#i think it works with the faith element... only seeing parts

[simpforsolas]

So I've seen a some discussion of people both criticizing and defending the DATV companions for being nice to each other. And I think the arguments from both sides are being a little bit misconstrued, which is honestly understandable. I think that often when something bothers us in fiction, it's hard to put into words exactly what it is. So as we try our best to express ourselves, it may not end up getting to the point of what the issue actually is (this is also why it can be tough for writers to properly address criticism - the readers providing the criticism might not be accurately diagnosing the root of the problem, so their attempts to fix it are shallow and don't actually address the issue).

Now I obviously don't speak for everyone, but I do think that a good amount of the people saying they want the DATV crew to be meaner don't actually mean they literally just want people to be rude and insulting each other for no reason. I think it boils down to three things that the new crew was missing:

Inability to really feel how the companion's backstories form their unique worldview

Lack of conflict between companions

Limited relationship dynamics between Rook and the companions

Inability to feel how companion's backstories form their worldview

In previous Dragon Age games, the characters frequently discussed and argued topics of philosophy, faith, politics, and beliefs. They came from all different backgrounds. You had Morrigan, a hedge mage raised to believe in self-preservation, teaming up with an Andrastian circle mage and former templar. Their beliefs and worldviews are, at their core, at odds with each other. The game doesn't necessarily try to make you believe one way or another, it simply drops you into the world and allows you to interact with these character, see their interactions with each other, and draw your own conclusions. In Dragon Age Inquistion, you have Cole, a spirit of compassion, teaming up with Vivienne, who believes the circle teachings that spirits are demons and want to possess people, and Sera, who represents the perspective of the common people that are afraid of all things magical or fade-related. You have Solas, a staunch individualist who believes in freedom for all, Cassandra, a faithful Andrastian who follows her own inner compass even when at odds with the institution of the Chantry, and Iron Bull, a Ben-Hassrath agent who believes in the Qun not because he's a philosopher and has decided that's what works best, but because that's how he was raised and so far, the Qun has worked for him. So in previous Dragon Age titles, you have people whose worldviews and beliefs are fundamentally at odds with each other, and whose actions and dialogues are a direct result of those beliefs. Veilguard really downplayed the importance of religion in Thedas, which isn't necessarily a problem in and of itself. In DA2, the only companion with strong religious beliefs is Sebastian. However, you had Anders who believed strongly in mage liberation, Fenris, who believed strongly in the dangers of magic, and Isabela, whose lack of belief and lack of respect for religion/beliefs led to one of the game's biggest conflicts. Discussion of religion and philosophy was always a huge part of the Dragon Age games, so when they almost entirely removed that element and didn't replace it with other types of belief that could lead to meaningful differences of opinion, we were just left with nothing of substance to really talk about. This isn't saying that the companions don't have things they believe in, but it's just not the same as characters from previous games. In general, their backgrounds don't form a unique worldview that results in differences of opinions and interesting conflict. Which brings my to my next point:

Lack of conflict between companions

There's a huge spectrum between "everyone is friends and always gets along" and "everyone hates each other and is happy when their ally is sold into slavery." In fact, fans often get really into fictional relationships that have quite a bit of conflict. Speaking for myself, I love relationships where two people may fight or disagree, but they truly care for one another and would willingly put themselves in harm's way to protect one another. So I think when a lot of people say the companions get along too well, they don't necessarily mean that they want them to all hate each other (maybe some do). They mean that they just want there to be interesting interpersonal conflicts. (I personally would love for a companion pair to argue a lot, but when it comes down to it, they actually really care about each other) Why do we want this? Well first, conflict just makes things more interesting. But I think that it also ties into point 1. In this game, the companions simply don't seem passionate enough about what they believe to argue for it, or, if they are, there's not anyone who challenges their beliefs and forces them to defend their position. I would say that Emmrich is very passionate about his love for spirits and necromancy, two things which are seen as weird and dangerous by most people in Thedas. However, there's almost no chance for him to passionately argue for his worldview because no one challenges it. There is that one scene with Taash finding his passion for working with the dead creepy, but as soon as the issue comes up, it's resolved. Compare that to Solas, where a big part of his characterization is love for spirits and frustration with fear and ignorance leading people to discriminate against what they don't understand. Having to face opposition to his beliefs, both in the world and within the inquisitor's inner circle (and sometimes the inquisitor themself), gives the writers the opportunities to emphasize core parts of his characterization.

On a final note for this section, it's just more interesting when different pairs of companions have unique relationships with each other. Solas and Cole's wholesome, mostly conflict-free friendship is made sweeter because you can compare it to Solas and Sera's relationship. It makes the relationships more meaningful when you can contrast it to how those same people click or don't click with other companions.

Limited relationship dynamics with Rook

The final issue I want to talk about is how all this ties into Rook. In previous games, you could learn a lot about a character's beliefs by seeing what they approved and didn't approve of. Anders approves of supporting mages, Fenris doesn't. Leliana approves of compassion for strangers, Morrigan doesn't because why should she help people who can't help themselves, and also it's a waste of time. Cole greatly approves of helping people, Solas slightly approves of you asking questions, Cassandra approves of expressing belief in the Maker, and so forth and so on. Then depending on the choices you make, your approval actually makes a difference in how these companions view you as their leader. But in Veilguard... well either the companions don't have strong feelings about things, or Rook isn't allowed to make decisions that oppose the beliefs they do have. Because of this, there's basically no conflict between Rook and the team. From my understanding, worst relationship you can get with the team is "distant boss whose employees don't invite them to their work parties," but that's not the same as Cassandra hating you so much she gets drunk or getting specific rival scenes like in DA2 where companions react entirely differently because Hawke consistently acted in opposition to their beliefs.

Final thoughts

So when people criticize the companions not getting along, I think it's less to do with the fact that people want them to hate each other, and more to do with the fact that we want companions who have a strong worldview shaped by their backstory, and for that worldview being challenged to lead to interesting conflict. Whether that challenge comes from other companions, the world, or Rook themself, I don't care - I just want interesting and meaningful conflict that is arises because the companions are strong characters who believe in something.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I’d like to know what your thoughts are on the ramp to the entrance to Collège Françoise Dupont that was built between Seasons 2 and 3.

Remember, from “Heroes’ Day - Part 1”

ALYA: Last year, I wrote an article about equipping public buildings with disabled access. But after seeing Ladybug and Cat Noir going that extra mile every single day, I decided that I, too, can do better. So I got the mayor’s approval to improve facilties so that handicapped kids can actually attend our school.

The stairs from “Origins” to “Heroes’ Day - Part 2”

The stairs in “Chameleon” and onwards

On paper, this is nice. A piece of worldbuilding on par with the akuma alerts like the one in “Riposte”.

However, there are three problems with this:

No one I’ve seen react to the show has noticed or remembered this, since the handicap accessibility is just a throwaway line from Alya that we don’t actually get to see being built.

We know how badly representation is presented in this show, so it’s not like this is getting any brownie points from me.

How the heck is a handicapped student supposed to get up a ramp that steep?

Collège Françoise Dupont's design is based off of Lycée Carnot, a real Parisian school, so I looked to see how the real school handled this issue. After looking at pictures of the school on Google, those steps seem to be a show-only addition. Which is interesting because the show tends to just copy the locations that inspired it. Now I'm wondering if those steps were inspired by something else?

Either way, it's hard to be too critical of the ramp's appearance without knowing the full story. While I fully agree that this is not a functional ramp, we do have to remember that there is a real-world cost associated with adding the ramp to the show. Someone has to design it and add it to the model, so I understand why they did it cheaply. Redesigning the steps into something more elegant and truly functional would have been ideal, but probably impossible to justify budget-wise since it's just a minor visual element. Same goes for animating someone putting in the ramp, which would be even more expensive. I'm honestly surprised that they added the ramp at all!

Now, does that mean that they should be praised for taking the time to put in a slap-dash ramp while never actually acknowledging or using it? No. To me, this feels like a lesser version of their choice to make Marinette a fashion designer while working in a medium that rarely allows her to design anything or even just change her outfit because, once again, budget! Before adding something to your script, you really should think through whether or not you can execute it properly. If you can't, then maybe pick a different path?

To be fair, it's possible that they didn't realize how bad the ramp would look until it was time to animate it. At that point, there's not really a great way to fix the problem. Do you leave the steps as-is even though you've explicitly drawn attention to the accessibility issue or do you be technically faithful to what you promised and put in a non-functional ramp? I don't know. I'm leaning toward "just don't add it," but neither choice is great.

It's even possible they may have only seen the ramp after it was too far in the animation process to revert back to the steps. With most or all of the animation being done out of house (I'm not actually clear on what if anything was done in house prior to season six), they almost certainly weren't seeing every step of the process or having daily reviews of what things were looking like, allowing for detailed input. How much input did they have? No idea! They absolutely got to review story boards or possibly even make them, but between the story board and the final 3D product? No idea.

I looked online for a general guide of the steps involved in working with an outside animation studio and this one generally matches what I know of the process if you want a high-level idea of how this can go and why redoing things may be no small request even if the models already exist. Once a scene is rendered, you have to completely rerender it to make any changes and that's pricey! Sometimes you just have to take a lesser quality product and go with it.

In summary, without knowing more details about what happened here, I don't feel fair being super critical of this, but it's certainly not getting any praise from me.

[ranticore]

very strongly considering going as far as i can with my aborted mez draft idea where the holy beasts are never actually witnessed in full by anyone - the knight is blind and never sees the outside of what they're piloting, the enginesmith works on bits and pieces or only sees the beasts asleep, and the renegade only experiences it in parts, never having seen "their" beast before it was ripped away from them. i think that would be fun

[vaguely-concerned]

I don't know what I love more, the fact that as rook you can make a statement in NO uncertain terms that you are NOT responsible one way or the other for the theological implications of the shit you're discovering in the 'regrets of the dread wolf' memories. not my jurisdiction. quite simply none of my business. not my chantry circus not my chantry monkeys. irrelevant to the matter at hand here we'll kill that god if we get to him he can get in line. or if the best thing about it is seeing the lone little 'lucanis approves' that pops up right after choosing it. corvid with a knife about to commit deicide keeping it real and sensibly, pragmatically, wilfully agnostic with me here in this magical lighthouse today

[arolesbianism]

Sometimes I just look at Isabeau and just know that if isat came out and I got into it when I was like 16 he would be my favorite character and I would've gone absolutely buck wild over this man and feel like he was laser targeting me. But alas Odile has a grip of steel on me rn due to her virtue of being a middle aged woman

[fairyysoup]

the devil i know

chapter one: god you've got the blackest eyes

(repost)

fic tag | fic playlist | fic masterlist

pairing(s): crossroads demon!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: To summon a demon at a crossroads, simply cast a circle, make an offering, and recite an incantation. What happens from that point on is subject to your desire… and the demon’s.

cw: explicit, smut, dubcon elements, making a deal with a demon, inspired by american and european folklore, sacrilegious themes, horror, witch!reader, reader is 21+ in modern day, eddie is immortal, coercion (a bit), sex pact, marking, possessive behavior, animal death, trauma, reader is ostracized by her very religious hometown, dark comedy, tfw your accidental boyfriend is a demon who is obsessed with you bc he doesn’t know how to be normal about anything ever, dead dove: do not eat

please check masterlist and individual parts for content warnings before reading. this fic contains dark themes. your media consumption is your own responsibility.

a/n: Hi folks, for the month of October this year I'm going to be reuploading all the chapters of this fic onto tumblr, this time hopefully for good. I apologize for the time that it's been taken down. Genuinely, this fic has garnered so much kindness and support and I think of it as one of my biggest accomplishments. I hope you all enjoy it just as much the second time around as the first.

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

Through me you pass into the city of woe, Through me you pass into eternal pain, Through me you pass among forsaken people. Justice moved my exalted creator; I was wrought by divine power, Supreme wisdom, and primal love. Before me all things created were eternal, And eternal I endure. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here. -Dante Alighieri, The Inferno, Canto III

The book you’ve used for ages now, since late in your junior year of high school, has only one page in it that you haven’t utilized. You don’t know how much faith to put in it– you’re a little short on faith, these days– but, the spellbook lays it out simply, so you follow its directions to the letter. 

To summon a demon at a crossroads, go to a place where two paths meet on the dark moon. You find peace and quiet in the woods, deep where you know no one walks at night but two paths cross in a small clearing banked with trees. It’s your favorite place to go when you want to do a spell– ritual– and you don’t want to be bothered. The whole thing can’t be more than twenty feet across. Above the overhang of trees, there’s no moon in the sky, only stars.

Cast a circle of protection. That took more research than just the book in your hands, but years of collecting information have given you learned knowledge– there are a million ways to cast a circle, and different circles for different purposes. You do your best to create one for protection. You draw a literal circle in the dirt with a stick, fill it with salt, and walk around the circle three times clockwise to cast it. You light candles to give yourself some light, and to free up your hands of the flashlight you carried to see your way through the woods. 

Make an offering of copper. Your hand pauses on the copper dog tag in your hand. You’d thought of just offering a penny, but you remembered reading somewhere that pennies barely contain copper anymore, and you didn’t have anything else that was entirely made of the one metal. 

You run your finger over the embossed name on it. Lacey. Your pet’s old collar feels heavy in your hand as you remove the tag from the leather strap and bury it in the earth, you guess, to reach the… Underworld? Hell? You can’t honestly say, considering the text you’re referencing only calls it the Otherworld.

It’s a big sacrifice. It’s personal. But, you guess, that gives it more meaning. Making a deal is personal business, and you have your reasons.

Recite the summoning incantation. A stanza of words you don’t understand. You don’t think it’s in Latin, but you try your best, all the same. You read them from the book before you, and feel your blood rushing in your veins as you do.

State your desire out loud in a clear voice. Well, that’s a little more difficult. What is it that you want?

You take a breath, go to speak, and then stop. You don’t know how to start. You don’t know exactly how to describe your pain. You don’t know how to voice your anger well enough, you just know you need to… you need to get it out, somehow. This is a very crucial step in the ritual, you have to do it.

“I came here to make a deal,” you speak frankly, clearly. “I’m prepared to do anything. I’ve run out of options. I’ve been hurt too many times, by too many people who didn’t care what they did to me. I’ve lost everything I genuinely loved. I’m… I’m angry, and desperate, and I’m frightened. And I feel so alone. It’s eating me alive, and I just… I just want the ability to make things go my way, for once.” Good enough, you hope.

Wait for an answer.

You do. You listen intently, to the song of the leaves in the trees rustling in the slight breeze, to the crickets chirping in the grass. You wait long enough that you start to rethink your approach. 

It could be that things will turn around if you just wait another month, or another month after that. Maybe you’ll get the car back. Maybe you’ll get the promotion that was given to the newbie that you trained. Maybe your ex will stop coming around your work to intimidate you. Maybe you’ll get a new dog to take the place of the one that he killed. Maybe the evangelical town you live in will stop shunning you and calling you a witch, like something out of the middle ages.

Unlikely, that last one.

Just when you swear it’s a failure, that you should just pack up and leave, that’s when a strong gust of wind rips through the clearing out of nowhere. The candles blow out– and then, oddly enough, relight themselves. There’s a slight scent of smoke on the breeze, and you look around to make sure none of the candles fell over in the wind.

They’re all perfectly fine. There’s nothing amiss, it seems, until you hear a cough and movement across the clearing. You look forward, and see a pair of black combat boots in the stream of light from your flashlight. You follow the boots up to a pair of legs, clad in dark jeans, and then further up, to a torso, and a head, and a pair of sparkling eyes.

