#Because I would be putting on a voice that isn't natural to me (except in particular circumstances) even though it's my mother tongue

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 38: Alexander's Sire

Prev > Masterlist > Next

September 1925

TW: Captivity, mind control, mentions of abuse and murder

The fireplace crackled cheerfully as Oliver's anxiety rose. "Your sire is the one who turned you from human to vampire, right, sir?"

"Yes. And in the process, a connection is established from sire to sired. A vampire's sire can communicate telepathically with their spawn, and a sired must carry out their sire's direct commands. In some ways, I'm also a thrall, of sorts."

"And your sire is dangerous, sir?"

"Dangerous isn't even the half of it," said Alexander. "Are you certain you wish to hear it? It will cause you nothing but anxiety over a problem you won't be able to solve."

"I'm quite used to anxiety over problems I can't solve, sir." Oliver knew very well that not knowing what this mysterious sire might do would drive him to insanity with fear regardless.

"I was chosen because of my lineage. My sire believed that I would have the power to be a great vampire lord. Enthrall a whole manor's worth of humans, bend vampire society to my aims, as he enjoys doing -- except I would be firmly under his thumb. A useful general in his insatiable quest for power and perfection."

"You don't seem to be doing that, sir."

"No, indeed. I was born with power, as he hoped, but I resisted his influence more than he expected. I've largely secluded myself and devoted my life to studies, rather than enslaving humans and pursuing my sire's aims. That's why I only keep one thrall, as a general rule, instead of a mansion full."

Oliver felt he was beginning to see the picture. "And your sire is not pleased with that state of affairs, Master?"

"Naturally, he isn't. He uses his connection to torment me with nightmares, intrusive thoughts... commands I don't wish to carry out..." 

Something clicked in Oliver's mind, gears turning despite the slowness imposed on him by enthrallment. "You..." He almost didn't want to say it, but he did ask to know the truth. "Were you forced to hurt your thralls, sir?"

Alexander looked haunted, his expression saying everything that needed to be said. "I did warn you against asking questions you would not like the answer to."

"Are you... were you... did he make you kill..." Oliver fought down the urge to flee from the room right then and there. "What are you going to do to me? Are you going to --"

"No," said Alexander firmly.

"How can you know that, sir? If your sire can force you at any time --"

"He won't. Not with you."

"I don't -- " Any semblance of calm had evaporated, as a far more primal instinct was rising in Oliver. "Sir, I don't want to die. Please don't kill me, sir, please --"

"Quiet, Oliver," said Alexander. "Be quiet now." 

Oliver's sensible panic began to dissipate against his will, as the command swallowed his mind and he slumped against Alexander. "Please, sir..." he said miserably.

"My sire will not kill you, nor will he make me kill you. I'm certain of that," he said, pulling Oliver close and running his fingers through his hair. "You're too..."

"Too what, sir?"

"...Too perfect. Obedient, docile, and exactly to his tastes. No, he'll certainly keep you alive, that I'm sure of."

As scared as Oliver was of dying, he didn't like the implications in his master's voice. There were many fates worse than death. He thought he'd escaped one at the auction house, but had he actually found himself in a worse trap? "What will he do with me, then, sir?"

His master thought for a long time, so long that Oliver feared he would not answer at all. "You'll be fine, Oliver," he said. "I'm going to make sure of it. I have a plan, I think." He pushed a lock of hair from Oliver's face, looking intently into his eyes. "You're stronger than you believe yourself to be. You may be the thrall that can break the cycle."

"Sir -- Master, I don't understand --"

"But that's putting far too much on you. I'm going to have to find a way to protect you permanently. To protect us both. That's all there is to it. I've been getting closer, but..."

Oliver leaned into his master's cold touch, craving that protection even through his fear. "So is that the reason, then, why you didn't want to take another thrall, sir? Because you were searching for a way to protect them?"

"Yes, that's more or less the reason. I thought I could find a way to defy my master before claiming you, and then we would both have a much happier existence. Unfortunately, leaving you to get bought by Jameson would have been no better for you. His torments are relentless, and your mind would have been destroyed at the outset. At least I can do my best to give you a comfortable life when my sire's attention is turned elsewhere."

Oliver nodded. Those were the only choices, weren't they? Be purchased by Alexander or by Jameson. Even now that he knew more of the danger lurking in his master's home, he still preferred Alexander without question. The prospect of nebulous future torment was nothing compared to the certain promise of memory erasure and illiteracy.

But were those truly the only two choices...?

Something was bubbling in Oliver's chest, something fighting to get free of the nets of control placed on his mind. 

He could let me go.

No -- he tried to push the traitorous thought from his mind. He knew how much his master needed him. How could he think...

He's going to hurt me. He might even kill me. And if my master doesn't, his sire will.

Surely he wouldn't actually...

If he were an honest man, if he cared about my wellbeing, he would let me go.

Oliver felt himself tremble from the conflict inside his head, self-preservation forcing his mind out of its fog. That's right, vampires had kidnapped him for money and blood. How had he pushed that so far from his thoughts? Was his master really any different from them? Didn't he admit to keeping Oliver for his own selfish needs?

If he truly cared, he would let Oliver go, or spirit him away so that he would be safe.

But Alexander clearly wasn't planning on doing that. He had to go himself. He had to find a way to escape this vampire and this manor while he was still awake, before the thrall took him whole. Even now, just thinking of such a betrayal was almost impossible.

"Oliver, quiet."

Oliver's hands dropped from his face as artificial tranquility washed over him.

"I need to hear what's going through your mind," said his master. "I promise I won't be angry with you, even if it is terrible. Even if you wanted to kill me."

"No -- no, sir, I wouldn't -- " 

"Even so." 

His master gently stroked his temples, humming something under his breath. Oliver felt himself sinking into a daze. "No, please. Please don't do this." The song filled his mind, coaxing it back into a trance, tunneling his focus onto what Alexander wanted. The truth...

"If I'm in danger here, sir," he said, the words being drawn out of him as if by a string, "why don't you let me go?"

Alexander drew back, and Oliver felt both the sharp pang of his sudden absence and the words he'd just said. "I'm sorry, sir! I'm so sorry I thought that -- I'm not going to try to escape, sir, I promise -- "

His master let out a loud, mirthless laugh. "Let you go. Yes. Yes, indeed. Yes, I should do that, shouldn't I? Just let you go. It's all so simple."

Oliver looked at him with pleading eyes. "...You would...?" he said.

"My sire already knows that I've bought a new and most delectable thrall, thanks to the public display of it I had to make at the auction house. Do you think he would simply let you go?" said Alexander, his voice chilling. "Or do you think he'd hunt us down and make sport of us both?"

"He would do that, sir?"

"He'd do that and worse. At least here in my mansion I can afford you all the protection I can muster, and work towards us both being free of him," said Alexander.

Oliver slowly nodded, his conviction fading. Yes, here in his master's mansion, that's where he could be safe.

His master began softly stroking his hair once more, allowing Oliver to rest against his chest. "I've troubled you too much with this conversation. You need to relax. You are safe here."

"But --" Oliver's mind struggled against the warm undertow of Alexander's soothing voice. 

"You need to relax," said Alexander again, his voice deep and low. "Relax, and allow me to take care of you. You will trust me. I will not harm you of my own free will."

All of the conditioning was tugging at Oliver's mind. He wanted to trust Alexander so much. He wanted to sink back under the waves of enthrallment. He wanted it all to be so simple -- that he could have his master and his books and his little comforts, and feed his master when called upon, and not have to concern himself with threats. 

But he couldn't help but imagine Alexander's face twisting, the gentle vampire becoming the terrifying monster he'd feared, and shuddered.

"Relax. Be calm. Your worries will not help you. This problem is for me to solve." Alexander's voice was like a sweet lullaby. "Let your anxiety go, feel it fade, fall back into the warm ocean of obedience and bliss. Be quiet, Oliver."

He was right. Worrying about it would not help. And he was safe here, at least for now, here in the warm library with the smell of old books and the crackling fire. He let himself relax, let the nightmare visions fade from his mind. "Yes, master," he said, tension leaving his muscles.

His master began to hum, a tune that further drained Oliver of his tension, a song to ease his fear and help him relax. There was only the briefest of struggles in Oliver's mind before he welcomed it in.

He was safe, wasn't he? He felt so safe, here in the library by the fire. His master wouldn't harm him. His master would protect him.

"Good, Oliver," said Alexander, and the praise made Oliver feel pleasantly fuzzy. "And I want you to know -- I will not be setting you free. I will never be setting you free."

Sinking deeply into Alexander's power, his sudden, desperate need to escape from just a few minutes ago now felt so distant. "You won't, sir?"

"Your blood and your company are both too appealing to ever let you go. I'd be a fool to allow my sire to ruin you, and I've had enough regrets in my long life without adding that one to it." Alexander stroked Oliver's hair so gently. 

"But... but your sire..." The last scraps of his sensible fear were slipping from his grasp, his mind fogging. "What if..."

"You're perfect, Oliver, don't you see? The perfect thrall in every way. I didn't think I would ever have you, but now that I do... I need you. You felt my need, didn't you?"

Oliver remembered it oh so clearly, the moment when their thoughts had mingled and he felt the strength flowing back into his master. He'd felt so wanted, so needed, so helpful and useful. He'd do just about anything to feel that again. "Yes, sir, I do." His master stroked his cheek tenderly, and Oliver leaned into the cold touch, letting his eyes fall shut.

"That's why I'm going to protect you the best I can. I swear on my grave I will. I won't fail this time."

It shouldn't be comforting. There should be nothing comforting about one vampire vowing to shield you from another, in order to protect the blood he craved. But Oliver wanted to believe, and his master's power made it easy.

It felt so natural to lean in closer to Alexander, so right when he fell softly into his master's lap, so comfortable as his master ran his hands through his hair and began to hum. There was something in the song making his eyes droop and his thoughts stop, but he couldn't mind being lulled asleep like this. Everything felt so cloudy...

"I think, perhaps, we could use something to lift the gloom," said Alexander. "Would you join me in the music room, allow me to play for you?"

Oliver's eyes opened, turning to look at his master. "That sounds lovely, sir."

Prev > Masterlist > Next

Next week: Fitz's life changes forever.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot

[kerubimcrepin]

Liveblog - Dofus, livre 1 : Julith [PART 23]

I think after this it's kinda natural that Joris will never ever put his trust into anyone that isn't Kerubim or Atcham ever again.

I am once again asking why Kerubim has these books and what was he doing at devil's sacrament.

He's never beating those necromancy allegations.

There's a canonical name for the evil-ass looking huppermages.

Once again, this is Them in Dofus 2 when they reveal to Joris that they framed Julith or something. (source: my beautiful mind)

The Dessous comic implies that Marline bought this stuff from Kerubim which is so funny. It's beautiful how little of a shit the man gives for the safety of others.

I may not like Khan in his present form, as a macho gobbowler, but I like the idea of him. Joris, and his little "ghnhnn I have to do what's right, I have sacrifice my happinesss for other people" complex needs someone like that in his life who will buy him alcohol and help him run away from home when he's 14-16.

I'm sure if given another movie, or a show, Ankama's plan would have been to make Khan more likeable. He seems like a ride-or-die friend.

A scene ago he was in Julith's arms. So, she found it important to get him into the arms of this dofus-powered doll. Personally, I like to think that he started thrashing and maybe even bit her.

What did she lie about though? Liking him? Not wanting the Dofus? Being a competent person and not a fuck-up? (I love Bakara and say all of this with affection)

Once again, I empathize, that Julith was gloating about this to Bakara. That she doesn't really care about Joris (and by extension, Joris's feelings.)

She is killing a thousand people, who did nothing to her. These are civilians who came to watch a sports match. How many mothers are here with their sons and daughters who just wanted to look at their idols? If Joris never had Grougalorasalar's soul, if he and Kerubim never learned of her plan, THEY would have been among these viewers.

Julith is a very interesting character because she's ruthless, she has no morals, absolutely no understanding or compassion for others, — even Bakara or her own son, — and yet she is driven by love almost entirely. And that's her one redeeming quality.

But also — does it really change things, when you're driven by love to kill a thousand innocent people? To ruin your son's life? Because it doesn't really change much, to me...

I think there's a tragedy in that. She does love the idea of Joris. She loves what she sees of him, his voice, his face, and eyes. If she learned more about him, she'd probably love the parts he didn't show too. She'd love to see how he grew up.

