#not bc she's against breaking rules or even breaking the law but bc she thinks that they need to hold themselves accountable

[5bi5]

Wish we could have seen a Kendra-Faith discussion on their philosophies toward slaying because like yes they're opposites in some ways but they've also both fully accepted their slayerhood as a core part of their identities in a way that takes Buffy a long time

[zorostitties]

Aurora; 11 (m)

⤕ Your existence had been an endless night, where shadows whispered long forgotten secrets. Trapped in a golden cage, your fragile mind and shattered memories were chains that kept you from dreaming of freedom. Then, he appeared with the first light of dawn, like a gentle sun warming your cold skin. In his gaze, the promise of a new beginning; in his presence, the sunrise your soul had longed for.

In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, mental health issues, grief, physical abuse.

rating: 18+

word count: 9k

A/N: HELLO WORLD!!! This one came a bit late but here it is!! Honestly this chapter was the trickiest to write bc I didn't know how to still make most of it entertaining. I'm proud of myself for DESTROYING this writer's block with my own hands, though. 😈 With this chapter, we reach the mid point of our story!! Not literally, though, because I don't know how many chapters we still have ahead of us lol BUT we're def in the middle. ANYWAY! Feedback as usual is VERY MUCH appreciated! If you've been reading this fic up until now and never commented, please send me a hi or anything. I'll love to know how you like the story. DON'T BE SHY AROUND ME BABYGIRL 😈 Enjoy <3

⤕  Masterlist  ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Playlist

Caution was the rule that dominated Olrox’s life.

He had learned from a young age that in order to survive in this world, you have to be cautious about everything. The people you let into your life, your enemies, the alliances you make; before speaking, you should listen. Before forming an opinion, you should take as much information as you could find. Before taking action, you should think about it – plan it, revise it, think about it again and again and again.

Caution was what kept Olrox alive while his city and his people burned. Caution was the reason why Olrox was still alive to this day despite all odds being against him. And caution was what told him he had to leave the Old World soon.

Olrox knew when a war was lost; he had tried to turn the tables in the past, and it led to nothing but pain. He knew better now. Sometimes, retreating is the best course of action.

Erzsebet had retrieved the second half of Sekhmet’s soul. Olrox tried to intervene by giving Alucard an advantage in the run after the mummy; the son of Dracula had failed to take it. There was nothing he could do anymore, not now that Europe became Sekhmet’s territory.

Olrox had to be cautious for the sake of his inner voice – even more than usual. Erzsebet was still no goddess, but she had managed to summon the soul of one back to the land of the living… and that was a clear commandment for him to stay away.

Which is why Olrox was shocked at himself when he left the docks and flew towards Paris.

Every instinct in him was yelling at him to turn back. Her stench was worse than ever; he could feel her power from miles and miles away. It made the tiny hairs in his arms raise, made him feel genuine repulse. He shouldn’t be anywhere near her. That wasn’t fear or cowardice as he knew Mizrak had assumed. That wasn’t even just his caution.

No… that was something that ran deep within Olrox – in his body, his spirit and his soul.

It was a law he shouldn’t break.

Preys shouldn’t sleep around predators. Earth shouldn’t stop spinning. Rain shouldn’t go upwards. Fish shouldn’t be out of the water.

A god shouldn’t be anywhere near another god.

That is why Olrox had been so cautious ever since the night Tenochtitlan burned. He had to take care for something other than his life – his inner voice.

But Olrox was marching towards Paris anyway, and even though he knew the rules better than anyone else, he couldn’t stop himself.

Perhaps because a part of him never got to terms with what happened to his people, all these centuries ago. Perhaps because, although he promised himself to never join any cause that wouldn’t benefit him only, he never got over the fact that he had failed more than once to fight for justice.

Or perhaps because Mizrak’s saddened brown eyes didn’t leave his mind for a second.

And spend a lifetime running from her? No.

This was Mizrak’s response to Olrox’s invite to come to the New World with him. Not because he didn’t want to go; but because he didn’t want to live a life hiding from Erzsebet.

And perhaps that was enough of a reason for Olrox to want to defeat her.

The closer he got to Paris, the more his heart tightened. He felt his limbs get weaker, a strange ill sensation set in his guts. He’d never felt the presence of another god so strongly like that; before, Erzsebet was just feeding off Sekhmet’s power. Now that she had settled another half of the deity’s soul, things got entirely different. Much more complicated.

The greater force overwhelms the weakest. Erzsebet-Sekhmet had claimed territory over the entirety of Paris, even if she did it unknowingly. It made things even harder to navigate.

But Olrox remembered that Mizrak, a simple human being, was somewhere down there fighting, so he shouldn’t make excuses.

Even so – he had to be careful. Facing Erzsebet directly would be unwise.

Then, he decided to focus on Drolta.

He never liked her. She reminded him of the Spanish Christians too much. Her obsession disgusted him. But he had to admit that she was strong – much more now in this horrendous form.

So Olrox wouldn’t be able to face her in his usual form, too.

The transformation was longer than he expected, took too much energy from him; even in this form, he wouldn’t be able to give his all. Sekhmet’s presence overwhelmed him. But Olrox pushed forward anyway until he no longer resembled a man, but a giant, glorious winged snake in the night sky.

He came in time to save Alucard from a certain strike.

Purple lightnings of pure power slashed the sky.

Drolta knew what she was dealing with immediately.

She groaned, wrapping her arm around her own stomach for a moment – the exact spot where the power jolt hit her – before taking flight once again. She narrowed her eyes and took a defensive position.

“Quetzalcoatl,” She hissed in a mix of surprise, anger and pain. “I should’ve known you were just a snake!”

Olrox attacked again.

The sky got brightened up in eerie purple flashes as their battle unraveled above the ceilings of Paris. Drolta was strong – much stronger than a regular night creature, but her previous fight with Alucard had taken a toll on her. Meanwhile, Olrox was fighting with half of his usual strength; being in Sekhmet’s territory weakened him deeply. In fact, transmuting into the Quetzalcoatl form was something he shouldn’t even be doing, but fighting in his normal form against her would be suicide.

The scales were evenly balanced in this fight.

Drolta slashed his body with her sharp nails – so strong that they could pierce even through his usually impenetrable scale armor, making him snarl in pain. Olrox sent more and more lightnings in her direction. She flew in zigzag, trying to avoid being hit, and every time one missed, it destroyed entire chunks of buildings; any time it hit, Drolta yelled in agony.

Olrox understood Alucard’s strategy: by keeping Erzsebet and Drolta apart, they’d have double chances to defeat them. He knew some magicians – including the Belmont boy – were somewhere down there fighting Sekhmet’s vessel. All he had to do was keep her busy while they worked, even though Olrox didn’t know how much longer he could take…

His inner voice was unsettled; he could feel His discomfort, how it tugged at the corners of his consciousness, making him lose focus for a second. Back away, He ordered Olrox; Go away. Take distance. You must not be near them. You must not.

Yes, Olrox knew that; he knew what he was doing was foolish and Olrox didn’t like to be foolish–

Wait.

Near... them?

But Sekhmet was the only deity there–

His eyes passed rapidly by the city’s cathedral, meters and meters away from where he was. There… there was a figure laid in front of its central doors.

And at that moment, the world stopped.

Nothing else mattered. His inner voice. Drolta or Erzsebet or Sekhmet. His caution.

None of that mattered anymore because it was Mizrak and he was bleeding to death.

A desperate snarl erupted from his throat as Olrox flew in his direction, leaving an injured and tired Drolta behind. He crossed the streets at an unnerving pace, way too fast for a creature so big, making humans down there gasp and run, not knowing if this was another enemy.

Olrox didn’t care about any of them. He got close to the ground, his dragon form dissolving in a black cloud until what resurfaced was a desperate man running towards Notre Dame.

As soon as he got a good look at Mizrak, his heart dropped.

The black haired monk bled from the stomach – he had been pierced. He was laying on the floor, his fist tightened against the wound; his breathing was shallow, his lips already had a nauseating blue color. Olrox knelt down by his side and immediately took him in his arms. Mizrak was getting cold.

This can’t be happening. It can’t be.

Mizrak, who was nothing but fair and virtuous and kind; Mizrak, who weeped at the death of unknown people and put his life on the line for them, even if he was just a fragile human. Mizrak, who made Olrox remember the best mankind had to offer.

And he was dying.

Olrox ripped some of Mizrak’s cape and pressed it against the wound to stanch the bleeding; he gently tapped his face, called his name a few times. To his relief, Mizrak opened his eyes – but there wasn’t much strength to him. His olive skin was sickeningly pale.

Mizrak looked confused, as if his sight was out of focus. Then, Olrox saw the moment his pupils dilated almost imperceptibly.

“Ol...rox?” He managed to speak somehow – his voice was but a ragged, painful breath.

“Shhh. Don’t speak.” The vampire shushed him softly before, with the utmost care, helping him to sit. Mizrak groaned in pain. Cold fear crept up Olrox’s body; he had already lost way too much blood. Medicine wouldn’t save him, and as far as Olrox knew, there weren’t any healers powerful enough to help in France…

It was then that Olrox realized that the cold he felt had nothing to do with fear.

His eyes widened.

The air smelled of coal and sulfur.

He looked behind his shoulder in time to see the tall shadow approaching.

Olrox brought Mizrak closer to him protectively. The entity grinned at them, trembling in what could be interpreted as excitement. At that moment, Olrox damned that fucking Abbot for the hundredth time for dragging Mizrak into all this.

“Old Man Coyote,” Olrox hissed. “He’s not for you.”

His inner voice got agitated, which surprised Olrox. He has been in the presence of this demon before, and He didn’t show much of a reaction… what had changed?

The shadow laughed mockingly – it was like multiple voices overlapping – before disappearing once again.

He had to take Mizrak out of there as soon as possible.

His original plan was to just teleport both of them out of there, but fuck – Olrox had exhausted himself with Drolta; the little strength he still had was being suppressed by Sekhmet’s presence. Olrox helped the monk get to his feet, putting Mizrak’s arm over his own shoulders. Olrox didn’t know how damaged his organs were, so he had to be delicate. Slowly, Olrox started to walk out of there.

“We’re not far from a safe place,” Olrox explained. “Hold on a little longer.”

Mizrak whimpered in response. His head was hanging low, he panted with difficulty. It just made Olrox feel even more desperate.

Then, out of nowhere, the monk raised his head.

A new emotion clouded his face.

“Olrox…” he called in a weak voice again. The vampire shushed him.

“Save it. Everything will be okay.” He didn’t know if he was trying to convince Mizrak or himself. The monk, however, got more and more agitated.

“No… Olrox… y-you have to…”

“Don’t exhaust yourself.”

Mizrak groaned again – but this time, it sounded more like frustration.

He looked over his shoulder; his eyes widened.

Using the little strength he still had, Mizrak put the entire weight of his body on Olrox’s side – making him lose his balance and stumble closer to the sidewalk.

“What–?” Olrox tried to say.

He had no time.

Mizrak got away from Olrox’s grip in a surprisingly swift movement and pushed him into an alley on their left.

The vampire fell on the cobblestones, completely confused; why did he do that? Did he not want to be saved? Was he disgusted of him–?

Light.

It came out of nowhere. It was blinding. It brightened up the whole sky.

Olrox watched with widened eyes as the avenue he was standing in a second ago was completely engulfed in light. He thought it was an explosion at first, but no boom or shockwave came. He felt his stomach drop, his fingertips shake.

Mizrak stood under the light with closed eyes.

Then, Olrox started to hear the screams.

They came from all directions, screams of the purest agony. Screams of death.

Things slowly made sense in his mind.

Olrox approached the corner of the alley. Hesitantly, he stretched his arm towards that light. His fingertips burned. He immediately flinched away.

That was sunlight, even though the sun itself was still hidden behind the eclipse.

He retreated and gazed at Mizrak in pure shock.

Mizrak… somehow, he knew that was going to happen. At the last minute, he pushed Olrox into that alley; it was between two tall buildings, reigned by shadows. Sunlight wouldn’t reach it from the position it was coming from.

That fragile human was on the verge of death himself, and even so, he saved Olrox’s life.

His heart tightened.

After no more than two minutes, the light diminished. Olrox didn’t care to learn where that came from, who caused it, and why it made his stomach drop like that. All he cared about was taking Mizrak in his arms again before he could fall. All he cared about was bringing Mizrak closer to him, cradling him, caressing his face.

Weakly, the monk put his gloved hand over Olrox’s.

He was visibly in so much pain. Even so, Mizrak’s half lidded eyes were full of determination and… care.

He took a deep, difficult breath before speaking.

“F-Fight.” Mizrak whispered. “For m-me.”

Olrox’s heart tightened even more.

The vampire never expected he’d find someone like this in the Old World. He never expected that this painful sweetness would take control of his actions again, of his sanity, overwhelming everything else – his usual caution, his selfishness, even his inner voice.

Mizrak represented everything Olrox loved about humanity.

So, if this fragile human asked him to fight – he would.

Olrox brought their faces closer to each other’s. He pressed his lips over Mizrak’s softly; his hand caressed the monk’s face gently. It was a chaste kiss – much different from all the kisses filled with passion and heat and anger they had shared. And yet, that simple press of lips ignited fire through Olrox’s soul much more than anything they’d done to each other before.

He could feel that something was happening not far from there. An explosion of red power that made him feel even more ill. That didn’t matter. Olrox just wanted keep closer to Mizrak for a second more.

Finally, he delicately laid Mizrak on the floor and got up. If he wanted to save the monk, he’d have to act fast; each wasted minute could cost Mizrak’s life.

Olrox was weakened. Olrox’s inner voice kept telling him to run away. He ignored all that and marched towards battle once more.

That day, Mizrak would lose his mortal life. And yet – he got something far more precious, far more powerful in return.

That day, Mizrak gained the heart of a god.

Drolta was tired.

Tired of the incompetence around her. Tired of these humans. Tired of waiting. She had waited for over a thousand years to awaken her goddess; century after century, she had roamed the Earth after a suitable vessel. Her only goal was to bring Sekhmet back. Everything she did was to comply with her duty as a High Priestess.

And she was tired of Erzsebet.

She took care of this woman for almost two centuries; fed her with her goddess’ holy blood, trained her, pampered her. Drolta killed thousands for Erzsebet’s sake. Drolta made a pact with a demon for Erzsebet’s sake.

And now that she had finally retrieved Sekhmet’s Ba after centuries of searching, how did Erzsebet repay her?

By being humiliated by a bunch of humans.

Drolta was tired.

So when she finally bit Erzsebet’s neck and sucked her blood, she felt nothing. There was a time when maybe, maybe, Drolta felt some sort of affection for her. Not anymore. Not now that she had ashamed and failed her.

This power belonged to her, after all. It had always belonged to her.

Drolta felt a wave of pure power penetrate her skin, her bones, her muscles, every centimeter of her body. It hurt like she was being pierced by a million needles, like she was being chewed by the biggest crocodiles of the Nile. An animalistic growl erupted from her throat; red energy revolved her, cloistered her, pierced her, clacking the air. The air got hotter than the midday sun in the Sahara. Her leathery skin smoked.