“Hi.”

You stare at him, probably looking like a fish out of water with the way your mouth opens and closes. You’d fully expected the traditional scary depiction of a demon– maybe horns, goat hooves, et cetera. But the man that answered your call is… just a man. A pretty one. He has long, curly hair, which falls over his broad shoulders and stirs in the wind. His plush lips curve up in a relaxed, cocky smile, as he takes in the sight of you in return. 

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “Are you just gonna stare at me all night?” 

“Sorry, hi. Hello.” You shake your head. “Can you believe I honestly thought I’ve been doing it wrong this whole time?” 

“I can believe a lot of things. You know, there’s a reason why the demon summoning ritual is first in that book.” His voice is soft and resonant. You get a mental image of heat waves radiating from tar-black and glowing magma, rolling slowly over lava beds. The image disappears just as soon as it flashes into your mind.

“Well, to be completely honest, I wasn’t sure how I felt about making a deal with a demon first thing,” you explain, looking away shyly. “But I’ve tried all the spells in this book and not a single one of them worked. Just seems like everything is getting worse all the time.”

He doesn’t look away– rather, he keeps staring at you, unblinkingly. Like you’re the most fascinating creature he’s ever seen. He leans up against the tree that he appeared beside, his leather jacket falling open to reveal a shirt with a demon’s head on it. Fitting. He takes a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket. 

“So, now you wanna make a deal with little ol’ me, huh?” He grins, a gorgeous smile that flashes bright, sharp teeth at you. He lifts a cigarette to his mouth and bites it gently between his teeth. He doesn’t pull out a lighter. Instead, you watch him light up with a small flame that erupts from the tip of his thumb. 

“Depends on who you are,” you retort, eyes following the movement of his hands. They’re weighed down by large, silver rings that reflect the light of the flame before it snuffs out. “What’s your name?”

He makes a short noise in his throat, shaking his head abruptly. He doesn’t look nearly as intimidating as you feel he should– more like he’s trying to warn you against something you don’t want. He peers at you from beneath his wavy bangs as he pulls the cigarette from his mouth and uses it to point at you. “Names are really powerful things where I come from, babydoll. Best not to bite off more than you can chew yet. Once we cut a deal– that’s when you get my name.”

You make a face as you mull that over. “So what do I call you, in the meantime? Demon daddy?” 

“You could,” he chuckles. The demon rocks to the side, crossing his legs at the ankles. “If you really wanted to. I wouldn’t mind, it’s flattering.” 

You grunt. “I think I’ll pass on that, actually.” He tilts his head with a sicker, watching you with an amused smile while you shift in place. “So, do I– I mean, you need to know what I want, right? Is that how this starts?”

“No, I know what you want.” He exhales a stream of smoke from his nostrils. “You want power. To get a fair shake, find your place, change your life. Defend yourself against the assholes making that life, well. A living hell.” As he spits out the words, his voice rings sharp through the trees, like the strike of a hammer on glowing metal, shooting sparks off into the air. 

“I want to take all this pain and just… return to sender. Give it back to them, y’know? I never wanted any of it,” you justify. Your voice is too small in comparison with his. “Maybe then I’ll be able to fucking breathe.”

For how little space you allow yourself to take up, he seems to consume the rest of it. He nods slowly. “That’s a fair request, sweetheart.”

“It’s selfish, I know.”

“Making a deal for power is inherently a selfish thing,” he shrugs. “Own it. I’m certainly not judging.”

You let out a shaky breath. You’re still so nervous, being so near him– ten feet away and growing closer every second, it seems, even though neither of you have moved. You feel like, no matter how far you pull back, the flow of fiery lava he seems to embody will keep creeping towards you until you’re burned alive.

His dark eyes glow like coals in the night as he looks you up and down, and then he quickly pushes himself away from the tree. You startle at the abrupt movement, and watch as he swings around it like Gene Kelly on a lamp post. 

When he rounds the tree, he uses the momentum to throw himself toward your circle. You flinch, and he frowns, but continues moving toward you at a slower pace, holding his hands out innocently. “Wanna know a secret? About how all this,” he twirls a finger in the air, indicating the ritual you’re in the middle of, “works?”

You nod, gazing up at him shyly. If you felt at all powerful while casting the circle and starting the ritual, he’s managed to take the wind out of your sails. You can feel the power radiating off of him in waves.

He smirks at you. “You make your petition– when you say the words in that little book,” he points at the volume at your feet, “and that petition is answered by whichever demon caters most to that desire.” He points at himself emphatically, his eyebrows raised. “Me? Infernal majesty of freaks and misfits. I’m your demon daddy.”

You finally giggle, and it makes him smile fondly, like that’s what he’d been gunning for all along. He backs up a step and puffs his cigarette. 

“I’m here to help you, sweetheart.” He regards you for a second, like he’s thinking things over. “That is, as long as you agree to my terms.”

“Terms?” You echo, but you were sort of expecting that. Nothing for nothing, right? “What are the terms?”

“Ah, they’re simple. Very traditional,” he waves his hand like it’s frivolous. He holds his hand out in midair, and just like how he’d conjured the flames, he produces a weathered book. It looks like a composition book that has scribbles and doodles all over the front of it– the same demon head that adorns his shirt. “You sign your name with your blood in my little black book, you hop on one foot with your hand on your head and pledge your undying fealty to the dark lord Kthulu, and then you meet me on the sabbath to kill a child and make them into soup.” 

He smiles, fluttering his eyelashes at you innocently. 

“Are you fucking serious?” You blurt. 

“Of course I’m not fucking serious– what is this, the dark ages?” He snorts as he lowers the composition book. “Nah, we don’t do human sacrifice on the sabbath anymore, it was getting too difficult to evade the witch hunters.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He flashes you a disarming grin. You can feel yourself halfway smirking as well, incredulous but somehow enjoying his humor. Then he shakes his head and says, seriously, “No, you do have to sign my book, though. And then meet me back here on the full moon to fuck.”

You blink at him, reeling from the whiplash of that. “You… I’m sorry?”

“I find it best not to sugarcoat it, y’know.” He shrugs, “Think of this as a marriage, of sorts. I give you the power to smite thine enemies, live deliciously, blah blah blah, and then you meet me at the crossroads every full moon to be my whore and we fuck like bunnies all night. Simple as that.”

“That’s far from simple.”

“It doesn’t have to be monogamous, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he continues frankly, “except on the full moon. I won’t compromise about that– you’ll be all mine, and I’m all yours. No takesies backsies.”

“No– that’s not–” You exhale, holding your hands over your eyes. “I’m just… not promiscuous like that…”

“Sweetheart.” He waits until you’ve lowered your hands to look at him, and he hums, with a saccharine smile that reminds you of the power you’d felt sweep through the clearing when he arrived. “You won’t be the first good girl I’ve broken, and you won’t be the last. If you’re worried about promiscuity, well… I answered your petition. I know what goes on in that pretty head, and it barely scratches the surface of what I’ve seen and done.” 

The toe of his boot barely nudges the edge of your circle, and a spark crackles in the dark from the impact. The light dances in his eyes longer than it remains in the air, like they caught the spark and ignited. 

“Trust me,” he says, drawing you in with the low register of his voice. “I can give you more than power. I can give you protection. I can give you real happiness. Karma’s a fucking bitch, so I can be, too. This is just such a little thing in return. And who knows… you may even like it.”

You shiver at that, even though his presence feels hot, like his stream of lava is surrounding you, crowding you in, boiling you where you stand. He’s right– you absolutely might like it. 

Because there’s just something magnetic between you, isn’t there? You can sense it, more than any heat and any sort of primal fear you might have instinctively at his presence. There’s a certain pull you feel toward him, emanating even through the salt barrier on the ground. 

You want to wrap yourself in him. Boil you alive, burn you to a crisp, destroy you– you don’t care.

“Or… is it that you don’t like this body?” He wonders aloud, striding backward two steps. He turns, his hand lifting his seemingly ever-burning cigarette to his lips. “Figures– y’know, I can be anything you want me to be, babydoll.”

Confused, you watch as he transforms in front of you. In the length of two steps while he paces across the clearing, his face and body stretches and contorts, until you’re not staring at the same visage anymore. He stops, and he turns to you with his palms up, like he’s waiting for your approval. 

You’re looking at Tom fucking Cruise. 

“Oh, no, absolutely not,” you shake your head vehemently, scowling. You wave your hands demandingly, “Put it back. You were so hot before– please, please go back to the way you were.”

The demon grins and turns his head, throwing the cigarette away. His hair grows back to its previous length, his face morphing as if made of clay until you meet the same pretty smile you’ve come to enjoy looking at. 

He chuckles, grabbing a lock of his hair and drawing it across his lips. “You think I’m hot?”

“Of course,” you murmur, but you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he can hear it. His eyes are embers, blazing at you from beneath his bangs. “Is that what you normally look like? Is that your true form?”

He makes an iffy sound. “It’s what I looked like when I was human. My true form has more horns and unhinged jaws and claws and all that. You wouldn’t like it.”

“I thought you said you could read my mind. Do you know how much monster porn I’ve consumed? That’s hot as shit to me,” you argue, and he snaps his head towards you in surprise. You point at yourself. “Freak and misfit.”

He laughs, and it sounds like the roaring of an out of control fire, burning up everything in its path. He kicks his heel on the ground and steps up to your circle again. “I like you, baby. I really do. What do you say?”

“How do I know that I can trust you?” you ask, an annoying lump forming in your throat with the question. You’ve been burned before by people far less powerful than this demon, yet who still hold so much power over you. However much they have.

“You can’t,” he answers, more honestly than most would. He tilts his head with a crooked smile. “Not to get all preachy on you, but even if I wasn’t a demon… trust is built, not a given. ‘The devil you know,’ right? Better than the one that you don’t.”

“Yeah,” you agree, your voice coming out breathy and winded the longer you gaze up into his eyes.

“Trust me to be… intense, I guess,” he shrugs. “And probably impulsive. But I’ll always deliver on our deal. Be my witch, my wife, my whore– whatever you want to call it, but be mine. I think we’ll have so much fun together.”

“Yeah, I think– I think I will.” You’re nodding, and his smile grows with yours. “I want to.”

“Let me in, sweetheart.”

Your toe scuffs the boundary on the ground, breaking the circle. Immediately, your senses are assaulted by smoke, not just the tobacco he’s been smoking but the scent of a wildfire, of cities burned to ashes, of desolation and destruction and pyroclastic flow and roaring, exploding volcanoes. 

Your demon crosses the line you’d drawn on the ground with ease, producing the worn composition book in his hand again. The cover reads Hellfire Club in chicken scratch handwriting. 

“Are there others?” You ask, prompted by the word Club on the front as he flips open the book to a middle page. An agreement is already written out in red ink. “Do you have more than one, um…”

“Consort?” He whispers in your ear. Goosebumps rise on your skin, and your stomach flutters. “Not for a long time. I’m very picky about my partners. They have to be just as much of a freak as I am.”

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest, although the admission makes you feel… better, in a way. You squint in the dark, but with the exception of the candles around your circle, there’s nothing to allow you to properly read what’s written on the page. 

He sighs, shifting on his feet beside you. “Are you one of those people who’ll read the whole contract?”

“Absolutely I am,” you hum. The book feels heavier in your hands than it should. “Can you give me a light?”

“Jesus Christ.” He produces a flame from his forefinger just as you turn to give him a confused look. 

“Shouldn’t you, like… evaporate after saying that?”

In the yellow glow of the flame, he just blinks at you, looking amused. “Things aren’t as black and white as you think they are, believe me.”

You snatch his wrist and yank his arm closer to the page. His body collides with yours, and he grunts in your ear as he wraps his other arm around you, embracing you from behind. You’re engulfed in the scent of smoke and the heat of his flames, impossibly hot and comforting all the same. 

His hair brushes your shoulder as you read his contract. It’s just a few lines, but the weight they hold will seal your fate. 

The agreement made this night of the dark moon shall henceforth be enacted from the signing of this document, that hereby renders the human party’s soul bound to the infernal party. Witness that the first party must appear before the second party each full moon to lay in matrimonial fashion, and that in return the first party shall be protected and given the powers of the second from here until the human’s mortal passing. 

“Aww, that’s sweet,” you coo, tracing the red ink with your fingers. 

The demon over your shoulder rolls his eyes. “It’s a fucking pre-nup.”

“Doesn’t seem like a fair trade, though, does it?” You murmur. “I mean, I get the power to change my circumstances and you get– what– sex once a month?”

His hand tightens on your waist, and you pause. You turn your head to look at him, and his eyes flicker dangerously, so close to yours. They aren’t just glowing coals- this close, you can see the small details. You can see the swirling, the churning of lava within them.

“It’s not just sex, is it?”

“What do you think making a deal with a demon entails, sweetheart? Read the fine print.”

You look back at the page. There are no other words on it, save for the ones you’ve already read. “I don’t…?”

“It’s your soul, honey,” he mutters, pointing at the word. His mouth is muffled against your shoulder as he peers over it. “I won’t ask anything of you other than the sex, as long as you live. But right now, you’re offering up your soul. And once your life is up, you get to be just like me. Understand?”

“I… yeah. I understand.” You let go of his wrist, but pause over the pages of the book. “I don’t have anything to sign with.”

Wordlessly, the demon takes your hand. You let him caress your wrist, feeling your pulse with his thumb. Then, before you realize what’s happening, a sharp sting makes you yelp as he cuts your skin with his pointed thumbnail. 

He shushes you, letting the blood well up on your skin. “I did say you needed to sign with blood.”

Your voice shakes when you hold your dripping wrist over the page. “I thought you said you were joking.”

“Not about the book. Rules of the trade, I can’t change it.” Your blood splatters the notebook, dripping into the crease of the page. Once he’s satisfied, he lifts your wrist to his mouth and closes his lips around the small wound. It heals in a heartbeat. 

“Is that it, then?” You ask, mesmerized by the sight and feeling of his mouth on your skin. “Don’t you have to sign?”

Your demon kisses your wrist gently, his lips soft, inviting. “This is going to hurt,” he warns, and you nod. The heat of his breath makes your skin tingle, all your nerves on high alert. 

But then that tingling turns into a burn, that turns into a searing pain. You feel like your skin is on fire, an invisible hot brand held against your wrist. You cry out as he holds you close, letting you bury your face into his neck, holding you up as your knees threaten to buckle. 

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs to you as you whimper. He holds your arm as the pain fades into a throbbing ache, cradles your hand against his cheek as he coos into your hair. “You’re so strong. Not many people can handle my mark, you know. Fate works in funny ways.”

Your demon holds you until you can stand on your own, until your breathing evens out and you can compose yourself. He shushes you quietly, rocking you from side-to-side with a soothing hand stroking your head. Then he holds your face, and kisses your tear stained cheeks. The touch of his lips stokes at flames beneath your skin.

“I’ll look forward to our time together, little witch,” he whispers. And with a quick, chaste kiss to your lips, he disappears entirely. 

You stay in the circle for a while, clutching your throbbing wrist and crying frustrated tears. You wonder if you made the right decision, and yet, you don’t understand why you just want him to come back. You miss the comfort of his presence, even if you don’t know enough about him to justify it. All he did was hurt your arm and take your blood and kiss away your tears and make you a witch. 

