#hector was not his enemy. he /was/ his friend. and the world (at least the world isaac was living in) wanted them to be against each other

[butcharyastark]

thinking once again about how painful but necessary the desire for revenge against hector is to isaac's arc, bc the thing is that it is unfair and it does hurt to see them pitted against each other, but that's part of the point. isaac doesn't really hate hector, he just hates what he represents, and to isaac hector represents a bucking of the security that gives isaac the only purpose he's found, the only morality that makes sense to him anymore. he starts out wanting revenge against hector bc he thinks he's betrayed them, which means betraying dracula, which means breaking down the only thing isaac has left anymore bc the thing is that dracula's presence and goals are both pillars of stability to isaac who doesn't believe in the goodness of people anymore, and so hector presumably unimaginably rejecting that is the necessary broken link in the chain that gets isaac on his road to genuine self-agency and recovery and believing in kindness again

bc the thing is that hector's betrayal (and dracula's following selfless compassion but not the focus of this post) is the first thing that spurs isaac into something he wants. it's him that's angry at the injustice and the fact his last haven of stability is gone. it sets him on the path to exploring and discovering goals of his own, nobody else's, bc before he was relying on dracula's support and plans as a coping mechanism and substitute for having control of his own life bc he had lost hope that there was any point at all to even trying to care about himself or what he might have wanted. and once that first domino tips, and the other players enter the board when isaac finally begins to interact with other ppl again (talking to the captain, that old woman, the demons) instead of shutting himself off, it can only end up one place from there: isaac realizing that he has a choice.

he wants revenge against hector and wants something for himself and realizes he has power to obtain it and makes an effort to care abt something new and he starts to realize that maybe what he really hated was himself bc maybe he never thought he was worth forgiveness either and maybe he thought humanity was hopeless bc he was hopeless and he starts to notice through recognition of the other that both starts and ends with hector that maybe, just maybe, if other people can be kind, if other humans can be worth trying for, if the world can be good--maybe they had never really been pitted against each other at all, maybe they had always been the same and had been trying their best to survive despite the horrors. maybe hector deserves compassion and kindness and tenderness and forgiveness... because realizes he deserves those things too.

[strawberryblue-blog]

Stay away —Héctor Fort.

summary: Hector is a customer at the coffee shop where you work and you start to have feelings for him.

warnings: none. angst, enemies to lovers?, Hector being flirtatious and arrogant, etc.

words count: +2k.

#SEXYNOTE: This story is divided in acts, which are short stories that take place at different points in time.

—Act one.

You dismissed some customers with a smile after they thanked you for your service. You took the things from the table and walked to the counter to deposit them there.

You heard the door of the store ring open and the murmur of kids coming in as they laughed and played. You sighed taking your notepad to put it in your apron when your friend, Carla, reached for it with a knowing look.

"Enjoy your table" she teased as she watched the boys sit at their typical table.

You rolled your eyes, sticking your tongue out at her as you turned to put on your best fake smile. You could feel a few stares as you made your way towards that table, the murmurs began to hush as they noticed you standing near them.

"Hey boys" you greeted politely. "What can I get for you guys?"

Your gaze met one of theirs and you smiled slightly towards the gaze of the young man, who quickly raised his head flirtatiously. Your skin bristled as you felt a shiver down your back but you pretended to smile towards them as if nothing was wrong.

The group of football players that came every afternoon after practice, some were flirtatious, some were more shy, some were chatty and some were quieter. There was one of them in particular who had tried to get your attention every time they came over but you never let it get to you.

"The usual, Y/n, please" Ferran said with his smile. And you nodded taking note as you remembered their orders.

Even though you knew exactly what they asked for, it was part of your job to ask what they wanted. They usually had the same thing but you knew that sometimes some of them changed their choices.

They had been coming in for coffee for at least five months, almost every afternoon. And even though you thought soccer players couldn't drink coffee, it turned out they could.

Of course you knew who they were. Everyone knew, even if you weren't into that world. The coffee shop was near the Barcelona stadium. Anyone who lived here would know exactly who they were. FC Barcelona and Spanish national team players. You still tried to stay out of the way and just do your job. It wasn't like it mattered much anyway.

"Anything else?" you asked looking around as you noticed some customers calling you.

"Your phone number, linda (beautiful)" one of them mumbled and the others cheered as they heard "linda".

You bit your tongue nonchalantly. You didn't feel flattered, or embarrassed, or special. It was just the opposite.

It was disgusting.

Hector Fort. You knew perfectly well whose voice it was. His name, his reputation, his talent. He had gained a lot of fame these last months with his plays, becoming a great player and all the women in town were dying for him.

But not you.

And he had been trying to flirt with you since the first time he sat at the cafeteria tables with cheesy compliments, little hints, trying to have something from you. But you wouldn't let him.

"In your dreams, honey" you mutter low and their friends again squeak an 'uhhh' mockingly as you turn and walk away from them.

The hour passes as you continue to serve the customers. But you can't fully focus on your work, you're scattered. For some reason that word is going around in your head. It wasn't the first time he had flirted with you but this time he had had some effect on you and you didn't even know why.

But for minutes you found yourself turning your gaze to his table, looking for the author of the word. And every time you looked, he was looking at you.

Haughty, head held high and with a flirtatious smile on his perfect face.

You could even see how his friends were talking to him but he wasn't paying attention to them, you were his attention. He was looking at you like you were the only person in here and it made you shiver.

He had been looking at you for days and you know it because you used to look at him too, although then you ended up looking away to do your job.

It was the first time you were so attracted to a client but you kept pretending he was just another one, because he really was. So, you put the ideas out of your head and went back to your daily tasks.

—Act two.

Another afternoon came and this time you found yourself waiting for the group of boys. You knew they would be here any minute and for some reason you had been longing for them to arrive (or maybe just one).

It had been two days since they had come and you were beginning to feel something strange in your chest. The sound of the door chimed and you turned to greet whoever had come in but were surprised when you saw only Hector enter.

He entered quietly and sat at his table, waiting for your attention. As you greeted the pair of grandparents who were saying goodbye, you grabbed their cups and took them to the wash quickly, you had to go serve customers.

But not just any customer. Hector Fort, who for some reason made you feel nervous.

Your eyes focused on the boy sitting alone as he waited with his arms on the table, sighing and stretching his legs. You swallowed saliva and silently approached the table, wiping your sweaty hands on your apron as your heart raced faster and faster.

Why did you suddenly feel this way? You had served Hector thousands of times before with his friends. You'd been serving clients for six months now, you never got this nervous. It was just your own ideas.

"Good afternoon, what can I get for you?" you asked sounding friendly but hiding the fact that you almost had a mini heart attack.

Hector's amused look rose from the table and watched you in front of him, nervous and almost trembling. A smile appeared on his lips and you could have sworn he enjoyed watching you as your voice trembled.

"Hi, linda" he greeted flirtatiously. "Are you on the menu?" he asked as he gave a quick glance of you.

«Linda» he had used that word again. You couldn't answer his stupid question sarcastically like you used to, because your heart went into overdrive and you froze how stupid.

"Just a black coffee, please" he indicated after a second. You nodded and smiled sideways, watching him.

Why had he come alone this time? You wanted to ask him. Normally all his friends came, it was already like everyday life. He wasn't wearing his typical workout clothes like when he used to come most of the time either, so you guessed that maybe he had come from somewhere else.

He looked particularly handsome today, though. His well shaped jawline shone with his glowing skin, his static curls static, he had a carefree, relaxed look. He made no jokes, no off-hand remarks, apart from the little joke from earlier.

He looked different. More real, more human. It sounded weird but it felt that way.

"What?" he asked with a smile. "Do I have something on my face?"

Oh god. Dear lord.

You'd been staring at him like a crazy person. That must have been awkward. It was. Damn. You shook your head barely and turned, literally running away from Hector. How embarrassing. Your cheeks burned at the thought that you'd been staring at him as if you'd forgotten who he was. You closed your eyes slapping your forehead and the image of the young man came back to your mind. Your stomach churned and you had to sigh for peace in your chest.

—Act three.

You finished delivering the order to a table and sighed, walking to the counter. Gina waited for you and pointed to the group of players laughing among themselves. They were back again.

After the lonely sight of Hector you thought maybe they wouldn't come back but here they were. So as part of your job, it was your turn to serve them again. It was quicker than you thought, you walked over and took the order quickly. Although you tried not to look at him, Hector's stare had been stabbing you the whole time. So you quickly escaped from the table while they continued to watch something and laugh.

You hadn't spoken to Hector since that afternoon. You asked Carla to replace you because you felt bad, but it was a little lie so you wouldn't go back to that table. Now you were watching them all laughing together as Carla poured coffee into the cups.

"Would you give this to Pedro?" she asked with a shy smile and you smiled as you watched her cheeks turn pink.

It was a slice of strawberry cake, one she had made in the morning. She had talked to Pedro the last few days and they had gone out to dinner two nights ago. You nodded and after taking all the things, you approached the table. With a smile, you handed everyone their order and when you got to Pedro, you took the cake.

"I didn't... order this" he mumbled confused.

"On the house" you muttered giving your friend a quick glance. Pedri watched her and his eyes sparkled at the sight of Carla greeting him. His friends mumbled something and some laughed carrying him.

"Only one night in your bed and you already have girls making you desserts" you heard Hector's voice sarcastic towards Pedro, laughing along with his friends who feasted.

"You have to teach me, friend, other girls prefer to play hard to get" he muttered straight to you and some of his friends hid stifled laughter, others just looked at him confused.

Your heart froze. He was talking about you. He said it with some suspicion while pointing his gaze towards you. You idiot. Not only had he just embarrassed you he also said that about your friend, he was calling your friend easy. He was an idiot.

His mocking look confronted you and you wanted to throw your coffee on him but you weren't going to do that. He didn't even deserve your attention, so you kept serving them as if you hadn't heard that. Smiling and holding your posture to show him that he wasn't worth it.

But something inside you resonated.

What had happened to that boy who came here alone the other afternoon? He had behaved well, he hadn't made jokes, he hadn't made fun of the situation. He just sat down, ordered his coffee, paid politely and greeted you on your way out. You thought that maybe something about him was worth admiring, that maybe he wasn't a jerk like they said or he looked like.

But now... now he was back to being the arrogant idiot Hector Fort. How everyone painted him.

Your chest shrank with emptiness. Your fingers trembled as you set his mug down in front of him and you wanted to tip it over again but you didn't.

—Act four.

Several days passed and like every afternoon, the group of boys continued to visit the store. Right now they were laughing while talking and pointing at something. Today it had been your turn to be behind the counter and you were glad at a certain point, you didn't want to go near them. You could see how Carla brought her red cheeks every time she came back from that table, you knew she liked Pedri, a shy and kind young man, who used to apologize for his friends' mess sometimes.

