#I guess he's called the servant when he was in despair?

[my-gf-is-kazuichi-soda]

I've never played Ultra Despair Girls I do not need to know the context of masochist Nagito

[y-rhywbeth2]

Hello I love bane totally normal amounts, so do you have any favorite fun (or fucked up) trivia facts about my emotional support god of tyranny?

I might've mentioned some of this before, but here's some trivia (and sometimes my musings upon it):

He has absolutely no indoor voice when he's excited. -

If you're invited to pray with the Banites and refuse, expect Bane to curse you with constant debilitating pain that prevents you from being able to cast spells (too much pain to concentrate) or fight, or walk very fast. This doesn't go away until you get a cleric to cast remove curse on you. If you do join them in honouring the Black Lord then your alignment will magically switch to lawful evil and you basically convert to Banite on the spot (if you're a priest then your god fires you immediately and won't take you back); this is either 1e nonsense or a sign of Bane brainwashing you, and either is just as likely. -

He - in his own words - has an "ever-gnawing hunger for miracles and wonder". He also has 10 levels of wizard, which might tie into that. -

He seems to have a monster making hobby. There are so many monsters and monster variants that have been copyrighted by Bane it's ridiculous: banedead, baneguard, baneliches, banelar nagas... I'm pretty sure that Bane is actually credited with creating the beholders ("eye tyrants") of Toril, though I don't have the time to go looking for a source on that.

Either way; he has a lot of beholders in his service. -

I'm pretty sure I remember something about his inventing his own traps during his stay at Zhentil Keep, so there might be an engineering hobby in there somewhere. -

He's a nerd about human biology and geeks out about blood cells and neuroscience - not that he'd admit it because the idea of being thrilled by mortality terrifies him (also I think he just hates positive emotions in general). Before the Time of Troubles he used to enjoy possessing mortals as hosts instead of manifesting avatars, which would presumably allow him to experience what they did and geek out about it while pretending he wasn't (although he didn't look after them very well and inevitably ran them into the ground - basic human needs are beneath him). -

He seems to like using black and red lightning of some sort as a kind of signature. -

(...I think this guy would be very happy as a supervillain living in his secret lab somewhere, performing mad scientist experiments as he plots to take over the world.) -

His domain can be annoying to pin down, because technically it started off in the plane of Acheron, but he's also supposed to be rooming with Loviatar and Bhaal in the Barrens of Doom and Despair in Gehenna, so who knows! -

He has a pet raven called Koravis, who he has a mild telepathic connection with. This raven is actually a fiend in the shape of a raven, but that pretty much just means he has an evil pet raven.

It's been stated that in his mortal life his character class was Blackguard - or an evil paladin, in 5e terms, dedicated to the service of evil powers. I suspect his patron was his master, the primordial Maram, who he served as a battle slave. As the evil pet raven is a Blackguard class feature (fiendish servant) I suspect he had Koravis when he was mortal. The bird/fiend was likely given to him by Maram (much like a warlock's pact familiar comes from their patron) and I guess the bird stuck with the winner. -

He managed to piss off the earth goddess Chauntea at one point, trying to destroy her sacred pools/portals in the Moonshaes. I can't find the sourcebook for the details at the moment though (it was successful enough that his followers still have the moonveil spells though). Bhaal was also trying to kill her over there at some point, so I wonder if that's connected?

[bean-bean2000]

The Maid - Part 9

Pairing: Loki x reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of violence, depression, mentions of suicide, despair, feeling trapped. Mentions of abuse and rape.

Please read at your own risk. Your own media consumption is not my responsibility. Please read and review the warnings before proceeding.

Thank you and enjoy!

Series masterlist Main Masterlist

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Loki walks to the balcony and beckons you to follow.

You see a table with a spread ready for you. It's the most food you have ever seen and the most delicious-looking.

Trying to hide your shock and anticipation at the feast, you force yourself to sit down and intertwine your fingers.

Loki begins piling food on his plate when he realizes you have yet to reach for anything.

"Do you not like anything here?" he says to you.

"Oh, um, no no I just... I don't know what I like..." you stutter.

Loki looks at you confused "What do you mean? This is standard Asgardian food."

"I've never had... they serve the servants the scraps so..." you falter.

Loki looks to you with an accusatory stare.

"You're hiding something."

You breathe in sharply and fidget in your seat.

"How do you mean?" you question him, pushing your luck.

He's the god of lies you fool. Of course he knows you're hiding something.

"They may serve the servants scraps as you say, but you've undoubtedly tried at least the basics... even if they were in the form of scraps..." he says slowly while analyzing you.

You shift under his gaze.

"I guess you're right. I must have not realized when I ate them." you lie again.

He knows you're lying. He can taste lies.

Somehow, he doesn't push further and resumes eating his lunch.

He beckons you to try and eat. You take a few bites and your eyes widen with how delicious it is.

"Mmmm oh Norns, this is fantastic!" you say with your mouth full.

Loki laughs, and you blush embarrassingly covering your mouth with your hand.

As you're eating you start to question why he is being so nice to you. This isn't the rumours you've heard... he's said to be ruthless... selfish, and careless... but here he is eating lunch with you on the balcony of chambers fit for a princess?

You're so lost in thought you don't notice Loki watching you. He's staring at you, analyzing everything you do.

"Thank you for everything... this is a lot... nobody has ever been this kind and generous to me before. It means a lot to me." you say to him, eyes locked on to his.

You notice his entire demeanour change as soon as you expressed your gratitude.

"That is all for lunch. We're done here. I've entertained the strays enough for the day. Clean this up then start your duties as my personal maid." you're shocked by the sudden change in attitude.

"Well? Are you just going to stare at me? Go on. Do your job." Loki chastises you.

Confused, you get up and start cleaning up the table.

"Oh, and I've forgotten to specify....these chambers are not yours. You will be provided a more suitable living quarters for someone of your status. These chambers are for a queen. Don't forget your place. You're a maid." Loki says to you as he walks out of the room and slams the door shut.

You stare at the table, confused and shocked at the drastic change in mood. The room falls silent.

Did he just call me a stray?

He's right. I am just a maid. How could I ever think I could be anything else?

You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes and you blink them away as your mind connects the pieces.

I was foolish. This was all some cruel trick; showing me everything I will never have. The god of trickery... he fooled me into believing I could have any of this. I trusted him... blindly. The rumours are true, he is twisted; he gets off on psychologically torturing people. I had promised myself to never trust anyone but myself again and yet he manipulated me into trusting him... the king... the god of lies and mischief...

As you're mind is spiralling you feel the anger and hurt bubbling inside you when suddenly the plates on the table fly across the room and shatter on the floor.

What the? I didn't throw those plates.. did I?...

Puzzled by the strange occurrence you keep replaying the last words he spoke to you.

You're a maid. Don't forget your place.

You repeat that to yourself multiple times as you finish cleaning the lunch table. Sighing, you gather the cleaning supplies and go into autopilot as you begin your routine.

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You finish your rounds for the day and put the supplies back. Sighing, you realize you don't know where you're supposed to stay... he said to not go back to the maid's quarters but you have nowhere else to go.

You hear the flapping wings of a crow followed by its caw. It lands on the windowsill in front of you with a note attached to its claw.

Of course he would send his pet to relay his demands.

You slowly approach it and open the note. Flickers of green scatter across the page as the message appears:

'Your new sleeping quarters: The room behind the office.'

Obviously he would place me far away from everyone else to see but close enough for me to continue my work for him.

You make your way to the office and notice a door hidden at the far back behind a corner.

You turn the knob and push it open. A small room with a cot, a wardrobe and a small bathroom, with basic amenities lays before you. It was a fraction of the size of the other chambers.

Better than the hay-filled mattress and common bathrooms I used to share.

You sit down on the chair near the desk placed in the corner of the room. Scanning your surroundings you note that the walls are simply made of stone, no heating provided for the colder months ahead. Nothing you haven't survived before. A small square window in the middle of a wall sheds some bit of sunlight into the space.

On the bedside table you see a cloth with stale bread and nuts, with a glass of water.

Back to the usual menu I see...

You sit on the cot.

At least I get my own space.

You lay down and stare at the ceiling, contemplating your current situation.

I never have a choice. They are always made for me. This is my new life for now, until he decides he no longer needs me and I'm thrown into the wild to my own devices. It wouldn't be the first time.

You shiver as the nightmares from past flow through your head. Shaking your head to rid of the thoughts, you turn to lay on your side, your back still sore, amongst other injuries that have yet to fully heal.

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Over the next few days, your routine remains the same. Today you're assigned a new section, the library.

You push open the doors and gasp at the immensity of the room. The walls are lined with floor to ceiling bookshelves, a staircase in the middle leads up to a second floor with a couch and another room filled with books.

You're overcome with excitement and immediately start walking throw every aisle, scanning what books he has.

When's the last time I stepped foot in a library? Let alone held a book in my hands...

One of them catches your eye and you pluck it from the shelf and delicately open it. You sigh with content at the familiarity and protection you feel from holding a book.

A way out... mentally, momentarily... to keep my sanity and forget who I am. An imaginary shield around my heart, keeping reality at bay, daydreaming to be someone, somewhere, I could only dream of... a fairytale of course.

You breathe in deeply the smell of the book, sighing again, feeling your shoulders relax for the first time in ages. The book is filled with the same stories you vaguely recall your parents reciting to you as a child. You're filled with nostalgia as you flip through the pages, smiling at the memories.

"I didn't know you liked to read." Loki says from across the room. You gasp, eyes wide, shutting the book closed quickly and placing it back in its spot on the shelf.

You decide not to reply and start gathering your supplies again to resume your cleaning.

