#i still like to follow the fictional lore that he was the first vampire

[bluecoolr]

As a vampire hunter, Darrell used to carry a big bulky case containing all his hunting tools.

When he got turned into a vampire, he couldn't stand to look or touch his own hunting case (very big holy glare: splitting headache. the holy water starts to bubble and boil when his hand hovers over it). The tools of his trade were his own weakness now, so he got rid of them.

He is, however, able to weild an Ottoman kilij or sword. Late 15th century in particular. Why? The very first vampire died by the blade of a Turkish assassin, and the only way to truly kill a vampire is to strike its heart and cut off its head.

[Various kilij on display in Germany and Greece.]

I like to think Darrell tried to track down that very sword but it was ultimately lost.

[salubriwrites-blog]

A Weird Dive into my favorite ships

This started as an answer to an anonymous question but... it grew a little bit. I have no forward except to please drink water today! Love you!!!!

I'm actually pretty new still to writing fanfiction. I've been an avid writer since I was 10 and was even working on getting my own book published. From there I springboarded into TTRPG design where I wrote world building, lore, and characters for IPs like Call of Cthulhu and Vampire: The Masquerade. I only really just got into writing *fan fiction* in the last 2 years.

My first fanfic/ship was actually pretty silly. I was on the Encanto hype train when that movie first came out (can you believe its been 3 years???) and I loved, loved, loved Bruno Madrigal. He was the traumatized, distraught uncle living in the walls of Casita trying to fix the internal damage that came from Abuela's treatment of La Familia. His intentions were pure, and he obviously had gone through a lot to drive him to the point where we see him in the story. This was the first branch I would hit falling down the "I can fix them" tree.

The story is cute and has a happy ending, but as we all know in the real world, unlearning toxic behavior and overcoming life long trauma takes time. So I wrote a BrunoxOC story about it. I ended up orphaning it because I veered the story off in a direction I didn't like because the group I was part of were heavily influencing my creative choices. Boo, hiss I know, but I was still pretty new within the fanfiction genre so I buckled.

Moving on!

My second fiction that I put a lot more love into - sorta I may go back and rewrite parts of it now - was my YorickxOC fiction.

Yorick was my first ever League of Legends love. Fucking love that haunted beef cake. The Ruined Event did him dirty, the Ruined King Game did him dirty, and the book probably did him dirty too (I haven't read it). My Gravekeeper needs ALL THE LOVE because he is absolutely going through it in sheer solitude (though the Illaoi story where he goes to help destroy Viego's amulet gave me hope that now he gets visitors sometime on the island).

Remember Yorick Mori: Before the Ruination This was my first completed and quite hefty fiction weighing in at 153k words: it followed his story where he starts out on a lonely little fishing island called Portia (it doesn't have a name in Lore). He ends up on a slightly busier island that is situated off the coast of Helia (Blessed Isles capitol) and begins his journey to understand why he can communicate with the Dead. He meets a cast of charming monks that want to both see him thrive and maintain status quo. He even meets the owner of the bakery that barters with the Order of Dusk - whom he naturally falls in love with immediately. Rosalie McKahn is not a self insert. I don't make self inserts when I write OCs because I hold myself to a weird standard - also I don't see myself being compatible with most of these characters. Would I still like them to do unspeakable things to me? Oh shit yes. But from a story standpoint, I don't do self inserts. So Rosalie was not one of those. The story follows a young Yorick through his years of servitude to the Order of Dusk, uncovering dark secrets, finding confidence to become the man that he will need to be when the Ruination comes. Rosalie was not the only person who helped to build Yorick up in this story, but their love is what gives him the strength to keep fighting when the rest of it was bleak. This love eventually passes on to the Maiden of the Mist in the epilogue I have yet to write ^^;.

Then we got into the Heartsteel arc, and this was where I really found my love for the "I can fix them" dynamics. I have no shame in saying that I wrote all of "Making of Paranoia: Off Script" in a week's time while the music video played on a loop on my second monitor. I'm just not. That was where the neurons wanted me to go, and off I fucking went. I knew I liked Aphelios when he first debuted in League, but I was scared of him because he's an ADC with 5 guns. Skill Expression was not something I was confident enough in to pursue that character. But he was hot! He ha a backstory that excited me and had a lot of potential. I really wanted to explore Aphelios' dynamic with his sister and the Lunari elders - pigeon holing him into being a weapon of faith only.

I also knew I liked Yone, but was fearful of him for similar reasons. In the end I just nutted up, typed /mute all in game chat, and hit my head against the wall until I got M7 on Yone. His story is by far my favorite of all the League characters (rivaling Yorick's, of course). A man who spent his whole, short life trying to save someone who he thought was in danger of falling off the path of virtue? Only to come back and KEEP DOING IT but with extra steps??? WAITER ANOTHER PLEASE.

But I didn't really anticipate putting these two characters together within the canon sense. I didn't see a way that they could meet (though one of my friends has since written a beautiful fiction where it shows how they do meet, and how they do connect! https://archiveofourown.org/works/52384363/chapters/132517315 )

BUT THEN. BUT THEEEEN.

I was watching Paranoia for the 69th time that day and I saw THIS VERY SPECIFIC CLIP where the only person who looked the most remote bit of concern for Aphelios' well being was YONE. Boom, Off Script was born.

Off Script was definitely the first FanFiction where I really jumped into my current dynamic. It follows after the filming of that day, cut short after Aphelios fell into a water tank with one of the drones. Yone is going to check on him, and Aphelios is lamenting that no one else has come to see if he's alright. Not even his boyfriend, Sett.

This infuriates Yone because that's just not good boyfriend behavior, and he promises Aphelios that - should he be given the chance - Yone would treat him 10x better than Sett has, is, or ever will.

Also who wouldn't want to be treated like a princess by this specimen? Let's not fool ourselves. Anyway - Paranoia gave me a chance to explore this dynamic in a new way. Yone had issues of his own - I had to find a way to implement his Arzakana nature into a modern AU so I opted for "intrusive thoughts" that encouraged him to do some generally not nice things. In Yone's backstory he was a toxic person, used people up, whored his way through most of his opportunities, and was a bad brother to Yasuo. Yone initially followed Yasuo into the music making industry because he wanted to help his baby brother succeed - and he didn't really know what he wanted to do with his own life. Yone then got it into his head that maybe he and his brother could make music TOGETHER. Yasuo didn't want that because True Damage was doing it's own thing and - for just once in his life - he wanted something that only he had made, not with his older brother. Yone takes his poorly, and being the toxic brother that he is, makes a scene at an industry party and gets booted out. Yasuo cuts him out of his life. On his drunken, staggering tirade through the streets of Valoran City, Yone gets into an accident. He dies. But then suddenly gets resuscitated! I'm not a doctor so I just literally chalk it up to a freak accident that Yone comes back. While Yone believes that it's a second chance. He wakes up in the coroner's office in a cooler, and bangs and screams at the door the whole night until the coroner ME comes in the next morning to fetch the John Doe. Yone doesn't know who he is anymore, but he knows he can't be the asshole now cause that's what got him killed. So he spends time reflecting, soul searching. He knows he still loves making music, and though he gets a desk job and lives this semi-stable life, he still dreams of making music.

Enter Heartsteel.

Aphelios' twin sister is already a multi-platinum artist who runs her own record label - Lunari Studios. Aphelios is on the other side of the story - he's just kind of following Alune around and standing back as she shines. He knows he's talented - he knows a million instruments and helps Alune with her production, but he doesn't think that he could do it all by himself. When he and Sett start dating, it's more of the same. Sett is big and loud, people are drawn to him and his style, and it gives Aphelios someone to latch onto that isn't his sister for once. In Off Script, Aphelios' fate would have been the silent lyricist and musician for the band. He would have told himself that he was happy with standing back.

Except after the events of the music video, Yone won't let him. Yone encourages him to sing, to write bolder lyrics, to voice his opinion. Yone helps Aphelios find confidence, and in return Aphelios lets Yone help him. All Yone really ever wants in any AU is to help, but helpful people can be toxic too. Aphelios allows Yone to do that, but with his own confidence can help draw boundaries on when Yone is being too supportive, or investing too much of his own energy. In the Heartsteel AU I wrote, they are happy together ^^

I finished Off Script around the time of Worlds 2023. Which was when they announced my Babygirl!

And boy what a journey THIS CHARACTER HAS BEEN.

Hwei has it all. The trauma, the growth, the setbacks, the hips, the style, the potential. Surprisingly though - I am not a huge fan of the JhinHwei ship. Maybe cause I see too much of myself and who I used to be in its dynamic. I've been both of those characters in my past relationships, but this isn't the place for that kind of deep dive.

Hwei is neat because he introduced a new idea to my ship dynamic. He's not broken, just lost. He's looking for himself and every person he meets is just a stepping stone on his journey to peace of mind.

I wouldn't call Hwei self assured, because he doesn't know who he wants or what he wants to be, but he knows he has all the tools to reach that end. I like shipping him with multiple characters with Hwei in different stages of his self-realization because he is an inspiring character. He can terrify and and awe in the same breath, depending on which version of him we're visiting.

For this last one we're departing League completely.

I got into HSR after Genshin got a little stale for me. Also I got a fancy new phone that I could actually play Hoyo games on, and HSR is the best for mobile play.

I got into HSR in the middle of the Penacony story, but my friends warned me that I'd love Aventurine when I met him. I spoiled myself by looking at pictures of him and OOH BABY

You can fit so much trauma in this baby.

Aventurine is another fun one because yes - he has a tragic fucking story and I would single handedly help him repopulate Sigonia if given the opportunity. But once again, Teeeechnically not broken.?? He has ghosts he faces throughout the story, and must address each aspect of himself before crossing the river, but by the time he's come out, I like to think he's at peace with who he had to become in order to survive. From fighting in pits, murdering his former owner, tricking the IPC, I don't think Kakavasha would have done any of that stuff. Aventurine, on the other hand-

It's a common theme when you are in survival mode because of trauma. Is he fully cured? Fuck no, but will he continue to strive to be the kind of person he wished would have saved him when he was a kid? Fuck yes.

Which is why we need to impregnate him.

My friends warned me I'd love Blade. I was determined to not, but then I went through the Jingliu story and learned about the High Cloud Quintet and it was over.

I just think this guy's hot. I know a lot of people ship him with Dan Feng and Jing Yuan (it's pretty hot, ngl), but I kinda like Blade/Kafka or Blade/Stelle. The Kafka angle is not so much romantic as it is a mutual understanding that they are both going down this journey together and it can get lonely sometime. So more convenience than romance.

I'm working on a Blade/Stelle story right now where - Best I Am, Prey You Become. It explores Stelle abandoning the trailblaze to join the Stellaron Hunters, and as part of her initiation Blade if voluntold by Kafka to train her. Their relationship is mentor/student and she is obviously hot for him, but Blade is an immortal, tired old man who doesn't have time for that. Except Elio has other plans, as Blade's script reaches a conclusion - he finds something worth dying for. When it comes to HSR Fanfictions I take a lot more creative liberty because I didn't follow the lore to the letter. Also I love world building so!!!! I also built Sigonia-IV for that story, I just gotta get the neurons to activate x.x

[cto10121]

Twilight Clown Takes Special Edition—Bella and Edward Would Be Divorced By Now & Other Projections

In which the Twilight anti fandom cheerfully throws canon and even their beloved lore out the window for this increasingly deranged fanon, in part born from the dumbass movie canon. Here we go, om nom nom

Edward only “killed the vibe” when he thought he hurt Bella. He was literally upset that he gave her bruises and thought that Bella was putting up a brave face. 😭 If anything, it’s such a green flag it hurts.

Also, while Edward is dramatic, so is Bella. They both are! Bella is just more chill as a default.

Tell me you’ve only read the first 50 pages of Midnight Sun without telling me you only read the first 50 pages of Midnight Sun.

Edward being unable to read Bella’s mind is just like his reaction to Bella’s scent—it is a hook, a fictional contrivance to make him want to spend more time with her.

Once he does, though, he sticks around. Why? Because he likes Bella personally. She is quirky, self-possessed, quick-witted, winsome, and pretty tough and brave—the exact qualities you need to be able to handle vampires. She is also self-negating with self-esteem issues, which Edward admires and relates to, since he is self-negating with self-esteem issues too. Birds of a feather, etc.

Edward doesn’t know that Bella is like all the other girls even though he 1) asks a million questions about her likes and interests, 2) she tells him to his face that she is “absolutely ordinary,” and 3) er, stalks her.

You would think homeboy would get a clue about what kind of girl Bella is by now, especially from 3).

Visits her mom, oh God, these clowns are really not beating the lack of reading comprehension skills allegations. No thoughts, head empty.

I think it’s safe to say Bella would never return to Renée and Arizona. As much as she loves the city and the landscape, it is the site of her parentification, which Bella at some deep subconscious level recognizes and resents. Forks, bad weather and all, was when she really found her people, not to mention her love. And now that she is a vampire, the cold isn’t even a problem anymore.

Also, the fact that Bella blithely rationalizes away keeping Renée in the dark while keeping Charlie in the loop speaks volumes.

That’s right! Bella and Edward would never work out because they don’t have anything in common. I even made a whole list on how little they have in common, it’s astounding!

“Treats Resume awful” Source, please. Even in the dumbass movies Edward and Renesmee had a really lovely rapport with each other. It was one of the few moments Rob Pattinson did look like he was enjoying himself.

Bella “I have too much Charlie in me” Swan, going full Renee? It’s less likely than you think. Why do these clowns always have to stan Renee, the woman who literally made her child pay the bills?????

Also, “a woman who followed her own desires”…that is literally Bella with regards to Edward. She was the one who 100% on Edward’s icy D train while homeboy was still flailing over being Hades to her Persephone. She was the one who wanted to experience sex with Edward while still human even though he could have squished her like a bug.

It’s literally why I love this bitch (complimentary) to begin with. I admire that kind of NFG (No Fucks Given) in fictional characters. Characters that march to the beat of their own drum.

The Twilight fandom is really not beating the allegations.

Anyway, YMMV, but I’ve never read a more hetero bitch than Bella in my life, and I grew up on bodice rippers and telenovelas. Kristen Stewart’s Bella is not and will never be canon, so her sapphic vibes don’t count.

Tell me you’ve only seen the movies without telling me—

[vampire-sugar]

Again, this blog is going to be about my experience reading QOTD, but wanted to just list out some of my thoughts on the first couple books! (No real analysis just writing how I felt about them). My previous post was about IWTV, and now here are some of my thoughts on The Vampire Lestat!!

Spoilers ahead. (Tw: mentions of incest and grooming)

The Vampire Lestat (1985)

Big change of tone, lol. I enjoyed Lestat's narration, even if it was a bit ridiculous at first and so different from IWTV. But he's funny! Like when he talks about how much he likes the 80s:

LOL.

And of course it was rock music that rose him from his slumber. So camp.

I really enjoyed getting some Lestat lore, and vampire lore in general. Loved getting to see mortal Lestat. His relationship with his mother is definitely something. Gabrielle is described as someone who doesn’t talk just to talk, and everything she says is definitely interesting. I like how she so succinctly describes Lestat's personality/character:

"You're such a fighter, my son. You never accept."

And then when she tells Lestat "You are the man in me." Wow. Feel like that describes exactly what her relationship to Lestat is as well as her relationship with gender etc, idk. Just liked that line. And then of course the relationship later becomes romantic, although it did feel like it was building up to it as opposed to like the horrific realization that I got in IWTV of Louis and Claudia. This one I saw coming but it was just very tragic.

Everything about Nicki was devastating he really was going through it. The lines where Lestat is describing him/their moments together were very romantic though. When Lestat tells him "(...) light and beauty come together in you in a thousand different patterns." And later, after Lestat is turned, "You are light itself, and what am I now? Eternal as I am, I curl like a cinder in that blaze." So cheesy I know but it really got me.

Ugh, when they are having "their conversation", and Lestat is going on about how what they do (acting, playing violin) feels good and makes others feel good, so it must be good, and Nicki responds with "Lestat, sin always feels good.” Shoot me now. Anyway, RIP Nicki you will be missed.

We got some Armand lore! I finally understand the Armand/Lestat beef that is always mentioned online lol. And also, fuck Marius, seriously. Like from the bottom of my heart. I feel like we’re supposed to read Marius’s actions as having saved Armand, when really he could have busted him out of the cell he was in and killed his enslavers and have just been his mentor. Instead, Marius paid the slavers money to buy Armand and then groomed him. Not only is he horrible, he is also very boring which is actually the worst thing you could be as a fictional character. Like the second I got to Marius's Story I checked how much I had left of his lore and I gasped at how much there still was like why was he talking for so long? Also of course you get some of Anne's racist rhetoric seeping through via Marius. It’s stuff like this that makes it so hard to read or take seriously when the immortals start philosophizing about good and evil like you just went on a rant about how people in the East are actually bottom of the barrel evil while the Westerners were more civilized or whatever idk man. Again have no clue why Marius spoke for as long as he did.

Cute vampire reunion in the end. Got treated to a vampire concert which was nice although I feel like Lestat could have gotten a little more creative with the lyrics lol. Overall I enjoyed it, I think Lestat is a fun narrator and loved all the lore and character backstories.

These were some of my unorganized thoughts of TVL, my next post will be about QOTD! I’m almost done reading the first part and from then on will probably post chapter by chapter. Feel free to follow if you wanna read along with me!