Compared to Hector, Pedro was someone kind and humble, he would never try to go over the top like the other idiot.

Why did he think you would go out with him? You were a simple girl who only worked to live and pay for your studies. You spent most of your time cooped up here or studying, you didn't have a bulky body, you weren't famous, you didn't even like to go out. What made him think he could treat you like you were just another prude? Idiot.

His jokes were constant, about your phone number, about taking you home, about what you were wearing, about anything to say to get your attention. It was unbearable. And normally you were used to dealing with idiot men trying to flirt with you. But Hector was so much more.

"Stop looking at him!" you heard a little shriek from your friend.

You turned your head quickly toward him. Damn. You'd been staring at that idiot again. Like he was going to commit some crime and you'd be the one to stop him, hoping to catch him in the act. You were watching out for your friend. You didn't know what his next move would be and Carla wasn't an object for him to appreciate. But you knew that was a pitiful lie. You were looking at him.

"I wasn't watching" you say nonchalantly as you brewed coffee in the machine and started it up.

"He's asking about you" he mentioned and your heart skipped a beat.

You relamiste your lip ignoring his comment but your body shuddered. You had been hiding behind the machines, in the kitchen, dodging his gaze, trying to go unnoticed. For some reason you were beginning to feel different around him and you wanted to eliminate any kind of empathy you felt for Hector.

He was a casanova. A womanizer. A jerk.

But you were starting to feel things for him. Like that time he flirted about your sweater or when he noticed you'd cut your hair, no one had ever noticed before. How he smiled at you as you set the coffee down in front of him or the time when his fingers caressed yours when he took the cup from your hands to help you. Your world stopped.

Ever since then you couldn't stop thinking about him. About his damn perfect face, his curly hair that you had wanted to stick your fingers in and comb through, about his muscular arms and the tattoo that covered his forearm. You had definitely lost your mind. You couldn't like him.

So since then you had tried to change your place with Carla during the evenings. You didn't even want to see him from afar. You needed to move on and ignore any feelings that grew in you. You were just a simple coffee server. He was all you would ever have.

—Act five.

After a long day in the cafeteria, you had finally finished serving the last customers of the day. Carla and your manager had already gone home and you were finishing up your business.

It had been a quiet afternoon, especially since the football group hadn't shown up today. But you tried not to make a big deal of it.

It was all gone.

Your little feelings for Hector, they were gone. Your mind was now clearer since you had started dating one of your classmates, nothing serious but at least your mind was occupied with something else. You clearly didn't like Hector, you were just a little persuaded by his constant flirting and you were over him.

So you had gone back to work as a waitress, ignoring the guy who was still trying to get close.

You had started to get along better with some of them, Ferran used to come up to the counter when you were there, he would talk to you and Carla. Sometimes they were joined by Alejandro or Pedro, two other nice and attentive guys.

When everything was ready inside, you left the premises and locked it with the key, making sure it was secure. It was late at night and you would change home today, there was nice weather and you weren't too far away, the streets were empty and it wasn't a dangerous area.

"Hey..." someone greeted and your hand shook as you held the lock.

Your body froze and even though your back was turned you knew exactly who it was. You gulped, catching your breath to slowly turn around. Surprised you watched the boy approach with his hands in his pocket and his gaze expectant.

"Oh, hi" you greeted in confusion. "Sorry, we're closed" you indicated pointing to the shop.

"I know, I was expecting that actually" he mentioned and you raised your eyebrows.

Had I been waiting for you to close? What did that mean?

"For what exactly?" you ask confused.

"To walk you home" he replies and your blood freezes. You are speechless.

Had he been waiting for you to close the place so he could take you home? Did he know you were due to close today or was he just passing by? He hadn't come to the coffee shop yesterday, nor today and you guessed it was because in a few days they would be traveling out of the country for an important match, as you had heard from Ferran.

"You don't have to" you say stowing your things in your bag.

"But I want to, if you let me" he takes a step forward and stands close to you. His deep gaze makes you sigh.

"It's not far. Better go home, Hector" you indicate starting to walk down the sidewalk.

You don't want any trouble. You don't want to owe anyone any favors, least of all him. It's not a bad way, you can just walk yourself home.

You sigh when you feel his footsteps behind you, following you. You turn a little and see him walking a few feet behind you, his hands in his pockets and his gaze fixed on you.

You stop. He stops. You start walking again. He walks back. You stop again and he stops again.

Your belly rumbles and you close your eyes as you feel the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. What is he supposed to do? Follow you home? Doesn't he understand your words? Or maybe he's just trying to protect you? No. He wouldn't do that, he doesn't have to.

Feelings start to well up in your chest and you feel like you're starting to suffocate. Having him around makes you feel like this. You don't want to feel this. You don't want to fall back into his nets.

"What do you want from me, Hector?" you ask tiredly turning around completely.

When your gaze meets yours your barriers fall. You'd been putting yourself in all this time saying you were over him. You had been pretending but you couldn't do it anymore. You liked Hector.

"I just want to walk you home" he murmurs low and slow.

"Why?" you insist. His gaze glows in the darkness like lanterns as he takes several steps towards you.

There is an overwhelming silence and with your gaze you ask him for explanations. Hector scratches the back of his neck nervously and stands up straight.

"Because I like you" he spits without preamble and your body freezes. "Haven't I made that clear enough to you these past few months?"

You shake your head. He's playing with you. You can't like a soccer player, not someone famous and handsome like him. You're a gamble. Surely he and his friends planned it all while you fell for it like a fool.

"No, you just want to play with me" you almost scream exhausted.

"Why do you think that?" he questions confused and takes another step. ""Is it because we are different?"

You deny again and want to turn to continue on your way but he stops you. His hand encircles yours and he spins you around, you fall onto his chest and your hands rest on his muscles as his hands wrap around your waist.

Your heart starts pounding as you notice how close they are, his breath mingles with yours and you swallow a sigh. Your eyes drop down to his mouth and you're dying to touch his lips, full, marked and appetizing. All your skin bristles as you feel his hands on you, you want to touch his face, his skin, his mouth, his neck. You want him to wrap his arms around you, to hold you, to kiss you.

And he does it. And you let him. His lips crash against yours and you merge in a strong and passionate kiss. His lips are warm and tasty and they kiss fleetingly feeling.

Your chest squeezes with mixed feelings that you thought had vanished. But in reality they haven't. As hard as it is for you to admit, you're in love with Hector. But he's not for you. You are not for him.

Your hands rest on his chest and you shoot out of his kiss, moving away from him.

"I can't" an overwhelming sigh leaves your lips. He looks at you confused and tries to get closer but you stop him.

Your head is dizzy and your lips are burning to kiss him again. But you can't.

"Listen to me, please" he tries to say it but you deny it. "I like you, ¿okay? A lot. I want to be with you" He insists on taking a step but you take another step back.

The butterflies in your stomach make you scared. He's not for you. You don't even know him. You can't.

"I don't want to have you around, stay away from my life" you scream with tears in your eyes before you turn and start running in some direction.

Tears fall down your eyes but this is the best thing for you. For both of us.

—Act six.

Since that night you have never been the same. Your feelings for Hector have grown inside you and now every time the door rings you expect him to be the one who enters the cafeteria. But he doesn't.

Hector hasn't come in since that night, especially after you asked him to leave you alone. He really did. He just stopped coming, stopped insisting. Maybe you overreacted that night or were too harsh and now you feel guilty. He took the news of her walking away very seriously and you were starting to feel your heart breaking.

The worst thing is that you yourself had broken your heart. Being afraid to love or at least to accept that someone could love you. That's what you wanted to think, but Hector wasn't someone for you. You didn't deserve him, you were just a girl who works to survive.

You two could never have anything. You didn't even know if you were really something to Hector. Maybe he was just messing with you and you were here losing your mind.

You walk slowly and depressed to his table, as you have been doing for the past two weeks. Your classmates are there, laughing and chatting as usual. But he's not there.

"Hey guys," you greet barely. "What can I get for you?" you repeat listlessly.

The players greet you and make their requests as they always do for almost seven months now. You want to ask about him, you want to know about him. But you don't know how to say it. You don't even know if you have the right to know. But you think you could take the risk.

"Isn't Hector... coming today?" you try to ask without sounding curious. His friends look at you in denial.

"He stopped coming with us" says one of them. "He says he has to do things" he explains.

I don't think he has anything to do. He just doesn't want to come here anymore. And that breaks your heart.

"He was the one who was excited to come before but now he stopped coming" says another laughing. "We actually got to know this place through him and I think it was the best decision to come here."

Your heart breaks into a thousand pieces. You smile, feeling your eyes sting from holding back tears.

"Thanks guys" you can barely say with your voice in a trickle. You turn on your heels weakly and begin to walk away from them.

Your chest burns and you start to feel like crying. You did that. You hurt him. You told him to stay away and now you ruined everything. All because of your fucking fear of loving someone. Someone like him.

Hector Fort, Barcelona player and Spanish national team player. The boy who has inhabited your heart for the last seven months.

The man you're in love with.

[blackjackkent]

All right, time to take Rakha through the South Span checkpoint. As I mentioned last time, I'm running on the assumption that this is about a day after the Gortash reveal; everyone is tired and emotional and Jaheira has made an executive decision that it's time to go talk to the Harpers and get some backup.

So in we go to Danthelon's Dancing Axe.

It occurs to me that among all the other things that Rakha is still learning about the world, Danthelon's is only the second proper shop that she's ever been in (the first being Angleiron's shop). So she definitely follows Jaheira in and just sort of looks around wide-eyed at all the stuff on display. It's a good distraction, at least for a moment, from her preoccupations, as is often the case when something confuses or surprises her.

Entharl immediately locks onto her as the leader of the group despite Jaheira approaching the counter:

"Greetings, saer! Your noble bearing brings a little class to my humble--"

"You can turn off the charm, Entharl. She's with me."

Immediately the dwarf's smarmy smile fades and he sighs. "Blueberries. Thought I had a sale." He quirks an eyebrow up at her thoughtfully. "You look tired, Harper."

(A/N: This is funny because per previous posts, Jaheira is running on about two hours of sleep at the moment and desperately trying to hold the group together.)

"I missed you too. They're already here?"

"Down below. Here's the key."

Rakha has only been sort of following this and cocks her head questioningly. "We were looking for a safe-house," she says. "This doesn't look like one."

Entharl laughs. "Agreed!" he says sourly. "Didn't stop Jaheira's lot from nesting in my cellar."

"Entharl's no Harper,"Jaheira says with a slow smile, "and claims no love for those who are." Her expression has relaxed considerably; even despite the strain of the last few days and the equal strain that lies ahead, it's evident that she has cheered up at the prospect of seeing her people again. This is, in fact, one of the nicest smiles Rakha has yet seen on her face; it's oddly comforting to witness. "But he's been known to shelter us when we need it."

