracula's plans after being drunk from) but typically only serves to weaken and manipulate the victim (Lucy unable to remember or speak about what happens to her, down to the point of even hiding her bitemarks with her choker; if we go back to that Jonathan scene, his brain fever coming on so abruptly could be some sort of psychic attack/backlash).

There are also some interesting implications regarding spoilers, so I'm going to put those under a cut:

Firstly, Mina being forced to drink Dracula's blood clearly establishes a connection between them. It is explicitly a corrupting influence, and is described as being like a "poison" - very much the opposite of the strengthening connection Lucy experiences with willingly given human blood. And some of that is clearly just due to it being a vampire's blood, but maybe the fact that she's forced to ingest it against her will could be a factor too. Like, Lucy is unaware of getting transfusions, but they're all from people she loves and who love her, so her body doesn't reject them. I wonder whether, if someone really wanted to become a vampire and very willingly drank the vampire blood, then the process of turning into one might be easier or faster than the slow, disorienting decline Mina suffers in canon. Obviously how much human blood you have left in you and how close you are to dying makes a difference too, as seen with Lucy. And we don't officially know if Dracula made Lucy drink his blood too and that's always part of the vampire transformation, or if that was an extra magical measure against Mina. So it's getting way into speculation.

But the drinking blood = connection is definitely made clear with Mina. She is able to turn that against Dracula, so it at least can go both ways when the blood-giver is supernatural. I doubt it would go both ways with an ordinary human donor, but it still could support Lucy getting more connected with the people giving her blood. In fact, you could play around with that idea since she's also connected to Dracula as his victim.

.

Anyways, speaking of getting super far into speculation, let's dive a little more into the idea of a willing donor/victim for a vampire. For example, the reason a vampire doesn't get the loved-up connection is not necessarily entirely inherent to their nature, but to the behavior that nature leads to. Maybe it's the way they are preying on people and taking things that twists whatever connection is created into such a bad thing. And if so, what would happen if a human willingly donated their blood to a vampire as an expression of love?

Instead of taking, the vampire would be accepting a gift. Maybe then the love really would flow through. Maybe, even, this would mean that the person giving the blood didn't suffer as many negative effects, and the vampire drinking the blood would receive some of that more healing influence. You all know what I'm getting at. If Jonathan gave his blood to Mina in full knowledge of what was happening, would it connect her to him even more strongly? Would it, rather than hastening her descent into vampirism, conversely help her hold on to her humanity because she feels more connected to his very human love? Maybe he wouldn't suffer the same effects as usual victims - he wouldn't forget and maybe he wouldn't even feel as weakened as blood loss usually should make someone feel. Maybe he'd even get a bit of vampiric influence leaking back, but only the beneficial stuff.

It's not something I've ever considered before, but it could be a really fun idea to play with. You could even make a case for it in canon if you really tried, citing stuff like Jonathan's cold hands and flinging the coffin near the end of the book, and Mina's certainty about his location and safety. She feels the humanizing emotional connection and his presence; he isn't weakened and maybe even gets some vampiric strength/intimidating vampire aura when he needs it. Rather than a predatory connection, it is one which goes both ways and strengthens both, because it combines the supernatural elements of a vampire with the strengthening effects of willingly given love-filled blood.

That might only work in the short term, and the vampiric corruption would overwhelm and ruin things in the long run, of course. And you definitely don't have to go down that road at all in the first place. Or all the way - maybe you only like the idea of his blood helping her feel more connected to him/feel his love for her, rather than going down the whole rabbithole. But however much you use, it's a fun concept to play with, I think!

[zombocomme]

Between The Lines, Episode 5: I’ve got my ticket, and I’m a -goin’ home

Enjoy

SFW:PG/PG13: *mentions death, cancer, strained relationships, a father’s love, hardships implied/coming out trans, and some good ol’ fashioned crying

“But I'm a better man ,For having gone through it, Yes, I'm a better man, For having gone through” - Tear Down the House, by the Avett Brothers

🛤🏫🌾🚬🦇🕰✨️🫲🙂‍↕️🫱✨️🕰🦇🍻🌾🏫🛣

James Defroque and his son Jim sat together many miles away from the ministry, matching rocking chairs creaking softly on the wood planks of the manor’s veranda. Another warm sultry day in the south, the cicadas buzzing around them as Jim cracked open another cold beer, handing it to his father, both men content to watch the setting sun kiss the horizon goodbye, the light fading, going softly into the night. The day had been eventful, it had been one of James' good days, which were  often enough to pretend everything was fine and he was just tired the other days. They had gone that afternoon joy riding in the golf carts through the peach orchards, Jimmy wearing his sunglasses spinning the wheels on the turns, nearly tipping the damn thing, both of them whooping and hollering like young men in the country enjoying the life they had created together, having only each other for a long time…

And yet time marched on, seeming to slip through their fingers all too soon.

James looked his age, and older somehow, despite his still youthful face. James had not chosen eternity when he became a full blooded vampire. Not many had the stamina to live forever, and many chose not to live that long. James had resigned himself a long time ago to the finiteness of a mortal life, albeit what would have been a long one… had it not been for the cancer in his body, slowly taking more than his healing factor could replenish. And he was losing this battle.

Jim looked a little older though not by much, with a gentlemanly streak of grey at his temples and  dashing line of salt and pepper down his neatly trimmed beard.

 He, like his father, had chosen to give up his eternity years ago, the exchange meant to bring his “Little Lottie”, Charlotte, one of his twins, from the other side, from the ferryman’s plane beyond the grave to this one.  A choice he never regretted despite the knowledge that Copia and Millie were going to live forever, and he wouldn't, a real consequence he was reminded of daily as he spent his time treasuring his children and what time left he had with his father James.

James looked across the the little table beside him at his own son whom he had been finding every moment he could to bond with, and gave him a gentle smile, the long orange light surrounding the purple shadows of the oncoming night, “You look well son.” he said his voice a little more raspy than before, “The years have been kind to you”. Jim chuckled, “You’re not looking too bad yourself, considering,” he teased, lifting his beer.

James had become more pensive and sentimental as he loved on this borrowed time. He had a year left, maybe two. Without the healing factor of his vampirism, the cancer would have claimed him some years ago. But he could feel it in his bones, the way the sickness wormed its way into the warm dark places in his body, corrupting it cell by cell… he could count on one hand how many times he had regretted his decision to live the life of a mortal vampire.

Seeing his son now, looking much like he did at that age, stronger, younger, living a more fulfilled life in comparison, James ached with the realization that he didn’t have much longer to see where his son would go in life.

Where that life would lead. He wouldn’t see his grandchildren graduate and grow into the amazing people that they were inside. He wouldn’t see his greats come into the world either. No triple generation family photo would grace the walls of his beautiful home…

James had made the decision of mortality when he was a young man thinking it wise, banking on a long life that easily would have spanned a hundred and fifty years, but he never counted on the time he thought he had, being cut short. And now he was actively watching precious moments pass by… moments that he knew would end. It made them all the more precious…and also, all the more painful, that even on a good day like this one that he had enjoyed, it was sinking with the sun, a setting thing that he knew his eyes only had so long to watch happen again and again.

The insidious disease, its tendrils slowly spreading making his body more tired, and more achy, crying out with the need to rest, but rest be damned! He wouldn't sleep his life away, not what was left of it. Time once abundant now seemed cruelly limited. And he was determined to make the most of it.

His smile was bittersweet behind his glasses and mustache, the long sleeved button up and cozy sweater vest a shield against the sensations of chill that seemed to plague him these days, despite the warm June weather. He took a deep breath and sighed, savoring the scent of dusk, knowing it would be one of a numbered few left that he would experience, and in his ponderings, he reflected on what it meant. To live. To die. To go on the journey that follows the great sleep…

*Nihil was gone, as was Sister Imperator. And despite the ability of their ghosts to cling and humorously haunt the ministry, he knew he was the last of the old trio left really. And “the after” held no true promise that he too could return… or where he would even go… and it saddened him to know it, to know his son would someday make that journey also… Like looking in a mirror, Jim sat much like his father did on that porch, nursing a beer and rocking gently on his toes, a mirrored pose enjoying the summertime haze that the fading light left behind, thinking of better days, as night came in.*

James took a deep drag on his cigarette and spoke, the plume of smoke whisking away on the welcomed breeze, his voice low and rough, “You look a lot like me at your age,” he mused, studying his son’s face. “But you're stronger to be livin’ the life I could only ever dream of, a happy one hmm?” he chuckled, another plume of smoke rising into the warm night air. “Time is a curious thing isn’t it? It runs out so quickly, even when you think you have so much of it left.” He ashed the cigarette and put out the burning cherry in the clay ashtray he had kept around from when Jimmy had made it in art class once upon a time. 

“Mm.” was all Jim could muster, the ring in his throat growing tighter at his father’s words. He knew his old man was going through it, and he didn’t want to tell him to stop. Stop hurting him, stop reminding Jim that he was about to lose the man he had always wanted to make proud and failed many times. The man who he looked up to, even if they hadn’t been close in his youth. 

They had, only yesterday, it seemed, reconnected and seen life more fully for what it was, a gift, a thing to love that could transcend time and death. And yet, he felt his chest squeezing. He took another long gulp of his beer, finishing the dregs and reaching out to grab another. “It be that way don’t it” Jim said, a breath he knew he was holding refused to let go.

“True that,” James agreed, taking a sip of his own beer, smacking his lips. Everything tasted different now. He had his regrets. His failings. Things that had strained their relationship in the past. But like god knows the sparrow in the field, he knew his son. He had watched over him his whole life as best he could. He knew Jim was struggling to come to terms with the inevitability of it all, and he knew Jim had his own thoughts about his own mortality stewing in the background.

“Life doesn’t always play out the way we expect it to, does it?” James said with an air of finality. He glanced at his son, seeing the pain behind the forced smile. It hurt to see his son like this. Hurt him more than words could say…

He reached out and patted Jim on the shoulder, then gave him a firm squeeze as his eyes watered, his voice tight with emotion, cracked ever so slightly, “I’m proud of you, you know. You've raised a good family, and you’ve done well for yourself. And you found happiness. That’s all a father can hope for for his son.”