It’s too late to go back on your decision now. There’s an all-encompassing fire you can feel burning in your veins, emitting from the pulsating wound on your wrist. His power. His fire. 

You pull your hand away from your wrist to finally inspect the mark that he branded you with, declaring you his in the same chicken scratch that had been on the cover of his book. It’s small enough that a well placed bracelet would cover it, but you don’t know that you’ll want to.

Eddie.

Your demon’s name is Eddie.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Could I ask for some yandere alucard post season 3 with a s/o that isn't human or only part human? Like being half fae, nymph or siren. I just think the dynamics of that relationship would be quite different then say if the object of his obsession was human given his lack of faith in humanity in season 3s aftermath

A/N: I LOVE this question! It was so interesting to think about all the different ways the MC could be half-human and have that connection with Alucard. I did end up going with a mermaid/siren sort of creature as the original asker did send in an additional ask clarifying how they could picture this abused mermaid girl feeling kinship with Alucard because of his current distrust of humans, and I liked that element. I also chose a siren / mer create as they have abilities to manipulate/hypnotize their prey, an ability Alucard probably has as well with him being half-vampire. I ended up writing a very long outline in bullet points but felt that it didn't quite flow for HC, so I instead broke it up into smaller scenes below. I hope that’s ok. Sorry, it took so long. I was sick with some weird virus for weeks (lowkey feel like it’s mono or something), and could only handle work and family crap, like I barely had any motivation to live. And then when I started writing this, it sort of took on a life of its own lol. (What can I say? I love me some Alucard.) 

Anon also suggested I check out this manga- it’s called Becoming the Villain's Family and it’s about a siren who goes back in time and makes a marriage pact with a devil to prevent their untimely fates. I’m not a huge manga reader, but my sister is, so I’m going to recommend it to her and maybe we can read it together. 

Yandere! Alucard (Post-S3) w/ A Half-Siren S/O 

The fair creature did not see quite how it happened, for it had all transpired too fast. A deep guttural growl echoed from past the tree line, well beyond the corners of her vision as the very ground beneath the wagon’s feet began to shake violently. As swiftly and silently as a flash of lightning, the wagon she resided in was sliced in half, the metal cage that kept her prisoner acting as her only guard against an elongated talon from some sort of monster. The cage was tossed sideways, skittering along the dirt ground as the poor mer creature inside flipped over violently, her dehydrated human form and lack of clothing sending her soft, nearly translucent skin into the square welds hard enough to form bruises. 

“Retrieve the asset!” 

“Don’t let her escape!” 

“Are you crazy?! Fuck the asset!” 

Around her, a flurry of mixed male voices shouted out contradictory directions. With only the setting sun for light, it was difficult to make out who had yelled what. 

Then came more growls in addition to all the shouting. Then the shouting turned into screaming. And a handful of those screams turned into cut-off cries followed by loud squelching. A flurry of slices and swings from blades and swords interrupted what must have been the creature's onslaught, but it would certainly not last long. There would be more torn flesh, and more final yells- a final symphony of bloodshed to follow. 

Kneeling into an upright position, the fair mer creature pushed and pulled frantically against the metal door of her cage. The hinges had warped in the fall, bending just so, that if enough force was applied…

With a metallic screech, the young water maiden could kick her cage door from its battered hinges. Fortunately enough for her, none of her captors seemed to notice her imminent freedom, the lot of them busy battling hideous creatures beyond any comprehensible amalgam or imagination. 

Unfortunately for her, her sudden movement did not go unnoticed by one such creature. 

A smaller, fiendish-looking thing, with the body of a lizard, but the head of a vulture, and the tail of a scorpion mawed loudly at her, its stinger striking warningly at the ground. 

Not needing to be told twice, the young maiden leaped up and made a mad dash for the treeline on the other side of the clearing, opposite the line of creatures. 

As she made it past the treeline she watched as one of her imprisoners struck successfully at the rear of the small fiendish creature with the sharp end of a spear. It cut roughly into the monster’s backside, turning the horrid thing’s attention away from her back onto her captors. 

Pausing for a mere second, she took one last look at the few men still alive, fighting for their lives against the horrible creatures. Even if they were to win the fight, she swore it would be the last time she saw them. Beasts or no beasts, she was never losing her freedom again. 

✧ ✧ ✧

The bottoms of her feet stung with every step, and her calves burned worse every time she jumped over branches, landing on uneven ground. Her thighs were practically numb from the midseason cold, and her time forced to rest on the cold metal bars of her prison certainly did not help. But she refused to stop running. Even if she was unfamiliar with the practice of traveling upright on two extremities, she perished the thought that her inexperience might slow her down. She could not fail. She could not yet rest. Whoever won the fight between her captors and the creatures was certain to follow after her once the battle was done. She could not waste precious time. So despite pain and exhaustion, she pushed onward. 

After what felt like an eternity, although, if she were to judge by the moon, it must have only been a few hours, she found her legs could no longer support her weight, as her knees buckled beneath her, slipping on the soft embankment ground. 

‘Embankment?’ The maiden, feeling a final surge of hope, strained her neck to get a better look. It did appear that she had made it to a river bank, although it was a rather small one at that. Still, the sight felt like a miracle. It had been too long since her body was submerged, snug, within her element’s embrace. And given the choice between breathing her last breaths on the cold dry forest ground, or under a river’s soft current, she’d choose the river, any day. 

Using her arms to pull herself into the cold water, she breathed one final breath of chilled night air before slinking into the river water. Closing her eyes, the young maiden had but one thought: 

‘If this is to be my final resting place, then so be it.’ 

✧ ✧ ✧

The next morning started the same way all mornings do: the sun rose in the sky, the birds and bugs began their daily chirps, and a very forlorn-looking Adrian Tepes, known currently as Alucard, son of Dracula exited his castle in search for food, his usual basket in hand. Unusual however were the two corpses that greeted him as he passed the castle steps. 

Alucard paid the bodies no mind, he didn’t once glance in either of their directions. He kept his eyes forward, locked onto the foliage and wildlife hidden within the forest line choosing to pretend the bodies were no longer there. Yes, he knew they were there. Of course, he knew. He was the one to string them up after all. But if he were to acknowledge the corpses' presence, then he would also be required to acknowledge the circumstances that led them to be staked there, and that was something not even the great slayer of Dracula could do. So instead Alucard did what he could: he adjusted the basket in his arms and began mentally preparing the meal he would make. 

Coming to the river bank, Alucard felt something was off. He sensed another presence nearby. Kneeling down to the water, he kept his ears open for any movement within the trees but did not hear any. 

‘Odd.’ The dhampir waited for a spell before resuming his usual activities. He methodically removed his boots, before rolling up the ends of his pants, as he prepared to wade into the river. He had found a comfortable position, balanced on the river rocks below his feet when he noticed another oddity. 

“Where have all the fish gone?” 

The river, once teeming with fish, ones even brave enough to stick around as he waded into the water, were nowhere to be seen. Besides the rushing of water over the river bank, Alucard could not hear them swimming around within the water below. 

Turning his head, he found a single glint of scales reflecting the morning’s rays a few meters from where he had been standing. But just one fish? Or perhaps, a damn of some kind was preventing them from moving freely. Alucard made a move to investigate closer. But then, just as he turned to do so, what appeared to be an incredibly large fish leaped out of the river, and flopped onto the bank. It writhed around, flopping this way and that before rolling over to face him. It was at that moment Alucard realized why all the other fish had disappeared. There was no damn, no net. It was because of this… this creature. 

✧ ✧ ✧

The young mermaid awoke with a start, the deep echo of footsteps underwater had vibrated her awake. From where she lay, her vision was obscured, but she could make it out that the being was human in nature, standing on two legs, with only two arms to boot. It did not possess any claws or animal characteristics like any of the night creatures from the night before, nor did it appear to resemble any of the men who had taken her. 

The maiden stayed as still as stone, hoping this new strange human would grow bored of waiting for a meal to catch, turn around, and go home. But luck, as it had proven time and time again as of late, was not on her side. 

The man made a move towards her position, and she found she could not help the fear that bubbled up from inside her chest. The river was too small for her to swim through. More so, moving within the water would only create splashes to further catch this stranger’s attention. If she wanted to get away, she’d need to shift back to her human form and make yet another run for it on foot. 

Using the strength her long waterlogged rest had given her, she propelled her body out of the water, onto the river bank. As soon as her full body was on land, she writhed and wriggled, doing all she could to shake the excess water from her body. 

Her earlier set of legs had once again merged into a fishtail, strong and thick, with grooved fins to match. Her abdomen and chest were plated with scales all up the sides. And as she shook herself dry, several of those scales slid off her body into the dirt. Her ears, previously flesh and pointed more like an elf’s, had pulled back, with loose tentacle-like fins spouting out around their outer shell. In the daylight, she knew there was no mistaking what she was. But if she was to change her form quickly, it was a risk she needed to take. 

Despite the morning's warm sun, her body did not dry as fast as she had hoped. The maiden used her arms, and her now-clawed fingers to pull herself up further, finally gaining purchase on one bark of a tree, as she did her best to twist around and face this stranger head-on. 

Letting out a hiss, she bore her fangs at the strange blonde man standing before her. Only the man did not seem intimidated, nor shocked to see a creature such as herself. If anything, he appeared, at ease. Was this perhaps a trap? She hissed again but found herself on the side of surprise when the seemingly human man bared his own set of fangs and hissed back. 

✧ ✧ ✧

‘A mermaid?’ Alucard watched, amused, as the young creature did her best to appear menacing to him. If only she knew, how instead of fear, Alucard felt a rush of reassurance at the sight of her inhuman features. 

‘Humans,’ he thought bitterly. It was two humans who had hurt him most of all. Not even his own father’s war on humanity had harmed him the way those two did. His father left him for dead paled in comparison to the shame and torment he carried with him from that one night.  

Had a human shown their face on his property, he’d… Well, Alucard was not certain what he would do should they refuse his order to leave. But whatever he decided, it would not be a fate any would enjoy, that’s for certain. 

Thankfully, with the very distinct mer-features of this individual, that point was moot. He did not need to threaten disembowelment or an eternity of torture as a spawn, Alucard felt no such need to. 

He took a step closer, taking in her unique features. Her eyes were large and dark, almost pure pools of black. He could feel the pull luring him in closer the longer he looked into them. Her skin was almost opaque, despite its color. At certain angles, rays of the morning sun seemed to shine through her body, as opposed to around it. And her tail, no doubt the most impressive of her peculiarities, glinted impressively, making her an almost otherworldly mirage against the browns and greens of the surrounding greenery. 

Of course, no sooner than Alucard could admire such an ethereal sight, her tail began to lose some of its luminescence, growing duller by the second. The previously shiny scales that overlapped each other began to flake off, one by one. Down the middle of her tail, from where her belly button would have been on her abdomen had she been a human, what scaled skin remained began to crack, viscously, like a deep fissure that would not heal. The fissure continued to grow in depth and width as Alucard came within feet of her. 

She hissed for a second time at his forward movement, but Alucurd was undeterred. Smiling a sort of melancholy smile, he paused before opening up his maw, revealing his impressive fangs with a hiss of his own.

At his revelation, the creature’s demeanor changed abruptly. Gone was the fear and hatred in her eyes, instead replaced by a much more benevolent wonder. 

She opened her mouth, the tentacles around her ears shriveling into themselves, her ears changing to a more elven point as they came to rest flatter against her head. Alucard watched as her fangs dissipated too, the sharp canine points rounding themselves down into very simple humanoid-looking teeth. The back of her throat opened and closed, but very little sound came out. If she was trying to communicate, it seemed a verbal conversation was currently off the table. 

“I am Alucard Tepes, son of Dracula and Lisa Tepes.” Alucard spoke, taking the lead for her. “And I am not human.” 

The mermaid closed her eyes as she leaned back against the tree bark, wincing once or twice as a very slime-covered, human-looking bottom half cracked free from the dried shell of her former tail. She used her hands to pull the husks away from her body, leaving every bit of her person on display. 

Alucard cleared his throat before deciding to remove his shirt and give it to her. He tossed the white shirt to the maiden who caught it in one hand. Bringing it in to smell, she sniffed it before looking back at him curiously. 

“If you wish to spend the walk back to my castle naked, I won’t stop you. But as I’m sure you’ve learned, people up here spend most of their life clothed.” 

She turned her head in the opposite direction as if to say, ‘So?’ before ultimately relenting, pulling the white top over her head. 

Making a move to stand, her legs wobbled, giving out underneath her. But before she could fall, by the grace of his vampiric speed, Alucard managed to catch her, one of his arms looping under hers around her shoulder. Upon noticing the sudden conflict, the mermaiden hissed again but made no move to shove him off. Making another choked-off sound, from the back of her throat, she tried speaking again. 

“Ghhank hou.” Frowning, she cleared her throat before trying again. “Thgank cou,” her voice was quiet, and yet deep and guttural at the same time as if she was holding back. 

“So you can speak,” Alucard commented as he helped her walk a distance, finding her balance. 

The young maiden nodded, before shaking her head. “Youg may naught want mee too.” She blinked her large, dark eyes at him, pointing to them, them down to her throat as she did so. “Sssighh-rhen.” 

Alucard paused his walking, staring his golden orbs back at her. In the light, the mermaid watched as they glittered and shined, an almost metallic color, reminiscent of pirates’ gold, lulling her into a sense of security. She gave off a warning growl, having caught on to the fact that she was not the only one with influential abilities. Alucard blinked twice, breaking off the trance. 

“As I said before,” he reiterated, leading the way back to his castle, “I am not human.” 

The mermaiden watched him, as an almost smirk graced her inhumanely beautiful face. “Gooodd,” she hissed out. 

✧ ✧ ✧

“That is how the castle came to be in my possession.” 

Alucard led the young mermaiden down the many hallways and corridors of the castle, telling her the story of how he, along with Belmont and Sypha, were tasked with defeating Dracula. He stopped to point out various rooms along the way, the ones he was the most familiar with, anyway. There was still much of the castle that felt foreign to him. It was as if he walked the rows of a graveyard, rarely stopping to notice yet another name on a tombstone. How many hands had helped build this place? How much of their blood was shed to gather all the infinite knowledge and wealth that was kept here? Alucard did not know. Nor was he certain he wanted to know. 

Walking past the various debris and carnage still left from their battle with Dracula, Alucard ushered her into his father’s former study, now his study. In the middle of the room sat one large rather ornate chair, placed before a cracked fireplace. In the chair was a crumbled blanket and pillow. On the small table next to it, a cold long-forgotten cup of tea. The items together suggested this chair was used in recent days for sleeping, not for sitting and reading or studying of any sort. 

The mermaiden narrowed her eyes at that. Surely, even with this battle, Alucard claimed had taken place within his home, there were bedrooms and living quarters left unbothered. Why would someone in possession of such a grand and luxurious home sleep sitting up in a chair? Or perhaps, was it a question of biology, not psychology? Did a being like Alucard require sleep at all? 

As the mermaiden contemplated, Alucard kneeled down to start a fire, but not before vaguely gesturing at the crack that ran up the front brick of the fireplace. “As you can see, the fight was not limited to one area or room.” 

“Bprokeghn,” the mermaid nodded before gesturing herself to the chair and blanket set-up. “Behd?” 

Alucard cleared his throat, as he stoked the beginning flames of the fire. “My room was… damaged, yes.” 

Seemingly content with that answer, the mermaiden turned her attention to other parts of the room. 