She'd love how committed he is to those he loves. She'd love his ruthless march towards what he thinks is right that will allow him to close his eyes as he does unforgivable things. The only thing she would dislike is his loyalty to Bonta.

But the reverse will never be true. Joris can become a warmonger, a dictator, and a war criminal, but he would loathe to place his needs above those of others. He wouldn't do horrible things if he didn't think it was for the greater good of mankind.

As a 600yo man, Joris has lived through two apocalypses, — and yet people like Nox and Julith will lose 1-4 loved ones and go insane, killing people. I doubt he feels much for her, except for disgust.

Their friendship is so important to me. But also, somewhere out there, Tatak is crying.

I think one of the great tragedies of Joris's character is that he is doomed to break his own moral code, slowly but surely.

One must imagine Joris Jurgen living happily with the blood of innocents on his hands, because the alternative is more haunting.

One of her main issues is that she projects the actions of a few onto literally everyone in Bonta. Which is a very crazy fucking reach.

But I understand how she arrived at this reach to begin with: I don't think she was ever happy, before Jahash, and when she finally was happy, for once in her entire life, they took even that away from her.

You wanna know who else in this scene is going to have only 2 people who give meaning to his life? Jo—— [I am forcefully restrained by the police]

I just really like pointing out the similarities between Joris and Julith, — and the way these similarities underline their differences.

Once again: she doesn't give a shit about anyone's opinion. She is betting everything onto a nebulous future where Joris and Jahash and Bakara forgive and forget everything she did, and they live as a happy Fambly (in Brakmar, because that's a GOOD city and they will LOVE to move there, after being no longer welcome in Bonta due to the 1000 dead people.)

(Guy whose very emotional and Julith and Joris voice) guys I think she's starting to realize that their familial relationship is going to be unfixable.

Joris and everyone present here are quite aware that stopping this will kill one of them.

They are also very aware that one dead person is better than a thousand.

[perpetualexistence]

Coils and Toils

Alenoah Week Day 3: Role Swap / TDWT Ending Rewrite

I decided to use woah-i-am-here's roleswap Alenoah for my funky little AU for today. The personalities are based mostly on their AU, and most of Alejandro's backstory is as well. Noah's I took more creative liberties with. It was a bit hard to translate that one over with this being a naga AU.

Because this is me, I couldn't help but make this a tiny bit dark at the end. So I'm just going to put a content warning for murder here to be safe.

Alejandro and Noah are fine! ...Someone else, not so much.

Alejandro is forced to go on his family's annual hunting trip. It's a week-long 'bonding' activity. He really doesn't care for it. He knows it's just an excuse for his parents to brag about traveling the world and conquering nature. José always turns it into this big competition that no one asked for, gets their parents praise, and rubs it into Alejandro's face. It's predictable, it's annoying, and it's bound to drive Alejandro up a wall.

The instant they split up, Alejandro focuses on putting as much distance between himself and the rest of his family. He's not going to hunt a damn thing. He'l just have 'bad luck'. It's an excuse he's used before, but it's not like they can truly make him do anything. He turns off his walkie talkie, the only thing that works in these godforsaken woods, because otherwise he'll have to hear his brother incessantly praising himself for each kill he bags. He has a bag of supplies, GPS included, and a gun. He'll be fine.

As he walks through the woods, he starts to notice strange markings on the ground. He'd mistake them for signs of animals having passed by. Except this looks wider than something like a bear having pushed through some brush. He climbs up a tree to get a better vantage point. From here, he can notice that it looks more like something large was dragged through the woods. The concerning part is it was dragged continuously. As if whatever was doing the dragging was having no issue in doing so. Despite the thing being as wide as train tracks.

That's when he heard the rustling. He couldn't tell where it was coming from, but it was getting louder.

Climbing down would attract too much attention. He could only cling against the tree as tightly as he could, and hope whatever it was didn't look up.

"Oh. You're new." said the voice that came from his right.

He dared to turn his head. He met the gaze of two slitted pupils.

Alejandro was over 12 meters off the ground and he was directly meeting the gaze of another.

He looked down to see the torso of the giant he was now looking at connected not to legs, but to a snake's tail.

He's grateful his instinct was to cling tighter to the tree, and not to loosen his grip.

After Alejandro successfully doesn't faint, the two get into proper greetings. Noah's incredibly polite, and is clearly doing everything in his power to make himself come off as careful about the height difference as possible. He's controlled in every action he takes.

...Too controlled for someone currently claiming that he's lived by himself in the woods his entire life. If he had, then he probably wouldn't know to control his volume or have anything resembling manners.

Alejandro calls him out on this, which shocks Noah for a bit. Not only that Alejandro found him out, but also that he'd have the courage despite Noah's size advantage. Alejandro realizes he might have screwed up hard, except Noah laughs and lets some of his mask slip.

He tells something closer to the truth this time. He's from the fae realm, and got cursed to look like this. He's trapped in these woods, serving as its guardian. Meaning he does need to know why Alejandro's trespassing.

Now it's Alejandro's turn to start lying his ass off. He knows about the fae thanks to reading, but he has no idea how much is true and how much isn't. He doesn't know what answer is acceptable, what answer will get him killed, and he doesn't know if Noah can read people.

He admits to being on a hunting trip, but he hadn't killed anything yet as his priority was finding somewhere to make camp. He didn't know he was trespassing, and wants to ask proper permission to stay in the woods for a week. He says nothing about the rest of his family because he knows that they've certainly killed animals by now.

Noah chooses to believe him. And because Alejandro did ask nicely (though with a bit of sarcasm since he couldn't help himself), Noah will let him stay. But he's only allowed to hunt what he needs to in order to survive. In return, Noah will promise not to hurt him. He'll even make a fae bargain, so both are bound to keep to their deal.

Alejandro doesn't really have much choice but to accept. Not that he planned to do any hunting anyways, but he has to go with this now or risk Noah catching wise. Noah lets him know that if Alejandro needs anything, Noah'll stay around here to make himself easier to find.

So Alejandro is allowed to leave to 'go find a place to make camp'. Which means returning to his family's camp and checking that Noah isn't following him. At least he's too loud to get away with sneaking up on the human.

Still, now Alejandro is going to have to convince his family not to go near the area Noah is in. He can't tell them Noah exists. They'll think he's finally lost it. Instead, he settles for committing to heading in that direction when his family splits apart to hunt each morning.

He doesn't have to actually go anywhere near Noah's slithering grounds. He just needs everyone else to think he's going there.

...Yet, Noah has been the most interesting thing that's happened to him in quite a while. The only other person who has proven to be an intellectual match to Alejandro is Jose. And he's insufferable. Noah is dangerous, certainly, but he isn't hard to be around. So long as Alejandro is careful about what he says. Besides, if he can keep Noah occupied, then he'll know that the rest of his family is safe.

This has absolutely nothing to do with how attractive Noah is or how his laugh made Alejandro melt like butter.

So he goes back to Noah the next day and says he wants to know more about Noah.

"Sure, I'm an open book." Noah replied. "You're as open as a mouse trap." Alejandro retorted.

This gets another laugh out of Noah, and the two begin to bond.

Over time Noah reveals that he hates the outdoors. He misses being small enough to read in peace. Not that he even has any reading material on him. But Alejandro does since his original plan had been to find a spot in the forest to read the entire time. So he pulls out one of his books and offers to read it aloud to Noah.

"Is that the only one you have?"

"I thought you were desperate enough to read anything."

"I just want to know what my options are. I don't want to read anything trashy if you're holding out on me."

This would be enough to make Alejandro snicker at how spoiled Noah was acting. He might have been imagining things, but he swore he saw the tip of Noah's tail flicker in delight at the sound.

Alejandro found himself going from keeping a respectable distance from Noah to leaning against the naga's coils.

Alejandro would begin to open up about his family. How he tires of playing second fiddle to Jose, and how his parents do everything in their power to encourage him. They put on a show for the world to see that Alejandro is 'lucky' enough to be a part of. He tried to show Jose up, once upon a time. But loss after loss whittled away at him. Until there was nothing left but a bitter, snarky teenager who would rather stay in his room than deal with anybody. Still with the knowledge of how to charm and fight, but none of the motivation.

It would lead to Noah opening up about his own family. He came from a line of powerful fae. Having eight siblings in the fae realm meant they were constantly fighting for everything. He was last in line to inherit anything by birthright. If he wanted anything, he'd have to fight for it. As the youngest, Noah could never hope to win in a battle of strength. He adapted to winning battles of wit instead.

He didn't care that he had to fight dirty. He never got a fair chance in a fight with his siblings. Why should he return the favor? The only way he'd beat his siblings is if he performed just a minor coup, so he did. Or well, he tried. He underestimated his parents' ability to catch on to his tricks.

So they cursed him. "You'll live as you truly are in the wild until you learn the sanctity of a life." Rather shitty of them to exile their own child instead of acknowledging the environment they created in the first place. But, oh well. Noah's here now. ...and it feels surprisingly refreshing to let his guard down and tell someone else this.

Alejandro is reminded that he should in no way shape or form trust someone who tried 'a minor coup' on his own parents. ...But it is nice to have Noah agree that Alejandro's parents and brother are in fact terrible. He'd been around so many sycophants to the Burromuerto name, he thought he must be the mad one for thinking ill of them.

Sadly though, the week is up before they know it. Alejandro is going to have to go back home, and miss his new boyfriend. Alejandro finishes reading the last book he brought over so Noah can have a proper ending. At this point, he's grown so comfortable with Noah that he's nestled in between Noah's loose coils. Noah could kill him easily anyways, so why deny himself something so warm and cozy?

By the end, Noah gifts him the largest moose he can find. It'll be rations for the road, plus the antlers will make for a good hunting trophy. He knows it's gauche but his options for giving gifts as a giant snake thing are limited.

Alejandro suspects something's up by the look in Noah's eyes, but doesn't say anything. Rejecting Noah's gift would be a terrible idea if fae work how he thinks they work. He could just bury the gift when he's far enough away from Noah. He can't imagine anything good would come from bringing this to his family.

...Yet he's so tired of them. He feels more comfortable with a stranger he's only known for a week than with his own family sitting down for dinner. That stranger could squeeze him to death without a second thought and he'd still trust Noah more than he would trust Jose not to find an excuse to shoot him in the head when he's in a mood. So you know what? Whatever happens to his family will just have to happen to them.

He takes the gift back to his family so he can actually win at something for once. Jose tries to play it off, but it is the biggest thing hunted, so that's what the Burromuertos decide to eat as their final meal here before heading out.

Alejandro, not trusting Noah, wisely waits for everyone else to eat the food first. He gets away with it because the second they take a bite, they're hooked. They're scarfing the food down like animals. He pushes his portion into the fireplace. He's grateful he did when his mother starts coughing, then gasping, then choking for air and foaming at the mouth. Soon followed by his brother, then his father.

Noah said his new body reflected his true self. Alejandro isn't surprised that means he's a venomous snake.

Noah slithers quietly behind him. He's genuinely happy that Alejandro did survive this. Because if he didn't, Alejandro wasn't the type of person Noah thought he was.

"If you hadn't found a way around it, then you weren't worth all the time and effort I put into you. And that would have been such a pity, truly."

Noah knew Alejandro was lying about being by himself the whole time, and that it was probably because his family had been hunting without his permission. Fae rules said he had to do something about it, and from how Alejandro described them, there was absolutely no reason to let them live. Alejandro getting caught in the crossfire was a calculated risk. 'Noah' couldn't harm Alejandro, but that isn't to say one of his gifts couldn't.

However, he genuinely thought he had done a great job of gaining Alejandro's trust. He believed Alejandro had no idea the gift was a trap, or at least didn't realize it until later. To find that Alejandro actually did know that the gift was tainted from the beginning, and that he still chose to give it to his family? He's delighted. Especially when Alejandro admits he's not that worked up about their deaths as he feels he should be. And when Alejandro pulls one last contigency:

Noah never gave an end condition to when he could harm Alejandro. So as long as Alejandro only hunts for food and not for sport, Noah can't cause any direct harm to him, ever.

Noah could of course try to find another work around to get rid of a final loose end. But he's much happier to offer him a place in the woods for as long as Alejandro wants. And he wants to start dating Alejandro properly. Alejandro has nowhere else to go, and he's much happier here than he's ever been. So he agrees to the home, and to being Noah's boyfriend.