The dwarf scoffs. "Entharl has been known to charge rent. Harpers have been known to ignore him." He rolls his eyes and makes a shooing motion with his hands. "Now go on. The Short Father may send me an actual paying customer today."

Rakha decides, oddly enough, that she kind of likes him. He reminds her a little of Jaheira herself, a gruff exterior over the help he can provide.

"Wait," she says abruptly. "I would like to take a look at your stock."

Entharl brightens up drastically. "To buy?! You're already my favorite."

Rakha, who is turning out to be deeply susceptible to anyone who actively expresses enjoying her presence, smiles almost imperceptibly.

-----

This was where Hector got his first fashion update since the start of the game; however, I still have yet to encounter any clothing-weight armor that works better for Rakha and that I like better on her than her starting robes, so she will continue in them.

However, we are rolling in money, so some of the other main party get an upgrade, because I like Entharl and feel bad that we're about to get blood all over his basement.

Studded Leather +2 for Jaheira and Leather +2 for Wyll.

Minthara and Lae'zel are in Ketheric's Armor and the Adamantine Splint, respectively, and probably staying in them until the end of the game. However, Minthara gets a new cloak (Cloak of Displacement, which gives her Blur at the start of combat) and Lae'zel gets new gloves (Gauntlets of the Warmaster, which gives enemies disadvantage on saving after her maneuvers).

"A pleasure," Entharl says when the trade is complete, and grins up at her. "Jaheira needs more friends like you."

Rakha isn't really sure that's true - but it makes her smile just a little again, all the same.

[beevean]

I keep not understanding what exactly are Lenector shippers seeing in their "dynamic". At least they agree that it had poor development, but then what is the appeal?

If you like the abusive, toxic, manipulative, imbalanced, BDSM, "good boy" part of S3, there's none of it in S4. Hector and Lenore talk like good friends, without a hint of their previous sexual tension, unless her puerile dick jokes are what passes as tension now.

If you like them as foils, if you see Lenore as the only person who has ever been kind to Hector, if you think it's romantic that the two want to protect each other in S4, then you have to ignore or justify Lenore's previous physical, mental, emotional and sexual abuse of Hector.

And if the appeal is the "development" (which one of these commenters called "enemies/lovers", literally where, Hector was never Lenore's enemy, he was her victim)... then it sucks majorly. There is no development. There's a switch! Like someone changed the radio station! It's jarring! And there is no good way to fill in the gaps without downplaying the horrible things Lenore did to Hector, or without justifying them because "she only meant well 🥺 it was the best solution 🥺", which makes me want to tear my face off my skull.

In fact... Lenore really didn't develop at all. I talked before about Hector in S4, who regressed to the point where he'd want Dracula back just to feel better about his mistakes and never addresses his apathy towards humanity or his tendency to cling to people who give him scraps of appreciation, but a similar thing happened to Lenore. Remember these wonderful lines:

"Oh, shush, you were having fun."

"I'm sorry for everything you went through."

Lenore doesn't care. She doesn't care that she has hurt Hector, that she has used his feelings to lie to his face and force him into an arrangement he hadn't consented to. She doesn't apologize for her own actions. She doesn't even try to explain herself, only retorting Hector's understandable irritation at the ring against him - "well you got hard, what are you complaining about?". Because that's what relationships are in this show: nothing but "cute" banter meant to camouflage abuse.

Oh, she wants to "protect him"? Big deal. She still doesn't seem him like a person who can be hurt by her actions. She still fits the description of vampiric love Carmilla gave in S2. He's still her pet in her eyes, even if she does nothing with it. Nothing has changed. She has just lost sexual interest in him, because now it's no longer fun to put a leash on him and talk to him like a dog. She got what she wanted, so now there's no point in flirting and being nice to him :)

Lenore is nothing more than a power-hungry coward when you read between the lines, less interested in power over the world (which she dislikes) and more in power over singular people. She's happy to beat Hector to an inch of his life when he's weak and in a cell, to prove that she's not to be underestimated, but when she is in a cage, she won't attempt a damn thing to flee it or protect herself from Isaac. She stops molesting flirting with Hector once he gains more confidence, because flirting for her is a mere weapon to psychologically bend someone to her will. After she "solved Hector's problem", she does nothing but whine because she doesn't know what to do, because she feels useless - her spending time with Hector seems nice on the surface, but it might also be seen as her going to be a brat to the only one willing to tolerate her. And, of course, the dialogue frames her choice to kill herself not as her being horrified at her own nature and what it has lead her to do, because villains in this show get to be painted as tragic without doing the work to earn it (*coughcoughdraculaandisaac*), but as her wanting to flee her cage - her position of powerlessness. Not even spending a few more decades with Hector, the man she supposedly has grown to care about and who only wants her in his life, is worth not being in total control.

And the clincher? This doesn't sound bad for a villain! Selfish and pathetic at the same time, under a veneer of "kindness" or "good intentions": that's interesting! And if this had been intended, good job for not spelling it out like I'm stupid, allowing me to put the pieces together? Problem is, the story and its fans insist that actually Lenore is a great person and she really liked Hector no really they should have stayed together and married each other because aren't they so uwu and 🥺 and why couldn't the story give the abusive rapist a second chance 🥺

And I can't see it. I can't. The deeper I look into this story, the more rot I unearth. And it's definitely not because I don't like unhealthy ships; in fact it's precisely because of it that I think this example is terrible. I haven't even touched other issues such as how I don't care for the power imbalance because I'm prevented from caring for the lump of flesh in the shape of Hector in S3 lol.

And to be honest, the more I see fans complaining about the lack of screentime, the more I suspect that the appeal of Lenector is the same as Trephacard's: you get to make shit up in your head and ignore what the screen shows you. Which sure you can do that, but then the actual story doesn't deserve praise, does it?

[eelhound]

"[After Patroclus is killed,] no amount of slaughter, no amount of humiliation, can ever or could ever make up for the loss of this beloved friend and companion, who is gone forever. Achilles dams up the River Xanthus with the corpses of Trojans, but it is not enough. He slays Hector, but killing the killer is not enough. Achilles then pierces Hector’s ankles ��� a vicious reminder that the Trojan’s legs were not fast enough to outrun the Greek’s swift feet — threading strips of oxhide through them, and drags the naked body behind his chariot round and round the walls of Troy, again and again, day after day. The dead man’s parents, wife, and people are made to watch the desecration of his corpse. Still it is not enough for Achilles. It will never be enough. He could humiliate Hector for all eternity, and Patroclus would still be dead.

It is only in the final two books, with the help of divine advice and human rituals of mourning, that Achilles begins to relent in his obstinate wrath. He recognizes at last that loss cannot be avoided or eliminated, and sometimes there is no possibility of adequate compensation. When we accept inadequate forms of compensation, knowing that they are not enough and that they are all there is, we can at least share in the universal experience of loss. Achilles shares his grief with his comrades in Book 23, through funeral rites and games to honor the dead man. In Book 24, he shares his grief even with his enemy: Priam, the old man whose son he has killed. Achilles welcomes Priam into his tent, sits and weeps with him, and says,

Two jars are set upon the floor of

Zeus —

from one, he gives good things, the other, bad.

When thundering Zeus gives somebody a mixture,

their life is sometimes bad and sometimes good.

But those he serves with unmixed suffering

are wretched. Terrible starvation drives them

across the shining world. They have no honor

from gods or mortals. (24.653–60)

Wine was generally mixed with water in antiquity and served from large mixing jars into cups. In Achilles’ parable, one of the cosmic jars contains unmixed suffering, like a wine-jar with nothing but water. The other contains a mixture of a blessings and pain, like wine mixed with water. It is a drink for those who have experienced great honor and wealth, as well as terrible loss. Achilles now understands that he, like Priam, has been fortunate: he has known success, glory, and love, as well as loss. The implied third jar containing only blessings, like unmixed wine or ambrosia, is for only the immortal gods.

Achilles’ wrath is driven by a belief that he, an extraordinarily talented, quick-footed fighter with divine blood in his veins, should never have to suffer loss without adequate compensation. His wrath can end only once he recognizes that no mortal, even the son of a goddess, can ever hope for such good fortune."

- Emily Wilson, from the introduction to her translation of The Iliad, 2023.

[justsomeno1s]

BasilKel swap AU notes

Woo! I've been sick since friday, so I figured I'll post some BK swap notes! These are from text messages with my irl friend- We finally beat the Omori route, and were supposed to do the Sunny route this weekend, so if some things seem off, its cause they don't know The Truth yet. (ALSO: THEY KNOW MY USER NOW!! HII!!!)

Anyway! Notes under Read More!

Idea originally came because of the Blurry Kel drawing/mod on Tumblr. Friend lit said "Man, imagine if Kel is the one who went missing instead of Basil?" and so it began.

A couple of HS Skill ideas for Basil: Plant powers, such as vines to slow enemies down or flowers to affect EMOTIONS. Also, I realized the pun Flash Bulb (As in, the kind used for old photography, and plant bulbs) and that's too good to not mention.

Friend was the one who came up with Kel Recording idea, b/c we were discussing what we wanted "his" house to look like. (In replacement for Basil's Shoe, Kel and Hero get a Blanket Fort! You'll see soon!)

This one's a bit weird, so stick with me: Kel's Pet Rock, formerly Hector, currently Roro, is going to be tied to the fast travel/Pluto "replacement". All we have nailed down for now is that most of the planets are going to appear and speak in one way or another (Roughly around Sweetheart's Castle section), and that the Mars representative is going to a giant space dog named Rover, and he'll act as fast travel. [Look, look- No one on this team should learn Flex /hj]

Hero's gonna end up being a bit short tempered by the end of the Headspace section. At first, he can hold it together, but as they search more and Kel goes unfound, the pressure makes him snappy.

Original text from friend: "Hero replacing Kel in bickering with Aubrey because of how callous she is acting about Kel's disappearance and Hero just not taking this well, snaps at her from time to time [return] Basil is just trying to break it up whenever it happens" (I'm not 100% sure how I feel about The Older Brother (tm) arguing with a kid, but it could be fun- or at least interesting)

Black Space is going to be fun! And by fun I mean angsty (hopefully")

I don't think Kel would go quietly. If he can fight, he will. The Neighbor Area and Spider Area would show that best, featuring Kel actively entering a battle against the friends (and dying after refusing to hurt Hero) and fighting Something in the Walls (Overwhelmed and consumed by Sunny's fear) on his own.

The other three are a bit harder to place/closer to the original:

Melon would need to be changed to match the pillows/cardboard aesthetic, but functionally could be the same.

Raft would be weird, b/c again, Kel would fight! If Omori attacked him, then he'd try to fight back, right? Unless he was killed in one hit, I guess, but still.

