#or even Amid Evil

[cowbot-lumberjane]

DUSK was kinda mid to me and im tired of pretending it wasn't

[littlegirlinvisible]

And I cannot say even now that I regret Claudia, that I wish I had never seen her, nor held her, nor whispered secrets to her, nor heard her laughter echoing through the shadowy gaslighted rooms of that all too human town house in which we moved amid the lacquered furniture and the darkening oil paintings and the brass flowerpots as living beings should. Claudia was my dark child, my love, evil of my evil. Claudia broke my heart. — The Vampire Lestat.

[nocontextlestat]

And I cannot say even now that I regret Claudia, that I wish I had never seen her, nor held her, nor whispered secrets to her, nor heard her laughter echoing through the shadowy gaslighted rooms of that all too human town house in which we moved amid the lacquered furniture and the darkening oil paintings and the brass flowerpots as living beings should. Claudia was my dark child, my love, evil of my evil. Claudia broke my heart.

— Lestat.

[txttletale]

ofc you can feel however you like about hamas specifically and still be unequivocally on the side of palestinian resistance but talking about hamas like it's some invasive occupying regime or some inexplicable evil terrorising palestine or even a religious hate group is both racist and completely inane. whatever your opinion on hamas, i urge everyone to actually consider the position of palestinians on the ground--if everyone you loved was killed by an airstrike while the world cheered on, who the fuck wouldn't join an organisation promising revenge and action, when the alternative is looking down at the barrel if vanishingly short life expectancy amid more airstrikes in an open air prison with a 47% unemployment rate. you might not think that hamas is good or right or correct, but you have to understand it as a response to the situation it exists in or you'll just end up uncritically accepting the islamophobic propaganda lines being used to fuel a genocide

[manytoonepoet13]

I really do love these kinds of characters: characters who are confident yet insecure, harsh yet kind, genius yet could also be clueless at times, so sure of oneself and one's abilities, yet could also not know how they could contribute to something bigger in this group project called life.

Perhaps it's the mystery that surrounds them. No, not the "tall, dark, and handsome" kind of mystery, but the kind of mystery that billows like smoke whenever you open the packaging to a puzzle, or the heavy fog that guards the gates to a new world, or even a new universe that you're about to step into. The contradiction, the beautifully enigmatic beings that are these characters, the warring sides that long and strive for domination of their bodies presents something thought-provoking that it could invite the most prestigious of scholars to study them.

You see, these characters are not just characters; they're journeys that one must experience to understand, but even then, you can't confidently say that you know them 100% because it seems as though each day adds yet another layer of complexity to their character, a new level that one must go through to proceed through the next. And the best part of all this, you are rewarded with something so profound that it coaxes you to look at your own self.

Because, you see, these characters can be so complex that only a few people would willingly try and understand them; these characters can be so complex that only fewer people would willingly try to accept them. These characters can be so complex that they feel more human than the majority of the people in this world of ours.

They don't conform to trends, they don't conform to standards, even if they long to be accepted into something there is always a part of them that recolis whenever they are being placed into a bucket in an effort to "fit in" because some unconscious, maybe subconscious, part of them understand that an adjective or two is simply unable to even begin to describe who they are, what they represent, and what they contribute to this plane of existence.

They have brains, they have hearts, they have souls, they have humanity, even.

That is why I refuse to believe that these characters have no other purpose than fleeting entertainment.

While, yes, there are no such thing as mages or fire-breathing dragons or fairies or mermaids or whatever fantastical creature you can think of. But there are people who are vain, who are selfish, who are ruthless, who are liars, who are murderous, who are evil. And there are people who are humble, who are selfless, who are kind, who are truthful, who are good. However, human as we are, it's impossible for us to be purely good; there are times when we make mistakes, whether intentionally or not for example. And these characters represent that. They embody the nuances of what it's like to be human, to war between desire and longing and desire and longing. They are the soldiers sent to war to kill to protect and bring peace and not even know if they've managed to include the ones so dear to them in that bubble of protection and peace. They are the fathers who fully understand their sons are in the wrong, but even amid a stern lecture, they can't help but worry about whether or not they're harmed. They are the child who had to lie and adjust for a friend, only to ask them if they can drop the act in private later because they know it's wrong.

They are the lessons we understand that we should learn and implement, but we just can't seem to find it in ourselves to empty our cup to leave room for those said lessons because we are too afraid of the unpredictable and different.

That is what makes these characters important. That's what makes these characters human.

That's what makes these characters so difficult to understand. And that's why I love them.

[fuckyeahchinesefashion]

During Qingming Festival (清明节Tomb-Sweeping Day) every year, Chinese netizens enthusiastically went to pay respects to Zhuge Liang诸葛亮（181—234）(People respectfully called him "Wuhou"武侯Marquis Wu, Wu stands for martial, ardent, courageous, valiant and dauntless etc, it's his official noble title, which later became an honorific celebrating his achievements and unwavering loyalty). His memorial temple is in Chengdu, Sichuan Province, where he's enshrined together with his best bromance Liu Bei刘备, the Emperor of Shuhan蜀汉(eastern han dynasty of ancient sichuan area)—it's the only 'ruler and minister shared temple' in Chinese history. So when people visit the Wuhou Shrine, they honor Liu Bei as well (Liu Bei once said "Having Kongming (literary name of Zhuge Liang) is to me like fish having water"). Meanwhile, Zhuge Liang's actual tomb is located at the foot of Dingjun Mountain in Mian County, Hanzhong 汉中勉县定军山(Shaanxi Province). Every Qingming Festival, it gets covered in flowers, along with many playful tributes left by young people, like three kingdoms-themed fandom merch, train tickets from Xi'an the capital city of shaanxi province to Chengdu, characters in a Three Kingdoms-themed mobile card battle game, BRPG cards and cartoon badges of three kingdoms (Wuhou Shrine's cultural-themed souvenirs), soil of central plains, memes and all kinds of handwritten letters.

Zhuge Liang is deeply loved by people for his wisdom and lifelong care for the common folk. He is seen as a symbol of intelligence, courage, and loyalty, a guardian deity of the people.

Many famous ancient Chinese poets admired him and wrote poems in his honor. For example:

Lu You陆游 (1125—1210) wrote: "His Memorial on Expedition has won him immortal fame;Who could ever stand with him shoulder to shoulder in name?(by xu yuanchong) "This campaign memorial alone ensures his name will never fade —Through a thousand years, who could match his grade? (by Burton Watson)出师一表真名世，千载谁堪伯仲间"

Du Fu杜甫 (712—770) penned: "Where is the famous premier’s temple to be found?/Outside the Town of Brocade with cypresses around./In vain before the steps spring grass grows green and long,/And amid the leaves golden orioles sing their song./Thrice the king visited him for the State’s gains and pains;/He served heart and soul the kingdom during two reigns./But he died before he accomplished his career./How could heroes not wet their sleeves with tear on tear (translated by xu yuanchong)丞相祠堂何处寻？锦官城外柏森森。 映阶碧草自春色，隔叶黄鹂空好音。 三顾频烦天下计，两朝开济老臣心。 出师未捷身先死，长使英雄泪满襟."

What moves people most is Zhuge Liang’s "Memorial on the Campaign" (Chu Shi Biao出师表).