Pure agony was what her body felt; her mind, however, was enlightened – as if such excruciating pain broke the boundaries of consciousness.

So much power. It was as if she could see and hear everything at the same time, but all made sense; she could feel the weight of a spirit much, much higher than her permeate her mind. A spirit filled with anger and hate and blood thirst.

It almost felt like an inner voice, commanding her to attack.

Sekhmet, the Goddess of War; She Who Mauls.

Maniacal laughter escaped past her lips. The Belmont boy, knelt on the floor whilst holding the woman that carried a whisp of Sekhmet’s soul, looked at her with widened eyes. Yes; feel scared, be frightened, for I have returned. She was tired of him, too. Drolta had faced Belmonts in the past and she hated all of them throughout history. It was time for that clan to end.

But most of all – that girl he was holding had to die. Who did she think she was to get anywhere near Sekhmet’s Akh? How dare she disturb her goddess’ soul like that? She didn’t know what Sekhmet needed, what she represented. She had no right to be anywhere near her.

After these two, she’d go after that snake. Drolta never trusted Olrox enough, but she didn’t think he’d have the guts to actually face her… and most of all – she didn’t know what lied within him. You must destroy them, her inner voice growled in a wrathful female tone that did not belong to her.

The son of Dracula was next in line. She was also sick of him. He had killed her once, and she’d have her revenge. Drolta would not give him another chance to escape.

And lastly…

Ruby.

She had to die.

It was all Erzsebet’s incompetence, Drolta knew; all she had to do was keep that girl locked and away from the world, but she obviously failed. Drolta spent so long breaking into her, making her submissive – and it all went to waste in less than a week. Now, things were out of control. Ruby had obliterated most of her army. Ruby was remembering, and she shouldn’t remember anything.

But Erzsebet was dead and Drolta had retrieved Sekhmet’s power, so there was no use in keeping her alive anymore. It was time to fulfill her part on the pact and finally get freed of it.

Yes. Everything was within reach. Everything. There was nothing she couldn’t do; there was nothing she couldn’t achieve; there was no one powerful enough to stop her. I am Sekhmet, Goddess of War, her inner voice growled. And I want my revenge against the humans who have wronged me.

Drolta would be the harbinger of this revenge.

She raised her right arm, ready to slash the Belmont boy with her sharp nails–

And it was stopped midway.

It couldn’t be. Not him again.

Alucard stood between the couple and her, halting her attack with his long sword. That… that half-breed bastard was putting himself in the way again. She couldn’t stand looking at his face anymore, she’d took her time to kill him and she’d make it as painful as possible–

Drolta felt a shiver run down her spine.

A shiver?!

No. That couldn’t be possible… she was the Goddess of War and Revenge. She was more powerful than anyone on Earth. Nothing should be able to make her shiver.

Alucard let a raspy, angry scream. It was the first time he let any sort of extreme reaction in all the times they fought. The air around him became different. Drolta… Drolta could see things she couldn’t before. There was a red aura growing around him as rapidly as flames on hay.

His sclera got red.

And at that moment, Drolta knew why she felt a shiver.

His power and his aura and his eyes made her body remember the most powerful creature who had walked this Earth, the only man who ever made her feel real fear, the only man who ever made her obey.

Drolta shouldn’t have forgotten – but that was the son of Dracula.

He didn’t get turned into a vampire, he was born as one. The Vampire King’s masterpiece; the perfect alchemical aberration.

And Drolta realized with anger that during all of their fights until that moment, Alucard wasn’t giving his all.

She growled back at him and tried to attack with her left arm. Alucard deflected it and pushed her back with his sword. No. No one should be able to push her back. She was… she was stronger than anyone else, wasn’t she?!

Drolta launched herself towards him again – this time, he wouldn’t escape. Alucard’s face was distorted in a scowl of anger now. He pulled his cape to cover his body and teleported in a beam of yellow light – only to appear behind her.

She had time to turn back and see as Alucard summoned a giant ball of pure fire and lava in her direction.

Drolta stopped it with her bare hands, but that thing kept pushing and pushing and pushing with the force of thousands of tons; she grunted with the effort, felt the ground beneath her crack, the air get so hot that it boiled the skin of her palms. No, she wouldn’t be defeated. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t.

Drolta yelled when she finally managed to kick that thing away in the Belmont boy’s direction. Unfortunately, he deflected it somehow.

For the first time, she focused her gaze on him again.

The Belmont boy walked towards her, took his whip in his hands; a serious, stone hard expression covered his features. She could see it, too – the blue aura growing around him, invisible to the human eye. He’d never transpired as much power as in that moment. Shouldn’t he be at least tired after fighting against Erzsebet?

The girl behind him, the one that carried a whisp of Sekhmet’s soul…

Mortals work better when they are in their best feelings.

Love is extremely powerful in magical terms.

Drolta found all that pathetic.

Another maniacal laughter erupted from her throat as both men got ready to fight her: Alucard’s sword embedded in red fire, the Belmont boy’s whip embedded in blue. Pathetic is what both of them were. All of them were pathetic – these humans soldiers, the weak vampires that died in battle, Erzsebet, this disgusting city. They all would soon be trembling under her feet; it’s where every living creature deserved to be. Fear is what would unite this world. Fear would be her crown.

They attacked.

Drolta used her hair tentacles to deflect them. Each tentacle had an extremely sharp blade on their tips; they were able to cut through concrete and cobblestones with ease as they whipped around violently. Perhaps Alucard would be able to heal from such injuries, but the human boy wouldn’t – so she focused mostly on him.

Both men immediately understood her tactic.

They fought in synchronicity as if they were connected somehow, attacking while protecting each other. The Belmont snapped his whip around him, twirled mid air to create a field of protection around his body while pushing her tentacles away; whenever one got too dangerously close, Alucard cut them. Drolta was able to regenerate the tentacles fast with her new powers, but it still burned whenever one of them were able to slash her.

That wasn’t going how she wanted it.

Drolta used her nails to try to cut them, her legs to try to kick them, her tentacles to try to strangle them; they always somehow got away. The Belmont summoned fire and ice and lightning against her, somehow piercing through her thick skin; the red flames of Alucard’s sword burned her and his sheer swordsmanship confused her, forced her to be on her toes the entire time. The vampire made sure to tank her heaviest blows so the Belmont could attack with his magic freely.

Alucard jiggled from side to side in the blink of an eye – so fast that even her sharp senses failed to follow. Drolta couldn’t expect where his next attack would come from; his sword twirled in the air creating arches of death, trying to reach for her neck before falling in the hands of its owner again. He was even faster now compared to their previous fights, even more brutal, his precision heightened to two hundred percent.

Excruciating pain.

Drota widened her eyes. Blood spilled from her right shoulder and hair tentacles.

She was so focused on Alucard that she didn’t see when the Belmont sent a sharp ice shuriken wrapped in electricity her way.

Alucard didn’t give her time to recover.

He pushed her up towards the sky – up, up, up, each push more and more violent; his attacks came from all sides, his sword slashing and piercing her leathery skin, each cut deeper than the other. Alucard’s strikes were so fast and so intense and so disorienting and so painful that Drolta couldn’t help but stop for a moment to try to protect her body with her arms and tentacles; he didn’t give her any opening.

Enough!

Drolta screamed in both anger and pain. She whipped all of her tentacles towards him at the same time, finally managing to push him; Alucard fell many meters away back to the ground, creating a crater where he hit.

She smiled. There’s no way he didn’t get slashed by her tentacles this time–

The whip tangled around her neck.

Drolta didn’t have time to prepare for the kick on her face the Belmont struck, propelled by his fire magic. He kicked again, punched her head, kicked again; Drolta growled, feeling rage fill her more and more. That human scum had the audacity to hit her with his bare hands?!

She clasped her hands together and hammered him down to the ground. The boy hit the cobblestones on his back, blood spilled from his lips. Drolta grinned at his immobile figure; she made her nails grow until they were as long as a blade before flapping her wings and flying down on a beeline towards him. Oh, she’d pierce through his chest. She’d take pleasure in ripping his heart out with him still alive.

Her nails were centimeters away from his body…

And then, she couldn’t feel her left hand anymore.

Drolta had forgotten about the ice shuriken he made earlier.

It cut her entire hand off.

She yelled in agonizing pain and stumbled away, holding the severed arm close to her chest. He… he cut her hand off. That fucking human boy cut her hand off.

Anger as red as the sky above her rose from her heart.

Her body got once again wrapped in energy. Crimson electricity clacked around her; her tentacles moved around frenetically like angry snakes. No. That couldn’t be happening. She had achieved the power she sought for over a thousand years. These two couldn’t be offering her enough of a challenge… that didn’t make sense.

Her inner voice growled.

Will you continue playing around with my power like this?

Drolta was tired.

She turned to face them at the exact moment they would attack together.

Time stopped.

Drolta gazed at both men. They were frozen in the air centimeters away from her. They had painful expressions. She could see them struggling to break away from her spell.

The woman laughed and straightened her posture. She lifted her severed arm. After focusing a bit more energy there, it regenerated in the blink of an eye; bone, muscle, veins, flesh and skin rebuilding a new hand in seconds, much faster than Ruby’s healing. Her inner voice was right. She’d already given these two insects enough time to play around. She’d been fighting with what she knew; using her body and strength. But… that was only the surface of what a goddess could do.

Drolta focused on this new power, letting her heightened consciousness travel through it. The larger spirit that now inhabited her body had an infinite reservoir of power. So, so much power; so much energy. The possibilities of what she could do were infinite. They went much beyond just making her skin thicker, her muscles bigger or her tentacles sharper.

It didn’t matter that her opponents were the son of Dracula and this Belmont. Alucard wasn’t Dracula himself, he only had a fraction of his father’s power. And the Belmont… he was just a human magician.

Her newly grown hand got wrapped in pure energy.

She grinned and pointed her hand towards Alucard.

He had to go first. Not only because she despised him, but because he was hindering her attacks the most, confusing her, getting in the way and acting as a shield for the human boy.

Drolta unleashed a wave of red energy his way.

It blew on his face. Alucard groaned in pain as he was sent flying back meters and meters away, hitting a building on his way – destroying half of it – before hitting the floor the same way he did to her earlier at the Notre Dame.

And then – it was just her and the Belmont boy, frozen in time in front of her.

Drolta chuckled with cruelty again. He didn’t have his vampire shield anymore. That wave of energy would tear him to pieces.

Slowly, she aimed her hand at him.

For every suffering, a wisdom is gained, she thought. Maybe if this fight hadn’t happened, Drolta wouldn’t have realized the true extension of her new powers. For that, she was grateful. A goddess shouldn’t fight like a mortal. Now, she knew how to obliterate this city with a flick of fingers. After the Belmont boy was done – and after she beheaded Alucard; she knew that wasn’t enough to kill him – she would have no enemies powerful enough to face her anymore…

Her thoughts got interrupted by a punch.

Drolta got dizzy for a moment.

What?!

The Belmont boy – he broke away from her freezing spell and landed his fiery fist on her face.

Love is extremely powerful in magical terms.

Drolta growled. She hated him. She hated him. She HATED him! He had to die. He was going to die right now. She raised her hand wrapped in power again to annihilate him – there was no way this human boy would survive her next attack–

The next second – all her power was gone.

That girl the Belmont put his life on the line to protect… she was floating in front of Drolta, holding her wrist with her much smaller hand.

And yet, when she squeezed Drolta’s wrist, she yelled in pain and fell to her knees.

Drolta looked deep within that girl’s eyes. They were golden, her irises were vertical like a feline’s. Her grip was hotter than Alucard’s lava ball; her expression was ferocious like a lioness’.

At that moment, Drolta finally understood.

That girl wasn’t stealing her goddess’ power. That girl… somehow she did what not even Erzsebet was able to do.

She became an avatar.

Drolta wasn’t looking at a human girl. Drolta was looking straight into the eyes of Sekhmet.

She shivered.

A part of Drolta wanted to smile, wanted to bow. Finally… after a thousand years, after uncountable nights of prayers, after sweat and blood and tears dropped, she stood in front of her goddess. The one she always fought for. The one who possessed her utmost loyalty and adoration. The one whom Drolta went to the ends of the world for; the one whom Drolta went as far as making a pact with a demon for her sake.

Drolta had fantasized of this moment many times before… the day she’d finally have Sekhmet walk on Earth again; and, if she died trying, the moment her goddess would meet her with open arms at the duat, after Anubis had weighed her heart as righteous and deserving of eternal rest.

But that was not how Sekhmet was looking at her at that moment.

Her golden eyes were clouded by rage and disapproval.

And, for the first time since her mortal days, Drolta felt shame.

“I am Sekhmet!” Her goddess growled as a golden aura grew around her like flames. “Guardian of the Dawn, Child of the Sun, Mistress of Healing!”

Drolta’s entire body shook in pain.

“I did this for you!” Drolta claimed. “All of this! I did it for you!”

“Made yourself into this unclean thing!” Sekhmet vociferated – and, as she spoke, Drolta realized that her inner voice was repeating the same words in unison; she felt as the soul within her and Sekhmet in front of her connected their consciousnesses into a single one. “Filled my temple with atrocities! Fed my soul to a disgusting walking corpse!”

Tears welled up Drolta’s eyes. Her chin trembled.

“So that you could live again!” She tried again; her goddess had to understand, she had to… “I-I thought it was what you wanted! I thought it was what you wanted!”

“It is time to balance the scales!” Sekhmet declared.

At that moment, reality hit Drolta.

Her beloved goddess. The one she had worshiped and served her entire life, from her mortal days to her vampire days to her reborn form…

Sekhmet was disappointed at her.

No. It was more than that.

Sekhmet despised her.

Tears dripped down Drolta’s cheeks.

“I thought it was what you wanted…” she whispered one last time. Pain much stronger than any physical attack slashed through her soul.

In less than a minute, Drolta’s determination was gone.

Her existence was pointless.

She did not fight as Sekhmet started to pull her power – her souls – back from Drolta’s body. She yelled in pain until her throat ached. She yelled for all the years gone to waste. She yelled as she felt her heart breaking into a million pieces.

Drolta weeped for the only real love she ever had as it turned its back on her, forever.

Alucard hadn’t completely healed the wound in his chest when Annette– Sekhmet intervened in the fight.

He almost sighed in relief when she did. He barely made it out alive of Drolta’s last attack; Richter wouldn’t have stood a chance. He stayed knelt on the floor holding his chest. Surprisingly, her attack made a lot of internal damage, but his skin wasn’t pierced – which didn’t mean he didn’t get hurt or wasn’t in pain.

But that pain could wait for now.

Because Richter was trying to reach Annette’s body as Sekhmet pulled her souls back.

Both of them – Annette and Drolta – were involved in a gigantic golden aura, as bright and as hot as the sun. Her power was jarring, he could feel it with every centimeter of his body. Richter made his way towards Annette with difficulty; he covered his arms with a layer of ice to try to lessen the burns before hugging her from behind.

A part of Alucard – the methodical part – was annoyed that this boy was intervening in the process. That was their only chance of putting Sekhmet’s souls where they belonged: out of anyone’s reach.

But Alucard’s mortal heart spoke much, much louder this time.