Bonus quote:

ijbol

[normal-abbey]

Demonic ages in Lazarus

PSA this is taken from my fanfic notes: I have an HC (that i took great liberty with, and that is based specifically off of a in-game scene where Lucifer complains/makes mention of being "in his millions" or "over ten million years old"-I don't entirely remember the phrasing) that He (going based off of both traditional religious and Media-based lore) is/was not only the second oldest of the archangels, but is also one of the older beings down in the devildom.  And that Barb is still, like, considerably older. I, personally, hc that Lucifer is around 500 million or so, with Simeon not an inconsiderable measure behind him at maybe 95 mil, and Diavolo at around 50Mil. I'm basing this lowkey off of prehistoric periods, utilizing both the "creation" theory and evolution because of the supernatural elements of OM. In my HC, the Devildom, earth, and heaven have been around for similar periods of time, and the concept of angels are slightly (several million years) older than the first living creatures on earth. This makes the first of the archangels specifically SOME of the first "created beings" within my personal lore, having been created several billion years after God decided he wanted company. I know these ages seem a bit absurd, but I'm lowkey edging toward a slightly eldritch vibe with angels/demons, and this helps with that. If it's too goofy/incomprehensible to you, feel free to picture them as silly lil' guys who are only, like, really old vampire levels of old, though it will be harder to ignore as chapters march onward in the fic. As for the content of my hc, this is what I imagined (Disclaimer: this is fiction, and only loosely based on religious lore, so this is not theologically accurate): firstly, Michael is the oldest of the "warrior class" of angels, and the oldest archangel. But, in Lazarus lore, God had three angels that he originally created that were made solely to worship/serve him--created to sit at his feet and sing songs in adoration. They're based off of the Biblical principals of "faith, hope, and love." I also HC they were the first to fall, and that God created his warrior (Michael) to cast them out, before creating Michael's brothers. Those three are the original demons in my fic, one of which is Dia's great (x10) grandfather. I may do a side fic in this series about it at some point. I'm debating calling them either The Three, or The Three Virtues. Anyway, the first four Archangels are younger, though not much by supernatural/heavenly standards. But the archangels were created as warriors to guard heaven and earth from the fallen, and eventually bring messages of warning and/or comfort to humanity. The original archangels ages are as follows (and these are not exact because I am not writing that many numbers down while being this tired): Michael: 1Bil, oldest. Lucifer: 500Mil, 2nd oldest archangel specifically. Raphael (yes that one): 250Mil, 2nd youngest. Gabriel: 100Mil, youngest. Barbatos is (considerably) older than Lucifer....So yeah. Just keep that in mind. Side note: Lucifer was loyal for an incredibly long time, which is what made his fall so devastating. He fell, as is canon in OM (though exact dates weren’t given), sometime after humanity gained life/sentience. Think of it like a combo of creation and evolution: Their “Father” created the world and life, but it evolved as IRL science has determined. 

[songofthesibyl]

“Even for an immortal, there was not enough time in life to waste it on hatred. On feeling it and putting it into the world.”

—Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

So, no one cares what I think, my blog has no reach, but I just wanted to talk about social media, and fandoms, and the A Court of Thorns and Roses series.

I read the series last year, because I wanted to read a contemporary fantasy novel that dealt with faerie lore, and this series had 4 1/2 stars on amazon and was continually in print for a number of years, so I was intrigued and decided to give it a try. I don’t have tiktok and don’t follow book accounts on social media.

I loved the faerie lore in the first book, but made the mistake of looking up fan art, and the direction of the series was spoiled for me. While I enjoyed the series, and read the original trilogy fairly quickly, there were parts that bothered me, or that didn’t make sense—largely because of the majority fan interpretation that didn’t match how I experienced the series. I definitely got Twilight, Buffy, and Vampire Diaries vibes. For me, it was clearly in the dark fantasy genre, and the insertion of real world values didn’t quite make sense to me the way it was done. 

So, it was nice to find comments in reviews that felt the same. On here, and elsewhere. I was very isolated at the time, and this was a way to find a community. I was part of a fandom for the first time, writing fanfic for the first time. 

But this other side—I don’t mean pro- or anti-, I mean that really nasty, bullying, bizarre side of the fandom—became more and more prominent. I just never usually inserted myself in it.

This is social media. This is internet comments. This is human nature to bully and pick on others while sitting on the toilet at work. It’s nothing new.

But it bothers me. It’s always bothered me that people take time out of their days to be like this. And I get why the majority of it is done—boredom, fun, a distraction. But it still bothers me.

And because this series tackles such serious subjects as sexual assault, trauma, mental health, abuse—those throwaway, bullying, trolling comments take on a very disturbing tone.

If you disagree there are the usual epithets; using the need to seek therapy as an insult, attacking someone’s looks, family—even if no pictures or info are known. Telling people to kill themselves.

But because of the insertion of an abuse/DV “very special episode” aspect to the story, the comments become specifically about abuse—so if you feel a certain way about a fictional character, you are an “abuse apologist,” or want to be abused.

The other day, someone I know was arguing in a post on Instagram by a couple’s book account, with thousands of followers. The post was about Tamlin, the linchpin of the bizarre nature of this fandom. She disagreed with the post, liked the character more than they did. She argued using points from the book, but they fundamentally disagreed—fine. This person can handle themselves. But the other person said something in their discussion that I’ve seen before, that bothers me:

“I hope you find your Tamlin in the world.”

The person who said this dislikes the character. It was meant as a passive-aggressive, dismissive comment. You think he’s so great, I hope you find a person that is horrible and abusive in real life.

And it bothered me, and I knew it wasn’t worth it, but I just didn’t want to let it go this time. This person was an adult, not an adolescent. So I said it bothered me, that I had seen that comment before and I didn’t like its implications. I waited for a response—and saw that I was blocked. I made no accusations, said nothing personal about them—just that, just because one disagrees about a fictional character in a fantasy world doesn’t mean they want an unstable, abusive partner in real life. That comments like that bothered me. (Probably more than the person I was defending.) But it bothered me. And I got blocked, for the first time.

And that bothered me even more. Did they think they were being attacked? I don’t know. But the comment is probably still there, and unchallenged, and they’ll say it again, as so many others have. And that’s the way fandoms are. But it bothers me. It bothers me that, after dipping my toes into a fandom for the first time, into being social, this is what it all leads to. And it’s not even exceptional. This is how it always is.

And, despite some frustrations, I enjoyed the books, or I wouldn’t have kept reading them. And it made me want to reach out, and be social, when I hadn’t for a long time. But this part will always make me extremely anxious, and it’s exhausting, and it’s disheartening when this is what it all leads to. That books that speak about not spreading hate can lead to such nasty, disturbing, bullying behavior. It’s not fun. And I don’t really want to be a part of it anymore.

[bookaddict24-7]

REVIEWS OF THE WEEK!

Books I've Read So Far in 2023!

Friend me on Goodreads here to follow my more up to date reading journey for the year!

___

82. Lost in Time by A.G. Riddle--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I remember randomly coming across this book while at work and I'll admit, it was the cover that pulled me in, the synopsis was just a great bonus.

One of the things I loved about this book, other than the speculative edge, was the amount of twists this had. I always thought I knew where it was heading, but there was always a twist to counter any theories I had. There was so much potential in this world where time travel existed and I'll be honest, it felt like the author took that to its full potential. This was fun, adventurous, sometimes a little terrifying, and a whole lot of addicting. It's such a clever novel and I really want to read Riddle's other books to see if he uses this same level of intrigue in his other works.

LOST IN TIME also made me think of some of my favourites, and I think that definitely added to my enjoyment of this novel. On one hand, it gave me similar vibes as DARK MATTER by Blake Crouch, and on the other, it made me think a bit of Stephen King's 11/22/63. It's one of those books that you encounter only a few times and end up trying to re-experience for the first time whenever you pick up new sci-fi speculative fiction novels.

The main reason why I'm not giving this full stars is because while beneficial to the story, the back and forth kind of interrupted certain aspects and moods of the novel. I would be really into a scene and then boom, new chapter set in a different place and time. I wanted more of one place than the other and feel like the story would have benefitted from further exploration of the place one of the MCs goes to during the first half of the novel.

All of that being said, however, I really and truly enjoyed this book. I want to read more from this author!

___

83. Vampire Breath by R.L. Stine--⭐️⭐️

I wasn't the biggest fan of this one. It was probably one of my least favourite GOOSEBUMPS books, but that ending was very on brand, so as cheesy as it was, I enjoyed it!

I can see why this would be a fun one, though, if I was younger. I know I'm not the audience for this and usually I'm able to separate my age from these stories, but this one was not...an enjoyable one for me. It was kind of forgettable, to be honest.

Anyway, onto the next GOOSEBUMPS!

___

84. I Am Number 4 by Pittacus Lore--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Re-Read May 2023:

I don't know why, but I was wanting to re-read this book and maybe read the rest of the series. I remember really enjoying this and I won't lie, I totally still enjoyed this. There were a lot of things I forgot about, but I especially enjoyed (read: eye twitched through) the scenes where the mc was like "I'm an adult!" while being a 16 year old putting himself and his pseudo-father in danger.

This may not be a perfect book, but this is a great example of how much teenagers want to be grown. I remember being that age and thinking I knew everything. That invincibility complex hit hard here and being able to see it from this perspective nearly ten years later is very eye opening.

I'm excited to read the rest of this series to see how he grows!

___

85. The Melancholy of Summer by Louisa Onomé--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I received a copy via the publisher because I was the panel host for an event with the author. This did not affect my review at all.

THE MELANCHOLY OF SUMMER was such an emotionally explosive read that it took me a couple of tries to finally allow myself to fall fully into the Onomé's writing.

Set in the beautifully described City of Toronto, we follow Summer, the MC, as she tries to survive and find the freedom she is so desperately seeking in a city that is actively hunting for her criminal parents.

The author did a fantastic job of showcasing how difficult it is to both acknowledge and deal with emotions at such a young age, especially as a young woman of colour. I think how the author treats this topic may resonate with readers because we're taught to control our emotions, or to "be strong" in the face of adversity, but as Summer grows and finally starts to process her trauma, we see that feeling those emotions can also be incredibly therapeutic.

Summer's relationship with her cousin, Olu, could also be seen as an incredibly healing one because they both have trauma to work through. I loved that Olu was this incredible support system that Summer didn't know she had. Watching Summer thaw towards her cousin was such a beautiful moment, especially after the heartbreaking climax of the story.

I highly recommend this book for those who want characters who have to deal with complex emotions, depictions of travel through Toronto, and Japanese Pop Stars.

___

86. Sigh, Gone by Phuc Tran--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

One of the great disservices I did to myself was starting the audiobook for this amazing memoir when I was on the cusp of a reading slump. I read about 40% of this book and then kept putting it off, until I told myself it was time to either DNF it or keep going.

I'm so glad I kept going!

And that is where the star is lost (if I had been in a better head space to read this, maybe it would have been a five star read, but alas.) But even though this doesn't get a perfect rating from me, I really and truly enjoyed this memoir.

I enjoyed reading about Tran's experiences in high school as he came into his own and eventually found his footing in his life. His writing pulled me in and I could see him experiencing so many things that made his life all that more fascinating, if not a incredibly heartbreaking thanks to his complicated and abusive relationship with his father and the racist and discriminatory relationship he had with the people and society around him while growing up.

Tran did a great job of not only sharing how music formed who he is today, but also how his understanding of the space he inhabits in this world is one that will always challenge the people around him who want him to stay "where he belongs". There was a particular scene where he is riding high on his successes, but a racist punches him down. It's a sad situation that can be seen even in today's society, especially social media.

One of the reasons why I also really enjoy memoirs like this is because of the immigrant experience, and the tokenism of living as a person who physically looks different and comes from a different place than the people around you. In these recollections, I can see the younger me trying to survive the halls of schools full of people who don't look like me, speaking two languages when everyone else normalizes using one. And speaking of languages: what happens to Tran in this with his first language was one of the great fears of my parents--but it is also a literal representation of how some immigrant families want their children to be a part of their new and "better" society so much, that something like a language is an okay sacrifice.

I've been lucky that most of the immigrant memoirs and autobiographies I've read have been so poignant and incredible. I'm very happy to add SIGH, GONE to that list of memoirs that I will happily recommend to my customers!

___

87. The Lie Maker by Linwood Barclay--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

While this isn't my first Linwood Barclay book, it's the first one I've read in a long time. I had forgotten how twisty and complex his mysteries and thrillers could get. I won't lie, reading this made me want to read more of his backlist titles.

THE LIE MAKER was a fun and interesting read that followed a handful of characters as their lives intertwined in the most dangerous of ways. At the heart of it all was a father who made some pretty horrible choices, and a son who just wanted his father back again. While the dangers and deaths happen around them, you can't help but root for these two characters to find some sort of peace together again. It's most likely because of that heart wrenching prologue, or because the MC never gave up on his father throughout the whole book.

I did like seeing the chapters were Evil™️ was taking place because you knew something was going to happen, but you didn't know HOW it was going to happen. The twists the filled the book and the big reveal were slowly shown to us until we had an aha! moment.

I enjoyed this book for what it was. Was it a work of art, or an especially memorable read? No, but it was entertaining af and I think it'll be a great read for those wanting a thriller for their summer reading list!

___

Have you read any of these books? Let me know!

___

Happy reading!

[ncitygirls]

eternal - jaemin x f reader

fluff, smut, vampire!jaemin, 2.2k

he had yet to utter a word since his confession, and neither had you, though you had tried piecing together a worthy response. he simply watched you as you watched him, your eyes focusing on each delicate ridge in his skin, admiring his nonexistent pores; how the thin slithers of light that broke through the poorly drawn curtain, shone on a bend from the ends of his bangs down and around his chin. a kind reminder of what you swear you have always known, but regret to have never questioned.

“jaemin?”

“my love?”

“have you always been this beautiful?’

he had to admit he was taken back. those are the first words you have said in a long while. they are your first words since he told you three minutes and twenty-five seconds ago - he was counting, not actively, but over time his mind has created room for his thinking to expand, to surpass humanity’s understanding of thought, and most times he welcomes it. but not at times such as these - where he knows he told you three minutes and twenty-five seconds ago, and your first words are in awe of him.

“i told you i am undead.. and that is what troubles you?”

“your beauty is far from troubling,” you retort, eyes still inspecting his face. jaemin’s mind wanders back to when he once pitied humans. how they thought what they saw was really seeing. victims of an already limited life, the human eye is only able to pick up a fraction of their sublime reality. yet the way your eyes traverse each of his features, as if to commit them to memory, he surely found a compelling reason to admit their eyes were not so lacking. “was it the bite that made you so handsome?”

“i wasn’t bitten,” he corrects, as the pads of your thumbs sweep over his cold knuckles, your touch casting a reverence over the scene. he lets out a pretty laugh at your assumption, the soft crease between your brows forming as he destroys your fictional understanding of his kind. “humans have always had a skewed understanding of our lore.”

“so your mother and father were vampires?”

“no.” it has been some time since he has had to explain vampiric lore to a human, but his mind retains his memory of it all the same. “it is not dissimilar to what humans call possession? or a spell? it is a combination of the two.”

“did it hurt?”

jaemin cannot help but melt at the notes of concern lacing your tone. it is his turn to pass his thumb along your knuckles before flipping your hand over, letting his finger trace a swirl in your palm, offering a soft shake of his head. “it makes one feel queasy, a consequence of the change in dietary needs.”

your hand stiffens beneath his touch as your eyes drop to examine them. he fears he has spoken out of turn, pushed the astonishingly pleasant conversation down a dark hole. jaemin once believed humans to be predictable, but you continue to challenge that. “is that why my invites to have you for dinner always go unanswered?”

“i knew that wounded you, angel.”

“it did no such thing!” his chin drops, eyes boring into you in a successful attempt to lure the truth out of you. he immediately softens when you exhale, in defeat of his gaze or distaste at your transparency, he does not know. jaemin would soften all the same. “i will admit, i did make assumptions to make sense of your refusal.”

“did you think i preferred not to visit?” you had never noticed the flecks of red in the perimeter of his irises until now. they glowed slightly, as if enraged, though you know not with you. “there are rules we must follow when entering a new space, silly, unchangable rules.” his frown deepens when you nod, always understanding even when you shouldn’t. “i apologise if I hurt you, angel.”

“hush now, you need not apologise.” you’re proven right when his eyes return to the perfect colour you remember them for: a golden swirl moving within the rich cocoa, shining only as the light hits it. relief floods him when he rests his forehead on your own. he grips your hips firmly, swaying you both as you call for him.

“jaemin, what is it you do eat?”

“pretty girls named y/n.” oh how he wished you would have laughed then, instead of him opening his eyes to find your horror stricken face. “i swear to you that was a joke. that was in poor taste, i am so sorry.” you find his apology hard to believe as his body shakes, shaking your whole frame along with him.

“do not,” you hit his arm once, “mock,” and a second time though ineffective, “me!”

he saves himself quickly, retreating to safety by putting an unrealistic amount of distance between you two in an inexplicable amount of time. when he abandoned you, you nearly collapse forward with the force you were using to hit him before catching yourself.

“come here.”

“i drink blood.” you did not particularly dislike his attempt to stay on topic, just the topic itself. you try to appear enlightened but you have always found it difficult to repress your repulsion. “i know you have no interest in the macabre.”

“blood is meant to be inside you.”

“i think it tastes great.” he quickly arrives in front of you, your open books and abandoned letters fluttering all over the room as his speed garners its own winds. his thumbs journey over the veins on your wrists, slowly trailing up your forearms. he only speaks again when he hooks his thumbs under your jaw, tilting your head to allow his teeth to graze over the column of your neck. “it is reminiscent of fruit. some blood is like grapefruit and lemon. while some are akin to grape, strawberries.”

“oh,” you sigh, heart slowing as his lips drag along the base of your throat. he pulls back, gazing longingly at your wonderment as you feel his mood swing. bitterness seeps into his eyes in how his taste for blood ironically remains the only provision of some kind of memory of flavour, of normality. “do you enjoy it?”