It’s a heartfelt letter he wrote before leading the Northern Expeditions, expressing his devotion to his kingdom and ruler, despite knowing the odds were against him.

He vowed to give his all for his people, even as he grieved lost allies and faced his own aging and illness.

The mix of duty, sacrifice, and unshaken resolve makes it one of history’s most touching political texts—a testament to loyalty unto death.

In Chinese culture, it's believed that outstanding individuals who made remarkable contributions to people (like Zhuge Liang, Guan Yu, Mazu, etc, Mazu is worshipped as the guardian deity of sailors and fishermen) would be elevated to divine status after death. That's why these figures are deeply revered by the people.

Also at the tomb of Emperor Zhao Lie汉昭���皇帝/ Emperor of Illustrious and Ardent (Liu Bei's posthumous title), you can see a fan tribute, a metal certification labeled 'Eastern Han Dynasty succubus东汉魅魔', for his ability to attract and inspire loyal generals to serve him, despite his humble beginnings. Fans even dropped a beagle plushie at the tomb as an offering—shoutout to Gan Ning甘宁, the original gangster ‘rebel pup’ of the Three Kingdoms. People love leaving inside-joke offerings for their favorite historical badasses. In Sichuan, Zhuge Liang is revered as one of the guardian spirits protecting the Land of Abundance天府之国 from evil spirits and misfortune. That’s why Chinese tourists visiting Sichuan always make a stop at the Wuhou Shrine to pay their respects—not just to Zhuge Liang (honored as "Marquis Wu"), but also to Liu Bei, Guan Yu, and Zhang Fei housed within the shrine. People think that a trip to Sichuan isn’t complete without these things: Admiring the natural beauty of Western Sichuan’s landscapes; Spicy hot pot; Visiting the pandas; and making a pilgrimage to the Wuhou Shrine—where history, legend, and local faith intertwine. The main reasons for them to visit the Wuhou Shrine are to attend a docent-led interpretation session and explore the exhibits—immersing themselves in the stories of the Three Kingdoms. If they just rush through it, they’ll miss the depth of the experience. (Note: During peak seasons, advance booking is required.)

"Little Sweet Ginger" (小甜姜xiaotianjiang) is a modern affectionate nickname for Jiang Wei (姜维), Zhuge Liang’s successor in the Shu Han kingdom. Jiang Wei took over after Zhuge Liang’s death, continuing the near-impossible mission of defending Shu Han against the stronger Wei kingdom. Despite his efforts, Shu Han fell in 263 CE, and Jiang Wei died fighting. Fans see Jiang Wei as a tragic figure—a loyal student burdened with his mentor’s unfinished legacy. To honor Zhuge Liang and his fellows, the standard seat fare for high-speed rail tickets from Chengdu to Xi'an is set at 263 yuan (Xi'an, anciently known as Chang'an, served as the historic capital of the Han Dynasty, and Zhuge Liang devoted his entire life to restoring the Han dynasty's glory—to return to the old capital and bring peace back to the Central Plains). Some believe it's just a coincidence, while others think it's an low-key tribute quietly endorsed by the authorities. Nearly two thousand years have passed. The Three Kingdoms are now but a distant dream, yet in their hearts, people still long to see him win.

[cece693]

Not Going to Change, Honey

pairing: carlisle cullen x male reader tags: evil reader, he doesn't really have morals tbh, Carlisle is your mate, rocky relationship, unresolved conflict, part 2 if people want it

For all the centuries Carlisle Cullen had roamed the earth, he had never encountered anyone quite like you. He had seen grandeur in architecture, brilliance in art, and compassion in the tender eyes of mortals. But when he first laid eyes on you—one of the Volturi’s most lethal guards—he was utterly unprepared for the impact you would have on him.

Carlisle’s initial impression was one of quiet awe. You stood poised in the grand reception hall of the Volturi fortress, clad in the distinctive blood-red cloak that symbolized your allegiance to Aro. Long, elegant lines formed your silhouette—every inch of you exuded a kind of potent, dangerous allure that was hard to ignore. Perhaps it was the severe cut of your jaw or the dark gleam in your eyes that made Carlisle’s breath catch. But despite the warning prickle of tension in the air, there was something undeniably captivating in your presence.

“I presume you are the esteemed Dr. Cullen,” you said smoothly, voice as cold and refined as the marble walls around you.

Carlisle inclined his head, forcing himself to maintain calm even though his chest felt inexplicably tight. “Yes. Carlisle Cullen,” he replied politely. “I recently arrived at Aro’s invitation.”

You surveyed him with an intensity that made him feel as though every thought he had was laid bare. Carlisle found his gaze lingering on the sharp contour of your cheeks and the elegant line of your mouth. There was a deadly grace about you, but more than that, a magnetic pull he couldn’t explain.

“Word of your…unique lifestyle precedes you,” you remarked, a slight edge of amusement curling your lips. “I suppose you’ll find Volterra quite different from your usual endeavors.”

Carlisle almost smiled in return. “I suspect I will,” he said quietly. Then he glanced around, torn between fascination and a subtle dread of the Volturi’s rigorous methods. “Though I’m eager to see what the Volturi’s world is truly like.”

You nodded curtly, turning on your heel to guide him deeper into the fortress. The moment you moved, Carlisle found himself transfixed by the fluidity of your steps, by the swish of your cloak. He wondered if you realized how captivating you were, or if cruelty and power were all you cared to claim as your own.

As time slipped by in Volterra, Carlisle discovered the Volturi’s customs and tactics were indeed difficult to reconcile with his beliefs. Yet, even amid that discord, he found himself drawn to you. You were everything Carlisle was not: ruthless, unwavering in your loyalty to Aro, and wholly accepting of a vampire’s predator nature. And yet, it was your contradictions that made you all the more alluring.

Carlisle had never believed in the concept of “opposites attract” until he crossed paths with you in the fortress library. He had been reading an antique medical text by the pale light of an ornate lamp, trying to distract himself from the day’s unsettling events, when he heard the soft echo of footsteps.

“Does Cullen also dabble in the history of human medicine?” you teased as you approached, a crimson sash draped diagonally across your chest. Your posture was perfect, your head held high.

Carlisle looked up, the faintest warmth creeping into his golden eyes. “I’ve devoted my life to saving humans. It’s…a passion.” He paused, watching as you took a seat across from him, uninvited and unbothered. “I’m surprised to see you here. I didn’t realize you had an interest in medicine.”

Your lips curved into a small, wry smile. “I don’t. But I was curious to see what keeps you tucked away in this dusty library night after night.”

Something about your directness made Carlisle’s throat tighten. He shut the old tome carefully, inhaling the scent of aged paper. “And now that you’ve seen me, what do you think?”

Leaning forward, you regarded him thoughtfully, your crimson eyes lingering on the gentle lines of his face. Your gaze was unsettling, piercing, but Carlisle found it shockingly intimate. “I think you’re a man out of place—yet you keep striving to adapt. There’s something admirable about that.” Then your smile vanished. “But I also think you’re naive to believe you can find any goodness here.”

Carlisle’s lips parted slightly. “There must be some measure of order, of morality, if the Volturi have kept the vampire world hidden so efficiently for so long. It can’t be all cruelty.”