“Dammit Dad, if you make me cry again, I swear to god, I’m gonna eat that last brisket sandwich, ya hear?”

 James chuckled, a smile breaking through his usually stern exterior. A welcome sight after all these years and one Jim knew he would only see so often before he wouldn’t anymore. 

Jim sighed after a moment of their shared sniggering, James sighed with him, a triumphant air in his drinking the last of his beer, “Ya know, I’m gonna miss these nights”.

“Oh don’t you threaten me with that sammich, boy.” he said, his voice teasing, “Dyin’ or not I can still whip you!” Jim snorted on his beer and laughed, wiping the gathered tears that had been floating in his eye, his dad laughing heartily beside him.

They were even closer now, now that they shared the experience of parenthood, and found a measure of equality in their once strained relationship. But it was moments of levity like this that they realized they had always been close, belonging to the same silliness that so easily could connect between them.

“Yeah”, Jim said, “Me too.” 

“Settin’ us down a spell, enjoying the purdy view, passing the beer, shootin’ the shit, ramblin’ on about life and things.” James said, sounding like his own late father who had painted the porch white and who planted the pretty flowers that edged along the veranda.

Jim’s throat tightened once more as the lingering light all too soon gave up its glamor to pale and fade, making room for the velvet cloak of night. The symphony of frogs and crickets humming together in the night life filled the air with song. He had so much to say and so little time to say it. Where his mind flooded with things to ask and talk about with his dad, words faltered in his throat, the fleeting nature of time weighing on them both. 

Lantanas, bursting with color and light, hardy things that just seemed to grow and grow no matter how hands or weather abused them. This year they had come out more orange and pink, a color so sweet like a rainbow sorbet, so vivid  like the horizon where red and orange light had given way to the pink and purple hues as the set sun had passed the horizon line, though its glowing light lingered to welcome the night in, warmly.

James finished his own beer, the can making a soft tining noise as he tossed it into the little paper bag  in an empty planter where they had been keeping their empties in.

He let out a deep sigh, his gaze going out to the silhouettes of the sprawling Defroque peach orchard and the land beyond it. “There’s so much I still need to tell you, “ he said. “So much I want you to know.” 

“So much…” Jim echoed, his voice thickening with emotion as he tried to hold back the tears that were spilling over now, trying in vain to keep them at bay. 

James reached out and patted his son on the back, a gentle gesture of comfort he felt he had not done enough over the years, “It’s okay, son,” he said quietly. “Let it out. There’s no shame in tears.” 

“Ain’t no shame, daddy I just hate cryin’ so much.” Jim sniffed, grunting as he tried to harrumph the pain away. 

“I know. I know, "James said reassuringly, his hand still resting on Jim’s back. “It’s hard to show that kinda vulnerability. But son, crying is a natural thing. It doesn't make you weak. Not in the slightest.” He chuckled softly, “Hell, I’ve cried many-a-times in my day, even if you ain't seen it” he assured.

Jim leaned forward, feeling torn and raw. 

*He should be comforting his dad, but it seemed to be going the other way around.*

 The realization that there wasn’t much time left where he would have that luxury, of being comforted by his father’s hands, setting in. “No daddy I…I did.. I saw it a few times… damn near broke my heart…Matter of fact, it did… broke my heart as a boy even if I wasn't appreciative of how good I had it, how good you made it…”

*Knowing I done it. Knowing it was my fault you cried at night when you thought I was sleeping. Knowing I was the trouble...*

James looked at his son, his heart breaking a bit at the roughness in Jim’s voice. It killed him inside that they only had so many moments left like this one. But he wasn’t going to let this one slip by.

He reached up a hand, his grip firm yet gently, “Son, you have no idea how much you been a blessing to me. Even if you weren't always the most appreciative, you’ve grown into such an admirable man, and a wonderful father yourself despite the failings of me and mine… you broke the cycle of things that had a purpose but weren’t what you needed most, and now you’re being’ such a good daddy to Charlotte. To Ari/a. I couldn’t be more proud, If anything, that's my gift from you to me. Makin’ up for everything, I get to see that you made it in the end. Your babies have grown into fine young folks, and you're closer to them, more involved than I ever was to ya, and that's a testament to you appreciating your life enough to make it work. To make it better for them now. That’s what fathers do, mhm” he nodded.

Jim huffed a rueful laugh, “Oh bless your heart daddy…” Jim Rubbed his forehead, hating to tell his dad the truth about his life. “Lottie and I, well yeah, we’re like peas in a pod but Ari/a… we just don’t understand each other… Jesus Christ I wish I knew how to fix this…” Jim groaned defeatedly.

*The blowout he and his child, now “son”, both had earlier that summer had resulted in the kids being packed up and sent to their other dad’s place back in ministry valley for the rest of their summer… and now with the recent revelation how long James really had, Jim felt serious regret for letting his temper get the better of him, for sending them away, for not being the kind of person who could naturally understand and bond with his son the way he had with his other daughter… *

*It had felt easier when Ari/a was younger, when he just seemed a quirky, curious kid. But as he grew older and now with puberty starting, Ari/a felt more isolated and confused, prone to harsher moods and breakdowns that even Jim couldn’t handle. He felt like he was  just another father failing his “son”. His son, who should be here with him and Little Lottie to spend what may be the last summer with him and their grandfather.*

James, who could see the signs of this certain hurt, who had seen the same struggle in his day between him and his Jimmy boy, pleaded urgently with his son, “No Jimmy. No. You’re not failing him, son.” he said, trying to keep his voice gentle, “You’re struggling, and that's okay! No parent is perfect, and no matter what you do, kids are always gonna need what you couldn’t give 'em. It’s a tale, old as time, ‘ain’t nothin’ happen here that didn’t happen there’, you ain’t the first and won’t be the last, and that’s sayin’ somethin’." James continued.

"We all make mistakes, boy, but the important thing is that you’re trying your best to be there for him now, accepting him for who he is even if it’s hard, loving him enough to try and protect him from even yourself. You love that boy with all your heart too, and that’s more than a lot of kids get. You may be closer to Charlotte, hell, that girl is like her momma, sunshine and cookies with cream, who doesn’t adore that little blonde angel." James began to choke up.

"But you and Ari/a, you have a new chance to get to know him... As father and a ‘son’ now, and that's priceless. You have a new chance to find love with each other, so that you get to have moments like we have now, sooner rather than later, when it's too late. You got time, son, don’t waste it settin’ on what you can’t change…” Except, Ari/a was so much like Jim. the same need, the same hurt, the same disappointment, and the same struggle bounced around that boy's head, just like it had for Jim when he was Ari/a's age...

Jim sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, sniffing. He had been pushing the reality of the situation out of the way for a sense of fleeting sanity. The news about his father’s cancer had been shocking, to say the least. And his son trying to find himself, his sister on his side, it had felt like no one was on Jim's side.  He felt a similar feeling of isolation and loneliness that had more in common with his son than he thought. And this time, James was right about that. He and Ari/a had something important in common. And now he felt guilty for sending the kids away when he should have let them stay, and tried to find another way to make life work with his dad’s growing needs in his frailty from his illness. 

But he had been at his wits end a long time. He and Ari/a had said things to each other they shouldn’t have, and while he didn’t want to admit it out loud, he had been in the wrong. All he wanted right now was to pull his son into his arms and kiss those dark long curls on his head, and hold him close the way he wanted to hold his own dad right now. To say sorry. To comfort him. To make amends before life got too short or too complicated to do it in time… The feeling of a father slipping away in their lives was something he and his son had in common now. But more than anything, he wanted to see his son, happy; Jim wanted to Ari/a to know he was safe. He was loved. more than anything in the whole wide world...

*It was like trying to live with a hole in his shoe…something he walked with that made him feel raw and worn out. But despite how hard it would be to deal with it all, he wished now more than ever he had his own family gathered round him so he could hold on to them tight and never let go. James watched the emotions play out on his son’s face. Even with this pain of loss and grief looming, Jim was growing… his Jimmy boy was appreciating his life because  of him. Jim was realizing how fleeting time it could be because, well, James was dying…and in a way, that comforted the older man, that at least his own ending was a reason for his son to find a new beginning, that it would bring the family closer, that his final lessons to Jim were going to be the ones about life that really mattered, “To live like you’re dyin’;” as an old song once put it…*

“I just feel like I blew it and now… now I’m praying the kids *want to come down for Christmas.” Jim winced as he felt the possibility of his son choosing to stay away punching him in the gut, knowing this may be the last one the whole family could get, and this time next year, his own daddy would be gone, or at the very least, on his way out… Christmas might be the last time James would have enough “good days” to enjoy with his family.

“You didn’t blow anything away, Jimmy boy,” James said sternly, “Life’s full of mistakes, hmm? ‘Wish-a-could-a done it different’, ain't no shortage of that when you're looking back… it’s what we do to mend them afterwards that matters.” He paused, his voice cracking slightly, “And your beautiful family is lead by your example more than you realize. They are loving, they are kind, they are forgiving, something I didn’t teach as much of and that *I wish-a could-a given more of to you… even if tensions are high, I got no doubt they'll come down, and we’ll have a gorgeous Christmas. Y'all need each other. I need ‘em too… and whos gonna tell a dyin’ man no.” he said, chuckling hopefully, trying to rouse Jim from the heartache he was carrying.

Jim reached up, holding his dad’s hand warm on his shoulder, feeling every vein and wrinkle, trying to memorize it, his emotions spilling over at the beautiful and painful truth of his father’s words, that felt like a blessing over his heart. His eyes squeezed and he felt his breath huff and hitch. James had seen this look many times… and he moved to hug his son…

*Because no matter how old he was, the young man across from him… that would always be his little Jimmy boy…a boy who needed his Daddy now more than ever. Even if he didn’t want to need him, James knew what Jim needed… And who could tell this dying man no…*

James wrapped his arms around his son, pulling him into a tight embrace. He held him close, as if trying to hold back the hands of time with all his might. 

This was his son, a little boy who’d grown into a young man, a brother to the other people in Milagro’s life, a husband who cherished Copia with all his heart the way James should have cherished his own late wife. Jim, who had become a wonderful father, playful, wise, and while strict, emanated love for his children in every way, in every moment he could. Something James hadn’t taught him, but that he was proud Jim had figured out before it was too late to *see him do it.

