#in that abandoned version of Persuasion

[ennaih]

Every Film I Watch In 2023:

70. Bank Of Dave (2023)

[utilitycaster]

Honestly it's incredible how masterful the hints within the story are regarding Liliana - how she is the darkest version Imogen could become, how she will tell her daughter to run away from the storm and then turn around and lure someone else's son into it. How she, someone who became entangled in the Vanguard while frustrated by a lack of answers and perhaps a desire to belong preys on those same insecurities in others. How she abandoned her daughter and then told her it was for her own good. Imogen just needs to invoke her name and the Vanguard recruits jump. Was there a world where she would have listened to a better persuasion check, or would it have just caught her off guard for a round or two?

[gealach-in-a-misty-world]

Tam Becket has hated Lord Lyford since they were boys. The fact that he’s also been sleeping with the man for the last ten years is irrelevant. When they were both nine years old, Lyford smashed Tam’s entry into the village’s vegetable competition. Nearly twenty years later, Tam hasn’t forgiven the bastard. No one understands how deeply he was hurt that day, how it set a pattern of small disappointments and misfortunes that would run through the rest of his life. Now Tam has reconciled himself to the fact that love and affection are for other people, that the gods don’t care and won’t answer any of his prayers (not even the one about afflicting Lyford with a case of flesh-eating spiders to chew off his privates), and that life is inherently mundane, joyless, and drab. And then, the very last straw: Tam discovers that Lyford (of all people!) bears the divine favor of Angarat, the goddess Tam feels most betrayed and abandoned by. In his hurt and anger, Tam packs up and prepares to leave the village for good. But the journey doesn’t take him far, and Tam soon finds himself set on a quest for the most difficult of all possible prizes: Self care, forgiveness, a second chance… and somehow the unbelievably precious knowledge that there is at least one person who loves Tam for exactly who he is—and always has.

"But if you want to be loved, really loved, first you have to be you."

Alexandra Rowland's Yield Under Great Persuasion is a cozy adventure of self-exploration, featuring an unlikable protagonist who becomes less unlikable as he starts working on himself and experiences love and acceptance. It's a soft story about second chances, coming to terms with all the ugly parts of you, and coming out willing to do the work to become the better version of yourself.

On the others side of the equation is Lyford, hopelessly in love with the main character, a paragon of understanding. He, too, learns something: to challenge the one you love and allow yourself to get angry sometimes and stand up for himself, and to stop just accepting whatever's sprouted at him. Together, the two will learn to complete each other and coexist, accept and challenge each other.

The worldbuilding is exquisite, featuring a meddling hearth goddess and her equally meddling siblings. Gods have people they favor, and they bestow upon them gifts that can help others; learning to navigate this favor and find community and acceptance is also a main theme of the book.

But most of all, this is a book about working on yourself and features therapy lingo very heavily.

Yield Under Great Persuasion will drag you to therapy kicking and screaming.

✨ 4 stars

[You can find more of my reviews about queer speculative fiction on my blog MISTY WORLD]

[sweetnothingtm]

i genuinely need simon to be so mean, like mocking and laughing when reader is is begging to cum and calling her names when he finds out she gets off on it. this man has actually ruined me

awooga!! i would drink his spit w a straw ♡

simon riley has a habit to lose his sense of control.

he’s greedy, overbearing and rough - always waiting for you to crack and shatter beneath him. with his dark and haunting presence occupying the blank canvas of your mind, simon painted the devastating picture of you on your knees for him.

your knew it too - eyes wide with excitement and teeth digging into your bottom lip each time his fingers ghosted over your throat. his gaze would pin you where you stood, full lips drawn into a pout, a violent laugh leaving his lips at the sight.

his hands would yank your hair harshly, head falling backwards and the feeling of his hot breath fanning against your exposed skin as you whined.

aww - am i being too mean, love?

it hurts, simon

that’s a damn fucking shame, isn’t it? maybe you should learn to take it like the filthy slut you are.

simon liked to pull the worst out of you.

he reasoned that you could take it, always worshipping his presence like a lost religion. you were desperate and eager for his attention, catching his gaze in the halls and smiling softly, eyes lit up with mischief each night he opened the door.

months spent finding yourself sprawled against his sheets, breaths heavy and uneven as his head rests between your thighs. his words are burned into your skin, the scars still lingering and tugging at the seams of your sanity.

there’s times where he’s got a boot on your cheek, pressing it further into your jaw until you’re crying out in pain. he’d glance down at you, eyes dark with sinister intent as your lips wobble and vision began to blur with tears. simon would sigh, shaking his head in disappointment as tears rolled down your swollen red cheeks.

shut the fuck up and stop fucking crying - it won’t do you any good. get on your knees, sweetheart

yes, sir.

you never did learn how to behave.

and it’s so hard - almost impossible when he seems to abandon all rationality if he catches you slipping up. a missed report, a quick remark, even looking in the wrong direction can trigger an onslaught of his rage.

his presence drowned you out - like a siren lost at sea, you desperately tried to regain ground each time he has a hand wrapped around you, eyes sharp and haunting.

simon savored the nights you spent lying on his bed, figure twisted against his own and back arching at his lingering touches. his voice would whisper devastating and filthy secrets to you, and they stuck to you like shards of glass. he’d come to find out you liked it just as much as him - if not more.

you spoke out of turn one night, hot-faced and receding into yourself, you looked to simon with wide eyes and waited patiently for his punishment. his fingertips brushed his belt, his laugh dark and mocking as you begged for forgiveness.

i’m so sorry, simon - i didn’t mean it

i don’t give a fuck what you meant - i hope you pray to god that i don’t ruin that pretty little face of yours.

he fed you every shattered piece of his heart, lips pulling into a smirk and eyes sparkling with intensity of a forest fire only he knew how to snuff out. you’d follow him like a lost dog, always trying to catch up and gain his attention.

he never made it easy on you.

when you’re pinned beneath him, hot moans and desperate begging filling the room, he’d wrap a hand around your neck and press you further into his sheets. his voice, dark and persuasive, would push you to the edge until you’re clinging on with eyes squeezed shut and body reeling from his greedy touch.

he’d press himself further into you, harsh laughs echoing throughout the room when you’d look up to him and plead. simon became the worst version of himself just for you, his dark chuckles mocking and eyes ablaze with pleasure when you’d moan out his name, clawing at his back in a desperate attempt to regain a sense of control.

he always saw that little sparkle in your eyes, pure ecstasy crossing your features as his thrusts became sloppy against you. simons a glutton for punishment, and you take it like a champion.

you like that, little slut? gonna make me forget you ever tried to disrespect me?

simon - please, i can’t take it anymore

yes you can - i know it. what makes you think you deserve me anyways? nasty fucking bitch

please. please. please

there’s my good whore - so needy and desperate. better be on your best behavior, love. i’m not finished with you yet.

you never meant to give yourself to him in your entirety, but he took it like a stolen vow.

i promise, simon.

[captain-shortyyy]

Why Orpheus turned around

Something i’ve been seeing lately is people saying that because Orpheus turned around to Eurydice, that means he doesn’t love her. And that, my friends, is WRONG! The reason Orpheus turns around is BECAUSE HE LOVES HER!

When looking at the tragedy of Orpheus and Eurydice in general some things never change:

Eurydice dies and goes to the Underworld

Orpheus goes to the Underworld to convince Hades (sometimes named Pluto in certain adaptations) to bring Eurydice back to life

Hades decides to fulfill his request but on the condition that Orpheus walks in front of Eurydice and does not turn around

when Orpheus and Eurydice are so close to being free, Orpheus turns around and Eurydice is sent back to the Underworld.

The reason Orpheus turns around varies from adaptations.

For example one adaptation describes Hades telling Orpheus not to turn around until the sun fully hits his face. When getting back to the Earth with Eurydice, Orpheus notes how the sun has not risen yet, then he hears Eurydice trip behind him. Without thinking he turns around and catches her in his arms. He sees Eurydice’s face in the light of the stars, then she fades back into the Underworld. This is one of the most basic of examples of how much Orpheus loves Eurydice. His first instinct when hearing her fall was to catch her, unintentionally disregarding the rules set in place by Hades to make sure his lover is okay.

Another adaptation begins the same way, however this time Hades tells Orpheus not to turn around until they are both fully out of the Underworld. Orpheus cannot hear Eurydice or feel her behind him at all in this version. Orpheus is so anxious he is walking back alone and abandoning Eurydice that once he exits the Underworld, he turns around, and sees Eurydice still in the Underworld about to cross. Like the last tale, she returns to the Underworld. He loves her so much that as soon as he is able to turn around he does so just to see if she is there, but when he does he loses Eurydice again.

A more modern version of the tragedy is the musical Hadestown, the era of this retelling is based on the Great Depression, which changes the way the characters and their motives are presented. In this version Orpheus and Eurydice still fall in love but Orpheus blinded by his determination to finish his song, which will bring back Spring, that he fails to notice Eurydice calling for him to help her. Hades finds her and offers her a chance to work in the Underworld/Hadestown. Eurydice, seeing no other way to escape the poverty she’s in, accepts and signs a contract giving herself over to Hades to work. When Eurydice sees Hadestown she begins to regret her choice. Orpheus, finally noticing Eurydice is gone, travels to Hadestown to find her and bring her home. Upon his arrival he pleads with Hades and Persephone to let him bring Eurydice home. Hades refuses, sending his workers to attack Orpheus and send him back. Orpheus won’t go though, instead he unites Hades’s workers to revolt. Hades, with persuasion from Persephone, gives Orpheus one more chance to convince him. Orpheus then plays his finished song for Hades, it’s a song Hades used to sing to Persephone to express his love for her. Hades, moved by his song, dances with Persephone. Orpheus then asks Hades if they can go and Hades says “I don’t know”. The Three Fates then express Hades’s worries, if he doesn’t let them go he is cruel and unjust, but if he does let them go his workers will view him as “spineless” and lose respect. With this in mind Hades comes up with a solution, where they can go but one condition; Orpheus must walk in front and Eurydice must walk behind him. If they make it back home without Orpheus turning around Eurydice is free, if not she goes back to Hadestown. Orpheus expresses his fears of this condition, afraid this is a trick. They begin to leave. While Orpheus trusts Eurydice to be there, he cannot trust himself. He begins to believe he is alone and was tricked by Hades. It’s this doubt and anxiety that makes him turn around too soon. While Orpheus makes it out of Hadestown, Eurydice is still a step away. So they fail.