“Morality?” You laughed under your breath, a low and dangerous sound. “Is that what you think you’ll find among us?” You shook your head, your eyes glinting. “Aro is cunning; Caius is cruel. Marcus is…numb. Morality is a tool, wielded only when convenient.”

And yet, as you spoke, Carlisle couldn’t help but notice how the lamplight highlighted the sculpted angle of your cheekbone, the richness of your voice, the slender cords of muscle in your neck as you half-turned away. He felt drawn to you, as though in another life, you might have fit in the place he dreamed of—somewhere far gentler.

As the weeks passed, Carlisle had more and more reason to question the Volturi’s practices. He witnessed the methodical punishments, the harsh interrogations, and the unwavering loyalty demanded of each guard. And yet, in quiet moments, he also witnessed small kindnesses from you—fleeting but unmistakably real.

Once, in a secluded corridor, he caught you covertly offering a sympathetic word to a newly turned vampire, shaken and afraid. You hid it behind a stern command, but Carlisle recognized the concern flickering in your eyes. Another time, you saved a mortal servant from the wrath of another guard who had lost control. Though you claimed it was only for efficiency’s sake, Carlisle saw the truth. You possessed a depth of compassion you refused to acknowledge.

You confronted Carlisle one evening by the window of the fortress’s grand hall, where silvery moonlight reflected on the polished floor. He was staring out into the silent streets of Volterra, hands clasped behind his back.

“What are you really looking for, Carlisle?” you asked, voice hushed yet insistent.

“I’m not sure,” He answered honestly. “Perhaps reassurance that I made the right choice coming here—or proof that I should leave.”

You lifted your chin, a scoff escaping your lips. “If you despise our methods so much, why stay?”

Carlisle’s gaze drifted to your face, gentling as he took in the faint lines of tension on your brow. “Because I’d hoped to find something good here—someone I could help redeem. And I…” He swallowed, voice trembling with emotion. “I’d hoped you might join me in that.”

You stared at him for a moment, your expression unreadable. Then, to his surprise, you raised a pale hand to brush an errant lock of hair back from his temple. The touch was achingly gentle, contradictory to your reputation for merciless skill in battle.

“Why waste your compassion on me?” you whispered, red eyes flickering.

Carlisle felt his throat tighten at the quiet vulnerability in your question. “It isn’t a waste,” he murmured, turning his head just enough to press into your hand. “I see your strength, your elegance, and beneath it all, a heart that still cares.”

Your lips parted slightly in a faint expression of surprise, but you hardened your gaze, retracting your hand as though burned. “Don’t romanticize me, Carlisle. You’ll only be disappointed.”

Yet, despite your dismissive words, Carlisle could see the faint quiver of your jaw—proof that not everything in you was made of stone.

Carlisle wanted to stay with you—see the connection between you blossom into that of mates—but as time went on, his resolve to leave the Volturi grew stronger. He couldn’t reconcile his moral code with the violence he saw. The tipping point came when he witnessed an unjust execution—one Aro insisted was necessary to maintain secrecy. Carlisle found himself unable to stand by as a life, no matter how tainted, was extinguished without mercy.

He sought you out in the ancient corridor lit by flickering torches. Stone arches framed you like an immortal sculpture, and for a moment, Carlisle’s heart clenched at how beautiful you appeared—like a painting come to life.

“I’m leaving,” he said softly but firmly, stepping closer than he ever had before. “I can’t stay here and watch this cruelty. It goes against everything I believe.”

Your expression hardened, but your eyes betrayed a flash of pain. “So, that’s it?” you asked, voice low. “You leave because reality offends your delicate conscience?”

Carlisle exhaled shakily. “It’s not about being offended. It’s about upholding the sanctity of life. You know that’s my creed.”

You swallowed, the torchlight catching in your hair, illuminating your features in deep shadow and warm highlights. Carlisle’s gaze flickered over your face, taking in every detail—every elegant line, every subtle contour he had come to find so enthralling.

“I already asked you before,” Carlisle continued, breath trembling. “but please come with me. Whatever bond is between us—whatever this is—I can’t bear the thought of leaving it behind.”

He reached out, gently brushing his fingertips along your jaw. The featherlight contact sent a tremor through both of you. For a moment, you closed your eyes as if steeling yourself against an onslaught of emotion.

“Carlisle,” you murmured, the single syllable loaded with longing and heartbreak. Then your eyes opened, scarlet irises locking onto his golden ones. “I cannot follow you. Aro trusts me. I have earned my place here through centuries of service.”

Carlisle’s lips parted, and his chest constricted painfully. “But what about your happiness? Don’t you see there’s more to life than this endless cycle of violence?”

Your jaw tightened. “This is my world. My choice. I’m not like you. I can’t pretend that moral codes and hopeful ideals will keep me safe.” You lowered your gaze. “You have to go. If you stay, you’ll be broken—one way or another.”

Something inside Carlisle cracked, the pain resonating through every fiber of his immortal body. “So that’s it?” he asked, voice faltering. “You choose them over—”

“I’m sorry,” you interrupted, your voice trembling at the edges. “But you have to leave. Now.”

In a final desperate moment, Carlisle pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, lingering just long enough to feel the slight chill of your skin. You stood perfectly still, your eyes sliding shut in silent torment. Then he stepped back, letting the cold air slip between you as though forming an invisible wall.

You remained where he left you, the slow hush of your unneeded breath the only movement. It took several minutes before you opened your eyes, composure already brittle. You touched the spot on your forehead where his lips had lingered, an ache you couldn’t name thudding in your chest. You had chosen your duty over love—and it stung in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

Carlisle eventually found a new life far from Volterra, building a family and fostering the ideals he cherished. Yet in the quiet hours of predawn, when his coven was at rest and the world was still, he thought of you. He recalled the elegantly carved lines of your face, your unwavering stare, and the fleeting softness you revealed only to him.

No matter the distance, no matter how many centuries stretched between him and that fortress of stone, you lingered in Carlisle’s thoughts—an unhealed wound and a cherished secret. He imagined a time you might leave the Volturi’s shadows behind, stepping into the light he so desperately wanted to share with you. Until that day, he carried the memory of your touch and the haunting depth of your eyes. For in the darkest corners of his heart, he still believed you were worthy of love—and that one day, you might finally believe it too.

[thehighladywrites]

That's your mother, but she's my wife first…

⋆⭒˚｡‎♡‧₊˚ pairing: cassian x fem!reader, the inner circle mentioned

⋆⭒˚｡‎♡‧₊˚ summary: 18+ nsfw, mdni, light angst, stress, smut, fluff, praise, cassian channelling his inner general, reader being an absolute sweetheart who deserves everything good in life fr

⋆⭒˚｡‎♡‧₊˚ amara’s note: okay so I don’t have any kids so some parts might be inaccurate but close your eyes please🤞🏽i have nothing else to say, i just wanna fuck cassian so bad rn...

Spilled milk, mismatched socks, wailing babies.

Gods, what you wouldn’t do for a moment of peace…

Your children were usually calm, even when they were tumbling down stairs and running into tables, but during your youngest twin kids teething phase, they developed an interest for chewing on anything. Their outburst put your two other kids in distress, making it a difficult period for everyone.

In your attempt to keep your twins safe, you unintentionally became the evil mother for denying them the joy of chewing on concrete bricks, their father’s important books and a million other dangerous things that a child simply shouldn’t be putting in their mouth. 