Noah takes care of Alejandro, and Alejandro works on a way to break Noah free from his curse. 'A life' could just mean one person specifically after all. So if Alejandro just makes sure that person is him, he'd be set for life.

Everyone else?

Not their problem.

[lexxierave]

When Fate Intervenes- tasm!Peter Parker x Reader Part 6

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

Peter couldn't believe it. He had just saved y/n's life but it was like he was approaching a scared and wounded animal instead of a grateful citizen. It wasn't like the guy didn't deserve the beating he got. At that thought Peter turned back to the guy. Ok maybe he did go a bit overboard there.

You had no clue where in Queens you were or how to get home from where you are.

So the superhero's offer seemed like the best choice but there was no way you were just gonna show him to your front door. No you were going to keep yourself safe and make sure only you knew where you lived.

You still didn't trust him after what you just witnessed.

"Look, it's not exactly a safe neighborhood we're in." He finally spoke up.

"And who's fault is that?" You snapped back, "isn't it a hero's job to clean up the crime in areas like this?"

You were right. Peter felt guilty for the state that the city got into while he was away but he was working hard on cleaning it up and making sure it stayed that way.

"It is." He admitted sounding dejected.

"So what happened?" You questioned, your curious nature getting the best of you.

"Let me take you home and I'll tell you some of it" He tried to negotiate.

"Look, I'll let you drop me back off at the shop I came from." You huffed, finally caving. Some part of you felt bad for this man before you. There was something heavy in his voice.

"Ok. Hold on tight." He warned as he approached once more and wrapped his arm around your waist. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck.

When Peter felt you were holding on tight enough he shot a web and started swinging, he was expecting a scream or a gasp. Anything but what he got from you. You were laughing.

"This is awesome!" You exclaimed. Looking out at the city flying past you.

At the speed you were going you dated not to look forward for fear or having something fly into your eyes.

It wasn't long before you were on the rooftop next to the store. You could see the police were still there so there was no way a vigilante was going to drop you off at the door.

You scanned the area for John, hoping he was alright.

"He's probably been seen by now and is at home." The man next to you said, as if reading your mind.

"Then I believe you owe me a story." You mused, interested once more in your companion.

There was a moment of thick silence between the two of you. Neither one wanted to speak but both knew the next words spoken would be heavy.

"I lost someone close to me because I held back. So when I decided to put the mask back on I vowed not to hold back ever again." He finally admitted to you.

"That's a heavy vow to take." You finally spoke after some thought, "but what if you don't hold back on the wrong person? What if you could save someone that really just needs a hero?" You posed to him as you started walking towards the fire escape.

"I…"He started to stammer.

"Just some food for thought. Night Spider-Man." You called out as you headed down the steps to your floor.

Peter was floored. He walked to the edge of the building to try and see where you went but you were already gone.

With your word weighing on Peter's mind he headed to the other side of the building to grab one of his go-bags. He quickly changed and walked around to the front of the same building and walked inside. Peter was exhausted both mentally and emotionally.

What's worse was he still had to stay up and write a paper and y/n. 

"It's like she's everywhere now " Peter whispered to himself.

Not that he really minded, except for the kidnapping part, but he liked the provoking thoughts you had. He wished he could see more of that side of y/n during your weekly after class meetups. Though that might require Peter to be less of the "Peter" persona he has everyone thinking he is and more of the real him, the confident him with spider powers.

Peter could risk it though. Y/n was clever, if he gave too much away she could figure out he's Spider-Man. Then he didn't have a clue what she would do with the information.

He still wasn't sure if she was for him as a hero or against him.

The whole thing made Peter's head spin. But he had to get it all sorted tonight before he saw y/n again.

He couldn't let anything slip and he needed to figure out what to say to you and how to react to y/n if she told him anything. 

Would she even tell him anything? Peter wondered as he took off his suit. 

They've only talked a few times now but Peter started to feel some sort of way with y/n. Maybe it was the fact that they were both smart or maybe it was something else. 

Peter wandered around his apartment trying to come up with a solution to his problems.

He was tired but his night wasn't over yet.

You had officially given Spider-Man the slip. You had half expected him to follow you to your apartment window and come knocking or crawling through it at any moment but it never happened.

You sighed in relief. 

You had no idea what you would do if he did do any of that but you were pretty sure your Physics book you were holding at the ready to strike wasn't going to take him out.

"Oh crap." You cried out as you looked at the book you just sat down, remembering you had a paper to write on Peter Parker due tomorrow morning.

You rushed to your desk trying to try and start it but you just couldn't focus.

It was no use, your mind kept landing back to tonight's events and it definitely didn't help when you did start to focus that you were hyper focused; but not on your paper. No on your environment. So much that you could hear the slightest sound. Like your neighbor pacing above you.

From the sounds of it they either had a crazy Roomba or had some heavy thoughts of their own. Either way you figured your long night still wasn't over but it helped to know someone else was suffering with you.

Part 7

[ryan-the-dark]

Claire McCallister knows Becky Botsford is WordGirl.

I know! I know! Give me a second to explain and break this down.

In the very first episode of the series "Tobey or Consequences", Claire is shown to be intelligent enough to craft together devices to counter her son's robots.

This shows she's just as if not more intelligent than Tobey! There's the argument that could be made that Tobey made those devices but why would she make him? He would be able to program ways to short-wire them.

In the same episode, it was referenced that WordGirl calls Mrs. McCallister whenever Tobey commits crimes. Now I know this isn't much evidence, but let's say for this theory, she met Becky by now. This could be when she was suspicious because of how similar "Becky" and "WordGirl's" voice was.

If that ain't enough to convince you, maybe this will. In "By Jove You've Wrecked My Robot", Tobey tells Becky and I quote:

"And if you try to run off and turn into WordGirl, I'll use all the robots to destroy the city."

Now, if Claire's as smart as Tobey and we're using that for this theory, I'm pretty sure when she sees Becky, she'll put the pieces together in similar reasons. "The same hair color, the same skin tone, the same lips" as Tobey points out: "You and WordGirl are the same height, the same hair style and color... The same sparkingly smile. The same ruby lips..."

Now if Tobey put these pieces together, I think Claire, through enough time, could do so as well. I think the reason why she doesn't say anything is because one she has to make sure her son is punished for his crimes. And two, she respects WordGirl enough to not risk anyone who would use that information incorrectly to find out. The only reason she doesn't say anything to Sally who is her friend is because she either found out she doesn't know, think she knows and just playing an act and so acts none the wiser, or just don't want to ruin the current dynamic with the possibility that the Botsfords doesn't know. Another reason, she knows Tobey's happier around WordGirl and doesn't want him to be bothering Becky in her private life.

This is "Robo Camp", a fairly early episode, being season 2 episode 11. At this point, she was trying to push him to cease doing robot activities:

Claire: This is going to be an important trip for you, Tobey, because you’re going to learn to appreciate nature. And hopefully grow out of this silly robot phase.

Tobey: Yes, Mother. That would make sense, except that nature is a thing of the past! Technology and robots are--

Claire: TOBEY! No robots! I don’t want a repeat of what happened last summer at basketball camp... Or two summers ago at baseball camp!.. Or last, last, LAST summer at drama camp!... I mean it, Tobey! No giant robots, end of story! You need to be more independent, and learn to do things on your own!

Btw, I think the reason why they're not very close is because they don't understand each other not that she doesn't care about him or vice versa, but I won't get into that into this blog.

I can see Claire having a moment where she realizes: "Wait a minute Tobey's not happy around other kids. He's more lively around WordGirl and enjoys her company..." That type of thing. So she doesn't do much to try to stop him, not that she approves, but because she genuinely loves Tobey and values his feelings, even though she wishes he would stop with the robot attacks.

It would also explain the reason why she doesn't remove his robot privileges permanently. For people who follow abusive Claire, there's so many things to debunk this. Like in the "Talent Show Tobey" episode where she was cheering Tobey on and was genuinely proud of him until his robot destroyed the building. Given Tobey entrapped WordGirl into reading poems in this episode, you would think she wouldn't care about WordGirl. Well, do remember that it's not like Claire knows. She just thought WordGirl agreed, and was happy that Tobey was doing something she'd viewed as productive and WordGirl was kind enough to help him out.

(More happy Claire please! 💯💯💯)

In the "Guess Who's Coming To Thanksgiving Dinner" episode, she was trying to enjoy the holiday, and when he left, she was searching literally everywhere for him. When he came back, she was happy to see him.

(WE NEEDED MORE SCENES WITH THEM JUST BEING 😁)

In "New Year of Doom!" Tobey and Claire smiled at each other on top of a robot throughout the New Year count-probably the most touching moment between the two and shows she supports whenever he builds his robots just in a constructive way.

I think if she wanted to, she would scrap all of his robots. She literally could, but she knows she would end up breaking his heart. He would be broken because he'll be forced to quit similar to when Miss Power threatened to never allow Dr. Two Brains to have cheese again. She always gave me reluctant disciplinarian type of vibes and would never do anything that would break his little heart. Off topic for a bit, that's why I wish there were more fics about Claire redeeming Tobey instead of Becky because, while I'm all for Tobecky, I feel like that makes more sense considering Tobey pressed so many buttons and disrespects her, and Becky's still a child at the end of the day while Claire is an adult so her mind is wiser, he's her son, and has more reasons to redeem him. Most of all, WordGirl's one of the superheroes of the city and don't have any obligation to redeem any of the villains besides maybe Dr. Two Brains with the whole mouse brain dilemma. She could guide them, but I feel like she would be suspicious about Tobey's change at least for a while. One last thing, while I do like redemption stories, the characters themselves have to change. Guidance is different from forcing them to switch sides. Claire redeeming Tobey stories would allow more ground to be given if that makes sense.

That aside, now, let's say Tobecky happens, and they sort out their issues especially with Tobey's (there's plenty of them as Go Gadget Go shows) I can imagine something like this occurring when a teenager or adult Becky inevitably has to tell Claire she's WordGirl because let's be honest it would avoid a lot of awkwardness. I even see her telling her family eventually, but this is how I actually see it going:

"Mrs. McCallister, I'm WordGirl..."

"...I am not blind, Becky. Though I have tried to be, for Tobey's sake. And for yours. I have suspected things about WordGirl a long time ago. I have put the pieces together as he had, though we do not speak of it. I... pretend that I don't know. And I was happy to, because it made him happy. WordGirl made him happy, when nothing else ever truly could."

If a teenage or adult WordGirl series or some other thing that continues the show ever happened where this theory was true, how do you think Becky would react to Claire knowing that she was WordGirl?

This blog was inspired by:

[moonlightmaeve]

This is one of the first Dracula fanfics I wrote, I put Dracula's words and actions into red to help distinguish them from mine. Let me know your thoughts on how this affects the flow/readability. For a bit of context, this is based on BBCs 2020 Dracula. One of his powers is obtaining memories and information through the taste and smell of blood. That's why he licks for a term he'd forgotten. Please let me know if you enjoy this and if I should post more of my writing!!!

"Drac, do you think I'm a bad person?"

"I think that's a bit too philosophical for a Friday night."

"But you love philosophy."

"I like to study philosophy in the same way that you like to study black holes. You cannot even imagine–"

*looks pensively and moves his tongue around in his mouth before resorting to licking the small wounds on my neck*

"–ah yes spaghettification. I cannot even imagine morality. You don't wish to be crushed by the indescribable force beyond an event horizon and I would hate to believe in good or evil."

"Now THAT'S too philosophical for a Friday night. Just answer my question."

"I'll humour you since I am the closest thing to a god that you will ever know. Everything I know about morality is what the blood tells me. Some people regard themselves as honourable but are quite bitter."

*he moves closer to me, and places his hands authoritatively on my shoulder and looks into my eyes.*

"You often have the soured tinge of guilt, a habit that you must cut back on, for the sake of my enjoyment."

"So my blood tells you I'm guilty? By that account I should be terribly ugly as well."

*getting notably frustrated* "No. Your blood tells me that you are still caught up in the lies humanity likes to tell itself. Concepts of good and evil, beautiful and ugly. They are nearly completely absent from the rest of the universe. They live only in feeble minds that allow them to simmer and grow."

"But when I feel guilt, it becomes real because it is real to me. Isn't that how everything is created?"

"My god, clearly you're not listening to me."

*I grin at the opportunity for a joke to break growing tension* "my... what? I thought that's a name we don't say in this house."