“blood?”

“being a vampire.” no one has ever asked him such a thing. is there anything to enjoy about eternal life? about reliving his youth, being relocated, remade, renewed over and over and over, for an eternity.

as he gazes down at you, he remembers with all the bad must come some good.

“not always,” he smiles knowingly, thinking of his friends. the lives they built for themselves over a combined millennia. it almost makes him retract saying that. “i do regret some things. like allowing haechan to convince us to help real witches free the falsely accused during the witch trials. only to later discover he had a wager on being able to free more than their coven could.” he loved the way your eyes followed along, he loved knowing he could finally share his life in its entirety with you. “i have a thousand reasons why i should hate it, but I cannot bring myself to.”

“why?” he will find a way to forgive himself for giving you a reason to ask. he will ensure you needn’t ask again.

“because,” he whispers into your mouth, his lips slipping between your own, fingers clasped behind your neck. “if i had died in 1625, i would not have had the honour of making your acquaintance.”

“this is hardly an acquaintance,” you remind him, counting his years in your head as he pulls you flush against him utilising less than a speck of his strength. “careful grandsire,” it tumbles from your lips as he licks against your mouth. “i am not sure a man even three hundred years your junior could make it through what you are starting.”

“you needn’t worry about me,’ he sighs, his groin rolling against your own, his fingers clinging to your breakable frame. “though i must confess, my eating pretty girls named y/n was not said solely in jest.” his fingers toy with your knickers, ice cold digits moving freely along the waistband. “in fact, i fear my sanity depends on it. might you be of some aid?”

“who am i to deny a man nearing his fourth century?” he begs himself not to laugh, if only not to kill the mood but more so to avoid dignifying your mockery. his laughter morphs quickly into pants, your hand slotted wickedly between his own and his groin. “how might i be of assistance to you?”

“just as you are,” he whispers, his dulled teeth passing dangerously along the shell of your ear. as a man of his years, patience isn’t something which he is in short supply. but even then, one grows tired of waiting, for coitus, for love, for you. he is quick to remove your hand, finding his own pacing as he presses you against the wall, your heat pulsing beneath his cock, practically leaking. “i forgot how pliant humans are,” it is wicked how he watches you, his fingers rolling your hardened nub betwixt their pads. you shudder at the sight of him, his golden eyes darkening in the sunlit room, his tongue passing over his sharpened teeth. he smirks as you hiss, his fingers pinching your nipple before sucking it into his mouth. his tongue rolls in time with his hips, running his clothed cock along your clothed folds. he is quickly reminded of his strength as his palm collects dust as it meets the wall with a thud, steadying himself as you whine deliciously, his name bleeding from your raw lips. “yes, angel?”

“i need you,” you breathe, gazing up at him as his lips capture yours. your tongues move in tandem, wrapping around the other in a hypnotic frisk. he swallows your whimpers as he lures them out of you. he sucks your tongue into his mouth, hands moving to your rear before lifting you from the ground. he makes little work of you, rendering you a quarter of your size. your ankles lock around his waist as he casts your knickers aside, hissing as the pad of his finger meets your folds.

“might i have a taste now?” he pleads, eyes burning a fiery amber, pure adoration hidden beneath. “please, angel?”

“take all of me, jaemin.” he holds you still, a metre from the ground as he kneels, his hands firm around your thighs before he lowers you over his mouth. his flat tongue licks long stripes up your cunt, tongue flicking along your hooded clit in his descent. he likens you to a spring, his soul knelt before you, preparing an offering to your fountain. he is ready to collect all you offer him, your essence pouring out onto his tongue, soaking his lips, slick down his chin. his eyes fall to a close at the sight of your dazed form, your eyes screwed shut in prayer, his lips puckering around the hood of your clit, the tip of his tongue rolling against the nerve. “jaemin, right there, please.”

he hums in accordance, his tongue circling your clit as your thighs shake on either side of his head. he smirks as you still, his middle and ring finger entering your warm cavern, forcing your hips to roll against his digits. he curves them slowly, pressing against your pink walls, bulging up against your stomach. “you are so fragile,” he says, lips bitten as he watches your body succumb to his touch. he leans closer to you, steadying you on his shoulders to free his hand. he presses his palm to your abdomen, hypnotised by the feeling of his own fingers inside you. letting his thumb drift down, he pulls up the skin hiding your clit, allowing his lips to pucker against the nub before he offers a hard suck. his tongue joins the fold, drinking you in as you let out a sharp cry, the pressure inside and out joining forces to send you over the edge. “when you’re ready, love, come.”

he can feel your skin burning up, see the sheen of sweat coating your entire body. “jaemin,” you continue to chase your high, but cling to the moment. you feel like your convulsions might snap your body in two. that pleasure such as this cannot exist innately, that only he can bestow it on you. you are proven right as you grow more frantic, his fingers rub against the spot inside you that he found with great ease, as his lips suck on your clitoris. the final straw is his gaze, you feel it and fall victim to it. his irises a bright, angelic white, the rim speckled in gold. one cast of your eyes on your lover and you snap.

there is no doubting that as jaemin gazes up at you, he sees glory eternal. he sees life. he sees an angel.

“come angel.”

and you do. jaemin’s simple command breaks a dam, summoning a flood of pleasure you are unsure you will survive. hot iron passes through your veins, lighting you from the inside out. he continues without thought, his lips sucking the pleasure out of you, his fingers still pounding into your swollen pussy. only when your fingers find his hair, pulling him away with a sharp tug does he concede, lowering you into his lap.

“hi,” he says after some time, watching you pant against the wall. “are you still with me?” he jests, palms gliding up and down your aching thighs.

you hum, gazing up at the golden orbs that you decide you mustn’t live without. much like his life, and much like your love. eternal. “always.”

[lucky-sevens]

mechanisms basics & lore

welcome to my updated mechanisms intro post! this post will cover both the topics discussed in my mechanisms basics post, which is geared towards people who don’t know what the mechanisms are, and my deep lore post, which aimed to be a comprehensive compilation of all the important character and world lore. this post should serve the above group, but it’s geared towards people who have listened but feel there’s a lot of lore that seems to be common knowledge they’re missing. we’ll start out with a basic introduction, and then go into crew lore and a semi-comprehensive guide on where to go for further information.

basics

the mechanisms were a steampunk concept band, known for their queer representation and their tragic stories. they are no longer together, their last performance being january 2020, but several of their members are still creating related spinoff content.

they follow the trope many steampunk bands do, which is albums that tell a story; think similar to listening to a musical soundtrack, but geared to a visual-less experience. what distinguishes them is 1) narration tracks between each song, making the plot very easy to follow, and 2) being meant to be watched live, meaning there’s layers of meta that are more easily understood by watching recorded gigs rather than studio recordings of albums. specifically, there’s a focus on the narrators, known as the mechanisms or the crew of the aurora, who are immortal space pirates telling the stories and occasionally inserting themselves into them. though they are tragic figures themselves, their banter serves the purpose of bringing a lightheartedness and dark humor to the stories. if there’s an aspect of the lore you’re confused on, it’s probably related to the narrators!

to watch the mechanisms live, you can find recordings on youtube, dropbox, google drive, soundcloud, or vimeo, which are all compiled in this post (including transcripts!). if visuals aren’t your thing, i’ve linked the studio recordings later on in this post when they come up, and here are the mechanisms’ official spotify, bandcamp, and youtube, as well as an unofficial comprehensive lyric videos channel. 

the albums

regarding the albums specifically, there are 4 main ones (once upon a time (in space), ulysses dies at dawn, high noon over camelot, and the bifrost incident), 2 that are compilations of miscellaneous songs (tales to be told 1 & 2), 1 single (frankenstein), and 1 album that’s a high-quality recording of their last live show, including an alternative performance of the bifrost incident, 2 songs only performed at live shows, and 'the deathsong’, which details how they all eventually die (death to the mechanisms).

as you might have been able to tell from the titles, they’re all based off of various myths, folklore, literature, and/or fairy tales, using different genres on top of a sci-fi setting to add a fresh twist to them! for example, high noon over camelot is a western based on arthurian mythos, set on a space station. (the albums are known for all ending in tragedy, so be careful if that isn’t your cup of tea!) if your goal is to get into the mechanisms, i’d suggest sitting down and listening to them all in full; links will be provided below, or alternatively you can watch once upon a time (in space) live here, ulysses dies at dawn live here, or the bifrost incident live here. (there is no full live recording with visuals of high noon over camelot, sadly, but there are partial and audio only recordings.)

once upon a time (in space) - spotify/bandcamp/youtube

ulysses dies at dawn - spotify/bandcamp/youtube

high noon over camelot - spotify/bandcamp/youtube

the bifrost incident - spotify/bandcamp/youtube

tales to be told, volume 1 -  spotify/bandcamp/youtube

tales to be told, volume 2 - spotify/bandcamp/youtube

frankenstein - spotify/bandcamp/youtube

death to the mechanisms - edited video with the stream corruption fixed + subtitles / stream / spotify / bandcamp / youtube / transcript pt. 1 / transcript pt. 2

reading the fiction is integral to understanding both the albums and the mechanisms themselves. the fiction is a collection of short stories set in the mechanisms universe posted on their website here and compiled by me here, with an extra high noon over camelot story here. (there are also audio versions for ‘mirror mirror’ and ‘a rebel yell’ included on both the website and the compilation).

the crew of the aurora

as for the crew, at their peak there were nine members played by people, as well as the ex-member dr carmilla, who has extensive solo lore and is still active (which we’ll touch on in a few paragraphs). there is also their ship, the aurora, who is sentient and has her own lore. in fact, every member of the crew has their own backstory, set in a different genre or historical period; for example, nastya rasputina's is historical, jonny d’ville’s is a western and marius von raum’s is a mecha anime. however, they’re all still different flavors of steampunk! below, i’ll list each member, their performer, and the main sources of lore about them. for the majority of them, they have their own song in tales to be told, but there are a few outliers. everyone also has their own bio up on the website, which can all be found here. 

the aurora (n/a, ship)- on aurora (meta)

jonny d’ville (jonny sims)- one eyed jacks (song), jonny before he was mechanized (meta)

nastya rasputina (anonymous)- cyberian demons (song)

ivy alexandria (morgan wilkinson)- archive footage (fiction), crew bio

ashes o’reilly (frank voss)- lucky sevens (song)

drumbot brian (ben below)- lost in the cosmos (song), crew bio

the toy soldier (jessica law)- the story of the toy soldier (fiction)

gunpowder tim (tim ledsam)- gunpowder tim vs the moon kaiser (song/minialbum)

marius von raum (kofi young)- the death of byron von raum summary (blog post)

raphaella la cognizi (r l hughes)- crew bio

if you’ve noticed the crew bio doesn’t say much about raphaella, that’s because we know little to nothing about her backstory. the only thing we have to go on is a quote from the tv tropes page, which looking at the edit history, was likely written by one of the mechanisms. the quote is ‘Science officer who may or may not have cheated her way onto the ship after becoming a little too interested.‘ and the page is here.

the majority of fandom content is about the crew, working off of what we get from the tales to be told songs, the live gigs, and the fiction.

dr carmilla

speaking of characters with obscure lore, let’s talk about dr carmilla! rather than linger, i’ll just link my carmilla basics post, which is a comprehensive summary of who she is in and out of universe. to summarize, she’s a character based on the novella ‘carmilla’ by sheridan le fanu, commonly regarded as the first vampire novel, but her lore has diverged heavily from that original starting point since then. she is the oldest out of all of the crew, and made the majority of the other crew members immortal. she, as well as aurora, is from a planet called terra, which was destroyed partially as a result of her actions. her character is defined by her immortality and how she deals with it, her experiences on terra, her relationship with the mechanisms, and her dysfunctional relationship with her ex-girlfriend loreli, the last of which is the most covered by her songs. out of universe, she is played by maki yamazaki. all her lore lines up with what happened out of universe, and ties to the fact the mechanisms were originally dr carmilla and the mechanisms. she has two solo albums and two singles, which i’ll link below.

ageha (prototype edition) (album)- bandcamp | youtube

exhumed and {un}plugged (album)- bandcamp | youtube

the city {nex:type mix} (single, in-character cover)- bandcamp | youtube

eleven (single)- bandcamp | youtube

the majority of her lore is still to be officially revealed, and will be in the trilogy of albums maki yamazaki is working on.

further reading

if you’d like to delve further into the lore, there are a few sources i use! there are official, in-character, blogs, as well as things that are harder to dredge up; i won’t link them here, but some sources include @/thedreadvampy (the band’s artist, as well as morgan wilkinson’s sister and kofi young’s partner; don’t bother her for lore or anything, but she’s previously made posts sharing previously unknown information), old websites and deleted content found on the wayback machine, the tv tropes pages, and most notably the lore doc.

the ‘maki forbidden lore doc’ is an archive of all the lore maki yamazaki has shared on the mechscord, the official mechanisms discord which she’s on, and her own personal server, where she’s running an arg (alternate reality game) as a way of relaying more lore about the dr carmilla universe. for an idea of the scale, the doc is currently 91 pages and 28346 words, and recontextualizes much of what is known about dr carmilla and maki’s canon of the mechanisms universe. it is confidential to anyone not in her discord or the mechscord, as she’s said that this lore isn’t thought out nearly as much as the albums and is subject to change, so she’d rather it not be out in the open. however, information on how to join the mechscord can be found here. there is also a non-canonical fan project based on the arg in progress, but information on it is also confidential for now.

with regards to the above phrase ‘maki’s canon’ it’s worth noting that all of the individual band members have their own idea of what counts as canon and what doesn’t, and as you foray deeper into lore that division becomes more and more apparent.

with that, here are the mechanisms’ blogs. they are all both run in-character by the main nine band members and inactive unless i note otherwise.

twitter

tumblr

facebook

website/wordpress (run ic by tereshkova’s ghost, the blogbot, for the most part)

carmilla twitter (active, run ic by dr carmilla)

conclusion

now that we’re coming to the end of this, i’d like to thank whoever got this far, and to say a few words. my interest in the mechanisms has been slowly fading, and i’ve been writing less and less meta and lapsing in keeping up with new lore myself. honestly, i’m pretty worn out by how much i’ve done on this blog and in this fandom, and the commitments i’ve assigned myself. i do have plans for future meta, but it’s unlikely they’ll come to fruition. so, i thought i’d do a new version of my two oldest posts on this blog, and hopefully enable other people to look into the lore and theorize themselves with the new information.

to find more information, remember there’s a mechanisms wiki, and that my askbox is always open.

thanks for reading!

[therealvinelle]

You've said before that you think Meyer is a good writer. I'm neutral to her myself but you're the first person in the fandom to say that that I've seen and I was wondering what your reasons were.

Sure thing.

First of, some referential links. In this post I explain why I like Meyer’s worldbuilding, and in this one I explain (in the last reblog - you can get away with skipping the previous posts) why I think her character creation is well done, and in this one I talk about why I like Twilight in the first place, though that post got a bit off-topic.

So, let me first do the disclaimer that I do not think Meyer is perfect.

Her greatest flaw, I’d say, is that what she intends to write isn’t always what ends up on page. Edward is for instance supposed to be the ideal man, chivalrous and the very antithesis of toxic masculinity. His relationship with Bella is supposed to be a love story on part with all the classics. Jacob, too, is intended as a dreamboat. Alice is the ideal BFF, Rosalie is the bitchy Regina George, Esme is the ultimate mother, and all the Cullen relationships are wonderfully happy. Aro is supposed to be a sinister villain and the Volturi are all corrupt.

Now, all of the above is how Bella perceives things, and I’m all for unreliable narrators. All narrators are, to a point, unreliable, and inferring things from fiction is one of my favorite things to do (as you can probably tell if you’ve been following this blog). However, so far as I can tell Meyer didn’t intend for Bella to have no clue what’s going on at any given time.

As it happens, I also think this is one of her strengths. This woman is living on a different planet, her mind is on a level I can’t follow at all, only spectate in silent wonder. What I’m saying is, no author in their right mind would write Twilight. No one would write Edward as delightfully unhinged as he is, for starters, not without toning him down significantly (just look at how the movies toned him down). To say nothing of how Bella would be a much more functional person, and in turn much less interesting. Aro would be an actual villain, and Twilight as a whole would not be so overwhelmingly bleak.

Her strengths come through in that she’s consistent about it, and while she interprets things differently than I do, she is still the creator of this bizarre universe and one who knows it intimately well. Does she think Edward is great, yes. Did she also write Midnight Sun without pulling any punches, also yes.

I’d put it this way, the flaw of hers that I’m trying to get at is that she creates this rich and horrifying universe and gets full credit from me for that, but she views it through rose-tinted glasses. Which in turn leads to some interesting writing and plotting decisions.

She has one other significant flaw that comes to mind. She’s not good at cutting things.

This goes for both scenes and plotlines. There’s a lot of filler in these books, from Bella making enchiladas in Twilight, to New Moon taking far too long in Jake’s garage and with Bella’s depression before things start happening again, to Breaking Dawn being 2/3rds filler (the wedding, honeymoon, and vampire euphoria especially come to mind.) There’s a lot of stuff in these books that weren’t necessary to the plot. The Host suffer from this as well.

To say nothing of the bigger things she should have cut, like Jake’s involvement in Breaking Dawn. He’d played out his part, Bella chose to become everything he hated, we were done. The book had more than enough story with Renesmée and the Volturi happening, and Jake’s involvement only served to lower the book’s overall quality. And introduce a pedophilic storyline, which, Meyer no.

Then there are decisions she made where I would have chosen differently, such as Bella returning to Forks at the end of New Moon.

However, this all being said, I am a very difficult person to please. Meyer was never going to tick all my boxes, and while I have points of contention with her, my overall impression is a positive one.