They had been given enchanted teething toys made out of moonstone by their uncle Rhysand, but it didn’t keep them entertained at all. Safety was apparently too boring for them.

This morning was extra rough because Cassian had to leave early for a mission, leaving you with four kids. Although the two oldest ones, 7 and 12, could get themselves ready for the day, they still needed some help with some things. You were downright in a foul mood, feeling the weight of frustration and helplessness as the twins wailed and your oldest ones argued, all while trying to keep your emotions hidden.

“ You took the last pancake, Ves!” your son angrily sliced the remains of his food as your daughter, Vesna, looked at him with anger. “ I don’t care. I told you that I wanted it and you made no move for it, Therian. Blame yourself and be quicker next time.” she bickered back. They kept arguing about that stupid pancake as you picked your twins and moved to the rocking chair across the livingroom to sooth them. The kitchen seamlessly flowed into the living room, creating an open floor plan that allowed you to effortlessly monitor Vesna and Therian.

 “ It’s okay, babies. There we go, hush now.” But it didn’t work, they kept screaming and you were at your breaking point. You felt like the worst mom ever as you looked up, took a deep breath and blinked back tears. 

You almost yearned for Cassian's return, craving the comfort of your mate's presence amid the chaos. Yet, the nagging self-doubt held you back, hesitant to burden him with your distress and feeling a twinge of selfishness in the idea of asking him to cut short his mission. Despite the internal struggle, you chose to tough it out, convincing yourself that countless women had faced similar challenges, wondering if you could measure up to their strength.

Unbeknownst to you, you had been signaling Cassian with your feelings through the bond since this morning. He was already on his way back the moment your emotions reached him. He was just in time to hear your daughter’s frustration directed towards you, though none of you had felt his presence or heard him approach your home. 

“Mom, you're seriously failing at shutting them up. It's not dragon taming to handle two kids, and it shouldn't be this painful for the rest of us. How about you take them outside and only come back when you've figured out how to keep them quiet? Because none of us can stand the noise.” You looked at her stunned as a million thoughts went through your head. Guilt, anger and self-doubt took root inside you.

 Guilt, because was she right? Anger, because she shouldn’t have spoken to you like that ever. Self-doubt, because your fears and feelings about motherhood were spoken out loud. 

Your first-born had a sour expression on her face that quickly fell before she looked down at her plate sheepishly. Maybe she felt regret? But what made her react like that instantly? Your daughter could be hotheaded and it usually took her a few hours to calm down, but not this quick. 

Looking at where she removed her eyes from, you look and see your husband, body tense and wings tucked in tightly. You felt immediate comfort and wanted to throw yourself in his arms and fucking cry. How you had missed him this much in only a few hours was a mystery. 

His boots thudded heavily against the wooden floors as he approached your embarrassed daughter. “Look at me,” was all he needed to say before Vesna reluctantly lifted her head. She knew he was going to chew her out. He clenched his jaw in anger as he looked down at her. “Your lack of empathy for what your mother is dealing with right now is astounding. Instead of criticizing, maybe you should try contributing to the solution. We're a family, and we handle things together, not by throwing blame around. She's your mother, but remember that she's my mate and wife first, and no one speaks to my mate and wife with disrespect ever, not even you. Now go ahead and apologize to her.”

Your husband, ever the general.

With teary eyes, realizing the gravity of her words, Vesna approached you. “Hey, Mommy,” she mumbled, avoiding eye contact. She hadn’t called you mommy in forever. “I... I shouldn't have said those things. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so harsh. I know it must be difficult and my anger took over. I really love you and I’m sorry.”

You were a bit surprised by the apology and softened your expression before replying, “It's okay, sweetheart. We all have our moments. Just remember, we're a team, and we need to support each other.” She nodded, still feeling a bit guilty, and said, “I'll try to do better. Can I help you with anything now?”

A genuine smile appeared on your face as your replied, “That would be wonderful. Let's work together to make things smoother for everyone. How about you start clearing the table and Therian picks up things from the floor.” She nodded and gave you a small kiss on the cheek before hurriedly making her way back to the kitchen table. Cassian gave her a kiss on the head and gave her a proud smile.  “I’m glad you apologized, and it takes courage to admit when we’re wrong. Let’s move forward now. Your willingness to help now means a lot. Thank you.”

Feeling the tension ease after the daughter's apology, your mate approached you. He gently placed a hand on your shoulder and said, “Hi pretty.” You look up at him with a thankful smile. “Hi lover.” He smiles right back at you. “I know it's been a rough day. I’m so proud of you, sugar. We'll get through this together. How about you go upstairs and soak in the tub while I take care of the kids.” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, and wrapped his arms around the twins who had gone quiet.

Feeling reassured by Cassian’s comforting words, you smiled appreciatively. You gave him a tender kiss in thanks before scurrying upstairs, grateful for the support and unity he provided for your family. 

As you undressed, a delightful surprise caught your eye – the tub was filled, and a slice of your favorite cake awaited you on a nearby table. Gratefully, you thanked The House for the steaming tub and the unexpected treat. Stepping in, you let the heat envelop you, soothing the tension in your muscles. Time seemed to blur as you relaxed in the warm water — minutes or hours, it was hard to keep track. Exhaustion gradually overcame you, and your eyelids grew heavy in the comforting embrace of the tub, a sweet slice of cake adding to the calmness of the moment.

Entering the room, Cassian caught sight of you in the steaming tub, content and relaxed. A mixture of emotions flooded over him – admiration and a deep love that seemed to intensify in this quiet scene. He approached silently, not wanting to disturb the serene moment. Gently, he reached out to stroke your hair, his eyes reflecting the warmth and affection he felt. In that intimate moment, a silent understanding passed between you, affirming that you’d never be alone ever. You’d be there for each other and it made your heart swell. 

Curiosity lit up your eyes, you looked at your husband and asked, “Hey, where are the kids? Did you take care of them?”

A gentle smile played on his lips as he revealed, “Actually, Rhysie and Feyre picked them up. They thought we could use a quiet weekend, just the two of us. They’re taking Nyx, Ves and Theiran on a trip up the mountains but the twins are staying at the River House with Elain and Lucien. She made a special herbal blend that helps their gums, it’s all very Elain.”

Surprise and gratitude washed over you as you processed the thoughtful gesture. “That's so sweet of them, you remarked, a genuine smile forming. “A quiet day sounds perfect.” You exchanged a glance, appreciating the unexpected silence given by thoughtful friends.

“So, are we entirely alone for the entire weekend?” You attempted to conceal your smile as warmth surged in your belly upon meeting Cassian's gaze, only to discover him returning a heated look. “Indeed, sweetness. It's just you and me, alone. Whatever shall we do to pass the time?” His commanding, taunting voice always managed to drive you crazy. He had a charming voice that you could listen to forever. “I can think of a few ways…” you responded as you stood up, dripping wet. You beckoned him closer  and deeply inhaled his delicious scent. He smelled like home. Throwing your arms around him, you inched your lips closer to his, teasing him, not letting him get close enough for a real kiss. He frowned and slightly pouted. “Either give a proper kiss or I walk away.” You knew it was a false threat. Cassian wouldn’t ever leave your embrace now that he was turned on. 