Orpheus loves Eurydice so much he turns around to guarantee she’s really there and that he wasn’t tricked, but this was their downfall.

In all these adaptations Orpheus is so in love with Eurydice that he disregards the conditions set by Hades. He turns around because he is anxious she isn’t there with him. He turns around because he is worried about her. He turns around because he loves her too much to risk her never coming home. That is why he turns around too soon or to see her face or just to catch her when she falls. It’s all because of the love they have for each other.

[formerlycookierunauprompts]

Remember the DnD AU? A record of the time Shadow Milk truly became a permanent resident of the Box during the introduction of Golden Butter Cookie, with him doing literally everything he can think of to keep Golden Butter Cookie directly involved in the plot, and the Dice Gods being on his side because they find it hilarious. Reader Cookie does not.

Requested Prompts #34 - ✦

" So let me get this straight." You say, removing your hands from your face for a second to stare at one of your belovedly detested table members for this session. " You want to abandon the plot I've set up so far... So you can stay in the toy-box?" " That's exactly what I'm doing! Glad to see you understand Reader!" Shadow Milk chirped from his seat at the table, his hands clasped together sweetly. " ... And somehow, you actually rolled high enough on persuasion to let Golden Butter Cookie let you stay." You stated, staring dumbfoundedly at the natural twenty that Shadow Milk had rolled. And that plus his modifier... actually cleared the clear condition you set. " Yep! Nat 20 baby." Shadow Milk hummed with a smug tone and a snap of his fingers. You searched for a shred of solace from the others at your table. Only to be met with indifference. " I mean, if Shadow Milk leaves the party, it won't make that much of a difference as to what's going on." Mystic Flour supplied, to which everyone agreed with. " If he so wishes, then let the guy stay with his muse... Or as he said so in-game himself." " Okay- Okay, fine. You can stay in the toy-box, but you'll have to make a new character for the campaign." You sigh exasperatedly. " Because in case you have forgotten, the cult is still a big problem on Earthbread. And you guys sorta have to take care of that." " Oh," Shadow Milk paused. " Well, shit. Can I try to convince Golden Butter Cookie to come help us instead?" You stared at him. " You just wanted Golden Butter Cookie to stay in the campaign longer, didn't you." You bluntly question him, to which, after a moments hesitation, he confirms with a nod. You sigh, " You do realize that I based Golden Butter off one of my friends, right?" You tell him, almost taking a bit of delight in the way Shadow Milk's jaw drops. " Wait- wait hold on... SHE'S REAL???" He exclaimed in such a flabbergasted manner that it caused you to burst out laughing. " Yes??? You didn't know?" You said between your giggles, taking joy in the new color coating your friends face. " And yes, I have been telling her how's you've been totally enamored with the DnD version of her." You took an almost sadistic joy in seeing Shadow Milk's embarrassed state. You supposed that you'd wait to tell him that she found his little antics endearing.

[ellie-shy]

(Please click the image to read the text and my handwriting!)

Meet my 1st Rook I'm planning to make in DATV!

Her name is Widuri (last name not decided), and this is her filling out the template 😂 (made by @riessene !!) with her thoughts and opinions. She doesn't care what people think of her, she is trying to stay alive, and get on with it. She is the life of the party and has a bad habit of smoking leisurely, and drinking when under stress (which is all the time). She is bringing the party into the Fade, I guess 😂

Widuri is charismatic and a social butterfly. She can be considered wise but dumb at the same time lol. She has proficiency in herbalism, so she can make plenty of weed , poisons and poultices :D

Close-up of my art of her is under the cut!

My current backstory for her is that she was born Dalish, but was abandoned by her clan before she even got her vallaslin. She considers herself as a City Elf, and had abandoned her Dalish beliefs. Though, she is not quite an Andrastian too. She was married, but later widowed with no offspring. Widuri and her late husband didn't get along well as they got older, so she was happier after the passing. Upon meeting Varric, she has been in LOF for almost 3 years.

I'm so happy that mages can use weapons other than the staff. Dagger/Orb just fits Widuri so well as she has been hiding her mage-y traits throughout her married life, so she rarely wields a staff.

She is currently my oldest OC in DA world lmao. But the fun part of making older OC's, is the fact you can put so much drama (trauma) into their backstory, and find out how they will adapt.

Widuri's proficiencies : Spellcasting, persuasion, deception, performance, herbalism, mixology, meelee combat

I will make an updated version after the game is out 😎

If anyone interested, my face claims for her are a mix of actresses Urmila Matondkar and Sofea Jane 😁

[deusexlachina]

Cheeseaged Exocolonist Age 14: Sol meets her one weakness - scripted death!

In which Sol pads her resume with cybernetic technology, has a brief, ill-fated sports career and learns the limits of her powers.

Age 14 is pretty uneventful if you've dealt with both the famine and plague already. My priority is levelling engineering.

Engineering gives me access to Gadgets in the supply depot. On Earth, "gadget" is a generic, someone dismissive term for a small device. On Vertumna, "gadget" means the tools of the gods.

The first gadget I buy is the Brain Trainer, which gives +15 to every skill. And it stacks with other skill-boosters, like Marz' jacket for Persuasion. This is one of the two most broken items in the game.

I do a tutoring job so I can help out poor Nougat. You only really meet Nougat if you're a tutor or babysitter. She's a minor character, but she really needs help, and so she's part of a perfect run. One of her problems is that her cyberpunk hand is infected. I'm not a doctor, but yes I am, because I have the Brain Trainer. So I get her hand fixed.

Continuing to use my civilization's most powerful tool to pad my resume, I tell my mom I'm qualified to be a farmer, making her proud of me for like one scene. This is a breath of fresh air, because since I'm going for high Rebellion, she's normally pretty mad at putting up with my antics. Saving both of my parents, Tammy, Tonin, Hal, the governor, and her crops is not enough to get Mom's Love*. It's just as well; I'd discard it as soon as I got it because Mom's Love is suboptimal for this deck.

Towards the end of the year, I realize I want to be on watch duty during Glow in order to protect the colony. This is a problem because I have not even qualified for watch duty, since unlocking that requires spending time in the Garrison, the most suboptimal location. For the second and last time in this entire run, I play what I can only imagine is a very tense game of Sportsball, ostensibly my childhood favourite game. I do unlock watch duty, so I sigh in relief as I get to abandon Sportsball for the rest of my life. Just in time, too, because Sportsball is about to get even less fun really quickly.

Year 14's Glow attack is a forked charge. A massive monster attacks the walls while smaller creatures try and slip past the defences to assassinate the governor. Since I'm on watch duty, though, nobody slips past anything. With the little guys gunned down, I can now also do a difficult combat check to help Anemone's brother Kom fight the massive creature. I succeed, because I have a well-optimized deck. Kom dies anyway, because his death is inevitable.

The devs designed Tammy as a character who Haunts the Narrative. Her death is meant to guarantee you'll regret something on your first run, where it is unavoidable, encouraging you to use the excellent wormhole mechanic. Kom's death is scripted presumably because it really affects Anemone's character arc and it would suck ass to write five years of dialogue for two versions of Anemone.

This marks the halfway point of the game. The second half of the game is considerably heavier, but has several of my favourite scenes. Most of which involve Tangent.

*The quip "just like real life" was extremely tempting, and you probably saw it yourself. I did not make this joke because it would falsely imply I have a bad relationship with my mother. Me and my mother are quite close. This is one of two areas where I am better-off than Sol, the other being that I am not trapped in a time loop and can experience(?) the sweet release of death.

[emilysidhe]

Half hour into the 1995 Persuasion now, and I can already see why everyone is saying that this is the superior adaptation - what’s odd though is that the 2007 version seems to have copied a number of minor alterations to the book’s plot from this earlier adaptation (the timing and staging of the young Musgrove boy’s fall and injury, for example*) rather than either keeping closer to the text or doing their own thing. Not sure how I feel about that, but as both versions are BBC productions I suppose they had the right to copy whatever they wanted.

*in the book, the boy falls from a tree in the afternoon of the day before Captain Wentworth is to dine with the Musgroves for the first time. Only Anne and Mary are home, and Mary is so upset that Anne must do all the work of sending for the apothecary, sending another servant to find Charles Musgrove and bring him home, keeping the toddler away from the injured child, comforting Mary as best she can, tending to the injured child and trying to keep him still and out of pain, and sending a message to the grandparents to let them know what’s happening. The whole family stays home with him the first night, anxious to find out if there will be any permanent spine injury, but by the following day it’s clear that only his collarbones is broken. Relieved, Charles wants to go to dinner that night but presumes Mary will want to stay with their child. Mary tries to get him to stay home with her until Anne suggests that Mary go too while she (Anne) looks after the boy, which makes Mary happy.

In both adaptations, the accident happens in the evening on the same day Wentworth is to dine. The scene starts with Anne dressing for dinner and taking extra care over her appearance as she knows Wentworth will be there, when a commotion draws Anne to the window. She sees her nephew being carried towards the house while someone shouts for help (though in the 1995 version the child is being carried by his father while Mary, walking next to them, calls desperately for Anne, while in the 2007 version the boy is in his grandfather’s arms and old Mr. Musgrove is shouting for Charles. The composition and camera angles in this shot are very similar in both versions.) We then cut to Anne tending the child while Charles and Mary argue about whether to go to dinner anyway and Anne solves it by offering to stay. Which shortens the timeline, but also presents both parents as being completely willing to abandon their child the very night of (indeed, within an hour of) the accident when they don’t yet know whether he will be paralyzed or not, instead of the next day when they’ve determined that he will recover without permanent consequences.