Because Richter was just a boy. Much stronger than the average human, carrying the heavy Belmont crest on his back with the responsibilities it possessed, one of the few mortals on Earth who could actually be a threat to a goddess.

But he was still just a boy in the end.

And like all Belmonts, he carried a heart too big, too sincere. It was a burden and a blessing at the same time. His heart made him experience the world in more intense ways than any other human Alucard ever met.

Richter was a Belmont. Like Juste, like his grandfather, his great-grandfather… like Simon. Like Trevor.

And on top of that, Richter was in love – and Annette could die at that moment, be consumed by Sekhmet’s power. This boy with a heart too big wouldn’t know what to do if he lost the one he loved the most.

So Alucard had to step in before he’d do something he would regret.

“Richter. My friend.” He called softly, resting his hand on the boy’s back, right over the Belmont crest.

Richter looked at Alucard with round blue eyes – scared blue eyes. I don’t care if we live in eternal fucking darkness, just leave Annette alone!, are the words that had just left Richter’s mouth. Alucard knew Richter didn’t process the true gravity of these statements, but at the heat of the moment, anything could become true.

He needed someone to be the voice of reason.

Alucard looked at him with empathy and quiet sadness.

“You know that’s not what she’d want.”

Richter gulped.

He tightened his eyes for a moment before finally – hesitantly – letting go of Annette.

Both men stepped back.

The golden aura between Annette and Drolta got stronger, more volatile. Tears of blood dripped down Annette’s eyes; Drolta screamed in pain like a hurt animal. The light got so strong that they had to protect their eyes.

Finally, with a last agonizing yell, that volatile aura exploded.

A shockwave hit them. Annette let go of Drolta’s wrist, each falling in a different direction; Richter rushed to catch her body before she could hit the floor.

Sekhmet’s presence was in this world no more.

Alucard would’ve sighed in relief if Annette weren’t in such a critical condition.

Richter was knelt on the floor while holding the girl in his arms. She was unresponsive. Richter called her over and over again, on the verge of tears; the scene made Alucard feel as if a cold hand gripped his heart.

He stood at some distance to give them space. In moments like this, Alucard wished he’d be fit to summon healing – it was one of the rarest forms of magic in existence. Healing someone else takes an absurd amount of energy… and this form of magic is not part of a vampire’s existence.

So there was nothing he could do at that moment but watch.

Richter was so young... he shouldn’t have to experience this type of loss so soon, especially when he didn’t even have the chance to confess his true (obvious) feelings.

You said you’d be here; make her feel it’s true. That she can always come back to you.

These were the words Alucard told him.

So, with a weak, trembling voice, Richter started his whispered confession.

His blue eyes were drowning in tears, but he still tried to sound firm as he described quietly the moment they first met. It even felt wrong for Alucard to witness this moment of fragility; he’d rather not be there at that moment, but he couldn’t walk away when they weren’t sure if their enemies were really gone. So Alucard chose to stand away from his field of view, but still protectively close. Richter held her gently.

“I can’t imagine the world without you, Annette. Any of it,” his voice was but a hopeful whisper. “Not hearing your voice, not seeing you roll your eyes at me, not waking up to know that whatever happens, somewhere, you are there. Please… don’t leave me. Please.”

Alucard tightened his lips. He felt genuine sadness at the boy’s heartfelt words.

...Something changed.

Annette’s body started to shine. Richter widened his eyes, startled.

But that shine was very brief this time. When it disappeared, Annette was herself again; her usual clothes were back, her hair was short again.

Alucard held his breath in anticipation.

Slowly, she opened her eyes. They were no longer soulless, her pupils weren’t vertical anymore… just her usual brown and round eyes.

“...You smell of burning,” she said in a weak, raspy voice.

Richter gasped. Fear immediately left his gaze, being replaced by utmost relief and joy. He chuckled and sighed. “Y-Yeah, that would be you… you’re like holding burning coals.”

Alucard watched with a small, serene smile while they hugged each other and cried.

He knew that feeling very well. Being so deeply in love with someone that your heart aches for them. Caring so much about someone that being apart brings genuine suffering. Sharing their sadness, their happiness, wanting to support them at every moment, knowing them intimately – and receiving this same intensity back.

Alucard had fallen in love countless times during his life… but it’s been a long time since he let himself feel it to the fullest. He decided to shroud his heart after so much pain, so much longing. At the slightest sign that he was beginning to develop feelings for someone, he’d immediately distance himself. He couldn’t bear going through anything like that anymore.

But at that moment, he realized something.

He’d been running away from pain and longing for so long that he had forgotten how love can be… sweet.

Was… was Alucard ready to feel it at its full intensity one more time?

Would his heart be strong enough to bear this again?

Did he even have the right to feel it, especially considering who this involved? What if the other end was too fragile to take him? Would Alucard take the pain of allowing himself to feel something like this again, only to have it ripped away from him like so many times in the past?

Would it be fair for him and for her?

Alucard didn’t know.

And his thoughts came to a halt when an anguished scream slashed the air.

Drolta.

She held her head, her breathing was irregular… for a second, she looked absolutely lost – almost like a child throwing a tantrum.

Drolta gazed at a confused Annette with pure hatred.

Then – Alucard saw the exact second she realized something.

Her eyes widened. Her back stiffened.

Alucard saw everything that unraveled in the next few seconds in slow motion.

Drolta turned her head to the northeast. At first, the vampire thought she wanted to flee – she was obviously weakened now; she had no power source, no army and no chances of winning. Of course, he would never let her go; his hand already gripped the hilt of the sword.

But then, Alucard saw her expression. The aggressiveness. The hurry in her gaze.

Those were not the eyes of someone planning to run away; they didn’t reflect defeat. That was not the gaze of a desperate woman wanting to go down fighting.

That was the gaze of a woman who had a plan.

And when she extended her giant wings and took flight, Alucard realized.

Notre Dame was at northeast.

He unsheathed his sword and flew.

Alucard hadn’t healed his wound completely; his brusque movement sent jolts of pain through his body. But at that moment, that didn’t matter – nothing else mattered, his mind went completely blank. Because even though Erzsebet was dead and Drolta was weakened and most certainly defeated, she still wanted to retrieve Ruby.

He would never let that happen.

They clashed mid air.

Drolta’s reflexes were slower now. Though she already sensed Alucard behind her, she couldn’t defend herself when he threw a heavy blow against her – sending her straight to the ground again not far from where they stood initially. A crater opened where her body hit, rising a cloud of smoke and debris.

She didn’t even have time to recover. Alucard was already upon her.

Both of them were slower, their limbs heavier, their powers weakened – but none of them wanted to lose. Alucard noticed that by Drolta’s fighting style, she was more worried in brushing him away than actually killing him. Her movements showed urgency. In fact, she looked almost desperate. Alucard was in a hurry, too; he didn’t know if Richter could still fight, considering the amount of blows he took, and Annette didn’t look like she could fight at that moment.

What was her plan? Why did she still want to get to Ruby? Sekhmet had completely vanished, the eclipse was still up in the sky – so what use would Ruby have? That couldn’t be just revenge. Drolta might’ve been defeated, but she would never lash out uselessly like this.

These answers would stay unanswered because Alucard needed to kill her.

He was tired of that woman, of the destruction she had caused, of the pain she inflicted. He’d been tracking her for five years – he needed to finish her right then and right there, he needed to end this chapter of his life. If Drolta staying alive meant Ruby would still be in danger, then there were no questions to be asked. She had to go – and she had to go now.

But Drolta was as determined as him.

She elbowed his chin in a blow that left him dazed; she gripped the hilt the sword and grabbed it from his hands. Then, she kicked his chest–

Right where the internal wound still hadn’t healed.

Alucard lost his senses for a second and fell on his back. He felt the taste of his own blood, his vision got blurred, extreme pain radiated from that spot in his chest to the rest of his body. As if she knew that was where the wound was, Drolta pressed her hoof right there to keep him on the ground. Alucard groaned in pain, trying to push her away–

His eyes widened when he looked up and realized what she was about to do.

Alucard had time to put his forearm in front of his body for some protection before Drolta impaled him with his own sword.

He screamed. The blade pierced through his forearm directly into his shoulder – if Alucard hadn’t moved a few centimeters up, she would’ve pierced his heart. With an angry growl, Drolta hammered the hilt of the sword with her fist with such strength that the blade sank into him, piercing the ground below.

Alucard spat blood. The pain was so extreme that he couldn’t think for a moment. Shit, I need to get up. I need to keep fighting. Get up!

His vision was still blurred when he saw Drolta being whipped from behind.

The woman let another yell of anger and pain before stumbling away from Alucard and turning around; Richter was, somehow, still standing. He had rushed to retrieve his whip which was already soaked in blue flames. His flames were visibly weakened now, showing the true state of his physical condition. Richter’s eyes, however, didn’t looked weakened; he sent a fast worried glimpse towards Alucard before gazing at Drolta with determination.

Alucard could hear the sounds of the fight happening beside him, but he didn’t look; he was too focused in trying to get his sword off him. He gripped it with his right hand and started to push it up. Every centimeter it moved send jolts of more pain throught his body. The internal wound and the wound Drolta had just inflicted hurt, his body was weak, his senses were slow – none of that mattered. He had to get up. He had to get up. Richter wouldn’t be able to fight for much longer. Get the fuck up!

With a last groan of pain, Alucard finally managed to take out the sword, holding it by the blade; it was completely soaked with his own blood. He looked towards Richter’s direction and his stomach dropped.

The Belmont boy was about to get hit with no defense.

“Richter!” Alucard managed to scream…

But a new sound completely engulfed his voice.

A purple lightning slashed the air.

Both Richter and Alucard looked above with shocked expressions as a giant winged snake floated near them.

Olrox hit Drolta on the chest with his electric attack; she screamed in agonizing pain, her whole body had spasms. Alucard didn’t expect that Olrox would come back, especially not to save Richter. The Belmont boy himself seemed shocked, though his eyes had anger and resentment in them.

Alucard took these small moments of distraction to stand up and hold the hilt of his sword again. He’d let himself feel pain and tiredness later.

With his last breath of strength, he ignited his sword in red fire once more.

Richter got the message.

As soon as Olrox’s attack ceased, Richter snapped his whip; it entangled around Drolta’s neck. She was too disoriented to resist. Richter pulled the whip, forcing her to bend on her back.

Alucard jumped in the air.

The sword was ready to come down on her neck.

Unexpectedly, Olrox sent another of his attacks – but this time, he aimed the lightning at Alucard’s blade, wrapping it in purple electricity which mixed with Alucard’s red fire.

Time slowed down once more.

Alucard could see everything with clarity: the air clacking with purple sparks around him. Richter’s blue fire burning Drolta’s neck. The reflection of his red fire on her face. Her widened eyes in an expression Alucard knew very well: the gaze of someone realizing they have nowhere else to go. The gaze of someone finally understanding they are about to die.

With the way Richter forced Drolta to bend, the ruby necklace came to rest directly over her neck. It was time to fullfill the promise Alucard made to Ruby and to himself.

The blade came down on Drolta’s neck.

A sanctified silver sword. The purple magic of a god. The red fire of a dhampir.

Nothing could withstand that.

The ruby stone was shattered to pieces.

Drolta’s thick skin offered no resistance.

And then – an explosion.

The three of them were sent flying back. The explosion was red; it had a strange cold feeling, it smelled of sulfur. Alucard had time to see an incredible amount of energy being released from the jewel when he broke it apart. The destruction of the ruby caused the explosion, which made Alucard realize in shock that that was never a regular necklace.

The explosion rumbled the entire city of Paris.

Then… silence.

Alucard got up with difficulty again. Richter too, a few meters away from him. Olrox’s dragon form floated above them. Drolta’s lifeless body stayed in the middle.

The air seemed lighter. The city was eerily quiet.

Alucard looked up.

The shadow that covered the sun… it was slowly disappearing.

It… it was over.

Alucard gripped the wound on his left shoulder. It still bled. Now, his whole body was in pain, but he still stood – because something else could unravel in front of him.

Richter and Olrox stood face to face. A giant winged greature and a Belmont. Richter’s whip was still ignited.

Alucard watched them with anxiety. He knew what had happened to Richter’s mother… and he also knew that neither him or Richter were in condition to fight anymore.

But Richter closed his eyes for a moment.

“...I will kill you, Olrox. One day.” Finally, the blue flames of his whip went out. “But not today.”

He opened his eyes.

They gave each other a last meaningful gaze before Olrox retreated in a shadow of pitch black smoke.

Alucard almost sighed in relief.

The red color of the sky was slowly being replaced by its original blue. The vampire closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself feel relief. He could hear the sounds of the city again… citizens realizing the eclipse was over… people walking on the streets…

Five years of searching for Sekhmet’s mummy, of planning a strategy against them, of finding ways to defeat their troops…

It was finally over.

Alucard opened his eyes once more. Richter was limping his way towards Annette. He saw Juste and Maria, many meters away from where they were, waking up. It’s a miracle that all of them ended up alive…

But he caught something with the corner of his eye – and it immediately made him freeze.

Alucard whipped his head towards Drolta’s body.

She was still laying there. Beheaded. No signs of life at all.

But the shadows below her were moving.

They were getting thicker. The shadows of the entire square seemed to be getting pulled towards Drolta’s body; they twirled under her like a whirpool of pitch black. Alucard gripped his sword. Richter took his whip again. Annette stumbled back. The temperature seemed to drop at least ten degrees.

The air smelled of coal and sulfur.

A black figure rose from within the shadows. It grinned down at Drolta; something that sounded like mocking laughter hovered in the air.

They watched in shock as the shadows engulfed Drolta’s body – and then, both of them were gone.

You were… confused.

You could hear and see. You knew there was something violent happening somewhere in the city; colorful explosions, shockwaves and earthquakes, thunders and the sounds of destruction. You could hear Henri’s and Charle’s nervous chatter somewhere beside you. And yet – it’s like you weren’t really there. As if your mind and body were disconnected somehow. As if… you couldn’t react to anything.

You felt strangely at peace.

You knew that the sky started to get clear at some point. You heard the boys celebrating behind you. But… you couldn’t really move from that spot on the balcony of the north bell tower. You didn’t want to stand up.

A familiar touch on your back.

“Ruby?”

You turned your head to the side slowly. That was… that was Alucard. Yes. Alucard. You knew him. He had knelt on the ground beside you.

“...Hello.” You heard a voice say from a distance… your voice. You said that.

Alucard had a worried expression in his face. His hair was gloriously disheveled, the strong winds at the top of Notre Dame played with it. The fair skin of his face was… dirty. He was all dirty, in fact.

You knew they were talking about you. “I… I think she’s not okay, Mr. Alucard,” Henri said in a hesitant and worried voice. “She’s not reacting to anything. It’s like she’s on some sort of trance,” Charles completed. Alucard placed his hand over your forehead – why was he doing that again? – his frown deepened. Heavens, he was so beautiful. So, so beautiful. Even with the disheveled hair and all the dirt. You coudn’t do anything but look at him; you didn’t bother when Alucard instructed the boys – “You should take care of the wound on your shoulder, son,” he told Henri. “There are nurses out there. Get medical aid. I’ll take care of her.”