But you decided to keep playing with him, wanting to see how far you could push him. 

“Yeah? Walk away then, baby.” You let your arms drop to the side, slightly tilting your head with a small smirk on your lips. You felt a surge of amusement as you observed him, jaw tight and knuckles white from clenching, meeting your gaze with defiant determination. “Stop fucking with me, y/n/n. You want me as much as I do.” It was his turn to return a mocking smirk. “ What, you think I don’t know you by now? You think I don’t know that you wanna be fucked until you can’t think straight? Little one, I have years on you. I know your body better than you. I’ll ask again. Are you going to kiss me properly or do I walk away?”

 Fucking hell. He really did know your body better than you since his words only fueled you on. While you enjoyed toying with him, it was time to throw in the towel. No way where you wasting any more time. With hands behind your back you looked up at him, doe-eyed and blushy. “I’ll give you a proper kiss, Cassie. Then please take me to bed.” He smiled down at you with a devilish smile, putting his hand on your hips as he pulled towards his warm chest. “ Whatever my baby wants, she gets.” With hands on his chest, you stood on your toes as water swished around your legs, putting your plush lips against his soft ones. 

 Careful, gentle, loving, comforting and really fucking hot.

That was all you could think of when you were kissing him. One of his warm hands roamed all over your body as his other one cupped your face, deepening the kiss. Your own hands stayed in one spot, your favorite place to put your hands. His chest. You absolutely loved touching his chest. Giving his pecs a light squeeze, resting against them, anything really. Centuries of honing his body into a weapon had made him look like a god. 

You wanted to dry off and move to your bedroom, and as if Cassian had read your thoughts, he grabbed the towel without breaking the kiss and wrapped it around you. He simply picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he moved to the bedroom before gently lowering you to the soft bed. Cassian caught your wrists and pinned them, crisscrossed, above your head while he settled between your legs, once again wrapping them around his waist. You kissed until your lips swelled and pulled away for air. 

He forced your legs apart, hand cupping your pussy. You let out a gasp, quickly gripping onto his broad shoulders. Cassian carefully watched your face as it contorted into pleasure when he pushed in two fingers, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you let out a moan.

 “Feels good, wifey? ” Cassian asked as your nails dug into his shoulders, hips bucking into his touch. “ mhmm, yeah it feels really fucking good.” you managed to respond as you felt his fingers speed up, curling into that delicious spot that made you absolutely melt. 

He wanted to be inside of you, fuck you and ruin you all over the sheets. “ It would feel a lot better  if I had you wrapped around my cock.” He said, looking up at you through is his dark lashes, eyes full of mirth. You clenched around his fingers at the thought of him filling you up with his thick cock. It had been a while since you had been properly dicked down by him, since you two were busy with life and kids. Quickies, fingering and handjobs were all you had time for since the twins were born 6 months ago. As much as you loved your kids, you also loved alone time with your mate and it was rare these days. So of course you’d use this weekend to get fucked, and maybe that would help you relax a bit. Cassians cock had always been the answer for you. 

Mad? Get dicked down. Sad? Get dicked down. Happy? Get dicked down. 

Huh. 

No wonder you had four kids…

You nodded eagerly at him, “ Please cassie, fill me up. I really need it.” He sat up, dumped his clothes on the floor and positioned his cock infront of your throbbing core, teasing a bit. He used his fingers to scissor you open a bit. When you felt even more slick under his touch he retracted his fingers and licked your wetness off of them. He smiled at around his fingers and said, “Delicious.” Your chuckle morphed seamlessly into a moan when he slammed his lenght into you.

  He let out a sound of pleasure as he pushed himself into you. You clenched around his cock, you were so wet and slippery around him. He let out a pleased groan as he started giving you deep strokes. His pace quickened with the intention of finishing inside of you. He loved to make a mess of your pussy like that, fuck you full of his cum and watch it slowly drip out. Nothing made him more possessive than seeing his mate full of his cum. “Fuck, you’re taking me so well, sweetheart. Such a good girl for me, I’m so proud of you, my beautiful girl.” He knew the exact words you needed today and it made you feel so emotional that he knew you this well. 

You blushed. Pleasure crept up your spine once more. Your legs were starting to shake, sweat coated your back. He pulled you into his arms and kissed you as his strokes were getting faster and faster, his lips muffling your moans. He kept up the pace, feeling the pleasure flow through his body, bringing him closer to climax. He loved the feeling of you around him.

 He was addicted to it. He was addicted to you.

You moaned and arched your back as he continued to fuck into you. You wanted to cum so badly, and as if Cassian once again read your mind, he said something that almost made you cry.

“ Don’t cum yet.”

He must have caught your annoyed stare because he looked down, sporting his usual grin, and said, “I want us to come together. You can handle that, right, pretty?” Your brows furrowed as you attempted to feign annoyance, though deep down, you weren't truly bothered at all.

 No, no you weren’t mad at all because if he was adamant about you finishing together, then you’d do everything in your power to make it happen. You got closer to him, pressing a quick kiss before deepening it as your tounges swirled around each other before you pulled away, biting his lip. He let out a groan and it only spurred you on. You pulled out all your tricks, whispering downright filthy things in his ear. That seemed to do the trick. Cassian thrusted deeper and deeper, rubbing tight circles on your neglected clit before you came in unison. 

You moaned at the feeling, warmth filled you as his pace started to slow down. Your mate collapsed on top of you and your put his head on your chest as you ran your fingers through his hair. He remembered that he hadn’t pulled out yet but before he could you stopped him. 

“ Please baby, don’t pull out yet. It feels really warm and good and I want you in me forever.”

You felt his chest rumble with a gentle laughter. “ Whatever you want, you shall have. You did so well, sugar. I love you.” You kissed his forehead and gave him praise back. “ Thank you, baby. I’m so happy you’re here, I love you too.”

Safe to say you fucked the whole weekend, everywhere, only taking breaks for food and occasional naps. But you also basked in the intimacy of having him. by yourself. Eating together, talking about everything between the heavens and earth, cracking jokes and just enjoying yourselves. 

You and your mate, together for all eternity...

[mawrko]

"And I cannot say even now that I regret Claudia, that I wish I had never seen her, nor held her, nor whispered secrets to her, nor heard her laughter echoing through the shadowy gaslighted rooms of that all too human town house in which we moved amid the lacquered furniture and the darkening oil paintings and the brass flowerpots as living beings should. Claudia was my dark child, my love, evil of my evil. Claudia broke my heart. "

[roturo]

✒ LOML ⋆⭒˚.⋆ (geto's version)

⋆⭒˚.⋆ sypnosis: You and Suguru Geto were once inseparable, bound by shared dreams and laughter. As time passed, the warmth of those days faded into distant echoes, leaving behind only the haunting traces of a love that once was. Feeling the touch of someone closer made you feel real again. But nothing lasts forever, right?

warnings: smut, unprocteted sex, angst, widow!reader, cult!geto suguru, mentions of ptsd, mentions of death, time passes, soulmate!geto suguru, reader x gojo satoru, mentions of past, let me know if i missed smt.

A/N: okay so, i just broke my back at dance but dw guys i just finished this request so i'll upload it, that means it’s npr— i dont know if yall will get my idea but i made a try, reblog and leave a comment for support !