(Just to stress how difficult I am to please: I read Good Omens a few days ago. I liked it very much, but it wasn’t perfect. Shadwell, Madame Tracy, Newt Pulcifer and the Them could all have been cut, for starters.

I’m too critical of everything, and it’s not just Meyer that I think should have cut significant parts of their respective stories and made them into something fundamentally different.)

So, now that I’ve torn her apart, what do I like about her? What, for that matter, do I think constitutes a good writer?

To list a few things I like about her as a writer:

She’s good at writing Her prose is very good, her characters are interesting and engaging people, she’s very good at establishing a scene or a character, and she’s evocative. Her prose never bores me, and it makes me feel things.

She has good ideas Self-explanatory,  really. Her lore is extremely original, her characters are interesting, and she comes up with great backstories and worldbuilding. The Southern Wars, for instance, brilliant.

She’s consistent She’s described this herself - she doesn’t get to decide what her characters do, sometimes they do things she very much does not want them to do and she’s quite put out about it. And that, I think, is the key to why her characterization is so consistent - she doesn’t do that dreaded thing where the author forces a character to do what they must to force the plot along, like cramming a square through a triangular hole, she just lets her characters decide for themselves. As her characters are already delightful people, this works out beautifully (Edward conspiring with Jacob that they should forcibly abort Bella’s baby so Jake can then impregnate her comes to mind. Or Aro, whom she views as a powerhungry maniac, showing up at the battleground and being absolutely devastated about that fact.) as they never do anything they wouldn’t do, and their characterization does not change from one book to another. (Counterexample: look at how Kylo Ren in The Rise of Skywalker turns towards the light when we’re closing in on the end of the movie. It’s unconvincing, to say the least, and runs contrary to what has previously been established about him. The movie does not bother to explain why this happens now, what it is that’s so special about one chat with Han and a duel with Rey that makes him turn his life around, nor why it couldn’t have happened sooner. He is redeemed because the trilogy is nearly over, not because it made sense for his character.)

Her plotting is generally good Her plots make sense, I’m invested in them, and they’re reasonably adapted to her characters’ power levels (The clusterfuck that was the Department of Mysteries showdown in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix is an example of the antithesis of that).

Of these virtues, I’d place the most emphasis on Meyer’s writing and character creation.

As for what makes a good writer…

It’s difficult for me to pin down.

It’s chiefly whether I think their writing is good, and that means prose, characters, and plot. As Meyer fulfills all of these three, that puts her in my “good writer” box. She’s not perfect, but she has earned her place as a published author.

More, I enjoy reading her books and care about the story and characters she creates. This is a matter of personal preference, but I’m down for what she’s putting out. It would be disingenuous for me to do that and then say “... but of course, she’s a terrible writer”, in part because I feel that’s become a bit of a disclaimer when it comes to Meyer. It’s like the Emperor’s New Clothes. Stephenie Meyer is a bad writer, everyone knows that, if you think otherwise you have bad taste. She has written things, I’ve enjoyed them all, and I’m giving her full credit for that.

[thegeminisage]

birthday meta for the birthday boy <3

[this version of the meta is behind a cut. if you’d prefer the no-cut version, it’s here.]

a fun little fanon from Ye Olde Days of spn (when seasons 1-5 were airing) was that sam always had the absolute worst birthdays. a big part of this is because sam’s birthday is in may. supernatural tends to align itself with “real time,” meaning that they like to use either the date the episode was filmed or the date it aired as the in-universe date, even when two canon dates conflict each other. (they’re so intent on doing this that they pretended the gap years between s5 & s6 and s7 & s8 right out of existence - season openers also usually tend to pick up right after season finales in-universe but still somehow be set several months later.) that means sam’s birthday tends to line up with the airdates on either season finales or episodes right before the finales, which means that every time sam gets a year old, shit hits the fan. 

here’s a list of things that did happen or could have happened on some of sam's birthdays:

0-22: we don’t have much in the way as far as concrete dates go for preseries stuff, but it’s perfectly possible sam walked out all that bullshit the day he turned 18, even if i prefer to think he left at age 19 as that aligns rather tragically with some adam-related canon.

23: we don’t have any dates for the end of s1/opening of s2 either, but it’s likely that sam’s birthday took place between 1.20 (dead man’s blood) and 2.01 (in my time of dying). he could have been doing anything from hunting vampires to saving one of YED’s special children to almost shooting his possessed father to getting hit by a semi to using a ouija board to talk to his not-quite-dead brother.

24: here’s where the real fun starts >:) sam died in cold oak in 2.21 (all breaks loose pt 1) and in the episode he says he’s 23. but according to the lore (extra-canonical material), dean made the deal to bring him back on his 24th birthday...

25: ...which means that on his 25th birthday, he was forced to watch dean get dragged to hell...

25b: ...except that sam had TWO 25th birthdays, because mystery spot took place in february, and sam lived in an alternate timeline where dean stayed dead for 6 months, putting him well past may 2nd. which meant that the first time he turned 25, he was actually getting tortured by gabriel. while his brother was getting tortured (or torturing someone else) in hell.

26: 4.20 (the rapture) took place in very late april/very early may (the wiki says may 3, but that’s just a guess), and 4.21 (when the levee breaks) picks up immediately where it left off. so it’s not only plausible but EXTREMELY LIKELY that sam was locked up in the panic room suffering withdrawals when he turned 26, dude

26b: ...except that in 11.17 (safe house), bobby and rufus’s half of the episode presumably takes place at the same time during season 4, and he mentions sam and dean are in reno?? so you know they could have been doing that instead.

27: we have no hard and fast dates for the end of season 5, but it’s my personal headcanon that sam’s birthday took place during 5.22 (swan song), and he beat the devil and leapt into hell on the day he turned 27 - because at this point, why not. however, his birthday could also have taken place during either 5.20 (the devil you know) or 5.21 (two minutes to midnight), meaning he was reconfronting his old college pal who turned out to be a demon brady, or helping bobby and a human cas destroy the factory with the croatoan virus.

28: there’s a gap year between s5 and s6, so sam’s 28th birthday took place while he was soulless, hunting with the campbell family...

28b: ...except spn likes to say “a year passed” without adding one to the calendar, so sam ALSO had a 28th birthday during the airing of s6. there’s some conflicting information about s6′s timeline, so this could have happened anywhere from 6.18 (frontierland) to 6.21 (let it bleed). sam could have been doing anything from time traveling to fighting eve to grappling with cas going dark side to rescuing lisa and ben.

29: sam’s 29th birthday almost definitely took place during 7.20 (the girl with the dungeons and dragons tattoo), during which he met charlie. in case you’ve forgotten, that was actually a great day for him - in a moment of true little brother antics and justifiable homophobia, he got to laugh at dean gay flirting with the security guard.

30: there was another gap year between s7 and s8, which means that sam spent the big three-oh with amelia richardson while dean and cas were in purgatory. he got to have a picnic!

30b: ...but since spn ignores gap years, sam ALSO had a 30th birthday during s8 (a big season for him). there isn’t an exact date for the episodes leading up to the finale, which takes place in late may, after sam’s birthday, so his birthday could have taken place in either 8.21 (the great escapist), where he nearly died of his trial-induced fever and confessed to dean that he always felt unclean, or during 8.22 (clip show), where he met sarah blake again after nearly a decade, only to have her die right in front of him.

31: the s9 timeline is pretty vague, but the best guess for this one is 9.18 (meta fiction), in which sam finally gets to confront gadreel, the angel who possessed him and killed kevin with his hands

32: the s10 timeline is also short on dates, so sam’s birthday could have taken place anywhere between 10.16 (paint it black) and 10.21 (dark dynasty). a few possible things sam could have been doing: dealing with a hunt involving soulless people, helping cas and bobby break metatron out of heaven’s prison, catching up with charlie and giving rowena the book of the damned, battling the cursed werther house (don’t click that unless you’ve seen the episode, the twist is TOO good), reuniting claire with her mom, or building charlie’s pyre.

33: the last quarter or so of s11 happens really quickly sequentially, every episode picking up soon after the last one left off, which means that sam’s birthday either took place at the very end of the season or the beginning of s12. it’s most likely he turned 33 either the day dean saved the sun and sam himself got shot and kidnapped by toni bevell, or a few days later when he was being held captive and tortured in her basement.

34: unfortunately, sam’s 34th birthday almost definitely took place during 12.21 (there’s something about mary). i was really hoping it’d be 12.22 so he could be kicking the bmol’s asses, learning lucifer was back, and hugging mary, but no...instead he was mostly likely learning that ketch had had eileen killed. 

35: because of some weird canon, the timeline for season 13 is actually batshit insane and makes no sense whatsoever, which means sam’s birthday is really early this season - either during 13.17 (the thing) where he rescues his brother from a frisky tentacle monster or 13.18 (bring ‘em back alive) where he hangs out with gabriel and cas in the bunker. since that’s garbage, you’d be forgiven for ignoring canon and pretending sam’s birthday fell on one of the following episodes - 13.19 (funeralia) is very touching, as he and rowena clash and then make up with each other; 13.21 (beat the devil) has sam capturing lucifer, then dying and getting revived and captured by him; 13.22 has sam getting a little revenge by leaving lucifer for dead; 13.23, of course, has lucifer finally dying for good.

36: there’s no dates whatsoever on the back half of s14, so theoretically sam’s birthday could take place in any episode after 14.13 (lebanon). the likeliest and COOLEST candidate is for sam to turn 36 during 14.20, in which he shoots god himself point blank. other admittedly inferior  scenarios include his stint as justin the 50s househusband, mary’s death, or putting jack in the ma’lak box.

37: we saw this birthday happen onscreen during 15.14 (last holiday) at a party thrown by mrs. butters. unfortunately, not too long after that, she wound up torturing him by pulling out his fingernails.

38: that’s this year! because the timeline of s15 is also so weird and vague, partially fucked up by covid changing the shooting/airing times, and because sam’s birthday is SO early in s15, it’s possible that he has another one this season, right at the end, or maybe post-canon, which means............................................

...................................................that he’s spending it with dean and jack and the newly revived eileen and cas, in the bunker or somewhere else he feels safe and loved :)

happy birthday, sam winchester <3 after all the unhappy ones...u deserve it

[spn masterpost]

[littlewalken]

Notes on vampire lore, mostly western European

I apologize ahead of time if I don't have these notes properly sourced. Most of this probably came from a collection of "weird and mysterious" web pages I found at online and took notes from. Still it provides some starting points for studying vampires.

Also check out TV Tropes and their pages on vampires in general and specific works.

/////

There are as many types of vampires as there are diseases; some are violent and deadly and some just make you walk funny and avoid fruit-Terry Pratchett

neamh mairbh- undead revenant visible ghost or animated corpse returned from the grave to terrorize the living, at first just to be annoying then with a purpose. Were wrong doers in life time. Exhume, decapitate, burn, or remove heart. Suicides or witches, can be evil possession or bitten by a vampire

Baobhan sith (Scottish) Lhiannan Shee (Man) succubus like

Dearg-due (red blood sucker) a beautiful young woman who commits suicide when forced in to a marriage then rises from her grave to seek revenge by killing her father and husband.

Droch-fhola (droc-ola) evil blood and Dun Dcroch-fhola which guarded MacGullicuddy Reeks in County Kerry

Malignant cycle of vampires 1931-1948 erotic 1950-1985 sympathetic 1987-2001individualist 2003

They need blood, are usually viral, because via infection, a deal with the devil, or just being an asshole and God curses them, or ritual magic. Capable of changing people to vampires or become one after being cursed by parents, dying by suicide, practicing witchcraft, being a werewolf, or born dead. Many times its a very involved procedure few have the heroic will power needed to resist attempting to change a loved one to an eternal companion rarely works. Sometimes killing the head vampire is the only way to revert to human. Show up in modern mirrors that use aluminum instead of silver. Creating too many vampires spreads the bloodlines thin.

Do vampires go to the toilet? If they eat, yes. They’re not a species but a mutation caused by a virus which explains why they can’t have children but can affect others. Being bitten isn’t enough in fact most drink tainted blood or there’d be millions of vampires by now.

What languages live on in the minds of the living dead?

Cain killed Abel and was banished. He wandered until he met Lilith. She’s often depicted as killing human children and showed Cain the life power of blood. With Cain’s punishment he gained blood lust.

There is no history of Jewish vampires but Catholics drink the blood of Jesus, eat his flesh, and he was killed on a wooden stake.

There is no theoretical limit on the number of skills that vampire could acquire to a reasonable level of confidence, aside from being out in the daylight or around silver.

At the 1816 drinking party that gave us Frankenstein in a year without a summer the group decided to pass the time by writing ghost stories. The Vampyre:A Tale by John Polidoi modeled on the Byronian Hero; sophisticated, tortured, and highly seductive.

1872 Sheridan Le Facu’s Carmilla introduces the lesbian vampire that embodied the fear of a foreign dark enemy that can pass among us unrecognized

If perfectly rational well educated people could accept the existence of roaming corpses 300 years ago why is the same idea inconceivable now? Our common sense will change depending on our historically defined standards of judgement, we live in a culture that doesn’t permit corpses to stir and thus vampires are fiction

Bram Stoker (Dracula) invented the following vampire lore: no reflection, no shadow, can’t cross running water except at slack or flood tide, daylight death, native earth. Traditionally their powers were only weaker in daylight and the need to feed varied by culture. Dracula allowed Victorians to live thru it vicariously, cultural commentary on the time it was written in.

Ways to become a vampire-conceived on a holy day, weaned too early, 7th son of a 7th son or rendering a curse, mother didn’t eat enough salt during pregnancy, committing suicide, being murdered or a murderer, eating a sheep killed by a wolf, leading an immoral life, priest saying a mass while in a state of immoral sin. After death if a cat or other animal jumps or flies over a corpse, shadow falls on a corpse, no burial or improper burial, murder unavenged, death by drowning, stealing the ropes used to bury the corpse.

How to recognize a vampire’s grave-look for finger sized holes around the grave disturbed dust, constant mists, fallen stones, footprints, no birds singing, animals refusing to enter, groaning sounds from under the earth

Vampires are obsessed with untangling and counting things

Unable to come in without invited usually attributed to a measure of sanctuary of place of residence. Maybe breaking and entering is beneath them. When in a foreign place and presenting self to the ruler without acceptance you’re nothing. The dame reason Highlanders don’t fight in church. Politeness is very important when you’re immortal. Hospitality allowing people from different regions to travel safely in each others territory. Proper guests don’t disrespect, host honor bound once you’re invited in. Welcome to my humble home is equivalent to signing a deal with the devil. Spiritual work to keep evil out. If a vampire is hungry get anyone but to recruit a new member you befriend them.

Dhamphyr-child of a vampire and a human, hybrid power, all powers and no weakness, or watered down powers. Usually the vampire parent is the father who isn’t around. Powers weaker in death.

The reason vampires are said not to cast a reflection would be that older mirrors were made with silver. Modern mirrors use aluminum.

[thecitythatdoesntsleep]

Vampire Master-Guide

First of all I want to start off by saying I've gathered inspiration from MANY vampire medias. Fictions, games. The biggest influences are Vampire the masquerade (primarily bloodlines) and Vampire Knight (manga). As well as honorable mentions to Vampyr (game), Queen of the Damned (movie) and Van Helsing (movie, anime). So if anything sounds familiar, chances are it is. I highly encourage you to explore them as they are a few of my favorites.

Second of all this is going to be massive, so I'll be putting it under a cut. But it will be a comprehensive guide to my personal vampire lore that I've crafted and worked with through the years. If you like it, feel free to use it! I'd absolutely love to be tagged (so I can shower the creations with praise) but it's not required. I'm just out here making one more version of vampires that hopefully inspires you. There will be a couple different categories that I will touch base on.

History (this part is super short)

Physicality - Medical Information

Physicality - Appearance/Body

Mental Effects

Society

Anything from my vampire lore will be tagged #vlor

Now follow me under the cut, lovelies. But please be Warned: We'll be discussing blood, violence, physical and mental illness. As well as regular vampire related things. If any of this could trigger you, please kindly skip this post because you're far more important to me!

'History'

The original vampire to walk the earth, cursed by the heavens was Caine. After committing the first murder, a blood-soaked punishment was to forever be banished to walk the darkness with a constant reminder of his crimes. Thirst. Craving for the same blood he shed against his own kin. The sin was carried through the years and he came upon another outcast kindred by the name of Lilith, cursed by God in a different way and hexed with powerful disciplines.

They bonded as kine and Lilith taught her chaos to Caine in hopes they'd rule together. In the end his nature stayed true and his now empowered wrath befalls Lilith, committing murder yet again and taking her life.

To feed upon and be fed, was a now animalistic instinct that spoke louder than supposed human nature ever could. And thus the curse spread. To anyone that drinks from the tainted or is bitten by a rabid, is surely to bear it at the final heartbeat. The path to redemption is sealed but survival is nearly infinite. So long as the beast is obeyed and satisfied, there is no constraint on lifespan. They will be damned to an eternity enslaved to thirst.

(Primarily from VTMB but I really like the idea of it being some sort of ancient curse from the gods so I thought I'd include this tiny historical bit. Onto the good stuff.)

Physicality - Medical Information

Vampires are anemic, let's just establish that all vampires are what modern day medicine would consider anemia. But they also have super aggressive red blood cells that function x100 that of human white blood cells. All in one combo of super cells. No illness spreads. No disease can contract, nothing can live in their system. They don't fall ill with colds or flu. STD's aren't feasible. Their systems are far too strong and combative to infections, bacteria.

Their integumentary systems regenerate about x200 - x300 times faster. Within seconds (if there is or has been fresh blood in the system recently) their skin regenerates and goes even beyond that. Mere hours and limbs grow back, bones realign.