You knew the two boys were walking out of the tower towards the stairs. A part of you wanted to stop them to properly say thank you, but your body didn’t want to move. So you just gazed at Alucard instead.

He held your arm softly. “Ruby, are you listening to me?” he asked in a worried voice.

His eyes widened in surprise when you touched his cheek.

“You’re hurt,” you heard your voice say from afar again.

If you were fully conscious, you’d never be brave enough to touch him like that. But it’s like you weren’t even there, so nothing felt real. You brushed some strands of hair away from his face and cupped his cheek delicately.

“You’re tired,” your voice said again. Your eyes dropped below – and for the first time, you noticed a gash in his jacket, right over his right shoulder… “You’re bleeding.”

Alucard rested his hand over yours, which made you look up again. He had a tiny smile on his lips, though his brows were still slightly furrowed. He gazed at you with… affection. It made your body feel warm on the inside. His hand was bigger than yours. Even through the leather glove, you could feel his warmth.

“I’ll heal anyway. Don’t worry about me.” You knew he was just light-heartedly repeating what you already told him over and over again. “Are you hurt?”

You frowned and looked down again.

“No. But I feel strange.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know. I’m… distant. And I’m tired.” You looked at him again. Alucard didn’t move to take your hand away from his face. His own still rested above yours, his thumb caressing your fingers slowly. “You’re hurt.”

“You already said that.” Alucard chuckled lightly before a bit of seriousness covered his expression once more. Finally, he wrapped his hand around yours and took it away from his face; he didn’t let go of it, however, resting both of them over your lap. He looked hesitant before speaking.

“Ruby… Drolta and Erzsebet are dead.”

You stared at him in silence for long seconds.

“Are… they?” Alucard nodded slowly. “Are you sure?”

Alucard hesitated for a second. You saw a glimpse of something you couldn’t understand cross his gaze.

But he nodded again in the end. “Yes. No mistakes this time.”

You lowered your head and… smiled.

Where did that smile come from? Why were you smiling in the first place? You had no idea.

Erzsebet and Drolta are dead.

The mere mention of their names made you feel… closer to your body, somehow. As if things were starting to get real again.

The sun was shining once more. You should’ve understood what that meant. The eclipse had vanished… and so had the Vampire Messiah.

Erzsebet and Drolta are dead. They are dead.

You didn’t know where the tears came from.

They came spontaneously, unannounced. You covered your mouth, trying to swallow a sob; your body was shaking. What were you crying for? Happiness? Relief? Sadness? Grief? Hatred? Pain? You had no idea. But you couldn’t stop, you didn’t know how. When was the last time you let yourself cry freely like that, without trying to be silent, without muffling any sob?

Drolta didn’t like the sound of you crying… so probably never.

But she was dead now.

Maybe if you were in your right mind, you wouldn’t have wrapped your arms around Alucard’s neck, embracing him in a tight hug. Maybe you wouldn’t have hid your face in his shoulder. No, you wouldn’t have the courage. But nothing felt much real at that moment, so you didn’t really care.

Alucard hugged you back immediately, offering no resistance, no hesitance. He kept you close, kept you tight. Tighter than your previous hug. Maybe if you were in your right mind, you would’ve shivered when he hid his face on your neck, too. Maybe your legs would’ve lost all of their strength when you felt his hot breath there, the touch of his soft cheek on your skin. All you could do was cry in a way you never did before.

At some point, you heard your voice stuttering a strangled thank you.

Alucard sighed deeply.

The morning sun kissed you both. The city down there was still in chaos – too many losses, too much damage, too many questions to be answered. You and him were still in he eye of the hurricane. But at that moment, nothing felt too real, so you didn’t care.

Nothing but him felt real. Him, and the fact that those who hurt you were gone from this world definitely. Him, his embrace and the way he warmed you up.

The voice of that unknown woman whispered in your ears once more – and, for some reason, it brought even more tears to your eyes.

...Love doesn’t burn.

Love warms up.

It was over.

[saintzweig]

I’m back. are you sick of me yet. anyway!! I’ve been OBSESSED with the idea of patrick studying law, like idk that just makes so much sense and with that I propose to you: patrick on the mock trial team, or speech and debate. all of the guys on the tennis team think he’s a fucking NERD for doing it, art thinks it’s cool tho! tashi is his go to for practicing his debates before tournaments and she purposely plays devils advocate to piss him off majorly. BUTT going back to u saying reader being a like.. journalism major and working for the campus newspaper, imagine her covering a speech and debate thing and seeing patrick and being like, hm fuckin nerd, but then she goes to a tennis match the next week (bc a friend of hers is like. obsessed with art or some other guy on the team) and then she realizes that guy on the speech and debate team is on the tennis team and he’s like, actually really hot. and then that night she’s at a frat party and she’s getting pulled into a bathroom by a hot as hell guy and, surprise surprise, it’s patrick again. he writes his phone number on some university promotional flier for speech and debate in bright blue pen (using art’s back as a table) and she dies right then and there (and every weekend after when his cock is in her mouth for “stress relief”) - ��

(I fear I need to come out of fanfic writing retirement.)

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONGG i thought about this hard with the very little juice left in my brain. not proofread bc its 3am ... might make the smut part a whole fic :")

you walked into the auditorium, a ‘stanford daily’ id hanging from your neck and a DSLR camera in your hands as you made your way through the sparse crowd to your assigned seat. you're in your third year of uni and elected co-editor in chief at the standford daily, so your job is mostly looking over the process and production of the weekly paper– this meant that you haven't been assigned to cover an event in a while given that you were the one assigning them. but the student who was supposed to cover this debate got sick, and no one else was available so you took it upon yourself to do the job. 

you were surprised to see tashi duncan and art donaldson a few rows in front of you, talking amongst themselves. they're well known on campus, being on the tennis team. you haven't seen or read anything about their life outside of the court, but why a debate event on a tuesday morning? were they that bored? or do they genuinely think that these events are entertaining? 

your unspoken questions were answered when the debate team was called to the stage, and there stood patrick zweig with a smug look on his face. you've never seen him in person before but he was a usual subject in the paper– being a reckless and easily agitated but damn good tennis player. now you're finding out that not only is he on the debate team, he is the captain. and a pre-law student? does this guy come from money or is he just a fucking nerd. 

you've always thought debates to be boring, even if you're a liberal arts student. but patrick zweig proved you wrong. it was mesmerizing to watch how smooth he was with his arguments, he knew the right words to say, the right points to make and the right buttons to push. he riled his opponents up but in a way that doesn't cross the line and break the rules. it was mesmerizing to watch him smirk, as if he found joy in proving others that they're wrong. you didn't even notice that you're on the edge of your seat, squeezing your thighs together. 

you brought the camera up to your face, squinting as you focused the lens on the members of the debate team. and as your camera pans over to patrick, he was already looking directly at you. smirking as he watched you falter for a moment before snapping the photo. you left in a rush as soon as the event ended, heart racing against your will. what the fuck was that? 

two weeks later, you find yourself being dragged by your best friend to a tennis game on campus. stanford versus pepperdine. the men's team are playing today and your best friend bribed you with food to get you to come with her and cheer art donaldson on. the first match started and it was a doubles, art and patrick versus two players from the opposing side. if the sight of patrick defeating his opponents in uniform got your heart racing, be prepared to see him do it in shorts. his thighs were godly and you couldn't take your eyes off it. 

you finally saw him play, seeing his personality on court that everyone was talking about. his serves were unusual but his backhands were fucking hypnotizing. the sounds of the ball being hit back and forth vibrating in your ears, your heart almost exploded when you heard how loud his grunts were as he plays. like before, you found yourself at the edge of your seat, squeezing your thighs together. 

during the break, patrick took the time to scan the crowd before his eyes landed on yours. your mouth gapes slightly open as you feel him stare into you, his lips parted and wrapped around the mouth of his water bottle, the liquid dripping down his chin. he wiped it away, sending you a wink. you don't think you've seen anyone this hot before. 

as if dragging you to a tennis game wasn't enough, you found yourself in a party at some random house that you (unwillingly) and your friend crashed. however, as soon as you walked in, she was taken out of your grasp into a bedroom by her situationship, leaving you to your own devices. you decided to grab a cup of the horribly sweet yet bitter punch in the kitchen before making your way through the house, dragging your fingertips against the wall and feeling the vibration of the music. 

you yelp as someone grasped at your arm and pulled you into the bathroom, the punch nearly spilling all over them. it was patrick, smirking down on you as he crossed his arms, flexing his biceps against the fabric of his polo shirt. “you're a journalist, right?” his voice was soft towards you, unlike the tone he used in the debate and unlike the rasp when he yelled victory during the game. 

you nod, a tinge of pink dusting your cheeks. he smiled at your appearance, you look so tiny next to him and the way you looked up at him, jesus. 

he grabbed a pen from his pocket, placing the cap between his lips as he pulled it off. he takes your arm, pants tightening as he took in the size difference of your arm against his. he chuckles lowly, scribbling his number on your arm. you only stared at him, the proximity making your core throb. “call me, yeah?” he smirks, patting your cheek gently with his large hand before exiting the bathroom. leaving you frozen and aching. 

[merakiui]

https://www.tumblr.com/merakiui/744520913494671360/azul-who-was-spoiled-as-a-child-so-he-believes?source=share

Mera are you not going to elaborate 👀 on how,,,, absolutely entitled tako would be with his not so subtle complex and also riddle who deserves this okay? This is all he's truly ever wanted and by golly he will see it through to the end! He can get through any trial or tribulation so long as he can put it in you

And ofc the tweels are soooooo sex brained that ur opinion doesnt even matter, they dont even have to justifying themselves bc there is no justifying- they want you? They got you!

ACTUALLY........ now that you say this, my thoughts can be expressed more succinctly!!!!!

(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, non-con, brief mention of slut-shaming, obsession, everyone is just really horrible here)

Azul's mother and stepfather who know their son could do no wrong, so they're shocked and appalled when you start accusing him of something so disgusting. How dare you accuse him of such a horrible crime! He would never! Your parent(s) sits down with the Ashengrottos to discuss and hopefully smooth things over. Azul is so sickeningly sweet and cordial throughout the entire thing while you look scared out of your skin. You insist he's lying, that you're telling the truth, that this is what happened. But then his stepfather threatens to take the matter to court. He knows the law. In the end, you're forced to drop it because your family can't afford a trial right now.

On your way out, Azul smiles at you. Even at twenty-something, he's still their spoiled brat. So entitled! Because he got everything he could ever want from his mother when he was a child, he automatically assumes he'll have you without any problems. But you just had to reject him in elementary. You just had to make a fool out of him in front of the class. It's your fault he couldn't have the one thing he's always wanted. But now he's so much better than his past self, and this time he's not taking no for an answer.

I think it would be a similar situation with Riddle. His mother refuses to believe her son could do any wrong, and the fact that you—some slut who shouldn't be near her Riddle to begin with—have the gall to throw around such wild accusations... You must have been raised so poorly to forgo basic manners and social etiquette. Riddle apologizes profusely for causing such trouble, but his story isn't the truth. You watch him lie to his mother's face and she believes him because he's Riddle Rosehearts, the paragon of pristine perfection. Of course if you and your parent(s) continue to press the matter, Mrs. Rosehearts will threaten to sue and when you're up against the Queendom of Roses's most renowned magical doctor with her prodigious son who could never do any wrong... Surely it's impossible from the start.

Riddle does feel bad. Somewhat. Deep down he knows it's wrong, but he's never had anything special before. Everything has always been chosen for him. He's never had friends. He's never had any hobbies. He's never had a life. And when he saw how radiantly you would shine while passing through campus with your group of friends, he just had to have you. You're like those forbidden strawberry tarts from his youth. He knows it's bad, but he can't help wanting to indulge even if it breaks rules. He's been so good. Surely he's allowed one treat! If it makes you feel any better, he was just as anxious as you were when he mixed that stuff into your drink.

And the twins... oh, the twins. >_< terrible. Their mother babies them incessantly. In canon, it's noted that she tends to call them frequently (nearly every day) because she worries. So she absolutely spoils them rotten. Those are her babies; of course she will! Papa Leech is just as adoring, I'm certain, but then I feel like his love is more of a "tough love" type. In any case, the twins won't accept the word no because they're so used to just getting things. Those sturgeon scales they proudly wear? Those were won through a fight. They want and then they take. It's simple.

So the fact that you'd tell either of them no... Unheard of. All of Floyd's smiley pretenses drop when you reject him. Jade can keep up his own placidity, if only to give you another chance so that you won't whine about how unfair it was in the aftermath: "Would you like to think more carefully about your decision?"

Whatever happens, you can't say or do anything. No one's going to speak ill against the Leech family. They can't. That's just how it is.

[teatitty]

hiiiii me again :3

this week on Alder Has Too Many Thoughts Over Sparbossa: that fae!Jack x vampire!Barbossa au you have >:3

So I was scrolling through what the fae were all about because I’m not very proficient with knowledge on them and found a few things that made this au very funny/interesting and decided to ramble to you :3

there’s a rule to not “get romantic” (or sexual, I presume) with the fae. good job Barbossa truly doing outstanding work here lmaoooo 👏

“don’t reveal your “true” name” — I dunno what the “true” name means/what that entails but this made me remember Jack is the only one to call Barbossa by his first name…hrmmmm interesante 👀

and if we wanna get briefly dmtnt about it, “don’t mention you have kids.” a success! for quite a few years! until Carina barges into their lives that is and Barbossa can’t hide it any more eheheh (it’s OUR kid now *insert bugs bunny meme here*)

Barbossa I think you need to read a book on the fae Jack seems to be getting the upper hand here LMAO at least give yourself a fighting chance XD

anywho done yapping now ty for the au I enjoy the crumbs I find on your blog :3

Buddy I'm an expert on fae lore so lemme correct some stuff here - you can absolutely tell the fae you have kids, the problem is when you bargain with them using the kids as chips. IE "I'll do X thing if you give me your firstborn" bc the fae will ALWAYS COME TO COLLECT and there's nothing you can do to stop them. Yes you can pursue them romantically and sexually the problem is when you cheat on them or break up with them bc they hold grudges like nobody's fucking business, but given Jack's own proclivities this wouldn't be an issue for them

Barbossa's betrayal of him however would hit a lot harder bc the fae do NOT take that stuff lightly. Scorning a fae is one of the worst things you could do which is why Barbossa is lucky he's a vampire in this AU so he can actually fucking stand up against Jack and survive the fallout lol

As for Carina I don't use anything past AWE as canon to my stuff bc I hate those shitty sequels to death so she doesn't exist to me sorry. The crew are their kids though and they have the worst shared custody agreement possible. This is why they both accept the crew back with minimal fuss even when said crew starts picking sides [Pintel and Ragetti w Barbossa and Gibbs w Jack]

A true name is just the name most personal to you. When introducing yourself to a fae or vice versa you don't want to give you real name because then they hold power over you, so you give an alias or a nickname or something instead. The implication here is that Jack is the only one who has ever "possessed" Barbossa's real name [Hector] hence why nobody else uses it: they physically can't because Jack owns it :3