Treehouse... I mean, I guess it works! Don't fully get the Subtext of that one, tbh.

Then there's the room of original content!! Woo!

Remember Rover? Giant Space dog? I kinda want him to kill Kel in a Black Space room. Like, Rover has a key in his mouth, and Kel trusts him not to bite, so he reaches in to grab it, and naturally, Rover would bite him in half, then spit out the key.

Maybe a side room, where Omori tries to walk somewhere, but his feet get cut up by glass shards? idk

When I get some more time, I'll talk about some of the Real World ideas we came up with.

[thatonestoreguy]

Signs and Wonders

Hector is ready to leave the TARDIS, though the Seventh Doctor and Ace are conflicted about it. They all return to Liverpool where they meet some old friends, confront some new enemies, and face the end of the world.

This adventure is the conclusion to the Hector/Hex storyline that has been running since Gods and Monsters and arguably since Hex’s first appearance. Hector wants to start his life and while he doesn’t know what to do, he knows he can’t do it in the TARDIS where the Doctor and Ace are far too focused on the past. Liverpool is where it all began for Hex and for Hector. It’s fitting that it sees the end of them both. Philip Olivier has done an amazing job playing what is essentially two distinct characters. The parts in this adventure where the line between Hex and Hector becomes blurred are only so effective because of Oliver’s work establishing the characters so clearly. This adventure depicts Hex’s exit from the TARDIS and though he continues to appear in adventures set before this one, Olivier deserves a lot of credit for the amazing send off he receives here.

The city of Liverpool could easily become backdrop for the Hex storyline, but the adventure puts a lot of work into turning the area into a character all its own. The city's mythology is given classic Doctor Who twists as is, in many ways, the entire north of England. One of the main antagonists is a doomsday cult leader named Rufus Stone who has found a lot of success by appealing to the working class. Well, that and the fact that his predictions all seem to be coming true. The Doctor wants to get to the bottom of this apocalypse and it’s even discussed how little Doctor Who has focused on this region of England over all the others. Or at least at the time, pre Thirteenth Doctor. It provides for a very compelling adventure that pulls you in even as you enjoy the detailed character work. Hex and Liverpool are so intertwined that neither story seems like it’s getting in the way of the other, even as they diverge before coming together.

This is an amazing adventure which is a worthy send off for one of Big Finish’s best companions. The story has great acting, a fascinating setting, and as always fantastic sound design and direction which I don’t mention often enough. 

[boltlightning]

alright i watched on stranger tides and dead men tell no tales finally. i know you’ve all been waiting on pins and needles for my thoughts, so:

on stranger tides is......fine. good, even.

but i can’t believe this is called a “return to low fantasy” given...everything. like AWE is clearly high fantasy, but there were only one or two elements that pushed it into that category. OST has at least three or four that easily could have been removed and replaced with more conventional and appropriate stakes

RIP to groves and gillette who didn’t deserve that

barbossa’s back must hurt from carrying this entire film. his monologue about his leg is fucking all-time

the humor was not great and i cannot believe how far it fell lmao

it was pretty fun to see jack on his own for a bit, but i do think he shines best when paired with barbossa or gibbs in this one

2.5/5 movie

dead men tell no tales is one of the movies, ever :)

why. just...................why. in general: why

i do love barbossa and i feel like they were really missing out by not focusing more on his emotional threads

henry and carina were really good casts. they really looked like their parents

not to beat a dead horse. but. i feel like having a sympathetic admiral representing the royal navy in this film would’ve added a lot of weight to the premise. maybe that royal admiral could be a close friend of henry’s mother with a vested interest in his well-being and return to civilized society, rather than some inconsequential bullshit about the glory of england from a guy who matters so little i didn’t even catch his name. maybe...this admiral could be a skilled pirate hunter who knows the caribbean very well...the only officer who ever bested jack sparrow...who could that be i wonder...

i’m just saying while they were retconning shit from the first three movies they could at LEAST have considered bringing my man norrington back from the dead. maybe let him wear a ridiculous wig. that’s all i ask

i admit i did tear up seeing older will and elizabeth being happy and reunited at the end. it is hilarious that elizabeth had no lines but i’ll take what i can get

the music was very good in this one

1/5 movie. would not watch this again

in general: please. i am so tired of undead enemies to fight. i know it’s at least partially to excuse the lack of blood, but for god’s sake we know it’s a pg13 movie you do NOT have to keep having new ways for death to not matter. there is nothing wrong with enemies being normal mortals because human conflict is the most interesting thing about the franchise. (i feel like will becoming captain of the dutchman should’ve solved some of these things at least a little anyway. he should’ve been chasing salazar’s ass the entire time. but what do i know)

and i’m really not opposed to jack’s character slipping as much as it did in potc5 if they acknowledged it at all. i was giving the script the benefit of the doubt and thinking his newfound foolishness would tie in with barbossa’s arc. maybe jack and hector talk about how they’ve ruled the seas for as long as they have, and they’re old, and there’s only so much of the world left for them to chase. and maybe they’re not as good at this shit as they used to be!! carina being so involved in science could have been a catalyst for them to realize that hell, technology is beginning to outpace them and sailing is changing as a result. or something. but no. this would require any sort of reflection. so the idiocy persists for the goofs. goddamnit

i wonder if this says anything about the franchise as a whole. that the same characters fight death, over and over, never dying, and they never address the fact that they are clearly aging and dragging out their adventures on the seas well beyond their prime time, unwilling to make room for new faces and unable to move on from the days of old. but i’m sure it’s nothing

[that-house]

D&D Campaign Journal - Kingdom of Abrium

I'm DMing a campaign for some of my camp friends. Assuming all goes according to plan, it should run from levels 3-20 over a year or so of weekly sessions. We'll see how it goes!

The background:

In the beginning, the Holy Pantheon ruled over the land that would become Abrium, and there was peace and plenty. But it did not last.

The Lords of the World, seven merciless demons with power beyond those of gods or men, wrested the land from the Holy Pantheon, eradicating their worship and casting them into oblivion.

These tyrants demanded worship and sacrifice, filling oceans of blood in the millenia of their reign. By their orders, the Dominion waged a war of expansion, conquering all in their path. The elves, the dwarves, and the orcs resisted them, but no others could match their might.

A general in the Dominion’s armies, a young man by the name of Hector, held a deep hatred of the Lords in his heart. He’d lost his sister to one of their daily sacrifices, and he sought to end their reign.

He and some like-minded badasses get together, unite the common people, the elves, and the dwarves, shatter the Lords’ thrones, defeat their armies, and imprison the immortal tyrants in seven Demon Relics.

That was 35 years ago. Discontent has been brewing. There are those who thought themselves better off beneath the Lords of the World, and those who hope that by bringing them back, their ambitions can be satiated. The leaders of the rebellion are aging. The world needs heroes once more.

A quick overview of the cast (at least as of session 1):

KAID (Kingdom of Abrium Interface of Defense): a warforged, the setting’s first. Hexblade Warlock (Pact of the Blade). The result of a top secret government program, he’s the flagship of a new line of national heroes. Has magic laser eyes.

Rex: spent the last few decades scamming anyone gullible enough and stealing everything that wasn’t nailed down, mostly just for the sake of doing it. Human Bard (College of Creation). Had a change of heart and turned himself into jail, only to realize jail sucks. Serving the crown to redeem himself. Has a goblet that’s basically the lucky feat with a drawback (it slowly petrifies him into a gold statue as he uses it).

Kura: looking to avenge the massacre of his church by their high priest. Human Twilight Cleric (his god is Ix, the god of Births and Funerals). Edgy aesthetic, a little shy but a friendly guy deep down, party tank. He has a sword forged from the steel holy symbols of his fallen comrades, which can extract the lifeforce from dying enemies to heal the team.

Kirsi Yawyn: third daughter of the most important High Noble house. Dragonborn Fighter (Samurai). Seeking to redeem her family after the Scepter of Superbia (one of those Demon Relics) was stolen from them. She's a bit sheltered and overly formal, but a nice person. Her swords allow her to choose to use her Breath Weapon to incapacitate enemies instead of dealing damage.

[greensaplinggrace]

Castlevania Fanfiction Recommendations

Wellspring (Complete) Trephacard

Wellspring (n): Where something begins. 

Trevor’s been throwing rocks and coins and shit into wells for most of his life, without any expectation of getting wishes granted or anything stupid like that. All he really wants is to know there's something down there.

Baba (Complete) Trephacard

Deep in the wilds, mysterious things wander through the lands on mysterious trails. Dracula isn't the only legend that walks their earth.

In stumbling across an abandoned village that seems too good to be true, Trevor stumbles across himself, too. Lucky for him and the lives of the countrymen riding on his success, Alucard and Sypha are there to pick him up.

Every Horse Movie (Epilogue) (Complete) Trephacard

Trevor basks in his Horse Victory, then inadvertently gets caught up in another person's in-progress movie. 

Walpurgisnacht (Complete) Trephacard

Two cold and lonely travellers take refuge in a mysterious castle... a castle which contains AT LEAST 0.5 vampires. And then they get snowed in.

Flirtation ensues.

Moon River (Complete) Trephacard

Trevor falls into a river.

Which normally, you know, wouldn't be so bad for the monster hunter, except it's the middle of the night. In winter. And instead of falling he may have been pushed in by an enemy vampire

.......yeah, this might be bad

Ten Second Tidy (Incomplete - 12/13) Trephacard

After everything, there is the cleanup. 

Understandings (Complete) Trephacard

Trevor had thought he'd understood, what the three of them meant to each other, what they were becoming. Or he'd hoped. 

Whiter Fang (Incomplete - 9/10) Trevorcard

Trevor finds an injured wolf in the woods. He can’t just... leave it.

Or: The timeline in which Trevor and Sypha find an empty coffin under Gresit but wind up meeting Alucard anyway.

an evening’s rest (Complete) Trephacard

“Oh, Trevor,” says Alucard, as he settles into the armchair by the fire, “you’re awake. Good. Sypha and I were just talking about you.”

“You were?” says Trevor, not quite sure whether to be concerned or excited by the prospect. Alucard and Sypha being the way they are, it’s fifty-fifty as to whether this conversation is going to end in spectacularly inventive sex, or with the pair of them giving him the silent treatment until he agrees to actually cut his hair for once, or replace his boots just because half the sole is missing on one of them, or god knows what else. He lives in fear of the day they decide he needs to learn how to darn socks.

Adrian’s Amazing Adventure (Incomplete - 7/9) Trepha

In which Adrian is a brat and way too smart for anyone’s good, Trevor is confused but he’s also too well trained for his own good, Dracula may not be capable of getting a heart attack but that doesn’t stop him from trying, Sypha swears she is the only one with a functioning brain around here, and Lisa schemes like a proper Lady of the Night.