The little boy, who had become quite a man, yet no matter the years, the bond between father and son would always remain, because they both had watered and cared for that seed. And Like the lantanas, no matter what life had thrown at them, or what mistakes they had made, that love was stubborn and hard to kill, and he was grateful for that, as he kissed his son’s head. 

“It’s okay Jimmy my boy,” his voice a whisper choked with motion, “ It’s okay my boy. My sweet boy… Daddy’s here, I’m here, I ain't gone nowhere yet!” he cried, feeling Jim cling to him even tighter, soft sobs escaping to muffle in James' fleece vest, staining it with tears that had been needing to come out for a long, long time. 

James held his son tightly, rubbing small circles on his back, “Shhh, it’s okay, “ He murmured his own tears falling on the soft dark hair at his lips, the way it had felt when he held Jim  so small once… his mind wandered to that time, his baby boy so small and in need of his undying love. But the salt of those tears reminded him that he was here and now, in this moment, with his son, the way he had been all his life, even if he hadn’t been perfect at it, he had always been ready to be by Jim’s side through it all.

 “You’ll never walk alone, Jimmy. Maybe it feels like it does, but you’re not. Life hasn’t left you alone, ya hear me? You got a whole family that loves you… And I’ll always be here, my boy, if only in spirit when I leave this tired body. Love don’t die, Jim. And that will never change, ya hear me, won’t never change.” James said, cupping Jim's' saddened face to look at him. Both men crying, broke each other's hearts, and yet there was comfort in their shared grief.

James pulled Jim in again, hushing him quietly, rocking him gently in the tranquil night, letting Jim lean on him…

“I’m here Jimmy boy. I’m still here. And I ain’t going anywhere, not in the ways that count.”

They sat together as the night sounds seemed to hold space for them, the quiet settling in, like a protective blanket as James looked up at the winking stars. James was there to offer his son the gift of a steady presence in the face of what was probably his greatest pain, in the face of the unknown dark that would take him from his boy, and eventually, take Jim from Ari/a too. “I’m here for you Jim… no matter what happens or how one story ends to beget another. No matter the squalls and storms. No matter what comes our way… I’m here. And I love you.”

“I love you too daddy,” Jim's breath shuddered. He wished his dad’s arms would never leave from being around him.

“I love you more than you know,” James murmured as he continued rocking Jim softly in his arms, “You’ve always been my boy. My little boy. My everything. I’ve never stopped loving you, son. Not for a second. And I never will. Not even if I'm not here physically. My love for you is forever.” James pulled back slightly, holding Jim out to look him over, and take in every detail in that face that mirrored him in all the ways that mattered and more, “You understand that, right? I’m here for you. Even when I’m gone, My love, my spirit, will always be with you, winking at you like them stars.”

Jim nodded, feeling like his heart was both healing and breaking at the same time.

James put a hand to Jim’s cheek, his touch soft and gentle in the way he wished he had been more often in his time, “You're going to be okay Jimmy” he smiled softly, a thumb brushing a rivulets of tears away, “Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But one day, you’ll look back and realize you were stronger than you thought, and you’ll live long enough to see the fruit of that labor. I have confidence in you, son. More than you could ever imagine.”

Jim’s eyes gazed up at his dad, framed against a crown of starlight. It felt like a familiar moment back in time when he had been a boy. In tears like this, his daddy had cupped his son's face and smoothed out his hair, wiping away his tears the way he was doing now.

Daddy had been a super-hero then. A person who could make everything better when he was little. Even when he and his dad fought, even when he ran away from home, he always came back, his dad welcoming him home like a prodigal son every time. Some called it enabling. James called it ‘love unconditional’. 

Jim was suddenly also seeing himself from Ari/a’s eyes, his dad a glimpse into what he would look like later in life. Ari/a had once looked up at him this way. And the little boy in Jim watched as before his eyes his dad had gotten older, frailer, but despite the grey in his hair, the wrinkles in his face, the smile lines of a life well loved and lived, the frowny ones of grief where love was left persevering, there was a timelessness that looked at him from those old eyes, that comforted him with their familiarity, And for a moment, it felt like maybe… just…maybe… everything *would be okay.

James looked down at his son, his eyes filled with the same hope of timeless love. Age may have brought its tell-tale signs with it, but his affection was no shallower for it. Holding his son like this, it was as if no time had passed at all.

“Everything will be okay Jimmy…I promise you that.”

Later, as they closed up the house for the night, Jim’s phone rang, and he answered it. Ari/a was in trouble and needed him. But James needed him to. But James was immediately ready to go with Jim back to the valley, to do all he could to save his son, and his son’s son…

When Jim hung up the phone, he looked at his dad and the house the Defroque family had held stewardship over for generations. A monument full of memories and strength. He saw his father as part of it, a man who was as much a part of the place as the land it stood on.

“Daddy, we may not be back here for… a long time.”

*If you come with me, you may never see this palace again.*

James' eyes were steady and unwavering as he looked back at his son, a resolute fire flickering in their depths, “I know, and it breaks my heart. And I’m a-commin’, by and by, I’m a-commin’ with you, whether you like it or not” he smiled.

His expression faltered a bit as his gaze swept over the house, over the walls and rooms that held lifetimes of memory that had become such a  comfort to him in his last days. This house had seen their family through its ups and downs, providing shelter and strength during the hardest of times. To leave it behind, to potentially never return… It was a painful bittersweet realization. His gaze fell to Jim’s who wore a pained expression knowing what his father was giving up to come support him in fighting for his own family. But James wouldn’t have it, no sorrow for earthly things lost.

 “In the end Jimbo, you come in this world and leave it the same…naked as ya came, none of this, none of this goes with you” James said, gesturing around them, “ Defroque house and its legacy was only ever meant to leave you, the next generation with every opportunity I could give. You're doing the same for you and your children now. This house was never what the Defroque name stood for. It stood for unity in the darkest of times. It stood for getting our hands in the work for love and family. The house that Defroque built ain't in all this stuff and things, boy. It’s in the work for the love of our family that built it. Home ain't a house son. It’s where your love belongs. It’s where you set your roots, it’s where your heart builds a “you” shape in the lives of those you love. We’re goin’. Together. And that’s that. You've been building that legacy since you stepped up to be the man I taught you to be and more, something far beyond me, and I’ll be with you to see it through. Even unto to the end.”

Jim’s heart ached as he listened to his father’s words but he knew the truth in them. The Defroque house was more than a structure, more than the symbol of their family’s heritage and legacy. “House Defroque” was anywhere one lived, the name a symbol of his father’s father’s blood on trails broken and lives known. Something He would share with his children, somehow…somehow…

Jim smiled gratefully, appreciating the sacrifice his dad was making for him. One he gladly accepted despite the circumstances. One more joy ride out to the valley. One more adventure with his old man, to get his family back. In that moment, he saw life in his father’s eyes, his eyes twinkling like stars, standing tall and proud as the house, no, as the *home he had built in his love. “I couldn’t do this without you, “he said quietly. “You’ve always been my rock, dad. Our rock” he said, his eyes glancing at the family pictures where his own family photos were among them. 

*One in particular, of Jim during the first few months of his babies’ lives, looking at the camera, clearly sleep deprived but smiling, the happiest man on earth in that moment, in nothing but a white t-shirt and boxer shorts; Jim held a swaddled Charlotte in one arm and Ari/a in his lap, his free hand holding a bottle to his baby’s lips. Charlotte was fast asleep in his embrace, and Ari, his eyes ever wide and observing, was blinking up at his dad, the camera flash highlighting the way, that even back then, Jim’s babies, the way Ari/a loved, both their daddy. Felt loved and safe in his arms, as they should. It was a picture centered proudly next to a similar one of James cradling a baby Jimmy in his lap. The moment captured the patriarch as he cooed over his only son. 

The warmth of that moment leading to his own as a father, made Jim realize that his dad was right. James would always be there with him, in him, in all the ways that mattered.. And now, he was going to go make things right, he was going to be there for his own son in a way that a good father should. James' chest swelled with pride as he took his place behind his son, Jim clutching the phone with a fire burning in his chest, and a determined look on his face, a smile playing on his features as he felt the strength of every generation in his blood. “All right Daddy. Let’s go, let’s go get the kids back.”

At that moment, house Defroque had never stood taller…

[grailfinders]

Grailfinders Viewers' Choice #26: Nrvnqsr Chaos

today on Grailfinders, I’d say we’re due for a big ol’ storm of chaos! Nrvnqsr Chaos specifically, though you’ll have to forgive me if I simply call him Nero throughout the build- I’m not going to remember that alphabet soup of a name.

anyway, our dear friend Keysmash Chaos is an Aberrant Mind Sorcerer to pick up some spicier summons and some flexibility, as well as a Shepherd Druid for summoned beasts out the wazoo that can really pack a punch. check out his build breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!

Ancestry & Background

Nero was a human but now he’s chaos, which is a bunch of animals grafted together in a semi-humanoid shape. you could go Simic Hybrid here if you love the smell of fish, but since there’s no way in hell I’ll find another chance for this I’m going to make him a Plasmoid instead. that gives him +2 Charisma and +1 Constitution, as well as an Amorphous body type that lets you squeeze through small spaces and get advantage on making and escaping grapples. you also get Darkvision up to 60’, and can Hold Breath for up to an hour with no negative consequences. you’ve got 666 pairs of lungs, I’m sure it’ll all work out. your unique body plan also gives you a Natural Resistance against acid and poison damage as well as the poison condition, and you can Shape Self as an action to add or remove limbs and a head from your general shape, or use a bonus action to send a bit of you up to 10’ away in a little cord that can manipulate lightweight objects. chaos doesn’t keep a solid form, go figure.

you used to be part of a reclusive bunch of mages that threw themselves out of normal reality, so calling you a Hermit is pretty spot on. you get proficiency in Medicine and Arcana instead of religion bc I said so, and the Wandering Sea is definitely more about science/magic than gods. I’d argue your backround’s flavor feat Discovery is also pretty in-character for once since it gives you a reason you became goo to begin with, but it’s not totally necessary.