But this doesn't mean Barbossa doesn't rock Jack's shit too! See the fae are all about hospitality rules and paying back their debts. Mischevious though they might be they aren't all bad - like humans you have benevolent fae, malevolent fae and then neutrals. Jack is chaotic neutral: he's a law unto himself and while he doesn't possess any strong magicks he does have incredible charisma and charm which gets him through most things. Until Barbossa that is. The moment you invite a vampire into your abode, they take power from you

The Black Pearl was Jack's abode. His domain, his home, his very being. Barbossa wasn't just invited inside of it he was hired to stay. And the longer a vampire stays somewhere the more power and sway they accumulate, which is why the Pearl can be taken from Jack now and why Barbossa can be stuck in an eternal struggle with him. Vampire lore is ever changing depending on what folklore you're pulling from, but for Barbossa it's pretty simple: no sickness or aging, but he could die from mortal wounds. His monkey is his familiar [so it's bound to him] and while he does need blood to survive he can go for a long while without it if he's on the Pearl itself - wine, he's found, is a good substitute and he still enjoys regular human foods

Jack owns Barbossa's real name but Barbossa owns part of Jack's soul. In this AU that's why he was the only one who could track Jack in Davy's locker: Jack is bound to him and so Barbossa can forever track wherever he is no matter how far apart they are. The closer they get the warmer the feeling basically, like an in-built compass that only points to Jack lol. Vampires are also petty and hold grudges you don't really wanna fuck with either of them

[patrocles]

i started hotd but had to stop when criston Beat A Gay Man to Death and then just stuck around making snide comments about rhae i got so confused with the fandom shipping him with alicent did i miss something?? im sorry im not in the fandom i just Dont Understand why people like criston in any way that scene was so upsetting and homophobic

(I'm going to use this opportunity to yap a lot about Criston and Alicent, a lot of this is just things i've been mulling over, I'm not shouting down at you specifically, anon. i absolutely understand wanting to stop the show, or any show that makes you uncomfortable)

So I think a lot of nuance is being purposefully removed when people talk about Criston. And I do think the writing of s1 is to blame cus it is super spotty in a lot of places especially in regards to characterization cus it was just rapid-fire pacing. And a similar argument could also be made for how people talk about Alicent.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m absolutely not saying anyone has to like Criston (or any character) and I’m definitely not saying that Criston isn’t flawed. (In fact, the opposite— that his flaws are exactly what make him a compelling character)

I mean hell, Daemon killed his wife, treats Rhaena like shit, and groomed Rhaenyra, but no one really questions how or why people enjoy him as a character.

But Alicent and Criston DO have a complex and interesting relationship. And I think there's definitely something to be said about how people talk about them specifically compared to the other Targaryen characters. People who hate Alicent like to reduce her whole character down to her being petty and jealous of Rhaenyra for having "good sex", hypocritical, "white feminist", slept with Nyra's dad so she's a scheming bitch the whole time. Very much removing context and simplifying her down to nothing.

A similar thing can be said for how people talk about Criston. It's very easy to reduce him to just this petty incel lunatic, which feels unfair. Especially when Targaryen characters specifically are given miles of deference and nuance, despite their flaws like Aegon for example.

Going back to the writing, I think what got lost in show translation surrounding him killing Joffrey was circumstances surrounding Criston at the time— again, please don’t think I’m excusing it, I just think context matters— is how serious these characters (particularly Alicent and Criston) believe in the world that they're in. And it's not something that's truly emphasized in the writing.

It's not that Alicent is just jealous of Rhaenyra for "having a good sex life", but she truly believes that Rhaenyra is breaking laws that have existed for everyone else forever. (Having bastards is against the law, bastards inheriting IS against the law, putting a bastard on the throne would be super duper against the law). But what broke their friendship was that Rhaenyra lied about something serious, something Alicent would have protected and defended her over, and that cost her her father, the 1 person who was on her side in some small way. Subsequently, she became untrustworthy to Alicent.

And finally she snaps at Driftmark after years of being gaslit and essentially told that the rules that she's always had to abide by (bc it's the rules everyone else has to abide by) (and the rules that got her pimped out to a leper king and forced to have kids he wouldn't even care about), doesn't apply to Rhaenyra and the final straw is being told that the physical well being of her son doesn't matter as much as the hurt feelings of Rhaenyra's.

Circling back, Criston was fully expecting to die after he told Alicent what happened with Rhaenyra because because he broke his oaths and it's punishable by death— and he knows this has been enforced before. He was crumbling, mentally, believing that everything he worked for is gone only to then have his shame indirectly blackmailed/threatened by some guy he doesn't even know. And he snaps with the intent to commit suicide after. But it wasn't an attack out of homophobia, though. It would have happened regardless of who it was, it just happened to be Joffrey.

Why people like Alicent and Criston because they very much are a unit of non-Targaryens existing within the Targaryen family and will always be considered outsiders. (Criston especially is a racial minority within the world, being part Dornish, and who are not looked at favorably by the rest of the country). They've both tried to be a part of this family as best they can, been used by them. (There's definitely a case to be made, whether people like it or not, about the dubious consent surrounding Rhaenyra using her power to get Criston to sleep with her and whether or not he even had the power to refuse her. And part of what breaks him is knowing the 1 thing he had, his honor, was thrown away for something that didn't matter to Rhaenyra at all, even if she knew the consequences for him too.)

Criston is Alicent's person that's kind of just all hers, which matters a great deal to her after nearly a lifetime of never really having anyone that's on her side, exclusively, and hasn't tried to exploit her for their own personal gain. He's sworn to her and likewise, Alicent gives Criston renewed purpose in life. Even if we don't see it, we can absolutely infer that he stepped in with her children when they were being neglected by Viserys. He's probably the 1 person that Alicent has come to trust completely when it became very evident that she had no one else. In Alicent, Criston has found a sort of salvation, and there's this religious idealization of her. They're basically coworkers and kinda best friends and also kinda co-parents.

But that doesn't necessarily mean that he's her attack dog at the ready, as some people have claimed; the 1 time we to see her actually instruct him to do violence (take Luke's eye), he refuses and he goes to stop her from hurting Rhaenyra before being stopped by Daemon.

So what I mean by all this, is that I genuinely think there are a lot of complex things at work with Criston and his relationship with Alicent. That's not at all to say that you have to ship them and I understand why some people don't. I think it's a bit reductive to say that he's just this violent animal with nothing else interesting to think about.

In summary:

[nonuggetshere]

I loved reading all of that. It's so funny how PK's sibs, and at points his dame, tease him. I love it so much 😆

It also got me thinking.

Would it be possible, in another AU (maybe like wayward royals or somewhere waaaaayyy down in FAaF), for Flower them to run into WLs Father. Or, maybe Flower gets separated and meets him by accident. Would he realize their kin or just see him as a territorial threat?

THANK YOU it's one of my favourites, writing family dynamics is so entertaining

AND FUNNY YOU MENTION THAT because I actually have an AU where they meet both of their grandparents! But first, some info about Quercus, then more info about the AU itself

This is gonna get super rambly bc I'm copy-pasting mine and Integrity's messages from discord

His name is Quercus and he is old as balls

He had Amanita when he was very very old too and these two were particularly close because she was the only surviving seedling. She's never seen his persona face to face but they talked a lot and he took great care of her (I think I already mentioned how roots grow up and how he's like with his children)

The kingdom he resides in is quite literally built around, on and into his giant ancient root body. He hasn't fully abandoned his former form like his daughter had and resides in a sort of in-between, which roots can do. His smaller form is connected to his body and is more residual from ages long past when he used to properly rule the kingdom. Now he's retreated from this role and many of the kingdom's peoples don't even realise that the higher being whose body they live in is still alive

He keeps his body beneath the ground, in a chamber he dug amongst his roots, where he mostly resides in and feeds on any poor schmuck that decides to venture into (and get lost in) the twisting, long tunnels amongst his roots

It's been a long time since he's communicated with anyone face to face, which he doesn't mind, roots aren't particularly social and are quite literally built to remain stationary with very little outside stimuli for a very long time

A mortal would have probably go insane if they spent their human lifespan's equivalent in isolation like he did but he's quite literally built different

And when I say ancient I mean ANCIENT

When he had Amanita he probably would be like the human equivalent of a 110 year old

But roots don't die of old age and he's strong and healthy so he's still kicking

The few AUs where he and Adamas meet they do NOT get along its actually so funny

Worsties in law

SO THE AU

I've mentioned that higher beings in my AU have the ability to sense who is their kin and it's especially strong in rootfolk, it's needed considering how they reproduce to avoid inbreeding

LONG story short, Flower needed a fucking break from Everything, ended up getting lost, ended up chancing upon their grandma and almost got their ass beaten by her before she realised they're her kin, after they left she had a bad feeling and decided to follow to keep an eye on them, they arrived at their grandfather's former kingdom and decided hey checking out these tunnels that supposedly nobody came out of alive would be a good idea, Adamas obviously sensed this ancient god in there and followed to keep Flower's dumb ass safe, bullshit ensues when she interrupts him excitedly introducing himself to the first grandkid he's ever met and asking about his daughter

And the two get into a massive argument. Because it just didn't occur to them that their children could EVER end up together

And Flower can't get a word in to explain

Adamas might not be a god but she's so willing to square up against one about this, Flower is HER kin so you can go fuck yourself you overgrown carrot

Flower: Fucking hell, now I get why my parents are Like That

Quercus: they’re clearly a root!

Adamas: they’re clearly a wyrm!

Flower: I—

Adamas: where’s their vines and roots and flowers than Hm? You’ve gone mad in old age

Flower: hey guys—

Quercus: Bold words from a mortal

Adamas: I might not be a god but I still don't mind kicking the ass of one!

Flower: OKAY! Alright! Enough fighting! Here's a wild idea; I am both of yours grandchild

Quercus: ...No

Adamas: Impossible

Quercus: Why would any of my children lower their standards so much as to take something as beastly as a wyrm for a partner?

Adamas, bristling: What could a root even provide for any of my clutches, besides sustenance after ripping into one? You're all soft, lazy pushovers

Flower: Fucking hell–

Flower: what if I ditched you both and left. What then. What if just leave

They just. Ditch their grandparents but of course Adamas goes to hunt them down

Adamas: Didn't your sire and dame teach you it's rude to sneak away like that?

Flower: I didn't sneak away, I even said goodbye, you were just too preoccupied with tour squabbles. Why do you keep following me anyways?

Adamas: It's not often I get to meet my grandchildren, let alone one's so careless or stupid enough to not only wander into another wyrm's densite but to also march into an ancient, hungry God's open maw. Somebody has to teach you self preservation because clearly whichever of my children had you failed at that

Flower: Oh, joy...

Adamas: …which one was it anyways?

Flower, who doesn’t even know PK or WL’s name: ….. the pale short one?

Adamas, also pale and kind of short: .......Do you have any idea how little that narrows it down?

Adamas, starting to list names:

Flower: I don’t know his name

Adamas: ??????????

Adamas: Are you serious?

Flower: ...Does the Pale King of Hallownest ring a bell?

Adamas: You only know him by his title?

Flower: It's a long story, don't dodge the question

Adamas: I suppose I've heard of him, wyrm kingdoms aren't that common nowadays- isn't he a god? One of my children is an actual god?

Flower: Wh- how did you hear of him but never realised he was your son? You have no right to judge me holy shit

Adamas: So it's decided, I'm going back to Hallownest with you and beating your parent's ass

Flower: HUH WHAT

Adamas: Fucker can't teach you how to take care of yourself and makes you use their title, I'm setting their ass straight if that's the last thing I do

Flower: WHO'S DECIDING THIS WE DIDN'T DECIDE SHIT I DO NOT AGREE TO THIS

SORRY GOT OFF TOPIC

Point is, Quercus would recognise Flower (and any other grandkid) and would ADORE them, especially if he knew they came from his little princess. But PK and his part of the family? Yeah uh. The old man does Not like nor approve of them

I think the only thing Adamas and Quercus would agree on is that Flower's parents kind of suck

Especially if they find out about the whole vessel thing

[waterloggedsoliloquy]

see i take "doomed by the narrative" to mean a character who is doomed (either dead or stagnant with no hope of any trajectory) by the narrative (the nature of the work existing as a story puts unique pressure/limitations on the characters through the medium of choice, where the fact that its a story with a weaker fourth wall is a deliberate choice). Doomed by the narrative meaning the constraints of narrative/genre/medium actively prevent the character from getting out of a cul de sac, and the character pushing against this metatextual boundary is part of the conflict and futility of the exercize. but i see "doomed by the narrative" applied to characters who dont die, break free from their constraints, or go stagnant at all, let alone in metatextual fashions.

what i mean is like. truman and utena are doomed by the narrative in the sense that the narrative is an oppressive force that has put them in a lose-lose situation, no matter how much they object, and the only move left for them is to exit their respective stories. the only things left for them in the narrative are death, or playing by the rules and stagnating. so they bring the curtain down. this is also the intended functions of the truman show and of RGU, to deliberately invoke the fact that the world is a closed narrative and not let you-- the viewer-- forget it, in order to make a point, or a lot of points. The Truman Show and RGU categorically can't be interacted with an audience looking for an experience where they can be sufficiently immersed into a story that they don't need to think about it as something someone else made. (Tangentially, i feel like a lot of shallow criticisms of virtually anything could be remedied by reminding them that the works they complain about were created on purpose by real living people and did not spring fully flawed out of the void.) Thats not to say that kind of story or audience is wrong-- there are countless stories that work better without the looming reminder of fictionalization hanging over someone's head. But it's just-- ugh, you get me. onto another example.

Antigone is doomed by the narrative because the complicated poetry of her small world is of the understanding that this is a tragedy, and the hero of a tragedy must die, no matter how much they try to fight it. The laws of her world are defined entirely amd immutably by the genre it takes place in. The characters implicutly know this. The best thing she can do is die on her own terms. No matter how many times the play is put on, the end result is the same. The characters of the world of OFF are doomed by the narrative because OFF is painfully aware that it is a video game, and many of the characters know it, or at least they know there is a higher power watching it spool out. And if you are an adversary in an RPG standing between the protagonist and his progression, there is only one end for you, and its your HP reaching zero. Finishing OFF means finishing them off. The game has multiple endings but to even get to the end you gotta kill basically everyone. By then its too late. There is not a circumstance where these characters survive bc the rule of the medium does not permit it. This is the category of fridged women.

As for stagnation this is for characters that are by edict of the limits of the narrative are neither permitted to die nor improve their situation nor even leave. They have reached a point of no return. This may or may not be their fault. I think this is a pretty rare character type. Creon also from antigone goes here. Zacharie, also from OFF. Any protagonist of an abandoned webcomic lol. WD Gaster.

i just feel like if ur gonna talk abt a character who is doomed u better actually mean a character who, no matter how many times you reroll the dice, is going to be irreparably fucked. And if its at the hands of a narrative you better mean its at the hands of the narrative, and that its part of the point, an active pressure and limiter.