*he flashes a mischievous smirk back at me* "quite right my dear" *moving his hands from my shoulders to my waist to pull me closer to him* "we also don't talk about good and bad" *he kisses my head*

"I'll try to avoid it in the future, maybe we should start a swear jar or something, in case I bring up ethics again."

*looking obviously amused and curious, his voice takes on a decisively playful tone.* "a swear jar??"

"Ya know it's like I have to give you some money every time I swear. Except for instead of saying FUCK, it'll be 'good or evil.'"

"Watch your tongue young lady, or I'll pierce it for you. And yes now that you say that I do recall it, from the 80s. Money is something I have little need for and much of. Now attend my words very carefully darling. Your beloved cat kills baby birds because she was made by nature to do so. I erm ‐harvest‐ blood because I need it to survive. And you, you are often moved by something unseen and powerful that you crave. There is no good or bad in that. Do not bring it up again. Come back with sweet, shame-free blood."

"Drac?"

"Yes?"

"You said 'good or bad' just then, now give me £5"

[ihavemadequestionablechoices]

Yan!C!Awesamedude x GN!Reader

Summary: Living in a kingdom with someone in charge who you see as a tyrant, you weren't afraid to take your shot and attempt to murder him. Unfortunately, he survived, though barely, and you'd been arrested. Now, you're one of the very few prisoners of Pandora's Prison: the dungeons for those who are, to put it mildly, fucked.

Genre: angst, horror

Warnings: swearing,

Pronouns: I/me

Request: [YES]/[NO]

AU: Medieval-inspired

Note: because I'm on vacation and thusly can't update my fics, I decided to make use of the free WiFi in this hotel ((: Note that they're written on phone, and so likely have mistakes.

Pandora's Pen

Day 1

Welp, guess what? I failed. I didn't think I'd end up here, but I did. Pandora's Prison. The moment that spoiled prince sent me here, I knew I was fucked. I hoped I'd be given a fair trial, but of course, a "royal" can't deal with criticism.

So, now I'm just living a death sentence, basically. Everything in this place (including a bed) has to be bought by my money. You believe that? I'm lucky to have Niki make sure I remain alive as long as I can afford (I trust her with my life, so also with my money), but I said I only want her to give the money to stuff like food and drink. I'll just pee and shit and whatnot in the bucket the Prison did provide, and she'll pay with my money for the meals. But I refuse any other luxuries. The only other thing I asked for was this notebook, to be returned to her, so all know the true cruelty of this nation.

I'll start out by describing what happened when I was brought here. While I stayed in the dungeons of the Royal Palace, a bunch of soldiers came in and forced me into handcuffs. They blinded me with a blindfold and told me to remain silent once I started (naturally so) asking questions. They didn't say where they were taking me: I assumed to court. However, I was eventually forced upon a wagon and brought to somewhere easily recognizable.

The Prison is darker for one who knows it'll become their home. They stripped me of any belongings I had left, and forced me into this weird uniform, which admittedly isn't that bad, it's just hard for when I have to piss. It's like a dress with trousers, if you get what I mean. I don't know, man, never been big on clothing.

Anyway, the main Warden hadn't spoken at all during this, until he explained the money part. Ugh, I already hated this voice. He said I wouldn't see anyone except the other wardens, so I should get used to it. Well, he said it more formal, but it was clear to me he wasn't going to treat me like a normal fucking human being.

I was one of the few criminals there too. The other one was Dream, who's infamous for his "war crimes" or whatever they're called. However, I'm never going to see him. He's stuck in the big lava cell, while I'm just stuck in a dark-ass chamber with only the light of outside through railed windows to prevent me from going blind. While he's stuck in a poisonous warmth, I have to do with a bone-chilling cold.

My cell is pretty small. I think a guy of two feet would have to constantly keep his head down, and the cell itself is like 3 by 3 metres. I already mentioned the bucket (fucket) and there are carvings in the walls that have probably been made by a former prisoner. There's only a little light: that of outside and of the small window in the door, whenever someone with a torch comes by. It stinks. Unsurprisingly so, but I expected more urine-smell and less... well, death.

Anyway, I'm writing this before I'm going to try and sleep on the cold floor. I want to make sure I sleep enough to prevent any health problems that come with this... life, if that's what you can call it, from escalating.

And well, I am tired. Extremely.

Day 3

So, today one of the wardens came to bring me food. He smelled like alcohol and I'm pretty sure he was drunk. When I spoke to him, he answered kindly, though I think that's because he wasn't really there. The guy was called Bad, he said. When I asked him why he was drunk, he said it was to block out the screams. At first I thought he was trying to scare me, until I heard them too.

The Warden (the green one) passed by my cell, so I asked him about it. He seemed... shocked. He stopped by my cell and looked at me through the small window. I could only see his eyes. They looked as exhausted as mine.

"You're not allowed to speak to me, 7."

Yeah, 7 is the number assigned to me, for some reason. I think it's because I'm in cell 7. Not sure, though.

"I'm going to die in here anyway. If you think I give a shit about your petty rules, you're mistaken. But who was that? What was that?"

Despite apparently not allowing me to talk to him, he still answered.

"That's none of your business, 7."

"Don't be sassy to me, Warden. You know I'm going nowhere, so why hold that information a secret?"

I'm pretty sure he doesn't know about the notebook (he might, but he didn't mention it). He just snarled at me and then left. Rather amateur behaviour, if you ask me. I'm sure he wouldn't have reacted that way had he had more energy.

The food sucks, by the way. I have no idea how expensive it is, but it's not worth my money.

Day 16

Guess what, something exciting happened, finally. After two weeks, I am already mentally derived of life, but today, I finally had someone visit me. The spoiled prince himself.

For some reason (that reason being privileges), the Warden came into my cell and cuffed me, blindfolded me and brought me to his office. Honestly, I will admit, he did not have as expensive things as I thought he would have. I was cuffed to a chair while he kept his eyes on me all the time, warning bitch hoe (that's what I name the Prince) that I would be provocative. Can't say he was wrong, but I decided to hold myself in, just to make his life a little more miserable.

The Prince, of course, started proudly talking about how his father lived and I was a failure and blah blah blah. I'm pretty sure I even heard the Warden sigh at some point, but I may have imagined it. Bad sleep + bad food + no social interaction -> hallucinations. Two weeks have passed and I'm already going insane. Every day is the same: I avoid writing those down because they're as predictable as you can imagine.

God I can feel myself going insane.

The Prince ended up leaving and I was brought back to my cell. I hadn't said a word to him, just smiling at him as he arrogantly spoke. The Warden returned me to the cell and immediately brought my food, which was less than yesterday. I know my money shouldn't be running out already so I expect some asshole (either he or the prince) took some.

Day 20

I've just realised I've either been in here for way too short, or I've not been keeping track of the days at all.

Anyway, I wouldn't write this down if it wasn't the same. Some guy passed by my cell today, and after that, the screaming started. The Warden passed by my cell as well, so I told him to, you know, explain to me what the hell was going on. Though he never answered my question, he just started to... talk.

His name is Sam I now know, and he's been the Warden of Pandora's Prison ever since the start. I must admit, his sudden decision to talk to me (despite me not being allowed to start conversation) felt kinda weird. Maybe it's normal for him, but I'm pretty sure it's not.

In any case, he ended up by saying "until next time", so I assume this will become a habit of his.

Day ???

I'm not kidding. He made it into a habit. But this time - I don't know how much time passed - he actually entered my cell. He went inside and just sat down and talked to me. When I asked why, he said I was right.

"You're not going to get out of here, so there's no reason to follow the rules. You'll die here. I can tell you anything, and nobody would ever know."

He didn't share any sensitive information, unfortunately, but it was still rather... terrifying. He refused to answer any questions, but threatened to seriously hurt me if I were to avoid any of his. I'm not kidding. This place is messed up, and the power is clearly rising to his head. I said this and he just shrugged.

He then notified me I was nearing my last coins. I knew this would happen and admittedly, I'm glad. Sam's presence has been nauseating. To a certain extent enticing and comforting, but also really scary.

Day WTF

I should be out of money right now. Why am I still getting food? The meals have increased in quality and I've gotten things Niki would know I don't enjoy, so why am I getting it?

Day uhhh

I've stopped eating the food Sam gave me. It smells weird. I think he's trying to poison me? I mean, I may also just be going insane, but him just sitting down in my cell each day (or twice a day - I wouldn't know) is really suspicious. He's insisting I eat, but I'm just waiting to die of starvation.

He also said that he could provide me with a luxurious cell??? It's fucking weird, man. I don't trust it. None of it.

Day FUCK

He got touchy. I'm not joking. He got touchy. Said it'd be a shame for a beautiful one like me to go to waste and he stroked my fucking cheek. I told him to fuck off, and he told me only if I ate. I don't trust it. None of it.

Day damn

I'm hungry. I'm so fucking hungry. The smell of food is enough to make me drool, and I think he knows that. He has to. In any case, I refuse to. I've told him that if he can provide me with a dagger, I'd do it.

His... weird behaviours have been starting to cross a line too. I think he likes being a Warden?? In the way one shouldn't?? He's started calling me pet names, talking about how much of a shame it is I'm a prisoner, though he clearly seem to enjoy that exact bit. It's really freaky. I'm scared to go to sleep.

Dagger day

He's given me it. I'm going to eat my last meal (he made one very tasty, and I'm pretty sure he poisoned it). When he gave me it, he held a whole speech of how much he loves me (fucking hell, I know) and I'm worried. But it also made me more determined. His touchiness and the memories of what I'm fighting for, have made me certain.

I'm eating my last meal. Then he'll regret ever giving me the dagger.

Farewell.

Sam, if you're reading this: haha L bozo

[stonyoongi]

Delicate | (Jeon Jungkook) — TEASER

➙ PARING: Jeon Jungkook x female!reader

➙ GENRE: Yandere/Tsundere Au

➙ SUMMARY: You are a girl and girls are all sensitive and pure and delicate, while boys are all perverse by nature. Would Jungkook be an exception or even worse than most?

➙ WARNINGS: vampire!reader, naive!reader, bisexual!reader, human!jungkook, yandere themes, tsundere themes, physical punishments, threats, obsession behavior, murder, religious themes, manipulation, alcohol consumption, gore, degradation (non kink), mommy issues, pet names, eventual smut scenes (virginity loss, fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex, cum eating, oral, dacryphili, hair pulling, praising...)

English isn't my native language so please excuse me if I make any grammatical errors and feel free to let me know. Don't be rude!

➙ A/N: guys, i just made a big mistake deleting the prologue of 'delicate', when in reality i just wanted to reblog. i'm here posting again because this part is really important for the rest of the story. really sorry...

SERIES MASTERLIST MAIN MASTERLIST

Jungkook first laid eyes on you as soon as he got out of the car. It was a sunny morning, you were sitting on the grass in front of your house, concentrating on writing something in a fuzzy pink notebook. The sun was kissing your skin, he liked your frilly white dress, and the bow that held your ponytail.

He deeply regretted playing the rebellious son and not coming to any of the visits before his parents bought the house, as he missed the chance to see you before he moved in.

"Come help Jungkook," he recognizes his stepfather's voice and sighs heavily before going to carry his own bags into the house.

He just wanted to organize his new room soon, where he intended to spend most of his free time playing, watching, reading and drawing. That's all that goes through his head as he carries a cardboard box full of comic books up the stairs.

The room was about the same size as his old room, he would just need to redecorate to his liking.

He feels like he's the luckiest guy ever to look through the window and see you; lying on your stomach, your legs swinging up and down as you wrote something in that same pink notebook. The innocent movement of your legs offered him a beautiful view of your delicate panties. So that's what you do in the afternoon, give the neighbors a free show? For a moment, he feels a pang of jealousy hit him at the thought of some other guy having the privilege of contemplating such a scene, but then he tries to push those thoughts away. Then he takes his cell phone out of his pocket and opens the camera in order to capture the moment that could be very useful later.

He would masturbate looking at the image of your pretty legs and cute panties, and come so hard imagining it would be the inside of your pussy instead of his hand. He wanted so badly to know your name to call upon reaching the apex, but as it was impossible to have the information at that moment, he decided to refer to you as 'Angel', after all, you looked like one.

"Jungkook, what do you think of the room, honey?" his mother's voice interrupted the perverted thoughts surrounding you.

He quickly put his cell phone back away and took a deep breath, before nodding in response and smiling the slightest bit. He knew his mother was struggling and the last thing he wanted was to make her feel even worse for forcing him to follow her and her stepfather to this shitty little town and give up his life, because it wasn't her fault... The real culprit is the motherfucker she decided to marry and his damn job, which forced the sudden change.