Or: Adrian activates his father’s transmission mirror, ends up in unfamilliar woods and adopts a hunter. Everyone else just has to deal with it.

Blind Date with a Belmont (Complete) Trevorcard

If there was one constant in Adrian's life, it was this: Belmonts could never be trusted.

It'd been twelve years since they'd abruptly stopped hunting Adrian's family. His parents had never explained why the pact was formed, but after more than a decade of peace, Adrian finally learned to stop looking over his shoulder. Life in a small town, working in his mother's bookstore, was quiet and simple, if sometimes a bit dull.

Then a new Belmont entered the picture: less threatening than he should be, with dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and a baffling interest in Adrian's newly proposed Blind Date with a Book display.

From birth, Adrian had been taught to fear the Belmonts. Somehow, this one was different.

We’ll Have Ourselves a Merry Christmas, One Way or Another (Complete) Trephacard

Adrian is feeling down about the holidays after having a fight with his father about his relationship with Trevor and Sypha. His partners are supportive in their own ways and Lisa Tepes talks some sense into her husband behind the scenes. 

dirty paws (Complete) Trevorcard

Trevor befriends a wolf. 

Honorary Family (Complete) Trevorcard

Trevor is only twelve when his family and home are burned and taken away from him, a month on his own in the wilderness is harder than it sounds when a kid is in that mindset. One desperate night he plans to steal some food and medicine from a home and ends up intervening when Lisa is being threatened by the church and saves her life but is taken in her place.

After almost being burned himself Trevor wakes up in the famous Dracula castle being taken care of, he bonds with Lisa quickly but has a harder time learning to trust Dracula and Adrian due to his upbringing. Or in which Trevor saves Lisa and ends up being semi-adopted by the Tepes family, he and Adrian have an odd relationship. They get at each other's throats but are also partners in crime a lot of the time. It might take Trevor a while to figure out what exactly this feeling is that isn't quite brothership but is definitely more than just friends.

Righting Wrongs (Complete) Trevorcard 

Trevor stumbles through the area of Târgoviște, right in time to witness Lisa being accused of witchcraft. He doesn't take kindly to that. And the Țepeș family does not forget their debts. 

A Parental Predicament (Complete) Trevorcard

Adrian is bringing home his boyfriend to meet his parents. There's just one tiny problem: his boyfriend is a descendant of a notorious monster-hunting family, and his father is Dracula.

It goes about as well as you would expect.

end of sanctuary (Complete) Trephacard

With the help of psychological magic, Trevor and Sypha enter into Alucard's dream world in order to help him confront his trauma, guilt, and other personal demons while also reevaluating their own relationship to him. 

The Threat of Explosion (Complete) Isaac/Hector

Isaac acts decisively to keep Hector from siding with Carmilla.

A.K.A. The seduction of Hector or Isaac thinks Hector deserves nice things.

Good Gloaming (Complete) Isaac/Hector

“Ah,” Isaac sighs when they first meet. “You’re the other Forgemaster.”

He says “other” the way most people say “pig shit,” but Hector’s tired from traveling and he doesn’t really think much about it until he’s gotten lost for the third time in an hour, in the same wing of the castle—following the directions that Isaac gave him.

In Memoriam (Complete) Gen & Trephacard

Trevor Belmont's family died when he was 12. He's spent quite a lot of time running from it since then. Lying to himself.

“But you know that the word Teloch means of death, right?”

Maybe, maybe it's time to stop.

Deliverance (Incomplete - 35/?) Trephacard

Adrian is beginning to think that Wallachia will be a smoking pile of ash long before he, Trevor, and Sypha can stop Dracula’s war on humanity. They’ve been chasing the castle for months, but each time they get close, it vanishes. Traveling with such genuine and trustworthy allies has been unexpectedly pleasant; Adrian doesn’t mind that Trevor and Sypha are involved with each other, but he is taken entirely by surprise when they open their relationship to him one evening.

Hopelessly in over his head, his heart keeps urging him forward, even when he’s forced to confront the darkest aspects of his nature. Adrian must learn to swallow his pride and let himself be vulnerable if he wants a chance at happiness. Unfortunately, there isn’t much time for looking within when the world is drenched in blood and magic, and the path to victory may destroy him completely. 

With Broken Words I’ve Tried To Say (Complete) Trevorcard

In which Alucard sends a letter to Sypha, but ends up corresponding with Trevor instead. 

The Shops On Morning Street (Complete) Trevorcard

Trevor Belmont, former monster hunter and current florist, is tasked with looking into the proprietor of the new tattoo parlor across the street, much to his annoyance.

What he finds is Adrian Ţepeş, current half-vampire, current tattoo artist, and a whole lot more than Trevor bargained for.

[decennia]

Ok I just gave up catching up on my dash full stop because Clementine and George and Wildest Dreams got my brain like this:

I feel I desperately need to make an OC for George but he is YOUR precious lol

So instead while I'm here, give me and I mean GIVE all your George and Clementine headcanon

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I WAS FINISHING UP SOME GIFS ✨

First things first, that image lives in my mind rent free.

Second things second, please create an OC for George holy shit please yes?! George has already been romantically (or at least sexually, because Sable is a hoe) linked to Ellis Grant from @chlobenet (nothing ever came of it, George developed an infatuation and was perpetually rebuffed by our Lord and Saviour Miss Grant), @perfectlystiles' Laurel Chase, and @randomestfandoms-ocs' Reese Masrani. It is my goal to accumulate enough George Cassidy romantic interests that I can make a Wives of Henry the Eighth edit, so literally go nuts. Everyone, Create An OC To Thirst Over George Cassidy Challenge!

The best thing about George and the other Corpsemen is that the only thing that makes them Jurassic World OCs is that they happen to be hired there. It is by no means their entire story, and although they've been around for literally three days (?!) I keep thinking of more and more things about them and I keep building their backstories to the point where dinosaurs are literally the least craziest thing they've experienced.

If I were to sum up Clem and George's relationship in a gif, though:

(This got hella out of hand so keep reading under the cut if you want to know more about George and Clementine.)

A brief history on George "Sable" Cassidy and Clementine "Calico" Roscoe:

He is known as "George" to his friends, and "Cassidy" to his enemies. "Sable" when he's on the job, and "hers" when they're alone.

But it wasn't always like that. I'm not going to bore you with the details about George's fatherless upbringing, or his reasons for joining the British military, or how he'd always been a bit of a troubled kid. Where his story really begins is when he directly disobeys orders and murders the military hostages who were responsible for the attack on his unit. He is dishonourably discharged, and is sent back to the U.K. to await trial for murder and treason.

He manages an escape and goes dark; during which time, Clementine Roscoe, an agent at Interpol, is assigned his case. Unfortunately, after a year of searching (one close call where he was literally within breathing distance of Roscoe ) and a thousand too many mistaken sightings after that, the case goes cold, and she is assigned another case, one which results in the death of her entire family.

Clementine resigns from her position after she is denied leave to pursue the murderers, and spends the next few years methodically hunting down and executing the list of people she knew to be responsible. It was enough to impress Malcolm Drake, who located and recruited her into the Corpse Corporals (aka Gucci Suicide Squad).

All this time, Cassidy had been residing in Southern Africa, making a hefty living as a poacher under ever-changing pseudonyms (I had to make y'all understand that Sable is a bad man but y'all be forgiving Tom for murder and incest so here we are but honestly did it even work because here I am, being fooled, alongside you 😭). He runs a pretty decent operation, also dabbling in the smuggling of weaponry, and he lives a comfortable life. That is, until he is betrayed by his business partners (a brother-sister duo, FCs Megan Fox and Aidan Turner? Idk, still debating) and pushed out of the business under threat of death.

He is rescued by Malcolm, who has managed to track him down, and in exchange for his life spared, he agrees to work for Malcolm. His reunion with Clem is incredibly tense, with both of them pulling their guns on each other and refusing to work together. Malcolm snaps some sense into them (that, and the sum of the payload which had so many 0's added to the end, you couldn't be sure what the number really was other than "a lot") and they swallow their pride and work together.

They would continue to work together as Calico and Sable for the years to come, and when I say it is a slow burn, I do mean THE SLOWEST OF THE SLOW. But there is definitely a fuck ton of sexual tension thrown in there for angst, and a couple of near brushes with death (hazard of the job, really).

George is a prolific man whore, and he's bisexual and proud. So Clem has gotten used to an endless slew of people of all genders cumming coming and going from his hotel room, especially during the long cons where the Corpsemen go deep undercover for months at a time (Hector doesn't come on those jobs, he's got a family to worry about. He taps out at a month, max, if he doesn't get to leave to see his family).

George Cassidy is not a man who is used to not getting what he wants, but Clementine Roscoe is the only exception to that rule. He has come to view her as "unobtainable," this irreverent forbidden thing that he must not ruin. By the time the heat of their mutual hate had dissipated, it had turned into a friendship, and although there was an undeniable electric tension between them, they have never done anything about it. But it has that "will definitely be the best sex of your life" kinda energy.

They fight quite a lot, and disagree on almost everything. Have they tried to kill each other? Oh, absolutely. But they're also professionals, and although Clementine and George may be going at it, it never bothers Malcolm, because he knows that Calico and Sable will put those differences aside and do the damn job.

Clem only involves herself in George's sex life when it comes to people who she considers friends. She has the warnings already mentally scripted, because the thing about George Cassidy is that he cares about no one but himself, and nothing but his holy trinity: blood, money, and sex. He's an emotionally devoid sociopath at the best of times, and at the worst, he's a well oiled and dangerous killing machine.

He is not a good man, Clementine knows, but sometimes, you don't want a good man.

I have a gifset in store involving the two of them, and I'm busy compiling a list of headcanons as we speak. If you want, I can tag you in it :)

But this is everything about their past and a bit of their present, so if you want to create an OC please do and tag me so I can write up a crossover and make some gifs 💕

(And before anyone comes for me, yes, I am aware of the fact that George "Sable" Cassidy is a very toxic and fucking despicable man, I created him, and I made him that way. I am not condoning his actions, nor would I want to be in a relationship with him in real life, but this is fiction. It is not meant to be taken seriously, if you don't like my hot mercenary boyfriend, then please unfollow me, because he is my current obsession, and I cannot promise that I will not be thirsting for him on my TL at any and all hours).

[blackjackkent]

Lae'zel is REALLY not one for gratitude and such things, which makes me think she and Hector are going to clash a lot.

"The tadpole hasn't yet scrambled all your senses. Auspicious. But the longer we wait, the more it consumes. My people possess the cure for this infection. I must find a creche. You will join me."

Despite having just been freed from her cage, she sounds almost angry - perhaps not at him, but at their situation, or the world, or the ghaik, but the effect is the same. He wants to treat her as a friend, and she keeps treating him as an enemy.