[catvampire]

i saw your reblog of the Matt gifset and what do you mean by "they ruined both of you for this arc?" I get that they made Barnes more despicable in cm compared to cmbb but what about Matt? Is it that the lack of references to his time in the IRT or his reduced role in the Barnes storyline despite their established history in favor of JJ or something else?

it's two different issues, it was just funnier to say that

my bigger issue is barnes, who was absolutely stripped of any and all actual characteristics she had, including but not limited to her positive sides. and god, you can see kim try to do interesting, non-obvious choices, like the few times where she plays some lines like she might just genuinely confused about the hostility and is trying to understand the team better on some level. they took away not just the nuance in her, but also just the most basic fucking things about her, down to using chess metaphors when she specifically says that she "likes boxing" when asked about her aptitude in understanding internal politics as chess. she even got an even shorter haircut than in cmbb, just so we all know she's an Evil Woman.

as for matt. they actually brought in something from the IRT. they actually had something tying to the other show. they could've actually displayed the emotional impact that barnes on matt, allowed for a character episode that ties into something other than family, and expands on the circumstances that led to him transferring. the set-up had SO MUCH POTENTIAL. in blowback, barnes tried to hammer the IRT down when she had every reason to think they were at fault, but eventually took a risk and arrested someone while knowing full well she would make waves and would need to quiet down some details as soon as the evidence was on the IRT's side. in the finale, she pushes for the rules hard, very clearly emotionally distancing herself in the situation bc there's just nothing that be done until jack's wife gets through her and she tells IRT to break the law to get ryan. and after that, presumably they got caught anyway and the unit is disbanded. that's twice she's been an antagonist, twice that she's been the key to saving the day; once fully by the book (if mismanaged by her temper and desire to get things Done over doing things with care), and once by breaking it, which turned out for the worst.

so here we have matt, whom i see as "compassion within the rules" and needs extreme circumstances to blatantly break from that, against barnes, who is "rules regardless of compassion (so make the compassion fit within the rules or help you god)". the bau has had a string of extremely risky behaviour, some acts that absolutely err on the side of wrong from a bureaucratic perspective, and after multiple already concerning events that have included the team, an agent finally died. it is the perfect storm to introduce her to, matt being the perfect opponent and the reason to care about and fear barnes.

so how in the fuck do you manage to not make matt the main character in the ensemble for a single episode during the entire four episode arc.

HOW DO YOU WRITE A THIRD OF THE SEASON TO REVOLVE AROUND THIS AND AT EVERY POINT, THE MOST OF WHAT WE KNOW ABOUT ITS IMPACT ON MATT IS THROUGH REACTION SHOTS SHARED WITH OTHER PEOPLE

HOW IS MATT A MARGIN MENTION IN AN ARC ABOUT HIS OWN ANTAGONIST. WHY IS IT SPENCER THAT COMPELS EMILY TO STAY AND NOT MATT, WITH WHOM EMILY ALREADY HAD A PRE-BAU DYNAMIC WITH AND WHO OF ALL PEOPLE SHOULD BE THE ONE GOING "I KNOW WHAT'S AT STAKE, AND YOU SHOULD STILL STAY."

anyway tl:dr; barnes being ruined was about her character, matt about the writing of the episodes

[waytootiredforthistoo]

I've listened to When I Forgive You by Sasha Allen at least 30 times today and I just,,,,

I've been waiting for this song to come out for Years now, and I cannot believe it's finally here

I can't stop thinking about:

that little voicemail from his grandma?

the little break in his voice at 'violence' in the last chorus??

the line 'she could have turned away and simply washed her hands of it' right after describing his grandma as 'a catholic through and through' bc I am such a sucker for a religious allusion done right, and fuck is that done right.

Extended discussion of the religious allusion below the cut

The expression to 'wash your hands' of something (meaning to abandon, to refuse to accept responsibility for) is one of those that has been around and secularized enough that I feel the need to explicitly point out its origin to anyone who didn't grow up in church every week.

It comes from the end of Matthew, Matthew 27:24 specifically (see NIV translation below)

When Pilate saw that he was getting nowhere, but that instead an uproar was starting, he took water and washed his hands in front of the crowd. “I am innocent of this man’s blood,” he said. “It is your responsibility!”

This is the moments Jesus is released to be put to death. Specifically what is happening here is that the crowd has turned against Jesus, almost on a dime (on thirty silver pieces if you think you've got jokes). Narratively, this comes 6 chapters, 5 days, after Palm Sunday, where everyone is praising Jesus in the streets, calling him titles, giving him gifts, loving him.

The local powers, local priests, didn't like the messages of love and acceptance he preached. Didn't like the way he supported the needy without judgement and rebuked those who hoarded wealth, who misused the power of the church. So they got people up in arms about the whole thing and nothing at all, stoked a fire, formed a crowd to arrest him and have him put to death.

This is where Pilate comes in. Technically, Israel was under Roman rule at the time. The Jews were allowed to practice their local laws and customs, but only to a certain extent, and one of those extents was the death penalty. If the Jews wanted to put someone to death, they had to get approval from the local Roman authority, Pilate.

So the crowd brings forth Jesus, says they want him dead, and in Matthew 27:11-26 we can see Pilate going back and forth with the crowd, not understanding why they want him dead all of the sudden. He brings up the fact that just days ago they were calling him "king of the Jews" calling him "Messiah," and now they want him dead. He offers another murderer who was supposed to be put to death in Jesus's stead as if it's just a bloodlust they need satisfied. None of it works.

He sees that it isn't going anywhere, so he physically washes his hands to symbolically wash Jesus's blood off of them, turns Jesus over to the crowd, and tells them even though he believes Jesus is innocent, they can do what they want with him.

THIS is what Sasha is invoking in the line when he says "she could have turned away and simply washed her hands of it." We know because he positions it immediately after a line about how religiously devote his grandmother is. How aware she is of the origin of this expression, this idea.

He's saying there's precedent. He's saying the Bible is meant to be a life guide for Christians, and she would only be following it to abandon him, innocent as he is, to the crowd who turns to hate him on a whim, who changes their views not because of anything he's done but because his existence threatens the political powers that be.

He positions his grandmother as Pilate, as an outsider who doesn't really understand what's going on, as someone who can see that what is happening is wrong, but also someone that no one would really blame for just turning around and doing nothing.

He talks about how his grandmother re-writes that ancient narrative. This is a story we've all heard before. We know how it ends. Except it doesn't. It doesn't end there for Jesus if you believe in his resurrection, and we know it doesn't end there for Sasha. He says as much in the chorus in the line "All your violence, all your venom won't come close to getting rid of me"

Because that's the truth of it. Nothing anyone can ever do will get rid of trans people. Trans people have been here since the beginning of humanity, and no hatred will ever erase them, and this time, this trans person has a grandmother to stand with him. To refuse to wash her hands of it. To tell everyone "how great her grandson is."

Anyways,, I could talk about this song all day, but everyone should go listen to it. It's up on Spotify now and it's brilliant

[bestworstcase]

on ‘villainy’ and varian’s and cassandra’s moral codes

for all that varian’s and cassandra’s villain arcs get compared to death they’re really more different than they are similar, and i think one of the more interesting distinctions is the characters’ moral perspectives on their own actions--namely that varian recognizes his own choices as villainous and consciously self-identifies as a ‘bad guy’ and cassandra not only…doesn’t do that but appears legitimately taken aback when varian says she’s ‘become the villain.’ from this we can infer that varian is transgressing his own personal sense of right and wrong while cassandra isn’t.

and… well with varian i think it’s pretty straightforward: he’s a kid who desperately wants to make the world a better place and make his father proud, but his impulsivity and recklessness and general disregard for lab safety foil his plans and get him into trouble. then one of his accidents puts his dad into what is essentially a magical coma and varian becomes singularly focused on reviving him--and, when he realizes that the king is more invested in covering up the problem than fixing it and his only hope lies with a zealously guarded relic belonging to the kingdom, he decides that the only way to achieve this goal is to start breaking the rules.

so he asks rapunzel--his friend who promised to help him--to retrieve some information the king is trying to steal from him, and then persuades her to help him access the sundrop vault; then when she balks at stealing it he makes it clear that he no longer trusts her and escapes with the flower. at this point he’s in the morally dubious zone; being strategic about what he tells rapunzel to make sure she helps him, spiking cookies with truth serum to sow chaos and get information he needs, and doing things that are crimes on paper but also largely victimless. i think these were things varian could probably rationalize as okay--not exactly good, but no one got hurt and he got what he needed.

except the flower’s magic is gone. he drugged the palace, manipulated rapunzel and broke her trust in him, and committed treason all for something useless because the actual magic of the sundrop is in rapunzel herself. now he’s in trouble, because he needs rapunzel’s help but his desperate measures guaranteed she won’t be willing to help him again. and this is when varian realizes that his only options are 1. give up on saving his dad and turn himself in and hope rapunzel takes pity on him, or 2. accept that no one is going to help him now and do whatever it takes to free quirin himself.

so--mutating ruddiger, attacking the city, kidnapping arianna and threatening her with encasement in amber, building an automaton army to defend him while he works--these are all things that varian feels are wrong, but chooses to do anyway because he doesn’t trust that anyone else will even try to save his father. despite his anger and his rationalizations, at the end of the day varian sees himself as doing bad things for good reasons. (“Believe me, I know/I’ve sunk pretty low” & “I’m the bad guy, that’s fine”)

and when his reasons fall through--when he fails to free his dad--he falls quickly into guilt and despair over having hurt people for nothing. he stews for a year in how unforgivable and ashamed he feels, and even when he teams up with the separatists, he’s doing it in, basically, pursuit of a reset button: he wants to take back what he did. and when rapunzel shows him that he can be forgiven, he can have a second chance, he does have people who are willing to help him and trust him again, he drops the memory-wiping idea and his alliance with the separatists without a second thought--because what rapunzel actually does is give him a way to pursue his goals without sacrificing his conscience, which is what he really needed the whole time.

now, cassandra, on the other hand…

cass is an interesting character in this regard because, while she does want to be a hero, she’s not at all altruistic. she’s consumed by her lack of autonomy and she craves not only control over her own life but also respect from the people around her--her desire to be a hero is very self-interested, at its core. and moreover she has a somewhat fatalistic view of the world wherein some people (not her) matter and some… just don’t. 

moreover cassandra, despite her ambitions of becoming a guard, doesn’t so much as blink at eugene’s or the pub thugs’ criminal pasts--she is suspicious of lance at first, but on the grounds that he’s an unrepentant thief who showed up out of the blue under suspicious circumstances to ‘reconnect’ with his old partner in crime; eugene is also distrustful of lance, for the exact same reasons--and of course she doesn’t think twice about breaking the law herself. literally one of the very first things we see cassandra do is commit treason to make her friend happy. cass doesn’t care about the law, and she only wants to be a guard because she associates getting the job with having her dad’s approval and it’s also her ticket out of lifelong servitude.

on the other hand, cass does seem have a strong sense of right and wrong where people she cares about are concerned. she is constantly putting the desires and well-being of her friends ahead of not just her ambitions (e.g. in beginnings for rapunzel, or great expotations for varian) but also her own safety (e.g. risking her livelihood and home to sneak rapunzel out for the night in bea, or setting aside her misgivings about the sketchy bird people in freebird). 

which is all to say--cass isn’t exactly amoral but the moral framework through which she sees the world is… more complicated than varian’s. she doesn’t seem particularly motivated to help strangers but she’ll move mountains to help people she cares about; she doesn’t care much about rules or laws except insofar as she doesn’t want to get caught breaking them, and she has this hierarchical mindset that some people matter--meaning, they get to make decisions for themselves and have people care about what they need and want--and some don’t, and that she herself is stuck in the latter category despite her best efforts to climb out of it.

which brings us to the subject of the moonstone, and cassandra’s villain arc, and why cass, unlike varian, doesn’t consider herself a bad person.

i think what it comes down to most is this: taking the moonstone is an act of defiance against not only rapunzel but also fate itself. waiting in the wings sets up cassandra’s resigned acceptance of this hierarchical order and her own cosmic insignificance, and then in crossing the line she REJECTS that same order. she’s raging against rapunzel but also against the cultural and legal and destined systems that put rapunzel on top and forced cass into subservience. she is very literally fighting for her freedom against the universe itself.

and when cass was not an altruistic or heavily morally motivated or even particularly law-abiding person before, and when her conscience has always been predominantly oriented around taking care of her friends first and herself second, and when the thing that drove her to this breaking point was her friends spitting that back in her face… well.

it’s easy to say “cass literally tried to murder rapunzel a bunch of times, how can she possibly believe she’s the good guy?”--but rapunzel maimed cass, blamed her for it, and consistently prioritized her destiny over cassandra’s wellbeing; and rapunzel represents the cosmic order that cass is fighting to liberate herself from. and while i know that the -popular- take on be very afraid is “cass is terrified of hurting rapunzel,” i submit it’s actually “cass is terrified of having to fight rapunzel, because she still believes that fate is literally tilted in rapunzel’s favor and she can’t win a direct fight with rapunzel.” that’s why she’s so scared; that’s why rapunzel seemingly deleting the red rocks hardens her resolve; that’s why she marches into corona with maximum drama and bluster and builds a fortress and tries so hard to mess with rapunzel’s head before the battle begins. she’s trying to even the odds. and that’s why, when rapunzel stomps her into the curb, cassandra’s immediate response is “i need an army.”

cassandra isn’t scared for rapunzel. she is scared OF rapunzel.

we do also see cass trying not to harm people she considers to be innocent bystanders; she uses the truth serum on varian bc she needs the incantation, but afterwards she doesn’t even bother to restrain him until after he starts pestering her, she says flat out that she doesn’t want him to get hurt when she fights rapunzel; similarly she is willing to hurt calliope to force rapunzel to comply, but--despite her deep personal dislike of calliope--uses a minimum amount of force and again verbally expresses that she doesn’t particularly want to hurt her, that it’s a means to an end and nothing more. attacking rapunzel? that’s fine, rapunzel is her enemy. attacking eugene? of course, he’s rapunzel’s closest ally. mind controlling the brotherhood? that kills two birds with one stone--eliminating powerful enemies with a vested interest in taking the moonstone away from her and turning them into allies who can level the playing field between her and rapunzel. and when she does finally snap and raze corona to the ground? the people of corona attacked her first. i think cass ABSOLUTELY sees herself as fighting a purely defensive war against people who have or will hurt her.

and this is, of course, ultimately why varian failed to get through to her during ‘nothing left to lose’--he appealed to her sense of morality and her sense of morality shrugged. 

as for the thing that snaps her out of it? the moment that forces her to question whether she’s really as right as she thinks she is? it’s learning who her new friend really is. it’s the shock of finding out that she’s been allied with, confiding in, taking advice from a legendary villain, from a monster she likely grew up hearing stories about. cass takes it as a given that zhan tiri is evil--and if she’s friends with zhan tiri, what does that make her? and even then, cass is resistant to the idea that she might be a villain--“No, no, I’m nothing like you. Just because I’m pursuing my destiny doesn’t make me a bad person!”--which is, ultimately, very telling of her whole mindset. she’s not a bad guy, she’s fighting for her freedom. she’s not a bad guy, she’s protecting herself against people who want to exploit her. she’s not a bad guy, she’s just putting herself first for once.

and OAH generally, i’d argue, is not actually about cassandra trying to reconcile with rapunzel or redeem herself or be a better person, it’s… literally cass trying frantically to prove she’s NOT the bad guy. it’s “oh yeah? you think i’m a bad person? well could a bad guy do THIS? *lies and impersonates a former coworker and gets up on a stage to justify her own actions in front of a crowd*” it’s “a bad guy wouldn’t apologize, rapunzel never apologized for anything, and to prove i’m a better person I’M going to apologize! see? SEE!?”--and then everyone in corona attacks her and she goes “FINE, i’m the bad guy, fuck you all” and wrecks the place.

only then--only in plus est en vous--does cassandra get into a mindset similar to varian’s, of “i am the bad guy but if i can pull this off it will be worth it.” she’s not sorry. she still sees rapunzel as an enemy trying to get her under control again, and the only thing that’s really changed is cassandra acknowledging that she has in fact done bad things too.

and… i would argue that by the end of plus est cassandra… feels some guilt but isn’t sorry. “i’ve failed” and “i’ve done terrible things” and “i tried to prove i was more than everyone thought but they were right”--her anguish is not like varian’s anguish in RR, where he was consumed with despair because no one could possibly forgive him for the things he did. cassandra is upset because she did awful things and failed and she perceives that failure as proof of her own worthlessness. she’s right back to feeling how she felt in waiting in the wings but with a hefty new helping of self-disgust and shame for having been stupid enough to believe she could change anything for herself. 

she’s not sorry. she’s not pleading for forgiveness. she just wants rapunzel to give up and leave her alone--& then, after rapunzel convinces her that she’s wrong, and she does have worth as a person, and she does have a destiny of her own, cass does what’s necessary to clean up the crisis she created and then… just bounces. she gets the freedom she wanted and leaves without a backward glance.