Ability Scores

nero’s highest score is his Charisma. his magic comes from inside, and I mean that literally. next is Wisdom, animals tend to have a high wisdom score, and you are animals. also, mind-controlling you is probably pretty hard given how many you have. third is Constitution, because you don’t die til your beasts do, and your beasts don’t die til you do. a real catch-666 here. this does make your Dexterity a little lower than I’m 100% comfortable giving a caster, but with a healing factor like yours getting out of the way isn’t an issue. your Intelligence is only average- you were smart, and probably still are, but your brain’s been getting eaten by wolves the last millennium, I wouldn’t bet too much on it. that means we’re dumping Strength, which feels weird for a super strong vampire, but we can patch that up with magic better than most other abilities.

Class Levels

1. Sorcerer 1: starting off as a sorcerer gets you proficiency with Constitution and Charisma saves. you can survive the eyes of death perception, which is definitely a high save DC for one of those. you also get proficiency in Intimidation and Insight checks. you have 600+ beasts inside you- that’s a lot of growling and a lot of eyes.

at level one your Aberrant Mind lets you use Telepathic Speech, linking up with a nearby creature for a couple minutes so you can speak with just your minds. you also gain Psionic Spells, which are kind of like a regular extended spell list, but you can swap these out with other divination or enchantment spells as you go. if we do that, we’ll be sure to bring it up.

speaking of, at level one you get Arms of Hadar and Mind Sliver which we’re keeping, but we’re swapping out Dissonant Whispers for Identify. you’ve been around a while, you know what magic is. you also get regular spells this level- Mage Hand lets you send out a lil bird to carry something light for you, Sword Burst flings claws everywhere for some cheap damage, Chill Touch deals damage and blocks healing, and Blade Ward lets you goop up to block the worst of incoming physical damage. for your leveled spells, Mage Armor is practically a necessity since it gives you an extra +3 to AC, and Catapult is nice too, letting you fling a nearby object at a creature, possibly damaging both in the process.

2. Sorcerer 2: second level sorcerers are a Font of Magic, which right now just means you can cast an extra 1st level spell each day by doing some rigamarole. a 1st level spell like Feather Fall perhaps. you’ve got a lot of birds in you, I’m sure they can help break your fall.

3. Sorcerer 3: at third level your font of magic actually becomes interesting, because you can use your sorcery points from that to make Metamagic, altering the effects of your spells to your liking. most of your summons are literally you pulling something out of you, so they’re pretty Subtle. subtle spells don’t require somatic or verbal components, so they’re a lot harder to counterspell too!  speaking of, those summons are basically animals when they’re not in you, so they last a while- an Extended spell can help with that, doubling the duration of whatever you cast.

you also get second level spells now! we’re swapping out Calm Emotions for Hold Person for your weak shitty eyes of enchantment, and Detect Thoughts. mortal mages can do that, and you’ve been around ten times as long, so I can’t imagine it’s that difficult for you. you also get Enhance Ability, giving you advantage on one kind of skill check for up to an hour. and all the options are flavored after animals, score!

4. Sorcerer 4: fourth level sorcerers get their first Ability Score Improvement, so bump up that Charisma for stronger spell, like the cantrip Infestation to sic bugs on people and Shatter to break shit! I think adding a swarm of poisonous insects to your chaos would probably bump you up to at least 6,666 beasts but I’ll allow them to all count as one.

5. Sorcerer 5: at fifth level, everything just kind of goes right for you thanks to your Magical Guidance- spend a sorcery point, re-roll a failed check. you’re a villain, so you have plot armor right up to the end of the story.

you also get third level spells- Haste lets you move fast enough to keep up with arcueid (probably), and your freebies Hunger of Hadar and Sending let you blast some goo to slow down enemies and chaos them to death, or use a cell phone. you were born in the 900s, an iphone might as well be magic to you.

6. Sorcerer 6: a sixth level weirdo gets Psionic Sorcery, so any of your psionic spells can now be cast purely through sorcery points, and doing so makes it subtle as well as allowing you to ignore material components unless they are spent by the spell. that’s important for later.

you also get Psychic Defenses, giving you resistance to psychic damage as well as charms and spooks. you have a lot of brains in there, it’s going to be hard to freak all of them out at once. which is good bc the rabbit one is always freaked out.

also you can finally eat people now! with Vampiric Touch, you can touch people and drain their life force, regaining half the damage you deal as HP!

7. Sorcerer 7: seventh level of a spellcaster means fourth level spells! as for nero, it’s Polymorphin’ time! now you can turn into a beast with a CR equal to your level or less for up to an hour, changing all your stats and basically giving you a big beast-shaped shield to your HP. you also get your new psionic spells, Evard’s Black Tentacles and Summon Aberration! the former’s basically hunger of hadar but again, and the latter’s our very first summoning spell for phantasmals! yeah it took a while to get going, but if putting animals in people was easy everyone’d be a furry already. don’t worry, we’ll speed things up next level.

8. Druid 1: bouncing over to druid gives you more Spells that you cast and prepare using your Wisdom. multiclassing spellcasters gets a lil complicated, so check the PHB to see what spell slots you have at any given time.

the important thing is you get Primal Savagery and Shillelagh, giving you more melee options to avoid having to punch people with your puny caster hands. you can further enhance your physicality with spells like Jump and Longstrider, or drag people into your chaos with Entangle. you even learn druidic! it’s a language!

9. Druid 2: at second level you get to enter the Circle of the Shepherd, which teaches you the Speech of the Woods. not only does it teach you Sylvan, famous for being a language, but you can talk to beasts now as well!

more excitingly, you can summon a Spirit Totem as a bonus action, bringing a phantasmal to the battlefield for up to a minute per short rest. you can pick between three options- the bear giving creatures you choose extra HP and advantage on strength checks and saves, the Hawk letting you grant advantage on an attack as a reaction and giving advantage freely to perception checks, and the Unicorn gives advantage on checks to find creatures and extra HP from healing spells.

to get even beastlier, you can now Wild Shape twice per short rest to turn into a beast without using a spell slot. the CR for this one is a lot more limited, but free HP is free HP. alternatively, you can do the more in-character thing and summon a Wild Companion, letting you spend a wild shape use to cast Find Familiar without materials. it’s not that strong, but a flying spy camera can be pretty useful.

10. Druid 3: if you need a long-distance helper, you can always use Animal Messenger or Beast Sense instead. the former will fursonally deliver a message to someone you describe, while the latter lets you see and hear through a beast for up to an hour, but without any control over what it does.

you can also Summon Beast which is nice. we’re still a ways away from mass chaos, but it’s a cheaper summon option.  hell, it’s honestly the better option for a fourth level spell slot anyway, unless you’re hyped about having a regenerating chaos.

11. Druid 4: at fourth level you can turn into CR 1 creatures that can swim thanks to your Wild Shape Improvement, and you can also use this ASI to bump up your Charisma and Wisdom to max out the former and set up the latter for later.

you also get another cantrip, so I say weaponize that pseudopod of yours with a Thorn Whip. it whips! it thorns!

12. Druid 5: the real reason we’re here is third level spells, and the only one I care about here is Conjure Animals. by using a third level spell slot, you can summon a single beast of CR 2, or twice as many by halving the CR, all the way to 8 CR ¼ beasts. it says the DM has the stats for whatever you summon, but tbh if you’re going to summon eight extra fighters every combat you should probably just bookmark your own PHB to help out.

13. Druid 6: one last pit stop before we head back to sorcerer- at level six shepherd druids become Mighty Summoners, adding an extra 2 HP per hit die to your summoned beasts/fey, and giving them magical attacks to boot.

14. Sorcerer 8: another ASI, this time you’re Resilient in Wisdom saves, giving you advantage and also rounding up your wisdom score for a cool plus 1 to all your spells and such.

also you can summon a Spirit of Death now, which lets you track whatever it’s zero’d in on anywhere in the material plane.

15. Sorcerer 9: with fifth level spells, it’s time for things to get real spicy. your freebies this level are Scrying to send out a spy bird with none of the fuss (esp. since you can use psionic casting to get around the 1000 gold casting cost) and Telekinesis to lift stuff like the big strong man you’re supposed to be. you can also Summon Draconic Spirits now, giving you access to the most powerful phantasmals available. not only can it deal adequate damage with breath attacks, but it also protects you from elemental damage to boot!

16. Sorcerer 10: now that you’ve spent some time vamping it up, your magic can now be Empowered, forcing disadvantage on one person trying to save themselves from it. you also get the Message cantrip bc I’m running out of good cantrips to give you, and the Enervation spell for a more chaos-flavored way of consuming your prey. you slap a target with a tentacle, and if they fail their first save it latches on, letting you drain their health each turn for up to a minute.

17. Sorcerer 11: I’ll be honest I’m kind of on the fence as to whether Tasha’s Otherworldly Guise should be called your 999th beast or not. on one hand it makes you look more demonic and gives you all kinds of cool abilities, but tbh I think turning into a T rex makes you a lot tougher for less magic cost. either way, you definitely have it now.

18. Sorcerer 12: use your last ASI to bump up your Dexterity to not die as much. yeah you’ve got plenty of spare lives, but it’s a pain to use them, y’know?

19. Sorcerer 13: our final spell of the day is the Finger of Death, which is a big single-target attack that can even turn a person into part of your chaos if it kills a humanoid target. really your whole body is Of Death, but a finger works too I guess.

20. Sorcerer 14: our capstone ability makes you a Revelation in Flesh, letting you transform yourself as a bonus action for ten minutes. for each sorcery point spent to transform, you get one of the four available bonuses. the first lets you see invisible creatures, the second gives you a flying speed, and the third lets you swim and breathe underwater. the last and both most- and least-important turns you into chaos good, letting you and anything you’re wearing move through a 1-inch space, or spend 5’ to break any grapple. it’s technically something you could’ve done already, but now you can do it without getting naked.