He chose to pretend to still be depressed just to not help organize the new house, he had more important things to do, like organizing his own mess, replying to messages from friends he left behind, maybe checking the window again ...

Jungkook always thought that stupid custom of bringing a pie or something to the new neighbors was pretty shit. First, why on earth does anyone spend time and money preparing something to eat for strangers? And even worse, why would anyone eat anything from a total stranger who knocked on their door? Wouldn't it be easier to just say "Welcome" and then get on with your lives? People are such idiots.

However, his opinion completely changed when, after mentally cursing that no one had answered the damn door and he had to get up himself, he opened the door and there you were, smiling with a strawberry pie in your hands. He didn't bother to notice the woman beside you, as he was too busy trying to mentally photograph every detail of your pretty face.

"Who is it, honey?" his mother's voice approaches. "Oh, hello," she gives him a little push to get him out of the way and offers room for the pair to enter.

He watched from a distance as the two older women chatted excitedly, while you just smiled now and then with some comment. He discovered that, just as he imagined, despite the clothes that were a bit different from what girls usually wear, you are the same age as him. The woman who accompanied you is your mother, who is also a teacher and teaches you at home because, according to her, you have difficulty interacting with other young people.

He noticed the discomfort in your eyes when she said that.

On the one hand, Jungkook was disappointed because he expected to go to the same school as you, but he was happy to hear his mom say that you can always come over to his house to spend time so you won't be alone during the time your mom is working.

"Oh no thanks" was the first time he'd heard your voice and he loved how it sounded. "I really don't want to bother," you smiled shyly, lowering your tone.

It would be stupid to accept, you barely know them. They could be a family of psychopaths who would torture you to death, use your pretty head as decoration in the living room, he'd use your blood to paint a picture, make a pair of gloves out of your soft skin and he'd find a way to make good use of your organs. He laughed out loud at the thought, attracting the attention of the three women who stared at him in confusion.

"I'm going to my room," he says smiling sheepishly before heading towards the stairs.

"See you later, Jungkook", he heard you say in the background, but he didn't have the courage to turn around to face you, but he really liked the way you pronounced his name.

[saltnpepperprentiss]

Payback is a b*itch

Hope x fem reader

*not my gif*

Sunmary: You're Hope's best friend and she's finally got her humanity back. Which is great except the tribrid has been ignoring you and you don't know why.

A/N: so I wrote this before the episode where Hope actually turned her humanity back on and also naturally I assumed Landon would come back to life so he is in here too, briefly... And then forgot about it😬 anyway I hope you like it. Thought I'd post something since legacies has been canceled. Also I've never posted a fic on Tumblr so if this isn't right, I'm so sorry.

🦇🐺🧙🏻🦇🐺🧙🏻🦇🐺🧙🏻🦇🐺🧙🏻🦇🐺🧙🏻

The music is blasting so loud you feel the ringing echo in your ears. The party Lizzie Saltzman had planned as a welcome back for Hope and herself got more rowdy as the hours ticked closer to midnight. Yet you hadnt seen the tribrid anywhere all night. Ever since her humanity came back and she finally returned to the school (after taking a break to physically be with her family) you hadn’t really had the chance to speak to her , let alone see her.

It's as if she had busied herself with enough tasks to help around the school to make up for what her no humanity self had put them through. Not that she had to , everyone had forgiven her and found ways to move on yet it had never been easy for Hope to do the same.

You knew she’d been on a mission today with Alaric and Landon in recruiting some potential new students. Though you’re pretty sure they’d been back for a while and yet no sign of the auburn haired girl had been in sight.

Until of course you catch the tail end of a conversation between her and Landon,  not so far off from the party.

“I know I said I’d give us another shot but I don’t think it’s a good idea” you heard Landon say.

“What? Just because we got into an argument during the mission? You’re giving up that easily?” Hope answers and you can hear the hurt in her voice. You don’t mean to be listening in on what seems to be a very private conversation , but you also cant stop yourself. Neither can you stop yourself from slowly moving towards their direction.

“of course not! But between you throwing yourself into hero mode and your weird obsession with y/n lately I think you're just using us as a distraction for what you really want”

What?- was that your name? Did you really hear that or was your brain messing with you. Your cheeks felt warm , your heart racing at the idea that maybe , just maybe your secret crush you’ve had on Hope Mikaelson all this time could lead to something more.

By the time you try to refocus on the conversation its over. Landon's gone and Hope is left staring into the dimly lit  part of the woods leading back to the school. It’s then that you realize you’ve stalked your way towards the tribrid and that she probably knows you’re behind her so it’s not like you could just turn around and pretend you know nothing.

“How much did you hear” Hope asks , her back still to you , no way to tell if she’s mad or not.

“Not much” you start, “actually enough, is this why you’ve been ignoring me?” you decide you might as well be honest.

“I haven’t been ignoring you!” Hope exclaims.

Your brows furrow , her back was still towards you and you could tell her shoulders were tense. What was wrong with liking you? You move closer towards the tribrid with determination. Suddenly the frustration of her ignoring you all this time comes bubbling to the surface. So what if she doesn’t like you , you were friends first, best friends even. You don’t just ignore friends.

“Then why won’t you even look at me Hope?” you ask , your voice rising slightly when  the tribrid still wouldn’t turn around.

“I’m scared of what I’ll do to you”

What does that even mean? Her humanity was back on , why would she hurt you? Even when her humanity was off she barely touched you instead making you unconscious when you tried to stop her from leaving. So why would that warrant such a reaction from her?

You’re standing close enough now that you can see the way the shorter girls chest is rising and falling faster with every breath. Was she upset? If only she’d turn around and actually speak to you.

“I’m more scared of what you won’t do” you finally answer. Maybe Hope realized that your friendship just wasn’t enough for her or that she didn’t need you. But why would Landon mention her having an obsession with you if that were true? What did he know that you didn’t.

You’ve had enough of this , you grab a hold of Hopes wrist but before you know it she’s spinning around , eyes flashing golden before you feel it. The softness of her lips pressed harshly against your own. You barely have a chance to reciprocate before she pulls away , her eyes now back to blue searching yours for any sort of sign.

“I- Hope” you try to speak but you can’t find the words. What could you possibly say when your long time crush who you thought had no interest in you that way just kisses you?

“I’m sorry I should’ve asked first but ever since my emotions came back these feelings for you just wouldn’t go away— I didn’t even know I had them until a few weeks ago when I saw you at football practice and realized I really , really wanted to kiss you  after you winked at me- winked! You just winked , you’ve done it before and I never felt that way but then it happens now and all I could think about was kissing you!”

You’re still staring at Hope , eyes wide. First the kiss and then a rambling confession , your brain was still processing realizing Hope liked you.

You’re still holding onto her wrist,  your grip tight but not enough to hurt her. Well you don’t think you could even if you tried. Her gaze lowers to where you’re holding onto her then back to your lips , they linger there for another second before she is looking back at you waiting almost pleading for you to say something, anything. Her cheeks are practically red after that ramble and all you could do was stare gobsmacked.

But you still have no words. So you do the only thing that comes to mind and tug her into your chest. The shock is evident on her face not expecting you tugging her closer but then your free hand caresses her cheek and you feel her eyes on your lips once more once it settles that this is happening. You are going to kiss her. Hope leans in even more , a chill running through her as your hand trails towards her neck and then rests at the nape before pulling her in and just before your lips touch you ask “is this okay?”

The way her breath fans your face as she let’s out a breathy chuckle makes your stomach do somersaults. This was really happening. You were really here in the woods , inches away from Hope Mikaelson's face ready to kiss her. And have her kiss you , AGAIN.

“More than” She whispers out before connecting your lips once more. This time it’s softer , this time you kiss back with no fervor like you can feel Hope is trying to induce. Instead your kisses are languid , you savor each touch ,every taste you get from her lip balm. Bubblegum , not what you expected but not like you’re complaining.

You break a part minutes later , the fire in the tribrids eyes tell you she wants more. Craves it. And sure you want it to but not tonight. Tonight all you want is her and you spending the night catching up on lost time. And if you maybe decide to tease her with lingering touches or skillfully placed kisses through the night or even cutting off the makeout sessions when you feel it starting to heat up and it makes her blue eyes shine golden  in frustration. Well let’s just say she deserves it for ignoring you all this time.

Payback is a bitch.

[nokingsonlyfooles]

Oh God. David Heard There's Room Service In Hell!!

Once again, I am testing my drawing ability by NOT doing any of the MANY illustrations I need, but I would've been sad if I couldn't finish an illustration. And look! I made it! I CAN DRAW! (And collage, obvs not my suitcase or BG, but all Public Domain)!! Well, my stylus needs a new battery, BUT, IN THEORY, I CAN DRAW! It's low res like all my test images, and I don't think I'm gonna put Vivziepop out of business anytime soon, but I'm fond of it.

That's why I'm so sad that it'll NEVER EVER HAPPEN. As a storyteller (albeit an obscure one) let me elucidate...

Strictly in terms of narrative viability, David hails from an incompatible universe. For an Invisible, he's middling. The Compelling Voice he's so fond of seems to be standard-issue, he's just more of an asshole about using it. In Tin Soldier and Soldier On, he's not all that hard to beat. Some people even have a natural immunity! He's only a threat in the first place because nobody knows what he can do.

But the minute he rolls up to the Hazbin Hotel, not only does nobody know what he can do, nobody has that natural immunity, and it would be hard as hell (haha) to beat him with their combat-friendly magic system. David isn't doing that Capcom-esque "freeze the enemy for a few seconds while they're looking at it" hypnosis. He's issuing unbreakable commands. If you're not deaf, the only way to beat him is to forget what he said. And that seems like it would be difficult, if not impossible, for most of the cast. Alastor certainly won't stoop to inflicting head trauma or hypnosis or amnesiac-levels of liquor on himself.

And that MIGHT not be a problem, except as soon as Dave meets Al he's gonna go from zero to nemesis in about three seconds flat. "Hmm, let's see. Neat freak, carefully-curated personality, perma-smile, never a moment's weakness... That's a pathetic little traumatized man-baby and I'm going to pull him out of his shell if I need to use a crab fork!" And, canonically, Alastor is also willing to make enemies that quickly. David has a sense of humour and no sense of self preservation, combat tentacles and veiled threats ain't gonna do it. Round one, David's gonna mop the floor with the Radio Demon.

...And by that, I mean he'd stuff Alastor into one of Niffty's frilliest little outfits and literally make him mop the floor, and even Charlie encouraging him to be a better person wouldn't get him to quit. Also, he'd be ignoring her and bending over backwards to get Angel's attention.

"Oh, listen. The man is over one hundred years old with zero interest in one-night stands or whirlwind romances. Prohibition isn't a thing anymore, drinking and dancing just doesn't cut it. Give him a chance to develop a fetish for something a little bit taboo..."

"I̸̠̤̐̄̄ ̸͕̝͙̌A̸̪̅M̴̭̰̙̎̓ ̶͓̻̐̉L̷̹͕̍I̷̯͗T̷̫̄Ȩ̶̾̋R̴̝̥͒A̷͔̩͋̃̕Ļ̵͗͜L̶̘̈́Y̵͇̓͗̂ ̴̼̪̘͠Ā̷̠̽̆ ̶͍͓̊̉C̷̣͕̺͆̃͝A̵͙̾̅N̶̥̬̮̄N̴̤̯̬̒̉̚I̴̩̜̍B̷͈̪̩̄À̴̝̦L̶̪͂͛͗!̶̟̆"

"That's not a fun night out. It's barely even a meal, what with the garbage they're feeding people these days. I imagine everyone tastes like a fucking 'Cool Ranch Dorito.'" [while making quote marks with both hands] "Isn't he from Louisiana? They invented spicy! Tell me, my deer fellow, is the cross-dressing and domination lighting up any dials?"