Loki watches you as he approaches. You're dusting the shelves when he comes behind you, merely inches from you and takes the same book out.

Your heart is racing.

How dare I touch anything that is his without permission? Another reason for punishment. Damn it, I couldn't help it... old habits die hard.

You're plucked from your thoughts as his voice carries through the room.

"A storybook? These are for children." he states as he flips through the pages.

Again, you remain quiet and continue your work.

"Most servants are illiterate. How do you know how to read?" he questions as he leans against the bookshelf behind you.

Without turning around to face him you reply "My father taught me."

"Hmmm... and who was your father?" he pushes further.

"He was once a professor."

"So, you can read higher than this level I presume. Why choose this book then, out of everything else in this library?" he questions.

You're furiously dusting, trying to distract your racing heart. Keeping your back to him "My father read them to me at night. I read them to my parents when they fell ill." you reply stiffly.

Your once nostalgic joyful moment now soured by the painful memories of the beginning of your suffering.

"Why aren't you facing me when you speak?" he questions.

You pause and let out a quick breath "I'm trying to finish my work on time, your highness. I know you highly appreciate punctuality."

"You still haven't learned that I know when you're lying?"

You huff in annoyance and turn around facing him "I'm not lying. I would like to finish the work on time to avoid punishment for tardiness, my king" you bite our rather harshly. Your eyes widen again at your outburst.

You swallow thickly.

He approaches you slightly and raises his arm. Your gasp and flinch away. Shutting your eyes tightly, arms tucked to your chest in protection.

You don't see the way Loki's body shifts uncomfortably at your instinctual reaction. He continues his movement of his arm and places the book back on the shelf. He watches as you're shaking, shrinking into yourself.

What happened to you? he asks himself.

You wait for the pain but when nothing happens you open your eyes slowly and see him staring at you with his eyebrows raised.

"Not the entire truth but close enough." he says smugly.

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[searchingforserendipity25]

a soft post-thangorodrim ficlet for @thelordofgifs <3

-

Fingon could not seem to cease laughing. He would begin to compose himself, sweep back his braids from his face and clean his cheeks of tears of mirth; glance once more at Maedhros, and be lost once more.

“If you are quite finished,” Maedhros said, chill as the frost growing upon Mithrim’s shores.

“I am, I am!” Fingon drew a deep, shuddering breath. He had to turn away a little, to remove the smile from his face. “Give me but a moment, and I shall be everything grave.” 

Maedhros took that instant to try out  a grimace.

He could not bear to unwind himself into emotion. In captivity, the sophisticated, ruthless dignity he had borne as a prince had become a ruthless mastery of himself.

He could not allow himself to show fear, or wrath; mirth was for defiance only, a dangerous leverage, used in the secrecy of his own spirit against his own despair far more often than against Gorthaur or his servants. 

So well he had sought not to be enthralled! He could not find his way out of the chains he had wound for his own safe-keeping, now.

It did not follow his breast did not warm, to hear Fingon’s marvelous, snorting laughter.

Once, he had been able to laugh with Fingon with the greatest ease, at the slighted provocation. Even the most practiced and deliberate of his smiles had been easy, and beeautiful to behold. He had been proud of his bearing – proud and careful in its polish, as if it were a great inheritance passed down from his parents. A great burden, to be done justice to – which it had been. Maitimo,  most fair of the princes of Valinor; Finwe’s second heir.

“Do not pay me any mind, I am being most unkind to a good apprentice's try. You will recall mine own were so much worse at that age! It is only that it is so very sweet,” Fingon said earnestly, eyes bright with a whicked gleam. “Tyelperinquar missed you so dearly.”

Fingon – it was Fingon, marvellous and impossible. For him, Maedhros made such efforts. He woke; he moved; he ate; he teased. He moved his face, a little, now.

It was enough. Even the weak flicker of it reboubled upon Fingon’s face.

“I am aware this is the ugliest tiara any Noldo has ever wrought,” Maedhros said, striving for rueful and striking nearer to grim. He tilted his chin, let the overwrought silver circlet with its wildly mismatched jewels slide pointedly down his brow. 

Sweet - quite sweet, indeed.

The sight of the gift in his nephew’s soft hands had nearly wrenched Maedhros into silence, struck him more painfully than his brother’s cutting anger when presenting the true, far more beautiful crown he was to wear for Fingolfin’s coronation.

Fingon’s smile softned. He made it look so easy. It had not been easy, in the Ice, to find the will or the strength to fight the calcifying frost – but Fingon, Maedhros could tell, had kept up the practise of it. His heart had ever been his strength. The long journey had tempered it, turned it into a powerful force strange to Maedhros’ understanding of his dearest friend and of mighty authority both.

The Dispossessed, they called him now. Maedhros approved. It suited the accords he had settled with Fingolfin, it established as truth the fiction-making of politics. A bitter burden, but he had even been used to carrying such. It felt true enough to his ears, which boded well for the solidity of the arrangement.

 “Russandol,” Fingon said, the name he had made a sound of love so long ago. He upturned his palm, offering it – without expecting Maedhros to hold it, offering nonetheless.

It took his breath away, as surely as if his chain had been wrenched. Maehdors could not begin to guess what his face revealed; he could not have hidden anything of his heart from Fingon, even if he had tried with all his will.

Scarred and altered and cheerless Maedhros might be; the look in Fingon’s eyes when he looked at him remained more familiar than the stars in the sky. “Darling. Tyelperinquar shall be a great jeweller one day, but there is no need to sigh for that day; you are wondrous to behold as you are.”

[shortpplfedup]

Only Friends Character Rankings Episode 9

A contemplative episode this week, as most of the characters stop struggling and start accepting some shit. But while some people come to correct conclusions (Ray and Mew break up, but can you call it a break up if you were never actually together?), others just decide to make the same mistakes and hope for different outcomes (Sand keeps trusting Ray instead of himself; Mew decides to give Top another chance). We're moving into the last act of the story now, and it's anybody's guess where we land up when the dust settles. Last week y'all judged Ray the most audacious by a mile. Lemme put my glasses on and see who I'm feeling this week.

🔺1. Nick (6)

Team Second Option!

Nick and Sand's loser friendship and their self-awareness of same is one of the most delightful parts of a truly delightful show. I can totally believe Nick suggested them hooking up, this is EXACTLY how these things go. Them dissolving into giggles over their kiss and cuddling each other to sleep was a beautiful friendship moment. Another beautiful moment was Nick's acceptance that he really had just fucked things up with Boston (we will ignore the fact that the boy just can't HELP spying on that man having sex with other people🤣), apologising in a heartfelt way and attempting to move on. I think Nick's heart might be the only one at ease at the end of this ep, so he wins the week.

⭐2. Boeing

My room is right here as well.

IT'S MOND IT'S MOND IT'S MOND MOND IS HERE AND HE LOOKS GOOD AS FUCK! It's time to find out what the hell this is all about, but whatever it is looks kinda fucked which YES.

🔺3. Sand (11)

We are just masochists.

The loser camping trip did a lot to make me feel less irritated with Sand this week. Sand has always been incredibly self-aware about how much him having feelings for Ray is a suck move, but having him state it all so baldly and call himself a masochist this episode did move the needle for me. Architect of his own misery? Yes, but knowing he lowhighkey ENJOYS the misery makes all the difference. You know what king, you do you. Swing wildly between euphoria and despair while you're young enough to find it exciting.

🔻4. Boston (2)

Gay, straight, pan, whatever the fuck you want to be. I just opened your eyes.

Oh sis, I saw you trying there, but the lack of impulse control as always will land you in trouble. He should have sent Atom packing after that party, but sad, lonely and pissed off are a bad combo, and one thing Boston consistently does is make poor decisions when he's feeling some typa way. He clearly served up a top tier dicking though, because Atom is in LOVE. Inconvenient at best. As I keep saying though: you can't keep a bad bitch down, and Boston's one of the baddest. This too shall pass.

🔺5. Ray (12)

I am thick-skinned. I don't care.

*deep negro spiritual sigh* How DARE you bust up the loser camping trip Raymond. I'll not forgive you for that one. Ray, rejected by Mew, demands Sand's company for an ego-boosting dopamine hit (including the sex that Mew denied him, natch), continuing to treat him like a servant and a possession. But this time Sand calls him on it, and that maybe means he thinks about it a little? TBD. I do think Ray WAS actually honest this episode about his feelings (hence the rise in rank), but he was still trying to get what he wanted out of Sand. He and Mew ended their ill-advised relationship as friends though, so that's a positive. Rehab seems to be on the menu next week so anything's possible. I still think these two are terrible for each other, but they're 21, I guess it's allowed.

🔺6. Top (7)

I just want you to know that the person you think loves you the most is not that good.

Watching Top work Mew's moms over all Mew's objections was gross, and I'm fortified anew in my feeling that this dude's vibes are just OFF. Top...circling Mew like this, working Cheum, working his moms, making the move to excise Ray but not actually pulling the trigger because he knows taking the high road will appeal to Mew...look this show has 3 more eps to prove me wrong but something ain't RIGHT with this 'un. Top's money, his good looks, his sweet words, that's all it seems anybody pays attention to, but something underneath...anyway, his strategy's working, right up until the moment Mew runs into Boeing on his fucking doorstep.

🔻7. Mew (3)

I just thought if I became someone else, I'd be stronger.

Well the slut spiral was fun while it lasted, but I guess the morning after a coke bender is generally unpleasant and Mew's a paper tiger not a real G. Mew's trying to keep up the party boy persona but he's not built for this shit, his heart's not in it and Ray trying to literally get in his pants crashed him back to reality. He's totally going back to Top, Boeing or no Boeing.