Off to the right there were various bookshelves and texts. And on the left? A modest oak desk sat under a large painting of a beautiful woman. Her hair was golden, almost appearing to glow under the warm hue of the fire’s dancing light. Her eyes were large and hopeful, and her size petite but strong. In her hand, she held a white flower, although its beauty paled in comparison to hers, it was a lovely touch against the dark maroon dress she was wearing. 

“Prehty,” she said, stopping to admire the woman in the painting. 

Upon hearing her words, Alucard looked up, a soft smile having formed on his face. “Yes,” he said. “She was beautiful.” 

Glancing back at the man, the mer creature noticed his hair was blonde and rather lovely as well. Not as gorgeous as her own siren’s locks of course, but that was understandable. She pointed to the hair of the woman in the painting before pointing to her own, and then finally, to his. “Prehty too.” 

✧ ✧ ✧

From where he stood in the kitchen, Alucard watched amusedly as the young woman tried taking a bite of her grossly undercooked fish using a knife and fork, stifling a laugh every time she would manage to grip one utensil only to drop the other. Her less-than-human approach to everyday things made Alucard feel at ease. She was not a lying, conniving human he had to watch out for, she was not biding her time waiting to stab him in the back. Quite the contrary: she was blunt and rather oblivious to human social conventions. 

She had very little reservations when it came to nudity, Alucard had come to discover. If it wasn’t for his polite, insistence, she would have continued to roam the castle naked. Dwelling deep underwater made her rather immune to things like catching a chill. Alucard was similar, he did not feel the cold the way humans did, although he was not entirely immune to it. He would surely suffer frostbite should he choose to venture outside in the dead of winter without any clothes on his back. However, unlike a human, and more like a vampire, it would take more than freezing exposure to do him in. 

It was almost comforting in a way, to share the castle with someone who’s biology was surprisingly close to his. She was more unhuman than human most days, her residual scales and sharp claw-like nails coming back once her body had returned to full-health. Her teeth had also increased in length, although Alucard suspected she could control their sharpness at will to some degree, her opting to keep her incisors short and squared, more human-like, whenever the two would talk walks around outside the castle. 

The mermaiden also had an interesting diet. She preferred her food cold, if not raw. Even things like fish and other meats, she refused to eat properly cooked. Alucard briefly recalled the first time he had tried to offer her dinner. He steamed her fish the same way he steamed his, and presented it to her, expecting gratitude. It was humourous now, but back then he recalled being rather dissatisfied with her indignant reaction. She hissed, and berated him for serving her something ‘burnt’, or ‘burrrnt’ as she had called it. 

Alucard discovered it was less of a preference and more of a requirement when he found her eagerly licking the blood from a freshly killed and skinned hare he had fetched for dinner. It seemed that she, like him, and like the many other supernatural creatures, had a penchant for blood that was born out of a necessity, and not mere cruelty. With her diet of raw and bloody food, her skin appeared healthier- still as shiny and translucent, but less gray. Her human form’s skin was less cakey and dry, and when she did change back into her tailed form, which was rather often given how much she enjoyed lounging in one of the castle’s large communal baths, her scales shed much less than they had when they first met. Upon her initial arrival at the castle, Alucard found she’d leave scales behind her wherever she walked, the same way a lover might lay out a trail of rose petals. Of course in this case, there was no intimate surprise waiting for him behind closed doors (not that he’d want one given his past circumstances, anyway), but a very brash and temperamental half-siren, usually impatiently awaiting yet another “useless” lesson in human conventions. 

“Naught fun-ie,” she hissed, under her breath, well aware of Alucard’s amusement. “No need for toools underwater.” She dropped both her knife and fork unceremoniously onto her plate before crossing her arms, looking like a wilful toddler. 

“There’s no one to impress here,” Alucard assured her. “Besides, even without a fork and knife I’m sure you eat like a magistrate compared to Belmont. The rodents outside have more manners.” 

“Belmonnt,” the fair maiden repeated, picking up her fish with her bare hands. “Frrend.” 

“Yes. Although, I haven’t seen him or Sypha for quite some time.” Alucard answered, just a hint of loneliness creeping into his voice. 

“Hadd frend wonss.” Biting into her fish, she tore a chunk of flesh off with her teeth, a satisfied groan leaving her body as some of the excess moisture dribbled down her chin. “Huumann too.” She swallowed her bite of fish down, not bothering to chew much at all. “Dyed.” She licked her lips in satisfaction. “Beectraaid.” 

“Wherever humans are concerned, such possibilities are never in short supply.” Alucard agreed, handing her a cloth napkin to wipe her chin. “It is their nature.” 

Choking down the rest of her fish, the mermaiden swallowed harshly again before asking, “Owtsighed?” Of course, the two giant stakes housing decayed corpses had not escaped her notice on their way inside. 

Alucard retrieved her empty plate, moving to place it in the sink. Closing his eyes, he desperately tried not to remember the feel of the silver cords burning his skin, the way he suffocating under Taka and Sumi’s gaze, how if it were not for his sword and the magical component of it, it’d be his body flayed and strung up outside instead of theirs. Despite not having had anything to chew or eat, Alucard swallowed hard as well. 

“Yes,” he finally said.  

✧ ✧ ✧

“Where are wee going?” The mermaiden asked, her vocabulary and annunciation having improved much over the last couple of weeks. 

Dressed in a relatively sheer nightgown and robe, the young woman begrudgingly followed Alucard, already dressed for the day, as he led her over to the remains of the Belmont hold. Upon reaching the cleverly designed pulley system, Alucard lifted the safety bar of the lift and gestured for her to get in. 

The young mer woman bared her teeth but did not hiss, a vast improvement of manners and trust on her part. 

“You may recall in the past, I’ve mentioned a man named Belmont, Trevor Belmont.” Alucard set the bar back down, clicking it into place, before pulling one of the levers to begin their descent. 

She nodded. “Friend. Miss him.” 

Alucard furrowed his brow. “I do not believe I’ve once said I missed his company.” 

The young woman shrugged her shoulders, a form of nonverbal human communication she had recently picked up on. “Still,” she wagged a finger, disapprovingly. “Can tell. No want to be alone.” 

Having reached the bottom of the lift, Alucard secured the platform before exiting, seemingly eager to remove himself from their current conversation. “I speak his name frequently because he has gifted me a rather large piece of his family’s inheritance for safekeeping. Without my permission, I might add.” 

Flicking a large switch on the wall, the mermaiden watched in awe as hundreds of blue flames suddenly sparked alight, illuminating an expansive cavern of towered rows and rows of books and other meticulously organized collections. 

“This,” Alucard extended his arm out, showcasing the vastness of the space before them, “Is the Belmont Hold. It possesses all the knowledge the Belmonts learned on creatures of the night, the collection starting generations ago. Everything any Belmont learned has been recorded onto paper, and stored somewhere within these tomes.” 

Temporarily blindsided by excitement, the mermaiden found herself quickly making her way down several sets of stairs, her balance thankfully having improved tenfold, as she ignored the darker implications of Alucard’s words. 

“So much boooks!” She cried out, settling on entering a random upper row of tomes, pulling one out of the shelf. “So much papper!” 

Alucard nodded, coming to join her. “I take it your people do not have much use for such records underwater?” 

The young mer woman nodded, running her clawed fingers delicately over the inked pages. “Runes. Maghik. No paper.” 

Carefully, Alucard took the book from her hands and placed it back onto the shelf where it belonged. Before the mermaiden could bare her teeth or hiss at him in irritation he had already begun climbing down a nearby ladder, calling for her to follow. “Come. The books are impressive, but they are not what I wish to show you.” 

Reaching the lowest level before her, Alucard smiled softly as his eyes were met with the familiar scene of a magic mirror, and open chest. How strange to think he and his friends stood on this very ground when Sypha successfully managed to summon the castle. How strange to think right there, under his feet, was where Adrian Tepes died and Alucard of Wallachia truly began. 

There was a time when Alucard believed he and he alone would be the one to ever stand upon this, practically hallowed ground. Belmont was not yet sure if he wished to resume the responsibilities of his namesake. And Sypha, well, Sypha had chosen to follow Belmont in whatever trouble he managed to get himself into. Who knows if they would be back, if they ever intended on coming back? At the end of their journey, there was Alucard, left alone to shoulder the burden of both their families’ legacies. 

Trevor had told him not to make the castle his grave, but to use it and the hold to… help people. Such a task seemed near impossible when you were one dhampir, isolated far away from the rest of the world. But then, Alucard reflected, along came Taka and Sumi, and perhaps, he had once thought, he would no longer have to be alone. 

They were so eager to learn, but they were also so eager to leave. They did not come intending to stay, Alucard knew this, and yet, he could not help the way he drew their lessons out, making sure to be as detailed as possible. If they must go, he supposed, he could make it so they did not leave for a while. It was foolish to think his desires would go unnoticed by the two humans. More foolish perhaps, to expect them to understand. Alucard had been wrong. 

They sensed he was less than forthcoming, Alucard could not deny that was true. But he never lied, not once to them. But in their humanity, in their hurt and in their pain and guilt and anger they felt they were deceived. Perhaps deception was so readily on their mind because they had arrived with a plan to play him for a fool all along. 

Either way, it was fatal on their part. Alucard may have wanted them to stay, but he did not need them. They alleviated his loneliness, but they were not necessary companions, not like Trevor or Sypha. They were far too different, far too divested from the line of existence Alucard walked to ever truly understand him. Being human, they ignorantly believed themselves to possess so many options of their own, but as fate had proven: they too were wrong. 

But this young woman, this siren, this mermaid, she was different. She did not come seeking him, rather their meeting was entirely accidental. And this time, the playing field was even: she needed him just as much, if not more, than Alucard wanted her. It was different this time. Here, within the Belmont hold and his castle, she was the outsider. And no matter how long she stayed with him, no matter how hard she tried, she would remain less human than Alucard. Next to her, he was not a monster or a beast, no. 

At her side, he appeared solely as Wallachia’s savior, Alucard, and he was neither human nor monster. 

Coming back to the present moment, Alucard watched silently as the mermaiden approached the glass display case of vampire skulls. He watched as her eyes widened, and her fists clenched, before she spun around, her fangs bared. “Exsplain, now!” 

“The Belmonts hunted creatures of the night for centuries. They came to Wallachia hunting Dracula and his army of vampires.” 

“You said Belmont friend!” 

“He is- was. As I have said to you before, he aided me in my journey to defeat my Father Dracula, to prevent him from securing the extinction of the human race.” 

The mermaiden tilted her head to the side. “Buut why? You vampire.” 

“Not entirely,” Alucard countered. 

The mermaiden’s eyes squinted. “What?”

“The woman in portraits you’ve so admired within the castle, she was my mother, Lisa Tepes, and she was human.” 

Enraged, the mermaiden’s face contorted into an expression of anger, her nostrils flaring with every huff of air she took. “Liar!” She accused him, making her way around the side of the cabinet, trying to move past the dhampir without encountering him directly. “You said humans betrayed! You said not like them! You lie!” 

“I did not lie. I never told you I was wholly vampire, nor did I once say I was not part human.” Alucard mirrored her movement, cutting her off before she could reach the stairs. “I aided humanity only to be betrayed by humans. I do not belong in their world, nor do they belong in mine.” 

“Nor in minesss!” She snarled. “You human. Not friend. Not anymoresss.” Shoving past Alucard she began up the stairs before she felt a hand on her wrist yank her back. Whipping around, she found herself face to face with Alucard, his expression angry, his fangs elongated and on clear display. 

“And where will you go? Your human charade may not disturb me but it is bound to alert others. There is no city, no town where you could travel that they would believe you to be one of their own.” His voice was deep, dark, and full of disdain. 

“Then I go home,” she retorted. “With othersss like mee.” 

“Do you think they will accept you now you’ve lived with a human, lain with a human?” 

“Half,” she spit into his face before sneering: “Half huumannn.” 

Alucard did not even flinch, entirely unphased by her vulgar action. “Human nonetheless,” he said, the ice in his veins offset only by the golden fire in his eyes. “Not even they would welcome you back now. There is nowhere you can go, no one who would welcome you. I,” he spoke, baring his fangs, “am all you have left. I am the only one who understands.” 

The mermaiden opened her mouth to speak, but could not find the words. She closed her mouth before opening it again, still hesitant on how to respond. If it was not as serious of a moment, Alucard would have laughed: she truly looked like a fish out of water. 

Careful as not to spook her, he slowly raised one hand, using it to wipe away a stray tear that had fallen from her eyes. How strange a sight to see a siren crying, awful yet beautiful at the same time. Like him, Alucard thought. 

“You are the only one who could possibly understand me. You need not ever leave.” Alucard used his other hand to take one of her own, and guide it, resting it atop his chest. “I do not wish to be alone anymore.” 

The maiden choked back more tears, shocked she was shedding them in the first place in Alucard’s presence. 

Prior to those horrible humans taking her, tears were not something the mermaiden had ever experienced. Living underwater, she was surrounded by saltwater. Even on the occasions she was consumed by great emotion, her eyes behaved no different, felt no different than they did being in their usual full-contact with water as they were everyday. But after she was taken, she found the ability to cry, something she despised. It burned the skin of her cheeks with hot shame, her throat felt too tight for air: the process of crying was foreign, and undeniably painful. She prayed it would not become a normal occurrence for her. She swore the moment she was free of her captors, she would never shed a tear again. And then she met Alucard. And he was…

Sweet. He was kind. He was not an ignorant, vengeful human. Surely, he would not give her reason to cry. They were of the same kind, she and him. He would harbor no hate for her in his heart. 

How foolish of the girl to think hatred was the only feeling capable of creating pain, of making remorse. Afterall, ‘love’ was just as powerful. ‘Love’ was just as dangerous. 

Deep down, the young siren knew the dhampir’s words were true: there was nowhere else she could go, there was no one else who would understand her, and care for her the way he did. 

In fairness, he was not fully human, he was half vampire, and his father was the great Lord Dracula to boot. He was not simple in the way other humans were. He was not stupid in the way people were. He was educated and well-aware of the fragility of egos, the slow passing of time… He did not look at the world through a mortal lens. The mermaiden knew she could do worse, in choosing someone to trust, in picking someone to rely on. 

Then again, he was half-human. She was wise to fear him, to doubt him. He may have meant what he said, when he told her she need not leave, but that did not mean she needn’t want to. But she was so far from home, so far from more of her own kind. Who else left in this region ravaged by night creatures and monsters would open their home to her the way he had? Perhaps it was wiser to stay. 

Did she even possess a choice in the matter?

Even withIn the arms of that former stranger, she felt more forsaken than she had when those evil traders first captured her. She felt so alone… Gods… 

She, too, wished not to be alone anymore. 

“Ssstay.” 

“What?” Alucard’s head snapped up at the sound of her words. “Truly?” He could not help the hope that seeped into his voice. “You wish to stay with me?” 

Before him, the mermaiden nodded, yet another human expression she had come to love over the past few weeks. “Yessss,” she hissed out, her voice still nasally from her earlier tears. “I ssstay.” 

A/N: Holy shit! Almost 8,000 words here. And to think I did it all while fighting the worst virus of my life! (See, THAT just goes to show you how strong my love for Alucard is. 

Don’t forget to Like & REBLOG!!!

And if you enjoyed it, feel free to Tip Me on Kofi! 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Pugnacious 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, arranged marriage, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: the day has come to do your duty as a noble daughter.