Vampires don't have functioning organs. (If they are turned from humans they are there but they don't work and will eventually wither.) Hearts don't beat, lungs have no need for air.

Vampires can't drown. They don't breathe and even if water fills their lungs, they would be weighted down but not die. They also don't float like humans do naturally.

Vampires can go out in the sun but they have hard times with sun poisoning. Think of a sunburn but more like a rash. They can't process the vitamin D very well and almost all of them have trouble with getting severely burnt very rapidly or having a rash from the sun. Prolonged exposure can make them feverish, nauseated and give them body cramps and fatigue. Even longer can make them violently ill and can essentially melt their skin. It can be healed but takes longer.

Staking their hearts immobilizes them but does NOT kill them. They can be detained this way and it is excruciatingly painful. But it doesn't kill you.

Vampires can't eat food. Only few can consume liquids aside from blood. They have no ability to digest it and no longer make acid. They'll usually heave it up along with whatever blood content is left in their gut.

They have perfect eyesight, hearing, hyper senses of taste and smell. Touch is extremely sensitive as well. Their skin isn't fragile, in fact it's a bit thicker than average skin from how fast it regenerates and is constantly maintaining itself.

They are very resistant but not impossible to scar. Scars from human life are erased with first turning.

Vampire blood tastes like flat soda or icky, room temperature tap water. Unpleasant to other vampires but in a desperate pinch, it will sustain but nowhere near as good as foreign blood does. Even animal blood takes better care of a vampires system than another body of recycled blood. (Think of it as they've already taken the good stuff out of it for their own bodies so all that's left is the taste and a few stray nutrients.)

Vampires fangs grow back indefinite. At about x10 the rate of humans losing and replacing their first set. No matter what comes of them, their fangs will always grow back. No other teeth mutate like this.

Fangs lengthen and retract when around blood or not. It's not something that can be helped or even trained out. When blood is present, fangs will lengthen even if there is no intention to feed. Automatic reaction and a painful one at that. They get used to it but it's a sharp pain like having a human tooth extracted but it doesn't have prolonged swelling or discomfort. Only when getting longer or retracting back in.

Whenever they're in bloodlust or a state of starvation, they gain a sense of x-ray vision but instead it's vein mapping. They can see through skin to arteries and if it's severe blood lust, they can even see the smaller, tinier veins in fingers and faces. This is a sight that ever vampire possesses in order to obtain blood easier or figure out a good place to bite. Anything that is living will be seen in a structure of veins. Animals, humans, other vampires.

Severing the brain stem from the body is one of the few sure-fire way to kill a vampire. Alternatively burning them to pure ash and scattering them or holding them in separate vessels. (If ALL ashes are contained somehow and mixed with fresh blood, there is a reanimation process so beheading them is more permanent.) Silver weapons or exposure to silver prior to wound can result in death as well.

Alcohol is SUPER effective when they drink it. Think of one shot making them drunk because it hits their bloodstream almost immediately. A double would have them seeing double and acting like a hot mess. 3+ for even the beefiest of men would have them blacked out and vomiting on the sidewalks.

Drugs effect them but only in extremely high doses and for nothing really over 2 hours or so. Short, short longevity but they have the same crash that humans do. If it's hard detoxing symptoms for humans, it's the same but faster. They can do a hard drug, feel the high for maybe 1 - 2 hours and immediately go into hallucinating and shaking from the aftermath. The same goes for Pharmacia. There's really no medicine that works.

Garlic is a myth. So is wolfsbane.

Silver on the other hand is a very real, very deadly weapon that still rings true. A single pinprick of a silver sewing needle and it can render a vampire powerless. Slow them down to the speed of a human, take away their rapid healing and remove all of their heightened senses. Silver directly into the bloodstream essentially renders them as they were before they turned in physical response and structure. It's the only metal that burns vampires skin and will char it if it sits in one spot for too long. Silver is the only kind of metal that can forge chain that vampires cannot break and can successfully be restrained in. Any wounds inflicted in silver take longer to heal.

They can't reproduce after being turned. Purebloods + Purebloods are the only exception and it's still extremely rare. (Only 9 children born in over 2,500+ years.)

Physicality - Appearance/Body

Whatever color their eyes are, blood-lust accentuates the brightest color. I.e: Brown eyes turn Yellow/Gold, Blue eyes turn White/Purple exct. (Different powers can change this depending on the vampire and their history, sire.) Just think neon, glowing eyes in the dark if they're thirsty or hunting.

They stay frozen in whatever physical appearance they're turned in. Their metabolism is whack so they don't really lose or gain weight, it's down to cosmetic changes or cosmetic surgery. Which at least it heals flawlessly and doesn't ever change. But there aren't many options for personally invested physical change.

Their hair and nails grow super fast.

Vampires usually have the hair color they have when they are turned but around 15% experience graying or whitening of their hair within a few days of turning. Due to a semi-common genetic string in humans.

Vampires don't tan. They burn. No matter what their skin color is. Most are the palest/pasty tone of their natural skin color merely due to anemia and lack of blood circulation.

They don't blush or show physical signs of fever.

Vampires don't sweat or flush when exerting or exercising. They don't have to regulate their body temperatures.

They get dry skin pretty often and it's important to combat it with baths and soaks and lotions/oils whenever possible.

They are usually a lukewarm body temperature. As low as 15°C|59°F to as much as 21°C|69.8°F.

Every vampire has a certain amount of charming allure to them. In whatever form or fashion suits them the best, it's a natural attractant to their human counterparts. A glint to their eyes, a certain smile, the pitch or timbre of their voice. Endearing, seductive, mysterious, whichever shines through in their personality. They are magnetic, attractive to the human eye, no matter what they tend to look like.

They can see themselves in aluminum coated mirrors. Just not silver.

Mental Effects

There is a staggering 95% probability that 'created' vampires will have amnesia unless turned by a pureblood/noble/king/queen/high ranking blood vampire. They remember nothing of their human lives and this is extremely common. It's actually very rare to remember anything prior to your awakening. (That's why there are usually strict laws about siring without consent and proof of consent.)

It is very easy for vampires to be blinded by fits of rage when starving for blood. They can fly into blind anger and attack people they normally wouldn't or even foes they have no chance of winning against. Depending on their remaining strength when this tipping point of starvation happens; it can be extremely dangerous to be around.

Most turned vampires suffer a psychotic break in their early turning years. (Between 6mo and up to 25 years of awakening age. I.e: from the date of being bitten.) The brain is the last thing to be altered in the physical process and because of this, it's believed that their mental state has to crumble to be built better. It's unknown as to exactly why this happens but it's almost guaranteed. It's the vampire equivalent of 'adolescence'.

Over 75% of vampires experience periodic depression and random bouts of sadness. Another 39% live with bouts of mild to moderate psychosis. (This has been suspected to happen because of the physical stasis and improper circulation of chemicals/hormones/exct. Many believe it's because of the guilt of their King, Caine.)

Mental illnesses that aren't born from physical imbalances are in cases of amnesia, cured. Those that are chemically related are usually worsened by the stagnant physical changes of vampirism. It's rare that those with amnesia remember their traumas or emotional upsets after turning.

The "amnesia" of turning is the death of a human psyche. With the staggering rate of permanent amnesia, it is hard to figure out exactly how it happens but it's widely known.

Society

Humans are not fully aware of vampires. This still rings true with the fear of world war and or wiping out the human race given their species.

There is a high society "government" type of monarchy. Each clan or type of vampires has a leader "elder". This is usually the oldest vampire to date of that specific type. Sometimes it's a group or a family of elders. In most modern day they have adapted to a more "presidential" route and have to establish themselves as leader types to be considered for any kind of law making or enforcement. (I.e: Noble bloodline, diligent efforts of servitude such as public service, military or other.)

There is a strict law against turning humans. Vampires are required to have clearly given consent and the process is to be looked over by an elder or enforcer. They must show strenuous documentation of that persons preservation in the name of probable amnesia. They must have a comprehensive processing of that persons interests, personality traits, societal standing, proof of occupational termination, familial status and situational agreement. (Basically they don't want humans forgetting their lives entirely and they want to make sure that they are able to move somewhere or hide from their families until they're well trained enough to be around them again. It's a very long to legally accomplish it.

Every city handles turning differently. Some require the sire to pay the death penalty and others are strictly against killing the one person responsible of their turned kindred.

Vampires are in every day jobs, doing anything and everything that humans do. From trash collecting, to law and doctors. Fame, fortune, poor, criminal; they all live as many walks of life as humans do.

Anti-vampire establishments are alive and well. Most are run by other vampires. Some humans share their beliefs but most typically it's a resounding amount of vampire extremists. This is legal due to the fact that they try to adhere and coexist for their sanctions ordinance. Helping enforce justice for their regions and implore an opposing force for rampaging vampires or other law breaking kindred.

Most human killings are covered up, tampered with or has someone on the inside working on doing both. It's a constant job but a needed one to keep their existence safe from being proven.

There is a massive shortage on vampire doctors serving other vampires or studying from what little information there is on vampirism. The ratio looking like 1 to 300. 1 doctor for every 300 vampires.

The most vampire dominated and lucrative occupations are generally law, publishing and sex working. There are 3 vampires with these jobs to every human worker.

Here is an additional post about how vampire blood would effect humans.

So that was everything I could think of for the time being. I may continue to edit and update this as I have time or I think of something that I haven't touched base on yet. But this is just the general lore I work with when I do write about vampires or when I think about them in general. Feel free to skip certain parts or like.. adapt it however you'd like. I made this to more so inspire people not to show a list of HOW things should go. Take of it what you like and ignore what you don't! Add more if you think of something!

Some of it gets a bit random but it's still things that I've either incorporated in some unpublished fics or talked about with some friends or just fantasized about in general. There's bits and pieces in all media for vampires that I really enjoy and I think every new style spins something different and makes for wonderful content!

[wendimydarling]

Cover the Mirrors

Summary: Amber is earning a masters degree in mythology and folklore; when a handsome stranger sweeps her off her feet, she’s left wondering how, and struggles to keep up with his lifestyle.

Pairing: Vampire!August Walker x OFC (first person reader)

Word Count: 6826

Warnings: Alright, we ready to get into the menu of delights we will be reading today? Okay but seriously, if you are triggered by anything on this list, it is your responsibility to not read this work of fiction. The warnings are as follows: manipulation, subtle exhibitionism, fingering, penetrative sex, mention of oral (male receiving), biting, clawing, choking, blood, male violence, gore, non-con, rape, spitting, fear play, primal play, breeding, mention of death, torture, and potentially cannibalism, if you squint.

A/N: Okay so this story is based off of this thread where @killjoy-assbutt-1112​ gave me a fic title, but I added another twist to it that I’d been brewing for months; I was excited about it but now I’m not. Whatever, I’ll give it to you anyway. Sources for my vampire lore came from here and here. Cover art was made by me; August was drawn by the amazingly talented @cheyentjj​ and has been used with her permission. Thank you so much to everyone who brainstormed with me, and a special thanks to @agniavateira​ for betaing! 

“If you look at the Slavic region, vampire folklore runs rampant. One especially interesting specimen is the Pijavica. The Pijavica (translated “leech”, or “drinker”) was a rare species of vampire— traditionally male, and a powerfully strong, cold-blooded killer. The potential for conception is most commonly believed to be through the incest of the deceased with his mother during his life, though some believe that one can be created through the exceptionally malicious and evil acts of the deceased before his death. 

The birth of a Pijavica is attributed to many different causes, including suffering an “unnatural” or untimely death such as suicide, excommunication, improper burial rituals, or even simple causes such as an animal jumping or bird flying over either the corpse or the empty grave, being conceived on certain days, or being born with a caul, teeth, or tail.” 

I paused my typing, fingers leaving the keyboard in order to brush loose strands of hair from my face. Around me, the baristas of my favorite coffee shop were buzzing like worker bees in an old hive; they were gearing up for the lunch rush, and I realized I’d been here four hours already. 

This place had long been my go-to study zone. It was small; there was just enough hustle and bustle to keep me from descending too deep into the abyss of studying and yet, it had the respect of the patrons that a library does. The owner, Fred, made sure that conversations were kept in hushed tones, courteous to those of us who needed to work in noise instead of quiet. 

“If ya wanna be loud, go sit at a Starbucks!” He’d huff at those who didn’t heed his warning.

My eyes took in the familiar surroundings as I stretched. An oversized wood-burning fireplace filled the wall next to the vintage cash register; it was sandwiched between two built-in bookcases housing stories of all kinds that were meant to be read and enjoyed. The old stone clackling ran all the way up the wall, and a custom mantle made from an old oak tree that had fallen in Fred’s backyard sat delicately above the firebox. Yes, this shop was magical. It held a special place in my heart, and I’d visited so often that old Fred had deemed the table I sat at as “my table”. It was always kept reserved for me. 

I reached for my coffee without looking; my brain needed more caffeine. I’d spent months on this master thesis, and yet for some reason, the notion of vampires was such a struggle. I didn’t understand the fear of those who lived back then. The origins of bloodsuckers were chaotic, the “treatments” laughable and still, people were willing to kill their own offspring over such nonsensical superstitions. Cold drops of stale roast hit my lips in a harsh reminder that I’d finished my previous dose. I sighed heavily and dropped the cup to the wooden surface of my table. Eyes closed, I laced my fingers around my neck and drew my elbows together to stretch my spine. Coffee. I need more coffee.

“Having trouble?”

A man’s baritone, smooth as whiskey interrupted my thoughts. My body jolted at his leisurely tone, and I nearly tumbled off the chair as my eyes snapped open to view the intruder. Sitting across from me was anything but a man; I was in the presence of divine artistry, two breathtaking orbs of gray-washed sky centered below auburn curls that adorned his perfectly symmetrical face. A sharp nose pointed to his strong jaw, while an amused smirk tugged at the corner of lips that I’m certain could send even a nun to her bedroom for self-maintenance. He wore a crisp, pinstripe suit, the buttons of his dress shirt undone sinfully low, revealing a smattering of additional curls. 

My oversized turtleneck sweater and leggings suddenly felt subpar.

“The name’s Walker,” he mused further, gesturing a large hand toward the empty paper tumbler that was now lying on its side. “What were you drinking?”

“I--I um,” I fumbled with my words, embarrassed by my sudden inability to form a proper sentence. “I had a flat white? With two extra shots of espresso.”

The man named Walker had the cup in his hand and was out of his chair before I could blink; he was already ordering another coffee by the time I managed to process his intentions. I watched him hand the barista a bill I couldn’t see, but by the shocked expression on her face at the man’s declination of the change, it must have been a sizable amount. He sat down at the table again and stared at my chest unabashedly, making it clear he wasn’t just looking but imagining as well.

I should have been offended or felt objectified, but instead I felt drawn into his gaze.

“Having trouble?” He asked again, gesturing this time at my laptop.

“How long were you sitting there?” I blurted out, still too flummoxed to answer his question. Walker laughed and I swear, time stood still. Never in my life had I heard something so beautiful.

“Long enough.”

His reply was short and cryptic, a dismissal of my burgeoning curiosity. The barista chose that moment to bring two orders of coffee to the table, offering both of them to Walker by mistake. I took in her awestruck countenance, and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that if my face matched hers I’d sink to the floor and die of shame. That notion shook me from my stupor and I was finally able to address his question.

“It’s my master thesis,” I explained, taking a sip of the scalding liquid he handed me. “I’m a History major, with an emphasis in mythology and folklore.”

I took another sip and tapped my phone, large numbers greeting me on the screen. Numbers that told me I was extremely late.

“Oh my god I have to go, I’m so sorry!” I apologized, scrambling to pack my things. In my haste I knocked my drink off the table. Resignation sunk in deep, submission to the knowledge of further humiliation at the impending spill. None came however, as Walker caught the drink in his hand before it crashed to the dark tiles.

“Thank you,” I murmured, gawking at him in bewilderment. Who was this man?

“It’s my pleasure,” he said, standing to help me collect the remainder of my books. “I’m interested in your thesis, could we perhaps discuss it over dinner? I don’t want to keep you from your next engagement.”

“I—” I stared at him, his face open and inviting. I’d been asked out before, but never this abruptly, and never by someone who looked and behaved like him. It sounded like an adventure…or a good story to tell on girls’ night at least.

“You know what, sure. Why not?”

I scribbled my number onto a napkin and slid it his way, grabbing the rest of my gear and heading toward the door. As I pushed against the hard metal, Walker’s large fingers caught my wrist, wrapping around it like ivy wraps around a lamppost. They were cool to the touch and yet somehow, my entire body immediately felt heated.

“We forgot first names,” he chuckled, “I’m August.”

I grinned sheepishly, pulling my arm from his surprisingly firm grip. The clank of the metal door handle resonated with the introduction I threw over my shoulder as I left the warmth of the shop and the handsome man behind.

“Amber.”

It took August a full week to call me. I felt like a fool; Did I leave on a poor note? Had I offended him somehow? Did he simply decide to change his fucking mind? I was kicking myself for saying yes; how could I have agreed to go on a date with a complete stranger? Now that I was no longer in his flustering presence, I began to see reason again. I knew nothing more than this man’s name, and the fact that he was more than likely rich. He could be a cold-blooded killer for all I knew, and I had every intention of telling him off.

I was in my apartment when he called. Still stuck on my thesis, I was currently unable to determine how best to explain the theory behind the sexual appeal of vampires. In my frustration, I hung upside down over the side of my bed, reading a book that discussed the many different works of literature revolving around vampirical romanticism and hoping the blood rushing to my brain would help me ascertain how to go about my explanation. The book was written by two authors who essentially argue the whole time, one of them convinced that the human fascination with vampires stems from the cannibalistic nature of bloodsucking or that it alluded to other bodily fluids such as semen, whereas the other stood firm in his belief that it held a much simpler cause; it was nothing more than the presence of oral fixation and sadism that caused the fantasy to plant its seed.