ETA: Also means that the accident happens after sunset, implying that the boy was climbing trees *in the dark* instead of during the day as in the book

[bathic]

6. I'm still failing to see the appeal...

Key felt more and more like the jolly fool of a jester the more he tried to convince the bullheaded woman across from him. It has been six days since he visited the pack orphanage, one mark off from a grand totality of seven days that he requested an interview with a wayward pack of eight (under his on-the-spot recommendation when asking the front desk attendant about the most far-from ideal pack in their institution) that truly left him buzzing from the amount of life-changing potential he could mold by his own hand.

Call him a schemer all you want, but he had his eyes on his own version of a rags to riches tale.

If only the alpha so keen on ignoring every persuasive ploy he’d been dishing out wasn’t swiped by a flippant hand into the bin by the desk she sat at— truly, everything would have been kickstarted ages ago.

“Are you even listening to me?” Key was nearly tempted to pick at his cuticles until they were nothing but shreds of thin skin hanging on for dear life.

Silence.

“Seriously, Chae?! I have gone so far on the limb to find you a pack, one that lacked a proper foundation for a stronghold, so they could be molded into a group of perfectly pliant successors in order to carry your name and what do you do— fucking stuff cotton into your ears!”

The beta watched with a pinched brow for any kind of reaction, a twitch of the finger, clench of the jaw, even a small wavering of the eye but instead all he got was absolutely nothing. Which shouldn’t surprise him in the slightest, not with the amount of years the both of them have accumulated together by him being her most trusted friend and right-hand in the clandestine business surrounding her household. But even with the history, it still didn’t make it any less of a headache when trying to hammer a nail into her thick head.

Chae, an individual with a less than favorable personality. Key had told her once that she was the thorny stem that held a rose— except there was never a rose to begin with and she was just that prickly green twig that usually ended up on the ire-end of someone’s foul mouth. Her response was lackluster, choosing to ignore him in favor of finishing off her cigarette.

A brief moment of tension fueled silence, and the unwavering burn of Key’s gaze dragged a burdensome sigh from the woman. Chae deposited her pen onto the short stack of papers she had been dedicating her time to, shifting her attention fully onto the man glowering across from her.

“I’ve been listening. Hard not to when in the presence of someone who likes the sound of their own voice as much as you do.”

“Very funny. Really, you could win an award with that one.”

Chae folds her hands together atop of the abandoned documents, contracts for this, plans for that. “Why are you so… sold on this pack that you’ve sniffed out? And might I add— I never told you to go hunting for them in the first place.”

A flippant hand, “You know I worry about the state of everything if you end up dead. So, in my opinion, I believe this— they, are in your best interest. If something was to happen— and don’t give me that look, Chae— you know it could at any moment… things won’t be left to rot.”

The unspoken— your name, your residence, your fortune… me.

Key wouldn’t ever admit it out loud in this lifetime or the million after it, but he really didn’t know what he’d do with himself if he was not the right-hand beta of an emotionally constipated alpha. Realistically, he could do just about anything, pursue any career that he often caught himself fantasizing about in his down time but at the end of it all still lingered this empty pit in his chest. A sense of uselessness.

“What makes them so special? After listening to your sales pitch every day for nearly a week, they sound like more trouble than they are worth. A bunch of leftovers housed in a shelter for the unwanted. Why would a pack like that be in my best interest?” Chae watched him beneath heavy brows, hardly blinking and zeroed in on every shift and mindless plucking he did at his violet suit coat.

“Because—“ The word was dragged out under the tug of his attitude, “— they would be clueless. Complete strangers to our world, to our way of life and… your line of work.” Key could see the alpha’s attention slipping, clearly losing interest in the topic when still in the beginnings. That won’t do for him, he fought too hard to get her to finally listen and he would be damned three times over if he was just going to let her pick that stupid pen up and begin scratching at those papers again.

Like a striking snake, the beta snatched the object from her reach and swiftly shoved it into his breast pocket.

“Sit on your goddamn hands for once!”

If Chae wasn’t the woman, he shared so many years within this lifetime with then he was sure she would have grabbed him by both the collar of his coat and the hem of his trousers and like the old cartoons, tossed him from her office and into the parallel wall. Or if she was every bit of the stereotype surrounding alpha’s then he would be bent over and forced to submit with a less than favorable bite and knotting.

“I’m still failing to see the appeal.” Chae huffs, “Oblivious and failures, you’ve only managed to tell me the negatives and those aren’t flaws I find endearing.”

Key is up on his feet and quick to lean against the front of her desk, one hand play on the surface and the other pointing right between her eyes. “What you are failing to see is what I’ve been trying to tell you for the last six days! If they don’t know, and you keep it that way, “ A pointed look, “then the eight of them will be the perfect mates to come home to. Like I said, they can be taught, stuffed into a mold of your liking and popped out to be a perfect bunch of househusbands that’ll rival a suburban bobble-headed housewife. And let’s face it, you need people you can trust. A family—“ The beta could see the beginnings of a defensive retort plucking at her lips but was quick to continue lest she shut everything down and send him on his way. “— that isn’t just me and… Look, I do love you and we did try to make us a working thing but that was years ago and I’m just trying to look out for you. In the long run.”

Between his chosen words were the obvious— he was worried and daresay terrified. The business she was embroiled in, still is embroiled in only promises one thing at the end of it all and he hated to even think about it.

Even more with how it would affect—

“You always are. A bit too much, it’s gotten quite annoying to be honest.”

“Well, if you were more of a Tiffany’s girl and not a modern version of Bonnie then I’d gladly fuck right off onto a first-class flight to Bali.”

Chae rolled her eyes, ducking to the side slightly to pull open a small compartment on her desk, scooping up her pack of cigarettes and bright blue lighter. Key had bought her a pack of assorted Bic’s and the color for the next week or so was the sky on a cloudless day.

“How confident are you in your decision?” A light patting to the bottom of the box and a single stick eases on out, “For a group of people you’ve only met once for what— an hour, half at the most? What about them is so completely screwed up that you feel like they are worth saving? To give an arguably better life to than the pack sanctuary they are already at, which ensures far more safety than living under my roof will ever give them. They’re already a mated pack, with a rooted dynamic that has been ingrained within them for as long as they’ve been together. Where do I fit into any of that? Where could I? By forcing myself into their lives, by keeping them captives in my house after practically buying them? Come on, Key… I truly want to understand where any of that falls into your previously voiced concerns.”

The beta felt picked apart at his very seams. Each thread she’d pluck and pull making his arguments sound less solid and more like he was just a mere child trying to convince their parent that the dark shadow of clothing in their closet was really a terrible creature waiting to make a meal of them some time in the night.

So, in the heat of scrambling to have the upper hand once again— he chose the lowest blow he could conjure.

“What of Misul then?”

The sound of the lighter was near deafening, practically eating up the sudden suffocating silence.

Chae’s hooded eyes narrowed, cigarette hanging precariously between her teeth. “What of him?”

“He needs stability— reliability. Proper role models, people to love and care for him from the second the sun rises to the minute it sets. Does he not deserve that? I mean the kid is practically a ghost, Chae— a shell of what should be an eight-year-old child!”

Hands slamming down on the desk, the alpha was up on her feet within seconds, ignoring the buildup of ash falling from her movements. Some landing on the papers sitting forgotten.

“Then step up! I do what I can for him but in order to keep the skin on our backs that requires me to sacrifice the opportunities to be present at all times for him.” Her head tilts, yanking the cigarette away from her mouth and blowing the smoke directly in the beta’s face. “But what about you? It didn’t take one person to make him. Rather than you harping on me about what he needs and what is lacking in his life, how about you own up to your part and fucking fulfill it instead of trying to force the responsibility onto a bunch of unassuming strangers!”

Silence.

Key ignored the smoke, even with his eyes burning from the foreign fumes. Better that than a cigarette to the skin of his hand.

He speaks after a moment, strained yet steady and for all it was worth, the tightness of regret was evident.

“You know I can’t do that. Not now, not ever.”

In a different world, he would without hesitation. But this wasn’t one, and he could not find it in himself to divulge such secrets to the kid.

Chae slumps back into her chair, hand moving the burning cigarette off to the side so the documents were spared anymore ash fall. Her other hand flicked outward, palm up and waiting.

“My pen, it’s the only good one I got.”

Key hesitated for a moment but caved in with a reluctant click of his tongue, pulling the pen from his breast pocket and dropping it into the woman’s hand. He watched her fingers curl around the slim body, giving it a twirl until it rested comfortably in her preferred writing position.

“Is that it? You’re just going to go back to signing papers and making illegal decisions that cost you more and more of your humanity instead of—“

“Do what you will, you’ve got forty-eight hours.”

Key hardly found himself caught off guard, but at that moment he was truly convinced that the rug pulled from under him had been planted for many years in wait.

“You… You don’t mean— Chae, you better not be fucking with me.”

She barely spared him a glance, taking a hit from her cigarette before pointing it at him. “Forty-eight hours. And don’t make me regret it.”

[samasmith23]

Quentin Quire: The Evolution from Morrison to Aaron

Over the past few years I’ve noticed that there’s a fairly sizable group of comic book fans who have taken issue with how the character Quentin Quire has been portrayed since his debut in New X-Men by Grant Morrison. Despite there being a lot of fans like myself who personally enjoyed Quire’s redemptive rehabilitation arc during Jason Aaron’s Wolverine & the X-Men arc into a quirky faux-rebel punk, there are quite a few readers who argue that redeeming Quire is inappropriate since Morrison originally framed them as being akin to a fascistic school-shooter during the Riot at Xaviers arc. I’ve discussed at length before about how I personally didn’t have an issue with future writers like Aaron redeeming Quire, especially since I personally really enjoyed how said-arc was handled in WATXM despite the more comedic shift in tone in regards to Quentin’s personality. However, one thing I recently realized was that despite fan-complaints that Aaron completely misunderstood Quire’s character or completely altered his personality, there are actually some subtle ways in which Aaron’s version of Quire is not only reflective of Morrison’s original characterization of him, but gradually abandons those initial negative traits in order to fulfill a positive-growth character arc.