This is part of the Three Sisters for Three Misters AU (this reader is know as Wren)

Characters: James Conrad

Note: We've rounded out the trifecta.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You stare at the empty stable and growl. White hot rage ripples through then subsides as you let out a long breath. The days of letting your mother rile you are behind you. You rescinded her power over you at your sweet sixteen when she made you wear that ridiculous clown suit. No longer will her victories needle deeper than the twitch of a cheek. 

You flick your lashes up and twist on your heel. Suzanna gives you a guilty look as you pass. It isn’t the groomer’s fault. Your mother does as she wishes, so much so that she can’t help make others align with whatever those wishes may be. Well, you’ve agreed to do your duty, she’ll have nothing else out of you. 

The furrow in your brow eases and you put on a smile. The one you’ve trained since you were a girl. It’s rather convincing. Even she buys it sometimes. Though, since you’ve grown into adulthood, your mother does seem rather wary of you. Good. 

You roll your shoulders to free yourself of the last of the tension and breeze inside. The furor of the evening’s preparations greets you in a cacophony. You see Nancy frantically pulling lacy table mats from the closet and Annalise thunders demands in the kitchen. 

Before you can reach the stairs, your mother appears like a witch in one of those childhood movies she forbade you to watch. Well, all your friends had them and no matter what she thinks, she cannot command all. You keep your lips curved and bat your eyes innocently. 

“There you are,” she proclaims and gives a sniff, “and you don’t smell like a barn.” 

“Mother,” you retort, “I am on my best behaviour. Do you need to rub the salt in?” 

“I am only making sure you are on schedule. Tonight is very important.” 

“Oh, wow, I had no idea it was,” you say dryly. 

“Get it out now,” she snaps. “Our guest will not appreciate that lip, nor will I stand to be embarrassed.” 

“Motherrrr,” you draw out the word, “you needn’t worry for me. I gave my word and despite my lineage, I do know how to keep it.” You tilt your head wryly, “but you will have Lottie back in the stable tomorrow or you might question my integrity.” 

She frowns, “I only sent her out to be shoed. Don’t be so paranoid.” 

“I know what you’ve done, mother. She’s my horse.” 

“You are not a girl anymore,” she girds. 

“Don’t I know it,” you sidestep her and proceed upstairs. 

To describe your mother cannot be done in a single word. You have more than a dictionary’s worth for her; overbearing, conniving, heartless, soulless... Yes, well, you have faith that whoever she’d bartered you to cannot be worse. You don’t know that there’s any in existence who could even match her. 

“Wait,” she calls after you, “have you seen your sister?” 

You don’t ask which one. Either of them are prone to disappearing. Better they do than you. You would be certain not to be found. 

As you come down the hall, your name wrenches you back like a leash. Your father keeps his voice low as he waves you closer. You turn and stride toward his office door. He can be as stubborn as your mother but he has his moments of softness. At least, for you. You think it’s only his natural obliviousness that makes him seem unkind. 

“Eh, how’s the Queen of Darkness then? Has she sacrificed a maid yet?” He whispers. 

“Father, really? Even if she heard you, she can’t be bothered,” you shake your head. “She has horse-napped Lottie so that I can have no joy on this special day.” 

“Oh, lovie, don’t be so pessimistic. It is about time. You need a husband. Eh, I need you to have a husband. You and the others. I count myself a lucky man that I’ve found you such fine suitors and you should measure your own fortune the same,” he tuts. “There aren’t many true gentlemen left.” 

You hold back a sigh. He can be amiable but he still rules over you all with the same iron. As you are to your mother, you are still merely a title bearer. Your duty comes before anything else. Yes, well, your husband will have his duty too, won’t he? 

“Right, well, I don’t need another lecture. So if you want me to thank you on my knees for a stranger, I will not do so. I am already marrying him, that should be enough gratitude,” you insist. 

“Oh, daughter, don’t be so hard. Sometimes...” he hesitates, “yes, sometimes you do remind me of your mother.” 

“Rude,” you snip back. “Father, I shall see you at supper.” 

You turn and storm down the hall. You slam your door. You’re already over today. But you can’t be. This isn’t just about you, it’s about your sisters. Chicky, your youngest, will be fine. She has her way of just getting by, but Wren... she’s another matter. You’re more nervous about them than yourself. 

You get out of your riding clothes. It’s as if your mother is setting you up. As if she wants you to act out. She does love drama. Even when you’re going along with her machinations, she does her best to ruin them.  

You pull on your red robe and go to your en suite bathroom to start your routine. Cleanse, moisturise, tone, makeup, hair... You leave your lips bare, not trusting yourself not to lick it off. At least your mother can be thankful that you enjoy getting all prettied up. As you set away your makeup, you hear a door in the hallway. 

It’s safe to assume it’s your missing sister. It’s closer than Wren’s door, it must be Chicky. You peek out before you emerge and go to knock on her door. You enter and give her wry look. She has paint behind her ear. You won’t mention it. 

“There you are. Mother’s been squawking all day.” You intone. 

She glances at you in the mirror and shrugs. You give her a pointed look. Playful, not serious. You laugh and frame your hips with your hands. 

“Please, let me do your hair so she doesn’t tear it out.” You insist. It’s as much a favour to her as yourself. You need to keep busy. 

“If you want to,” she gives another shrug. She’s not as particular as you about her hair. 

You near her and eye the dress hanging from the vanity drawer. Pink, short, and fluttery. “Oh, that dress is so you.” 

You touch the neckline and play with one of the facsimile petals. She takes her blush stick and blots her cheeks.  

“What about Wren? She’s usually much more elusive than me,” Chicky asks. 

“Oh, yes. She took her nose out of her book for five seconds to get the witch off her back.” You recall your other sister’s dull stare as she faced your mother at her bedroom door. You take a comb and start at the ends of Chicky’s hair. “Even after a lifetime, she can’t really accept that this is what we were born for. I worry for her but she locked her door.” 

“And probably climbed out the window,” your sister chortles. She’s probably right. 

“Always the most clever of us.” You agree and focus on your task before you find your voice again, “are you nervous?” 

She looks at you in the mirror. Her shoulders rise once more. She tries to act like she doesn’t care but you know she does. You do too. 

“Strangers, aren’t they? But mother and father were too,” she says. 

“Mm, and look how well that turned out. I don’t think they’ve been alone together since right before you were born,” you hiss. 

“Likely not... but mother says the men are well-bred. Polite.” 

“Frigid,” you smirk. You know exactly how gentlemen are. And you’ve gathered that these men are older and established. Will they even have the energy? They are looking for status, not lovers. “You must read between the lines. That is how society talks. They never say the truth, the toe around it until it kicks you in the teeth.” You slide a pin into her hair, “I’ve asked around but people never talk about interesting things, do they?” 

“No, not really,” she pouts then stretches her lips in a goofy smile. “Am I pretty, sister? Will mother approve of me?” 

You laugh and shake your head, “oh, it will be quite the night, won’t it?” 

“Don’t act as if I will be the only menace. And I’m not so worried about mother, as she shouldn’t be of us. We have to impress these men, not her, right?” She argues. 

“Impress? Well, I shouldn’t need to try for that. He can win me over. Tradition and all,” you retort. You aren’t looking to endear a husband, he’s already been snared. You will be what he needs. A wife in title, not in your heart. You won’t delude yourself to think society has any room for love. 

You give a start as the door clicks. You look back as Wren enters and pushes herself to the door. Her eyes are wide and her hair is just as manic. She never has been able to rein in her strands. Her mane seems to reflect the stubbornness she carries so quietly. 

“I saw one,” she says. 

“Saw one?” Chicky drones. 

Wren hushes you and scurries closer. There’s a leaf in her hair and you can smell the oak on her. She’s been in her tree again. He glasses stick of her tresses crookedly and her book threatens to slip from under her elbow. 

“He’s tall. Blond. Look!” She gestures to the window. 

You look to your other sister and she stands. You both approach the window and peer through. Wren hovers behind. 

“Oh, wow, isn’t that typical? Aan antique car. Well, Wren, you should hope he’s yours then. By the looks of it, he’ll spend more time with that beast than you.” You scoffs dryly. 

Wren whimpers as you hear her fussing. You can’t imagine tonight will be easy for her. She doesn’t do well with strangers. And by her expression, they might assume she’s annoyed rather than anxious. If only they knew how lovely your sister truly is. 

“Mm, he has manners. He is chatting rather intently with Reginald.” You remark. 

“Yes, Reginald can be rather chatty,” Wren grumbles. Well, she may be a bit grumpy. 

“Well, Kes,” Chicky faces you, “you said you asked around. What did you hear?” 

“Like I said, gossip is rarely useful,” you sigh. Marcianna offered you crumbs and you don’t have the patience for all those other gabbers. “Mine, Conrad... he’s not much history in ‘society’,” you nearly spit the last word. “From what I’ve gathered, he comes from a well to do family. I heard more of his brother than him. Frustratingly mysterious.”  

You cross your arms and sit, “then there’s Laufeyson, Wren’s match. He does have quite the reputation. A tricky man. I’m not entirely sure why mother and father chose him but no offense, Wrenny, you are a middle child.”  

You don’t mention all that you heard of him. To think your mother chose him for her. Well, it isn’t a match you would have made but if need be, you can set more than your own betrothed straight. 

“Mm, I’d say better than no one but no one sounds rather nice,” Wren bemoans.  

Chicky laughs, amused by the comment. You can’t help by empathise. Wren is right; no one does sound lovely.  

“And me?” Chicky asks.  

 “Pine. Proper gentleman by my measure. Never a toe out of line. No mystery, no scandal. He sounds like he was created in a factory.”  

“Boring?” She sniffs.  

“I wouldn’t expect any of them to be more than,” you check your nails. “But we should try to pretend they are interesting.”  

“Forever,” Chicky adds.  

“Forever...” You echo. “So is our lot, yes? We must make the best of it. Get through tonight, then the wedding, and when all is said and done, we can still be us.” You hook one leg over the other and lean on your hands. “I’ll take Lottie with me. She’s a loyal stead and I’ll need something fun to ride.”   

You wink and Chicky giggles as your implication. Wren whines and sways at the very thought. Oh, how will she ever face her wedding night?  

“Wren, you can take all your books and add a thousand more to your shelves. You could build yourself a castle and lock yourself away to read forever,” you try to comfort her, “and Chicky,” you turn to your other sister, “you can just be you. Go out shooting or dancing or shopping. As long as our duty is met, we will be free. Truly. No more mother, no more father. We will laugh in their faces and say ‘no’.”  

“I hope you’re right,” Chicky refocuses through the window. You haven’t the heart to tell her that the man below is hers. She’ll find out in due course.   

“I do too,” You say. “Think of it this way, we want out of this house. This is how we get out. Then we have our own titles, our own rights, and our husbands, well, they can have their own hobbies.”  

Chicky turns back completely and nods. She returns to the vanity. She’s in a rare state of apprehension. You don’t dare mention it. 

You put your attention to your other sister and lighten your tone, “So, Wren, you look ready to meet your beloved.” 

She winces and you almost feel bad for the joke. No, you have to be strong. For both of them. And you will get through this together. Husbands be damned. 

[yuurivoice]

Back when Seth first moved to the city, how was his reaction after seeing his Ma after so long (since I assume the last time he saw her was when he was a kid)?

Don't quote me on this because this might conflict with some shit I've said before but I don't think she was just completely missing from his life until he was a fresh faced 18 year old and he just ran off on a whim.

I think what hits way harder is years of broken promises, letters telling him she was hitching a ride with Santa this year to come see him, missed birthdays, and post cards from all sorts of places across the country. Maybe she showed up a couple times, ended up leaving in the middle of the night when they were going to do something nice the next day. Shit like that.

I don't think Seth is actually dumb enough to go from zero contact to moving in with her. I think he was strung along and heart broken several times over, and left home in hopes that if he went to her, she couldn't just leave him behind.

And she didn't. Until she did. Again.

I like the idea that Seth has been desperate to find a reason to love her, forgive her, accept her. And she's just continued to give him every reason no to.

It's a nice foil to how the trio's individual and shared connections have worked. Not only is there an element of trusting someone to love you despite your failures and faults, but there's the leap of faith to accept that love.

Not to excuse Jessie's behavior, but I imagine that for whatever reason, there's a part of her deeply terrified of fucking things up. For her, removing herself has been the lesser of two evils. It's better she leaves than hurt Seth worse...but it's sort of a self fulfilling prophecy. She avoids that commitment out of a fear of failure because something has convinced her that if she fucks up when trying, people will retract their love and care for her. If she pulls away first, she avoids that...what she thinks is a selfless choice is actually the selfish one.

You know, fucked up shit like that!

So when Seth finally got there, I imagine there was a period of time where things were too good to be true. Jessie would have had more money than made any sense, lots of spoiling and whatnot, but like...she wasn't rich. Every red flag you could think of, then Seth met Derek and the rest is history.

Seth probably did his best to be ignorant and naive but never shook the feeling that it would all go up in flames.

[meanbossart]

its funny looking between his former fixation (orin) and current one (astarion) and noticing he has a very obvious 'type'. what made him so taken with orin, though? what did he like about her? did he not have any initial misgivings? was he ever concerned she might turn on him?

B)c Please know how happy it made me to finally have someone spell this out lmao. It's absolutely true, at least within the dynamic that DU drow shared with each of them; there are a lot of parallels to be found between Orin and Astarion.

The tough part of this question however, is that I have a very difficult time pinning Orin down. She's easily the most elusive character out of the Chosen, and while I understand this Is likely a consequence of being underwritten, I also see a certain charm in a character who's lack of development is part of their tragedy - whose story is very much about not being allowed much individuality of their own, and having no resolution. I think this is a space worth playing in.

I couldn't tell you what the hell Orin likes, what she was like besides blood-thirsty and deranged. I can barely fathom her sitting down to have a conversation with someone. Think about it - she was raised from childhood in the Bhaal temple, both her parent's were faithful servants and she was essentially groomed from birth to be either Bhaal's Chosen, the Dark Urge's consort, or a sacrificial lamb. Nobody had ANYTHING to gain from allowing her to develop any humanity.

Of course, this doesn't mean she doesn't have any, deep inside. We see glimpses of it in fairly difficult-to-get dialogue regarding her origins during act 3. My very vague take on Orin is that she was a determined and persistent person who learned to make her circumstances work for her as best as she could, who had a strong sense of her boundaries but a horrifically difficult time differentiating between negative emotions - this is why I personally don't even know whether she """"led DU drow on""" our of malice or self-preservation. Perhaps she didn't know either - I think whenever Orin felt sadness, discomfort, anger or even happiness or love, she found a way to turn it into bloodlust and sadism, every time.

And it's in part this elusiveness that would have attracted DU drow. What did Astarion have to do to get DU drow to pursue him? He had to feign disinterest, he had to pull away - the fact that Orin never allowed DU drow to get close enough to truly know her plays a significant part in how unhealthy his attachment for her became.

That said, this was a long game - he did become infatuated pretty much from the moment he saw her when they were both teenagers. This is a much simpler concept to understand - he was profoundly emotionally inept and neglected, and she was probably the prettiest thing he ever laid eyes on, not to mention the only other person in the temple close to him in age.

Truth is, they did have a lot in common on the very basis of having been so thoroughly stripped of their humanities, but It was a closeness born entirely from circumstance - the implied vulnerability in the type of life they shared together, even if they never spoke about feelings or shared what normal people would qualify as a "sweet" moment. They didn't really use their words, and when they did, they were like daggers - twisted murder sibling banter.