My phone vibrated but I ignored it, too engrossed in my book to be bothered with answering. I was so close… the answer was right there, it just continued to escape me. It wasn’t until my phone vibrated a second time to notify me of a voicemail that I put the pages down and picked up the electronic device.

The moment I heard August excusing his delay in calling to a work emergency, I immediately sat up and hit redial. There was something in his voice that made my heart quicken and my pulse race; it made the hair on my arms stand on end. I regretted sitting up so fast as it rang, the blood surrounding my brain draining quickly into the rest of my body. August answered on the second ring.

“Hi, Amber.”

“I—hi.”

I rolled my eyes then flinched in pain, congratulating myself sarcastically on how pathetic that response sounded with a slap of my palm to my forehead.

“Please, allow me to apologize again for waiting so long to call,” August insisted, seemingly unphased by my lack of vocabulary. “I still intend to take you to dinner, that is if you haven’t written me off completely.”

“No it’s fine, I totally get it,” I assured him. I had completely forgotten my earlier annoyance. He had explained it after all, and it could happen to anyone.

“Perfect. I’ll send a car tonight then, at seven. Wear something revealing please, I wasn’t able to see that pretty little neck of yours last time.”

My insides shook with an unexpected pang of shocked arousal at August’s request. The sexual confidence saturating his tone had me instantly reduced to nothing more than a deep desire for him to drag me to my knees by my hair. Why I wasn’t offended by the dominantly abrupt way this man spoke to me, I’ll never know. I put on the best flirty air I could manage in my stupor.

“I think I can manage that. Might have to charge you though.”

August laughed for the second time since I’d known him and I smiled, proud that I’d caused such a melodious sound to grace this earth.

“I like your spirit; you’re gonna be fun. I’ll see you tonight.”

“I—okay bye,” I managed to say before he hung up. I stared at my phone stupidly, as though I thought he was going to call again. Instead, the large clock face glared up at me like it always does, an ever present reminder that I live on a different plane of time than the rest of the world. I fell back on the bed, thinking about the man named August.

He likes my spirit? I hadn’t really shown him much, I’d been unable to do anything but stammer and trip over my words like a schoolgirl would when confronted by the cutest jock at school. What could he possibly see in me? The woman I truly was, the one I knew was underneath the bumbling idiot finally answered me. You’ve got three hours, Amber. Show him what you’re made of.

Resolve set in, and I bounced off the bed and walked toward my closet. For whatever reason, he’d chosen me, so I was going to let my confidence in that thought override all the self-doubt that was threatening to surface. I pulled my favorite dress from the hanger and set out to work. He wanted revealing? Then revealing is what he’d get, but I was going to do it my way.

The car was punctual, though I was less so. I scrambled to put diamond studs in my ears while being driven to some unknown location, my nerves making my hands shake. Once again, the notion that I could be driving to my death crept up my spine, but I brushed it off. Rich men send cars, it’s what they do. And I am an intelligent woman, I wouldn’t let myself be put in that situation.

Would I?

Touching the final stroke of Red Wine lipstick on my lips, I pulled my loose curls over my shoulder to expose my neck and put my things in my vintage black clutch, staring out the window at the ancient building that housed the most expensive club in town. I was suddenly grateful I’d chosen such a fancy dress. I fidgeted with the soft hem of the sleeve at my wrist, drawing it back and forth between my fingers while I waited for the driver to come to a stop.

I saw August there waiting, looking sharp as ever in another expensive three-piece suit, buttons undone just as low as the first time. This time however, I felt much better matched to his attire, and my confidence rose right next to my excitement. August came down the steps to open the door and I took his hand, hiking the burgundy velvet up to my thigh so that I could exit the car smoothly. The heavy fabric dropped to the ground the moment I freed it from my grasp, allowing August to study how I’d chosen to honor his request.

August drank in my covered form, taking in the way my dress hugged my curves and accentuated what it needed to. His eyes darkened as they lingered on the single large triangular section of bare skin that started at my shoulders and came to a point between my breasts, and I watched his tongue dart out of his mouth softly. He looked downright hungry. August stepped closer, fingertips grazing the flesh on my collarbone before he fastened his grip onto my nape and inhaled the hair at my temple deeply, pressing his lips to my ear.

“You are simply mouthwatering,” he growled, low and possessive. His hand released my neck and slid down to the small of my back, sending a shiver down my spine. My insides quivered at his touch, fragrant drops of dew pooling rapidly in the flimsy lace that guarded my mound from potential intruders.

“You wanted to see my ‘pretty little neck’,” I teased his earlier arrogance, lifting my skirt to traverse the steps leading inside, “I thought I’d frame her for you, give her the spotlight.”

August cocked an eyebrow at me in amusement, sensing my challenge. His fingers dug into my hip a little harder than necessary as he guided me through the establishment with nothing more than a nod to the hostesses. Apparent jealousy marred the face of one, and I thought I saw a hint of worry on the other. We were gone before the emotion could register in my mind.

I was escorted to a private booth in the upstairs of the establishment. While the first floor was crowded and full of people, the second floor was empty; August had requested it for our use alone. I could hear the hum of nightlife below, the haunting, non-lyrical melody of a soft alto wafting over the balcony as we walked past, the whispered promise of an enchanting night. A few tables and chairs were strategically placed on the floor, hugged by back-to-back rounded booths on either wall. Light ethereal curtains hung on either side of them, offering privacy from the guests who would typically sit in the next box over. August led me to the corner booth nearest the balcony so that we could look upon the stage if we chose.

“Our table, milady,” he joked, leaving a wet kiss on the back of my hand. Though the charade was seemingly in jest, it could not have been farther from it. His piercing eyes never left mine and I gasped at the feel of his brazen tongue on my skin. The suggestion of what he could do with it hung thick in his gaze, lacing the air with the succulent first tendrils of decadent tension. Playing along, I took a sharp breath and curtsied. I stayed low as August stood to show him the appeal of my figure at this angle, tilting just my head to look up at him. He stood there, head held high like a king, and the smile I received at my display was downright sinful.

“What a treat you are,” he murmured, cupping my chin briefly. My breasts swelled as I stood, consenting August the claim to chivalry by way of settling me into the alcove. He swept my hair over my shoulder again, trailing a single finger down my neck in admiration before taking his own seat. My insides were nothing but a pile of kindling, and every touch he gave was a spark that threatened to ignite the dry leaves into a burning flame of need.

The courses came and went just like those moments, every phrase emphasized with physical intimacy of some kind, whether it be just a gossamer brush of his fingers on my ear or an intentional grasping of my hand. He went as far as to boldly stroke the back of his knuckle along my cleavage, making me dizzy with desire. Each touch was avaricious—like he owned me—and I had zero qualms about letting him.

We ate our fill, but August made no move to leave the comfort of our small corner. With the noise of people below dulled by the far reaches of our seclusion, it was easy to converse. I told him more about my master thesis and the Pijavica, how they could read minds and enjoyed the power of persuasion, how they were impervious to all but decapitation, and how only their offspring could kill them. He listened intently, sharing tales of his own career. It was how I discovered that he was a doctor.

“I don’t practice anymore though, I prefer to study and learn. Specifically, I’m attracted to tears.”

“Tears?” That struck me as odd; it wasn’t often you came across someone who had such a unique field of study. “Why tears?”

August swirled the whiskey in his glass and downed it abruptly. He subtly indicated to our attendant for another before continuing his explanation.

“I’ve always had a fascination for the small things, things that people don’t seem to think matter; the mind-body connection, you know? For example,” he brushed a thumb over my cheekbone, “Did you know that the cellular structure of tears looks different based on the type of tear?”

August cupped my neck with both of his hands, tilting my head this way and that, his calm features set in measured focus as he spoke.

“Basal, reflexive, emotional... they all look different.”

I closed my eyes, letting him caress my skin. August’s touch was intoxicating, addicting. Even his scent was an aphrodisiac to my senses. I couldn’t get enough of it, lured ever closer to his sturdy frame, letting him manipulate my body how he saw fit. He nuzzled my hair, his soft spoken words dripping with lust into my ear.

“In fact,” he went on, “Even among those categories they differ, dependent on the stimuli.”

I could feel his breath on my neck, his lips surrounding the pulsepoint in my veins as he spoke, my jaw his destination. A hand snuck under my skirt, skimming along my trembling skin toward the seeping treasure that awaited him at the end of his journey. I spread my legs willingly, inviting him into my deepest of secrets. August hummed as he went on, sending spirals of tingling vibrations through my chest.

“The sting of onions, the sadness of grief… the satisfaction of overwhelming pleasure.”

“August…” I breathed, but my voice was severed as August simultaneously laid claim to my mouth and my womb. Thick fingers penetrated me in the same moment as his probing tongue, and it was in that moment I knew I was lost; August Walker could pull everything from me and I wouldn’t care; I’d want it, need it. He had spent all night teasing me, testing me, manipulating me and filling me with nothing but a desire for more, leaving me empty and wanting. He had succeeded, I now craved him above all else in this world.

August lifted my skirts, hoisting me with little effort to straddle his lap and I cried out in shock. The sound of my sudden impalement on the thick steel of his manhood was camouflaged by the crowd of people below; no one heard the echo of carnal awakening that sang through the air. When had he undressed? I bit my lip as he sank deeper into my core until the salty bitterness of copper and iron stung my chin. August’s eyes fell to the red droplet, darkening until the only color left in his pale irises was the very absence of light. With a hideous growl he ravaged my mouth, tasting every inch of my bruised lips with the hunger of an animal that’s been caged for far too long.

Thrill and terror tangled themselves in my mind, weaving an intricate web of wanton desire inside of me as August took me right there in the booth. Time itself seemed to halt, the room disappeared. Were we still in the club? Was it still the dead of night? Did I still require oxygen to breathe? Or was my life source now August’s touch, the light in my very soul dependent upon his kiss?

I didn’t notice when we left, nor when we arrived at a house that overlooked the city. I didn’t notice the lock on the basement door, or the fresh garden in the yard. I didn’t notice the continual rising and setting of the sun. I didn’t notice when I grew hungry, nor when I grew tired. I didn’t notice, not anything but passion, need, and desperation.

I didn’t notice.

Sleep drained from my limbs slowly. I awoke to black silk caressing my skin, dim sunlight shining through the wall, diffused by a covering of clouds that hung in the sky. It confused me that it was coming through the entire wall, until I realized that said wall was simply one large window, and the room I found myself in was built into the rock of an obsidian cliff overlooking the city. The room was minimally decorated in dark tones that coordinated with the nature outside, save for a striking, golden painting of a woman crying on the far wall. I clearly wasn’t home, and last night’s events slowly returned to the forefront of my mind.

August.

August was, without a doubt, the most attentive lover I’d ever had. Memories of his lips, his scent, his god-like physique that was surely carved from marble entertained my thoughts, returning my mind to the pleasure I’d never experienced in my life. Chills ran up and down my skin, alighting in wonder as my hand drifted to my sex. My fingers found my petals, swollen from overuse, aching in the dull agony of satisfaction. I stroked them gently, soothing the pleasant tenderness, moaning softly as the blood rushed to swell my clit once more, my other hand slipping beneath the silk to join in the heavenly edging torment.

A sharp, sudden sting at the brush of my inner thigh caused me to cry out, my hands snatching away from their play. I sat up, peering beneath the sheets to discover a semi-circle of divots cut into my leg. Is that a… a bite mark? I pulled at the skin and felt the dried blood crack, a small pinprick of new red seeping through the scab. I lunged from the bed to stand in front of the full-length mirror in the corner and look for other signs or markings, but what I found made me gasp.

Bruises peppered my neck, chest, hips and thighs. A few other crescents were scattered amongst them, standing out against the dark patches that shaded my skin. I took a physical inventory then, feeling the soreness in my jaw from being stretched by his cock, the ache of my neck from having my hair pulled, the shaky feeling of muscular fatigue in my legs from being tensed by orgasm after orgasm. I thought I detected a slight sheen on my skin, but I couldn’t tell if that was from the tremulous bliss of a satisfying fuck, or if it was the sweat and oil caused by said satisfying fuck. Either way, I looked happy and content. I grabbed August’s dress shirt from the floor and threw it on as I left the room to explore.

The bedroom led to a hallway, the wall to my left still nothing but expansive glass that showed off the impressive view. On the other side were large, black and white abstract prints, hung evenly spaced against dark panels. To the left of each was a shadow box with an ornate glass vial inside; each bottle was thin, no longer than my palm and differing in design from the others. Tiny, intricate patterns were painted on the outsides in white, blue, and gold, and gold stoppers sealed each one. When I entered the main room, I discovered a curio cabinet that housed at least a hundred of them, and I leaned in to look at how varied each one was.

“Victorian tear catchers,” August’s voice was suddenly behind me and I whirled sharply, startled. He chuckled at my alarm and I laughed with him, enjoying that glorious sound.

“They’re beautiful,” I murmured, turning back to look at the delicate glass. August pulled me against his naked chest, nosing my hair and kissing my neck.

“Yes you are,” he whispered, earning an eye roll from me. August chuckled and opened the cabinet.

“Would you like one?”

“Really?”

I looked at him, stunned. He simply nodded his head in the direction of the vials and I examined them, selecting one that had a white pattern on it that looked like lace.

“Mmm, a good choice. Perhaps I can collect tears of ecstasy for you,” August whispered. The thrill of what he was implying awakened my senses, and I let him lead us slowly back toward the bedroom. I felt like teasing him, so I delayed a bit by asking about the art on the wall.

“What are those?” I pointed to the first print, a cross-hatching pattern that looked like it was made of sewing pins.

“Those are tears of grief,” he stated, stopping in front of each as he walked me gradually down the hall.

“A yawn,” he said of the next, a white background with dark, fern-looking splatters. August traced his mouth along my jaw, his hand dipping beneath the button of his shirt to play with the sensitive nipples he had rediscovered. I keened as he continued shifting us toward the kitchen, struggling to keep my composure. The next print was a much darker gray, and it looked like it was covered in snowflakes.

“Any guesses?” August asked, mouthing my earlobe in tandem with the flick of his thumbs over my hardened nubs. I whimpered, my knees weak in his lustful embrace.

“Uhm… cold air?” I rasped as he sucked on my neck. August chuckled through his nose, the vibrations of his voice rippling through my chest to connect with his teasing fingers.

“Onions.”

“Yeah okay.”

I tilted my head so that I could kiss him, but suddenly the thought of onions turned my stomach. I lurched, pulling away and gagging slightly. Instead of concern, August smiled knowingly, seemingly unbothered by my retching.

“I see morning sickness has set in. It’s a little early and I had hoped you’d be able to avoid it, but alas, that’s not the case.”

My head swam suddenly, confusion mutilating all thought. I backed away from him.

“Morning what? What are you talking about?”

August took a step toward me, placing a hand on my belly and lacing his fingers in the hair at my nape.

“Women always taste better after they’ve conceived. And I can keep them longer; they make much more blood when they’re host to a fetus.”

I pushed against him, turning away and vainly attempting to process his words. Pregnant? Taste better? Blood? My eyes focused on a card I hadn’t noticed earlier in the shadow box, a single word printed on it.

Bridgette

“Isn’t it ironic,” August mused, tracing my collarbone with a thick finger, “That five weeks ago, you had a chance encounter with the very thing you’ve been studying for months, and now you carry his child.”

The room spun. I couldn’t think; my brain refused to process the nonsense he spoke.

“Five—five weeks?! No that’s not possible, our date was last night!”

“It’s more than possible, sweet morsel. Think about it.”

Bile rose thick and acrid in my throat then, threatening to spill. Memories and time started filtering into my mind, replacing the fog with everything I’d lost. The last puzzle piece clicked into place, confusion all but disappeared and I was left with nothing but the cold, terrifying truth. Pijavica. Vampire. Monster.

I’d fallen into the clutches of a monster.

I did the only thing I could think of; I slapped him as hard as I could and took off through the house, ignoring the sharp pain of a chunk of hair remaining in his hand. My heart pounded in my chest, desperate to be free of this sudden nightmare. I slammed into the front door and grabbed the handle, a strangled sob catching in my throat when it wouldn’t open.

I rattled the door knob, panic consuming every fiber of my being. Suddenly, it wasn’t just my life I was fighting for; apparently there was a life inside of me that needed protecting. The child of a Pijavica that was depending on me to escape, so that he could come back and kill his father. I have to get out. I gave up on the door in anger, spinning around and looking for another way.

“Do you know why I chose you?”

I heard August’s voice again, but he was nowhere to be seen. His voice came louder, penetrating my mind. I have to keep moving.

“It was because of your name; they match your eyes.”

I whimpered at his words, sneaking my head around a corner to survey the living space for some form of an exit.

“Amber has a historical application, you see,” he went on, louder. I dashed over the floor, desperate to be gone from him. Door after door remained locked, and my terror grew with each attempt. Every now and then I could hear August, whether it be a rustle of fabric or the knock of his foot on the wooden floor. The scholar in me knew that it was on purpose, that he was luring his prey, giving chase to his food, and yet my rational mind refused to take charge. I was being led by my flight response, and his jarring monologue wasn’t helping.

“Throughout history, whenever a goddess cried it was typically tears of amber, save for the goddess Freya, who cried gold. You met her in the bedroom.”

His laughter echoed through the dark walls of his lair, and chilled me to my core. It was no longer a beautiful sound, but grating and horrible. I was nothing but a petty human to play with, some toy that he could eat when he tired of me. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I came to the last door. Dear God, please let this one open. To my utter relief, the door swung wide and I was met with stairs. Stairs went down, and we were on a cliff. Down was good. Down meant freedom.