So I was recently reading through a series of articles by ComicWatch editor Travis Hedge Coke titled “Examining New X-Men,” and in them Coke described Quire in those original Morrison stories as being portrayed as a misogynistic incel, stating that “Quire’s heterosexual jealousy throws him immediately into confrontation with men or boys he deems as challenges for the top position in the eyes of girls and women, he perceives girls and women as prizes as a reward for obtaining the top position… [and he] has incredible telepathic gifts including being subtly and intensely persuasive.”

And I will freely admit that... yeah... this kind misogynistic alpha-male behavior is on full display via Quire not only humiliating his fellow student Slick by essentially outing him telepathically through undoing an illusion of his idealized self due to low self-esteem about his actual appearance (consequently resulting in his girlfriend Tattoo rejecting him), but one of the reasons he staged the entire riot at Xavier’s was in a creepy attempt to impress one of the five Stepford Cuckoos.

Additionally, the article also suggested that Quire was also guilty of outright sexual assault since Slick’s aforementioned ex-girlfriend Tattoo immediately joins Quire’s “Omega Gang” and is madly in love with him, and following the riot one of Quire’s gang members desperately tries to convince Wolverine that they were all being mind-controlled by Quire. While Morrison leaves the story vague about whether or not this was actually true or just another lie from one of Quire’s followers to avoid accountability for their crimes, Xavier did state earlier in the arc that Quire’s telepathic abilities were “deep and subtle enough to influence the minds around him” when discussing his development of a cult-following in the form of the Omega Gang. Coke even went as far as to describe Morrison’s Quire as being akin to a younger, less rapey version of Wolverine’s arch-nemesis Sabretooth. It's also worth noting that there also exists subtle racialized undertones (ontop of gendered ones...) in the original Riot at Xavier's arc considering the white and fascistic Quire's overt manipulations of two Black characters in the form of Slick & Tattoo...

Furthermore, in a separate article for GraphicPolicy by Dani Kinney, despite her more charitable interpretation of Morrison’s Quire as someone who was driven to extremes due to frustration with Xavier’s flawed liberal-centrist approach in response to increasing human violence against other mutants, Kinney still criticizes Quire of being racially biased due to his victimization and exploitation of Slick and Tattoo respectively (both of which Morrison frames as bad things in the comic).

Interestingly, later when Quentin Quire began to undergo a rehabilitation arc in Jason Aaron's run on Wolverine & the X-Men (since Logan recognized Quire’s potential as a gifted student and telepath and didn’t want him to fall down the dark path of a mutant terrorist)...

...whether or Jason Aaron intended to or not he ended up showcasing Quire growing beyond the subtle characteristics of racism and misogyny that Morrison originally depicted during the character’s overtly villainous phase. For instance, throughout WATXM Quire begins to form a legitimate friendship and even romantic relationship with his fellow student Idie Okonkwo. Despite this, their first interaction showcases Quentin falling back on his old negative habits, making awkward pick-up lines and advances at Idie (which she hilariously sarcastically rejects in a nonchalant manner, and even Broo points out the inappropriateness of).

As the series progresses however, Quire begins to recognize Idie not as some prize but as a human being with her own autonomy. This is gradual shift first manifests during a school dance in the AVX tie-ins, where Quire is completely dumbfounded to see Idie uncharacteristically wanting to dance with him, even noting that she previously rejected his advances. This sudden shift in behavior for Idie was due to her worsening struggles with internalized-mutantphobia and religious trauma due to having been forced to kill someone by Cyclops in X-Men: Schism, feelings which were recently exacerbated by the Hellfire Brat’s gaslighting of her to give into what she mistakens to be her true “sinful, monstrous nature” via an android televangelist-style priest.

Quire's concerns Idie’s well-being and mental health only increase following an incident during the Frankenstein Murder Circus arc Idie nearly killing a sorceress a fit of traumatic rage due to she herself once nearly being burned at the stake by her Nigerian Catholic village when she first manifested her mutant powers.

This eventually culminates climatic Hellfire Academy arc wherein Quentin Quire actually infiltrates the Hellfire Brat’s supervillain-training school when he discovered Idie enrolled (both due to her worsening religious trauma and gaslighting, as well as wanting to investigate who shot her friend Broo and reduced him to a feral state), and seeks to rescue her from a that toxic environment. Unfortunately, Quire's rescue attempt backfires and he himself ends up getting captured and thrown into the Hellfire Academy's "detention room."

While Quire at this point hadn’t fully overcome his previous negative characteristics (he’s partially motivated by basic jealousy towards Broo and at one point thinks to himself that he might be forced to “telepathically coax” Idie into fleeing the Hellfire Academy), he simultaneously wants to prevent her from killing Broo’s shooter, as he wants to prevent her from going down a similar dark path that he previously did.

Furthermore, I don’t know if this was intentional or not but Aaron actually kinda sort of portrays Kade Kilgore, the Black King of the Hellfire Brats, as somewhat of a dark foil to Quentin Quire. Kilgore as he’s presented in WATXM is essentially like a younger but wealthier version of the kind of jerk Quire used to be during the Morrison New X-Men run. This is demonstrated not only through Kade expressing disappointment at Quire’s failure to live up to the standards of the supervillain academy due to Quentin’s past track record, but Kade is someone who actively manipulates and gaslights Idie by further feeding into her internalized mutantphobia and guilt over having killed before, all with the intent of influencing her into becoming both a murderous supervillain as well as his Black Queen of the Hellfire Club whom he would “have by his side at all times.”

And these are inappropriate behaviors which Kilgore undoubtedly picked up from his abusive corrupt billionaire father despite his own protestations to the contrary (in X-Men: Schism, Kade’s murder of his father was assisted by a secretary who wanted revenge for Kilgore Sr. sexually harassing her). Plus the Hellfire Club in general has a long history of being manipulative and possessive towards women, like with Jean Grey during the classic Dark Phoenix Saga.

So despite Kade claiming otherwise, the Hellfire Club’s misogynistic and manipulative behavior definitely seems to be generational.

In a sense, Kade Kilgore’s creepy & misogynistic manipulation of Idie is somewhat reflective of how Quire previously mistreated characters like Tattoo & Sophie Cuckoo during Morrison’s run. It also demonstrates that while Aaron mostly portrayed the Hellfire Brats as comedic joke-villains due to them being sociopathic spoiled rich 12-year-olds who murdered their parents and seized control over their corporate assets, he still fleshed out members like Kade Kilgore as being negatively influenced by the sexist & manipulative behaviors of his abusive father.

Fortunately however, Idie rejects both Kilgore’s gross manipulations and her own internalized-mutantphobia. While Idie initally seems to accept Kilgore’s offer of becoming his Black Queen, she did this solely just to trick Kilgore into confessing that he was the one who shot her friend Broo. And although Idie nearly went through with her plan to murder the little creep in retaliation, she he ultimately refuses to give into hatred and bloodshed (brought about by both her past religious trauma and the inhumane teachings of the literal supervillain academy) when she realizes that she is still capable of feeling love and and experiencing happiness after witnessing Toad of all people (he was the janitor at both the Jean Grey School & Hellfire Academy) refusing to kill a mentally unstable & murderous Husk (Paige was experiencing extreme mood swings due to a latent secondary mutation tying her emotions to her skin-shedding/transformation powers) because of the love they had developed for each other in previous issues of the series. Sparring Kilgore’s life, Idie then teams-up with Quire to rebel against and destroy the oppressive Hellfire Academy (a conclusion to WATXM’s running gag of Quire constantly fantasizing about instigating another riot and destroying the Jean Grey School).

And while some fans have argued that Quire & Idie becoming a couple creeped them out due to Idie being younger than him, I don’t have too much of a problem with it since was only a 2-year age gap between the two in Aaron’s run (Idie & Quire were 14 & 16 respectively; this was confirmed by the Jason Latour’s follow-up run on WATXM, which featured Quire having his 17th birthday), and seeing Quentin & Idie develop legitimate feelings for each other as they both underwent positive-change arcs actually felt kind of sweet IMO. Plus, Idie was the one who ultimately had to rescue Quire instead of the other way around due to his own rescue attempt FAILING, and the two co-lead the revolt against the Hellfire Brats.

Essentially, Aaron’s version of Quentin Quire felt like a more mature version of Morrison’s despite his new more comedic faux-rebel personality. Quentin by the end of WATXM was no longer a manipulative incel, but had instead evolved into someone who actually learned to respect the autonomy and personhood of not just women, but women of color in particular. This was something that completely flew over my head when I initially read WATXM, but after reading Travis Hedge Coke’s New X-Men articles I began to notice how vastly different Quire’s attitude and treatment towards Tattoo & Idie were, especially since both characters are Black girls. These are some deeper observations about Quentin Quire’s character development & positive change arc that I truly appreciate, since they make me realize that Aaron seemed to understand Quentin’s character a lot more than a lot of fans give him credit for. Sadly though, all this does seem to be lost on a lot of fans due to not just having prior memories Morrison’s more villainous portrayal of Quire, but also due to series which came after Aaron’s WATXM such as Christina Strain’s run on Generation X apparently having Quentin Quire regress into being rude and condescending towards Idie… sigh, oh well that’s the downside of having different writers with different interpretations I guess…

Overall, I'm not against redeeming Quentin Quire like a lot of other fans are since Wolverine in Jason Aaron's run was following in the footsteps of Charles Xavier's philosophy. Logan wanted to give Quire a second-chance and try and mold him into something better than a potential future mutant-terrorist, which he ultimately ended up succeeding in. And while Quentin still boasts about wanting to be the bad kid who destroys the Jean Grey School, most of it is now him being a faux-pretentious brat as he never exploited any opportunity to do so and instead developed empathy with his fellow students, and over the course of WATXM Quire developed leadership skills and even went out of his way to rescue the X-Men at several points in Aaron's series. His faux-rebel attitude is played more for laughs now.