Pros & Cons:

Pros:

you have pretty good health for a caster, but it gets even better when you include all the extra health you can get from your uses of Polymorph, Wild Shape, and of course your vampiric spells. unless they can rush you down, you can cling to life in a fight for a good long while.

your spells are also very flexible, as are you. yes, you can summon 32 wolves or transform into a T Rex to cause havoc, but you can also summon or become smaller creatures for the sake of stealth or reconnaissance. and of course while using these spells on just yourself is in-character, a lot of them can be used on teammates as well to help them out.

you’re hard to deal with, magically speaking. you have solid saves in two of the big three saves, and you resist some common status effects really freaking well, so other mages can have a hard time taking out your HP faster than you can regrow it.

Cons:

your AC isn’t great, so melee fighters can still carve you up pretty easily. and if one of those happen to get creative with their mystic eyes of death perception you’ll definitely still be in trouble.

also, almost all of your summons are super weak compared to other spells of the same level. Conjure Animals is great for area denial or dealing with large groups of weak enemies, but using a ninth level spell for 32 wolves that’ll survive all of one turn before being fireballed to death just feels bad. the extra health from Mighty Summons is nice, but you’re getting at most 14 extra HP from that if you’re making CR 2 beasts, and that won’t last long at higher levels.

you yourself isn’t that strong either- while you don’t have to worry much about getting grappled, but you’re still easy to push around or fall into a magical strength-save spell.

[ghostselkie]

White Raven Dracula AU vampire lore

Alright, so first off, all the misfits are vampires. These are their ages (excluding the time they spent as a human):

Lenore ≈300 years old

Duke ≈250 years old

Pluto ≈230 years old

Eulalie ≈170 years old

Berenice ≈140 years old

Morella ≈60 years old

Now my vampires are going to be really close to the vampires in Bram Stoker's Dracula but it's not going to be exact. Also, all vampires have the same base powers, but as they get older, certain powers start to develop, with them being fully unlocked at the ages mentioned.

Powers and abilities:

Super human strength (average is roughly equivalent to 20 men)

Supper human speed and agility (average is roughly equal to 20 men)

Normal attacks will pass through their body as if it was air

Flight, to an extent. They mostly use it to hover in place and can move about as fast as they can walk normally.

They can crawl up walls and along ceilings in much the same way a lizard can.

Supernaturally alluring charisma (though not all vampires have this to the same extent). They can very easily persuade people to do things on their behalf, even against some ones better judgment.

Teleportation. As long as they've been some where and know how to get there.

Can slip through spaces too narrow for any human to be able to slip through. As long as the gap is the width of a hair, they can slip through it.

They can ride moon beams. Basically, moon rays will speed up how fast they can fly, but they can only do this in straight lines.

Ability to command creatures of the night such as wolves, rats, bats, owls, foxes and moths. This power is typically fully unlocked when vampires who are roughly 50 years old.

Illusory abilities. Typically, they fully unlock at around 100 years old, though the extent to which each vampire can use them varies wildly.

Shapeshifting, typically fully unlocked when vampires reach 200 years old. Younger vampires can shapeshift in to one thing before the age of 200, and this typically becomes their signature form. They can change their size and proportions to an unknown extent (the older the vampire the grater the extent). All vampires can shift in to all manner of forms, but most vampires have a tendency towards certain forms, with others feeling slightly uncomfortable. Regardless of what animals they have a tendency wards all vampires are comfortable as bats, wolves, large dogs, or fog/mist. Note: the attacks passing through them as if they where mist and the slipping through narrow entrances are thought to be instinctive versions of this power.

Weather manipulation, as well as directing elements such as storms, fog, wind, rain, and even lightning. The range at which they can do this varies among vampires. Also it's typically only a power seen used by vampires who are 300 years old.

They can slowly heal injuries as long as they are well-fed. It's quite a bit faster than the rate humans heal at, but not nearly as fast as most pop culture healing factors.

Weaknesses and limitations on powers:

Holly water burns them like acid

Any holy weapons will harm them like normal weapons would a human

Really any object with any religious significance can harm them

A stake through the hart will paralyze them

Beheading will kill them

They are repulsed by garlic (and garlic flowers), and repelled by any religious imagery

A wild roes stalk laid on their coffin will prevent them from rising at night.

All vampires lose most of their powers during the day. They are still quite strong and agile, though not to nearly the same extent. They can also still transform, though only at noon, dawn or dusk (at night they can shift when ever).

They have to sleep in their home land for their powers to recharge at their full rate. They can travel, but their powers will recharge at a slower rate and they are generally hungrier. They will eventually acclimate though. The rate at which their powers recharge will return to normal with in a few weeks.

They can't cross running water unless it's at low or high tide. If it's not during those times then they have to be caried across. And to bord a boat they have to do so during high or low tide, or be caried on board.

They can't enter a place unless invited. Once invited though, they can enter and leave at will.

Death sleep: Vampires go in to a death like sleep most days. It's nigh impossible for them to wake up until the sun sets. They can also go into this willingly and wake any time, even decades or centuries later.

They can't eat human food, if force fed they will immediately spit it out. If food is swallowed they will immediately vomit it up. Also it tastes absolutely foul to them. They can drink stuff, it just dosn't taste as good and they have to throw it up later unless its been mixed with blood.

Inhuman Traits:

They can see in the dark and in complete darkness, and their vision is better than that of a professional baseball player. 20/5 too 20/1. They do have some photosensitivity, so they cant se as well in the day time.

really good hearing

also a decently good sense of smell

They don't cast shadows

They don't have a reflection

Long, verry razor canines

Their teeth are unnaturally white. They are also perfectly straight, like a decade of orthodontia straight.

Some have pointed ears (length varies)

Their eyes glow.

Some can have slit pupils, or pupils of other weird shapes, but those are less common.

Some have claws (don't worry shape shifting can get rid of them temporarily, they can also be clipped, but they'll grow back like normal nails)

Some have harry palms

They can spend years and years alone with out it effecting them mentally, though they will often form groups called coteries, usually for mutual protection, or just companionship, as immortality can be boring if you don't have people to share it with. These groups typically do not exceed ten members.

They are typically more sedentary than humans on account of not being able to travel easily; though it's not unheard of for a bored vampire to be struck by some wander lust, during which they can literally travel all over the globe if they have the means.

Vampirism:

Vampires need blood to survive. Human blood is best for them. Animal blood works in a pinch, so does bottled blood, but it doesn't taste nearly as good, and you need a lot to sate your hunger. Vampires can also drink the blood of other vampires, but this is more of an intimate action as it is a huge show of trust.

The sight of human blood will trigger their blood lust. Upon seeing it, they will feel an uncontrollable urge to feed of that person. Some vampires are able to snap themselves out of it once they've drank enough, some are not. Some vampires are able to direct their blood lust, but regardless, some one is getting severally injured by the end of it.

A complete lack of blood in their system will also trigger blood lust. This type of blood lust is harder to snap out of though; usually one human will be fully exsanguinated before they snap out of it.

For some one to be turned into a vampire they need to be bit by a vampire tree separate times at least 24 hours apart, then drink some of the vampires blood, then die. If they don't die, then they will start gradually showing the traits of vampirism, eventually dying of starvation due to not being able to eat food.

being bit by a vampire feels good (not like vtm good though)

also a human who was bit by a vampire and didn't know it was going to happen is unlikely to remember the event, at least not fully. They might remember the vibe of something happening but not actually what happened. Or they'll remember it like it was a dream with the details being all fuzzy. Or they'll remember the event but their brain will re write it to make it make sense, like they'll think a bug bit them, or something.

I will make a separate post about character lore cause this got long.

[scarlet--wiccan]

Visual languages aside, do you know how to differentiate in the casting spell part? Like which spells are from witchcraft and which is from chaos magic?

Well, Wanda doesn't really cast spells with chaos magic, at least not in the same way she does witchcraft. Chaos magic and her mutant/mutate hex power are innate abilities, but witchcraft, spellcasting, and so forth are skills that she's learned through study and practice, and that's what you're seeing when she's using invocations, rituals, symbols and sigils, etc. So that's the main difference. I have a longer post, here, about how witchcraft is distinguished from other forms of magic in the Marvel world

Admittedly, there is a lot of overlap, especially after the late 90s when her powers, for better or for worse, became a lot more streamlined. More on that here and here. Nowadays, we consider chaos magic to be her primary power, and there is an aspect of it in everything she does. But usually, the text makes it pretty clear when she, or Billy, are bringing it to the fore, as it's often employed as the driving factor in important plot moments.

Anyways this is how I would break Wanda's powers down into reliable, easy to understand abilities. I tried to stick as close to canon as possible, but this is more like a creative interpretation meant to give a more distinctive, characteristic view of her abilities that's really grounded in her established lore.

Hex power-- Innate power. Controlling physical matter and energy, ranging from simple telekinesis to complex manipulation of the laws of physics; flight & levitation, gravity manipulation; generated energy attacks, explosions; subverting, distorting, amplifying or redirecting other people's science/physics based powers. Hexes are primarily cast through focus and visualization. Efficacy correlates to Wanda's comprehension of the phyiscal laws or structures she's manipulating and resultant ability to visualize.

Witchcraft-- Learned skill and hereditary talent. Communication with nature and spirits; elemental manipulation; mystical and extrasensory perception; protection and healing abilities; illusions; astral projection; conjuring and manifestation (such as the weapons and animals we've seen in Scarlet Witch). Spells are typically cast using symbols, verbal invocations, or ritual working and should be based primarily on real-world culture and language, as 'witchcraft' is used as shorthand for folk magic. Efficacy correlates to Wanda's demonstrated knowledge of folkways, mythology, language, etc.

Chaos magic-- Innate power, initially overwhelming and difficult to control; trial, experience, and recent victories over Cthon have led to greater mastery. Abilities include temporal and spatial distortions, portals, teleportation; matter transmutation; subverting, distorting, amplifying and redirecting other people's magic; the capacity to transcend the boundaries of life and death; calling forth destructive primordial powers.

As a Nexus Being-- ability to channel, absorb, and synthesize foreign sources of magical power; multiverse traversal and inter-dimensional scrying; applied reality alteration.

As the Living Darkhold--ability to call upon the Darkhold's corrosive power and unleash demonic manifestations without harmful side-effects; ability to bind or transform vampires, werewolves, and other related "monsters" and eldritch-spawn; binding and balancing entropic chaos.