⭐8. Mew's moms

I saw you on Mew's Instagram. You look better in person.

Oof. Look they're cute and they obviously love Mew, but their son is clearly uncomfortable and unhappy with Top around and they're ignoring that. They may not know what happened, but the room ain't THAT hard to read.

🔻9. Atom (1)

Did I just get nailed and bailed?

Atom tried dick exactly once and it's got him outside Boston's house in the middle of the night begging for more of the same. My bunny boiler hopes have fizzled for both Nick and Sand, maybe Atom is the one I've been waiting for.

🔹10. Yo (10)

Good can't buy love.

Mae Yo with the read this week: 'good can't buy love'. I really want Mom and Cool Stepdad back together. GO GET YOUR MAN YO!

🔻11. Daddy Dan (4)

I'm not going to be your boss tonight. Call me Daddy Dan.

The cringe is through the roof. Well he might get to sniff it but a sniff's all he's gonna get before Nick's back in Boston's bed, and that's just a matter of time at this point.

🔻12. Cheum (8)

The evil spirit left you already, huh?

Will Cheum ever learn to mind the business that pays her? Her lack of interest in her brother's clear and obvious heartbreak is contrasted unfavourably with her overinvestment and overinvolvement in the Mew/Top saga. I also somehow feel like last week's self-interested moment of solidarity with Boston won't survive contact with her brother getting exactly what he asked for and breaking his own heart with it.

[mediterraneanmenace]

[I send you a pestilence such as the world has never seen. Your rivers will turn into blood and plague will seep into your sleep, into your dreams...] [... And when hope has been whittled down to the very marrow of despair, that's when you'll come knocking on our door]

It's done, finally. The "cover art" for my BG3 prequel. (Also fun fact: Raksha is 7'1". I just like drawing Cambion!Raphael big)

A Holy Inquisitor and a Devil. Sacred and Profane. AKA how these two will start as a loving couple only to end up in a spiral of mutual destruction.

Buckle up, we go into a lengthy character analysis below.

The reason he got attracted to her in the first place is pure, unfiltered narcissism: he saw himself in her ego, her ambition and personality. Said attraction turned into affection and eventually love when she told him about her past - mirrors of each other. Raphael also becomes very protective with Raksha - to a fault.

(This will be explained further in the story itself) Raksha herself was happy to find someone who wouldn't look at her with fear (reverential or not) and that would enjoy watching the operas/theatre plays she loves.

They're similar but opposites: one being the literal son of one of Hell's Archdevils and the other a messianic archetype who unknowingly has Archdevil blood (Baalzebul's) herself - close enough to be relevant but NOT enough for her to be a Cambion.

Raksha was adopted and raised by a strict archdeacon in a cathedral as proof that he could "turn a devil into a saint", so you can already guess her views on things like sexuality (she and her companions have a literal vow of chastity going on).

She demonizes sexuality and doesn't live her attraction to Raphael well (let alone when she finds out he's a Cambion. Girl was ready to break her vow for him). But he does help her to get a more healthy view on intimate stuff. :)

Raksha "sends the plagues" (spells like Contagion and Insect Plague) to villages that - according to her or the religious institutions that call for her help - need the divine help of Ilmater to purify themselves from their sins. Her idea is that, if you survive, you have successfully repented. Of course, some people would rather make a deal with someone like Raphael to live than trust the divine forces that put them through such torment.

In the piece you can see how it's Raphael sneaking a hand under her shirt and holding her tail with his - she's *trying* to appear as the virtuous one resisting temptation but is actually smiling complicit. The uncensored piece is a bit more... Explicit about it. [ You can find it on my 18+ Twitter @/paprikadust :) ]

Raksha is young (she's 23, 24 when they marry) and never had a relationship before, so she mistakes his possessiveness for love until she finally snaps (a big factor for this is finding out about Hope), escapes and goes into hiding after 6 years together. Raphael being himself of course becomes absolutely obsessed to find his wife. (I mean, before actually even talking to her, he stalked Raksha for 4 years. From 19 to 23)

Also I'm not a fan of people forgetting about what he did to Hope. I think he's actually quite dominant with Raksha in bed and does have servants checking on her whenever he can't be close enough to control what she does.

The prequel ends as the events of Baldur's Gate 3 take place.

Also closeup. :D

[shattersstar]

i’d still eat the fruit

pairing: dracula x vampire!reader

warnings: minor blood/gore mention, slight angst

excerpt: While he had no care for humanity or their many ideas, if love was another one of their creations, he had reverence for it. He wondered what it would be like to have your heart beat for another, to breathe for another. He was ill equipped for such loving, full of too much destruction and despair for sugar sweet wonderings like that.

a/n: this could be read as like Any version of dracula or even just a vampire in general but I wrote this with dracula from castlevania in mind (and meier link from vampire hunter d: bloodlust if im being honest) feedback is appreciate as always !

—

“Hello my lord.” Your voice had broken through the quiet of his study, the sound of the fire crackling in front of him suddenly fell to a hush as you crossed the room. Dracula let out a low chuckle, slouched in his chair and staring into the flames.

“You needn’t call me that.” He stated as you rounded the space where he sat.

“Is it not your title?” You asked, head falling to the side as he continued to watch the fire.

“Not to you. Not anymore.” He blinked up at you, eyes redder than wine. Your lips pulled into a smile, stepping closer. When you had once waited for his permission to approach, you now did it freely—almost tauntingly half the time. You liked to dangle beyond his grasp, something he had once considered you—out of reach—but he knew you’d come if he so beckoned you with his blood red eyes, and dangerous mouth. So he did. A small grin and held gaze had you closing the distance, your hand coming to cradle his cheek. Your fingertips grazed the midnight black of his hair, your index finger twirling a few strands before you dropped your hand back to your side, or tried too. He caught your wrist before you could, holding you in place, a soft expression falling over his often too serious face. “Why do you play such games?” He wondered, watching you go a bit sheepish. You were never good at being caught.

Hundreds of years old, wiser than most of your kind, but still easily embarrassed. You hadn’t used such titles in decades, you were not some general or servant he ruled over. You were moonlight to him, glowing light and beauty with enough strength to command tides and bring upon night. He wondered if you had been a goddess of the moon in some version of your life before him, worshipped and adored by millions. Now you were only worshipped by one, but he was more than enough. He may adore you, but you loved him all the same. You often told Dracula you wished he had turned you, had gotten to taste your blood and to bind you to him forever.

“You are not something to be bound my love. You are not meant to be limited.” He had told you some time ago, while you were wrapped up in his arms and staring up at him with more love than he imagined all of humanity could muster.

“Games?” You questioned, gaining some of your composure. “You make me sound childish my lo—“

“My love.” He corrected before you could even tease. “And I would never call you such a thing, but you already know that.”

“I do.”

“So you admit to playing games?”

“I admit to keeping you guessing.” He let his hand slide down your wrist and over your hand, but still dropped it nonetheless. You watched as his hand found the edge of his flowing cloak and lifted the fabric. He was beckoning and you obliged with speed only humans dreamed of. You were pressed next to him in an instant, somehow managing to fit on his grand chair, cape draped over you as well now. You let your hand find his underneath the fabric, squeezing it before you rested your head on his shoulder. “I came here with the purpose of bringing you to bed.” You murmured, the sun would be rising in an hour.

“We can go—“

“No, I want to stay like this, just for now.” You pushed yourself closer to him, unsure how he managed to stay warm despite the death that filled his veins. He hummed, cheek pressing into the top of your head as the sound of the fire filled the space once again. You both watched it glower and dance before your eyes, something mesmerizing in its movement that even, with all his knowledge, Dracula still held a bit of wonder for man’s simplest creation. The light it emitted flickered across the abyss like blackness of his cloak, keeping the two of you hidden underneath the rolling fabric. It was a moment of softness in your lives that often lacked such things. You two were all fangs and razor sharp claws—notorious vampires known for incredible carnage devoted to holding one another before the sun rises.

And while he had no care for humanity or their many ideas, if love was another one of their creations, he had reverence for it. He wondered what it would be like to have your heart beat for another, to breathe for another. He was ill equipped for such loving, full of too much destruction and despair for sugar sweet wonderings like that. Yet, you were the same—capable of violence and pain, and just as beautiful with the moonlight glowing against your skin or blood dripping from your mouth. He wasn’t meant to love as humanity did, and neither were you. You loved each other as only two vampires could, with more hunger for each other than the hot red blood that kept you alive.

So he found his own words to express such sentiments, words only Dracula could say and truly mean. “I would cull this wretched world ten times over for you beloved.” He said, staring down at you and drawing your gaze back to him. Your brow raised and your eyes searched for what spurred such sentiments. It was spurred by your sheer existence, your sweeping lashes and fangs peaking out. Your very reason for being in his embrace, to beckon him to bed because you simply hated sleeping without him, how could you not know it was you?

“I would never ask that of you.” You replied, still searching for an answer that was right in front of your face. He only chuckled, your free hand slipped from between your bodies to cup his cheek. He leaned into your touch, ice cold, but still his to love. Your thumb swiped along his cheekbone, just below his eye.

“You wouldn’t need to.” Dracula returned, mouth meeting yours. He kissed you with insistence, fangs grazing your bottom lip before his tongue found its way to yours. Your fingers curled into his face slightly, trying to find purchase while you let him kiss you with as much desire as he wanted. His free hand came to the back of your neck, palm resting on the curve of your skull as he held you to him. He’d kiss you till the sun came up and threatened to kill you both. He’d hold you till the stake pierced his heart or holy water burned his skin. He’d love you as humanity shunned the last of your kind and began the world again.