Plus, the X-Men in general have a long history of trying to redeeming or rehabilitating supervillains like Magneto, Mystique, Juggernaut, and even Apocalypse and Mister Sinister.

So why is Quentin Quire off limits for a redemption arc then? Heck, I'd personally argue that Mister Sinister being allowed a seat on Krakoa's Quite Council is far more egregious considering that in past continuity Sinister was literally a Nazi scientist who was present at the Auschwitz death camp.

That seems far worse to me than Wolverine trying to redeem a delinquent teenager who once staged a half-assed riot at Xaviers...

[minkyumami]

I’m really sad bc I just wrote a whole thing about my take on the Chuck won theory and it didn’t save 🫥

Just…. okay…

imagine a very eloquent and persuasive argument saying that we could never have gotten a good ending on screen, because for TFW to defeat Chuck they’d need to be allowed to escape the narrative entirely.

What I mean is: Supernatural is his show, he was always the one writing it, as well as the one watching it — and it has always been used as the Winchester’s prison. Every single episode is a construct that they’ve been trapped inside.

So the true ending for them is one that doesn’t satisfy Chuck’s need for a conclusion. His defeat would have to mean that the audience loses access to his story. We wouldn’t get to see what happens next, at least not in this show — because our protagonists winning would allow them to abandon the story and all its pre-established rules. They would finally be allowed to exist outside of the confines of the TV show Supernatural.

But the finale we’re shown is one Chuck would’ve wanted, simply because it’s there for us to see. It gives his show a conclusion — one that’s completely in line with everything he’s set up! It does nothing to really challenge the themes that he’s been obsessed with from the jump, which have been causing TFW the most pain:

tragedy, loss, isolation, and sacrifice.

So does this mean that Chuck actually wins? I think the answer is yes and no. I think there is no version of a canon SPN finale that isn’t one of Chuck’s endings — again, because it’s always been his show.

But are the Sam and Dean we see in the finale the “real” Sam and Dean? Personally, I like to think that the real ones got out and made their own story.

The true ending is one where they don’t have to be Chuck’s protagonists anymore — one where they get to live real, unedited, uncensored, long gay lives. Maybe that happens through another medium, or a reboot or a spin-off — anything but the show itself.

[cyberkevvideo]

Pathfinder Gillman Race Conversion to 5e

Today is another entry for Kraken Week. Before, I did the boggard and turned it into a proper Pathfinder 1e playable race. This time I decided to do something 5e related and convert a playable race from Pathfinder with sea lore into 5e race to go along with the triton, grung, and other aquatic races.

For those who didn't see my previous entry, this week (July 1st to July 7th) is Kraken Week. It’s what will hopefully be an annual TTRPG event that was created and hosted by Point Hat and Ginny Di, and YouTubers come together and do videos on the kraken and other sea and water-based creatures. It’s going to be their version of Shark Week, but not just about sharks. It’s been encouraged for others to join in as well. Unfortunately, I’m not a YouTuber, so I’m going to be doing this via this Tumblr blog.

The artist is for the logo is Antonio Demico, aka Pointy Hat himself.

The gillman race I'm using as a base can be found in Pathfinder 1e's Inner Sea World Guide, among other books.

Image is courtesy of the Archives of Nethys.

They are the creation of aboleths kidnapping and fleshwarping humans, and have a second name, Azarketi, because of their Azlant origin. Aboleths manipulated them for centuries, making them susceptible to aboleth influence, and eventually abandoning them, allowing the gillmen to finally experience freedom, but still unable to fully break away from the torturous manipulations of their creators.

Much like the grung, gillmen still require to be immersed in water for a short period of time or suffer from the ramifications. Unlike a satyr or yuan-ti who have a full resistance to magic and other effects (or just magic resistance in the case of the Monsters of the Multiverse updates), a gillman is only able to resist enchantment and illusion spells, unless those spells are cast by an aboleth. Overall, the conversion might seem strong, but some of the abilities are niche or limited in overall scope. That said, if the race never comes up against an aboleth, there's no concerns, but the same could be said about a satyr that never goes up against a mage, or at least very rarely does. And even then, spell attacks ignore that.

Overall, it's about as strong as an aasimar. At least in accordance to racial ability point breakdowns found online.

Also, if you're using the ability score and language rules from Tasha's Cauldron, feel free to ignore the listed scores and languages presented here. They are merely a suggestion based on the original gillman race.

Gillman/Azarketi

As a gillman, you gain the following traits.

Ability Score Increase. Your Constitution score increases by 2 and your Charisma score increases by 1.

Age. Gillmen age at much the same rate as humans, reaching adulthood at the age of 20. They live much longer than humans, however, often exceeding 160 years.

Alignment. Gillmen tend to lean more towards true neutrality.

Creature Type. You are a Humanoid.

Size. Your size is Medium.

Speed. Your base walking speed is 30 feet, and you have a swimming speed equal to your walking speed.

Darkvision. You can see in dim light within 60 feet of you as if it were bright light, and in darkness as if it were dim light. You can't discern color in darkness, only shades of gray.

Amphibious. You can breathe air and water.

Cold Resistance. Adapted to the frigid ocean depths, you have resistance to cold damage.

Limited Magic Resistance. You have advantage on saving throws against spells from the enchantment and illusion schools.

Poison Adept. You have advantage on saving throws you make to avoid or end the poisoned condition on yourself.

Taskmaster. You have proficiency in your choice of Animal Handling, Persuasion, or Perception.

Aboleth Vulnerability. You have disadvantage on saving throws against enchantment and illusion spells and abilities used by aboleths.

Water Dependency. If you fail to immerse yourself in water for at least 1 hour during a day, you suffer 1 level of exhaustion at the end of that day. You can recover from this exhaustion only through magic or by immersing yourself in water for at least 1 hour.

Languages. You can speak, read, and write Common and Aboleth.

With that, this concludes my contributions to this year's Kraken Week. Hopefully this happens again next year, and I can participate yet again.

As always, if you like what I do, whether it’s monster conversions, adventure path add-ons, or race builds, I have a Ko-Fi page (linked) for those who would like to support me monetarily, especially now that I’m racking up medical bills. There is no pressure or obligation to do so. A like and/or a share would also be appreciated just as much. It lets people know I exist out there.

I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy.

[spnhunter4life]

So Long Version 2 Chapter 2

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Canon typical violence

A/N: If version 2 is the first time you're reading this, I hope you enjoy! If you've read version 1 and are reading this also, thanks for the support! Let me know which version you prefer.

Series Masterlist

Ages 12 and 16 July 23, 1995

Dean’s POV

The beds at this motel were probably some of the best quality I’d ever seen. The mattresses weren’t lumpy or too hard and they didn’t smell musty or like cigarette smoke. There weren’t any questionable stains on the blankets either. It was actually a comfortable bed, and I didn’t take that for granted. I would undoubtedly be sleeping on a bed that was much less comfortable and much more sketchy in the next day or two. 

We were in Washington right now, but we’d just finished the job last night. It had been my second official hunt, and I was still thrilled that I was finally allowed to be involved, to actually get to chase down and kill the monster instead of being stuck at home doing research. 

It was only a simple salt and burn case, but I’d still had a lot of fun. Things had gotten exciting when the ghost showed up as we were searching the abandoned house she used to live in for the object she was tied to – it turned out to be the knife she had been killed with, still covered in her blood – but other than getting a little bruised up from being thrown across the room, nobody had gotten hurt. 

It had been a long night though, and so, exhausted, I hadn’t been able to do more than strip down to my t-shirt and boxers before collapsing on top of the bed and falling asleep almost immediately. 

I had slept deeply. I was slowly making my way towards consciousness, clinging to the dream I was already forgetting. It was about me and Jenna. We were… out with friends? On a date? The details were hazy and fading quick. I think we were at the movies maybe. I was startled into alertness by Sam’s gasp.

I grabbed the knife from under my pillow, rolled onto my back, and sat up, scanning the room for a threat. There was nothing though. Dad was gone, probably either talking with Ben or gone out to grab breakfast and coffee. There was just Sam standing at the foot of my bed, eyes wide, mouth slightly open, staring intently at my ankle. Staring at the name that was tattooed there.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” He cried out in the voice of a little brother outraged at being left in the dark.

“Shit,” I muttered as I got out of bed and started getting dressed to hide the evidence. But the damage had already been done.

“Dean!” Sam protested.

“Let it go Sammy,” I ordered, rifling through my duffel bag for some clean clothes, deciding a shower was in order. 

“Let it go?” Sam echoed, trailing me towards the bathroom. “Dean, this is huge! I thought we didn’t have secrets. You guys should have told me!” he insisted.

I set my clothes on the counter and was ready to threaten him to keep his mouth shut when something seemed to occur to him.

“Wait,” he said, backtracking a little. “Jenna does know, doesn’t she?”

“I’m only going to tell you this once Sam, so listen up. I don’t care if you’re my brother. If you ever tell anyone, especially her, I will end you,” I warned before slamming the door in his face.

Great, I thought. I’d been able to keep this thing a secret for less than a year. I wasn’t at all sure that I could trust Sam not to say something. Sure, he could keep a secret if he wanted to, but I didn’t know if I would be able to convince him that this needed to stay between us. Anxious thoughts swirled in my head throughout my shower, but by the time I got out I had a persuasive argument ready to go.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, Sam was on the couch, restlessly tapping his fingers against his knee. He looked up at the sound of the door opening and stood to face me.

“I won’t say anything,” Sam rushed out at the same time I said, “We need to talk.”

“What?” I asked, not having heard him over my own statement.

“I won’t say anything,” he promised. “But… why haven’t you told her?”

I sighed. I should have expected this. Should have, but didn’t. I’d planned out how to persuade him not to tell anyone, had considered potential arguments he might throw my way. I hadn’t anticipated him immediately complying or the simple question that followed. I ran a hand through my hair as I considered how to answer. 

“You know why,” I finally said, deciding that the argument I’d planned out would work as an explanation to his question. He just stared at me expectantly.