I clambered down the steps and flung open the door at the bottom, stumbling into the room and falling to the floor in horror and fear. There in front of me, was nothing but mirrors. A maze of mirrors, each one showing me my trembling features, mocking me, letting me know just how fucked I was. I turned back, intending to go back up the stairs and try another way, but August’s silhouette stood at the top, preventing me from going back into the house. I heard a scream and realized it was my own.

Scrambling off the floor, I took off into the maze, blinded by my tears.

“Each of those girls made it this far you know,” August taunted. I heard the slam of the door and nearly choked as I ran. “You’ll die in this room, just like they did.”

His nonchalance, his continual unconcern about chasing me, his arrogance that he would no doubt catch me made me so angry. I raced from path to path, growing ever more frantic every time I reached a dead end. I didn’t even know if this room had an exit, I just knew I had to keep moving. I tripped over something as I rounded a corner, screaming when I saw what it was.

“I see you found Bridgette,” August chuckled, and I looked up from the skeleton to see his hideous face marred with a sinful sneer. I gasped and took off again, turning this way and that. Hitting another dead end, I doubled back and ran smack into August’s broad torso. He caught me and held me close as I screamed, ripping his shirt from my body. He spun me around, pinning my wrists between my back and his belly, trailing his fingers languidly over my naked frame in an inspection of his handiwork. My jaw was gripped in an iron vice and August forced my gaze to the mirror.

“Do you see what I see?” he mocked. I could only stare in horror, for nothing but my own terrified expression stared back at me.

August had no reflection.

“Out of all the patterns in the world, do you know which tears are my favorite?” August continued to torment. He inhaled my hair deeply, snaking his tongue along the length of my cheek, tasting the stains my tears had left in their wake.

“Fear.”

I heard August growl as I fought against him, his iron grasp caging me against his cool skin, more of the cursed moisture pooling in my eyes. Glassy drops fell, retracing a new path toward my chin but August just kissed them away, shoving me to the floor when my knees buckled of their own accord. He let go of my hands to fidget with his slacks, pulling me back toward him every time I tried to crawl away as a parent would to a petulant child. On the third attempt he snapped my knee, a scream tearing from my throat in my woeful submission to his desire.

Finally free of his clothes, August lifted my hips, lining his rigid cock up against my sweat-soaked folds. He dove into my treasure without care, forcing his way into the depths of my belly, stretching and tearing my walls until he was fully sheathed. Strong arms wrapped around me again, and I felt two sharp points prick the junction of my neck and shoulder. I cried out and thrashed in fierce protest, knowing that small pinch was just a warning of oncoming pain.

August’s teeth punctured my skin easily, shredding muscle and sinew until they hit bone. I howled in pain as I watched blood drip from the wound, a familiar crescent shape joining its brothers on my body. Searing heat shot through my neck with his first draw of thick plasma; the violent removal of blood causing an intense burn that I felt all the way down to my injured leg. August released my neck and I clapped a hand over the fresh wound.

I looked over my shoulder at him; his head was tilted down, mouth still full of my blood; the lack of a reflection behind him unsettling to my senses. August opened his wicked maw slowly, dark scarlet trickling from his lips onto the junction where my hips met his, run through by his sword. He looked up at me with a nasty grin, bloodstained fangs curdling my stomach. I closed my eyes and turned away as he swiped a hand through the mess. His fingers penetrated my core alongside his cock, deaf to my sobbing objections.

“You’d better open your eyes, pet… This needy little cunt is dripping, I’d hate for you to miss it.”

August emphasized his sick joke by grasping my hair, shoving my head to the floor, forcing me to look once more into the polished glass. My desperate wails for mercy were all that kept me grounded as I watched him thrust, my battered hole be stretched beyond capacity. Nothing but empty space plundered my core, crimson air bruising the very place within me that only just last night had been treated with such tenderness and care. Not last night. His slick fingers found my mouth and violated it effortlessly; no amount of pressure I could apply would break through his tough skin.

“God, you look so beautiful.”

August pulled me up and took to my neck with fervor, latching onto the broken sliver of skin like a leech. The more he drank, the weaker I became, until there was no resistance left within me. I could see the color drain from my bloody face, I could see black slowly creep into my vision, but I was powerless to stop it. August was in charge, he held my entire existence in his hands, and he intended to extinguish it. I closed my eyes again, accepting my fate.

I was going to die.

One of my favorite places to visit is a small outdoor cafe, very near the coffee shop where I met Amber. Mmmm. Amber. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of that tantalizing woman.

She lasted so much longer than all the others, you know. I was able to feed off of her nearly three full months as she hung there in my basement, until the last drop of her tantalizing nectar was finally extracted. She smelled of carraway and saffron, tasted of sweet mulled wine, and with the rich, heady, piquancy of her fertile womb seasoning each sinew, every inch of her opulent flesh begged to be consumed. I must admit, I should have dispatched of her sooner, but fascination overtook my curious mind as her own was consumed by insanity.

First it was freedom she asked for, and then death. Sometimes she would beg to speak to her mother one last time. But by the end, she only asked for one thing.

“Please,” she would whisper, “Please… Cover the mirrors. Just cover the mirrors.”

She asked so nicely, but how on earth could I hide such beauty? Her tears were just as rare, you see. They hold a beauty unmatched by any of the others that hang on my walls. I’ve never seen such a fear pattern like hers; it is more exquisite than the dawn of a misty spring day in the countryside, more beautiful than a woman at the height of euphoria. And they way they sparkled against her skin, lustrous tracks that wound down her temples and through her hair, glinting in the mirrors with each slow rotation of her inverted body... well, it was as if I was living among the stars. Adding her ashes to my garden was such a shame.

I sat at that little cafe, eyes closed, viewing the world through my enhanced scent. Each drop of bitter coffee, the pollen of a nearby bee, the oil in the bike chains of two clumsy humans as they rolled past; each note and fragrance alerting me to its owner. A familiar scent reached my nose and I turned my head sharply, focusing on it.

Carraway… Saffron.

I smiled softly, opening my eyes to greet the woman that now sat at my table. The honey irises that had intrigued me all those months ago met mine and I chuckled low.

“Amber.”

Read on AO3.

[everything-laito]

hey,,, i've seen this controversial opinion about laito not being sexually assaulted by cordelia. . .as the only opinion of laito that matters, what are your thoughts on it? i know you've made some posts in the past about cordelia and laito's relationship, but i think that now would be a good time to i guess, remake a post or clarify your thoughts so people could follow along?? i hope you enjoy your day.

*proceeds to crack all my knuckles at once*

This isn't really my own "response" cuz oh boy I'm sick of this petty ass drama lmao. To begin, SKLDJF I'm very flattered that you hold my opinion in that high of regard! I'd say there's others that have interesting interpretations of him too though :) but again, thank you :') glad you enjoy what I have to say!

I know I've already kinda responded to this via a screenshot here, just to hold you––and others reading this––over. As much as this is a great time to talk about a how-to-analysis, I’ll still put that as a separate post eventually, but I still will go over the philosophy of truth and writings etc. But anyways, to answer your initial questions, they’re under the cut!

And no, I’m not specifically calling anyone out here. These are just issues with the fandom that I find as a whole, along with some extremists. Thus, I’m not going to be putting tags for people to easily find this post because I don’t want to be wound up in this drama––once again this is just more commentary on the fandom as a whole, which hopefully you can apply to people you find!

I have a lot of my own thoughts about Cordelia and Laito’s relationship here (just in case if people need it):

1. Goes over potential grooming of Laito, facts about Cordelia and what happened before she did stuff to Laito, and when did she rape Laito for the first time?

2. Stuff about incest and how any relationship out of a parental/child relationship is abuse even if it’s not penetrative sex, more incest stuff, and just more thoughts on their relationship

3. Neuroplasticity, trauma, Karlheinz, and isolation

4. What does sexual trauma look like? And some stuff on Laito’s facade

5. More stuff on his facade, and projection on Yui

6. My thoughts on Laito’s dark fate vampire ending + Conclusion

7. Answering some inbox stuff relating to Cordelia

Sure I realize I might be missing some stuff but that’s just my whole analysis on them. I’ll probably make some follow up posts eventually but I’m not sure when that will be.

But as for this analysis/ramble, I’ll divide it up into sections:

The issue of hypocrisy in the Dialovers fandom:

I- oh dear god. Ok, just saying, there’s a lot of people being like “oh I hate Cordelia because she was abusive” then ??? yo??? Why do you like the boys?? They’re abusive and we see more of them than Cordelia??? I just personally hate hypocrisy. However, it’s okay to hate Cordelia! It’s okay to love Cordelia! It’s okay to hate the boys and it’s okay to love the boys too. But recognizing that you don’t like one or the other just because “they’re abusive” is a fallacy at that point.

The reason why so many people hate Karlheinz/Cordelia/Beatrix/Christa/Richter (or at least start off hating them) is because they are written as the villains of the story! Karl’s the main villain, and the rest (including the diaboys and Yui) are kinda just tragically wound up in his plans. You sympathize more with the boys because you spend more time with them and watch them grow! It’s a whole “us vs them” situation. Since those people were awful to the boys/the boys hate them, you’re like “yeah they’re bad!” But the issue with the whole “us vs them” situation (as in real life) is that people tend to excuse the actions done by the “us” party.

Same thing goes with extreme Karl/Cordelia/Richter fans (I’ve never seen a hardcore Beatrix/Christa fan but they’re probably out there). Some hate the diaboys but love the people in that party. They’ve also done some shitty stuff too! Bro, even Yui has done some terrible stuff! But that’s because she was a product of the events she was thrown into––and same with everyone else.

Karl has been the mastermind of all this, and for me I don’t have any sympathy for him, mainly because we’re not shown anything to sympathize with (except that he just is tired of living but idk why he wants to create a whole new race like lmao science nerd ig, I feel that king). A lot of people like him for his looks, and I’m not saying that’s a bad thing––he’s a fictional character, objectify these characters however you want. This is more of a personal opinion of mine though. And maybe people do just sympathize with his outlook on life, that’s totally fine.

But since these characters are all attractive in their own regard, they all get the treatment of “pretty-boy” syndrome (Idek if that’s the exact name for it). Which is just the privilege pretty people get. But again, this is fictional, so it’s not necessarily important in this case. Bro I got into DL cuz of “ooga booga hot vampires” and stayed for the complex lore and characters (especially one complex character, wonder who that could be). I imagine most people got into DL because of that, or out of sheer curiosity.

Ok, I’m throwing out a lot of points but not really connecting them. Lemme give you an example: I don’t like Reiji. His character doesn’t vibe with me most of the time aside from the fact that he’s hilarious. But I just am very neutral/neutral-negative on his character. But I’m not like “oh cuz he’s mean/abusive” cuz LOL EVERYONES MEAN IN THIS GAME. Sure you can still say that, it’s just not a very strong claim. Hypocritical claims tend to be like that. Same with a lot of Yui haters. In this case, they’re more jealous that she’s there and not them, which I’ve explained a lot in this post about toxic femininity and Yui in the fandom etc. But it’s ok to just not like a character! It’s alright! I know someone who just doesn’t vibe with Subaru. She doesn’t know why, she just doesn’t vibe with him. There’s no need to defend it either. But the use of hypocrisy is my main issue, and I’ll get to that in the next section.

(There’s a really good post explaining this too but I cannot find it for the life of me. I think it was made by @/abottleofkarlheinz or @/the-madame21)

How opinions of fictional universes left unchecked can effect real life:

I’ve said this a little bit in that Dialover PSA post I’ve made about Yui that I linked a couple paragraphs ago. But the reasons why people say they hate Yui is concerning. If you don’t like Yui, that’s totally fine! Again you don’t need reasons to hate on a character or defend it. But if you do choose to defend those characters, make sure what you’re saying isn’t out of some other place in your heart. Let me explain.

In that “Yui PSA” post I made, I say how your attitudes in being critical of a fictional universe usually does reflect on who you are as a person, at least when you’re making certain claims. In that Yui post, I say that the hatred on Yui is a result of the “other girl” mentality. On top of that, it erases her experience as a survivor. Yes, this is a fictional character, but bringing that into real life can have some dire consequences if you don’t differentiate them. If you have the same attitude of Yui with other survivors if the “abuser is hot” then thaaaaaat’s so fucked up.

For example, there’s people who have crushes on real life serial killers! That- that’s absolutely disgusting! Those real people killed living people and effected so many lives and families. Dude I have fictional crushes on fictional serial killers, and that’s different, because it is a removed universe. It’s why I can still call myself a lesbian but still have crushes on fictional male characters, for a further example (and vice versa! I have straight friends who crush on fictional characters of their same gender! But that doesn’t make them any less straight. And no, I’m not erasing bi people here either, just clarifying in case if you needed that).

Not being able to differentiate your opinions of a fictional universe can get very toxic. Like I love Laito, but I’m not like “omg I wish he was real so he could do that stuff to me uwu” like no!!! UH!!! I wouldn’t want to date anyone like him in real life! That’s literal abuse! And if Laito was here in real life it’s not a controlled environment, he’d literally be able to do anything with you, etc. That’s what makes a fantasy, a fantasy. They’re controlled.

Also vice versa, some people get really triggered by Dialovers, specifically Laito’s route. A lot of non-consensual acts that he does have been experienced by people in real life in any extent, myself included. For me, it’s a personal escape from that, because it is an environment where I am prepared for those events and can control my exposure to it. For some, they are reminded of the reality they had to experience. Fictional universes are inspired by real life, no matter what way you look at it. Real life people are making it, after all.

I feel like I’m going in so many circles, but trust me, I’m getting to the point.

I- I can’t explain this enough but it is most definitely implied that Cordelia had raped and sexually abused Laito. If it was explicit, DL would be an 18+ game, but they cannot do that in Japan. I’m not going to like defend this point because so many people (myself included) have defended this point. It’s implications carry over into Laito’s character and why he’s like this. He’s a textbook sexual abuse survivor. I just,,,, cannot explain this enough. Same thing with overwriting the abuse of Yui. They get jealous of Yui. Sure I’d say a good chunk of people have ravishment fantasies here. At least the 18+ people in the fandom who are into that stuff. But oh my dear god, ravishment fantasies are super super dangerous to enact in real life. It’s possible to do them, but it would take years of building up to that point in kink. That’s a whole other discussion though and I’m not incredibly comfortable talking about it knowing that minors read my blog (I’ll also have to say here: no minors in kink--its alright to educate yourself but pleaaaaaaaaaase don’t enact on any of those activities until you are of age, and even so that still can be dangerous right as you turn 18).

But anyways, saying that Yui should enjoy this because she’s experienced the ravishment fantasy you’ve dreamed of? Oh fucking hell, if you leave that opinion and mentality unchecked and it goes into real life, that’s incredibly awful. Abuse apologists are absolutely terrible people, almost as much as the abusers themselves.

If you twist the narrative that Laito loves Cordelia or Yui loves the boys at the end of the first game, that’s still––ughhhhhhhh. Especially when it’s so obvious that Laito has so many mental issues with Cordelia. His whole monologue and breakdown at the end of Dark Fate definitely tells us that he has had such an issue with Cordelia. And MB+ Laito is still Laito. As for Yui, dude she literally goes through stockholm syndrome in the first game like it is so goddamn apparent idek how to explain this at this point.

Ok dear god lmao wow, uh I think that’s answering the first couple of questions?

The philosophy of truth:

“Truth” has been an incredibly debated topic in philosophy for years. Truth is more of a subjective item rather than objective. Sure you can have personal objective truths, but they may not be the same truths for others. For example, a tomato is red. However, that tomato is red to me, because I am not color blind. A red-green color blind person may see the tomato as being brown or more muted in color. That’s their truth. They can’t really imagine what red is (ok depending on severity of their color blindness), considering they have not experienced the color red in the same way people who don’t have color blindness do. God uh, here’s a whole ass essay about truth, I’m cherry picking some of the things in there that are relevant to this.

Basically what I’m saying is, truth is very subjective. However, there are philosophers arguing a more objective truth. But that’s a whole other discussion. Also, this isn’t to support any political opinion, but I can use that as an example. Let’s go for well... The death penalty. I’m in America, we have the death penalty in some states. Yes, this is a very controversial topic, and no I’m not arguing the ethics of it here. Just hear me out.

If you live in Europe for example (except in Belarus and Russia––ok when I looked it up they consider Russia in Europe and technically it is but also there’s the whole chunk that is not- lmao even the truth of geography can be subjective), you might be like “yeah what the fuck are Americans doing?” (a common sentiment that I also share lmao). But yeah, what the fuck are we doing? Why is the death penalty still in existence? Yes, there’s statistics that prove that it doesn’t deter crime, but even crime rates is caused by a lot of different things too. Even statistics aren’t always accurate, because of many different factors. They’re not objective either, although good statisticians try their best to get good results and not skew the data. (please try to see where your data is coming from and who it is sponsored by––it matters a TON)

I’d say the closest thing we have as an objective truth to argue the death penalty or not is money. Money, although the concept is subjective, is a very objective currency. It’s why artists hate “exposure” compared to “money” as sole currency. The death penalty is very expensive, and not even used that often.

So, although money is currency made by us, and is technically 75% linen and 25% cotton (in America at least) with some funky dudes n numbers printed on it, it doesn’t sound that special. However, it would be considered as a baseline of some type of “objective truth” in ~society~ because people are typically on the same page of what money’s worth. Even so, this baseline of truth is still subjective! If Bill Gates accidentally has a $20 bill fall out of his pocket, that’s nothing to him! But if someone who’s working very hard to make ends meet loses that same amount of money, it could deal a lot of financial damage to that person.

Ok, hopefully you guys kind of get my drift. There are a lot of theories of truth, I’m just explaining one (honestly I forget the name of this theory) because it is the closest to the types of truth we are dealing with. And in this case, it’s called “canon.”