[gothamnewsnetwork-official]

The Latest Outbreak: Vampirism

Gotham City has never been known for normality. Supervillains, drug lords, bat-themed vigilantes, eco-terrorism; these are just a few of the countless difficulties and obstacles faced by Gothamites in their day-to-day lives.

One would think that, given all this, the people of Gotham could live through anything, and normally they’d be right.

Unfortunately there is something, or someone, new terrorizing the streets of our beloved city. A blood born infection with no known cure; Vampirism.

It has been four days since the first report of the virus, an anonymous source contacted us to let us know of a creature, humanoid, attacking two civilians in crime alley. This would be nothing out of the ordinary for Gotham if the two victims, pronounced DOA to Gotham Med (see related articles), had not disappeared before their bodies could be identified.

What was originally suspected to be foul play on the part of the hospital was later ruled out, given the fact that both victims were spotted multiple times in and around crime alley.

When asked to describe their appearance, one citizen who claims to have seen the pair described them as ashen, erratic, and frenzied. Claiming that he had originally thought them to be addicts, given how they were switching between being sluggish and lethargic to alert and conscious repeatedly.

The citizen then claims to have witnessed the two disappear between buildings, hearing a loud scream a few moments later, then seeing the pair reappear from the alley nearly 15 minutes later covered in blood.

This, along with multiple other accounts of such incidents involving both the original two victims but also multiple other missing persons, leads us to one answer; an outbreak of Vampirism (see related articles).

The symptoms of Vampirism vary, some may developing super-strength, speed, increased healing factors (see related articles), even immortality (see related articles), but one thing always remains the same; a thirst for human blood. Because of this many of those afflicted with Vampirism have taken to feeding on animals, something akin to us humans and metas sustaining ourselves solely on meal-replacement bars.

We sent one of our interns to speak with a few members of the Vampire community to get their two cents on the outbreak, as well as interviewing a few experts in the field.

Mr. Rosario ( @hinata-rosario-revamped ) (see related articles) stated that he had been turned only a few days prior to our interview. He had been walking home from working a night shift, passing through crime alley (see related articles), when he was attacked and bitten. The next day he had already developed the disease.

Because of the attack he is perpetually cold and hungry, terrified of himself and of outliving those around him. He claims he can no longer eat human food, touch garlic, silver, or holy water, cross running water, or go in the sun (see related articles). Unlike traditional depictions of Vampires (see related articles), he can, however, see himself in mirrors due to the fact that they are no longer backed by silver but aluminum.

He has developed fangs, something we can only imagine to be quite distressing, but has no knowledge of if he will develop any form of super strength, speed, or healing.

When asked about prominent vampire figure, Mr. Wing (better known as the Vampire King) ( @vamp-wing ), he responded -

“He should chug some garlic laced holy water”

A sentiment shared by many, given that the Vampire King (see related articles) is suspected to have started the current outbreak, having infected nearly everyone in his own universe with the disease.

We were also able to speak with a variant of Robin IV (see related articles) from the Vampire Kings universe. For the sake of simplicity we will be referring to him as Vampire Robin in this article. This is what he had to say on the matter of his transformation and the dangers associated the ‘Vampire King’-

“I was changed by the Vampire King in my world. He’s called Mr. Wing or Nightwing. He changed me several months ago.

At the time, the vampire outbreak was going on with the entire Justice League having changed. Father put us into hiding, he’s Batman in my world. Then, when he began realizing there was a mole in our group, Nightwing killed him.

I went to attack him, then he bit me. It was… painful. I was paralyzed and in pain. The last I remember was watching Nightwing kill Red Robin. We had our fights, but Red Robin was my brother and I felt like a failure in not saving him.”

He then goes on to explain that when we awoke he was taken in by Bruce Wayne (see related articles) and his butler, Alfred Pennyworth (see related articles). The Bruce Wayne of Vampire Robin’s universe had been funding Batman for several years and decided to help Vampire Robin despite him developing Vampirism.

When asked if he believes the Vampire King could be behind the outbreak in our universe he replied that, while he cannot be certain given that he has not yet travelled to our universe, it is entirely possible. He recommends that citizens daring to brave the city, even with the risk of being eaten alive, drink as much Holy Water (see related articles) as possible and carry garlic on their person at all times.

As for the symptoms he has experienced, he, like Mr. Rosario, states that he is constantly hungry and cold. His teeth have sharpened to fangs and his eyes have become red. All his senses are heightened, as well as his healing factor, and his blood no longer flows given that he relies on the blood of others to survive. He can no longer be in sunlight without burning and has become fully nocturnal.

As for how it has impacted him mentally, he states the the following -

“Emotionally, I feel disconnected from all of my loved ones, especially ones that are still human. I can’t be around them without wanting to eat them. It can feel isolating, especially on the diet I’m on where I only drink from blood bags. Most vampires don’t do that.”

As well as stating that when the hunger becomes near unbearable it is difficult to distinguish between humans and livestock.

Though we attempted to reach out to the Vampire King for an interview, he did not respond, something we now believe to be a blessing in disguise for our intern.

The most unfortunate part of this is that, while there are ways to mitigate the symptoms of Vampirism, there is no known cure nor any research into one going on at this time. We urge any and all scientists and academics reading this to act on finding a cure at once, and believe it should be our nations top priority.

Tell us your thoughts on the topic (here)

Gotham Reports is certified in fair, reliable, and unbiased reporting.

Due to a host of reasons, Gotham Reports’ uploading schedule will be irregular between 3:00 pm (pacific time) on Friday, August 9th to 9:00 pm (pacific time) on Monday, August 12th

[sephirthoughts]

Father: Verb

Summary: 11 year-old WMD Sephiroth is assigned a new handler/bodyguard, named Vincent Valentine.

(chapter 1 linked at bottom)

Chapter 2: Fried Chicken Family Dinner

******WARNING: REFERENCED TORTURE, CHILD ABUSE, ATTEMPTED SUICIDE******

******WARNING: HOJO******

Vincent didn’t come that morning. It was for the best, though, since Sephiroth had to go see the old professor, today. It was a regular part of his routine, but he had an instinctive desire to hide this specific thing from Vincent.

More than anything, he couldn’t bear the thought of Vincent seeing him, like that; a screaming, blubbering mess, drooling and stupid, strapped down to stop him clawing at his own body. Sometimes he vomited or pissed himself from the pain. He’d die of humiliation, if Vincent saw any of that.

He heard people talk enviously about his superior strength and his healing abilities, but a lot of times, he wished he didn’t have them. If he didn’t, maybe he wouldn’t have to keep going to the old professor to have these awful tests done on him, all the time. His one consolation was that they said he was getting stronger. He controlled himself better, every time, and he screamed a lot less than he used to. Most times he didn’t even lose consciousness.

This, however, was not one of those times. The old professor was abnormally strident, today, even for him, and when they wheeled Sephiroth back to his rooms, that evening, he was half catatonic, lying on the gurney, staring into oblivion, his green eyes glowing like fireflies, from the mako saturation.

His healing factor was frankly dizzying, however, and the chemical burns had completely faded from his ivory skin, before he even left the lab. By the time they got him to his quarters, his broken limbs had mostly healed.

When Vincent arrived, early the next morning, Sephiroth was as good as new, and there was no sign whatsoever that he’d been injured, at all. Vincent, however, had dark circles under his scarlet eyes, and was even more deathly-pale than usual.

“What’s the matter, Vincent, are you ill?” the boy asked, when he stepped in the door.

“I don’t get sick,” Vincent said curtly, which was how he said most things, and to which tone Sephiroth took no offense. “I had…trouble sleeping.”

“I don’t get sick, either. But I do have trouble sleeping. You should tell them to give you sedatives. They help a lot.”

“How was training yesterday? What did you do?”

Had my arms and legs crushed in a hydraulic press, my skin burned with caustic chemicals, got nearly drowned in a tank of mako, over and over, and was electrocuted until I vomited blood and passed out.

“Nothing special. Where were you?”

“Other assignment.”

The boy’s silver brows lowered. “You’re not bodyguarding someone else, are you? Because I forbid it. I won’t have your attention divided.”

“I’m not guarding anyone else, don’t act like a jealous wife,” Vincent replied, pointing to the door. “Breakfast. Move it.”

After Vincent became his handler, Sephiroth was given autonomy regarding his meals, and he chose to abjure the nutritional pastes, despite their efficiency, and eat in the dining hall, where everyone else ate. He had also refused the officers’ privilege of skipping ahead, and so the oddly matched pair became a common sight in the dining facility line.

People smiled behind their sleeves, to see the tiny, silver-haired nuclear bomb chatting blithely to his tall, black-haired, vampiric protector, as they waited in line, along with the rank and file, carrying trays, as if they were regular people.

An unintentional consequence of this, was that Sephiroth’s example shamed the other officers out of exercising that privilege, as well, and doing so immediately fell out of vogue within the upper ranks (except among the senior researchers, who only cared about getting nourishment as quickly as possible and getting back to work).

“Vincent, you’ve introduced me to so many good foods. Why don’t you eat?” Sephiroth asked, as he scooped up a forkful of fluffy, yellow scrambled eggs.

Vincent had a full tray of food in front of him, as well, but as per their usual, he would consume nothing, and Sephiroth would eagerly devour both their meals.

“No digestive system,” Vincent answered evenly. “At least, not a human one.”

“Mm,” Sephiroth nodded, when he’d finished chewing and swallowing. “I wondered if that were the case. You don’t have a heartbeat, either.”

“No heart to beat. I suppose you could say, I’m not even really alive.”

“Yes, you are,” Sephiroth contended, staunchly. “You don’t need a heart to be alive. Plenty of things live without hearts.”

“Like what?”

“Jellyfish, sea cucumbers, starfish, flatworms.”

Vincent’s shoulders slumped. “So…you think of me as a flatworm.”

“Well, not exactly. There’s some kind of materia in your body. Flatworms don’t have that.”

“Materia,” Vincent frowned. “How did you know about that?”

“I just know. I can sense its power all over you,” Sephiroth shrugged, without looking up. He was in the process of cutting his stack of pancakes into perfectly even twelfths.

“You just know? No one told you anything about me?”

“I haven’t asked. I would like to know what happened to you. But I thought you would rather tell me, than have me hear about it from someone else.”