He would tear out his heart—bloodied and raw—and cast it aside as long as you crawled into the hole left in his ribcage and promised to stay forever.

And forever was the only promise you two could make.

[random-senpai]

Master Rule Guesses

Pain - If Tozuka knows anything, it's foreshadowing, and imo there's plenty for Pain to be the first Master Rule. The main thing is that God is an asshole (Sun mainly, Luna is too though tbh), making the first thing consistent through loops be Pain and suffering fits their MO. Second, remember in the first loop back when Juiz talks to Victor the first thing he recalls about his experience is the pain from the vacuum of space, and when Luna talks to Fuuko after Earth is destroyed, she talks about Andy's pain just like Victor's. Third is the commentary from the UMAs themselves. Some of them can't recall anything other than being told to bring Pain and suffering to humanity from a voice they assume to be God and wreak havoc as an offering to God. Others are actively forced to bring it and are taken over when they try to defy him (Spring my beloved). Master Rule 1 being Pain also explains why he looks more regular than the rest. Pain is naturally ingrained into every living being, so there's no need for him to be over the top or flashy. His appearance falls in line with the more modern idea of a sadist. He's well-dressed, attractive, and charming. His attitude towards Fuuko could be seen in that way too. Like a predator playing with its prey, amused to see it fighting back before crushing it beneath its might.

Death - Originally I was thinking that she was Faith or something like Religion. But some people pointed out the similarities between her carrying Luck and Andy and Fuuko alongside what #3 says she smells like. Then I got to thinking about it more. A nun being Death makes perfect sense as she's a servant of god. Death is what drags people into despair and suffering, whether it's their own mortality or losing someone they hold dear. With how much importance Sun places on UMAs bringing humanity pain and suffering, it makes sense that the next thing he makes consistent in the loops. Well, after pain and suffering itself. Making her a Nun is consistent with how death serves as one of God/Sun's greatest servants.

Sex - No real questions about it. DNA in her hair, the fact that she has the appearance of an attractive woman. Sex being both the scientific definition as well as a "sexy" femme fetale is pretty much self explanatory. The only thing I would like to add is that the numbering makes sense that she's the next Master Rule after Death. By bringing in reproduction to the world more lives are born, which means there's more people to die and suffer.

Luck (pretty much confirmed) - No real question about this either. Even if it wasn't for #2 calling them "Lucky" you could tell from the design alone. On their head is the Wheel of Fortune and on their cheek is a bandage. Tozuka loves to make Negators and UMAs share something visually. For Enshin and Burn they have similar hair. For Chikara and Move they both have dice. For Fuuko and Luck they both have the bandage. Also another fun thing to note is that Luck is the 4th master rule. The number 4 is actually infamously unlucky in China to the point where casino tables outright skip it due to high Chinese player bases. Why? because it's pronounced almost identically to "Death". Which further adds into my theory that #2 is Death.

Fair - Originally thought it was Justice due to the knight motif. But someone on Reddit pointed out and hypothesized that it was Fair due to the fact they have spurs on their shoes just like Billy. Given the other negators sharing a design aspect with their UMAs I agree with them. A knight being the personification of fair also makes sense as they're seen as enforcers of their lord's authority. Also it's very reminiscent of the Judges from FFXII.

War/Violence - The uniform reminiscent of Nazi Germany. The half bone face and smoking a cigar. Alot of people think it's War and I agree with them for the most part. But part of me thinks that he might be Violence itself and he's dressed in war attire because that's where he's at his peak.

Change - People think that it may be Time because of the clock and he's an old man. But I think he might be Change because he's like the antithesis of Gina. And old man with fashion inspired by western culture, is the opposite to when she was projecting herself to be a young woman in Gyaru fashion. I think that like Gina in loop 100 this isn't his true form and is a "shell" that he's projecting to appear as an old man the way she was projecting herself to be forever young with her unchanging makeup shell. Plus with how central Gina has been to Fuuko this loop having Change itself as part of the enemy roundtable makes it an interesting battle to look forward to.

Knowledge - Not much to say about this. She has a bookish appearance and hasn't looked up from her reading at all lol. The headpiece being architecture is interesting though and reminiscent of older buildings. Her librarian-esque appearance combined with the buildings on her head could be a nod to the famous Library of Alexandria.

Dominance/Instinct - The more feral design, he gives off the vibes of an "Alpha" in the ACTUAL meaning, not the weird stuff that insecure dudes have been saying they are. Specifically the Alpha Male of a wolf pack, going by the pelt he wears. I think he will represent the more bestial urges in living beings, whether that being their natural survival instincts, or the authority to dominate those weaker, it's yet to be determined.

Sick (confirmed) - Cut in half lol

[aaronburrdaily]

July 18, 1809

Yesterday I found * * * * ¹ tea that appeared to be good. Bought % pound, and treated myself to a dish by way of supper. Took two cups moderately strong. Finding that I should not sleep, I did not go to bed. Passed the night in reading French plays and arranging my notes on Swedish jurisprudence. I can’t bear even the smell of tea, though nothing more grateful. But the bare scent would, I believe, keep me awake. Despairing of letters, I will wait no longer, but be off. You would never guess whither, nor why! In December, however, I shall be on your continent. P. M.—No sort of disposition to sleep. At 4 fillibonka. At 6 to Poppius's to talk law; out. To Helvig’s ; the ladies had not left town. Y: Silversparri, who sang; deemed the finest voice in Stockholm. Home at 8 and set to reading plays. This morning called at Breda's to see your picture. It has been varnished and is perfectly restored. It is very much (and very justly) admired. How much I wish I could get a copy made by Breda! Raining hard all day and evening. Read till 12. The plays are: “Le Judgement de Midas,²” three acts, prose, par M. d’Hele, Paris: 1778; a very trifling little thing; the music and scenery may make anything charming. “Misanthrope Repentir³” traduit de l’allemand de Kotzebu par Bursay; Paris an: VIII.⁴ I like this better than the English translation under the name of the “Stranger.” “Camille ou le Souterrain,⁵” three acts, Paris: 1791; par Marsollier. A jealous husband without any reasonable cause confines Camille, a very lovely and virtuous woman, a whole year in a deep vault, lying on the ground, subsisting on a scanty portion of coarse bread and water. He is suspected of having killed her, and being seized by order of the King, the story comes out. Camille is too happy that her honour is justified and she restored to her dear husband. They embrace and all is made up; not even an apology on his part. Is it possible that a Parisian audience in ‘91 could relish such a tale! In the first scene there is something like wit and humour; afterwards a series of impossibilities and absurdities. “Le Jeune Sage et le Vieux Fou⁶”; one act, par Hoffman; Paris: 1793; well enough for a bagatelle. “Raoul Sire de Crequi⁷”; three acts, par M. Monvel; Paris: 1789; well enough calculated for stage effect. “Felix ou l’Enfant Trouve⁸”; anon.; Paris: 1778; impossibilities and absurdities in quantity; without wit or humour. “Jeu de la Fortune ou les Marionettes⁹”; five acts, par L.B. Picard; Paris: 1806; full of rapid reverses of fortune; love and friendship follow wealth and abandon poverty; men, women, servants, all rascals, time-serving, cringing sycophants; the only exception is a little paysanne¹⁰ who adheres to her lover through all changes, though he had abandoned her when he became suddenly rich; the design of the play is well illustrated, but gives a most disgusting, probably true, picture of the times.

1  Undecipherable. 2  “The Judgment of Midas.” 3  Should be “Misanthropie et Repentir.” “Misanthropy and Repentance.” 4  Translated from the German of Kotzebue by Bursay; Paris: Year VIII. 5  “Camille, or the Vault.” 6  “The Wise Youth and the Old Fool.” 7  The actual title is “Raoul de Crequi.” 8  “Felix, or the Foundling.” 9  “The Game of Fortune, or the Puppet-show.” 10  Peasant girl.

[ivfrankenstein]

got power over me; 

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Halbrand/Sauron x fem!reader 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘:

“It's not an enviable fate they've given you. There’s s no mercy in tying you to me.” “It was you, not them, who did the tying. Wasn't it you who named me that precious word — lover? Aren't we bound by the same ties?”

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: maia!reader, angst/fluff here, guess it’s star-crossed lovers trope 𝐚/𝐧: seren — star [in welsh]. gif: @ladyhawke​; eng not my 1st language, so be merciful for mistakes, my stars 🫶🏻

𝕹𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖁𝖆𝖑𝖆𝖗 understood the purposes of the One so clearly as Manwë. With Manwë dwelt Varda, Lady of the Stars, and the light of Iluvatar still lived in her face. Melkor feared her more than all others whom Eru made. Back in the days when Melkor's misdeeds began, an idea was sent to Varda to summon a spirit she had created earlier from the Light of the Stars, capable of bringing back those of the good powers who had been seduced by Melkor's darkness.

That light of the combined creation of Manwë and Varda was to reveal the true path to those of Morgoth's devotees who were still capable of seeing it and hesitating.

By the time Serena was descended upon Arda, the Great Enemy had fallen, but his strongest and most loyal servant was still wandering among the living, bringing himself into voluntary exile. Only one and only once did he fall into the despair that led to his repentance. He was called by many names by those who suffered at his hand, but Sauron was his last. 

In those relatively early years of Y/N's life, a name Serena bore in Middle–earth, she lived by instinct rather than orders from above, the way she was able to. Left alone to face all the new things, Y/N was just at the stage of exploring the world that was to become her home for centuries when, along with the rest, she faced Mairon. Which is why, when the two met, it was more of an accident than a successful hunt. But that’s a different story from this one.