The bell rang, reminding you how you felt once at the end of another day at Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical School. Amid the crowd of other sorcerers streaming out of the classrooms, you and Suguru Geto stood out as high school sweethearts. You were inseparable, sharing laughs, secrets, and dreams of a future together. Your friends always snickered about when you would marry and have kids. Gojo claimed he would love to see a mini version of yourself and… well, his best friend.

Years passed, and true to the bets, you and Suguru were married in a small, intimate ceremony surrounded by friends and loved ones. The months that followed were filled with joy and love, building a life together that you had once only dreamed of.

But life has a way of taking unexpected turns. As Suguru delved deeper into the world of curses and his cursed technique, his views began to shift. He started to question the very fabric of the world, why he should risk his life to save his and yours, just because of some dumb curses humans create by bringing evil into this world.

"Suguru, what's happening to you?" you asked one evening, your voice stern with concern. He had been distant lately, his once warm eyes now cold and calculating.

"I'm becoming something greater," he replied, his tone flat and emotionless but his face was displaying a sophisticated smirk. "A savior for the sorcerers of this world."

"W-what do you mean?" you asked. "What about the plans we made before getting married?"

Suguru turned to you, a flicker of the old him flashing in his eyes at the memories before it disappeared with a tilt of his head to the side. "We were just kids, babe," he said, almost dismissively with a smile. "Those were dreams of a different time. Ever since I stopped relating to the jujutsu society and more with people of our kind, I finally understand the real meaning of this world and us in it."

“I don’t mind, it takes time, Suguru.”

“You and I went from one kiss to getting married and you think I wouldn’t do this for our world? Our kind? For us?!”

His words cut deep, a painful reminder of the widening chasm between you. Despite your attempts to reach him, Suguru continued down his dark path, growing more entangled in his cult and his delusions of grandeur. The man you had fallen in love with seemed to vanish, replaced by a stranger who saw himself as a legendary figure, destined to reshape the world.

One night, after another heated argument, you woke up startled from another bad dream. He stood before you, a shadow of his former self. "I'm doing this for us, for a better world," he insisted.

He used to think you were better safe than starry-eyed. But you have never felt aglow—never before and never since.

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face unconsciously. "No, Suguru. You're doing this for yourself. You're not the man I married."

He paused, looking at you with a mixture of anger and sadness. "Maybe you're right. But it's too late to change now."

The anguish in his voice was almost too much to bear. You reached out, hoping to find a trace of the boy you once knew, but you couldn’t touch him, every time he felt even farther away from you.

"Suguru, please," you whispered, your voice breaking. "We can still fix this. We can go back to how things were."

He shook his head slowly. "No, we can't. We've come too far. But remember what I said last time? I will never let this get in the way of yo—of us. You’re the love of my life.”

His words echoed in the empty space between you, a final, bitter nail in the coffin of your once bright future. As you blinked and gained full consciousness after waking up, you felt a part of yourself break, knowing that the man you loved was lost to a darkness you couldn't understand or see.

And yet, here you were, standing alone in the ruins of what once was, clutching the shards of a dream that had shattered beyond repair. The emptiness inside you grew, consuming the remnants of hope you clung to, leaving behind an ache that seemed to echo in the hollow spaces of your heart.

He was gone, but his ghost lingered, a painful reminder of the love that was and the love that could never be again.

He wasn’t there anymore, was he?

Holy ghost, he told you he was the love of your life. 

About a million times.

Years later, as you stood alone in the quiet of your home, now a dorm back in the school buildings as you decided to work for those sorcerers who started feeling like your loved one, you reflected on the boy you had once loved and the man he had become. The memories of your high school days seemed like a distant dream, a time when you were just kids, full of hope and promise.

The room was dimly lit, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Your breaths and moans mingled, hot and desperate, as Gojo's lips traced a path down your neck while humping his hard cock on the slippery sweet cunt of yours. His touch was familiar, yet foreign, as if you were trying to grasp a memory that slipped through your fingers like sand.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to be swept away in the moment. You could feel Gojo's need in the way he whispered your name, like he was asking for permission for something, or… someone. His voice, usually so confident and teasing, held a whine that made your heart ache with a confusing blend of longing and sorrow.

His hands roamed over your body with a practiced ease, yet every touch felt like a plea, a silent question of whether this could ever be enough. His lips traced familiar paths down your neck and across your collarbone, igniting sparks that threatened to consume you whole. 

Once he finally thrust inside you, both of you moaned out loud and made you open your eyes with a blurry sight, contemplating his dark hair falling on your face while he moved within you. A feeling of completeness invaded your tummy as you whimpered when he touched that spot inside of you.

“Please,” you whispered, but it sounded like a desperate call to the ghost of your past. The reality of the present and the memory of the past blurred, creating a disorienting whirlpool of emotions. “I got it baby… just– Mhm-I”  The touch felt so good and… right. You lost yourself in the feeling as tears started drowning your eyes in a mix of emotions.

Gojo's grip tightened as he felt your tears, his whispered name of yours almost a chant, a plea wrapped in longing and regret. The confusion of your feelings deepened—did he really say your name?

You looked back at him, his cold but reassuring black purplish eyes invading the light coming from the lamp as it was the only thing that shined for you. The way his hair fell, the curve of his lips as he groaned, it all felt too familiar and too alien at once. Your climax and his were getting closer, moans escalating in volume as you both sought a release that felt more like an escape.

When your impressionist paintings of Heaven turned out to be fakes, it was as if the vibrant colors of your love had faded into a monochrome nightmare. You had been sold a get-love-quick scheme, and the ink bled into a mess of confusion and heartache.

As you finally reached your high with a shared kiss, Gojo cleaned you up in silence and gave you a water bottle. It was over. You lay there, entwined in Gojo’s arms, feeling his hair cover a part of his chest as you leaned down your head on it.

When you woke up, the morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the room. You were naked, tangled in the sheets, Gojo's arm still draped over you. The events of the night before replayed in your mind, and the stark reality hit you like a punch to the gut. It hadn't been him; it was never him.

You had been digging up the past, trying to revive a love that was long dead. The realization washed over you, cold and unforgiving. You should've let it stay buried. The feelings you were trying to resurrect were entombed with the boy you once loved, and no amount of closeness with Gojo could bring them back to life.

The night had been a cruel reminder that some ghosts could never be laid to rest, and the void left by his absence was one that Gojo could never fill.

As you stared out at the morning light coming through the window, you knew that you had to find a way to move forward, even if it meant leaving the past behind. The touch of Gojo's arms around you, once comforting, now felt like chains binding you to memories you could never escape. The warmth of his body next to yours only highlighted the cold emptiness within, a void that grew larger with every passing moment.

The room, now bathed in the soft glow of dawn, felt like a cage. Each shadow seemed to whisper the name of the boy you had lost, each ray of light a painful reminder of a future that would never be. You could still feel the echo of his touch on your skin, a ghostly caress that lingered long after the night had ended.

Gojo stirred beside you, his arm tightening around your waist in a sleepy embrace. You glanced back at him, his serene expression a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within you. He had tried to fill the void, to be the light in your darkness, but the shadows of the past were too strong, too overwhelming.