(which. good for her.)

tl;dr: varian’s villain arc explores his moral scruples and what it takes for him to be willing to ignore them, whereas cassandra’s villain arc explores her incendiary reaction to a lifetime of injustices; she isn’t amoral but her sense of right and wrong is, unlike varian’s, very contextual and personal. varian is a pragmatic idealist who wants to be lawful good but is capable of setting his own morals aside in pursuit of a goal he considers to be important enough, and cassandra is one radicalizing incident away from realizing that her grievances are not a unique personal failing but a systemic problem and then leading a class uprising.

[seismicsight]

for the non lok watchers, could you elaborate on the problems of the rcpd and how it became something that toph didn't want to happen?

Some quick points because I had a nice long draft written and lost it all bc this app hates me:

LoK often strikes a tone that champions the status quo above social progress. There’s a lot of ideological mish mash that basically comes down to neoliberalism as a default, with villains that act as strawmen for the political struggles of the 20th century. As a result, it doesn’t really place a critical eye on the RCPD as a whole, despite its depiction as an arm of the government with a monopoly on violence which serves the interests of the governing elites. This is jarring to a viewership coming out of watching A:tLA, which places its protagonists in direct opposition to unjust institutions in a global conflict, and whose writing makes interesting and balanced criticisms of players within that conflict regardless of social, political, or economic position. The last time the audience saw an elite force of uniquely talented earthbenders take orders from a government official, they watched the Dai Li run a totalitarian shadow government in Ba Sing Se. With this parallel in mind, it’s only natural that they balked at the revelation that Toph - who often expressed her hatred for corrupt and unjust systems - was party to the RCPD’s formation.

Where LoK - and particularly the RCPD- struggles as a fantasy follow-up to its anti-authoritarian, anti-colonial precursor is that it doesn’t take any meaningful steps to distinguish itself from real-world problematic policing institutions. It is depicted as a force that ‘arrests first, asks questions later,’ and has even been a hindrance to the protagonists when their goals ran counter to those of the governing body. The RCPD also looks and feels like a New York police force in the early 20th century, which is another conversation in itself given the implication that the Asian-centric culture of yester-year needed to be Americanized to feel like it was in the future… but I digress.

The knee-jerk reaction is to say “Toph hated rules as a child, why would she enforce laws as an adult?” In the interest of neutrality, it bears noting that on a practical level she is well suited to many aspects of the job. Physically and intellectually, that is. It would have been personally fulfilling in many respects, not the least of which is that it began as a favor to her closest friends and placed her in proximity to them.

Ideologically, though, my interpretation differs from LoK canon because while she is not the activist of the group (that’s Katara) she does have strong opinions & ideals, and has the tenacity and cunning to champion her beliefs regardless of the constraints of her position. Part of me sees the LoK timeline as one where Toph was late in doing the internal work to break the cycle of abuse. What better way to ensure her agency is never challenged again than to wield the institutional power that was so often leveraged against her growing up? What points more clearly towards a trauma response than over-correcting her parenting approach based on what she suffered as a kid?

So in this house, Toph already began working on her shit in her 20s-30s. Through that lens, I don’t think she’d have directly shaped the RCPD into what it is in LoK, but rather founded the department on principles of anti-institutionalization, rehabilitative justice, etc. I’ve outlined my ideas for her tenure as the RCPD founder here and here.

Anyhow, I think it bears noting that the RCPD in LoK is decades removed from Toph’s leadership. So I like to imagine that she did lead a progressive organization that championed accountability, questioned unjust or politically-motivated legislation, and truly served the community… but since she stepped down it has been shaped into something she would not recognize.

[epicene-humanoid]

some trans Jeff thoughts:

he realized he was trans in elementary school and just went fuck it I'll just start introducing myself as Jeffery and see if anyone decides to stop me (as we know, jeff winger can get away with almost anything)

he got top surgery the second he could afford it (around the same time he started at his law firm), and probably bribed someone to keep it a secret

"I'm jeff winger and i would rather look at myself naked than the women I sleep with" are the words of a man proud of his transition

he's really insecure about his fashion sense, which is why he mostly dresses like the douchey guys at his firm in the start of the show, he thought you can't go wrong with the sleazy lawyer look

he will never admit it but he feels super good about the dean hitting on him, because the dean is a (cis) guy, acknowledging that Jeff is more manly than him

i think he starts out stealth and comes out to everyone one by one, probably starting with abed because he knows abed won't judge him and will probably just see it as an interesting backstory.

abed just says it's cool and maybe worth a prequel exploring Jeff's transition, and jeff asks him to predict how all of the members of the group will react to him coming out.

abed's predictions:

britta will be over-the-top supportive and do a ton of research about trans history, probably put together a slideshow just to prove how progressive she is, and jeff will be a little bit weirded out, but also touched that she did all that for him, though he would never let her know that

shirley will be confused, because she doesn't know how someone she trusts and knows so well could be part of a group she was raised to hate, but ultimately realizes that there's nothing actually against the lgbtq people in the bible, and, as a cool character development arch, starts to advocate against use of the bible to justify bigotry

troy will just think it over and decide that Jeff's physique and coolness are even awesomer knowing how much work he'd had to put in to be like that, and respects Jeff's manliness even more

annie will give him a hug, say something sweet about how she'll always love him, and worry about his health, because even she read somewhere that taking testosterone makes you more likely to have a heart attack, jeff will explain that the risk is still only as high a cis guy, and she'll be the one to always remind him to take his shots

peirce will say at best say "jeff winger used to be a chick?" and at worst call him a slur, either way there's sure to be a lot of misgendering from him, and pestering to know Jeff's deadname (needless to say, Jeff just doesn't tell peirce)

the whole group goes out of their way to keep their beach trips a secret from pierce (the girls don't want him there anyways, he's too liable to be creepy) even though jeff knows that even if pierce saw his scars, all he would have to do is make up a story about some childhood accident and pierce would never question it

sorry this ended up being super long. can I hear some of your headcanons for him?

YES ALL THIS!!! yes yes i’m fully accepting this as canon oh my god

i’m about to type a whole ass ESSAY at midnight because i have been DYING to talk about this for months ajfdksljk,,, this is going to be obscenely long and i might end up adding even more to it as i continue to rewatch the show because there is truly no shortage of trans jeff content (especially when you’re trans and see transness in every little thing ajdkslfkjs)

spoiler warning for literally everything about this show under the cut <3

i 100% agree, i feel like he realized he was trans super young, especially since in the show we see him as a little kid a couple of times. 

like look at little jeff with the oversized sweatshirt and little ponytail!! that’s childhood trans fashion. not to be dramatic but part of me thinks that jeff’s dad left before he fully came out to his family (which gives him even more angst about it, because until that one Thanksgiving episode, he’s never able to prove to his dad that he’s a better man), but part of me thinks that his dad left after he came out (which adds that spicy i-should-have-stayed-in-the-closet guilt that he has to work through). 

either way, because his dad wasn’t there, he had to base his concept of masculinity on something else, which was becoming a lawyer!! there’s some line that’s like “after the dust and divorce papers were settled the only man i looked up to was [the lawyer guy]”. like, replacing your father figure in your mind with the concept of “a job where you can talk your way in and out of anything and distort other people’s concept of reality”? that’s trans.

 and the fucking THANKSGIVING EPISODE... i struggle to watch it without crying hehe <3 yeowch! the dichotomy of willy jr. being the “wrong” kind of man because he’s “too soft” but jeff also not being enough despite adhering to all the social standards of masculinity... fuck!! this whole scene of him telling his dad “i am Not well adjusted” and talking about how he gave himself an “appendix surgery scar” when he was a kid and he still keeps the get-well-soon letters from his classmates under his bed? oh my god. the implication of people loving him not despite his scars but because of them?? trans. i can’t think about this episode for too long or i’ll start yelling.

OH and this scene? where he talks about how his mom got him a girl costume for halloween?? and everyone said “what a cute little girl” and after a few houses he stopped correcting them?? and “once the shame and the fear wore off, i was just glad they thought i was pretty”?? THAT’S TRANS... the man needs validation oh my god... and then in all the halloween episodes we see he has these ultra-masculine costumes (a cowboy, David Beckham, one of the fast and furious guys even though he never watched the movies, a boxer with his DAD’S boxing gloves... god) costumes are about becoming something else and he always chooses to be hypermasculine and that is trans.

THE PHYSICAL EDUCATION EPISODE!!!!!!! being uncomfortable during P.E. is a queer experience. period. but him being specifically uncomfortable in the clothes someone else is assigning to him? trans. “are we gonna talk about clothes like a girl? or use tapered sticks to hit balls around a cushioned mat like a man?” TRANS. and him eventually stripping in public? celebration of transness. and the fact that he eventually becomes comfortable in both the uniform and his own style!! trans!! god i love this episode. 

AND AND AND!!! the gay dean coming out episode!!! where it’s the three of them discussing the best way for the dean to come out as gay despite not entirely identifying with that label!! so we have both frankie and the dean who are sort of ambiguously queer, and jeff who’s a stealth trans man who’s probably only out to only the study group at this point. this scene where the dean and jeff have this like eyebrow communication while frankie is talking is just so cute. queer-to-queer communication. “I am so curious” “oh?” “intellectually.” “oh...” ajfdksljfk this scene just screams high school GSA to me and i love it so much.

and SPEAKING of the dean!! i totally see you on that. i feel like jeff has some internalized homophobia/biphobia (like he’d throw punches over someone else, but when it comes to himself he has a lot of shame). and also seeing the dean so confident in all his different outfits/costumes has a weird affect on him bc it’s like “okay, the dean, a cis guy, can do that, but i as a trans guy could Not because that’s Breaking the Rules”. which, like, throwback to the halloween thing. of course there’s no right way to be masculine, but mr. winger does not know that.

another thing!! the episode where their emails get leaked? that includes his emails with his therapist. fuck!! he was outed to the whole world in that episode!! no wonder he was so fucking angry!! this whole episode (and really any time he mentions his therapist) is so interesting when you think about them as a person he talks to about his transition. OH which adds to the thing with the dean!! “and you told your therapist you wanted to be alone this weekend” and “not you jeff, i know you’ll be visiting your dad” ”I told you to stop reading my emails”. luckily his study group has his back and just makes fun of him for emailing astronauts lmao

and WHO can forget “they’re giving out an award for most handsome young man!!!!” what else is there to say about this line besides: he’s trans. you know he didn’t get awarded enough for being a handsome young man when he was a kid, and no amount of compliments when he’s fully-grown can really make up for that. some people crash a kid’s bar mitzvah to cope with the fact that they struggled to be seen as themselves when they were a teenager <3

also his weird relationship with pierce? where he kind of hates him (understandably lmao) but at times has this almost-friends-almost-father-son relationship with him? especially in this episode where he’s forced to bond with him and ends up having a good time by accident (at a barber shop no less, the perfect place to Be A Man with your Man Friend). idk what to say about him besides the fact that pierce says his mom wanted a girl when he was born and made him dress like a girl (and his middle name is anastasia!) so if they’re gonna do any bonding over transness it’s gonna be that. 

okay one last thing and then i’ll shut up for the night. this episode kills me (and almost kills jeff hahahahelpi’mcrying). it’s a very Trans thing to not be able to visualize your future self, it just is. growing up trans at the time he did? i don’t know what kind of future he saw for himself, but i’m so happy that he ended up with a group of friends who became his family and love him the way they all do. i’m so emotional over this asshole it’s ridiculous. 

in conclusion:

they’re trans, your honor <3

[antiloreolympus]

14 Anti LO Asks

1. To the one anon: good question - how is it that the mortals dont know who Persephone is / assume she is a minor goddess and therefore its okay to mess with her but the gods (or Olympians / underworld denizens) know exactly everything about her (despite her being there only every so often and only being 20ish) - enough to say shes "wearing her signature white color" during a murder trial.

Also the reason why Persephone is wearing white is because

A). RS wanted persephone to always be "dressed as a bride" (and have Hades dressed as a groom respectively) to show that their matching / is supposed to be a visual cue that their eventually gonna be together.

B). I believe this is RS way of saying that Persephone (despite murdering some mortals) is innocent because in purity culture White = innocence, virginity, youth etc. (Even though RS explicity ssid she wanted to go against purity culture morals shes very much leaning into them). 

2. why are Psyche’s eyes yellow even in her human form? Is she sick??

3. honestly? LO is just gossisp girl at this point, espect even GG (at least in the first season) bothered to saturze the rich and was calling out how wealth and power makes them corrupt assholes. meanwhile LO is just GG season 2 and on of being like no no, the poor people are the evil people and the rich people are the oppressed ones! all while also fawning over their  wealth and status and being way into grown men wanting to bang barely legal teens and claiming to be "feminist" somehow.

4. Tumblr is well-known for broken tag system. Check the post' tags before complaining that it's op's fault. How about you guys not tag greek mythology when posting about LO? LO is not one-shot or short fancomic. It's also definitely not considered actual greek mythology. LO is years long webcomic with huge fans. LO has its own tag. Tell your fellow fans to stop using the greek mythology tag.

5. I would argue nyx is the only woman with a unique in design in LO but thats only because she looks like a deformed chicken woman. why was my night mom disrespected this much 😭

6. So now that LO is back from break and I can finally read chapter 170 - Why oh Why do ALL the female characters Have to be defined by their male love interests??? (Or really just love interests in general).

I understand LO qualifies as the "romance" genre and there are certain stipulations or I guess themes or what have you that make it romance but for f*cks sake.