Shadowheart scowls.

"Careful. She obviously sees your kindness as weakness. Don't let her take advantage."

And to be honest, Hector - despite his inclination, instinct, and desire to the contrary - is more than a little irritated with this reception after everything that's happened.

"A simple 'thank you' wouldn't go amiss."

She raises her eyebrows disdainfully.

"You may as well suggest a wyvern bow to worms. The cure I offer will suffice as thanks."

That hurts a little, to be honest. Hector really was thinking of her as a friend in this dreadful situation, but it's quite clear she thinks of him, at best, as a speed bump. But...if it's true that she does have a cure, somewhere she can lead him to...

"And what exactly is a creche...?" he asks cautiously.

She shrugs. "It is many things. A hatchery, a training grounds, a shelter. Githyanki protocol is clear. When infected with a ghaik tadpole, we must report to a ghustil for purification."

Well, that sounds promising. Horrible as this situation is, apparently it is not an unknown in githyanki culture. Her tone continues to grate, though, and he snaps back moodily, "I thought you already *had* a cure. With you, right here."

She rolls her eyes and sneers. "A pity, that. I made an offer and you accepted. Your fantasy is not my burden."

Fair enough, really, but her disdain is still more than a little upsetting. He will continue to travel with her, because he needs what she's offering, but he will not make the mistake of trusting her to have an attitude of friendliness again any time soon.

"All right," he says, turning away and moving down the path away from her. "We journey together. Let's find this creche."

---

Oop we hit the party cap. I was afraid of that. "Dismiss your weakest warrior," Lae'zel says, because of course she does, but to be honest, Hector doesn't have any patience for her just at this moment. Astarion held a knife to his throat, but even he made at least a pretense of kinder words afterwards.

So he sends Lae'zel to wait at the camp for now. We'll figure out the creche thing when we next stop. She accepted this, but did note that she demands to be present for the interrogation of the tiefling camp, since they apparently knew githyanki and might know where the creche is.

We'll see.

[beevean]

For the character thing: Zero and Hector!

Zero:

favorite thing about them: his character arc in the Zero series and his cool attitude. His gameplay is also super fun too :D

least favorite thing about them: how he stole X's role as the protagonist in his own series. Good thing he eventually got his own series, but man, in games like X4 you'd almost forget the blue guy is there.

favorite line: "I never cared about justice, and I don't recall ever calling myself a hero… I have always only fought for the people I believe in. I won't hesitate… If an enemy appears in front of me, I will destroy it!"

brOTP: XZero, I love their close friendship <3

OTP: Zerociel. Very much like their development and how they make each other better :) and, yeah, XZero works romantically too, I just think their bond is wholesome no matter what.

nOTP: uhh I don't know? Does... Does Zero/Sigma exist? Don't answer it.

unpopular opinion: don't think I have one, I don't closely associate with the MM fandom lol.

song i associate with them: Falling Down, his most memorable moment of glory.

favorite picture of them

Hector:

favorite thing about them: his whole character arc of him learning to accept his own humanity and worth <3

least favorite thing about them: the implication that he fell in love with Julia because she looks a lot like Rosaly. Dude. That's a dick move >:( and it's not like the narrative is complex enough to explore the kind of trauma that would lead him to latch on people like that :\

favorite line: “Even if the world of man rejects me… Even if I were to not have a place to exist… Even if I were to be hated… Even so… I am human. I sought this power so that I could remain human! Not for anyone’s sake! For me!! For myself!! Not to be the pawn in some ridiculous plot for revenge!!”

brOTP: Helia! I want them to be friends :D

OTP: Hectaly my beloved ;A; they're so stinking cute and they have a warm chemistry and FUCK YOU ISAAC YOU JEALOUS SLUT. Also yeah I very much like Isaactor in that "they could have been something more, if life didn't doom them to grow apart" way.

nOTP: Lenector lol. Absolutely disgusting and disrespectful. Don't really have one in game, but I guess my least favorite ship with him is Aluctor (I just don't feel they'd have an interesting chemistry)

random headcanon: he names his Devils after mythological Greek figures, to honor his origins.

unpopular opinion: he's not just Angry Dude lol. Even more unpopular, N!Hector started out as a perfectly valid interpretation of pre-betrayal Hector, what with his very alien view of humankind, and if he only betrayed Dracula of his own instead of being used by Girlboss Vampire (with all that it lead to), I would have had far less problems with him.

song i associate with them: Awake by Ok Goodnight. In my opinion it perfectly fits Hector's growing sense of self worth and his escape from Castlevania. (the bridge is ofc the fight with Isaac)

favorite picture of them:

[aion-rsa]

Scarface: Where Tony Montana Went Wrong

https://ift.tt/3oFBFiL

“All I have in this world is my balls and my word, and I don’t break them for no one,” Tony Montana declares in the 1983 gangster classic, Scarface. Yet Al Pacino’s antihero breaks both in his quest for money, power, and women. And just as he is on the brink of winning the trifecta, he is blown away like so much dust up a nose.

Did he lose because the Cuban mobster didn’t heed the advice of his first crime boss? Or is it because he just couldn’t stand to see his sister and his best friend wearing his-and-her pajamas? In truth, Montana’s fall can probably be traced back to when he learned to speak English by “watching guys like Humphrey Bogart and James Cagney.”

Directed by Brian De Palma, and written by Oliver Stone, Scarface is a remake of Howard Hawks’ vastly influential 1932 mob movie, so Montana’s explosive descent was preordained. Tony Montana continued Pacino’s run of criminal icons, which included Sonny in Dog Day Afternoon and the ultimate crime family head, Michael Corleone in The Godfather films. The actor supplanted Paul Muni’s Tony Carmonte as the recognizably scarred face of the title role. Pacino would go on to play Carlito in Carlito’s Way and Lefty in Donnie Brasco, but while each hoodlum brings a new facet to his rogues gallery, none of his gangsters ever achieve their ultimate desires. They almost all reach dizzying heights, and everyone of them sees the dream slip through their fingers. Still, Montana experiences perhaps the greatest fall of all.

The original 1932 film took place during Prohibition when crime was a viable means of survival. De Palma’s adaptation happens in the Reagan era, a time when lucky opportunists could get their lips around the spigots of cash before it got a chance to trickle down. Tony’s economic theory is much more succinct: “You know what capitalism is? Getting fucked.”

Scarface is a rags-to-riches-to-self-destructive fireball story, and nothing succeeds like excess. Montana’s first crime boss in America, Frank Lopez (Robert Loggia), has weathered the climate change from President Carter to the Gipper, and warns Tony to never “underestimate the other guy’s greed.”

In the original Howard Hughes production, Tony was an immigrant from Italy. In the Cold War era film, Montana is a refugee from Cuba. Their shared first mistake is to believe in the American Dream.

The World Is Yours

These words are flashed in both films and hit each of the two criminal aspirants as hard as the “give me your tired, poor, and hungry” promises carved under the Statue of Liberty. Scarface opens shortly after the Mariel boatlift, the 1980 exodus which followed Cuba’s economic crash. Montana seeks asylum, telling immigration officers he is a political prisoner who doesn’t agree with his country’s politics and owns nothing under communism. He says even American prison is better than his life on the Caribbean island. The officers note his criminal past, the telltale tattoo on his arm, and the scar on his face, which despite their insults was obviously not caused by oral sex.

In exchange for a Green Card, Montana and his friend Manny Ribera (Steven Bauer) assassinate Gen. Emilio Rebenga, who tortured the brother of the crime boss Lopez. Tony settles in sunny Miami. And when he gets out of the kitchen and into the heat of crime, he hits the ground running. “The World Is Yours,” after all. All you have to do is take it, and Montana has both hands out.

Frank warns his protégé, “The guys who last in this business are the guys who fly straight – lowkey, quiet; and the guys who want it all – chicas, champagne, flash – they don’t last.” But Montana is a meteor, bound to burn up in the atmosphere. He gets caught on the orbit of Alejandro Sosa (Paul Shenar), agreeing to supply cocaine from Bolivia independent of the other drug lords. Within a few years, Montana is doing so well, the feds target him for tax evasion.

Tony’s Betrayal of Frank Lopez

Montana’s betrayal of Frank Lopez is crucial to his downfall. Frank is the father figure who initially took a chance on Tony. He let him rise through the ranks, even as he tried to bite off more than he could chew. Frank’s biggest mistake is not making sure his underlings follow his sage advice. He also ignores one of his own commandments. Lopez underestimates Montana’s greed. He trusts Tony to accompany his trusted second-gun Omar Suarez (F. Murray Abraham) to Bolivia to meet with Sosa, and continues to let Tony operate after the druglord hangs Suarez from a helicopter.

The deal Montana makes behind Frank’s back is a major step toward the fall. The vow Tony takes never to betray Sosa ultimately leads to the last splash. Montana breaks his word to both of these men, and they bust his balls as a result. When Tony returns to Miami, Frank is suspicious over Omar’s death and his returning soldier’s independence. As Montana begins to build his own cocaine empire, Frank orders a professional hit.

For gangsters, the only good cop is a bad cop, and it is advisable to grease the wheels which move crime. Mel Bernstein (Harris Yulin) demands his take early in the film at the Babylon Club, which has the perfect cocktail napkins for bribery notes. Bernstein was willing to overlook the murders of Rebenga, “Hector the Toad,” and “that bloodbath at the Sun Ray Hotel.” Tony should have taken him at his word when the cop said he could clean up Tony’s Lopez mess.

Before Tony eliminates Frank, he is hungry. The money and drugs are not a distraction. After he begins to accumulate power, he lets his public profile rise and indulges in conspicuous consumption. Montana keeps a chained-up tiger in front of his compound just to let everyone know how powerful he is. There are real life precedents for this. Colombian drug lord Pablo Escobar imported hippos for his private zoo. Brooklyn mobster “Crazy” Joe Gallo kept a pet lion named Cleo in the basement of his headquarters. The scenario was also probably inspired by Miami’s most notorious drug lord, Mario Tabraue, whose predilection for wild cats was featured in the Netflix documentary Tiger King. But the most conspicuous acquisition Montana leveraged cut Frank the deepest.

It’s always a mistake to go after the boss’ girl. James Cagney’s Tommy Powers knew this in The Public Enemy (1931). James Woods’ Maximillian “Max” Bercovicz skirts this in Sergio Leone’s Once Upon a Time in America (1984). Montana sets out to steal Frank’s trophy wife, Elvira Hancock (Michelle Pfeiffer), from the moment he lays eyes on her, though he waits for the height of his reign to claim her. He does it as much to emasculate his former boss as he does it out of desire. It’s a betrayal equal to having Manny whack Frank while he pleads for his life.