“I haven’t exactly made a secret of the fact that I don’t want to know my soulmate. That I don’t want her stuck living this life,” I told him.

“You love this life,” he pointed out.

“Yeah. I do. But it’s dangerous and it means never having a home. I won’t force her into that,” I explained.

“But she’s already a part of it. You won’t be forcing her into anything,” he responded.

“Just because she’s in this life now doesn’t mean she has to be in it forever. She’ll be able to make her own decisions in a few years. She can find somewhere she likes and stay there. She can get out of hunting.”

“Who says she wants to?” Sam asked. 

“Well then that’s her choice if she doesn’t want to quit. I’m not going to be the reason though. I don’t want her hunting with me out of a feeling of obligation. I won’t do that to her.” I told him.

“You keep talking about her being able to do what she wants. What if what she wants is to be with you? Did you consider that?” he argued.

I had considered it. I decided that until I had a reason to think that she was interested in something more, I would leave things the way they were. I was happy just to have her in my life, in any way. I wasn’t going to push for more when what I had was already more than I could have ever hoped for. My soulmate was with me every day. And I didn’t have to worry about scaring her away. She already knew the whole truth about me and my life.

Frustrated that he kept pushing, I snapped, ��I thought you weren’t going to say anything.”

“I’m not,” he insisted.

“Then why won’t you let it go?” I demanded. He scowled at me.

“If I’m going to be keeping this a secret for you, you can at least tell me why it has to be a secret. I told you I won’t say anything and I won’t, but I still don’t see why you don’t just tell her.”

“I don’t know how to explain it in a way you’ll understand,” I told him. “Can you just believe that I’m doing what’s best?” 

He thought about it for a while.

“Fine,” he agreed.

“Fine?” I asked, relieved, but surprised he wasn’t putting up more of a fight.

“Yeah. Fine. Because you have less than a year before Jenna turns 16. You know she’s going to find out then,” he said confidently. 

I hadn’t been letting myself think that far ahead. I wasn’t sure what to expect when her birthday came around again. Would she find my name somewhere on her body? Would she be happy or disappointed? Would she want to be with me or would she rather stay away and have a normal life? Would it even be my name she found?

“Maybe,” I said, humoring him for the moment. “But until then, this stays between us. Actually, this stays between us until I say otherwise,” I told him.

"Fine," he agreed. He wasn't happy about it, but he felt secure in the knowledge that he had less than a year before it would no longer be a secret. I both hoped he was wrong and hoped he was right. "Jerk," he added a little frustratedly. 

I just smirked at him. 

"Bitch."

Ages 15 and 16 September 13, 1995

I was sitting at the table in the Winchester’s motel room with John and my dad, discussing the case they were working on. Sam was in our motel room studying for a big test and Dean was just getting back from his afternoon out with the sister of the latest victim, trying to get more information. 

“Hopefully Dean learned something useful so we can go in more prepared,” John was saying as we all heard the familiar rumble of the Impala’s engine. He had come up with a plan to catch the monster, but though we had theories, we still weren’t 100% sure what it was. 

When the two of them had caught wind of this case, finding a newspaper article about a 14 year old girl who had gone missing – the third missing girl in this Colorado town this month – they’d immediately packed us up. The latest girl’s body hadn’t been found at the time, but the previous two were found a few days after their disappearances, covered in deep cuts, bodies drained of blood and dumped in rarely used alleyways. The girl from the newspaper article was found a day after we got to town.

My dad and John were able to find out almost immediately that the girl had an older sister and instructed Dean to start trying to get close to her. They figured the teenage girl might spill a little more information – especially when a mysterious new boy with a handsome face and charming smile was asking the questions – than her parents would. 

“Well?” John asked as soon as Dean had the door closed behind him.

“Sorry, I’ve got nothing,” Dean admitted disappointedly. “She didn’t say anything different than what everyone else has been saying. And she was more than happy to answer my questions so I don’t think she was hiding anything. Maybe I just didn’t ask the right questions.”

“Alright. Don’t be too hard on yourself. We knew she might not know anything. I’m sure you did just fine,” my dad reassured Dean.

“Maybe. I’ll try to figure out if there’s anything else I can ask her that might give us something useful,” Dean said.

“No need. Jenna, why don’t you go get ready to head to the library,” John said. I stood up to follow his instructions and he turned to the array of weapons on the table.

“The library?” Dean asked. “You guys are doing research? We don’t even have enough information to go off of to know where to start.”

“Don’t we?” John countered, already irritated. I froze where I was. He never handled it well when Dean questioned him, no matter how innocently. He always expected instant compliance, a “Yes, sir!” kind of attitude. 

“Ok, well I’ll come with then,” Dean replied.

“No you won’t. You’ll stay here with your brother,” John told him.

“Why? What’s the point in me sitting in a motel room when I could be with you guys doing something useful?” He argued. “The more people we have looking, the more information we can get through.”

“We don’t need more people. Jenna’s going alone.” John told him, the “end of discussion” clear in his voice.

“What?” Dean spit out through clenched teeth. I looked at him and saw him looking disbelievingly between the two men. 

“You heard me,” John said, daring his son to question his decision. “We made a plan while you were out.”

“While I was out?” Dean said incredulously. “You mean while I was working the case? While I was doing what you told me to, you ‘made a plan’ to send Jenna out by herself?” 

I’d never seen him argue like this with his father. With jerks at school, sure. With me and Sam, occasionally. But with John? I’d never seen him truly question his father, and I was worried where this might be headed and how ugly it might get.

“Yes, we did,” John said. “And the plan isn’t going to change just because we don’t have all the information.”

“Did the three of you somehow forget that this… this thing is taking teenage girls? Did you forget that all three of the girls he took had dark brown hair, pretty much exactly the same color as Jenna’s? What about the fact that he’s taking these girls from the library? That he only goes after them when they’re alone? Tell me how this isn’t enough information to know that sending her in is a terrible plan!”

“We’re not discussing this any further Dean,” John said with finality, moving to usher me from the room. Dean stepped between us, back to me, breath heaving. 

“You can’t use her as bait!” he yelled. He ran his hands through his hair, a sure sign that he was beyond stressed. I set my hand on his shoulder, wanting to comfort him. He took one quick look at me, his eyes wild, before he turned to look at my dad. 

“Ben, how could you be ok with this?” He asked.

“I don’t like the idea either,” my dad said as he looked at me.

“So why-” Dean started.

“Because it’s the only plan I can see that catches this thing before another innocent girl is taken,” he said firmly.

“Jenna is an innocent girl,” Dean said.

“But not an ignorant one,” John countered. “She knows what she’s getting into. We have no leads on this thing other than it being in the library. It’s managed to avoid all security cameras so we don’t have any idea what it looks like. We don’t even know if it managed to sneak around so well because it works there or if it was just that careful about scouting out the place ahead of time.”

“Exactly! That’s why you can’t just let this thing take her, Dad! How bad do you think it’ll hurt her before we manage to find her? Who says we even find her on time? You can’t do it.”

John stiffened.

“Excuse me? I can’t do it? You’re giving me orders now?” he asked in a dangerously quiet voice. Dean squared his shoulders and lifted his chin.

“You heard me,” he said, repeating his dad’s earlier words. “You can’t. I won’t let you.”

Sensing that the situation was about to escalate to a point of no return, my dad stepped in.

“We’re not going to let it take her, Dean. Of course not. We’ll be there, waiting for it to try and grab her. And when it does, we’ll be ready.”

“You’ll be ready?” Dean said with an edge to his voice, never taking his eyes off of John. “You don’t know what the thing even is. How can you be ready?”

“We’re bringing everything. Whatever it ends up being, we’ll have what we need to kill it. I’m not going to risk my only daughter,” Dad said, trying to reason with him.

After a few tense seconds of silence, Dean finally turned to me.

“And you?” he asked. “You’ve been awfully quiet through this whole thing. Are you ok with this? They can’t make you if you don’t want to.”

“Dean,” I started, trying to decide the words to say that would calm him down, ease his nerves. “I’m ok with it,” I finally decided on. There was nothing more I could really say.

“You’re ok with it? You’re fine with being bait? Jenna, I know you. You try to hide it, but I can see how scared you are every time you come on a hunt. You’re telling me you’re not scared now?”

“No,” I said, and was surprised to realize I meant it.

“No?” He questioned disbelievingly.

“No,” I repeated. “Because I know you’ll be there,” I told him confidently, looking at John to see if he would contradict me and insist Dean stay behind. That’s what the plan had been originally, both John and my dad thinking he wouldn’t be able to handle it. When he just shook his head – not in denial but in irritated acquiescence – I continued. “Because I trust you. Because I’ve never had to worry about not being safe when you’re around. Because I know you would die before you would let anything happen to me.”

He looked at me for a few moments, processing the words I’d spoken with such conviction.

“You’re sure?” He asked one more time.

“I’m sure,” I told him. He nodded, resigned to the plan if not happy about it.

“Alright,” was all he said.