That one was about how it's not hard to stop a dagger when it's already so close to someone else's chest, and also how it's not hard to be penetrated by another. This story, on the other hand, is about what you have to deal with when trust isn’t your strong suit after all. 

“Even if it was me who did the tying, I won't let it be used against me.” 

Many days in this wilderness and in this hut overgrown with moss on the outside. No longer than usual, in fact. But apparently too little space, and in its absence, too palpable is the addiction into which he has driven himself and not even noticed. 

“Used? W-what do you think it is? The nets I cast to catch you?” 

Y/N always deftly handled his temperament — not fervent, but at times so chilling that it scorches better than any fire. But this time Halbrand noticed how her lower lip trembled slightly. He didn't care if it was caused by the anger he'd driven her to, or by resentment. All he wanted was to push her to the level of vulnerability to which he himself had reached, so it would be fair.  

“It could become them,” dense shadows ran across his face, dispersed by the warm light of the candles, as he stepped back to curtain the small window. “Have you forgotten what you were created for in the first place?” he looked at Y/N half-turned, just enough to see her reaction, but not enough for her to see his.

Such a typical move of his. Which, in context, is a silent acknowledgement that Sauron is almost defeated, and it touches those deep strings of Y/N's heart that make her cheeks blush. It was obvious that she shared this defeat with him, though to his eyes it remained hidden. 

“You don't think they're proud of what you've accomplished in this, do you?” he taunted Y/N on purpose, outwardly mocking the way she had missed, failed, and fallen, keeping quiet that it was actually him who did all of this. With an impenetrable grin on his face, Halbrand feared that Y\N would seriously back down, obey his deceptive speeches or voice of reason, or anything else that would raise doubts in her faith in him. 

He was seeking devotion, and that devotion was a treasure she would not give him so easily.

“Take off your cynical mask when it's me you're talking to.” Y/N said sternly and rose from her seat, “You wanted me to call you Halbrand,” she took a step toward him, keeping his provocative gaze on her, “so deign not to treat me as if it were Melkor's right hand that appeared before me.” 

“But it is.” Halbrand was gloomy, like an enraged sky before the onset of a rainstorm, and it was almost like he physically exhaled the flames he was diligently extinguishing somewhere in the depths. 

Yet, Y/N kept walking forward, “No, not anymore,” her palm reached his chest and he shuddered, “You were created like Mairon, and there wasn't a single trace on you of what torments you now,” she could feel how his heart pounded out of his ribcage through the thin fabric of his tunic, “The traces will go away if you let them.” She stared at the throbbing vein on Halbrand's neck for a long moment, then looked up at him, “Is it possible for you to let them?” 

Her lips were in such a pleasant, pampering closeness and it made him so angry. It was a desire... something, in this mortal form, that Halbrand had to get used to for quite a while. He ran his hand across Y/N cheekbone the way it was the blade of a knife, not his finger. 

“If all this turns out to be the intention they put in you, my Serena, just to punish me..” he grabbed her neat face, “It'd better not be, because I'm going to be dead pissed.” 

Y\N only laughed at it, “You should know me better than that.” she found his hand, only briefly averting her gaze from his eyes fixed on her, and wove their fingers together, “But instead, you choose to be blind.” 

Whether it was the sweetness inherent in a woman's nature or the the prodding effect of Maiar, Halbrand, yet, wanted to believe that this was how love was functioning. He had only basic notions of this curse, but even that was enough for him to classify himself as one of these poor doomed men as well. This weakness, seeping into him like poison, urged him to give in, to give more than he had, to the one he had chosen (or not chosen), but wanted to keep near him either way. 

He was holding Y/N by the chin when, for the first time, the crystals of tears gathered at the border of her fluttering lashes became obvious to him. Her soul languished in oppressive anticipation for at least a word, his word, to be spoken. 

“I will spend entire years needing you if you ever abandon me.” he said in a low voice, “Will your love be enough not to condemn me to such a fate?” 

Y\N gently moved her palm to Halbrand's neck, and softly drew him to her until their foreheads touched. To her relief, he followed easily. “I don't know what our fate is, Hal,” his breath was warm on her, and it reminded her that this was reality, a peaceful one, not that which she was accustomed to in all her chilling visions, “Is yours enough to keep us both from getting there?”

[livixbobbiex]

Stone tablets translated to regular English

CONTAINS STORY SPOILERS FOR ZELDA TEARS OF THE KINGDOM YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

So Wortsworth gives you his interpretation of the text, but he leaves out a lot. I tried my best to rewrite the tablets in understandable English. In some cases I had to change the grammar to make sense, and I had to guess a lot of words (they also arent consitent in the game), but I think this is decent enough. Thought I'd share because it took me a while to figure it out.

Tablet #1 - Account of a celebration

So sweet the song of King Rauru, and so great the beauty of his sister's dance, that my eyes and ears were held captive.

And so when queen Sonia gazed upon us all, I felt that her heart also fall captive.

Servant's life, though much laboursome, has much joy as well. Long be the life of the royal family that I love so.

Tablet #2 - The strong queen and the receptive king

Sonia, queen to Hyrule's king, by birth a Hylian priestess, herself born of land, not of the sky above.

She speaks with an open heart, honest to all, even to the Zonai's king.

This king thinks it's a good advantage to learn of the land folk. To see his head bent to listen is such pleasure.

Tablet #3 - The harmonious couple

Often was Rauru, king of keen blades, away from his real work in favour of the hunt.

And often queen Sonia, queen of keen insight, would seek him out and repair this king to kingly business.

In her sapience she seems divine, that she can always find him and for his folly he seems the more human.

And the king? Oh, he laughed. He is not her equal for her wit, he knew. And the queen, she laughed too, as she scolded him .

Tablet #4 - A pilgrimage of light

The king was late to come this evening, so the queen shared tales of her land, of shrines of green glow.

Of early days since Hyrule's founding have diverse monsters besieged and assaulted her realm.

Unstopping in strife, they brought despair to folks' lives. King and Queen beset themselves to bring the scrouge to and end.

With might of light and power, they had been driven aback, and the royal couple made these shrines to seal them away.

These holy seals are called shrines of light.

Great king, great queen, I thank you. You fought when I was a maiden child, so that tomorrow could pass.

Tablet #5 - The researcher Mineru

Queen Mineru, the King's older sister, falls so deep in her books that she often forgets to eat or sleep.

In my worried way I have done what much I can, but I fear that it has been to little avail.

Of late she talks about 'constructs' things that she made with her hands as a vessel for her spirit when her body falls.

So, said she might she live longer, in spirit housed within this 'construct'.

Though, Mineru never seems to hold any deciept, by my faith, I cannot truly believe these words.

Tablet #6 - The foreign princess

The weather is very fine this morning, and I have an audience with the princess said to be kin by a few distant years to queen Sonia.

By grace she has been given a name most sweet, of Zelda she has been called.

Certain folk stirred suspicion, for strange were her garments and so was her appearance.

Yet would her countenance and bearing made proof of her right blood and bond to Queen Sonia.

Also Zelda will remain with us for a while, I will myself as handmaiden offer her kind services.

Tablet #7 - The free spirited Zelda

Princess Zelda recently comes to see Mineru, the King's older sister. I come with her to serve her.

Today came it came to pass that Mineru showed to Zelda the construct I had seen all together.

Zelda, she much desired to ride on it, and and nothing I could could warn could stop her. Though I did protest. Loudly.

Never the less she made to sit high upon the constructs shoulders and to ride it like a horse, all full of grace.

My impression, so great already, did grow all the more.

Tablet #8 - The latest trend

New fashion favourite garments adournened with mushroom patterns, and for one would be this worn.

This taste for mushroom come of the castle's seamstress, who sought to sew clothes to please princess Zelda.

This fashion, Zelda told to the seamstress, was in her true home well lived.

In her time everyone wore patterns of bright hues in the shape of mushrooms.

And now our hand seamstress set heart on copying these patterns, which she sold to many happy persons.

I searched for some of my own but I could not find any.

Tablet #9 - An ancient ghost story

Of late I have heard it told a strange lady walks around in the castle in dark of night.

She and Princess Zelda seem also twins two, but this one had no light in her eyes, more as a dead thing than not.

When she is asked about these walks, Princess Zelda then remembers nothing of that.

What monster, or spirit of darkness, be this vision? So afraid I am of my imagination that I cannot sleep.

Tablet #10 - For the hero's sake

Since her founding has Hyrule seen such hardships, but that is only a small moment of time.

Mineru, the kings older sister, says of this kingdom that it not mote than aware be ycaccht(no idea), not even for the future.

Princess Zelda tells her that this future be already, that a champion born from the sky will come.

Between the two they embarked to find a way to help this champion in that distant time.

Her min treuthe (no idea), sought they to rise the Temple of a time, into the sky to ward it against evil.

All done so in a far distant day, our kingdom might be saved.

In my heart and will go help the most, and I asked of Mineru, can you devise the means to uprise in the sky these stones.

My words I see not now, but these memories are safe, of the royal family, high in the sky for that future time.

Tablet #11 - The day the land rose

Such wondrous sight I have beholden that it cannot justly be described.

The temple of time I saw, and all the land that held it, risen to the sky, both fearful and majestic.

As princess Zelda told me, in her distant future comes a champion to that place, the hope that saves Hyrule.

For that champion be it that I inscribe this great stone.

The king's older sister, Mineru, sends now these stones to the sky, that the champion might read them.

Tablet #12 - A parting resolve

Rauru, Hyrule's king. Sonia, their queen. His elder sister, Mineru. And eek (no idea) Princess Zelda.

All whom I served, and loved. All whom are gone. Alone I carve these words upon this stone.

This stone, and all thirteen, serve as royal family records, my final work, throughout for all age.