"Ì̴̗ ̶̧̫͓͋W̵͜͝Í̸̗͋L̴͔͆̊̌L̴̨̜͚͂ ̸͈̤́Ḱ̵̳̩͜Í̷̘̾L̶̨̫̬̉͋̌Ļ̵̱̗͐͊ ̴̧̣͊̄̈́Y̴̛͖̺͓̓̐O̶̢̦̍̀U̷̠̞͇̎ ̷̨̛̮̭I̷̙̜̽N̸̘̣͙̆ ̵̞͑͝Y̷̰̭̽O̷̟̘̹̓Ủ̶̢̏R̷͉͑̄̀ ̷̧̧̤̎Ŝ̶̱͈̃L̵̰͋Ȅ̸̜̗̙̊̍E̷͇̦̒P̷͈̝̅̆͌.̴̡͈̅͑̓͜"

"My good man, I have unlimited access to drugs and a fun new activity, WHY WOULD I SLEEP? What shall we try next? Do you have any drugs, Angel? Oh, of course you do! Do you think he's more of an upper or a downer person? I think a few muscle relaxants might loosen up that permanent rictus of social anxiety, but God only knows. You must be smoking a crate of cigarettes a day! Do you even brush? Your teeth, I mean. Do you suppose those lovely people at Lourdes make a mouthwash...?"

And Charlie would say, clasping her little hands, "Okay! What if we make some popcorn and talk about our childhood traumas? Yaaaay!"

But David would, inevitably, pass out. Most likely after binging and doing untold damage with Angel. And Alastor would kill him... And that's where we have the biggest fucking plot problem of all. Alastor's go-to method of disposal is tearing people to pieces while broadcasting it on the radio. And it seems like their screaming continues for quite some time, perhaps eternally.

I have expressed this in song form, because I have a weird brain and I couldn't resist.

Wait, wait, nevermind the eternal torment. Can these little hellions hear me? Test, test, is this thing on? Pardon me, could you quiet down a bit? I have a few things I’d like to… Will you stop screaming? Ugh. EVERYBODY SHUT UP AND LISTEN RIGHT NOW! That’s better. I have a little message for my executive producer. Well! I say! Colour me startled, you fulfilled your vow Think you’ve won? But I’ve barely begun! I’m always looking for new fans to wow Can you hear me NOW? [aside] Will you screamers sing backup if I command it? Can I get a little harmony? (We… can’t help ourselves?) I am eternal, and guess who’s just boosted my signal So I can reach all of you lovely new people? (We can’t help ourselves!) It’s your own Radio Demon! What was he thinking? (We can’t help ourselves!) What was he drinking? Ha! His dial must be twisted! Now I’m serenading the damned for my infinite span All according to plan! Am I a madman or a genius? I’m a pianist! Take that, FCC I’m a wonder, your saviour Please excuse my rude behaviour, (but the demon sure done fucked up!) Think he did me a favour? Silence my vocals? A failure! I’m louder and I’m certainly braver So crank the signal to the noise, and enjoy my compelling voice It’s nice to have all these new toys, (but our deer friend is annoyed) A Spirit of Radio beats a demon blow for blow This Invisible is crackling on the air! Well, one does like to believe Though you’re stuck, I’m almost free! That’s what you think! Your weak signal can’t compare Though you’ve had a little fun Your broadcast is done, and it’s time for your payback I’m in control Too bad you atomized my soul! … Not this attention-starved, brandy-addled, overgrown twink Guilty! What could be more absurd? A plagiarist bird Tweety-pie can’t even sing, his theft is pitchy You call that bitchy? I’m afraid that’s not entertainment! You're looking for a new twist? Then let’s remix the arrangement! Is Al as stiff as he projects? What sorts of kinks do you suspect? I’ve seen lacy details with my very eyes! He lies! And if I Tiked a Tok or two Well, there’s nothing he can do! A V̷̰͖̉̂͝İ̶̙D̵̛̻̮̙͛̕E̴̼̱̕Ŏ̷͆ͅ?̷̗͎̞̏̅! If I did, you can’t delete it That's the truth! When I find you in here, Ÿ̴͕̚Õ̸̠̝̕Ů̵̩̹Ŕ̸͔ ̸̬̋̂̔͜T̸̮̙͌̕Ő̵͔͕̑̄R̵̩̣̅͌̌͜M̷̝̹̾̏Ĕ̶̦͕̟Ň̶̮͊Ṱ̷̲̈̔̈ ̵̡̹̟̑Ẅ̷̝́͝I̷͉͋ͅL̴͎̞̎L̶̯͓͑ ̵̬͐͐͝Ḅ̸͚̬̅Ẹ̴̎̿͠ ̴̻͉̲̐̈́͠N̵̖̟̤͑̽E̴͙͎͘V̸̡͕̦̾̕Ė̵̝͈̀Ŕ̴̺-̸̡̱̇̾̉E̴̠̣̊̐̋Ń̵͔̬̝̑D̴̡̬͙̓İ̴͔͋͊N̸̞̙͐̒Ĝ̷̼̺̐͆.̸̤̭́̐̅.̸̰̓͝.̷̤̬̌ #MaidioDemon is trending! Y̴̼̿͆O̶̟͇͊̏͜Ǔ̸͈ ̴̨̫͘I̷̡͓̜̍̈́̽N̸̜̩̉̄͝S̵͚͈̭̅̓Ĩ̸̢̯͇͘Ṗ̶̩̭̦I̴̱͑D̷̨͖̚ͅ,̴̥͕̌̈̾ ̸̛̳̈́Ṭ̶̢̠͒Ė̸̱̼̕C̸̙̥̈́H̵͓̠̔̀N̷̖͝Ǒ̶̬Ć̶͔̃͘Ř̶͙͍͠Ä̴̟́̊T̴̳̉̊͜I̶̞̓͝C̵̢̨̲͐̇̎.̵̼̏͋.̷͎̆ͅ.̸̘̜̒ Darling, please, you’re lost in static One thing’s clear! You must be wishing that you took the L, you poor deer Say farewell. I’m very grateful that you gave me Hell Oh, this will be swell! [Vivziepop, distantly:] Fuck!

"Stayed Gone" is a patter song and I can't keep up with it as I read it, but I think the lyrical parts scan, at least. A-heh. Please excuse my hubris, but it's doubtful anyone will see this.

Of course, I would never torment someone with arguably GNC-phobic revenge porn, but that guy IS NOT ME. Your only hope for dealing with David is if Vaggie decides he's more of a threat than an amusement and straight up kills him, and that's not a plot, that's a cul-de-sac. So this little not-a-fic is all you'll get from me about this unsustainable situation.

...Alright, I might put Alastor in a maid outfit if anyone cares, but I really should be illustrating. I have precisely 13 to do before I can post more story! Unless I decide to post it anyway!

All apologies to Vivziepop, whom I've name-checked as one of a few creators I'd sell out or saw off my leg to work with. But - although I am tempting fate - prrrobably no one will see this. I'm just doin' a little practice and amusing myself.

Right, Tumblr?

[holyklover]

This Isn't Happening l Chapter 1

Dabi x Shigaraki x Reader l Read on ao3 Dead Dove I MDNI

“Princess,” the black-haired guy purred. “Why do you feel so wet here?” Your body froze.

Shunsuke—no, what was his name—Shiga...something. He had slurred his name into your ear before pinning you underneath him. He didn't look like much, maybe a buck fifty soaking wet, but his strength was unmistakable, evident by the crushing force of his body as he had you pegged to the dingy motel bed underneath his weight.

77Shunsuke77. That was his screenname. The man you fell in love with. This wasn't 77Shunsuke77. The man you fell in love with was an average company worker with marriage on his mind. His dating profile had shown you photos of a man, cropped black hair with bangs falling lightly over his forehead. Dark, kind eyes; tall, with well-defined muscles that seemed to pulsate under his shirt. Shunsuke listed his interests as cooking and learning about new cultures. He had nothing but praise for women and their plight in feminism...not putting chloroform over their face and restraining them.

So what the holy hell was going on now?

You weren't some idiot or some naïve youth. You had a career and brains and grew up in the age of the internet. Your generation knew all about stranger danger. You took the precautions necessary. You reverse image searched his photos, his name. All of it matched up....except. He never did let you send any friend requests to his profiles. He didn't want to video chat. And you, the hopeless fucking romantic, didn't care. You trusted him. And look what was happening to you now. This is because you were thinking with you heart and not your brain. Smack “Anybody in there, princess? I'm feeling like you're starting to dislike me.” Shigasomething interrupted your thoughts. You looked up at him. You could taste the blend of mascara and tears as they rolled down your quickly bruising cheeks and into your mouth. “I want...to...go...home,” you choked out.

Then something happened.

The freak above you..why did his face soften like that just now? Why did he grow so quiet and look bewildered. You continued.

“Please, this isn't what you want to do! I can tell!” You felt, for a moment, your body grow a bit lighter as he loosed his hold on you.

“Are you really letting this slut get into your head, Shigaraki?” The voice. That is the very reason you're here right now.

You chalked it up to him just being camera shy. That was ok. Most of your chats consisted of you calling him while you pointed the camera at something else, or simply sharing your screen so he could watch you attend to work matters while he did his own thing.

But you at least had shown you face...all Shigaraki had shown your face...all Shigaraki did was voice chat, and that even that was sparingly. When he did, this guy next to him, grinning like a maniac while palming himself on the other side of you, was undoubtedly the voice you head. Rich and deep; the kind of voice that narrates luxury car commercials. It was his voice Shigaraki would have speak to you. He'd tell you how much he loved you and how so excited he was to guide you around Japan and show you his favorite cat cafe. That same voice was now calling you a slut and egging on Shigaraki to defile you in ways you never comprehended any sane person would want to inflict on anyone, consensual or not. “Princess,” the black-haired guy purred. “Why do you feel so wet here?” Your body froze.

No. No. No. No. Of course these two lunaticsn would equate the natural reaction of a body being aroused to being actually turned on. Shigaraki's raven-haired companion had been assaulting your clothed pussy with a vibrator for the past hour, switching modes between soft and fast, edging you and making you like this. It wasn't your fault. This was just your body reacting. Lick The side of your neck grew warm and wet as Shigaraki lowered his head and began tonguing at your neck. He slurped at your neck, producing vile squelching sounds as he did so. His hair brushed against your forehead. In any other scenario this juxtaposition of sensations would have felt like heaven. You cursed your body for reacting anyway. “Dabi, lemme fuck the bitch already. I'm going to loose it if I can't cum in her soon.” “Yeah, I can tell from here you're oozing precum.” Dabi said as he lazily pumped his dick. You couldn't help but be transfixed by his motions. If it was fear, shame, or a blend of the two, you didn't know. The other freak who brought you here—Dabi—had a dick that was that rivaled what you've seen in porn. It was littered with piercings and subdermal implants. You felt bad for anyone he had to fuck—or was it curiosity? No. That wasn't an okay thought. None of this is okay right now! You have to focus on getting out of here with your life and dignity in tact. You looked up at Shigaraki. “You don't need to do this. We can get past this and pretend it never happened, okay?” you pleaded. “I won't tell anyone... and I meant that I loved you, so we can just....” Oh no. Why was he unzipping his pants? Why was he removing his underwear? Why wasn't he putting on a condom? Why was he flipping you over? “Princess,” he breathed directly into your ear. “You can say whatever you want, I'm still gonna ruin this slutty hole of yours.” That did it. You felt your body go numb. This was happening to you. He never cared about you. He never wanted anything to do with you. He was prey himself who so desperately wanted to become the predator. And he would. From somewhere distant, you head Dabi speak.

[prisoner-000]

"Cat" - Lyrics + Translation Analysis

As it happens to be Kazui's birthday, let's talk about the lyrics in Cat some more - Mostly using the official translation (since it's accurate for the most part) with a few exceptions. I'm not great at Japanese and only know a few words, so whenever further translation was needed, I hit the books. If I miss any context, feel free to add on!

I believe Cat, at its core, is about Kazui's decision to confess his love to an unseen second person in his MV OR confessing his 'sin' to his wife. This song is not about Hinako/his wife, though she plays an important role in the visuals of the song.

Alright, let's start with some minor things.

Lie, until it gets better, follow the king of the masquerade

This pretty much stays the exact same in Japanese, with the exception of a reference to "kyogen", a japanese form of traditional drama. 'Kyogen'-type theater usually serves as intermissions between the longer and more serious 'Noh' plays, in which actors wear masks. Kyogen is more comedic in nature and uses slapstick.

(This line has probably been analyzed to death: It's a pretty clear indicator of Kazui being a self-declared 'master of deception'/having lied his whole life about something, like he mentions in his Voice Drama.)

Since when have I ignored my feelings?/It’s better to be a let down, than to be let down yourself/I just wanted to touch, to caress/I just wanted to be touched

(Nothing interesting to add translation wise. I believe this batch of lyrics is Kazui wrestling with himself over whether he should tell the truth or not: In my opinion, this is about him being unsure whether to confess his love to the unseen second person in the scene we see later in his MV. (or if you're on copium like me, the bartender guy...))