“Great,” John said sourly. “Now that that’s settled, we’ve got a job to finish. Get moving.”

~~~~~

An hour later I sat at a table in the most secluded corner of the library I could find. My biology textbook was laying open in front of me and the rest of the table was scattered with my notes and some old assignment sheets. We’d only been at this school for a few days, but I tried to carry all my notes from previous schools. It wasn’t uncommon to cover the same topic multiple times with all of the school-hopping we did.

Dean, John, and my dad were hiding behind one of the big bookcases behind me, waiting. I was actually doing homework, partly to keep myself calm and pass the time, partly because it’s what the monster would be expecting.

We were covering the digestive system currently and the teacher had assigned the class an essay taking her through the full digestive process from the perspective of the food that was being digested. It was definitely one of the weirdest assignments I’d ever been given. Unfortunately, I let myself concentrate a little too hard on my work, not paying attention to my surroundings the way I should have been.

“Excuse me,” a voice said to my right, causing me to jump a little in my seat. He was a man, probably in his 40s, wearing a little name tag identifying him as Trevor. “Sorry to startle you. I’m just letting you know the library will be closing soon, so if you could please finish up, that would be great.”

“Yes, of course,” I said, a little flustered. I couldn’t believe I’d been so careless. I started packing up my stuff, already mentally preparing myself for having to come back here tomorrow to try again, when I realized the man wasn’t leaving. Tense now, I looked at him. “Was there something else?” I asked.

“Actually, now that you mention it.” He pulled a syringe out of his pocket and grabbed me, moving the needle towards my arm. He was quick, but I was quicker, reflexively swatting the incoming hand away with the arm he wasn’t holding in place, knocking the syringe out of his grasp and onto the floor where it rolled away. 

“You little bitch,” he spat as he caught the fist I threw at his face. “Hard way it is then. You’re going to regret that. I enjoy a fight.”

I threw my knee straight up towards his crotch and he dropped one of my arms to block it. In blocking this attack, just as I’d anticipated, he’d dropped his head down to see. I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him closer as I rammed the top of my head as hard as I could into his nose. 

Momentarily stunned, he let me go and I ran in the other direction, wondering where the guys were. I meant it when I said I trusted Dean with my life. I obviously trusted my dad just as much and John too. But that didn’t mean something hadn’t happened to them. Trevor took only a second to recover before he lunged forward and grabbed me. He wrestled my hands behind my back and started to force me towards the back exit but he was stopped by my dad stepping out in front of him, gun pointed at his face. 

“Let her go,” he commanded.

“How cute,” Trevor said. “I suppose you guys figured you’d set an easy trap for me in what I can only guess is some misguided revenge attempt. I’m afraid you’ve underestimated your opponent though. Those bullets won’t kill me. So now you both die.”

“I suggest you listen to the man,” John said from behind and slightly to the left of us. He also had a gun trained on the man. And then I understood. They’d taken so long to intervene because they were getting into position, sneaking around behind the bookshelves to surround us. I knew where Dean would be, behind and slightly to the right, but I didn’t look. Didn’t let this monster know we had a fourth person on our side.

“I don’t think so. Like I said,” Trevor said, still unconcerned about his odds, “It’ll take more than a bullet to kill me.”

“You mean because you’re a shapeshifter?” John asked as if he were having a casual conversation. “That’s why all three of our guns are loaded with silver bullets.”

That’s when I heard the gun cocking directly beside me. John had been the distraction, the way to get Trevor to turn his back so that Dean could get close.

“You’ve got one more chance to let her go,” Dean warned, gun pressed up directly against the man’s head.

“And why would I do that? I let her go and you kill me.” He breathed out, afraid now that he understood the guns were a very real threat to his life.

“If you don’t let her go, if you hurt her in any way, you can be sure that you’ll be wishing for death by the time we’re done,” Dad said. Dean grunted his agreement.

I could feel the hands on my wrists minutely tightening and loosening as he made a decision. The next thing I knew I was being shoved into Dean and the monster – shapeshifter, apparently– bolted for the door.

Dean and I fell in a heap on the floor, him flat on his back, me on his chest. I heard a gunshot, only one, and knew it was over. I didn’t know which of our dads had been the one to fire the shot. 

I took a deep breath, letting Dean pull me into a seated position and hold me against his chest while murmuring into my hair, “Don’t you ever do that to me again. I don’t think I can handle it.”

I didn’t respond. He knew I would do it again if it was ever needed the same way he would always offer himself up for the sake of others. I just listened to the sound of his elevated heartbeat and let myself enjoy the feeling of being held by him.

“How did you know it was a shapeshifter?” I asked once Dean had let me go.

“The real guy is dead behind one of the bookshelves,” John answered. “We knew what he was the second he came over to talk to you. Now let’s get this cleaned up and get out of here.”

I mentally rolled my eyes at his order, but I knew he was right. The real Trevor’s body would be left for the police to find. We needed to take care of the shapeshifter though. 

We drove to an abandoned warehouse on the edge of town. It was mostly empty inside and everything was made of concrete or metal. It was the closest and safest place we could find to burn a body.

Once it was taken care of, we piled back into John’s truck and drove back to the motel.

Ages 15 and 17 March 18, 1996

“Jenna!” I heard Dean call from down the hall as he stalked towards me. He sounded annoyed. I knew how it looked, Tony casually leaning next to me, arm braced against the lockers. The halls were mostly empty as everyone went home for the day. I knew I had a big smile on my face too, knew the conclusion Dean had undoubtedly come to, but I wasn’t in the mood to deal with him playing overprotective big brother. Rolling my eyes, I turned to face him as he stopped within inches of me.

“What’s up, Dean?” I asked calmly. I didn’t fail to notice the way he angled his body slightly between the two of us.

“I was going to ask the same thing,” he answered. “I thought you were going to meet me and Sam outside.”

“I was. I am.” I corrected myself. “Tony was just telling me about all the horses his family owns and he said I could come over and ride if I want.” I told him, getting excited again. I looked at Tony who looked slightly nervous. He was a fairly attractive, semi popular guy. A sophomore, like me, he was still growing into his long legs and widening shoulders.

“You really think your dad is going to let you go to some guy’s house?” Dean scoffed.

“Why not?” I answered defensively. “You and Sam go to your friends’ houses all the time.” I noticed Tony wince a little and pushed Dean away, only able to do so because I took him by surprise. He still only backed away a single step.

“That’s because our dad doesn’t care what we do and you know it. Your dad is way more protective,” he countered. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before he lets you do something as stupid as go to the home of some random boy by yourself.”

“You mean before you let me go,” I retorted. “Well news flash Dean, you don’t get to decide what I can and can’t do. And what do you mean ‘stupid’? I want to go ride horses with a friend, not bungee jumping off a cliff above a shallow lake.”

“You’ve never ridden a horse before, Jenna! What if something goes wrong? You could fall off and hurt yourself!” 

I was surprised he wasn’t backing down. He never used to have these kinds of arguments in public. He’d always been protective, but for the past year he’d been even worse. While deep down I appreciated his concern, right now I was just irritated. 

“I have to drop my stuff off and let my dad know what’s going on, but I’ll try to be there by four if that works for you.” I told Tony, ignoring Dean for the moment.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Tony said warily. “Whenever works for you. And if you don’t come, I’ll just assume your dad said no.” He told me, eyeing Dean before making a hasty escape. I huffed and turned to punch Dean in the shoulder.

“Really?! Why do you have to do this to me? You know how much I love horses! Why can’t you stop scaring away everyone I make friends with?!” I ranted. Dean just started walking for the door.

“I don’t scare away all of your friends. Only the jerks that are making moves on you. I mean, really Jenna? You think all he wants is to show you a few horses?” He mocked. He held the door open for me and, choosing to ignore his jab, I made a beeline for Sam, who had started walking once he saw us come out. Sighing, he closed the door and jogged a couple steps to catch up to me.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing my shoulder and turning me to face him. “I’m not trying to ruin your life, you know. I’m just trying to protect you.”

“Well maybe I don’t need you to protect me! Did you think of that? I’m not an idiot, I know he’s hoping for more, but I also know he’ll back off if I tell him to. And even if he didn’t, don’t you think I can handle one teenage boy? My dad doesn’t have me train for nothing.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?” I asked him, exasperated.

I watched as he physically reigned in the automatic response that wanted to shoot past his lips. He worked his jaw back and forth and took a breath as he thought of the best way to say it.

“Guys suck. Ok? And I can say that with absolute certainty seeing as I am one.”

“Dean-” I tried to interject.

“No, let me finish. I just don’t want to see you get involved with some guy who's only going to end up hurting you.”

I waited to make sure he was finished before answering.

“Yeah, but did you miss the part where I said I wasn’t interested?” How could I be? There wasn’t a boy in the world who stood a chance of gaining my attention when the most perfect one was already in my life, completely oblivious to how thoroughly he had ruined the chances of me ever being interested in anyone else. Of course I couldn’t tell him this, so there was no real way to assure him that I was telling the truth. “Zero chance of me being hurt. I promise.”

“Maybe,” he said, clearly not sure if he believed me or not. “You could still fall off a horse though. I’m sure that would hurt.”

“Because the risk of falling off a horse is so much greater than getting hurt on a hunt?” I asked pointedly.

“Okay. You’re right,” he sighed after a moment of deciding whether or not to argue. “I’m sorry. You still have to get your dad to agree to it though,” he pointed out. I groaned and squared my shoulders, readying myself for the upcoming argument.

~~~~~

I was practically vibrating with excitement as Dean pulled into the driveway of Tony’s home. It had been one of Dad’s conditions, that Dean drove me. I could see several horses already and knew I’d be on one of them soon.

“Thanks Dean!” I said as I moved to get out of the car.

“Just a second,” he said, putting a hand on my knee to stop me. I paused with my hand on the handle and turned to him. “Just… promise you’ll be careful.” He finally got out. My heart stuttered a little like it always did when he worried. I knew it was only a brotherly concern no matter how much I might wish it was more.

“I will.” I told him with a soft smile. Then I jumped out of the car and headed towards where I saw Tony at the barn.

Chapter 3

[holystormfire]

What is the meaning of 2nd Thessalonians 2:8-11?

These are references of an impending spiritual rebellion, of unseen evils, and the rise of a powerful tyranical spiritual figure, the man of lawlessness. To those who are not followers of God and/or of the Heavenly sent Son, Jesus Christ, God sends a strong spirit of delusion, so they will succumb to the false teachings of the man of lawlessness... The antichrist. In conclusion it is now to be with God and His holy nature than to be against it. To gain nourishment for our soul is to read His word and to never abandon these truths.

What causes delusionment?

Ezekiel 7:19

They will throw away their money, tossing it out like worthless trash. It won’t buy their deliverance in that day of the Lord’s anger. It will neither satisfy nor feed them, for their love of money made them stumble into sin.