You gently extricated yourself from his grasp, moving silently to avoid waking him. As you stood by the window, the first rays of sunlight breaking through the clouds, you felt a tear slip down your cheek. It was a tear for the love you had lost, for the boy who had once been your world, and for the man who now lay beside you, trying to pick up the pieces of a shattered heart.

The realization was stark and unforgiving: no matter how much you tried to move forward, the past would always be a part of you, a haunting reminder of what could have been. And as the morning light washed over you, you knew that the journey ahead would be long and painful, but it was a path you had to walk alone.

With a deep breath, you turned away from the window, determination settling in your heart. The ghosts of the past would always linger, but you had to find a way to live with them, to find peace in the midst of the storm. And maybe, just maybe, you would find a way to heal.

“Suguru,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper, “promise me something.”

Suguru’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his eyes reflecting the last rays of the setting sun. “Anything,” he replied, his tone sincere and tender.

“Promise me you’ll never put anyone or anything above us,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “That we’ll always come first.”

Suguru took your hands in his, his touch warm and reassuring. “I’ll never leave,” he said, his voice unwavering. “Nothing and no one will ever come between us. You’re my everything.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you, his words wrapping around your heart like a protective shield. His lips curved into a gentle smile, and he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I promise,” he murmured. “I’ll always be here for you. We’re in this together.”

The moment felt eternal, a promise etched in the quiet of the twilight. As you nestled against him, the world outside seemed to vanish, leaving only the certainty of Suguru’s words and the warmth of his embrace. You closed your eyes, letting the peaceful promise settle deep within you, trusting that no matter what challenges lay ahead, his commitment would remain steadfast.

In that perfect, fleeting moment, you believed with all your heart that Suguru’s promise was unbreakable.

The memories of his promises, once a source of solace, now felt like daggers, each one twisting deeper into your heart. “I’ll never leave,” he had promised. And yet, here you were, alone, with the emptiness where his presence used to be. The truth was inescapable: Suguru had left, and his promises had been nothing more than comforting words, hollow and unfulfilled.

The room seemed to close in on you, the silence amplifying the ache in your chest. You could still feel the ghost of his touch, the warmth of his embrace, but it was all a cruel illusion, a mirage that had vanished with his departure. “Never mind,” you said to yourself in a breathless chuckle, trying to hide the pain your chest felt, the realization hitting you with a cold, harsh clarity. All those promises were just words—a fleeting comfort that had crumbled to dust.

You buried your face in your hands, tears streaming down your cheeks, each one a testament to the love you had lost. The future you had once envisioned with Suguru was nothing more than a shattered dream, a vision that had dissolved into the stark reality of his absence.

The pain was almost unbearable, the weight of his betrayal settling heavily on your shoulders. You had been left to pick up the pieces, to grapple with the knowledge that the love you had cherished was now a ghost of the past. And as the darkness of the room closed in around you, you knew that the journey to heal from this loss would be long and fraught with heartache.

In the silence of the night, you felt the full force of Suguru’s absence, a painful truth settled within you with the weight of an unbearable burden. “Shit,” you whispered to the empty room, the words trembling on your lips as if they carried the weight of a thousand broken dreams. The room seemed to absorb your sorrow, its silence amplifying the ache in your heart. Each breath felt labored, the air thick with the heavy, oppressive realization of Suguru’s absence.

The absence of his presence was like a gaping wound that no amount of time or consolation could ever heal. His laughter, once so familiar and comforting, was now a distant echo that haunted the corners of your mind. The love you had cherished, so vibrant and full of promise, was now a ghostly whisper, a reminder of what once was but could never be again. The memories, once a source of warmth, now felt like cold, unyielding shadows that only deepened the chasm within you.

The pain was almost unbearable, each moment a torment as you faced the stark reality of Suguru’s departure. The void he left behind was a vast and insurmountable chasm, a darkness that seemed to stretch on endlessly. It was a wound so profound that no amount of time or effort could ever hope to mend it. You tried to imagine a future without him, but every thought seemed to fall short, every hope tarnished by the cruel reality of his absence.

No matter how hard you tried, you knew that the echoes of your shared past would never fully fade. The journey ahead would be marked by the persistent shadow of what you had lost. Each step forward felt weighed down by the remnants of Suguru’s memory, a constant reminder of the love that had slipped through your fingers like sand. The future you once envisioned, full of hope and promise, was now a mirage, forever out of reach.

As the darkness of the room closed in around you, you felt the full force of Suguru’s absence. The silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the warmth and intimacy that once defined your life together. The realization that the loss of him was a scar that would remain with you forever settled heavily upon you. It was a mark that no amount of time or healing could ever truly erase, a reminder that some wounds are too deep, too profound, to ever be fully healed.

In the quiet of the night, with the shadows stretching long and dark, you felt the weight of Suguru’s absence more acutely than ever. The pain was a constant companion, a relentless reminder of the love that had once been your everything but was now a haunting, unending loss. The room, filled with the echoes of what once was, bore witness to the depth of your grief, a silent testament to the enduring impact of Suguru’s departure on your heart and soul.

And as you sat in the suffocating silence, grappling with the emptiness that had consumed your world, you could only utter one final, heart-wrenching truth: “You’re the loss of my life.”

[tossacointoyourhotmess]

Lestat de Lioncourt + The Vampire Claudia

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE (1994), INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE (2022-), THE VAMPIRE CHRONICLES: THE VAMPIRE LESTAT (1985)

And I cannot say even now that I regret Claudia, that I wish I had never seen her, nor held her, nor whispered secrets to her, nor heard her laughter echoing through the shadowy gaslighted rooms of that all too human town house in which we moved amid the lacquered furniture and the darkening oil paintings and the brass flowerpots as living beings should. Claudia was my dark child, my love, evil of my evil. Claudia broke my heart.

[littlegirlinvisible]

Interview with The Vampíre (2022—)

And I cannot say even now that I regret Claudia, that I wish I had never seen her, nor held her, nor whispered secrets to her, nor heard her laughter echoing through the shadowy gaslighted rooms of that all too human town house in which we moved amid the lacquered furniture and the darkening oil paintings and the brass flowerpots as living beings should. Claudia was my dark child, my love, evil of my evil. Claudia broke my heart.

[aphroditelovesu]

Hi can I make a request of a love letters from Castlevania Yandere Vlad, Dracula tepes x gender, neutral, reader and Yandere Trevor Belmont x gender, neutral, reader and yandere Alecurd x gender, neutral, reader and I almost forgot can you make l sure that reader is human? Thank you 🙏❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Dear (Y/N),

In the endless and dark nights, where the moon reflects its light upon us, my heart, once frozen by time, finds warmth in the radiant and ephemeral presence that you are. It's as if destiny, in its mischief, brought us together, even knowing the barriers that the world imposes between us.

I am a being of the night, one who lives in the shadows and finds his shelter in the darkness. You are the light that permeates my existence, the reason why my eyes long for the sunrise.

My immortal being is enveloped by eternal loneliness, but in you, I find the promise of something deeper. A love that defies ages, that transcends the barriers between our divergent worlds.

I beg you to accept this heart immersed in darkness, ready to beat to the rhythm of your light. Allow me to be your guardian, your companion on this uncertain journey.

With eternal love,

Vlad.