So it’s wrong? Oh shove that!/INNOCENT, isn’t that right?/Maybe, perhaps… or… could it come true… like/It’s for the sake of true love, who wouldn’t lie for that?

The only notable difference in translation is, in classic MILGRAM fashion, the word 'INNOCENT' being 'FORGIVEN' in the Japanese version. So, y'know. We know this.

(This is the only lyric that is a bit of a puzzle to me. Kazui believes he was in the right for lying to his wife/Hinako, because he couldn't have lived in a society where he'd be seen as strange or an outsider. So, he did what everyone else does around him: Once he's an older adult, he gets married. Not sure what the 'true love' part is about, in this case - maybe he believes to reach that desire he craves, he has to put up this charade.)

Love (plus) Destiny = Crap, smash it, shatter it, bye-bye/That sticky-sweet sequence: Dinner + Camouflage + You-Know-What/Loving Affection (minus) Love, it’s tacky, this two-way deceit/Victim and Perpetrator, let’s keep it simple

Hate to disappoint but Kazui is not making an awesome reference to sex with "You-Know-What" - 'nanchatte' is used more like "what a joke" in this context. In the sense that - this is just what everyone does, you already know the rest of the story.

Interesting to note is that the official english lyrics were changed at some point: The third line of this batch used to say this:

Devotion (minus) love, lame, cheating

I think this may have been changed to remove the reference to 'cheating'. In English, cheating can be used as both cheating at games and as cheating in relationships - while in Japanese, these terms are very different. The term used in Japanese still seems to mean 'cheating' in the game way, fitting Kazui's gambling/showman theme.

(I think these lines are pretty clear to read from a story perspective. Kazui isn't actually in love with his wife and presents their relationship as a lie, he's 'cheating' at the game of love. Also, 'camouflage/disguise' is an interesting choice of words - disguising himself as what, trying to fit in with who? The norm, methinks. He wants to appeal to what everyone else is doing.)

Phew, oh wow I’m drunk/Hey, so what if I said I liked-liked you, what would you do?

The english variant of this text uses 'like-like', and I'm not too sure why. The japanese version uses 'daisuki', perhaps a bit of a more cutesy way to say 'love' than 'aishiteru'. Maybe the intention in the japanese text is a more childish tone due to Kazui's intoxication.

(This lyric, in my opinion, is the big moment the first few batches of lyrics have been building to: Kazui confesses his feelings to whoever this mystery person is in a state of intoxication.)

I just wanted to ask, so it’s out in the open/I just got a little greedy

(Nothing too interesting translation wise. "I wanted to ask" obviously refers to "What would you do?" Pretty self-explanatory as well. Kazui believes his confession was selfish. He likely feels bad for his wife.)

All those things I wanna do that I can’t say out loud/I gotta keep it inside and act/The beating of this heart… see… it’s no longer about good and bad… it isn’t/I realize the futility, but I still can’t help but dream

'I gotta keep it inside and act' would perhaps be more accurately translated to 'I gotta drink it up and swallow it'. Reference to substance abuse. Awesome.

(I love repressed people!!! Kazui, since indulging in his desire and confessing his feelings, isn't sure about his place in the world. It's no longer about good or bad, his desire is impossible to make a reality, his only escape is fantasizing. Which leads us back to his constant references to 'dreaming', all the way to his lyrics in UNDERCOVER.)

I can’t stop, I can’t be normal/This feeling, it can’t be gratified/I can’t stop, I can’t be normal/This feeling, it’s yearning to be satisfied

(Oh boy, we're on yearning now, huh. More dilemmas in his head - he's fighting with himself on if his 'unnatural' desire is wrong, but he knows he can't live with himself if he doesn't fulfill it.)

Let's take a breather

(Unsure. Some translations say this is also 'Just a quick smoke/I need a quick smoke'. Maybe smoking is supposed to represent him indulging in his desire at this moment. That, or he wants a break from his inner conflict - Or even confessing to his wife is a 'breather'.)

Love (plus) Destiny = Crap, smash it, shatter it, bye-bye/To be caressed by you, that would be perfection/I wanted to be loved, just like a cat/Maybe act capricious, on my word and at my fancy

Here's an interesting difference between the Japanese and English versions! In the original version, 'caressed' is 'pet'/'stroked'. The translation also removes the 'you' from the third line. So maybe this would be a little more accurate:

To be pet by you, that would be perfection/I wanted you to love me like a cat

Unfortunately, I have no idea what the last line is supposed to be in the original. DeepL translated it as 'I might want to leave it with you on a whim' - other sites translate it as something among the lines of 'making a deposit'. I'm at a loss of how to interpret this line. LOL.

(Perhaps important context to add is that, in Japanese context, 'being loved like a cat' would be receiving love but not giving much in return. People have pointed out the gay slang 'neko' reference to this about a dozen times before, and even though the lyrics do not use the kanji associated with the slang term, I believe it could have some merit.)

Lie, until it gets better, follow the king of the masquerade/Lick that sin and oppose punishment, until you can meet the king of the masquerade

(This is a pretty 1:1 translation. What does 'lick that sin' mean? Man what do I know. It's another cat reference, though! I think the last line is referring to his verdict in the first trial, maybe. Perhaps Kazui is building up his lies even more, in some way, and repressing himself more? I'm a little unsure. It is plausible that he's growing more comfortable in his persona.)

Overall, I believe this song is Kazui finally coming to that decision of confessing his love for the unknown person. 'Half' may have been about him contemplating it, which would make 'Cat' a pretty direct continuation of this little story - I wonder if his third trial song might end the story!

I'm personally of the opinion that Kazui's 'desire' is either of the nature that he just can't stay in relationships for too long without getting bored (which cracks in some places, especially in the MV) or that he is some flavor of LGBT which is more taboo in Japan, especially for male role models like him - a cop, big, strong, masculine... Obviously he'd be pressured to enter a heteronormative life.

This was really fun to do! I might do this sort of thing with more future MILGRAM songs, so if you have any requests, let me know! If you have anything to add translation-wise, feel free to correct me. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!

[hartsvale]

May we know more of the lore of miss enkha please 🥺👉👈

(I am a half orc appreciation blog and love your misses and must know more about her cause I love her 🧡)

owo, the opportunity to talk about my specialist girl in the whole world?? this makes me so incredibly happy because i've been dying to share more about her! before i get into it, though, i just wanna give a little content warning for forced sex work and mentions of assault. i don't wanna bother anyone by just diving in. her backstory is rough, but she isn't. ♡

for a very long time, there was much of enkha's life that she just did not remember. she knew that she was born into a family, as everyone was, but she could only recall bits and pieces of them rather than whole figures with names and faces and histories. she knew that at the center, there was a very sad woman, but she could never remember her face, only clammy hands and furious little whispers. what she remembered was the denmother of the fox hollow, taking her off of someone's hands with only generosity in her heart, giving her work rather than letting her starve on the streets or worse. after all, what is a half-orc child but a bloody risk? there was almost love there, sometimes, if you tilted your head and squinted. enkha wouldn't consider it such, not anymore, not now that she knows better. she spent her first fifteen years learning how to clean bedsheets and weathering the world around her. neverwinter wasn't unkind; it was oblivious, uncaring. she only ever left the hollow to follow behind the denmother -- who she was already taller than by thirteen. "when will she be on offer?" men and women asked the denmother. they teased, "you better be training her right." the training began shortly after her seventeenth birthday, once she began putting on genuine muscle, once she reached a steady 6'3. most of the other girls in the den had started when they were much younger, but not her, not when the denmother had a specific role in mind for her.

despite her gentle nature and her even gentler touch, she was hauled by the scruff of her neck into the typical female orc fantasy for patrons who didn't know better and didn't care. all they wanted was a tall, broad woman to throw them around, one with tusks that prodded sharply out from her soft lips, one with a deeper voice and a harsh nature, keen to put them in their place. enkha was miserable. the role clawed in under her skin over time, changing down to her bones how she saw herself. not as a girl, but as a conqueror, as a monster, as someone meant for only one thing. any thoughts of freedom or romance or a life worth more than a coin in her palm were smothered in their sleep. there would be none of that, not for someone like her. she would ever be punished for the sins of her father. until... until. at twenty-two, she received a paying customer who entered her room without a word, lifting a hand when she demanded that he remove his hood so that she might see his face. only once the door to her chamber was solidly shut and solidly locked did he slip back his hood, as she'd ordered of him. he was a golden-haired young man, no older than twenty, but his eyes were strikingly familiar. they were the same brown as her own. gran micov was his name – allegedly, the only child of livia micov and heir to his grandfather's underground empire. except, he claimed, he was not the only child born of her. she was half-mad by forty, and nothing could stop her from slipping in mentions and memories of what had come of what had happened to her farther north, nothing short of cutting out her tongue. not only did her mother have a name, but so did her grandfather. there were names and faces and truths, outside of the hollow, and gran gave them to her... along with her freedom from the denmother, which had proved to be no small expense. after all, devya micov owned her and her brothel, and enkha was his daughter's misbegotten mistake.

but, in the end, gold swayed even the denmother, and enkha was let loose by her young, foolish half-brother. gran micov taught her everything she knows of stealth, of assassination, of cloak and dagger and death. he taught her about what jobs to take and which to avoid like they were plagued. he taught her how to spend her money and how to keep it. but beyond that, he bought her a spool of pretty cream-colored ribbon and a dress of a green so rich, it made her skin look almost golden. he showed her what she was capable of. he showed her that she could be precisely what she wanted to be. and what she wanted to be was so far away from neverwinter and devya micov and the fox hollow that she couldn't even remember what the warm waters of neverwinter river looked like. so, she traveled south along the high road, keeping to herself for the most part but taking occasional bounty hunting work to keep herself fed, stopping for a moment in waterdeep to buy supplies as well as purchase passage on a trading vessel headed towards baldur's gate. that was how she crossed paths with an aspiring tailor who would later be called figaro pennygood, though they started off on something of a bad foot considering his immediate assumptions about her temperament. those did not last, and by the time they reached their destination, he'd offered her work. would he ever cross paths again with a woman willing to kill his competitors for something as simple as a dress? unlikely. and so began their short, but ultimately mutually beneficial partnership. it lasted for upwards of a year before they parted ways – enkha with a closet full of sumptuous gowns, and figaro with something akin to a monopoly on fashion in the upper city. not because she could not continue her career as a tailor's assassin or because he could no longer afford her, but because she feared the person she became while killing.

the bloodlust that overtook her was a terrifying one and something that she fought valiantly against each and every time she fought, every time she spilled blood.

so, rather than continuing to take up her daggers, she looked into work with the guild, hoping that she might be able to ply her work as a surprisingly adept thief rather than continuing the bloody work of a hired killer.

thieving was easier. thieving didn't leave her feeling sick to her stomach. thieving could put food on the table without making her feel as if she wasn't worthy of eating it. around this time is when she's snatched up by the nautolid. she's twenty-six and just making a name for herself and coming into her own, and she's slurped up onto this mindflayer vessel and tadpoled and thrown into this entirely new world of being a hero, something that she never knew she was capable of but wanted desperately her entire life. this is when she discovers that she's capable of being soft, too. that her dressing up and putting ribbons in her hair wasn't a masquerade, but who she was always meant to be. :>

[ifacotarwasgood]

why is chapter 2 of acotar bad? some short craft lessons

CH 2

click here for the full comparison between the original chapter and my revision.

DISCLAIMER: this is not an exhaustive list.

heightened prose style = distracting

we're told feyre barely has a formal education and has nearly turned feral in her struggle to keep her family alive, but we're supposed to believe her internal monologue sounds like:

My father had once convinced a passing charlatan to trade the engravings against faerie harm in exchange for for one of his wood carvings. There was so little that my father was ever able to do for us that I hadn't possessed the heart to tell him the engravings were useless...and undoubtedly fake.

using heightened diction and formal sentence structure isn't inherently problematic, but it sounds uppity and pedantic, which doesn't match feyre's characterization at all. instead, it just sounds like sjm's authorial voice.

it also makes every sentence real clunky, which is...not good.

thin characterization = the archerons are a bunch of losers

elain, nesta, and papa archeron are barely described beyond how useless and helpless they are. while this puts feyre's competence into greater relief, it also makes it hard for the reader to care about her main motivation, which is to keep them alive.

why should we care about their survival when feyre describes her family like:

The undercurrent of hunger honed [Elain's] words into a sharpness that had become too common in recent weeks. No mention of the blood on me. I'd long since given up hope of them actually noticing whether I came back from the woods every evening. At least until they got hungry again.