“I did this to myself. There’s nothing to tell.”

Sephiroth’s eyes widened. “How could you do that to yourself? Destroying your major organs and replacing your heart with materia, would be—”

“I said, there’s nothing to tell!” Vincent snarled, his crimson eyes flashing a warning gold. “You are never to ask me about this again, understood?”

“U—understood,” Sephiroth faltered, taken aback by the perpetually mild-mannered Vincent’s abrupt shift in mood.

Just as quickly as it had risen, however, the storm passed. Vincent crossed his arms and receded into his cloak, till almost none of his face was visible. “No more talking. Eat our breakfasts. We have a lot of work to do, today.”

In the training yard, Sephiroth was practicing a new set of highly technical sword forms, that he’d devised himself. Vincent watched from the sidelines, with his arms still crossed under his cloak, so the boy couldn’t see his hands shaking.

Touching so close to that subject had terrified him so much, he almost swore he could feel the heart he did not have pounding in his disfigured chest. But he hadn’t said anything. He hadn’t broken the agreement. The old bastard wouldn’t call foul, just because the boy asked a question, would he?

No. He wouldn’t want to terminate their deal. Not yet. Vincent wasn’t fool enough to trust that sick psychopath, of course, but the man had some purpose of his own, in sending Vincent to take over Sephiroth’s care. That much was clear. Otherwise, he’d never have got within shouting distance of Lucrecia’s child.

Walking on tenterhooks around the subject of their complicated relationship to one another was a small price to pay, for being allowed to be close to the boy. This, after all, was the only way he’d be able to do what he had to do. The only way to gain absolution for Lucrecia. By cutting off this poisoned vine at the root. By killing her son.

As if he sensed the killing intent directed at him, the boy turned and looked at Vincent, across the training yard. His silver hair was hanging about his face, and his sword was pointed at the ground. For the briefest moment, an image of Sephiroth standing in this same pose, amidst a sea of flames, flashed across Vincent’s vision.

When he blinked, it was gone. The little boy was smiling at him, guileless and trusting. Proud of the skill he’d been demonstrating, and seeking approval from his mentor.

Vincent gave a slight nod of acknowledgement. It wasn’t much, but even that was enough to fuel Sephiroth for days. The child was so starved for human warmth, that the smallest word or gesture of kindness, or even the slightest affectionate touch, lit him up like a firework.

That was the worst part. His sweetness and vulnerability—his absolute innocence, contrasted with his superior intelligence, only made this all the more difficult. He was disarming and enchanting, and made one want to open their heart and let him crawl inside. The child may be an abomination, but even Vincent was not immune to his allure. A fallen angel was an angel, nonetheless.

Sephiroth was simply a different kind of being, to the rest of humanity. He was beautiful in a way that other people could never be. He was gentle and quiet, but as strong and sharp as steel. He was uncertain and self-conscious, but anyone who came close to him, he drew in and captivated, until they desired nothing more than to do anything and everything they could for him.

And his magnetism would only grow, as he got older and came into his own. An adult Sephiroth, at the height of his charisma and power, would be…a force of nature.

But right now, he was just a little boy in a cage. And the person he looked up to most was planning to slaughter him like an unblemished lamb, and make him a sacrifice, by whose blood the sins of his fathers would be washed clean.

When he thought of killing Lucrecia’s child, Vincent wanted to put Cerberus in his own mouth and pull the trigger. Not that it would do any good. He’d tried taking the quick and dirty way out, before, only to find that Chaos wouldn’t allow him to die.

Since he couldn’t atone with his own death, he must at least offer up those of the two others, in this thicket of thorns. He must rid the world of the monster they’d created, before it destroyed everything in its path, and turned the planet into a hell of fire and ash.

She had spoken to him, in that long darkness, and this was her wish. Hojo, the sinner. Sephiroth, the sin. Both must die, so the many may live.

He took his hand off the weapon in his holster. Not yet. Let him have a little more time. Just a little longer. Then, when the time did come, he would not waver. This was Lucrecia’s will, and Vincent must be her blade. It was the least he could do, for the one he’d failed so utterly.

Wasn’t it?

“Vincent, do you know what I want to eat for supper?” Sephiroth said, as they walked back toward his quarters.

“Spaghetti,” Vincent hazarded.

“Wrong! Tonight, I want to try something new. I want fried chicken.”

“Fried chicken. That shouldn’t be too difficult for the kitchen to make.”

“But I don’t want it from the kitchen. I heard some people talking about a place called an inn, in Nibelheim, where they make the best fried chicken in the world, or so they claim. I want to eat fried chicken from that place.”

Vincent balked. “You…want to leave the manor?”

“It’s close by, in the town. We won’t even have to take a transport. We can just walk.”

“Have you ever left the manor, before?”

“Well. No. But I’ve been looking at the town from the windows, my whole life, and I’ve never been there. Now that you’re here, I thought they might let me, if I go with you.”

“Sephiroth, this…this is not going to be an easy thing to get approved. You’re Shinra’s most valuable asset.” It also meant he’d have to speak to that person, but he did not say that aloud.

Sephiroth took Vincent’s big hand in both of his and tugged on it, looking up at him imploringly, with his large, long-lashed eyes. “Please, Vincent? Please, just ask? For me?”

Several minutes later, in one of the many top-secret areas, in the sub-basement of Shinra manor:

A dry, cackling laugh rang out, over the towers of bizarre lab equipment. “So, you want to take the boy to town, do you? Give the dog an inch and it wants a mile, eh?”

“It’s for one meal,” Vincent said icily. “Sephiroth has a right to experience normal things, like other children experience.”

“A right? He has no rights! He is an asset! An asset that belongs to me!”

Vincent crossed his arms. “Don’t you mean Shinra?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” the professor said, waving his hand dismissively. “I don’t have time for nonsense, so don’t come in here annoying me with these petty little things, anymore. Take the asset wherever you want to take him. Only, remember the leash I’ve got you on. And what happens, if you decide to try anything foolish.”

“How could I forget,” Vincent said, under his breath, as he turned and swept out of the room.

When he was gone, that deranged cackle rang out again, only this time it was uglier and even more gleeful. “Yes, take the boy out for treats, you stupid, dead dog. Sweeten him up. Make him like you. Make him trust you. All the better to teach him a lesson, about where he places his trust.”

When the two stepped out of the front gate of Shinra Manor, it occurred to Vincent that this was the first time either of them had left the place, in more than eleven years. It felt like less of a big deal than he would’ve expected. Nothing had changed, much.

As they entered the town, Sephiroth grabbed his hand, almost reflexively. Vincent’s nonexistent heart shattered into even more pieces. He glanced down at the boy, who was looking about, wide-eyed, at everything. Did he really have to kill this child? Was there no other way to avert the terrible fate she foresaw?

Nibelheim was a backwater nothing of a place, but Sephiroth had never been anywhere, so of course it was novel and exciting to him. Much like the very mundane foods he was constantly delighted by. The people he’d overheard talking hadn’t specified which inn, but the town had exactly one, so it wasn’t as if they could pick wrong.

To their discomfiture, the innkeeper and his staff appeared to have been waiting for them, and greeted them exuberantly as they entered the place. Sephiroth’s grip on Vincent’s hand tightened, but he had his placid, self-defense smile fixed on his pretty face, and no one would’ve suspected for a moment that his little hand was shaking.

“You’re the Shinra agent, right?” the innkeeper said, waving them in. “Manor called down a little while ago, said you’d be comin’ in. We’ve got a table all ready for you. Ah, this must be your son! Good lookin’ lad. Strong family resemblance, there, no mistake. Millie! Get out here and meet the gentleman from Shinra and his boy!”

Vincent was too dumbstruck to refute the man’s assumption, and Sephiroth just kept smiling and clutching his hand more tightly. Rather than correct the error, Vincent decided to let it slide and greet the innkeeper’s wife politely, in order to get this over with as quickly as possible.

She came out, drying her hands on an apron, cooed over Sephiroth’s prettiness and made more remarks to the effect of him strongly resembling his handsome father, and at long last, they were led to a table.

“Those people think I’m your son. They even said I look like you,” Sephiroth said, in an undertone, when the innkeeper and his wife had finally gone away, to let them look over the menus. “Do we really look so much alike?”

Vincent shook his head. “I think it’s just that I was holding your hand, and you’re the right age to be m—ahem—my…my son.”

“You can’t be more than twenty-five, though. I’m almost twelve,” Sephiroth pointed out. “How young do people breed, in this region?”

“Ah. Ha. I’m a little older than I look.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-nine. I was twenty-seven, when my body died. That’s why I look that age, still.”

“You died around the same time I was born,” Sephiroth said musingly. “What a strange—oh! I found it. I want this. The fried chicken family dinner.”

Vincent looked at the menu, where the boy was pointing. “It says it feeds a family of four. Hm. That might actually be enough food, for you.”

THE AUTHOR HAS SOMETHING TO SAY:

vincent: i can totally kill this child nbd

vincent: A SLIGHTLY SCARY SOCIAL SITUATION? HIDE BEHIND ME MY SON, DADDY WILL PROTECT YOU

link to ch 1

link to ao3

[court-of-constellations]

i'm trapped in a car and unbelievably bored so have some vampire stuff for my original universe (got a little long so I'm adding a cut)

vampirism is, first and foremost, a curse. vampires can be turned by other vampires, but most are people who, for whatever reason, were unable to rest after their deaths. most commonly, their bodies were used in a ritual of sorts, but it could also simply be unfinished business or something like that- the reason doesn't particularly matter, all that matters is that they can't move on.

there is, however, some criteria to become a vampire:

at least half human

a mostly intact body

some degree of magic power

and, most importantly, no prior magic effecting their body/soul (so, curses, blessings, etc)

Vampires are kept alive through their own magic (twisted as its become after their deaths). However, every type of magic requires a sacrifice of some sort, and since this magic is keeping them alive, it requires a life force in turn- blood. Because of this, vampires must drink blood to survive. While any kind of blood will do in a pinch, the better in heath the creature, the better the blood.