What the fuck is analysis:

The concept of “canon” is the objective truth that we have when analyzing universes. They’re our bread and butter of interpretation and extrapolation. The art of analysis clings to this notion of an objective truth. It needs a baseline. I’m going off of Aristotle’s rhetorical triangle, because that type of analysis I have the most experience with.

This is called rhetorical analysis. Rhetoric is the use of words in a persuasive fashion, and the analysis part is a breakdown of how words are used in order to achieve persuasiveness. I don’t typically use a lot of explicit rhetorical analysis in my personal writings, but I guess a version of it. Which typically has to deal with intention and execution. A lot of analysis on language has to do with this. Language is incredibly subjective. Certain words carry individual meanings to people. I have gone over the difference between real and lexical definitions before, and I’ll do it again.

I’ll just copy and paste what I’ve said before here from this analysis:

To put it simply, lexical definitions are the definitions you find in the dictionary. This is an “official” and “agreed upon” definition. Real definitions (quite a misleading name in my opinion) is the definition that’s more kind of “felt” in a way and how you internally interpret the word in context (these can be through individuals or any niche group). What I mean by this is that when you say a word (for example) to convey a feeling, you usually won’t know the dictionary definition off the top of your head. You say that something’s “savage” for example when you want to describe something violent or gruesomely awesome (it depends if it’s in a slang context or not) but there’s many lexical definitions (and outdated lexical definitions) of the term. But the first definition that usually comes up is “adj (of an animal or force of nature) fierce, violent, and uncontrolled.”

But people typically don’t think of the lexical definition when they learn what a word means; they usually learn the context of it and apply it as such. And that’s what a “real” definition is. Laito has a differing definition of what affection and love is, and that’s his own meaning and what it means to him.

I’ll even add another example to that too. The word “cunt” in english refers to a vagina. That’s just it. It’s lexically synonymous with “vagina,” “pussy,” etc. However, “cunt” has a subjective meaning to it. This is where “real” definitions also come into play. Many people view the word as vulgar and dirty. And that’s cuz we live in a ~society~ lmao. Our use of language has shaped what this word means in a context outside of the dictionary. I’ll do you one more. The Japanese word マンコ (manko) is also vulgar slang that’s kind of like our word “cunt/pussy.” Sometimes I say “cunt” for jokes, but I don’t use it that often to begin with since it’s just a very strong word to most (albeit it’s not that strong of a word for me). However, マンコ is a strong word to many Japanese people, but if I hear it even though I’ve been learning Japanese, it doesn’t have that same effect as hearing “cunt” for me is (which still, idc if I really hear it depending on context) because I haven’t been shaped in a culture that uses Japanese.

Even so, tone, intention, and context is HUGE in this. If someone called me a “useless fucking cunt” when they’re angry at me, I’d be close to crying. If someone told that to me as a joke, I’d be like “lol yeah you right, bitchass” and if someone said that in a consensual sexual context, it would certainly tickle my masochistic heart.

DSLKFJ also sorry if you don’t like hearing that word, I just had to utilize a strong example for this. But anyways, now let’s change the lens to Dialovers.

No, it never explicitly says that Cordelia rapes Laito. It doesn’t. However, there’s this WACKY thing called being able to infer, reading between the lines, and identifying implications. Those are kind of all the same things. However, indirect exposition is used a lot in effective creative writing. The utilization of this type of exposition is more preferred when writing a story, because direct exposition is kind of referred to as “info-dumping” when used excessively. Forgive my jargon: this is just showing vs telling as we’re taught in every writing class. I’m personally very bad at it, which is why I stick to writing these, and stick to reading creative fiction. (NOT SAYING IF YOU’RE NOT GOOD AT THIS TO NOT CONTINUE TO PRACTICE CREATIVE FICTION, I JUST DONT HAVE THE CURRENT MOTIVATION TO GET GOOD AT IT)

Dialovers uses a LOOOOOT of showing. And even so, its “showing” ability is very minimal considering the Japanese language can be vague on its own, it’s medium (visual novel) does not show a lot of things explicitly most of the time (and even when it is shown it doesn’t convey a lot). There’s several CGs of Laito and Yui where it doesn’t show the amount of pain or the dire situation Yui’s in, compared to what she’s saying she’s going through.

When I made my whole breakdown on Laito’s HDB route from Yui’s perspective, I got several comments about how they didn’t realize how bad his route really was. That’s either because people might not have experience with verbal abuse themselves, can’t exactly see Yui’s body language except her head (and even so, her expressions are limited), or don’t know a lot of gaslighting/verbal abuse techniques/have done research into it. Honestly verbal abuse is kind of hard to realize, so I’m not calling anyone dumb here. Despite me knowing a lot of the signs, I didn’t know I went through it––and even so I’ve denied it. And that’s what is so effective about this game though! Especially Laito’s route! Because you’re also sucked in with limited knowledge because you’re seeing this through Yui’s perspective, and on top of that it’s isolating. You can only make so many choices, and I feel like Dialovers is perfect as a visual novel. You get caught up with a lot of shock value things that Laito says, which serves as a perfect distraction for your first time through. But anyways, I’m getting off track.

For example, many people found his Maniac 07 chapter to be very confusing. I broke that one down here as well, and even so I was confused at first (also I was like 14/15, dear god). It tells you SO little, but you know that Laito’s incredibly upset at Richter for some reason, and even so, Yui comments on it a little too. Laito is shown to still hate Richter in DF, but he talks about it a tad more.

Here’s a further example from my writings in that first part of the Cordelia/Laito analysis series but I have bolded the terms I use to convey this rhetoric:

There hasn’t been any flashbacks that specifically show us the first time that happened. However, I believe that there was a flashback in HDB that shows one of the first times. Here’s a scene from Laito’s Dark Epilogue:

Cordelia: ー Laito…Laito… Laito: …Hm? Is something the matter? Cordelia: I have a favor to ask. It just isn’t enough. You can do it, right Laito? Laito: You really are something…So that’s why you came to me again? Cordelia: Fufufu…That’s right, Laito. Come on, quickly… Laito: …Guess it can’t be helped. I’ll love you plenty. Cordelia: Aah…My cute Laito~ I love you. I really do. Laito: I can do it…right? Cordelia: Of course, Laito. Now, quickly…

First of all, ew. Second of all, Laito’s diction implies that this was maybe the second or third time this occurred. He asks a question, and ends it with “again.” We know by this that it is not the first time, but the question also means that Laito might not have expected to occur again. His tone also implies some surprise to it, at least in my ears. His other question, “I can do it, right?” screams hesitance to me. If this scene took place down the line, or after many times he did this with Cordelia, I don’t believe he’d be some level of surprised or hesitance.

That’s what rhetorical analysis is. You take the contextual meaning of the words, the tone they use, and extrapolate what they imply. On top of this, we know that the term “love” here is sexual, implying that they did something sexual. We are not given the details of this, but considering we know that Laito uses “love” before he rapes Yui in the game, we can infer that’s what happened (or something similar) to himself with Cordelia, considering he projects on Yui quite a bit.

I was going to go over what is good/bad analysis, but I think I’ve implied it anyways here. Utilizing separate information from different sources of canon in order to make sense of something is good analysis. That’s our objective truth: canon. I’m not saying I’m the best at analysis, but I am fairly confident in it. It’s how I’m able to attempt to answer some of your “how would Laito react” questions without it being specifically hinted in the game. You cannot cherry pick specific sentences and go off of that alone for analysis. It’s context. It’s reading tone. It’s knowing the characters attitudes towards things, how they speak, etc. There’s a lot going into analysis in general. I know I didn’t elaborate on Aristotle’s rhetorical triangle right now, but that’s for another date I suppose.

Oh dear god I hope I didn’t lose you guys, I know this is a lot of information, but if you have any questions/comments/clarifications, as always, please let me know!

Hope you enjoyed! -Corn

[the-insomniac-emporium]

thoughts on Bela///Donna?

What a lovely can of worms you've placed in my inbox, dear nonnie. I cannot wait to open it and lose followers (regardless of what I actually say).

Since this is, uh, a subject of some debate among RE8 fans, I will be inputting my thoughts on the idea of the ship (and the possible controversy), as opposed to doing HCs or something for it (which I recognize might be what you were asking for, despite the excessive /s).

This is all based on my playthroughs of the game, as well as what I've managed to double check on the fandom/wiki for it. I know that a lot of people who read fanfic for the game haven't actually played it, likely having been lured in by Tall Vampire Milf, and so I hope that some people will be open to a reminder of, like, canon vs fanon? I've mentioned in a previous post that there's a lot of details for RE8 that are not made clear, and I feel the need to reiterate that in this post. Capcom left a lot of stuff up to people's imaginations, or kind of just hinted at in game or in concept art.

But more importantly, regardless of what game we're talking about, regardless of the conclusion I come to (and the one you come to) at the end of this post, I want to say that I absolutely understand the need/desire to have your own perspective/take on the characters from the game, as well as their dynamics. If a ship makes you uncomfortable because you see the characters as being family members, it's totally okay. Block the ship tag, or filter it out when you look through fandom stuff, don't follow people who post for it, etc, etc.

If you think of characters as being family-family (like, not just "we got married and are now a family" but, like, "we're siblings/parent and child") and still ship them? uh. sorry, bruv, maybe think of hitting that unfollow button. No, seriously, hit that unfollow button. This blog is anti-incest, thank you very much.

The last thing I'll say before putting it under a read-more (for both length and major RE8 spoilers) is that I recognize that I might have missed something, either in game or developers talking about things on social media, and so if you read through this and go "god, J, you're such a dumbass for forgetting *critical piece of media*" or even just "okay but have you seen *small but meaningful piece of media*?" please. Just. Please. Tell me. Link me to that shit. I WANT to know if I'm wrong. I've literally avoided talking about this for as long as I could in order to TRY and make sure I have all the context I need.

With that said, let's examine what context we are given for Alcina Dimitrescu, Bela Dimitrescu, Donna Beneviento, and their relations to each other. I will be leaving my personal thoughts on Bela///Donna at the very end of this, as somewhat of a conclusion, somewhat of just a "hey, this is what you technically asked me about".

Firstly, let me begin by explaining what I consider to be the 3 tiers of "canon"

In-Game/Direct: The highest, truest tier, the definitive canon. This is everything that takes place in game, excluding certain hallucination scenes (ex: Mia was not really in House Beneviento, but we can infer some things from what Donna made Ethan hallucinate about). Things either happen, or are directly stated by characters. There's some wiggle room for dialogue, as characters can lie, but overall we, as the audience, assume we are being told the truth. At the very least, games usually eventually make it clear when a character has been dishonest. Examples of Direct Canon include the following: Ethan is infected with the mold, Lady Dimitrescu drinks blood, Heisenberg wears sunglasses, Mother Miranda can shapeshift.

Concept Art/Developer's Notes/Indirect: Mid-tier and debatable, the "we think, but we're not sure" of canon. Resident Evil: Village contains lots of concept art that the players can browse through, all of which include notes from the developers about the game, characters, environments, and story. Sometimes the notes make something "direct", but oftentimes they do not specify whether the listed idea is still canon or if it was removed during development. This tier also includes information that is implied/can be inferred from tier 1 information, but is not directly stated. Examples of Indirect Canon include the following: Donna's mother died by suicide, Moreau was going to have his lover fused to his back, Duke was originally a fifth lord, Heisenberg was going to have a twin. As you can see, not all of the concept art ideas made it into the final version of the game, so it can be hard when some information seems like it might still be true (such as the matter of Donna's parents).

Fanon/"False": Sometimes collective ideas in a fandom become so widespread that people start interpreting them as actual canon. Sometimes it gets hard to remember what's just obscure lore and what's fanon. When we get a piece of fiction as overall vague as a lot of Resident Evil: Village is, there's bound to be some confusion over time. That's one of the main reasons I waited to talk about Bela////Donna until after I had recently replayed relevant sections of the game, as I wanted to remind myself of what we're actually told. Examples of False Canon are difficult to pinpoint, but might include things like: Hufflepuffs are good at finding things? The Avengers got along for awhile and all had their own rooms in the tower? There's a number scale for the danger level of ghosts in Danny Phantom?

For this post, I will be limiting the majority of my notes to the first two levels of canon, and will do my best to mark them as such. Now... let us... begin.

Alcina Dimitrescu:

Born no later than 1914, Alcina Dimitrescu was 44 years old when she was granted the Cadou by Mother Miranda. (1st Tier: Canon. Source: A note in the castle basement from a servant is dated 1958, and mentions both Alcina and her children. Secondly, Miranda's experiment notes state that Alcina was the 181st subject, and was given the Cadou at age 44. By doing math, we can then determine the earliest Alcina could have been born.)

Alcina refers to the other Lords as her family once without any disdain (when Ethan first arrives at the castle and is caught, Alcina says "you've escaped my little brother"). In a private journal (located near where she threw the infamous vanity) she insults the other Lords, and expresses anger that she is "treated like a sister to them". She argues with Heisenberg without any hesitation, and seems honest in her hatred of him (per Maggie Robertson's wunderbar performance). (1st Tier/2nd Tier: Canon with a sprinkle of interpretation for the last line)

Alcina openly refers to Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela as her daughters, and wrote in her experiment journal that she felt instantly connected to them (as mother and daughters). (1st Tier: Canon).

Bela Dimitrescu:

Likely born in the 1930's or 1940's, in order to be an adult by 1958 (the first dated appearance of the Dimitrescu daughters). (2nd Tier: Based on inference)

Dialogue shows that all three of the daughters do love their mother, and reinforces the bond Alcina's journal mentions. (1st Tier: Canon)

We are not given any information about how Bela feels about the other Lords, or even what she knows about them. Once can assume that she shares the ideas of her mother, either because Alcina tells her things directly, or because Bela (who is eager to please her mother) picks up on them over time. (2nd Tier: Based on inference)

Donna Beneviento:

No idea when she was born. If you've read one of my recent posts, then you know that it's almost entirely a matter of 2nd and 3rd tier canon.

Of the four lords, Donna seems to have the most story within the 2nd tier, and has very, very little in the 1st tier. Duke says she's somewhat isolated, and that her "playmates" never leave the house. Miranda's notes state that Donna is mentally ill, and the gardener's diary states/implies (bit of both) that Donna has severe social anxiety. (1st/2nd Tier: Mostly canon)

Supposedly, her parents committed suicide while she was still a child. This is indicated in concept art/the attached developer's notes. However, the only part that's also directly stated in game is that her parents (specifically her father) died while she was young. (1st/2nd Tier: Mostly canon)

While Donna only has one voice line in the game (and it's sad), Angie talks a fair bit. Angie seems to disapprove of the other Lords, or at the very least enjoys mocking them, as well as enjoys watching them fight with each other. As Angie is connected to Donna, and Donna has some level of control over her, one can assume that the two have similar (if not the same) opinions. (1st/2nd Tier: Mostly Canon)

Donna was adopted by Mother Miranda as an adult. It's unclear exactly how old Donna was, or what exactly Miranda did as her "mother", just that Donna was excited about it. (1st Tier: Canon)

Other Relevant Information:

Heisenberg refers to the other Lords as his siblings a minimum of 1 time. Similarly to Alcina, however, he openly insults them and seems to hate them. He just, you know, hates Mother Miranda the most. (1st Tier: Canon)

Mother Miranda does not actually give a shit about the four Lords, intended for them to die before the ceremony, and has been manipulating them for her own gain this entire time. Her notes and dialogue make it clear that she only cares about getting Eva back. Somehow mother of the year and worst mother ever. At the same time. (1st/2nd Tier: Mostly Canon)

It's unclear who treats Alcina "like a sister" to the other Lords. Were there cut lines of dialogue that cemented the idea of them being a "family"? Did Miranda call them a "family" as part of pretending she cared about them? I've done my best to dig around, but there's very little in game that treats them as a family of any sort.

As each Lord ruled their own section of the region, they don't have any mentions of interacting with each other outside of meetings with Mother Miranda. None of the notes for any Lord (and their relevant experiments) mention what the others are doing. In game, their environments are very separate, very well divided, though this is likely as much for gameplay as it is for story.

Conclusion:

I do not not believe there is enough in game evidence to suggest that Alcina and Donna consider themselves to be siblings. There's the possibility for a large age gap, Alcina was a fair bit older than Donna when she met Miranda, Donna is a social recluse whose closest bonds were with dead blood relatives and dolls, Alcina openly dislikes (if not hates) the other Lords, they seemingly lived very separate and distanced lives, and Mother Miranda does not enforce the idea of "family". Furthermore, the sheer contrast between how Alcina interacts with/speaks of the other Lords compared to how she interacts with/speaks of her daughters says a lot about her feelings. Even if Heisenberg takes the brunt of her anger, Alcina never once says anything remotely positive about anyone other than Miranda and her daughters.

As Alcina/Bela and Donna are not blood-relatives, the definition of what would count as "incest" does vary depending on who you ask. Personally, I do count non-blood relations as potentially incestuous. For example: Alcina "dating" one of her daughters would be incest, regardless of the fact that she's a mutated human and her daughters are weird swarms of flies.

Now, I do understand how popular the idea of the four Lords being a real, chaotic but still close family is. And as I mentioned above, it's totally valid to not like the Bela///Donna ship, whether it's because you think they're family or some other reason. I don't personally see them that way, even in my definitely-not-canon stories.

Do I personally ship Bela///Donna? Nope. Have I liked art for the ship? Admittedly yes, even if I thought some of it was, like, maiden x Bela because Donna didn't have her veil and I'm a DUMBASS who doesn't always remember to read tags. Would I ever write for it? Yeah, probably, assuming I didn't miss anything in game/that I don't eventually change my mind.