???

sections like this remind us again and again of feyre's resentment toward her family, but we're also told that her only motivation is to keep them safe. it's a very tricky needle to thread, and I don't think sjm does it successfully. I end up being annoyed by them all equally.

this isn't how people talk, sarah

sjm's dialogue is real bad.

on one hand, it's bad because of the word choice. again, the diction is so heightened it just doesn't feel believable, especially since this chapter focuses on family members bickering.

an example. nesta says:

"I thought all you wanted was for us to get out of the house—to marry off me and Elain so you can have enough time to paint your glorious masterpieces."

but a) real people don't talk in complex sentence constructions, especially when they're agitated. and b) "glorious masterpieces" is so distracting I genuinely rolled my eyes when I first read it.

dialogue isn't accurate to real life speech—the same way fiction in general doesn't match real life exactly. real people talk about nothing most of the time when we want characters to talk about something relevant.

but dialogue has to balance mimicking real life speech while not cleaving to how any of us really speak. it has to reflect speech's cadence without its disorganization (which is why we don't clutter our written dialogue with "um"s and "uh"s; readers will skip over that shit anyway).

sharper (i.e., more efficient), simpler dialogue will almost always sound the most natural on the page.

on the other hand, sjm's dialogue is bad because it doesn't seem to be guided toward any particular emotional or logical revelation. (this is a symptom caused by sjm's larger problem with writing scene arcs.)

the argument at the end of this chapter jumps around until apparently sjm felt like it went on long enough, and then nesta flounces away, delivering this killing blow:

"You're just a half-wild beast with the nerve to bark orders at all hours of the day and night. Keep it up, and someday—someday, Feyre, you'll have no one left to remember you, or to care that you ever existed."

except it's not a killing blow.

partly because it's in response to...well, nothing. before this, feyre says nesta would be a burden to the mandrays (which is repeated, in slightly different language, earlier in the conversation), but that's not really what their argument is about.

what's happening beneath the dialogue is a power struggle between nesta, who believes she can marry tomas mandray on her own authority, and feyre, who's decided she's the head of the family and vetoes that decision. nesta delivering a killing blow should be in response to feyre putting her foot down for good. and what she says should be more specific to their specific power dynamic.

so that's what I did in my revision. here's the link again if you want to read it in its entirety!

[margridarnauds]

🌞 🤩 🤯 for the fanfic writer asks? 💖

Thank you so much!

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

Honestly, I probably do my best in the morning when I can wake up refreshed, but since that almost never happens, late at night when there's nothing to disturb me save the ghosts of other things I should be doing.

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?

All time? For dialogue, probably Heisenberg from RE8; I miss working with him. He has this very blunt, irreverent way of speaking that he sometimes changes out for this very smooth, charismatic way of speaking where he puts a lot of emphasis on every other word (and that is always at risk of falling to pieces because it is NOT his natural state). I'm used to dealing with very aristocratic characters who are restrained, who very rarely let you know what's going on in their head, and who have this very formal way of speaking, so it was and is a joy to break out of it with him. (Raphael is very much a return to form, though he's interesting because of how much more elaborate he is with his speech -- most of my aristocrats have been military nobles to some extent or another, and so they usually have this very clipped way of speaking, but Raphael, despite always being deliberate and calculating in how he's going into a situation, ALSO talks a lot, he ornaments his language a lot. It actually makes it very hard to write him, because it's very much not intuitive for me and it's always tempting to fall back on old habits and use Lazare Voice on him.)

At the moment? Malla. I love Kitrye, but Malla is very fun specifically because she is (1) much more chaotic and (2) has some of the best dialogue, especially when you get her banter with Kitrye. You never know exactly where she's going to land during any given scene, there's always this level of unpredictability to what she's going to do (which has been an ongoing theme because, in her early days, *I* didn't know what she was going to do), and her arrival always marks a turning point. I'm very glad that she dropped into my lap one day, can't imagine doing this without her.

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

I hate writing smut. It is, bar none, my least favorite genre to write. I enjoy writing about INTIMACY, but not smut. It's very hard to not be self-conscious or to not accidentally fall into doing the same things (...I was about to say "rut"), using the same descriptions for the same actions that A Thousand Other Smutfics Do or, on the reverse, to accidentally ruin it with a single bad line. It isn't that you can relax on the characterization for ANY scene, but with smut, I'm really, really constantly having to think "okay, how would these characters do this in a way that feels real to them", because it's very easy to slip into (...no double entendre intended) porn-isms. And depending on the characters, they can take a scene in an entirely different direction and then you have to readjust for THAT. Angst is fine -- I love tearing people's hearts out and stomping on them, and it's relatively easy to do if people are already inclined to like a character. Humor? Much more difficult to stick the landing on, since it's so subjective, but still relatively easy and intuitive for me, particularly if you're willing to go into crackfic territory, and I have NEVER been particularly attached to upholding the dignity of any of the characters I've written. Action -- Not my favorite, but can still be glanced over especially since, with the exception of RE8, I've rarely NEEDED to write it. Smut? Hate.

...and yet here we are.

[umbracirrus]

So... I was tagged by both @throughtrialbyfire and @oblivions-dawn to find words in my writing... that's five each, so there's 10 I have to find!! And I think that anyone who I would likely tag back has already done this/been tagged in this so wouldn't know who to tag back...

I have to find excerpts containing Blood, Frost, Dread, Known, Awkward, Woods, Silence, Cloud, Steal, and Blade... Quite the list!!! It's going to come from a mixture of what I have posted and some WIPs which I have dotted about........ Where possible I have used excepts from The Perfect Storm (both stuff that is and isn't posted!), but have delved into other WIPs too.

1. Blood

The Perfect Storm, Chapter 6

His grasp of her wrists tightened as the blade against her neck moved slightly, forcing her into lifting her head and making eye contact with him. "I am certain that this fuss you have been making will have been all for nothing once we return to Windhelm."

Fuss? Whiterun was under attack, people were dying, houses burning, her housecarl murdered, and he thought she was fussing?!

"I will never go with you, y-you hear me?!" The blade moved higher, and she let out a hiss as she felt a sting and a small, warm rivulet of blood slip down her throat. And then... She began to laugh. Her poison may have failed, but she had one last trick up her sleeve.

2. Frost

Excerpt from the still untitled fic based around Elyse's parents, WIP.

Edwyn almost felt sick as he heard that. He had never cast any magic on Ingja, with the exception of when they had just met and her leg was injured! He was a conjuration mage, he had never touched the illusion schools of magic once in his life. But even more frightening was the threat of The Chill.

Everyone who had been in Winterhold for more than a week knew of The Chill. It was what was used instead of a conventional jail... And was far out into the Sea of Ghosts. Surrounded by naturally occurring frost atronachs, horkers, wolves... Practically a death sentence if you weren’t prepared enough to handle it. Which you wouldn’t be, because prisoners were locked up in cages, left to the whims of nature until their sentence was completed, until they escaped, or until they perished.

And Ingja’s father wanted to put him in it.

3. Dread

WIP based around my Vigilant of Stendarr-turned-Vampire Dragonborn, Iduna

A small sigh escaped her lips as she placed the amulet down on the table in front of her, and reached out for her bottle of mead. There was a slight fruitiness to its scent, one which reminded her of days long gone from her youth when she would sit with her family around a fire with mugs of berry juice, fresh from the pot above the flames and infused with spices which could only make her feel warm and safe.

Juniper berries – she was certain.

“That looks as though it has seen better days. Stendarr, right?” A voice from behind her just as she brought the bottle to her lips made her flinch, with it being the first time that anyone had actually dared say anything to her beyond pleasantries. It began to stir a deep feeling of dread within her. There was a man stood there, a look of curiosity plastered across his face as he glanced towards the amulet. “You a Vigilant or something?”

Suddenly, her throat felt dry, forcing her to quickly bring her drink to her lips before she could think of how to respond. The answer was simple, something which could be answered with a lone word, but it was one that was just not coming to her mind. “Of… a sort, you could say.”

4. Known

The Perfect Storm, Chapter 9

“It isn’t anything to do with Ulfric, if that’s what you are going to ask,” she quickly stated, though not answering the question which actually had been on the tip of the housecarl’s tongue.

“Who was it from then?”

A tired sigh escaped the Dragonborn as she shrugged and started to finally unbuckle her gauntlets and pull off her boots. “That was a letter from somebody who wanted to ‘check up on me’ because they ‘haven’t heard from me in a while’. He doesn’t actually care for me, he is contacting me out of principle,” she explained, before letting out an almost amused snort as she moved her attention towards ridding herself of her breastplate. “He doesn’t even know that I am the Dragonborn, or at the very least I haven’t told him nor care to tell him. He may have figured it out through the grapevine, but if he has, he certainly hasn’t made it known to me.”

5. Awkward

WIP for events which happen very far down the line in The Perfect Storm hehe. Had to keep this one short to prevent spoilers :)

“Balgruuf.”

“Ulfric.”

The two Jarls remained stood in the doorway, tension building between them and resulting in any guests near to the door trying to subtly move away from them. It took Galmar clearing his throat and giving Ulfric a nudge for anything further beyond the awkward stare-down to happen.

6. Woods

More of the WIP based around Iduna!

Panic began to set in when, in the distance, plumes of orange-tinted smoke began to emerge from the woods around the base of the mountains. Her body grew tense, muscles stiffening as a scalding hot bead of sweat slipped down from her forehead to her jaw to her neck.

She wasn’t even there, but she could already feel the flames licking at her skin, the combustion of wood and stone under the intense heat, the dragon’s roars-

Just like Helgen.

“Iduna! Snap out of it already!” The voice, as ever, drew the vampire from her state of panic as she gave off a pathetic little whimper, and her gaze fell towards the dog by her feet.

7. Silence

The Perfect Storm, Chapter 11

“Balgruuf, look at me.” Elyse reached out and took the circlet out of his hands, and placed it back down on the table. “They do not hate you. Trust me on that.”

They remained in a heavy silence after that, with her trying to think of anything else which she could say to reassure him, and him trying to contemplate whether he believed her. Soon enough, a thought came to mind, and she just knew that it could help with changing his perspective.

8. Cloud

WIP based around two of my Heroes of Kvatch, Drissa and Florian.

"How about we just go to Cloud Ruler Temple, as per Jauffre's suggestion, then figure out what we do from there? We can't help the fact that-! Ow!"

Drissa's teeth were bared towards Florian as she stomped on his foot angrily. "If we had actually done as I had suggested, and only handed over the amulet after we had brought Martin here, then we wouldn't even be in this situation!" She then grabbed hold of her sword, and turned her back to the three men. "I'm done with this. All of it. I've helped fulfil the Emperor's final wish, and I'm not getting involved in any more of this- this bullshit! If you want to get your hands dirtier, then fine. Better you than me."

"Wh-What? But what about our-" Florian, ignoring the ache in his foot, began to try to pursue the Dunmer as she walked away from the priory. He was stopped by Martin holding out his hand, and shaking his head. "Driss…"

9. Steal

More of Drissa and Florian!

It was an injustice that she had been arrested, and given that she had been marched right past the Black Horse Courier offices on the way there, it would be the news of the province that she had been arrested by week’s end. No matter what, her reputation would be ruined. At best, she would be having her titles stripped from her in the Arena. At worst... well, she didn’t dare consider it.

 What she was not expecting once she was brought to a halt was to see another group of guards with another person in a similar predicament to herself.

“-gems did not end up in my hands intentionally, you know. I didn't steal them, I found them. It’s not my fault that his tailor did a shoddy job at stitching up his pockets!”

Or perhaps not.

“Stolen goods are still stolen, no matter how they are obtained,” the guard at the desk stated, just as he caught sight of her. “And here comes more trouble.”

10. Blade

The Perfect Storm, Chapter 11

Her heart was racing, and a thin sheen of sweat was covering her face as she remained stood as she was, her left arm falling to her side with its blade still in hand, her right remaining held forward with its blade lodged in place. A few loose strands of hair that had barely been able to remain tied up behind had fallen loose at some point, frustratingly sticking to the side of her face. The only noise around her, beyond the faintest of breezes, was that of her heavy breathing.