Some creatures do have blood that's poisonous to vampires or would have negative effects (such as fairies, whose blood may only be drunk with permission, lest it bind you to them forever) so most vampires simply stick with creatures they know for a fact won't hurt them and are easily available. A vampire living in more rural areas, for example, might choose to feed off livestock, while vampires in more populated areas might have to resort to humans. Contrary to popular belief, vampires absolutely do not have to drink the blood of humans, but it just so happens that the most well-known ones fed off of humans and that's thus the image of vampires in popular imagination.

If a vampire goes too long without blood, their body will slowly begin to decay once more and they will eventually go into a haze, attacking anything that has blood in a desperate attempt to sustain themselves. This haze is commonly called "bloodlust," and any new vampires are practically guaranteed to be in it until they've fed themselves enough. For that reason, new vampires are frequently caught and killed- it's actually quite rare for a vampire to live very long. The select vampires that do frequently find each other, and they've formed a loose community of sorts.

The only way to kill a vampire is to get them in the heart. Vampires are, as a rule, generally very resilient, and if they're fed well their magic will heal pretty much any injury, so the only way to be sure they're really dead is to hurt their heart. Any kind of stake will do (though they're pretty weak to silver, and wild roses and hawthorn can also hurt them pretty badly if used as a weapon). Sunlight, despite popular assumptions, actually doesn't hurt them at all- most vampires are simply crepuscular and are more active in the twilight hours.

There's a few things that can help you recognize a vampire:

sharper canines (a given)

completely unchanging (their hair and nails don't grow, etc)

colder average temperature than usual (they're functionally cold-blooded and rely on outer factors to regulate their temperature)

no pulse or blush (their heart has stopped beating so their blood isn't moving. thus, they can't blush or anything like that)

yellowish eyes (depending on the state of decay when they came back, their eyes may or may not look like a corpse's)

And that's pretty much it! Vampires are generally pretty normal except for their need to drink blood- sure, they could learn some magic that lets them so cool creepy things, but that's really up to each individual vampire.

I hope you enjoyed! Let me know if I should post more about this universe-

[alyssalenko]

Something in Your Mouth

Kaidan cuts his finger while cooking and Alyss has an idea to help speed the healing process along--and things get steamy with her wolfman...

This is the 4th chapter of my Mass Effect/Underworld AU 'Claimed' that sat at 361 words for five years and then the last 3 months I was very inspired. It was inspired by Nickelback's song of the same name. Unguis is another word for claws (or fangs, but in my case I used it for claws).

Alyss awoke as dusk settled and found herself wandering through the mansion in search of her werewolf lover, who was usually never far from her side. Kaidan's loud string of curses brought her into the kitchen to investigate, lavender eyes going wide at the sight of the blood, making her rush forward and take his hand in hers. He'd sliced his finger while making himself dinner and she brought his hand up to examine the wound–which was shallow and pretty superficial, thankfully, but it must’ve stung; and sure, as a lycan his healing factor was off the charts, but she had a better idea. Her lavender eyes went red and she licked a line up his cut finger, blood collecting on her tongue, making Kaidan inhale sharply, nostrils flaring as his mind went to an entirely different place, eyes darkening with lust as he watched her.

"What are you doing?"

"Vampires have healing saliva, remember?" She teased, taking the injured digit into her mouth and sucking gently.

She glanced at him and smirked around his finger, all the blood rushing straight to his dick, cock straining against his pants and he was fairly certain he had zipper marks up his shaft because of how cute she looked with something in her mouth. She met his eyes, Kaidan cursing at the intimate gesture. She knew the effect she had on him and his wolf and was using it to her advantage. A low growl rumbled from deep in his throat, brown eyes flashing to the gold of his wolf, both parts of him equally enthralled by her. If she kept this up he wasn't sure how long he could keep his wolf at bay, though considering how three days a month the wolf had complete control and took her with animalistic abandon and she enjoyed every minute of it, he knew she wouldn't mind if he couldn't manage the beast.

Alyss took a step closer, pressing her pelvis to his, able to feel every inch of his want for her. Kaidan moaned as she swirled her tongue around the tip of his finger and made him grip the edge of the counter with his free hand, grinding his hips against hers and creating a delicious friction between them. He pulled the digit from her mouth and cupped her chin, bringing his lips to hers in a heated kiss, forgetting about the meal prep he'd been doing as well as the injury on his finger; all he could think about was how he wanted to feel her skin against his…just strip them both naked and take her bent over the island countertop after her teasing him with that wicked and talented tongue of hers. But she apparently had other plans as she broke the kiss and slid down his body to her knees, fingertips hooking into the waistband of his pants. It was like she could read his mind and he wondered briefly if telepathy was one of her vampiric powers, but as soon as glanced down and met her eyes, every thought left his head.

She had her head cocked to one side watching him innocently, a question in her eyes and her face very close to where his erection was straining against his fly, practically begging for her attention. He nodded, growling as she winked at him, popping the button on his jeans and dragging the zipper down with agonizing slowness, his dick giving an eager throb as she bared him to her gaze. Alyss licked her lips as she took in the sight of him, shoving her hands into his jeans and cupping his ass before pushing the unyielding fabric off his hips and down his thighs, nails gently raking over his muscles. She leaned forward, trailing the tip of her tongue along the underside of his shaft, where it curved up towards his stomach and pressed a teasing kiss at the base of his crown.

One hand gripped his shaft as the other cupped him gently, making him groan, hips bucking towards her, arousal streaking through him. She gave him an affectionate squeeze as her tongue glided along his shaft from base to crown and circled around the head of his cock. Red lips opened to take the tip into her mouth, sucking hard and making his hips jerk as she sucked him off. Kaidan groaned in surprise, suddenly feeling the bones in his hand cracking and elongating, unguis threading through her black hair--apparently his wolf was as eager to touch her as he was. He hadn't lost control of the beast outside the full moons since he was a teenager--born werewolves able to control the transformations and change at will until the hormones puberty brought, made the blood run hot–but apparently she brought it out in him.

And he kind of liked it.

She nibbled his soft skin, feeling the blood and arousal pulsing through his shaft. Her lips pulled back, revealing her fangs as her beautiful lavender eyes turned red before she bent her head, Kaidan tensed, knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the counter behind him. Was she going to…? Fuck. At this point he was used to her bite, having let her feed on him whenever she needed to–whenever she was out of blood because she refused to take advantage of his long-standing offer unless it was absolutely necessary–but he didn’t mind; preferring her to bite him, as it usually led to sex, instead of feeding off some stranger and getting them all hot and bothered. There was no pain, just a slight familiar pressure as her fangs broke the skin, manicured nails gently scratching his thighs. He gasped, hips jerking forward as he felt his fangs lengthening, the claws on his other hand growing, and his eyes flashing once more to the gold of his wolf, her lips pressing against his shaft as she drank his blood slowly, tongue gliding across his dick, white shooting from his tip.

He'd never orgasmed so hard or so fast in his life.

She sat back on her heels looking smug, as she licked her lips–he must be the sight as he stood braced against the counter; panting hard, half transformed with his jeans pushed halfway down his thighs and his cock still half hard and throbbing, a drop of white beaded at the tip. Every inch of him was a little bigger than when she'd started this pleasurable torture, his wolf eager to be free of it's shackles and pushing against the rapidly fraying edges of his control. He growled and cupped her chin, claws brushing the skin of her cheek and making her shiver in delight as he guided her to her feet, flipping their bodies around to press her against the counter. She moaned as he worked her pants off, unguis gently scraping the skin of her hips when he slid the fabric down her legs, Alyss rocking her ass back, his shaft pumping between her thighs and rubbing against her clit as he leaned forward, smothering her back with his chest, two wolfish hands pinning her wrists to the countertop.

“You're trouble.” Kaidan whispered, lips teasing the outer shell of her ear.

“A little trouble never hurt anyone…” Alyss panted, rolling her hips to increase the pressure of the head of his erection massaging her clit as she turned her head to catch his kiss, one of his lengthened canines pricking her lower lip and drawing a strangled sound from her throat.

He chuckled darkly and gave her ass an affectionate squeeze, claws digging into her flesh as he brought her rear back flush against him, pumping his cock with her thighs, his shaft sliding back and forth though her slick folds. Her mouth fell open as he grasped her hips, Kaidan shifting his body ever so slightly, leaving her bereft of the friction she craved and making her let out a frustrated huff, which turned into a gasp halfway as he hilted himself inside of her, filling her, only pausing long enough to allow her body to grow accustomed to his new size–somewhere in between wolf and man–before he started moving. One hand closed around her throat, a feral growl rumbling from deep in his throat as he thrust forward, Alyss finding his rhythm and leaning into it, her heat surrounding him as he fucked her.

The little minx was enjoying herself.

He palmed one of her breasts roughly over the fabric of her shirt as the speed of his thrusts slowly increased, the pleasure inside him climbing higher. The hand that had closed around her throat released its grip, but barely a moment later tangled in her hair, tugging her head back as his hips bucked forward, driving him deeper inside her, her body responding to his every touch and eagerly matching his brutal pace, unintelligible things dripping from her lips. Her hand rested over his on her breast, fingers tightening around his, sliding their hands to where she needed his touch the most, Kaidan carefully rolling her clit between his claws. He came on a shudder, breathing labored, as he thrust deep and hard, spilling his release inside her. She groaned as his body slumped against hers for support, the weight of his convulsing muscles against her, and the pace of his fingers between her legs shattered the tension holding her orgasm back, body spasming and arching backwards towards him, drained and shaking. Breathing heavily, he pulled out of her, the two of them collapsing together against the edge of the counter, Kaidan drawing a gentle hand along her spine.

“I suppose I should let you finish cooking…” Alyss sighed reluctantly as she turned in his arms, pressing a kiss to his exposed fang.

Kaidan grinned wolfishly as he sank to his knees and draped her left leg over his shoulder, his gold wolf eyes flashing dangerously–and damn if she didn't swoon when he licked his chops. “I think I found something else I want to eat.”

“Fuck…me...” She whimpered as he cupped her ass, lifting her hips to his mouth and flicking her clit with his tongue before sucking the little nub between his lips and tugging it gently.

“I intend to.” He growled.

His vampyr had tamed the beast and brought both sides of him to heel--and he couldn't get enough.