Misplaced affection

Philippians 3:3

For we who worship by the Spirit of God are the ones who are truly circumcised. We rely on what Christ Jesus has done for us. We put no confidence in human effort,

Misplaced confidence

Matthew 16:26

And how do you benefit if you gain the whole world but lose your own soul in the process? Is anything worth more than your soul?

Misplaced priorities

Ecclesiastes 4:16

He might become the leader of millions and be very popular. But then the next generation grows up and rejects him! So again, it is all meaningless, like chasing the wind.

Searching for satisfaction from any source other than what God’s Word says brings satisfaction

Ecclesiastes 4:4

Then I observed that most people are motivated to success by their envy of their neighbors. But this, too, is meaningless, like chasing the wind.

Success motivated by envy

Jeremiah 23:16

“This is my warning to my people,” says the Lord Almighty. “Do not listen to these prophets when they prophesy to you, filling you with futile hopes. They are making up everything they say. They do not speak for the Lord!”

Hopes built on lies and half-truths

Ecclesiastes 6:9

Enjoy what you have rather than desiring what you don’t have. Just dreaming about nice things is meaningless; it is like chasing the wind.

Discontentment

Romans 4:14-16

So if you claim that God’s promise is for those who obey God’s law and think they are “good enough” in God’s sight, then you are saying that faith is useless. And in that case, the promise is also meaningless. But the law brings punishment on those who try to obey it. (The only way to avoid breaking the law is to have no law to break!) So that’s why faith is the key! God’s promise is given to us as a free gift.

Seeking salvation through any other means than through faith in Jesus Christ

Jeremiah 10:15

Idols are worthless; they are lies! The time is coming when they will all be destroyed.

Worshiping anything other than the Lord

Titus 1:16

Such people claim they know God, but they deny him by the way they live. They are despicable and disobedient, worthless for doing anything good.

Hypocritical living/ Compromised living

I personally believe that the life of compromise is following the beliefs of Baalim/ Baal and Ashtaroth mentioned in the Old testament. Which is basically a version of idolatry.

Judges 2:11 KJV

And the children of Israel did evil in the sight of the LORD, and served Baalim:

Judges 2:13 KJV

And they forsook the LORD, and served Baal and Ashtaroth.

Judges 10:6 KJV

And the children of Israel did evil again in the sight of the LORD, and served Baalim, and Ashtaroth, and the gods of Syria, and the gods of Zidon, and the gods of Moab, and the gods of the children of Ammon, and the gods of the Philistines, and forsook the LORD, and served not him.

Modern practices of Baal worship today that you may be unaware of.

Baal worship included promoting new, man-centered ideas for success in farming and fertility, as well as child sacrifice (known as abortion in this period), serving the matters of man that do not mention the true and living God. Wicked, "respected", and persuasive natures in individuals given in to those strongholds, personalities, and influence claiming they serve God but are partakers in sin and like it that way. Such as fornication, uncleanness, inordinate affection, evil concupiscence, and covetousness, which is idolatry. A weak spirit in the person that is not aligned with God and his laws.

The Bible says that Solomon allowed and promoted the worship of Ashtoreth, Chemosh, Molech, and other pagan gods.

Through Solomon we find that wisdom alone is not sufficient; we must also have a heart of obedience. As believers we should realize that we’re also susceptible to this type of influence and deception.

Isaiah 42:18-20 KJV

Straight forward disobedience

[rosietrace]

Davidson Novellion

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“Oh?... You underestimate me?.. Well, now I'm obligated to prove you wrong with a single swing of a blade.”

— Davidson Novellion

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General Information

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Full Name — Davidson Mordred Novellion

↳ Davidson; A name of Hebrew origin, meaning ‘Son of David’.

↳ Mordred; A name taken from the Welsh form ‘Medraut’, and possibly the Latin form ‘Moderatus’, meaning ‘controlled, moderated’. In Arthurian legend, Mordred was the illegitimate son (and in certain versions, nephew) of King Arthur.

↳ Novellion; Taken from the word ‘Novel’, with additional letters.

Japanese ver. — デビッドソン モードレッド ノベリオン

Romaji ver. — Debiddoson Mōdoreddo Noberion

Twisted from: The Black Knight

❐ — Arthurian Legend

V/A(日本語): Yūichi Nakamura(中村悠一)

↳ Voices Gojo Satoru from Jujutsu Kaisen

V/A(英語/EN): Josey Montana McCoy

↳ Voices Kaeya Alberich from Genshin Impact

Age: 19

Birthday: October 19th

Horoscope: Scorpio ♏

Species: Human

Height: 187 cm

Hair color: Ink Black

Eye color: Amber (+ Black scleras when UM is activated)

Gender/Pronouns: Male, He/They

Sexuality: Bisexual, Demisexual

Dominant hand: Left

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Extra Information

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Homeland: The Blackheart Empire

↳ Formerly known as the ‘Lucretian’ Empire

『 Family:

Mordred Lucretius — Father

Antoinette Winchester Lucretius — Mother

Lancelot Winchester Novellion — Younger Brother

Roya Callistis — Cousin 』

Dormitory: TBA

School Year: 3rd Year

Class: 3-A(seat no. 1)

Club: Fencing Club

Best class(es): Fencing, physical education, debate

Worst class(es): Prophecy, ancient curses

Like(s): Himself /j, teasing his brother, dressing up, swordsmanship, sparring, horseback riding/archery, equestrianism in general, makeup, ducks, walks in the garden with his mother, fairytales his Mother used to tell him at night

Dislike(s): His father… Sort of, handling political affairs, being petty, talking shit about Roya /j /j, the idea of abandonment, lack of acknowledgment for his accomplishments, playing second fiddle, Roya Callistis, his brother getting hurt, being called a horse girl /j

Hobbies: Swordsmanship, horseback riding, horseback archery, hand-to-hand combat, unnecessarily complex debate, upside-down chess, blindfolded grenade launching, doing his makeup, feeding ducks

Talent(s): Sweet talk, swordsmanship, sparring, horseback archery, political debate/negotiation, general persuasion, getting what he wants ~~that counts right /j~~

Flaw(s): Prideful, two-faced, manipulative, apathetic towards those he doesn't care about, selfish, vindictive, competitive

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Personality

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Honestly, Prince Davis is quite charismatic, no? Ladies, gentlemen, those from lands far and wide would give anything just to grovel at his feet!

So kind, so hospitable, so…. Competitive, yet compassionate.

Why, some might even say the Prince is just damn near perfect!...

….. That's what they all say, unfortunately. Davis is frighteningly good at keeping up an act for long periods of time. Those with a keener eye know to steer clear of him; most of the time, at least.

His mask feels too real. Putting on a compassionate, hospitable, yet prideful face for the sake of the glory it brings him in return.

Out of all those three traits, Davis is mostly prideful. His pride — in most cases — goes before all else. And he isn't afraid to use some…. Underhanded, yet manipulative, tactics to satisfy it.

Don't expect him to genuinely care about you. If you aren't Lance, or someone he's close to in general, don't expect genuine kindness off of him. At most, you'll get hit with a blank expression.

Never get on his bad side. Davis knows what he wants, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to get what he wants. By getting on his bad side, the only thing he wants out of you is begging for mercy.

Davis' pride knows no bounds. He will do anything, anything, to get what he wants.

Desperate as he may come off, at the very least — the man knows what he wants.

And he's good at getting what he wants.

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Unique Magic: Mordred (モードレッド)

♔ Allows user to summon a shadow-like clone of themselves. Said clone wears a full suit of armor, obscuring their physical features.

As for the user themselves, they develop black scleras, as well as their hands having the effect of looking like they were consumed by shadow itself.

By summoning the clone, many of the user's physical stats will rapidly increase. Such as:

♔ Physical strength

♔ Physical speed

♔ Advanced hearing/sight

♔ Faster reaction time/reflexes

The clone can only stay depending on the amount of energy used by the user. In a situation in which their energy has dissipated completely (especially if they push themselves to their limit), the user will collapse and be temporarily paralyzed.

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Thoughts on them

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“He's a perplexing subject of conversation. Prince Davis is a prideful individual, frankly, I find nothing wrong with that. I just find it inconvenient and…. Unsatisfactory.”

— Victoria Shard, Davidson's ‘rival’

“It's hard to understand my brother, honestly. I'm supposed to say he's wonderful, and he is…. When he wants to be.”

— Lancelot Novellion, Davidson's younger brother

“I admire my cousin, his accomplishments certainly are…. Something. I don't understand that look in his eyes when he looks at me, though. Do you happen to know anything about it?”

— Roya Callistis, Davidson's cousin

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Additional Trivia

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✑ Main Theme: Judas by Lady Gaga

✑ Backstory: 『 The Weight of the Sky 』

✑ OC Playlist: TBA

༝ㅤ･ㅤ˚ㅤ。ㅤ.ㅤ⋆ㅤ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ♔

♔ Davis hates losing. He just hates it. The only time he tolerates it is during the Swordsman Solstice, and that's only because he knows Victoria's ambition knows no bounds.

♔ Victoria's one of the few people Davis genuinely respects. Like him, her pride — her ambition — knows no bounds. Nothing can stop the two of them when it comes to satisfying what must be satisfied. And in that sense, they find mutual respect in each other because of that.

♔ Every year, in every Swordsman Solstice, Davis has always played second fiddle to Victoria. As much as he wishes to respect her by honoring the win…. His pride can't handle being a runner-up.

♔ Don't try asking him why he seemingly dislikes Roya. He's not going to elaborate, whatsoever. The same applies to Lance if you ever go to him for answers.

♔ Roya is painfully oblivious to Davis' genuine disdain for him, to the point it's almost painful because of how glaringly obvious it can be 😭

♔ Davis' hobbies are…. Unconventionally entertaining. At least to him. He usually plays the games he plays by himself since no one — not even Lance — wants to play with him.

♔ Davis is the reason behind the numerous scars Lance acquired during his childhood. More specifically, the ones on his face.

♔ Is a horse girl, and named his horse ‘Spirit’ /j /j

Davis' Tags

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Appearance

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#davidson novellion • #『 davis ⚔️ 』

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