The new couple is married by 1983, but with a marriage always on the rock.

Don’t Get High on Your Own Supply

Montana’s downfall is aided, abetted, but most of all mirrored in his descent into addiction. He probably took his first sniff from Elvira’s stash, but even as Montana bemoans, “I got a junkie for a wife,” he doesn’t get wind of his own problem. “Another Quaalude, and she’ll be mine again,” he reasons as the trophy wife climbs off the pedestal and up on a shelf.

Montana is in deep drug denial when Elvira leaves him after he openly complains she can’t have children because she is polluted with the yaya he’s been peddling. He should at least entertain the notion when she openly wonders if he would even be alive to raise their child.

In American Gangster, Denzel Washington’s Frank Lucas knows enough not to dip his nose into the supply. And while Pacino’s slide into the junkie aspects of his character is physically more subtle than Ray Liotta’s bug-eyed Henry Hill in Goodfellas, the results are just as devastating. When Montana was crushing the competition and bagging the Sandman, he had discipline. His mind gets muddled as his drug use spirals out of control. He makes rash decisions, dips into schizoid delusions, and succumbs to white powder paranoia. He can’t see his way through the haze to find alternatives. He walks right into the undercover cop’s money laundering bust.

The drugs dull his instincts. If Tony wasn’t high at the security command center, he would have seen Sosa’s soldiers encroaching his compound over the cameras. He had 10 bodyguards on the property, he could have positioned them defensively. The only thing his ultimate hit man is hiding behind is a pair of killer shades. He never should have been able to sneak behind Montana’s back. Tony also wouldn’t have gotten rid of his most trusted weapon.

Over and Underestimating Little Friends

Tony Montana’s right-hand man would have been the best, first defense against the Sosa attack. What Tony does to Manny Ribera is his worst action. The two are virtually brothers. Their bond goes beyond being partners in crime, it tightened in the “Freedomtown” concentration camp, and solidified in the Miami chainsaw massacre. It is because Manny is Tony’s most trusted soldier that he will never be good enough for Tony’s sister Gina (Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio). Tony’s saving grace is he believes he is doing all this to ensure a better life for his sister. Gina is supposed to represent the innocence he sacrificed, but she is also an unattainable sin.Tony’s mother doesn’t try to separate her children merely because her daughter might be swallowed in the criminal life; she is curbing what she sees as Tony’s unnatural urges. 

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Even if Tony doesn’t see Manny as a rival for his sister’s affections, he still sees him through the eyes of a fellow criminal, and a womanizing one at that. Tony is just like his mother, who rejects him. Tony brands his friend, and ultimately seals his fate with it.

The problem is Ribera wasn’t made to be a gangster. He is a loyal and efficient consigliere and soldier for Tony’s crew, but he would have been happier slapping his name on knockoff designer jeans. Besides the bubbling incestuous tension exacerbated by the coke haze, Tony doesn’t want to see his best friend happier than him, and denies Gina a real chance at the happiness he wants for her.

It’s the one thing Tony can’t buy for her. Gina and Manny fully expect Tony to be thrilled by their marriage. They were going to surprise him with the news. Tony’s incestuous protectiveness speeds his downfall. He murders Manny as a punishment. Gina is shot by Sosa’s men. Montana loses the two most important people in his life, and his inability to control his lusts destroy them all.

“Say Goodnight to the Bad Guy”

The biggest contributory factor in Tony’s downfall is his humanity. In The Godfather, Sonny Corleone advises his brother Michael not to take things too personally in business. When Lopez gives Montana the mission of delivering a bundle of cocaine to Columbian dealers, the rising mobster takes things very personally. The deal goes bad when Montana’s friend Angel Fernandez is murdered with a chainsaw in a scene so aurally graphic (watch it again, there’s no violence shown, only heard), it almost got the film an X rating.

It was allowed in the film in the name of education, Stone pointed to a DEA report which detailed the exact scenario. Tony teaches the Colombians a lesson in humanity. Not content with leaving with the cash and the coke, he kills every single gang member who had anything to do with Angel’s death.

Tony also lets his conscience be his guide when he’s working the GPI on a hit. Faced with serious jail time for his tax evasion arrest, he makes a deal with Sosa, who is also under fire. Montana agrees to fly to New York and assassinate a journalist before he can give a speech on Sosa’s organization. A bomb has been planted in the journalist’s car, and Tony is in charge of tailing until the perfect detonation point. But when Tony arrives on the scene to assassinate the journalist, he notices the man’s wife and children are with him. Montana not only breaks his word, the promise to protect his powerful partner, but he murders Sosa’s right hand man, Alberto, rather than kill the children playing in the back seat.

“I Always Tell The Truth. Even When I Lie.”

Tony Montana may have been the ballsiest and most charismatic of his machismo mob, but he wasn’t the brightest. He acknowledges his intellectual shortcomings, “I come from the gutter,” he admits. “I know that. I got no education, but that’s okay. I know the street.” But he doesn’t read signs. He can’t tell a freeway from a dead end. Frank Lopez may be a blowhard, but his words of wisdom could have been carved in the cement. 

All the concrete Tony brags about has gone to his head, making his skull thicker than Pacino’s accent. Montana is brash and unbending, narcissistically adherent to only his own advice, and his own worst counsel. His anger blinds him, the battery is running low on his foresight, and he’s so flashy his enemies can see him coming from miles away. And he can’t see them when they’re standing close enough to breathe on the back of his neck. 

Final Massacre

Of course the most obvious reason Tony ends up the way does is because he fights off an army by himself. He’s got quite an arsenal, and the coke probably makes it seem like a good idea at the time, but the decision to stay and fight is vastly miscalculated. Even if Tony had survived the last assassination attempt, Sosa’s men would always be hunting for him. It would have been a short hunt. Tony Montana would have died of a heart attack from all that coke he snorted.

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[symphonyofthewrite]

If These Walls Could Talk (Ch5)

Fandom: Castlevania Netflix

Summary: Vampires do not have reflections, and castles do not have hearts. But Dracula is no ordinary vampire, and Castlevania is no ordinary castle. If castles can fight, maybe they can think too.

The series, and Adrian’s childhood, told from the perspective of the castle.

Notes: FYI for anyone who’s been following the story here ( @symphonyofthewrite ) this is currently the most recent chapter!!

A HUGE thank you if you have, by the way!!!! 😘

If you can comment and/or reblog as well that would make my week!!!

Chapter Summary: “You really don’t understand the act of forging. He’s not dead. We make life from death here.” “And you make soldiers for Dracula, which is one reason why he invests so much in you despite your…humanity. …Dracula brought us all here to fight his war, Hector. All the vampires under his reign.” “The war. Not his war.” “…Hector do you think this war is going well?” “We’re hardly losing.” “No, of course not. But it seems chaotic, undirected, as if we were lashing out at humanity without any real plan beyond wild destruction.” “I think wild destruction is what he wants.” * “Are you still my friend?” “Always.” “Then know that you may be alone.”

Chapter 5: “War”

The Castle does not like these guests Dracula has let in.

It knows many of them; has housed a number of them before. But that was before. Before the Life. Before the Light. And it no longer likes the death and the dark. It no longer likes the way these guests squabble, and talk of death and war as if it’s not at their beck and call. It feels like it’s infested with bedbugs, bitten a hundred times in its place of rest, itchy till it can’t fall asleep anymore.

The war room is always the most jittery and loud, housing the war its named after.

They have brought their war with them. The Castle must and will fight Dracula’s war, but only Dracula’s war. Dracula may think they fight his war. But the war they bring is their own, more insidious, having its own branches, trying to choke out its master’s goals. There is descent. Secrets fluttering on silver tongues, like moths in the halls, congregating around any light here. Viruses, lies contaminating its walls. Betrayal against its master, who was gracious enough to invite them in.

Its master wonders to the walls who his friends are—as well he should, for he has so few—and the Castle wishes in its numb state he never let them in. Why couldn’t he have just stayed with his boy, and let the light reach him?

Godbrand’s voice comprises much of the war in the war room; all thirst, and little to no thought. Very much a vampire, the undeath in him attempting to steal the life of everything he comes into contact with. So human; his words comprised of bloodthirst, fists full of fire.

Camilla’s dagger-sharp footsteps in the halls, the towers, like pinpricks, like tiny little bites. A parasite that wriggled into Castlevania’s heart, attempting to make it beat to her duplicitous rhythm. The queen, who walks in stride with the cold, the death, and the dark that took the Castle so long to grow out of the habit of wearing. They are like a loyal shadow at her heels, clawing at the walls. The Castle liked her once, for the same reason it doesn’t like her now.

She challenges Dracula and all the life he ever managed to find.

There are other vampires too—some with names, others toy soldiers—but they are hardly worth mentioning, for there are little more than smoke and noise, mist and shadow.

…Well, maybe the Castle doesn’t dislike everyone.

Castlevania likes Hector. Likes the sound of Hector hammering the death out of things in its dungeon. It may not be the golden life, it may not be warm or tender, and it may make demons for war, but it is life of a sort. The boy is kind and gentle, and he likes dogs, and sunlight.

It is nice to have dogs and cats scampering and yipping in its halls. Hector is right when he says they are far better than people. Dracula never let Adrian get a dog, and this kind of pure, gentle life is the closest thing to sunlight they can get in this night-shrouded place. In the same token, Castlevania wishes it could bottle up the sunlight and bring it down into the dungeon to him.

Castlevania likes Isaac. Very much in fact. Isaac is loyal to its master, and loyalty is a rare commodity in these infested halls. He may be the only who still has it. And that is a kind of life too. The Castle snatches a smile when it sees the two speaking as friends, glad there is, at least, someone left its master can speak to.

It is because the Castle likes Isaac that it doesn’t like the sound of Isaacs whip. Self-discipline isn’t so bad of a thing…but the Castle knows of pain now. The Castle wouldn’t have cared before, but now it knows what little boys who believe in love deserve; it knows that good masters never whip their servants, their children, or their castles. And ‘doesn’t like’ is not merely a preference now, because the sight of Isaac’s blood…it hurts. But Isaac lived too long in the sun, and now he prefers the cold and the dark. And Death has claimed him for its own, just like it claimed its master, wrapped its strings around him, and he will be a living death though he is still alive. He grew up in the sun, now he belongs in a dark place…but the Castle doesn’t want to be that place anymore.

Maybe Castlevania likes them because Dracula likes them. They’re the only creatures in the Castle Dracula likes; the only two who are human.

The only people he’s ever truly liked are at least half human.

Why can’t he see that he doesn’t hate humans? He just hates bloodthirst.

Godbrand grumbles, he questions, and demands for things that don’t belong to him.

Camilla schemes, and denounces them all as less than livestock.

Hector tries to discern the most humane way to put humanity down.