But when they had to work together it was very different. They played off each each other like match and friction, like two fitted cogs turning a wheel. There must have been nothing that swelled DU drow's heart more than when they killed together, perhaps even more than when Orin hurt him. He loved seeing her in her element and yearned for nothing more but to be let into the joy she found in it.

He Never had any misgivings. He always thought she would come around (to him) eventually. He was completely and entirely blind to how much her resentment towards him grew throughout the years, how he lost a sister through wanting a lover.

[hephaestiions]

author reclist: toomuchplor

a few months ago, when i was coming back to fandom in earnest, i came across this post from @sitp-recs. explorations of faith, divinity and worship are some of the tropes i find most furiously compelling, so i had to jump into o come, all ye faithful as soon as possible. i did, only to fall headfirst in obsessive, wide-eyed, awe-inspired love. @toomuchplor writes a desire that's both slow and heady, relentless and gentle, all-consuming and a rest stop to breathe easy. i couldn't help but read through (most of) their catalogue in a matter of days. this author's thematic range is astonishing, their characterisations lead to delicious stories where two headstrong, wilful and perennially longing men crash, fumble and rush into achingly sweet love and burning lust.

what always spools me in with plor, though, is their use of circumstance, especially in longer fics. every fic has a premise iron-clad in its fascinating, inventive, raw and exciting potential. more often than not, i've found them doing something i haven't encountered before in fandom at all, or reworking a popular trope in ways that make you go, 'oh. oh, i never thought about that happening, how did i never think of that happening?'

i've loved everything i've read from them, but here's a selection of some of my absolute favourites that i'll be going back to, over and over:

i've got a beautiful feeling (everything's going my way) (E, 3.5k)

“I’ve got such a boner,” Harry says, voice scratchy, just slitting his eyes open now, turning his head on his pillow to face Draco. “Oh, lovely, good morning to you, too,” Draco says.

a slice of life like the plush inside of a ripe mango— a love that's mature, constant, beating like a strong heart. the filthy, hilarious, gorgeous portrait of harry and draco's married life— the familiarity of sex, the rush of wanting each other as much as ever.

o come, all ye faithful & all the angels cry amen (E, ~22k total)

In which Draco finds faith in the church, and Harry finds faith in Draco.

an achingly tender rumination on faith as love, and love as worship. one of the most heartbreaking and realistic depictions of the reckoning it would take for harry potter to accept he has found refuge and rest in draco malfoy's arms. i loved the non-chronological, dual timeline storytelling— that particular form works so well when there's a taut, twinging thread holding both narratives together, and harry and draco's gravitational attraction to each other, fraught in parts and at peace in others was the perfect anchor.

time and too much don't belong together (E, 23k)

A Malfoy family heirloom gets triggered in a raid, binding Draco Malfoy to Ron Weasley; neither of them is too chuffed about this.

a masterclass in revelations. the reader can tell, from the outset, there's more here than meets the eye. the reader can also guess, from the beginning, what the dynamic in the shadows is. tense and breathtaking writing, you know what's coming, but every time you're fed a morsel you cling to it with both hands. one of the most inventive takes i've seen on the lust potion/spell trope in this fandom, and done in a way that makes you want to see it over and over and over again.

polar night/midnight sun (E, 54k)

Harry travels to arctic Norway on the trail of dragon egg poachers, only to find he's been assigned to work alongside the only NorMagPol Auror north of sixty: one Draco Malfoy. It's been ten years since they crossed paths, and Malfoy isn't exactly what Harry expected or remembered. For one thing, he wears a lot more hand-knits? When a sudden winter storm strands the pair, unable to use magic to rescue themselves, they take shelter in a one-room Norwegian hytte.

exquisitely atmospheric. uses extenuating circumstances in some of the most delicious ways. builds character and interpersonal dynamics through those small little elements of storytelling (draco in knitwear! brynjar the dog! the mundane pillowtalk! the quirks of their miscommunication!) that go the longest way in having characters leap off the screen into your personal space. also the sex in this is absolutely mind-blowing, i was hooked on every glorious word.

truth to materials (co-written by lately) (E, 58k)

In which Harry learns to appreciate art and other pleasures of the flesh.

decadent. in premise, in language, in characterisation, just absolutely decadent. this version of harry, bewildered and captivated by draco's out-there artistry is one of the funniest and most endearing i've encountered in fic, ever. his head, so full of determination and good intentions and terribly flawed and completely believable thinking, was such a brilliant place to set this fic. and draco— lord. you know that moment of transition, that click, when a piece of art goes from something untouchable and distant to a soulful thing you keep close because you recognise it as a cultural, emotional response? this fic felt like a literary project trying to capture that click, except it's a shift in perspective about a person. draco— the cool, untouchable, subversive artist who becomes irrevocably, warmly, achingly human.

probationary action (E, 63k)

As part of the terms of the probationary contract, DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY shall submit for inspection his WAND on the last day of every month, such inspection to be carried out by a duly registered and fully qualified AUROR in the employ of the MINISTRY OF MAGIC, and such inspection to include a PRIORI INCANTATEM spell to ensure that no PROHIBITED MAGICS as heretofore described have been practised by the aforementioned probationer.

*incoherent screaming*. a fic that starts with a premise so lighthearted and filthy that you think it's going to be a long, kinky fic about two rather hilariously perverted men getting it on, except it also gets into some of the most resonant discussions of post-war revenge tactics and human rights neglect i've ever read. the dynamic between harry and draco is simultaneously so light and so weighted, this is a fic that holds you down and keeps you there till you're done.

in conclusion: an entrancing author, a gift of a writer. i can't wait to see what else they have in store for this fandom.

[ukeshik]

You decided to go to a strip-plastic class instead of your usual dance class, and he came to pick you up.

Jean x reader 16+

Summary: You didn't make it to your regular dance class, so you went to a strip-plastic. And Jean saw you dancing. Cw: 2.8k

This is a reblog because I was blocked at that moment, and almost no one saw this post. But if you suddenly saw this, I would still be pleased if you would support me with a like or comment)

"Come on, girls, one more time!" shouted Melanie, the choreographer who leads the class on Thursdays at eight o'clock.

After her words, music began to rumble around the hall, and the other girls began to return to their places, having previously put their phones with the camera turned off against the wall to film their creation. They really worked hard today, the dance routine was quite difficult, but almost everyone coped.

It was really great. Quite intense, but charged with sexual energy, the music resonated from the walls and beat into the ears, it pierced right into the very heart, the rhythm was clear and fast. The girls ran their hands over their bodies with smooth, precise movements, knelt down, turned over and rose again, arching their backs in beautiful curves.

You really felt good. You felt beautiful, plastic, sexy. You even put aside those worries that you had at the beginning of the class, that you didn't have enough muscle stretching to perform some elements, but now you felt so great that it was absolute trifles.

Melanie counted down to the beginning of the choreography and all the girls moved to the rhythm of the music. You ran your hand over your head, outlined the contour of your cheekbones, pulled your leg to the side and ran your hand over it as well. You took your breasts in your hands and squeezed them, then abruptly spread your arms to the sides, shaking your head, which caused your hair to fly beautifully to the sides. You knelt down, spreading your legs wider to "jump" a little. Pulled your leg to the side, then shifted weight onto it, showing your ass in the mirror, which bounced with the right movements. Jumped up on the spot and stood with your legs spread wide, touching the floor with your hands.

You felt pleasure from the way your muscles move, the way they tense up, the way your heart beats while dancing. Even when your leg starts to cramp, you don't think it's unpleasant. You feel alive, that you can do something, that you create and create with your hands and body. Her hair was fanning out, and it must have looked damn beautiful. And even if it wasn't, you don't care. As long as you don't notice it, you just enjoy and move.

"Come on, get active! I know you can do better! Girls, you are the sexiest in the whole world, show it to everyone!" Melanie shouted in the middle of the choreography, provoking everyone.

Melanie's words had an effect on the ladies present, and they really began to move even better, even more actively and clearly. After a few eights, you sank back to the floor with your legs open and covered your pussy with your hands, playfully moving your shoulders. At the end, you did a somersault back, more like just a roll, and stood in the final pose, bending in your back, almost touching the tip of your sock to the top of your head.

Yes, at first it seemed to you that some of the movements were too much. Grabbing your intimace parts, it's so indecent to bend over, open your legs and show off your body... but that was the point. To feel yourself. Your body. Your beauty. Your divinity. To put the shyness far away and feel only pleasure from yourself. To see the beauty of the female body and all its superiority.

So you quickly picked up on the point and... just got high from it. Although you already felt like an absolutely happy girl, beautiful, loved, desired, it was a slightly different type of pleasure. A sense of self-sufficiency and self-confidence, absolute faith in yourself, your body and soul.

Stroking your body, showing it to yourself, seeing all its strength and plasticity was incredibly pleasant. And adjusting to the music, singing along, jokingly moaning and opening your mouth in a sexy grin was also... not so bad. You just got into the taste and felt no worse than the other girls who came here regularly.

When the choreography was over, the girls finally relaxed and, lying on their backs, clapped their hands and cheerfully shouted and whistled, smoking praises and compliments to each other. The last of their strength had gone out of them and they could only let their muscles come to their senses and only then get up and turn off the recording of their cameras.

"Girls, you are amazing! You are simply magnificent! You did an amazing job! It looked just fucking awesome!" Melanie shouted to all her students and clapped them back, "my most beautiful, sexiest and hottest girl, yes! Gorgeous!”

Slowly, everyone got up and began to gather. While everyone was rushing to the mirror, where there were lots of phones, empty water bottles or other things, you just sat there and took a deep breath. Your muscles ached after such an intense new load. You are not used to this kind of movement and stretching, as you usually went to other dance styles, such as Vogue or dancehall.

In general, you were brought here by accident. Due to traffic jams, Jean didn't manage to get you to the dance studio in time, where you study, so you had to go to another class, which was a little later, because you didn't want to miss your workout just because you were late. And the next direction was only strip plastic.

And you really liked it here. At first you were doubtful, you thought that you would not have enough preparation, but according to the advice of experienced girls, you just warmed up well before the start, asked one nice girl to help you stretch your muscles and everything turned out ... just great. So far, you haven't had much pain, but tomorrow morning you'll probably feel your muscles clog up and you'll barely get out of bed. But this was clearly another reason for your boyfriend to be able to carry you in his arms (no, of course, you can get up, but you can jokingly ask him for such a favor. He won't refuse).

"Hey, whose handsome guy is standing there?" one of the girls from the whole group asked, nodding towards the window that was in the wall of the hall so that people could see from the corridor what was happening in class.

And indeed, there was one handsome man standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, which caused his biceps to swell and pull the fabric of a white tight-fitting T-shirt over himself. You lifted your head and looked through the mirror where that girl pointed, and your eyes widened.

You clutched your cheeks and fell back a little theatrically, curled up in a ball. Of course you found out who it was. Because this handsome man, with such a beautiful hair color, such a cool haircut, such a beautiful face and eyes, with a damn good body, so smart and just gorgeous... was yours. And he was standing there. He looked right at you and grinned with his usual teasing smile, which made you blush again.

You moaned softly into your hands and turned from side to side, then raised your hand up, still covering your "embarrassed" face. "Mine...!" you replied and laughed, spreading out on the floor in the shape of a star. The girls picked up on your laughter, and some even clapped at you, feeling some envy, but someone was really just glad that someone had such partners.

You caught Jean's eye in the mirror and smiled at him through your laughter, waving at him in embarrassment. He waved back at you, too, and smiled less cunningly, more gently and lovingly. He should have come here... Kirstein definitely saw everything you were doing here. You noticed out of the corner of your eye that someone was standing at the window, but you didn't pay attention to it, you were busy with something else. So it was definitely Jean. And he saw everything. Every move you make. Your every touch.

"Girl, you're lucky!" several girls said together, staring at your amazing boyfriend. You realized that if you don't come out now, then one of them will definitely climb up to Jean and beg for his number or something worse.

Therefore, quickly getting up from the floor, you went to the wall and took your phone with a bottle of water, and thanking Melanie for the lesson, promising to come here again, you left the hall and immediately turned right, laughing approaching your beloved.

Spreading his arms apart, Jean was waiting for you to finally come up to him and hug him, and when you did, gently wrapping your arms around his waist, he briefly kissed you on the top of your head and laughed softly himself, seeing your slight embarrassment.

"Babydoll, this is very impressive." Jean pulled his head back a little to look at you, still holding his arms wrapped around your shoulders, and that grin that you hate so much, but adore at the same time, appeared on his face again. At such moments, he just looks like a contented cat. Or a fox.

"Who let you in here anyway?" In an overly high-pitched voice, you asked Jean, who was now gently stroking your back in circular movements. Of course, you knew that almost anyone could come here, so it wasn't such a big surprise for you to see your boyfriend here, but you won't admit it. Still, some part of your soul was still a little confused.

A lot of other girls and guys were passing by, and especially those girls from the group you were in were looking at Jean, smiling sweetly at him and winking. Of course, you knew that he saw other girls dancing in this hall, but you were sure that Jean was only looking at you. Only. You. You knew that he would never look at anyone else but you. In any case.

"And no one told me that i can't come here." said Jean, grinning. He lowered one of his arms a little lower and slipped it under your arm, placing it on your waist to gently squeeze your soft side. It almost made you twitch on the spot, but already used to such actions on the part of this obnoxious naughty guy, you stayed where you were and just shrugged your shoulders, pretending as if you were a little annoyed that he was still able to get inside.

You knew he was going to bother you with this now. Joking and teasing, and always in a seductive way. Jean will poke at you with this for the rest of the day until he falls asleep.

"I'll go change, wait for me in the car, okay?" You said with a little snort. You knew that if you left Jean here alone, the girls would definitely cling to him from all sides, because he really was a diamond and a sweet prey. He looked too good for this world, and periodically you didn't realize that you were the one who got him. You squeezed his waist for a second in response, but due to the fact that this damn handsome guy didn't have much fat, your movements turned out to be quite ticklish, but Jean didn't even move, just grinned.

"Oh, is someone jealous?" he chuckled and grinned even wider, just feeling obligated to tease you about it. There was fire and playfulness in his eyes, in other things, almost as always. Rising on tiptoe, you gently kissed his slightly prickly cheek and broke away from his tenacious hands, maneuvering through people towards the locker room so as not to listen to his teasing. Rolling your eyes, but smiling stupidly, you stumbled into a women's locker room full of girls and went to look for your drawer.

You finally left the dance studio on the street and wrapped up your jacket (Jean's jacket, which you godlessly took away from him before going out, referring to the cold snap in the evening and did not lose. But in general, you often took this jacket away from him) so that your heated muscles would not inadvertently blow through. You quickly moved to your car parked on the side so as not to detain Jean and climbed inside into the front passenger seat, throwing your gym bag back.

Jean turned more towards you when you finally threw the bag back and chuckled softly, because of this, fixing your gaze somewhere down when you tiredly leaned back in the seat, sliding down a little. You glared at him with displeasure and he looked at you again, now with a more gentle smile.

"You were the most beautiful there," Jean said softly, reaching out to your face to remove a strand of hair stuck to your forehead due to sweat. He gently ran his fingertips over your skin and removed the interfering hair, remaining in the position he was in, slightly bent closer to you.