Many the mark made by these much beloved peoples - some seen, some unseen.

When I make remembrance of their marks, I feel the flame of hope, though very small within me.

It be also though that these marks describe some grand design.

I can never meet princess Zelda for her love for her land. What more then, ask I, can I do for Hyrules peoples.

Let my life lead me from hence forth fully worthy to answer this question.

[ultraviolet-psyche]

Dead On Arrival (F!Chrobin ver.)

Rating: T

Pairings: F!Robin/Chrom, implied Alfonse/Kiran

Characters: Chrom, Kiran & F!Robin

Warnings: Angst; basically all the warnings you'd expect from a Risen King Chrom fic

Summary: Chrom, King of the Risen and the Fell Dragon's most trusted servant, is summoned to Askr.

Word Count: 995

A/N: Once again, this is mostly just some pronoun changes and some slight adjustments in description. Robin doesn't actually appear that much here, so...

Original M!Chrobin ver.

---

Light. Sunshine. Bright. Too bright. Clear skies. Stone floors. Clean air.

A hooded figure. A voice. Unintelligible speech.

"Who calls me?" He sounds as haggard as he looks.

More talking. It's louder. His name? Oh. Yes. His name.

"My name is… Chrom…" It hurts to speak; he's long used to it. "I am the king of corpses. Where I go… despair follows…"

He blinks a few times until his eyes adjust to the harsh light and the blur of colours and shapes in his line of vision form a clear image. The stranger before him is smiling beneath their hood, as though perhaps they're used to fallen former heroes being dumped into their peaceful world. Strange.

"Good to meet you, Chrom," they say. "I'm Kiran, the Hero Summoner. You have just been summoned to the Kingdom of Askr. I understand how confusing this must be for you, so allow me to explain."

They start talking about things that Chrom hardly has the energy to comprehend. The aforementioned Askr. A contract. The Order of Heroes. Wait. That's not right. Chrom isn't a hero. He has no business being here. He can't help these people change their fates.

Go! Tell them! Do not let them suffer our same fate!

His heart, or what remains of it, still aches, sometimes, and it aches now as he thinks back to the last words Robin has ever spoken to him. Robin had momentarily seized control of her own body to tell Chrom to save this strange world that called for him. Why, after all this time, does she trust him to avert the inevitable? Him, a broken corpse, used as his master's weapon to destroy all that he knows and loves, unable to protect a blasted thing. Why – how – has Robin not lost all hope? He wishes he could see her one last time, if only to ask, why him? Why the Risen King?

But, as his master had reminded him time and time again, nothing will ever change, because fate is always set in stone.

To make matters worse, Kiran is now prattling on about alternate universes and different versions of Chrom and the other Shepherds. Different Chroms, different Robins, different Lucinas… different versions of his master. Gods. A world with multiple Grimas is doomed no matter how many Chroms, Robins and Lucinas are there to fight them. The despaired world he's left behind can't even handle one Fell Dragon, so what hope does this world have?

Chrom soon realises that Kiran has stopped rambling. Their hood obscures their eyes, but it doesn't conceal their worried frown. "Is something the matter?"

"Your world… will fall to ruin…" is all that Chrom has the heart to say.

"Oh." There's a brief pause. "Uhh, okay, that's good to know, I guess? Anyway, how about we go to the castle? I have some friends I'd like you to meet."

Chrom would much rather find a secluded area and stay there forever, but the whims of a Risen are of no one's concern. He has no choice but to play along.

---

It's surreal to travel through active, populated villages, packed with buildings fully-intact and dozens of villagers going about their day – moreso when Chrom feels their stares burning into his pallid skin like a flame meeting parchment. The sound of youths laughing and playing in the warm afternoon sun reminds him of his own children – or, rather, his children in a world that allowed them a proper, happy childhood. His heart aches again. He's a failure at many things, but his failure as a father stings like nothing else.

Askr is like a fairytale kingdom straight out of a children's book. The weather is picture-perfect, the birds are singing a sweet tune, and the closer Chrom and Kiran get to the castle, the more magnificent it becomes. It's the polar opposite of Ylisse in every way. Of course his master had no qualms about sending him here; it's a persistent reminder of everything he's lost.

Kiran chats with Chrom about the friends he'll be meeting as they both advance toward the castle. Chrom is only half-listening, merely responding with the occasional grunt, but he does register their names – Anna, Alfonse and Sharena. He notices that Kiran talks about Alfonse in a manner that's more… distinct. The words they use when speaking about this boy are painfully familiar – "other half", "special bond", "bound by ties stronger than fate". Something twists painfully in the depths of Chrom's stomach as bittersweet memories resurface, but he shoves them down, reminding himself that Kiran and Alfonse don't have much time left, anyway.

Once the castle entrance enters his view, Chrom notices a smattering of people, grouped into pairs or triplets, hanging about and socialising with one another. He wonders if these must be some of the Heroes Kiran was talking about.

With one glance to the left, he has to wonder no more. The sight before him is enough to stop him dead in his tracks.

Standing close to each other, adjacent to a large fountain, are a man and a woman, both dressed in light colours and each carrying a bouquet of flowers. The man, who's sporting blue hair and the Brand of the Exalt on his left shoulder, takes a moment to gently adjust the flowers nestled in his companion's ivory pigtails. The woman smiles and mouths a thank-you before leaning in for a peck on the lips.

They are so absorbed in each other's presence that they take no notice of Chrom, the Risen King, looking on in agony. He wants to cry, but he can't summon any tears. If only… If only…

Kiran lets out a long, sad sigh beside him. "I'm sorry you have to see that, Chrom. Come, let's go inside – Alfonse and the others are waiting."

Chrom tears his gaze away from his other self and his other half as he trudges behind Kiran, mourning the happy future that could've been.

[etcrow]

Hi there! So for the 1k alphabet could you do Dia and Job (if that one is still available), with SheepMC please? Thank you if you do!

1K followers alphabet event

J - Job

A job for a sheep!

Genre: fluff

Characters: GN!Sheep!MC + Diavolo and Barbatos

Universe: Obey me

Warnings: none

A/N: Keyword for this post is “Job”. Thanks for requesting, little one

Summary: Diavolo calls you to help him with his documents. That's a job for Sheep!MC!

Diavolo called you to the castle to give you an important assignment. From today you will work together with him in his study to help him with some documents. You show up at the castle bright and early and greet the servants with a joyful 'BAAAAAAAA', while Barbatos escorts you to the young lord's study to meet him. Diavolo greets you with a smile and welcomes you into his study as Barbatos leaves the room, returning to his duties.

Diavolo shows you the huge pile of papers he has to sort through, and you wiggle your hooves in panic, not knowing where to start. The demon chuckles and lovingly strokes your little head, entrusting you with a group of documents. You, not quite sure how, being a sheep, know how to read and arrange those documents into the various folders that you will then take to the shelf.

Diavolo thinks about signing and filling out the documents, trying to keep an eye on you while you work, and you move your hooves casting magic spells to arrange the documents better and faster. You are just finishing arranging a shelf when something rushes toward you and hits you on the head. You emit a 'BLEP' and fall to the ground unconscious, causing Diavolo to rush toward you, who calls your name and catches you in his arms to try to bring you to your senses.

The demon, panicked, lays you down on the couch and calls Barbatos, who runs to your rescue as fast as he can.

Both demons surround you and watch you, unconscious, as you do not move a muscle. Barbatos casts a spell and you regain your senses, holding your little head and whimpering in pain. Apparently, a book has fallen on your head, causing you to pass out from the blow. You sit up and, in despair, begin to cry, disheartened by what has happened. The two demons cast a glance at each other, and Diavolo proposes that you stay seated and sort through the papers, without taking them to the shelf this time. You nod and Barbatos offers to take care of sorting the documents, easing your workload.

The day goes on without further hiccups, and once you finish sorting and signing documents, Diavolo hands you a small medal, which you wear happily. "I thank you for your help, you were really helpful today."

Barbatos offers to make you some tea and you remain seated comfortably on the couch, watching Diavolo as he walks over to you and sits on the couch, exhausted. "So how is life going with the brothers?"

"BAAAAA"

"I guess. If you ever need anything, just let me know."

You nod, shocked that the demon understands what your bleating means, and look around, pointing to a photo album on the shelf. Diavolo chuckles, going to get it and you anxiously wait for him to show it to you. In the album are many photos with the seven brothers and Barbatos, and Diavolo is happy to tell you about the memories hidden behind those photos. Meanwhile, Barbatos returns with tea and joins you in recalling some scenes from the past.

You listen silently to Diavolo's stories and as he is about to tell another story, you point to his DDD, moving your hooves from top to bottom. "BAAAAAAA"

"Do you want to take a picture with me and Barbatos?"

You nod vigorously and jump to your feet, tumbling off the couch and emitting a resounding 'BOINK' that makes Diavolo burst out laughing, who, dismayed, asks you if you've hurt yourself. You quickly get to your feet exclaiming 'BAAA-BAH' and striking a theatrical pose, so much so that even Barbatos chuckles this time. Diavolo picks you up, making you blush, and Barbatos sits down next to you, striking a pose. The young lord takes the picture and promises to have it printed and give you a copy, in memory of this beautiful day, snags and falls aside.

Diavolo proposes you stay and eat dinner, and you point to a bouquet of flowers on top of his desk, causing him to barely hold back a laugh. "No, you don't eat those!"

"BAAA..." you look at him, confused and sad. Why does no one ever want you to eat the flowers? You pout, chuckling sadly, and Barbatos promises to cook you something worthy of the best transfer student in all of Devil Doom. Your belly grumbles and you cheer happily, waiting for dinner. You're small, in danger of being killed by a book, but you're hungry as hell!