Isaac beats his back bloody, and he tries to be a friend to Dracula after all.

And Dracula sits in his study and doesn’t smile anymore.

He makes the fire as bright as he can, and no matter how bright and warm the fire is—no matter how much the Castle tries to refine all the light Alucard filled the world with into this one room, fill the emptiness, resurrect the death—it can never warm him. He needs to be held. The Castle cannot do that. Only the boy or his mother could. And they are too far now.

The walls watch him, and wait for him to talk to them again. And the walls, for the first time, wonder—(and hate themselves for wondering)—if the word isn’t undead anymore.

Life was once a part of the undeath, hidden in the corners and crevices…but is death a fact of the unlife now?

There are fights, words and fists, like tumors, like cysts. Unlike the humans who once banged on the Castle’s door for vampire blood, Godbrand takes the vampires out to feast on the wine of human veins. Camilla latches her teeth onto Hector and he becomes host to her lies; the sun-and-dog boy taken in by the parasite, and Castlevania would shout at him not to listen, that she doesn’t have his best interests at heart, to listen to its master still…if only it could talk.

Godbrand dies with a whip around his neck and flames in his chest. The brutality dies at the hand of the boy who believes in love. And the Castle wouldn’t have cared before, but now its complicated. It is glad for a little less noise, but the blood and the death make its stones crawl, and it hates to see it all on the hands of a young man who should have been appalled at such an act. Now its sad, sad for Isaac’s sake. Because he’s just a young man, like Adrian.

Castlevania misses the boy, and the days of sunlight. Prays that he will return, with dancing gold at his heels.

They mentioned Alucard, once. In a way Castlevania hasn’t heard his name spoken before. After all those years of his little feet toddling upon its stones, the sun stinging slowly and quietly; they say his name, like it’s a threat. It’s sound causes unease when they were always so sickeningly confident. He is not a threat, an enemy, within the war, but a threat to the war itself. His name could end this war.

And the Room snatches an inkling of air at the sound of his name, tries to cry out, but only croaks a frail war call—a war call against this war. The Room tries to smile through the pain, because if that’s true it reflects him; he stands against the cold, the dark, and the death, like the Room always did.

Castlevania prays he will stop this war, this dark, this death, this hungry emptiness, and he will save his father. But it is losing hope each curtained sunrise.

The Room, breath stolen from its lungs, unable to cry out, waits. The kind of anticipation as when this new life was going to arrive in the first place, but there is no apprehension this time. The Room was not alive, then, and this is a living waiting. It waits with feeble attempts to remove the claw around its throat, breathless cries upon its ever-silent lips. Waits for its master to come home—for its master is not home, and it is not a home without its master.

The Room waits, and without breath things start to become rather funny.

At first it’s Godbrands remarks, then it’s Carmilla’s schemes. Then its Hector’s pets, and Issac’s unyielding loyalty. The death, the darkness, and the cold, cruel injustice of it all. They should make the Room’s walls boil with anger, and at first they did, but now it wants to laugh instead.

Hypoxia, they call it. When, lacking oxygen, everything is just a little too funny.

The Room is hypoxic.

[antihero-writings]

If These Walls Could Talk (Ch5)

Fandom: Castlevania Netflix

Summary: Vampires do not have reflections, and castles do not have hearts. But Dracula is no ordinary vampire, and Castlevania is no ordinary castle. If castles can fight, maybe they can think too.

The series, and Adrian’s childhood, told from the perspective of the castle.

Chapter Summary: “You really don’t understand the act of forging. He’s not dead. We make life from death here.” “And you make soldiers for Dracula, which is one reason why he invests so much in you despite your…humanity. …Dracula brought us all here to fight his war, Hector. All the vampires under his reign.” “The war. Not his war.” “…Hector do you think this war is going well?...It seems chaotic, undirected, as if we were lashing out at humanity without any real plan beyond wild destruction.” “I think wild destruction is what he wants.” * “Are you still my friend?” “Always.” “Then know that you may be alone.”

Chapter 5: "War"

The Castle does not like these guests Dracula has let in.

It knows many of them; has housed a number of them before. But that was before. Before the Life. Before the Light. And it no longer likes the death and the dark. It no longer likes the way these guests squabble, and talk of death and war as if it’s not at their beck and call. It feels like it’s infested with bedbugs, bitten a hundred times in its place of rest, itchy till it can’t fall asleep anymore.

The war room is always the most jittery and loud, housing the war its named after.

They have brought their war with them. The Castle must and will fight Dracula’s war, but only Dracula’s war. Dracula may think they fight his war. But the war they bring is their own, more insidious, having its own branches, trying to choke out its master’s goals. There is descent. Secrets fluttering on silver tongues, like moths in the halls, congregating around any light here. Viruses, lies contaminating its walls. Betrayal against its master, who was gracious enough to invite them in.

Its master wonders to the walls who his friends are—as well he should, for he has so few—and the Castle wishes in its numb state he never let them in. Why couldn’t he have just stayed with his boy, and let the light reach him?

Godbrand’s voice comprises much of the war in the war room; all thirst, and little to no thought. Very much a vampire, the undeath in him attempting to steal the life of everything he comes into contact with. So human; his words comprised of bloodthirst, fists full of fire.

Camilla’s dagger-sharp footsteps in the halls, the towers, like pinpricks, like tiny little bites. A parasite that wriggled into Castlevania’s heart, attempting to make it beat to her duplicitous rhythm. The queen, who walks in stride with the cold, the death, and the dark that took the Castle so long to grow out of the habit of wearing. They are like a loyal shadow at her heels, clawing at the walls. The Castle liked her once, for the same reason it doesn’t like her now.

She challenges Dracula and all the life he ever managed to find.

There are other vampires too—some with names, others toy soldiers—but they are hardly worth mentioning, for there are little more than smoke and noise, mist and shadow.

…Well, maybe the Castle doesn’t dislike everyone.

Castlevania likes Hector. Likes the sound of Hector hammering the death out of things in its dungeon. It may not be the golden life, it may not be warm or tender, and it may make demons for war, but it is life of a sort. The boy is kind and gentle, and he likes dogs, and sunlight.

It is nice to have dogs and cats scampering and yipping in its halls. Hector is right when he says they are far better than people. Dracula never let Adrian get a dog, and this kind of pure, gentle life is the closest thing to sunlight they can get in this night-shrouded place. In the same token, Castlevania wishes it could bottle up the sunlight and bring it down into the dungeon to him.

Castlevania likes Isaac. Very much in fact. Isaac is loyal to its master, and loyalty is a rare commodity in these infested halls. He may be the only who still has it. And that is a kind of life too. The Castle snatches a smile when it sees the two speaking as friends, glad there is, at least, someone left its master can speak to.

It is because the Castle likes Isaac that it doesn’t like the sound of Isaacs whip. Self-discipline isn’t so bad of a thing…but the Castle knows of pain now. The Castle wouldn’t have cared before, but now it knows what little boys who believe in love deserve; it knows that good masters never whip their servants, their children, or their castles. And ‘doesn’t like’ is not merely a preference now, because the sight of Isaac’s blood…it hurts. But Isaac lived too long in the sun, and now he prefers the cold and the dark. And Death has claimed him for its own, just like it claimed its master, wrapped its strings around him, and he will be a living death though he is still alive. He grew up in the sun, now he belongs in a dark place…but the Castle doesn’t want to be that place anymore.

Maybe Castlevania likes them because Dracula likes them. They’re the only creatures in the Castle Dracula likes; the only two who are human.

The only people he’s ever truly liked are at least half human.

Why can’t he see that he doesn’t hate humans? He just hates bloodthirst.

Godbrand grumbles, he questions, and demands for things that don’t belong to him.

Camilla schemes, and denounces them all as less than livestock.

Hector tries to discern the most humane way to put humanity down.

Isaac beats his back bloody, and he tries to be a friend to Dracula after all.

And Dracula sits in his study and doesn’t smile anymore.

He makes the fire as bright as he can, and no matter how bright and warm the fire is—no matter how much the Castle tries to refine all the light Alucard filled the world with into this one room, fill the emptiness, resurrect the death—it can never warm him. He needs to be held. The Castle cannot do that. Only the boy or his mother could. And they are too far now.

The walls watch him, and wait for him to talk to them again. And the walls, for the first time, wonder—(and hate themselves for wondering)—if the word isn’t undead anymore.

Life was once a part of the undeath, hidden in the corners and crevices…but is death a fact of the unlife now?

There are fights, words and fists, like tumors, like cysts. Unlike the humans who once banged on the Castle’s door for vampire blood, Godbrand takes the vampires out to feast on the wine of human veins. Camilla latches her teeth onto Hector and he becomes host to her lies; the sun-and-dog boy taken in by the parasite, and Castlevania would shout at him not to listen, that she doesn’t have his best interests at heart, to listen to its master still…if only it could talk.

Godbrand dies with a whip around his neck and flames in his chest. The brutality dies at the hand of the boy who believes in love. And the Castle wouldn’t have cared before, but now its complicated. It is glad for a little less noise, but the blood and the death make its stones crawl, and it hates to see it all on the hands of a young man who should have been appalled at such an act. Now its sad, sad for Isaac’s sake. Because he’s just a young man, like Adrian.

Castlevania misses the boy, and the days of sunlight. Prays that he will return, with dancing gold at his heels.

They mentioned Alucard, once. In a way Castlevania hasn’t heard his name spoken before. After all those years of his little feet toddling upon its stones, the sun stinging slowly and quietly; they say his name, like it’s a threat. It’s sound causes unease when they were always so sickeningly confident. He is not a threat, an enemy, within the war, but a threat to the war itself. His name could end this war.

And the Room snatches an inkling of air at the sound of his name, tries to cry out, but only croaks a frail war call—a war call against this war. The Room tries to smile through the pain, because if that’s true it reflects him; he stands against the cold, the dark, and the death, like the Room always did.

Castlevania prays he will stop this war, this dark, this death, this hungry emptiness, and he will save his father. But it is losing hope each curtained sunrise.

The Room, breath stolen from its lungs, unable to cry out, waits. The kind of anticipation as when this new life was going to arrive in the first place, but there is no apprehension this time. The Room was not alive, then, and this is a living waiting. It waits with feeble attempts to remove the claw around its throat, breathless cries upon its ever-silent lips. Waits for its master to come home—for its master is not home, and it is not a home without its master.

The Room waits, and without breath things start to become rather funny.

At first it’s Godbrands remarks, then it’s Carmilla’s schemes. Then its Hector’s pets, and Issac’s unyielding loyalty. The death, the darkness, and the cold, cruel injustice of it all. They should make the Room’s walls boil with anger, and at first they did, but now it wants to laugh instead.

Hypoxia, they call it. When, lacking oxygen, everything is just a little too funny.

The Room is hypoxic.