Psyche being worried about Eros loving the "fake" her I kinda get, but really? Thats your most pressing concern?? Hera is defined by her garbage marriage to Zeus - King of the gods (of which is why she is Queen of the gods). Hestia + Athena are now defined solely by their relationship to each other (not the TGOEM or their respective traits of being a goddess of the hearth + goddess of war, strategy etc etc).

Aphrodite is defined by giving Persephone "relationship" advice (e.g: telling her to curb stomp Minthe because "nymphs dont take things from gods" - doubly implying that people are things to own) And by her jealousy of Persephone in the first place because Hades made a comment about how he thought Persephone was prettier than her. And also because of her "house of debauchery" (Artemis'  words) - and relationship with Ares.

Persephone is defined both by Apollo raping her and by her fated future status as Queen of the underworld (so her relationship with Hades). Hell, even the minor characters such as nymphs are defined by this relationship status / standard. Minthe is defined by her mean spirited personality yes, but Also because of her abusive relationship with Hades prior to the introduction of Persephone. Psyche is defined by her relationship woes with Eros. Daphne is defined by her relationship with Thanatos (and because shes a flower nymph) but also mostly because she looks like Persephone.

Rhea is defined by her marriage / relationship to Kronos (lets ignore the whole "fertility goddess power" plot for a second). Even Aetna is defined by Haphestus creating her! Is there not a single character (especially female) is isnt defined by their romantic love interest???Sorry. Maybe I'm overthinking this, but thats definitely how ot comes off as of late, in regard to the latest chapters.

Okay, same anon as earlier - I take it back somewhat - we have Artemis and Hecate that are not defined by their romantic relationships - but rather their lack of one.

However the way they are shown - it still comes off as a standard - "Artemis is stingy / a stick in the mud" because shes not romantically involved and is "barbaric" (according to Hera). And Hecate is still somewhat defined by her being Hades' employee (and cheerleader for him and Persephone to be together).

So technically yes, we have at least 2 characters that are not defined by their romantic interests / relationships, but they are still held to the standard of their "un-ladylike / undesirable" because their not romantically involved.

(I guess I should count Demeter, but only because shes more defined by just being "Persephone's overbearing mom" )

7. i think whats also kinda weird about this trial is like?? persephone is obvs framed as not liking the attention (bc duh) but she didnt like the previous press either, she wanted to be private, but wouldnt being with hades force her to be in the spotlight that makes her uncomfortable? also the citizens of the underworld already dislike hades, why would they want a uncontrollable felon as their queen, even if she found innocent? idk the whole thing just makes the endgame less plausible, tbh.

8. love that rachel was able to find a random deity name to name her random nymph the greek word for "beans" meanwhile apparently cant google actual greek names for even one off characters? like andrew, ellen, george, alexis, damian, luke, phoebe, sophia, and so any other english names are also greek, but she cant even bother with that? what exactly is her "research" if she cant even bother to spend 30 seconds googling greek names? at this point LO seems determined to be as un-Greek as possible.

9. wait so everyone in LO went from having no idea who persephone was, to her only showing up on ONE magazine cover, to now being the most well known person with a signature color? all in the span of two weeks with no genuine public outings? how does that make sense? also white isnt even her signature color if 90%+ the female cast and even a lot of the men ((including ZEUS) all wear it too.

10. the fact the courthouse WASNT the areopagus, aka the place in greece where they say the first ever trial ever happened and where the court system was invented, is just another point of rachel talking out her ass about being "respectful" or "researched" on greece and their mythology. its literally one of the most famous mythology spots ever with some fantastic stories to it and she's just like "nah! boring rectangle will do!" like why even both with mythology then if its this devoid of it?

11. Anons are saying Hades in the FS chapter is leaning down and talking to Persy like a child. Say it aint true.

(I wanna see. I thought RS was finally giving Persy adult proportions). 😨

12. So wait, hold up. I kinda get where RS is coming from with the law school in the underworld (because Hades is supposed to be a kinda Judge, jury, executioner situation in the afterlife when it comes to mortals and their "punishments" and whatnot). However, is RS stating that the ONLY law school / courthouse exists in the underworld? If so, why? Why wouldn't Athena be there then. She's a goddess of strategy and justice (among other things).

Also is RS really implying that Hades owns not only the banks and underworld but the law too? She really wants Hades to be a Gary Sue along side her Mary Sue - Hades controls everything that matters and since its his realm and blah blah blah rules, Zeus, king of the gods cant do anything about it.

(Which is dumb. Because you would think that because Persephone committed the crime in the mortal realm / on, or near Olympus that therefore she would be brought back there to dole out justice under Zeus jurisdiction because she committed the crime in His Realm). 

13. FP Spoiler ahead:

Why on earth couldn't the reporters have Greek names? There is so much wrong and bad with this story, yet this irks me so much. It is Brenda all over again.

14. i dont really get the point of the trial plotline, tbh. even persephone says she should be punished and held accountable, but hades is framed in the right for trying to go against that and weasel her out of it. so?? plus zeus has legit reason to punish them? persephone is a danger to others, demeter and hermes both committed treason to cover it up, and hades was harboring a fugitive of the law and is now trying to force the system to let her go. how is zeus in the wrong for this?

[nyaagolor]

may we please get the mirror world headcanons?

heck yes u may

Most of it will be under the cut bc I talk a lot

I like to think the Mirror World is a reflection of the regular world (I call it Prime World for convenience's sake), and by reflection I mean opposite. It's not opposite in a "good v evil" way, just in the sense that a mirror world counterpart is the inverse of their prime world self, for better or for worse. For example, Noddies in Prime World sleep for most of their lives, while Mirror Noddies barely ever sleep and are constantly alert. Instead of a Sleep Ability, they give Panic, aka the Kirby equivalent of slurping down 15 espresso shots in a row. The mirror world counterparts are no better or worse than the prime world, just different!

Headcanons for all the mirror world counterparts of the Star Allies (or at least the ones I've thought abt) are under the cut :3c

Shadow Kirby (Skirby): Where Prime Kirby is reckless, bold, and overconfident, Skirby is reserved, cautious, and kinda pessimistic. They're no weaker or meaner than Prime Kirby, but seem a bit shy and non-confrontational because they always want to scope out the scene before they launch into anything. Some might call it cowardly, but Skirby thinks it's pragmatic. Much like prime Kirby, though, he's the hero of Popstar and is usually the planet's last defense against whatever eldritch horror comes their way. He deserves a break, though, since unlike Prime Kirby he's not surrounded by friends to help him out

Shadow Dedede (SDDD): He started off as a good king, always being diligent, professional, and responsible in contrast to Prime DDD's self-serving, goofy ways. He wanted what was best for the mirror world, but life didn’t make it easy. The mirror dees, rather than the loyal helpers we know from the prime world, were backstabbing jerks who were loyal to no one but themselves. SDDD tried so hard to be a good king, but had no one to help, no one to pull him out of a slump, so he just slipped through the cracks and got worse. Bitterness and anger consumed him until he started looking out for himself and himself only. He became a tyrant, turning into an iron-fisted, merciless ruler whose laws were enforced through violence. DDD got better with the help of his friends, but SDDD got much, MUCH worse as a result of his isolation and loneliness. Also he has a battle axe instead of a hammer bc I think it's cool

Dark Meta Knight (DMK): He's basically the antithesis of a knight: he's willing to work for anyone no matter how rotten they are; he always plans on backstabbing them later, cares about no one but himself, never plays fair, and is a lazy, rude jerk. He likes spicy foods instead of sweets, challenges children to duels WITHOUT offering them a sword first, and is deathly afraid of heights, despite having wings. He was in the process of creating a land-razing tank called the Halberd, but his crew betrayed him and cut up his wings and mask so now he isolates himself out of anger and fear. After being with the Star Allies, he's made some friends and realized the value of teamwork-- also he likes teaching Adeleine swears. With Dark Mind gone and the Mirror World still a bit of a dump, DMK would much rather hang out in the prime world and get on Meta Knight's nerves. He tries his best to protect the two (2) people in the mirror world he does tolerate, though (it's skirby and sddd).

Mirror Bandee: Hates SDDD with a passion. In fact, he's attempted to assassinate the king at least 26 times, but fails both because SDDD is way smarter than him and also Mirror Bandee is a sniveling coward who runs at the first sign of danger. His repeated failures have made him more of a scaredy cat, so no one takes him seriously anymore. He has a knife and ties his bandana around his "mouth" like a scarf, but it doesn't help to make him more intimidating. His repeated attempts to kill the king (and more recently Skirby and DMK, who hang out with SDDD) have become a constant in their lives and weirdly enough they don't mind his company.

Mirror Marx: I always assumed that Prime Marx was a noddy with Mirror instead of sleep. Well Mirror Marx is the opposite-- instead of having Panic like the regular hyperactive Mirror Noddies, he has sleep. He didn't show up for the events of Amazing Mirror bc he was snoozin. Because of this, he never got the Nova's powers, never tricked skirby, and never did anything evil. In fact, unlike Prime Marx, Mirror Marx cares too much about everyone's feelings, is always kind, and doesn't have a mean bone in his body. He's the glue holding the mirror world together bc not even the worst of villains want to hurt him. He's just so darn CUTE

Mirror Animal Friends: Imagine the animal friends. Give them angry expressions and sunglasses. Now make them part of a gang. Yeah that's it. The Animals are no friend of skirby's and would sooner maul the poor kid than ever lend him a paw (or flipper or wing). The forest bows to their whims and they rule it like your typical mafia boss. They're jerks.

Mirror Daroach: See these posts.

Dark Taranza: Hoo BOY he's bad. He's real bad. He rules over Mirror Floralia (Sporalia?) which is underground and filled with nasty creepy crawlies. He hates getting his hands dirty and will do anything it takes to get more power and luxury so long as he doesn't have to put himself in danger. He only cares about one thing, and that's himself. What about Queen Sectonia, you ask? She was the original queen of Mirror Floralia, but Dark Taranza mind-controlled her into his puppet to do his bidding. When the people finally snapped and declared war on the tyrannical queen, it was her they shattered, being none the wiser that Dark Taranza was the one pulling the strings. He still has a box of her shards in his castle, just in case he needs a new puppet to play with. He loves jewels and machines, all things inorganic. The imperfections of flowers? Not his style.

Mirror Magolor: Quick tangent here: Mirror Lor Starcutter, rather than being a ship to BRING people to paradise, is a sort of pocket paradise, a little virtual reality magic... thing. It can also be easily modified to only open from the outside. That's important for later. Anyway, Mirror Magolor is brutally honest, but also rude, unfriendly, impulsive, and incredibly violent. He hates machines and will start punching a lamppost if he accidentally walks into it. Scrappy little dude. He would actually rather claw his ears off than be friends with another living being. He just likes brawling and destroying ancient artifacts and that's it. Well one day he tells the mirror crew he wants to go get this thing called the Master Crown so he can destroy it. SDDD, Skirby, Mirror Bandee and DMK realize hey, that'd be nice for us to have, let's join him and then betray him at the last minute. As soon as they get there, though, the crown ends up choosing Mirror Mags as a host before anyone can do anything. Oops! The others manage to shatter him... but then the crown pulls his shards back together and attacks them again. Realizing he's both totally lost it and also immortal, the others lock Mirror Mags inside the Lor as the crown erodes the last of his humanity. Consumed by blind rage and the crown's power, Mirror Magolor just lashes out at anything that moves, biting and clawing at whatever he can reach like a feral cat. There's like a 80% chance he has rabies.

Sorry to Susie, Gooey, Adeleine, and all the non-Star Allies crew, I haven't thought abt them yet

[lobotomy-maybe-bestie]

15 for the RQG asks?

15. so i could talk about apophis again but since i literally never shut up abt them i don't think it counts as something i haven't shared before. so here's a few headcanons about grizzop, artemis and her church that i wrote out in a rant some time ago:

grizzop so firmly and fundamentally believes in Artemis and Artemisian law that it just bleeds into every single part of his life. when going to rome he buys holy symbols of artemis for everyone except azu bc he knows enough about religion to know it'd be slightly offensive but everyone else- immediatly artemis.

the way he lights an arrow with holy fire just to issue a warning to some poor civilians who he knows he can't kill because they're not evil they're just incompetent. he just draws on that bond so easily even when he's in fucking rome. like it just works for him and he notices it's difficult but fuck if he cares. his god is THERE for him just literally all the time and grizzop himself is SUCH a ride or die person.

he's essentially got somewhat the same connection to his church that zolf had- they saved his life, welcomed him in, gave him something to hold onto. but while zolf and poseidon really do not get on- not even only because of trauma, more because zolf fundamentally does not do "follow these vague laws and instructions" and rather just does what he thinks is best- grizzop and artemis really fit together like a house on fire.

because if you think about it, for any other god, grizzop would be a TERRIBLE paladin. he's not interested in rituals, would hate spending all his time in one temple doing basic stuff, don't get me started on stuff like meditation. he would immediatly blaspheme against literally every other god because what they want and what their churches are doing isn't USEFUL. it isn't strictly efficient and pragmatic. that's where you would lose him. he needs a solid reason for anything to be and artemis and her church act the same way. everything has a use. nothing is for show, nothing is just for worship.

i bet holy symbols of artemis are small multi-function tools, like the arrow tips are sharp enough to cut stuff with them, the moon bit is actually sculpted so it works as a rudimentary bowl and it's heatable. there's no set rules about rituals or prayers, you just do whatever whenever. meditation just means you take watch and that's it. the prayers are straightforward, you just state what you want and that's it. grizzop does it all the time, sometimes without realising. just tiny things. whenever he touches someone he cares about he just says "protect them" under his breath when they aren't paying attention. sometimes he adds "please" but you don't have to. you don't have to plead for anything with artemis, which is great cause grizzop would be very bad at it. he has pride and he is right in that. he whispers "thanks" when an arrow hits the target just right and that's all you need with artemis, really. when no one's looking grizzop nods or waves to the moon sometimes and it looks extremely silly but it's his little inside joke.

i think he's had dreams with artemis before and i think they're EXTREMELY lowkey. he just wakes up in the place where the artemis lot first found him, his first home completely devoid of life and as he scouts around he sees her and she just looks like some goblin from some other clutch in amsterdam. because i don't think gods always manifest as humans bc why would they and honestly, appearing as the same race as the person you're speaking to is just handy because it saves time and things aren't awkward and there's little to no height difference and also artemis appreciates a shortcut because nobody has time to pick out carefully which form to take. so i think she just looks like... some goblin. has a bow. leather armor. a headband with a changing moon on it but that's it in terms of, like, iconography.

and she's just there and asks what's up and if he's okay and then grizzop tells her either yeah, he's fine and he's done some stuff or he just tells her what's wrong, why he feels bad. and she doesn't like, say anything bad she either offers a solution (and she's still a fucking god she's wise and smart and amazing) or just says "yeah, okay, that sucks, but it's okay you'll work it out".

i feel like she'd be strict if you break any of the artemisian laws and i think if she yells at you you will know fear. like it's not dramatic and scenic she doesn't change or anything but i mean the way grizzop talks to people who he thinks have fucked up and need a yell at is already terrifying, now multiply that by the power of someone who is actually a fucking god.