[yanderefairyangel]

4 Hounds deep dive part 4 : Zephia

In the Hound family, I demand : the mother/older sister. Let’s break down evul momy lizard. 

So of course SPOILERS AHEAD and no, whatever postive things I migt say about this piece of lizard meat, I don’t like her nor do I justify any of the things she has done but if I have to be critical, I’ll have to put my biais aside (I'll do the same thing as for Marni, reblog and add)

So Zephia, or if you prefer as I like to call her, Aversa 2.0 is basically a mix between Aversa and Nyx : she was some sort of genius talented baby mage dragon since according to both her and Mauvier, she had stronger dragonic impluse, far stronger then average Mage dragon so I guess dragonic impulse are linked to genetics in the Engage world ? Cause she says it’s “a gift” so it’s innate, not as if she spend hours practicing, ... in others words like Aversa and Nyx but because she is too OP, she ended up blowing up her home town, killing her own family in the process

That’s what we know of her backstory. A woman so OP she could have been the Fell Dragon if Sombron wasn’t there. This events tooks place when she was young but at some point, she ended up working for Sombron. Since Sombron is over 3 000 and arrived 1 000 years ago in Elyos after his family got killed, coupled with the fact that Zephia is over 2 500, this means that Zephia’s rampage tooks place at least 1 000 years after Sombron’s arrival in Elyos since he and Lumera since they are of the same age where child. As a loyal servant of Sombron, when he was sealed away, she immediately worked in order to bring him back, watched over sleeping Veyle in her temple and eventually took over Griss, Marnie and Mauvier and forms the Hounds, a “group whose goal is to serve Sombron and protect Veyle”. Once Veyle awoke, seeing her gentle personality, Zephia began her manipulation to “fix” her and if she is very manipulative with Veyle, she is actually incredibly loyal to the Fell Princess (that’s how i call Evil Veyle) since this version of Veyle is the perfect version. She is so devoted to Sombron that she puts every of his needs and desire before everything to the point of becoming blind and... not very bright cause she is incredibly dumb sometimes... eh, but basically she is the perfect pawn for Sombron because she is driven by a desire, a specific desire ; that Sombron would be the father of her own children. So now, here we go. 

The main thing with Zephia much like the other villains in this game, she is driven by the desire of love and family

1 - Zephia la Mélusine

Melusine is a unique class that debuted in Engage, and is reserved to the only 2 mage dragon (or rather Full Mage dragon) that can join our party or is an ennemy in Engage, Zelestia and Zephia. Described as “an alluring magic knight who rides an evil dragon”, it’s name is based on a creature from European folklore, la fée Mélusine, a Nixie.

There is a lot of version of her story, but most famous as her being cursed by her mother to turn into a a dragon half woman each Saturday and that her only salvation would be to find a man who would accept to marry her, to have her children and to respect the oath of never seeing her bathing each Saturday. At some point, Melusine meets a man called Raymondin, a young lord who accidentally killed his uncle and helps him in return, he accepts to marry her and promise her to never spy on her as she bath in secret every Saturday. They have children most of them having monstruous feature according to foklore, but they are of the number of ten. However, Raymondin’s brother, the count of Forez encourages his brother to spy on her by saying she might be up to something bad * cough, cough cheating * and of course, being the jealous husband type Raymondin eventually ends up spying on her and discover her dragon tail. The version varies from there but all ends the same : Mélusine, desesperate as her husband’s action condamned her to endless damnation, she screams out of despair, and fly out of the window (yes cause she is a dragon/fairy so she had wings with her tails... don’t ask me ok, it’s a mythological figure) but she returns at night to caress her kids, and legends as it that at night when she can’t enter the place to take care or see her children, she spent the entire night crying out of despair and that when someone of the family dies or that her family’s good pass onto someone else, she screams and laments. Her names in breton means “La Mielleuse” = the Sweet/The Smooth

Now bear with me : Mélusine was a dragon-woman yearning for family and whose salvation relied on founding this family but she was robbed of it because of an invidual’s toxic behaviour... reminds you of someone ? It’s pretty obvious that not only her design, her class and story macthes with this story, that’s preety much why the dev decided to name her class that. Zephia’s story aligns pretty much with that of Mélusine, she too seeks salvation in family only for it to ends tragically but their fate is rather different however.

2 - Zephia and the meaning of family

When exactly did she started to be obssessed by it ? Well...

After this conversation... very weird conversation if you ask me. I mean, Zephia associate the words “children” with “subordinate. To which Sombron answer by “If you require some of those [loyal subordinnates], then just do what I do. Make children”. Sombron’s answer make sense with how he is. Cause look at the definition Sombron gives of family 

(NB to me, I gotta make a post about the meaning of family cause the more this goes, the more complex it gets)

Regardless by Sombron’s definition, children are synonynoms of subordinates but the interesting bits about Zephia is that what seems to have drawn her attention was this part

She comments that it’s a “revelation” and this comments obviously shows that Sombron put something knew in her mind. 

What Zephia however doesn’t seems to realize is that Sombron doesn’t care about his children love and that his children most definetely did  not loved him, but rather feared him with the sole exception of Veyle but Veyle was too young at the time and overall remained ignorant of a lot of things but Veyle is another topic. 

Upon this thoughts, Zephia tries to remember her family. She obviously doesn’t because of several reason : other then the fact that she was young when her rampage occured, it’s well established that because of their lifespan being longer than human’s, dragons often forgets a lot of things the more time passes, but even more than an average human brain. 

Basically, Zephia’s definition of family aligns with the one given by Sombron but the difference is that Sombron makes kids because “power” whereas Zephia wants kids because she want Luv... and that’s where it gets interesting

3 - Zephia break down : a woman who yearned for love

This is the parts where you see that Zephia isn’t a comically evil lady but a character with actual motivations. Just like the character her class is named after, Zephia seeked for the love of someone, that someone be her child. 

That’s how Mauvier describe Zephia to Zelestia, but note that he mentions how above all her negative traits, she is lonely. In the full convo, he said the last part of the sentence with a sad look and a sad tone which are notable speaking of Mauvier, a character that emotes very little and most importantly who resent Zephia for killing Marnie. What I like about this support is that Mauvier begins by saying it’s his point of view and perspectivism is going to be important about the Hounds in general, but even though what he saw and knew of Zephia was her harsh and destructive side, he was also able to sense her loneliness. 

That’s not that surprising because Mauvier is Veyle’s knight, and who was the most lonely person Mauvier ever met ? Veyle. And who also wanted a family and love ? Veyle. Basically, Zephia shares a lot of common things with Veyle (excuse me, i have to wash my mouth for saying this I hope it’s the last time) : that is to say 

1 ) they both are terrible lonely

2) they both yearns for the love of family

3) they both yearned for Sombron’s attention + got contaminated by him (to some extent) 

Zephia was after all resposible for the death of her own family even if she could not control it  and who knows how many years she spent all alone until she met Sombron and entered his service ? 

She even express the wish to see her parents once again but that’s not all

It’s revealed that the reason why Zephia never allows herself to get attached to any of Sombron’s children is to protect herself from sadness* since she knows he will dispose of them sooner or later. A kind of “ your goldfish is gonna die within 2 days, why bother getting attached ?” mentality. Or if you prefer this

This also explain her entire relationship towards Veyle.

Regardless, Zephia’s relationship to love is actually quite complicated because when she dies, we have this whole conversation with Griss

And when say that, guess what ? I’ll believe her. Zephia really though of the Hounds as her family, no matter how toxic she was towards them... because of her complicated story with love. Even Veyle mentions that Zephia showed kindess towards her (though we all know why eh) but she was shown to be capable of acting both as a loving mother and an abuser because Zephia remained lonely during such a long time that she forgot how it feels to be love and a family, but most importantly because the only model of a family she saw during all these years was : Sombron’s. A toxic environnement where violence was required to have what you wanted, those kids had to kill in order to survive themselves and she also saw those children being killed in awful ways. Sombron literaly tasked her with getting care of the corpse... yeah. Basically, Zephia’s  problem is that she yearns for the love of her children but she doesn’t know HOW to love them nor even express it, mainly because the only familial environement she remember is a... no actually toxic is an understatement when it comes to describing the experience that is being Sombron’s children. Zephia’s love manifest itself through her attitude of being harsh and destructive despite her motherly attitude and before someone acts like “toxicisty isn’t love” yes, I know that. 

HOWEVER, toxicity can be a result of love, or rather love can create a toxic behaviour. All feelings are like medicine, medicine is somthing that can cure you or poison you depending on how you use it. Anger can be the fuel of toxic behavior but we sometimes need it, same thing for sadness. Love may be what we all yearn for, but there is no denying that it can also be what freed the worst in all of us. I think the movie that shows that best is Luis Bunel’s masterpiece, El. 

But I digress, what is important is that Zephia is incapable of being a loving mother because the only “love” she witnessed was the one given by Sombron to his children.. so yeah any family she could have based on this influence was bound to be ducked up. She wanted to and to be loved, but because of Sombron’s influence, she was incapable of understanding the real meaning of family even though she still had one thing over Sombron and that was to understand that a family can bring you the love you desire which Sombron never even consider since he seems to consider his children to be like the humans that believes in him. She was still able to praise her “children” when needed but still gave them violent punishement when she judge it necessary. if Zephia is Melusine, then Sombron is at the same time Raymondin and the one who cursed her. By uttering the cursed words that made her want to have a child, he actually doomed Zephia to crave for something she is incapable of having and that would dommed her. My personal commentary on Mélusine’s story was precisely that she needed love to be saved, but not just her husband, but her loving family and that it’s precisely the inner toxicity of her husbanf, his jealousy that doomed her to remain a monster who would still love her children but unable to remain by their side. Sombron’s influence is like a curse (and don’t worry Rafal, one day I’ll talk about what he did to you) and he also cursed Zephia, corrupted her with his toxic view on family. In that regard, that makes the ressemblances between Veyle and Zephia ever more barrant; she too after all, was a tragic woman who yearned for the love of someone, her child.