My love,

I write this letter in the hope that it will find its way to you, just as my soul always finds yours, despite the darkness that surrounds us. Amid the endless battles against the creatures of the night, it is you who illuminates my heart.

Each night, when the cloak of darkness spreads over us, it is your image that guides me, bringing light to my dark days. Your smile is more radiant than the sun that never dared to touch our home.

As I lift my cross against the children of darkness, your love is my strongest protection, an impenetrable shield against the claws of evil. I feel fortunate to share my journey with you, a beacon of humanity in a world steeped in darkness.

Accept these words as an oath, an eternal commitment to protect and love you in the midst of the darkness. For as long as there is a breath of life in my being, your love will be my anchor in this hellish world.

All my love,

Trevor Belmont.

My sweet love,

I write these words with a heart full of emotions that I can barely contain. From the moment our paths crossed, my life changed in ways I could never have imagined. You brought light to the darkest corners of my existence, dispelling the darkness that consumed me for so long.

It is true that I am a being of the night, a dhampir whose destiny is marked by a nature that many consider threatening. Yet in your presence, I find a peace that goes beyond the barriers between our worlds. Your smile is the sun that illuminates my eternal darkness, and your understanding and acceptance make me feel human again.

I know the road before us is filled with challenges and obstacles that many do not understand. But together, I believe we can transcend the differences that separate us. I promise to protect you with all the strength I possess, even if it means fighting against my own being.

Every beat of my heart, although silent and dead, is a testimony to the deep love I have for you. Even if eternity separates us, know that your name will always be whispered in the most secret corners of my soul.

With all my love,

Alucard.

[renthony]

hey!! i am genuinely curious about how the catholic church helped implement the hays code, would you be able to tell me more/do you have any good reading material about it? thanks so much!!

This has been sitting in my inbox for aaaaaages, because I want to do it justice! It's actually a big facet of my research project that I'm going to go into much, much, much more depth on, but here's the short(er) summary:

The foundational text of the Hays Code was written by two Catholics: a Jesuit priest named Father Daniel Lord, and a man named Martin Quigley, who was the editor of the Motion Picture Herald. They grounded their guidelines in Catholic morality and values, based on the idea that art could be a vehicle for evil by negatively influencing the actions of those who view it.

The original list of guidelines written by Lord and Quigley was adapted into the Production Code, popularly known as the "Hays Code" after William Hays, the president of the Production Code Administration that enforced it. As president of the PCA, William Hays appointed a staunch Catholic man called Joseph Breen to enforce the code. Breen enforced it aggressively, confiscating the original reels of films he deemed inappropriate and against the Code. Many lost films from this era are only "lost" because Joseph Breen personally had them destroyed. Some were rediscovered later, but many were completely purged from existence.

When Breen died in 1965, Variety magazine wrote, "More than any single individual, he shaped the moral stature of the American moral picture." He was a very, very big deal, and was directly responsible for censoring more films than I could even begin to list here.

In 1937, Olga J. Martin, Joseph Breen’s secretary, said, “To an impoverished country which had become religious and serious-minded, the sex attitudes of the post-war period became grotesquely unreal and antedated. The public at large wanted to forget its own derelictions of the ‘gay twenties.' The stage was set for the moral crusade.”

In 1936, once the Code was being fully enforced on filmmakers by Joseph Breen, a letter was issued by the office of Pope Pius XI that praised Breen's work, and encouraged all good Catholics to support film censorship.

The letter read in part, "From time to time, the Bishops will do well to recall to the motion picture industry that, amid the cares of their pastoral ministry, they are under obligation to interest themselves in every form of decent and healthy recreation because they are responsible before God for the moral welfare of their people even during their time of leisure. Their sacred calling constrains them to proclaim clearly and openly that unhealthy and impure entertainment destroys the moral fibre of a nation. They will likewise remind the motion picture industry that the demands which they make regard not only the Catholics but all who patronize the cinema."

Basically, this letter was a reminder from the Papal authority that bishops and priests are supposed to stop people from engaging with "lewd" or "obscene" art. That meant supporting things like the Hays Code.

So, to summarize: the original text of the Hays Code was written by two Catholics, including a priest. The biggest and most aggressive censor under the Code was a Catholic man, who had the full support and approval of the Pope at the time. Good Catholics were called en-masse to support the Hays Code, because it was intentionally written to line up with Catholic teachings.

There's a lot more to say on the subject, and if you're interested in reading more on your own, I recommend the book "Pre-Code Hollywood: Sex, Immorality, and Insurrection in American Cinema, 1930-1934," by Thomas Doherty. There are plenty other sources I can recommend on request, but that's a solid place to start.

(And if I can toot my own horn, I'm intending to do a video lecture series all about American film censorship and the Hays Code. Pledging to my Patreon helps keep me fed and housed while I do all this damn research.)

[asherheed]

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡ secret little rendezvous / xiao x gn!reader, 4.4 lantern rite spoilers!

xiao waits for you by the cliff nearby pervases's temple.

the night is cool against his skin and as he gazes at the sky, watching the bright glow of xiao lanterns and the stars, he pictures your existence and smiles at the thought of your likeness to the ones littering the night.

he wonders for a moment, if you weren't going to show up. his pessimism almost always gets the best of him, and despite the evening merriment, even his demons refuse to rest.

eyes closing as the wind caresses his face, he feels the darkness inside him creep at the corners of his mind, seeking to cease the fluttering of his heart at the thought of you.

give in, the chorus of evil voices whisper in his ear. give in and be free.

and he almost does, if not for the sound of barbatos's flute; almost does, if not for the memory of a fond dream where he can dance without guilt amid a sea of flowers.

give in, they hum, but xiao refuses to. not when he feels your presence nearby. not when you smile at him like that and he feels his chest tighten at the sight, his lips curving softly in return.

he glances at you, illuminated by the soft, orange glow of the lantern, and forgets to breathe. his fingers brush against your skin while you both hold it and warmth travels across his body, his fingers tingling at the touch.

when you both let go of the lantern, the weight on his shoulders disappears and his mind quiets as his eyes follow the lantern flying up towards the clouds.

even though he will never be free of his shackles, this moment will eternally be embedded in his memories. the gentleness of your touch, the kindness of your smile, and your presence that makes him feel worthy of being treated tenderly, xiao vows to cherish them.

no matter what.

[persepinas]

And I cannot say even now that I regret Claudia, that I wish I had never seen her, nor held her, nor whispered secrets to her, nor heard her laughter echoing through the shadowy gaslighted rooms of that all too human town house in which we moved amid the lacquered furniture and the darkening oil paintings and the brass flowerpots as living beings should. Claudia was my dark child, my love, evil of my evil. Claudia broke my heart.

And on a warm sultry night in the spring of the year 1860, she rose up to settle the score. She enticed me, she trapped me, and she plunged a knife over and over again into my drugged and poisoned body, until almost every drop of the vampiric blood gushed out of me before my wounds had the precious few seconds in which to heal.

I don't blame her. It was the sort of thing I might have done myself.

And those delirious moments will never be forgotten by me, never consigned to some unexplored compartment of the mind. It was her cunning and her will that laid me low as surely as the blade that slashed my throat and divided my heart. I will think on those moments every night for as long as I go on, and of the chasm that opened under me, the plunge into mortal death that was nearly mine. Claudia gave me that.