"Oh, thank you. I know." Jean laughed softly at your confident answer and involuntarily laughed softly because of it. Although the warmth and tenderness of your beloved's words were spreading inside you. It was really nice for you to know that he felt that way. And you knew that Jean was saying all this sincerely

"So that's what you always do there. I didn't understand why you like to go dancing so much." he began to tease you, looking straight into your eyes to see how long you would last under his onslaught. And of course you knew about his methods of playing with you, so you always tried to leave your gaze in place, only if Jean did not start saying some outright obscenities when passion was burning between you.

"Hey! It was my first time there! I usually go to other classes, it's just that today we were late and I didn't get to my usual class, and..." you began to say, proudly patting your eyelashes in front of him in order to have time to think about what to answer your beloved and not embarrass yourself in front of her with your stuttering or silence, into which you could sometimes fall..

Somehow it turned out that Jean had never seen you dance before, except for those times when you danced with him, either in a nightclub or in a restaurant that Kirstein regularly takes you to, because in addition to delicious food and pleasant surroundings, there are always great musicians and couples there they are circling in the center of the hall. And you just didn't like making recordings of your dancing in the hall: then someone climbed into the frame, then you just had an unfortunate location in the hall, then you didn't like how you performed the bunch....

"And anyway, don't complain." you said proudly and still turned away, crossing your arms over your chest, looking ahead through the windshield. There were small puddles on the asphalt, apparently it rained while you were inside. "You should be glad that your girlfriend is in such a fucking shape."

"Honey, no complaints, just admiration." Jean replied with a laugh, holding up his hands to show you that he was unarmed and had fallen under your spell. "I'm really just thrilled. You were so... lifting your leg, it's like that! How do you do that?" Jean began to wave her arms intensely, jokingly trying to repeat some moments that she remembered from what you were doing in that hall. His attempts caused you to laugh uncontrollably and you grabbed the door, leaning your temple against the cool glass while laughing. He even pretended that he was going to lift his leg, trying to explain what he was talking about, but thank God he didn't do it. His long legs barely fit into the car, let alone any other body movements.

"I didn't know you had such a stretch," Jean said with a grin in a playful voice, leaning back in his chair, starting the car to go home. Yes, you didn't know yourself that you can still be so flexible and plastic after a good workout, so you obviously didn't show Jean such skills in bed.

And from the fact that he mentioned it, something inside you shrank, you just snorted softly, turning away from him to the car window, at the same time to hide the smile spreading on your face, "Let's go already, fool!" you said in a low voice, not really meaning it, but yours again The embarrassment that appeared spoke for you.

Jean took the steering wheel in his hands and, holding the gas, drove off, taxiing onto the road. His sinewy, strong forearms tensed, showing his muscles even better.

"No, seriously. How did you spread your legs like that? It's almost a twine! You didn't tear any muscles there, did you? If you can do the same, it will be interesting the next time we are...."

"Jean!"

[randomthefox]

Why do so many Sonic fans hate the developers? Why do they think they are stupid? "Uuuh why is Chaos island here? It takes place in the future! Are they stupid!. Why are they trying to piss me off!?" Dude. These are Japanese people. The second country with the highest IQ in the world. Whatever the reason may be, it was was not done out of stupidity. At first, Sonic x Gen 'saved the franchise' but one week later it sucks because it didn't feature levels or elements that you SPECIFICALLY wanted to see? Wtf is wrong with you???

Oh but when Ian Flynn does something similar to this, it's not his fault. He's peak, and everyone that disagrees is stupid. Because SEGA ARE THE BAD GUYS

Wtf

"They're japanese people, they have a high IQ" is a bit much, but I understand where you're coming from and what you're trying to articulate. People have a bad habit of seeing something they don't like or agree with in a piece of art, and then jumping to the worst possible explanation they can think of for why it was included. Just being as bad faith as they possibly can, imposing malice or ignorance onto someone because of a personal subjective feeling they have to what was included in the artwork.

It's not unique to Sonic but since it's trendy to hate on the Sonic video games and Sonic Team and SEGA, it is amplified through that filter of culty mass hysteria.

I don't normally resort to doyalist explanations but in this case it really is the only one you can use - there weren't levels from Sonic Forces and Sonic Frontiers in the original Sonic Generations because those games hadn't been made yet. It's not like it makes any sense whatsoever to lump Sonic 2006, Sonic Unleashed, and Sonic Colors together as if they're a coherent era of Sonic. But that's a retroactive conclusion. Sonic Generations was made in 2011 (probably under a VERY short development time) and they worked with what they had. Shadow Generations was made in 2024 (also probably a short development time) and there were three whole new games worth to pull from in the time inbetween.

The idea of people being upset about its inclusion is so dumb and silly to me x3 For reference, this was my initial reaction to that level

When people ask why was Chaos Island included from Frontiers, they're asking the question wrong. They're asking "Why was a level from Frontiers included?" When the more interesting question is "why was THIS level from Frontiers included?" Why Chaos Island instead of any of the other Islands? There's probably multiple answers to that. I find it very conspicuous that they included the volcano erupting in the background during the level.

Meaning that during Shadow's level, Sonic was playing pinball. So the question of "why didn't Sonic see Shadow on Chaos Island?" is answered because we know where Sonic was during this part of Shadow's game. There's no lingering wonder about it. They didn't just throw Chaos Island into the game willy nilly, they spared the time to think about how they would make it make sense to say that Shadow was running around in that location during the events of Frontiers without causing a time paradox or contradicting what happened during that game. They didn't just throw an erupting volcano in as a set piece for no reason. They were not thoughtless in how they implemented this level.

The idea that Chaos Island being included took away a spot that could have gone to another level from Shadow 2005 or something like that is just silly. It reminds me of when people would get angry at Piranha Plant being added to Smash Bros. "THEY'RE TAKING AWAY A SLOT THAT COULD HAVE GONE TO DANTE!" That's not how it fucking works bro. This isn't the divine lottery. They're MAKING the game. Chaos Island being cut from Shadow Generations wouldn't mean that it would be replaced with a level from Shadow 2005 that you would want to be in the game. It would just mean the game woulda had one less level, lol.

But yeah I predicted people turning on Shadow Generations. I gave them too much time if anything, I predicted it would take at least a couple months. They didn't even make it one. Like I said and have said and will keep saying: these people HATE Sonic. The people who were saying "I've never been this excited for New Sonic stuff before! We are so back!" during the preview hype around Shadow Generations? They HATE Sonic. They are tourists. Scavengers who will pick daintily at the game and then leave it bleeding and gaping, unsatisfied.

And yeah naturally they are blatant hypocrites. More than half the reason they were initially so slavish about the game was because of Ian Flynn's name being in the credits. These people are absolute fucking cultists.

lunatics.

I have no doubt that the reason they're starting to sour on Shadow Generations is because Katie made a tweet which basically said "dude, this game isn't bloom fully formed from the singular mind of Ian Flynn alone" and then ABT had to latch on like a male anglerfish being absorbed into a disembodied pair of gonads saying that Ian Flynn didn't do nuffin and everything bad about the games writing is everyone elses fault and comparing Flynn to Jesus.

As soon as the memo started getting passed around that Shadow Generations isn't Ian Flynn's Sonic game after all, that's when the wave started to turn. It's very transparent.

They are a cult of haters pretending to be fans. Wolves in sheeps clothing. Naturally everything they say and do it insincere and psychotic.

[tokoumaru]

★ mondstat boys' voicelines about you!

feat. diluc, kaeya, albedo, venti tags. voicelines, pure fluff, gender neutral reader, friends/coworkers to lovers! word count. 3.7k  tw. hinted spoilers (?) in kaeyas and albedos part, mentions of fatal injuries in diluc’s part

synopsis. genshin impact boys and their in-game voicelines about you!

voiceline series. part 1: liyue, part 2: mondstat, part 3: inazuma, part 4: sumeru

diluc ragnvindr

About You (Friendship Lv. 4)

The Knights of Favonius... The majority of them are incompetent both in their actions and in their will. However, I do acknowledge the potential and resolve the minority of them hold. Take (Y/N) of the 8th Company for example, they’re adept at the art of Electro and channel their elemental energy into their catalyst flawlessly. Both their unparalleled combat ability and unwavering sense of justice make them potentially one, if not the only, reliable knights currently acting right now... that’s if they decide to get out of bed consistently.

More About Diluc: A Game of Chess (Friendship Lv. 5)

Angel’s Share is known for being Mondstat’s center of information. Occasionally you’ll find me working at the bar, though sometimes I simply visit in discretion. However, it’s beyond me how (Y/N) never fails to recognize me in spite of the perfect disguise and flawless secrecy I put forward. Despite being known for their indolence, they’re always present at the tavern and somehow insistently challenging me to a game of Chess. It’s been a long while since I played chess with anyone... yet their skills make mine look that of a Grandmaster’s. Although they may have strength almost parallel to mine, it seems their strategic thinking may use a little... haste. Brute force and morality without thorough planning will get you nowhere... It seems that (Y/N) is acutely aware of this fact. I truly applaud them for taking matters into their own hands despite their idle disposition. However, I had never agreed to be their mentor or their chess ‘master’. Still... seeing their persistence makes it hard to decline them.

More About Diluc: The Darknight Hero’s Shortcomings (Friendship Lv. 6)

I’m sure you’re aware of the Darknight Hero’s true identity by now... Witnessing the Knights of Favonius’ incompetence first-hand, I find it impossible to trust them with responsibilities concerning the protection of the city. I didn’t intend for it to be recognized, but it’s true that I’ve taken it as my sworn duty to protect Mondstat from the evil that lurks in the dusk of night... though by no means did I expect to earn such a childish title. Listen, no matter how powerful you are, working day and night without rest will wear you out. Back then, I ignored this blatant fact and instead chose to press forward foolishly, disregarding any long-term effect this choice had on my wellbeing... If not for (Y/N), I would have died at the hands of my own ignorance. That night, there were an alarming number of Abyss Mages situated in Windrise. Despite being aware of my fatigue, I had rushed on to take on more than I could handle... this had been my fatal mistake. Luckily, it was one of the rare nights (Y/N) chose to patrol. At seeing my struggle, they had hastily defeated the rest of the Abyss Mages with no hesitation whatsoever. I owe them my life. Truthfully, I insisted on repaying them for their deeds... However, all they wished for was  for me to stop throwing myself into precarious situations so they wouldn’t lose any more sleep... how befitting of them.

About You: Partners in Crime (Friendship Lv. 10)

From the moment (Y/N) had extended their help on that faithful night, they had insistently accompanied me on my duties as the Darknight Hero, no matter how much I said otherwise. Truthfully, they were only a nuisance at first... managing to fall asleep on most missions. I had no interest in idle chit-chat and only wished to protect the city from the looming evil. Though, after a dreadful night where I had sustained a handful of injuries, they had thrown a fit at seeing me. That night, (Y/N) had repeatedly reminded me that I was a citizen of Mondstat as well, and that it was their duty as a Knight to protect its citizens. I was about to protest, knowing that I had no use for the Knight’s so-called protection... Though, seeing the evident worry on their face, my brewing argument seemed stuck in my throat.. Walking alone in darkness, I had instinctively shunned all those who tried to walk the same path as me. I used to believe that the path to vanquishing all evil had been a lone one. However, seeing the feelings (Y/N) held for me... I have to admit that I was wrong. Despite their rather consistent indolence, they’ve proved their unyielding will to protect the citizens of Mondstat, which they insist includes me… Now, not only do I owe them my life, I owe them my entire being as well. Just as they wish to protect me, I wish to do the same for them... I can’t afford to lose them.

kaeya alberich

About You (Friendship Lv. 4)

(Y/N), eh? When I first met them, they seemed like the naive type, so I decided to joke around with them a little. They were Lisa’s little library assistant, so I had simply asked them for a copy of ‘Legend of the Lone Sword I,’ which was commonly known for being of Liyuen descent. Haha, you’d think someone who’s stationed inside a library would know exactly what books the place holds... To my surprise, the following day they had disappeared completely causing quite a stir among the Knights. It was only until dusk did they reappear at the tavern, earnestly holding the entire ‘Legend of the Lone Sword’ series just for little old me. Ahaha, I was quite stunned, to say the least. I was about to sincerely thank them for all that trouble... until Lisa pulled me off to the side and boy was she angry. I still get shivers at the thought of it...

More About Kaeya: A Long Needed Break (Friendship Lv. 5)

The title of Cavalry Captain is nothing to get excited about. When Grand Master Varka took the rest of the Cavalry for his expedition, it seems that as the Captain, I was left to shoulder the legwork all alone. Oh, woe is me, a Cavalry Captain without any cavalry to captain, running around Mondstat fending off all its evil. I must say, even someone as diligent as I, needs a break at times. Aside from Angel’s Share, the Knight’s library is the perfect place to take a breather. Compared to the hustle and obnoxious paltry of the tavern, the library’s peaceful silence is one that I truly prefer after a long day of tedious work. Speaking of... Lisa’s little assistant, (Y/N), seems to have taken a liking to my company. Instead of the serene silence you’d expect, the library’s usually filled with (Y/N)’s excitedly hushed whispers foretelling stories about the most recent book they’ve read... quite endearing, I must say. Heh, their ardent enthusiasm makes it hard for me to say anything, so they simply can’t blame me for dozing off on them. Although, it seems that they don’t mind my negligence at all, and each time I somehow awake from my little nap with a small blanket laid on my shoulders. It’s truly a shame the library’s oftentimes desolate, the sight of the Cavalry Captain napping with a bright pink shawl littered with floral patterns would prove to be a great source of entertainment for the Knights.

More About Kaeya: Endearing Misadventures (Friendship Lv. 6)

The Reconnaissance, headed by Captain Eula, is usually in charge of scouting Mondstat’s wilderness. *sigh* Though, ever since the Grand Master’s expedition, the Knights have been completely short-handed... So much so that it seems Jean couldn’t help but send (Y/N) and me off to scout the unusual activity happening in Dragonspine. Knowing how protective Lisa is of her little assistant, she couldn’t help but protest fervently... It’s a shame that Eula and the rest were truly too busy to focus on such a newly appeared threat. (Y/N)... Oho, you shouldn’t underestimate them, no matter how docile they may appear. The expedition to Dragonspine went smoothly... except for one faithful instance. Unfortunately, at the inner ruins of the icy environment, we encountered a few Fatui Skirmishers and an idle little Ruin Guard at bay. As it was only (Y/N) and I, I couldn’t help but promptly activate the Ruin Guard. Ahaha, am I truly at fault for trying to use all our means to defeat an enemy? Although (Y/N) was quite appalled at the sight, my strategy was a success and the Fatui Skirmishers couldn’t even hold a candle to such a machine. Well... We were successful up until the Ruin Guard decided to put its sights on us right after. Truthfully, I had already expected this outcome... Though, what I didn’t expect was for the little library assistant to shove me away from the automation in an attempt to save me from its attack. Heh, I didn’t expect such a tiny being to hold such fervor in them. It’s a shame they’re confined to such an idle library when they’re fully capable of decimating a Ruin Guard on their own... It seems like I might have a recruit in tow. Though, I’m not sure I would like to be at the receiving end of their scolding twice. They’re full of surprises, calling their own captain overconfident and reckless to their own face— when they had started shedding a few tears out of their frustration at my carelessness… they’re truly quite fascinating.