She also bears strinking similarities with Sombron : Sombron seeks 0 Emblem, his Elys, his ideal. Zephia has eyes only for him.

Zephia confirms she had no romantic feelings for Sombron and that she wasn’t exaclty looking for his affection unlike what Mauvier claimed even though you could say that maybe Zephia did not wanted to admit it, but seeing how things are presented I believe Zephia more. What is important is that she pushed everyone away for Sombron, but not really for him, but for what she wanted him to be : the father of her child. Just like how Sombron become obsessed by 0 Emblem to the point of not seeing anyone, Zephia became blinded by her desire to have a child. When Veyle fights against her, she says “ You don’t see me, do you, Zephia ? You see me and you think of Papa.” Sombron’s influence on someone just as lonely as he was is obvious : he was a lonely dragon seeking for the love of only one person to the point of making everyone suffer and not caring, and Zephia repeated the same schema on the Hounds, with the difference that she did care about them to some extent.

Proof ? Well, she still leaves Mauvier and Marnie chances to get back on her side, when she fight Mauvier, Mauvier still talks about how he truly believed they were family but in his support with Zelestia he will take this back, though for Zephia they were indeed family because to her, that’s how family is like. Even as they are fighting in chapter 23, Zephia still offers Mauvier to return to her side. Zephia’s attitude definetely was shaped by Sombron’s influence since she became almost like him and guess what ?

Mauvier may be talking about magic powers here, but I am not (especially seeing the allegory there can be within Sombron’s magical power), what I am saying is that Zephia could have been an equal to Sombron’s toxicity in family if it weren’t for 2 different things : one, she is aware that family mean love. 2, she ends up realizing herself how blind she was and love did deliver her (and death too, incidentally).

[i-did-not-mean-to]

October 8th

Monsters

Ah, @melkors-big-tits...I don't even have the words to explain what your support has meant to me.

In my battle against indoctrination and shame, you've been more than just a help, you've made me laugh about things that used to make me cry...and that's invaluable.

This tiny snippet is dedicated to your beautiful art and to @thenookienostradamus's beautiful TRSB fic (Yeah, definitely go read that one, it's HILARIOUS and beautiful).

Thanks for everything ❤️‍🔥

Words: 653

Warning: a tad of sadness and references to NSFW things (but nothing happens)

Gothmog stared at the palms of what he would have confidently called his “hands” and sighed; he seldom ventured out of the fortress except on business – heavily armed and singularly determined – for a good reason.

It was ridiculous to take the throwaway comment of a wide-eyed brat and his sour-faced mother so to heart, but somehow, he couldn’t shake the gloom that had crept into the cracks in his tough skin. He should have killed them then and there, but, if he had given in to his most savage impulses, they would have been right and he couldn’t bear that idea.

“Monster!”

The very word echoed in his head even now and he shook it angrily, willing himself to dismiss the ungracious assessment as ignorance or uncalled-for fear.

“What is the matter?” Melkor padded in noiselessly; he had known that something was amiss the moment Gothmog had returned, whatever errand he had wanted to run seemingly forgotten, and had immediately retired to the most remote of chambers which was highly unusual for him. 

“Nothing,” Gothmog replied gruffly, but he had to consider that, if anyone might understand his predicament, it would be Melkor – the Dark and Terrible – and so, he repeated the slur flung at him so mercilessly. The very word tasted like bile on his steaming tongue.

“Oh darling,” Melkor whispered, slinging his arms around the solid midriff of his devoted servant and trusted officer in an impulsive gesture of solidarity and comfort, “they didn’t mean it…and even if they did, they don’t know what they’re talking about. You’re wonderful.”

“I am a smouldering pile of evil,” Gothmog whined, aware that he was wallowing in self-pity but unable to claw himself out of the roiling pit of misery, “I am a heap of discarded shards of violence.”

“You are a marvel,” Melkor contradicted firmly even though his voice was warm and tender, “and I will not listen to you disparaging yourself so. You’re the best at what you do, and your appearance reflects your inner strength, is there anything more beautiful than that?”

“I guess,” Gothmog sniffled pitifully, but his master’s words had pierced the hardening shell of despondency and despair; it was true that Melkor himself scintillated and bulged with his glorious purpose and nobody would ever have dared question his exceptional even if unusual pulchritude.

“What would cheer you up?” Melkor asked when Gothmog’s face didn’t tilt up with new vigour immediately, “should we go find some stray Elves and make them praise your beauty?” 

“It doesn’t count if you make them,” Gothmog objected petulantly; in the depth of his volcanic heart though, he knew that he’d forever be loyal to this whimsical and queer creature.

As monstruous as the Dark Lord might have been to his foes, he was known to be kind, supportive, and boundlessly entertaining to his own people which might explain why there was so little infighting under his rule. Could those who sought to smear his name and defile his legacy say the same about themselves? Gothmog thought that to be highly unlikely, but then again, the elves were notorious liars and cheaters…

“Make them? Me? I’d never,” Melkor swore with an exaggerated look of insulted innocence in his flashing eyes and – slinging his arm around Gothmog’s searing hot shoulders – he dragged the faithful Lord of Balrogs out of his hideout resolutely to take him out for a merry hunt.

Thankfully, his scouts had told him this very morning about a group of confused-looking, pointy-eared spies rummaging around in the underbrush like the scurrying, furtive critters they were. 

A bit of fun would surely dispel Gothmog’s bad mood and if he’d have to drag the poor wretch down onto the steaming remnants of their enemies’ dismembered bodies to make him feel how beautiful he really was, Melkor would consider that part of his duties as the caring and hands-on regent he prided himself on being.

So, remember kids, it doesn't matter what you look like and "beautiful" is just a word. If you're loved the way Gotty is loved (by me and Melkor), what difference does it make that he looks funky?

@fellowshipofthefics: eh, a bit of monster-loving (no, not that other thing, not me, never me loool)

Lots of love from me

-> Masterlist

[elevatorladylady]

Critical Reread - ACOFAS Chapter 11

Join me on a reread of A Court of Frost and Starlight

Chapter 11 - R/hysand

R/hysand visits Tamlin about his borders not being secure and goes jewelry shopping.

“Perhaps today would produce more of them.”

After waxing poetic about how the estate looks absolutely terrible, he’s hoping that he can make Tamlin angry enough to destroy his court further. Cool.

“But—peace. We had peace within our sights. I could rip him apart after we attained it.”

Ugh. Everyone is just a pawn in R/hysand’s game. They need to be alive until they don’t.

“Lucien had come here out of pity. Mercy.”

I don’t know why Lucien couldn’t want to actually make amends with Tamlin.

“If you’ve come to gloat, you can spare yourself the effort.” I put a hand on my chest. “Why should I bother?”

After clocking nothing but despair, he’s still being an ass.

“Hunting for dinner—because there were no servants here to make food. Or buy it. I couldn’t say I felt bad for him.”

The dude saved R/hys’ life. Does he really deserve to die from hunger?

“I smiled. “Oh, no. That was all her. Clever, isn’t she.”

He’s coming here to get Tamlin to rule his court better, but he’s still proud of F/eyre for destabilizing it. And somehow thinks him mentioning that will help in this conversation.

“I suppose you think I should be thanking you, for stepping up to assist in reviving me.”

Uh yeah, I think that’s kind of the least you can do when someone saves your life. Cause he really did not have to.

“I had everything—everything I’d wished for, dreamed of, begged the stars to grant me. He had nothing. Had been given everything and squandered it. He didn’t deserve my pity, my sympathy.”

He squandered his relationship with F/eyre during a time of great trauma and then F/eyre took the rest from him.

“Tamlin had burned them long ago, F/eyre had told me. It made no difference. He’d been there that day.”

He shows disdain for the whole thing and his family was killed in retribution. 

“I’m not allowing one Night Court brute onto my lands.”

He has very little reason to trust people from the Night Court. 

“You nearly destroyed her. In every way possible.”

And R/hysand drugging her every night and leaving her to lie in her own vomit was just no big deal.

“She survived it, though. Survived you. And you still felt the need to humiliate her, belittle her. If you meant to win her back, old friend, that wasn’t the wisest route.”

I mean she did infiltrate his court under the guise of loving him. But I will just have to make peace with the fact that SJM does have Tamlin say a lot of awful things to her during the High Lord’s meeting.

“Not in the mood for a brawl, Tamlin?”

And here we get some an actual change from Tamlin, unlike R/hysand who just continues to do the things he gets called out for.

“But as I winnowed away, the dark wind ripping around me, a strange sort of hollowness took root in my stomach.

Tamlin didn’t have shields around the house. None to prevent anyone from winnowing in, to guard against enemies appearing in his bedroom and slitting his throat.

It was almost as if he was waiting for someone to do it.”

Oh no, it’s almost like if you push someone to their lowest lows and treat them as if they don’t deserve to exist, they actually consider ending their own life. Who could have guessed that would happen?

“Having heard you rip into Cassian, I’d say you were fairly mild,”

The IC loves to pretend that they are actually mean to each other.

“I should have been the bigger male.”

Absolutely.

“I surveyed the three pieces. Sighed. “I’ll take all of them.”

I really hope there aren’t people starving in other parts of his court as he buys Amren more jewels.