About You: At the End, With You (Friendship Lv. 10)

(Y/N)... Truthfully, they had only been a source of passing entertainment for me. Tell me, since when exactly have they been a source of comfort as well? Since when did I come to the library in search of their company instead of for its silence? That... I cannot tell you. Hmm? Do you mean to tell me that my gaze has changed? Ever since that incident at Dragonspine, you say? Haha, it seems that you’ve caught me red-handed. It’s true that I hold (Y/N) dear to my heart, and truth be told, it was a tough decision to let them in. I suppose I’ve encountered my fair share of partings and where my loyalties lie is something I still ponder over... There will come a time when I will have to make an imperative choice between two sides of the same coin. As for (Y/N), I chose to be with them despite knowing what inevitably lies in store for me... It was simply because I have full faith that they’ll stay with me no matter which path I decide to take. You’re happy for me? Why thank you, Traveler. I know you’ve noticed my... inherent loneliness for quite a while now. Hehe, I believe it’s time to rest easy.

albedo kreideprinz

About You (Friendship Lv. 4)

(Y/N)? Ah, they’re certainly a faithful assistant. At first, they had only opted to observe a great deal of my experiments for fear of blunder. It took a while for their nerves to wear off, but once they were confident they wouldn’t err, they had made my results all the more worthwhile. Either way, knowing we share the same passion for uncommon knowledge makes them truly pleasant to work with. Although they may be quite uncoordinated at times, I have absolute faith in their exceptional abilities as an alchemist and most importantly, as my assistant.

More About Albedo: Experimental Mishaps (Friendship Lv. 5)

A number of people call me a ‘genius,’ but I don’t think I'm any ‘genius’ at all. Situated in the isolated environment of Dragonspine, most citizens haven’t seen the number of experimental mishaps that occur. Although my experiments may be dangerous, no one gets hurt most times. Ah... Actually, on one occasion my assistant, (Y/N), had a mild allergic reaction to one of my experiment’s ingredients. They were reduced to constant sneezing, to the point where I had to postpone the proceeding experiment due to their inability to function properly. Normally, I would be quite displeased at having time wasted like this however, it seemed that I had discovered an entirely new subject to study. (Y/N)... How was it possible for one’s cheeks to turn so ruddy in such a short period of time? Did their continuous sneezing prompt the sudden rush of blood in their facial structure? Truthfully, I didn’t notice I was staring at them quite intently until they had bashfully turned their trembling back on me, mumbling incoherent sentences... How could one’s backside seem so small in such a moment? To be able to hold such a fragile part of them... It wasn’t until they had decided to simply run away in embarrassment that I snapped out of my train of thought. To this day, I can’t help but wonder why my sentiments had landed on that specific matter...

More About Albedo: A Need for Data (Friendship Lv. 6)

(Y/N)... Ever since that experimental mishap, I have been inclined to study their disposition; with their consent of course. At the first mention of my proposal, they had quite an explosive reaction and dropped a few volumetric flasks on the floor. I paid it no mind, my attention simply on obtaining their response regarding the matter at hand. Seeing the crimson spill on their cheeks once more, my intrigue had been reignited... I was truly honored that (Y/N) had promptly agreed, albeit a bit bashfully. To formally start the process of this new experiment, I simply decided to sketch a portrait of (Y/N). I asked them to sit comfortably on their usual designated chair in the laboratory... I didn’t expect the process to last half a day- and even in that period of time, the portrait lay only half finished. Reflecting back, it seemed that I was dissatisfied with each stroke of my pencil... Nothing I did at that moment could accurately capture the scene in front of me. What was I lacking? The lighting was ample enough, the view of the laboratory was decent, the coat (Y/N) was wearing was simple and brought them enough warmth, their expression was lax and soft, their cheeks their usual ruddy color, their eyes... Ah, this was a variable I hadn’t expected.

About You: The Meaning of this World (Friendship Lv. 10)

When master had left me with my final assignment, I was completely lost. To find the truth and meaning of this world was something far beyond the limit of my abilities, I had believed it was beyond my being as well. Thus, the only task I was able to complete was the journey to Mondstat. Although deeming my final assignment almost impossible, there was nothing I could do but earnestly uncover the rest of the unknown, hoping to find at least a single clue. Relationships, especially ones that are built on love, had only been a trifling matter to me. I had once seen relations with people as taxing and time-consuming cycles... To be proven wrong by my own assistant, (Y/N), had been quite a pleasant surprise. Our relationship was certainly an experiment which yielded results that required an entire lifetime’s worth of attention… Thanks to them, I felt the refinement of my own emotions. Whenever they were with me, an influx of unknown feelings had garnered within my being and subconsciously, the urge to hold them close had overtaken the tedium of relations. I must ask you a question... when parents speak to their children about ‘the meaning of this world’, do they simply mean the pursuit of a happy life? This may only be wishful thinking, but if this was what master had intended... perhaps I may have already found the answer.

venti/barbatos

About You (Friendship Lv. 4)

(Y/N)! They have amazing taste when it comes to beverages of the alcoholic variety, after all, they’re the tavern’s best bartender! My sincerest apologies to Charles and Master Diluc themselves, but the way (Y/N) brews up your common Dandelion Wine and turns it into something special is truly worth a song or two. As we’re both avid alcoholics, it’s a given we both get along truly well— two peas in a pod I must say. Mwuhahaha... Don’t tell Master Diluc, but they like to sneak me some Apple Cider on the house, truly the kindest being to ever grace the lands of Teyvat!

More About Venti: The Dawn of the Winery (Friendship Lv. 5)

Ah, Traveler! By any chance, have you seen my darling (Y/N) around? My tummy sure is rumbling, but I can’t get caught pilfering food from Dawn Winery again... Usually, my brave little bartender would swoop in to save me during these times of hardship but it seems like they’re nowhere to be found. Hmmm, they must already be at the orchards waiting for me then. Hehe, they’ve always claimed to know me like the back of their hand after all. Shh... You mustn't say a word about this to Master Diluc, Traveler, but I can’t say this has been the first time (Y/N) and I snuck around like this. Ah yes, I can still remember the first time they’ve ever extended their kindness to a simple wandering bard such as me. The dawn of the day was still approaching and I had spent my entire night drinking away at the tavern! It was only until Huffman kicked me out did I realize just how famished I truly was... and that day I just so happened to have heard that Dawn Winery had just restocked their apple supply. Why, just the thought of it makes my stomach churn! Well... How should I put it? The chances of success for a drunkard bard such as I to be pilfering apples from an orchard are quite slim, right? It’s too bad I didn’t realize it then, but thankfully just as Master Diluc was about to catch me devouring the last of his fresh apples, my savior (Y/N) came down from the heavens and saved me. Ah, they could’ve handled me a bit better though, although I may be a drunkard, I’m still a person and absolutely not a sack of potatoes to be dragged around. Haha, I don’t mind at all though, considering that they apologized profusely afterwards and even offered to become my personal apple supply from that day on! At heart, they truly are a kind person. Reminds me of another good friend...

More About Venti: Perfect Places (Friendship Lv. 6)

Traveler! Oh my, our courageous Honorary Knight looks quite exhausted, it  must be hard running around the city quelling everyone's needs. Hehe, just between you and me, let me tell you the perfect place to take a quick rest. It’s quite a long way from the city, but the further away the better for you it seems... The view from the tip of Starsnatch cliff is absolutely breathtaking! Paired with the calm breeze that passes right through and you’ll definitely lull yourself to the land of the nod. Right in the dusk of the night when the moon is at its highest peak, you can often see me at the tip of the cliff munching on an exquisite apple. Hehe, you’ll find (Y/N) right beside me as well, who do you think brought the apple? I’ve written numerous songs about them to express my sincerest gratitude, but I don’t think any of them are worthy enough for my darling savior! After all, they serve me a few free drinks at the tavern, give me a whole bunch of fresh apples from Dawn Winery, and continuously choose to stay by my side... In the most innocuous moments, I can’t help but be consumed by an idle guilt stemming from memories long ago. To be with (Y/N), simply adoring the view of the stars above us, basking in the gentle touch of the winds, and happily exchanging petals of plucked cecilias, reminds me that perhaps his sacrifice wasn’t for naught... There are truly no melodies to describe how grateful I am for them. Hehe, it would be nice if the two of us could simply sit on that cliff edge forever.

About You: The Test of Time (Friendship Lv. 10)

To write a song is no easy task, but you’re in luck, after all, I’ve been crowned the “Most Popular Bard of Mondstat” three times in a row. Just look around you, Traveler! The lands of Teyvat are bountiful, its oceans vast, and its firmament ever-lasting— each gust of wind carries the memories of scenes that pass through time and if the citizens of Mondstat would just look around them, they would see that there’s no shortage of inspiration at all! After all, every living being deserves a name to be called upon and woven into a song. Hmm? You want to know about my latest work of inspiration? Ohoho, you’re in luck, my dear friend! Ah, my dearest (Y/N)... It’s truly a shame that songs are confined to a few minutes, there are too many words I want to say to you. Oh Traveler, It’s been a great many years since I felt this arduous passion burning inside me... It’s a feeling I’ve truly missed and I must say I owe it all to my charming savior. To have lived a millenium, I’ve overseen the growth of this city right from the moment it rose forth. I’ve met countless people, both pleasant and unpleasant... It’s been long since I’ve seen someone as kind and as courageous as them. No being is immortal, Traveler, and everyone will soon face an inevitable end. Even if I may be the Anemo Archon, not even I can prolong the lives of those I hold dear to me... and perhaps even I may meet my own fate. To stand the test of time is a wish everyone prays for... I may simply be a passing wind in this longstanding land, but the tunes I leave behind is a mark that no erosion can erase. Remember me, not as Barbatos, but as Venti, a simple wandering bard whose songs he dedicates to his most beloved, (Y/N).

a/n. I think I messed up albedos character AND lore completely. FORGIVE ME!!! he had to be the hardest to write between all the mondstat boys... also i think that it was a bit harder to write established relationships with these ppl so naturally i had somehow made it a friends to lovers typa thing! once again FORGIVE ME IF IT WASNT WHAT U GUYS EXPECTED :<< I am the queen of mischaracterizing genshin men

[comicaurora]

I mean, you've said before that the greek gods were more reflections of what was true then what was good. Life was cruel, unfair, and horrible, so the gods were too. People probably didn't like poseidon very much, but they probably didn't like floods or earthquakes or serial r*pists that much either. I kind of assumed it was very much a 'reverence via fear' thing.

It's a reasonable assumption, but it's important to recognize that it is an assumption.

Most of us do not live lives with many gods in them, and the cultural permeation of christianity has produced a sense of theological normalcy where gods are typically found in the Singular or in the One With A Lot Of Saintlike Sidekicks arrangement. This presumes a nature of divinity that is both benevolent and very divorced from the practicalities of day-to-day life and which typically only acts in the form of rare and irreproducible "miracles". The tropes of godhood we recognize are sunbeams in churches, eyes pointed heavenward, faith and belief over skepticism. Even in fictional stories that are totally separate from reality or are evoking elements from wildly different religions, these tropes still recur because they have been culturally normalized to the point of near-invisibility.

Like, for example, Young Hercules kneeling in a huge, empty, cavernous temple to pray to a Zeus he isn't sure is listening.

Like all forms of normalcy, we're very impressed the first time someone breaks it for us. "What if these gods DIDN'T work like that?" seems groundbreaking because we don't realize we've acclimated to an outlier. There are many, MANY other ways a culture can see its gods, and there are many reasons to be skeptical of any interpretation of that angle that highlights "their gods are cruel and mercurial because so were their lives." It flattens not only the religion but the lives of the people who practiced it into a Planet Of The Hats trope that just happens to be excitingly different from the one we think is normal. It also buys into the whole "historical life was all nasty, brutish and short" myth which is always something to watch out for in the subtext zone.

Even in the context of Ancient Greece, the gods are characterised wildly differently by different writers. Even just Artemis has been a helpless victim to be rescued by her brother, a cruel and unforgiving mistress to her followers, an arrogant young girl violently put in her place by her queen, the mistress of the muses and foremost of the goddesses, a protector of young women, a killer of young women, an untouchably expert hunter, and a hundred other things. To say "hunting is a risky business and that's why Artemis is Like That" is to diminish her and reduce what could be centuries of fascinating cultural and personal context down to the literary equivalent of "damn that shit's pretty wack, so anyway."

The fact is we will never know for sure why these gods were characterized and worshiped the way that they were, because these religions died out centuries ago. We can make educated guesses, but when we aren't certain, we shouldn't act like we're certain. This is an angle of context I like, but one of the most risky parts of tumblr-brand academia (and now its sequel, tiktok academia) is that confident, quick assertions lodge in the audience's head like facts, and this is not a space where facts live anymore.

[destinygoldenstar]

I LOVE seeing headcanons related to Kai's powers. Like in the show he uses his power as a light source and that's cool, but people online go beyond that and come up with cool ideas of variety he could do as an elemental.

My favorites include:

The flame shield we saw with his True Potential. With how destructive fire is, you'd think his would be offensive like Zane's is, but no it's the opposite. I think that's poetic with how True Potential functions with the master's discovery of themselves. Zane's is raw power from his heart and soul because of his acceptance of his identity. Cole's is strength from his strong will to stand up for who he is no matter the weight and pressure. Jay's is teleportation and flight because... faith trust and pixie dust? Idk that one confuses me a little, someone help me there. Kai's is a shield because he is a brother at his core. That's his fighting purpose. It's to protect his family, blood or surrogate. His fire is a protection barrier for the people he loves.

Speaking of family, the idea that he has a higher body temperature than the others, and it doesn't affect him negatively. Maybe it causes heat strokes in intense environments, but idk for sure if that's a problem for him. So he's just a space heater half the time. Especially for his siblings like Nya and Lloyd. You're cold? You're sick? You're cuddling with Kai and staying warm, and he ain't letting you go. Unless you're Jay, then he might tell you 'can't wait to go to your funeral knowing I could've changed that outcome'. (Lloyd goes limp cause he's part dragon)

The flames change colors when in certain sources like the crystals from Elemental. I never knew I needed that. But I think Kai would just like to play with it around Lloyd to cheer up the angsty child, and Lloyd likes it because ooo pretty lights. Imagine using this for like a bedtime story for someone. He also would do it to frame other people for pranks. 'Oh the ashes are green well clearly Lloyd did it' 'Oh its rocks it's gotta be Cole'. It almost never works.

He's afraid of water because he can't swim. That's how I interpret it. So when you splash him with water, he's just frowning. And it depends on who does it. If it's Nya, he goes, "...ok." If it's someone else, he goes, "What'd you say to me?!" If it's someone like Jay, he goes, "So you have chosen death." My point is that despite the water paranoia, he likes taking baths, especially before bed. He'll tell you he hates them, because they make him do it before bed. They do it to calm him down because if he goes to bed mad, or has a panic attack, or has a nightmare, his powers could go off the fritz and he burns the bedsheets. He likes it as a calming thing, away from stress of the day. He also likes the bath salts, again his flames changing colors with that stuff. Half of the time it's ingredients from that Sereni-tea from that Wu's Tea shorts. It's a therapy medicine for him.

BLUE FLAMES. YUS. This is one that I wish we actually saw in the show because that would be awesome. He doesn't use it very often because it's hard to control and maybe damaging, but that's why he only uses it when he's just... out of control of himself. Imagine a nightmare of a situation where an enemy just takes it too far. Severely injures one of his siblings, for example. Then you just see the fire turn blue... you'd run for the hills if you were them. That man is angry. ANGRY angry

These aren't mine. I did not come up with these. I've just seen these scattered online everywhere, and I love it, and I love art of it.